Chazal tell us that before Hashem gave us the Torah, he offered it to the other nations. "What's in this Torah?" asked the bnei Eisav. When Hashem told them that it contained a command not to murder, they turned it down. "Our grandfather was told, 'Al charbecha tichyeh,' so how can we accept a Torah that prohibits murder?" they replied. Hashem went to Amon and Moav, but they too turned down the Torah because it prohibits arayos, which is part of their culture. And so each nation had its chance, but in the end, we alone were the only ones willing to accept the Torah.
Question: murder, arayos, etc. are all among the mitzvos bnei Noach. Eisav, Amon, Moav had to observe these commandments irrespective of whether they accepted the Torah. What did the nations hope to gain by not accepting the Torah? Or, to rephrase the same question, how would kabbalas haTorah have changed their obligations?
I want to present two answers I saw and one that I thought of:
1. The scope of mitzvos is different: In the dictionary of an aku"m, murder means killing another person. Yet, for a ben Torah, murder goes far beyond that. Someone who embarrasses his friend, malbin pnei chaveiro, is guilty according to Chazal of shefichus damim, murder. The same expansive scope is true of arayos, theft, and many other mitzvos. You don't have to walk into a bank and hold it up to be guilty of gezel -- if you just wake someone up too early you have committed gezel sheinah. This is what the nations of the world were rejecting (see R' Nevenzah's sichos where he quotes this from Kelm mussar).
2. Mitzvos bnei Noach are about the law; Torah is about a relationship with G-d. The Netziv in the beginning of Parshas Bechukosai offers an analogy: a doctor prescribes a regimen for good health to a patient; he prescribes the same regimen to his son. However, the doctor does not just tell his son what to do like any other patient and leave it to him -- the doctor in this case wants his son to follow his direction, he wants him to obey and be healthy. The benefit to the son of following the doctor's advice is not just good health, but it is a stronger relationship with his father who is doing the prescribing.
Following the mitzvos bnei noach ensures the good health of society. Following the Torah ensures the good health of our relationship with G-d as well. It was that relationship that the nations rejected.
3. Torah is a culture, not just a set of laws. What Eisav and Yishmael and the other nations were telling G-d is that their culture is one of bloodshed, theft, arayos, etc. The ben Noach laws for them are a brake that forces them to curb their natural instinct, to hold back from being barbarians. That's not what Torah is all about. As the Rambam writes in Shmoneh Perakim, the goal of Torah is transform a person into someone who does not desire bloodshed, or theft, or other crimes -- not simply to avoid acting on those base desires. The goal is to cease being a barbarian, not simply to cease acting out like a barbarian. The nations could not envision changing in that way.
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
Thursday, May 17, 2018
l'mishpichosam l'beis avosam -- the key to kabbalas haTorah
The Yalkut on our parsha writes that when Bnei Yisrael came to accept the Torah, the nations of the world jealously asked why we deserve to come closer to Hashem then they did. Hashem replied to them, "Bring me the records of your yichus... like Bnei Yisrael have." This, says the Yalkut, is why the Torah juxtaposes the count of Bnei Yisrael in our parsha, which entailed each person tracing his lineage "l'mishpichosam l'beis avosam," with the pasuk, "Eileh hamitzvos asher tzivah Hashem... b'har Sinai," which concludes sefer Vayika.
Why should the nations complain? Chazal tell us that Hashem offered them the Torah before giving it to us and they turned him down. They had their chance!
The answer is that the nations complained because the scales were tipped in our favor. When Hashem offered us the Torah, it was an offer we couldn't refuse -- "kafah aleiham har k'gigis." He did not do the same for any other nation.
This is the point the Yalkut comes to resolve.
The halacha (C.M. 205:12) tells us that if someone is coerced to sell something, the sale is valid, but a purchase made under duress has no validity. Chasam Sofer (B"B 48) explains that a seller merely has to relinquish ownership for someone else to step in; a buyer has to establish a new claim to the item, which is harder to do.
R' Noson Gestetner in his sefer on chumash explains that even if Hashem were to hold a mountain above the nations and coerce them to accept the Torah, their acceptance would not be valid -- a kinyan cannot be made under duress. However, when it came to Klal Yisrael, accepting the Torah, it was not a new kinyan -- it was a yerusha that we had form our Avos and previous generations.
"Bring me your yichus records," Hashem told the nations. You are not the bnei Avraham, Yitzchak, and Ya'akov. You cannot claim the Torah as a yerusha, and will not give it over as a morasha, as one generation does not connect to the previous one. Therefore, kaga aleihem had k'gigis would not help you absent a real desire to receive the Torah.
Nice pilpul, but I think you can say perhaps a simpler pshat as well. The nations want closeness to Hashem. Hashem's answer is that closeness to Him is midah k'neged midah contingent on one thing: our closeness to each other. "L'mishpichosam l'beis avosam" -- every member of Klal Yisrael connects to his family, to his sheivet, ultimately to the tzibur as a whole. We connect with each other, therefore, we can connect to Hashem. Only Klal Yisrael has this virtue.
Why should the nations complain? Chazal tell us that Hashem offered them the Torah before giving it to us and they turned him down. They had their chance!
The answer is that the nations complained because the scales were tipped in our favor. When Hashem offered us the Torah, it was an offer we couldn't refuse -- "kafah aleiham har k'gigis." He did not do the same for any other nation.
This is the point the Yalkut comes to resolve.
The halacha (C.M. 205:12) tells us that if someone is coerced to sell something, the sale is valid, but a purchase made under duress has no validity. Chasam Sofer (B"B 48) explains that a seller merely has to relinquish ownership for someone else to step in; a buyer has to establish a new claim to the item, which is harder to do.
R' Noson Gestetner in his sefer on chumash explains that even if Hashem were to hold a mountain above the nations and coerce them to accept the Torah, their acceptance would not be valid -- a kinyan cannot be made under duress. However, when it came to Klal Yisrael, accepting the Torah, it was not a new kinyan -- it was a yerusha that we had form our Avos and previous generations.
"Bring me your yichus records," Hashem told the nations. You are not the bnei Avraham, Yitzchak, and Ya'akov. You cannot claim the Torah as a yerusha, and will not give it over as a morasha, as one generation does not connect to the previous one. Therefore, kaga aleihem had k'gigis would not help you absent a real desire to receive the Torah.
Nice pilpul, but I think you can say perhaps a simpler pshat as well. The nations want closeness to Hashem. Hashem's answer is that closeness to Him is midah k'neged midah contingent on one thing: our closeness to each other. "L'mishpichosam l'beis avosam" -- every member of Klal Yisrael connects to his family, to his sheivet, ultimately to the tzibur as a whole. We connect with each other, therefore, we can connect to Hashem. Only Klal Yisrael has this virtue.
Thursday, May 10, 2018
lo timacher l'tzemisus - redeeem the land
The Mishnas Chasidim, quoted by Rav Teichtel in his sefer Mishneh Sachir on parshas Bechukosai, writes that in the two years he spent in Tzefat in 1718/19 -- almost exactly 300 years ago -- he saw so many houses being built that he felt it could not be anything less than a reversal of the curse of 'v'areichem ye'hi'yu charva," the promise in the tochacha of the land being laid desolate. The development of the city, says the Mishnas Chasidim, is a "siman l'bi'as ha'go'el."
What do you think the Mishnas Chasidim would say were he alive today, looking at the many cranes that dot every neighborhood of Yerushalayim, at the buildings going up all over Eretz Yisrael? What do you think he would say if he witnessed the celebration of Yom Yerushalayim in a rebuilt, modern, Yerushalayim in an independent Jewish state?
Ramban in sefer ha'mitzvot lav 227 discusses the nature of the issur of "lo timacher l'tzemisus." Rashi seems to hold the issur is for the buyer not to return the land, but, as Ramban points out, the formulation of the lav seems to indicate the prohibition is on the seller, not the buyer. Ramban, based on the Yerushalmi, is machadesh that the issur is in selling land to an aku"m, who has no incentive to return it. Ramban then compares the issur of leaving Eretz Yisrael in the hands of aku"m to the mitzvah of redeeming a Jew who is sold into slavery to an aku"m. Just like in that case the Torah tells us that the reason for the mitzvah is "ki li Bnei Yisrael avadim," that we are supposed to be servants only of Hashem, so too, Eretz Yisrael is supposed to be a land dedicated to being a makom Shechina, a place of service to Hashem, which is impossible so long as it is not in our hands.
Rav Teichtel quotes 'Ha'gaon ha'mekubal ish ha'Elokim" R' Dovid Lida (the honorifics are especially noteworthy given the background of who R' Dovid Lida was) as saying that our redemption from galus is directly dependent upon the redemption of Eretz Yisrael from our enemies. Why must the two go hand in hand? Why can't Hashem redeem us irrespective of our establishing a home in Eretz Yisrael? Can't we do that afterwards? Rav Teichtel explains that this is not sisrei Torah, but is implicit in the Ramban's equation of the land in foreign hands to an eved. Hashem treats us middah k'neged middah. We want Hashem to take us out of galus and to restore us to being his, and only his, faithful servants. It's up to us to practice the same middah and redeem his land from foreign control so it can be dedicated to his service.
We should celebrate the fact that we have been zocheh to see the start of that slow process.
Tuesday, May 08, 2018
the location of the mizbeiach
I found the language the Rambam uses when he describes the place of the mizbeiach (Hil Beis haBechira 2:2) to be striking:
ומסורת ביד הכול, שהמקום שבנה בו דויד ושלמה המזבח בגורן ארוונה--הוא המקום שבנה בו אברהם המזבח ועקד עליו יצחק, והוא המקום שבנה בו נוח כשיצא מן התיבה, והוא המזבח שהקריב עליו קין והבל. ובו הקריב אדם הראשון כשנברא קרבן, ומשם נברא; אמרו חכמים, אדם ממקום כפרתו נברא.
What does the Rambam mean here by it being a "masores b'yad ha'kol" -- everybody knows this tradition? Does he mean this tradition goes above and beyond what the "ba'alei mesorah," the leaders of each generation from Moshe through Ravina and Rav Ashi who were charged with preserving and transmitting torah sheba'al peh (as the Rambam writes in the intro to the Yad), dealt with? In what way is this mesorah different than any other mesorah of torah sheba'al peh and why?
Might the opposite be true -- could "masores b'yad ha'kol" mean this is simply a folk tradition and not part of what was preserved by the "ba'alei mesorah?" That strikes me as a far weaker reading than the first one, but I'm throwing it out there just to consider everything.
