Three Dreams, One Destiny

 

“Joseph was the great dreamer of the Torah, and his dreams for the most part came true. But not in a way he or anyone else could have anticipated.” - Rabbi Lord  Jonathan Sacks

Dreams are one of the main themes in recent Parashot. Parashat Vayetze narrates Yaakov's dream at Bet-El. This week’s Parashat Vayeshev, recounts two dreams experienced by Yoseph, Yaakov’s favourite son. Before delving further into the significance of these dreams and the connection between them, it is important to understand them in the context of the time and place in which they occurred.

Dreams, in general, have held a consistent and powerful place in human civilization—from politics and prophecy to psychology and art. Across cultures and eras, they were rarely seen as random inner noise; rather, they were treated as messages, omens, or revelations that could redirect nations and reshape lives.

In the Ancient Near East, the cradle of Jewish civilization, dreams were commonly understood as royal legitimation. Mesopotamian rulers recorded nocturnal visions as proof of divine endorsement, elevating the king to semi-divine status and rendering political authority sacred. Egyptian dream manuals, discovered in the Chester Beatty Papyrus, treated dreams as coded celestial messages decipherable by specialists of the court. Their purpose was not moral formation but statecraft, empire stability, and royal self-preservation. 

Against this backdrop, the dreams of Yaakov and Yoseph invert the entire cultural logic. Unlike Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia where dreams enthroned power, in the Torah, dreams serve a purpose. While the ancient world used dreams to elevate man to the gods, the Torah uses dreams to anchor man to G-d. (John Walton, Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament, 2006).

Yaakov does not become king by dreaming, nor does Yoseph become divine by interpretation. Instead, their dreams deepen covenantal obligation. We encounter their dreams which, in the words of Sacks, “came true,” yet “not in a way, the dreamers themselves, or anyone else could have anticipated.” (Covenant and Conversation Studies in Spirituality, Mikketz).

The dream that greets Yaakov at Bet-El and the two dreams that shape Yoseph’s destiny, according to some Jewish scholars, are not isolated mystical events but stages of a single unfolding covenant.

Though scholars such as, Rash"i and Sforno do not explicitly connect the dream narratives of father and son (Yaakov’s ladder in Bresheet 28:12-15) and Yoseph’s dreams of the sheaves bowing, in Bresheet 37:7 and the celestial bodies submitting, in 37:9), in any explicit comment, they create a conceptual bridge, indirectly, through one key motif, movement from revelation of choseness to its realization. Yaakov’s vision of the ladder reveals a cosmos in which heaven descends to earth, affirming divine presence, protection, and promise. The sheaves and the celestial bodies, in Yoseph’s dreams, mark not only his personal ascent but the historical movement of Yisrael into exile and eventual redemption. Yaakov dreams of Divine protection “I am with you, I will protect you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land… (Bresheet 28:15).” Yoseph’s dreams set in motion the events that fulfill that protection, physical, economical and spiritual. Yaakov dreams the Covenant, Yoseph dreams its implementation in human history. 

The one place, however, where Rash”i comes close to implicitly linking Yoseph’s dreams to his father’s own ladder experience is found in chapter 37. There (37:11) Yoseph tells his dream to his father. Rash”i notes that Yaakov “guards the matter.” Rash”i  bases his assertion on Midrash Bresheet Rabbah 84:12 which interprets this verse as, “Yaakov waits expectancy to see its fulfillment. In other words, Yaakov who once dreamed of his destiny recognizes a true dream when one is narrated.

Some modern scholars such as Robert Alter (The Art of Biblical Narrative,1981) explicitly connect Yaakov’s dream to Yoseph’s two dreams in our Parashah. He refers to Yaakov’s dream as a vision of space and speaks of a  (spiritual → earthly). Yoseph’s dreams, on the other hand, are a “horizontal axis of human power and family structure” strewn with socio-political symbolism (Yisrael → Nations).

Alter’s terminology is reinforced albeit implicitly, in interpretive trajectory, by Rabbi Sacks. Sacks describes Yaakov’s encounter “vayifga ba’Makom”*(Bresheet 28:11) as a moment of transcendent revelation and covenant renewal, i.e. a “vertical” moment of Divine-human communication.

