the shelo asani issue non-controversy

Of course halacha responds (I think "changes" would be a poor choice of words here) to circumstance -- that's not the "chiddush" that makes the idea of abolishing the bracha of shelo asani isha controversial. Changes in metziyus often (but not always) prompt changes in din; different facts can lead to a different verdict / outcome. We know hefsed merubah, sha'as hedechak, b'makom eivah, etc. can also lead poskim to provide innovate solutions or to rely on views that otherwise might not be accepted.

The with respect to shelo asani isha is simple: Do we have a right to invoke sha'as hadechak k'dieved dami not in response to an external change of circumstance, facts, or extraordinary need, but instead in response to our own feelings and moral judgments as to what halacha should or should not be?

None of what has been written on the topic (e.g. here, here, here, and here) provides any evidence that that question can and should be answered affirmatively. Case closed.

In Professor Tabory's paper on shelo asani isha (found on the JOFA website), he cites an array of commentators who have explained the bracha of she'lo asani in ways that do not demean women. Sensitivity to the potential (mis)interpretation of the bracha as offensive is not a new phenomenon. Historically speaking, Professor Tabory notes that, "...Orthodox Judaism found only one proponent for a change in the liturgy..." Only one! And the footnotes to the paper reveal that even that one proposal for change was made in response to the particular situation of eivah created by shelo asani aku"m, not in response to shelo asani isha.

With respect to halachic innovation, the dean of YCT, R' Avi Weiss, elsewhere (Judaism, 1997) has written, "...All those who hold to Orthodoxy contend that "new Halakha," which emerges constantly from the wellspring of the halakhic process, must always be based on the highest caliber of religio-legal authority. There must be an exceptional halakhic personality (italics mine) who affirms the new ruling on the grounds of sound halakhic reasoning."

It's a shame his musmakhim and talmidim have not adopted their rebbe's standard. Rabbi Dov Linzer notices that even Rav Henkin, a favored posek within the modern community, often will lay out theoretical approaches that allow great room for leniency, but then pull back from actually allowing more radical ideas to be accepted l'ma'aseh. Instead of ascribing this caution to a fear of "loss of credibility or acceptance," (link, p. 8), perhaps it should better be ascribed to yiras shamayim and respect for mesorah, values that are at least as important as fostering gender equality.

The burden of proof rests on those who clamor for change. Their subjective sense that the explanations of others, among them gedolei haAchronim, are lacking (mere "apologetics"), is far from sufficient.

I don't really understand why this issue has gotten so much play when there is so little to discuss.

putting the pieces together

The Midrash opens Parshas Eikev:

הלכה אדם מישראל שיש לו מנורה שעשויה פרקים פרקים מהו לטלטלה בשבת. כך שנו חכמים המרכיב קני מנורה בשבת חייב חטאת ומשום מה מחייב א"ר אבהו בשם רבי יוחנן המרכיב את המנורה בשבת כאדם שבונה בשבת ומי שהוא בונה בשבת חייב א"ר יוסי ברבי חנינא אימתי שמרו ישראל את השבת כשם שראוי לה. תחלה כשניתנה להן באלוש מנין שנאמר (שמות יז) וישבתו העם ביום השביעי ואת סבור שמא לרעתך נתתי לך את השבת לא נתתי לך אלא לטובתך כיצד א"ר חייא ברבי אבא את מקדש את השבת במאכל ובמשתה ובכסות נקיה ומהנה את נפשך ואני נותן לך שכר מנין (ישעיה נח) וקראת לשבת עונג וגו' מה כתיב אחריו (שם) אז תתענג על ה' ויתן לך משאלות לבך אמרו לו ישראל ואימתי את נותן לנו שכר המצות שאנו עושים אמר להם הקב"ה מצות שאתם עושים מפירותיהן אתם אוכלים עכשיו אבל שכרו בעקב אני נותן לכם מנין ממה שקרינו בענינינו והיה עקב תשמעון:

What does the halachic question of whether one may put together or move a menorah made of snap together parts on Shabbos have to do with our parsha?

The meforshim explain that the Midrash is answering an implicit question by way of analogy. Why is it that the reward for mitzvos is collected only "eikev," at the end of days, as the Midrash concludes? I did a good deed today -- why can't I collect my reward today? The answer is that each good deed is but one "perek," one bolt, one small piece, of the larger menorah that you and I are supposed to build and become.

At my place of work we had a staff meeting on Friday and one of the topics mentioned in passing was thinking about one's career. Aside from the performing the day in and day out drudgery of work, employers like to think you are planning and aspiring and working toward the greater goal of becoming a better, more efficient worker bee to better server the collective hive. L'havdil, aside from our daily job of Torah and mitzvos, we need to think about the bigger picture -- where is my Torah or avodah career going? How does this individual mitzvah serve not just as an end in itself (certainly important!), but as a part, a piece that helps build towards a larger accomplishment for myself and/or for the klal? How do the pieces fit together to make the menorah that will shine our light into the world?

The hava amina of the Midrash, "shema l'ra'ascha nasati es haShabbos," that perhaps Shabbos was given to our detriment, is hard to fathom, but in light of the analogy above I think we can make sense of it. Thinking about the larger picture takes time, but we are all so busy with the little tasks that make up every day -- there is always so much to do! The Torah provided a solution -- Shabbos. When you are so caught up in the cycle of running from one emergency to the next, one chore to the next, putting out one fire after another, the idea of just sitting back and pushing all that aside to take stock seems like a waste of time -- "shema l'ra'asecha." But the truth is that without that break to look at the bigger picture, all you will have is a pile of "perakim" and you will never be able to build the menorah.

Finally, the conclusion of the Midrash seems to distinguish between the reward for oneg Shabbos, which Hashem pays up front, and the reward for all mitzvos, which comes later. Why the distinction?

Sefas Emes explains that reward comes when we achieve shleimus, tikun -- when the menorah is finished. You can't have shleimus while you are still busy building and fixing the world. However, Shabbos is a m'ein olam ha'ba. Halacha says that when Shabbos comes we have to feel like all the work of the week has been finished and put it aside. On Shabbos we borrow a little bit of the shleimus we will ultimately attain, and can enjoy its reward even while in this world.

quid pro quo

Two quick comments on the parsha:

I think two questions asked about the opening of our parsha resolve each other:

1. "V'haya eikev tishme'un es hamishpatim ha'eileh..." Why the focus on mishpatim as opposed to chukim or other categories of mitzvos?

2. "V'shamar Hashem Elokecha lecha es habris v'es hachesed asher nishba l'avosecha." Why does the Torah need to reiterate that Hashem will keep his word and deliver all the chesed he promised to the Avos -- if Hashem makes a promise, surely he will keep it?!

The Torah is perhaps telling us that even if we obey Torah only because it makes sense to us -- when we see halacha as mishpat, just and fair laws -- but we lack the commitment to obey even when things don't make sense, still, Hashem will keep his word to deliver the full measure of reward he promised to the Avos who had a far superior level of emunah. No wonder the parsha opens with "V'haya," a term of simcha!

On a different note, in the comments of the post on matnas chinam from last week the important point was made that matnas chinam means recognizing that there is no quid pro quo with G-d. A person can't say that because he/she did good deed X, therefore G-d "owes" them one and they deserve some particular reward in return, so special treatment (and the abuse of so-called segulos in this regard goes without saying). Moshe Rabeinu did not demand entrance to Eretz Yisrael in "exchange" for all the good deeds he had done. So here's an amazing Ksav Sofer on this week's parsha that hits the same theme:

"...HaKeil hagadol hagibor v'hanora asher lo yisa panim v'lo yikach shochad." (10:17)

"Oseh mishpat yasom v'almanah v'oheiv ger...." (10:18)

What does it mean that G-d doesn't take bribes -- how could you even try to bribe G-d? And is Hashem defender only of the weak, the widow, the orphan, the convert? Doesn't Hashem do chessed for all of us?

