Today we begin Sefer Yoel, the second of the books in Trei Asar (the Twelve Minor Prophets). The Men of the Great Assembly canonized Sefer Yoel and arranged it second in order, between Hoshea and Amos: "The word of the Lord that came to Yoel the son of Petuel." One of the great mysteries from the very opening of the book is: who was this Yoel the son of Petuel? The Ibn Ezra states that we have no way of knowing his generation - we cannot know who he was or in what era he lived. Nevertheless, in Chazal we find several traditions, which we will examine.
First, Rashi cites a drashah of Chazal: Yoel the son of Petuel was the son of Shmuel HaNavi, who "persuaded God with his prayer" (*piteh la'El bitefilato*). Who is Petuel? Petuel is Shmuel. Why is he called Petuel? Because he persuaded God (*piteh la'El*) through his prayer. And even though Scripture states that Shmuel's sons did not walk in their father's ways, the sefarim note that they may have repented later in life.
Rashi brings another explanation: that this prophecy was delivered during the seven years of famine of which Elisha said, "for the Lord has called for a famine," in the days of Yehoram son of Achav. According to this view, it occurred in a much later era, and Yoel was not the son of Shmuel. During that period, four years brought four varieties of locusts, followed by three years of drought, completing the seven years. Why do we associate him with that era? Because here Scripture describes a time of famine and locusts, and there too a severe famine occurred, leading commentators to connect the two events.
Rashi cites yet another opinion, recorded in Halachot Gedolot and Seder Olam: Yoel, Nachum, and Chavakuk prophesied in the days of Menasheh. Once again, this places him in a much later era. Why then did Scripture not explicitly state "in the days of Menasheh," as it does with other prophets? Because Menasheh was wicked, the text avoided mentioning his name. This is a third opinion regarding his era.
There is an opinion in the Yalkut explaining why he was called Petuel: because he curled his hair like a maiden (*mesalsel bise'aro ke-betulah zot*). Petuel is reminiscent of Betuel, from the root *betulah* (maiden). What does it mean that he curled his hair like a maiden? The simple understanding is that he was a nazir whose hair grew long and curly, since a nazir may not shave his head.
However, an allegorical explanation is brought in the work *Kiflayim LeTushiyah*, quoted by the Malbim, based on the Gemara in Rosh Hashanah (26b). The Sages did not understand the verse, "Esteem her (*salseleha*), and she will exalt you" (Mishlei 4:8) - what does *salseleha* mean? One day they heard the maidservant of Rebbe (Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi) say to a man who was arranging and curling his hair, "How long will you curl (*mesalsel*) your hair?" They realized that *salseleha* means to adorn and beautify. Applied to Torah study, this means one must strive to adorn and beautify the teachings of the Torah - providing reasons and illuminating how rabbinic expositions fit naturally into the verses. According to this, Yoel merited prophecy because he "curled his hair," meaning he deeply engaged with the verses of Torah, beautifying and clarifying them. This is an exposition by way of drash, whereas the literal understanding is that he was a nazir.
The Maharsha raised a question: Chazal state that four prophets prophesied in a single era - Hoshea, Yeshayahu, Amos, and Michah. If Yoel was the son of Shmuel, he should have preceded Hoshea! Why was he placed after Hoshea in the order of Trei Asar? On the other hand, if he prophesied in the days of Menasheh, he should have been placed after Yeshayahu, Amos, and Michah, during the final era before the exile. Thus, the chronological placement of Sefer Yoel remains an intriguing difficulty. So much for the identity of Yoel son of Petuel; let us now proceed to the text.
Yoel's prophecy begins: "Hear this, you elders, and give ear, all inhabitants of the land! Has such a thing ever happened in your days, or in the days of your fathers?" He calls upon the elders and all the dwellers of the land to consider whether such an event has ever transpired: "Tell your children about it, and let your children tell their children, and their children another generation." About what? "What the gazam left, the arbeh ate; what the arbeh left, the yelek ate; and what the yelek left, the chasil ate."
These upcoming verses illustrate what he calls upon them to marvel at: a severe and unprecedented plague of locusts destined to strike the land, which the prophet announces in advance. He begins by addressing the elders: "Hear this, you elders." Why open with the elders? Because they know history better than anyone else. A person of a hundred or a hundred and ten years old remembers the past: "Ask your elders, and they will tell you." Ask them: "Has such a thing ever happened in your days?" The prefix *hei* denotes wonderment: has anything like this occurred in your lifetime, or even in the days of your ancestors?
