Printable PDF available here. Last year’s piece on Vayeitzei is available here.

Rav Kook (Shemonah Kevatzim 2:280)

So she named him Joseph, saying, “May the Lord add for me another son.” (Bereishit 30:24)

Different perceptions of truth are bound to conflict and constrict each other. Every discipline of wisdom (lit. חכמה) feels threatened and encroached upon by others. But this is only when various perspectives of truth are unrefined and not yet understood in their true profundity. Division exists only on the level of expression and manifestation (lit. סגנון), which a function of our finite existence (lit. מצד המקבלים). But on the deepest level of reality, all Truth is unified and indivisible. Every discrete truth – whether in the realm of the Torah, ethics, or worldly wisdom – contributes to the totality of this Truth and strengthens the spiritual energy (lit. השפעה) that flows through all of existence. Thus, to the extent that a person focuses on the outward dimension of wisdom, he will fill threatened by truths that emanate from outside of his field of study. But if he seeks the fundamental essence of Knowledge, he will realize the unification of all disciplines. He will become enriched, not threatened, by other bearers of truth. Every level of reality – inner essence and outward manifestation, holy and profane, pure and impure – will be united in his soul’s inner gaze. They are all sparks in a greater holy flame.

Admittedly, there are few people who merit this level of perception. The spiritual elite, those who focus on inner essence, are few in number (Gemara Sukkah 45b). The vast majority do not advance beyond the outward level of expression in which separation and division reign. But this is appropriate. Our Sages (Gemara Chagigah 10a) apply the verse “Neither was there any peace to him that went out or came in” to one who goes back and forth between halacha and mikra, gemara and mishnah, Talmud Bavli and Talmud Yerushalmi. And all the more so is this true of one who flits between sacred and profane, pure and impure. Most people need to concentrate their focus on one discipline of the larger Truth, and for them, the guiding principle is that “To add is to detract” (lit. כל המוסיף גורע) (Gemara Sanhedrin 29b).

If this analysis seems too abstract, let us consider Yosef haTzadik. Yosef epitomizes the elite spiritual personality who contains within himself the unified reality of all Truth. Yosef was the favored son of Ya’akov, who saw him as his spiritual heir. Ya’akov was “a wholesome man who dwelled in tents [of Torah].” But Ya’akov was neither naïve nor unworldly, as we see in his shrewed response to Lavan’s deviousness. As our Sages teach, Ya’akov could declare to Esav that “I have lived with Lavan and kept all 613 mitzvot” (lit. עם לבן גרתי ותרי׳ג מצוות שמרתי).

Yosef embodied this same integration of seemingly disparate aptitudes.⁽¹⁾ In the face of temptation from Potiphar’s wife, he held fast to the ethical demands of Avraham’s covenant. He was also a man of chesed who oversaw the distribution of food to starving and impoverished masses. He was the ranking advisor of the most powerful empire in the world, a role in which he displayed incredible initiative, vision and administrative talent. According to our Sages (Gemara Sotah 36b), he was unmatched in worldly wisdom, as the angel Gabriel bestowed upon him fluency in all seventy languages. He also displayed graciousness to the brothers who had sold him into slavery, and repaid their cruelty with kindness. Our Sages also teach that he proclaimed his love for Eretz Yisrael even in the pit of imprisonment in Egypt. And even on his deathbed, as the clouds of enslavement were beginning to darken, he expressed his yearning for the eventual redemption – “G-d will surely remember you and take you up out of this land to the land that He swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob… G-d will surely remember you, and you shall take up my bones out of here” (Bereishit 49:24-25).

Can there be a better archetype than Yosef for the personality who integrates all talents and spiritual aptitudes, who joins the worlds of kodesh and chol in one harmonious and integrated whole? This is the path of Yosef, whose gaze is unconstrained by the boundaries within which most others – even tzaddikim – operate. The Torah (Bereishit 49:22) describes Yosef as “עלי עין,” and from here our Sages derive that Yosef’s descendants are עולי עין, that they rise above ayin ha’ra. The select few who follow Yosef’s path rise transcend the realm in which separation and division reign. This is the deeper meaning of Yosef’s name, of Rachel’s declaration “May the Lord add for me another son.” Yosef is the one who seeks to add, to join all levels of truth – Torah and chochmah, holy and profane, pure and impure – into one integrated reality.

(1) In the Hebrew original, Rav Kook refers to Kabbalistic sources that Ya’akov embodies the sefirah of tiferet, which represents a harmonious synthesis between chesed (embodied by Avraham) and din (embodied by Yitzchak). He also refers to the midrash (see Rashi to Bereishit 37:3) that Yosef’s appearance resembled that of Ya’akov.