Ksav Sofer writes that the pasuk is not talking about Hashem -- it's talking about people. It takes someone special to go out of his/her way to defend and protect those who everyone else in society ignores and has no pity for. You might think that someone like that deserves "protektziya," deserves to be treated a little differently than everyone else, deserves to have some failings overlooked, deserves to have some special requests granted. But, says the Ksav Sofer, Hashem doesn't do things that way. A good deed done in one area doesn't excuse a lapse in another -- G-d is not a horse-trader. The pasuk should be read as one sentence: "V'lo yokach shochad," Hashem does not take bribes, "Oseh mishpat yasom v'almanah," from those who do charity and good deeds for the widow and orphan. Charity and kindness are important, but they cannot be used as a means of "buying" off G-d to get a favor in return or to excuse lack of attention to other areas of Torah and mitzvos.

simlasecha lo balsa

"Simlasecha lo balsa mei'alecha..." OK, so they didn't need to visit the dry cleaners during the 40 years in the midbar. But when you read the pasuk in light of this gemara (Shabbos 152b), what a different meaning it has:

ת"ר (קוהלת יב) והרוח תשוב אל האלהים אשר נתנה תנה לו כמו שנתנה לך בטהרה אף אתה בטהרה משל למלך ב"ו שחלק בגדי מלכות לעבדיו פקחין שבהן קיפלום והניחום בקופסא טפשים שבהן הלכו ועשו בהן מלאכה לימים ביקש המלך את כליו פקחין שבהן החזירום לו כשהן מגוהצין טפשין שבהן החזירום לו כשהן מלוכלכין שמח המלך לקראת פקחין וכעס לקראת טפשין על פקחין אמר ינתנו כלי לאוצר והם ילכו לבתיהם לשלום ועל טפשין אמר כלי ינתנו לכובס והן יתחבשו בבית האסורים אף הקב"ה על גופן של צדיקים אומר (ישעיהו נז) יבא שלום ינוחו על משכבותם ועל נשמתן הוא אומר (שמואל א כה) והיתה נפש אדוני צרורה בצרור החיים על גופן של רשעים הוא אומר (ישעיהו מח) אין שלום אמר ה' לרשעים ועל נשמתן הוא אומר (שמואל א כה) ואת נפש אויביך יקלענה בתוך כף הקלע

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

The "simla" of the pasuk is the ruach taharah of Torah u'mitzvos! "Simlasecha lo balsa mei'alecha" -- for forty years that spirit remained untainted and pristine, a model for us to imitate.

Tu B'Av

Earlier this month we discussed how the character of Av is defined by the personality of Aharon haKohen, whose yahrzeit and birthday (see Kid. 38) are on Rosh Chodesh Av. Maharal (in Ohr Chadash) explains that the 15th of any month is the point at which the character of the month is expressed most fully (actually the Maharal focuses on the 14th and uses his yesod to explain the date of Purim; be that as it may, the 15th is still significant as the point immediately after the character of the month has attained fullest expression). Aharon was a paragon of chessed; he was oheiv shalom v'rodef shalom. For this reason, the 15th of Av, the holiday of Tu b'Av, is a date replete with shalom and chessed. On this day the ban instituted because of the pilegesh b'Givah incident prohibiting sheivet Binyamin from intermarrying with other tribes was lifted and peace between the tribes was restored. On this day the ban against women of the dor hamidbar who were yorshos intermarrying with other tribes was lifted. This day was the day (as described in the Mishna in Ta'anis, see my wife's posts on the topic here) that women would go out to the vineyards to dance and choose their husbands. The gemara writes that there is an obligation to increase Torah study at night from the 15th of Av onward, as the nights grow longer. The Koshiglover explains the reason is because Torah brings peace and harmony into the world -- "talmidei chachamim marbim shalom ba'olam." Tu b'Av marks the completion of our "shiva week" for churban habayis that began on 9Av (see R' Tzadok haKohen). What better way to end the mourning caused by sinas chinam than to rededicate and celebrate shalom v'rei'us.

va'eschanan - the meaning of matnas chinam

VaEschanan el Hashem… Rashi explains that the word "va’eschanan" hints to Moshe requesting that his request be granted as a mantas chinam, a free gift, rather than in the merit of his mitzvos.

The Midrash (Shmos, parsha 40) comments on the pasuk, “V’chanosi es asher achon…” as follows:

Hashem showed Moshe all the treasure houses in shamayim and he pointed out who each one was for. “Here’s the treasure chest for those who do mitzvos. Here’s the treasure chest for those who raise orphans..." and so on and so forth, until they got to the biggest treasure chest of all.

“Who's that for?” asked Moshe.

“The other treasures,” said Hashem, “Were given to those who earned them. But for those who have nothing, I give them a mantas chinam of my treasure chest.”

“V’chanosi es asher Echon” – Hashem gives away a mantas chinam.

What kind of system is this? A guy spends his life doing mitzvos, learning Torah, helping others, and he gets a smaller reward than the guy who has nothing!?

The Shem m’Shmuel explains in the name of his father, the Sochatchover, that for those who pride themselves on the mitzvos they have done, large or small, the reward is the fruits of those mitzvos, and there is a treasure chest of appropriate size. But for those who come to shamayim and despite all that they have done, feel that they have accomplished nothing – for after all is said an done, how much has anyone really accomplished in comparison to what we owe Hashem – for these people, Hashem sets aside the greatest treasure of all, his mantas chinam.

Moshe could have asked Hashem to go to Eretz Yisrael in the zechus of his Torah, his avodah, his leadership of Klal Yisrael. But Moshe realized that after all is said and done, it’s all mantas chinam.

geirus of yisurim and the missing sin of Yisa(s)char

The Rama writes that we eat egg on leil ha'seder because egg is a symbol of mourning, and we know that whatever night of the week seder night falls out on, 9 Av will be the same night of the week. We find other connections between 9 Av and Pesach -- this relationship is the theme of the kinah which contrasts "b'tzeisi MiMitzrayim," the greatness of Klal Yisrael and the miracles experienced during the exodus, with "b'tzeisi m'Yerushalayim," the tragedy of the churban. At the kinos program at Yeshiva Darcehi Torah this morning R' Naftali Jeger, R"Y of Shor Yoshuv, quoted R' Yonasan David as explaining the connection between the two as follows: The gemara (Yevamos 46a) says that when a ger wishes to convert, he/she is told that the Jewish people are now a persecuted, downtrodden, afflicted people -- why would he/she possibly want to join the nation of Klal Yisrael? If the potential ger answers, "I know -- and I am not worthy, aini k'dai" he/she is immediately accepted. Rashi adds, "u'mi yitein v'ezkeh l'kach," the ger says, "If only I were worthy of suffering along with them!" At the moment of yetziyas Mitzrayim, the Jewish people collectively underwent geirus by accepting malchus shamayim and the mitzvos of leil haseder. 9 Av is another type of geirus we underwent as a people -- 9 Av is the geirus that comes of participating in Jewish suffering.

