Though I'm disappointed that St. Louis is only number 51.
As they say, if you don't like the weather, wait a few hours.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Did you realize
If Oedipus had been an Amalekite convert to Judaism, then he would have been allowed to marry his mother, and commanded to kill his father?
Thoughts on Vayera
"Did not he say "she is my sister", and she herself said "she is my brother"? With an innocent heart and clean hands I did this." (Breishit 20:5)
She herself - The repetition indicates the inclusion of her slaves, camels, and donkeys - "I asked them all and they said she is his sister" (Rashi there)
Such a weird interpretation - the animals tell Avimelech that Sarah is not married? What could force Rashi to say this?
There are several reasons to think in the story that Avimelech's actions might have been morally problematic on some level. A middle-aged man and woman who travel and live together are usually married, not brother and sister. Perhaps Avimelech should have known this and been more hesitant to take Sarah, even after she said she was single. This sense is reinforced by what comes later: Avimelech's household is in fact punished and God does in fact curse Avimelech very harshly.
I think Rashi wants to emphasize that, despite these considerations, in the final analysis Avimelech did nothing wrong. Rashi does this by changing the original circumstances to make Avimelech's action more justifiable. Asking the slaves, of course, simply provides more voices testifying to the same point, and making that point more believable. Asking the camels and donkeys has a qualitatively different significance. It indicates that just as Avimelech seemed to receive punishment and condemnation through miraculous means, his original actions were also justified by a miracle - by the animals telling him that Sarah was unmarried. Thus we have justification against punishment, miracle against miracle, and there is no longer a reason to say that Avimelech was guilty.
Then Abimelech called Abraham, and said to him: "What have you done to us? and how have I sinned against you, that you have brought on me and on my kingdom a great sin? You have done deeds to me that ought not to be done."
And Abimelech said to Abraham: "What did you see that made you do this thing?"
And Abraham said: "Because I thought: Surely the fear of God is not in this place; and they will kill me for my wife's sake." (Breishit 20:9-11)
Why does Avimelech speak twice? He is saying very similar things, apparently part of the same speech. But the phrase "And Avimelech said" is repeated twice. Why the repetition?
I think the text is trying to emphasize that the two halves of Avimelech's speech were, effectively, separate from each other. The first half can be summarized as "How could you have done this to me?" It is an expression of indignation, not a question. Avraham cannot answer it, but he does hang his head silently and implicitly concede that he is guilty. The second half can be summarized as "What motivated you to do this?" Once Avraham has admitted that he is in the wrong, Avimelech asks another question, more out of incredulity than anger. What could possibly lead Avraham to have done what he did? For this Avraham can, and does, supply an answer.
UPDATE: In a shiur from R' Yehudah Trofer I was introduced to the definitive article "Vayomer Vayomer" by Meir Shiloach, which discusses about 100 cases in Tanach where "he said" or similar language is repeated within a speech, and divides the cases into seven distinct categories. This would seem to be one of the cases in his first category - when a response was expected but did not come. Nechama Leibowitz is also said to have an article on the topic.
"And it came to pass, when God caused me [Avraham] to wander from my father's house, that I said to her: This is thy kindness which you shall show me; at every place we come to, say of me: He is my brother." (Breishit 20:13)
The repetition of the "she is my sister" stories in Breishit - twice with Avraham, once with Yitzchak - is strange. But this verse indicates that Avraham (and presumably Yitzchak) felt the need to tell the same lie wherever they went. Thus, it is understandable that the erroneous marriages repeat themselves. It is less understandable why Avraham and Yitzchak would tell such lies, abandoning their wives to other men, in the first place.
R' Yoni Grossman suggests that we explain their motives by looking at ancient (and modern...) Middle Eastern society. In Biblical times, a woman could not just go marry whomever pleased her. Rather, the suitor would have to approach her father or closest male relative. The suitor and the male relative would bargain. Eventually they would reach an agreement by which the woman was married off and her family got a sum of money.
Whenever Avraham said that he was Sarah's sister, people thought of him as Sarah's closest male relative. People who wanted to marry her had to ask Avraham for her hand in marriage. But Avraham could always reject them by asking for more money than they could afford. And Avraham could play the suitors against each other. "You're offering 50 sheep for my sister, but I just received an offer of 60 sheep for her. So why should I give her to you?" While Sarah was nominally on the marriage market, Avraham could ensure that she was not actually married off. Whereas if Sarah had admitted to being his wife, there would have been no legal possibility of marriage, and one of them might have killed Avraham and taken Sarah by force.
It was a dangerous game. But it in fact worked perfectly in Canaan and for a while in Egypt and Gerar. There was just one flaw. Bargaining worked fine with ordinary citizens. But if the king became interested in Sarah, then Avraham's strategy was suddenly worthless. The king could not be out-bargained, and if Avraham simply refused to marry her off, the king had the power to take her by force. Thus, despite Avraham's planning, both Pharoah and Avimelech were able to "marry" Sarah against her will.
At this point God had to interfere to rescue Sarah. Avraham's strategy was clearly successful and justified in regards to the ordinary citizens of the land. The question is whether Avraham should have foreseen that the kings would notice Sarah. I think the answer here is: in the first case (Pharoah) no, in the second case (Avimelech) yes. In Egypt it is clear that Pharoah did not see Sarah himself, but rather Pharoah's servants saw her and reported her to Pharoah, leading to Pharoah taking her. This seems to have been totally unexpected, and Avraham is not held to blame for it in the story. But with Avimelech things are different. Having run into a lustful king once, Avraham perhaps should have expected it to happen again. Thus, in the Avimelech story, it is Avraham who is to blame. According to some interpreters, the Akedah command (which follows two chapters later) is a punishment for Avraham's actions with Avimelech, and through its successful conclusion Avraham reaffirms the covenant with God which was damaged by his behavior in regard to Avimelech.
She herself - The repetition indicates the inclusion of her slaves, camels, and donkeys - "I asked them all and they said she is his sister" (Rashi there)
Such a weird interpretation - the animals tell Avimelech that Sarah is not married? What could force Rashi to say this?
There are several reasons to think in the story that Avimelech's actions might have been morally problematic on some level. A middle-aged man and woman who travel and live together are usually married, not brother and sister. Perhaps Avimelech should have known this and been more hesitant to take Sarah, even after she said she was single. This sense is reinforced by what comes later: Avimelech's household is in fact punished and God does in fact curse Avimelech very harshly.
