|
The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit
Midrash
Surf A Little Torah Yeshivat Har Etzion
PARASHAT MIKETZ
By Rav David Silverberg
The opening verses of Parashat Miketz tell of Pharaoh's dream of the lean
cows devouring the robust cows, and lean sheaves devouring the healthy
sheaves. The Torah (41:8) tells
that in the morning, "Va-tipa'em rucho" – Pharaoh's "spirit was agitated"
(from the JPS translation) – and he immediately summoned his advisors and
sorcerers to decipher the encoded message embodied in the dream.
Among the questions that arise from this incident is the issue of
Pharaoh's "agitation" and the desperately urgent – almost compulsive – need he
felt to arrive at the correct interpretation of the dream. This question becomes even more
troubling in light of the approximate parallel detected by Chazal (as
cited by Rashi, 41:8) between Pharaoh's response to his dream and that of
Nevukhadnetzar, as recorded in Sefer Daniel - "Va-titpa'em rucho"
(2:1). As we learn later in
that chapter, Nevukhadnetzar dreamt a frightening dream of an imposing statue
suddenly being struck and collapsing.
That Pharaoh would react to his seemingly innocuous dream with somewhat
similar fright requires some explanation.
This question perhaps prompted a comment by the Midrash (Bereishit
Rabba 89) to the parasha's opening verse. Commenting on the phrase, "U-Pharaoh
cholem" ("And Pharaoh dreamt"), the Midrash rhetorically asks, "And all
other people do not dream?" It then
answers, "Rather, a king's dream is that of the entire world." The Midrash is perhaps asking why
Pharaoh responded to his dream with such urgency, and it explains that he did so
because of his regal stature. A
dream shown to a king likely has relevance to the entire kingdom – and, in the
case of the ancient Egyptian empire, the entire inhabited world – and he
therefore felt an urgent need to decipher its encoded message.
Rav Shimon Schwab, in Ma'ayan Beit Ha-sho'eiva, suggests a
different reason why Pharaoh reacted as he did, pointing to the common theme
underlying the two components of the dream. Pharaoh dreamt of lean cows and sheaves
devouring robust cows and sheaves, clearly symbolic of the phenomenon of – to
borrow from this season's liturgy – giborim be-yad chalashim, rabim be-yad
me'atim – the weak triumphing over the mighty, and the few defeating the
many. The Egyptian king had all
along relied on his country's military might and economic prowess as the source
of his nation's security and the stability of his monarchy. Now he was suddenly shown the prospect
of even the mightiest and most secure suffering defeat at the hands of the
feeble. This image shook the
foundations of his sense of security, and he understandably responded with
horror and an urgent need to discover the true meaning underlying this
dream.
******
Towards the beginning of Parashat Miketz we read that Pharaoh summons his
advisors to interpret his perplexing dream, and the cupbearer mentions to
Pharaoh that during his term in prison, a Hebrew slave, Yosef, had correctly
interpreted his and the baker's dreams.
The cupbearer recalls, "And it was indeed as he [Yosef] interpreted for
us: I was reinstated in my post, and he [the baker] was hung" (41:13). One might wonder why the cupbearer found
it necessary to specify Yosef's interpretation of the dreams. Seemingly, his point here is to attest
to Yosef's talent in dream interpretation, and for this purpose it would have
sufficed to inform Pharaoh that his interpretations proved accurate. Why did the cupbearer specifically
mention that he was reinstated and the baker was executed?
Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda, suggests that the
cupbearer wanted to emphasize Yosef's "versatility" in dream interpretation,
that he was capable of deciphering both dreams that foretold doom and those that
heralded good tidings. His power
lay in his sheer objectivity, which enabled him to decipher all dreams
accurately, without approaching them with preconceived notions regarding their
outcome. The fact that Yosef
predicted both the cupbearer's reinstatement and the baker's execution
demonstrated that his talents were genuine and he would not intentionally divert
a dream in any preconceived direction.
Indeed, Yosef's interpretation of Pharaoh's dream entailed both blessing
and calamity. He predicted both
seven years of plenty and the seven years of famine, just as he had foreseen
both the cupbearer's freedom and the baker's death.
We might extend this theory just a bit further to draw a general lesson
from the cupbearer's description of Yosef's talents. In all areas of life, it would do us
well to "interpret" events and issues with pure objectivity and reach
conclusions based on actual facts, rather than on our preconceived notions. All too often, people tend to mold the
hard data to suit their intuitive sense and a priori conclusions, rather
than molding their intuitive sense in accordance with the hard data. Yosef's interpretations of dreams
perhaps teaches that in interpreting events around us, we should be
theoretically prepared to reach conclusions in either direction, depending on
the objective information before us.
