S.A.L.T. – PARASHAT VAYECHI

By Rav David Silveberg

MOTZAEI

            The Mishneh Le-melekh, in Hilkhot Avel (3:1), addresses the question of whether a mummified corpse transmits tum’at meit – the ritual impurity that one contracts upon touching (or being under a roof with) a dead human body.  Mummies differ from ordinary corpses in that they are completely drained of bodily fluids, and the Mishna Le-melekh discusses the issue of whether this affects the corpse’s status with respect to the transmission of tum’at meit.  The Mishneh Le-melekh concludes that mummified corpses are considered similar to ordinary corpses in this regard, and kohanim must therefore not come in contact with mummies.

            A number of later writers addressed the question of why the Mishneh Le-melekh did not draw proof to his ruling from the story of the remains of Yosef.  The final verse of Parashat Vayechi states that Yosef’s remains underwent the customary Egyptian embalming process (“va-yachantu oto”), and were then placed in a coffin.  Later, in Sefer Shemot (13:19), we read that Yosef’s remains were taken from Egypt at the time of the Exodus, and at the end of Sefer Yehoshua (24:32), we are told that the remains were buried in the city of Shekhem.  Yosef’s remains were thus transported throughout Benei Yisrael’s sojourn in the wilderness, and, according to one view in the Gemara (Sukka 25a), the bearers of Yosef’s coffin were unable to observe the paschal offering because of their state of ritual impurity (see Bamidbar 9:1-14).  It clearly emerges that Yosef’s mummified corpse transmitted tum’at meit, disqualifying the transporters from offering the paschal sacrifice.  Similarly, the Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (67a) notes that when Benei Yisrael encamped in the wilderness, Moshe brought Yosef’s coffin to his area of residence in the Levite section of the camp.  The Gemara establishes on this basis that a person who contracted tum’at meit was allowed entry into the Levite quarters, and is therefore allowed to enter the Temple Mount (provided that he remains outside the Temple courtyard), which corresponds with the Levite camp.  These sources clearly assume that Yosef’s remains transmitted tum’a, seemingly proving that mummified corpses are no different in this regard from ordinary corpses.  The question thus arises as to why the Mishneh Le-melekh felt compelled to address this issue, when it seems plainly obvious that mummies indeed transmit tum’at meit.

            Rav Avraham Shemuel Binyamin Sofer, in his Chashav Sofer (Jerusalem, 1965), explained that in truth, we cannot draw proof from Yosef’s pole bearers that mummified corpses transmit tum’at meit.  The Gemara in Masekhet Sota (13a) describes the process by which Yosef’s coffin was located at the time of the Exodus, and in this discussion the Gemara mentions that it was made from metal.  Elsewhere, in Masekhet Nazir (53b), the Gemara establishes a halakha known as “cherev harei hu ke-chalal,” which means that a metal article that comes in contact with a human corpse assumes the corpse’s status with respect to tum’a.  Meaning, if a human corpse comes in contact with a metal instrument, a person who touches that instrument obtains the same status of tum’a as one who comes in contact with the corpse itself.  Possibly, the Chashav Sofer suggests, when Yosef’s remains were placed in the metal coffin, the body was not yet completely dried of its fluids, and thus it still transmitted the status of tum’at meit.  As such, the coffin, by coming in direct contact with the corpse that was still decomposing, assumed the halakhic status of a corpse, as per the rule of “cherev harei hu ke-chalal.”  Therefore, those who carried the coffin contracted tum’a simply by virtue of their contact with the coffin, and irrespective of the status of Yosef’s mummified remains.  Their status of tum’a thus provides no proof to the status of Yosef’s corpse, and for this reason, perhaps, the Mishneh Le-melekh did not seek to prove his claim from the tum’a status of those who transported Yosef’s coffin.

SUNDAY

            The Torah in Parashat Vayechi records Yaakov’s final remarks to each of his twelve sons, beginning with Reuven, whom Yaakov reprimands for the incident involving Bilha.  Yaakov explains that although Reuven technically deserved the position of family leadership by virtue of his status as the firstborn, he forfeited this privilege because “you ascended onto your father’s bed” (49:4).  Yaakov speaks of Reuven as “rushing hastily like water” (“pachaz ka-mayim”), referring to his rash, impulsive decision that led to his wrongdoing.  (Rashi, based on Chazal, explains that Reuven moved his father’s bed into the tent of his mother, Leah, to defend her honor after Yaakov moved his bed into the tent of his maidservant Bilha, following Rachel’s death.)

