The Daf Yomi is currently holding in the sugya of whether stam charamim go to the kohanim or to bedek habayis. After discussing the practices of various Amoraim (Rav, Ula), the gemara (Archin 29) asks why these Amoraim needed to debate the issue -- there is a braysa that tells us that the whole parsha of charamim is applicable only when yovel is in force, which was not the case during the time of the Amoraim.
Rashi learns that the gemara's question was directed equally to those who hold stam charamim go to bedek habayis as well as those who hold it goes to the kohanim. The question of what to do with charamim is moot so long as there is no yovel and the laws of charamim are not in force. The Rambam, however, paskens that only charamim of kohanim are in limited to when yovel is in force, but charamim that go to bedek habayis apply at all times.
The Brisker Rav explains the debate with the following chakirah: Does the din of "stam charamim go to bedek habayis" just mean that bedek habayis instead of the kohein is the pocket into which this type of cheireim donation gets deposited, or does the din mean that these type of charamim are not really charamim at all, but are categorically a type of hekdesh? Does the din mean chermei bedek habayis share a quality of hekdesh l'bedek habayis, or these charamim are hekdesh to bedek habayis?
According to Rashi, charamim to bedek habayis are categorically still part of the world of charamim and therefore apply only when yovel is in force. According to the Rambam, charamim to bedek habayis are hekdesh, not governed by hilchos charamim, and therefore their halachos apply at all times.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Thursday, February 09, 2012
what made Yisro's "baruch Hashem" so special
"Vayichad Yisro al kol hatova" -- Rashi explains that Yisro got goosebumps because he felt the pain of the Egyptians who had been killed, or, according to another interpretation Rashi offers, he was filled with joy over the news of Klal Yisrael's deliverance. Yisro then exclaimed, "Baruch Hashem asher hitzil eschem!"
Chazal read this pasuk as an implicit criticism of Klal Yisrael because Yisro was the first to say "Baruch Hashem" and they were not (Sanhedrin 94). It's hard to understand what bothered Chazal. True, no one said from Klal Yisrael had said those exact words, "Baruch Hashem," but Klal Yisrael sang shirah -- isn't that enough thanks and enough praise? Is there something magic about Yisro's words that made them more significant than the entire shiras ha'yam?
Ksav Sofer offers two answers, each of which is a worthwhile limud in its own right:
1. Geirus does not psychologically divorce one from past life history -- according to the first view in Rashi, Yisro empathized with the Egyptians and felt pain over their death. Bnei Yisrael had no such qualms or regrets. Of course it is wonderful to be able to sing shirah to Hashem when you are elated, like Bnei Yisrael at Yam Suf. But its even more wonderful if you can sing shirah or say "Baruch Hashem" like Yisro, even when the good experienced produces mixed emotions or comes at a cost. Bnei Yisrael are criticized because although they sang shirah over their redemption, they should have also given thanks for the shibud itself, as tragic and painful as it may have seemed.
2. Yisro fled Egypt and never experienced avdus first hand. He did not need mon to eat, he did not need to do battle with Amalek. To sing shirah over the tremendous miracles one experiences in times of need is wonderful. To thank Hashem for the miracles done for other people -- to share in their joy and feel happiness for their success -- that's exceptional. Bnei Yisrael are criticized because each person sang shirah for his/her personal redemption, but did not think to sing shirah over the redemption of his fellow Jew as well.
I think the Brisker Rav was troubled by this same issue and wanted to make the same point (in a way that is rooted in halacha, k'darko) as this second answer as the Ksav Sofer.
The Brisker Rav explains that there is precise link between "Vayichad Yisro" and Yisro's "Baruch Hashem." The Shulchan Aruch (O.C. 219) paskens that Reuvain is allowed to say a birchas hagomel for his friend Shimon. It's not a bracha l'vatalah, explains the Rama, because a birchas hagomel is nothing more than a statement of thanks to Hashem for deliverance from danger. If Reuvain truly feels personal joy over Shimon's deliverance (see Taz, quoted in M.B.), e.g. Shimon is a close relative or friend, then Reuvain has ever right to say a bracha of shevach to celebrate. Since Yisro felt such overwhelming joy for the sake of Klal Yisrael, "Vayichad Yisro," therefore, says the Brisker Rav, he had a right to say a bracha, "Baruch Hashem..." over their salvation.
