Thursday 16 December 2021

ויחי

The Homecoming of Yosef

Whilst in Egypt, Yosef retains (and even develops) his moral and religious integrity. This is apparent from his rejection of Potiphar's wife's advances and the religious tone discernible in all his interactions. No person in Tanach mentions God more than Yosef as he continuously attributes life's circumstances and his own abilities to God. What is less apparent – at least until right at the end of his life - is his connection to the covenant and the land of Israel. Over the hundreds of verses dealing with Yosef we seldom hear of any sentiment for the land of Israel. He actively encourages his family to descend to Egypt, advertising the economic benefits, his personal success, and the protectzia they will enjoy as a result of his own position and power. He is similarly quick to assure them they will be able to live an insular life in Goshen and thereby mitigate the threat of assimilation. Yet there is no express mention that it will be a temporary stay and no reference to a return to the land of Israel. This sharply contrasts with Yaakov who is fearful to descend to Egypt and receives reassurance from God that he will descend with them and then return with them to Israel (see Gen. 46:4).

The tension around Yosef's identity is highlighted by the fact that the word bayit appears over and over again from the moment Yosef arrives in Egypt. He is moved from Potiphar's house to the jail, and from jail to the palace. Despite the differences in settings, each one is referred to as a bayit:

וַיְמָאֵן וַיֹּאמֶר אֶל־אֵשֶׁת אֲדֹנָיו הֵן אֲדֹנִי לֹא־יָדַע אִתִּי מַה־בַּבָּיִת וְכֹל אֲשֶׁר־יֶשׁ־לוֹ נָתַן בְּיָדִי׃ (בראשית לט:ח)

כִּי אִם־זְכַרְתַּנִי אִתְּךָ כַּאֲשֶׁר יִיטַב לָךְ וְעָשִׂיתָ־נָּא עִמָּדִי חָסֶד וְהִזְכַּרְתַּנִי אֶל־פַּרְעֹה וְהוֹצֵאתַנִי מִן־הַבַּיִת הַזֶּה׃ (מ:יד)

אַתָּה תִּהְיֶה עַל־בֵּיתִי וְעַל־פִּיךָ יִשַּׁק כָּל־עַמִּי רַק הַכִּסֵּא אֶגְדַּל מִמֶּךָּ: (מ:מא)

The impression is that Yosef is on a search for a new identity and belonging having been traumatically evicted from the family home. Seemingly, his search comes to an end when he is invited into the palace and successfully interprets Pharaoh's dream. Pharaoh takes him out the 'pit' (as the jail is referred to – see 41:14), brings him into his home, and provides him with clothes. This is the inverse of the actions of his own family who took away his clothes and threw him into the pit.[1] Pharaoh gives him a new name and finds him a wife, as a parent would be expected to do. The name given to his eldest son does indeed suggest Yosef has found a new home to replace his old one:

וַיִּקְרָא יוֹסֵף אֶת־שֵׁם הַבְּכוֹר מְנַשֶּׁה כִּי־נַשַּׁנִי אֱלֹהִים אֶת־כָּל־עֲמָלִי וְאֵת כָּל־בֵּית אָבִי׃ (מא:נא)

Nevertheless, when Yosef finally reveals himself and says 'is my father still alive' his purpose is to make it clear that he has not forgotten his family. Yaakov remains his true father and Yosef retains his loyalty to him.[2]

Only right at the end of Yosef's life do we learn that he has also not forgotten the land and the covenant. The final words of Yosef are the first time he speaks of a return to the land:

וַיֹּאמֶר יוֹסֵף אֶל־אֶחָיו אָנֹכִי מֵת וֵאלֹהִים פָּקֹד יִפְקֹד אֶתְכֶם וְהֶעֱלָה אֶתְכֶם מִן־הָאָרֶץ הַזֹּאת אֶל־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּע לְאַבְרָהָם לְיִצְחָק וּלְיַעֲקֹב׃ (נ:כד)

The fact that we (the readers) are left in suspense until right at the end of his life serves to accentuate how Yosef had to shield his true identity from his environment. His self-identity is hidden from us as it would have been to his Egyptian surroundings. The literary form thus reflects the motif and reinforces the significance of the challenge Yosef faced.[3]

Remember, remember…

Why was it specifically Yosef who was chosen to deliver the message of the covenant and the future redemption? The answer seems to lie in Yosef's proven ability to maintain his faith and identity in times of exile as alluded to above. But what was his strategy to accomplish this? The Torah devotes significant attention to Yosef's skill in navigating the years of famine through his prudent policies. This is not just economically shrewd, but reflective of an underlying quality of character. The plan to fill the storehouses in the years of plenty requires foresight, planning and most importantly, discipline. Through this plan and its successful implementation, Yosef demonstrates how to actively preserve the achievements of the present in order to persevere through future adversity.

We have previously discussed how Yosef realised certain things about Pharaoh's dream which Pharaoh missed. Yosef saw the lean cows and the fat cows standing side by side which appears in the original narration of the dream but not in Pharaoh's recollection. Yosef's plan takes its cue from this detail by integrating the years of plenty into the years of famine. Similarly, Pharaoh panics at the image of the lean cows consuming the fat cows and remaining unchanged, whilst Yosef's interpretation ignores this fatalistic imposition (which is again not present in the objective narration of the dreams). Yosef's plan shows how the lean cows consuming the fat cows can be understood as holding the key to survival if interpreted in terms of sustenance.

Yosef's ability to integrate past, present and future translates into other areas as well. Yosef knows how to dream and to remember his dream:

וַיִּזְכֹּר יוֹסֵף אֵת הַחֲלֹמוֹת אֲשֶׁר חָלַם לָהֶם (מב:ט)

Aside from God he is the only person in the Torah of who it is stated 'he remembered'. As with the cases where God remembers, Yosef remembering his dream is a trigger for action. He recalls the past to navigate the present.[4]

When faced with the challenging circumstances in Potiphar's house, his discipline and loyalty to his master save him from sin:

אֵינֶנּוּ גָדוֹל בַּבַּיִת הַזֶּה מִמֶּנִּי וְלֹא־חָשַׂךְ מִמֶּנִּי מְאוּמָה כִּי אִם־אוֹתָךְ בַּאֲשֶׁר אַתְּ־אִשְׁתּוֹ וְאֵיךְ אֶעֱשֶׂה הָרָעָה הַגְּדֹלָה הַזֹּאת וְחָטָאתִי לֵאלֹהִים׃ (לט:ט)

The Talmud, which Rashi references, is also noteworthy for its emphasis on Yosef's loyalty:

וַתִּתְפְּשֵׂהוּ בְּבִגְדוֹ לֵאמֹר וְגוֹ׳ בְּאוֹתָהּ שָׁעָה בָּאתָה דְּיוֹקְנוֹ שֶׁל אָבִיו וְנִרְאֲתָה לוֹ בַּחַלּוֹן (סוטה לו:)

Loyalty is a quality borne out of a deep attachment to relationships forged in the past. This quality was glaringly absent from the butler who conveniently 'forgets' about Yosef. But for Yosef, loyalty is central to his being. Wherever he goes, he is appointed to positions of responsibility owing to his loyalty and trustworthiness.

