Heart and Eyes.

Posted by Guest Contributor IshbitzForever

After the birth of Moses, in an attempt to save his life, his mother hides him in a basket and places in the Nile river. The daughter of the Pharaoh goes down to the water to bathe, she sees the basket floating on the water, she retrieves it and the passage tells us:

  "She saw him, the child, and behold the young one was crying"

   The Zohar wondering about apparent redundancy in the sentence clarifies that the "child" refers to Moses, while "the young one crying" refers to the Nation Of Israel who were crying from the pain of the exile.

     Let's understand the message of the verse in this light.

    The daughter of Pharaoh has been indoctrinated her entire life with the belief that the Jewish people are a threat to her nation's stability, and by extension her family and herself.

   Throughout history it has always been the nature of those that feel threatened to dehumanize those they feel threatened by, this clears the conscious and allows whatever actions necessary to neutralize the threat no matter how barbaric. The drive for self preservation focuses and limits the entire existence of their perceived enemy to this one dimension - "the threat". Objectifying the enemy in this way depletes him of any humanity, limiting them to nothing more than a number on an arm, deserving no understanding, mercy, or compassion.

    It is only when "she saw him, the child" - she takes the baby in her arms and sees, not the enemy, not the threat, but a child, a fellow human that her heart is opened, breaking thru the wall of fear, and allowing her heart to see things in a new light. For the first time she questions the threat and hears the cries of the Jewish people that until now made no impression on her, for until now they were the cries of the un-human. Standing there gazing at Moses she lets go of the fear and allows herself to connect with the "other" and see them as fellow members of humanity.

   Although our eyes sees, its the heart that will dictate and how we perceive the image, what value we attribute to it, what our emotional reaction is, so in a way our hearts our character will be the last word on what we see. So one might say the heart is greater but if we do not encounter new things with our eyes, our hearts will have no new inputs to add to what we know and what room is there for growth will will travel thru life with childish perceptions.

    The eye and heart most move in tandem, experiencing, learning, growing.

On the Trail of Blessings: Eisav's Plot

The Midrash tells us of a financial transaction between Yaakov and Eisav.

Yaakov took all the money he earned in the house of Lavan – a literal pile of silver and gold – and gave it to Eisav in exchange for Eisav’s plot in מערת המכפלה, the family burial cave in Hebron (Rashi to 50:5). אמר, נכסי חוץ לארץ אינן כדאי לי  - Yaakov said, “Wealth from outside of Israel is unimportant to me” (Rashi to 46:6).

While there is a family tradition of paying retail for a gravesite (23:16), throwing money away is wrong. It is therefore surprising that Yaakov made such an unnecessarily excessive offer. (The alternative, that Eisav’s asking price happened to match Yaakov’s earnings in Charan, is an unlikely coincidence, to say the least.) Yaakov was not wasteful of the wealth he earned in Charan; he even went out of his way to retrieve small jugs (Rashi to 32:24). Why is he volunteering now to give it all away?

Yaakov has no issue with wealth per se; the money he earned in Israel he keeps for himself (46:6). And to suggest that there is something wrong with bringing foreign funds into the Holy Land is also untenable, for Avraham happily imported Pharaoh’s gifts (13:2). There must be a deeper meaning here: a correlation between the money Yaakov earned abroad and Eisav’s plot in Eretz Yisroel.

As we have learned, Yaakov never made peace with Eisav’s bracha and the mission of the איש שדה that was bound up with it. For Yaakov, success in Haran was a source of discomfort. Despite his attempt to deny it (Rashi to 32:6), Yaakov’s שדה-based wealth was a clear indication that he had indeed usurped Eisav’s role. (According to Eruvin 27b, cattle are considered גדולי קרקע, and are therefore presumably also שמני ארץ.)

Eisav’s ownership of a plot in מערת המכפלה is also discomforting. Firstly, it is piece of ארץ ישראל, the land of קדושה that is Yaakov’s Promised Land (28:13). Worse yet is the symbolism. The Talmud tells us that there were only eight gravesites in the cave, for four couples: Adam and Chava, Avraham and Sara, Yitzchok and Rivka, and Leah and her spouse. Only one plot remained, the one beside Leah (Sotah 13a; Rashi to 49:21). Interment in the family’s ancestral burial site implies that Eisav is a member of the pantheon of forefathers. This is a disgrace Yaakov cannot tolerate.

