מלחמת אחים
סיפור ה'פילֶגֶש (שהופקרה, נאנסה ונרצחה) בַּגִבעה' (שופטים י"ט-כ') הוא מלחמת האחים הראשונה בישראל, ואחריו היו עוד ועוד (יפתח; שאול ודוד; פילוג המלוכה; אָסָא ובַעְשָא; מרד יֵהוא; יואש ואמציהו), והנה מביא לנו הושע עוד סיפור בלתי ידוע, ששאב 'השראה', מהמלחמה על 'הגִבעה' (ה', ח-י):
תִקְעוּ שופר בַּגִבעה, חֲצֹצְרה בָּרָמה,
הריעו בית אָוֶן, אַחֲרֶיךָ בנימין (לתקוף את בית-אל, ואת אפרים)
אפרים לְשַמה תִהיֶה ביום תוֹכֵחה,
בשִבטֵי ישראל הוֹדַעתי נֶאֱמָנה;
היו שָׂרֵי יהודה כְּמַסיגֵי (=אכן, מַסיגֵי) גְבוּל...
כל זה קרה מתי? כשבית יֵהוא קָרַס - זכריהו בן ירבעם מלך בשומרון "שִשה חֳדָשים" ונרצח על ידי "שַלֻם בן יָבֵש" (מֵהגלעד), שמלך "יֶרַח ימים בשֹמרון", ונרצח בידי "מנחם בן גדי מִתִרצה" (מל"ב ט"ו, ח-יד) -
עתה יֹאכְלֵם (מלך של) חֹדֶש*,
את חֶלקֵיהֶם (=כל חלקה טובה; ה', ז);
מלחמת האחים בתוך ממלכת ישראל השתוללה בעיקר בין הגלעד, לבין השומרון, וגם כוהני הבמות היו מעורבים בה (ו', ח-י) -
גלעד קִריַת פֹּעֲלֵי אָוֶן עֲקֻבָּה מִדָם;
וּכְחַכֵּי איש (=וכֵן, מַאֲרָבים היו מְחַכּים), גדודים,
חֶבֶר כֹּהנים, דֶרֶך יְרַצְחוּ שֶכְמה (=בדרך לשְכֶם)...
בבית ישראל ראיתי שַעֲרוּרְיה...
מה שלא כתוב במלכים, והושע משלים - שֶשָׂרֵי יהודה ניצלו את האנרכיה הפנימית בישראל להתקפה על בית-אל ואפרים, אולי מתוך הכעס על פילוג המלוכה ועל המקדש בבית-אל, וכנראה גם כנקמה על פריצת חומת ירושלים על ידי יואש מלך ישראל (אחרי המלחמה בבית שמש; שם י"ד, יא-יד).
וכל זה, כאשר צבאות אשור עומדים בשערי הארץ, בין מִצפֶּה גלעד לבין התבור - "כי פַח הֱיִיתֶם למִצפָּה, ורֶשֶת פְּרוּשָׂה על תבור, ושַחֲטה שֵׂטים (בורות מלאים גופות הרוגים) הֶעֱמיקוּ" (ה', א-ב).
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*כפירוש המלבי"ם.
באדיבות אתר 929
Descendants of Kayin vs. Shet
We noted the two genealogical lines that the Torah presents side-by-side toward the end of Parashat Bereishit, namely, the descendants of Kayin, and the descendants of his younger brother, Sheit.
Rav Amnon Bazak observed that a careful comparison between the two lists reveals a number of obvious similarities, as well as significant differences. The similarities lay primarily in resemblances between names. For one thing, both Kayin and Sheit had descendants named Chanokh (4:17, 5:18) and Lemekh (4:18, 5:25). In addition, the name of Kayin’s grandson Irad (4:18) resembles that of Sheit’s descendant Yered (5:15). Rav Bazak also noted the resemblances between the names Mechuyael (4:18) and Mahalalel (5:12), and between Metushael (4:18) and Metushelech (5:21).
On the other hand, an attentive reader will notice a basic difference between the two accounts, in terms of the mention of God. In the genealogical record of Sheit’s descendants, we find God mentioned on a number of occasions. First, we are told that during the time of Sheit’s son, Enosh, “huchal li-kro be-Shem Hashem” (4:26), which, according to some commentators, means that people began turning to God in prayer during this period. Noach’s father, Lemekh, expressed his hope for relief from the hard work entailed in tilling “the land which the Lord cursed” (5:29). And Lemekh’s grandfather, Chanokh, is described as “walking with God” (5:22).
