Rabbi Akiva “broke” not just once but several times, including during difficult events in his personal life, yet he always overcame his setbacks.
THE TZADDIK AND THE BAAL TESHUVAH
Joseph was a true tzaddik. Sometimes this identity is apparent in a person’s character from birth, and it is immediately clear that this person is innately good. There is a type of personality for whom perfection is innate. Jonathan, Saul’s son, seems to fit this characterization – he is a person with no apparent defects.
Let us note, however, that such a person – a man who bears an aspect of perfection by his very nature, who was born with all the great gifts and who exercises them in perfect fashion – must be judged by his ability to remain at this level. Possessing all the virtues is not enough if he is unable to rectify himself the moment he becomes flawed.
In nature, too, there are structures that do not reach perfection by way of development but, rather, emerge perfect from the outset. The Talmud mentions the possibility of using an egg to support the leg of a bed. This talmudic statement is strange and surprising. After all, even if this were possible, who would use an egg to support the leg of a bed? But the truth is that from a physical standpoint, an egg is one of the most perfect structures in existence. The only problem is that an egg’s strength depends on its complete integrity. It is like a dome: The moment one stone falls, the whole structure collapses. This is often the nature of this kind of perfection: It can last only as long as there is no flaw.
In this sense – as is evident from their interaction before and after this point – the relationship of Joseph and Judah is that of a tzaddik and a baal teshuva. The story of Judah and Tamar compared to the story of Joseph and Potifar’s wife is a striking example of this relationship.
Judah’s character seems to deteriorate. He sells Joseph, which is a particularly despicable act. His conduct with Tamar demonstrates a moral deficiency as well. Nevertheless, he is also capable of confronting Joseph – “Judah went up to him.” Here is a person who has quite a few matters on his conscience and an unsavory past. We might have expected him to sit quietly on the sidelines, but as we see, he takes action instead.
Judah not only puts his life on the line but is also willing to face up to his past actions. The wide gulf between those actions and his present conduct is precisely what defines Judah’s essence. The Midrash comments that Joseph attempted – rightfully – to silence Judah, asking him, “Why are you speaking up? You are neither the eldest nor the firstborn. So what are you doing? Let your eldest brother Reuben speak. Why do you even have the right to open your mouth?” Yet Judah, despite all his baggage, rises anew, ready to come to grips with whatever he must face. That is Judah’s strength. By contrast, Joseph – by nature and as a matter of principle – cannot change, cannot be flexible. He is a perfectionist, and this is precisely what breaks him.
The Talmud recounts an interesting conversation between Elisha b. Avuyah and Rabbi Meir. Elisha b. Avuyah asks Rabbi Meir to interpret the verse, “Gold and glass cannot match its value, nor can vessels of fine gold be exchanged for it.” Rabbi Meir responds, “This refers to Torah matters, which, like vessels of gold, are hard to acquire, but like vessels of glass are easily lost.” Elisha b. Avuyah says to him, “Rabbi Akiva, your master, did not interpret that way, but, rather, ‘Both vessels of gold and vessels of glass, if broken, can be repaired.’” One can melt them and form them anew. But there are vessels – such as those of clay, mother of pearl, or even diamond – that, after being broken, remain forever broken. One cannot do anything about it; the defect remains a defect.
We read in Megillat Esther, “But Mordechai neither bowed down nor prostrated himself.” On the one hand, this conduct reflects his strength and glory; but on the other hand, it gets him into trouble: According to the Talmud, the Jews became furious with him for not acquiescing to Haman’s demands. “Why did you get us into all of this trouble?” they cried. “Bow down!” Mordechai is cast in the same mold as his ancestors Saul and Joseph before him. He is called “Mordechai the tzaddik,” and tzaddikim often cannot abide even the slightest flaw. Mordechai’s essential nature requires that he be perfect.
Before going out to his last battle, Saul knows that he and his sons are going to die, and he does not care. An aspect of strength and idealism accompanies this man throughout his life – even at his fall. Just like Elisha b. Avuyah, Saul does not act in half measures; if his flaws cannot be corrected completely, then he does not want them corrected at all. He aims for the highest heights, but if he cannot achieve this, he will consign himself to the lowest depths. To go halfway is not an option.
By contrast, for someone like Judah – the true baal teshuva – the existence of flaws is intrinsic to him and to his personality. If he did not have flaws, he would not be who he is. The baal teshuva thrives on his ability to deconstruct his personality in order to reshape it in another form, to make changes within himself.
Judah begins entirely from below. Like David, he comes “from following the flock;” he begins from nothing. Judah is neither the firstborn nor the most physically imposing of Jacob’s children. However, he “prevailed over his brothers” (I Chr. 5:2), and he continuously perseveres, generation after generation.
Joshua and Caleb seem similar, to a large degree. However, though the Talmud likens Joshua to Moses, saying, “Moses’ countenance was like that of the sun; Joshua’s countenance was like that of the moon,” Joshua had no children. Caleb had a son and a brother – he had successors, generation after generation. Not all of his descendants were important or significant people, and most certainly did not measure up to his eminence, but Caleb’s essence lived on. When Joshua died, however, only a tombstone remained. After the tribes of Joseph were smashed and exiled, they did not return home. We – who are basically the Kingdom of Judah – had our first Temple destroyed, but we built the Second Temple. We were exiled again for a period of time, but once again, we are returning.
Wherever Judah and Joseph interact, it is a meeting between perfection and adaptability. Throughout history, Joseph represents splendor, even heroism. In contrast, Judah is flawed and beleaguered, beset with difficulties; but in the end, Judah always prevails.
Excerpt from Chabad.org/4973830
