Biblical criticism and far-fetched conspiracy theories

By Nissim Bellahsen and Shmuli Phillips

In recent years, this group has featured a number of critiques and discussions of biblical criticism, contrasting the approaches taken by traditional and academic scholars to explaining apparent idiosyncrasies within the Torah’s text. On some occasions, however, we take a step back and gasp at how this academic field is able to produce such a steady supply of far-fetched theories based on shoddy scholarship and speculative assessments. More often than not, these posts are to be found on a particular website which promotes “Torah and Biblical Scholarship”.

We examine here another example of such a phenomenon (link below), an article by Prof. Rabbi David Frankel, from the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem, which relates to last week’s parashah. The article proposes that many of the narratives in the book of Bereishit concerning the patriarch Yitzchak initially belonged to an independent extra-biblical source. According to Frankel's theory, it is not clear that the "oldest Isaac traditions" consider him to be the son of Avraham at all. While the final form of the Torah continually asserts this genealogical connection, the early traditions of Genesis 26, Frankel argues, provide no indication that Yitzchak was the son of Abraham. Rather, he continues, Yitzchak was an independent figure whose life events were copied by the Torah into Avraham’s narratives – a process which explains a number of commonalities between their life stories.

Working back from this conclusion, Frankel utilises several tools in order to distinguish what he believes to be the “early traditions of Genesis 26” from the Torah as we have it today. Wielding the critics’ notorious scalpel Frankel highlights the fact that, once we conveniently cut out all of the repeated references to Avraham and God, Genesis 26 now represents an independent account of Yitzchak’s life stories. In support of his theory, he notes that the Yitzchak narrative of Genesis 26 can still be read as a cohesive narrative once these inconvenient verses have been excised. Such an argument however is demonstrably flawed.

Tolkien enthusiasts will recall the curious character of Tom Bombadil, whose narrative is so tangential to the primary theme that it was omitted from radio and cinema reproductions of The Lord of the Rings. While Bombadil makes an occasional appearance in earlier Tolkien writings and the Lord of the Rings plot indeed reads quite fluently without him, what would we make of a literary critic who suggested on this basis that his was a later story implanted into Tolkien’s trilogy by a later independent redactor?

Additional evidence is presented by Frankel in support of his theory that the Yitzchak passage was originally an older, independent source. He notes a series of apparently unexpected similarities between Yitzchak’s experience in Gerar and that of Avraham in parashat Vayeira – arguing that it is illogical for Avimelech to have ignored his prior encounter with Avraham when engaging subsequently with Yitzchak.

Such an argument, however, reveals an alarming methodological flaw which undercuts many of the conclusions that Frankel then seeks to propose. While it is true that “in the context of Genesis” Avraham’s adventures in Gerar appear “only a few chapters earlier”, a simple calculation based on the text itself shows that over 70 years separate these events from Yitzchak’s later travels (Yitzchak was not yet born when Avraham visited Gerar but was over 70 years old when he journeyed there himself). Viewed in this chronological context, it appears unlikely – as Radak points out – that Avimelech is the same Philistine king who interacted with Avraham 75 years earlier. Rather Avimelech is a title used to refer to all Philistine kings (see e.g. Tehillim 34:1), much like Pharaoh was a general title borne by all ancient Egyptian monarchs. Furthermore, as Radak also points out, Yitzchak had not been seen in these parts during the intervening 75 years having seemingly divided his time between Chevron and the mysterious Be’er Lacha’i Ro’i. It is thus far from obvious from a plain reading of the text that Avimelech’s successor and his fellow Gerarites would have automatically associated the reclusive Yitzchak with his well-known, missionising father.

