Bereshit Rabbah 40, Part Two: “Say That You Are My Sister”

“And I appeared to Avraham, to Yitzchak and to Yaakov as El Shaddai, G-d Almighty, but by My Name Hashem I did not make Myself known to them” — and one asks: what does this mean? For Hashem did speak to the Avot, to Avraham, to Yitzchak and to Yaakov. And Rashi says: va’era — I appeared — to the Avot, to the Fathers, the Patriarchs. But the Patriarchs, as we well know, are listed by name: I appeared to Avraham, to Yitzchak and to Yaakov. The idea, however, is this: to the Patriarchs, yes, I appeared; but to them I made only promises. They in no way enjoyed all that I had reserved for their children — and in spite of everything, they followed Me.

That is truly the model of the father. A father, in relation to his children, becomes the ideal image, the perfect model, when he invests himself totally for them and keeps for himself only the promise of seeing them succeed — succeed in their lives — and that fills the parents with happiness. Well, such are the Avot: those who desired to sacrifice their lives to trace a path for their children and prepare a better future for them. But there is investment, and nothing is given to man for free. We have known this from the beginning, from the moment man was placed in the Garden of Eden: he had to invest himself, to work, with the concern of preserving what had been gained and of being able to pass it on.

It does not happen by itself, because the principle is that the world is built out of tohu, that is, out of total chaos, which the Holy One, blessed be He, set in order little by little up to the sixth day; but the rest He left in the care of man, whom He created in His image to carry on the work — “which G-d created to do” (asher bara Elokim la’asot): the world that G-d created to be perfected by the work of man. And that is why our Sages point out that in Bereshit bara Elokim — “In the beginning G-d created” — the final letters form emet: Bereshit ends in tav, bara in alef, Elokim in mem — emet, truth. Truth lies in the disorder at the moment of the creation of the universe: it is what G-d expects of man.

Asher bara Elokim la’asot: bara — alef; Elokim — final mem; la’asot — tav: these are the letters of emet. So the tikkun, the restoration of the world, the building of the universe, is left to man. And the Avot are those who gave us a derech eretz — literally, “the way of the land”: the way of behavior, of conduct. There is no Torah; there is no talk of Torah at the beginning. The Torah will appear only at the end; in the book of Bereshit there is only derech eretz, and derech eretz is proper to the Avot, proper to the Fathers. The Fathers traced the way for us, and this way is our own. Every civilization, every culture, has its derech eretz.

When we adopt the rules of life of other cultures, we are at odds with our own identity, with our own derech eretz. So, in sum, what we must see through these trials the Fathers traced for us is first of all the way to structure a people by means of derech eretz — without Torah; the Torah will come afterwards — because derech eretz is the kli, the utensil, the instrument or the vessel that is truly capable of receiving a spirit of holiness, ruach hakodesh. And this ruach hakodesh is indeed the Torah. We will have occasion to develop the idea. Now, in the constitution, in the foundation of the Jewish people, there are two notions. The people as such: its reality as a people — its national reality, if you like — and that is why what is promised at the beginning is the land. The land for the children of Israel, because after the Avot there will be only Bnei Yisrael, only the children of Israel; there will be no more Avot.

Ein korin avot ela lishloshah — the title of Fathers is given to three alone: we give the title of Avot only to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, because it is they, in the end, who established the derech eretz. And because they had to establish it, they absolutely had to pass through cultures. The first is Mitzrayim, Egypt — and Egypt is the sum of all cultures, the crucible of all the cultures of the time. That is why we are told of Egypt first. Afterwards there will be the Philistines, there will be Midian, and from all these elements, from all these cultures, there will be a contribution. For let us not forget that these Patriarchs made many disciples. They “made” them — that is, they formed them, they shaped them intellectually and emotionally — and because of this, the great cultures are steeped, deeply steeped, in the heritage of the Patriarchs.

Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov — to speak only of them. And that is why even these four dimensions — achoti, ra’yati, yonati, tamati, “my sister, my companion, my dove, my perfect one” — with which King Shlomo adorns the feminine — they are the adornment of the feminine — are bound to the four expressions of the liberation of the Jewish people from Egypt. Now, as we have said, the liberation of the Jewish people from Egypt also implies the liberation of Egypt — Egypt’s liberation from slavery, which was part of its whole vision of life and culture; it could not do without that slavery in order to advance its own civilization, so to speak. And there are four modes of liberation: vehotzeti — I will tear them away from slavery; vego’alti — I will free them, but I will rehabilitate them.

