Showing posts with label Abravanel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Abravanel. Show all posts

Sunday, April 2, 2023

Maaseh b’Rebbi Eliezer: Abravanel’s Framing of Insomnia on Pesach Night

Ever wonder why we talk about the Sages in Bnei Brak staying up all night? Better question: Have you ever gotten a bad sleep after the seder? If the answer to both question is "yes," check this out.

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Artwork: DALL-E's response to the prompt "impressionist painting of men in turbans sitting at a passover seder with the light of dawn visible in the sky"





Maaseh b’Rebbi Eliezer: Abravanel’s Framing of Insomnia on Pesach Night

How many of us have ever gotten a bad sleep on the first (and second) nights of Pesach? Indeed, the better the seder is and the longer it lasts, the worse sleep one will tend to get. This is especially true for those who fulfill the Yom Tov halacha of chatzi la’Shem chatzi lachem (i.e. waking up to daven at sunrise, learning for the rest of the morning, and only breaking for lunch after halachic midday). By now I’ve resigned myself to getting a bad sleep on both nights of Pesach and chalking it up to, “Well, this is the cost of having good sedarim!” … until this year.

Abravanel kicks off his Zevach Pesach Haggadah commentary with a list of 100 questions (or “gates,” as he calls them). In classic Abravanel fashion, some of these questions are powerful, and others are … interesting? Personally, I was surprised by the fact that the only question he raised on the section entitled Maaseh b’Rebbi Eliezer, about the Sages who stayed up all night discussing the Exodus, was the following:

Why did the Sages of Israel engage in telling the story of the Exodus from Egypt all night? Why did they see fit to do this, and what befell them (cf. Esther 9:26) such that they deprived their eyes of sleep and their eyelids of slumber? Didn't the Torah command, “You shall rejoice on your festival” (Devarim 16:14)? But [sleep deprivation] is torture to the soul! Without a doubt, they must have done this for some reason! (Shaar 13)

Until this year, I had assumed – based on a shiur I heard from my Rosh ha’Yeshiva (HL-16, I believe) – that these Sages stayed up all night in accordance with the halacha codified by the Shulchan Aruch: “A person is obligated to be involved in the laws of Pesach, in [talking about] the Exodus from Egypt, and in telling of the miracles and wonders that Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu did for our fathers, until he is overcome by sleep” (Orach Chayim 481:2). In other words, my assumption was that these Sages began discussing these topics after they finished their seder and got so involved that they went all night until dawn. In other words, they stayed up all night inadvertently.

Abravanel disagrees. Instead, he provides a more creative answer in his Haggadah commentary:

For what reason did these perfected individuals see fit to engage in telling the story [of the Exodus] all night and to deprive themselves of sleep? [The answer is] because this is "a night that is guarded by Hashem" (Shemos 12:42), and Israel didn't sleep at all on the night they left Egypt. For the first part of the night, they were involved in doing the mitzvos of Pesach, with matzah and mrorim, as Hashem commanded, and during the last half of the night they were involved in the Exodus [itself]; therefore, they didn't allow themselves to sleep all night. And because "a person is obligated to act as though the left Egypt," therefore, these holy people did what they did: immediately at the beginning of the night they involved themselves in the mitzvos of matzah, maror, and the remembrance of the Pesach, just as their forefathers did in Egypt, and afterwards, for the rest of the night, they discussed the Exodus. Through this, they acted as though they, themselves, left [Egypt].

According to Abravanel, these Sages intentionally deprived themselves of sleep, staying up all night in order to emulate our forefathers, who didn’t sleep on the night of the actual Exodus, in order to fulfill the halacha of: “in each and every generation, a person is obligated to act (le’haros) as though they, themselves, left Egypt.”

I don’t know whether my take-away from this Abravanel is “legit” or not, but I’ll state it anyway. Next time I wake up on the morning of Pesach (or on the morning of the second day of Pesach) – filled with food, groggy from lack of sleep, and feeling the effects of the four cups – instead of bemoaning my state, I’ll think to myself: “Our forefathers who left Egypt didn’t sleep at all on the night of the 15th of Nisan. And by staying up last night, I reenacted their ordeal.” This way of framing my poor sleep will strengthen my identification with my forefathers. Moreover, I will feel grateful that I, unlike my forefathers, was not under any threat of oppression, and that I was able to partake in a leisurely discussion of Torah in the manner of one who is truly free.  

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Thursday, April 14, 2022

Tzfarde’a: The Plague That Lasted Forever

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Artwork: Lurking Crocodile, by Donato Giancola

Tzfarde’a: The Plague That Lasted Forever

Ask the average Jew to identify the species involved in the second of the ten plagues, and they’ll likely answer “frogs.” However, a few commentators interpret the word “tzfarde’a” to mean “crocodiles.” Saadia Gaon bases his interpretation on the account of the plagues in Sefer Tehilim: “He sent wild beasts into them which devoured them, and tzfarde’a which destroyed them” (Tehilim 78:45). He explains: “I interpret tzfarde’a as crocodiles because frogs don’t kill, whereas this [tzfarde’a mentioned in the pasuk] kills.” Ramban (Shemos 10:14) cites this opinion in the name of Rabbeinu Chananel. Ibn Ezra (ibid. 7:27, Second Commentary) brings it up as a possibility which he ultimately rejects. Rabbeinu Bachya (ibid. 10:19) also mentions this view.

The most emphatic crocodile advocate is the Abravanel, who marshals a number of proofs – too many to paraphrase in a 1-page article. His main argument is based on Moshe’s statement: “The crocodiles will depart from you and from your houses, and from your servants and your people; only in the River will they remain” (ibid. 8:7). The Abravanel writes: “How could [Moshe] say ‘only in the River will they remain,’ which indicates that they would remain exclusively in the Nile, when croaking frogs are found throughout all the rivers of Egypt, and also in all the streams and ponds in the world?” He acknowledges that crocodiles eventually made their way outside of the borders of Egypt, but staunchly maintains that prior to the plague of tzfarde’a, crocodiles were not present in the Nile, and were only brought there by the plague. He then goes on to spell out the implications of the pasuk:

Moshe said, "only in the River will they remain" because he saw that Paroh suffered greatly from the crocodiles, and therefore, in order to intimidate him, he said, "only in the River will they remain" – in other words, so that they will occasionally come up by the will of the Creator (blessed is He) as a reminder that the great crocodiles came into the Nile River by the decree of Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu as a punishment for the Egyptians; for this reason, He wanted the crocodiles to remain in the river of Egypt as a reminder, so that the offspring born to the later generations would know that this is the tzfarde'a that Hashem (blessed is He) brought to the Nile to destroy the Egyptians. This is why Moshe repeated, "only in the River shall they remain," for this was a new phenomenon, that the crocodiles would remain perpetually in the river of Egypt, in the manner of, "a memorial He made for His wonders" (Tehilim 111:4).

We Jews memorialize the events of Yetzias Mitzrayim through the laws of the Torah: Pesach, matzah, maror, and sippur (telling the story). According to the Abravanel, the Egyptians also received a memorial – one that was preserved in the laws of nature: the perpetual presence of crocodiles in the Nile. This stands to reason: we were one intended audience of the plagues: “in order that you recount in the ears of your children and your grandchildren how I made a mockery of Egypt, and the signs that I placed in their midst, and you shall know that I am Hashem” (Shemos 10:2). Egypt was the other audience: “in order to show you My power, and in order that My Name should be proclaimed throughout all the land” (ibid. 9:14). We received reminders for all generations in the form of mitzvos; so too, Egypt received a reminder for all generations in the form of a lasting plague.

Sforno (ibid. 8:6) also holds by the crocodile theory, but offers a different explanation as to why they remained in the Nile after the plague was removed from Paroh and his people:

in order that you know that there is none like Hashem, our God – for there is no power that can introduce a new change in nature except for a limited time, but the crocodiles which [remained] in the River [resulted from] a [permanent] change in the nature of the River.

In short, the Abravanel held that the purpose of this everlasting plague was for future generations – to preserve the fear of Hashem, and to remind them of the plagues. Sforno held that the purpose of this perpetual plague was for the present – to demonstrate that only the Creator can introduce a permanent change in a natural entity.

