I haven't had time to write much lately, but wanted to say gmar chasima tovah to all and thank everyone who takes the time to read, comment, email. Our biggest tefilah on Yom Kippur should be that Hashem should give all of us strength to continue learning Torah and growing in avodah.
"Va'yar Moshe es ha'am ki par'ua hu..." (Shmos 25:32) Rambam explains that as a result of cheit ha'eigel the people were torn apart -- some thought making an eigel was a good idea; others thought just the opposite; everyone was going in a different direction.
The tikun of cheit ha'eigel -- the achievement of forgiveness -- occurred on Yom Kippur. On that day the shattering of Am Yisrael into splinter groups was repaired. We became one people again and regained that lost unity and common direction.
"Shuva Yisrael ad Hashem Elokecha" -- lashon yachid, in the singular, not Elokeichem, the plural. The path to teshuvah starts with our becoming one united people.
(Another possible pshat is that teshuvah is not accomplished by thinking about what the Klal can/should do -- it starts with each individual asking what he/she can do about his/her own behavior. As the Brisker Rav points out, when Yonah was sitting on a boat filled with people who were actual avodah zarah and a storm arose, he stood up and said, "Throw me into the sea -- it's my fault." He didn't point the finger at anyone but himself.)
Sefas Emes explains that this is why there is a special mitzvah of ritzuy on erev Yom Kippur. Ritzuy is not appeasement or saying, "I'm sorry." Ritzuy, says Sefas Emes, is from the word ratzon. We have to want to be with all our fellow Jews, we have to want good things for them. (I'm only half joking if I say that this idea is probably a more difficult mitzvah than all 5 inuyim combined.)
Wishing all a year of shalom and achdus and kaparah and geulah.
Thursday, September 28, 2017
Thursday, September 14, 2017
the parsha of teshuvah
"V'shavta ad Hashem Elokecha... b'chol levavcha u'bchol nafshecha." (30:2) A few pesukim later we have, "V'atah tashuv... v'asisa es kol mitzvosav." (30:8) Chasam Sofer explains that the first pasuk is addressing us in galus. We don't have a beis hamikdash; many of us are not even living in Eretz Yisrael. Return to authentic Jewish life, meaning living as Jewish nation in our own Jewish homeland where Torah and mitzvos are our national culture, is something we dream of, "b'chol levavcha u'bchol nafshecha," in our hearts,but is something far from our reality. R' Tzadoh haKohen interprets "lo b'shamayim hi," assuming that the pasuk is speaking about teshuva (as Ramban learns, not like Rashi), as meaning that one should not think that the fact that Beis haMikdash is up in heaven now and inaccessible is an obstacle to teshuvah; "lo mei'eiver l'yam hi," the fact that Eretz Yisrael is across the ocean is not an obstacle either. We can dream, we can hope, we can have the desire to get there. Continues the parsha, one day, "v'hevi'acha Hashem Elokecha el ha'aretz..." (30:5) we will return to the land. When that day comes, "V'atah tashuv... v'asisa," (30:8) we will have the opportunity to do, to take action and live as we are supposed to, not just to dream about it. But it all starts with the "hishtokekus," the desire to get there. That much we can all do now.
Ramban asks why it is that when describing the mitzvah of teshuva the Torah uses "lashon beinoni" -- a description, not a command, e.g. "V'hasheivosa... V'shavta..." but it does not say "tashuv." Minchas Chinuch raises the possibility that according to the Rambam there is a mitzvah of viduy, but no actual mitzvah of teshuvah. When you want to do teshuvah, you have to do viduy, but there is no command to do teshuvah. According to this approach, Ramban's question seems to be moot. Ramban, however, assumes there is a mitzvah of teshuvah and explains that the Torah here is giving us more than a command -- it is a promise. We all have dreams, some of which might come true, many of which will not. The hope and dream of the Jewish people returning to Eretz Yisrael and doing teshuvah is something that is built into our destiny. The Torah is describing what must come to fruition, not just giving a command that we have a choice whether or not to fulfill.
I would like to flip this model of the Chasam Sofer, of moving from "hishtokekus," from desire, from the heart and soul, to the world of action, on its head. Shem m'Shmuel is bothered by the order of words in the pasuk, "...b'ficha u'b'levavcha l'asoso" Ramban writes that the Torah here is describing the mitzvah of teshuvah. Shouldn't the order be reversed? Doesn't a person first come to teshuvah with his heart, and only afterwards, articulate through viduy what he/she did wrong, and express and formulate and new, positive direction? The heart precedes the mouth, not the other way around?
Of course you should see the Shem m'Shmuel for a great answer, but I would like to suggest that the pasuk makes perfect sense and is telling us how to do teshuvah. There are lots of people who know that it is the teshuvah season and they therefore run to this shiur or that lecture seeking to be inspired. They wait to do teshuvah -- they are waiting to hear just the right lecture that will lift them up, they waiting to hear just the right shiur from the right Rabbi that will capture their heart. In the meantime, while they are waiting for that elusive moment of inspiration, the clock is ticking toward Rosh haShana. The Torah here is telling us, "Don't wait!" Say the words of viduy, say an extra perek of tehilim, learn an extra blatt of gemara. You may not feel inspired -- you may feel like you are just going through the motions -- but those words will sink in. Start with the words (and deeds) and the heart will follow. Inspiration will stem from action, not the other way around.
We baruch Hashem get a second helping of parshas hashavu'a this week with Vayeilech. The Midrash Tanchuma writes that "Vayeilech Moshe" is a tochacha. Here Moshe steps out of his holy space and comes to each sheivet, maybe each member of Klal Yisrael, to speak to them -- where is the rebuke? What could be more positive than that?
Shem m'Shmuel writes that the Torah is not telling us that Moshe took a physical walk to get from place to place -- who cares about that? It is telling us that Moshe had to make a spiritual journey. He had to leave where he was spiritually holding in and travel down a notch to come speak to us.
I don't remember what the person did to earn it, but the Tchebiner Rav promised a certain person that he would make sure to get him into Gan Eden. Later in life the Tchebiner asked that person for one favor: "Don't make it so hard for me."
Why should Moshe Rabeinu need to take a walk down the spiritual ladder in order to speak to us? Why do we have to make it so hard for him? Can't we make it a little easier and come a little closer to his level? That's the tochacha.
Thursday, September 07, 2017
for the sake of bikurim
"B-reishis" = the world was created for the sake of reishis, the "reishis pri ha'adamah," the first fruits of bikurim which the farmer brings to the Mikdash, as described in the opening to our parsha.
I don't mean to minimize the importance of bikurim, but let's be real -- if you asked 100 people to pick one mitzvah for which the world was created, most would answer things like learning Torah, saying shema, emunah. Not bikurim. What do Chazal see as so crucial in the mitzvah if bikurim?
When the farmer brings bikurim to the Mikdash in essence what he is saying is, "It's not me." He may have plowed the field, he may have planted the seeds, he may have weeded, watered, tended the crops, and finally harvested, but the crops are not the product of his work alone. By bringing bikurim the farmer is saying that it's not "kochi v'otzem yadi," but rather his success comes from Hashem.
"V'lakach ha'kohen ha'teneh mi'yadecha" -- bikurim takes the fruit out of being "mi'yadecha," the work of your hands (alone), and acknowledges that it is a gift from Hashem.
"Lo achalti b'oni mi'menu" -- R' Shimon Sofer explains that the word "oni" can be interpreted as strength. Ya'akov describes Reuvain as "kochi v'reishis oni," my first strength. Again, the farmer is declaring that the fruit does not come from the strength of his labor, but rather is a gift from G-d.
What Chazal are telling us is that G-d created this thing we call "earth" with laws of nature that serve to obscure his presence and where humans can delude themselves into thinking they are in total control in order so that we might have the opportunity to make the biggest kiddush Hashem possible -- to pierce that veil and declare that Hashem is behind it all. Even if there was no physical world there could be angels who learn Torah, who say shema, who have emunah. You don't need a world for that. All that can take place in Heaven. What you need a world for is so that we can declare, through our bikurim, that G-d is present even where he doesn't seem to be.
The Torah uses the term "higadti" when describing the farmer's speech to the kohen. Normally the term hagadah, as opposed to amirah or dibur, connotes harsh words. The farmer is relating how G-d helped bring us to Eretz Yisrael and his asking for Hashem's bracha -- what's so harsh about what he is saying?
Here we have the kohen, says the Ishbitzer, who lives a holy life, who can cloister himself in the Mikdash, who is involved in Torah (Rambam end of Hil Shemitah) when he is not doing avodah. Along comes a simple farmer with his basket of fruit and barges into that domain of kedusha. You can picture him with his overalls, maybe with the mud from the field still on his workboots, marching up to the kohen and handing over that basket. The farmer then declares to the kohen, "Don't think you have an exclusive on G-d. I may be out on the field working, I may be a simple farmer, but my basket of fruit is as valuable as what you are doing." That's hagadah = kashe k'gidim, harsh words. "Higadti l'Hashem Elokecha..." -- your G-d, reb kohen, is my G-d too. My avodah is at least as valuable as yours. Real holiness is not just when you live a life in the Mikdash, in the beis medrash, the life of the kohen. Real holiness is when you live in the darkness of olam=he'elem, where G-d's presence is hidden, out in the field, out dealing with the struggles of the world, and you come with bikurim and declare that that "real" world is just a fake and what is real is G-d.
Maybe this is what the Midrash Tanchuma means when it teaches that Moshe was troubled as to how we would get by without bikurim when we no longer had a Mikdash. Moshe was not worried about the loss of korbanos or avodah -- holiness. Moshe was worried more about the loss of a place where one could elevate the mundane and make even it holy. That's what bikurim is all about.
Hashem's answer to Moshe was that we will have 3 tefilos a day that will make up for the loss. Tefilah reminds us (especially when you stop right in the middle of a work day for minchah!) that it's not the hard work we do that makes things happen, but it's G-d who is behind it all.
I don't mean to minimize the importance of bikurim, but let's be real -- if you asked 100 people to pick one mitzvah for which the world was created, most would answer things like learning Torah, saying shema, emunah. Not bikurim. What do Chazal see as so crucial in the mitzvah if bikurim?
