bitachon (II)

The Chazon Ish's model of bitachon is the opposite of nihilism. It sees suffering as directed by G-d and therefore ultimately justified. However, it makes no promise that G-d will offer deliverance from calamity -- if calamity is deserved, why should he? If not deserved, then G-d would not let it happen in the first place.

I think it's fair to say that the average person thinks of bitachon as more than that. When a person is suffering and turns to faith, he/she does so not just with the hope of finding meaning, but rather he/she hopes for redemption / salvation. Is there no basis for this approach?

Perhaps there is. Here is a rough translation of the Ramban in his work on Emunah u'Bitachon, ch 1:

"Trust (btach) in G-d and do good", meaning even though you have no good deeds to call upon, even though you know you are wicked, nonetheless, trust in G-d, for he is merciful and will have mercy upon you... Therefore it states first "trust" and only afterwards "do good" -- meaning, whether one is righteous [i.e. one has already done good] or wicked [i.e. one has not yet done good], trust in G-d.

This is certainly a remarkable statement coming from the Ramban who writes elsewhere (e.g. see his comments to Braishis 18:19 and R' Bachyei there) that only the purely righteous are guaranteed of direct hashgacha protection by G-d. According the the Chazon Ish it seems to makes no sense at all. Why should someone unworthy receive G-d's grace? Bitachon simply means trusting that G-d delivers just rewards, not that G-d delivers more than a person deserves?! Maharal (Nesiv haBitachon) similarly writes:

How great is the trait of bitachon... even for those who see and think that no hope is left, do not despair! Rather trust in G-d's eternal protection, because G-d can provide salvation. When a person places his/her trust in G-d, then it becomes incumbent upon G-d to save such a person..."

The apparent hopelessness of the situation or unworthiness of the victim is not a reason to despair of G-d's deliverance as absurd as that hope may be (I am reminded of Kierkegaard's knight of faith in contrast to the Chazon Ish that reminded me of the knight of resignation). Maharal proves the point from a number of gemaras. Brachos 60 tells us the story of R' Akiva who was stranded in the woods, had his donkey eaten, his rooster devoured, his lamp extinguished by the wind, but still trusted in G-d. In the end he discovered the town he might have stayed in was captured by an enemy army and he escaped because he was in the dark woods with no braying donkey to give him away or rooster to make noise. According to the Chazon Ish, what sort of bitachon is this? The story should more aptly end with R' Akiva suffering in the cold but not complaining because of his faith. But that is clearly not the lesson. The story ends on a note of this worldly salvation because that is the fruit of bitachon.

When Hillel heard a tumult in his city (fire engines? police siren?), he declared that he had no worries about his home because one who trusts G-d need not fear. According to the Chazon Ish, why not? All bitachon promises is that suffering is not meaningless, not that suffering does not occur! The gemara clearly seems to suggest otherwise.

There are two important questions that beg asking:

1) If a person is suffering because his/her behavior warranted G-d's punishment (and the principle of schar v'onesh suggests that all punishment is ultimately just), then by what right does that person have to demand salavation from G-d? As noted earlier, hashgacha-protection is promised to the righteous. How can bitachon deliver the same promise to all?

2) The more difficult question comes from this week's parsha. The Chazon Ish, the Chovos heLevavos, and others all write that true trust in G-d means a person need not worry. According to the Chazon Ish, at least we can say that if anything bad happens it must truly be deserved and part of G-d's plan -- nothing outside what G-d decrees can happen to a person, so there is no point in worrying about it. According to other models of bitachon, we can even go so far as to say that bitachon itself can be a source of salvation. Yet, Ya'akov Avinu who not only had the same general obligation to trust G-d that any of us do but also had an explicit guarantee from G-d against harm was filled with fear over his encounter with Eisav. Chazal (Brachos 4) interpret Ya'akov's fear as worry lest his sins render him unworthy of G-d's protection, but this still does not help. According to the Ramban, trust in G-d applies even to the wicked and undeserving. If Hillel was not afraid of calamity because of his trust in G-d, if R' Akiva was sure all would work out for the best because of his trust in G-d, if even the wicked can rely on bitachon, why should Ya'akov have been worried? If worry is the antithesis of faith, how are we to interpret Ya'akov's reaction to meeting Eisav?

bitachon (I)

I hate to digress from the topic of rov, but I want to address the issue of bitachon a little more thoroughly because it relates to this week's parsha, but also because it is an important and timely topic. I don't pretend to have reached maskanos and have found my own views on this topic changing over time. I say that not just to convey caveat emptor, but also because I think implementing bitachon and growing in it's understanding is an individualized, ongoing process. The best a post or shiur on the topic can do is to inspire a person to look at the sources and start that process.

A good starting point on this issue is a little kuntres of the Chazon Ish printed in the back of the Taharos section and reprinted as a separate sefer entitled Emunah u'Bitachon. The C.I. contrasts emunah, which means theoretical belief in G-d, with bitachon, which is the day to day implementation of emunah. Emunah tells us that G-d is in charge of the world; bitachon tells us how to live with that knowledge. Bitachon does not mean that G-d will not make a person suffer illness, unemployment, or other tragedy; it simply means that a person who is suffering is allowed to make whatever the normal efforts to relieve that situation are and then trust that whatever ultimately happens is due to G-d's plan. I think this summary by R' Hershel Shachter shlit"a sums it up well:

The Chazon Ish explains in his essay on Emunah and Bitachon, that when we ask a sick person to have bitachon, it does not mean that he should be convinced that he will recover. That would be ridiculous – one can not be sure that he will not die. Bitachon simply means to live by emunah, and emunah means believing that G-d has complete control over everything in the world. If G-d wants me to live and be healthy and happy, then there is nothing anyone can do to negate that. If for some reason, G-d wants me to suffer, then as that is His will, we should accept it with joy, with the knowledge that anything G-d does is for the good.

So, to respond to a comment yesterday which raised the question, "How should I have trust in Hashem that all will be well?", the answer is, at least according to the Chazon Ish, that you should not! There is no such guarantee that all will be well. All we can say is that whatever happens is directed by G-d, but we cannot say that things will be pleasant for us along the way or that we will get the hoped for outcome just because we want it to happen and trust Hashem to make it so.

(As an aside, compare the Chazon Ish's position with Kierkegaard's knight of infinite resignation in his Fear and Trembling.)

The story does not end there... more to come bl"n.

kallah magazine latest issue

The latest issue of Kallah Magazine is out and has been dropped off in Brooklyn, Queens, 5T, and will be coming to Teaneck and Baltimore soon, so look for it. Also, take a look at the website for some news regarding the K.M. hopefully upcoming book.

eid echad testifying against a rov (I)

According to many Rishonim an eid echad cannot testify against a chazakah (see Yevamos 88). Would an eid echad be believed against a rov? For example, if I have three pieces of meat in front of me and only one is kosher, can I trust an eid echad who identifies the kosher piece?

As a general rule halacha tells us ruba v'chazakah -- ruba adif. When there is a clash between the evidence of rov and the evidence of chazakah, the evidence of rov is considered superior and more authoritative. It would stand to reason therefore that if an eid echad is not believed against the inferior form of evidence of chazakah, he would certainly not be believed against the superior evidence of rov.

The Achonim are bothered by this conclusion because it flies in the face of common practice. As the Pnei Yehoshua points out in a few places (e.g. see Kidushin 63b), we buy meat trusting an eid echad (the butcher) that it's kosher even though most of the meat in the world (rov) is treif.

My son brought to my attention an interesting sevara of R' Naftali Trop. One of the other proofs of the Pnei Yehoshua (quoted by R' N"T, but which I have not found in the Pnei Yehoshua yet) that an eid echad is believed is from the fact that we would accept an eid echad's testimony as to who the rightful owner of a lost object is even though there are many more people in the world (rov) who are not the owner than who are.

R' Naftali says this case is not a proof --this case of returning a lost object is completely different than the case of the mixed up pieces of meat that we started with. Can you figure out the difference?

economic downturn and bitachon: a realistic approach

I have not attended any of the numerous shiurim that have sprung up to preach the message of bitachon during economic downturn because I don't know if there is much to say on the topic. Obviously, trying times demand bitachon -- knowing that is no kuntz; the kuntz is implemeting it. If someone has heard a chiddush in this sugya, I would be interested to know what it is.

One refreshingly realistic approach to this whole parsha that I saw recently can be found in the Sichos MoHaRaN (Avodas Hashem #55). R' Nachman writes that bitachon is a wonderful thing to have, but it is even nicer to have a steady job. Quite a mouthful from a tzadik who we usually associate with other-wordly spirituality and not Torah im derech eretz ideals! Of course, Rabbi Nachman of Breslov was not anti exercising bitachon. But, as the Sichos Moharan explains, exercising bitachon is a very demanding avodah. R' Nachman does not just mean demanding in the practical sense, e.g. a person who is out of work is not going to write out a check of tzedaka when he has no source of income. R' Nachman means bitachon is demanding in the emotional, psychological, and spiritual sense. Ask anyone out of work and they can tell you how psychologically trying it is to remain hopeful and keep a seder and not fall into despair while trying to remain financially afloat and find other work. All that energy that goes into maintaining a sense of bitachon has to come from somewhere. Inevitably, it is a drain on other areas of life and other areas of avodas Hashem. A person's head is obviously not into a Keztos or R' Akiva Eiger when he doesn't know how to pay his mortgage. A person's mouth may say "l'shem yichud", but his mind and heart are on the electric bill or next month's tuition that he can't pay.

