krias hatorah - chovas hayachid or chovas hatzibur

Achronim discuss whether krias haTorah is a chovas hayachid which can only be fulfilled in the presence of a tzibur or whether the chiyuv is on the tzibur as a whole. The nafka minah would be whether an individual has to make an effort to find a tzibur to listening to layning. If the chiyuv to listen to kriah applies to the yachid, the answer would be yes, but if the chiyuv is only on the tzibur as a whole, a yachid who does not find himself in a tzibur for krias hatorah has no obligation to do anything. Those who have gone to YU know that when the Rav used to commute from Boston to NY he would sometimes miss krias hatorah and gather a minyan in yeshiva to fulfill the mitzvah.

The first Mishna in Megillah tells us that villagers may read the megillah early on the 11th, 12th, or 13th of Adar which fall on Monday or Thurs., the days when the villagers traditionally gathered together in the cities. What were these villagers gathering for? Rashi writes that Monday and Thursday were the days when court was in session; the villagers came to the city to do their legal business. The Ran, however, writes that the villagers gathered in the city on those days because those are the days in which krias haTorah is done. Apparently the villagers did not have a minyan (or perhaps did not have a sefer Torah) where they lived and needed to travel to a central meeting point to fulfill the mitzvah of kriah. R’ Shternbruch in a number of his seforim points out that perhaps the point of disagreement between Rashi and the Ran (whose explanation is echoed by most Rishonim) revolves around how to understand the takanah of kriah. If kriah is a chiyuv on the tzibur as a whole, then where no tzibur exists, such as a village, there is no chiyuv. But if there is a chiyuv on the individual to hear kriah, then we understand why villagers which otherwise did not have a tzibur would nonetheless gather to create one to fulfill their chiyuv.

I should point out that the Ramban in Milchamos (first perek of Megillah) seems to indicate that krias hatorah is a chovas hatzibur; read more about it on Chaim Markowitz’s blog here.

And while on the topic, just to mention it again (previous post here), if krias hatorah is a chovas hatzibur, then it is hard to understand how a second leining of parshas zachor can be done just for women. Women cannot form a tzibur, so how can the chiyuv of kriah be fulfilled for them in the absence of a minyan of men?

na'aseh v'nishma and the construction of the Mishkan

We once discussed (link) the machlokes between Rashi and others as to whether building the Mishkan preceded the cheit ha’eigel or was a response to the cheit ha’eigel. The obvious difficulty with reading the Mishkan as a response to the cheit is that the discussion of the Mishkan in Parshas Terumah appears before the Torah tells us anything about the eigel. I want like to add one point to the discussion.

The gemara (cited by Rashi) tells us that Moshe first gave Bnei Yisrael the instructions of how to make the kelim for the Mishkan, but Betzalel figured out that this order cannot be correct – what good are kelim with no place to put them? First the building itself must be constructed, and afterwards the kelim that belong inside made and put in their proper place. Moshe responded that Betzalel had it right, and he must have been hiding in the shadows when Hashem gave the command (a play on the name Betzlalel, tzeil=shadow).

Why did Moshe himself did not give the command in the right order, first to build the building and then the kelim? Chasam Sofer explains that this was a test of Bnei Yisrael. Would they contribute for an aron which seems to have no place to be put? Would they contribute to make a menorah without knowing more about what it would be used for or where it would be placed? This was a test of “na’aseh v’nishma.”

The words “na’aseh v’nishma” don’t appear in the Torah before the aseres hadobros in Parshas Yisro; they appear at the very end of Parshas Mishpatim – right before Parshas Terumah. Might the command to build a Mishkan, the test of "na'aseh v'nishma," be deliberately placed here to juxtopose it to these words? I wouldn’t say that this alone justifies the order of the parshiyos according to Rashi, but it's something to think about.

On a different note, the issue of what comes first -- kelim or building -- I think speaks to a question of chinuch priorities. The sum total of what a ben Torah is more than the individual parts of learning, avodah, mussar, derech eretz. There is a "building" which contains all of those elements and gives them their proper place and balance. The catch-22 is that building has significance only because of the elements it contains. Without the persona of a ben Torah, learning is merely an intellectual exercise; yet without learning, how does one develop such a persona?

torah lishma

The Midrash at the opening of Parshas Terumah contrasts our receiving of the Torah with an ordinary sale. In a normal sales transaction, the seller gives his property to the buyer and departs. Hashem, the "seller" of Torah, kavyachol was included in the deal and came along with the Torah to us. The same idea is captured in the Zohar's statement that "Oraysa v'Kudsha Brich Hu chad hu" -- the Torah and Hashem are one.

Basing himself on this Midrash, R' Chaim Volozhiner (Nefesh haChaim 4:10) explains that it makes no sense to speak of dveykus as a goal of the process of Torah learning or an ingredient necessary for its fulfullment. Dveykus is inherent in learning. Since G-d is one with the Torah, one cannot learn a page of gemara or a Tosfos without in some way connecting with Hashem. Torah lishma means there is no higher goal which is the purpose or aim or Torah study; Torah is synonomous with Hashem and is therefore the supreme religious value which justifies all else.

The Ba'al Shem and chassidus take a different view of things. Torah lishma in the Besht"s thinking means Torah study for the sake of dveykus; Torah is itself a mean to religious attachment to G-d, which is the supreme value (see Tzava'as haRiv"ash #30, esp. the shinuy nuschaus, which indicates that were it possible to achieve complete dveykus learning might no longer even be necessary!) Since it is hard to focus on contemplation of G-d while studying a Tosfos, one should take periodoc breaks while learning to refocus on the ultimate goal of dveykus.

The Midrash on our parsha which R' Chaim Volozhiner used as his prooftext has an interesting ending. The Midrash concludes with an exhortation by Hashem to build a Mishkan for his presence, which comes to us with the Torah. R' Tzadok (Pri Tzadik, Terumah 1) notes the seeming contradiction: on the one hand, Hashem is immanent in the Torah; on the other hand, Hashem asks us to build a Mishkan for his presence, implying that he resides outside the bounds of the Torah itself. It seems to me that the ambiguity of the Midrash captures the tension between the divergent views of R' Chaim and the Besh"T. The relationship between Mishkan, the symbol of dveykus, and Torah, intellectual study, is not clearly spelled out by the Midrash, and is left for us to puzzle over.

benefit of a large family: "we had our own culture"

From American Original: The Life and Constitution of Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia by Joan Biskupic, p.41:

...Recalling the turbulent 1970s, Scalia said of his children, "They were being raised in a culture that wasn't supportive of our values, that was certainly true. But we were helped by the fact that we were such a large family. We had our own culture... The first thing you've got to teach your kids is what my parents used to tell me all the time, 'You're not like everybody else... We have our own standards and they aren't the standards of the world in all aspects, and the sooner you learn that the better.'"

the holy goats of R' Chanina ben Dosa

The gemara (Ta’anic 25a) tells the story of certain goats owned by R’ Chanina ben Dosa which the neighbors complained were destroying property. R’ Chanina replied that if his goats were being destructive they should be eaten by wolves (girsa of Ain Ya’akov); if not, his goats should bring back two wolves in their horns. The next morning R’ Chanina’s goats were seen with wolves caught in their horns.

Goats spearing wolves is nothing short of miraculous. I think we can agree that it was not the tzidkus of the little goats that caused this miracle, but rather it was the tzidkus of R’ Chanina ben Dosa. Taking a step further back, it was not the tzidkus of the goats that gave R’ Chanina the confidence to say that they were not the cause of any property damage; rather, it was R’ Chanina’s own tzidkus.

The Ishbitza uses this gemara as the key to unlock the lesson of Parshas Mishpatim. The owner of the wild ox which gores, the person who fails to cover his pit, the person who does not control the fire he lights, is not only morally and legally responsible for damage done, but he is spiritually responsible to make amends as well. R’ Chanina was a tzadik; therefore, R’ Chanina’s goats were not destructive. QED that someone who does own goats which cause damage or an ox which gores is lacking in some measure of tzidkus. The concept of “ba’alus” is not just a legal construct, but has spiritual meaning as well, as all that comes into a person’s possession in some way connected to the root of their neshoma and will reflect the neshoma’s perfection or lack thereof.

how to fulfill mechiyas Amalek

Purim and Parshas Zachor are quickly approaching; our attention at this time of year turns to the perennial war with Amalek and the opportunity to fulfill the mitzvos of zecher Amalek, the lav of lo tishkach, and the mitzvah of mechiyas Amalek. The first two mitzvos on that list are relatively easy to fulfill, but you probably think the last one is near impossible to fulfill, at least not without being prepared for a long prison stay. But not so, as we shall see. I don't think it's coincidental that Parshas Zachor is the only krias haTorah that we do which is a kiyum d’oraysa. R' Elchanan Wasserman hy"d writes in Ikvesa d'Meshicha:

ודבר זה גלתה לנ תורה בהכתוב וילחם עם ישראל ברפידים ופירשו רז״ל שנרמז לנו בזה מפני מהי׳ כח עמלק להלחם עם ישראל
שרפו ידיהם מדרי תורה ולמדנו מזה כי סיבת כחו ועיזוזו של עמלק הוא ברפיוננו בלימוד תורה. ואם כן כל מה שמתגבר אצלנו הרפיון בד״ת מתגבר כחו של עמלק. ולהפך אם נתחזק בלמוד התורה יחלש כחו של עמלק

The ability of our enemies to pose a threat is directly related to our spiritual imperfection. Chazal teach us that Amalek was able to attack because of a lack of intensity in our Torah learning. Seems to me that remembering what happened and fulfilling zecher with a public Torah reading is more than a simple commemoration -- it is a corrective action which undoes that spiritual flaw. We failed in our Torah study efforts, and so we fulfill zecher by studying and reading Torah. R' Elchanan goes a step further:

וכל אדם משראל הלומד תורה או מחזיקה מחליש במדה ידועה כחו של עמלק ויש לו איזה חלק במצות מחיית עמלק

Since Amalek was empowered by our lack of Torah learning, the mitzvah of obliterating Amalek can be fulfilled by learning Torah! Now, you might think this is a nice derasha, but not meant to be taken literally. R' Elchahan adds in the very next line:

ואין אלו דברי דרוש כי צריכין אנו להאמין בפירושי רז״ל למקראות שהן דברים כהווייתן ממש

Just because something appears in a Midrash is not license to ignore it -- Chazal meant their explication to be taken seriously. In this case it establishes a new geder for the kiyum mitzvah of mechiyas Amalek, one which is very much in our power to fulfill.

