Vayechi: Good and Pleasant
When Jacob sensed his earthly demise nearing, he called in his twelve sons and offered his parting blessings to those future progenitors of the twelve tribes of Israel. When it came time to bless his son Issachar, Jacob compared Issachar to a strong donkey, saying “and he saw rest for it is good [tov], and the land for it is good [na’eimah], and he inclined his shoulder for burdening” (Gen. 49:14). When it came to blessing his son Naphtali, Jacob compared Naphtali to a swift gazelle, “who gives good sayings [imrei shafer]” (Gen. 49:21). In this essay, we will examine the words na’im/noam (of which na’eimah is an inflection) and shapir/shefer (of which shafer is an inflection) to better understand how these two ostensibly synonyms convey slightly different ideas. For example, a single verse uses both of these terms in tandem, when King David notes his satisfaction with his lot: “Portions have fallen to me in the good [ba’neimim] / even my inheritance has been good [shafrah] upon me” (Ps. 16:6).
The triliteral root SHIN-PEH-REISH in Biblical Hebrew conveys notions of “beauty,” “improvement,” and overall “goodness.” For example, a verb form of this root appears in the phrase, "By His breath the heavens were made good [shafrah] (Job 26:13)." Here, a cognate of shapir suggests an act of beautification or enhancement, describing how Hashem’s creative power perfects the heavens, making them splendid and orderly. In Biblical Aramaic, the word shfar appears three times (Dan. 3:32, 4:24, 6:2) in the context of a king’s approval, with something being “good” or “appropriate” in his eyes. The Aramaic term shapir in Babylonian Talmud discourse primarily functions as an adverb meaning "well" or "appropriately." For example, it is used in discussions to affirm the correctness or logical validity of an argument (ati shapir or shapir ka’amar), indicating that something has been done properly or fittingly. This usage aligns with the root's association with “goodness” and “improvement,” suggesting that the matter in question meets a certain ideal standard.
As Rabbi Eliyahu Bachur documents in his work Meturgaman, the Targumim often use the word shapir or variants thereof in translating two sets of relevant Biblical Hebrew terms. The first set consists of Biblical Hebrew terms that denote “approval,” which literally translate into something being good (tov) in the approver’s eyes. In such cases, the Hebrew tov is rendered by Targum as shapir (see Lev. 10:20, Num. 24:1, although in some versions of the Targum, the Aramaic word used is actually takin). Similarly, in the context of “physical beauty,” Targum tends to translate the Biblical Hebrew words tov (e.g., Gen. 6:2, I Sam. 8:16, 9:2, I Kgs. 20:3)and yafeh (e.g., Gen. 12:11, 29:17, 41:2) into Aramaic as shapir.
Interestingly, Rabbi Moshe Shapiro (1935–2017) claims that the Hebrew/Aramaic word shapir (“good”, “bettering”, “nice”) uses the rare shiphal inflection. He explains that this word shares its root with the words tiferet/pe’er (“glory” or “beauty”), which are traced to the root PEH-(ALEPH)-REISH. He argues that the SHIN at the beginning of shapir serves as a grammatical function denoting an action that leads to the creation of pe’er. As an aside, a popular folk etymology connects the ancient Jewish surname Shapiro/Shapira to the Hebrew word shapir, although historians presume that it is more plausibly derived from the name of the German town Speyer. [For more about the word shefer/shapir and how it relates to shofar, see “The Shofar’s Horn” (Sep. 2022).]
In his work Yeriot Shlomo, Rabbi Shlomo Pappenheim explains that the triliteral root NUN-AYIN-MEM from whence noam derives is itself actually a derivative of the biliteral root AYIN-MEM, plus the extra initial NUN. That two-letter root is also the etymon of the word im (“with”), leading Rabbi Pappenheim to explaining that one tends to bond with that which he considers “good” or “pleasant/enjoyable.” In this way, the pleasantness ofnaim/noam focuses on this rapturous property of pleasant things to which one wishes to connect. In his work Cheshek Shlomo, Rabbi Pappenheim offers a similar approach, further reducing the biliteral root AYIN-MEM to the monoliteral root AYIN, whose core meaning refers to “movement.” The way Rabbi Shamshon Raphael Hirsch (to Gen. 5:30) explains it, noam relates to "movement" (NUN-AYIN) because something "pleasant" has the power to arouse/encourage/inspire a person and cause him to move towards achieving a specific goal. [For more about the word naim in the gastronomical sense of “sweet,” see “Sweet and Pleasant” (Jan. 2018).]
