Bible studies

“Now Yitro, the priest of Midian, Moshe’s father-in-law, heard of all that God had done for Moshe,
and for Yisrael His people, how God brought Yisrael out of Egypt.”

‘Before delving into our passage’s narrative, it is important to determine where it fits into the broader
chronology scheme. When did Yitro arrive on the scene and advise Moshe to set up a multi-tiered
court system? Textual sequence indicates that Yitro arrived before the Jews received the Torah. Still,
some posit that it was afterward which might better explain the need for relieving the overtaxed
Judge Moshe of some of his dockets. Talmudic sages are split on this issue.

Medieval-era Torah commentators vie to provide evidence for one view or the other.

Shemot vol. I: Sinai Rules page 349

“And God spoke to Moshe saying. When you take the sum of the
Children of Israel, according to their number, then shall they give every
man a ransom for his soul unto God, when you number them, that there
be no plague among them, when you number them.”

Our section speaks about a census for soldiers. The count is associated with a “ransom”, in efforts to
ward off pestilence. The means to tally the warriors features a silver coin collection, called machtzit
ha’shekel. After all the coins were counted, then the men’s number was duly ascertained.

Abarbanel asks: Why does the Torah demand this roundabout method? A more straightforward way would have been to simply count heads and thereby short circuit the coin count.

Answering that question, actually, pits Abarbanel against all other classic Bible commentators, including
Rashi and the Ramban. According to the commentators, head counts are prohibited by the Torah, as the
act invites the wrath of the evil eye. They are incorrect. While the Bible does record the disastrous
effects of the evil eye in King David’s time, that discussion is for a different time.

Was the machtzit ha’shekel brought here as subterfuge, a tricky way to forestall pestilence? Hardly. Here
is why.

One has to do with God’s command at present. He did not call for a census by coin collection, or for that
matter, by any other object. When God finds something desirable – He lets people know by issuing a
command. The Maker does not mince His words.

Two, if counting by object represents the preferred methodology for successive times and generations
and if it is considered a positive commandment, incumbent upon the Jews (to use coins or other means),
as well as a negative precept (not to perform headcounts), we need to answer why the sages who list
the Torah’s six hundred thirteen mitzvot do not include them in their count?

Three, how can anyone assert that the Jews were not counted, when the Torah writes explicitly: “This
they shall give, every one who passes among them are numbered.” The words speak for themselves –
this is the Biblical way to describe body counting.

More reasons could be supplied, but these suffice. Let us share Abarbanel’s interpretation, in shorthand,
of our section’s lead verses to count Hebrews.

In the Torah, context matters. Six successive paragraphs pertain to the building and funding of the
Tabernacle. Apropos, the Creator foresaw that the Jews would donate small quantities of silver to the
holy enterprise. For a simple reason. International currency during those years centered on silver, the
machtzit ha’shekel being the common currency.

We add some backstory to the forty-year desert march. The encampment regularly enjoyed visits from
traveling Gentile merchants hawking, well, just about everything. When it came to funding the
Tabernacle, Jews were quite generous. Generous with their gold. Generous with their copper. Generous
with their valuables. Nearly all their valuables.

Silver proved the exception. Jews did not part with silver, because it enabled them to buy things from
traveling salesmen. Those merchants only accepted silver as payment for goods. Now we can better
understand our section.

After the Torah dedicated paragraph after paragraph to the building and funding of the Tabernacle, it
segued into our section, beginning with taking a census of the men. “When you take the sum of the
Children of Israel…” The Tabernacle included many silver vessels, but silver donations were scant, for the
reason stated above.

God came with a fix. He had Moshe take a census whereby each counted man would donate a machtzit
ha’shekel. This would provide the Hebrew leader with vital information about his available fighting
forces, a requirement every military leader finds indispensable. After all, Moshe believed the Jewish
incursion into Canaan was imminent. Knowing his troops numbers made perfect sense, something every
general ascertains prior to war.

In closing, let us demonstrate how God aligned disparate goals. “And God spoke to Moshe saying. When
you take the sum of the Children of Israel”, in the main, had little to do with warding off the evil eye.
Mustering up troops is fully justified, as suggested. God observed that the Mishkan was in sore need of
silver, to manufacture certain, sacred vessels. Alignment occurred when the Creator offered sound
counsel to Moshe, bidding him to collect much silver.

Separately, Moshe sought to count the troops as a means of preparing an offensive to take Canaan.
Headcounts court danger, in the form of the evil eye (Read: a count or sum reaches large proportions).
The Maker provided an antidote. He directed Moshe to order the fighting corps to bring “a ransom for
his soul unto God.”

Abarbanel proposes that the silver was tzedakah (charity). He further holds that a direct headcount took place. As
for the threat posed by a direct tally, charity served as a life preserver. Each man safeguarded his life
from the evil eye on the merit of the machtzit ha’shekel he donated to the Mishkan.

“And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.”

Don Isaac Abarbanel (1437-1508) asks on this Torah section of Terumah: Why did God command the
Hebrews to build a sanctuary? As it says: “That I may dwell among them?” One might deduce that the
Maker has physical properties and that a sanctuary can fully contain Him.

Preposterous. Hashem is non-corporeal. Thus, no chamber – no matter how high and spacious – can
accommodate Him. Yeshayahu pegged it: “The heaven is My throne and the earth is My footstool.
Where is the house that you may build unto Me? And where is the place that may be My resting place?”
Wise Shlomoh, the builder of the First Jewish Temple, props the prophet’s proclamation: “Behold,
heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain You. How much less this house that I have built!”
Does our verse in the first aliyah of Parashat Terumuah challenge the words of the prophet and wise
king?

It should be plain. The Almighty’s command to build the Tabernacle or Mishkan and its vessels had to do
with His desire to tightly interweave His holiness and holy presence or Shechinah with the Chosen
People. Of no consequence was the fact that this intimate relationship commenced between man and
God in a desert wasteland (and not lusher or more picturesque environs).

What mattered most was the goal it accomplished. Providence coddled God’s nation, in exchange of
their keeping the divine Torah. A marriage made in heaven. Never would His people contemplate the
fundamentally false, but near-ubiquitous, premise that the Creator abandoned earth. Nor would they
adopt the attitudes of the Gentiles, one based on the assumption that God retired to the heavens
above, remote from man. Moreover, the Jews would repel heresy built upon a denial of divine
providence interfacing with man. Such skewed philosophy leads to bitter consequences, namely, a
mindset that precludes the Maker from paying man back according to his evil deeds and ways.