Parshas Shekalim: Torah and economics

The braysa (Megillah 29a) tells us that on Rosh Chodesh Adar "mashmi'im al hashekalim," the alert goes out to contribute shekalim by Nissan, the start of a new fiscal year for the purchase of korbanos in the Mikdash. Rashi explains that this mashmi’im was done by Beis Din making public announcements. In this case what Rashi doesn’t say should grab our attention. This Shabbos we will fulfill the takanah of reading Parshas Shekalim on the Shabbos before Adar. Rashi makes no mention this reading in his explanation of “mashmi’im,” implying that the announcement to bring shekalim and the reading of Parshas Shekalim are two separate halachos. Similarly, the Rambam cites the takanah to read Parshas Sheklalim in Hil. Tefilah (13:20), yet places the takanah of mashmi’im al hashekalim in Hil. Shekalim (1:9). What purpose does the kri’as haTorah fulfill if it is not part and parcel of the takanah of mashmi’im?

Rav Tzadok haKohen has an in-depth discussion of this issue, but I want to make some simple points. Firstly, the donation of shekalim was instituted in part as a kaparah for the cheit ha’eigel. How does that work? How would people who just gathered gold for an idol, who are now charged with the task of gathering gold for a Mishkan and its korbanos, distinguish between the two? How do we balance the ideal of eschewing materialism and the god of mammon while collecting for the business needs of our institutions and organizations? The answer is that the takanah of collecting funds must be placed in the context of Torah. The reading of Parshas Shekalim was not just a means to remind people to get their donations in, but it set the framework necessary to give that act of donating proper meaning.

I read on some other blogs all kinds of ideas about what to do about the financial crisis in our community. Among the suggestions were ideas like closing yeshivos in favor of charter schools, not having as many kids, waiting a few years into marriage before having kids, etc. Suffice it to say that at least some of these ideas (and I don’t want to debate them here) involve questions of halacha, questions of chinuch, etc. I understand the well meaning intention to manage money better, but the mashmi’im, our takanah of when to collect and how to collect and what to use communal funds for, needs to be preceded by a kri’as haTorah, a consideration of what halacha and Torah require.

Would the administrator who presses the kollel guy to pay his “fair” share similarly press the businessman to spend an extra hour or two in the beis medrash to put in his “fair” share of talmud Torah? We all understand that bills need to be paid and not everyone who is sitting and learning all day should be, but an approach to solving the problem needs to be done with seichel and understanding, not by throwing everyone in the same bucket with the same expectations and responsibilities. Again, a sense of Torah value needs to guide solutions.

We also need a kri’as haTorah to remind us what we are collecting for. The Beis haMikdash was a beautiful building, korbanos were the select most choice animals, but beautiful buildings are a means, not an end. My chavrusa calls this the “edifice” complex. The greater purpose cannot be lost or trampled in the shuffle.

Lastly, we need a kri’as haTorah to provide the sense of unity to help forge one machatzis hashekel with another machatzis and create wholeness. I live near a multi million dollar shul building that sits empty all day while a yeshiva in the next town tries to raise its own capital for a new building. The idea that this is “my” building and not “theirs”, that it’s “my” cause in competition with “theirs,” has no place in a Torah community. We are all (supposedly? ideally?) on the same team, working for the same goals. If all kinds of other factors creep into the agenda, the result is divisiveness and disunity, competition in place of cooperation. If harbatzas haTorah is the only item on the agenda, then k’ish echad b’lev echad, we can all work together to do what’s best for our communities.

ee avid lo mehanei -- mechira, shechita on Shabbos

I ended off yesterday’s post with the question why we don’t say ee avid lo mehanei by the case of selling land latzmisus, for perpetuity. In the case of someone who covets an object and forces the owner to sell it, violating lo tachmod, we explained that ee avid lo mehanei doesn’t apply because the issur is in the coveting, the desire -- the actual sale is just an expression, a siman, of the issur, not the issur itself. However, with respect to the issur of lo timacheir latzmisus it seems clear that the sale itself is the act which the Torah prohibits.

PC already suggested a sevara in a comment, and while I don’t think it was the Magid Mishne’s intent (see yesterday’s post), the sevara is nonetheless a good one. Let me introduce it with a different question (raised in Shu”T R’ Akiva Eiger): why is meat shechted on Shabbos (first offense of the shochet) kosher? Since the Torah prohibits shechita on Shabbos, why not say ee avid lo mehanei?

The answer to the question becomes clear if we reframe it in a different context. If you build a house on Shabbos, would you say ee avid lo mehanei because you violated the melacha of boneh? That makes no sense – the house is standing, it is a metziyus; ee avifd lo mehanei cannot deny or undo reality. Similarly, shechita is nothing more than a metziyus, a reality, of meat which has been slaughtered properly. No amount of legal grandstanding can undo reality. (I'm just using this case to make a point, so let’s save for another time the discussion of whether this answer is true, i.e. whether shechita is in fact simply a metziyus or whether it is a din, a heter achila, that results from a metziyus.)

We once discussed why the rule of aseh doche lo ta’aseh doesn’t apply to dinei mamonos (link) and we raised the following question: is ownership a result of the fact that there is an issur of gezel on anyone else taking an object, or is the issur of gezel a result of the existance of ownership? R' Shimon Shkop opts for the latter definition. First clarify the rules of the marketplace, what ownership means, how property is acquired, etc. and then we can apply the rules of issur v'heter and discuss whether gezel applies.

Ee avid lo mehanei can undo a halachic construct, but it cannot undo reality. Commercial law creates its own reality – a sale is a sale by virtue of the rules of the marketplace. Whether a sale violates lo tahcmod, or mechira latzmisus, in either case the sale stands and cannot be undone.

thoughts on the Rav, Rav Kook

I was asked my opinion of the quote from Rav Aviner claiming that Rav Soloveitchik addressed the religious individual but not broader communal issues, unlike Rav Kook who provided a "complete method of understanding." It's a thought provoking quote, no? As for my opinion, first a few caveats: I am not a talmid of RYBS, so I am probably the wrong person to comment. My exposure to the Rav is limited to what has been printed. Secondly, I have not read enough of Rav Kook's torah to consider myself well informed about his views. Thirdly, my views on issues like this change all the time, so don't hold me to anything : ) This is just some off the cuff thinking aloud:

My first reaction was that addresses like "Kol Dodi Dofeik" do speak to the larger import of historical events and their impact the community. Yet, the more I thought about the quote, the more my mind kept coming back to the fact that the Rav's philosophical magnum opus is "Halakhic Man" -- not halakhic community. And it's not just "Halakhic Man", but in other essays the Rav uses typologies like "Ish Rosh Chodesh," the singular individual and his/her experience as a paradigm. Might the "Lonely Man of Faith" find comfort if he recognized a "community of faith?"

Isn't it odd that Rabbis Saul Berman and Avi Weiss have written essays in which they try to set out clear "gedarim" of what modern orthodoxy is, yet the Rav, from whom they drew their inspiration, never made an attempt to articulate a similar vision? How much clearer many of the issues under debate in the MO world would be had he done so! I think it's this lack of a larger all-incompasing statement which motivated Rav Aviner's comment. I am reminded of the Rav's hesped for his uncle, the Brisker Rav, in which he explains the B.R.'s approach to Zionism. The Rav explained that his uncle was not anti-Zionist -- he simply had no opinion. Eretz Yisrael is to be discussed in context of a sugya in Hil. Terumos, a Rambam about kedushas ha'aretz, but there is no "din" of nationalism and therefore it simply did not exist on his map of reality. For "Halakhic Man" there is no larger philosophical framework (e.g. a philosophy of modern orthodoxy) in which halacha exists -- to the contrary, halacha is the framework into which all else must fit or be discarded. Secular studies, Zionism, etc. stand out as appendages stuck onto Halakhic Man, but not part of his essence, his core. But for many of us these are core issues, and we struggle integrating these ideas into the larger whole.

I am only an amateur dabbler in Rav Kook's writings, but from what I have read he stands at the opposite extreme -- his writings flow in a stream-of-consciousness type way, speaking in universal ideals, philosophical broad strokes, and vision. I have never found in Rav Kook the precise gedaim which I so enjoy in Brisker lomdus and the Rav's typologies. As opposed to the Brisker tendency to split what appears to be one into tzvey dinim, Rav Kook takes the alma d'piruda and shows how on a higher level kodesh and chol, chiloni and dati, it all comes from one holy source and all is united. There are no appendages -- everything ultimately is one, oraysa, Kudsha Brich Hu, Am Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael. I think talmidei talmidim like Rav Aviner and other dati-leumi Roshei Yeshiva share a common perspective to a larger degree than the many talmidim of the Rav do precisely because Rav Kook articulated a more powerful complete vision, a vision that exceeds the confines of 4 amos of halacha and took in the universe as a whole.

It tool me two days to figure out how to put these thoughts into words and I don't think I did such a good job of capturing what I wanted to say, but this is only a blog and I feel free to take the liberty of playing around without crafting a polished essay. This is a topic worth spending more time on and revisiting at a later date.

ee avid lo mehanei

The gemara (Temurah 4) has a machlokes Abaye and Rava whether ee avid lo mehanei -- if a person does an action that would normally produce a certain halachic outcome, but that action was done b’issur, is the resultant outcome produced? Yesterday we discussed the issur of lo tachmod, which according to the Rambam is violated not just if you seize a neighbor’s property which you covet, but even if you talk your neighbor into selling the item. The Magid Mishne asks why a sale done in this circumstance is valid. Since the buyer is in violation of lo tachmod, why not apply the rule of ee avid lo mehanei and invalidate the sale?

M.M. answers by comparing this case to that of a thief who steals wool and makes it into a garment. Despite the issur of gezel, the halacha is that the thief is koneh the wool and pays the owner back only the value of what was stolen, not the garment. Here too, despite the issur involved in the transaction, the buyer is koneh the item. I am not clear on what the M.M. means. In the case of the stolen wool, the object has been transformed from what it once was. The same does not apply in our case.