We must speak of the rehabilitation of man, who has to abandon this state of dependence. I will adopt them. This is a process that takes place in four stages in the building of every home, of every house. We are not developing this for the moment, but we will have occasion to clarify it as well. For now, we should know that the two principal elements, the two axes of the Jewish house, of the Jewish home, are these. On the one hand, the constitution of the people and its national reality — and this belongs to the man. When we speak of Knesset Yisrael, the Assembly of Israel, that is rather its spiritual reality, and its spiritual reality is the task of the feminine to secure. The feminine makes Knesset Yisrael, the Assembly of Israel; and Avraham makes Av Yisrael, the father of Israel. That is the landmark we have set.

We can now understand the midrash on imri na achoti at; I will read it and translate as I go. “Say that you are my sister”: two men were essential, they were truly the backbone, and they regarded themselves as auxiliaries — they became auxiliaries. Who are they? Avram and Barak. Barak, I remind you, was an army general who went into battle alongside the prophetess Devorah — a commander, then, who was to lead the people to victory against the enemy pressing on the borders of the newly conquered Land of Israel. When Devorah summons him, she says to him: “Has not Hashem, the G-d of Israel, commanded: go and draw toward Mount Tavor” — go, muster on Mount Tavor ten thousand soldiers, to go out to war against the enemy. And he answers her: im telchi imi vehalachti.

“If you go with me, I will go.” If you accompany me in this mobilization, I am willing; but if you do not accompany me, I will not march. I will do nothing. Rabbi Yehudah and Rabbi Nechemiah. Rabbi Yehudah said: “If you come with me to Kedesh, I will go with you to the northern border of Kedesh; but if you do not accompany me, I will not march.” That is one interpretation — namely: you must commit yourself to the war as much as I do. The other rabbi said: no, there is no question of Devorah, as a woman, taking up arms against the enemy. Im telchi imi leshirah, elech imach lamilchamah — if you come with me for the song, to inspire me, to bring your share of poetry to this battle we are about to wage, then I will engage in the battle.

But if there is no inspiration, if no real meaning is given to this battle, no, I do not want to undertake it. Then she answers, she warns him; she says to him: know that I will go with you — but it is a pity for you: the honors will not be yours. You will win the war, but it is not you who will earn all the praise of the army. Rabbi Reuven said: this word efes (“however”) is a Greek expression. When it occurs in the Bible, one wonders how a Greek term comes to slip into the Hebrew text. Well — this is simply to tell you that a reading on a second level is needed, and a third level, and a fourth, if we want to understand things. Because these biblical battles that are recounted, and these everyday incidents that make up the book of Bereshit — to keep them at the first reading would indeed be a way of making them childish, of turning them into a comic strip.

That is not what they are. He says to her: do you think that poetry was given to you alone? Well — he became an auxiliary, in second place. The proof is that the text says the shirah — the song, the hymn to this victory — is sung by Devorah, and Barak son of Avinoam is merely her companion, merely her accompanist. So it is too, says the text, with Avram: Avram was the essential one, he was the backbone. It is to him that G-d speaks, and it is he who leads Sarai, his wife. And then he steps aside before her — imri na achoti at — and asks for her protection: “Say that you are my sister, so that it may go well with me because of you.” And he becomes her auxiliary; the proof is: “and he dealt well with Avram for her sake”

— Avram received favors on account of, because of, Sarah. A problem that arises today is precisely that of the Jewish people and of the Assembly of Israel: of the Jewish people and its heritage, its poetry, what makes its distinctiveness, its personality. What Pharaoh has in mind is that by seizing Sarah — just as later he wanted to cast all the male children into the Nile and keep only the girls — he would strip this people of its distinctiveness, its inspiration, its élan, its muse. And then, if it becomes like all the other peoples on the national level, it has no weight; it does not count for much beside the great nations; it is destined to disappear.

