kana'im pogim bo

Ibn Ezra cryptically comments on Pinchas' killing of Zimri (25:7):

 ויש בכאן שאלה.

"There is a question here," he says, but he doesn't tell us what it is. He does, however, give us the answer: 

ויתכן להשיב שכבר נצמד זמרי בעדים

The footnotes of the Mossad haRav Kook edition of the Ibn Ezra explains that what bothered Ibn Ezra is that the text never mentions what this "ish Yisrael" did wrong -- all we know is that he brought a Midianite woman before Moshe and the people assembled in front of Ohel Moed. The answer is that the illicit act must have already taken place before Pinchas grabbed his spear, even though the text doesn't spell it out.

B'mechilas kvodam of the editor, I don't think that was the Ibn Ezra's question or the point of his answer.

Rambam writes (Issurei Bi’ah 12:4) that kan’im who kill someone who is bo’el aramis in public are deserving of praise for their zealousness, as we see from the actions of Pinchas. Ra’avad adds that this is true only if hasra’ah was given and the bo’el did not stop, otherwise this is not a praiseworthy act. 

I think the Ibn Ezra held like the Ra'avad, and what bothered him is that Pinchas seems to act without pause, without taking time to give hasra'ah. Ibn Ezra therefore explains that there was witnesses present who saw what Zimri did.  It is those witnesses (why else mention this detail?) who must have given the requisite hasra'ah.

What are the Rambam and Ra'avad arguing about? Magid Mishnah explains the issue at hand is whether kana’im pogim bo is a capital penalty like other misos beis din, or whether it is a unique chiddush din. According to Rambam, kana’im pogim bo is vigilante justice – it’s in a separate category from formal misas beis din. We are dealing with a unique halacha l’Moshe m’Sinai that can be carried out only at the scene and time of the crime, where guilt is clear and therefore no hasra’ah is required. Ra’avad, on the other hand, derives from Chazal (“haya lo lifrosh v’lo pireish”) that Pinchas did in fact warn Zimri; kana’im pogim bo is no different than any other chiyuv misas beis din which requires hasra’ah. It's just carried out by an individual instead of the court.

If this approach is correct, the Ra’avad severly understates his case. Failure to give hasra’ah shouldn’t just mean “lo amrinan harei eilu m’shubachin,” that the vigilante is not deserving of praise. It should mean the vigilante has in effect committed murder, because without hasra’ah there is no license to kill the bo’el!

R’ Shimon Moshe Diskin explains that even according to Ra’avad, kana’im pogim bo is a unique din, categorically different than misas beis din. The reason the Ra'avad requires hasra’ah is because kana’im pogim bo is a halacha v’ain morin kein – it’s something to be avoided, not encouraged.  Killing is permissible in this case, but it should be seen as a last resort, undertaken only when all other options, including issuing a verbal warning, have failed.  By way of analogy, he quotes the view of the Ramah that hasra’ah has to be given to a rodef before more violent action can be taken to stop him. It’s not because killing a rodef is like misas beis din – it’s because killing the rodef is a last resort.  The gemara says if the rodef can be stopped by breaking an arm or leg, then there is no license to kill.  Surely it follows that if yelling a hasra'ah warning to the rodef, "Stop or I'll shoot!" will get him to stop, killing would be an excess. 

What bothers me is that if that is the case, why did Pinchas have to kill Zimri?  Why couldn't he have just pushed him aside, or taken some other action to stop him? 

shalosh regalim changes attitudes

Rashi comments that the words of Bilam’s donkey’s question, “Why have you hit me three times /shalosh regalim?” alludes to the shalosh regalim that we celebrate.  Bilam was being asked how he could possibly hope to curse and destroy a nation that celebrates the shalosh regalim.  Much ink has already been spilled (e.g. see Maharal) trying to address the derash question of why the zechus of this mitzvah in particular stood in Bilam’s way.  Why not the mitzvah of tefilah, of kri’as shema, or any other mitzvah?  But aside from the derush question, there is a pshat question that needs to be addressed here.  True, maybe you can’t ask kashes on a donkey, but this was no ordinary donkey.  “Why are you hitting me?” seems like a pretty silly question to ask when the donkey had just banged Bilam’s leg not once, not twice, but three times, crushing it against the wall.  Why Bilam was hitting the donkey is obvious!  What was the donkey asking him?

The Mishna in Pirkei Avos (ch 5) tells us that one of the miracles that took place at the time of the Mikdash was that no one ever complained of being cramped for space in Yerushalayim.  Chasam Sofer and others explain that the miracle the Mishna refers to has nothing to do with the physical space of Yerushalayim – the city boundaries did not magically grow bigger when crowds came.  Rather, what happened is that people’s attitude changed.  The same people that may have complained that their little home is too small, their kitchen is too cramped (what Jewish housewife does not long for a bigger kitchen?), having to sleep in bunk beds and share rooms is not fair, etc. forgot all that once they came to Yerushalayim.  Even if the physical conditions might have been worse than at home, when you have the opportunity to come to Yerushalayim and be in the presence of the Shechina, who thinks of how big the hotel suite is?  Does it really matter if your neighbor bumps into you a little if you have the opportunity to see avodah taking place?  Three times a year thousands of people came to Yerushalayim for aliya la’regel and somehow, three times a year they all made space for each other and got along because they felt Hashem’s presence and therefore nothing else mattered.

 

Now we can understand what the donkey was asking Bilam.  The malach was not out to harm Bilam, but rather was a malach of rachamim sent to stop him from doing something silly.  Chazal tell us that whenever the malach Michoel (=rachamim) is present, the Shechina is right there with him, close by.  So true, Bilam’s foot had been banged into the wall three times – there was no room to move.  But when the Shecha is present, who thinks about how much or how little room they have?  Who feels cramped and complains?  The donkey asked Bilam, “How can you even feel that bump when there is so much else you should be paying attention to now?”

 

And now we understand as well why it is davka the shalosh regalim that are alluded to in the donkey’s question.  These three times a year when all of Klal Yisrael gathered in Yerushalayim and no one complained about lack of space, no one complained about being crushed by the crowds or someone bumping into him, proved the donkey’s point – when you have the Shecina on your mind and have an awareness of what being in Hashem’s presence means, nothing else should bother you.  If it does, you are at fault.  (Based on Midrash Moshe)

 

R’ Ovadya writes in a teshuvah (Yechaveh Da’at vol 1) that there is still a kiyum mitzvah of aliya la’regel in our times.   The Ran in Ta’anis (bottom of 2a in pages of the RI”F) writes that even after the churban, Jews would still gather in Yerushalayim and come to the mikdash for the regalim.  (Side point: the Ran is justifying why in Eretz Yisrael the day to start asking for rain in davening, which is fixed based on the assumption of how long it would take for someone to get home after making aliya la’regel, remains the same even after the churban.  Why is this a question?  Once the date was fixed, shouldn’t the takanah still stand even if the reason no longer applies, so long as there is no beis din gadol b’chochma u’minyan to repeal it?)  Tashbeitz echoes the same, and adds that even in his times, this nes/bracha of no one complaining of lack of space still held true.  The kedusha of Yerushalayim is eternal because  it is the presence of the Shechina; that presence influences the character and attitude of those who visit and those who live there (and maybe even those who aspire to live there) to our very day. 

in a different league of bitachon

I assume everyone has seen this clip of Eliezer Rosenfeld at the funeral for his son hy"d, but in case you haven't:

My son recently told me a vort b'shem RYBS that the machlokes whether to pasken like Beis Shamai or Beis Hillel, whether to pasken like those who are sharper (Shamai) or the majority (Hillel), is an issue only if both sides are in the same league.  But if those who are sharper are so sharp that they are on a different level completely, then the halacha follows that view.  Halacha is like Rabbi Eliezer all over even against a rov because he was on a different level.  RYBS held that it doesn't matter if there is a majority against R' Chaim on certain issues -- R' Chaim is on a different level than everyone else (see Nefesh haRav).

At least relative to where I am holding. it seems that there are people who are just on a different level and are in a different league of emunah and bitachon.  When you see a clip like this, when you see the courage and strength shown, for example, by Rachel Fraenkel last summer in the face of tragedy, it really helps put things in perspective.  Klal Yisrael cries with them over their loss; hopefully Klal Yisrael will take heart and chizuk and grow from their demonstration of emunah. 

crime and punishment

Even though we left parshas Shlach a few weeks ago, I want to post this anyway rather than wait until next year.  Rashi quotes from Chazal that the meraglim had kefitzas haderech and managed to tour the entire land of Israel in only forty days.  Hashem knew that the spies would return a bad report and Bnei Yisrael would be punished with a wait of one year in the desert for every day they spent on the road.  Since Hashem wanted to cap that punishment at forty years, He limited the spies’ travel time to forty days.  A talmid asked my wife’s grandfather, R’ Dov Yehudah Shochet, a great question: why did Hashem have to make this nes of kefitzas haderech to cap the punishment at forty years – why not just mete out half a year for each day spent if it would take eighty days to travel the land, or whatever the calculation would work out to in order to get the desired result?  Where and why is it written in stone that the ratio has to be a year to a day?  Why is that variable immutable, but the amount of travel time it takes to tour the land, a fact built into the teva, can be bent and played with derech nes?

