So much is going on in the parsha, and there is no little time to write!
"Vayishlach Ya'akov malachaim el Eisav achiv..." I know -- wrong parsha. But not really -- as we'll see. "Im Lavan garti..." I fulfilled my mission. I kept Torah and mitzvos even in Lavan's home; I came away unscathed. I've achieved my tikun. Now that I've perfected myself, I can reach out to you, Eisav my brother, and help you maybe achieve your tikun. "Vayishlach Moshe malachim mi'Kadesh el Melech Edom..." (20:14). Moshe too sends messengers, and they come to the king of Edom and give him a history lesson. Look at how "achicha Yisrael," your brother Klal Yisrael suffered in Egypt until we were redeemed by G-d. Rashi suggests that Moshe emphasized brotherhood to hint to Edom that as brothers they should have shared the burden of slavery, but they did not -- only we carried that burden. Therefore, Edom, you owe us one. Meshech Chochma suggests that Moshe's point was that we were redeemed by G-d; we did not incite rebellion against Egypt. There is no danger of letting us pass through your country, Edom; we do not cause trouble. No executive order or wall is needed. But Sefas Emes recognizes the parallel language to Ya'akov's shlichus, a shlichus that reverberates throughout history. We suffered in Egypt and as a nation went through a process of tikun. We are on the way to fulfill our destiny. Maybe this time, Edom, you will help us and in doing so, help yourself achieve your own tikun.
G-d tells Moshe in our parsha to tell Aharon that his time has come. "Vaya'as Moshe ka'asher tzivah Hashem." (20:17) Moshe prepared Aharon for death, faithfully fulfilling G-d's command, no matter how difficult it might have been for him (Rashi). If it was difficult for Moshe, how much more difficult it must have been for Aharon -- after all, he was the one who was going to die! Yet, the pasuk only speaks about Moshe. Did Aharon not know what was going to happen? Sefas Emes explains that it was not the death of Aharon per se that troubled Moshe. What bothered Moshe is that he saw the chain of events that would unfold without Aharon: the dissipation of the ananei ha'kavod, the attack of Amalek/Cana'an, the complaints of the people that would follow. His beloved Klal Yisrael would suffer. As hard as death is, sometimes life for those who remain behind, struggling to cope and come to terms with loss, with a different, changed existence and set of relationships, can be just as hard.
So Aharon died and Canaan attacked. "Vayishb mimenu shevi," they took a captive. "Alisa la'marom shavisa shevi..." (Teh 68:19) Chazal tell us that when Moshe went upstairs to get the Torah, it was being held captive by the malachim, who did not want to let it go. (Sefas Emes elsewhere notes that the fact that Torah is called a captive shows that the Torah is really meant for us here on earth, to elevate our mundane lives. It's not meant for the heavens.) Torah is like the cord that allows us to plug into Hashem to get chiyus. Before Hashem gave us the Torah he offered it to the nations of the world, but they chose to reject it. Therefore, their chiyus is dependent upon us. "Vayishb mimenu shevi," the Canaani wanted to take back that dependence, to take back what they gave up, to try to seize their own chiyus instead of revolving around us.
Finally, at the end of the parsha we get to the complaint of Bnei Yisrael that the mon was inedible, "nafsheinu katzah b'lechem ha'kilokel." For 40 years they had been eating mon and suddenly it's no good? We discussed this last year here. There is a unique din by the chatzotzros: while other klei hamishkan made by Moshe could be used until they wore out, the chatzotzros had to be put in genizah after Moshe died. R' Yechezkel Sarna (I think - can't remember the source 100%) explains that the purpose of the chatzotzros trumpets was to call together the people to give them instruction. What the Torah is telling us is that the call to the people used in Moshe's generation would not work in the next generation. Each generation needs it's own call. So too, each generation needs its own food, it's own nourishment. The mon could be the most spiritual thing to eat, but that was good only for the dor hamidbar. The new generation that was entering Eretz Yisrael need something else to sustain them.
We have to be smart and thing about what our generation needs -- what is the trumpet call that will gather us, what is the food that will nourish our souls. What worked in the past will not necessarily work in the present.
Thursday, June 29, 2017
Thursday, June 22, 2017
the "she'lo lishma" rebellion
1. According to Avos the machlokes of Korach exemplifies machlokes she'lo l'shem shamayim. Isn't that a strange statement? The whole problem with Korach's machlokes is that it was she'lo lishma?! That's like telling a guy who drives to the Reform temple to daven on Shabbos morning that his tefilah is lacking because he doesn't have proper kavanah. That's the least of the problems! Here Korach undermined the authority of Moshe and brought the whole transmission of Torah into question and our problem is whether he said a l'shem yichud and did it lishma or not?!
If indeed Korach's argument had even some theoretical validity and it's only the she'lo lishma that's the problem, why is that such a big deal? Mi'toch she'lo lishma ba lishma! Sefas Emes writes that you see from here that machlokes is an exception to the rule. A machlokes can be constructive -- halacha is enriched by the debates and machlokes throughout sha"s -- but that's only a machlokes undertaken purely l'shem shamayim for the sake of Torah. A machlokes with an ulterior motive results only in destruction.
Maybe the key to the Mishna is a Netziv in P' Acharei Mos that we discussed here. Netziv posits that even though a person should learn Torah even she'lo lishma, one cannot be mechadesh in Torah and innovate new practices unless one's motives are pure lishma. Had Korach expressed his innovative ideas, "ki kol ha'eidah kulam kedoshim," purely l'shem shamayim, perhaps he would have gone down in history as the intellectual foil to Moshe, the Shamai of his generation, a view that was rejected, but a view that had validity. However, since Korach acted she'lo lishma, his views by definition were no longer a chiddush, but rather were a distortion of Torah.
2) According to Ibn Ezra the story of Korach's rebellion really took place much earlier, when the Levi'im were selected to take on the role formally assigned to bechorim. The bechorim were unhappy with losing their jobs; the Levi'im were unhappy at being assigned to role of helpers to kohanim; the stage was set for rebellion. Ramban disagrees, as, in general, Ramban takes a far more conservative position when it comes to re-ordering parshiyos. According to Ramban the parshiyos are written in chronological order and the rebellion occurred after after the episode of the spies, after the people were reeling from having heard that the dream of entering Eretz Yisrael would not come to fruition during their lifetime. Korach was able to use that disillusionment to his advantage in pressing long held grievances of his own.
What is Rashi's view on this issue? On the one hand, Rashi at the beginning of Korach cites the Midrash that says that Korach mockingly asked Moshe whether a talis completely dyed with techeiles needs a techeilis string of tzitzis -- the Midrash sees the Korach story as following the parsha of tzitzis, which itself is part of the response to the story of the spies. This seems to accord with Ramban's view. On the other hand, Rashi in the beginning of Shlach asks why the Torah juxtaposes the story of the spies with the story of Miriam's lashon ha'ra. The implication of Rashi's question is that these stories are not written in chronological order, otherwise chronology itself would be a valid reason for the juxtaposition. What is the out of order parsha that should chronologically appear between the Miriam story and that of the spies? Mizrachi suggests that perhaps the answer is Korach's rebellion. (Mizrachi does not see a need to reconcile these two Rashis. He argues that Rashi need not be consistent; Rashi can adopt one Midrashic view in one place and a different view elsewhere depending on the local textual problem he is trying to address. See Maharal in Gur Aryeh who disagrees.)
According to this latter view, we don't have the disillusionment that followed the episode of the spies as a motivating factor in the success of the rebellion; we don't have the immediate role changes of Levi'im and bechorim that Ibn Ezra focused on. What we do have is the parsha of Eldad and Meided prophesizing that Moshe would die before completing his mission. What we do have is Moshe himself saying that were it only the case that everyone could be a navi. What we do have is Miriam equating to some degree Moshe with herself and Aharon and not recognizing his uniqueness. Perhaps that context explans why the call of "ki kol ha'iedah kulam kedoshim" took on greater meaning. If everyone could be a prophet, if all prophets were to some degree the same, then why not spread authority to all?
If indeed Korach's argument had even some theoretical validity and it's only the she'lo lishma that's the problem, why is that such a big deal? Mi'toch she'lo lishma ba lishma! Sefas Emes writes that you see from here that machlokes is an exception to the rule. A machlokes can be constructive -- halacha is enriched by the debates and machlokes throughout sha"s -- but that's only a machlokes undertaken purely l'shem shamayim for the sake of Torah. A machlokes with an ulterior motive results only in destruction.
Maybe the key to the Mishna is a Netziv in P' Acharei Mos that we discussed here. Netziv posits that even though a person should learn Torah even she'lo lishma, one cannot be mechadesh in Torah and innovate new practices unless one's motives are pure lishma. Had Korach expressed his innovative ideas, "ki kol ha'eidah kulam kedoshim," purely l'shem shamayim, perhaps he would have gone down in history as the intellectual foil to Moshe, the Shamai of his generation, a view that was rejected, but a view that had validity. However, since Korach acted she'lo lishma, his views by definition were no longer a chiddush, but rather were a distortion of Torah.
2) According to Ibn Ezra the story of Korach's rebellion really took place much earlier, when the Levi'im were selected to take on the role formally assigned to bechorim. The bechorim were unhappy with losing their jobs; the Levi'im were unhappy at being assigned to role of helpers to kohanim; the stage was set for rebellion. Ramban disagrees, as, in general, Ramban takes a far more conservative position when it comes to re-ordering parshiyos. According to Ramban the parshiyos are written in chronological order and the rebellion occurred after after the episode of the spies, after the people were reeling from having heard that the dream of entering Eretz Yisrael would not come to fruition during their lifetime. Korach was able to use that disillusionment to his advantage in pressing long held grievances of his own.
What is Rashi's view on this issue? On the one hand, Rashi at the beginning of Korach cites the Midrash that says that Korach mockingly asked Moshe whether a talis completely dyed with techeiles needs a techeilis string of tzitzis -- the Midrash sees the Korach story as following the parsha of tzitzis, which itself is part of the response to the story of the spies. This seems to accord with Ramban's view. On the other hand, Rashi in the beginning of Shlach asks why the Torah juxtaposes the story of the spies with the story of Miriam's lashon ha'ra. The implication of Rashi's question is that these stories are not written in chronological order, otherwise chronology itself would be a valid reason for the juxtaposition. What is the out of order parsha that should chronologically appear between the Miriam story and that of the spies? Mizrachi suggests that perhaps the answer is Korach's rebellion. (Mizrachi does not see a need to reconcile these two Rashis. He argues that Rashi need not be consistent; Rashi can adopt one Midrashic view in one place and a different view elsewhere depending on the local textual problem he is trying to address. See Maharal in Gur Aryeh who disagrees.)
According to this latter view, we don't have the disillusionment that followed the episode of the spies as a motivating factor in the success of the rebellion; we don't have the immediate role changes of Levi'im and bechorim that Ibn Ezra focused on. What we do have is the parsha of Eldad and Meided prophesizing that Moshe would die before completing his mission. What we do have is Moshe himself saying that were it only the case that everyone could be a navi. What we do have is Miriam equating to some degree Moshe with herself and Aharon and not recognizing his uniqueness. Perhaps that context explans why the call of "ki kol ha'iedah kulam kedoshim" took on greater meaning. If everyone could be a prophet, if all prophets were to some degree the same, then why not spread authority to all?
Sunday, June 18, 2017
maror: radish or horseradish?
This is a page from the Graziano Haggadah, a 13th century haggadah on loan to the Met from JTS (see here). While wandering through the museum today the page caught my wife Ariella's eye because of the picture used for maror. Unless she and I are very much mistaken, that is a radish -- not a horseradish, just a plain old radish. I've never heard of anyone using a regular radish for maror. Granted that just because this haggadah was printed in the 13th century doesn't make it a rishon, but it is interesting if using radish was in fact the minhag of Catalonian Jewry. why Yehoshua did not join Kaleiv in Chevron
Rashi writes that Kaleiv broke away from the meraglim and stopped off in Chevron in order to daven at the kever of the Avos and elicit their zechus. Where was Yehoshua? Why didn't he join Kaleiv there?
My wife suggested that Yehoshua didn't need to join him because Yehoshua had Moshe Rabeinu, a living rebbe of the highest rank. He didn't need to go to kevarim to connect with the mesorah of the past; he had a living connection to it in the present.
I would just add that this fits perfectly with the Maharal in Gur Aryeh who writes that Moshe changed Yehoshua's name and davened on his behalf more than he did for anyone else (the implication of Maharal, as R' Hartman points out, is that Moshe did daven for everyone, just not to the same degree) because Yehoshua was his talmid. If a talmid fails, it reflects back on the rebbe; when a talmid fails, it is as if the rebbe has suffered a personal failure. That special bond existed only between Moshe and Yehoshua.
My wife suggested that Yehoshua didn't need to join him because Yehoshua had Moshe Rabeinu, a living rebbe of the highest rank. He didn't need to go to kevarim to connect with the mesorah of the past; he had a living connection to it in the present.
I would just add that this fits perfectly with the Maharal in Gur Aryeh who writes that Moshe changed Yehoshua's name and davened on his behalf more than he did for anyone else (the implication of Maharal, as R' Hartman points out, is that Moshe did daven for everyone, just not to the same degree) because Yehoshua was his talmid. If a talmid fails, it reflects back on the rebbe; when a talmid fails, it is as if the rebbe has suffered a personal failure. That special bond existed only between Moshe and Yehoshua.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
how the barclay's center asifa answers chasam sofer's question on our parsha
Chasam Sofer (d"h nitma rosh) makes the interesting observation that even though Klal Yisrael accepted the report of the mergalim and wanted to return to Egypt, they never lost their faith in Hashem. In fact, when the people were told that Hashem disapproved of their attitude and that they were wrong, the ma'apilim did a 180 degree turn and took off for Eretz Yisrael without waiting for Moshe and the aron. Despite the clamor of "nitna rosh v'nashuva Mitzrayma," no one actually disobeyed Hashem and left. How do you square this apparent emunah with the acceptance of the report of the mergalim?
