In discussing the Jewish meaning of gratitude, we must at once understand that gratitude, thankfulness, is a good thing. That might sound terribly simple to many of you. However, it is not really plain. It was a great French philosopher, Diderot, who like others of his age was a great cynic, who said that, “Gratitude is a burden, and every burden is made to be shaken off.” There is, of course, something to this. Many people have observed that “do a man a favor and he becomes your greatest enemy.” I am sure that every one of us, at one time or another, felt resentful when required to feel grateful to some individual. You feel that it binds you in a certain way, and no man wants to feel bound and obligated. So that gratitude can very well be a burden, and burdens, according to our French philosopher, were made to be shaken off.The Jew, however, took the opposite point of view. To him gratitude was a wonderful thing, a very human expression, and, in a way, one of the pillars of society. Tov lehodot laHashem says King David, that sweet singer of Israel, “It is good to thank God.” Ki lechah tov lehodot, says the same author of the Psalms, “It is so good to give thanks unto you.” Obviously, the Psalmist had already heard in his age the same cynical rumblings against gratitude that we hear in our own. And he therefore gave concrete expression to the Jewish attitude that gratitude is a wonderful thing. More than that, it is also a duty. And our rabbis maintained that there are times when a man must give thanks. Just look at the Bible. Not only is gratitude to be expressed by man to his God, not only by man to his fellow man, but even to animals. La’kelev tashlichun oto. We are bidden to award meats that have become non-kosher to the dog. And the reason? Because the dogs refrained from barking at our ancestors when they left Egypt. It was quite a thing for dogs who had been trained to guard the slave from escape, to allow over a half a million Jews to leave their cells and…

In Jacob’s death-bed blessings we find that he charged one of his sons, Judah, with the leadership of the future nation of Israel. לא יסור שבט מיהודה, “The scepter shall not depart from Judah,” says Jacob as he places the mantle of royalty on the shoulders of his noble son. But Jacob’s gift of dominion is not unadorned, unlimited, or unreasoned. The leadership of Judah was to be of a very specific type, and it was deserved by Judah for a very special reason.The type of Jewish leader which Jacob foresaw in his son Judah was not an autocrat, imposed from above. He was not a benevolent despot, whose despotism survives his benevolence. He was not a philosopher-king, such as was envisioned by the Greek philosophers, for he rules in a high-handed fashion, according to pre-established prejudices. He serves principles and prejudices, not people; he is resented, unloved, despised. The type of Jewish leader prescribed by Jacob in this week’s portion was not a democrat, in the sense of being elected by an electorate. Frequently, the democratic ruler really represents only a minority; he many times is awarded his high office by the passive and apathetic attitude of the lazy masses. Machine-politics can deceive, and the people can all too often be fooled.Rather, the archetype of Jewish leader which the Bible presents to us this week is what we would today call the “grass-roots” man. He is more efficient than the autocrat, more devoted to his ideals than the philosopher-king, more benevolent than the benevolent despot, and more democratic than the democrat. He is a man who is so loved for his character, so respected for his personality, and so admired and appreciated for his service that he earns the undying gratitude of his fellows. He is their leader by virtue of their gratefulness to him. Jacob prefaced his charge to Judah concerning his mission of leadership with four important words: יהודה, אתה יודוך אחיך – “Judah, your brothers will be grateful to you.”This element of the …

When our father Jacob was on his death-bed, he called over his favorite son, Joseph – just before he blessed all his children – and told him that he was giving him a special award, something the others would not get. Va’ani nassati l’cha shechem echad al achecha, “Son,” he told his royal child who was now effectively the master of Egypt, “son, I’m going to give you an extra portion over your brothers.” What that portion is our Bible does not say. But our Rabbis suggested what that extra legacy was. Rabbi Yehudah maintains that it was levusho shel Adam Ha’rishon, the garment worn by Adam! What a gift to give a king! What an inheritance for a man who controlled the greatest kingdom of antiquity, who had millions under his thumb, who regulated the commerce of the whole nation, who was an absolute potentate who had all that he wanted at his command: a shirt, and an old one at that! It was quite a build-up Jacob gave for what turns out to have been merely a family heirloom. A shirt 23 generations old may have some sentimental value, it may be of archeological value – that you give to other children, or to a museum; but you don’t give that to fabulously wealthy viceroy as a “special” reward.But if that is what Jacob decided to give to Joseph, according to our Sages, there was some very special reason for doing so. Our Rabbis meant to tell us something of what Jacob wanted to teach Joseph, and the Josephs of all ages. There are three descriptions of that levush shel Adam Ha’rishon which indicate three major points that we must take to heart and remember. They are three lessons Jacob wanted to drive home to Joseph – because he was the wealthiest and most powerful of all his children, three correctives to the abuses that come so frequently with the acquisition of prosperity and power and social recognition.The first thing our Rabbis said of this garment was that it, was made of a special kind of leather. The Bible calls it kassnoss or, leather garment. And the Rabbis add th…

