Do We Learn Moral Values from the Torah? (Column 685)
With God’s help
Disclaimer: This post was translated from Hebrew using AI (ChatGPT 5 Thinking), so there may be inaccuracies or nuances lost. If something seems unclear, please refer to the Hebrew original or contact us for clarification.
In several past columns I addressed the question of the relationship between halakha and morality. The claim was that morality is the will of God, but it constitutes a category separate from halakha. God’s will is composed of these two components: halakha and morality. See, for example, column 541. This gives rise to the question: from where do we learn morality? First, we have the conscience imprinted within us that guides our moral decisions. Second, the Torah itself contains non-legal parts, and the common view is that, among other things, they are meant to teach us moral values.
In column 621 I discussed the division of the Torah into these two categories, and argued that morality, by definition, is universal. I claimed there that there is no such thing as “Jewish morality.” Still, even if morality is universal, in principle one could learn it from the Torah. Moreover, it seems that historically the Torah indeed served as a primary source that influenced moral conceptions in the West (also through Christianity). Is that still the case today? Can we, today, learn morality from the Torah? Do we in fact do so? The same question arises with regard to the aggadot of Ḥazal. In columns 214, 285, 398, and many more, I argued that we do not really learn moral values from the non-legal parts of the Torah, nor from the aggadot. Even when one of us “finds” some moral value, it is always a value that fits one’s prior conceptions. When there is a mismatch between what we find in the Torah and moral values, this becomes a Torah-and-morality question, and we always seek some reconciliation so that the passage will align with the moral values. In other words, the source of moral values is not the Torah; the opposite is the case: the source is within us, and we adapt the Torah to our values.
Let me sharpen this further. If we saw the Torah as a source that teaches us moral values, then when we believe in value X and extract from some biblical passage the conclusion “not-X,” we ought to change our prior values and adopt what we found in the Torah. The conclusion should be that we were mistaken and that value X is unworthy. But in practice, when people approach an aggadic topic or a biblical passage, at most they load onto it their moral beliefs and then interpret it (sometimes forcedly) so that it accords with them. The upshot is that we always learn morality from our conscience, and only retroactively fit the Torah to it. The Torah is not a source for learning moral values.
In this week’s parashah there is an excellent example of this claim, and therefore I found it appropriate to revisit this much-beaten topic.
Introduction: The Non-Legal Parts of the Torah as a Source for Moral Values
In column 621 I cited Rashi’s very first comment on the Torah, which brings R. Yitzḥak’s question:
“Bereishit — R. Yitzḥak said: The Torah should have begun only from (Exodus 12:2) ‘This month shall be for you,’ which is the first commandment given to Israel. So why does it begin with ‘In the beginning’?”
It is not for nothing that Rashi chose to preface his entire exegetical enterprise with precisely this question. The principal lesson that emerges from it is actually the assumption embedded in the question, not the answer. R. Yitzḥak assumes that the first one and a quarter ḥumashim are superfluous and that their appearance in the Torah requires explanation. The reason is that with the section “This month shall be for you” the legal part of the Torah begins. Rashi himself explains: “for it is the first commandment given to Israel.” That is, R. Yitzḥak assumes that the Torah, in its essence, was meant to include only commandments (halakha). “Torah” is from “hora’ah” (instruction); its core is law. Everything beyond that is not self-evident and needs justification.
If we move to R. Yitzḥak’s answer, it seems partial and lacking (and rather weak):
“Because (Psalms 111:6) ‘He declared the power of His works to His people, to give them the heritage of nations’ — so that if the nations of the world say to Israel, ‘You are robbers, for you conquered the lands of the seven nations,’ they will say to them: ‘All the earth belongs to the Holy One, blessed be He; He created it and gave it to whomever was right in His eyes. By His will He gave it to them, and by His will He took it from them and gave it to us.’”
According to him, the first one and a quarter ḥumashim appear in the Torah only to equip us with a weapon for a future debate with the nations, who will claim that we stole the land from the seven peoples who dwelt there (=the Palestinians?). The answer is that the Holy One is the owner, and therefore it is His right to give the land to whomever He chooses. Convinced? Do you now understand why for thousands of years we drill the entire book of Genesis into our poor children? I must say that to me this is not especially convincing, and apparently the Palestinians are not especially persuaded either (yes, I too know the vort that “He declared the power of His works to His people” means the message is intended primarily for us, not for them). But let’s set aside the flimsiness of this answer and focus on its content. That, too, is very puzzling. At best, R. Yitzḥak’s words explain the appearance of the first chapter of Genesis, the one that describes creation itself. God created the world and thus has the right to give any part of it to whomever He wishes. But what about the rest of Genesis and the beginning of Exodus? What about all the narrative parts of the Torah? What is R. Yitzḥak’s explanation for their appearance?
