A biseleh midrash

Photo: Susan Wilkinson (@ unsplash) "You know that my wife bore me two sons. One of them went away from me, and I said, ‘He has surely been torn to pieces.’ And I have not seen him since.” (Genesis 44:27-28) If you are one of this man’s ten other sons, how do you feel when you hear this? Dad loved this boy way too much. Dressed him up like a doll, called him his sunshine. Did not love his other wives; did not give a fig about his other children. Now Israel loved Joseph best of all his sons.... And when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than any of his brothers, they hated him” (Genesis 37:3-4). There you have it. After Rachel died, Jacob pitched his tent out past Migdal-eder, leaving behind Leah, Bilhah, Zilpah and the children. Reuben, the oldest, saw his chance to send the old man a message: While Israel stayed in that land, Reuben went and lay with Bilhah, his father’s concubine; and Israel found out. (Genesis 35:22) That was it. Didn’t say a word to Reuben.

Photo: Dulcey Lima (on unsplash)   - Don’t cry, it’s just a stupid bug! - But it’s hurt! Look, its leg got crushed by a stone. Let’s take it with us and pray, God will make it better. - If God can fix bugs, then maybe God could get us some rain, so I don’t have to walk the sheep so far and have that huge rock rolled off the wellhead to water them. --------------------- The night is still; only the veils that cover her from head to toe make a slight swishing sound as she is led toward the tent. Father has told her not to say a word. She will try her best. Surely, if she is a good wife, he will come to love her for who she is. --------------------- God hears her silent weeping. She had a head start of seven days before he began spending his nights with Rachel. It wasn’t enough to prove herself worthy; it wasn’t enough to open his heart. She yearns for affection the way an open wound yearns for salve. But perhaps this child will make a difference, and he will no longer hate her.

  Photo:Trac Vu (@ unsplash) We tend to understand the dead backwards, that is, we look first at who they were at the end of their lives when assessing their character; we look at their deaths to form an opinion about their lives. With our current subject this is difficult, for we do not know when, where and how he died; nor do we know where and by whom he was buried. Friends and family agree that as he got older he spent more and more time outdoors, just walking, resting by the stream, napping in the orchard. These absences from home became more frequent and longer. One day he simply did not return, but no one can say exactly when that was. One can surmise that this behaviour constituted a return to the ways of his childhood, as it were, for the child loves to sleep in the field, his small back leaving an gentle impression in the still-warm soil, his eyes roaming among the stars, his heart growing wild and strong. He can distinguish most plants by their smell, he learns the routes ani