Shimshon’s method of wreaking havoc on the Pelishtim is quite unorthodox. He becomes enamored with a Pelishti woman; over the objections of his parents (who do not see such a strange choice as part of the divine plan), he insists upon marrying her. One day Shimshon is attacked by a lion which he tears in half with his bare hands. Later he passes by the carcass of the lion only to find that some bees have settled inside it and it is now flowing with sweet honey, which he tastes himself and then brings home to share with his family. He tells no one of his encounter with the lion nor of his discovery of the unusual source of honey.
At the wedding feast, he challenges thirty of the groomsmen to answer a riddle, promising them thirty changes of clothes and thirty bedsheets if they can solve it. The riddle is “from that which eats comes food, and from the strong comes the sweet”, clearly a reference to the fierce lion that had become a veritable honeycomb. None of the Pelishtim could solve the riddle, and they pressured Shimshon’s new wife to ply him for the answer, threatening the lives of her family should she refuse.
On the seventh and last day of the festivities, Shimshon finally reveals to her the secret, which she smuggles to her fellow Pelishtim, allowing them to “win” the contest. Shimshon correctly accuses them of having wrested the solution from his wife illegally; however, honoring his word, he slays thirty Pelishtim, confiscates their clothing and bedsheets and delivers them to the “winners” as promised.
From this unconventional vignette, we develop the sense that Shimshon’s approach to confronting the Pelishtim is to remain within the bounds of “justifiable revenge” or “proportionate response”. He always maintains a veneer of fairness and judiciousness when he strikes, and he never strikes unless he is reacting to some provocation. Shimshon always provides his rationale and melodramatically expresses his indignation before making his moves so that it is clear that he has the right to do what he is doing.
In this way, Shimshon never openly “declares war” on the Pelishtim as a group, nor does he possess the authority to do so. He merely operates within the framework of what is considered in their society to be fair, appropriate and acceptable. By milking the loopholes of their dubious moral system and honor code to the extent possible, he inflicts maximum damage upon the enemies of Israel. His focus is not on the infrastructure, armies or government of the Pelishtim; rather, his target is the community of Pelishtim that he seeks to terrorize and harass so that their chokehold on the Jewish people is thereby loosened.
This chapter is the first of four that present the story of the famous Shimshon. The Jews have reverted to their idolatrous ways and the Pelishtim oppress them mercilessly for forty years. Manoah and his wife, members of the tribe of Dan, have not yet been blessed with children. Manoah’s wife is visited by an angel of Hashem who informs her that she is going to bear a child who is destined to save the Jewish people from their Pelishti oppressors. Because the baby in her womb will be consecrated to the service of Hashem, during her pregnancy she must abstain from wine as well as impure food; once born, his hair must never be cut as long as he lives.
Manoah’s wife tells him the news and he is skeptical; he prays to Hashem to send the messenger again so he can verify the story. Hashem obliges and the angelic figure appears once more to Manoah’s wife, who runs to bring her husband to meet him. The angel reiterates his message to Manoah, who offers to prepare him some food. The offer is rejected, as is Manoah’s request to learn the name of the mysterious figure. Instead, Manoah is told to present the bread and meat as a sacrifice to Hashem; when the fire miraculously rises heavenward, the mysterious visitor disappears.
At first, Manoah fears that he and his wife will die after having beheld a divine being’s countenance. His wife reassures him that Hashem would gain nothing from assigning them such an important task and accepting their offering only to kill them before they had the opportunity to fulfill the mission they had been given. The chapter concludes telling us that Shimshon is born, Hashem blesses him, and inspires him to take action on behalf his people.
There are a couple of very unusual elements to this story. Most striking is the fact that the Jews show no interest or inclination to repentance; for the first time, a savior or judge is dispatched to them without their requesting help from Hashem. Shimshon is also the first figure in the book of Shofetim whose birth and mission is foretold to his parents in advance – he is groomed as a leader from birth. And without any clear explanation or reason, Shimshon is expected to abstain from cutting his hair.
It seems that these odd aspects of the narrative of Shimshon all point to a single, unifying theme – the Jewish people as a whole are not reachable at this time, and Shimshon must separate himself from the collective from the beginning in order to protect and defend them. The nation doesn’t deserve any salvation per se and is not quite “saved” during the period of Shimshon; in fact, they never rally around him or follow him. He acts alone and operates to the best of his ability as a “vigilante” who does the best he can to foil the designs of those who wish to harm the Jewish people.
Shimshon’s being “separate” is what allows him to merit divine assistance at a time when the nation is unworthy of that benefit. It signifies the fact that his arrival on the scene is not as a member of the Jewish people, a leader of the Jewish people or even the answer to any prayer of the Jewish people (not even of his parents!) – he is a messenger of Hashem, standing apart from the Jewish and non-Jewish culture around him, a loner whose sole focus is to minimize the damage inflicted by the Pelishtim upon the Jews to the extent he can.
Shimshon’s career is the ultimate example of salvation wrought only “for the sake of Hashem’s name” – not the function of any merit of the Jewish people but purely for the purpose of allowing the nation to survive so that at some future time it can find its way once again and achieve the glory for which it was originally chosen. The Jews of that period were not deserving of Hashem’s help but Hashem could not abandon His promise to preserve and protect them for the sake of generations to come who would return to embrace that path of Torah as intended.
The tribe of Ephraim complains to Yiftah that he neglected to summon them to join him in battle against Ammon. Yiftah turns the blame around on them, accusing the Ephramites of failing to come to his aid to save the Jewish people in their time of need. Yiftah explains that this lack of support on their part was his basis for not including them amongst his troops. These aggressive comments exacerbate tensions between the tribes of Ephraim and Menashe (from which Yiftah hails) and the situation escalates into a full-blown civil war.
The men of Gilad controlled the river-crossings along the Jordan and would not permit members of Ephraim to cross. Anyone who wished to pass through would have to demonstrate that he was not of the tribe of Ephraim. People suspected of lying were subjected to a special test – Ephramites could not pronounce the “sh” sound and would therefore say “shibboleth” as “sibboleth”. Those who failed the exam, unwittingly revealing their Ephramite heritage, would be killed on the spot; forty-two thousand members of the tribe perished.
Yiftah led the nation for six years. After him arose three “minor” judges who are only described by the sizes of their families and estates – Ivtzan of Bet Lehem, Elon HaZevuloni and Avdon Ben Hillel the Pirathoni. We are not provided with any details about their deeds, regimes or the specific challenges they faced during their respective tenures.
There is an obvious comparison to be made between Gideon and Yiftah. Both were assailed by the tribe of Ephraim for having excluded them from a military operation. Gideon assuaged their concerns calmly and diplomatically, settling the issue without further incident. Yiftah, by contrast, fans the flames of discord by arguing with the tribe of Ephraim and claiming that they are the ones at fault.
It is tempting to infer from this that Gideon was a more skilled and savvy politician than Yiftah, who exhibits hot-headedness and impulsiveness in his dealings with other tribes. However, this would be a hasty conclusion to reach. After all, Yiftah attempted to neutralize the initial conflict between Israel and Ammon with sophisticated diplomacy before opting for war. What happened to Yiftah’s political acumen in the meantime? Why didn’t he utilize it in his exchange with the tribe of Ephraim?
I would like to suggest the following explanation for Yiftah’s conduct. His dream was to become the leader of the nation of Israel – for all intents and purposes, to become the king. He imagined that as a result of winning this crucial battle with Ammon, he would move on to establish a monarchy in his own name. However, the incident with his daughter rendered all of those hopes null and void. Whether she was actually killed or merely kept celibate is irrelevant – either way, she was no longer able to serve as Yiftah’s heir or to provide him with a grandson who could do so. Thus, after her “demise” (however it is interpreted), Yiftah’s hopes are dashed.
