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Aaron Streiter

The present study, addressed to traditionalist Jews concerned with theology, presents a fact, discusses the response it necessitates, and explains why a counter-response offered by some traditionalists is antithetical to traditionalism, and therefore without value to it.

The study defines traditionalist Jews concerned with theology as those Jews who believe that God revealed to the Jewish people, through Moses, at Mount Sinai, two works: the Pentateuch (the Written Law), revealed as a text, whose two major components are a sacred history, primarily of the Jewish people, and a codex, binding on the Jewish people; and the Mishnah (the Oral Law), an elucidation of the codex revealed orally, transmitted orally for generations, then redacted as a text; and that, as a result of divine decree and the diligence of Jewish traditionalists, the two works have been transmitted without corruption through some thirty-five hundred years, from the moment they were Revealed to the Jewish people at Mount Sinai to the present.1 When the two works are considered together – as they must be, because they were revealed together, and are therefore equally sacred - they are called a single work, the Torah.

The belief is encapsulated in the following affirmation:

This is the Torah that Moses presented before the Israelites (Deuteronomy 4:44), according to God’s word through Moses (Numbers 9:23).2

The affirmation, recited whenever the scroll containing the Pentateuch is displayed during communal services, is taken as literal truth. Thus, to Jewish traditionalists it is axiomatic that some thirty-five hundred years ago, at Mount Sinai, God Revealed Himself to the Jews, and gave them the Torah, a work identical to the work they still study.

Moreover, they regard both the purpose and the value of the work as axiomatic. The purpose is to provide Jews, to whom God feels especially bound, a comprehensive guide to sacred history, and to conduct. And the work is uniquely valuable, because, as its Author alone is perfect, it alone is perfect.

That being the case, to traditionalist Jews it is in addition axiomatic that nothing can be more important than constant, exhaustive study of the Torah. For nowhere else can they locate themselves in history, or learn what God demands of them.

(Throughout the present study, traditionalists means traditionalist Jewish commentators, and traditionalism means Jewish traditionalism.)

The fact central to the study is that, in a significant number of instances, perhaps even typically, as regards both sacred history and codex, the plain meaning of the Pentateuch is impossible to understand; basically because, whenever God, so to speak, wants to, He uses language to preclude understanding; in the sacred history by describing events in language that supports, often, perhaps even typically, a multitude of equally plausible meanings, and in the codex by mandating law in language that supports, often, perhaps even typically, equally plausible but irreconcilable mandates, usually two of them.

In the opinion of the present study, traditionalism necessitates two related responses to the fact above: that, in a significant number of instances, perhaps even typically, inquiry can prompt only plausible speculation, not certainty: that is to say, not truth, defined as the position that exists in the mind, or in the will, so to speak, of God; and that a counter-response to the fact that derives from a view of reality antithetical to that of traditionalism, when focused upon a theological question that, though not (except in one opinion, regarding a specific group of laws in the codex) interdicted, perforce yields nothing of value to traditionalism.

That the fact central to the study exists cannot be attributed to errors in the text of the Pentateuch, because it was revealed by the only Author who is, axiomatically, incapable of error, or to defects of transmission or editing, because it is axiomatic that God intended, and traditionalists have therefore perforce assured, that it never be marred by corruption. That is to say, to traditionalists the fact central to the present study must bespeak the intent of the Author to embed in the Pentateuch, in a significant number of places, perhaps even typically, the motif of mysterium, of incomprehensibility. And, as He is perfect, He must have written a perfect book; and that has always been, and always will be, the book traditionalists study and revere.

That a God who is essentially incomprehensible should have done that is not, as a theological matter, problematic to traditionalists; and neither are two related responses necessitated by what He did: to acknowledge that, often, perhaps even typically, the Pentateuch precludes not inquiry, but certainty about the conclusions inquiry prompts; and to be, at the minimum, wary of a counter-response to the fact derived from a view of reality antithetical to that of traditionalism. Traditionalism encourages almost unlimited inquiry, and tolerates even inquiry rooted in the view of reality noted that is antithetical to its own; but stipulates, in the opinion of the present study, that often, perhaps even typically, the conclusions prompted are of value only as plausible speculation; a stipulation that applies to all inquiry about the Pentateuch except inquiry about a specific set of laws that either must not, or may not (opinions differ), be thought about, but that, as regards a theological question of no moment to traditionalism, in the opinion of an esteemed modern traditionalist and of the present study, is valueless because perforce vain, or—the equivalent word—futile.

That traditionalists have accepted the freedom of inquiry noted, and, as a theological matter, the stipulation noted, is evident. That they have, as a practical matter, accepted the stipulation, is not evident. Traditionalists discuss without hesitation virtually every event in sacred history recorded in the Pentateuch, and every law in its codex. And all of them affirm, as theologians, that because God is impenetrably Other, His book must be, in some significant measure, perhaps even typically, impervious to understanding. As a practical matter, however, they typically presume that little, if anything, is beyond their understanding, and therefore typically explicate, with apparent confidence, virtually every word of the Pentateuch. Their deference to mysterium notwithstanding, they typically trust their minds to understand, more or less completely, God’s book, without much noting that their conclusions are often, perhaps even typically, perforce nothing more than plausible speculation.

But that trust may hinder, rather than promote, understanding. If mysterium is not only a theological fact, but, as will be shown, at the minimum a significant impression, and perhaps even a pervasive impression, that must result from a productive encounter with the Pentateuch—if, that is to say, it is a dictum almost never asserted explicitly in the text, but an unavoidable conclusion often, perhaps even typically, implicit in its language—traditionalists should be persuaded to trust their minds to speak with certainty less than they typically do. They should, in other words, be persuaded that, in some significant measure, perhaps even typically, accepting that a limitation of thought is, in the Pentateuch’s view of reality, inherent in the human condition yields deeper understanding than does thought itself.

As will be shown, persuading them of that necessitates persuading them that their apparent confidence about the power of thought to yield certainty derives from a view of reality that is antithetical to their own, and that obscures, rather than illuminates, their understanding of the Pentateuch, and therefore of the view of reality the Pentateuch defines.

In the introduction below, to underscore the fact central to the present study, a brief analysis shows that language is sometimes used to preclude understanding of the sacred history narrated in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Chapters of the Book of Exodus. Then the study shows that language is similarly used in significant, perhaps even in pervasive, degree, throughout the Pentateuch, in the sacred history it narrates, and in the law it expounds. The study thus demonstrates that mysterium is a significant, perhaps even a pervasive, motif in the Pentateuch, and argues that in consequence traditionalism must be grounded, as a practical as well as a theoretical matter, not in a conviction, essentially antithetical to it, that the human mind intelligent enough and well enough disciplined can understand all of reality, but in the contrary conviction that, to a significant, perhaps even to a pervasive, degree, reality cannot be understood.

The Nineteenth and Twentieth Chapters of the Book of Exodus appear to begin recounting the seminal event of sacred history—the experience by the Jews of Revelation at Mount Sinai—in a straightforward, unambiguous narrative. In fact, however, so many difficulties are embedded in the narrative that the more closely it is looked at, the more, to at least a significant degree, perhaps even typically, it precludes understanding.

The first two verses, for example, 19:1-2, seem to contain too many words. In Kaplan’s translation they read as follows:

[1] In the third month after the Israelites left Egypt, on the first of the month, they came to the desert of Sinai. [2] They had departed from Rephidim and had arrived in the Sinai Desert, camping in the wilderness. Israel camped opposite the mountain.

Recast more succinctly, the two verses would read as follows:

[1] In the third month after the Israelites left Egypt, on the first of the month, they came to the Sinai Desert. [2] They camped there, in the wilderness, opposite the mountain.

There seems no need to repeat in 19:2 the assertion in 19:1 that the Jews came to the Sinai Desert. (Kaplan’s substitutions—of “arrived” for “came,” of “Sinai Desert” for “the desert of Sinai,” and of “wilderness” for “desert”—are misleading. In none of the three instances do the Hebrew words change. And Kaplan does not translate “there,” the Hebrew sham.) There seems no need either to state that the Jews had come from Rephidim, because that was stated in Exodus 17:1. And the reference to “the mountain” is not clear, because the definite article presumes an antecedent, but none exists. An unusually retentive reader may recall that when Moses spoke with God at the burning bush, on “God’s Mountain, in the Horeb area,” (3:1) he was told that after the Exodus the Jews would “become God’s servants on this mountain,” (3:12) and that later Moses was visited by his father-in-law in “the desert . . . near God’s mountain.” (18:5) But most readers will recall neither reference; in any case, neither can be called an antecedent; and it is by no means clear that “God’s mountain” is “the mountain” mentioned in 19:2.

In 19:3, God’s instruction to Moses—“This is what you must say to the family of Jacob and tell the Israelites”—seems to contain too many words. Either “the family of Jacob” or “the Israelites” would seem sufficient.

In 19:5, Moses is instructed to tell the Jews:

“Now if you obey Me and keep My covenant, you shall be My special treasure among all nations, even though all the world is Mine.”

