חדש באתר: NotebookLM עם כל תכני הרב מיכאל אברהם

Vayigash (5764)

Back to list  |  ℹ About
This is an AI-generated English translation of a weekly essay from Mida Tova: Articles on the Hermeneutical Principles (מידה טובה — מאמרים על מידות הדרש) by Rabbi Michael Avraham. Translated by OpenAI’s GPT-5.4 model with high reasoning effort.

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).


With God’s help

Mida Tova — Eve of the Holy Sabbath, Parashat Vayigash, 5765

A. Jacob and His Sons

“And these are the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt, Jacob and his sons: Reuben, Jacob’s firstborn.”

— Genesis 46:8

‘The sons of Israel’ — Jacob is called ‘Israel,’ as it is written: ‘Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel.’ Isaac is called ‘Israel’: ‘And these are the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt, Jacob and his sons.’ Abraham is called ‘Israel’…”

— Genesis Rabbah 63

‘Jacob and his sons’ — Scripture compares Jacob to his sons: just as Jacob was righteous and fearful of sin, so too his sons were righteous and fearful of sin. Another interpretation: just as Jacob was one of the Patriarchs, so too his sons were [of patriarchal stature].”

“Rabbi Samuel bar Nahmani said: From where do we know that Scripture weighed them against the Patriarchs of the world? As it is said: ‘Your fathers went down to Egypt as seventy persons.’ This teaches that the deeds of the tribes are equivalent to those of the Patriarchs of the world, as it is said: ‘In place of your fathers shall be your sons.'”

“Another interpretation: ‘Jacob and his sons‘ — just as Jacob was married, so too all his sons were married. Even Palu and Hezron, one of whom was one year old and the other two years old, wives were arranged for them, as it is written: ‘Each man came with his household,’ so that they would not intermingle in Egypt.”

— Midrash Ha-Gadol, cited in Torah Shelemah, §52

Two midrashim: two ways of reading the verse

The verse cited above describes Jacob and his sons descending to Egypt. Its structure is strange, and in fact ambiguous. On the one hand, the words “Jacob and his sons” can belong to what follows them, that is, they can be read as a heading for the beginning of the enumeration of the sons. According to this interpretation, we should read the verse as follows: “And these are the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt: Jacob, and his sons: Reuben, Jacob’s firstborn…” Yet this is not a plausible reading, since Jacob certainly does not belong among the “sons of Israel.”

On the other hand, perhaps precisely for that reason, these two words should be attached to what precedes, and the enumeration of the sons begins only afterward. According to this interpretation, the verse should be read as follows: “And these are the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt (Jacob and his sons): Reuben, Jacob’s firstborn…” Here Jacob is indeed not counted among the “sons of Israel,” but a new problem arises: what is the role of the words “Jacob and his sons”? Apparently they are taken as a parenthetical remark, teaching us that those descending to Egypt who are about to be counted, namely Jacob’s sons, did not descend alone. Jacob too descended with them.

The first midrash (rabbinic interpretation) cited above apparently fits the first reading. The author of the midrash sees the verse as referring to Jacob as belonging to the “sons of Israel,” and from this infers that Isaac too is called “Israel.” This sharpens a point that the Maharal emphasizes in several places: from the moment of the descent to Egypt, the name “Israel” is no longer the name of an individual but the name of a people, obviously derived from the name of their forefather. It is therefore important for him to note that it now becomes clear retroactively that the name “Israel” characterizes Abraham and Isaac as well, who planted the roots of that people, and not Jacob alone. According to this, “Israel” is not the name of an individual even when the midrash applies it to Abraham and Isaac. Abraham and Isaac are the beginning of the nation whose name is Israel.

According to the second reading, the words “Jacob and his sons” are apparently only a parenthetical remark. It is not entirely clear why it is important to tell us that Jacob’s sons did not go down alone and that Jacob also went down with them. Perhaps the second midrash offers an explanation for this point: these words appear here in order to compare Jacob to his sons. As for the conclusions drawn from that hekesh (an inference based on juxtaposition or analogy), the sages of the midrash disagree, and we will address this below.