When the farmer brings bikurim to the Mikdash in essence what he is saying is, "It's not me." He may have plowed the field, he may have planted the seeds, he may have weeded, watered, tended the crops, and finally harvested, but the crops are not the product of his work alone. By bringing bikurim the farmer is saying that it's not "kochi v'otzem yadi," but rather his success comes from Hashem.
"V'lakach ha'kohen ha'teneh mi'yadecha" -- bikurim takes the fruit out of being "mi'yadecha," the work of your hands (alone), and acknowledges that it is a gift from Hashem.
"Lo achalti b'oni mi'menu" -- R' Shimon Sofer explains that the word "oni" can be interpreted as strength. Ya'akov describes Reuvain as "kochi v'reishis oni," my first strength. Again, the farmer is declaring that the fruit does not come from the strength of his labor, but rather is a gift from G-d.
What Chazal are telling us is that G-d created this thing we call "earth" with laws of nature that serve to obscure his presence and where humans can delude themselves into thinking they are in total control in order so that we might have the opportunity to make the biggest kiddush Hashem possible -- to pierce that veil and declare that Hashem is behind it all. Even if there was no physical world there could be angels who learn Torah, who say shema, who have emunah. You don't need a world for that. All that can take place in Heaven. What you need a world for is so that we can declare, through our bikurim, that G-d is present even where he doesn't seem to be.
The Torah uses the term "higadti" when describing the farmer's speech to the kohen. Normally the term hagadah, as opposed to amirah or dibur, connotes harsh words. The farmer is relating how G-d helped bring us to Eretz Yisrael and his asking for Hashem's bracha -- what's so harsh about what he is saying?
Here we have the kohen, says the Ishbitzer, who lives a holy life, who can cloister himself in the Mikdash, who is involved in Torah (Rambam end of Hil Shemitah) when he is not doing avodah. Along comes a simple farmer with his basket of fruit and barges into that domain of kedusha. You can picture him with his overalls, maybe with the mud from the field still on his workboots, marching up to the kohen and handing over that basket. The farmer then declares to the kohen, "Don't think you have an exclusive on G-d. I may be out on the field working, I may be a simple farmer, but my basket of fruit is as valuable as what you are doing." That's hagadah = kashe k'gidim, harsh words. "Higadti l'Hashem Elokecha..." -- your G-d, reb kohen, is my G-d too. My avodah is at least as valuable as yours. Real holiness is not just when you live a life in the Mikdash, in the beis medrash, the life of the kohen. Real holiness is when you live in the darkness of olam=he'elem, where G-d's presence is hidden, out in the field, out dealing with the struggles of the world, and you come with bikurim and declare that that "real" world is just a fake and what is real is G-d.
Maybe this is what the Midrash Tanchuma means when it teaches that Moshe was troubled as to how we would get by without bikurim when we no longer had a Mikdash. Moshe was not worried about the loss of korbanos or avodah -- holiness. Moshe was worried more about the loss of a place where one could elevate the mundane and make even it holy. That's what bikurim is all about.
Hashem's answer to Moshe was that we will have 3 tefilos a day that will make up for the loss. Tefilah reminds us (especially when you stop right in the middle of a work day for minchah!) that it's not the hard work we do that makes things happen, but it's G-d who is behind it all.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Al dvar asher lo tza'akah -- sometimes you have to scream
The one factor, at least based on a superficial reading of the parsha, that distinguishes a case of ones from a case of znus is whether the woman screamed out or not. "Al dvar asher lo tza'akah ba'ir" (22:24) -- the assumption is that if whatever happened took place in the city, the woman must be guilty as well or someone would have heard her screaming.
Ramban is bothered: why are we so hung up on the screaming? Maybe this woman lives in NY and knows no one is going to respond to her screams anyway, like the Kitty Genovese story, so she doesn't scream -- she obviously is not still guilty. The key question should be whether she was coerced or not, whether she engaged in an illicit act willfully, not whether she specifically screamed.
Ramban answers that you have to say that screaming is lav davka and the Torah is just describing a typical case.
Sefas Emes, however, says screaming makes all the difference in the world. Screaming is not just a siman, a way to raise an alarm, but screaming is the means to effect yeshu'a. "Al dvar asher lo tza'akah ba'ir" -- because had she screamed, she surely would have been heard and saved. Not seizing that opportunity is itself a crime.
(Without the Sefas Emes I think you have a bit of a pshat difficulty. The Torah tells us exactly what the man did wrong -- "al asher inah..." When it comes to the woman, if you read the pasuk like Ramban, it does not tell us anything. It just gives us a siman, "asher lo tza'akah," and leaves us to infer that she therefore consented and committed an immoral act. According to Sefas Emes, the failure to scream, the failure to avail oneself of the opportunity of rescue, is itself the crime. It's not just an inference but the Torah is telling us exactly what was done wrong by the man and by the woman.)
The Sefas Emes is not just a comment on this specific parsha, but is a comment on life. There is a lot of stuff that does not befit us that we come in contact with due to our having to work in and live in a secular society. What can you do -- ones! We can't so easily change when and where we live. The Sefas Emes is telling us that if it's really ones, then you should be screaming. If you passively sit back and do nothing, or worse, accommodate yourself to the situation or enjoy he situation, then all bets are off. If you want to be saved, you have to scream. And if you do scream, you will be saved.
(I had a very hard time trying to formulate this Sefas Emes. For some reason earlier in the week I became fixated on writing this point up and then I couldn't let it go. It became a mental block to my writing anything else. After mulling it over for 2 days I don't like the results. See S.E. in the Likutim, in 5634, and 5640 and see what you make of it.)
Ramban is bothered: why are we so hung up on the screaming? Maybe this woman lives in NY and knows no one is going to respond to her screams anyway, like the Kitty Genovese story, so she doesn't scream -- she obviously is not still guilty. The key question should be whether she was coerced or not, whether she engaged in an illicit act willfully, not whether she specifically screamed.
Ramban answers that you have to say that screaming is lav davka and the Torah is just describing a typical case.
Sefas Emes, however, says screaming makes all the difference in the world. Screaming is not just a siman, a way to raise an alarm, but screaming is the means to effect yeshu'a. "Al dvar asher lo tza'akah ba'ir" -- because had she screamed, she surely would have been heard and saved. Not seizing that opportunity is itself a crime.
(Without the Sefas Emes I think you have a bit of a pshat difficulty. The Torah tells us exactly what the man did wrong -- "al asher inah..." When it comes to the woman, if you read the pasuk like Ramban, it does not tell us anything. It just gives us a siman, "asher lo tza'akah," and leaves us to infer that she therefore consented and committed an immoral act. According to Sefas Emes, the failure to scream, the failure to avail oneself of the opportunity of rescue, is itself the crime. It's not just an inference but the Torah is telling us exactly what was done wrong by the man and by the woman.)
The Sefas Emes is not just a comment on this specific parsha, but is a comment on life. There is a lot of stuff that does not befit us that we come in contact with due to our having to work in and live in a secular society. What can you do -- ones! We can't so easily change when and where we live. The Sefas Emes is telling us that if it's really ones, then you should be screaming. If you passively sit back and do nothing, or worse, accommodate yourself to the situation or enjoy he situation, then all bets are off. If you want to be saved, you have to scream. And if you do scream, you will be saved.
(I had a very hard time trying to formulate this Sefas Emes. For some reason earlier in the week I became fixated on writing this point up and then I couldn't let it go. It became a mental block to my writing anything else. After mulling it over for 2 days I don't like the results. See S.E. in the Likutim, in 5634, and 5640 and see what you make of it.)
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Even ha'Azel: special din of bitul Torah that applies only to a melech
(If you don't want any derush skip 1-4 but don't skip #5, the Even ha'Azel's beautiful chiddush based on a diyuk in Rambam.)
1. In Gertrude Himmelfarb's The Demoralization of Society (p 39) she quotes Hipployte Taine as saying, "The aim of every society must be a state of affiars in which every man is his own constable, until at least none other is required." In other words, "Shoftim v'shotrim titen LECHA," you have to make yourself into the shofet and shoteir. You have to develop a moral compass and police yourself.
2. Ksav Sofer notes that the parsha that speaks of the appointment of a king the Torah uses the singular voice: "Asima alay melech.... Som tasim alecha melech..." There is a din (O.C. 53:19) that when a congregation appoints a new chazzan, any single individual may object to the appointment (provided they can offer a legitimate reason for doing so). There has to be no dissension with respect to the final choice. So too, suggests the Ksav Sofer, when it comes to the appointment of a king, the people have to speak with unanimity, with one voice. There can be no objections to the selection.
I wonder if this reflects the reality. David haMelech was chased across the countryside by Shaul -- it doesn't seem that even he had the unanimous consent of the people, at least at the time of his appointment.
3. Speaking of Shaul haMelech (that last paragraph was an excuse to make a transition : )... The parsha tells us that we cannot use sorcery or fortune telling like the other nations do. Hashem instead gives us nevi'im to reveal to us what we need to know of the future. The Netziv says a chiddush: if there is no navi to consult, if there is no other recourse, and we absolutely need information, then those other means are at our disposal as well. If it's pikuach nefesh and the only way out is through sorcery, then you have to use it. Why then, asks the Netziv, was Shaul punished for consulting the witch of Endor? He was not getting an answer from the u'rim v'tumim or any other way and had no other choice?
Netziv answers that Shaul was punished because he created the situation in which he found himself. He killed the kohanim of Nov, he caused G-d not to be responsive to him, and so he was responsible for the outcome. You can't put yourself in hot water and then cry ones and expect to be excused. (There is a similar idea the Brisker Rav has on parshas Braishis -- see this post from 11 years ago.)