This verse contains two difficulties. First, it is not clear what the difference, if any, is between “obey Me” and “keep My covenant,” because obedience would appear to consist solely in keeping God’s covenant, and therefore it is not clear what God intends by “obey Me.” This difficulty would be eliminated by translating the Hebrew as, “Now if you obey Me by keeping My covenant.” But that translation would not be faithful to the Hebrew. Moreover, it is not clear what covenant God is referring to, because He has never mentioned to the Jews a covenant with them. Second, a lacuna seems to exist in 19:5. Moses is instructed to tell the Jews that, if they keep God’s covenant, they will be His “special treasure among all nations, even though all the world is Mine.” Kaplan follows Ibn Ezra in rendering the Hebrew ki as “even though.” Even that unusual rendering indicates that, at the minimum, words are missing that are necessary to connect “all the world is mine” to the rest of God’s statement. The more usual rendering of ki, “because,” underscores the disconnect.

The closing instruction in 19:6—“These are the words that you [Moses] must relate to the Israelites”—seems unnecessary. It seems simply to repeat 19:3—“This is what you must say to the family of Jacob and tell the Israelites.” And by omitting “the family of Jacob” it underscores that the appearance of those words in 19:3 seems unnecessary.

Because God has instructed Moses to convey His message “to the Israelites”—that is to say, to the entire nation—it is not clear why, in 19:7, Moses summons only “the elders of the people,” or why, in 19:8, not they but “all the people answered as one.”

The difficulty, in 19:9, in God’s assertion that the spoken Revelation will be addressed only to Moses cannot be immediately recognized. God tells him:

“I will come to you in a thick cloud, so that all the people will hear when I speak to you.”[emphasis added]

The spoken Revelation begins, in 20:1, with an assertion—“God spoke all these words”—that does not specify who is being addressed. The Ten Pronouncements (not “Commandments,” a different Hebrew word) are expressed in the singular, and therefore may be addressed only to Moses, not to all of the Jews. At some unspecified moment—whether before, during, or after the spoken Revelation is not clear—the Jews, terrified, beg Moses, in 20:16, “You speak to us, and we will listen. But let God not speak with us any more, for we will die if He does.” (The words “any more” in Kaplan’s translation do not appear in the Hebrew text. Ramban, in his commentary on 20:15, says they should not be inserted.) But after the Pronouncements are made, God reminds the Jews, through Moses, in 20:19, that “I spoke to you from heaven,” “you” being emachem, the plural in Hebrew. (It is used again in Deuteronomy 5:4, when Moses reminds the Jews that at the Revelation “God spoke to you, face to face.”) Thus, it may not be not possible to know to whom God addresses the Ten Pronouncements.

Nor may it be possible to know whether the Jews even hear the Pronouncements. God asserts that “all the people will hear when I speak to you.” But it is not clear from 20:15-16 whether they hear (and see) anything more than the turmoil on Mount Sinai:

[15] All the people saw the sounds, the flames, the blast of the ram’s horn, and the mountain smoking. The people trembled when they saw it, keeping their distance. [16] They said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen. But let God not speak to us any more, for we will die if He does.”

The Jews are terrified enough by the sounds, the flames, the blast of the ram’s horn and the smoking of the mountain to tremble, and to keep their distance; they sense they will not be able to bear the additional terror of hearing God speak; and therefore they beg Moses to listen in their behalf. That is the plain meaning of the text, unless the turmoil persists while God speaks. If it does, the Jews may be terrified by the combination of the turmoil and hearing God speak. That, it seems, must be the case, because God says the Jews will hear Him speaking to Moses. But whether or not they do is not clear. Neither is it clear whether the turmoil of the mountain terrifies them before, while, or after the Pronouncements are spoken.

The assertion, in 19:9, that “Moses told God the people’s response” to the offer made by Him in 19:4-6 seems unnecessary, because it seems to repeat the assertion in 19:8 that “Moses brought the people’s response back to God.”

The assertion in 19:13 that anyone who touches the mountain during the Revelation will be killed can be translated in so many ways, it is not possible to know what it means. Kaplan translates it, “You will not have to lay a hand on him, for he will be stoned or cast down.” But as he notes, the Hebrew can also be translated in the following ways:

You will not have to . . .(Targum Yonathan). Or, “Do not touch him with your hand” (Lekach Tov; Rashbam; Ibn Ezra; Baaley Tosafoth). Or, “Let no hand touch [the mountain]” (Mekhilta).

cast down. (Sanhedrin 45a; Rashi; MeAm Lo’ez; cf: Malbim; Hirsch). Or, “he shall be stoned or shot [with an arrow]” (Rashbam; Ibn Ezra; Bachya; Abarbanel; cf. 2 Chronicles 26:15) or, “He will be stoned or killed with lightning bolts” (Targum Yonathan). Others, “Let no man touch [the mountain] with his hand, for he must then be put to death by stoning [after being] thrown down” (Mekhilta; Sanhedrin 45a) See 21:31, Leviticus 4:23.

Because every one of the translations above is faithful to the Hebrew, it is not possible to know which of them conveys the plain meaning of the text; or, indeed, if any of them does.

The assertion, in 19:13, that the prohibition against touching the mountain will end when “the trumpet is sounded with a long blast” seems to mean the Jews may touch the mountain in 19:16, when “an extremely loud blast of a ram’s horn” is heard. But in 19:21 they are reminded “not to cross the boundary” because doing so “will cause many to die.” Though Kaplan translates ha’yovel as “trumpet” and shofar as “ram’s horn,” other traditionalists translate both words as “ram’s horn,” as Kaplan indicates in a footnote. Thus it is not clear whether the Jews could have touched the mountain once the ram’s horn had sounded, or even (to translate 19:13 more accurately than Kaplan does) b’emshoch ha’yovel, while the ram’s horn is sounding. Neither is it clear why 19:13 and 19:19 refer, respectively, to ha’yovel, to the trumpet, and to ha’shofar, to the ram’s horn, because no antecedent exists for either reference, whereas 19:20 refers to a ram’s horn.

The command to the Jews regarding the mountain is accompanied by two other commands, both problematic. Moses is instructed, in 19:12, somehow to “sanctify” the Jews; but how he must do that is not clear. And he must warn them about the mountain; but neglects, it seems, to do so.

His apparent neglect is puzzling, for three reasons. First, God commanded him to issue the warning. Second, it is a matter of life and death. And third, when the Revelation begins, God and Moses seem to speak at cross-purposes. God’s instruction to Moses, in 19:21, already noted, to “warn the people that they must not cross the boundary . . . because this will cause many to die” seems to presume that Moses has not yet issued that warning. Moses, however, insists, in 19:23, that God Himself issued it: “You already warned them to set a boundary around the mountain and to declare it sacred.” But God, it seems, did no such thing; He ordered Moses to issue the warning, and Moses, it seems, did not issue it.

To the concerns regarding sacred history noted thus far, the general response of secular critics is unobjectionable. As the text of Exodus is, in their opinion, a composite work, written over centuries by a number of authors, and edited in a similarly collective fashion, concerns of all sorts inevitably exist; and the task of criticism is in consequence by various means to establish a standard text, and to analyze the concerns that exist in it by analyzing the cultures in which it evolved; in particular, their philosophical, religious, aesthetic, and linguistic presumptions. In this view, the Book of Exodus is no different from, say, The Odyssey, a work fashioned slowly over time by human beings rooted in particular cultures, and therefore, however impressive, inevitably flawed.

To traditionalists such a view is unacceptable, because it conflicts with the theological axiom, noted above, upon which all of traditionalism is founded: that the Book of Exodus, like the rest of the Pentateuch, was dictated by God to Moses during the Revelation at Mount Sinai, some thirty-five hundred years ago, and has been preserved uncorrupted since then by divine decree effected by traditionalists.

In this view, the Pentateuch is different in kind from any book that exists, or can exist. Because it was written by an omniscient and benevolent God as a comprehensive guide to sacred history and to conduct, it must be a perfect work; the only work, indeed, that can be imagined in which intention and execution are perforce identical; that is to say, in which the Author knew precisely what He wanted to say, and said it precisely as He intended to. And because He loves Jews in particular as a father loves his children, His basic intention must have been to edify them.

This view of the book, formulated classically by Maimonides, and epitomized in the contemporary statement below, has been the cornerstone of traditionalism for at least the past sixteen hundred years, from the time the Talmud,3 the work that interprets the Torah, was redacted to the present:

Maimonides, or Rambam, formulated the Thirteen Principles of Faith, which are incumbent upon every Jew. Two of them, the eight and the ninth, refer to the Torah. As they have been set down briefly in the familiar text of Ani Maamin, they are:

8. I believe with complete faith that the entire Torah now in our hands is the same one that was given to Moses, our teacher, peace be upon him.

9. I believe with complete faith that this Torah will not be exchanged, nor will there be another Torah from the Creator, Blessed is His Name.

These principles are essential parts of the faith of the Jew, and they are also fundamental to the way one studies the Torah. For the attitude of one who approaches a book as the immutable word of God is far, far different from that of one who holds a volume that was composed by men and emended by others over the years. As we begin the study of the Torah, we should resolve that this recognition of its origin and immutability will be in our consciousness always.

In several of his writings, Rambam sets forth at much greater length the unanimously held view that every letter and word of the Torah was given to Moses by God; that it has not been and cannot be changed; and that nothing was ever or can ever be added to it. Indeed, the Talmud states emphatically that if one questions the Divine origin of even a single letter or traditionally accepted interpretation of the Torah, it is tantamount to denial of the entire Torah (Sanhedrin 99a).