Food for Thought

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein: There were times at which the balance between talmud Torah and other areas of life needed to be worked out. I remember on one occasion in graduate school I felt that my Torah learning was flagging a bit, and, among all people, I discussed it with my thesis advisor, a non-Jew, Prof. Douglas Bush. He was a wonderful person and a great scholar – probably the top person in English literature when I was at Harvard. I felt a little in distress, perhaps my emphases were being somewhat skewed, and I went to talk to him. I told him, “I think that I know what I am doing and why I am doing it, but I would like to hear it from the master.” I was at Harvard for four years: the first two years, courses; then generals; then dissertation. This was the first semester of my second year, my third semester at Harvard. I said to him, “I think I understand the value of English literature, but I would like to hear it formulated more fully.” I was taking a course in sonnets, and he said, “You know, I ask myself about the legitimacy of investing so much time and effort in literature; I must know some of Dryden’s sonnets better than some of the psalms!” He was a religious person, and he could understand my tension very deeply; that is where we connected. We went on to discuss the need to understand the human spirit, to realize human potential, through the study of the humanities in particular. I thought that experience was extremely valuable, and it helped me overcome my brief crisis.

Hermann Struck:⁽²⁾ I went up to Jerusalem and visited the Rav. He received me warmly. Apparently, he had heard about my activities in Poland and Russia during World War I, when I served as a special officer for Jewish affairs on the staff of the invading German army. The conversation quickly turned to the topic of art; and I – the professor of art – suddenly saw myself as a student sitting before his master, listening with admiration to his comprehensive knowledge. When the Rav began talking about the place of art in universal culture, I thought to myself, “It is, indeed, fascinating that this great Torah scholar knows about such matters, but that must be part of his broad knowledge of general philosophy,” of which I was already aware. However, when he went on to discuss – effusively – the art of painting, even relating to great and famous painters and their artistic genres, I was completely amazed. When and how did he attain such wide-ranging proficiency and such subtle distinctions in this complex discipline? Suddenly, I realized that this great rabbi sees all; his poetic soul is open to the entire range of artistic expression, and his brilliant grasp encompasses all of its varying approaches. He is also able to define and find precise terminologies to describe its most unique approaches.

During that broad conversation, which lasted much longer than I had expected, the Rav did not lose sight of me. He had a special request of me. He asked me to devote more of my energies to painting the scenery of Eretz Yisrael. “As an artist,” he said, “you have an important mission. You must reveal the beauty, grace, and sanctity of our Holy Land. You must depict historical sites which, when seen, will inspire Jews to love the Land and yearn for its hills and valleys.” The Rav concluded with a blessing: “May the Holy One, Blessed be He, Who bestowed wisdom upon Betzalel and Oholiav for the purpose of building the Mishkan, continue to bestow wisdom upon anyone whose artistic talents are devoted to the Jewish nation and its land.”

(2) Herman Struck (1876-1944) was an outstanding artist in Germany. He was born to an Orthodox family and remained an observant Jew his entire life – an extraordinary rarity for someone with artistic tendencies during this period in Jewish history. Among his students was Marc Chagall.

Rav Soloveitchik (Days of Deliverance): In aristocracy, each family has a coat of arms, an emblem. What was the emblem of Joseph? It was the ketonet passim, of course, the multicolored coat, a coat composed of stripes that his father made for him (Gen. 37:3). When Joseph came to Dothan, the brothers immediately stripped him of the ketonet passim, the banner that Joseph carried (Gen. 37:23). Without the ketonet ha-passim, Joseph’s power dissipated and disappeared. I believe the ketonet ha-passim is the symbol of the Jewish people as well…

Joseph beheld two visions. He dreamt of his alumot, sheaves, which rose and stood up high while the sheaves of his brothers came and bowed down to his. When he told that dream to his brothers, they were not envious of that dream. True, their hatred was deepened and strengthened, but their envy was not aroused. Then he dreamt another dream. He dreamt of the sun and the moon and the stars bowing to him. When he told this dream to his father… his brethren envied him” (Gen. 37:11) – not only did they hate him, but they were envious of him as well… The prima facie interpretation is that Joseph had two visions. One was of material economic power, of prosperity and opulence, and that vision came true one hundred percent. The other dream apparently revolved around spiritual greatness, heavenly sweep and heavenly grandeur. Joseph wanted to be powerful in a political sense, to attain wealth and prosperity, to be respected by people because of his power, feared by people because of his might; but he also wanted to be great spiritually, to be loved by people, to be revered by people because of the greatness of his wisdom and his kindness.