To anyone following news in the Jewish world during the past ,the answer is obvious. The meraglim proved that their path was not one of rebellion -- aderaba, their path was the true ratzon Hashem. Klal Yisrael gathered in the Barclay's Center in the desert, and one by one each of the leaders, each of the meraglim, stood up and explained that Hashem wanted them to return to galus. How can you go to Eretz Yisrael when the Torah says that there would be a 400 year galus of which only 210 years had passed? How can you go to Eretz Yisrael when Hashem had told Moshe to ask for a 3 day leave -- no more -- from Pharoah and Mitzrayim to do avodah in the desert? How can you go to Eretz Yisrael when the strength and might of the nations that are there shows that Hashem does not want them to be conquered yet? When the time is right, surely Hashem will weaken those nations and taking the land will be a cakewalk. The proofs are all there -- pesukim, Hashem's own directive, there was probably some lomdus too. The only source that proved contrary was "vayo'el Moshe," Moshe's own desire to get to the land, as getting to the land must be part of some personal agenda on his part.
The punchline to the story is that all those "proofs" were of course wrong and Moshe got it right. When the people realized they had been led astray and understood what Hashem truly wanted, the regret was enormous.
To end on a more positive note, a vort from another member of the Sofer family: "Aloh na'aleh v'yarashnu osah ki yachol nuchal lah." Why the double-language? The message would be complete with just either the first half or the second half of the pasuk? R' Shimon Sofer explains the pasuk as follows: "aloh na'aleh" -- we have to elevate ourselves, increase our commitment to Torah, increase our emunah, and then "yachol nuchal lah," we will be able to conquer the land.
To anyone following news in the Jewish world during the past ,the answer is obvious. The meraglim proved that their path was not one of rebellion -- aderaba, their path was the true ratzon Hashem. Klal Yisrael gathered in the Barclay's Center in the desert, and one by one each of the leaders, each of the meraglim, stood up and explained that Hashem wanted them to return to galus. How can you go to Eretz Yisrael when the Torah says that there would be a 400 year galus of which only 210 years had passed? How can you go to Eretz Yisrael when Hashem had told Moshe to ask for a 3 day leave -- no more -- from Pharoah and Mitzrayim to do avodah in the desert? How can you go to Eretz Yisrael when the strength and might of the nations that are there shows that Hashem does not want them to be conquered yet? When the time is right, surely Hashem will weaken those nations and taking the land will be a cakewalk. The proofs are all there -- pesukim, Hashem's own directive, there was probably some lomdus too. The only source that proved contrary was "vayo'el Moshe," Moshe's own desire to get to the land, as getting to the land must be part of some personal agenda on his part.
The punchline to the story is that all those "proofs" were of course wrong and Moshe got it right. When the people realized they had been led astray and understood what Hashem truly wanted, the regret was enormous.
To end on a more positive note, a vort from another member of the Sofer family: "Aloh na'aleh v'yarashnu osah ki yachol nuchal lah." Why the double-language? The message would be complete with just either the first half or the second half of the pasuk? R' Shimon Sofer explains the pasuk as follows: "aloh na'aleh" -- we have to elevate ourselves, increase our commitment to Torah, increase our emunah, and then "yachol nuchal lah," we will be able to conquer the land.
Monday, May 29, 2017
toras chessed
We are approaching the completion of our counting of the omer, the preparation for mattan Torah, during which time we have been mourning the death of Rabbi Avika's students. The gemara (Sota 21) tells us that the study of Torah is greater than all other mitzvos in that a mitzvah protects one from sin and harm only when one is performing the mitzvah, but Torah affords 24x7 protection at all times, even when one is not actively engaged in learning. Why then were these great talmidei chachamim, students of R' Akiva, not saved from death in the merit of their Torah study? Why is it that they died davka during this period of anticipating and preparing for mattan Torah?
Chazal tell us that R' Akiva's students died because they failed to honor and respect each other -- it was a flaw in their bein adam l'chaveiro, in their midos. R' Shternbruch explains that Torah without bein adam l'chaveiro -- Torah without midos -- is not Torah. Therefore, their learning did not protect them.
You cannot celebrate a mattan Torah of laws bein adam la'Makom and ignore the bein adam l'chaveiro. Right after speaking about the holiday in Parshas Emor, the Torah reminds us (23:22) that there is a mitzvah to leave pe'ah and leket for the poor. Why stick that in here? Meshech Chochma explains very beautifully that the Torah is hinting to us that when we celebrate Shavuos, we have to recognize that caring for the poor, social law, bein adam l'chaeivo law, is also part of mattan Torah. When we stood at Sinai it was not just to receive a bunch of rituals. (A quibble: the Torah there does not speak about Shavuos as the time of mattan Torah?) It was to receive these laws as well.
The Beis Yisrael of Gur sees this lesson in Parshas BaMidbar, which is almost always read before Shavuos. "V'eileh toldos Aharon u'Moshe b'yom dibeir Hashem es Moshe b'har Sinai." The Torah tells us that it is going to list the toldos of Aharon and Moshe and then it then just lists Aharon's children. So why mention Moshe? Explains Rashi, one who teaches his friend's children Torah is credited as if he gave birth to them. Because Moshe taught Aharon's children Torah, he counts as their father as well. What Moshe got "b'yom dibeir Hashem es Moshe b'har Sinai," through mattan Torah -- or what Moshe needed to properly experience mattan Torah --- was this sense of responsibility for "chaveiro," for his friend, his neighbor, for their children. This is the "v'ahavta l'rei'acha kamocha" which R' Akiva called the "klal gadol baTorah" in action. (And since these children count as his tolados, it also fulfills Ben Azai's dictum of "zeh sefer toldos ha'adam as the cardinal principle!)
The Midrash writes that Rus does not teach us halacha; it teaches us chessed. Chessed, caring for others, is not an additional theme tacked on to the Yom Tov of kabbalas haTorah, but rather is integral to what kabbalas haTorah is all about.
On a completely different note, I saw a pshat from the Divrei Shaul quoted in Ta'amei haMinhagim that, unless I'm mistaken, seems to refer to the myth of the sirens that appears in Homer's Odyssey and elsewhere. He explains why mattan Torah was accompanied by thunder and lightening by quoting from the Ya'avetz's siddur that there are creatures that emerge from the sea and sing with such beautiful voices that people literally die from the pleasure of their song. Kal v'chomer: if people die from the hearing the beautiful song of these sea men, imagine the effect the beautiful song of dvar Hashem would have! (My wife's comment: but the gemara in fact says that people did die when they heard the dibros and Hashem had to revive them). Therefore, Hashem used cacophonous thunder and lightening to minimize the effect of the beauty of the sound of the dibros.
It's not an exact parallel: the sirens lure sailors to their death using song; here, the song itself kills people. But it's close enough to make me wonder if it is one and the same myth. Maybe it's sacrilegious to think that, I don't know. I would like another source for this Ya'avetz if there is one, but don't have time to dig into it.
Chazal tell us that R' Akiva's students died because they failed to honor and respect each other -- it was a flaw in their bein adam l'chaveiro, in their midos. R' Shternbruch explains that Torah without bein adam l'chaveiro -- Torah without midos -- is not Torah. Therefore, their learning did not protect them.
You cannot celebrate a mattan Torah of laws bein adam la'Makom and ignore the bein adam l'chaveiro. Right after speaking about the holiday in Parshas Emor, the Torah reminds us (23:22) that there is a mitzvah to leave pe'ah and leket for the poor. Why stick that in here? Meshech Chochma explains very beautifully that the Torah is hinting to us that when we celebrate Shavuos, we have to recognize that caring for the poor, social law, bein adam l'chaeivo law, is also part of mattan Torah. When we stood at Sinai it was not just to receive a bunch of rituals. (A quibble: the Torah there does not speak about Shavuos as the time of mattan Torah?) It was to receive these laws as well.
The Beis Yisrael of Gur sees this lesson in Parshas BaMidbar, which is almost always read before Shavuos. "V'eileh toldos Aharon u'Moshe b'yom dibeir Hashem es Moshe b'har Sinai." The Torah tells us that it is going to list the toldos of Aharon and Moshe and then it then just lists Aharon's children. So why mention Moshe? Explains Rashi, one who teaches his friend's children Torah is credited as if he gave birth to them. Because Moshe taught Aharon's children Torah, he counts as their father as well. What Moshe got "b'yom dibeir Hashem es Moshe b'har Sinai," through mattan Torah -- or what Moshe needed to properly experience mattan Torah --- was this sense of responsibility for "chaveiro," for his friend, his neighbor, for their children. This is the "v'ahavta l'rei'acha kamocha" which R' Akiva called the "klal gadol baTorah" in action. (And since these children count as his tolados, it also fulfills Ben Azai's dictum of "zeh sefer toldos ha'adam as the cardinal principle!)
The Midrash writes that Rus does not teach us halacha; it teaches us chessed. Chessed, caring for others, is not an additional theme tacked on to the Yom Tov of kabbalas haTorah, but rather is integral to what kabbalas haTorah is all about.
On a completely different note, I saw a pshat from the Divrei Shaul quoted in Ta'amei haMinhagim that, unless I'm mistaken, seems to refer to the myth of the sirens that appears in Homer's Odyssey and elsewhere. He explains why mattan Torah was accompanied by thunder and lightening by quoting from the Ya'avetz's siddur that there are creatures that emerge from the sea and sing with such beautiful voices that people literally die from the pleasure of their song. Kal v'chomer: if people die from the hearing the beautiful song of these sea men, imagine the effect the beautiful song of dvar Hashem would have! (My wife's comment: but the gemara in fact says that people did die when they heard the dibros and Hashem had to revive them). Therefore, Hashem used cacophonous thunder and lightening to minimize the effect of the beauty of the sound of the dibros.
It's not an exact parallel: the sirens lure sailors to their death using song; here, the song itself kills people. But it's close enough to make me wonder if it is one and the same myth. Maybe it's sacrilegious to think that, I don't know. I would like another source for this Ya'avetz if there is one, but don't have time to dig into it.
Thursday, May 25, 2017
nezem zahav b'af chazir -- the golden ring
Hopefully I will get to post something before Shavuos, but in case I don't, this amazing Koznitzer Magid (at the end of Avodas Yisrael) should make your Yom Tov. In the last perek of Avos R' Yehoshua ben Levi tells us that a bas kol echoes from Sinai every day bemoaning those who ignore Torah. The Mishna describes these people using the pasuk, "Nezem zahav b'af chazir...," it is like a golden ring in the snout of a pig. M'mah nafshacha, asks the Koznitzer, how does this analogy make sense? If people are learning, then they are not dragging the gold ring through the mud; if they are not learning, then they don't have the gold ring to begin with! They have nothing, no connection -- where's the gold ring?
The answer must be, says the Koznitzer Magid, that every Jew, from the day he/she is born, has a connection to Torah built into his/her DNA. We're not born with a silver spoon in our mouths -- we are born with a gold ring, a nezem zahav, the beauty of Torah. The Mishna is telling us that it's up to us to make the most of that innate connection. We can either seize the opportunity and hear the call from Sinai, or we can end up dragging that gold ring through the mud.
Rashi writes at the beginning of our parsha that Klal Yisrael were counted when they left Egypt, they were counted again after cheit ha'eigel, and here Hashem counted them again all to show his love for them.
“Vayis’u m’Refidim va’yavo’u midbar Sinai…” (Shmos 19:2) Chazal connect the departure from Refidim with the arrival at Sinai: just as the former was accompanied by teshuvah, so too, the latter was accompanied by teshuvah. If they did teshuvah when they left, why did they need to do teshuva again when they arrived? Two years ago I posted the Shem m'Shmuel's answer: when a person goes up in ruchniyus, they need to re-assess the past from their new vantage point. Sinai was a new level, a new height. What might have passed for an adequate measure of teshuvah before when they left now no longer looked to be sufficient.
When Klal Yisrael was counted after they left Egypt, it was to take stock of who had made it through the difficult challenge of being in Mitzrayim. After the cheit ha'eigel, it was time to take stock again and asses who had made it though that challenging experience. In our parsha, Klal Yisrael has completed a Mishkan and are about to start the march toward Eretz Yisrael. It is a new level of spiritual heights. Therefore, a new count is needed to take stock again, to re-asses the past and see if indeed, the teshuvah that was done then, the (ac)count that was taken then, still passes muster (based on the Sheiris Menachem).
The answer must be, says the Koznitzer Magid, that every Jew, from the day he/she is born, has a connection to Torah built into his/her DNA. We're not born with a silver spoon in our mouths -- we are born with a gold ring, a nezem zahav, the beauty of Torah. The Mishna is telling us that it's up to us to make the most of that innate connection. We can either seize the opportunity and hear the call from Sinai, or we can end up dragging that gold ring through the mud.
Rashi writes at the beginning of our parsha that Klal Yisrael were counted when they left Egypt, they were counted again after cheit ha'eigel, and here Hashem counted them again all to show his love for them.
“Vayis’u m’Refidim va’yavo’u midbar Sinai…” (Shmos 19:2) Chazal connect the departure from Refidim with the arrival at Sinai: just as the former was accompanied by teshuvah, so too, the latter was accompanied by teshuvah. If they did teshuvah when they left, why did they need to do teshuva again when they arrived? Two years ago I posted the Shem m'Shmuel's answer: when a person goes up in ruchniyus, they need to re-assess the past from their new vantage point. Sinai was a new level, a new height. What might have passed for an adequate measure of teshuvah before when they left now no longer looked to be sufficient.
When Klal Yisrael was counted after they left Egypt, it was to take stock of who had made it through the difficult challenge of being in Mitzrayim. After the cheit ha'eigel, it was time to take stock again and asses who had made it though that challenging experience. In our parsha, Klal Yisrael has completed a Mishkan and are about to start the march toward Eretz Yisrael. It is a new level of spiritual heights. Therefore, a new count is needed to take stock again, to re-asses the past and see if indeed, the teshuvah that was done then, the (ac)count that was taken then, still passes muster (based on the Sheiris Menachem).
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
Yirah / Shaleim -- two names for the same place
In Parshas Lech Lecha we read that Malkitzedek, the king of Shaleim, brought out food and wine for Avraham. That same place of Shaleim would later be renamed Yireh by Avraham Avinu in the parsha of the akeidah. Two names given to the same place by two great people -- which one would win out? The Midrash (parsha 56) writes that Hashem made a comprimise. He combined the two into one and thus we have the name Yeru-shalayim.
What difference does it really make what you call the place? It's still the same city, the same place on the map?
Rav Kook explains that the two names reflect two different approaches to religious development. One approach is the philosophical approach, coming to Hashem through contemplation. The other approach is the approach of tikun ha'midos, fighting off the yetzer ha'ra and the influence of evil and in doing so coming to purity. Malkitzedek is the "kohen l'K-l Elyon," the master of looking on high, contemplating G-d in the heavens. Avraham, on the other hand, saw the need for yirah, for bringing things down to earth, dealing with the world and all its temptations and imperfections and bringing G-dliness to it.