Ultimately, with the coming of Moshiach, the tragedies of galus will be revealed as necessary steps on the road to geulah and part of Hashem's chassadim. Hashem is a "mavi go'el," in the present tense, because all our trials and tribulations are steps down that road. R' Greenberg, a R"M at Yeshiva of Far Rockaway, quoted the Derashos Chasam Sofer on Chanukah that the gematriya of Yisachar = 830, which corresponds to the 410 years of bayis rishon + 420 years of bayis sheni. Chasam Sofer explains that even though the name Yisacher is written with two letter sins, we pronounce only one because the silent sin = 300, the number of years we lived under Greek dominion during bayis sheni, when we were not truly a free country. After the future geulah we will look back and see how even those years were filled with chasdei Hashem. After geulah we will pronounce Yisachar as it is written, with a double-sin. R' Greenberg brilliantly suggested that this is the meaning of Hashem's message of comfort to Rachel Imeinu, "Yesh sachar l'peulaseich v'shavu m'eretz oyev." Yesh sachar = the same letters a Yisachar, a foreshadowing and hint to the day when we will be able to pronounce Yisachar properly. (See here for fantastic another vort said over by R' Greenberg.)

(Any errors in writing these ideas over are mine alone and should not be attributed to the Rosh Yeshiva or R' Greenberg.)

I saw an interesting din quoted by the Chasam Sofer in his derashos. He quotes a Mechilta that after yetziyas Mitzrayim, the year of the date was reckoned from yetziyas Mitzrayim. Had we still had a Beis haMikdash, we would count years since the binyan habayis. However, since we are suffered the churban, the year is counted based on the time elapsed since the churban. The Chasam Sofer goes on to write that he is fulfilling this din and he mentions that the year of his derasha was exactly x number of years since churban habayis. I don't know if your bank will accept a check if you write the year as 1941, the number of years since the churban, but it apparently is something halacha wants us to be aware of. Why? I think the answer is that it's not enough to know there was a mikdash, there was a churban, we are in galus, but more than that -- we we need to be also aware of just how long and painful this galus has been. Nineteen hundred plus years of pain is a long time. Nineteen hundred plus tisha b'Av's spent on the floor reading kinos is a lot of mourning. Ninteen hundred plus years is a long time to keep a memory of a Mikdash alive. Yet, we have done so and continue to do so, and in that zechus will hopefully see the Mikdash again very soon.

shabbos devarim - chazon

Some random thoughts for the end of the week:

1. Let me start with a little halacha. Hat tip to Havolim for his discussion last week on the issue of mara d'asra, ayen sham. I just want to mention on point applicable to the 9 days. The Rama writes that on Shabbos Chazon weekday clothes, not Shabbos clothes, should be worn. The minhag of most of the world is not like this Rama, as even during aveilus, one is not permitted to publicly show signs of mourning on Shabbos (see the Aruch haShulchan who tries to justify both positions). The Rivevos Ephraim (II:157) discusses the case of travellers who are in Europe and stay in Cracow over Shabbos Chazon -- should they follow the prevelant custom of wearing regular Shabbos clothes, or follow the custom of the Rama, the m'ara d'asra of Cracow, and wear weekday clothes? His conclusion is that we cannot apply the principle of minhag hamakom to a place like Cracow which no longer has any established Jewish community. Sounds from some of the sources cited in B's post that perhaps the idea of following the mara d'asra is an independent din, perhaps an extension of kavod harav, not just an offshoot of minhag hamakom, but you can argue otherwise if you like.

2. Moshe opens Sefer Devarim by giving tochacha regarding the many sins that took place in the midbar: he cheit ha'eigel, the complaints about the man, the rebellion of Korach, etc. All of these were done by the generation which left Mitzrayim, the generation which perished during the 40 year trek through the desert. The generation to whom Moshe was speaking played no role in these events. Why was Moshe speaking to them about past history?

Sefas Emes explains that each generation is responsible to try to rectify the faults of the past, not just focus only on the present. This is what Chazal meant when they said any generation that does not have the Mikdash rebuilt in its lifetime is as if it was destroyed during its lifetime. The blame for the faults of the past may lie in the past, but if you do nothing to make things better, you are just as culpable.

3. "B'shuv Hashem es shivas Tziyon hayinu k'cholmim." R' Zevin (in his sefer on Torah u'Moadim) explains that when one is dreaming, one is unencumbered by the constraints of logic -- mutually exclusive opposites have no problem coexisting. In galus a person can rise to the greatest heights for a few minutes each morning during tefilah and then fall into the opposite abyss of gashmiyus once he leaves to deal with the outside world. Once the geulah comes we will realize "hayinu k'cholim," this type of existance is possible only as a dream, but is not reality.

4. Some more Rav Zevin: The Midrash teaches that had we been zoche, we would read, "Eicha esa levadi...," but now that we have not been zoche, we read, "Eicha yashva badad..." A person can stand out, alone, for different reasons. There is the person who stands apart because he has risen above his colleagues through hard work and effort -- it's lonely at the top. There is the loneliness that occurs when everyone sinks and just being left standing sets one apart. "Eicha esa l'vadi" is the cry of struggling to stay on top of the mountain of ticha and burdens once one has risen above them. "Eicha yashva badad" is the cry of one left standing after everyone else has sunk and been crushed.

5. Why did Moshe share with Klal Yisrael the fact that he was overburdened and overwhelmed and therefore needed to appoint helper judges? Shouldn't Moshe's job problems have been shared only with his manager (Hashem), not his customers? Pashut pshat is that Moshe was telling Klal Yisrael they were being too troublesome, but the Ishbitzer has another twist. Moshe made the plan to appoint assistant judges public because he was hoping Klal Yisrael would take a hint -- instead of applauding the plan, he was hoping they would protest and clamor for his leadership alone. This would (Moshe hoped, at least) have given him a leg to stand on in requesting to stay on and guide Klal Yisrael into Eretz Yisrael. Unfortunately, Klal Yisrael were perfectly happy accepting the lesser judges. They just listened to the plan and went along without a murmur. So many other times Bnei Yisrael gave voice to protest one imagined injustice after another, yet here -- silence! Moshe ends his tochacha by telling Klal Yisrael that he found chachomim to appoint, but he could not find nevonim -- he could not find anyone who could infer his intent and realize what the situation called for.

debt ceiling psak

From R' Aviner's website:

Question: Our debt continues to grow. Is there a Segula to reverse this trend?

Answer: Certainly. You should spend less than you bring in, and not rely on the miracle of overcoming a simple mathematical principle. The Tur wrote that one should limit his expenses. The Mishnah Berurah explains that this is a harsh criticism against those who are enticed to spend money on luxuries without seeing the consequences, which in the end lead to theft and disgrace. Biur Halachah chap. 529. One should plan well.

Was the Rav perhaps weighing in on the debt ceiling debate? If so, I would have to say halacha sides with the Tea Party and not Obamanomics, but that's a davar pashut anyway.

two nice meshech chochma's on parshas masei

Two nice Meshech Chochma's on last week's parsha:

1. Why is it that the arei miklat were not koleit until after kibush v'chiluk, until after the conquest and apportionment of Eretz Yisrael? The only way a murderer was allowed out of an ir miklat was if the kohen gadol died. A person who killed b'shogeg lived every day with the hope that today might be the day of the K"G's passing. The Mishna tells us that the mother's of the kohanim used to bring treats to distribute in the cities so that those in galus would not daven for their son's demise. Since Hashem had said that the division of Eretz Yisrael would be done by Yehoshua and Elazar, it meant that Elazar would live at least another fourteen years -- anyone sent to an ir miklat before that had no chance of getting out. A person can't live without hope! It's not enough to know that a few years or months down the road things may be better -- a person needs to feel there is some chance of things getting better today.

