englsih vayetze
DEEP INSIDE KEVER RACHEL
According to one view in the Midrash, Rachel passed away before Leah because she offered an answer ahead of her older sister at a crucial moment in their lives (Bereishit Rabba 74). When Yaakov asked his wives, Rachel and Leah, for permission to leave the home of their father and move the family to the Holy Land, Rachel spoke up and gave her assent first. The implication of the Midrash is that her death in childbirth on the way back, near Beit Lechem, should be seen as a punishment for not letting her older sister speak first.
But how are we to reconcile this with an entirely different explanation for the time and place of Rachel’s death given elsewhere in the Midrash (Pesikta Rabbati)? There, we find an elaboration on the Prophet Yirmiyahu’s famous description of Rachel, weeping for her children going off to exile after the destruction of the First Temple (Ch. 31):
Why was Rachel buried in Beth Lechem, not in Ma’arat Hamachpelah? G-d commanded Yaakov to bury her there. For in the future, the Temple will be destroyed and the Jews will go into exile…As they walk on the road to exile, they will reach the tombstone of Rachel and pray over her grave. She will then ask mercy from G-d: “Master of the Universe, listen to my cries and have mercy on my children, or give me a reward for the great difficulty I went through in not revealing to Yaakov that he was marrying Leah to save her from embarrassment.” Immediately, G-d listened to her prayers…
This clearly implies that the reason why Rachel died earlier, and could not be buried in the Ma’arat Hamachpelah – but rather in Beth Lechem on the road to exile – was so that she could plead for her children and redeem them in the future. How, then, can we understand the opinion in the Midrash cited at the outset that this was a punishment for not deferring to her older sister and letting her answer first?
I once heard a beautiful answer to this from a Shabbat guest. But first a bit of background: We know that the Avot observed all the Mitzvos of the Torah, but only in Eretz Yisrael (Ramban). That is why Yaakov allowed himself to marry two sisters after leaving Eretz Yisrael and settling temporarily in Lavan’s home in Padan Aram. We can now reconcile the two Midrashim. Yaakov knew that he could not stay married to both sisters and also fulfill G-d’s directive that he return to Eretz Yisrael. Thus, when he asked his wives if they were willing to move the family back to his homeland, he was asking much more than if they were willing to pack their bags. He was asking his wives if they were willing to put their lives on the line. And Rachel, who spoke up and gave her assent first, essentially sacrificed her life for this holy purpose. This is why she was buried on the side of the road leading to exile. She is the only one of the Patriarchs or Matriarchs who can approach G-d and say “I gave up my life in order for my spouse to merit being in theLand ofIsrael. How, then, can You not allow them (my children) to return?”
True Love
We find a perplexing passuk with regard to Yaakov’s love for Rachel. In describing the seven years Yaakov was forced to wait before he could marry Rachel, the Torah tells us: He felt that they were like just a few days due to his love for her (Bereishit 29:20). Now, isn’t just the opposite true!? When a person loves someone or even something, but is temporarily blocked in one way or another, the result is usually a bad case of longing. When a wedding is delayed, for example, this can cause anxiety until the day actually arrives. Time seems to go forward more slowly than a turtle. How, then, can we understand that out of the great love Yaakov had for his future wife Rachel, it felt like “just a few days”?
R’ Eliyahu Lopian zt”l would explain that most people misunderstand the real meaning of love. Love should not be seen as a pleasant experience in the company of a person who is pleasant to be around. True love is the feeling that a person wants to contribute to and be of assistance to, or please and gratify, the beloved. This is the Hebrew definition of the word loveאהבה) ). This word comes from the root הב, meaning to give. Love is a verb, not an experience or state of being. The concept expressed by the words “I’m in love” or “falling in love” is not a Jewish one. “Falling in love” is not usually a choice one has made. But the love that the Torah refers to is a choice.
The seven years that Yaakov worked for Rachel felt like just a few days, because Yaakov’s love for her was for her – and not for himself. On the other hand, when someone is awaiting pleasure, seven years feels like eternity. When someone is “in love”, that is, not the Torah concept of love, each day that passes when the “lovebirds” are not together feels like sitting in jail. Thus, the passuk is telling us that Yaakov’s love for Rachel was of a spiritual quality.”
How can one know what kind of love one has for another person, if it is “falling in love” or true love? Try this test:
If Eliyahu Hanavi would come to you just before your wedding and tell you that your best friend would be a much better spouse for your “intended” than you, what would you do? Would your love for the person you thought was your spouse-to-be impel you to reveal to him or her what Eliyahu Hanavi told you?
Yaakov would have revealed the message, because this was the kind of selfless love that he had for Rachel. He wanted only to give. He wanted only to grow with his spouse, and build the family that he hoped would fulfill Hashem’s Will . This is true love. Jewish love.