Al korchacha it seems that the punishment for a cheit is not like the sentence a judge issues to a criminal; the punishment for a cheit is a natural outgrowth of the cheit itself.  To use halachic terms as an analogy, I would say the punishment for a cheit is a psik reisha – you can’t cut off the chicken’s head and get an outcome other than death, no matter if you didn’t intend to kill the chicken, because by definition cutting off a chicken’s head means killing it.  By definition, “yom la’shana,” the punishment for one day of being in Eretz Yisrael for the sake of maligning the land results in a one year delay in entering the land.  That is immutable; it’s an a priori rule.  The amount of time it takes to travel the land can be extended or shortened without changing the definition of what “travel” is, but punishment and cheit are by definition one and the same thing. 

The gemara (Chagigah 5) writes that when R’ Yochanan read the pasuk “V’haya ki timtzena oso ra’os rabos v’tzaros” he would cry.  “What hope is there for a servant who is presented with great evils and sorrow?!”  How does a person just “find” himself – “timtzena oso” – in a world of trouble?  Aren’t those troubles the result of a sentence in the beis din shel ma’alah that a person can appeal or ask for mercy to temper?  Again, we see from this gemara that punishment by definition goes hand in hand with the crime.  It’s not some separate decree, but is a natural outcome of sin itself.

collaborative chinuch conference

This past Sunday the YI of Woodmere hosted the second annual Five Towns Community Collaborative Conference on topics of Jewish education.  Once again (my wife and I have gone both years) it was an amazing program with speakers from across the spectrum of the community addressing a host of different topics.  Principals, teachers, parents, psychologists, Rabbanim and Rebbetzins, all gathered together to talk about one topic: how can we educate our children better.  There day consisted of a keynote address by Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski, the noted psychiatrist, and then you had a menu of about six options for each of five sessions that ran until the early afternoon.  Except for one session where we overlapped, my wife and I went to different speakers and then compared notes afterwards.  Let me give you some thoughts I walked away with:

1. We stress practical observance of mitzvos but are not doing enough to teach yiras shamayim (R. Dr. Twerski).  This is the root cause behind problems of improper use of the internet, to name one.  The way to develop yiras shamayim, as the Rambam writes, is by observing and reflecting on the wonders of the natural world.  What was running through my mind as he spoke about this topic is that today's kids are too wrapped up in their i-machines to even notice their surroundings, much less appreciate the beauty of nature.  It's a catch-22.

2. We -- speakers, parents, etc. -- are all concerned by and large about the same issues, which on the one hand is comforting (no one likes to think their kid is the only one struggling with X or Y), and yet on the other hand means across the board there are holes that need to be filled.  I take the fact that so many people came to such a conference as a positive.  The fact that so many people are concerned and want to raise and educate their kids better and the fact that we can have a shared conversation between parents, teachers, and Rabbis is itself a major first step to solving problems.  

3. One key issue: Phone/tablet devices have an effect on attention span, cognitive ability, not to mention what kids are sharing and watching on them is a problem. 

4. Koren Publishers has what looks like a wonderful new siddur meant for elementary school kids and a siddur curriculum that goes with it.  We bought one of their other siddurim meant for high school age/adult for one of my kids.  Certain things that caught my eye: I like the little thought questions inserted next to the kri'as haTorah sections; I like the idea of putting each bracha of shmoneh esrei on a separate page, but thought maybe some commentary or something should have been stuck on those pages to fill up some of the white space; the guide to the year in the back is nice, but a more comprehensive guide to halachos of tefilah (e.g. what's in the back of the Artscroll) may be better; I like the commentary sections that raise questions to think about rather than spoonfed insights and answers.  I was surprised there was not even a short comment to explain or provide context for the bracha of "shelo asani isha." 

when did the battle in Chormah take place?

It has been another busy week with not much time to think about the parsha, so apologies for having little to say. 

In a few brief pesukim the Torah relates how the Canaani king of Arad waged war against Bnei Yisrael, and after taking hostages, was defeated.  The land in which this battle took place was renamed Chormah (21:1-3).

Interestingly, we find a nearly parallel story in Sefer Shoftim (ch 1):

 וּבְנֵי קֵינִי- חֹתֵן מֹשֶׁה עָלוּ מֵעִיר הַתְּמָרִים אֶת-בְּנֵי יְהוּדָה מִדְבַּר יְהוּדָה אֲשֶׁר בְּנֶגֶב עֲרָד וַיֵּלֶךְ וַיֵּשֶׁב אֶת-הָעָם:
וַיֵּלֶךְ יְהוּדָה אֶת-שִׁמְעוֹן אָחִיו וַיַּכּוּ אֶת-הַכְּנַעֲנִי יוֹשֵׁב צְפַת וַיַּחֲרִימוּ אוֹתָהּ וַיִּקְרָא אֶת-שֵׁם-הָעִיר חָרְמָה:

Again, we have a battle waged against the Canaani, the place is named Arad, the enemy is defeated and the conquered territory is named Chormah.

Didn't that already happen in Moshe's days? 

One possibility is that the conquest of the Canaani was started in Moshe's time, and some of the territory ('shem ha'makom')was named Chormah.  Eventually the war was completed later in history and the particular city that closed the event was given the same name ('shem ha'ir'). 

Ramban offers that as a second possibility, but first comments as follows:

והשלים עוד בכאן לספר, כי החרימו ישראל גם את עריהם אחרי בואם בארץ כנען אחרי מות יהושע לקיים את נדרם אשר נדרו ויקראו שם הערים חרמה. והוא מה שנאמר בספר שופטים (א טז): ובני קיני חותן משה עלו מעיר התמרים את בני יהודה מדבר יהודה אשר בנגב ערד, ושם כתוב (פסוק יז): וילך יהודה את שמעון אחיו ויכו את הכנעני יושב צפת ויחרימו אותה ויקרא את שם העיר חרמה, ושם נשלם הנדר הזה.
אבל השלים הכתוב להזכיר העניין בכאן,

According to this approach, the Torah is referring to that very same event that occurred later in Sefer Shoftim in order to bring the story here to its conclusion. 

How can the Torah reference a historical event that was yet to happen?  Ibn Ezra comments as follows:

ורבים אמרו:
כי זאת הפרשה יהושע כתבה ...ומצאו שבני יהודה קראו שם המקום חרמה,

This is one of the places where Ibn Ezra throws out the possibility of pesukim in the Torah being written later in history by people other than Moshe.

Abarbanel puts two and two together and writes that although Ramban didn't spell it out because he didn't want us to choke on a chicken bone or on the cholent, but he must have believed that this pasuk was added at a later point in history in order to complete the story.

Wow!  Two Rishonim who hold that a pasuk was not written by Moshe Rabeinu!

Or maybe not.  Let me quote the rest of the Ibn Ezra:

 ולא אמרו כלום כי אותו המקום יקרא בתחלה צפת וזה מלך ערד והאמת שני מקומות ורבים במקרא כמו הם

The place referenced in Shoftim south of the lands of Arad is called Tzefat and later the name is changed to Chormah.  That's a different place than the land of Arad itself, which our parsha is speaking about, and which happens to share the same name Chormah.  Ibn Ezra rejects out of hand the possibility that this pasuk was added later.  (If you hold on the basis of Ibn Ezra's comment to the last 12 pesukim in the Torah and a few other hints that Ibn Ezra did in fact have no problem with the idea that someone other than Moshe added pesukim to the Torah, the question you have to address is why he takes such issue with that idea here.)

Rav Chavel in his footnotes to Ramban rejects the Abarbanel's conclusion and suggests that there is no proof simply from the fact that Ramban sees a pasuk as referring to a later historical event that it was written then.  Perhaps Moshe wrote it to complete the story based on what he foresaw through nevuah. 

Abarbanel himself suggests that we are dealing with two separate and very different battles.  In the time of Moshe the Canaani tribes left their land in order to go out and wage war against Bnei Yisrael.  The episode in Shoftim is a different battle that took place when Bnei Yisrael entered Eretz Yisrael and fought that Canaani tribe on its home turf.  If Abarbanel is right, then we understand on a pshat level why Chazal (quoted by Rashi) identify this Canaani as Amalek.  Just as Amalek went out to fight against Bnei Yisrael even though they were not under attack, so too, these Canaani people went out from their home territory and picked a fight that was unnecessary.  This point may also help answer the Ohr haChaim's question of why we don't find any reaction of fear or worry on the part of Bnei Yisrael even though a captive was taken (he does not see the tefilah and neder as a sign of fear) even though when Yehoshua loses a small number of men in the battle of Ai he is worried.  (It's interesting that Ohr haChaim reads the news of even one isolated capture of a hostage as cause for alarm.  Many other meforshim, e.g. see Seforno, Ramban, take the opposite view and read it as a positive outcome -- a war was waged and no one was killed, no one but one isolated maidservant was taken captive. Bnei Yisrael must have been doing something right.)  This difference is this battle was not a battle waged for the conquest of Eretz Yisrael; it was similar in nature to the fight against Amalek, outside the boundaries of the land.  Failing to win a war for the sake of yerushas ha'aretz, a milchemes mitzvah backed by Hashem's promise to deliver the land, was taken to be a far more serious event.  (On a parenthetical note, in a post to Shlach I mentioned a Noam Elimelech that "Negev" alludes to chochmah, as 'kol harotzeh l'hachkim yadrim.'  I didn't look to see if anyone says it, but maybe the identification of Canaani as Amalek because they come from the Negev is not so much a geographical point, but rather alludes to the idea that the seven nations of Canaan represent the seven midos, while Amalek is an enemy on a higher plane of negative chochmah.)