On this topic of erroneous, theological assumptions, let us elaborate. Gentile thinkers posit that it is not
possible to attain in-depth understanding of the world, other than by sense perception or other physical
stimuli. Since God is non-corporeal, these theologians surmise, He does not tune into man’s daily doings.
Nor does He apply providence to people. Incorrectly, they believe that the Creator sits upon high, aloof
from man.

The Maker does not abide such false teachings. For a moment. In efforts to redress such misinformation
from among the Jewish ranks, God commands: “And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell
among them.” The verse conveys that the Almighty Himself takes up residence amongst the Jews. This is
a religious tenet and imperative. The Creator resides in their midst. Divine providence is the vehicle or
manifestation of faith.

We return to an earlier reference to a verse in Yeshayahu, making better sense of it: “The heaven is My
throne and the earth is My footstool. Where is the house that you may build unto Me? And where is the
place that may be My resting place?”

Unequivocally, the Creator has zero need for a Temple or Tabernacle. In the very next verse in
Yeshayahu, we read: “For all these things has My hand made.” Why, then, did God command the Jews
to build the Mishkan? The answer resounds unmistakably: to etch within the Jews’ psyche the principle
of divine providence, as per Yeshayahu: “But on this man will I look, even on him that is poor and of a
contrite spirit, and trembles at My word.” This is precisely what wise Shlomoh meant in his prayer, on
the solemn occasion at the dedication of the Holy Temple.

“And you shall command the Children of Israel, that they bring unto you
pure olive oil beaten for the light, to cause a lamp to burn continually. In
the Tent of Meeting…Aharon and his sons shall set it in order, to burn
from evening to morning before God…”

Isaac Abravanel contends that it is curious for our section to start with a divine command regarding the
priests arranging the lights of the Tabernacle’s menorah. Yet, at present, such a commandment is out of
place. Better would have been to insert this mitzvah after we read about building the Tabernacle and
heard about the placement of the menorah (plus the other holy vessels). Granted, the menorah
directive relates to the priests, still and all, at this point in the Torah, they had not even been duly
designated (It occurs in the next verse.). If so, Abravanel wonders why verse two of our section already
tells Kohanim how to handle the menorah. In short, the instruction appears premature.

Abravanel poses another question, this time not about the content of the first verse, but rather about its
style. Phrasing seems off: “And you shall command” or ve’ata tetzaveh. The object of Moshe’s request
is the Jewish people. But, preferable would have been the imperative: “Command Aharon” or tzav et
Aharon or even “Command the Children of Israel” or tzav et bnei Yisrael. After all, and on this very
commandment, the imperative is used in Sefer Vayikra, where it reads: “Command the Children of
Israel.”

The Ramban, another classic Bible commentator, attempts to provide an answer to our first question.
He learns that the particular phrasing conveys that Moshe should not delegate this commandment to
others; it is incumbent upon him to do. For the Ramban’s approach to hold water, really, the Torah
should have written: “And you command” or veatah tzaveh, similar to an upcoming verse that does use
that grammatical construct: “And you bring forth” or ve’atah hakrev and not what we have above:
ve’ata tetzaveh.

Indeed, Biblical grammar matters. From our section’s lead verses, it does not appear that the Torah here
is issuing a divine imperative about the lighting oil. Nor do they represent a pressing message to light the
menorah.

Here is Abravanel’s answer to both questions. Consider the big picture of this section, with the first two
verses setting the scene for what ensues: priestly garb. That is, the Torah intends to launch a broader
discussion into the subject of holy garments that priests must don when officiating in the Mishkan. Thus,
the Maker tells Moshe: “And you shall command…” When? Sometime in the future you shall command
your brethren to take pure olive oil. Moreover, in the Tent of Assembly, outside of the partition covering
the Testimony, Aharon and his sons shall arrange the lamp in the evening until the next morning, before
the Creator – an everlasting edict. Exclusively, only priests or Kohanim may attend to this service. It
devolves upon Moshe to summon Aharon his brother, as well as Aharon’s sons to officiate before the
One Above.

Notice how our section pivots from its preface (menorah) to the main thrust (priestly garb). It would be
patently gauche for Kohanim to perform sacred service while wearing ordinary clothing. Given this
solemn requirement to “dress the part”, it befits Moshe to occupy himself with proper, priestly attire, as
per the balance of this section.

Precisely because sacred garments are of paramount importance, the Torah, at present, is not coming to
request the lighting of the menorah. Rather, the chief thing here is to put together respectable garments
for the Kohanim. So, when they enter the sanctuary to attend to the menorah (and other Tabernacle
activities), they dress respectfully.

Now, since Aharon and his sons will be entering the Sanctuary night and day before the Almighty to light
the menorah, they shall not make spectacles of themselves by violating the holy compound’s dress
code. Hence, our section alludes to one of the priests’ Mishkan tasks. In effect, the Torah establishes a
timeline (sometime down the road…) through a grammatical nuance before beginning in earnest, “And
you shall command”, but not the more time critical tone of “Command the Children of Israel” – which
implies posthaste.

Parashat Tzav, First Aliyah, based on Abravanel’s World of Torahby Zev Bar Eitan

Bible Studies with Don Isaac Abarbanel and the Ramban. Sacrifices in the Tabernacle: Sin offerings, guilt
offerings, and peace offerings. Abarbanel asks: Does God even want sacrifices? What does the Torah’s
sequence of the offerings teach about God?

“And God spoke to Moses saying. Command Aaron and his sons saying,
this is the law of the burnt offering…”

Don Isaac Abarbanel asks what appears to be a question of style, better of an inconsistency of style.
Regarding the sequence of the Tabernacle’s sacrifices, he makes a simple observation. Earlier in
Leviticus, where the subject of offerings is broached, the section pertaining to peace offerings is
followed by sin offerings, and then guilt offerings. Yet, here in our section, verses begin with sin and guilt
offerings prior to moving on to peace offerings. Why?