It seems to me that Rashi himself felt this difficulty and hinted at a broader answer when he wrote “to whomever is upright in His eyes.” If the Torah contained only chapter 1 (the account of creation), then the argument would be a force-of-law claim: God is the owner because He created the land (He has “copyright” on it), and thus He may give it to whomever He wants. But God also wished to equip us with a moral-value justification — a real rationale. He wishes to show that the decision to give us the land is not arbitrary (even though such a decision would also be His right). The land is coming to us because we are upright in His eyes. When Rashi writes “to whomever is upright (yashar) in His eyes,” there is more than a hint that Genesis is called by Ḥazal “Sefer ha-Yashar,” the “Book of the Upright” (see Avodah Zarah 25a). In the Netziv’s introduction to his commentary Ha‘amek Davar on the Torah, he explains that it is so called because that book is intended to teach us the uprightness and morality that preceded the giving of the Torah. It is “the book of the upright,” i.e., of the Patriarchs who were upright. If so, the purpose of the book is to show that they conducted themselves ethically and morally even before they were commanded — and that is what Genesis describes.
On this reading, Rashi’s words indeed provide an explanation for the appearance of everything prior to “This month shall be for you.” To win the argument with the wicked nations, it does not suffice to describe creation and assert a force-of-law claim. The Torah must also include the “Book of the Upright,” i.e., the entire process up to the Exodus in Parashat Bo, because in addition to the force-based claim it must demonstrate two further things: (a) that our forefathers were upright and that the land is theirs by right (whereas, as is known, the seven nations were not, “for the iniquity of the Amorite is not yet complete”); it is no accident that R. Moshe Ḥayyim Luzzatto’s ethical work is titled Mesillat Yesharim (“Path of the Upright”) — uprightness is an expression of morality. That is the moral lesson. (b) It must also show our historical unfolding from them — that we are their descendants who inherit, by right, what they received from God. That is the historical lesson. It is no accident that there is a medieval anonymous work on the history of humanity and our people titled Sefer ha-Yashar. That follows from Genesis’s second message, the historical message.
Through all this, Genesis is meant to teach us — and the whole world — what it means to be upright. That is, it is not merely an answer in a polemic over the right to the land, but a source that teaches us, via that polemic, values of morality and uprightness. Perhaps that is the principal lesson we are to derive from Genesis and from the non-legal parts of the Torah. Rashi, at the very beginning of his commentary, comes to teach us that the Torah is actually divided into two parts, with the watershed between them in the section “This month” in Parashat Bo: up to “This month” it is a book whose purpose is moral and historical; from “This month” on, it is a book whose core is halakha (of course, historical and moral components are appended there as well).
I explained in that column that the distinction between these two parts is not only historical or textual. It has substantive significance for our own day. What emerges is that these are two independent parts of the Torah: on the one hand, halakha, which is the particularist part; and on the other, morality and values (I am setting aside history, which is of course a separate part), which are universal. Many tend to see halakha as an expression of “Jewish morality,” but I have often argued that this involves a double mistake: (a) there is no such animal as “Jewish morality” — morality, by definition, is universal and binds all human beings; (b) morality and halakha are two independent categories. Halakha does not concern itself with morality, and vice versa; they are transparent to one another. In this column I wish to discuss a third layer to this structure, and argue that in practice we do not in fact learn moral values from the Torah. Not only are they universal and not only do they not arise from halakha and are unconnected to it; we actually derive them from ourselves and not from the Torah — just as God expects of the nations, that they understand them and act upon them even without studying Torah. If the nations can, presumably we can as well.
These points have angered, and still anger, not a few listeners. Seemingly, this renders that part of the Torah empty of content and devoid of value to study. So why was it written? How am I to understand Rashi’s words cited above? These are excellent questions, and I do not have an answer. But the fact is that we — including those who protest against me — do not learn morality from the Torah. I will now bring one example of many.
Joseph’s Actions as Viceroy of Egypt: Two Moral Problems
In a Midah Tovah essay for Parashat Vayigash (5767), I discussed Joseph’s socio-economic policy during the years of famine in Egypt. The account appears in Genesis 47:13–26:
“Now there was no bread in all the land, for the famine was very severe, so that the land of Egypt and the land of Canaan languished because of the famine. Joseph gathered all the money that was found in the land of Egypt and in the land of Canaan for the grain that they were buying, and Joseph brought the money into Pharaoh’s house. When the money was spent in the land of Egypt and in the land of Canaan, all the Egyptians came to Joseph and said, ‘Give us bread; why should we die in your presence, for the money is gone!’ And Joseph said, ‘Give your livestock, and I will give you bread in exchange for your livestock, if the money is gone.’ So they brought their livestock to Joseph, and Joseph gave them bread in exchange for the horses, the flocks, the cattle, and the donkeys; and he provided them with bread in exchange for all their livestock that year. When that year ended, they came to him the second year and said to him, ‘We cannot conceal from my lord that our money is spent, and the herds of livestock belong to my lord; nothing is left before my lord but our bodies and our land. Why should we die before your eyes — both we and our land? Buy us and our land for bread, and we and our land will be slaves to Pharaoh; give seed so that we may live and not die, and that the land may not lie desolate.’ So Joseph bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh, for the Egyptians sold every man his field, because the famine was severe upon them; thus the land became Pharaoh’s. And the people he resettled in the cities, from one end of Egypt’s border to the other. Only the land of the priests he did not buy, for the priests had an allotment from Pharaoh, and they ate their allotment that Pharaoh gave them; therefore they did not sell their land. Then Joseph said to the people, ‘Behold, I have bought you and your land today for Pharaoh. Here is seed for you, and you shall sow the land. And at the harvests you shall give a fifth to Pharaoh, and four parts shall be yours for seed of the field, and for your food, and for those in your households, and to feed your little ones.’ And they said, ‘You have saved our lives; may we find favor in the eyes of my lord, and we will be slaves to Pharaoh.’ And Joseph made it a statute to this day concerning the land of Egypt, that Pharaoh should have the fifth; only the land of the priests alone did not become Pharaoh’s.”
