who broke the mold?

You know world has forgotten you when you don’t even get your own Wikipedia entry.  R’ Moshe Avigdor Amiel, who I mentioned yesterday, was a man of towering intellectual ability, a lamdan, a Zionist leader, a great darshan, yet he is probably known today only in the YU world because he beat out R’ Soloveitchik for the post of Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv.  Wikipedia only gives him a short mention under the history of the Jewish community in Antwerp, where he first served as Rav.  I have to raise a general question that has long bothered me.  What happened to all the people like this?  When was the mold broken?  We don't even remember that people like this existed, much less seek to emulate them.  How did that happen?  Forget all the lomdus in his Midos l’Cheiker HaHalacha.  Forget the beautiful derashos collected in his Dershos El Ami.  I am sure you can list other great lamdamin and darshanim.  But how many of those people can also discuss machlokesin between Decartes and Kant and quote Ahad ha’Am (as Rav Amiel does in his sefer L’Nevochai HaTekufa)?  What has driven gedolim who have a broad and deep knowledge of the outside world into extinction? 
 

Those in the YU world will point to the Rav and R’ Ahron Lichtenstein as comparable role models, which is true, but these figures are also a generation or two removed from the present.  So different people, same question – What caused this sea change?  I don’t think these people were aberrations, completely outside the norm.  Their abilities were/are surely exceptional, but that is a different in kamus, not eichus.  I remember someone telling me that he once had the privlilge in Eretz Yisrael of giving a ride to a gadol of the previous dor and he was amazed when his passenger began to recite poety of Bialik b'al peh from the back seat.  Today, you have stories about gedolim who (as I saw mentioned in a book I thumbed through at the seforim store) don’t even know what a food processor is, and this is held up as an example to admire and emulate.  It’s not that ignorance is accepted because we can’t do better – it’s that ignorance has become an ideal because we don’t want to do better.

My wife thinks that things are as they are as a reaction to the Holocaust, which created a distrust of outside culture in any form that lingers to this day.  Western thought has proven itself a poor moral bulwark against the forces of evil, and so we have withdrawn inward.  Perhaps such withdrawal was necessary, as we struggled to rebuild what was lost.  If you would like to put a positive spin on it, perhaps the rise of the State of Israel has inspired renewed interest in uniquely Jewish poetry, writing, and culture, to the exclusion of outside ideas.  My own thought is that the Chassidic movement has had an enormous post-war influence that has reshaped our expectations.  Talmidei chachamim these days are expected to be like Rebbes, not intellectuals.  People want brachos and segulos, not to be challenged with Kant. 

All this is armchair speculation.  Bottom line is that the memory of what once was is fading and is being replaced by a less enlightened and less interesting world. 

Rambam/Ra'avad on the Corporeality of G-d

Rav Moshe Avigdor Amiel in his sefer "L’Nevochei HaTekufa" writes that there are two different ways that one can come to recognize G-d: 1) Yediya - philosophical speculation; 2) Hakara – intuitive recognition.  Chazal tell us that Avraham was three years old (according to one view) when “hikir es Bor’o,” he recognized his Creator -- it does not say “yada es Bor’o,” but rather hikir,  because Chazal are not speaking of metaphysical knowledge (a three year old is not Aristotle); Chazal speaking of an intuitive grasp.  The philosophers apprehended G-d through yediya, and as a result, they perceived G-d as distant and removed; the prophets apprehended G-d through hakara, and therefore they perceived G-d as close and intertwined with their lives.

Rambam and Ra’avad famously disagree as to whether someone who believes in the corporeality of G-d is an apikores.  The Rambam writes (Hil Teshuvah ch 3) that someone who thinks that G-d has a body or a form is a heretic.  Ra’avad sharply retorts that wiser and greater people than the Rambam have entertained such a belief based on their simple reading of the Biblical text; therefore, it cannot be categorized as heresy.  (The Ra’avad’s response is not a logical argument or based on a sugya of gemara, but rather sounds like a simple appeal to authority – "Rambam, you must be wrong because greater people than yourself thought differently.")  What is the point of disagreement between the two opinions? 

R’ Chaim Brisker is said to have explained that the machlokes revolves around whether there is a din apikores b’shogeg.  The Ra’avad does not mean that one can accept that G-d has a body; he simply is arguing that people who arrive at such a belief inadvertently, based on their mistaken reading of Tanach, cannot be called guilty of willful heresy.  The Rambam, on the other hand, held that “nebech an apikores,” someone who is arrives at wrong beliefs simply out of ignorance, is still an apikores. 

R’ Amiel takes a different approach entirely, and here’s a link to the page for you to see inside and maybe help me understand it.  He sees the Rambam and Ra'avad's disagreement as based on this chiluk between yediya and hakara.  From the perspective of yediya, when wearing the hat of the philosopher, it is impossible to conceive of any relationship between G-d and bodily form.  However, when you look at things from the perspective of hakarah-intuition, the idea is not foreign at all.  To the contrary, it is precisely the fact that we feel G-d as immanent and present even within our selves, our bodies, that gives rise to hakara! 

 
If I understand him correctly, what Rav Amiel is suggesting that that the Ra’avad does not mean to defend the idea that c”v G-d has a bodily form.  What he is saying is that G-d can be felt as being immanent in a body, which is a different thing entirely.  If this is correct, I don’t understand why the Ra’avad is so sharply critical of the Rambam, as surely the Rambam would not disagree.  I also don't understand what the Ra’avad means when he argues that those who disagree with the Rambam were led down that road by their reading of “mikra.”  What does that have to do with the intuitive sense of G-d that comes from hakara?  Does  he mean to say that it is the perspective of the prophet, hakara, that the Tanach is built around, as opposed to the perspective of the philosopher, that is what gives rise to this view?  That seems a bit of a stretch…  I just don’t see how it fits the words.  I love Rav Amiel's writing, the chiluk between yediya and hakara is useful in many contexts, but am struggling here with the Rambam/Ra'avad connection.

Lo Sa'amod Al Dam Rei'echa

One of the explanations of the name “Adam” is that it is a combination of “aleph,” representing the “Alufo shel olam,” the singular presence of G-d, and “dam,” physical flesh and blood.
 
“Lo sa’amod al dam rei’echa..”  (VaYikra 19:16) The Torah is warning not to get hung up about the “dam” portion of our neighbors.  So what if that person does not look so pretty or walk and talk just like us?  “Ani Hashem,” the real essence of a person is the “aleph,” the portion of the “alufo shel olam” that is inside.  (Tiferes Shlomo)

Rashi and Ramban on Kedoshim Te'hiyu

1) Rashi interprets “kedoshim te’hiyu” to mean “perushim min ha’arayos u’min ha’aveira.”  Ramban argues that Rashi cannot be right, as his interpretation contradicts two derashos in the Toras Kohanim: 1) The T.K. explains  kedoshim to mean “perushim – stam,” not specifically connected to arayos; 2) The T.K. darshens, “Yachol kamoni – talmud lomar ‘Ani Hashem’,” that perhaps one would be obligated to be kadosh in the same sense G-d is, kah mashma lan “Ani Hashem,” that only “I am G-d” and you can never be the same.  Whatever that strange hava amina might mean, it certainly has nothing to do with separating from arayos, as that topic has no meaning when discussing imitating G-d. 

When I was learning this Ramban with my daughter on Shabbos, we defended Rashi by suggesting that the Toras Kohanim is a derash, but Rashi is concerned with peshuto shel mikra.  Rashi’s agenda here is to explain based on peshuto shel mikra the connection between “kedoshim” and the previous parsha that dealt with arayos.  The Toras Kohanim’s concern is developing through halachic derush the moral/halachic parameters of what the mitzvah of kedoshim entails.  Assuming this understanding of Rashi is correct, it begs the larger question of when (or even whether) Rashi concerns himself with explaining smichus haparshiyos and when he does not.  He does not, for example, try to piece together connections between the many mitzvos that open parshas kedoshim (as other meforshim do).  Be that as it may, what I still do not understand is if indeed Rashi is concerned only with the issue of smichus haparshiyos, why does he not just say kedoshim means “persuhim min ha’arayos” and leave it at that?  Why does he add the additional words “u’min ha’aveira?” 