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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.

If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  For the full guide to all of my Torah content, click here

Monday, July 26, 2021

Taking the Road Less Traveled in Learning

This week's Torah content has been sponsored by Sol and Chummie Azose, in honor of the upcoming 81st birthday of the Rosh ha'Yeshiva, Rabbi Yisroel Chait, and the 91st birthday of Sol's father, Hazzan Isaac Azose. If you're interested in sponsoring a day's or a week's worth of Torah content, you can contact me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com.

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Artwork: Adventurous Impulse, by Minttu Hynninen


















Taking the Road Less Traveled in Learning

Yes, I am well aware of the source of the idiom and the fact that it is regarded as a misquote or a misunderstanding; see https://grammarist.com/idiom/the-road-less-traveled/

The Abravanel’s Lonely Quest

In his introduction to Sefer Shmuel, the Abravanel raises a powerful question about Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim (The Book of Chronicles): What, exactly, was Ezra ha’Sofer’s plan in composing this sefer? He subdivides this question into two “perplexities:” (a) Why did Ezra include some of the events and episodes from David ha’Melech’s life but omit others? (b) Why did Ezra repeat material from Sefer Shmuel and Sefer Melachim, much of it verbatim?

What intrigues me about this passage is not the Abravanel’s question or his answers, but the thoughts and feelings he expresses about his relationship to the question and his quest for answers. Here is the relevant excerpt, which I’ve divided into three paragraphs:

These are the perplexities that have arisen from this powerful question. Regarding the quest for the answer and the resolution [of these doubts] – behold! I remain alone, and no one has worked with me on these [matters]. On this subject I have found nothing – minor or major, good or bad – from our Sages of blessed memory: not from the early Talmudic Sages, nor from the latter authors or commentators. Not even one of them was bestirred by this perplexity at all, nor did any of them pave the way for its answer.

Behold! Hashem has added grief to my pain, for we do not have with us in this land a commentary on Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim, except for the few matters authored by the Radak (of blessed memory) which are nullified in their minuteness (batelim b’miutan), and he didn’t investigate deeply at all. Moreover, this book of Divrei ha’Yamim is not commonplace among the Jews in their midrashim.

Today I will recall my sin (es chata’ai ani mazkir ha’yom), for never in my days had I read it, nor had I investigated its contents for the duration of my existence until now, and nothing has remained for me but the force of my reasoning and my intellectual intuition about the pshat (straightforward meaning) of the pesukim, and the help of God Who has girded me with success and made wholesome my path.

Rarely do we see the classical meforshim (commentators) engage in such metacognitive commentary, reflecting on their own learning experiences and their feelings about them. When I read this, I was moved by my own similar experience – so much so, that I decided to write my own reflections on the three points raised by the Abravanel, as they pertain to my own teaching and learning. I don’t know whether anyone will find these reflections to be enlightening or beneficial, but I felt the need to express them.

Answering Questions that Haven’t Been Asked

The Abravanel begins by voicing his astonishment over the fact that his questions weren’t raised by any of his predecessors. To those who are familiar with the Abravanel and his intellectual fearlessness, it won’t come as a surprise that he wasn’t the least bit daunted by the absence of exegetical precedent.

In my experience, few intellectual thrills in Torah study compare to the discovery of a major question that none of the traditional commentators have asked. (True, the unanimous silence can sometimes make one wonder whether the question is founded on a mistaken premise; but more often than not, the question is so clear and powerful as to be undeniable, and the fact that none of the meforshim has raised it is a question on them – not a cause for self-doubt.) The thrill I experience has nothing to do with being the first to discover something. It’s the thrill of freshly fallen snow, the awakened creative energy felt upon finding a new source of inspiration, the excitement before opening the first pack in a Magic: the Gathering booster draft. It has nothing to do with ego or accomplishment, and everything to do with adventure.

Mishlei has provided me with some excellent practice in this regard. Because the pesukim are so cryptically worded, and because the commentators take such diverse approaches, it’s not uncommon to see a later commentator bothered by a question that earlier commentaries neglected to address. When I teach Mishlei I always require my students to come up with every question they can think of, no matter how minor it seems. When we survey the commentaries we typically find that most of the questions are addressed in some form or another, and if any of them aren’t, I remind my students that before these commentaries were written, then none of the questions were addressed, and that doesn’t make the questions any less real or valuable!

While I don’t go out of my way to look for such unasked questions, I am always delighted to encounter them in my learning. And even if I can’t answer them, my mind is inevitably enriched by their discovery.

Learning Without the Aid of Commentaries

The Abravanel then goes on to bemoan the woeful state of Divrei ha’Yamim commentaries. Thankfully, this isn’t a problem I encounter much in my own learning. Most of the texts I learn on a regular basis have enough commentaries to provide me with the guidance I need.

There are two exceptions, however: midrash aggadah (the homiletical interpretations and non-legalistic teachings of Chazal, as found in the Talmud and in the collections of midrashim) and the nusach ha’tefilah (liturgy), including piyyutim (liturgical poems), selichos (supplicatory penitential prayers) and kinnos (lamentations). It’s true that there are commentaries out there on these genres and subgenres, but unlike the commentaries on the texts of Torah she’bi’Chsav (the Written Torah), Torah she’baal Peh (the Oral Torah), and Talmud, I find that these commentaries often fail to provide me with the answers, elucidations, and direction I’m looking for. This leaves me in a similar situation to the one described by the Abravanel: no commentaries except for a few that don’t investigate on a deep enough level and are batel b’miutan, which forces me to venture out on my own.

Filling the Gaps

The Abravanel concludes by “confessing” his “sin” of never having investigated or even read Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim until the present time in his life. Interestingly enough, this is what led me to start learning Sefer Shmuel in the first place, which led me to the Abravanel’s comments.

I began my formal Jewish education in 11th grade at the alpeh-beis level. I spent the next several years “playing catchup” in an effort to compensate for the years of Jewish education I had missed out on as a child. Although I’m certainly happy with how far I’ve come, there are still major gaps in my learning. One of those gaps is Neviim Rishonim (i.e. Yehoshua, Shoftim, Shmuel, and Melachim – with the exception of the second half of Melachim II, which I taught for a number of years). What makes this gap even more embarrassing is the fact that most of my students learned these seforim at a young age, and tend to be fluent in the basic stories and characters. After years of asking my high school students to summarize famous episodes in the lives of Shmuel, Shaul, and David ha’Melech, and after repeatedly finding myself impeded by my own ignorance in my learning of Sefer Tehilim, I finally decided to “do teshuvah” and start learning Sefer Shmuel.

There is an advantage of learning something like Sefer Shmuel or Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim for the first time at a later-than-normal age – an advantage which is alluded to by the Abravanel, although it wasn’t necessarily his intent to make this point. He writes that his study of Sefer Divrei ha’Yamim would be guided by “[nothing] but the force of my reasoning and my intellectual intuition about the pshat of the pesukim.” Unlike his analysis of the other books of Tanach, which was undertaken at a much earlier age and was likely influenced by many other teachers and other commentaries, the Abravanel’s learning of Divrei ha’Yamim commenced at a more intellectually mature age; as such, it was led by his honed intuition and uninfluenced by external biases (at least, as uninfluenced as any of us can be).

Similarly, although I don’t share with my students and peers the advantage of having been raised with the stories in Sefer Shmuel, I do have an opportunity that they didn’t have: to learn through the text for the first time with the advantage of 20 years of serious learning, teaching, and personal development under my belt. This will allow me to see things that I might not have otherwise seen.

Concluding Thoughts

I have been obsessed with methodology and metacognition for as long as I have been involved in learning. Perhaps, because of this, I find this Abravanel more interesting than most. As a teacher, I strongly feel that students derive tremendous benefits from hearing their teachers speak in this manner about their own learning processes and their relationship to learning. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has, over the course of his learning, wondered, “Do I have to figure this out alone?” The more comfortable teachers feel to discuss their own learning-related doubts, anxieties, and (to use the Abravanel’s phrase) “sins,” the more their students can benefit by learning from their experiences.
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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you

If you would like to sponsor an article, shiur, or podcast episode, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone. 

