TFTW Archive 2021 Dec

On  Punishment and Forgiveness

10 Dec 2021

Dear Members and Friends,

In her book The Human Condition, Hannah Arendt wrote that punishment is not an opposite, but an alternative to forgiveness: 

"The alternative to forgiveness, but by no means its opposite, is punishment, and both have in common that they attempt to put an end to something that without interference could go on endlessly. It is therefore quite significant, a structural element in the realm of human affairs, that people are unable to forgive what they cannot punish and that they are unable to punish what has turned out to be unforgivable." 

All actions, Arendt argues, are always unpredictable and irreversible. We cannot know what will happen as a result of our actions, nor can we undo them. These two uncomfortable facts about action might stop us from doing anything, but thankfully we have the ability to act with uncertainty. Uncertainty is a necessary condition for forgiveness, a compassionate alternative to punishment. Without forgiveness in particular, we would be forever "confined to one single deed from which we could never recover; we would remain the victims of its consequences forever, not unlike the sorcerer's apprentice who lacked the magic formula to break the spell." We do not have a magic formula to undo our acts, but we have forgiveness and repentance as a means to achieve reconciliation. 

Arendt’s argument is based on the fact that people do not know all of the consequences of their deeds. What if a person knew that one’s action was bad? Torah portion Vayigash presents us with such a case. Last week’s portion sets a dramatic context and a moral dilemma for Joseph’s brothers. There is a famine in the Land of Israel, and Jacob sends all his sons, except Benjamin, to Egypt to buy food. By then, Joseph has become the second-most powerful person in Egypt after the pharaoh. The brothers do not recognize Joseph when they meet him, and Joseph tests them by accusing them of being spies. Joseph demands the brothers bring Benjamin to Egypt to prove they are not spies. When Benjamin arrives, Joseph puts a goblet in Benjamin’s bag and accuses him of stealing it. In this week’s Torah portion, Joseph’s brothers have a choice – to risk their lives and protect Benjamin or to leave him behind, like they did to Joseph when they sold him into slavery.  

This week’s portion begins with a long monologue by Judah. In the past, it was Judah who stopped the brothers from killing Joseph. Judah and his brothers knew that Joseph would suffer, but they sold him into slavery anyway. Now, when faced with danger to another brother, Judah speaks out and goes even further to protect Benjamin. He offers to take Benjamin’s place as a slave—'therefore please let your servant remain as a slave to my lord instead of the boy’ (Gen.44:33). The speech he delivers (Gen. 44:18–34) is sixteen verses long - the longest monologue in the Torah. Judah has demonstrated a true sense of regret and repentance. According to our tradition, this act made him the greatest of Jacob’s children and the one whose name all of us bear until now – Yehudim, Judeans, Jews. 

People can forgive others even in the case of intentional harm. However, it requires a true sense of repentance. The process of repentance, as laid out by Maimonides, includes three stages: confession, regret, and a vow not to repeat the misdeed. The true penitent, Maimonides says, is the one who finds himself with the opportunity to commit the same sin again yet declines to do so. 

I hope that the leaders of this country and all of us are brave enough to admit past mistakes and make sure that they are not repeated. I hope that people can be wise enough to accept that people’s actions are always unpredictable and irreversible, and therefore, there should be a chance for all to repent and to be forgiven. 

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Igor




Shabbat Va-y'chi

17 Dec 2021

Dear Members and Friends,

Jacob’s health is fading.  Joseph, the son he thought had been savaged by a wild animal and was dead, visits him with his two young sons.  The old man rallies and sits up in his bed.  He recalls his encounters with El Shaddai – God Almighty – in the land of Canaan and the blessings bestowed on him, blessings of children and land.  And like another grandparent in Tanakh, Naomi in the Book of Ruth, he claims his grandsons, Ephraim and Manasseh as his own: ‘Now, then, your two sons born to you in the land of Egypt before my arrival in Egypt – they are mine; Ephraim and Manasseh will be to me like Reuben and Simeon’ (Genesis 48:5).

Why does he place these boys in his own genealogy, rather than that of Joseph?  The Women’s Commentary links this action with his remembrance of Rachel whom he mentions in the following verse: ‘And I – as I was coming from Paddan, Rachel died in the land of Canaan, on the road, only a stretch of ground before reaching Ephrat…’ (vs. 7).

‘This is a strong statement of family continuity – from Jacob to Joseph to Joseph’s sons, a male genealogy inspired by a woman.  In later biblical tradition Rachel is the mother of the northern tribes, symbolized by the “Joseph” tribes’ (The Women’s Commentary, p. 284).  

But there is another reason as well.  As Joseph brings his sons to Jacob to be blessed, Jacob places his right hand on the head of the younger boy, Ephraim, and his left hand on Manasseh, the older boy.  ‘No, that’s not right, father,’ says Joseph, ‘Manasseh is the oldest boy, he should receive the blessing for the older son.’

But his father refuses to uncross his hands and replies, ‘I know, my son, I know!’  He is repeating the pattern of the generations from Abraham onwards – Isaac before Ishmael, Jacob before Esau, Joseph before his brothers, Rachel before her older sister Leah.

What is it that Jacob knows?  Does he know that in time to come, the tribe of Ephraim, the younger of the brothers will become the largest and most influential of the northern kingdom?  Or is there some deeper, more spiritual knowledge – an intuition about how things will work out?

Jacob is the most fully explored character of Genesis – grasping, ambitious, deceitful, passionate and loving, yet often without clear judgement.  But he is also the individual whose encounters with God are the most detailed – the dream of the stairway to heaven, wrestling with a divine being, his own conversations with God that are personal and direct.  He is deeply conscious of the God of his father and grandfather, but also of his own relationship with God.

It is from this profound faith in a God who has been steadfastly with him throughout his life, that he pours his own blessings on to his son and grandchildren.

I hope that as we enter another period of uncertainty and restrictions in our own lives, we can live by our faith in God – whether the God of our ancestors, or the God whom we have encountered ourselves in our own lives, and express our gratitude for the blessings with which each of us are blessed of family, friends and community, and of love, companionship and affection.

Shabbat Shalom,

Alexandra Wright