2. The pasuk refers to the shogeg not leaving ir miklat until the passing of the kohen gadol "asher mashach oso," who was annointed by the murderer. It sounds like the murderer b'shogeg was the one who annointed the Kohen, which makes no sense. The gemara therefore interprets the pasuk to mean, "asher nimshach," the kohen who was annointed (passive voice instead of active). So why, asks the Meshech Chochma, does the Torah phrase things in such a misleading way? He explains that Hashem dictates b'hashgacha pratis precisely how long each shogeg must stay in the ir miklat. One person may deserve to stay there 10 years; another person might only deserve to be there 10 days. Who would be appointed kohen gadol and how long that kohen gadol would live was directly dependent (hence the active voice) on the sentence deserved by the murderer. This is a powerful lesson in hashgacha pratis is. We are talking about the kohen gadol who served all of Klal Yisrael in an enormously important capacity, yet who gets that job might depend on the needs of a single person in ir miklat.

Av and Aharon haKohen

"Braishis bara Elokim es..." The word "es" hints to the aleph-beis, aleph through tuf, which represents the unfolding of Hashem's presence from aleph, a singular point of complete unity, to the complete universe with all its various elements. The aleph-beis reversed represents tzimtzum, the reverse process, i.e. Hashem withdrawing and withholding his presence from the universe.

Tishrei is the month of judgment, the month of Rosh haShana, Yom Kippur, y'mei hadin. The name of the month begins with tuf-shin-reish, a backwards rendition of the aleph-beis. Din entails Hashem holding back until we prove ourselves worthy and pass muster.

The month we enter tomorrow is Av, aleph-beis, the first two letter in their proper order. Av is the month characterized most by Hashem's giving of himself, his midas hachessed.

Because Av is so filled with potential for chessed, the forces of destruction are strongest as well, because every force of kedusha is counterbalanced by the potential to squander that goodness and destroy it. However, even amid destruction, chessed is still there, below the surface. "Mizmor l'Assaf" -- kinah l'Assaf m'bayei leih?! The gemara answers that the title mizmor is appropriate for a psalm describing destruction because the destruction of the Mikdash was itself as act of chessed, as Hashem vented his anger on stones and wood instead of further punishing Klal Yisrael. Chessed sometimes has to be wrapped up in din to make its way into the world, but it still gets here.

Rosh Chodesh Av is the yahrtzeit of Aharon haKohen. Maharal explains that the letters of Aharon's name, (aleph) - hey-reish-nun, are the middle letters of the units of 1's (hey), tens (nun), and hundreds (reish) in the aleph-beis. Aharon is pnimiyus -- just as these letters are the innermost ones of their respective units, Aharon's personality had inner depths that could not be seen on the outside. Aharon taught us to not be fooled or swayed by the way things appear on the surface -- what appears to be a kinah could really be a mizmor. Aharon was the rodef shalom who forced people to look below superficial differences and find a deeper unity that could draw them together.

The passing of Aharon represents the removal of our sensitivity to that deepest level of pnimiyus. Unfortunately we know too well about kinos, both of past and present tragedies. We have no sense of "Mizmor l'Assaf," we do not feel justice or goodness in tragedy, even below the surface. We see Av as a month of aveilus; we have lost any sense of its character as the month of chessed, the month of ahavas shalom, the midah which Aharon epitomized. We as a people are splintered by superficial divisions and have lost any sense of the common core below the surface that unites us.

We can only hope for the day when that sense of pnimiyus will return and Av's true character will reveal itself.

tefilos on behalf of someone else

Last week we touched briefly on the power of one’s tefilos to affect another person’s ruchniyus. The Maor Va’Shemesh writes that even those who did join in the physical battle against Midyan shared responsibility for the soldiers’ hirhurei avirah during battle. Why are those who remained behind responsible for the aveiros of the soldiers? Because had they been davening better for the soldiers' success, there would not have been aveiros!

We find the same idea in this week’s parsha. One who murders b’shogeg must remain in a city of refuge until the death of the kohen gadol. The Mishna says that the mothers of the kohanim used to deliver food to these refugees so they wouldn’t daven for the death of their children. What did the kohanim do wrong to deserve this? The gemara explains that they should have davened that there be no killings on their watch (see Maharal, Gur Aryeh, on Rashi 35:25!)

(Parenthetically, the Targum Yonasan says the K.G. should have davened for this on Yom Kippur, opening the door to the question of why a K.G. appointed after Y.K. who dies before the next Y.K. responsible. I'm not so bothered if the details of derush don't match the halacha 100%, but see the notes in the Gan Ravah which discusses this.)

Another example: The gemara (Brachos 10) tells us that Brurya told her husband, R’ Meir, that rather than pray for the demise of the sinners in the neighborhood, he should daven that they do teshuvah.

Question: Hakol b’yedei shamayim chutz m’yiras shamayim – commitment and belief must be arrived at through free will, bechira chofshis. How then can one person’s tefilos influence whether another person will do teshuvah, will do aveiros or mitzvos?

There are two basic approaches to the issue:

1) Tefilah has an indirect effect. Most of the meforshim I have seen take this approach. Bechira does not take place in a vacuum. There are always obstacles which prevent us from being truly free to make any choices we like. Temptation, a lack of ability to focus on what is important, jobs and stress which sap energy and concentration all tilt the scale. Another person’s tefilah cannot cause me to choose to do the right thing, but it can cause Hashem to remove some of the obstacles that might be preventing me from framing the issue properly and being truly free to choose.

2) Tefilah has a direct effect. This approach is developed by R’ Dessler in Michtav m’Eliyahu. Every cheit in effect is a chilul Hashem, as it minimizes Hashem’s glory in the world. Onesh is not punitive or vindictive, but rather is meant to restore that glory to its proper place by showing that those who act improperly suffer consequences. But what if Hashem’s glory could be restored in some other way? That’s exactly what happens when someone else is inspired to daven for a chotei. Instead of sin desecrating G-d’s name, sin becomes a vehicle for people to draw close to Hashem.

There seems to be differences in the way this idea is presented in different essays in Michtav. In my simplified version the chotei escapes punishment because the chilul Hashem he/she caused is rectified in some other way, namely by arousing tefilos of others. In other places R’Dessler seems to stress that tefilah must also impact the chotei. By becoming aware that he/she has served as an inspiration to tefilah, the chotei him/herself is inspired to do better. In yet other places Michtav relates this idea to his concept of nekudas habechira. We do not actively engage in choosing every action we do. Most of what we do is by rote and habit – e.g. I did not really have to exercise my bechira chofshis in deciding not to eat treif for lunch today. On the other hand, someone who is used to eating a Big Mac for lunch and then becomes a ba’al teshuvah may really have to exercise bechira and choose to not go down that road again. Which situations require active bechira varies by person. Somehow tefilah can change someone's nekudas habechira so they are not forces to choose how to act in scenarios that might trip them up. I’m not clear on how this works or how it fits together with the other points R' Dessler makes.

Along similar lines as this topic, Chassidishe seforim in many places mention that a tzadik has the power to elevate tefilos of others even where those tefilos are inadequate or would otherwise be rejected (one example: see Tiferes Shlomo, Parshas Pinchas, on “Vayakreiv Moshe es mishpatan…:) I don’t fully understand how this works. How can someone else help my tefilos do their job if the words are undeserving? Maybe somebody can explain it.

the mitzvah of not surrounding the enemy

1. The Sifri darshens that when Bnei Yisrael waged war on Midyan they were told to not surround the Midyanim, but to leave one side open for escape. A surrounded enemy is a hopeless enemy and a far more dangerous enemy – the Torah doesn’t want us to wage war this way. Ramban counts the command to fight in this way, “Vayitzbe’u al Midyan,” as separate mitzvas aseh; Rambam does not. Meshech Chochma explains that the Rambam held that this din is just a detail that falls under the broader mitzvah category of waging milchemes mitzvah.