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  For the full guide to all of my Torah content, click here

Friday, July 3, 2020

Chukas/Balak : Ethnic Retribution in Torah

Truthfully, this is more about Ki Seitzei, but I kept the heading since that’s where my investigation started. And to my regular readers: my apologies for the unusual the length of this post!

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Artwork: Campaign of Vengeance, by Igor Kieryluk

Chukas/Balak: Ethnic Retribution in Torah 

Introduction 

Should the descendants of one nation or ethnic group be held accountable for the wrongdoings of their ancestors, or treated differently on the basis of their predecessors’ conduct? 

The answers given to this broad and multifaceted question tend to be opinionated and heated, especially at this particular juncture in American history. For instance, there are those who maintain that the descendants of white slave owners share in the guilt of their ancestors’ crimes and are obligated by the principles of justice to make reparations to the descendants of Black slaves. Some extend this principle even further, regarding slavery as a sin shared by all white people and demanding restitution for all Black people, regardless of their actual familial connection to the institution of American slavery. Others argue that enough time has passed that the descendants of the criminals and victims of American slavery bear no connection to their ancestors – or at least, not enough of a connection to warrant the enactment of transgenerational justice – and that any attempt to enact such justice would be as unjust as punishing a child for his father’s sins. Similar questions have been raised about the wrongs committed against Native Americans by the American government, the crimes committed by the Nazis against the Jews of Europe, and other cases of oppression around the world. 

This article was born out of a desire to explore such cases of “ethnic retribution” in Torah – cases in which the descendants of one nation or ethnic group are subject to some form of discrimination on account of who their ancestors were or what their ancestors did. In this article we will focus on three such groups, each comprised of two nations or ethnicities: (a) Amonites and Moabites, (b) Edomites and Egyptians, (c) Amalekites and Canaanites; the latter includes seven specific nations – the Canaanites, Amorites, Girgashites, Hittites, Hivites, Jebusites, and Perizzites – but we’ll refer to them collectively as “Canaan” for simplicity’s sake. 

Each of these nations is singled out by the Torah on the basis of decisions made by their forebears and are subjected to laws which can be characterized as “retaliatory” in nature. We’ll begin with an overview of how each of these nations is treated according to halacha, as codified by the Rambam. [1] We will then raise some questions on these laws, examine some answers, and discover that the answers generate more questions and problems than they solve. 

Ethnic Discrimination in Marriage 

Four out of the six aforementioned nations are subject to the prohibition of “entering into the congregation of Hashem.” The prohibitions and their reasons are stated in Parashas Ki Seitzei: 

An Amonite or Moabite shall not enter the congregation of Hashem, even their tenth generation shall not enter the congregation of Hashem, to eternity, because of the fact that they did not greet you with bread and water on the road when you were leaving Egypt, and because he hired against you Bilaam son of Beor, of Pesor, Aram Naharaim, to curse you. But Hashem, your God, refused to listen to Bilaam, and Hashem, your God, reversed the curse to a blessing for you, because Hashem, your God, loved you. You shall not seek their peace or their welfare, all your days, forever.
 
You shall not reject an Edomite, for he is your brother; you shall not reject an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land. Children who are born to them in the third generation may enter the congregation of Hashem. (Devarim 23:4-9) 

We will delay our analysis of the reasons given in these pesukim (verses) and will focus instead on the halachic parameters of these restrictions. The Rambam [2] codifies them as follows: 

12:17 – Regarding every [member of] every nation: when they convert and accept upon themselves all the mitzvos of the Torah, and [likewise] slaves upon being freed, they become like an Israelite in every respect, as it is stated: “there shall be one statute for the congregation” (Bamidbar 15:15). And it is permissible for them to enter into the congregation of Hashem immediately – namely, that a male convert or freed slave may marry a native-born Jewish woman, and a native-born Jewish man may marry a female convert or freed slave – except for four nations alone, and they are: Amon, Moav, Egypt, and Edom; regarding these nations, when a member of one of them converts, they are like an Israelite in every respect except with regards to entering the congregation [by marrying a native-born Jew]. 

12:18 – What is their law? The prohibition on Amon and Moav is for all time, on the males but not the females, as it is stated: “no Amoni (literally, male Amonite) or Moavi (literally, male Moabite) may enter” and it is a law given to Moses from Sinai that only a male Amonite and a male Moabite is forever prohibited to marry a native-born Jewish woman – even the son, of a son, of a son, until the end of time – but a female Amonite or Moabite is permitted [to marry a native-born Jew] immediately, like the other nations. [Note: a male Amonite or Moabite may marry another convert or freed slave without restriction.] 

12:19 – Regarding Egyptians and Edomites, whether males or females, the first and second generation are prohibited from entering [the congregation] of Israel, but the third generation is permitted, as it is stated: “children who are born to them in the third generation” … 

To summarize: all gentiles who convert to Judaism are allowed to marry any Jew with the exception of gentiles from four specific nations: Amonite and Moabite men may never marry native-born Jewish women; Edomite and Egyptian men and women are not allowed to marry native-born Jews, nor may their children, but their grandchildren may. 

In the cases of Amonite and Moabite male converts the prohibition is expressed in terms of marriage and is violated through the act of sexual intercourse. However, in the cases of Edomites and Egyptians, although it is prohibited to marry or have relations with 1st and 2nd generation converts, the prohibition is expressed in terms of rejection: “You shall not reject an Edomite … You shall not reject an Egyptian.” What does this mean practically? Rambam [3] writes: 

We are prohibited from rejecting the descendants of Eisav (i.e. the Edomites) after they convert. In other words, we are forbidden to avoid marrying them after they convert … 

We are prohibited from rejecting the Egyptians and avoiding marrying them after they convert … 

In other words, for a native-Jew to reject a first or second generation Edomite or an Egyptian on the basis of their ethnicity is not only permitted, but is actually backed by force of a Torah prohibition – and yet, if a person were to avoid marrying a third generation Edomite or Egyptian convert on the basis of their ethnicity, then they would be in violation of a different Torah prohibition. In this sense it may be said that the Torah legislates the exact parameters of our ethnic discrimination towards Edomites and Egyptians. 

What about Amalek and Canaan? One might assume that the effort to distance ourselves from these nations would be even more extreme – and yet, the opposite is true. According to the Rambam, there is no Torah prohibition to marry an Amalekite or a Canaanite convert whatsoever. The Rambam explicitly states in 12:22: “One who converts from the seven [Canaanite] nations is not prohibited by the Torah to enter into the congregation.” Why mention Canaanites at all if they’re all permissible? Because, as the Rambam goes on to explain, Yehoshua and David subsequently imposed Rabbinic marriage restrictions on the Gibeonites – the only Canaanite community that actually converted. The fact that the Rambam doesn’t even mention Amalekite converts [4] clearly implies that they were included in his statement in 12:17, namely, that they are no different than a convert from any other non-Jewish nation, and “it is permissible for them to enter into the congregation of Hashem immediately.” 

Are these laws observed today? The Rambam concludes the chapter with an answer: 

12:25 – When Sancheriv, King of Assyria, arose, he confounded [the identity of] all the nations, intermingling them with one another and exiling them from their place. [Consequently,] these Egyptians that are presently in the land of Egypt are other people; likewise, the Edomites in the field of Edom. And since these four prohibited nations have assimilated into all of the nations of the world which are permissible, all of them are [now] permissible, since if [a member of] one of them separates himself for conversion, it is assumed that he separated from the majority. [5]

Therefore, when anyone converts in the present era in any location – whether an Edomite, an Egyptian, an Amonite, a Moabite, an Ethiopian, or any other ethnicity, whether male or female – they are permitted to enter the congregation immediately. 

In other words, despite the fact that these Torah prohibitions are still in effect, they are practically not observed anymore because there is no way for us to tell which individuals descended from these nations, thanks to Sancheriv’s campaign of forced international exile and assimilation. [6] Due to the principle of “whoever separates is assumed to have separated from the majority,” every convert is now permitted to marry a native-born Jew because it is assumed that that convert did not come from one of those four nations. 