Political acumen is a powerful tool in the hands of an ambitious leader with aspirations to greatness. But someone who is hopeless and has nothing to lose has no use for such niceties. Once Yiftah saw that he had no future as the founder of a dynasty in Israel, he threw caution to the wind, preferring to keep himself busy with civil war and endless conflict over simply waiting for his time to expire and his career to reach its inevitable but premature conclusion.
Yiftah was the illegitimate son of a man named Gilad and was banished from his father’s home by his father’s legitimate children who did not want to share the inheritance of their father’s estate with him. Yiftah leaves home and establishes himself as the ancient equivalent of a successful mob boss.
Ammon threatens to attack the Jewish people and recapture from them the territory they occupy on the Eastern side of the Jordan River. Faced with this crisis, the Elders of Gilad approach Yiftah to put his organizational and management skills to work and lead them in battle. Yiftah is hesitant to accept the job, but agrees to do so on the condition that, if he is successful, he will be permanently appointed leader over all of Israel. A solemn agreement to these terms is made in the presence of Hashem at Mitzpah.
Before engaging in battle, Yiftah attempts to resolve the problem through diplomacy. He questions the motive of Ammon in laying siege to Israel, reminding them of the history of the disputed territory. The Jews had never conquered any Ammonite territory and were, in fact, forbidden to do so. However, Sihon, King of the Emori, had captured some land that originally belonged to Ammon.
When Sihon attacked the Jewish people in the times of Moshe Rabbenu, the Jews overpowered his forces on the battlefield and annexed that territory. While it was true that it had once belonged to Emorites, it was not directly taken from them by Israel. The Jews had never committed any wrongdoing to Ammon and did not deserve to be treated harshly or for war to be declared on them.
The King of Ammon is not impressed with these diplomatic overtures and proceeds to attack anyway. Before leaving for battle, Yiftah makes the fateful oath to Hashem that, if he returns in peace, the first thing to exit his home will be offered as a sacrifice. Yiftah successfully routs Ammon and joyfully heads home, only to be greeted by his only daughter, who is now “condemned”, as a result of the vow, to become an offering to the Almighty!
Yiftah’s daughter insists that her father fulfill his promise but asks that she be allowed to go to the mountains with her friends and “cry over her virginity for two months.” After this grace period, he fulfills his vow; however, it became an annual tradition for Jewish women to mourn for the daughter of Yiftah four days per year.
It is interesting to consider how the social status of the judges of Israel continues to decline; from Gideon, a reformed idolater, to Avimelekh, his illegitimate offspring, to Yiftah, who is the son of a prostitute (not even a concubine) and is a gang leader who was rejected by his family because of the circumstances of his birth. This certainly reflects the general spiritual decline of the Jewish people. Hashem, so to speak, “begrudgingly” provides the nation with the salvation they seek, and by sending them a “dishonorable” leader, He conveys the message that He continues to harbor reservations about their worthiness of providential assistance.
The oath of Yiftah is also a fascinating subject that is widely debated among the commentators. Some take it literally and understand that Yiftah offered his daughter as a sacrifice to God. It is difficult to accept this view, since such a ritual would contradict every tenet of Judaism; moreover, the text would be expected to detail the horror of such an act more explicitly if it had indeed taken place.
More appealing is the view that “giving her to God” in this context meant that, to honor her father’s vow, she had to commit to a lifetime of celibacy. This would explain her decision to mourn over her virginity. She would never be able to marry or have children and in this sense sacrificed herself to the Almighty.
In the next chapter, we will further explore the implications of this fateful choice for Yiftah’s political future. For now, it suffices to note what an unusual relationship Yiftah has with religion. On one hand, he invokes the name of Hashem quite a bit, and seems to be sincere, even going so far as to honor his outrageous vow. On the other hand, his conception of religion seems to be distorted.
Yiftah sees no contradiction between his excessive ambition, seedy past or inclination to human sacrifice (of one kind or another) and authentic Judaism. His Judaism seems to be somewhat tainted or at least heavily influenced by idolatrous religious ideas. This suggests a further decline in the level of Torah knowledge even among the leadership of Israel, and does not bode well for the population as a whole.
Sefer Shofetim Chapter 10
This chapter describes for us a couple of “minor” judges about whom we are not told too much. Tolah ben Puah of the tribe of Yissakhar led the Jewish people for twenty-three years and Yair HaGiladi did so for twenty two years. The latter was best known for the thirty sons (each of whom had his own donkey upon which to ride) and the thirty cities that belonged to him.
Neither of these shofetim/judges distinguished themselves through any specific manifestation of spiritual or political greatness that was substantial enough to record in the Tanakh. It is interesting that the Navi sees fit to mention the material wealth and large family of Yair HaGiladi; the fact that this is what we know about him suggests that there may not have been much more to say.
The Jewish people finally hit rock bottom. Previously, even when they served other gods, they demonstrated some (albeit lukewarm) devotion to their own God. However, as of this chapter, not only have they embraced the worship of all forms of idolatry indigenous to the land of Israel, but they have completely abandoned the worship of Hashem. This leads to the harshest and most intense persecutions yet, with the Pelishtim and the people of Ammon dominating the Jews on both sides of the Jordan River for a full eighteen years.
Finally, the Jewish people cry out to Hashem for salvation. Rather than respond immediately to their call, Hashem’s message is to further castigate them for their lack of dedication and their fickleness. He refuses to once again assist the Jews, only to be forgotten as soon as He saves them from their troubles.
The Jewish people again plead with Hashem for help, removing all of the false gods from their midst and committing themselves fully to the service of the God of Israel alone. Hashem no longer denies their request but does not make the resolution of their plight an obvious one. The chapter ends with the Jewish people gathered at Mitzpah and puzzling over whom to appoint as a Shofet to lead them toward some resolution of the crisis.
Avimelekh, the “illegitimate” son of Gideon, convinces his family in Shekhem to choose him as leader of Israel rather than accept leadership by all seventy of the children. They agree, and Avimelekh proceeds to hire a band of evildoers who assist him in massacring all of the sons of Gideon except for a single survivor, Yotam, who escapes. Avimelekh has himself anointed as king in Shekhem.
Yotam stands atop Mount Gerizim and delivers a message to the people couched in a parable. When the trees sought a king for the forest, they went from tree to tree offering the position and everyone declined. The olive tree, fig tree and grape vine all have something beneficial to offer the world and have no interest in lording over others.
The thornbush, however, accepts the title with the threat that if his leadership is not taken seriously, fire will burst forth and devour the entire forest. So too, Yotam says, none of the judges or prophets who led Israel in the past sought to become king, even though they contributed so much to its welfare. Avimelekh, someone who has done nothing for his people, has arranged for himself to be coronated. If this is an unjust or unwise arrangement, then it will certainly lead to the destruction of the nation that has selected him.
Avimelekh’s leadership is not well received and after only a few years, rebellion is brewing. Many signs of resistance to his authority are already evident amongst the citizens of his hometown, Shekhem. A man by the name of Gaal ben Eved (who was not Jewish) capitalizes on the dissatisfaction with Avimelekh and escalates the situation into a full-blown civil war, the “rebel base” now being Shekhem. Avimelekh puts down the resistance with great force, repeatedly battling the opposition until they submit. When the upper class citizens (termed the Baalei Migdal Shekhem) take refuge in a bunker, he and his men burn it down, killing one thousand men and women.
Avimelekh proceeds to Tevetz and captures it; this time, the citizens hide in a fortified tower to escape his forces. When Avimelekh approaches the structure to set it aflame, a woman drops a piece of grinding stone on his head, crushing his skull. He asks his armor-bearer to put him out of his misery so that he won’t suffer the dishonor of having been killed by a woman. The young boy complies, stabbing him, and the unjustly founded regime of Avimelekh comes to a bitter end, precisely as foretold by his brother, Yotam.