Whoever reads this morning’s Sidra carefully will notice that while Jacob, on his death-bed, charges each of his sons individually and analyses their individual characteristics, he also speaks to the entire family and sets forth an analysis of the complex personality of all the Jewish people. What applies to any one tribe in particular also applies, in greater or lesser measure, to the entire people of Israel. If we can speak of the character of the Jew as such, in the same way that social psychologists speak about the social character of different groups, then we notice that the Jewish character is ambivalent – that is, it is often contradictory and is composed of conflicting tendencies. Like Reuben, we are often temperamental and impulsive. Like Simeon and Levi, we are often given to precipitous action and a bit shady. Like Joseph we are often loveable and gracious and like Zebulun we are frequently wrapped up in commerce. Like Judah we have the characteristics of royalty and majesty, and like Naftali we are often subservient and satisfied with secondary roles. It is a complex and complicated personality.3. We mention this as a prologue to an understanding of the words of Jacob to his son Issachar. What he said to him, therefore, is applicable not only to his descendants but to all Jews – to all of us. What Jacob saw in his character we must take as part of our own potential and, in this case, try to live up to it. 4. Jacob compares Issachar to a large-boned ass – patient and stolid but powerful and mighty. Vayar menuchah ki tov v’es ha’aretz ki na’eimah va’yeit shichmo lisbol vayehi le’mass oveid – He saw that rest was good, and the land that it was pleasant – and he bowed his shoulder to bear, and became a servant to tribute.  5. Our Rabbis, keeping in mind that Moses on his death-bed also charged the tribes and singled out Issachar for its study of Torah, interpreted the entire charge of Jacob to Issachar as applying to the same thing – Torah study. He saw tha…

Throughout the life of Jacob, Joseph was the undisputed favorite amongst his sons. And in today’s portion, when we read of Jacob about to close his eyes forever, Joseph still seems to be the favorite recipient of Jacob’s paternal love and affection. With all his sons gathered about him to bid him a final farewell, Jacob has only the most generous sentiments to offer to Joseph. “Joseph is a fruitful vine, a fruitful vine by a fountain.” He offers his beloved son the blessings of the God of his father, the blessing of heaven above and “blessings of the deep that couches beneath.” He tells him that “the blessings of thy father are mighty beyond the blessings of my ancestors unto the utmost bounds of the everlasting hills; they shall be on the head of Joseph, and on the crown of the head of the prince amongst his brethren.” And yet despite all this unquestioned and unquestioning love, the careful student of the Torah notices something strange. And that is, that the greatest prize that Jacob had to offer, the most significant reward that he had to bestow upon one of his children, was given not to Joseph but to another of his sons. The prize of Malkhut, of kingdom or leadership, that of being the chief of the brothers, went to Judah. Why is this? Why, despite all the genuine love that the father felt for Joseph, did he give the gift of royalty to Judah?Allow me to share with you this morning an answer given by one of the distinguished Jewish thinkers of our generation, my own revered teacher, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik. Joseph and Judah are two archetypes, they represent two totally different character types. Joseph is, as our rabbis called him, Yosef ha-Tzaddik – Joseph the pious, the righteous. He is a man who from his earliest childhood had in him ingrained virtue, inherent piety, naturally good habits. His moral and ethical goals and code were evident to him from his earliest infancy. And he had no doubt but that he would follow them.Judah presents quite another pi…

