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Parashat VaYeshev
Rav Haim Lifshitz
Essays and Articles:
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Hate - Love - Miracles.
Translated from Hebrew by S. NAthan l'ilui nishmat Esther bat mordechai "And they hated him, and they could not speak with him peacefully." The text finds it necessary to explain the factors that worked to create hatred in the hearts of brothers: Those who hated were tsadikim, and the one who was hated was a tsadik as well. The text gives a negative explanation and a positive explanation. "And Yosef brought tales of them, of bad, to their father." This is the negative explanation. "And his brothers saw that it was he their father loved more than all his brothers, and they hated him." This is the positive explanation. "Loved more than all his brothers" was the specific problem, rather than more than all his sons. As brothers, they hated him, rather than as their father's sons. They recognized that it was Yaakov's perogative to favor the ben z'kunim, the child of his old age, as the Ramban explains: "It appears to me that it is the custom of the elderly to take one of the little sons, so that he will be with him to serve him. He is always leaning upon his arm, he will never be parted from him, and this son is called the son of his old age; he intends that he should serve him toward his old age. Here Yaakov took Yosef for this role. He was with him always, and therefore would not go with the [brothers when they were] herding the sheep in a distant place." This being so, there was nothing in this intimacy between the ben z'kunim and his elderly father that would be a reason for hatred. After all, Yosef filled a role that each of his brothers would otherwise have had to perform in his stead. Because of the service he performed, on the contrary, there would be reason to love him and to feel gratitude toward him. The negative reason, that he brought tales, is also highly controversial. Ramban writes: "According to Rashi's opinion it is possible that it meant he spoke well of them, for mevi diba (to bring a tale) means that whatever he saw, he told. Only motsi diba refers to the fool who tells lies." We could find here a mild distaste perhaps, but certainly no cause for hatred - most peculiar! Hatred has many causes. Envy is a form of hatred that has no rational basis. Why blame someone for having a privilege I do not have? What harm has he done me? Reasonable causes for hatred would include behavior that harms, that threatens, or endangers me, for this is the hatred for the enemy. The tales that Yosef brought of his brothers – which the brothers feared would cause Yaakov to reject them – did indeed fall into this category of a threat. The striped coat, however, falls into the category of envy – "and his brothers envied him" – and this envy was reinforced by the dreams. For his father's love, and for the striped coat, Yosef was not to blame. Yet that he is to blame in some way, for fanning their jealousy into hatred, leit mahn depahleeg – none dispute. Still, despite the fact that "his father rebuked him," nevertheless, "his father kept the matter in mind." We are given a double message: On the one hand, the father sympathizes with the brothers' feelings. On the other hand "he was awaiting and anticipating the time that [the dream] would come true." (Rashi) Yaakov criticizes Yosef's dreams yet takes them seriously. Yosef, "who was very clever, what was he thinking to do this stupidity?" Why must he tell an ongoing series of infuriating dreams? Why doesn't his brothers' livid response cause him to recoil, or at least to retreat somewhat? Why must he keep baiting them more and more? They have never troubled to conceal their anger. Does he not notice it? "And they increased further their hating of him," yet immediately after that, "...and he dreamed another dream, and he told it to his brothers." Envy is added to hatred, and hatred to envy. A combination of factors caused their hatred and their scorn as well: "Here comes that dream owner" – ba'al hahalomot halazeh ba. The text deems it vital to describe the overwhelming pressure of the emotions of hatred experienced by the brothers. For some reason, the text omits Yosef's reaction, making him appear emotionally blocked and utterly insensitive. He continues blithely to tell his inflammatory dreams. He never hesitates, at his father's command, "to go and see the peace [!] of your brothers." He says nary a word, as they try to kill him, to cast him into the pit, to sell him to the Yishmaelites. We must wait patiently for Parashat Miketz (41:21) to discover Yosef's response: "But we are to blame for our brother, because we saw his soul's distress when he was pleading with us...." It is no coincidence that the text skips over Yosef's reaction in our parasha, during the time of the actual incident. Indeed there is no coincidence at all in the Torah. "More beautiful is the conversation of the slaves of the fathers than the Torah learning of the sons." The brothers seem ambivalent. On the one hand, Reuven experiences severe doubts. He is reluctant to cooperate: "And behold, Yosef was not in the pit, and [Reuven] tore his clothes." Yet on the other hand, "they sat down to eat bread....They sat and held a trial, to judge [Yosef] according to din Torah....They declared excommunicated and cursed any who