Gabriel H. Cohen is part of the adjunct faculty in Bible at Bar-Ilan University. For decades he headed Machon Gold in Jerusalem and is deeply involved in Jewish teacher training throughout the world. Dr. Cohen is the author of numerous articles and books, and is currently finishing a book on teaching moral issues in the Bible.

Introduction

Many texts in the Bible generate serious problems in their confront­ation with generally accepted values of human ethics. The complex relationship bet­ween Sara and Hagar, the dubious struggle for the blessing of Isaac, the rape of Dinah and its aftermath, the ‘official’ preference of Jacob for his son Joseph – all these Biblical stories and many, many more make us question the usual standard of our forefathers, who are supposed to serve as role models for all generations.

Most of the moral issues in the Bible were already discussed in detail in our first classic­al commentary of the Bible, the Midrash. In the later Jewish commentaries, up to the contemporary era, we find a steady reference to these moral questions. These problem­atic topics should be dealt with a modern, existential approach based on our classical commentaries and modern Biblical scholarship, taking into account contemporary thinking and values.

In order to advance an approach to these ethical issues, we have to keep in mind three main guidelines:

Acknowledge the problem

We must acknowledge that these issues are indeed problematic. There are many educators who accept the belief that our fore­fathers always acted morally and that we are in no position to question their behavior. They rely upon, amongst other sources, statements such as the Talmudic comment that, “whoever says that our forefathers (Reuben, David, etc.) sinned is mistaken” (B. Shabbat 55B). One prominent proponent of this approach was Rabbi Aharon Kotler, who said:

Therefore, when you teach the stories of our forefathers we have to explain to our students that we are not talking about normal people, with urges and desires like us. We speak about people without ambitions and personal aspirations. People whose level cannot be reached by us. In so much as we cannot evaluate angels, there is no way to evaluate our forefathers and to reach their level.” (Shmaatin 15, 1968)

A more thorough investigation of the Midrashic sources, however, reveals that this approach – ignoring problems by assuming that Biblical heroes are immune to moral weakness ­– is not accepted by the mainstream of the Midrashim and our classical com­mentaries, which discuss in detail moral issues of the Bible. We, therefore, assume – based on Jewish exegesis throughout the ages – that Biblical heroes should and cannot be viewed as angels but as humans– albeit unique ones – with all their weaknesses.

This attitude was best formulated by Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (in his commentary to Genesis 12:10):

The Torah never hides from us the faults, errors and weaknesses of our great men. Just by that it gives the stamp of veracity to what it relates. But in truth, by the knowledge which is given us of their faults and weaknesses, our great men are in now wise made lesser but actually greater and more instructive. If they stood before us as the purest models of perfection we should attribute them as having a different nature, which has been denied to us. Were they without pass­i­on, without internal struggles, their virtues would seem to us the outcome of some higher nature, hardly a merit and certainly no model that we could hope to emulate.

Biblical heroes are heroes

We have to keep in mind that the Biblical figures cannot be treated casually or superficially. They are holy people, unique personalities, and we owe it to them that we study the texts reporting about them carefully, trying to understand their thoughts, motives and deeds with due respect.While it is not our task to apologetically justify what­ever our forefathers did (and it is altogether not our goal to judge them!), it is our duty (like children concerning their parents) to empathically try to understand the various morally questionable steps they took in special situations. Commenting on the verse “Holy people you should be for me” (Ex. 22:30), the Kotzker Rebbe explains: “Your holiness should be human, holiness of human beings shaped of earthly material, not holiness of angels.”

Cultural and historical context

The moral evaluation of situations and actions varies from generation to gener­ation and from one cultural environment to another. If, for example, in Egypt (Gen. 16:21), adultery was strictly forbidden but murder of strangers possible, in our society murder is a most serious sin whereas adultery is unfortunately not regarded as so severe a transgression. It does, however, not make sense to elaborate too much on the changes in ethic­al norms in order to “explain” the actions of our forefathers. Our students want to understand them in relation to our basic moral codes, especially if the discussed topics are of family nature and not connected to public issues (eco­nom­ic measures, war or peace, etc.).