It is almost too easy to give a shiur or personal advice extolling the virtue of bitachon without really having a sense of the emotional trauma that people may be going through. That, I think, is what Rabbi Nachman is trying to warn against (and if there was ever a tzadik who was attuned to souls in crisis, it was R' Nachman.) There is no magic "bitachon switch" that can be turned on to continue life as normal despite crisis -- it would be foolish to think otherwise or for anyone to give a shiur or offer advice suggesting otherwise. At the same time, we need to realize that Hashem ultimately is the one assigning a particular avodah to each of us. It would be better to not have a crisis and to be able to devote one's spiritual energy to other areas of avodah, be it learning, be it chessed, etc. But if Hashem forces one into a situation where greater bitachon is demanded, then it is Hashem's will that a person devote his or her spiritual energy to work on this midah even if it poses obstacles (and it will!) in other areas of avodah.

einei Leah rakos -- the power of tefilah

Given that 1) Eliezer had travelled to Lavan's home to look for a bride and made clear that Avraham's family would marry only from his own stock; 2) It was known to Avraham (at least according to Rashi's interpretation) when Rivka was born depite the distance between the different family branches; 3) Avraham and Yitzchak were apparently well known figures; 4) Lavan was well known -- the shepherds Ya'akov encounters when he enters Charan all knew of him; I don't really see why Rabbi Avi Billet thinks it so improbable that the talk around town should have been that Ya'akov would marry Rachel and Eisav would marry Leah.

Be that as it may, I would like to argue that precisely this Midrash on "einei Leah rakos" is THE key to understanding the entire following parsha.

Isn't it amazing and ironic that right after being promised by Hashem en route that he will be protected and guarded from harm Ya'akov is tricked into marrying the wrong girl and ends up working seven extra years? What happened to the promise?

Rashi quotes half the Midrash, but leaves it to us to look up the other half. "Einei Leah rakos" leah's eyes were soft from from crying because the talk of the town was that she would marry Eisav. But, continues the Midrash, "kashe hi hatefilah shebitla es hagezeira" -- because of Leah's crying, because of the tears she shed, the decree that she would marry Eisav was annulled. Not only that, continue Chazal, but "v'lo od, elah shekadmah l'achosah" -- she was even married to Ya'akov before her sister.

The idea that Leah would marry Eisav was not just "talk of the town", but was a gezeirah min shamayim (which the Midrash, as it does elsewhere, places in the mouth of a third-party) and it was through the koach hatefilah, the power of her prayer, that Leah overcame it. "Einei Leah rakos" is the introduction to WHO Leah is -- she is the embodiment of the midah of tefilah. Tefilah is, in the language of this Midrash, "kashe", it is something difficult, because Leah's prayers which were so powerful that it gained her a union with Ya'akov at expense of her sister Rachel's place as the preferred bride.

In reality, Lavan had no power to harm Ya'akov, but because of the tefilah of Leah, because of "einei Leah rakos", he was able to succeed to bring about her marriage to Ya'akov. We need to "see" the entire continuation of the parsha through Leah's eyes (sorry for the pun).

As I wrote on the parsha sheet, it was not the 14 years of learning that led Ya'akov to experience the revelation of the ladder, but it was his heartfelt tefilah at the makom mikdash on the way to Charan. The parsha which begins with Ya'akov's realization of the power of tefilah continues by showing us how Leah's personality as the embodiment of tefilah, her "einei Leah rakos", made her the perfect match for him.

What Chazal are revealing is that the successful trickey of Lavan and the marriage of Ya'akov to Leah, which we might have thought to be just an "accident", were in fact just results brought about through koach hatefilah. This theme of the koach hatefilah continues through Leah's naming of her children (see the Ohr haChaim) and through the disagreement between Ya'akov and Rachel over his lack of davening for her. To ignore this Midrash may allow for a more literal or rational pshuto shel mikra on a particular pasuk, but comes at the tremendous expense of ignoring this beautiful theme which Chazal allow us to identify as underlying the entire parsha.

Ya'akov's neder and the mitzvah of ma'aser

After being promised Hashem's protection and being given a guarantee that he will return home safely Ya'akov wakes from his prophectic dream and takes a neder asking Hashem to protect him, provide him with food and shelter, and ensure that he returns home safely. In exchange, Ya'akov accepts Hashem and promises to take ma'aser from all his income.

Why did Ya'akov take a neder asking Hashem for these protections when Hashem already had promised him that and more in his dream? Furthermore, why is Ya'akov's promise to Hashem in return specifically to fulfill the mitzvah of ma'aser?

The Ramban answers the first question by invoking the principle of "shema yigrom ha'cheit." Ya'akov could not trust in Hashem's promise because he thought perhaps he would prove unworthy. It seems that the neder was not needed to ellicit something from Hashem, but rather for Ya'akov's own psyche, to motivate him to remain steadfast and earn the promise (akin to a nidrei zerizus - Nedarim 7).

R' Simcha Bunim m'Peshischa offers a different answer. There are many ways in which Hashem's promise could be fulfilled. Most of us at least pay lip service to the idea that our earnings come from Hashem. But realistically speaking, we know that without going to work we will not have much in our checking account. Realistically speaking, without a job to give us a sense of security, many of us feel challenged to maintain our bitachon. We acknowledge that our income comes from Hashem, but we much prefer to have him hiding in the wings while we pretend that we are in control and go about our business.

Ya'akov davened for exactly the reverse. Ya'akov knew that Hashem could bestow his blessing in such a way that it would appear that his wealth could accumulate because of his great business acumen, his children would grow up OK because he was a great parent, etc. That type of bracha may make a person feel good, but makes it that much harder to focus on Hashem as the one true source of blessing. Ya'akov did not want that. He wanted Hashem to be present center-stage, evident as his benefactor and source of strength.

I think with this approach we can answer the second question as well. The mitzvah of tzedaka and ma'aser has a unique feature not found in other mitzvos. Normally it is prohibited to test Hashem. However, with respect to these mitzvos Hashem says, "Bechanuni na b'zos." "Test me," says Hashem -- Give tzedaka and ma'aser on condition that I bestow wealth on you and see if it does not happen. I think the reason testing Hashem is permissable here is because it follows midah k'neged midah from the nature of the mitzvah. A miser can horde his riches and refuse to share with others, and in truth, why shouldn't he/she? If riches are the result of personal achievement and labor, why share with others who have not expended the same energy and effort or achieved similar results? But we reject this view. It is not personal achievement or effort alone which are the cause of riches, but Hashem's blessing. By giving money to tzedaka, by seperating ma'aser, we acknowledge that Hashem is the cause behind all achievement and it is not our efforts alone. We call Hashem from the wings and place Him center stage. Midah k'neged midah: If you keep Hashem offstage and think everything is the product of your own efforts, then Hashem responds accordingly and keeps in the background. But if you are willing to put aside your own achievements and acknowledge that Hashem is the one true source of blessing, if you give tzedaka and ma'aser because all the money you earn is a gift from Hashem, then Hashem in turn promises that if he is center stage and running the show then more goodness and blessing will follow.

Ya'akov wished for Hashem's blessing to be come in a way that would be clearly evident as coming from Hashem alone rather than through his own personal effort. Therefore, Ya'akov in turn promised "aser a'asrenu lach", to take ma'aser, to perform the mitzvah which is our way of acknowledging that it's not our efforts, but rather it is Hashem's blessing, which is the source of all we have.

picking and choosing among meforshim

Well, since I commented on it last week, I want to follow up. After noting the harsh responses his article drew last week, Rabbi Avi Billet, writing in The Jewish Star, continues on much the same theme this week ("I've been inspired to find more valid interpretations that go against the grain..."), selecting a pshat from Da'as Zekeinim which explains the phrase "einei Le'ah rakos" in a way that is different and in Rabbi Billet's opinion more palatable than the explanation offered by Rashi.

I am not sure what point of these articles is. Anyone who has ever opened a Mikra'os Gedolos is aware that there are multiple interpretations to pesukim. Some of these interpretations appeal to our rational nature, other interpretations sacrifice the rationalist viewpoint in favor of other considerations, whether it be closer fidelity to the text or a willingness to consider the text in an allegorical, an ethical, a mystical, or some other light.

A person is certainly free to decide that he/she is a rationalist and pick and choose among meforshim to find those interpretations that will allow for a reading of chumash conistant with his/her worldview.

However, I would argue that a person who reads chumash (or any Torah text) this way is missing something of the breadth and depth of Torah learning. Torah study, as all disciplines, demands that we open our minds to consider problems from many different angles and viewpoints. More important than choosing the view which appeals to us is trying to understand the reasoning behind the views which don't, because it is these other views which will force our mind open to considering Torah in a new light that we perhaps were never attuned to. Ideally, our reading should not consist of finding or choosing one correct or appealing view among many, but of appreciating what is correct and appealing in each of many interpretations. At the end of the day one interpretation among many may resonate with us, but that does not mean we should be blind to the beauty of all others.

Noting that the reading of Tosfos makes more sense than others makes for half and article or half a shiur. The missing half is arriving at an understanding of the other views, which undoubtedly (especially given that they have survived centuries of study by minds greater than ours) have something of value to teach us.

And if we fail to arrive at that appreciation, certainly the fault does not rest on those meforshim for not living up to our expectations, but rests with us for failing in our quest for understanding. At the very least, study in this way is a lesson in humility.

Divrei Torah: Parshas VaYeitzei

For some reason not much grabbed me this week, but some divrei torah (2 page .pdf) can be found here.

pilpul on toothpaste

After brushing his teeth my son came to me last night and said he has a kashe on the toothpaste box. The box says "great regular flavor" but also says "great mint taste." A stirah -- is it the "regular flavor" or is it "mint taste"?

It must be, continued my son, that the "regular flavor" is "mint taste" and there is no stira. But if so, he reasoned, why would they put down both "mint taste" and "regular flavor" on the box? If the two are the same, writing both would be redundant. Elah, they are not the same -- but if so, hadra kushya l'duchta!

My wife resolved his dilemma by suggesting that the box prints "regular flavor" for those who have used this brand before and expect the flavor they have grown accustomed to. The box lists "great mint taste" for those who have never used the product and are not familiar with what its "regular flavor" is.