[…] Or at any rate it will hold a secondary place on the chessboard of nations — when we are speaking of a people that must be a beacon for all humanity. So who is entrusted with this beacon? The feminine. Sarai. Sarai: imri na achoti at — if you say that you are my sister, that is, that we come from one and the same womb — then of course you have a completely independent reality, and so do I, on the level of the constitution of the people; but one without the other, we cannot exist. And it is with you, by being achoti, by remaining my sister — that is, an option for everyone: this spirituality is an option for everyone.

The reality of the Jewish people as such, from the national point of view, is hard to get the nations to accept, hard to get Egypt to accept. It is a […] reality. On the other hand, the one that makes Sarah achot, a sister — the Assembly of Israel, the one that breathes its reality from within through its values — that is the essential one, and that is, in sum, what Avraham wants to save. Because the spirituality of Israel, even if it is held hostage by the nations and remains attached — attached as an integral part of its matrix reality as a nation, as a people — can never dissolve among the nations. That is why the midrash continues. If you look a little further down, you can see the Hebrew text. The text says that Avram alone arrives in Egypt. And the midrash asks: but Avram did not come to Egypt alone! He had just spoken with Sarah, just told her: we are objects of covetousness for the Egyptians. There is talk of beauty — and we too have spoken of this beauty; we shall see it.

So where was Sarah? VeSarah heichan haytah? Why does the text not mention that Sarah too came with Avraham to Egypt? We are told: he put her in a chest and locked her in. He arrived at customs, and they said to him: you must pay duty on this chest you are carrying. He tells them: no problem at all — how many times have we not paid residence taxes! Yes, but they say to him: what goods are you carrying? We will tax you on the basis of furniture, of belongings. No problem, I will pay. Then they say: no, it is gold you are carrying. I will pay the duty on gold goods. They say: no, perhaps what you are really carrying is precious objects, even precious stones — and he agrees to pay. Then they say: no. Open the chest, and we will see what is inside.

When he opened the chest, all of Egypt was struck by the radiance of her beauty. You see — it is worthy of a comic strip. But this light, this light that came out of the chest — where did it come from? Rabbi Azariah and Rabbi Yonatan answer: ikonin shel Chavah — it was the face, the first face fashioned by G-d at the creation of the feminine, that of Chavah; and Sarah reflected Chavah’s original beauty. Now, we have already spoken of this beauty: is it a point of departure or a point of arrival? Last time we noted that beauty is a fulfillment. Let us not forget that we are dealing here with a beauty ninety years old.

It is not a fresh beauty; it is not the beauty of the beginning, but that of a fulfillment. Consequently, we are speaking of another beauty: a beauty of values kneaded through all of Avraham’s tribulations, his first struggles, his first trials, and so on. And now he finds himself in Egypt — but in Egypt, only outer beauty is noticed, not inner beauty. Whereas with Sarai, as with Chavah, the mother of all living, it was an inner beauty; it was an inner beauty that was at stake. And indeed […]: she grows more and more beautiful; she gains. So they bring her to be sold; they put her up for auction.

One offers to buy her for his dinar, and another offers two hundred. So what do these bids come to, over a woman who so impresses Egypt? It is the moral and spiritual reality of Israel, the moral and spiritual reality of the house of Avraham. It is held by the feminine, not by the masculine. And so the nations are ready to fight over it, to pay for it and to place it in the king’s palace; it will be the emblem of the royal palace. And see how far the midrash goes: ein li ela be’aliyatan; biridatan minayin? — “I know this only of their ascent; of their descent, how do we know?” We are speaking of values that keep rising all the time. But when they decline, what is said?

Yes — in the house of Avraham, one fears that the children will not measure up to what the parents invested. And it will happen; it will happen, for example, in the time of Yirmiyahu. They cast Yirmiyahu down — as his name indicates, for there is a duality in the name Yirmiyahu: there is the one whom G-d places on high, whom He raises up, or the one whom G-d casts off, abandons to his fate. Which of these names does the prophet Yirmiyahu bear best? They say: well, Yirmiyahu was indeed cast into a pit. The prophecy of G-d, in a time of decline and decadence of Jewish society, of loss of its spiritual identity — they threw him away, they wanted no more of him; a wind of secularism had already swept over the Jewish people in that era. But from the pit, from the hole into which they had thrown Yirmiyahu, “they drew him up”: in the end he will be lifted out; he will not be abandoned to his fate.