Perhaps we can answer the M.M.’s question using the sevara of the Steipler discussed in yesterday’s post. The Steipler explained that lo tachmod is defined as a lav she'ain bo ma'aseh because what is prohibited is coveting a neighbor’s property; the act of buying or seizing that property just serves as a means through which halacha measures or recognizes that existance of desire (coveting). EE avid lo mehanei applies on ly where the act being done is the focus of the issur; in our case, the sale is just a siman, an indicator as to what lies in a person's heart.

Let's make things a little more challenging: the Torah prohibits selling land “latzmisus” – permanently. Rambam (Hil. Shemita ch 11) writes that property must be restored to its original owner during the Yovel, even if sold for perpetuity. Yet, the implication of the Rambam is that such a sale is valid – just the yovel law overrides the terms and conditions. Why is the sale valid? Here the language of the issur – “lo timacheir latzmisus” – clearly suggests that the sale itself is what is prohibited, so why not apply the rule of ee avid lo mehanei?

Can you come up with a chiluk between the din of latzmisus and lo tachmod? Can you come up with another way to answer this question of the M.M.? It's a snowy day in NY, so you may be home in your armchair (I had to trudge into work) -- now you have something to ponder while sipping the hot chocolate.

Rav Kook vs. R' Soloveitchik: toras hatzibur vs. toras hayachid

From the blog of R' Aviner (link):

Despite this idea, the authorities mention the issue of deciding based on "the majority of wisdom" (i.e. greater knowledge and expertise in a particular area of Halachah), and there are even those who say that we follow a "majority of wisdom" over a "majority of number" (Likutei Ha-Ramban, Sanhedrin chap. 4 in the name of the Rahag). One must distinguish between "the majority of wisdom" for each authority based on his area of expertise: there are Rabbis whose expertise is monetary laws, and there are Rabbis whose expertise is in Kashrut, etc... Maran Ha-Rav Avraham Yitzhak Ha-Cohain Kook's expertise was in the area of the workings of Klal Yisrael relating the rebuilding of our Nation and our Land, the beginning of the Redemption and in understanding the Master of the Universe’s direction of our history. He investigated, clarified, arranged, and constructed a complete method of understanding, whose scope and depth is far above all of the Sages of the generation of Acharonim (later authorities).

For example, Ha-Rav Joseph Soloveitchik, with all of his brilliance, did not construct an all-compassing method of understanding, and all of his teachings were, in essence, about the phenomenon of the religious individual. He did not present a philosophy of communal faith: The Rav only discussed the religious experience of the individual as opposed to the communal religious experience which includes understanding Hashem's role is guiding the history of the Nation of Israel.

rambam/ra'avad on lo tachmod

The Rambam writes (Hil Gezeilah ch 1) that the issur of lo tachmod is violated if a person covets his neighbors property and talks him into selling it. Ra’avad disagrees and writes that so long as the neighbor says “Rotzeh ani” – “I want to sell it,” there is no prohibition. According to the Ra’avad, lo tachmod is violated only if the coveted property is seized a against one's neighbor's will.

Rambam writes further that there are no malkos for violating lo tachmod because it is a lav she’ain bo ma’aseh. Ra’avad disagrees and opines that the reason for the lack of malkos is because lo tachmod is nitan l’tashlumin, the object taken must be returned.

The Magid Mishne suggests that these are not two separate issues, but one point is contingent upon the other, l’shitasam. The Rambam holds that lo tachmod is violated even if a valid sale is done and there is no obligation of tashlumin; the reason for the lack of malkos must be because there is no ma’aseh involved in violating the lav. The Ra’avad who understands lo tachmod to be seizure by force, an active ma'aseh, is forced to invoke the idea of nitan l’tashlumin for the dispensation from malkos.

But why according to the Rambam are we so convinced that this lav lacks a ma’aseh? True, talking a neighbor into selling something does not involve physical action, but coercive tactics are not limited to verbal pressure alone. One can easily imagine a scenario where all kinds of action are involved in pressuring someone into a sale.

The Steipler (Birchas Peretz, P' Yisro) answers that the issur of lo tachmod is not the effort to obtain a neighbor’s property – the issur is coveting a neighbor’s property, the emotion and desire. However, that desire must make itself manifest before halacha recognizes it. Lo tachmod is defined as a lav she’ain bo ma’aseh because the deed or talk involved in obtaining what belongs to someone else is just an indicator of the desire of the heart, but it is that desire which is the actual subject of the issur.

Another example of the same idea: Tosfos (Shavuos 4a) writes that if someone took an oath to eat a specific loaf of bread and then threw that loaf into the sea, he would not get malkos because the violation of the shevu’a, not eating the bread, is a lav she’ain bo ma’aseh. Question: in this case the person did a ma’aseh by tossing the loaf into the sea, so why is there no malkos? The answer again is that tossing the bread in the sea is just a demonstration that the person does not want to eat it, but it is the lack of eating which is the actual violation of the lav.

the wisdom of Chazal -- an unlikely source

I knocked myself out last week posting a long R’ Tzadok on the distinction between the knowledge of Chazal, which emerges from Divine insight, and other chochmos, which are just knowledge. Lo and behold my Reform brothers and sisters have posted exactly the same message (link here). I don’t know if their proof texts are the best ones to use, but they at least they are open to the idea:

I believe these tales balance our lack of worldly power in this world with the abundance drawn from the Divine world. Whether it is the Bat Kol revealing secret knowledge or the superior knowledge gained through Torah, the message is that the Jews hold a higher truth that cannot be gained through worldly power. Not only do we answer to a Higher authority [like Hebrew National], but that same authority provides us with insight.

What is amazing is not that even a Rabbi whose first name is Amy sees these ideas in her study of Talmud -- what is amazing is that people who profess fidelity to halacha do not.

R' Soloveitchik on "Anochi Hashem Elokecha"

Two thoughts on “Anochi Hashem Elokecha” which I heard b’shem R’ Soloveitchik:

1) A person might c”v find it hard to accept that the G-d who fought against the Egyptians is the same G-d who now patiently acts as a teacher to give his people Torah. Therefore, explains Rashi, the Aseres Hadobros begin, “Anochi… asher hotzeysicha”-- I, Hashem the lawgiver, am the same Hashem who tool you out of Egypt.

We have an obligation to imitate Hashem’s ways. The Torah is hinting that at times we must act like a warrior, at times like a patient scholar. We must respond as the situation requires and not be rigid and inflexible in our nature.

2) The echo of Hashem’s voice reverberated throughout the world and seemed to come from every direction. Rashi explains that “Anochi” reinforced the idea that there is only one Hashem that is the source of all of those voices, not multiple beings c”v.

Why create the potential for error by producing a voice that echoed from every corner of the world? Because the voice of Torah does and can echo in every corner of the globe. Whether a Jew is in NY, or Jerusalem, or China, there is no corner of the world in which Torah cannot be learned and taught.

preparations for kabbalas haTorah

בַּחֹדֶשׁ, הַשְּׁלִישִׁי, לְצֵאת בְּנֵי-יִשְׂרָאֵל, מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם--בַּיּוֹם הַזֶּה, בָּאוּ מִדְבַּר סִינָי.
וַיִּסְעוּ מֵרְפִידִים, וַיָּבֹאוּ מִדְבַּר סִינַי, וַיַּחֲנוּ, בַּמִּדְבָּר; וַיִּחַן-שָׁם יִשְׂרָאֵל, נֶגֶד הָהָר.

These two pesukim (19:1-2) seem to be filled with repetition and a lack of order. Why put "ba'u midbar Sinai" (the end of pasuk 1) before the description of leaving Refidim? Why repeat that the camp was set up "bamidbar" (pasuk 2) -- obviously so, when we were just told "vayavo'u midbar Sinai"?

The Ibn Ezra is probably closest to pshuto shel mikra here in explaining that the second pasuk is simply an elaboration on the statement "ba'u midbar Sinai" at the end of the first, but that doesn't really explain all the instances of repetition. Ramban adds that the clause "va'yavo'u midbar Sinai" in the second pasuk emphasizes that they camped immediately upon reaching the Sinai desert so that they could begin preparing for mattan Torah; there was no time lost scouting out the best campground. Ohr haChaim covers even more bases derech derush. The second pasuk is not a description of travel -- the first pasuk already told us they arrived at Sinai -- but is rather a description of the preparation required for mattan Torah. There are three key ingredients necessary for kabbalas haTorah: 1) "Vayis'u m'Refidim" -- Chazal tell us that the name Refidim is a hint to "rafu y'deyhem", a lack of zeal and intensity in learning. The people had to re-energize themselves to receive the Torah. (Netziv writes that kedusha is absorbed in proportion to the effort and preparation made to receive it; therefore even the journey toward Sinai had to be made with alacrity and zeal). 2) "Vayavo'u midbar Sinai, vayachanu bamidbar" -- Torah can only be absorbed with a sense of humility; the people had to become low, like the desert. 3) "Vayichan sham yisrael..." -- as Rashi explains, "vayichan" in the singular reflects a sense of unity, the third necessary ingredient for kabbalas haTorah.

It is easy to speak of re-energizing, of approaching Torah and even preparation for Torah with zeal, but where is that energy and inspiration supposed to come from? The Shem m'Shmuel has a nice thought based on these pesukim. The Besh"t taught that a person is where his/her machshava is. (I think one of my kids spends most of her days not in school based on this principle!) The road to kabbalas haTorah is very difficult if you think of taking step after step after step through the hot desert sun until you get there. But if you think that you are already there, you are mentally ready and waiting for kabbalas haTorah, it's just a few steps to the desert until it happens, then the journey is much easier. "Va'yavo'u midbar Sinai" -- the people mentally arrived at Sinai, and only then, "Va'yisu m'Refidim..." they began the actual physical journey, inspired and energized.

Maybe it would be a good idea (I can dream, right?) to give away free tickets to the next siyum hashas immediately after the next masechta or cycle finishes. "Va'yavo'u midbar Sinai" -- you have the tickets, your seat is reserved, you're already there at the Garden! Even better than Superbowl tickets (OK, maybe that's pushing it : ) You already start thinking about yourself as a Jew who has finishes shas at least once in his life -- tremendous! The next couple of hundred daf are going to go a lot easier. How many bnei Torah are sitting b'guf in yeshiva with their machshava some place else because they don't believe this idea and we do such a poor job communicating it?

noble ideals no matter what the title is

To her credit, I think this is a great quote (cited in the Jewish Star under a ridiculously misleading headline) from Rabbah/Maharat Hurwitz:

“I’m pretty traditional,” Hurwitz admitted drolly with a faint South African
accent. “I know halacha. I keep halacha very carefully. I have tremendous
emunah. I can’t convince somebody else that I really am Orthodox and that Rabbi
Weiss is really Orthodox. The only way is for somebody to realize it themselves.
And they’ll realize it.”