In his essay, “Three Approaches to Dreams (Miketz” Covenant & Conversation), Sacks notes that in addition to the gift of dreams, the gift of their interpretation, Yoseph was also endowed with the ability to implement them, as we is evident in the next Parashah. There, Sacks sees his dreams as the start of a trajectory of political, economic and social leadership, dreams that lead to action, administration and implementation on earth (Yisrael → nations, horizontal).

The ladder at Bet-El affirms not dominion but a moral and spiritual duty. G-d descends not to enthrone Yaakov but to bind him to mission. Yoseph’s twin dreams of sheaves and stars do not coronate him in the mythic fashion of the Ancient Near East. They conscript him into service—feeding nations, sustaining his family, and ushering Israel into its first experience of exile. 

The three dreams are forged into a single symphony where destiny is spoken, first to the father, and then enacted through the son.

Shabbat Shalom and Channukah Sameach, Am Yisrael and Fellow Jews.

*“He came upon a place,” in Hebrew vayifga ba-makom, also means an unexpected encounter. Later, in rabbinic Hebrew, the word ha-Makom, “the Place,” came to mean “G-d.” Hence in a poetic way the phrase vayifga ba-makom could be read as, “Jacob happened on (had an unexpected encounter with) G-d.”  “How the Light Gets In” (in Covenant & Conversation, Parashat Vayetze)

Angel, Man, or G-d, Who Was Yaakov’s Adversary at Yabbok?

 

"And Yaakov was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn" Bresheet 32: 25

The identity of the being Yaakov wrestles with, in Bresheet, 32:25-33 Parashat Vayishlach, is one of the most discussed passages in Torah literature. The account is haunted by ambiguity and has engaged the attention of many scholars.

According to Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks,"Yakkov, himself, had no doubt. It was G-d." Sacks bases his assertin on verse 32 where Yaakov says, "'I saw G-d face to face.'" Yaakov truly believes that he has seen G-d and names the place of the encounter Peniel (face of G-d).

A reader unacquainted with Jewish theology might erroneously conclude, from the verse above, that Yaakov has indeed wrestled with G-d. Yet, Judaism affirms that G-d possesses neither body nor form and rejects any notion of a physical struggle with G-d’s essence. Furthermore, Jewish belief poignatly states that no one can see G-d and live. The foundation of this belief can be found in Shemot (Exodus) 33:20 where G-d says to Moshe, "You cannot see My face, for no human can see Me and live." That also explains why Yaakov is grateful that, following what he believes he has just experienced, his "soul was preserved." (verse 32).  

How, then, have Jewish thinkers resolved the vagueness surrounding this episode?

Most classical commentators say Yaakov wrestled with an angelic being (Malach) which in the Jewish theology simply means “a messenger.” The “man,” many assert, is a Malach whose presence is an epiphany of G-d.

Rash”i (Mikraot Gedolot), Midrash Bresheet Rabbah (77:3) and Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer 37 say explicitly that it was the guardian angel of Esav (sar shel Esav). The struggle, as they see it, symbolizes Yaakov’s lifelong conflict with Esav and what the latter represents. They treat the fight as a manifestation of the metaphysical conflict between the descendants of Yaakov and Esav. 

Ramba”n (Ramba”n Al HaTorah- Mossad HaRav Kook Edition Volume 1 p. 409-412), like many other commentators, believes that the “man” was a Malach since angles can and do appear in physical, tangible forms. According to him, it was a real event, not a dream or vision. 

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, unlike other interpreters, focuses on the exhanges between Yaakov and his adversary, outlined in verse 30, where Yaakov asked, "Now tell me your name," and he [the man] said, "Why is it that you ask for my name?" For Hirsch, the unnamed opponent symbolizes every struggle a human faces, their every fear, every uncertainty and every moral confrontation. If the adversary had a name, Hirsch believes, the story would be about that opponent. By withholding a name, the story becomes universal: every Jew is Yaakov and every challenge is a nameless wrestler (Samson Raphael Hirsch, The Pentateuch: Translation and Commentary Bereishit, pp. ~563–567).

