1. When daughter #2 was preparing for seminary interviews last year (she is thank G-d learning in Israel this year) it was well known that a certain seminary liked to ask applicants the following question: if you could be a tree, what type of tree would you be? I think questions like this are inane, but to play along I recommended that she answer the “eitz hada’as.” My daughter did not have the gumption (i.e. chutzpa) to give that answer, and instead replied that she would choose any type of tree that grows. (The interviewer still pressed her to pick a specific type of tree, which just reinforced my bad impression of the whole exercise. Inane.)
2. The Shiurei Da’as has a chakirah (that we’ve discussed before) as to whether good and bad are inherent in nature and G-d is like a doctor who reveals what will lead to optimal health, or whether good and bad are functions of G-d’s will, and it is only his decree as king that makes it so. (The question long predates the Shiurei Da’as, but R’ Bloch applies it nicely to explain a number of difficult Chazals.) At the end of the day, it’s a combination and overlap of both. The Shem m’Shmuel (Rosh haShana 5673) doesn’t formulate the chakirah so sharply, but he uses the idea to explain the root of Adam and Chavah’s sin. He suggests that Chavah’s declaration that the fruit of the eitz ha’da’as was “tov l’ma’achal” itself was wrong because it bifurcated the command not to eat the fruit from the quality of the thing itself. Chavah saw the tree as inherently good and desirable; it was off-limits s (in her view) only because of G-d’s seemingly arbitrary decree. She failed to see G-d’s decree as a revelation that the something was inherently wrong with the tree no matter what her own feelings told her. I would add that in the opening creation story of Braishis, it is G-d and G-d alone who decided and declared what is good: “Va’yar Elokim… ki tov.” Chavah’s independent assessment and assertion that something was “tov” marks a radical change in attitude even before the fruit has been ingested.
Yet perhaps the word “tov” here is in reality a red herring. R’ Ahron Lichtenstein distinguishes different uses of “tov” in his lecture "Being Frum and Being Good: On the Relationship Between Religion and Morality." He uses Chavah’s declaration that the tree was “tov l’ma’achal” as an example of good in the pragmatic sense, with no moral value attached. It’s like my saying it is “tov” for me to take my car to work instead of walking. In contrast, when we speak of issurim or mitzvos, we are speaking of a moral assessment of what is good vs. bad, right vs. wrong, not just pragmatics. If Chavah thought the fruit of the tree looked tasty and might have made a good snack were she hungry – no more than an aesthetic and/or pragmatic judgment call -- does that sense of it being “tov” really diminish or contradict her appreciation of the moral “lo tov” of G-d’s command not to eat it? Isn’t the Shem m’Shmuel conflating the two meanings of “tov?"
On the other hand, lulei d’mistafina I wonder whether R’ Ahron’s reading of Chavah’s words is correct. If Chavah truly believed the nachash‘s assertion that the eitz ha’da’as was the key to being like G-d, then might not her declaration that the tree was “tov l’ma’achal” in fact be a value statement? Perhaps she not only thought it might be tasty, but thought the pursuit of knowledge was a moral obligation (see this Meshech Chochmah).
3. Immediately after Adam’s cheit, the Torah writes (3:8) that Adam heard Hashem, “mis'haleich ba’gan l’ruach hayom,” and he hid. Hashem then addressed Adam and ask why he was hiding. The Seforno comments (d”h “l’ruach hayom”) that Hashem was going about doing the things that needed to be done on that day, just like he had done on the other days of creation and the day before the cheit. Hashem did not come to visit the garden to confront Adam. It was only after Adam became aware of Hashem and hid that Hashem addressed him and reacted to what had been done.
Shem m’Shmuel explains that every punishment meted out by Hashem is an opportunity for rehabilitation. Hashem did not originally address Adam because Adam had not earned the right to be rehabilitated. It was only when Adam hid and showed an awareness that he had done wrong that Hashem addressed him and provide a punishment/tikun for his wrongdoing. The first step to getting out of the pit of wrongdoing is to avoid remaining indifferent to the fact that wrongdoing has occurred.
Monday, October 12, 2015
Thursday, October 08, 2015
absolute vs relative judgment
Before Yom Kippur our community had the privilege of hearing words of chizuk from R' Eli Mansour. The thesis of his talk (I found a similar shiur he gave posted here if you want to hear it) was that there are two types of judgment on the yom ha'din: 1) absolute, or objective judgment; 2) relative, or what he calls comparative judgment. Objective judgment means G-d pulls out the scorecard and weighs our merits vs. our demerits and gives us a grade. I don't know about you, but to me, that's a scary thought. Can any of us really be confident that we have more good deeds than bad on the books? Fortunately, there is another judgment -- comparative judgment. Instead of looking at how we are doing on an absolute scale, G-d looks at how we are doing relative to the society and environment we find ourselves in. The student who gets a 65 on a test on an absolute scale is barely passing, but if everyone else in the class got a 40, he looks like a genius. We live in such a sick, perverted society that when G-d looks at us, warts and all, we sparkle like diamonds compared with the rest of the world. Because of that, hopefully we merited a chasima tovah.
I was reminded of the shiur when I saw this Ohr haChaim on the murder of Hevel. Kayin offered the first korban, and taken by itself, that's certainly a positive. But when you compare his paltry korban with the offering of his brother Hevel, then not only is the import of his gift minimized and lessened, but it almost seems to be an affront to G-d. On Yom Kippur, relative judgment works in our favor. When it came to Kayin's korban, relative judgment -- the inescapable comparison to Hevel -- worked against him, at least in his mind. Kayin was consumed with jealousy. As a result, he killed his brother Hevel. Kayin had a simple cheshbon: better to commit one murder and suffer the consequences than to live with the constant risk of being judged as faulty and not-up-to snuff compared with others.
The Netziv takes note of the double-language, "Vayichar l'Kayin" and "vayipol panav." When G-d speaks to Kayin, again, we have the double-language of "Lamah charah lach" and "lamah naflu panecha." The Netziv suggests that Kayin was doubly troubled. He was troubled by his own failure to offer an acceptable korban, but more than that, he was troubled by the fact that Hevel had offered a better korban and had outshone him. In other words, Kayin felt disappointment in his own accomplishment when judged on an absolute scale, but he also felt the pain of falling short relative to his brother. I would say that failure perhaps hurt even more.
I'm afraid I'm going to part ways with the Netziv's reading of the next pesukim (see Ramban as well) and would like to suggest a different punch line to the story. In response to Kayin's anger and depression, Hashem tells him, "Ha'lo im tei'tiv se'eis v'im lo tei'tiv la'pesach chatas roveitz..." (4:5). Do good and you can overcome the yetzer ha'ra; do bad, and it will catch up with you. Didn't Kayin know that? Don't we all know that? Peshita, mai kah mashma lan? Maybe what Hashem was telling Kayin is that if *you* do good, then *you* will overcome the yetzer and be successful. Forget about Hevel and what he's doing -- focus on yourself, on the *you*, on what you need to improve on. It's not because of Hevel alone that your korban was rejected -- it's because you could and should have done better. This is the mirror image of Rabbi Mansour's message. Hashem is generous and will use comparative judgment when it's in our favor, and kinas sofrim tarbeh chochma as a motivation tool, but when a person is consumed with thinking about keeping up with the Joneses, even in spiritual matters, it can have debilitating effects and do more harm than good. Hashem was telling Kayin to focus only on the absolute scale, on what he felt he could and should accomplish relative to his own abilities, and forget about the rest. Score a 95 on the test and it doesn't matter what the other person got -- your good grade stands on it's own merits.
It's interesting that earlier in the week I was planning on posting something entirely different on Braishis and then I sat down by the computer and this just popped out onto the screen. Bl"n I have to get to the other topic...
I was reminded of the shiur when I saw this Ohr haChaim on the murder of Hevel. Kayin offered the first korban, and taken by itself, that's certainly a positive. But when you compare his paltry korban with the offering of his brother Hevel, then not only is the import of his gift minimized and lessened, but it almost seems to be an affront to G-d. On Yom Kippur, relative judgment works in our favor. When it came to Kayin's korban, relative judgment -- the inescapable comparison to Hevel -- worked against him, at least in his mind. Kayin was consumed with jealousy. As a result, he killed his brother Hevel. Kayin had a simple cheshbon: better to commit one murder and suffer the consequences than to live with the constant risk of being judged as faulty and not-up-to snuff compared with others.
The Netziv takes note of the double-language, "Vayichar l'Kayin" and "vayipol panav." When G-d speaks to Kayin, again, we have the double-language of "Lamah charah lach" and "lamah naflu panecha." The Netziv suggests that Kayin was doubly troubled. He was troubled by his own failure to offer an acceptable korban, but more than that, he was troubled by the fact that Hevel had offered a better korban and had outshone him. In other words, Kayin felt disappointment in his own accomplishment when judged on an absolute scale, but he also felt the pain of falling short relative to his brother. I would say that failure perhaps hurt even more.
I'm afraid I'm going to part ways with the Netziv's reading of the next pesukim (see Ramban as well) and would like to suggest a different punch line to the story. In response to Kayin's anger and depression, Hashem tells him, "Ha'lo im tei'tiv se'eis v'im lo tei'tiv la'pesach chatas roveitz..." (4:5). Do good and you can overcome the yetzer ha'ra; do bad, and it will catch up with you. Didn't Kayin know that? Don't we all know that? Peshita, mai kah mashma lan? Maybe what Hashem was telling Kayin is that if *you* do good, then *you* will overcome the yetzer and be successful. Forget about Hevel and what he's doing -- focus on yourself, on the *you*, on what you need to improve on. It's not because of Hevel alone that your korban was rejected -- it's because you could and should have done better. This is the mirror image of Rabbi Mansour's message. Hashem is generous and will use comparative judgment when it's in our favor, and kinas sofrim tarbeh chochma as a motivation tool, but when a person is consumed with thinking about keeping up with the Joneses, even in spiritual matters, it can have debilitating effects and do more harm than good. Hashem was telling Kayin to focus only on the absolute scale, on what he felt he could and should accomplish relative to his own abilities, and forget about the rest. Score a 95 on the test and it doesn't matter what the other person got -- your good grade stands on it's own merits.
It's interesting that earlier in the week I was planning on posting something entirely different on Braishis and then I sat down by the computer and this just popped out onto the screen. Bl"n I have to get to the other topic...
Saturday, October 03, 2015
Simchas Torah -- kiyum simcha of the tzibur vs kiyum of the yachid
Rama (O.C. 660) quotes that minhag Ashkenaz is that an aveil does not do the hakafos with his lulav during hosha'anos. Beis Yosef disagrees and wonders why an aveil should be exempt. After all, an aveil is obligated in all mitzvos, including simchas Yom Tov, which cancels aveilus, so why is hosha'anos any different? Achronim try their best to justify the minhag, but the answers are not (as the Taz and others already say) are not completely satisfying. The Bach suggests that the problem stems from the fact that an aveil cannot cut his hair, and the kohanim who did the hakafa of the mizbeiach that we are commemorating were not permitted to have long hair, peru'ei rosh. The problem is that the shiur of hair that is called too long is a growth of more than 30 days, and except for aveilus on parents, an aveil can take a haircut at the end of 30 days. Some see participating in hosha'anos as representing the tzibur, and just like an aveil cannot serve as the shat"z on days that tachanun is not recited, so too, he cannot participate here. The GR"A (quoted in M"B as well) says the exemption is based on the fact that the hakafos of the mizbeiach are a kiyum of "u'smachtem lifnei Hashem Elokeichem shivas yamim" and an aveil lacks the ability to be b'simcha (begging the question of how this is different than the mitzvah of simchas Y"T). In short: it's a difficult minhag to justify. (The Gesher haChaim paskens that an aveil can do hakafos after the tzibur as finished, and he quotes the Ya'avetz as allowing the aveil to participate on Hosha'ana Rabbah. I'm not sure how that would fit with the GR"A.)
Gesher haChaim (vol 2 ch 17) raises another fascinating question. The Kaf haChaim and others writes that although an aveil cannot participate in dancing on Simchas Torah, he is allowed to have a hakafa with the sefer Torah. If hakafos with the lulav, which are only a zeicher to the "u'smachtem" of the mikdash, are prohibited, how then are hakafos of Simchas Torah, which are part of the simchas ha'yom itself, permitted?! (Note that the Chelkas Ya'akov here prohibits participating in hakafos for this very reason.)
One theory the Gesher haChaim offers is that there is a fundamental difference between the kiyum simcha that happens in the mikdash, commemorated by hosha'anos, and other kiyumim of simcha. The simcha of the mikdash was a chovas hatzibur -- it was a communal celebration, a national rejoicing. Simchas Yom Tov celebrated by having a meal with family, Smchas Torah celebrated by dancing in shul, is a simcha of the yachid, the individual. We may come together as families to celebrate or as communities to celebrate, but the end goal in doing so is to enhance our personal kiyum of simcha. It does not transform the kiyum into a communal one. Therefore, the Rama prohibits only participating in hosha'anos but no other simcha as only hosha'anos contains a "zeicher l'mikdash" component that reminds us of this communal kiyum in the mikdash.