I haven't seen anyone who discusses this point. Suggestions, as always, welcome.
Thursday, May 03, 2018
a good word -- amaros tehoros
I was not feeling in a writing mood this week, but then I got an uplifting email from someone telling me how much they appreciated the posts and it changed my mind. That person gets the credit for being mezakeh everyone who might read this and learn something. You never know the value of a kind word.
Why a bow and arrow on Lag ba'Omer? When you use a bow and arrow, if you want to shoot an arrow into the air you have to pull back the drawsting toward the ground. The further back down you pull the string, the higher up the arrow will go. Life often pulls us down. Lag Ba'Omer tells us that what we think is a big setback is really just a needed step to shoot even higher. Can you imagine how far R' Akiva thought he had fallen when all 24,000 students of his died? But then the arrow shot upwards again, and it was the whole torah sheba'al peh that was the result.
The Midrash opens our parsha by telling us that "amaros Hashem tehoros" unlike the promises of a human ruler. A human king may make all kinds of campaign promises to build this or fix that, and then the king goes to sleep and maybe never wakes up and all the promises are for naught. (The Midrash is pretty dramatic -- I guess the Midrash could not even conceive of modern politicians who make promises and don't keep them even though they remain alive and well.) Hashem's word is emes for all eternity.
A beautiful idea, but what does it have to do with our parsha? Why stick it here? Just because the word "amaros" is like "emor" and "amarta" in the parsha -- so what?
Secondly, the Midrash gives examples of the promises a human king makes with no guarantee of being able to fulfill them, but it doesn't tell us what promise of Hashem it is talking about.
If you had to choose one word to sum up the theme of our parsha, a good choice would be "tahara." We learn in our parsha about the holiness of the kohen, who cannot become defiled with the dead and who cannot serve as a ba'al mum. We learn about korbanos and the disqualification of mumim. We learn about the mitzvah of sefira that we are engaged in, "u'sefartem lachem" = to make ourselves into sapir, precious sparkling gems, so to speak, ready for kabbalas haTorah. It's all, at least in a symbolic sense, about perfection is serving G-d, about not being spiritually defiled, blemished, unsuitable.
The first Sefas Emes on the parsha asks a basic question: how is it possible for a human being of flesh and blood to become tahor, to purify himself properly to serve G-d? How can any of us, with all the mistakes we make, with all our shortcomings, measure up?
The Besh"t taught "l'olam Hashem devarcha nitzav bashamayim" means that the words of Hashem used to create the world are constantly emanating from Him and constantly causing the world to be recreated. Not only that, but as the Alter Rebbe explains in the second part of Tanya, those words are what are the true essence of what everything is made of. In other words, Hashem's utterance do not cause the world to exist; rather, they are the very stuff of which the world is made, the underlying subatomic subphysical "stuff" of everything that exists.
Says the Midrash in Parshas Kedoshim, "Nasata kedusha l'Yisrael, nasata lahem l'olam, she'ne'emar 'Kedoshim ti'hiyu.'" G-d gave us eternal kedusha. How do you know? Because, answers the Midrash, the pasuk says, "Kedoshim ti'hiyu."
How does that answer the question? All the pasuk says is that we have a mitzvah to be holy?
Based on the Besh"t's teaching the Rebbe of Aleksander answers that the words "kedoshim ti'hiyu" are not just a command, but they are a reality. Just as the words, "ye'hi or" reverberate for all eternity and every moment ensure the recreation of light in the universe, so too, G-d's words of "kedoshim ti'hiyu" reverberate for all eternity and make us holy.
I'm just flesh and blood, a human being with all the faults that go with that -- a spiritual ba'al mum, a person with spiritual tumah enveloping him. How can I get ready for kabbalas haTorah? The answer is "amaros Hashem tehoros" for all eternity. What promise is the Midrash talking about? The promise of "l'nefesh lo yitamah." The promise of "kedoshim ti'hiyu." Our parsha is not just a list of demands, commands. It's a map of the reality of who we are and what we are. Hashem's words give us the koach to be tahor, to be kadosh, for eternity -- no matter if we've fallen, if we've become a little blemished and defiled. That's just the arrow being pulled back. The koach to be better is within us willy nilly because Hashem's words, the words of our parsha, make it so. All we have to do is not spoil that kedusha and tahara, not drive it away.
Why a bow and arrow on Lag ba'Omer? When you use a bow and arrow, if you want to shoot an arrow into the air you have to pull back the drawsting toward the ground. The further back down you pull the string, the higher up the arrow will go. Life often pulls us down. Lag Ba'Omer tells us that what we think is a big setback is really just a needed step to shoot even higher. Can you imagine how far R' Akiva thought he had fallen when all 24,000 students of his died? But then the arrow shot upwards again, and it was the whole torah sheba'al peh that was the result.
The Midrash opens our parsha by telling us that "amaros Hashem tehoros" unlike the promises of a human ruler. A human king may make all kinds of campaign promises to build this or fix that, and then the king goes to sleep and maybe never wakes up and all the promises are for naught. (The Midrash is pretty dramatic -- I guess the Midrash could not even conceive of modern politicians who make promises and don't keep them even though they remain alive and well.) Hashem's word is emes for all eternity.
A beautiful idea, but what does it have to do with our parsha? Why stick it here? Just because the word "amaros" is like "emor" and "amarta" in the parsha -- so what?
Secondly, the Midrash gives examples of the promises a human king makes with no guarantee of being able to fulfill them, but it doesn't tell us what promise of Hashem it is talking about.
If you had to choose one word to sum up the theme of our parsha, a good choice would be "tahara." We learn in our parsha about the holiness of the kohen, who cannot become defiled with the dead and who cannot serve as a ba'al mum. We learn about korbanos and the disqualification of mumim. We learn about the mitzvah of sefira that we are engaged in, "u'sefartem lachem" = to make ourselves into sapir, precious sparkling gems, so to speak, ready for kabbalas haTorah. It's all, at least in a symbolic sense, about perfection is serving G-d, about not being spiritually defiled, blemished, unsuitable.
The first Sefas Emes on the parsha asks a basic question: how is it possible for a human being of flesh and blood to become tahor, to purify himself properly to serve G-d? How can any of us, with all the mistakes we make, with all our shortcomings, measure up?
The Besh"t taught "l'olam Hashem devarcha nitzav bashamayim" means that the words of Hashem used to create the world are constantly emanating from Him and constantly causing the world to be recreated. Not only that, but as the Alter Rebbe explains in the second part of Tanya, those words are what are the true essence of what everything is made of. In other words, Hashem's utterance do not cause the world to exist; rather, they are the very stuff of which the world is made, the underlying subatomic subphysical "stuff" of everything that exists.
Says the Midrash in Parshas Kedoshim, "Nasata kedusha l'Yisrael, nasata lahem l'olam, she'ne'emar 'Kedoshim ti'hiyu.'" G-d gave us eternal kedusha. How do you know? Because, answers the Midrash, the pasuk says, "Kedoshim ti'hiyu."
How does that answer the question? All the pasuk says is that we have a mitzvah to be holy?
Based on the Besh"t's teaching the Rebbe of Aleksander answers that the words "kedoshim ti'hiyu" are not just a command, but they are a reality. Just as the words, "ye'hi or" reverberate for all eternity and every moment ensure the recreation of light in the universe, so too, G-d's words of "kedoshim ti'hiyu" reverberate for all eternity and make us holy.
I'm just flesh and blood, a human being with all the faults that go with that -- a spiritual ba'al mum, a person with spiritual tumah enveloping him. How can I get ready for kabbalas haTorah? The answer is "amaros Hashem tehoros" for all eternity. What promise is the Midrash talking about? The promise of "l'nefesh lo yitamah." The promise of "kedoshim ti'hiyu." Our parsha is not just a list of demands, commands. It's a map of the reality of who we are and what we are. Hashem's words give us the koach to be tahor, to be kadosh, for eternity -- no matter if we've fallen, if we've become a little blemished and defiled. That's just the arrow being pulled back. The koach to be better is within us willy nilly because Hashem's words, the words of our parsha, make it so. All we have to do is not spoil that kedusha and tahara, not drive it away.
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
Ramban the philosopher/mystic vs Ramban the halachist
R' Aharon Lichtenstein zt"l was asked who he would rush to meet first when he got to the olam ha'emes. Who among the pantheon of Rishonim does he admire most? You would think someone steeped in Brisker lomdus like R' Aharon would of course answer "the Rambam," but guess again -- it was Ramban who most fascinated R' Aharon (see the article I linked to). Parshanut, philosophy, mysticism, halacha -- Ramban touches on it all. I want to look at one issue related to our parsha that brings that multi-faceted outlook into sharper focus.
A Jew must sacrifice his life rather than violate any one of the three cardinal sins of avodah zarah, arayos, or murder. However, when it comes to other prohibitions, the Torah tells us "v'chay bahem." It's not clear whether that is simply a matir, a license to avoid the sacrifice of mesirus nefesh, or whether it is a commandment, an order to preserve one's life even at the cost of violating other prohibitions. Tos (Avodah Zara 27b) would presumably take the former position, as they hold that a person can choose, if they so desire, to give up their life for any commandment. The Rambam, on the other hand, holds that one is not allowed to give up one's life unless obligated by halacha to do so, and so presumably he would take the latter position.
The Avnei Nezer (Choshen Mishpat 193) has a fascinating teshuvah in which he discusses whether a person suffering a life threatening illness who is told by doctors that he/she must eat on Yom Kippur is permitted to forgo medical advice and fast anyway. Rather than approach the issue from the perspective of the different viewpoints of Rambam/Tos above, he instead cites at length the Ramban on Parshas Bechukosai who argues that consulting doctors is only for those who are not on the ideal level of bitachon, for those who do not understand that everything is in G-d's hands alone and that illness can be cured by teshuvah. "Mah cheilek b'rofim b'beis osim ratzon Hashem!" Who needs doctors when you have G-d? Most of us are not on that level, so the Torah allows us to live b'derech ha'teva and get medical help for our problems. However, for a person who truly places his trust in Hashem, whatever the doctor says is irrelevant.
R' Ovadya Yosef (Yechaveh Da'at 1:61) discusses this same issue and interestingly, he also cites a Ramban: Ramban in the Milchamos in Sanhedrin (74) writes that not only is it not a midas chassidus for a seriously ill person to fast on Yom Kippur contrary to medical advice, but to the contrary -- a person who does not eat when there is danger in not doing so is liable for taking his own life! (Just for the record, at the end of the section on Moadim in the Shem m'Shmuel there is a letter from the author, the Avnei Nezer's son, to someone in the hospital over Y"K in which he warns the person that they must eat if instructed to do so by doctors. Did he backtrack from his father's position?)
