Yosef Will Close Yaakov's Eyes

   As Yaakov makes his way toward Egypt, where he would spend the rest of his life, God appears to him in a prophetic dream to offer reassurance.  God promises the patriarch that he – actually, his descendants – will eventually return to their homeland, and adds, “and Yosef shall place his hand over your eyes” (46:4).

 

            The simplest explanation of this phrase, it would seem, as the Rashbam and Seforno explain, is that Yosef would care for all of Yaakov’s needs in Egypt.  The metaphor of “place his hand over your eyes” means that Yaakov could just keep his eyes closed and not have to look out for himself, because all his needs would be cared for by his son (Seforno).

 

            The Pesikta Zutreta, however, interprets this phrase more literally: “This refers to closing his eyes [atzimat enayim].”  What this means, as Rav Saadia Gaon and Chizkuni explain, is that at the time of Yaakov’s death Yosef would close his eyelids, as was (and still is) the customary practice when a person passes on.  According to Chizkuni, God here guarantees Yaakov that Yosef would be present at his death, and would thus be able to care for his remains in an appropriate and respectful manner (and bring his remains to Canaan for burial).

 

            However, Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda, suggests an allegorical reading of this comment of the Pesikta Zutreta, such that it refers not to the physical act of closing Yaakov’s eyelids, but rather diverting his attention away from troubling sights and thoughts.  God knew that Yaakov would feel distressed upon seeing the humiliating, prejudiced treatment Benei Yisrael would endure in Egypt.  Although the actual period of bondage did not begin until well after Yaakov’s death, nevertheless, even during his lifetime, his children and grandchildren were looked upon with a degree of contempt.  (Thus, for example, we know that the Egyptians would not eat together with Yosef’s brothers – 43:32).  The Pesikta Zutretasuggested reading this verse as a promise that Yosef would “close Yaakov’s eyes” to this discrimination.  Yosef came to Egypt as a slave and soon found himself cast in a dungeon, falsely convicted of a grievous crime.  Ultimately, however, he rose from the lowest depths of despair to the greatest heights of power and honor.  Thus, the story of Yosef would itself turn his father’s mind away from the troubling circumstances that his descendants will encounter. Yosef’s experiences would give Yaakov good reason to look away from this hardship and focus his attention instead on the bright, promising future that awaits Benei Yisrael.  Just as Yosef managed to make his way from the lowest levels of humiliation and hopelessness to the heights of success, so would Benei Yisrael emerge from the mudpits of Egypt and become a strong, proud and thriving nation.

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תחת רגלי האדם

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Why Yosef Wanted his Brothers to be Shepherds

     We read in Parashat Vayigash of the arrival of Yosef’s father and brothers in Egypt, where they settled to escape the hunger they suffered from the drought-ravaged area ofCanaan.  Upon their arrival, Yosef brought five his brothers before Pharaoh, and he instructed them to tell the Egyptian king that they worked as shepherds.  This would result in their confinement to the remote, outlying region of Goshen, since Egyptians did not generally approve of shepherding (see 46:34).  Furthermore, according to one view in the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 95), Yosef made a point of selecting the less burly of his brothers, fearing that Pharaoh might otherwise draft the physically talented men into his military.

 

            It is commonly understood that Yosef wanted his brothers to work in shepherding and avoid the Egyptian military in order that they not become too entrenched in the corrupt society that characterized ancient Egypt.  However, Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda, points to a different factor that motivated these measures:

 

It was preferable for them to work in shepherding, an occupation which the Egyptians viewed with contempt, than working in military service and being respected in their [the Egyptians’] eyes, for they did not pursue honor.  It was preferable for them to earn a living from work which did not afford them much honor than to earn honor through the work of bloodshed.

 

Given the choice, the brothers strongly preferred suffering shame and indignity in Egypt by working as shepherds over earning respect and distinction by joining the military.

 

            Unfortunately, people often afford a disproportionate amount of weight to fame and distinction in charting their course of professional life.  For many, a career is a means of distinguishing oneself, rather than making a meaningful contribution to the world while also supporting one’s family.  The brothers’ preference to work as shepherds should perhaps set an example of prioritizing virtue over fame in selecting a career.  They harbored no ambitions of climbing the social or economic ladders in Egypt, and sought instead to live lives of piety and saintliness.  To that end, they gave preference to a profession that would consign them to social isolation, over the opportunity to rise to hero status in Pharaoh’s army – thus teaching which factors deserve priority in selecting a profession.