Rav Sorotzkin in his sefer Rinas Yitzchak is troubled by why the Brisker Rav needed to give us an explanation to justify Yisro saying a bracha when the gemara itself does so. The gemara (Brachos 54) explains that Yisro's "Baruch Hashem" is the source for the din that one is obligated to say a bracha when one sees a place that miracles occurred to Klal Yisrael. (Yisro saw the mon, etc.). Yisro's bracha was a birchas hanes, not a birchas hagomel.
I think perhaps the Brisker Rav's concern was not the halachic nature of the bracha per se, but rather what made the bracha so special. Birchas hagomel provides a halachic model for this type of personal joy that results from seeing the success or deliverance of others.
Chazal read this pasuk as an implicit criticism of Klal Yisrael because Yisro was the first to say "Baruch Hashem" and they were not (Sanhedrin 94). It's hard to understand what bothered Chazal. True, no one said from Klal Yisrael had said those exact words, "Baruch Hashem," but Klal Yisrael sang shirah -- isn't that enough thanks and enough praise? Is there something magic about Yisro's words that made them more significant than the entire shiras ha'yam?
Ksav Sofer offers two answers, each of which is a worthwhile limud in its own right:
1. Geirus does not psychologically divorce one from past life history -- according to the first view in Rashi, Yisro empathized with the Egyptians and felt pain over their death. Bnei Yisrael had no such qualms or regrets. Of course it is wonderful to be able to sing shirah to Hashem when you are elated, like Bnei Yisrael at Yam Suf. But its even more wonderful if you can sing shirah or say "Baruch Hashem" like Yisro, even when the good experienced produces mixed emotions or comes at a cost. Bnei Yisrael are criticized because although they sang shirah over their redemption, they should have also given thanks for the shibud itself, as tragic and painful as it may have seemed.
2. Yisro fled Egypt and never experienced avdus first hand. He did not need mon to eat, he did not need to do battle with Amalek. To sing shirah over the tremendous miracles one experiences in times of need is wonderful. To thank Hashem for the miracles done for other people -- to share in their joy and feel happiness for their success -- that's exceptional. Bnei Yisrael are criticized because each person sang shirah for his/her personal redemption, but did not think to sing shirah over the redemption of his fellow Jew as well.
I think the Brisker Rav was troubled by this same issue and wanted to make the same point (in a way that is rooted in halacha, k'darko) as this second answer as the Ksav Sofer.
The Brisker Rav explains that there is precise link between "Vayichad Yisro" and Yisro's "Baruch Hashem." The Shulchan Aruch (O.C. 219) paskens that Reuvain is allowed to say a birchas hagomel for his friend Shimon. It's not a bracha l'vatalah, explains the Rama, because a birchas hagomel is nothing more than a statement of thanks to Hashem for deliverance from danger. If Reuvain truly feels personal joy over Shimon's deliverance (see Taz, quoted in M.B.), e.g. Shimon is a close relative or friend, then Reuvain has ever right to say a bracha of shevach to celebrate. Since Yisro felt such overwhelming joy for the sake of Klal Yisrael, "Vayichad Yisro," therefore, says the Brisker Rav, he had a right to say a bracha, "Baruch Hashem..." over their salvation.
Rav Sorotzkin in his sefer Rinas Yitzchak is troubled by why the Brisker Rav needed to give us an explanation to justify Yisro saying a bracha when the gemara itself does so. The gemara (Brachos 54) explains that Yisro's "Baruch Hashem" is the source for the din that one is obligated to say a bracha when one sees a place that miracles occurred to Klal Yisrael. (Yisro saw the mon, etc.). Yisro's bracha was a birchas hanes, not a birchas hagomel.
I think perhaps the Brisker Rav's concern was not the halachic nature of the bracha per se, but rather what made the bracha so special. Birchas hagomel provides a halachic model for this type of personal joy that results from seeing the success or deliverance of others.
