INSIGHT 5767 - #06 THE ANSWER IS...
Eila Ezkara found in the Repetition
of the Yom Kippur Musaf is an extremely moving
prayer that centres on the tragic story of the Ten
Martyrs, ten great sages who died at the hands of the
Romans. The prayer begins with a mockery of justice as
the Roman emperor attempts to justify his barbarous
treatment of these great men by declaring them culpable,
as surrogates, for the criminal behaviour of Yosef’s
brothers in selling Yosef into slavery. It is a mockery
for why should one pay for the sin of another.1
It is a mockery for how can one even think of the sons of
Yaakov in such a denigrating manner. They were great and
holy men, not simple criminals; anyone familiar with the midrashic
presentations on this story and the words of the various
commentators would know the complexity and depth of
consideration in their behaviour. The problem is that
anyone familiar with the actual Torah text would also
know the wayward ease with which one can easily develop
the perception of this Roman emperor.
This challenge of understanding is not an isolated
occurrence. Again and again we find a sense of tension
between the presentation of a story or episode in the
text and the words of the midrash and the
commentaries. The paradox is actually inherent in the
text. We constantly encounter stories of great and holy
people yet, strangely, these stories do not seem to
support this description of their nature; rather they, in
fact, challenge it. Hagar and Yishmael are not only
exiled from their home but are sent into a hostile
environment, by Avraham Avinu and Sarah Imeinu,
with only minimum resources.2 Is this the
behaviour we would expect from the righteous? Nonetheless
this is the nature of numerous stories in the text,
stories that not only do not seem to demonstrate the
saintliness of our founding family but even point to,
what would seem to be, inherent moral weaknesses. In a
similar vein, we can also consider a parallel problem in
connection to the presentation, in the text, of such
individuals as Esav. The midrash clearly
enunciates and proclaims his evil; but does the text
support this perception? The simple reading of the text
can, in fact, even bring forth emotions of sympathy for
Esav. A strange dichotomy seems to exist. Our oral
tradition informs us of the inherent nature of many
Biblical personalities. The problem is that the text
often does not seem to support these presentations.
An argument that the Torah text presents our forefathers
in a truthful manner, even with faults, does not solve
this difficulty. A continuous debate exists amongst the
commentators in regard to how we should look at tzadikkim,
righteous individuals, especially those mentioned in the
Bible. There are those who maintain that we must see them
in a category beyond the confines of humanity and
understand their stories and lives fully within a context
of unearthly virtue. The Biblical text clearly presents a
challenge to such a perspective. There are those, though,
who maintain that we must see them as human beings and
understand the stories of their lives from a perspective
of humanity. Even this perspective is also challenged by
the text. The issue is not fallibility. The famous words
of Ramban, Bereishit 12:10 do not alleviate this problem of the text by
asserting that we are willing to accept the reality of
weakness, albeit minimal, in the members of our founding
family. The stories we encounter in the Chumash do
not simply relay errors in judgement or thoughtless
indiscretions. In cases such as the story of Hagar and
Yishmael, we encounter, what would seem to be, clear
moral indiscretion. Such behaviour would seem to be out
of character even for one with a commitment to general
moral principles, let alone two individuals of such
magnitude who are intended to serve as powerful models of
an ideal. This is precisely why the text is so difficult.
Saying, especially over and over again, that they were
still human does not suffice to answer this question.
Simple acceptance of the views of the midrash also
does not suffice to answer this challenge. Why does the
Torah present the stories in the manner that it does? If
the midrashic explanations of the events are true,
why does the Torah not just convey what occurred directly
in the text? Effectively, why create the question and the
challenge?
The story of Hagar and Yishmael becomes pivotal in
presenting a solution to this quandary and offering an
important insight into our reading of the Torah text. In
instructing Avraham to listen to the words of Sarah Imeinu,
God is really informing us that Sarah was correct. This
may be an important assumption for the reading of other
Biblical stories as well. Upon just reading a story such
as this one, the reader will arrive at a certain
perception of the story and the characters in the story.
In this case, the simple reading of the story would seem
to be negative. But then we are told that God said this
behaviour was correct. We are being told that this
behaviour was actually positive; that this behaviour, in
fact, supports the assertion that this is a story of
righteousness. Effectively we are given the answer to the
question; we just don’t know the reason. The point
of the midrashim and the commentaries may be, in
fact, to present this reason. They are not re-writing the
story. Their objective is actually to give insight so
that we can understand that indeed this story is a story
of righteousness. But why not just present it that way?
The Torah is presenting a most important lesson about
righteousness. Virtue does not exist in a vacuum. The
actions of a tzaddik do not flow solely from
his/her being; we cannot see righteousness just in the
evaluation of a behaviour in the context solely of a
personality. Ethical behaviour must consider the
surroundings and the situation. There are indeed cases
where a behaviour considered ethical in a vacuum, without
consideration of circumstances, would become unethical in
specific conditions. And there are situations that would
turn immoral behaviour, deemed as such in a vacuum, into
a righteous action. This may be a great underlying lesson of the Torah text. In relaying these paradoxical stories, the Torah is telling us of the need to evaluate the entire context of an event. The Torah is teaching us a process. We could have been told the entire story, as eventually elucidated in the midrash and commentaries but then we would not have learned emphatically the need to see beyond the simple, first perception of an event. We are ultimately being told that righteousness is not easy to achieve nor, often, easy to be determined and perceived. It demands thought, analysis and complex decisions. The Torah repeats this lesson again and again. Here is the simple perception of this event. The individuals in this story, though, are great, righteous individuals;3 the story would seem not to support such an assertion. But the answer is that they are virtuous. Go and learn. Go and work it out. Thereby you’ll learn what being a tzaddik or striving to be a tzaddik is really all about. It is a product of thought.
Footnotes 1 Of course, this is a broad
and complex issue in Jewish thought as we seem to find
conflicting sources on this subject. The reality is that
we are also all interrelated and, as such, one’s
behaviour may reflect upon the nature of another.
Nevertheless, the simplistic presentation of the
culpability, as presented in the prayer, reflects, within
the theme of this story, an intent to pervert justice in
the words of the Roman emperor. 2 The full story covers
Bereishit c. 16 and 21:9-21. 3 When one also considers the
words of Ramban in challenging the actions of Avraham,
one sees that the process is even more complex. The
potential to see incorrect behaviours in the stories is
not totally discarded. The result adds a further
dimension to this process. The result is that one is
truly learning the mechanism of righteousness rather than
a dogmatic presentation of actions. Virtue cannot be
mimicked. One cannot become a tzaddik by simply
observing the actions of the righteous and incorporating
such behaviour in one’s actions. One has to
understand the process of thought behind the actions. The
tzaddik is ultimately not one who acts correctly.
He or she is one who analyzes and decides correctly. The
infrequent cases of a mistake make this point. The fact
that at first sight the general population often does not
see the correctness of a behaviour makes this point. © Nishma, 2007 Return to top |
© 2006 NISHMA