Just curious -- do other people just brush their teeth and go to sleep without a pilpul shiur on the toothpaste, or is this normal in other households as well? : )

pikuach nefesh when lost in the desert (IV)

We ended off the discussion of Shabbos when lost in the desert with a question on the Rambam. The Rambam states (Ma'achalos Assuros 14:13) that there is no issur of ma'achalos assuros for someone lost in the desert. The Rambam does not refer to a starving person who is about to perish, but simply to someone lost -- the implication is that even a full k'zayis of treif food may be eaten by the lost traveller even before reaching the verge of death. However, the gemara (and the Rambam) allow for work on Shabbos to be done by someone lost in the desert only for the sake of pikuach nefesh and only as necessary. What is the difference between these two cases?

The Rogatchover explains that Rambam reflects a fundemental difference between time and other objects (and this brings us back to the distinction in the previous post between bitul of objects and bitul in time.) Being lost in the desert allows for a suspension of the laws of ma'achalos assuros so that a person can travel as fast as possible. Foods which would otherwise be prohibited are now classified as permissable -- the situation has transformed the cheftza into a different object from its original state. In other words, that piece of chazir is not trief food that you are allowed to eat because of dire straits, but rather the chazir is no longer treif! Therefore, there is no need to eat less than a k'zayis or avoid eating in until on the verge of death.

The same reasoning cannot be applied to Shabbos. Food is an object present in its totality and can be transformed from issur to heter, but time does not exist yet until each second happens. Time is not a cheftza which we can make permissable. All we can do is make an allowance for the person, the gavra, to perform work as each second occurs. In doing so, we must view each second individually (which brings us back to the point in post 1 and post 2 of this series) and rely on the need of the individual to cause the dispensation to occur.

Chabad and Mumbai

I usually don't post on stuff like this not because I don't find the story tragic and worthy of reflection, but simply because there is already so much to read about it elsewhere that there is little I can add that has not been said. One article in particular that I think deserves your attention is this one entitiled, "In the Wake of Mumbai: An Agnostic Jew Considers Chabad", written by Roger Simon. Read the whole thing if you can.

Chabadniks really are religious Jews in the best sense. Whether we admit it or not, Reform Jews from my background are hardly religious at all. It’s more of a social club. There’s nothing wrong in that, of course, as long as you are honest about it....

Which leads me to the topic of the hour – Mumbai. It’s clear the young Lubavitcher couple murdered by the terrorists, Rabbi Gavriel Holzberg and his wife Rivka, were the finest of human beings. They were dedicated to promoting goodness in the world in the deepest spiritual sense. They wished only the best for all humanity and also did their best to encourage it, in fact gave their lives for it. You don’t have to believe in G-d or even God to understand that. Their horrifying deaths reminded this agnostic that there is indeed something called evil in the world.

shabbos when lost in the desert (III) - -bitul in time

Continued from Part 1 and Part2: We left off last week discussing the halacha of someone lost in the desert who is allowed to work only as needed for pikuach nefesh and must designate one day a week as Shabbos with kiddush and havdalah. The MG"A asks why Shabbos must be observed on any day -- why not say that each day which is possibly Shabbos is bateil to the other six days that are definitely chol, eliminating the safeik. Josh M. commented last week that we cannot say bitul b'rov in this case because it is a case of kavua. In other words, if a city has 9 kosher butcher shops and 1 treif shop and a piece of meat is found on the street, the principle of rov tells us that the meat is kosher. But if I enter a store and remove the meat but am not sure which store I shopped out, the principle of rov does not apply. Because the stores are kavua, fixed entitites that I have intruded upon, the safeik is treated like a 50-50% chance and the meat may not be eaten. Days of the week cannot be pulled out of a hat; time is fixed in place and the person wandering the desert moves from one day to the next, making this similar to the din of kavua.

Although this answer is given by the MG"A, I would suggest another answer. Recall the Mishna Berura's question: why not violate Shabbos on one day to prepare enough food for the entire week and avoid work the other days, statistically minimizing the chance of chilul Shabbos. Last week I suggested that perhaps we do not view time as existing in units of weeks or months, but rather each moment must be viewed independently. One need not take into account future probabilities when determining the degree of chilul Shabbos permitted on any given day. This same reasoning will resolve the MG"A's question as well. The concept of rov applies when a drop of milk falls into a pot of meat, or the treif butcher store is mixed among a group of kosher shops. But time is not a mixture -- the future does not exist until it occurs and the past is gone already. Each moment is an independent unit! Whether or not you accept my answer to the M"B's question, at least with respect to the MG"A the idea that bitul does not apply to time is discussed in the Koveitz He'oros in Yevamos 27:5, so I have a friend for my sevara.

If you've been following this whole discussion, we now come to the icing on the cake. The Rambam writes (Ma'achalos Asuros 14:13) that there is no issur of ma'achalos asuros for someone lost in the desert who only has treif food to eat. Note that the Rambam does not refer to a starving person who is about to perish, but simply to someone lost -- the implication is that even a full k'zayis of treif food may be eaten by the lost traveller even before reaching the verge of death. Why is it that the Rambam and gemara make allowance to desecrate Shabbos only for the sake of preservation of life, yet the prohibition of eating treif food is suspended immediatly and apparently without any restriction once the person finds himself lost?

indelible impressions

I am not a big fan of Slabodka style mussar, but if you go for that sort of stuff: Rashi explains that Yitzchak's eyesight became poor in his old age (27:1) due to his exposure to the irritating fumes of burning incense offered by Eisav's wives to worship their avodah zarah (parenthetically: this suggests that avodah zarah was taking place right under Yitzchak's nose -- did this not reflect on Eisav and warrant a reaction of some sort?) But why did these fumes only affect Yitzchak's eyesight? Would they not also have affected Rivka's eyesight as well? The Sifsei Chachamim answers (citing Maharashal) that Rivka was less sensitive to the fumes and smoke because she grew up in a house where she had been exposed to avodah zarah and was used to its affects.

Let's put this in context (my wife gets credit for this observation): Rashi tells us that Yitzchak was 123 when he decided to bless Eisav. Recall that according to Rashi (25:20) Yitzchak was 37 years older than Rivka, meaning Rivka would have been 86 years old. Furthermore, according to Rashi Yitzchak married Rivka when she was just three years old. So here we have an elderly Rivka, a woman who has spent the past 83 (!) years wed to a tzadik like Yitzchak, a woman who abandonded her own home with its idolatry at the tender age of only three, a woman who was observed by Yitchak to have the same midos and purity as his mother Sarah before marriage. Yet because she "grew up" more than 83 years ago in a house where avodah zarah was worshipped, she had a lesser sensitivity to avodah zarah than Yitzchak! How could that be?

The Slabodka mussar ending: we see from here how deep and indelibe every impression is, how what we expose even a little child to can leave a mark that years of tzidkus and taharah cannot completely undo. Etc. etc. (Sorry, I have no aspirations to be a mashgiach. My son has asked me why in yeshiva he has to give up time from learning to listen to the mashgiach's shmooz -- I told him he should ask his rebbe.)

Divrei Torah: Parshas Toldos

Divrei Torah for this week posted for download here (I try to keep these to 2 pages) -- feedback welcome.

Some thoughts from my wife on the relationship between Yitzchak-Rivka vs. Avraha-Sarah here.

For those of you too lazy to click the link and download, one idea that I liked: Rivka tells Ya'akov that she overhead Yitzchak saying to Eisav that he wished to bless him "lifnei Hashem lifnei mosi" -- "before Hashem and before I die." (27:6-7) Rashi explains lifnei Hashem to mean that Hashem should agree to the blessing.

Yet we look back at the actual words Yitzchak said to Eisav, it seems Rivka is misquoting. Yitzchak told Eisav he wished to bless him, "b'terem amus" -- "before death", but Yitzchak made no mention of "lifnei Hashem". Why did Rivka add these words?

The Koznitzer Maggid explains that the remez to Hashem was couched in the words of Yitchak, "v'tzudah li tzayid." Yitchak could have simply said one word, "v'tzad." The word "v'tzudah" is the same as "v'tzad" except it contains the additional letters of vav and hey. The extra word "tzayid" is strangely spelled here with an additonal hey, which means it contains the letters yud and hey in addition to the letters of "tzad." Add it all together and you have the full yud-key-vuv-key name of Hashem.

If you stop there all you have is a cutesy vort, which is probably not a good enough reason to read this post. The follow up question (asked by the Medrash Moshe, R' Moshe Mordechai Morgenstern) is the crucial point: so why is it that Rivka spelled out "lifnei Hashem" when she spoke to Ya'akov, but Yitzchak just hinted to it using this remez?

I think the answer (the M.M. gives a different one) is that Yitzchak was hinting to the nature of the brachos and why he was about to give them to Eisav. You can easily find G-d in the Heavens and in the Beis Medrash; the trick is to find G-d everywhere else. Yitzchak was hinting to Eisav that because he was a "man of the field" he had the potential to fulfill that mission. G-d is not just in the tent of Shem v'Eiver, but is also found in the tzayid as well if you are a good enough hunter and know where to look.

Rivka agreed in principle with this message but thought it could be carried out another way. Instead of taking the "man of the field" and trying to inspire him to find G-d, Rivka thought the future of the Jewish people would be more secure in the hands of a man of G-d charged with the mission of taking that message out to the field.

shabbos when lost in the desert (II)

Had you asked me the question posed by the Biur Halacha quoted in the previous post, I would have given a simple answer (or to be more accurate, denied the premis of the question). True, if you do the melacha of an entire week in one day you reduce the odds of chilul Shabbos from 7/7 to 1/7, but that tactic assumes that chilul Shabbos is calculated based on the overall weekly (monthly? yearly?) basis. Who says that is the case? Perhaps each day must be looked at individually. The fact that chilul Shabbos can be avoided in future days based on actions taken today is irrelevant and need not be taken into consideration, especially given that the additional action done today is itself further chilul Shabbos. I can even imagine practical ramifications to this question. If someone is sick and must be mechalel Shabbos one week, may one engage in greater chilul Shabbos if it would potentially speed up recovery and eliminate the need for chilul Shabbos next week, or should one observe as much of Shabbos as possible and worry about next week when it comes? I am not really sure of the answer and don't see why the former position is unquestionably right. Happily for me I received an e-mail from someone in response to the previous post that offered a sevara along the same lines as my own, so apparently my knee-jerk reaction to the question is shared by others.