2) On a different note: Aside from the categories of chovas hayachid and chovas hatzibur, mitzvos incumbent upon the individual and mitzvos incumbent upon the community as a whole, there exists a third category of mitzvos: a chovas ha’yachid that can be fulfilled only b’tzibur.  For example, the Ramban (Milchamos to first perek of Megilla) writes that although both the reading of megillah and the reading of the Torah must be done b’tzibur, there is a big difference between them.  Kir’as haTorah is incumbent on the tzibur as a whole; kri’as hamegillah is incumbent on the individual, but the reading done by the individual must take place in the presence of a tzibur.  (See this post). 

Chazal tell us that the mitzvah of kedoshim tehi’yu was said at a gathering of all of Klal Yisrael.  I would like to suggest that while there exists an obligation on every individual to try to infuse his/her life with kedusha, the Torah here is teaching that this mitzvah can only be fully achieved in the context of community – it is a chovas ha’yachid that must be done b’tzibur.  The hava amina of the Toras Kohanim, “yachol kamoni,” means to suggest that one might have thought that one can achieve kedusha by living in isolation; kah mashma lan the Torah Kohanim that this is impossible.  The path to kedusha lies through interaction with the community, growing with them, feeding off their energy, and contributing back to their growth and improvement.

peer review

According to Midrash the pasuk uses the singular tense, “VaYikchu ish machtaso…” in describing the actions of Nadav and Avihu because “lo natlu eitzeh zeh m’zeh,” they did not consult with each other.  As a result, they erred and were punished.  This seems a bit difficult to understand.  It's clear from the Midrash that each one of the Bnei Aharon independently reached the same conclusion and acted of his own volition (though see Netziv 10:1).  Wouldn’t their consulting with each other only reinforce their mistaken belief?  Apparently not.  Though they may have each initially reached the same conclusion, the process of opening their thinking to critique, even (or perhaps especially) to a sympathetic listener, would afford the opportunity to reflect further and realize the error.  

This critique of Nadav and Avihu shows the importance of peer review.  "Aseh lecha rav u'knei lecha chaveir," we read in Avos.  One of the meforshim explains that the Mishna uses the term "knei," to acquire [even if it costs money], when speaking of a friend and not when speaking about a Rav because the input of a peer is even more valuable than that of a Rav and should be pursued at all costs.  We are social creatures.  Our avodas Hashem flourishes when undertaken in collaboration, not by dint of individual effort alone.

chachamim, hiza'haru b'divreichem

Someone pointed out to me a post on a  shul website in which the rabbi  addressed the same Ramban I mentioned in Sunday’s post about the issue of tumas leida.  His approach was somewhat different, as his main takeaway from the Ramban was that his science was off, and this is the yotzei min haklal that is melamed al ha’klal just how mistaken Chazal and Rishonim can be.    

There are so many challenges facing Klal Yisrael these days.  So many people need chizuk in their shmiras hamitzvos, in their emunah, in their emunas chachamim, and I am speaking of our camp of ma’aminim – kal v’chomer so much more chizuk is needed by the vast majority of Klal Yisrael who are not ma'aminim and who will probably, if nothing is done, vanish as Jews within two or three generations due to assimilation and intermarriage.  So of all the lessons one can communicate about parshas hashavua that can inspire the audience to appreicate the greatness of our Torah heritage,  the message chosen is that Chazal make mistakes?!  Rachma litzlan m’hai da’ata!

Whether Chazal and/or Rishonim used outdated scientific models is beside the point.  It’s the obsession – not discussion, but obsession -- with pointing out the perceived shortcomings of our Sages which is the issue.  I don’t know about this particular Rabbi, but there are people who take this as their regular theme on their blogs and websites.  

We know from Pirkei Avos, for example, there is an idea “Hu haya omeir…. ,”there are teachings that individual Sages would constantly reiterate because they were so crucial.  For some people, the “hu haya omeir” of their writing and teaching is the fact that Chazal and Rishonim were in error.  They want to go down in history as the ones to correct the gravest threat facing yahadut today – that people give too much credence to Chazal (ha’levay).  It would be as if, to paraphrase the famous gemara in Shabbos of the ger who came to Hillel and asked to be taught the whole Torah on one foot, their whole Torah on one foot is, “Chazal and Rishonim made mistakes – everything else is commentary.” 

The Steipler in his Chayei Olam has a whole list of mareh mekomos, which is not exhaustive, about “nifla’os Chazal,” the wonder of our Sages.  He cites sources that show the extreme degree of piety of Chazal, the gadlus of their tefilah, the fact that had prophetic insight to some degree, etc.  This was the Chazal that the Steipler lived with.  It’s no wonder, given this appreciation of the wisdom of our sages, that he become the Steipler Gaon, admired for his own piety and learning.  If all you have to write and speak about is what a mistake this Rishon made or how silly that gemara sounds to our “sophisticated” modern mind, then is it any wonder that you are marginalized and are not a Steipler gaon?  Why would anyone listening to your message want to spend yomam v’layla, day and night, immersed in sha”s and poskim let alone committed to Torah and mitzvos if they felt that so much of the social, philosophical, scientific worldview of Chazal is anachronistic and chauvinistic?  Were that c”v what Chazal’s worldview amounted to, maybe it would make for an interesting academic study like history, but who would want to pledge “ki heim chayeinu” to that? 

Now, some will claim that these type articles are only a reaction to the move in the opposite direction by the right-wing world, where mesorah is viewed as infallible.  You would think from the attention that it is given on the internet that Rabbonim are literally forcing the hashkafa that Chazal are infallible down people’s throats day in and day out.  My personal experience has not borne this out.   The topic is simply a non-issue for most of the world of sitting and learning Torah.  The fact that certain people dwell on it only illustrates the disconnect between reality and the virtual reality they have created.

Of course the world has moved to the right.  But the (modern) orthodox world has moved to the left as well.  I don't recall seeing shiurim that the Rav critiqued views of Rishonim or Chazal.  I don't think R' Hershel Shachter harps on this topic, or do any of the other YU Roshei Yeshiva.  Yet, now in some quarters it is accepted as a given that modern orthodoxy accepts (not just tolerates, but celebrates) critical and historical approaches to talmud study, that ordination of women, aliyos, etc. are all in-play as topics to be debated, and the word "mesorah" is just a construct designed as a tool to preserve the hegemony of fundamentalist Rabbis over their followers but lacking in any real meaning.  

Does all this mean we should "hide" the truth?  Of course not.  But the truth is not discovered by reading one Ramban.  Read the Ramban al haTorah every week, study his chiddushim, sweat your way through a Milchamos, learn the Toras haAdam.  I can guarantee you the Ramban you talk about after that will be a different Ramban than a medieval Rabbi who didn't know science.  

the dual kedusha of Eretz Yisrael

Ramban (Tazri'a 13:47) writes that the punishment of tzara'as described in Parshas Tazri'a was a miraculous manifestation of Hashem's hashgacha, not a natural disease, and therefore, even though it is not a mitzvah hatelu'ya ba'aretz, it only occurred in Eretz Yisrael, the "nachalas Hashem," where Hashem's presence is most manifest. The Ramban continues and writes l'halacha that tumas tzara'as on houses did not apply until after the fourteen years of conquest and division of Eretz Yisrael by Yehoshua were completed.  If you stopped reading there you might guess that this din is related to the previous idea.  Since the kedushas ha'aretz was incomplete until after the fourteen years of kibush v'chiluk, as we see, for example, from the fact that terumos and ma'asros did not apply until after that fourteen year period, you might guess that the halachos of tumas tzara'as follow the same pattern and are absent when a full kedushas ha'aretz is absent.  But that's not what the Ramban says.  The reason nigei batim did not apply during those fourteen years is because to witness the hashgacha of Hashem in an open and revealed way requires having a tremendous degree of G-d consciousness.  You have to be thinking of G-d and aware of his presence to deserve to see its effects.  Such a high mental state of awareness is impossible while one is simultaneously engaged in fighting a war.  