Ethnic Discrimination in War and Peace 

It is well-known that the Jewish people were commanded to wipe out the seven nations of Canaan upon our initial conquest of the Land of Israel so that we would not be influenced by their corrupt behavior, practices, and beliefs. The Torah states this explicitly: 

But from the cities of these peoples that Hashem, your God, gives you as an inheritance, you shall not allow any person to live. Rather, you shall utterly destroy them – the Hittite, the Amorite, the Canaanite, the Perizzite, the Hivvite, and the Jebusite – as Hashem, your God, has commanded you, so that they will not teach you to act according to all their abominations that they performed for their gods, so that you will sin to Hashem, your God. (Devarim 20:16-18) 

Likewise, it is well-known that we are commanded to wipe out the nation of Amalek in retaliation for their ambush on the Jewish people as we left Egypt: 

Remember what Amalek did to you, on the way, when you were leaving Egypt, that he happened upon you on the way, and he struck those of you who were hindmost, all the weaklings at your rear, when you were faint and exhausted, and did not fear God. It shall be that when Hashem, your God, gives you rest from all your enemies all around, in the Land that Hashem, your God, gives you as an inheritance to possess it, you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek from under the heaven – you shall not forget! (ibid. 25:17-19) 

However, the parameters of these seemingly sweeping genocidal mandates are not as well-known. In order to understand how we are supposed to relate to Amalek and Canaan, and in order to understand the aforementioned commandment regarding Amon and Moav of “you shall not seek their peace or their welfare,” we must familiarize ourselves with the laws of waging war and making peace. Rambam [7] writes: 

6:1 – We do not wage war with anyone in the world unless we first make overtures for peace, whether in an optional war or an obligatory war, as it is stated: “When you approach a city to wage war with it, you shall call out to it in peace” (Devarim 20:10). If they make peace and accept the seven Noahide commandments, we do not kill a single soul, and they become a tributary, as it is stated: “they shall be for you as a tributary and shall serve you” (Devarim 20:11) … 

6:4 – But if they do not make peace, or if they make peace but do not accept the seven commandments, then we make war with them; we kill all of the adult males and take their property and children as spoils, but we do not kill neither woman nor child, as it is stated: “and the women and children” (Devarim 20:14; 2:34) – this refers to males who are minors. 

When does this [law of sparing women and children] apply? To an optional war with other nations. But [in the case of an obligatory war] with the seven [Canaanite] nations and Amalek, if they do not accept peace, then we do not spare any soul, as it is stated: “thus shall you do to all of the cities … but of the cities of the [seven Canaanite] nations … you shall not allow any soul to live” (Devarim 20:15-16). Likewise, it says about Amalek: “you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek” (Devarim 25:19)

And from where do we know that this [mandate to kill every man, woman, and child] only applies to those who don’t make peace? As it is stated: “There was not a city that made peace with the Children of Israel except for the Hivvite inhabitants of Gibeon; they took everything in battle. For it was from Hashem, to harden their hearts toward battle against Israel, in order to destroy them” (Yehoshua 11:19-20) – this implies that they made peace overtures which were not accepted … 

6:6 – We do not make peace overtures to Amon and Moav, as it is stated: “you shall not seek their peace or their welfare” (Devarim 23:10). The Sages said: Since it was stated, “you shall call out to it in peace” one might think that this is the case with Amon and Moav; therefore, the verse says: “you shall not seek out their peace.” Since it was said: “he shall dwell with you in your midst … for his benefit” (ibid. 23:17) one might think that this is the case with Amon and Moav; therefore, the verse says: “or their welfare.” But even though we do not make peace overtures towards them, if they initiate overtures for peace on their own, we accept them

Note which nations are omitted from these laws: Edom and Egypt. Despite the fact that we single them out when it comes to entering the congregation of Hashem, we treat them the same as any other nation when it comes to waging war and making peace. 

To summarize: we offer peace to almost every nation – including Amalek, Canaan, Edom, and Egypt – but not to Amon and Moav; however, if they offer peace, we accept it. And if a nation doesn’t accept our offers for peace, we only kill the adult males but spare the women and children – except in the case of Amalek and Canaan, in which case we kill everyone. 

We will conclude this section with a chart summarizing how each of these six nations is treated in marriage and in war, with the anomalies emphasized in bold and red: 


Questions, Answers, and Problems 

There are two overarching questions on all of the foregoing laws: (1) On what basis do we discriminate against these six nations? (2) How is it justifiable to discriminate against these people based on what their ancestors did? 

We will begin by reviewing the pesukim – this time with an emphasis on the reasons given: 

An Amonite or Moabite shall not enter the congregation of Hashem, even their tenth generation shall not enter the congregation of Hashem, to eternity, because of the fact that they did not greet you with bread and water on the road when you were leaving Egypt, and because he hired against you Bilaam son of Beor, of Pesor, Aram Haraim, to curse you. But Hashem, your God, refused to listen to Bilaam, and Hashem, your God, reversed the curse to a blessing for you, because Hashem, your God, loved you. You shall not seek their peace or their welfare, all your days, forever. 

You shall not reject an Edomite, for he is your brother; you shall not reject an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land. Children who are born to them in the third generation may enter the congregation of Hashem. (Devarim 23:4-9) 

The Sefer ha’Chinuch [8] explains why the Torah prohibits us from marrying Amonite and Moabite converts based on the reasons mentioned in the pesukim

At the root of this mitzvah lies the reason explicitly given in the parshah: “because of the fact that they did not greet you with bread and water etc. and because he hired against you etc.” Scripture here informs us of the greatness of the quality of gemilus chasadim (acts of kindness) and repulsion towards the qualities of villainy and stinginess. Therefore He commanded us to establish a permanent hatred for them, for they (i.e. the Amonites and Moabites) became so corrupt and abominable as to show the utmost degree of their wickedness and villainy, not meeting with even bread and water a great congregation of weary travelers passing through their borders; and because Moav hired Bilam to curse them. 

According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, it’s not that the Torah has anything against Amonites and Moabites per se. Rather, the Amonites and Moabites embodied bad middos (character traits) which are antithetical to Jewish values. By prohibiting them from marrying native-born Jews, we highlight our opposition to the bad middos associated with those nations – even if the particular Amonite or Moabite doesn’t exhibit them. In other words, our exclusion of Amonites and Moabites is didactic (i.e. intended to teach and reinforce values) and not xenophobic (i.e. stemming from a prejudiced judgment of this particular person based on his nation of origin). 

In light of this explanation one might ask: Why does the prohibition only applies to Amonite and Moabite men, but not women? If these are national traits, shouldn’t we exclude all Amonites and Moabites, as we do with Edom and Egypt? The Sefer ha’Chinuch [9] answers this question: 

The Sages (Talmud Bavli: Yevamos 76b) said as a reason for this: “because it is the derech (lit. way) of a man to meet [oncoming strangers with hospitality] but not of women”; in other words, the women had no hand in the villainy when the Israelites were not met with bread and water, since it is not a woman’s way to go out, and God will not pervert justice to penalize a woman for the villainy of her man. “Far be it from God that He should do wickedness” (Iyov 34:10). 

According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, the Amonite and Moabite women did not participate in the “villainy” of refusing to provide the Jews with bread and water, which is why they are not included in the prohibition. Excluding them from marriage would not achieve the didactic aim.

Rav Hirsch, citing the same Gemara, takes a slightly different approach: 

The reason for this halacha (of distinguishing between men and women) is attributed to the reason the Torah gives for this prohibition: because they did not practice international humaneness; they did not offer food and drink to the people who were passing by their territory and who were exhausted from traveling in the wilderness. Such international humaneness is exercised primarily by men. Hence, the women were not to blame … 

The later prophets continued to reprove Moav for this attribute of harshness toward other nations and inhumane coarseness. When the time came for Moav’s destruction, Yeshayahu described the cause of its fall (Yeshayahu 15-16). All the nations bordering on Moav were crying out about the Moabites’ actions (ibid. 15:8). From far off one heard only tales of this nation’s arrogance, pride, and blind fury (ibid. 16:6). The only way for Moav to avert the evil decree is to turn to kindness. While still at the height of its success, while its light shines like the sun at noon, it must show kindness to unfortunate refugees. As Yeshayahu calls out to Moav: “Give thought, imagine the shades of night had already fallen in bright midday. Hide the outcasts, betray no wanderer, let my outcasts find a home with you. Moav, be their protector against the spoiler. For extortion must cease; spoiling must be brought to an end; oppressors must disappear from the land. A throne shall be established through mercy” (ibid. 16:3-5). 

