Showing posts with label Vayeshev. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vayeshev. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

The First Conspiracy Theory

Parshat Vayeshev

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Yosef is sent by his father to Shechem, with a few tasks. Rabbi Mordechai Breuer divided Yosef's mission: you are being sent to your brothers, see how they are, see how the sheep are, and return to me with the update.
            
Ironically, as his brothers are no longer in Shechem only the first is partially achieved, and Yosef never returns after he is sold to Egypt. Malbim and Rashbam credit Yosef for seeking them beyond Shechem – above the call of duty – because shepherds tend to wander. Yaakov had made Yosef a "shaliach l'dvar mitzvah" – an agent for fulfilling a mitzvah – which would protect him in both directions.

Or Hachaim and Beit Halevi note that once he went to Dotan he was no longer under the protection of his father's command, and that is where the story turned sour for him.
            
Rabbi Breuer suggests that Shechem was not on the same crossroad that would have allowed the brothers to see the traveling caravans, so their location shift was not accidental, as it meant to set the stage for the national sojourn to Egypt to begin.
            
After arriving in Shechem, Yosef is found by a "man" who notices him lost in a field. The man tells him he heard the brothers saying "We shall go to Dotan." Most people assume that Dotan is a geographical location a short distance from Shechem (see Rashbam 37:17). But Rashi (37:17) raises the possibility, using a play on words, that they went "to seek against you [Yosef] conspiracies of legal pretexts" through which they can put you to death. In other words, as Rabbi Yoel Bin Nun argues, Yosef's perspective may eventually become that this was all a setup – a conspiracy against him.
            
What is the significance of Shechem, Dotan, the field and the 'man' who finds him?

Many commentaries note that Shechem is a place set aside for difficult stories: Dinah, sale of Yosef, the splitting of the kingdoms of Israel, and a place of murderers (see Hoshea 6:9). If so, Yaakov sending Yosef there would seem to be a sample of poor judgment.
            
Whether Yaakov thought out all the details is questionable. The Pesikta argues that for many years his calling Yosef, who said "Hineni" – "I am here, ready to take your mission upon myself," weighed very heavily on Yaakov, who felt responsible for Yosef's fate.

There are different possibilities for why the brothers were in Shechem. Maybe for a macho reason – they wanted to prove their independence and that they had no fear of repercussions from the massacre (Radak). Or they were following the journey of Avraham – which caused Yaakov to believe they had feelings of love for one another, as did their great grandfather Avraham (Shakh). Or they had put themselves in a situation to avoid their father sending Yosef – after all, it was a dangerous place (Malbim). On the other hand, if Yaakov did send Yosef to join them, Yosef's death could surely be attributed to or blamed on any of the locals who had it in for Yaakov's family, especially a simple target traveling alone.
            
Yaakov sent Yosef to them for different possible reasons as well. The Hadar Zekenim anthology posits that Yaakov mulled over the "Safek" (doubt) he had as to whether the brothers might harm Yosef, versus the "Vadai" (surety) that the people of Shechem (or their inheritors) will kill all of them if they are found there (see Targum Yonatan). Better to take the Safek, that something may or may not happen to Yosef, over the Vadai, that all of his shepherding sons will be killed. Radak opines, though, that on the one hand "Yisrael" (the name of innocence used to give Yosef the task) was completely unaware of the feelings the brothers had for Yosef (Alshikh), while on the other hands, he may have been aware but took Yosef's innocence regarding his brothers to mean the brothers had no ill feelings (Malbim).
            
Another line of thinking is that Yaakov or Yosef were aware that on this day the journey to Egypt would begin (Yonatan). The question was which family member would go down first?
            
The underlying theme of God's mighty hand assuring all goes according to the plan as promised to Avraham is not missed by Radak. Even the fact that Yisrael sent Yosef from "Emek Chevron" is enough of a hint to this idea. Chevron, after all, is on a mountain. An Emek is a valley – lending it to be interpreted metaphorically, as the "emek" – depth of Chevron, the city that sounds like "Chaver" – friend. This promise was made to the "Chaver" of Chevron (Avraham), buried in the depths – that his children will be strangers in a strange land. (Shakh) [Though Bal Haturim suggest the word Emek numerically equals 210, adding to the allure of the connection between the Emek and the 210 year exile to Egypt.]
            