4. Not every king has access to a navi, and we for sure don't have access to a navi, but Chasam Sofer says the parsha has a solution for us without our having to go to fortune tellers. "V'haya k'shivta al kisei mamlachto," when the king is sitting on his throne, the Torah tells us that he has to write a sefer Torah. Chasam Sofer explains that when Klal Yisrael is on the level we are supposed to be on, our king is not sitting just on his throne -- he is sitting on Hashem's throne, as Hashem is the true king. The melech is just his top representative down here. So the parsha is not speaking about that ideal time. The parsha is speaking about the b'dieved state, when the king is just on HIS throne. There is no navi, there is no ruach hakodesh when we are in that state. So where are we supposed to get answers from? This Torah says when "k'shivto al kisei MAMLACHTO," (as opposed to malchus Hashem,) then write a sefer Torah, "V'kara bo kol y'mei chayav," and read about life in it. You want answers -- learn Torah.
A solution that applies to us as much as a king.
5. The Rambam (Melachim 3:5) writes that a king is not permitted to drink like a drunkard, but rather he is supposed to learn Torah and deal with the needs of Klal Yisrael day and night. The Rambam quotes as proof this pasuk of "v'kara bo kol y'mei chayav."
Don't all of us have to (ideally) learn Torah day and night, to the extent possible? The Rambam in hil talmud Torah ch 1 paskens this way with respect to any Jew. So why do we need a special din by a melech that he has to learn day and night?
R' Isser Zalman Meltzer in the Even ha'Azel answers that there is a difference. If you or I want to relax, we are free to sit down and have a beer, read a book, take a jog. If that leads to some bitul Torah, we are excused. Enjoying life is not assur. Bitul Torah means deliberately not learning when one has nothing else to do and no other interest at the moment. The melech, however, is different. The melech is not allowed to sit back and relax with a beer or go for a jog. He has an affirmative obligation to be engrossed in Torah and the needs of Klal Yisrael every moment, irrespective of his personal interests.
When I saw this Even ha'Azel I understood in a completely different light the statement of "man malchai? -- Rabbanan." The true kings are the Rabbis, talmidei chachamim, because only they, like kings, are engaged every moment in the dvar Hashem to the exclusion of their own interests and pleasures.
1. In Gertrude Himmelfarb's The Demoralization of Society (p 39) she quotes Hipployte Taine as saying, "The aim of every society must be a state of affiars in which every man is his own constable, until at least none other is required." In other words, "Shoftim v'shotrim titen LECHA," you have to make yourself into the shofet and shoteir. You have to develop a moral compass and police yourself.
2. Ksav Sofer notes that the parsha that speaks of the appointment of a king the Torah uses the singular voice: "Asima alay melech.... Som tasim alecha melech..." There is a din (O.C. 53:19) that when a congregation appoints a new chazzan, any single individual may object to the appointment (provided they can offer a legitimate reason for doing so). There has to be no dissension with respect to the final choice. So too, suggests the Ksav Sofer, when it comes to the appointment of a king, the people have to speak with unanimity, with one voice. There can be no objections to the selection.
I wonder if this reflects the reality. David haMelech was chased across the countryside by Shaul -- it doesn't seem that even he had the unanimous consent of the people, at least at the time of his appointment.
3. Speaking of Shaul haMelech (that last paragraph was an excuse to make a transition : )... The parsha tells us that we cannot use sorcery or fortune telling like the other nations do. Hashem instead gives us nevi'im to reveal to us what we need to know of the future. The Netziv says a chiddush: if there is no navi to consult, if there is no other recourse, and we absolutely need information, then those other means are at our disposal as well. If it's pikuach nefesh and the only way out is through sorcery, then you have to use it. Why then, asks the Netziv, was Shaul punished for consulting the witch of Endor? He was not getting an answer from the u'rim v'tumim or any other way and had no other choice?
Netziv answers that Shaul was punished because he created the situation in which he found himself. He killed the kohanim of Nov, he caused G-d not to be responsive to him, and so he was responsible for the outcome. You can't put yourself in hot water and then cry ones and expect to be excused. (There is a similar idea the Brisker Rav has on parshas Braishis -- see this post from 11 years ago.)
4. Not every king has access to a navi, and we for sure don't have access to a navi, but Chasam Sofer says the parsha has a solution for us without our having to go to fortune tellers. "V'haya k'shivta al kisei mamlachto," when the king is sitting on his throne, the Torah tells us that he has to write a sefer Torah. Chasam Sofer explains that when Klal Yisrael is on the level we are supposed to be on, our king is not sitting just on his throne -- he is sitting on Hashem's throne, as Hashem is the true king. The melech is just his top representative down here. So the parsha is not speaking about that ideal time. The parsha is speaking about the b'dieved state, when the king is just on HIS throne. There is no navi, there is no ruach hakodesh when we are in that state. So where are we supposed to get answers from? This Torah says when "k'shivto al kisei MAMLACHTO," (as opposed to malchus Hashem,) then write a sefer Torah, "V'kara bo kol y'mei chayav," and read about life in it. You want answers -- learn Torah.
A solution that applies to us as much as a king.
5. The Rambam (Melachim 3:5) writes that a king is not permitted to drink like a drunkard, but rather he is supposed to learn Torah and deal with the needs of Klal Yisrael day and night. The Rambam quotes as proof this pasuk of "v'kara bo kol y'mei chayav."
Don't all of us have to (ideally) learn Torah day and night, to the extent possible? The Rambam in hil talmud Torah ch 1 paskens this way with respect to any Jew. So why do we need a special din by a melech that he has to learn day and night?
R' Isser Zalman Meltzer in the Even ha'Azel answers that there is a difference. If you or I want to relax, we are free to sit down and have a beer, read a book, take a jog. If that leads to some bitul Torah, we are excused. Enjoying life is not assur. Bitul Torah means deliberately not learning when one has nothing else to do and no other interest at the moment. The melech, however, is different. The melech is not allowed to sit back and relax with a beer or go for a jog. He has an affirmative obligation to be engrossed in Torah and the needs of Klal Yisrael every moment, irrespective of his personal interests.
When I saw this Even ha'Azel I understood in a completely different light the statement of "man malchai? -- Rabbanan." The true kings are the Rabbis, talmidei chachamim, because only they, like kings, are engaged every moment in the dvar Hashem to the exclusion of their own interests and pleasures.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
don't give tzedaka because it's a mitzvah
Last week's post generated some comments in response to my having written that someone who observes mishpatim simply because it's the right think to do still can call on zechus avos because he/she is doing the right thing. Since I opened that can of worms, let me continue on the same theme. R' Simcha Zisel of Kelm makes a striking claim with respect to the mitzvah of tzedaka mentioned in this week's parsha. It's davka not the person who gives to charity because it's a mitzvah who fulfills tzedaka to its fullest. Rather, it's the person who empathizes with the poor and gives because he is moved by their needs who fulfills tzedaka to its fullest.
R' Simcha Zisel sees tzedaka as an extension of v'ahavta l'rei'acha kamocha. Most of us don't eat because it's a mitzvah -- we eat because we feel hungry. Says R' Simcha Zisel, treat your fellow Jew in need the same way. Don't feed your friend because it's a mitzvah. Feed your friend because you empathize with his pain to such a degree that if he is hungry, you are hungry, and when you are hungry, you eat.
R' Ya'akov Naiman in his Darkei Musar uses this yesod of R' Simcha Zisel to answer a question posed by the Maharasha. The gemara in Kesubos (67) relates that Nakdimon ben Gurion was punished for not fulfilling the mitzvah of tzedaka properly. Asks the gemara: Nakdimon ben Gurion was rich and give a fortune to tzedaka; how is it possible to say he did not fulfill the mitzvah properly? The gemara gives two answers: 1) as much as he gave, he could have done more; 2) he gave for the kavod of giving. Maharasha on the spot questions this second answer. We know that someone who gives charity "al menas she'yichyeh b'ni," with ulterior motives, because he wants the zechus of tzedaka to bring a refuah to his child, is called a tzadik gamur. So who cares of Nakdimon ben Gurion did it for the kavod!? He should still go down on the books as a tzadik gamur!
Yes, says R' Naiman, someone who gives with ulterior motives is a tzadik and fulfills a mitzvah -- but that mitzvah is not the mitzvah of tzedaka. When you giving is motivated by any reason other than empathy, other than truly identifying with the needs of another, that's not true tzedaka.
The point of the mitzvah of tzedaka is not the ma'aseh nesina -- the act of giving -- but rather it's the chalos in the gavra of becoming a person who is sensitive to the needs of others.
Rashi quotes a derush that the Torah juxtaposes "aser te'aser" with "lo tevaseh g'di b'chaleiv imo" because G-d is telling us that if we don't give ma'aser he will be forced to be "mevashel gedi'im shel tevuah" = cause the grain to rot in its husk before it is fully ripe and ready to harvest. OK, it's talking about ma'aser, ma'ser sheni, and not tzedaka, but Chazal learn ma'aser kesafim from this pasuk, so derech derush you can give me some leeway and in turn I will give you a tremendous Ishbitzer (from Ne'os Desheh, the Mei HaShiloach's son). Someone who does not give properly is like that grain rotting in it's husk -- on the outside, everything looks OK, but when you peel back the shell, the husk, there is nothing there on the inside. A person who lacks empathy, who is not moved by others needs to want to help them, is just an empty shell of a person.
R' Simcha Zisel sees tzedaka as an extension of v'ahavta l'rei'acha kamocha. Most of us don't eat because it's a mitzvah -- we eat because we feel hungry. Says R' Simcha Zisel, treat your fellow Jew in need the same way. Don't feed your friend because it's a mitzvah. Feed your friend because you empathize with his pain to such a degree that if he is hungry, you are hungry, and when you are hungry, you eat.
R' Ya'akov Naiman in his Darkei Musar uses this yesod of R' Simcha Zisel to answer a question posed by the Maharasha. The gemara in Kesubos (67) relates that Nakdimon ben Gurion was punished for not fulfilling the mitzvah of tzedaka properly. Asks the gemara: Nakdimon ben Gurion was rich and give a fortune to tzedaka; how is it possible to say he did not fulfill the mitzvah properly? The gemara gives two answers: 1) as much as he gave, he could have done more; 2) he gave for the kavod of giving. Maharasha on the spot questions this second answer. We know that someone who gives charity "al menas she'yichyeh b'ni," with ulterior motives, because he wants the zechus of tzedaka to bring a refuah to his child, is called a tzadik gamur. So who cares of Nakdimon ben Gurion did it for the kavod!? He should still go down on the books as a tzadik gamur!