Yerushalayim is the meeting place of both worlds. It is the place where the Beis haMikdrash in heaven stands exactly corresponding to the Beis haMikdash on earth.
Rav Aviner writes that after the Six Day War he asked R' Tzvi Yehudah by what zechuyos we had earned having Yerushalayim in our possession. R' Tzvi Yehudah answered that it was not our zechuyos -- we surely are not deserving -- but rather it is a gift from Hashem.
I think it's a davar pashut that if someone gives you a gift, kal v'chomer if G-d gives you a gift, that you have to say thank you and show your appreciation.
What difference does it really make what you call the place? It's still the same city, the same place on the map?
Rav Kook explains that the two names reflect two different approaches to religious development. One approach is the philosophical approach, coming to Hashem through contemplation. The other approach is the approach of tikun ha'midos, fighting off the yetzer ha'ra and the influence of evil and in doing so coming to purity. Malkitzedek is the "kohen l'K-l Elyon," the master of looking on high, contemplating G-d in the heavens. Avraham, on the other hand, saw the need for yirah, for bringing things down to earth, dealing with the world and all its temptations and imperfections and bringing G-dliness to it.
Yerushalayim is the meeting place of both worlds. It is the place where the Beis haMikdrash in heaven stands exactly corresponding to the Beis haMikdash on earth.
Rav Aviner writes that after the Six Day War he asked R' Tzvi Yehudah by what zechuyos we had earned having Yerushalayim in our possession. R' Tzvi Yehudah answered that it was not our zechuyos -- we surely are not deserving -- but rather it is a gift from Hashem.
I think it's a davar pashut that if someone gives you a gift, kal v'chomer if G-d gives you a gift, that you have to say thank you and show your appreciation.
Thursday, May 18, 2017
punishment in exact measure
A) "V'zacharti es brisi Ya'akov v'af es brisi Yitzchak v'af es brisi Ya'akov ezkor v'ha'aretz ezkor." (26:42) It sounds like this is a bracha, but the pasuk is actually part of the tochacha. The Shl"H explains that if a child grows up without a role model or training, it's not surprising if the child becomes a monster. But if the child has wonderful parents who are excellent role models and the child still becomes a monster, then something is really wrong with that child. Klal Yisrael does not lack for role models. When Hashem looks at our behavior, he remembers that we are the children of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Ya'akov. We should know better and we should do better.
Last year I quoted R' Eliyahu Lopian's (in the essay 'Ha'kove'a Makom l'Tefilaso' in the Ma'areches HaTeshuvah section in Lev Eliyahu) question: we quote this pasuk among the zichronos that we recite in musaf on Rosh haShana. The halacha says that we are not allowed to recite pesukim that have negative implications or associations in the zichronos. If the Shl"H's pshat is correct, what is this pasuk doing there? Why would we mention a pasuk of rebuke? R' Lopian ends by saying the answer is a deep yesod that he will explain some other time -- and then he leaves us hanging.
I discovered this year that the same question is asked by another one of the great ba'alei mussar, R' Ya'akov Neiman. R' Neimen writes that al korchacha we must say that the pasuk is in fact an expression of rachamim. So what's it doing in the tochacha? He answers that we should not think that when there is a time of tochacha and Klal Yisrael is suffering punishment that Hashem has just abandoned us to fate. To the contrary, even amidst the suffering, even when we deserve punishment, Hashem says, "v'zacharti es brisi," I Hashem still remember the covenant between us, and that punishment will be precisely meted out, no more than is deserved.
He gives two example to prove the point:
1) When Yosef is sold into slavery by his brothers, the Torah tells us that he was taken down to Egypt by a caravan of spice/perfume sellers. Rashi explains (Br 37:25) that the Torah gives us this detail to tell us that Hashem spared Yosef from having to travel in a foul smelling wagon. Here Yosef has been betrayed by his brothers, he has become captive to strangers, he is on the way to a foreign land to await some unknown fate -- would the caravan's odor really make that much difference to him at this point? It's like a poor guy dressed in a ragged shirt, pants that have patches and holes, torn shoes, but he stops to put on a beautiful tie before he leaves his home. What sense does it make in context? Answers R' Neiman, Yosef may have deserved to have to become a slave in Egypt, but he did not deserve any more than that. He did not deserve to suffer stink on his way down. That's the "v'zacharti es brisi...." Punishment -- yes, but not one drop more than is deserved. The precise calibration is itself a nechama, in that it shows Hashem is in charge of every detail.
2) In describing the slav birds that Hashem brought in response to the people's complaints, the Torah in Parshas Be'ha'alosecha tells us that they were piled two amos high off the ground (11:31). Rashi explains the significance of this detail: the birds were at just the right height to be taken, so that a person would not have to exert himself to reach up or to bend over. Whoever ate those birds, continues the parsha, died. The birds were sent as a punishment for the people's complaints. Given the end result of suffering death, would having to reach up or down a little bit to grab the bird make any difference?
Here too, answers R' Neiman, the point is that the punishment was precisely calibrated. The extra exertion was underserved, and therefore was not included in the package.
B) Just before this pasuk of v'zachati the Torah describes how Klal Yisrael will ultimately confess their wrongdoing, v'hisvadu es avonam (26:40). You would think that would be the end of the galus, but it's not. The parsha continues, "v'ha'aretz tei'azev meihem," the land will still not take them back, "ya'an ub'ya'an b'mishpatai ma'asu v'es chukosai ga'alah nafsham." Why is the teshuvah not enough? Netziv explains that the chukim referred to here are Torah laws. (Remember the beginning of the parsha: Im b'chukosai teilechu - explains Rashi, this refers to ameilus b'Torah.) You can want to do mitvos, you can want to have a connection with Hashem, but, says the Netziv, without limud haTorah, it's not enough.
He quotes from Hoshea 8:2-3: "Li yi'zaku 'Elokai, y'da'anucha Yisrael!'" The Jewish people will cry out to G- that they want to know him, to have a relationship with him. Tehsuvah! But, continues the navi, "Zanach Yisrael tov, oyev yirdifo." The Jewish people have abandoned tov, and therefore their enemies [continue] to puruse them. What is the tov the navi is referring to? Chazal tell us that ain tov eleh Torah, it refers to Torah. Without limud haTorah, one's spirituality, one's moral and religious development, can never be complete.
I saw a local Rabbi was planning to speak on Shavuos on the topic of the role of the intellect in avodas Hashem. I thought that was an interesting title for a shiur. Would anyone think of giving a shiur about the role of one's arm in the mitzvah of tefillin? Of course not -- it's obvious that an arm is essential to the mitzvah. What's there to talk about? Once upon a time I think it was obvious that the intellect is THE primary tool for avodas Hashem. You might even say that in a nutshell the mussar movement came about to try to involve more than intellect -- the heart, the midos, etc. But the presumption was that the intellect was the bedrock. That's what the Netziv is telling us -- without Torah, mitzvos, spirituality, etc. can't get off the ground. It seems that we've reached a point in history where v'nahapoch hu, there is a lot of people who want to feel spiritual, who want to sing and enjoy cholent, maybe do lots of chessed, support his cause or that cause, but where is the intellect? Where is the bedrock of limud haTorah to ground it all? The title of that shiur reinforced my impression that the presumption these days is that intellect is the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae, rather than the foundation upon which everything rests. You can be a good Jew without the Ketzos and R' Chaim, can't you? Well, I'm afraid the answer is no. (For all I know maybe that's what this Shavuos shiur will be about - - I don't really know.) Anyway, maybe I'm wrong about my read of things -- the Netziv is still a great point even if you disagree with my social commentary, and it certainly something to take to heart as we approach Shavuos.
Last year I quoted R' Eliyahu Lopian's (in the essay 'Ha'kove'a Makom l'Tefilaso' in the Ma'areches HaTeshuvah section in Lev Eliyahu) question: we quote this pasuk among the zichronos that we recite in musaf on Rosh haShana. The halacha says that we are not allowed to recite pesukim that have negative implications or associations in the zichronos. If the Shl"H's pshat is correct, what is this pasuk doing there? Why would we mention a pasuk of rebuke? R' Lopian ends by saying the answer is a deep yesod that he will explain some other time -- and then he leaves us hanging.
I discovered this year that the same question is asked by another one of the great ba'alei mussar, R' Ya'akov Neiman. R' Neimen writes that al korchacha we must say that the pasuk is in fact an expression of rachamim. So what's it doing in the tochacha? He answers that we should not think that when there is a time of tochacha and Klal Yisrael is suffering punishment that Hashem has just abandoned us to fate. To the contrary, even amidst the suffering, even when we deserve punishment, Hashem says, "v'zacharti es brisi," I Hashem still remember the covenant between us, and that punishment will be precisely meted out, no more than is deserved.
He gives two example to prove the point:
1) When Yosef is sold into slavery by his brothers, the Torah tells us that he was taken down to Egypt by a caravan of spice/perfume sellers. Rashi explains (Br 37:25) that the Torah gives us this detail to tell us that Hashem spared Yosef from having to travel in a foul smelling wagon. Here Yosef has been betrayed by his brothers, he has become captive to strangers, he is on the way to a foreign land to await some unknown fate -- would the caravan's odor really make that much difference to him at this point? It's like a poor guy dressed in a ragged shirt, pants that have patches and holes, torn shoes, but he stops to put on a beautiful tie before he leaves his home. What sense does it make in context? Answers R' Neiman, Yosef may have deserved to have to become a slave in Egypt, but he did not deserve any more than that. He did not deserve to suffer stink on his way down. That's the "v'zacharti es brisi...." Punishment -- yes, but not one drop more than is deserved. The precise calibration is itself a nechama, in that it shows Hashem is in charge of every detail.
2) In describing the slav birds that Hashem brought in response to the people's complaints, the Torah in Parshas Be'ha'alosecha tells us that they were piled two amos high off the ground (11:31). Rashi explains the significance of this detail: the birds were at just the right height to be taken, so that a person would not have to exert himself to reach up or to bend over. Whoever ate those birds, continues the parsha, died. The birds were sent as a punishment for the people's complaints. Given the end result of suffering death, would having to reach up or down a little bit to grab the bird make any difference?
Here too, answers R' Neiman, the point is that the punishment was precisely calibrated. The extra exertion was underserved, and therefore was not included in the package.
B) Just before this pasuk of v'zachati the Torah describes how Klal Yisrael will ultimately confess their wrongdoing, v'hisvadu es avonam (26:40). You would think that would be the end of the galus, but it's not. The parsha continues, "v'ha'aretz tei'azev meihem," the land will still not take them back, "ya'an ub'ya'an b'mishpatai ma'asu v'es chukosai ga'alah nafsham." Why is the teshuvah not enough? Netziv explains that the chukim referred to here are Torah laws. (Remember the beginning of the parsha: Im b'chukosai teilechu - explains Rashi, this refers to ameilus b'Torah.) You can want to do mitvos, you can want to have a connection with Hashem, but, says the Netziv, without limud haTorah, it's not enough.
He quotes from Hoshea 8:2-3: "Li yi'zaku 'Elokai, y'da'anucha Yisrael!'" The Jewish people will cry out to G- that they want to know him, to have a relationship with him. Tehsuvah! But, continues the navi, "Zanach Yisrael tov, oyev yirdifo." The Jewish people have abandoned tov, and therefore their enemies [continue] to puruse them. What is the tov the navi is referring to? Chazal tell us that ain tov eleh Torah, it refers to Torah. Without limud haTorah, one's spirituality, one's moral and religious development, can never be complete.
I saw a local Rabbi was planning to speak on Shavuos on the topic of the role of the intellect in avodas Hashem. I thought that was an interesting title for a shiur. Would anyone think of giving a shiur about the role of one's arm in the mitzvah of tefillin? Of course not -- it's obvious that an arm is essential to the mitzvah. What's there to talk about? Once upon a time I think it was obvious that the intellect is THE primary tool for avodas Hashem. You might even say that in a nutshell the mussar movement came about to try to involve more than intellect -- the heart, the midos, etc. But the presumption was that the intellect was the bedrock. That's what the Netziv is telling us -- without Torah, mitzvos, spirituality, etc. can't get off the ground. It seems that we've reached a point in history where v'nahapoch hu, there is a lot of people who want to feel spiritual, who want to sing and enjoy cholent, maybe do lots of chessed, support his cause or that cause, but where is the intellect? Where is the bedrock of limud haTorah to ground it all? The title of that shiur reinforced my impression that the presumption these days is that intellect is the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae, rather than the foundation upon which everything rests. You can be a good Jew without the Ketzos and R' Chaim, can't you? Well, I'm afraid the answer is no. (For all I know maybe that's what this Shavuos shiur will be about - - I don't really know.) Anyway, maybe I'm wrong about my read of things -- the Netziv is still a great point even if you disagree with my social commentary, and it certainly something to take to heart as we approach Shavuos.
Thursday, May 11, 2017
every day can be a holiday
The Midrash (28:1) writes that the Chachamim wanted to put sefer Koheles in geniza because they thought it heretical ( modern books that have been banned by "gedolim" can consider themselves in good company!) Shlomo haMelech tells us, "Mah yisron l'adam b'chol amalo..." what good is all the toil of man. Can it be that Shlomo was suggesting that toil in Torah has no value?
The Chachamim reread the pasuk so that in fact it does give us a positive message. It doesn't say "amal" - toil; it says "amalo" - his [man's] toil. Toiling in the mundane affairs of man does not accomplish anything; toiling in G-ds Torah is worthwhile work. Koheles is giving is the right message.
Asks the Sefas Emes (5656): what was the hava amina of the Midrash? The thrust of sefer Koheles is that the secular world davka is "hevel havalom," but "sof davar ha'kol nishma..." yiras shamayim and Torah and mitzvos have real value. How can the Midrash even entertain the thought that Shlomo meant to suggest that ameilus in Torah is worthless?
If not for the Sefas Emes I would suggest that perhaps you can explain the Midrash using a vort that we've all heard said over at siyumim. In the hadran we say that "anu ameilim v'heim amelilim....," that we work and the non-Jews work, but while we get reward for our work, they don't. What does that mean -- don't even non-Jews get a salary for their work? The famous answer is that in the secular world, you get paid for the finished product. The labor is just a means to the end. In Torah, G-d rewards us even for the toil. You can spend the whole day trying to understand a hava amina that has no bearing on the final halacha and you still get credit for learning. Maybe the hava amina of the Midrash is that toil in Torah is no different than toil at any other occupation and it's only the final product -- what you come away with in the maskana -- that counts. "Amal," the work to get there, has no value. Kah mashma lan the Midrash that there is reward in Torah even for the ameilus, even for just the work, independent of the results.
