Primogeniture

 

One of the topics of this week’s parashah, “Toledot,” addresses is the rights of the Firstborn. In the Tanach, as was the case in the ancient Levant, those rights referred only to first born males.

“Primogeniture” is the Latin term that describes such practices. It reflects the right, by law or custom, of the firstborn male child to inherit the family estate, in preference to their siblings.

Some of the stories in the book of Bresheet surround the status of the Firstborn. We read about Cain and Abel competing over G-d’s approval of their respective sacrifices. We follow Sarah’s worries over Avraham’s inheritance, doing all that is in her power to ensure that it will go to her son Yitzchak rather than to Yishmael, his eldest son from Hagar. In this week’s Parashah, we encounter the struggle between Yaakov and his older brother, Esav, over the Birthright and the blessings of Yitzchak, their father.

In all three of the above examples, it seems that the Torah rejects the practice of primogeniture, which was prevalent in ancient times in the region, favours the younger sons and elects to endow them with that right. What, one may ask, is the purpose of such a, rather revolutionary, step?

In the first account, the decision was made by G-d. He chose Abel’s sacrifice over that of Cain.

In the case of Isaac and Yishmael, however, that preference of the former is embedded in the legal norms of that era, as reflected in the Hammurabi Code of Law, and which pertain to the inheritance rights of the son of a maid/slave, the status of Yishmael, Hagar’s son. That is this issue which is at the core of Sarah’s concern.

Article 170 of the Code states that if a man’s main wife bore his children as did his maid, the father shall bequeath all he owns to the children from his main wife, during his life. If the father passes away without declaring his rightful inheritors, his assets will be divided between all offspring regardless of who their mother was. Hagar was never the legal wife of Avraham. Sarah was. Hagar was a maid and a servant who bore a son to Avraham when Sarah thought that she was barren. Yishmael, though the eldest, was never the legal heir of Avraham. Sarah was his wife and Yitzchak, the younger son, was the legal heir.

In order to understand the choice of Yaakov over Esav, it is important to add that the term primogeniture, sometimes, also entails succession to power and office and not merely rights to tangible possessions. In other words, the Firstborn right can be onerous, demanding and carry responsibilities - a dutiful task suited for only a few selected ones. In early times, the Firstborn would substitute the father and was honoured accordingly. In ancient Egypt, for instance, Firstborns were revered and worshipped like gods. Hence the significance of the tenth plague, the plague of the Firstborn since according to our sages when G-d avenges upon a nation, He initially avenges upon its gods.

It is indeed true that when Yaakov asserts “I am Esav, your Firstborn,” (Bresheet 27:19) he not only lies, but he also commits fratricide and condemns Esav to oblivion both as a human being and his rights to inheritance as well.

Several Jewish commentators offer various justifications for Yaakov’s lie. Isaac Abrabanel, for instance, suggests that Yaakov lamented to Esav that the latter was never around the house, always roaming in the fields and not fulfilling his duties as the Firstborn while he, Yaakov, had to attend to their sick father, feed him and Esav when the latter returned from his hunting. According to Abrabanel, Yaakov went even further to suggest to Esav that if he were not ready to assume that role, he would gladly take his place and feed him as should the eldest brother address the needs of the younger one. Esav, explains Abrabanel, pondered in his heart and decided that he was better off relinquishing those duties. Yaakov took them upon himself and promptly offered Esav bread and lentil soup, as would the Firstborn do to his younger sibling.

Rabbi Shmuel Ben Meir (Rashba”m) provides a different rationale. According to him, Esav was willingly renouncing his Firstborn right claiming that his hunting activities often put him in harm’s way. Therefore, he reckoned, there was no point in him waiting for his father to die to qualify for that right.

Finally, Rabbi Sacks, who bases his interpretation on Rashi, suggests that as much as Esav tried to deceive Yitzchak, the latter “was not deceived as to the nature of his elder son. He knew what he was and what he was not. He knew he was a man of the field, a hunter, a mercurial in temperament, a man who could easily give way to violence, quickly aroused to anger, but equally quickly, capable of being distracted and forgetting. He also knew,” concludes Rabbi Sacks that Esav “was not the child to continue the Covenant.”

It is, therefore, not by accident that Yitzchak preferred Yaakov over Esav.

