Yehuda and Tamar’s Relationship After Discovery

Parshat Vayeshev

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

The story of Yehuda and Tamar is familiar to regular parsha readers. Yehuda marries off his son Er to Tamar. Er dies for being “bad in God’s eyes” and so Yehuda gives the bereaved widow to Er’s brother, Onan. The Torah reports that Onan would spill his seed so as not to impregnate Tamar (hence the term ‘onanism’) so God caused Onan’s death as well. Fearing widowhood and singlehood for the rest of her days, Tamar disguised herself as a harlot on a crossroad, only to meet, by design!, one specific potential customer, her recently widowed father-in-law Yehuda, who does consort with her and impregnates her, all while being unaware of her true identity. 

 Upon discovering her pregnancy, and thus her faithlessness in (not) waiting for Yehuda’s third son, she is slated for punishment, which most assume was to be a capital punishment of burning. 

 After she produced items Yehuda had given her as collateral for payment for services, he chose to admit to what had happened, thus saving her and his babies (as she carried twins), and embarrassed himself to protect them. A question can be asked why he wasn’t immediately subjected at least to the possibility of punishment for impregnating her…? The Talmud in Sotah 10b discusses this tale from various angles (see below) [That subject is beyond the scope of this essay’s topic] 

 Yehuda’s response, upon recognizing the truth of what had taken place, is to indicate that Tamar is righteous, in fact more righteous than Yehuda was in the situation for he failed to have his son Shelah marry Tamar as promised. Then the Torah attests to us that וְלֹֽא־יָסַ֥ף ע֖וֹד לְדַעְתָּֽהּ. 

What does that phrase mean? Most would likely translate “and he did not continue to know her,” and we might even assume that the “knowledge” referred to is the “Biblical kind” which refers to marital relations. In other words, they were never intimate again. Others might suggest she was sent away – a more literal meaning of not “knowing” her means never having any contact whatsoever. This is more far-fetched however, because every indication is that her children were part of Yehuda’s family, so it is unlikely that she would have been sent away. 

Rashi offers us two possibilities: “Some say he did not continue [to be with her]. And some say he did not stop [being with her].” For the latter interpretation, Rashi uses the example of Eldad and Meidad, when the Torah says ולא יספו – which means “they did not stop prophesying.” (see Bamidbar 11:25). 

 The Talmud in Sotah 10b says: ולא יסף עוד לדעתה - אמר שמואל סבא חמוה דרב שמואל בר אמי משמיה דרב שמואל בר אמי: כיון שידעה שוב לא פסק ממנה, כתיב הכא: ולא יסף עוד לדעתה, וכתיב התם: קול גדול ולא יסף. 

 This view follows the second view of Rashi, though it uses a different source to support the idea that Yehuda and Tamar remained together. In Va’Eschanan (Devarim 5:19), Moshe describes the sound of God’s voice at Sinai as “with a great voice, which did not cease.” [Hadar Zekenim, Torah Temimah]

The first view – that they separated – is championed by many commentaries. Rashbam and Chizkuni note that the word should have a מ at the beginning – either מדעתה or מלדעתה – if the Torah were telling us they remained together. Radak offers that since their initial union was borne in a circumstance that is shameful, a hidden identity, a presumed prostitute, etc. it is not a union that can be bounced back to “normal.” Others suggest that Yehuda’s true perception of her, as a קטלנית, a woman whose husbands die, remained, and he felt the need to exercise caution. (B’chor Shor, Chizkuni) 

Ramban suggests she remained his wife – they lived in the same general space. But as it is for a yavam, who has relations with the woman just to have a child, and then often enough never again, they did not live together as husband and wife again. Rabbenu Bachaye takes it a step further, saying “He could have been with her because their union was legitimate, but he chose not to.” [See also R Eliyahu Mizrachi] 

Chizkuni (mentioned above) actually raises a number of possibilities. (Two of them are noted above)

 • They remained together, as their initial union – initiated by her, per her desire to be with Yehuda – was done per קדושי יבום. 

