Tazria is not read very often; it is either read together with Metzora, or it’s Parshat HaChodesh, but when we do read it, it’s a great story of one of Elisha’s miracles:
Linear Annotated Translation of the Haftarah of Tazria
What we learn from Na’aman’s Tzaraat: Catalyst for Change
Filed under Sefer Vayikra, Tazria
The Haftarah of Pekudei describes the completion of the building of the Beit HaMikdash (Temple), just as the Parsha of Pekudei describes the completion of the building of the Mishkan (Tabernacle). It is not surprising to find that there are parallels in the descriptions.
Parshat Pekudei says the following:
וַתֵּכֶל כָּל עֲבֹדַת מִשְׁכַּן אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד וַיַּעֲשׂוּ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל כְּכֹל אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ אֶת מֹשֶׁה כֵּן עָשׂוּ. וַיַּרְא מֹשֶׁה אֶת כָּל הַמְּלָאכָה וְהִנֵּה עָשׂוּ אֹתָהּ כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ כֵּן עָשׂוּ וַיְבָרֶךְ אֹתָם מֹשֶׁה
All the work of the Mishkan was concluded; Bnei-Yisrael had made exactly what Hashem commanded Moshe, so they made. Moshe saw all the construction; and behold, it had been made as Hashem had commanded, so it was made. Moshe blessed them. (Shemot 39:32,43)
and in the Haftarah:
וַתִּשְׁלַם כָּל הַמְּלָאכָה אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה הַמֶּלֶךְ שְׁלֹמֹה בֵּית ה’… וַיַּסֵּב הַמֶּלֶךְ אֶת פָּנָיו וַיְבָרֶךְ אֵת כָּל קְהַל יִשְׂרָאֵל
All the construction was completed that King Shlomo had made for Beit-Hashem…The king turned his face and blessed all the assembly of Yisrael. (Melachim I 7:51, 8:14)
The description focuses on the completion of the work and the blessing that was given by the maker. If that sounds familiar, it is because these are the same words that are used in the Creation of the World itself:
וַיְכַל אֱ-לֹהִים בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי מְלַאכְתּוֹ אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה וַיִּשְׁבֹּת בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי מִכָּל מְלַאכְתּוֹ אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה. וַיְבָרֶךְ אֱ-לֹהִים אֶת יוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי וַיְקַדֵּשׁ אֹתוֹ כִּי בוֹ שָׁבַת מִכָּל מְלַאכְתּוֹ אֲשֶׁר בָּרָא אֱ-לֹהִים לַעֲשׂוֹת
G-d concluded on the seventh day the construction that He had made. He rested on the seventh day from all the construction that He had made. G-d blessed the seventh day and made it holy, for on it He stopped all the construction that G-d had created to make. (Bereishit 2:2-3)
The wording used to describe the completion of Creation is the same as the wording used to describe the completion of the Mishkan and, later, of the Beit HaMikdash. That means that building the Mishkan is analogous to creating the world. Indeed, that is how the Midrash describes it, going through the Creation of the world day by day and showing the parallels to the Mishkan:
את המשכן שהוא שקול כנגד העולם שקרוי אוהל כשם שמשכן קרוי אוהל כיצד כתיב בראשית ברא אלהים וגו’ וכתיב נוטה שמים כיריעה ובמשכן כתיב ועשית יריעות עזים לאוהל על המשכן וגו’ כתיב בשני יהי רקיע ויהי מבדיל וגו’ ובמשכן כתיב והבדילה הפרוכת לכם … בששי נברא אדם ובמשכן ואתה הקרב אליך את אהרן אחיך בשביעי כתיב ויכולו השמים וגו’ ובמשכן ותכל כל עבודת משכן וגו’ בבריאת עולם כתיב ויברך אלהים ובמשכן ויברך אותם
The Mishkan is analogous to the world, which is called a tent, just as the Mishkan is called a tent. How so? It says: “He spreads out the sky like a curtain,” and by the Mishkan it says, “Make goatskin curtains for the tent of the Mishkan.” On the second day it says: “Let the sky be a separation,” and by the Mishkan it says, “the curtain will be a separation,” etc … On the sixth day: mankind was created, and by the Mishkan it says, “Bring close to you Aharon, your brother.” On the seventh day: “The heavens were concluded,” and by the Mishkan, “All the work was concluded.” At Creation it says, “G-d blessed,” and by the Mishkan, “He blessed them.”
