years of chiyus when you would least expect them

We learn much about the history of Ya’akov Avinu’s life only indirectly, e.g. knowing Yishmael’s age at death, we can calculate that Ya’akov spent 14 years learning in Yeshivas Shem v’Eiver before going to Lavan’s house. Yet, the Torah is unusually verbose at the opening to our parsha in relating chronological detail. The Torah tells us not only how long Ya’akov lived in total, but also how long he lived specifically in Mitzrayim, something we could easily figure out ourselves. Meforshim and Midrash suggest that the Torah here is telling us more than chronology. “VeYechi Ya’akov” – these 17 years (gematriya tov) were years of chiyus, years in which Ya’akov flourished spiritually more than he had done so in the past, years which uplifted all prior years and infused them with new meaning. These final seventeen years were the crowing achievement of Ya’akov’s whole life.

If you are not troubled by this idea, you should be. These seventeen years are the years of Ya’akov’s greatest spiritual ascent? OK, so the years spent apart from Yosef were difficult. The years spent working for Lavan were difficult. But what about those years spent in yeshivas Shem v’Eiver? What about the years spent in Yitzchak Avinu’s home, living in Eretz Yisrael, living under his father’s roof? While Ya’akov was still young he might have even had a chance to learn with his zeide, Avraham Avinu! Years spent in the galus of Mitzrayim were greater than those years?

R’ Tzadok haKohen (Pri Tzadik 1) teaches that this is why Parhas VaYechi is a parsha stuma, a parsha that is written with no space separating it from the previous parsha. The spaces between parshiyos were opportunities for Moshe to think, to reflect on what he had been taught, “revach l’hisbonein bein parsha l’parsha” (Rashi, VaYikra 1:1). Reflection here serves no purpose, for all the reflection in the world will not help us unravel the mystery of Ya’akov’s spiritual success davka in Mitzrayim, in galus.

This same mystery repeats itself throughout Jewish history. Galus Bavel, with the Mikdash destroyed, gave rise to Talmud Bavli. Look at the vast Torah literature produced throughout the long galus we are currently in. R’ Tzadok cites R’ Bunim m’Peshischa that although niskatnu ha’doros over time, the lev becomes more pure.

What is true of the klal is true of the prat as well. Situations which seem most bleak, least opportune for spiritual development, can be the very situations in which an individual can thrive and grow to the greatest heights.

10 Teves -- fasting for the future

The Avudraham's opinion that one would be required to fast on 10 Teves even if it fell on Shabbos is well known (see here and here). The same is not true even of 9 Av. Why is 10 Teves more significant than other fast days? Why should the beginning of the siege process that years later led to churban be more significant than the churban itself?

Chasam Sofer explains that 17 Tamuz is a fast which commemorates past events – the walls of Yerushalayim were breached. 9 Av is a fast which commemorates past events – the churban, among other tragedies, took place. Same for the fast of Gedlaya. Not so the fast of 10 Teves. True, the siege was put in place on 10 Teves, but other enemies has also laid siege to Yerushalayim and they were defeated. There was time yet to avert a churban. The fast of 10 Teves is not a fast that commemorates events which already occurred, but is rather a fast of an eis tzarah, a fast to avert future tragedy.

The failure to rebuild the Mikdash is tantamount to witnessing its destruction. The din v’cheshbon of whether this year will be another year of continued churban or whether this year will be the year we avert 9 Av and witness the rebuilding of the Mikdash occurs on 10 Teves. The future is in our hands to determine.

the multiple facets of talmud torah

I wrote earlier about the focus of Brisk on the “4 amos of halacha.” It would be wrong to assume that this focus, for all its narrowness, excludes an appreciation of devikus, of avodah, etc. While these might not be viewed as independent values (as they are in the world of chassidus), they nonetheless still exist, subsumed under and part and parcel of the experience of talmud Torah.

The Rambam counts tefilah as a mitzvas aseh d’oraysa (Sefer haMitzvos #5). In addition to citing the derasha of “Ul’avdo – zu tefilah,” the Rambam also cites a derasha of, “U’lavdo – zu talmud.” Rav Soloveitchik (Shiurim l’Zecher Aba Mori – Birchas haTorah) notes that the implication of the Rambam is that talmud Torah itself is a kiyum in avodah. Study of Torah is not merely an intellectual endeavor, but is an act of devotion.