would expose [their deed] and they included the Holy Blessed One among them" (Rashi, Tanhuma). Did God really agree to this ugly act – for it certainly appears ugly on the surface of things. "And it was at that time that Yehuda descended from his brothers....His brothers lowered his status as their leader: [They accused Yehuda:] 'You told us to sell [Yosef]. If you had told us to bring him back we would have listened to you.'" The incident with Tamar does not add to Yehuda's respect. It is a series of failures, one follows another, his two sons die in an ugly affair. Tamar masquerades, and sets a trap to ensnare Yehuda (so it appears on the surface) who is the prince and leader of his generation. Out of an act that seems to have ugliness in it, the Mashiah is born. Some explain this incident as demonstrating their rare nobility of spirit – in both Yehuda and Tamar. Yehuda says, while ignoring his own shame: "She was more righteous than I was." Tamar is willing to be burned at the stake rather than humiliate Yehuda. It is the birth of that greatness of spirit from which David HaMelech would come forth. Our question then comes back again: Why and wherefore must the great paths of destiny be bound to the pachim ketanim, to the "small jars" that partake of hatred and ugliness? It would be more appropriate to pour glorious content in a respectable vessel. Existence and Destiny Two tracks lie at the feet of God's servant, stretching from past to present to future. At their point in the present moment, God's servant treads both tracks simultaneously: One track is the track of existence in the world of sensory experience. This track seems to be subject to the control of one's free choice. The other is the track of destiny, which encompasses ultimate values, heavenly decrees, and the long-range Godly plan. This track is hidden from eyes of flesh and blood, not only because of hester panim but in principle. Despite the geometrical rule that two parallel lines must never meet, these two parallel tracks are paved with points of encounter. At the points where they encounter one another, we are given a glimpse of the real relationship between the two tracks: We discover that there is absolute coordination between them. This discovery, of the merging of the tracks, is accessible to God's servant when he is occupying the dimension of height, when he is in the state of dvaikut that is entailed in total devotion to the Godly interest, and to his own destiny as a Godly presence in this world. Then it happens: Existence and destiny touch, joining hands to further God's servant in his climb toward the goal of his yearnings. The series of events related in the text is intended to demonstrate the way in which human experience and God's plan merge along the length of this double track. This is why "the Torah spoke in human terms," using human emotions to indicate that God is guiding human experience. Yet this rule can be misinterpreted, and used to attribute emotions to the Creator. This is a difficulty the Rambam discusses in Moreh nevuchim, where he attempts to give a philosophical perspective to the terminology of human experience described in the Torah. We would like to try for a simple human perspective, by focusing on the sensory-emotional aspects of human experience. Besides offering a reasonable explanation of the text, in my humble opinion, it can also serve to demonstrate the importance of the encounter between the two tracks. First of all, we must attempt to define the difference between hate, love, and pity: At the first stage of spiritual development (liyeshuatcha kiviti Hashem) a person is focused on the problems of survival. He is busy with sharpening his senses and expanding the scope of his capabilities, in order to be able to understand and to control his experience. At this stage, egoism is in control, concealing the broader view – as they say; you cannot see the forest for the trees. In this stage the will to fulfill mitsvot, and to refine midot, and to struggle against the yetser hara, are all limited to trying to escape evil or fight it. It is "turn away from bad..., and [only after that], do good." The relationship to others is perceived as a relationship to an object, as a means for serving the Creator. Man is a mitsva collector. It is not for the sake of heaven but for the sake of himself that he collects mitsvot. He guards against falling into the deadly trap of sin. Yirat hahet - Fear of sin. There is no room at this stage for feelings of love. Relationships of hesed – generous kindness – towards others ride the waves of feelings of pity. A sense of pity derives from the discomfort that a pitier feels in the presence of a sufferer. The phenomenon of suffering is accompanied by a fear-provoking factor. The sight of suffering arouses recoil, disgust, and a wish to put it out of sight. When one person tries to ease another's suffering at this stage it does not express any identifying with the other or empathizing with another's suffering. It is simply, in the very best case, the generosity of the strong toward the weak. Kiviti Hashem liyeshuatcha. The element of reciprocity appears at the second stage. A person begins to identify with the suffering other. The process of "you will love your friend as yourself" begins here. Identifying at this stage means I see the other person from my own angle: 'How would I feel