So far, this concerns only this world. And for the world to come, how do we know? Because it is said, it is taught: “Peoples shall take them and bring them to their place” (Isaiah 14:2). That is, at the moment when the Jewish people can no longer — is no longer able — to take on its destiny, because it will have given up, it will have despaired, it is other peoples — ulkachum amim, other peoples, vehevi’um el mekomam — who will pull it out and resettle it in its place. And this we have known; we knew it with Koresh (Cyrus), for example, at the building of the Second Temple. It is Koresh who decides to free the people, to give it the opportunity to recreate its national identity and its spiritual identity.

So the restitution of Sarah to Avraham will take place because there is a hashgachah, a providence that watches over the history of the people and of all humanity, and that prevents history, as it were, from definitively taking a path with no possibility of return. That, then, is the first teaching. We saw that Avraham is directed toward the Promised Land; he settles there, and immediately afterwards he is condemned to exile by a famine, when he himself does not understand — he would gladly have stayed in the Land of Israel. Many commentators ask whether he did not lack a little bitachon, assurance, faith, in going down to Egypt of his own accord; and they answer that the movement of the Jewish people out of its borders is inevitable.

And it is uncontrolled, involuntary situations that decide it. But let us be clear: it is for the good, I would say. That is how the history of the Jewish people recycles itself, draws on fresh sources, finds new breath as the generations go by. And we have already said that whoever thinks we have exhausted the decoding of the Torah has understood nothing, because every generation has its decodings. […] this derech eretz, this Sefer HaYashar, the “Book of the Upright,” which calls forth this holy spirit, this spirit of holiness. So we are told that what has indeed been valued within the Jewish people is its wisdom, and the fact that the Jewish people regards it, in the same way, as its sister.

And wisdom is not the exclusive lot of the Jewish people; it is the lot of all humanity. Only, there is the one who adopts it, cultivates it, and brings it to the state of ra’yah, companion, to the state of yonah, dove, to the state of te’omah, twin. But there is the one who will leave it in its shell, and it will remain a theory, a philosophy; there will not be that relationship of respect, that kinship with wisdom, of the one who was capable of saying of his wife achoti at, “you are my sister,” as he said of wisdom, of chochmah: achoti at. And with this wisdom it is the same: just as he will not cheapen the reality of his relationship with his sister, he will not cheapen his relationship with chochmah.

On the contrary, they will surround it with respect and love. So this is what the text says — “And Pharaoh gave men orders concerning him” — when the precious stone had come to take its place in Pharaoh’s palace, Pharaoh wants, in effect, to appropriate this spiritual reality of the Jewish people and to compensate Avraham. And Rabbi Pinchas said: the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Avraham: go forth and pave the way before your children. Go, trace the path for your children, because everything written about Avraham is found again concerning his children. Of Avraham it is written: “There was a famine in the land.” And of Israel it is written: “For these two years the famine…” — in the time of Yaakov, when the people of Yaakov is taking shape, a part of it has nevertheless disappeared.

They had almost gone into mourning for Yosef; no one knows any longer what has become of him. Chayah ra’ah achalat’hu — “a wild beast has devoured him.” This wild beast, let us be clear, is Egypt: achalat’hu, it swallowed him up. And now we are obliged to go and fish out the lost brother, the brother gone astray in Egypt […], whose children, born in Egypt, become two tribes within the entity of the Jewish people — paradoxically, those who grew up in Egypt, those who never knew the Land of Israel, those who received from Yosef an education insofar as he was able to give it to them. And there is much to say about that. But let us be clear: with the children of Yosef we buried the notion of the birthright. There is no longer a firstborn. He can be compensated materially, but spiritually there are no more elder sons, no more firstborns. The birthright is a spiritual right, not a physical one, and it does not depend on the natural order in which a being appears.