A long time ago we discussed (here and here) Rav Soloveitchik's idea that there are two dinim in kedushas ha'aretz: 1) The sanctification of the land through conquest (by Yehoshua) or chazakah (by Ezra) on our part, which served to define the boundaries in which certain agricultural mitzvos and mitzvos hateluyos ba'aretz applied; 2) The sanctity of the land as that place chosen by G-d as special.  I think we see this distinction reflected in this Ramban.  Nigei batim apply only in Eretz Yisrael because of that second type of sanctity which the land has -- it is Hashem's chosen place -- irrespective of how and when we are mekadesh it through our efforts.  Therefore, the Ramban must invoke a psychological explanation as the basis for the din of nigei batim applying only after the fourteen years of kibush v'chiluk, as it has nothing to do with whether that first type of kedusha exists yet or doesn't.

Ibz Ezra (14:33) also writes that nigei batim only apply in Eretz Yisrael, but he explains the reason is because "godel ma'ales ha'aretz ki hamikdash b'tocham v'haKavod b'toch hamikdash."  I'm a little confused by his meaning.  Kedushas hamikdash and kedushas ha'aretz are two different things entirely.  Eretz Yisrael had kedusha even before there was a mikdash; according to the Rambam, even when kedushas ha'aretz was nullified, kedushas Yerushalayim, the makom mikdash, remained intact.  Why does Ibn Ezra need to invoke the importance of the mikdash as the place of Hashem's presence as a justification for the significance of Eretz Yisrael in this regard -- doesn't the kedushas ha'aretz stand as significant in its own right?  Perhaps he is simply giving a siman, not a sibah, i.e. the kedushas ha'aretz does have independent significance, and one indication that this is true is the fact that the land is the makom mikdash, where the Shechina is most manifest.  

I would probably have done this post anyway, but I made a point of putting it up now because I don't see how you can not spend 5 minutes tomorrow, 5 Iyar, not thinking about and pausing to appreciate the ideas of kedushas ha'aretz, appreciating the land which is "nachalas Hashem," appreciating the tremendous gift we have been afforded.  It would take another whole post to fully discuss, but my opinion for what it's worth is that to simply dismiss the day as a political event with no religious meaning is completely off the mark.  Can anyone truly doubt that the hashra'as haShechina of Eretz Yisrael is enhanced not only by the limud haTorah that goes on there, which is of course important, but also by the land being under autonomous Jewish control, no matter what degree of religiosity the government currently is at or not at?  So whether you say hallel or don't say hallel, whether you do baha"b or say tachanun or whatever -- these are technical details -- take a moment to at least have a thought of hakaras hatov for what we have.  Just think of the thousands of Jews across centuries of history who wished they were in our shoes, having the freedom and kedusha of Eretz Yisrael accessible just a plane ride away. 

why the difference in time for tumas leida for boy vs. girl?

My daughter asked why is it that the tumas hayoledes for a girl baby is twice the length of that for a boy baby (2 weeks of tumah followed by 66 days of dmei taharah as opposed to 1 week of tumah and 33 days of dmei taharah for a boy)?  Ramban and other Rishonim (e.g. Ralbag, Abarbanel, R' Bachye) generally take one of two approaches: 1) There is some relationship between tumas yoledes and the time it takes for cells to go from an embryonic stage to become a fetus, which is 40 days for a boy and 80 for a girl; 2) The recovery time for the birth of a girl is longer and more difficult than that for a boy.  I think we would all agree that neither of these answers are scientifically accurate (see the first Ramban on the parsha, who seemed to be concerned enough with scientific accuracy to quote the doctors of his time and the philosophers on an issue that Chazal had already weighed in on) and I doubt an intelligent person would be satisfied with either approach.  So how would you answer the question?  The Netziv writes that the father always really wants a boy, so he draws closer to his wife faster after the birth of a boy than after the birth of a girl.  (I challenge you to give that answer to your daughter, if you have one.)  That may explain the difference between the 7 and 14 day wait, but does not explain the difference between the 33 vs. 66 days.  Without resorting to a mystical explanation of tumas yoledes, what would you say?  

Parenthetically, I saw pointed out that the question of why a yoledes bring a korban chatas (what did she do wrong?) should not even get off the ground, as the chatas of a mechusar kippurim as nothing to do with sin.  See Rashi Kerisus 8b, "Mevi'im chatas v'lo al cheit elah le'echol b'kodhsim." 

avoiding lashon ha'ra as a meta-value

The punishment of tzara’as is the result of the sin of slander and gossip.  We all know the famous pasuk in Tehillim, “Mi ha’ish hachoftez hachaim.. netzor leshoncha me’ra… sur me’ra v’aseh tov…”  David haMelech tells us that if you want  long life all you have to do is guard your tongue from evil speech, avoid doing wrong, and do good.  (Simple, right?)  If we look carefully at the formula the pasuk provides, it seems that the entire first half is redundant.  “Sur me’ra v’aseh tov…” seems to cover it all; it encapsulates kol haTorah kula, the whole shulchan aruch of what it means to be a Jew.  So why did David haMelech add as a preface “netzor lishoncha me’ra?”  Isn’t guarding one’s tongue included already in the idea of “sur me’ra v’aseh tov?” 

Yesterday we discussed the idea that there are certain meta-values and principles that define the essence of Judaism.  These particular mitzvos, midos, principles, are not just one more idea among 613 equals, but are umbrellas that encompass the whole system; they are far greater than any one individual part of halacha and even of all the parts combined.  R’ Chaim Shmuelevitz explained that even though Ya’akov Avinu kept the entire Torah, all tarya”g mitzvos, in Lavan’s  home, he still was nervous that he would not merit Hashem’s protection against Eisav because one can keep kol haTorah kula and still be on the wrong path entirely by missing if one ignores the meta-values.

Explains the Shem m’Shmuel, this is the great chiddush David haMelech wanted to teach us.  “Sur me’ra v’aseh tov” covers the entire shulchan aruch, but even if you have the whole sulchan aruch in your back pocket, if you are missing the preface, the glue that keeps the whole system together, then you are missing everything.  Even if you know kol haTorah kula and keep kol haTorah kula, if your speech is improper, if you are a gossip, if you can’t control what you say and how you say it, then everything else is tainted as well.  “Netzor leshoncha me’ra” transcends the “sur me’ra v’aseh tov;” it is the meta-value that gives character to the system as a whole.

With this we can appreciate the meaning of a famous story brought in the Midrash.  Rav Yanai met a peddler who was hawking a promise of long life.  Rav Yanai was curious as to what this magic elixir might be, so he followed the peddler around,  When a crowd gathered, the peddler finally revealed what his secret “product” was.  He quoted this pasuk in Tehillim, “Mi ha’ish hachoftez hachaim.. netzor leshoncha me’ra… sur me’ra v’aseh tov…”  Rav Yanai remarked that he had never understood this pasuk properly until he heard it from the peddler.  What did Rav Yanai find so remarkable in the peddler’s presentation?  Surely Rav Yanai had been familiar with this pasuk beforehand?!  

