Monica

The talmud says that the time of Mordechai and Esther was "darker than night", because even at night we have the moon and stars to shed light. The rabbis compare Esther to the dawn; as light gradually increases, so did Israel's redemption through Esther: first Mordechai sat at the gate, then Esther arose as queen, then the king could not sleep (which led to Mordechai's reward), and finally Esther was able to reverse the king's decree. (Yoma 29a)

Parshat Mishpatim enumerates a variety of commandments for the Jewish people. The rabbis ask what is the purpose of the commandments? According to Rabbi Abahu, they are not just to improve us but to improve the world as well. He compares Israel to a gardener tending an orchard; the commandments are like the instructions given to the gardener. If they are followed, the orchard will survive, bloom, and provide food for all who need it. (Exodus Rabbah 30:9)

"Speak to the children of Israel and tell them to go forth." When the Israelites found themselves at the sea of reeds, with Paro's army bearing down on them, Moshe prayed to God for guidance. Rabbi Eliezer says that God said to him: there is a time for brevity and a time for length. My children are threatened: quit talking to me and tell them to go forth! (Exodus Rabbah 21:8)

When God sent the plague of blood, it affected not just the Nile but all Egyptian water. Rabbi Avun ha-Levi said that if a Jew and an Egyptian sat together, drinking from the same jug, the Jew drank water while for the Egyptian it was blood. Even if the Egyptian had the Jew pour the water for him, it turned to blood in his hands. Only if the Egyptian paid money for the water did it remain water. (Exodus Rabbah 9:10)

I think this is a sad midrash in one way. If, in the midst of oppression and plagues, a Jew and an Egyptian were able to sit down together as peers (which would be pretty remarkable), wouldn't a better teaching be that for that Egyptian, the water stayed water? But perhaps my modern thinking informs this; such a thing would certainly have undermined some of the power of the plagues. The p'shat (plain reading) of the torah account does not seem to allow for innocent Egyptians, which troubles me. I think we're supposed to read it at the grand, national level, not at the level of individual participants. I have trouble doing that sometimes.

When Yosef was a slave in Potiphar's house, God was with him and everything he touched prospered. Potiphar saw that this was so and rewarded Yosef. In time Yosef said "I am eating well and drinking well; blessed be God who has let me forget my father's house". At this God said "how can you enjoy yourself while your father mourns?", and it was then that God sent Potiphar's wife after Yosef. (Genesis Rabbah 86:5)

(My translation of Sefer Ha-Agaddah, where I found this, actually has God saying "you spoiled brat!"; I don't know how literal (vs. evocative) that is.)

The torah describes Leah as having eyes that are weak. The midrash says that as she grew up, she heard people say that it's fortunate that Rivka had two sons while her brother Lavan had two daughters, because now the older son would marry the older daughter and the younger son would marry the younger daughter. Leah, the older daughter, inquired about Eisav, the older son, and when she found out what kind of man he was she cried until her eyes grew weak. (Genesis Rabbah 70:16)

(Hmm, how weird. I really did send that with two paragraphs. Let's try again.)

When Eliezer seeks to acquire Rivka as a bride for Yitzchak, he negotiates with her brother and mother. Where was her father, Betuel, in all this? According to Rashi, Betuel sought to block the marriage, even in the face of a divine sign. Worse yet, he sought to block it by poisoning Eliezer. However, an angel of God switched the cups so that Betuel, not Eliezer, was poisoned. (24:55)

(I really need to get a Rashi instead of relying on secondary sources' citations...)