Here is Abarbanel’s answer. Early in Leviticus, God says to Moshe: “Speak to the Children of Israel.” That
section discusses the divine commandment to bring sacrifices. And the Hebrews complied, bringing their
offerings. But here something else is going on. “Command Aaron and his sons saying…”

Here the verses focus on practice, meaning the emphasis rests on the men who will actually do or carry
out Tabernacle service. Performers or agents of execution were the priests. Some sacrifices had been
the domain of the high priest, while other types fell to rank-and-file priests. Hence, “Command Aaron
and his sons saying…”

At the lead were verses concerning burnt offerings, owing to its most lofty status. Of all the varied types
of offerings, these are the Creator’s most beloved. That explains why Leviticus begins with verses
discussing burnt offerings. Top of the top. We may view it as if the Maker extends a wish or a hope. How
wonderful it would be if Hebrews only brought this altruistic type! Indeed, it is God’s prayer that Jews
would not sin and thus not need to bring either sin or guilt offerings, as they imply misdoing.

In contrast, we find the earlier section that discusses peace offering before sin and guilt sacrifices, as
opposed to our section, whose order is flipped (first sin and guilt and then peace offerings). The
Ramban, a classic Bible commentator responds as follows. In the Temple times, all sacrifices fell into one
of two broad categories: most holy and ordinary holy offerings. In the sacrifice pyramid, per se, the most
holy were the burnt, sin, and guilt offerings. Underneath them were peace offerings.

But there is more to the various offering types than what meets the eye. Abravanel explains. In the
beginning of Leviticus, we find this sequence: burnt offerings, gift offerings, peace offerings, with sin
(and guilt) offerings trailing last. This order bespeaks God’s traits, always putting the right foot forward,
in a manner of speaking. Except for sin/guilt sacrifices, all other offerings highlight the positive. This
reflects the Maker’s preference; He desires idealistic folks who bring gifts to the Temple out of love and
for good occasions, good cheer.

Put differently, whenever God is faced with two options – positive and negative – He naturally favors the
positive and good. Consequently, the order of sacrifices begins with altruistic and favorable ones. They
are the goodwill offerings (burnt, gift, and peace). They exude love and idealism. Next is the sin offering,
an obligatory sacrifice suggesting remedying a wrong. Fear of God as a motivator places a distant second
place to those ushered in with affection.

“And Moshe assembled all the congregation of the Children of Israel and he said to them: These are
the words that God has commanded to do them.”

Abarbanel asks : When did Moshe make the appeal to fund the Tabernacle?

‘After Moshe descended the mountain, he addressed the entire nation. His call, naturally, reached out
to men and women. A gathering took place in the prophet’s personal Tent of Meeting, located beyond
the Hebrews’ encampment. It was crucial to assemble everyone so that they could all hear God’s
words spoken via Moshe.

In essence, the gathering was a rally for people to generously come forward and shoulder the financial
costs of building the Mishkan. According to the Ramban, this appeal, for lack of a better word, took
place the day after Moshe had come down from Sinai….

Page 320 Shemot vol. II: Assembled at Sinai

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 31, we read about Rachel swiping Laban’s idols. Her inexcusable deed
raises a red flag, prompting Bible students to question: What could Rachel possibly have been thinking?

“Now Laban was gone to shear his sheep. And Rachel stole the
teraphim that were her father’s.”

It certainly vexed Abravanel, leading him to ask: What tempted Rachel? Did she want to ween Laban
from his idolatrous folly? If so, how naive? What would be the likelihood that an old man set in his
primitive ways could be cured by a young daughter? Besides, who would stop Laban from acquiring new
gods? Finally, Abravanel raises the possibility that Rachel desired to serve idols, as her father. Answering
his own ridiculous thought, Abravanel says emphatically – God forbid. No way would Rachel stoop so
low!

Jacob clearly had no inkling that Rachel pilfered the teraphim, otherwise he wouldn’t have issued a
death warrant for the offender. The patriarch tells Laban: “With whomsoever you find your gods, he
shall not live…”

Here is Abravanel’s response. At best, Rachel viewed her father’s teraphim as a type of talisman. That is,
of course she understood that the figurine couldn’t speak, but maybe it somehow inspired Laban, and
spurred him to greater awareness. In our context, Abravanel suggests that maybe Rachel thought that
when Jacob exited with his wives and children, Laban would run to his idols, talk to them, in hopes of
gaining insight. Laban would take hold of the teraphim, pensively inquiring of them: “Tell me. Where did
Jacob lead my daughters and grandchildren? Which way did they go? What route did they take etc.?”

In sum, Rachel hedged her bet and sought to improve Jacob’s run for freedom. Since Rachel worried
that Laban would consult his teraphim, as means to figuring out Jacob’s best escape route, she stole her
father’s idols. The blow to Laban would blunt his powers of concentration, and ultimately thwart his
chances to apprehend the fugitives.

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. For over five centuries, Abravanel has delighted – and enlightened – clergy and layman alike,
offering enduring interpretations of the Bible.

“And the angel of God said unto her: Behold you are with child, and shall
bear a son. And you shall call his name Ishmael, because God has
heard your affliction. And he shall be a wild ass of a man. His hand shall
be against every man, and every man’s hand against him. And he shall
dwell in the face of all his brethren.”

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. Earlier in Genesis, Bible students read of God’s promises to Abram. The patriarch heard
that he would be the father to many nations, and that his descendants would inherit Canaan. Yet,
Abram and Sarai grew older and older, with no children in sight.

In Chapter 16, things come to a head. Sarai senses that she is reproductively impaired. Ten years in the
Holy Land brought no boost to the couple’s fertility. Still no babies.

Sarai came up with a strategy. She pleaded with Avram to wed Hagar, Sarai’s Egyptian handmaid.
Perhaps, Sarai hoped, Hagar would have a child. Sarai would help raise him. In that way, Sarai would do
her part in participating in the fulfilment of Heaven’s plan.

After repeated requests from Sarai, Abram acceded to Sarai’s pleas. Abram married Hagar, and she
conceived. Verses tell us that Hagar also grew conceited. She looked down on Sarai. The domestic scene
between Sarai and Hagar became more than just sticky; it was toxic.