Returning to the somewhat similar challenges which Avraham and Yitzchak encounter on their travels, we are entitled to ask how unexpected some of these phenomena really are. If we can transport ourselves back to the lawless ancient world of Canaan and Egypt, where the kings enjoyed absolute power and “there was no fear of God”, should we be surprised that unprotected beautiful female travellers should attract unwelcome attention from local rulers? Even a millennia later, Achashverosh is considered within his rights to hoover up all the beautiful girls of the kingdom for his own purposes, while the Torah attempts to limit such behaviour by commanding that Israelite kings “do not amass an excess of wives”. In places of depravity and corruption such as Sodom men too could be in danger, as well as those like Lot who sought to protect strangers from harm. The dangers faced by vulnerable travellers in the Ancient Near East are graphically depicted in the appalling episode of Pilegesh Begiveah in the book of Shofetim. We can speculate therefore that our forefathers’ requests to conceal the true nature of their marital relationships may have been no more remarkable than a modern-day middle eastern traveller requesting that his wife lie about carrying gifts for others in order to avoid unwanted scrutiny at the ELAL security check.

Far more serious flaws, however, plague some of the basic premises upon which Frankel’s theory is constructed. Frankel is quick to pronounce Yitzchak’s involvement in the book of Bereishit as unimportant to the overall narrative and therefore a likely later addition. He is of course entitled to his own assessments, but other readers of Bereishit may note not only that Yitzchak’s birth and early years are central to the narrative of Avraham, but also the important role Yitzchak appears to play as a pivot between the extrovert Avraham and the more measured and complex figure of Ya’akov.

Frankel’s proposals also bear significant ramifications for references to God’s covenant with Yitzchak in other areas of the Torah. In his eagerness to demonstrate that Yitzchak’s story can be disentangled from the story of Bereishit, does Frankel stop to consider the implications of hastily excising God’s promises to Yitzchak from the authentic text of the Torah? Once all mention of such revelations have been summarily deleted from Genesis 26, readers are likely to be confused by later passages (Shemot 32:13, 33:1; Devarim 9:5, 34:4) which claim that the land of Israel was promised to Yitzchak as well as broader explicit references to a prior covenant with Yitzchak (Vayikra 26:42, Devarim 29:12).

Are we to assume that all of these verses were also silently devised and seamlessly implanted within the biblical text by our heavily-overworked redactor? Must they now also fall victim to Frankel’s voracious scalpel? We leave our readers to judge whether Frankel’s theory represents a superior and more convincing rendering of the biblical narrative than what can be achieved from simply taking the Torah’s text at face value.

Frankel's article here.

First posted to Facebook 30 November 2022, here.

Biblical births and a misinformed academic critique

Students and scholars seeking to gain a deeper understanding of biblical texts will often turn to the plethora of articles and books on the Tanach written by academics that attempt to present more informed insights into the meaning and intentions behind scripture. Unfortunately, closer analysis often reveals that these scholars are advocating various grandiose theories built on speculation and flimsy evidence. Questionable interpretations will often be seized upon and counter-indications dismissed or ignored in order to prove whatever pre-determined idea or theory they have chosen to focus on.

In this week's portion of Vayeshev, we read about the birth of Judah and Tamar's two sons, Peretz and Zerach. The Torah describes how Zerach's hand emerges first from the womb and how the midwife ties a crimson string around his finger indicating he is the firstborn. The hand then retracts and Peretz is born first.

In an article for thetorah.com [1], Dr. Eran Viezel claims that such a birth is medically impossible without killing one or both of the twins. He similarly claims that the Torah’s recorded description of Jacob and Esau’s birth is scientifically impossible. Viezel concludes condescendingly:

Biblical narratives were written by men or mostly by men, and in ancient Israel, as was the case in most places until recently, men were not present at childbirth, due in part to, the view that childbirth generated impurity...

Based on research undertaken by various (medically qualified) members of this group, we will endeavour to demonstrate that the author’s claims are rejected by the available medical knowledge.

Viezel introduces his article by asserting confidently that:

Twins cannot switch places mid birth. They do not come out of the uterus together nor are they both in the birth canal at the same time.

However medical research has firmly rejected Viezel’s statement. An important review of births of twins facing in the opposite directions revealed that a majority of cases where one twin had his or her hand out of the birth canal, the other twin was born first [2]. This suggests not only that twins are able to switch positions during the birthing process, but also that there was nothing unusual about Zerach being born after Peretz.