Even if one accepts the sevara as correct, perhaps there is room to argue. Abarbanel in Parshas VaYeilech writes that our celebration of Simchas Torah is based on the hakhel ceremony. Just like in hakhel the king would read Sefer Devarim before the assembled people, so too, on Simchas Torah we gather together and the leader of the community finishes the reading of Devarim (see Kli Chemdah in P' Zos haBracha who discusses the source for a talmid chacham being called for the final aliya without noting this Abarbanel and the parallel to melech. I am sure many Rabbis are wondering about the validity of the comparison between themselves and a melech : ) Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems to me that the hakhel ceremony, done in the makom mikdash, is a communal obligation. Everyone -- men, women, and even children -- must come and participate in hakhel. If that's what our celebration on Simchas Torah is modeled after, then the same logic that precludes an aveil from hosha'anos should apply here.
One final note: Many shuls hold a big kiddush or lunch on Simchas Torah and I was wondering if one can participate during aveilus. This post is pretty long already so I'll skip going through the shitos about whether and what simchos an aveils can/cannot participate in -- let's keep it simple: social occasions are out. I view most kiddushes as social occasions. However, it turns out that Simchas Torah lunch is an exception. Even those who hold that an aveil cannot participate in a siyum would allow an aveil to make a siyum himself -- in that case, the aveil is not a guest; he is the host. On Simchas Torah, each one of us is not a guest at the siyum haTorah -- each one of us is the host, the mesayeim. Each one of us is celebrating our personal completion of another round of learning.
And one last final, final note: I don't know how you balance "v'samachta b'chagecha" with being aware of and feeling the pain of those killed al Kiddush haShem in Eretz Yisrael. All I know is that we need lots of rachamei shamayim, lots of Torah, and we need lots of zechuyos.
Gesher haChaim (vol 2 ch 17) raises another fascinating question. The Kaf haChaim and others writes that although an aveil cannot participate in dancing on Simchas Torah, he is allowed to have a hakafa with the sefer Torah. If hakafos with the lulav, which are only a zeicher to the "u'smachtem" of the mikdash, are prohibited, how then are hakafos of Simchas Torah, which are part of the simchas ha'yom itself, permitted?! (Note that the Chelkas Ya'akov here prohibits participating in hakafos for this very reason.)
One theory the Gesher haChaim offers is that there is a fundamental difference between the kiyum simcha that happens in the mikdash, commemorated by hosha'anos, and other kiyumim of simcha. The simcha of the mikdash was a chovas hatzibur -- it was a communal celebration, a national rejoicing. Simchas Yom Tov celebrated by having a meal with family, Smchas Torah celebrated by dancing in shul, is a simcha of the yachid, the individual. We may come together as families to celebrate or as communities to celebrate, but the end goal in doing so is to enhance our personal kiyum of simcha. It does not transform the kiyum into a communal one. Therefore, the Rama prohibits only participating in hosha'anos but no other simcha as only hosha'anos contains a "zeicher l'mikdash" component that reminds us of this communal kiyum in the mikdash.
Even if one accepts the sevara as correct, perhaps there is room to argue. Abarbanel in Parshas VaYeilech writes that our celebration of Simchas Torah is based on the hakhel ceremony. Just like in hakhel the king would read Sefer Devarim before the assembled people, so too, on Simchas Torah we gather together and the leader of the community finishes the reading of Devarim (see Kli Chemdah in P' Zos haBracha who discusses the source for a talmid chacham being called for the final aliya without noting this Abarbanel and the parallel to melech. I am sure many Rabbis are wondering about the validity of the comparison between themselves and a melech : ) Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems to me that the hakhel ceremony, done in the makom mikdash, is a communal obligation. Everyone -- men, women, and even children -- must come and participate in hakhel. If that's what our celebration on Simchas Torah is modeled after, then the same logic that precludes an aveil from hosha'anos should apply here.
One final note: Many shuls hold a big kiddush or lunch on Simchas Torah and I was wondering if one can participate during aveilus. This post is pretty long already so I'll skip going through the shitos about whether and what simchos an aveils can/cannot participate in -- let's keep it simple: social occasions are out. I view most kiddushes as social occasions. However, it turns out that Simchas Torah lunch is an exception. Even those who hold that an aveil cannot participate in a siyum would allow an aveil to make a siyum himself -- in that case, the aveil is not a guest; he is the host. On Simchas Torah, each one of us is not a guest at the siyum haTorah -- each one of us is the host, the mesayeim. Each one of us is celebrating our personal completion of another round of learning.
And one last final, final note: I don't know how you balance "v'samachta b'chagecha" with being aware of and feeling the pain of those killed al Kiddush haShem in Eretz Yisrael. All I know is that we need lots of rachamei shamayim, lots of Torah, and we need lots of zechuyos.
Friday, October 02, 2015
V'osi yom yom yidroshun' -- zu tekiya v'aravah
The Mishna in R"H writes that unlike hallel which is said right after shacharis, tekiyas shofar is delayed until musaf. The gemara explains that this is a takanah from times when there was a danger of the enemy misinterpreting the gathering of Jews as a rebellion and shofar blast as a call to arms. Once shacharis passed and it was apparent that this was just a religious service, there was no danger anymore. If so, asks the Yerushalmi (perek 4 halacha 8), why was their not the same concern with respect to hallel, i.e. that the noise of the singing of hallel would be misinterpreted as an uprising? The gemara answers (compare with the Bavli) that not everyone is in shul that early (a makor for coming to shul late on Y"T : ) and a small minor gathering would not be misinterpreted as a rebellion. However, says the Yerushalmi, everyone is in shul for tekiyas shofar (amazing -- it's still true to this very day.) The Yerushalmi ends off with a derasha: "Amar Rav Yonah, ksiv 'V'osi yom yom yidroshun' -- zu tekiya v'aravah." Explains the Pnei Moshe, on the day of Rosh haShana by tekiyos and the day of Hoshana Rabbah by aravah everyone is in shul to daven together.
Why these two days in particular? Why are davka tekiyas shofar and the mitzvah of aravah times of 'V'osi yom yom yidroshun?'
Achronim explain that aside from being a kiyum of mitzvas shofar, the tekiyos which we blow during shmoneh esrei of Rosh HaShana are also a kiyum of tefilah. Sometimes a person cannot even get the words out to daven -- they can just sigh or cry and that's it. That's the tefilah of tekiyas shofar -- a tefilah without words. Rosh haShana is an opportunity for our prayers to be heard even if we can't articulate the words.
The four minim represent four types of Jews. The esrog which has a nice taste and nice smell represents the tzadik who as Torah and mitzvos under his belt. At the other extreme is the aravah, that has neither taste nor smell and is bereft of ruchniyus. What zechus does the aravah-Jew have to call upon his his tefilos? None. The shape of the aravah resembles closed lips, says the Sefas Emes. Yet on Hoshana Rabbah, even those closed lips that have no zechuyos to call on can have their prayers answered (see this post as well).
Rosh haShana starts the season of the y'mei ha'din; Hoshana Rabbah ends it. The bookends are days of tefilah, days when Hashem is there to listen, whether you can get the words or not, whether you come with zechuyos or come with empty hands and just beg to be heard.
Why these two days in particular? Why are davka tekiyas shofar and the mitzvah of aravah times of 'V'osi yom yom yidroshun?'
Achronim explain that aside from being a kiyum of mitzvas shofar, the tekiyos which we blow during shmoneh esrei of Rosh HaShana are also a kiyum of tefilah. Sometimes a person cannot even get the words out to daven -- they can just sigh or cry and that's it. That's the tefilah of tekiyas shofar -- a tefilah without words. Rosh haShana is an opportunity for our prayers to be heard even if we can't articulate the words.
The four minim represent four types of Jews. The esrog which has a nice taste and nice smell represents the tzadik who as Torah and mitzvos under his belt. At the other extreme is the aravah, that has neither taste nor smell and is bereft of ruchniyus. What zechus does the aravah-Jew have to call upon his his tefilos? None. The shape of the aravah resembles closed lips, says the Sefas Emes. Yet on Hoshana Rabbah, even those closed lips that have no zechuyos to call on can have their prayers answered (see this post as well).
Rosh haShana starts the season of the y'mei ha'din; Hoshana Rabbah ends it. The bookends are days of tefilah, days when Hashem is there to listen, whether you can get the words or not, whether you come with zechuyos or come with empty hands and just beg to be heard.
the dual nature of chag hasukkos
Chasam Sofer observes that in the leining for the first days of Y"T we have what sounds like two separate descriptions of Sukkos:
1) "Dabeir el Bnei Yisrael leimor bachamisha asar yom lachodesh ha'shevi'i ha'zeh chag hasukkot shivas yamim l'Hashem." (23:34)
2) "Ach b'chamisha asar lachodesh ha'shevi'i b'aspichem es tevu'as ha'aretz tachogu es chag Hashem shivas yamim, bayom harishon shabason u'bayom ha'shemini shabason." (23:39)
From 23:34-38 the Torah only discusses the korbanos of the chag and there is no mention of the eighth day. In the second section, 23:34-43, the mitzvos of lulav and sukkah are mentioned, and right in the introductory pasuk we are told that there is an extra day of "yom ha'shemini."
There is a dual identity to the chag of Sukkos. On the one hand, it marks the culmination of the y'mei hadin of Rosh haShana-Yom Kippur-Sukkos, ending in Hosha'na Rabbah. On the other hand,it is the final one of the shalosh regalim of Pesach, Shavuos, and Sukkos.
The y'mei ha'din are a spiritual cycle of time. The shalosh regalim are essentially part of the agricultural cycle of planting (Pesach), ripening (Shavuos), and harvesting (Sukkos).
In the first section, the Torah deals only with the chag's spiritual dimension: korbanos. There is no mention of it being the harvest season, unlike in the second section, which begins by mentioning that we celebrate "b'aspichem es tevu'as ha'aretz." There, in the second section, the Torah discusses taking the lulav, celebrating nature, which has once again delivered it's bounty. There we have the command to sit in sukkah to remind the farmer not to become spoiled and self-indulgent. And there we have an added "yom shemini" tacked on to bring the farmer back to a focus on the spiritual, to have one final day devoted to ruchniyus, as a culmination of the chag.
1) "Dabeir el Bnei Yisrael leimor bachamisha asar yom lachodesh ha'shevi'i ha'zeh chag hasukkot shivas yamim l'Hashem." (23:34)
2) "Ach b'chamisha asar lachodesh ha'shevi'i b'aspichem es tevu'as ha'aretz tachogu es chag Hashem shivas yamim, bayom harishon shabason u'bayom ha'shemini shabason." (23:39)
From 23:34-38 the Torah only discusses the korbanos of the chag and there is no mention of the eighth day. In the second section, 23:34-43, the mitzvos of lulav and sukkah are mentioned, and right in the introductory pasuk we are told that there is an extra day of "yom ha'shemini."
There is a dual identity to the chag of Sukkos. On the one hand, it marks the culmination of the y'mei hadin of Rosh haShana-Yom Kippur-Sukkos, ending in Hosha'na Rabbah. On the other hand,it is the final one of the shalosh regalim of Pesach, Shavuos, and Sukkos.
The y'mei ha'din are a spiritual cycle of time. The shalosh regalim are essentially part of the agricultural cycle of planting (Pesach), ripening (Shavuos), and harvesting (Sukkos).
In the first section, the Torah deals only with the chag's spiritual dimension: korbanos. There is no mention of it being the harvest season, unlike in the second section, which begins by mentioning that we celebrate "b'aspichem es tevu'as ha'aretz." There, in the second section, the Torah discusses taking the lulav, celebrating nature, which has once again delivered it's bounty. There we have the command to sit in sukkah to remind the farmer not to become spoiled and self-indulgent. And there we have an added "yom shemini" tacked on to bring the farmer back to a focus on the spiritual, to have one final day devoted to ruchniyus, as a culmination of the chag.
Sunday, September 27, 2015
talmud Torah as a kiyum of simchas Yom Tov
There is a machlokes Tanaim how to resolve the contradiction between the pesukim "atzeres l'Hashem" and "atzeres lachem" -- which one is it? R' Yehoshua holds that you have to make a compromise and split Yom Tov between G-d and your own enjoyment; R' Eliezer holds it's either/or -- you can spend the day immersed in Torah and avodas Hashem, or you can spend the day immersed in doing what you enjoy. This machlokes fits a general pattern of disputes in Chazal as to how to handle situations where there are contradictory pesukim or halachos and no "kasuv ha'shelishi" that resolves what to do: are you supposed to make some a compromise between the two extremes or choose between fulfilling one or the other. (The two pesukim in this case appear in two different contexts with respect to two different yamim tovim, but the gemara was not willing to entertain the possibility of reading each pasuk as applying only to its particular yom tov context as a feasible answer.)
Maharasha (Pesachim 68) asks: according to R' Eliezer, if one spends the entire day immersed in Torah, how can one fulfill the mitzvah of "v'samachta b'chagecha?"
He answers that learning gufa is simchas Yom Tov! What could be more enjoyable than a blatt gemara? (R' Tzadok haKohen writes that the "atezeres lachem" is fulfilled by the joy in learning; the "atzeres l'Hashem" should be how you approach eating your meal -- it should be l'shem shamayim.)
R' Zolti suggested based on this Maharasha that when one learns on Y"T, aside from the kiyum mitzvah of talmud Torah, one gets an additional kiyum of simchas Y"T. This may explain a difficult Rashi in Sukkah (25). The Mishna tells us that people who are engaged in doing a mitzvah are peturim from sukkah. Rashi gives as an example someone who is travelling to learn Torah. Achronim ask: the rule of oseik b'mitzvah patur min hamitzvah normally does not apply to talmud Torah -- we assume that you have to stop learning to do mitzvos. The raison d'etre of learning is to perform mitzvos, so it makes no sense to say that learning should supersede doing mitzvos. How then could Rashi say that someone going to learn is exempt from the mitzvah of sukkah?