This harsh judgment is quite proper, for if a critic can take it upon himself to deny the provenance of one verse or letter of the Torah, what is to stop him from discarding any part that displeases him? Modern times illustrate this all too clearly. And logic dictates that man cannot tamper with the word of God, not merely because man’s intelligence is of a different, infinitely inferior order, but because God and His wisdom are perfect, and, by definition, perfection cannot be improved . . . .

Throughout history, Jews have maintained the absolute integrity of their Torah scrolls, zealously avoiding any change, even of a letter that would not change the meaning of a word. They knew that their Torah was not merely a “sacred book,” it was the word of God, and as such it had to remain unchanged.4

The assertion that questioning “even a single letter or traditionally accepted interpretation of the Torah” amounts to “denial of the entire Torah” needs to be explained. Otherwise, the statement above is a theologically unexceptionable credo. Traditionalism accepts, as an act of faith, that the Pentateuch is a perfect work, dictated in its entirety by God to Moses at Mount Sinai, its absolute integrity uncorrupted since that seminal moment in history because of the zeal of traditionalists in effecting God’s intention that it not be corrupted. Therefore the task of traditionalism differs from, and is more difficult than, that of secular commentary. Both disciplines expound the Pentateuch. But traditionalists cannot be concerned with cultural anthropology, because they presume the Pentateuch did not evolve, but erupted, complete, from the Godhead, at Mount Sinai. And because they presume that it erupted perfect, they cannot presume that it is in any way flawed.

But that it seems to be flawed is evident, as even the close reading above of a short excerpt from Exodus shows, and as close readings of various sections of the Pentateuch, chosen at random, show. And therein lies the especial difficulty of traditionalism. The secularist can argue imperfection; the traditionalist cannot. And so traditionalists must presume, often in the face of apparently formidable evidence to the contrary, either that concerns regarding the text can be resolved, completely or in part, or that they are mysteries that perforce prove impervious to understanding.

Traditionalism is usually represented by, among others, Rashi, Ramban, Sforno, Saadia Gaon, Ibn Ezra, Chizkuni, Rashbam, Meam Loez, Abarbanel, Malbim, Baal Haturim, Siftei Chachomim, Rabbenu Bachya, Or Hachayim, Alshich, Daat Mikrah, Kli Yakar, and Midrash. But the volume and the range of related readings are vast; not only traditionalists have considered the concerns contained in Exodus 18 and 19, and in other sections of the Pentateuch to be discussed; concerns they have not discussed have been discussed elsewhere; and so the present study does not intend to be complete. But it need not be, to fulfill its objectives: to demonstrate the inherent intellectual limitation of traditionalism, to suggest that the limitation is a major strength, to reconcile traditionalists to the suggestion, and to caution them about the futility of studying traditionalism by reference to a view of reality antithetical to it.

Their disinclination to consider, as a practical matter, efforts to demonstrate the inherent limitation, not of inquiry itself, but of the knowledge, as opposed to the plausible speculation, it can provide is understandable, because, they believe, the Pentateuch, illuminated by the Talmud (the Mishnah, and the commentary upon it, the Gemara) is the only absolutely reliable guide to sacred history and to conduct, and because in consequence in proportion as they cannot understand its plain meaning, they cannot understand, to a certainty, their history, or know how to live.

The inherent intellectual limitation of traditionalist inquiry into sacred history may be underscored by its response to the concerns in the two chapters of Exodus discussed briefly above.

About how to explain two details of the seeming wordiness of 19:1-2 traditionalists differ.

As several of them note, the first three of the four verbs in 19:1-2 are in the plural, whereas the fourth, which repeats “camped,” is in the singular. Thus, the Jews “came” (ba’u) to Mount Sinai, having “travelled” (va’yisu) from Refidim, and “camped” (va’yachanu) in the desert. But they “camped” (va’yichan) near the mountain. On how to explain the grammatical shift opinions differ. Rashi explains it by asserting that the Jews stand at the mountain “as one person with one heart”—that is, to say, in perfect unity. Ibn Ezra explains that the second “camped” refers to the leaders of the Jews, who camp nearer to the mountain than do the others, and who are so few in number they are referred to in the singular. Ramban suggests that the second “camped” may show that the Jews had separated themselves from the eirev rav, the “mixed multitude” of non-Jews who had gone out of Egypt with them.

Because none of the opinions above is supported by evidence in the text, and because in consequence any one of them may be preferred to the other two, or all three may be disregarded, it is not possible, having read them, to explain the shift from plural to singular.

About the repetition of “Refidim” opinions also differ. Rashi, referencing Mechilta, notes that, because the arrival of the Jews at Refidim is mentioned in Exodus 17:1, and because they journeyed from there to the Sinai Desert, it seems unnecessary to mention in 19:1 that they journeyed from Refidim. In the opinion of Mechilta, it is mentioned to show that just as, having rebelled against God at Refidim, they repented, so they approach Mount Sinai repentant. In the opinion of Chizkuni, there is no evidence that they did repent at Refidim. In the opinion of Ramban, because the text uses the formulaic language “They journeyed from . . . and camped at” when recounting the journeys of the Jews in Numbers 33:1-49, no inference regarding repentance should be drawn from the use of the same language in Exodus 19:2. And if they did repent at Rifidim, it is not clear for what sin they are repenting when they stand at Mount Sinai.

Opinions regarding 19:3—“This is what you must say (to’mar) to the family of Jacob and tell (ve’tageid) the Israelites”—are so various, it is not possible to know what the verse means. Rashi conflates two readings in Mechilta: that “the family of Jacob” (le’beit yaacov) refers to the women, and “the Israelites” (livnei yisrael) refers to the men; and that the gentleness of to’mar as a tone of address differs from the stringency of tone of ve’tageid. Mechilta simply records both readings. Malbim asserts that “the family of Jacob” refers to most of the Jews, whereas “the Israelites” refers to Jews of high spiritual standing. Ibn Ezra asserts that “the Israelites” refers to “the elders” (hazkeinim), the communal leaders (ziknei ha’awm) to whom Moses conveys God’s message in 19:7. Chizkuni asserts that tomar refers to future events, whereas vuhtahgade refers to the recounting of history.

To account for the second of the seeming repetitions in 19:3—“Now if you obey Me and keep My covenant”—Ibn Ezra, Malbim, and Sforno assert that “obey Me” refers to obeying God’s commandments, whereas “keep My covenant” refers to living up to some unspecified covenant God and the Jews will enter into after He has made the Ten Pronouncements. In the opinion of Mechilta, “obey Me” refers to obeying God’s commandments, whereas “keep my covenant” refers to obeying specific commandments; in Rabbi Eliezer’s view, to observe the Sabbath; in Rabbi Akiva’s, to practice circumcision and to avoid idolatry. Ramban, Rashi, and Or Hachayim focus on one of the two phrases, and thus do not openly acknowledge that a repetition exists. Ramban asserts that “keep My covenant” refers to the covenant that God made with Abraham in Genesis 17:4-14, and thus implies that “obey Me” refers to some unspecified commitment to be made by the Jews, perhaps at Mount Sinai. Rashi agrees with Ibn Ezra that “keep My covenant” refers to living up to some unspecified contract God and the Jews will enter into after He has made the Ten Pronouncements. But unlike Ibn Ezra, he does not comment on “obey Me.” Or Hachayim, responding to the literal translation of shamoah tischmehu—not “obey Me,” but “listen, listen”—asserts that the first “listen” refers to the Written Torah, and the second to the Oral Torah, and thus that “obey Me” in Kaplan’s translation refers to obeying God’s commandments.

If it were permissible to edit the text, the seeming lacuna in 19:5 could be dealt with by moving “even though all the earth is Mine” and adding a few words to 19:6, so that the passage would read as follows:

“Now if you obey Me and keep My covenant, you shall be My special treasure among all nations, a kingdom of priests and a holy nation to Me. I can arrange that, because all the world is Mine, and therefore I can do as I wish.”

Because, however, traditionalists believe that the text cannot be edited, it resists understanding. In the opinion of Rashi, the lacuna indicates that God does not love non-Jews. In the opinion of Mechilta, Sforno, Ramban, and Or Hachayim, it forestalls the mistaken impression that God loves only the Jews, but emphasizes that His love for them is unique in intensity and in kind.

Commenting on the seeming redundancy of the closing instruction in 19:6—“These are the words that you [Moses] must relate to the Israelites”—Rashi, following Mechilta, explains that it charges Moses to say neither less nor more than God has commanded him to say. Malbim asserts that the closing instruction refers only to the closing words of 19:6; that is, that Moses is to convey all of God’s words to all of the Jews, with the exception of “You will be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation to Me,” which only the men are to hear.

Opinions differ about why, though instructed to convey God’s message to all of the Jews, Moses summons the elders, and why not they but all of the Jews respond to the offer from God that he conveys. In the opinion of Mechilta, Moses summons the elders to show his respect for them; and then presumably goes with them to the other Jews. In the opinion of Or Hachayim, he goes first to the elders because he is afraid the other Jews will not accept God’s offer, and needs the assurance that acceptance by the elders will provide. In the opinion of Malbim, Moses separates the Jews into groups, by degrees of spiritual elevation, then addresses each group separately. In the opinion of Chizkuni, he summons the elders simply to accompany him. (Therefore 19:7 should perhaps read not, as in Kaplan’s translation, “Moses . . . summoned the elders of the people, conveying to them all that God had spoken,” but “Moses summoned . . . the elders, and in their company conveyed to the people all that God had spoken.”)