The Shem m’Shmuel explains that what caught Rav Yanai’s attention was the peddler’s use of the word “sam,” literally, a spice.  You can’t make a meal of spices alone, but any regular meal served without spice is bland and not satisfying.  “Netzor leshoncha,” guarding against lashon ha’ra, is not just another dish on the menu of Torah, item number whatever of 613 possible choices.  It’s the spice that goes into every dish that makes every dish more  satisfying.  It’s a defining value of the system as a whole.   

the meta-values of halacha

A few nights ago our community had the privilege of hosting R’ Warren Goldstein, the Chief Rabbi of South Africa.  One of the points he made when he spoke is that there are certain meta-values to halacha, which, if ignored, can render the entire observance of halacha worthless (I do not recall if he used that exact word).  One can punctiliously keep the entire shulchan aruch cover to cover, yet still not be following the derech haTorah.

R’ Chaim Shmuelevitz brings proof to this point from Ya’akov Avinu.  Despite assurances from Hashem that he would be protected from harm, Ya’akov was filled with dread at the prospect of meeting Eisav.  Why was he so afraid?  Chazal explain that Ya’akov was worried “shema yigrom ha’cheit.”  Yet, one of the things Ya’akov tells his brother when they meet is, “Im Lavan garti,” which Chazal interpret as a hint that he faithfully kept all 613 mitzvos (garti = numerical value of tarya”g) in Lavan’s house.  If Ya’akov indeed kept all the mitzvos, then why was he worried that Hashem would withdraw his promise of protection because he did something wrong?  He kept kol haTorah kula!  R’ Chaim Shmuelevitz answers that we see from here that one can in fact observe kol haTorah kula, yet still be on the wrong path and be found wanting. 

The follow-up question of course is how you identify what these meta-values are, but that’s another discussion.  

After the talk someone asked a very good question.  Why is it that in our generation, when we have so many people learning Torah as never before, we seem to have lost sight of those meta-values, the overarching principles of halacha?  Rabbi Goldstein suggested that we not lose sight of the fact that we are a dor of yesomim.  Even if we do not have direct relatives who were killed in the Holocaust, we still all lost access to a large chunk of the collective mesorah of Torah in the deaths of so many talmidei chachamim and leaders.  The living embodiment of Torah values that these people represented cannot simply be replaced by book knowledge.

Shiurei Da'as: Can we compare our avodah to that of Eliyahu haNavi or David haMelech?

“Rosheich alay k’Karmel v’dalas roseich k‘argaman…” (Shir haShirim 7:6) taken literally is a description of the beauty of someone's head and the braids of hair.  The Midrash, however, reads the pasuk as describing the beauty in G-d’s eyes of even the worst members of Klal Yisrael.  “Rosheich” is read by the Midrash as “reishech,” from the word “rash,” meaning poor person – not poor financially, but poor in good deeds; “dalas” is taken by the Midrash as a hint to the word “dal,” another synonym for a person who is wanting.  The pasuk is telling us that even the poorest miscreant in Klal Yisrael is as valuable as Eliyahu haNavi, who challenged the idolators of Ba’al at Mt. Carmel; even the poorest no-goodnik is as great as David haMelech, as Zecharya haNavi tells us (12:7), that one day even the “nichshal,” the one who is weak and stumbles, will be like David haMelech. 

R’ Bloch (in Shiurei Da’as, “Rishonim K’Malachim”) asks how it can be that Hashem values someone who is spiritually impoverished as much as he values Eliyahu haNavi or David haMelech.  Imagine there is some kind of big scale where we can weigh people’s merits.  If you were to put me on one side of that scale and David HaMelech or Eliyahu on the other side, there is no question in my mind that their merits would outweigh mine.   So where is the fairness in Hashem saying that in his eyes it’s all the same?

R’ Bloch answers with an analogy.  Imagine there is a race course that stretches thousands of miles long and you have two runners racing along the course.  Even if one person has travelled 2 miles and the other has travelled only 2 yards, does it really make a difference when measured against the total distance that needs to be covered?  Kal v’chomer if the distance that needs to be covered stretches to infinity.  It’s true that Eliyahu HaNavi, David haMelech, accomplished so much more than any of us could dream of accomplishing in our own avodas Hashem.  But that does not mean we should despair or that our avodah has no value.  When measured against the scale of infinity, the tremendous gulf of difference between our achievements is insignificant.

Afar ani tachas kapas raglav, but I cannot help but find R’ Bloch’s answer here less than satisfying.  Even if one grants the validity of the question, it seems that the far simpler answer is “l’fum tza’ara agra.”  Hashem does not judge our net accomplishments alone; he judges us according to our abilities.  What little we accomplish given our circumstance and limitations may indeed be as precious as what greater people were able to do given their specific gifts and talents.  What we see with our limited perspective is far from the complete picture.

But there is an even simpler answer I think, and perhaps it appeals more to a chassidic mindset than a mussar mindset.  The whole question R’ Bloch raises is predicated on the assumption that Hashem should value less those who achieve less.  It seems to me that the whole point of the Midrash is to undermine that very assumption.  Hashem’s love is unconditional.  He extends it freely to the lowest sinner as well as the greatest saint.  He is the ultimate rachaman who is willing to overlook all our failures, all our shortcomings, all our deficiencies, and accept us all equally.  As parents, most of us pay lip service to this idea of loving all our children equally, even those who aggravate and annoy us to no end (trust me, I have a few).  If we can recognize the value of turning a blind eye to the faults of our children and loving them all equally, surely we can appreciate the concept of G-d turning a blind eye to our faults and extending unconditional love to each of us equally.  

GR"A on birchas hamitzvah before birchas kohanim

The gemara (Sota 39) writes that R’ Elazar ben Shamu’a attributed his longevity to the fact that he never duchened without first saying a bracha.  I would not blame you if you were not impressed.  One is obligated to say a birchas hamitzvah before doing most mitzvos.  Why would an Amora think that his special arichus yamim, his longer than normal life, should be attributed to the merit of his not messing up something so basic like saying a bracha before doing a mitzvah? 

From here we see proof, says the GR”A (O.C. 128:30), that there is in fact no requirement to say a bracha before the mitzvah of birchas kohanim.  It is certainly meritorious to do so, but it is not an obligation. 

The question that begs asking is why this chiddush should be true: Why is the mitzvah of birchas kohanim different than any other mitzvah which requires a bracha before performing? 

When I mentioned this issue to my son, he gave what I thought was a very good answer.  The Nesivos in his commentary to the haggadah asks why it is that there is no bracha before the mitzvah of magid.  He answers that you can’t make a bracha on a bracha.  For example, there is no bracha on birchas hamazon because birchas hamazon itself is a bracha.  What’s the lomdus, the reasoning, behind the Nesivos’ rule?  The new edition has a nice footnote where they explain that the whole purpose of reciting a bracha is to give thanks and praise to Hashem.  Were a person to preface that praise and thanks with an “asher kidishanu b’mitzvosav v’tzivanu…” it would defeat the whole point.  A little kid can maybe get away with and saying, “My Mommy/Daddy told me I have to say thank you,” but an adult surely cannot.  Kal v’chomer it would be improper to to approach Hashem saying, “I was commanded to say thank you, so here it is."  We omit the birchas hamitzvah before we say the bracha of “Asher ga’alanu” (and R’ Shlomo Kluger already criticizes the fact that the Nesivos reduces magid to this bracha alone) and before we say “Birchas hamazon” because we want to recite those brachos and thanks Hashem as if there were no command to do so, as if we were motivated purely by our own sincerity.  Shouldn’t  the same should be true of birchas kohanim?  (And I admit that at first I thought one could be mechaleik between a bracha to Hashem and the blessing of Klal Yisrael, but one second thought, I think my son is right.)  To speak of “v’tzivanu,” the burden of fulfilling a command, seems to undermine the idea of “l’vareich as amo Yisrael b’ahavah,” the feeling of love for Klal Yisrael that the bracha is supposed to express and which the kohen is trying to convey