Some of the Achronim answer that Rashi is not speaking about learning itself. but about travelling to learn, and the travel, the hechsher mitzvah of going to learn, is what creates the exemption (which itself is an interesting chiddush -- the hechsher mitzvah of a mitzvah which itself does not exempt one from sukkah can create an exemption). In the sefer "M'Shulchani shel R' Eliyahu Baruch" from the Mir he quotes from his son that based on R' Zolti's chiddush, Rashi makes perfect sense. When one is learning on Y"T, it is also a kiyum of simchah. It is not the mitzvah of talmud Torah which exempts one from sukkah, but rather it is the kiyum mitzvah of simchas Y"T inherent in that same act of learning which does so.
R' Eliyahu Baruch did not like this approach and argued that it's not the kiyum hagavra of learning that does not allow any an exemption from mitzvos, but rather the cheftza of Torah itself is overridden by any other mitzvah. Therefore, whether the kiyum mitzvah is one of simchas Y"T or purely one of talmud Torah does not matter in the end.
Maharasha (Pesachim 68) asks: according to R' Eliezer, if one spends the entire day immersed in Torah, how can one fulfill the mitzvah of "v'samachta b'chagecha?"
He answers that learning gufa is simchas Yom Tov! What could be more enjoyable than a blatt gemara? (R' Tzadok haKohen writes that the "atezeres lachem" is fulfilled by the joy in learning; the "atzeres l'Hashem" should be how you approach eating your meal -- it should be l'shem shamayim.)
R' Zolti suggested based on this Maharasha that when one learns on Y"T, aside from the kiyum mitzvah of talmud Torah, one gets an additional kiyum of simchas Y"T. This may explain a difficult Rashi in Sukkah (25). The Mishna tells us that people who are engaged in doing a mitzvah are peturim from sukkah. Rashi gives as an example someone who is travelling to learn Torah. Achronim ask: the rule of oseik b'mitzvah patur min hamitzvah normally does not apply to talmud Torah -- we assume that you have to stop learning to do mitzvos. The raison d'etre of learning is to perform mitzvos, so it makes no sense to say that learning should supersede doing mitzvos. How then could Rashi say that someone going to learn is exempt from the mitzvah of sukkah?
Some of the Achronim answer that Rashi is not speaking about learning itself. but about travelling to learn, and the travel, the hechsher mitzvah of going to learn, is what creates the exemption (which itself is an interesting chiddush -- the hechsher mitzvah of a mitzvah which itself does not exempt one from sukkah can create an exemption). In the sefer "M'Shulchani shel R' Eliyahu Baruch" from the Mir he quotes from his son that based on R' Zolti's chiddush, Rashi makes perfect sense. When one is learning on Y"T, it is also a kiyum of simchah. It is not the mitzvah of talmud Torah which exempts one from sukkah, but rather it is the kiyum mitzvah of simchas Y"T inherent in that same act of learning which does so.
R' Eliyahu Baruch did not like this approach and argued that it's not the kiyum hagavra of learning that does not allow any an exemption from mitzvos, but rather the cheftza of Torah itself is overridden by any other mitzvah. Therefore, whether the kiyum mitzvah is one of simchas Y"T or purely one of talmud Torah does not matter in the end.
Friday, September 25, 2015
the meaning of "naval"
The meforshim struggle to make sense of the expression "Vayinabel tzur yeshua'so." (32:15) The word "neveilah" is something you would normally associate with a physical thing. Here, the pasuk is referring to disrespecting G-d, so it has to be taken less literally, which is how Rashi and Seforno interpret it. Ibn Ezra sees a connotation of chilul Hashem. The Meshech Chochma writes that the pasuk is referring to scoffers who go around attributing ridiculous meanings and interpretations to Torah so that it becomes an object of ridicule in people's eyes -- they make G-d repulsive to others. What caught my eye is the Ramban, who reminds us that earlier in the perek (32:6) Bnei Yisrael themselves are referred to as an "am naval v'lo chacham." Ramban there writes that the term "naval" is the opposite of "nediv." A naval is someone who has received gifts or consideration, but repays it with animosity and disdain rather than a thank-you. A naval never shows appreciation. Our pasuk is stressing that G-d acted as "tzur yeshu'aso," your redeemer, and yet, "vayinabel," rather than give thanks, we turned our back on him.
I want to suggest another possible interpretation to this ambiguous phrase also based on the earlier pasuk. The Targum Onkelus explains the phrase "am naval" as "the nation who accepted the Torah." How do you get that from the word "naval?" The Peirush Yonasan on the T. Yonasan writes that the idea is that despite our receiving the Torah, we remained devoid of wisdom. If so, ikkar chaseir min haseifer, because the translation of "naval" is missing. The GR"A brilliantly connects the Targum to a Midrash (in B.R. 17) that refers to there being three "novlos": 1) sleep is the noveles of death; 2) a dream is noveles of prophecy; 3) Torah is noveles of Heavnely chochmah. The word "noveles" means an unripe date that falls off too early -- it's a taste of the real thing, but has not yet blossomed to fruition. "Am naval" means we are the nation that got that noveles, i.e. the Torah, which is the noveles of the ultimate chochmah, but then we did not take advantage of that wisdom. Turning to the our pasuk, although the Targum does not say it here, perhaps we could explains "vayinabel" to mean that we turned G-d's greatness into something unripe, something less than ideal, i.e. we minimized it's significance.
I want to suggest another possible interpretation to this ambiguous phrase also based on the earlier pasuk. The Targum Onkelus explains the phrase "am naval" as "the nation who accepted the Torah." How do you get that from the word "naval?" The Peirush Yonasan on the T. Yonasan writes that the idea is that despite our receiving the Torah, we remained devoid of wisdom. If so, ikkar chaseir min haseifer, because the translation of "naval" is missing. The GR"A brilliantly connects the Targum to a Midrash (in B.R. 17) that refers to there being three "novlos": 1) sleep is the noveles of death; 2) a dream is noveles of prophecy; 3) Torah is noveles of Heavnely chochmah. The word "noveles" means an unripe date that falls off too early -- it's a taste of the real thing, but has not yet blossomed to fruition. "Am naval" means we are the nation that got that noveles, i.e. the Torah, which is the noveles of the ultimate chochmah, but then we did not take advantage of that wisdom. Turning to the our pasuk, although the Targum does not say it here, perhaps we could explains "vayinabel" to mean that we turned G-d's greatness into something unripe, something less than ideal, i.e. we minimized it's significance.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
wives are not angels
1. The Rama (O.C. 610:4) writes that the minhag is to wear white on Y"K to appear like an angel, which is also why we wear a kittil. Additionally, the kittil is a reminder of shrouds, which reminds a person of death and causes a person to have humility and be contrite.
The MG"A comments on this Rama that the Midrash indicates that angels are male (my wife commented that an angel can't reproduce, so gender doesn't have much meaning up there. I assume the terms male/female in this context are meant in the sense of mashpia vs. mekabeil, or chomer vs tzurah, though I found that the Anaf Yosef on the Midrash Rabbah, Vayikra 31:5 asks this question and gives a different answer), and therefore women need not wear white. However, they may wear a kittil to remind them of death. Women, according to the MG"A, are not angels.
The M"B quotes the Mateh Ephraim who holds exactly the opposite. Women should also wear white, but the custom is for women to not wear a kittil. Interestingly, though, in O.C. 619:5 when the S.A. quotes the din of standing for all of davening, which is based on the idea of trying to be like an angel (they stand around on their one foot all day), the M.B. in the Sha'ar haTziyun writes that this does not apply to women. The source is the previous din in O.C. 610, which seems true only if you hold like the MG"A. To make matters more confusing, the reason the Tur gives for our saying "Baruch Shem K'vod Malchuso..." out loud is because Moshe heard the angels reciting this phrase, and on Yom Kippur we want to be like angels. As far as I know, women also recite the phrase out loud as well.
2. Erev Y"K I was trying to find my kittil when my daughter reminded me that at the seder I had not worn a kittil since I am unfortunately in aveilus this year for my father. Lichorah, the same logic should apply to Y"K as well. She is absolutely right. The Taz understands that the Rama is giving two reasons for wearing a kittil: 1) to be angelic; 2) to remind one of the yom ha'misah. On Pesach as well, like reason #1 here, there are many positive uplifting reasons to wear a kittil, many of which are summarized in this post by R' Eliezer Eisenberg, who already has a full treatment of this topic to which I can add very little. If the reason for wearing a kittil is a reminder of death, then there is no reason an aveil cannot wear one (though the MG"A in Hil Pesach writes that an aveil need not wear one since he has death on his mind without it); if the reason is to have some more positive experience of Yom Tov or of simcha, than the aveil is excluded because he is not supposed to be having positive uplifting experiences during aveilus. The Aruch haShulchan and R' Moshe both opine that an aveil should not wear a kittil on Y"K. What I found interesting in that in Hil Pesach, the M"B (472 s"k 13) first writes that an aveil should not wear the kittil, but if he does, one need not object because the Taz says it is permitted. In Hil Y"K (610 s"k 17) the M"B first quotes (giving this view primacy) the Taz's view that an aveil may wear a kittil and then quotes that there are minhagim not to. Why give the Taz primacy here but put it on the back burner in Hil Pesach?
3. The poskim have problems with the line in Ne'ilah, "Hayom yifneh, hashemesh yavo..." If it is already after shekiya (which it was where I was davening when the shat"z got to this line, and I think that is probably true of many of not most places), then the day has in fact passed and the sun is down already, so the future tense seems wrong. I saw that R' Chaim Kanievkey said to chang the nusach to past tense (i.e. "hayom panah, hashemesh ba'ah...") though the Aruch haShulchan opines that one need not do so. In any case, it seems strange to me that in the previous line we say, "Psach lanu sha'ar... ki panah yom," here using the past tense. Is it "panah yom" or "yifneh yom?" I don't know how you can have it both ways.
4. Nu, on to preparing for Sukkos. The Shem m'Shmuel writes that the reason we do na'anuim by waving the lulav away from and then to the heart is because while on Y"K we got our mind in order and now understand mentally what we need to do with out lives, we need to bring the lesson into our hearts, and that's what Sukkos is for.
The MG"A comments on this Rama that the Midrash indicates that angels are male (my wife commented that an angel can't reproduce, so gender doesn't have much meaning up there. I assume the terms male/female in this context are meant in the sense of mashpia vs. mekabeil, or chomer vs tzurah, though I found that the Anaf Yosef on the Midrash Rabbah, Vayikra 31:5 asks this question and gives a different answer), and therefore women need not wear white. However, they may wear a kittil to remind them of death. Women, according to the MG"A, are not angels.
The M"B quotes the Mateh Ephraim who holds exactly the opposite. Women should also wear white, but the custom is for women to not wear a kittil. Interestingly, though, in O.C. 619:5 when the S.A. quotes the din of standing for all of davening, which is based on the idea of trying to be like an angel (they stand around on their one foot all day), the M.B. in the Sha'ar haTziyun writes that this does not apply to women. The source is the previous din in O.C. 610, which seems true only if you hold like the MG"A. To make matters more confusing, the reason the Tur gives for our saying "Baruch Shem K'vod Malchuso..." out loud is because Moshe heard the angels reciting this phrase, and on Yom Kippur we want to be like angels. As far as I know, women also recite the phrase out loud as well.
2. Erev Y"K I was trying to find my kittil when my daughter reminded me that at the seder I had not worn a kittil since I am unfortunately in aveilus this year for my father. Lichorah, the same logic should apply to Y"K as well. She is absolutely right. The Taz understands that the Rama is giving two reasons for wearing a kittil: 1) to be angelic; 2) to remind one of the yom ha'misah. On Pesach as well, like reason #1 here, there are many positive uplifting reasons to wear a kittil, many of which are summarized in this post by R' Eliezer Eisenberg, who already has a full treatment of this topic to which I can add very little. If the reason for wearing a kittil is a reminder of death, then there is no reason an aveil cannot wear one (though the MG"A in Hil Pesach writes that an aveil need not wear one since he has death on his mind without it); if the reason is to have some more positive experience of Yom Tov or of simcha, than the aveil is excluded because he is not supposed to be having positive uplifting experiences during aveilus. The Aruch haShulchan and R' Moshe both opine that an aveil should not wear a kittil on Y"K. What I found interesting in that in Hil Pesach, the M"B (472 s"k 13) first writes that an aveil should not wear the kittil, but if he does, one need not object because the Taz says it is permitted. In Hil Y"K (610 s"k 17) the M"B first quotes (giving this view primacy) the Taz's view that an aveil may wear a kittil and then quotes that there are minhagim not to. Why give the Taz primacy here but put it on the back burner in Hil Pesach?
3. The poskim have problems with the line in Ne'ilah, "Hayom yifneh, hashemesh yavo..." If it is already after shekiya (which it was where I was davening when the shat"z got to this line, and I think that is probably true of many of not most places), then the day has in fact passed and the sun is down already, so the future tense seems wrong. I saw that R' Chaim Kanievkey said to chang the nusach to past tense (i.e. "hayom panah, hashemesh ba'ah...") though the Aruch haShulchan opines that one need not do so. In any case, it seems strange to me that in the previous line we say, "Psach lanu sha'ar... ki panah yom," here using the past tense. Is it "panah yom" or "yifneh yom?" I don't know how you can have it both ways.