The Biur Halacha does not offer this answer but does present an elegant bit of lomdus. On any given day, the only work that is permissable is work necessary to remain alive -- pikuach nefesh. We asked: why be mechalel Shabbos every day when one can do all work needed one day a week? The answer is that one is not in fact mechalel Shabbos every day! Since Shabbos may be violated for the sake of pikuach nefesh, the work done is not chilul Shabbos. Only doing more work than necessary for pikuach nefesh would be chilul Shabbos, and therefore no preparations for future days may be made.


I certainly take nothing away from the M"B's answer, but am curious as to whether my sevara is off base and if it is, why. The next question I think will get us closer to a better understanding. The assumption behind the halacha is that each day has an equal chance as any other of being the real Shabbos and based on this uncertainty we must adopt a strict position and treat every day as the potential real Shabbos. But, asks the Magen Avraham, why should this be so? We know that in halacha there is a principle of bitul b'rov, i.e. a minority can be ignored in favor of a majority. If there are 9 stores selling kosher meat and 1 store selling treif meat, a piece of meat found on the street may be assumed kosher given the 9/10 probability that this is correct. Here too, given that 6/7 of every week must be days of chol and not Shabbos, why not say that any given day is chol based on the principle of rov? To be continued, bl"n.

shabbos when lost in the desert or outer space

Rav Huna and Rav Chisda disagree as to whether a person lost in the desert with no idea when Shabbos is, no sense of time, should observe one day as Shabbos and then treat the six following days as chol or keep six days as chol followed by one day of Shabbos (Shabbos 69b). We pasken like Rav Huna that six days of chol are counted followed by Shabbos. However, all this means is that kiddush and havdalah are recited on the day arbitrarily designated as Shabbos. Melacha necessary to remain alive is permitted on every day, including that Shabbos day --one cannot prepare on one day for the next and then take a day off. Rava explains why. Each day has exactly the same liklihood as any other of being the real Shabbos. Since one cannot prepare on Shabbos for chol, one cannot do melacha on any day in preparation for the next given the 1/7 chance that one might be doing extra work on the real Shabbos in preparation for chol.

There are a number of interesting issues the Achronim discuss regarding this din. The Mishna Berura (Biur Halacha, 344) points out that were the person trapped in the desert to do whatever melacha needed for the entire upcoming week on only one day, the odds of that day being Shabbos, the odds of the person being mechalel Shabbos, are only 1/7. By not allowing the person to prepare from one day to the next and having the person do melacha on every single day (as needed), the odds of chilul Shabbos are now 7/7, or 100%! Why is this outcome prefarable to the first?!

This is just to get the brain warmed up - more to come bl"n.

"the field, the cave, and the trees" (23:17) - why the stress on trees?

Why does the Torah go out of its way to tell us specifically that "all the trees in the field" (23:17) as well as the field and the Me'aras haMachpeila transferred to Avraham's possession?

In the parsha sheet I mentioned a Parashas Derachim which resolves an apparent contradiction in Rashi. Commenting on "ger v'toshav", Rashi writes that Avraham told the Bnei Cheis that if they refuse to sell him land he will claim a pre-existing right of ownership (i.e. he is already a toshav) as Hashem had promised all of Canaan to him. Yet, in Parhas Lech Lecha, when the shepherds of Lot claimed the right to graze in other people's pastures based on Hashem's promise of Canaan to Avraham, Rashi explains that their claim has no merit because Avraham did not yet have possession of the Land. What's the difference between Avraham's claim to being a toshav and the shepherd's claim of grazing rights?

The Parashas Derachim answers that property rights consist of 1) rights to the guf hakarka, the actual land; 2) right to peiros, use of the land for farming, grazing, etc. Hashem's promise to Avraham gave him immediate ownership of the guf hakarka, but the right to use the land was retained by its inhabitants until Yehoshua's conquest. The shepherds of Lot were stealing the peiros of the land, and these did not yet belong to Avraham. Avraham needed a burial plot which utilized only the guf hakarka, and that he already owned.

Had Avraham taken property based on his right of being a toshav, the land alone would have been his. Now that Avraham bought property, he gained the rights to peiros in addition to the property itself. Perhaps the Torah stresses specifically the trees to highlight this difference and emphasize the acquisition of peiros in addition to the property.

Who cares how old Rivka was? - reading Rashi within his own paradigm

When my wife brought home the Jewish Star from the supermarket, the title of Rabbi Billet's article caught my eye and I was tempted to write something. In a nutshell, Rabbi Billet poses the obvious problems with Rashi's suggestion that Rivka was no more than three years old at the time of her marriage and rather than resolve them, he instead introduces alternate interpretations that allow for her being older. This has generated some debate in the blogopshere in many places (VIN seems to be racking up comments at a furious pace) with some people trotting out the usual accusations of apikorsus and what not.

The situation really amounts to a Catch-22 - m'mah nafshach: either you present Rivka as older in order to make the story in Chumash more believeable and sacrifice Rashi, or you salvage Rashi as the "ruach hakodesh" based truth and chalk up all difficulties to our mental frailty at the expense of having a story in Chumash sound that much more unbelievable. The sad thing is that both sides of the debate in blogger-land are too entrenched to see the drawbacks of their own position and the merits of the other side.

What struck me when I read Rabbi Billet's piece is how unsatisfied it left me. Rashi is difficult -- let's make no bones about it. Yes, there are other interpretations -- but how does that help with Rashi? Just adopting those other views doesn't absolve us of our talmud Torah obligation to understand to the best of our ability a Rashi. Isn't that the process of learning which we follow in so many other areas? Tosfos asks a question on Rashi, the Ra'avad challenges the Rambam -- do we stop there any say Rashi is difficult or the Rambam is hard to understand and just accept the other position as correct? Of course not! We say "eilu v'eilu" and try our best to come up with an approach that shows the logical possibility of either position being valid. The same applies here.

The truth is that if one reads the parsha without meforshim, I doubt the issue of Rivka's age would come up. How old was Avraham and Sarah when they married? I don't know, and excuse me for not caring. It would make little difference to my understanding of Chumash. The only reason Rashi introduces a discussion of Rivka's age is to resolve a problem that should bother us. Yitzchak is 40 years old at marriage (25:20), it is only when he reaches 60 years old that Ya'akov and Eisav are born (25:26). Why was there a 20 year delay? The Torah tells us that Rivka had a problem conceiving until Yitzchak prayed on her behalf, but that only begs the question of why he waited 20 years to do so and took no other action like marrying a maidservant as Avraham had done. Rashi suggests that the 20 year delay was a result of Yitzchak waiting 10 years for Rivka to reach puberty and another 10 years before becoming convinced that she would remain sterile if not for miraculous intervention.

Appreciating the context in which Rashi presents these facts is the key to unlocking Rashi's meaning. And given the context, Rashi cannot be "fixed" by reinterpreting Rivka's age on some figurative level - sorry. But another approach is possible, and it is one which I have touched on here before and I suggest it again with some trepidation. Rashi viewed Torah as a closed system, like mathematical system that contains its own axioms and laws of logic. As an analogy, think of Euclid's geometry. Whether or not a perfect plane or triangle exists in reality or the world conforms to Euclid's equations is irrelevant to using the axioms and postulates to derive proofs within the paradigm of the system itself. When quantum theory was first proposed (and I am no expert on this), I don't think Einstein took issue with the mathematics so much as with the idea that these equations represented something real about the way the universe worked. Or to use another analogy, the world of Rashi is like the world of logical positivism in which questions of theology and metaphysics are meaningless because they cannot be evaluated. It's not that there are no answers - it's that since there are no answers these cannot be kashes in the first place. So getting back to the point, Rashi faced one and only one problem -- how to deal with the textual gap of 20 years in Yitzchak's age. He solved that problem by introducing a three year old Rivka. Kashes like how a three year old could consent to marriage or lift a jug of water are like saying the perfect triangle that you created does not exist anywhere in nature -- so what? Rashi is looking only at the text as a closed unit and solving its internal difficulties. End of the story. You may not like Rashi's metholdogy, you may think it creates as many problems in this case as it solves (as the other Rishonim all argue!), but if you take it on its own terms, in its own paradigm (think of Thomas Kuhn), I think you can appreciate what Rashi is doing. The key is accepting the paradigm for what it is and thinking only within its boundaries.

I think this is a yesod in reading Rashis (and other meforshim) that one would sometimes otherwise be forced to simply reject as rationally untenable. The list of difficulties does not stop with the issue of Rivka being three. I doubt one will have success taking each difficulty on a case by case basis and working out a figurative reading or interpretation of Rashi. But neither do I think simply rejecting these difficult Rashis that the student of Chumash is bound to encounter will leave one with a healthy attitude of respect for gedolei haRishonim. What do you think?

Divrei Torah: Parshas Chayei Sarah

In the course of around 2 years of blogging I have never been interested in producing yet-another-sheet-of-vortlach on a weekly basis. I'm still not interested in doing quite that, but I have some extra time on my hands and figure maybe a weekly parsha sheet is not a bad idea. Parshas hashavua is "davar ha'shaveh l'chol nefesh" -- it is something that a great many people can connect to, which is not always true of more "lomdish" topics. I can't promise I can do better than anyone else (especially given the nice comments here by Anonymous and others), but an extra helping of divrei torah on the 'net never hurt and maybe some more people will enjoy reading.

I was thinking about how to do this to avoid a too long blog post and decided create a .pdf that you can download/print and posted it over at Lulu as a free e-book. Here's the link. If someone has a better idea, please let me know. Feel free to share the divrei Torah with others.