The second midrash

In the page on Parashat Miketz, we learned that in many midrashim there are certain components that were received through tradition and other components that were added by the individual authors of the midrash. There are various indications that help us isolate these two kinds of components, and the structure of clusters of interpretations is especially helpful here. As we saw there, in a cluster of interpretations it is reasonable to assume that the elements common to all the interpretations in the cluster constitute the dimension received by tradition, whereas the rest is probably the addition of the expositor. Let us try to apply that here.

In this cluster we find three different interpretations. In all of them, Jacob is compared to his sons. In every case Jacob is the source from which the comparison is learned, and the sons are the target to which it is applied.1 The conclusions derived from the midrash — all of them aggadic, not legal — vary from one expositor to another: either they learn something about righteousness and fear of sin, or about belonging to the rank of the Patriarchs, or about the fact that all of them were married — or, alternatively, that they were prepared to settle in Egypt and to guard themselves against the possibility of assimilation there.

In this case, it is reasonable to assume that what was received by tradition was the very fact that there is a hekesh between Jacob and his sons, whereas the conclusions were left to the discretion of the individual expositors. All the conclusions are positive, and it is possible that this too was received by tradition. Still, it seems that no tradition is necessarily required here, for such a conclusion is only natural. It is unlikely — and there is no hint of this in the text — that the verse wishes to emphasize some defect in the brothers, especially if the source of comparison is Jacob, the choicest of the Patriarchs. Once an expositor is given the datum that the Torah equates the sons with their father Jacob, he immediately looks for positive qualities that Jacob possessed and that passed on to his sons.

How does the expositor arrive at the particular characterization derived from the hekesh? Here, without question, the varying reasonings of the expositors enter in, or else textual considerations. This component does not belong to the formal and universal dimension of the interpretation.

The reasons for the hekesh

Above, we noted that if all the expositors compare Jacob to his sons, then they probably all had some datum that led them to do so. Our proposal was based on tradition, which established that there is a hekesh here between Jacob and the sons. But another possibility certainly exists here as well.

Let us return to the first section above, where we pointed out that the authors of the second midrash probably read the verse in the second way, namely, that “Jacob and his sons” is inserted as a parenthetical remark. The author of the midrash now asks himself why such a remark appears here. Why was it important for the Torah to stress that Jacob descended together with his sons? A natural solution to this question is the conclusion that this phrase was intended to compare the sons with their father.

This yields a different proposal regarding the source of the datum that there is a hekesh here between Jacob and his sons. The source may not be tradition, but rather a local textual consideration.2 If so, non-formal and local considerations enter not only in determining the conclusion of the derivation and its content, but even in the very decision that some sort of interpretive move must be made here. After that decision comes the formal schema, one of the hermeneutical principles by means of which we interpret.

To this we should add the fact that, as we saw in the page on Parashat Miketz, there are medieval authorities who hold that only gezerah shavah (a verbal analogy based on identical wording) is received by tradition, whereas the other hermeneutical principles are not. See, for example, Tosafot, s.v. “ve-Rabbi Yehudah,” Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 31a.3 According to these authorities, if we see a midrash using some other principle, we immediately conclude that the source for the need to interpret something here is not tradition but a textual consideration. Tradition is given only with respect to gezerah shavah, which is exceptional among the other principles, since a person does not derive it on his own. But with the other principles, a person does derive on his own, and therefore no traditions are needed with respect to them. Such a consideration greatly sharpens the need to find additional mechanisms that can serve as the source for our obligation to interpret a given passage.

Identifying the hermeneutical principle

How does the expositor determine which principle to use? If the source is tradition, then sometimes the tradition also tells us which principle is to be used for that interpretation. This was the example in Parashat Miketz, and that is especially plausible with respect to gezerah shavah, for the reason explained above. But with most principles, the textual consideration is probably what determines the matter. In that case, we must ask ourselves what conclusions follow from that consideration. For example, if there is one superfluous word, and another superfluous word elsewhere, we may infer that we should perform a gezerah shavah between them. In other cases, we infer the use of a kal va-homer (an a fortiori inference), and so forth.

