Vayechi: Lishmah and the pursuit of genuine religiosity

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed relating to parashat Vayechi builds upon the midrashic interpretation of Ya'akov's words “Perform for me kindness and truth, do not bury me in Egypt”. Midrash Rabbah, quoted by Rashi, explains: “kindness that is done with the dead is true kindness, for one does not expect any payment or reward”.

The political context surrounding Ya’akov’s instructions to Yosef on his deathbed deeply exacerbated the degree of “kindness” involved. Ya’akov knew that this request would be highly unpopular with his family, which was already looking to integrate into Egyptian society and seeking to demonstrate loyalty to its hosts. In his Meshech Chochmah, Rav Meir Simchah of Dvinsk comments that it was precisely for this reason that Ya’akov felt the need to burden his sons with the task of carrying his body out of Egypt—so that neither their initial desire to integrate nor the subsequent years of exile and servitude would cause them to lose sight of their destiny of reaching the promised land.

The Midrash’s focus on the motive for an act of kindness forms part of a greater emphasis in Judaism on the thoughts which accompany good deeds. In his Introduction to Chelek, Rambam cites a number of teachings from the Sages which require mitzvot to be performed “lishmah” out of love for God – understood by Rambam to consist of a strong intellectual appreciation of the inherent value and truth of the Torah and its commandments. Recognising that this level of religious functioning is difficult to understand, let alone achieve, Rambam describes how the Sages not merely permitted but required the study of Torah and fulfilment of mitzvot even when they are motivated by heavenly reward and punishment. This concession was premised upon the understanding that such engagement with Torah and mitzvot could lead people to an appreciation of their inherent worth, and with it, a purer motive. Rambam’s understanding of the concept of lishmah, representing service of God through intellectual love, is contrasted with the approach of Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler (possibly based on Ra’avad), who understands lishmah to consist of serving God with enthusiasm.

Our chapter moves on to consider why Rambam places so much importance on the motive for performing a mitzvah (from the final chapter of Hilchot Teshuvah it appears to be considered the pinnacle of religious achievement). One of the approaches that we suggest examines this question from the point of view of halachta bidrachav – walking in God’s ways. We analyse passages of Moreh Nevuchim which address God’s potential motives for creating the world before concluding that, while we can recognise that creation benefits humanity, it cannot be stated that creation in any way enhances or rectifies a need of God. God’s creation of the world could thus be viewed as the ultimate chessed shel emet – kindness without the possibility of any payment or reward. A person who achieves the level of lishmah may thus represent the most elevated embodiment of walking in God’s ways – a proposition which appears to find support in the Moreh’s closing paragraphs.

The chapter closes with a summary of Rambam’s sobering analysis of the shallow, unthinking religion-by-rote which, it appears, plagued Judaism in his day no less than in ours. Rambam starts by describing a child whose Torah teacher provides sweets and treats as a form of bribery in order to attract the interest of his young student. While the child may learn and succeed in his studies, his motivation is far removed from the profound truths of the Torah, being premised solely upon receipt of the confectionery that is dangled before him. As this child grows and matures, his tastes become more sophisticated, and the sweets and treats are gradually replaced by monetary prizes. Eventually, as an adult, this child may have now attained a degree of wisdom, but his motivation will be to attract a desirable marriage offer, gain renown, or receive a position of prestige. Ultimately, Rambam teaches, escape from the clutches of the jealousy, lust, and honour-seeking which naturally govern a person’s interactions with the world can only be achieved through genuine recognition and appreciation of the value and truth inherent in one’s religious pursuits.

First posted to Facebook 9 January 2020, here.

Censuses, inconsistencies and traditional responses

Over the past couple of years, this forum has regularly featured posts which seek to highlight the speculative methodologies which can be found within some academic source-criticism of the Torah. In a recent comment thread Micha Berger suggested that we should place greater emphasis on showing the “beauty and internal integrity” of the traditional understanding of a Torah revealed in its entirely by God.

