Cunning: Skill in Achieving One’s Ends by Deceit
What Was So Wrong With Lavan?
It is written (Bereshit 3:1): וְהַנָּחָשׁ הָיָה עָרוּם מִכֹּל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה יְיָ אֱלֹקִים (And the Nachash was more arum than all the animals of the field which Hashem G-d had made). What is the meaning of עָרוּם [arum]? The Bechor Shor says it means that he spoke to the woman בחכמה ובערמה (with chochmah and with cunning). Other appropriate translations would be slyness or shrewdness. From this, we can ask a rather simple question that, surprisingly, rarely gets asked. How did the Nachash learn to be so cunning?
We have five books of the Torah, not just three and a half. What do we mean? As Rashi famously brings down in his very first comment on the Torah: אָמַר רַבִּי יִצְחָק לֹֹֹֹֹא הָיָה צָרִיךְ לְהַתְחִיל אֶת הַתּוֹרָה אֶלָּא מֵהַחֹדֶשׁ הַזֶּה לָכֶם, שֶׁהִיא מִצְוָה רִאשׁוֹנָה שֶׁנִּצְטַוּוּ בָּהּ יִשׂרָאֵל, וּמַה טַּעַם פָּתַח בִּבְרֵאשִׁית? מִשׁוּם כֹּחַ מַעֲשָׂיו הִגִּיד לְעַמּוֹ לָתֵת לָהֶם נַחֲלַת גּוֹיִם (R’ Yitzchak said, The Torah only needed to begin with ‘This month shall be to you’ [Shemot 12:2], which was the first mitzvah that Yisrael was commanded to do. And what is the reason that it opens with Bereshit? Because of ‘The power of His deeds He told to His people, to give to them the inheritance of the goyim‘ [Tehillim 111:6]). As Rashi goes on to explain, Hashem opened the Torah with Bereshit 1, and not with Shemot 12 to tell the world, ‘I am the Creator and I can do what I want with my creation. In this case, even though I will allow the goyim to settle Eretz Canaan, I am putting the world on notice that I will turn it over to B’nei Yisrael in time, and if you accuse them of being thieves and robbers, know that you are wrong, for so I will have decreed.’
This is very nice, and quite relevant for the times in which we live, but what about everything between Bereshit 1 and Shemot 12? Is it all just a nice history story? No. As we said, we have five books of Torah, not just three and a half. It’s all Torah, even the stories of Bereshit. And in certain ways, the Torah that Sefer Bereshit contains is a much deeper Torah than the Torah of positive and negative mitzvot.
For example, in Parashat Vayeitzei, we can read the story of Ya’akov and Lavan, but upon closer inspection, we may come to see that we are dealing with something infinitely more expansive than just a story of two men. On a deeper level we are dealing with two great universal archetypes, two Divine ‘aspects’ [בְּחִינוֹת, bechinot] called ‘Ya’akov’ and ‘Lavan.’ Let’s see if we can shed a little bit of light on these two bechinot.
R’ Nachman opens Likutei Moharan 12 with a simple, yet deeply profound statement: מַה שֶּׁאָנוּ רוֹאִים שֶׁעַל־פִּי הָרֹב הַלּוֹמְדִים חוֹלְקִים עַל הַצַּדִּיקִים (That which we see, that for the most part, those who learn [Torah] oppose the tzaddikim). Lest we erroneously think that this is a bad thing, he goes on to reassure us that this pattern is from Hashem, may He be blessed, that it is exactly the way He planned it and that it is designed to serve His eternal purpose. For anyone doubting the veracity of this claim, even a cursory look at Jewish history should put one’s mind at ease. If we think of the greatest tzaddikim of history – Yosef ha-Tzaddik, Moshe Rabbeinu, David ha-Melech, Yirmeyahu ha-Navi, Eliezer ha-Gadol, the Rambam, the Baal Shem Tov, the Ramchal, and even our two great luminaries in Breslov, R’ Nachman and R’ Natan – we find that each of them were opposed by the greatest talmidei chachamim of their generation.
R’ Nachman tells us that this conflict is rooted in the bechinot of Ya’akov and Lavan. Ya’akov represents the tzaddik who learns Torah for its own sake – [לִשְׁמָהּ, lishmah] – whereas Lavan represents the talmid chacham who learns lo-lishmah. He doesn’t learn for the sake of Heaven, but rather to show off, to find fault with or criticize others, to embarrass people with his superior knowledge, or to ask questions designed to trick or confuse his fellow. Ya’akov is quite happy to have his reward stored away for Olam ha-Ba, whereas Lavan is only interested in what he can gain in Olam ha-Zeh. Yaakov is interested in giving honor [כָּבוֹד, kavod] only to Hashem whereas Lavan is interested only in getting kavod (and money) for himself. Drawing upon a statement in Vayikra Rabbah 1:15, R’ Nachman writes about people like Lavan (L.M. 12): וְתַלְמִיד־חָכָם כָּזֶה נְבֵלָה טוֹבָה הֵימֶנּוּ (A carcass of a dead animal is better than a talmid chacham like this).