Yosef thus shows he is adept at foreseeing and withstanding challenging times by anchoring himself to memory of the past. His foresight informs his present actions whist his discipline and loyalty keep him on track as the events unfold. As one who is able to retain his deepest loyalties through the most difficult times, Yosef fully comprehends that God too will retain his loyalty to the nation and the covenant. He is therefore uniquely qualified to deliver the message that 'God will be sure to remember you (פקד יפקד)'.

Outside of this context (and the connected reference in Ex. 3:16), the only other time in the Torah where this root doubles up is where Yosef suggests to Pharaoh how to plan for the years of famine:[5]

יַעֲשֶׂה פַרְעֹה וְיַפְקֵד פְּקִדִים עַל־הָאָרֶץ וְחִמֵּשׁ אֶת־אֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם בְּשֶׁבַע שְׁנֵי הַשָּׂבָע׃ (מא:לד)

Yosef, who understands the need to store the grain so that the years of plenty provide for the lean years, similarly understands the need to furnish a vision of redemption to provide hope to the nation during the exile. He does so by making them swear to take his bones up to Israel when the time of redemption arrives. Yosef's bones thus become a powerful symbol for the future reflecting his unwavering belief that such a day will arrive. The last verse in the book of Bereishit tells us of a final act of storage. Yosef's body is embalmed and placed in a coffin in Egypt. Yosef dies but the vision he created is preserved: 

וַיָּמָת יוֹסֵף בֶּן־מֵאָה וָעֶשֶׂר שָׁנִים וַיַּחַנְטוּ אֹתוֹ וַיִּישֶׂם בָּאָרוֹן בְּמִצְרָיִם׃ (נ:כו)[6]

Thus, the exile follows the same pattern as Pharaoh's dreams. Just as Pharaoh feared that the lean years will cause the years of plenty to be forgotten, so the 'new' Pharaoh forgets the good which Joseph did. However, just as Yosef found a way to ensure that the years of plenty were remembered in the years of famine, so too he successfully perpetuates the memory of the covenant to sustain the nation in exile. In the end it is the reverberating echo of Yosef's words which awaken the people to the forthcoming redemption:

לֵךְ וְאָסַפְתָּ אֶת־זִקְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵי אֲבֹתֵיכֶם נִרְאָה אֵלַי אֱלֹהֵי אַבְרָהָם יִצְחָק וְיַעֲקֹב לֵאמֹר פָּקֹד פָּקַדְתִּי אֶתְכֶם וְאֶת־הֶעָשׂוּי לָכֶם בְּמִצְרָיִם׃ (שמות ג:טז)

מִכֵּיוָן שֶׁתֹּאמַר לָהֶם לָשׁוֹן זֶה, יִשְׁמְעוּ לְקוֹלְךָ, שֶׁכְּבָר סִימָן זֶה מָסוּר בְּיָדָם מִיַּעֲקֹב וּמִיּוֹסֵף, שֶׁבְּלָשׁוֹן זֶה הֵם נִגְאָלִים, יַעֲקֹב אָמַר לָהֶם "וֵאלֹהִים פָּקֹד יִפְקֹד אֶתְכֶם" (בראשית נ'), יוֹסֵף אָמַר לָהֶם "פָּקֹד יִפְקֹד אֱלֹהִים אֶתְכֶם" (שם): (רש"י, שמות ג:יח)[7]

 

 



[1] For our purposes we need not labour the point as to whether Yosef thought his father was part of the conspiracy.

[2] The suggestion that Yosef's rhetorical flush – 'is my father still alive' – shows his connection to his family obtains support from Moshe's use of an almost identical expression at the pivotal moment when he decides to take leave of Jethro to rejoin his brethren in Egypt (noting this is but one of many parallels between Yosef and Moshe's early life):

וַיֵּלֶךְ מֹשֶׁה וַיָּשָׁב אֶל־יֶתֶר חֹתְנוֹ וַיֹּאמֶר לוֹ אֵלְכָה נָּא וְאָשׁוּבָה אֶל־אַחַי אֲשֶׁר־בְּמִצְרַיִם וְאֶרְאֶה הַעוֹדָם חַיִּים וַיֹּאמֶר יִתְרוֹ לְמֹשֶׁה לֵךְ לְשָׁלוֹם׃ (שמות יד:יח)

[3] With Yosef's hiding of his identity from his brothers we are similarly not too sure of his plan until he reveals himself.

[4] This reminds me of an interesting quote from R. 'Joseph' Soloveitchik:

man is bound to the past, nonetheless, he must anticipate the future and take all actions necessary to ensure that continuity. The past requires a future, and the future requires a past. Had Jews not identified with both the past and the future, the Jewish people could not have survived. People often say incorrectly and sarcastically,

העבר אין, העתיד עדיין, ההווה כהרף אין, אם כן דאגה מנייו

The past is remote, the future has not yet occurred, the present is fleeting, why, then, should one be concerned? Yahadus disagrees. Yahadus proposes:

העבר יש, והעתיד יש, וההווה גשר המקשר את העבר ואת העתיד

The past exists. The future exists. The present is the bridge between the past and the future. Therefore, one should be concerned. (Source: https://seforimblog.com/2010/11/whence-worry-on-murky-trail-of-aphoris/ )

[5] The only other places in Tanach where the phrase appears is Esther 2:3 in reference to the gathering of the women of Persia for the pleasure of the king. This is an intended wordplay on the grain storage in the Yosef story and serves to criticise the objectification of women in Persia.

[6] Perhaps the emphasis on embalming also reflects the theme of preservation which is so integral to Yosef's character. It should be noted that it was Yosef who requested that they embalm Yaakov.