The Rambam writes in ch 3 of Hil T”T:

אף על פי שמצוה ללמוד ביום ובלילה, אין אדם למד רוב חכמתו אלא בלילה; לפיכך מי שרצה לזכות בכתר התורה, ייזהר בכל לילותיו, ולא יאבד אפילו אחת מהן בשינה ואכילה ושתייה ושיחה וכיוצא בהן, אלא בתלמוד תורה ודברי חכמה. אמרו חכמים, אין גורנה של תורה אלא לילה, שנאמר "קומי רוני בלילה"

If the pasuk of “Kumi roni ba’layla” refers to Torah study, how are we to interpret the end of the pasuk, “Shifchi kamayim libeich?” What does this pouring forth of the soul have to do with the heady intellectual experience of learning? This is exactly the Navi's point -- the stirring of the neshoma is as much a kiyum and part of talmud Torah as it is of tefilah.

The gemara (BK 81) derives from pesukim in Parshas Beshalach that Moshe Rabeinu instituted kri’as haTorah on Monday, Thursday, and Shabbos so that three days should not pass without Torah study. What was the nature of this takanah of public Torah study? Parshas Beshalach is pre-mattan Torah – there was no mitzvah of talmud Torah; there was no formal corpus of Torah to study!? Apparently this study of Torah was not done in fulfillment of any technical requirement of the mitzvah talmud Torah, but was a means of the people forging a relationship with Hashem (compare with the Shem m'Shmuel we discussed here.)

This notion can help us answer Tos. (Brachos 11) question of why we do not recite a new bracha every time we sit down to learn just as we recite a new bracha every time we (to take one example) enter the sukkah. The bracha on sukkah relates solely to the ma'aseh mitzvah of sitting in sukkah. Not so birchas haTorah, which relates more generally to this relationship between man and G-d forged by Torah. Even when one closes the gemara, the roshem of this relationship remains intact and reverberates throughout the day.

This is the meaning of the term “crown of Torah” used by the Rambam, similar to the crown of kehunah and malchus. Just as kehunah and malchus endow the individual with special qualities others lack, the study of Torah is not just a mechanical act of study, but produces a trans formative effect on one’s personality and character.

no distraction from amkus

The gemara (see Rashi) interprets Yosef’s instruction to his brothers, “Al tirgizu baderech,” to mean that they should not learn Torah en route home. Although there is a mitzvah to learn on the road, Yosef warned his brothers not to learn “b’omko shel halacha,” in depth, lest they lose their way (Rashi). You can’t concentrate on a deep sugya and concentrate on driving at the same time.

Let’s put this in context: the brothers had just discovered that the Egyptian official who they thought was going to enslave them was none other than their long lost brother Yosef -- their entire world was turned on its head. They were in such a great state of shock that the Midrash writes that they dropped dead on the spot -- Hashem had to revive them through a techiyas ha’meisim. If any of us had such an experience you can bet your last dollar that it would be the single topic of conversation in our lives for days if not weeks.

Yet, such was the level of the shevatim, explains the Brisker Rav, that Yosef had to warn them not to spend their time immediately afterward learning b’iyun on the road. What happened happened – talking about it would not change a thing or produce any benefit. Back to the world of the Ketzos, the Reb Chaim, R’ Akiva Eiger!

great line in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

I haven't read the Chronicles of Narnia series since being a kid, but my wife did a reread of the series awhile back and I trust her memory that the character of the little girl Gail introduced in the movie version of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is absent from the book. I am that much more surprised at one piece of brilliant shakla v'terya in the dialogue that must have been put in by the screenwriters and not C. S. Lewis himself. At least it shows someone was thinking while writing the script and not just figuring out how to mold the story into a special effects feast.

Gail's mother has been whisked away (in the movie -- again, not in the book) by an evil mist spirit and can only be saved by Edmund, Lucy, and King Caspian breaking the magic spell she and other Narnians are held captive under. Gail sneaks aboard their ship and tags along for the journey. At one point Lucy tries to console Gail and reassure her that they will rescue her mother -- surely they will succeed with Aslan's help [for those of you raised on a desert island, Aslan = a mashal for you-know-who in Xstianity]. Gail responds by asking a great kashe: if Aslan is powerful enough to help them triumph over evil and find her mother, why did Aslan allow her mother to be taken in the first place? Lucy responds with some generic reassurance of belief (I don't remember the exact line), but the question hangs there for the most part unanswered. It's nice to think G-d is going to help get you out of a jam, but it begs the question of why G-d put you in the jam in the first place.