Wednesday, February 08, 2012
zachor es yom hashabbos: is thinking about it enough?
There is so much more to say on Beshalach, but another week has gone by and been swallowed up by other business, so on to Yisro.
The Rambam describes the mitzvah of kiddush in Sefer haMitzvos 155:
הציווי שנצטווינו לומר דברים ביום השבת בכניסתו וביציאתו
He echoes the same in Mishne Torah (Shabbos 29:1):
מצות עשה מן התורה לקדש יום השבת בדברים
From the Rambam's language it's pretty clear that the mitzvah of kiddush requires "devarim," the recitation of words. It must be done verbally.
Question: The gemara (Meg. 18) tells us that if not for the fact that the Torah uses the double-expression of "zachor" and "lo tishkach" we would assume that the mitzvah of zechiras Amalek could be fulfilled b'lev, mentally, buy just thinking about Amalek. Since no such double-expression is used in connection with the mitzvah of kiddush, it stands to reason that one can fulfill "zachor" of kiddush by thinking alone, through hirhur.
Why does the Rambam say otherwise?
The Rambam describes the mitzvah of kiddush in Sefer haMitzvos 155:
הציווי שנצטווינו לומר דברים ביום השבת בכניסתו וביציאתו
He echoes the same in Mishne Torah (Shabbos 29:1):
מצות עשה מן התורה לקדש יום השבת בדברים
From the Rambam's language it's pretty clear that the mitzvah of kiddush requires "devarim," the recitation of words. It must be done verbally.
Question: The gemara (Meg. 18) tells us that if not for the fact that the Torah uses the double-expression of "zachor" and "lo tishkach" we would assume that the mitzvah of zechiras Amalek could be fulfilled b'lev, mentally, buy just thinking about Amalek. Since no such double-expression is used in connection with the mitzvah of kiddush, it stands to reason that one can fulfill "zachor" of kiddush by thinking alone, through hirhur.
Why does the Rambam say otherwise?
Monday, February 06, 2012
the shabbos that did not count
Rashi writes in P' Beshalach that there were three mitzvos given at Marah, the first camp reached after crossing Yam Suf: the mitzvos of Shabbos, parah adumah, and dinim (establishing a justice system). There are a number of difficulties with this Rashi. While it is true that there were mitzvos given at Marah, there are different views in Tanaim as to what they were -- Rashi's list of three does not match any of those views. Furthermore, Rashi himself comments in Parshas VaEschanan that the words "ka'aseh tzivcha" in the mitzvah of kibud av v'eim alludes to the fact that this mitzvah was given at Marah, yet kibid av is not mentioned in Rashi's list here. I want to focus on a third difficulty, which is not necessarily a problem with Rashi, but rather is a problem with the chronology of the Midrash. Chazal tell us (Shabbos 118) that if only Klal Yisrael had observed one Shabbos in the midbar they would have achieved complete geulah; however, that very first Shabbos was desecrated by the people who went out to collect mon. Tosfos (Shabbos 87b) already points out that if the laws of Shabbos were already given at Marah, then the very first Shabbos in the midbar was not desecrated. The very first Shabbos occurred immediately after Marah, which was before the mon started to fall. Why don't Chazal count this first Shabbos?
Tosfos doesn't really resolve the issue, but the Maharal in Gur Arye does. He suggests that the laws of Shabbos given in Marah consisted only of the mitzvos aseh of Shabbos, but no prohibitions. It was only once the "shall nots" of Shabbos were introduced, e.g. not collecting the mon on Shabbos, that Shabbos really counted as observed.
What does the Maharal mean? (And I'm sorry to say that even if you look at R' Hartman's beautiful notes, they won't help you here.) Why should shmiras Shabbos not count just because there were not yet any prohibitions attached to it?