In a connected article he claims further,

There is no evidence at all of babies exiting the womb with their arms outstretched. Yet biblical accounts of childbirth contain explicit and implicit descriptions of the hand as the first limb to emerge from the womb.

Once again, Viezel’s assertion is contrary to scientific findings. While the hand emerging first is rare, medical records dating back to the 17thcentury have recorded the occurrence and survival rates of such births. According to the Oxford Textbook of Obstetric Anesthesia, when the hand emerges first, the baby is considered to have a compound presentation. Viezel does mention compound presentation in his footnotes but states that it results in the fetus breaking its neck as it exits the birth canal and therefore does not produce a good survival rate.

Medical research has found this claim to be wholly untrue. While the death rate is higher for compound presentations with twins, it is not significantly higher than regular twin births, which have a seven to ten-fold higher mortality than single births. So, while the chance of death is higher, the baby's living is still statistically a more likely outcome [3]. It is also worth noting that case studies from midwives show successful deliveries in very similar circumstances without medical intervention. [4]

Moving on to Dr. Viezel’s claims concerning the unusual twin-birth of Jacob and Esau, Professor John Makujina has concluded that:

The abnormalities in this birth, then, amount first to the early rupturing of Jacob's membranes, which would enable him to grasp the ankle of his brother. The second anomaly would be the almost simultaneous births of the two brothers, with the added complication of Jacob grasping his brother's ankle – anomaly number three. Interestingly, conditions that would facilitate or increase the likelihood of the last anomaly are themselves quite normal: the intrauterine position of the twins and the grasp reflex. In any case, the first two abnormalities are hardly unprecedented, and the third (grabbing the ankle), though unprecedented, is certainly conceivable.

Makujina concludes:

Given that bizarre events such as this occur outside the world of Genesis, Viezel is in no position to discredit the remarkable elements in the births of Jacob and Esau as the inventions of an obstetrically benighted male author. [5]

What follows in Viezel's article is a series of speculative claims that are built upon the initial incorrect facts examined above. For example, Viezel writes:

Perhaps this image is related to the idea that the womb is depicted metaphorically as a door, and doors are opened with hands. The use of a door as a metaphor for the womb is found most clearly in Job 3, where Job curses the day he was born:

Job 3:10 “Because it did not block the door of my [mother’s] womb…”

Not only is this a huge assumption based on a single verse, but it also ignores the fact that Job 41:14 also describes the mouth as a door. “Who will open the doors of his face? Around his teeth is terror."

Are we to say that the doors of the mouth also require a hand? Or could it be simply that the author of Job chose to use a door as a metaphor for parts of the body that have openings?

Viezel further postulates,

Biblical narratives were written by men or mostly by men, and in ancient Israel, as was the case in most places until recently, men were not present at childbirth," due in part to, "the view that childbirth generated impurity...the father is not present at the birth, but rather awaits word from a messenger, as reflected in Jeremiah 20:15: “Cursed is the man who brought my father the news, saying: A boy is born to you."

Does the fact that the few recorded biblical births refer solely to female midwives, combined with this one verse in Jeremiah really justify the forceful conclusion that "men were not present at childbirth"? Does the possibility of a relatively minor risk of impurity for a man mean men were never present during deliveries? This claim is possible, but by no means definitive given the very limited evidence we have regarding ancient Israelite birthing practices. Viezel’s theory also relies on the assumption that the hypothetical male authors would not have discovered any details of childbirth from midwives or other women.

Finally, Viezel concludes,

In standard births of cows, sheep, and goats, as well as horses, camels, and donkeys, the hooves (the tips of the forelegs) are the first parts of the body to emerge from the womb.

Viezel assumes that men's only experience with birth involved these animals, and thus any male writing about childbirth would have assumed that human babies emerge hands first as well. Of course, given all the above, this is speculative and based on very weak evidence and questionable readings of biblical verses.