One final point on the captive taken and the issue of smichus haparshiyos between this episode and the death of Aharon: at first glance the connection is that it was Aharon's death (and the loss of the ananei ha'kavod) which emboldened the Canaani to attack.  The Ralbag, however, adds a positive lesson: it  was the merit of the proper mourning of Aharon that led to Bnei Yisrael being rewarded with such a resounding victory.  Some people are crippled by loss; proper mourning means being inspired to overcome obstacles and achieve greater things.  I would like to connect this idea to the message of the one captive taken.  It's a strange thing -- if we look at events the way other nations look at events, then the meforshim who see the loss of only one captive as a resounding victory are right.  What other nation would think of the loss of just one person taken captive as a tragedy given the potential for far greater calamity during war?  Yet Klal Yisrael doesn't think like that.  To this very day we as a nation cry for even a single solider that the enemy takes from us.  If it doesn't bother us, we have to ask the Ohr haChaim's question of why not.  Where does that attitude come from?  I would like to suggest that it comes from Aharon.  The reason Aharon was mourned by 'kol beis Yisrael' is because it was perceived that he cared for 'kol beis Yisrael' -- not just as a nation, but for each individual.  Aharon was now gone.  How would Klal Yisrael react when just one 'minor' person was taken captive?  The message of the victory at Chormah is that Aharon's legacy continued and was absorbed by the nation.  Each individual counts.

Rambam writes that anyone who stood at Sinai believes in Moshe's nevuah --what about Korach?

The Yerushalmi in Cheilek writes that Korach was guilty of denying two ikkarei emunah: 1) he was kofer in the nevuah of Moshe Rabeinu; 2) he denied Torah min ha’shamayim. (Nonetheless, at least some Tanaim as well as the Midrash hold that Korach and his camp did not lose their olam ha’ba like other kofrim.) The Brisker Rav explained that this is what Moshe meant by the double-phrasing of, “B’zos teid’un ki Hashem shelachani … ki lo mi’libi.” (16:28) “Ki Hashem shelachani” is an affirmation that Hashem appointed Moshe to be a navi; “Ki lo mi’libi” is an affirmation that all of Torah is min ha’shamayim and not made up by Moshe.

Since earlier in the week I posted about whether/how tefilah can tilt the scales of bechirah, I wanted to follow up with a problem raised in the chumash shiurim from R’ Eliyahu Baruch Finkel from the Mir. The Rambam writes in Iggeres Teiman that if someone denies the authority of Moshe’s nevuah it is a sign that that individual was not present at Har Sinai when Hashem declared, “V’gam becha ya’aminu l’olam,” that after seeing mattan Torah it would be impossible to question the authority of Moshe Rabeinu. Two problems with the Rambam: 1) Korach serves as a counterfactual, as Korach was at Har Sinai, and yet he denied both the nevuah of Moshe Rabeinu and the fact that Torah was given min ha’shamayim; 2) how can the Rambam say no one can deny belief in Moshe’s nevuah – doesn’t that take bechira chofshis off the table at least for this item?

Rav Shach (as quoted in the sefer) answered that the Rambam does not mean denying Moshe’s nevuah would be impossible -- all the Rambam meant is that the scales are tilted decidedly against such a belief. Bechira chofshis doesn’t mean you have to have a 50-50 choice. It can be a 99-1 choice, so long as you are free to make it.

Coming back to the issue of Moshe’s tefilah for Yehoshua interfering with his free choice, based on this approach so long as Yehoshua could choose which path to follow, even if Moshe’s tefilah made the possibility of his choosing badly into a remote possibility, his bechira chofshis remained intact.

The problem with this answer is it that for all intents and purposes it undermines the Rambam’s point. The Rambam asserts that if you deny Moshe’s nevuah it means you weren’t at Sinai – why? Maybe the denier was at Sinai, like Korach, but simply chooses to be part of the 1%?

I’m not comfortable with this idea of a 99-1 shot still being called a free choice, and I don’t think I’m the only one that has problems with it. Rav Dessler in Michtav vol 1 develops the idea that there is a “nekudas habechirah.” In theory, I could wake up tomorrow morning and decide to join the circus. The likelihood of that happening is beyond remote. I could decide to go out to McDonalds for supper tonight. Again, the likelihood is remote. Skipping McDonalds is not something I choose to do – it’s not even on my radar screen of possibilities. Davening ma’ariv at 8:30 instead of later at the zman is something I may choose to do, or might not. That’s my nekudas habechira – it’s a decision that requires I actively exercise my ability to choose. Bechirah chofshis doesn’t mean we have to decide every day whether to eat kosher, to daven, etc. What it means is that we have to choose between the narrow menu of options on our radar screen at that moment. I would read the Rambam as saying that once there was a declaration of “gam becha ya’aminu l’olam,” the possibility of choosing otherwise may remain open, just like the possibility of my joining the circus tomorrow remains open, but I think it places it outside the nekudas habechirah.

Let me put the answer the Steipler gave into my own words. There are people who believe the moon landing was a hoax. There are people who believe Martians have landed on earth. People believe all kids of outlandish things with no basis or evidence to back them up. What the Rambam means is that a rational person who stood at Sinai could not entertain the belief that Moshe is a liar. An irrational person, or a person motivated by ta’avah or ga’avah to make irrational choices, may believe anything. Rashi asks: Korach was an intelligent person – why did he get involved in “shtus,” foolishness? In other words, why was he making a choice that defied rationality?

more on why Kaleiv went to Chevron and an Ishbitzer on the law of non-contradiction

“Alu zeh ba’negev v’alisem es ha’har…” (13:17) Did the meraglim really need Moshe Rabeinu to give them travel directions? Couldn’t they figure out on their own where to go and how to get there?

A few years ago we looked at this Midrash:

למה הדבר דומה? למלך, שהיה לו אוהב והתנה עמו ואמר לו: לך עמי ואני נותן לך מתנה. הלך עמו ומת. אמר המלך לבנו של אוהבו: אעפ"י שמת אביך, איני חוזר בי במתנה שאמרתי לו, בוא וטול אתה! כך הדבר, המלך, מלך מלכי המלכים הקב"ה. והאוהב זה אברהם, שנאמר (שם מא): זרע אברהם אוהבי. אמר לו הקדוש ברוך הוא: בא לך עמי (בראשית יב): לך לך מארצך וממולדתך ומבית אביך. התנה עמו, שיתן לו מתנה, שנאמר (שם יג): קום התהלך בארץ. וכן הוא אומר (שם): כי כל הארץ אשר אתה רואה לך אתננה. אמר לו הקב"ה למשה: אעפ"י שהתנתי עם האבות ליתן להם את הארץ ומתו, איני חוזר בי,

What kind of hava amina is it that because Avraham is dead the promise of Eretz Yisrael is nullified as well? Hashem promised Eretz Yisrael to Avraham for all his descendants to inherit, for generations to come, not as a personal gift to him alone!

The Shem m’Shmuel answers that Hashem’s promise is to deliver Eretz Yisrael to Avraham Avinu; the way Avraham can collect is through that little bit of himself that lives on in each and every one of us. By forsaking the legacy of Avraham, we surrender our rights to that promise. Although one might have thought that the sin of the meraglim was so severe as to breach that link to Avraham, the Midrash teaches us that the promise is still intact.

In light of this perhaps the reason Kaleiv went to daven specifically at Chevron is because he wanted to reinforce that link with the Avos, with Avraham Avinu, as that was the guarantee that Klal Yisrael would inherit the land.

Furthermore, as E. noted in a comment to last week’s post, recall that Ya’akov Avinu sent Yosef from Chevron to meet his brothers. Chazal comment that this was an “eitzah amukah” from the “y’sheiney Chevron,” those who rest in Chevron, i.e. Avraham Avinu, the only one of the Avos buried there at that time, which set into motion the wheels of this plot that would ultimately lead to galus Mitzrayim (apparently this was the best way for that onesh to play itself out). Perhaps Kaleiv saw that the plot of the meraglim would lead to a “bechiya l’doros,” an even greater galus, and so he came back to the “y’sheiney Chevron” to try to ask them this time to intercede to stop that plot rather than further it along.

The gemara in Pesachim (88) tells us that Avraham called the Har haBayis a mountain, Yitzchak called it a field, Ya’akov a house. Moshe told the meraglim first to go south, to the negev. “Ha’rotzeh l’hachkim yadrim” – first, think about what you need to accomplish (see Noam Elimelech). Then, “v’alisem es ha’har,” go climb that mountain – connect with the legacy of Avraham Avinu who called the resting place of the Shechina a mountain, because it is through reinforcing that connection that Eretz Yisrael will become ours.

Now that I’ve said my 2 cents, let me add a thought from the Ishbitzer (in Na’os Desheh). Kaleiv was caught between two incompatible desires: he wanted to get to Eretz Yisrael, and at the same time, he wanted to be with his rebbe, Moshe Rabeinu, who he now knew (thanks to the prophecy of Eldad and Meidad) was not going to make it there. Back in January I posed the following question: does G-d “obey” the law of non-contradiction? The first time we have this question raised, or actually not raised, is when Avraham was given the command to bring Yitzchak as an olah even though Hashem had previously promised him “ki b’Yitzchak yikarei lecha zara.” The two statements are incompatible – yet Avraham was not perturbed in the least. The resolution is not finding a sevara or a peirush Rashi to reconcile the statements, but rather accepting the existence of the contradiction. That’s what Kaleiv was seeking in Chevron – a way to have his cake and eat it, a way like Avraham Avinu, to live with contradictions, and thus to have both Eretz Yisrael and his kesher with Moshe Rabeinu.

can you daven for Hashem to interfere with someone's bechira?