But the Sefas Emes says a better pshat.
The parsha has a long section listing the chagim that opens with the introduction, "Eileh moadei Hashem... sheishes yamim tei'aseh melacha u'bayom ha'shevi'i Shabbos shabbason... (23:2-3) Some meforshim are bothered by the fact that the list of holidays begins with Shabbos, which is not a mo'ed. I don't know if that question will cause anyone to lose too much sleep because we sort of understand that there is a relationship between Shabbos and other holidays in that that all of them have kedushas zman. The whole question, however, is misplaced, because the list of holidays does not really begin with Shabbos. The list of holidays begins with "sheishes yamim tei'aseh melacha," work should be done on the six days that precede (or come after, depending on how you look at at) every Shabbos. The six work days of the week certainly have no kedusha, are not holidays, and would seem to have no place on the list. The real question is why begin the list of moadim with them?
On Yom Kippur we know that the kohen gadol has to dunk in the mikvah between every change of clothes, from gold to white and white to gold, etc. The Chasam Sofer last week in Acharei Mos writes that we understand that when the kohen gadol switches from gold garments to white so he can enter the kodesh kodashim, he is going into a holier place than normal, he will be doing avodah that is more special than normal, and so he has to go to mikveh to enter a higher state of purity. But why dunk again on the way out, to switch back to gold? That's a step down, not a step up?
The Chasam Sofer says a yesod: after the kohen has experienced the higher level he was at in the kodesh kodashim and comes out, those gold garments he changes into are not the same gold garments as before. Life is different now. It may look the same, it may fit the same, but it's not the same. The higher level the kohen was on sticks with him even as he returns to the gold garments that he wore before.
When a nazir completes his vow of nezirus, the Torah tells us, "achar yishteh ha'nazir ya'yin," afterwards the nazir can drink wine. Shem m'Shmuel asks: why does the Torah says "the nazir" can drink wine -- he is not a nazir anymore once his vow is up?! The answer is the same yesod the Chasam Sofer is telling us. The whole point of that period of abstinence is so that once the vow is complete, the person is still a nazir, he still retains his kedusha. He may be able to now drink wine, but he is not the same person as before.
Coming back to the parsha of the moadim, the Kozhiglover in Eretz Tzvi writes that the cycle of moadim is not about spending a week here and a week there in a state of holiness and the rest of the year in a different, secular world. The point of the parsha is that the week here and a week there we bask in revealed kedusha give us something to take with us and make part of the rest of our lives so that the six work days we come back to are different days than before. The same kedusha that we experienced in the mo'ed is still there afterwards, albeit in hidden form, albeit without generating an issur melacha, but it's part of our lives. "Sheishes yamim tei'aseh melacha..." is a mo'ed too.
Now the table is set for the Sefas Emes. Peshita that a guy sitting and learning is accomplishing, while someone working so he can buy himself a new car or gadget is wasting his time. There was never a hava amina otherwise. But what about the person who works as a doctor and treats the poor without charging -- is he he/she simply toiling for nothing? Is the person who spends a few hours helping a friend in need wasting his time with worthless work? That's what bothered Chazal.
Of course you get credit for poring over a Rashba in the beis medrash. But what the Midrash is telling us is that to take the Rashba out of the beis medrash, to bring G-d into everything you do, to find G-d in everything that you do, to make the "sheishes yamim..." holy too, that' takes real work. You can toil as a doctor, a plumber, a lawyer, and it can be "mah yisron l'adam b'kol amalo," or you can toil as a doctor, a plumber, a lawyer, and it can be ameilius of Torah and the highest value.
The Chachamim reread the pasuk so that in fact it does give us a positive message. It doesn't say "amal" - toil; it says "amalo" - his [man's] toil. Toiling in the mundane affairs of man does not accomplish anything; toiling in G-ds Torah is worthwhile work. Koheles is giving is the right message.
Asks the Sefas Emes (5656): what was the hava amina of the Midrash? The thrust of sefer Koheles is that the secular world davka is "hevel havalom," but "sof davar ha'kol nishma..." yiras shamayim and Torah and mitzvos have real value. How can the Midrash even entertain the thought that Shlomo meant to suggest that ameilus in Torah is worthless?
If not for the Sefas Emes I would suggest that perhaps you can explain the Midrash using a vort that we've all heard said over at siyumim. In the hadran we say that "anu ameilim v'heim amelilim....," that we work and the non-Jews work, but while we get reward for our work, they don't. What does that mean -- don't even non-Jews get a salary for their work? The famous answer is that in the secular world, you get paid for the finished product. The labor is just a means to the end. In Torah, G-d rewards us even for the toil. You can spend the whole day trying to understand a hava amina that has no bearing on the final halacha and you still get credit for learning. Maybe the hava amina of the Midrash is that toil in Torah is no different than toil at any other occupation and it's only the final product -- what you come away with in the maskana -- that counts. "Amal," the work to get there, has no value. Kah mashma lan the Midrash that there is reward in Torah even for the ameilus, even for just the work, independent of the results.
But the Sefas Emes says a better pshat.
The parsha has a long section listing the chagim that opens with the introduction, "Eileh moadei Hashem... sheishes yamim tei'aseh melacha u'bayom ha'shevi'i Shabbos shabbason... (23:2-3) Some meforshim are bothered by the fact that the list of holidays begins with Shabbos, which is not a mo'ed. I don't know if that question will cause anyone to lose too much sleep because we sort of understand that there is a relationship between Shabbos and other holidays in that that all of them have kedushas zman. The whole question, however, is misplaced, because the list of holidays does not really begin with Shabbos. The list of holidays begins with "sheishes yamim tei'aseh melacha," work should be done on the six days that precede (or come after, depending on how you look at at) every Shabbos. The six work days of the week certainly have no kedusha, are not holidays, and would seem to have no place on the list. The real question is why begin the list of moadim with them?
On Yom Kippur we know that the kohen gadol has to dunk in the mikvah between every change of clothes, from gold to white and white to gold, etc. The Chasam Sofer last week in Acharei Mos writes that we understand that when the kohen gadol switches from gold garments to white so he can enter the kodesh kodashim, he is going into a holier place than normal, he will be doing avodah that is more special than normal, and so he has to go to mikveh to enter a higher state of purity. But why dunk again on the way out, to switch back to gold? That's a step down, not a step up?
The Chasam Sofer says a yesod: after the kohen has experienced the higher level he was at in the kodesh kodashim and comes out, those gold garments he changes into are not the same gold garments as before. Life is different now. It may look the same, it may fit the same, but it's not the same. The higher level the kohen was on sticks with him even as he returns to the gold garments that he wore before.
When a nazir completes his vow of nezirus, the Torah tells us, "achar yishteh ha'nazir ya'yin," afterwards the nazir can drink wine. Shem m'Shmuel asks: why does the Torah says "the nazir" can drink wine -- he is not a nazir anymore once his vow is up?! The answer is the same yesod the Chasam Sofer is telling us. The whole point of that period of abstinence is so that once the vow is complete, the person is still a nazir, he still retains his kedusha. He may be able to now drink wine, but he is not the same person as before.
Coming back to the parsha of the moadim, the Kozhiglover in Eretz Tzvi writes that the cycle of moadim is not about spending a week here and a week there in a state of holiness and the rest of the year in a different, secular world. The point of the parsha is that the week here and a week there we bask in revealed kedusha give us something to take with us and make part of the rest of our lives so that the six work days we come back to are different days than before. The same kedusha that we experienced in the mo'ed is still there afterwards, albeit in hidden form, albeit without generating an issur melacha, but it's part of our lives. "Sheishes yamim tei'aseh melacha..." is a mo'ed too.
Now the table is set for the Sefas Emes. Peshita that a guy sitting and learning is accomplishing, while someone working so he can buy himself a new car or gadget is wasting his time. There was never a hava amina otherwise. But what about the person who works as a doctor and treats the poor without charging -- is he he/she simply toiling for nothing? Is the person who spends a few hours helping a friend in need wasting his time with worthless work? That's what bothered Chazal.
Of course you get credit for poring over a Rashba in the beis medrash. But what the Midrash is telling us is that to take the Rashba out of the beis medrash, to bring G-d into everything you do, to find G-d in everything that you do, to make the "sheishes yamim..." holy too, that' takes real work. You can toil as a doctor, a plumber, a lawyer, and it can be "mah yisron l'adam b'kol amalo," or you can toil as a doctor, a plumber, a lawyer, and it can be ameilius of Torah and the highest value.
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
l'hazhir gedolim al ha'ketanim
The Rambam writes in Hil Aveilus 3:5:
המטמא את הכהן. אם היו שניהם מזידין הרי הכהן לוקה וזה שטמאו עובר על ולפני עור לא תתן מכשול. היה הכהן שוגג וזה שטמאו מזיד הרי זה שטמאו לוקה:
It's not clear in the first case, where someone is m'tamei a kohen, what wrong action the kohen did that would lead to his being chayav malkos, but even harder to understand is the second case, where the kohen is shogeg and someone is intentionally m'tamei him. Why does the m'tamei get malkos? There is lifnei iveir in causing someone to sin (like in the first case), but why more than that?
There is a parallel Rambam at the end of Kilayim 10:31:
המלביש את חבירו כלאים אם היה הלובש מזיד הלובש לוקה והמלביש עובר משום ולפני עור לא תתן מכשול. ואם לא ידע הלובש שהבגד הוא כלאים והיה המלביש מזיד המלביש לוקה והלובש פטור
And similar questions are raised there by the Kesef Mishne.
Since it relates to our parsha I want to point out a second difficulty with the Rambam. Rashi tells us at the beginning of our parsha tells us that the double-language of "amor... v'amarta" teaches "l'hazhir gedolim al ha'ketanim." The din (see Yevamos 114) is that adults are not obligated to stop children from doing issurim - "katan ochel neveilos ain beis din metzuvim l'hafrisho." A father may have to stop a child from sinning as a function of chinuch, but that's between father and child and no one else. The Tur writes that our parsha is an exception to the rule -- "l'hazhir gedolim" means adults have to intervene if the a child kohen is going to be m'tamei himself. The simple pshat in the gemara, and this is the Rambam's position, is not like the Tur. "L'hazhir gedolim" does not mean that an adult has to intervene if the child chooses to be m'tamei himself. What it means is that there is an issur of an adult being m'tamei a child, even though the child is not chayav anything.
Minchas Chinuch and others ask: why do we need a special derasha to teach us this issur to be m'tamei a child? The Rambam himself, as we saw above, holds that someone who is m'tamei a kohen is chayav malkos where the kohen himself is shogeg. What's the difference between being m'atmei a kohen who is shogeg and therefore not liable himself and being m'tamei a kohen who is a katan and therefore not liable? If the m'tamei is chayav malkos in the first case, isn't the second case obviously true by extension?
I barely have time to write up the questions, so don't hold your breath for a post with answers : (
המטמא את הכהן. אם היו שניהם מזידין הרי הכהן לוקה וזה שטמאו עובר על ולפני עור לא תתן מכשול. היה הכהן שוגג וזה שטמאו מזיד הרי זה שטמאו לוקה:
It's not clear in the first case, where someone is m'tamei a kohen, what wrong action the kohen did that would lead to his being chayav malkos, but even harder to understand is the second case, where the kohen is shogeg and someone is intentionally m'tamei him. Why does the m'tamei get malkos? There is lifnei iveir in causing someone to sin (like in the first case), but why more than that?
There is a parallel Rambam at the end of Kilayim 10:31:
המלביש את חבירו כלאים אם היה הלובש מזיד הלובש לוקה והמלביש עובר משום ולפני עור לא תתן מכשול. ואם לא ידע הלובש שהבגד הוא כלאים והיה המלביש מזיד המלביש לוקה והלובש פטור
And similar questions are raised there by the Kesef Mishne.
Since it relates to our parsha I want to point out a second difficulty with the Rambam. Rashi tells us at the beginning of our parsha tells us that the double-language of "amor... v'amarta" teaches "l'hazhir gedolim al ha'ketanim." The din (see Yevamos 114) is that adults are not obligated to stop children from doing issurim - "katan ochel neveilos ain beis din metzuvim l'hafrisho." A father may have to stop a child from sinning as a function of chinuch, but that's between father and child and no one else. The Tur writes that our parsha is an exception to the rule -- "l'hazhir gedolim" means adults have to intervene if the a child kohen is going to be m'tamei himself. The simple pshat in the gemara, and this is the Rambam's position, is not like the Tur. "L'hazhir gedolim" does not mean that an adult has to intervene if the child chooses to be m'tamei himself. What it means is that there is an issur of an adult being m'tamei a child, even though the child is not chayav anything.
Minchas Chinuch and others ask: why do we need a special derasha to teach us this issur to be m'tamei a child? The Rambam himself, as we saw above, holds that someone who is m'tamei a kohen is chayav malkos where the kohen himself is shogeg. What's the difference between being m'atmei a kohen who is shogeg and therefore not liable himself and being m'tamei a kohen who is a katan and therefore not liable? If the m'tamei is chayav malkos in the first case, isn't the second case obviously true by extension?
I barely have time to write up the questions, so don't hold your breath for a post with answers : (
Thursday, May 04, 2017
chilul Hashem -- a cheit bein adam l'chaveiro
Mitzvos apply equally to everyone and anyone chayav in them. The Torah says, for example, to eat matzah, and so whether you are Joe Ploni or whether you are R' Akiva Eiger you have to eat the same amount of matzah in the same time span. No so when it comes to the mitzvah of kedushah. The redundancy of "kol adas Bnei Yisrael," explains Netziv, means that the mitzvah of being kadosh was not given to everyone equally as a blanket one size fits all chiyuv, but rather it was given to each individual member of Klal Yisrael according to his/her ability. This would mean that for someone on a higher level, acting with greater kedusha is not a hidur, but is a necessary.