Unfortunately, this sort of speculation is rather common in the world of biblical studies, where academics strike a confident tone and create the impression they are almost certainly correct, even when their ideas are poorly supported by available evidence. Websites which seek to publish such articles must take greater care to examine carefully the evidence being offered to support biblical theories. Weak speculation, while sometimes eye-catching and superficially enjoyable, is a poor substitute for true scholarly analysis.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

[1] https://www.thetorah.com/.../why-does-the-torah-describe...

[2] Weissberg S, O’Leary J. Compound Presentation of the Fetus. Obstetrics and Gynecology. 1973;41(1):60-64.

[3] Clark V, Van M, Fernando R. Oxford Textbook of Obstetric Anaesthesia. Oxford University Press; 2016

[4] https://www.midwifery.org.uk/.../hand-presentation.../

[5] John Makujina, “Male Obstetric Competence in Ancient Israel: A Response to Two Recent Proposals”, VT 66.1 (2016): 78-94.

First posted to Facebook 6 December 2020, here.

Such stuff as dreams are made on

The nature, meaning and implications of dreams feature heavily in the narrative of Yosef, foretelling his eventual dominance over his brothers and also providing the means for his rise to power in Egypt.

As Judaism Reclaimed examines, it appears from various commentaries that there are three distinct categories of dreams. First there are regular 'frivolous' dreams, which are a synthesis of the mind's images and ideas drawn from the dreamer’s previous conscious states. Then there are 'chalomot tzodekot', meaningful dreams such as those which were divinely inspired in Yosef's story. Finally, there are dreams that contain prophecy and which are treated as an entirely different order of experience.

In his Ohr Hachaim commentary, R’ Chaim ibn Attar explains that a 'meaningful dream', which is typically indicated in the Torah by use of the word "vehineh" (and look!), consists of an extremely vivid and lucid dream-experience. In addition, it must be unambiguously clear to this dreamer that there exists a deeper, hidden meaning which he will instantly recognise as correct the moment it is presented to him. This mechanism of instant recognition is seen in the responses of Pharaoh and his servants to Yosef's proposed interpretations in our parashah, with the dreamers, profoundly disturbed by their experiences, enthusiastically embracing the correct resolution as soon as it is offered.

This distinction between frivolous and meaningful dreams is highlighted in a fascinating explanation by the Netziv of the behaviour of Yosef's brothers in response to his dreams. The brothers initially respond with hatred to what they assume to be 'frivolous’ dreams, reflections of the delusions of grandeur which they believed Yosef to have been harbouring during his waking hours. However, their father Ya'akov takes the dreams seriously: an indication that they are divinely inspired. At this point the brothers’ hatred (“vayisne’u”) gives way to jealousy ("vayekanu") as they are forced to concede Yosef's superiority but nonetheless struggle to come to terms with it.

The special dreams which feature throughout Yosef's story are divinely-inspired experiences, which generate a feeling of certainty that the dream is true and requires an explanation. Pharaoh’s dreams concerning the cows and ears of grain seemed to require the input of considerable wisdom and understanding in order to unlock their interpretation. In a fascinating video (linked in the comment), Rabbi David Fohrman of the Alphabeta website offers an outstanding insight into how Yosef might have deduced the meaning of these dreams.

Rabbi Fohrman points out that the Torah’s description of Yosef in this passage is both a linguistic and thematic echo of an earlier stage of his life. While his early years had seen him being stripped of his special garment and separated from a great person by being cast into a pit [bor] on account of his dreams, the start of Miketz uses similar language to describe Yosef being taken out of a bor, given respectable clothing and taken to the king on account of Pharaoh’s dreams.

When we look at the content of the dreams themselves, the parallels to Yosef’s life become even more chilling. Focusing on the dream of the cows, Rabbi Fohrman notes the loaded terms used to describe the contrasting appearance of the two sets: yefot mar’eh (beautiful form) and dakot (thin/weak). These terms, he argues, evoke earlier biblical descriptions of the matriarchs Rachel and Leah respectively; the grazing of these siblings together (vatir’ena ba’achu – see Onkelos) recalls Yosef, son of Rachel, grazing his sheep together with the children of Leah at the start of last week’s parashah. When the weak “Leah” cows swallow the beautiful healthy “Rachel” cows, Yosef understands that this first dream parallels his own life experience – in which he was “swallowed” and disappeared by Leah’s sons in a perfect crime. But could this parallel to his own life help him understand the divine message that he was to convey to Pharoah concerning the fate of Egypt?