This chapter is long and rich in interesting detail. One noteworthy aspect of the story is the prediction of Yotam that Avimelekh’s regime will self-destruct. We can interpret this less as a prophetic pronouncement and more as an astute and realistic political analysis. Someone who is contributing meaningfully to a community doesn’t need a title to prove his or her importance; goodness will be recognized in and of itself.
By contrast, someone who seeks a powerful title for its own sake is attempting to feed his ego for selfish reasons. Such an egotistically driven person is dangerous and destructive. Not only will he fail as a shepherd of his flock, he will ultimately alienate his own constituents and set himself against those who once supported him.
As one instance of this, we see that Avimelekh, the “home grown” politician from Shekhem, relocates to another neighborhood when he makes it big, and this distance from his own community seems to exacerbate the emotional and ideological distance that develops between them. The flames of passion that propelled him to seek power in the first place will fuel the aggression and terror he employs to hold onto that power. In the end, his government will implode.
Another noteworthy aspect of the narrative is the significance of the geographical locations mentioned therein. Avimelekh’s home base is Shekhem, which has symbolic importance as the first place in which Avraham settled in Canaan, the place Yosef went to meet his brothers when he was sold, the place Yehoshua and Yosef were buried and the place in which Yehoshua contracted the final covenant between the Jewish people and Hashem before his death. The fact that Avimelekh attempts to establish the first Kingdom of Israel in Shekhem reflects his understanding of the significance of that location in Jewish history – specifically in the lives of the Patriarchs – and his desire to position himself as a link in the chain of tradition, a patriarch of sorts.
Interestingly, Yotam ascends Mount Gerizim to deliver his message. Mount Gerizim (together with Mt. Eval that stands opposite it) is the place where the Jewish people fulfilled the commandment to “reaffirm” their covenant with Hashem by building an altar, pronouncing blessings and curses and reading from the Torah. Symbolically, this was a reminder that the relationship between the nation of Israel and Hashem must ultimately be rooted in the truths of the Torah and adherence to its commandments, and that no project, however ambitious, can succeed if it runs counter to the principles they teach us. Yotam draws the attention of the people back to the real basis of all “power” in Judaism as it was shown to us by all previous Shofetim going back to Moshe Rabbenu – namely, knowledge and observance of Torah.
The men of Ephraim complain to Gideon that they were not invited to join him in the battle against Midian – they were only included at the end when Orev and Ze’ev had to be seized. Gideon wisely and diplomatically responds that the men of Ephraim were far better warriors than he and were “too good” to be deployed for such a rudimentary mission. Gideon explains that he intentionally saved their outstanding skills for the most challenging part of the campaign, arresting and executing the princes when they escaped. The Ephramites were satisfied with this response.
Gideon and his men were still in hot pursuit of two other Midianite princes, Zevah and Tzalmuna, who remained fugitives. The troops reach the point of exhaustion and Gideon stops at Sukkot to request provisions from the community to feed his ailing soldiers. The leaders of Sukkot refuse to help, pointing out that fact that Gideon has not yet captured Zevah and Tzalmuna itself shows that he has not done anything to deserve their loyalty or support thus far.
Gideon rebukes them and says that when he has successfully killed the princes he seeks, he will return to Sukkot and punish the leaders for their offense. Gideon then leads his men to Penuel and make another request for provisions; they are once again rebuffed by the locals for the same reason. Gideon likewise warns them that once he completes his mission he will return and visit retribution upon the people of Penuel for having acted this way.
When Gideon does eventually capture Zevah and Tzalmuna, he travels back to Sukkot and obtains a list of the elders of the city, whom he whips with thorns and thistles. He then goes to Penuel where he broke the community’s tower and killed many of its inhabitants.
The chapter then records a somewhat cryptic dialogue between Gideon and his captives, Zevah and Tzalmuna. Gideon asks them to identify the men they killed on Mount Tavor; they reply that their victims looked just like Gideon, “with the appearance of the sons of the king”. Gideon informs Zevah and Tzalmuna that the men they killed were actually his brethren, and had they spared the lives of his relatives, he wouldn’t be executing them now. Gideon instructs his son to kill the two princes, but the young lad is too hesitant to carry out the task. Zevah and Tzalmuna request to be killed by Gideon himself, and he obliges.
Upon his return, the Jews entreat Gideon to become their king. He refuses, explaining that Hashem is their only King. Gideon takes up a collection of earrings, jewelry and other spoils of war and fashions from them an Ephod, some sort of a beautiful garment. This is then displayed in his city, Ophra, and later becomes an object of worship or superstitious belief for the people of Israel.
The chapter then describes the many wives and children that Gideon had. He even had a concubine who bore him a son, Avimelekh. Although for the rest of Gideon’s life the Jewish people remained secure and stable, after his death they reverted to idolatry and began worshiping Baal Berit, one of the Canaanite gods. Just as they cast aside Hashem, they cast aside any remnant of loyalty or love for the house of Gideon, as we will see in the next chapter.
There are a few points in this chapter worth highlighting. One is the theme of kingship, which we know is central to the Book of Judges. Gideon seems to have an ambivalent attitude toward the possibility of becoming the first king of Israel. Publicly, he denies any interest in such a position and certainly doesn’t establish any monarchy. Yet he also takes it upon himself to punish the communities who commit treason against him, thereby acting like a king. He implies that he would have been willing to spare the Midianite princes if only they had not harmed his own family, thus assigning a special significance to his “royal” blood and not demurring when Zevah and Tzalmuna make reference to his regal status.
Gideon instructs his son to execute the prisoners (before finally doing so himself), something we would expect of a king who is training his protégé in the art of war. He places the special commemorative Ephod in his own city, underscoring the key role that his family is meant to play in Israel. He takes many wives and a concubine which is reminiscent of kingly behavior, and even names his son “Avimelekh” – “my father is king!”
Given that we already observed a sense of self-importance at play in Gideon in the last chapter, this doesn’t come as much of a surprise to us. We might say that Gideon is interested in the benefits and perks of kingship, the pleasures, glory and honor, but without the responsibilities the official position would entail.
It is interesting to note that the two communities confronted by Gideon – Sukkot and Penuel – are both related to the pivotal meeting between Esav and Yaaqov when the latter returned from his lengthy sojourn with Lavan. Yaaqov’s experience wrestling the angel the night before the meeting occurred at Penuel; after the meeting, he settled in Sukkot.
This reveals a connection between Gideon and another Biblical character, Yaaqov who, when he came back from Aram Naharayim, had to prove he was entitled and qualified to lead the emerging Jewish nation in Israel after having been “out of the picture” for so long. So too, Gideon’s legitimacy as a leader is being challenged and his credentials being “proven” in this story. The association is further solidified by the mention of Shekhem, the third location that is linked with that period in Yaaqov’s life.
Finally, there is no doubt that the collection of jewelry taken up by Gideon is meant to call to mind the collection taken up by Aharon when he constructs the Golden Calf. Even the language used in both stories is similar. Gideon was fashioning a kind of idol, a symbolic item placed in his home town that was intended to remind people of the salvation he had provided to them and that would promote a sort of hero-worship of himself and his family.
Gideon’s commemorative Ephod served the purpose of sublimating the national desire to appoint him king, translating reverence and obedience into more subtle forms of admiration and recognition that are nowadays the purview of celebrities rather than politicians. Not inclined to accept any official title of leadership, Gideon preferred to decline the offer but allowed and even encouraged the people to relate to him on a psychological and social level as their monarch. This gave him all of the benefits and few if any of the drawbacks of kingship.
The Golden Calf, too, was created in the absence of Moshe Rabbenu (their king) to reassure the Jewish people of the presence of Hashem and of the promise of stable leadership in their moment of crisis and insecurity. The decision to fashion a physical symbol to accomplish this – both in the case of Gideon’s Ephod and the Golden Calf – turned out to be problematic and even disastrous decisions.