The gemara (Yoma 86) writes that teshuvah and Yom Kippur cannot wash away the sin of chilul Hashem. It can only be expiated by the sinner's death. Why should that be so? The Meshech Chochma (19:12, see Rav Cooperman's notes) quotes the derasha of Chazal (Sh 114) on the pasuk "...kol m'san'ai ahavu ma'ves" not to read it as "m'san'ai" but rather as "masni'ai" -- not "those who hate me [G-d]," but rather, "those who cause me [G-d] to be hated." If a talmid chacham does not act properly, does not dress properly, e.g. he walks around in stained clothes, does not appear dignified, then people will lose respect for Torah. Rashi in Yoma (86a d"h chilul Hashem) explains chilul Hashem means being "chotei u'machti," causing others to sin. In other words, chilul Hashem is not just an offense against G-d -- it's an offense against man, a bein adam l'chaveiro problem. Who knows how many people may have seen this "talmid chacham" who does not act properly and been negatively influenced? Who knows how many people were caused spiritual harm by his bad example? A bein adam l'chaveiro requires making restitution to those who were harmed. It's one thing to return stolen goods, to repay someone for damages caused to their property, but how to you restore faith that was has stolen from others?
The Mishna in Avos 5:18 tells us that a "chotei u'machti es ha'rabim" will not be able to do teshuvah. Bartenu explains that teshuvah is precluded because otherwise the chotei might end up on gan eden while those he led astray would be in gehenom, which would not be fair. Based on the Meshech Chochma's approach, it is impossible to do teshuvah because it is impossible to make restitution.
I was wondering if the Rambam agrees with this definition of chilul Hashem as being chotei u'machti. He writes in Yesodei haTorah 5:11:
ויש דברים אחרים שהן בכלל חילול השם. והוא שיעשה אותם אדם גדול בתורה ומפורסם בחסידות דברים שהבריות מרננים אחריו בשבילם. ואע"פ שאינן עבירות הרי זה חילל את השם כגון שלקח ואינו נותן דמי המקח לאלתר. והוא שיש לו ונמצאו המוכרים תובעין והוא מקיפן. או שירבה בשחוק או באכילה ושתיה אצל עמי הארץ וביניהן. או שדבורו עם הבריות אינו בנחת ואינו מקבלן בסבר פנים יפות אלא בעל קטטה וכעס. וכיוצא בדברים האלו הכל לפי גדלו של חכם צריך שידקדק על עצמו ויעשה לפנים משורת הדין. וכן אם דקדק החכם על עצמו והיה דבורו בנחת עם הבריות ודעתו מעורבת עמהם ומקבלם בסבר פנים יפות ונעלב מהם ואינו עולבם. מכבד להן ואפילו למקילין לו. ונושא ונותן באמונה. ולא ירבה באריחות עמי הארץ וישיבתן. ולא יראה תמיד אלא עוסק בתורה עטוף בציצית מוכתר בתפילין ועושה בכל מעשיו לפנים משורת הדין. והוא שלא יתרחק הרבה ולא ישתומם. עד שימצאו הכל מקלסין אותו ואוהבים אותו ומתאוים למעשיו הרי זה קידש את ה' ועליו הכתוב אומר ויאמר לי עבדי אתה ישראל אשר בך אתפאר:
According to Rashi, bad behavior by the talmid chacham is wrong because there is always a therefore... that follows -- therefore, people will be led astray. The Rambam doesn't mention this. It sounds like the negative behavior itself is the issue; the very fact that the "talmid chacham" falls short of what is expected of him is wrong.
The gemara (Yoma 86) writes that teshuvah and Yom Kippur cannot wash away the sin of chilul Hashem. It can only be expiated by the sinner's death. Why should that be so? The Meshech Chochma (19:12, see Rav Cooperman's notes) quotes the derasha of Chazal (Sh 114) on the pasuk "...kol m'san'ai ahavu ma'ves" not to read it as "m'san'ai" but rather as "masni'ai" -- not "those who hate me [G-d]," but rather, "those who cause me [G-d] to be hated." If a talmid chacham does not act properly, does not dress properly, e.g. he walks around in stained clothes, does not appear dignified, then people will lose respect for Torah. Rashi in Yoma (86a d"h chilul Hashem) explains chilul Hashem means being "chotei u'machti," causing others to sin. In other words, chilul Hashem is not just an offense against G-d -- it's an offense against man, a bein adam l'chaveiro problem. Who knows how many people may have seen this "talmid chacham" who does not act properly and been negatively influenced? Who knows how many people were caused spiritual harm by his bad example? A bein adam l'chaveiro requires making restitution to those who were harmed. It's one thing to return stolen goods, to repay someone for damages caused to their property, but how to you restore faith that was has stolen from others?
The Mishna in Avos 5:18 tells us that a "chotei u'machti es ha'rabim" will not be able to do teshuvah. Bartenu explains that teshuvah is precluded because otherwise the chotei might end up on gan eden while those he led astray would be in gehenom, which would not be fair. Based on the Meshech Chochma's approach, it is impossible to do teshuvah because it is impossible to make restitution.
I was wondering if the Rambam agrees with this definition of chilul Hashem as being chotei u'machti. He writes in Yesodei haTorah 5:11:
ויש דברים אחרים שהן בכלל חילול השם. והוא שיעשה אותם אדם גדול בתורה ומפורסם בחסידות דברים שהבריות מרננים אחריו בשבילם. ואע"פ שאינן עבירות הרי זה חילל את השם כגון שלקח ואינו נותן דמי המקח לאלתר. והוא שיש לו ונמצאו המוכרים תובעין והוא מקיפן. או שירבה בשחוק או באכילה ושתיה אצל עמי הארץ וביניהן. או שדבורו עם הבריות אינו בנחת ואינו מקבלן בסבר פנים יפות אלא בעל קטטה וכעס. וכיוצא בדברים האלו הכל לפי גדלו של חכם צריך שידקדק על עצמו ויעשה לפנים משורת הדין. וכן אם דקדק החכם על עצמו והיה דבורו בנחת עם הבריות ודעתו מעורבת עמהם ומקבלם בסבר פנים יפות ונעלב מהם ואינו עולבם. מכבד להן ואפילו למקילין לו. ונושא ונותן באמונה. ולא ירבה באריחות עמי הארץ וישיבתן. ולא יראה תמיד אלא עוסק בתורה עטוף בציצית מוכתר בתפילין ועושה בכל מעשיו לפנים משורת הדין. והוא שלא יתרחק הרבה ולא ישתומם. עד שימצאו הכל מקלסין אותו ואוהבים אותו ומתאוים למעשיו הרי זה קידש את ה' ועליו הכתוב אומר ויאמר לי עבדי אתה ישראל אשר בך אתפאר:
According to Rashi, bad behavior by the talmid chacham is wrong because there is always a therefore... that follows -- therefore, people will be led astray. The Rambam doesn't mention this. It sounds like the negative behavior itself is the issue; the very fact that the "talmid chacham" falls short of what is expected of him is wrong.
Thursday, April 27, 2017
only skin deep
"V'haya b'or besaro l'nega tzara'as..." Chazal tell us that as a general rule that the word "v'haya" portends something good happening. What's so good about having a nega tzara'as? (I haven't done a survey of all the places it comes up, but my off the cuff impression is that the Ohr haChaim frequently addresses how pesukim that seem to be an exception do in fact fit the rule. Interestingly, here he is silent about the issue.)
The answer in two words, says the Alshich, is "b'or besaro." Sometimes the rot you see on the surface is indicative of some deep rooted problem. Here, the Torah says that when a Jew gets tzara'as, which comes because of cheit, the sin is literally only skin deep. At his/her core, a Jew is always unspoiled. Cheit is just mikra, not b'etzem, to borrow the Maharal's formulation. It's like when you have to have your car brought to the mechanic after a collision and you think it's a goses and it's all over. When you hear that it just needs some body work to get out the dents you almost feel like saying "Baruch Hashem -- that's great!" because it means everything under the hood is OK and it will keep running. Tzara'as is a sign that repairs are needed, but there is a note of simcha there because under the hood we are all OK.
The sin that is the cause of tzara'as is lashon ha'ra, but nowhere does the Torah say not to speak lashon ha'ra. Instead, the Torah tells us to remember what Hashem did to Miriam when she spoke against Moshe. 1) If the point is to prohibit us from lashon ha'ra, then why not say so directly? 2) Hashem didn't do anything to Miriam -- Hashem doesn't deliberately choose to bring harm on people. People suffer because they bring punishment upon themselves by their behavior. If you put your hand on a hot stove, you get burned, but it's not like the stove decided to do anything -- you brought the burn upon yourself. Why does the Torah tell us to remember what Hashem did to Miriam instead of telling us to remember what Miriam did?
Sefas Emes (5638) these questions with the same yesod we learned from the Alshich. The point of "zachor eis asher asah Hashem Elokecha l'Miriam..." is not to warn us against speaking lashon ha'ra -- there are other sources for that. The pasuk is not an issur and not a threat of punishment; the pasuk is a gift of great news. An analogy: imagine someone who lives on the worst fast food out there -- the greasy, fatty, salty stuff three meals a day every day. You can serve up the most unhealthy meal and that person can eat it without a problem. If someone else who is used to eating healthy, who eats only good food prepared well, is served the same meal, they will vomit it right up. That's not a sign of weakness -- aderaba, it's a sign that their body is healthy. The whole world is busy munching on lashon ha'ra, the worst fast food for the neshoma, all day every day. Hashem here is telling us that if we try that same diet, we are going to break out in tzara'as. He made it -- it's not natually that way -- so that we can't absorb that food. It's because our neshomos are pure and healthy that we react that way.
P.S. My wife had an interesting original idea on the parsha here.
The answer in two words, says the Alshich, is "b'or besaro." Sometimes the rot you see on the surface is indicative of some deep rooted problem. Here, the Torah says that when a Jew gets tzara'as, which comes because of cheit, the sin is literally only skin deep. At his/her core, a Jew is always unspoiled. Cheit is just mikra, not b'etzem, to borrow the Maharal's formulation. It's like when you have to have your car brought to the mechanic after a collision and you think it's a goses and it's all over. When you hear that it just needs some body work to get out the dents you almost feel like saying "Baruch Hashem -- that's great!" because it means everything under the hood is OK and it will keep running. Tzara'as is a sign that repairs are needed, but there is a note of simcha there because under the hood we are all OK.
The sin that is the cause of tzara'as is lashon ha'ra, but nowhere does the Torah say not to speak lashon ha'ra. Instead, the Torah tells us to remember what Hashem did to Miriam when she spoke against Moshe. 1) If the point is to prohibit us from lashon ha'ra, then why not say so directly? 2) Hashem didn't do anything to Miriam -- Hashem doesn't deliberately choose to bring harm on people. People suffer because they bring punishment upon themselves by their behavior. If you put your hand on a hot stove, you get burned, but it's not like the stove decided to do anything -- you brought the burn upon yourself. Why does the Torah tell us to remember what Hashem did to Miriam instead of telling us to remember what Miriam did?
Sefas Emes (5638) these questions with the same yesod we learned from the Alshich. The point of "zachor eis asher asah Hashem Elokecha l'Miriam..." is not to warn us against speaking lashon ha'ra -- there are other sources for that. The pasuk is not an issur and not a threat of punishment; the pasuk is a gift of great news. An analogy: imagine someone who lives on the worst fast food out there -- the greasy, fatty, salty stuff three meals a day every day. You can serve up the most unhealthy meal and that person can eat it without a problem. If someone else who is used to eating healthy, who eats only good food prepared well, is served the same meal, they will vomit it right up. That's not a sign of weakness -- aderaba, it's a sign that their body is healthy. The whole world is busy munching on lashon ha'ra, the worst fast food for the neshoma, all day every day. Hashem here is telling us that if we try that same diet, we are going to break out in tzara'as. He made it -- it's not natually that way -- so that we can't absorb that food. It's because our neshomos are pure and healthy that we react that way.
P.S. My wife had an interesting original idea on the parsha here.
Thursday, April 20, 2017
welcome to the big leagues
Isn't it amazing how people descend on supermarkets like a swarm of locusts and buy out every crumb of chameitz as soon as Pesach is over? It defies rational explanation. I expect to eventually see someone setup a tent on Central Ave in the 5 Towns on chol ha'moed so they can camp out in front of the pizza store to be first on line to get that first pie after Yom Tov. Anyway, welcome back everybody!
"Yom ha'shmini," the day the opening of our parsha focusses on, was one of the greatest days in history. Chazal (Shabbos 87) tell us that the day had 10 crowns, i.e. there were 10 reasons why the day was special, from it being the day on which creation happened to it being the day in which the mishkan was inaugurated and Aharon began serving as kohen gadol. It was opening day x10. Yet Rashi writes in Yisro (Shmos 24:9) that Nadav and Avihu were really chayav misa back then for improperly gazing at Hashem's presence (whatever that means) but Hashem let the cheit go until our parsha so as to not disrupt the joy of kabbalas haTorah. "Yom ha'shmini," as joyous and great as it was, could be marred by Nadav and Avihu's death, but the simcha of Torah cannot be disturbed. There is no simcha as great as the simcha of Torah.
During the 7 days of milu'im Moshe brought korbanos on behalf of Aharon and his children. Among them was a par offered as a chatas, which was meant, explains Rashi (Shmos 19:1), as a kapparah for cheit ha'eigel. In our parsha we read that on yom ha'shmini Aharon himself offered the korbanos, and among them was an eigel offered as a chatas meant, as Rashi (9:2) explains, as a kapparah for cheit ha'eigel. Didn't we do that already? Why did Aharon need to bring another chatas for kapprah for cheit ha'eigel when korbanos had been offered for that purpose during the milu'im?
Maharal in Gur Aryeh answers (not exactly in these words) that it's like a minor league player who is the talk of the triple A league, but then makes it to the majors and finds his ability questioned on the back pages every time he has a bad game. Those very same back pages of the newspaper had only the highest praise when he was in the minors, so what changed? The answer is simple: welcome to the big leagues. Stepping up to the next level invites greater scrutiny and demands greater accountability.
The Midrash darshens "u'Pharoah hikriv" by Yam Suf (why hitpa'el?) that we just read at the end of Peach as telling us that Pharoah's pursuit of Klal Yisrael inspired them to teshuvah more than any words of mudsar or chastisement could have done. But what was Klal Yisrael doing teshuvah for? They had just come from offering korban pesach, doing milah, experiencing yetzi'as Mitzrayim, not from any wrongdoing (see Imrei Emes)? Perhaps the point is the same: davka because they were now free from Egypt, free from the environment that dragged them down to sin, Klal Yisrael had a greater responsibility to introspect and improve further. Climbing to the next level does not absolve one from obligation -- it creates greater obligations.