The Shomer Emunim brings a segulah fro the Besh"T that he calls "haflei va'peleh" because it's so amazing. When faced with a difficulty one should not daven for it to be removed. A person has no real understanding of why he/she faces a given problem or test; demanding a release from it may only ellicit greater kitrug. The probem is there. What a person should do is daven for bitachon, because it is through bitachon that a person will find the strength to get through the crisis.

(With people assering Harry Potter these days [second rate superficial writing that does not come close to Lewis, Nesbit, Dahl, or any of the other greats], I can only imagine what the velt makes of a series like Narnia with its obvious and blatant Xstian overtones. Undoubtedly verboten. I'm sure someone out there must have gone off the derech from too much of The Lion, the Witch, and The Wardrobe. Look at what it did to me -- what else can I say?)

chains of love

I have been moved to a different set of tasks at work which is taking much of my time, hence the light posting.

The Midrash teaches that Ya'akov rightfully should have been led down to Egypt in chains. However, Hashem had mercy; He did not want Ya'akov to suffer such embarassment. Hashem therefore arranged for Yosef to descend to Mitzrayim first, leading Ya'akov to willingly make the journey on his own accord. The Midrash ends with a mashal: A farmer could not drag his cow to market. Instead of trying to pull it with ropes, the farmer wisely led the cow's calf in front of its mother, whereupon the cow had no choice but to follow.

Two points require explanation: 1) What does the mashal add to the teaching of the Midrash that is otherwise unclear? 2) If Ya'akov truly deserved to be led into galus in chains, how could he so easily be let off the hook?

The Shiurei Da'as ("Hisgabrus HaDa'as") offers a brilliant insight. Ya'akov knew that Egypt was a center of tumah; he knew that his descent to Egypt would begin a period of exile that would last hundreds of years. Ya'akov had wanted to remain in peace in Canaan and avoid the specter of galus at all costs. So why did he go? Because for all the greatness of Ya'akov Avinu, he could not escape the emotional attachment he felt as a father for his son Yosef. For all his greatness, Ya'akov was pulled by the same instinctual draw that causes a cow to follow its calf.

Ya'akov may have escaped physical chains, but he could not escape being led by the emotional chains that bound him to Yosef. And those chains were even stronger and more powerful.

zos chanukah

The last day of Chanukah is known as "zos Chanukah." My son heard from a speaker in his yeshiva b'shem R' Shmuel Birnbaum that the reason for this appellation is because on all the other days of Chanukah a person has to interrupt his seder to light menorah, to maybe go to a Chanukah party, etc. On the eighth day there is no more menorah to light at night, the parties are all over. A person can just sit and learn all day. Zos Chanukah -- this is what Chanukah really is all about!

Rogatchover on two elements of pirsumei nisa

Rashi (Sukkah 46) indicates that the bracha of she'asa nissim is recited on the neiros only after the bracha of she'hechiyanu (this is also the view of the Mes Sofrim). Why should hadlakas menorah be different in this regard from kri'as hamegillah, where the bracha of she'asa nisim precedes she'hechiyanu?

The Rogatchover explains that there are two seperate miracles which Chanukah celebrates: 1) the victory over the Hellenists; 2) the miracle of the oil/menorah. These different miracles give rise to two distinct kiyumim of pirsumei nisa, one connected directly with the act of hadlakas menorah, one connected more generally with the celebration of the day.

The bracha of she'asa nisim recited on Purim is directly connected only with the mitzvah of kri'as hamegillah; it therefore comes immediately after the bracha on kri'ah. The bracha of she'asa nisim recited on Chanukah, however, is not only directly related to the mitzvah of pirsumei nisa through hadlakah; it also commemorates the military victory. Therefore, it is placed only after the she'hechiyanu, after the act of hadlakah is complete.

This also explains why one may recite the bracha of she'asa nisim upon seeing a menorah (according to some Rishonim only if one will not light later; according to other Rishonim even if one will light). Tosfos (Sukkah 46a) wonders why we do not find such a bracha by any other mitzvah -- there is no bracha on seeing a sukkah, on seeing a piece of matzah, etc. The difference between Chanukah and other mitzvos is that the bracha of she'asa nisim is not connected only with the mitzvah act of hadlakah, but rather also serves as a seperate blessing of thanksgiving. (See Reshimos Shiurim on Sukkah citing R' Soloveitchik for a different approach.)

These two themes are hinted at in the Rambam's double-language, "l'har'os u'legalos hanes." In addition to demonstrating (l'haros) to all the obvious miracle of the menorah, our mission is to reveal (l'galos) the hidden miracle of the military victory over the Greeks.

