Yosef and Yehudah -- oil and menorah

We have been reading these past two weeks about the tragic descent of Yosef, who is first thrown into a pit by his brothers, then sold into slavery, where he is falsely accused by Eishes Potifar and thrown into prison, and then, just as he thinks he has found someone who can help win his release, he is promptly forgotten about by the Sar haMashkim the moment the Sar steps out of prison himself.  And so we find Yosef languishing in prison, seemingly with no hope of escape.  All that is about to change as Yosef is called out of prison to interpret Pharoah's mysterious dreams.  “Va’yiritzuhu min ha’bor” -- Rashi struggles to explain the use of the term “bor” in place of was called in last week’s parsha a “beis ha’sohar.”  Why change terms?  The Zohar solves the problem by reading the pasuk as bringing our narrative fill circle.  The pasuk is not referring to the prison, but rather is referring back to the original pit, that bor where he brothers threw him.  Yosef is on the way out of that pit, on the way to reconciliation with his brothers and fulfillment of his own dreams.

In last week’s parsha (sorry for no post last week – bad cold) the Torah interrupted the Yosef-narrative with the story of Yehudah and Tamar.  There is a parallelism between the stories: both Yosef and Yehudah are rejected by their brothers (as Rashi explains, when the brothers saw the pain caused by Yehudah's plan of selling Yosef they removed him from his position of leadership); both are tempted by women; both Tamar and Eishes Potifar according to Chazal had intentions l’shem shamayim.  Ultimately both narratives intersect in next week’s parsha (will be away from home so probably no post then either) -– VaYigash eilav Yehudah -– and come to a resolution.  From a literary perspective the story is a work of art; if I remember correctly Robert Alter has a wonderful chapter on this whole episode in his book The Art of Biblical Narrative. 

The pshat / narrative relationship between the two stories clues us in to dig deeper into what is going on here.  Malbi”m explains Yehudah’s relationship with Tamar leads to the birth of children from whom will stem the lineage of Mashiach ben David.  At the very moment that the story of Yosef’s sale to Egypt portends our descent into exile, the seeds of redemption are being planted!  At the same time that we are reading of Yosef coming into Egypt, which serves as the paradigm for our physical survival in alien galus culture, we are reading about Yehudah, who keeps the spiritual promise of redemption burning.

This contrast can help us understand another element of the story that will come up in next weeks' parsha.  Rashi tells us that Yaakov sent Yehudah ahead to establish a yeshiva in Goshen before the family arrived.  Why did he need to send Yehudah?  Why not entrust the job to Yosef, who was already there?

We all know that Chanukah celebrates the miracle of the Chashmonaim finding a pure jug of oil that stayed lit for 8 days.  But what about the menorah itself?  Chazal (Menachos 28) tell us that the Chashmonaim did not have the solid gold menorah of the Mikdash; they were forced to light with a plain metal menorah.  Why did a miracle happen to preserve a jug of pure oil, even though technically tumah hutra b’tzibur and any oil could be used, but no miracle happened to ensure the integrity of the menorah itself?

Rav Kook suggests an answer that I am going to take the liberty of reformulating to fit our theme: oil = the spiritual light of Judaism = Yehudah.  Menorah = the physical structure that the light rests on = Yosef.  Yosef looks like an Egyptian, talks like an Egyptian, dresses like an Egyptian –- like a chameleon, he changes his colors to blend in with his environment.  By doing so he is able to become “hu ha’mashbir” who provides for his brothers, and indeed, ensures all of Egypt’s survival during years of famine.  Yehudah, on the other hand, remains in Canaan with his father and brothers.  Yehudah is even willing to sacrifice himself rather than allow Binyamin to be taken into the alien Egyptian society.

When it comes to our material survival, especially in galus, external trappings don’t really matter that much.  Even if the menorah of gold is not available, we can make due with second best.  You can dress like an Egyptian and talk like an Egyptian and still make it.  But when it comes to our spiritual inner core, there are no compromises.  Only the purest of the pure will ever be acceptable. 

On Shabbos we are about to enter the month of Teves.  The Ch haRI”M explains the name Teves comes from the same root as “ha’tavas ha’neiros,” cleaning out the wicks and preparing the menorah for new candles to be lit.  Teves is not the ohr itself -– it’s the physical preparation needed to make ready to receive the ohr.  It’s the Yosef of the story -- “Tvoach tevach v’hachaein,” Yosef commands in our parsha; take the last letter of tevach and the letters of hachein and it spells Chanukah--- laying the physical groundwork upon which a Yehudah can flourish.   Tavas = Aramaic for “tov.”  Not lashon kodesh, because, like Yosef, the “tov” has to dress itself up in the garb of Aramaic.  Teves is the start of the three month period (Teves, Shevat, Adar) where Tziporah had to hide Moshe Rabeinu from the world because the Egyptians counted on a 9 month pregnancy and didn’t realize he would be born early.  Moshe is there, just hidden; Yosef is behind that Egyptian dress, he is just in disguise.  Cleaning out the dirty wicks ain't pretty, but underneath the grime is a pnimiyus of tov preparing the way for those new wicks to produce the ohr.

Yisrael / Yaakov

Let me start with an observation of the Chasam Sofer (d"h va'yivaser Yaakov):


Yaakov managed to wrestle with Eisav’s angel (see Malbi”m who says this is not some external enemy, but is the darker side within Yaakov himself -– a very modern reading) and win and as a result he is given the name Yisrael.  Right after that it seems that the wheels fall off the bus.  First comes the parsha of Dinah.  That is followed by the death of Devorah, the nursemaid of Rivka, as well (according to Chazal) as Rivka herself.  Yaakov resumes his travels only to have Rachel die in childbirth.  Finally we have the sin (or non-sin, as Chazal read it) of Reuvain being “bilbeil yetzuei aviv,” whatever that means.  
 
What happened?  How can so much unravel so quickly after Yaakov reached such heights?

Second point: once the Torah tells us that “Va’yisa Yisrael va’yeit ohalo mei’hala l’Migdal Eider,” the beginning of the next pasuk, the phrase that introduces the episode with Reuvain, “Va’yehi bishkon Yisrael ba’aretz ha’hi…” seems entirely redundant.  (34:21-35:1)  Absent any indication that Yaakov had moved elsewhere, we would automatically assume that the story took place in the previously mentioned location.  What is the Torah adding?