Avraham and Sarah's model of shalom bayis

"Kol asher tomar eilecha Sarah, shema b'kolah" - "Avraham, whatever Sarah tells you, listen to her voice." Anyone who is married can probably attest to the fact that this command was probably was as difficult a test as any of the others Avraham faced : ) But in seriousness, the pasuk is actually a key to marital harmony. The Radomsker explains, "Shema b'kolah" may be read derech derush to refer to "Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad", the ideal of mesirus nefesh, which Sarah personified in everything she said and did. Sarah's only concern was the welfare of others, not her own ego. Imagine if every time your spouse spoke to you the words you heard were, "Shema Yisrael...", i.e. I am only saying this l'shem shamayim for our improvement. How could you not listen?

On the same topic of shalom bayis, it is noteworthy that when the three people/angels come to Avraham's house, they make a point of asking where Sarah is. Rashi comments that this was done "l'chabivah al ba'alah", to make Avraham cherish Sarah, as he would be reminded of her tzniyus. R' Chaim Shmuelevitz points out that Avraham and Sarahat ages 99 and 90 respectively must have been married a good many years before this moment. Yet, even after so many years of marriage, there was still room for Avraham to appreciate his wife even more!

My wife added that perhaps davka because Avraham and Sarah had been together for so long this reminder was necessary. When a couple is young, every experience they share together is new and precious. The first time taking out the garbage, doing the dishes, cleaning for Shabbos - isn't it great to be married and in your own house! But after 80 years of taking out the garbage, doing the dishes, helping clean for Shabbos - the bloom has long since faded from the rose. But even after 80 and 90 years, a "l'chabiva al ba'alah" is still possible.

two great dangers in avodah to beware of

The Tiferes Shlomo offers a beautiful interpretation of the gemara in Brachos, "afilu nachash karuch al akeivo, afilu melech shoel b'shlomo lo yafsik", that even if a snake wraps itself around one's foot, even if a king begins a conversation, one should not interrupt tefilah. There are two great challenges in avodas Hashem which the gemara is warning us of. The first great challenge occurs when one wakes up from the slumber of sin and suddenly realizes how far away one is from Hashem. There is a great temptation to surrender to despair and hopelessness. This feeling of despair is symbolized by the snake which wraps itself around a person's ankles trying to drag him/her down. The opportunity for tefilah is the antidote to the depression of the snake. Even if one has succumbed to sin, there always exists the opportunity of return.

At the opposite extreme is the person who feels so immersed in "spirituality" that he/she loses sight of the restrictions and restraints of halacha and considers attending to these details beneath his/her stature. This is the danger of hubris. Even if one is "speaking to the King", one is still not excused from tefillah. This ideal is demonstrated in our parsha by Avraham's willingness to leave communion with G-d to fulfill the mitzvah of hachnasat orchim -- an abstract spirituality cannot replace the concrete performance of mitzvos. "V'hu yoshev pesach ha'ohel" - Avraham managed to keep the proper perspective because rather than look at all he had achieved, he viewed himself as still sitting at threshold, looking at the door of opportunity for further growth in mitzvos that lay open ahead.

Sarah's laughter

I was wondering why Hashem asks Avraham about Sarah's laughing at the promise of a child instead of addressing Sarah directly. Is a husband accountable for his wife's behavior? Just this morning I came across a fascinating Yerushalmi that answers the question (but I don't pretend to fully understand what it is saying). The Yerushalmi (Sotah 29a in Vilna ed) declares that Sarah was the only female in Tanach addressed directly by G-d. Immediatly the Y-lmi asks about all the contrary examples that may be running through your mind, e.g. Hashem speaks to Chavah, to Rivka, etc. In each case the Y-lmi answers that the communication was through an intermediary, even if unstated. So if Sarah was unique in that Hashem spoke with her directly, why did Hashem not simply ask her why she laughed? Why did he address the question to Avraham? The Yerushalmi answers (see Pnei Moshe) that Hashem acted this way not to avoid addressing Sarah, but davka because Hashem desires to hear "sichasan shel tzidkaniyos", because Hashem wanted to hear Sarah's voice! Had Hashem accosted her directly, Sarah would undoubtedly have not said anything in response -- she would have been filled with remorse and accepted Hashem's declaration of her guilt. But because Hashem communicated his question through Avraham, Sarah denied her laughter.

Of course, this just begs the question -- if Sarah really did laugh, why would she deny it to Avraham? And if she didn't laugh, or felt she didn't laugh, what would she have made of such an accusation coming from G-d?

“it’s run by a bunch of Jewish ladies”

The following quote is tucked away in an article in today's NY Times on the Jehrico, Long Island school district - "One Chinese mother said friends told her not to bother with the P.T.A. because “it’s run by a bunch of Jewish ladies.”"

Can you imagine a parent in America today openly saying to a reporter that they don't participate in PTA because it is run by a bunch of blacks? Or some other race/nationality? And that comment being printed in the NY Times not as a shocker, but as a reasonable explanation for the parent's behavior? Unheard of. But, as we all know, Jews are different.

This is Jehrico, LI, NY - not the back woods of Appalachia or a remote township down South.

Rashi/Ramban on Avraham's journey to Egypt

Rashi and the Ramban offer two different views regarding Avraham's decision to flee to Egypt in response to the famine in Eretz Yisrael. According to Rashi, travel to Egypt was the correct decision given the lack of food in Eretz Yisrael. The situation was a test of Avraham's faith. Would Avraham question G-d or remain true in his committment after following G-d's command only seemed to bring hardship? Ramban disagrees and writes that given G-d's promise and command to go to Eretz Yisrael, Avraham had no right to leave the land. This was an error in judgment on Avraham's part because of which his descendents would be exiled to Egypt.

In discussing this on Shabbos, the popular understanding of the debate seemed to be whether we look at G-d's command to go to Israel through the paragmatic lens that allows for a waiver in times of famine, or through a lens of idealism that demans committment at all costs. The Ramban's opinion appears to be consistant with his views regarding medical care -- were a person a great enough tzadik, there would be no need for doctors, as faith alone is a cure for illness. The Rambam famously disagreed, as pursuing medical treatment is as much a part of normal conduct as eating, drinking and sleeping and does not betray a lack of faith. In fact, as Rabbi Friedman, R"Y of Mesivta Rambam noted, according to Rashi this itself may have been part of the test -- would Avraham use his intelligence to act rationally in spite of G-d's command, or slavishly remain in Israel even at the cost of starvation.

Rav Dessler writes that the views of the Rambam and Ramban both contain elements of truth, as the appropriate response may be relative to the religious level of the person. For a great tzadik who transcends the mundane, perhaps faith alone is sufficient to cure illness. For the rest of us who do feel the pull of physical needs, the Rambam's philosophical stance rings true. I saw R' Ya'akov Kaminestzky quoted as applying this same analysis to explain the difference of opinion between Rashi and Ramban. Was Avraham at this point in time at a relatively early stage in his religious growth where a rationalist/pragamatic approach would be appropriate, or was Avraham already a tzadik of such a caliber that a he should have transcended such considerations and remained in Eretz Yisrael at all costs?

I would like so suggest a Brisker approach to explain these views. Avraham was commanded in the ma'aseh mitzvah of going to Eretz Yisrael. But what kiyum mitzvah was that action designed to fulfill -- the kiyum mitvzah of yishuv ha'aretz, or the kiyum mitzvah of bitachon? Perhaps Rashi agrees with the philosophical stance of the Ramban. But here, Rashi would argue, we are dealing with a simple kiyum mitzvah of yishuv ha'aretz that does not demand staying in the land at the cost of starvation. Ramban, however, understood that the command to travel to Eretz Yisrael was not just to fulfill the mitzvah of settling the land, but was to actively demonstrate Avraham's faith in G-d. Given the need to demonstrate a kiyum mitzvah of bitachon, it behooved Avraham to remain in Eretz Yisrael no matter what the circumstances.

ayin hara

If you think Sarah Imeynu pulled out a voodoo doll of Hagar and began sticking pins in it after reading last week's parsha, you may want to read my wife's post here.

chatzi shiur for a ben Noach

Having touched last week on the issue of whether the shiur gadlus applies (12/13 to count as an adult) applies to a ben Noach, let me add the following: The Rambam (Hil Melachim 9:10) writes clearly that shiurim were only given to Bnei Yisrael and are not applicable to bnei Noach; therefore, a ben Noach is chayav for eating the smallest piece of eiver min hachai. Tosfos (Chulin 33) seems to disagree, as Tosfos writes that a b"n is chayav on a small piece of meat combined with bone and sinews (gid v'etzem). The implication is that one is not chayav for a small piece of meat alone, but only for a k'zayis -- however, that shiur k'zayis of eiver min hachai may be met by eating a combination of meat, bone, and sinew and need not consist of meat alone.

The Pri Megadim (Y.D. 62) suggests that the machlokes may depend on the definition of the concept of "achila". According to Tosfos, achila by definition means consuming a k'zayis. It is only the halacha l'Moshe m'Sinai or derasha of chatzi shiur which creates a new prohibition for eating less, but that does not apply to a ben Noach. According to the Rambam, achila by definition means consuming any amount. The din of chatzi shiur serves as an exemption for eating less than a k'zayis, but that exemption does not apply to the ben Noach.

(My son pointed out to me that the Sefer Tiferes Yosef quotes a few places that R' Yosef Engel discusses this same issue, e.g. Gilyonei haSha"s Yoma 74, Beis haOtzar 198 and a few other places.)

the conflict between Avraham and Lot (part 2)

Continuing from yesterday's post, we saw that the story of the conflict between Avra[ha]m and Lot is introduced by or is presented as a direct continuation of the seemingly unrelated episode of Avra[ha]m's banishment from Egypt. In closing that episode the Torah describes Avra[ha]m's expulsion (12:20), and then devotes another pasuk (with minor changes) to describe Avra[ha]m's leaving (13:1), a seeming redundancy. We saw that the conflict between Avra[ha]m and Lot was NOT an inevitable result of their newly found wealth, as the two nation-tribes of Kena'ani and Prizi lived in harmony and shared the same pasture land. So what exactly was boiling beneath the surface that brought Avra[ha]m into conflict with Lot?