I think Rashi wants to emphasize that, despite these considerations, in the final analysis Avimelech did nothing wrong. Rashi does this by changing the original circumstances to make Avimelech's action more justifiable. Asking the slaves, of course, simply provides more voices testifying to the same point, and making that point more believable. Asking the camels and donkeys has a qualitatively different significance. It indicates that just as Avimelech seemed to receive punishment and condemnation through miraculous means, his original actions were also justified by a miracle - by the animals telling him that Sarah was unmarried. Thus we have justification against punishment, miracle against miracle, and there is no longer a reason to say that Avimelech was guilty.
Then Abimelech called Abraham, and said to him: "What have you done to us? and how have I sinned against you, that you have brought on me and on my kingdom a great sin? You have done deeds to me that ought not to be done."
And Abimelech said to Abraham: "What did you see that made you do this thing?"
And Abraham said: "Because I thought: Surely the fear of God is not in this place; and they will kill me for my wife's sake." (Breishit 20:9-11)
Why does Avimelech speak twice? He is saying very similar things, apparently part of the same speech. But the phrase "And Avimelech said" is repeated twice. Why the repetition?
I think the text is trying to emphasize that the two halves of Avimelech's speech were, effectively, separate from each other. The first half can be summarized as "How could you have done this to me?" It is an expression of indignation, not a question. Avraham cannot answer it, but he does hang his head silently and implicitly concede that he is guilty. The second half can be summarized as "What motivated you to do this?" Once Avraham has admitted that he is in the wrong, Avimelech asks another question, more out of incredulity than anger. What could possibly lead Avraham to have done what he did? For this Avraham can, and does, supply an answer.
UPDATE: In a shiur from R' Yehudah Trofer I was introduced to the definitive article "Vayomer Vayomer" by Meir Shiloach, which discusses about 100 cases in Tanach where "he said" or similar language is repeated within a speech, and divides the cases into seven distinct categories. This would seem to be one of the cases in his first category - when a response was expected but did not come. Nechama Leibowitz is also said to have an article on the topic.
"And it came to pass, when God caused me [Avraham] to wander from my father's house, that I said to her: This is thy kindness which you shall show me; at every place we come to, say of me: He is my brother." (Breishit 20:13)
The repetition of the "she is my sister" stories in Breishit - twice with Avraham, once with Yitzchak - is strange. But this verse indicates that Avraham (and presumably Yitzchak) felt the need to tell the same lie wherever they went. Thus, it is understandable that the erroneous marriages repeat themselves. It is less understandable why Avraham and Yitzchak would tell such lies, abandoning their wives to other men, in the first place.
R' Yoni Grossman suggests that we explain their motives by looking at ancient (and modern...) Middle Eastern society. In Biblical times, a woman could not just go marry whomever pleased her. Rather, the suitor would have to approach her father or closest male relative. The suitor and the male relative would bargain. Eventually they would reach an agreement by which the woman was married off and her family got a sum of money.
Whenever Avraham said that he was Sarah's sister, people thought of him as Sarah's closest male relative. People who wanted to marry her had to ask Avraham for her hand in marriage. But Avraham could always reject them by asking for more money than they could afford. And Avraham could play the suitors against each other. "You're offering 50 sheep for my sister, but I just received an offer of 60 sheep for her. So why should I give her to you?" While Sarah was nominally on the marriage market, Avraham could ensure that she was not actually married off. Whereas if Sarah had admitted to being his wife, there would have been no legal possibility of marriage, and one of them might have killed Avraham and taken Sarah by force.
It was a dangerous game. But it in fact worked perfectly in Canaan and for a while in Egypt and Gerar. There was just one flaw. Bargaining worked fine with ordinary citizens. But if the king became interested in Sarah, then Avraham's strategy was suddenly worthless. The king could not be out-bargained, and if Avraham simply refused to marry her off, the king had the power to take her by force. Thus, despite Avraham's planning, both Pharoah and Avimelech were able to "marry" Sarah against her will.
At this point God had to interfere to rescue Sarah. Avraham's strategy was clearly successful and justified in regards to the ordinary citizens of the land. The question is whether Avraham should have foreseen that the kings would notice Sarah. I think the answer here is: in the first case (Pharoah) no, in the second case (Avimelech) yes. In Egypt it is clear that Pharoah did not see Sarah himself, but rather Pharoah's servants saw her and reported her to Pharoah, leading to Pharoah taking her. This seems to have been totally unexpected, and Avraham is not held to blame for it in the story. But with Avimelech things are different. Having run into a lustful king once, Avraham perhaps should have expected it to happen again. Thus, in the Avimelech story, it is Avraham who is to blame. According to some interpreters, the Akedah command (which follows two chapters later) is a punishment for Avraham's actions with Avimelech, and through its successful conclusion Avraham reaffirms the covenant with God which was damaged by his behavior in regard to Avimelech.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Tzniut
Why do the laws of tzniut seem to focus so much on women and female clothing, and much less on men?
Perhaps this is because until recently, if a woman had an illicit desire for a man, it was unlikely to lead to anything, because women were not socially expected or able to start illicit relationships. If a man had an illicit desire, he was more socially capable of turning it into an illicit relationship. Thus, there had to be more protections against illicit male desire than against illicit female desire.
If so, then these days when women initiate relationships to a much greater extent, men would seem to be required to be more conscious and careful about their tzniut.
Nevertheless, female tzniut undeniably still has more objective limits than male tzniut. I doubt anyone will ever be checking male sleeve lengths, for example. Possible reasons for this discrepancy include:
1) The region of Torah-defined "nakedness" which simply must be covered is larger for women. (My pet theory is that for both sexes it consists of just the genitals - after all how much clothing was Eve wearing after the sin? - so on the "nakedness" level men and women have the same clothing requirements. As support, I bring the halacha of how much clothing women must wear to make brachot. But my pet theory could be wrong.)
2) When the rabbis at some point made the decrees which form much of our current laws of tzniut, they put some of the decrees for women, but not for men, in objective form. Why? I've given a few possible reasons in this post, and there are probably others.
3) Socially, there is a greater danger that women will try to "stretch the boundaries" of modest dress, based either on their psychology (which I don't understand), or on what men are perceived to want. Thus, objective limits are needed as a clumsy way of ensuring that women's clothing is more or less appropriate. (As an example: according to some, this is why women are expected to wear skirts. It is simply too hard to define what degree of tightness would make pants immodest, while any skirt of a certain length is more or less guaranteed to be modest.)
