Bereshit 48:5,7 (Va-yehi) - Yaakov, Yosef, Efrayim, Menashe and Rahel (The structure of chapter 48)

Berehit 48 begins by recording that Yosef brought his two sons, Efrayim and Menashe to see Yaakov on Yaakov's deathbed, 48:1. Yaakov then recalled a prophecy that G-d had told him, 48:3,4, and then Yaakov said that Menashe and Efrayim would be his, like Reuven and Shimon, 48:5,6.

What was Yaakov telling Yosef? Was Yaakov telling Yosef that Yosef was to be considered his firstborn son? This is a rather backhanded way of making such a designation, as Yaakov could have said directly that Yosef would receive a double portion instead of "claiming" Efrayim and Menashe. Also, what does it mean that Yaakov "claimed" Efrayim and Menashe to be his? Was Yaakov giving Efrayim and Menashe a greater inheritance in the land of Israel than his other grandchildren? Did he have the power to distribute the land of Israel amongst his children and grandchildren?

Yaakov then recalled Rahel's death and burial, 48:7, and he went on to bless Efrayim and Menashe, 48:8-20. The chapter ends by Yaakov giving Yosef a gift, 48:21,22. Why did Yaakov recall Rahel's death and burial and why did he mention it in the middle of his blessings to Efrayim and Menashe, 48:5,6, 8-20?

One approach (see R. Saadiah Gaon on 48:7) to answering these questions is that Yaakov was adopting Efrayim and Menashe in 48:5, and then Yaakov mentioned Rahel's death to explain why he was adopting them. According to this approach, in 35:11, Yaakov was promised to have more children, but since Rahel died he was unable to have more children. Hence, here in 48:3,4, first Yaakov referred to the prophecy of 35:11, then he adopted Efrayim and Menashe to fulfill the promise of having more children, 48:5,6 and then he stated that Rahel died, 48:7.

Ibn Ezra (on 48:4) completely rejects this adoption approach. He notes that with this idea there is nothing special of Yosef's children, as Yaakov could have just as well adopted Reuven's grandchildren. Also, could adopting Efrayim and Menashe really be the fulfillment of the prophecy of 35:11 since previously they were his grandchildren? In addition, if Yaakov really felt the need to adopt his grandchildren, why did he wait until the end of this life? Or, if he felt that he had to fulfill G-d's prophecy of 35:11, why did Rahel's death stop him from having other children? If Yaakov's other wives were too old to have children, then he could have married a younger wife. Also, why did Yaakov refer to Rahel's burial in 48:7, if the whole importance of the verse according to R. Saadiah Gaon is that she died but not where she was buried? Furthermore, if Yaakov was trying to explain his action of adopting Efrayim and Menashe he should have mentioned Rahel's death in conjunction with his reference to G-d's prophecy in 48:3,4 and not after he adopted the children. Another problem is that 48:6 uses the word, their brothers, and is apparently in reference to the relationship between Efrayim and Menashe and other possible sons of Yosef, but if Yaakov really adopted Efrayim and Menashe, then they would not be brothers with Yosef's other sons. Finally, Yaakov supposedly adopted them in 48:5,6 but he did not even know that they were in the room with him! Yaakov was only told that Yosef came to see him, 48:2, and when he first saw Efrayim and Menashe, 48:8, he asked who are they? If he really had wanted to adopt his grandchildren he should have checked that they were next to him. I doubt this adoption approach, and the simple explanation of 35:11 is that G-d was promising that Yaakov would have many descendents but not that he personally was to have more children.

A second approach to explaining 48:5 is that Yaakov was attempting to educate Efrayim, Menashe and Yosef about the importance of the land of Israel. (I first heard this idea from David Silber in a lecture, and subsequently read similar ideas in articles by Mordechai Berger, 1989, and David Henshke, 1998.) With this approach, in 48;3,4,Yaakov recalled G-d's promise of 35:11,12 to stress that G-d gave the land of Israel to Yaakov and his descendants. Thus, Yaakov added the words achuzzat olam in 48:4, that the land would be an everlasting possession when he recalled G-d's prophecy, though this phrase was not mentioned in 35:12, see N. Leibowitz, 1976, p. 537. In 48:5, Yaakov was claiming that Efrayim and Menashe were his as a way to increase their connection to the land of Israel. This "claim" was not to adopt them but to confer on them special inheritance rights within the land of Israel. Yaakov was not giving them more land since the land was to be divided equally according to the population, (see Rashi on 48:6, and Bemidbar 26:52-56), but he stated that their land would be called under their names, which would give them a connection to the land of Israel. Yaakov then reminded Yosef of his mother's burial plot in order that Yosef would feel a greater connection with the land of Israel.

This approach is nice, but if Yaakov was trying to educate Efrayim and Menashe, then one would think that Yaakov would have made sure that they were present when he gave them their special inheritance rights in the land of Israel. However, again from Yaakov's question in 48:8, "Who are they?" we see that when Yaakov stated the verses 48:5,6, he thought he was speaking only to Yosef. Also, when Yaakov "claimed" Efrayim and Menashe, he made a distinction between those children who were born before he came to Egypt and those who came afterwards, 48:5. Why should there be this distinction if the goal was to increase the ties of the next generation with the land of Israel? Why not give all the children of Yosef special inheritance rights in the land of Israel? Finally, why did Yaakov wait until his final breaths to try to educate Efrayim, Menashe and Yosef about the land of Israel? Did he think the lesson would be more effective on his death bed?

A third approach to understanding 48:5,6 is that possibly there was still some tension between Yaakov and Yosef due to Yosef's absence from the home for 22 years. Maybe in his last days, Yaakov was trying to resolve an issue that he had with Yosef concerning Yosef's children. With regard to all of his other grandchildren, Yaakov had been with them when they were born and grown up, but Yaakov was not with Efrayim and Menashe when they were born and during their early years. Thus, maybe Yosef thought that Yaakov had less of a connection with them than his other grandchildren, and this could be why Yosef brought them with him when he went to see Yaakov. Yaakov, not knowing that Efrayim and Menashe were with Yosef, said that Efrayim and Menashe were his, which was his way of telling Yosef that he loved them equally to his own children, and to show that this was not an empty statement, he stated that they would have special inheritance rights, that their land would be called under their name. Yaakov did not have to make this declaration to Efrayim and Menashe since the issue was between Yaakov and Yosef. With this approach, 48:3,4, the recollection of G-d's promise to Yaakov of land was an introduction to 48:5,6.

Why then did Yaakov refer to Rahel's death in 48:7? One possibility is that Yaakov had just intended to give the blessing of 48:5,6 and then he wanted to give Yosef a gift of land in the land of Canaan, 48:21,22. 48:7 was then a lead in to 48:21,22 and it was not connected with the verses 48:8-20. Maybe 48:7 was lead in to 48:21,22 since the gift of land was to be Yosef's burial plot, and then Yaakov was explaining that just like your mother had a unique burial site so too you will have a unique burial site. Or, following the education approach, Yaakov mentioned Rahel's burial plot to increase Yosef's connection to the land of Israel through his mother. Or, following the idea that Yaakov was trying to as heal any grudges before he died, Yaakov was telling Yosef not to be mad at him for not burying Rahel in the family plot in the cave of Makhpela, see comments of Rashi, Ibn Ezra, Rashbam, Hizkuni and Radak, all on 48:7. 

With this latter idea, 48:7, is connected to 48:5,6, and not to 48:21,22. In any event, after Yaakov re-called Rahel's burial plot, he realized that his grandchildren were in the room with, 48:8. Yaakov then "ad-libbed" by giving Efrayim and Menashe another blessing. Thus, chapter 48 should have been 48:1-7,21,22 and the intervening verses, 48:8-20, were added on the spot by Yaakov after he found out that Yosef had brought Efrayim and Menashe to him.

Bibliography:

Berger, Mordechai, 1989, On the blessings to Efrayim and Menashe, Rinat Yitzhak, pp. 100-105.

Henshke, David, 1998, "What is the connection between the burial of Rahel and Yaakov's testament?" in Me-perot ha-ilan al parashat ha-shavuat, edited by Yehoshua Sharwtz and David Algabish, Tel Aviv: University Bar Ilan Press, pp. 146,147.

Leibowitz, Nehama (1905-1997), 1976, Studies in Bereshit, translated by Aryeh Newman, Jerusalem: The World Zionist Organization.

Ma'oz Tzur

After we light the Hanukkah candles, and say the piyyut ha-nerot ha-lalu, “these lights,” the custom is to sing Ma’oz Tzur. This custom was initially just amongst the Ashkenazim, but I have been told that recently (in the last hundred years?) Sefardim also sing the song. This song is thought to have originated in Germany in the thirteenth century by a poet named Mordechai since this name is the acrostic from the first letters in the first five stanzas of the song. In addition, the tune for Ma’oz Tzur is thought to be from a German folk song (Millgram, 1978, pp. 319, 618, see also Levinsky, 1956, vol. 5, p. 182).