Abram’s two wives couldn’t get along. At all. Strife tore the patriarch’s family apart. Hagar ran away.
While wandering in the adjacent desert, an angel of God appeared to Hagar. Several communications
passed between them. See the verses quoted above.

Abravanel focuses, among other things, on the son that Hagar would soon bear: Ishmael. What will
become of him, Abravanel asks. Bible aficionados believe the answer to be a simple one, as per the
verse: “And he shall be a will ass of a man.” Clearly, the description of Ishmael as a “wild ass” is not open
to interpretation, we would think.

Readers will be surprised by Abravanel’s approach, one that paints Ishmael, the patriarch’s first son, in a
positive light. Here is how:

The angel of God chided Hagar for leaving the creature comforts of home. He told her, in so many
words, to return to Abram and Sarai, come what may. Among the arguments that the angel put forth to
coax Hagar back was one of environment. What will she gain for her or her son should she decide to
adopt a nomadic existence, traipsing from wilderness to wilderness? Is a barren desert any place to live,
let alone raise a son?

If Hagar was to call the desert home, then the prospects would be bleak, said the angel of God. Do you
want to raise your son, he continued, to be a societal outcast? Do you think it’s in Ishmael’s best
interests to grow up without social skills, uncouth and uncivilized? In this manner, did the angel bring
about a change in Hagar’s heart.

To be sure, Abravanel uses finesse, with a stress on intonation: “And shall he be a wild ass of a man?”
Abravanel reads the verse rhetorically, as we have translated it.

The angel of God threatened that undesirable outcome, if Hagar relocated to the desert. Next, the angel
from above showed how Hagar could opt for a better life for her and her son, predicating it on her
return to Abram’s and Sarai’s holy household.

“His hand shall be against every man, and every man’s hand against him…” These are the angel’s words
should Hagar take the high road home. The angels expressed the following. To the question, “And shall
he be a wild ass of a man” came the answer from above. NO!

“His hand shall be against every man.” It means that Ishmael will be cultured. He will develop healthy
ties with his fellow man. He’ll be cultured. Moreover, the verse teaches that he’ll conduct commerce
with others, partnering up with them. Finally, the angel foretells that Ishmael, in time, will be close with
his half-brothers (children born to Abraham and Keturah).

Based onAbravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. For over five centuries, Abravanel has delighted – and enlightened – clergy and layman alike,
offering enduring interpretations of the Bible. In Genesis chapter 7, the Bible details and describes the flood that wiped clean an
entire planet, after repeated Heavenly warnings fell on deaf ears.

“And the flood was forty days upon the earth. And the waters increased,
and lifted up the ark. And it was carried above the earth. And the waters
prevailed, and increased greatly upon the earth. And the ark went upon
the face of the waters.”

In the chapter that conveys how Heaven unleashed the great flood, Abravanel notes the redundancies.
Multiple verses appear to go over the same material – “increasing waters” and “prevailing waters” etc.
He asks: Wouldn’t it suffice to write of these things once?

Abravanel introduces his answer after he wryly remarks that other Biblical commentators attempt, in
vain, to get the right read. They fail to adequately explain the reason why the verses repeat key terms
pertaining to the flood. The best these commentators could come up was literary license and emphasis.
Namely, increasing and prevailing waters claimed the lives of every single inhabitant of the world, the
lone exceptions being the passengers on Noah’s ark.

Bible 101 presumes this: Holy Writ does not waste words. No verbiage. Each word, each letter serves a
purpose. Indeed, they impart divine knowledge. Working with that assumption, Abravanel provides a
rationale for the seeming redundancy of this chapter’s description of increasing and prevailing waters. In
addition, Abravanel explains why the Bible seems to repeat itself when the chapter turns to outlining
the carnage.

“And all flesh perished that moved upon the earth, both fowl, and cattle…and every man. He blotted out
every living substance…and they were blotted out from the earth. And only Noah was left, and they who
were with him in the ark.”

Abravanel spells things out. God’s flood obliterated the planet. The Creator desired to give the world a
thorough scrubbing from its moral turpitude and stench. Earth was sorely needful of a redo. Water
would do the job. “Living substance” in the verse above does not narrowly refer to living beings. Instead,
it takes on a broader scope. Specifically, according to Abravanel, “living substance” takes into account
nature at large, including majestic and mighty trees, vast forests and jungles.

“Living substance” means more. It refers to urban and societal accessories, institutions, and
achievements. They all came crumbling down, the sprawling palaces, neighborhoods, and cities.
Needless to say, even the more modest and makeshift structures like cattle sheds and nests made of
sticks met their end, no differently than “impenetrable” city walls and “impregnable” defense systems.
In a word, whatever had any association whatsoever with the “living” melted away, vanished in flood
waters.

When the deluge receded, not a trace of life stood in its former place. As the Talmudic sages taught:
Even household implements like mortar and pestle disappeared, gone for good. “He blotted out every
living substance…and they were blotted out from the earth. And only Noah was left, and they who were
with him in the ark.”

In sum, Abravanel teaches how our chapter alludes to the annihilation of a world gone awry. God had,
after dispatching Noah to warn people, resolved to vanquish His creation. From its most intricate and
majestic forms to its most jejune and rudimentary parts – all were swept away in a maelstrom. Each
verse lent additional information, and imagery, about the utter ruin to befall an expendable world.

Based onAbravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

For Yaakov (Jacob), a bitter famine coupled with his sons’ insistence comprised formidable tailwinds propelling him to Egypt. Still, he might have braved hunger and stayed put in beloved Canaan. Perhaps he could have resisted their incessant appeals had it not been for one irresistible magnet. Its force tugged and jerked mercilessly. Uppermost in the mind and heart of the aged patriarch was an image that he hadn’t been able to shake for two decades: Yosef’s (Joseph's) face.

Abravanel’s World of Torah Shemot Vol 1 pages 13-14

Splitting the Red Sea

“And God went before them by day in a pillar of cloud, to lead them the way; and by night in a pillar
of fire, to give them light, that they might go by day and by night. The pillar of cloud by day and the
pillar of fire by night departed not from before the people.”

