Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion

The accepted procedure for lighting Chanukah candles is to begin with one candle on the first night and then add one candle each of the subsequent seven nights. This practice follows the view of Bet Hillel, as recorded in the Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat, as opposed to the position of Bet Shamai, who held that one lights eight candles the first night and proceeds in descending order each subsequent night. The Gemara there cites two possible bases for this dispute. First, the Gemara suggests that Bet Hillel prefers signifying how many days have passed, whereas Bet Shammai wishes to reflect the number of days left to the festival. What this argument itself revolves around is not entirely clear. Rav Shlomo Yosef Zevin, in his "Le-or Ha-halakha" develops a general theory regarding the disputes between Bet Hillel and Bet Shammai, arguing that Bet Hillel generally focuses on practical results while Bet Shammai emphasizes latent potential. On this basis Rav Zevin explains scores of arguments between these two schools, including this debate. The oil in the menorah lost "burning power," if you will, each day; as such, its potential gradually declined day by day. Therefore, Bet Shammai, the potential-oriented school of thought, lights eight candles on the first night to commemorate the original, eight-day potential of the oil, and then lights one less each subsequent night as the burning power of the oil diminished. Bet Hillel, however, focuses on the end result. Since the manifestation of the miracle increased in magnitude with each passing, we add one candle every day to express the growing impact of this great wonder.

The Gemara then provides another line of reasoning to explain this dispute. It suggests that Bet Shammai models the lighting of Chanukah candles after the "parei ha-chag," the bulls offered as sacrifices on Sukkot. Just as on the first day of Sukkot thirteen bulls are offered, with twelve on the second, eleven on the third, and so on, so do we light Chanukah candles in descending order. Bet Hillel, however, applies the principle of "ma'alin ba-kodesh ve-ein moridin" - we always perform matters of kedusha (sanctity) in a manner reflecting ascent, rather than descent.

Among the many questions arising from this discussion, we will select one simple question asked by the Bet Ha-levi: what difference does it make? Of what practical value is this debate regarding the underlying rationale of these views?

The Bet Ha-levi explains that this discussion will come into play in the unfortunate situation of one who, for whatever reason, does not have enough candles required for that night. Take, for example, a person who has access to only three candles on the fourth night of Chanukah. Of course, the halakha, which follows Bet Hillel's view, requires the lighting of four candles. Should this individual light all three candles in his possession, or resort to the basic requirement of Chanukah and light only a single candle? (Recall that in essence only one candle is required every night; the practice of adding more candles - be it the method of Bet Hillel or that of Bet Shammai - is observed as a higher level of performance.) This issue will depend on why Bet Hillel requires four candles that night. If he stated his position out of the desire to signify the number of days that have passed, then this goal is simply unattainable in this situation. Therefore, the individual will accomplish nothing by lighting the second and third candles on the fourth night. If, however, Bet Hillel issued his ruling to comply with the principle of "ma'alin ba-kodesh ve-ein moridin," then the person in question should light all three candles. Although he cannot "ascend" by lighting one more candle than he lit the previous night, this principle also dictates that one should not "descend" by lighting fewer candles than he lit the previous night. Therefore, assuming he lit three candles the previous night, as required, on this fourth night he should light all three candles, so as to avoid reflecting "descent."

*****

After revealing his identity to his brothers, Yosef presents them with a gift of clothing (45:22). Surprisingly, he affords preferential treatment to his only full brother, Binyamin, by giving him five changes of clothing. The Gemara in Masekhet Megila (16b) asks the obvious question: hasn't Yosef learned anything from his experiences with his brothers? Does he still fail to realize the danger of jealousy caused by preferential treatment? He had suffered so bitterly as a result of his father's having distinguished between him and the other brothers; how can he now take the same risk by giving Binyamin an extra large gift?

The Gemara answers that Yosef granted his brother this extra gift of clothing not as a demonstration of preferential treatment, but rather as an allusion to Binyamin's descendant, Mordekhai. After Achashverosh discovers that Haman's plot applied to his queen and has him hanged, Mordekhai is granted royal status and given five garments of royal garb (Ester 8:15). Yosef wished to foretell this event to Binyamin through the five garments given to him.