I saw a different hesber from R’ Zecharya Tubi, Rosh Kollel in KBY.  A kohen only is obligated to duchan if the tzibur calls him to do say, based on the pasuk, “Amor lahem.”  Based on this, the Pri Megadim writes that the tzibur has a right to be mochel on birchas kohanim if they choose to do so. The Rashba in his teshuvos has a yesod that one never recites a bracha on a mitzvah which is subject to mechila.  For example, one would not recite a bracha on the mitzvah of tzedaka because the recipient could always be mochel receipt of the money.  QED, the mitzvah of birchas kohanim also does not require the recitation of a bracha. 

duchening on Yom Tov sheni for a kohen visiting chu"l from Eretz Yisrael

M’inyan l’inyan from Yom Tov to the parsha:


The Sha’arei Teshuva at the end of O.C. 495 quotes a machlokes achronim whether a kohen who comes to chutz la’aretz from Eretz Yisrael to visit and therefore observes only one day of Yom Tov can go up to duchen on Yom Tov sheni. At first glance the safeik seems a bit hard to understand. I can understand why achronim might debate issues like what tefilah a ben Eretz Yisrael visiting chu”l should say on Y”Y sheni, as the tefilos of chu”l on Yom Tov are completely different than what a ben Eretz Yisrael would daven if he were home. However, when it comes to duchening, the minhag in Eretz Yisrael is to duchen every day anyway. M’mah nafshach: if the kohen follows minhag Eretz Yisrael, he should duchen; if he follows minhag chu”l and it is Yom Tov, he should also duchen – so what’s the safeik?
I think we see from here proof to a yesod that the Rav has in Shiurim l’Zecher Aba Mori that there are 2 dinim in birchas kohanim: 1) an independent mitzvah; 2) part of the cheftza of tefilah.

There is an interesting Yersuahlmi at the beginning of the 4th perek of Ta’anis:

מניין לנשיאות כפים (במדבר ו) כה תברכו את בני ישראל. עד כאן בשחרית במוסף (ויקרא ט) וישא אהרן את ידיו אל העם.

The Yerushalmi actually has two separate sources for birchas kohanim, one from parshas Naso, one from our parsha (Shmini) where birchas kohanim (see Rashi, Ramban) is mentioned as a concluding element of Aharon’s avodah. These two sources may reflect these two dimensions of the mitzvah. The chiddush of our parsha and the reason that we situate birchas kohanim in “retzeih” is because birchas kohanim must take place in the context of avodah/tefilah.

The Gilyon on the Yerushalmi at the beginning of that perek reflects the same idea. He is mechadesh that the reason we do not do birchas kohanim at night is not because avodah is never done at night, but rather it is because tefilas arvis reshus – we do not have a formal obligation of tefilah at night and therefore birchas kohanim has no context.

Returning to our issue, since a kohen who is a ben Eretz Yisrael would not daven a tefilas musaf on Yom Tov sheni, he lacks a cheftza shel tefilah in which to incorporate birchas kohanim (note that the second source quoted by the Yerushalmi addresses itself specifically to musaf!) and is therefore exempt from the mitzvah.

yetzi'as Mitzrayim continues to unfold through history

The Sefas Emes explains that we hide part of the afikoman, tzafun=hidden, because not all of the geulah was revealed during yetzi’as Mitzrayim.  All of the subsequent galuyos and tzaros we have suffered for millennia are but a taint of galus Mitzrayim that never worked itself out; the geulah which we are ultimately waiting for is really the completion of the process that only began with the redemption from Egypt.

In “Dayaeinu” we go through a laundry list of “ma’alos tovos” that Hashem has done for us, starting with taking us out of Mitzrayim and continuing through binyan beis hamikdash.  Why is this whole list recited at the leil ha’seder – what do all these things have to do with sipur yetziyas Mitzrayim?  The Sefas Emes again sees this as evidence that Jewish history is the unfolding of geulas Mitzrayim in all its glory. 

(Perhaps the machlokes Tanaim whether the ultimate geulah will eclipse the need to have a zecher l’yetzi’as Mitzrayim is not about whether yetzi’as Mitzrayim will ever be forgotten [which would beg the question of why it is counted as a mitzvah], but rather about which format the mitzvah of zechiras yetzi’as Mitzrayim will take.  Perhaps remembering [after we are zocheh to see it] the ultimate geulah is itself a kiyum of zechiras yetzi'as Mitzrayim as it is the ultimate culmination of the yetzi’as Mitzrayim process.)

So yes, it’s isru chag, Pesach is over, and I hope you already had your bread or a cookie.  But we are by no means done with yetzi’as Mitzrayim, as we still await the completion of our personal and national redemption.

shabbos chol hamoed leining -- angels are not good enough

On Shabbos Chol haMoed, both of Pesach and Sukkos, we lein from Parshas Ki Tisa beginning from Moshe's statement/complaint (33:12):

 רְאֵה אַתָּה אֹמֵר אֵלַי הַעַל אֶת הָעָם הַזֶּה וְאַתָּה לֹא הוֹדַעְתַּנִי אֵת אֲשֶׁר תִּשְׁלַח עִמִּי וְאַתָּה אָמַרְתָּ יְדַעְתִּיךָ בְשֵׁם וְגַם מָצָאתָ חֵן בְּעֵינָי

Moshe said to Hashem, "Listen, you said I should lead these people, but you haven't told me what help I have."

Rashi immediately asks that we do find that Moshe had been told (23:20) that Hashem would send an angel to guide Bnei Yisrael.  Why was Moshe saying that Hashem hadn't provided any guidance?  

Rashi answers that Moshe was not happy with being told that an angel would be sent.  That wasn't good enough.  Moshe was saying Hashem, "We want the real deal -- You need to lead us.  I need you to tell me that you are going to do that or we can't move forward."

The Tiferes Yosef quotes from the Ishbitza that these pesukim speak to us every Yom Tov.  Pesach and Sukkos always correspond with the change of seasons, which means a change of periods in our life.  The Yamim Tovim give us the spiritual energy to make that change and move to the next stage of our growth.  

Angels are described as "omdim," standing.  They don't grow; they are fixated in one spot.  On the one hand, this means an angel can never regress.  An angel cannot know failure or suffer disappointment.  On the other hand, it also means an angel can never become more than it already is at the moment of its creation.

So we have a Pesach (or a Sukkos), we gulp down that spiritual energy, we reach spiritual heights.  There are some people who think to themselves, "Wow, I wish I could hold on to this forever."  But that attitude is a mistake.  We need the leining to remind us to reject the temptation of the malach, of "omdim."  Like Moshe Rabeinu, we need to turn to Hashem and say,  "וְאַתָּה אָמַרְתָּ יְדַעְתִּיךָ בְשֵׁם," as much as we gained from Yom Tov (so far) we want even more, we are never satisfied, we want to connect to Ain Sof with no limits.  

the real answer to the ben rasha

 I have not really started to look at the haggadah, but a thought occurred to me regarding the response to the ben rasha.  First of all, what difference does it make to him, “Ilu haya sham, lo haya nigal?”  What does he care what might have been – what was was; bottom line he and we are here today.  Second of all, given that we are accusing him of being a kofer, what kind of threat it is to say that had he been there he would not have merited geulah – a kofer doesn’t believe in a miraculous geulah to begin with!  To him it’s an empty threat.  B’pashtus one could say that we are not answering the rasha at all, but simply declaring the truth for our own benefit, but then what’s the “hakheh es shinav” all about?