[7] The Torah does not in fact record Yaakov as saying these words. See Ramban who attempts a difficult defence of Rashi. Ramban himself points out that in the source Midrash of the Shemot Rabbah the phrase is never attributed to Yaakov.


Thursday 2 December 2021

מקץ

The Goblet and the Terafim

When Rachel steals the terafim from Lavan the Torah is silent in relation to the motive. Basing himself on Midrash Rabbah, Rashi characteristically defends Rachel's actions explaining that the purpose of the theft was to distance her father from idolatry.[1] R. Chananel (quoted by R. Bachya) also goes in this direction and equates the bold actions of Rachel to the actions of Gidon when he destroyed the Baal altar belonging to his father, Yoash. Yoash defends his son against the mob arguing that the Baal's inability to fight his own cause is evidence of his powerlessness (a story which no doubt inspired the Midrash of Avraham's destruction of Terach's idols). Rachel too was trying to demonstrate the ineffectiveness of the terafim through the theft. The story ends tragically. Yaakov doesn't realise that that Rachel has taken the terafim and unwittingly curses her, thereby causing her premature death.

There are a number of glaring difficulties with this approach. First and foremost, there is no hint to such a motive in the text and the silence of the Torah on the matter suggests that the purpose was simple and self-evident. Second, if stealing the terafim was to distance them from her father she should have destroyed them and not retained them. Third, there would have been little reason for Rachel to hide her actions from Yaakov if this was indeed her noble intent. Fourth, the fact that an unintentional curse should have the power to kill someone does not square well with the Torah's generally rational approach to reward and punishment. Finally, when they arrive in Bet-El, Yaakov commands the family members to dispose of their 'foreign gods'. Though most of the commentators assume this relates exclusively to the idolatrous items from the booty of Shechem, the plain sense seems broader bringing the terafim within scope (and perhaps the veiled focus) of the instruction.[2] One might be inclined to push back on one or more of these points but together they seem quite compelling.

Most commentators (including Ramban, Rashbam, Radak, and Abarbanel) favour the approach of the Tanchuma that the purpose of the theft was to prevent Lavan from being able to utilise them to discover their escape or determine their whereabouts. This assumes the terafim were more an instrument of divination than idolatory (to the extent that such a distinction is valid) which would appear more consistent with other usages of terafim in Tanach, but we will leave this discussion for now.

The Ibn Ezra's 'secret' explanation

The Ibn Ezra also wonders why Rachel stole the terafim. He briefly references Rashi's view only to quickly discredit it based on the argument (mentioned above) that Rachel should have destroyed the terafim if that was her motive:

ויש אומרים שרחל גנבתם לבטל עבודת כוכבי' מאביה ואילו היה כן למה הוליכה אותם עמה ולא טמנם בדרך. והקרוב שהיה לבן אביה יודע מזלות ופחדה שאביה יסתכל במזלות לדעת אי זה דרך ברחו (אבן עזרא, בראשית לא:יט)

But then his preferred approach – namely that it was to prevent their use by Lavan – suffers the same problem. Why would Rachel have held on to the terafim rather than destroying them. As for the 'foreign gods' destroyed at Bet-El, Ibn Ezra makes the following remark:

חלילה חלילה שישכב הנביא עם עובדת אלהי נכר. ופירושו תמצאנו בפרשת וילך משה: (אבן עזרא, בראשית לה:ב)

Given this strong statement, I was surprised to find a radically different view attributed to the Ibn Ezra.  In a commentary known as Peirush Ha-shelishi written by his close student R. Yosef b. R. Yaakov of Moudeville and based on the Ibn Ezra's oral teachings, the 'foreign gods' destroyed at Bet-El are identified with the Mesopotamian gods carried over from the house of Lavan:  

כי עד עתה לא אמ' להם זה והנה רחל גנבה את התרפים אשר לאביה, כי על תורת אביהם היו כולם, הנשים והבנים, וככה כת' שם: "אלהי אברהם ואלהי נחור ישפטו בנינו אלהי אבהם"

Given the contradictory views, it has been suggested that Ibn Ezra masked his real view to prevent censorship of his work within the community.[3] Whilst it is certainly the case that Ibn Ezra obscured his more controversial comments, in this case there is no allusion or obscurity. In any event, whatever Ibn Ezra's intention when writing his initial commentary, his view as articulated by his student is clear, and he is not alone.[4]

As shocking as it seems, the plain sense is that Rachel did indeed seek to take the terafim for personal use or protection.[5] Such is generally the purpose of any act of 'theft' which is the description given to Rachel's actions. One of the advantages of this explanation, aside from its simplicity, is it creates an important follow up from Yaakov's earlier theft of the blessings (initiated by Rivka - Rachel's aunt). Yaakov's belief that a blessing procured through deceit still retains its value was based on an erroneous assumption that a blessing contains objective power. As we have discussed elsewhere, most of Yaakov's travails in the house of Lavan, his wrestle with the angel, and his reunion with Esav are geared towards correcting this act of deceit and the underlying philosophy which caused it.[6] Ultimately, Yaakov realises he has no use for a stolen blessing and returns it to Esav (see Bereishit 33:13).  

In the same way that the stolen blessings provide no benefits for Yaakov, the terafim achieve nothing for Rachel. Lavan was clearly capable of tracking them down and the Torah makes it clear that were it not for God's intervention Lavan could and would have harmed them.[7]

As Yaakov proceeds to lambast Lavan for his deceitful behaviour over the years (and rightly so), the reader is left in the uncomfortable position that on this occasion Lavan speaks the truth and has the moral high ground. The suspense as Lavan searches through the tents recalls the suspense of Yitzchak's near detection of Yaakov. The root משש is used to describe Yitzchak feeling Yaakov, and also for Lavan's rummaging through the tents. Both are acts of deception of a child to a father. There are plenty of other textual allusions as well but the above will suffice for our purposes. In the end there is a tragic irony in that Yaakov wished to procure an unintentional blessing, yet it turned out to be Yaakov's unwitting curse of Rachel which in the end appears to have been fulfilled:

למה מתה רחל תחילה?... על דעתה דרבי יוסי לא מתה אלא מקללתו של זקן, שנאמר "עִם אֲשֶׁר תִּמְצָא אֶת אֱלהֶיךָ לא יִחְיֶה" והיה 'כשגגה היוצאה מלפני השליט' (בראשית רבה ע"ד)[8]

One need not accept that this was the real cause of her death, but it seems the association of her death with the terafim incident is well founded and turns the tables on what Yaakov originally sought to gain from stealing the blessing.

