How did the ancestors' actions influence the fate of their descendants?

The majority of the narrative of the book of Bereishit involves family feuds, fratricidal strife and Machiavellian machinations as various characters jostle for membership and seniority within the Patriarchal clan. What exactly are these early Israelites seeking to achieve and why does this inter-generational intrigue dominate the opening the book of the Torah? 

What is readily apparent is that the Torah places great significance on the identity and character of the Jewish nation's Founding Fathers (and mothers). There is an oft-quoted aggadic concept, ma'aseh avot siman lebanim, that the actions of ancestors can shape the spiritual destiny of subsequent generations. How exactly are we to relate to this perplexing principle and its apparent ability to effect a chain of causation which spans many generations?

Judaism Reclaimed examines this principle based on the approaches of Rabbi Yehuda Halevi and Rambam. In his Kuzari, R’ Yehudah Halevi describes how the early generations after Adam contained a number of worthy and holy individuals. Nevertheless, it was only Avraham and the Avot who succeeded in establishing a community built around the values and teachings of God, with the potential to develop into a chosen nation which could receive the Torah. On this basis, Avraham and the Avot could therefore be said to be 'assisting God' in fulfilling His purpose of creation. This idea appears to be expressed in a midrash which refers to Avraham becoming a "partner with God in creating the world", since his spreading of God's word allowed for the realisation of God's objective of a nation to accept and observe His Torah.

“My Name was not known among My creations and you caused it to become known. I will consider you to be a partner with Me in the creation of the world”. [Bereishit Rabbah 43:7]

This partnership was formalised at the berit bein habetarim, where Avraham was promised that the community he was building would be part of an eternal covenant with God in the land of Israel, and would grow to form God's chosen nation. This relationship may represent the loftiest level to which man can aspire, not merely imitating God’s attributes, but positively partnering Him in his project to bestow goodness upon mankind — the highest form of "vehalachta bidrachav" – walking in God’s ways.

Despite their auspicious ancestry, the formation of a chosen nation from the descendants of the Avot was no simple task. R’ Yehudah Halevi writes that a special "hashgachah" or divine guidance was required in order to prepare these descendants for the special mission bequeathed to them through the merits of their forefathers:

“And God guided the children of Yaakov also when they were in Egypt so that they would increase … He was concerned that they be raised until comparable to their ancestors Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov … at that time the whole Israelite nation became fitting to see the divine light within them and for God’s providence to be revealed within them.” [Kuzari 1:95]

The notion that the Avot merited for special providence to guide the fate on the nation that would be formed from their descendants is also mentioned by Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim (3:51).

The nature and strength of this hashgachah related directly to the extent and nature of Avraham’s merits. Midrashim describe how the nature and strength of this hashgachah was directly commensurate to the extent of the merits of Avraham and the Avot:

“Rava said: In the merit of Avraham stating: “I am but dust and ashes” his descendants merited two commandments: the ash of the red heifer and the dust of Sotah … In the merit of Avraham stating: “From a thread to a shoelace [I shall not take from the plunder]” his descendants merited two commandments: the thread of blue [tzitzit] and the strap of tefillin.”

The second pair of commandments may be of particular significance, as Rambam teaches that tzitzit and tefillin are among mitzvot which attract a high level of hashgachah.

Conversely:

“For what reason was Avraham punished by his descendants being enslaved in Egypt for 210 years? ... Shmuel said it was because he doubted God’s ways [His promise of the land of Israel] as it says “And how will I know that I will inherit it?”

This second source makes it clear that any minor fault or seemingly trivial detail of the Avot's conduct could have major repercussions for the emerging nation's spiritual preparedness and fortunes.

The severe potential consequences of any ancestral misstep can help to shed light on the fraught episodes in the book of Bereishit. In Avraham’s own household we find that Sarah insists on driving away Yishmael, whose conduct in her assessment does not befit his being a ‘building block’ of the chosen people. The matter was “exceedingly evil in the eyes of Avraham”, who may well have assumed that Yishmael and Yitzchak could share the burden and responsibility of continuing his divine covenant.

National hashgachah is also dictated by the conduct of the matriarchs as is indicated by the intricate process of finding a suitable wife for Yitzchak, and further in the vivid midrashic accounts of Rachel’s merit protecting her descendants.