The variety of equally plausible opinions about whether, during the spoken Revelation, God is addressing Moses, all of the Jews, or both, makes it difficult—perhaps impossible—to choose between them. As noted, God proposes to speak only to Moses—“I will come to you” and “speak to you”—then speaks to an unspecified audience—“God spoke all these words”—then perhaps addresses the Ten Pronouncements, all rendered in the singular, to Moses only, but then asserts that He has spoken to all of the Jews. When who heard what, and when, is considered, even the most careful reader may well not be able to prefer any of the answers proposed to the others; or, indeed, to conclude that any of them explains what happened.

In the opinion of Rashi, who references Mechilta, commenting on 20:1—“God spoke all these words, saying”—all of the Jews hear the Ten Pronouncements, uttered by God in a single instant, and bind themselves verbally to obey each Pronouncement. In the opinion of Sforno, who references Deuteronomy 5:19—“God spoke these words in a loud voice to your entire assembly from the mountain”—all of the Jews hear all of the Pronouncements. In the opinion shared by Ramban, in his commentary on 20:7, and by Rambam (Moreh Hanevuchim 2:32), the Jews hear only the first two pronouncements directly from God, and are taught the other eight by Moses.

When the Jews, terrified, draw back from the mountain is a matter of dispute. In Ibn Ezra’s opinion, in 20:17, they do so when they hear God speaking. Rashi agrees, asserting that in 20:15—“All of the people saw the sounds, the flames, the blast of the ram’s horn, and the mountain smoking”—“the sounds” refers to God’s words. In Ramban’s opinion, in 20:15, they draw back in terror before God utters the Pronouncements.

Opinions differ about how to explain the seeming repetition in 19:9. Rashi says that, to complement their message to God, in 19:8, the Jews send another: that they want to hear God’s Pronouncements directly from Him, not through Moses. Malbim distinguishes between “brought . . . back” (va’yasheiv) in “Moses brought the people’s response back to God” and “told” (va’yageid) in “Moses told the people God’s response.” Va’yasheiv, he says, refers to the response of the Jews to God’s offer, whereas va’yageid refers to some new matter; in this case, the Jews’ wish to experience prophesy at Moses’ level. In the opinion of Ibn Ezra, va’yageid refers to the response that Moses had already brought back to God in 19:8. In Ramban’s opinion, va’yasheiv refers to Moses’ intention—he goes back to God in order to tell Him the Jews’ response—whereas va’yagaeid refers to what he does—he tells Him.

About the function and the identity of the ram’s horn opinion is also divided. Following Mechilta, Rashi asserts that the Jews may not approach the mountain until a loud blast from the ram’s horn is sounded, the sign that the Divine has departed. Malbim asserts that, had they not been terrified (because they were spiritually weak), they could have approached the mountain while the ram’s horn was sounding; indeed, they could have ascended the mountain with Moses, and have experienced Revelation as he did. In Rashbam’s opinion, bimshoch ha’yovel should be translated not as “while the ram’s horn is sounding,” but as “when the ram’s horn stops sounding.” In the opinion of Saadia Gaon, when the ram’s horn sounds, any Jew may ascend the mountain. In the opinion of Ibn Ezra, only when Moses sounds a loud blast on the ram’s horn, when he returns from the second or the third (opinions differ) of his forty-day stays on the mountain may the mountain be ascended; but only by Aaron, two of his sons, and seventy designated elders. In the opinion of Chizkuni, referencing Saadia Gaon, any Jew may ascend the mountain; but only when Moses sounds a blast of the ram’s horn (not the ram’s horn that sounds at Mount Sinai) when the Tabernacle has been erected.

In the opinion of Rashi, the references to the trumpet and the ram’s horn indicate that the ram’s horn used at Mount Sinai was taken from the ram Abraham sacrificed in place of Isaac. Baal Haturim agrees, and notes that that ram’s horn was used again, by Joshua, to bring down the walls of Jericho. In the opinion of Ramban, that cannot be, because Abraham must have burned the ram’s horn with the rest of its carcass when he sacrificed it in place of Isaac.

Opinion is divided on how the Jews are to be sanctified. Ibn Ezra asserts that Moses is commanded to sanctify them by instructing them to immerse their bodies and their clothing. In the opinion of Ramban and Rashi, he is to instruct the men to refrain from sexual intercourse with their wives. In the opinion of Malbim, to remain eligible to receive the Revelation directly from God, rather than indirectly through Moses, the Jews are to be sanctified by having their souls elevated through a process of spiritual instruction that is not specified, and that the immersion of their bodies and clothing will betoken.

In his commentary on 19:21, Malbim assumes that a first warning not to touch the mountain exists in the text, and explains at length why, just before the spoken Revelation begins, God commands Moses to warn the Jews a second time about the mountain. Rashi’s opinion about “warn the people” is ambiguous. It may indicate that Moses is warning them for the first time. But Rashi may simply be commenting on ha’eid (“warn”), which means literally “bear witness,” to underscore the rabbinic requirement that Jews must be reminded in the presence of witnesses of known dangers when they are imminent.

Because traditionalist inquiry into the two chapters of Exodus discussed briefly and incompletely above is often, perhaps even typically, confronted with a multiplicity of equally plausible responses, often, perhaps even typically, asserted rather than supported by evidence, as that term is usually understood, to puzzling concerns, traditionalists cannot, in the opinion of the present essay, legitimately expect to attain knowledge to a certainty as regards those concerns, but must perforce settle for plausible speculation; their choices among the responses available often, perhaps even typically, matters of taste; and the possibility not discountable that none of their choices establishes the plain meaning of narrative debated.

That is true, for example, as regards the following concerns: why the arrival of the Jews at Rephidim seems to be recounted in too many words, why they are referred to first in the plural, then in the singular, whether or not the Jews repent at Rephidim, what, if anything, they repent of at Mount Sinai, who the family of Jacob and the Jews are, what the difference is between obeying God and keeping His covenant, why Moses addresses the elders, rather than, as commanded, all of the Jews, what covenant God is referring to when He tells Moses to convey His offer to the Jews, why He tells Moses twice to convey the offer, why He does not mention the family of Jacob the second time, how Moses is to sanctify the Jews, which ram’s horn is sounded at the mountain, whether Jews who touch the mountain will die, or will ascend it and in consequence see God, how they will die, if they will, when the ram’s horn will sound to signify the mountain is no longer dangerous and the Jews may in consequence ascend it, if they may, whether God intends to give the Torah to them directly, or indirectly, through Moses, whom God addresses during the spoken Revelation, when the Jews recoil in terror from the Revelation, how much of the spoken Revelation they hear. About none of these concerns does the Pentateuch speak clearly.

And as that is the case not only as regards the two chapters discussed above, but, as will be shown, as regards other sections chosen at random, and as could be shown, as regards almost every section of the Pentateuch, mysterium is a significant, perhaps even a pervasive, motif in the Pentateuch. The two chapters discussed, for example, are part of a single dramatic unit—the Revelation, and the building of the Tabernacle—that occupies the fifty-seven chapters from Exodus 19 to Numbers 9, each of them full of the sorts of concerns relating to sacred history discussed above (and further complicated by concerns, not yet discussed, relating to the exposition of law). And as that dramatic unit is but one of the many, equally complicated, that constitute the Pentateuch, affirming that, to some significant extent, perhaps even typically, the plain meaning of the text is impossible to establish to a certainty is, in the opinion of the present study, an indispensable prerequisite to a productive encounter with it.

That affirmation must be made equally by secular scholars and by traditionalists. But, as noted, it is much more difficult for traditionalists to make, because much more is at stake for them. Secular scholars undertake to study a text similar in kind to all others. Their intent is entirely intellectual: to understand it. Difficult concerns do not surprise them, given their presumptions about how the text evolved. And whether the concerns in fact defy comprehension remains for them an open question, to be answered as knowledge in a variety of relevant disciplines advances. Traditionalists, by contrast, undertake to study the only book ever written by their God, and therefore the only book perforce perfect, transferred from, so to speak, His head to His Chosen People in an instant about which all of history pivots, and during which a sacred history was narrated and a comprehensive code of conduct was expounded. Their intention is essentially theological: to understand the history He directs, and the system of law He mandated, primarily to the Jews, His Chosen People. To the extent that puzzling concerns exist, they cannot understand their history, or how to live. Thus, a sense of seriousness, urgency and anxiety perforce absent from secular scholarship attends their study of the text in general, in proportion as the puzzling concerns prove impervious to understanding.

And that many of them do prove impervious to it is a fact, from which, for traditionalism, there is no refuge. Not all puzzling concerns in the Pentateuch are beyond understanding. But against the significant number at least that are not even two theological dicta invoked, often, and almost formulaically, afford protection. The dictum that many plain meanings of a narrative fact may co-exist (shivim panim la’torah) must mean something metaphorically, as must the related dictum that interpretations that seem contradictory may be true (eilu ve’eilu divrei elokim chayim). But neither dictum can have literal meaning when a concern regarding historical fact is studied. For example, the ram’s horn that signals Mount Sinai may once again be approached cannot be sounded by God when the spoken Revelation ends and by Moses when he returns from the second, or third, of his forty-day stays on the mountain. (Nor, as will be shown, can either dictum have literal meaning when irreconcilable interpretations of the plain meaning of a law are studied.)