Once again, we find the Tiferes Shlomo uses one of the fundememtal ideas of chassidus as a tool to explicate the parsha. As we learned last week, the secular world views reality as a physical space "out there" that we create an approximate map of using words and ideas. The Besh"t flipped this model on its head. Reality is words and ideas, in particular, G-d's words, or G-d's will, without which nothing would exist. The physical world "out there" is just one possible approximate representation of G-d's will as we perceive it in our human body using physical senses. The words or will of G-d, however, transcend what we apprehend with out physical bodies alone. Think of a blind man feeling his way around an elephant and describing it compared with the way a sighted person would describe it -- it's the same elephant, but the two completely ways of apprehending it. Which description is right? The answer is that both are right -- they are just two different ways of looking at the world.

Everything we encounter offers us this choice of how to look at it. Do we look at it as a physical thing that exists for physical use, or do we look at it as existing because of G-d's will and to be used for G-d's will? Looking at the world with the correct vision leads to "ha'ala'as hanitzotzos", elevating the sparks, meaning, recognizing that every element in reality is a spark of G-dliness, not just a set of molecules and atoms. R' Dessler (Michtav m'Eliyahu III:230) quotes the Ba'al haMaor's comment in Perek Kirah that someone who eats cholent on Shabbos is defined as a ma'amin, no small praise! But, asks R' Dessler, did not R' Yisrael Salanter teach that a person can take Shabbos and reduce it to no more than a plate of tzimmis, no more than a pot of food? Is Shabbos the day to recharge your batteries so that you have energy for the other 6 days of work, or do you work 6 days so that you have the food and means to enjoy Shabbos? R' Dessler explains that everything depends on perspective. The pot of cholent can either be a purely physical indulgence, reducing Shabbos to a good meal, or that good meal can itself become part of the spiritual delight of Shabbos - ha'ala'as hanitzotzos in action.

Avra[ha]m and Lot travel down to the immoral depths of Egypt, and each emerges with a different perspective. Egypt expels them (12:20), but that is not the end of the story. "Va'yal Avram m'Mitzrayim..." (13:1) -- Avra[ha]m went up and took up [spirituality] from Egypt, he took the nitzotzos with him, he found G-d even where he appeared absent. Yet Lot did not react the same way. Lot continued on "HaNegba". The words negev means dried out. Lot lost whatever vitality he had for ruchniyus when faced with challenge. These two pesukim are not redundant. One describes the physical expulsion from the Egypt (12:20), one describes the spritual ascent from Egypt by Avra[ha]m, and Lot's dissimilar reaction.

We now can understand why this description serves both as closure for the story of Avra[ha]m's stay in Egypt as well as the backdrop to the conflict between Avra[ha]m and Lot. It was not the physical baggage of Egypt, the flocks and herds, which precipitated their dispute, but rather it was the differing spiritual perspectives that were brought into sharp focus as a result of their journey to Egypt. Avra[ha]m was forced to offer Lot a choice. Rather than remains with his cousin, Lot continued his descent into Sdom, while Avra[ha]m continued in the elevation of the sparks of G-d that he found all around him.

R' Dessler writes (Michtav m'Eliyahu II:212) that while we might intellectually understand this avodah of ha'ala'as nitzotzos, we would be gravely mistaken to think it is practically achievable for any one of us. Temptation exists and tries to pull us away from G-d, and trying to turn desire to a holy endeavor only creates a charade of religion around self-indulgance. But I think there is still value to thinking about unreachable ideal (why else would seforim reveal these concepts to us?). We each face our Mitzrayims. Our emotions may react like Lot, but perhaps a few moments reflection may bring at least intellectual relief, knowing that Divine purpose is behind everything that occurs and exists.

sefer recommendation - Tiferes Yosef

My son is a big R' Yosef Engel fan so we bought him the sefer Tiferes Yosef, a collection of R' Yosef Engel's chiddushim organized by topics relating to the parshiyos. As far as I know there is a single volume on Braishis out and vol 1 on Shmos (which coveres half the sefer). Whether you like R' Yosef Engel in particular or lomdus in general, these seforim will make your oneg Shabbos on a ruhcniyus level that much more enjoyable. The biography in the back of vol 1 is also fascinating. I wish I had time to write over some of the pieces, but instead of waiting for me and missing out, look for a copy in your local seforim store. (The problem in my house is we only have 1 copy and I have to sneak it away from my son to look at : )

the conflict between Avraham and Lot (part 1)

This week I wanted to take a closer look at the rift between Avrah[ha]m and Lot and the lessons we can draw from it. At the beginning of chapter 13, which is the chapter which tells us of Avra[ha]m's dispute with Lot and Lot's departure, the Torah tells us, "VaYa'al Avram m'Mitzrayim hu v'ishto 'chol asher lo v'Lot imo haNegba", Avra[ha]m went up out of Mitzrayim with his wife and all his belongings and Lot with him to the Negev. We can debate just how much significance to place on chapter divisions another time, but I don't think we can overlook the fact the departure from Egypt is presented not in closure to the previous chapter which discussed the conflict with Pharoah, but as a part of the opening to a new chapter, a prelude to the episode with Lot. In fact, looking at the Chumash, it is noteworthy that no new parsha marks a division between the episodes of Mitzrayim and Lot -- one flows right onto the other, with no break. This interweaving of the two stories is the key to unlocking their deeper significance, but before we get there, we need to look more closely at the text.

1) If we look back just one pasuk to end of chapter 12 we read that, "...VaYishalchu oso v'es ishto v'es kol asher lo", Avra[ha]m was evicted from Mitzrayim by Pharoah and sent on his way with his wife and all his belongings. The statement in 13:1 that Avra[ha]m went up out of Egypt with his wife and belongings seems identical to this pasuk. Why the repitition?

Other more subtle difficulties and observations:

2) Notice that the closing pasuk of chapter 12 mentions Avra[ha]m, his wife, and his possessions, but omits any mention of Lot, who only appears in the first pasuk of chapter 13.

3) Notice as well that the ending of chapter 12 does not mention a destination while the first pasuk of chapter 13 does.

4) The first pasuk of chapter 13 tells us of travels to the Negev, but interestingly, instead of saying, "VaYa'al Avram haNegba hu v'ishto...v'Lot imo", which would make clear that it was Avra[ha]m directing the journey and everyone else tagging along, the pasuk places the destination at the end of the clause next to Lot, "...v'Lot imo haNegba", as if the place of Negev is associated specifically with Lot's travels and not with Avraham's journey.

Why was there a dispute between Lot and Avra[ha]m? At first glance, the cause of strife seems obvious. Here we have two large herds of sheep grazing in the same area. Given that the amount of pasture land is limited, it would be natural for disputes to arise as to who found which pasture first and whose sheep get to graze where. If this was the cause of the breakup, it is also clear why conflict broke out only at this point and not earlier in Avra[ha]m's travels with Lot. It was only after Pharoah bestowed wealth and flocks of sheep and herds of cattle on Avra[ha]m that grazing land for such large flocks became an issue. A simple explanation, and a satisfying explanation, but for five little words...

"...v'haKena'ani v'haPrizi az ba'aretz" -- There was a dispute... and the Kana'ani and Prizi nations were then in the land.

What relevance could the tribes which dwelled in the land have to this private family conflict over grazing land between Lot and his cousin Avra[ha]m? Why should the text of the pasuk join these two issues? Beyond the textual question (which perhaps motivated Rashi to offer a different interpretation to the dispute than the simple one suggested above), a practical question begs asking: if two entire nation-tribes could peacefully find room to pasture in the same area, need there have been a conflict between the shepards of Lot and the shepards of Avra[ha]m over grazing area? Was there really such a shortage of land as to make a fight inevitable? (Kli Yakar)

It seems safe to conclude that a land dispute may have served as the superficial trigger, but without other issues brewing beneath the surface, the breakoff between Avra[ha]m and Lot might not have occurred. To discover what those other issues were we need to return to Avra[ha]m's departure from Egypt and the questions we raised earler. Stay tuned... bl"n will finish this up later.

source for the age of bar mitzvah

The Tziyun Yerushalayim to the Yerushalmi Sotah 21 points out that the Rishonim differ as to the source for the shiur gadlus for a boy or girl being age 12 or 13. Rashi (Nazir 29) writes that Levi is called an "ish", a mature adult, when he was 13 years old, as we see in the pasuk describing the battle of Ya'akov's children against Shechem: "Vayikchu shnei Bnei Ya'akov, Shimon v'Levi, ish charbo..." (Braishis 34). The Tshuvos haRosh, however, writes that shiur of gadlus is a halacha l'Moshe m'Sinai without a textual basis.

The T"Y suggests a possible nafka minah between these views could be whether the shiur gadlus is constant or variable. According to Rashi, 12/13 is a constant. According to the Rosh, perhaps in earlier generations in Sefer Braishis where the life cycle was different and the mind matured earlier, the shiur gadlus was younger as well.

I am not sure I fully understand why the T"Y assumes that if the shiur gadlus is a hllm"s, it follows that it is a relative number. I would suggest a different possible nfk"m. Achronim debate whether this shiur of 12/13 applies to bnei noach or only to Bnei Yisrael. Perhaps the answer hinges on this debate between Rashi and the Rosh. If the shiur gadlus is rooted in halacha l'Moshe m'Sinai like the Rosh suggests, hllm"s is binding only on Bnei Yisrael. If the shiur gadlus is derived from the age of Levi like Rashi suggests, then if one assumes the children of Ya'akov did not fully emerge from having the status of bnei noach pre-mattan Torah (as discussed by the Parashas Derachim and others) there is room to suggest that this shiur is universal.

lessons of the raven

My daughter came home last Shabbos with a dvar Torah about the raven sent out by Noach. According to the Midrash, the raven accused Noach of having designs on its mate. Instead of flying off in search of land, the raven hovered around the ark lest Noach try anything. As a result of its refusal to accept the mission of Noach, it was the raven which became destined to be a messenger to Eliyahu in a time of drought.