The first stanza of Ma'oz Tzur is an introduction to the song, the next four stanzas record historical events where G-d saved the Jewish people, and the sixth and last stanza is a prayer for the future redemption. This last stanza has several versions, and is deleted altogether in some versions (see for example in Hertz, 1952, p. 952).

Why is the last stanza deleted in some versions? A possible answer is that the stanza has a call for vengeance, but Yom Tov Levinsky (1956, vol. 5, pp. 180-182) notes that there are other prayers (for example, Av ha-Rachamim) that also have calls for vengeance but these have not been altered or removed. Levinsky claims that the problem with the sixth stanza is the last line of the stanza, dehei admon be-zel zalmon, which he claims refers to Fredrick Barbarossa, a German King who was a redhead (admon) and one of the leaders of the Third Crusade, 12th century. According to Levinsky, the problem with the line is that it called for Fredrick Barbarossa to be vanquished.

Ismar Schorsch (1988) completely rejects this possibility. He notes that the stanza is not cited until the seventeenth century long after the time of Fredrick Barbarossa. Instead, he claims that the stanza is referring to the time after the Reformation, that the Jews were hoping that this would signal the end of Christianity. And, since Christianity was identified with Edom, the last of the four empires that would rule before the Messiah, the stanza is a prayer for the coming of the Messiah. He interprets the line dehei admon be-zel zalmon, as a prayer to vanquish Christianity (admon = Edom, and zalmon = zelem, the cross). Furthermore, he notes that the final verse mentions seven shepherds, which refers to seven biblical figures (Micah 5:4 and Succah 52b) who would accompany the messiah.

Why was the custom of singing Ma'oz Tzur established? Is it just because the song is a nice song? Why do we not sing Ma'oz Tzur on Purim and Pesach, as the song also refers to these times of salvation?

Avigdor Shinan (1999, p. 98) writes that it seems that the song was written due to the persecutions experienced by German Jewry in the 13th century. The idea being that the song would have been relevant to German Jewry in the 13th century, who suffered greatly from persecutions, as the song was (is) a prayer that G-d would save the people as He had in the past. With this reason the song is not specifically related to Hanukkah and to candle lighting on Hanukkah.

Another answer can be derived from Rav Soloveitchik's (2007, pp. 167-171) discussion of some aspects of the Rambam's comments on Hanukkah. The Rambam (Laws of Hanukkah, 3:1) begins his discussion of the laws of Hanukkah with a review of the history of Hanukkah and the question is why. The simple answer is that since the events of Hanukkah are not recorded in the Bible, the Rambam does not assume that people know the events of Hanukkah. However, still the question remains why do people need to know the events of Hanukkah?

Rav Soloveitchik notes that the Rambam (Laws of Hanukkah 4:12) writes that the lighting of the candles is "in order to make known the miracle and to offer additional praise and thanksgiving to G-d for the wonders which he has wrought for us." Rav Soloveitchik explains that there are two aspects to lighting the candles on Hanukkah, the technical aspect of physically lighting the candle and the thoughts that are to accompany the lighting of the candles. Based on the Rambam's comments, these thoughts are to thank G-d for the miracles he has done for us. Furthermore in order for one to be truly thankful, one must know what one is thanking G-d for, and hence the Rambam recorded the history of Hanukkah so that people would know what they are to be thankful for when lighting the candles. Rav Soloveitchik notes that the same idea applies to the Haggadah on Pesach. One must thank G-d for taking the Jewish people out of Egypt, and hence one must review the history of the Exodus. Another example is the prayer al ha-nissim that we recite on Purim and Hanukkah. We do not just say that we are thankful but we recite the history of the different holidays in order to know what we are thankful for.

I did not see that Rav Soloveitchik discussed Ma'oz Tzur, but his idea could apply to why the custom of singing this song began. Maybe the author of the song, Mordechai, wrote this song in order that people would understand the significance to lighting the Hanukkah candles that people are to acknowledge and be grateful that G-d saved the Jewish people in the times of the Hasmoneans. This idea that G-d saved the Jewish people is expressed in the prayer al ha-nissim, but that prayer does not refer to the miracle of the oil and is not said when one lights the candles. Similarly, the piyyut ha-nerot ha-lalu refers to G-d doing miracles for the Jewish people, but also does not specify about the miracle of the oil and does not explain that the people were in dire straits prior to the miracles. Ma'oz Tzur specifically mentions both the miracle of the oil and how difficult the situation was for the Jews prior to G-d's help. Thus, maybe the reason why the custom of singing Ma'oz Tzur was adopted was because the song is way of teaching people that when one lights the Hanukkah candles one should be thankful to G-d for saving the Jewish people. (With this logic, the other stanzas not referring to Hanukkah were added to give more examples where G-d saved the Jewish people. Furthermore, as noted by daughter Talia, with this logic there would be no need to recite Ma'oz Tzur on Purim where we read the Megillah or on Pesach where we recite the Haggadah.)

A different possibility is that the Rama (Shulchan Arukh, Orah Chayyim 670:2) writes that the custom is to recite zemirot and praises by the meals on Hanukkah and then the meals are considered as being commanded meals, seudat mitzvah. What are these zemirot? Zemirot are songs, but what songs are being referred to? Maybe Ma'oz Tzur, which has a similar form to the zemirot we sing on Shabbat, was written specifically to have a song to sing by the meals on Hanukkah in order to transform a meal on Hanukkah from a regular meal to a seudat mitzvah. With this idea, at some point the song was transferred from being part of the meal to the ceremony by the lighting of the Hanukkah candles. This rationale would also explain why there is no need to recite Ma'oz Tzur on Purim or Pesach since the meals on these holidays are suedot mitzvoth, obligatory meals, which removes the need to add zemirot to the meals.

Bibliography:

Hertz, Joseph H. (1872-1946), 1952, The authorised daily prayer book, revised edition, New York: Bloch Publishing Company.

Levinsky, Yom Tov, 1956, Sefer ha-Moadim, Tel Aviv: Dvir.

Millgram, Abraham, 1971, Jewish Worship, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society.

Schorsch, Ismar, 1998, A Meditation on Maoz Tzur, Judaism, 37:4, pp. 459-464.

Shinan, Avigdor, 1999, Siddur Avi Chai for the house and family, Jerusalem: Yidiyot Ahranot and Sefer Hemed.

Soloveitchik, Joseph, (1903-1993), 2007, Days of Deliverance: Essays on Purim and Hanukkah, edited by Eli D. Clark, Joel B. Wolowelsky and Reuven Ziegler, Jersey City, NJ: Ktav Publishing House.

Bereshit 35:8 (Va-yishlach)– Rivka's loyal nurse

Bereshit 35:8 records, “Now Devora, Rivka’s nurse, died. She was buried below Bet-El, beneath the oak; they called its name: Allon Bakhut/ Oak of Weeping,” (Fox 1995 translation). This verse raises several questions.

One question is who is Devora? When Rivka left Haran to marry Yitzhak, 24:59 records that a nurse accompanied Rivka on the journey, but then the Torah does not specify her name. Could this be the same person? Yaakov was approximately 91 year old at this time, and we know that Yitzhak and Rivka were married for twenty years before Yaakov was born, but we do not know how old Rivka was when she married nor how old her nurse was. According to the Midrash, Rivka was three when she got married, which is quite difficult, but even accepting this figure, the nurse who accompanied Rivka from Haran would have been 130 years old.

The patriarchs and Yishmael lived to more than 130, but was their life spans unique or did everybody live such long lives? Clearly, it is simpler to understand that they were exceptions since even today people do not live such long lives, but still maybe Devora was also one of the exceptions. Ramban (end of comments on 35:8) writes that it is possible that this was a different nurse than the one who accompanied Rivka from Haran. Yet, this would still not solve the age problem, since the woman still had to have been alive and been able to nurse when Rivka was born. Thus, probably Devora was the same woman who accompanied Rivka when she came to Haran and she lived a long life. However, why did the Torah did not refer to her as Devora initially? Maybe, this was not to remove the focus from Rivka who was then the new bride.

A second question is what was Devora doing with Yaakov and his entourage? One possibility (see Rashi, Bekhor Shor) is that when Rivka told Yaakov to go to Haran, she said that she would send for Yaakov, 27:45. Accordingly, maybe during the twenty years that Yaakov stayed in Haran, Rivka had sent Devora as a messenger to Yaakov. However, the Torah does not record that Yaakov received any messages from Rivka, and his return home is not connected to any such message, see 31:1-17. Did Yaakov receive the message and ignore it? (It is possible to understand Rashi that Devora was only now going on the mission, but then Rivka would have been alive at this time. Silbermann and Rosenbaum, 1934, p. 170, explicitly write in their translation of Rashi that she died on the return journey.) Instead it is more likely, that Devora heard that Yaakov had returned to the land of Israel, and then she went to greet him, see comments of Yehuda Keel, 2000, p.483.