What would Ramban the halakhist writing the Milchamos say to Ramban the philosopher/mystic's argument in his peirush al haTorah? Why is it not a midas chasidus to fast if a person trusts fully in G-d? Will the "real" Ramban please step forward and make his views clear?
Obviously both Rambans are the "real" Ramban. Somehow Ramban the philosopher/mystic saw no contradiction between what he wrote in his peirush al haTorah and what he wrote in the Milchamos. If we only had one or the other, it would be easy for us. But the greatness of Ramban is that he gives us both -- an abundance of riches! -- and leaves it to us to puzzle out how to fit the pieces together. I'll leave it to you to do that : )
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
where home is
Ki tavo'u el Eretz Canann asher ani nosein lachem l'nachala v'nasati nega tzara'as b'veis eretz achuzaschem (14:35). A strange promise! Once we finally merit seeing Hashem's promise to give us the land fulfilled, the Torah tells us that our homes will be plagued with leprosy. Why? What did we do to deserve that? (see Rashi)
Rav Teichtel in his classic Eim haBanim Smeicha interprets the pasuk derech derush as saying that if after G-d is "nosein lachem nachala" and gives us a homeland, we still think of the 5 Towns, Boro Park, Englewood, Teaneck, or even Lakewood, NJ as "home," then "v'nasati nega tzara'as," I will bring tzara'as and tzaros to "beis achuzaschem," that place in galus you still mistakingly think of as home. Sometimes unfortunately we need a wakeup call, a little suffering and discomfort, to appreciate and recognize where home is.
"But what does Jeremy Corbyn or the murder of a Jewish grandmother in France or the other sorrows we see in Europe have to do with me?" asks your typical upper middle class American Jew while eating his dinner at some ridiculously expensive glatt kosher restaurant on some typical Main Street in the suburbs, or if he is more spiritually inclined, while mulling over his Artscroll translated daf yomi in the local shul. The tzaros of galus are over there, but here, in the good ol' USA? Gashmiyus, ruchniyus -- what don't I have here in the comfort of my typical American life?
V'nasati nega tzara'as b'veis eretz achuzaschem... Maybe it's time to learn the lesson from what's happening over there before it gets here, because get here it will.
In 1914 Rabbi Aba Citron, Rav of Petach Tikvah, son in law of the Rogatchover Gaon, was told by the Ottomans that they were expelling him from the country because he was not a citizen, as he had not been born there (see here). His only hope was to take an oath to the contrary. Shevuas sheker! He turned for advice to his father-in-law, who sent, k'darko, just a mareh makom: Kesubos 75. The gemara there darshens the pasuk in Tehillim (87:5) "U'l'Tzion yei'amar ish ish yulad bah..." to refer to "echad ha'nolad bah v'echad ha'mitzapeh li'rosah." It's not a shevuas sheker. When it comes to Tzion, to Eretz Yisrael, the person who pines to be there can just as much call himself "yulad bah" as any sabra.
Let's be real: barring a miracle, all of American and world Jewry are not going to pack their bags and get on Nefesh b'Nefesh flights tomorrow. Ha'levai we all could -- but it's not going to happen.
When it comes to "nolad bah," we are lucky if our grandchildren will have that zechus.
But when it comes to "mitzapim li'rosa," oy to us if we don't at least dream of getting on that flight.
Oy to us if this is our "eretz achuzaschem." We shouldn't c"v need a nega tza'aras to get us to think otherwise.
Sunday, April 15, 2018
2 days of rosh chodesh pre-bayis sheni?
Unless you learned the 4th perek of Rosh haShana, the whole idea of having 2 days of rosh chodesh should strike you are strange / impossible. On day 30 of month X, if 2 witnesses come and say they saw the new moon, then beis din would declare it rosh chodesh and start the new month. If 2 witnesses did not show up, then it would be just another, ordinary weekday and the next day would be rosh chodesh. How do we get 2 days of rosh chodesh?
The Mishna in R"H tells us that for hundreds of years witnesses always came early in the day on day 30 of Elul. One time during bayis sheni they showed up late in the day and it caused all kinds of confusion in the mikdash. The kohanim on that day operated under the assumption that since it was late in the day and no witnesses had come, it would be an ordinary weekday, i.e. no korban musaf, regular shirah during nisuch ha'yayin, etc. When the witnesses did eventually come, it meant the day was in fact rosh chodesh/rosh hashana and a korban musaf was required, the shirah was different, etc. (let's leave the technical details aside). In response to this turn of events R' Yochanan ben Zakai made a takanah: if witnesses show up late, they will automatically be held over until the next day. However, instead of declaring day 30 as not rosh chodesh/rosh hashana, both day 30 and the next day would be celebrated. In other words, day 30 would always be rosh chodesh -- witnesses coming late or coming the next day could only add an extra day, not subtract or change the status of day 30. That, in an oversimplified nutshell, is how we get 2 days.
Based on this account, historically there should never have been a 2 day rosh chodesh or rosh hashana until sometime during the second temple period.
Yet I am sure you were listening to yesterday's haftarah, the haftarah of machar chodesh, where we read how on the second day of rosh chodesh Shaul took note of David's second day of absence from the royal table and put Yehonasan on the spot and asked him to explain where David was.
2 days of rosh chodesh in the days of Shaul, long before R' Yochanan ben Zakai? How did that happen?
See the note of the Tziyun Yerushalayim on the bottom of Yerushalmi Ta'anis 22a in the Vilna edition.
II. While on the topic of that haftarah, at the end of the story we are told that Yehonasan and David wept "ad higdil David" and Yehonasan then departed. Most of the meforshim I saw understand this line to mean that David's crying became so great and loud that Yehonasan felt he had to leave lest David be discovered. My wife suggested that perhaps the opposite was true -- the sign of a gadol is self control, much like Aharon in our parsha, "vayidom Aharon," restrained his crying. Perhaps it is Yehonasan who continued to cry while David controlled his emotions, and therefore, it is Yehonasan who felt he had to depart.
The Mishna in R"H tells us that for hundreds of years witnesses always came early in the day on day 30 of Elul. One time during bayis sheni they showed up late in the day and it caused all kinds of confusion in the mikdash. The kohanim on that day operated under the assumption that since it was late in the day and no witnesses had come, it would be an ordinary weekday, i.e. no korban musaf, regular shirah during nisuch ha'yayin, etc. When the witnesses did eventually come, it meant the day was in fact rosh chodesh/rosh hashana and a korban musaf was required, the shirah was different, etc. (let's leave the technical details aside). In response to this turn of events R' Yochanan ben Zakai made a takanah: if witnesses show up late, they will automatically be held over until the next day. However, instead of declaring day 30 as not rosh chodesh/rosh hashana, both day 30 and the next day would be celebrated. In other words, day 30 would always be rosh chodesh -- witnesses coming late or coming the next day could only add an extra day, not subtract or change the status of day 30. That, in an oversimplified nutshell, is how we get 2 days.
Based on this account, historically there should never have been a 2 day rosh chodesh or rosh hashana until sometime during the second temple period.
Yet I am sure you were listening to yesterday's haftarah, the haftarah of machar chodesh, where we read how on the second day of rosh chodesh Shaul took note of David's second day of absence from the royal table and put Yehonasan on the spot and asked him to explain where David was.
2 days of rosh chodesh in the days of Shaul, long before R' Yochanan ben Zakai? How did that happen?
See the note of the Tziyun Yerushalayim on the bottom of Yerushalmi Ta'anis 22a in the Vilna edition.
II. While on the topic of that haftarah, at the end of the story we are told that Yehonasan and David wept "ad higdil David" and Yehonasan then departed. Most of the meforshim I saw understand this line to mean that David's crying became so great and loud that Yehonasan felt he had to leave lest David be discovered. My wife suggested that perhaps the opposite was true -- the sign of a gadol is self control, much like Aharon in our parsha, "vayidom Aharon," restrained his crying. Perhaps it is Yehonasan who continued to cry while David controlled his emotions, and therefore, it is Yehonasan who felt he had to depart.
Thursday, April 12, 2018
a sense of purpose
After the death of Nadav and Avihu, Hashem commands Aharon and his remaining sons not to show any signs of mourning. If they do, they will suffer the penalty of death and Hashem will be angry at Bnei Yisrael (10:6).
Why should Hashem be angry at Bnei Yisrael if Aharon or his sons disobey and mourn? Why is the community held liable for their wrongdoing?
Among the many answers to this question (see Ibn Ezra, Da'as Zekeinim, Ohr haChaim, HaKsav V'haKabbalah) I want to focus on that of the Alshich. Loss and tragedy often give rise to doubts and questions of faith. It takes a remarkable person like the Sanz Klausenberger Rebbe to not only rebuild, but inspire others to not lose faith and to rebuild after losing everything. It takes a remarkable person like Mrs Racheli Frankel to go around speaking about emunah when her son was murdered by terrorists.
At times of loss and tragedy, we need Rebbes like the Sanz Klausenberger; we need mothers like Racheli Frankel. We need people who can lead Klal Yisrael out of despair and teach them to mourn, to reflect, to grow, and not to lose faith. Hashem was telling Aharon to be careful lest he or his sons trip up and incur punishment because they are the ones who can do that. G-d would certainly not hold Klal Yisrael accountable for Aharon or his son's missteps. But if Aharon or his sons were to be punished for their missteps and lost, their absence would create an unfillable void that would inevitably lead to the nation sinking into doubt and despair and incurring Hashem's anger.
Perhaps the reason Hashem expressed concern for the effect the loss of Aharon or his remaining sons might have on Klal Yisrael was not just for the sake of the tzibur, but rather it was for Aharon's sake as well. Aharon was charged with doing avodah and bringing kaparah to the nation. Imagine his thoughts at that moment -- here his avodah could not serve to protect his own children; how could he serve as a meilitz for the nation as a whole?! The pasuk therefore comes and reminds Aharon that despite the death of Nadav and Avihu, his presence, his influence, his avodah, was both necessary and critical for the nation, even to the point that he was not excused for doing avodah even to mourn.
Viktor Frankl, himseld a Holocaust survivor, built his whole theory of psychology around the idea that a person who has a purpose to live for will lead a successful and happy life. Hashem here was giving Aharon a renewed sense of purpose by reminding him that his presence and influence was essential to Klal Yisrael.
