ד מצות עשה להחרים שבעה עממין, שנאמר "החרם תחרימם" (דברים כ,יז); וכל שבא לידו אחד מהן, ולא הרגו--הרי זה עובר בלא תעשה, שנאמר "לא תחייה, כל נשמה" (דברים כ,טז). וכבר אבדו, ואבד זכרם.
ה וכן מצות עשה לאבד זרע עמלק, שנאמר "תמחה את זכר עמלק" (דברים כה,יט); ומצות עשה לזכור תמיד מעשיו הרעים ואריבתו, כדי לעורר איבתו--שנאמר "זכור, את אשר עשה לך עמלק" (דברים כה,יז). מפי השמועה למדו, "זכור" בפה; "לא, תשכח" (דברים כה,יט) בלב, שאסור לשכוח איבתו ושנאתו.
The meforshim contrast the Rambam's formulation (Hil Melachim ch 5) of the mitzvah of fighting the seven nations of Canaan with the mitzvah of waging war against Amalek. In various Brisker-style seforim there are two diyukim that attract attention: 1) The Rambam writes that the seven nations of Canaan have vanished (based on Chazal's teaching that Sancherev mixed up the populations of all the nations so that their individual identity was lost); he omits this with respect to Amalek; 2) The Rambam writes that if you meet a member of the seven nations and fail to kill him you have violated a lav; he omits this detail in discussing Amalek.
The second point suggests that according to the Rambam, the mitzvah to wage war against Amalek is a chovas hatzibur, a communal mitzvah, while the mitzvah to kill the seven nations is a chovas hagavra on each individual (see this post at Havolim for more on this sugya). If you meet a member of Amalek there is nothing you as an individual need do, as the mitzvah to wage war can only be undertaken by the community as a whole.
The first point is addressed by the Rav in a footnote to his essay "Kol Dodi Dofek." He quotes his father as suggesting that Amalek is not a specific nation, but rather any nation which aims to destroy Klal Yisrael, any nation which adopts that ideology which we associate with Amalek, is to be treated as Amalek and destroyed. Amalek (unfortunately) continues to exist to the present day.
What confuses me is the rest of what the Rav says in that footnote (p 49-50 in Divrei Hagos v'Ha'aracha, if you want to look it up). He quotes his father as teaching that there are two dinim in the mitzvah of fighting Amalek: 1) A communal obligation to wage war, as discussed at the end of Parshas Beshalach; 2) An chiyuv on individuals to kill members of Amalek, as discussed at the end of Parshas Ki Teitzei. The chiddush that even a person who is an ideological-Amalekite even if not a genetic descendant of Amalek must be killed applies only to the first mitzvah, the communal chiyuv to wage war. However, the mitzvah of killing Amalek incumbent upon individuals applies only to true genetic Amalekites. "Milchama l'Hashem dor dor," the chiddush that war against Amalek is an eternal battle and hence applies to all who embrace the ideology of Amalek is a chiddush of Parshas Beshalach, the chovas hatzibur. It has no parallel in Parshas Ki Teitzei from where we learn the chiyuv incumbent upon individuals.
How does this approach square with the second diyuk we started with? Why does the Rambam not tell us (like he does with respect to the seven nations) that anyone who meets a member of Amalek and does not kill him has violated an issur, as there is a chovas hayachid to kill Amalek as well as a chovas hatzibur to wage war? Why would the Rambam in Sefer haMitzvos #248 categorize the destruction of Amalek as a chovas hatzibur when it also contains a chovas hayachid dimension as well? Why did Chazal choose the parsha that refers to the chiyuv of an individual to kill Amalek (Parshas Ki Teitzei) as the kri'ah for Parshas Zachor and not the parsha that refers to the communal chiyuv? (The Keren Orah at the beginning of Brachos writes that the reason why the d'oraysa chiyuv of reading parshas Amalek must be done b'tzibur is because the mitzvah of zecher is connected with the mitzvah of waging war which is a chovas hatzibur. Reading the parsha devoted to the chovas hayachid of killing Amalek undermines the point!) I'm sure I am missing something here...
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
gold on the inside
I read a Midrash in last week's parsha (33:8) as a response to my ranting in the previous post. The Midrash relates that when Hashem have Moshe the command to build a Mishkan, Moshe reacted with befuddlement. "Is it possible for Bnei Yisrael to build this thing called a Mishkan?" he asked G-d. Hashem responded that it was possible even for a single person to build it, as the pasuk says, "Mei'eis kol ish asher yadvenu libo," the money was collected from every man [singular] whose heart was filled with generosity.