if that happened to me.' Yet this is only a first step. Eventually it leads to a much more advanced ability – the ability to see the other from the other's own point of view: Ahd shetagiya limkomo "until you have reached his place," is a higher level than 'until he has reached your place.' It is a much more developed ability to empathize than is merely seeing the other from your point of view. This highest level of human ability – hesed at its most splendid – in which one sees the other from the other's place – does not require self-forgetting, but rather an absolute concentration on identifying and empathizing with the other. This qualitative level is not limited by egoism. It is the level at which infinite capabilities break through normal limitations. It is intuition, breaking the boundaries of reality's rules, bearing the fragrance of the Garden of Eden, of the or elyon of the dimension of height. This ability is reserved for the highest stage, in which Divine hesed rests upon a human being. Hashem liyeshuatcha kiviti – total identification. In this light that encompasses man, God, and universe, there the sense of love rather than fear or awe. Yirat haromemut, awe of God's greatness, belongs to the second stage, the stage of reciprocity, while love's treasure is reserved exclusively for friends – for yedidei Hashem, for Avraham ohavi. Hatred also has different levels. It can be a direct expression of evil, as is the selfish egoist's negative relationship to others. The egoist sees another human being as a threat to his own existence. The other threatens the sovereignty of the survival system to which he is wholly subject. A rasha does not need a reason to hate. The very presence of another human being is enough to arouse feelings of hatred in him. The presence of good arouses him to a smoldering hatred, which turns into a desire for murder; he must eliminate the good from the landscape, for good is evil's reminder of sin. After all the mere presence of good undermines evil, and publicly exposes its shame. Another kind of hatred results from envy. In this category, Yosef's brothers are included. On its good side, envy means kinat sofrim, scribes' envy – the envy of another's learning. Most of Yaakov's Torah had been passed on to Yosef, who was closer to him than they were. We could see in "his brothers envied him" a case of kinat sofrim for Yaakov's revelation of Torah, if only that envy had not been accompanied by hatred: "And they hated him and they could not speak with him peacefully". If not for their hatred, we can surmise that they would never have come to the ugly deed of selling him. And perhaps they would have come to recognition of Yosef as the true and proper interpreter of their father's shita. However, "hatred ruins the line" of normal behavior. The hatred of the first stage blinds one's broader scope of vision, and is focused on the object of one's hatred. One cannot observe it from a reciprocal or from a higher perspective. The brothers also experienced the higher stage of hatred, and this higher hatred eventually prevailed and emerged victorious over its lower-ranking comrade. We may surmise that even at the beginning stages the brothers' hatred and envy belonged to this higher caliber, for after all both sides were tsadikim, shivtei y-ah, God's own tribes. However the higher level hatred is never a lasting one, since it lacks any tangible feature that can be grasped by the senses. It belongs exclusively to the higher track. It looks down at its lower sensory comrade. Yet the higher hatred gives the lower hatred a reason and a right to exist. What is the lower, inferior, ugly hatred doing among tsadikim? It seems that a tsadik who occupies the higher track sees no shame in the lower track that is attached to it, for after all it is only the tangible expression of the higher track, and as such legitimate. Still it seems reasonable to ask: What is higher hatred doing there? What is meant by higher hatred? Is there room for hatred on the higher track? It seems that hatred's emotions are charged with energies that are more powerful than those of love, since its source, evil, has an energy that surpasses love's energy. While it is true that the wisest of all men has defined love as a power that "many waters could never put out," meaning that love has the capacity to transcend reality, from the perspective of height, to the extent of ignoring it altogether – "Love will cover over all sins" – nevertheless, it seems that love ignores evil by bypassing it, as in "a little of the light pushes away a lot of the darkness." Love confronts evil with a quality too pure. Love can never understand evil nor recognize its inner essence. Hatred, on the other hand, being in its very essence an offspring of evil, is quite capable of recognizing its father and begetter. Hatred knows quite well where evil's power lies. Hatred knows how evil is to be fought. The source of evil's power is in quantity severed from quality. Therefore hatred has the force of quantity. It is energy in quantity, of force drawn from the sources of quantity, from the bubbling wellspring of evil, drawing its resources from the sensed and felt, tangible battle for survival, which rouses the senses and equips them with animate energies. The problem is that hatred's deficiencies too derive from the quantitative source. This means that hatred suffers