Crucial here is Yosef’s insight: “The seven good cows are seven years, and the seven good ears of grain are seven years; it is one dream. And the seven meager and ugly cows coming up after them are seven years, and the seven empty ears of grain, beaten by the east wind, will be seven years of famine.” (41:26-27)

The very first contribution of Rachel and Leah to the biblical narrative comes in the form of two sets of seven-years that Ya’akov was made to work for their hands in marriage. Once Yosef had been inspired to understand their significance in the cow dream, he was able to use this key to unlock the second dream concerning grain and convey its relevance to Egypt’s upcoming years of plenty and famine. In terms of its basic key it was, after all, “one dream”.

Rabbi Fohrman concludes with a question to his audience: while we recognise that we live an era devoid of prophecy and open miracles, might God still be offering us guidance and inspiration through our life experiences? If so, are we sufficiently attuned and perceptive to be aware of an interpret this?

First posted on Facebook 18 December 2022, here.

Religion and culture: not throwing the Greeks out with the bathwater

While Chanukah correctly commemorates the miraculous battlefield exploits of the outnumbered Maccabeans, our tradition also emphasises the ideological dynamics which underpinned this military victory. Unlike most other peoples swallowed up by the rapacious Greek-Hellenist Empire, the Jews found themselves on the wrong end of severe religious prohibitions. The Book of Maccabees details how the Syrian-Greek monarch, Antiochus, criminalized the observance of circumcision, Shabbat and holidays, dietary laws, and many other practices. He also placed an idol in the Jewish Temple so “that they [the Jews] might forget the Law and change all their religious ordinances”.

While this ideological clash between Jews and Hellenists has been seized on by some commentators who perceive an eternal struggle between Judaism and “secular culture”, Judaism Reclaimed develops Rabbi S. R. Hirsch’s thoughtful and nuanced explanation of the ideal interplay between religion and culture, and how this was not realised in the Hellenist-Chanukah era.

R' Hirsch’s builds his account upon an early passage of the Torah. Shortly after the floodwaters have subsided, Noach embarks upon a session of heavy drinking which leaves him lying exposed, provoking contrasting reactions from his sons Shem, Cham and Yafet. While Cham mocks – and according to some midrashim abuses – his helpless father, Yafet allows himself to be guided by Shem to recover their father’s dignity. Noach wakes (and presumably sobers) up and pronounces “the most profound and far-reaching vision of the future that God ever permitted a mortal to behold or utter”.

“Cursed be Canaan, may he be a servant of servants to his brothers… Blessed be God the God of Shem...God will broaden/open up [through] Yafet and he should dwell in the tents of Shem...”

While this passage has sometimes been approached – by Jewish and Christian commentaries alike – as foretelling and even justifying African slavery, Ibn Ezra strongly opposed this interpretation. How do these commentaries, he writes, ignore the fact that the first line of powerful kings after the Flood, including the fearsome and powerful Nimrod, were descendants of Cham?

This paves the way for R Hirsch’s approach which understands that Noach’s words concerning his sons represent three distinct ideologies and traits which individuals – and even nations – can display. These verses contain Noach’s fervent wish and guidance to the various nations which would descend from his sons as to how their national traits can be channelled toward spiritual accomplishment:

Cham (literally “hot”) represents the height of unrestrained “burning” physical power and desire which respects neither spiritual nor intellectual values. As a result, those possessing such a personality descend into a form of slavery, unable to free themselves from their desires and primal passion.

Yafet (literally “beauty” (yofi) or “openness” - liftoach) connotes the ability of emotion to make one “open” or appreciative of external impressions and influences. Yafet’s culture, seen most strongly with the Greeks, embodies the ability of the arts to elevate and uplift raw physicality.