“All I’m doing is teaching Torah. Learning Torah. Helping people in their difficult times and their happiest times; and through Yeshiva Maharat I’m helping others learn to do the same.”

Just wanted to point it out in case you missed it amidst all the mud-slinging over what her title should be. If you take the issue of what to call her off the table, there is nothing not to applaud here (and yes, I realize that the "what to call her" is a big issue placed on the table by her and Rabbi Weiss' deliberate choice).

Having had to decide on a H.S. for my eldest daughter recently, I can tell you one of the issues that my wife and I repeatedly have discussed is the neither-here-nor-there attitude towards girls' education. On the one hand, schools have to go through the motions of really teaching something; on the other hand, no school (neither on the right or left) really aims to produce a girl who will spend her free time immersed in a sefer. People live up to the exectations set. Women will by and large spend their leisure time (which modern society allows for more of than any other point in history) immersed in the latest sheitel ads rather than immersed in Rashi, halacha, or other limudim. Is that better than doing what Maharat/Rabbah Hurwitz does with her time?

the wisdom of Chazal (II)

(Continued from part I.) A human being can harvest the wheat, make the four, knead the dough, but once the bread is in the oven it is no longer in his hands. At that point something else takes over, or more specifically, someone else -- Hashem.

Rav Ashi knew that, and he knew that the evidence of Hashem's taking over (so to speak) is in the crust of the bread that forms because of the baking process. So why didn't he point to that spot as the focus of his bracha, the point over which the "hamotzi" is recited? Why did he not answer King Menashe's question? Here Rav Tzadok says something incredible:

והיה אפשר לרב אשי לסבור סברא זו מהיכן דקדים בישולא מעצמו גם כן דזה שכל פשוט דמהיכן שמקדים לאפות כבר קדם להיות מוכן למאכל אדם. רק כל הלכות של חכמי התלמוד לא היה אלא מדברים המושגים בהתגלות לבם ולא מן השכל לבד שזה אין נקרא חכמה כלל באמת. וכל זמן שלא היה בהתגלות לבבו הכרה זו שהיכי דקדים בישולא השם יתברך מקדים להכין לו המזון אז לא היה יכול להורות דמברך המוציא שם דאין דברי חז"ל והלכות שלהם כמנהגים הקבועים באיזה ספר מוסר מצד השערת שכל. דאם כן מה היה ההבדל בין התלמוד המקודש לספרים אחרים מחכמי ישראל. אבל כל הלכות שלהם הוא רק מהתגלות הלב עד שנפתח הפה בהכרח לומר הלכה זו שאי אפשר כלל בענין אחר. והיינו על ידי הרגשת הנוכח דהשם יתברך בפרט כל דבר עד שירגיש באמת בלבבו איך השם יתברך ברגע זו שליט בכל והוא אופה פיתו ומכין מזונו ולולי הוא לא היה לו לאכול עד שממילא נפתח פיו לברך המוציא בדוכתי דקדים בישולא על ידי הרגשה ברורה ומפורשת בלב כזו אפשר לחדש אותה הלכה להיות הלכה קבועה אחר כך בתלמוד. כידוע דכל דבר שכבר היה אחד שהרגיש בירור אור זה על בוריו כבר נפתח שער אותו האור בעולם. והוא פתוח אחר כך לכל דזה כל ענין עסק הדורות שקבע השם יתברך אף על פי שהם מתקטנים והולכים. לפי שכל האורות שנפתחים בכל דור ודור על ידי אנשי סגולה מחכמי ישראל אין נסתמים עוד והם פתוחים לעולם ונעשים הלכות קבועות לכל ישראל:

Because knowing the answer is not enough! So long as Rav Ashi did not feel in the depths of his soul that this was the truth, the fact that he mentally understood it was insufficient. R' Tzadok talks epistomology: Torah is not what Chazal understood, not some body of facts or knowledge which Chazal figured out or derived. Were that the case, the Torah of Chazal would be no different than any other collection of wisdom or body of knowledge. Torah requires "hisgalus halev" -- a revelation that springs not from the mind, but from the depths of the neshoma.

Rav Tzadok speaks in so many places of the gemara in Baba Basra (12, Ch. Ramban there) which tells us that although open prophecy has been lost, there is still an echo of nevuah which remains to the Chachamim. "Ari yish'ag mi lo yinabei" -- when prophecy overwhelmes a person with its roar, it is an inescapable message that must be delivered and spoken. When a talmid chacham is inspired by this "hidden" level of prophecy, he cannot but help teach the Torah revealed to him to others, who in turn are inspired and drawn to the message, their hearts opened. Knowledge, facts, wisdom, lack this quality, and are not Torah.

Chazal were not greater than us just in degree; it's not that their IQ was higher, they did better on their SAT, that they were all Mensa members. Chazal's understanding was different in kind. The wisdom of Chazal, the wisdom that comes from the clarity of "hisgalus halev", is a different type of intelligence than even the smartest of us have. That type of knowledge is not acquired by doing lateral thinking problems or brain exercises -- it's acquired by tzidkus and yiras shamayim and learning lots of Torah.
ולפיכך אף על פי שדורות אחרונים קטנים מכל מקום יש להם מעלה זו דננס על גבי ענק. כי כבר פתוחים לפניהם כל שערים שפתחו קדמונים והם מחדשים והולכים לפתוח שערים אחרים. אף על פי שהם קטנים מאד מכל מקום הם במעמקים יותר. כי הם כבר עברו שער בנפשם שנפתח לראשונים:

What does it mean that our generation "stands on the shoulders of giants"? If Einstein was a genius and I lived after Einstein, am I any smarter? Makes no sense. But again, we are not speaking of the mind, we are speaking of the neshoma. When Chazal revealed a Torah teaching, it was not just another fact to pass on to the next generation, but it was a transformation of the neshomos of klal yisrael. Chazal did not just make the unknown known, they made the unfelt into a hisgalus halev.

Rav Ashi knew the right answer, but he recognized that in his mind it was just wisdom, it was not Torah, and his teaching it in shiur would not open the hearts and neshomos of his listeners. That revelation could only come from Menashe, who not only understood the right answer, he felt it.

Given this framework, does it make any sense in the world for a person to sit back in his armchair and think that since Chazal lived in a patriarchical society, therefore they instituted patriarchical system of law, a system which we need to do our best to circumvent now that we are more enlightened? Does it make any sense to say that since Chazal lived in a society that had certain pagan ritual practices, they therefore adopted certain rules regarding nidah or other laws? Is "hidden" nevuah that comes from hisgalus halev subject to bias, subjectivity, a product only of the spirit of its time, or is it an eternal truth?

There is so much more to this particular R' Tzadok. See it inside (Resisei Layla #13) if you can!

the wisdom of Chazal (I)

There is an amazing R' Tzadok in Resisei Layla (#13) that is worth seeing in its entirety inside, but I just want to discuss a little piece that I quoted elsewhere in a comment. A difficult gemara (Sanhedrin 102b): Rav Ashi was saying shiur and remarked that tomorrow he will discuss "our buddy" Menashe. That night King Menashe appeared to Rav Ashi in a dream and asked how he dared refer to Menashe as his buddy. "Do you even know where to slice bread when you say the bracha of haMotzi?" demanded Menashe. Rav Ashi replied that he did not, and he offered to say over that halacha in the name of Menashe in the shiur if he would teach it to him. Menashe answered that the bread is broken where it first forms a crust, but he then chastised Rav Ashi, "You don't even know where to slice bread and you call me your 'buddy'?!"

The gemara continues with Rav Ashi asking Menashe why he worshipped avodah zarah if he was such a talmid chacham and Menashe replying, but we'll leave that for another time. What's going on in this section of the story? If Menashe wanted to show up Rav Ashi, teaching him that he was not as smart as he thought he was, you would expect him to stump him with some difficult sugya in taharos, maybe a shverr Rambam ; ) -- why ask him davka this halacha of where to slice the bread for hamotzi? Even more perplexing: I can't imagine that Rav Ashi had not said "hamotzi" hundreds of times before -- how did he not know this halacha?

ואמרו בסנהדרין (קב ב) חברא קרית לי מהיכי קשרו המוציא וכו' פירוש כי הברכה שתיקנו חכמים הוא הכרת הנוכח שהשם יתברך זן ומפרנס ונותן דבר מאכל והנאה זו ועל זה מברכין ברוך אתה ה' בנוכח אלא דמכל מקום הסיום בלשון נסתר המוציא וכו' וכן כל הברכות כי הכרת הנוכח הוא בדרך כלל מה שהוא מורשה מאבות. אבל בדרך פרט שיכיר בכל ענין הנוכח מהשם יתברך המורה לו באצבע לומר זה הדרך לכו וגו' כענין שהיה בימות הנביאים זה נסתלק. וזהו ששאל מהיכי קשרו וכו' פירוש אם אתה מכיר בפרט נתינת השם יתברך לחם לכל בשר ולדעת מהיכן הוא ההתחלה שהתחיל השם יתברך להכין לך לחם ומזון שעל זה תברך לו בפרט:

I once wrote an article for my wife's magazine contrasting the mitzvah of challah with the mitzvah of bikurim. All a farmer has to do for bikurim is to go out to his tree and grab one of the fruits that Hashem made the tree produce. However, to fulfill the mitzvah of challah involves harvesting wheat, going through the whole process of turning it into flour, mixing that flour into dough to make bread, and finally seperating off a portion. After all that human effort involved in making the bread, the mitzvah of challah reminds us that it's still food which Hashem provides and not our own handiwork alone.

We all know in a general sense that Hashem provides our sustenance, our parnasa, whatever we need, but it is very hard for to identify with that when it comes down to the specifics, e.g. to feel that Hashem provided me with this computer, this desk, today's job, this minute's task. We start our brachos speaking directly to Hashem -- "Baruch atah..." -- but we end the bracha in a third person generality, "HaMotzi..." When we look at the loaf before us, we recognize in some vague way that Hashem had something to do with it, but we can't really put our finger on and we don't sense Hashem's direct involvement in this specific loaf.