The Torah at the beginning of Shlach tells us that Moshe called Hoshe'a by the name Yehoshua (see Ramban re: exactly when his name was changed, as he was called Yehoshua already earlier in the war against Amalek), adding the letter yud to the initial k-ey, because Moshe davened that "K-h yoshiacha mei'atzas meraglim," that Hashem should spare Yehoshua from the plot of the spies.  The Maskil l'David asks how such a tefilah could work.  Every person is given the opportunity of free choice.  How could Moshe ask Hashem to stop Yehoshua from falling prey to the temptation of the spies' plan -- wouldn't that mean interfering with his freedom of choice? 

(You could learn Rashi that Moshe was davening that Hashem protect Yehoshua from any potential plot to kill him that the spies may have been planning, but I think if you take this approach you get involved in the thicket of problems we've discussed a bunch of times in the past about whether hashgacha overrides human's ability to choose and act freely.)

This is different than the gemara (Shabbos 156) where R' Nachman's mother, after hearing from astrologers that he would grow up to be a robber, told him to always wear a yalmukah and to daven that he be spared that fate.  Maharasha asks: how can you ask Hashem to sway your free choice?  The Tiferes Shlomo similarly asks how we daven each day, "Hashiveinu Avinu l'torasecha..."  Aren't we asking Hashem to tip the scales and make our choices easier?  I think the answer (the Maharasha answers a little differerntly, though maybe this is what he means) in those cases is that the tefilah itself is an expression of choice.  The very fact that a person would daven for yiras shamayim and Torah already means he/she has made a choice to go in the right direction and just needs some help getting there. 

The case of Moshe davening for Yehoshua is similar to the gemara (Brachos 10) where Bruriah tells R' Meir that rather than daven for the evil people in his neighborhood to be punished he should daven for them to do teshuvah.  In both these cases it is a third party -- Moshe, Rabbi Meir -- who is making the choice to daven.  The person who is the beneficiary of those tefilos remains passive, not making any choice or committment, perhaps not even aware of the tefilos said on his behalf.  The Maharasha in Brachos asks how do you square this idea of asking Hashem to tilt the scales of free choice for someone with the rule that "hakol b'ydei shamayim chutz m'yiras shamayim?"  He concludes simply, "yesh l'yasheiv."  Good Luck doing so!

(Rav Dessler touches on this issue if you want an answer.  I'm not sure I fully understand it.)

"morasah" or "aina yerusha lach?"

Over at his Mevakesh Lev blog Rabbi Ehrman posted the following question: the pasuk calls Torah a “morashah kehilas Ya’akov,” an inheritance, yet in Pirkei Avos we are told that we have to work at Torah because “aina yerusha lach,” it's not something that you just inherit.  So is it a yerusha or is it not a yerusha?

By coincidence my son’s yeshiva had its annual siyum yesterday and the guest speaker, R’ Ya’akov Perlow, the Novominsker Rebbe, posed this exact question. He quoted the answer of R’ Chaim Volozhiner: Torah is an inheritance for all of Klal Yisrael; it's not, however, an inheritance that belongs to any one person.  Each individual has to earn his own portion in Torah by dint of his own efforts.  The siyum of the yeshiva was a celebration of the efforts of the boys to earn their portion.

Over the years that I’ve had the privilege of attending these siyumim with my son there have been some guest speakers who dazzled with their brilliance, some who had great stories, some who spoke on the masechta. I have to say one thing about the Novominsker’s address: when he spoke, you sensed that everything he said came directly from the heart. He spoke of seeing people in the audience whose grandparents he knew as a young man, and now these same people are themselves grandparents and are zocheh to attend a siyum made by their grandchildren. He spoke of vividly remembering a time when it was thought that everything was lost and Torah would never be rebuilt, at least not on these shores, and yet here we are today, with boys finishing masechtos. The gemara in Shabbos says that Abayei used to make a siyum for all the Rabbanan when a talmid finished a masechta. The Novominsker explains that the siyum is not a simcha only for the individual, but it’s a simcha for the community, for all the Rabbanan,, as it shows the continuity of Torah, the bridge between those past generations and the new generation of bnei Torah our yeshivos are producing.

I think that sums up why on a sunny Sunday afternoon I and other parents and community members give up our time to attend the siyum. The menahel mentioned that last time the yeshiva learned Baba Basra (6 years ago, if I’m not mistaken) there were 19 boys who finished the masechta. This year there were 40. That’s on top of boys making chazarah siyumim on masechtos learned in previous years. You don’t unfortunately have to look too far to find young people on the wrong track these days. It’s nice once in awhile to take time out and appreciate that there are young people who are on the right track.  They are making the morasha of Klal Yisrael into their own personal yerusha, and that is a simcha for us all.  

I will just add one thing to the Novominsker's message.  Every individual must put in his own effort to acquire Torah, but I don't think that is quite enough.  One needs an environment that encourages those efforts, a peer group that shares the same goals, role models who embody the ideals that one is striving for.  I usually avoid mentioning the specific schools my children attend, but in this case I'm going to make an exception for the sake of expressing hakaras hatov to Yeshiva Far Rockaway and its Rosh Yeshiva, its Rebbeim, and staff.  I am noge'a b'davar with it comes to my own son, so I will just say this about his peers that he has grown up in the yeshiva and gone through the system with: they are all fine young men, bnei Torah, with wonderful midos.  Yes, we parents can give ourselves a pat on the back, but I don't think year after year these boys would be finishing masechtos if it was not for the environment and chinuch the yeshiva has given them.  

the "ruach acheres" that motivated Kaleiv

Why did Kaleiv alone go to Chevron (How do we know no one else went? Because it says “va’yavo” in the singular, while the rest of the parsha speaks in the plural)? Rashi writes that Kaleiv went to daven at the graves of the Avos. The Netziv takes a different approach woth taking note of. He points out that the mighty giants, which the Mergalim focused on in their effort to discourage conquering the land, lived in Chevron. Chevron was, as Rashi notes, a cemetery. Chevron was, in other words, a highly fortified, difficult to conquer, unattractive piece of real estate – this is the last place you would want to visit or put on your travel brochure. Yet that’s exactly where Kaleiv chose to go. Kaleiv deliberately put himself in the eye of the storm; he deliberately entered into a situation where his bitachon in the promise that this was the land of milk and honey, that this was a land that could be conquered, was put to the greatest test. When the Torah writes about Kalaiv and Kaleiv alone that, “Eikev haysa ruach acheres imo va’yimalei acharei,” it is not referring to standing up against the other spies, as even Yehoshua did that. Rather, it is referring to this act of putting his own bitachon to the test. “Vayimalei” has a dagesh chazak, writes Netziv (31:12), because of the strength it took to pass such a test.   

The Netziv doesn’t fill in the gaps and leaves us to think about why Kaleiv would take the risk of putting himself in such a situation and what the fact that he did so says about the character of Kaleiv (=Yehudah) vs. that of the other spies, and in particular Yehoshua (=Yosef). It sounds to me like the Netziv’s approach is almost the opposite of Rashi’s. One goes to daven at kevarim when one faces a situation of danger, of doubt, of uncertainty. Doing so does not strike me as being an act of confidence. According to Rashi, it seems Kaleiv felt himself in need of help. According to the Netziv, Kaleiv was so confident in his bitachon that he felt he could put himself to an extreme test, an uncalled for test.  

The Alshich has a different hesber of why Kaleiv alone is singled out for having "ruach acheres imo."  It was Kaleiv's anscestor Yehudah who boldly asked Ya'akov Avinu, "Haker na ha'kesones bincha hi," asking whether Ya'akov recognized the bloody coat he presented as the one belonging to Yosef.  It was Yehudah who took the lead in trying to get rid of Yosef and in deceiving Ya'akov.  Even though Kaleiv, as representative of Yehudah, carried with him greater baggage of wrongdoing more than any of his peers, a "ruach acheres," that could easily have dragged him down, he rose about it.  Perhaps in light of the Netziv we could say that the daring and boldness, the confidence that he would be proven right, that Yehudah showed in the past and which led to a negative outcome, are exactly what allowed Kaleiv to not follow the lead of others and instead set out in his own direction, here to a positive end.  (The connection to the story of Yosef and his brothers is deeper than that, as Yosef's charge that "meraglim atem" speaks directly to the events of our parsha, but that's for another post another time.)