******
In Parashat Miketz the Torah (41:50) tells of the birth of Yosef's two
children, Efrayim and Menashe, emphasizing that they were born "before the year
of famine set in." The Gemara
(Ta'anit 11a) deduces from this verse that marital relations are forbidden
during periods of drought and famine.
The Torah emphasizes that Yosef begot children specifically before the
onset of famine to indicate that once the famine set in he abstained from
marital relations and thus begot no children during those years. Rashi cites this Gemara in his
commentary to this verse.
Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi, in his work on Rashi's commentary, raises a
question from a Midrash cited by Rashi earlier in Sefer Bereishit, in Parashat
Toledot (26:8). The Torah tells
that famine struck the land of Canaan, forcing Yitzchak and Rivka to
settle in the Philistine region of Gerar, where they posed as brother and
sister, fearing that otherwise Yitzchak might be killed should one of the local
men set his eyes upon Rivka. But
the Philistine king Avimelekh looked through the window and saw Yitzchak "being
frivolous" with Rivka, which Chazal interpret as a euphemistic reference
to marital relations. Clearly,
then, Yitzchak and Rivka maintained marital life despite the famine
conditions. Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi
suggests that since the Philistine region did not suffer the harsh conditions
that struck the inland areas of Canaan, this
prohibition did not apply. Marital
relations are forbidden only in the affected areas, and not in surrounding
regions.
Tosefot there in Masekhet Ta'anit raise a different question, regarding a
famous Midrashic statement that Yokheved, Levi's daughter who ultimately became
the mother of Moshe Rabbenu, was born as Yaakov and his family crossed the
border from Canaan into Egypt. Yaakov's family resettled in
Egypt due to the unbearably
harsh famine conditions in Canaan, and thus
Yokeheved was conceived during a period of drought. How could Levi have maintained normal
marital life during a time of famine?
Tosefot therefore conclude that this prohibition applies only on the
level of midat chasidut – as an added measure of piety, rather than
according to the strict halakha.
Strictly speaking, one may engage in marital relations during famine, but
it is nevertheless deemed inappropriate.
Several Acharonim rejected Tosefot's theory. The Gevurot Ari (by the author of
the Sha'agat Aryeh) notes that the Gemara formulated the halakha
as, "It is forbidden for a person to engage in marital relations during years of
hunger." This very clearly suggests
that we deal with an outright prohibition, rather than a measure of midat
chasidut. The Or
Ha-chayim (here in Parashat Miketz) points out that Tosefot's answer
presumes that Yosef felt obliged to follow this midat chasidut, whereas
his brother Levi – whom Moshe describes in Parashat Vezot Haberakha (Devarim
33:8) as "ish chasidekha," the "pious man" of God – did not. The Or Ha-chayim found it
inconceivable that Yosef would strive for this standard whereas Levi would
not.
The Gevurot Ari and Or Ha-chayim therefore suggest (though
with slightly different formulations) a different answer as to how Levi was
permitted to engage in relations during the period of famine. They approach this issue by way of a
different question that troubled many writers. The Gemara there establishes that
chasukhei banim – people who have yet to beget children – are allowed to
maintain marital relationships during periods of famine. Now Yosef, as far as we know, had no
daughters, and the mitzva of peru u-revu
(procreation) requires that one beget at least one son and one daughter. Why, then, was it forbidden for Yosef to
engage in relations during the famine years? The Gevurot Ari and Or
Ha-chayim answer by advancing a novel reading of this Gemara. They claim that in truth, Yosef was not
required to abstain from relations during the famine, for the very reason
mentioned. The Gemara deduced this
halakha not from Yosef's conduct, but rather from the otherwise
superfluous phrase in the verse, "And two sons were born to Yosef before the
year of famine set in." The
Torah emphasizes that the sons were born specifically before the drought to
allude to the fact that under normal circumstances, it would have been forbidden
for Yosef to engage in relations during famine. In his specific case, however, as he had
not begotten any daughters, it was permissible.
According to their reading, then, Yosef was indeed permitted to engage in
marital relations during the years of famine, due to the obligation of
peru u-revu which
requires begetting at least a son and a daughter. Incidentally, the Maharal, in his Gur
Aryeh, notes that this would also explain the case of Yitzchak, mentioned
earlier. Since Yitzchak had no
daughters, he was permitted to engage in marital relations during the period of
famine.
We should note that the Beit Yosef (O.C. 574) read this Gemara as
an asmakhta – a subtle allusion in the Biblical text for a law
established later, rather than the actual source of the halakha. He contends that in any event this
prohibition did not apply at all before Matan Torah, and thus neither
Yosef nor Levi was bound by this law.