This was Menashe's challenge to Rav Ashi. A bracha is a recognition of Hashem; "Tell me, Rav Ashi, what specific spot in this loaf can you identify as Hashem's gift to you? What specific step in the process of producing this edible loaf causes you to say, "'Aha! That's Hashem's gift?'" The Nevi'im who lived in the generation of Menashe were privy to recognition of Hashem in that way, but Rav Ashi was no Navi.

This was very long, so I decided to treat Rav Ashi's response as a new post

"belief" in kabbalah

Another quote from a modern orthodox Rabbi that caught my eye on another blog was the following statement about kabbalah: "...One can be a full and complete Jew while disbelieving all of it." This Rabbi goes on to say that one must nonetheless recognize the contribution of kabbalah to our prayers, our rituals, and our customs.

With all due respect, I have no idea how to interpret such an unequivocal statement. What does it mean to conclusively “disbelieve” (not "lack understanding of", not "lack of interest in" -- "disbelieve") in kabbalah? How does a layperson (for whom this Rabbi's book is intended) arrive at such a firm "disbelief"? I had jotted down a bunch of other thoughts and questions, but I decided to just quote what R’ Tzadok haKohen writes in his Sefer Zichronos, citing a tshuvah of the Bach:

תה שנתפרסמה חכמת האמת בעולם מוסכם בפי חכמי ישראל האמיתים וכל הכופר בה הוא מכלל האפיקורסים ...דהמלעיג על דברי חכמים ומדבר דופי על דברי הקבלה שהיא מקור התורה ועיקרה וכולה יראת שמים פשיטא שאין לך מזלזל בדברי חכמים גדול מזה

Enough said. Harsh words indeed, words designed to leave an impact and grab our attention.

two functions of eidus

Last week we discussed the principle of "lo te'hey shemiya gedolah m'reiya," i.e. dayanim who witnesses an event can pasken on the basis of their observations without hearing testimony. For example (R"H 25), three dayanim who see the new moon can declare rosh chodesh without other witnesses having to come forward and say that they saw the moon.

The Rashba (B"K 90) writes that although a single judge who is a mumche (expert) is allowed to pasken alone, the principle of "lo te'hey shemiya gedolah m'reiya" does not apply to him. Question: if the observation of a dayan serves as its own evidence and proof, why can one judge not pasken on that basis but three can?

The Ketzos (7:5) explains that a single judge who observes an event is not more authoritative than any other single witness. Since a ba'al din can contradict an eid echad and get off by just taking a shevua, the ba'al din can also contradict the judge serving as his own eid echad and is therefore never bound by the final psak.

R' Shimon Shkop (Sha’arei Yosher 7:1) explains the Rashba differently. He writes that witnesses serve a dual function: 1) they clarify the facts of the case before the court; 2) their testimony empowers the court to act. While a single judge’s observation is sufficient to allow him to decide who is chayav and who is patur, it is only “al pi shenayim eidim yakim davar,” only two witnesses which can empower the court with the authority to mete our punishment or to compel one of the parties to pay.

A final question for thought: the halacha is that "ain eid na'asah dayan," i.e. a witness can not serve as a judge on the same case he is testifying in. How then does "lo te'hey shemiya gedolah m'reiya" work? How can people who observe an event simultaneously serve as judges and witnesses? Is this a klutz kashe or something to think about?

"our" poskim vs. "their" poskim?

A certain Rabbi writes on his blog that other "movements" have their poskim, past and present -- Rav Moshe, Rav Henkin, Rav Kook, Rav Aniner, Rav Asher Weiss, etc. (his examples) -- and he raises the question of who the leading posek for modern or centrist orthodoxy is since the passing of Rav Soloveitchik. B'mechilas kvodo, with no disrespect intended, I don't understand the question. Are achronim and gedolim to be defined by their belonging to a sociological or political faction and accepted/rejected on that basis? Is ideology now to be a determining factor in whether psak halacha is valid and authentic? While gedolim do not always share philosophical outlook, hashkafos, these differences do not effect their psak and should not effect our acceptance of psak any more than a mathematicians leanings in the realm of theory has an effect on the results of an equation.

I am troubled by this type of dialogue that emphasizes separateness -- our poskim vs. their poskim, our mesorah vs. their mesorah -- instead of the commonality of torah study. It’s one thing to dismiss it in the blogsphere, it’s another thing when even Rabbanim start speaking in those terms and accepting this imaginary dichotomy as real. Rav Moshe (for example) was not the posek of a particular community -- he was the posek of klal yisrael, just like R' Akiva Eiger, the Noda b'Yehudah, etc. The legacy of these poskim does not belong to a particular niche group or faction, but rather to every person who identifies as a ben torah, whether he be chassidic, litvish, modern orthodox, or religious zionist. That is not to say that one must follow every psak of R’ Moshe -- one does not follow every hora’ah of the Noda B’Yehudah. It means respecting the psak and ideas of gedolei hora’ah as relevant to one’s life, as worthy of study and consideration.

materialism

From "In CHEAP We Trust: The Story of a Misunderstood American Virtue" by Lauren Weber, p. 10:

Cheapness doesn’t necessarily require abstinence and austerity – simply a thoughtfulness and care about how we live, and a skepticism toward the messages peddled by the retail-industrial complex. It means seeing oneself as an outsider in a world that values instant gratification and promotes the idea that we can understand and express our identities through the products we consume. It means embracing and even cultivating an adversarial relationship with consumer culture. It means rejecting the belief that spending money is the route to feeling good about ourselves or feeling better than, or the same as, or different from other people, that it can help us fulfill our longings or soothe our hearts.

Sounds like an attitude towards materialism that we should embrace. Maybe a good book to pack and read while tanning on the beach in Cancun for Pesach.

a feminist model of leadership

The Chasam Sofer contrasts the shirah of Bnei Yisrael, the shirah of the men, which was preceded by an upswing in emunah and trust not only in Hashem but also in Moshe, “Vaya’aminu b’Hashem u’bMoshe avdo,” and which was sung (according to some views) responsively with Moshe, with the shirah of the women, which was led by Miriam in addition to Moshe. Chasam Sofer suggests that this emphasis on Moshe as the conduit to the miraculous opened the door to the cheit ha’eigel. Because so much was trust invested in Moshe as a leader, an authority figure, a miracle-maker, some replacement had to be found when Moshe was missing. The women, on the other hand, never thought of Moshe as the exclusive conduit to the miraculous – their shirah was also sung in response to Miriam, who they valued despite her not performing overt miracles or taking on the overt trappings of leadership. Therefore, the women never succumbed to the draw of the eigel.

Is there perhaps a unique feminist concept of leadership, less concerned with central authoritarian figureheads, which has its own dynamic? Are their advantages to this type of collaborative model?

Interestingly, the haftarah seems to reverse things. It is Devorah who tells Barak to lead the fight alone, yet Barak insists that Devorah participate as well, thereby sharing his authority (and the responsibility for the war).

war with Mitzrayim and war with Amalek

Little time to write today, so just a quick thought from the Ishbitza: there are two different wars mentioned in this week’s parsha of Beshalach and they are fought in two different ways. When the Egyptian army was in hot pursuit at Yam Suf, Moshe was told “Hashem yilachem lachem,” G-d will do the fighting. Yet, later in the parsha, when Bnei Yisrael were forced to fight Amalek, Moshe instructed Yehoshua to choose men for an army and to go and wage war. Why the difference?

The Ishbitza explains that the Egyptians and Amalek posed very different dangers. The Egyptians denied the power of Hashem, the truth of Judaism. Pharaoh challenged Moshe, “Mi Hashem asheh eshma b’kolo?” – “Who is G-d that I should listen to Him?” The nation of Amalek did not deny G-d, but instead claimed that they, and not Bnei Yisrael, were G-d’s people and their ideology was the truth. The very existence of Amalek was taken as proof of G-d’s acquiescence to their “mission.” The defeat of these enemies required not just a physical armed response, but also, and more importantly, it required an ideological response to their wrong philosophy. (Compare this Ishbitza with the vort of the Brisker Rav we discussed here.)

In response to the Egyptian denial of G-d, Hashem told the Jewish people to stand aside and allow him battle for them, demonstrating that human effort is inconsequential in the face of G-d’s will. In response to the Amalekite usurpation of the truth, G-d instructed Moshe to raise an army and fight, demonstrating that G-d’s will is manifest only through human agency, and that human agency can either further or distort G-d’s message.

The battles against Egypt and Amalek, like all parshiyos, teach us a limud l’doros. These two enemies are archetypes of the challenges we face to this very day, and you can just browse the internet to find the battlefields of Yam Suf or Refidim. On the one hand, there are the skeptics who relish denial, “proving” religion to be a sham, lining up their memorized clichés from Dennet, Hitchens, Dawkins, documentary hypothesis, or whatever else is out there. On the other hand, there are those who do not deny Torah, but have usurped its authentic message and replaced it with a substitute more palatable to their lifestyle, intelligence, or desires, dismissing all who disagree as either irrational fanatics or ignorant fools. It's up to us to craft the proper ideological response to both of these challenges.

a model for debate and discussion

Its probably not new, but I first noticed it recently on jrants -- there is a blog for Reform judaism. Of course I don't suggest giving up reading me for the divrei torah over there : ) -- The reason I bring it up is because I found what I think is wonderful feature on the Union for Reform Judaim website called "Eilu v'Eilu" that I wish we could borrow and make part of some sort of Orthodox forum. The goal of "Eilu v'Eilu" is to raise an issue and have two differing views presented, followed by a chance for rebuttal by both sides, some responses to questions, and a concluding summary -- about four posts/responses in total on each issue. The responses are brief; there are no multi-page essays, but simply short position papers outlining the gist of an argument followed by a short response to the other side. From looking over their archives it seems to me that while the idea is good, the implementation suffers from a major weakness in that most of the respondants take positions that are none too far apart. For example, two Reform rabbis reflect on the benefits of intermarriage and the responses are then contrasted. I guess perhaps perhaps no one is left in the reform movement willing to object to intermarriage and defend that position, which would make for more interesting/entertaining reading. (If you are interested in that sort of thing, there is always the book One People, Two Worlds.)