Netziv explains that the Torah is not talking here about Yaakov’s physical location -– it’s talking about his mental space.  Yisrael = the higher plane of Yaakov’s being, the aspect of his consciousness most connected with G-d.  “Va’yisa Yisrael” –- Yaakov’s head was travelling in the clouds in a positive sense.  He was trying to reconnect to G-d after the death of his mother.  “Vayishkon Yisrael” –- Yaakov was engaged in hisbodedus and hisbonenus, reconnecting with the Shechina.  Had it been me saying the next sentence  you would all jump on me, but it’s not me, it’s the Netziv: it’s precisely because Yaakov was so removed from the daily concerns of olam ha’zeh, precisely because he was caught up in being Yisrael at the expense of his being Yaakov, that Reuvain was able to get into trouble right under his nose.

The gemara darshens that one who calls Avraham by the name Avram has violated an issur.  However, even though Yaakov’s name was changed to Yisrael, his old name still remains in use.  Shem m’Shmuel quotes his father the Sochotchover as explaining that the root of the name Yaakov = EKV, heel, the lowest of low in a human being.   Living on the highest plane, being Yisrael, is possible not in spite of, but aderaba, because of the connection that remains to that level of Yaakov, of recognizing one’s own shortcomings, limits, and failures.

If you become Yisrael but drop the Yaakov, then the wheels inevitably fall off the bus.

A little rant you can skip: If you open any Jewish newspaper these days, you have to admire our accomplishments as Yisrael.  Do you remember when the siyum ha’shas was held in MSG?  Back in those days they didn’t even think that they would even fill the Garden.  Now, there will be spillover because even MetLife Stadium cannot hold all the participants. We’re doing great, aren’t we!  More people learning, more yeshivos, more Torah. 

Make no mistake about it, it is a great thing.  But at the same time, we’ve lost site of the fact that outside our little bubbles , whether it be Teaneck, the 5Towns, Boro Park, Lakewood etc., there is a world of Jews who are just plain Yaakovs and barely that, and there is utter decimation and chaos.  Considering the lack of basic Jewish education and the intermarriage rate, what are the odds of the grandchildren of young assimilated American Jews today retaining any vestige of their jewishness, or even being Jewish at all, in two generations?  There is a complete disconnect between the world we live in –- not just on issues of halacha, but even on "political" issues like support of the State of Israel --  and the world they live in.  Yisrael -– the middle letters spell "rosh" -– is completely cut off from Yaakov = eikev, the heel.  That is a very, very bad thing for them, and for us as well.

dont wait for the pitchforks

1) My wife made the following observation:  Yaakov is the model of the Jew in galus.  The Torah tells us that when Yaakov heard Lavan’s sons murmuring accusations against him, he realized that it was time to leave.  He didn’t wait for them to sharpen the pitchforks and come after him.

Listen to the rhetoric of the Labour party.  Listen to the rhetoric of the Democrat party.  Listen to the reports of what is already happening in France, in Belgium, in other parts of Europe.  Don’t wait for the pitchforks.

2) “V’atah haloch halacha ki nichsof nishsafta l’beis avicha lamah ganavta…” (31:30)

Chasam Sofer asks mah inyan the reisha of the pasuk to the seifa of the pasuk.  What does Yaakov wanting to return to his father’s house have to do with the theft of the terafim?  One surely does not excuse the other or explain the other.

He gives a pilpulistic answer, but the Rishonim are already bothered by this question and explain al pi peshat that Lavan was saying that he understood that Yaakov ran out not because he was a thief, but because he was so anxious to get back to this father’s house.  Nonetheless, the terafim were missing and Yaakov or someone in his family must have taken them.

Rav Drook quoted a nice explanation of the pasuk b’shem R’ Shimon Shkop, but the idea is already found in the Malbim.  Imagine a kollel guy who spends pesach with his in-laws and when it's time to return home he packs up their large screen TV along with his own luggage.  When the shverr runs after him to ask what's going on, it’s not the theft per se which is so troubling -– the shverr can afford another large screen TV.  What bothers him more is what someone who ostensibly is immersed in Torah would need a large screen TV for.  Here too, Lavan was saying to Yaakov Avninu, “You claim to be so anxious to leave here and return to your holy father’s house.  Avodah zarah is an anathema to your father!  So why did you walk out with my idols in your trunk?”  It’s the hypocrisy which stings and stinks more than theft itself.

You don't have to actually walk out with the TV to be guilty of theft.  Sometimes it's the deyos and ideas of the outside world that we steal and bring into our world even though they are completely incongruous with what our lifestyle should be.

persuasion, not coercion

I know at least I am starting off with a good question when I find myself following in the footsteps as R' Eliezer Eisenberg, who was also bothered by the problem that troubled me when I was going over the parsha:

After Yaakov had a dream where he received nevuas Elokim that told him to leave Lavan, why did he seek Rachel and Leah's advice and consent about leaving?

Please see his post.  While he brings achronei ha'meforshim that address this, I turned back to some of the rishonim:


Ralbag writes that the whole point of the Torah telling us this story is to teach us that one should not impose one’s will on one’s household through coercion, but rather one should try to explain and persuade so that others willingly follow.  (Sounds like a good lesson for kiruv, or for dealing with not-yet-religious members of our community -- persuade, encourage, but don't knock people over the head with a rolling pin.)  It was only after he first explained why he wanted to leave that Yaakov then added, by-the-way, that a malach also told me to leave.  Yaakov did not want that to be the primary reason for Rachel and Leah to listen to him, but he also did not want to omit it entirely because he wanted his wives to also get credit for obeying the dvar Hashem. 

(This last point is very interesting as it implies that had Rachel and Leah just agreed to go for logical reasons without knowing the nevuah, it would not have been enough -- they also had to act with deliberate intent to fulfill ratzon Hashem.  Tzarich more iyun into this.)