Joseph controls the food stores and granaries that were collected during the years of plenty, and now the residents of Egypt buy grain from him with money. After the money runs out, they hand over their livestock and beasts; afterward, their lands; and finally he buys them themselves. This remains the situation for generations to come. Joseph essentially takes advantage of the population’s dire state and uses it to enslave them and all their property to the king. This immediately evokes questions of price-gouging and hoarding produce — exploiting famine in order to amass wealth. Indeed, R. Ahai, author of the She’iltot, discusses this topic in She’iltah 32, related to this parashah.
Beyond that, in verse 21 the Torah describes Joseph as relocating the local population:
“And the people he resettled in the cities, from one end of Egypt’s border to the other.”
And Rashi there explains:
“‘He resettled the people’ — Joseph moved them from city to city, as a reminder that they no longer had a portion in the land, and he settled the residents of one city in another. The verse did not need to state this, except to make known Joseph’s praise — that he intended to remove disgrace from his brothers, so that people would not call them ‘exiles.’”
“‘From one end of Egypt’s border…’ — so he did to all the cities under the Egyptian kingdom, from one end of its border to the other.”
It is not entirely clear how these two explanations in the first Rashi relate. From the first, it seems that this mass relocation was intended to prevent revolt and to rule with an iron hand over the suffering populace — as tyrants have always done. But the second explanation is even more troubling: Joseph exiles all the inhabitants of Egypt and mixes their places only so that his brothers will not feel like the only exiles in the land. To improve the situation of his twelve brothers and their families, he carries out a mass population transfer affecting multitudes of Egyptians. Note that, in the midrash and in Rashi who cites it, this is said in Joseph’s praise. It seems they do not even feel there is any moral problem in such a dreadful step, and certainly do not trouble themselves to justify or comment upon it.
Thus we have two very severe moral problems: exploiting distress and price-gouging, and a mass population transfer of the entire citizenry aimed at improving the lot of the ruler’s family. Is this morally reasonable? Would you recommend that we all adopt Joseph’s policy — i.e., learn these moral “values” from our parashah?
The Prohibition of Price-Gouging and Hoarding Produce, and the Problem with Joseph’s Actions
The source of this prohibition is in Bava Batra 90b, which deals with ona’ah (overreaching), price-gouging, and conduct in the Land of Israel during famine (whether it is permitted or forbidden to leave in such a situation). Among other things, the following baraita is cited there:
“Our rabbis taught: Hoarders of produce, lenders at interest, shrinkers of the ephah, and price-gougers — regarding them the verse says (Amos 8): ‘Saying, When will the new moon be over, that we may sell grain? and the Sabbath, that we may open the barns; to make the ephah small and the shekel great, and to falsify balances of deceit.’ And it is written (Amos 8): ‘The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob: Surely I will never forget any of their deeds.’”
The baraita learns from the verses in Amos that there are evil practices that God does not forget forever: lending at interest (“to make the shekel great”), selling at exorbitant prices (“when will the new moon be over, that we may sell grain”), altering measures (“to make the ephah small”), and hoarding produce (“that we may open the barns”). And the Rashbam explains there:
“‘Hoarders of produce’ — those who buy in the market to store and sell at a high price, thereby causing the price to rise and there is loss to the poor. It seems to me this refers to a city whose majority are Jews.”
At first glance, this is precisely what Joseph does in Egypt.
I will not enter here into the details of the sugya (see the essay cited above), and will suffice with several points relevant to us. In that sugya and in the commentators there are distinctions between the Land of Israel and the Diaspora (some prohibitions apply only in the Land). On that basis, one might say that the purpose of the prohibition is to prevent leaving the Land and that there is no moral issue here (a sort of capitalist view). But that sounds rather implausible and is not the plain sense of the verses and sugyot. From the prophetic passion in Amos it is clear that such conduct is also immoral. Beyond that, one can see in the sugya that there is a difference between Jews and gentiles, for interpersonal obligations were stated only regarding Jews (“one who acts as your people”). That could explain Joseph’s actions, insofar as he did this to gentiles. But even so, this is unsatisfying. Joseph was viceroy; part of his role was to ensure proper governance of the kingdom. It is not reasonable, in his position and role, to apply legal rules that erase moral duties toward all non-Jewish residents. Bottom line: this looks very problematic.