Whatever the metaphoric meaning of the two dicta, concerns related to sacred history (and, as will be shown, concerns related to law) that are impervious to understanding constitute a significant, perhaps even a pervasive, motif in the Pentateuch. And that inescapable fact mandates three tasks. The fact must be documented, as regards both sacred history and law. The response the fact compels must be underscored, and discussed effectively enough so that, as a theological and practical matter, traditionalists consider it seriously. And that a counter-response antithetical to traditionalism perforce produces nothing of value to it must be demonstrated.

The first of the three tasks, begun in the analysis above of the Nineteenth and Twentieth chapters of Exodus, continues below, in further discussions of sacred history. Then, in turn, that the motif in the sacred history in the Pentateuch is, at the minimum, significant, and perhaps even pervasive, also in the codex it mandates is demonstrated, the response the fact compels is underscored, and the futility of the counter-response is discussed.

The apparent clarity with which the history of Joseph is narrated masks a wide variety of concerns that make it to some significant degree, perhaps even typically, impossible to understand what happens in two episodes to be discussed, and why Joseph and his brothers act as they do.

The episodes are contained in Genesis 37:1-36, and in 42:1-38. The first recounts the sale of Joseph into slavery in Egypt; the second recounts the first of the journeys into Egypt of his brothers to purchase food, and its aftermath.

The verse that introduces Joseph, 37:2, is problematic for a number of reasons, one of them obscured by Kaplan’s legitimate translation:

These are the chronicles of Jacob: Joseph was 17 years old. As a lad, he would tend the sheep with his brothers, the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father’s wives. Joseph brought his father a bad report about them.

A more awkward, but more revealing, translation underscores that it is not possible to integrate into the second sentence the clause highlighted below:

These are the chronicles of Jacob: Joseph, at 17 years old, would tend the sheep with his brothers, and he was a lad with the sons of his father’s wives Bilhah and Zilpah. Joseph brought his father a bad report about them.

The highlighted clause may mean that Joseph usually keeps company with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, rather than with his other brothers, all of them except Benjamin and Joseph, the sons of their dead mother, Rachel, the sons of Leah. But if that is the case, the plain meaning of the verse is that Joseph tends the sheep with all of his brothers, and brings his father a bad report about all of them, rather than, as Kaplan’s translation seems to indicate, that he tends the sheep only with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, and brings the bad report only about them. However, if the Hebrew words “and he was a lad” are detached, as they can be, from the rest of the italicized clause, Kaplan’s translation conveys the plain meaning of the verse, because it is then legitimate to regard “the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father’s wives” as in apposition to “with his brothers.” But if the words are detached, they can be moved only to the vicinity of “Joseph was 17 years old,” where they seem (as in Kaplan’s translation)to be redundant, because a boy of seventeen is obviously “a lad.”

The opening words of 37:2, and the nature of the report Joseph brings to his father, are also problematic.

The opening words—“These are the chronicles of Jacob”—are puzzling, because they introduce the chronicles not of Jacob, but of Joseph; and especially puzzling when compared to the opening words of 36:1—“These are the chronicles of Esau, also known as Edom”—that introduce the long detailed chronicle of Jacob’s brother that immediately precedes 37:2.

What the “bad report” contains is not specified. And whether the brothers know it exists, or what it contains, is not clear.

Why 37:3 asserts that Jacob “loved Joseph more than any of his other sons, because he was the child of his old age” is not clear, because, as Meam Loez notes, the child of his old age is Benjamin, because Naftali, Gad, and Issachar are only about a year older than Joseph, because Zebulun and Joseph are almost the same age (or, as one tradition asserts, Zebulun is younger than Joseph), and because all of the brothers seem to have been born within six or seven years.

If the brothers know about the “bad report,” it is not clear why “they began to hate” Joseph in 37:4 only because Jacob loves him more than he loves them, rather than also because they resent the report. (Nor is it clear how many of them might be expected to resent the report, because, as noted, it is not clear how many of them the report censures.)

Because to 37:8 Joseph has related only one dream (chalom), it is not clear why 37:8 asserts that his brothers hated him “even more because of his dreams (chalomtav) and his words.” Nor is it clear what the phrase “his words” refers to, since he seems to have spoken to them only of his dream.

Because Joseph’s mother, Rachel, is dead, it is not clear why, having heard Joseph’s second dream, Jacob includes her in his question in 37:10, “Do you want me, your mother, and your brothers to come and prostrate ourselves on the ground to you?”

The two assertions that constitute 37:11—“His brothers became very jealous of him, but his father suspended judgment”—are problematic in several regards. Why the brothers become jealous of Joseph only in 37:11 is not clear. Why hatred, which they feel from 37:4, leads to jealousy, rather than the reverse, is not clear. And the relation between the two assertions in 37:11 is problematic; especially because Kaplan’s translations are cryptic, and because, as will be seen, more literal translations are vague. That being the case, the relation between the two assertions is unclear. Jacob seems worried about the consequence of the brothers’ jealousy. But what precisely he is worried about is not clear.

Jacob’s charge to Joseph in 37:12-14 seems to contain too many words:

[12] [Joseph’s] brothers left to tend their father’s sheep in Shechem. [13] Israel said to Joseph, “I believe your brothers are keeping the sheep in Shechem. I would like you to go to them.” “I’m ready,” replied Joseph. [14] “Then see how your brothers and the sheep are doing,” said [Israel]. “Bring me a report.” [Israel] thus sent him from the Hebron valley, and [Joseph] arrived in Shechem.

Recast more succinctly, the charge would read as follows:

[12] [Joseph’s] brothers left to tend their father’s sheep in Shechem. [13] Israel said to Joseph, “[Go] see how your brothers and the sheep are doing. [14] Bring me a report.” [Israel] thus sent him from Hebron valley, and [Joseph] arrived in Shechem.

Joseph’s journey, in 37:15-17, towards his brothers is problematic in several regards; indeed, it is essentially mysterious.

[15] A stranger found him blundering about in the fields. “What are you looking for?” asked the stranger. [16] “I’m looking for my brothers,” replied [Joseph]. “Perhaps you can tell me where they are tending the sheep.” [17] “They already left this area,” said the man. “I heard them planning to go to Dothan.” Joseph went after his brothers and found them in Dothan.

The encounter of Joseph with “a man”(ish, not, as in Kaplan’s translation, “a stranger”) is puzzling per se, and in its details. It is not clear why the encounter is mentioned. Nor is it clear who the man is, why Joseph is blundering about in the fields, and what the import is of his conversation with the man.

The encounter at Dothan is problematic in several regards. How many of the brothers want to murder Joseph is not clear. Nor is it clear why they are easily dissuaded, by Reuben, and afterwards by Judah, why Reuben and Judah want to dissuade them, what the brothers, having cast Joseph into a dry well, plan to do with him, who removes Joseph from the dry well, who buys him, who transports him to Egypt, and who sells him into slavery there. Finally, it is not clear why, after Joseph is thrown into the well, Reuben suddenly disappears, and reappears after Joseph has been sold.

When the brothers see Joseph approaching, in 37:20, some of them at least want him dead.

“Here comes the dreamer,” they said to one another. “Now we have the chance! Let’s kill him and throw him into one of the wells. We can say that a wild beast ate him. Then let’s see what will become of his dreams!”

That Reuben, who immediately objects in 37:21-22, and Judah, who objects in 37:26-27, are not among the would-be murderers, is clear. But it is not clear who the conspirators are who speak “to one another,” or why, having said, in 37:20, “Let’s kill him,” they are dissuaded, almost without effort, first, by nothing more than Reuben’s assertion, in 37:21, “Let’s not kill him!” and by his suggestion, in 37:22, that contains no plan of action alternative to murder, that Joseph be thrown into the well; and afterwards, by Judah’s rhetorical question in 37:26, “What will we gain if we kill our brother and cover his blood?” Nor is it clear why Reuben and Judah object to the proposed murder, because, as noted, they hate Joseph apparently as much as the other brothers do, and apparently are as jealous of him. The assertion in 37:22 that Reuben’s “plan was to rescue [Joseph] from [his brothers] and bring him back to his father” does not explain why Reuben wants to do that. And Judah’s question underscores his rhetorical cunning, but does not explain why he does not want Joseph murdered.

That, having thrown Joseph into the well, the brothers still want to murder him is clear from Judah’s question to them. But why he nonetheless easily convinces them, in 37:27, to sell him is not clear.

Neither who removes Joseph from the well, nor who sells him to whom, is clear. While the brothers are eating, in 37:25, they see “an Arab caravan” (ohrchat yishme’eilim) passing by, and accept Judah’s advice, in 37:27, to sell Joseph “to the Arabs (la’yishme’eilim).” Kaplan’s translation in both verses is misleading; the Hebrew speaks of “a caravan of Ishmaelites” and “to the Ishmaelites.” The difference is important, because in 37:28 the following event occurs:

The strangers, who turned out to be Midianite traders, approached, and [the brothers] pulled Joseph out of the well. They sold him to the Arabs for twenty pieces of silver. [These Midianite Arabs] were to bring Joseph to Egypt.

This translation also is misleading. Translated literally, 37:28 reads as follows:

Midianite men, merchants, approached. They pulled and lifted Joseph out of the well. They sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver. They brought him to Egypt.