Following the marvelous story of fraternal strife and family reunion – a story of singular dramatic impact which addresses itself to each of us – our Sidra this morning relates to something that almost becomes an anti-climax. After Jacob’s death and his internment in Canaan, when the funeral procession has returned to Egypt from the Holy Land, we read that ויראו אחי יוסף כי מת אביהם ויאמרו לו ישטמנו יוסף, Joseph’s brothers saw that their father had died, and they said, who knows but that now Joseph will hate us and avenge himself upon us for all the evil that we have caused him. The peace and harmony of the House of Israel was threatened all over again. Now, this is a disturbing report. Of lesser people, we expect that brothers live in an armed truce while their father is alive; but when he is dead, they resume their hostilities. We expect of an Esau that he should refrain from murdering his brother Jacob only as long as their father Isaac lived, but that once he is gone, Esau should plan to destroy his antagonist brother. But of people of higher moral caliber, of shivtei yisrael, we expect a continuation of fraternal and brotherly feeling. For as long as a cherished and revered Father is spiritually alive for his children, his very memory serves to keep them together in peace and friendship. It is only when the spiritual presence of Father has died for some or all of them, that fraternal strife breaks out unrestrained. But ought we expect this of the sons of Jacob, founders of the House of Israel?The Rabbis of the Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah) reveal a superb psychological insight not only into Joseph and his brothers, but into the universal dimensions of human relations. They tell us that on the way back from the burial of Jacob in Egypt, they passed the very pit into which the brothers had cast Joseph and from whence began Joseph's long adventure. When they passed that pit, he halach vehitzitz b’oto bor, went over to it, and stared and gazed into it.The pit revisit…

An Orthodox Rabbi has more important things to discuss with his people from his pulpit than the latest fads and fashions in contemporary apikorsut. But when such movements are sponsored by theologians, and are widely discussed in the daily press and in weekly news magazines, it is important to comment upon them and offer whatever guidance may be forthcoming from the sacred sources of the Jewish tradition.A number of Christian theologians, climaxing a development that has been about a quarter of a century in the making in their circles, have put forth their ideas in a manner as shocking as it is honest, and as scandalous as it is forthright. Instead of clothing their atheism in artificial, long-winded, technical terminology, they have accepted the slogan first coined by a German philosopher of the last century: “God is dead.”The words sound too blasphemous to repeat; the lips hurt and the tongue aches when such words are recited. Yet that is just why they make such good copy for the pseudo-sophisticated weeklies, and tempt young professors of theology to break out of the stifling atmosphere of the ivory tower and into a breath-taking sensationalism. For that is just what this is – sensationalism. These theologians have made so much noise with their smart slogan, that nowadays one expects to look for news of theology not in the Religion section, but in the Obituary columns.Their criticism of the “old fashioned religion” – especially if we seek to apply it to Judaism – is a crude caricature, almost vulgar in its insinuations. They have set up a straw man and now knock it down. No intelligent Jew ever thought of God as a man with a white long beard who lives in a castle beyond the sun. No half sophisticated human being who believed in God ever imagined Him as orbiting the globe in a spaceship. Any imputation of such primitive concepts to religious folk of ages past, is merely a species of intellectual dishonesty.What do these theologians mean with their intemperate slo…

Our Sidra of this morning records the dramatic death-bed scene in which Jacob prophesies concerning his twelve sons, the progenitors of the twelve tribes of Israel, as they stand about him. A similar scene occurs at the very end of the Bible, where Moses, before his death, blesses the tribes and prophesies concerning them. The comparison between the statement of Jacob and Moses makes for a fascinating study. One interesting example is that of Dan. Jacob says concerning his son Dan: יהי דן נחש עלי דרך שפיפון עלי ארח הנשך עקבי סוס ויפל רכבו אחור. לישועתך קויתי ה’.ש “Dan shall be a serpent in the way, a horned snake in the path, that biteth the horse’s heels, so that his rider falleth backward, I wait for Thy salvation, O Lord” (Gen. 49:17,18). Moses, however, said the following concerning the tribe of Dan, descendants of the original son of Jacob: דן גור אריה יזנק מן הבשן, “Dan is a lion’s whelp, that leapeth forth from Bashan” (Deut. 33:32).We are then confronted with two problems: First, why does Jacob refer to Dan in the metaphor of a nachash, a serpent, while Moses refers to him as an aryeh, a lion? And second, why does Jacob append to his prophecy the prayer לישועתך קויתי ה’ש, “I wait for Thy salvation, O Lord”?My grandfather, of blessed memory, who raised this question, answered it in his own way – one that is subtle and poetic. This morning I would like to suggest, as an alternative solution, a slightly different approach.Dan was the border tribe of Israel, the one that was most exposed. Beginning from the exodus from Egypt, Dan was in an exposed position as the מאסף לכל המחנות, the hindmost in the line of march, and therefore the one most liable to be attacked. When the Israelites settled the land in the days of Joshua, Dan was assigned the northernmost area of Canaan, that unprotected border with Syria and Lebanon. Therefore, Dan was always on the firing line, and had to be prepared to defend itself and the entire country by fighting. What is true of the kib…