Why would Devora have gone to visit Yaakov and not Yitzhak and Rivka? We now that Yitzhak was alive, 35:27, but maybe he was too sick or maybe he was still upset about Yaakov fooling him, that he preferred to wait for Yaakov. With regard to Rivka, the Torah does not state whether she was alive or not at this point. Bereshit Rabbah (81:5, quoted by Rashi on 35:8) writes that at this time (but not apparently from Devora) Yaakov learned that Rivka died. Ramban and Hoffmann (on 35:8) note that as 35:27 only records that Yaakov returned to Yitzhak, which implies that Rivka had died. My guess is also that Rivka was dead since Devora would not have abandoned Rivka even for a short while, and hence if she went to visit Yaakov, it must be that Rivka had died.

A third difficulty with 35:8 is why is Devora’s death recorded in the Torah? Rivka’s death is not recorded, why should her nurse’s death be recorded? Furthermore, this mention of her death is smack in the middle of Yaakov building an altar, and G-d blessing him. It seems that she died in this interval, but this record of her death interrupts the flow from the building of the altar to G-d’s blessings. Several answers have been suggested to this question.

Rashbam writes that her death was mentioned since it led to the naming of a place, Allon Bakhut, and the Torah specifies all the places that Yaakov stopped at on his return trip home. Yet, this place was just a tree, and still could not this naming have been recorded after G-d made the promises to Yaakov in order not to interrupt the narrative?

Ramban based on the Midrash (above), writes that Devora’s death also refers to Rivka’s death, and then G-d spoke to Yaakov to comfort him. If I understand this idea correctly, it implies that G-d would not have made the promises recorded in 35:9-12 had not Yaakov been upset about the death of his mother, but this is very difficult to accept since these promises were the confirmation of Yaakov’s dream, 28:13-15, and of Yaakov’s victory over Esav.

Sarna (1989, p. 241, see also Kass, 2003, p. 502) connects her death with the purging of the family’s idolatry, 35:4, and suggests that her death signals that all of the family’s connection with Mesopotamia were “finally and decisively severed.” This could be, but my understanding is that the family’s connection with Haran ended with Yaakov and Lavan’s treaty, 31:44-55.

Gary Rendsburg (1984, pp.364,5) suggests that this information concerning Devora is to teach us about Rivka’s fate from deceiving Yitzhak. As noted by N. Leibowitz (1976, pp. 322,323) Yaakov seems to have been punished for his deception of Yitzhak when Lavan switched Rahel and Lea, but was Rivka also punished? Rendsburg answers that her punishment was that she never saw Yaakov again after he went to Haran, and this is the implication of our verse.

I like Rendsberg’s idea, and it can be further developed. While the verse reminds us about Rivka, still if the point of the verse is just that Rivka died before Yaakov returned, then there was no need to mention Devora’s death. Devora herself must have had some relevance to the narrative, and my guess is that after Yaakov went to Haran, she was the only person left who was friendly with Rivka.

What was Rivka’s life like when Yaakov left home? The simplest assumption is that Yitzhak learned about her role in Yaakov's deceit, and this knowledge must have strained their relationship. In addition, Rivka was far from her blood relatives, living in a foreign land, her favorite son gone, and her other son probably also not too fond of her. She must have been very lonely, and her only friend would have been the nurse that she knew from her native land, Devora. Thus, the reference to Devora is to teach us about Rivka’s sad life after Yaakov left, and this was her punishment, in addition to the fact that she died without seeing Yaakov again, for her involvement in deceiving Yitzhak.

A second point about Devora’s death concerns Yaakov. As mentioned above, it seems that Rivka had died some time before Yaakov returned home, and then Devora stayed with Yitzhak. However, once she heard that Yaakov returned, she set out, even with her advanced age, to see Yaakov. It is possible that this trip caused her to die, but she made it to Yaakov and then Yaakov learned that his mother had died and/ or of her sad life after she left. Thus, in between the time that he built the altar and he received the blessings from G-d he learned these tidings concerning his mother. This news would clearly sadden Yaakov as we see from the name of the tree, the oak of weeping. The timing of this information was also part of his punishment for deceiving Yitzhak. Yaakov was about to receive the blessings that confirmed his victory over Esav, but he could not enjoy the moment since he was sad about the news of his mother and her loyal nurse. Thus, Devora’s death signals one more sad aspect to Yaakov’s life, see 47:9.

Bibliography:

Fox, Everett, 1995, The Five Books of Moses: A new translation, New York: Schocken Books

Kass, Leon, 2003, The Beginning of wisdom, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Keel, Yehuda, 1997, 2000 and 2003, Commentary on Bereshit: Da'at Mikra, Three volumes, Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook.

Leibowitz, Nehama (1905-1997), 1976, Studies in Bereshit, translated by Aryeh Newman, Jerusalem: The World Zionist Organization

Rendsburg, Gary, 1984, A note on Genesis XXXV, Vetus Testamentum, 34:3, pp. 361-365.

Sarna, Nahum (1923-2005), 1989, The JPS Torah Commentary: Genesis, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society.

Silbermann, A. M. and M. Rosenbaum, 1985, initial publication 1934, Chumash with Rashi’s commentary, London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, Ltd, successors to Shapiro Valentine & Co.

Barukh she-petarani - A strange blessing

Bereshit 25:27 records that Esav and Yaakov grew up and developed differently, Esav became a hunter, a man of the fields, while Yaakov stayed at home in the tents. Commenting on this verse, the Midrash (Bereshit Rabbah 63:10) quotes R. Pinhas in the name of R. Levi, "that for 13 years, both Esav and Yaakov went to school and came home. After that age, one (Yaakov) went to the house of study and the other (Esav) to idolatrous shrines." The Midrash continues and quotes R. Eleazar (b. R. Shimon?) who said "A man is responsible for his son until the age of 13; thereafter he must say, barukh she-petarani me-onsho shel zeh – blessed is He who has now freed me from the responsibility of this boy."

While Bereshit Rabbah is one of the earliest Midrashim, (400-500 CE, see Encyclopedia Judaica, 1971, 11:1511) this blessing, barukh she-petarani, is not mentioned in the Talmud or by the Geonim. The blessing is mentioned in the 11th century by R. Yehuda b. Barukh (student of Rabbenu Gershom, source in Gilat, 2002, pp. 60-73). Two centuries later in the 13th century, R. Shimon ben Tzaddok (Germany, Tashbetz 90, student of Maharam Rutenberg) and Hizkuni (Provence, comments on 25:27) quote the Midrash. In the following century, the Maharil (1365-1421, Germany, quoted by Rama, Darkei Moshe, Orah Chayyim 225) quotes the Mordechai (Y. Gilat, above, notes that this comment this is not found in our editions of the Mordecahi) to say the blessings.

We see that at least by the end of the Middle Ages, the custom had developed amongst Ashkenazim to say barukh she-petarani when a boy became 13. This is another example of the connection between the Ashkenazi community in the Middle Ages with the community in Israel in the first millennium since Bereshit Rabbah is a product of the community in Israel. However, the Rambam, the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh do not mention the blessing, and apparently, the Sefardim did not say this blessing in the Middle Ages. (Gilat, source above, quotes one Sefardi Rav, R Yehoshua b. Shuiv, 14th century, that he saw a person say the blessing when his son became 20!)

The Rama (16th century, Poland) quotes this blessing both in the Darkei Moshe and in his comments on the Shulchan Arukh in Orah Chayyim, 225. In the Darkei Moshe he writes that this blessing is difficult since it is not mentioned in the Talmud and by the codifiers, and he rules that one should say the blessing without saying G-d's name, which emasculates the blessing. However, the Gra (1720-1797, comments on Shulchan Arukh, 225, quoted in Mishnah Brurah 225:8) argues with the Rama, and writes that one should say the blessing with G-d's name, as the Maharil did. (My impression is that today most Ashkenazim and Sefardim who now recite the blessing follow the Rama and do not say the blessing with G-d's name, though those people who follow the Gra recite the blessing with G-d's name.)

Why did the Rama change the Ashkenazi custom of saying the blessing with G-d's name? He writes that the reason not to recite the blessing with G-d's name is because it was not mentioned in the Talmud (see Rosh, 1250-1327, on Talmud Kiddushin, 1:41 in reference to a different blessing), but the Rama does not accept this rule. On Orah Chayyim 46:6, the Tur records that Ashkenazim recite the blessing "who give strength to the weary." Commenting on this Tur, R. Yosef Karo (1488-1575) writes in the Bet Yosef that one should not say the blessing since it is not mentioned in the Talmud, and in the Shulchan Arukh (46:6) he writes that though some people say this blessing, it should not be said. However, the Rama in his comments on the Shulchan Arukh writes that the custom of Ashkenazim is to recite the blessing "who give strength to the weary," and as noted by the Mishnah Brurah (46:22) this means to say the blessing with G-d's name, which is the Ashkenazi practice today. We see that that the Rama does not accept the principle that that one should not recite a blessing with G-d's name if the blessing was not mentioned in the Talmud, see comments of Taz 46:7. In addition, we see that the Gra also rejected this principle since he ruled to say the blessing barukh she-petarani with G-d's name. (Another example of a blessing we say with G-d's name that is not mentioned in the Talmud is the blessing by lighting the candles on Shabbat which was introduced by the Geonim. Also, see discussion by the blessing on Hallel on Rosh Chodesh, Shulchan Arukh, Orah Chayyim 422:2 )

A possible difference between the case of the blessing by barukh she-petarani and the blessing "to give strength to the weary," is that the Tur quotes the blessing "to give strength to the weary" but he does not quote the blessing barukh she-petarani. Furthermore, the Rama in the Darkei Moshe says the blessing of barukh she-petarani is not mentioned not just in the Talmud but also not by the codifiers. Is the Rama referring to the Tur when he writes codifiers? Even if yes, this distinction whether the Tur mentions the blessing or not seems quite difficult. Why is the Tur the last person to authorize a new blessing? Furthermore, the Maharil, who was the next great Ashkenazi codifier after the Tur ruled that one is to recite the blessing with G-d's name, and he quotes this from the Mordechai who lived before the Tur. One of the main reasons for the Rama's commentary on the Tur is to add Ashkenazi customs that are not quoted by the Tur and/ or developed after the Tur. Why did the Rama reject the Maharils' ruling to say the blessing with G-d's name?

