Jewish tradition certainly sees echoes of the past in the present, especially when it comes to empires.
In Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Genesis, we find a fascinating take on Abraham’s covenant with God. Remember the scene where God tells Abraham to prepare a sacrifice? It involves some very specific animals: three calves, three goats, three rams, a dove, and a young pigeon (Genesis 15:9). Seems straightforward enough, right?
But the rabbis, masters of uncovering hidden meanings, see something much deeper. They ask, what if these animals aren't just animals? What if they represent something more?
This particular passage in Bereshit Rabbah connects these animals to the empires that would rise and fall, impacting the Jewish people throughout history. It's a powerful and, frankly, a little unsettling interpretation.
The passage starts by linking the three calves to Babylon, specifically to Nebuchadnezzar, Evil Merodakh, and Belshatzar. These were the kings who brought destruction to the First Temple and exiled the Jews to Babylon. Then, the three goats are connected to Media and its rulers: Cyrus, Darius, and Ahashverosh (yes, the one from the Purim story!). And the three rams? They symbolize Greece. As the text notes, these three – Babylon, Media, and Greece – represent the first three of the Four Kingdoms destined to subjugate Israel, a concept detailed in the Book of Daniel (chapters 2 and 7). It’s a sobering reminder of the forces that have shaped Jewish history.
Now, there's a little debate within the rabbinic conversation itself. Rabbi Elazar believes that Greece conquered all directions except the east. Rabbi Yoḥanan challenges this, pointing to Daniel 8:4: "I saw the ram goring to the west, and to the north, and to the south, and no beasts could withstand it…" Doesn't that sound like total domination? Rabbi Elazar cleverly counters that the verse doesn't mention the east, thus supporting his point. It's a classic example of how the rabbis grappled with scripture, finding multiple layers of meaning.
And what about that dove and young pigeon, the gozal? (Gozal is Hebrew for "young bird.") This, according to the text, alludes to the kingdom of Edom, the ancestor of the Romans – the fourth kingdom. The passage describes Edom/Rome as a dove – seemingly peaceful – but also as a gazlan, a robber. It seeks to portray itself as peace-loving, but it seizes the riches of its subjects. Ouch.
The text then delves into another layer of interpretation, focusing on Abraham's act of dividing the animals. Rabbi Yehuda believes that this act showed Abraham the future princes of the idolatrous nations, while Rabbi Neḥemya argues that it revealed the princes of Israel. According to Rabbi Yehuda, the thrones of these nations were placed opposite each other, constantly vying for power. According to Rabbi Nehemya, it was a symbolic representation of the Sanhedrin Gedolah, the Great Sanhedrin of Israel, convening and decreeing laws – literally "cutting" and shaping the laws for Israel.
But here's the kicker: "But the birds he did not divide." Why? Rabbi Abba bar Kahana, quoting Rabbi Levi, offers a profound insight: God showed Abraham that anyone who seeks to confront the wave, the wave will sweep him away. But anyone who does not seek to confront the wave, the wave will not sweep him away. In other words, those who yield to a more powerful force might just survive. Like the birds, the most vulnerable of creatures, who were spared from being cut up.
What a thought! Sometimes, survival isn't about brute force, but about knowing when to bend, when to adapt, when to choose a different path. It’s about understanding the ebb and flow of history, and finding a way to navigate the currents. It's a lesson that feels just as relevant today as it did centuries ago, doesn't it?