Thirty-two thousand troops rallied around Gideon for the battle against Midian. Hashem conveys to Gideon that this situation is not acceptable; such a large army might give Israel the impression that their salvation is the result of their numbers and strength, not Divine intervention. Gideon instructs anyone hesitant about fighting to return home, but he still has ten thousand soldiers under his command. Finally, Hashem tells Gideon to lead the troops to water; any soldier who gets down on his knees to drink will be sent home and any soldier who laps up the water with his hand without lowering himself to his knees will remain. At the conclusion of the selection process, Gideon is left with three hundred soldiers.
Hashem commands Gideon to mobilize his forces against Midian and assures him of victory. However, Hashem also offers Gideon one more opportunity to witness a “sign” that will bolster his courage. Gideon and his servant sneak over to the enemy camp and overhear a Midianite soldier recounting a terrible nightmare he had dreamt. In the dream, an enormous barley cake rolled through the camp and overturned his tent, flattening it. His friend tells him that the dream symbolizes Gideon and his men, who are going to triumph over the Midianite army.
With a refreshed sense of determination and confidence, Gideon plans his attack. He divided his three hundred men into groups of one hundred men each, and gave every soldier a shofar, a pitcher and a torch. The strategy would be to hide the lit torches inside the pitchers and to stealthily surround the camp in the middle of the night. When Gideon blows his shofar, everyone else is to follow suit and do the same, shouting “for Hashem and for Gideon”. The soldiers are then supposed to smash the pitchers, revealing the brightly burning torches, and to lay siege to the Midianites.
Apparently, the logic of Gideon was based upon the principle that only a small fraction of a given army is normally expected to blow shofarot or hold torches. The sudden appearance of 300 torch-holding shofar-blowers in the dead of night would give the Midianites the impression that they were being surrounded by many thousands of troops and would overwhelm them and cause them to panic.
This is indeed what occurred, with members of the camp of Midian fleeing and even turning against one another amidst the hysteria. The Jews defeated their enemies decisively but several princes of Midian escaped with their lives. Gideon sends word to the elders of Ephraim to intercept two of these princes, Orev and Ze’ev, and not to permit them to become fugitives of the law. The tribe of Ephraim successfully apprehends and executes Orev and Ze’ev, and when we reach the end of the chapter, the story is ALMOST over.
Several details of the story demand an explanation. First, what was the reason why Hashem wanted Gideon to use such a small army to attack Midian? We don’t find such a concept elsewhere in Tanakh. In fact, one of the criticisms of Yehoshua was that he relied on a very modest band of troops to defeat Ha-Ai, and he lost! Second, what is the reason why Gideon is provided with so many signs to reassure him of Hashem’s continued commitment to support him in battle? Why is he so insecure?
I would like to suggest that these aspects of the story highlight a personality defect of Gideon. The fact that he feels so deeply insecure about winning the battle actually indicates that he is relying on HIMSELF too much and fears that he is inadequate to the task. His protestations and worries reveal that he sees himself as critical to the victory and therefore doubts his chances of success because he questions his own capabilities and talents. What seems like modesty or humility may point to quite the opposite – an assumption that it is Gideon who is responsible for making this happen, not Hashem.
We see a similar phenomenon in the case of Moshe Rabbenu who protested that his inability to speak effectively meant that he wouldn’t be able to liberate the Jews from Egyptian bondage. After much back and forth, Hashem relieves Moshe of the responsibility of addressing Pharaoh directly, delegating it instead to Aharon. This was because Hashem knew that Moshe’s fear of failure on account of poor speech indicated that he believed that his own rhetorical ability was the determining factor in whether the Jews would be redeemed or not. If he succeeded, he might take the credit and attribute the achievement to his own skilled oratory! In order to make clear that Moshe was not “the savior”, Hashem gave the duty of speaking to Moshe’s older brother, Aharon.
In the case of Gideon, the decrease in number of troops and the various signs along the way to the mission, all meant to underscore that Hashem is the true orchestrator of victory. We will see the further evolution of this characteristic of Gideon’s personality later on in the next chapter; in the meantime, it is worth noting that in formulating the battle cry “for Hashem and for Gideon”, Gideon assigns to himself a very prominent role in the battle that seems like exactly the sort of thing that Hashem is discouraging here.
Another interesting question is why drinking on one’s knees disqualifies one from fighting in Gideon’s army. The traditional commentaries assume that one who would go down onto his knees to drink must have been habituated to the prostrations that were typical of Baal worship at the time. Anyone involved in this military conflict had to be – like Gideon was – totally divorced from any vestige of idolatry. The beginning of the chapter refers to Gideon first and foremost as Yerubaal – the iconoclast who rejected idol worship and is therefore worthy of reestablishing the independence of the Nation of Hashem. The men under his command were expected to meet the same religious standard.
This chapter contains the “song” or poem that Devorah and Baraq composed following the triumph over Yavin, King of Hatzor. Prophetic poetry is designed to be recited or chanted and places events into perspective in the context of some “bigger picture”. Usually, when we encounter Biblical poetry in the midst of stories, it is an indication that the narrative represents a major development or breakthrough of some kind in the unfolding of the Divine plan.
For obvious reasons, attempting to “summarize” a poem would eviscerate it and would not do justice to its beauty, nuance or power. It needs to be read and experienced to be appreciated. However, it behooves us to at least identify some of the key themes Devorah and Baraq speak about in their song.
A key element of Shirat Devorah is its depiction of how severe the persecutions were under the regime of Yavin. Normal everyday activities like traveling on open roads and drawing water from public wells was made difficult or impossible for the Jews. They would be attacked, have arrows shot at them, and otherwise be terrorized for simply going about their business. They were “demilitarized” by Yavin, to the point that the army under Baraq’s command didn’t even have spears or shields with which to engage in battle when the hour arrived. This underscores how dramatic the salvation was; even more, it highlights how miraculous the battle was from the standpoint of the Jewish people (and perhaps allows us to see why Baraq was so nervous about it.)
Another motif of the song is the emphasis on “hitnadvut”, voluntary involvement. Because there was no central political authority in Israel with the means to compel citizens to follow any program or course of action, participation in the rebellion was totally voluntary on their part. Some of the tribes, like Yissakhar, Zevulun, Binyamin, Menashe, Ephraim and Naftali, willingly and enthusiastically committed themselves to the effort.
Those who lived on the other side of the Yarden, however – Reuven, Gad and half of Menashe – as well as Dan and Asher were hesitant to take any risks on behalf of their people and therefore remained neutral until the conflict was settled. These tribes, either due to the location of their territory or the nature of their occupations, were more economically independent than the others and seemingly had little to gain and much to lose by getting involved.
The confederacy of tribes, like our far flung Jewish communities today, will only survive and thrive if we are concerned with the welfare of all Jews, even when their crises don’t impact us directly. Nobody can or will compel us to act; we must internalize a sense of responsibility for one another based on the transcendent values that unite us and not based upon practical calculations alone.
Shirat Devorah praises those who stood up of their own accord to support their nation and casts some aspersions on those who were resistant to doing so. The song contrasts the behavior of these tribes with that of many of the Kings of Canaan who, without any financial incentive, joined the battles against Israel; they volunteered for what they believed in, even if it was wrong! Why did some tribes not do the same for the sake of their own brethren?
The manifestation of the Divine presence in the history of Israel is another element of the song. Shirat Devorah makes references back to the Revelation at Sinai as well as to the miraculous assistance that attended the triumph against Yavin and Sisera, which many commentaries infer was facilitated by some kind of natural disaster that rendered their chariots immobile. Ultimately, Hashem is the King, and human despots, no matter how intimidating, are subject to His will and His will alone.
