Why Slavery?

Shemot

Exodus 1:1 - 6:1

Précis: With this parasha, we begin the second book of the Bible, Exodus. In Hebrew, the title for this book is “Shemot” (names) because the first verses begin with a listing of “names” of the Israelites who came down to Egypt with Jacob, to dwell in Goshen in response to Joseph’s and Pharaoh’s offer. A new Pharaoh has arisen who “does not remember Joseph.” He enslaves the Israelites and orders the killing of all male children. A Levite male child is born, is hidden by his parents, and is sent down the river in a reed basket where he is saved by Pharaoh’s daughter. He is subsequently identified as Moses.

            Nothing appears in the text about Moses’ childhood, other than that he is raised in the house of Pharaoh. As an adult, Moses witnesses a taskmaster beating a Hebrew and slays the taskmaster and, fearing disclosure, flees to the desert. There, Moses becomes a shepherd in the camp of Jethro, and encounters the burning bush and is told to free the Israelites. Moses and Aaron go before Pharaoh and ask that the people be freed to worship God in the desert. They are refused, and the parasha ends with God telling Moses, “You now will see what I will do to Pharaoh.”

Ex. 1:8 “Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who knew not Joseph.”

            As we begin the book of Shemot, with the sudden enslavement of the Jewish People, one can reasonably ask the following question: what did the Israelites do to deserve generations of slavery? Another way to ask this question is why the enslavement was “necessary.” I am hardly the first to ponder the question of why a just God would punish generations of Israelites with slavery. Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, former Chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary, has reviewed some of the traditional commentary in an article [reprinted in MyJewishLearning.com (12/14/10)].

            Before agreeing to go down to Egypt, Jacob is reassured by God that Canaan will indeed be the heritage of his descendants ["I Myself will go down with you to Egypt and I Myself will also bring you back" (Gen. 46:4)]. Jacob, on his deathbed, is assured that he will be buried with his ancestors at Machpela, and that promise is also fulfilled. Joseph adds that the Israelites are in Egypt at God’s command. Perhaps Joseph recalls God’s statement to Abraham (Gen. 15:13) that his descendants would be enslaved in a foreign land for 400 years before being restored to the Promised Land.

            Schorsch notes that the first “answer” for why slavery was required is found in the text itself: Canaan is not empty and its inhabitants are not yet wholly unworthy of it ["For the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet complete" (Gen. 15:16)]. This implies that there will be a “just war” to oust the inhabitants, but only once they have engaged in behaviors sufficiently “evil” to justify their eviction. In this light, the delay in taking the Land is to wait for the inhabitants to fully merit expulsion. But this doesn’t explain why slavery of the Israelites was required; they could have leaved peacefully in exile while the Cannaites did whatever was necessary to earn God's scorn.  

            A second explanation is found in midrash, suggesting that only through redemption from slavery could the Israelites be prepared to acknowledge God’s sovereignty (Mekhilta d'R. Yishmael, Howoritz/Rabin ed., p. 219). As Schorsch says, “the context for covenant is redemption... without the Exodus there would have been no Sinai.”

            A third (although similar) justification for the slavery is that it was a necessary prerequisite for the Israelites to be named a “Chosen People.” In order to be a “light to the nations” and display the attributes to which all humanity was to strive, they first had to experience the depths of the helplessness of slavery. Only out of that experience could they develop a society which would treasure justice and compassion for others.

Given our history, one could ask, like Tevye might say, “why can’t you chose somebody else once in a while?"

Forgetting one's troubles?

Vayigash

Genesis 44:18 - 48:27

Précis: We approach the end of the Joseph saga. Benjamin is being held by Joseph as the alleged thief of a gold cup. Judah comes near (vayigash) Joseph, and begs for his brother’s life, offering himself as a substitute. Joseph is overcome and reveals himself to his brothers, forgiving them for selling him into slavery, stating that it was all part of God’s plan. Joseph sends them back home to bring Jacob and their families down to Egypt in order to survive the upcoming famine. They comply, and Joseph arranges for them to reside in the land of Goshen, living off “the fat of the land” at Pharaoh’s insistence. During the remainder of the famine, Joseph purchases land and cattle for Pharaoh, making serfs of the Egyptian people in exchange for the grain stored during the seven years of plenty. The Israelites prosper and multiply.

Gen. 45:3 “And Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?’”

            As Bruce Kadden has asked, (10 Minutes of Torah 12/17/12) “Are there any more moving words in the entire Torah than the question Joseph asks immediately upon revealing his identity to his brothers: ‘Is my father [really] alive?’” Joseph has spent decades hiding his identity and disassociating himself from his family.This seems a rhetorical question, since his brothers have spoken about their father repeatedly. Of course Jacob is still alive!

             I have always been concerned by this question in another way which speaks to Joseph’s reputation as a righteous man. How is it that he never contacted his father in Canaan during his years of rule in Egypt (at least nine years at the time of his reunion with his brothers)? Could he not have sent a messenger? (Or, as Mel Brooks’ 2000 Year Old Man might have said, “He couldn’t call? Send a letter? Nothing? He doesn’t call, what a terrible son!”)

I am certainly not the first to wonder at Joseph’s silence; many of the Sages and commentators (including Rambam) wondered at Joseph’s failure to communicate. Some suggest that it was done as a kindness: by contacting his father, Joseph would have needed to reveal the perfidy of his brothers to their father, and he was reluctant to harm Jacob. On the other hand, perhaps Joseph did not want to remember. The text tells us that he named his first son Manasseh “For God has made me forget all the troubles I endured in my father's house” (Gen. 41:51).

Is it possible that Joseph actually blamed his father? After all, Jacob had to know that the brothers were hostile towards Joseph, even before he sent Joseph off to check out his brothers, having given him his splendid outfit. Thinking through his travails, it is not impossible to imagine that Joseph came to resent his father’s role in the chain of events. (In this light, we may also remember that Jacob himself did not contact his father during his twenty years with Laban, so Joseph was acting just as his own father had acted.) By withholding Benjamin, Joseph may have been lashing back at Jacob. Joseph may have thought that his father should have been protecting him from his brothers’ fury.

But now those same brothers are before him. Joseph was ready to reveal himself to them only when they demonstrated their good faith by offering to substitute themselves for Benjamin. 

In the best light, Joseph’s question, perhaps, could be read as more of a declaration than as a question: “My father is still alive, and we can all be reunited again.” This may teach us that whatever hurts we commit against each other, when there is real and honest t’shuvah, reconciliation is possible.