Modern commentators such as Nechama Leibowitz and Martin Buber, see the “man” as Yaakov’s inner self struggling with his guilt about Esav, his strife to shift from the position of Yaakov, the supplanter, who ousts his rival, to Yisrael, the one who ”wrestles with G-d and prevails” and his fear of the upcoming encounter with Esav. (Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Bereshit (Jerusalem: World Zionist Organization / E. Feldheim), Parashat Vayishlaḥ, pp. 345–347, Martin Buber, On the Bible: Eighteen Studies, “Jacob and Esau,” pp. 58–70). These interpretations may support the contention that the Torah deliberately witholds the name of the wrestler. If Yaakov were told the name, the struggle would become external rather than internal and existential.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks offers an interesting angle to the identity of Yaakov’s adversary. He notes that the ambiguity is by design. Yaakov’s opponent, he believes, may be a “man,” “angel,” “G-d” or a symbolic figure. What matters more than the identity is the meaning of the struggle, asserts Sacks, is what Yaakov becomes through it. Yaakov transforms into Yisrael and emerges as stronger, more confident, triumphant and, above all, one who holds the promise of eternity.

Am Yisrael Chai and the Eternity of Yisrael Shall Never Lie.

Shabbat Shalom

Yaakov’s Dream and the Ethics of Divine Refinement

 

"He had a dream: he beheld a ladder standing firmly on the ground and sloping upward, its top reaching up toward heaven. Angels of G-d were ascending it and descending it. He had a dream: he beheld a ladder standing firmly on the ground. And behold, G-d was standing over him. He said, “I am G-d, G-d of Abraham your forebear, and G-d of Isaac. I will give the land upon which you are lying to you and your descendants" - Bresheet 28:12-13.

Who has not read or heard of Yaakov’s famous dream which is one of the main themes of this week’s Parashah, “Vayetze,” described in Bresheet 28:10-22?

It is theologically and symbolically one of the most defining moments for Yaakov and Am Yisrael. Up until then, the Covenant belonged to Avraham and Yitzchak. The dream transforms Yaakov’s spiritual identity and establishes him as one of the three patriarchs of Am Yisrael and the Jewish People.  It is not merely a dream. It is a blueprint for Jewish destiny.

Naturally, Yaakov is overwhelmed by the dream. He is aware of his own history. He is running away from Esav after having deceived him and Yitzchak. Whether justified or not, the act created a spiritual tension. Yaakov is alone, in the world and afraid for his life. The ladder in the dream symbolizes connection, the opposite of deception and, as it seems, provokes deep self-reflection in Yaakov. 

The sages believe that Yaakov feels this burden- and fears that he may have lost G-d’s protection. In the midst of moral uncertainties, comes the dream where G-d reassures him, “I am with you….I will guard you.” (28:15). Yaakov realizes that he is now a vessel of Divine purpose and must consider his own responsibility in carrying out G-d’s plan.

What follows is a series of events that are aimed at preparing Yaakov for this very important destiny. In a way, the dream marks a transition from the “manipulative act” to a life of responsibility and suffering where the deceiver becomes the deceived, by Lavan, his uncle and future father in law who circumvents him (by replacing Rachel with Leah, his oldest daughter) and repeatedly cheats him in wages.

Our sages seem to grapple with the tension between Yaakov’s identity as a righteous, straightforward man and the chain of deceptions he undergoes later in the Parashah. Here are some of their commentaries on this pradicament. 

Chaza”l explain the dilemma in terms of middah keneged middah (measure for measure). Bresheet Rabbah (70:19). It teaches that Yaakov’s deception of Yitschak leads to his being deceived by Lavan.  G-d wants to “educate” Yaakov through an experience that mirrored his earlier act. It is not vengeance or punishment. Rather, they assert, it is for the purpose of moral refinement and spiritual growth. Yaakov must confront his own behaviour through Lavan's deceit and grow from it.

