Vayishlach (5764)

From the book Mida Tova: Articles on the Hermeneutical Principles by Rabbi Michael Avraham. Translated from Hebrew using gpt-5.4 (reasoning_effort=high, batch API).

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With God’s help

Midah Tovah — Eve of the holy Sabbath, Parashat Vayishlach, 5765

Reversed Midrash (rabbinic interpretation) in Halakhic Drash (legal interpretation) and Aggadic Midrashim (non-legal expositions)

“And Jacob sent messengers ahead of him to Esau his brother.”

— Genesis 32:4

Rashi comments: “Actual angels.”

— Rashi on Genesis 32:4

“He wanted to send envoys to Esau, but no one was willing to go, because they were afraid. So he arose and sent ministering angels.”

— Midrash Yelamdenu on Genesis 32:4

“These messengers were nothing other than flesh-and-blood envoys. [But the Rabbis say: actual angels. If Eliezer, who was a servant of the house, had an angel attend him, then all the more so this one, who was beloved of the house.] Rabbi Hama son of Rabbi Hanina said: Hagar, Sarah’s maidservant, had five angels attend her; then all the more so this one, who was beloved of the house. Rabbi Yosei [Yannai] said: Joseph was the least of the tribes, and three angels attended him: ‘And a man found him’ (Genesis 37:15), ‘and the man asked him’ (Genesis 37:15), ‘and the man said, They have moved on from here…’ (Genesis 37:17). Then all the more so this one, who was their father.”

— Genesis Rabbah 75:4

Introduction: What Is an “Angel”?

The two midrashim cited above describe a well-known dispute, also brought by Rashi on that verse, over whether the messengers whom Jacob sent were actual angels or flesh-and-blood envoys. The word usually rendered “angel” literally means “messenger.” The spiritual meaning of the concept “angel” likewise derives from its being an emissary of the Omnipresent. Therefore the verse quoted above can be interpreted in two different ways, and this is the point over which the sages of the midrash disagree. Apart from the midrash quoted here, there are other rabbinic midrashim that can be read in both directions; see, for example, the citation above from Midrash Yelamdenu. As we saw above, Rashi here interprets them as actual angels, whereas Maimonides, in his Guide of the Perplexed, Part II, chapter 6, not surprisingly writes that they were flesh-and-blood envoys.

The Difficulties in the Various Midrashim

The midrash cited above offers several considerations meant to support the view that these were actual angels. In some versions, the passage in square brackets in the quotation above appears first: an anonymous consideration that learns from Eliezer, who was “a servant of the house,” and says that all the more so this should apply to Jacob, who was “beloved of the house.” Rabbi Hama argues similarly from Hagar, Sarah’s maidservant, and all the more so Jacob, “beloved of the house.” Rabbi Yosei argues from Joseph, “the least of the tribes,” and all the more so from the father of the tribes.

These midrashim raise several difficulties:

1. Rabbi Yosei’s exposition contains a paradoxical treatment of the hierarchy between Jacob and Joseph. On the one hand, it seems more plausible to him that Jacob encountered angels than that Joseph did, for that very assumption is the basis of the a fortiori inference. On the other hand, precisely in Joseph’s case the text uses the term “a man,” which is more ambiguous than “angel”—a term that, as we have seen, is naturally read literally as referring to heavenly angels. Yet Rabbi Yosei is more certain that Joseph met actual angels than that Jacob did. We should note that in the other two expositions, which depend on servants, Hagar and Eliezer (see Genesis Rabbah 59:10), Scripture itself explicitly states that angels attended them, and therefore the structure of the exposition is easier to understand.

2. Why is it so important to prove that Jacob sent actual angels?

3. Later on, at the Jabbok crossing, Scripture explicitly says that he encountered an angel. Why can we not learn from there?

4. What exactly is the dispute, if any, among the various midrashim?¹

The Background to the Midrash

More than once in the past we have seen that a preliminary examination of the interpretive situation that exists before the midrashic considerations are introduced can shed light on the midrash itself.

