Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayishlach

In Parshat Vayishlach, Yaakov's beloved wife Rachel dies while giving birth to her second son, who will be called Binyamin. Of the four mothers of the Jewish people, Sarah, Rivkah, Rachel, and Leah, Rachel is seen in some ways as the most "motherly" - unlike the other matriarchs, she is not buried in Hebron in the Cave of Machpela with her husband, but is buried alone, on the road, not far from Jerusalem, near Bet Lechem. It is from there that our tradition sees her weeping for her exiled children, and praying for their return to Zion. The prophet Jeremiah (chapter 14),  describes her expressions of sorrow at our exile, and tells her to stop her eyes from weeping, as her prayers will be answered, and her children will return to Zion.  I would like to take a look at Rachel in what is seen as her defining role - that of the mother of the Jewish people.

Rachel's relationship to that role is anything but simple or straightforward. In last week's parsha, Vayetza, we are told that Rachel is barren. Jealous of her older sister, Leah, who was sneakily married first to Yaakov, in spite of his love for Rachel, and already has children with him, she dramatically asks Yaakov for offspring:  "And Rachel saw that she did not give birth with Yaakov, and Rachel was jealous of her sister, and she said to Yaakov, 'bring me sons, for if not I am dead'". Yaakov is not happy with this attitude and approach: "And Yaakov was angry at Rachel, and he said, 'am I in place of God, who has prevented you from having fruit of the womb?'" Rachel goes on to ask Yaakov to at least have children with her maidservant, Bilha, as a kind of surrogate, which he does.

The Rabbis wonder about Yaakov's negative reaction to Rachel's request. After all, his father Yitzchak prayed for his barren wife, Rivkah, to give birth, why could he not do so for Rachel? Broadly, the answer seems to be that Yaakov was put off by Rachel's attitude, and I think it is pretty clear why.

First of all, her desire for children is describeed as stemming from her jealousy of her sister, certainly not a healthy reason to do anything, much less have children. Secondly, her request seems oddly self-centered, in that she threatens or predicts death for herself if she has no children - again, definitely not the way to start a family. This would seem to be what Yaakov is thinking when he does not pray for an end to her barren state - she has not shown that she is ready to be a mother. 

When she finally does get pregnant, and gives birth to Yosef, we feel no better about her attitude. When he is born she says אסף ה' את חרפתי  - meaning that by giving me this child God has gathered in, or hidden, my shame. She then calls the boy Yosef, saying יוסף ה' לי בן אחר - may God add to me another son. All in all, a strange response to this longed-for birth: she sees the child as a way to improve her position, to hide her shame at being barren, and, rather than focusing on the child who has been born, she instead names him for her desire to have another one!

Rashi quotes a midrash on this verse which makes matters even worse. As an alternative to the explanation that Rachel's shame was about her barrenness, which has now been erased by the birth of the boy, Rashi tells us that having a son diminishes a different kind of shame altogether: a mother knows that if she makes a mistake, say, breaks a dish at home, or eats some tasty morsel before her husband can get to it, she can always take the blame off herself and put it on her son: No, I didn't break the dish, your son did; I didn't eat those figs you wanted, your son did. This is a remarkably childish understanding of Rachel's shame and its removal, and a terribly cynical view of the joys of parenting. What can this strange Midrash about the child as blame-taker possibly mean about Rachel as a mother, and why does Rashi choose to quote it?

The climax of Rachel's life as a mother comes in our parsha, Vayishlach. She is pregnant again, but, tragically, has difficulty with the birth. Knowing she is about to die, she names this second son Ben Oni - the son of my sorrow, my mourning, referring to her imminent death. Yaakov, however, does not accept this negative name, and renames him Binyamin, which can mean either 'son of my old age' or 'son of my strong right hand' - a much more positive name with which to go through life.

Putting these elements together, one is struck by what looks like Rachel's problematic relationship to her motherhood: she seems self-centered, almost narcissistic, in her desire for, and relationship to, her children. It is all about her, her position vis a vis her sister and the other women around her. Her children bear names that are about her - Yosef expreses her desire for more offspring, and Ben Oni her sadnesss at the horrible price she will pay to give him life. Rashi's quoting the weird 'I didn't do it, your son did' midrash is simply an exaggerated expression of this self-centered attitude. Yaakov sees this, reprimands her for her selfish attitude, refuses to pray for her to be a mother, and later changes the name she has given to her second child to the more positive, less all-about-Rachel, Binyamin.

And yet, as I said above, Rachel is universally known as רחל אימנו - Rachel our mother, singled out by Jeremiah as the caring mother of the Jewish people, in spite of the problems we see that she had with that role. Why should this be so?

Clearly, the self-centered approach Rachel had to becoming a mother is misguided.  We should have children for their sake, in order to raise healthy, happy, productive human beings, to move the human project, and, for us, as Jews, the Jewish project, forward. Our children should not be pawns in some sort of competitive game with others, or the way we make ourselves feel whole, they, and their needs, should be the reasons we have them.  In addition to Rachel's problematic relationship to motherhood, we also have the tragedy of her tense relationship with her husband and her sister around these issues, and her early death in childbirth: she never got to be much of a mother to the two children she did finally have.

It is perhaps precisely these failings and tragedies which explain Rachel's subsequent role as the loving and beloved mother of the Jewish people. Her love for her children, for us, may well be rooted in her recognition, at the end, of how badly it all went during her life, how wrong she got it, her regret over  that, and her longing for a better relationship with her children. In life, pressured by the tragic position in which she found herself vis a vis her sister Leah, and the competition for the love of Yaakov, the man who was meant to marry only her, she couldn't get her interaction with her children right. In death, after having lost all that she ever wanted, humbled by that experience, having learned from that experience, Rachel, our mother, now offers only unconditional love to the Jewish people, weeping over the trials of our exile, rejoicing over our return home.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Shimon Felix