Yes, says R' Naiman, someone who gives with ulterior motives is a tzadik and fulfills a mitzvah -- but that mitzvah is not the mitzvah of tzedaka. When you giving is motivated by any reason other than empathy, other than truly identifying with the needs of another, that's not true tzedaka.
The point of the mitzvah of tzedaka is not the ma'aseh nesina -- the act of giving -- but rather it's the chalos in the gavra of becoming a person who is sensitive to the needs of others.
Rashi quotes a derush that the Torah juxtaposes "aser te'aser" with "lo tevaseh g'di b'chaleiv imo" because G-d is telling us that if we don't give ma'aser he will be forced to be "mevashel gedi'im shel tevuah" = cause the grain to rot in its husk before it is fully ripe and ready to harvest. OK, it's talking about ma'aser, ma'ser sheni, and not tzedaka, but Chazal learn ma'aser kesafim from this pasuk, so derech derush you can give me some leeway and in turn I will give you a tremendous Ishbitzer (from Ne'os Desheh, the Mei HaShiloach's son). Someone who does not give properly is like that grain rotting in it's husk -- on the outside, everything looks OK, but when you peel back the shell, the husk, there is nothing there on the inside. A person who lacks empathy, who is not moved by others needs to want to help them, is just an empty shell of a person.
Thursday, August 10, 2017
earning our own reward
V'haya eikev tishme'un es hamishpatim ha'eileh v'shamar Hashem Elokecha lecha es ha'bris v'es ha'chessed asher nishba l'avosecha.
Our parsha opens by telling us that if we observe the commandments, specifically mishpatim, then Hashem will fulfill his promise made to the avos and give us the brachos that follow.
If we are doing what we are supposed to, then shouldn't we deserve reward based on our own merits and actions, not because of the promise made to the avos? (The Sefas Emes explains that the word v'haya, which always connotes simcha, appears here because Hashem has tremendous simcha when a person earns his own reward and doesn't receive gifts based on someone else's merit.) Zechus avos is invoked when we have no other merits of our own to call on, not when we are doing everything right?
Maybe you can answer that question by way of another question. Last week's parsha ends with the pasuk, "V'shamarta es ha'mitzvah v'es ha'chukim v'es ha'mishpatim..." Meforshim are bothered by the fact that that pasuk lists off multiple categories of mitzvos -- mitzvah, chukim, mishpatim -- while the pasuk that opens our parsha refers only to the one category of mishpatim. Why the difference?
Perhaps the point of our parsha is that even if we are not exactly doing what we are supposed to -- we are only fulfilling the logical laws of mishpatim that make sense to us, but are not on target with all the mitzvos and chukim -- nonetheless, Hashem will reward us because in addition to our own actions, we have zechus avos as well.
Our parsha opens by telling us that if we observe the commandments, specifically mishpatim, then Hashem will fulfill his promise made to the avos and give us the brachos that follow.
If we are doing what we are supposed to, then shouldn't we deserve reward based on our own merits and actions, not because of the promise made to the avos? (The Sefas Emes explains that the word v'haya, which always connotes simcha, appears here because Hashem has tremendous simcha when a person earns his own reward and doesn't receive gifts based on someone else's merit.) Zechus avos is invoked when we have no other merits of our own to call on, not when we are doing everything right?
Maybe you can answer that question by way of another question. Last week's parsha ends with the pasuk, "V'shamarta es ha'mitzvah v'es ha'chukim v'es ha'mishpatim..." Meforshim are bothered by the fact that that pasuk lists off multiple categories of mitzvos -- mitzvah, chukim, mishpatim -- while the pasuk that opens our parsha refers only to the one category of mishpatim. Why the difference?
Perhaps the point of our parsha is that even if we are not exactly doing what we are supposed to -- we are only fulfilling the logical laws of mishpatim that make sense to us, but are not on target with all the mitzvos and chukim -- nonetheless, Hashem will reward us because in addition to our own actions, we have zechus avos as well.
es Hashem Elokecha tira - l'rabos talmidei chachamim = community building
The gemara tells us that Shimon ha'Amsuni was able to darshen every single "es" in the Torah, but when he got to the pasuk, "Es Hashem Elokecha tira," "pireish," he could not go further. R' Akiva, on the other hand, darshened even that "es." It explained it as coming "l'rabos talmidei chachamim," to include havin awe of talmidei chachamim (Pesachim 22)
When Shimon ha'Amsuni encountered the mitzvah of yirah, he thought the way to fulfill it was "pireish," through prishus=separating from the world, from the community, and digging inward to achieve self perfection.
R' Akiva, on the other hand, thought just the opposite. One can achieve yirah by "l'rabos talmidei chachamim," by building the community, increasing the number of people involved in Torah and learning Torah.
Why was it R' Akiva in particular who was able to arrive at this insight? R' Meir Shapira of daf yomi fame explained that R' Akiva early in life before he came to learning had an intense hatred for talmidei chachamim. The Rambam writes that the way to correct a midah is to go to the opposite extreme. Therefore, R' Akiva more than anyone else came to an intense love and appreciation for talmidei chachamim and their influence.
When Shimon ha'Amsuni encountered the mitzvah of yirah, he thought the way to fulfill it was "pireish," through prishus=separating from the world, from the community, and digging inward to achieve self perfection.
R' Akiva, on the other hand, thought just the opposite. One can achieve yirah by "l'rabos talmidei chachamim," by building the community, increasing the number of people involved in Torah and learning Torah.
Why was it R' Akiva in particular who was able to arrive at this insight? R' Meir Shapira of daf yomi fame explained that R' Akiva early in life before he came to learning had an intense hatred for talmidei chachamim. The Rambam writes that the way to correct a midah is to go to the opposite extreme. Therefore, R' Akiva more than anyone else came to an intense love and appreciation for talmidei chachamim and their influence.
Thursday, August 03, 2017
T"u b'Av -- a feminist holiday
The gemara at the end of Ta'anis tells us that the two biggest yamim tovim for Klal Yisrael were 15 Av and Yom Kippur. On those days the girls would go out into the fields and dance and the boys would come and find their shidduch (simple solution to the shidduch crisis). The girls who had money would say, "Marry us for our money," the girls who had yichus would say, "Marry for yichus!" and the girls who had nothing would say, "Marry l'shem shamayim and then afterwards give us gold jewelry."
We all know why Yom Kippur is a special day, and the gemara gives a hosts of reasons why 15 Av was a special day, among them that on that day the dor ha'midbar stopped dying for the sin of cheit ha'meraglim. But why were these days in particular the days set aside to make shidduchim? What does finding a girl to marry have to do with the nature of these days?
Secondly, what does the gemara mean when it tells us that the girls who said to get married added, "And buy us gold jewelry!" It seems incongruous with the call to act "l'shem shamayim." Were the girls who said that being disingenuous and just needed a way to snatch a boy when they had nothing else going for them? Do we really have to be that cynical? It's strange that the gemara even bothers add this line about gold when it has nothing to do with the shidduch itself. Maharasha writes that it's just a "milsa b'alma," but maybe there is more to it.
There were two major sins that Klal Yisrael committed en route to Eretz Yisrael: 1) the sin of the cheit ha'eigel = abandoning G-d; 2) the sin of the meraglim = abandoning Eretz Yisrael. There was one group of people, however, who did not involve themselves in either sin -- the women of Klal Yisrael. By the cheit ha'eigel the women did not willingly turn over their gold jewelry to their husbands to make the golden calf. When it came time to apportion Eretz Yisrael, it was the Bnos Tzelafchad who demonstrated their love of the land and demanded a portion.
Yom Kippur is the tikun of the cheit ha'eigel. On that day Hashem gave us the second luchos, a second chance after the first were broken by Moshe in response to the eigel.
T"u b'Av is the day the dying of the generation of the midbar stopped. It brought closure to the cheit ha'meraglim.
For the women who needed no tikun, these days are "feminist" holidays -- days when they could boast of their superiority. Not holidays of modern feminism, where women want to be men, but Torah feminism, when women can be proud of their own stellar achievements. On these days the women reach out to their male counterparts and call, "bachur, sa na einecha," lift up your eyes and look at the madreiga we reached! These are days of shidduchim because on these days the bachurim reach out to find partners to help bring up their level of ruchniyus.
The conclusion, "Adorn us in gold jewelry," is not just an aside, but is part of the whole message, explains the Sefas Emes in Likutim. The women could boast that they deserved to be adorned with the gold that they did not turn over to the eigel, the gold that we men so eagerly surrendered for avodah zarah.
When we lost Eretz Yisrael and the Mikdash and went into galus, we lost T"u b'Av. We lost the tikun for the cheit ha'meraglim. All that is left is Yom Kippur, the tikun for the cheit of avodah zarah.
Maybe a reinvigoration of T"u b'Av is something to look forward to as we get closer to geulah.
We all know why Yom Kippur is a special day, and the gemara gives a hosts of reasons why 15 Av was a special day, among them that on that day the dor ha'midbar stopped dying for the sin of cheit ha'meraglim. But why were these days in particular the days set aside to make shidduchim? What does finding a girl to marry have to do with the nature of these days?
Secondly, what does the gemara mean when it tells us that the girls who said to get married added, "And buy us gold jewelry!" It seems incongruous with the call to act "l'shem shamayim." Were the girls who said that being disingenuous and just needed a way to snatch a boy when they had nothing else going for them? Do we really have to be that cynical? It's strange that the gemara even bothers add this line about gold when it has nothing to do with the shidduch itself. Maharasha writes that it's just a "milsa b'alma," but maybe there is more to it.
There were two major sins that Klal Yisrael committed en route to Eretz Yisrael: 1) the sin of the cheit ha'eigel = abandoning G-d; 2) the sin of the meraglim = abandoning Eretz Yisrael. There was one group of people, however, who did not involve themselves in either sin -- the women of Klal Yisrael. By the cheit ha'eigel the women did not willingly turn over their gold jewelry to their husbands to make the golden calf. When it came time to apportion Eretz Yisrael, it was the Bnos Tzelafchad who demonstrated their love of the land and demanded a portion.