‘The Almighty also provided these travelers with a pillar of fire. This flaming entity, too, was ethereal,
stretching from the sky to the ground. The Jews in the desert had not taken along lanterns or oil from
Egypt. God did not want the Jews stumbling in darkness, and He knew that an illumination source
would put a spring in their step and a smile on their faces. A burning, torch-like fire column lit up the
night. Knowing all too well that His children were in for a long haul with many zigzagging pit stops in
the wilderness, God rolled out the fire and cloud implements in advance.

Page 256 Shemot vol. I: Sinai Rules

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508), also spelled Abarbanel was a penetrating Jewish thinker, scholar, and
prolific Biblical commentator. In Genesis chapter 3, he explains one of the Bible’s more puzzling and
curious narratives featuring a cunning and talking snake. Some English translations refer to it as a
“subtle serpent.” Be that as it may, Bible readers need to understand this chapter. This blog provides a
thoughtful approach to Genesis chapter 3 in particular, and Bible study in general.

“Now the snake was more wily than any beast of the field…”

Abravanel begins chapter 3 with questions.

• Who informed the snake of God’s command to Adam, namely that he should not eat fruit from
  the tree of knowledge of good and evil? Was the snake a prophet or a sorcerer to divine
  Heaven’s message to Adam?
•  How did Eve understand the snake’s communications, its hissing? Was Eve a snake whisperer,
  attuned to the language of snakes (or other animals)?
• Did the snake use body language or gestures to convey ideas – a wink of the eye or the crossing
  of its legs, snapping of its fingers? If so, was Eve adept at deciphering such non-verbal
  dispatches?

Abravanel takes to task those commentators who have put forth such silly notions. Hogwash. Animals
lack the intelligence to transmit such highly sophisticated communications. Abravanel also argues with
his predecessors who posit that in the beginning of time, snakes possessed different traits and abilities.

No, snakes were not created to stand upright and speak. No, the Garden of Eden snake was not Satan,
disguised as a serpent. Finally, Abravanel disagrees with those who submit that our verse cannot be
taken at face value, but rather that the snake symbolizes nature etc.

Here is Abravanel’s approach. This lays out the authentic foundation of the snake narrative. The snake
did not speak to Eve, nor did Eve speak to the snake. Obviously enough, serpents cannot speak. To wit,
we don’t find a verse alerting us to the impossible or miraculous. Nowhere is it written here: “God
opened the mouth of the snake…” Contrast that with Numbers 22:28. There readers find that the
Almighty opened the mouth of the donkey. When Bible students do find an explicit verse preparing
readers for highly unusual (miraculous) events, we accept it as literal, because the Bible prompts us to
switch mental gears, if you like. We have entered the realm of the marvelous.

No such heads-up is written with the snake, and so we must conclude that this snake did not open its
mouth nor did it speak to Eve. No miracles. No wonders.

Abravanel learns that this is what transpired. Eve observed the snake slithering up the tree of knowledge
of good and evil. She further watched it eat the knowledge fruit. The snake munched and munched and
munched. Strange, Eve thought to herself: “the snake didn’t die. It didn’t even get sick from the
forbidden fruit.”

Projecting, Eve said to herself, as if conversing with the snake: “Look at you. You climb up the tree of
knowledge and you eat freely of it. Yet nothing happens. You didn’t get sick and die.”

So, while it’s true that the verses appear to convey a “he said she said” dialogue, no such conversation
took place. Other examples in the Bible also suggest dialogue, but really are man’s (or in this case
woman’s) musings.

Eve convinced herself to eat forbidden fruit and share it with Adam. Dire consequence followed. The
rest is history…

Genesis 3:1

Based onAbravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

“Now these are the statutes which you shall set before them.”

This section pertains to Jewish law, a cornerstone of Judaism. Let us provide a brief introduction to this
all-important subject. The Torah has three distinct categories of commandments or mitzvot. At present,
we are only interested in statutes or mishpatim, divine laws which comprise Jewish jurisprudence. At
root is what is commonly referred to as civil law, rules that govern the relations between a man and his
friend.

Does Jewish law or mishpatim hold advantages over other systems of civil justice? Some say no. They
contend that Jewish jurisprudence is typical in the sense that it resembles all other people’s legal
systems. This position flies in the face of Scripture: “He declares His word to Yaakov, His statutes and His
ordinances unto Israel. He has not dealt so with any nation, and as for His statutes, they have not known
them.” Of course, from time immemorial societies have promulgated laws and conferred upon courts
the authority to adjudicate.

How do mishpatim stand apart? The Midrash quotes from Psalms: “The strength also of the king who
loves statutes” (read: justice). Moshe addresses, the Midrash continues, the Jewish people, explaining
that the Almighty has transmitted the Torah to them. If, however, the nation rejects mishpatim, their
negligence will result in the entire Torah being taken away from them.

Why should this be so? The Midrash concludes that the transmission of the Torah was predicated upon
the observance of the statutes, as supported by a verse: “The strength of the king who loves statutes” –
justice.

The message conveyed by the Midrash begs another question: Is praise of mishpatim excessive,
exaggerated? After all, the corpus of mishpatim discusses the mundane. How ho-hum to legislate the
consequences of a fellow’s ox goring another guy’s mule! How underwhelming are court cases
presented by someone who claims his garment had been damaged by another? On topic, the psalmist
pens: “Surely for vanity they are in turmoil. He heaps up riches, and knows not who shall gather them.”

King David calls out the superficiality of material pursuit and possessions. Given the transitory nature of
man’s tangible holdings or other commercial interests and dealings, why does the Midrash place such
sky-high value on the observance of mishpatim, stating that failure to heed them results in forfeiting
Holy Writ?

Furthermore, given that this area of the Torah deals with the ordinary, how should we understand
Judaism’s position that mishpatim rank superior to other systems (like the Noachide Code or any other
one), when on the face of it, we do not find glaring distinctions between how a Jewish versus non-Jewish
court would adjudicate torts?

And yet, the assertion is a serious one. Really, what was lacking with the code of law devised by the sons
of Noach, or Hammurabi? In short, how should we understand our section’s lead verse: “Now these are
the statutes which you shall set before them?” Assuredly, the Maker vested divine wisdom solely in
mishpatim. To paraphrase the Talumudic sages on our verse: “Before them” – the Hebrews – and not
before the Gentiles. Furthermore, the sages stressed “Before them” – and not before the illiterates.