Last week we tried to explain why Jacob bequeathed the mantle of leadership not to his favorite son, Joseph, but to Judah. Today I should like to offer an answer to the question of why this gift of מלכות (sovereignty, leadership) was given by Father Jacob to Judah rather than to Reuben, who as the eldest son was the most likely candidate for that office. In order to appreciate the choice of Judah over Reuben, let us go back just a bit into the life of Jacob, to the painful episode when the viceroy of Egypt, whom the brothers do not recognize as Joseph, demands of the brothers that they bring with them on their next trip their youngest brother Benjamin – who is the only full brother of Joseph. Meanwhile, Joseph holds Simeon as a hostage. The brothers return to Jacob in Canaan, and when the provisions begin to run low, they plead with their father to entrust Benjamin to them so that they may go down to Egypt and restock their dwindling supplies. But Jacob is, understandably, adamant. He will no longer trust his sons, certainly not with the only child he has left from his beloved Rachel. The sons continue to implore their father to accede to their request, but the more they beseech him, the more is the old father reluctant. Finally, out of sheer desperation, the eldest son Reuben turns to his father and says, “I will guarantee the safe conduct and return of Benjamin, and if not:את שתי בני תמית, you can take the life of my own two children in return.” Jacob listens to this strange offer of holding his own two grandsons as hostages, and his answer is negative. He will not give over Benjamin into the care of Reuben. At last, it is Judah who speaks and says: “I will guarantee the safe return of Benjamin, and if not, וחטאתי לך כל הימים, “then let me bear the blame forever.” The Tradition maintains that Judah here offered as surety שתי עולמות, his two worlds. If he would not restore Benjamin to Jacob, then he would yield his claim to both worlds. He would be willing to abdi…

My recent trip to Israel, from which I returned this past week, was qualitatively different from my many previous trips. I am still in the grip of the mood of the country – indeed too much so to be objective. I shall therefore leave the analysis for some other occasion, and offer now my personal impressions, given without claim to special expertise and without having been privy to any inside information. The mood in Israel today is not a simple or homogeneous one. It is quite complicated and often contradictory. Instead of describing it in overall terms, it is best to identify the ingredients of this mood. Perhaps the best way to begin is by observing the difference between us and the Israelis. During the first several days of the war, we recited tehillim (Psalms) at our daily services, and read the “Prayer for the State of Israel” with special fervor. But after a week or two we stopped, feeling that the danger had passed. In Israel, to this day, every service includes the recitation of tehillim.It is true that the deep gloom has lifted somewhat both because of the Geneva conference (although Israelis hardly trust it) and the increase in tourism. The rise of tourism is uplifting for Israelis, especially since they correctly consider it as the barometer of what the world thinks of Israel’s chances, much as the stock market is a psychological indicator. It is hard to emphasize how important it is for us American Jews to visit Israel now. But sadness remains a primary ingredient of the mood, and it is very real. אבלות (mourning) grips so many of those who have lost members of their families and those who have lost friends or whose friends are in mourning. Never before have I seen so many people, especially children, rise to recite the orphan’s kaddish in synagogues. It is not uncommon to see maimed or bandaged young men on the street. In many neighborhoods or kibbutzim the population is heavily female, with hardly a man in sight. A young lady from America, who accomp…