(Midrash Bamidbar Rabba 12:13)
If the Mishkan is the world in miniature and its building is Creation in miniature, then the Jewish People are, in a manner of speaking, G-d in miniature. G-d concludes the Creation of the World as its Maker and blesses it; Moshe concludes the building of the Mishkan as its maker and blesses the Jewish People; Shlomo concludes the building of the Beit HaMikdash as its maker and blesses the Jewish People.
How is such a thing possible? What is it that turns a man-made construction into a microcosm of the world and its makers into Makers, capable of bestowing blessing?
In the case of the Mishkan, we can answer that it was made according to G-d’s specific, explicit instructions: “and behold, it had been made as Hashem had commanded, so it was made.” Thus, the Jewish People were simply G-d’s construction crew; because they represent Him in carrying out His commands, they represent Him in their ability to bestow blessing.
But what about the Beit HaMikdash? As the Haftarah points out, the idea to build it did not come from G-d, but rather from David HaMelech. G-d approved it, but that is not the same as commanding it. Nor does it say in the Haftarah that it was made according to G-d’s command. The parallels to the Mishkan include the words “completion,” “construction,” “made,” and “blessed,” but is missing the phrase, “as Hashem commanded.”
How, then, was it possible for the Beit HaMikdash to reach the level of the Mishkan, emulating the Creation of the World, and for Shlomo to reach the level of Moshe, emulating the Maker with the ability to bless?
Shlomo provides the answer himself when he talks about what has been accomplished in the building of the Beit HaMikdash:
וָאֶבְנֶה הַבַּיִת לְשֵׁם ה’ אֱ-לֹהֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל . וָאָשִׂם שָׁם מָקוֹם לָאָרוֹן אֲשֶׁר שָׁם בְּרִית ה’ אֲשֶׁר כָּרַת עִם אֲבֹתֵינוּ בְּהוֹצִיאוֹ אֹתָם מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם.
I have built the House to the Name of Hashem, the G-d of Yisrael. And I made there a place for the Ark in which lies the Covenant of Hashem that He had made with our fathers when He took them out of Egypt. (Melachim I 8:20-21)
What makes this particular set of wood and stone into a House for Hashem is the Ark, in which lie the Tablets that represent the Covenant between G-d and the Jewish People at Sinai. It is when the Ark is placed inside the Beit HaMikdash that G-d’s Presence makes itself felt in the House. Only after that is Shlomo able to turn to the Jewish People and say, “I did it. I made this into a House for Hashem.” Only then is he able to bless them.
However, it was not the Ark that breathed life and meaning into wood and stone; it is also only wood and stone itself. Rather, it was the Covenant that it contained, that G-d had made with the Jewish People when He took us out of Egypt, the Covenant of “we will do and we will listen.” It was for the sake of our keeping this Covenant that G-d allowed Shlomo to build a House in His Name and to show His Presence within it. It is this Covenant that makes us G-d’s messengers in this world and His partners in Creation.
The building of the Mishkan, with its multitude of detailed commandments that were carried out “as He has commanded, so it was done,” was the first grand-scale exercise of our role as G-d’s partners. The faithful fulfilment of these commandments made it possible to create a microcosm of the world and made it possible for Moshe to bless the Jewish People in the way that G-d blessed His Creation. However, building the Mishkan was a one-time event; we do not make a Mishkan every day or every year.
In contrast, G-d’s Presence in the Beit HaMikdash was not due to the fulfilment of a set of specific commandments, but rather on the sum total of the commandments in the Covenant. Commandments such as “Honor your father and mother,” “Do not covet,” and the six hundred and eleven others, make us G-d’s representatives and His partners on a daily basis. By leading our entire lives in the form of “as He has commanded, so it was done,” we cause His Presence to dwell in this world, and become capable of bestowing blessing upon His Creation.
Copyright © Kira Sirote
In memory of my father, Peter Rozenberg, z”l
לעילוי נשמת אבי מורי פנחס בן נתן נטע ז”ל
Filed under Pekudei, Sefer Shemot
Parshat VaYechi describes the last will and testament of Yaakov to his sons. He blesses each of them, according to their specific talents and the future that he foresees for them.
וַיִּקְרְבוּ יְמֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל לָמוּת
The time of Yisrael’s death drew near… (Breishit 47:29)
The Haftarah of VaYechi describes the last will and testament of King David to his son, the newly crowned King Shlomo. David does not bless Shlomo; instead, he asks Shlomo to dispense justice to people whom he had been unable to punish in his lifetime.
