Tag Archives: Lemech

The Flood, the Tower, and Egypt: Why Did the Israelites Have to be Enslaved?

This week’s Torah portion is Miketz, which continues the narrative of Joseph’s meteoric rise to power in Egypt. Two years after Joseph correctly interpreted the dreams of his co-prisoners, the Pharaoh’s servants, he is summoned to interpret the bizarre dream of Pharaoh himself. Contrary to popular belief, it was not that Joseph was the only one who had an interpretation at all. The Pharaoh had his own soothsayers, priests, and interpreters. Rather, Joseph’s dream was the only one that came with a plan of action. Impressed, Pharaoh appointed Joseph to put his plan in motion. And Joseph did not disappoint.

After seven years of bountiful harvests, the seven years of famine began. The people quickly ran out of food. (Rashi comments here that although all of Egypt knew that a famine would come, and the whole population stored food for themselves, they found that what they had stored had rotted away.) Thankfully, Joseph had stored plenty of provisions in the royal granaries. The populace “cried out to Pharaoh” for bread, and Pharaoh told them: “Go to Joseph, and do what he tells you.” Rashi quotes a famous Midrash that says Joseph decreed that anyone wanting to receive food must first be circumcised!

Carved Circumcision Scene from a Temple in Luxor, Egypt, c. 1360 BCE (Credit: Lasse Jansen)

Carved circumcision scene from a temple in Luxor, Egypt, c. 1360 BCE (Credit: Lasse Jansen)

Amazingly, archaeological evidence shows that circumcision was, in fact, common during Egypt’s 18th dynasty (1543-1292 BCE), which is when these events of the Torah would have taken place. Last year, we wrote of the archaeological evidence corroborating the story of Joseph through the historical figure of Yuya. Yuya also lived during the 18th dynasty, around the time of the carved scene depicted here.

History aside, the big question is: why would Joseph want the Egyptians circumcised?

Adam, the Flood, and the Tower of Babel

The bulk of the Arizal’s commentary on this parasha (in Sha’ar HaPesukim) is dedicated to the above question. He presents an incredible answer, and starts with the following:

“Those 130 years before Moses was born were in order to bring down the sparks of the holy souls that were released by Adam, the first man, through his wasted seed during his first 130 years.”

Biblical chronology shows us that the Israelites spent a total of 210 years in Egypt. The Torah also tells us that Moses was around 80 years old at the time of the Exodus. That means he was born 130 years after the Israelite immigration to Egypt. At the same time, the Torah tells us that Adam had his third son, Shet (or Seth, in English), when he was 130 years old.

Many Jewish texts suggest that after Cain had tragically killed Abel, Adam decided not to have any more children. After 130 years, he was rebuked by the wives of Lemech for separating from Eve, and immediately realized his faulty ways. At that point, Adam and Eve had Seth. However, during those 130 years apart, it is said that Adam had wasted his seed. Since the seed contains the potential for life, when it emerges it produces a soul. However, these souls that Adam created over the 130 years had no body to inhabit. Where did they go? The Arizal continues:

“First, [the souls] came into the bodies of the people of the Flood generation, who also wasted their seed… so they were reincarnated once more in the generation of the Dispersion.”

The damaged souls that Adam had created came down into this world into the bodies of the pre-Flood generation. It was incumbent upon them to perform a tikkun, a correction for their souls, accomplished through meritorious deeds and mitzvot. Unfortunately, the damaged souls were drawn to evil, and themselves became very licentious. They perished in the Great Flood, and were reincarnated into the next generation. However, that generation also went waywardly, and built the infamous Tower of Babel.

“Now, they reincarnated once more into those Egyptians. Joseph knew through Ruach HaKodesh [Divine Inspiration] that they possessed those souls from the wasted seed, and therefore decreed circumcision upon them, to begin the repair of their soul roots.”

Kabbalistically, circumcision is meant to be a reparation for sexual sins. Even on the simplest of levels, a man’s circumcision is supposed to constantly remind him that sex is not to be abused or misused. A man is supposed to be in control of his sexual urges, and channel them only for holy purposes: building a loving relationship with one’s spouse, as well as establishing a proper, righteous family. More spiritually, the act of circumcision creates a metaphysical imprint that is meant to repair sins of a sexual nature, not only for the individual, but also on a more elevated, cosmic level.

“…After they were circumcised, their process of tikkun had begun, and they were then reincarnated into the generation of Israelites during those 130 years [in Egypt, before Moses was born]. And they were forced into difficult labour to purify them, especially to correct the sin of the Tower generation, who also built with bricks and mortar.”

The Egyptians that Joseph had commanded to be circumcised ended up reincarnating as the Israelite slaves. It was decreed upon them from Heaven that they should work hard in servitude as a means of spiritual purification. The mechanism of servitude – construction of buildings through brick and mortar – was meant to be a measure for measure retribution: just as they had built the Tower of Babel for evil means, they were now building in order to reverse their previously sinful ways.

Once their purification was complete, these souls were ready for redemption, and thus Moses was born, precisely 130 years into the timeline, just as Adam had initially created those souls over a 130 year period. It is also interesting to point out that the physical father of all these Israelite souls was Jacob, who came to Egypt when he was 130 years old (as we read next week in Genesis 47:9).

The Arizal thus gives us a profound answer, and not only to the question of why Joseph had the Egyptians circumcised. This short passage also explains why the Flood and Tower generations were particularly drawn to evil, why the Israelites had to be enslaved (since God does not decree any undeserved suffering upon anyone), and why Moses was born exactly when he was.

Ultimately, it is said that the generation of Mashiach will be a rerun of the generation of Moses. It is therefore not surprising that the world today is once again mired in sexual immorality and licentious behaviour. May God give us the strength to overcome all those challenges, and merit to see the coming redemption soon.

