That’s a feeling that echoes through the story of Dinah in the Book of Genesis, and it explodes with dramatic force in the rabbinic interpretations.

Dinah, daughter of Leah, ventures out. It seems simple. A young woman wanting to see the world. But according to Bereshit Rabbah, specifically section 80, that act sets off a chain of events that leaves us grappling with questions of justice, revenge, and collective responsibility.

The verse from Hosea (6:9) that opens this section is stark: "Like troops of robbers waylay a man, a company of priests murders its way to Shekhem, for they have formulated a plot." A powerful, unsettling image, isn't it? The Rabbis of the Midrash aren’t pulling any punches here. They're using this vivid comparison to paint a picture of what Simeon and Levi did in response to the rape of their sister, Dinah.

The text asks, is the comparison to "a company of priests" surprising? After all, priests are supposed to be holy. Shouldn’t they be paragons of virtue? The Midrash answers by pointing out that priests come together at the threshing floor to claim their due portion. Similarly, Simeon and Levi gathered in Shekhem to take what they believed was their due: vengeance. The Rabbis aren't necessarily condoning their actions. But they're trying to understand the mindset, the sense of righteous indignation that fueled such a violent response. Was it justified? The text implies that the brothers felt it was: “Murders its way to Shekhem” – it was proper for Simeon and Levi to have killed in Shekhem."

But why?

Because, as the brothers themselves exclaimed, "Shall he render our sister a harlot?” In other words, “Are we going to stand by and let our family be treated with such disrespect?" It’s a question of honor, of maintaining their dignity in the face of a terrible transgression.

And then comes the kicker. The Midrash lays the blame, at least in part, at Dinah’s feet: "Who caused it? 'Dinah, daughter of Leah…went out.'"

Ouch.

Now, before we jump to conclusions, let's remember this isn't about victim-blaming. It's about exploring the complexities of cause and effect. The Rabbis are asking us to consider how even seemingly small choices can have enormous repercussions. This idea of personal responsibility rippling outwards is something that resonates deeply within Jewish thought.

The Rabbis aren't letting Simeon and Levi off the hook for their violent actions, nor are they completely excusing Shekhem's crime. Instead, they're creating a multi-layered narrative, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths about human nature and the cyclical nature of violence. It's a story that continues to challenge us, thousands of years later, to examine our own actions and their potential consequences. What do you think?