            The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 98), interestingly enough, detects in Yaakov’s analogy an element of praise, applauding Reuven’s repentance after committing this transgression: “You made for yourself a mikveh of water and purified yourself in it.”  According to the plain reading of the text, Yaakov here compares Reuven to water in reference to his haste and rash behavior.  On the deeper level of understanding, however, this comparison is also intended as an allusion to Reuven’s “immersion,” meaning, his sincere repentance that followed his misdeed.

            Essentially, the Midrash here draws a contrast between two different images involving water: the image of a raging current, and that of stationary water collected in a pool.  The word “mikveh” means “gathering” (as in the phrase, “yikavu ha-mayim” – Bereishit 1:9), and refers to water that has been collected and is currently stored in a single location.  Symbolically, the mikveh waters stand in direct contrast with the waters in rivers and streams.  A mikveh is a place where water stands still, calmly and peacefully, as opposed to the flowing waters of a river.

            Reuven sinned in acting hastily like a raging current, with raw instinct and impulsivity.  His teshuva, the Midrash teaches, involved changing the current into a mikveh, replacing the rushing waters with a calm, peaceful lake.  Important decisions cannot be made rashly; they require slow, careful consideration.  The correction of Reuven’s sin is thus symbolized by the contrast between the current of a river and the waters of a mikveh.  We cannot go through life like raging river waters, rushing forward indiscriminately.  We must instead try to follow the image of the mikveh, remembering to “stand still” while carefully charting our course, rather than constantly moving forward without thought and planning.

MONDAY

            In Parashat Vayechi, we read of the final days of Yaakov’s life, when, among other things, he declares that Yosef’s two sons – Menashe and Efrayim – will henceforth be considered as sons of Yaakov: “Efrayim u-Menashe ki-R’uven ve-Shimon yiheyu li” (48:5).  This meant that Efrayim and Menashe’s descendants would constitute two independent tribes of Israel, rather than be subsumed under a single tribe of Yosef.  Immediately after conferring this status upon Efrayim and Menashe, Yaakov recounts to Yosef the events surrounding the death of his (Yosef’s) mother, Rachel, who passed away as the family traveled toward Chevron, and was therefore buried along the roadside.

            Why does Yaakov recount this event while speaking to Yosef about Efrayim and Menashe?

            Rashi explains Yaakov’s remarks as an apology, of sorts, for failing to do to Rachel what he now asks of Yosef.  Earlier, Yaakov had instructed Yosef to swear that he would bring his remains back to Canaan for burial in Me’arat Ha-makhpela – according him an honor that he did not accord to Rachel.  Yaakov therefore explains to Yosef that Rachel’s undignified burial was necessitated due to the circumstances of her death, and would also serve a future generation of Am Yisrael that would pass by her grave on their way to exile.

            One might, however, question Rashi’s explanation, in light of the fact that Yaakov’s request to be buried in Canaan was made in an earlier meeting with Yosef.  In the current meeting, the focus of the discussion is on Menashe and Efrayim, and it thus seems difficult to explain why Yaakov would reintroduce the issue of burial in this context.

            Rav Eliyahu Baruch Shulman http://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/706752/Rabbi_Eli_Baruch_Shulman/Drosho_for_Vayechi_5765) suggested a different possible approach.  In this meeting with Yosef, Yaakov, in a sense, bestows his final gift upon his two wives, Leah and Rachel.  As we read in Parashat Vayetze, Leah was blessed with many children, but desperately strove to earn Yaakov’s love; Rachel, by contrast, was deeply loved by Yaakov, but was pained by her infertility.  Each of Yaakov’s wives had what the other didn’t, and lacked what the other had.  This tension was most clearly manifest in the incident of the duda’im plants, which Leah received from her son, and which, according to many, was seen as a fertility drug of sorts.  Rachel obtained the plants from Leah in exchange for a night with Yaakov; Rachel sought to share with Leah what she had and which Leah desired – Yaakov’s company – in exchange for what she wanted but Leah had – fertility.