Maybe the Rama's position by the blessing barukh she-petarani is due to the idea expressed by the blessing. The simple understanding of the blessing (see Magen Avraham, 1637-1683, Poland, Orah Chayyim 225:5) is that the blessing signifies that until a boy become 13 the father is responsible for the sins of his son, but after the son becomes 13 the father will not be punished for his son's actions. This is a very strange blessing since it assumes that the son will sin. In addition, the father is saying the blessing as thanks that he will not be punished for his son's sin, as instead his son will be punished. Which father wants his son to be punished? I think most fathers would rather suffer instead of their children suffering. Possibly because of this difficulty, a student of the Rama, R. Mordecahi Jaffe (Levush, 1535-1612) suggests that the blessing means that the son will not be punished for his father's sins. This also is difficult because the son is assuming the father will sin, and then the son should say the blessing. Furthermore, the source of the blessing is from Yitzhak and Esav, and the point of the Midrash is that Yitzhak was no longer responsible for Esav's sins, and not that Esav was no longer responsible for Yitzhak's sins. I have also heard another apologetic explanation for the blessing that the blessing signifies that the father is exempt from teaching his son Torah. This rationale does not accord with the words of the blessing, and is bizarre. Who makes a blessing when one becomes exempt from having to do a mitzvah?

Accordingly, my guess is that the Rama did not like the blessing barukh she-petarani since it expresses the idea that the son is destined to sin and be punished. However, he could not ignore it completely since it was already the established Ashkenazi custom to say the blessing, so he limited the blessing by ruling that one should not say it with G-d's name. Furthermore, he did not want to write that the blessing has a bad connotation since it was the accepted Ashkenazi custom so he based his ruling on the principle that one does not recite a blessing with G-d's name that is not recorded in the Talmud. (Maybe also by the blessing "to give strength to the weary," the Rama stated that it is to be recited with G-d's name since the blessing expresses a nice idea that at night people go to sleep tired from a day's work, but then G-d re-invigorates them when they wake up, see explanation of the blessing by the Tur.)

Another interesting point of the Rama's ruling is the context where he refers to the blessing. Once the blessing is not mentioned in the Tur and the Shulchan Arukh, the Rama was free to record this blessing anywhere he desired. One would have thought that he would have recorded the blessing within the laws of reading the Torah since the blessing is recited when the child has his first aliyah and the Maharil recorded the blessing in the context of the laws of reading the Torah. Instead, the Rama quotes the blessing within Orah Chayyim 225, which records the blessing shehechianu by the passage of time. Maybe with this placement the Rama was trying to transform the blessing barukh she-petarani from its negative connotation to a positive overtone. The blessing of shehechianu marks joyful events, and hence by recording the blessing barukh she-petarani in the context of the shehechianu blessing, the Rama was trying to make the blessing comparable to the shehechianu blessing, that it marks a joyous event. Whether this was the Rama's intention, today it has become a "happy" blessing, associated with the celebration of the bar (and bat?) mitzvah.

Bereshit 25:23 (Toledot) – Did the all the aspects in the oracle told to Rivka occur?

בראשית כה:כג - ויאמר ה' לה "שני גיים בבטנך ושני לאמים ממעיך יפרדו ולאם מלאם יאמץ ורב יעבד צעיר." 

Bereshit 25:23 records the oracle told to Rivka when she was pregnant about the future of her children, who would be Yaakov and Esav. The oracle consists of one verse in the Torah, and within the verse, there are four elements or parts to the oracle. The first two elements are that there were two nations in Rivka’s womb and that these two nations would separate. While it is not exactly clear what this separation entailed, these statements were actualized with the emergence of the Jewish people and Edom who lived in different areas, and only the Jewish people made a covenant with G-d. The third element of the oracle, uleom muleom yeamtaz, people over people shall prevail (Alter 2004, p. 129, translation) was actualized by the fight between Yaakov and Esav, 32:25-30. The fourth and final line of the oracle is ve-rav yaavod tzair, which refers to Rivka’s eldest son (Esav) and younger son (Yaakov) serving or working. Was this line ever actualized?

The traditional understanding of the fourth element in the oracle is that the phrase means that Esav was destined to serve Yaakov. Based on this understanding, Ibn Ezra (on 25:23 and on 27:40), quotes Rabbenu Saadiah Gaon that the oracle was fulfilled when Esav left the land of Canaan and went to Seir, 36:6. However, Ibn Ezra rejects this possibility since 33:3 records that Yaakov bowed down to Esav seven times, which suggests that it was Yaakov who was serving Esav. I doubt that this bowing down by Yaakov was that significant since afterwards, Yaakov declined Esav's offer to follow him to Seir, 33:12,13 which shows that Yaakov did not view himself as being subservient to Esav. Note, while this bowing down could have been to show that Yaakov was “giving” Yitzhak’s blessings back to Esav, this would not necessarily mean that he viewed himself as being subservient to Esav. Accordingly, maybe R. Saadiah Gaon is correct since when Esav left the land of Israel this was showing that he was subservient to Yaakov. Yet, one could claim that when Esav was in Seir and Yaakov lived in Canaan, both were living independent of each other and not serving one or the other.

Radak (on 25:23) notes that the fourth aspect of the oracle can be understood in two ways, that Esav will serve Yaakov, or that Yaakov will serve Esav. Furthermore, he claims that both interpretations were fulfilled, but not in the lifetimes of Yaakov and Esav. He suggests that the interpretation that Esav would serve Yaakov was fulfilled when David conquered Edom, Samuel II 8:14, and the interpretation that Yaakov would serve Esav was fulfilled when the Christians ruled over the Jews since Chazal view Rome as being the descendants of Esav and Christianity as being the successor to the Romans. I doubt this historical approach since the oracle should refer to events in the Torah and not afterwards, and in this case, it appears that the oracle relates specifically to Rivka's children.

A third possibility to understanding the fourth element of the oracle is to combine the views of the Radak in the second approach with Ibn Ezra’s view discussed in the first approach. This combination would follow the Radak’s idea that the fourth element of the oracle could be understood to mean that Yaakov would serve Esav, and then one can follow the Ibn Ezra’s idea that when Yaakov bowed down to Esav seven times, this showed that Yaakov was being subservient to Esav. My problem with this possibility is that as mentioned above, I think Yaakov’s bowing down was a formality and did not indicate that he was subservient to Esav, and my impression is that the correct understanding of the fourth element of the oracle is the traditional approach that Esav would serve Yaakov.

A fourth possibility to understanding the fourth element of the oracle is that the oracle was conditional. Thus, Rav Huna (Bereshit Rabbah 63:7) argues that the oracle was conditional, that if Yaakov was worthy, Esav would serve him, but if he was not worthy then he would serve Esav. This idea would be similar to the prophecy told to Yonah, who told the people of Ninveh, that in forty days the city would be overthrown, Jonah 3:4, and the city was not destroyed. One could vary this idea, that if Yaakov was not worthy, then the prophecy would not occur at all. Accordingly, maybe since Yaakov stole the blessings, then the last element of the oracle was not fulfilled. However, the oracle seems unconditional unlike by Yonah where the point of the prophecy was to be a warning.

A fifth possibility is that maybe the fourth element of the oracle was fulfilled when Esav went to Edom, but Edom was not serving Yaakov by leaving the land of Israel. Devarim 2:22 records that Esav captured the land of Seir, and the land of Seir was called Edom apparently after Esav's other name Edom. Yet, when Bereshit 36:31-39 records a list of kings of Edom, neither Esav nor his sons appear in the land. Esav conquered the land, but he was not king. Instead, somebody else, who surely from Esav's perspective was a “Johnny come lately” became king. Thus, Esav and/ or his descendants had to serve this king, who from his perspective was his junior. Note, 25:23 does not record the words "the younger," implying Yaakov, but "younger," which could be anybody who was younger. This idea could also explain why the Torah records these kings, see our discussion on Chapter 36, “The rise and fall of Esav.”