A clue to another possible answer can be found in a Seforno at the end of this episode.  Rachel and Leah say to Yaakov, “Kol asher amar Elokim eilecha aseh,” (31:16) whatever G-d wants you to do, go ahead and do it.  Seforno comments: “Kol asher amar Elokim – bilvad aseh.  N’hag v’leiuch v’al titol reshus.”  Meaning, G-d told you to leave, so do exactly and just what G-d said –- leave.  Don’t make a goodbye party, don’t ask for permission, just follow the instructions and walk out the door.

I hopefully am not reading too much in, but it sounds to me like Yaakov’s discussion with Rachel and Leah was not about whether they should leave – the answer to that was dictated by the malach -- but rather the discussion was about how they should make their departure.  Imagine an angel came and told you to quit your job.  Does that mean walk out the door same day, or does that mean give two weeks notice?  There is wiggle room to interpret it either way.  So Yaakov, being a good husband, especially in this case where the issue revolves around the in-laws, does what any good husband would do – they ask their wife for advice.

Lastly, Abarbanel has a hard to digest comment that he makes not in direct response to this question, but which touches on it anyway.  He writes in connection with Yaakov’s discussion with Rachel and Leah that “lo haya lo koach la’leches im lo b’ratzon nashav v’cheftzeihen v’da’atan” – he would not have had the strength to leave if not for his wives’ consent and it being in accord with their wishes.  Hard to fathom what he means – Yaakov would not have obeyed the nevuah had Rachel and Leah protested? I don’t see how you can say that about Yaakov Avinu, but that's what Abarbanel writes. 

reputational risk

The parsha relates that when Yaakov’s flocks increased dramatically in size because of all the spotted and speckled sheep being born, the children of Lavan began to complain that Yaakov’s riches were earned off Lavan’s back and Yaakov had taken his wealth from their father.  No matter that Yaakov had separated off Lavan’s sheep to make sure there was no mixing between the flocks, they still grumbled.

The parsha then continues that Yaakov noticed that Lavan himself now looked askance at Yaakov (31:2).  Yaakov then knew, and was told by Hashem, that it was time to leave.

What changed?  Despite being tricked into marrying Leah, despite being forced to work for years to even earn the right to marry Rachel and Leah, despite being constantly cheated and having the terms of his employment constantly changed (31:41), for 20 years Yaakov tolerated it and did not just walk out the door.  What now suddenly made things worse, made things unbearable?

An amazing Seforno: “Va’yar Yaakov es pnei Lavan – ra’ah she’kibel es ha’lashon ha’ra.” 
A crook, a cheat, a ganav, someone who doesn’t play fair –- that Yaakov can live with.  A ba’al lashon ha’ra -– now all bets are off.  That’s too much.

You could turn this into a mussar vort on the chomer ha’issur of lashon ha’ra vs other issurim, but maybe the pshat is simpler than that.  In business there is something called reputational risk.  A potential loss of $ is bad, but even worse than that is a potential loss of trustworthiness or credibility.  You can always make more $, but it’s not so easy to recover one’s good name once it is lost.  Yaakov could tolerate to some degree losing money, wages, etc.  However, once Lavan’s children began to attack his reputation, his trustworthiness, that he could not abide.  “Titein emes l’Yaakov” -– to Yaakov, his credibility was the most precious commodity and one he refused to put it at risk.

for those who said tein tal u'bracha tonight (dec 4)

See Yabi'a Omer  vol 5 siman 15: since in Eretz Yisrael they have already been saying tein tal u'matar from 7 Cheshvan, if you make a mistake in chu"l and add it in when you weren't supposed to you don't have to go back and repeat.

(I would not have figured this out from reading O.C. 117:3.)

the smell of gan eden

When Yitzchak smelled the clothes of Yaakov, now dressed as Eisav, he called out , “R’ei reiach bni k’reich sadeh asher beiracho Hashem.” The simple pshat I think is, like Ibn Ezra writes, that Eisav’s clothes had absorbed the smell of the outdoors -– not outdoors like the smog of NY City, but outdoors like the fragrant smell of country fields.  But that’s not how Rashi explains the pasuk.  Rashi writes that there is no more repulsive odor than that of the hairy hides that Eisav wore.  The sweet fragrance that Yitzchak smelled was not Eisav’s clothes, but rather was the odor of gan Eden that entered with Yaakov.

Sefas Emes (5647) asks: but the pasuk says that it was Eisav’s smelly clothes -– “bigadav” --  which Yitzchak sniffed, not some holy smell of gan eden.  How can Rashi ignore what the text says and substitute something else in its place? 

The Sefas Emes suggests an approach that puts together two ideas we've learned in the past.  Lets start with a gemara in Shabbos 152 that we spoke about a few years ago:

The rabbis taught: "Return the soul to the Lord as clean as He gave it to thee." This is illustrated by a parable of a king who once gave to his attendants suits of clothes. The wise among them took care of them, kept them clean and folded, and used them on special occasions only. The fools put them on and performed their work in them. Naturally, the clothes became dirty. All at once, the king demanded the clothes back again. The wise men returned them clean and whole, but the fools returned them in a dirty and dilapidated condition. The king was well pleased with the wise men, and told them to depart in peace, and had their clothes stored; but the clothes of the fools he ordered to be sent to the washers, and the fools were sent to prison.

Chazal are not interested in when or how we do laundry.  What Chazal are speaking of is how we treat our neshoma.  Sefas Emes quotes from the Zohar that when a person learns Torah his neshoma is dressed in the garb of the ruach of gan eden; when a person does mitzvos he dresses his neshoma in the levush of the nefesh of gan eden; when a person has holy thoughts and aspirations, he merits a suit of the neshoma of gan eden.  A person can also dress the neshoma in the shmutz of olam ha’zeh and make it filthy.   What kind of levush will the neshoma have on it when it comes time for it to return it its maker?

We learn from  “v’kibadito…” that one’s dress on Shabbos has to be different than the way one dresses during the week.  (In certain locales that seems to mean that you wear a suit and tie to work during the week in order to look professional, but come to shul Shabbos morning in Dockers and a casual shirt because it’s the weekend. I don't think that's what Chazal meant...)  Chazal here too are speaking about the neshoma: if you want to absorb the me’ein olam ha’ba of Shabbos then the neshoma needs the appropriate levush. 