The listing of Kayin’s descendants, by contrast, includes no mention of God. Rav Bazak explains God’s Name’s absence from this section in light of the theme of industrial development that quite clearly characterizes the period in question. As we noted yesterday, the Torah makes a point of mentioning a number of important inventions made by some of Kayin’s descendants. Additionally, the Torah here records that Kayin himself built a city. The emphasis on invention and creativity, coupled with the absence of God’s Name, might lead us to conclude that this period was marked by an arrogant sense of self-sufficiency and pride in human ambition and enterprise. As opposed to people like Lemekh, who recognized God’s control over the earth and recognized mankind’s limitations, the descendants of Kayin took undue pride in their achievements and overlooked God’s authority over them and the world.
Rav Bazak added that this attitude may underlie the comments of Kayin’s descendant Lemekh, who attempted to minimize the severity of a murder he committed (4:23-24). Rather than humbly submitting to divine justice, Lemekh found comfort in the forgiveness granted to Kayin after his act of murder, and assured himself that he, too, would be spared punishment. This also might reflect a certain hubris that appears to have been characteristic of this age, the people’s unwillingness to subject themselves to God’s authority, and to instead see themselves as self-sufficient masters over the earth.
The Purpose of Kayin's Geneologies
After the narrative of Hevel’s murder at the hands of his brother, the Torah in Parashat Bereishit presents a brief genealogical record of the descendants of Kayin, the killer and surviving brother. Thereafter, the Torah lists the descendants of Sheit, another son of Adam and Chava, concluding with the birth of Noach.
One might wonder why the Torah goes through the trouble of listing several generations of Kayin’s descendants. The listing of Sheit’s genealogical line was necessary in order to reach Noach, the protagonist of the subsequent narrative and the man who essentially became the father of all mankind, after the deluge. Kayin’s descendants, however, did not survive the flood, and there thus seems to be little reason to trace this genealogical line.
One simple answer, perhaps, relates to the cultural and industrial developments with which a number of Kayin’s descendants are credited. Kayin himself built a city (4:17), and a number of his descendants are described as making important contributions in areas such as farming, music and metal work (4:20-22). For this reason, perhaps, the Torah reviews the descendants of Kayin, to tell of the gradual process of industrialization and development that mankind underwent during this period.
We might point to another, perhaps more subtle, purpose, as well. The Torah writes that Chava named her third son Sheit because she responded to her birth by proclaiming, “Shat li Elokim zera acheir tachat Hevel’ – “God has given me another offspring, in place of Hevel” (4:25). Sheit was seen as a “replacement” of Hevel. After Hevel’s murder, Adam and Chava responded by begetting another son, by filling the void left by Hevel’s death. Rather than despairing, they continued their work of populating the earth as God had commanded. They could have easily just given up, seeing how quickly and brutally a life can be taken. But instead of allowing this tragic setback to discourage them, they persisted, in the confident hope that their new son would mark the fulfillment of the dreams that were left shattered by Kayin’s bloodshed.
Sure enough, not only did Sheit survive and beget children, but it was he who became the father of all mankind. Noach emerged from the line of Sheit’s descendants, whereas Kayin’s were eradicated from the face of the earth during the flood. Adam and Chava’s heroic decision to move on, to persist, to retain their optimism and resolve in the face of tragedy, is what ensured the survival of mankind. The boy who was described as “taking the place” of Hevel, who embodied the virtues of persistence and perseverance, ultimately begot Noach, the only survivor of the flood, and in this way became the father of all people.
By presenting side-by-side the genealogical lines of Kayin and Sheit, the Torah perhaps emphasizes the point that specifically the latter’s line produced Noach, and thus, by extension, produced all humankind. As opposed to Kayin’s line, which ended with the flood, the line of Sheit, the product of Adam and Chava’s perseverance, continued, and continues even to this day, thereby underscoring the importance of persistence, of never despairing, of working to fulfill our duties despite heartbreaking setbacks.
How Could Adam Eat from the Tree?
Rav Chayim in Volozhin, in his Nefesh Ha-chayim (1:6), discusses the transition that took place within the nature of man after Adam's sin in the Garden of Eden. The tree from which Adam and Chava partook is called the etz ha-da'at tov va-ra – "the tree of knowledge of good and evil" (2:9,17). This is commonly understood to mean that partaking of this tree instills within a person an evil inclination, a proclivity towards sinful conduct. Whereas before the sin Adam was pure, free of lustful desires for sinful pleasures, after partaking from the forbidden tree he found himself drawn after physical gratification. However, this explanation gives rise to the obvious question of how Adam was driven to partake of the forbidden fruit in the first place. If man's evil tendency entered his being only after the sin, then how did the sin occur to begin with?