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Did Yosef Change his Plans for the Sake of his Egyptian Servants?

    Parashat Vayigash describes the moment when Yosef finally disclosed his identity to his brothers, who until then never imagined that the Egyptian vizier was their younger brother whom they had sold as a slave many years earlier.  The verse that introduces this segment of the narrative is an ambiguous one, which has lent itself to several different interpretations: “Ve-lo yakhol Yosef le-hit’apeik le-khol ha-nitzavim alav va-yikra hotzi’u chol ish mei-alai” – “Yosef could not restrain himself in the presence of all who attended to him, and he called, ‘Bring everyone away from me’” (45:1).

 

The difficulty in this verse involves, mainly, the relationship between the phrase, “Yosef could not restrain himself” and the subsequent phrase – “in the presence of all who attended to him.”  The first indicates that Yosef now revealed himself because he could not, emotionally, withhold his identity any longer.  The second phrase, however, suggests that this lack of restraint somehow relates to the presence of his attendants as he spoke with his brothers.

 

            Rashi explains, “He could not bear to have Egyptians standing with him and listening as his brothers are ashamed when he reveals himself to them.”  According to Rashi, the word “le-hit’apeik” does not mean “restrain”; rather, it means that Yosef could not allow himself to reveal himself to the brothers in the presence of his Egyptian servants.  Thus, this verse does not explain why Yosef chose to reveal his identity at this point.  It simply informs the reader that before Yosef revealed his identity, he ordered everybody else to leave in order to spare his brothers humiliation.

 

            The Radak, by contrast, held that indeed the reason for Yosef’s disclosing his identity at this moment was his inability to restrain his emotions.  Upon hearing Yehuda’s impassioned pleas and his depiction of the pain Binyamin’s absence would cause Yaakov, Yosef broke down.  He therefore quickly ordered all his servants out of the room so that he could reveal himself to his brothers, in private.  (This also appears to be the approach taken by Ibn Ezra).

 

            The Meshekh Chokhma suggests a different explanation, claiming that it was the presence of his Egyptian servants that led Yosef to reveal his identity.  Interestingly, the Meshekh Chokhma follows the approach taken by some commentators that Yosef’s intent throughout this story was to bring his entire family to Egypt and have them bow before him, in fulfillment of his prophetic dreams of his parents and brothers bowing to him.  These dreams’ fulfillment required that Yaakov join his sons in Egypt and bow before Yosef, and this was indeed Yosef’s planned course of action.  However, he was forced to change his plans in light of Yehuda’s emotional petition which was heard by the others in the room.  The Meshekh Chokhma explains:

 

It would not have been proper [to refuse Yehuda’s plea] in the presence of the people standing [in the room] who did not know the entire episode, and he would appear cruel, evil-hearted and merciless.  He thus could not restrain himself because of all those attending to him.

 

It was not Yosef’s emotions that led him to identify himself, but rather the concern for how he would appear to the other Egyptians, who were entirely unaware of his prophetic dreams and plans for their fulfillment.  To them, his treatment of the brothers appeared simply cruel.  Yosef therefore had no choice but to change his course of action – and even suspend his plan of ensuring the realization of his dreams – in order that he not appear sadistic and heartless in the eyes of his Egyptian servants.

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רבים נגד יחידים

 

א. המזמור נחלק לארבעה חלקים: שני החלקים הראשונים והחלק האחרון נחתמים במילה "סלה". החלק הראשון (ב-ג) - תיאור הצרה; החלק השני (ד-ה) - התקווה של המשורר שה' יושיע אותו במהרה; החלק השלישי (ו-ז) - הבטחון שהמשורר חש "כי ה' יסמכני"; והחלק האחרון (ח-ט), שבו שוב מבקש המשורר הושעה מאת ה'. כל חלק במזמור הוא בעל שני פסוקים.