Finally, Shirat Devorah revisits the “feminine” or “motherly” motif of the story, describing the roles of Devorah (“a mother in Israel”) and Yael (“of the women in the tent she shall be blessed”, women in the tent meaning matriarchs, mothers) as well as the reaction of the mother of Siserah, another maternal character who had not been mentioned before but is now inserted into the narrative.
The mother of Sisera is in denial about the outcome of the battle and imagines her son raping and pillaging in Israel (what a comforting thought!!!???); of course, these are all illusions and as she comes to terms with the reality that he himself has been vanquished, she sobs. The song concludes with the prayer that just as the wicked designs of the enemies of Israel evaporated in this instance so should they evaporate in the future…Hashem has the power to make that happen as long as we are worthy of His providential care.
After the death of Ehud ben Gera, the Jewish people again sink to the depths of idolatry and assimilation. As a result, they find themselves subservient to and persecuted by Yavin, King of Hatzor and his general Sisera. The oppression suffered by the Jews at the hands of Yavin is particularly intense and extends for twenty years. Realizing that Yavin’s power is backed by highly intimidating and heavily armed military forces and that his regime cannot be resisted by human means, the Jewish people cry out to Hashem, Who sends them a distinguished leader – Devorah – to guide them.
First, we witness a spiritual reawakening and return to Torah, as the nation of Israel embrace Devorah as a Judge and listen carefully to her instructions. Then Hashem commands Devorah to direct Baraq ben Avinoam to mobilize the Jewish military in a rebellion against Yavin. Baraq is hesitant and refuses to go unless Devorah is willing to accompany him to battle. Although she warns him that he will not achieve glory in this conflict because a woman will be credited with the victory, she agrees to join the military forces as a representative of Hashem Who is the true source of success in battle.
The forces of Yavin, led by Sisera, are defeated soundly by the soldiers of Israel, despite the fact that the latter were neither well-armed nor well-prepared. Sisera abandons his chariot and runs on foot to the estate of a prominent ally of Yavin, Hever HaQeni. Ironically, Hever HaQeni was a descendant of the father-in-law of Moshe Rabbenu and had historically maintained close ties with the Jews; Sisera relied upon the assumption that the alliance of King Yavin with Hever was genuine and assumed he would be granted refuge at his home despite this. As we know, this turned out to be a faulty assumption; once the tides had turned against Yavin, Hever and Yael immediately sided with their natural allies, the Jewish people.
Yael, the wife of Hever HaQeni, receives him warmly and reassures him that she will keep his visit a secret. She provides him with a blanket to rest and some milk to quench his thirst. As soon as he dozes off, she takes a tent-spike and drives it through his skull, killing him. Not long after, Baraq arrives in pursuit of Sisera and is informed of what transpired. This marks a decisive turning point in the struggle and eventuates in the Jewish people regaining its political autonomy in the Land of Israel.
This narrative is rich in detail and drama and much commentary could be written about it. For the sake of brevity, I would like to highlight just two noteworthy aspects of the story.
First, it is remarkable that the undisputed leader of the Jewish people is a woman, Devorah. Moreover, another woman, Yael, plays a critical role in resolving the military conflict (typically a manly enterprise) when she assassinates Sisera.
On the other hand, the male characters in the story are rather weak. Baraq is afraid to go out to battle without Devorah, a spiritual mother-figure, present. Moreover, in his moment of weakness and humiliation, Sisera runs to another “mother-figure”, Yael, who provides him with a place to rest and a glass of milk, emblematic of her nurturing role. Two maternal personalities are contrasted here with two “mama’s boys”.
Second, this is the first time we see the roles of religious and political leader bifurcated. Devorah is the prophetess, the teacher, the religious visionary; Baraq, although he believes in Hashem and in the message of His representative, is essentially a military leader whose task is to implement the instructions of Devorah.
Moshe Rabbenu, Yehoshua, Otniel ben Qenaz and Ehud ben Gera all embodied both spiritual and political greatness – they combined and integrated the religious and the secular, the holy and the mundane, and provided an all-encompassing, holistic form of leadership to the Jewish people. During their career, the blend of Torah life and political-social life in Israel was smooth and seamless.
By contrast, the era of Baraq and Devorah is one of significant disintegration and fragmentation – it is a period of time in which there is no ONE LEADER fully capable of guiding the nation at every level and for every purpose. This loss of unification of the transcendent and the practical is indicative of increased disconnection between the Jewish people and the ideals and principles of Torah, and is a harbinger of even further decline that will be documented in future chapters of Sefer Shofetim.
Shofetim Chapter 3
This chapter opens with a list of the groups of indigenous Canaanites who were not driven out of the land by the Jewish people. Interestingly, here these populations are characterized as having been left there by Hashem so as to test the Jews, and “so that the generations of the Children of Israel will know – to teach them the art of war, which before they had not known…” Another reason given for their continued presence in the land is to test the Jewish people “if they will listen to the commandments of Hashem that he commanded their fathers through Moshe.”
The Jews began intermarrying with their non-Jewish neighbors and eventually started worshiping idolatrous gods – the Baalim and Asherot, which were the most popular deities in the region during that period. As predicted by the “cycle of Shofetim” described in the previous chapter, this led to the emergence and dominance of Kushan Rishatayim, King of Aram Naharayim, over Israel. He subjugated them for eight years, until they “cried out to Hashem”, signifying a return to Torah and mitzvot; as a result, Otniel Ben Qenaz was inspired by Hashem to save them from oppression. He mobilized the Jewish military and defeated Kushan Rishatayim, thereby restoring Jewish independence. The situation was stable for forty years, until the death of Otniel ben Qenaz.
Following the death of their leader, Israel sank even more deeply into idolatry and found itself once again dominated by a foreign power – Eglon, King of Moav. After eighteen years of suffering, the Jews turned to Hashem for salvation and He provided them with another Shofet, Ehud ben Gera. After bringing Eglon a tribute from the Jewish people, Ehud returned to the palace and requested a private audience with the King. Eglon granted his wish and ordered his officers to leave the chamber immediately.
Upon being told that Ehud had a divine message to share with him, Eglon rose from his throne, and Ehud quickly thrust a double-edged spear into his belly (Ehud was left handed, and kept his sword on the right side of his body – a place that the security guards had apparently neglected to search when they allowed him entry!) Because Eglon was so corpulent, the entire sword, including the handle, was sucked into his belly, and his guts spilled everywhere. Ehud departed from the chamber and closed the door behind him, making his escape.
Meanwhile, the guards did not check on Eglon for some time, assuming that perhaps he was using the bathroom inside and could not be disturbed…When they finally investigated and found him dead, it was already too late to seize the perpetrator who was long gone. The ensuing battle culminated in political freedom, secure borders and independence for the Jews that would last another eighty years.
The chapter concludes with a brief vignette about Shamgar ben Anat, a Shofet about whom we are not told much. All we know is that he managed to slaughter six hundred Pelishtim single-handedly with little more than a cattle prod.
One question worth exploring in this chapter is the multiple messages we are given regarding who is responsible for the Canaanites remaining in the land. Previous chapters have indicated that this was the fault of the Jews, or even of Yehoshua, for not having removed them forcibly as they were commanded. Our chapter suggests that Hashem planned for them to stay, either in order to “teach the art of war” to the Jews or to test their obedience to the Torah. Which one of these explanations is correct?
Rashi, Radaq and others explain that the “teaching of war” here was actually a PUNISHMENT for the Jewish people. Prior battles had been one with divine assistance alone, no military training necessary. The fact that they now needed to prepare physically and tactically for war was a sign that they had lost the divine support that allowed previous generations to succeed without such preparations. According to this interpretation, earlier chapters that described the laxity of the Jews with respect to the conquest were in fact accurate; here, we read about the consequences of that laxity, the absence of divine providence and the challenges and temptations that interfere with Torah observance were of their own making!