Thursday, March 22, 2018
mah ha'avodah ha'zos lachem -- the concept of tzibur
We all know that "v'ahavta l'rei'acha kamocha" is a klal gadol baTorah. It's the key to all mitzvos beis adam l'chaveiro. But there is another view in Chazal that there is an even greater klal gadol, and that is "es ha'keves ha'echad ta'aseh ba'boker," the pasuk that tells us to bring a korban tamid every morning and evening. Why should that be so?
The gemara (Menachos 65) writes that there was a machlokes between the Baysusim and Chachaim on what seems to be a technical point of law with respect to the korban tamid. The Baysusim held that anyone who wanted to could donate the korban to the mikdash and it would be offered on behalf of the community. The Chachamim held that the korban must be bought only with public communal funds.
The fact that the day the Chachamim won the debate became a Yom Tov tells us that we are dealing with more than a technicality. Rav Kook, the Shem m'Shmuel, others explain that there was something fundamental at the heart of the dispute. The Baysusim saw Klal Yisrael as no more than a collection of individuals. The nation is like a big partnership between all its members (see Rashi/Ramban at the beginning of Vayikra). When you have a partnership and one partner wants to contribute more, kol hakavod -- why not let him/her? The Chachamim, however, held that Klal Yisrael is more than a partnership. The whole is far greater than the sum of its parts. The concept of tzibur is a new entity, distinct from its individual members. Therefore, the korban tamid can only come from communal funds. The funds of any individual member of the whole is not the same as funds of the entity called tzibur.
"V'ahavta l'rei'acha" means that there is a you and there is a me that are distinct entities, but we have to play nice together and work to get along. "Es ha'keves ha'echad...," the concept of korban tzibur, tells us that there is something greater than that -- there is a concept of tzibur. A tzibur means there is no longer a you and a me -- there is instead one united whole. We have to get along and because you and I are part of one and the same body, part of one and the same unit -- if I hurt you, are am hurting myself.
The rasha asks, "Mah ha'avodah ha'zos lachem?" He understands that if you do a mitzvah, G-d gives you points and all is good; if you do an aveira, the opposite happens. He understands "mah ha'avodah... lecha," what your benefit is from doing pesach. What he doesn't get is the "lachem" -- plural. How does your pesach, your seder, benefit everyone else? What's in it for them? What the rasha doesn't understand is the concept of tzibur.
Thursday, March 15, 2018
the relationship between korbanos and mishkan
There seems to be a basic disagreement between Ramban and Rambam regarding the relationship between korbanos and the mikdash. Rambam writes in hil beis ha'bechira (1:1) that there is a mitzvah "la'asos beis Hashem muchan l'heyos makrivin bo korbanos" -- korbanos are the goal, mikdash is the means or context. Ramban, on the other hand, in many places compares the mishkan to Har Sinai. Both are places where the Shechina rested and Torah was revealed -- this is the goal. Korbanos are just a means of attaining kapparah to prevent the Shechina from departing, the means to the end. (We've discussed this before here, here, here, here, here, here but you want new stuff, right?)
The truth is that how you view the role of korbanos and their relationship to the mikdash may depend on which korban you are talking about. Chatas, asham, and olah to some extent, all serve a kaparah function. On the other hand, what about the korban tamid? In parshas Titzaveh it's noteworthy that the tamid alone is mentioned -- absent is any reference to those other korbanos that bring kaparah. The placement of the tamid at the end of the Terumah-Titzavehm unit, after the instructions on how to build a mishkan and make bigdei kehunah, indicates that it is the end for which everything else is the means. The pesukim that speak of the tamid closeswith the words, "V'no'aditi shama... v'shachanti b'toch Bnei Yisrael... v'yad'u ki ani Hashem..." (29:43-46) -- the tamid itself brings about hashrah'as haShechina.
Abarbanel comments that the opening words of the parsha of tamid, "V'zeh ta'aseh al ha'mizbeiyach," are suggestive of a miyut: "zeh" -- this is the korban everything was meant for, to the exclusion of other offerings. The Torah is telling is not to think of the mishkan just as the place to go when you need forgiveness, to offer your chatas or asham. Ideally we should never need a chatas or asham! The mishkan ideally is meant to be the place you offer the tamid, a korban to praise G-d and come closer to him.
In contrast, Rashi (Yeshaya 1:1) comments on the words "tzedek yalim bah" that the righteousness of the city of Yerushalayim was preserved by the tamid. The morning offering served as a kaparah for any wrongdoing done at night and the evening korban served as a kaparah for any wrongdoing done during the day. Whether that was the primary goal of the korban or an ancillary benefit, the fact remains that according to Rashi even the tamid served a kaparah function.
It is possible to iron out the differences between these approaches. Parshas Titzaveh with its focus on the tamid may reflect the "ideal" role of the mishkan, pre-cheit ha'eigel, where Klal Yisrael at least potentially stood to achieve a lasting tikun where cheit/kaparah would be no more, or have a vastly diminished role. The reality post-cheit is that korbanos primarily serve our need for kaparah, to remove the burden of sin.
That sets the groundwork for us to appreciate a beautiful Shem m'Shmuel that I'm you will remember when you daven musaf on Rosh Chodesh in all the coming months. "Roshei chodashim l'amcha nasata... s'i'rei chatas l'chapeir b'adam..." Nebach, what can we do -- need korbanos, we need the korban of Rosh Chodesh, to bring us kaparah. However, "mizbeiyach chadash b'Tzion tachin..." we will one day have a complete geulah and we will return to the ideal state where we won't need constant kaparah. When that happens, "... u's'i'rei Rosh Chodesh na'aseh l'ratzon" -- we will offer the korban not to atone, but "l'ratzon," simply to come closer to Hashem, for the sake of ritzuy, to increase our favor in G-d's eyes.
The truth is that how you view the role of korbanos and their relationship to the mikdash may depend on which korban you are talking about. Chatas, asham, and olah to some extent, all serve a kaparah function. On the other hand, what about the korban tamid? In parshas Titzaveh it's noteworthy that the tamid alone is mentioned -- absent is any reference to those other korbanos that bring kaparah. The placement of the tamid at the end of the Terumah-Titzavehm unit, after the instructions on how to build a mishkan and make bigdei kehunah, indicates that it is the end for which everything else is the means. The pesukim that speak of the tamid closeswith the words, "V'no'aditi shama... v'shachanti b'toch Bnei Yisrael... v'yad'u ki ani Hashem..." (29:43-46) -- the tamid itself brings about hashrah'as haShechina.
Abarbanel comments that the opening words of the parsha of tamid, "V'zeh ta'aseh al ha'mizbeiyach," are suggestive of a miyut: "zeh" -- this is the korban everything was meant for, to the exclusion of other offerings. The Torah is telling is not to think of the mishkan just as the place to go when you need forgiveness, to offer your chatas or asham. Ideally we should never need a chatas or asham! The mishkan ideally is meant to be the place you offer the tamid, a korban to praise G-d and come closer to him.
In contrast, Rashi (Yeshaya 1:1) comments on the words "tzedek yalim bah" that the righteousness of the city of Yerushalayim was preserved by the tamid. The morning offering served as a kaparah for any wrongdoing done at night and the evening korban served as a kaparah for any wrongdoing done during the day. Whether that was the primary goal of the korban or an ancillary benefit, the fact remains that according to Rashi even the tamid served a kaparah function.
It is possible to iron out the differences between these approaches. Parshas Titzaveh with its focus on the tamid may reflect the "ideal" role of the mishkan, pre-cheit ha'eigel, where Klal Yisrael at least potentially stood to achieve a lasting tikun where cheit/kaparah would be no more, or have a vastly diminished role. The reality post-cheit is that korbanos primarily serve our need for kaparah, to remove the burden of sin.
That sets the groundwork for us to appreciate a beautiful Shem m'Shmuel that I'm you will remember when you daven musaf on Rosh Chodesh in all the coming months. "Roshei chodashim l'amcha nasata... s'i'rei chatas l'chapeir b'adam..." Nebach, what can we do -- need korbanos, we need the korban of Rosh Chodesh, to bring us kaparah. However, "mizbeiyach chadash b'Tzion tachin..." we will one day have a complete geulah and we will return to the ideal state where we won't need constant kaparah. When that happens, "... u's'i'rei Rosh Chodesh na'aseh l'ratzon" -- we will offer the korban not to atone, but "l'ratzon," simply to come closer to Hashem, for the sake of ritzuy, to increase our favor in G-d's eyes.
Thursday, March 08, 2018
parah and shabbos
Why read parshas parah davka on Shabbos? Why not during the week just before rosh chodesh Nisan? (The same question is asked with respect to all of the 4 parshiyos, as they could all just as well have been done during the week.)
Both in last week's parsha and in this week's parsha we learn the halacha that building the mishkan is not doche Shabbos. Rashi in last week's parsha explains that the word "ach" in "ach es shabsosai tishmoru" is a miyut that excludes work on the mishkan from being done on Shabbos. Chazal explain that the juxtaposition of Shabbos and mishkan in this week's parsha teaches the same idea. (Why you need two limudim is not my topic -- that's a question for homework : )
Sefas Emes on last week's parsha explains: cheit ha'eigel tainted all of creation. The world post-cheit ha'eigel was a different world; it was like the world of Adam after the cheit, after gan eden was no more. However, the cheit could not taint Shabbos -- Shabbos stands apart from the other six days of creation and is the nekudah pnimit that can never be sullied. Building the mishkan was a tikun for the cheit ha'eigel. On Shabbos, you don't need that tikun -- you don't need to do meleches hamishkan to effect your tikun because on Shabbos you are in a state that needs no tikun, that is unaffected by sin. Therefore, meleches hamisihkan is prohibited on Shabbos.
The Midrash tells us that the secret of parah adumah was understood only by Moshe. We can't relate to it. Sefas Emes explains that Moshe alone was absent from the camp during cheit ha'eigel and had nothing to do with it. Moshe was untainted by sin; therefore, only he stood on the level necessary to learn parshas parah.
On Shabbos we too return to that untainted level. The crowns we lost due to cheit ha'eigel are returned to us on Shabbos -- we are as if we are in the pre-cheit stage. Therefore, it is davka on Shabbos that we read parah, as davka on Shabbos we have the ability to understand a little more deeply, a little like Moshe, what the parsha is all about.