While this Midrash may technically answer the question, as Yosef did not, in fact, seek to distinguish Binyamin but rather allude to his progeny, it raises a different, obvious question: what connection is there between the events of Parashat Vayigash and Mordekhai? Why would Yosef suddenly feel the need to make this subtle reference to Mordekhai's rise to power in the Persian Empire?

In truth, many parallels exists between the story of Yosef in Egypt and Megilat Ester. (See the introduction of the Da'at Mikra commentary on Megilat Ester for a complete rundown of these parallels.) In content, both stories tell of a sudden promotion of a heretofore condemned Jew to the position of viceroy in a foreign government, and in both a Jew in a position of influence and authority saves his/her brethren from calamity (famine/destruction). As far as language is concerned, there are too many linguistic parallels to list. To mention just a few, in both contexts we find the appointment of "pekidim" (government officials), in Egypt to oversee the storage of grain (41:34), and in Persia to find suitable candidates for queen (Ester 2:3). Both sets of "pekidim" are charged with the responsibility of "ve-yikbetzu," assembling, grain and maidens (Bereishit 41:35; Ester 2:3). Yosef's suggestion of a food storage campaign "found favor in Pharaoh's eyes" (41:37), just as the idea that Achashverosh conduct a survey of young women to select a wife "found favor in the king's eyes" (Ester 2:4). In her attempt to seduce Yosef, Potifar's wife speaks with him "yom yom" (day in, and day out), and the royal courtiers question Mordekhai "yom va-yom" as to his refusal to bow before Haman (Ester 3:4). When Yaakov finally allows Binyamin to go to Egypt with his brothers, he laments, "As for me - if I am to be bereaved, I shall be bereaved" (43:14), reminiscent of Ester's mournful cry, "As for me - if I am to perish, I shall perish" (Ester 4:16).

The significance of this association perhaps relates to the thinly veiled Hand of God that operates from behind the curtain of history and human activity. Both stories proceed without any explicit reference to divine intervention (though on several occasions Yosef attributes events to God). Yosef here perhaps alludes to the trust one must always have in God's power of salvation. Just moments earlier Binyamin faced a lifetime term of slavery in Egypt far away from home; in an instant, it was discovered that the threat had never existed in the first place - Yosef never had any intention of subjugating his brother. Similarly, the cries and anguish of the Jews of Persia suddenly transformed into celebration. Indeed, immediately following the description of Mordekhai's royal garments we read, "And the city of Shushan rang with joyous c. The Jews enjoyed light and gladness, happiness and honor." With God's limitless power at our side, crisis and agony can suddenly turn to festivity and rejoicing.

After lighting our Chanukah candles we sing the famous song of "Ma'oz Tzur." In this hymn we take a quick look at the some of the major crises our nation has faced, recalling God's having miraculously delivered us each time. We end with the prayer, "Reveal Your sacred arm, and bring the final redemption near." By reflecting on God's miracles of the past, we reinforce our faith in His strength and ability to deliver us from our current troubles, as well.

*****

Yaakov hears that Yosef is still alive and exclaims, "I will go and see him before I die!" (45:28). The next verse tells that indeed, Yaakov took his family and all his belongings and embarked on his trip. Instead of proceeding directly to Egypt, however, "he came to Be'er Sheva, where he offered sacrifices to the God of his father Yitzchak." Why did he stop in Be'er Sheva to bring sacrifices rather than traveling straight to Egypt?

One answer suggested by many commentators arises from the prophecy Yaakov receives while in Be'er Sheva: "God called to Yisrael in a vision by night… And he said, I am God… Fear not going down to Egypt… " (46:2-3). Apparently, Yaakov stopped over in Be'er Sheva because he was afraid to go to Egypt. Why? A wide variety of possibilities appear in the commentaries; the Abarbanel himself suggests six reasons why Yaakov may have feared. The Ramban suggests that Yaakov knew that his descent to Egypt marked the beginning of the exile, and he needed divine encouragement that his offspring will survive the grueling conditions of bondage. In a slightly different vein, the Midrash Hagadol and Rabbenu Yosef Bekhor Shor explain that Yaakov sought to receive God's permission before leaving Eretz Yisrael. After all, back in Parashat Toledot, God forbade his father Yitzchak from leaving Canaan to escape famine (26:2-3).

