Flawed and Holy

This week’s Torah portion is Vayeishev, which means, and he settled. Jacob settled in Canaan with his wives and 13 children. This begins the Joseph stories, in which the favored young dreamer, hated by his brothers, is sold by them into Egypt, has a series of misadventures, and eventually becomes, in next week’s Torah portion, a high official in Pharaoh’s court.
There is an important incident which interrupts the main story, concerning Jacob’s fourth son, Judah, and his family. This story could be called The Education of Judah. Judah marries a Canaanite woman. Their eldest son, Er, later marries a girl named Tamar, but Er dies. As was the custom at that time, Tamar is given as a wife to Judah’s second son, who also dies. When Tamar, who is childless, realizes that she will not be given to Judah’s youngest son, she impersonates a prostitute and arranges to have sexual relations with Judah without revealing her identity. Judah offers to pay her with a baby animal, which he promises to send to her. Tamar insists on a pledge of good faith: his staff, his wrap, and his signet, with which he signs documents. When Judah tries to send the payment, no prostitute can be found. Tamar becomes pregnant by Judah. When her pregnancy becomes known, Judah sentences her to die for sexual transgressions. But she sends him the pledges and he learns that it is he who committed the sin. He acknowledges his failure to keep his word about her marriage to his third son, and he relents. Tamar gives birth to twins; and one of their twin boys becomes the ancestor of King David and also the Prophet Isaiah.
This portion is full of ancestors with flaws. Jacob, like his parents, has a favorite child, creating a poisonous atmosphere. Joseph is an obnoxious, gossiping teenager. The brothers are full of jealousy and hatred. It was Judah’s bright idea to save Joseph from death and sell Joseph into slavery, and his brothers listened to him. We learn that Judah’s two eldest sons displeased God and so died. It is hard to find a person, other than possibly Tamar, with any redeeming character traits. Why are we told about all these people’s worst actions? Perhaps it is so that we can recognize ourselves in these people. This story is important because it portrays life as we know it and people as we know them. There are no saints in Judaism. The Torah is completely honest about how imperfect we all are.
There is example upon example here, of people experiencing the results of their actions, otherwise called, Divine justice. One who separates, through favoritism like Jacob; by lying, like Judah; or by tricking, like both of them, is himself separated from those they love. But the Torah teaches us that mistakes don’t have to be fatal. Even a truly evil deed can be forgiven. If we compare this story about Judah with the story about how Rachel stole her father’s household idols, an interesting parallel emerges. We may think that selling your brother is much worse than stealing some idols. That may be so. But the difference between the outcomes of these two stories shows us where our attention is being directed. Rachel’s Father pursued and caught up with Jacob and his family. Rachel had the opportunity to give the idols back to her Father. But instead of doing so, she sat on the idols to conceal her theft and compounds the deed with the lie that she can’t get up because it’s her time of the month. When given a chance to confess and make it right, she adds one sin to another. For her refusal to repent, she dies early, in childbirth. But Judah takes another path. When given the opportunity to confess, he admits he was wrong. He creates the conditions that lead to Divine forgiveness, and the resumption of the flow of God’s blessings to him. He is blessed by two new sons who become great blessings to the Jewish people and beyond.
So many people have characterized the God of Genesis as a vengeful, angry God; a God of strict justice. But in my reading, the text does not bear this out. When Cain killed Abel, if God were an angry, unforgiving God, God would have killed Cain. But Cain was given the opportunity to live, to wander, and to be set free into a life of learning and growth. When the sins of the people of Noah’s time became known to God, God’s first reaction was heartfelt sadness, not anger. And in the story of Judah, it doesn’t matter how grave his sin is: one who admits their error, owns up to what they have done, and tries to make it right is pardoned. God knows how many mistakes we make: how selfish and dishonest we can be. How absolute truth and absolute integrity often elude us. What needs to be purified in us is often hidden, even from ourselves. As with our very flawed ancestors, God wants us to become aware of those problematic parts of ourselves; to admit what we have done, to grow from our realizations, and go on to make new mistakes from which we can also grow. Mistakes, sins, errors, are our reality checks, showing us what we really are like, and helping us to see ourselves, so that we can leave these current selves behind, like an animal that molts and sheds its skin, and emerge reborn into goodness. This is the process of becoming holy. We are the flawed descendants of flawed ancestors who find holiness through embracing the process of seeing, realizing, and letting go of flaws. Like Tamar, may we not hesitate to act where there is an opportunity. Like Judah, may we be big enough to be able to admit our mistakes. And like all the patriarchs and matriarchs, may we continue to be guided by God to grow in goodness.