Rash"i conveys the same underlying idea. While he does not explicitly claim that Yaakov was punished for deceiving Yitzchak, he hints at it. This is reflected in Lavan’s response when Yaakov protests, “Why have you deceived me?” after discovering that Leah was substituted for Rachel. Lavan’s remark, “In our region,giving a younger daughter in marriage before the older is simply not done” (29:25-26), serves as a pointed allusion to Yaakov’s own earlier deception involving Esav, for the purpose of repairing his own earlier deception.

Siftei Chachamim (A commentary on Rash"i's commentary on the Torah and the Five Scrolls, by Shabtai Bass 1660-1680), likewise suggests that Yaakov needed to experience what deception feels like to grow into the moral stature of “Yisrael.” Again, the purpose is to cleanse, refine and elevate him.

Malbi”m (Meir Leibush ben Yehiel Michel Wisser 1809-1879) echoes a similar message. Yaakov’s earlier successes come through cleverness; Lavan forces him into a situation where only faith, patience and righteousness can succeed. The deception, according to him, teaches Yaakov to let go of manipulation. 

According to Zohar (Vayishlach 21:221), Yaakov’s departure from Eretz Yisrael to the house of Lavan is not simply a physical escape from Esav, but a descent into a spiritually dark place for the purpose of elevating holy sparks.  “Just as gold is refined in fire, so Yaakov is refined in the house of Lavan.”  Lavan’s deception is the fire that purifies truth. 

The story of Yaakov’s years in the house of Lavan confronts us with one of the Torah’s most morally provocative reversals: the deceiver becomes the deceived. Having secured the blessing through disguise and misdirection, Yaakov now meets in Lavan a master of manipulation whose schemes far surpass his own. It invites us to consider whether the Torah is offering a subtle critique, a lesson in divine justice, or a portrait of spiritual growth forged through uncomfortable self-recognition. I believe it is the latter.

Yaakov and the Birthright: Deception or Destiny?

 

"And the boys grew; and Esav was a cunning hunter, a man of the field; and Yaakov was a quiet man, dwelling in tents" Bresheet 25:27

Birthright (bechorah) in the Ancient Near East, the setting for our Parashah, was very important, socially, legally, economically, and religiously.  One of the privileges of the first born, as stated in legal texts and documents such as the Hammurabi Code (18th century BCE, laws 170-171) or the Nuzi Tablets (Hurrian culture, 15th century BCE), state that the firstborn son typically received a larger share of the inheritance, often a double portion. This was meant to maintain the family estate and ensure stability. Bechorah also meant assuming responsibility and family continuity. In some of the Ancient Near Eastern cultures, it meant a sacred status. Moreover, in most of these societies, the birthright was fixed by birth, and could not easily be sold, traded or taken away.

Understanding this background helps explain why the story of Esav and Yaakov in Toledot, in the context of Bechorah, is so dramatic.

A bird’s eye view of the bechorah episode, in the Parashah, shows that it is driven by acts of trickery, most notably Rivkah’s scheme to have Yaakov receive the patriarchal blessing meant for Esav, which Yitzchak grants due to his blindness. Several specific verses in Toledot clearly hint at, describe, or imply Yaakov’s deception of Yitzchak (and by extension Esav). 

The initiation of Rivkah’s plan of deception is evidenced in Bresheet 27: 6-10. There, Rivkah tells Yaakov, “I heard your father speaking to Esav… Now, my son, do as I command you.” 

Yaakov hesitates because Esav is hairy and he is smooth, “Perhaps my father will feel me, and I shall seem to him as a deceiver.” The verse explicitly uses the word, מתעתע (metaatea, “a deceiver”), acknowledging the deceptive plan. Yaakov fears being caught. 

Rivkah takes responsibility for the guilt when she responds by saying, “Upon me be your curse, my son” (27:13). Naturally, Rivkah understands the morally dangerous nature of the scheme. She disguises Yaakov, “She put the garments of Esav… on Yaakov… and placed the goat skins on his hands" (Bresheet 27:15-16).

However the most explicit hint of deception and statement of impersonation can be found in the following exchanges:

Yitzchak : “Who are you, my son?”

Yaakov : “I am Esav, your firstborn” (Bresheet 27:18-19).

