Lofty goals, even if they are pursued with pure sincerity, do not always authorize us to suspend normal protocols of conduct. Extraordinary circumstances warrant extraordinary measures – but only to a point.
In the midst of the story of Yosef’s sale as a slave, the Torah interjects the story of Tamar, who married, successively, Yehuda’s two older sons, both of whom died young without leaving children. Yehuda refused to allow Tamar to marry his third son, and she eventually disguised herself as a prostitute and positioned herself along his travel route, so he would solicit her services.
Rashi (39:1), citing the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 85:2), makes a surprising comment in attempting to identify a point of connection between the story of Tamar and the story of Yosef. He writes that the juxtaposition between the two incidents alludes to a parallel of sorts between Tamar’s seduction of Yehuda and Potifar’s wife’s unsuccessful attempts to seduce Yosef. Just as Tamar acted “le-shem Shamayim,” with pure and sincere motives, similarly, Potifar’s wife was driven by altruistic motives. Tamar, as Rashi writes earlier (38:26), acted appropriately, as she was bound by the levirate laws to marry a relative of her deceased husband. Potifar’s wife, too, acted with sincere motives, as she saw through astrology that she would bear children from Yosef. She erred, however, as this would occur through her daughter, who later married Yosef.
This comparison drawn by the Midrash between Tamar and Potifar’s wife is startling. Tamar is generally viewed by our tradition as a righteous woman, who was very far from sexual impropriety (see Rashi to 38:15), and acted purely for the sake of the mitzva of bearing children with her late husband’s relative to perpetuate his memory. Potifar’s wife, however, is often referred to by the Sages as a wicked, immoral and lustful woman. How are we to understand this peculiar comparison?
It seems likely that the Sages of the Midrash drew this comparison for the sake of underscoring the differences between these two women and between these two incidents. Both women found themselves in a compromised situation, where a lofty goal required questionable, unconventional measures to be achieved. However, in Tamar’s case, these means were within the bounds of permissible conduct. Since she was required to marry a blood relative of her deceased husband, it was acceptable for her to act as she did (according to the accepted protocols of that time). In Potifar’s wife’s case, however, there was no justification whatsoever for her conduct. As a married woman, she was forbidden from engaging in relations with another man, regardless of any sincere and pure motives that she may have had. Even if she pursued lofty goals, she was wrong for employing forbidden means to achieve the desired end.
Extraordinary circumstances warrant extraordinary measures – but only to a point. Tamar’s act was unconventional, unusual, and far from the ideal levirate union, but was justified under the circumstances. Potifar’s wife, by contrast, had no justification despite the unusual circumstances of a “prophecy” that she sought to bring to realization. Before “bending the rules” and allowing ourselves special dispensations in light of special circumstances, we must proceed cautiously, and carefully consider whether the altruistic ends truly justify the questionable means. Lofty goals, even if they are pursued with pure sincerity, do not always authorize us to suspend normal protocols of conduct. The story of Potifar’s wife, as understood by the Sages, thus alerts us of the potential dangers of altruism, which could oftentimes lead one to unjustifiable extreme and illicit conduct.