            As Yaakov prepared for his imminent passing, he declared that Yosef’s two sons – Rachel’s grandchildren – would have the status of tribes.  His last gift to Rachel was an extra son; Yosef would be treated as two sons, such that Rachel in effect begot three of Yaakov’s sons, rather than just two.  And in the next breath, Yaakov noted that Leah would receive her greatest wish, as well – it would be aside her where Yaakov would make his eternal resting place.  While Rachel would forever lie alone, along the roadside, Leah would be joined by Yaakov for eternity.  During their lifetimes, Rachel enjoyed Yaakov’s love but agonized over her inability to conceive, while Leah was blessed with a fertile womb but sought a deeper relationship with Yaakov.  Just before his death, Yaakov granted each what they desired: Rachel received an extra child, and Leah was given a resting place alongside Yaakov.

            Rav Shulman concludes by noting the practical lesson that may emerge from this analysis of Rachel and Leah.  Namely, few people receive all they want in life.  We all have many aspirations and desires, only some of which will be fulfilled.  Rachel enjoyed her husband’s love, and Leah was blessed with many children; neither was blessed with both.  One of the greatest challenges in life is to accept its imperfection, the reality that it will not give us everything we want.  As Rav Shulman writes:

There is a very deep message here. In all of our lives there is a gap between what we have, and what we want. We all have our dreams – nachat from children, wealth, professional success, spiritual stature, intellectual or artistic or creative accomplishment, popularity, marital bliss, fame, leadership, and so on. The hardest fact of life is that no one gets everything. Not everywhere do the dreams that we dare to dream really come true. To each of us some things are given, and some are denied. Some gifts we are given, and some are denied us. And those we are given are not necessarily those that, given a choice, we would have preferred. And in each of our lives there will always remain unfulfilled longings, and unrealized dreams.

But if we allow that longing to overwhelm us, to blind us to the wonderful things in our lives, if we dwell on our dissatisfactions, and the gifts that we have been denied rather than those we have been vouchsafed, then we ruin our enjoyment of what the Ribbono Shel Olam does choose to give us… At the end of the day no one gets everything; and the hallmark of maturity is to make peace with that knowledge, and to be able to acknowledge the gifts that we are given, and to rejoice in them.

TUESDAY

            We read in Parashat Vayechi of the special blessings that Yaakov conferred upon Yosef’s two sons, Menashe and Efrayim, shortly before his death.  When he first sees Yosef’s sons, Yaakov asks, somewhat surprisingly, “Who are these?” (“Mi eileh?” – 48:8).  Rashi, citing the Midrash, explains that Yaakov prophetically foresaw the sinful offspring of Efrayim and Menashe.  Efrayim’s descendants included Yerovam, founder of the Israelite Kingdom, who established two golden calves as sites of religious worship so that his subjects would not frequent the Temple in Jerusalem.  And the tribe of Menashe included the kings of the dynasty of Yeihu, who fought to obliterate the pagan worship of Ba’al from the Northern Kingdom, but ultimately resorted themselves to foreign worship.  When Yaakov foresaw these descendants of Yosef’s sons, Rashi writes, the Shekhina departed from him.  He was unable to bless his grandchildren until Yosef prayed that his ru’ah ha-kodesh (prophetic capabilities) would be restored.

            A slightly different sequence of events appears to emerge from other Midrashic sources.  Just before relating Yaakov’s blessing to Efrayim and Menashe, the Torah informs us that “Yisrael’s eyes were weary from old age; he could not see” (48:10).  The Pesikta Rabbeti (3) cites Rabbi Nechemya as stating that this description refers to the loss of ru’ach ha-kodesh.  Yaakov’s physical blindness reflected his inability to “see” into the future.  (See also the sources cited in Torah Sheleima, note 71.)  As the description of Yaakov’s “blindness” appears just prior to his conferring the blessing, we might infer from these Midrashic passages that Yaakov blessed Efrayim and Menashe without regaining his ru’ach ha-kodesh.  Whereas Rashi commented that Yosef restored his father’s prophetic insight through prayer, these Midrashim seem to indicate that Yaakov blessed Efrayim and Menashe without ru’ach ha-kodesh.