Yesterday we discussed the chiddush of the Rogatchover that the battle against Midyan was not technically a milchama, but rather was an act of nekama. Perhaps the machlokes Rambam/Ramban hinges on that chakira. Rambam's view (as understood by the Meshech Chocma) makes sense if one assumes the battle with Midyan was a war like any other war, and therefore falls under the umbrella of milchemes mitzvah. Ramban may have disagreed because he understood the fight with Midyan as nekama, a distinct and separate category from normal warfare.

(It is still a bit difficult according to Ramban why the mitzvah given in the context of nekama should apply to other war situations as well. It seems Ramban understood that the mitzvah relates to the act of fighting, irrespective of whether that act takes place in the context of nekama or milchama.)

2. Rav Shteinman in his sefer on chumash raises the question (link) of whether a bracha was recited over killing the men of Midyan (or over killing Amalek). It sounds from his wording that his safeik was only with regard to the killing of Midyanites in particular, which he compares to misas Beis Din, but not to war in general. Again this reinforces the notion that the parsha of nekama is a unique category.

the battle against Midyan: war or kinetic military nekama?

1. I have to thank Havolim for mentioning a beautiful sevara of the Rogatchover that I otherwise might have missed. The Rogatchover notes that the Torah characterizes the fight against Midyan as an act of nekama, not a war. Placing this battle in its own halachic category explains a number of its unique characteristics:

a) On Shabbos I saw the Taz quotes a Tzeror haMor who holds there was no heter to take a yefat to'ar during this war. Tos' (Shabbos 65, also quoted in the Da'as Zekeinim al haTorah) asks why the generals were concerned lest the soldiers had sinned with hirhurei avirah -- if actually taking a yefat to'ar in battle was permitted, how could hirhur of the same be prohibited? The Tzeror haMor's approach renders this question moot. Tosfos is forced to answer that the concern was for the women who were exceptions to the rule of yefat to'ar and could not be taken.

The Taz assumes that the Tzeror haMor held there was no heter of yefat to'ar for wars waged outside Eretz Yisrael and he marshals proof otherwise. However, based on the Rogatchover one could suggest a different justification for the Tzeror haMor’s view: the battle against Midyan was not a war, but rather was an act of nekama.

(Parenthetically, from a mussar perspective it makes perfect sense that there be no heter of yefat to'ar here. The troubles with Midyan started because of the enticement of znus -- would it make sense to allow the same situation to develop? On the other hand, chassidishe seforim argue just the opposite -- the reason the soldiers at first let the women live was to prove their ability to overcome the yetzer ha'ra that had previously possessed them and do teshuvah gemurah.)

b) Ramban asks why the Torah teaches the halachos of kashering and toiveling only after the war with Midyan and not earlier, after the wars against Sichon v'Og. He answers by quoting the gemara in Chulin (17) that katli d'chaziri was permitted during wars of kibush v'chiluk -- chazir was allowed to be eaten during the wars of conquest of Eretz Yisrael. The wars against Sichon v'Og were wars of conquest, for the purpose of obtaining territory; the war against Midyan was not. Based on the Rogatchover, one can draw an even sharper distinction -- the war against Midyan wasn't a war at all.

Current events sheds some light on why some people are averse to the use (or overuse) of lomdus like this. Does calling something a "kinetic military action" (Pres. Obama's description of what we are doing in Libya) make it any less of a war than it otherwise would be? Does calling a battle an act of nekama instead of milchama change reality? Does a rose by any other name.... I love lomdus like this, but I can see why it would drive some people crazy.

2) M'inyan l'inyan -- Why did Reuvain and Gad wait until after the battle with Midyan to request that they be given the land of Sichon v'Og? Why didn't they make this request immediately after the defeat of Sichon and Og? Chasam Sofer answers that the assumption of Reuvain and Gad was that the land of Sichon v'Og was distinct from Eretz Yisrael. It was the halachic contrast between the war with Midyan and the war with Sichon v'Og which taught them otherwise. As Ramban explains, the war with Sichon v'Og was a war of kibbush; the war with Midyan was not. Once it became clear that the land of Sichon v'Og was included in the mitzvah of kibush ha'aretz, Reuvain and Gad reasoned that it is no worse than Eretz Yisrael proper from a nachala perspective.

3) Last week we touched on the question of why the generals did not step forward with their gifts to the Mishkan for the sake of a kapparah on hirhur immedately after the war ended -- why did they wait? Some of the meforshim explain that it was hearing the parsha of kasheing kelim which made them recognize the need for kapparah. A kli can be completely clean from ma'achalos asurus, yet it still needs to be kashered. It's not just mamashus of issur which is a problem, but it is also that which is absorbed, that which lies unseen below the surface, which is halachically dangerous. The generals realized that even if the army was innocent of any mamashus of aveirah, the thoughts that lurked below the surface might have a ta'am issur that needed kashering.

tefilah and the war with Midyan

1. When Moshe Rabeinu criticizes those who fought against Midyan for leaving alive the women, he poses his criticism as a question to them – “Ha’chiyisem kol nekeivah?” To be fair, I could punctuate that sentence a little differently and end it with a !? or a ?! instead of a plain ?, but the point is that Moshe could have omitted the ? entirely and used just a ! How about something like this – “Hamisu kol nekeivah!”

I had a moment before ma’ariv after the ta’anis and saw a beautiful vort in the Divrei Chaim (the real one). We know that the difference between teshuvah m’yirah and teshuvah m’ahava is the latter turns aveiros into zechuyos while the former does not. Moshe Rabeinu threw in the ? because ain hachi nami, through teshuvah m’ahavah the very same women that were the source of aveirah could have been spared. Rather than be a source of cheit or a reminder of cheit, they would have been a source of zechuyos.

2. On the topic of the war against Midyan, see Havolim who writes about the need to couple military might with tefilah. Contemporary gedolim have encouraged each person to adopt an individual soldier to daven for. I want to share with an insight of the Maor vaShemesh on the same theme.

After the battle and Moshe's collection of a percentage of the spoils both from those who fought and those who stayed behind and shared in the booty, the leaders of Bnei Yisrael came to Moshe and wanted to contribute additional spoils of the war to the Mishkan. Ramban quotes the Midrash that the purpose of this gift was as an act of contrition, to obtain kapparah. Although there were no overt sins committed in the war, the leaders were concerned for hirhurei aveirah, lest the people sinned in thought even if not in deed.

Why did the leaders wait until after Moshe collected the "tax" from the spoils? If indeed they were worried lest they had sinned, should they not have stepped forward immediately after the battle finished?

I don't want to get involved in the nitty-gritty of his explanation (the Maor vaShemesh loves remazim and gematriyos, topics that don't lend themselves well to blog posts/translation), but the general idea of the Maor vaShemesh is that the collection of a portion of the spoils as a "tax" for the kohanim was a hint to the people that they did not deserve to fully enjoy the spoils of war. There was something slightly off in their avodas Hashem during the war, and hence something slight they had to forfeit from the booty. Once the people realized the significance of their having to surrender a portion of their booty, the leaders stepped forward to make amends in a sincere way and offered an additional gift.

But why did those who stayed behind in the camp have to surrender a portion of their booty as a "tax"? They were not exposed to the heat of battle or the women in the camp of Midyan -- surely they were not guilty of any wrongdoing either in deed or even in thought?!