Shem m'Shmuel asks: Why did Moshe doubt that Bnei Yisrael could build a Mishkan? The gemara tells us that each and every person became a millionaire collecting the jewels and treasure from the drowned Egyptian army at Yam Suf. Surely there was no lack of funds.
Secondly, what does Hashem's response mean? Ramban tells us that while some of the resources collected to build the Mishkan was readily available, some were rare. No one person had all the materials necessary in hand. It took the combined resources of the nation to assemble everything needed. How then could Hashem say that the Mishkan could be built even by one person?
The answer to the first question is easy. Moshe was not troubled by whether Bnei Yisrael had the funds to build a Mishkan -- he knew they did -- but rather he was troubled by whether Bnei Yisrael could really convert their material goods and monies into a "dirah batachtonim" for the Shechina. The Mishkan was not just another building, another possession (albeit a large, communally owned possession) decked out in glamorous fashion. The gold and riches of the Mishkan were just window dressing for the spiritual power that was inside. To build such a building required people who realized that gold and silver were just adornments for the deeper spiritual riches inside each person.
No one person had all the material resources needed to build the Mishkan at his disposal, but it was a shortage of spiritual riches more than a shortage of material goods which concerned Moshe. Hashem responded that Moshe need not worry, as the Mishkan could be built by the singular ish, just one upright person. All it takes is one person who exemplifies the ideal to inspire others, who in turn will spread the word. It's not the quantity of people which make the difference, but it's the quality of their belief which serves as the contagious spark that ignites others.
Even a miyuta she'bmiyuta, even a single ish, can make all the difference.
Shem m'Shmuel asks: Why did Moshe doubt that Bnei Yisrael could build a Mishkan? The gemara tells us that each and every person became a millionaire collecting the jewels and treasure from the drowned Egyptian army at Yam Suf. Surely there was no lack of funds.
Secondly, what does Hashem's response mean? Ramban tells us that while some of the resources collected to build the Mishkan was readily available, some were rare. No one person had all the materials necessary in hand. It took the combined resources of the nation to assemble everything needed. How then could Hashem say that the Mishkan could be built even by one person?
The answer to the first question is easy. Moshe was not troubled by whether Bnei Yisrael had the funds to build a Mishkan -- he knew they did -- but rather he was troubled by whether Bnei Yisrael could really convert their material goods and monies into a "dirah batachtonim" for the Shechina. The Mishkan was not just another building, another possession (albeit a large, communally owned possession) decked out in glamorous fashion. The gold and riches of the Mishkan were just window dressing for the spiritual power that was inside. To build such a building required people who realized that gold and silver were just adornments for the deeper spiritual riches inside each person.
No one person had all the material resources needed to build the Mishkan at his disposal, but it was a shortage of spiritual riches more than a shortage of material goods which concerned Moshe. Hashem responded that Moshe need not worry, as the Mishkan could be built by the singular ish, just one upright person. All it takes is one person who exemplifies the ideal to inspire others, who in turn will spread the word. It's not the quantity of people which make the difference, but it's the quality of their belief which serves as the contagious spark that ignites others.
Even a miyuta she'bmiyuta, even a single ish, can make all the difference.
can you drive a Lamborghini to olam ha'ba?
I posted this yesterday, but decided to try to tone it down a bit, though I don't know if I succeeded any better the second time around. While driving somewhere yesterday afternoon my wife and I noticed a flaming orange sportscar with a unusual shape ahead of us. It looked like this:
I am not a maven in these things, so when I caught up to it at the light I took at look at the wheels and saw the name of the manufacturer -- Lamborghini. And I also had a chance to notice the kid in the passenger seat was wearing a kipa, as was his dad, the driver. Imagine that -- a frum Yid driving a Lamborghini! A nice little "toy" car to have. Curious, when I got home later I took a look at what one of these things cost. Here's a link because I would not believe it if I didn't see the MSRP myself: $376,000.
I spent the rest of the day cynically wondering how a person wearing a kipa is mechanech his children in the mitzvah of kedoshim te'hiyu or the dinim of tzenius while driving down the street b'farhesya in a bright orange sportscar that costs way more than the price of my first home (and I'm not that old).
