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The Parashat Vayishlach is about how Jacob avoids his brother Esau, who

wants to kill him, by splitting his family into two camps. At night an angel

comes and Jacob wrestles with it until dawn. Then the angel gives Jacob the name

Yisrael.

             For my talk today, I chose the story of the Rape of Dinah. This story poses

some difficult problems to modern readers and it is hard to figure out how it

really fits into the parashat.

    The story concerns Jacob's only daughter Dinah. She was the daughter of

Leah, the first of Jacob's four wives, and had seven brothers and five

half-brothers. Dinah never speaks in this story, but we can try to imagine what

she might have been like. She probably had to help her mother with a lot of the

household work. But as the only daughter with so many brothers and the youngest

of seven siblings, Dinah probably got lots of attention. It wouldn't be

surprising if she was a girl who was strong-minded and wasn't afraid to try to

get what she wanted.

    Dinah had no sisters so she may have sought out the company of girls from

other families. With all the work she probably had to do at home, she was

probably a capable, self-confident, somewhat independent person. She probably

felt at ease socializing with other girls, even girls who were not Jewish. This

last fact becomes relevant later on because one issue this story raises is the

conflict about intermarriage.

    In the Biblical story of Dinah, the nature of the first relations

between Dinah and Shechem is a source of debate.

    In the context of this story, however, the debate over whether or not Dinah

consented to having sexual relations with Shechem may be completely irrelevant.

    In a way, Dinah is really "forced" from two ends -- on the one hand by

Shechem if he forced her to sleep with him; and on the other hand by her own

father and brothers who also did not allow her to make her own choices about marriage.

    This story has an action and a reaction. The action occurred when Shechem

raped or "defiled" Dinah. After this act, Shechem speaks tenderly to Dinah and

falls in love with her. He wants to marry Dinah so he and his father, Hamor, go

to Jacob to ask for permission for Shechem to marry Dinah.

    This puts Jacob in a predicament. For one thing, Shechem is not Jewish.

And Jacob's right to true consent has been compromised because although

Shechem still wants permission to marry Dinah, he has already slept with her.

    We have spoken about the initial action of the story. Now comes the reaction.

    Simeon and Levi, two sons of Jacob (and brothers of Dinah), hear what

Shechem has done to their sister and they become furious. In their minds, their

sister Dinah has been treated like a prostitute. They are hot-headed and in the mood

to fight. They make demands on Shechem and the town that he comes from.

    First, they tell Shechem that if he wants to marry their sister, he must

circumcise himself. This is a pretty tough requirement, especially in the days

before anesthesia, but Shechem agrees to it. When you think about it, this seems

like pretty solid evidence that Shechem really loves Dinah.

    And Dinah's brothers are not satisfied that Shechem, alone, agrees to

circumcision. They want every man in Shechem's town to agree to be circumcised.

Shechem and his father Hamor agree to this condition also.

    But it turns out that Dinah's brothers have no intention of agreeing to

Dinah's marriage to Shechem no matter what Shechem and his father do.

    Instead, on the third day after these circumcisions take place, when the men

of Shechem's town are in pain and feeling weak, Dinah's brothers, Simon and

Levi go into the town, plunder it, and kill all of its male inhabitants.

    Hamor is an example of the worldly power of wealth and influence. He is a

prince who hopes to expand his riches and influences by having his son marry a

girl from another important and prosperous family. He seeks compromise and a

peaceful resolution to this conflict -- for practical reasons.  Hamor is willing to seek these material benefits of wealth and influence

without much regard for other people. He agrees that the men in his town will be

circumcised, but he does not ask them what they think about that. Also, he

diminishes the meaning of circumcision, treating it as a simple surgery -- a

means to a practical end -- when it is supposed to represent a covenant with

God.

            As Hamor makes his pragmatic and materialistic argument, his son, Shechem,

begs Jacob for Dinah's hand in marriage. But it doesn't work out that way. Instead of marriage and good fortune, there is murder and mayhem. Jacob worries about this turn of events. He is concerned that "I shall be destroyed, I and my house."

            This story could prompt us to think about what it means to be a Jew. Does it

just mean that our daughters and sons should not intermarry?