From an onomastic perspective, various personal names are derived from the word noam, including the Biblical Hebrew names Naomi (wife of Elimelech in the Book of Ruth), Naamah (the daughter of Lemech in Gen. 4:22, and also the wife of King Solomon in I Kgs. 14:21, 14:31, and II Chron. 12:13), and Naaman (Aramean general in II Kgs. 5:2-27), as well as the Arabic name Naim and the Modern Hebrew name Noam.
Going back to Jacob’s blessings for Issachar and Naphtali, rabbinic exegesis explicates both of these blessings as references to Torah study. In other words, the Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah §98:12) explains that when Jacob blessed Issachar that he should view “rest” and “the land” as good (tov and na’eimah), this means that Issachar should recognize the Torah as good. The Zohar (Vayechi 242b) further explains that “rest” refers to the Written Torah, while “the land” refers to the Oral Torah. Likewise, when Jacob blesses Naphtali to be the one who “gives good sayings [imrei shafer],” the Midrash (Midrash Shocher Tov to Ps. 81:4) understands that this refers to spreading the Torah (in a way that is reminiscent of the English word gospel, which is derived from the Old English god spell, meaning “good message”). In fact, the Talmud (Sotah 13a) connects the word shafer with sefer, meaning “book” (via the interchangeability of SHIN/SIN and SAMECH), with Midrash Aggadah (to Gen. 49:21) adding that this means that Jacob blessed the tribe of Naphtali in that their Torah students should be especially clever.
When all said and done, it turns out that Jacob gave essentially the same blessing to both Issachar and Naphtali — that they should excel in their Torah studies. The only difference between the blessings is the verbiage used, as when giving Issachar this blessing Jacob used a cognate of noam and when giving Naphtali this blessing, Jacob used a cognate of the word shapir.
In practice, tradition teaches us that it is the Tribe of Issachar who is more associated with mastery of Torah than the Tribe of Naphtali. For example, the Bible relates that the Jewish People would consult with the Children of Issachar, who were known to have a particularly deep understanding of Torah (I Chron. 12:33). Targum pseudo-Jonathan (to Gen. 46:13) relates that the descendants of Issachar were wisemen and masters of calculations. The Talmud (Yoma 26a) even relates that the Torah Scholars who served as Halachic decisors generally came from the Tribe of Levi or the Tribe of Issachar.
To me, it seems that the key to understanding the difference between the fate of Naphtali and the fate of Issachar lies in the different terms Jacob used when blessing them — noam versus shapir. With that long introduction, we can now broach the question of how these two synonyms differ from one another. The question is be compounded when one consults with Ibn Janach’s and Radak’s respective Sefer HaShorashim, as both of those works define both shapir and noam as yofi. Using the same word to define both of those terms strengthen our question as to what the difference between them ought to be. [Menachen Ibn Saruk in Machberet Menachem defines shapir as noam, but defines noam as hadar (“beauty”).]
Rabbi Avraham Bedersi, in his work Chotam Tochnit (the first known book that attempts to differentiate between synonyms in the Hebrew language), has an entry in which he treats the words shapir and noam as synonyms. He attempts at differentiating between these two terminologies by defining each of those two words with different term: he defines noam as yofi (“beauty”) and he defines shefer as tov (“good/positive”). But what exactly is he trying to say?
In reflecting on Chotam Tochnit — and I freely admit that I am probably reading too much into his words — it struck me that he seems to differentiate between noam and shapir in quite a profound way. While both words refer to a positive quality (“good”), I think he is trying to explain noam as reflecting subjective positivity — it speaks to “beauty” that resonates on a deeply personal and emotional level. As the cliché states, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” This concept is codified in rabbinic discourse, as the rule of the Beautiful Captive (Eshet Yefat Toar) applies so long as the woman taken is "beautiful" in their eyes of her Jewish captives, even if she is not objectively beautiful in the eyes of others (see Kiddushin 22a, Sifrei Ki Teitzei §211, and Ibn Ezra to Deut. 21:11). When Jacob described Issachar as recognizing the Torah as noam, this refers to their personal subjective in the recognition of the Torah’s positive attributes (like “beauty”). By contrast, in connecting the term shapir with tov, Rabbi Bedersi seems to associate shapir with objective positivity — a value that is universally recognized as having a “good” disposition, regardless of one’s own personal perceptions.