In our midrash, what seems superfluous is a pair of words that form something like a list, or a sub-list — the two readings above determine whether this is an independent list or a sub-list within the larger list of the “sons of Israel”: “Jacob and his sons.” What hermeneutical principle is relevant for lists of this sort, especially for lists consisting of only two items? As can be seen from an examination of rabbinic literature, this is usually hekesh. It should be noted that concerning hekesh itself, Rashi and Tosafot in Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 31a disagree over whether one may derive it on one’s own. According to Rashi, who holds that one may not, it is reasonable to assume that the compulsion to make a hekesh here derives from tradition. According to Tosafot, who hold that hekesh — and likewise the other principles, apart from gezerah shavah — is something a person derives on his own, it is more reasonable that the compulsion here is a textual consideration.4 See further below.

B. What Is a Hekesh?5

Introduction: hekesh as a hermeneutical principle

The interpretive tool called hekesh is rather obscure. It is not entirely clear what exactly is meant by it, or when it is to be applied. It is fairly clear that in certain places in the Talmud and among the medieval authorities, the expression “hekesh” denotes a different principle, or comparative interpretation in general. In its appearances in rabbinic literature as a distinct principle, it usually expresses a comparison between two things that were written adjacent to one another.

In the list of principles in the baraita of Rabbi Ishmael, it does not appear at all — at least not under the name “hekesh.” In the list of the thirty-two principles of Rabbi Eliezer son of Rabbi Yose the Galilean, one likewise does not find a principle by this name.6 Yet in the Talmud it appears as though it were a well-defined principle, and it is discussed in quite a number of contexts — for example, whether it is stronger or weaker than other principles when there is a conflict between hekesh and gezerah shavah, and the like. Rabbi Samson, in Sefer Keritut (“Batei Middot,” section 2, no. 13), explains that hekesh was not counted among the lists of principles because it is considered as though it were explicitly written in the verse. On the meaning of this explanation, see the page on Parashat Miketz.

“Hekesh”: the term and the principle

As for the meaning of the term “hekesh,” some understood it as comparison and resemblance, while others interpreted it in the sense of striking or knocking one thing against another. When two things are written adjacent to one another, they, as it were, “knock” against one another. Several commentators wrote that the two explanations amount to the same thing.7 Yet there is certainly room to distinguish between them. According to the first explanation, we look at the two items from the general framework in which they appear: because both are counted in the same list, they must have something in common. This is an approach that draws conclusions from the broader framework, namely the list that includes them. But according to the second explanation, the conclusion does not arise from their appearance in a list, but from the very fact that they “knock” against one another — that is, that they are adjacent. Below we will point to a possible implication of these explanations.

In practice, we find that hekesh is a kind of gezerah shavah, and indeed there are several places in rabbinic literature where the term “hekesh” expresses gezerah shavah. The difference between them is that the textual factor generating the comparison between the two contexts is different. In gezerah shavah, the comparison is made because of the appearance of the same word; in hekesh, it is made because both items appear in the same verse. With regard to gezerah shavah, we saw that the textual similarity serves only as an indicator that prompts the expositor to seek an essential similarity.8 It is very plausible that the same is true of hekesh: adjacency awakens an essential similarity, and that is what underlies the conclusions of the hekesh.

One does not refute a hekesh

We have already noted that the medieval authorities disagree regarding hekesh: whether a person derives it on his own, as Tosafot say in Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 31a, mentioned above, or not, as Rashi says there. The Gemara states that derivation from hekesh has great force: “One does not refute a hekesh” (Babylonian Talmud, Menachot 82b). Rashi, in the Menachot passage there, explains this by saying that hekesh, like gezerah shavah, was received through tradition from Sinai.9 According to Tosafot, as we saw, hekesh is derived by the sages themselves, and therefore the rule that one does not refute a hekesh is probably based on the fact that hekesh is a very strong and necessary principle.10

Two kinds of hekesh

The author of Havot Ya’ir, responsum 203 — and likewise in his book Mar Kashisha, in the edition mentioned above, p. 69 — enumerates many kinds of hekesh. He already noted that in the Talmud there are two basic kinds of hekesh: one essential, based on some superfluity or difficulty, that is, a textual compulsion; and the second based on adjacency alone, which serves to ground a known halakha (Jewish law).11 It is possible that certain characteristics of hekesh are relevant only to one of these two kinds and not the other. See there regarding the rule “one does not refute a hekesh,” which in his view applies only to the first kind.