from limitation, because limitation is always attached to quantity. Hatred does not have infinite energies as does love. To counter this deficiency, as mentioned, hatred is blessed with tangible, sensory realness, and in this way it is closer to the vitality of existential reality. Hatred is not blind as love is. It scorns games of chance. Hatred prefers to do business with real quantities. It tries to build a reciprocal relationship with rational logic and realism. Yet logic too is limited to quantitative sensory reality. Logic too has nothing of its own to offer. Hatred thus gropes its way though the darkness of existence, seeking causeless causes, ultimately winning nothing, trying to draw from its own empty wells – empty because they are limited by quantity's intrinsic limitations. They are empty of content or quality. Hatred's exclusive right to exist lies in its surrender, in its becoming a servant to the higher track, and offering it the gift of sensory experience, thereby enabling the higher dimension to address tangible reality and to take hold of it. Such is the true path of the yetser hara. It was originally destined to serve the yetser tov and to give it tangible realness. Such indeed is the true path of truth itself, with which the higher track is signed and sealed, for after all truth is God's own seal. Truth had no connection to the lower world. Truth even objected to the creation of man, "for he is all of him lies." Therefore God "cast truth down to the earth," to roll through the dust of physical reality, to enter the mud in which man grows his gardens, there to buy itself a place in man's heart. Truth rolled into the world of human sensations, and won real sensory status. Out of this principle grew the yetser and hatred as well, both of which were destined to serve the truth, and the good, and the qualities of spirituality. The yetser would make truth and good physically tangible, while hatred would effectively fight evil. However, when truth's team becomes overly involved in the lowly world, they risk falling, as the angels fall, for even angels can fall. Esav's angel falls as well. Compelled to struggle on earth – to become dust-covered in a contest that embraced heaven and earth – he could not prevail against Yaakov, who represented truth's team. Hazal and the commentaries write: Vayaiavek ish imo. "A man struggled with him" – literally translates "and a man was become dust-covered with him," "referring to the dust that rose to cover the sight of the skies." This was an attempt by sar esav, Esav's heavenly representative, to conceal the higher perspective from Yaakov. It was useless of course, since the higher perspective is made of stronger stuff. It is made of the higher infinite qualities rather than the stuff of physical matter, from which evil, falsehood, and hatred are made. Here the tsadik's role is defined: The tsadik cultivates the bond that connects heaven and earth. He guards it against weakening, protecting the world from the danger that would result should the two tracks disconnect. "Come let us kill him, and we will cast him into the pit, and we will see what will become of his dreams." "Rabi Yitzhak said: 'This text says 'seek out my meaning:' Indeed, [the last phrase] was ruah hakodesh speaking. They were saying 'come and let us kill him,' while the scripture concludes 'and we will see what will become of his dreams.' [This was ruach hakodesh saying to the brothers:] 'We will see whose plan will prevail, yours or Mine.'" (Rashi) We have before us an explicit display of the two tracks. The higher track – ruah hakodesh. The lower track – the brothers. It is Yosef who brings the two tracks together. He is the tsadik, the one whose contribution is made in total devotion – for after all he knew of his brothers' hatred toward him and nevertheless went to meet them, for the commandment to honor one's father. Yosef is called hatsadik, the tsadik, because in the dreams which he brought from heaven to earth, he was connecting the track of height to the localized event, thus giving it a method and a meaning that testify to a higher planned Providence. Yosef the dream solver did not solve dreams because he had specific dream-solving skills and training. He was not a professional dream solver like those among the Egyptians. Rather he saw the dream as an instruction from the higher track that was intended to grant meaning to the existential track and to unite the two. More than a dream expert, he was a higher track expert, in the merit of his tsidkut. She'asa nisim la'avoteinu bayamim hahaim – bazman hazeh. "Who did miracles for our fathers, in those days – in this time." Ahl hanisim "For the miracles" Ve'ahl nisecha shebechol yom imanu... "And for Your miracles that are every day with us, and for your wonders and your kindnesses that are at every moment, evening and morning and noon." The definition of miracle is the revelation of connection, the discovery of the heavenly track's influence upon existence's track. One who is little in his faith runs into this "revelation of the Face" very rarely. There may be a moment when an event diverges from pragmatic, narrow, law-governed logic, and the one of little faith finds it difficult to reconcile this event with the laws of matter. With a genuine believer – looking down on this lowly world from a higher perspective – the dimension of height