His view, of course, obviates the need for this entire discussion.
It should also be noted that Tosefot's question presumes a literal
reading of the Midrash regarding Yokeheved's birth. As we've discussed last year (in our
S.A.L.T. series to Parashat Vayigash), the literal reading of this Midrash
results in a severe chronological problem.
Benei Yisrael remained in Egypt for two hundred and ten years,
and Moshe was eighty years old at the time of the Exodus. If Yokheved – Moshe's mother – was born
just as Benei Yisrael arrived in Egypt, then she had to have given
birth to him at the age of one hundred and thirty. It is very difficult to imagine that the
Torah would not have made some kind of mention of this astounding miracle,
especially in light of the "press coverage" the Torah gives to Sara's conception
and delivery of Yitzchak at the age of ninety. This might lead us to consider
non-literal readings of the Midrash, which would easily resolve Tosefot's
question as to how Levi continued marital life during the famine. It is likely that Yokheved was actually
born much later, in Egypt, after the famine's
conclusion.
******
Yesterday we discussed the halakha introduced in Masekhet Ta'anit
(11a) – as cited by Rashi, in his commentary to Parashat Miketz (41:50) –
forbidding marital relations during a period of famine. The Gemara arrives at this conclusion
based on a verse in Parashat Miketz (ibid.) which emphasizes that Yosef's two
sons were born specifically before the onset of the famine that struck
Egypt. This emphasis, the Gemara explains,
indicates that Yosef would not have begotten children during the years of
famine, since marital relations are forbidden during such periods. As we mentioned yesterday, the Gemara
makes an exception for people who have yet to beget children; they are indeed
allowed to continue normal marital life even during periods of drought. This provision, as we discussed, gave
rise to some discussion regarding the fact that Yosef had yet to fulfill the
mitzva of peru u-revu
(procreation), which requires begetting both a son and a daughter. He had begotten only two sons, but no
daughters. Seemingly, then, Yosef
should have been allowed to continue normal marital life even after the onset of
the years of famine, contrary to the Gemara's inference from this verse.
Today we will look at some other answers that have been suggested for
this question.
The Da'at Zekeinim Mi-Ba'alei Ha-Tosefot answers based on the
debate in Masekhet Yevamot (61b) as to how many children one must beget to
fulfill the mitzva of procreation.
Yosef possibly followed the minority view that the birth of two sons
suffices for the fulfillment of this obligation, and he was therefore required
to separate from his wife during the famine years. Interestingly, the Da'at Zekeinim
suggests that Levi, who, as we discussed later, is said to have had a daughter
born to him in the second year of famine, followed the accepted view, requiring
both a son and a daughter, and was therefore allowed to engage in relations
during the famine.
The Maharal of Prague, in his Gur Aryeh, suggests that this
provision, permitting people without children to engage in marital relations
during periods of famine, did not apply in Yosef's case. Yosef had advanced knowledge of the
famine's duration, having predicted Pharoah's dream as an indication of seven
years of hunger. The Maharal
contends that since Yosef knew that the famine would end in a matter of a few
years, he was not permitted to maintain marital relations, despite the fact that
he had yet to father a daughter.
The Levush Ha-ora objects to the Maharal's theory, arguing, "Even
if the famine's duration is fixed, is the duration of a person's life therefore
fixed, that he will live until the end of the famine? Maybe he will die before the famine
ends, and will thus die without fulfilling peru u-revu!" The Maharal suggests a second answer, as
well, namely, that a childless person begetting children during years of famine
– though technically permissible – would leave a sort of insulting stamp on the
children. Once again, the Levush
Ha-ora dismisses this notion, arguing that there should be no such insult if
relations during this period are permitted for people who have yet to fulfill
their obligation of peru u-revu.
Others, including the Levush Ha-ora, suggest that Yosef indeed may
have had a daughter. The Beit
Yosef (O.C. 774) raised and immediately rejected this possibility, arguing
that had Yosef had a daughter, she should have been included in the list of the
seventy members of Yaakov's family in Parashat Vayigash (chapter 46). Others, however, uphold this
theory. The Levush Ha-ora
speculates that Yosef may have had a daughter before the onset of the famine,
but she then died before Yaakov's descent to Egypt, and was therefore not listed in the record
of Yaakov's family members who left Canaan and came to Egypt. The Ben Ish Chai, in his Ben
Yehoyada (Masekhet Ta'anit), suggests that just as the Midrash claims that
all Yaakov's sons were born with twin sisters (see Rashi, 37:35), and yet they
are omitted from the record in Parashat Vayigash, so may have Yosef had a
daughter whom the Torah never mentions.