I would like to tentatively suggest another possibility for your consideration. Perhaps the “learning of war” mentioned here is actually a blessing, not a curse. The transition into Israel had to be accompanied by greater self-reliance and a decreased dependence upon supernatural help. True, the Jews were obligated to remove the Canaanites and create a territory free of idolatrous influence that would undermine their adherence to the Torah. However, had Hashem enabled them to drive out all of these enemies in Yehoshua’s time, they may not have been compelled to develop the “inner strength” and military capabilities necessary for functioning as an independent nation-state on the international scene.
Hashem saw that the Jewish people had become reticent and resistant to pursuing the military campaigns in Israel. When Hashem had taken care of them in a miraculous fashion, all was well. But the more they had to rely upon their own sweat and tears to secure their borders, the more they lost their passion for the fight. The “test” was to see if the Jews would continue to wait for miracles in the establishment of their community or would gain the knowledge, wisdom and practicality needed to take care of and defend themselves.
From this perspective, all of the explanations for the continued presence of Canaanites in the land are also true. However, rather than seeing the mastery of the art of war as a punishment for not removing the Canaanites, this training could have actually been the GOAL of that experience. Ideally, they would have developed this competence during the initial military campaigns and conquest under the leadership of Yehoshua; since they did not, they were left with a complicated political landscape that demanded they continue to engage in war without supernatural assistance. Note that, in the language of the verse, there is no clear indication that learning the art of war was a bad thing, which provides some support for this explanation.
I see a precedent for this line of reasoning in the words of HaRambam, who comments that the reason the First Temple was destroyed was that, rather than focusing on mastering the art of war and learning how to defend themselves properly in battle, the Jews of that time turned to astrology, superstition, mysticism and other supernatural means of protection when their existence in the land was threatened. This lack of wisdom and failure to act intelligently led to their exile to Babylonia.
The interpretation of HaRambam teaches us that it is possible to view the possession of military skill as a blessing and not a curse. In fact, it is the ultimate example of divine providence – Hashem’s gracious act of giving us intelligence that we can use to protect and advance our interests every moment of every day, even in the absence of miracles. Only when the Jewish people mature out of a framework of magical thinking and dependence on the supernatural and can live as a wise and understanding nation in the world are they truly worthy of representing Hashem in His chosen land.
This chapter begins with an “angel of Hashem” addressing and rebuking the entire Jewish people. This “angel” or messenger is identified by our Sages as Pinhas the son of Elazar. Pinhas reminded the Jews of Hashem’s great benevolence to them and of their covenantal commitment to Him. Specifically, the Jews had been expected to remove all of the idolatrous populations and altars from the land of Israel and they had failed to do so, instead allowing these pockets of Canaanites to coexist with them in peace. While this may have seemed like a wise, judicious and tolerant choice from the perspective of the war-weary nation, it was a violation of the Torah’s commandments and created a situation that would soon cause substantial spiritual and political damage to Israel. The people cried when they heard this message and brought sacrifices to Hashem, but there was no real follow-through in practice; they maintained the status quo.
The chapter proceeds to chart the decline of the spiritual stature of the Jewish people, beginning with the generation of Yehoshua and the Elders who all remained steadfast in their commitment to Hashem. After the death of Yehoshua and the rest of those who had witnessed Hashem’s miraculous acts of providence firsthand, the Jews began to fall prey to the influence of their gentile neighbors and to assimilate into the surrounding culture, going so far as to worship idolatry. As foretold in the Torah, this caused Hashem to cease providing His support for the economic, political and military endeavors of Israel. The Jews found themselves harassed, persecuted and subjugated by Canaanites who had once paid them tribute and whom they had mistakenly allowed to dwell in their midst when they first conquered the land.
This chapter is a critical one because it defines for us the fundamental “cycle” of the Book of Shofetim. Almost every narrative in the book of Shofetim follows the four-stage pattern that is introduced and detailed here. First, the Jews engage in idolatry, abandon the Torah and assimilate, and this causes them to lose their Divine protection as well as their political independence and security. Second, they return to Torah under the leadership of a Shofet/Judge(whether it is Ehud, Devorah, Gideon, etc.) , who guides them away from paganism and back to the observance of mitzvot. Third, as a result of this turnaround, they once again become worthy of Hashem’s providential care and begin to experience remarkable successes in their military campaigns, reestablishing their sovereignty and enjoying the blessings of prosperity. Finally, following the death of the Shofet who orchestrated the initial spiritual-political revolution, the Jews lose their momentum and find themselves back in the clutches of idolatrous influence, only to see the cycle start over again…Tragically, with each revolution of the cycle, the Jews sink to lower and lower depths of depravity and materialism, as the Book of Shofetim will demonstrate.
One fascinating question we can raise is why the Sages identify the anonymous “angel” at the beginning of the chapter with Pinhas. In order to explain this, we must consider the early career of Pinhas, which began during the lifetime of Moshe Rabbenu. Witnessing a Jewish prince entering his tent with a Midianite woman in a public act of immorality and disregard for the holiness of the nation of Israel, Pinhas stood up and killed the paramours in their moment of passion. He had a profound understanding of the dangers of assimilation and the need to employ strident and even aggressive tactics to prevent the erosion of the purity of the Jewish people. So it is reasonable that he would be the person to stand up and preach vigorously against the laxity of the Jews in ridding their land of the influences and encroachment of idolaters, a compromise he knew would lead to intermarriage, the dilution of Judaism and the disintegration of the Nation of Hashem. Perhaps this is why the Rabbis were convinced that the messenger described at the beginning of this chapter was none other than Pinhas.
The Book of Shofetim, or Judges, picks up after the death of Yehoshua. According to tradition, it was written by the Prophet Shemuel. As per the instructions Yehoshua delivered before his death, the tribes continued their efforts to conquer territory in the land of Israel and to expand and secure their borders. The chapter provides several highlights of these incursions.
For example, the tribe of Yehuda captured Adoni Bezeq, a ruthless dictator who punished the kings whom he vanquished by cutting off their thumbs and big toes and forcing them to scavenge for scraps under his table. The Jews cut off his thumbs and big toes, and he himself acknowledged the Divine justice at play in this punishment before dying in Jerusalem, which the tribe of Judah captured and set aflame.
The chapter also describes the conquest of Devir, Qiryat Sefer and Hevron, which were already discussed in Sefer Yehoshua because of their relevance to the division of territory and are repeated here for the sake of chronology (they actually took place after the death of Yehoshua). Included is the story of Kalev, Otniel ben Qenaz and Akhsa the daughter of Kalev, first recounted in Sefer Yehoshua and recapped here almost word for word. We also read about the tribes of Yosef and their conquest of Bet El.
Several of the tribes – Menashe, Ephraim, Zevulun, Asher, Dan and Naftali – stopped short of removing all of the Canaanites from their midst. Instead, pockets of gentiles were permitted to remain in Israel, provided they paid the requisite taxes to the Jews who ruled over them.
Unfortunately, this failure to cleanse the land of idolatry and to fully establish an exclusively Jewish community in Israel set the stage for future spiritual and political problems. The challenges created by this lack of follow-through will form much of the subject matter of the Book of Shofetim.
It is important to mention one key motif of the Book of Shofetim that differentiates it from the Torah and the Book of Yehoshua – the absence of a “central government”. The tribes act independently or based upon alliances with one another, but not as a collective, national body. Although the entire nation is still united by their observance of Torah, connection to the Mishkan and belief in Hashem, they are no longer politically united by any form of “Federal Government”.