The Rogatchover adds a fascinating chiddush l'halacha. Since batlah megillas ta'anis, that element of pirsumei nisa connected with the military victory is no longer celebrated. For this reason we are not required to light menorah in public and we no longer are required to recite she'asa nisim upon seeing a menorah. Our kiyum of pirsumei nisa is limited in its fulfillment simply to the act of lighting in private. (A novel explanation as to why the minhag is not to light outdoors even in our times when no tangible sakanah exists!)

Pharoah's dream and the message of Chanukah

R’ Tzadok haKohen points out that the yeshu’a of Chanukah is very different from that of Purim. Haman plotted the destruction of Klal Yisrael, but before he could accomplish anything, his plan was thwarted and no one came to harm. Not so in the case of Chanukah, where the Hellenists plotted against Klal Yisrael and did enjoy a measure of success. The walls of the Mikdash were breached, the Mikdrash was defiled, there were persecutions and lives lost, shmad had an effect. True, in the end there was a victory, there was a miracle of the pach shemen, but what of the pain in getting to there? Should we be celebrating or crying?

The Rishonim point out that Parshas Mikeitz always coincides with Chanukah. There are various remazim in the parsha that connect to the holiday, but I think there is perhaps a thematic connection as well.

I don’t think it’s only with the benefit of hindsight that we can say that interpreting the meaning of Pharoah's dream – seven fat cows and seven skinny cows, seven full bundles of wheat and seven skinny bundles – does not seem to be rocket science. Associating livestock and grain with the GDP of Egypt does not require that great an imaginative leap. Why did the wise men of Egypt have such a problem with this dream?

Meforshim (e.g. see Meshech Chochma, Yismach Moshe) explain that had Pharoah’s dream consisted of seven fat cows followed by seven skinny cows, its meaning would have been clear. What threw the wise men off was the fact the in the dream the seven skinny cows stood next to the seven fat cows – they both were on stage, in Pharoah's mind, at the same time, simultaneously. The Egyptians knew that G-d can intervene in their world. They knew the story of the flood, the story of the tower of Babel. Had Pharoah seen seven fat cows, they would have gotten the message that G-d was going to deliver prosperity to their country. Had Pharoah seen seven skinny cows, they would have gotten the message that a famine was coming. What they could not understand was how seven fat cows and seven skinny cows could appear simultaneously – was this a sign of good tidings or bad? How can it be both?

The Ishbitzer teaches (it’s actually a Zohar) that, “VaYiritzuhu min habor,” comes from the word, “Ratzon,” desire. Yosef realized that Hashem’s plan, his dreams, were not meant to unfold by his leaping to leadership in spectacular fashion. Those years in the dungeon were not obstacles to his goal, but were part of Hashem’s ratzon, part of the plan. And as my wife noted, it’s not just the “bor” of the Egyptian dungeon which Yosef now understood in that context, but also the “bor” into which his brothers threw him.

Sheva yipol tzadik v’kam – it’s not that there are seven obstacles which unfortunately get in the way of achieving the real goal, but rather, those seven failures are necessary steps, without which reaching the end goal would be impossible.

Only Yosef understood that the ratzon Hashem is not either/or, either punishment or blessing; it can be both simultaneously. Every nefilah creates the potential to achieve greater heights; every rise to new heights must come to an end for the process of growth to renew itself. The seven cows, both fat and skinny, do indeed go hand in hand.

R’ Tzadok explains that this is the unique message of Chanukah. Seven nefilos plus one = the eight days of Chanukah (my wife gets credit for that one). Just because the plans of our enemies were not completely thwarted does not mean the ratzon Hashem was stifled. It simply means that the ratzon Hashem required a difficult journey to come to fruition. And in the end, our appreciation for the light that emerges after such a journey is that much greater and more special.

pirsumei nisa through hadlakah b'tzibur

Lighting menorah in shul is done to fulfill the mitzvah of pirsumei nisa b'tzibur. The minhag in many shuls is to light between mincha and ma'ariv. Why not light before mincha, as the menorah in the mikdash was lit before the korban tamid shel bein ha'arbayim, or after ma'ariv, when it is dark? Rav Soloveitchik explained that the idea of tzibur means more than 10 people who happen to be standing around in the same place. There has to be some halachic "glue" that joins these 10 people into one entity and creates tziruf. Tefilah accomplishes that task. Rather than light before mincha when tefilah has not yet started, or after ma'ariv, when the tzibur is breaking apart, the lighting is done in between, when that shem tzibur is in place. (I have never been happy with this idea -- where do we find a makor that the kiyum of pirsumei nisa demands a formal shem tzibur? To the contrary, we find by other halachos of pirsumei nisa, e.g. kri'as hamegillah, that the idea of 10 is pattered after the mitzvah of kiddush hashem b'rabim, which simply demands a public audience. I am wondering if this idea of hadlakah b'rabim may in fact not be a chiyuv b'tzibur, but a chiyuv on the tzibur, and that may create the more formal need for tziruf.)