According to this fifth approach, Rivka understood correctly that the older son, Esav was to do the serving, but she misunderstood who he was to serve. This is very common in literature that the oracle is only understood in the end of the story. Furthermore, maybe she was not given the correct interpretation as a punishment for asking about the future (see Rashi on 25:22) which was an inappropriate question.

I think the last phrase of the oracle is referring specifically to Esav and Yaakov and not to Esav's descendants. Thus, we are left that either the oracle was not completely fulfilled (see Benno Jacob, 174, p. 167) or R. Saadiah Gaon's approach.

Bibliography:

Alter, Robert, 2004, The five books of Moses: A translation and commentary, New York: W. W. Norton and Company.

Jacob, Benno (1869-1945), 1974, The first book of the bible: Genesis: Commentary abridged, edited and translated by Earnest I. Jacob and Walter Jacob, New York: Ktav Publishing House.   

Bereshit 18:17-22:19 (Va-yera) - Human Knowledge and the Theodicy Question

I believe there is one theme that underlies all of the events in chapters 18–22, the question of evil in the world. This is the most difficult challenge to the belief in G-d. How can G-d allow evil to exist in the world? As the Torah is a religious document it would be surprising if this question is not dealt with in the Torah, but the question is where? Many (due to Milton?) believe that the story of the Garden of Eden is the Torah's answer to evil in the world, that mankind sinned. However, as discussed above, I believe that Adam and Chava were supposed to eat from the fruit of the tree of knowledge, and hence their sin could not have doomed mankind. Instead, it is the events of chapters 18-22 that deal with the presence of evil in the world, and this is an appropriate place in the Torah for such a discussion as it follows chapter 17, which records the religious covenant of Avraham with G-d.

The question of evil begins with the discussion between Avraham and G-d concerning the fate of Sedom. However, prior to this discussion, 18:19 records that G-d wanted to explain to Avraham what was about to happen since Avraham's children would follow the ways of G-d to do what is just and right (JPS translation). This concern is not just with the judgment of Sedom, but rather G-d wanted Avraham to understand how G-d judged the world since only with this knowledge would Avraham's children be willing to follow in the ways of G-d.

18:20,21 record that G-d informed Avraham that the people of Sedom and Amora were evil and hinted that they were to be severely punished. G-d knew that Avraham would be concerned about the fate of the people of Sedom since he had saved them from the four kings, 14:21-23. Avraham presented two separate arguments to save the people of Sedom. The first, 18:23,25 is that the righteous should be saved, and the second, 18:24, is that even the evil people should be saved on the account of the righteous people. 18:25 ends the questions with an explicit challenge to G-d, "Shall then the judge of the whole earth not do justice?" Note the first question is the stronger question, as this is the theodicy question how come bad things happen to good people.

G-d responded to Avraham that if there were fifty righteous people then the city of Sedom would be spared, 18:26. This would seem to be the end of the discussion because G-d had even agreed to save the bad people on account of the presence of the good people. However, Avraham then continued to whittle down the number of required righteous people, from 50 to 45 to 40 to 30 to 20 to 10, and each time G-d agreed not to destroy the city based on Avraham's request. Why did Avraham start at fifty and stop at ten?

Avraham knew the people of Sedom. After he liberated them from the four kings, they had traveled together from Damascus down to the Dead Sea. In addition, most likely the people of Sedom would have been very grateful to Avraham. Furthermore, their behavior was probably more restrained when traveling on the road than when they were at home. Thus, Avraham did not think that all of the people of Sedom were sinners, and he thought for sure that there were fifty people who were not evil.

Avraham might have thought that G-d would respond by agreeing to a higher number 150, and then they would compromise at 100. However, G-d surprised Avraham by agreeing to 50, and then Avraham wondered maybe he could reduce the number to be sure that Sedom would not be destroyed. He stopped at ten, as Wenham (1994) notes that, "the tone of G-d's replies conveys the feeling that He cannot be pushed much further." Thus, Avraham was uncomfortable to keep reducing the number, but as he thought that for sure there were fifty innocent people in Sedom, then he was extremely confident that there were at least ten innocent people in Sedom.

The point of the discussion is not the numbers themselves, but to show the abyss between G-d's knowledge and man's knowledge. G-d knew how many righteous people there were in Sedom while Avraham had no idea. Avraham thought he knew the people of Sedom, but 19:4 records that all were evil since they all attacked the malakhim who came to visit Lot. Avraham's challenge to G-d was based on the idea that man can judge G-d, but through this discussion G-d showed that man is unable to judge G-d since man's knowledge cannot compare to G-d. Once this fact is established, the theodicy question is effectively answered; man cannot judge G-d.

The episodes after the destruction of Sedom also continue with the theodicy question. The next episode is the encounter between Avraham and Avimelekh, and this has two parts, 20:1-18 and 21:22-34. This episode explains that some of the people who suffer only appear to be innocent. 20:2 records that Avimelekh had his servants take Sara because he had been told that she was Avraham's sister. Yet, even if Sara was Avraham's sister, he still abducted her, and there is no mention that Sara agreed to be taken.

G-d appeared to Avimelekh in a dream to warn him that he was going to die for kidnapping Sara. Avimelekh responded by claiming that he was innocent, tam levavi ve-nekayon kapay, since neither Sara nor Avraham had stated that she was a married woman, 20:3-5. G-d responded that Avimelekh had acted with tam levavecha, but as pointed out by Rashi (on 20:6), G-d did not say that Avimelekh acted with nekayon kapay (clean hands). Many translators (see for example JPS) explain that tam levavecha means blameless and then Avimelekh is understood as being innocent. However, tam here means whole (see Fox) that Avimelekh's heart was whole as he had no doubts in his heart (see Hirsch) that he was innocent. Avimelekh's logic was that as long as a woman is not married, then the ruler of the area has a right to have sexual relations with her. Thus, he believed that he was acting in an appropriate manner, and hence he was whole with his heart. However, just because he thought rape with an unmarried woman is permitted, this does not make it morally right. Thus, when G-d responded to Avimelekh's claim of innocence, G-d did not state that Avimelekh acted with nekayon kapay, clean hands, since Avimelekh's hands were not clean, as he had wanted to rape Sara. We see that human knowledge (Avimelekh's) cannot equal the knowledge of G-d.

Avraham understood that Avimelekh was a fraud, and this can be seen on two occasions. When Avimelekh questioned Avraham, Avraham responded by accusing Avimelekh of being a potential murderer and of being a leader of a lawless place, 20:11. Avraham was arguing that while Avimelekh claimed to be innocent really he was guilty since an upright person would not be the leader of an evil population. Second, in 21:22, Avimelekh came to make a treaty with Avraham, and yet at the same time his servants were stealing the wells of Avraham, 21:25. Avraham reproached Avimelekh about the theft, but Avimelekh denied all knowledge of his servants' actions since as usual he claimed he was innocent, 21:25,26.

Meir Sternberg (1985) points out that the impression that Avimelekh is innocent is enhanced by the fact that the Torah waits until the end of the incident, 20:18, to relate that immediately after Avimelekh took Sara he was punished by becoming impotent. 20:4 records that Avimelekh did not approach Sara as part of his claim of innocence. The fact that he did not force himself upon Sara might lead one to think that he was acting honorably, but in reality he did not approach Sara since he was unable physically to have sexual relations with her. As Sternberg notes "His spirit was willing enough, only the flesh turned weak," and in 20:6 we learn that it was only G-d's intervention which stopped him from raping Sara. Thus, again the story of Avimelekh is where a person appears and claims to be innocent, but in reality is guilty.

The ensuing episode is the banishment of Hagar and Yishmael in order that Yishmael would not challenge Yitzhak's inheritance, 21:1-21. The banishment caused both Yishmael and Hagar to suffer, but it is difficult to argue that they deserved this punishment since the threat to Yitzhak was Yishmael's existence in the house and not something he had done. This impression is strengthened by the fact that Torah refers to him as a child, 21:14-16, even though he was at least fourteen years old. Avraham was worried about Yishmael, 21:11, but G-d told Avraham not to worry since Yishmael would found a nation. In the end the banishment was good for Yishmael because had he stayed in Avraham's house he still would have lost out to Yitzhak and he would not have founded a nation. This is a third answer to the presence of evil in the world. It is true that people sometimes suffer, but sometimes in the end the person is led to a better situation then previously, gam zu le-tovah. Furthermore, this episode again shows the abyss between human knowledge and G-d's knowledge. Avraham was worried about Yishmael, but G-d who knows the future knew that everything would be good with Yishmael.