Binyamin's 'theft' and Yehudah's courage

This leads us to our parashah where Yosef's accusations about the goblet recalls the episode of the terafim. In both cases an item is 'stolen' by one member of the departing family without the knowledge of the other members. The alleged victim and the stolen article in both cases, are linked with divination.

וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו לָבָן אִם־נָא מָצָאתִי חֵן בְּעֵינֶיךָ נִחַשְׁתִּי וַיְבָרֲכֵנִי יְהוָה בִּגְלָלֶךָ׃ (בראשית ל:כז)
וַיֹּאמֶר לָהֶם יוֹסֵף מָה־הַמַּעֲשֶׂה הַזֶּה אֲשֶׁר עֲשִׂיתֶם הֲלוֹא יְדַעְתֶּם כִּי־נַחֵשׁ יְנַחֵשׁ אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר כָּמֹנִי׃ (מד:טו)

The chasing down of the thief is described in similar language:

קוּם רְדֹף אַחֲרֵי הָאֲנָשִׁים וְהִשַּׂגְתָּם... וַיַּשִּׂגֵם וַיְדַבֵּר אֲלֵהֶם אֶת־הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה׃ (מד:ד-ו)
וַיִּקַּח אֶת־אֶחָיו עִמּוֹ וַיִּרְדֹּף אַחֲרָיו... וַיַּשֵּׂג לָבָן אֶת־יַעֲקֹב וְיַעֲקֹב תָּקַע אֶת־אָהֳלוֹ בָּהָר וְלָבָן תָּקַע אֶת־אֶחָיו בְּהַר הַגִּלְעָד׃ (לא:כג-כה)

There is a denial and 'death' curse/punishment placed on the thief if the stolen item is found on them:

אֲשֶׁר יִמָּצֵא אִתּוֹ מֵעֲבָדֶיךָ וָמֵת וְגַם־אֲנַחְנוּ נִהְיֶה לַאדֹנִי לַעֲבָדִים (מד:ט)
עִם אֲשֶׁר תִּמְצָא אֶת־אֱלֹהֶיךָ לֹא יִחְיֶה (לא:לב)

There is a search from oldest to youngest for the stolen article:

וַיָּבֹא לָבָן בְּאֹהֶל יַעֲקֹב וּבְאֹהֶל לֵאָה וּבְאֹהֶל שְׁתֵּי הָאֲמָהֹת וְלֹא מָצָא וַיֵּצֵא מֵאֹהֶל לֵאָה וַיָּבֹא בְּאֹהֶל רָחֵל (לא:לג)
וַיְחַפֵּשׂ בַּגָּדוֹל הֵחֵל וּבַקָּטֹן כִּלָּה וַיִּמָּצֵא הַגָּבִיעַ בְּאַמְתַּחַת בִּנְיָמִן (מד:יב)

Finally, in response to the accusation there is an impassioned speech from the leader of the group (Yaakov/Yehudah) reviewing the history of the relationship to show the injustice they have suffered at the expense of the other party. In both cases, this represents a turning point where the weaker party for the first time stands up to their oppressor and causes them to back down.

The crucial difference is that Yosef's accusation was false as he had the goblet planted in Binyamin's bag, whereas Rachel did in fact steal the terafim. Furthermore, the goblet was found whilst Lavan did not succeed in finding the terafim. Yehuda takes responsibility for something he did not do, whilst Rachel remains silent about a crime she has committed.

If Rachel failed to break the pattern of deceit which had plagued the family until now, then it was specifically Yehuda the son of Leah who manages to turn the tide by assuming responsibility for what has transpired (covertly in terms of the sale of Yosef – see v.17 - and overtly in terms of his pledge to his father to look after Binyamin). Yehudah had every excuse in the world to walk away from the scene in view of the circumstances. The Midrash which sensed the connection with the earlier story of the terafim, describes the cynical reaction of the brothers:

וימצא הגביע באמתחת בנימן, כיון שנמצא הגביע אמרו לו מה גנבא בר גנבתא (בראשית רבה, פרשה צב)

Nevertheless, Yehuda sacrifices himself for his brother (a son of Rachel) over a sin not committed. As a result, Yehudah can take the moral high ground to challenge Yosef. Furthermore, it is this act which finally breaks the circle of hate and sibling rivalry so characteristic of sefer Bereishit until this point. Yehudah's role model in this regard was none other than Tamar who taught Yehudah to declare 'she is more righteous than me'. It is no coincidence that the backdrop to the Tamar story is one of Yibum, whose very essence is to do with brotherly responsibility. Through Tamar, Yehudah gives birth to a son who will be the forebearer of David HaMelech (after yet another Yibum related story). Like Yehudah, David will also initially conspire to cover his tracks following an affair but ultimately realises his error and acknowledge his sin. In the Torah's ideal the king is someone who recognises his fallibility and has the moral courage to admit when he's wrong and take personal responsibility.

 

 

 

 



[1] Prof. Avraham Grossman's argues that Rashi's unrivalled defence of the patriarchs and matriarchs and the avoidance of any criticism of their actions was part of Rashi's polemic against Christianity. The Christians typically sought to identify and highlight such flaws opening the door to Christian supersessionism (Rashi, p.105-106). 

[2] The Midrash Sechel Tov interprets it in this way and sees Rachel as having an affinity to the terafim:

הסרו - חסר י' לימד שלא היו שאר נשיו חשודות בכך, זולתי רחל על תרפי לבן... ויתנו ליעקב את כל אלהי הנכר אשר בידם. של עבדים שהסתירו מבית שכם, וגם התרפים שביד רחל

[3] See Dr. Avigail Rock z"l's discussion on the "secrets" in the Ibn Ezra's commentary here.

[4] See Midrash Sechel Tov (fn. 1). This is also the view of Shadal:

אמנם התרפים נ"ל שהם כלים שהיו קוסמים בהם לדעת העתידות והנסתרות, והיו נקראים אלהים, לא שהיו עובדים אותם ממש, אלא שהיו חושבים שהאל או האלילים משפיעים על הכלים ההם ומודיעים הנסתרות על ידם (קרוב לענין העגל שעשו ישראל, והעגלים שעשה ירבעם, ופסל מיכה), ורחל גנבתם כי האמינה בהם אעפ"י שלא היתה עובדת ע"ז, כי סוף סוף לא היו אלא כעין גורל, והיה אותו כלי מורכב מחלקים רבים, והיו השואלים מנענעים אותם בדרכים ידועים, ולפי מה שהיה יוצא במקרה ע"י הנענוע ההוא היו שופטים כי האל השיב כך וכך, ואין זו ע"ז כי אם לפי מחשבת השואל אם הוא מאמין שהתשובה באה לו מהאלילים ולא מאל יחיד.