 • Based on the depiction of her marriages to Er and Onan, it seems neither marriage was ever consummated (which raises other questions – see R Chaim Paltiel at the end of this), which means she may not have officially been Yehuda’s daughter-in-law 

Netziv makes a fascinating point. Comparing this relationship to that of Yaakov and Rachel, he notes that Rachel was pregnant with Binyamin before the family returned to Canaan. Once they were in Canaan, the land in which the forefathers observed Torah laws, Yaakov could no longer be intimate with Rachel, based on the law against marrying your wife’s sister. Despite his plans, Leah was his first wife, and so Rachel would thus be forbidden to him when in Canaan. Similarly with Tamar and Yehuda, while, as it turns out, their initial union was done b’heter, further being with her, since she had been married to his sons, would have been problematic. (A levirate marriage of the brother of the deceased is a different story, but not with any other relative… consider the story of Ploni Almoni in the Book of Ruth, and what Chazal tell us about Boaz, after his marriage to Ruth…) 

Netziv acknowledges the view in Megillah 17 that Rachel became pregnant in Eretz Yisrael (Canaan), and notes that according to that opinion, once the marriage is concretized properly – as was done outside of the land of Canaan, it need not be revisited or ended just because they’ve moved back to Canaan.

In practice, whatever Yehuda and Tamar did is surely no one’s business. It is clear that Peretz and Zerach (Tamar’s twins) are the last children Yehuda has. Perhaps more important than whether they lived together as husband and wife after this tale is what lessons we are to take from the narrative. Yehuda’s story, as it continues to evolve, is demonstrative of a person who learns from the mistakes of his youth, who takes ownership of errant ways, and who matures over time. He becomes a great leader! 

Tamar, by and large, is viewed as a woman who came to the entire situation of her relationships in Yehuda’s family from a vantage point of kedusha, and wanting to be the mother of Malchus. Radak reminds us that this affair, and the Ruth/Boaz relationship, and how Shlomo came from David/Batsheva all serve as a reminder to the kings of Yehuda that their humble beginnings should prevent them from every lording over their subjects. 

 For us, we can take the literal meaning of ידיעה and ask ourselves what kinds of relationships we wish to have. The kind in which there is nothing more to learn about a person? Or the kind in which we don’t stop learning about our life partner? Even moreso, for those who view the relationship of Yehuda and Tamar on a spiritual level, the message of “knowledge” is in embracing how the other person continues to grow spiritually, while supporting that growth, and hoping to be blessed to join for the ride that brings each of us closer to God in our lifetimes. 

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ר' חיים פלטיאל בראשית פרק לח פסוק כו

 וא"ת במה הצילה כ"ש בת שזנתה, וי"ל שיהודה מצאה בתולה ממקום בתולים שער ואונן לא שמשו אלא שלא כדרכן ובזאת הטענה יכול להצילה שבני נח בעולת בעל יש להם אבל נערה המאורסה אין להם. ומ"מ היאך נתעברה מביאה ראשונה, וי"ל ע"י מיעוך. ורשב"ם פי' שדרכן של בני נח לייבם בקרובים והאחים היו כלים לפיכך האב יכול לייבם ולכך ניצלה. ועוד קשה הרי אין קידושין (ט)[ת]ופסין בכלתו, וי"ל דלהא מסיק בסוטה שאמ' שיתומה הויה שגם שם פי' רש"י וקידושי יתומה אינם קידושין כי עתה אני ממאנת בו ואיני כלתו.

And Yaakov Was Left Alone

Parshat Vayishlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

One of the most compelling images in the Torah, which you can easily find in varying artistic renderings through the centuries with a simple Google search, is of the tussle between Yaakov and the “Man” during the night before the anticipated reunion of Yaakov and Eisav after so many years apart. 

The Torah introduces that struggle with the phrase ויותר יעקב לבדו, which is typically translated to mean “Yaakov was left alone/by himself,” and on a simple level, it means he was the last one remaining after everyone had crossed the Yabok safely. 