Interestingly enough, the Shevut Yaakov (3:30) cites possible
proof for this theory – that Yosef had a daughter – from a Midrash cited in
Rashi's commentary to Parashat Vayigash (44:19). According to the Midrash, Yehuda
confronted the Egyptian viceroy (whom he had yet to discover was Yosef) and
asked why he interrogated the brothers upon their arrival in Egypt
to purchase grain: "Why did you have to ask us all this – were we asking for
your daughter?!" This question
might suggest that Yosef indeed had a daughter.
The Levush Ha-ora suggested a different answer, as well, claiming
that Yosef was aware through prophetic insight that he would not father any
children after the birth of his two sons.
Therefore, even though he had yet to father a daughter, it was forbidden
for him to engage in relations during the years of famine.
Finally, the Taz (O.C. 574:2) claimed that the Gemara did not suspend the
prohibition against relations during famine for anyone who has yet to fulfill
the mitzva of peru u-revu. The Gemara permitted relations only for
chasukhei banim – people who are "childless." Quite possibly, then, once a person has
even a single child he is bound by this prohibition. Yosef was therefore forbidden from
engaging in relations despite the fact that he had no daughters.
******
A famous passage in the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 2) describes that
during the period of Greek persecution in Eretz Yisrael, the Greek empire
ordered the Jews of the time to "inscribe on the horns of the ox: We have no
share in the God of Israel." While
it is clear that the Midrash refers to the Greeks' efforts to put an end to
Jewish practice through legislation, this unusual expression – "Inscribe on the
horns of the ox" – requires some explanation; indeed, many suggestions have been
offered by various writers throughout the centuries.
Rav Yehuda Gershuni, in Sha'arei Tzedek, explained that oxen's
horns are often used as a symbolic image of power and sovereignty. Moshe, in his blessing to the tribes of
Yosef before death, foresees, "karnei re'eim karnav" – these tribes'
"horns" would resemble the horns of a wild ox (Devarim 33:17). This clearly refers to military might
and dominion. Similarly, towards
the end of Sefer Melakhim I (22:11), we read that the false prophet Tzidkiya Ben
Kena'ana took an iron image of horns and broke it in the presence of the kings
of Yehuda and Israel (Yehoshafat and Achav) to symbolize Israel's victory over
Aram that he (falsely and wrongly) predicted. With this mind, Rav Gershuni suggested,
we can perhaps explain the Midrash's intent in its description of the Greeks'
campaign against the Jews. The
Greek empire, he claims, offered the Jews sovereignty and political
freedom. They were prepared to
allow the Jews to retain their "oxen's horns," their power and self-rule,
provided that they relinquish their spiritual heritage. In this vein, Rav Gershuni distinguishes
between the Greek empire and other nations who persecuted the Jewish
people. The Babylonians, for
example, in direct contrast to the Greeks, were interested only in conquering
Benei Yisrael. Once the Jews
were exiled to Babylonia, they were given full
religious freedom and civil rights; the Babylonians sought to control the Jews,
but not to strip them of their heritage.
And the Persians, of course, during the time of Haman, sought to destroy
the Jewish people altogether. The
Greeks, however, were ready to allow the Jews to retain their sovereignty, but
refused to allow them to retain their religious beliefs and practices.
The Chanukah story thus marks the Jews' refusal to resign themselves to
simply a normal form of national existence. They would not accept any arrangement
that entailed forsaking the Torah, regardless of the benefits and privileges it
guaranteed. The festival of
Chanukah, in this sense, celebrates – and reminds us of – the centrality of
Torah and mitzvot within our national identity, as we recall the heroism
and determination of those who refused to accept the benefits of the "oxen's
horns" at the expense of "the God of Israel."
******
In the Al
Ha-nissim paragraph inserted in our shemona esrei prayer during
Chanukah, we describe the events of Chanukah as having occurred "bi-y'mei
Matityahu ben Yochanan kohen gadol Chashmonai u-vanav" ("in the time of
Matityahu, son of Yochahan, the high priest, Chashmonai, and his sons"). This text follows the version in the
siddur of Rabbenu Sa'adya Gaon, and this is indeed the position of
several Rishonim, including the Orchot Chayim (cited by Beit
Yosef, O.C. 682) and Avudraham.
In Masekhet
Sofrim (20:1), however, as well as in the siddur of Rav Amram Gaon, an
extra letter vav appears in the text, such that it reads, "bi-y'mei
Matityahu ben Yochanan kohen gadol U-Chashmonai u-vanav" ("AND Chashmonai
and his sons"). According to this
verse, the term Chashmonai ("Hasmonean") refers not to Matityahu or his
father, Yochanan, but rather to some other figure, presumably a different leader
of the Jews' revolt against Greek rule.