            Indeed, the Beit Yisrael (the fourth Gerrer Rebbe), as cited in the Shemen Ha-tov, comments that Yaakov was able to bless Efrayim and Menashe specifically after his ru’ach ha-kodesh was taken from him.  Once he lost the ability to look far ahead into Efrayim and Menashe’s idolatrous future, he regained the ability to bless them.  In this sense, according to the Beit Yisrael, the absence of ru’ach ha-kodesh actually worked to Yaakov’s benefit.  With his prophetic capabilities suspended, he focused his attention on Efrayim and Menashe’s current credentials and potential for greatness, rather than on the mistakes of their descendants many centuries later.  He was then able to bless them.

            Blessing others often requires a certain degree of “blindness.”  If we study people too thoroughly, if we look too deeply into their lives and characters, we will, inevitably, find the “Yerovam” and “Yeihu,” the less-than-complimentary aspects of their personalities.  And when that happens, we lose the ability to bless them, to sincerely wish them well.  The Beit Yisrael’s insight calls upon us to look at other people without “digging,” without too much depth and analysis.  This “blindness” is what allows us to enjoy and appreciate the admirable qualities of our peers without being disturbed by their shortcomings, thus empowering us, like Yaakov, to shower blessings and goodwill upon those around us.

WEDNESDAY

            Parashat Vayechi begins with Yaakov’s summoning Yosef and requesting that he make a formal oath promising to bring Yaakov’s remains to Canaan for burial after his death.  Many commentators noted the unusual terminology that Yaakov used in introducing this request: “ve-asita imadi chesed ve-emet” (“you shall perform for me kindness and truth” – 47:29)).  Rashi famously cites the Midrash’s comment that a favor performed on behalf of a deceased person differs from favors performed for the living.  When a favor is done for a living person, even sincerely, the anticipation of some sort of remuneration invariably diminishes, if only slightly, from the benefactor’s sincerity.  The act will always be accompanied by the hope of a returned favor, or at least the hope of receiving the respect and admiration of the beneficiary.  No such anticipation hovers over a favor performed for the deceased, and thus such favors are described as chesed ve-emet – “kindness and truth.”  They are truly genuine and sincere, and not motivated by ulterior motives.

            According to Rashi, then, Yaakov uses this term in reference to his request to Yosef because he asks for a favor that will be performed only after his death, and thus constitutes “chesed ve-emet.”

            The work Ma’asei Hashem (cited in Yalkut Yehuda) suggests a different reason why Yaakov employs the term “chesed ve-emet” in this context.  Namely, Yaakov solicited an oath from Yosef, asking him to formally swear that he would transport his remains to Me’arat Ha-makhpela for burial.  When we do a favor that we had sworn to do, we perform not only an act of chesed – loving kindness to others – but also an act of emet, staying true to our word.  We uphold both the value of chesed – sensitivity to the needs of other people – and the value of emet – being truthful and fulfilling commitments.  Yaakov therefore described his request as “chesed ve-emet,” an act of both kindness and truthfulness.

            Promising to do a favor essentially transforms a voluntary act into a compulsory one, thereby making it more difficult.  Chesed is often accompanied by the thrill of volunteerism and originality.  When a person chooses to do a favor, he is often overcome by a feeling of self-importance and self-righteousness, as he performs an act that was not required and which was not demanded of him.  And even if not, the voluntary nature of the act affords him the freedom and flexibility to extend the favor on his terms and at his convenience.  But when a promise is made, the individual acts to fulfill an obligation.  By the time he fulfills his promise, the initial thrill of volunteerism has likely faded, and he no longer enjoys the freedom to change the terms of the favor.  Once a promise is made, one must approach the act of chesed as an obligation, and not as an original, voluntary act of magnanimity.  It is therefore chesed ve-emet, an act that expresses not only love for one’s fellow, but also a love for and commitment to the elementary values of truthfulness and honesty.

THURSDAY

             Among the more enigmatic of the blessings declared by Yaakov before his death is the blessing conferred upon Dan.  Yaakov likens the tribe of Dan to a snake “along the road” which “bites the heels of the horse, so that its rider falls backward” (49:17).  This analogy is itself mysterious, but perhaps even more perplexing is the introduction to this blessing: “Dan shall judge his people, like one of the tribes of Israel” (49:16).