    It also prompts us to think about what it means to be a human being. What

human rights do women have? Should they be able to make their own choices or

should they be ruled by their fathers and brothers? Even today, tens of millions

of people around the world believe that a woman's "honor" must be protected by

her father and brothers.

    Another question the story of Dinah prompts us to ask is whether every

offense committed against us must inspire an act of vengeance?

    The Rape of Dinah is a story about a crime. But was the crime an alleged

rape or was the main crime the crime of murdering people, especially people who

had nothing at all to do with what happened between Shechem and Dinah?

    Some commentators speculate that Simeon and Levi just did not trust

Shechem's and Hamor's promise that the men in their town would be circumcised so

that Dinah and Shechem could intermarry. These commentators say that the Hevites

living in Shekhem were known to be big liars and that they would never keep any

of their promises.  But, obviously, the men of Shechem's town did keep their

promise to be circumcised. In this case, their honesty may have cost them their

lives.

    And here is a question that occurs to modern rabbis especially. Where

is Dinah in this discussion? At first she is portrayed as an out-going girl and

then suddenly she becomes a passive player in this debate that is to decide her

fate. Has the rape obliterated her as a person? Will the decisions of her father

and her brothers help make her whole again or will they simply victimize her one

more time? Though the story appears to center around her, Dinah never speaks in

the story. This could lead you to think that the story of Dinah's rape is not

really about Dinah or her rape -- but about what happens afterward.

    One of the biggest questions about the story is what does it have to do with

everything else in the parsha? Where is its place? It must be there to teach us

something. But what?

    Again, since this is the parsha in which Jacob struggles with the angel and

is designated as a leader of Israel, the story may be trying to prompt us to

think about what it means to be a Jew. Is being a Jew a matter of being a member

of a primitive desert tribe, mainly concerned with matters of so-called honor

and preservation of itself? Or does it involve something more transcendant -- a

system of ethics, a belief in Torah and in God?

    Maybe this is what Jacob means when he exclaims: "I shall be destroyed; I

and my house."

    Maybe Jacob is not referring only to his reputation in the neighborhood and

his business relationships, suffering as a consequence of his sons' misdeeds.

    Perhaps he means that the killing led by his two sons will threaten or

destroy the house of Israel, the people that Jacob is supposed to lead. Perhaps

Jacob now considers all his actions in the light of how he wants people to think

of Israel? If he doesn't want to kill innocent people, maybe it is partly

because he wants the people of Israel to be respected for their fairness. He

prefers to find some common ground with people, rather than rely on violence to

settle a problem.

       By killing Shechem, Shechem's father, and the other men in Shechem's town,

Dinah's brothers believed that they had restored honor to Jacob's family.

    Some commentators believe this story deals with different kinds of power --

physical power versus spiritual power, for instance. In this story, Jacob's

power is more spiritual. He is not interested in inflicting violence on people.

He feels that killing innocent people in a community is not the way to deal with

a crime committed by only one person in that community. In other words, one

person's wrongdoings should not imperil that person's town or land.

    Dinah's brothers Simeon and Levi offer a contrast to this. They use physical

power by countering the rape of their sister with a violent and deadly attack on

the Hevites.

    Shechem's rape of Dinah also shows the use -- or misuse -- of physical

power. However, this does not take into account other feelings Shechem may have

for Dinah.

    So again we ask, what is this story doing in the parsha and what does it

have to do with the story of Jacob wrestling with the angel? The Torah is

supposed to teach us a lesson for every story. So does this story contain some

moral, or some principle, by which we must live?

    In fact, it turns out that Simeon and Levi have something in common with their sister's rapist: violent impulse characterizes all three of them. Jacob's response is more thoughtful than the impulsive and violent reaction of his two sons.