Understand this. Divine mishpatim stand unmistakably distinct from all other legal codes, such as the
one created by Noach or successive civilizations. Here are two major differences that show Jewish
jurisprudence’s decisive edge over the rest.

One has to do with the intrinsic nature of mishpatim: They are abundantly rich, encompassing much.
That is, statutes sub-divide and pullulate, giving rise to more and more legal refinement or categories.
Some of these divine laws relate to individuals, others communal. Together, they endure far beyond
societal conventions that people devise for purposes of maintaining civil order.

We must especially consider the vast body of Jewish law which stems from the Ten Commandments.
Not surprisingly, Gentiles hold a vastly different and narrower view of the interpretation of them (“You
shall not murder” or “You shall not steal” etc.).

Two deals with the consequence of compliance. For mishpatim, God rewards handsomely. In contrast,
governments do not compensate the law abiding. To be sure, compliance for the Gentiles does ensure a
smooth, orderly community. The Creator, too, does not pay the nations for good conduct. But, as stated,
compliance does promote neighborliness.

God broadcasted the Ten Commandments on Sinai to the Hebrews. They were delivered in fantastic
shorthand (“You shall not…”). The game-changing, mountain-desert event staggered huddled masses. In
unison, the people told Moshe that they had had enough direct communication with God. From here on
out, Moshe would be their go-between. Subsequently, the exceedingly fine details of the Ten
Commandments, including Heaven’s renumeration for observance, came to the Jews via Moshe.

This preface provides proper context for our lead verse: “Now these are the statutes which you shall set
before them.”

“And Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground…”

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. For over five centuries, Abravanel has enlightened clergy and layman alike, offering enduring
interpretations of the Bible.

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 4, the Bible introduces Cain and Abel, Adam and Eve’s first two sons.
Though little is explicit concerning Cain’s motive for taking Abel’s life, Abravanel plumbs Cain’s psyche.
His observations build a case to help solve the murder mystery.

Abravanel asks: Why did Abel choose to become a shepherd even though his older brother Cain was a
tiller of the soil? Farmer Cain, logically enough, decided to tend crops so to put food on the table. Yet,
Abel raised livestock – at a juncture when early man was not permitted to eat beef or mutton. Raising
cattle or sheep that cannot be consumed piques curiosity.

Abravanel probes further. As for the two brothers’ diverse occupations, the Bible clearly favors Abel’s
form of livelihood. How do we know? It is because the verse gives Abel first billing, despite the fact that
Cain was his elder: “And Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground…”

Now we turn to Abravanel’s answers that will expand the discussion. Cain committed fratricide because
he feared not God. In the aftermath of Adam and Eve’s sin in the Garden of Eden, the Maker
pronounced Adam’s punishment: “Cursed is the ground for your sake.” Cain’s choice of vocation speaks
volumes. More than just insensitive to God’s pronouncement, Cain was nonchalant and defiant. On
future challenges and hardships associated with agriculture, God said: “Thorns also thistles shall it bring
forth to you.”Conceited, Cain cared not a fig about such utterances. He thought that his ingenuity and
resourcefulness would neutralize Heaven’s curse, rendering it irrelevant.

Abel, on the other hand, was a shepherd. Animal husbandry reveals a certain personality, one that
delights in controlling others; he governs them. In bio hierarchy, animals notch a rung higher or more
sophisticated than plant life. Readying himself to rule over man, Abel first honed his political acumen on
beast.

Thus far in Abravanel’s analysis of Cain and Abel, we have focused on their respective vocations. Both
choices – farming and shepherding – convey a deeper story vis-à-vis Abravanel’s understanding of the
verses. The main thing to takeaway is this: Neither Cain or Abel displayed interest or awareness of God.

Abravanel makes another important point about Cain and Abel. In Hebrew, Kain shares a cognate with
the verb liknot, meaning to acquire. Cain desired to grow wealthy and acquire things with the profits he
would turn from his farming business. Mammon can distract ethical pursuits.

Abel in Hebrew is ‘hevel.’ It conveys that which is fleeting and illusory. To be sure, Abel’s choice of work
portrays a man with grandiose notions, and political aspirations. Heaven frowns and disapproves of
upon such ephemeral focus.

In sum, Abravanel develops personality theory from the scant number of verses in our chapter. Neither
Adam or Eve’s first two sons showed a religious bent. Occupation with worldly affairs stoked their
passions. Hence, they and their descendants were expendable. When the great flood hit with a
vengeance, that line of Adam and Eve’s would be obliterated.

Seth was the couple’s third son. A truth seeker. Of noble bearing and upright character, his descendants
would, in time, carry God’s word and message to the world.

Based on Abravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

Genesis Chapter 4

“Enoch lived 65 years, and he had a son Methuselah. Enoch walked
with God for 300 years after he had Methuselah, and he had sons and
daughters. All of Enoch’s years were 365 years. Enoch walked with God,
and he was no more because God had taken him.”

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. For over five centuries, Abravanel has delighted – and enlightened – clergy and layman alike,
offering enduring interpretations of the Bible.

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 5, the Bible provides a sketch of Enoch, albeit an enigmatic one.
Abravanel’s portrayal of Enoch adds much to our understanding of Enoch’s conflicted soul, as we shall
now see.

Abravanel begins by comparing verses pertaining to Enoch and Noah, both exemplary men described as
individuals who “walked with God.” He asks: Why does Enoch’s verse praising him tack on mention of
Methuselah: “Enoch walked with God after he had Methuselah”, yet Noah’s verse does not, as it says:
“Noah walked with God"?

Furthermore, why does the Bible use puzzling language to convey Enoch’s death: “And he was no more
because God had taken him?”Wouldn’t it suffice to simply say that Enoch died?

Abravanel answers these questions, and by so doing, gives Bible students key insights into Enoch’s inner
struggles to keep the faith.

To properly understand Enoch, Bible students need to first assess from whom he descended. Who was
his father, grandfather, great-grandfather etc.? Abravanel traces ten generations of righteous
personalities, starting with Adam leading to Noah. Each one, in his own unique way, served the Maker.
These men put God front and center, as far as their principles and conduct was concerned.

The Bible points out that each of these truth seekers set their minds and souls to learning God’s ethos,
His values. Consequently, they delayed marriage until they were older and religiously mature. Enoch
deviated from his ancestors’ precedence, marrying much younger than his illustrious forebears.

