Parashat Bereshit (5761)
With God’s help, on the eve of the holy Sabbath of Parashat Bereshit, 5761
Haman the Wicked, Adam, and the Lost Garden of Eden
The Gemara asks: Where is Haman [=the wicked one, from the Scroll of Esther] hinted at in the Torah? And it cites as a source the verse
from our portion: ‘Have you eaten from the tree from which I commanded you not to eat?’ (Genesis 3:11). It is a bit hard to believe that the Gemara
is simply playing with words—the name ‘Haman’ as against the similar-sounding word in the verse, despite the different vocalization—and it seems that there is a
more substantive layer here.
Rabbi Aharon Kotler explained this as follows: Haman the Wicked held a senior position in the court of King
Ahasuerus; in fact, he held the highest position, and it was within his authority to decide everything
that took place in the kingdom, to the point that the king himself appears in the Scroll almost as Haman’s puppet. Despite all this, there was
one small thing that gave him no rest: Mordechai the Jew, who sat at the king’s gate and neither knelt nor
bowed down. He had everything, yet this marginal detail gave him no peace. In the end, it was
this that brought him down, to the point of being hanged on the tree.
Rabbi Aharon explains that the Sages, in the above saying, intended to hint at this phenomenon. Adam too had
everything a person could desire. He did not need to work for his livelihood, and he could enjoy
all the contents of the Garden of Eden as their owner. The whole world was his and stood at his disposal, except that there was one tree
from which he was forbidden to eat, a tree that was not under his control. This small detail gave him no rest,
and it was this that led him (with the kind assistance of his spouse, long may she live)
to a fall into a sin that proved fateful for all of human history.
Adam’s sin is a foundational myth of human culture, and as such it has aroused
many varied psychological interpretations. Some have seen here the impossibility of a person living in a world
without boundaries, as well as the impossibility of completely refraining from crossing them. Above we saw one aspect
of this phenomenon: ‘one who has a hundred wants two hundred.’ A common saying is that ‘the best is the enemy of
the good.’ Sometimes, when a person is not satisfied with the good and wants specifically the best, this itself
prevents him from attaining the good and causes his downfall.
This guideline seems clear when it is directed at negative aspirations, such as power, honor,
and positions of influence. By contrast, spiritual aspirations would ostensibly be expected to soar to the heavens. It seems that this
intuitive distinction is not so simple, and it must be qualified in at least two respects: first,
aspirations for greater perfection are healthy and fruitful, and without them the world does not advance, and I mean also
the ‘negative’ aspirations of this-worldly life, in the sense that ‘scholars’ envy increases wisdom’ (Bava Batra 21a). Second, sometimes
it is worthwhile to limit aspirations even in positive directions. A person must know what is above him (not
to inquire into what is too wondrous for him; cf. Mishnah Hagigah 2:1), and what is below him (not to aspire too little).
Maimonides, in the Laws of Character Traits, following the Aristotelian doctrine of the virtues, recommends the middle path: not
to be too quick-tempered, but also not too indifferent; not greedy, yet also not too yielding; and so on.
In the realm of aspirations as well, both spiritual and material, there is something like a ‘middle path.’ One may perhaps say
even more than this: very often there is no absolute and independent definition at all of the positive and negative in various
aspirations, and what turns them from positive into destructive and negative is precisely this lack of proportion
in their intensity (though not only this).
According to the accepted view, it would seem that there is an absolute definition of the negative and positive character of aspirations.
Negative aspirations are defined on the basis of their motives and not on the basis of their intensity. A negative aspiration is
an aspiration toward something negative, regardless of how strong it is, or how negative the thing itself may be. It seems to me
that experience shows this position to be incorrect. Aspirations of excessive intensity, beyond
reasonable limits, generally also express a negative motive. When a person aspires too strongly to a political position,
it usually appears that his goal is not merely to serve the public. Even when a person gives too much
charity, there is sometimes a suspicion that his intentions are not entirely pure. Even when a person studies Torah
to the point of exhausting all his strength, people say that this is the evil inclination coming to break his will and thereby divert him
from his study. Exaggerated love of the Jewish people, love of peace, or war, may also serve as a hint
of imperfect motives (perhaps even an exaggerated tendency toward the middle path itself is such a case!).
Aspirations that are too weak, in either direction, also point to something unhealthy. Aspirations that are too weak
for honor or influence point to something dimmed in a person’s psychological makeup, in the engine that drives
him. Aspirations that are too weak for justice and morality, all the more so. A society cannot function without drives
for distinction, power, and influence, which move people to creativity and public activity. This does not mean
that these are positive in essence, but they are certainly reasonable and healthy. Of course, one should try to channel
them toward higher directions and motives.
On its face, this phenomenon seems puzzling. As stated, in a simple and theoretical view there is no reason to link the intensity
of aspirations with their motives, and therefore with their moral evaluation, and yet experience shows
that there is such a correlation (of course, not an absolute one). It seems that the human being is fundamentally constructed in a healthy way,
and therefore an aspiration that comes from a positive place will also come at a reasonable intensity. For this reason, intensity can
sometimes serve as an indication of motives.
Haman the Wicked and Adam, both aspired to unreasonable things. They wanted full
and absolute control over the world around them, ‘to be like God, knowing good and evil’ (Genesis 3:5). The Sages said that the term ‘king’
in the Scroll of Esther points to the King of the universe, and perhaps ‘Haman,’ in a certain sense, is the human being. The king
(=God) gives Haman (=man) authority, but when he wants absolute control over the kingdom he
falls, and loses the Garden of Eden.
‘God made man upright, but they have sought out many schemes’ (Ecclesiastes 7:29).
Have a peaceful Sabbath.
This may be placed with sacred writings designated for respectful disposal in any synagogue or religious seminary. Comments and responses will be gladly received.
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