 The English translation, owing to its idiomatic interpretation, is most ironic and contradictory. Yaakov may have been the last one there, but he surely was not left alone! If someone picks a fight with you, the person is not “leaving you alone.” 

Rav Shimshon Rafael Hirsch suggests that Yaakov looked at the pittance of help he could honestly count on from his own people against the much larger force of the 400 men accompanying Eisav, which caused him to cry out הצילני נא, asking God to save him. He was left alone, entirely dependent on what was innate in his own personality. 

 In one of his speeches for Mizrachi in the mid 1960s (printed in חמש דרשות/ The Rav Speaks), all before the Six Day War, Rabbi Joseph B Soloveitchik spoke of Heroism and Strength, primarily through the lens of Avraham Avinu, Avraham HaIvri – who stood on one side of the world against everyone else in his devotion to the One God. Noting the lack of heroism of the Soviet leader at the time, who boasted of his missiles and thermonuclear bombs, Rabbi Soloveitchik said, “One who is truly strong has no need for heroism when struggling with his weaker antagonist. But when the physically, militarily weak presents himself to do battle with a force that is superior to him in power, in numbers and in armament, and is in a far better strategical position, he demonstrates the quality of heroic strength… When, for example, the State of Israel was engaged in struggle with all of its Arab neighbors, power was on the side of its enemies. The quality of heroism was displayed only by the small State.” 

Jewish history, he noted, is characterized by our historic-heroic gevurah existence. 

 “Since our father Abraham, we have done things which should logically have led to the worst kind of disaster. We have always been in the category of ‘All the world is on one side and he is on the other side…’ Yet despite this we succeeded in existing as ‘a people that dwells alone’ by virtue of heroism…. If you asked me, who is a Jew, I would answer, one who lives a life of heroism. In my eyes, a Jew is one who is ready to live heroically, to be always in the minority, to be able to fight against himself and against his own cold logic.” 

He veered to speak of heroism in halakhic and Shabbos observance (this was the ‘60s!) and in how people go against the tide of culture to stand true to their faith – in particular through leaving work early on Fridays, closing up shop for Shabbos, or not participating in events that take place Friday night or Saturday. And then he returned to Israel and Israelis. 

“If there is a group that has earned the right to utter the blessing of ‘who girdest Israel with strength’ with joy and pride, it is our comrades in Israel whose heroism has found expression not only within the framework of their private lives, but also in their struggle for heroic national existence, and in their demand that the State should conduct itself heroically not only on the battlefield but also in its daily life.” 

 He concluded, however, invoking the image of Yaakov from our Parsha. 

“To live a life of heroism, to fight, often alone, isolated, in the dark of night infested with horrors; to struggle against a mystical adversary as ‘And Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day’ represents the content of Judaism. 

“What actually did Jacob achieve through his struggle? He did not conquer new territory, he found no great spoil he did not emerge from the struggle a world conqueror. Why did he have to fight? The answer is plain. The struggle itself sanctifies. Jewish life means a life of heroism..” 

“We must give thanks to the Creator for His great lovingkindness in bestowing upon us the possibility to fulfill, like Jacob in his time: “And there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day.’ It is a privilege, friends, to be in a minority amongst Jews, and to grid ourselves with the strength to fight for the crown of glory.” 