One could propose substantive explanations for Joseph’s conduct. For example, perhaps this kind of “feral capitalism” was necessary to manage Egypt’s economic and social life. The fact is that when the Egyptians farmed their own land they failed and fell into famine, whereas when they sold everything to Pharaoh, matters were managed better. That is, this “harshness” brought everyone to a better state, which could be the justification. As noted above, that could also justify Joseph’s mass transfer of the population (to prevent revolt). The question of favoring his brothers at the expense of all the Egyptians, of course, remains. Perhaps the attitude toward gentiles is also the explanation for that. I do not buy it.
Moreover, the fact that all the property remained Pharaoh’s and the Egyptians remained sharecroppers for generations somewhat undermines that explanation. If the purpose was merely to get through the years of famine in the most successful and peaceful manner, Joseph should have restored the status quo once the famine ended.
A Nuanced View
One could address these two difficulties by adopting a “nuanced view” (see on this in columns 29–30, 266, 444, and many others), which renders the search for a moral justification unnecessary. For example, one might claim that Scripture praises Joseph for caring for his brothers and family, but that does not mean he acted correctly. His mistreatment of the Egyptians was immoral, and still he deserves credit for concern for his family. Likewise regarding price-gouging: perhaps he is praised for common sense and effective management, but that does not mean he acted in a morally proper way. On this view, praise of a person does not mean everything about him is perfect, nor even that the act in question was worthy. It may be that he deserves praise for one aspect, which does not contradict criticism of other aspects of the act or the personality in question.
Discussion
The conclusion is that, on the face of it, Joseph acted in a very problematic manner — perhaps even legally, and certainly morally. Some will see the moral explanations I proposed as sufficient answers to these passages. We saw, for example, the distinction between Jews and gentiles, premised on the assumption that the gentiles of old were not deserving of humane and moral treatment. Yet the Bible and Ḥazal praise Abraham greatly for his treatment of Arabs, and so on, which makes this explanation difficult. I remind you that the “Book of the Upright” (i.e., Genesis) deals entirely with the Patriarchs in a gentile environment. It is not plausible that this book aims to teach us that one must be cruel to gentiles, and that this is the moral and “upright” lesson that the Book of the Upright comes to teach. At most, that could explain why we are not dealing here with an immoral act — but it is hard to extract and learn moral lessons from it. Some will even argue that this was appropriate for gentiles then, but not for gentiles in our day (who are restrained by the “manners of the nations” — see, for example, in my essay here, among others). On this interpretive path, there is neither condemnation nor practical adoption of Joseph’s conduct. It was appropriate then; for our times it is irrelevant (an apologetic route people are very fond of). We also saw that there is the possibility that in truth there is no explanation, and that we indeed condemn Joseph for his actions (while praising certain aspects).
But whether we choose to resolve the moral difficulties somehow, or claim that it was right then but not now, or refuse such approaches and condemn Joseph outright for his conduct, there remains a common underlying point shared by those who take all these routes. Note that according to all of them we remain with the same moral stance with which we arrived at the discussion. Those who view such acts as problematic will condemn Joseph or seek a moral reconciliation of his deeds. But in any case, they will ultimately remain with the values they held before studying this passage. Will there be someone who says: “I indeed think these acts are intolerable, but the Joseph passage teaches me that I am mistaken — this is how one ought to act”? Such a person should infer that he must act likewise in his own life. And even if there is someone like that, I have no doubt he is someone who thought so to begin with (that gentiles do not merit humane treatment, and that there is no difference between the gentiles of old and those of today). That is, even he — who seemingly learned a moral lesson from the passage — did not truly extract it from the passage, but at most used it to anchor his prior conceptions. I remind you of what I noted above: if we view the Torah as a source that teaches us moral values, we ought to abandon our moral conceptions and adopt Joseph’s ways in practice. It is very hard for me to imagine someone who behaves like that (unless, as stated, he already thought so beforehand).
Conclusions
The conclusion is that none of us really learns morality from the Torah. We delude ourselves that this is the case. In practice, however, we study a biblical passage and force it to fit the values we believe in. Even if originally those values were drawn from the Torah and our tradition, that is only history. At least today these values are shared worldwide, and therefore at least today one can confidently say that we do not learn moral values from the Torah. So what’s the point of dealing with these passages?!
As I said to someone this past Shabbat, perhaps there is “engagement” with Torah here, but not Torah study. We do the same kind of “study” with Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment or any other book. We always have moral criticism of what happens in the book, and either try to reconcile it or we condemn it. But we will never say that if Dostoevsky wrote so, then I must be wrong and should change the values I believe in. That is precisely how we behave toward the Torah. Therefore, if this is how we engage the Torah, one might say we are “dealing with” Torah, but not that we are learning Torah. We do not learn anything from it.
And again, the questions “So why was it written?” and “What are we supposed to do with these texts?” are good questions for which I have no answers. But none of that changes the fact of the matter — that in practice we do not learn moral values from the Torah. First we must stop denying and deceiving ourselves. We must honestly admit that this is the situation; only then can we try to look for answers.
Why assume that Joseph did not choose the better option? It is possible that his acquaintance with the Egyptian people knew that if he did not manage it during such a severe famine, one would devour one another alive. If private individuals had taken over the lands, it could have been much worse, see feudal Europe.