Acknowledgements

            There are several people that I would like to thank today. They have helped me through this process and have taught me more than I ever thought I was capable of doing. Cantor Fletcher helped me with learning how to read from the Torah scroll and also guided me through what was going to happen today. I would also like to thank Margo Fein who has helped me for 6 months in learning my torah portion, the trope, the haftorah, and all the blessings. Also, I would like to thank Rabbi Berkowitz who could not be here today but helped me absorb what I was studying, allowed me to explore so many ideas in this portion of the Torah, and of course, helped me with writing my Davar Torah. I also want to thank Rabbi Weiner for leading today’s service. I also want to thank all my relatives who have traveled from places like California, South Carolina, Ohio, and Massachusetts to be here today. But I really want to thank my mom and dad who have been by my side the whole time and even when I wasn’t in a great mood, they have picked me up the whole way.  And I also want to thank my brother Ben. I guess you could say he has been my break from all the work I’ve had to do the past few months.

Lev's father's comments:

Dear Lev,

          Today you are a Bar Mitzvah. You’ve made a very important step into adulthood with its choices, decisions and responsibilities.

          You are lucky to grow up in a place where you are free to make choices and be proud of your Jewish heritage. But if you recall some stories of your ancestors, they vividly reflect recent Jewish history of enormous tragedies and enormous striving for a better future.

          Your mom did not know her paternal grandparents: they were among millions of Jews who perished in German concentration camps during WWII. Your father did not know his maternal grandfather who died in the 1930s as a Jewish victim of Stalinist purges in the former Soviet Union. Hitler or Stalin did not care about your ancestors’ religion; they were after Jews as a race. For a long time millions of Soviet and Eastern European Jews were deprived of their religious upbringing, but nevertheless they felt strongly Jewish. As Julian Tuvim, a Polish Jewish poet put it: I am a Jew not by blood in my veins, but by blood spilled from my veins.

           Now let us talk about your American great grandparents. In the 1930s David Greenberg in whose memory you received your middle name, signed hundreds of affidavits for European Jews to facilitate their escape from Nazi Germany. Your great-grandmother, Marian Greenberg, was the first national chairman of Hadassah's Youth Aliyah, working with Henrietta Szold to rescue thousands for Jewish children from Nazi Germany. She was a delegate to five World Jewish Congresses from 1931 to 1952 and met many prominent Israelis, including David Ben Gurion. On the Greenberg property in Dutchess County,  there was a grey stone construction. In 1947, the Greenbergs allowed the Haganah, at that time fighting for the establishment of the State of Israel, to use this building for weapons tests.

           We miss very much your Grandpa Felix and Grandma Joan. They lived full and interesting lives and passed away 2 years ago within 4 months of each other. We are very happy to have with us today Felix’s brother, Uncle Max, and  Aunt Anita. Felix’s road to survival led him to Prague, Palestine and finally to America. For 45 years he played violin in Cleveland Orchestra and during the last year of his life gave a solo concert in his hometown of Altenburg, Germany. The concert was scheduled in 1933 but a 13-year-old Jewish boy was told that he could not play it because the Nazis had just came to power. The closure came 69 years later. Your Grandma Joan had an outstanding mind, she was a great navigator for our entire family, and we miss her very much. Both Felix and Joan loved you dearly and were very, very proud of you.

            Now, a few words about your grandfather, Lev Pakman, Sr., after whom you were named. A grandson of a rabbi, he was raised in Ukraine in the Jewish tradition. During the newly established Soviet regime he had to work hard to earn the right to go to college. He became a prominent engineer and during WWII marched with the Soviet Army from Volga to Berlin.

             But he was courageous not only in military battles. There was constant pressure on a person in his position to join Communist Party, but he never did, using his favorite excuse that he WAS NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Soon after the WWII he took your future grandma to the Moscow Synagogue whose entire congregation was astonished to see a Soviet Army officer in uniform reciting prayers in Hebrew. At that time, it was a considerable risk. Nothing would make him more happy than watching you on the bimah of this Temple today reading from the Torah.

             It felt like your grandfather’s life mission was to carry his Jewish torch through the most difficult Soviet times and pass it to his descendants, to YOU. He spent many years in a tiny kitchen of our Moscow apartment quietly listening to the Voice of America, BBC and Kol Israel. When emigration from the Soviet Union became possible he felt that this was the only hope for the family, for future generation, for YOU to become free, to live with dignity.