I would like to suggest that this fits perfectly with a chiddush we discussed two weeks ago (here). The gemara (Shabbos 69) discusses a case of someone who violates all 39 melachos but still has some sense that it is Shabbos. Asks the gemara, if the person does every melacha in the book, what does he/she know about Shabbos? Answers the gemara, he/she knows there is an issur of techumin. Why, asks Tosfos, did the gemara not answer that the person knows there are mitzvos aseh associated with Shabbos? Why make the assumption that techumin is an issur d'oraysa (a major debate starting with the Tanaim) when the gemara could play it safe and say the person was aware of the mitzva aseh of kiddush on Shabbos?
Rav Hershel Shachter answers that the concept of kedusha by definition entails issurim, prohibitions. A kohen has a certain level of kedusha because he cannot marry certain women. Eretz Yisrael has kedusah because there is an issur of tevel associated with produce grown there. An awareness of "Shabbos kodesh" means specifically a sense that there are things that cannot be done on Shabbos.
Since there were no prohibitions associated with the mitzvah of Shabbos given at Marah, that first Shabbos was lacking a full kedushas Shabbos and therefore did not count. It was only once the issur of collecting mon was introduced that a full kedushas Shabbos truly existed.
Tosfos doesn't really resolve the issue, but the Maharal in Gur Arye does. He suggests that the laws of Shabbos given in Marah consisted only of the mitzvos aseh of Shabbos, but no prohibitions. It was only once the "shall nots" of Shabbos were introduced, e.g. not collecting the mon on Shabbos, that Shabbos really counted as observed.
What does the Maharal mean? (And I'm sorry to say that even if you look at R' Hartman's beautiful notes, they won't help you here.) Why should shmiras Shabbos not count just because there were not yet any prohibitions attached to it?
I would like to suggest that this fits perfectly with a chiddush we discussed two weeks ago (here). The gemara (Shabbos 69) discusses a case of someone who violates all 39 melachos but still has some sense that it is Shabbos. Asks the gemara, if the person does every melacha in the book, what does he/she know about Shabbos? Answers the gemara, he/she knows there is an issur of techumin. Why, asks Tosfos, did the gemara not answer that the person knows there are mitzvos aseh associated with Shabbos? Why make the assumption that techumin is an issur d'oraysa (a major debate starting with the Tanaim) when the gemara could play it safe and say the person was aware of the mitzva aseh of kiddush on Shabbos?
Rav Hershel Shachter answers that the concept of kedusha by definition entails issurim, prohibitions. A kohen has a certain level of kedusha because he cannot marry certain women. Eretz Yisrael has kedusah because there is an issur of tevel associated with produce grown there. An awareness of "Shabbos kodesh" means specifically a sense that there are things that cannot be done on Shabbos.
Since there were no prohibitions associated with the mitzvah of Shabbos given at Marah, that first Shabbos was lacking a full kedushas Shabbos and therefore did not count. It was only once the issur of collecting mon was introduced that a full kedushas Shabbos truly existed.
Sunday, February 05, 2012
tefilah -- more on the cart vs. the horse
Last post I suggested that according to the Mechilta, it was not the circumstance of being in the midbar that caused the mon to fall; it was not the circumstance of being pursued by the Egyptians that caused Hashem to split the Yam. Aderaba -- it was because Hashem wanted Bnei Yisrael to experience the mon that he brought them to the midbar; it was because Hashem wanted them to experience the miracle of splitting Yam Suf that he caused the Egyptians to pursue them.
We find this idea elsewhere in the parsha as well, in a very deep idea Rav Hutner found in Maharal. The Egyptians were in hot pursuit, Bnei Yisrael had their back against the wall (or sea) with no way out. What do you do when you are out of ideas and have no place to turn? You daven! Moshe turned to Hashem in tefilah. Yet, and this may be the only place something like this happened, Hashem responded by telling Moshe to stop davening and tell Bnei Yisrael to step into the sea. Meforshim struggle to understand Hashem's response of, "Mah titzak elilei," asking Moshe why he was davening. What else was Moshe supposed to do? Why was davening an inappropriate reaction?