What is meant by "in the days of your fathers"? There was once an extraordinary locust plague in the days of Moshe in Egypt. Rashi on the Torah addresses an obvious difficulty: regarding the plague in Egypt, Scripture states, "before it there were no such locusts, neither after it shall be such" (Shemot 10:14). Yet here Yoel implies that this upcoming plague will have no equal in history! How can these two statements be reconciled? We must conclude that each locust plague had a unique quality that the other lacked. What occurred in Egypt was unprecedented in one respect, and what occurred in the days of Yoel was unprecedented in another.
In what way? Rashi on the Chumash explains that Yoel's locust plague was heavier than Moshe's because it consisted of multiple species: *gazam*, *arbeh*, *yelek*, and *chasil* - four distinct varieties of locusts. In Moshe's plague, by contrast, there was only a single species, unmatched in its sheer abundance. The Re'em elaborates: in total volume, no swarm ever equaled the billions in the days of Moshe; but in the diversity of destructive species, the plague of Yoel was entirely unprecedented.
This prompts a question raised by the Ramban and the Radak: how can one claim that Moshe's plague consisted of only one species? Tehillim states regarding the Exodus: "He gave their produce to the chasil... and the yelek without number" (Tehillim 78:46, 105:34). David HaMelech explicitly mentions *arbeh*, *chasil*, and *yelek* in Egypt! The Radak answers that *arbeh* was the primary species in Egypt, while the others accompanied it only as secondary companions. Since *arbeh* constituted the overwhelming bulk of the swarm, the Torah mentions only it. In summary: Moshe's plague was greater in sheer quantity, whereas Yoel's plague was unique in the severe combination of multiple species attacking sequentially.
The Malbim explains: first the prophet says, "Hear this, you elders" - addressing the elders who, by virtue of their long years, remember history. Then he adds, "and give ear, all inhabitants of the land" - calling on all residents to transmit this extraordinary event to future generations. Corresponding to the elders, he asks: "Has such a thing ever happened in your days?" Corresponding to all inhabitants of the land, he instructs: "Tell your children about it, and let your children tell their children, and their children another generation." The Malbim also notes the distinction between hearing (*shemi'ah*) and giving ear (*ha'azanah*): *shemi'ah* represents deeper, direct comprehension of the primary subject, while *ha'azanah* applies to the broader, secondary audience.
"What the gazam left, the arbeh ate; what the arbeh left, the yelek ate; and what the yelek left, the chasil ate." Rashi explains that these are four types of locusts. The prophet warns that they will come and consume all the fruit of the trees and the green of the field. Note a further difference from the plague of Egypt: whereas Egypt faced one massive onslaught, here four species came in successive waves across four consecutive years. What the first species spared in the first year was consumed by the second in the next year, followed by the third, until the fourth devoured whatever remained, leaving total desolation.
Why are they called *gazam*, *arbeh*, *yelek*, and *chasil*? The Radak and Ibn Ezra explain: *gazam* shears (*gozem*) and cuts down the standing stalk. *Arbeh* is the most numerous (*merubeh*) and common variety. *Yelek* licks up (*lokek*) and grazes the lower vegetation. And *chasil* finishes off and terminates (*mechasel*) everything completely. It appears last because it leaves behind absolute ruin, sparing nothing.
"Awake, you drunkards, and weep! And wail, all you drinkers of wine, over the sweet wine, for it is cut off from your mouth." To those accustomed to indulging in wine, the prophet says: wake from your stupor and weep, for the locusts will destroy the vineyards and leave no grapes for winemaking. The Malbim notes that "drunkards" refers to those sunken in deep intoxication, who must now awaken and lament; "drinkers of wine" refers to moderate drinkers who partake for pleasure. Both groups are urged to wail over the *asis* (sweet wine) cut off from their mouths. What is *asis*? It is fresh juice extracted through crushing and pressing, related to the root in *va'asotem resha'im* ("and you shall tread upon the wicked"), denoting the treading and squeezing of grapes. That freshly pressed wine will be no more.