Rav Chayim claimed that undoubtedly, man possessed free will to choose between good and evil even before the sin. However, Rav Chayim writes, his ability to do evil was not part of his essence; it was not an instinctive, natural tendency as it became after his sin. He compares Adam's free will before the sin to the free will each of us possesses to cast oneself into fire. Of course, each person has the physical capability to do such a thing. Clearly, however, there is no internal suicidal instinct. Whatever might compel a person to jump into fire stems from an external force, rather than from an instinctive impulse. Thus, although Adam certainly had the freedom to choose between good and evil even before the sin, the lure of evil was external to his being, as opposed to an internal force within him, as it is now.
Still, the question remains, what was that external force that tempted Adam and led him to commit the sin?
Rav Eliyahu Dessler, in his Mikhtav Mei-eliyahu (vol. 2, Parashat Bereishit), suggests that at least on one level, Adam was lured by the temptation of challenge. He felt he could achieve far more if he would experience the inner drive to sin and then resist it. Adam thought that religious life without an instinctive, sinful tendency is too easy, too simple, and does not reflect a deeply-ingrained sense of subservience to God. He figured he could reach greater achievements by experiencing the sinful instinct and then working to suppress it. Adam's tragic mistake was underestimating the force of the yetzer ha-ra to which he willfully exposed himself, or overestimating his strength to resist it.
More generally, Rav Dessler adds, Adam succumbed to the yetzer ha-ra of curiosity. Man is by nature enchanted by the unknown and the mysterious. The "external force" of which Rav Chayim of Volozhin spoke perhaps refers to this enchantment with uncharted waters, the natural desire to behold or experience that which lies beyond one's familiar world. Even if Adam felt no physical drive to partake of the forbidden fruit, he was likely drawn after his curiosities, the drive for "adventures" and new experiences. This yetzer ha-ra existed within him even before his sin, and is responsible for the fall that occurred as a result of that sin. As punishment for succumbing to his curiosities, Adam – and all mankind – was destined to live in a constant state of exposure to the instincts Adam wished to experience, and we must forever struggle with those internal drives and restrain them to obey God's law.
The Cry of Sodom
The Torah in Parashat Vayera (18:20) tells of God’s decision to eradicate the sinful city of Sedom: He tells Avraham, “The cry of Sedom and Amora is so great, and their sin is so grave. I shall go down and see if its cry warrants its annihilation…” The Radak, among others, explains the “cry” (“za’akat”) mentioned in this verse as referring to the cries of the oppressed victims of Sedom’s cruel society. God announced that He would assess the level of cruelty in Sedom and its surrounding towns to determine whether the people of the region were deserving of annihilation.
Commenting on this verse in his Divrei Shaul (Mahadura Tinyana), Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson writes that the “cry” of victims is often exaggerated. Occasionally, people who have endured a minor offense or sustained a small financial loss due to somebody else’s wrongdoing overreact and “cry” as though they endure a grave crisis. This, Rav Nathanson suggests, is the meaning of this verse, in which God informs Avraham of His considerations regarding Sedom. The piercing cries rising from the victims of Sedom were indeed significant, but these cries did not necessarily testify to severe oppression. God said He needed to “go down and see if its cry warrants its annihilation,” if the cries of pain truly signal that the society is overrun by cruelty.
Of course, as we know, God quickly determined that indeed, the cries arising from Sedom were genuine and a true testament to the society’s heartlessness, that the people were cruel and ruthless, and thus deserving of destruction. However, Rav Nathanson’s explanation of this verse reminds us that not all “cries” are accurate reflections of the injustice committed. Although God hears the pained cries of victims of torment and oppression (Shemot 22:22-23), this is true only of cries which are commensurate with the pain inflicted. We are to avoid exaggerated “cries” of victimhood. Not every injustice deserves the response of the victims of Sedom’s crimes. Some offenses can and should be handled with maturity and grace, without excessive “cries.” God reacts harshly to oppression, but pays no heed to false or exaggerated cries of victimhood. The fate of Sedom was sealed only after God determined that the victims’ cries were genuine and real, teaching us that not all “cries” are justified, and that we must avoid exaggerated responses to slight offenses.