The Maharal in Gur Aryeh (based on the Rashi) explains (unlike many of the other meforshim) that it was not that tefilah per se was inappropriate. Hashem wanted Moshe's tefilos more than anything in the world. Yet, precisely because Hashem wanted those tefilos so much that they posed a danger -- Why would Hashem save Bnei Yisrael when doing so would mean cutting short Moshe's davening? Imagine someone pouring out his soul, reciting Tehillim with great hislahavus and kavanah because of some impending tragedy -- it's almost a shame to remove the threat of tragedy and lose those Tehillim! So Hashem asked Moshe to please stop. Close the Tehillim so I can save Bnei Yisrael.
Rav Hartman in his footnotes to this Maharal quotes from Rav Hutner that this idea does not apply to every situation. No one should think that by saying Tehillim he/she will cause a choleh to remain sick or some tragedy to not be averted. In most cases, Hashem wants (for whatever reason) to put a person in a certain circumstance or situation. It's because the person is uncomfortable with the situation that Hashem wanted that he/she davens to try to change the gezeirah. By Yam Suf it was different. Hashem did not want the circumstance or situation; Hashem wanted the tefilah. The whole situation developed precisely in such a way to ellicit those prayers of Moshe Rabeinu. So long as the end goal was met, i.e. Moshe was davening, there was no need to make any change in the situation -- exactly what was supposed to be happening was happening. It was only once Moshe ceased tefilah that Hashem would turn his attention kavyachol to splitting the Sea.
Rav Hartman sees a hint to this type of tefilah in the pasuk in Yehayahu, "Terem nikra'u v'ani e'eneh, od hein medabrim v'ani eshma." Sometimes we call out in tefilah and before we are even done Hashem answers. But sometimes, like at Yam Suf, "od heim medabrim," so long as the tefilah continues, "ani eshma," Hashem says that He just listens. Why interfere with a situation when the most beautiful thing in the world is taking place as a result?
A simplistic reading of the parsha might lead a person to think that tefilah is sometimes not as valuable or important as it otherwise might seem. Based on the Maharal, the lesson is exactly the opposite -- we see from our parsha the greatness of tefilah, so much so that Hashem would delay the salvation of Klal Yisrael just to continue to listen to Moshe's words.
We find this idea elsewhere in the parsha as well, in a very deep idea Rav Hutner found in Maharal. The Egyptians were in hot pursuit, Bnei Yisrael had their back against the wall (or sea) with no way out. What do you do when you are out of ideas and have no place to turn? You daven! Moshe turned to Hashem in tefilah. Yet, and this may be the only place something like this happened, Hashem responded by telling Moshe to stop davening and tell Bnei Yisrael to step into the sea. Meforshim struggle to understand Hashem's response of, "Mah titzak elilei," asking Moshe why he was davening. What else was Moshe supposed to do? Why was davening an inappropriate reaction?
The Maharal in Gur Aryeh (based on the Rashi) explains (unlike many of the other meforshim) that it was not that tefilah per se was inappropriate. Hashem wanted Moshe's tefilos more than anything in the world. Yet, precisely because Hashem wanted those tefilos so much that they posed a danger -- Why would Hashem save Bnei Yisrael when doing so would mean cutting short Moshe's davening? Imagine someone pouring out his soul, reciting Tehillim with great hislahavus and kavanah because of some impending tragedy -- it's almost a shame to remove the threat of tragedy and lose those Tehillim! So Hashem asked Moshe to please stop. Close the Tehillim so I can save Bnei Yisrael.
Rav Hartman in his footnotes to this Maharal quotes from Rav Hutner that this idea does not apply to every situation. No one should think that by saying Tehillim he/she will cause a choleh to remain sick or some tragedy to not be averted. In most cases, Hashem wants (for whatever reason) to put a person in a certain circumstance or situation. It's because the person is uncomfortable with the situation that Hashem wanted that he/she davens to try to change the gezeirah. By Yam Suf it was different. Hashem did not want the circumstance or situation; Hashem wanted the tefilah. The whole situation developed precisely in such a way to ellicit those prayers of Moshe Rabeinu. So long as the end goal was met, i.e. Moshe was davening, there was no need to make any change in the situation -- exactly what was supposed to be happening was happening. It was only once Moshe ceased tefilah that Hashem would turn his attention kavyachol to splitting the Sea.