My wife asked my daughter (who is 13) what she made of this story -- do ravens talk, and can people like Noach really marry birds? My daughter said that in fact someone in her class has asked the teacher these very questions (good for that student!), to which the teacher answered that the animals in those days were different than our animals (bad for that teacher!).

I sympathize with the teacher's motive. How can she preserve the child's emunas chachamim when presenting a story that smacks of the fantastic and unbelievable? It's the approach that is faulty. Instead of trying to convince the child that ravens once did talk (trying to make the fantasy more palatable), the teacher should have used the opportunity to explain that Chazal sometimes teach through allegory and fable (see Rambam in Peirush haMishna beg of Perek Cheilek). Perhaps younger children will accept the image of Noach as Dr. Doolittle (though I can't imagine what they make of the biurd-human relationship part), but at some point children mature enough to realize this is not how the world works. Trying to preserve this image will not just cause a loss of credibility in the teacher, but c"v a loss of credibility in Torah as a sophisticated set of beliefs.

So what are Chazal trying to teach us here? I pulled out a Gur Arye and this is the lesson I drew:

The marriage relationship is sacrosanct. Even in the animal kingdom, there are species that stay with one spouse for an entire lifetime (and, no, I did not check if that applies to ravens). Part of that relationship undoubtedly involves the desire to protect one's partner and not to abandon the nest (in the figurative sense). So we should laud the raven! Instead of flying off into the sunset and abandoning the coup for greener pastures, it hung beside the ark, protective of its spouse.

But we don't laud the raven. There are times when even spouses must go in separate directions. Modern TV brings to our living room the image of soliders leaving home to serve their country in battle, of firemen who rush into burning buildings at great risk to their lives despite having a family at home, etc. We don't view these as breaches of familial duty, but as acts of couage and bravery to serve a greater good. When the services of the raven are needed to benefit the entire ark, hovering close by to look after one's own nest places personal good above the needs to society and is wrong.

Perhaps one can go even a step further. The purpose of marriage ultimately is for the sake of yishuv ha'olam. It is the institution of marriage and family that causes the world to grow in population, causing new regions to be explored, settled, and developed. For an entire year Noach's world consisted of the narrow dimensions of the ark. The key to unlocking that prison was finding land, and the raven was charged with the task. What greater yishuv ha'olam could there be than this mission!? By clinging to its nest the raven revealed that its motivation in staying by its spouse was not for this greater good of yishuv ha'olam, but instead, for its own personal selfish satisfaction. Not only does this trait of selfishness undermine the greater purpose of marriage in society, but it also undermines the very marriage bond itself. If one's concerns cannot rise above the selfish self-serving needs of one's own nest, one cannot begin to properly appreciate and care for the needs of another, even if that other is one's own spouse.

Chazal tell us (Sanhedrin 108) that the raven was one of only three creatures that broke the ban against having marital relations in the ark. The raven indulged in selfish pleasure while ignoring the fact that those around him were suffering and the world itself was being destroyed. In the ultimate ironic twist, who does the raven accuse of selfish motivations, of sending it away only to take its spouse? Noach -- the same Noach who for an entire years gave his every waking moment to selfless dedication to feeding and caring for the entire menagerie on the ark.

The raven's refusal to accept Noach's mission was not a sign of protective love of its mate -- it was a sign of selfishness and self-indulgance when needed by others. The Midrashic story is a lesson in placing the greater good above one's own needs, of selfish love and selfless sacrifice.

some interesting parameters of gezeiros

Among the differences between a kohein and kohenes listed by the Mishna in Sotah is the fact that only a kohein is prohibited from becoming tamei meis but not a kohenes. The Yerushalmi (Sotah 18a in Vilna ed) quotes Rabbi Dosa as saying a chiddush that a kohenes is also not included in the gezeirah not to leave Eretz Yisrael to go to other lands (eretz ha'amim).

The Yerushalmi asks why R' Dosa's chiddush is needed. The whole reason for the gezeirah not to enter eretz ha'amim is because of potential tumas meis. If a kohenes is not prohibited from becoming tamei meis, obviously the gezeirah is moot.

The Yerushalmi answers that one might have thought that since women are generally bound by gezeiros, here too, even though the reason does not apply, one mighty assume the gezeirah is still binding.

Why don't we accept such a sevara? The Yerushalmi answers, "nimtzah matche parshas tumos" -- obligating women to observe the gezeirah would undermine the pasuk's explicit exemption from the laws of tumas meis.

A few thoughts on the give and take of the gemara:

The idea that a gezeirah can be binding even if the underlying reason is inapplicable which the hava amina highlights is found in other areas as well. For example, R' Elchanan Wasserman points out that according to the Ran (Nedarim 52) the reason a davar she'yesh lo matirin is not bateil is because there is insuffcient contrast between the potential-heter item to be bateil and the mixture of real heter which it falls into. However, the application of the din extends beyond the world of ta'aroves to encompass any situation of safeik which will ultimately come to resolve itself (see Beitzah 3).

The conclusion of the Yerushalmi does not (I think) seem to retract this premis, but instead follows a line of reasoning popularly attributed to the Taz (Y.D. 117). The Taz writes that although Chazal have the power to extend prohibitions by creating gezeiros, no gezeirah can encroach on what the Torah itself explicitely permits. For example, Chazal created a gezeirah to prohibit blowing shofar on Shabbos. There is no such similar gezeirah prohibiting milah on Shabbos. Why the difference? Rishonim explain that the Torah explicitely commands that milah be done even on Shabbos; no such explicit command exists with respect to shofar (see Gilyon Maharasha to Y.D. 117 for other examples). It sounds like the Taz's chiddush is anticipated by this Yerushalmi: "Nimteis madche parshas tumas" implies that a gezeirah cannot infringe on the explicit permissability for women to become tamei set out by the pasuk.

Noach - an ark of words

There is a short vort of the Tiferes Shlomo on this week's parsha that needs some background elabortion to appreciate. The countless essays, books, poems, and blog posts composed by the great minds of the ages all share the aim of trying to explain, describe, and understand a reality that exists "out there". The intellectual world of words and ideas is a representation of this reality -- a means of grasping some small measure of the larger picture which lies outside the mind.

The B"esht taught exactly the opposite. "B'dvar Hashem shamayim na'asu" -- the true reality is the reality of words; what is "out there" in the physical word is the mere physical representation of deeper truths. G-d uniquely enpowered humankind over this dimension of words and granted us the ability to be a "ruach m'malela" (as the Targum puts it), a creature endowed with the power of speech, or, in other words (excuse the pun), a creature endowed with the power over words.

The beautiful landscape causes the poet to reflect and put words to paper; the tzadik's words of Torah and tefilah that draw G-d into the world cause the beautiful landscape.

Of course, it would be nice to know how to make beautiful landscapes and other beautiful things out of words. Is there some celestial scrabble board with letters that we can re-arrange to get the desired results? Unfortunately, that discussion will have to wait. It's enough for now to appreciate the basic shift in perspective.

Before jumping into the Radomsker's torah on the beginning of the parsha let me just throw in my own two cents with an observation on the end of the parsha. If the physical world is impacted by the power of words, the relationship between the ultimate failure of the dor hapalagah (--for you language purists; dor haflaga for others) to build their castle to Heaven and the devolution of language becomes that much more poignant. The failure of language is not just a practical impediment to building, but reflects an existential failing of mankind to be builders in a positive sense.

Getting to the opening of the parsha, Noach's charge to build a teivah taken on a double-meaning -- teivah means ark, but it also means "word". The Tiferes Shlomo comments on "tzohar ta'aseh la'teivah" that Noach's true task was to transform words, to make "tzarah" to "retzeih" -- meaning, to transform the presence of G-dliness manifest in the world from a force of punishment to a force of munificense. Noach unfortunately failed at that task. He could only transform "tzarah" into "tzohar", which Rashi explains to mean a diamond or window that allowed light into the ark. Noach could draw the light of G-d into his own life, but could not use that light to influence and benefit others.

Rashi describes Noach as "m'ketanei amanah", of little faith, a description seemingly at odds with the Torah's praise of Noach as a tzadik. The Radomsker explains that Noach the tzadik did not lack for faith in G-d, but he lacked faith in himself. He transformed himself, but did not believe he could influence the words and world around him.

This play on words reveals something of Noach's character and his mission, but it is not the complete story. Noach is described as a "tzadik… b'dorosav", which Rashi explains that some interpret to mean that his righteousness stood out only in his generation, but had he lived in Avraham's time he would be thought of as nothing. Chazal teach that "Yiftach b'doro k'Shmuel b'doro", that we must accept each leader on his/her own merits irrespective of their rank compared with other leaders in other generations. What purpose is there in engaging in such speculative comparisons of which tzadik is greater, Avraham or Noach? Is there a ranking system that we need to formulate?

Here too, a torah of the Radomsker sheds light on Rashi's meaning. Rashi does not mean to compare Noach to Avraham, but to reveal Noach's inherent potential. For all the greatness of Avraham, even after the test of the akeidah, he as able to say to G-d that he was "afar v'eifer", dust and ashes -- the embodiment of humility. Had Noach lived in Avraham's time he would indeed have been nothing -- not because of any ranking or comparison, but because he would also have been able to achieve that height of tzidkus and embody the same trait of nothingness!

I think putting these two torahs of the Radomsker together gives a more of a complete picture of Noach. Noach's lack of belief in his ability to rescue his generation, or at least ask G-d to mitigate punishment, was not a mark of humility. Quite the contrary. Noach did not lack a sense of self-worth; he did not think of himself as nothingness in the way that Avraham did. I would suggest that it is precisely because Noach did not have this trait of "afar v'eifer", he was not the most humble of men in the way Avraham was, that led to his failure to speak out. Who but someone who is completely self-effacing would be willing to stick his/her neck out for the sake of the residents of Sdom or the generation of the flood?