At first glance, one can see clearly from the midrash that it prefers to interpret “messengers” as flesh-and-blood envoys rather than actual angels, and therefore it needs arguments in support of the opposite view. This is puzzling, for the straightforward meaning of the word “angels” is heavenly angels, not flesh-and-blood envoys. The best proof of this is that the midrash’s conclusion—that these were heavenly angels—is formulated in the words “actual angels.” If so, when the word “angel” is applied to flesh-and-blood envoys, it functions only figuratively.

To understand this point, one must pay attention to the nature of the midrashic considerations. All of them are intended to show that angels attending Jacob is plausible. From this we learn that the difficulty troubling the author of the midrash was: how could our patriarch Jacob, who was flesh and blood, command and employ heavenly angels?

That rabbinic notion of angels “attending” a person could, at first glance, be understood simply as human interaction with them. But this point appears explicitly at the end of Parashat Vayetze, where Jacob sees the angels of the Land of Israel replacing the angels of outside the Land, and this is explicitly described in Scripture. It therefore seems that “attendance” here means control over and use of angels, not merely interaction with them or encountering them.

If so, when the authors of the midrash read the verse, two opposing considerations stood before them. On the one hand, the word “angel,” in its plain sense, refers to heavenly angels. On the other hand, it is implausible that our patriarch Jacob, a human being formed from dust, would command heavenly angels and send them as his emissaries. Therefore various considerations are introduced, all meant to explain why, in Jacob’s case, it really is a simple matter to command angels, and therefore the verse may be interpreted in its straightforward sense: that actual angels are meant.²

As we already mentioned, Rashi chose the more “mystical” interpretation, whereas Maimonides specifically chose the plain-sense interpretation. In light of the considerations raised in the midrash, Rashi’s approach would seem almost compelled. Why not interpret the verse according to its plain meaning? But we should notice that the various midrashic considerations do not prove that actual angels are meant; they merely offer arguments showing that such an interpretation is possible. Perhaps for that reason the midrash does not even bother to present support for the opposite position, since that position seemed obvious to it in any case.

The Nature of the Kal Va-homer (a fortiori inference) Employed in These Midrashim

One should note another feature that characterizes these midrashim. Several scholars have pointed out that the formulation “all the more so” is characteristic of earlier kal va-homer arguments, although Rabbi Hama is an amora, and therefore this is a relatively late midrash.³ The type of kal va-homer formulated in this language is also very specific.

On the page for Parashat Noah, we saw three kinds of kal va-homer. One is the common kal va-homer in halakhic drash, based on three data points, and plainly a rule-based kal va-homer, that is, part of the formal system of hermeneutical rules. A second type is based on one assumption rather than three, and that assumption is a piece of reasoning, not a general principle formed by generalizing from two particular examples, as in the common kal va-homer. This second type itself splits into two subtypes: one is the kind exemplified by “if there are two hundred, there are certainly one hundred,” which is a necessary syllogistic inference. The reasoning behind it is analytic and necessary. The other is an analogical inference based on ordinary human reasoning, and therefore in principle open to refutation.

The kal va-homer arguments here—and it seems that this is true of all considerations formulated as “all the more so”—plainly belong to the third type, the one based on analogical reasoning.

Two Forms of Reasoning at the Basis of These Midrashic Kal Va-homer Arguments

Above, we identified the general character of the midrashic considerations before us and found that they are kal va-homer arguments based on reasoning. We must now ask: what is that reasoning that lies at their foundation? Presumably, the difference between the various considerations in the midrash derives from a difference in that underlying reasoning.

As a starting point, let us note that in one version of the midrash the consideration learned from Eliezer, Abraham’s servant, does not appear at all. It may be that the reason is that there is already another consideration derived from a servant, namely Hagar. This point leads us to distinguish between two kinds of considerations that appear in these midrashim: the relationship of sons and the relationship of servants. Both kinds of relationship are familiar in rabbinic literature and even appear in the Rosh Hashanah prayers—”whether as sons or as servants.” Usually, however, they express Israel’s relationship to its God. Here they express different relations to our patriarch Abraham, “the house.” There are here “servants of the house” and “sons, or grandsons, of the house.”