לפי זה המזמור מסודר בצורה כיאסטית:

א. תיאור הצרה והפחד מה"קמים עלי" (ב)/ "אין ישועתה לו בא-להים סלה" (ג)
ב. בטחון בכך שה' יענה למצוקה
ב1. תיאור השלווה והבטחון בכך שה' יעזור למשורר
א1. בקשת הושעה – "קומה ה'" (ח)/ "לה' הישועה על עמך ברכתך" (ט)

הפסקאות נפתחות בכל פעם בהתייחסות למדובר בפסקה. כך הפסקה הראשונה נפתחת ב"ה'" (ב), השנייה "ואתה ה'" (ד), השלישית "אני שכבתי" (ו) והרביעית "קומה ה'" (ח). הפסוק החותם את המזמור מדגיש את ה' במזמור ומכריז "לה' הישועה!" (ט)

ב. התחושה שמשדר המשורר היא שהוא מתמודד לבד עם אויביו, והיחיד שיכול לסייע בידו הוא ה'. רבים קמים עליו להילחם בו או לפרוע בו מחד, ומאידך רבים אומרים לו שא-להים לא יסייע בידו. המוצא היחידי שמוצא המשורר הוא השינה. המשורר ישן ובזמן השינה האדם נמצא לבד, ללא אויבים וללא מקטרגים. כך יכול המשורר להיקשר אל הקב"ה בשנתו "כי ה' יסמכני" (ו) ולבסוף להכריז על כך שבידי ה' להושיע.

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"In My Master's Ear" - Yehuda's Suspicion

        In the opening verse of Parashat Vayigash, Yehuda introduces his plea to Yosef by begging, “Let your servant say something in my master’s ear…”  Several commentators struggle to explain Yehuda’s intent in describing his petition as spoken “in my master’s ear.”

 

            The Beit Halevi suggests a particularly novel and insightful approach, one which sheds new light upon the nature and purpose of Yehuda’s monologue that occupies the first section of this parasha.  According to the Beit Halevi, Yehuda asked Yosef if he could speak to him directly, without the use of an interpreter.  Earlier, in Parashat Miketz (42:23), we are told that the brothers and Yosef (whose identity was unknown to the brothers) spoke via an interpreter, as Yosef concealed his true identity and conducted himself as a native Egyptian.  But now, as Yehuda pleads his case before Yosef in an effort to secure Binyamin’s release, Yehuda begs the Egyptian vizier to allow him to speak with him directly.

 

            The reason, the Beit Halevi explains, is that Yehuda understandably grew suspicious of Yosef’s unreasonably harsh treatment of him and his brothers.  It simply made no sense to him, for example, that the vizier would baselessly accuse them – who, like countless others from across the region, came to Egypt to purchase grain – of spying the country.  Yehuda was further confounded by Yosef’s bizarre obsession with his younger brother, Binyamin, and his demand that he come to Egypt.  In short, the vizier’s conduct toward an innocent family coming to purchase grain aroused Yehuda’s suspicion that perhaps the interpreter was not doing his job properly, that inaccurate translation led to Yosef’s otherwise inexplicable charges.

 

            Yehuda therefore approached Yosef and asked to speak to him directly, without the muddling effect of a suspect translation.  His intention, as it emerges from his appeal to Yosef, was simply to review the sequence of events to ensure that there was no miscommunication between the two parties.  Yehuda wanted the vizier to hear with his own ears Yehuda’s account of the brothers’ meetings with Yosef, to ensure that what Yosef heard the first time around is indeed what the brothers had said.

 

            Of course, Yehuda’s inkling proved incorrect, as Yosef had indeed correctly understood everything the brothers had said.  Nevertheless, Yehuda’s appeal to Yosef perhaps reminds us of the importance of proper communication between quarreling parties.  Very often, disagreements and fights result from simple misunderstandings and miscommunication.  Unfortunately, even when the misunderstandings are noted, the scars from the argument remain and do not quickly heal.  Yehuda realized that before locking horns with the Egyptian vizier, he should first check to see if perhaps the situation is the result of a simple misunderstanding.  This should serve as an instructive example for all situations where one considers initiating an argument.  It is advisable to first explore the possibility of a simple misunderstanding, before hurling accusations or initiating any sort of conflict.