In contrast, Rav Ben Tzion Mutzafi writes in his derashos that it was only because Yaakov put on the garments of his brother Eisav that he  was able to utter the words “Anochi Eisav bechorecha.”  Even if, as Rashi explains, this was not a direct lie (Anochi = I am who am I, and “Eisav bichorecha” = Eisav is the bechor), Yaakov would still not have done it if not for his having slipped on the levushim of Eisav.

Anyone who has heard the Carlebach story “Shvartze Wolf” knows that a person’s neshoma can have an exalted levush in the next world, but in this world we don’t see it and don’t sense it.  Someone who is one of the 36 tzadikim can look like just a simple woodchopper or beggar.  It’s hard for a levush that is so holy to make an appearance down here in olam ha’zeh. 

To again borrow from an idea in an old post, when you walk in the door late Friday afternoon and you smell the cholent on the stove, you smell the fresh challah, the kugel, etc. it’s like it’s Shabbos already even though the candles have not been lit -– the whiff of what’s coming makes the Shabbos a reality.  When Shabbos departs we comfort ourselves with besamim –- we want to keep a whiff of Shabbos, of aliya, with us, even though the day itself is gone.  So too, even though the levush of a great person may not really visible in this world, we are still able to pick up a whiff that there is something special there. 

“Va’yarach es rei’ach begadav” –- Yitzchak did smell the scent of the hides, the smell of Eisav, a foul smelling odor, exactly as the words say.  This was the levush of a man of the fields, not a yosheiv ohalim.  This is the pshat, the surface meaning of what happened.  But along with that, Yitzchak got a whiff of something else, of gan eden.   Yitzchak detected that there was something more here, something below the surface, something that is beyond pshat, beyond the olam ha'zeh appearance of things.   Therefore, he gave his bracha. 

korban pesach and the bracha of the Avos

1) My wife pointed out that it's only natural that Yitzchak, about whom we read last week "Vayeitzei Yitzchak la'suach ba'sadeh," should have an affinity for Eisav, the "ish sadeh."  See her post here for (among other things) another interesting diyuk: Eisav is an "ish sadeh," but Yaakov is not called an "ish ohalim" -- he is an "ish tam," which also connects with Yitzchak, but you have to read her post for more on that.

2) Rashi writes that the two sheep which Rivka prepared for Yaakov to serve to Yitzchak  were the korban pesach and korban chagigah.  Malbi”m explains that Pesach is the time when we reach l’ma’alah min ha’teva.  There is no way barring supernatural intervention that Klal Yisrael could have escaped the bondage of Mitzrayim and there was no way based purely on merit that we deserved to escape.  “Halalu ovzei avodah zarah v’halalu ovdei avodah zarah.”  Pesach means destiny trumps zechuyus/chiyuvim.  The bracha of the Avos that Yitzchak was going to pass on was a bracha that transcended any and all obstacles. 

Avraham the CEO?

1) Many meforshim see the pasuk “v’Avraham zakein… v’Hashem beirach es Avhraham ba’kol,” (24:1) which prefaces the parsha of Eliezer’s quest to find a bride for Yitzchak, as a justification of Avraham’s actions.   Why did Avraham Avraham send Eliezer and not take charge of things himself?  Why the need to administer an oath to Eliezer?  And why send him far away to find a bride for Yitzchak –- was there no local girl who wanted to marry Yitzchak? 

Avraham was blessed “ba’kol” – he had it all.  Surely a rich and powerful man, a CEO, cannot ignore managing his enterprise in order to personally make a long journey that can be delegated to others (Netziv).  And surely someone rich and powerful needs to take precautions lest his delegate be pressured, bribed, coerced –- hence the oath administered to Eliezer to not succumb to any impediments (Seforno).  And surely anyone would gladly marry into such a powerful family. Sending Elizer to look elsewhere was not for want of shidduch offers, but was Avraham’s deliberate choice (Rashbam).

All this would be true of any rich and powerful man.  But truthfully, it's hard to think of Avraham in those terms.  Sefas Emes writes that what motivated Avraham was not really protecting his wealth and power.  The focus of the pasuk is not WHAT Avraham had -– fame, riches, etc. -- but rather HOW Avraham got all that: “HASHEM beirach es Avraham ba'kol"  Avraham is not merely a powerful CEO -– Avraham is G-d’s CEO.  It's not his personal business that Avraham is out to protect, but rather G-d's business -- the mission of bringing kvod shamayim into the world.  Therefore, it was critical for Eliezer to find the right girl.

No one can really argue with a straight face that since "Hashem beirach" therefore they will only date a girl who wears size 2 or less.  That's not an argument of an Avraham Avinu.  If you really think "Hashem beirach" and gave you whatever talent, whatever mission you have, and you need a mate to match those she'ifos, then dress size is not on the list of what you are looking for.  "Hashem beirach" means it's not about me -- I'm just a kli for some higher purpose.  That's the hakdamah to Eliezer's mission and the hakdamah to what to look for in a shidduch. 
2) Simple pshat in (25:5) “vayitein Avraham es KOL asher lo l’Yitzchak” is that Avraham gave everything in his possession to Yitzchak.  However, the very next pasuk  (25:6) tells us that he gave gifts to the bnei ha’pilagshim as well.  So what does it mean when it says “KOL asher lo?”




Instead of emphasizing the first word, Sefas Emes puts the emphasis on the last: “kol asher LO.”  What really belongs to a person?  What does a person really want to give over -- what can a person really give over -- to their kids?  It’s not the bank account, or the house, or the new car.  Hashem told Avraham at the start his journey: “Lech LECHA…  el ha’aretz asher ar’eka.”  This mission is “LECHA” –- it belongs to you Avraham; you own it.  When it comes time to leave the world, that's what Avraham passes on to Yitzchak, and that mission is what has been continuously passed on through the generations until it has reached us.   

blind to the truth

1. “Ain ha’Shechina shurah elah m’toch simcha” -– simcha is a prerequisite to receiving nevuah.  Shem m'Shmuel (last piece in 5671) points out that since Avraham received a revelation of a malach who told him to stop what he was doing even as he had the knife in his hand ready to shecht Yitzchak, it must mean that he was b'simcha to fulfill the dvar Hashem even at that moment!
  