I think it would be wonderful if we in the Orthodox world would borrow this same idea and, whether done through a blog or some other medium, have representitives of different POV presenting and discussing their opinions. Of course, there are some hurdles. This idea would require some moderator to choose respondants capable of addressing the issues and not stack the desk with a world-class expert on one side and some yokel on the other. The second problem is that some will oppose such a forum on the grounds that responding to the other side itself is a concession -- it grants the other side legitimacy as a bar plugta that demands or is worthy of response. (Ironically, whether this argument amounts to nothing more than political posturing or has merit on principle in an issue itself worth discussing.) Thirdly, and it pains me to write this, I find that especially on the right there is a lack of ability to communicate ideas effectively in a way that speaks to the concerns of others. One of the sacrifices made in avoiding a liberal arts education is the ability to write a decent essay. So there are obstacles, and these obstacles would likely prove difficult for the major organizations to overlook, but that is no reason for others to not want to participate. My personal opinion is that organizations like Agudah would be better served by inviting those outside their community (e.g. the bloggers that serve as their current whipping horse) to their convention just as YU would be better served by inviting outside right-wing Roshei Yeshiva an opportunity to weigh in on debates central to modern orthodoxy. Much of what passes for "debate" by major organizations is really analysis of various narrow shades of the same argument bouncing around an echo chamber instead of real discussion.

So much for my pipe dream...

moral order and natural order: the condition for the Yam to split

The Midrash comments that Hashem created Yam Suf on condition that it would split when called upon to do so by the Jewish people. Why was this condition necessary? G-d controls nature and could easily have forced the Yam to split even if this behavior was not built into its nature from creation.

G-d created the world with both a moral order and a natural order. I heard in the name of R' Chait (of Yeshiva Bnei Torah in Far Rockaway) that yesh lachkor whether these are two seperate "agendas" (if you will) or not, i.e. does the natural order function in harmony and concert with Hashem's plan for moral order in the world, or is moral order imposed on creation from without, and nature is at best a passive canvas? It seems to me (I did not hear this point b'shem R' Chait) that this Midrash speaks directly to this point. The splitting of the sea did not place the moral order in conflict with the natural order of the sea and force one to bend before the other, but rather nature was created with moral order woven into its fabric so that these forces never come in conflict.

With this in mind we can better understand the strange reaction of Hashem to Moshe's tefilos. Moshe faced the sea before him and the Egyptians in hot pursuit and so he began to daven. Hashem ordered Moshe, “Mah titzak alei, debeir el Bnei Yisrael v’yisau”, to cease tefilah. Why? Isn't tefilah our instinctive and appropriate response to danger? The answer is that tefilah by its very definition is a cry that emerges from our perception of a disconnect, a chasm that lies between what we see in the natural world and our expectations and dreams based on the moral order of things. We ask Hashem to interfere and dispel sickness, death, tragedy, all the calamties of the natural world, in response to moral zechuyos. The splitting of Yam Suf as per the condition of its creation was a purposeful statement that despite our faulty perception, there is no real disconnect between the moral world and the natural world (see the Shiurei Da'as of R' Bloch on Shirah and see my article "Split the Difference" on the Kallah Magazine website for more on this idea.)

lo te'hey shemiya gedolah m're'iya and kiddush hachodesh

Last week we touched on the concept of lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’reiya (Rosh HaShana 25b). If beis din sees the new moon, they can declare rosh chodesh without witnesses coming forward – hearing about an event from a witness cannot be greater proof than personal observation. Yesh lachkor: does this mean that observation substitutes for testimony, i.e. it is as if those dayanim who saw the new moon have testified, or does this mean that when the moon is directly observed by dayanim no testimony is needed? Rashi seems to take the latter view, as he writes that lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’reiya works because witnesses are not required for beis din to declare rosh chodesh -- Hashem told Moshe to declare Rosh Chodesh based on his personal observation, ka'zeh re'eh v'kadesh, without witnesses. The implication of Rashi is that if we were dealing with an area of halacha that required proof in the form of witnesses, lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’reiya would not apply. Tosfos disagrees, as we find the concept of lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’reiya applied even where beis din sees someone commit murder. How can Rashi cite the special din of ka’zeh re’eh v’kadesh told to Moshe in the context of Kiddush hachodesh as the source for lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’reiya when the concept appears in other places as well?

The process of kiddush hachodesh as described in the Torah involves beis din declaring rosh chodesh based on witnesses’ testimony or beis din’s own observation of the new moon’s appearance. Our present calendar, however, is based on calculations of when the moon will appear -- we have no beis din which declares rosh chodesh and no witnesses coming forward to testify. What gives our calendar validity? Ramban in his comments to Sefer haMitzvos (153) explains that when Hillel II formalized the cheshbon/calculations that would predict all future roshei chodesh, his beis din in effect did a kiddush hachodesh for all those future events. Rambam disagrees and writes that it is the observance of rosh chodesh by the Jewish community, meaning the community in Eretz Yisrael (an important aside: the Rambam tells us that there will always be a remnant of the Jewish people in Eretz Yisrael), which effectively makes it rosh chodesh. According to the Rambam, if rosh chodesh is a function of observance by the people, what are we to make of all the halachos describing beis din’s role in vetting witnesses and declaring rosh chodesh?

R’ Soloveitchik in an essay in Koveitz Ch. Torah distinguished between two roles of beis din. We are familiar with the role of beis din acting as a judicial body, but beis din also serves a secondary role as the representatives of klal yisrael. Where halachos call for a consensus of the people, this consensus is not measured by popular vote, but is reflected in the action of beis din (sanhedin in particular). The halachos of rosh chodesh that speak of a declaration by beis din in concert with the nasi being present reflects this role. Rosh chodesh is established by the people; beis din is simply their representative.

Based on this analysis of the Rambam, I think we can perhaps suggest an explanation of why Rashi cites a pasuk to justify lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’reiya in the context of kiddush hachodesh. True, lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’reiya applies in other contexts, even in capital cases, but in those other areas the substitution of beis din’s own observation for witnesses’ testimony is part and parcel of the judicial process of establishing the facts of the case and deciding on a verdict. Rashi felt compelled to cite a pasuk to justify lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’reiya, allowing private observation in place of public testimony, even in the context of kiddush hachodesh, where beis din serves not as judges, but as representatives.
(See Moadim u'Zmanim vol 1 for a different explanation of Rashi).

the size of the moon for kiddush hachodesh

Rashi explains that Hashem showed Moshe an image of exactly how the moon should appear -- "hachodesh hazeh" -- to declare Rosh Chodesh. The Brisker Rav (stencil al haTorah) questions why Moshe needed a visual image of the moon to understand this halacha, as there is no shiur to the size of the new moon's appearance required to declare Rosh Chodesh.

If last week's post on Yerushalmi didn't whet your appetite for it enough, let me try to add some fuel to the fire. The Mishna in Rosh HaShana tells us that Rabban Gamliel would show images of the moon to witnesses to test if they were telling the truth. The Yerushalmi (13a in the Vilna ed., perek 3 halacha 4) on that Mishna has the following line:

כמה היה רחב כשעורה ויותר מכשעורה

The Pnei Moshe comments that the gemara is explaining Rabban Gamliel's test. Rabban Gamliel would ask the witnesses whether the width of the moon visible to them matched the image he showed them, whether it was the same shiur, or whether it was wider, in which case he knew they were lying.

The first thing that should grab your attention is simple spelling. The word "shiur" in Aramaic is שיעורא , the word that appears in the text of the Yerushalmi is שעורה . Maybe you can chalk that up to textual corruption and girsa, which is always problematic in the Yerushalmi, but there are logical problems with this pshat as well. The nature of Rabban Gamliel's test is a bit puzzling -- why was he concerned about the width of the moon more than its elevation or any other feature? And what does this gemara add to the Mishna, which already tells us that Rabban Gamliel had the witnesses compare their observations with images?

The Tziyun Yerushalayim therefore learns a different pshat here. The text means what it says -- שעורה is a piece of barley. The gemara is telling us information not found in the Mishna: even a sliver of a moon that appears no wider than a piece of barely is sufficient to declare kiddush hachodesh.

Now we can answer the question of the Brisker Rav: Moshe had to be shown the moon because there is a shiur for kiddush hachodesh! -- the moon must be at least the width of a barley grain.

I admit I did not remember this Yerushalmi off the top of my head before seeing it quoted, but I also know I would have ignored the mareh makom completely had I not been at least partially tuned into the idea that the Yerushalmi is understandable and not a resource to be overlooked. I wonder how the Brisker Rav learned this Yerushalmi, or did it just not enter the equation because the Rambam does not quote it.

geulah because of merit or because of Hashem's promise?

Rashi (12:6) explains that G-d ordered the Jewish people to take the korban Pesach four days before its shechita so they would have a mitzvah to engage in and garner merit to earn geulah. (The Netziv notes that in this case the preparation for the mitzvah, the hechsher mitzvah, is itself counted as a mitzvah). “The time to fulfill the promise I made to Avraham has arrived,” declared G-d, and therefore the Jewish people must do something to earn the promised redemption.

Rav Shteinman asks: since redemption was promised by G-d, whether the Jewish people earned it or not, redemption was inevitable. Why was this act of mitzvah performance to accrue merit necessary?

He answers that there are levels of geulah. Perhaps without the merit of mitzvos fewer people would have deserved redemption, or perhaps the geulah would not have included the experience of Yam Suf. Now that the Jewish people proved their obedience, they deserved a greater geulah.

I think it’s worth noting that R’ Shteinman’s question is almost the flipside of R’ Yerucham’s question (which we discussed last year) of why a promise of geulah was necessary -- Hashem could simply deliver geulah whenever we deserve it (or some other cheshbon) without advanced promises or notice. Perhaps the different questions indicate different perspectives: do we place our emphasis on G-d’s promise as the driving force for geulah and our merit is just added icing on the cake, or is geulah a result of our merit, and G-d’s promise is the added icing that requires explanation?

Perhaps one can answer R’ Shteinman’s question simply by saying that redemption was bound to occur, but a geulah which is “nahama d’kisufa” is far less meaningful than a geulah which one feels one has earned.