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Yaakov's Revival and Conditions for Prophecy

            The Torah in Parashat Vayigash presents the following description of Yaakov’s response upon hearing that his beloved son, Yosef, was alive: “ve-techi ru’ach Yaakov” – “Yaakov’s spirit was revived” (45:27).  A number of sources, including Targum Onkelos and the Midrash Tanchuma, explain this phrase to mean that Yaakov regained his prophetic capabilities.  God withdrew prophecy from Yaakov during the twenty-two years he spent in bereavement, and it was restored once Yaakov learned that Yosef was alive.  The Rambam mentions this understanding of the verse in the seventh chapter of his Shemoneh Perakim, viewing it as proof to the fact that despondency precludes the possibility of experiencing prophecy.  Although a prophet can experience prophecy in a state of spiritual imperfection, the Rambam writes, prophecy is not possible in a state of unhappiness or grief.

 

            The simplest explanation for the indispensability of joy and contentment in achieving prophecy, perhaps, is that it denies a person the peace of mind and clarity of thought that prophecy demands.  Intense concentration is among the critical prerequisites to the experience of prophecy, and despondent people are generally incapable of this level of concentration, preoccupied as they are with their distress.  It is for this reason, perhaps, that a prophet can only experience prophecy in a state of general contentment and while in good spirits.

 

            There may, however, be another reason for why a prophet cannot behold a prophetic vision while experiencing sorrow.  Namely, one is not receptive to the divine word if he looks negatively upon life, or upon the world.  God’s instructions can be heard only if one feels encouraged by the opportunities that life presents, and by the possibility of improving it and infusing it with meaning and purpose.  The sense of disillusionment and cynicism that generally accompanies sorrow and grief is inherently incompatible with prophecy, with accepting God’s commands.  A person can receive God’s word only if he looks upon life with hopeful optimism, as a field filled with opportunities, rather than disappointment.  God calls to people who are prepared to listen and eagerly embrace the opportunities He gives them for personal growth and for enhancing the world.

 

            In this same chapter of Shemona Perakim, the Rambam notes that anger, like unhappiness, also denies a prophet the possibility of experiencing prophecy.  He cites as an example the story told (Melakhim II 3) of the prophet Elisha, who had a musician play music for him so he could experience prophecy.  The Sages explain that Elisha required music to alleviate the anger he experienced upon seeing the idolatrous king Yehoram, which precluded the possibility of achieving prophecy.

 

            Anger, like grief, makes one unreceptive to the divine word because he resents the world’s imperfections, rather than embracing the challenge they pose.  The ideal response to the sight of evil is not anger, but rather the determination to act to improve the world in whichever way one can.  A technician does not grow angry and resentful upon being presented with a malfunctioning appliance; he happily welcomes the opportunity to put his skills to productive use, to make his small contribution to the world.  Ideally, this should be our response to the evils and evildoers of the world.  Rather than become despondent, angry or embittered, we should welcome the invitation God extends to us to take part in the world’s development by making whatever small improvements we can.  Accepting the divine command presumes an eager willingness to engage the world in its current state of imperfection, rather than resenting or lamenting its current state of imperfection.  The experiences of Yaakov and Elisha demonstrate the importance of remaining upbeat and retaining a positive outlook upon life despite its problems and challenges, and being prepared to accept God’s instructions for making the world a better place.

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Distance or Closeness - Chizkuni on Why Yosef Wanted his Brothers to be in Goshen

       The Torah in Parashat Vayigash tells of Yaakov’s family’s relocation in Egypt.  When they arrived, Yosef sought to ensure that Pharaoh would allow them to live in the region of Goshen.  He specifically instructs his brothers that when they come before the Egyptian king, they should emphasize that they work as shepherds, so that Pharaoh would decide to put them in Goshen, “for all shepherds are abominable for Egypt” (46:34).

 

            Several different explanations have been offered for why Yosef specifically wanted his brothers and father to reside in Goshen.  The most common understanding, it seems, is that Yosef sought to lower the chances of the family’s assimilation.  Perhaps sensing that the family, which would soon become a nation, would be remaining in Egypt for an extended period, Yosef saw to it that they would live separately from the main population centers in Egypt, in order to preserve their independent identity and lifestyle.  Indeed, the Midrash Ha-gadol explicitly comments that Yosef wanted his family to live in Goshen “so that they would not mix with the Egyptians.”