וַיִּקְרְבוּ יְמֵי דָוִד לָמוּת
The time of David’s death drew near… (Melachim I 2:1)
It appears that Yaakov leaves his sons with closure while David leaves Shlomo with all his unfinished business. However, the comparison of the two bequests show us that what both fathers had in common at their death, that they each bequeathed to their children, was the gift of perspective.
The first, and most difficult realization that David shares with Shlomo is his realization that Yoav had been guilty of murder. Yoav was David’s kinsman and his closest companion throughout his life; he was also the general of the armies of Israel and David’s right hand man. Years ago, soon after Shaul’s death but before David was crowned as the king of Israel, Shaul’s former general Avner had come to make a treaty with David. Yoav asked to speak with him in private, and stabbed him in the gut. Yoav defended his action by saying that he was protecting David and the nascent kingdom, that he was sure that Avner would betray David. At the time, David believed him, and disciplined him only for making it look like David assassinates his enemies, but he did not judge it as a murder.
More recently, however, after the civil war started by Avshalom, in a gesture to reunite the nation, David had offered Avshalom’s general, Amasa, to serve as his own general, displacing Yoav. When Yoav heard this, he met up with Amasa, and under the guise of greeting him, stabbed him in the gut.
At that time, David was too vulnerable politically and militarily to lose Yoav. He was also still grieving for his son Avshalom, who had been killed in the civil war; the thought of losing Yoav must have been intolerable. He was not in a position to execute him, or even to judge him with a clear mind.
But now, “the time of David’s death drew near, ” and he sees clearly that Yoav must pay for his crimes. David is also worried about his son’s future as the King of Israel. He now believes that Yoav’s loyalty to the crown takes second place to his own agenda, and he cannot leave Shlomo with a wild card in his cabinet. His goal is to bequeath to Shlomo a strong uncontested monarchy, and that means that he has to tell him to beware of Yoav.
Yaakov, too, uses the time of saying goodbye to his sons to take care of unfinished business. Some of the blessings that he gives his children bring up issues that had long been buried:
רְאוּבֵן בְּכֹרִי אַתָּה כֹּחִי וְרֵאשִׁית אוֹנִי יֶתֶר שְׂאֵת וְיֶתֶר עָז: פַּחַז כַּמַּיִם אַל תּוֹתַר כִּי עָלִיתָ מִשְׁכְּבֵי אָבִיךָ אָז חִלַּלְתָּ יְצוּעִי עָלָה:
Reuven, you are my first-born, my strength, and the first of my might. Ahead in dignity, ahead in power. Unstable as water, you shall not have extra. For you went up on your father’s bed, thus you profaned, having gone up on my couch. (Breishit 49:3,4)
In his blessing to Reuven, Yaakov accuses him of having “gone up on his father’s bed”. This is a reference to a story that happened back in VaYishlach:
וַיְהִי בִּשְׁכֹּן יִשְׂרָאֵל בָּאָרֶץ הַהִוא וַיֵּלֶךְ רְאוּבֵן וַיִּשְׁכַּב אֶת בִּלְהָה פִּילֶגֶשׁ אָבִיו וַיִּשְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל פ
וַיִּהְיוּ בְנֵי יַעֲקֹב שְׁנֵים עָשָׂר:
When Yisrael was living in that land, Reuven went and slept with Bilha, his father’s concubine. Yisrael heard….. The sons of Yaakov were twelve.
(Breishit 35:22)
Soon after Rachel’s death, Reuven is recorded as sleeping with Rachel’s maid, his father’s concubine. The verse says that Yaakov heard, but does not record any reaction. It then points out that Yaakov had twelve sons. The implication is that Yaakov did nothing. He did not punish Reuven and he certainly did not exile him from the family. Perhaps, as the verse implies, he did not even say anything to Reuven.
But now, “the time of Yisrael’s death drew near…”, and Yaakov is ready to have this conversation. The Midrash explains why Yaakov had waited until right before his death.