In this translation, a second group of Arabs, Midianites, approaches the brothers. And the first two uses of “they” are problematic. The first makes it impossible to determine whether the brothers or the Midianites lift Joseph out of the well; so it is impossible to determine whether the brothers or the Midianites sell Joseph to the Ishmaelites. If the brothers perform both actions, it is difficult to understand why the Midianites are mentioned. And if the Midianites perform both actions, it is difficult to understand why the brothers, who have accepted Judah’s advice, in 37:27, to sell Joseph to the Ishmaelites, do not object. And the assertion, not that the Ishmaelites “were to bring” Joseph to Egypt, but that in fact they “brought him” (va’yavi’u) there, seems contradicted by the assertion, in 37:36, that “The Midanites,” seemingly a third group of Arabs, “sold [Joseph] in Egypt to Potiphar, one of Pharaoh’s officers, captain of the guard.”

Finally, because all of the brothers are present when Joseph arrives at Dothan, and participate in all of the events there, it is not clear why 37:29 asserts that when “Reuben returned to the well, Joseph was no longer there.” He must leave sometime after Joseph arrives; but when, and why, where he goes, and why he returns when he does, are not clear.

The two verses that introduce the journey of the brothers into Egypt to purchase food seem to contain too many words, and two words difficult to understand.

The two verses, 42:1-2, read as follows:

[1] Jacob learned (va’yar) that there were provisions in Egypt, and he said to his sons, “Why are you fantasizing (titra’u)?” [2] “I have heard (shamati) that there are supplies in Egypt,” he explained. “You can go there and buy food. Let us live and not die.”

Rendered more succinctly, they would read as follows:

[1] Jacob learned that there were provisions in Egypt, and he said to his sons, “Why are you fantasizing? [2] You can go there and buy food. Let us live and not die.”

There seems to be no need for the words removed from 42:2.

The verb that opens 42:1, va’yar, means, not “learned,” as in Kaplan’s translation, but “saw.” Why the verb that seems to be appropriate, and that appears in 42:2, shamati, does not appear in 42:1 is not clear. Nor is it clear what the question that closes 42:1 means, because it is not clear that titra’u means fantasizing.

The assertion in 42:5 that the brothers journey to Egypt “because of the famine in Canaan” does not seem necessary, because it seems to repeat the assertion in 41:56 that “the famine was [also] growing more severe in the entire area.” At the minimum, “because of the famine in Canaan” should, it seems, be placed at the beginning of 42:1, the verse that immediately follows 41:56, so as to explain why Jacob speaks to his sons. But if it that were done, the seeming repetition would be underscored in an almost embarrassing fashion, because in the Hebrew (though not in Kaplan’s translation) 41:56 closes with the words “the famine was [also] growing more severe in the entire area,” and thus the altered text, 41:56-47:1, would read:

[56] People from all over the area came to Egypt to obtain rations from Joseph, since the famine was [also] growing severe in the entire area. [1] Because of the famine in Canaan, when Jacob learned that there were provisions in Egypt, he said to his sons, “Why are you fantasizing?”

Left where they appear, the words “because of the famine in Canaan” seem anti-climactic. Moved, they seem redundant. Thus, what purpose they serve is not clear.

When the brothers, having journeyed to Egypt, stand before Joseph, it is not clear why the text asserts twice, in 42:7-8, that he recognizes them.

[7] Joseph recognized his brothers as soon as he saw them. But he behaved like a stranger and spoke harshly to them. “Where are you from?” he asked. “From the land of Canaan—to buy food,” they replied. [8] Joseph recognized his brothers, but they did not recognize him.

Why “Joseph recognized his brothers” should not be removed either from 42:7 or 42:8 is not clear.

Nor is the dialogue about spying that unfolds clear; because it is not clear why Joseph charges the brothers with spying, or why they undermine their plausible defense by repeatedly offering more information than is asked for, and fail to note that Joseph reiterates, but does not support, his charge, and that satisfying his seemingly irrelevant demands will not exonerate them. Nor is it clear why they think they are in terrible trouble, or that the trouble is their punishment for having murdered Joseph, whom they last saw, years earlier, alive.

As will be seen, Joseph’s pretense for charging, in 42:9, the brothers are spies is, according to Midrash, that they entered the Egyptian city in which food was sold in a suspicious manner, and spent three days in a disreputable neighborhood. In fact, he levels the charge because “he remembered what he had dreamed about them.” But the cause and effect are not clear. As noted, he dreamed they would bow down to him. But why that memory, and its seeming actualization—in 42:5, “When Joseph’s brothers arrived, they prostrated themselves to him, with their faces to the ground”—should prompt the charge is not clear; if, indeed, they do prompt the charge. As will be seen, it is not clear that the memory has been actualized. And even if it has been, it is not clear that Joseph therefore decides the time has come for his entire family to be settled in Egypt. Nor, even if he has decided that, is it clear how his intent will be furthered by charging that the brothers are spies, because Joseph cannot know, when he levels the charge, that it will prompt the brothers to talk about Benjamin, and thus set in motion the elaborate charade that will reunite the family in Egypt.

Because the brothers appear before Joseph, in 42:5, together, their defense—that they have appeared openly for the innocent purpose of buying food—is plausible. But they undermine it by saying more than they should.

Their tendency to do so (which, as will be seen, many traditionalists argue, for the most part obliquely, is only apparent) appears in 42:7, and persists, to dangerous effect. In their response to Joseph’s first question, “Where are you from?” they say that they are from Canaan; and add, unasked, that they have come “to buy food.” The charge of spying against them repeated, in 42:11, they say, once again unasked, that they are “all the sons of the same man”; and repeat again, in 42:13, that they are “the sons of one man who is in Canaan,” and that “the youngest brother is with our father, and one brother is gone.”

It does not occur to the brothers that the proof Joseph demands of their innocence will prove nothing. One of them, he asserts in 42:16, is to return to Canaan, and bring Benjamin to Egypt. “This will test your claim and determine if you are telling the truth. If not, by Pharaoh’s life, you will be considered spies.” But how the appearance of Benjamin will prove they are not spies is not clear, because the two matters seem entirely unrelated. If he appears, Joseph will presumably acknowledge that he is their younger brother. But why he will therefore conclude they are not spies is not clear.

Nor is it clear why Joseph changes the conditions related to the test: why he asserts, in 42:16, that nine of them will remain imprisoned until the tenth returns with Benjamin, but three days later asserts, in 42:18, that only one of them will remain imprisoned, until the other nine return with Benjamin.

That the brothers should regard their predicament as punishment for the sin they committed against Joseph is understandable. But it is not clear why they regard the predicament as dire; why they seem convinced they murdered Joseph; or why Joseph, overhearing their conversation, weeps.

That conscience should afflict them in 42:21 is not difficult to understand. And Joseph does seem to threaten them with death, when he asserts in 42:20 that, if they return with Benjamin, “you will not die.” But because, to placate him, they must do nothing more than return with Benjamin, it is not clear why they seem convinced, in 42:22, that a “great misfortune” has come upon them. Nor is it clear why they seem to agree with Reuben, in 42:22, that “an accounting is being demanded for [Joseph’s] blood,” because, as noted, they have no reason to believe that Joseph is dead. And why Joseph cries is not clear.

Finally, the reaction of the brothers to a discovery they make at an inn on their way home to Canaan is difficult to understand. Having opened his sack to feed his donkey, one of them, in 42:27, sees his money, and exclaims, in 42:28, that it “has been returned . . .. It’s in my sack!” The other brothers seem profoundly shaken.

Their hearts sank. “What is this that God has done to us?” they asked each other with trembling voices.

It is not clear why each of them does not immediately search his sack (especially because each must feed his donkey); why they complete the journey home, report at length to Jacob what has happened, and only then, in 42:35, open their sacks, and discover that the money of each has been returned. It is not clear why—to say nothing of the terror they feel—not even curiosity prompts each of them to open his sack at the inn, or during the days—perhaps the many days—they are on the road home.

(Nor is it clear why, when they return to Egypt with Benjamin, they tell Joseph’s overseer, in 43:21, that at the inn “we opened our packs, and each man’s money was at the top of his pack.”)

According to Ramban, Joseph tends the family’s flocks with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah only. According to Abarbanel, all of his brothers merely supervise shepherds tending the flocks, and Joseph supervises all of his brothers. According to Sforno, Joseph instructs all of his brothers in shepherding. According to Rashi, Joseph tends the flock together with all of his brothers. Radak agrees; and adds that, because he is inexperienced, the brothers instruct him in shepherding. According to Daat Mikrah, the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah instruct him in shepherding. According to Rashbam and Chizkuni, Joseph tends the flock with the sons of Leah only. According to Malbim, Joseph shepherds his brothers spiritually—he instructs them in virtue—while they shepherd the flock.

According to Rashi, after his age is given as seventeen, Joseph is called “a lad” (naar) to indicate he is vain of his appearance, because he is immature. According to Ibn Ezra, because he is a naar, he is exploited by the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, who make him their servant. According to Alshich, because he is a naar he serves them as a matter of course (not, apparently, because they exploit him). According to Abarbanel, naar is a compliment: though he is only a lad, he is in charge of all of the shepherding, because, as noted, he supervises all of his brothers. According to Rashbam, the words “and he was a lad (naar) with the sons of his father’s wives Bilhah and Zilpah” indicate that he acts immaturely primarily when he consorts with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah. According to Daat Mikrah, the same words indicate that Jacob instructs the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah to educate Joseph. According to Sforno, naar indicates that, because he is immature, Joseph sins against his brothers by bringing bad reports about them to their father. According to Malbim, Joseph serves his brothers because he thinks it is appropriate that, as a naar, he do so. According to Ramban, he is called naar because he is less robust physically than his brothers, and because he is the youngest of the brothers involved in shepherding. (Ramban apparently assumes that Benjamin does not participate in the shepherding.)