 

            Chizkuni, however, offers a much different – and somewhat surprising – explanation: “Yosef was concerned that if they [his brothers] would become noblemen in Pharaoh’s palace, they would demote him from his high stature, for on account of their jealousy over a striped tunic they sold him.”  According to Chizkuni, Yosef wanted his brothers to live in isolation in order to prevent them from assuming positions of power in the Egyptian government.  It seems that Yosef sensed his brothers’ talents and ability to assert authority.  He feared that if they would begin to rise through the Egyptian political hierarchy, the flames of fraternal jealousy would be reignited, and they would, once again, conspire against him.

 

            Chizkuni’s comments are jarring, and seemingly inconsonant with the festive tone of Parashat Vayigash.  The family’s descent to Egypt appears to have ushered in a new period of reconciliation and trust, with the feelings of envy and resentment left far behind in the pastures outside Shekhem where Yosef was sold as a slave.  According to Chizkuni, however, Yosef’s strategizing to have his brothers sent to Goshen casts a disquieting dark shadow upon this otherwise encouraging and upbeat phase in the family’s history.  Although the family was reunited, tensions and mistrust remained.  Yosef was still – understandably – unable to erase past events from memory.  The suffering he endured as a result of his brothers’ jealousy left a certain barrier, which precluded the possibility of their cooperation in Pharaoh’s government.  Yosef was still wary and suspicious.  Even as he reunited with his brothers, he could not work closely with them.  He could not expose himself to the risk of once again sparking their jealousy.

 

            Yosef’s ongoing suspicion, as noted by Chizkuni, perhaps conveys a number of different lessons concerning conflicts among family members and friends.  Most obviously, the persistent sense of mistrust, despite the festive reunification of the family, should serve as a warning of the often permanent effects of conflict.  Emotional bruises do not always heal completely, and they very often leave permanent scars.  Even after formal reconciliation, the relationship cannot always be restored to what it ways before the fight.  This prospect should serve as an effective deterrent to unnecessary quarreling, and a strong impetus to avoid avoidable conflicts.

 

            Additionally, Yosef’s conduct perhaps teaches the importance of realistic expectations in mending strained relationships.  Others in Yosef’s position may have been too caught up in the excitement of the family’s reunion to foresee the potential risks of a too-close relationship.  Now that the family has come back together, after the brothers’ violent mistreatment of Yosef and the years of separation, we may have expected Yosef to pursue as close a relationship as he could with his brothers.  But Yosef knew better, and his keen sense of pragmatism prevailed over his fantasies of a perfect family dynamic.  A flawless relationship of trust and fraternal love would have provided a fairytale ending to the unfortunate, disturbing story of Yosef and his brothers.  But this was not realistic.  Yosef perceptively understood that in this situation, a distant friendship had far better chances of succeeding than a tight, close-knit fraternal relationship. Strained relationships among friends and family members can usually be repaired, but not always can they be made flawless.  The story of Yosef and his brothers ended on a happy note, but not on a perfect note, demonstrating that success does not depend upon perfection, particularly when dealing with the fragile area of restoring damaged relationships.

 

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For You Are Like Pharaoh

  Parashat Vayigash begins with Yehuda’s plea to Yosef – the Egyptian vizier – to allow Binyamin to return to Canaan despite having been found with the vizier’s goblet.  Yehuda begins by pleading, “Your servant shall, please, speak something in the ears of my master, and do not be angry with your servant, for you are like Pharaoh.”  Yehuda asks the vizier not to “be angry” with him for what he is about to say, explaining, “for you are like Pharaoh.”  Why does Yehuda tell Yosef that he considers him “like Pharaoh,” and why is this a reason for Yosef not to grow angry with him?

 

            The Rashbam explains, “You are like a king, and I am afraid of your anger.”  Meaning, Yehuda makes mention of Yosef’s royal stature not to explain why he should not grow angry, but rather to explain why he asks the vizier not to grow angry.  He recognizes that he speaks to a powerful man, and he therefore fears the consequences of his brazen petition.  (This is also the explanation offered by Chizkuni.)

 

            The Ramban explains differently: “‘For you are like Pharaoh’ – and I am speaking before you with great reverence, as though I was speaking before Pharaoh.”  According to this interpretation, Yehuda tells Yosef not to be angry because he speaks reverently.  Although it might be considered brazen to demand that Binyamin be released, the respect and reverence with which he speaks demonstrates that he does not intend to challenge Yosef’s royal authority or show him disrespect.