when to light menorah

There is a machlokes between the Shulchan Aruch and the Rambam/GR”A as to the proper time to light chanukah the menorah. The S.A.’s view is that the menorah should be lit only after bein hashemashos, at dark, somewhere around 5:10 or 5:20ish in the NY area. The Rambam/GR”A hold that the menorah should be lit immediately after shekiya, around 4:30ish in the NY area.

Since bein hashemashos, twilight, is a period of safeik (it’s unclear whether it counts as day or night), we normally wait until after bein hashemashos to fulfill a mitzvah whose chiyuv starts at night/ the following day, e.g. reading megillah on Purim, eating matzah on Pesach, sitting in sukkah are all done after bein hashemashos, when we can say with certainty that it is dark/the next day. Why should menorah be different?

Rav Soloveitchik explained that with respect to other mitzvos, the chovas hagavra begins only after nightfall. Not so with respect to Chanukah. The reason we can't light earlier than nighfall is because, “Shraga b’tihara mai ahanei,” what good is a candle when you have daylight to see by -- a candle that serves no function is not a candle. The cheftza shel mitzvah, not the chovas hagavra, is lacking before dark. Since a candle provides noticeable illumination even during twilight, the GR"A held that the menorah should be lit immediately after shekiya. (We touched on this idea once before here.)

The Rav held that even the S.A. agrees in principle with this idea. The reason the S.A. says to wait until later is because while a candle lit during bein hashemashos does help us see better, it is not an absolute necessity.

The catch to the GR"A approach is Motzei Shabbos, when you have no choice but to light after bein hashemahos. The problem is your "ad she'tichleh regel min hashuk" clock after which you can no longer light begins ticking at shekiya. Ma'aseh Rav brings down that the GR"A would daven ma'ariv as soon as possible on this Motzei Shabbos to avoid this problem. On an ordinary Shabbos many people are inclined to wait extra time before ending Shabbos in deference to the view of Rabeinu Tam. However, because on this Motzei Shabbos that chumra turns into a kula with respect to Chanukah candles, it seems that (assuming you hold that the GR"A's view regarding nightfall is correct) it would be better to daven at whatever you hold the correct time for ma'ariv is m'ikar hadin. (I have seen written that Rav Soloveitchik held that nightfall is about 40 minutes after shekiya, and ma'ariv can be davened even earlier than that.) Of course, don't pasken issues based on a blog.

My son complained that he will be dismissed from yeshiva today at 4:30, too late to get home in time to light by shekiya. I told him to take it up with his menahel. As a sniff l’hakeil I suggested that if he can arrange for one of his free periods to fall out at the end of the day and learn during that time, he may not be mechuyav to stop his seder for the sake of lighting exactly on time (this is a discussion for another time).

avoiding tests

Yosef refused the advances of Eishes Potifar, "V'lo shama eileha lishkav etzlah l'heyos ima." (39:10) The Midrash darshens the double-language of the pasuk to mean that Yosef not only refused to have relations with Eishes Potifar, but he even refused to lie in the same bed as her (lishkav etzlah), despite prophetically knowing that he was destined to join her in olam haba (l'heyos ima).

The Koznitzer Maggid asks what the chiddush of this Midrash is. Obviously Yosef haTzadik would avoid even being in the same bed as her as Eishes Potifar. Would we dream otherwise?

A person grows from each challenge faced and each test overcome. Kal v’chomer this is true of a tzadik like Yosef. Each time he faced Eishes Potiphar and resisted her advances he became spiritually stronger. Eishes Potiphar therefore offered Yosef what seemed like a reasonable suggestion – instead of running away from her, increase the temptation and test by drawing closer, by lying next to her. How much greater schar would be from withstanding such a test – it would guarantee both of them a place in olam ha’ba!

This was the trap that the Midrash is teaching us that Yosef did not fall prey to. Yosef refused to lie next to Eishes Potifar even for the sake of proving that he could resist her and thereby gain additional schar. Given the choice, it's always better to avoid a difficult situation rather than prove one's ability to overcome the challenge. Tempting fate is far too great a risk, no matter what the potential benefit may be.