4. Nu, on to preparing for Sukkos. The Shem m'Shmuel writes that the reason we do na'anuim by waving the lulav away from and then to the heart is because while on Y"K we got our mind in order and now understand mentally what we need to do with out lives, we need to bring the lesson into our hearts, and that's what Sukkos is for.
Monday, September 21, 2015
you get what you ask for
This pasuk of “anochi haster astir” is tremendously difficult because it comes on the heels of Bnei Yisrael admitting that “ki ain Elokai b’kirbi metza’uni hara’os ha’eileh,” a seeming admission of guilt and wrongdoing. Why does Hashem respond to that with greater hester panim even than before? We’ve discussed this question before, but I want to mention an approach of the Abarbanel that I think rings especially true in our times. It could be al pi peshuto the simplest answer is that the expression “ain Elokai b’kirbi” is actually referring to the avodah zarah idols. Elokai should be with a lower-case e and read as chol. The people are not confessing, but are actually ascribing what goes wrong to their avodah zarah abandoning them. The difficulty is that idolatry is not usually referred to as "ELokai" (though my wife pointed out that when Lavan accuses Ya'akov of stealing his terafim, that is the word he uses). Abarbanel suggests that the previous pesukim reveal that Bnei Yisrael were guilty of two sins: 1) worshipping avodah zarah; 2) not serving G-d properly. These are not exactly two sides of the same coin. When Bnei Yisrael confess, "Ain Elokai b'kirbi," they are taking responsibility for sin #2 -- they are acknowledging that they need to do better in their avodas Hashem. What they fail to admit, and fail to acknowledge, is sin #1 -- that they are also guilty of idolatry. What they fail to admit and fail to acknowledge is that you can't have more avodas Hashem without giving up the lifestyle of avodah zarah. You can't be poseiach al shtei ha'se'ifim or have a shutfus. It's either/or. This is hard to swallow. No one is an oveid avodah zarah, but the same idea can express itself more subtly. We all want to strive for more in avodas Hashem, but we don't want to sacrifice our enjoyments or face our shortcomings either. We prefer to ignore the negative within and instead just focus on doing more good in some way or other and think that absolves us. As R' Yisrael Salanter put it, it's easier to learn shas than to correct one midah. "Ain Elokai b'kirbi" so I have to take on another seder, write a bigger check to charity, daven a little slower, etc. -- all wonderful things, but if the same person ignores the avodah zarah/midah ra'ah that remains within and does nothing to correct it, he is doing half a job that is as good as no job. Again, a very hard lesson to swallow.
So I don't want to enter Yom Kippur on a negative note, so on to something a little more positive, something I find a little scary. Commenting on the phrase, “Anochi haster astir panei mei’hem,” (31:18) GR”A asks why the Torah uses the double-language of “haster astir.” He answers that the Torah is telling is that it is the very fact that Hashem is hiding himself, the “astir panay mei’hem,” which is what is being concealed with “hester.” We think of all kinds of reasons to explain what happens to ourselves, to our families, to those living in Eretz Yisrael – the economy is bad, anti-semitism, politics, etc. We invent a reason for everything. The only reason we don’t consider is the real reason: Hashem has removed his hashgacha because we are not doing what he wants. The real reason remains hidden; we have a mental block that prevents us from thinking about it. This part of the GR”A, the pshat in the pasuk, I think is pretty well known, but my impression is that the rest of the GR”A’s comment, what I call the scary part, is less well known. The GR"A continues and asks why it is that Hashem conceals from us the fact that he is concealed and he answers that if we knew what was going on, if we knew we were being punished with hester panim, then we would daven for Hashem to reveal himself, and He would inevitably respond. The only way we can be punished by the removal of hashgacha is if we don’t daven to prevent it.
It’s up to us – all we have to do is daven for Hashem to remove this block of hester panim and whatever gezeiros are lined up against us will be removed.
On Yom Kippur night one of the first things we say after kol nidrei is the pasuk, “VaYomer Hashem salachti k’devarecha.” This pasuk is Hashem’s response to Moshe’s tefilah to forgive Bnei Yisrael for the cheit ha’meraglim. Of all the pesukim and tefilos we could possibly use to “lead off” our Yom Kippur, why is this the one that is chosen? In one of R’ Ya’akov Shapira’s sichot he makes reference to a Sefas Emes in the likutim for Parshas Shelach that may answer this question. The Rishonim point out that Moshe invokes some, but not all of the 13 midos in that tefilah for forgiveness. There are various explanations as to why Moshe omitted some of the midos, e.g. Ramban explains that Moshe could not invoke the midah of “emes” because the meraglim were guilty of saying sheker about Eretz Yisrael. Whatever the explanations, bottom line is that Moshe pulled his punches. Hashem’s responded: “Salachti k’devarecha” -- exactly what you asked for, "k'devarecha," that’s what you will get. Half of a request means half forgiveness, but the slate is not going to be wiped clean. True, Moshe had all kinds of good reasons for not invoking all 13 midos, but af al pi kein… Maybe the lesson is that when you daven, all the reasons and analysis of what you should say and how you should say it don’t matter. When you are in pain and in need, you scream out – you don’t make cheshbonos. That’s what tefilah has to be.
So we learn from the GR”A that the removal of hester panim is completely in our hands if only we ask for it. And we learn from the Sefas Emes that tefilah is not a time to pull punches -– it’s the time to swing for the fences and ask Hashem for anything and everything. That's what we want to remind ourselves of as we enter the most auspicious day of the year.
So I don't want to enter Yom Kippur on a negative note, so on to something a little more positive, something I find a little scary. Commenting on the phrase, “Anochi haster astir panei mei’hem,” (31:18) GR”A asks why the Torah uses the double-language of “haster astir.” He answers that the Torah is telling is that it is the very fact that Hashem is hiding himself, the “astir panay mei’hem,” which is what is being concealed with “hester.” We think of all kinds of reasons to explain what happens to ourselves, to our families, to those living in Eretz Yisrael – the economy is bad, anti-semitism, politics, etc. We invent a reason for everything. The only reason we don’t consider is the real reason: Hashem has removed his hashgacha because we are not doing what he wants. The real reason remains hidden; we have a mental block that prevents us from thinking about it. This part of the GR”A, the pshat in the pasuk, I think is pretty well known, but my impression is that the rest of the GR”A’s comment, what I call the scary part, is less well known. The GR"A continues and asks why it is that Hashem conceals from us the fact that he is concealed and he answers that if we knew what was going on, if we knew we were being punished with hester panim, then we would daven for Hashem to reveal himself, and He would inevitably respond. The only way we can be punished by the removal of hashgacha is if we don’t daven to prevent it.
It’s up to us – all we have to do is daven for Hashem to remove this block of hester panim and whatever gezeiros are lined up against us will be removed.
On Yom Kippur night one of the first things we say after kol nidrei is the pasuk, “VaYomer Hashem salachti k’devarecha.” This pasuk is Hashem’s response to Moshe’s tefilah to forgive Bnei Yisrael for the cheit ha’meraglim. Of all the pesukim and tefilos we could possibly use to “lead off” our Yom Kippur, why is this the one that is chosen? In one of R’ Ya’akov Shapira’s sichot he makes reference to a Sefas Emes in the likutim for Parshas Shelach that may answer this question. The Rishonim point out that Moshe invokes some, but not all of the 13 midos in that tefilah for forgiveness. There are various explanations as to why Moshe omitted some of the midos, e.g. Ramban explains that Moshe could not invoke the midah of “emes” because the meraglim were guilty of saying sheker about Eretz Yisrael. Whatever the explanations, bottom line is that Moshe pulled his punches. Hashem’s responded: “Salachti k’devarecha” -- exactly what you asked for, "k'devarecha," that’s what you will get. Half of a request means half forgiveness, but the slate is not going to be wiped clean. True, Moshe had all kinds of good reasons for not invoking all 13 midos, but af al pi kein… Maybe the lesson is that when you daven, all the reasons and analysis of what you should say and how you should say it don’t matter. When you are in pain and in need, you scream out – you don’t make cheshbonos. That’s what tefilah has to be.
So we learn from the GR”A that the removal of hester panim is completely in our hands if only we ask for it. And we learn from the Sefas Emes that tefilah is not a time to pull punches -– it’s the time to swing for the fences and ask Hashem for anything and everything. That's what we want to remind ourselves of as we enter the most auspicious day of the year.
Thursday, September 17, 2015
a special time of year
Chazal (R”H 11) tell us that Chanah, Rachel, and Sarah were all “remembered” on Rosh HaShana and Hashem gave them the ability to have children. What meaning does this have for us? None of us measure up to these tzidkaniyos, so just because they merited special deliverance doesn’t mean we will get the same treatment.
R’ Leibel Eiger explains that we see from this Chazal that despite the great merits that Sarah, Rachel, and Chanah surely had, those merits were in-and-of themselves not enough to warrant their being blessed with children. It was only because Hashem reviewed their case, so to speak, on Rosh HaShana, that they were zochos. The time of year is what made all the difference. We of course don’t have the same level of zechuyos that these tzidkaniyos had, but we do have the same opportunity to take advantage of this special, mesugal time period. The gates upstairs are open and things that a person couldn’t be zocheh to, no matter how great he/she is, are now possible to merit.
It’s been a short week with less time than usual, so I just want to pose a question on the parsha and leave it at that because I don't yet have a good answer to share. The theme of Parshas VaYeilech is the transition from the leadership of Moshe, whose life is coming to a close, to that of Yehoshua. We have Moshe giving a final speech to Bnei Yisrael, Moshe turning over the sefer Torah he completed to the Bnei Levi, Moshe giving a charge to Yehoshua to be strong, and in the middle and midst of all this we have the mitzvah of hakhel. Why give that mitzvah here? Why not discuss it in Parshas Shoftim, where the laws of the king are discussed, since it is the king (Ralbag interestingly writes that the kohen gadol or any nasi can do the reading) who reads the Torah, or maybe in Parshas Behar, where the laws of shemita appear, since hakhel is done right after the shemita year? Why stick it in the middle of our parsha, in the middle of Moshe turning over the reins (and the reign) to Yehoshua?
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Chanah's tefilos
I know the minhag is for most Rabbis to say divrei hisorerus before tekiyas shofar, but I was thinking that if you read the news and have any idea what is going on the world and that is not me'orer you to daven and focus on Rosh haShana, then I don't see what a Rabbi can say in 10 minutes that will make any difference. (Of course I guess if you are a practicing Rabbi I guess you have a right to tell me that I haven't heard what you can do in those 10 minutes... )
The navi tells us that after Chanah davened, "Va'teilech ha'isha l'darka vatochal u'paneha lo hayu lah od." (Shmuel I 1:18) Chanah had some measure of comfort and she went back to being her normal self -- she ate, she looked okay, etc. Practically speaking, nothing in Chanah's life had changed, yet she obviously looked at the world in a different way than beforehand. What changed?
The Chasam Sofer in his Derashos writes that it was not that Chanah was so confident that her tefilah would be answered. Chazal (see Tosfos R"H 16b d"h iyun) frown upon a person who feels assured that his/her prayers will be answered -- there are no guarantees no matter how hard you pray. Rather, what changed is that Chanah was now willing to accept her situation even if in the end she would not have a child. A person has to make the maximum hishtadlus, including and especially tefilah, but once that hishtadlus is exhausted, a person has to surrender and accept whatever G-d chooses to do. If after coming to the Mishkan on Rosh haShana and pouring her heart out Chanah still was not blessed with a child, she was willing to accept that that was the ratzon Hashem and live with it.
The navi tells us that after Chanah davened, "Va'teilech ha'isha l'darka vatochal u'paneha lo hayu lah od." (Shmuel I 1:18) Chanah had some measure of comfort and she went back to being her normal self -- she ate, she looked okay, etc. Practically speaking, nothing in Chanah's life had changed, yet she obviously looked at the world in a different way than beforehand. What changed?
The Chasam Sofer in his Derashos writes that it was not that Chanah was so confident that her tefilah would be answered. Chazal (see Tosfos R"H 16b d"h iyun) frown upon a person who feels assured that his/her prayers will be answered -- there are no guarantees no matter how hard you pray. Rather, what changed is that Chanah was now willing to accept her situation even if in the end she would not have a child. A person has to make the maximum hishtadlus, including and especially tefilah, but once that hishtadlus is exhausted, a person has to surrender and accept whatever G-d chooses to do. If after coming to the Mishkan on Rosh haShana and pouring her heart out Chanah still was not blessed with a child, she was willing to accept that that was the ratzon Hashem and live with it.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
it's not about us
I really wanted to write about both the parsha and Rosh haShana, but as usual, too much to do and too little time, so I have to keep this short and will try in a jumble to touch a few bases.
R’ Chaim Volozhiner takes note of the fact that when the navi describes Chanah’s tefilah, which we will IY”H read on Rosh haShana, it doesn’t say, “vatispallel EL Hashem,” but rather “vatispallel AL Hashem.” (Shmuel I 1:10) Why the strange expression?