(Somewhat based on http://www.moreshet.co.il/web/shut/shut2.asp?id=29217)
Perhaps this is because until recently, if a woman had an illicit desire for a man, it was unlikely to lead to anything, because women were not socially expected or able to start illicit relationships. If a man had an illicit desire, he was more socially capable of turning it into an illicit relationship. Thus, there had to be more protections against illicit male desire than against illicit female desire.
If so, then these days when women initiate relationships to a much greater extent, men would seem to be required to be more conscious and careful about their tzniut.
Nevertheless, female tzniut undeniably still has more objective limits than male tzniut. I doubt anyone will ever be checking male sleeve lengths, for example. Possible reasons for this discrepancy include:
1) The region of Torah-defined "nakedness" which simply must be covered is larger for women. (My pet theory is that for both sexes it consists of just the genitals - after all how much clothing was Eve wearing after the sin? - so on the "nakedness" level men and women have the same clothing requirements. As support, I bring the halacha of how much clothing women must wear to make brachot. But my pet theory could be wrong.)
2) When the rabbis at some point made the decrees which form much of our current laws of tzniut, they put some of the decrees for women, but not for men, in objective form. Why? I've given a few possible reasons in this post, and there are probably others.
3) Socially, there is a greater danger that women will try to "stretch the boundaries" of modest dress, based either on their psychology (which I don't understand), or on what men are perceived to want. Thus, objective limits are needed as a clumsy way of ensuring that women's clothing is more or less appropriate. (As an example: according to some, this is why women are expected to wear skirts. It is simply too hard to define what degree of tightness would make pants immodest, while any skirt of a certain length is more or less guaranteed to be modest.)
(Somewhat based on http://www.moreshet.co.il/web/shut/shut2.asp?id=29217)
Friday, October 20, 2006
Sun
I've been in the US for 4 days now, and I don't think I've seen the sun yet. What kind of country is this? (answer: a depressing one)
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Fish/eyes
Why is the growth of the Jewish people compared to the reproduction of fish (veyidgu lerov), and why do we "feed sins to fish" at Tashlich? One reason given is the idea that the "evil eye" does not apply to fish. But why should that be the case? The usual explanation is that they are underwater and are not seen.
This explanation has an interesting Biblical parallel. In Breishit 2:19 every animal is given a name by Adam except for the fish. Because fish are "anonymous", even if they are seen by people, presumably they are not reckoned and are thus free from the evil eye.
I don't really know what the evil eye is supposed to represent or whether it really exists today. But it is nice to see a clear Biblical source for one of its supposed characteristics, which otherwise would seem to be completely arbitrary.
This explanation has an interesting Biblical parallel. In Breishit 2:19 every animal is given a name by Adam except for the fish. Because fish are "anonymous", even if they are seen by people, presumably they are not reckoned and are thus free from the evil eye.
I don't really know what the evil eye is supposed to represent or whether it really exists today. But it is nice to see a clear Biblical source for one of its supposed characteristics, which otherwise would seem to be completely arbitrary.
Idiots
I recently received an email which included the following line (paraphrased):
"If you are not receiving this email, here is how to get onto our mailing list..."
There is really no need to comment; the line speaks for itself.
"If you are not receiving this email, here is how to get onto our mailing list..."
There is really no need to comment; the line speaks for itself.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
I don't understand
I keep getting ads on Gmail for education for learning-disabled kids. Why? How could this possibly be relevant to me or what I have written?
Possibly I have a learning disability which is preventing me from realizing the answer...
Possibly I have a learning disability which is preventing me from realizing the answer...
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Hineh mah tov...
The verse says, "basukkot teshvu shivat yamim, kol haezrach beyisrael yeshu basukot". It is a little surprising that the word "sukkot" as well as the verbs are all in the plural, especially in the second half of the verse, where a single "ezrach" is discussed. (Clearly there is no mitzvah for each individual to sit in multiple sukkot.)
Perhaps the verse is hinting that there is a communal aspect to being in the sukkah. Since, ideally, everyone makes aliyah leregel and celebrates Sukkot in Jerusalem, thus Jerusalem should be absolutely crammed with sukkot. And since people are forced to leave their sukkot every once in a while (to go to the bathroom, clean dishes, etc., just to a mention a few required exits from the sukkah), they are guaranteed to see everyone else's sukkot as well as some of the people living in them. Thus, living in the sukkah is an experience you share with the whole Jewish people. This is in contrast to the rest of the year when you are likely to regularly see only your next-door neighbors, if you have any, as well as whoever lives in the nearby town.
This communal experience on Sukkot is similar to the communal experience on Pesach, when everyone after finishing their Seder in Jerusalem would go up to the roof and sing Hallel along with the people on every other roof. The thematic meaning of each communal experience is clear. On Pesach, we commemorate that the entire people left slavery and became God's servants together. On Sukkot, we commemorate that not just individuals but the entire Jewish people are under God's protection.
Perhaps the verse is hinting that there is a communal aspect to being in the sukkah. Since, ideally, everyone makes aliyah leregel and celebrates Sukkot in Jerusalem, thus Jerusalem should be absolutely crammed with sukkot. And since people are forced to leave their sukkot every once in a while (to go to the bathroom, clean dishes, etc., just to a mention a few required exits from the sukkah), they are guaranteed to see everyone else's sukkot as well as some of the people living in them. Thus, living in the sukkah is an experience you share with the whole Jewish people. This is in contrast to the rest of the year when you are likely to regularly see only your next-door neighbors, if you have any, as well as whoever lives in the nearby town.
This communal experience on Sukkot is similar to the communal experience on Pesach, when everyone after finishing their Seder in Jerusalem would go up to the roof and sing Hallel along with the people on every other roof. The thematic meaning of each communal experience is clear. On Pesach, we commemorate that the entire people left slavery and became God's servants together. On Sukkot, we commemorate that not just individuals but the entire Jewish people are under God's protection.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Kapparah
The highlight of the the Yom Kippur Temple service is the entry of the Kohel Gadol into the innermost chamber of the Temple, first to create a cloud of incense (symbolically causing God's presence to appear), and then to sprinkle the blood of the bull and goat sin-offerings (as with every sin-offering, sprinkling blood is what causes or symbolizes the atonement; the unique part of the Yom Kippur sprinkling is its location). Through the sprinkling, atonement is achieved for the Kohen Gadol himself (through the bull, which belongs to him), and for the Jewish people (through the goat, which is taken on behalf of the entire people).