Both in last week's parsha and in this week's parsha we learn the halacha that building the mishkan is not doche Shabbos. Rashi in last week's parsha explains that the word "ach" in "ach es shabsosai tishmoru" is a miyut that excludes work on the mishkan from being done on Shabbos. Chazal explain that the juxtaposition of Shabbos and mishkan in this week's parsha teaches the same idea. (Why you need two limudim is not my topic -- that's a question for homework : )
Sefas Emes on last week's parsha explains: cheit ha'eigel tainted all of creation. The world post-cheit ha'eigel was a different world; it was like the world of Adam after the cheit, after gan eden was no more. However, the cheit could not taint Shabbos -- Shabbos stands apart from the other six days of creation and is the nekudah pnimit that can never be sullied. Building the mishkan was a tikun for the cheit ha'eigel. On Shabbos, you don't need that tikun -- you don't need to do meleches hamishkan to effect your tikun because on Shabbos you are in a state that needs no tikun, that is unaffected by sin. Therefore, meleches hamisihkan is prohibited on Shabbos.
The Midrash tells us that the secret of parah adumah was understood only by Moshe. We can't relate to it. Sefas Emes explains that Moshe alone was absent from the camp during cheit ha'eigel and had nothing to do with it. Moshe was untainted by sin; therefore, only he stood on the level necessary to learn parshas parah.
On Shabbos we too return to that untainted level. The crowns we lost due to cheit ha'eigel are returned to us on Shabbos -- we are as if we are in the pre-cheit stage. Therefore, it is davka on Shabbos that we read parah, as davka on Shabbos we have the ability to understand a little more deeply, a little like Moshe, what the parsha is all about.
when less is more than enough
The money collected for the building of the mishkan is described as "dayam," enough, just what was needed, and "hoseir," there was extra. Everyone asks: isn't that a contradiction in terms? If there was just enough, then how was there be extra?
The mishkan was a microcosm of the world, and the building of mishkan parallels the creation of the world, as Midrash Tanchuma explains at length.
Chazal tell us that Hashem created sheidim, mazikim, bad spirits, on bein ha'shemashos of erev Shabbos. Hashem created these spirits, and then, before he created bodies for them, it was Shabbos, and so these creatures were stuck half-completed.
Hashem is surely not like me, running into the house just before Shabbos, trying to get in one more thing, one more chore, and then your 18 minutes are up and you are stuck with that timer that wasn't set or a light not turned on. If I was running creation so the mazikim would be like that timer that didn't get set because there was just not enough time to make it. But Hashem can do anything, including making sure everything in creation is completed before even entering the 18 minute bonus time. So what do Chazal mean?
Maharal explains that the mazikim and sheidim mean the world is incomplete. Not because Hashem could not complete it, but because that is the nature of our world -- it is by definition something unfinished. (A mazik or sheid is "bad" because it is a shorthand way of saying the world is missing something and is incomplete.) Chazal are telling us that as great as our world is, as much ruchniyus and Torah you can find in it, as much as you can accomplish, there will always be something that is missing, some fraction that is left out no matter how hard you try. There is always more that is beyond your grasp, beyond the grasp of what you can ever hope to accomplish.
The Mishkan reflects this reality. There was more material brought than could be contained in the building. The mishkan, as great as it was, could not encompass everything. There was "hoseir," extra, but at the same time, it was "dayam," exactly enough and exactly the right amount because the extra that could not be contained, that could not be made into a finished product, a complete all-encompassing product, is a perfect reflection of our almost-but-not-quite finished world.
The mishkan was a microcosm of the world, and the building of mishkan parallels the creation of the world, as Midrash Tanchuma explains at length.
Chazal tell us that Hashem created sheidim, mazikim, bad spirits, on bein ha'shemashos of erev Shabbos. Hashem created these spirits, and then, before he created bodies for them, it was Shabbos, and so these creatures were stuck half-completed.
Hashem is surely not like me, running into the house just before Shabbos, trying to get in one more thing, one more chore, and then your 18 minutes are up and you are stuck with that timer that wasn't set or a light not turned on. If I was running creation so the mazikim would be like that timer that didn't get set because there was just not enough time to make it. But Hashem can do anything, including making sure everything in creation is completed before even entering the 18 minute bonus time. So what do Chazal mean?
Maharal explains that the mazikim and sheidim mean the world is incomplete. Not because Hashem could not complete it, but because that is the nature of our world -- it is by definition something unfinished. (A mazik or sheid is "bad" because it is a shorthand way of saying the world is missing something and is incomplete.) Chazal are telling us that as great as our world is, as much ruchniyus and Torah you can find in it, as much as you can accomplish, there will always be something that is missing, some fraction that is left out no matter how hard you try. There is always more that is beyond your grasp, beyond the grasp of what you can ever hope to accomplish.
The Mishkan reflects this reality. There was more material brought than could be contained in the building. The mishkan, as great as it was, could not encompass everything. There was "hoseir," extra, but at the same time, it was "dayam," exactly enough and exactly the right amount because the extra that could not be contained, that could not be made into a finished product, a complete all-encompassing product, is a perfect reflection of our almost-but-not-quite finished world.
Thursday, March 01, 2018
sh'eilasi u'bakashasi
We find the words sh'eila and bakasha used a few times in the megillah: Achashveirosh asks Esther, "Mah sh'eilaseich... u'mah bakashaseich," at the first party, and she responds,"She'eilasi u'bakashashi..." is for Achashveirosh and Haman to come to the next party. At the second party Achashveirosh repeats the question, and Esther responds, "Tinasein li nafshei b'sh'eilasi v'ami b'bakashasi..."
The GR"A (I thought I had posted this once but can't find it) writes that sh'eila is a personal request; bakasha is a request on behalf of another. The Tiferes Shlomo points out that a sho'el is defined as "kol hana'ah shelo" -- when you borrow there is no cost to you and you enjoy all the benefits. Esther's sh'eila is for her own life to be spared; her bakasha is for her people to be spared.
David haMelech asks of Hashem, "Achas sha'alti me'eis Hashem osa avakesh -- shivti b'veis Hashem..." When one has the zechus to sit in the beis Hashem learning and growing it is not just to one's personal benefit -- a sh'eila -- but it is to Klal Yisrael's benefit as well, and therefore it is a bakasha as well.
The Tiferes Shlomo interprets "meshorsav sho'alim zeh la'zeh" that we say in kedusha of musaf to mean that the malachim are not serving Hashem for personal benefit. The greatest benefit for them, what they are "sho'alim," is "zeh la'zeh," to do for each other, for the next guy. Maybe that's what makes a malach -- when the thing that gives you the most pleasure is seeing someone else get something.
The Alshich and M'lo ha'Omer suggest that sh'eila is something that costs nothing for the giver; a bakasha is a greater request that has a cost. When Esther responded to Achashveirosh that "sh'eilasi u'bakashasi" is for him to come to another party, what she meant is that what is for him just a sh'eila, something of no trouble, she considers a bakasha, as if she was asking him for something great and imposing upon him, and therefore it means so much more to her.
Retuning to David haMelech's words, the M'lo ha'Omer interprets as follows: "Achas sha'alti," for you Hashem, whatever I ask is a sh'eila because there is no cost, but for us, it's "osa avakesh," the equivalent request made to another person would be a bakasha.
I didn't check how they explain the pasuk, but it makes sense to say the idea of "Mah Hashem... sho'el ki im l'yirah," means you can't lose by having yiras Shamayim -- it's only something you can gain from, not an imposition.
On the other hand, "Bakeish shalom v'rodfeihu" -- true peace is something that entails bakasha. Shalom requires compromise, and compromise means you have to be willing to give something up. Even though it's a bakasha, shalom is worth it.
See Malbi"M for yet another approach to she'ila vs bakasha.
The GR"A (I thought I had posted this once but can't find it) writes that sh'eila is a personal request; bakasha is a request on behalf of another. The Tiferes Shlomo points out that a sho'el is defined as "kol hana'ah shelo" -- when you borrow there is no cost to you and you enjoy all the benefits. Esther's sh'eila is for her own life to be spared; her bakasha is for her people to be spared.
David haMelech asks of Hashem, "Achas sha'alti me'eis Hashem osa avakesh -- shivti b'veis Hashem..." When one has the zechus to sit in the beis Hashem learning and growing it is not just to one's personal benefit -- a sh'eila -- but it is to Klal Yisrael's benefit as well, and therefore it is a bakasha as well.
The Tiferes Shlomo interprets "meshorsav sho'alim zeh la'zeh" that we say in kedusha of musaf to mean that the malachim are not serving Hashem for personal benefit. The greatest benefit for them, what they are "sho'alim," is "zeh la'zeh," to do for each other, for the next guy. Maybe that's what makes a malach -- when the thing that gives you the most pleasure is seeing someone else get something.
The Alshich and M'lo ha'Omer suggest that sh'eila is something that costs nothing for the giver; a bakasha is a greater request that has a cost. When Esther responded to Achashveirosh that "sh'eilasi u'bakashasi" is for him to come to another party, what she meant is that what is for him just a sh'eila, something of no trouble, she considers a bakasha, as if she was asking him for something great and imposing upon him, and therefore it means so much more to her.
Retuning to David haMelech's words, the M'lo ha'Omer interprets as follows: "Achas sha'alti," for you Hashem, whatever I ask is a sh'eila because there is no cost, but for us, it's "osa avakesh," the equivalent request made to another person would be a bakasha.
I didn't check how they explain the pasuk, but it makes sense to say the idea of "Mah Hashem... sho'el ki im l'yirah," means you can't lose by having yiras Shamayim -- it's only something you can gain from, not an imposition.
On the other hand, "Bakeish shalom v'rodfeihu" -- true peace is something that entails bakasha. Shalom requires compromise, and compromise means you have to be willing to give something up. Even though it's a bakasha, shalom is worth it.
See Malbi"M for yet another approach to she'ila vs bakasha.
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
anochi haster astir...
1. Chazal tell us that one cannot make a seudas Purim at night, as the pasuk tells us, "La'asos osam y'mei mishteh..." The Sefas Emes (5649) explains that a person cannot celebrate in spiritual darkness. There are people who go through their whole lives in the spiritual equivalent of nightime -- there is no light of ruchniyus that shines in or that they let shine in. "La'asos..." -- you have to banish that darkness with the light of Torah, banish the night and turn Purim into a day of simcha.