The answer is that those who stayed behind had an important job to fulfill -- it was their responsibility to daven for those who went to fight on the front lines. If those in battle were guilty of wrongdoing, even hirhurei aveirah, it meant that those who stayed behind were guilty as well of not properly fulfilling their mission of davening to protect the troops. An amazing idea -- I can share responsibility for anothers' wrongdoing because I didn't daven hard enough for him!

How another person's tefilos can effect my ruchniyus (what about my bechirah?) is an interesting philosophical question, but sof kol sof that's how things work. The lesson here is that the spiritual ailments of others are our ailments as well, for it is our Torah and our tefilos that are falling short in serving as a shield to protect our community from spiritual harm. You don't need to wait for a war either to daven for another Jew.

eye of the tiger

One of the most enjoyable books I read recently is Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. Chua, a professor at Yale, describes how she constantly pushed her two daughters to overachieve by being what others might describe as an overbearing, relentlessly authoritarian parent. Chua sees her own demanding expectations as a product of her Chinese upbringing, which she contrasts with American cultural expectations that allow children to slack off and to do as they please.

Chua takes things to an extreme (read the book), but I sympathize with her position, in part because my parents raised me the same way. A 95 on a test meant 5 points were missing.

To take an example from another great book I recently read, in Start Up Nation: The Story of Israel's Econimoc Miracle (p.124), the following description of a visit to an Israeli high school is recounted:

The Google founders strode into the hall an the crowd roared. The students could not believe their eyes, "Sergey Brin and Larry Page... in our high school!" one of the students proudly recalled. What had brought the world's most famous tech duo to this Israeli high school, of all places?

The answer came as soon as Sergey Brin spoke. “Ladies and gentleman, girls and boys,” he said in Russian, his choice of language prompting spontaneous applause. “I emigrated from Russia when I was six, “ Brin continued. “I went to the United States. Similar to you, I have standard Russian-J parents. My dad is a math professor. They have a certain attitude about studies. And I think I can relate that here, because I was told that your school recently got seven out of the top ten places in a math competition throughout all Israel.”

This time the students clapped for their own achievement. “But what I have to say,” Brin continued, cutting through the applause, “is what my father would say – ‘What about the other three?’"

You betcha this type of approach is outside the norm these days. I heard a H.S. principal once describe his talmidim as “pampered” – I cannot think of a better word. Parents are afraid of pushing, teachers are afraid of pushing, as a community we are afraid of pushing. After all, look at all the kids that went off the derech – they must have been pushed too hard, right? Look at how many people hate going to shul – it’s all because the candyman did not given them an extra lollipop and a pat on the head. (Yes, I’m painting a caricature, but you get the idea).

When you read stories of the "greatest" generation, the common theme is pushing to do more. You had to -- who wanted to spend the rest of life in a slum, a ghetto, or worse? Who wants hardship and poverty? So you claw your way out, build a better life. But what's there to motivate you if you start with that better life to begin with?

My son's Rebbe once told the shiur about an amazing peirush on the Yerushalmi written in Siberia, of all places. Look what can be accomplished in the bleakest of bleak conditions if one has drive! And in America, concluded my son's Rebbe, what have we produced? -- Artscroll.

I think we, the Jewish people, used to have that tiger attitude. Forget the Torah giants of the past -- look at what we have contributed to the secular world in every field. But sadly, that attitude is quickly being lost. There is a pervasive attitude that scamming the system, getting something for nothing, cutting corners, is the way to go, and hard work is just not worth it or foolish.

What date is the fast of 17 Tamuz?

The title of this post may sound something like, “What color is George Washington’s white horse?” but things are not so simple.

תניא אמר ר"ש ארבעה דברים היה ר"ע דורש ואני אין דורש כמותו צום הרביעי זה ט' בתמוז שבו הובקעה העיר שנאמר (ירמיהו נב) [בחודש הרביעי] בתשעה לחדש ויחזק הרעב בעיר ולא היה לחם לעם הארץ ותבקע העיר

One of the events which we commemorate in our fast is the breach of the wall of Yerushalayim. Yirmiyahu haNavi tells us that the breach did not occur on 17 Tamuz, but rather on 9 Tamuz. So why are we fasting on the 17^th? Why not hold the fast of 17 Tamuz on the 9^th?

There are two basic answers to this question:

1) The Rishonim (Tos R”H 18b, Ramban) explain that the breach of the city walls during churban bayis sheni occurred on the 17^th of the month. Since that churban was more severe than the first, we fast on the 17^th.

2) The Yerushalmi answers that in the confusion and panic leading up to the churban there was a mix up as to the dates. The city walls were breached on the 17^th, but the people thought it was only the 9^th.

It could be that these are simply two equally viable alternatives, but it could also be that there is a point of machlokes underlying the answers. Perhaps the Yerushalmi was not convinced that the second churban was more severe than the first, or, if it was (a more plausible assumption so as to avoid making a machlokes in metziyus), that is perhaps insufficient license to warrant changing the date of the fast. It seems from the language of the Rishonim that this latter point bothered them. In explaining why we fast on the 17^th instead of the date of the 9^th that the Navi refers to, Ramban adds a justification for moving the date – since the point of the original fast was to commemorate the breach of the city walls, if that event historically moved to a different date during the second churban, the fast should move as well. According to Ramban the reason for the fast defines its date, its parameters. It could be that this is the sticking point for the Yerushalmi. Whenever one speaks of a takanah derabbanan, the reason for the law’s institution does not always match or define its parameters. This is why, for example, even when the reason behind a takanah is no longer relevant, in many cases the law remains in effect (as GR”A assumes in many places). One could argue that even if the date of 9 Tamuz no longer makes sense, if the ta’anis was instituted on 9 Av, that date should remain binding. Therefore, the Yerushalmi learns that even during churban bayis rishon, the true date of the fast was 17 Tamuz.

crass

I try to avoid editorializing about the blatant stupidity that surrounds us in the world because (and you may think this is overly cynical) I could write 24 x 6 and still not exhaust all that could be said and, besides, no one is paying attention to my 2 cents anyway. However, every now and then there comes along the item that stands out as taking things down to yet a lower level than you even thought possible.

Not just the Boro Park community, but the Jewish community as a whole has been moved by the tragic killing of a child abducted on his way from home from camp. Someone forwarded to my wife an e-mail from an organization sent this week, while the family is still in shiva, while we are all trying to digest this event, claiming that this tragedy (and others) was caused by a laxity in certain areas of halacha which this organization therefore has pledged its efforts to remedy. Of course, this effort is only possible with your financial support. With a big picture of the murdered child attached to elicit sympathy, the e-mail makes it pitch for your pledge.

I don't even want to discuss whether anyone can claim understanding of why Hashem would allow a child's life to be taken. To advertise in this way is not a philosophical or theological affront -- it is simply vulgar and crass. It's not a matter of a warped sense of Torah values, but a matter of a complete lack of derech eretz and common decency.

Just when you thought things had hit bottom, along comes an e-mail like this and takes things down yet another level. What's next?

second nature

The Torah opens Parshas Pinchas by telling us Pinchas’ lineage: Pinchas ben Elazar ben Aharon haKohen. Rashi explains that Pinchas was being belittled for being the mere grandson of an oveid avodah zarah (Yisro) who dared kill a Nasi; therefore, the Torah stresses his connection to Aharon.

What good did it do for the Torah to repeat who Pinchas’ father and paternal grandfather was? Surely everyone already knew this information and it did not stop the criticism!