Yom Kippur is the tikun of the cheit ha'eigel. On that day Hashem gave us the second luchos, a second chance after the first were broken by Moshe in response to the eigel.
T"u b'Av is the day the dying of the generation of the midbar stopped. It brought closure to the cheit ha'meraglim.
For the women who needed no tikun, these days are "feminist" holidays -- days when they could boast of their superiority. Not holidays of modern feminism, where women want to be men, but Torah feminism, when women can be proud of their own stellar achievements. On these days the women reach out to their male counterparts and call, "bachur, sa na einecha," lift up your eyes and look at the madreiga we reached! These are days of shidduchim because on these days the bachurim reach out to find partners to help bring up their level of ruchniyus.
The conclusion, "Adorn us in gold jewelry," is not just an aside, but is part of the whole message, explains the Sefas Emes in Likutim. The women could boast that they deserved to be adorned with the gold that they did not turn over to the eigel, the gold that we men so eagerly surrendered for avodah zarah.
When we lost Eretz Yisrael and the Mikdash and went into galus, we lost T"u b'Av. We lost the tikun for the cheit ha'meraglim. All that is left is Yom Kippur, the tikun for the cheit of avodah zarah.
Maybe a reinvigoration of T"u b'Av is something to look forward to as we get closer to geulah.
Tuesday, August 01, 2017
Ki tavo'u lei'ra'os panay -- coming to be seen
Ki tavo'u lei'ra'os panay, mi bikesh zos m'yedchem r'mos chatzeiray?
Yishyahau haNavi, in the haftarah of Shabbos Chazon, says to those people coming to the Beis haMikdash, "Who needs you here? What business do you have trampling through the Mikdash?" When you come to make aliya la'regel on the three regalim, it's all for naught.
That's the gist of what the pasuk means, but that first phase is difficult. If the pasuk means to speak about coming to see Hashem in the Mikdash, it should say "liros panay." If it means to speak about being seen by Hashem, it should say "lei'ra'os lifanay." What's "leira'os panay?" It's like a grammatical hodge-podge that makes no sense.
You can ask the same question about the pasuk in chumash that talks about aliya la'regel. "...Yera'eh kol zechurcha es pnei Hashem" Here too, if it means to see Hashem, it should say "liros;" if it means to be seen, it should say "lifnei Hashem?"
There is an amazing Alshich that you can find in the Maros haTzov'os on Shmuel I 2:11 that I will save you some trouble looking for -- in your standard edition with the Malbim it's printed on the bottom of the page all the way in perek 22. You don't make aliya la'regel "liros," to see G-d, because that's impossible -- G-d has no face. The reason to make aliya la'regel is to be seen. But, says the Alshich, it's not "lifanei," but rather "es panay." There is a Zohar that tells us that the faces of tzadikim are called "apei Shechinta," the face of the Shechina. You want to see G-d's face? Look in the mirror. G-d wants us to be tzadikim -- he wants us to be able to look in the mirror and see his face, his reflection there.
On a previous 9 Av I posted a pshat that the greatness of Moshe Rabeinu, "temunas Hashem yabit," is not that he looked up to the Heavens and saw G-d like no other navi, but rather that when Moseh Rabeinu saw a simple Jew in Klal Yisrael, that was for him "temunas Hashem yabit." Moshe Rabeinu saw the pnei Hashem in every Jew he met. That's a navi, a manhig, the greatest of great (see the Netziv on that phrase).
The word "es" in Tanach often means the same as "im," with. The mitzvah of aliya la'regel is "yera'eh kol zechurcha" -- to be seen, but in order to stand before Hashem and be seen, you have to come "es panay" = im panay, with MY face, with Hashem's face reflected in our own. You want to have a Beis haMikdash and be able to walk in its halls? First ask yourself when you walk down the street do people say there goes the pnei Hashem, there goes a reflection of kvod Shamayim.
This is what Yishayahu was telling Klal Yisrael. We were given a mitzvah "leira'os panay" -- to come to the Mikdrash so that our faces, our "apei Shechinta," can be seen by Hashem. But if we don't behave the way we are supposed to, if our faces are indistinguishable G-d forbid, from the faces of the nations around us, then "Mi bikesh zos m'yedchem r'mos chatzeiray?"
My daughter this afternoon sent the picture below from Yerushalayim Ir Ha'kodesh where she has the zechus of spending the summer:
There were mobs of people by the kosel, by the makom mikdash.
I got this picture a short while after getting home from finishing kinos, which closed with the kinah of the Bobover Rebbe written for the Holocaust.
Do you think any Jew who lived through the horrors of the war would have imagined that just 70 years later we would have hundreds of Jewish youth gathered on 9 Av in our Jewish homeland, standing by the kosel under a Jewish degel, protected by Jewish soldiers, so that they could learn Torah and sing ani ma'amin in that makom kadosh?
We live in times of such great opportunity, such great potential, but when you read the news that is always so filled with machlokes and tragedy it is easy to lose sight of what we have achieved (or maybe I should say what Hashem has given us) and where we are headed. Of course we are still in galus, and it's still 9 Av, and we have what to mourn, but we also need to recognize chasdei Hashem. One day I am sure that we will not just be standing outside the walls of the kosel, but on top of the mountain as well. That's probably as unbelievable to most people today as dream of standing by the kosel would have been to someone 70 years ago. Yet here we are. But the navi is clear: it has to be "leira'os panay," to come to be seen by Hashem because we reflect in our faces, in who we are, in how we act, his greatness. That's what we have to work on.
Yishyahau haNavi, in the haftarah of Shabbos Chazon, says to those people coming to the Beis haMikdash, "Who needs you here? What business do you have trampling through the Mikdash?" When you come to make aliya la'regel on the three regalim, it's all for naught.
That's the gist of what the pasuk means, but that first phase is difficult. If the pasuk means to speak about coming to see Hashem in the Mikdash, it should say "liros panay." If it means to speak about being seen by Hashem, it should say "lei'ra'os lifanay." What's "leira'os panay?" It's like a grammatical hodge-podge that makes no sense.
You can ask the same question about the pasuk in chumash that talks about aliya la'regel. "...Yera'eh kol zechurcha es pnei Hashem" Here too, if it means to see Hashem, it should say "liros;" if it means to be seen, it should say "lifnei Hashem?"
There is an amazing Alshich that you can find in the Maros haTzov'os on Shmuel I 2:11 that I will save you some trouble looking for -- in your standard edition with the Malbim it's printed on the bottom of the page all the way in perek 22. You don't make aliya la'regel "liros," to see G-d, because that's impossible -- G-d has no face. The reason to make aliya la'regel is to be seen. But, says the Alshich, it's not "lifanei," but rather "es panay." There is a Zohar that tells us that the faces of tzadikim are called "apei Shechinta," the face of the Shechina. You want to see G-d's face? Look in the mirror. G-d wants us to be tzadikim -- he wants us to be able to look in the mirror and see his face, his reflection there.
On a previous 9 Av I posted a pshat that the greatness of Moshe Rabeinu, "temunas Hashem yabit," is not that he looked up to the Heavens and saw G-d like no other navi, but rather that when Moseh Rabeinu saw a simple Jew in Klal Yisrael, that was for him "temunas Hashem yabit." Moshe Rabeinu saw the pnei Hashem in every Jew he met. That's a navi, a manhig, the greatest of great (see the Netziv on that phrase).
The word "es" in Tanach often means the same as "im," with. The mitzvah of aliya la'regel is "yera'eh kol zechurcha" -- to be seen, but in order to stand before Hashem and be seen, you have to come "es panay" = im panay, with MY face, with Hashem's face reflected in our own. You want to have a Beis haMikdash and be able to walk in its halls? First ask yourself when you walk down the street do people say there goes the pnei Hashem, there goes a reflection of kvod Shamayim.
This is what Yishayahu was telling Klal Yisrael. We were given a mitzvah "leira'os panay" -- to come to the Mikdrash so that our faces, our "apei Shechinta," can be seen by Hashem. But if we don't behave the way we are supposed to, if our faces are indistinguishable G-d forbid, from the faces of the nations around us, then "Mi bikesh zos m'yedchem r'mos chatzeiray?"
My daughter this afternoon sent the picture below from Yerushalayim Ir Ha'kodesh where she has the zechus of spending the summer:
There were mobs of people by the kosel, by the makom mikdash.
I got this picture a short while after getting home from finishing kinos, which closed with the kinah of the Bobover Rebbe written for the Holocaust.
Do you think any Jew who lived through the horrors of the war would have imagined that just 70 years later we would have hundreds of Jewish youth gathered on 9 Av in our Jewish homeland, standing by the kosel under a Jewish degel, protected by Jewish soldiers, so that they could learn Torah and sing ani ma'amin in that makom kadosh?
We live in times of such great opportunity, such great potential, but when you read the news that is always so filled with machlokes and tragedy it is easy to lose sight of what we have achieved (or maybe I should say what Hashem has given us) and where we are headed. Of course we are still in galus, and it's still 9 Av, and we have what to mourn, but we also need to recognize chasdei Hashem. One day I am sure that we will not just be standing outside the walls of the kosel, but on top of the mountain as well. That's probably as unbelievable to most people today as dream of standing by the kosel would have been to someone 70 years ago. Yet here we are. But the navi is clear: it has to be "leira'os panay," to come to be seen by Hashem because we reflect in our faces, in who we are, in how we act, his greatness. That's what we have to work on.
Thursday, July 27, 2017
Eichah esa livadi -- complaint or compliment?
1. The ba'al korei usually reads the pasuk "eichah esa livadi..." in this week's parsha using the sad Megilas Eichah tune instead of the usual tune for krias ha'Torah. The tune "attunes" us to the fact that 9 Av is coming, and links the complaint voiced by Moshe about his burdens with the mourning cry of Yirmiyahu.
But was Moshe in fact complaining? Was be bemoaning his burdens?
R Meshulam Dovid Solovietchik points out that you get a very different impression from the Midrash. The pesichta to Eichah (#11) uses pesukim in chumash to contrast what should/could have been how we lived in Eretz Yisrael with what became of us during the churban as described in Eichah. For example, the midrash writes that had we been zocheh we would be reading "shalosh pe'amim ba'shana...," the pesukim describing aliya la'regel, but now we are read, "darkei tzion aveilus..." The midrash ends by saying had we been zocheh, we would be reading, "eichah esa livadi," but instead now we read "eichah yashvah badad."