After some calmer (relatively speaking) reflection, I've realized that this gentleman has nothing to answer for. His behavior is symptomatic of what passes for normal -- he's in step with orthodox culture and I'm the sore thumb that sticks out. The luxurious Pesach vacations, the $3000 European human hair sheitels, the $8000+ summer camp for your kid, etc. have all become not excesses of the super rich, but the norm of what a "kosher" frum lifestyle is all about.
Your typical orthodox American family's shabbos dinner conversation:
"Iran is working on a nuclear bomb...."
"Gedolei yisrael are in the hospital suffering..."
"Can you please pass the brisket, and try to make the next slice a little thicker?"
Ho hum and lad dee da, as long as the roast beef is rare and the kugel is tasty and maybe there is some single malt scotch l'kavod shabbos for desert, what's there to worry about? Am I not a good Jew? I keep kosher, observe Shabbos (OK, so I sleep 14 of the 25 hours and slip into dockers and a polo shirt right after shul, but the shulchan aruch says you should enjoy shabbos, doesn't it?), and wrote a nice check at the last shul function. What more do you want from me? What does the Lamborghini have to do with religion?
I don't have in mind a gripe against anyone in particular when I write this (and I beg mechila of the Lamborghini driver who is probably a wonderful person, just his car caught my attention as a symbol) -- it's the whole culture of superficial adherence to ritual technicalities while missing the point of it all that turns me off. How can you feel in the mood to write posts about difficult Rambams or sugyos in the parsha when it just seems like fiddling as Rome burns around us?
Of course I know I should qualify what I am writing. There are wonderful people who use their money wisely for great things, who do chessed b'hatzneya leches and devote themselves to talmud torah. There are people who do "get it" and who are moseir nefesh for and who embody the best ideals. I just wish there were more people of this type who stood out at the forefront of defining orthodoxy instead of their being the miyut if not the miyuta sheb'miyuta. As I've said before, I don't read Jewish periodicals if I can avoid them -- I don't want to see ads for resorts, vacations, Pesach cruises or what-not, for glamorous summer programs, for sheitels that require a second mortgage, for restaurant after restaurant, etc. Yet, this is the face of orthodoxy today, in newspapers, magazines, radio ads, etc. I would rather keep my tunnel vision focused on the faces I see at night in the beis medrash.
This post is still pretty harsh even after repeated editing -- sorry, I just had to get it out of my system. It's not aimed at any target; I'm just venting my thoughts. Maybe I'll take it down later when my head clears.
I am not a maven in these things, so when I caught up to it at the light I took at look at the wheels and saw the name of the manufacturer -- Lamborghini. And I also had a chance to notice the kid in the passenger seat was wearing a kipa, as was his dad, the driver. Imagine that -- a frum Yid driving a Lamborghini! A nice little "toy" car to have. Curious, when I got home later I took a look at what one of these things cost. Here's a link because I would not believe it if I didn't see the MSRP myself: $376,000.
I spent the rest of the day cynically wondering how a person wearing a kipa is mechanech his children in the mitzvah of kedoshim te'hiyu or the dinim of tzenius while driving down the street b'farhesya in a bright orange sportscar that costs way more than the price of my first home (and I'm not that old).
After some calmer (relatively speaking) reflection, I've realized that this gentleman has nothing to answer for. His behavior is symptomatic of what passes for normal -- he's in step with orthodox culture and I'm the sore thumb that sticks out. The luxurious Pesach vacations, the $3000 European human hair sheitels, the $8000+ summer camp for your kid, etc. have all become not excesses of the super rich, but the norm of what a "kosher" frum lifestyle is all about.
Your typical orthodox American family's shabbos dinner conversation:
"Iran is working on a nuclear bomb...."
"Gedolei yisrael are in the hospital suffering..."
"Can you please pass the brisket, and try to make the next slice a little thicker?"
Ho hum and lad dee da, as long as the roast beef is rare and the kugel is tasty and maybe there is some single malt scotch l'kavod shabbos for desert, what's there to worry about? Am I not a good Jew? I keep kosher, observe Shabbos (OK, so I sleep 14 of the 25 hours and slip into dockers and a polo shirt right after shul, but the shulchan aruch says you should enjoy shabbos, doesn't it?), and wrote a nice check at the last shul function. What more do you want from me? What does the Lamborghini have to do with religion?
I don't have in mind a gripe against anyone in particular when I write this (and I beg mechila of the Lamborghini driver who is probably a wonderful person, just his car caught my attention as a symbol) -- it's the whole culture of superficial adherence to ritual technicalities while missing the point of it all that turns me off. How can you feel in the mood to write posts about difficult Rambams or sugyos in the parsha when it just seems like fiddling as Rome burns around us?