Outlining an approach

In the light of these three remarks, we suggest that all the moral issues in the Bible be discussed through a close reading and serious analysis of the Biblical text and its mean­­ing within its literary context, also taking into account the legal and historic background of the passage. It must be stressed that the text analysis suggested must be done on the basis of the peshat (face value reading of the text), so that the interpretation can be discussed on an objective basis following the accepted rules in understanding the Bible.

The aim of the suggested approach is not to solve the ethical problem but to revive the text in all its inner complexity, and then to enable us to read the Biblical message in an ad­ditional and different way. This traditional, yet academic, approach is open to all educators who want to come to a deeper understanding of the ethical topics of the Bible. Nechama Lebowitz was a champion of this approach to tackling ethically challenging passages, and it has been adopted by many contemporary writers including legal expert Alan Dershowitz , and former Israeli Minister of Justice Daniel Friedman.

Let us share one example of this kind of approach to moral issues in the Bible.

Avram and Sarai in Egypt

After Avram and Sarai reach the Promised Land they are faced with a heavy famine. Avram decides to descend to Egypt, and along the way suggests to his wife that she present herself as his sister to avoid his being killed. Avram and Sarai’s behavior appears ethically problematic, and Abarbanel formulates the difficulty:

What respectable man who would choose a life of disgrace, asking for personal benefit, in return for his wife philandering with others? It would have been more appropriate for him to have chosen death rather than this disgrace!

Similarly, Malbim comments that ‘it appears that he forfeited his wife to receive gifts.”

Our classic commentaries not only raised the issue, with its full weight, but there are those amongst them who heavily criticized Avram and Sarai for their behavior. Ramban writes as follows:

You should know that our forefather, Avraham, sinned greatly (albeit unintentionally), in that he brought his righteous wife to be ensnared in sin because of his fear of being killed. He should have trusted that God would save him and his wife and all that he had, for God has the power to help and save.

However, a deeper look at both the text and the broader context contradicts, to a large extent, Ramban’s approach and will shed new light upon this incident. Avram, himself, offers two reasons for the desire to declare Sarai as his sister, and both appear in his dialogue with Avimelekh (20:11-12), to whom he also presented Sarah as his wife. “For I thought that this is not a God-fearing place and that they would kill me for my wife. And, in truth, she really is my sister from my father’s side, but not from my mother’s side, and she became for me a wife.” Avraham first mentions the need for self-preservation, since he was going to a place that not God-fearing and in which the lives of strangers are forfeit, and only afterwards does he mention that she was, indeed, his sister. The precise nature of Avraham’s biological relationship to Sarah is unclear, but according to tradition she was his niece (his brother’s daughter), and in the Biblical era even distant relatives were “sister.” Similarly, Lot, Avraham’s nephew, is called his “brother” (13:8, 14:14). Avraham emphasizes that, for the sake of saving his life, he felt that he had no choice but to tell a partial truth. Avraham turns the attention in the morality of this story to its proper address – Avimelekh, who leads a society that is not God-fearing or beholden to moral principles. (Note: the term God-fearing, yirat Elohim, is usually used in the Bible to describe adherence to moral principles. See Gen. 42:18, Ex. 1:17.)

Avraham’s words explain the deep crisis he and his wife were in, but do not explain at all why he thought to save himself by presenting themselves and brother and sister. That comes only from an exploration of the broader context of the story.

In the Biblical era, fathers, and older brothers, took responsibility for the well-being of the women in the family, including arranging for their marriage. Thus, Lavan (Rivkah’s brother) deals with the marriage of his sister Rivkah (Gen. 24). Similarly, Dinah’s brothers conduct negotiations with Shekhem (Gen. 36). (Similar relationships were found in Assyrian legal codes from the 12th century BCE.)