The final episode is the akedah, 22:1-19. In this case, while Yitzhak was not killed he must have suffered when he realized that Avraham intended to kill him, and it is a possible that his passive behavior was an outcome of the akedah. Yitzhak clearly did not deserve to be punished since G-d was testing Avraham (22:1), and we never read that Yitzhak received any rewards for the akedah, only that Avraham was rewarded, 22:17-18. In this case, the Torah gives no explanation for Yitzhak's suffering, but we know that the entire incident was orchestrated by G-d as G-d decided to test Avraham and G-d stopped Avraham from killing Yitzhak, 22:1,11. This is the final response to the question of evil that sometimes there is no explanation but still this is not grounds to question G-d's existence. Again, we see that human knowledge is not comparable to G-d's knowledge as Avraham really believed that G-d wanted him to kill Yitzhak when really it was all a test. In addition, Avraham did not protest G-d's command to sacrifice Yitzhak as he did when G-d punished Sedom since he learned that his knowledge was not comparable to G-d's knowledge. Therefore, Avraham could no longer judge or question G-d.

All four episodes discussed above answer the question that Avraham asked of G-d in 18:25, "Shall then the judge of the whole earth not do justice?" Three episodes showed that in some cases, the existence of evil with a good G-d can be understood, but the fourth episode shows that at times the existence of evil is inexplicable as R. Yannai states "It is not in our hands (to understand) the security of the wicked or the suffering of the righteous," (Pirkei Avot 4:19). However, man cannot judge G-d since human knowledge is not comparable to divine knowledge.

Bereshit 15:9-21 (Lekh Lekha) - To cut the gap

Bereshit 15:9 records that G-d told Avram to take a three year old calf, a three year old goat, a three year old ram, and two birds. (This follows Ibn Ezra, but Rashi and Ramban explain that Avram was to take three calves, three goats and three rams.) Avram was to cut the mammals in half and lay each half facing each other, but the birds were not to be cut, 15:10. Vultures descended on the animals, but Avram chased them away, 15:11. Avram was then told a prophecy that his descendants would suffer in a foreign land but the fourth generation would return to the land, 15:12-16. After this prophecy, a fire (a smoking oven and a fiery torch), which symbolized G-d's presence, passed between the pieces, and G-d made a covenant that Avram's children would inherit the land, 15:17-21. Accordingly, this covenant is referred to as the covenant of (between) the pieces. This ceremony raises several questions.

Is there any significance to the type of animals chosen? One answer (see Genesis Rabbah 44:14,15, Rashi on 15:6,9 and Rambam on 15:10), is that prior to the ceremony Avram has asked by what merit would his descendants would inherit the land and G-d answered him by the merit of the sacrifices. Thus, the choice of animals was because G-d was instructing Avraham which animals would be suitable for sacrifices. Benno Jacob (quoted by N. Leibowitz, 1976, p.149) argues that the ceremony here has no connection with sacrifices since there was no altar, no blood was poured out and nothing was burnt. Instead, he suggests that the animals were simply chosen because they were available. Another possibility is that though the animals were not meant as sacrifices still they had to be pure animals since the fire that passed through them symbolized G-d's presence.

Why were the mammals divided? Rashi (on 15:10) explains that the ancient way to make a covenant was for an animal to be split and for the partners in the covenant to pass through the divided animal. Thus, in Hebrew the description for making a covenant is literally called to cut a covenant. Rashi quotes Jeremiah 34:18-20 which records that the princes of Yehuda and Yerushalayim passed between a divided calf in order to impress upon them that if they did not keep the covenant, then they would be punished and would become food for the animals. The passing through the animals was a type of self-imprecation, where the person accepts upon himself a potential punishment for not upholding his part of the covenant.

The idea would then be that the mammals were divided in order for the fire to pass through them, and this passing through established the covenant. Yet, can the passing of the fire through the animals signify the idea of self-imprecation as occured by Jeremiah 34? Was G-d calling upon Himself a future punishment? Gerhard Hasel (1981) argues that one cannot compare Jeremiah 34 to Bereshit 15 since it cannot be that G-d is making a self-imprecation. Instead, he points out that ancient treaties from the second millennium BCE invoke the killing of an animal as a "rite of treaty ratification, symbolizing the binding status of the covenanting parties," and by these treaties there was no evidence that one or both parties to the treaty passed through the animals. Thus, just the cutting of the animals signified the making of the covenant. Why then did the fire pass through the pieces? Hasel suggests that this act was a divine ratification of the covenant that G-d "irrevocably pledged the fulfillment of His covenant promise to the patriarchs." Another possibility is from the Rashbam (on Shemot 33:18) that the fire was an example of a theophany which accompanies all the covenants with G-d.

Why did Avram not pass through the animals either before or after the fire? Maybe Avram did not need to pass between the animals since the covenant did not obligate him in anyway because the covenant was G-d's promise that Avram's descendants would inherit the land. In addition, as explained by Hasel, there was no need for Avram to pass through the animals since the covenant was made just with the cutting up of the animals.

Why were the birds not divided? Ramban (on 15:10, also see Hizkuni) explains that since there were two birds one could be placed facing the other, and then there was no need to cut up the birds. Thus, in total there were two columns (or rows) with each column having half a calf, half a goat, half a ram and a bird.

Why was there a need for three mammals and two birds? In the ceremony recorded in Jeremiah 34 only one calf was divided. Why here was one animal not sufficient? Many commentators have viewed the number of animals as having a symbolic message. For example, Rashi (on 15:10, also see Radak) suggests that the mammals were symbolic of the nations of the world, while the Jewish people were symbolized by the birds.

Benno Jacob (also see S.R. Hirsch) writes that the divided animals represented three generations that would suffer slavery in Egypt, while the birds which were not divided symbolized the generation that would go free. N. Leibowitz likes this approach since it provides a connection between Avram's action with the animals and the prophecy of the slavery in Egypt. Yet, this symbolism is difficult since it is not clear how the division of the animals relates to the suffering in Egypt and we have no knowledge how many generations actually were slaves in Egypt. Furthermore, the end and the crucial point of the prophecy is that the fourth generation would return to the land of Israel, but according to this symbolism the birds just symbolize that the fourth generation goes free from Egypt and do not indicate that the generation would return to the land of Israel. However, the idea of relating the symbolism to the numbers three and four is logical because in total there were four animals in each column and the number three is stressed both by the age of the mammals and by the fact that there were three mammals.

My guess is that the four sets of animals relate to the history of the generations of Avram and his immediate descendants. In each of the first three generations, there was a split in the family, Avram and Lot, Yitzhak and Yishmael, and Yaakov and Esav. These separations in Avram's family were symbolized by the division of the mammals. The fourth generation began as two families, the sons of Lea and Rahel, which is symbolized by the two birds, but in the end this generation joined together when Yehuda risked his life for Binyamin (45:18-34), and this is symbolized by the fact that the birds were not divided.

The unity of the fourth generation explains an anomaly of the text. 15:9 refers to two birds, but 15:10 uses the singular term bird. It is true that the singular can function as a collective noun, but why not use the plural? Radak writes that the use of the singular symbolizes that all the Jewish people would be unified even when they were dispersed throughout the world, but I think it signifies the unity of the fourth generation, the children of Yaakov.

In addition, I believe that the prophecy of the return of the fourth generation refers to Yosef and his generation (see discussion below). Thus, there is a parallelism between the symbolism of the number of animals and the ensuing prophecy, that both refer to the set of same four generations that begins with Avram.

15:11 records that vultures attempted to eat the animals, and Avram chased them away. It seems that the vultures attempted to eat all of the animals, but Radak argues that the vultures only attacked the birds. In any event, why is this action by the vultures and Avram recorded in the Torah? Again, these actions are viewed as being symbolic; see for example comments of the Ramban and Radak (on 15:11).
My guess is that the symbolism is that the covenant is unconditional. If the vultures just attempted to eat the birds, who according to my understanding refer to the fourth generation, then the message is that the promise that the fourth generation would return to the land of Israel was unconditional. On the other hand, if the vultures attempted to eat all the animals, then the idea is that the promise of land to all of the four generations was unconditional. Thus, the Jewish people were forbidden from taking the land of Lot's children, Moav and Ammon, and Esav's children when they marched towards the land of Israel, Devarim 2:5,9,19. With regard to the Yishmael 17:20 and 21:13 record G-d's promise that his children would become a separate nation and 25:18 records that they lived in a wide expanse of land.

Bereshit 8:21 (Noah) - Is man evil?

At the end of the flood, Noah left the ark and offered sacrifices to G-d, Bereshit 8:20. 8:21 records G-d’s response: “The Lord smelled the pleasing odor, and the Lord said to Himself, ‘Never again will I doom the earth because of man, since the devisings of man’s mind are evil from his youth; (ki yetser lev ha-adam ra me-neurav) nor will I ever again destroy every living being, as I have done (JPS translation, Sarna 1989).”

The phrase “the devisings of man are evil” is difficult within the overall story of the flood. Cassuto (1964, p.120, see also Hizkuni) notes that the phrase has been understood to mean that since man is by nature evil, man cannot be responsible for his actions. This clemency would explain the two promises of 8:21 that the earth will not be cursed again due to mankind and that there will never again be universal retribution upon humanity. However, the idea that man is evil not only appears after the flood in 8:21, but also before the flood. 6:5 records, “The Lord saw how great was man’s wickedness on earth, and how every plan devised by his mind was nothing but evil all the time.” As Sarna (1989, p.59) notes the repetition of the evil of man’s mind “makes for an inclusion, or envelope structure,” from the beginning to the end of the flood narrative. Yet, Sarna also notes the difficulty of this repetition since in 6:5 the idea that man’s thoughts were evil was apparently the reason for the flood while the same idea in 8:21 is apparently a justification for why there will be no future destruction either of mankind or of the earth.