The nisayon of the akeidah was not whether Avraham would do what Hashem asked or not.  Disobeying a direct tzivuy from Hashem was not an option.  The nisayon was whether he would obey b’zerizus and b’simcha or not.  We all want to do mitzvos.  But how are we doing them?  Are they a burden, or are they something we approach b'simcha, even when it is hard?

2. Last week I circled back to a question from an old post: once the sons-in-law of Lot saw the angels smite the people of Sdom with blindness, why did they laugh when Lot told them that these same angels would destroy the city?  They just saw an open miracle –- wouldn’t they at least want to hedge their bets and run?

Kli Yakar answers that when Lot spoke to his sons-in-law he told them that Hashem -– the name associated with midas ha’rachamim -– is going to destroy the city.  This they thought impossible.  Surely the midas ha’rachamim could not be used for an act of destruction.

To me this answer seems overly technical.  If you hear that the city is going to be wiped out, is it really the time to quibble over whether the right shem Hashem was used in the announcement? 

Shem m’Shmuel (5680) here too says something insightful: The sons-in-law of Lot may not have suffered physical blindness like those who attacked Lot’s home, but they nonetheless were afflicted with spiritual blindness.  A person who wants to shut out the dvar Hashem can literally see miracles, but due to their own stubbornness, or their lack of mindfulness to the message, it will make no impression.  Seeing requires not just open eyes, but an open heart and mind as well.

yashrus of the Avos

Chazal call sefer Braishes “Sefer haYesharim,” the Book of the Just.  A “yashar” is someone who doesn’t cheat, doesn’t steal, doesn’t act with malice – a straight shooter, a mentch.  While I would take it as a compliment if someone described me as a yashar, when we are speaking about the Avos, points out the Netziv, it’s a bit of an understatement.  Why don’t Chazal call it the Book of Tzadikim?  The Book of Avos? 

There is a collection of talks given by R’ Eli Sadan after the Rabin assassination in which he repeatedly quotes the answer of the Netziv: the Avos lived surrounded by idolaters and evil doers whose lifestyle and beliefs were diametrically opposed to everything the Avos stood for.  The lifestyle of Sdom was an anathema to Avraham.  Nonetheless, the Avos never lashed out with hatred and/or violence.  To the contrary, we find Avraham praying for G-d to spare Sdom, Avraham extending hospitality to wandering idol worshippers, Avraham making a treaty with Avimelech, etc.  They Avos treated everyone they came in contact with -- even those with whom they had profound disagreements -- with respect and dignity, with yashrus.  That's an even harder challenge than having tzidkus in avodah. 

When Bilam saw Klal Yisrael camped in the desert, he exclaimed, “Tamos nafshi mos yesharim” –- I want to be able to go to the grave like the yesharim of that nation.  Bilam was “s’sum ha’ayin,” he certainly knew that he was not a real navi and did not have even a small percentage of the tzidkus of the Avos.  He did not even have a hava amina that he could be like them in that way.  But he thought al kol panim that at least he is a yashar, a mentch – he has derech eretz.  However, when he saw Klal Yisrael and the mesorah of the Avos,  he realized that even in this regard he was wrong.  His conception of derech eretz was no match for the true yashrus that the Avos embodied. 

you don't have to be orthodox to appreciate shabbos

In light of this week being the Shabbos Project I wanted to mention two books I recently read, neither of which is by someone who identifies as Orthodox, but both of which have something to say about Shabbos.  Braided – A Journey of a Thousand Challahs by Dr. Beth Ricanati is not really about challah, but rather is about time.  In today’s world the demands of one’s job can easily prove overwhelming and crowd out the important things in life.  Faced with the problem, Dr Ricanati has for years now made a point of taking time out every Friday to bake her own challah.  This simple weekly ritual helped her reconnect with her values, with her children, with herself, not to mention that it made Friday night dinner with her family more delicious and nutritious.
24/6 The Power of Unplugging One Day a Week by Tiffany Shane, the creator of the “webby awards,” talks about the need to disconnect.  She and her family do a “tech Shabbos” every week.  They shut off their iphones and devices and keep the world at bay for a day.  She is not shomer Shabbos in the way we think of it, but she recognizes the need for a day of quiet to escape.

You don’t have to be Orthodox to recognize that in our day and age Shabbos is more important than ever.

Avos == there have to be tolados

“Ayei ha’seh l’olah?” Yitzchak asks Avraham Avinu.  Where is the sheep for the offering?  The Alshich quotes a Midrash Rabbah (ch 96) that Yaakov did not want to be buried in Mitzrayim because Yisrael is called a “seh,” a sheep –- “seh pezurah Yisrael” (Yirmiyahu 50) –- and Egyptians worship the seh.   What Yitzchak was asking is if he is schechted, then how will there ever be a Yaakov Avinu, the seh?  How will the mesorah of the Avos continue?

Forget how will there be a Yaakov Avinu – if Yitzchak is shechted, how will there be a Yitzchak Avinu?!

What makes the Avos into Avos is that there is no concern for self.  The concern is always for the future, for the continuity of Klal Yisrael.  “Avos – m’chlal d’ika tolados.”  (B"K2)

"yesod gadol b'avodas Hashem" from the Chiddushei haRI"M

Rashi writes that there were people who did not believe the story we learn in Midrash that Avraham had been miraculously saved from the burning furnace that Nimrod had thrown him into.  Maybe they thought Avraham had great PR, great marketing, and this was all an exaggeration.  G-d therefore made a miracle in our parsha and enabled the King of Sdom to miraculously escape from a lime pit during the war of 4 kings against 5.  Once people saw that miracle, they retroactively had faith in Avraham's escape as well.
     
Ramban asks: if anything, the fact that the king of Sdom was saved should weaken people's emunah, not strengthen it.  If even the King of the most wicked city on the planet can have an escape that defies natural explanation, then how is Avraham's escape a proof of his tzidkus, his philosophy, his vision?  