According to the midrash, "eichah esa livadi" is a positive, something to celebrate. It shouldn't be read in a tune of mourning, but rather in a tune of jubilation.
This is not just fanciful derash. Ramban interprets the pasuk "al derech ha'peshat" that Klal Yisrael was not burdening Moshe with trivialities. Moshe's burdens were "torchachem" = teaching Torah, "masa'achem" - davening on behalf of those in need; "rivchem" = paskening dinei Torah. Moshe was overworked because he had to keep giving shiurim, saying tefilos for Klal Yisrael, and involving himself in shaylos. These things demand time and energy and work, but they are great things. Ha'levay every community should keep its Rabbi busy saying shiurim, davening, etc.
2. When one reads the story of the meraglim presented in our parsha one gets a sense that ikar chaseir min ha'sefer. We are told (1:25) that the meraglim brought back fruit and said, "Tovah ha'aretz..." and next thing you know the people are refusing to enter the land. Why? There is nothing mentioned in the meraglim's report as recorded here that would cause the people to have second thoughts. And why indeed is nothing mentioned of the slander of the meraglim, their report that the land was unconquerable and uninhabitable? Finally, why rebuke those present now, in year 40, those who were about to enter the land, with past history of their forefather's mistakes?
Maharasha (Ta'anis 29) highlights one additional difference between the account in our parsha and that of parshas Shlach that is the key to the puzzle. The story in Shlach records that the spies returned and reported, "el Moshe v'el Aharon v'el kol adas Bnei Yisrael" -- it was a public referendum, and the reaction to the report was public outcry. In our parsha, the Torah writes, "va'teiragnu b'ohaleichem," the crying was in private, in the tents of individual families.
Maharasha explains that the two parshiyos are addressing two different sins. The adults in the community heard the negative report of the spies and responded with public protest, as recorded in Shlach. They then went home, and what do you think they said to little Yankel or Sarah when they were tucking them into bed that night? Imagine the scary bed time story about what would happen if Moshe carried out this crazy plan of bringing them to Eretz Yisrael! Imagine the dinner conversation with the older kids listening in and participating. "Va'teiragnu b'ohaleichem" -- our parsha is about the sin of the crying of the families, those who had not heard the spies report directly, those who had no reason to think anything other than "tovah ha'aretz," but who nonetheless, fell into despair based on false news and false reports that they heard. The sin of thinking "b'sinas Hashem osanu," G-d hates us, G-d forbid, is not mentioned in Shlach -- that was not part of the public outcry, but was part of the private reaction based on second hand reports. It was the reaction of the generation that now stood before Moshe, mature, grown up, but still perhaps living in the shadow of that past experience of their youth. You cried "bechiya shel shinam" -- a cry of sinas chinam, hating G-d because of the mistaken impression that he hates you; therefore, this night of 9 Av in the future will be a night of destruction because of sinas chinam that caused the churban ha'bayis.
I'm struggling a bit figuring out how Maharasha fits certain pesukim into this approach, but be that as it may, the takeaway I think is that what was said "b'ohaleichem" is as significant as what is said in public. We have to inculcate in our homes a love of Eretz Yisrael. Hopefully we will be zocheh to get there ourselves one day, but even if not, we want out children to want to be there.
But was Moshe in fact complaining? Was be bemoaning his burdens?
R Meshulam Dovid Solovietchik points out that you get a very different impression from the Midrash. The pesichta to Eichah (#11) uses pesukim in chumash to contrast what should/could have been how we lived in Eretz Yisrael with what became of us during the churban as described in Eichah. For example, the midrash writes that had we been zocheh we would be reading "shalosh pe'amim ba'shana...," the pesukim describing aliya la'regel, but now we are read, "darkei tzion aveilus..." The midrash ends by saying had we been zocheh, we would be reading, "eichah esa livadi," but instead now we read "eichah yashvah badad."
According to the midrash, "eichah esa livadi" is a positive, something to celebrate. It shouldn't be read in a tune of mourning, but rather in a tune of jubilation.
This is not just fanciful derash. Ramban interprets the pasuk "al derech ha'peshat" that Klal Yisrael was not burdening Moshe with trivialities. Moshe's burdens were "torchachem" = teaching Torah, "masa'achem" - davening on behalf of those in need; "rivchem" = paskening dinei Torah. Moshe was overworked because he had to keep giving shiurim, saying tefilos for Klal Yisrael, and involving himself in shaylos. These things demand time and energy and work, but they are great things. Ha'levay every community should keep its Rabbi busy saying shiurim, davening, etc.
2. When one reads the story of the meraglim presented in our parsha one gets a sense that ikar chaseir min ha'sefer. We are told (1:25) that the meraglim brought back fruit and said, "Tovah ha'aretz..." and next thing you know the people are refusing to enter the land. Why? There is nothing mentioned in the meraglim's report as recorded here that would cause the people to have second thoughts. And why indeed is nothing mentioned of the slander of the meraglim, their report that the land was unconquerable and uninhabitable? Finally, why rebuke those present now, in year 40, those who were about to enter the land, with past history of their forefather's mistakes?
Maharasha (Ta'anis 29) highlights one additional difference between the account in our parsha and that of parshas Shlach that is the key to the puzzle. The story in Shlach records that the spies returned and reported, "el Moshe v'el Aharon v'el kol adas Bnei Yisrael" -- it was a public referendum, and the reaction to the report was public outcry. In our parsha, the Torah writes, "va'teiragnu b'ohaleichem," the crying was in private, in the tents of individual families.
Maharasha explains that the two parshiyos are addressing two different sins. The adults in the community heard the negative report of the spies and responded with public protest, as recorded in Shlach. They then went home, and what do you think they said to little Yankel or Sarah when they were tucking them into bed that night? Imagine the scary bed time story about what would happen if Moshe carried out this crazy plan of bringing them to Eretz Yisrael! Imagine the dinner conversation with the older kids listening in and participating. "Va'teiragnu b'ohaleichem" -- our parsha is about the sin of the crying of the families, those who had not heard the spies report directly, those who had no reason to think anything other than "tovah ha'aretz," but who nonetheless, fell into despair based on false news and false reports that they heard. The sin of thinking "b'sinas Hashem osanu," G-d hates us, G-d forbid, is not mentioned in Shlach -- that was not part of the public outcry, but was part of the private reaction based on second hand reports. It was the reaction of the generation that now stood before Moshe, mature, grown up, but still perhaps living in the shadow of that past experience of their youth. You cried "bechiya shel shinam" -- a cry of sinas chinam, hating G-d because of the mistaken impression that he hates you; therefore, this night of 9 Av in the future will be a night of destruction because of sinas chinam that caused the churban ha'bayis.
I'm struggling a bit figuring out how Maharasha fits certain pesukim into this approach, but be that as it may, the takeaway I think is that what was said "b'ohaleichem" is as significant as what is said in public. We have to inculcate in our homes a love of Eretz Yisrael. Hopefully we will be zocheh to get there ourselves one day, but even if not, we want out children to want to be there.
Thursday, July 20, 2017
no place to run
The Midrash opens Parshas Masei by telling us that although many great people -- Ya'akov, Moshe, David -- had to flee from their enemies, throughout our 40 years of travel in the desert not only did we not have to flee from enemies, but we didn't even have to run away from the snakes and scorpions.
Earlier this month we discussed yet again the famous Ohr haChaim, based on the Zohar, that says a human being, being a ba'al bechira, poses a greater threat than an animal because a human being can decide to act as he/she pleases irrespective of G-d's plan, but an animal is basically a robot.
Our Midrash seems to contradict that view, as it implies (...not only did we not have to flee from enemies, but we didn't have to flee from animals either...) that the snakes and scorpions posed a greater danger than human enemies.
I paraphrased the Midrash in order to convey what I think is its simple meaning, but if you read it carefully, the words suggest a deeper meaning. Sefas Emes points out that it does not say that we did not have to flee from danger, but rather "lo hinachti eschem livro'ach," G-d did not let us flee. It's not that we encountered no danger in the desert. On the contrary, the desert was filled with dangers. G-d, however, did not let us run away from them. We were forced, with his help, to face down the threats.
All of life's challenges are there to being us closer to G-d. Sometimes a person davens that Hashem deliver them from needing a refuah, a shiduch, employment, etc. and Hashem enables them to escape the situation of need -- the person is able to flee from danger. But there is another way to come closer to Hashem when faced with an obstacle. "Min ha'meitzar karasi K-h" -- a person can find Hashem from within the dire straits themselves. Rather than escaping the situation, the person can discover that Hashem is right there with them in their suffering, in their sorrow, in their needs, and that itself gives them the ability to overcome. "Bein ha'metzarim" = "Min ha'meitzar..." We are hedged in with no way out, no place to run. "Lo hinachti eschem livro'ach." But "imo anochi b'tzarah," Hashem is here with us, and an appreciation of that truth is itself a way out.
On a completely different topic... has anyone else noticed the numerous ads for various events, some of which do benefit worthwhile organizations that this post should take nothing way from, that are basically exercises in gluttony? Each one boasts of bigger and better meats prepared by various "master" barbequers (how hard is it to throw some food on a grill? Even I can do it!), hand rolled cigars (I kid you not), scotch tasting, etc. etc.
Maybe I don't like it because my subconscious is bothered by the fact that I never get to go to one of these things, but I just can't square in my mind things like this with concepts like kedusha and tahara. You want to do something like this in your own backyard -- be my guest. But is this what you want associated with yeshivos? With community mosdos? You can't even put a woman's picture in a yeshiva journal because it somehow is beneath our lofty standards of kedusha, but stuff like this goes?
I don't understand it, but there is much in life I don't understand.
Earlier this month we discussed yet again the famous Ohr haChaim, based on the Zohar, that says a human being, being a ba'al bechira, poses a greater threat than an animal because a human being can decide to act as he/she pleases irrespective of G-d's plan, but an animal is basically a robot.