Shem (literally “name”) represents intellectual clarity and the potential connection to God that this brings (“God of Shem”). The ability to assign a name to something indicates a clear perception of its inner nature and function. When Adam, in Gan Eden, names the animals it is not a matter of simple convenience to distinguish between various species of wildlife. But is seen by many commentaries as representing a profound understanding of their nature and essence. A form of wisdom which transcends the physical world.

It is crucial to note that R’ Hirsch understands Noach’s words to his sons be referring to traits and ideologies rather than strict biological descent. So, for example, while the cultured Germans of the 19th century would have been viewed by R Hirsch as prime embodiments of Yafet, their 20th century murderous descendants were unquestionably a powerful expression of Cham.

Noach’s prophecy was uttered at the dawn of civilization. Surveying human history in the last 4,000 years we can trace, in retrospect, the influence of these three forces through the development of humanity. To summarize Rav Hirsch’s theory, many nations have risen and fallen throughout human history, their only contribution being their attempts to control the world by harnessing human ability and potential to the goal of destruction, exploitation, and domination of others. The whole aspiration of such nations of “Cham” is power, brute force, tyranny, coupled with a submission to their own basic urges.

But there are other nations that devote their energies more to beauty, art, and aesthetics. Those cultures which have represented or been primarily influenced by the characteristics of “Yafet” recognize that there is a higher ideal to which mankind must ascend, valuing beauty and elegance over raw physicality. The trait of Yafet must play a crucial role in refining the physicality of Cham, using art and aesthetics to develop an acceptance and eventually an appreciation of more transcendent concepts. Once people have become aware of and able to appreciate matters which lie above raw physicality they can then be led towards the more spiritual message and truths of “Shem”.

According to R’ Hirsch, the intellectual and moral clarity of Shem demonstrates that Yafet’s glorification of pleasure and satisfaction through beauty, culture and refinement should not be humanity’s highest aspiration. Instead, there must be a more noble ideal — a recognition of what is inherently good and true. Such truths are provided by the intellectual and spiritual clarity of “Shem,” who embodies the teachings and values of the “God of Shem”.

Shem teaches God’s views of the world and humanity. How humans are created in God’s image, and must be guided and elevated by God’s wisdom and teachings. This in contrast to the Greek approach in which humans build gods in their own image by deifying their own flawed ideas of beauty, strength and wisdom.

It is an important feature of R’ Hirsch’s approach that the traits and ideologies of Yafet are viewed neither as inherently good nor inherently harmful. The art and aesthetics are a powerful tool which, when used correctly, can enhance the religious truths of Shem and enable them to be more easily understood. In such a scenario – as with Noach’s sons – Yafet is allowing himself to be guided by Shem subjecting himself to the influence and teachings of Shem.

Rav Hirsch traces these ideas through early human history until the era of the Greeks. He uses this to shed further light on the greater significance of the Chanukah story and its ideological dimension.

Yafet’s ability to open people’s minds and make them appreciative of greater ideas can be used positively in the service of the truths of Shem. In the era of the Chanukah story however, the aesthetic and artistic aspects of Yafet were being allied to a Cham-like imperial and tyrannical war machine which sought to control and impose itself violently on the truths of Shem. Once the ideology and traits of Yafet are no longer submitting themselves to the guidance of Shem’s truths and teachings they lose their legitimacy and, particularly when combined with the violence of Cham, can become a dangerous threat to Judaism.

This is why – despite Noach’s indication that Yafet has a lot of positives to offer humanity – the Jews and Hellenists faced off in a bitter ideological struggle. When Yafet is not prepared to reside and be guided by the truths of Shem. When human-created conceptions of culture and refinement are seen as an ultimate goal for humanity as with the Hellenistic transformation of human characteristics into godly attributes. This puts Yafet and so-called “secular culture” on a collision course with the truths of the God of Shem which teach God’s perspective and thoughts of mankind, morality and human endeavour.

Judaism Reclaimed develops these ideas in a more modern context with the 20th century phenomena of the cultured tyranny of Nazi Germany (Cham and Yafet) and the Religious tyranny of Islamic State (Cham and Shem).