This week’s Parashah teaches us that leadership should not necessarily be granted to the Firstborn son but rather to the best one.

Shabbat Shalom

Pidyon HaBen

{Note:  Pidyon HaBen (redemption of the firstborn son) is a Jewish ceremony wherein the father of a firstborn male redeems his son by giving a Cohen (a descendant of Aharon, the High Priest) five silver coins, thirty days after the baby’s birth}. 

The following article was written by Tal Gilad in Hebrew and translated into English by Bat-Zion Susskind-Sacks.

From here to there, I find myself, one day in a Pidyon HaBen ceremony, at some friends’ home. The last time that I attended such an event was at my son’s Pidyon HaBen which too place twenty years ago.

I must admit that I do not get excited by events in which the subject of the event is not asked whether he wishes to be there or not. The same is, more or less,  true for weddings but there, at least one still has the theoretical option to jump out the window and escape to Ben Gurion airport, a privilege which one does not have at the age of one month. Make no mistake, I am all for it, I just pity the baby and his parents surrounded by salivating aunts and uncles who possess a sense of humour older than wine.

Still, a pleasant surprise awaited me as soon as I arrived, when I realized that the ceremony will be conducted by my dear friend, Yechiel Safra (yes, that same one from the programme “It is Language Time”), one of the most amazing people that I was fortunate to meet.

 It was clear that this occasion, was not going to be boring. However, one glance at the audience, raises doubts in me: the scenery is entirely secular, most of whom look younger than the spectacled-bald-enlightened breed that is travelling to attend critiquing an exhibition in Berlin.

The parents themselves look like children, a bit stressed, trying to smile. The father is still not certain about handling the child, gets advice and light reproof from female relatives. Oy, how well I remember this.

The ritual commences and I realize how convenient it is to be a guest and not a frightened parent. You can listen and even understand when the mother is reading certain explanations from her notes. And then she invites Safra. The well experienced fox stands up and while walking starts chanting with his thundering voice, the proper Biblical trope, “And G-d spoke unto Moshe…..” I am always envious of people who do not need a microphone and who were blessed with the voice that I only have when I have a cold. The sudden attack finds the spectacled-bold unprepared and in need of that split second to grasp the cynicism. They tense up and you realize that it suddenly interests them. No, it is more than mere interest. It is something that is reminiscent of methods used to locate spies: someone behind them utters something in their native tongue and checks to see who instinctively turns, before they contemplate their move. No use trying, Judaism is there, in all of them, underneath a crust that is much thinner than we believe.

Safra does not hold the baby and does not raise him upward, as they did to my son twenty years ago, a moment where my blood froze and a decision to become a Buddhist ripened. It turns out that it is not an essential or inseparable part of the ceremony. For a second, I retroactively get upset but in no time return to the present. Here, the parents continue to hold the baby. And those who remember what being a fresh parent knows how comforting it is to all involved.

“Firstborn son, you shall redeem after thirty days,” I did not know the explanation it formed the Hebrew acronym of “Bresheet,” (in the beginning). The origin of the text is, of course, associated with the tenth plague that preceded the Exodus from Egypt, which spared the firstborn sons of Bnei Yisrael. “And each of firstborn sons you shall redeem.” Jews enjoy doubting themselves. There is a cosmopolitan halo about it. The Exodus from Egypt? No proof! We are enlightened, scientific, and hopelessly sober.

Many of the researchers who are, with all due respect, no less scientific and sober than the bald-spectacled above, are fairly certain that the Exodus from Egypt did take place. A blend of shreds evidence, the Egyptian Ipouwer Papyurs which even the enlightened of the enlightened will have to chuckle while reading the text and at least say: “ This, of course, proves nothing, yet it is interesting” and, mainly, the use of that very rare commodity, common sense.

There is no reason for the presence of such a popular story if it has no basis in reality. Nations do not invent story that describe themselves as originating from slaves who had escaped. It is a story that outlines  an ongoing, not always complimentary, story which involves many people and generally sounds credible.

The ceremony continues, a mixture of light and heavy, the course of redeeming the baby is performed according to all rules and regulations. What would you prefer the baby or the shekels? Surprisingly enough, the father elects to have the baby and we reach the stage of Birkat Cohanim.

And then comes the genuine great surprise.