We learn from the navi something important about how we should daven and what we should daven for. The Zohar uses very harsh language and compares someone who comes before Hashem with a list of requests to a dog that cries “Give! Give!” to its master. So what are we doing when we daven for health, for parnasa, for all the other things we ask for? On Rosh haShana even the shofar is a means of bakasha. The Sefas Emes writes that the 12 shofar blasts, Tekiya-Teruah-Tekiya, Tekiya-Shevarim-Tekiya, Tekiya-Shevarim-Teruah-Tekiya, correspond to the 12 middle brachos of our shmoneh esrei where we make our requests to Hashem. How in light of this Zohar could Chanah devote an entire tefilah to pleading with Hashem for a son and how can we devote so much of our tefilos to making requests?
The answer is that we are not davening “EL Hashem,” to G-d, bringing to him a laundry lists of our personal wants, but rather we are davening “AL Hashem,” davening about G-d, davening for kavyachol his needs and his wants. A world with a Shmuel haNavi who can serve in the Mishkan and who can inspire Klal Yisrael with his leadership is a world with a greater presence of the Shechina, a world that is closer to G-d. Had there not been a Shmuel haNavi, there would be a tremendous vacuum of ruchniyus that would have been unfilled. When Chanah asked Hashem for a son, it was not a personal request rooted on her emotional needs and wants, but rather it was a request rooted in the desire to bring about hashra’as haShechina, what Hashem wants.
Everyone thinks that the reason we eat the simanim on Rosh HaShana night is because it’s not enough to just ask for the laundry list of things that we want, but we have to go a step further and translate those requests into symbolic actions to make them more real, to give them more weight. The Sefas Emes in his first piece on Rosh haShana says exactly the opposite. A siman is just a remez, a little hint. Our main concern and our main request on Rosh haShana is that there be more kvod malchus shamayim. As an aside, we sneak in a little hint to some of our own personal needs and wants as well. We don’t do it openly – we just make a siman, a remez, because these are all secondary to what our real focus is, which is malchus Hashem. If we are leading lives l'shem shamayim and our needs and wants are l'shem shamayim, then m'meila when there is more kvod shamayim our needs will be fulfilled as well.
The Tiferes Shlmo on Parshas Nitzavim echoes the same theme. He points out that the word “shama” at the end of the pasuk, “…V’hasheivosa el levavecha b’chol hagoyim asher hidichacha Hashem Elokecha SHAMA,” (30:1) seems completely extraneous. Be inserting a few commas, a few extra pauses, he reads the pasuk in way that makes every word count. “V’hasheivosa el levavecha,” we have to take to heart, “b’chol hagoyim asher hidichacha,” in all those places that Hashem was forced to send us because we needed the punishment of galus, “Hashem Elokecha shama,” Hashem himself is there along with us. Sure, our being in galus feels bad for us, but what should really bother us is kavyachol the pain the Shechina is in because it is schlepped into galus along with us, just so we are not abandoned. The next pasuk then continues, “V’shavta AD Hashem Elokecha” – again, not “EL Hashem,” but rather “AD Hashem” (just like the words of the haftarah ,“Shuvah yisrael AD Hashem Elokecha…”) The return being spoken about is a return to a focus on the Shechina rather than ourselves, a re-orientation to the right priorities.
That in a nutshell is part of our avodah for the upcoming days. Hopefully we will all be vehicles through which there is a greater giluy of kvod shamayim in the world, and through that we will benefit bracha and hatzalacha in the upcoming year.
R’ Chaim Volozhiner takes note of the fact that when the navi describes Chanah’s tefilah, which we will IY”H read on Rosh haShana, it doesn’t say, “vatispallel EL Hashem,” but rather “vatispallel AL Hashem.” (Shmuel I 1:10) Why the strange expression?
We learn from the navi something important about how we should daven and what we should daven for. The Zohar uses very harsh language and compares someone who comes before Hashem with a list of requests to a dog that cries “Give! Give!” to its master. So what are we doing when we daven for health, for parnasa, for all the other things we ask for? On Rosh haShana even the shofar is a means of bakasha. The Sefas Emes writes that the 12 shofar blasts, Tekiya-Teruah-Tekiya, Tekiya-Shevarim-Tekiya, Tekiya-Shevarim-Teruah-Tekiya, correspond to the 12 middle brachos of our shmoneh esrei where we make our requests to Hashem. How in light of this Zohar could Chanah devote an entire tefilah to pleading with Hashem for a son and how can we devote so much of our tefilos to making requests?
The answer is that we are not davening “EL Hashem,” to G-d, bringing to him a laundry lists of our personal wants, but rather we are davening “AL Hashem,” davening about G-d, davening for kavyachol his needs and his wants. A world with a Shmuel haNavi who can serve in the Mishkan and who can inspire Klal Yisrael with his leadership is a world with a greater presence of the Shechina, a world that is closer to G-d. Had there not been a Shmuel haNavi, there would be a tremendous vacuum of ruchniyus that would have been unfilled. When Chanah asked Hashem for a son, it was not a personal request rooted on her emotional needs and wants, but rather it was a request rooted in the desire to bring about hashra’as haShechina, what Hashem wants.
Everyone thinks that the reason we eat the simanim on Rosh HaShana night is because it’s not enough to just ask for the laundry list of things that we want, but we have to go a step further and translate those requests into symbolic actions to make them more real, to give them more weight. The Sefas Emes in his first piece on Rosh haShana says exactly the opposite. A siman is just a remez, a little hint. Our main concern and our main request on Rosh haShana is that there be more kvod malchus shamayim. As an aside, we sneak in a little hint to some of our own personal needs and wants as well. We don’t do it openly – we just make a siman, a remez, because these are all secondary to what our real focus is, which is malchus Hashem. If we are leading lives l'shem shamayim and our needs and wants are l'shem shamayim, then m'meila when there is more kvod shamayim our needs will be fulfilled as well.
The Tiferes Shlmo on Parshas Nitzavim echoes the same theme. He points out that the word “shama” at the end of the pasuk, “…V’hasheivosa el levavecha b’chol hagoyim asher hidichacha Hashem Elokecha SHAMA,” (30:1) seems completely extraneous. Be inserting a few commas, a few extra pauses, he reads the pasuk in way that makes every word count. “V’hasheivosa el levavecha,” we have to take to heart, “b’chol hagoyim asher hidichacha,” in all those places that Hashem was forced to send us because we needed the punishment of galus, “Hashem Elokecha shama,” Hashem himself is there along with us. Sure, our being in galus feels bad for us, but what should really bother us is kavyachol the pain the Shechina is in because it is schlepped into galus along with us, just so we are not abandoned. The next pasuk then continues, “V’shavta AD Hashem Elokecha” – again, not “EL Hashem,” but rather “AD Hashem” (just like the words of the haftarah ,“Shuvah yisrael AD Hashem Elokecha…”) The return being spoken about is a return to a focus on the Shechina rather than ourselves, a re-orientation to the right priorities.
That in a nutshell is part of our avodah for the upcoming days. Hopefully we will all be vehicles through which there is a greater giluy of kvod shamayim in the world, and through that we will benefit bracha and hatzalacha in the upcoming year.
Thursday, September 03, 2015
bikurim vs challah: mitzvah vs matir, and more
1) The Beis Ya’akov of Ishbitz points out that the idea of bikurim is reflected in the root of the word: b-k-r. The letter beis is the second letter of the first unit of 10 in the aleph-beis; the letter kaf is the second letter in the unit of the next 10; the letter reish is the second letter in the last group. B-k-r is all about coming in second. The farmer says, “Hinei heiveisi es reishis pri ha’adamah,” these are my first fruits, but the truth is that before he even planted the seed from which those fruits grew there was an earlier reishis, the reishis of Hashem’s plan for these seeds to grow for this farmer and be used for this purpose. When the farmer brings those first fruits to the Beis haMikdash, he reminds himself of the real reishis.
2) Rashi comments on the word “reishis” in the pasuk, “V’lakachta mei’reishis kol pri ha’adamah”:
לא כל ראשית, שאין כל הפירות חייבין בבכורים אלא שבעת המינין בלבד
The Mizrachi makes one little change in the girsa -- he takes out the letter “shin” before the word “she’ain...” – but boy, does changing that one letter make a difference. According to Mizrachi, Rashi is making two separate unrelated statements: 1) you can’t designate an entire field as bikkurim, i.e. there has to be something leftover after you take off the reishis; 2) only the seven minim are obligated in bikurim.
What’s motivating Mizrachi here is the parallel between this Rashi and another Rashi. In the parsha of hafrashas challah Rashi comments on the words “mei’reishis arisoseichem” (Bamidbar 15:21) that challah must be “miktzasa v’lo kulah,” i.e. it is a piece that is taken off from the batch of dough, but it cannot be the entire batch. Here too, according to Mizrachi, bikurim must be “mei’reishis,” part of the crop, but one cannot designate the entire crop or field to be bikurim.
Maharal in Gur Aryeh disagrees and says a lomdish chiluk. There is an issur of tevel that prohibits eating the food before challah and terumah are taken. The hafrasha of terumah and challah is a matir - it comes to remove that issur; therefore, there has to be something leftover upon which the matir is chal. Not so bikurim. There is no issur of eating the crop before bikurim have been taken off – it’s a mitzvah to tak bikurim, but it’s not a matir of anything. Tosfos (Bava Basra 81) writes that bikurim are a chiyuv on the person, not on the fruit.
The MG”A (O.C. 8 - posted on this in 2006 in piece that needs rewriting ) asks how it is that woman sit when they recite the bracha on hafrashas challah when birchos hamitzvah are supposed to be recited while standing. He answers that there is a difference between mitzvos like challah and shechitah and other mitzvos. The MG”A might be alluding to this sevara of the Gur Aryeh: hafrashas challah is a matir, not a mitzvah in its own right. (See this post as well.)
3) The halacha is that a person cannot appoint a shliach to bring his bikurim to the Beis haMikdash – he has to deliver them himself. A shliach cannot give thanks for “ha’adamah asher nasatah li,” as is the nusach recited when bringing bikurim, if the bikurim are in fact not the fruits of his land but of someone else’s. I would suggest that this is not just a technical issue with the nusach, but says something fundamental about the nature of the mitzvah. If I remember correctly (sorry, I didn't double-check), the Avudraham writes that the reason we say modim derabbanan alongside the chazzan’s recitation of modim during chazaras hashatz is because the theme of modim is giving thanks. Saying thank you is something that must be done personally, not via a shliach. Here too, the purpose of bringing bikurim is to give thanks to Hashem for giving us Eretz Yisrael and its crops. It has to be done in person by coming to the Beis haMikdash, not assigned to a shliach.
4) Since we (Ashkenazim) will IY”H start saying slichos this motzei Shabbos I wanted to highlight the Meshech Chochma’s observation that there are exactly 13 mentions of the shem Hashem in the parsha of bikurim which he says correspond to the 13 midos ha’rachamim. Interestingly, if you look at Shmos 34 where the 13 midos appear, theataliya ends with the mitzvah of bikurim. What are we supposed to make of this observation I don’t know, but it’s something to think about over Shabbos.
2) Rashi comments on the word “reishis” in the pasuk, “V’lakachta mei’reishis kol pri ha’adamah”:
לא כל ראשית, שאין כל הפירות חייבין בבכורים אלא שבעת המינין בלבד
The Mizrachi makes one little change in the girsa -- he takes out the letter “shin” before the word “she’ain...” – but boy, does changing that one letter make a difference. According to Mizrachi, Rashi is making two separate unrelated statements: 1) you can’t designate an entire field as bikkurim, i.e. there has to be something leftover after you take off the reishis; 2) only the seven minim are obligated in bikurim.
What’s motivating Mizrachi here is the parallel between this Rashi and another Rashi. In the parsha of hafrashas challah Rashi comments on the words “mei’reishis arisoseichem” (Bamidbar 15:21) that challah must be “miktzasa v’lo kulah,” i.e. it is a piece that is taken off from the batch of dough, but it cannot be the entire batch. Here too, according to Mizrachi, bikurim must be “mei’reishis,” part of the crop, but one cannot designate the entire crop or field to be bikurim.
Maharal in Gur Aryeh disagrees and says a lomdish chiluk. There is an issur of tevel that prohibits eating the food before challah and terumah are taken. The hafrasha of terumah and challah is a matir - it comes to remove that issur; therefore, there has to be something leftover upon which the matir is chal. Not so bikurim. There is no issur of eating the crop before bikurim have been taken off – it’s a mitzvah to tak bikurim, but it’s not a matir of anything. Tosfos (Bava Basra 81) writes that bikurim are a chiyuv on the person, not on the fruit.
The MG”A (O.C. 8 - posted on this in 2006 in piece that needs rewriting ) asks how it is that woman sit when they recite the bracha on hafrashas challah when birchos hamitzvah are supposed to be recited while standing. He answers that there is a difference between mitzvos like challah and shechitah and other mitzvos. The MG”A might be alluding to this sevara of the Gur Aryeh: hafrashas challah is a matir, not a mitzvah in its own right. (See this post as well.)
3) The halacha is that a person cannot appoint a shliach to bring his bikurim to the Beis haMikdash – he has to deliver them himself. A shliach cannot give thanks for “ha’adamah asher nasatah li,” as is the nusach recited when bringing bikurim, if the bikurim are in fact not the fruits of his land but of someone else’s. I would suggest that this is not just a technical issue with the nusach, but says something fundamental about the nature of the mitzvah. If I remember correctly (sorry, I didn't double-check), the Avudraham writes that the reason we say modim derabbanan alongside the chazzan’s recitation of modim during chazaras hashatz is because the theme of modim is giving thanks. Saying thank you is something that must be done personally, not via a shliach. Here too, the purpose of bringing bikurim is to give thanks to Hashem for giving us Eretz Yisrael and its crops. It has to be done in person by coming to the Beis haMikdash, not assigned to a shliach.