First posted to Facebook 13 December 2020, here

The stop-start status of pre-Sinaitic statutes

As we traverse the book of Bereishit, the subject of our ancestors’ observance of Torah law frequently surfaces. For many of us, our Judaism is so dominated by the regimen of halacha that we find it hard to relate to earlier role models who might have legitimately worshipped God in a very different manner. This leads us to embrace literal renderings of midrashim which, for example, depict Avraham and Lot as anachronistically observing the commandment of eating matzot on Pesach – centuries before the Exodus would occur.

The pre-eminent position popularly awarded to Rashi among Torah commentators has led to this being widely regarded as the only – or at least the mainstream – legitimate approach. Patriarchal episodes, such as Ya’akov marrying sisters, which contradict this narrative are typically treated as exceptions for reasons of necessity. It is certainly important, however, to be aware of how other traditional commentators dealt with this matter.

A central verse in this discussion is God’s praise for Avraham having “kept my safeguards, my commandments, my decrees and my instructions” (Bereishit 26:5). Rashi’s commentary to this verse cites a midrashic teaching that Avraham observed not only biblical laws which would later be revealed, but also rabbinic laws instituted to protect the integrity of biblical law.

Radak, by contrast, limits the scope of these teachings – presumably reading them in the context of the reality that none of these laws had yet been revealed and in some cases did not yet bear the symbolic significance that they would later attain. The “commandments and instructions” that Avraham observed, he therefore concludes, can only be referring to the sorts of “sichli” commandments which can be logically deduced. Noting the midrashic teachings that Avraham even observed safeguards such as erev tavshilin, Radak explains that this conveys that Avraham was so meticulous and precise in his observance of the rules which he kept, that he made his own additional regulations which went beyond what was strictly necessary.

Some commandments, however, clearly did pre-date the Sinai revelation. A prohibition against murder is related early in the book of Bereishit, and rabbinic tradition expands this to encompass a whole set of Noachide laws. Specific instructions were also given to the household of Avraham regarding circumcision and, as we read yesterday, to the descendants of Ya’akov concerning consumption of the gid hanashe (sciatic nerve).

It is with regard to gid hanashe that Rambam sets out what he calls a fundamental principle of how to understand these pre-Sinaitic laws. All of the mitzvot, explains Rambam in his Commentary to the Mishna, that we keep today, we do so because they were commanded to Moshe in the desert. Even if these were previously commanded to our ancestors such as circumcision and gid hanashe, this is not the reason that we are bound today. As is noted in that Mishnah (Chullin 7:6) – and further expanded upon in Judaism Reclaimed– the way in which such laws were observed in the pre-Sinai era sometimes varied from how the Torah would ultimately fix them.

While our ancestors seem to have observed at least some of what was to become Torah law, they did so with a degree of flexibility, with the discretion to determine how the law should best be applied to their particular circumstances. Once these commandments were to become a form of National Law at Sinai, however, they needed to be fixed into the framework of a legal system (see Moreh Nevuchim 3:34).

While it appears therefore that the Jews are bound by the Sinai revelation rather than prior prophetic pronouncements, the requirement of non-Jews to observe Noachide laws presumably remains as it was. Rambam, in Hilchot Melachim, writes that Adam HaRishon was commanded in these basic laws of human civilisation – an understanding which makes these laws sufficiently universal for corrupt and evil societies such as Sodom to receive punishment (he also notes that Moshe was subsequently commanded to enforce these laws).

Perhaps the most interesting commandment in this regard is that of circumcision. Rambam writes (Hil. Melachim 10:7) that the descendants of Yishmael and Eisav were not obligated in this since only Yitzchak, who remained loyal to Avraham’s religious and ethical teachings, was commanded with circumcision. This is difficult to reconcile, however, with his next statement:

“Our Sages related that the descendants of Keturah who are the offspring of Avraham that came after Yitzchak and Yishmael are also obligated in circumcision. Since, at present, the descendants of Yishmael have become intermingled with the descendants of Keturah, they are all obligated to be circumcised on the eighth day.”