At this point in history, the loose structure of tribal affiliation most resembled the American colonies under the “Articles of Confederation” – at that time, the states functioned as independent, sovereign nations with an agreement to work together but no power over one another. This was, of course, prior to the adoption of the constitution and the establishment of the United States as a single, cohesive entity. With this in mind, we can understand how the Book of Shofetim (written by the Prophet Shemuel who anoints the first King of Israel) is meant to trace the evolution of the community of Israel from this “Articles of Confederation” type arrangement with all of its associated difficulties to the unified monarchy that will finally be constituted in the Book of Shemuel.
The Book of Yehoshua concludes with a final address delivered by Yehoshua to the entire nation, leaders and laypersons alike. This speech was given at Shekhem, and begins with a description of the pre-history of the Jewish people, starting with Abraham’s father Terah who served idols and charting the development of the nation of Israel through Avraham, Yitschaq, Yaaqov and Yaaqov’s descendants. Yehoshua mentions the highlights of the Exodus from Egypt, the dramatic salvation at the Sea of Reeds, the period of wandering through the desert and the miraculous military successes and conquests that Hashem orchestrated for the benefit of the Jews.
Yehoshua first exhorts the nation to serve Hashem in purity and to reject all other gods. However, he then presents them with the option of changing their minds and reverting to the gods of Terah or of their Canaanite neighbors, saying only that “as for myself and my household, we will serve Hashem”. The Jewish people responded to this offer with an unequivocal affirmation of their intent to serve only Hashem, the God Who has been the source of their salvation from the beginning, and to reject any other mode or object of worship.
Yehoshua responds that Hashem is too holy and too demanding; committing to His service is a significant and risky challenge! The Jews rebuff Yehoshua and again insist that they will remain true in their dedication to Hashem. Yehoshua makes an official covenant between the Jewish people and Hashem, and places a large rock under an oak tree beside the sanctuary of Hashem as a memorial to that covenant.
Yehoshua dies at the age of 110 and is buried in his territory in Timnat-Serah; the bones of Yosef are laid to rest in Shekhem, in the portion of land that Yaaqov had purchased centuries earlier in that area. The final verse of the Book of Yehoshua tells us that Elazar son of Aharon, the Kohen Gadol, passed away and was buried as well.
Several questions can be raised regarding this chapter. First of all, what is the need for two speeches – one directed to the leadership and one addressed to everybody? Couldn’t Yehoshua consolidate his remarks in one speech?
Second, we know that at this time the Mishkan was positioned in Shiloh, not Shekhem. Why does Yehoshua deliver this final address in Shekhem rather than Shiloh and why does the text imply that they were standing beside the Sanctuary of Hashem nonetheless?
Third, why did they wait so long to bury Yosef’s bones in Shekhem?
Finally, why does Yehoshua chart Jewish history all the way back to Terah’s time, and why does he raise the possibility that the Jews might want to give up the Torah and revert to the idolatrous traditions of their distant past? Doesn’t the first speech insist that the Jews must keep their commitment to Hashem no matter what?
Several modern commentators and scholars have grappled with these problems and none has provided a fully satisfactory explanation for them. I would like to offer a suggestion of my own that I believe is persuasive and meaningful in its own right even if it doesn’t resolve all the difficulties.
The Book of Yehoshua can rightly be understood as the “postscript” or epilogue to the Torah. It describes the fulfillment of all of Hashem’s promises to the Jewish people and is the conclusion of the historical saga that began with the enslavement in and Exodus from Egypt. In that way, the Book of Yehoshua is the conclusion of a national narrative, the final stage of the founding of Israel as a community in its own land.
The first closing speech of Yehoshua, which presupposes the inviolable nature of the covenant made at Sinai and is directed to the LEADERSHIP alone, is a fitting end to the Book of Yehoshua insofar as it is the history of a nation that was first introduced in the Book of Shemot.
At the same time, however, the dramatic departure from Egypt and conquering of Israel is not only the story of a newly founded polity; it is also the fulfillment of the promises made to the Patriarchs and is the final chapter of THEIR complex and dramatic story. When Avraham arrived in Canaan, he pitched his tent in Shekhem and was there informed that his descendants would inherit the land. When Yaaqov returned from “exile” in the house of Lavan, he immediately purchased a parcel of land in Shekhem, and before departing, he instructed his household to rid themselves of any foreign gods and buried them “under the oak tree in Shekhem”. When Yosef is seized and sold by his brothers into slavery, it is because he went to check on them in Shekhem. When Yaaqov blesses Yosef at the end of his life, he tells Yosef that he has bequeathed to him “Shekhem ahad al ahekha”, meaning one parcel of land more than his brothers – this parcel of land is Shekhem.
Seen from this angle, then, the Book of Yehoshua is not only a sequel to the Book of Devarim, it is the conclusion of the Book of Beresheet – the life stories of the Patriarchs – as well. In that context, Shekhem is clearly a critical location at which all of the dramatic turning points took place, and it is therefore fitting that Yehoshua would deliver his final speech there.
The last speech begins from Terah and focuses on the individuals whose progeny became the Jewish people; it deals with the Abrahamic covenant that we are members of INDIVIDUALLY and as FAMILIES, not nationally as citizens (Berit Milah is an expression of this aspect of our covenant with Hashem). And while the national covenant would naturally be reaffirmed at Shiloh, home of the national sanctuary, the individual/familial covenant between the descendants of Avraham and Hashem would be best renewed at Shekhem, the location that is emblematic of the Patriarchs and their physical and spiritual journeys – even if that meant having to bring the Ark over to the exact place in Shekhem where Yaaqov originally commanded his household to dispose of any idols in their possession.
Unlike the national covenant, maintenance of which is incumbent upon the leaders of the nation as a whole (addressed in the first speech), the Abrahamic covenant is a matter of personal choice, participation and commitment on the part of each individual, hence Yehoshua’s statement in the second speech “as for me and my household, we will serve Hashem!”
Yehoshua is a descendant of Yosef and dies at the age of 110 just like Yosef himself did. Their burials are juxtaposed, with the burial of Yehoshua symbolizing the end of the era of the Exodus and the burial of Yosef in Shekhem representing the end of the saga of Beresheet – keep in mind that the final verse of the Book of Beresheet describes Yosef being placed in a coffin above ground in Egypt; he was waiting for his return to Israel and proper Jewish burial for centuries!
We need not assume that the Jews actually delayed the burial of Yosef’s bones all this time, although it is possible that Yehoshua did this for the thematic effect. What is important is that CONCEPTUALLY the link between the burial of these two key figures interconnects and ties up all of the loose ends in the Torah narratives of the Patriarchs of Beresheet and of the Jewish nation of Shemot-Devarim, making the Book of Yehoshua the proper integration and resolution of the plot lines of both of these grand and rich narratives. Beresheet precedes Shemot-Devarim and here the conclusion of Shemot-Devarim precedes the conclusion of Beresheet – on a literary level, this A-B-B-A structure indicates the ultimate intertwining and interconnecting of the two stories into one complete, unified and indivisible narrative.
This chapter records one of two “closing speeches” that conclude the Book of Yehoshua, delivered once stability and security had been achieved by the Jews in their settlement of the land of Israel. For this speech, Yehoshua gathered together the leaders of Israel, including judges, elders and officers. He reminded them of the support Hashem had provided them during the process of conquest and the fact that He had fulfilled all of His promises and assurances to the Jewish people with respect to their acquisition and division of the land.
Yehoshua reassured the Jews that his own death would not have any impact on the relationship between Hashem and His people moving forward. On the contrary, based on their own experience of His providential involvement in their lives, they knew that Hashem could be trusted to assist them in capturing and annexing the remaining swaths of territory that, at the time of the speech, were still under Canaanite dominion.