R’ Meir Shapiro, the Lubliner Rav, explains as follows: There are people who do certain mitzvos because it is in their nature. A person may be by temperament inclined to help others; he/she will gravitate towards doing chessed. Another person may have an intellectual streak and gravitate toward learning. The reward these people receive for their mitzvos does not compare to the reward of those who must fight against their nature to do the same actions, e.g. the weak student who spends hours pouring over a gemara; the person who in introverted or who prefers to keep to himself who goes out of his way to help others.

The shevatim knew that what Pinchas had done was right, but they downplayed his accomplishment. “It was in his nature,” they said, because what else would you expect from the grandson of an oveid avodah zarah. The Torah therefore tells us that Pinchas' character was akin to his grandfather Aharon haKohen, the great rodef shalom. He had to overcome his natural instincts to act with zealotry, and he therefore deserved the great reward Hashem bestowed upon him.

shema and its brachos

The Rambam paskens that when faced with a sfeika d’oraysa requiring that a mitzvah be done over, the bracha associated with the mitzvah is not recited (Hil Sukkah 6:13). The logic here is that the safeik regarding the mitzvah and the safeik regarding the bracha are two separate issues. The requirement to recite a bracha is a sfeika derabbanan, and the rule of sfeika derabbanan l’kula applies. The safeik with respect to the mitzvah itself is a sfeika d'orasya.

The exception to the rule is kri’as shema, where the Rambam paskens (Hil K.S. 2:13) that if shema must be repeated because of a safeik, birchos kria’as shema are repeated as well. The Rashba already explains that the Rambam understood that when Chazal formulated the requirement to recite birchos kri’as shema, they did so not as a separate din, but as part and parcel of the kiyum mitzvah of kri’as shema. Reciting shema without its associated brachos is an incomplete fulfillment of mitzvas kri’as shema.

This is one of the proofs of R’ Chaim Brisker (see R' Genack's sefer "Gan Shoshanim" siman 1) that it is preferable to daven b’yechidus rather than to daven in a minyan that will miss sof zman kri’as shema (Biur Halacha siman 235 quotes GR”A that the same applies even to ma’ariv). Even if you recite shema within the zman before davening, it doesn’t help, because the mitzvah of shema is lacking so long as it is not recited in the context of birchos k"s.

In NY the zman has been hovering around the 9:10-9:15 area for the past few weeks, guaranteeing that those who start davening at 9:00 would miss it, and those who start at 8:45 would make it only b'koshi. It will be getting later over the next few weeks.

Pinchas, Nadav and Avihu

Rav Zalman Sorotzkin in his Oznayaim laTorah writes (based on Chazal) that when Pinchas killed Zimri, the tribe of Shimon was ready to pounce on Pinchas and attack him. A miracle happened -- Pinchas’s neshoma departed and he appeared dead, thus escaping their wrath. R' Sorotzkin quotes that mekubalim teach that when revived, rather than Pinchas' own neshoma returning to his body, the neshomos of Nadav and Avihu descended instead.

Why davka the neshomos of Nadav and Avihu? What do they have to do with the story? Obviously when dealing with sisrei Torah there are limits to what we can understand, but R’ Sorotzkin reveals at least some of the surface meaning. The sin of Nadav and Avihu was that they were “moreh halacha bifnei rabam.” Rav Sorotzkin explains that Nadav and Avihu desired an even greater hisgalus of Hashem than could be provided by their rebbe, Moshe Rabeinu. The gemara (Brachos 7) relates that Hashem wanted to reveal everything to Moshe when He appeared at the burning bush. Moshe, however, turned away; he felt he was not yet ready for such a revelation. Later, at mattan Torah, Moshe regretted his decision and begged Hashem, “Hodi’eini na es derachecha.” Hashem responded, “When I was ready you refused; now that you are ready I am not.” Nadav and Avihu understood that was a limit even to what Moshe apprehended – Moshe forever suffered the shortcoming of having turned away at the sneh. That level of full understanding was what they aspired to. That’s why they tried to offer ktores in the kodesh kodashim even without instruction or advice from their rebbe, Moshe. In that respect, they jumped beyond what they were ready for.

Remember the end of last week’s parsha: Zimri approached Moshe with Kozbi and challenged Moshe to stop him. Moshe froze – “nisalma mi’menu halacha.” It was Pinchas who reminded Moshe of the din of “kana’im pog’im bo,” and who carried out that halacha. Pinchas at that moment had the clarity to see and act when even Moshe Rabeinu himself was unable to. Nadav and Avihu’s desire to surpass their rebbe may have gone awry in their lifetime, but the spirit of their actions, the ability to transcend even Moshe Rabeinu, was fulfilled a generation later through the actions of Pinchas.

(Side point: Rashi in our parsha writes that Moshe’s not knowing the halacha of yerusha when asked by the Bnos Tzelofchad was a punishment for his declaring that all difficult shaylos should be brought to him. Why does Rashi not bring up this punishment at the end of P’ Balak where we learn that Moshe forgot the din of “kana’im pogim bo”? In both cases Rashi uses the term, "nisalma mi'menu halacha.")

the economics of orthodoxy

Yesterday one of my daughters was looking at the price of camps and even she, who has a teenager's sense of economy, was amazed at the price tags of some of the more well known "modern orthodox" (I don't like to use labels, but I don't have any pejorative meaning in mind here) camps. When you add up $22,000 in tuition, which is what some of the modern schools in my neck of the woods are charging, and another $8000+ in camp costs, you have blown through $30,000 before you even clothe and feed your teenager. How can people afford this? It boggles my mind. Maybe I should credit the modern orthodox community for their ideological commitment in being moseir nefesh to send to their own schools and camps that cost far in excess of what comparables in the "yeshiva world" cost. Even on the smaller scale of day camp, my youngest (10 years old) is attending a camp that costs less than $1000 for the entire summer while a neighbor sends to a summer day camp run by a modern school that charges $3000 a summer. I guess if you can afford it, why not, but I really don't see how a little kid's summer enjoyment is worth treble the price.

Of course, it's only fair to compare apples to apples. My son's yeshiva, for example, costs far less than a typical modern Hebrew academy style high school, but it does not offer a foreign language class; there is no art class; there is no music class; there is no mandatory gym period; there are only a few AP classes (which is a notch above most "yeshivishe" places that offer none). He will in all likelihood never be accepted to Harvard without those extras, but he has no aspiration to go to college, much less an Ivy league school. He has an adequate education (English, math, history, science) to attend CUNY or some other mid-tier school if he desires, and for us, that's good enough. The trade off (which we are happy making) is that his learning is far above and beyond the level that he would have gotten out of any modern orthodox high school program.

But what do those extras really get you? In June I remember reading in some of the local papers the list of college programs some of the modern yeshivos were advertising that their graduates would be attending, and there were lots of CUNY and SUNY names in the mix. Don't get me wrong -- I think you can get a perfectly good education at a city or state university, but you can also get into those schools without three years of French and without being able to recognize a Beethovan symphony. What's the point of paying tens of thousands of dollars more than your "yeshivishe" neighbor to send your kid to a high school that offers a "better" secular education if your kid ends up in Queens or Brooklyn College or even YU? And please don't tell me it's all lishma, knowledge for it's own sake -- you can get that at the public library.

The yeshiva world has its own economic problems -- it's ludicrous to think that everyone can learn in kollel for extended periods of time with no one paying the price -- but the grass is economically no greener on the side of the fence.

walk, don't run

A host of meforshim comment on and struggle to understanding how Hashem could first tell Bilam not to go with the messengers of Balak, then OK his going, and then get angry that he went.