And why does he give them four-fifths of the crops! And it is possible that he acted fairly in the other conditions as well.
The ancient Egyptians were idolaters, slave-slaves, and murderers of peoples, and therefore their wealth and bodies are permissible according to your view, as is the view of the Meiri in Amd and the rest of the land, he saw and the rest of the Gentiles. Therefore, I will go further and further from here, supporting the words of the Sages that their wealth is permissible.
I don't understand the evidence. Does the rabbi think that it is not possible to learn a theory from the Gemara? I think that the rabbi also admits that it is certainly possible to learn a theory from the Gemara, and yet if we find a theory that is clearly illogical or that conflicts with some or other principle, we will place the Gemara in the Okimta. The same is true in the Tanakh, I would be happy to understand the difference (if the argument is only that we do not do this, it should be a question for us and not for those who do learn from the Tanakh, and certainly not evidence that we do not learn from the Tanakh)
In the Gemara (in halakhic issues) this is not the case because there we are dealing with halacha, and in halacha we usually do not have a priori ideas, unlike morality. When you raise an opinion, it is raised to explain a halakhic principle and not just because that is what you think.
Indeed, the claim is that we do not do this. I do not care if you see this as an argument against us (all the students) or against the Bible. In practice, this is the situation.
On the contrary, it is reasonable to assume that the famine and Joseph's actions created a new and more just social order for the benefit of the weak and enslaved people of Egypt. The move to the cities stopped years of slavery and cruelty. Everyone was given a chance for a new life.
Even if the master plan had a central goal, there were certainly additional goals.
The bottom line, and perhaps this is the moral learned from the parsha: God gives inheritance and enriches, humbles and exalts, raises up from the dust of the lowly…
There is a plan, there is a law, and there is a judge.
Sorry, the comment jumped below.
Addition to what Mahog said
It doesn't matter, because the main point of the rabbi's argument remains - you didn't change your moral position and simply gave an explanation of how what Joseph did was moral - according to your standards.
N. Mekhog,
I disagree with the arguments you raised, but that's not the point of the column. The question is not whether Joseph was moral or not, but whether you learned something new moral from the story and it changed your existing position.
It is very possible that this was in keeping with the morals of the time and the views on the authority and responsibility of a king. Or perhaps this itself is the message - follow the moral values of your time and place.
Perhaps Joseph learned from the Kabba himself. I will explain: What did the Kabba want in the whole story of the famine and the dreams? After all, if he wanted to bring famine, why did he reveal it to Pharaoh in a dream and let Joseph solve it? Apparently the Kabba planned for Joseph to reach the kingdom through this and save his brothers and they would follow him down to Egypt. Which was supposed to happen according to the prophecy to Abraham. And here the question arises: Did the Kabba bring famine to the world in which people, children and old people, would surely die, and all this in order to fulfill his promise and bring a small family down to Egypt? Apparently there are goals for which it is worth driving the whole world crazy, and from this Joseph learned that it is possible and appropriate to move the Egyptians from their place for his family.
Hello Rabbi,
I would like to better understand your theory that we do not learn from the Bible and the legends. Is there no value in studying/reading these areas?
In contrast, is there no value in reading Dostoevsky and good literature?
Maybe we do not learn but do reinforce existing values?
I explained. Indeed, I see no value in it. A real waste of time. But it involves engaging in Torah, and therefore I cannot determine that it lacks religious value (that there is no commandment to study Torah). I expanded on this in the second book of the trilogy. Strengthening existing values is not Torah study. Not everything of value is Torah study. There is also value in waving a lulav. Is that Torah study?
I didn't understand where you saw in the text that there was a confiscation of gates at Joseph's. I didn't see it. It's just that the gates remained the same, only there was no livelihood and no money.
By the way, I see from this a model (moral? possible?) for an AI world where there would be no livelihood for anyone and the state would allocate a living for citizens. Maybe this is what the days of the Messiah will look like.
Finally, – Did the people of Israel contribute anything to the morality of the world in your opinion? If so – How did they do it? If not – Is there something special about the people of Israel?
See the issue there. And it also remains for generations. I explained in the column.
If you see a possible model here, it only means that this model appeared to you even before (even if you may not have thought about it).
The column contributed to the morality of the world, not necessarily the people of Israel. Maybe the prophets. In my opinion, there is nothing special about it in the specific sense. It has uniqueness, but there is uniqueness in every people.
I find it a bit difficult to say that we don't learn morality from the Tanakh, and I'm not talking about cases of private individuals like Joseph, but about prophets who rebuke the people for wrongdoings they committed (not necessarily halakhic), or things like that, that I read it like a book of morality, not that I distort the Torah, but that I change my behavior and outlook and understand that my actions are not correct. Why doesn't that belong? I can accept the claim that the purpose of the Torah is the worship of God, and in any case, in order to worship Him, one must be a moral person, and the Torah shows a place how to be a moral person, or at least rebukes immoral people.
If it's hard, take a pill.
Rebuke is not learning. Learning means understanding/knowing something that I didn't understand/know before. If you sin but understand that it's a sin, then rebuke is not learning. As I wrote above, not everything of value is learning Torah.