Despite his condition (old age and blindness), Yitzchak gets suspicious. “How did you find it [the prey] so quickly?” he asks. Yaakov invokes G-d: “because the Lord your G-d caused it to happen,” to which Yitzchak responds, “The voice is the voice of Yaakov, but the hands are the hands of Esav” (Bresheet 27:20-22).

While Yaakov’s actions are debatable and raise a theological and ethical problem, especially in light of his eventual emergence as the father of the twelve tribes of Am Yisrael, there seems to be a silver lining in this narrative, as Rabbi Joel Mosbacher suggests. “The Torah,” he asserts, “is full of complex characters. You would think that in a sacred text, the personages would be perfect and morally pure-but the people in the Torah are far from that…. We see ourselves in their strengths and foibles, flaws and humanness. If they were perfect," concludes Mosbacher, “we could hold them as paragons but not relate to them. A parent can relate to Yitzchak and Rivkah. A sibling can relate to Yaakov and Esav. They are very human characters.” Personally, I am happy to see that our forefather was human just like us. At the same time, though, I could not fathom them engaging in illicit deeds.

This tension and the need to reconcile Yaakov’s righteousness with his deception has been discussed for over 2000 years. Jewish sages did not see Yaakov as “stealing” the Bechorah in the simple moral sense. Instead, they offered several explanations, legal, moral and spiritual, that show why Yaakov’s actions were justified or at least not a sin in the conventional sense. Here are some of these approaches.

Ramba”n and Rash”i, for instance, suggest that the verse “The older shall serve the younger,” (Bresheet 25:23) implies a Divine prophecy which Rivkah received and thus know that Yakkov is the chosen heir. According to them, Rivkah’s plan ensures that G-d’s will was fulfilled. She is planning the consummation of G-d’s plan. 

Chaza”l offer another explanation to the move by Rivkah and Yaakov. They  emphasize that since “Esav despised the birthright,” (Bresheet 25:34), treated it lightly, sold it of his free will and was unworthy of it. Midrash Tanchuma and Bava Batra 16b (which lists Esav’s sins on the day he sold his Birthright) describe Esav as impulsive, spiritually uninterested and engaging in immoral behaviour. Thus, according to them, Yaakov did not steal. He simply valued what Esav scorned.

Rash”i takes his defense of Yaakov one step further. His assertion is that Esav misrepresents himself to Yitzchak. Rash”i bases it on his interpretation of Bresheet 25:28, specifically on the Hebrew phrase “tzayid befiv” which literally means “game in his mouth” (referring to Esav’s hunting, trapping skills). Rash”i construes it as Esav using speech to manipulate Yitzchak.

It seems that to justify Yaakov and protect the moral standing of a patriarch, most sages elevate Esav’s guilt. Their portrayal of Esav provides a moral framework in which Yaakov’s act is not a betrayal but a correction of a long-standing deception.

Unlike the above-mentioned Jewish scholars, Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks does not focus on Esav’s demerits.  He takes a more psychological and ethical approach, showing how the story reflects deep truths about identity, destiny and family. Sacks asserts that Yaakov is not naturally deceptive. He notes that he is gentle, studious and responsible. His mother, Sacks believes, forces him to act like Esav to get a blessing that ironically was meant for his own true self, “This is the story," concludes Sacks, “of a young man forced to wear someone else’s clothes, hiding his true identity.” This is not theft. It is a crisis of identity.

Sacks, along with other commentators stress that the blessing Yaakov receives by deception is the material blessing. The Covenantal blessing, the Avrahamic promise, one that is meant for him is given openly, with full awareness, by Yitzchak later (Bresheet 28:3-4).

The blessing, as all sages agree, is not a personal prize. It is meant for the future of the Jewish People and the fulfillment of the covenant. Esav, as the text shows us, does not value it which leads us to the inevitable conclusion that the blessing was rightfully Yaakov’s and what he does is rightfully reclaiming what is already his. In the words of Sacks, “A birthright cannot be stolen from someone who does not value it.”

