Parashah Vayetze
Complicated Relationships
Marriages are never easy, especially when a couple struggles with a
difficulty like infertlitiy.
By Rabbi Melissa Crespy
Reprinted with permission of the Jewish Theological Seminary.
I cannot read Parashat Vayetze dispassionately. The struggle
between two sisters for the love of the same man, the back and forth attempt to
win his affections by bearing more and more children, and the visible jealousy
and pain that each one of them experiences leaves me feeling angry every time I
read the story.
Particularly galling is Jacob's reaction to Rachel--the wife
whom he loves deeply--when she cannot become pregnant. She has seen her sister
Leah bear Jacob three sons (presumably within three years), and can no longer
take the pain of being the barren wife. "Give me children, or I shall
die" she says to Jacob (Genesis 30:1). And the Torah records his response:
"Jacob was incensed at Rachel, and said, "Can I take the place of God
("hatahat elohim anokhi"), who has denied you fruit of the
womb?"
Midrash Rabbah (71:7), avoiding any of the apologies later
commentators will make, cuts to the chase when it comments: "Said the Holy
One, Blessed be God, to him [Jacob]: "Is that a way to answer a woman in
distress? By your life, your children will one day stand in supplication before
her son [Joseph], who will answer them, 'Am I a substitute for God (hatahat
elohim ani)'" (Genesis 50:19)?
The midrash is acutely sensitive to Rachel's feelings here,
and to Jacob's cruelty in answering her as he did. Yes, she overstated, but her
comment reflected how terribly pained and unworthy she felt by not being able
to bear children. Jacob just dug the knife in deeper by saying that God had
denied her the ability to produce children. The midrash responds that an insensitive
comment like this one will not go unpunished, and it doesn't. In the not too
distant future, Jacob's other sons are at the mercy of Rachel's son Joseph,
where they hear language very close to the cruel words Jacob had spoken. As a
rabbinic dictum teaches: "Midah k'neged midah" (one unkind
deed will be paid back by another).
But, human beings, as we know, are complex creatures. And of
the numerous stories that point out human complexity in the Bible, the stories
in the book of Genesis are particularly poignant. While the midrash hones in on
Rachel's pain, the medieval commentator Radak (Rabbi David Kimhi) points out
Jacob's frustration. Speaking in Jacob's voice, Radak says: "It's God who
denied you, and not I who denied you. Ask that He give you children, because I
give you what I am able to give you when I sleep with you. What can I do if you
are barren? From God you should request that He open up your womb as He did for
your sister. Please--from Him."
For Radak, Jacob's angry answer is a cry of frustration. He
can't do anything about the situation. It's beyond his control. He's doing what
he can, but he is a limited human being and can't produce the miracles that God
does.
Radak's portrayal of Jacob makes his response somewhat more
palatable. Though it doesn't make Jacob's words kind, it at least gives us a
better idea of what he may have been thinking and feeling about Rachel's cry to
him.
Dr. Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, modern commentator and author
of Genesis: The Beginning of Desire adds another layer to the mix of
emotions felt in this story. She writes: "Jacob is now married to two
women: a storm of emotion--hatred, jealousy--replaces the calm harbor of
fulfillment. And a profound frustration underlies the relationships between
Jacob and his two wives: Leah loves Jacob and names her children as a record of
her changing relation to her husband; Jacob loves Rachel and Rachel's main
passion is for children. Essentially, all the protagonists most want what they
cannot have. Therefore, perhaps Jacob speaks out of the anger of a man whose
love meets with poor response. On one level, he is simply saying that his life
would be amply fed by his relationship with her. Her deprivations are different
from his and must inform her own personal relationship with God" (pp.
209-210).
Life--and especially love--among human beings is never easy.
Though our story is complicated by the fact that two sisters share one husband
(something that the Torah later forbids), the truth is that even in monogamous
relationships, life is often not simple. We want, sometimes demand, our
partners' devoted sympathy to our pains, and when they can't help us, it can be
deeply painful. The Torah is insightful because it lets us know that families
have been struggling with these issues for thousands of years. Perhaps, in some
small way, we can better our family lives by seeing the struggles of our
ancestors and trying to learn from them.
Melissa Crespy is
a rabbinic fellow at JTS. More of Chancellor Schorsch's commentaries can
be found on JTS's Parashat Hashavua page.