There is another important Netziv in this week’s parsha to keep in your mind when you read the news each day. “Tovah ha’aretz me’od me’od” – Eretz Yisrael is not just good, it’s very good. What does that mean? Back in Parshas Braishis the Torah tells us that when Hashem finished creation he saw that it was “tov me’od,” Chazal interpret this as a reference to the malach ha’maves. What’s good about that? The Netziv explains that when people have it too good all the time, they forget where all that goodness comes from – they take what they have for granted. The world needs a malach ha’maves / satan because the threat of things going wrong and taking a turn for the worse at any moment keeps us on our toes and reminds us that we are dependent on G-d. The world is actually a better place because of the creation of evil. When it comes to dealing with other lands, Hashem (at least as we perceive his interaction with the world) takes a hands off approach – things are as they are, same old same old. Not so in Eretz Yisrael. There, the land is “tovah.. me’od,” under constant supervision, under constant threat of things changing in response to our behavior. Nothing can be taken for granted. Yet, that very threat means we have an ongoing and constant reminder of Hashem’s presence and a relationship with Him. It makes Eretz Yisrael better than any other place in the world.

“V’havi osanu el ha’aretz ha’zos u’nesana lanu eretz asher hi zavas chalav u’devash.” The Netziv points out that the modifier “zevas chalav u’devash” could have been placed after the first time “ha’aretz” appears in the pasuk. Why put it as a separate clause at the end? He answers that had it been put at the beginning, the pasuk would mean that Hashem brought us, “havi osanu…,” to a land that was in perpetuity a land of milk and honey. But that’s not the case. It’s only after we are in the land that “u’nesana lanu eretz… zavas chalav u’devash,” that we are given, if we deserve it, the blessings of it being a land of milk and honey. We have to earn those blessings and they can just as easily be taken away as given.

the blessing of a punishment

1) Tosfos (Zevachim 102) quotes a Midrash that Aharon begged Moshe to have mercy on Miriam because he worried that were she to become a metzora, he would not be able to be metaheir her.  Since a kohen cannot pasken on the negaim of a relative and there were no other non-related kohanim to turn to, Miriam would be out of luck. Tosfos asks: if Aharon couldn’t pasken on the nega, then he couldn’t be metamei Miriam either, so what was he worried about?!

The Netziv answers that Aharon was in fact worried about exactly that – that he would be unable to do anything, not be metamei or metaheir. If nothing happened, then Miriam would have to live without any absolution for her sin. Not having a kapparah is worse than suffering the pain of being a metzorah for a week and earning forgiveness.

2) The Torah tells us that Hashem appeared “pisom,” suddenly, to Moshe, Aharon, and Miriam. Netziv explains that the intent was to shock. We understand why Hashem wanted to shock Miriam and Aharon, but why shock Moshe? I would have said that Hashem wanted to demonstrate the difference between Moshe and his siblings. Moshe was so attuned to G-d’s presence that he might not startled by the G-d’s appearance in the name way his brother and sister were, proving the superiority of his level of nevuah. Netziv, however, answers that when Hashem first appeared to Moshe way back in parshas Shmos, he turned Moshe’s staff into a snake and Moshe drew back in fear (4:3). Considering that he was in G-d’s presence, Moshe had nothing to fear, but the reaction was spontaneous and instinctive – he didn’t pause to think. As a punishment for that instinctive withdrawal, Hashem sprung his presence on Moshe now and shocked him.

I don’t get it – why would Hashem mete out punishment now for something that occurred much earlier, before Moshe’s shlichus even started? 

Perhaps the answer is that the fact that Moshe was being punished for such an infraction was itself a testimony to his greatness. An instinctive reaction would never count against a lesser person and they would never be blamed. It could only count against a person on the level of a Moshe Rabeinu. Therefore, precisely in this context, where the Torah comes to testify to Moshe’s greatness, Moshe receives a punishment for what until now had been overlooked.

the root cause of complaints

When Moshe asked Yisro to stay on and travel with Bnei Yisrael to Eretz Yisrael, he said to his father-in-law, “V’hayisa lanu l’einayim.” The Targum explains that Moshe was telling Yisro that he had witnessed with his own eyes the tremendous nisim that Bnei Yisrael experienced in the desert. How could he walk away from that?

Later in the parsha when Bnei Yisrael complain about their lack of meat, the Torah tells us that Hashem was angry and “b’einei Moshe ra.” (11:10) The Chasam Sofer connects this phrase of “einei Moshe” with the previous comment of “v’hayisa lanu l’einayim” – the “einei Moshe” was Yisro! If Yisro, who joined Bnei Yisrael in the midbar, could be expected to come to emunah and trust Hashem based on what he had seen, surely the same could be expected of Bnei Yisrael who had also seen Yetzi’as Mitzrayim and kri’as Yam Suf! The “einei Moshe” acted here as a kitrug that caused the “ra,” caused the midas ha’din, to be further angered at Bnei Yisrael.

 This, explains the Chasam Sofer, is what Miriam was complaining about when she said that the “isha kushis,” Moshe’s marriage to Tziporah, was the cause of problems. Tosfos writes that “kashim geirim l’Yisrael k’sapachas” because geirim are more careful in mitzvos than those who are FFB; the midas hadin asks why BN”Y do not rise to the same standard. Miriam thought that the presence of Yisro and Tziporah made Bnei Yisrael’s behavior look even worse in contrast.

(Parenthetically, the Ishbitzer connects this whole desire for meat back to the beginning of Braishis. It was only post-flood, post man’s downfall, that mankind acquired a heter to eat meat because it was only in that state (see Ishbitzer for the hesber) that the animal word would lend itself for tikun through achilah. Bnei Yisrael were on a spiritual high post-mattan Torah and post-Mishkan dedication, similar to Adam pre-cheit, but they wanted down from those heights and wanted back the post-fall tikun of eating meat. See also Sefas Emes in a number of pieces -- “Hisa’vu ta’avah,” (11:4) Bnei Yisrael wanted to be ba’alei ta’avah again, to be challenged by a yetzer ha’ra they could earn points by overcoming. This is reminiscent of the way a number of meforshim understand the sin of Adam.)

Putting aside the Chasam Sofer’s pilpul, the reaction of “b’eini Moshe ra” is not the response we are used to hearing from Moshe Rabeinu. Even after the cheit ha’eigel, Moshe appealed to Hashem for mercy – we don’t read that the cheit was “ra” in his eyes. Besides which, Moshe’s opinion is kind of besides the point once the Torah tells us that Hashem thought the complaints of Bnei Yisrael were unfounded and wrong.  

Abarbanel suggests that Moshe’s intent was in fact to elicit G-d’s mercy. Moshe thought that if he displayed his own displeasure and disgust to the point of threatening to walk off the job, G-d would react by telling him that it’s not so bad and affirm the underlying goodness of Klal Yisrael. This time Moshe miscalculated – Hashem gave Moshe the support he claimed he needed in the form of a sanhedrin, and he still meted out punishment to Klal Yisrael.

What’s especially interesting is the order in which Hashem responded to Moshe: first, Hashem went through the process of appointing the 70 leaders to help Moshe, and only secondly did Hashem address the complaint of the people for meat. This whole story of the appointment of the sanhedrin seems to be a sidelight, yet the Torah not only juxtaposes it and links it hand in hand with the story of the people’s complaint , but makes it the primary concern of the parsha. Why?

You can read a great answer in this post at Beis Va’ad. I’ll share another great answer from R’ Avraham Shapira, the former Chief Rabbi and R”Y of Merkaz haRav: Rav Shapira explained that the people may have been complaining about meat, about gashmiyus, but the underlying problem was really a lacking in ruchniyus. Had the people been on the spiritual leve they should have been on, the type of complaints they were raising would not have bothered them.  (So often people run after one pleasure after another, one bauble after another, a new house, a new car, another car, another gadget, and on and on, thinking that if only they had this material thing or that one they could finally be happy, but it’s not a lack of “things” that is really the cause of their complaints, but it’s a lack of any spiritual core to give them nachas ruach.) When a person is spiritually satiated, there is far less to complain about. Therefore, Hashem responded first with the appointment of a sanhedrin, with the appointment of assistants who could help Moshe reach the people and tend to their spiritual needs.  That was the root caused of the problem; the complaints were just a symptom.

first Jewish president?

"He [David Axelrod] also recalled Obama venting in a moment of contemplation, telling him, ‘You know, I think I am the closest thing to a Jew that has ever sat in this office. For people to say that I am anti-Israel, or, even worse, anti-Semitic, it hurts.’"  (link)

I almost spit my coffee across my desk reading this one.  Do you laugh at how absurd it is or cry because more than half the Jews out there believe it when he says it?  Since the title of "first black president" was taken, I guess Obama wants to be called the first Jewish one.

the lowest common denominator doesn't benefit everyone

I noticed that sunscreen has a product protection warning that says, “Keep it out of direct sunlight.” I turned to my wife and said, “You know what I’m going to ask, right?" She just nodded her head. 

In an earlier post I quoted the Ralbag’s explanation of the connection between the parshiyos of the degalim, sotah, and nazir as narrowing the focus from community (the setup of the camp) to family (sotah) to the individual (the nazir). Abarbanel says it’s all about the community. The community benefits from the parsha of sotah because it reduces the possibility of creating mamzeirim. The community benefits from the parsha of nazir because a community needs within it outstanding individuals who are different than the norm. The modern liberal attitude of dumbing everything and everyone down to the lowest common denominator of stupid (e.g. don’t read bedtime stories to your kids because that will give them an unfair advantage) is a bad, bad idea. 

