The rape of Jacob’s daughter, the war of Israel’s sons

Announcing the Cardozo Academy Writers Guild!

In gratitude for the hostages who have returned home and with our prayers for their complete healing.
Dedicated to the remaining hostages. May God return them all speedily to the bosom of their families.

Since October 7, all of the parshiot have had multiple meanings for our current situation. This week’s parshah, Vayishlach, in particular, is one that I’ve been dreading. It speaks directly to one excruciating element of our national pain from that day, and asks how we should respond to that pain.

In our parshah, Jacob wrestles with an angel and earns the additional name, Israel (lit. he who strives with God). Yet, unlike his grandfather, whose name was permanently changed from Avram to Avraham, both names–Jacob and Israel–continue to be used by the Torah going forward.

Jacob survives and thrives with Lavan and makes peace with Esav, both with God’s blessing, as well as by means of what he learns through life experience. But he is always looking over his shoulder for the ever-present danger from those around him. Jacob is the Galut Jew, getting by with his wits, always the other.

In our parshah, Jacob is still in exile, even though he has returned home. His daughter, Dinah is raped by Schehem, after which Schehem and his father Hamor attempt to appease Jacob. At this point, Jacob’s sons come in from the field,

Note that the plain meaning is that all of Jacob’s sons were involved in a false promise of alliance with Schehem. There is no mention of Jacob warning them not to take action. Additionally, Rashi understands that all the male inhabitants of Schehem are brought into the plot, with the promise of benefiting materially by the rape of Dinah and the assimilation of Jacob’s family. After the circumcision of all the males in the city,

It would appear that Jacob was not even consulted by his sons in all this, and that he was not happy about their actions:

Jacob doesn’t question the correctness of what they did, only the potential consequences. And it is the brothers who have the last word.

God then commands Jacob to move to Bet-El and a few verses later,

On the one hand, it appears that instead of exposing the family to danger from their neighbors, as Jacob feared, the show of force by the brothers protected them. Or was it, seen from Jacob’s perspective, only with God’s intervention?

Jacob does not change his assessment of Shimon and Levi and his blessing to both of them on his deathbed reflects that,

Jacob holds them responsible both for the rampage at Shechem, and for the plot to eliminate Yosef. Jacob, who has not spoken directly of the sale of Yosef till now, places responsibility on Shimon and Levi; as if their prior behavior identified them, made them particularly culpable for what happened to Yosef, even though the brothers acted together.

War—killing others—changes us. How can it not be fraught with emotional and psychological scars? It leaves its mark on us and on our descendants.

Later in the Torah, Zimri, a prince of the tribe of Shimon, publicly desecrates God’s name through relations with a Midianite woman. Both of them, in turn, are killed by Pinchas, from the tribe of Levi. At first glance, Pinchas seems to be upholding the violent legacy of Shimon and Levi. But, in this case, his zealous, decisive response is purely לשם שמיים, according to God’s will.

As a reward for his action, God bestows on Pinchas, בְּרִיתִ֖י שָׁלֽוֹם—My covenant of peace. Additionally, Pinchas and his descendants are brought into the priesthood, the lovers and pursuers of peace.

In our response to what happened on October 7, it might be easier if we could just be Shimon and Levi, the avengers, eliminating with laser precision those responsible. The pain would be no less, but at least there would be some measure of closure. But we are also Jacob, dealing with a cunning enemy, who hides among non-combatants and navigates a world of lies and deception.

And ultimately we are Israelites, not Jacobites. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, z’l, writes in his Covenant & Conversation: Thoughts on the Weekly Parsha:

As Israel, [Jacob] is unafraid to contend with people face-to-face. He no longer needs to outwit them by clever, but ultimately futile stratagems. His children will eventually become the people whose dignity lies in the unbreakable covenant they make with God.

Each morning, we thank God for two things: for not making us a non-Jew, and not making us a slave. A man adds a third brachah, for not making him a woman. A woman adds a third brachah thanking God for making her according to His will. Many commentaries suggest that we add to these three blessings another blessing שעשני ישראל thanking God for making me an Israelite. The Bach on Orach Chaim 46:11 notes the opinion that if one made the single brachah of שעשני ישראל, one should omit the other three brachot.

The prevailing custom is to say the three brachot, but there are those—myself included—who choose to say the single brachah, defining ourselves not negatively, but affirmatively. Much of the siddur was formulated in Galut, for Jews who could only dream of coming home. As an Israeli, whose identity is tied to the Land and its people, what matters most is who I am, not who I am not. How much more so after October 7.