Our Midrash seems to contradict that view, as it implies (...not only did we not have to flee from enemies, but we didn't have to flee from animals either...) that the snakes and scorpions posed a greater danger than human enemies.
I paraphrased the Midrash in order to convey what I think is its simple meaning, but if you read it carefully, the words suggest a deeper meaning. Sefas Emes points out that it does not say that we did not have to flee from danger, but rather "lo hinachti eschem livro'ach," G-d did not let us flee. It's not that we encountered no danger in the desert. On the contrary, the desert was filled with dangers. G-d, however, did not let us run away from them. We were forced, with his help, to face down the threats.
All of life's challenges are there to being us closer to G-d. Sometimes a person davens that Hashem deliver them from needing a refuah, a shiduch, employment, etc. and Hashem enables them to escape the situation of need -- the person is able to flee from danger. But there is another way to come closer to Hashem when faced with an obstacle. "Min ha'meitzar karasi K-h" -- a person can find Hashem from within the dire straits themselves. Rather than escaping the situation, the person can discover that Hashem is right there with them in their suffering, in their sorrow, in their needs, and that itself gives them the ability to overcome. "Bein ha'metzarim" = "Min ha'meitzar..." We are hedged in with no way out, no place to run. "Lo hinachti eschem livro'ach." But "imo anochi b'tzarah," Hashem is here with us, and an appreciation of that truth is itself a way out.
On a completely different topic... has anyone else noticed the numerous ads for various events, some of which do benefit worthwhile organizations that this post should take nothing way from, that are basically exercises in gluttony? Each one boasts of bigger and better meats prepared by various "master" barbequers (how hard is it to throw some food on a grill? Even I can do it!), hand rolled cigars (I kid you not), scotch tasting, etc. etc.
Maybe I don't like it because my subconscious is bothered by the fact that I never get to go to one of these things, but I just can't square in my mind things like this with concepts like kedusha and tahara. You want to do something like this in your own backyard -- be my guest. But is this what you want associated with yeshivos? With community mosdos? You can't even put a woman's picture in a yeshiva journal because it somehow is beneath our lofty standards of kedusha, but stuff like this goes?
I don't understand it, but there is much in life I don't understand.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
do we have to ask Hashem to keep his promise?
V'lo chilisi es Bnei Yisrael b'kinasi... If not for Pinchas taking action, that would have been it -- end of the story, sof pasuk, full stop, G-d forbid. Jewish history would have ended a mere 40 years after we were freed from Egypt. How do you wrap your mind around such a pasuk? Is such a thing even conceivable? Just a few days ago on 17 Tamuz we read Moshe's plea for mercy after the cheit ha'eigel. There too, Hashem threatened to start again with a Bnei Yisrael 2.0, but Moshe davened, "zechor l'avadecha... asher nishbata lahem bach," and reminded Hashem of his promise to make Bnei Yisrael a great nation and give them Eretz Yisrael. Rashi explains "nishbata lahem BACH": G-d did not place his hand on a whatever to take an oath. G-d took an oath on Himself. Just like G-d is eternal and unchanging, so too, his promise is eternal and unchanging. There is no possibility of an end for Bnei Yisrael or a 2.0 So what does our parsha mean?
And what if Moshe had not davened, "zechor... asher nishbata lahem bach?" Would the promise be any less binding? Do you have to pray in order for G-d to fulfill his promise?
There is one circumstance that seems to allow for Hashem to break his promise. In parshas Vayeitzei Hashem promises Ya'akov Avinu that his will protect and sustain him in his travels. Ya'akov responds, "Im y'hiyeh Elokim imadi... v'nasan li lechem le'echol u'beged lilbosh," etc." It sounds like Ya'akov is uncertain whether Hashem will fulfill his promise, and he is davening for it to come true. Why the uncertainty? Chazal answer: shema yigrom ha'cheit. The simple pshat in that answer is that Ya'akov did not doubt G-d -- Ya'akov doubted himself. Ya'akov was worried that perhaps he would prove unworthy of G-d's blessing due to his sins, and if so, G-d would be off the hook and not have to keep his word.
R' Leibele Eiger, however, says a chiddush: G-d's word is a reality; his promise in unbreakable. It is going to come true no matter what. "Shema yigrom ha'cheit" doesn't mean that G-d has an out. "Shema yigrom ha'cheit" means that instead of the promise coming true m'meila, Hashem will have to intervene and cause the person to have a hisorerus to once again become worthy of the promise being fulfilled.
One of my favorite pieces in the Ishbitzer is his interpretation of "terem nikra'u v'ani e'eneh, od heim m'dabrim v'ani eshma." If G-d responds "terem nikra'u," before we even call out to him, them what's the "od heim m'dabrim...?" He responded already before our dibur!? The Ishbitzer answers that "terem nikra'u" means Hashem responds by giving us the hisorerus to pray and call to him. He gives is the inspiration we need! Then, once we start davening, he listens to our prayers.
R' Leibele Eiger is telling us that either we will be inspired and deserve G-d's promise, or he will inspire us and cause us to have a hisorerus and thereby deserve it. Either way, it will always come true.
Now we understand why sometimes there is a need for tefilah even though Hashem has made a promise. Tefilah is the hisorerus that Hashem awakens in the nation, or even in a single individual speaking up on the nation's behalf, that makes keeping the promise possible, that makes keeping the promise worth doing, even when all seems lost.
We have it all backwards, says R' Leibele Eiger. It's not that Pinchas took action, "heishiv es chamasi," and therefore, "v'lo chilisi es Bnei Yisrael b'kina'si," and if not for that, all would be lost. Rather, "v'lo chilisi es Bnei Yisrael," Hashem promised never to destroy us, and therefore, He inspired a Pinchas to take action, "heishiv es chamasi." Pinchas was a tool in Hashem's hands so that the promise could be kept.
(Because Hashem used him as a tool, he gets the reward of shalom. To me it seems a little difficult to get this to fit the Midrash of "b'din hu she'yitol secharo," but you have to say some explanation for that Midrash anyway.)
There will always be a Moshe in every generation, a Pinchas, a Ya'akov Avinu. There will always be someone to bring us back, to plead on our behalf, a tool Hashem uses to bring us inspiration so we are never completely lost.
And what if Moshe had not davened, "zechor... asher nishbata lahem bach?" Would the promise be any less binding? Do you have to pray in order for G-d to fulfill his promise?
There is one circumstance that seems to allow for Hashem to break his promise. In parshas Vayeitzei Hashem promises Ya'akov Avinu that his will protect and sustain him in his travels. Ya'akov responds, "Im y'hiyeh Elokim imadi... v'nasan li lechem le'echol u'beged lilbosh," etc." It sounds like Ya'akov is uncertain whether Hashem will fulfill his promise, and he is davening for it to come true. Why the uncertainty? Chazal answer: shema yigrom ha'cheit. The simple pshat in that answer is that Ya'akov did not doubt G-d -- Ya'akov doubted himself. Ya'akov was worried that perhaps he would prove unworthy of G-d's blessing due to his sins, and if so, G-d would be off the hook and not have to keep his word.
R' Leibele Eiger, however, says a chiddush: G-d's word is a reality; his promise in unbreakable. It is going to come true no matter what. "Shema yigrom ha'cheit" doesn't mean that G-d has an out. "Shema yigrom ha'cheit" means that instead of the promise coming true m'meila, Hashem will have to intervene and cause the person to have a hisorerus to once again become worthy of the promise being fulfilled.
One of my favorite pieces in the Ishbitzer is his interpretation of "terem nikra'u v'ani e'eneh, od heim m'dabrim v'ani eshma." If G-d responds "terem nikra'u," before we even call out to him, them what's the "od heim m'dabrim...?" He responded already before our dibur!? The Ishbitzer answers that "terem nikra'u" means Hashem responds by giving us the hisorerus to pray and call to him. He gives is the inspiration we need! Then, once we start davening, he listens to our prayers.
R' Leibele Eiger is telling us that either we will be inspired and deserve G-d's promise, or he will inspire us and cause us to have a hisorerus and thereby deserve it. Either way, it will always come true.
Now we understand why sometimes there is a need for tefilah even though Hashem has made a promise. Tefilah is the hisorerus that Hashem awakens in the nation, or even in a single individual speaking up on the nation's behalf, that makes keeping the promise possible, that makes keeping the promise worth doing, even when all seems lost.
We have it all backwards, says R' Leibele Eiger. It's not that Pinchas took action, "heishiv es chamasi," and therefore, "v'lo chilisi es Bnei Yisrael b'kina'si," and if not for that, all would be lost. Rather, "v'lo chilisi es Bnei Yisrael," Hashem promised never to destroy us, and therefore, He inspired a Pinchas to take action, "heishiv es chamasi." Pinchas was a tool in Hashem's hands so that the promise could be kept.
(Because Hashem used him as a tool, he gets the reward of shalom. To me it seems a little difficult to get this to fit the Midrash of "b'din hu she'yitol secharo," but you have to say some explanation for that Midrash anyway.)
There will always be a Moshe in every generation, a Pinchas, a Ya'akov Avinu. There will always be someone to bring us back, to plead on our behalf, a tool Hashem uses to bring us inspiration so we are never completely lost.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
what the three weeks really are about
1) R' Zalman Melamed writes here:
"Yizal mayim m'dalav..." Bilam said. The Megaleh Amukos writes that the shem Hashem of adnus has 4 letters, and if you spell out each letter, e.g. aleph = aleph, lamed, pei... you end up with 12 letters. These 12 letters correspond to the months of the year, i.e. aleph will be Nisan, lamed = Iyar, etc. It comes out that Tamuz and Av are the letters daled and lamed. This, says the Igra d'Kallah is what Bilam's blessing hints at: the bitter tears of "dalav," our daled-lamed of Tamuz and Av, should be transformed into sweet flowing waters of rachamim.
Every year, as the Three Weeks (of mourning over the Temple’s destruction) approach, people ask me all sorts of questions relating to the nature of mourning: What is and is not permissible in kindergartens? Can movies be watched? Fieldtrips? Swimming?2) For those who like remazim:
All such questions pertain to mourning practices, but nobody ever asks about what sort of paths should be followed to achieve repentance during these days!