Rashi (on "ki holeich hu") implies that Hashem's anger was directed not at Bilam's going with the messengers, but at the fact that "nisavah la'leches," he was consumed by the desire to go (see Seforno, Rashbam as well), he acted like a ba'al tayva about it. If I had to sum up Rashi in a nutshell, I would say that Bilam's actions here reveal him to be a mumar l'teyavon, he had a tayva for evil, he wasn't just a mumar l'hachis, someone intellectually or philosophically misguided. Hashem's response to Bilam's request essentially was, "Nebach, if you want to go, then go." It didn't call for his jumping out of bed first thing in the morning to get an early start, his skipping along the road and whistling a happy tune while travelling. By way of analogy, in our neighborhood on ta'aneisim we have restaurants galore open. One of one of my wife's pet peeves is the fact that these places are far from starving for business on those days; for some people, there is no sense of embarrassment in having a lunch on a ta'anis. The halacha certainly allows people to eat for various reasons, but if you have to do so, do it b'tzin'ah, privately -- don't parade down main street sipping your Starbucks ice coffee.

The gemara (San. 102b) tells us that Rav Ashi once gave a shiur and mentioned "Menashe, our friend." That night King Menashe appeared to him in a dream, upset at Rav Ashi for having called him "friend," as if they were equals. "Had you been alive when I was," said Menashe, "Not only would you have worshipped avodah zarah, but you would have lifted the tails of your bekeshe so you could run after it faster."

Maharal explains that there are two types of sinners. There are those who sin, but who know what they are doing is wrong. They are aware of their own weakness,and therefore try their best to avoid situations that they know will lead to trouble. The drunk knows that if he walks home past the pub, he may not make it home, so he looks for reasons to take a different route. He welcomes getting a ride from a friend, he welcomes when they are doing construction on that road and he is forced to head some other way. True, many times he winds up in the pub, but if there is an obstacle in his way, he breathes a sigh of relief. Not so the person so caught up in aveiros that he doesn't even see that what is is doing is wrong. Not only does not not welcome obstacles, he does everything in his power to remove them.

Menashe was telling Rav Ashi -- I knew what I was doing was wrong; I at least let down the tails of my bekeshe in the hope that maybe I would trip myself up and thwart myself at least temporarily from that avodah zarah. Had you been there, aderaba, you would have not even have tried to stop yourself.

Bilam perhaps can't be blamed for going to Balak, but why did he have to lift up the tails of his bekeshe and run to get there?

The Alter of Slabodka is quoted as saying that mussar may not stop someone from doing wrong, but they will certainly enjoy the aveirah less. The story of Bilam tells us that this isn't just stam a vort, but there is real truth to it -- there is a din v'cheshbon on hana'ah aside from the act itself.

There are many other views in the Rishonim and Achronim to explain what appears to be a change of mind by Hashem and what Bilam did wrong. Ramban suggests that Bilam should have made clear that his going was conditional on his speaking only the words Hashem allowed. His not mentioning that stipulation gave the perception that he had been given free reign by Hashem to curse Bnei Yisrael, creating a chilul Hashem. Ibn Ezra seems to deny the problem completely -- Bilam is punished for going even though Hashem granted permission. Hashem grants free will and allowed Bilam to go in spite of his (Hashem's) disapproval. However, Bilam suffers the consequences of his own choice. (Ibn Ezra quotes another interesting answer from Sad Gaon -- take a look.) Many meforshim contrast Hashem's directive to go "itam," with the messengers, but with a separate agenda, with Bilam's going "imam," along with them, sharing the same agenda.

The Sefas Emes (as usual) has a very striking and original approach. After Hashem's denial of his first request to go, Bilam is contrite. He tells the messengers of Balak that he is powerless to go against Hashem's wishes. However, he begs them to remain another night lest things change. And things do -- Hashem grants his wish to go. What caused the difference in response? Sefas Emes explains that it was Bilam's acknowledgement of his own smallness -- his hisbatlus! Don't we ask in our tefilos for Hashem to change from midas hadin to midas harachamim? As many explain, Hashem doesn't change -- we change. Bilam changed as well -- at least for the moment,he acknowledged his own limitations. The problem is that he did so temporarily, and only as a means to advance his own agenda.

If a rasha like Bilam could advanced his own agenda by, at least for a moment, acknowledging his own nothingness, kal v'chomer what we could achieve if we internalized the feeling of hisbatlus k'lapei shemaya.

splitting hairs

The Rambam paskens (Ishus 2:16) with respect to the halacha of the two hairs that define gadlus:

שתי שערות האמורות בבן ובבת, ובכל מקום--שיעורן כדי לכוף ראשן לעיקרן. ומשיצמחו ויהיו יכולות להינטל בפי הזוג, עד שיגיעו לכוף ראשן לעיקרן--דנין בהן להחמיר, בכל מקום: לפיכך בבן ובבת, נחשוב אותם גדולים להחמיר, הואיל וצמחו כדי להינטל בפי הזוג; ונחשוב אותם קטנים להחמיר, הואיל ולא הגיעו לכוף ראשן לעיקרן.

There are different opinions of Tanaim as to the minimum length which defines a hair. The Rambam writes that we adopt the chumros of all views. So long as the hair is long enough to be cut, we treat the child as a gadol l'hachmir. However, until the hairs are long enough to bend over back to their root, we do not allow for any of the leniencies of being a gadol.

Yet, the Rambam writes with respect to Parah Adumah (1:4):

היו בה שתי שערות עיקרן מאדים וראשן משחיר, עיקרן משחיר וראשן מאדים--הכול הולך אחר העיקר; וגוזז במספריים את ראשן המשחיר, ואינו חושש משום גיזה בקודשים--שאין כוונתו לגזוז.

וצריך שיישאר מן המאדים, כדי שתינטל בזוג--שכל שערה שאינה ניטלת בזוג, הרי היא כאילו אינה; לפיכך אם היו בה שתי שערות לבנות או שחורות, שאינן נלקטין בזוג--הרי זו כשרה.

So long as the root of the hair of a cow is red, the hair is treated as red even if the top is black. How much of the hair has to be red to call it a red hair? The Rambam writes so long as it is long enough to be cut.

The Kesef Mishneh asks: Since the Rambam follows the stringencies of all views when it comes to defining a hair, shouldn't the Rambam pasken that until the hair is long enough to fold over back to its root, it is not called a red hair? Why is the Rambam lenient here and allow a hair to count as red even if it is just long enough to be cut?

R' Chaim Brisker has an answer to this question, but I would rather share R' Shach's answer (Avi Ezri, Hil Ishus) which is similar, but slightly easier to understand and a lot easier to write over : ) The difference between the two cases is that when it comes to defining adulthood, the presence or absence of hair is the key criteria; the Rambam in that case defines a precise strict shiur of what defines hair. Not so when it comes to parah adumah. There, the key criteria is redness. The presence or absence of hair is just a means of measuring the presence or absence of redness, but is not a defining feature in and of itself. A hair long enough to be cut but not long enough to bend back over may be a hair of insufficient length to define gadlus, but that does not mean it is anything other than a hair and its color is anything other than red.

R' Pinchas ben Yair's donkey

Today's daf (Chulin 7) tells the famous story of the donkey of R' Pinchas ben Yair that would not eat dmai. The gemara asks: We learned in the Mishna (Dmai 1:3) that animal food is exempt from dmai -- why would the donkey not eat? The gemara answers that the food was purchased fo human consumption and was therefore obligated to be treated as dmai. Only food originally set aside for use as animal food is exempt.

The Yerushalmi gives a different answer (Dmai 1:3; 4a in the Vilna edition). According to the Yerushalmi, R' Pinchas ben Yair said, "What do you want from me -- my donkey is a frummie."

Moral of the story: one can be a frummie and still be a donkey.