According to the halacha, the Moabite women had no part in these attributes; they did not banish from their hearts humane feelings toward other nations and did not cultivate singular national pride. This was credited to them as a double merit, since they had to overcome the influence of the men. 

So, too, we should appreciate Ruth, woman of Moav, a woman of exquisite humanity, who was mother of the Davidic kingdom. In her heart burned a flame of love for people, a love that bridges the barrier that separates nation from nation. Surely she had a part in the spirit that, in the tones of the harp of her great-grandson [David], sings of a future morning when nations will be united around God and heralds the break of that dawn. 

According to Rav Hirsch, it’s not just that the women of Moav happened to not participate in villainy. Rather, there was a completely different culture and value system among Moabite men and Moabite women. Moabite men were cruel, arrogant, and unkind, whereas Moabite women exhibited none of these traits. This distinction is reflected in the structure of the halacha. 

What about the additional reason given for Moav: “because he hired against you Bilaam son of Beor, of Pesor, Aram Haraim, to curse you”? This is somewhat problematic. The Sefer ha’Chinuch only mentions this reason as an afterthought. Based on the pasuk here, which says “because he hired,” the hiring of Bilaam sounds like the decision of one man: Balak, King of Moav. If so, why should it affect our judgment of Moav as a whole? And if the king’s decision was driven by his people, then why does the pasuk speak in the singular? 

Other than that minor issue, the Sefer ha’Chinuch seems to be well on his way to answering our questions. But then he is forced to confront a glaring conundrum: If the Torah distances us from Amonite and Moabite men for all generations because they didn’t provide us with bread and water (and secondarily because of the hiring of Bilaam), then certainly we should treat Egypt the same way, since they enslaved us for 210 years – and yet, we only keep Egypt at a distance for two generations! The Sefer ha’Chinuch then provides a problematic answer: 

Now, even though [the people of] Egypt enslaved us and afflicted us for a long time, we are only kept away from them until the third generation. With this we know that it is better for a person to commit many sins than one great act of villainy. By deciding to do a vile act of villainy, without any concern about exposing his mind and his shame before many nations, one thus shows the evil of his temperament and the utter degree of his baseness, and that there is no longer any corrective measure to make himself worthy and to improve his action. His depravity has become so entrenched that it cannot be fixed. A man like that is not fit to intermingle with the blessed people of holiness

This answer is baffling on a number of levels. First, does this reasoning even make sense? Are 100 acts of moderate violence always better than one act of severe wrongdoing? It’s debatable, at the very least. Second, enslaving us and embittering our lives wasn’t the only thing Egypt did. They also participated in a state-sponsored extermination of all Jewish boys! Does that not qualify as “one great act of villainy”? Doesn't that show a far more reprehensible national character than neglecting to provide a nation with food and water? Third, what about Amalek? Amalek ambushed us in a cowardly manner, preying upon “the weaklings at [our] rear” when we “were weak and exhausted,” and intended to annihilate us completely. Does that not warrant a prohibition against marrying Amalekite converts on par with Amon and Moav? Fourth, his final few sentences suggest that our refusal to marry Amonite and Moabite men is not just didactic, but actually stems from three assumptions: (a) that Amonite and Moabite men actually possess these bad middos, (b) these qualities are so entrenched they are beyond hope of correction, and (c) allowing them to marry native-born Jews will “corrupt” the nation of Israel. These assumptions are highly problematic! Nations and cultures change. Individuals can choose to rise above the trends of their societies. Who is to say that every Amonite or Moabite will embody an incurable condition of cruelty and villainy, to the extent that the Torah needs to impose a blanket prohibition on them to prevent them from “infecting” our people? If the barbaric and lawless Assyrian capital of Nineveh did teshuvah when rebuked by Yonah, how can we say that Amon and Moav are beyond hope?

But wait: it gets even more problematic. In his presentation of the prohibition against rejecting an Edomite and an Egyptian, the Sefer ha’Chinuch raises our initial question and offers his own answer: 

The root reason for this mitzvah is obvious: it is to inform us that we should not behave with a prohibition toward the descendants of Edom, and should not reject them by kal va’chomer (i.e. reasoning from less to more) from the Amonites, saying: “If Amon and Moav, because of one time that they did not meet us with bread and water, were distanced from us by God, how much more so the Edomites and the Egyptians, who made the Israelites suffer so much!” Therefore, the admonition was given us about them, not to refrain from intermarrying with them. For the periods of servitude to which they subjected us were a decree of Hashem for us, and we ought not to set a permanent hatred in our heart for that. They are rather called our brothers when they undergo conversion and come to shelter under the wings of the shechinah (divine presence). With Amon and Moav, though, there is another reason for hatred toward them: that is the matter of the enormous villainous outrage which they found in their heart to commit, as I wrote shortly above. 

What? The first time around he acknowledged that the Egyptian enslavement of Bnei Yisrael really did involve wrongdoing, but because it involved “many sins” rather than “one great act of villainy,” Egypt didn’t warrant the same treatment as Amon and Moav. Now he’s saying that because the servitude was “a decree of Hashem for us,” then we shouldn’t harbor a permanent hatred. On its surface, this would seem to somewhat excuse the Egyptians for their mistreatment of their Hebrew slaves, and opens up a huge can of worms as to the justice (or injustice) of the divine punishment of Egypt through the ten plagues. 

We are left with mixed feelings about the Sefer ha'Chinuch. The crux of his approach has a lot of merit, but in his efforts to consistently explain the discriminatory laws concerning these four nations, he raises new problems, the solutions to which are not readily apparent.

The Abravanel [10] has a completely different take on the Torah's exclusion of Amon and Moav from the congregation of Hashem based on the background information provided way back in Sefer Bereishis. Amon and Moav descended from Lote, Avraham Avinu’s nephew. Avraham saved Lote on two occasions: by rescuing him after he had been taken captive (Bereishis 14:12-16), and by sending messengers to save him from being destroyed along with the other inhabitants of Sedom and Amora (ibid. Chapter 19). Lote’s wife perishes in the escape and he and his two daughters take shelter in a cave. Under the severely mistaken impression that all human civilization had been destroyed, Lote’s daughters ply their father with wine and sleep with him in an effort to repopulate the earth. The resulting offspring become the progenitors of Amon and Moav. On this basis the Abravanel writes: 

The Amonites and Moabites did not greet [the Children of Israel] with bread and water, nor did they allow them to pass through their land. Since Amon and Moav were descendants of Lote, who received tremendous kindness from Avraham who saved him from the sword and from capture, and in whose merit he escaped from the upheaval of Sedom and Amora, they (i.e. Amon and Moav) were indebted to do so (i.e. to give provisions and allow passage) to Israel – but they did the opposite. Therefore, it is fitting that their punishment be excessive and severe. Additionally, Moav added a rebellious offense to its sin by hiring Bilaam to curse Israel, and although his counsel was thwarted, this is only because Hashem (exalted is He) did not listen to Bilaam and transformed his curse to blessing out of His love for Israel. Therefore, it was fitting that even though [the Children of Israel were commanded] not to provoke war [with Moav] and not to take their land, since they descended from Lote [and were given the Plains of Moav as an inheritance], they were also [commanded] not to seek out their peace and welfare, for just as they were inhospitable to you by not providing you with bread and water, so too, you should not be hospitable to them by allowing them to marry the daughters of Israel. And since they possess a corrupt nature and such a deteriorated character, it is not fitting that they should illicitly intermingle [11] with the seed that Hashem has blessed. For this reason it was stated: “even their tenth generation shall not enter the congregation of Hashem” – meaning to say that this [exclusion] is eternal, which is why it said “all your days, forever.” 