We are told Yosef is "Toeh" in the field. The spelling does not mean "making errors" (טועה) and it is likely that the word means "Lost." The word Basadeh (as opposed to "B'sadeh") refers to a specific field, as opposed to a random field.
            
What was he lost about? And what specific field is this referring to?

Kli Yakar quotes the Midrash that he was "mistaken" regarding the field. He should have been aware of Kayin and Hevel and what happened when brothers who have an altercation meet in the field.
            
Alshikh also says he was mistaken regarding the field, but about the meaning of the field in his dream. To Yosef, the dream about the bundles was saying, "I will go to the fields where they are and they'll bow to me. Will they be able to cancel out what God has told me will happen?"

So the "man"/angel was there to remove the "Toeh" from his heart – that he shouldn't believe in his dream [at this point]. Even if it is true, you can't take away their choice – and they will not choose to bow to you. If all you're going to do is incite jealousy, they will not respond positively, and your dream will never come true.

Had the angel not come, Yosef would have stayed with his pride against them, and they would have killed him.
            
There are plenty of indications that the brothers were not all lovey as Yosef may have assumed or liked to believe. Whether it is the extra Yud in Dotayna (they were ten brothers united, minus the sons of Rachel), or the message to Yosef that they had traveled from "Zeh" (ויסעו מזה) (Zeh = 12, literally "this" but they have moved from the unity of being twelve brothers – you are out), Alshikh argues Yosef was a goner before he even shows up. This is why Malbim claims Yaakov's sending him to them (when they felt that way) nonetheless was criminal enough that Yaakov was worthy to be sent down to Egypt in chains. Sending Yosef down first was done for Yaakov's honor so that he came to Egypt royally.

The overall picture of this scene leads us to appreciate the depth of the tale – much more than just a string of coincidences. Or a family-made conspiracy theory. This was all part of a divine plan, to send the nation to Egypt, with Yosef paving the way, filling the promise made to Avraham that his children will be strangers in a strange land. 

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Shimon – A View of a Flawed (Member of the) Tribe

Parshat Vaychi (also good for Vayetze, Vayishlach, Vayeshev, Miketz)

by Rabbi Avi Billet

By and large, the tribe of Shimon does not fare well in the Biblical story. The second of Yaakov's sons is completely bypassed for any leadership role.

The Yalkut Shimoni notes (Shoftim 42) that the tribe of Shimon, "Never had a judge nor a king, on account of the sin of Zimri."

In our parsha, Shimon and Levi are grouped together in Yaakov's blessing – though theirs is hardly a blessing – when he says, "Shimon and Levi are a pair… they have killed men with anger, maimed bulls with will. Cursed be their rage, for it is fierce, and their fury, for it is cruel. I will disperse them in Jacob, scatter them in Israel."

Their having killed men with anger refers to their decimation of the city of Shechem. Otherwise the blessing is cryptic until the end, which predicts their portions in the Land of Israel: Levi gets none – only cities, while Shimon's portion is within that of the tribe of Yehuda.

At the end of the Torah (Devarim 33), Shimon is the only tribe not blessed by Moshe, which Ibn Ezra blames on the Baal Pe'or incident (Bamidbar 25). Ramban rejects this notion, suggesting it is disgraceful to think Moshe did not bless a tribe. It is only because Moshe mentioned Yosef as Ephraim and Menashe, and had achieved the magic number of 12 tribes, that the smallest tribe (Shimon) was left out of the Torah's account of the blessings – more for practical reasons than as punishment.

When one looks into Shimon – the man and the tribe – as depicted in the Torah and Midrash, the picture is far less than flattering – quite reproving, in fact.