Can one person combine both qualities? Can one person fulfill both dreams, the dream of the sheaves—of economic and military power—and also the dream of spiritual greatness, of moral heights and communion with G-d? Joseph, as an executive, paid attention to the hard facts of life; he organized the storage of the food during the seven years of prosperity. He divided and then removed the peasants from their land. Could he at the same time be a dreamer, a visionary, and a spiritual leader loved by people? Apparently, Joseph thought that he could combine both. This is the meaning of the ketonet ha-passim—multicolored, not monochromatic, not one monotonous color. If there are many colors, there are many contradictions. Colors clash with one another, and Joseph was the synthesis of alumot and the heavenly bodies.

The Jews throughout history have imitated Joseph. We also have two visions. The Jew is a good merchant and he is skillful in trade. Jews dreamt of sheaves, otherwise they could not have survived. At the same time the Jew—the small merchant, the grocer, the peddler—would come home for the Sabbath. I knew such people in my childhood. The same Jew, sometimes in rags, had another dream—not of alumot, not of dollars and cents, of rubles and kopeks, but of something else, of a “sun, a moon, and eleven stars” (Gen. 37:9) of spiritual greatness. He was a great spiritual personality.

Questions for Discussion

1. How is Rav Soloveitchik’s understanding of Yosef (excerpted above) the same as Rav Kook’s? How is it different?
2. According to Rav Kook, both Yosef and Ya’akov excelled at integrating different talents. What else do they have in common?
3. Are there any dangers to the spiritual path of Yosef, as articulated by Rav Kook?
4. Who have you met (or read about) that expresses the path of integration/harmony which Rav Kook sees represented by Yosef?
5. What is the proper role of chochmah and worldly knowledge in Torah life and avodat Hashem?

Printable PDF available here.

Rav Kook (Orot ha’kodesh, Volume 3)

Leah’s eyes were tender, but Rachel had beautiful features and a beautiful complexion. (Bereishit 29:17). Rashi: Leah’s eyes were tender because she expected to fall into Esav’s lot, and she wept, because everyone was saying, “Rebecca has two sons, and Laban has two daughters. The older daughter for the older son, and the younger daughter for the younger son.”

A person’s soulful greatness, which yearns for supernal holiness and great and exalted matters, must also involve itself in rectifying his character traits and deeds. At times, that soulful greatness must descend to the depths of everyday life and burrow into its minutest details in order to them and rectify direct them along the lines of righteousness and justice, as understood by the Torah and halachah. That soulful greatness must penetrate into the depths of his character traits in order to strip them of everything wicked and distorted.

If a person only concerns himself with ascent and not with purification and sanctification on the lowest level, the entire supernal light of ascent may shatter and turn into a scourge. The greatness of this person’s soul may be transformed into a bizarre egotism, and his yearning for knowledge about the essence of heavenly mysteries may turn into a fantasy that takes pride in the array of its colors.

A mighty spirit that elevates the phenomenon of life can also lift up a person’s stormy lusts. His desire for money, honor, and sensory pleasures can break all bounds. And from the mighty heights of a person’s supernal, angelic yearning can come the most terrible fall.

The hidden world is the trait of Leah, whose “eyes were weak.” She sits at the crossroads and prays not to fall into the world of Esav. Due to her greatness and weeping, she attained the foundation of prophecy and royalty [Yehuda is descended from Leah], and the portion of Israel.

Commentary (Mostly from Rav Moshe Weinberger’s Song of Teshuva Vol. 4)

Rachel and Leah were not simply great spiritual personalities. They established and represent different pathways of Divine service. According to the Zohar, Leah is connected to the hidden world (lit. עלמא דאתכסיה), and Rachel is connected to the revealed world (עלמא דאתגליא). This is an esoteric statement, but it is expresses itself on the p’shat level as well. Ya’akov met Rachel first, and intended to marry her. In contrast, the marriage to Leah was part of a secretive Divine plan that was concealed from Ya’akov. He simply did not anticipate that Leah would become part of the future of the Jewish people.

Our Sages teach that “Leah took a portion of praise.” Leah is associated with dynamic spirituality, song, self-expression and giving thanks. A song is composed of high and low notes. Leah had many diverse sides, and therefore she had many children. From one part of her came Reuven, from another part came Shimon, and so on. Various musical notes may be in conflict with each other. And there were many clashing sounds in Leah’s heart. She was drawn to, yet repulsed by the world of Esav. Our Sages teach that she lost the luster of her youth because she was crying and begging Hashem not to end up in Esav’s world. She was asking Hashem not only to save her from being married to Esav but also to save her from becoming a female version of Esav. Leah was the mother of all ba’alei teshuva, of all those who struggle with inner turbulence, whose every step is a struggle.

Had she not rectified her character traits, she could have fallen into the lost regions associated with Esav. She cried out to Hashem to help her do the right thing until she married Yaakov, and from their union came ultimately Moshe, the master of Torah and prophecy, and Dovid, the master of prayer. Everything comes from Leah, who was flying high but never neglected her character traits and deeds. Because she was constantly struggling, she is the mother of all baalei teshuvah, of all warriors. Because she cried and fought to do the right thing, she established the portion of Israel and the ultimate repair of the entire world.