According to Rashi, Ramban, and Malbim, the opening words of 37:2—“These are the chronicles of Jacob”—begin the narrative that occupies the rest of Genesis; in effect, the chronicles of the lives of Jacob’s children. Rashbam, who agrees, explains why the words cannot be understood as introducing a list of the progeny of Jacob (that is, why 37:2 cannot be parallel in meaning to 36:1, which introduces the chronicles of Esau). According to Ibn Ezra, Radak, and Sforno, the words refer to the events that occur to Jacob. According to Chizkuni, the words “These are the chronicles of Jacob, Joseph” indicate that the story of Joseph, interrupted by the chronicles of Esau, is resuming. Or Hachayim offers as the plain meaning of the words an interpretation Rashi seems to regard as homiletic: the assertion, in Midrash Rabbah 84:3, that because Jacob wishes to live in tranquility, a luxury God typically refuses to grant to saintly men, the anguish of Joseph’s disappearance is inflicted upon him. (Or Hachayim offers two other possibilities as the plain meaning of the words.) According to Abarbanel, because only Joseph emulates Jacob’s virtues, only he can properly be called his progeny, and thus only his life deserves to be chronicled.

According to Malbim, Joseph does not bring to his father any bad report—any slander—of his own regarding any of his brothers; he reports the evil rumors the sons of Leah are spreading about the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, and those the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah are spreading about the sons of Leah. And he does so in the pious hope that his father will admonish them. According to Sforno, the bad report is that the brothers are neglecting their work as shepherds. According to Rashi and Or Hachayim, who reference Bereshit Rabbah 84:7, Joseph brings to his father a bad report about the sons of Leah only: that they eat the limbs of living animals, demean the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, and engage in illicit sexual relationships. According to Rashbam, Joseph tells his father that, unlike Leah’s sons, he treats the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah with respect. According to Ibn Ezra, Joseph complains to his father that the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah have made him their servant. According to Ramban, he slanders only the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah; and in a particularly nasty fashion, as the seeming redundancy of dibatam ra (“a bad report”) indicates. According to Radak, Joseph tells his father his brothers hate him. According to Daat Mikrah and Alshich, the words “Joseph brings (va’yavei) his father (el avihem) a bad report about them” compliment Joseph, because the use of “brought” rather than “disseminated” (va’yotza) shows his restraint, as does the fact that he brings the report only to his father. According to Abarbanel and Alshich, Joseph repeats to his father—and only to his father—slander about his brothers that he hears in the marketplace, but that he himself does not believe.

According to Ababanel and Kli Yakar, Jacob loves Joseph more than he loves his other sons because Joseph is superior to them in wisdom, as he shows in the diversity of his responses: by behaving, for example, as a naar, a youth, when consorting with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, but as a ben z’kunim—not “a child of his old age,” but “a wise son who understands the deference due to old age”—when consorting with his old and saintly father. According to Rashi, ben z’kunim may be taken literally; or the words may mean that Joseph is preeminent in wisdom; or z’kunim is a play on two Aramaic words that assert that Joseph’s facial features are identical to Jacob’s. According to Ibn Ezra, the words must be taken literally, and they apply to Benjamin as well as to Joseph. Rashbam agrees that they must be taken literally; but adds that Joseph is the last of Jacob’s eleven children born in Padan-Aram, and that Benjamin is not born until many years after ben z’kunim is asserted. According to Radak, the words cannot be taken literally, because all of Jacob’s sons are born within seven years; they mean that Joseph is preeminent in wisdom. According to Ramban, Joseph cannot be singled out as literally a ben z’kunim, because all of Jacob’s sons are born to him in his old age, and because, as noted, Issachar and Zebulun are about the same age as Joseph; and the words ben z’kunim mean Joseph attends Jacob in his old age. According to Siftei Chachamim, all of Jacob’s sons except Benjamin are born within six years; people become accustomed to calling the youngest of them, Joseph, ben z’kunim; and continue to do so when Benjamin is born, years later. According to Chizkuni, Jacob does not love Benjamin, who is indeed younger than Joseph, as much as he loves Joseph, because Rachel died giving birth to Benjamin. According to Malbim, Jacob loves Joseph especially either because ben z’kunim is intended literally, or because Joseph attends him in his old age.

About why, in 37:8, Joseph’s brothers hate him for “his words” as well as for relating his dream, and about why a single dream is referred to as “dreams,” in the plural, opinions differ.

According to Rashi, Ralbag, and Rashbam, “his words” refer to the bad report—the slander of the brothers—that Joseph brings to their father. According to Rabbenu Bachya, Sforno, and Ramban, they refer to Joseph’s seeming arrogance in instructing the brothers, in 37:4, to “Listen to the dream I had.” (Rabbenu Bachya also notes his three-fold repetition in 37:7 of “behold!”—v’hinei—which Kaplan does not translate.) According to Kli Yakar, Joseph does not instruct his brothers arrogantly, but petitions them humbly, to listen to his dream; but they are so incensed by its substance that, despite their resolve not to talk to Joseph at all, they blurt out an indignant response, and hate Joseph the more that “his words” have provoked it. According to Or Hachayim, the brothers object both to Joseph’s assertion that he has had a dream (“his dreams”), and to the fact that he recounts it (“his words”). According to Malbim, their hatred increases because they are convinced that “his dreams” reflect what he has been thinking during his waking hours, and “his words” prove that he wants to be appointed their ruler at once.

According to Or Hachayim, although 37:8 speaks of only one dream, the plural is used because each of the three times Joseph says “behold!”—v’hinei—the brothers assume Joseph is speaking about a different dream; therefore they think that he recounts three dreams. According to Sforno and Alshich, “dreams” denotes the particulars of a single dream. According to Meam Loez, in 37:5 Joseph has a dream that he does not recount, and another dream, in 37:6-8, that he does recount; and thus “dreams” is to be understood literally.

According to Rashi, Jacob rebukes Joseph in 37:10 for seeming to predict that his mother, Rachel, who is dead, will one day bow down to him. Unaware that Joseph is referring to Bilhah, who raised him, Jacob undermines the credibility of the dream in order to nullify the brothers’ jealousy. Ralbag and Or Hachayim agree that that is why he undermines it. Whether Rashi and Ralbag think Jacob regards all of the dream as prophetic is not clear; according to Or Hachayim, Sforno, and Siftei Chachamim, Jacob does. According to Rashbam, Jacob would have rebuked Joseph for the reference to Rachel even if she had still been alive. Ibn Ezra agrees that Joseph is referring to Bilhah. According to Ramban, Jacob’s assumption that the moon in 37:9 in Joseph’s second dream—“The sun, the moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me”—refers to any of his wives is mistaken; it refers, in his opinion, to all of his descendants who go down to Egypt, except Joseph’s brothers (“the eleven stars”). According to Rabbenu Bachya, on the one hand, because Rachel could not bow down to Joseph, Jacob discounts the entire dream; on the other hand, he thinks it prophetic and looks forward to its fulfillment.

According to Rabbenu Bachya, commenting on 37:11, though the usual cause of hatred is jealousy, and the brothers already hate Joseph at 37:4, because of the colorful coat, they do not become jealous in earnest until 34:11, when they begin to take seriously the possibility that his dreams are prophetic, and that in consequence he may end up dominating them. (Why they do hate him Rabbenu Bachya does not seem to say; not, it seems, because of the colorful coat, which, he says, rouses only glancing jealousy.) According to Radak, commenting on 37:3, the brothers begin to hate Joseph because they are jealous of the colorful coat, and enraged that Joseph has slandered them. According to Ramban, commenting on 37:4, the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah hate Joseph because of their jealousy. According to Malbim, the brothers’ jealousy begins at 37:11, when they realize that Joseph’s dreams may be prophetic, and that therefore he may end up dominating them. According to Alshich, the brothers hate Joseph at 37:4 not because of jealousy, but because they fear that Jacob loves Joseph more than he loves them, and that therefore he will believe the slander about them that Joseph reports to him. According to Or Hachayim and Ralbag, commenting on 37:3, the brothers begin to hate Joseph in 37:4 because they cannot bear the combined pressure of two facts: that Joseph slanders them to Jacob, and that, through the colorful coat, Jacob in effect asserts publicly that he loves Joseph more than he loves them. And they are jealous of Joseph in 37:11 because they think God may have spoken to him in the dreams. According to Daat Mikrah, the sons of Leah begin to hate Joseph in 37:4 because of jealousy, and the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah begin to hate him because he slanders them to Jacob. According to Sforno, the brothers envy Joseph in 37:11 because Jacob loves him so deeply, he will listen to anything he recounts, even a seemingly arrogant dream. According to Abarbanel, the brothers begin to hate Joseph in 37:2, when they begin to suspect that he has slandered them to Jacob; and they stop hating him in 37:11, because they stop suspecting that he has slandered them, and begin to be jealous of him, because they begin to suspect that God may have spoken to him in the dreams. According to Meam Loez and Daat Mikrah, the brothers’ jealousy in 37:11 compounds their hatred.