However, Yehoshua warned the leadership of the nation to be careful to diligently study and observe the Torah of Moshe Rabbenu, loving and worshiping Hashem, and not to allow the Jews to pursue intermarriage with or imitation of their gentile neighbors. If they do fail in their commitment to Torah and mitzvoth, Yehoshua warns them that they should expect Hashem to be equally reliable in His promise to withdraw His support for their military and political efforts and to exile the Jews from the holy land He had granted them.
This chapter focuses upon the tribes of Gad, Reuven and half of Menashe, and is the “epilogue” of their story. In exchange for being permitted to dwell in the Transjordan in the territory captured from Sihon and Og, the tribes of Reuven and Gad had promised Moshe Rabbenu that they would join the remaining tribes in fighting the battles of conquest and would not return to their homes until the settlement of the land was completed. They fulfilled their commitment and were given an acknowledgment and inspiring send-off from Yehoshua as they departed to resume life with their families on the eastern side of the Jordan River.
Shortly after this, however, the Jews in mainland Israel make an alarming discovery: since their return, the tribes of Reuven, Gad and half of Menashe have constructed a large altar beside the Jordan River, an exact facsimile of the sacrificial altar of the Mishkan! This was understandably interpreted as a sign of rebellion against Hashem and an affront to the national unity of Israel that presupposed a single Sanctuary and Altar for all.
A delegation led by Pinhas and representatives of each of the tribes is dispatched to confront the leadership of the Transjordan Jewish community regarding this disturbing development. They come prepared for civil war if necessary. The elders of the two and a half tribes explain that they never, G-d forbid, intended to use the altar they had constructed for any sacrificial worship, nor did they mean for their action to be construed as one of separatism or rebellion.
On the contrary, they were genuinely concerned that their children, when visiting the national sanctuary in mainland Israel, might be rebuffed and rejected by their brethren as if they were non-Jews. The fact that they live in a geographically distinct area could cause the majority of the Jewish people, as well as the two and a half tribes themselves, to lose their sense of being one nation serving One God.
The minority population in the Transjordan could be perceived as “outsiders” by those in Israel proper, and this discrimination, so to speak, would in turn shape the identity of the children of Reuven, Gad and half of Menashe. The symbolic altar, a precise copy of the one in the Mishkan, would remind their descendants that they are, in fact Jews, and that is why they possess an altar that is never used for any sacrificial service but merely evokes the memory of the national sanctuary on the western side of the Jordan. This plausible and sincere explanation is accepted by the delegation and no further action is taken against the two and a half tribes.
This narrative takes us back to the original discussion between the tribes of Reuven and Gad and Moshe Rabbenu. The tribes declared their intention to build pens for their animals and cities for their children in the Transjordan, where their families would remain and to which they would return after fighting alongside their brethren in Israel. Moshe Rabbenu, in agreeing to their proposition, reverses the order, instructing them instead to construct cities for their children and pens for their animals. The Rabbis comment that the tribes of Reuven and Gad cared more about their animals than their children! How did they feel justified in registering such a sweeping indictment of the tribes based upon a nuance in word order alone?
This story in the Book of Yehoshua sheds light on the answer. Moshe Rabbenu foresaw what the two tribes could not or did not – that their children’s connection to the Torah and the Jewish people would be jeopardized by the decision to remain on the eastern side of the Jordan. Their choice was motivated by financial concerns but neglected to take the spiritual welfare of future generations into account. It was only after the two and a half tribes returned to the Transjordan that the religious implications of their distance from mainland Israel dawned upon them, and they took action to rectify or, at the very least, ameliorate the problem by constructing the symbolic altar. Truth be told, the tribes in the Transjordan developed a much weaker Jewish identity over time – they would be the quickest to assimilate into non-Jewish culture and, centuries later, would be the first Jewish population to be sent into exile.
This chapter describes how, once the twelve tribes are settled in their respective territories, the leaders of the households of the Tribe of Levi approach Yehoshua, Elazar the High Priest and the Elders of Israel to request the cities that the Torah promised them.
Like the tribe of Shimon, the tribe of Levi is destined to be scattered throughout Israel. However, unlike Shimon, the tribe of Levi transformed its passion into something positive and constructive – a passion for Hashem and His Torah. Therefore, rather than merely being denied their own contiguous parcel of land, they are “strategically located” throughout the tribes, with each tribe (including those in the Transjordan) contributing cities and their outskirts/surrounding areas for the Levites to settle in and cultivate.
This meant that there would be local “religious authorities” and teachers stationed throughout the Jewish commonwealth who would have a strong connection to the Mishkan/Bet Hamiqdash and embody and proclaim its principles but who would reside among the people. This way, every tribe, no matter its physical distance from the national sanctuary (be it the Mishkan or, eventually, the Bet Hamiqdash) and the infrequency of its visits there, will maintain a constant link to the mission of Torah study, holiness and justice represented by the Sanctuary through its engagement with the Levites and their teachings.
It is also worthy of mention that the cities of refuge were Levite cities: the Levites were given forty eight cities in total (thirteen cities for the Kohanim close to Jerusalem, ten cities for the rest of the family of Qehat, thirteen cities for Gershon, and twelve for Merari), all of which could serve as safe havens but only six of which were the official “cities of refuge” required by the Torah and established by Yehoshua.
The chapter concludes by once again highlighting the fact that Hashem had delivered the entire land of Israel into the hands of the Jewish people, exactly as he had promised their ancestors. No one had been able to stand up against them, threaten or defeat them. Whatever doubts may have lingered in the minds of the Jews regarding Hashem’s fulfillment of His promises – perhaps the lengthy sojourn in the wilderness and its attendant problems had caused some to lose hope – were now completely laid to rest.
This chapter begins with a phrase we have not seen before in the Book of Yehoshua “וידבר ה אל יהושע לאמר” – “and Hashem spoke to Yehoshua, saying…” While Hashem has spoken with Yehoshua on many occasions, here the language of the Torah itself is used, reminding us of the familiar and oft-repeated opener “and Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying…” The reason for this seems to be that we are about to be told of the designation of the Cities of Refuge, which would serve as safe havens for individuals who commit murder accidentally.
Moshe Rabbenu himself wanted to participate in this mitzvah to the extent he could, so he established the first three cities on the eastern side of the Jordan River after the conquest of the land of Sihon and Og. However, technically speaking his act was not legally effective until all six were selected and consecrated, which is precisely what is described in our chapter. Once again, we find Yehoshua completing a task of Moshe Rabbenu; in this case, he is literally finishing a mitzvah begun by his mentor. The use of the Torah’s phraseology, generally reserved for commandments to Moshe, highlights this concept.
Such offenders must flee to these cities before their trials and, if found guilty, return there until the presiding Kohen Gadol (High Priest) dies. The detailed regulations of the treatment of the accidental killer are recorded in the Torah in Parashat Masei and again in Parashat Vaetchanan . What is noteworthy is that – in the Torah and in the Book of Yehoshua – the designation of these cities is always presented as a critical part of the settlement of the land.
Setting up these cities is not merely a practical measure taken to protect the rights of the inadvertent murderer or to provide an opportunity for rehabilitation. Rather, guarding the sanctity of life is of the essence of Jewish settlement. The cities accomplish this in two ways: By insisting that the murderer be exiled despite the fact that his action was unintentional, the Torah emphasizes the gravity with which it treats the loss of life and the care that must be taken to preserve it. At the same time, by allowing the killer refuge from revenge-inspired attacks at the hands of his victim’s family, the Torah demonstrates that his life is similarly precious.
Thinking back to the story of Cain and Abel in Beresheet, we recall that the first murder is also followed by the exiling of Cain. That narrative establishes the precedent that land upon which innocent blood is spilled becomes defiled as a result. A society that tolerates disrespect for the infinite value of human life denies the fact that mankind was created in Hashem’s image and reduces him to a mere animal. This is not a society that can aspire to the levels of holiness and wisdom to which we, the Jewish people, are summoned.
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