I think we are answering the rasha.  The rasha is the guy who goes around asking questions that sound cool and are intellectually fashionable to ask.  He is cutting edge in his thinking, meaning he mimics the latest trends among those who pose as thinkers and he parrots their slogans.  Rasha, we see right through you.  You are trying so hard to quash your neshoma, but you can’t win.  My wife recently heard R’ Y. Y. Jacobson speak and he told a story of a man who called him who had done everything he could to distance himself from yahadut, but he was still convinced that he had not done enough.  So he called R’ Jacobson and asked whether there some ritual he could do that would really permanently sever his ties with the Jewish people.  As R’ Jacobson pointed out, the man obviously didn’t see the irony in his calling a Rabbi that practices a religion he doesn’t believe in to ask for a ritual he doesn’t believe in to cut himself off from a people he doesn’t associate with.  That’s our rasha.  Even amidst his disbelief, he can’t help but reveal the truth – he does believe.  And maybe that’s why there is so little difference between the question of the rasha and that of the chacham.  For all his posing and posturing, the rasha still speaks the language of amcha, of a chacham.  “Ba’avur zeh asah Hashem li” means that geulah is addressed to each of us individually, and therefore, if someone’s neshoma is here today and was not cut off at its root in Mitzrayim (and really, how many new neshomos are there?  Most probably this is just a recycled neshoma that had been in Mitzrayim with the rest of Klal Yisrael), there must be some redeeming quality that it has and some role for it to play in advancing Klal Yisrael (Why do I sound like I am channeling Gandalf the Grey talking about Gollum?)   "Li v'lo lo" means the geulah is not for the pretend "lo," the alter-ego of evil. “Ilu haya sham,” if that neshoma really was where it tries to pretend it is, in those unholy places, then it wouldn’t be sitting with us at a seder asking silly questions.  “Ilu haya sham,” as we once explained before, the word “sham” is the same root/idea as “shemama,” destruction (“Sham yashavnu gam bachinu…,” also think of Yosef in the pit, “Vayehi sham b’beis ha’sohar) – if that neshoma indeed was destroyed, desolate, as lost as it pretends to be, “lo haya nigal,” it would never have experienced the geulah that it obviously did at some point otherwise what would it be doing here?  That’s the “hakeh es shinav.”  What drives the rasha crazy is not threats, not condemnations, not telling him that he is lost, but rather just the opposite – telling him that as much as he tries, he can never really lose himself as much as he wants.  Lo yidach m’menu nidach.

It's derush, but so what?  There can be truth to it anyway.

Have a great Pesach!

issur melacha on erev Pesach

There is just too much to do to even think of writing anything meaningful before Y”T.  Who has time to even go over the basic halachos well?  So please excuse whatever errors you find here.

There is a machlokes Mordechai and Rokeach whether there is an issur of amira l’aku”m in having melacha done on erev Pesach. I saw the Aruch haShulchan (468:2) suggests that the nekudas hamachkokes is whether the issur melacha is derabbanan, in which case amira l’aku”m is not an issue, or whether it's a d’oraysa (as the Yerushalmi seems to hold).  I thought one could explain it a bit differently.  Maybe it’s not the chomer ha’issur – whether it's d’oraysa or derabbanan – which is the issue, but rather it’s the geder ha’issur.  The gemara (BM 92) has a safeik whether there is an issur of amira l’aku”m only on Shabbos or by other issurim as well, and I believe we pasken l’kula.  Yesh lachkor whether the issur melacha on erev Pesach is just an issur gavra like any other issur, or whether the issur stems from a certain kedushas hayom that the day has, like Shabbos?  If the issur is like any other issur, then there should be no problem of amira l’aku”m.  However, if erev Pesach has a keduashas hayom, then perhaps amira l’aku”m applies as well.

The din is that when shiva ends on an erev Y”T, the upcoming Y”T cancels the upcoming period of shloshim and one can do laundry and bathe and take a haircut even on erev Y”T.  Rama adds that this kula applies “samuch l’chasheicha,” only close to nightfall, except on erev Pesach where it applies from chatzos.  Why the difference?  The GR”A explains that erev Pesach itself is called a moed.  To some extend erev Pesach itself has a certain status as a holiday.

The Aruch haShulchan himself adds in parenthesis that the Rokeach writes that amira l’aku”m only applies on Shabbos, Y”T, and chol ha’moed.  It seems to me that the point is not that the issurei melacha on these days is d’oraysa (which at least with respect to chol ha’moed is debatable), but rather the point is that these days all have a certain kedushas ha’yom.  According to the Rokeach, that ingredient is absent on erev Pesach; according to the Mordechai, it's there.

My son had two arguments: 1) L’shitasi, the Rama in hil aveilus that says erev Pesach does have a special status is against the halacha here where l’ma’aseh we pasken that there is no issur of amira l’aku”m.  I don’t think this question gets off the ground.  Just because the Rama accepted the fact that the kedushas hayom is enough to push off shloshim does not automatically mean he has to accept that there is enough of a kedushas ha’yom to create an issur melacha.  Even among days that share the common denominator of having a kedushas ha’yom, e.g. Shabbos, Yom Tov and chol ha’moed, there are gradations as what that kedusha implies, what nafka minos it carries with it.  For example, there may be a common requirement of simcha in all of those days, but there are clear differences in terms of the level of issur melacha.  2) The gem in B”M sets up the safeik of whether amira l’aku”m applies to other issurim as a question of whether we compare those issurim to Shabbos, which is an issur sekila, or not.  It sounds like the issue has nothing to do with kedushas ha’yom and everything to do with measuring the chomer ha’issur.  This is a stronger argument than the previous point, but I’m always less bothered by the lason hagemara than my son is.  I don’t see any problem in saying that the question of whether amira l’aku”m is a function of having a kedushas ha’yom or simply chomer ha’isur is itself part and parcel of the tzedadim of the safeik.

the hidden spirit of the akeidah

The Torah tells us that a korban olah of a cow must be shechted "lifnei Hashem," but then a few pesukim later tells us that sheep must be shechted "tzafona fifnei Hashem" (1:11) Why the addition of the extra word "tzafona?"  The Midrash writes:  

When Avraham did the akeidah of Yitzchak, Hashem prepared two sheep offering [one in place of Yitzchak, one in place of the ram actually offered], one for the morning, one for the afternoon.  Why did he do this?   So that when the Jewish  people offer the korban tamid and read this parsha of “tzafona lifnei Hashem” Hashem will remember akeidas Yitzchak.  “I testify by heaven and earth that whether goy or yisrael, whether man or woman, whether eved or maid, whoever reads this parsha of ‘tzafona lifnei Hashem,’ Hashem will remember akeidas Yitzchak…”

Why is it the word “tzafona” in particular that is a reminder of the akeidah?  Sefas Emes explains that in addition to “north,” the word “tzafon” also means hidden (there are a number of explanations as to how these two meanings are related, but they all strike me as speculative).  Akeidas Yitzchak didn’t happen once and then become past history – the power of mesirus nefesh of the akeidah lives on hidden inside each one of us.  When a person brings a korban he is in fact re-enacting in a small way the akeidas Yitzchak; he should feel that he is offering his entire self to Hashem but Hashem in his mercy chooses to accept a sheep as a substitute.  The memory of the akeidah lives on through korbanos because through the korbanos we demonstrate that we embody within that spirit of the akeidah. 

a lesson in humility

The Ba'al haTurim explains that the world "VaYikra" is written with a little aleph because Moshe Rabeinu in his humility wanted to leave out that letter and write "VaYikar," as if Hashem just appeared to him by chance.  Hashem overruled him, so to speak, and the letter remains, but Moshe's modesty is acknowledged by its being a small letter.

Last post we discussed R' Akiva's ability to squeeze derashos and halachos out of every dot in Torah sheb'ksav. Even the crowns on top of the letters contain deep meaning.  If so, imagine the wealth of Torah that might have been lost had an entire letter -- the letter aleph -- been omitted from the Torah!  How could Moshe have thought to leave it out?