Yaakov said, “This Rasha is destined to enter with his sons into the מערת המכפלה?! He will have a share and a seat with the Tzaddikim buried there?!” (Shemos Rabba 31:17)

Taken together, Yaakov financial success and Eisav’s plot evoke the original conception of a partnership between the two brothers in the Abrahamic dynasty, but with a reversal of roles: Yaakov as גביר (cf. 27:37) and Eisav as spiritual leader. Strange as it sounds, Eisav’s position in the family was still an open question; Hashem does not sign off on Yaakov’s purchase of the birthright until Moshe is sent to save the Jews from Egypt (Rashi to Shemos 4:22).

Yaakov is rightly concerned and he comes up with an elegant solution: buying Eisav’s plot in ארץ ישראל with the wealth he made in חוץ לארץ. For Yaakov, it is a natural trade and a win-win, as it frees him of the stigma of the איש שדה and cements his ownership of the coveted birthright. Eisav’s consent to the sale is yet another insult to the birthright (cf. 25:34), supplying further justification for his removal from the family – a key aspect of Yaakov’s intention, no doubt.

In the generation of Yaakov and Eisav, we are presented with two options in life: to be a יושב אהלים in ישראל ארץ or an איש שדה in חוץ לארץ. The איש שדה is not a natural צדיק, and Yaakov rejects that identity. However, the elements are not mutually exclusive. There is another model: an איש שדה in חוץ לארץ who holds the birthright – and is also a צדיק. This archetype is personified in the next generation by none other than Yaakov’s own beloved son Yosef.

Where the Wild Things Are Frightened

The brothers strip Yosef of his precious coat, stain it with blood, bring it home and show it to their father. They ask, "Is this your son's jacket or not?" (37:32)

Why the scam? Would it not have been more compassionate for the brothers to simply deny having seen Yosef at all? Why traumatize Yaakov with nightmares of violence?

II

"Yisroel loved Yosef more than all his [other] sons" (37:3). Clearly, Yaakov believed Yosef to be a Tzaddik. However, the reality was not so simple. The Torah tells us explicitly that "Yosef brought negative reports [about his brothers] to their father" (37:2). In the brothers' opinion, Yosef was not the righteous son he appeared to be; he was a Rasha who spoke Lashon HaRa and informed on them. The fact that Yaakov had positive feelings about Yosef was, as the Torah attests, due to the fact that Yosef was a בן זקנים, "a son of his old age" (37:3). The recent precedent of a father misjudging his beloved son was fresh in everyone's mind and the brothers undoubtedly felt that Yaakov had been fooled by Yosef just as Yitzchok had been fooled by Eisav. (For more on the brothers' fear of Yosef as a reincarnation of Eisav, see this post.) 

Understanding the brothers' perspective explains their seemingly outrageous behavior after they throw Yosef in the pit. 

"They took him and cast him into the pit. The pit was empty, it had no water. They then sat down to eat bread..." (37:24-25). 

To eat bread?! Is the Torah telling us that the brothers were heartless?

According to the Rashbam (37:28), the brothers never sold Yosef. They just left him in the pit where he was discovered by the Midianites who sold him to the Yishmaelites. Unaware of these developments, Reuven is shocked to find the pit empty and reports his discovery to the brothers (37:30). (Rashi interprets events differently, but the Rashbam's narrative is undoubtedly the most straightforward reading of the text, cf. Sifsei Chachomim ad loc.). 

The pit was infested with snakes and scorpions (Rashi to 37:24), and so the brothers naturally assumed that Yosef had been poisoned. Reuven says as much years later when he criticizes his brothers. "I explicitly told you not to sin against the boy, and you did not listen! And now his blood demands [justice]" (42:22). The term "blood," especially in the sense of demanding justice, is a reference to a homicide victim, as we see in Hashem's words to Cain, "The voice of your brother's blood is crying out to me from the earth" (4:10). (Consistent with his view that the brothers sold Yosef, Rashi interprets the expression differently here.) 

Presuming Yosef had been killed by the snakes, it is perfectly understandable why the brothers sat down for a feast, for this is exactly what the Halacha dictates one must do when a brother guilty of informing passes away:      

כל הפורשים מדרכי צבור... וכן המומרים והמוסרים, כל אלו אין אוננים ואין מתאבלים עליהם אלא אחיהם ושאר קרוביהם לובשים לבנים ומתעטפים לבנים ואוכלים ושותים ושמחים - "Anyone who abandons communal norms... heretics and informers, we do not morn their passing. Rather, their brothers and other relatives dress in white, eat, drink, and rejoice" (Shulchan Aruch Y.D. 345:5). 