 

            Rav Yitzchak Kunstadt of Pressburg, in his Luach Erez (Vienna, 1915), suggested a different possible interpretation of this verse.  Yehuda tells Yosef that he should not take offense from his petition, because, after all, he is “like Pharaoh.”  A person in a high position should feel secure enough in his stature to tolerate minor infractions upon his honor.  Yosef, as the empire’s vizier, had no reason to feel threatened by Yehuda, even if he speaks firmly and critically.  Yosef’s royal stature was thus not a reason for him to grow angry with Yehuda for presenting his demands, but rather, the contrary, a reason for him to hear Yehuda’s plea with patience and understanding.

 

            We are perhaps well advised to keep in mind this phrase – “ki kamokha ke-Pharaoh” – when we feel slighted or insulted, or upon hearing critical remarks from our peers.  Human beings are all created in the divine image, and all members of Am Yisrael have the status of “children of the Almighty” (Avot 3:14).  We should feel too important and distinguished to be rattled by an insulting remark, or by not being accorded the respect we perhaps deserve, or think we deserve.  The more respect and regard we have for ourselves, the less disturbed we will be when we do not receive the respect and regard of others.  If we remind ourselves that “ki kamokha ke-Pharaoh,” and keep in mind our “royal” stature in the eyes of the Almighty, we will be unaffected by perceived insults, and will remain confident and upbeat regardless of the respect afforded to us by our peers – or lack thereof.

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מהו מקור הרע בעולם?

 

האדם ניחן במתנת הבחירה, וגדולה היא מתנה זו שעל ידה שולט רצונו של האדם במעשי הבורא. סגולה זו מעמידה את האדם על פרשת דרכים. דרך אחת המוליכה אל הטוב, והשנייה – אל הרע. אם יבחר בחטא ובמרי הרי באה רעה לעולם, נמצא שהרע נברא על-ידי מעשה האדם. אין לרע איפוא שורש מטפורי או קוסמי-קדמון אלא מקורו על המישור המוסרי.

אולם חופש הבחירה המוסרית שניתן לאדם אינו מסלק את השגחת האלוקים. אדרבה, האדם נקרא אל העשייה והיצירה, אל המעשה המוסרי כשעין צופה ומתבוננת על כל הנעשה. "ה' משמים השקיף על בני אדם לראות היש משכיל, דורש את אלוקים" (ב).

אמונה זו בבורא משגיח היא יסודית הן לישראל והן לאומות העולם, והיא אף יסוד המוסר האנושי. בבראשית כ' פסוק יא אומר אברהם: "רק אין יראת אלוקים במקום הזה והרגוני על דבר אשתי", הרי שאמונת הבורא היא המונעת את עובדי האלילים מרצח וכן יוסף בדברו אל האישה המצרית האלילית בבראשית ל"ט פסוק ט: "ואיך אעשה הרעה הגדולה הזאת וחטאתי לאלקים".

על רקע זה מוסברות גם דמויותיהם של הרשע והצדיק בספר תהילים. הצדיק הוא זה המאמין באלוקים ומכוון את אורחות חייו על-פי הנחת יסוד זאת. מעשיו הם מוסריים. ואילו הרשע הוא הכופר בקיום הבורא, וממילא במציאות משגיח, ופורע חוק ומוסר.

מקור הרע הוא איפוא באדם. זה שהשתמש במתנת הבחירה כדי לכפור בנותן המתנה, והרי הוא עומד, נבל זה, בעולם שאין בו אלוקים ומשחית את דרכו בתועבות.

ובניגוד לתפיסה זו אומר המזמור: "ה' משמים השקיף על בני אדם" (ב).

השקפה-השגחה זו יש בה שתיים: על היחיד ועל הלאום. אפשר שהצדיקים הם הנקראים "עמי", ונושא פרק י"ד הוא סוציאלי, על הרע השולט בחברה, כפירושו של פרופ' קויפמן, ואפשר שהרקע של המזמור הוא לאומי, כדרכם של הפרשנים הקדמונים, ויכול להיות שיש בפרק משתי הגישות כדעתו של פרופ' הרטום, שכלל העם סובל מהרשעים ולכן הסיום הוא כללי.


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