The way the two kinds appear in rabbinic literature

In fact, the word hekesh itself, as the name of a hermeneutical principle, appears only in the Talmudic discussions themselves. In tannaitic sources, hekesh appears as a verb — “to compare,” “he compared,” “compares” — and not as a noun, that is, “hekesh.”12 When one examines the expressions in which it appears as a verb, one finds two common formulations, perhaps the most common ones, which appear in different structures and apparently express different schemas of hekesh:

  1. With the wording “compares.” For example, in our midrash above: “It compares Jacob to his sons. Just as Jacob … so too his sons…”

Additional examples of this structure can be found in hundreds of places, and as far as we have checked, all of them share the same structure. For example, in Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 5a, regarding betrothal by document:

Scripture says (Deuteronomy 24): “And she departs … and becomes [another man’s wife]” — it compares becoming to departing: just as departing is by document, so too becoming is also by document.

In all these examples, two items appear within a biblical list, and by force of adjacency alone, without any mention of a specific reason, the sages decide to compare them to one another.

  1. With the wording “to compare.” For example, the Tosefta, Bava Kamma (Lieberman edition), chapter 6, halakha 18:

Rabbi Yose said in the name of Rabbi Ishmael: In the first version of the Ten Commandments it says, “You, and your son and your daughter, and your slave [and your maidservant], and your beast”; in the latter version it says, “You, and your son and your daughter, and your ox and your donkey and all your beast.” Ox and donkey were included in the category already, so why were they singled out? To compare [the rest] to them: just as the ox and donkey mentioned with respect to the Sabbath render all other domesticated animals, wild animals, and birds equivalent to ox and donkey, so too the ox and donkey mentioned with respect to every other matter render all other domesticated animals, wild animals, and birds equivalent to ox and donkey.

Another example appears in Babylonian Talmud, Yoma 32a:

The verse says: “And Aaron shall come into the Tent of Meeting and remove the linen garments that he had put on.” What need is there for the words “that he had put on”? Does a person remove anything other than what he had put on? Rather, it comes to compare removing to putting on: just as putting on requires sanctification, so too removing requires sanctification.

In both these examples, the hekesh is of a different kind from that in the first category. First, it does not always involve a list — see the second hekesh here, and so too in many other examples. Second, in all examples of this type, some difficulty is presented as the reason for the hekesh. In the first example, it was the change between the first and later versions of the Ten Commandments. In the second, it was the superfluous mention of the putting-on in the verse.

The conclusion is that these two forms of expression reflect two different kinds of hekesh. When there is a difficulty, the sages say: “Scripture came only to compare.” That is, the comparison is a conclusion drawn from a difficulty. When there is no difficulty, the hekesh is made solely by force of adjacency, and then the formulation is: “It compares A to B…” These are the two kinds mentioned by Havot Ya’ir.13

C. Back to Our Interpretation: The Hekesh Between Jacob and His Sons

Classifying our hekesh

In light of what we have now learned, let us return and examine our midrash once again. We see that the sages of the midrash disagree over what exactly is to be derived from the hekesh. Yet all of them rely on the opening formula: “It compares Jacob to his sons: just as Jacob … so too his sons…” Such a formulation indicates that this is a hekesh of the first kind. This conclusion is reinforced by the fact that no difficulty is presented here as the background for the hekesh. Beyond that, Jacob and his sons are part of a list, and that too is characteristic of the first kind of hekesh, though not uniquely so.14

But above we raised the possibility that the authors of the midrash did see the difficulty presented at the beginning of the page — namely, that it is not clear what role the words “Jacob and his sons” play in the verse. Perhaps it was precisely because of that difficulty that they arrived at the need for a hekesh, even though the difficulty is not mentioned explicitly in their words.