According to the Abravanel, the sin of Amon and Moav was not merely that they refused to provide us with bread and water; rather, it’s that they refused to provide us with bread and water despite being doubly indebted to us, on account of the kindness shown to their forefather Lote by our forefather Avraham. This was more than an act of international inhospitality. It was also an ungrateful refusal to recognize and repay the descendants of Avraham for the acts of kindness which resulted in their very existence. 

The Abravanel then contrasts Amon and Moav with Edom and Egypt: 

It is not fitting to reject [the Edomites and the Egyptians] completely, like Amon and Moav – the Edomite because of his familial relation, “for he is your brother,” and it is appropriate for a person to love his relative even if he is wronged by him, and the Egyptian because “you were sojourners in his land,” and Yaakov went down to Egypt because of the “fevers of famine” (Eichah 5:10) and found [relief] at the time of his trouble, as the Sages said: “they provided lodging at a time of pressing need.” Therefore, even though they did evil to you, it is appropriate for you not to reject them [entirely] and not to withhold their reward. This is [the reason why] “children who are born to them in the third generation” may marry [native-born Jewish] women and enter into the congregation of Hashem. 

Although we were wronged by Edom, we should be more forgiving because they are our brothers. Although we were wronged by Egypt, we were also saved by them at a time when our forefathers were in danger of dying of starvation. Indeed, we owe our existence to Egypt in the same way that Amon and Moav owe their existence to us.

Next, the Abravanel addresses two problems: (1) We are related to Amon and Moav, so why not treat them like Edom? (2) Edom refused to provide us with bread and water, as the pesukim in Bamidbar 20:14-21 [12] imply, so why don’t we treat them like Amon and Moav? He writes: 

But why didn’t it mention a “brotherly covenant” with Amon and Moav as it did with Edom? And why didn’t it mention the fact that Edom didn’t greet us with bread and water, as it mentioned by Amon and Moav? The answer, according to me, is as follows: 

Although Edom harbored animosity [towards Israel] and didn’t allow Israel to pass through its territory and didn’t greet them with bread and water, they had a huge claim against us, because Yaakov took the birthright from Eisav, his older brother, and also took his blessings through deception. It would have been enough for Edom if they didn’t greet Israel with war, as did Amalek. Therefore it said: “do not reject an Edomite, for he is your brother” – in other words, there is a strong relationship between you, and he didn’t harm you, despite having a huge claim against you

However, Amon and Moav did not have a claim [which would constitute a valid reason] to hate Israel and harm them. [To the contrary,] they should have granted them a double benefit, in accordance with the benefit that Avraham gave their father. Neither Lote nor his descendants were subjected to insults from Avraham and his descendants, as Eisav received from Yaakov. Therefore, Amon and Moav were deserving of great punishment for refusing to benefit Israel, whereas Edom was deserving of great reward for not harming them. Additionally, our relatedness to Edom was great and powerful, since Eisav and Yaakov were the sons of Yitzchak and Rivkah. However, even though Lote was related to Avraham, that [relationship] was distant, since he was his nephew; also, the descendants of Lote came about in an improper manner from his two daughters. For this reason, Edom is called “brother” in Scripture (see Malachi 1:2), whereas Amon and Moav are never referred to as [our] “brothers” in any place. 

According to the Abravanel, Edom had every right to hate us, to deny us provisions, to refuse passage through their territory, and – remarkably – to go to war with us, on account of our forefather Yaakov’s taking of the birthright and blessings from their forefather Eisav. Although Edom’s wrongdoing towards Israel still warrants a reprisal, this long-standing claim combined with our kinship mitigates the punishment that they would have otherwise deserved. Amon and Moav may participated in the same international relations misconduct, but their crime is considered far worse on account of their indebtedness to Avraham. That, combined with the fact that they are only “distant cousins” rather than “brothers,” is why the Torah gave them the full degree of punishment they deserved. 

Let us assess the Abravanel’s approach. On the one hand, he avoids many of the problems we raised on the Sefer ha’Chinuch’s explanations. The Abravanel's approach is firmly grounded in the pesukim and even sheds light on the background information about Amon and Moav provided in Sefer Bereishis. 

However, there is one major problem: according to the Abravanel, the Torah is effectively punishing descendants for the wrongdoings of their ancestors. According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, the Torah excludes Amon and Moav from the congregation in order to reinforce our rejection of the bad middos associated with their nations, and this didactic exclusion from the congregation is equally relevant to any and every generation of Amonites and Moabites. In contrast, the Abravanel's explanation only accounts for why those particular groups of Amonites, Moabites, and Edomites who actually committed these crimes against the Children of Israel in the Wilderness were worthy of punishment. Why should their offspring be similarly punished for all generations? If, for example, the son of a Holocaust survivor had the opportunity to repay the offspring of his father’s liberator and neglected to do so, he would certainly be worthy of censure – but would this justify punishing all of his offspring until the end of time? Lehavdil, when North Koreans commit crimes against the regime which are punishable by life imprisonment, they are subject to the "three generations of punishment" policy established by Kim Il-Sung, by which their children and grandchildren are also imprisoned for life. We recognize this as inexcusably unjust - so how can the Torah punish future generations of Amonites, Moabites, Edomites, and Egyptians for the crimes of a particular generation of their ancestors? “Far be it from God that He should do wickedness” (Iyov 34:10).

Concluding Thoughts 

In this article we set out to answer the question: Should the descendants of one nation or ethnic group be held accountable for the wrongdoings of their predecessors? Our ultimate objective was to shed light on the similar questions being asked in America and around the world today. 

Did we emerge from our investigation with a clear answer to this question? Absolutely not! We now have more questions and problems than we did when we started. 

But does that mean that our investigation was a failure? Not at all! If anything, it has become abundantly clear that the answer to this question is not simple or clear cut by any stretch of the imagination. For example, if one believes that descendants of slave owners should not be held accountable to pay reparations to the descendants of slaves, then why does the Torah hold the descendants of the Amonites and Moabites accountable for their ancestors' injustices towards our ancestors, as the Abravanel explained? And if one maintains that such reparations should be made, due to the centuries of oppression that African American slaves suffered at the hands of their masters, what about the Sefer ha'Chinuch's statement that "it is better for a person to commit many sins than one great act of villainy" or the fact that Egypt's punishment for enslaving Israel is mitigated by the fact that they provided for us in our time of need? Perhaps there is a statute of limitations on this transgenerational justice in the case of slavery as there is in the case of Egypt? And for those who either support or condemn the rioting and looting in the name of BLM, what about the Abravanel's view that the Edomites were somewhat justified in their mistreatment of the Israelites on account of what Yaakov did to Eisav hundreds of years earlier? 

And perhaps someone will object to our entire endeavor to draw parallels and inferences from these Torah laws to other historical cases and current events. That, too, is a legitimate possibility. Perhaps only Hashem, in His Omniscience and love of righteousness and justice, is in the position to enact such transgenerational measures of justice and retribution, but for human beings to even attempt to do so would be sheer folly.

This is precisely the type of confusion that I believe we need in this country right now. In an era plagued by extremism, absolutism, and "us versus them" politics, it is a step in the right direction to acknowledge that the problems with which we are confronted are far more complex and nuanced than we'd like to think. The difficulties we encountered in our analysis should give us pause, and in that pause, we should reassess whether the feelings of certainty we have on current events are backed by reason or merely by passion.