"Yom ha'shmini" was a different league from the 7 days of milu'im. Kapparah that may have sufficed in the past now needs to be re-examined and taken to another level.
I have the old edition of the Maharal at home and that's how I understood the point when I read it, but then I saw in Rav Hartman's footnotes in the new edition that he understands it a bit differently. Maharal holds that there are certain pivotal moments in Jewish history. Just as we hopefully want to seize those moments for good, the yetzer ha'ra works even harder than usual to thwart us and turn those moments sour. That's why we find that during what should have been a time of spiritual greatness, matan Torah, there was a cheit ha'eigel. Precisely because there was such positive energy, there was a counterbalancing of explosive negative energy that the yetzer marshaled to thwart us. So too, at the time of "yom ha'shmini," because this day was a pivotal moment, an extra kapparah was needed so as to not have a recurrence of an eigel situation.
Perhaps this sheds light on why Moshe reacted with anger when he saw what he thought was an error being made and korbanos being disposed of and not eaten after Aharon and his sons became aveilim. R' Simcha Zisel of Kelm puts it in context: Aharon has just lost his sons; his other children have lost their brother. Even if they were in error in disposing of the korbanos, wouldn't it be understandable given their grief? Did they deserve to be questioned so harshly? Yet the greater context is that this is a one time pivotal moment in Jewish history, a day that can never be duplicated. Evil lurks waiting to once again spoilt the show. As sensitive as he was to his brother's and nephew's plight, Moshe was also sensitive to history hanging in the balance.
Speaking of auspicious days in Jewish history, this is a great article by Shmuel Sackett.
"Yom ha'shmini," the day the opening of our parsha focusses on, was one of the greatest days in history. Chazal (Shabbos 87) tell us that the day had 10 crowns, i.e. there were 10 reasons why the day was special, from it being the day on which creation happened to it being the day in which the mishkan was inaugurated and Aharon began serving as kohen gadol. It was opening day x10. Yet Rashi writes in Yisro (Shmos 24:9) that Nadav and Avihu were really chayav misa back then for improperly gazing at Hashem's presence (whatever that means) but Hashem let the cheit go until our parsha so as to not disrupt the joy of kabbalas haTorah. "Yom ha'shmini," as joyous and great as it was, could be marred by Nadav and Avihu's death, but the simcha of Torah cannot be disturbed. There is no simcha as great as the simcha of Torah.
During the 7 days of milu'im Moshe brought korbanos on behalf of Aharon and his children. Among them was a par offered as a chatas, which was meant, explains Rashi (Shmos 19:1), as a kapparah for cheit ha'eigel. In our parsha we read that on yom ha'shmini Aharon himself offered the korbanos, and among them was an eigel offered as a chatas meant, as Rashi (9:2) explains, as a kapparah for cheit ha'eigel. Didn't we do that already? Why did Aharon need to bring another chatas for kapprah for cheit ha'eigel when korbanos had been offered for that purpose during the milu'im?
Maharal in Gur Aryeh answers (not exactly in these words) that it's like a minor league player who is the talk of the triple A league, but then makes it to the majors and finds his ability questioned on the back pages every time he has a bad game. Those very same back pages of the newspaper had only the highest praise when he was in the minors, so what changed? The answer is simple: welcome to the big leagues. Stepping up to the next level invites greater scrutiny and demands greater accountability.
The Midrash darshens "u'Pharoah hikriv" by Yam Suf (why hitpa'el?) that we just read at the end of Peach as telling us that Pharoah's pursuit of Klal Yisrael inspired them to teshuvah more than any words of mudsar or chastisement could have done. But what was Klal Yisrael doing teshuvah for? They had just come from offering korban pesach, doing milah, experiencing yetzi'as Mitzrayim, not from any wrongdoing (see Imrei Emes)? Perhaps the point is the same: davka because they were now free from Egypt, free from the environment that dragged them down to sin, Klal Yisrael had a greater responsibility to introspect and improve further. Climbing to the next level does not absolve one from obligation -- it creates greater obligations.
"Yom ha'shmini" was a different league from the 7 days of milu'im. Kapparah that may have sufficed in the past now needs to be re-examined and taken to another level.
I have the old edition of the Maharal at home and that's how I understood the point when I read it, but then I saw in Rav Hartman's footnotes in the new edition that he understands it a bit differently. Maharal holds that there are certain pivotal moments in Jewish history. Just as we hopefully want to seize those moments for good, the yetzer ha'ra works even harder than usual to thwart us and turn those moments sour. That's why we find that during what should have been a time of spiritual greatness, matan Torah, there was a cheit ha'eigel. Precisely because there was such positive energy, there was a counterbalancing of explosive negative energy that the yetzer marshaled to thwart us. So too, at the time of "yom ha'shmini," because this day was a pivotal moment, an extra kapparah was needed so as to not have a recurrence of an eigel situation.
Perhaps this sheds light on why Moshe reacted with anger when he saw what he thought was an error being made and korbanos being disposed of and not eaten after Aharon and his sons became aveilim. R' Simcha Zisel of Kelm puts it in context: Aharon has just lost his sons; his other children have lost their brother. Even if they were in error in disposing of the korbanos, wouldn't it be understandable given their grief? Did they deserve to be questioned so harshly? Yet the greater context is that this is a one time pivotal moment in Jewish history, a day that can never be duplicated. Evil lurks waiting to once again spoilt the show. As sensitive as he was to his brother's and nephew's plight, Moshe was also sensitive to history hanging in the balance.
Speaking of auspicious days in Jewish history, this is a great article by Shmuel Sackett.
Thursday, March 30, 2017
why no minachos of chameitz
It is very hard to make time to go through these parshiyos properly when there is so much to do for Pesach. Kabbalists say there is some powerful tikun that can be accomplished if you sweat when baking matzah. I don't understand such ideas, but I do understand that you can accomplish a lot of you sweat while cleaning for Pesach.
The Netziv (2:11) has a nice explanation of why you can't bring a korban mincha that is chametz. The Ohr haChaim at the beginning of Parshas Tazria quotes a Tanchuma that records a conversation between R' Akiva and Turnusrufus. Turnusrufus was bothered by why we have a mitzvah of milah -- if G-d made us araleim, then why should we tamper with his creation? R' Akiva responded by asking Turnusrufus whether he thought a stalk of wheat was better than a loaf of bread. It's a rhetorical question -- of course we all prefer to eat the bread. G-d gave us the world to perfect, to improve, to mold. We are supposed to turn the wheat into bread. In the process, we ourselves grow. For our purpose, what's important is the example the Midrash uses of man's work making a difference -- the baking of bread. A whole chunk of meleches Shabbos, the paradigm of what creative work is all about, is devoted to the steps of siddura d'pas, the labor involved in making bread. In a similar vein, the Midrash and Yerushalmi (43a in the Vilna ed, see Ridbaz there) explain the machlokes R' Nachman and Chachamim whether the nusach ha'bracha is "ha'motzi lechem min ha'aretz" or "motzi..." is not just a technical grammatical issue, whether the word "motzi" is past tense or not (as the Bavli explains), but is l'shitasam as to whether the tree Adam haRishon ate from was a loaf of bread. R' Nachman holds that in gan eden bread literally grew on trees -- man didn't need to work to produce it; therefore, you can saw "motzi," past tense, because at the time of creation G-d, not man, made the bread. Chachamim hold that we need to use the future tense because, as the gemara in Kesubos tells us, it is only in the time of future geulah that this bracha of bread growing on trees will be realized. In the here and now, however, in between gan eden and the future geulah, the only way we can get that bread is if we put our own effort = hishtadlus into making it. The Netziv on our pasuk tells us that this requirement of histadlus is inversely proportional to the level of ruchniyus a person is on. The closer a person is to holiness, the less hishtadlus is needed. In gan eden and when geulah happens, when we are really close with G-d, there is no need at all for our baking bread. So too, when you come to the Mikdash, writes the Netziv, that's not the place to bring your bread. "Adam ki yakriv" -- when we bring korbanos, we reach back in history to imitate like Adam haRishon (see Chasam Sofer) in gan eden, when bread grew on trees, and when it didn't need to come from us.
Pesach is such a special time that for a week we put aside our baking bread, our hishtadlus, and we let G-d take care of everything.
The Netziv (2:11) has a nice explanation of why you can't bring a korban mincha that is chametz. The Ohr haChaim at the beginning of Parshas Tazria quotes a Tanchuma that records a conversation between R' Akiva and Turnusrufus. Turnusrufus was bothered by why we have a mitzvah of milah -- if G-d made us araleim, then why should we tamper with his creation? R' Akiva responded by asking Turnusrufus whether he thought a stalk of wheat was better than a loaf of bread. It's a rhetorical question -- of course we all prefer to eat the bread. G-d gave us the world to perfect, to improve, to mold. We are supposed to turn the wheat into bread. In the process, we ourselves grow. For our purpose, what's important is the example the Midrash uses of man's work making a difference -- the baking of bread. A whole chunk of meleches Shabbos, the paradigm of what creative work is all about, is devoted to the steps of siddura d'pas, the labor involved in making bread. In a similar vein, the Midrash and Yerushalmi (43a in the Vilna ed, see Ridbaz there) explain the machlokes R' Nachman and Chachamim whether the nusach ha'bracha is "ha'motzi lechem min ha'aretz" or "motzi..." is not just a technical grammatical issue, whether the word "motzi" is past tense or not (as the Bavli explains), but is l'shitasam as to whether the tree Adam haRishon ate from was a loaf of bread. R' Nachman holds that in gan eden bread literally grew on trees -- man didn't need to work to produce it; therefore, you can saw "motzi," past tense, because at the time of creation G-d, not man, made the bread. Chachamim hold that we need to use the future tense because, as the gemara in Kesubos tells us, it is only in the time of future geulah that this bracha of bread growing on trees will be realized. In the here and now, however, in between gan eden and the future geulah, the only way we can get that bread is if we put our own effort = hishtadlus into making it. The Netziv on our pasuk tells us that this requirement of histadlus is inversely proportional to the level of ruchniyus a person is on. The closer a person is to holiness, the less hishtadlus is needed. In gan eden and when geulah happens, when we are really close with G-d, there is no need at all for our baking bread. So too, when you come to the Mikdash, writes the Netziv, that's not the place to bring your bread. "Adam ki yakriv" -- when we bring korbanos, we reach back in history to imitate like Adam haRishon (see Chasam Sofer) in gan eden, when bread grew on trees, and when it didn't need to come from us.
Pesach is such a special time that for a week we put aside our baking bread, our hishtadlus, and we let G-d take care of everything.
Thursday, March 23, 2017
the difference a comma makes
1. Rashi 26:15 writes that the atzei shitim used to make the mishkan came from trees that Ya'akov Avinu had planted in Egypt which Bnei Yisrael took with them when they left. R' Ya'akov Kaminetzki in Emes l'Ya'akov explains that what Ya'akov Avinu planted was not trees for wood -- in the 210 years (which had the potential to be 400 years) until they left Egypt Bnei Yisrael could have managed to find some other wood to take. What Ya'akov Avinu planted was hope. To simply tell Bnei Yisrael that one day there would be a geulah would not have made much of an impression. To take action, to plant in anticipation of the geulah, showed them that it was real. (The lesson for us in that simply talking about the beauty of Torah is not enough. We have to act on that belief and live it.)
Ibn Ezra at the beginning of Terumah challenges Rashi based (among other things) on a pasuk from our parsha. The Torah writes, "...v'chol asher nimtza ito atzei shitim l'chol milechas ha'avodah hei'vi'u." (35:26) The term "nimtza ito" means the wood belonged to those people. It was theirs and they were donating it of their own accord -- it wasn't something that Ya'akov had prepared beforehand just for use in the mishkan.
It sounds like the machlokes Rashi and Ibn Ezra revolves around where to place the comma in the pasuk. Ibn Ezra read it like this: "...v'chol asher nimtza ito atzei shitim," whoever has wood, COMMA, "l'chol milechas ha'avodah hei'vi'u," brought it for the holy work. Rashi, however, may have read it like this: "...v'chol asher nimtza ito atzei shitim l'chol milechas ha'avodah," whoever was entrusted to keep with them wood that was meant to be used [as designated by Ya'akov] for the mishkan, COMMA, "hei'vi'u," they brought it.
2.When there was no longer a need for donations for the Miskhan, the parsha tells us that an announcement went out, "al ya'asu od melacha." When the people heard that, "va'yikaleh ha'am mei'havi," the people stopped bringing donations. Meforshim (see Seforno, Rashbam, Chizkuni) are medayek that the announcement did not say not to bring anything, but rather not to make anything. Ksav Sofer explains this based on the din that hazmanah lav milsa hi, designating an item for some use has no halachic effect unless some action was taken in making the item or in using the item for that purpose (see Sanhedrin 47). It's only if something was made for the sake of the mishkan that it would become assur; therefore, the call went out to stop making things. The people understood on their own that this meant nothing new was needed, and so they stopped bringing as well.
I'm a little confused. True, hazmanah lav milsa, but there is another din of amiraso l'gavoha k'mesiraso l'hedyot, that pledging something for hekdesh use makes it the property of hekdesh. Had something been brought to the mishkan, even if not made for use there, wouldn't it become property of the mishkan by virtue of amiraso l'gavoha? Shouldn't the people have been told to stop bringing things lest the extra become property of the mishkan by virtue of amiraso l'gavoha?
P.S. Apologies for not getting to respond to comments on last week's post.
Ibn Ezra at the beginning of Terumah challenges Rashi based (among other things) on a pasuk from our parsha. The Torah writes, "...v'chol asher nimtza ito atzei shitim l'chol milechas ha'avodah hei'vi'u." (35:26) The term "nimtza ito" means the wood belonged to those people. It was theirs and they were donating it of their own accord -- it wasn't something that Ya'akov had prepared beforehand just for use in the mishkan.
It sounds like the machlokes Rashi and Ibn Ezra revolves around where to place the comma in the pasuk. Ibn Ezra read it like this: "...v'chol asher nimtza ito atzei shitim," whoever has wood, COMMA, "l'chol milechas ha'avodah hei'vi'u," brought it for the holy work. Rashi, however, may have read it like this: "...v'chol asher nimtza ito atzei shitim l'chol milechas ha'avodah," whoever was entrusted to keep with them wood that was meant to be used [as designated by Ya'akov] for the mishkan, COMMA, "hei'vi'u," they brought it.