This is also the Gemara's implication in Masekhet Megila (11a), which
tells that during the time of the Greeks God delivered the Jews through the
leadership of "Shimon Ha-tzadik, and Chashmonai and his sons, and Matityahu
Kohen Gadol." The term
Chashmonai is thus the name of not the priestly family of Matityahu, but
rather some other prominent leader during this time.
The
Orchot Chayim, in championing the prevalent text, writes that
Chashmonai indeed refers to Yochahan, the father of Matityahu, and thus
the vav should be omitted.
As for the origin of the name Chashmonai, the Orchot Chayim
claims that Josephus identified Yochanan by this name. The Orchot Chayim then cites a
theory that Yochanan was given this title based on a verse in Sefer Tehillim
(68:32), "Ye'etayu chashmanim," where the word chashmanim denotes
strength and prominence. (If,
indeed, the title Chashmonaim originates from the Hebrew word
chashmanim, then the word chashmanim used in the Ma'oz Tzur
poem is not a corruption of the word Chashmona'im implemented for
purposes of rhyme, but rather the authentic term.) Another possibility appears in the
siddur Avodat Yisrael, which suggested that the Chashmonai
family came from the town Chashmon mentioned in the Book of Yehoshua.
The
Orchot Chayim does not cite a Talmudic source for his position, that
Chashmonai refers to Yochanan, and not to some other figure in the
Chanukah story. As mentioned, both
Masekhet Sofrim and the Gemara in Masekhet Megila appear to indicate
otherwise. The Orchot Chayim
most likely followed a variant text of the Gemara in Megila, which appears in
the Semag, in Hilkhot Chanukah, and reads, "I assigned to them Shimon
Ha-tzadik and Matitya ben Yochanan the high priest, Chashmonai, and his
sons." The prevalent text of Al
Ha-nissim seems to have been based on this citation of the Gemara in the
Semag, and this was very likely the Orchot Chayim's source.
(Taken from
Rav Menachem Adler's work Chashmonai U-vanav, which elaborates on this
topic in much greater detail)
******
Towards the end of the Al Ha-nisim paragraph inserted in our
prayer service and birkat ha-mazon during Chanukah, we declare,
"u-le-amekha Yisrael asita teshu'a gedola u-furkan ke-ha-yom ha-zeh" –
"and for Your nation Israel You brought great salvation and redemption, as on
this day." How might we explain the
final words of this passage – ke-ha-yom ha-zeh ("as on this day")?
The Chatam Sofer suggested an explanation in light of an
interpretation offered in the Gemara to a similar phrase in the Torah. In Parashat Nitzavim, Moshe warns
Benei Yisrael of the exile they would suffer if they breach their
covenant with God, foreseeing that God will drive them into a different land
"ka-yom ha-zeh." Rabbi
Eliezer, as cited in Masekhet Sanhedrin (110b), understands this verse as a
reference to the ten lost tribes of Israel. He explains, "[God will drive the tribes
into exile] like this day: just as a day grows dark and then shines [once
again], so, too, the ten tribes, for whom it is dark – it will be bright for
them in the future." In other
words, the term ka-yom ha-zeh denotes a temporary situation, just as the
darkening of the sky in the evening hours heralds but a temporary period of
darkness, that ultimately gives way to radiant sunshine the following
morning.
The Chatam Sofer applied this interpretation of ka-yom
ha-zeh in converse fashion to Al Ha-nisim. The Jews at the time of the Chanukah
story understood that their victory was but ke-ha-yom ha-zeh – a
temporary salvation. No complete
redemption is possible without the restoration of the Davidic royal
dynasty. In this vein the Chatam
Sofer explains the subsequent passage in Al Ha-nisim, which tells of
the Chashmonaim's efforts in cleansing the Temple, which is often understood as reflective
of a broader campaign of religious renewal. Realizing that their recent victory was
only temporary, the leaders of the time did not sit on their laurels and allow
the redemptive process to take its course.
Rather, they focused their energies on solidifying the religious renewal
that had begun to take shape to ensure its lasting impact upon the Jewish
people. This might also explain the
final sentence in Al Ha-nisim, which tells of the institution of the
Chanukah festival. The realization
of the temporary nature of the victory over the Greeks may have contributed to
the decision to establish a permanent holiday. Knowing that their newly gained freedom
would not necessarily endure, the Chashmonaim wanted subsequent generations to
remember the dramatic events of that period, to provide them with hope and
encouragement when darker times set in.
|