Mizrachi gives the answer that probably is pashut pshat in Rashi: people had no belief in the concept of a miracle occurring until they saw it happen to the King of Sdom.  Once they grasped that such a concept was real, they could believe something similar happened to Avraham.
 
Maharal in Gur Aryeh explains that had it not been for Avraham's intervention, "team Sdom" would have been routed in the war.  These kingdoms had been subjugated for years and their attempt at rebellion was a failure.  Had G-d wanted to help Sdom, the time for it to happen was long before the lime pit episode.  The only reason for the miracle, the only reason for King Sdom being saved, was because Avraham was now fighting on his side. 
     
The Chidushei haRI"M uses this question of Ramban to teach us something fundamental about faith.  If all that was in the news was the miracle of Avraham being saved from a furnace, something extraordinary that no one could help but marvel at, then accepting the truth of Avraham's message would be a no-brainer.  For faith to be real, there has to be a possibility to choose not to believe. 

For people to have "faith" / emunah in the miracle of Avraham's escape, there had to be a similar miracle that occurred to the King of Sdom in order to level the playing field.  Counter intuitively, there had to be something that would give people a reason not to believe in order for their faith in Avraham to be real. 
     
We find a similar idea in Ramban in sefer Shmos.  G-d did not remove Pharoah's bechira by hardening his heart, explains Ramban, but rather he restored his bechira.  If all you see is miraculous plagues, then choosing to obey G-d is a no-brainer.  G-d muted the influence the plagues had on Pharaoh by hardening his heart in order to give him the option to disobey, so that he would have a true choice.
     
Ch haRI"m ends with an interesting historical observation.  He writes that the "olam" says that when the Besh"T revealed himself to the world there was a big tumult on high because the scales had been massively tilted in favor of greater avodas Hashem.  Therefore, a certain "lamdan" (the word he uses) had to come on the scene to take the opposing side to the BesH"T to balance things out.  Wow.
     
Now for my 2 cents: you need look no further than next week's parsha to find an example which seems to undermine the whole basis of the Ch haRI"m's argument.  Is it really true that given the example of an undeniable miracle people have no choice other than to believe?  The sons-in-law of Lot witnessed masses of people who ganged up against Lot being stricken with blindness by the angels, yet they still mocked the idea that Sdom would be destroyed.  They were so confident that they did not even leave town just as a matter of hedging their bets.  Why didn't the overt miracle convince them?
        
You have a whole week to think about that (or read this post from a decade ago).  Maybe I'll come back to it next week.
        
On to another point regarding emunah, also from the Ch haR"M, a point which he calls "ikar gadol b'avodas Hashem," and which puts the previous idea in a different light.
     
Hashem promised Avraham that he will be the father of a great nation.  Avraham responds (15:6), "V'he'emin b'Hashem va'yachshiveha lo tzedaka."  Who is the "lo" referred to in the pasuk?  Rashi interprets the pasuk to mean that Hashem gave credit to "lo" = Avraham for his unquestioning belief in Hashem's promise.  Ramban disagrees with Rashi's pshat.  Does a great navi like Avraham get credit simply for belief?  Ramban instead argues that the pasuk means that Avraham gave "lo" = to Hashem credit for promising him children independent of his merit -- it was a pure act of love and benevolence.
     
Ch haRI"m combines elements of both peshatim to arrive at a third approach.  He reads "lo" as referring to Hashem, like Ramban, but he reads "va'yichashveha" as referring not to the promise of children, but rather to Avraham's faith in G-d, like Rashi. 
     
What comes out of this peshara is an amazing reading of the pasuk: Avraham was thanking Hashem and giving Him credit for giving him the strength to believe in Hashem's words. 
     
The first Ch haR"IM we learned gave the impression that belief is a product of free choice of the individual.  This Ch haRI"M sends us in a completely different direction and teaches that ultimately, belief is a gift bestowed by Hashem. 
     
I don't think there is a contradiction here.  In its initial stage a person feels that he/she is choosing to believe, to accept G-d.  At some point the person progresses in their faith to the point that they see everything as the product of yad Hashem, even their initial choice to accept G-d in the first place.  It seems paradoxical -- I don't know if I've done justice to the idea.  It's striking that both yesodos appear in the same parsha.

what can be accomplished in a week

This idea is relevant to aseres ymei teshuvah, but what can I do -- the idea only came up here in parshas Noach.
     
Subtract Rosh haShana and Yom Kippur and aseres ymei teshuvah amounts to one week.  One week to correct a year, a lifetime's work of mistakes!  How is that possible?
     
Rashi observes that at the beginning of the parsha Noach is called a "tzadik tamim," yet when Hashem appears to Noach to tell him to enter the ark he tells him that "oscha ra'isi tzadik lifanei," he is a tzadik -- Hashem leaves out the word "tamim."
     
Ksav Sofer offers an original explanation (see Rashi for a different explanation) for the discrepancy: Rashi writes that Hashem delayed the command to enter the ark until the after the seven days of mourning for Mesushelach were completed.  Mesushelach was a tzadik, so long as he was alive, the flood was held off.  Ksav Sofer adds that so long as Mesushelach was alive, Noach was also not held accountable for failing to rebuke the people or for failing to daven on their behalf.  Why should he have that responsibility when there was a tzadik like Mesushelach around?  However, once Mesushelach died, the world rested on Noach's shoulders.  Since Noach at that point still remained passive and did nothing, some of the shine of his tzidkus was lost.  He was no longer a "tzadik tamim," but merely a "tzadik."
     
Mesushelach lived 969 years -- he literally had hundreds of years to try to make an impression on the people around him, to arouse them to teshuvah.  When he died, Noach had one week to step in and fill his shoes before the flood hit.  Imagine a shul where the Rabbi has held the pulpit for decades and has not made a dent in raising the religious observance of the community, not for lack of effort, but for lack of a receptive audience.  The Rabbi passes away, and the assistant Rabbi must now step in.  Are you going to hold the assistant accountable for failing to reach the community mamesh during the week of shiva of his predecessor when his predecessor couldn't reach them in the decades he served?!  Here too, what kind of knock it is on Noach's tzidkus when he couldn't do anything in only a week when Mesushelach was no more successful in centuries?!
     