2.When there was no longer a need for donations for the Miskhan, the parsha tells us that an announcement went out, "al ya'asu od melacha." When the people heard that, "va'yikaleh ha'am mei'havi," the people stopped bringing donations. Meforshim (see Seforno, Rashbam, Chizkuni) are medayek that the announcement did not say not to bring anything, but rather not to make anything. Ksav Sofer explains this based on the din that hazmanah lav milsa hi, designating an item for some use has no halachic effect unless some action was taken in making the item or in using the item for that purpose (see Sanhedrin 47). It's only if something was made for the sake of the mishkan that it would become assur; therefore, the call went out to stop making things. The people understood on their own that this meant nothing new was needed, and so they stopped bringing as well.
I'm a little confused. True, hazmanah lav milsa, but there is another din of amiraso l'gavoha k'mesiraso l'hedyot, that pledging something for hekdesh use makes it the property of hekdesh. Had something been brought to the mishkan, even if not made for use there, wouldn't it become property of the mishkan by virtue of amiraso l'gavoha? Shouldn't the people have been told to stop bringing things lest the extra become property of the mishkan by virtue of amiraso l'gavoha?
P.S. Apologies for not getting to respond to comments on last week's post.
Thursday, March 16, 2017
a sin worse than cheit ha'eigel
The Ohr haChaim (32:1) writes that the Torah only alludes to the murder of Chur by the eigel worshippers, but spells out in great detail all aspects of the cheit ha'eigel itself because the story of cheit ha'eigel is not about the tragedy of sin, but rather is about the possibility of redemption. Chazal (A"Z 4b) tell us that if the community sins they should remember the cheit ha'eigel, as it teaches us the possibility of communal teshuvah. The sin of Chur's murder was never atoned for, and so, rather than leave the blot on the record of Klal Yisrael, the Torah only alludes to it in passing. Klal Yisrael did do teshuvah for the cheit ha'eigel, and therefore the Torah makes it the focal point.
"Ra'isi es ha'am ha'zeh v'hinei am k'sheh oref hu" -- can there be a more damning statement than that? The Ishbitzer (in Beis Ya'akov), however, turns the statement on its head. The navi (Chavakuk 1:13) tells us that G-d is "t'hor einayim mei're'os ra v'hibit el amal lo tochal." G-d cannot bear the sight of evil; he will not look at it. "Ra'isi es ha'am ha'zeh," G-d tells Moshe that he sees Bnei Yisrael -- despite their sin, he still is looking at them. Their essence is still pure. Again, the story the Torah is telling us is one of redemption.
Coming back to Chur (and if someone can explain why he deserved to die, please leave me a comment), the gemara (Sanhedrin 7) explains that it was the sight of his being killed by the mob that led Aharon to make the eigel. "Im yei'hareig b'mikdash Hashem kohen v'navi," the murder of a kohen and navi together (true, Har Sinai is not the mikdash and the avodah had not yet been given over to kohanim -- see Maharasha) together are unforgivable. Aharon thought that with Chur the navi killed, if he protests against the mob and they kill him, it's all over. The eigel was in this case the lesser of two evils.
Why is that so? Why is killing a navi and kohen together a more heinous crime than even idol worship? Maharasha explains that the kohanim are the teachers of Torah and the nevi'im convey the dvar Hashem. They are the bearers of the mesorah. It is one thing to have a mesorah and to do wrong, even to the point of idolatry. It's a far worse thing to completely destroy and eradicate that mesorah.
So the people sin, and Moshe comes to the rescue with his tefilah. "Zechor l'Avraham l'Yitzchak ul'Yisrael... v'kol ha'aretz ha'zos... etein l'zarachem v'nachalu l'olam." Moshe calls on the zechus of the avos, and refers specifically to G-d's promise to grant Eretz Yisrael to them and their children for eternity. Why would that promise carry weight after the people had sinned? The Avos were always worried "shema yigrom ha'cheit" and they would prove undeserving -- wasn't Moshe worried that the cheit ha'eigel may have made the people undeserving? See Seforno, Netziv, and perhaps one could argue that Klal Yisrael as a whole can never be completely undeserving as a nation (see R' Tzadok in Pri Tzadik on the parsha of the bris bein ha'besarim). R' Yonasan Eibshitz says a beautiful yesod to answer his question. He writes that it's only in Eretz Yisrael that we can truly come to be zocheh in Torah. That was the purpose of promising the land to the Avos and their descendants. Moshe was telling G-d that since the Jewish people have not yet come into Eretz Yisrael, since that promise was yet unfulfilled, how then can he blame Klal Yisrael for their wrongdoing? How can he hold them accountable for a breach of Torah when all they have learned is the Torah of galus and have not yet experienced the real thing?
Baruch Hashem, we are on the road to getting back to the real thing and need to take advantage.
"Ra'isi es ha'am ha'zeh v'hinei am k'sheh oref hu" -- can there be a more damning statement than that? The Ishbitzer (in Beis Ya'akov), however, turns the statement on its head. The navi (Chavakuk 1:13) tells us that G-d is "t'hor einayim mei're'os ra v'hibit el amal lo tochal." G-d cannot bear the sight of evil; he will not look at it. "Ra'isi es ha'am ha'zeh," G-d tells Moshe that he sees Bnei Yisrael -- despite their sin, he still is looking at them. Their essence is still pure. Again, the story the Torah is telling us is one of redemption.
Coming back to Chur (and if someone can explain why he deserved to die, please leave me a comment), the gemara (Sanhedrin 7) explains that it was the sight of his being killed by the mob that led Aharon to make the eigel. "Im yei'hareig b'mikdash Hashem kohen v'navi," the murder of a kohen and navi together (true, Har Sinai is not the mikdash and the avodah had not yet been given over to kohanim -- see Maharasha) together are unforgivable. Aharon thought that with Chur the navi killed, if he protests against the mob and they kill him, it's all over. The eigel was in this case the lesser of two evils.
Why is that so? Why is killing a navi and kohen together a more heinous crime than even idol worship? Maharasha explains that the kohanim are the teachers of Torah and the nevi'im convey the dvar Hashem. They are the bearers of the mesorah. It is one thing to have a mesorah and to do wrong, even to the point of idolatry. It's a far worse thing to completely destroy and eradicate that mesorah.
So the people sin, and Moshe comes to the rescue with his tefilah. "Zechor l'Avraham l'Yitzchak ul'Yisrael... v'kol ha'aretz ha'zos... etein l'zarachem v'nachalu l'olam." Moshe calls on the zechus of the avos, and refers specifically to G-d's promise to grant Eretz Yisrael to them and their children for eternity. Why would that promise carry weight after the people had sinned? The Avos were always worried "shema yigrom ha'cheit" and they would prove undeserving -- wasn't Moshe worried that the cheit ha'eigel may have made the people undeserving? See Seforno, Netziv, and perhaps one could argue that Klal Yisrael as a whole can never be completely undeserving as a nation (see R' Tzadok in Pri Tzadik on the parsha of the bris bein ha'besarim). R' Yonasan Eibshitz says a beautiful yesod to answer his question. He writes that it's only in Eretz Yisrael that we can truly come to be zocheh in Torah. That was the purpose of promising the land to the Avos and their descendants. Moshe was telling G-d that since the Jewish people have not yet come into Eretz Yisrael, since that promise was yet unfulfilled, how then can he blame Klal Yisrael for their wrongdoing? How can he hold them accountable for a breach of Torah when all they have learned is the Torah of galus and have not yet experienced the real thing?
Baruch Hashem, we are on the road to getting back to the real thing and need to take advantage.
Sunday, March 12, 2017
why purim is an eis ratzon
Why is Purim an eis ratzon for tefilah?
Some explain that it's based on the din that requires us to give charity to whoever asks for it on Purim, no questions asked. When we approach G-d with our hand outstretched, he has to give also, no questions asked.
Rav Shteinman offered a different reason. Drive around any neighborhood on Purim and you see people giving gifts of mishloach manos to friends and neighbors. You see money being given to poor people. You see yeshiva bochrim collecting for one institution after another. When Jews express such love for each other, says R' Shteinman, when Jews are willing to help one another, it's no wonder that G-d is happy and is willing to listen to us.
Some explain that it's based on the din that requires us to give charity to whoever asks for it on Purim, no questions asked. When we approach G-d with our hand outstretched, he has to give also, no questions asked.
Rav Shteinman offered a different reason. Drive around any neighborhood on Purim and you see people giving gifts of mishloach manos to friends and neighbors. You see money being given to poor people. You see yeshiva bochrim collecting for one institution after another. When Jews express such love for each other, says R' Shteinman, when Jews are willing to help one another, it's no wonder that G-d is happy and is willing to listen to us.
Thursday, March 09, 2017
assorted ideas on zachor and Purim
1. The Shem m'Shmuel (5677) notes that the instructions for war in the haftarah are all expressed in the singular, e.g. G-d tells Shaul, "leich v'hikisa es Amalak...," "va'yomer Shaul el ha'Keini" to leave the area, "va'yach Shaul es Amalek" as the war begins. Shaul is blamed for sparing Agag; Shaul loses the throne. It's all about Shaul, with almost no attention paid to the nation as a whole and their sin in not finishing off Amalek.
"V'atah titzaveh es Bnei Yisrael v'yikchu eilecha shemen zayis zach..." Why, asks Ramban, doesn't our parsha use the the simpler formulation of "tzav es Bnei Yisrael..." that is found so often in the Torah? R' Shimon Sofer (Sha'arei Simcha) reminds us (as we've discussed before) that the menorah represents the light of Torah; the squeezing of the oil is the ameilus of learning. The way to convey the light of Torah to others and encourage them to bring their own light into the world is by living a life of Torah oneself. "Atah titzaveh" -- embody the ideal in yourself, and others will follow.
Had Shaul truly embodied the hatred for Amalek that Hashem expected, then the nation would have risen to the challenge of defeating their enemy (see Sefas Emes 5646 for a little deeper insight.)
2. Rav Amram Gaon (quoted in the Hag. Maimoni at the end of Hil Megilah) holds that one should not recite al ha'nisim in ma'ariv of Purim night because it cannot be said until after one has heard the megillah. Why should al ha'nisim be different than ya'aleh v'yavo, which we recite in ma'ariv as soon as Yom Tov or Rosh Chodesh starts?
My son suggested that while the chiyuv to say ya'aleh v'yavo stems from the kedushas ha'yom of yom tov, the chiyuv to say al ha'nisim stems from a requirement to make a zecher of the nes itself. Therefore, until one has read megillah and reminded onself of what the nes is all about, one has no chiyuv to say al ha'nisim.
(What about on Chanukah? R'av Amram Gaon does not say that you have to wait until after hadlakas neiros to say al ha'nisim? My son suggested that the chiyuv of hadlakas menorah is different than the chiyuv of reading megillah. Lighting is a commemoration of the miracle, but it doesn't tell the story of the miracle. That is unique to megillah.)
3. Every detail of the megillah is necessary to tell the story of the nes, writes the Sefas Emes. Each snapshot of history and dialogue included in the megillah is like a puzzle piece that, when combined with all the other pieces, gives us the full picture.
We read in 2:11 that, "B'chol yom v'yom Mordechai mis'haleich lifnei chatzar beis ha'nashim," that every single day Mordechai would visit the woman's court to check on Esther and see how she was faring. Every day! My mother would love it if I called her every day, but I am remiss in doing so more often than not. It's a nice thing to do. It was nice of Mordechai to check up on Esther every day. However, is this really necessary to know in the grand scheme of the whole story? Ok, so maybe I learn a musar haskel to call my mother more often, but why is this important to the story of the megillah?
The answer comes next chapter: "Vaye'hi k'amram eilev yom va'yom..." Every single day Mordechai had to answer the same question: "Why don't you bow to Haman?" When are you going to give in and do what everybody else does. Every day! This is the important part of the story, the issue that will push Haman into hatching his plot and reveal Mordechai as a tzadik. Explains the Sefas Emes, it's only someone who realizes the value of every single day showing concern for others, someone who each and every day takes the time to care for someone like an orphaned girl all alone trapped in the king's palace, those who have no one else to care for them, it's only that person who can rise to the challenge each and every day of answering Haman and his advisors.
4. The Aruch haShulchan proves that to fulfill having a "mishteh" you have to wash and eat bread from the fact that when Lot made a "mishteh" for his visitors, the pasuk tells us "matzos afah va'yocheilu," he baked matzah/bread for them to eat. I would have thought the opposite was true -- since the pasuk has to go out of its way to tell us that he served bread, mistama the word "mishteh" does not include that. But what do I know.
5. Chazal tell us that if a someone happens to drop money and a poor person picks it up, the person gets credit for fulfilling the mitzvah of tzedakah (see Rashi Ki Teitzei 24:19). The giver may have not even wanted to give away anything, but it doesn't matter, since apparently the kiyum mitzvah of tzedaka is measured based on the to'eles, on the end result of the poor's needs being met. The act of giving is just a means to an end; therefore, whether done intentionally or unintentionally, it's all the same.
What about matanos l'evyonim? Is it the giving which is critical, or is the end result of someone receiving a gift? Nafka minah: can you mail a check beforehand that will arrive in the poor person's mailbox on Purim? Do you have to do the act of giving on Purim day, or is all that matters the fact that the poor receive the gift?
The Ritva (Meg 7) writes that on Purim one doesn't have to be careful who one gives to -- whoever asks for charity, gets -- because the funds distributed on Purim are not for the sake of charity, but rather are for the sake of bringing simcha. In other words, even if the recipient turns out not in truth not to be poor, that's not your concern, because even though the to'eles of the mitzvah of tzedaka was not met, the goal of giving money on Purim is not tzedaka but simcha. R' Noson Gestetner proves from here that unlike tzedakah, the mitzvah of matanos l'evyonim is not measured by the result, but rather is all about the act of giving.
I don't understand his proof from this Ritva. Maybe matanos l'evyonim is in fact about the result, but the result we look for is not whether the needs of a poor person have been met (like the mitzvah of tzedaka) but rather the result we are looking for is whether we have made someone happy.
6. The gemara (18a) says that no one really knows what "achashderanim bnei ha'ramachim" (Esther 8:10) are. Rashash on the spot says that there has to be some peshuto shel mikra here and so he suggests that "achashderanim" means the people of a place by that name, which he identifies a "Astarchan" in Russia. Any idea what place he is referring to? (I am reminded of the riders of Rohan when I read these words, and if you don't know what I am talking about, good for you.)