מפני ארבעה דברים אין מוכיחין את האדם אלא סמוך למיתה, כדי שלא יהא מוכיחו וחוזר ומוכיחו ושלא יהא חברו רואהו ומתבייש ממנו, ושלא יהא בלבו עליו, ושלא יהיו המוכיחין מתוכחין, שהתוכחה מביאה לידי שלום, …וכן אתה מוצא ביעקב ויקרא יעקב אל בניו ראובן אומר לך מפני מה לא הוכחתיך כל השנים הללו כדי שלא תניחני ותדבק בעשו אחי
There are four reasons why one doesn’t rebuke a person until one is near death: so that he will not repeat his rebuke again and again; so that his friend will not be ashamed when he sees him; so that he will not carry a grudge against him; and so that the rebuke does not degenerate into an argument, as the rebuke is meant to bring peace… So we see with Yaakov, Yaakov called his sons, and said, Reuven, do you know why I did not rebuke you all these years? So that you wouldn’t leave me and go to my brother, Esav. (Midrash Yalkut Shimoni Yehoshua 34)
The reason that Yaakov did not react immediately when Reuven sinned was that he was afraid of alienating him. Reuven knew that he had done wrong, he did not need his father to explain that to him or to prevent him from doing it again. But if Yaakov were to have words with Reuven then, he would have been so ashamed that he could not look him in the eye. Eventually, Reuven might have found it easier to just leave the family. Perhaps he would even have started seeing himself as a sinner, and feel more comfortable with Esav, who had lower expectations, at least in this area of morality.
But now that Yaakov is about to die, he is not afraid of his son being ashamed to look him in the eye, or of leaving the family. Enough time has passed to give them all some perspective. Yaakov can now tell him that his actions did not go unnoticed, and that they have consequences, and that those consequences are in proportion to the ultimate effect of the deed. Reuven may have made a mistake, but it did not turn him into a sinner. He may not get the double portion of the first-born nor the leadership of the nation, but neither is he excluded from the Jewish People.
Yaakov’s words to Shimon and Levi are much harsher:
שִׁמְעוֹן וְלֵוִי אַחִים כְּלֵי חָמָס מְכֵרֹתֵיהֶם: בְּסֹדָם אַל תָּבֹא נַפְשִׁי בִּקְהָלָם אַל תֵּחַד כְּבֹדִי כִּי בְאַפָּם הָרְגוּ אִישׁ וּבִרְצֹנָם עִקְּרוּ שׁוֹר: אָרוּר אַפָּם כִּי עָז וְעֶבְרָתָם כִּי קָשָׁתָה אֲחַלְּקֵם בְּיַעֲקֹב וַאֲפִיצֵם בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל:
Shimon and Levi are brothers; instruments of crime are their swords. Let my soul not enter their conspiracies, let my honor not be included in their gang. For in their anger, they killed a man, by their will, they uprooted an ox. Cursed be their anger, for it is fierce; their fury, for it is cruel. I will disperse them in Yaakov, scatter them in Yisrael. (Breishit 49:5-7)
In this “blessing”, Yaakov denounces Shimon and Levi’s actions in Shechem. When they went to rescue Dina, who had been abducted and raped, they did not limit themselves to getting her out, not even to killing only those who had actually hurt her. They went and killed all the men in the entire town. At the time, Yaakov did protest, but he accepted their reason that they were protecting the honor of their sister and of the family.
Also in this “blessing”, Yaakov makes veiled references to their role in the sale of Yosef (“the ox” is the symbol of Yosef). Perhaps it is only now, after years in Egypt, that Yaakov puts together what may have happened to Yosef, and that it was not a coincidence that the first thing that Yosef did when he saw his brothers again was to separate Shimon from Levi. Now that the nature of their character is clear to Yaakov, he distances himself from their potential for fierce, destructive, anger. They must not be allowed to gang up, or they would destroy the entire nation.
The approach of death had given Yaakov, as well as David, the ability to see things with a sharper, clearer perspective. From this vantage point, they could see the long-term consequences of earlier events, and they could also see what the future would need. Ultimately, taking care of their unfinished business brought closure, as well as blessing, to the sons of Yaakov and to the son of David.
Copyright © Kira Sirote
In memory of my parents, Peter & Nella Rozenberg, z”l
לעילוי נשמת אבי מורי פנחס בן נתן נטע ואמי מורתי חנה בת זעליג ז”ל
Filed under Connections, Sefer Breishit, VaYechi
The Haftarah tells the story of the succession to King David’s throne. He is old and ill, and his son Adoniah acts as if he will succeed to the throne, despite King David’s preference for Shlomo. Adoniah takes on some of the overt signs of monarchy and makes a feast, inviting the entire court – with the exception of Shlomo and his supporters.
The Haftarah repeats this story several times. First, we hear it from the point of view of the narrator, then Natan tells it to Batsheva, then Batsheva to David, and finally Natan to David. The repetitions do not add any detail, nor do the different perspectives add any new insight. What, then, is the purpose of that repetition?