Rav Hartman sees a hint to this type of tefilah in the pasuk in Yehayahu, "Terem nikra'u v'ani e'eneh, od hein medabrim v'ani eshma." Sometimes we call out in tefilah and before we are even done Hashem answers. But sometimes, like at Yam Suf, "od heim medabrim," so long as the tefilah continues, "ani eshma," Hashem says that He just listens. Why interfere with a situation when the most beautiful thing in the world is taking place as a result?
A simplistic reading of the parsha might lead a person to think that tefilah is sometimes not as valuable or important as it otherwise might seem. Based on the Maharal, the lesson is exactly the opposite -- we see from our parsha the greatness of tefilah, so much so that Hashem would delay the salvation of Klal Yisrael just to continue to listen to Moshe's words.
Thursday, February 02, 2012
"lachem" for seudas Shabbos
I feel bad for making some of you suffer through reading a defense of segulos only to be followed by a post quoting the Noam Elimelech, so this one's for you guys : )
Two interesting mareh mekomos I saw on the parsha:
1. "...Eis asher tofo eifo v'eis asher tivashlu basheilu v'eis kol haodef hanichu lachem l'mishmeres ad boker." (16:23) Eating the mon was a kiyum mitzvah of seudas Shabbos (see R' Chaim Kanievsky's Ta'ama D'Kra who discusses whether mon had the property of being bread-like only if one imagined it to be bread or under any circumstance. The mon being like bread was not just a psychological illusion, but was an actual transformation of its essence; this is why one could say birchas ha'mazon over it.) The Rogatchover in his commentary on chumash (please look it up, as it's hard to be sure I am getting this right since it is written so tersely) derives from this pasuk that there is a din of "lachem" by seudas Shabbos (like by lulav). You need to make a kinyan in your seudah! Never saw this idea before.
2. Moshe was told to put away some mon "V'hanach oso lifnei Hashem l'mishmeres l'doroseichem." (16:33) The Brisker Rav (Kerisus 5b) quotes the following question from R' Chaim: Why is it that the Rambam counts the shemen hamishcha, "Shemes mishchas kodesh yhiyeh zeh li l'doroseichem," (30:31) as a mitzvas aseh, but does not count having this portion of mon as a mitzvah?
R' Chaim answers that the mitzvah of mon consisted of the action of setting aside a portion. That portion might serve as an example for eternity, l'doroseichem, but the act of setting it aside was a one time deal, a mitzvah l'sha'ah.
The mitzvah of shemen hamishcha is a din in the cheftza of shemen, not the production of the oil. It is the existence of the object, the "yhiyeh," which is eternal, and therefore it is a mitzvah l'doros.
which is the cart, which is the horse?
According to one view quoted in the Mechilta on the opening of our parsha, "derech hamidbar Yam Suf" is not just a description of the direction Bnei Yisrael were travelling (as that could have been stated much more succinctly), but is an agenda statement of what needed to be accomplished. Based on various derashos, the Mechilta explains "derech," as a hint to kabbalas haTorah, "midbar" as a hint to the mon eaten during the desert travels, and "Yam Suf" as a hint to splitting of the sea. We see that from the first moments of their journey Bnei Yisrael were guided with a purpose and mission beyond just getting anywhere-but-Egypt.
What amazes me about this Mechilta is the assertion that the mon and kriyas Yam Suf were built into the plan. Had you asked me, I would have said that the mon came about only because Bnei Yisrael had no other food in the midbar; kiryas Yam Suf came about only because the Egyptians foolishly pursued Bnei Yisrael after letting them go. Had dire circumstances not dictated the necessity of Divine intervention, these miracles could have and would have been avoided. Not so says the Mechilta! Bnei Yisrael had to experience mon, so they were led into a midbar where Hashem would provide it. Bnei Yisrael had to experience a kriyas Yam Suf, so Hashem brought them to the banks of Yam Suf with the Egyptian army in hot pursuit. The circumstances did not create the need for the miracles; the need for the miracles to be experienced led to Bnei Yisrael being put in circumstances that would warrant them. (A similar idea that comes to mind is the idea of the Imahos being akaros in order to elicit their tefilos.)