It is in this context that we can understand the intensity of the struggle between Ya'akov and Eisav for control of the foundations of the future nation. If Eisav were to provide the building blocks of the nascent Jewish people, his undesirable conduct would be liable to limit the positive effect of the combined merits of the Avot. This in turn would inhibit the spiritual guidance and development available to the chosen people. It was therefore crucial for Ya’akov to be the sole recipient of his father’s blessings which made their recipient, in the words of Abarbanel “part of the covenant with Avraham, designated for providential guidance”. A similar dynamic dictated the struggle between Yosef and his brothers; Yosef viewing himself as the primary (and perhaps exclusive) recipient of the Abrahamic mission and his brothers seeing his ambitions as illegitimate and requiring a strong response.

First posted on Facebook 20 November 2022, here.

Anachronistic Avot and time-travelling Talmudists

One burgeoning genre of divrei Torah which appears to be enjoying increasing popularity in recent years perceives revered biblical figures – typically the Avot – as having been bound by Biblical and Talmudic law, and then proposes ingenious resolutions as to why certain laws appear not to have been fully observed. This style of dvar Torah, which allows brilliant yeshiva students to draw upon their well-honed Talmudic reasoning even when studying the written Torah, can be traced back to a verse in yesterday’s reading:

“Because Abraham listened to My voice, and kept My charge, My mitzvot, My chukkot, and My Torot."

How are we to understand the meaning of mitzvot, chukkot and Torot?

Rashi, drawing on an aggadic passage, suggests that this means that Avraham observed – presumably with the aid of prophecy – not only the Torah’s Biblical commandments, but even later Rabbinic restrictions such as Eruv Tavshilin. The primacy accorded to Rashi in Torah interpretation has led to this position being viewed as mainstream or even unanimous. At a recent event I heard a learned rabbi introducing his dvar Torah with the words: “Everyone know that the Avos kept the whole Torah…”. He proceeded to examine how Avraham could have married Hagar, an Egyptian princess, despite the Torah’s later prohibition against such a relationship (perhaps, he suggested, Avraham had the status of a convert and was therefore not bound by this rule).

While this approach is certainly pursued by a number of commentators and has caught the popular imagination in recent times, it was not always seen as so mainstream. While the above speaker was confident that “everyone knows the Avos kept the whole Torah”, there was a time when this was quite openly disputed. A quick survey of traditional commentaries to this verse shows that Sforno, Chizkuni, Rashbam – and even Ramban in his “derech hapeshat” – all interpreted these terms to refer only to commandments and character traits which had been revealed to Avraham up until this point. Radak goes further, showing how the aggadic source which Rashi draws upon does not mean that Avraham observed all Rabbinic and Biblical ordinances which would only be legislated (and bear relevance) millennia later. Rather it teaches that Avraham acted strictly and set careful boundaries within those specific laws which he did observe.

This in turn leads us to more profound underlying questions, which are explored in Judaism Reclaimed and Talmud Reclaimed: What function and benefit might there be in the observance of various forms of mitzvot which had not yet been commanded – particularly observances which were only later commanded to commemorate national events which had not yet taken place (for example the Avot were said to have eaten matzot on Pesach). And how many of these finer details of Talmudic law are understood to have been transmitted from Sinai and which are likely to have been developed by later Sanhedrin-type courts? (see further www.TalmudReclaimed.com).

One style of Aggadah which would seem to bolster this genre of apparently anachronistic divrei Torah involves later Talmudic attempts to recast biblical episodes as relating to delicate details of Talmudic debate. In its chapter on Aggadah, Talmud Reclaimed cites a passage from Sanhedrin 19b which interprets an episode from the book of Shmuel as a prime example.

The subject of this passage is a promise made by Shaul to give his daughter, Michal, in marriage to David for the price of 100 Philistine foreskins. Shaul subsequently reneges on his promise, while David continues to demand that Shaul permit him to marry Michal. While the biblical storyline appears to revolve around palace intrigue, alliances and jealousies, the Talmud rereads it entirely as an intricate legal debate as to whether marriage can be formalized through forgiveness of a loan in combination with the provision of an object of some value.

After highlighting a number of other similar Aggadic accounts, Rabbi Yisrael Moshe Hazan (Iyyei HaYam #187) argues that such Aggadic traditions date back to an era when the Oral Tradition was not generally written down. Attaching intricate legal rulings and debates to popular biblical passages served therefore as a memory aid to recall these complex Talmudic principles.

It is striking that for many this situation is now turned on its head, with Talmudic scholars often only acquainted with biblical passages and verses that are cited in Talmudic discourse – along with the accompanying Aggadic interpretation.

First posted on Facebook 19 November 2023, here.