If so, we can arrive at one of two conclusions:

  1. We are dealing here with a third kind of midrash: the wording is that of a first-type hekesh, and no difficulty is stated explicitly, yet in fact this is a hekesh that is based on a difficulty.

  2. This is indeed a first-type midrash, and in fact there is no difficulty in the background at all. The reason is that the authors of the midrash read the verse in the first way that we presented above. As we saw there, if one reads the verse in that way, there is no difficulty requiring us to arrive at a hekesh.

Consequences

What difference follows from this?15 Let us take Rashi’s explanation in Sukkah above. A hekesh whose basis is a difficulty is a hekesh to which we arrive through reasoning, because of the difficulty, and not because of a tradition that we received. If so, it can be refuted. By contrast, a hekesh that is not derived from a difficulty is probably a hekesh that we received through tradition. With respect to such a hekesh, the principle “one does not refute a hekesh” applies.

According to Tosafot in Sukkah, however, and according to the author of Halikhot Olam, who hold that the rule that one does not refute a hekesh derives from the textual or logical necessity of the hekesh, the situation is reversed. If the hekesh arises specifically from a difficulty, then one does not refute it, because it is necessary. But if no difficulty leads to the hekesh, then it may certainly be refuted. As we mentioned above, this is indeed what the author of Havot Ya’ir wrote: the type of hekesh that does not arise from a difficulty may be refuted. He apparently assumes the view of Tosafot.

The various rationales of the authors of the midrash

The last point we will address is the conclusions drawn by the authors of the midrash from this hekesh — that is, the specific, non-formal, and non-universal part of the hekesh.

First, we must ask whether these different opinions actually disagree with one another. This is not entirely clear from the language of the midrash. The formulation “another interpretation” somewhat suggests that there is no disagreement here. Indeed, the anonymity of the speakers, and the fact that each opinion is introduced by the words “another interpretation,” point to the possibility that all of these are simply alternative possibilities raised by the same expositor.

As for the rationales behind the different opinions: the last opinion, which infers that they were married, does bring a rationale for its conclusion. The rationale is based on the verse “Each man came with his household” (Exodus 1:1). But here the question arises: what does the hekesh add to what we already know from that verse?16

The second opinion is presented without explanation, but immediately after it comes the statement of Rabbi Samuel bar Nahmani, and this may be understood as a rationale for the proposal of the author of that interpretation. Otherwise it is not clear why it was brought in a way that interrupts the sequence of opinions in the midrash. According to this, again we must ask what novelty this hekesh adds. Yet here the rationale is brought by another sage, and perhaps this is an alternative interpretive proposal that supports the same conclusion, not a rationale for the expositor’s own hekesh.17

The first opinion in the midrash brings no rationale at all. Perhaps the reason is that this opinion reflects the most natural conclusion to emerge from the hekesh.18 We saw above the a priori reason why this hekesh should redound to the sons’ credit. If so, the first opinion is merely a particular formulation of that general conclusion, and therefore it does not need a rationale. The other two opinions add further novelties, beyond the mere positive evaluation of the sons, and therefore they require support.

Footnotes

In practice, Rashi’s view would imply that almost all the principles are supportive rather than creative, something that greatly reduces the importance of the principles. But we have already seen that the dichotomous division between creative and supportive principles is problematic. Even in gezerah shavah there are components that come by tradition and components that are added by the expositor. If so, it is plausible that this is true of all the principles.

Therefore, it seems that according to Rashi we reach the conclusion that there is something stronger about hekesh. It may be that in hekesh the full information is always transmitted, and it is indeed always merely supportive. The other principles are divided into two components as we explained, whereas kal va-homer is derived entirely by the expositor; it is always creative.

Other possibilities may also be suggested for distinguishing among the principles according to Rashi. For example, in hekesh the principle itself may always be transmitted, while the halakha derived from it is sometimes not. In that case, one may not challenge the fact that there is a hekesh between the contexts, though one may certainly contest the halakha. By contrast, in other principles the halakhot may be transmitted while the principles themselves are left to our determination, and there the interpretation may be challenged.