III

After the flood, when Noach exited the ark, Hashem made a striking statement: "The fear of you and the dread of you will be on all the wild animals of the earth, on all the birds of the sky, on all that crawls on the ground..." (9:2). The Midrash explains that it had been common for animals to attack members of the wicked generation prior to the flood. Hashem was promising that going forward animals would be afraid to touch the righteous family of Noach (Midrash Aggada). The Talmud affirms the point: 

אמר רמי בר חמא: אין חיה רעה שולטת באדם אלא אם כן נדמה לו כבהמה, שנאמר נמשל כבהמות נדמו - "A dangerous animal will not attack a person unless it thinks he's an animal" (Sanhedrin 38b).

In other words, wild animals don't attack Tzaddikim. The famous story of Daniel in the den of lions is a case in point. Daniel attributed his miraculous salvation to the fact that Hashem "found him innocent" (Daniel 6:16).

Returning to our original question about the brother's behavior, we can now understand that staining Yosef's coat with blood was not, חס ושלום, a callous act. On the contrary, it was a well-considered way of informing Yaakov that he was wrong about Yosef. Yosef was a Rasha, evidenced by the fact that animals were unafraid to attack him. The brothers were attempting to ease their father's pain, consoling him with proof that Yosef deserved to die and was unworthy of mourning. Certain that Yosef had been bitten by a snake, the brothers considered a blood-stained coat to be a truthful presentation of Yosef's fate. 

Rejecting the suggestion that Yosef was wicked, Yaakov "refused to be consoled" (37:35) and insisted on mourning the loss of his son for the rest of his life. Although excessive mourning is ordinarily prohibited, Yaakov was affirming his view of Yosef's righteousness, for an exception is made for the greatest Tzaddikim. Yaakov himself is a case in point (50:3), as is Moshe Rabbeinu (Devarim 34:8). (Yaakov's and Moshe's "period of crying" lasted seventy and thirty days respectively, compared with the three days dictated by Halacha, cf. Moed Koton 27b.) 

The brothers' plan backfired. Aware that Tzaddikim receive divine protection and confident in Yosef's righteousness, Yaakov was left with no choice but to question the voracity of the brothers' story. This explains the surprising assertion of the Midrash (quoted by Rashi to 42:36), that Yaakov suspected the brothers had either killed or sold Yosef. 

[Although Yaakov felt a need to protect himself from wild animals when he slept outdoors (28:11), that was not because he doubted Hashem's promise, ח"ו. Rather, the אבות were always careful to avoid relying on miracles (עיין רבי ירוחם ליבוביץ ז"ל, דעת חכמה ומוסר, ריש חלק א באריכות).]

Of course, Yaakov was correct in his judgement. The snakes and scorpions did not attack Yosef. As Hashem promised Noach long ago, even animals that crawl on the ground would never dare harm a true Tzaddik. But the divine protection of Yosef goes well beyond the animal kingdom. Yosef is untouchable. Yaakov called him עלי עין, "above the evil eye," because the forces of evil have no power over him (Rashi to 49:22). More than that, all attempts to do Yosef harm boomerang into blessings. The brothers threw him into a pit, as did the wife of Potifar, but these crimes only served to launch Yosef's meteoric rise to power. Only a man of extraordinary righteousness is worthy of such extraordinary divine providence.

At the very end of the story, after the passing of their father Yaakov, the brothers are terrified that Yosef will finally take revenge. Appealing for mercy, they offer to be his slaves (50:15-18). Yosef responds with this observation: "You planned to do me harm but Hashem directed it for the good" (50:20). What relevance does that have to the question of revenge?

Yosef may be saying that I couldn't hurt you even if I tried, but in light of the above, Yosef is making a different point. To paraphrase his response: 

"You are afraid that I will take revenge?! You still think I am wicked and evil?! Not only did Hashem protect me from your attempted murder, He turned it into the best thing that ever happened to me! What greater proof of righteousness can there be than that?" (For a different approach to this conversation, see the end of this post.)

