Parshat Emor 5786

Like Father, Like Son — and the Boundaries of Identity

On Shabbos Morning we read about the following in the Parsha

“And the son of an Israelite woman went out… and he pronounced the Name and cursed” (Vayikra 24:10–11).

Chazal and Rashi fill in the background of this tragic figure. His father was the Egyptian whom Moshe killed, and his identity was unstable from the outset—Egyptian father, Israelite mother. According to the Midrash, his “going out” was not merely physical; he “went out” from his place, from his people, and ultimately from his עולם—his spiritual portion.

The Midrash adds a striking detail: his downfall began not with rebellion, but with cynicism. He mocked the mitzvah of lechem hapanim: “A king eats fresh bread every day—would G-d eat nine-day-old bread?” What begins as intellectual scorn quickly becomes existential alienation.

That alienation becomes concrete when he attempts to pitch his tent in the camp of Dan. The tribe refuses him, citing the principle that tribal identity follows the father: “Each man by his father’s household.” He is rejected—not fully Egyptian, not fully Israelite. He stands at the margins.

He then goes to Moshe’s court—and loses the case.

At that moment, the Torah says: “He went out… and he cursed.”

Like Father, Like Son

There is a powerful and tragic symmetry here.

Rashi notes that his father, the Egyptian, had struck a Jew. Chazal explains that Moshe killed him using the Divine Name. The Gemara teaches that striking a Jew is akin to striking the Shechinah itself—an indirect assault on G-d.

Now consider the son:

• The father attacked a Jew → an indirect attack on G-d → punished with death.
• The son attacks G-d directly → by cursing with the very same Divine Name.

The same Name that brought justice upon the father becomes the instrument of rebellion for the son.

Like father, like son—but intensified. What was indirect becomes direct. What was physical becomes spiritual. The trajectory continues, but in a more severe form.

Why the Interruption?

Right at this point, the Torah interrupts the narrative with a series of laws:

• Murder
• Bodily injury (“eye for an eye”)
• Damages to animals
• משפט אחד — equal justice

At first glance, this seems unrelated. But in light of the story, the placement is precise and profound.

The Torah is teaching:

An attack on a human being—especially a Jew—is not merely interpersonal. It is theological.

Just as this particular Egyptian’s violence was considered an affront to G-d, so too all violence and harm carry divine implications. האדם נברא בצלם אלוקים—man is created in the image of G-d.

Thus:

• Harming a person = harming the Divine image
• Cursing G-d = the ultimate extension of that same breakdown

The laws are not an interruption—they are the explanation.

A Deeper Layer: Justice with Dignity

But there is another dimension.

Right after emphasizing that harming a person is like harming G-d, the Torah outlines a system of precise, measured justice. This teaches a second, balancing truth:

Even when someone has done something terrible—even blasphemy—we must administer justice with care, restraint, and dignity.

Why?

Because even the guilty party is still b’tzelem Elokim.

The same Torah that equates harm to man with harm to G-d insists that punishment be calibrated, just, and humane.

Identity and Its Consequences

The blasphemer’s tragedy is not just about sin—it is about identity.

• He lacked rootedness
• He mocked what he did not understand
• He sought belonging and was rejected
• He lost his case in court
• And in that moment, he chose destruction

His story teaches that כאשר אדם “יוצא”—when a person steps outside of their moral and spiritual framework—the collapse can be swift.

But the Torah’s response is equally powerful:

It reasserts the sanctity of human life, the gravity of harming others, and the necessity of just and dignified law.

The Takeaway

The juxtaposition teaches two inseparable truths:

1. Human beings are sacred — harming them is an affront to G-d.
2. Justice must be sacred — even when punishing wrongdoing, we must preserve dignity.

The blasphemer failed on both fronts—he severed himself from his people and from G-d.

The Divrei Torah above was taken from Rav Yochanan Zweig Shlita and

Rav Itche Meir Morgenstern Shlita all credit goes to them.

Have a fantastic week!