Last week I wrote about Moshe’s initial ambivalence toward accepting the gift of wagons for the families of Gershon and Kehas. I suggested that Moshe did not like the idea of easing the burden of avodas Hashem. “Adam l’ama yulad” – life does not have to be easy; it’s okay to sweat a little when you serve G-d. My wife suggested that since Kehas did the carrying on their shoulders, if the other families were given wagons, Moshe was concerned that the message they would get is that their work and the burdens were less important. You can interpret Hashem’s response as saying to Moshe that his worries were unfounded, that Gershon and Merari would not feel slighted, or you can interpret the response as saying that people will suffer a little pgam to their kavod in exchange for easing their burdens.

The title “nasi” is given to the leader of every tribe except Nachshon ben Aminadav. Why is he left out? The Netziv answers that Nachshon’s sister Elisheva was married to Aharon. The day Nachshon brought his gift for the chanukas hamishkan was a day of tragedy for her, as on that day her children, Nachshon’s nephews, Nachshon and Aminadav were killed. Nachshon’s simcha in celebrating the chanukas hamishkan was therefore muted. The Netziv derives a chiddush in hil aveilus from here: even though aveilus is doche Yom Tov (as discussed two weeks ago), the aveil should temper his celebration. He should do what is necessary to fulfill the mitzvah of simcha, but he should not go all out in enjoying the Yom Tov as he otherwise would.

who says carrying the Mishkan should be easy?

It has been a miserable week at work so I have little to say. Two small points:

1) Rashi writes (5:12) that the Torah uses the word “tisteh” in “ish ish ki tisteh ishto” to suggest that the sotah is guilty of being “tat m’darkei hatzeniyus.” “Tat m’darkei hatzeniyus” sounds like instead of a skirt that reaches three inches below the knee, the sotah wore a skirt only three inches below – a small turn away from the standard of modesty. But that’s not what we’re talking about. The sotah was guilty of violating (at a minimum) the issur of yichud after being specifically warned by her husband not to do so. Why such a benign phrase for an egregious crime?

It’s the slippery slope phenomenon. The situation did not deteriorate to the point where there was kinuy, stirah, and a breach of yichud overnight – it started with small things, with “tat b’darkei hatzeniyus.” Once the snowball starts going down that path, it picks up momentum on its own. The things that happen latter may be said to be almost an inevitable outcome by that point. The guilt the sotah bears is for starting the snowball rolling.

2) There is a machlokes in our parsha between Moshe Rabeinu and the Nesi’im and the Nesi’im won the debate. The Nesi’im brought wagons as a gift to the Mishkan, but at least at first Moshe did not want to accept them. It was only when Hashem gave the OK that he took the gift. The aron was carried by the Levi’im themselves, so it’s only natural that Moshe would have thought the rest of the Mishkan being carried by Levi’im would be the ideal. What was the thinking of the Nesi’im? The Shem m’Shmuel explains that the Nesi’im wanted to prove that the keduhas haMishkan could extend down to the world of the behamis as well. The klei haMishkan were not lowered in stature because they were carried in wagons pulled by animals; those wagons and animals were raised in stature. I can tell you that most days at my job I feel more like a beheima schlepping a wagon than a human being. The Nesi’im want people like me to remember we can connect to the Mishkan even in that state.

That’s a very chassidishe pshat. In half a line the Ne’os Desheh offers a different perspective that has more mussar appeal (even though it’s coming from Ishbitz). The Nesi’im gave wagons because they wanted to help make life easier for the Levi’im. Moshe Rabeinu didn’t understand: who says life, especially a life dedicated to avodas Hashem, should be easy? Who says it’s not better for the Levi’im to have to sweat a little under the burden of the beams? Hashem allowed the gift for whatever reasons he allowed it, but I don’t think that means Moshe Rabeinu didn’t have a point. I am sure my teenage children will disagree : )

Megilas Rus and yishuv ha'aretz

1) “Vayis’u m’Refidim va’yavo’u midbar Sinai…” (Shmos 19:2) Rashi asks why the Torah has to tell us that Bnei Yisrael journeyed from Refidim -- we already know from 17:1 that this was their starting point, the spot where they were camped. Furthermore, the pasuk immediately preceding this one tells us that they came to Sinai – why repeat this detail as well? Rashi answers that the Torah is connecting the arrival at Sinai with the start of the journey: just as the people did teshuvah when they left Refidim, so too they did teshuvah upon their arrival at Sinai.

If the people did teshuvah when they left, why did they need to do teshuvah again when they arrived? 

We see from Rashi that when a person has an uplifting experience (e.g. an inspiring Yom Tov like Shavuos!) what passed for adequate avodah beforehand no long cuts it. What was adequate teshuvah before the arrival at Sinai no longer was good enough. The new experience of Sinai demanded that Bnei Yisrael revisit the past and improve further on what they had done beforehand. A second, more meaningful teshuvah was now needed.

2) My wife pointed out an interesting Midrash that says that Rus and Naomi travelled back to Eretz Yisrael on Yom Tov in violation of the issur techumin. This stands in contrast to the gemara that interprets “asher teilichi eileich” was a response to Naomi warning Rus specifically about the issur techumin. The Shvus Ya’akov suggests that the mitzvah of yishuv ha’aretz overrode the mitzvah derabbanan of techumin. It was because Naomi took this extraordinary step of violating the issur for the sake of returning to Eretz Yisrael that she warned Rus that this was not the halachic norm. This chiddush is meduyak in the pesukim: throughout the perek the megillah refers to “Beis Lechem Yehudah”; however, Naomi is described as returning “lashuv el Eretz Yehudah.” (1:7) Why not “Beis Lechem Yehudah?” Because Naomi did not return all the way home. Once she was in safe territory in Eretz Yisrael she stopped travelling and so as to not exceed the techum more than necessary.

 From the megillah’s opening with of Naomi violating an issur derabbanan for the sake of returning to the land through the end of the megillah where Boaz concerns himself with the geulah of the fields, one of the overarching themes of the sefer seems to be this topic of yishuv ha’aretz.  

the need for order

I thought it’s interesting that even though the family of Kehas was entrusted with carrying the menorah, the shulchan, the aron, the mizbeiach – the holiest objects of the Mishkan -- they still joined their neighbor Korach in rebelling against Moshe. “Oy la’rasha oy l’shecheino,” Rashi writes (3:29). Objects, no matter how holy, are no match for the lure of a personality like Korach.

It’s also interesting that coming close to the aron, which we would think is the greatest source of bracha in the world, could prove fatal. Chazal say that everyone wanted to carry the aron and people pushed and shoved to try to get the job, but anyone who touched the aron died. “Al tachrisu es sheivet ha’Kehasi,” the Torah warns (4:18), and instructs Aharon and his children to assign each individual to a task. The Mishnas R’ Aharon quotes that we see from here that without seder – a proper, organized approach – even the holiest things can prove detrimental.

One final quick point: the Torah tells us that Nadav and Avihu were killed, “u’banim lo hayu lahem,” they had no children. Why is this detail relevant? According to one view in Midrash this is why they were punished – they did not fulfill the mitzvah of having children. Perhaps the phrase could be taken as a metaphor for their approach to avodas Hashem – it was an approach that worked for them as individuals, but could not be passed on or produce peiros. The Meshech Chochmah (parshas Pinchas) writes that we see a tremendous yesod on schar v’onesh from here. When a person is found guilty in court and sentenced, the court does not take into account the effect that sentence might have on others. What about the parent, the wife, the children of the guilty party? Not sure when G-d judges a person. Rashi (Shmos 24:9, see this post) tells us that Nadav and Avihu really deserved punishment for gazing at the Shechina, “vayechezu es ha’Elokim vayochlu vayishtu,” but Hashem did not want to disturb the celebration of mattan Torah by punishing them. Since Aharon and Klal Yisrael would have suffered, even though Nadav and Avihu deserved it, their punishment was delayed. After the fact, during the chanukas hamishkan, when Aharon himself needed a kapparah for cheit ha’eigel to expunge his guilt, they got their due. What the Torah here is telling us is that had Nadav and Avihu had children, it would have mitigated the judgment against them. Had there been a family that would have needed them, Hashem might not have killed them, because their children would them end up suffering unnecessarily. It’s only because “u’banim lo hayu lahem,” they had no one that they left behind, that they were taken.

the life of a king

Chazal ask: Megilas Rus does not teach us issur v’heter, nor tumah v’taharah; why was it written? The Midrash answers that the megillah was written teaches us the reward for gemilus chessed.

(Parenthetically, most people focus on the punchline of the Midrash, but what strikes me is the assumption of the hava amina that the primary purpose of megilos, and I assume other sifrei Tanach, is to teach is halachos. Are these issues -- issur v’heter or tumah v’taharah – what you thought about when reading Megillas Esther?)  

In addition to the theme of chessed that permeates the megillah (see R’ Chaim Friedlander’s Sifsei Chaim that goes on for pages enumerating examples), Rus is also the story of David haMelech’s family. Shavuos is the yahrzeit and birthday of David, and we focus on his lineage. 

It’s not coincidence that these two themes – chessed and malchus – come together. The gemara (Nedarim 24) discusses a case of a person who takes a neder to force his friend give him something. “Lav malkah ana” – the neder makes a statement that “I’m not a king who gives things to you and gets nothing in return.” Being a king, malchus, is about giving to others. The ultimate gomeil chessed, the person who gives and takes nothing in return, is living the life of a king.

simchas yom tov and aveilus

The gemara (M.K. 14b) writes that there is no aveilus on Yom Tov because the mitzvas aseh d’rabim of simchas Yom Tov is doche the individual’s obligation to mourn.