Noach was certainly a tzadik, but his words were directed inward more than outward perhaps because he believed that only he was capable or worthy of hearing those words. The teivah closed to the outside world may have kept the rains out, but it also kept in the light that might have dispelled some of the outside gloom.

What does this all mean for us? A few things:
1) An ark of words, concepts, ideology is what keeps the physical ark afloat -- not vica versa. You can lock yeshiva students in an ivory tower ark for 16 hours a day, but unless they absorb the words of Torah, physical barriers against secular culture are of little use.
2) G-d's presence is always immanent. It is up to us to determine whether it is manifest as ratzah, tzarah, or something in between.
3) Even if Torah permeates your life through your tzohar, your job is not done until the outside world shares those values.
4) The lack of belief in one's ability to help others may be a mask for a simple lack of belief in other's potential for redemption. The best cloak for ga'avah is the mantle of humility.

hachanos for mitzvos - how NOT to buy an esrog or build a sukkah

The Sefas Emes quotes a question from the Ta"z that I have been unable to find, but here it is anyway: the Midrash writes that when Hashem sees us building our sukkah and preparing lulav and esrog he promptly forgets all our past sins. Only with the start of the actual first day of Sukkos, when our preparations have ended, do our sins start to count against us. This is why the Torah calls this day "yom harishon", the first day [of Sukkos], as it is the first day "l'cheshbon avonos", for counting transgressions. How can it be, asks the Taz, that during these intervening days between Yom Kippur and Sukkos, when we are engaged in mere preparations for mitzvos, we are protected from sin, while during the actual days of Yom Tov when we are engaged in the mitzvos themselves we are prey to aveiros?

The yesod that we see from here is that hachanos, preparations, are even more valuable than mitzvos themselves. A mitzvah is like lulav or sukkah has its week or day of performance, but the preparation for the mitzvah has no shiur limiting it in time or duration. It is an endless bounty of schar available for the taking.

Last night I went to do my hachanos and buy a lulav and esrog. Standing in front of me was a man maybe in his upper-20's, with a beard, peyos, nice black yalmukah and white shirt, and he was assisting his father, a slightly older clean shaven man wearing a little cap, a man who did not seem to be a baki in hilchos lulav, which is maybe why he had his son along. The conditions were crowded, it was late, and everybody seemed to be in a rush. So this young man quickly looked over every esrog out on display, grabbed the one he wanted, and then thrust it toward the seller and yelled, "Now make me a lulav to go with it" (or something along those lines), whereupon his father added in a loud voice, "Please". The son was "nishtomem k'sha'ah chadah" and then in a slightly abashed voice added, "Yes, please".

Baruch Hashem we live in times where a clean-shaven working man from the previous generation who knows he needs a lulav but perhaps never learned or never had an opportunity to learn the halachos of lulav can have a son who grows up to be a yeshivishe-looking Jew who is yodei'a sefer. But shouldn't that growth in yediyas haTorah also mean a growth and greater sensitivity in the realm of derech eretz [which is kadma laTorah!]?

So why do we do often witness the opposite?

It is relatively easy to find an esrog which meets the criteria of mehudar at least according to some shitos Rishonim. And when you walk around in shul with an esrog that everyone admires because of your eye for hiddur and the fact that your wallet can tolerate it, or when your guests admire the beauty of your sukkah, by all means feel proud of your mitzvah observance.

But there is a much harder hiddur to fulfill, and that is the hiddur of derech eretz. Did you buy a lulav without pushing the guy next to you in line (assuming there is a line and not a chaotic mob scence)? Did you build your sukkah without screaming at your kids who are tossing parts and decorations all over and are underfoot while you are dangling from a ladder? Did you decide to pull out your power tools at 11:30PM to work on your sukkah enhancements irrespective of your neighbor's desire to get some sleep (thank you to which ever one of my neighbors was doing construction around that time last night)?

If you are makpid on these hiddurim, your neighbors may not know, your buddy in shul may not know, your sukkah guests may not know. In fact, let's not pretend otherwise - by being Mr. Nice Guy you may get pushed to the back of the line and get a less than perfect esrog yourself! And then you come home and your wife says, "This is what took 2 hours in the seforim store for?". And in shul everyone thinks you cheaped out on a chinuch set or something, or maybe you grew that wilted thing in your own backyard.

But it seems to me that if these hiddurim are the ones you are makpid on, if this is how you are medakdeik in the hachanos for your mitzvos, then you can rest assured that your "yom harishon" will indeed begin with a clean slate, with all aveiros forgotten. Indeed, your lulav and esrog is a chinuch set -- an sterling example that will educate your children and grandchildren as to how a Jew should live with derech eretz and middos tovos, an esrog with a hiddur so beautiful that it cannot be purchased for any money in the world.

Gmar chasimah tovah

Gmar chasima tova and easy fast to all. If anyone was offended by posts during the year, please do me a favor and have me in mind in your tefilah zakah when you get to the part about forgiving everyone.
Hashem should give me and you and everyone in klal yisrael koach and ability and time to learn more and more Torah in the coming year and to share it via blogs, e-mail, or maybe even to meet in person in Yerushalayim b'bias goel tzedek and to talk in learning there.

how does tshuvah undo the past? - amazing chiddush of the Sefas Emes

The Rishonim ask how the process of teshuvah can undo the past -- e.g. the Sefer haIkkarim writes that if you smash an object into pieces, no amount of regret will cause the object to reconstitute itself, so how does the regret of tshuvah cause our past mistakes to be wiped away?

I saw a comment of the Sefas Emes (in the likkutim at the end of the sedfer) that perhaps opens a new approach to answer this question. The S.E. quotes Rashi's famous statement that Hashem's judged Yishmael "ba'asher hu sham", based on his conduct up until that historical point in time, irrespective of his future actions or those of his descendents, which were undoubtedly already known already to G-d. The S.E. extrapolates an amazing chiddush. From Hashem's perspective past and future are one and the same. If Hashem chooses to ignore the future and judge a person based only on the facts of the moment, the same principle should dictate that Hashem ignores the past and judges based only on the facts of the moment! So what are we klapping al cheit for?!

The Sefas Emes explains that events of the past leave a roshem, an impression, a mark that is part of who we are at the present moment. We are not judged on past events, but we are judged based on the roshem that remains and is part of who we are at the present moment.

Based on this, I would suggest that tshuvah need not undo the past -- the question is misplaced, as the past has no bearing on how Hashem judges us. What needs to be undone in the roshem past events have had on our neshomos, a roshem that is part of our existance in the present but which can be cleaned though the process of viduy and charatah.

standing for viduy and shome'a k'oneh

The Mechaber 607:3) paskens that if you are present when the shat"z says viduy you have to stand. Rama adds that you have to recite viduy with the shat"z. The implication is that the Mechaber holds that even if even if you are not saying anything along with the shatz you still have to stand (which is how the mishna berura explains it). Why should that be true? If you are not saying viduy, why do you have to stand?

I don't think it is a din in shome'a k'oneh, and nothing to do with any chovas hagavra to say viduy or stand while saying it. It's a seperate din in the definition of viduy -- the cheftza of viduy is something recited in the context of a tzibur which is standing.

Speaking of shome'a k'oneh and viduy, the Rosh in the last perek of Yoma (#25) quotes the view of Rav Amram Gaon that on Erev Y"K the shat"z should recite viduy out loud in chazaras hashat"z to be motzi someone who is aino baki and does not know how to say viduy him/herself. The Rosh and most opinions disagree. I would guess that shome'a k'oneh does not work to be motzio somepne in viduy because although the ma'aseh mitzvah of viduy is a recitation of sins, the kiyum mitzvah is only effective if there is a corresponding sense of regret in one's heart. Shome'a k'oneh does not work where there is a ma'aseh mitzvah but no kiyum. For example, one cannot rely on shome'a k'oneh for the mitzvah of kri'as shema (see Shnos Eliyahu of the GR"A on the first Mishna in Brachos) because the recitation alone is not the full mitzvah; it must be accompanied for a kabalos ol malchus shamayim which is done b'lev.

kilkul b'shir and the ideal of a makom mikdash

The Mishna in R"H tells us that one time the witnesses who saw the new moon came late in the day, after the usual time at which the afternoon korban tamid was offered, and this led to niskalkilu haLevi'im b'shir, there was some confusion in the Beis haMikdash as to what to do -- the gemara discusses whether the shira accompanying the korban was omitted, or the wrong shirah was recited -- whatever happened, something was wrong. In response to this event a takana was made that if the witnesses arrive too late, even though their testimony would mean that the day should be declared the beginning of a new month and year, we do not accept their late testimony and instead hold the witnesses over and declare the new year as starting from the next day.

Over Yom Tov I heard an insightful comment in the name of R' Chait, the R"Y of Yeshiva Bnei Torah. R' Chait explained that it was davka because this kilkul, this confusion ,took place in the Mikdash itself, that caused the need for a legislative intervention and creation of takanos. The Mikdash is supposed to inspire all who enter within its walls and serve as a model of holiness and an example of the Torah ideal. For confusion and halachic uncertainty to exist in the very place we hold up as a model of perfection is intolerable. If our model of perfection has such flaws, what impression does that give of the Torah system as a whole? Therefore, the situation demanded remediation.

There is a natural mussar haskel from here (which I did not hear b'shem R' Chait, but I will say it anyway): in each of our little mikdash me'ats that we learn in and daven in every day, in our shuls and shteibelach and batei medrash, what takanos do we need to put in place to insure that these oases are models of perfection? What do we need to do to insure that someone who steps into a makom Torah feels insipred, feels drawn to Torah and its beauty, and does not witness kilkul b'shir?