This week's parashah invites us to ask challenging questions as to why we sometimes appear to be rewarded for our misdeeds or punished for our good ones. Our member Rabbi Steven Ettinger investigates.
Viewed simplistically, our religion is binary: blessings are good, curses are bad. Mitzvot are good, sins are bad. Morality is good and immorality is bad. As Moshe reminds us time and time again throughout Sefer Devarim, we should choose life. The choice is obvious since the path is clear – it’s black and white.
Life however is full of grey tones and the
Torah itself, at least as literally written, at times represents a confusing
guide. Men who are the foundations of our faith are depicted in dubious or
compromising situations. There is, at the very least, ambiguity regarding
Reuven’s actions with Bilhah. Shimshon’s behavior put the nation at risk. Eli
HaKohen’s sons’ treatment of women was less than exemplary. Both David and
Shlomo faced Divine punishment because of their conduct with women.
There is no need to highlight other
examples. Suffice it to say, passion and desire are powerful human emotions. We cannot understand what Hashem expects from
us, how to serve him or who we are without understanding these complex drives.
In Parashat Vayeshev we encounter two of
the greatest figures in Jewish history facing what most would consider extremely
compromising moral choices. For each, the outcome is different. The respective consequences
are counterintuitive. Thus, in the micro, it is difficult to understand how to
interpret the moral lesson, at least on the surface.
These are familiar narratives. Out of guilt
for selling Yosef, Yehudah exiles himself, then marries and has children. As
events unfold, his first two sons each marry the same woman, Tamar. They die
childless, leaving a third younger son. Yehudah
sends her away to delay yibum. Years go by, she sees that she has been
abandoned, so she decides to dress as a harlot to seduce Yehudah. She succeeds
and gets pregnant.
Simultaneously, Yosef begins servitude in
Egypt. After a period of years facing harsh conditions, he rises to a position
of responsibility in the home of an Egyptian nobleman. Unfortunately for him,
the nobleman’s wife becomes interested in him. She repeatly attempts to seduce
him numerous times, culminating in an incident where she manipulates events to
make a very aggressive effort to entice him.
As he refuses and runs out, she grabs his garment and uses it as
evidence of her claim that he attempted to sexually assault her. He is
imprisoned for several years before he is released to interpret Pharoh’s dreams
and as a result promoted to viceroy.
Yehudah succumbs to his baser nature and is
enticed by a harlot. The consequence he faces is… a set of newborn twins, one
of which is the progenitor of a royal dynasty and the ultimate redeemer.
Yehudah, the one who made the immoral
choice (actually two, if you include the sale of Yosef) comes out the big
winner. Where is the fairness? What does
this teach about morality? Topsy, turvy. V’nehafoch hu!
Perhaps the key to the answer is a word or
concept that characterizes Yehudah more than any other. A quick word
association with him would likely yield terms like: leader, majesty, spokesman,
warrior, or (as his mother proclaimed) praise to Hashem. However, perhaps the
most accurate word is “arev” or “eravon” – a guarantor or
security. When someon
e defaults on a loan he received or on a loan he agreed to
guarantee, when there is a default, then the borrower can collect from the
security (eravon) given by the borrower or from the guarantor (arev).
When Yehudah negotiated with Tamar but did
not have the fee (two goats) she asked for an “eravon” – and he inquired:
“what is the ‘eravon’ I should give you?” (Gen 35:17-18). It was that
very security that saved her when Yehudah was willing to admit that he acted
immorally and accepted responsibility for his poor moral choice in engaging
with her. Likewise, when confronting Yosef to plead for the release of
Binyamin, his main argument—and the one that succeeded—was that he committed to
Yaakov that he would be the arev for him (Gen. 44:32). Effectively, Yehudah
was again accepting responsibility for his earlier immoral choice (in this
instance, selling Yosef).
Yosef was good. Black and white. If he saw
an iniquity, if he thought his brothers sinned, he would report it – even if they
would hate him. Likewise, when faced with a seduction, he would not succumb,
regardless of the consequence. This is certainly meritorious. But this is how
he was hard-wired. He is a Tzadik.
However, life is grey. For the rest of us (at least most of us) it
is complex and confusing, Like Yehudah we fall, sometimes in extreme and
calamitous ways. Knowing this, Yehudah is the paradigm for finding our way back
to the path of morality and service of Hashem after we fail. We are security for something precious. That
might be for our family values (Yaakov for Yehudah), to our underlying sense of
honor and responsibility (Yehudah’s need to fulfill his commitment – even in
the face of shame), most certainly to the teachings of the Torah, to our neshamot
and to the version of ourselves we strive to be.
Another word related to the root of Yehudah
is to be modeh, to admit or acknowledge.
Yehudah was able to look inward and acknowledge his actions and to take
responsibility. He could then take the
appropriate corrective action. We are not perfect. We are not expected to be
tzadikim. We simply must be able to acknowledge who we are and what we do
so we can turn things around.