Bible Stories
Our Sages teach us that our holy Torah can be understood on four different levels. These levels are represented by the acronym פרד”ס (orchard): the first level is the literal meaning (פשט); the second level – the meaning which is hinted at or alluded to (רמז); the third, homiletical or interpretive meaning (דרש), and the mystical, or occult meaning (סוד). Unfortunately, some people insist on reading the Torah in a narrower way – and often reach the wrong conclusions. There is a verse in Tehillim (32:9) which hints at their narrow-mindedness in not acknowledging all four levels of meaning in the acronymפרד”ס :אל תהיו כסוס כפרד אין הבין (“Do not be like a horse or mule without understanding”). There are those who prefer to understand the Torah on the level of פשט, רמז and דרש, but they reject mystical explanations (סוד). Such people are compared to aפרד (mule), because they accept only the mundane or “this world” meanings, and can’t see that the Torah is also talking about very spiritual and mystical matters. Then, there are those who prefer to see only the kabbalistic or mystical level of סוד, but they do not reckon with the Peshat, Remez, and Derush. They are like theסוס (horse), for they can relate only to the “ס” level, which stands for ” “סוד(mystical explanation). Both approaches are unacceptable because they preclude a full and proper understanding of the Torah – what the verse calls “אין הבין“, not understanding.
Those who mistakenly limit their understanding to the peshat, the literal level, will fall into the trap of seeing the narratives of the Bible as mere stories. In our parashah, for example, we find Yaakov giving a kiss to Rachel when he first saw her. But the kiss had absolutely nothing to do with infatuation! We see this in the otherwise inexplicable fact that Yaakov immediately burst into tears. The Midrash says that he cried because he saw prophetically that she would not be buried together with him in the Ma’arat Hamachpelah. Indeed, if this had really been a kiss of infatuation, then Yaakov would not have been capable of prophetic vision at that moment. Another commentary explains that Yaakov cried because he realized that the shepherds who were watching were disgusted with his behavior, thinking that he was infatuated. He cried at the thought that they looked at him that way. And he cried that in the future, people reading the Torah as “Bible stories” would have the same unfortunately incorrect interpretation as those shepherds.
All this points to the following: We must be cognizant of our Patriarchs’ and Matriarchs’ greatness when we read about their lives in the Torah, and understand actions that seem so similar to our own as being on an entirely different level. Our great ancestors were so different from us – to the extent that they did not even have an Evil Inclination (Bava Batra 17a). This is not necessarily because they were born without one, but because they fought so very hard against it that they eventually neutralized it.
The Talmud tells us: “If our ancestors were like angels, then we are like people. If they are like people, then we are like donkeys” (Shabbat 112b). How, then, can we learn from their lives and their conduct? Rav Yosef Yehudah Leib Bloch, zt”l, explains that even the greatest human beings are still connected to their nature. And thus, we have a lot to learn from them.
For example, the Midrash reveals that another reason for Yaakov’s tears was because he felt terrible about presenting himself empty-handed to his future wife. Now, it is strange for someone of Yaakov’s towering spiritual caliber to get emotional about a material consideration such as this. But that is just the point, R’ Bloch argues. All the emotions and feelings common to all human beings are alive inside the greatest of men, no matter how great they are. Despite Yaakov’s greatness, he still could not separate himself from the emotions that were stirred up at the place where his father’s servant came bearing so many gifts for his mother, while he had come with nothing. Although these emotions did not overwhelm him, he was able to feel them and give expression to them – just like any other human being with a pure heart.
R’ Bloch continues: Leah’s remark to her sister, Rachel, over the mandrakes must be seen in the proper context: “You not only took my husband from me, but you even want to take the mandrakes my son, Reuven, brought home?” We must remember that Leah was a Matriarch. Although there was jealously between the sisters, it was very different from what we mean when we speak about jealousy. Leah was “jealous” of the love and attention she felt that her sister Rachel was getting from her husband Yaakov. But her jealousy stemmed from her anxiety about whether she was going to merit building the Jewish Nation and sanctifying G-d’s Name. She and her sister took this matter to heart, and it ranked highest in their hierarchy of values.
R’ Bloch comments that the desire to sanctify G-d’s Name and publicize it to the world should not make us feel that we must be the one to accomplish it rather than others. Still, he is not sure if someone will be judged and punished for wanting to be the one to sanctify G-d’s Name. And this is what the “jealousy” of Leah and Rachel was about. It was nothing personal, nothing to do with the “self” that we relate to. R’ Shach, zt”l, once gently reprimanded a childless father for commenting that his difficulty over having no children was similar to the difficulty of Rachel, when she said to her husband: “Give me children, otherwise I will die.” R’ Shach asked him: “Did Rachel cry for children as we would cry over being childless – or was it out of her deep desire for being a Mother of the Jewish Nation?”
Although such a lofty conception of “self” is foreign to us, we can draw inspiration from it. And, as we have explained, we must be very cautious not to relate to the Avot and Imahot as if they were just like us.
