Vayishlach, 5875
There are sometimes small verses of Torah that speak volumes. There is one such verse in this week’s parsha, often overlooked. In a parsha that contains that wrestling match between Ya’akov and an angel, the giving of the name Yisrael, the reconciliation of Esav and Ya’akov, the rape of Dinah, and the death of Rachel, it is easy to see why this verse is overlooked. Indeed, its lack of prominence is not helped by the fact that the rabbis of the Talmud command that it be overlooked. It is one of the verses that, according to the Talmud, should be read aloud in Hebrew but not translated into Aramaic when the translator recites after the Torah reader. It is quite possible that I am violating a rabbinic commandment by giving this dvar Torah. Now that I have you attention, the verse in question:
וַיְהִי בִּשְׁכֹּן יִשְׂרָאֵל בָּאָרֶץ הַהִוא וַיֵּלֶךְ רְאוּבֵן וַיִּשְׁכַּב אֶת־בִּלְהָה פִּילֶגֶשׁ אָבִיו וַיִּשְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵ͏ל
וַיִּהְיוּ בְנֵי־יַעֲקֹב שְׁנֵים עָשָׂר׃
And it was while Israel was dwelling in that land that Reuven went and lay with Bilhah, the concubine of his father, and Israel heard. And the sons of Ya’akov were twelve.
You probably never learned of this verse, which is the only information we get of the incident at the time, in Sunday School. But it’s here. According to the Torah, Reuven, Ya’akov’s first born, went and slept with one of Ya’akov’s wives. One of our patriarchs, one of the original heads of the tribes of Israel! Now, the rabbis are quick to insist that we must not think that Reuven actually did this heinous event. כׇּל הָאוֹמֵר רְאוּבֵן חָטָא אֵינוֹ אֶלָּא טוֹעֶה, says Rabbi Yonatan in the Talmud. Anyone who says Reuven sinned is nothing but mistaken. Instead, he explains, Ya’akov must have moved his bed to Bilhah’s tent, who was Rachel’s handmaid, after Rachel died. Reuven was frustrated that a concubine was given more privileges than his mother, so then either disturbed his father’s bed in protest, or moved it back to Leah’s tent, depending on how you understand the Talmud at that point. This is the interpretation that Rashi uses, as well as most other commentators. But it is very clearly not what the Torah means. Ibn Ezra, who normally favors a literary reading of the Torah, slightly alludes to this when he comments on this verse “Our rabbis explained this beautifully, and a prudent man conceals shame.” What shame would there to be concealed if what the rabbis explained actually happened? But the rabbis are being prudent, and so concealing Reuven’s, and perhaps Bilhah’s, shame. But some other commentators in the literary tradition simply state it plainly. הלך לאהל בלהה ושכב עמה, says Radak. He went to the tent of Bilhah and lay with her.
How should we react when one of our patriarchs commits such an odious sin? When one of our heroes commits such a heinous act? It makes sense for the rabbis of the Talmud to shun the straightforward interpretation of the verse. Indeed, the section of the Talmud that story comes from is full of the defense of biblical characters who clearly sinned, such as the sons of Eli, the sons of Shmuel, David, and Shlomo (Solomon). The Talmud tends to favor more simplistic readings of the characters of the Bible, so they can be used to teach morality and separate right from wrong. But, ironically, whitewashing our ancestors only serves to prevent us from learning one of the most important lessons when it comes to morality: that a person, even a good person, has the potential to do both good and evil deeds. Reuven is the one brother that tries to save Yosef from enslavement. But he lays with Bilhah. David unites the people of Israel. And sleeps with Batsheva and has her husband slain. Shlomo is the wisest king of Israel, who builds the First Temple. As well as temples to foreign gods. People, even and especially our heroes, are complicated.
And this idea is also addressed within the verse itself. Take a look at it again:
וַיְהִי בִּשְׁכֹּן יִשְׂרָאֵל בָּאָרֶץ הַהִוא וַיֵּלֶךְ רְאוּבֵן וַיִּשְׁכַּב אֶת־בִּלְהָה פִּילֶגֶשׁ אָבִיו וַיִּשְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵ͏ל
וַיִּהְיוּ בְנֵי־יַעֲקֹב שְׁנֵים עָשָׂר׃
And it was while Israel was dwelling in that land that Reuven went and lay with Bilhah, the concubine of his father, and Israel heard. And the sons of Ya’akov were twelve.
Does it not feel like these are two separate sentences? Indeed, there is even a space in the Torah between “and Israel heard” and “And the sons of Ya’akov.” Almost always, an ident of space in the Torah means that the word before the space is the end of the sentence. But here, deliberately, the trope used is not the sof passuk, the end of the sentence, but the Etnachta, the trope that separates the two main clauses of the sentence. Our tradition deliberately links the story of Reuven laying with Bilhah with the almost boilerplate extraneous phrase “And the sons of Ya’akov were twelve.” Why?
Some commentators explain that it just indicates that Ya’akov had no more children after this incident. The Talmud explains that the phrase is meant to indicate that all of the children of Yisrael were equal, since Reuven, after all, had not really sinned. Sforno, a 16th century Italian commentator, has an explanation I like more, saying that Yisrael continued to count Reuven among his twelve sons, because he had no doubt that Reuven had already repented.
I would like to go one step further. It is not Ya’akov here, but the Torah that is reminding us that Reuven is still counted among those twelve sons. Not because, as the Talmud says, because he did not sin. But precisely because he did. We are reminded by the Torah that despite Reuven’s terrible actions, he remains one of the twelve sons of Yisrael. One of our patriarchs.
There are multiple lessons to be learned from this reminder. This first is in our approach to our personal heroes, both historical and contemporary. Do not assume that because someone is exalted or a good person, that they are free from ever making any mistakes. George Washington was an incredibly impressive man, the founder of our country, the person who could have been king but chose to return home after service. He also owned slaves. We should not assume that because Washington was in so many respects a good person that he was infallible, or did never committed any major sins. He owned human beings.
Just as the good does not hide the bad, so too does the bad not hide the good. Reuven is still one of the twelve tribes. Washington owned slaves, but he also gave so much of himself to safeguard America, and was one of the few people who have every voluntarily turned away from power. We cannot understand Washington without remembering that he owned slaves, but we also cannot understand him by only remembering that he owned slaves.
But finally, there is a lesson and a challenge for ourselves. We may not be famous, or heroes. But just like Washington and Reuven, we cannot solely be understood by either our sins or our successes. We are the sum of our mitzvot and misdeeds. We must not assume that because we are good we cannot sin, and then overlook our own mistakes. Nor should we assume that because we have made mistakes, we can never return to being good. We are both. We grow and change as human beings. And so do those around us. Our friends, our family, the people we see on the street, the people who caught us off in traffic. Everyone, not just those who are famous but everyone, is the sum of their decisions. And our reminder, and our challenge, is to remember that. To be able to call out the mistakes that our loved ones, who are so dear to us and who we think are good people, make. To be able to understand that our rivals and antagonists, who we are used to thinking of negatively, also have their share of good deeds, and are not permanently wicked. We as humans are all complicated, all make mistakes. Some of those mistakes can be very severe. And yet Reuven remained one of the sons of Ya’akov, one of the tribes of Yisrael. If his father can extend a measure of forgiveness, if the Torah can, then perhaps we can extend the same measure and understanding to one another.