[5] This view has also been advanced by scholars based on references in Josephus and data from the Ancient Near East. Others have suggested more convoluted theories. See article here by Moshe Greenberg

[6] See further discussion in earlier post.

[7] Prof. Jonathan Grossman, Yaakov – Sippuro Shel Massa, p.311-314. 

[8] R. Yehuda Rock (see here) and R. Amnon Bazak (Nekudat Peticha p.84-85) see in the naming of Binyamin (ben-oni) at the time of Rachel's death an expression of teshuvah for the terafim episode based on the verse: כִּי הַתְּרָפִים דִּבְּרוּ־אָוֶן (זכריה י:ב)

 

Thursday 30 September 2021

בראשית

The Descent or Ascent of Man?

The story of the Garden of Eden is one of the most cryptic and enigmatic in the Torah which has led to wide ranging interpretations over its symbolism and meaning.

A common view is that man's spiritual status was tainted by the sin of eating from the Tree of Knowledge. This takes its most forceful expression in the Christian doctrine of the Original Sin in which humanity exists in a state of sin ever since.[1] In its milder form, whereby the emphasis is on the tendency to sin rather than automatic guilt, various counterparts can be found in Jewish mystical thought.[2] On the rational end of the spectrum, Rambam understood the sin as resulting in a weakening of the intellect giving rise to a world of moral ambiguity governed by social norms.[3] Ibn Ezra on the other hand, saw it more specifically as awakening the sexual desire.[4]

The underlying basis of these approaches is that eating of the Tree of Knowledge was prohibited by God and therefore may be assumed to have resulted in some form of spiritual impairment. There is no doubt that the story presents the archetype sin between man and God, and this element cannot be ignored.[5] Nevertheless, there appears to be an inevitability in the story which ought to modify, or at least supplement, our perception of the 'sin' and its consequences.

Did God anticipate that man would eat from the Tree of Knowledge?

To address this question, it is necessary to look back at the description of man in Chapter 1. Day 6 of creation already has man and woman created together with the instruction (or blessing) to be fruitful and multiply. This is surprising as the creation of woman and the process of childbirth described in Chapter 2 are reported as consequential developments; the need for man to have a companion in the case of the former, and replacement for immortality, in the latter. Much ink has been spilt on dealing with the inconsistencies between Chapters 1 and 2 and that is not the topic of this post. For our purposes I mention this point simply to highlight the fact that the developments in Chapter 2 are hardly unexpected and the regression from Chapter 1 creates an atmosphere of inevitability.

More significantly though, is the internal evidence within Chapter 2 that man was not destined to stay in the Garden:

וְכֹל שִׂיחַ הַשָּׂדֶה טֶרֶם יִהְיֶה בָאָרֶץ וְכָל־עֵשֶׂב הַשָּׂדֶה טֶרֶם יִצְמָח כִּי לֹא הִמְטִיר ה' אלוקים עַל־הָאָרֶץ וְאָדָם אַיִן לַעֲבֹד אֶת־הָאֲדָמָה׃ (בראשית ב:ה)

The implied purpose of man in Chapter 2 is to work the land without which there could be no vegetation. Sure enough, following the above verse we find that man was created:

וַיִּיצֶר ה' אלוקים אֶת־הָאָדָם עָפָר מִן־הָאֲדָמָה וַיִּפַּח בְּאַפָּיו נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים וַיְהִי הָאָדָם לְנֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה׃ (בראשית ב:ז)

Yet much to our surprise, Adam is not left to cultivate the land. Instead, he is transferred to the Garden of Eden where everything is ready grown and fully developed. God himself has planted the garden, by virtue of which it will become known as ’God’s garden’.[6] Adam's task is now merely to maintain the pristine condition of the garden: 

וַיִּטַּע ה' אלוקים גַּן־בְעֵדֶן מִקֶּדֶם וַיָּשֶׂם שָׁם אֶת־הָאָדָם אֲשֶׁר יָצָר׃ וַיִּקַּח ה' אלוקים אֶת־הָאָדָם וַיַּנִּחֵהוּ בְגַן־עֵדֶן לְעָבְדָהּ וּלְשָׁמְרָהּ׃ )בראשית ב:ח(

This narrow plane of existence clearly diverges from man's broader purpose as implied in the earlier verse. When Adam is eventually banished from the Garden he returns to his original mandate:

וַיֹּאמֶר ה' אלוקים הֵן הָאָדָם הָיָה כְּאַחַד מִמֶּנּוּ לָדַעַת טוֹב וָרָע וְעַתָּה פֶּן־יִשְׁלַח יָדוֹ וְלָקַח גַּם מֵעֵץ הַחַיִּים וְאָכַל וָחַי לְעֹלָם׃ וַיְשַׁלְּחֵהוּ ה' אלוקים מִגַּן־עֵדֶן לַעֲבֹד אֶת־הָאֲדָמָה אֲשֶׁר לֻקַּח מִשָּׁם׃ (בראשית ג:כב)

The words אשר לקח משם can be read in two possible ways. Either it is geographical in the sense that Adam is returned to the original place he was taken from (thus undoing God's act of 'taking' him when he was transferred to the Garden – see verse 2:8 above). Alternatively, it is descriptive of man's essence; God returns him to the location of the matter he was made (lit. taken) from (see verse 3:19). Under either interpretation, the implication is that man's natural habitat is on Earth as we know it rather than a celestial garden.[7]

If the return to the raw undeveloped world is an inevitable consequence, the natural conclusion is that the purpose of the story is to address why man is led through a life of struggle on Earth and not placed in the blissful Garden from the outset. It informs us why Eden – though it may be an ultimate destination – is not the departure point in life.

The image of God derived from the Tree of Knowledge

As mentioned, many classic commentators consider the Tree of Knowledge to have lowered the status of man from his borderline angelic standing. However, the inevitability of the outcome suggests a more positive reading in which it is specifically via the Tree of Knowledge that man discovers his uniqueness.