Our Parsha exhibits similar characteristics. Chayei Sarah is famous for the repetition of the story of Eliezer and Rivka at the well. First, we are told of his plan: the girl he is looking for will be the one that offers to give water both to him and to the camels. Then, we hear it as it actually happens: Rivka comes, gives water to Eliezer and to the camels, and turns out to be Avraham’s niece. He then goes to Rivka’s house, and we hear all about it yet again, in detail, as he retells it to Rivka’s family.
Finally, as if to tease us, when Eliezer brings Rivka to Yitzchak, this is how the entire event is described:
(סו) וַיְסַפֵּר הָעֶבֶד לְיִצְחָק אֵת כָּל הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה:
The servant told Yitzhak all the things that he had done. (Breishit 24:66)
Could this not have sufficed earlier, too?
Some suggest that the purpose of the first two repetitions is to learn about Eliezer’s faith, that he relied on G-d and He came through for him. This explains the first two parts, the story of Eliezer’s request for a sign, and the sign working out even better than he had hoped. But what could be the purpose of knowing exactly what he told Rivka’s family? Could it not have said, “The servant told them all the things that he had done”?
This prompts Chazal to make the following statement:
א”ר אחא יפה שיחתן של עבדי בתי אבות מתורתן של בנים פרשתו של אליעזר שנים וג’ דפים הוא אומרה ושונה ושרץ מגופי תורה ואין דמו מטמא כבשרו אלא מריבוי המקרא
R’ Acha said: The conversations of the servants from the Forefathers’ houses are more valuable than the Torah of their children. Eliezer’s story takes up 2-3 pages, and repeats itself, but we learn the Torah law that an insect’s blood does not cause impurity from a hint. (Breishit Rabba 60)
Important Halachot, practical laws, are not spelled out in the Torah; they need to be painstakingly derived from hints in the text. Our sources for important practical laws such as which text needs to be inside Tefillin, or whether or not we need to eat Matza for seven days or only one day, are derived from unusual phrasings or apparent contradictions. It is as writing the laws out explicitly were a waste of ink.
Yet for the story of Eliezer, there’s plenty of room. Pages and pages of it, most of the Parsha, when the entire thing could have been summed up in about three verses.
The Midrash draws the obvious conclusion: the Torah cares more about the conversations of the servants of our forefathers, than it does about making sure that important laws that you and I must keep are written clearly.
Why? What is the value of recording what Eliezer said to Betuel and Lavan? What is the lesson that could not have been conveyed in any other manner?
Nechama Leibowitz (Studies in Breishit, Chayei Sarah), in her analysis of the differences between the version of the narrator and the version of Eliezer, points out that Eliezer’s story has a particular slant that makes it obvious that he had an agenda. In his speech, he keeps repeating that everything came from G-d: his master’s fabulous wealth, the mission itself, the choice of the woman for his master. He points out that as a servant, he has no will of his own, and likewise, his master Avraham, as a servant of G-d, has no will of his own. Eliezer keeps drilling in the point that G-d is the cause of everything that has happened.
It is nice to hear of the faith that Eliezer had in G-d. Yet to suggest that Eliezer was simply sharing his view of the world is inadequate. He is now at a critical juncture of his mission. Once he found the girl, the very worst thing that could happen is that she will not come – or that she will not be allowed to come. The Torah implies that Rivka does not require much convincing. She recognizes very quickly that unlike her home, her life with Avraham’s son will be full of truth and purpose. But Eliezer also needs to convince her family. While Betuel is Rivka’s father, in the ancient world, the brothers had a say in their sisters’ welfare. It appears that the real decision of whether or not Rivka marries Yitzchak is in Lavan’s hands. We get to know Lavan later on, as the father of Rachel and Leah, and we see that he has absolutely no scruples when it comes to getting his own way. We also see that he is very possessive about his family , and prefers to have them firmly under his thumb. Eliezer’s task is not easy: how to get Lavan to let Rivka go?
Betuel and Lavan were pagan; as we say in the Haggada, “originally, our ancestors were idol worshippers”. The pagan relationship with their gods is a manipulative tug-of-war: if you come up with the proper offerings, your god will give you what you want, but if he’s made up his mind, it’s fate, and you can’t do anything to change it . Eliezer thus phrases his entire narrative in a context that they could relate to: Hashem has given Avraham great wealth (point: this god is powerful). Avraham serves Hashem (point: the wealth is conditional on the service). Hashem has miraculously singled out Rivka to be the bride (point: Hashem has made up His mind, and it is impossible to try to get out of it). Indeed, he presents his case so well that he elicits the perfect response:
(נ) וַיַּעַן לָבָן וּבְתוּאֵל וַיֹּאמְרוּ מֵה’ יָצָא הַדָּבָר ;לֹא נוּכַל דַּבֵּר אֵלֶיךָ רַע אוֹ טוֹב:
Lavan and Betuel answered: This came from Hashem; it doesn’t matter what we say.