The Exodus of Lot and the Exodus of Bnei Yisrael
We read in Parashat Vayera of the two angels who went to Sedom to rescue Lot and his family ahead of the city’s destruction. The Torah tells that Lot saw the angels – who appeared as men – and invited them into his home, where he prepared for them a meal and baked matzot(19:3). Rashi comments that this occurred on Pesach, which is why Lot prepared matzot for his guests.
Rashi’s comment draws our attention to a subtle parallel that exists between the story of Lot’s rescue from Sedom and the story of the night of the Exodus from Egypt. Both events involve a supernatural calamity visited by God upon a sinful population to punish them for their crimes, while rescuing a small segment of the population.
Intriguingly, in both instances, the rescued group was spared in the merit of Avraham. Summarizing the destruction of Sedom, the Torah writes, “It happened that when God destroyed the cities of the plain, God remembered Avraham, and he sent Lot from the upheaval…” (19:29). Somewhat similarly, the process of the Exodus began when “God remembered His covenant with Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov” (Shemot 2:24) Neither Lot nor Benei Yisrael deserved to be rescued, but they were spared in the merit of Avraham (and, in Benei Yisrael’s case, also in the merit of Yitzchak and Yaakov).
At the same time, however, it appears that both groups needed to perform an act that set them apart from the condemned population in order to be rescued. Lot hosted two wayfarers, in violation of Sedom’s strict policy forbidding all charitable conduct, placing his life at risk, and Benei Yisrael slaughtered sheep as a sacrifice to God, loudly and boldly rejecting the Egyptians’ pagan belief, which held the sheep to be sacred, thus potentially putting their lives at risk. Lot and his family needed to be grabbed by the angels and pulled out of Sedom (19:16), just as the Egyptians frantically drove Benei Yisrael out of their country (Shemot 12:33). We might also add that in Sefer Bamidbar (20:16; see Rashi), Moshe is referred to as an “angel” who led Benei Yisrael from Egypt – parallel to the angels who rescued Lot.
Of course, there are several significant differences between these two events, as well. Primarily, whereas Benei Yisrael faithfully obeyed the instructions relayed to them by their “angel,” Lot and his family were far less trusting and cooperative. The Torah tells that Lot’s sons-in-law scoffed at the prediction of the city’s annihilation (19:14), and Lot himself tarried until morning, rather than promptly obeying the angels’ command to evacuate the city (19:16).
Benei Yisrael, by contrast, fully complied with God’s instructions concerning the night of the Exodus: “The Israelites went ahead and did as the Lord had commanded Moshe and Aharon…” (Shemot 12:28).
Additionally, after Lot left the city, he “negotiated” with the angels regarding his destination. The angels urged him to flee westward to the hills, but Lot asked if instead they could spare one of the condemned cities around Sedom – Tzoar – so he could seek refuge there (19:20). The angels agreed and ordered Lot to immediately flee to Tzoar, but Lot quickly changed his mind, and, fearing that Tzoar might also be destroyed, decided to journey from Tzoar to the hills (19:30).
All this stands in dark contrast to Benei Yisrael, who faithfully and unquestioningly followed God’s cloud and pillar and fire upon departing Egypt, even as He led them to the shores of the Sea of Reeds and then into the desert.
As God would later proclaim through the prophet Yirmiyahu (2:2), “I remember for you the kindness of your youth, your bridal love, when you followed Me into the wilderness, into an uncultivated land.” While Lot was suspicious of the divine agent sent to rescue him, Benei Yisrael placed their trust in God’s messenger, firm in their belief that he would bring them exactly where they needed to be, and that as long as they followed God’s commands, they were guaranteed His protection and blessing.
God's Knock on Avraham's Door
Parashat Vayera begins with God appearing to Avraham “as he sat by the entrance of the tent at the heat of the day,” which was followed by the arrival of the three angels who informed him that Sara would be soon bearing him a son. We make mention of this event in one of the hymns traditionally recited at the seder on Pesach (in the Diaspora, it is recited on the second night), “Va-amartem Zevach Pesach.” This hymn, which was composed by Elazar Ha-kalir, lists numerous Biblical events which, according to Midrashic tradition, took place on Pesach. One of these events is God’s visit to Avraham and the arrival of the three angels, which tradition teaches occurred on the date that would later be designated as the festival of Pesach. Elazar Ha-kalir writes in describing God’s revelation to Avraham, “Delatav dafakta ke-chom ha-yom ba-Pesach” – “You knocked upon his doors at the heat of the day, on Pesach.”
