The story of Reuben, Jacob's firstborn, is a powerful illustration of just that – a tale of lost potential, impulsive actions, and the consequences that ripple through generations.
The Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Genesis, delves deep into Jacob's final words to his sons. Before we dive in, though, picture this: Jacob, nearing the end of his life, gathers his sons around him. It’s a moment thick with anticipation, with blessings…and with rebukes. "Gather, and I will tell you," he says. The Bereshit Rabbah sees this act of gathering as Jacob appointing his sons as elders, echoing when Moses gathered seventy elders of Israel (Numbers 11:16). "Gather," is stated, and "assemble and hear" is stated – Jacob is informing them that they would be exiled twice. Heavy stuff.
Then comes the moment for Reuben. “Reuben, you are my firstborn, my strength, and the first of my potency; greater honor and greater power. Impetuous as water, you shall not excel; because you mounted your father’s bed; then you desecrated, he who ascended my couch” (Genesis 49:3–4). It sounds like a compliment at first, right? "You are my firstborn, you are similar to me." The Rabbis in Bereshit Rabbah break it down further. Jacob says he lived eighty years and didn't experience a single nocturnal emission. "My strength and the first of my potency – you were my first drop." Imagine the weight of those words!
And then...the hammer drops. According to the text, Reuben was destined for greatness. Three crowns, no less! Priesthood, Kingship, and the Birthright. The text supports this: "Greater honor (se'et)," says the text, "is nothing other than priesthood, as it is written: 'Aaron lifted [vayisa] his hands' (Leviticus 9:22)." Similarly, "Greater power" is kingship, supported by "He will give strength to His king" (I Samuel 2:10). And, of course, the birthright is self-evident in the verse "Reuben, you are my firstborn."
But he lost it all. Why? Because he was "impetuous as water." The Hebrew word used here, pachaz, sparks a flurry of interpretations. Rabbi Eliezer sees it as an acronym: "You were impetuous [pahazta], you cast [hishlakhta] the yoke from upon your neck, your evil inclination moved [za] against you." Rabbi Yehoshua offers another perspective: "You were impetuous [pahazta], you sinned [chatata], you engaged in licentiousness [zanita]."
Rabbi Levi gets even more creative, suggesting we transpose the letters of pachaz to reveal hidden meanings: "You trembled [zata], you became anxious [charadta], and the sin departed [parach] from you." In other words, some interpretations suggest that Reuben didn't actually do the deed, but even the thought was enough to cost him dearly. This interpretation suggests that Reuben trampled [pasata] the law, profaned [hilalta] his birthright, and became a stranger [zar].
The Rabbis then ask, "What is 'as water'?" If you spill water, it's gone. Nothing remains (mishtayer). But if it were oil or honey, something would linger. Hence, "As water, you shall not totar" – you shall not excel.
The root of Reuben's downfall, as the text tells it, stems from an incident involving mandrakes and his father's concubine, Bilhah (Genesis 30:14). When Reuben brought mandrakes to his mother Leah, Rachel asked for some. Leah responded: “Was the taking of my husband insignificant that you would take also of my son’s mandrakes?” and Rachel responded: “Therefore he will lie with you tonight in exchange for your son’s mandrakes” (Genesis 30:15). In this exchange, Leah was considered to have respected and elevated Jacob’s bed and Rachel was considered to have denigrated it.
The Bereshit Rabbah interprets this as Reuben causing Jacob's bed to be "elevated" (alita) in a negative sense, because of the ensuing conflict between Leah and Rachel. "Because you caused it to be desecrated, you will be a pariah until Moses...will come and release you and draw you near." This connects to Deuteronomy 33:6: "May Reuben live," a blessing attributed to Moses.
So, what do we take away from Reuben's story? It's a potent reminder that actions, even those driven by impulse or perhaps even just thought, have consequences. It’s a story about the weight of responsibility, the fragility of privilege, and the long shadow that our choices cast on future generations. It's also a testament to the possibility of redemption, even after significant missteps. After all, Moses, the great lawgiver, interceded on Reuben's behalf. Perhaps that's the most hopeful part of the story – the idea that even when we stumble, grace and forgiveness might still be within reach.