Some comments:
1. The assumption sought in your article: It seems that in the article you assume in advance that morality is a universal category and that Joseph's conduct can be judged according to these standards. In doing so, you rule out in advance the possibility that the Torah or Joseph offer a different moral system, which does not correspond to the universal principles of our time. What would you answer to someone who believes that the enslavement of the Gentiles is moral, as stated in Yalkut Shimoni (Isaiah 1:17) regarding the days of the Messiah: "We will be slaves to you and to Israel," and each of Israel will hold thousands of slaves, or as also stated in Tractate Shabbat (Lev. 1:2)? Is it possible that the Torah describes a particular morality that is different from the universal morality that you assume?
2. And if you say that Joseph's actions deviate from the moral standards according to the Gemara in Baba Batra, here too things are not seen. It seems that the Gemara there deals with prohibitions that apply between Jews, such as lending at interest, which only applies to Israel. Maimonides even believes that there is a mitzvah to lend at interest to a non-Jew. If so, can we conclude that the prohibition against hoarding fruit also applies only to Israel and not to non-Jews, and therefore there is no halachic problem with Yosef's actions? Likewise, do Rishonim believe that even abroad, in places with an Israeli majority, there is a prohibition against hoarding fruit?
3. Thirdly, when I read this section, I was struck by the idea that Yosef is moving more towards extreme communism and not pig capitalism as you wrote. Yosef is not an economic player in the market but a representative of the kingdom (government) and in fact he is working to ascribe to himself all of the social capital. And we can see that he is gradually working so that there will be no capitalists at all - but that everyone will have equal socio-economic status. In fact, once everyone is sold into slavery, it is the kingdom that takes care of everyone equally, regardless of their job. I don't know if there is a moral statement here, but there is no greed here either.
I will just comment that I do believe that halakha and morality are two different and independent categories, but from reading this article I saw quite a few logical difficulties and inaccuracies. I would appreciate your comment.
1. Again the same lack of understanding. If someone thinks so, then they will adopt this position. And still the question is whether there is someone who does not think so and yet will adopt this position because this is what the verses indicate. In my opinion, no.
2. You are again repeating things I wrote in the column itself. Are you sure you read it?
3. Indeed, everyone except one wealthy person (Pharaoh) and the priests of course. If that is what you call communism – we have a terminology problem. I was not talking about greed for money. And I also commented on the fact that it perpetuated the situation even after the years of famine.
In general, I agree with your argument. But in fact, we are entering into the question of whether it is possible to learn anything from the Scriptures, not even the legendary/narrative ones, your eyes seeing that learning Halakha from the Scriptures is not as simple as reading a book of laws, but rather a process in which, with the help of some tradition and data from the thought of the Rishonim, etc., we can process and consider until we finally get an output. It is possible that learning morality from the Torah is similar to this in some way, whether from what our parents taught us who learned from their parents, or from our own thinking and observation of the world around us.
I didn't understand the argument. There is no output here. The output is equal to the input.
Perhaps Joseph thought that if it were not for the wisdom he received from God and his ability, the Egyptians would be dead and therefore he has a fundamental ownership over them, similar to God. The steps he took were only a formal aspect of a fundamental matter that existed. Without him, they would be dead and therefore they are essentially his.
I have a hard time understanding the argument: seemingly the question about Joseph is no different from any other question about a text or a finding; when we encounter a text or finding that does not fit with other texts and findings, and with logic – we try different solutions: sometimes we update our understanding of the new text or finding, sometimes the old one, and sometimes the logic, all according to what creates a coherent picture that seems most correct.
Joseph's behavior is problematic because it does not fit the general moral picture that emerges from the Bible, and our moral intuition. In such a case, it turns out to find a local solution to the puzzle (or to stay in the TNA rather than change everything else). On the other hand, if we encounter a comprehensive moral perception that emerges from the scriptures that does not fit our perception (for example, that not everyone is equal and that one group is preferred over another, or that sexual promiscuity and idolatry are very serious sins), then it is appropriate to update our perception.
According to this, you learn nothing from nothing. But this is of course not true. When you study a physics book, even if there is something that does not make sense, you accept it and you have learned something new. When you study a biblical passage and derive a moral value from it that is incorrect in your opinion, you will reconcile it so that there is no contradiction.
Even when I study a physics book, I examine what is written in light of familiar reality and other physics books, and if there is a contradiction, I will try to resolve the contradiction.
This is true for every new piece of data we encounter. We do not accept it with our eyes closed but try to fit it into the general picture of the world that emerges from various sources of information. Isn't that right?
No, we do try, the question is what happens when we don't succeed. In physics we learn new things, not from the Torah (at least in the moral realm).
Rabbi Yochanan said: Why is it written, “He who grows a fig tree shall eat its fruit?” Why are the words of the Torah likened to a fig tree? What is this fig tree? Every time a person touches it, figs are found in it. Even the words of the Torah, every time a person ponders them, a taste is found in them.
There is no such thing as not finding new things in the Torah, and this is true in every part of it.
And we say amen. I've always liked statements. It's much more convenient than arguments on the merits. That way you don't get entangled in thinking, which is a troublesome and uneasy matter.