While the anthropomorphic image of God “knocking” upon Avraham’s doors may simply be a poetic way of describing His visit to the patriarch, nevertheless, it is perhaps worthwhile to consider the possible implications of this description. Generally, this imagery is used in reference to somebody begging to enter a place where he is not necessarily invited or welcome. In Shir Hashirim (5:2), for example, the maiden describes how her beloved knocked on her door in the middle of the night as she slept, begging her to open it and allow him in, but she lazily refused to rise from her bed. Similarly, we open our Selichot prayers by crying, “We have knocked upon Your doors, O compassionate and gracious One; please, do not turn us back empty handed from You.” We acknowledge that we are unworthy of coming before the Almighty to ask for His forgiveness, and we therefore meekly “knock” on His “door” in the hopes that in His unlimited compassion and grace, He will let us in and allow us to pour out our hearts before Him. With this in mind, we might wonder if perhaps there is significance to Elazar Ha-kalir’s choice of imagery in depicting Avraham’s prophetic vision. Why would God be described as “knocking” on Avraham’s “door”? Did He have to beg Avraham to “let Him in”? Is there any reason why God would have to “knock”?
Possibly, this imagery expresses the idea that God never comes into a person’s life without his “opening the door.” Even Avraham Avinu did not receive prophecy automatically, passively, without exerting effort. When God came to speak to him, he needed to “open the door,” to work actively to facilitate the prophetic vision. He could not remain passive and just listen; he needed to make an effort to hear and internalize the divine word. The message, then, is that our relationship with God will always require proactive effort. Inspiration is never received passively or easily. If we want to build and maintain a deep, meaningful connection with the Almighty, we need to “open the door,” to invest effort to allow Him into our lives, without expecting this to happen on its own.
אפרים, הבן האהוב
שלושים ושבע פעמים פונה הנביא הושע לעם בכינוי "אפרים". אבל רק בפרק י"א, מתפרש השם "אפרים" בדרך המבטאת אהבה.
(א) כי נער ישראל ואהבהו וממצרים קראתי לבני:
(ב) קראו להם כן הלכו מפניהם לבעלים יזבחו ולפסלים יקטרון:
(ג) ואנכי תרגלתי לאפרים קחם על זרועתיו ולא ידעו כי רפאתים:
(ד) בחבלי אדם אמשכם בעבתות אהבה, ואהיה להם כמרימי על על לחיהם ואט אליו אוכיל:
אפרים מופיע בפרק כנער שובב, שאוהבים אותו, ואי אפשר להענישו על חטאי נעוריו.
אפרים בנו של יוסף, נבחר ע"י יעקב להיות בכור בניו של יוסף, למרות שאיננו הבכור הטבעי.
עם ישראל מכונה "אפרים" - הבכור הנבחר, הבכור האהוב. ובכור זה כשהוא עוזב את אביו, אין האב יכול להענישו. והוא מתנודד בין אהבה וכעס. ויחס אמביולנטי זה יוצר דיאלוג מיוחד במינו בין ה' לישראל, בין הנביא לאפרים הפונה לו עורף.
גם ירמיהו מדגיש אמביולנטיות זו:
שמוע שמעתי אפרים מתנודד
יסרתני ואוסר כעגל לא למד
השיבני ואשובה כי אתה ה' אלהי:
כי אחרי שובי נחמתי ואחרי הודעי ספקתי על ירך
בשתי וגם נכלמתי כי נשאתי חרפת נעורי:
הבן יקיר לי אפרים אם ילד שעשעים
כי מדי דברי בו זכר אזכרנו עוד
על כן המו מעי לו רחם ארחמנו נאם ה': (ירמיהו ל"א, יז-יט)
והנביא הושע מסכם את יחסו לאפרים במילים דומות:
(ח) איך אתנך אפרים אמגנך ישראל
איך אתנך כאדמה אשימך כצבאים
נהפך עלי לבי יחד נכמרו נחומי:
(ט) לא אעשה חרון אפי לא אשוב לשחת אפרים
כי אל אנכי ולא איש בקרבך קדוש ולא אבוא בעיר:
האהבה שאינה נענית היא העומדת בבסיס יחסו של האלקים לישראל. אפרים - הוא הדוגמה לאהבה זו: הבן הנבחר, שהאהבה אליו העמידה אותו בראש הפירמידה - והנה הוא שוכח להשיב אהבה, והוא יודע בסתר לבו כי לא ייענש. "לא אשוב לשחת אפרים... ולא אבוא [לשחת] בעיר".
נערך ע"י צוות אתר התנ"ך
לקריאת המאמר המלא באדיבות אתר דעת