These overlapping reasons for redemption, the promise to Avraham and the merit of mitzvos, may also relate to two different aspects of gaulus. The Shem m’Shmuel (in one of the latter parshiyos in Braishis; sorry, I forgot where exactly) points out that there seems to be more than one explanation for galus Mitzrayim. On the one hand, Avraham was told that his children will be strangers in a foreign land for four hundred years. On the other hand, Chazal tell us that it was the conflict between Yosef and his brothers that caused the descent into galus. Which one was it?

The Shem m’Shmuel answers that there are two aspects to galus: there is the physical exile into a strange land, living at times under harsh rule and persecution, and then there is the spiritual element of galus, the loss of our ability to study torah and perform mitzvos properly. Avraham was told his children would suffer physical dispersal from the land, but it was the conflict between Yosef and his brothers that tore apart the achdus that is the foundation from which the spirituality of am Yisrael springs.

Hashem told Moshe, “Daber na b’oznei ha’am v’yishalu ish m’eis rey’eyhu v’isha m’eis re’usa klei kesef…” (11:2) It seems odd that the pasuk should call our Egyptian oppressors “rey’eyhu”, and tell us to speak to them so politely, saying “na”/please. The GR”A explains that the pasuk is not speaking about Egyptians, but about the Jewish people. Each person was told to go to his/her neighbor and ask to please borrow some item. At this crucial moment before geulah, all of Klal Yisrael would be engaged in performing an act of chessed, lending some item to his or her fellow Jew! (Might it be that the lending of garments by one girl to another described in the Mishna at the end of Ta'anis was the merit which caused so many shidduchim to occur on Tu b'Av?) By performing chessed one merits chessed in return, and the next pasuk continues that because of their chessed to each other the Jewish people would merit finding “chein” in the eyes of the Egyptians who would give them their wealth.

I would go a step further. It is not only the wealth of Egypt which was earned through this act of chessed, but it was an element of geulah itself. The physical release from Egypt was going to happen no matter what, but the release from spiritual captivity, the rebuilding of the spiritual foundations of our nation, was in our hands. The small act of chessed every Jew performed for his neighbor was the undoing of the animosity between Yosef and his brothers than landed us in spiritual exile.

To return to Rav Shteinman’s question, undoubtedly Hashem would fulfill his promise to release us physically from Egypt no matter what. But release from physical bondage while remaining in spiritual captivity is an incomplete geulah. It was through mitzvos, especially the mitzvah of korban Pesach which was shared among multiple families, eaten together at one table under one roof, that we earned our spiritual redemption.

One final thought: the power of little things! The neighbors borrowing from each other didn't really have a need, but were simply following Moshe's instructions to ask so as to create an opportunity for chessed. Yet, this small act of chessed transformed the Jewish people from humiliated slaves into people who found chein in the eyes of the Egyptians. It doesn't require running to Haiti on Shabbos to generate chein b'einei hagoyim -- we all have the opportunity to do so right at home, by applying ourselves to even small acts of chessed that can be done on a daily basis. These little acts of chessed can combine to create a tidal wave of chessed that will in turn release chasdei Hashem upon us all.

a child's impressions

From "Witness" by Whittaker Chambers, pp. 116-117:

…In summer, my mother was a great pie maker and she had a way of holding up a pie on the fingertips of one hand while she trimmed the loose edges of crust with the other. She was doing this one day, when, in some rambling child’s conversation, I said something about “when G-d made the world.” I think I was trying it out on her. If so, the result was much better than I could have expected.

She froze with the pie in one hand and the trimming knife suspended in the other. “Somebody told you that,” she said with a severity she seldom used to me. “You picked that up somewhere. You must learn to think for yourself. You must keep an open mind and not accept other people’s opinions. The world as formed by gasses cooling in space.”

I thought about this many times. But it was not the gaseous theory of creation that impressed me, though I did not reject it. What impressed me was this it was an opinion, too, since other people believed something else. Then why had my mother told me what to think? Clearly, if the open mind was open (as I would say to myself later on, still turning over this conversation in my mind years afterwards), truth was simply a question of which opening you preferred. In effect, the open mind was always closed at one end.

The other experience also occurred in my early childhood…I stood up, on the other side, in a field covered from end to end, as high as my head, with thistles in full bloom. Clinging to the purple flowers, hovering over them, or twittering and dipping in flight, were dozens of goldfinches – little golden yellow birds with black, contrasting wings and caps. They did not pay the slightest attention to me, as if they had never seen a boy before.

The sight was so unexpected, the beauty so absolute, that I thought I could not stand it and held to the hedge for support. Out loud I said, “G-d.” It was a simple statement, not an exclamation, of which I would then have been incapable. At that moment, which I remembered through all the years of my life as one of its highest moments, I was closer than I would be again for almost forty years to the intuition that alone could give meaning to my life – the intuition that G-d and beauty are one.

lo te'hey shemiya gedolah m'reiya

The Mishna (R”H 25) tells us that beis din which sees the new moon is allowed to declare Rosh Chodesh without witnesses testifying before them. “Lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’re’iya” – hearing testimony cannot be greater proof than seeing the event itself.

Yesh lachkor: does this mean that beis din’s first hand observation is itself a substitute for eidus, a form of eidus without the formal process of testimony, or does this mean that where beis din is a first hand observer no testimony is necessary?

The Rambam holds that a single expert mumche judge is allowed to decide cases (i.e. a beis din of three is not required), yet he also holds (Sanhedrin 5:18) that an admission, a hoda’ah, in front of such a judge is not binding. The Tur disagrees. The Rambam is problematic: if a single judge is authorized to decide cases, why can he not pasken based on a hoda’ah made in his presence?

Rav Amiel (Darkei Moshe 1:1) suggests that the single judge in this case is both the witness to the hoda’ah as well as the judge empowered to decide the case, no different than the idea of lo tehey shemia hedolah m’reiya when three judges witness the sight of the new moon and act as the court declaring rosh chodesh.

The machlokes between Rambam and Tur hinges on our chakirah. The Rambam holds lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’re’iya is a form of eidus. Testimony requires two witnesses, not one, and therefore a single judge cannot rule based on what he sees. The Tur, however, understands lo te’hey shemiya gedolah m’re’iya to mean that no testimony is needed. Therefore, even the single judge may rule based on a hoda’ah done in his presence.

Yet some more explanation is needed. True, eidus requires the presence of two witnesses, but monetary cases can be decided based on all manner of proof, including umdena, what seems reasonable. Even if the hoda’ah in front of a single judge cannot serve as eidus, why can it not serve as at least the equal of an umdena so that he can decide the case? Rav Amiel answers this question in his Midos l’Cheker HaHalacha (11:27) based on a chiddush of the Ch. haRI”M, but bl”n I want to share with you an idea of R’ Shimon Shkop in a future post.

torah sheba'al peh before matan Torah?

Thinking about the question of whether there was a mitzvah for Pharoah to listen to Moshe triggered my wondering about a somewhat related question. Rashi cites derasha after derasha in explaining the halachos of korban pesach defined by the pesukim in our parsha, Shmos ch. 12. The Netziv takes note of the Torah’s language in emphasizing (12:28) that Bnei Yisrael did “ka’asher tzivah Hashem es Moshe” – the term “tzivah” as opposed to “ka’asher diber” is inclusive of Rabbinic explication in addition to the words G-d spoke. Yet, if the basis for Rabbinic authority is the mitzvah of “lo tasur” (as the Rambam writes), there seems to be no compelling reason for Bnei Yisrael to have accepted Moshe’s interpretation and derush of these pesukim, as the mitzvah of “lo tasur” was yet to be given. Why then did they listen?

We already discussed a similar question in the past. The gemara (Shabbos 87) tells us that as a result of Moshe’s interpretation of Hashem’s command, he added an extra day into the calculation of when the Torah would be given. R’ Elchanan asks: Granted that this interpretation was done through Moshe’s use of the 13 midos of torah sheba’al peh, but what authority or basis did those midos have prior to the commandment of “lo tasur’ being given? I don’t understand – why is R’ Elchanan bothered by this gemara and not bothered by the derashos galore on our parsha? I think I must be missing something but can’t figure out what.

rescue efforts even on Shabbos

My BIL posted an article from the Jewish Post describing the relief efforts of Israeli doctors and other personnel in Haiti. The article mentions that, “Among the staff are Orthodox Jews who went to Haiti even though it was Shabbat. Reiss said they avoided performing unnecessarily tasks like shaving, but did everything needed to save lives.”

This makes for wonderful public relations, but I have no doubt that these individuals did not go to Haiti with the intent of scoring a public relations coup – they went because a Jew cannot help but react with compassion when he/she sees a fellow human being in distress. It is our instinctive nature to be rachmanim and gomlei chassadim, to act selflessly to help others.

This response resonates with our emotional and moral sensibilities, and yet I wonder if it is the correct response. Once a situation of ones has arisen all issurim are suspended. However, the Ba’al haMaor writes that a person cannot place him/herself in a situation of inevitable ones by choice. A person may not embark on a ship immediately before Shabbos because he/she will have to violate Shabbos if anything goes wrong onboard –once the ones is there one can do what is necessary to save the ship, Shabbos notwithstanding, but one may not intentionally enter into that situation by choosing to embark before Shabbos instead of at some other time.

Given the choice of volunteering to be among the first rescuers and doing melacha d’oraysa (which it would be very hard to avoid given the situation) for the sake of an aku”m (which there does not seem to be any clear cut heter for) on Shabbos or keeping Shabbos and waiting until the next day to mobilize the relief efforts, is the choice to render aid even on Shabbos so clear cut? Again, instinctively one feels that expedience is paramount when it comes to questions of human life, and I don’t think this instinctive reaction is due to a lack of appreciation of Shabbos on our part. Perhaps it is even correct to follow that instinctive reaction to save life and worry about sorting out technical legal details later. Perhaps it is not proper to raise even after the fact the sort of question I am posing when human life hangs in the balance. Is it? If it is, if we should concern ourself with the technical halachic issue either before or after the fact, how do we halachically justify the response? And finally, if in hindsight we conclude that technically one should not volunteer in cases like this, how do we square that with our moral instinct?