This suggests, Abravanel writes, a less than flattering observation about “young” Enoch. He was sex
crazed. That explains why he ran headlong into marriage so early, unlike his noble predecessors.

After Enoch’s marriage and after his son Methuselah was born, Enoch regrouped. He found God. See
Abravanel’s World to learn about the driving force behind Enoch’s transformation. Laudably, Enoch
served his Creator. “Enoch walked with God for 300 years after he had Methuselah…”In a word, Enoch
reinvented himself.

But, he also remained with his wife, begetting sons and daughters. Compare Enoch’s family life with
Adam’s. Abravanel teaches that after Adam fathered Cain and Abel, he temporarily separated from Eve
for purposes of realigning his goals, putting his life in order – alone.

In brief, we have outlined Enoch’s inner struggles. On the one hand, he aspired to Godliness, while on
the other hand he sought spousal intimacy. Heaven looked down on Enoch’s conflicted soul, and had
mercy: “And he was no more because God had taken him.”

Genesis Chapter 5

Based on Abravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 13, the Bible reiterates divine promises previously made to Abram in
an earlier chapter. Here again, God tells Abram that his progeny will wax prolific, and that they will
inherit the Holy Land.

“And God said unto Abram, after Lot separated from him: Lift up your
eyes, and look from the place where you are – northward and southward
and eastward and westward. For all the land which you see, to you will I
give it, and to your seed forever. And I will make your seed as the dust of
the earth, so that if a man can number the dust of the earth, then shall
your seed also be numbered.”

Abravanel wants to get a read on the reason why the Creator repeats both divine promises, essentially
the same message that He already communicated with Abram. Further, Abravanel compares the
language of the two divine communiqués. He finds that the second time around goes into far greater
detail than the terse, first prophecy.

Abravanel’s answer educates Bible students. Readers will not only learn why there is a repeat of the
prophecies, but they will also become sensitized to a theme Abravanel drives home throughout his
commentary on the Bible. It is this: prophecy does not come in a vacuum. God speaks to man, assuaging
his inner turmoil and distress.

The verse quoted above, then, sets the all-important context. God spoke with Abram after his nephew
Lot separated from him. Abravanel plumbs the patriarch’s mood, post separation. In a word, the
patriarch felt forlorn. Years of trial and tribulation together had brought the uncle and nephew
extremely close; they bonded.

When Lot bolted, Abram had no other family member remaining with him from his father’s household.
Despondent, the patriarch received the Creator’s message, one of profound comfort and cheer – he
would be the patriarch of a burgeoning nation, one whose number can be likened to the dust of the
earth. More good news – his descendants would inherit the Holy Land.

For sure, the first divine message carried the same gist, albeit in shorthand. However, after Lot
abandoned Abram, the Creator sought to gladden a heavy heart. The second, amplified prophecy hit its
mark.

Abravanel brings a second reason that answers why the Bible reiterates the original prophecy delivered to
Abram.  You can learn about it in Bereshit: Theory of Moral Evolution

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 9, the Bible turns to diet for Noah, his family, and their progeny. Is
Scripture biased toward veganism or, at least, vegetarianism?

“Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you, as the green herb
have I given you all. Only flesh with the life thereof, which is the blood
thereof, shall you not eat.”

The verses we have quoted above cannot be more explicit: the Creator gives man license to eat meat;
it’s kosher. But what changed? God stopped Adam and pre-flood mankind from ingesting animal flesh.
One Biblical commentator writes that plant life was violently uprooted during the great flood,
irretrievably so. That commentator isn’t right. God’s green light to Noah should not be viewed as an
emergency measure, based on a new reality on the ground. It’s just not true. In time, a soggy earth
would dry and bounce back. Agriculture would be restored to its antediluvian level. Actually, post-flood
soil was more nutrient rich than prior to the deluge.

Abravanel explains the diet change by way of a historical sweep. Recall, the Maker transported Adam
into the Garden of Eden. The place lacked for nothing. Plentiful fruit trees and other yummy edibles
grew marvelously, as per the verse: “And out of the ground made God Almighty to grow every tree that
is pleasant to the sight, and good for food.” Furthermore, with the exception of the tree of knowledge,
God welcomed Adam and Eve to enjoy the Garden of Eden’s delights: “And God Almighty commanded
the man saying, of every tree of the garden you may freely eat.”

Here is the thing. Though drenched loam had not been permanently ruined during the deluge, it had
taken a hit, forcing a setback. Neither fruit trees, vineyards, or berry bushes survived high waters. Had
Noah and family needed to attend to plowing, planting, sowing seeds, and harvesting produce, they
would have wasted away before gathering and filling their first basket. Recognizing an impending, albeit
temporary food crisis, God permitted Noah and his family to eat meat.

Based on Abravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 10, the Bible chronicles Noah’s children’s progeny – but in fantastic
shorthand. To be sure, history may be gleaned from the Bible, but it cannot narrowly be called a history
or historical book. Let us explain, using the verses below as an illustration.

“Now these are the generations of the sons of Noah: Shem, Ham, and
Japheth, and unto them were sons born after the flood….And unto
Shem, the father of all the children of Eber, the elder brother of Japheth,
to him also were children born.”

“And Shem, the father of all children of Eber, the elder brother of Japheth, to him also were children
born.” Eber was Shem’s great grandson: Shem begot Arpachshad; Arpachshad begot Shelah. Shelah
fathered Eber. Yet, Scripture makes it sound as if Shem only bore Eber. Abravanel asks: Why do
Arpachshad and Shelah get short shrift?

Another thing. Abravanel questions why Holy Writ identifies Shem as Yapheth’s older brother, but fails
to mention Ham, who also was Shem’s younger brother. In a word, Abravanel wonders why our verse
appears fragmented or incomplete, as far as Shem’s lineage is concerned. Curious.

Here is Abravanel’s approach. Shem’s progeny was many. Shem’s family of origin included his two
siblings, Japheth and Ham. Respectively, their children made up Shem’s extended family.