Footnotes:
[1] There are certainly other views on these topics, but I’m most familiar with the Rambam, and I’m sticking to him. 
[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Kedushah, Hilchos Issurei Biah 
[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Sefer ha’Mitzvos: Lo Taaseh #54-55 
[4] Some want to argue that according to the Rambam it is prohibited for an Amalekite to convert to Judaism at all. This argument falls apart when one considers the fact that the Rambam doesn’t mention Amalek at all in the laws of conversion and doesn’t mention conversion in the laws of Amalek. The pasuk says: “David then asked the young man who was telling him, ‘Where are you from?’ and he replied, ‘I am the son of an Amalekite convert’” (II Shmuel 1:13), and we have every indication to believe that the Rambam would take that pasuk at face value. 
[5] This is a general principle in halacha: whenever there is a mixture of indistinguishable entities and one of them separates from the mixture, we assume that it came from the majority component. 
[6] It is for this reason that I decided to characterize these laws as “ethnic retribution” rather than “national retribution.” The Rambam does not say that these marriage restrictions are null and void because the national identities or cultures of Amon, Moav, Edom, and Egypt have ceased to exist. Rather, he says that Amonite, Moabite, Edomite, and Egyptian individuals are still out there – even though their nations have long since vanished – but the problem is that we just can’t tell who they are. In other words, the prohibition focuses on ethnicity, not national identity. Theoretically (albeit not halachically), if we knew for certain that a particular male convert was an ethnic Amonite or Moabite, he would not be allowed to marry a native-born Jewish woman. 
[7] ibid. Mishneh Torah: Sefer Shoftim, Hilchos Melachim u’Milchamos 
[8] Sefer ha’Chinuch: Ki Seitzei Mitzvah #561 
[9] This passage actually comes later on. I’m citing it here to maintain the flow of the article. 
[10] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Devarim 23:4-9 
[11] Here the Abravanel uses the word “kilayim” which means “forbidden mixture.” 
[12] See? I told you this connected to Chukas and Balak!

Friday, June 5, 2020

Naso: Twelve Identical Offerings

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Naso: Twelve Identical Offerings

The Question 

Without a doubt, the strangest section of Parashas Naso is its conclusion. Bamidbar Chapter 7 begins by establishing the narrative context: 

And it happened on the day Moshe finished setting up the Mishkan (Tabernacle) that he anointed it and consecrated it and all its furnishings, and he anointed them and consecrated them. And the leaders of Israel – the heads of their fathers’ houses, they are the leaders of the tribes, they are the ones who stand over the reckoning – brought forward and set their offering before Hashem … And the leaders brought forward the dedication offering of the altar on the day it was anointed, and the leaders brought forward their offering for the dedication of the altar. And Hashem said to Moshe: “One leader each day, one leader each day, shall offer his offerings for the dedication for the altar.” (Bamidbar 7:1-2,10-11) 

The first of these offerings is then described in detail: 

And the one who brought forward his offering on the first day was Nachshon ben Aminadav of the tribe of Yehudah. And his offering was one silver bowl, a hundred thirty shekels its weight, one silver basin, seventy shekels by the sanctuary shekel, both of them filled with fine flour mixed with oil for a grain offering. One golden ladle of ten shekels filled with incense. One bull from the herd, one ram, one yearling lamb for the burnt offering. One goat for an offense offering. And for the communion sacrifice two oxen, five rams, five he-goats, five yearling lambs. This is the offering of Nachshon ben Aminadav. (ibid. 7:12-17) 

And that’s when things start to get repetitive. The Torah goes on to describe the offering brought on the second day by the second tribal leader, Nesanel ben Tzuar. It is exactly the same offering, and its contents are spelled out in exactly the same words. The Torah continues in this manner with the third, fourth, and fifth identical offerings – all the way up to the twelfth. Each tribal leader brings exactly the same offering, which the pesukim describe in exactly the same way. It is as if Moshe Rabbeinu took these same six pesukim, with the same 66 words, and copied and pasted them eleven more times, then went back and changed the name of the tribal leader and in the ordinal designation of the day for each. 

This seemingly gratuitous repetition has astounded medieval and modern commentators alike. The Abravanel [1] raises this question explicitly: 

Why did the text here mention the offering of each leader in elaborate detail, considering that their offerings were exactly equal without any variation? It would have been enough for it to say about the first of them “this was the offering of Nachshon ben Aminadav” as an example, and afterwards for each and every day, “and likewise, so-and-so offered on the such-and-such day” – as opposed to writing the same thing twelve times, which is excessively repetitive and is a very strange thing

The modern translator and commentator, Robert Alter [2], notes how anomalous this section is: 

This is the one single instance in the entire Bible of extensive verbatim repetition without the slightest variation … Biblical narrative, as we have had many occasions to see, characteristically deploys significant swerves from verbatim repetition as it approximately repeats strings of phrases and whole clauses and sentences. This passage, however, is manifestly not narrative, but a kind of epic inventory. 

In simple terms the question is: Why did the Torah repeat the list of these twelve identical offerings verbatim when it only needed to list them once? 

The Simple Answer 

The most straightforward answer is given by several commentators, namely, that the Torah wanted to stress the absolute equality of the leaders and their offerings, for them and for us. The Bechor Shor [3] states that this was the reason why each leader was given his own day and why his offering was spelled out in detail, despite it being identical with the others: 

“one leader each day” – in order to give honor to the leaders, that each one would have his day; so too, a section [describing the offering] was written for each one of them, so that they would not become jealous of one another – for it could have written the first section and then said, “Thus did so-and-so, and thus so-and-so.” 

The Ramban [4] offers a similar explanation: 

The best reason for Scripture [stating each leader’s offering separately] is that Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu apportions honor to those who fear Him, as it was said: “for I honor those who honor Me” (I Shmuel 2:30). Now, all the leaders brought on the same day this offering upon which they agreed together, but it was impossible that one should not precede his fellow [in the actual offering. Therefore, Hashem] honored those that had precedence in the arrangement [of the camp] with precedence in the days [of offering,] but He wanted to mention them by name and their offerings in detail and to mention each one’s day, rather than [simply] mentioning and honoring the first one, [saying:] “This is the offering of Nachshon ben Aminadav” and [then] saying: “And so the leaders offered, each man on his day,” since that would have been an affront to the others’ honor. And afterwards He went and combined them [by stating the total quantities of the offerings] to teach that all of them were equal before Him, blessed is He. And thus [the Sages] said there in Sifrei: “Scripture teaches that just as [the leaders] were all equal with regard to the idea [of these offerings,] so were they equal with regard to the merit.” 

Alter [5] also favors this approach, depicting the Torah’s intended rhetorical effect as follows: 

Each of the tribes, here accorded absolutely equal status before the sanctuary without political hierarchy, brings exactly the same offering. One can readily imagine that the members of each tribe in the ancient audience of this text would be expected to relish the sumptuousness of its own tribal offering exactly equal to all the others, as it hears the passage read. 

Yet, as reasonable as this objective may be, was it really necessary to “waste” 726 needless words simply in order to demonstrate the equality of the tribal leaders? Surely the Torah could have found a more verbally efficient way to convey the same sentiment. For example, Chazal [6] interpret the Torah’s extremely concise statement: “and the sons of Yaakov were twelve” (Bereishis 35:22)to teach that all of them are equal.” Likewise, on the pasuk: “they are Aharon and Moshe” (Shemos 6:26), Rashi [7] observes that “in some places Moshe precedes Aharon and in other places Aharon precedes Moshe in order to convey their equality.” So too here: the Torah could have stated the contents of the identical offerings and framed them in a manner which would have conveyed the equality of the tribal leaders. 

Two Midrashic Approaches 

The Abravanel notes that there are two categories of answers given in the midrashic literature: 

In [the midrashic collection] Bamidbar Sinai Rabbah (13:14) they expound “and his offering” in a different manner, saying: “Why did the leaders see fit to bring their offerings in this manner? The Rabbis say: even though their offerings were the same, each one brought them [in order to allude] to great principles, each and every one in accordance with his own intent.” Likewise, Rebbi Shimon (ibid.) expounded: “Why does the pasuk say, ‘from the leaders of Israel’? This teaches that they donated of their own accord.” Consequently, each one’s offering was equal in its value, its quantity, and its weight. In other words, each and every one was motivated by himself to offer these items mentioned in the pasuk in accordance with his own intention, in order to allude to the concepts in his own mind … 

The midrash then proceeds to expound on the symbolism of each leader’s offering in accordance with a specific theme. For example, the tribe of Yehuda is the tribe of malchus (Kingship), and its tribal leader intended each detail of his offering to allude to different ideas about malchus. The tribe of Yissachar was known for its prowess in Torah, and its tribal leader intended each detail of his offering to allude to concepts about Torah. And so on for each of the other ten tribes. After paraphrasing [8] the themes of each of these offerings based on this midrash, the Abravanel concludes: 

The general thrust of this view is that each of the leaders made his offering in accordance with his own intentions which differed from the intentions of the other leaders. Thus, their offerings were the same, but their intentions were different

Next, the Abravanel cites an opposing view stated in the same midrash: 

However, Rebbi Pinchas ben Yair held that all of the leaders had a single intention and a single allusion in mind, namely, [that their offerings] correspond to the generations from Adam ha’Rishon until the Mishkan. 