It is interesting that exactly one action is performed to the bull, and one to the goat, before their slaughter and blood-sprinkling. Regarding the bull, the Kohen Gadol must confess his sins. Regarding the goat, there is no confession. The only action performed is the drawing of lots, which distinguishes the goat which will be offered as a sacrifice from the goat which will be sent to the desert.
The sin-offerings of the Kohen Gadol and the people represent the different methods by which individuals and the Jewish people achieve atonement. The Kohen Gadol, like every individual, must confess his sins and repent in order for his sins to be atoned. But for the Jewish people as a whole, this is not necessary. The goat becomes a valid sin-offering simply by the fact that the lots chose it over the other goat. And our collective atonement is achieved simply by the fact that God has chosen the Jewish people.
Of course, the Temple service achieves atonement - "kapparah", as is mentioned repeatedly. This consists of God's renouncement of the right to punish us. But there is another purpose to Yom Kippur: "taharah", moral purification. Kapparah is repeatedly mentioned throughout the description of the Temple service. Taharah is mentioned mainly at the end of the chapter, in conjunction with the command to "afflict your soul" on Yom Kippur. The Temple service spares us from punishment, but only through soul-searching and repentance can we become better people.
It is interesting that exactly one action is performed to the bull, and one to the goat, before their slaughter and blood-sprinkling. Regarding the bull, the Kohen Gadol must confess his sins. Regarding the goat, there is no confession. The only action performed is the drawing of lots, which distinguishes the goat which will be offered as a sacrifice from the goat which will be sent to the desert.
The sin-offerings of the Kohen Gadol and the people represent the different methods by which individuals and the Jewish people achieve atonement. The Kohen Gadol, like every individual, must confess his sins and repent in order for his sins to be atoned. But for the Jewish people as a whole, this is not necessary. The goat becomes a valid sin-offering simply by the fact that the lots chose it over the other goat. And our collective atonement is achieved simply by the fact that God has chosen the Jewish people.
Of course, the Temple service achieves atonement - "kapparah", as is mentioned repeatedly. This consists of God's renouncement of the right to punish us. But there is another purpose to Yom Kippur: "taharah", moral purification. Kapparah is repeatedly mentioned throughout the description of the Temple service. Taharah is mentioned mainly at the end of the chapter, in conjunction with the command to "afflict your soul" on Yom Kippur. The Temple service spares us from punishment, but only through soul-searching and repentance can we become better people.
Brotherly Love
According to the famous midrash which I used a while back as the basis for a joke, the spot of the Temple in Jerusalem was that on which two brothers, each worried about the other's livelihood, had met while secretly giving grain to each other.
On one hand, you can categorically state that historically, this story never actually occurred. (That, however, takes away none of its significance. The details of fiction are MORE important than the details of nonfiction, because they were chosen for specific thematic reasons and don't just reflect the oddities of historical reality.) On the other hand, it is clear what the names of the brothers were.
The brother with a large family was named Yehudah. The single brother was named Binyamin. This has to be the case, because the two brothers in the midrash are fictional representations of two tribes. Yehudah was the large and powerful tribe whose territory stretched from Jerusalem to southern Israel. Binyamin was the small tribe located just north of Jerusalem. The two tribes had fought several wars with each other by David's time. When David chose a spot for the Temple, he intentionally avoided his own tribe (Yehudah) and chose Jerusalem, which was right on the border between the two tribes. He did this in order to unify and create peace between the two neighboring tribes. He succeeded, as Yehudah and Binyamin remained united for the rest of Jewish history. When the more northern tribes - which had family ties to Binyamin - split off to form their own kingdom, Binyamin did not follow.
Given this historical background, the midrash becomes almost predictable. David chose a spot which would foster love between the tribes (whose ancestors Yehudah and Binyamin were brothers); in the midrash the spot was chosen because of the love demonstrated between two brothers. The midrash is just trying to shed light on the moral motivations behind the choice of the Temple location.
Reading Tanach, you find the story of David's choice of the location, but his motivations are obscure. Reading the midrash, the history of the tribes is obscure, but the moral significance of David's choice could not be clearer. Nowadays we would put this piece of Tanach interpretation into a shiur. The midrash chose to present the same interpretation as a beautiful story.
This is a good example of a general rule which helps to explain many midrashim, perhaps most of them. Taken literally, they often seem improbable (though this one is plausible, just unverifiable). But often they are in fact allegories, or else very clearly emphasize themes from Tanach. The challenge for thoughtful readers is to identify how exactly each midrash functions as a commentary on Tanach. This can be difficult. But even if you don't succeed, the surface meaning of the midrash is often informative or inspiring, so the midrash can be appreciated even without fully understanding the logic behind it.
On one hand, you can categorically state that historically, this story never actually occurred. (That, however, takes away none of its significance. The details of fiction are MORE important than the details of nonfiction, because they were chosen for specific thematic reasons and don't just reflect the oddities of historical reality.) On the other hand, it is clear what the names of the brothers were.
The brother with a large family was named Yehudah. The single brother was named Binyamin. This has to be the case, because the two brothers in the midrash are fictional representations of two tribes. Yehudah was the large and powerful tribe whose territory stretched from Jerusalem to southern Israel. Binyamin was the small tribe located just north of Jerusalem. The two tribes had fought several wars with each other by David's time. When David chose a spot for the Temple, he intentionally avoided his own tribe (Yehudah) and chose Jerusalem, which was right on the border between the two tribes. He did this in order to unify and create peace between the two neighboring tribes. He succeeded, as Yehudah and Binyamin remained united for the rest of Jewish history. When the more northern tribes - which had family ties to Binyamin - split off to form their own kingdom, Binyamin did not follow.
Given this historical background, the midrash becomes almost predictable. David chose a spot which would foster love between the tribes (whose ancestors Yehudah and Binyamin were brothers); in the midrash the spot was chosen because of the love demonstrated between two brothers. The midrash is just trying to shed light on the moral motivations behind the choice of the Temple location.
Reading Tanach, you find the story of David's choice of the location, but his motivations are obscure. Reading the midrash, the history of the tribes is obscure, but the moral significance of David's choice could not be clearer. Nowadays we would put this piece of Tanach interpretation into a shiur. The midrash chose to present the same interpretation as a beautiful story.
This is a good example of a general rule which helps to explain many midrashim, perhaps most of them. Taken literally, they often seem improbable (though this one is plausible, just unverifiable). But often they are in fact allegories, or else very clearly emphasize themes from Tanach. The challenge for thoughtful readers is to identify how exactly each midrash functions as a commentary on Tanach. This can be difficult. But even if you don't succeed, the surface meaning of the midrash is often informative or inspiring, so the midrash can be appreciated even without fully understanding the logic behind it.