enables him to see a direct view of Divine Providence and its influence, and to understand the meanings that connect events and that impose a heavenly order and method upon them. To such a one, every existential event testifies to Godly intervention. The only law that is valid as far as he is concerned is the law of the miracle. Existence's laws and logic apply only on the superficial limited plane. They are an aerial photo: Any attempt to penetrate beyond the screen that divides between the tracks is absent. The more absent it is – the wider yawns the gap between the tracks, the more the one who has little faith feels an obligation to fill the vacuum that is void of faith, with further exertions of effort, with more applications of mechanical means, with more power struggles, in order to save his own existence. The tsadik looking down from above is exempt from this obligation, knowing that his responsibility requires him to exert effort on the higher plane, in the "prayer, repentance and charity [that] cause the evil of the decree to pass," rather than exerting himself with pleas and petitions to illusions, to flesh and blood that are here today and there (in the next world) tomorrow. For this reason Yosef was called to task for exerting excessive efforts with the sar hamashkim, Pharoah's drink minister, for after all it was Yosef himself who gave the world the way to connect the two tracks, and why is he now petitioning that low creature? Yosef was called upon to demonstrate the connection between the two tracks, to deal with both as though they were one, to put his head into the lions' den of reality, into the absurdity that runs riot between two tracks that appear agonizingly antithetical, and yet to remain dependent only upon the higher track. It is not unlikely that this simultaneous involvement with both tracks can sometimes have an aspect of over-involvement in the lowly, in the shafir ve'shelya. This could perhaps hurt or ever so slightly blur the perfect balance that unifies the two tracks, which could perhaps account for Yosef's error with the sahr hamashkim. "In those days in this time." The days of Hanuka are dedicated to clarifying and refreshing our understanding of the phenomenon of miracle, in which a phenomenon turns into Divine law removed from time and space, through the efforts of the tsadik. The essence of the miracle that Hanuka comes to clarify is quality's victory over quantity, good's victory over evil, justice's over human depravity. This victory is actualized from a state of dormant potential, as the result of human devotion, of absolute self-sacrifice for the Godly interest. This equation holds, having been eternalized on Hanuka, in those days and in this time. It is a question of the quality of one's recognition of the truth inherent in the Divine management of the universe. "The miracle owner does not recognize his own miracle" refers to the one who is little in faith, who is short-sighted. Only the true tsadik, who revolves with the cycle of the stages that create the ladder set firmly on the ground while its head reaches the heavens, who passes from existential efforts, through to discovery of the Godly presence, through to the privilege of attaining total identification and dvaikut with the Godly presence, is privileged to feel both tracks. For the tsadik, sensory vision and spiritual vision are made one. This reasoning can also explain Yaakov's – the Jews' – relationship to Esav – the non-Jews – of whom "the halacha says that it is known that Esav hates Yaakov". Yet suddenly, when the day comes, the nations, the goyim, will glorify God and praise Him "because his kindness has prevailed over us." If anyone is making the error of thinking that the nations that will praise God for the redemption of Israel refers to "the good goyim", the text comes to tell us: "Sing, goyim, for [God's] people, because the blood of His servants He shall avenge, and vengeance shall he return to his foes, and he shall atone the earth of his people." Included in this group who will halleluy-a "give glory to God" are the enemies of Israel as well, who have been "privileged" to taste of God's vengeance. According to what has been said above, in the era that God's "Face is revealed," when the two tracks encounter and complete one another, when destiny is revealed, when the Divine plan and God's strong hand are exposed as being God's presence on the track of existence, then the nations who have been the rod of the Creator's wrath against his people will understand, and will obediently accept the law of the higher Will, having understood that it is the higher law that is being expressed this time as well, as it has been expressed by them in the past. It was not as they had thought, that the land had been given over to the hands of the wicked, that the law of brute force that they had wielded had been decisive in the lower worlds, but rather that a higher will had given them victory. The wicked will finally and at long last realize that the brutality of the wicked can never rise again, that their only choice is to obey – as an eved nirtsa – the law of the higher Will. Since the higher Will raises the flag of world destiny through His chosen people, it is only by seeking the shelter and mastery of His chosen people that redemption can reach unto them. Go To Top
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