The Rambam paskens (Chagigah 1:2) that both men and women are obligated in the mitzvah of simcha. Ra’avad, however, disagrees. The gemara asks how women could be obligated in the mitzvah of simcha, which is zman gerama, and the gemara answers that “isha ba’alah m’samcha.” Tosfos explains that the gemara means that there is no chiyuv on women to bring shalmei simcha – there is just a chiyuv on their husband to share their korban with them (see Rashi). Kesef Mishneh says that the Rambam in fact agrees with this view; when the Rambam says women are obligated in simcha he means they eat from the korban brought by their husbands, not that they must bring their own korban. The Rambam just did not go into the details.

If women have no independent obligation of simcha, asks the Minchas Chinuch, then why are they not obligated in aveilus on Yom Tov? They have no aseh that is doche their mourning!

Rav Neventzal (quoted in the footnote to his sicha for Parshas Behar) suggests a brilliant answer to this question. The Rambam writes (Chagigah 2:14) that shalmei simcha should be shared with the poor and needy, as a person has a responsibility to see that others have simchas Yom Tov as well. By “aseh d’rabbim” the gemara does not mean an aseh that a lot of people are obligated in – what the gemara means is that my simcha is dependent on others, on the community, being happy as well.  

Were a woman to observe aveilus on Yom Tov, even though she might not have any independent chiyuv of simcha, her being in aveilus would conflict with my personal chiyuv of simcha.  So long as someone in the community is unable to be b’simcha, something is lacking in my kiyum mitzvah as well.

This is a two for one deal: not only is it a tremendous lomdus, it’s a tremendous mussar as well.  A person should not feel shaleim and b'simcha while others are in need.

I would like to suggest another possible answer based on an idea the Rav suggested in Shiurim l’Zecher Aba Mari. RYBS distinguished between the ma’aseh mitzvah of simcha, which entails eating korbanos (or eating meat and drinking wine b’zman ha’zeh), and the kiyum mitzvah, which is a kiyum b’lev of being happy. There is nothing that stops an aveil from having a meal of meat and wine – why does the gemara see a conflict between the mitzvah of simcha and the chiyuv aveilus? Because the gemara understood that the meat and the wine are just a means to and end; it’s the emotional state that they engender which conflicts with and undermines aveilus. Perhaps the Ra’avad’s disagreement regarding the chiyuv of women in simcha is only viz a viz the kiyum b’poel of offering korbanos or other specific actions. However, with respect to the idea of being emotionally b’simcha on Yom Tov, the Ra’avad would agree that both men and women are equally obligated and therefore aveilus is disrupted.

Why do I think there is no ptur of zman gerama for the mitzvah of simcha which is a kiyum b’lev? A few ideas:

1) The Avudraham explains that women are exempt from zman gerama mitzvos because they are busy running a house and therefore the Torah placed fewer obligations upon them. That reason works for mitzvos b’poel, but does not seem to apply to what emotional state one should be in.

2) Before Pesach we discussed a yesod from R’ Leizer Silver that there is no ptur of zman gerama by mitzvos sichliyos. Perhaps the obligation to be happy on a holiday is something intuitive (what is a holiday all about if not being happy?) and therefore women are obligated.

3) Perhaps this secondary mitzvah of simcha (beyond the obligation to b’poel eat korbanos) is only derabannan (see Tos M”K 14b) and the Ra’avad holds that there is no ptur of zman gerama by derabbanans (see post here).

what do Chazal mean when they refer to "pashtei d'kra?"

The gemara Archin 8b darshens that “tzikascha k’harerei E-l” refers to nigei adam, which Hashem in his mercy limits to affecting a person for a week. The continuation of the pasuk, “mishpatecha tehom rabbah,” refers to nigei batim, where the punishment is more severe in that it can stretch out for three weeks.

The gemara then asks, “Pashtei d’kra b’mai?” and brings two similar explanations to the pasuk that read it as saying that G-d shows great mercy in tempering and mitigating the verdict that strict justice would call for.

What do Chazal mean when they refer to “pashtei d’kra?” Despite the word “pashtei” in there, it does not seem to mean what the Rishonim like Rashi call “pshat,” because if you look at Rashi or the Metzudas David, they don’t simply quote this gemara. It seems that the gemara’s “pashtei d’kra” is itself a derasha, albeit a derasha that is closer to the plain meaning of the words than the derasha that links the pasuk to nega’im. So are there different levels of derashos? The term “pashtei d’kra” is not all that common, so are these isolated exceptional cases, or in general are there different levels of derash?  Does it make any nafka minah (except in our understanding of things?)

v'es ha'aretz ezkor -- that alone is enough

Just a few quick thoughts - I have not had time to focus much this week.

1) “Af ani eleich imachem b’chamas keri…” I don’t know about you, but sometimes anger gets the best of me and then I’m not really myself. Dibra Torah k’lashon bnei adam, the Torah speaks in anthropomorphic language we can understand.  G-d is going to get angry at us, but even that warning has a silver lining. The message between the lines is that kavyachol G-d too is not really being himself when he is angry. Sometimes anger is warranted and even necessary, but we should know that those moments are exceptions to the rule.

2) Rashi famously comments that “Im b’chukosai teileichu” means that we need to be “ameilim baTorah,” to not just learn, but to toil and work at learning. I went to a shiur last night and the person introducing the main speaker quoted this Rashi and asked (as some meforshim do) why Rashi interprets the word “chukim” here differently than he does in other places. Doesn’t Rashi himself tell us elsewhere (e.g. Parshas Chukas) that chukim refers to laws that have no reason, or laws whose reason eludes us?

I would say (based on the Shem m’Shmeul) that kushya m’ikara leisa – Rashi in fact is consistent with how he understands the word chukim in other places. Amielus baTorah is a chok! Chazal tell us that every day on Har Sinai for 39 straight days Moshe Rabeinu broke his head trying to learn Torah, and for 39 straight days he closed the book at the end of the day and found that he had absorbed nothing and understood nothing. If Moshe Rabeinu couldn’t get it, why should I think I will absorb anything no matter how hard I work at it?  Hashem on day 40 finally took the Torah and put it in Moshe Rabeinu’s brain – he gave it to him as a gift.  What’s the point of all the ameilus if at the end of the day Torah is just a gift anyway? What’s the point of working so hard if “yaga’ti u’matza’si,” at the end of all the yegi’a Torah is just a metzi’ah anyway and there is no causal relationship between the effort and the results?  And if you tell me that effort doesn’t produce the knowledge, but it prepares the person’s brain and persona so he is able to receive the gift of knowledge from G-d, then can you please explain to me how thinking about level of tumah in the sugya of R’ Chanina Sgan haKohanim does that better than my sitting on a mountain and meditating would do it?  You can’t. Don’t bother trying – it’s a chok.  

3) After saying, “V’nasati mishkani b’sochechem” the pasuk promises “v’lo tigal nafshi eschem” (26:11). Ramban asks, if we are worthy of the hashra’as haShechina of having a Mishkan, doesn’t it go without saying that G-d will not be repulsed by us? We gave a few answers to this last year already, and this year a new one caught my eye.

One of my daughter’s recently asked about why R’ Akiva’s students were punished – could they really have acted so badly? I explained to her that the greater the person, the higher the bar is raised and the greater the expectations. Because R’ Akiva championed the idea of “V’ahavta l’rei’acha” being a cardinal principle, his students were held to a higher standard when it came to interpersonal relationships.

We recently read parshas Tazria-Metzora where Rashi quoted the din that a kohen does not pasken on the tzara’as of a chassan during his sheva brachos week. The meforshim ask how it’s even possible for a chassan to get tzara’as then. Tzara’as is a punishment for sin, and we know a chassan is forgiven for all his wrongdoings. Why now davka after his big kapparah would he get tzara’as? One of the answers is that before having his slate wiped clean, the chassan would have been judged like any other regular Joe and whatever he did wrong that might give rise to tzara’as was not significant enough to stand out. Now, after his slate is clean from everything else, the sin that would warrant tzara’as stood out and caused damage. After becoming a chassan the bar was raised, and what passed and was allowed before now stood out for punishment.

This is one of the reasons a yahrzeit is a yom din. The neshoma has a aliya, but with that aliya comes renewed scrutiny – what was overlooked when the neshoma was on a lower level now is unacceptable and needs tikun (whatever that means).

The Wright brothers could build an airplane out of wood and fabric because they were only flying a few feet off the ground. If they tried to fly that plane at 35,000, it would be torn to shreds. If you want to spiritually soar to the stratosphere, you need to make sure you can withstand the pressure.  The higher you fly, the greater demands on your aircraft.

Coming back to our pasuk, the Torah is telling us that we will be zocheh to reach great heights and have the Shechinah among us. Lest you worry that climbing to such great heights will invite greater scrutiny by the midas ha’din, lest you worry that once the bar is raised you won’t past muster, the Torah reassures, “v’lo tigal nafshi escham.”