2. The hint to Esther in the Torah is the pasuk of "Anochi haster astir..." Hester panim is not a chiddush of this pasuk alone and is sadly a feature of many eras of Jewish history, not just the story of the megillah. The chiddush of Esther, explains the Ba'al ha'Techeiles, R' Gershon Henoch Leiner, is that we see that there is an "Anochi" behind it all. In retrospect it was clear that from beginning to end, everything that happened the Purim story was yad Hashem. Our challenge is to believe that "Anochi haster astir," to trust that Hashem is controlling every detail of what happens even when we don't see him.
3. A nice Purim thought from my wife.
3. A nice Purim thought from my wife.
Monday, February 26, 2018
seeing the inside
Sometimes when you hear a shtickel torah you know right away who said it without being told. For example, when you hear 'tzvei dinim," you think R' Chaim, or at least someone following in the footsteps of Brisk. Even if I didn't tell you this pshat is from R' Tzvi Yehudah, I think you would immediately identify it as something only R' Kook (father or son) would say:
The gemara at the end of Megillah writes that R' Yehoshua ben Korcha was asked, "Ba'meh he'erachta yamim?" in what merit did he live such a long life. He responded that the great merit he had is that he never once looked at the face of a rasha.
R' Yehoshua ben Korcha was the son (according to some shitos) of R' Akiva, who was called "ka'reiach," the bald one (Bechorot 58). He grew up at a time of political ferment and rebellion -- remember that it was R' Akiva who championed Bar Kochba and encouraged the rebellion against Rome. Imagine R' Akiva, with his son Yehoshua, sitting in this armed camp, surrounded by tough soldiers who are preparing for war. Imagine the environment -- an army camp is not the beis medrash; these were not all lamed vuv tzadikim in the army of Bar Kochba.
Years later, his colleagues came to the now old R' Yehoshua and asked: we don't understand it. You grew up surrounded by the "nationalists," surrounded by people fighting for independence, people interested in taking back the country, rough men of physical strength and courage, men who were not among the yoshvei beis medrash. How then were you zocheh to such a long life? How do you emerge from such an environment spiritually rich and rewarded by Hashem?
R' Yehoshua ben Korcha answered: I never looked into the face of a rasha. You see rough men, fighting men, coarse men , resha'im-- but that's because you are only looking at the outside. When I looked, I only saw the inside -- the greatness of their holy neshomos.
Is this not what Rav Kook, both father and son (whose yahrzeit is coming up), were all about? They knew how to look at Jews and not see the face of a rasha -- they knew how to see the inside.
The gemara at the end of Megillah writes that R' Yehoshua ben Korcha was asked, "Ba'meh he'erachta yamim?" in what merit did he live such a long life. He responded that the great merit he had is that he never once looked at the face of a rasha.
R' Yehoshua ben Korcha was the son (according to some shitos) of R' Akiva, who was called "ka'reiach," the bald one (Bechorot 58). He grew up at a time of political ferment and rebellion -- remember that it was R' Akiva who championed Bar Kochba and encouraged the rebellion against Rome. Imagine R' Akiva, with his son Yehoshua, sitting in this armed camp, surrounded by tough soldiers who are preparing for war. Imagine the environment -- an army camp is not the beis medrash; these were not all lamed vuv tzadikim in the army of Bar Kochba.
Years later, his colleagues came to the now old R' Yehoshua and asked: we don't understand it. You grew up surrounded by the "nationalists," surrounded by people fighting for independence, people interested in taking back the country, rough men of physical strength and courage, men who were not among the yoshvei beis medrash. How then were you zocheh to such a long life? How do you emerge from such an environment spiritually rich and rewarded by Hashem?
R' Yehoshua ben Korcha answered: I never looked into the face of a rasha. You see rough men, fighting men, coarse men , resha'im-- but that's because you are only looking at the outside. When I looked, I only saw the inside -- the greatness of their holy neshomos.
Is this not what Rav Kook, both father and son (whose yahrzeit is coming up), were all about? They knew how to look at Jews and not see the face of a rasha -- they knew how to see the inside.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
l'ha'alos ner tamid
Even though the Torah says that oil should be taken "l'ha'alos ner tamid," the reality is that the menorah was not always burning. According to most Rishonim the mitzvah was to light the menorah at the end of the day with enough oil for it to burn just through the night. Rashi therefore interprets "tamid" to mean not constantly, but consistently -- it should be lit every single night. (The korban tamid, for example, was offered consistently every day, not constantly all day.) Ramban disagrees and writes that while the other candles of the menorah were not lit during the day, the ner ma'aravi was re-lit in the morning and always remained burning.
A few months ago by Chanukah we discussed the apparent stirah between the Rambam's view (as interpreted by the Rogatchover) that the Chashmonaim lit just the ner ma'aravi and the gemara's din that all the neiros are m'akev for the menorah to be complete. There are two dinim at work: 1) a chiyuv to light the menorah, which can be accomplished by lighting even one ner; 2) a chiyuv for the chetftza of the menorah to be lit, which is accomplished only if all the candles are kindled.
Perhaps this explanation sheds light (no pun intended) on Rashi/Ramban on our pasuk. According to Rashi, our parsha is talking about the chiyuv for the cheftza shel menorah to be lit. Therefore, "tamid" must mean consistently, not constantly, as one ner tamid does not a menorah make. Ramban, however, understood the parsha as speaking of the chovas ha'gavra of lighting, which can be fulfilled even by kindling one candle, and therefore he interprets "tamid" to mean constantly.
R' Shimon Sofer uses the symbolism of menorah as representing Torah to derech derush offer another explanation of "tamid." It's not just when learning or sitting in shul that one should feel inspired by Torah, but rather Torah's impact should be felt throughout the day. We need to behave and think at all times, "tamid," like people en-light-ened by the menorah, by Torah. How does that happen? Only if the Torah we study is "shemen zayis zach," pure and unadulterated -- 100% A+ quality of the real thing.
The Chasam Sofer quotes the Hafla'ah who is medayek is the words "shem zayis" - -singular -- "zach." How much oil could one olive produce?! Yet that little bit was enough to keep the menorah lit. We sometimes excuse ourselves from trying to sparking the interest of others in Torah by saying the effort required would be too great and too demanding. The Torah here is telling us that sometimes just a small drop of effort, of Torah, of love, is all it takes.
Thursday, February 15, 2018
zecher to the machtzis ha'shekel -- 3 coins or 1 -- Rama vs GR"A
The Rama (O.C. 694) writes that the minhag is to give three machtzis ha'shekels (bad dikduk, I know) on Ta'anis Esther because the word terumah appears 3x in parshas shekalim. However, GR"A in Ma'aseh Rav (282) writes that the minhag is to give only one machtzis ha'shekel.
Aside from trying to understand the nekudas ha'machlokes between them, it's very hard to understand the Rama. The reason we read parshas shekalim is to remember the annual donation of machtzis ha'shekel given to the mikdash to pay for korbanos tzibur expenses. We once a year do something to remember this once a year donation. The additional shelakim alluded to in parshas shekalim were one-in-history donations used in constructing the mishkan. Why do we need an annual remembrance for that?
My son pointed out that the GR"A in S"A on this Rama points you to Tos in Megillah (21) which says that on ta'aneisim we give tzedaka at mincha time. My son suggested that the GR"A is perhaps not just explaining to us when the machtzis ha'shekel is given, but is defining for us the geder ha'din, what machtzis ha'shekel is -- it's not a zecher, but a din in hilchos tzedaka, just like tzedaka given on any ta'anis. Therefore, the shiur is machtzis ha'shekel, not 3x a machtzis shekel. The Rama understood that it is a zecher.
I'm not yet convinced that the GR"A there is doing anything more than explaining why the machtzis ha'shekel is given on ta'anis esther afternoon -- why not give it sometime close to when we read the parsha? I would formulate the issue a little differently. The GR"A sees our machtzis ha'shekel as a zecher to the machtzis ha'shekel of the mikdash. The Rama perhaps sees giving machtzis ha'shekel as part and parcel of our kiyum of parshas shekalim. By way of analogy, RYBS and others understood that our eating matzah on pesach night is not just a kiyum in achilas matzah, but is a kiyum in sipur as well -- it's part of how we tell the story. So too here, perhaps Rama means that reading parshas shekalim also entails donating 3 machtzis shekalim --- davka 3, because 3 are alluded to in the parsha, and our giving is in some way an extension of the mitzvah of reading the parsha. (I don't know if my explanation is any less dachuk, but I have no other ideas yet.) I found that R' Yisachar Shlomo Teichtel hy"d, who these days is better known as the author of Eim haBanim Smeicha, discusses this topic in his shu"t, Mishne Sachir. (O.C. 34). He quotes what appears to be two contradictory gemaras: On the one hand, the gemara (Meg 13) quotes Reish Lakish as teaching that the shekalim that Klal Yisrael gave in the midbar served to nullify the money Haman paid to bribe Achashveirosh. We proved with our pocketbooks that we are dedicated to good before he even had the idea of showing his financial dedication to evil. On the other hand, Chazal tell us (Meg 16) that Haman chanced upon Mordechai teaching hilchos kemitza of the korban mincha and remarked that the small offering of kemitza outweighed all the thousands he had poured into doing evil (Meg 16). So which was it -- was it the shekalim donated to the Mishkan, or was it the actual offerings of the Mikdash, e.g. kemitza -- which foiled Haman's plans?
In a simplified nutshell, these two views represent the roots of the GR"A vs Rama. According to Reish Lakish's view, the "kesef ha'kipurim" donated to the mishkan served as a kaparah not just for that generation, but for future generations as well -- for Mordechai and Esther's time, for our time, for all time. Therefore, according to Rama we make a zecher even for the machtzis ha'shekel donated for the building of the mishkan. However, if Haman's downfall was brought about by hilchos kemitza, it is the korbanos themselves, purchased with the single machtzis ha'shekel given annually, which is what saved us, and therefore, as GR"A writes, it is this single machtzis ha'shekel that we make a remembrance for.
Aside from trying to understand the nekudas ha'machlokes between them, it's very hard to understand the Rama. The reason we read parshas shekalim is to remember the annual donation of machtzis ha'shekel given to the mikdash to pay for korbanos tzibur expenses. We once a year do something to remember this once a year donation. The additional shelakim alluded to in parshas shekalim were one-in-history donations used in constructing the mishkan. Why do we need an annual remembrance for that?