His role in wiping out the city of Shechem (along with Levi) is criticized. He and Levi are credited with having the discussion to kill Yosef (37:19-20 – many midrashim and Targum Yonatan), while Shimon is identified as the one who threw Yosef in the pit (Bereshit Raba 84:16). We know Levi is exonerated, on account of the status Shevet Levi carries until today – having Moshe and Aharon and all those who did not participate in the Golden Calf as their forebears establishes Levi's status as the tribe of holiness forever.

Like Cham, son of Noach, who is eternally linked with his son Canaan (and cursed in this manner by his father), Shimon is also linked with Canaan in his lineage. Of all the descendants of Yaakov who descended to Egypt, only one (other than the tribes themselves) has a depiction of his mother attached to his name: Shaul ben HaCanaanit, apparent son of Shimon.

What was his story? Why was he singled out in this way?

The Midrash (Rabati) presents three options: Shimon was the only one of the brothers to marry a Canaanite (otherwise, according to Ramban, they married Egyptians, Amonites, Moabites, Yishmaelites, and Bnei Keturah following Avraham's and Yitzchak's rule of avoiding girls from the cursed nation); 'The Canaanite' refers to Dinah, on account of her encounter with Shechem – Shimon had one child with her (as an accession to her concern that she'd never marry), and then ended their union; Shaul was later Zimri.

With reference to his being Zimri (or the ancestor of Zimri), the Talmud in Sanhedrin 82b explains his name being Shaul ("lend") "because he lent himself [easily] to commit a sin," and Ben HaCanaanit, "because he engaged in a Canaanite act of licentiousness." (How he lived for 250 years is a different question.)

According to those who suggest he was the son of Dinah, either Shimon was the father (see above), or Shechem was the father (Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch). [Some say Yosef's wife was the product of Dinah and Shechem – Targum Yonatan 41:45] Rav Hirsch credits Shimon with raising Shaul, noting a precedent that a Jewish mother (Dinah the "Canaanit") establishes her child's acceptance into her family as he receives her status. That Shimon is listed as his father must then follow the Talmudic ruling (Sanhedrin 19b) that one who raises a child in his home is as if he fathered him.

The Tzror Hamor (R. Abraham ben Jacob Saba) presents a fascinating insight to Shimon, from the moment he was born. Leah saw all that would transpire with Shimon in a prophetic vision – the Zimri/Kozbi story, the union with a Canaanite that would produce Shaul, and therefore the proclivity Shimon has for "zimah." (licentiousness). This is why when she names him (29:33) she says "God heard I am hated," as if to say, "God heard, and got angry." He gave me "this," meaning "If only he hadn't given me 'this' because he is destined for sin…"

His name can be read "Sham Avon" - sin is on him. The natural proclivity for sin was punished when most of those who died at Baal Pe'or were of the tribe of Shimon. The Malbim explains (Bamidbar 26:12) that the entire family of Ohad (son of Shimon) was wiped out, and that Yemuel and Tzochar changed their tribal family names to Nemuel and Zerach to avoid a similar fate – all results of the Baal Peor story.

This portrayal of the destiny of the tribe of Shimon is very depressing. When we consider that the sons of Yaakov are all considered holy, how do we reconcile Shimon's unenviable status of being the worst of the lot?

We see that no one is perfect. Some people have devils in them from the moment they are born. For some people it comes out in spurts, for some it lays dormant, and for some it comes out in later generations – after all, it seems to be embedded in the genetic code.

For those who are preprogrammed this way, their challenge is to overcome their proclivities as best as possible. It's not easy – it never is – but with recognition of the problem, and properly seeking help and guidance, a person has a fighting chance of living a productive life.

For those on the outside, we need to be as helpful as we can, reserve judgment until such time that judgment is fairly warranted, and give the benefit of the doubt as much as possible. Those who say Shimon did a kindness in taking Dinah when she thought noone ever would are clearly judging Shimon favorably.

Living amongst flawed people is a challenge. But we dare not play God with their destiny – some will do bad and will always be bad, some will challenge their nature and be amazing people, and some will recognize their errors and do teshuvah.

How we choose to view and accept or reject them is our challenge – to be fair and honest with all the information we can gather.

