Towards the end of Parashat Emor, the Torah relates a difficult and painful story – the story of the blasphemer.

There came out among the Israelites one whose mother was Israelite and whose father was Egyptian. And a fight broke out in the camp between that half-Israelite and a certain Israelite.

The son of the Israelite woman pronounced the Name in blasphemy, and he was brought to Moses—now his mother’s name was Shelomith daughter of Dibri of the tribe of Dan (Vayikra 24:10-11).

 

The description of the antihero in this story is somewhat strange. While the Torah will inform us of his name – together with the names of his mother and grandfather and their tribe – it does not choose to offer that information when he is first introduced: “There came out among the Israelites one whose mother was Israelite and whose father was Egyptian…”

 

The background information about what led to their fight is also unclear. The Torah simply states: “a fight broke out,” but we do not know what they were fighting about beyond the fact that the blasphemer – who had questionable heritage – was involved. It appears that the blasphemy came about as a result of the fight, which leads him to be placed in custody until his status and punishment could be determined. Ultimately, he comes to a bad end.

 

From the story in the Torah, it is clear that the Torah did not seek to cover up or conceal his identity, since it did not refrain from naming his family, tribe and offering other additional details. Therefore, it is reasonable to ask why the Torah chose to begin telling the story by leaving out these identifying details. We find several attempts in the midrash to fill in the gaps in the story and attempt to understand what so infuriated the man, causing him to reach the level of blasphemy.

 

One suggestion that is raised, points to the blasphemer’s heritage as the cause of the fight. This approach fits nicely with the biblical text – the emphasis on the man’s questionable background and his foreignness leads us to think that this is the issue that caused the fight.

Rabbi Hiyya taught: He “came out” because of his lineage.

He came to pitch his tent in the encampment of the Tribe of Dan,

And they said to him: What are you doing pitching your tent in the encampment of Dan?

He said to them: I was born to one of the daughters of the tribe of Dan.

They said to him: Scripture says “Each-one by its contingent, under the insignias of their Fathers’ House” (Bamidbar 2:2). This means their father’s tribe and not their mother’s.

 

This is a heart-wrenching story. The son of the Egyptian man is rejected by the Tribe of Dan because his genealogical connection to them is through his mother and not through his father. For this reason, he is not deserving of a place within their encampment. Based on his heritage through his Egyptian father, however, he is not deserving of a place with any other tribe. This rejection is what leads him down a path to blasphemy and annihilation.

 

Issues of family heritage are complicated and highly charged. Traditional Jewish sources view these laws as deserving special attention, to the extent that when questions arise, greater stringencies are applied, using the Talmudic dictum: “the Sages established a higher standard with regard to matters of lineage.” Entire portions of the Torah, of Navi and of Ketuvim are dedicated to lists tracking different families and their heritage. The Book of Ezra emphasizes this point, as it becomes clear that each family returning from the Diaspora came holding his family “Roots project” that tracked the family lineage. We find many laws discussed by the rabbinic sages that are connected with this, beginning with the question of determining the status of a newborn as a kohen, levi or yisrael or if they are to be considered a mamzer. There is the discussion of how to determine the status of a shetuki, about whom we have no information regarding the parents. Many laws require clarification of people’s family status, e.g., “One who marries a Kohenet [the daughter of a kohen] needs to investigate her status with regard to four mothers…” (Mishnah Kiddushin 4:4). Another such law is the requirement for havhanah – the stipulation that a woman have a “cooling off period” between marriages to ensure that we can determine paternity should the woman become pregnant. There is even such a requirement when a couple converts and there is no question about paternity; still there is a desire to determine whether or not at the moment of conception the parents were Jewish.  

 

There are many such discussions in rabbinic literature, and not only in halakhic literature. There are many sources that raise these issues in aggadic stories. One of the most surprising is the story of Rabbi Yohanan who travels to Babylonia from the Land of Israel. His student, Zeiri, who is always quick to learn Rabbi Yohanan’s Torah refuses to marry his daughter because of the questionable lineage of the Jews living in Israel who had returned there from Babylonian in the time of Ezra. This pained Rabbi Yohanan, who complained bitterly, saying: “Our Torah is fit and worthy of honor in your eyes, and yet our daughters are not fit?” 

 

In contrast to this position is the popular expression that compares family lineage with potatoes – in both cases the better part is in the ground. This statement seeks to emphasize the importance of a person’s character, values and ethics. The idea is to consider the possibility of starting “from scratch” without being chained to the past, allowing every individual to establish their own “lineage.” In truth, there exists a position in Jewish law that modifies the requirement of clear lineage, for example by stating that “a family that has become assimilated – whose flawed lineage is unknown to the public – has already become assimilated,” and is accepted (see Kiddushin 71a). The Gemara relates a story about a person who was called “bar arma’ah” (son of an Aramean), and Rav Yosef declared that he could have arranged for him to be accepted as Jewish.

 

With this approach in mind, the midrash in Vayikra Rabbah on Parashat Emor places at the forefront the misery of son of the Egyptian man who is rejected by his mother’s tribe, describing the pain of the children who committed no sin, but are ridiculed and condemned for the sins of their fathers.

There came out among the Israelites one whose mother was Israelite and whose father was Egyptian. Regarding that which is written: “I further observed all the oppression that goes on under the sun” (Kohelet 4:1).   

Daniel the Tailor interpreted the verse as referring to Mamzerim. "The tears of the oppressed", the fathers of these sinned, and these [the children] are shamed, how does it concern them?

So too, this one's father committed incest, what is the child's sin, and how does it concern him?

"And they have no comforter", rather "their oppressors are empowered", this refers to Israel's Great Sanhedrin, who comes at them with the power of Torah, and pushes them away in the name of "a mamzer will not enter the community of the Lord." (Devarim 23:3). 

 

This midrash criticizes the Sanhedrin that comes at the mamzer with the power of Torah, distancing him even though he committed no crime. “The fathers of these sinned, and these [the children] are shamed.” Being forced out of the community creates unbearable suffering. The most basic right of existence is denied to man by forces over which he has no control.

 

It turns out that there exists significant movement between the desire for religious purity of lineage and openness to acceptance and inclusion, as is evident from the different midrashim on Parashat Emor. Some view the heritage of the Egyptian man as the underlying cause of blasphemy. They view the story as a warning to keep such people far away from the community, showing greater concern for the purity of the community than to the plight of the individual. Others read the story in a more critical fashion, arguing that it teaches us the price of rejecting the oppressed and abused.

 

The ability of the Jewish people to survive over the centuries comes from its success in fencing themselves off from the outside, with strict rules imposed on the structure of the family and its foundations. But the inner strength of the Jewish people comes from justice and compassion. Indeed, at the end of the parasha, it is not only the blasphemer who pays a price. The Torah now also details the laws of assault, a set of laws that seems to refer to those in the camp who were inclined towards violence, hinting at their punishment. The blasphemer’s punishment is carried out only after these laws are taught. Perhaps there is still room to show respect to his humanity. Perhaps this death could have been prevented.