It’s like a beautiful song with a simple melody, but underneath, there's a complex harmony of hidden meanings and connections. Today, we're going to explore just such a passage from Bamidbar Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Numbers, or Bamidbar in Hebrew. Specifically, we’ll be diving into chapter 14, and it all starts with a seemingly simple description of an offering.
The verse we're looking at is from Numbers 7:49: "His offering was one silver dish, its weight one hundred and thirty; one silver basin of seventy shekels, in the sacred shekel; both of them full of high-quality flour mixed with oil as a meal offering." Sounds straightforward, right? But the Rabbis of the Midrash see something much deeper. They interpret this offering as being presented "in the name of Jacob, who had him precede Manasseh, and in the name of Joseph." It's all about family, legacy, and the unexpected ways blessings unfold.
The Midrash connects the "dish" – the Hebrew word is kaarat – to Jacob. But here's where it gets interesting. The Rabbis play with the word, suggesting we read it not as kaarat, but as akeret, which means "to uproot." This alludes to Jacob's act of uprooting the expected order by placing his right hand on Ephraim, the younger son of Joseph, thereby giving him the greater blessing. The Torah tells us this story in Genesis 48, and it's a powerful moment of divine intervention, or perhaps, divinely guided intuition.
The “silver,” we’re told, reflects the verse, "the tongue of the righteous is choice silver" (Proverbs 10:20). It’s connected to what Jacob said to Joseph when he insisted on blessing Ephraim over Manasseh: "I know, my son, I know; he too shall become a people..." (Genesis 48:19). Jacob knew what he was doing, even if it seemed unconventional. The Midrash even meticulously counts "one hundred and thirty" words from when Jacob "laid it on Ephraim's head" (Genesis 48:14) until "he placed Ephraim before Manasseh" (Genesis 48:20) to correspond to the weight of the silver dish. Talk about attention to detail!
Next, the "silver basin" – mizrak in Hebrew – represents Joseph. The Midrash connects mizrak to the idea of being "cast away" – shenizrak – referring to Joseph being cast into the pit by his brothers and sold into slavery in Egypt. The "one" basin symbolizes Joseph's unique position as a ruler in Egypt. Remember, Genesis 42:6 tells us, "Joseph was the ruler over the land…" Again, the silver represents his wisdom, which allowed him to rise to power. As Pharaoh said, "After God has disclosed all this to you… You will be in charge of my house…" (Genesis 41:39-40).
Then there's the "seventy shekels." Here, the Midrash brings in a fascinating idea: that the angel Gabriel added a letter from God's name to Joseph's name, changing Yosef to Yehosef, and taught him seventy languages. This is based on Psalms 81:6: "He established it as a precept for Joseph [bihosef] when he went out over Egypt; I learned a language I had not known." The idea is that without this divine assistance, the Egyptians wouldn't have accepted Joseph as their ruler.
The Midrash emphasizes the striking similarities between Jacob and Joseph. Rabbi Shmuel bar Nahmani points out that Genesis 37:2 says, "These are the chronicles of Jacob, Joseph," instead of "These are the chronicles of Jacob, Reuben." This is to teach us that Joseph resembled his father in every way. The Midrash then lists a whole series of parallels: both were born circumcised, both their mothers were barren, both had difficult pregnancies, both had two sons, both were targeted by their brothers, both were shepherds, both were hated, both were stolen from, both were blessed, both left the Land of Israel, both married and had children outside the Land, both were accompanied by angels, both rose to greatness through dreams, both blessed their father-in-law's household, both went down to Egypt, both ended famine, both administered oaths, both died in Egypt, and both were embalmed and had their bones taken back to be buried in the Land of Israel. It's a stunning list that underscores the profound connection between father and son. Because of this resemblance, the Midrash concludes, it's appropriate that the offering is described as "Both of them full…" referring to both Jacob and Joseph.
The interpretation continues, linking further offerings to Abraham, Isaac, and even Joseph's descendants. It's a whirlwind of connections, showing how the Rabbis saw the entire history of Israel encoded within these seemingly simple verses.
What does this all mean? Is it just clever wordplay? Perhaps. But it's also a powerful reminder that the Torah is not just a history book or a legal code. It's a living document, constantly being reinterpreted and reapplied to new situations. It invites us to look beneath the surface, to find the hidden connections, and to see the deeper meaning in the stories we think we know so well. And maybe, just maybe, to consider how our own actions and choices ripple through generations, shaping the destiny of our families and communities.