Good luck to us all.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Right, Wrong, and Moral Justifications

Parshat Vayeshev


by Rabbi Avi Billet

A poignant Midrash in Ruth Rabba (5:6) argues that had Reuven, Aharon and Boaz known that certain minor kindnesses they performed would be recorded in the Bible for posterity, they might have done things differently. Instead of "planning" to save Yosef, Reuven would have carried Yosef home on his shoulders. Instead of coming alone to greet Moshe on his return from Midian, Aharon would have greeted him with a band. Instead of feeding Ruth enough [grain] until she was satisfied, Boaz would have fed her fattened calves.

Perhaps we can argue that had Yehuda (Bereishit Chapter 38) and King David (Shmuel II 11-12) been aware that their bedroom faux-pas would be recorded for posterity, they would have been more discreet and might not have even succumbed to the evil temptation that caused them to sin.

Yehuda's (unbeknownst) rendezvous with his daughter-in-law Tamar is such a scandal on so many levels, yet there is nonetheless a significant attempt by Chazal (the Rabbis of yesteryear) to whitewash it. The Artscroll Chumash commentary, for example, begins this section with the title, "The moral basis for the story of the union of Tamar and Yehuda."

Suffice it to say, objectively the only moral basis for the events "at the moment they transpired" can be found in Kabbalistic works. In many respects, Tamar's role, unseemly as it looks, is given a lot more credit than Yehuda's role. Yehuda only emerges positively at the end, when he admits Tamar's righteousness, and his own error which caused her to pursue her desperate measures.

Long term, the Tanakh (Bible) vindicates the downsides of the story. Yehuda achieves kingship for his tribe, as the older child born of his union with Tamar, Peretz, continues the line to King David, the eternal father of the royal family, and of the Messiah.

Why does the Torah tell us this story, then, if it takes hundreds of years for us, the readers, to see that everything, in the long term, is really OK?

Because there is a difference between destiny and the here and now. Because there is a difference between right and wrong. And because the Torah does not hide from the truth – sometimes the truth teaches us a model lesson, and sometimes the truth teaches us what not to do.

The story of the deaths of Yehuda's sons, while tragic, informs us that the patriarchs knew of the concept of yibum (the levirate marriage). That Yehuda withheld his third son, Shelah, from wedding Tamar, may reflect negatively or positively on Yehuda, depending on one's perspective. That Tamar felt the need to have Yehuda perform the yibum may also reflect negatively or positively on her, depending on one's perspective.

Last week, one of the publications of students of Yeshiva University posted a short story online that caused quite a stir. As the plot of the story did not jive with the values of the institution, many found it offensive, and wrong to appear under the name of Yeshiva University. Some argued that "freedom of expression" should allow for objectionable content to appear. I am of the opinion that students can write what they want, but should find different venues to print particular pieces that might reflect poorly on the institution – we are, after all, referring to a Yeshiva, and an institution that represents Torah and a commitment to halakhic Judaism.

One comment on the online posting of the story in question said, "I don't understand why people are so upset. I can find much more graphic sexual activity in the tanach and that may I remind you was written by God."

This is the problem. Because "God wrote about it" means everyone has a free pass to write about these kinds of outside-of-marriage encounters? "God writing about it," so to speak, is an example of the Divine using unique judgment to share what we need to know about, and to avoid sharing the stories we need not know about.

The difference between the Torah's tales and creative writing is that the human heroes of the Bible recognized their errors, felt shame even before they were caught, and even admitted their mistakes in a public forum.

People today who engage in the sins of this variety may or may not recognize their errors, or feel shame before being caught, and rarely admit publicly that they made a mistake (the author of the story in question is "Anonymous"). Even if they personally feel they've made a mistake, they might keep it between themselves and God for the rest of their lives.

Yehuda didn't excuse his behavior either, neither blaming it on his society, culture, or even the fact that he felt lonely after the death of his wife.

Without going through moral justifications, some of the lessons that come out of the story include: the need to be truthful, to follow up on a promise, not to embarrass someone (Bava Metzia 59a), to look out for yourself, to create your own destiny, to admit your mistakes. You hope God will justify your choices in good time, but in the here and now, we must make every effort to do what's right the first time.