R' Shach (Rosh Amanah) answers that Moshe Rabeinu weighed that wealth of Torah against the lesson in humility that could be learned from his leaving out the letter and Moshe must have concluded that the lesson of humility is the more important one.  

every moment counts

I can’t remember how it came up, but this past Shabbos my wife mentioned something about the Midrash that tells the story of R’ Akiva’s audience falling asleep in the middle of his derasha.  R’ Akiva woke them up with a question: Why is it that Esther ruled over 127 provinces?  Because Sarah Imeinu lived 127 years.  Meforshim explain that R’ Akiva was making the point that if every year of Sarah’s life added a country to Esther’s kingdom, by that token every month added a province, every day a city, every minute a street, etc.  Avraham and Sarah were “ba’im ba’yamim,” they were able to bring every day of their lives to the table and show accomplishment.  Their avodah was like daf yomi – never miss a day, never miss a daf.  Esther was able to reap the rewards of that consistency.  Think of what would have been lost if Sarah would have wasted even a few minutes of precious time!  So falling asleep in the middle of a derasha and missing even a few moments of Torah is not a good idea.

I don’t think it’s coincidence that R’ Akiva is the one to make this point.  The Yismach Moshe (in P’ Beshalach and P’ VaYakhel) writes that R’ Akiva glorified Torah sheb’ksav (this is probably a shock to those of you who learn R’ Tzadok and are used to R’ Akiva being portrayed as the personification of Torah sheb’al peh).  The gemara (Menachos 29) tells us that R’ Akiva was able to darshen even the tagim on the tops of letters– every mark in Torah sheb’ksav, evey drop of ink on the parchment, R’ Akiva squeezed meaning out of.   Everything in halacha has its roots in the written word.  The irony of that gemara is that Moshe Rabeinu, the deliverer of Torah sheb’ksav to us, witnesses the genius of R’ Akiva and is comforted only by the fact that R’ Akiva is reduced finally to acknowledging something as a halacha l’Moshe m’Sinai, a law that has no textual basis.  Moshe Rabeinu was jealous because R’ Akiva was beating him at his own game – torah sheb’ksav!  We all know that a sefer Torah that is missing even a single letter is pasul.  You can’t write a sentence here, a sentence there, jump around, leave blanks, etc. – a sefer must be written letter by letter, word by word, from beginning to end.  Sarah Imeinu was a living sefer Torah.  A lost moment in her life would be just like a tag missing on top of a letter.  Who better than R’ Akiva, a man capable of darshening every dot, to warn us of the catastrophic danger of such a circumstance?

This is all past history, however, as the avodah of Nisan and Pesach is completely different.  Pesach is about dilug, jumping.  So you missed Brachos and Shabbos and already have missed a few blatt of Eiruvin – so what?  Jump in!  Klal Yisrael is at the lowest of low points of ruchniyus, the spiritual life has been squeezed out of them by Mitzrayim – so what?  In a second they are pulled to the heights of geulah. 

Parshas haChodesh is really a very strange name for the maftir of this past Shabbos, as there are maybe 2 or 3 pesukim that talk about the mitzvah of declaring rosh chodesh and the entire rest of the parsha focused on the laws of korban pesach.  Why don’t we call it parshas hapesach?  Why do we even mix in the laws of rosh chodesh here?  Shem m’Shmuel answers that the Torah is introducing a shift in perspective.  When your avodah is “ba ba’yamim,” to make every day and every moment count, it means time is your master; every moment demands attention.   The message of parshas hachodesh is aderaba, you are the master over time.  “Hachodesh hazeh lachem” – time is yours.  That is not to say you should go ahead and waste it – time is a valuable resource!  But it’s not an irreplaceable commodity.  You *can* make up for lost time.  If not for that ability to leap forward over missed deadlines and lost opportunities, to start afresh from this moment, a korban pesach and a chag hapesach would be impossible.

Ksav Sofer: VaYakhel - Pekudei (2)

“Vayavo’u kol hachachamim ha’osim es kol mileches hakodesh ish ish m’milachto… marbim ha’am l’havi…” (34:4-5).  A skilled craftsman has to be able to estimate the quantity of materials needed to do a job before he begins.  Here, the Torah tells us that the craftsmen making the Mishkan came from their work, seemingly in the middle of the job, and told Moshe that the people had brought more than enough.  Why didn’t they realize they had too much material before they began? 

The Ksav Sofer answers by being medayek in the Torah‘s description of the craftsmen given a few pesukim earlier: “V’kol ish chacham lev… asher nasan Hashem chochma u’tevunah ba’heima la’da’as la’asos es kol mileches hakodesh l’kol asher tzivah Hashem” (34:1).  A carpenter, jeweler, or craftsman is blessed by Hashem with certain skills, but these craftsmen could just as well use their skills to build a house, make a fine piece of jewelry, or fashion a beautiful piece of furniture as to make a Mishkan.  The Torah here is not speaking about such people.  It is talking about people who were blessed specifically with ability to do, “…mileches hakodesh l’kol asher tzivah Hashem,” the work of making a Mishkan – they could not use those skills and ability in any other area!  These were not craftsmen or professionals who came to the job already in possession of  certain skill set – these were people who came with no prior experience or training, with nothing more than their desire to help.  Hashem blessed these people with a special bracha that enabled them to translate that desire into “mileches hakodesh” even if they had never done such work before. 

The Midrash comments that the word “ba’heima” has the same letters as “beheima,” animal, hinting that Hashem even endowed animals with intelligence to help in the building of the Mishkan.  Perhaps the Midrash is not meant to be taken literally, but is meant to emphasize that the skills used in building the Mishkan were a bracha given by Hashem in this special circumstance to even those born with two left hands, those who otherwise had no innate abilities and were no more skilled than animals.

It’s no wonder that these people did not realize in advance whether they had enough or too much material to do the work needed.  They were literally learning (or being blessed with the knowledge needed) on the job as they did their work. 

This idea is a klal gadol in accomplishing in Torah and avodah.  “What do you want from me? – I don’t have the ability to do that,” is an easy excuse to avoid trying to rise to the next level of learning, of avodah, of making the effort to accomplish tzorchei tzibur.  We assume the lamdan was born with genius, the ba’al avodah was born with great ability to concentrate in davening, the person who is a ba’al tzedoka or chessed always had that drive.  But that’s not the case.  What these people had more than anyone else is desire.  If that ingredient is in place, even if we lack ability, Hashem will provide the skills and knowledge it takes, “la’asos es kol mileches hakodesh.”

This same theme is echoed in the closing of Parshas Pekudei.  Rashi (39:33) writes that because Moshe did not have any job to do in building the Mishkan, Hashem left him with the final task of erecting the structure once it was completed.  The boards and beams were too heavy to be lifted into place and the people were stuck.  Hashem told Moshe that this was his personal task to accomplish.  Moshe asked, “But how can I alone lift the boards?”  Hashem answered that he just needed to make the effort; the rest will be accomplished by a miracle. 

“K’chol asherh tzivah Hashem es Moshe kein asu Bnei Yisrael es kol  ha’avodah” (39:42).  Just as Hashem commanded Moshe – just as Hashem told Moshe that all he needed was to make an effort and Hashem would do the rest – so too with respect to the work of Bnei Yisrael.  It was not the skill of the craftsman or the architects and engineers that ensured the success of the building, as even those with no skills or experience were free to participate.  It was Hashem’s miraculous bracha.  The overt miracle of the raising of the boards was the sign that even the success of the little details was the result of miraculous intervention as well.   

Ksav Sofer on VaYakhel (1)

A few Ksav Sofers this week:

1) Rashi explains that the word “al” in the pasuk, “Vayavo’u ha’anashim al ha’nashim,” (35:22) means alongside.  When the women came to donate to the Mishkan, their husbands came with them.  Ksav Sofer quotes the halacha that “mah she’kansa isha kanah ba’alah,” whatever property a woman acquires belongs to her husband (unless a special stipulation is made.)  Technically speaking women had no right to give away property or money to the Mishkan because they did not own what they were giving.  Nonetheless, their husbands respected that desire to give, and so they came with their wives and showed their support and acquiescence to their wives’ donations and participation.  I would suggest that the Torah is teaching us that building G-d’s house, his Mishkan, demands first building shalom bayis in your own home.  The support of the husbands for their wives's avodah and vice versa is the foundation of that shalom.