It seems very likely that these two types are reflected in two different kinds of considerations by which the possibility of angels attending Jacob is inferred. The arguments from Hagar and Eliezer operate on the plane of closeness to the “house.” The intention is apparently the house of Abraham—this is explicit in the case of Eliezer—who was Jacob’s grandfather. The assumption is that servants are less close to their master than his grandson is. By contrast, at the center of the line of affiliation underlying the argument from Joseph stand the tribes, not Abraham. Everything is measured in relation to them: Joseph is the lesser among them, whereas Jacob is their father.

The consideration learned from Joseph can be understood in two ways:

1. Here too, the basis is closeness to Abraham. On this understanding, the tribes are not really the center of comparison; they are merely an index of closeness to Abraham. According to this approach, Jacob is closer to Abraham than Joseph his son, who is the least among the tribes.

2. More plausibly, the tribes really do stand at the center of the picture, and everything is measured in relation to them.

Whereas in the first consideration the basis is closeness to our patriarch Abraham, here the criterion seems to be closeness to the collective of Israel, since the tribes are the first expression of the Jewish collective. Jacob is the father who begets the collective of Israel, whereas Joseph is only one part of that collective, indeed the least among them.

These two kinds of considerations can be understood as expressing a difference of rank—that whoever is closer to Abraham or to the collective of Israel possesses a higher spiritual level. They can also be understood as a difference of lineage that grants privileged rights. In the second argument, from Joseph, the first possibility, which reads it as indirect closeness to Abraham, places that argument on the same plane as the arguments from the servants, Eliezer and Hagar. The possibility that ties everything to closeness to the tribes highlights lineage with greater force, since closeness to the collective of Israel, which has not yet fully come into existence, is naturally a criterion of pedigree.⁴

If so, these two kinds of considerations reflect two kinds of reasoning regarding a person’s entitlement to interaction with and use of angels. One entitlement is based on closeness to the house of Abraham—”beloved of the house”—which may express a difference of rank. The other is based on closeness to the collective of Israel, and apparently rests on preferred status as such, that is, lineage. One is closeness to the root, and the other is closeness to that root’s final purpose.

Returning to the Difficulties in the Midrash

Perhaps from here we can return and understand the difficulties in the midrash presented above. We have seen that the authors of the midrash were troubled by the fact that Jacob, being flesh and blood, did not seem able to make use of heavenly angels, who by nature are the emissaries of heaven. That is the starting point of the midrash.

This can perhaps be sharpened if we notice that the struggle between Jacob and Esau began with a chain of events in which Jacob is portrayed in a problematic light. He deceives Esau, and afterward Isaac as well. In the end he flees from Esau so that Esau will not take revenge on him—a revenge that appears, at least on the face of it, justified. Even during the period of flight itself, when he works for Laban, he appears to deceive Laban through the speckled sheep. And now the moment arrives when Esau is about to take revenge on his deceitful brother. The reader’s sympathy—especially if that reader is not nourished by rabbinic midrashim, which constantly labor to balance the picture—is naturally with Esau. Jacob appears opportunistic, and the approaching struggle may seem likely to restore “justice” to its proper place.

As we have already noted, it is precisely at this point that the present midrash begins. The authors of the midrash want to show that Jacob is still beloved of the Omnipresent. He is still close to the “house,” and he is still the one destined to create the collective of Israel. All his “base” actions were done for this end.⁵ In our opinion, on the level of principle, the purpose of the midrash is not to examine the neutral and innocent interpretive question whether these emissaries were angels or human beings. That point is not really important in itself. In this context, it serves as a significant indication of Jacob’s standing before his Father in heaven, and that is the point the midrash wishes to clarify. The background to the midrash lies in an implicit doubt about the spiritual standing of our patriarch Jacob, a doubt that is presented as uncertainty about his ability to make use of heavenly angels.