The Path to Becoming a Tzaddik

This week’s Torah portion is Vayeishev, which means, and he settled. Jacob settled in Canaan with his wives and 13 children. The teenage Joseph, second to the youngest, used to tattle on his older brothers. Joseph was the favorite son, the one given the coat of many colors or coat of fine wool, denoting family leadership; the dreamer who dreamed of future leadership, and let everyone know it. In this Torah portion, the brothers are pasturing their father’s flock and Jacob sends his young son, Joseph, to bring back a report. In essence, he is sent to tattle. When they see him coming, his brothers conspire to kill him. Reuben, the eldest, steers them away from murder, suggesting they throw him into a pit, with the intention of rescuing him later. Judah, the fourth son, advocates selling him to a passing caravan, agreeing with Reuben, saying, “Let our hand not be upon him, for he is our brother, our own flesh (Gen. 37:27).” The brothers decide to follow Judah’s lead and they do put Joseph into the pit. While they are eating a picnic lunch, traders sell Joseph before they can make a profit themselves, and he is eventually taken to Egypt and resold, ending up as a slave to Potifar, a high official.
This story pivots on hatred and jealousy – two emotions that are in every human heart. At this season of social and family gatherings, it may come up for us, making an unwelcome appearance in our lives. Why are we given these attributes? How do they serve us and, from a spiritual perspective, why are they wrong? The verse, “He is our brother, our own flesh,” is very enlightening. In a sense, all hatred is self hatred. This can be seen in the well known situation of the self hating Jew. But also, since the truth of reality, which the Torah teaches, is that we are all one: we are all part of each other. We are all brothers, sisters: family; and we are all part of the Divine Oneness. So we recognize in others that quality that is part of us: hatred or jealousy, and return it outward. Or we find a lack in ourselves and blame another person for it.
Hatred and jealousy come from a faulty understanding of the world. Rashi comments: snakes and scorpions were in the pit. The brothers placed Joseph physically in the place where they were emotionally: a place of snakes and scorpions. They separated themselves from Joseph, trying to get rid of their own negative feelings toward him. In a sense, all sins are sins of separation: separating us from one another and from God. If the truth of existence is that we are One, then any separation goes against the way the Universe is made. It is a step backward, toward the corruption of society in the time of Noah, rather than forward, into the messianic vision of the future.
One of the underlying principles of the Torah is that one who separates will herself or himself be separated. This was true of Rebecca, who was separated from her beloved son Jacob. It was true of Rachel, who was separated from Jacob, her husband, Joseph and her newborn son Benjamin, and from life itself, by her early death. And it was true of Judah in this Torah portion, whose wife and two sons died untimely deaths. Hatred and jealousy are challenges within us that we can strive against. They are prime attributes that we can decide to overcome, providing rungs on the ladder leading toward spiritual progress. They can spur us to goodness when re recognize them and honestly admit to their source within us. They can show us a path of action to redress wrongs or injustice in our relationships and in the greater society; and they can help us to achieve and attain for ourselves what we have always wanted to be, IF and only if, we put these attributes in the service of unifying and not separating. The world looks separate to us and is not. People look separate from us and are not. Hatred and jealousy hurt us, not others. The path to becoming a tzaddik, a righteous person, is long, but Joseph the tattletale achieved it. The brothers: Reuben, Judah and the others achieved it. And so can we. May jealous and hatred not find a place to lodge in our hearts, and may we grow in goodness and righteousness, acting out of and choosing the truth of our unity.