A few years ago, I came across an interpretation (which I could not find again, nor in my records ☹) which suggested that Yaakov’s struggle with the איש was more a prophecy, and that the real struggle he had was with himself (see here for an approach in this direction). His own worries, his own insecurities, his own unsurety of what would happen once he encountered Eisav weighed on him heavily. And however he needed to see his “victory” in order to move forward, that is what happened. For example, the name change to Yisrael – “you struggled with God and man and you overcame” – is later confirmed by God in Beit El. And the fact that the Torah tells us “he was left alone” and all of a sudden, in the same verse, he finds himself “struggling with a man until dawn” makes us wonder if there really was a man there at all, or if it was all in his head. This may be what Rav Hirsch was referencing (see above, 4th paragraph) 

Rabbi Soloveitchik’s depiction of heroism in the fifth paragraph of this essay could easily be turned, by those who would wish, to define Israel’s current enemies – the terrorists in Gaza. They are less armed, they are not well-trained, and yet they take up arms against a more powerful enemy – this would seem to be heroism! Except that the story is the opposite of the early days of Israel’s heroism. Then, as now, Israel has a Defense Force, which focuses on defending itself from enemies set on their destruction. Since Israel handed over civil governance to the Arabs and told them “We are not interested in ruling over you” and never attack the Arabs unless provoked or in self-defense, the Arabs who “rise” to fight against a stronger army that is NOT hell-bent on their destruction, they are no heroes. They are (in the fighting sense) foolish. For their P.R. and for their ulterior goals (making Israel look bad), they are geniuses. But they are not heroic by Rabbi Soloveitchik’s definition. They are cowardly terrorists who will not drop the fight and better their own lives as long as Israel exists. Which is a terrible shame. 

Yaakov’s story is the story of the Jewish people. Yaakov was left alone. Sometimes Israel has to do things necessary for their survival ALONE. They receive no support, sometimes even from allies, when they face existential threats. And yet, when is Israel is blessed to have leaders who know their “number one job” is to protect their citizens, then whatever threat looms becomes their task to neutralize. We’ve seen this in the Six Day War, with the destruction of Iraq’s nuclear program in 1981, with the destruction of Hezbollah’s arsenal, with the destruction of Syria’s military capabilities in the last week, and other such examples. 

 Rabbi Soloveitchik reminded us that the story of the Jewish people is to be left alone on one side, against everyone else on the other side. That is our struggle, and how we overcome it is our heroism. 

As Bilaam said, however, “They are a nation who dwells alone.” We know his curse was in fact a blessing. May that blessing be true, that just as we naturally dwell alone, all those who are counted as enemies of the Jewish people should find the strength to help us live up to our creed, and just leave us alone – no matter where we are throughout the world.

Two Thefts, Exodus, and Survival

Parshat Vayetze

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Chapter 31, verses 19 and 20, present two thefts. The first is Rachel “stealing” her father’s terafim. The second is Yaakov “stealing” Lavan’s heart in that he doesn’t tell him of his departure from Lavan’s home, with his wives, children, and his belongings. 

Were these really both "thefts" in the traditional sense of stealing? Or is there a different kind of message being conveyed, despite the language of stealing being employed.

 Most of the commentaries in the Mikraos Gedolos Chumash focus on Rachel’s deed, ignoring Yaakov’s “theft” simply because Yaakov’s is clearly a figure of speech, but is not a crime, whereas Rachel actually takes objects that belong to her father. 

 And yet, those who do comment on Yaakov’s deed note that the “deception” here is simply that Yaakov was not up front with Lavan about his plans, while he understood that Lavan’s own take on Yaakov’s wealth acquisition was not coming from a good place. Note, of course, one need not be up front about one’s plans with someone who has made every effort to indicate he is an enemy. 

 Some even point out the language of the Torah – “he did not tell [Lavan] that he was fleeing (כי ברח הוא).” This is where Lavan (after-the-fact) felt that Yaakov had been dishonest. However, had Yaakov actually told him of his pending departure, it would hardly be viewed as “fleeing” and more “we are leaving.” So of course he didn’t tell Lavan that he would be ברח – fleeing. 

Regarding Rachel’s thievery – the Torah is clearly telling us about it because it is to become significant in a few verses, when Lavan accuses Yaakov of “stealing my gods,” and after Yaakov allows him to search all of the family belongings, we are told that Rachel hid them in her saddlebag. 

 Rashi famously notes, based on Lavan’s accusation mentioned in the previous sentence (31:30) that Rachel was taking her father’s idols hoping he’d abandon his idolatry. 