Does this mean that the children of Keturah did remain loyal to Avraham’s teachings? We do not hear much about the fate of these descendants. And, interestingly, these laws appear to remain operative – at least in theory – based on their pre-Sinaitic instruction.

First posted to Facebook 11 December 2022, here.

Yosef's brothers and the benefits of Hell

The gripping narrative of Yosef and his brothers grows increasingly tense as we move into parashat Vayigash, where the story’s climax sees Yosef reveal his true identity to his confounded and speechless siblings. No less dramatic is some of the midrashic literature which accompanies the passage:

Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria said “Woe to us for the day of judgment! Woe to us for the Day of Rebuke! If Yosef HaTzaddik, who is human, could rebuke his brothers in a way that they could not withstand, The Holy One Blessed be He, who sits in judgment over every single individual, how much more so can no human withstand His rebuke!” [Bereishit Rabbah 93:10-11]

This association between heavenly judgment and people being suddenly and shockingly confronted by their errors and inadequacies has already been established earlier in Bereishit Rabbah; when Yitzchak “trembles very greatly” upon realisation that he has been tricked (and perhaps that he has wrongly evaluated his sons) the midrash teaches that “Gehinnom” entered into the room.

It is important to note that the Hebrew word for rebuke “lehochi’ach”, literally means to prove. In the biblical scenarios under discussion there was no shouting or cursing – there was no need. Circumstances had unfolded in a way that made it unambiguously clear that Yosef’s brothers had profoundly miscalculated. It was very suddenly and clearly demonstrated that they had convinced themselves of a falsehood and been living their lives accordingly for many years.

Yosef’s brothers had believed that Yosef’s dreams were a product of his delusions of grandeur and were indicative of his dangerous intentions to establish himself as a ruler over them. So sure were they of their own conclusions that they were willing to sell into slavery (and at one stage even kill) their younger brother and cause untold suffering to their elderly father. Now after pleading with the Egyptian viceroy to redeem their youngest brother from slavery – and have mercy on their elderly father – this viceroy turns out to be the very brother they sold. Providence had raised him into a position of rulership over them – a position which he used not to harm them but to provide vital supplies in a time of famine.

At that single moment of hochacha, in which their entire value system and apparent truths came crashing down, there was nothing to say. It is this feeling which our sages equate with Gehinnom and the Day of Judgment.

The author of the midrash appears to be making a pointed comment to us. That our lives all contain certain convenient miscalculations and hypocrisy. Sacrifices, for example, that we consider too onerous to make in order to help others – or to further our spiritual development – but which we enthusiastically surmount in order to pursue money or personal pleasure.

This midrashic depiction of Gehinnom and the Day of Judgment as focused on shame has bearing on a fascinating discussion by Nissim of Gerona in Derashot HaRan #10. There Rabbeinu Nissim seeks to analyse the function of punishment generally – and particularly the notion of divine punishment in the afterlife.

Noting the Torah’s prohibitions against taking revenge and bearing a grudge, he understands that the Torah must therefore view such conduct as undesirable. It follows therefore that divine chastisement is only to be visited upon sinners for the purpose (i) of guiding them to improve or (ii) as an example for others to learn from. But how are we to approach the notion of sinners suffering eternal retribution in hellfire?

It would appear that the concept of Gehinnom itself may best be viewed as some kind of shaming and rebuke of sinners in a future era which is awash with knowledge of God (this has been explored at length in a previous post here). Strikingly, Resh Lakish teaches in Nedarim 8a

In the future there will be no Gehinnom, rather God will remove the sun from its sheath; the righteous will be cured by it and the wicked will be judged by it.

On the basis of our suggestion we can now view Gehinnom not as punitive punishment but rather as a temporary period of constructive suffering, through which the sinner is able to achieve Olam Haba.

The total shock felt by Yosef’s brothers at having their errors made unambiguously laid out in front of them is therefore an entirely appropriate and indeed helpful biblical template through which to relate to the idea of Gehinnom – a purposeful purgatory.

First posted on Facebook 25 December 2022, here.