The phrase “the devisings of man’s mind are evil” also seems to be in disaccord with the beginning of 8:21 which records that G-d smelled the pleasing odor of Noah’s sacrifices. It is clear that G-d’s smelling is an anthropomorphic term, and that the verse is just telling us that G-d approved the sacrifices, see Ibn Ezra on 8:21. Yet, how can the idea that G-d was pleased relate to the idea that the “devisings of man’s mind are evil?” Furthermore, Noah seems to have acted in a positive manner, yet we are then told that man’s mind always thinks evil thoughts.

Finally, the phrase “the devisings of man’s mind are evil” is also difficult as a general description of mankind independent of the textual issues. Is man intrinsically good or not? Most people would want to believe yes, as who wants to think of themselves as evil? Also, why would G-d create mankind if by nature man is evil? Also, after the creation of man, G-d declared that everything was good, 1:31, yet how could that be if man is evil?

Yehuda Nachshoni (1987, p.31) quotes the Bina la-Ettim (R. Azarya Figo, Venice, 1579-1647) that 8:21 refers to the evil desire, which can have a positive aspect in causing man to develop his world. This idea is based on a comment by Nahman in R. Shmuel's name (Bereshit Rabbah 9:7 on Bereshit 1:31) who states that man was considered very good because he was created with the evil desire. The Midrash explains that if there was no evil desire, then no man would build a house, take a wife and beget children. Thus, G-d had to create mankind with this evil desire for the world to exist. The Bina la-Ettim suggests that before the flood, the evil desire was only used for evil, but after the flood, when Noah offered his sacrifices then the evil desire was being used for good. Yet, how can Noah's sacrifices be considered as emanating from his evil desire?

The term yester in 8:21 should be understood based on Adam Smith's invisible hand, see Ohrenstein and Gordon, 1992, pp.35-45. Adam Smith wrote in the Wealth of Nations, (1776, p.423), “He (any person) generally, indeed, neither intends to promote the public interest, nor knows how much he is promoting it… He intends only for his own gain, and he is in this… led by an invisible hand to promote an end which was no part of his intention.” The idea of the invisible hand is that even though man is selfish still in a competitive market the selfishness leads to the most efficient outcome.

The reference to man's evil nature in 6:5 and 8:21 is to man’s selfishness, which can prompt mankind to act evil but also can cause man to act good. In 6:5, mankind's selfishness prompted man to act wickedly, but in 8:21 the same selfishness prompted Noah to offer sacrifices. Why did Noah offer sacrifices when he left the ark? Cassuto explain that it was to thank G-d for saving him. It was Noah’s selfish instincts to want to survive and the satisfaction of his instincts led him to thank G-d, a good deed. Yet, this was a selfish act since he was thanking G-d that he was saved, as opposed to the other people who were killed.

Man’s selfishness is a test. One can be concerned about good causes and then selfishness is “a good thing” or one’s selfishness can lead one to run amuck and then it is negative. Due to this second possibility, there was a need for laws to suppress the negative consequences of man’s selfishness. The introduction of laws is the new situation after the flood. Prior to the flood, mankind existed without any laws, but after the flood there would be laws, 9:4-6, which hopefully would prevent the wickedness that existed prior to the flood from re-occurring. (Possibly, G-d did not just start the world with laws to answer the anarchist’s (Rousseau's) claim that the world would be better with no laws. G-d initially allowed the world to exist with no laws and it was a disaster.)

When 6:5-8 records that the world was to be destroyed but Noah was to live, this meant that the world was to be destroyed in order to start the world again. Yet, the conditions in the world were to be changed because the new world would have a system of laws. The flood was to enable the world to start anew, with a new set of conditions. 8:21, the envelope of 6:5, is telling the reader that man's selfishness can be used for good, and G-d states that He will not destroy the world again since man can be good. The question is just how to increase the chance that man's selfish nature would lead to good outcomes and this is through the laws that follow. Furthermore, with the introduction of laws, there was no reason to destroy humanity or the world again (8:21, 9:1) in order to establish a new system.

In conclusion, 8:21 is telling us that man is intrinsically selfish from birth, which is usually considered a negative characteristic, but it can lead a person to be good. It remains to one’s education and the laws to encourage the positive aspects of selfishness to assert itself.

Devarim chapter 34 (Ve-zo’t Ha-berakhah): Ibn Ezra and the end of the Torah

Devarim 34:5 records that Moshe died, but the Torah has another eight verses. This raises the question recorded in the Talmud (Baba Bathra 15a), how could Moshe have written the remainder of the Torah, the last eight sentences, if he was dead? Rabbi Yehuda, or maybe Rabbi Nehemiah, answers that really Yehoshua wrote the last eight sentences of the Torah. Rabbi Shimon disputes this since according to Rabbi Yehuda the Torah would have been incomplete when Moshe handed the Torah over to the priests (in Devarim 31:25). Thus, Rabbi Shimon claims that Moshe wrote the last eight sentences with tears since he was writing about his death. The problem with the second approach is that 34:5 is written in the past, but if Moshe wrote about his death it should have been phrased in the future.

Heschel (1965, pp. 381-391) argues that the two answers represent two different approaches to understanding the Torah. Rabbi Shimon follow the school of Rabbi Akiva that the whole Torah was given on Mount Sinai, while Rabbi Yehuda or Rabbi Nehemiah follow the school of Rabbi Yishmael that only the main principles were given on Mount Sinai.

While the Talmud discusses whether Moshe or Yehoshua wrote the last eight sentences of the Torah, 34:5-12, Ibn Ezra (1089-1164, on 34:1, also see comments on 34:6) argues that all of chapter 34 was written by Yehoshua. Ibn Ezra’s reason in that 34:1 records that Moshe went up on Mount Nevo, and there is no mention that Moshe came down again. How could Moshe have written even the beginning of chapter 34 if he was unable to hand it over to anybody? One possibility is that Moshe wrote the beginning of chapter 34 before he went up the mountain, as a future prophecy. Yet, 34:1 records that Moshe went up, in the past, and not that Moshe will go up, as would have been needed if chapter 34 was written as a future prophecy. A second possibility is that somebody went up with Moshe but this also seems to be ruled out by 34:6 that nobody knew where Moshe was buried. It seems unlikely that somebody (Yehoshua?) went up with Moshe and then came down before Moshe died.

Pinchas Horowitz (1730-1805, Panim Yafot) suggests that really Moshe went up twice, and 34:1 only records the first time. However, this also is difficult since there is no indication of this double climb in the Torah.

Chatam Sofer, (1762-1839, a student of Pinchas Horowitz, in Torat Moshe, Chatam Sofer al haTorah) suggests but then rejects the possibility that Moshe wrote 34:1-4 on the mountain, and left it for the Jewish people to find. He rejects this idea since 31:26 records that Moshe gave the Torah to the Levites, and it seems that he accepted Ibn Ezra’s explanation.

David Hoffman (1961, p. 573) deduces from the Ramban's comments on 31:24 that the Ramban agreed to the Ibn Ezra's opinion that Yehoshua wrote all of chapter 34. Heschel (1965, p. 392) suggests that Tosafot in Megillah 21b Tana also follows Ibn Ezra’s explanation. In addition, Yehuda Nachshoni (1987, p. 843), writes that Ibn Ezra’s approach is basically the approach in the Talmud that Yehoshua wrote the last 8 sentences since what is the difference whether Yehoshua wrote the last 8 or the last 12 sentences?

This comment by Ibn Ezra on 34:1 shows that he did not believe that Moshe wrote the whole Torah, and he has other comments which seem to indicate that there were other verses or parts of verses that he also thought were written after Moshe died. Most famously, on Devarim 1:2, Ibn Ezra writes “that if one knows the meaning of the twelve, Bereshit 12:6, Bereshit 22:14, Devarim 3:11 and 31:22, then one will know the truth.” It is likely that the phrase “the meaning of the twelve” is referring to the twelve verses in chapter 34, but this cannot be known conclusively, see Luzzatto’s comments on Devarim 1:1. However, if it true, then this implies that Ibn Ezra thinks that the other verses that he mentions were similar to what he explained on chapter 34, which means that just as he thinks that chapter 34 was added to the Torah after Moshe died, so too these verses or phrases were added to the Torah after Moshe died. Furthermore, maybe one could add that just as Ibn Ezra believes that Yehoshua added chapter 34 to the Torah, so too he thinks that Yehoshua added the other verses or phrases to the Torah.

