There’s a story told of a poor Jewish villager who saved up all year to buy an esrog. It was a mitzvah that he held very dear. Every week, he’d put away a few rubles to be able to afford the nicest esrog possible. That year, there was a shortage on esrogim. The only esrog available to purchase was in the next town over, but for the price of 500 rubles, far more than he had saved up.
His dream of having a beautiful esrog seemed out of reach. Erev Sukkos, as the man puts away his tefillin, a thought occurred to him. He would not be needing his tefillin for the next ten days. He realized that if he pawned his tefillin, combined with his savings, he would indeed be able to afford the esrog.
The man jumped into action, sold his tefillin, and ran to the next town. The esrog was still available. He returns home with the most beautiful esrog he had ever seen. He excitedly looks for his wife to show her his surprise purchase, but she had stepped out. The man goes outside to finish building his sukkah.
And when he comes back inside, he rushes to tell his wife about his esrog. She’s standing at the kitchen table, preparing food for the upcoming yom tov. “I managed to buy an esrog,” the villager exclaimed.
“But I thought we couldn’t afford it,” replied his wife.
“Well,” explained the man, “I sold my tefillin.”
“How could you do that?,” She asked.
The man had described his earlier epiphany. “I realized this morning that the mitzvah of the day was not tefillin anymore. It was to have an esrog. After Yom Tov, I’ll worry about my tefillin. But the present mitzvah is to have an esrog.”
Smiling, his wife said, “Okay, let’s see the esrog.”
“It’s right there on the shelf,” he said, pointing to the now empty cupboard.
As the words left his mouth, his wife’s face turned white as the sudden realization dawned on her. “I thought it was a simple lemon,” she cried. “I used it to flavor the salad. I’m so sorry, but it’s gone.” The man looks at her in silence for a moment and then reaches out to comfort her.
“You aren’t upset?,” she asked. “I just destroyed your precious esrig, which you even pawned your tefillin for.”
He looked at her and explained, “Yesterday, the most important mitzvah was tefillin. This morning, it was to have an esrog. But right now, it is to be a loving husband.”
There’s a fascinating contrast found in this week’s parshah that reminds me of this story.
Two women, the wife of Potiphar and Tamar, each employ unconventional tactics for altruistic reasons. Potiphar’s wife tries to seduce Yosef, and when he refuses her advances, she frames him. And has him thrown into prison. Tamar disguises herself as a harlot and becomes pregnant from Yehudah. She is slated to be executed for her actions, but at the last moment, Yehudah reveals that it is his child and both her and the child are saved.
The Medrash explains that both eishes Potiphar and Tamar had noble intentions. They each saw with Ruach HaKodesh that they would merit to have descendants come from them. Potiphar’s wife saw Menashe and Ephraim, and Tamar saw the Davidic dynasty that would descend from her and Yehuda. However, the two women are not regarded similarly.
Eishes Potiphar is called a predator by Rashi. We see her as a villain. Tamar, on the other hand, is lauded for her efforts. What’s the difference? Why do we see Tamar in a positive light? The answer is simple and profound. It’s all great that their intentions were good, but what happens when those positive intentions do not pan out?
It’s the way they responded that determined their character. When eishes Potiphar’s plan did not work, she allowed for an innocent man to languish in prison because of her, indifferent to Yosef’s plight. When Tamar’s plan failed, she was ready to be punished and lose her life just so that she wouldn’t embarrass Yehuda.
As the saying goes, the path to hell is paved with good intentions. It’s not only about our intentions, but how we react when our plans go awry. Each moment we have to ask ourselves anew, are my current actions in line with my original intentions? When the curveball is thrown, when we face the unexpected, that’s precisely when we have to make sure that our quest for spiritual elevation doesn’t harm anyone else in the process.
Wishing you a wonderful Shabbos.