When Noach wanted to see if the flood waters had receeded enough, he sent out a raven that went "to and fro". The rabbis say this means the raven argued with Noach, asking "why me?". Noach replied, "What need does the world have for you? You are fit neither for food nor for an offering." The raven replied, "your lord hates me and you hate me. Your lord hates me because he ordered you to take seven pairs of some creatures but only one pair of us. You hate me because you could have sent one from the other species instead. Should I perish, the world will be deprived of my species." Nonetheless Noach sent the raven, and it found a corpse to eat and did not return. (Genesis Rabbah 33:6)

This week we conclude the reading of torah with the death of Moshe. The talmud asks how Moshe could have written the words "Moshe died there". Rabbi Yehudah said that Moshe wrote until this point and Yehoshua wrote the final words. Rabbi Shimon disagreed, saying "can we imagine the scroll of the law being incomplete when Moshe said 'take this book of the law'?" Rather, he says, until this point the Holy One Blessed Be He dictated and Moshe repeated and wrote, and for the final words He dictated and Moshe wrote with tears in his eyes. (Baba Batra 15a)

Moshe's final poem begins with the words "give ear, oh heavens... let the earth hear". According to the midrash the word "ha'azinu", "give ear", refers to a listener who is nearby, while "tishma" (hear, or listen) refers to one who is farther away. Moshe and Isaiah both use both words; Moshe applies "ha'azinu" to heaven and "tishma" to earth while Isaiah reverses them. The midrash (Sifrei) says that Moshe was closer to heaven than to earth so he asked heaven to "give ear" and the earth to "listen"; Isaiah, on the other hand, while a prophet, was solidly of the world, so he asked the world to "give ear" and heaven to "listen". (Sifrei 306)

Moshe was closer to heaven than any other prophet, knowing God "panim el panim" (face to face). Perhaps this is one more reason that he needed to not be the one who led Israel into the promised land; perhaps they needed someone more "of the earth" than "of the heavens".

In parshat Vayelech Moshe says he is ready for Yehoshua to lead Israel. The rabbis ask why Yehoshua should take over and not Moshe's sons Gershon and Eliezer. The rabbis say that Moshe argued with God on behalf of his sons, but God says that they are not worthy of leadership because they spend their days idly and do not study torah. Further, Yehoshua honors Moshe more than his own sons do, so he is worthy of leadership while they are not. (Numbers Rabbah 21:16)

My comment: Priesthood is based on inheritance but community leadership is based on merit. God will accept inheritance for those who interact with him [1], but for leading people, demonstrated merit is required.

[1] Priests can be disqualified under some circumstances, but the default is "in".

This week's parsha includes laws of returning lost or forgotten objects. The talmud tells the following story to illustrate: Once a man was passing the home of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa and left some hens behind. Rabbi Chanina refused to eat the hens' eggs, and in time the hens multiplied. When they became too many for him to keep, he sold them and bought goats. Later the man returned, saying he had lost his hens. Rabbi Chanina asked for a sign to identify them, which the man provided. Rabbi Chanina then gave him the goats. (Ta'anit 25a)

I find a few things interesting about this:

The lesson seems to be that we not only hold the lost item but, when that makes sense, increase its value. One could have reasonably argued that when the man showed up Chanina owed him a hen, but that's not what happened.

We sometimes hear stories of how someone abandoned what he was doing to search high and low for the owner of a lost item, and in fact the talmud has a lot to say about this -- that it is inconvenient to search for the owner doesn't excuse us from doing it anyway. In this story Chanina waits but doesn't search. It's possible that the rabbis go on to argue about how he didn't do enough (the talmud is big and contains many cross-references, so for all I know there's a discussion of this story in tractate sanhedrin or something), but in the discussion in this part of the talmud, Chanina is clearly considered to have done a good thing. (Those goats brought him other rewards before the man came to claim them.)

Chanina didn't just take the man's word for it; he asked for a sign. A man's word is important, but we needn't decline to ask for proof. That said, I wonder what kind of sign the man could have given, or how much proof it's appropriate to seek for a mere chicken. I commented to the rabbi this morning that I was curious about the sign, especially as the chicken was no longer there ("it had a little white spot below its beak..." or the like). He suggested that this might go to show Chanina's observance of details, that he could match a description of a long-gone hen. Another possibility occurred to me: any sign might have been good enough, and the point was to ask the man for something (on the theory that a cheat would demur rather than giving a sign that would turn out not to apply).