Yet the Torah doesn't see things that way.  Who knows what you can accomplish is a week of dedicated effort?  Remember, Hashem would have saved Sdom had there only been a minyan of tzadikim there.  Noach didn't have to reach the entire world -- he could have focused on one, on a handful, of people and that might have tilted the balance to prevent the flood. 

babbling Babel

 וַיֹּאמְר֞וּ אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־רֵעֵ֗הוּ הָ֚בָה נִלְבְּנָ֣ה לְבֵנִ֔ים וְנִשְׂרְפָ֖ה לִשְׂרֵפָ֑ה וַתְּהִ֨י לָהֶ֤ם הַלְּבֵנָה֙ לְאָ֔בֶן וְהַ֣חֵמָ֔ר הָיָ֥ה לָהֶ֖ם לַחֹֽמֶר׃
    
     וַיֹּאמְר֞וּ הָ֣בָה׀ נִבְנֶה־לָּ֣נוּ עִ֗יר וּמִגְדָּל֙ וְרֹאשׁ֣וֹ בַשָּׁמַ֔יִם וְנַֽעֲשֶׂה־לָּ֖נוּ שֵׁ֑ם פֶּן־נָפ֖וּץ עַל־פְּנֵ֥י כׇל־הָאָֽרֶץ׃
     
The Netziv points out that the first pasuk here seems entirely redundant.  Who cares about the process involved in building the migdal Bavel?  Who cares if is was made of bricks or sticks and stones? 
    
Netziv suggests that the Torah mentions the brick furnace because that furnace has significance -- according to the Midrash that is where Nimrod threw Avraham as punishment for Avraham's rejection of idolatry.  The problem with this approach is ikar chaseir min ha'sefer -- the Torah mentions the furnace, but leaves out the entire back story (see Netziv who addresses this issue).
    
Malbim and Seforno see the two pesukim as reflection two groups of people or two stages in a progression.  At first, people simply wanted something better than tents or straw huts to live in, so they said to each other, "How about we try this new thing called a 'brick?'"  Folks were then able to build houses, to build cities.  But then along came another group of people, or people reached another stage of working with this new technology called the "brick," and they said why should we stop at houses?  Let's build a great tower, let's set up a centralized administration of big government. The rest is history.  Technology, whether it is bricks or the interweb, needs to be carefully managed.  What starts out as a good thing that can fill a need can quickly become misused.
    
Looking a little closer at the pesukim here, what is striking is the amount of dialogue that is going on.  "Va'yomru ish el reyeihu..."  "Va'yomru ahav niveh lanu ir..."  Why not just tell us that the people made bricks, the people made a tower, etc.  Why introduce each stage by telling us that there was a conversation that took place?
    
Furthermore, when Hashem punishes the people, he says, "Hein am echad **v'safah achas** l'kulam v'zeh hachilam la'asos..."  Again, the focus is on language -- having one language is the cause of wrongdoing.  Why not ban hammers since they used hammers to build, or ban bricks, since it was the use of bricks that started this whole process?  Why is it language that is identified as the source of the problem?
    
Man was created as a "ruach m'malela," with the exceptional capability of speech.  I know someone who is constantly talking about their job: the work, the frustrations, future plans, etc.  The entire "ruach" that gives this person chiyus is invested in their job.  Instead of just a means to make a living, their job is their life.  What a person talks about is who they are.  (Hashem gave us Torah sheba'al peh to do with our mouths for a good reason.)  The dor ha'palagah was not just interested in using technology -- they were interested in talking about technology, in investing their chiyus and ruach into technology.  You can just picture one of the people there saying to the other, "Did you get the latest brick 2.0?  I mean, how can you live without it?"  It's the "va'yomru lo," not the bricks or buildings, not the ipad or the interweb which is the problem.  Therefore, Hashem's punishment was addressed at language, not at bricks or ipads.
    
Sefas Emes (5632 and a few other places) quotes a play on words: the teivah of Noach = words of Torah.  What the Sefas Emes does NOT mean is that a person should withdraw from the secular world into an ivory tower of holy books/words.  Aderaba, what he means (look it up!) is that everything in the world, even that which appears as secular, is really a teivah that contains within it a spark of G-dliness.  But you have to look inside -- outside is just a bilbul, a mabul, a flood that drowns out the true meaning of things.  This is what the dor ha'palaga missed.  They were focused on the outside -- they settled in Shinar=Bavel because their words were just a bilbul, just noise, just an endless parade of tweets and posts, but lacking any true meaning and content.  The Torah says to go into the teivah, go find depth in everything.  Do you think you can find depth in a 200 character dashed off comment? 

Euthyphro dilemma and Chavah's mistake

Something like 13 years ago I quoted a chakirah from the Shiurei Da’as (vol 2 "Bein Yisrael l'Amim): are the laws of the Torah that tell us good vs bad a giluy milsa to the way teva works, and punishment and reward are just natural outcomes, or is it the mitzvos themselves that make things good (=keeping the law) or bad (=violating it) and reward and punishment are decrees, not consequences. 















This is a very old issue that goes back to the ancient Greeks and is known as the Euthyphro dilemma: Is something holy (moral) because it is loved by the gods, or is it loved by the gods because it is holy (or moral)? 
We once used this to explain the sin of Chavah.  When Chavah said the eitz ha'da'as was "tov lma'achal" when she was in effect saying was that really, the tree by its nature is something good to eat, but G-d imposed a decree upon us preventing us from eating it.  

I started thinking about the same issue again this year.  Chavah mistakenly thought she was not allowed to touch the eitz hada'as.  Rashi writes (3:4) that the nachash pushed Chavah into the tree to show her that nothing would happen if she touched it, and therefore, he argued that nothing would happen if she ate from it either.

The Sifsei Chachamim asks: this reasoning makes no sense.  Chavah was pushed into the tree against her will -- it was a case of ones.  Of course she would not be liable for that.  How can that be compared to willingly eating from the tree?