The reason: "For a nation has come up upon my land, mighty and without number; its teeth are the teeth of a lion, and it has the fangs of a fierce lion." Who is this "nation" (*goy*)? These are metaphorical terms portraying the locust swarm. Why are locusts called a nation? The Radak explains that any large congregation of living creatures can be called a *goy* or an *am*, as in Mishlei: "The ants are a people (*am*) not strong" (Mishlei 30:25), and "the badgers are a people not mighty" (ibid. 30:26). The Malbim explains that they march as a cohesive, unified body, like a disciplined nation. This swarm is "mighty" in destructive power and "without number" in quantity. "Its teeth are the teeth of a lion, and it has the fangs of a fierce lion (*lavi*)" - its cutting teeth resemble a lion's, and its molars (*matla'ot*), which crush and grind, are like those of a formidable lion. As the Malbim writes, the metaphor emphasizes that these pests will utterly consume everything with sharp, crushing jaws.
"He has laid my vine waste, and splintered my fig tree; he has stripped it clean and cast it away, its branches are made white." Here the past tense is used to convey the future certainty of the prophecy, just as earlier: "What the gazam left, the arbeh ate." As observed throughout Tanach, prophets perceive future visions so vividly that they describe them as already accomplished. In the prophetic vision, the destruction has already occurred.
What is the meaning of "He has laid my vine waste, and splintered my fig tree"? The Radak offers a second explanation: the prophet is placing these words into the mouths of the people. When the locusts arrive, the inhabitants will cry out in agony: "He has laid my vine waste!" What does *le-ketzafah* mean? The Radak interprets it as wrath and a curse; Targum Yonatan translates it as grief and heartbreak. Others explain *ketzafah* as bark, related to "foam (*ketzef*) upon the water." The locusts strip the bark of the trees, gnawing on the bark itself, for locusts destroy not only the fruit but the trees themselves. If read as wrath, the tree becomes an object of fury; if read as peeling, it means the outer layer was completely stripped bare.
"He has stripped it clean and cast it away." The bark of the fig and the vine is cast aside, exposing the bare wood. Consequently, "its branches are made white" (*hilbinu sarigeha*). The branches, usually covered by dark or green bark, appear stark white once peeled bare.
The word *hilbinu* is grammatically noteworthy. The commentators explain that *hilbinu* functions here as an intransitive verb (*po'al omed*). While the *hif'il* form typically indicates a transitive action - causing something else to whiten - here it means that the branches themselves became white (*lavnu*). As the Malbim notes, Scripture occasionally employs this form intransitively, as in "they shall turn white (*yalbinu*) as snow" (Yeshayahu 1:18), meaning they will become white.
"Lament (*eli*) like a maiden girded with sackcloth for the husband of her youth." *Eli* is an expression of lamentation, related to *elalai*. The Radak explains that this is addressed to the Congregation of Israel: mourn deeply over this catastrophe, like a young bride who loses the husband of her youth. In the prime of their love and innocence, before the burdens of life set in, he is suddenly taken from her. Her grief is profound; instead of her wedding finery, she girds herself with sackcloth. So too, the people are urged to mourn bitterly.
The Malbim offers a profound allegorical reading: the prophet is not addressing the people, but poetically personifying the stricken vine and fig tree as the mourners themselves! This connects directly to the following verses: "The meal offering and the drink offering are cut off from the house of the Lord; the priests mourn... The field is ruined, the ground mourns..." The devastated vine cries out because a foreign swarm has invaded its land and stripped it bare. Why is the vine compared to a maiden girded with sackcloth? In antiquity, when a tree was stripped of its bark, farmers would wrap the trunk in burlap sackcloth to keep it warm and protect it from the elements, encouraging it to produce new shoots. Moreover, the Gemara in Niddah (8b) uses the term *betulah* (virgin) for an unpruned tree (*betulat shikmah*). The vine trunk, unpruned until now, is like a virgin, while its upper branches are called *ba'al* because they rise above (*me'al*) the trunk. Now that these upper branches have been severed, the trunk is swaddled in sackcloth, yearning to sprout anew. The Malbim describes this as a magnificent poetic metaphor.
"The meal offering and the drink offering are cut off from the house of the Lord; the priests mourn, the ministers of the Lord." *Huchrat* means cut off, vocalized with a chataf kamatz. Meal offerings and wine libations brought to the Beit HaMikdash were derived from the land's agricultural produce. With the harvest obliterated, none remained for the Temple service. As the Radak notes, when the people lack basic food and drink, from where could they supply meal offerings and libations? "The priests mourn, the ministers of the Lord" - the Kohanim subsisted on the offerings brought to the altar, and with the sacrifices halted, their sustenance vanished. The Malbim adds that their grief was not merely personal; as servants devoted to the house of God, their primary pain was seeing the Temple standing desolate and devoid of offerings.