But this proposal sharpens the problem raised earlier, because the difficulty is not presented in the exposition at all. According to what we are now saying, the entire purpose of the exposition was to find a solution to that difficulty. It is further problematic that it still remains unclear why the Torah writes the words “Jacob and his sons,” since the fact that they were all married was already learned from the verse in Exodus.


  1. See Tosafot, s.v. “sad a,” Babylonian Talmud, Pesachim 43b, in the name of Rabbenu Yitzhak, who wrote that every hekesh is structured this way: from the first item to the second. However, in Mar Kashisha, Machon Yerushalayim edition, 1993, p. 69, this was questioned. 

  2. Of course, it is entirely possible that once, in some generation, such a difficulty arose, and it was resolved by means of a hekesh, and now the hekesh itself is transmitted through tradition. We are not entering into more complex processes here, since they involve no essential innovation. 

  3. It is not entirely clear whether this applies to aggadic interpretations as well, or only to legal midrashim. 

  4. We already noted above that with regard to aggadic midrashim it is not clear that this dispute remains in force. In any case, it is more plausible that in aggadic midrashim the interpretation is more creative, and therefore the possible shift would be in the direction that even according to Rashi, here the hekesh is the result of a textual consideration and not of tradition. The assumption that tradition is the basis is less plausible in aggadic exposition. 

  5. See Encyclopedia Talmudit, s.v. “Hekesh.” 

  6. See Encyclopedia Talmudit, around notes 20-23, where the possibility is raised — though somewhat forced — that hekesh is included in the list of Rabbi Eliezer son of Rabbi Yose the Galilean. See also Sefer Keritut, “Batei Middot,” section 2, chapter 14, which proposes including it among the thirteen principles as well. 

  7. See Arukh Ha-Shalem, s.v. “Hekesh,” and Tiferet Yisrael on Mishnah Makkot 1:7. 

  8. See around note 8 in the page on Parashat Lech-Lecha. 

  9. According to Rashi in the Sukkah passage mentioned above, all the principles are of this sort except kal va-homer. If so, it would seem that in his view none of them may be refuted except kal va-homer. This is a puzzling assertion, for we find objections raised to quite a few other hermeneutical principles. 

  10. This is what the author of Halikhot Olam writes in gate 4, chapter 2, and elsewhere. See also the discussion in the page on Parashat Lech-Lecha, part 1, in the section “Between Kal Va-Homer and Gezerah Shavah.” 

  11. He calls it asmachta (a scriptural support or allusion). Sometimes this is in the sense of a rabbinic law, and sometimes in the sense of a supportive exposition for a Torah law. As for his actual assertion that any hekesh without a compulsion is not a full hekesh, one can find other approaches among the medieval authorities. See Encyclopedia Talmudit there, note 26. 

  12. See Encyclopedia Talmudit there, note 9. 

  13. It should be noted that the hekesh of the first type — “and she departs … and becomes” — leads to a Torah law, even though it is not the result of any difficulty. There are many more such cases. This proves that when the author of Havot Ya’ir spoke of this type of hekesh as an asmachta, he did not mean a rabbinic law, but rather a supportive exposition for a Torah law. And that is precisely the conclusion we reached above. 

  14. Above we noted that every hekesh of the first type is made on items from within a list. However, there are also hekeshim of the second type that are made on items drawn from lists, except that there this is not characteristic of all hekeshim. 

  15. For the sake of illustration, we assume here that there is no difference between aggadic midrashim such as ours and legal midrashim. We noted this above. 

  16. One might understand this as a hint that this hekesh is nevertheless an asmachta. According to this, it may perhaps be understood that we are dealing here with a hekesh that comes to solve a difficulty — namely, the meaning of the words “Jacob and his sons” — and not to teach us a new conclusion. This possibility returns us to the first way we suggested at the beginning of the page for understanding the view of the author of this midrash. 

  17. From the wording it appears that a somewhat different principle is involved. But then it truly remains unclear why the exposition of Rabbi Samuel bar Nahmani is brought here in an associative way. 

  18. It would be interesting to examine the suggestion that in every cluster of midrashim, the first opinion is the simplest one, and the one that arises most naturally from the biblical text itself. 

Back to top button