From Promise to Possession, The Birth of Jewish Title to Eretz Yisrael

 

Let him grant me the Cave of Machpelah, which belongs to him and is located at the edge of his field. Let him sell it to me for its full price, in your presence, so I can make it into a family burial ground.” - Bresheet 23:9

At the onset of this week’s Parashah, “Chayei Sarah,” (the life of Sarah), we are told about the death of Sarah, Avraham’s wife, in Hevron. Pursuent to her passing, Avraham purchases the Cave of Machpelah and the surrounding field in Hevron, from its owner, Ephron, the Hittite and buries her there.

One of the questions that is begging to be asked, upon reading these verses, is, if G-d has already promised the Land of Yisrael to Avraham and his descendents (“To your offspring I will give this land,” Bresheet 12:7), why must Avraham purchase a burial site, at Machpelah, for Sarah?

G-d’s promise to Avraham and his posterity gives the land spiritual legitimacy. Avraham’s purchase gives it political legitimacy. In order to establish sovereignty. Both are needed. The Divine Covenant establishes eternal rights. Avraham’s actions and deeds establish worldly recognition. Divine promises do not replace human action.

Furthermore, Avraham insists upon paying “full price” for the land, as the verse above points out, despite the offer to accept it as a gift. He wants an indisputable legal claim to ensure that no one could later challenge Jewish presence as illegitimate or dependent on any foreign entities. He knows that a Divine promise carries spiritual authority, but not necessarily a recognition in the human legal system. He understands that sovereignty is established through moral and lawful means. By paying “full price,” Avraham secures a deed that no one can contest. The negotiations with Ephron become the first legal translation of Jewish lawful ownership setting a precedent for the Jewish People’s historic and moral claim in the Promised Land.

Avraham’s insistence on  paying full price, refusing a gift, parallels other, later, key biblical passages. In 2 Samuel 24:24, king David explicitly purchases land with money, land that is connected to the legitimate ownership and future sanctity of the site he was about to procure. There, he says to Araunah, the Jebosite who offers it to him for free, " 'No, I will buy it from you for a price;I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my G-d that cost me nothing. So David bought the threshing floor and the Oxen for fifty shekels of silver.”  This site, as we later find out, becomes the future Temple Mount in Yerushalayim, “Then David said,’Here shall be the house of the Lord G-d and here the altar of burnt offering for Yisrael.’” 1Chronicles 22:1. Both these pieces of land, Sarah's burial sites and the Temple Mount were legally purchased for eternal possession, thus fulfilling the Divine promise to Avraham and his descendents. 

One of the most striking and meaningful features of Parashat Chayei Sarah, (the Life of Sarah), is its paradoxical title which opens with Sarah’s death yet gives us no further details about her life. What, on the surface, seems like a contradiction preoccupied our sages. Many of them, however, view it not as a contradiction but rather as a deep truth about life's legacy and continuity.

Midrash Rabbah expands on this idea. “Why is it written, ‘After the life of Sarah?’ To teach us that the righteous are called alive even after death.” (Bresheet Rabbah 58:1). Sarah’s legacy and her spiritual influence continue beyond her physical existence. 

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch reads the name Chayei Sarah as a theological statement. The life of Sarah, he believes, is the life that Sarah set in motion. Her death sets off Avraham’s first act of acquiring land in Canaan. Until that point Avraham is a resident alien, a ger vetoshav toshav, promised the land by G-d but not yet owning even a small piece of it. Sarah’s death gives birth to the first foothold of the Jewish nation in its promised land. Her burial place becomes a national symbol and a spiritual anchor linking future generations to the patriarchs and matriarchs buried there.

Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks builds on the same concept. In his essay Chayei Sarah (Covenant and Conversation) Sacks offers a beautiful and deeply philosophical insight into the paradoxical title of Parashat Chayei Sarah. His assertion is that in order to understand a death, one has to understand a life.  In the Torah, believes Sacks, life and death are not opposites. Those who live a life of faith, whose values and influence last beyond their days, never die. Sarah’s life, as Sacks sees it, continues through the continuity of the Covenant. Her legacy gives life to the Jewish People.

To praphrase the interpretations of our sage, Sarah’s death forces the promise of DivineInheritance, the guiding principle that dictated the journey of her life, to translate into human and legal reality.