Consider the status of man before the sin. The lifeforce (נשמת חיים) breathed into man in Chapter 2 is what turns him into a 'נפש חיה'. In Chapter 1 this is precisely the term used to describe the animal kingdom:

וַיֹּאמֶר אלוקים תּוֹצֵא הָאָרֶץ נֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה לְמִינָהּ בְּהֵמָה וָרֶמֶשׂ וְחַיְתוֹ־אֶרֶץ לְמִינָהּ וַיְהִי־כֵן׃ (בראשית א:כד)

The distinguishing feature of man, so strikingly referred to in Chapter 1 as the צלם אלוקים, is glaringly absent in the description of man at the start of Chapter 2. The breath of life he receives merely puts him on par with the animals. It is therefore unsurprising that in seeking a soulmate the animals are considered in contention at first and the snake is portrayed as conversing and competing with Eve. The lack of shame at being naked produces another commonality as only an animal, or small child, lacking in self-awareness, would possess no such shame: 

וַיִּהְיוּ שְׁנֵיהֶם עֲרוּמִּים הָאָדָם וְאִשְׁתּוֹ וְלֹא יִתְבֹּשָׁשׁוּ׃ (בראשית ב:כה)

It is against this backdrop that we need to reconsider the symbolism of the Tree of Knowledge. The form of knowledge represented by the tree is described in a neutral manner as comprising the 'knowledge of good and bad'. Where the phrase is used elsewhere in the Torah it refers to a child who cannot conceptually distinguish between good and bad:

וְטַפְּכֶם אֲשֶׁר אֲמַרְתֶּם לָבַז יִהְיֶה וּבְנֵיכֶם אֲשֶׁר לֹא־יָדְעוּ הַיּוֹם טוֹב וָרָע הֵמָּה יָבֹאוּ שָׁמָּה וְלָהֶם אֶתְּנֶנָּה וְהֵם יִירָשׁוּהָּ׃ (דברים א:לט)

The ability to evaluate actions as either good or bad is predicated on a sophisticated self-awareness enabling one to contemplate one's own actions from the outside and engage in self-evaluation. Someone who lacks a sense of self has no means of perceiving their actions as either good or bad as they do not observe themselves separate to the environment.[8] They may have desires and feelings, but their responses are governed by instincts. The consequence is that such a person or thing lacks personal autonomy in the true sense as they do not identify their independent self. Conversely, only God as a result of His transcendence (not being contained within any other environment) can be regarded as perfectly autonomous.[9]

When the verse imputes God as saying that eating from the tree will make man 'like one of us', the meaning is that man will obtain that Godly quality of autonomy. Indeed, after eating from the tree they immediately sense their nakedness and are ashamed, a seemingly insignificant discovery, but highly symbolic of their newly acquired sense of self:

וַתִּפָּקַחְנָה עֵינֵי שְׁנֵיהֶם וַיֵּדְעוּ כִּי עֵירֻמִּם הֵם וַיִּתְפְּרוּ עֲלֵה תְאֵנָה וַיַּעֲשׂוּ לָהֶם חֲגֹרֹת׃ (בראשית ג:ז)

As an objective observer of one's own thoughts one can potentially make the necessary inferences to identify other autonomous agents and attribute one's own mental states (goals, intentions, beliefs, desires, feelings etc) to them. It facilitates the recognition of the 'other' and cognition of one's relationships with them.[10] Taking this one step further, self-awareness, and particularly self-reflection, becomes the gateway to God-awareness.   

This perspective corresponds well with the view of R. Yehudah who associates the Tree with the development of language and identity in a child:

אִילָן שֶׁאָכַל מִמֶּנּוּ אָדָם הָרִאשׁוֹן, רַבִּי מֵאִיר אוֹמֵר: גֶּפֶן הָיָה, שֶׁאֵין לְךָ דָּבָר שֶׁמֵּבִיא יְלָלָה עַל הָאָדָם אֶלָּא יַיִן, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״וַיֵּשְׁתְּ מִן הַיַּיִן וַיִּשְׁכָּר״. רַבִּי נְחֶמְיָה אוֹמֵר: תְּאֵנָה הָיְתָה, שֶׁבַּדָּבָר שֶׁנִּתְקַלְקְלוּ בּוֹ נִתַּקְּנוּ, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״וַיִּתְפְּרוּ עֲלֵה תְאֵנָה״. רַבִּי יְהוּדָה אוֹמֵר: חִטָּה הָיְתָה, שֶׁאֵין הַתִּינוֹק יוֹדֵעַ לִקְרוֹת ״אַבָּא״ וְ״אִמָּא״ עַד שֶׁיִּטְעוֹם טַעַם דָּגָן. (ברכות מ.)

For Adam and Eve, who had no biological parents, recognition of parent corresponds to recognition of God. Indeed, it is only after eating from the Tree that we see an awareness of God on the part of man (albeit in immature form) as they try to hide from God. Prior to this point there is no explicit dialogue.[11]   

What emerges from this is that eating from the Tree of Knowledge corresponds with the acquisition of the image of God. What was originally presented as the crowning glory of man in Chapter 1, is recast as a forbidden product of the Tree of Knowledge in Chapters 2 and 3.

This dual perspective presents the double-edged sword of being made in God's image. The climax of the six days of creation is the creation of a micro-creator who can imitate God's creative power on earth. In the creation story, the seventh day is when God steps back and hands over the reins to man. By exercising this power, he can become a partner with God and continue God's work. On the other hand, as an autonomous agent, man also competes with God. On the extreme, this can manifest in active denial of God,[12] but on a subtler level, the very notion of the self, creates inherent tension with God's unity. In order to create man in the image of God, He had to create philosophical space to enable his existence. In more practical terms, self-awareness facilitates the very notion of sin as, without knowledge of the self, concepts of good and bad are meaningless. For this reason, the acquisition of man's autonomy is allegorised in Chapter 2 as a story of sin as it is the source of sin itself.

Physical change vs self-discovery

Notwithstanding the symbolism of the Tree of Knowledge as described above, it does not seem to be the physical effect of the fruit alone through which man obtains his distinction. Rather, the innate but subconscious human need for self-autonomy is already reflected in the physical desire to partake of the Tree of Knowledge and is the very basis of man's attraction to it.