            Rashi famously explains these verses as referring to Shimshon, who led Benei Yisrael in their struggles against the Philistines towards the end of the period of the Shofetim (Judges).  He is likened to a snake because he launched his attacks against the enemy in sudden, unexpected violent acts – like a snake approaches its prey unsuspectingly – rather than through proper combat.  As for the phrase, “like one of the tribes of Israel,” Rashi explains this to mean “as one, the tribes of Israel,” foreseeing the unity with which the people supported and rallied around Shimshon.  Rashi then adds a different interpretation, reading this phrase to mean, “like the special one of the tribes of Israel,” referring to Yehuda, and specifically to the Davidic dynasty that emerged from Yehuda.  According to this approach, Yaakov likened Shimshon’s victories to the successes of King David.

            The Pesikta Zutreta offers a much different explanation of this phrase:

This refers to Shimshon, who judged Israel and saved them from the hands of the Philistines.  He judged the tribes of Israel like the One – like the Almighty who is called “One.”  Just as the Almighty does not excessively burden Israel, similarly, Shimshon judged Israel but did not overburden them.

Shimshon, more so than other Shofetim, acted independently.  In fact, we don’t even see him mobilizing an army.  He responded to the need for leadership without making demands on the nation.  Although he led the resistance to the Philistines, he did not impose taxes or mandatory service.  Indeed, the Gemara comments in Masekhet Sota (10) that throughout his twenty years of leadership, Shimshon never even ordered an underling to bring his staff from one place to another.  He took full, personal responsibility for his role, to the point where he refrained from delegating menial jobs to his subordinates.  In this sense, he resembled God Himself, who gives infinitely more than He demands.  Shimshon serves Benei Yisrael without asking for anything in return, much as the Almighty sustains all life without imposing unreasonable demands.

            One who reads through the narrative of Shimshon in Sefer Shofetim will immediately notice that he is hardly among the most effective or pious leaders in Benei Yisrael’s history, nor was his period among the most serene or glamorous.  Nevertheless, Chazal, at least in this Midrashic passage, call upon us to admire his selflessness and humility in serving his nation.  He fought the Philistines alone and asked for little in return.  And for this he is worthy of being compared with the Almighty Himself.

FRIDAY

            Earlier this week, we discussed the unusual expression “chesed ve-emet” (“kindness and truth”) used by Yaakov in reference to his request that Yosef bring his remains from Egypt to Canaan for burial after his death (Bereishit 47:29).  As we saw, the commentators and darshanim offer different explanations for how this favor – bringing Yaakov’s remains back to his homeland for burial – expressed both the ideal of chesed – kindness to others – and emet – truthfulness.

            Rav Yehuda Leib Graubart, in his Yabia Omer (Lodz/Toronto, 1936), suggested that these two terms refer to the two different reasons underlying Yaakov’s request.  He asked to be buried in Canaan not only out of a personal affinity for his spiritual homeland, but also to convey this message to his descendants in Egypt.  Yaakov felt the need to impress upon his children, his grandchildren and future generations that Egypt was not their permanent national home.  The transportation of his remains to Me’arat Ha-makhpela, an event that Yaakov hoped would be remembered and recounted from parent to child, would serve as a reminder that the family settled in Egypt as a temporary measure to escape the drought in Canaan, and that they must constantly aspire to return to their homeland.

What Yaakov requested of Yosef, then, was an expression of both chesed and emet.  This was an act of kindness to Yaakov, but was also necessary in order to convey an important truth, to provide instruction and guidance.

Often, chesed and emet are at odds with one another.  Chesed means helping a person achieve what he wants, whereas emet demands establishing truth, and the truth is not always pleasant, enjoyable or convenient.  Parents, for example, are committed to performing chesed for their children, providing them with their needs and helping them fulfill their wishes, but also bear the responsibility of emet – conveying to them the principles by which they must lead their lives.  Very often, a parent must refrain from chesed – from giving the child what he/she wants – out of concern for emet, for the sake of transmitting timeless truths and ideals.  More generally, our commitment to Am Yisrael must be based upon the two ideals of chesed and emet: acting kindly toward others, and strictly maintaining and perpetuating our core principles.  We must learn to deal kindly with even those who do not share our perception of emet, while also ensuring not to compromise our principles in our desire and efforts to dispense kindness.  This is the delicate balance of “chesed ve-emet,” the commitment we must have to both the ideal of loving kindness and the ideal of truth.