Solving the Difficulties

The midrash proves, by means of kal va-homer arguments, that Jacob’s spiritual standing does indeed permit this. The disagreement among the various views in the midrash revolves around the question of why, despite all that he did, his standing is still of that kind. Rabbi Hama argues that it is because of his closeness to Abraham—whether spiritual rank, or proximity to source and root. Rabbi Yosei argues that it is because through these very acts he is establishing the collective of Israel, which is God’s own very purpose.

These explanations can be understood as claiming that Jacob’s actions were justified, in which case the focus is on his spiritual level. But they can also be understood as saying that even if the actions were not justified, they were done for a good purpose—and under prophetic-divine guidance—for the sake of creating the collective of Israel. One might perhaps say that the actions were not worthy, but lineage and the merit of the patriarchs still stand in his favor. Rabbinic midrashim elsewhere, and later commentators following them, present all these alternatives.

That is why it was so important to the authors of this midrash to show that these were actual angels. It may be that the tanna who disagrees and holds that they were flesh-and-blood envoys does not accept the conclusion that Jacob’s standing truly remained intact.⁶

According to this, the proof from the Jabbok crossing is irrelevant, since there Scripture explicitly states that Jacob met an angel, whereas the purpose of the midrash was specifically to bring out the considerations that underlie the proof. Those considerations are the main point of the present midrash, because they are what underscore Jacob’s spiritual standing. The fact that Jacob makes use of angels, in and of itself, does not sharpen that point sufficiently. Therefore the authors of the midrash choose specifically an ambiguous passage and prove that there too heavenly angels are intended.

The present midrash tries to establish this point even before the struggle between Jacob and Esau begins. At the Jabbok crossing, immediately before the struggle that will take place after dawn, Jacob continues to act on the “angelic” plane. But there Jacob wrestles with an angel; he does not use him. On the contrary, that episode might suggest that it is specifically Esau who is entitled to the services of an angel, and that he is the “righteous” one, perhaps even the one who is in the right. Therefore the present midrash also serves as a necessary introduction to understanding that passage and approaching it properly. We now understand that at the Jabbok crossing Jacob overcomes an angel, and does not merely make use of one. There is here a progression beyond the mere use of angels.

The case of the Jabbok crossing also helps us understand the first difficulty. There the verse uses the term “a man,” and an angel is not mentioned. The understanding that an angel is meant arises from viewing the struggle as an overcoming of “God.” With Joseph too the expression is “a man,” and it is quite possible that there is here an implicit gezerah shavah (verbal analogy). That is why, in the eyes of the sages, it was clearer there that an actual angel was involved. Beyond that, the fact that the sages take Joseph’s encounter for granted while wondering about Jacob’s encounter is rooted in their desire to present Jacob’s superiority. On the other hand, as we explained here, the difficulty in Jacob’s commanding angels does not stem from his intrinsic stature, but from the situation created after his acts of “deception.” In his essence, Jacob stands on a higher level than Joseph, both in his lineage to Abraham and in relation to the collective of Israel.

A Reversed Midrash

From all that has been said so far, an interesting claim emerges. The midrashim before us are not meant to resolve an interpretive question. Their aim is not the conclusion of the midrash, but precisely the considerations that lead to it. The midrashic argument itself is the tool by which Jacob’s standing is described, and the question discussed by the midrash is only an instrument used by the expositor to clarify that point.

This is a reversed midrash. Usually, a midrash is meant to resolve a particular question, and the midrashic considerations are the means that help us do so. Here, however, the situation is exactly the reverse. The purpose of the midrash is precisely the considerations and the reasoning, while the question under discussion is only a means of presenting the considerations that solve it. This proposal is highly novel, and below we shall examine it also in connection with halakhic midrashim.

The Character of the Inference “All the More So”

This fact is connected to the fact that the sages here use specifically the hermeneutic of kal va-homer, and specifically the third type: a kal va-homer based on one datum and on reasoning. As we saw on the page for Parashat Noah, an ordinary rule-based kal va-homer is an analogy, not a logical syllogism. It teaches us something we did not know in advance, by means of generalization. By contrast, the kal va-homer of “if there are two hundred, there are certainly one hundred” teaches us nothing at all that is new. It uncovers a fact hidden within a known fact, but contains no substantive novelty. There we were uncertain about the precise nature of the third type of kal va-homer.