They might not be particularly happy about it, but they bow to what they perceive to be fated, and let Rivka go. Eliezer achieves his goal and his mission is a success.
In contrast, when he reports on his mission, he does not need to put on a show for his master, and the Torah can comfortably sum it up as: “The servant told Yitzhak all the things that he had done.”
Now we are suitably impressed with Eliezer’s skill as a negotiator, with his understanding of the mindset of his target audience, and the difficulty of his mission.
Still the question remains: why is this in the Torah? Why is Eliezer’s skill as a negotiator so important that it rates pages and pages of text?
Perhaps what we need to look at is the alternative, the other way it might have gone, if the servant were not a member of Avraham’s household.
Several chapters earlier, in Parshat Breishit, when the Torah talks about why the world needs to be destroyed, one of the reasons it gives is that great men would “take themselves wives, whoever they chose” (Breishit 6:2). If it sounds romantic, that they married for love, that is not the intention. The Midrash says: “took wives: women who were already married to someone else” (Breishit Rabba 26:5). If a wealthy and powerful man would see someone he liked, he would take her. He would not ask permission – not from her family, not from her husband if she had one, certainly not from her. He would just take.
Avraham is wealthy. He is respected, even powerful. He needs a girl from a specific family for his son. If he sends his servant, and the servant finds a suitable girl, but she doesn’t want to go, what should happen? Would his servant make her family “an offer they can’t refuse”?
Avraham? Never.
Is that because after the Flood, taking women by force was no longer acceptable by the newly rebuilt society, and wasn’t an option for anyone? Hardly. When the strikingly beautiful Sarah appears in the court of Pharaoh, there are two alternatives: if she’s married, her husband can be killed so she can be taken. Or, if she is under the protection of a brother, the brother can be paid, and she can be taken. The brother doesn’t need to agree; it’s not up to him at all.
But for Avraham, about whom Hashem himself said, “For I know him; that he will command his children, and his household after him; they will keep the way of Hashem, to do righteousness and justice “, this is not how things are done. Eliezer, a member of Avraham’s household and his representative, who keeps the way of Hashem, would not dream of using force, or guile, or bribery, to take Rivka from Lavan.
How, then, does one get what one desperately needs, if one can’t take it?
That is where diplomacy comes in. It is possible to get people to cooperate. It is possible to convince them of your need, of the rightness of your way, to create a narrative that they can identify with, to cause them to do the right thing.
To show us how this is done – that this is done – the Torah is prepared to invest a little bit of ink and a few pages of parchment. It is not something that one can derive through logic, from a hint in the text. It needs to be explicit.
Using his wits and his faith, Eliezer convinced Lavan, the most selfish man in all of Tanach, to let his sister out of his clutches. If this is possible, then other things are possible, too. Justice and righteousness, “the way of Hashem”, can succeed in this world.
In the Haftarah, the story has the same structure as the Parsha. Like Eliezer, we hear Natan and Batsheva making a plan to ensure that Shlomo is crowned, and we see them carrying it out. Unlike Eliezer, they did not ask for Divine Intervention. Nor did they need to manipulate David into doing the right thing. Why then, is their plan recorded in the Tanach? What were the alternatives there, what did not happen that might have?
In the ancient world, a contested royal succession meant inevitable bloodshed. Whichever of the princes wound up taking the throne would immediately murder the remaining contenders and their supporters. In a lesser kingdom than David’s, one that was not founded on “justice and righteousness”, Natan and Batsheva would have arranged for the warriors that sided with Shlomo to attack Adoniah’s supporters.
But that is not what happened. Natan and Batsheva needed something very desperately – it was a matter of life and death – and yet they did not take it by force. They achieved their goals through polite, well-considered discourse, maintaining respect and dignity – their own, and that of the aging King David.
The lesson of Eliezer’s diplomatic success is the lesson of Natan and Batsheva’s diplomatic success. In a society based on justice and righteousness, there is power in words.
And that is a lesson worth repeating.
Twice.