4) Since we (Ashkenazim) will IY”H start saying slichos this motzei Shabbos I wanted to highlight the Meshech Chochma’s observation that there are exactly 13 mentions of the shem Hashem in the parsha of bikurim which he says correspond to the 13 midos ha’rachamim. Interestingly, if you look at Shmos 34 where the 13 midos appear, theataliya ends with the mitzvah of bikurim. What are we supposed to make of this observation I don’t know, but it’s something to think about over Shabbos.
Tuesday, September 01, 2015
desensitized
I don’t know why it never made an impression on me before, but when I started reviewing Rosh haShana this time I was struck by the pesukim the gemara quotes to prove that Nisan is not the start of a new year for kings of the umos ha’olam. The gemara quotes that in Kislev a messenger came and told Nechemya about the terrible time that the people in Yerushalayim were having rebuilding the city because of the constant harassment by enemies. The navi goes on to relate that In Nisan of the same year of Koresh’s reign (proving Nisan does not mark a new year) Nechemya was serving the king wine and Koresh remarked on how distressed and depressed Nechemya looked. Nechemya was forced to explain that he was distressed over what was happening to his brethren in Yerushalayim and he used the opportunity to ask for help.
I can go back to last week’s news and point to any number of stories that if you have half a neshoma should have made your hair stand on end – stories involving Eretz Yisrael and Yerushalayim in particular. How many people even remember these stories a week later, much less feel any sense of pain about what is going on?! And here, when he is appearing before the king and obviously needs to try to make sure he looks his best, Nechemya is so overcome with grief over news he heard **four or five months beforehand** that Koresh can read the depression and distress on his face!
Maybe it’s because we are inundated with painful stories all day thanks to the news and the internet that none of them make an impression on us any longer. We've become desensitized to things that should bother us -- and that's a tragedy that's almost as painful as some of the events themselves.
I can go back to last week’s news and point to any number of stories that if you have half a neshoma should have made your hair stand on end – stories involving Eretz Yisrael and Yerushalayim in particular. How many people even remember these stories a week later, much less feel any sense of pain about what is going on?! And here, when he is appearing before the king and obviously needs to try to make sure he looks his best, Nechemya is so overcome with grief over news he heard **four or five months beforehand** that Koresh can read the depression and distress on his face!
Maybe it’s because we are inundated with painful stories all day thanks to the news and the internet that none of them make an impression on us any longer. We've become desensitized to things that should bother us -- and that's a tragedy that's almost as painful as some of the events themselves.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
setting the right tone
They should probably make teacher appreciation day at the start of the year, not in the middle or the end, because I don’t know a parent who is not thrilled to be able to get their kid out of the house again and back to school this upcoming week. But the truth is that while we like to think our kids are being educated in school and we pay a lot of money for whatever they do there, the main education of any child comes from seeing what parents do at home. The Tiferes Banim interprets the pasuk in the parsha of ben sorer u’moreh, “ainenu shome’a b’kol aviv u’bkol imo,” that if the child does not hear the voice of his parents davening, learning, etc. then “v'yisru oso v’lo yishma aleihem,” when they rebuke him and tell him that he has to learn, he has to daven, etc., he is not going to listen. Why should he listen to their speeches about what he should do if they behave differently themselves?
My two additional cents: the Ohr haChaim in parshas Braishis distinguishes between the word “kol,” which refers to tone of voice, and words like “dibur” or “amira,” which refer to what is actually said. When Adam is chastised, “Ki Shamata b’kol ishtecha…,” Hashem was telling him that the reason he was led astray is because he paid attention to the enticing voice Chavah had used, the way she spoke. Had he paid attention only to the words only, he would have recognized that they contradicted Hashem’s instructions. “Hakol kol Ya’akov” means that Yitzchak recognized the tone of voice as that of Ya’akov and not Eisav. Similarly, perhaps “ainenu shome’a b’kol aviv u’bkol imo,” (it could have just as easily said, “ainenu shomea l’kol aviv v’imo”) means that the ben sorer u’moreh is not hearing any instruction given in the tone of voice of a parent. There are parents who instead of speaking like parents speak like taskmasters (they are authoritarian instead of authoritative, as the psychology books put it). And on the other extreme, daughter #2 yesterday explained a certain phrase to me and then added that “It’s not how a parent would say it.” I’m glad she recognizes the difference, but there are parents who don’t and prefer to speak like teenagers or friends. “Ainenu shome’a b’kol aviv u’b’kol imo” – the ben sorer u’moreh is not hearing a father’s voice, a mother’s voice. He hears words, but hearing words alone without hearing them expressed in the proper tone and nuance -- that of a parent -- are not enough.
The gemara (Nedarim 81) writes that the Chachamim and Nevi’im could not understand why the churban happened until Hashem himself revealed the reason. The gemara darshens the double-language of the pasuk in Yirmiyahu (9:12) “V’lo shamu b’koli v’lo halchu bah” and asks isn’t “lo shamu b’koli” the same as “lo halchu bah?” The gemara answers that the extra language reveals that the sin that caused the churban was the failure to recite birchas haTorah. Ran explains that the lack of bracha shows that the learning lacked any feeling of lishma (see also Maharal in the intro to Tiferes Yisrael). How do Chazal get that lesson from the pasuk? If you will forgive me (it’s aggadita, so I'll take greater license) for learning differently than the Ran, I would suggest that the derasha comes from the words “lo sham’u b’koli,” not "lo halchu bah" as he learns. “Kol,” again, is about the tone, not the words. Klal Yisrael was not guilty of not learning. There was learning galore – but the tone was wrong, the feeling was wrong. The Rambam compares the relationship one should have with Hashem to the relationship between a husband and wife. It’s not just what a husband says to a wife, or vice versa, that is different than conversations had with others, but the whole tone of how they communicate with each other is different. That's what was missing in the relationship between Hashem and Klal Yisrael at the time of the churban (see also Netziv on the words “ainenu shome’a b’kol aviv ub’kol imo” as referring to Torah.)
Why is the ben sorer u’moreh punished so severely? Chazal ask, “For eating a tartimor of meat and drinking a half a lug of Italian wine a father and mother should bring their child to get sekilah?!” The gemara in the name of R’ Shimon concludes that the parsha never happened – it’s an impossibility. It was only written only to give us extra schar for learning Torah (and the meforshim discuss why this parsha in particular is given for schar; in theory any number of imaginary laws could be given for the same reason.) The Ibn Ezra interestingly does justify the killing of the ben sorer u’moreh. He explains that a life of running after indulgences and constant drink is “k’mo apikores,” a very striking statement. Not, as Rashi explains, that such a lifestyle will lead to greater crimes, but that the lifestyle of the ben sorer u’moreh is itself a crime (see also Ramban).
If the Ibn Ezra’s moral intuition is right, then why doesn't R' Shimon say the same thing? Why doesn’t he answer that the ben sorer u’moreh is deserving of what he gets because he is an apikores? I think the answer is that Chazal and the Ibn Ezra are asking two different questions. The Ibn Ezra’s focus is on what the ben sorer u’moreh did wrong – why he is morally culpable. The question Chazal are asking is not how or why the ben sorer u’moreh deserves to be punished so severely, but rather how in the world could there be parents who would bring their own child to such a fate. That is the point which Chazal found so unbelievable. “Bneinu zeh sorer u’moreh…” The Alshich reads the extra word “bneinu” as an admission of guilt on the part of the parents – it’s our child, and therefore, our fault. I would suggest that it can be read as a message of acceptance – true, this is a sorer u’moreh, but it’s still “bneinu,” our child. It’s the incongruity of those feelings with the rest of the pasuk that make this parsha unfathomable.
My two additional cents: the Ohr haChaim in parshas Braishis distinguishes between the word “kol,” which refers to tone of voice, and words like “dibur” or “amira,” which refer to what is actually said. When Adam is chastised, “Ki Shamata b’kol ishtecha…,” Hashem was telling him that the reason he was led astray is because he paid attention to the enticing voice Chavah had used, the way she spoke. Had he paid attention only to the words only, he would have recognized that they contradicted Hashem’s instructions. “Hakol kol Ya’akov” means that Yitzchak recognized the tone of voice as that of Ya’akov and not Eisav. Similarly, perhaps “ainenu shome’a b’kol aviv u’bkol imo,” (it could have just as easily said, “ainenu shomea l’kol aviv v’imo”) means that the ben sorer u’moreh is not hearing any instruction given in the tone of voice of a parent. There are parents who instead of speaking like parents speak like taskmasters (they are authoritarian instead of authoritative, as the psychology books put it). And on the other extreme, daughter #2 yesterday explained a certain phrase to me and then added that “It’s not how a parent would say it.” I’m glad she recognizes the difference, but there are parents who don’t and prefer to speak like teenagers or friends. “Ainenu shome’a b’kol aviv u’b’kol imo” – the ben sorer u’moreh is not hearing a father’s voice, a mother’s voice. He hears words, but hearing words alone without hearing them expressed in the proper tone and nuance -- that of a parent -- are not enough.
The gemara (Nedarim 81) writes that the Chachamim and Nevi’im could not understand why the churban happened until Hashem himself revealed the reason. The gemara darshens the double-language of the pasuk in Yirmiyahu (9:12) “V’lo shamu b’koli v’lo halchu bah” and asks isn’t “lo shamu b’koli” the same as “lo halchu bah?” The gemara answers that the extra language reveals that the sin that caused the churban was the failure to recite birchas haTorah. Ran explains that the lack of bracha shows that the learning lacked any feeling of lishma (see also Maharal in the intro to Tiferes Yisrael). How do Chazal get that lesson from the pasuk? If you will forgive me (it’s aggadita, so I'll take greater license) for learning differently than the Ran, I would suggest that the derasha comes from the words “lo sham’u b’koli,” not "lo halchu bah" as he learns. “Kol,” again, is about the tone, not the words. Klal Yisrael was not guilty of not learning. There was learning galore – but the tone was wrong, the feeling was wrong. The Rambam compares the relationship one should have with Hashem to the relationship between a husband and wife. It’s not just what a husband says to a wife, or vice versa, that is different than conversations had with others, but the whole tone of how they communicate with each other is different. That's what was missing in the relationship between Hashem and Klal Yisrael at the time of the churban (see also Netziv on the words “ainenu shome’a b’kol aviv ub’kol imo” as referring to Torah.)
Why is the ben sorer u’moreh punished so severely? Chazal ask, “For eating a tartimor of meat and drinking a half a lug of Italian wine a father and mother should bring their child to get sekilah?!” The gemara in the name of R’ Shimon concludes that the parsha never happened – it’s an impossibility. It was only written only to give us extra schar for learning Torah (and the meforshim discuss why this parsha in particular is given for schar; in theory any number of imaginary laws could be given for the same reason.) The Ibn Ezra interestingly does justify the killing of the ben sorer u’moreh. He explains that a life of running after indulgences and constant drink is “k’mo apikores,” a very striking statement. Not, as Rashi explains, that such a lifestyle will lead to greater crimes, but that the lifestyle of the ben sorer u’moreh is itself a crime (see also Ramban).
If the Ibn Ezra’s moral intuition is right, then why doesn't R' Shimon say the same thing? Why doesn’t he answer that the ben sorer u’moreh is deserving of what he gets because he is an apikores? I think the answer is that Chazal and the Ibn Ezra are asking two different questions. The Ibn Ezra’s focus is on what the ben sorer u’moreh did wrong – why he is morally culpable. The question Chazal are asking is not how or why the ben sorer u’moreh deserves to be punished so severely, but rather how in the world could there be parents who would bring their own child to such a fate. That is the point which Chazal found so unbelievable. “Bneinu zeh sorer u’moreh…” The Alshich reads the extra word “bneinu” as an admission of guilt on the part of the parents – it’s our child, and therefore, our fault. I would suggest that it can be read as a message of acceptance – true, this is a sorer u’moreh, but it’s still “bneinu,” our child. It’s the incongruity of those feelings with the rest of the pasuk that make this parsha unfathomable.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
eid zomein chiddush -- does that mean there is no rhyme or reason to it?
The Rishonim offer various reasons why even though normally when two sets of witnesses contradict each other the result is a draw, when it comes to eidim zomimim we believe the second set of witnesses and discard the testimony of the zomimim. Ramban and others suggest that we are only left with a standoff in a case where Witness Group A says Reuvain stole $100 and Witness Group B says Reuvain did not steal $100, challenging the veracity of their testimony and. However, if Witness Group A says, “We were in the store at 2:00 on Tuesday when Reuvain stole $100,” and Witness Group B says, “You were with us on Tuesday and not in that store,” Witness Group B is not saying anything about the veracity of Witness Group A’s testimony regarding Reuvain. Since there is no direct contradiction, the Torah accepts their testimony as accurate.
The Derashos haRan gives another interesting reason. If Witness Group A wanted to lie, they could in theory pick any day of the week and any time of day and claim that is when they saw Reuvain steal. Witness Group B does not have the same luxury. They have to testify about the time and place set by Witness Group A. There is no wiggle room for them to concoct a story about that precise date/time in advance and hope no one can prove them wrong.
So the law of eidim zomimim makes perfect sense, right?