"Vayasev Elokim es ha'am derech hamidbar Yam Suf" -- Noam Elimelech reads "vayasev" as related to the word "sibah", reason. "Vayasaiv Elokim" means Hashem created the reason, the circumstance that caused Bnei Yisrael to enter the midbar, which he takes as representitive of hisbodedus, and Yam Suf, which he takes as representative of the yam of learning.
It's funny when people relate stories of hashgacha pratis -- Hashem saved Ploni from a fire; Hashem saved Plonis from being hit by a runaway train, etc. -- they always seize on the miraculous escape as evidence of Divine intervention, as if the world was running on its merry course until the point the skies opened and Hashem decided to seize the reins. But of course that's not how it works. Hashem creates the circumstances too -- he put the person in the path of the runaway train and did nothing to stop the fire from starting. We often don't understand why those circumstances were created; they may be there just to elicit the tefilah that brings about the ultimate salvation.
If I can take a little poetic license, maybe "vayasev" is related to sovev, to go around. The midbar, the barren-consciousness alluded to by the desert (to come back to the Noam Elimelech) stands in perfect contrast to the Yam, the quenching waters of Torah. Life takes us as a people and as individuals in circles. The route out of Egypt, whatever we are slaves to, is not linear -- we go ups and downs, steps forward and steps back. So long as we are headed in the right direction, that's how it should be.
What amazes me about this Mechilta is the assertion that the mon and kriyas Yam Suf were built into the plan. Had you asked me, I would have said that the mon came about only because Bnei Yisrael had no other food in the midbar; kiryas Yam Suf came about only because the Egyptians foolishly pursued Bnei Yisrael after letting them go. Had dire circumstances not dictated the necessity of Divine intervention, these miracles could have and would have been avoided. Not so says the Mechilta! Bnei Yisrael had to experience mon, so they were led into a midbar where Hashem would provide it. Bnei Yisrael had to experience a kriyas Yam Suf, so Hashem brought them to the banks of Yam Suf with the Egyptian army in hot pursuit. The circumstances did not create the need for the miracles; the need for the miracles to be experienced led to Bnei Yisrael being put in circumstances that would warrant them. (A similar idea that comes to mind is the idea of the Imahos being akaros in order to elicit their tefilos.)
"Vayasev Elokim es ha'am derech hamidbar Yam Suf" -- Noam Elimelech reads "vayasev" as related to the word "sibah", reason. "Vayasaiv Elokim" means Hashem created the reason, the circumstance that caused Bnei Yisrael to enter the midbar, which he takes as representitive of hisbodedus, and Yam Suf, which he takes as representative of the yam of learning.
It's funny when people relate stories of hashgacha pratis -- Hashem saved Ploni from a fire; Hashem saved Plonis from being hit by a runaway train, etc. -- they always seize on the miraculous escape as evidence of Divine intervention, as if the world was running on its merry course until the point the skies opened and Hashem decided to seize the reins. But of course that's not how it works. Hashem creates the circumstances too -- he put the person in the path of the runaway train and did nothing to stop the fire from starting. We often don't understand why those circumstances were created; they may be there just to elicit the tefilah that brings about the ultimate salvation.
If I can take a little poetic license, maybe "vayasev" is related to sovev, to go around. The midbar, the barren-consciousness alluded to by the desert (to come back to the Noam Elimelech) stands in perfect contrast to the Yam, the quenching waters of Torah. Life takes us as a people and as individuals in circles. The route out of Egypt, whatever we are slaves to, is not linear -- we go ups and downs, steps forward and steps back. So long as we are headed in the right direction, that's how it should be.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
parshas hamon and segulah scrooges
Lots of frum websites and blogs have publicized R' Mendele m'Riminov teaching that reading the parshas hamon shenayim mikra v'echad targum today is a segulah for parnasa. A few thoughts:
1. Trying to offer some rationalization of how the segulah works seems to me to be a waste of time. A segulah by definition is something whose workings cannot be explained. After all is said and done about the parsha of mon focusing our bitachon, or whatever other explanation is offered, it's still a mystery as to why this particular parsha on this particular day should have an effect.
