Let’s delve into a fascinating corner of Jewish thought to explore just that.
We're turning to the Book of Jubilees, a text considered apocryphal by some, but a treasure trove of insights into ancient Jewish perspectives for others. This book, written during the Second Temple period, retells the stories of Genesis and Exodus, but with significant expansions and interpretations. It's like the ultimate director’s cut of the Torah!
Today, we're looking at chapter 33. It's a short passage, but it packs a punch. The core message? Incest is absolutely, unequivocally forbidden. And the penalty? Well, it's pretty stark: "...to no man who doeth so in Israel is it permitted to remain alive a single day on the earth, for he is abominable and unclean." Strong words. But then it gets interesting. The text anticipates a potential objection. What about Reuben? You remember Reuben, Jacob's eldest son? The Torah tells us he "lay with Bilhah his father's concubine" (Genesis 35:22). It’s a messy situation, to say the least. So, the Book of Jubilees asks: why was Reuben seemingly granted life and forgiveness? And what about Bilhah herself? She had a husband—Jacob—still very much alive.
The answer the text offers is fascinating. "...until that time there had not been revealed the ordinance and judgment and law in its completeness for all…" In other words, the full weight of the law hadn't yet been revealed. It was a time of transition, a period before the definitive rules were laid down. Think of it like the early days of a new game. You're still figuring out the rules, experimenting with the boundaries. But once the rulebook is finalized, everything changes.
The Book of Jubilees declares that now, in the author's time, the law has been revealed. It's complete. It's a "law of seasons and of days, and an everlasting law for the everlasting generations." This isn't just a temporary guideline. This is the standard, forever and always.
What’s so interesting is the implied argument here. The author of Jubilees isn't just stating a law. They are actively defending it, anticipating challenges, and providing a justification for its perceived inconsistencies with earlier narratives. They are grappling with the complexities of tradition and trying to make sense of the past in light of the present.
And doesn’t that resonate with us today? We, too, are constantly re-evaluating our values, revisiting our understanding of right and wrong. We look to our traditions for guidance, but we also wrestle with their complexities, seeking to create a moral framework that is both rooted in the past and relevant to the present.
The Book of Jubilees reminds us that morality isn't static. It evolves. It deepens. And sometimes, it requires us to confront uncomfortable truths about our own history as we strive to build a more just and compassionate future.