So of Avraham it is written, and of Israel it is written. […] “And it came to pass, when he drew near” — when Avraham goes down to Egypt, it is to recover something, to give and to take back, to take back, to remake, to reconsider. And so it is with what was said about the presence of the Jewish people in Egypt. Vayeredu avoteinu Mitzraymah — “our fathers went down to Egypt”; vayered Avram — “Avram went down,” excuse me. UFar’oh hikriv — “and Pharaoh drew near”: of Avraham it is written ka’asher hikriv, “when he drew near,” and of Pharaoh, uFar’oh hikriv. Hikriv means to draw near, to bring near. What does “Pharaoh brought near” mean? That Pharaoh had to recognize, at the moment of the crossing of the Red Sea, that there is a Master of history, that this civilization of slavery indeed had to be brought to an end, and the Jewish people allowed to reach its national maturity. That is what he did.

Whereas Avraham feared for himself — that he would lose his life, and that Sarah would be granted life but would live as a hostage; then no one would be able to free her. With the people of Israel, at the time of its gestation, it is said: “Every son that is born, you shall cast into the river.” And of Avraham, what is written? Imri na achoti at — “Say, please, that you are my sister, so that it may go well with me.” And of Israel, what is written? That it went well with them: G-d indeed opened His ways of kindness to the Jewish midwives. The parallel is complete between the stages Avraham passed through in Egypt and those of the children of Israel, who go down to Egypt as a family. Avraham goes down to Egypt as an individual, as a father; the children of Israel, as a family.

The children of Israel relive this slavery in Egypt, this descent into Egypt. And at the end, […] of Avraham it is written that he was laden with silver and gold. Of Avraham it is written that Pharaoh gave orders to honor Avraham and to let him go with great wealth, and even to give him a daughter of his own. Egypt urges the people to leave; they gave it gold and silver. Vayelech lemasa’av — “he went on his journeys”: Avraham began other stages, and that is what Israel does. In other words, it is wrong to believe that the Jewish people’s sojourn in Egypt belongs to past history and is no longer found in the movement of the history of the Jewish people. On the contrary, it is the matrix. The history of the Jewish people in Egypt is the matrix of the history it is called to unfold in other forms, through the fulfillment of its mission among the nations. And the true principal actor in this liberation of the house of Israel and in its evolution is the feminine. That is why our Sages said that it was by the merit of righteous women that our fathers came out of Egypt.

It is they who kept the flame alive, this light […], this original light that was able to flood Egypt through Sarai’s face, which was wholly the reflection of Chavah’s. For it is said that Esther too was beautiful […] — but me’od, “very,” is made of the letters of Adam rearranged. Esther had reached ad, almost me’od; but Sarah was me’od. It was truly the original face of an entity that brought creation to completion, gave a note of poetry to creation, and thereby allowed man to enter into his Shabbat. And that is why we give — why we leave — to the Jewish woman the task of lighting up the home as Shabbat begins.

I will stop here. If you have questions, with pleasure. I am sure there will be questions. — Yes, after you. — No, go ahead, Yves, no problem. — I would first just like to say, Rav Benizri — since I always sing your praises — that if Sarah is truly the image of beauty and spirituality in woman, I have always regarded you as the masculine equivalent of Sarah, for the light you bring to these lectures. — That is not a question, Nathalie. — No, the question is more general, not about this chapter. Can we consider — I do not know in what year the Torah ends, I mean the Five Books of the Torah, at what date in the history of the Jewish people — but could we consider that today there are spiritual masters of the same stature as Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov?

And if so, who are they? Because our world so badly needs spiritual masters. — Every generation has its lights. They are sometimes hidden; we do not notice them. But lo alman Yisrael — “Israel is not widowed” (Jeremiah 51:5). The people of Israel is never in a state of widowhood. Only, what they suffer from is our failure to recognize them. We do not have them, we do not seek them, and we do not discover them. They remain in the shadows. Sometimes they are content simply to make their existence and their teaching known through a single writing, and to give an impetus — a great impetus — to an understanding of the text that answers the events of the time. But for that one needs sensitivity, one needs a quest. If we do not set out on a quest, we will not discover it.

They will remain in the shadows. These are the eclipses of history; these are holes. People speak of the original hole, the black hole — but the black hole exists rather in the unfolding of our history. There are many black holes, unfortunately. But from time to time a light bursts forth from these black holes, as it did at the origin of creation. It is a phenomenon that the Holy One, blessed be He, renews: He creates every day — ma’aseh Bereshit. Every day He renews the work of creation. Consequently, creation is not something that was done once, and that’s that, the world goes on as usual. No, no — that idea is foreign to Jewish thought.