Yet in Bava Kama 71 the gemara says according to Rava that eid zomem is a chiddush, i.e. something unexpected, outside the norm. Given the explanations given by the Rishonim, what makes believing the second witnesses unexpected? Isn't it the logical thing to do? True, Abayei disagrees with Rava, but it seems far-fetched to say that Abayei and Rava were arguing about whether the reasons given in the Rishonim are compelling and make sense or not.
This question is asked by my wife’s grandfather, but in truth the Lechem Mishneh (Hil Eidus ch 18) beat him to it (as he notes himself). I think we can answer the question by clarifying what this whole concept of a chiddush is. My thinking on this was driven by the discussion in ch 3 of R' Moshe Avigdor Amiel's introduction to his Midos l'Cheiker HaHalacha. Here's his reduction ad absurdum argument: if you define chiddush as something that defies logic or common sense, then you've just about obliterated the term because every pasuk in chumash is a chiddush. As the gemara itself says, “lamah li k’ra – sevara hu?” – if there is a pasuk that is needed to derive a din, it means by definition you would not know it based on sevara or common sense alone. So what do Chazal mean when they label only certain dinim as a chiddush? R' Amiel suggests that a chiddush is not measured against outside barometers of what makes sense, but is measured minei u'bei against the halacha itself. The reason eid zomein is a chiddush is because it flies in the face of the halachic rule of trei u'trei that says contradictory testimony of pairs of witnesses result in a draw. The halacha has to carve out an exception to its own *internal* set of rules and invent this new category called hazamah to avoid that conclusion. The machlokes Abayei and Rava boils down to a debate over to what degree hazamah is really just another flavor of trei u'trei (in which case it is a chiddush) and to what degree it is not. That machlokes has nothing to do with the "ta'amah d'kra" (if you will) explanation of how we can make sense of this parsha of hazamah relative to external sets of rules (our own sense of justice), which is the issue the Rishonim are addressing.
This is a thumbnail sketch of a complicated sugya and I've greatly oversimplified the machlokes Abayei and Rava (Abayei may in fact agree that eid zomeim is a chiddush, but simply disagree with the ramifications Rava draws from that in the sugya). That's a shiur for another time.
The Derashos haRan gives another interesting reason. If Witness Group A wanted to lie, they could in theory pick any day of the week and any time of day and claim that is when they saw Reuvain steal. Witness Group B does not have the same luxury. They have to testify about the time and place set by Witness Group A. There is no wiggle room for them to concoct a story about that precise date/time in advance and hope no one can prove them wrong.
So the law of eidim zomimim makes perfect sense, right?
Yet in Bava Kama 71 the gemara says according to Rava that eid zomem is a chiddush, i.e. something unexpected, outside the norm. Given the explanations given by the Rishonim, what makes believing the second witnesses unexpected? Isn't it the logical thing to do? True, Abayei disagrees with Rava, but it seems far-fetched to say that Abayei and Rava were arguing about whether the reasons given in the Rishonim are compelling and make sense or not.
This question is asked by my wife’s grandfather, but in truth the Lechem Mishneh (Hil Eidus ch 18) beat him to it (as he notes himself). I think we can answer the question by clarifying what this whole concept of a chiddush is. My thinking on this was driven by the discussion in ch 3 of R' Moshe Avigdor Amiel's introduction to his Midos l'Cheiker HaHalacha. Here's his reduction ad absurdum argument: if you define chiddush as something that defies logic or common sense, then you've just about obliterated the term because every pasuk in chumash is a chiddush. As the gemara itself says, “lamah li k’ra – sevara hu?” – if there is a pasuk that is needed to derive a din, it means by definition you would not know it based on sevara or common sense alone. So what do Chazal mean when they label only certain dinim as a chiddush? R' Amiel suggests that a chiddush is not measured against outside barometers of what makes sense, but is measured minei u'bei against the halacha itself. The reason eid zomein is a chiddush is because it flies in the face of the halachic rule of trei u'trei that says contradictory testimony of pairs of witnesses result in a draw. The halacha has to carve out an exception to its own *internal* set of rules and invent this new category called hazamah to avoid that conclusion. The machlokes Abayei and Rava boils down to a debate over to what degree hazamah is really just another flavor of trei u'trei (in which case it is a chiddush) and to what degree it is not. That machlokes has nothing to do with the "ta'amah d'kra" (if you will) explanation of how we can make sense of this parsha of hazamah relative to external sets of rules (our own sense of justice), which is the issue the Rishonim are addressing.
This is a thumbnail sketch of a complicated sugya and I've greatly oversimplified the machlokes Abayei and Rava (Abayei may in fact agree that eid zomeim is a chiddush, but simply disagree with the ramifications Rava draws from that in the sugya). That's a shiur for another time.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
a question on Rashi
The Ba'al haTurim takes up the question of why the Torah juxtaposes the parsha of shoftim with the previous parsha that speaks of the moadim. Sefas Emes explains that once we've discussed the shalosh regalim at the end of last parsha, the Torah moves to the remaining holidays, the yamim noraim. Shoftim = justice and judgment, the theme of the upcoming days of Rosh haShana and Yom Kippur. Hard to believe we are almost there.
I have one and the same question on two separate comments of Rashi:
1) Rashi identifies "reishis degancha" (18:4) as terumah and then adds that m'doraysa there is no shiur for terumah, however Chazal instituted different shiurim, one of the generous person, one for the average guy, and one for the less generous. Rashi goes yet a step further and gives us the asmachta source for this din.
2) In the same pasuk Rashi identifies "resihis geiz tzoncha" as the first shearing from one's sheep, and Rashi again adds that m'doraysa there is no shiur, but Chazal instituted a shiur and Rashi explains what it is and the source.
Why does Rashi need to discuss the issue of shiur in this context? What is lacking in understanding the peshuto shel mikra if one does not have that information? Furthermore, even if Rashi needs to tell us something about the shiur, does he need to go into detail about the source, the asmachta?
I don't have an answer. The question just occurred to me when I was reviewing the parsha and I can't think of anything (yet : )
I have one and the same question on two separate comments of Rashi:
1) Rashi identifies "reishis degancha" (18:4) as terumah and then adds that m'doraysa there is no shiur for terumah, however Chazal instituted different shiurim, one of the generous person, one for the average guy, and one for the less generous. Rashi goes yet a step further and gives us the asmachta source for this din.
2) In the same pasuk Rashi identifies "resihis geiz tzoncha" as the first shearing from one's sheep, and Rashi again adds that m'doraysa there is no shiur, but Chazal instituted a shiur and Rashi explains what it is and the source.
Why does Rashi need to discuss the issue of shiur in this context? What is lacking in understanding the peshuto shel mikra if one does not have that information? Furthermore, even if Rashi needs to tell us something about the shiur, does he need to go into detail about the source, the asmachta?
I don't have an answer. The question just occurred to me when I was reviewing the parsha and I can't think of anything (yet : )
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Ishbitzer on the dialogue between Michal and David haMelech
At the beginning of Re’eh when we first read about making a mishkan/mikdash, the Torah tells us, “…U’smachten b’chol mishlach yedchem atem u’bateichem,” (12:7) that you and your household will rejoice. The parsha then continues and relates that when you cross into Eretz Yisrael and establish a secure country you will build another mikdash, and there, “…U’smachtem lifnei Hashem Elokeichem atem u’bneichek u’bnoseichem v’avdeichem v’amhoseichem…” (12:12) you and your children and servants and maids will all rejoice. Here the Torah emphasizes that the simcha will not just be for you and your household, but will spread to the servants as well. Why the difference?
The Ishbitzer (Mei haShiloach vol 2) explains that the first pasuk is discussing the mishkan, “menucha”; the second pasuk is describing the Mikdash, “nachalah”. There was simcha in the avodah of the mishkan, but it had limits. You had to be on a certain madreiga to appreciate what was going on. The achievement of David haMelech, which culminated in his bringing the aron to Yerushalayim and expressing the desire to build the Mikdash that Shlomo would eventually construct, was to break those limits. The simcha of avodas Hashem would, through David, not only reach every individual, not only reach the sons and daughters of Klal Yisrael, but would even trickle down to the lowliest servant and maid as well.
With this background in mind we have a much deeper understanding of the dialogue between David and his wife Michal in Shmuel II ch 6. Michal saw the procession bringing the aron to Yerushalayim, and there was David, in the front, dancing and rejoicing like it was Simchas Torah and Purim all rolled into one. She scathingly chastised David, “Mah nichbad ha’yom melech yisrael asher niglah ha’yom l’einei amhos avadav…” What a day it is when the king of all of Israel exposes himself [like a fool] before the servants and maids! This is a simcha shel mitzvah – look at how you are acting and who you are sharing the experience with. To which David responds, “…V’im ha’amahos asher amart, imam ikabda,” I will in fact be honored by those very maidservants that you dismiss. David was telling Michal that it from the “amahos,” from the words “avdeicheim v’amhoseichem” that are written in our parsha in connection with Yerushalayim, his city, and not earlier, that he gets the most kavod. Spreading simcha even to the people on the bottom rungs of the ladder and helping them rejoice in the experience of avodas Hashem is not an embarrassment – it’s a tremendous accomplishment, one which the Torah singles out for praise. This was the hallmark of Yerushalayim, the Mikdash, of David haMelech.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
the two meanings of lo tisgodedu
In addition to the peshuto shel mikra meaning of the pasuk, "Banim atem la’Hashem Elokeichem lo tisgodedu v’lo tasimu korcha bein eineichem la’meis," (14:1) which prohibits a person from cutting his/her flesh as a mourning rite, Chazal (Yevamos 14) learn from this pasuk that there is a prohibition of making "agudos agudos." (Insert pun about not joining a certain organization here.) You can’t have a city where half the beis din says X and the other half says Y (or according to the other view in the sugya, you can’t have two batei din in the same city each of which presents a different view). We are supposed to be united, not divided into splinter groups each following its own path and doing its own thing.
It seems that these two halachos have absolutely nothing to do with each other, yet both somehow are rooted in the same words of the pasuk. While some (Mizrachi, Minchas Chinuch) learn that the issur of dividing into agudos is just an asmachta, the simple reading of the Rambam (Hil Aku"m ch 12) seems to indicate that both are d’oraysa, as he describes the issur of making agudos as "bichlal azhara zu…" How then, asks the Maharal, can the Torah lump together apples and oranges in the same words of the pasuk?
(This is one of many places that the Maharal makes an assumption worth taking a moment to spell out: the difference between pshat and derash is *not* that the former is rooted in the text while the latter is not. Both are intimately tied to the text; they simply relate to it on different levels. Therefore, derash cannot completely diverge from the plain meaning of the words and fly off in an opposite or completely different direction. There must be some relationship between the plain meaning of the words and the derash meaning latent in them.)
The Maharal answers by digging into the root reason behind both issurim. Rashi writes that the issur of cutting onself is because the Torah wants us to look nice. "Banim atem la’Hashem Elokeichem," and for G-d’s children to walk around with slashes in our skin is an embarrassment. (Parenthetically, I know in my son’s yeshiva the Rosh Yeshiva insisted that boys always have their shirts tucked in, but that is the exception. How many times do you see yeshiva bachurim in the street walking around like total shlumps? It may not violate the letter of this law, but it surely violates its spirit.) Ramban takes issue with Rashi. If the issur is a matter of appearance, then why does the issur only apply to cutting done as a response to death? Why not any dishevelment in response to any sorrow or tragedy? Rashi might not have been bothered by this problem because perhaps he viewed ta’amei hamitzvos as abstract philosophical ideas not meant to explain the details and parameters of dinim, or it could be that Rashi held that someone who would disfigure him/herself at something other than death is so outside the pale that batlah da'ato and that's why there is no issur. In any case, Maharal proposes something different. "Banim atem l’Hashem Elokeichem" means our relationship with Hashem is so close and special that something essential about him is reflected in us. One of the most fundamental things we can say about G-d is that he is one. The idea of cutting oneself into pieces when faced with tragedy and the idea of dividing the community into pieces are both antithetical to this idea of oneness. We have to reflect wholeness and unity within ourselves and within the community because this is G-d’s characteristic.
The Shem m’Shmuel quotes a similar idea from his father, the Sochotchover. The reason a person would beat himself up and go to pieces (literally) when confronted with death is because that individual sees the physical body as everything. Once the physical person is gone, there is nothing left -- the loss is total and unbearable. This emphasis on the tangible and physical to the exclusion of matters of the soul is the same underlying error that causes division in the community. If we were all focused on ruchniyus, on what matters, then there wouldn’t be "agudos agudos," factions fighting with each other. The issur redirects our values -- there is something that endures even after death; there are values greater than physical needs and wants that unite our community.
The Shem m’Shmuel asks what I think is a tremendous question against his father. Is "agudos agudos" really only because we are not focused on the spiritual? Beis Shamai vs. Beis Hillel – is that split into factions caused by these giants attuned to the "guf" instead of the "nefesh"? Impossible to believe. There can be deep and important disagreements even when both parties are only interested in "l’shem shamayim." I don't think this is any less true of disagreements between contemporary Rabbonim than it is of machlokes between Tanaim and Amoraim. I think that lesson is even more important to walk away with than the answer he gives, which you can look up inside : )
I want to offer one final suggestion to try to explain the common theme of these two halachos. Ibn Ezra writes that the reason one should not be overcome with grief and harm oneself in mourning is because "banim atem," we are like like little children who cannot understand what or why a parent does what he/she does. G-d's ways are unfathomable, and death is the ultimate mystery. There is a reason for loss, even if we cannot understand it, and that should at least give us some comfort. The takeaway lesson according to Ibn Ezra is that we never have full knowledge. How then can each camp of the agudos agudos dig their heels in and argue with such certainty that they alone are right and there can be no compromise with the other side? "Banim atem," it would be like little children arguing on the playground. The Torah expects us to rise above such pettiness. When each side recognizes that their position as well as that of the other side is of necessity borne of incomplete knowledge and understanding, then dogmatic certainty and inflexibility have no place, and two agudos can merge into one.