Who was Shem? Abravanel posits that he was a devoted truth seeker. Shem’s chiseled soul soared to
spiritual heights. He dedicated himself to study and upright conduct, surrounding himself with like-
minded thinkers. Now let us apply this knowledge to our verses, with a focus on this blog’s title: Bible as
history?

The Bible is not particularly interested in painstakingly chronicling mankind. It is, among other priorities,
interested in shedding light into personalities, especially saintly ones. As Abravanel ascertains, for Shem,
Heaven’s values mattered most. Shem’s affinity was reserved for his erudite, great grandson Eber. He
had less in common with his own son Arpachshad and grandson Shelah. Shem also fawned over Eber’s
descendants. Soulmates, they explored timeless lessons in hallowed study halls.

Shem also didn’t have too much time for his brother Ham or his descendants. Let’s just say that their
lifestyles and choices parted ways. Japheth and Shem, on the other hand, enjoyed brotherhood. Literally
and figuratively. They found a common language, interests.

Abravanel reiterates, that Shem favored Eber so much in comparison to Arpachshad and Shelah, it was
as if they weren’t his son and grandson. As for Shem’s siblings, there is the same model. Namely, Shem’s
closeness with his brother Japheth dwarfed his relationship with Ham, to the extent that Shem hardly
related to Ham as kin.

Based on Abravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. For over five centuries, Abravanel has delighted – and enlightened – clergy and layman alike,
offering enduring interpretations of the Bible. Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis Chapter 33, we read about the long-anticipated reunion of Jacob and Esau.
Twenty years had elapsed from the time the twins had last seen each other.

“And Jacob lifted up his eyes and looked and behold, Esau came and
with him four hundred men. And he divided the children unto Leah, and
unto Rachel, and unto two handmaids…And he himself passed over
before them, and bowed himself to the ground seven times, until he
came near his brother. And Esau ran to meet him and embraced him,
and fell on his neck and kissed him. And they wept. And he lifted up his
eyes and saw the women and children and said, Who are these with
you? And he said, The children whom God has graciously given your
servant.”

The Bible makes Jacob’s conduct before Esau explicit. Unabashedly, the patriarch showed deference to
his brother, behavior befitting a servant before his master. “And bowed himself to the ground seven
times until he came near his brother.”

Abravanel shares his thoughts on the brothers’ encounter. The verses illustrate Jacob’s subservience.
But, how did Esau receive it? When Esau observed Jacob’s demeaning posture and proper etiquette, he
softened, or better, melted. “And Esau ran to meet him and embraced him…and kissed him.” Jacob, too,
choked up. For a stitch in time, sibling hostility dissipated. Brotherliness and affection swept over them,
filling their hearts. They may have asked themselves why they let so many years pass apart from each
other.

After the brothers hugged it out, Esau opened the conversation with a question. “And he lifted up his
eyes and saw the women and children and said, Who are these with you?” Jacob answered, but only
partially. “And he said, The children whom God has graciously given your servant.”

Abravanel picked up on Jacob’s evasiveness, as the patriarch only touched upon his children. Why didn’t
Jacob breathe a word about his wives, as Esau had enquired? Apparently, Esau assumed that some of
the women and children were Jacob’s, others were not. Perhaps some women and kids were related,
say cousins.

Abravanel writes that Jacob didn’t want to open himself up for humiliation. How so? Jacob was reticent
to tell Esau that he had four wives, lest Esau give his kid brother a rakish, goofy grin before cracking
ribald remarks. What a paradox! You my righteous and God-fearing brother have four wives! One or
even two wives don’t suffice? You outdid your evil brother. I only have three wives etc.

In responding to Esau, the patriarch chose the path of discretion. He pivoted the conversation to his
children. “And he said, The children whom God has graciously given your servant.”As for the womenfolk
accompanying Jacob, the patriarch was mum. Thus, Jacob sidestepped Esau’s booby trap.

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 29, Jacob arrives at a well, outside of Haran. There, in a setting
teeming with rich imagery, he meets local shepherds and plies them with questions. Abravanel explains
the significance of the dialogue at the well, both significant topics for Bible students. As to Jacob’s
questions, what was he getting at? Here is Abravanel’s interpretation.

“Then Jacob went on his journey, and came to the land of the children of
the east…And he looked, and behold a well in the field…And Jacob said
unto them, My brethren, from where are you? And they said, We are
from Haran. And he said unto them, Do you know Laban the son of
Nahor? And they said, We know him…And he said unto them, Is it well
with him? And they said, It is well. And behold, Rachel his daughter
comes with the sheep.”

Jacob sought out Laban, Rebekah’s brother, this despite Isaac’s advice. The aged patriarch had called for
Jacob to pay a visit to Betuel, Rebekah’s and Laban’s father. First, Jacob learns from the locals that he
arrived in Haran. Next, Jacob asks: “Do you know Laban the son of Nahor?” Yet, Laban was the son of
Betuel and grandson of Nahor.

Abravanel clarifies. Of course, Jacob knew Laban’s lineage. The reason he calls Laban the son of Nahor
(and not Betuel) was Jacob’s way of paying respect to the family’s pedigree. Nahor was Abraham’s
uncle. Pegging Laban to Nahor underscored the more prestigious family ancestry.

Next, Jacob asks: “Is it well with him?” Abravanel understands the question, not as a nicety, but rather
as a crucial barometer. Jacob needed to know if Laban lived in peace. The patriarch feared that perhaps
a tribal feud engulfed Laban and the townspeople. Jacob had plenty of infighting back home. He needed
a breather.

No sooner had Jacob heard that peace reigned in Haran than more favorable news followed. “And they
said, It is well. And behold, Rachel his daughter comes with the sheep.” When Jacob heard about good
neighborly relations in Haran, followed by news that Rachel was approaching, a strong premonition
from Above overcame him – he felt certain that the two were destined to marry.

How did Jacob know that Rachel would be his bride? He had heard the story of divine providence, one
that arranged for Rebekah to meet Eliezer, Abraham’s servant, at the well. The venue turned out to be a
precursor, as Isaac and Rebekah married. Now, Jacob felt that the well, with its history and symbolism
alluding to life, would become the backdrop whereby he would find his wife.

In sum, Abravanel argues that Jacob’s arrival at the well, and the conversation with Haran’s shepherds
that took place there, was anything but casual or chance. It had the mark of divine providence written
all over it.