This means that the change of man's perspective after eating of the Tree is as much a consequence of a process of self-discovery from the act of sin itself, as it is the result of a physical change derived from the quality of the fruit. The rebellion within the story symbolises the discovery, and simultaneously the assertion, of the self. It is akin to a child that seeks to do something against their parent's wishes simply for the sake of asserting their independence. In the real world, the child's desire for self-autonomy will be expressed in an external object or event – they will want a certain thing which the parent will not provide, or to do something which the parent will not permit. In Genesis Chapters 2 and 3, however, the Torah exposes the raw spirit of humanity and therefore the object of desire represented by the Tree, is autonomy itself. 

To refine the earlier point, man is not identical to beast in Chapters 2 and 3 but is at the start of a journey of self-discovery as every child makes in life.[13] The Torah speaks the story of the elevation of man over animal through the model of a child maturing into an adult. At the onset of humanity, man undergoes a journey to discover his essence and uniqueness as he gradually steps out of his shell of naivety. By the end of the story he has become a fully conscious being and distinguished himself entirely from the animal kingdom.[14] He is now ready to leave God's garden to develop his own garden.

Knowledge of life

Based on the above it is understandable why the various consequences which Adam and Eve are informed about, are the key facts of life which a child is initially unaware of (but gradually acquires knowledge of): hard work required to produce food/provide sustenance; process and pain of childbirth; and, knowledge of one's own mortality.

הַרְבָּה אַרְבֶּה עִצְּבוֹנֵךְ וְהֵרֹנֵךְ בְּעֶצֶב תֵּלְדִי בָנִים וְאֶל־אִישֵׁךְ תְּשׁוּקָתֵךְ וְהוּא יִמְשָׁל־בָּךְ׃ (בראשית ג:טז)

בְּזֵעַת אַפֶּיךָ תֹּאכַל לֶחֶם עַד שׁוּבְךָ אֶל־הָאֲדָמָה כִּי מִמֶּנָּה לֻקָּחְתָּ כִּי־עָפָר אַתָּה וְאֶל־עָפָר תָּשׁוּב׃ (בראשית ג:יט)

Knowledge of these categories is indicative of a deep self-awareness as they cover the scope and boundaries of human life and potential. Cultivating land to produce vegetation and giving birth are the closest natural equivalents to God's own acts of creation, and death is the ultimate reminder of where the God-likeness ends. Man can create life but he himself is ultimately finite. Internalisation of these fundamentals is the pinnacle of self-awareness.

Quite remarkably, agriculture and food preparation, the central themes in our passage, are almost uniquely human traits.[15] The contrast with the snake which eats of the 'dust of the earth' is one of sophistication - raw versus prepared food. However, it is the cognition of these distinctions by Adam and Eve which are perhaps more important than the distinctions themselves. This cognitive aspect is reflective of the self-knowledge represented by the Tree of Knowledge. It is the creativity as well as the conscious enjoyment which the snake is deprived of.

In summary, the Tree of Knowledge represents the self-awareness which facilitates moral choice and God-consciousness. Simultaneously, this creates a need for self-realisation which is achieved through secondary acts of creation. Prohibiting access to the Tree of Knowledge is to separate man from his essence and therefore the 'sin' is inevitable. Without it, life is meaningless, even if one is immortal.

Continuing the symbolism of the Garden of Eden, the paradox of life is that man prefers to plant his own garden rather than live in God's garden. This causes man to suffer and is the source of sin, but it is also the reflection of the Divine image within him.


 


[1] 'The condition of man after the fall of Adam is such that he cannot turn and prepare himself by his own natural strength and works to faith and calling upon God' - Art. X, Free Will of the Thirty-nine Articles. 

The Torah commentary of R. Joseph Hertz (p.196) is at pains to emphasise Judaism's rejection of this doctrine:

One searches in vain the Prayer Book, of even the days of Penitence, for the slightest echo of the doctrine of the Fall of man. 'My God, the soul which Thou hast given me is pure,' is the Jew's daily morning prayer. 'Even as the soul is pure when entering upon its earthly career, so can man return it pure to his Maker' (Midrash).

[2] According to Nefesh HaChaim (R. Chaim Volozhin 1749-1821) the knowledge of good and bad vested in the Tree resulted in the conflation of good and bad within man. Needless to say, this assumes a wholly negative outcome:  

והענין כי קודם החטא. עם כי ודאי שהיה בעל בחירה גמור להטות עצמו לכל אשר יחפוץ להטיב או להיפך ח''ו. כי זה תכלית כוונת כלל הבריאה. וגם כי הרי אח''כ חטא. אמנם לא שהיה ענין בחירתו מחמת שכחות הרע היו כלולים בתוכו. כי הוא היה אדם ישר לגמרי כלול רק מסדרי כחות הקדושה לבד. וכל עניניו היו כולם ישרים קדושים ומזוככים טוב גמור. בלי שום עירוב ונטי' לצד ההיפך כלל. וכחות הרע היו עומדים לצד וענין בפ''ע חוץ ממנו. והיה בעל בחירה ליכנס אל כחות הרע ח''ו כמו שהאדם הוא בעל בחירה ליכנס אל תוך האש. לכן כשרצה הס''א להחטיאו הוצרך הנחש לבא מבחוץ לפתוח. לא כמו שהוא עתה שהיצר המפתה את האדם הוא בתוך האדם עצמו. ומתדמה להאדם שהוא עצמו הוא הרוצה ונמשך לעשות העון ולא שאחר חוץ ממנו מפתהו.

ובחטאו שנמשך אחר פתוי הס''א. אז נתערבו הכחות הרע בתוכו ממש. וכן בהעולמות. וזהו עץ הדעת טו''ר. שנתחברו ונתערבו בתוכו ובהעולמות הטוב והרע יחד זה בתוך זה ממש. כי דעת פי' התחברות כידוע. והענין מבואר למבין בע''ח שער קליפת נוגה פ''ב אלא שקיצר שם בענין. ועיין היטב בגלגולים פ''א. וזשרז''ל כשבא נחש על חוה הטיל בה זוהמא. ר''ל בתוכה ממש. ומאז גרם עי''ז ערבוביא גדולה במעשיו. שכל מעשי האדם המה בערבוביא והשתנות רבות מאד. פעם טוב ופעם רע. ומתהפך תמיד מטוב לרע ומרע לטוב. (נפש החיים שער א' פ"ו בהג"ה)

[3] Guide for the Perplexed (1:2):