In other words: You are right that the Torah (and certainly a particular text) is not the sole source that influences our moral perception, but that does not mean that it does not influence at all. It has a great influence in shaping human moral perception, in combination with other factors such as reality and natural intuition.
We were slaves – and we remained.
All of Egypt became slaves to Pharaoh. And all of this to justify imposing a 20 percent tax.
Today we are “free people” and pay close to that (18 percent) tax on the water we drink and the milk
for our children. In addition to income tax, and purchase taxes. In total – over 40 percent.
So who is the slave?
Joseph was a great liberal in relation to us. Not to mention the fact that all our assets are exposed to the eyes of the government –
And soon, with the abolition of cash, the tax collector will be able to know about every piece of gum we buy.
Joseph taught me:
– Because in the face of pagans who do not observe the Seven Commandments of the Children of Noah, it is permissible from the principle of the law to exploit their situation for the sake of those who observe the commandments. If it were not for the story, I would not have known this, and I might have mistakenly thought that the degree of chassidut with pagans is from the principle of the law, and perceive such chassidut as a supreme value. Thanks to studying the Torah, I would not have such a supreme value.
– Joseph taught me that in a situation of evil, and evil in its lesser form, it is appropriate to choose the lesser evil. After all, Joseph was not a king, and the only way to save the lives of the inhabitants was at the cost of enlarging Pharaoh's house (referring to Pharaoh's commercial sense). This moral position teaches me that “sit and do not do” is not preferable, and that it is appropriate to do a good deed even at the cost of moral harm.
The Torah taught me, and all of humanity, many moral rules. For example: If it were not for the story of Jacob versus Esau and Leben, or Abraham versus Abimelech, the Torah-observant Jews of the Diaspora would not have known that they had to act cunningly with the authorities. If the stories of the patriarchs had been different, we might have chosen to die in exile for some Kantian ideal, and would not have known how to act cunningly and compromise. In other words, the order of priorities of our values would have been different. And it is the Torah that taught us which value to reject in favor of which value.
Likewise, a different Torah might have taught us to exterminate the weak, the poor, and the sick, for the common good – from a position that sees the collective as the main thing. It is the Torah of Israel that taught humanity what Nietzsche called “slave morality”. “Love your neighbor as yourself” – is not something that is self-evident, and it is a fact that it has not been self-evident throughout history, and among most peoples. So yes, the Torah taught us morality, values, and priorities. And after it taught us morality – today morality seems and feels natural and obvious to us. It seems that habit has misled us to the point that today we can ask “Why do we even need Torah to learn morality”…
You wrote beautifully.
Thank you for your response, Yitzhak.
Despite my mistakes, I must commend the opportunity given by Dr. Michai Avraham to respond to his comments, and the great deal of time he invests in responding to so many commenters. Not obvious. Thank you very much.
It is not for nothing that the word mussar in the meaning of transmission, and the word mussar in the meaning of way of behavior are almost identical. Most of the values that a person receives, come from his immediate environment. Similarly, Jewish morality is a tradition of how to understand the words of the Torah. It is not for nothing that it is said: “And the righteous will dwell in them, and the wicked will be gathered in them” (Hosea 14:10)
Only a person who is absolutely sure of his opinions cannot learn morality from the Torah, but according to his pride, God forbid, to teach it his morality, and to God also its creator, depending on how confident he is. And this is true of any source of learning. If a person does not put his opinions aside for a moment and hear a new opinion in a neutral manner, he will really not learn anything new.
Proof of this can be found in the Gemara article in Blessings:
T”R. Kashla R’ Eliezer His disciples came to visit him and said to him, Our Lord, we have learned ways of life and through them we will merit life in the world to come. He said to them, Be careful with the honor of your friends and prevent your sons from reasoning and make them sit between the knees of the Torah scholars. And when you pray, know before whom you stand and for that you will merit life in the world to come (Berachot 28:)
Make them sit between the knees of the Torah scholars – so that they may learn from their ways, but for this to work, it is necessary to precede – prevent your sons from reasoning – so that they may not think that they know the right way.
Another thing is the whole claim that -“right in his eyes” This is if a person walks a straight path, which is not correct, for it is explicitly written:
“Do not say in your heart, “The LORD your God has brought me in to possess this land because of my righteousness, and because of the wickedness of these nations, the LORD dispossessed them before you”… Deuteronomy 9:5
Righteous in his eyes is his absolute choice that is not influenced by any factor, although he can explain his choice as written later.
The claim that it was possible to dispense with the Book of Genesis is also not binding, because according to this claim it should have been written - it should not have been written, why is it written - "it should not have begun"? It probably should have been mentioned later, and the main thing is to be precise about why it was written at the beginning.
Strange arguments.
First, it has nothing to do with your confidence in your opinions. In fact, this is the case with all of us. Statements do not change the facts.
The legend you brought from Ryuch and the absurd interpretation you offered for it constitute a great example of worts who build on legends and the Bible to confirm what you somehow believe.
Regarding Yashar Ein-iyo, see the introduction to Genesis. I mentioned it there. You probably prefer your worts to strengthen the status of worts. Your right, of course. Only this is another example that strengthens my argument.