 

Does the Torah Allow Polygamy?

This week’s parasha, Ki Tetze, is full of intriguing Torah laws. One of these is with regards to inheritance in the case of a man having two wives, where one of them is beloved while the other is hated. This brings up a fairly big question: does the Torah permit polygamy, the practice of having multiple spouses? On the one hand, looking at passages such as the one mentioned here, it appears that the Torah does allow it. On the other hand, we see very few actual cases of polygamy in the Torah, and in those few cases, they are always painted in a negative light. So, what’s the final verdict?

Starting at the very beginning, God created Adam and Eve – one man and one woman – and commanded: “Therefore, a man shall leave his father and mother, and cleave unto his wife, and they shall become one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). Clearly, it was God’s intent that a single man unite with a single woman to become completely unified as one. Monogamy is undoubtedly the ideal.

The Talmud (Sotah 2a) further comments: “Forty days before the conception of a child, a Heavenly Voice issues forth and declares: ‘the daughter of so-and-so is designated for so-and-so’…” Thus, long before a child is even born, their spouse is already designated for them in the Heavens. This may be among the most ancient sources for the concept of soulmates. Interestingly, the same passage in the Talmud concludes that this applies specifically to a first marriage, while to pair a second marriage would be “as difficult as the Splitting of the Sea”!

Not surprisingly, essentially every case of polygamy in the Torah comes with a negative twist. The first person to have multiple wives was Lemech, in the seventh generation from Adam (Genesis 4:19). Here, Rashi writes that it became common in the time of Lemech for men to take two wives: one for reproduction, and the other simply for pleasure. The latter would be given a certain medicine that made her infertile, and would be adorned and beautified. This was a great evil, and Rashi suggests that it was one of the major reasons for the Great Flood that wiped out the Earth’s population. Further solidifying the point, the Torah explicitly states that the righteous Noah and his three sons each had a single wife.

Ten generations later, Abraham was married solely to Sarah, until it became clear that she was barren. At this point, Sarah suggested the surrogate womb of Hagar. This brought a great deal of tension into the family, and Hagar had to be expelled from their home. Later, after Sarah’s passing, Abraham formally married Hagar, who was now known as Keturah. (Although 24:6 suggests that Abraham may have had other concubines, Rashi assures us that the verse refers only to Keturah.) Abraham’s son Isaac married only Rebecca, and this couple is held up as an ideal of love and marriage. (We have explored this in more depth in the past; see: ‘Isaac and Rebecca: the Secret to Perfect Marriage’ in Garments of Light.)

Jacob, too, only wished to marry Rachel. However, his father-in-law Laban tricked him into first marrying her sister Leah. Although he could have technically divorced her, Jacob took pity on Leah, as no one wanted to marry her. With Rachel’s consent, he kept Leah as a wife, but never loved her. This alludes directly to the passage in this week’s Torah portion that describes a man with two wives, one beloved, and one despised. Later, when Rachel and Leah were barren, they too gave their maidservants (Bilhah and Zilpah) to Jacob as surrogates in order to bear more children. Jacob may be the only righteous Torah figure that can be described as polygamous. Ultimately, the competition between his wives, and later between their respective children, only brought Jacob endless troubles, and he himself stated that his life was a miserable one (Genesis 46:9).

Having said that, the cases of Jacob and Abraham illustrate why the Torah seems to allow polygamy, and does not expressly forbid it. Throughout most of history, the average person could not survive on their own. There were no condos for rent, no fully-stocked supermarkets, and no police departments to call. People generally had to construct their own homes, grow the bulk of their own food, and defend their property by themselves. This required a lot of hands, and very large families. Unfortunately, that wasn’t always possible.

For instance, if a woman was unable to have children, it would make it very hard for the couple to make a living. Thus, instead of abandoning their wives, men would take on another. A good example is that of Elkanah, who married Peninah because his beloved Hannah was barren. Peninah gave him ten sons, yet he always loved Hannah more than anything (I Samuel 1:5-8).

Further exacerbating the problem was that oftentimes the population of women far outnumbered that of men, since entire male populations could be decimated in battle. In order to survive, several women would have to marry a single man. (This also helps to explain why it is polygyny, the practice of having multiple wives, that predominates, and not polyandry, the practice of having multiple husbands).

And yet, polygamy was still extremely rare in the Jewish world. Joseph and his brothers, Amram, Moses*, Aaron, Joshua, Caleb, and just about every other great Torah figure was monogamous. The kings of Israel were permitted to take on multiple wives, but mainly for the sake of political alliances. Most famously, King Solomon had one thousand wives and concubines, yet these were certainly not for his own pleasure. Rather, they were marriages for political purposes that allowed him to bring peace to the entire region (hence his fateful name, Shlomo, which means “peace”). This, too, ended in disaster though, and was never attempted again by any other Hebrew king.

Further on, the Sages of the Talmud were monogamous, and by the Middle Ages, Rabbeinu Gershom formally banned polygamy. Today, it is essentially unheard of in the Jewish world, as well as in the Western world at large. Once again, this could very well be a reflection of the world approaching a perfected state, and a return to the Garden of Eden, where a pair of soulmates – one male and one female – can unite as one, as God originally intended.

'Garden of Eden', by Thomas Cole

‘Garden of Eden’, by Thomas Cole

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*Numbers 12:1 may make it seem like Moses had a second wife, but the Midrash explains that after Moses fled Egypt in his youth, he lived in Cush (likely modern-day Ethiopia) and married there, though he never consummated that marriage. Because of this, he left Cush and made his way to Midian, where he married his one true wife, Tzipora.