At first glance, a kal va-homer of the “all the more so” type is expansive—synthetic rather than analytic, in Kantian terminology. Its conclusions are not truly hidden in its premises; rather, they express something that extends beyond them. The term “expansive” is to be understood here as we explained on the page for Parashat Hayyei Sarah, part II. But in our case, the tool of this expansion is reasoning, and that reasoning itself certainly already existed beforehand. It is not the result of the kal va-homer; it is its point of departure. We saw on the page for Parashat Noah that all expositions are in fact analytic expansions; see also the end of the page for Parashat Lekh Lekha.

Here, however, we encounter a different phenomenon. At first glance, this is indeed an “expansive” kal va-homer. But its purpose is not its conclusion; its purpose is the instrument of reasoning, and that already existed beforehand. If so, it is nothing more than an explicit expression of insights that were already hidden in the expositor before the exposition began.

One might say that the midrash is merely a way for the expositor to express a known principle by means of a more interesting and more complex literary device. Instead of saying, “Our patriarch Jacob is of a high spiritual level,” or “our patriarch Jacob did not sin,” or “anyone who says that our patriarch Jacob sinned is simply mistaken,” the expositor hides the point inside a more complex midrashic procedure and leaves us to decipher his intention.

One of the clues that helps us decipher the purpose of the midrash is the fact that what appears here is not an ordinary rule-based kal va-homer, but a kal va-homer of the third type. The terminological clue lies in the expression “all the more so,” which characterizes this kind of consideration. As we saw above, an argument phrased in this way generally expresses an implicit piece of reasoning. Therefore one may suggest that presenting a consideration of this kind can often be suspected of being a sophisticated literary form for expressing some implicit reasoning, rather than, as it appears on the surface, a mere attempt to apply that reasoning to a particular case.

Creative and Supportive Expositions

On the page for Parashat Hayyei Sarah, at the beginning of part II, we noted that there are two types of rabbinic exposition: creative and supportive. Creative expositions are an interpretive mechanism whose purpose is to produce a new halakha (Jewish law) through a process of halakhic drash. By contrast, supportive expositions aim to anchor a known halakha in Scripture by means of an interpretive process.

As we saw on the page for Parashat Bereshit, there are even approaches—probably not borne out by empirical examination, such as that of Gersonides—that maintain that all expositions are supportive, because of the vague and esoteric character of many of them. But there is also a serious a priori problem with the very claim that supportive expositions exist: what is the point of anchoring existing laws in Scripture, especially in such unconvincing ways? The law is already known, and therefore the exposition seemingly adds nothing.

For example, regarding gezerah shavah, several commentators have written—see Encyclopedia Talmudit, entry “Gezerah Shavah”—that there are cases in which a certain law has been received by tradition, but its source is unknown. In such cases the sages look for an interpretive consideration that will support the law under discussion, and they construct a gezerah shavah. One should note that even in these types of halakhic exposition, the goal is the consideration rather than the law derived from it.

There are cases in which one can propose a solution to this difficulty by pointing to various consequences of the fact that the anchor for a known law lies in one verse rather than another. For example, once that verse has been used for this exposition, no additional exposition can be derived from it. Or alternatively, from that same context one may learn additional details, not yet known to us, that pertain to the same law.

It is interesting to note that in such cases the purpose of the exposition is the interpretive reasoning rather than the halakhic conclusion. On the present page we have proposed a parallel scheme with respect to aggadic midrash: sometimes the purpose of the midrash is not at all to clarify the question under discussion—or the law, in the case of halakhic midrashim. The purpose of the midrash is to express, by means of a more sophisticated and complex literary instrument, an idea that lies in the considerations of reasoning used in the interpretive process. In our terminology, one may say that this is a “supportive” aggadic midrash, and not a “creative” one.

Footnotes