This distinction carries a powerful lesson about how we relate to Torah and its teachings. Both Naftali and Issachar were blessed with success in Torah, yet Issachar's success in Torah Study was decidedly greater. Why? Because Issachar experienced Torah as subjectively good — they felt its beauty and pleasantness on a personal level. For them, Torah was not merely an abstract ideal of universal goodness, something that might be “objectively” valuable, but still distant or external to them personally. Instead, the Issacharites internalized the Torah’s teachings and allowed them to resonate with their innermost being, creating a personal connection. This dynamic invites us to reflect on the growth mindset — a concept foundational to self-help literature — which emphasizes the importance of intrinsic motivation over extrinsic validation. To truly succeed, one must not only recognize the inherent goodness of a goal or value (the objective positivity, shapir), but must also experience it as personally meaningful and fulfilling (subjective positivity, noam).
In personal correspondence, Rabbi Shaul Goldman takes another approach to understand the distinction that Chotam Tochnit is getting at. Rabbi Goldman wrote that even if both terms are meant as subjective, they refer to different qualities. The way he reads Rabbi Bedersi’s explanation, noam relates to attraction and desire — something that draws us in, that we find desirable or attractive, like “beauty.” This term applies whether or not said attraction is based on objective qualities (like how “beauty” might stem from objective facts or values, like features such as symmetry, color, or form) or entirely subjective metrics. Shapir, on the other hand, refers simply to overall positivity. It speaks more broadly to something being “good” or “fitting,” without necessarily carrying any sense of personal appeal or elegance.
As Rabbi Goldman explains, this becomes clear when applied to intellectual or rhetorical ideas. A strong logical argument may not always be elegant or beautiful, and an elegant or well-crafted analytical insight is not always inherently good or practical. Even when something is subjectively “good,” this does not mean that it is necessarily attractive and desirable. Something can be considered “good” —like a piece of “good advice”—even if it does not resonate with us emotionally or its implications are hard to accept.
All the different ways of explaining the phrase imrei shefer in the Targumim and Midrashim echo this basic understanding. Those various sources associate that phrase with “good tidings,” “thanksgiving and blessings to Hashem,” “agricultural fecundity,” “ song,” “verbal cleverness” and even the shofar (“ram’s horn”). Together, these vastly different explanations suggest that Naftali embodies a quick mind with sharp communication skills — someone instinctively persuasive, articulate, and effective even with a hostile interlocutor.
In contrast, Issacharis portrayed as a grounded and diligent scholar, devoting himself to Torah study with consistent effort and deep focus. The metaphor of the donkey invokes the image of a surefooted, solid beast of burden, which precisely underscores Issachar’sstudious role: steadfast, strong, and determined. He represents the scholar who toils in deep learning, the sage who has mastered Torah knowledge, and the Halachic decisor, whose advice and insight guide others. When the Jewish People needed advice as a collective, it was the Issacharite scholar who was consulted.
While Naphtali represents the Torah rhetorician (the darshan, maggid shiur, the pulpit lecturer, or otherwise articulate cosmopolitan advocates on the speaking circuit), Issachar is the cloistered, serious scholar who finds value in labor and contentment with simplicity, embracing the peace of being satisfied with one’s lot.
Rabbi Goldman takes this a step further in arguing that the origins of these two tribes further reflect their differences. Issachar was born from a deliberate and practical exchange between Leah and Rachel — a "transaction" whereby Leah traded her son’s mandrakes for an extra night with Jacob(Gen. 30:14–18)— and thus represents earned reward through effort. Naphtali,on the other hand, is the product of Rachel’s prayers and struggles, as well as her passivity and quiet selflessness in offering her handmaiden Bilhah to Jacob (Gen. 30:3–9). In doing so, she was simply following the precedent of Sarah giving Hagar to Abraham as a second wife and was following what may be termed a “cultural inertia.”
This distinction sheds light on the broader contrast between Issachar and Naphtali. Issachar, whose tribe is characterized by toil, diligence, and constancy, reflects a life of purposeful action and earned achievement. His relationship with the Torah is expressed with the term noam (“goodness/pleasantness”) that emerges through effort, the serene satisfaction of hard-won success. Naphtali, by contrast, represents imrei shefer — words of beauty and inspiration that arise not from toil, but from a place of struggle, yearning, and Divine grace. His existence is rooted in Rachel’s prayerful submission and her acceptance of circumstances beyond her control. Naftali’s name speaks to swiftness and lightness, a reflection of his spiritual essence: the beauty of connection to Hashem achieved not through laborious effort, but through the vulnerability of faith, trust, surrender, and the ability to quickly adapt to one’s circumstances.
חזק חזק ונתחזק - סיימנו ספר בראשית