An entirely different approach is taken by the Netziv, in his "He'amek Davar." According to the Netziv, Yaakov had no intention of moving to Egypt at this point in time. He planned to go and see Yosef "before I die," at some point before his death, though not now. Instead, his renewed vitalization - "the spirit of their father Yaakov was revived" (45:27) - prompted his proactive response to the grave famine from which his family suffered. Rather than purchasing grain from Egypt, he decided instead to move to Be'er Sheva, just as his father had done when famine struck. There Yitzchak had enjoyed agricultural success and economic prosperity despite the harsh conditions (26:12). Yaakov followed this example and relocated in Be'er Sheva. He first offers sacrifices to "the God of his father, Yitzchak" to pray for the same success his father had enjoyed. Only when God appeared to him and urged him to continue onward to Egypt did Yaakov take his family to see Yosef.

Truth be told, this approach of the Netziv appears to be the simple meaning of a Midrash with which we are very familiar. We recite in the Haggadah that Yaakov and his family went to Egypt "annus, al pi ha-dibbur" - against their will, by divine decree. On the surface, it seems that Yaakov settled in Egypt only to obey God's command; otherwise, he would have stayed in Canaan.

Other commentators, who adopt the more conventional reading that Yaakov willingly moved to Egypt, presumably understood this Midrash differently. God orchestrated events in such a way that Yaakov and his family were practically grabbed from Canaan - by force of circumstance - and forcibly transferred to Egypt. Though they were not directly commanded to leave Canaan, the sequence of events that unfolded practically forced them into relocating in Egypt, such that God's decree of exile could be fulfilled.

*****

Parashat Vayigash introduces us to the Egyptian city of Raamses: "Yosef settled his father and his brothers, giving them holdings in the choicest part of the land of Egypt, in the region of Raamses, as Pharaoh had commanded" (47:12). As some commentators have noted, however, a verse towards the beginning of Sefer Shemot implies that this area was built only later, after Benei Yisrael's bondage began: "They set taskmasters over them to oppress them with forced labor, and they built garrison cities for Pharaoh - Pitom and Raamses" (Shemot 1:11). If the Hebrew slaves built Raamses, apparently it did not previously exist; how, then, did Yaakov and his family settle there?

For this reason, presumably, Rashi, in his commentary on that verse in Shemot, claims that "they built" actually means "they fortified." The Egyptian taskmasters had the slaves transform the two residential areas of Pitom and Raamses into well-fortified cities suitable for the storage of the country's treasuries.

The Ibn Ezra, however, explains differently. He notes a subtle difference in pronunciation between the two references to this city. In Parashat Vayigash, the silent "sheva" vowel appears underneath the letter "ayin" in the word, rendering a pronunciation of "Ramses." In Parashat Shemot, by contrast, a "chataf patach" appears underneath the "ayin," yielding a pronunciation of "Ra'amses." Based on this distinction, the Ibn Ezra claims that these are two different cities, one which Yaakov's family inhabited upon their arrival in Egypt, and another that Benei Yisrael built when they were subjected to slavery.

Rav Yitzchak Rosenblat, in his work, "Chedvat Yotzer," points out that this dispute between Rashi and Ibn Ezra will have practical ramifications in a case where the ba'al korei (the one reading the Torah in the synagogue) mispronounces the word in either of these two verses. The general principle is that when the ba'al korei misreads a word, he must repeat it only if his misreading alters the meaning of the text. According to Rashi, "Ramses" (in Parashat Vayigash) and "Ra'amses" (in Parashat Shemot) refer to the same city; as such, misreading "Ramses" as "Ra'amses" - or vice-versa - is inconsequential (though should optimally be avoided). According to the Ibn Ezra, however, confusing the two words significantly alters the meaning of the text, as we deal here with two different geographic locations; therefore, a ba'al korei who reads one instead of the other should have to reread the word correctly.