But most of the other commentaries have a different take on the identification of the terafim based on other Biblical precedents of the use of terafim, sometimes even by people we would never accuse of idolatry! 

Rabbenu Bachaye is the most comprehensive in his presentation of many views of the Mikraos Gedolos Chumash, where the most common emerging theme (and argument) is that the terafim were used for sorcery and witchcraft, particularly to help Lavan in his divination, figuring out things of past, present, and future. To give the most obvious reason, she took them so her father would not know when or that they had left! We see this effectively work, because it took three days for Lavan to discover they had left. 

 Ibn Ezra notes, for example, that if they were idols, why would Rachel keep them? She’d throw them away or bury them somewhere. That she holds on to them demonstrates that she recognizes their use and doesn’t feel they need to be discarded. The fact that Lavan later accused the theft of “stealing my gods,” in this view, is insignificant. Lavan is not a stranger to exaggeration and hyperbole. He may feel that his terafim have God-like powers, even if he doesn’t personally worship them. 

This leads us to consider the precedent setting nature of the Exodus from Lavan’s home, and how similar it is to the Exodus we will later see from Egypt. 

In both cases, the Bnei Yisrael leave, men, women and children. In both cases, their leaving is described as בריחה, fleeing, even though we could certainly argue there are better verbs to describe their exodus. While there isn’t a clear timeline in the Exodus from Egypt, our rabbis have taught us that on the third day after the Exodus (just as it was the third day here – see 31:22), Pharaoh gave chase, and the confrontation between the two sides took place on the seventh day. 

 One need think no further than the comparison made in the Haggadah between “who is worse? Pharaoh or Lavan” to understand that the Torah is telling us something significant about these two events. Perhaps even that the 400 years of exile promised to Avraham could have taken place in Lavan’s house, an that method of leaving was meant to be one in which the Israelites had a choice, at any time, to go, if only they could muster the courage to leave. 

 Which is why when they leave, in both cases, they are accompanied by great wealth. 

 Remember that when the Bnei Yisrael left Egypt, the verse tells us וינצלו את מצרים, which, loosely translated means they drained Egypt of its wealth. This is the same reaction Lavan’s sons have in 31:1 when they accuse Yaakov of stealing all of their father’s wealth (never mind how his flocks multiplied under Yaakov’s care!), and making his fortune on the backs of their father Lavan’s misfortune. 

 Which just means that this playbook is as old as time. 

Rachel’s theft, more than likely, was a survival instinct, to protect herself, her husband, her co-wives, all of the children, from the wrath of her father. It’s something anyone would do when running for their lives: break the radio, cut the phone lines, disable the vehicle that would be used to chase after, lame the animals that might be chasing, etc… 

Yaakov’s theft isn’t a theft at all. It’s a demonstration of the regret that could take place over the loss of what “could have been” if the other side had looked past the jealousy and seen the humanity. 

It’s reasonable to suggest there’s a parallel that can be made between the ideas presented above and the current situation in Israel. Accusations of theft (stolen land, stolen country) are smokescreens for the larger issue of not taking charge of your own destiny. 

 Just as Lavan left the shepherding to Yaakov and wanted to reap all the benefits, and Lavan’s sons felt the same way, when Yaakov’s wealth grew and they saw the cash cow dripping dry, they blamed him rather than blaming themselves for doing no work and expecting to draw all of the benefits. 

 This is the philosophy of those Arabs who have rejected every “two-state solution” because they just want one state – all of Israel – to be their caliphate home. And they want everything Israel has accomplished and built to be theirs, because, well, they deserve it! (this is tongue in cheek, in case unclear) 

As far as Rachel is concerned, if as noted above, she was looking out for her family because she knew what her father was capable of, then it’s not thievery at all. In fact, what she did was a mitzvah of protecting yourself from harm. 

And that is the mitzvah that Israel today faces – protecting yourself before your enemy comes to get you, their intention always being that this is for the last time.