It seems that these two halachos have absolutely nothing to do with each other, yet both somehow are rooted in the same words of the pasuk. While some (Mizrachi, Minchas Chinuch) learn that the issur of dividing into agudos is just an asmachta, the simple reading of the Rambam (Hil Aku"m ch 12) seems to indicate that both are d’oraysa, as he describes the issur of making agudos as "bichlal azhara zu…" How then, asks the Maharal, can the Torah lump together apples and oranges in the same words of the pasuk?
(This is one of many places that the Maharal makes an assumption worth taking a moment to spell out: the difference between pshat and derash is *not* that the former is rooted in the text while the latter is not. Both are intimately tied to the text; they simply relate to it on different levels. Therefore, derash cannot completely diverge from the plain meaning of the words and fly off in an opposite or completely different direction. There must be some relationship between the plain meaning of the words and the derash meaning latent in them.)
The Maharal answers by digging into the root reason behind both issurim. Rashi writes that the issur of cutting onself is because the Torah wants us to look nice. "Banim atem la’Hashem Elokeichem," and for G-d’s children to walk around with slashes in our skin is an embarrassment. (Parenthetically, I know in my son’s yeshiva the Rosh Yeshiva insisted that boys always have their shirts tucked in, but that is the exception. How many times do you see yeshiva bachurim in the street walking around like total shlumps? It may not violate the letter of this law, but it surely violates its spirit.) Ramban takes issue with Rashi. If the issur is a matter of appearance, then why does the issur only apply to cutting done as a response to death? Why not any dishevelment in response to any sorrow or tragedy? Rashi might not have been bothered by this problem because perhaps he viewed ta’amei hamitzvos as abstract philosophical ideas not meant to explain the details and parameters of dinim, or it could be that Rashi held that someone who would disfigure him/herself at something other than death is so outside the pale that batlah da'ato and that's why there is no issur. In any case, Maharal proposes something different. "Banim atem l’Hashem Elokeichem" means our relationship with Hashem is so close and special that something essential about him is reflected in us. One of the most fundamental things we can say about G-d is that he is one. The idea of cutting oneself into pieces when faced with tragedy and the idea of dividing the community into pieces are both antithetical to this idea of oneness. We have to reflect wholeness and unity within ourselves and within the community because this is G-d’s characteristic.
The Shem m’Shmuel quotes a similar idea from his father, the Sochotchover. The reason a person would beat himself up and go to pieces (literally) when confronted with death is because that individual sees the physical body as everything. Once the physical person is gone, there is nothing left -- the loss is total and unbearable. This emphasis on the tangible and physical to the exclusion of matters of the soul is the same underlying error that causes division in the community. If we were all focused on ruchniyus, on what matters, then there wouldn’t be "agudos agudos," factions fighting with each other. The issur redirects our values -- there is something that endures even after death; there are values greater than physical needs and wants that unite our community.
The Shem m’Shmuel asks what I think is a tremendous question against his father. Is "agudos agudos" really only because we are not focused on the spiritual? Beis Shamai vs. Beis Hillel – is that split into factions caused by these giants attuned to the "guf" instead of the "nefesh"? Impossible to believe. There can be deep and important disagreements even when both parties are only interested in "l’shem shamayim." I don't think this is any less true of disagreements between contemporary Rabbonim than it is of machlokes between Tanaim and Amoraim. I think that lesson is even more important to walk away with than the answer he gives, which you can look up inside : )
I want to offer one final suggestion to try to explain the common theme of these two halachos. Ibn Ezra writes that the reason one should not be overcome with grief and harm oneself in mourning is because "banim atem," we are like like little children who cannot understand what or why a parent does what he/she does. G-d's ways are unfathomable, and death is the ultimate mystery. There is a reason for loss, even if we cannot understand it, and that should at least give us some comfort. The takeaway lesson according to Ibn Ezra is that we never have full knowledge. How then can each camp of the agudos agudos dig their heels in and argue with such certainty that they alone are right and there can be no compromise with the other side? "Banim atem," it would be like little children arguing on the playground. The Torah expects us to rise above such pettiness. When each side recognizes that their position as well as that of the other side is of necessity borne of incomplete knowledge and understanding, then dogmatic certainty and inflexibility have no place, and two agudos can merge into one.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
rules or guidelines?
1) The Torah writes that if you have a large amount of ma’aser sheni produce to bring to Yerushalayim you can convert it to cash and bring money instead. “Ki yirbeh mimcha ha’derech ki lo sochal se’eiso ki yirchak mimcha hamakom… ki y’varechicha Hashem Elokecha.” (14:24). Rashi comments on ki y’varachicha – “she’t’hey hatevu’ah merubah la’seis.” The words of the pasuk itself tell us that we are speaking of a case where the farmer is blessed with too much to carry -- what is Rashi adding?
Maybe there is a better answer, but what came to my mind is the machlokes between the Rashbam (Baba Basra 122) and the Chasam Sofer (Shu”T Y.D. 234, see here point II) whether having a portion of land closer to Yerushalayim is better, since Yerushalayim is the holiest place, or whether having a portion further away is better because then one gets more schar for travel. Rashi is perhaps emphasizing that the bracha the pasuk is speaking of is davka having so much fruits, but the fact that you live far from Yerushalayim, “ki yirbeh mimcha ha’derech,” and have to shlep everything to get there and maybe earn extra schar for the journey, is not itself a bracha.
2) “Al kein ani metzavcha leimor, ‘Paso’ach tiftach es yadcha…’” (15:11). Rashi: “eitzah l’tovascha anu masi’acha.” True, there is a seemingly unnecessary “leimor” (see Gur Aryeh), but nonetheless, how can “metzavecha” be interpreted to mean good advice? Doesn't the word “tzivuy” mean a rule, not a guideline?
Sunday, August 09, 2015
don't forget the rest of the story
In discussing the choice before Senator Schumer as to whether to support Obama y'mach shemo's Iran deal or not, I've seen many people make reference to Mordechai's statement to Esther that whether or not she chooses to plead for her people or not, the Jews will be saved -- the only question is whether she will be the instrument of their deliverance and be recorded for posterity as their savior or whether she will fail to seize the opportunity and be forgotten. I have yet to see anyone make reference to continuation of the story. Esther agrees to intercede, but she asks something of Mordechai and the Jewish people. She requests that people fast for three days, a massive expression of teshuvah to Hashem that would bolster her odds of success. Senator Schumer has made his choice. The ball is in our court to do our part. Hishtadlus, attending rallies, calling Senators and Congressmen and Congresswomen -- all great things. But teshuvah, tefillah, tzedaka are also needed. You can ask for anything you want in shema koleinu three times a day in davening. I would be afraid to do a poll in shul and ask how many people have added into their tefilos a request for Hashem to help avert this danger. What is everyone waiting for?
I read a lot of what some would call right-wing blogs and news sites (I call them sane or common sense). So many comments I have read online and heard on the radio reiterate the same theme: 75% of Jews supported Obama. We elect the Schumers of the world, the Gillibrands. We constantly support the Democrat party. We made this bed, not it's ours to enjoy sleeping in. What can you say to that argument? On the one hand, good for Dershowitz for coming to speak at the rally in Time Square; on the other hand, how many times have I written what a fool he (and others like him) is for criticizing Obama, but then supporting him and other Democrats every election cycle, without fail. I can't remember the last time I voted for anyone with a D next to his/her name running in a national election. But I am in the extreme minority. Our community needs to wake up.
Last point: Who doesn't recognize the code words when President Y'mach Shemo talks about money and lobbyists who control Congress? I'm glad at least Tablet Magazine is not afraid to it what it is: outright anti-Semitism. Too bad no one else has the guts and courage to stand up and say that talk like this is not acceptable from anyone, even the President of the United States.
I read a lot of what some would call right-wing blogs and news sites (I call them sane or common sense). So many comments I have read online and heard on the radio reiterate the same theme: 75% of Jews supported Obama. We elect the Schumers of the world, the Gillibrands. We constantly support the Democrat party. We made this bed, not it's ours to enjoy sleeping in. What can you say to that argument? On the one hand, good for Dershowitz for coming to speak at the rally in Time Square; on the other hand, how many times have I written what a fool he (and others like him) is for criticizing Obama, but then supporting him and other Democrats every election cycle, without fail. I can't remember the last time I voted for anyone with a D next to his/her name running in a national election. But I am in the extreme minority. Our community needs to wake up.
Last point: Who doesn't recognize the code words when President Y'mach Shemo talks about money and lobbyists who control Congress? I'm glad at least Tablet Magazine is not afraid to it what it is: outright anti-Semitism. Too bad no one else has the guts and courage to stand up and say that talk like this is not acceptable from anyone, even the President of the United States.
Thursday, August 06, 2015
the first parsha of shema vs. the second
There are two differences between the first parsha of shema and the second that stand out: 1) “b’chol m’odecha” appears only in the first parsha but not the second; 2) the second parsha mentions rewards for serving G-d and punishments for disobeying, but the first parsha doesn’t.
The Meshech Chochma (based on a Chazal) explains that these two parshiyos are speaking to two different groups of people. Klal Yisrael is blessed with people who can devote themselves to the ideal (and we should recognize that it is an ideal) of complete immersion in Torah study 24x7. Klal Yisrael is also blessed with people who do mitzvos and live k’halacha, but who are not so immersed in talmud Torah. The first parsha of shema speaks to the Torah-only ideal. Here, the Torah demands, “b’chol m’odecha,” 110%. All a person’s wealth, all a person’s abilities, need to be dedicated to G-d. The same demand cannot be made on the masses who follow the second route. Similarly, the promise/threat of reward/punishment appears only in the second parsha and not the first is because it is the masses, not the Torah-only dedicated scholar, who need these extra incentives. If one is devoted to full time Torah study, there is the promise of “ohr she’bah machziran l’mutav,” that even if one goes astray, Torah study itself has the power to draw a person back. No other incentive in needed.
The gemara (Brachos 35) quotes a machlokes between R’ Shimon bar Yochai and R’ Yishmael as to how to deal with the conflict between the need to study Torah and the need for parnasa. R’ Yishmael holds that a person needs to strike a balance – to learn when it’s time to learn, and to plant and harvest (or practice law, medicine, accounting, etc.), “v’asafta deganecha,” when it’s necessary to do other things. RSHb”Y disagrees and holds that a person should aim for Torah-only. What does RSHb”Y do with the pasuk of “v’asafta deganecha?” He answers that this pasuk is speaking about those who fail to follow “retzono shel Makom.”
Tosfos on the spot asks: how does this answer make sense? That pasuk appears in our parsha in the context of the reward for those who follow mitzvos!
Based on the Meshech Chochma’s approach, the explanation is clear. It is precisely the fact that the pasuk appears in our parsha, the second parsha of shema, and not the first, which indicates that it is speaking to the less than ideal state. Relative to the high standard of Torah-only that the first parsha speaks to, this second parsha is not the “retzono shel Makom.”
The gemara (Shabbos 10) tells us that RShb”Y would not interrupt his learning to daven, but the gemara concludes that this practice should be followed only for those like himself who were completely dedicated to learning. The rule of “osek b’mitzvah patur min ha’mitzvah” normally doesn’t apply to talmud Torah – you wouldn’t say someone immersed in learning does not have to stop to take a lulav, hear shofar, etc. (Parenthetical question: why?) Why then should it apply to tefillah? Why did RShb”Y not stop learning to daven? The answer might be that the mitzvah of tefilah stems from the words “l’avdo b’chol l’vavchem” that appear in the second parsha of shema. RShb”Y held that this parsha is speaking only to those who are not dedicated full time to talmud Torah, who are not living the ideal of Torah-only. For those like himself who are, there is no mitzvah.
Why do Chazal describe the first parsha of shema as kabbalas ol malchus shamayim and the second parsha as kabbalas mitzvos? The second parsha mentions the mitzvah of ahavas Hashem, but so does the first. It mentions the mitzvah of tefillin, but so does the first. Same for mezuzah. What’s the difference? The Shem m’Shmuel answers that the difference is this mitzvah of “l’avdo…” that only appears in the second parsha. If you recognize what malchus shamayim is all about, then it’s not “avodah” and you don’t feel like an “eved.” That’s a notch down, it’s kabbala sol mitzvos, but it is not the full kabbalas ol of the first parsha.
The Torah promises that in Eretz Yisrael, “lo b’miskanus tocahl bah lechem,” (8:9) you won’t be eating bread like a poor person. Ksav Sofer writes that the point is not that we will be eating prime ribs. The point is that we will be eating bread, but not out of poverty – we will be eating bread because “pas b’melach tochal,” the way to succeed in learning is to be happy with less and not indulge in luxury. A person can do without by choice, not only by necessity. Making the choice to do so is part of the commitment to the Torah-only ideal. The Torah continues and promises that even if you are eating just plain bread, “v’achalta v’savata,” you will be just as satisfied as if you had the prime ribs, “u’barachta es Hashem Elokecha,” you will thank Hashem.
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