Of course I know I should qualify what I am writing. There are wonderful people who use their money wisely for great things, who do chessed b'hatzneya leches and devote themselves to talmud torah. There are people who do "get it" and who are moseir nefesh for and who embody the best ideals. I just wish there were more people of this type who stood out at the forefront of defining orthodoxy instead of their being the miyut if not the miyuta sheb'miyuta. As I've said before, I don't read Jewish periodicals if I can avoid them -- I don't want to see ads for resorts, vacations, Pesach cruises or what-not, for glamorous summer programs, for sheitels that require a second mortgage, for restaurant after restaurant, etc. Yet, this is the face of orthodoxy today, in newspapers, magazines, radio ads, etc. I would rather keep my tunnel vision focused on the faces I see at night in the beis medrash.
This post is still pretty harsh even after repeated editing -- sorry, I just had to get it out of my system. It's not aimed at any target; I'm just venting my thoughts. Maybe I'll take it down later when my head clears.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
an uncharitable hand out
Chazal tell us that for 26 generations, from creation until Bnei Yisrael accepted the Torah, Hashem sustained the world solely because of his chessed. Only after Bnei Yisrael accepted the Torah did and could Hashem sustain the world based on what was deserved, using a merit based system. Does this mean that mattan Torah diminished Hashem's midah of chessed -- there was less chessed in the world as a result of mattan Torah?
Rav Hutner explains that to accept chessed without any sense of having earned it carries with it the taint of 'nahama d'kisufa,' the embarassment of taking a hand-out. Giving the poor man a job so he can earn his wages with dignity is the highest form of charity . Torah and mitzvos enable us to feel that we are earning our keep, even though whatever we do pales in comparison to the enormous amount that we receive in return.
Rashi writes that Moshe Rabeinu thought he could get away with reviewing the mishpatim two or three times for Bnei Yisrael until they knew the halachos, but Hashem insisted that, "Eileh hamishpatim asher tasim lifneihem," that the mishpatim be laid out like a table, that they be presented with all of their reasoning and depth. Moshe Rabeinu surely did not want to shortchange us from learning Torah. It's precisely because Moshe wanted so badly for us to know the mishpatim that he figured he would give us a 'kitzur shulchan aruch' version of the halachos. (There are some people who probably regret he didn't do just that.) Why should you have to struggle through Birchas Shmuels when you can just get the din straight away? But that's not what Hashem wanted. Demanding mental effort in learning s a far greater chessed than providing an answer key because halacha is mastered only through ameilus. (See Sefas Emes)
Rav Hutner explains that to accept chessed without any sense of having earned it carries with it the taint of 'nahama d'kisufa,' the embarassment of taking a hand-out. Giving the poor man a job so he can earn his wages with dignity is the highest form of charity . Torah and mitzvos enable us to feel that we are earning our keep, even though whatever we do pales in comparison to the enormous amount that we receive in return.
Rashi writes that Moshe Rabeinu thought he could get away with reviewing the mishpatim two or three times for Bnei Yisrael until they knew the halachos, but Hashem insisted that, "Eileh hamishpatim asher tasim lifneihem," that the mishpatim be laid out like a table, that they be presented with all of their reasoning and depth. Moshe Rabeinu surely did not want to shortchange us from learning Torah. It's precisely because Moshe wanted so badly for us to know the mishpatim that he figured he would give us a 'kitzur shulchan aruch' version of the halachos. (There are some people who probably regret he didn't do just that.) Why should you have to struggle through Birchas Shmuels when you can just get the din straight away? But that's not what Hashem wanted. Demanding mental effort in learning s a far greater chessed than providing an answer key because halacha is mastered only through ameilus. (See Sefas Emes)
Thursday, February 16, 2012
mattan Torah and the seven mitzvos bnei Noach
Rashi comments on "Vayavo Moshe vayisaper la'am es kol divrei Hashem..." (24:3) that Moshe told Bnei Yisrael the seven mitzvos Bnei Noach and the mitzvos they had been given at Marah. Ramban disagrees, as the word "Va'yisaper" usually means relating new information. Bnei Yisrael already knew the seven mitzvos Bnei Noach -- why did Moshe need to teach it to them again?