2) The pasuk starts by telling us “Kol ish v’isha asher nadav libam osam l’havi…,” that every man and women who was so moved brought donations for the Mishkan, and then ends, “…havi’u Bnei Yisrael nedava l’Hashem,” that Bnei Yisrael brought donations for Hashem (35:29).  There seems to be a redundancy here, as saying all the men and women gave donations and saying Bnei Yisrael gave donations amounts to the same thing.  Ksav Sofer again returns to the point that not everyone had assets to give.  Children who are minors do not halachically have ownership rights and therefore could not donate.  These children's parents still very much wanted them to have a share in this great mitzvah of making a Mishkan.  Therefore, instead of bringing their gifts themselves, the parents sent it with their children.  “Bnei Yisrael” in the pasuk is not a proper noun, i.e. the Children of Israel, but rather is a common noun, i.e. the children, meaning the minors.  Every “ish v’isha,” man and woman, donated, but it was “bnei Yisrael,” the children, who actually brought the gifts to Moshe.  We've all seen parents who give their children coins to put in the pushka when it is brought around in shul.  I wonder if this minhag yisrael has its roots in this pasuk.  Children learn by doing, and it’s the delivery of those coins at a young age that inculcates in children the midah of chessed forever.

Moshe's question of "tzadik v'tov lo"

The gemara (Brachos 7) writes that when Moshe realized it was a sha’as rachamim, he made three requests of Hashem, one of which was that Hashem should explain why “tzadik v’tov lo, tzadik v’ra lo, rasha v’tov lo, rasha v’ra lo.”  Why is it that there are righteous people who have it good and others who suffer; why is it that there are wicked people who have it good and others who suffer? 

The gemara quotes a machlokes Tana’im whether Hashem acceded to this request or not.  The Tana Kamma holds that Moshe was answered by Hashem.  “V’chanosi es asher achon,” (33:19) is the response -- Hashem rewards those who deserve reward.  The tzadik who has it good is a tzadik gamur who deserves it; the tzadik who suffers is a tzadik who is not completely up to snuff.  The rasha who suffers is a rasha who is completely wicked and deserves punishment; the rasha who has it good is a rasha who is not completely bad. 

The Chofetz Chaim (al haTorah) uses a mashal to explain why this is so hard for us to understand.  A guest who is visiting a shul notices that the gabai seems to favor one half of the room, choosing most of the people who get aliyos and kibudim from a particular section.  After davening the guest goes over to the gabai to complain about the obvious bias that perhaps only he as an outsider sees.  “Silly man,” says the gabai, “Had you been here last week you would have seen that the people in the other half of the shul got more aliyos, and so this week I had to balance things out.”  If a person can misunderstand a little thing like the distribution of aliyos based on a mistaken inference, kal v’chomer a person cannot hope to understand the workings of schar v’onesh in the universe based on his inferences from a limited sample of 70 years in this world.

R’ Meir disagrees and holds Hashem did not answer Moshe’s question.  The pasuk, “V’chanosi es asher achon,” means that Hashem will reward even those who do not deserve it. 

R’ Elimelech m’Lizensk, whose yahrzeit was yesterday, explains that the machlokes here is not about how to read the pasuk (see Maharasha) -- even R’ Meir agrees that the pashut pshat is like the Tana Kamma’s reading, that Hashem will reward and favor those who deserve favor and reward.  R’ Meir, however, holds that when Hashem gives a tzadik chein, it’s not for the tzadik’s personal benefit alone.  A tzadik is a conduit to bring bracha into the world; there is a trickle down effect.   By rewarding the tzadik, Hashem ends up bringing bracha even to those who don’t deserve it on their own merits.  The net result is that everyone benefits.  (You can make the connection to R’ Elimelech himself and understand why I quote this torah in particular on his yahrzeit.)

Now that we’ve seen the gemara’s answer, let’s go back and take a better look at  the question.  Moshe’s seems to raising the classic question of theodicy – why do the righteous suffer and the wicker prosper?  But if that alone was what troubled him, then the gemara should refer only to “tzadik v’ra lo… rasha v’tov lo.”  Why does the gemara include in the question “tzadik v’tov lo… rasha v’ra lo,” the fact that there are righteous people who get their reward and wicked who suffer?  This is as things should be – there is no mystery about that part of the equation, is there?

The Mahari”l Diskin reminds us that there is another gemara (Moed Katan 28) that “banei, chayei, u’mezonei lav b’zechusa talya elah b’mazla.”  There is a power to what the gemara calls “mazal,” what we might call genetic makeup, personality, environment.  These form the frame or context within which a person receives his schar v’onesh.  A poor person might be blessed and move up to the middle class; the second string player may find himself in the starting lineup; however, it’s extremely unlikely that the pauper will suddenly become a millionaire, or that a person who is 5’ 2” will suddenly be drafted by the NBA.  That’s what bothered Moshe.  Rare though it may be, there are cases that are the exceptions to the rule.  There are poor people who suddenly become rich overnight and players like Moggsy Bogues who make it big despite a lack of height.  There are tzadikim who receive reward that completely defies the norms of nature – and then there are the vast majority who do not.  Moshe was as mystified by the phenomenon of “tzadik v’tov lo” despite the effects of mazal as he was at there being a “tzadik v’ra lo.”  How does the system work? 

The gemara answers that we have to distinguish between the “tzadik gamur” and the “tzadik she’aino gamur.”  The tzadik gamur who is completely righteous rises above his natural proclivities, and is in turn rewarded outside the normal teva/mazal boundaries (genetic, socio-economic, etc.) of nature.  A tzadik who does good to the extent his natural talents allow for but does not push the envelope in turn is rewarded only to the degree that mazal allows.  (The inverse holds true for the rasha.)

There seems, however, to be an exception to the rule that does not fit the gemara’s answer.  Hashem promises, “B’chanuni nah b’zos,” (Malachi 3:10) that we can test him in one area: if a person gives tzedaka, Hashem promises to reward the person with wealth, “V’harikosei lachem b’racha ad b’li dai.”  The Navi tells us that if you give tzedaka, you can max out the credit card, because the lottery or the dividend check or the tax refund is guaranteed.  But what about mazal?  If you have no head for business, if your investments fail, if your job never pays a bonus, how can you expect the supernatural to happen in defiance of your nature just because you gave tzedaka?  Isn’t it only for the tzadik gamur who is a oveid Hashem in a superlative way that superlative things happen for?

The Mahari”l Diskin answers by quoting a Rambam in Shmoneh Perakim.  Chazal tell us that a person should not say, for example, that  pork is repulsive, but rather should say that it probably tastes good, just we can’t eat it.  When you see the advertisement for a Big Mac, there is nothing wrong with your mouth watering – you just have to stop yourself from eating it.  The Rambam adds a caveat: this rule is true only when speaking about mitzvos that defy rational explanation.  However, when we are speaking about immoral behavior, the whole point of the mitzvah is to feel repulsion.  A person should not walk around wanting to steal or murder but say that he can’t do it because the mitzvah prevents him – a moral, decent person does not feel the desire to begin with.

With this in mind we can explain why the reward for tzedaka is guaranteed.  When it comes to mitzvos like kashrus, where the normal, expected reaction is to have a desire for that Big Mac, the reward is for going  beyond what is normal and avoiding giving in to temptation.  The tzadik gamur merits a reward outside the constraints of mazal because his actions are outside what is "normal" human behavior.  However, when it comes to mitzvos like tzedaka, the behavior the Torah expects is the norm of how a decent person should act.  Therefore, the reward too is built into the teva and is accessible to everyone.

The gemara is amazingly meduyak when it tells is that someone who gives tzedaka even for an ulterior motive, "al menas she'yichyeh b'ni," is considered a "tzadik gamur" (Pesachim 10).  Just as the tzadik gamur receives reward that transcends mazal, in the case of tzedaka a normal person acting for his own benefit can still reap that same reward.