In contrast to Leah, our Sages teach that “Rachel took a portion of silence” (Bereishis Rabbah 78:5). Rachel possessed an inner silence, a confidence in who she was. She was not conflicted but in a state of harmony. Rachel’s external beauty expressed a blameless inner complexion. Hers was the world of the tzaddik who is perfect from childhood. A “Rachel” type of person possesses an inner tranquility. He does not experience evil as a temptation that might at any moment overwhelm him. Once he receives proper guidance, he naturally and comfortably proceeds in a straight manner.

This approach does not work for someone with a “Leah” personality. A person who possesses a greatness of soul longs for the highest levels of holiness. He wishes to remove himself from the world, to go into the woods and engage in spontaneous prayer – hisbodedus– to Hashem. In consequence, a separation between his soul and body may develop. He might rise to high places, then all of a sudden descend to the darkest depths.

To prevent that, he must constantly work on improving his good traits, which are deeply connected to his body. They are the bridge over which the physical passes to the spiritual. Additionally, he must work on his actions, and on living in accordance with the Shulchan Aruch… [H]e must dedicate a tremendous amount of attention to rectifying his character traits and actions. Even as he experiences constant yearnings to grow in spirituality, he must descend into the many details of his life, correcting them and directing them in accordance with truth and righteousness.

For instance, he must play with his children and involve himself in the other simple, day-to-day affairs of his family. There is an opposite type of person who has no spiritual yearnings but focuses solely on day-to-day halachos and rectifying his traits. The life of such a person is above reproach but relatively sterile, cold, and unmotivated. A true service of God contains both of these elements: yearning for exalted spirituality together with work on rectifying the smallest details of day-to-day life…

A person who wanders into shul at ten-thirty in the morning – to daven, recite Tehillim, and sing – may think that he is the most spiritual person in the world. If he were really spiritual, however, he would force himself to get up early. Generally, a person of this sort recoils from confronting his physical desires. Thus, he is liable to give into them. That is why people who appear to be spiritual are often up to all kinds of mischief. Such a person lacks the stability and sturdiness of a Jew who is absolutely, unwaveringly attached to the Shulchan Aruch. The latter person drags himself out of bed when the alarm goes off at five -thirty in the morning because his spirit is telling him that he must get up to serve God. He may be incomplete in that he feels no great emotional upheaval or revelation. But because he listens to his spirit, he is spiritual. However, we do not have to choose between these two extremes. We must do our best to be fervent Jews who never abandon the smallest details of halachah…

I myself saw games in the waiting room of a great tzaddik in Yerushalayim. The Rebbe’s gabbai told me that they belong to the Rebbe who plays them with his young children. A tzaddik who is involved in heavenly matters does not feel like sitting down with his children and playing these games. But he understands that they need him to do so. His playing with them is a tremendous kindness – and so it is spiritual.

Food for Thought

Zohar: All that concerned Leah is kept under a veil by the Torah, as she typified the upper world, which is veiled and undisclosed. This is another reason why Leah’s death is not divulged like that of Rachel. It is in accordance, too, with this difference between the upper and the lower worlds that Leah was buried away from sight in the cave of Machpelah; whereas Rachel was buried by the open road.

Rav Ari Kahn: The Torah states that when Jacob came in from the field in the evening he was greeted by Leah, with whom he was intimate that night: “And Jacob came from the field in the evening, and Leah went out to meet him, and said, ‘You must come to me; for I have hired you with my son’s mandrakes.’ And he lay with her that night.” (Genesis 30:16) The Zohar notes that the text does not state that Jacob was intimate with Leah, rather the nameless mysterious “he” (Zohar Vayetze 157b). The Ariz’al stresses that Jacob has two identities: Jacob and Israel. This is an idea with which we are familiar from the biblical text. The Ariz’al explains that Jacob was married to Rachel while “he” who is identified with is Israel was married to Leah. This is not a case of schizophrenia; rather, Jacob embodies two missions which need to come to fruition. These missions are represented by Leah and Rachel

Questions for Discussion

1. Do you think you are more of a “Rachel” type or a “Leah” type? Why?
2. What other differences can you identify between the personalities of Rachel and Leah?
3. What happens when a “Leah” type is forced into the mode of a “Rochel” or vice-versa?
4. Yehuda is the most prominent descendant of Leah, whereas Yosef is the most prominent descent of Rachel. Do they have similar personality types as their respective mothers?
5. Rav Moshe Weinberger writes that someone who listens to his spirit is spiritual, even if they don’t feel a sense of inspiration. Do you agree? Why or why not?