Copyright © Kira Sirote
In memory of my parents, Peter & Nella Rozenberg, z”l
לעילוי נשמת אבי מורי פנחס בן נתן נטע ואמי מורתי חנה בת זעליג ז”ל
Filed under Chayei Sarah, Sefer Breishit
In the Haftarah of VaYeira Elisha wishes to show his appreciation to the Lady of Shunam for her outstanding hospitality. When he finds out that she is childless, he promises her a son.
וַיֹּאמֶר וּמֶה לַעֲשׂוֹת לָהּ? וַיֹּאמֶר גֵּיחֲזִי אֲבָל בֵּן אֵין לָהּ וְאִישָׁהּ זָקֵן:
וַיֹּאמֶר קְרָא לָהּ – וַיִּקְרָא לָהּ וַתַּעֲמֹד בַּפָּתַח:
וַיֹּאמֶר לַמּוֹעֵד הַזֶּה כָּעֵת חַיָּה אַתְּ חֹבֶקֶת בֵּן !
וַתֹּאמֶר אַל אֲדֹנִי אִישׁ הָאֱלֹהִים , אַל תְּכַזֵּב בְּשִׁפְחָתֶךָ:
וַתַּהַר הָאִשָּׁה וַתֵּלֶד בֵּן לַמּוֹעֵד הַזֶּה כָּעֵת חַיָּה אֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר אֵלֶיהָ אֱלִישָׁע וַיֹּאמֶר שׁוֹב אָשׁוּב אֵלֶיךָ כָּעֵת חַיָּה וְהִנֵּה בֵן לְשָׂרָה אִשְׁתֶּךָ . וְשָׂרָה שֹׁמַעַת פֶּתַח הָאֹהֶל וְהוּא אַחֲרָיו:
14) He said, “But what should be done for her?” Gehazi said, “But she doesn’t have a son, and her husband is old.”
15) He said, “Call her”. He called her, and she stood by the entrance.
16) He said, “At this season at the time of births, you will be hugging a son.” She said, “Don’t, my lord, Man of G-d! Don’t disillusion your servant.”
17) The woman became pregnant, and gave birth to a son, at this season at the time of births, about which Elisha had spoken to her. (Melachim II 4 14-17)
In the Parsha, the angels come to Avraham and Sarah and promise her a son:
וְאַבְרָהָם וְשָׂרָה זְקֵנִים בָּאִים בַּיָּמִים חָדַל לִהְיוֹת לְשָׂרָה אֹרַח כַּנָּשִׁים:
וַתִּצְחַק שָׂרָה בְּקִרְבָּהּ לֵאמֹר אַחֲרֵי בְלֹתִי הָיְתָה לִּי עֶדְנָה וַאדֹנִי זָקֵן:
וַיֹּאמֶר ה’ אֶל אַבְרָהָם לָמָּה זֶּה צָחֲקָה שָׂרָה לֵאמֹר הַאַף אֻמְנָם אֵלֵד וַאֲנִי זָקַנְתִּי:
הֲיִפָּלֵא מֵה’ דָּבָר לַמּוֹעֵד אָשׁוּב אֵלֶיךָ כָּעֵת חַיָּה וּלְשָׂרָה בֵן
…וַתַּהַר וַתֵּלֶד שָׂרָה לְאַבְרָהָם בֵּן לִזְקֻנָיו לַמּוֹעֵד אֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר אֹתוֹ אֱלֹהִים
10) He said, “I will come back to you at the time of births and your wife Sarah will have a son. Sarah was listening through the entrance of the tent, which was behind him.
11) Avraham and Sarah were old, getting on in years; the way of women had stopped for Sarah.
12) Sarah laughed inside, saying, “After all this time that I didn’t have joy, and my lord is old.”
13) Hashem said to Avraham, “Why did Sarah laugh saying, how could I give birth, when I have gotten old?”
14) Can anything be too difficult for Hashem? I will come back at this season at the time of births, and Sarah will have a son.
21:2) She became pregnant; Sarah gave birth to Avraham’s son, in his old age, at the season about which G-d had spoken. (Breishit 18 10-14, 21:2)
The two stories share so many phrases, it looks almost like the prophet writing the Haftarah copied them verbatim from the Parsha. The parallels are numerous: an act of hospitality resulting in the blessing of childbirth, the husband accused of being too old, the scepticism of the mother, and the happy event coming about as foretold. So that we don’t miss the thematic similarities, the Haftarah re-uses the memorable phrase, “at this season at the time of births”, which is not found anywhere else in all of Tanach. It is clear that the prophet is trying to draw our attention to the parallels between the two stories. Once we focus on the similarities, the information flows both ways: not only can we apply what we know of the Parsha to the Haftarah, but we can also apply what we are told in the Haftarah to the Parsha.