             As you know, our road to freedom was difficult. Your grandparents were not allowed to leave the Soviet Union with me, their only child. The pretext was that in the past your grandfather had been involved in classified work. It took almost 10 years of intense fight, despair and hope before the family reunited here. Lev Pakman, Sr. felt that the mission of his life was fulfilled and passed away in peace only 11 weeks after he came to this country and just two-and-a-half  years before you were born. He did not know you, but he always dreamed of you and I am sure he loves you wherever he is.

             Emigration was also difficult for your grandma Marianna. Recently she celebrated her 90th birthday and we are very happy to have her with us today. You call her babushka and you know very well what she means when she says,    “I don’t love you”.

             Your father’s side of the family went through emigration and considerable deprivations and as a result of these efforts you received the biggest gift we could give you: you were born free!

             Dear Lev, you came to our life as a miracle with your blond hair, big brown eyes and bright smile. Only a parent can fully understand the joy we feel when we watched you making every new step: crawling, walking, talking, playgroup, school, summer camp, friends etc.

            When you were a baby, Mommy and I wanted to see you every moment. We videotaped you during the day and watched the film when you were asleep. Soon after you began to talk you insisted on sleeping in our bed. It lasted for about 2 years. Under that condition, the birth of your brother Ben was even a bigger miracle. We wanted you to have each other and even though we fully understand the difficulty of sharing a lower bunk bed, or TV, or especially Mommy, we suspect that you love each other dearly and need each other not only when Yankees hit a homerun .

         Dear Lev we are very proud of your high grades in a very advanced school program, of your good achievements in Hebrew school, baseball, piano playing (when you actually practice) and, of course, in theater. You performed roles in 6 Shakespeare plays at the Bank Street Summer Camp and participated in 14 Metropolitan Opera productions singing in 5 different languages.

          Recently you performed one of the most challenging operatic parts written for your age: a spirit in “Magic Flute”. The honor of getting such a part at the Met is highly commendable. However, equally praiseworthy was your refusal to rehearse on Yom Kippur. Your courage and determination earned you considerable respect both at home and at the Met.

           Over the last three months you were under enormous pressure, working concurrently on a few major projects including your preparation for Bar Mitzvah. Congratulation! You managed very well with all of them. We believe that you have both the capacity and character to meet life’s challenges. We wish you good health, a lot of happiness and success. We also want you to remember that our love for you goes far beyond your achievements. To us you will always be a miracle that brightened our life 13 years ago and gave it special meaning.

Lev's mother's comments:

Lev, on the day you were born you amazed us just by your presence. And through the years, including today, you have continued to do amaze us. The amount of important responsibilities you undertook and fulfilled this fall -- simultaneously preparing for the New York City public high school admissions test, for auditions at the LaGuardia School, singing in the Metropolitan Opera's new production of Die Zauberflote, and preparing for your bar mitzvah -- really impressed us.

When you were three years old, and we embarked on an earlier ritual common to New York parents, that of taking you for pre-kindergarten testing, two characteristics stood out in the testers' remarks. One tester noticed your "zest" and another described "a welcome light-heartedness." Fortunately for you and for us, those qualities of yours have endured. You also have courage and determination. You set ambitious goals for yourself and work in order to reach them. And when you sang Mozart this October while sitting in a harness 30 or 40 feet above the Met stage, your knees were shaking, but your voice was strong and true.

Fittingly, your parasha today was also about voices -- specifically about whose voices will be heard -- the voice of anger and retribution, the voice of reason and compromise, or the voice of the victim. The last century created tens of millions of voiceless victims, including six million of our own people. Last week, in Jerusalem, Yad-Vashem opened -- on its website -- a catalogue of Jewish men, women and children who died in the Holocaust. I visited the site to find my grandparents, Sophie Felsen and Bernhard Freilich. The site allows you to find all the people with a given family name from a specific town who died in the Holocaust. You can also get a list of everyone who died who shared that family name. The Yad-Vashem site listed 427 people whose last name was Freilich -- spelled the way we spell it -- who died in the Holocaust.

The living, through projects like Yad-Vashem's, have tried to return some voice to these souls whose voices were silenced. But you, Lev, and other young people who become bar or bat mitzvah, also restore and renew that voice -- the voice of the Jewish people -- and its unifying commitment to Torah. Your three grandparents who are no longer with us, and your great grandparents, would be as inspired by you as we are.