My son pointed out that the GR"A in S"A on this Rama points you to Tos in Megillah (21) which says that on ta'aneisim we give tzedaka at mincha time. My son suggested that the GR"A is perhaps not just explaining to us when the machtzis ha'shekel is given, but is defining for us the geder ha'din, what machtzis ha'shekel is -- it's not a zecher, but a din in hilchos tzedaka, just like tzedaka given on any ta'anis. Therefore, the shiur is machtzis ha'shekel, not 3x a machtzis shekel. The Rama understood that it is a zecher.
I'm not yet convinced that the GR"A there is doing anything more than explaining why the machtzis ha'shekel is given on ta'anis esther afternoon -- why not give it sometime close to when we read the parsha? I would formulate the issue a little differently. The GR"A sees our machtzis ha'shekel as a zecher to the machtzis ha'shekel of the mikdash. The Rama perhaps sees giving machtzis ha'shekel as part and parcel of our kiyum of parshas shekalim. By way of analogy, RYBS and others understood that our eating matzah on pesach night is not just a kiyum in achilas matzah, but is a kiyum in sipur as well -- it's part of how we tell the story. So too here, perhaps Rama means that reading parshas shekalim also entails donating 3 machtzis shekalim --- davka 3, because 3 are alluded to in the parsha, and our giving is in some way an extension of the mitzvah of reading the parsha. (I don't know if my explanation is any less dachuk, but I have no other ideas yet.) I found that R' Yisachar Shlomo Teichtel hy"d, who these days is better known as the author of Eim haBanim Smeicha, discusses this topic in his shu"t, Mishne Sachir. (O.C. 34). He quotes what appears to be two contradictory gemaras: On the one hand, the gemara (Meg 13) quotes Reish Lakish as teaching that the shekalim that Klal Yisrael gave in the midbar served to nullify the money Haman paid to bribe Achashveirosh. We proved with our pocketbooks that we are dedicated to good before he even had the idea of showing his financial dedication to evil. On the other hand, Chazal tell us (Meg 16) that Haman chanced upon Mordechai teaching hilchos kemitza of the korban mincha and remarked that the small offering of kemitza outweighed all the thousands he had poured into doing evil (Meg 16). So which was it -- was it the shekalim donated to the Mishkan, or was it the actual offerings of the Mikdash, e.g. kemitza -- which foiled Haman's plans?
In a simplified nutshell, these two views represent the roots of the GR"A vs Rama. According to Reish Lakish's view, the "kesef ha'kipurim" donated to the mishkan served as a kaparah not just for that generation, but for future generations as well -- for Mordechai and Esther's time, for our time, for all time. Therefore, according to Rama we make a zecher even for the machtzis ha'shekel donated for the building of the mishkan. However, if Haman's downfall was brought about by hilchos kemitza, it is the korbanos themselves, purchased with the single machtzis ha'shekel given annually, which is what saved us, and therefore, as GR"A writes, it is this single machtzis ha'shekel that we make a remembrance for.
Thursday, February 08, 2018
Rav Kook on "na'aseh v'nishma"
What's so special about "na'aseh v'nishma?" When Nancy Pelosi said, "You have to pass this bill to see what's in it," her mindless lemming followers did exactly that. "Na'aseh v'nishma!" -- we'll learn the details after we accept it as law. Is this really the secret about which Hashem said, "mi gilah raz zeh l'banay," who revealed this great secret to my children?! Is this the secret which Bnei Yisrael is praised for discovering?!
There is another gemara that uses almost identical language, but in this case the revelation/discovery of the secret led to condemnation instead of praise. The gemara (B"M 85) writes that Eliyahu haNavi revealed to Rebbi that R' Chiya and his children had a amazing koach ha'tefilah. Next fast day due to lack of rain Rebbi knew exactly to appoint as shat"z -- R' Chiya. Sure enough, when R' Chiya said "mashiv ha'ruach u'morid ha'geshem" it immediately started to rain. Upstairs in shamayim they realized something is up, and if R' Chiya continues and gets to "mechayei meisim" there are going to be big consequences. "Man gali razya b'alma?" says the gemara -- same expression that Hashem used with respect to "na'aseh v'nishma." Who let the cat out of the bag and revealed the secret? Yet here the gemara says Eliyahu was punished and was forced to interrupt R' Chiya's davening lest he finish and bring mashiach too early. Why is it that when Bnei Yisrael intuited the angelic secret of "na'aseh v'nishma" (whatever that means) and revealed it in the world, it's a great thing, but when Rebbi revealed the secret he had learned from Eliyahu, it's something that the world cannot tolerate?
Mindless obedience is demanded by dictators, cults, and Democrat congressmen (I repeat myself) like Nancy Pelosi. It's not a chiddush and is not what na'aseh v'nishma is all about. To understand what it is about, let's look at two different skills:
Daughter #3 plays guitar. Had you handed her a guitar when she was starting out and asked her to play a song, she would have been confounded. First came learning a few basic chords on a smaller size instrument that allowed for her to learn how to position her hands and fingers. Then came an upgrade to a better, full size guitar. Then came more chords and a few basic songs. Now she can play a small repertoire, but is still learning. That's how it works with all subjects, all fields of study.
Compare that with a spider web -- Charolette's web. A spider doesn't go to spider school and start with learning how to make a basic web and then progress to bigger, more complex webs, getting promoted from one spider web class to the next. A spider is born knowing how to spin webs, period -- it's part of what a spider is.
Rav Kook explains that "na'aseh v'nishma" means that Torah is to Klal Yisrael what spinning a web is to a spider. We can "do" Torah and do mitzvos without having any prerequisites -- it's built into who we are. It's not something we absorb from the outside through training, through learning, but rather is part of our essence, much as a malach fulfills Hashem's will because a malach's essence is serving as a shliach. This is the angelic "secret" which Klal Yisrael intuited.
My wife was recently reading Herman Wouk's (can you believe b'li ayin ha'ra that he is still alive?) The Language G-d Talks and she pointed out an interesting passage where he mentions his engaging Richard Feynman (to my 5T/Far Rockaway neighbors -- can you believe he grew up on Cornaga?) in a discussion of Talmud. Feynman was a great physicist, but had no use for religion. Nonetheless, he immediately took to the Talmudic analysis. How can someone with no background do that? Wouk writes (p. 157):
We can now understand why the case of R' Chiya's tefilah is different. Just as na'aseh v'nishma defines our essence as a people, each individual tzadik has something unique that defines their individual essence as well. That is their "raz," the secret of who they are -- it is their identity alone and does not belong to the world as a whole, which may not be ready for it or capable of accepting it.
There is another gemara that uses almost identical language, but in this case the revelation/discovery of the secret led to condemnation instead of praise. The gemara (B"M 85) writes that Eliyahu haNavi revealed to Rebbi that R' Chiya and his children had a amazing koach ha'tefilah. Next fast day due to lack of rain Rebbi knew exactly to appoint as shat"z -- R' Chiya. Sure enough, when R' Chiya said "mashiv ha'ruach u'morid ha'geshem" it immediately started to rain. Upstairs in shamayim they realized something is up, and if R' Chiya continues and gets to "mechayei meisim" there are going to be big consequences. "Man gali razya b'alma?" says the gemara -- same expression that Hashem used with respect to "na'aseh v'nishma." Who let the cat out of the bag and revealed the secret? Yet here the gemara says Eliyahu was punished and was forced to interrupt R' Chiya's davening lest he finish and bring mashiach too early. Why is it that when Bnei Yisrael intuited the angelic secret of "na'aseh v'nishma" (whatever that means) and revealed it in the world, it's a great thing, but when Rebbi revealed the secret he had learned from Eliyahu, it's something that the world cannot tolerate?
Mindless obedience is demanded by dictators, cults, and Democrat congressmen (I repeat myself) like Nancy Pelosi. It's not a chiddush and is not what na'aseh v'nishma is all about. To understand what it is about, let's look at two different skills:
Daughter #3 plays guitar. Had you handed her a guitar when she was starting out and asked her to play a song, she would have been confounded. First came learning a few basic chords on a smaller size instrument that allowed for her to learn how to position her hands and fingers. Then came an upgrade to a better, full size guitar. Then came more chords and a few basic songs. Now she can play a small repertoire, but is still learning. That's how it works with all subjects, all fields of study.
Compare that with a spider web -- Charolette's web. A spider doesn't go to spider school and start with learning how to make a basic web and then progress to bigger, more complex webs, getting promoted from one spider web class to the next. A spider is born knowing how to spin webs, period -- it's part of what a spider is.
Rav Kook explains that "na'aseh v'nishma" means that Torah is to Klal Yisrael what spinning a web is to a spider. We can "do" Torah and do mitzvos without having any prerequisites -- it's built into who we are. It's not something we absorb from the outside through training, through learning, but rather is part of our essence, much as a malach fulfills Hashem's will because a malach's essence is serving as a shliach. This is the angelic "secret" which Klal Yisrael intuited.
My wife was recently reading Herman Wouk's (can you believe b'li ayin ha'ra that he is still alive?) The Language G-d Talks and she pointed out an interesting passage where he mentions his engaging Richard Feynman (to my 5T/Far Rockaway neighbors -- can you believe he grew up on Cornaga?) in a discussion of Talmud. Feynman was a great physicist, but had no use for religion. Nonetheless, he immediately took to the Talmudic analysis. How can someone with no background do that? Wouk writes (p. 157):
Because we are alike. Alike in the joy of following and grasping ling strings of tight logic -- alike in the zest for the toughest mental challenges, in the rejection of flawed answers, in the glory when the elusive true answer dawns -- do you have a Talmudic mind? Sure call it that, because if you say 'Yiddishe kop,' Jewish head, you'll enrage the geneticists and get called racist by fools. Of course it's cultural, it's an inheritance from grandfathers, great-grandfathers, forefathers, all the way back to Babylon, and they all studied the Talmud, and that's why you're Feynman, I assure you.In other words, na'aseh v'nishma -- it's built into who we are.
We can now understand why the case of R' Chiya's tefilah is different. Just as na'aseh v'nishma defines our essence as a people, each individual tzadik has something unique that defines their individual essence as well. That is their "raz," the secret of who they are -- it is their identity alone and does not belong to the world as a whole, which may not be ready for it or capable of accepting it.
Tuesday, February 06, 2018
eagle's wings, football, etc.
Everyone is interested in eagles this week. "Va'esa eschem al kanfei nesahrim..." Why eagles wings? Tehilim 103:5 tells us that Hashem is "tischadesh ka'nesher n'u'raychi," He renews our youth like an eagle. Rashi explains that an eagle's feathers molt every year and are replaced by new feathers. Our parsha is telling us that Hashem gave us the power to constantly renew ourselves. Even when we fall, we can start over again and come back. A nice idea from the Koznitzer Magid.