To begin with, the way that the Lady of Shunam phrases her reaction to the happy news can help us understand Sarah’s reaction as well. When told that she will have a child “this time next year” – not sometime in the future, but this very year – Sarah laughs, prompting us to ask, along with the angel, “Why did Sarah laugh?” Did she doubt G-d’s abilities? Did she lose faith in the promise given to Avraham decades earlier?
The Lady of Shunam is more explicit. Her reply is, “Do not disillusion me.” She voices her fear of being toyed with, of raising her hopes in vain. It is not that she doesn’t believe the prophet or doesn’t believe that G-d can accomplish what he promised. She simply cannot afford to be disappointed yet again.
If we assume that the two women share similar feelings, then Sarah’s laughter is not derisive, it is defensive. How many years has she waited to see the prophecy to Avraham fulfilled? The Torah gives us the numbers: Avraham was 75 when G-d told them they would have children; he is now 99. 24 years, 12 months a year, 288 months of disappointment, until finally, as the Torah tells us, there are no more months. Now some random stranger comes and says, “this time next year.” To hope again is unbearable. Sarah does not laugh at G-d or at G-d’s promise. Sarah laughs to protect herself.
But this time, the blessing is not for “some day,” this time, it comes with a timestamp: “in this season at the time of births.” This time, it does come to pass, right on time, just as promised. What has changed for Sarah? What was it that made it possible for this very concrete promise to be made? The same promise is made to the Lady of Shunam, and that too, comes to pass. What made it possible for Elisha to make her that promise?
The two identical promises of childbirth are preceded by similar acts of outstanding hospitality.
As the Parsha begins, Avraham sits and waits for passersby. For Avraham and Sarah, hospitality is not a response to circumstance, but rather something to be pursued proactively. It is an opportunity for kindness that they do not allow to pass them by.
Avraham says modestly, “Let me bring you some water, and a bit of bread while you rest up”. Then he, together with Sarah, make them a gourmet meal.
The Lady of Shunam is truly a child of Avraham and Sarah. It is obvious to her that when the prophet comes to town and needs a place to stay, she will not allow the opportunity to pass her by. And just like Avraham, when she takes her hospitality to the next level, she does not advertise her intention. She just does it, quietly and simply, making sure that all of the prophet’s needs are met, providing a bed, a table, and a lamp. The Haftarah describes how touched and impressed Elisha was at her thoughtfulness.
We see also in both stories that hospitality is a joint effort. Both the Parsha and the Torah go out of their way to point out how both spouses were involved in the preparations. Avraham is seen calling out to Sarah to bake bread, and the Lady of Shunam is heard telling her husband of her plans for their attic.
In both cases, the reward is a child “at this season, at the time of births.”
If this story only happened once, in the case of Avraham and Sarah, we might not draw the connection between hospitality and childbirth. Avraham and Sarah have many other achievements to their credit. Moreover, G-d had already promised them a child. There would be no reason to assume that it was their act of hospitality that tipped the scales and made it possible for this promise to come to pass now. But when it happens again in the Haftarah, that a promise to have a child is fulfilled in the context of hospitality, then we need to look at it as not just a correlation but a cause.
We know that G-d judges “middah k’negged middah” (measure for measure). The reward that He chooses is not independent of the action; rather, the deed and the reward are two sides of the same coin. If the reward for hospitality is a raising a child, then they are also two sides of the same coin.
Is not raising a child a form of hospitality itself? A helpless stranger, he is a guest first in his mother’s own body. All his needs anticipated and provided for, with the cooperation of both parents. until he ultimately goes his own way. Are not children passersby who stop over in our house for a limited time?
So when the Lady of Shunam prepared a room in her home for the prophet’s use, anticipating his needs and providing for them, Elisha felt that the best way to repay her is with a child whose needs she would have to anticipate and provide for.
When Sarah made food for three complete strangers on a moment’s notice, the best way to repay her was with a child for her to nurse.
Thus it is specifically an act of hospitality that can transform a promise of “some day” to one of “this time next year.”
Copyright © Kira Sirote
In memory of my father, Peter Rozenberg, z”l
לעילוי נשמת אבי מורי פנחס בן נתן נטע ז”ל
Filed under Sefer Breishit, VaYeira