2. Parnasa does not mean wealth. If anything, the parsha of mon teaches us to be satisfied with what we have. To borrow my wife's words on the topic (link):
Now that I provided a great line for the segulah opponents to take out of context, a little clarification. Of course I don't mean that the opinions of a chassidishe Rebbe living not to long ago carry the same weight as statements of Abayei and Rava. To put what I mean in another context, I stand as much chance of jumping to the moon as jumping to Jupiter. Of course I know there is a difference between the moon and Jupiter, but from my perspective of jumping up and down, even with Air Jordans on my feet, they are equally unreachable. R' Mendele m'Riminov may be the moon, not Jupiter or Alpha Centauri, but it doesn't change the fact that practically speaking, no matter how high I jump, the world he lived in and the Torah he understood may be beyond me. A segulah is from toras hanistar; it's not like pshat in a Rambam where you can argue as to what makes better or worse sense. It would be the height of chutzpah to think I can decide whether there is anything to this segulah or not, much less to throw around terms like "darkei emori" to describe it. If I don't understand, it means my understanding falls short of the mark -- not the other way around.
1. Trying to offer some rationalization of how the segulah works seems to me to be a waste of time. A segulah by definition is something whose workings cannot be explained. After all is said and done about the parsha of mon focusing our bitachon, or whatever other explanation is offered, it's still a mystery as to why this particular parsha on this particular day should have an effect.
2. Parnasa does not mean wealth. If anything, the parsha of mon teaches us to be satisfied with what we have. To borrow my wife's words on the topic (link):
Beyond that, though, the mon came down each day with just enough for that day except on erev Shabbos when the double portion came for the next day). That meant that the Jews in the midbar never had the feeling of security that comes from pas besalo [bread in the basket, on hand for later]. Each day was another challenge in bitachon that Hashem will provide what you need.
The way the term parnassah tends to be used today is not that you live day-to-day with bitachon that Hashem will provide but that you are comfortable -- secure in the knowledge that you have a number of baskets filled with bread and whatever else you want on hand. I get the sense that people consider the segulahs for parnassah to be guarantees of a certain standard of living that is quite different from the experience of eating mon.3. The popularization of segulos always brings out the segulah scrooges who think everything of this sort is illegitimate and feel it is their duty to convince the rest of Klal Yisrael of their point and make fun of the cretin neanderthals among us who would believe in this superstitious magic. I once gave a shiur and noticed that one of the participants reacted to every other line in the gemara with either a nod of approval or a question on the logic employed. My 2 cents is that when you sit in judgment of a sevara of Chazal, you sit in judgment of yourself. If you think Abaye or Rava's logic is faulty, it means your logic is faulty. If you think Abayei or Rava got it wrong, it means you got it wrong. Hillel and R' Akiva, Abeyei and Rava, Rashi and the Rambam's words define what the standard of Torah is -- there is no other external source of any sort against which they can be measured and judged. Everyone who is a frum Jew understands this. What some people seem to miss I guess is that R' Mendele m'Riminov is also a standard, a ruler against which other things are measured.
Now that I provided a great line for the segulah opponents to take out of context, a little clarification. Of course I don't mean that the opinions of a chassidishe Rebbe living not to long ago carry the same weight as statements of Abayei and Rava. To put what I mean in another context, I stand as much chance of jumping to the moon as jumping to Jupiter. Of course I know there is a difference between the moon and Jupiter, but from my perspective of jumping up and down, even with Air Jordans on my feet, they are equally unreachable. R' Mendele m'Riminov may be the moon, not Jupiter or Alpha Centauri, but it doesn't change the fact that practically speaking, no matter how high I jump, the world he lived in and the Torah he understood may be beyond me. A segulah is from toras hanistar; it's not like pshat in a Rambam where you can argue as to what makes better or worse sense. It would be the height of chutzpah to think I can decide whether there is anything to this segulah or not, much less to throw around terms like "darkei emori" to describe it. If I don't understand, it means my understanding falls short of the mark -- not the other way around.
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