Marc Shapiro (1993, p. 202) lists 15 Rabbi’s from the 13th to the 20th centuries who understood Ibn Ezra to be saying that he considered the five cases he mentioned in his comments on Devarim 1:2 to have been included in the Torah after the time of the Moshe, which would be the meaning of the phrase “know the truth.” Simon (2013, pp. 407-464) has an extensive discussion on how people understood Ibn Ezra’s comments and he seems to conclude that the best understanding of Ibn Ezra’s words is that Ibn Ezra believed that the phrases or verses which he mentioned in his comments on Devarim 1:2 were added after Moshe. Simon also points out that in addition to the verses mentioned in Ibn Ezra’s comments on Devarim 1:2 and not including his explicit comments on Devarim 34:1,6, Ibn Ezra also hinted in his comments on Bereshit 13:7 (which is similar to Bereshit 12:6), Bemidbar 13:24, and Devarim 11:30, that the verses were either not written by Moshe or were written by Moshe as a prophecy of the future. Simon also explains that Ibn Ezra refers to his comment on Devarim 1:2 in his comments on Bereshit 22:14.

Michael Friedlander (1963/64, pp. 60-67) argues that Ibn Ezra only believed that chapter 34 was not written by Moshe. Friedlander disputes the idea that in his comments on Devarim 1:2, Ibn Ezra was implying that the particular verses were not written by Moshe. Friedlander argues that had Ibn Ezra had that opinion he would have written it clearly as he did on 34:1. Furthermore, Friedlander claims that when Ibn Ezra wrote on Devarim 1:2, “you shall know the truth” this refers “to some philosophic theory which Ibn Ezra believed to be hidden in the Biblical text.” Friedlander further suggests that as three of the verses quoted by Ibn Ezra refer to geography and archeology, Ibn Ezra was puzzled why they were included in the Torah since he did not think these were important subjects. Finally, Friedlander questions whether we really know which are the first two verses referred to by Ibn Ezra in his comments on Devarim 1:2, and again he speculates that they were part of the list since Ibn Ezra could not understand why they were included in the Torah.

There are two other comments of the Ibn Ezra that are pertinent to understanding his view of whether Moshe wrote the entire Torah. One, on Bereshit 36:31, Ibn Ezra quotes an opinion of somebody named Yitzhaki who suggested that the list of kings of Edom was included in the Torah in the times of Yehoshafat, 9th century BCE, many years after Moshe. Ibn Ezra sharply rebukes this opinion and states that Yitzhaki’s book should be burnt for this suggestion. Two, on Bemidbar 21:1, Ibn Ezra quotes in the name of many, that the verses which record the battle with the King of Arad happened in the time of Yehoshua and thus Yehoshua and not Moshe would have written Bemidbar 21:1-3. He rejects this possibility but not in as critical manner as he does with regards to Yitzhaki.

Why did Ibn Ezra castigate Yitzhaki for suggesting that Moshe did not write Bereshit 36:31-43 if he believed that there were other verses in the Torah not written by Moshe?

Menachem Kasher (1992, Vol. 19, p. 378) writes that after Ibn Ezra said that the book of Yitzhaki is to be burnt, then there is no way that Ibn Ezra believed that any part of the Torah was written after Moshe. Thus, he claims that any comments that give the opposite impression were not written by Ibn Ezra but inserted later. This idea was already suggested by Shmuel Zarza (Mekor Hayyim, supercommentary on Ibn Ezra, 14th century), but it is a very difficult argument without any other proof that these comments were not from Ibn Ezra.

Joseph ben Eliezer Bonfils (14th century, supercommentary on Ibn Ezra, Tzafenat Pane’ah) argues that Ibn Ezra distinguishes between adding words and sections. According to this, Ibn Ezra was willing to allow words to be added to the Torah, but not a complete section like the list of kings of Edom. The problem is that Ibn Ezra claims that Yehoshua wrote all of chapter 34 and this certainly was a complete section.

Friedlander (pp. 221-223) quotes R. Shemtob ben Joseph Shaprut of Toledo (2nd half of the 14th century) who suggested that all the verses mentioned by Ibn Ezra were additions made by Yehoshua. According to this, Ibn Ezra accepted that only Yehoshua could add to the Torah. Presumably the reason would be that not only was Yehoshua a prophet, as recognized in the Torah, Bemidbar 27:18-21 and Devarim 31:23, but also he was the student of Moshe. (Also, on Devarim 18:15, Ibn Ezra suggests that Yehoshua was to be the prophet who was comparable to Moshe.) Ibn Ezra then was critical of Yitzhaki since Yitzhaki’s explanation was that the list of kings of Edom was added to the Torah after the time of Moshe and Yehoshua.

Uriel Simon offers two other explanations. One, (1982, p. 677) Ibn Ezra accepted additions to the Torah only when he thought that the particular verses could not have been written by Moshe, but Ibn Ezra accepted that Moshe could write about the future through prophecy. For example with regards to chapter 34, as explained above, Ibn Ezra thought Moshe could not possibly have written the verses. However, with regards to the list of kings of Edom in Bereshit 36, Moshe could have known this through prophecy, and thus Ibn Ezra rejected Yitzhaki’s approach. (Ibn Ezra in his commentary on Bereshit 36:31 also explains that the kings of Edom were before the time of Moshe.)

Two, Simon (1993, pp. 299-317) suggests that Ibn Ezra thought Yitzhaki was a pretentious but unqualified commentator, and thus "Ibn Ezra would not allow an unqualified commentator to do what he himself did." I doubt this suggestions since it can only explain why Ibn Ezra rejected and ridiculed Yitzhaki’s approach, but not why he called for the book to be burnt.

Even if Ibn Ezra only believed that Yehoshua wrote chapter 34, this means that he did not accept the Rambam’s eighth principle of faith that one must believe that the Torah we have today is exactly what was given to Moshe. (The list of principles is in the Rambam’s Introduction to Helek, chapter eleven in Sanhedrin based on the Talmud, but chapter ten based on Mishnah. The complete list is quoted in English in Twersky, 1972, pp. 401-423. Also see Mishnah Torah, Laws of Repentance, 3:8.) The Rambam was born in 1135 (1138?) when Ibn Ezra was forty six, which means that Ibn Ezra probably never knew or even heard of the Rambam, even though both were from Spain (Ibn Ezra left Spain in 1140), but the Rambam could have known about the Ibn Ezra. Could it be that the Rambam’s eighth principle of faith was because he was attempting to refute Ibn Ezra’s opinion?

How did the Ibn Ezra understand the Talmud that was the basis for the Rambam’s eighth principle of faith? The Talmud (Sanhedrin 99a) states that a person who accepts that all of the Torah is from G-d except for one verse which Moshe wrote on his own, is guilty of “despising the word of G-d” (Bemidbar 15:31) for which the punishment is karet.

This statement in the Talmud is problematic not just for Ibn Ezra but also for the opinion in the Talmud that Yehoshua wrote the last eight verses of the Torah. Heschel (1965, pp. 91-93, 381-5) argues that the difficulty is because one is confusing the school of R. Akiva and the school of R. Yishmael. He argues that it is the opinion of R. Akiva’s school that one cannot say that one verse is from Moshe or anybody else, and this is the same opinion that Moshe wrote the last eight sentences of the Torah. However, the school of R. Yishmael understands that the sin of “despising the word of G-d” refers to committing idolatry, as one has despised the first commandment of the Decalogue which was said by G-d, and thus this school can accept that the last eight verses in the Torah were written by Yehoshua. Accordingly, maybe Ibn Ezra was following the school of R. Yishmael, while Rambam followed the school of R. Akiva.

Simon (2013, p. 429) quotes Joseph ben Eliezer Bonfils (Tzafenat Pane’ah) who argued that the opinion in Sanhedrin 99a that a person cannot state that any verse was written by Moshe on his own was only referring to laws and not to narrative, while all of the verses where Ibn Ezra might have suggested that Moshe did not write them are narrative. R. Menachem Kasher (Torah Shelemah, 1982, Vol. 19, p. 378) quotes this opinion and completely rejects it.

Dr. Shnayer Z. Leiman (contemporary, on tape titled “Torah min ha-Shamayim”, available at www.torahtapes.org, also see Leiman 2003, pp. 21,22) discusses two other ways (not in accordance with the Rambam) to understand the view in the Talmud that one cannot say that a verse in the Torah is not from G-d but Moshe wrote it on his own. One, the Talmud is not rejecting the view that later prophets could have added to the Torah since that is not despising the word of G-d because prophecy is also the word of G-d. Thus, Ibn Ezra on 34:1 writes that Yehoshua wrote chapter 34 with prophecy. A second possibility is that the Talmud only forbids one to say that Moshe wrote the Torah on his own, but that does not preclude the possibility that some verses were added after the time of Moshe.

In conclusion, for sure Ibn Ezra believed that Moshe did not write chapter 34 of the book of Devarim, and it is highly likely that there are a few other verses or phrases in the Torah which he also thought were added after Moshe’s life. It is possible that he thought that all of these additions were done by Yehoshua, but this cannot be known definitely. Finally, most likely he did not view this belief as being a contradiction to the Talmud in Sanhedrin 99a possibly for one of the four reasons mentioned above.