*****

Amidst its description of Yaakov's resettlement in Egypt, Parashat Vayigash digresses to list the names of Yaakov's children and grandchildren who joined him. This list includes the lone son of Dan (the eldest son of Bilha), Chushim. Curiously, however, the Torah employs the plural form, as if Dan had more children than just Chushim: "U-vnei Dan Chushim" (literally, "The sons of Dan: Chushim"). The Gemara in Masekhet Bava Batra (143b) cites this verse in an attempt to decide a case involving a father of a son and daughter who declares that he bequeaths his possessions "le-banai" - "to my sons." Does he refer to his son or to both children? This question hinges around the issue as to whether a single son can be referred to with the plural form "banai." Abayei cites our verse as evidence that indeed the plural form can refer to just a single son. Rava, however, dismisses the proof, citing a different explanation for the Torah's use of the plural form in our verse. The Torah here may have meant that Dan's descendants were numerous like "chushim," or reeds. The Gemara then brings other instances in Tanach where the word "u-vnei" appears in reference to a single son.

What emerges, then, are two different explanations for the plural form "u-vnei" in this verse: either this term can, at times, refer to a single son, or it alludes to the multitude that emerged from Chusham's offspring.

The Ibn Ezra, however, suggests that Dan had two sons, one of whom died. The plural form is used include the other son as part of Dan's family. Now since the verse reads, "Dan's sons: Chushim," the Ibn Ezra presumably claims that Dan had two sons named Chushim. As it is hardly likely that Dan would give tsame name to both his sons, we may assume that, according to the Ibn Ezra, Dan's second son waborn after the death of his first, and he named his second son, Chushim, after his first son who bore that name.

Interestingly enough, Rav Aharon Levin, in his "Ha-derash Ve-ha'iyun," notes a possible halakhic ramification of the Ibn Ezra's position. Rav Levin cites earlier sources who discuss the propriety of naming a child after an older sibling who had died, and notes that at least according to the Ibn Ezra's interpretation, we have proof that indeed one may do so.

*****

Towards the end of Parashat Vayigash we read of Yosef's management of the Egyptian economy during the devastating seven-year famine. As the famine intensified, the Egyptian people offered more and more of their own possessions - and, ultimately, themselves - in exchange for food. At one stage, they retained ownership over their lands but sold their cattle: "They brought their livestock to Yosef, and Yosef gave them bread in exchange for the horses, for the stocks of sheep and cattle, and the donkeys; thus he provided them with bread that year in exchange for all their livestock" (47:17). Among the animals listed in this verse, the sheep are perhaps the most noteworthy. As we know from Parashat Vaera (Shemot 8:22) and countless Midrashim, the Egyptians worshipped sheep. Yet, when famine struck, food prices soared and the Egyptians peasantry lost everything but their animals, even these deities became mere barter used in the purchase of grain. In fact, Rav Shemuel Yaakov Rateh (in "Divrei Shir") suggests that for this reason alone the Torah went through the trouble of listing the types of animals the Egyptians exchanged for grain - to emphasize the rapid deterioration of sheep's status from superhuman creatures to dollar bills.

If so, then the aforementioned reference to the Egyptians' deification of sheep in Sefer Shemot takes on particular significance. We do not know when this happened, but at some point - most likely immediately after the famine's end - the Egyptians once again accorded superhuman qualities to this animal. Once Egypt's agriculture recovered and returned to its glory, its population once again prostrated themselves before their own success, symbolized by the sheep. Whereas they had been previously compelled to acknowledge a higher force who can subdue Egypt's seemingly invincible power source, thereafter they reverted back to their pagan ideals and recognized no being greater than their national symbol of prosperity.

This cycle has repeated itself in many forms and on many different levels throughout history. When difficult times set upon us, when we encounter individual or communal crisis, we come face-to-face with the limitless power of God. These are particularly humbling experiences, as we must come to terms with our own helplessness and total dependence on a higher force. As the crisis thankfully dissipates, so does this awareness. Our confidence returns and we rest comfortably in the deceptive fortress of our own competence. "A new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Yosef" (Shemot 1:8). We so easily forget the message of Yosef, who stood before the pagan world and declared, "Not I! God will see to Pharaoh's welfare" (Bereishit 41:16). Even during times of good health, peace and prosperity, we must remember to attribute our welfare and success to the only One with the power to grant us these precious blessings.