It goes without saying that this theoretical discussion is only with respect to the question of Shabbos, but certainly our compassion extends to those in Haiti desperately in need of the bracha of tov Hashem la'kol v'rachamav al kol ma'asav.

why Pharoh should have listened to Moshe

In the previous post I mentioned R' Shteinman's question as to why Pharoah should have been obligated to listen to Moshe -- the commandment to listen to a Navi is among the 613 mitzvos we are bound by, but not one of the 7 mitzvos bnei noach. R' Shteinman suggested that since it was obvious that Moshe was acting as the messenger of Hashem, Pharoah should have listened. In other words, as a comment put it, this is an extension of the basic mitzvah of emunah.

It occurred to me that one could answer the question based on an idea R' Elchanan elaborates on in Kuntres Divrei Sofrim which we discussed a few times in the past (see here). R' Elchanan suggested that the ratzon Hashem is its own mechayeiv -- that is, knowing what G-d wants, even if one is not explicitly commanded to act on that knowledge, demands a response. Bilam was punished for following the messenger's of Balak because he knew that G-d did not want him to curse the Jewish people, regardless of whether there was a formal command for him to desist from going. The Ramban maintains that we are bound to follow dinim derabbanan not because (as the Rambam writes) there is a command of "lo tasur", but simply because a din derabbanan is an expression of G-d's will. Here too in our case, it is not because a formal mitzvah to listen to a navi which obligated Pharoah to obey Moshe, but rather because Pharoah should have understood that Moshe's direction was the ratzon Hashem.

some thoughts of R' Shteinman on Parshas Va'Eira

A few quick thoughts on the parsha:

1) Rashi interprets the pesukim at the beginning of the parsha as an admonishment to Moshe for complaining about the suffering of Bnei Yisrael. Hashem contrasts Moshe with the Avos, none of whom bemoaned their suffering, e.g. Avraham did not complain at having to pay top dollar for Me’aras haMachpeilah. Rav Shteinman in his Ayeles haShachar questions this comparison – surely the added affliction of the Jewish people is far more disturbing than extra cost for a piece of property! He does not offer an answer.

2) Rashi (7:3) indicates that the punishment of the Egyptians was supposed to ellicit a response of tshuvah from Bnei Yisrael. Obviously the Egyptians deserved punishment for their wrongdoing irrespective of whether Bnei Yisrael learned any lesson from their fate -- Bnei Yisrael being moved to tshuvah is a consequence, not a reason for the Egyptians’ suffering.

R’ Shteinman quotes R’ Simcha Zisel of Kelm as explaining that the descendents of Haman merited to learn Torah in Bnei Brak because Haman served as the instrument which led BN”Y to tshuvah. R’ Shteinman questions this idea. Can a rasha accrue merit for a wicked deed just because some unintended good emerges as a consequence? Does it make sense to say that Nimrod deserves credit for tossing Avraham into the kivshan because as a result Avraham’s fame spread far and wide?

3) On the topic of the hardening of Pharoah’s heart, R’ Shteinman notes that at first glance the ability of Pharaoh to resist is a great chilul Hashem. Pharoah undoubtedly thought he was going to come out the winner in this contest against Moshe and G-d and rallied his people around that idea. It’s only in retrospect, after all the makkos are over, that we appreciate that Pharoah was only being given those kochos of resistance to setup a bigger knockout punch at the end. “Kol po’al Hashem l’ma’anei’hu” means that all that occurs, even that which superficially appears to be a chilul Hashem, in the end fits into the larger plan of kiddush Hashem.

4) Pharoah is chastised for not listening to Moshe, “V’hinei lo shamata ad koh” (7:16). Obedience to a Navi's message is one of the 613 mitzvos, not one of the 7 mitzvos bnei Noach, so why should Pharoah have listened? R’ Shteinman explains that the truth of Moshe’s shlichus was a matter of inescapable and irrefutable logic; Pharoah should have obeyed because Moshe was obviously an agent of Hashem. "Nikarim divrei emes" is a mechayeiv in this context.

R’ Shteinman’s question made me think of Bilam, prophet to the nations of the world. There clearly is a chalos of nevuah, a position and status of navi, that exists globally, yet I am not sure what meaning such a position would have if there is no mitzvah on a ben Noach to listen to the navi.

latest issue of Kallah Magazine

My wife just received from the printer her latest issue of Kallah Magazine and is now in the process of distributing in in the usual places. Look for it in the 5 Towns, parts of Brooklyn (Flatbush should get it today), Baltimore, Queens (prob. next week), etc. My two cents are in there in an article about Tu B'Shevat.

ta'amah ki tov sachara

Daughter #2 actually wanted to give a dvar torah at our little siyum (as opposed to myself and my son who do not look forward to speaking publicly even in front of extended family), so since she is dabbling in learning Mishlei in addition to her schoolwork she spoke about the pasuk of “ta’amah ki tov sachara lo yichbeh balayla neirah.” Meforshim read eishes chayil as a mashal for Torah, and explain this pasuk to mean that when the eishes chayil sees that business is good = when you recognize the beauty of Torah, you burn the midnight oil to try to accomplish more.

My daughter explained the pasuk (OK, she had a little help) as applicable to a siyum. Where does a person get the energy to keep learning day in and day out as part of a daf yomi or some other cycle? The gemara (Shabbos 118) tells us that Abayei would make a Yom Tov when a masechta was completed by the talmidim. In that light perhaps the pasuk can perhaps be read as follows: “Ta’ama ki tov sachara” – when a person has experiences the tov = the Yom tov celebrating the making of a siyum, then “lo yichbeh ba’layla neira,” then he/she is inspired to continue from one project to the next. Indeed, so many people got chizuk and were inspired to start their own sedorim from events like the siyum hashas of daf yomi that it makes one think that if only MSG was reserved for siyumim on Mishnayos, halacha, Nach, Yerushalmi, etc. how much more would be accomplished : )

toras eretz yisrael vs. toras galus

There is an amazing Zohar on Parshas Shmos which darshens as follows:

Vayemareru es chayeihem b’avodah kasha
B’chomer – zu kal v’chomer
U’belveinim – zu libun halacha
U’b’chol avodas ha’sadeh – zu braysa.

R’ Nevenzal in his sichos on the parsha asks the obvious question: were the Egyptians throwing difficult gemaras and Rambam’s at the Jewish people? Is this the meaning of galus Mitzrayim?

In making the siyum on Yerushalmi I discussed some of the differences between the Bavli and Yerushalmi: 1) Differences in language: the Bavli refers to the language of the Yerushalmi as “lishna kelila” (B”K 6); 2) Corruption of the text: Rashba attributes the lack of study of Yerushalmi to the corrupt girsa and nusach; 3) Most importantly, there are differences in logic and methodology. The gemara (Sanhedrin 22) darshens “B’machshakim hoshivani” to refer to the Bavli; the gemara refers to the style of learning is Bavel as “makas chovlim” as opposed to the peaceful ways of the Yerushalmi. Many sugyos in the Yerushalmi leave off with unresolved questions; the gemara sometimes lets an Amora get off without explaining how his chidush fits with a Mishna or Braysa -- there is not the same sense of intellectual warfare in the Yerushalmi as there is in the Bavli. My brother-in-law commented in the same vein that we see the “darchei noam” of the Yerushalmi in one of the last halachos in the Yerushalmi, the case of a corpse which is rotten yet is still metamei (on a d’oraysa level!) because, explains the Yerushalmi, of kavod ha’adam. The entirety of the three Bava’s in Yerushalmi is barely equal in quantity of material to perek Chezkas haBatim in Baba Basra. The Bavli is concerned with sevara, intellectual debate and development of the halacha, while the Yerushalmi is far more concerned with derashos and mesorah, kabbalah of Torah in the sense of received knowledge. In contrast to Nezikin, Masechet Nazir with all its complex derashos and halachos that are not "sichli" is even longer in the Yerushalmi than it is in the Bavli.

Rav Kook in his Orot haTorah writes that the Yerushalmi is related more in its methodology to toras hanistar than the Bavli; he sees its roots in tefilah, direct engagement with G-d, rather than intellectual speculation. The Yerushalmi could develop only in Eretz Yisrael where the soil is blessed with the possibility of ruach ha’kodesh and nevuah. The Bavli, writes Rav Kook, is “torah hamishtameres”, which keeps us hanging in there in galus, but the Yerushalmi is “torah hamisbareches”.

Perhaps it is this distinction between the derech of learning unique to Eretz Yisrael and the derech of learning which developed as a result of our galus which the Zohar is trying to convey. The shakla v’terya, the layer upon layer of hava amina and maskana, the intellectual battles (and it’s interesting that the Zohar mentions kal v’chomer specifically, as this is the only one of the 13 midos that can be darshened based on logic alone without a mesorah) of the Bavli are all a result of the ohr of Torah being masked because of galus. Of course shibud Mitzrayim was all about physical hard work, but part of galus is also this intellectual shift, the demand for mental ameilus of a different kind to simply understand Torah.

The gemara relates that R’ Zeira fasted 100 fasts to forget what he learned in Bavel when he made aliya. (My son pointed out R' Zeira is highlighted in the last sugya in Horiyos as the exemplar of exceptional ability to be maksheh u'mefareik, so his transformation from a Bavli-Amora to a Yerushalmi thinker must have been a dramatic change.) The Talmud Yerushalmi is not simply another layer of learning, like starting to learn Tosfos on top of Rashi, or the Ran or Rashba in addition to Tosfos, otherwise why struggle to forget everything else? Talmud Yerushalmi in its ideal sense demands a different mindset, one that is fundamentally at odds with the galus-mentality thinking in learning that we are so familiar with.

v'Zhav ha’aretz ha’hi tov – zu toras Eretz Yisrael. Tzion b’misphat tipadeh = Talmud Yerushalmi in gematriya. The renewal of interest in the study of Yerushalmi, the Talmud of Eretz Yisrael, is a harbinger of geulah, as our intellectual kelim shift gears to once again absorb “torah hamisbareches” in a manner and form that can only be appreciated in Eretz Yisrael.

My brother-in-law noted that the first letter of the gemara and last letter in Yerushalmi (aleph and daled) spell aid – v’aid ya’aleh min ha’aretz. We know that Eretz Yisrael is blessed first with the rains that then nourish the entire world, and so too, the bracha in learning comes first through Yerushalmi, the first layer of explication ever done on Mishnayos.

Nu, so today is the start of a new cycle, Brachos daf aleph (first thing to forget from the Bavli: all those vortlach you’ve heard about why the Talmud begins with daf beis) – dig in!