Leaving yeshiva
Yeshiva is like being at Mount Sinai. You spend a year there in order to get religion, in preparation for what comes after. Leaving yeshiva like leaving Mount Sinai. You can't be eager to do it. Witness the midrash which castigates Israel for running away from Sinai like kids from school.
Your life's purpose is fundamentally in Israel not in the desert, and once you are ready for Israel, you have to go. But you take an aron and luchot with you. A little bit of Sinai remains physically close with the Jewish people, and a little bit of yeshiva must remain with you. Not only do you try do implement the ideas you learned in yeshiva, but a certain level you must feel that you never left.
Your life's purpose is fundamentally in Israel not in the desert, and once you are ready for Israel, you have to go. But you take an aron and luchot with you. A little bit of Sinai remains physically close with the Jewish people, and a little bit of yeshiva must remain with you. Not only do you try do implement the ideas you learned in yeshiva, but a certain level you must feel that you never left.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Balanced repentance
On one hand, it is easy to give up on repentance. You recognize that some of your behavior is flawed and could use improvement. You call out to God but don't feel God answering. Even after you commit to change yourself, you find yourself slipping into your earlier behavior. You have a picture in mind of how you would like to see yourself, improved. But you see no clear path by which to get there.
On the other hand, it is easy to get the feeling that you had sins to atone for, but that now you regret them, will never repeat them, and in general have done the full measure of repentance. The yamim noraim require teshuva - but now you are close to God, you have done teshuva, and you are done with teshuva.
These are the dual challenges of the Yamim Noraim: to keep your heart up, but your head down. It's relatively easy to achieve one at the expense of the other, and whenever you work at one, the other tends to slip. It is extremely difficult to repent both out of love and out of fear. But that is the only way to achieve real character growth. Figure out in which of the two directions you are lacking. And work to bring yourself to the rigorous, painful, but morally productive emotional state in which you are vividly aware, both of the desperateness of your current condition, but also of the immense capabilities for love and growth that lie within you.
On the other hand, it is easy to get the feeling that you had sins to atone for, but that now you regret them, will never repeat them, and in general have done the full measure of repentance. The yamim noraim require teshuva - but now you are close to God, you have done teshuva, and you are done with teshuva.
These are the dual challenges of the Yamim Noraim: to keep your heart up, but your head down. It's relatively easy to achieve one at the expense of the other, and whenever you work at one, the other tends to slip. It is extremely difficult to repent both out of love and out of fear. But that is the only way to achieve real character growth. Figure out in which of the two directions you are lacking. And work to bring yourself to the rigorous, painful, but morally productive emotional state in which you are vividly aware, both of the desperateness of your current condition, but also of the immense capabilities for love and growth that lie within you.
Thirsty Soul
Which zemirot were written for occasions other than the ones they are currently used for? "Hamavdil", for instance, which we sing after the end of Shabbat, fits motzaei Yom Kippur (or Shabbat Shuvah?) very well. Presumably it was written with one of those occasions in mind. But that's common knowledge.
Similarly, it could be that "Tzama nafshi", which is listed as one of the Shabbat zemirot, was actually written for Rosh Hashanah. Almost every line expresses a main theme of Rosh Hashanah. (I don't have time to write this up; check for yourself.) Meanwhile, there is no mention of Shabbat. Plus, its well-known tune is not inappropriate for Rosh Hashanah.
Even if this hypothesis is wrong, and (for example) Tzama Nafshi was perhaps written for no particular occasion but just as nice religious poetry - nevertheless, all the Rosh Hashanah-like qualities make it a great song to sing on Rosh Hashanah. (Or, for that matter, Shabbat Shuvah, seeing as I missed my chance to post this before Rosh Hashanah.)
Similarly, it could be that "Tzama nafshi", which is listed as one of the Shabbat zemirot, was actually written for Rosh Hashanah. Almost every line expresses a main theme of Rosh Hashanah. (I don't have time to write this up; check for yourself.) Meanwhile, there is no mention of Shabbat. Plus, its well-known tune is not inappropriate for Rosh Hashanah.
Even if this hypothesis is wrong, and (for example) Tzama Nafshi was perhaps written for no particular occasion but just as nice religious poetry - nevertheless, all the Rosh Hashanah-like qualities make it a great song to sing on Rosh Hashanah. (Or, for that matter, Shabbat Shuvah, seeing as I missed my chance to post this before Rosh Hashanah.)
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Since it's the time of year that we look back and evaluate...
I've noticed a benefit to writing regular blog entries.
At every level of education, whenever you get a writing assignment, it is to write a certain number of pages. Thus, you end up planning ahead of time how long each part of the essay or paper will be. If it's too long or short, you add "filler" or cut things out accordingly. You follow the assigned structure, regardless of how the ideas should really be expressed best.
When writing blog entries, because the initiative is yours, you have none of those issues. There is no page requirement, so you can write every idea using exactly the number of words it takes to express it. If an idea isn't coming out right, or doesn't fit with the rest of what you wrote, you can cut it out and save it for later, or delete it entirely. If your train of thought takes you in a new and more complicated direction, there is time and space to develop that too.
Eventually you find that your thoughts and logical processes are displayed, almost graphically, on the page. If there is a weak point in your argument, it finds expression in a weak sentence. You can't fix the sentence without fixing the argument too. But once every paragraph division makes sense and every line flows smoothly into the next, you know that the argument you have just written is flawless and is guaranteed to be correct.
At every level of education, whenever you get a writing assignment, it is to write a certain number of pages. Thus, you end up planning ahead of time how long each part of the essay or paper will be. If it's too long or short, you add "filler" or cut things out accordingly. You follow the assigned structure, regardless of how the ideas should really be expressed best.
When writing blog entries, because the initiative is yours, you have none of those issues. There is no page requirement, so you can write every idea using exactly the number of words it takes to express it. If an idea isn't coming out right, or doesn't fit with the rest of what you wrote, you can cut it out and save it for later, or delete it entirely. If your train of thought takes you in a new and more complicated direction, there is time and space to develop that too.