It appears, then, that in response to their crisis, Avram and Sarai decided to declare themselves as brother and sister, assuming that the locals would try to negotiate with Avram for the marriage of his beautiful sister. Avram would fend off the potential suitors until their return to Canaan. Shadal, building on the comments of Rabbeinu Nissim, Abarbanel and Seforno, clearly summarizes this plan:

Each one [of the locals] hoped that Avraham would agree to give Sarah to him. They would, therefore, not kill him, because they would think that his intention was to betroth her to one of the local dignitaries. Avraham did not think that she would be taken suddenly and forcefully, but that there would be some time for negotiation, and he would avoid [committing to] them until he could return to his land.

It appears that Avraham’s considerations of the alternatives were appropriate, and the path he chose – presenting Sarah as his sister – could have elegantly saved both of them from a cruel fate. But both of the stories in which he tried this plan developed with a surprising twist when the local despot (Pharaoh in the first case, Avimelekh in the second) decided to take Sarah for himself, exercising his authority without needing Avraham’s consent!

And so, after Avram’s careful planning did not, in the end, yield good results, he needed to deal with the new reality. The way the story unfolds it appears that, at a critical moment, Sarai reveals to Pharaoh her status as Avram’s wife to avoid adultery. It was then that Pharaoh understood that it was because of her that he was being afflicted. Thus, Bereshit Rabbah (41:2) comments on the phrase “on the word of Avram’s wife,” “that she told him that she was a married woman.” And while in the first incident (with Pharaoh) it was Sarai who revealed her true status as a married woman, in the second (with Avimelekh) it was God who revealed it to him in a dream.

From what we have explained above, both Avram’s and Sarai’s declarations about their brother-sister status take on new meaning and are more understandable.

Implications

It would be appropriate for us to ask what we can learn from the reaction of the Torah itself to Avram and Sarai’s behavior in this incident. First, however, we should clarify that the story appears, with nuanced differences, three times in Genesis: 1) Avram-Sarai with Pharaoh (Gen. 12:10-20), 2) Avraham-Sarah with Avimelekh (Gen. 20), and 3) Yitzhak-Rivkah with Avimelekh (Gen. 26:6-11).

The fact that the heroes of Genesis repeated the tactic suggests that they felt no guilt regarding their actions. Even more, the text suggests that God Himself participated in the ruse. It is as if the Torah is trying to suggest that Man’s duty is to do everything within his power to save himself while simultaneously trusting that God will do His part. Both with Pharaoh and Avimelekh, God takes action once it becomes clear that the human efforts failed.

The choice of deceit (or cleverness!) to grapple with a life-threatening situation is explicitly encouraged by God in a different incident – the election of David by the prophet Shmuel. Shmuel is fearful for his life, and God directs him how to overcome the danger.

God said to Shmuel: “Until when will you mourn for Shaul after I have rejected him from being king over Israel? Fill your horn with oil and I am sending to Yishai from Bet Lehem, for I have seen amongst his sons for me a king.” Shmuel responded: “How can I go? When Shaul hears he will kill me!” God said: “Take a calf with you, and you can say ‘I have come to slaughter to God.’ At the slaughter you will call to Yishai, and I will inform you what to do, and you will anoint for me the one whom I shall tell you.” (I Sam. 16:1-3)

Conclusion

We chose this example because it is commonly understood as the first moral stumbling by our forefathers. (We should note that while the early commentaries do not hesitate to challenge Avraham’s behavior, none look at the depravity of the culture in which they were operating in which a stranger needed to fear for his life. That double-standard is one with which Jews are all too familiar!) We examined the text, both for itself and its broader context. We concluded that in the complex and dangerous situations in which Avram and Sarai found themselves, the path they chose had the greatest possibility to avoid the worst threat without harming anyone else.

A simple, close reading of the text shed light on a portion begging for answers, allowed us to understand anew our ancestors’ behavior, and revealed how one can approach a moral-existential problem in the Bible appropriately.