R' Yosef Engel (Beis haOtzar, Avos, towards the end of part 6) raises the question of whether the chiyuv on Bnei Yisrael to observe the seven mitzvos Bnei Noach remained the same post-mattan Torah as pre-mattan Torah, i.e. mattan Torah simply added new mitzvos, or whether mattan Torah transformed everything, i.e. it was a package deal with a completely new set of chiyuvim.
The Rambam Hil. Melachim ch 9 writes that Adam haRishon was given the first six mitzvos, Noach was given a seventh, and then:
וכן היה הדבר בכל העולם, עד אברהם נצטווה יתר על אלו במילה, והוא התפלל שחרית. ויצחק הפריש מעשר, והוסיף תפילה אחרת לפנות היום. ויעקוב הוסיף גיד הנשה, והתפלל ערבית. ובמצריים נצטווה עמרם במצוות יתרות, עד שבא משה רבנו ונשלמה תורה על ידו.
The Rambam uses the historical precedent set by Adam, Noach, the Avos as the basis for the chiyuv to observe certain mitzvos, to which Moshe then added and completed the Torah. The Torah did not change chiyuvim that already existed, but simply added to them.
I would like to suggest that Rashi disagrees. The reason Moshe related to Bnei Yisrael the seven mitzvos and those commandments they had already been told at Marah is because these were not the same commandments. Mattan Torah fundamentally transformed thosee obligation which existed from simply being ben Noach laws to being a mitzvos -- a qualitatively different legal animal.
(It was noted that I should have mentioned the Rambam in Peirush haMishnayos in Chulin that says the chiyuv of gid hanasheh is because such a mitzvah was given at Sinai, not because such a a mitzvah was practiced by Ya'akov. You need to work out how to fit that in with the Rambam in Hil Melachim. I also want to mention that it's worth seeing a sicha of the L. Rebbe in Likutei Sichos vol. 33 p.26-32, esp. the last section where he explains that even if the Avos did not have a din ben Noach, full fledged geirus did not occur until mattan Torah because only post-Sinai was there this new qualitatively different level of chiyuv (and hence qualitatively different relationship with the RBS"O) created by mattan Torah. Maybe more on this after Shabbos.)
R' Yosef Engel (Beis haOtzar, Avos, towards the end of part 6) raises the question of whether the chiyuv on Bnei Yisrael to observe the seven mitzvos Bnei Noach remained the same post-mattan Torah as pre-mattan Torah, i.e. mattan Torah simply added new mitzvos, or whether mattan Torah transformed everything, i.e. it was a package deal with a completely new set of chiyuvim.
The Rambam Hil. Melachim ch 9 writes that Adam haRishon was given the first six mitzvos, Noach was given a seventh, and then:
וכן היה הדבר בכל העולם, עד אברהם נצטווה יתר על אלו במילה, והוא התפלל שחרית. ויצחק הפריש מעשר, והוסיף תפילה אחרת לפנות היום. ויעקוב הוסיף גיד הנשה, והתפלל ערבית. ובמצריים נצטווה עמרם במצוות יתרות, עד שבא משה רבנו ונשלמה תורה על ידו.
The Rambam uses the historical precedent set by Adam, Noach, the Avos as the basis for the chiyuv to observe certain mitzvos, to which Moshe then added and completed the Torah. The Torah did not change chiyuvim that already existed, but simply added to them.
I would like to suggest that Rashi disagrees. The reason Moshe related to Bnei Yisrael the seven mitzvos and those commandments they had already been told at Marah is because these were not the same commandments. Mattan Torah fundamentally transformed thosee obligation which existed from simply being ben Noach laws to being a mitzvos -- a qualitatively different legal animal.
(It was noted that I should have mentioned the Rambam in Peirush haMishnayos in Chulin that says the chiyuv of gid hanasheh is because such a mitzvah was given at Sinai, not because such a a mitzvah was practiced by Ya'akov. You need to work out how to fit that in with the Rambam in Hil Melachim. I also want to mention that it's worth seeing a sicha of the L. Rebbe in Likutei Sichos vol. 33 p.26-32, esp. the last section where he explains that even if the Avos did not have a din ben Noach, full fledged geirus did not occur until mattan Torah because only post-Sinai was there this new qualitatively different level of chiyuv (and hence qualitatively different relationship with the RBS"O) created by mattan Torah. Maybe more on this after Shabbos.)