Because, given the diversity of opinions above, it is not possible to establish why the brothers become jealous in 37:11, and because, as noted, the second of the two assertions in 37:11—“his father suspended judgment”—is cryptic or vague, the meaning of the verse is not clear. In Kaplan’s translation, it is not clear what matter Jacob is thinking about, and suspends judgment about, the brothers’ jealousy, or Joseph’s second dream (or both). In fact, it is not clear what “suspended judgment” means. And Kaplan’s translation is misleading, because the second assertion, translated literally, reads (as Kaplan notes), “his father kept the matter in mind.” But that translation is vague, because it does not specify what matter Jacob keeps in mind, or what his thoughts about the matter are. Traditionalists seem to agree that Jacob is thinking about Joseph’s dream. About what he is thinking, however, they differ. According to Rashi and Sforno, Jacob looks forward to the fulfillment of the prophesy in Joseph’s dream. According to Rashbam, when the brothers inform him, in 45:25, that Joseph is alive, and viceroy in Egypt, he believes them, because through the twenty-two years of Joseph’s absence he has kept in mind the prophesy in the dream. According to Or Hachayim, Jacob does not believe his own dismissive commentary on the dream that he hopes will placate the brothers: that because it is impossible that he and his dead wife will bow down to Joseph, the dream cannot be prophetic. According to Radak, Jacob keeps the dream in mind, but is not sure what it means. According to Ralbag, Jacob is immediately sure the dream is prophetic.

According to Abarbanel, the seeming wordiness of 37:12-14 underscores Jacob’s desire not to favor Joseph, and Joseph’s desire to obey his father. Jacob thinks it unfair that Joseph should sit comfortably at home while his brothers are shepherding at Shechem, and therefore suggests (but does not order) that Joseph join them. Joseph consents immediately, because he is humbly zealous to serve his father. According to Rashi, he consents though he knows his brothers hate him (and, presumably, may therefore try to harm him). According to Meam Loez, because Jacob knows that the brothers hate Joseph and are jealous of him, that to reach them he must cross dangerous open country, that Shechem itself is dangerous, and that a servant could easily make the trip, his recklessness in sending Joseph must demonstrate that God is using him to institute his descent, together with his progeny, into Egypt. Malbim agrees. According to Rashbam, Shechem is dangerous because its inhabitants must remember that in 34:25-27 two of the brothers plundered the city in retaliation for the rape of their sister Dina. According to Radak, Jacob does not think the journey will endanger Joseph; and Joseph is not afraid his brothers will try to harm him, because he is convinced that their hatred of him will be governed by their fear of their father. According to Daat Mikrah, Joseph humbly and eagerly obeys his father, though he knows his brothers hate him (and presumably, therefore, may try to harm him). According to Or Hachayim, Jacob believes that Joseph will be protected from the hatred of his brothers because he is honoring his father by obeying his order to visit them. According to Ralbag, Jacob sends Joseph to Shechem though he understands its inhabitants are furious that the two brothers plundered their city, and may therefore harm him. (Why Jacob would expose him to such harm Ralbag does not say.) According to Alshich, Jacob knows Joseph may be harmed by the inhabitants of Shechem, or by his brothers, and therefore does not order him to undertake the journey until he decides, on his own, to undertake it. According to Abarbanel, Jacob never suspects the brothers intend to harm Joseph.

According to Rashi, Abarbanel, and Or Hachayim, the man Joseph meets in the field is an angel; according to Rashi and Abarbanel, the angel Gabriel. According to Or Hachayim, Joseph does not realize the man is an angel. According to Alshich and Ramban, referencing Bereshit Rabbah 84:13, which notes that “a man” is repeated three times, Joseph meets three angels, Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael, each bearing a different message. According to Ibn Ezra, Joseph meets a man passing by.

According to Gur Aryeh, whose position is paraphrased in Siftei Chachomim, though the entire episode in the field seems unnecessary, it indicates that God, acting through an angel, is instituting the process by which Jacob and his progeny will be drawn down to Egypt; otherwise, having failed to locate his brothers in Shechem, Joseph would not have blundered about, but would have returned home. According to Ramban and Rashbam, the words “blundering about in the fields” bespeak many unspecified difficulties that prompt Joseph to return home that he disregards in order to honor his father’s order. According to Alshich, “blundering” indicates that, as the first angel tells Joseph, he has partially misinterpreted the first of his dreams.

According to Abarbanel, the hidden meaning in the man’s question to Joseph—“What are you looking for?”—is that the brothers will try to harm him; a meaning Joseph does not understand. According to Alshich, the man—in fact, the second angel—is asking Joseph whether he wants peace with his brothers, or strife. And his answer—“I’m looking for my brothers”—means that, whatever they want, he wants peace. According to Ralbag, the question, and the subsequent exchanges, seem to have only their apparent meanings. According to Rashi, beneath the plain meanings in the man’s last two assertions—that the brothers have already “left this area,” and that he has “heard them planning to go to Dothan”—are hidden meanings: respectively, that the brothers no longer feel related to Joseph, and that they are planning to kill him. According to Malbim, the closing assertion should have made Joseph suspicious; because Dothan is so far from Shechem, it should have occurred to him that the brothers want to lure him far from home, then to kill him. According to Alshich, the third angel tells Joseph that his brothers have gone to Dothan; that is, that they have distanced themselves completely from him.

As noted, Reuben and Judah are not among the would-be murderers. According to Daat Mikrah, Simon wants to put an arrow through Joseph at a distance. According to Meam Loez, who references Targum Yonatan, the chief conspirators are Simon and Levi. Abarbanel agrees, fixing on them by a process of elimination, and noting that the blood-thirst that prompted them to slaughter all the men in Shechem to avenge the rape of Dina prompts them to kill Joseph in Shechem. According to Ralbag, the brothers conspire equally.

Perhaps because the ease with which Reuben convinces the other brothers not to murder Joseph strains credibility, traditionalists assert that Reuben proposes—as a ploy, because he plans to rescue Joseph—only that Joseph be murdered indirectly, and that the other brothers agree only to that proposal. But they differ about how Reuben advances his proposal. It is not clear what, in Reuben’s opinion, the immediate consequences of the proposal will be.

According to Rashbam, Ralbag, Rabbenu Bachya, Ramban, and Sforno, Reuben tricks the brothers into casting Joseph into a deep well (from which he hopes to rescue him). According to Rashbam, Malbim and Ralbag, he convinces the brothers that Joseph will die by himself if they merely cast him into a well; and in the desert, where the chance that people will pass by and rescue him is slight. According to Ralbag, Rabbenu Bachya, Ramban, and Sforno, he convinces them also not actually to spill blood.

According to Rashi, referencing Shabbat 72a, and commenting on the assertion in 37:25 that the well into which the brothers throw Joseph “was empty; there was no water in it,” the well does contain poisonous snakes and scorpions. Ramban disagrees; in his opinion, the seemingly unnecessary words “there was no water in it” simply underscore that the well is completely dry. The disagreement is material to the discussion of Reuben’s intent, because, if the well does contain poisonous snakes and scorpions, and Reuben knows it, he must realize that his proposal exposes Joseph to mortal danger, and therefore, it seems, his intention cannot be to rescue him from the brothers. Thus, it seems, Reuben must think that the well is empty. But according to Alshich, referencing The Zohar, Reuben sees the snakes and scorpions, and nonetheless advances his proposal, because he is certain that they will be awed intuitively by the saintliness of Joseph, and will not in consequence harm him. (The Zohar does not seem to share Alshich’s certainty, because it assigns to Reuben only the hope that the snakes and scorpions will not harm Joseph.) According to Ramban, even if the Talmud that Rashi references is correct, it must be that Reuben does not see the snakes and scorpions, because they live in cracks in the well, or because the well is very deep; because if he did see them, he would understand the mortal danger they pose to Joseph, and withdraw his proposal.

According to Rashi, Reuben rescues Joseph because he thinks that, because he is the eldest of the brothers, Jacob will blame only him for Joseph’s death. According to Meam Loez, either of two motives may prompt Reuben: he thinks that, if the other brothers do kill Joseph and later regret having done so, they will rebuke him for not having stopped them; or he is grateful that, though in 35:21 he apparently violated his stepmother Bilhah, Joseph still regards him as a brother, because in his second dream eleven brothers (including Reuben) bow down to him. According to Abarbanel and Daat Mikrah, Reuben saves Joseph as penance for the sin he committed against Bilhah.

Because when the Ishmaelites appear all of the brothers, including Judah, still seem resolved to kill Joseph—though not directly, by shedding his blood—it is not clear why Judah suddenly suggests he be sold instead, and why the other brothers agree. Neither matter seems to have prompted commentary. And a few commentaries that seem to hint at an impulse of conscience in Judah, and perhaps in the other brothers, are especially puzzling, because Judah’s assertion in 37:26 that they will gain nothing if “we kill our brother and cover his blood” in essence reiterates Reuben’s proposal—that the other brothers seem not to regard as a ploy, and that does not seem related in their minds to conscience—that they kill Joseph, though without actually bloodying their hands. Thus, for example, the assertion of Alshich that Judah decides Joseph should not die when he realizes he must be saintly, because the snakes and the scorpions in the well, he notices, do not injure him, and the assertions of Sforno and Meam Loez that Judah realizes conscience will torment him and his brothers if they kill Joseph—an assertion which the other brothers seem to take seriously, because they agree that Joseph be sold—is inconsistent with the unshaken resolve of all the brothers, including Judah, to kill Joseph.