The parashah of Bemidbar provides a perfect opportunity to exhibit such an example – an apparent textual inconsistency and idiosyncrasy which contains an exquisite and profound principle. An early chapter of Judaism Reclaimed notes how, in the census of parashat Bemidbar, we find that Ephraim is listed before Menashe when the population of the tribes is enumerated. At the end of the 40 years in the wilderness however, when a new census is recorded in parashat Pinchas, Menashe is now listed ahead of Ephraim.

This is precisely the sort of inconsistency which typically serves as a foundation for biblical scholars to concoct theories of multiple authorship of the Torah – with diverging passages attributed to authors with different goals and priorities. It is instructive, therefore, to witness how the Netziv (Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehudah Berlin) addresses this phenomenon in his Ha’amek Davar commentary to the Torah.

The inconsistent presentation of the tribes in the book of Bemidbar, argues Netziv, can only be explained through a profound understanding of an earlier passage in the Torah – in which Ephraim and Menashe are presented to the elderly Ya’akov for a blessing:

“And Joseph took them both, Ephraim at his right, from Israel's left, and Manasseh at his left, from Israel's right, and he brought [them] near to him. But Israel stretched out his right hand and placed [it] on Ephraim's head, although he was the younger, and his left hand [he placed] on Manasseh's head. He guided his hands deliberately, for Manasseh was the firstborn” [Bereishit 48]

Netziv addresses the strange manner in which Ya’akov imparted his blessings to Ephraim and Menashe. While Menashe was the firstborn and therefore the expected recipient of the primary blessing (represented here by Ya’akov’s right hand), Ya’akov repeatedly rejected Yosef’s advice, and switched his hands so that Ephraim, standing on the left, would receive the primary blessing signified by the right hand. Why, asks Netziv, did Ya’akov not simply rearrange his grandsons so that Ephraim would stand on the right, rather than crossing his hands over? The text appears to attribute the change of hands to the fact that Menashe was older (“he [Ya’akov”] switched his hands, for Menashe was the firstborn”), but this is perplexing – the whole purpose of the exercise appears to be to elevate Ephraim above Menashe despite the firstborn status.

According to Netziv, the subtle symbolism adopted by Ya’akov while giving the blessings represents a profound division of roles and responsibilities between Ephraim and Menashe. Ephraim did indeed receive Ya’akov’s right hand upon his head, but this implied that he was being awarded seniority and leadership only for spiritual endeavours (represented by the head, home of the intellect). For matters pertaining to worldly pursuits however, Menashe would retain primacy and his firstborn status would be unaffected.

Indeed, according to the midrashic tradition, Menashe assisted Yosef in his governmental duties. Not only did Menashe act as an interpreter for Yosef (Bereishit Rabbah 91:8), but he was also the messenger when Yosef sent after his brothers to accuse Binyamin (falsely) of stealing Joseph’s favourite cup” (ibid 84:20). Ephraim, on the other hand, is depicted in the Midrash as a man who shared his grandfather Ya’akov’s temperament — quiet and studious. According to the Midrash Tanchuma (Vayechi 6), it was Ephraim who reported Ya’akov’s illness to Yosef because he regularly studied with Ya’akov.

This division of roles, which traces back to Ya’akov’s blessing, can be used to explain the strange inconsistency in order of the Tribes between Bemidbarand Pinchas. The census of parashat Bemidbar takes place with the Jews living in an intensely spiritual and miraculous environment, which featured the daily manna and Miriam’s well. A special cocoon in which they are supposed to absorb quickly the teachings of the Torah and learn how to become a nation of God. In such a spiritual mode of existence it was most relevant to list Ephraim, the ‘spiritual firstborn’, before Menashe. At the end of the book of Bemidbar by contrast, the Jewish people are preparing to leave this miraculous existence and re-enter the realm of standard physical existence – a project which would require skilful political leadership and practical application. The census which was taken in preparation for this entry in the Land of Israel therefore placed Menashe, the ‘natural firstborn’, before Ephraim.

Far from indicating different authors, this inconsistency discloses a dynamic which underpins the sons of Yosef and their roles from the book of Bereishit through until the nation’s entry in the land of Israel.

First posted to Facebook 29 May 2022, here.