4) Yom Yerushalayim is almost upon us!  "V'zacharti es brisi Ya'akov v'af v'es brisi Yitzchak v'af es brisi Ya'akov ezkor v'ha'aretz ezkor." (26:42)  R' Charlap explains that if we have the bris of Ya'akov, the Av that was kollel all the midos of the Avos combined, then surely we will be worthy of geulah.  But even if we lack that, if we just have the bris of Yitzchak, we have mesirus nefesh like Yitchak showed at the akeidah , that alone is enough to merit geulah.  And even if we lack that, if we just have the bris of Avraham, we show generosity and do chessed, that too is enough.  And even if we lack all of the above, if we just return to Etetz Yisrael and love the land, rebuild the land, and make it our home, "v'ha'aretz ezkor," that itself is a zechus that will bring us to geulah.

"l'imo u'l'aviv" vs "l'aviv u'l'imo": an interesting Ibn Ezra

1) In last week’s post I implied that the din of “l’hazhir gedolim al he’ketanim” is equivalent to similar dinin in other areas, e.g. the gemara darshens to read “lo tochlum” as “lo ta’achilum” to prohibit a parent feeding ma’achalos assuros to a child. In our context what would be prohibited is a kohen parent actively making his child tamei. Ramban writes that these halachos are basically a d’oraysa form of the issur of mesaye’ah ovrei aveirah. If the child were to eat treifus or do something to make himself tamei without involving the parent, that’s a different story. 

The Tur on the parsha disagrees. When it comes to ma’achalos assuros, the issur is in feeding the katan – there is no responsibility (other than chinuch) for what the child eats on his/her own. “L’hazhir gedolim al ha’ketanim” goes beyond that and makes the parent responsible even for what the child does on his/her own.
2) Two weeks ago I posted Rabeinu Bachyei’s answer to the question of why “imo” precedes “aviv” in the pasuk of “Ish imo v’aviv tira’u.” The Ibn Ezra in this week’s parsha asks why the Torah again places “imo” first, “l’imo u’l’aviv…,” in listing the relatives a kohen may become tamei for. He answers that the mortality rate for women is higher than that for men and therefore it is more likely for the kohen to have to mourn for his mother first. 

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: we know that women’s mortality rate is actually lower than that of men. I would guess that maybe that might not have been true in the Ibn Ezra’s time when childbirth was far more dangerous than it is today, though to be honest, a few sites that I checked say that the mortality rate seems to have been slightly lower even as far back as the 1500’s. Maybe where the Ibn Ezra lived things were different; maybe he just wasn’t aware of the statistics. You’ll have to excuse my lack of interest in pursuing this topic because I don’t like metziyus questions. 

Now for the part I am more interested in: I saw the Tolna Rebbe brings from R’ Dovid Meisels that “makshim ha’olam” on the Ibn Ezra that just a few pesukim later when discussing the laws of aveilus that apply to the kohen gadol the Torah says, “V’al kol nafshos meis lo yavo, l’aviv u’limo lo yitamah.” If the Ibn Ezra is right, why here does the Torah put “aviv” first and not “imo”!? 

He answers with a charifus: the Mishna in Bameh Madlikin says one of the reasons women die during childbirth is that they are not careful in the laws of nidah It’s not specifically nidah, but it means they have a lax attitude in general towards issues of tzeniyus. The gemara in Yoma (47) tells the story of a women who was blessed with 5 children who became kohanim gedolim in the merit of her scrupulous adherence to tzeniyus. We see that the reward for modesty is having a child who becomes kohen gadol. QED that if someone became kohen gadol, it means his mother is not the type woman who would be punished with an early death. (Yes, you can nitpick this answer apart, but it’s sharp anyway).

My wife thought of a far simpler solution: chances are the kohen gadol got the position because his father was the previous kohen gadol and he passed away. The Torah therefore gives primacy to the warning against becoming tamei for a father, as that may be the immediate circumstance the new kohen gadol has to deal with. It’s such a simple answer it makes me wonder why you need the charifus. 

3) Sometimes you have to really review the parsha carefully to know when to correct the ba’al korei. The pasuk that commands making the lechem hapanim (24:5) should be read, “V’lakachta soles v’afiSA [emphasis on last syllable] osa” – the word “afisa” is milra, not mil’eil as you would expect. The Ibn Ezra (see Minchas Shai as well) says it’s a “milah zarah.” I admit ignorance in matters of dikduk, so I hope I’m not wrong, but I think how you read it changes the meaning here. Read milra, it’s a command; read mil’eil, it’s a description. 

4) Last point: Chazal disagreed with the Tzedukim and interpreted that “mimacharas hashabbos” when we start counting the omer means the day after Pesach, not Sunday. If that’s what the pasuk means, why did it not simply say “mimacharas haPesach?” Why use an ambiguous and potentially misleading phrase? See Maharal in Gur Aryeh.  

sometimes showing off is required

Our parsha opens with the din of “l’hazhir gedolim al ha’ketanim,” that kohanim not only cannot become tamei themselves, but also have a responsibility to make sure minors (who are kohanim) do not become tamei either. This din extends to other areas as well (see Yevamos 114). Why does the Torah stress the point davka here in the context of halachos of kehunah? The Kozhiglover answers that the word “l’hazhir” comes from the word “zohar,” shining (I guess RashB”I is still on my mind since Lag b’Omer was this week). The best way to influence ketanim, or anyone, is by serving as a shining example yourself. The kohanim were the leaders of Klal Yisrael; therefore, the Torah stresses to them in particular the need for them to live b’tahara (literally as well as figuratively) so that they may serve as an inspiration for others.

In other words, you have to lead by example. 

The Ohr HaChaim points out an anomaly: the pasuk addresses itself to kohanim, plural, but commands “l’nefesh lo yitamah b’amav…” in the singular. Shouldn’t it say “lo yitamu,” in the plural? The Radomsker darshens the pasuk homiletically: the Torah is charging the kohanim with the responsibility to make sure each and every singular nefesh “lo yitamah b’amav,” does not become lost.

(Just to sharpen the same idea a bit: the Shem m’Shemuel in many places quotes his father as explaining the word “am” as related to the word “omemos.” When you light the barbeque and a scorching fire blazes up, the coals are “lochashos;” when you are done and you have those grey-white coals that are still hot, but are fading out, those are “omemos.” When the Torah speaks of the am, it means folks whose spiritual fire is weak. “L’nefesh lo yitamah b’amav” – don’t let the nefesh of your fellow Jew lose its spiritual vitality and become “b’amav” = omemos, like those dying coals. )

How do you do that? Rashi says on the spot, “l’hazhir gedolim al he’ketanim” – make sure you shine, make sure your fire is bright, and then others around you will want to shine too (based on Tiferes Banim, by the same author as the Darkei Teshuvah).  

A few years ago another blogger posted a dilemma that stuck in my mind. This individual would wake up early in the morning to have time to learn, which was great, but his kids were still fast asleep and never saw the hours he was clocking in front of a gemara. He was wondering if it would be better to switch his seder to a time where his kids would be aware of what he was doing so that they would be able to learn from his example. In other words, he was worried that he was not fulfilling “l’hazhir gedolim al ha’ketanim” because his kids were not seeing him shine. 

It’s sometimes not enough to do the right thing in private; sometimes what’s required is that others be aware of what you are doing so they have an example to learn from. A parent, a teacher, a Rabbi – they need to be seen doing the right thing. The gemara (Yoma 86) writes that R’ Yochanan said an example of chilul Hashem would be his walking 4 amos without learning. It could be that R’ Yochanan was just giving a theoretical example and of course never stopped learning, but the Munkatcher in Tiferes Banin assumes that R’ Yochanan was speaking about something that happened to him. How could R’ Yochanan have gone a moment without Torah? He answers that R’ Yochanan didn’t – R’ Yochanan had Torah on his mind constantly, but it may not have appeared that way to others. Someone might have seen R’ Yochanan going for a stroll and thought, “There goes R’ Yochanan, out enjoying nature,” without realizing that R’ Yochanan was reviewing kol hatorah kulah in his mind at that moment. Who cares what others might be thinking? Because if you are R’ Yochanan, it’s not enough to be engaged in learning and avodah at all times – you have to shine as an example for others as well, and to fail to do so is a chilul Hashem.

R’ Shlomo Zalman’s is medayek in Rashi (Pesachim 68b d”h ba’inan name lachem) that the mitzvah of simcha on Shavuos is “…l’har’os she’noach u’mekubal yom zeh…” It’s not enough to be happy –the happiness has to shine forth, “l’haros,” so others can see it as well.  

two cases of sfeik sfeika in sefirah

 Saw the following question from R’ Yehoshua Menachem Ehrenberg (Dvar Yehoshua):

The S.A. paskens that if someone is in doubt whether he counted sefirah on a previous night he can continue counting the current night with a bracha.

The logic is that there is a sfeik sfeika in the person’s favor: 1) maybe he really didn’t miss counting the previous night; 2) even if he did miss, maybe the halacha follows the view that each night is its own mitzvah.

The S.A. also paskens that if someone asks you during bein ha’shemashos what night it is, you should say “Last night was X” because if you say what tonight it, you won’t be able to count with a bracha.  Since sefirah may only be derabbanan, and when it comes to mitzvos derabbanan kavanah to fulfill the mitzvah may not be necessary, therefore just by telling your friend what night it is you may have already been yotzei.

Why in this case, where you told a friend what night it is during bein ha’shemashos, do we not invoke sfeik sfeika in your favor to allow you to say the bracha: 1) safeik whether bein ha’shemashos is really day; 2) even if bein hashemashos is night, maybe mitzvos derabbanan do require kavanah and your count was meaningless?

What’s the difference between these two cases?