But surprisingly, there is one area in which it seems that Ya’akov and Lavan are the same – or at least, superficially very similar. They are both very skilled at being able to deceive others. This concept has troubled a lot of people over the years. If Lavan is a deceiver and a trickster – and yet he’s called a rasha – then how come Ya’akov Avinu is a tzaddik when he’s also known for being a deceiver and a trickster? Good question.
When Ya’akov first met Rachel, he kissed her and broke out into tears (Bereshit 29:11). The very next pasuk says something rather strange: וַיַּגֵּד יַעֲקֹב לְרָחֵל כִּי אֲחִי אָבִיהָ הוּא וְכִי בֶן־רִבְקָה הוּא וַתָּרׇץ וַתַּגֵּד לְאָבִיהָ (And Ya’akov told Rachel that he is her father’s brother, and that he is Rivkah’s son, and she ran and told her father). Now, this is a very strange comment on two accounts. First, Ya’akov was not her father’s brother. And second, if he told her that he was Rivkah’s son – which he was – then why did he need to say anything about his relationship to Lavan, Rachel’s father?
The Gemara asks this question (Megillah 13b): וְכִי אֲחִי אָבִיהָ הוּא? וַהֲלֹא בֶּן אֲחוֹת אָבִיהָ הוּא? (But was he her father’s brother? But rather, wasn’t he the son of her father’s sister?). Of course, so why does the pasuk say that Ya’akov said such a strange thing to Rachel? If you’re trying to impress your future wife, wouldn’t you want to say something that makes sense? Why say something about which the young girl could say, ‘What a dope! If he’s really my father’s brother, then he’s clearly not Aunt Rivkah’s son! Maybe he lost some of his brains on his long journey to get here.’
The Gemara answers these questions with a profound insight: אֶלָּא, אֲמַר לַהּ: מִינַּסְבָא לִי? אֲמַרָה לֵיהּ: אִין, מִיהוּ אַבָּא רַמָּאָה הוּא וְלָא יָכְלַתְּ לֵיהּ. אֲמַר לַהּ: אָחִיו אֲנָא בְּרַמָּאוּת. אֲמַרָה לֵיהּ: וּמִי שְׁרֵי לְצַדִּיקֵי לְסַגּוֹיֵי בְּרַמָּיוּתָא? אֲמַר לַהּ, אִין: ״עִם נָבָר תִּתָּבָר וְעִם עִקֵּשׁ תִּתַּפָּל״ (Rather, he [Ya’akov] said to her [Rachel], Will you marry me? She said to him, Yes; however, father [Lavan] is deceptive and you can’t [outwit] him. He said to her, I am his brother in deception. She said to him, And is it permissible for a tzaddik to be involved in deception? He said to her, Yes. ‘With the pure you shall be pure, but with the crooked, you shall be cunning’ [Shemuel Bet 22:27]). So we see the real reason why Ya’akov told Rachel that he was her father’s brother. He wasn’t referring to a physical relationship at all, but to a spiritual idea, i.e. that he was on par with him in his ability to deceive – if he needed to use the skill. And now we can understand the end of what he told her וְכִי בֶן־רִבְקָה הוּא (and that he is Rivkah’s son). He was reassuring her that even though he was skilled at deception like her father, he was really like her Aunt Rivkah, a truly righteous individual.
Now that we see that both Lavan and Ya’akov could be cunning – or, if you prefer, deceptive, shrewd or sly – we can now ask another question, From where did they learn this skill?
Shlomo ha-Melech tells us (Mishlei 8:12): אֲנִי־חׇכְמָה שָׁכַנְתִּי עׇרְמָה וְדַעַת מְזִמּוֹת אֶמְצָא (I am chochmah, I dwell [with] cunning [craftiness, slyness, shrewdness]; and I will find da’at and purpose). It is the first part of the pasuk that is our focus. Who or what is the ‘I’ in this pasuk? It is the Torah, as Rashi explains: אצל ערמה שכיון שלמד אדם תורה נכנס בו ערמימות של כל דבר (‘with cunning’, for when a person learns Torah, shrewdness enters him, about everything). This is exactly how R’ Abahu explained the pasuk (Sotah 21b): דִּכְתִיב: ״אֲנִי חׇכְמָה שָׁכַנְתִּי עׇרְמָה״, כֵּיוָן שֶׁנִּכְנְסָה חׇכְמָה בְּאָדָם נִכְנְסָה עִמּוֹ עַרְמוּמִית (As it is written, ‘I am chochmah, I dwell with cunning’ – When chochmah [i.e. the Torah] enters a person, shrewdness enters along with it).