Some of the participants (not only the uncle with the kippah from Nes - Tziona which everyone seems to have) mumble lines from the blessings along with Safra. I know because I learned it from my son. But where in the world does a Tel Aviver who produces a feature and has a cat, know it? And here – unbelievable, or, in fact, why not – there appears a little tear. Not one facial muscle moves, the young man sits with folded hands, no one would have noticed if not for the wipe, as if by happenstance, of the eye and quickly reverts to folding his arms. Someone once told me that there is not one person in Yisrael who is secular.

Safra concludes, explains a few points and leaves us all with a smile. The mother ends with a few Torah words and everyone’s attention is shifted to the plates. All of this in less than a quarter of an hour, a feel-good timeout and unveils in you what you truly are. Secular or observant, Leftist or Right wing, a believer or very lucid. A Jew.

Shabbat Shalom.

"Yisrael, My Firstborn Son."

This week’s Parashah, Bo, is another stirring chapter in the saga of the Exodus from Egypt. It details the last three of the ten plagues that were poured upon the Egyptians.

Of special interest in the tenth plague the smiting of the firstborn son of every Egyptian family. It is, the Torah tells us, the last straw which prompted Pharaoh to let the Yisraelites go.

A bird’s eye view of the host of plagues reveals that the tenth plague was different from its predecessors. Firstly, it is already hinted at before Moshe was to meet Pharaoh when G-d sent this message to him in Shemot 4:23-24 : “Yisrael is my firstborn son, and I told you, Let my son go, so he may worship me.” In other words, the confrontation will reach its pinnacle when it will be Pharaoh’s first-born son against G-d’s first-born son, Am Yisrael.

Secondly, the tenth plague does not bear the usual structure of the previous nine plagues. There was no warning. There is no description of the plague and unlike the others, Pharaoh did not protest or request that it be removed. Instead, Moshe presents him with a fact: “About midnight I will go throughout Egypt. Every firstborn son in Egypt will die….” (Shemot 11:4).

Were the same sequence of the other plagues to follow, we could expect the next part to describe the plague. Instead, the next section Shemot 12:2 starts with the following: “This month is to be for you the first month, the first month of the year.” This segment includes the commandment of the Passover sacrifice as well as the laws associated with this Holy Day and as part of these laws comes the description of the forthcoming tenth plague: “On that same night I will pass through Egypt and strike down every firstborn of both people and animals, and I will bring judgment on all the gods of Egypt.” (Shemot 12:12). What connects the two is the commandment to slaughter the Passover sacrifice and the decree to smear its blood on the doorposts of the Yisraelites so that G-d could pass over the homes of the Yisraelites and spare their firstborn.

A very brief description of the tenth plague is given in two verses (Exodus 12:29-30) “ At midnight the LORD struck down all the firstborn in Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh, who sat on the throne, to the firstborn of the prisoner, who was in the dungeon, and the firstborn of all the livestock as well. Pharaoh and all his officials and all the Egyptians got up during the night, and there was loud wailing in Egypt, for there was not a house without someone dead.” One might ask, why was there a need for the blood on the doorposts? After all, G-d would know which homes belongs to the Yisraelites and which to the Egyptians.
The answer has to do with the unique nature of the tenth plague. While the plague was aimed at hurting the Egyptians, it is also the one that brought about the release of Am Yisrael from the House of Bondage. Surely, G-d could have picked other ways to reach that result. It seems that in this plague did not only subjugate the Egyptians, it was also meant to put the Yisraelites through the test.

The commandment to engage in the Passover sacrifice forced Am Yisrael to employ another Mitzvah, that of Brit Milah or circumcision. Shemot 12:48 forbids uncircumcised males from partaking in the Passover sacrifice: “A foreigner residing among you who wants to celebrate the LORD’s Passover must have all the males in his household circumcised; then he may take part like one born in the land. No uncircumcised male may eat it.”

It seems that the Torah is more interested in stressing the passing over the homes of the Yisraelites and turning the tenth plague into an instructive experience for them than on killing the firstborn of the Egyptians. Hence the little attention the text gives to describing that plague. Rather, its main concern is in ensuring that the Yisraelites understand the Passover laws, internalize them and live the unique role that G-d has assigned to them to be “My firstborn son Yisrael.”

Shabbat Shalom