Her death, in this sense, becomes the womb of Jewish rootedness, out of which arises Jewish life and permanence.

The Composition of Bresheet (Genesis), Chapter 22

 

In 1976, I was attending the University of California San Diego. One of the courses that I took part in was, "The Composition of the Torah.” The instructor was Professor Richard Elliot Friedman, the author of the best-seller, "Who Wrote the Bible?" It was then that I was exposed to what I am about to share with you, dear readers, in this article. Let me just add that, by sharing the information, it is not my intention to trivialize or disrespect what I consider a very sacred and revered Book. The purpose of writing it is merely to shed light on other views when approaching the study of the titular chapter.

The Torah, as many of us are raised to believe, is traditionally viewed as the word of G-d revealed to Moshe. However, as some may already know, according to some modern scholars,  such as Karl Heinrich Graf (1815-1869) and Martin Noth (1902-1968), and Richard Elliott Friedman, to name a few, it is a composite work, made up of different sources, woven together that were later combined into one book. Each voice contributes its own perspective on G-d, humanity, and Covenant thus creating a text that is both diverse and unified, ancient, yet timeless.

The first of these distinct sources, as identified by researchers, is commonly referred to as J (Yahwist) that uses YHWH for G-d’s name (which, out of respect for my Jewish tradition and my belief in G-d, I will use ONLY for academic reasons). The second one is the E (Elohist) which refers to G-d as Elohim. The other two are P (Priestly), and D (Deuteronomist). Each source tells the story of Yisrael in its own way using different variations of the Divine name and emphasizing different ideas. They reflect distinct patterns, theological perspectives and historical settings. These researchers suggest that a later redactor is thought to have woven the J and E traditions together to create a unified theological message.

Understanding these suggestions helps explain why parallel versions of certain stories such as, Bresheet 12:10-20, J source and Bresheet 20:1-8, E source, to name one, occasionally appear more than once or with slight differences.

Whereas in the Yawhist source, G-d is portrayed as anthropomorphic, a personal G-d that walks, speaks and interacts with humans, as he appears to Moshe in Shemot (Exodus) 3:14-15, and introduces Himself, “This is my proper name, but its pronunciation is to be concealed.” In the J source, He also, often, displays emotions such as love and anger.

In the Elohist source, G-d is transcendent and reveals Himself indirectly through dreams and messengers. It emphasizes fear of G-d and focuses on moral and prophetic themes.

The story of the binding of Isaac (Akedat Yitzchak) in Bresheet 22, one of the themes in this week's Parashah, “Vayera,” offers a striking example of the complexity of this composition. It is one of the most discussed chapters in terms of source criticism which led scholars to suggest that the text may combine E and J strands.

The chapter tells of G-d testing Avraham by commanding him to sacrifice Isaac. It also shares with us Avraham’s last minute rescue of his son when an angel intervenes.

Within this one chapter, the Divine name shifts from Elohim (G-d) to YHWH (The Lord) and the tone of the narrative changes from severe testing to merciful intervention. These features suggest that the account may combine two traditions, one emphasizing obedience and fear of G-d (E), the other, J highlights divine mercy and covenant faithfulness.

Throughout this Chapter, two divine names appear. In verses 1-10, Elohim (G-d) tests Avraham. Avraham Obeys, builds an altar and binds Isaac. Verses 1-14 shift to the J source where YHWH stops Avraham, a ram is substituted and the place is named “YHWH Yireh.” In verses 15-18, the J source of J redactor, offers a second Divine message, the Covenant is reaffirmed and the promise that Avraham’s descendants will be blessed is delivered. Verse 19 which concludes with a remark that Avraham returns to Beersheva is neutral.

Other, more traditional Jewish sages such as Rash”i, Nachmandis, Ibn Ezra and of course, my favourite Rabbi, Lord Jonathan Sacks, have addressed the account of the binding of Isaac and, as always, I highly recommend that the readers take the time to read them. I was  fortunate enough to personally discuss this story with Sacks. Here is his approach and interpretation of  this rather interesting and meaningful chapter.

https://rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/vayera/binding-of-isaac-new/

Shabbat Shalom