It must be that Chavah assumed that the prohibitions having to do with the tree were built into its nature.  G-d was simply revealing how teva works.  If come in contact with acid, even if someone pushed you into it, the claim of ones doesn't help -- the acid will burn you anyway.  Similarly, Chavah thought that by its nature the eitz hada'as was toxic.  When the nachash proved to her otherwise, her mental castle fell apart. 

rav chessed v'emes -- hoshana rabbah

A few weeks ago when the Y"T season started we started saying slichos with the 13 midos ha'rachamim, "Hashem Hashem K-l rachum v'chanun... v'rav chessed v'emes."  I think most of us would say that we hope the court upstairs does not judge us based on the "whole truth and nothing but the truth," because then we would be in big trouble.  We want Hashem's thumb on the scale tilting it in our favor -- that's what chessed, rachum, chanun, is all about.  So how is it that "emes" is one of the 13 midos ha'rachamim?  How can truth possibly work in our favor?

The Maharal often distinguishes between properties of a thing that are b'etzem and those that are b'mikreh.  All the books on child rearing say never criticize the child -- only criticize the behavior.  Johnny is b'etzem a good boy, just right now b'mikreh because he hasn't had his nap and instead had 6 pounds of sugar candy he is acting like a monster. 

The Kohzhiglover says that's the pshat in our 13 midos.  Yes, we did aveiros.  But that's not the truth of who we are.  We're in galus, we're surrounded by all kinds of bad influences, we have all kinds of distractions -- b'mikreh, we end of sinning.  But b'etzem, if you look at who we really are, and it's only Hashem that can really see who we really are underneath all the bad behavior on the surface, then the "emes" is that we are innocent.

Hoshana Rabbah is 26 days after the creation of mankind.  25 Elul was the day man was created; we are now 26, gematriya shem Havaya, days later.  The shem Havaya means this day represents the real essence, the etzem, of who a person really us.  We know the 4 minim represent the 4 types of Jews, some with ta'am and reiach, taste and smell, Torah and mitzvos, and then you have the aravah that has nothing -- no taste, no smell, no Torah, no mitzvos.  Yet it's the aravah that we take in our hand and put in parade this day.  Even if you've got nothing, it doesn't matter -- that's b'mikreh. Today we focus on the etzem, and the etzem of a Jew is always good.

Ramban writes that positive things need to be translated into concrete action.  When a navi got a message, he often would do something concrete -- when the message is translated into something concrete, it becomes more real.  Sukkos has a multitude of concrete mitzvos for us to do -- lulav, esrog, sukkah.  Shmini Atzeres comes along and we have nothing.  At least on Shavuos we have cheesecake, but Shmini Atzeres doesn't even have that. 

Maharal writes that the number 8 represents going beyond teva.  7 days is the natural cycle of the world as it was created; 8 is outside the boundaries, outside the lines.  During Sukkos we want to bring the ruchniyus into our world so we need concrete mitzvos, kelim, to contain the ohr.  Shmini Atzeres is 8 -- we are outside the boundaries.  It's not about bringing ohr into the concrete world, but rather about bringing ourselves to a place outside the normal confines of teva, outside the concrete and finite that is the day to day of our lives.  Shmini Atzeres if the extra mile, the extra 10% of the 110% we need to give. 

fleishig bread

Most of the time we keep the bread on the table parve and the leftover challah makes for perfect French toast after Shabbos/yom tov.  It doesn't always work out, and so over Y"T we ended up with half a challah that was fleishig.  My wife put it away and later used it for a bread kugel. 

There is a din (Y.D. 97) that we don't bake milchig or fleishig bread to eat with a milchig or fleishig meal.  The reason is because one may get things mixed up and assume the bread is parve and end up eating either milchig bread with fleishigs or vice versa.  I found that the Badei HaShulchan not in that siman, but earlier in siman 91 (s.k. 17), asks why the same din does not apply to leftover bread -- why not say that once your bread became milchig or fleishig by coming in contact with things on the table that it has the same din as bread baked milchig or fleishig and cannot be eaten?  He notes that the minhag ha'olam is to do what we did and not throw out the bread, but he leaves it as a tzarich iyun as to how this works.

I hadn't thought about it before I saw his comment.

sukkah and Eretz Yisrael

The Mishnayos and gemara frequently use the term "going up" into the sukkah, e.g. the Mishna (2:5) says that Rabban Gamliel and R' Yochanan ben Zakai were brought food and they said "he'alum la'sukkah," bring it up to the sukkah. The simple explanation for the term is that the sukkot in the times of Chazal were built on roofs or balconies. However, al pi derush perhaps Chazal are hinting to us that going into the sukkah is a spiritual aliya (R' Avraham Shapira; see Bnei Yisaschar for a kabbalistic interpretation.)

I would like to suggest that there is an additional connotation to the term that Chazal might have had in mind. The Sefas Emes (5650, see R' Avrohom Schor in Lekach v'Libuv 5760/61) writes that the sukkah has connection to the kedusha of Ererz Yisrael. Similarly, the Radomsker in Tiferes Shlomo asks what happened to Hashem's promise at yetzi'as Mitzrayim to bring Klal Yisrael into Eretz Yisrael? Justice delayed is justice denied -- it took 40 years in the desert passed before we got to Eretz Yisrael!  The Radomsker answers that during those 40 years we had sukkos -- we were in fact living in the avir of Eretz Yisrael. Way back in 2007 I posted that as far as I can figure out (others in the comments disagreed) there are only2 mitzvos you can do while sleeping: 1) yeshivas sukkah; 2) yishuv Eretz Yisrael.  Like they say, half the job is just showing up; all you have to do is show up and be in the sukkah, be in Eretz Yisrael, and you've accomplished something.  Maybe that's why Chazal use the term aliya with respect to sukkah.  When we hear the term "aliya" we think of the mitzvah of going to Eretz Yisrael.  Maybe that's exactly what Chazal intended to remind us of when we enter the sukkah. 
    
The Tur writes that the holiday of Pesach corresponds to Avraham, Shavuos to Yitzchak, Sukkos to Yaa'kov. Pesach marks our formation as a nation. Shavuos marks our getting the Torah.  Yaakov made his sukkot when settled the outstanding feud with Eisav and returned home to Eretz Yisrael.  The three chagim stand for the three essential pillars that define us -- nationhood, Torah, and Eretz Yisrael.