IV

Fascinating parallels exist between the Yosef story and the Exodus story. In the Yosef story, the brothers are afraid of Yosef, view him negatively, and decide to sell him as a slave, while Yaakov recognized Yosef for who he was and elevated him into the position of firstborn, gifting him with an extra portion of inheritance (48:22). More than that, Yaakov entered Yosef into the pantheon of forefathers, declaring Yosef's sons to be on par with Reuven and Shimon (48:5). In the Exodus story, the Pharaoh is afraid of the Jews, views them negatively, and decides to enslave them, while Hashem loves the Jewish People and declares them to be "my son, my firstborn" (Shemos 4:22). Both stories share the common elements of fear, misjudgment and persecution of the righteous. 

The consequences also match. The brothers' attempt to eliminate Yosef is what puts him into power. Similarly, Pharaoh's decree to throw the baby boys in the Nile leads directly to the rise of Moshe. (For more on the boomerang effect, see this post.)

This last point greatly impressed Moshe's father-in-law Yisro. 

Yisro rejoiced over all the goodness that Hashem did for the Jewish People, saving it from the hand of Egypt... "Now I know that Hashem is greater than all forces, for [the Egyptians were destroyed] with the very thing that they plotted against them." (18:9,11). They were cooked in the pot which they cooked up (Rashi ad loc. from Sotah 11a). 

In life of Yosef and in the miracles of the Exodus, divine intervention is evidence of divine love, and divine love is evidence of righteousness (cf. Rambam, Hilchos Teshuva 7:6). Given the complexity of life, righteousness is difficult to define and impossible to judge. People, even great people like Yosef's brothers, can easily get it wrong. Only the all-knowing Almighty knows the truth (cf. Rambam ad loc. 3:2). 

V

Another parallel between the Yosef story and the Exodus story can be found in the fourth plague, מכת ערוב.

Hashem said to Moshe, "Arise early in the morning and stand before Pharaoh; He will be going out to the water. Tell him, so said God, 'Send out my people and they will serve me. For if you don't send out my people, I will send the arov against you... On that day, I will differentiate the land of Goshen upon which my people stand; no arov will be there, so that you shall know that I am God in the midst of the earth'" (Shemos 8:16-18). Arov: A mixture of all types of wild animals, snakes and scorpions attacked them (Rashi ad loc.).

Here, when Hashem wants to illustrate the difference between Jew and Egyptian and demonstrate His presence and providence, He uses snakes and scorpions. The choice of animals is interesting. Elsewhere in Tanach, when Hashem calls upon animals to attack His enemies, He uses flying insects (Devarim 7:20), bears (Melachim II 2:24), and lions (Rashi to Bereishis 7:16), not snakes and scorpions.

The animals of arov are not random. Snakes and scorpions evoke the original event which led the Egyptian exile. Just as the righteousness of Yosef was affirmed by his emerging unscathed from a pit of snakes and scorpions, so too in the plague of arov, snakes and scorpions only attack the wicked and keep their distance from the righteous.

Dominance over snakes gains added significance in light of the fact that the snake is the symbol of the Yetzer HaRa (cf. Bereishis 3:1; Nefesh Hachaim 1:6). The idea can be expanded to include the entire animal kingdom, for all animals ultimately represent the animal within man (cf. Rashi to Yona 4:11). By definition, "righteousness" is the mastery and control of the negative drives. Animals' fear of the righteous is thus an external expression of an internal reality.

VI

The Torah is clear. The purpose of the plagues is to educate Egypt about the nature of God. Hashem wanted the Egyptians to recognize His existence, omnipotence and providence, but there is more. The Egyptians must also understand that the Jews are a holy nation. This is the message of the arov, and this is why Moshe keeps telling Pharaoh that the Jews are Hashem's People and He wants them released from servitude so they can serve Him. It is not a marginal point. As can be seen in Maimonides Principles of Faith, only one who accepts the idea of a Chosen Nation understands the nature of God. And that necessarily includes acknowledgment of the essential holiness, goodness, and righteousness of the Jewish People.

After the seventh plague of hail, Pharaoh finally surrenders to the truth. "Hashem is the Tzaddik; me and my people are the Reshaim" (9:27). This is progress, but Pharaoh's admission falls short, for he has only recognized that he is in the wrong. While Pharaoh may view the Jews as hapless victims, he has not acknowledged their special relationship with Hashem. That will have to wait for the greatest miracle of all, the splitting of the sea.