"Yizal mayim m'dalav..." Bilam said. The Megaleh Amukos writes that the shem Hashem of adnus has 4 letters, and if you spell out each letter, e.g. aleph = aleph, lamed, pei... you end up with 12 letters. These 12 letters correspond to the months of the year, i.e. aleph will be Nisan, lamed = Iyar, etc. It comes out that Tamuz and Av are the letters daled and lamed. This, says the Igra d'Kallah is what Bilam's blessing hints at: the bitter tears of "dalav," our daled-lamed of Tamuz and Av, should be transformed into sweet flowing waters of rachamim.
Thursday, July 06, 2017
v'lo ra'ah amal b'yisrael -- whose suitcases are we schlepping?
1) If someone is lost in the desert and doesn't know when Shabbos is he/she has to make kiddush and havdalah one day a week as if that day was Shabbos, and on any given day no melacha except for what is needed for pikuach nefesh may be done lest that day is Shabbos. The MG"A asks why this should be so. Shabbos is only one day out of seven. Whatever day is Shabbos should be bateil b'rov to the six days of chol.
Question: how can you speak of bitul brov (or kavua) with respect to days? The chiyuv to keeps Shabbos is a chovas ha'gavra (see R' Yosef Engel in Esvan D'Oraysa re: whether time bound chiyuvim are issurei gavra or issurei cheftza) on the person, not a chiyuv of the day. The person lost in the desert, the gavra, is not bateil to anything?
When I saw this question I first thought it was great and now I'm not sure it makes sense. True, keeping Shabbos may be an issur gavra, but you have to define the day before you can say the chovas ha'gavra gets off the ground. It's an intrinsic condition to the chiyuv.
2) Mah tovu ohalecha Ya'akov. Rashi explains that Bilam saw that ain pischeihem mechuvanim.
Chazal teach us that if we just open a pesach k'chudo shel machat, an opening the size of the hole in a needle, to let Hashem into our hearts, he will open for us a pesach as wide as the door of the heichal. R' Meir Shapiro explained that this is what Bilam saw. Ain pischeihem mechuvanim: the door Hashem opens for us is completely out of proportion to the door we opened for him -- the two are not aligned. But Hashem loves us, so that's the way it is.
3) The gemara (A"Z 4) writes that Bilam's success was due to the fact that he was able to figure out when the one moment of the day that Hashem gets angry. Hashem did a miracle and withheld his anger the entire time that Bilam tried to curse us.
The gemara continues that R' Yehoshua ben Levi had an obnoxious neighbor who was a min and drove him crazy, so he decided to wait for that moment of Hashem's anger and then ask Hashem to do away with this neighbor. The moment came, but just then RYb"L fell asleep. He took this as a sign that v'rachamav al kol ma'asav, Hashem has mercy even on the wicked and did not like his plan.
If Hashem gets angry for this one moment every single day, there must be some need in the seder of the world for such a thing to happen. So why withhold that anger just to thwart Bilam? Hashem, for example, does not stop the sun from rising just because idolaters worship it. Why didn't Hashem just make Bilam fall asleep like he did to RYb"L instead of interrupting the course of nature?
We've discussed lots of times (e.g. here, here, and other places ) the famous view of the Ohr haChaim (and others) that while Hashem can force animals and inanimate objects to conform to his plan, a ba'al bechira, a human being that has free choice, has far more latitude and can do an end run around Hashem's designs. What that (probably) means is not that Hashem does not have control over people -- what it means is that it takes for more zechuyos to cause/ask for Hashem to interfere with a ba'al bechira.
Of course if Bilam just fell asleep his plan would have been thwarted. Our parsha is telling us a bigger chiddush, explains R' Yerucham Lebovitz. Even though Bilam was awake and had free choice as a ba'al bechira to act against Klal Yisrael, he still did not succeed.
4) V'lo ra'ah amal b'Yisrael... A beautiful Ohr haChaim here
גם נתכוון לומר שהצדיקים הגם שעושים מצות וכל עסקם בתורה אינם מרגישים שיש להם עמל, על דרך אומרו (תהלים עג) עמל הוא בעיני אלא אדרבא כאדם המרויח וכאדם המשתעשע בשעשועים לרוב חשקם בתורה
Mitzvos should not been seen as a burden or bother -- amal -- but rather as a pleasure to do.
R' Ya'akov Neiman in his Darkei Musar quotes a famous mashal (I'll write it over anyway : )of the Dubno Magid which the Kotzker said must have been given b'ruach hakodesh. V'lo oso karasa Ya'akov, ki yagata bi Yisrael (Yeshaya 43:22). Hashem criticizes Klal Yisrael for not calling to him, for being weary of him. The mashal: the was a royal officer who was travelling through some town, and when he got off the train he went ahead to his hotel and left his bags to be brought later. Later that day the bellhop, huffing and puffing and sweating from the exertion, knocked on the hotel door and told him that he had brought the suitcases. Without even looking, the officer replied that he was confused and had brought someone else's bags. "How do you know?" the bellhop asked. "You didn't even look at them!' "Because," answered the officer, "My bags were light -- you obviously have been struggling with whatever you brought, and so I know they are not mine."
Hashem tells Klal Yisrael, "OSI lo karasa," whatever frumkeit you have been killing yourself over and struggling with, it's not MY frumkeit, that's not MY Torah and mitzvos, "ki yagata bi Yisrael," because whatever it is you think you are doing is an unbearable and painful burden. Those suitcases you've been struggling with, says Hashem, are not my suitcases. When you are schlepping my suitcases, "v'lo ra'ah amal b'Yisrael," they are no bother at all.
Question: how can you speak of bitul brov (or kavua) with respect to days? The chiyuv to keeps Shabbos is a chovas ha'gavra (see R' Yosef Engel in Esvan D'Oraysa re: whether time bound chiyuvim are issurei gavra or issurei cheftza) on the person, not a chiyuv of the day. The person lost in the desert, the gavra, is not bateil to anything?
When I saw this question I first thought it was great and now I'm not sure it makes sense. True, keeping Shabbos may be an issur gavra, but you have to define the day before you can say the chovas ha'gavra gets off the ground. It's an intrinsic condition to the chiyuv.
2) Mah tovu ohalecha Ya'akov. Rashi explains that Bilam saw that ain pischeihem mechuvanim.
Chazal teach us that if we just open a pesach k'chudo shel machat, an opening the size of the hole in a needle, to let Hashem into our hearts, he will open for us a pesach as wide as the door of the heichal. R' Meir Shapiro explained that this is what Bilam saw. Ain pischeihem mechuvanim: the door Hashem opens for us is completely out of proportion to the door we opened for him -- the two are not aligned. But Hashem loves us, so that's the way it is.
3) The gemara (A"Z 4) writes that Bilam's success was due to the fact that he was able to figure out when the one moment of the day that Hashem gets angry. Hashem did a miracle and withheld his anger the entire time that Bilam tried to curse us.
The gemara continues that R' Yehoshua ben Levi had an obnoxious neighbor who was a min and drove him crazy, so he decided to wait for that moment of Hashem's anger and then ask Hashem to do away with this neighbor. The moment came, but just then RYb"L fell asleep. He took this as a sign that v'rachamav al kol ma'asav, Hashem has mercy even on the wicked and did not like his plan.
If Hashem gets angry for this one moment every single day, there must be some need in the seder of the world for such a thing to happen. So why withhold that anger just to thwart Bilam? Hashem, for example, does not stop the sun from rising just because idolaters worship it. Why didn't Hashem just make Bilam fall asleep like he did to RYb"L instead of interrupting the course of nature?
We've discussed lots of times (e.g. here, here, and other places ) the famous view of the Ohr haChaim (and others) that while Hashem can force animals and inanimate objects to conform to his plan, a ba'al bechira, a human being that has free choice, has far more latitude and can do an end run around Hashem's designs. What that (probably) means is not that Hashem does not have control over people -- what it means is that it takes for more zechuyos to cause/ask for Hashem to interfere with a ba'al bechira.
Of course if Bilam just fell asleep his plan would have been thwarted. Our parsha is telling us a bigger chiddush, explains R' Yerucham Lebovitz. Even though Bilam was awake and had free choice as a ba'al bechira to act against Klal Yisrael, he still did not succeed.
4) V'lo ra'ah amal b'Yisrael... A beautiful Ohr haChaim here
גם נתכוון לומר שהצדיקים הגם שעושים מצות וכל עסקם בתורה אינם מרגישים שיש להם עמל, על דרך אומרו (תהלים עג) עמל הוא בעיני אלא אדרבא כאדם המרויח וכאדם המשתעשע בשעשועים לרוב חשקם בתורה
Mitzvos should not been seen as a burden or bother -- amal -- but rather as a pleasure to do.
R' Ya'akov Neiman in his Darkei Musar quotes a famous mashal (I'll write it over anyway : )of the Dubno Magid which the Kotzker said must have been given b'ruach hakodesh. V'lo oso karasa Ya'akov, ki yagata bi Yisrael (Yeshaya 43:22). Hashem criticizes Klal Yisrael for not calling to him, for being weary of him. The mashal: the was a royal officer who was travelling through some town, and when he got off the train he went ahead to his hotel and left his bags to be brought later. Later that day the bellhop, huffing and puffing and sweating from the exertion, knocked on the hotel door and told him that he had brought the suitcases. Without even looking, the officer replied that he was confused and had brought someone else's bags. "How do you know?" the bellhop asked. "You didn't even look at them!' "Because," answered the officer, "My bags were light -- you obviously have been struggling with whatever you brought, and so I know they are not mine."
Hashem tells Klal Yisrael, "OSI lo karasa," whatever frumkeit you have been killing yourself over and struggling with, it's not MY frumkeit, that's not MY Torah and mitzvos, "ki yagata bi Yisrael," because whatever it is you think you are doing is an unbearable and painful burden. Those suitcases you've been struggling with, says Hashem, are not my suitcases. When you are schlepping my suitcases, "v'lo ra'ah amal b'Yisrael," they are no bother at all.
Thursday, June 29, 2017
vayishlach malachim -- messengers of Ya'akov, messengers of Moshe
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.
"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 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.
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