Eventually you find that your thoughts and logical processes are displayed, almost graphically, on the page. If there is a weak point in your argument, it finds expression in a weak sentence. You can't fix the sentence without fixing the argument too. But once every paragraph division makes sense and every line flows smoothly into the next, you know that the argument you have just written is flawless and is guaranteed to be correct.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Two Different Holidays, and Two Holidays which Unite
Two Themes
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur tend to be lumped together as the "Yamim Noraim", with really long prayers, somber tunes, repentance, and so on. Perhaps surprisingly, they in fact have very different basic themes. To give a general, simplified overview:
And Thus
As expected, the Rosh Hashanah theme is easily recognized in many RH prayers, and likewise for YK. In addition, however, there are also several prayers which are recited on both holidays, but at no other time of year. Some of them combine both holidays' themes in very interesting ways.
In particular, consider the "Uvechen" prayer which is inserted into the third blessing of every RH and YK Shemoneh Esreh. I will quote successive lines of it in italics, each followed by an explanation of which holiday the line "belongs" to.
1. "In every generation ascribe kingship to God; For he alone is exalted and holy."
A brief introduction to the whole prayer. It does not express what we hope for in the future, but what we should do now, in relation to the hopes which will next be expressed. The mention of kingship links it strongly to the RH theme, while holiness links it to YK.
2. "And thus, may your name be sanctified - Hashem our God - over Israel your people, over Jerusalem your city, over Zion the home of your glory, over the kingdom of the house of David your anointed one, and over your sanctuary and Temple."
A pure YK prayer. It calls for God to redeem the Jewish people and restore the Temple, and it mentions sanctity. There is no universalism or mention of power or kingship, ideas which the RH theme emphasizes.
3. "And thus, place your fear - Hashem our God - over all your handiwork, and your terror over all that you created. Let all beings see you, and all creations bow down to you; let them form one association to perform your will wholeheartedly. For as we know - Hashem our God - dominion is yours, strength is in your left hand and power in your right, and your name is awesome over all that you created."
A pure RH prayer. God's power over all mankind is repeatedly mentioned. The special relationship with Israel is not.
4. "And thus - Hashem - grant honor to your people, praise to those who fear you, hope to those who seek you, fluency to those who beseech you, happiness to your land, joy to your city, fulfilled destiny to David your servant, and resumed light to the son of Yishai, your anointed one - soon, in our days."
A pure YK prayer. Not only does it repeatedly mention the fulfillment of the God/Israel relationship, but it emphasizes the prayers of those who are repenting and calling out to God.
5. "And thus, the righteous will see and rejoice; the upright will revel; the devout will call out in delight - for corruption will disappear, and all evil will evaporate like smoke, when the reign of wickedness is removed from the earth."
The RH theme dominates here. The focus is the removal of evil from the entire world. The righteous people repeatedly mentioned could be non-Jewish. Even if they are specifically Jews, that fact is not considered important.
6. "And may you rule - Hashem our God - soon, alone, over all your creations; on Mount Zion the home of your glory, and in Jerusalem your holy city."
This line, the climax of the prayer, combines the RH and YK themes. One one hand, God will reign over the entire world. On the other hand, the Jewish people will be redeemed and returned to the Temple in Jerusalem. By suggesting that God will rule - but rule "in" Jerusalem - the goals of the two holidays are fused together.
7. "As it is written, 'Hashem will rule forever; your God, Zion, for all generations. Halleluyah.' "
We conclude with a Biblical verse to reinforce the requests. Here too, God rules - but specifically from Jerusalem. Thus, as in the final request, the two holidays' themes are united.
In Summary
This particular prayer I see as an "anthem" of the Yamim Noraim. It expresses the themes of each holiday, alternating between one and the other. Lines 2 and 4 relate to Yom Kippur; 3 and 5 relate to Rosh Hashanah. In the remaining lines - 1, 6, 7 - the goals of the two holidays are united. God will be recognized by all. And Israel will repent and be restored. These goals are distinct, and each has a separate holiday devoted to it. But in the final analysis, in the view of Judaism, they are inseparable.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur tend to be lumped together as the "Yamim Noraim", with really long prayers, somber tunes, repentance, and so on. Perhaps surprisingly, they in fact have very different basic themes. To give a general, simplified overview:
- Rosh Hashanah's purpose is to commemorate the fact that God is king of the universe. This is necessary background for the holidays which follow later in the month. The shofar has two main historical purposes: as a declaration of solemnity (like at a king's coronation), and as a kind of siren in wartime, connoting a sense of urgency and crisis. Both are appropriate for Rosh Hashanah. Historical allusions in the prayers (the Patriarchs, Noach, and Mount Sinai) are less relevant to Jewish history than they are to creating a sense of God's authority, power, and awe over the whole world. We request, mainly, that these qualities be made obvious and recognized by all mankind.
- Yom Kippur begins with Israel's sin regarding the golden calf. Atonement for this sin was achieved through Moshe's prayer, and more formally through special sacrifices in the newly built Mishkan. In later history, these are paralleled by communal repentance and the Temple service. Thus, our prayers focus on confession, on forgiveness based on God's special relationship with the Jewish people, and on (restoration of) the Temple service. God's holiness is emphasized more than God's power.
And Thus
As expected, the Rosh Hashanah theme is easily recognized in many RH prayers, and likewise for YK. In addition, however, there are also several prayers which are recited on both holidays, but at no other time of year. Some of them combine both holidays' themes in very interesting ways.
In particular, consider the "Uvechen" prayer which is inserted into the third blessing of every RH and YK Shemoneh Esreh. I will quote successive lines of it in italics, each followed by an explanation of which holiday the line "belongs" to.
1. "In every generation ascribe kingship to God; For he alone is exalted and holy."
A brief introduction to the whole prayer. It does not express what we hope for in the future, but what we should do now, in relation to the hopes which will next be expressed. The mention of kingship links it strongly to the RH theme, while holiness links it to YK.
2. "And thus, may your name be sanctified - Hashem our God - over Israel your people, over Jerusalem your city, over Zion the home of your glory, over the kingdom of the house of David your anointed one, and over your sanctuary and Temple."
A pure YK prayer. It calls for God to redeem the Jewish people and restore the Temple, and it mentions sanctity. There is no universalism or mention of power or kingship, ideas which the RH theme emphasizes.
3. "And thus, place your fear - Hashem our God - over all your handiwork, and your terror over all that you created. Let all beings see you, and all creations bow down to you; let them form one association to perform your will wholeheartedly. For as we know - Hashem our God - dominion is yours, strength is in your left hand and power in your right, and your name is awesome over all that you created."
A pure RH prayer. God's power over all mankind is repeatedly mentioned. The special relationship with Israel is not.
