In memory of Mr Paul Levene z’l (Pinchas Yosef Ben Shmuel)
We live in a society that worships apparent success, and hard work is pedestalled as the only way to get there. "Pain is temporary", screamed the poster outside my school sports hall, "But quitting is forever". Having pulled out of any football practice before hitting my teenage prime, I can attest to the truth of this statement. Fourteen years of abysmal sporting failure later, I have still yet to net a goal from open play.
In the admittedly infantile and thoroughly theoretical scenario that there was a league table for successful ancestors of the Jewish people, we would have all tuned out a long time ago. Why? Because from the moment Leah entered the picture, it became a predictable one-horse race. None of the other Foremothers came close to matching her six strong tribal offspring. Our discomfort with others' triumphs is often understandable, but Rachel's reaction to her sister's extraordinary success is distinctly disconcerting:
When Rachel saw that she had borne Jacob no children, she became envious (Va'tekaneh) of her sister; and Rachel said to Jacob, "Give me children, or I shall die." {Bereishis 30:1}
A superficial reading suggests that Rachel was seething with unrestrained envy for Leah. Such an understanding would be hugely problematic. The prohibition of jealousy is one of the ten commandments; it is frankly unfathomable that Rachel, an individual of supreme spiritual stature, would succumb to sin in such a crude fashion.
To better comprehend this Torah passage, we must develop a deeper insight into what jealousy represents. Before forming man, God declared:
"Let us make man in our image, after our likeness" {Bereishis 1:27}
The commentators explain that God here is consulting the Angels and Rashi tells us that he did so to calm or assuage their envy over the creation of humankind. Rashi's explanation seems to create more problems than it solves. How can we characterise Angels -who possess no evil inclination- as displaying the flaw of jealousy? The Maharal answers that, on a base level, jealousy emerges from an individual perceiving a distinction in another that he feels ought to be for himself. Divine wisdom endowed man with 'the image of God' in the lower realms but not to the angels in the upper realms. Thus, 'jealousy' in this context refers to an imbalanced situation. Indeed the biblical word for envy, 'Kinnah,' can also denote imbalance.
This Maharal cast light on the true essence of Rachel’s 'Kinnah' for Leah. It was not primal puerile emotion that propelled Rachel's demand to "give [her] children" but rather the knowledge that the lack of her spiritual input would irreparably hamper the destiny of the Jewish people.
Unfortunately, our new perspective creates further textual difficulties. If Rachel's request rose from righteous roots, it forces us to grapple with the intention of Yaakov's irate reply:
Yaakov was incensed at Rachel and said, "Can I take the place of God, who has denied you the fruit of the womb?" {Bereishis 30:2}
What issue is Yaakov taking with Rachel? Was she not adhering to the Talmudic advice that "Whoever has discord in his house should go to a sage, and the sage will ask for mercy on his behalf"?
The Mei Hashiloach's {Rabbi Gershon Leiner} beautifully original solution provides a profound lesson. He cites a Talmudic passage from tractate Megillah:
"Rabbi Yitzchak said, if a man says, "I tried but failed", do not believe him. "I did not try, but I succeeded". Do not believe him. "I tried, and I succeeded". Believe him."
Rabbi Leiner insists that the Talmud can not be telling us to deny the evidence of our eyes. Even when people make enormous efforts to achieve spiritual goals, they often fail to achieve the desired results. To deny a person's struggle due to their lack of perceptible gain is pure gaslighting. The 'tension' between Rachel and Leah is key to apprehending this Talmudic teaching.
Rachel incessantly prayed that God would give her salvation and provide her with children. Yet still, God appeared to ignore her. Why? Rabbi Leiner elucidates that Rachel indeed had a latent trait of jealousy. God's desire was for her to reveal that this quality did not stem from a selfish root but rather her selfless quest towards the good of the nascent Jewish people. Only once she implored Yaakov to create a line of descent through her maidservant Bilhah did she demonstrate the righteousness of her original request for children. Soon after, she, too, would give birth.
Rabbi Leiner believes that Rachel's story is the archetypal scenario of 'if a man says, "I tried but failed," do not believe him'. What this implies is not, heaven forbid, that Rachel had not tried hard enough but rather that she had not addressed the specific area for which God had created her to thrive. As soon as Rachel managed her point of dissonance, she was blessed with a child, demonstrating that all her previous struggles had not been in vain.
Rabbi Leiner's teaching, in a certain sense, establishes Rachel's narrative as a cautionary tale. Yet it is also incredibly empowering. In our personal lives, we have all encountered brick walls. A strenuous point where nothing seems to work no matter what we do or how many motivational videos or shiurim we engage with. In times like these, the well-meaning advice of 'just try harder' can be particularly galling.
Whilst the value of hard work is not something to be dismissed, transforming it into a be-all and end-all arbitrator of success is inevitably destructive. No single solution exists to cope with the tribulations and troubles of life. Human beings are too messy, and our souls are too complex. We will inevitably fail along the way; hardships are a feature of God's system, not a bug. But sometimes overcoming those challenges is about something other than being more determined, sleeping fewer hours or spending more time on the job. Rachel shows us that there is an alternative route to take.
Sometimes it’s not about trying harder - it’s about trying different.
Good Shabbos, and Keep Pondering!
Amazing!!