A grammatical note: the Radak observes that *minchah* is feminine, so one might have expected *huchretah minchah*. Why is the masculine form *huchrat* used? Because the verb applies to the general concept of the offering (*korban*), which is masculine: the sacrificial service of meal offerings and libations was cut off.
"The field is ruined, the ground mourns; for the grain is ruined, the new wine dries up (*hovish*), the oil fails (*umlal*)." The prophet vividly depicts the scope of the calamity: the earth stands desolate without produce. The term *hovish* carries two meanings: dried up (from *yovesh*) or put to shame (from *boshet*). Both are apt here. As the Radak explains, the wine dried up because the vines were devoured; alternatively, the vine's honor lies in yielding abundant fruit, and when barren, it is, as it were, ashamed that it has nothing to offer. The Malbim likewise adopts this sense of shame.
"The oil fails (*umlal yitzhar*)." What is *umlal*? It denotes being cut off or severed. A prominent example is in Hallel, where David HaMelech proclaims: "for in the name of the Lord I will cut them off (*amillam*)" (Tehillim 118:10), from the root of *milah* (cutting). Thus, *umlal yitzhar* means the olive crop was severed and destroyed. We find a similar concept in the name *nemalah* (ant), named because it severs (*malah*) the germ of the wheat grain before storing it underground so that it will not sprout. Hence, *umlal* conveys severing and cutting down.
The Malbim traces the parallel structure across these verses: corresponding to "the meal offering is cut off," the text explains: "for the field is ruined" - grain for meal offerings grew in the fields. Corresponding to "the drink offering is cut off," it states: "the ground mourns" - vines for libations were cultivated from the ground. Then it elaborates: "for the grain is ruined" corresponds to the ruined field, while "the new wine dries up, the oil fails" corresponds to the mourning ground. In the subsequent verse, corresponding to the ruined grain, it says: "Be ashamed, you farmers" - who work the grain fields. Corresponding to the dried wine, it says: "Wail, you vinedressers" - who tend the vineyards and olive groves. Corresponding to the farmers, it specifies: "over the wheat and over the barley, for the harvest of the field is perished." The Radak explains *hovishu* as an imperative: be ashamed, farmers, for your labor was entirely in vain; when intense exertion yields no results, it produces profound shame and despair.
"The vine is dried up, and the fig tree languishes; the pomegranate tree, the palm tree also, and the apple tree, all the trees of the field are withered; for joy is withered away from the sons of men." "The vine is dried up" (*hovishah*) can mean that it dried out, or that it was put to shame for bearing no fruit. "For joy is withered away from the sons of men" - the harvest is humanity's joy; when the crops fail, joy departs. Alternatively, joy itself is disgraced and driven away.
The Malbim observes that the verse lists the seven species with which the Land of Israel is blessed: wheat, barley, vine, fig, pomegranate, and date palm. The olive is omitted from this specific list because it was already included under the general term *kerem* (orchard). The apple tree (*tapuach*) is added because it was regarded as the most distinguished among other fruit trees. In rabbinic literature, *tapuach* often refers to the etrog, as Tosafot note, which aligns with the view that the Tree of Knowledge was an etrog. These noble fruit trees all suffered the same devastation.
The Malbim continues: "the harvest of the field is perished" encompasses all harvested field crops. It was customary to celebrate joyously during the harvest and vintage, dancing with the fruit of the land. The Torah similarly commanded us to rejoice on Sukkot with the Arba'ah Minim: "and you shall rejoice before the Lord your God" (Vayikra 23:40), marking the Festival of Ingathering. Now that all these crops have been destroyed, joy has withered away from mankind, leaving nothing over which to celebrate.
The Malbim notes a subtle distinction: regarding the vine, the text uses *hovishah* (dried up), whereas regarding the fig tree, it uses *umlalah* (cut off/languished). A vine that is cut back to its base can sprout again; vines take root easily and regenerate quickly. A fig tree, by contrast, does not easily recover once cut down. Therefore, the vine merely dried up (*hovishah*), while the fig tree was completely severed (*umlalah*), in keeping with the meaning of *umlal* as cutting off found in verse 10.