Olam keminhago noheg — the world running its course as nature would have it — that is foreign to our thought. There is always renewal. One must see it, must one not? Just as we think of changing our physical clothes, we should think of changing our spiritual clothes, our ideas. We cannot live by recipes; it is impossible. — But there can be so many false spiritual masters. — Wherever you go, you can search […]. You must seek, and you will find. — Yes. Another question. — A very small question, Rav Benizri: could you remind us — I know you have told us — in what period were the texts of Midrash Rabbah written?

The texts of Midrash Rabbah are texts that date from — 700, is that right? The Talmud was sealed, in a manner of speaking, around 400; the midrash dates from around the sixth, the eighth, the ninth century, up to the twelfth century: the texts of Midrash Rabbah. But this is to show you, is it not, how it is an interpretation — an interpretation of the midrash. There is not only Midrash Rabbah; there is the Zohar, there are many others. Let us say that the first exegesis of the Torah, so to speak, was carried out through these many midrashim, part of which is in the Talmud — at times they were taken out of it and gathered into what is called Midrash Rabbah, which is a mosaic of the midrashim of that time, of interpretation of the text.

— Thank you. — In any case, you see how they extrapolated; they did not really remain attached to the text, to the literal meaning of the text. — Yes. Another question. — Regarding the birthright: you told us that the birthright was lost at the time of Yosef’s children. I think the birthright was lost at the time of the golden calf. Why do you say that the birthright was lost then? — No, that is another matter. That is another matter. Because what did he do? What did Yaakov do? He crossed his hands. And he gave to Ephraim, who was the younger: he put his right hand on Ephraim and his left hand on Menasheh.

And Menasheh did not react. It was Yosef who reacted, and Yaakov said: yada’ti, beni, yada’ti — “I know, my son, I know.” We are going to put an end to this. This problem of the birthright — we are going to put an end to it. You, Yosef, were the firstborn of Rachel, were you not? Reuven was the firstborn of Leah. This problem of the birthright has created nothing but tragedies in families, all through the youth — the history — of humanity. The real meaning of the birthright is spiritual responsibility; and if the firstborn truly wants to be the first heir of this spirituality, let it be granted to him — which is what was done until the sin of the golden calf. But the firstborn showed that they were incapable of confining themselves to this spiritual responsibility toward the families of Israel, and it was at that moment that the kohanim became the heirs of the bechorim, the firstborn.

What do we do at the pidyon habechor, the redemption of the firstborn? There, we took away from him this claim to be the spiritual heir of the family. — Why are there still rules of inheritance, for example, that favor the firstborn? — Sorry? — Why are there still today rules of inheritance that favor the firstborn? — Yes, but that is material. Those inheritance rules are a compensation. Indeed, when a brother comes along, he takes something away — both emotionally and materially. Everything the first child had — he was truly the apple of the family’s eye — he must now share with the others, share with the others; the brother makes him step down and takes away all his luster as the elder. So a material compensation is given to him.

— Another question about Sarah. If the Egyptians were interested only in outer appearance, what were they seeking in Sarah, who was all inner splendor, if that did not interest them? — That is exactly the point. There is wisdom: if you are told that there is wisdom among the nations, believe it; but if you are told that there is Torah among the nations, do not believe it. There is no Torah among the nations. Now, the Torah is practical, it is real; it commits man to action. It cannot be merely a way of life, a conception, a philosophy. What the nations took from Israel has remained with them simply at a […] philosophical level; it in no way leads them to action.

And that is what Pharaoh wanted to take: he wanted, in a sense, to strip the Jewish people of this treasure it possessed, so that it would appear to be part of the other cultures — Judaism as one culture among the others, with no spirit of holiness committing anyone to it. — Thank you very much. — Thank you infinitely. Until next week. — Thank you very much. — So we will see one another next week, with a lecture on Tu BiShvat, and I am convinced that Rav Benizri will be able to make us see Tu BiShvat with new eyes. Thank you very much, and good luck with the rain all the same. — Thank you very much. Goodbye. — Goodbye.