4. "And thus - Hashem - grant honor to your people, praise to those who fear you, hope to those who seek you, fluency to those who beseech you, happiness to your land, joy to your city, fulfilled destiny to David your servant, and resumed light to the son of Yishai, your anointed one - soon, in our days."
A pure YK prayer. Not only does it repeatedly mention the fulfillment of the God/Israel relationship, but it emphasizes the prayers of those who are repenting and calling out to God.
5. "And thus, the righteous will see and rejoice; the upright will revel; the devout will call out in delight - for corruption will disappear, and all evil will evaporate like smoke, when the reign of wickedness is removed from the earth."
The RH theme dominates here. The focus is the removal of evil from the entire world. The righteous people repeatedly mentioned could be non-Jewish. Even if they are specifically Jews, that fact is not considered important.
6. "And may you rule - Hashem our God - soon, alone, over all your creations; on Mount Zion the home of your glory, and in Jerusalem your holy city."
This line, the climax of the prayer, combines the RH and YK themes. One one hand, God will reign over the entire world. On the other hand, the Jewish people will be redeemed and returned to the Temple in Jerusalem. By suggesting that God will rule - but rule "in" Jerusalem - the goals of the two holidays are fused together.
7. "As it is written, 'Hashem will rule forever; your God, Zion, for all generations. Halleluyah.' "
We conclude with a Biblical verse to reinforce the requests. Here too, God rules - but specifically from Jerusalem. Thus, as in the final request, the two holidays' themes are united.
In Summary
This particular prayer I see as an "anthem" of the Yamim Noraim. It expresses the themes of each holiday, alternating between one and the other. Lines 2 and 4 relate to Yom Kippur; 3 and 5 relate to Rosh Hashanah. In the remaining lines - 1, 6, 7 - the goals of the two holidays are united. God will be recognized by all. And Israel will repent and be restored. These goals are distinct, and each has a separate holiday devoted to it. But in the final analysis, in the view of Judaism, they are inseparable.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
13 Middot
(Credit for this mostly to R' Menachem Leibtag)
The core of the slichot (and Yom Kippur) prayers is the 13 Middot or Attributes of God. In selichot, they are recited over and over with various songs and poems in between. At first glance they seem like a kind of magic spell which instantly gets you forgiveness for your sins. But that would be very strange and, I think, foreign to Judaism. What, in fact, do they mean? Why are they recited?
If you look at the Ten Commandments, you will notice something interesting. They include not just commandments and reasons for the commandments, but also descriptions of God. For example, God is "zealous" ("kana", 2nd commandment) and unforgiving to sinners (3rd commandment).
Historically, the Ten Commandments were written on tablets and given to Moshe. But after the sin of the golden calf, Moshe broke the tablets. This symbolized a more important fact: that the covenant signified by the 10 Commandments was now nullified. It had to be, because a zealous and unforgiving God could not coexist with a sinning Jewish people. When Moshe went back to God, there were two options. Either the Jewish people would be annihilated. Or else, God's attributes would have to change.
If you make a list of all the attributes of God in the second and third Commandments, and compare them to the 13 Middot (though the order is different), you will find that the "zealous" attributes in the Commandments have "non-zealous" parallels among the Middot. For example, "el kana" is replaced by "el rachum vechanum", "lo yenakeh" by "venakeh", "poked avon" by "nose avon", and so on. After the sin of the golden calf, God made a new covenant with the Jewish people. The actual commandments were unchanged (and so did not have to be repeated). But God's manner of relating to the Jewish people did change. Absolute justice was replaced by a mixture of justice and forgiveness. The changes were recorded for posterity in the 13 Middot, which represent a new set of tablets and a new covenant.
Obviously, God cannot forgive every sin, all the time, nor would that be desirable. After the 13 Middot, the Torah still sometimes mentions God's zeal, jealousy, and unforgiving justice. Sometimes God will be merciful, and sometimes not. Whenever we mention the 13 Middot in prayers, we are alluding to both covenants. We are praying that God act according to the later, merciful covenant, though the earlier model is still an option as well.
"Zechor lanu hayom brit shlosh esreh" - "Remember for us, today, the covenant of the 13 attributes"
The core of the slichot (and Yom Kippur) prayers is the 13 Middot or Attributes of God. In selichot, they are recited over and over with various songs and poems in between. At first glance they seem like a kind of magic spell which instantly gets you forgiveness for your sins. But that would be very strange and, I think, foreign to Judaism. What, in fact, do they mean? Why are they recited?
If you look at the Ten Commandments, you will notice something interesting. They include not just commandments and reasons for the commandments, but also descriptions of God. For example, God is "zealous" ("kana", 2nd commandment) and unforgiving to sinners (3rd commandment).
Historically, the Ten Commandments were written on tablets and given to Moshe. But after the sin of the golden calf, Moshe broke the tablets. This symbolized a more important fact: that the covenant signified by the 10 Commandments was now nullified. It had to be, because a zealous and unforgiving God could not coexist with a sinning Jewish people. When Moshe went back to God, there were two options. Either the Jewish people would be annihilated. Or else, God's attributes would have to change.
If you make a list of all the attributes of God in the second and third Commandments, and compare them to the 13 Middot (though the order is different), you will find that the "zealous" attributes in the Commandments have "non-zealous" parallels among the Middot. For example, "el kana" is replaced by "el rachum vechanum", "lo yenakeh" by "venakeh", "poked avon" by "nose avon", and so on. After the sin of the golden calf, God made a new covenant with the Jewish people. The actual commandments were unchanged (and so did not have to be repeated). But God's manner of relating to the Jewish people did change. Absolute justice was replaced by a mixture of justice and forgiveness. The changes were recorded for posterity in the 13 Middot, which represent a new set of tablets and a new covenant.
Obviously, God cannot forgive every sin, all the time, nor would that be desirable. After the 13 Middot, the Torah still sometimes mentions God's zeal, jealousy, and unforgiving justice. Sometimes God will be merciful, and sometimes not. Whenever we mention the 13 Middot in prayers, we are alluding to both covenants. We are praying that God act according to the later, merciful covenant, though the earlier model is still an option as well.
"Zechor lanu hayom brit shlosh esreh" - "Remember for us, today, the covenant of the 13 attributes"
Monday, September 11, 2006
Esther and Batsheva II
Apologies to those who already saw this piece in English some months back. Of course nobody is going to read it in Hebrew. That's not a problem, though, as I translated it just to test my Hebrew writing skills. My posting it was just the excuse and motivation for translating it.
