Parashat Vayishlah
Silent Deliberations
Pondering Jacob's silence--and his son's rashness--when hearing of Dinah's
rape
By Rabbi Marc Wolf
Reprinted with permission of the Jewish Theological Seminary.
"Too often the strong, silent man is silent only
because he does not know what to say, and is reputed strong only because he
remains silent." This indictment, spoken by Winston Churchill, initially
reminds me of our patriarch Jacob. We read this week one of the most disturbing
stories contained in the Genesis narrative--the abduction of Dinah. As our parashah
tells us, Dinah was the daughter of Leah and Jacob, sister to Shimon and Levi.
When she went out one day to meet the other young women of the land, the local
prince, Shekhem, abducted her. Upon hearing the news of this violation, Jacob
reacted as we never would have supposed a father would--with silence.
Juxtaposed with Jacob's reaction, is the angry response from
Dinah's brothers. After abducting her, Shekhem fell in love with Dinah and
wished to marry her. When Shekhem came to Jacob to plead his case, the parashah
tells us that the brothers answered him, "cunningly, with deceit"
(Genesis 34:13). Speaking for their father, they struck a bargain with Shekhem:
If he convinced every single male in his land to circumcise themselves, then he
could have their captive sister's hand in marriage.
Rabbeinu Bahya, a 13th to 14th century commentator from
Spain, stated in his commentary on Vayishlah, that the brothers had no intention
of letting Dinah marry this man. They planned, instead, to wait until the third
and harshest day of pain after circumcision, when the men of the city would be
weakest, and take their sister back from her captivity. This plan, however,
morphed into a deadly act of vengeance.
When Shimon and Levi went to release Dinah, something went
drastically wrong. The brothers entered the home of Shekhem, and then crumbled
into an emotional fury. They displayed a lapse of faith in God, who bestows
righteousness and compassion, and in a moment of filial loyalty, stepped over a
line that snowballed into wrath, rage and vehemence. They killed each and every
male in the city and then turned their swords against Shekhem and finally his
father.
Rabbeinu Bahya, continuing his commentary on this parashah,
states that Shimon and Levi's rampage was not simply a momentary lapse in
judgment; rather, that their actions were premeditated. They justified their
revenge by holding the entire town's men responsible for the abduction of
Dinah. After all, had they not stood idly by as an injustice was done?
Despite these justifications, we cannot endorse their fit of
rage, their emotional disregard for compassion and humanity. We must define
their actions as a gross injustice, a crime and an embarrassment. Humanity is
our gift from God. Though, sometimes we may forget our humanity and respond
with vengeance, but vengeance is an instinctive emotion, not tied to our God
given gifts.
Our patriarch Jacob responded to his son's horrible actions
by crying out, "You have discomposed me, making me hated by the people
here" (Genesis 34:30). You have messed everything up, he seems to say. You
have messed up everything that we stand for, everything that we preach,
everything that your ancestors have done before you. We followed God's
directions and taught others the meanings of righteousness and compassion; you
have rendered these lessons ineffectual. The Holy words of our tradition, the
intensity of our faith, our belief in a righteous and compassionate God, all
are now vapid and vacuous because of your actions.
Jacob is no longer silent. In fact, his message to his sons
was loud and clear--"ahartem oti!" You confound me! This is
not my family; I do not recognize these actions. How did Shimon and Levi
respond to their father's chastisement? They had no satisfying answer. When
they should have apologized or at the very least remained silent in the face of
their father's rebuke, they attempted to justify an unjustifiable act by asking
simply, "should he treat our sister like a harlot?"
This parashah can be seen as both support for and a
challenge to Churchill's statement. The men of Shekhem who remained silent in
the face of Dinah's abduction follow Churchill's words. Jacob, however, challenges
Churchill's wisdom. Sometimes, a situation demands contemplative silence--a
silence during which one may deliberate and decide on appropriate reaction.
Jacob's sons, however, do not take their cues from their father's silence; they
act with rash judgment, which permanently damages their lives. Perhaps Jacob,
the wiser, elder statesman demonstrated a silence that Churchill might even
have envied.
In a society where instant reaction and instant messaging is
the norm, we could take a few cues from our patriarch, Jacob. Acting without
our God-given gift of intelligent reasoning, we damage our present and our
future. May we take the time to live in the silent moments and then react with
humanity.
Rabbi Marc Wolf is Director of
Community Development at the Jewish Theological Seminary. More
commentaries from the Jewish Theological Seminary can be found on JTS's Parashat
HaShavua page.