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
VaYomer Yisro -- kesiva k'dibur
"Vayomer Yisro el Moshe, 'Ani chosencha Yisro ba eilech.'" (18:6) The Mechila quotes two views (echoed by Rashi/Ramban) as to how Yisro informed Moshe that he was on the way: According to R' Yehoshua, he sent a letter; according to R' Elazar haModai he sent a messenger. While it may seem trivial, the machlokes has an impact l'halacha.
Tosfos (Gitin 71a d"h v'ha) writes that submitting eidus via a letter (or other written communication) is OK (according to the gemara's hava amina) even though writing the parsha of chalitza cannot substitute for reading it. The difference is that with respect to eidus, the Torah uses the term "haggadah," while with respect to chalitzah, the Torah uses the term "amira." The term "haggadah" is inclusive of all types of communication; the term "amira" means specifically speaking.
Chasam Sofer in his teshuvos and his chiddusim challenges Tos. assertion based on our parsha. "Vayomer Yisro..." -- "amira" -- according to Ramban (and one view in the Mechilta) means that Yisro sent a letter, proving that "amira" can refer to written communication as well.
The focal point of the machlokes seems to be whether kesivah k'dibur or not -- when halacha refers to speaking or communicating, does writing count? According to Tos. and R' Elazar haModai, "amira" means specifically speaking; "VaYomer Yisro" means Yisro sent a messenger to speak. According to Ramban/R' Yehoshua, "amira" can be accomplished through writing as well.
R' Noson Gestetner in his L'Horos Noson has a clever explanation of the views in the Mechilta as being l'shitasam of another issue. He does this in three steps: 1) Logically, there is no reason that speaking should have more legal significance than writing. In fact, reason seems to dictate the reverse -- if you put something in writing, it carries more weight. 2) The gemara (Zevachim 116) quotes a machlokes between these same two Tanaim quoted in the Mechilta-- R' Yehoshua and R' Elazar haModai -- whether Yisro came before mattan Torah or afterwards. 3) The l'shitasam: Everyone agrees that halachic "amira" means speech and only speech. However, R' Yehoshua holds that Yisro came pre-mattan Torah, and therefore he is free to read "amira" according to its colloquial, non-halachic use which encompasses even written communication. R' Elazar haModai l'shitaso that Yisro came post-mattan Torah must read "amira" consistent with its technical halachic definition as referring to speech alone.
Tosfos (Gitin 71a d"h v'ha) writes that submitting eidus via a letter (or other written communication) is OK (according to the gemara's hava amina) even though writing the parsha of chalitza cannot substitute for reading it. The difference is that with respect to eidus, the Torah uses the term "haggadah," while with respect to chalitzah, the Torah uses the term "amira." The term "haggadah" is inclusive of all types of communication; the term "amira" means specifically speaking.
Chasam Sofer in his teshuvos and his chiddusim challenges Tos. assertion based on our parsha. "Vayomer Yisro..." -- "amira" -- according to Ramban (and one view in the Mechilta) means that Yisro sent a letter, proving that "amira" can refer to written communication as well.
The focal point of the machlokes seems to be whether kesivah k'dibur or not -- when halacha refers to speaking or communicating, does writing count? According to Tos. and R' Elazar haModai, "amira" means specifically speaking; "VaYomer Yisro" means Yisro sent a messenger to speak. According to Ramban/R' Yehoshua, "amira" can be accomplished through writing as well.
R' Noson Gestetner in his L'Horos Noson has a clever explanation of the views in the Mechilta as being l'shitasam of another issue. He does this in three steps: 1) Logically, there is no reason that speaking should have more legal significance than writing. In fact, reason seems to dictate the reverse -- if you put something in writing, it carries more weight. 2) The gemara (Zevachim 116) quotes a machlokes between these same two Tanaim quoted in the Mechilta-- R' Yehoshua and R' Elazar haModai -- whether Yisro came before mattan Torah or afterwards. 3) The l'shitasam: Everyone agrees that halachic "amira" means speech and only speech. However, R' Yehoshua holds that Yisro came pre-mattan Torah, and therefore he is free to read "amira" according to its colloquial, non-halachic use which encompasses even written communication. R' Elazar haModai l'shitaso that Yisro came post-mattan Torah must read "amira" consistent with its technical halachic definition as referring to speech alone.
(I'll save some of you the trouble of commenting that the narrative of "Vayomer Yisro.." is not a din and maybe shouldn't forced to fit into halachic boxes. Point granted -- but you can appreciate the cleverness of it anyway.)
Saturday, February 11, 2012
charamim to bedek habayis
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.
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.
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.
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