7. "Chayav inish l'besumei..." The gemara tells us that when the Torah was given there was a beautiful fragrant odor of spices, besamim, that filled the world. On Purim, we reaffirm our kabbalas haTorah and once again, writes the Sefas Emes, the fragrance of Torah fills the air.
"Akatei avdei Achashveirosh anan," we are sill under the rule of Achashveirosh, the gemara says, and therefore there is no hallel on Purim. Even after all was said and done, after the defeat of Haman, Jews were still in galus. But, says the Chasam Sofer, this gufa is why Purim is so filled with simcha. The Purim miracle proved that even in the darkness of galus, Hashem was there watching out for us. Chazal writes that wine was created for the sake of nichun aveilim, as it allows one to put aside one's troubles. Chasam Sofer in his derashos says that this is why we drink on Purim. Put aside the galus, forget the tzarah, put aside the "akatei avdei Achashveirosh anan," and remember that despite all that, Hashem is still there to help.
"V'atah titzaveh es Bnei Yisrael v'yikchu eilecha shemen zayis zach..." Why, asks Ramban, doesn't our parsha use the the simpler formulation of "tzav es Bnei Yisrael..." that is found so often in the Torah? R' Shimon Sofer (Sha'arei Simcha) reminds us (as we've discussed before) that the menorah represents the light of Torah; the squeezing of the oil is the ameilus of learning. The way to convey the light of Torah to others and encourage them to bring their own light into the world is by living a life of Torah oneself. "Atah titzaveh" -- embody the ideal in yourself, and others will follow.
Had Shaul truly embodied the hatred for Amalek that Hashem expected, then the nation would have risen to the challenge of defeating their enemy (see Sefas Emes 5646 for a little deeper insight.)
2. Rav Amram Gaon (quoted in the Hag. Maimoni at the end of Hil Megilah) holds that one should not recite al ha'nisim in ma'ariv of Purim night because it cannot be said until after one has heard the megillah. Why should al ha'nisim be different than ya'aleh v'yavo, which we recite in ma'ariv as soon as Yom Tov or Rosh Chodesh starts?
My son suggested that while the chiyuv to say ya'aleh v'yavo stems from the kedushas ha'yom of yom tov, the chiyuv to say al ha'nisim stems from a requirement to make a zecher of the nes itself. Therefore, until one has read megillah and reminded onself of what the nes is all about, one has no chiyuv to say al ha'nisim.
(What about on Chanukah? R'av Amram Gaon does not say that you have to wait until after hadlakas neiros to say al ha'nisim? My son suggested that the chiyuv of hadlakas menorah is different than the chiyuv of reading megillah. Lighting is a commemoration of the miracle, but it doesn't tell the story of the miracle. That is unique to megillah.)
3. Every detail of the megillah is necessary to tell the story of the nes, writes the Sefas Emes. Each snapshot of history and dialogue included in the megillah is like a puzzle piece that, when combined with all the other pieces, gives us the full picture.
We read in 2:11 that, "B'chol yom v'yom Mordechai mis'haleich lifnei chatzar beis ha'nashim," that every single day Mordechai would visit the woman's court to check on Esther and see how she was faring. Every day! My mother would love it if I called her every day, but I am remiss in doing so more often than not. It's a nice thing to do. It was nice of Mordechai to check up on Esther every day. However, is this really necessary to know in the grand scheme of the whole story? Ok, so maybe I learn a musar haskel to call my mother more often, but why is this important to the story of the megillah?
The answer comes next chapter: "Vaye'hi k'amram eilev yom va'yom..." Every single day Mordechai had to answer the same question: "Why don't you bow to Haman?" When are you going to give in and do what everybody else does. Every day! This is the important part of the story, the issue that will push Haman into hatching his plot and reveal Mordechai as a tzadik. Explains the Sefas Emes, it's only someone who realizes the value of every single day showing concern for others, someone who each and every day takes the time to care for someone like an orphaned girl all alone trapped in the king's palace, those who have no one else to care for them, it's only that person who can rise to the challenge each and every day of answering Haman and his advisors.
4. The Aruch haShulchan proves that to fulfill having a "mishteh" you have to wash and eat bread from the fact that when Lot made a "mishteh" for his visitors, the pasuk tells us "matzos afah va'yocheilu," he baked matzah/bread for them to eat. I would have thought the opposite was true -- since the pasuk has to go out of its way to tell us that he served bread, mistama the word "mishteh" does not include that. But what do I know.
5. Chazal tell us that if a someone happens to drop money and a poor person picks it up, the person gets credit for fulfilling the mitzvah of tzedakah (see Rashi Ki Teitzei 24:19). The giver may have not even wanted to give away anything, but it doesn't matter, since apparently the kiyum mitzvah of tzedaka is measured based on the to'eles, on the end result of the poor's needs being met. The act of giving is just a means to an end; therefore, whether done intentionally or unintentionally, it's all the same.
What about matanos l'evyonim? Is it the giving which is critical, or is the end result of someone receiving a gift? Nafka minah: can you mail a check beforehand that will arrive in the poor person's mailbox on Purim? Do you have to do the act of giving on Purim day, or is all that matters the fact that the poor receive the gift?
The Ritva (Meg 7) writes that on Purim one doesn't have to be careful who one gives to -- whoever asks for charity, gets -- because the funds distributed on Purim are not for the sake of charity, but rather are for the sake of bringing simcha. In other words, even if the recipient turns out not in truth not to be poor, that's not your concern, because even though the to'eles of the mitzvah of tzedaka was not met, the goal of giving money on Purim is not tzedaka but simcha. R' Noson Gestetner proves from here that unlike tzedakah, the mitzvah of matanos l'evyonim is not measured by the result, but rather is all about the act of giving.
I don't understand his proof from this Ritva. Maybe matanos l'evyonim is in fact about the result, but the result we look for is not whether the needs of a poor person have been met (like the mitzvah of tzedaka) but rather the result we are looking for is whether we have made someone happy.
6. The gemara (18a) says that no one really knows what "achashderanim bnei ha'ramachim" (Esther 8:10) are. Rashash on the spot says that there has to be some peshuto shel mikra here and so he suggests that "achashderanim" means the people of a place by that name, which he identifies a "Astarchan" in Russia. Any idea what place he is referring to? (I am reminded of the riders of Rohan when I read these words, and if you don't know what I am talking about, good for you.)
7. "Chayav inish l'besumei..." The gemara tells us that when the Torah was given there was a beautiful fragrant odor of spices, besamim, that filled the world. On Purim, we reaffirm our kabbalas haTorah and once again, writes the Sefas Emes, the fragrance of Torah fills the air.
"Akatei avdei Achashveirosh anan," we are sill under the rule of Achashveirosh, the gemara says, and therefore there is no hallel on Purim. Even after all was said and done, after the defeat of Haman, Jews were still in galus. But, says the Chasam Sofer, this gufa is why Purim is so filled with simcha. The Purim miracle proved that even in the darkness of galus, Hashem was there watching out for us. Chazal writes that wine was created for the sake of nichun aveilim, as it allows one to put aside one's troubles. Chasam Sofer in his derashos says that this is why we drink on Purim. Put aside the galus, forget the tzarah, put aside the "akatei avdei Achashveirosh anan," and remember that despite all that, Hashem is still there to help.
Thursday, March 02, 2017
the mishkan embassy
An amazing vort from R' Shmuel Birenbaum: among the items collected for the Mishkan were precious stones to be used in the choshen. The Torah calls these stones "avnei milu'im" (25:7) because, as Rashi explains, they were used to fill the holes that they were set in. Why would the Torah focus on the fact that these stones served as filler instead of focusing on their inherent precious value and beauty? We see from here, answered R' S Birenbaum, that true value comes from being able to make something, or someone, whole.
The idea I have below is admittedly half-baked and probably needs some work.
The gemara (Kesubos 62) writes that when Rebbi's son was getting engaged, he made a deal with the in-laws that he would learn for 12 years before the wedding. The kallah then passed in front of the chassan, and after he saw her, he said, "How about we make it 6 years?" The kallah came by again, and he said, "How about we first get married and then I go learn?' He was a little embarrassed by the change of heart, but the shverr said to him not to be concerned, as Hashem did the same thing. When we crossed Yam Suf, the plan was "tivi'eimo v'sitaeimo b'har nachalascha," that we will come to Eretz Yisrael, and only then "mikdash Hashem konenu yadecha," we would get a Mikdash. However, as we read in our parsha, Hashem decided to speed things up and give us a Mishkan while we were in the midbar.
Hashem doesn't change his mind like an anxious chassan. What was the hava amina here and what's the maskana?
The Yismach Moshe quotes a Midrash that writes that when Klal Yisrael said na'aseh v'nishma, Hashem responded by giving them the command of "v'yikchu li terumah." What's the connection? According to Ramban, the revelation of Torah that took place at Sinai continued in the Mishkan, and we find many parallels between the two. Just as people had to keep their distance from Sinai, so too, no one could enter the Mishkan if not for the sake of avodah. Moshe was called to ascend Sinai; Moshe heard Hashem calling to him from the Mishkan. The Midrash opens our parsha with a warning of "ki lekach tov nasati lachem torasi al ta'azovu" -- the purpose of the Mishkan was to be a Torah center. Therefore, Hashem originally presented the plan to Klal Yisrael for the Mishkan to be built only after they had time to spend immersed in learning Torah, growing in their love for Torah. By the time they reached Eretz Yisrael they would be ready. Klal Yisrael, however, rose to the occasion, and by saying "na'aseh v'nishma" they demonstrated that they loved Torah already -- there was no need to wait.
I would suggest a slightly different twist. The gemara in Brachos writes that R' Yochanan wondered how there could possibly be old people in Bavel when the Torah promises that the bracha of "l'ma'an yirbu y'meichem," of long life, would be given "al ha'adamah asher nishba Hashem l'avoseichem," only in Eretz Yisrael. The gemara answers that those people blessed with long life earned that reward because they came to shul on time for davening. How does that answer the question -- bottom line, they are not living in Eretz Yisrael? The meforshim quote another gemara that teaches that the shuls and batei midrash of chutz la'aretz will, in the time of geulah, be transported to Eretz Yisrael. In other words, the shuls and batei midrash of Bavel were, in potential, "al ha'adamah asher nishba Hashem l'avoseichem." Just like when you are in a foreign country, if you enter the embassy of your home country, you are on home soil, so too, when one enters a shul or beis midrash one is breathing "avira d'Eretz Yisrael."
Perhaps this is what the gemara in Kesubos means. Originally Hashem presented the plan for the Mikdash as something that could be built only in Eretz Yisrael, not simply, like the Yismach Moshe suggests, as a delay tactic to give people time to acquire a love ofTorah, but because "KI mi'Tzion teitzei Torah" -- it requires geographically being in Eretz Yisrael to truly absorb Torah. However, when Klal Yisrael declared "na'aseh v'nishma," the proved that like the old people of Bavel, a taste of the "avira d'Eretz Yisrael" could be felt in chutz la'aretz as well, and Torah could find a home in an "embassy" there.
The idea I have below is admittedly half-baked and probably needs some work.
The gemara (Kesubos 62) writes that when Rebbi's son was getting engaged, he made a deal with the in-laws that he would learn for 12 years before the wedding. The kallah then passed in front of the chassan, and after he saw her, he said, "How about we make it 6 years?" The kallah came by again, and he said, "How about we first get married and then I go learn?' He was a little embarrassed by the change of heart, but the shverr said to him not to be concerned, as Hashem did the same thing. When we crossed Yam Suf, the plan was "tivi'eimo v'sitaeimo b'har nachalascha," that we will come to Eretz Yisrael, and only then "mikdash Hashem konenu yadecha," we would get a Mikdash. However, as we read in our parsha, Hashem decided to speed things up and give us a Mishkan while we were in the midbar.
Hashem doesn't change his mind like an anxious chassan. What was the hava amina here and what's the maskana?
The Yismach Moshe quotes a Midrash that writes that when Klal Yisrael said na'aseh v'nishma, Hashem responded by giving them the command of "v'yikchu li terumah." What's the connection? According to Ramban, the revelation of Torah that took place at Sinai continued in the Mishkan, and we find many parallels between the two. Just as people had to keep their distance from Sinai, so too, no one could enter the Mishkan if not for the sake of avodah. Moshe was called to ascend Sinai; Moshe heard Hashem calling to him from the Mishkan. The Midrash opens our parsha with a warning of "ki lekach tov nasati lachem torasi al ta'azovu" -- the purpose of the Mishkan was to be a Torah center. Therefore, Hashem originally presented the plan to Klal Yisrael for the Mishkan to be built only after they had time to spend immersed in learning Torah, growing in their love for Torah. By the time they reached Eretz Yisrael they would be ready. Klal Yisrael, however, rose to the occasion, and by saying "na'aseh v'nishma" they demonstrated that they loved Torah already -- there was no need to wait.
I would suggest a slightly different twist. The gemara in Brachos writes that R' Yochanan wondered how there could possibly be old people in Bavel when the Torah promises that the bracha of "l'ma'an yirbu y'meichem," of long life, would be given "al ha'adamah asher nishba Hashem l'avoseichem," only in Eretz Yisrael. The gemara answers that those people blessed with long life earned that reward because they came to shul on time for davening. How does that answer the question -- bottom line, they are not living in Eretz Yisrael? The meforshim quote another gemara that teaches that the shuls and batei midrash of chutz la'aretz will, in the time of geulah, be transported to Eretz Yisrael. In other words, the shuls and batei midrash of Bavel were, in potential, "al ha'adamah asher nishba Hashem l'avoseichem." Just like when you are in a foreign country, if you enter the embassy of your home country, you are on home soil, so too, when one enters a shul or beis midrash one is breathing "avira d'Eretz Yisrael."
Perhaps this is what the gemara in Kesubos means. Originally Hashem presented the plan for the Mikdash as something that could be built only in Eretz Yisrael, not simply, like the Yismach Moshe suggests, as a delay tactic to give people time to acquire a love ofTorah, but because "KI mi'Tzion teitzei Torah" -- it requires geographically being in Eretz Yisrael to truly absorb Torah. However, when Klal Yisrael declared "na'aseh v'nishma," the proved that like the old people of Bavel, a taste of the "avira d'Eretz Yisrael" could be felt in chutz la'aretz as well, and Torah could find a home in an "embassy" there.
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