For example, the first item in the offering was “one silver bowl (kaaras kesef), a hundred and thirty shekels its weight.” The phrase “kaaras kesef” has a numerical value of which is 930, which represents Adam ha’Rishon who lived for 930 years. The fact that there was only one such bowl represents Chava, since she was created from him. Its weight of 130 shekels represents the 130 years that Adam separated from Chava before they reunited and had their third son. The second item in the offering was “one silver basin (mizrak echad), seventy shekels by the sanctuary shekel.” The phrase “mizrak” (from Z.R.Q., meaning “to throw”) represents Noach, who was “thrown out” of the Generation of the Flood. Its weight of 70 shekels corresponds to the 70 nations that emerged from him. And so on. 

Even though I tend to favor pshat, I find that both of these approaches provide a more satisfactory answer to our question than the pshat explanations cited above. If these offerings were intended to convey ideas through the symbolism of their particulars, then the Torah going out of its way to emphasize these particulars is a great way to draw the mind. According to the first midrashic approach, each offering is restated in full because each detail has its own ideational content. According to the second midrashic approach, each offering is restated in full in order to underscore the unanimity of the tribal leaders in their common intent. 

The Methodological Underpinnings of These Midrashic Approaches 

No matter how appealing these symbolic interpretations may be, one cannot help but wonder: “How did the authors of these midrashim know what the tribal leaders intended to symbolize in their offerings?” 

For those who believe that midrashim were given at Sinai, along with the rest of Torah she’baal Peh (the Oral Torah), the answer is simple: mesorah (an oral tradition). But for those who follow the mainstream approach, [9] maintaining that midrashim reflect the views of their authors, the answer is even simpler: the authors of these midrashim didn’t know the intentions of the tribal leaders. Rather, these midrashim reflect their own speculative theories which may or may not correspond to what the tribal leaders actually intended. 

This attempt to find meaning in the details of the leaders’ offerings is reminiscent of an approach mentioned by the Rambam. The Rambam states that it is incumbent upon every person to seek out the reasons for the mitzvos of the Torah. This injunction applies to both categories of mitzvos: to mishpatim, those mitzvos whose reasons are evident, and to chukim, the mitzvos whose reasons are hidden. At the end of Hilchos Me’ilah the Rambam [10] writes: 

It is proper for a person to contemplate the laws of the Holy Torah and to know their ultimate concepts according to his ability. If he doesn't find a reason and doesn't know a cause of something, it should not be less in his eyes, nor should he break forth to ascend to Hashem lest He burst forth against him, nor should he think of it as a mundane matter … a person should not kick against them just because he doesn’t know their reasons, nor should he ascribe matters which are not true onto Hashem, nor should he think about them as he thinks about mundane matters. It was stated in the Torah: “And you shall guard all of my chukim (statutes) and all of my mishpatim (judgments) and you shall do them” (Vayikra 19:37; 20:22). The Sages said that we should apply shmirah (guarding) and asiyah (doing) to chukim in the same manner as mishpatim. The [meaning of] “asiyah” is evident: namely, that we should do the chukim. The [meaning] of “shmirah” is that we must be careful with them and not imagine that they are less than mishpatim. The mishpatim are the mitzvos whose benefits in this world are evident, such as the prohibitions of stealing and murder, and honoring one's father and mother. And the chukim are the mitzvos whose reasons are not evident. The Sages said: “[These are] the statutes that I have inscribed for you, and you do not have permission to be suspicious about them, and man’s yetzer (inclination) confronts him regarding them, and the nations of the world dispute them.” Examples include the prohibition of [eating] pork, meat and milk, the decapitated calf, the red heifer, and the goat which is sent away. 

In this excerpt the Rambam speaks of "finding" the “cause” of the chukim – the actual reasons why they were commanded. In contrast, at the end of Hilchos Temurah [11] he writes: 

Even though all of the chukim of the Torah are [Divine] decrees, as we explained at the end of Hilchos Meilah, it is proper to contemplate them; anything for which you can give a reason, you should give a reason. The Early Sages said that Shlomo ha’Melech understood the majority of reasons for all of the chukim of the Torah. 

All of these matters [in Hilchos Temurah] are to subdue man’s inclination and to correct his character traits. And the majority of the laws of the Torah are but counsels from afar, from the Great Counselor, to correct [our] character traits and to make all [of our] actions upright. Likewise, it is written: “Surely, I have written for you extremely noble things, with counsel and knowledge, to teach you the veracity of true words, so that you may answer words of truth to those who send word to you” (Mishlei 22:20-21). 

Here the Rambam does not speak about finding the “cause” of the chukim. Instead, he states, “anything for which you can give a reason, you should give a reason.” In other words, in contrast to the approach of Hilchos Me'ilah, the approach of Hilchos Temurah is not to attempt to find the actual reason why Hashem commanded us to keep this mitzvah in all of its particulars. Rather, the objective is to ascribe meaning to the structure of this mitzvah in order to transform it from an incomprehensible ritual into “counsels from afar, from the Great Counselor, to correct our character traits and make all of our actions upright.” Whether or not our explanations correspond to the Divine intent is irrelevant. What matters is that our explanation renders the mitzvah into a vehicle for perfection. 

If we were to interpret Chazal’s explanations of the offerings of the tribal leaders as the type of analysis advocated by Hilchos Me’ilah, we would have ample grounds for suspicion. How could the authors of the midrashim know with such precision what the tribal leaders had in mind? But if we understand these midrashim in the sense of Hilchos Temurah, then the ingenuity of these symbolic interpretations becomes a feature, rather than a bug. The more ideas of human perfection we can associate with the details of these chukim and the stronger the association, the better.

These two methods for understanding taamei ha’mitzvos (the reasons for the commandments) ought to be kept in mind whenever one encounters a theory about why the structure of a mitzvah is the way it is. It is easy to dismiss an “explanation” of a mitzvah on the grounds of being speculative if one assumes that the explanation is being offered as a theory about the cause of the mitzvah, in the vein of Hilchos Me’ilah. But if one allows for Hilchos Temurah type explanations, then homiletic creativity is a boon.


[1] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar, Introduction to Chapter 7, Question #8 
[2] Robert Alter, The Five Books of Moses: A Translation with Commentary (2004), pp. 716-717 
[3] Rabbeinu , Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 7:11 
[4] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 7:13 
[5] ibid. Alter adds another explanation: “It is also well to remember that lists and the repetitions they entail constitute an established literary form with its own aesthetic pleasures – as, for example, in the catalogue of the ships in the Iliad or in the cumulative repetitive structures of songs like Had Gadya (‘An Only Kid’) and, more apposite to this catalogue of gifts, ‘On the Twelve Days of Christmas.’” 
[6] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 35:22, paraphrasing Shabbos 55b. 
[7] ibid. Commentary on Sefer Shemos 6:26 
[8] In case you’re wondering about the themes of each tribe, here is the Abravanel’s summary: Zevulun’s is about his partnership with Yissachar, Reuven’s is about saving Yosef, Shimon’s is about the order of the Mishkan, Gad’s is about Amram and his descendents, Ephraim’s is about Yaakov’s blessings of Yosef’s sons, Menashe’s is about Yaakov’s transfer of the bechorah status from Reuven to Yosef, Binyamin’s is about the offspring of Rachel, Dan’s is about Shimshon, Asher’s is about Israel as Hashem’s Chosen People, Naftali’s is about the Avos and Imahos; as you can see, some of these themes are directly connected to the identity of the tribe, whereas others are only loosely connected, or are not apparently connected at all. 
[10] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Avodah, Hilchos Me’ilah 8:8
[11] ibid. Sefer ha'Korbanos, Hilchos Temurah 4:14