As a side point, this fact underscores why R’ Eliezer did not want fathers teaching their daughters Torah (Sotah 21b): כׇּל הַמְלַמֵּד אֶת בִּתּוֹ תּוֹרָה מְלַמְּדָהּ תִּיפְלוּת (Anyone who teaches his daughter Torah [is as if] he teaches her promiscuity). That’s a bit of a shocking statement, but his concern was well-founded. By acquiring cunning, she might come to think that she could behave immorally and get away with it. Now, before we get emotional and mislabel R’ Eliezer a bigot or a misogynist, let’s think for a moment. If this was his concern for a bat Yisrael – who does not have a natural inclination toward niuf – then how much more would it be so for a ben Yisrael – who does have such a yetzer?Nevertheless, in spite of this risk, the Torah obligates a father to teach his son (Devarim 11:19): וְלִמַּדְתֶּם אֹתָם אֶת־בְּנֵיכֶם (And you shall teach them [i.e. ‘My words’] to your sons).
Returning to our main point, this explains how the Torah can be described as having two completely opposite potentials (Hoshea 14:10): מִי חָכָם וְיָבֵן אֵלֶּה נָבוֹן וְיֵדָעֵם כִּי־יְשָׁרִים דַּרְכֵי יְיָ וְצַדִּקִים יֵלְכוּ בָם וּפֹשְׁעִים יִכָּשְׁלוּ בָם (Whoever is wise [a talmid chacham] will understand these things, discerning [or, perceptive] and he will know them, for the paths of Hashem are upright, and the tzaddikim walk in them but the sinners [literally: criminals] stumble in them). The same Torah, yet some people are able to walk safely in it without tripping and falling, while others just stumble, trip and fall. Connecting these ideas with how Ya’akov described himself to Rachel, R’ Nachman writes (L.M. 12): וְזֶה: כִּי אֲחִי אָבִיהָ הוּא – בְּרַמָּאוּת, בִּבְחִינַת: וּפשְׁעִים יִכָּשְׁלוּ בָם; וְכִי בֶן־רִבְקָה הוּא – הַכְּשֵׁרָה, וְזֶה בְּחִינַת: צַדִּיקִים יֵלְכוּ בָם (For this is: ‘that he is her father’s brother’ – in deception, this corresponds to ‘sinners stumble in them’ [like Lavan]; ‘that he is Rivkah’s son’ – the ‘kosher one’, and this corresponds to ‘tzaddikim walk in them’ [like Ya’akov]).
We may now return to our original question. How did the Nachash learn to be so cunning? The answer should now be obvious. He studied Torah – deeply – and he continues to do so, and to review his learning, to this very day. In fact, he knows Torah much better than we do. This is why he’s such a formidable opponent. But he learned it just like Lavan learned it – lo-lishmah – for the purpose of being able to deceive and trick others, to cause them to fall, and to put them under his control and power.
And this brings us to a very interesting, although not overly surprising conclusion. The Nachash continues to have power over us because we cannot best him in Torah. However, there is one exception to the rule. And who is that? It is Mashiach. Just as we learn that the only way that Ya’akov was able to outwit (and remove himself from the clutches of) Lavan was through his Torah, so too with Mashiach – the only way he will be able to outwit the Nachash and remove himself from his clutches (and all of us too, provided that we connect to him) will be through his Torah. Therefore, Mashiach needs to be the greatest talmid chacham that the Jewish People have ever had in their midst. There is no other way. This is why the Rambam codified this fact in the Mishneh Torah (Hilchot Teshuvah 9:2): מִפְּנֵי שֶׁאוֹתוֹ הַמֶּלֶךְ שֶׁיַּעֲמֹד מִזֶּרַע דָּוִד בַּעַל חָכְמָה יִהְיֶה יֶתֶר מִשְּׁלֹמֹה. וְנָבִיא גָּדוֹל הוּא קָרוֹב לְמשֶׁה רַבֵּנוּ וּלְפִיכָךְ יְלַמֵּד כָּל הָעָם וְיוֹרֶה אוֹתָם דֶּרֶךְ השם (…because that king that will come from the offspring of David must be a greater ba’al chochmah than [even] Shlomo, and a great prophet close to Moshe Rabbeinu; therefore, he will teach the nation and instruct them in the way of Hashem).