מגילת אסתר(ב,ז) מספר שאחרי שמתו ההורים של אסתר, מרדכי לקח את אסתר "לבת". לפי המדרש הידוע, אסתר באמת הפך להיות האישה של מרדכי ולא בת החורגת שלו. אני רוצה לחקור את הרקע ואת המסר של מדרש זו.
יש (לפחות) עוד מקום אחד בתנ"ך ששם מתייחסים לאשת מישהו כמו לבתו - בסיפור דוד ובת-שבע (שמואל ב יב). כשהנביא נתן רוצה להוכיח את דוד על חטאו עם בת-שבע, נתן מספר משל של איש רש בעל רק "כבשה אחת קטנה" שהוא מגדל באהבה, עד ש"ותהי לו לבת". לצערו, איש עשיר אחד בעל הרבה עדרי צאן גונב את הכבשה היחידה של הרש, ושוחט ואוכל אותה. דוד, כששומע את הסיפור, כועס ודורש את עונש העשיר. נתן משיב לו שהוא עתה הרשיע את עצמו. במשל, דוד מייצג את העשיר, אוריה את הרש, ואישתו בת-שבע את הכבשה שהרש חישב לה כ"בת".
כשהמדרש אומר שה"בת" של מרדכי באמת היתה "אישתו", אני חושב שהוא רומז לבת-שבע, ה"אישה" האחרת שנקראה "בת". יש עוד הקבלות ברורות בין הסיפורים. מרדכי עומד במקום אוריה. יותר חשוב, המלך אחשורוש עומד במקום המלך דוד. כמו שדוד כפה קשר של ניאוף בינו לבין בת-שבע, אחשורוש כפה נישואי תערובת עם אסתר.
מה שמעניין זה שהקשר של ניאוף בין דוד לבת-שבע הפך יותר מאוחר להיות לגיטימי לגמרי. אחרי מות אוריה, דוד לקח אותה כאישה חוקית. בנם היה שלמה, שהביא את ישראל לשיא עוצמתו, שבנה את בית המקדש הראשון, ושבו נמשך שלשלת המלכות בית של בית דוד. המדרש שלנו מציע שמשהו דומה קרה בין אחשורוש לאסתר. למרות שהתחלת זיווגם היתה בחטא, בסוף היא גרמה להצלת היהודים מגזרת המוות של המן. אפשר עוד לומר שההקבלה הזאת היא מקור למדרש אחרת, האומרת שהמלך דריוש - שנתן רשות ליהודים לבנות את בית המקדש השני - היה בנם של אחשורוש ואסתר.
לפי מדרשנו, המסר המשותפת של אסתר ובת-שבע זה שכשאתה נמצא במצב בעייתי מבחינה רוחנית, אסור לך להתייאש או להתפרש מהמצב. אלא, עליך - כמו שעשו דוד ואסתר - להתענות, לוודות את החטא, ולעבוד עם כל הכח שיש לך כדי להציל את המצב ולהפוך את הגזרה. אז, חטאי מוות והשמדה העומדת להתרחש יכולים להיהפך לגאולת העם ולבניית בית המקדש. אם הכוונה והמאמץ הם נכונים, מתוך המשבר הגדול יכולה לבוא הגאולה השלמה.
מגילת אסתר(ב,ז) מספר שאחרי שמתו ההורים של אסתר, מרדכי לקח את אסתר "לבת". לפי המדרש הידוע, אסתר באמת הפך להיות האישה של מרדכי ולא בת החורגת שלו. אני רוצה לחקור את הרקע ואת המסר של מדרש זו.
יש (לפחות) עוד מקום אחד בתנ"ך ששם מתייחסים לאשת מישהו כמו לבתו - בסיפור דוד ובת-שבע (שמואל ב יב). כשהנביא נתן רוצה להוכיח את דוד על חטאו עם בת-שבע, נתן מספר משל של איש רש בעל רק "כבשה אחת קטנה" שהוא מגדל באהבה, עד ש"ותהי לו לבת". לצערו, איש עשיר אחד בעל הרבה עדרי צאן גונב את הכבשה היחידה של הרש, ושוחט ואוכל אותה. דוד, כששומע את הסיפור, כועס ודורש את עונש העשיר. נתן משיב לו שהוא עתה הרשיע את עצמו. במשל, דוד מייצג את העשיר, אוריה את הרש, ואישתו בת-שבע את הכבשה שהרש חישב לה כ"בת".
כשהמדרש אומר שה"בת" של מרדכי באמת היתה "אישתו", אני חושב שהוא רומז לבת-שבע, ה"אישה" האחרת שנקראה "בת". יש עוד הקבלות ברורות בין הסיפורים. מרדכי עומד במקום אוריה. יותר חשוב, המלך אחשורוש עומד במקום המלך דוד. כמו שדוד כפה קשר של ניאוף בינו לבין בת-שבע, אחשורוש כפה נישואי תערובת עם אסתר.
מה שמעניין זה שהקשר של ניאוף בין דוד לבת-שבע הפך יותר מאוחר להיות לגיטימי לגמרי. אחרי מות אוריה, דוד לקח אותה כאישה חוקית. בנם היה שלמה, שהביא את ישראל לשיא עוצמתו, שבנה את בית המקדש הראשון, ושבו נמשך שלשלת המלכות בית של בית דוד. המדרש שלנו מציע שמשהו דומה קרה בין אחשורוש לאסתר. למרות שהתחלת זיווגם היתה בחטא, בסוף היא גרמה להצלת היהודים מגזרת המוות של המן. אפשר עוד לומר שההקבלה הזאת היא מקור למדרש אחרת, האומרת שהמלך דריוש - שנתן רשות ליהודים לבנות את בית המקדש השני - היה בנם של אחשורוש ואסתר.
לפי מדרשנו, המסר המשותפת של אסתר ובת-שבע זה שכשאתה נמצא במצב בעייתי מבחינה רוחנית, אסור לך להתייאש או להתפרש מהמצב. אלא, עליך - כמו שעשו דוד ואסתר - להתענות, לוודות את החטא, ולעבוד עם כל הכח שיש לך כדי להציל את המצב ולהפוך את הגזרה. אז, חטאי מוות והשמדה העומדת להתרחש יכולים להיהפך לגאולת העם ולבניית בית המקדש. אם הכוונה והמאמץ הם נכונים, מתוך המשבר הגדול יכולה לבוא הגאולה השלמה.
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