According to your suggestion that the discussion is only why they started in Genesis and not why it was written (the linguistic accuracy is of course absurd), the answer is hidden from Mashi himself. In your opinion, what is the answer? If it appeared in the Book of Exodus, could we not say this answer to the Gentiles? And what is the explanation for why they started with the entire book of Genesis and not just with the Creation?
Well, I eagerly await the next installments.
The truth is that all your words are mere opinions, they are not necessary or binding, and you in your articles are not too committed to one interpretation or another. I have come up with a way to interpret things according to my opinion, not because it is the only interpretation.
What I wrote about being honest in his own eyes refers to the ’, but the truth is that it is more appropriate to mention here the path of a person who is honest in his own eyes, everyone is sure of his own path.
To get out of this spiral, one must pray.
I will add that your method is to disconnect the connection between things, and in contrast, I am looking to see the connection.
The difference between us (besides the fact that my words are usually not vortices) is that I am allowed to say vortices because I recognize that this is what they are and do not claim to have learned them from Scripture. On the other hand, you bring up vortices and explain to me that you learned what you thought beforehand from Scripture. A little logic would not hurt in this discussion. From this you will also be able to understand that what you are looking for or not looking for is irrelevant to our discussion.
I think that if one agrees with the following two assumptions, it is difficult to say that studying Torah does not influence moral values:
A. What we read and learn influences our moral values.
B. The Torah has a certain moral statement, even if it can be pulled in other and even opposite directions.
I am surprised by this argument. I have learned and still learn many values from the Bible, and I have also changed some views as a result of observing the scriptures.
This does not mean that the Bible is the only source, and I add to it my intuition and that of the rest of the world.
Beautiful. I can say that I learned something from your message: that you think you learned something from the Bible. I already learned something (and it was thanks to the Bible).
Good week,
On Shabbat I saw that Nechama Leibowitz’ in her book on Genesis, Parashat Vaygash, explains beautifully, verse by verse, Joseph's actions for the welfare of Egypt and the entire world during the years of famine. Economic and moral management of a world in crisis. There is definitely something to learn. To the point.
It may be that God's will for people to unite their morality with the Torah, saw something similar in the light of life Leviticus 13:37. And my intention is not to claim that this teaches something new, etc., but to try to understand the matter in this..
And isn't the study of the Tannaim "Dini Memunot" in matters that do not depart from verses and do not analyze the texts of their predecessors supposedly "not learning Torah," right? And perhaps this is included in the study of the commandment of judging, etc.?
True, it is the clarification of the law of law-making. By the way, there are quite a few things there that renew principles for me that I did not understand.
You are studying the principles of the GEM, but has anything new come to the conditions themselves that understood the principles?
To Rabbi Mikhi,
For your answer, things are presented somewhat one-sidedly. You brought a rather extreme example in which there is a head-on clash between the story of the Torah and the moral sentiment, and projected it onto the entire Torah, as if it were impossible to learn moral conduct from the narrative part of the Torah.
In my opinion, there are many intermediate cases for which we do not have a clear moral perception, and in which the Torah does indeed teach us moral values, or sharpens existing moral values to a higher level. Just by thinking about it, I can think of several examples of moral conduct that I learned from the Torah and that if it were not for the Torah, I probably would not have thought of:
· From the conduct of our forefather Abraham who said, “Give me life and property, take it for yourself” – I learned a higher level of what generosity is, and the unwillingness to enjoy the property of others even when I deserve it – something that I had not thought of myself before.
· From Jacob's description of how he worked for Laban the Aramean, "I was eaten by day by the desert and by night by the ice and by year by year by night by day by year To come and declare with such confidence that no moral can be learned from the Torah, and to further imply that these stories are apparently unnecessary, is really reminiscent of the words of the Gemara (Sanad’ tt:) about Menashe who would sit and demand the legends of Dupi: And that Moses had nothing to write but ‘And Lotan's sister Timna, and Timna was a concubine to Eliphaz’ etc. God forbid me from saying so about you.
According to your claim that ”Even if there were someone who supposedly learned a moral lesson from the parsha, I have no doubt that this was a person who thought it through in advance and did not really derive it from the parsha, but at most used it to anchor his preconceived notions”. You have made your thesis irrefutable, because even if someone really teaches something, you will always be able to argue with them, and since it is thus invalidated due to Popper's well-known principle of refutation.
From the example you gave about Joseph, we can say at most that the Torah is not our *exclusive* source for learning morality, because there is also our intuition and our conscience, and we weigh them in each case on its merits. But this does not mean that it has no influence at all on our moral conduct. The Torah sharpens, reveals, and reveals to us through its stories moral concepts that were hidden in us, which we would probably not have thought about on our own, and even if we had thought about them, we probably would not have acted on them in practice. And when the Torah presents to us what was right in the eyes of God, we discover in ourselves a higher morality that exists in us and also strive to act in this way and put it into practice.
I don't have the strength to return to this discussion that has already been thoroughly debated here. I have brought here another example of a phenomenon that I have discussed many times in the past.