*****

As Yaakov makes his way to Egypt to reunite with his son, Yosef, God appears to him in a prophetic vision and offers him encouragement. Among the promises the Almighty makes to Yaakov is, "Yosef will place his hand over your eyes" ("ve-Yosef yashit yado al einekha" - 46:4). What does this mean?

Several different interpretations appear in the commentaries. Perhaps the most straightforward understanding is to view the term as a euphemism for Yosef's provision of all Yaakov's needs throughout his years in Egypt. The Rashbam, Seforno and Chizkuni (in his second approach) interpret along these lines, only they differ in the way they extract this meaning from the words. Seforno explains that Yosef's efforts on his father's behalf will absolve Yaakov of the need to "open his eyes" to supervise his affairs. Throughout his years in Egypt, Yaakov could "keep his eyes closed," enjoy a worry-free life as his son cares for all his needs. The Rashbam and Chizkuni, by contrast, reread the word "einekha" (your eyes) as "inyanekha" - your affairs. This phrase thus means that Yosef will pay full attention to all of Yaakov's concerns.

Another group of Rishonim adopt a much different, more literal approach, one which appears as early as in the commentary of Rav Sa'adya Gaon. Rav Sa'dya cryptically writes, "He will close your eyes." Meaning, Yosef will perform the customary ritual by which a son closes his father's eyes immediately after his death. God thus informs Yaakov that Yosef will attend his death. The Ibn Ezra, Radak and Chizkuni (in his first approach) follow this explanation in their respective commentaries. This interpretation, of course, raises the question as to the significance of Yosef's closing his father's eyes. What does this represent, and why must God inform Yaakov of his son's presence at his death? Two different possibilities within this general approach appear in the commentaries. The Chizkuni explains this promise to mean that Yosef will ensure the return of Yaakov's remains to Eretz Canaan for burial there. This accommodates the explanation given by the Chizkuni and many others - including Rashi - of the immediately preceding clause in this verse: "… and I will surely bring you back." According to many Rishonim, God here guarantees Yaakov of his burial in Canaan. It stands to reason, then, as the Chizkuni explains, that the following clause - "Yosef will place his hand over your eyes" - relates to that promise.

The Radak, however, takes a different approach. God guarantees Yaakov that Yosef will not only tend to his needs, but will remain in power after Yaakov's death to support Yaakov's children and grandchildren.

We conclude with one final interpretation of this verse, along the lines of "derush," by Rav Yeshaya Ehrenfeld (a grandson of the Chatam Sofer), in his work, "Shevet Sofer." As several commentators explain, as he traveled to Egypt Yaakov felt concerned over the spiritual well-being of his family. What kind of relationship will develop between Benei Yisrael and the Egyptians? Will they remain distinct? Will they retain their identity even while their interact with the Egyptians on all different levels? If they assimilate too thoroughly, will they ever make it back to Canaan to fulfill their national destiny? God therefore promises him, "I will descend with you to Egypt, and I will surely bring you back." The presence of God will accompany Yaakov and his family in Egypt, ensuring their distinctive identity and eventual return to Canaan. Moreover, "Yosef will place his hand over your eyes." Rav Ehrenfeld suggests that Yosef will serve as a source of comfort, assuaging Yaakov's fears. The fact that Yosef has remained loyal to his past and the teachings of the patriarchs even while ascending to the peak of the Egyptian bureaucracy will reassure Yaakov that with the Almighty's help, his offspring will retain their Jewish identity even in the spiritually hostile environs of Egypt, and they will ultimately return to the land of their forefathers.

This shiur is provided courtesy of the Virtual Beit Midrash, the premier source of online courses on Torah and Judaism - 14 different courses on all levels, for all backgrounds.

Make Jewish learning part of your week on a regular basis - enroll in the
Virtual Beit Midrash

Yeshivat Har Etzion
Alon Shvut, Israel, 90433
office@etzion.org.il