Some years ago a learned man asked me a question of great importance… "It would at first sight," said the objector, "appear from Scripture that man was originally intended to be perfectly equal to the rest of the animal creation, which is not endowed with intellect, reason, or power of distinguishing between good and evil: but that Adam's disobedience to the command of God procured him that great perfection which is the peculiarity of man, viz., the power of distinguishing between good and evil-the noblest of all the faculties of our nature, the essential characteristic of the human race. It thus appears strange that the punishment for rebelliousness should be the means of elevating man to a pinnacle of perfection to which he had not attained previously. This is equivalent to saying that a certain man was rebellious and extremely wicked, wherefore his nature was changed for the better, and he was made to shine as a star in the heavens…

Collect your thoughts and examine the matter carefully, for it is not to be understood as you at first sight think, but as you will find after due deliberation; namely, the intellect which was granted to man as the highest endowment, was bestowed on him before his disobedience. With reference to this gift the Bible states that "man was created in the form and likeness of God." On account of this gift of intellect man was addressed by God, and received His commandments, as it is said: "And the Lord God commanded Adam" (Gen. 2:16)--for no commandments are given to the brute creation or to those who are devoid of understanding. Through the intellect man distinguishes between the true and the false. This faculty Adam possessed perfectly and completely. (M Friedlander translation)

Rambam goes on to describe how this faculty was lost in the process of the sin not just as a result of eating itself. This point will be discussed later on.

[4] Ibn Ezra (3:7)

[5] Hertz (ibid) describes it as follows:

Chapter III is one of the most beautiful in the Bible. It has been called 'pearl of Genesis', and men read with wonder its profound psychology of temptation and conscience. With unsurpassable art, it shows the beginning, the progress and the culmination of temptation and the consequences of sin. It depicts the earliest tragedy in the life of each human soul – the loss of man's happy, natural relation with God through deliberate disobedience of the voice of conscience, the voice of God. 'Every man who knows his own heart, knows that the story is true; it is the story of his own fall. Adam is man, and his story is ours’ (McFayden).

[6]

וַיִּשָּׂא־לוֹט אֶת־עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת־כָּל־כִּכַּר הַיַּרְדֵּן כִּי כֻלָּהּ מַשְׁקֶה לִפְנֵי שַׁחֵת ה׳ אֶת־סְדֹם וְאֶת־עֲמֹרָה כְּגַן־ה' כְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם בֹּאֲכָה צֹעַר׃ (בראשית יג:י)

כִּי־נִחַם ה' צִיּוֹן נִחַם כָּל־חָרְבֹתֶיהָ וַיָּשֶׂם מִדְבָּרָהּ כְּעֵדֶן וְעַרְבָתָהּ כְּגַן־ה' שָׂשׂוֹן וְשִׂמְחָה יִמָּצֵא בָהּ תּוֹדָה וְקוֹל זִמְרָה׃ (ישעיה נא:ג)                                                                                                                                            

[7] See Jonathan Grossman, Creation: The Story of Beginnings, p80-107 (Hebrew) for a similar analysis with further discussion and sources. 

[8] Modern psychology refers to this as Self-Awareness Theory. In its basic form, it is the idea that ‘you are not your thoughts, but the entity observing your thoughts; you are the thinker, separate and apart from your thoughts’ (Duval & Wicklund, 1972). The extent to which this attribute exists in parts of the animal kingdom is highly contentious. In any event, even if there is some form of sliding scale of consciousness, there appears to be a world of difference between recognising one's reflection in a mirror (the so-called MSR test) and the self-awareness in a human.

[9] The approach is similar but not identical to the Ramban (2:9):

והיפה בעיני כי האדם היה עושה בטבעו מה שראוי לעשות כפי התולדת כאשר יעשו השמים וכל צבאם פועלי אמת שפעולתם אמת ולא ישנו את תפקידם ואין להם במעשיהם אהבה או שנאה ופרי האילן הזה היה מוליד הרצון והחפץ שיבחרו אוכליו בדבר או בהפכו לטוב או לרע ולכן נקרא "עֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע" כי הַ"דַּעַת" יאמר בלשוננו על הרצון כלשונם (פסחים ו) לא שנו אלא שדעתו לחזור ושדעתו לפנותו ובלשון הכתוב (תהלים קמד ג) מָה אָדָם וַתֵּדָעֵהוּ תחפוץ ותרצה בו יְדַעְתִּיךָ בְשֵׁם (שמות לג יב) בחרתיך מכל האדם וכן מאמר ברזילי האדע בין טוב לרע שאבד ממנו כח הרעיון לא היה בוחר בדבר ולא קץ בו והיה אוכל מבלי שיטעם ושומע מבלי שיתענג בשיר והנה בעת הזאת לא היה בין אדם ואשתו המשגל לתאוה אבל בעת ההולדה יתחברו ויולידו ולכן היו האיברים כלם בעיניהם כפנים והידים ולא יתבוששו בהם והנה אחרי אכלו מן העץ היתה בידו הבחירה וברצונו להרע או להטיב בין לו בין לאחרים וזו מדה אלהית מצד אחד ורעה לאדם בהיות לו בה יצר ותאוה

Nechama Leibowitz (Studies in Genesis, 3:25) interprets R. Bahya (whose explanation is almost identical with the Ramban) as associating the Tree with the onset of conscious desire. It is not clear to me, however, that this is the intent of either R. Bahya or the Ramban who seem to include the acquisition of sensory experience in the shift from the pre-sin state of man. Nevertheless, they see this as part of the process of obtaining free will and view it as a potentially positive attribute.

[10] In a human, this stage of development (known as Theory of Mind) is associated with the development of language. This is particularly interesting in light of R. Yehuda's statement. 

Admittedly, Adam’s naming of the animals already indicates a comprehension of separate identities even prior to the sin. This overlap between the pre and post-sin state is discussed in the next section. 

[11] The centrality of self-awareness is also reflected in the cosmological view of the Rambam where each of the spheres are conscious of 'themselves', and conscious of the First Cause/God (and the separate intellect/angel which emanated them). See Yesodei HaTorah 3:9.  

[12] R. Kook writes about this in Shemonah Kvatzim (see 1:129)

[13] R. Mordecai Breuer (Pirkei Mo'adot I. p. 113) also applies the maturing child model. Avivah Zornberg (cited Grossman) notes that since Adam and Eve did not have biological parents, God is the parent in the story who experiences the parental conflict inherent in fostering a child’s independence on the one hand, and separating from them on the other. 

[14] Interestingly, the interaction with the animal kingdom remains until the aftermath of the flood and then disappears almost entirely.