About those other Eagles... I want to thank Colin Kaepernick, and really the whole NFL. I used to often listen to sports radio in my car and haphazardly follow what was going on in that world. Thanks to the SJW of the NFL and their protests against America, the country that gives them the chance to make millions playing a game, thanks to the antics of Colin, e.g. raising money for a foundation celebrating a cop killer, I went cold turkey and from preseason to superbowl, I gave up not only the NFL, but all sports. I don't know if I could have done it without you Colin, so I want to express my hakaras ha'tov to you for making me see what a disgrace you and some (not all) of your fellow players are.
Someone emailed me last week that it was almost time for me to write my yearly protest against the opulence of the Pesach hotels. It's not just Pesach. Who orders a "Hail Miriam" (I am not making up the name) package for a few hundred bucks for their superbowl half time party? How is this kosher? OK, so you want to watch the game, neicha, I understand. But do you have to make it into an event, a celebration, mishteh v'simcha v'Yom Tov? But that's what Judaism in America has turned into. Super glatt, chalav yisrael, all the chumros, but missing the essential underlying values. (And if anyone reading this ordered that package, you know I'm just complaining because you didn't invite me : )
Something positive to end on:
About those other Eagles... I want to thank Colin Kaepernick, and really the whole NFL. I used to often listen to sports radio in my car and haphazardly follow what was going on in that world. Thanks to the SJW of the NFL and their protests against America, the country that gives them the chance to make millions playing a game, thanks to the antics of Colin, e.g. raising money for a foundation celebrating a cop killer, I went cold turkey and from preseason to superbowl, I gave up not only the NFL, but all sports. I don't know if I could have done it without you Colin, so I want to express my hakaras ha'tov to you for making me see what a disgrace you and some (not all) of your fellow players are.
Someone emailed me last week that it was almost time for me to write my yearly protest against the opulence of the Pesach hotels. It's not just Pesach. Who orders a "Hail Miriam" (I am not making up the name) package for a few hundred bucks for their superbowl half time party? How is this kosher? OK, so you want to watch the game, neicha, I understand. But do you have to make it into an event, a celebration, mishteh v'simcha v'Yom Tov? But that's what Judaism in America has turned into. Super glatt, chalav yisrael, all the chumros, but missing the essential underlying values. (And if anyone reading this ordered that package, you know I'm just complaining because you didn't invite me : )
Something positive to end on:
Monday, February 05, 2018
a spiritual revolution
1. There is a glaring redundancy in the first pasuk of Yisro. "VaYishma Yisro... es kol asher asah Elokim l'Moshe u'l'Yisrael amo," Yisro heard whatever G-d had done for the Jewish people. The pasuk continues and ends, "Ki hotzi Hashem es Yisrael m'Mitzrayim." Isn't it clear from the beginning of the pasuk that Yisro had heard about this? Isn't yetzi'as Mitzratim obviously part of "kol asher asah Elokim l'Moshe u'l'Yisrael?"
It could be that this is the question that was bothering Rashi and caused Rashi to say that Yisro heard about the splitting of Yam Suf and/or the war with Amalek. It had to be something other than yetzi'as Mitzrayim that Yisro heard about otherwise the whole phrase is redundant.
The Sefas Emes offers an explanation that caught my attention because of something I heard on a tour of the old city given by R' Simcha Hochbaum that we took 2 weeks ago when we were in Yerushalayim. R' Hochbaum made the point (and I hope I am paraphrasing him correctly) that so many of the yeshivos and seminaries we and/or our children (depends on your age : ) go to learn in only came into existence post-1967. That's not just because now there is more geographical space, a bigger city of Yerushalayim, a more developed area, for these yeshivos and seminaries to take root it in. It's because the unification of Yerushalayim released this pent up spiritual energy that had been held in check so long as the city was divided and in foreign hands. Having Yerushalayim in our hands, whole again, did not just change the physical map of Eretz Yisrael -- it changed the spiritual map as well.
Says the Sefas Emes, so long as the Jewish people were enslaved in Egypt, spirituality was locked up and held in check. Chazal tell us that no one -- not a single slave, no matter what nation they were from -- escaped Egypt. It was like a black hole that sucked everything in. "VaYishma Yisro," suddenly a person like Yisro, after years of worshipping every avodah zarah under the sun, wakes up and is able to hear that there is a true G-d. How did that happen? The pasuk answers, "Ki hotzi Hashem es Yisrael m'Mitzrayim." Because the Jewish people were taken out, the black hole's pull was broken. Because the Jewish people were taken out, all that ruchniyus that was pent up was suddenly free, and it had an effect not only on us, but on the whole world as well.
Same idea, different context.
2. In the haftarah we read that Yishayahu heard the malachim saying "kadosh kadosh..." and he responds, "oy li ki nidmeisi ki ish tmei sefasayim anochi u'b'toch am tmei sefasayim anochi yosheiv." What does that first phrase, "oy li ki nidmeisi," mean? I congratulate you if you knew without looking at Rashi that the word "nidmeisi" here can mean death. I don't have Artscroll at home, but I checked on Shabbos in shul and they translate something like "Woe is me for I might die." Yishayahu heard the angels and he thinks that's the end for him. How can a person who is "tamei sefasayim" live through that?
If I were doing the translating I would go with the second interpretation of Radak. "Nidmeisi" here is like "va'yidom Aharon" -- to be silent. Yishayahu heard the angels and did nothing -- he didn't say anything. When he came out of his shock, he bemoaned the fact that he had not responded in kind, he bemoaned the fact that his tamei lips (according to Rashi, why the stress on the lips)? were unworthy of uttering such holy praise.
(I am not suggesting that Rashi is wrong or a mistranslation. I am just saying that given the choice of one or the other, from a literary perspective I would go with Radak.)
It could be that this is the question that was bothering Rashi and caused Rashi to say that Yisro heard about the splitting of Yam Suf and/or the war with Amalek. It had to be something other than yetzi'as Mitzrayim that Yisro heard about otherwise the whole phrase is redundant.
The Sefas Emes offers an explanation that caught my attention because of something I heard on a tour of the old city given by R' Simcha Hochbaum that we took 2 weeks ago when we were in Yerushalayim. R' Hochbaum made the point (and I hope I am paraphrasing him correctly) that so many of the yeshivos and seminaries we and/or our children (depends on your age : ) go to learn in only came into existence post-1967. That's not just because now there is more geographical space, a bigger city of Yerushalayim, a more developed area, for these yeshivos and seminaries to take root it in. It's because the unification of Yerushalayim released this pent up spiritual energy that had been held in check so long as the city was divided and in foreign hands. Having Yerushalayim in our hands, whole again, did not just change the physical map of Eretz Yisrael -- it changed the spiritual map as well.
Says the Sefas Emes, so long as the Jewish people were enslaved in Egypt, spirituality was locked up and held in check. Chazal tell us that no one -- not a single slave, no matter what nation they were from -- escaped Egypt. It was like a black hole that sucked everything in. "VaYishma Yisro," suddenly a person like Yisro, after years of worshipping every avodah zarah under the sun, wakes up and is able to hear that there is a true G-d. How did that happen? The pasuk answers, "Ki hotzi Hashem es Yisrael m'Mitzrayim." Because the Jewish people were taken out, the black hole's pull was broken. Because the Jewish people were taken out, all that ruchniyus that was pent up was suddenly free, and it had an effect not only on us, but on the whole world as well.
Same idea, different context.
2. In the haftarah we read that Yishayahu heard the malachim saying "kadosh kadosh..." and he responds, "oy li ki nidmeisi ki ish tmei sefasayim anochi u'b'toch am tmei sefasayim anochi yosheiv." What does that first phrase, "oy li ki nidmeisi," mean? I congratulate you if you knew without looking at Rashi that the word "nidmeisi" here can mean death. I don't have Artscroll at home, but I checked on Shabbos in shul and they translate something like "Woe is me for I might die." Yishayahu heard the angels and he thinks that's the end for him. How can a person who is "tamei sefasayim" live through that?
If I were doing the translating I would go with the second interpretation of Radak. "Nidmeisi" here is like "va'yidom Aharon" -- to be silent. Yishayahu heard the angels and did nothing -- he didn't say anything. When he came out of his shock, he bemoaned the fact that he had not responded in kind, he bemoaned the fact that his tamei lips (according to Rashi, why the stress on the lips)? were unworthy of uttering such holy praise.
(I am not suggesting that Rashi is wrong or a mistranslation. I am just saying that given the choice of one or the other, from a literary perspective I would go with Radak.)
Thursday, February 01, 2018
dissatisfaction is sometimes a good thing
We've passed through the parsha of "v'lo sham'u el Moshe," the parsha of "mi Hashem asher eshma b'kolo," and we've reached "va'yishma Yiso" -- finally someone willing to listen. On deck of course is "na'aseh v'nishma," telling us that listening isn't everything after all; doing is far more important.
Chazal tell us that Yisro worshipped every avodah zarah in the world. At first blush this sounds terrible. It's one thing to be deluded and led astray once, but to repeat the same mistake again, and again, and again... The Maharal looks at it differently. Chazal are speaking to the gadlus of Yisro. Here is a man who never rested in his search for truth -- a man who was never satisfied. Yisro went from avodah zarah to avodah zarah not because he didn't like the people in that "shul" or he thought there was a better kiddush at the place down the block. He did it because each avodah zarah he tried left him feeling lacking, feeling that the truth was elsewhere. Eventually, he found the truth of yahadus, but until then he spent his life running away from one falsehood after another.
Achieving kedusha and dveikus is very hard. The loftier the goal, the more elusive it is. The Sochotchover helps us out with a yesod: be like Yisro and start by running away from the things that you know are wrong and false. If you do that, Hashem will take care of getting you to where you want to go.
To me this is reminiscent of the Rambam's negative theology. The Rambam writes that you can never really describe G-d; he transcends anything one might say about Him. The best one can do is to describe what G-d is not, e.g. He is not unkind, He is not unjust, etc. and in that way, come to some understanding, some connection to Him.
Michelangelo was asked (not really - the story is a myth) how he was able to sculpt the famous statue of David. He replied that he just chopped away all the marble that was not-David and m'meila he was left with a work of art. (BTW, you have less than 2 weeks to see the Michelangelo exhibit at the Met that everyone is raving about. Not only do you get Torah on this blog, but you get weekend museum tips as well : )
Yisro spent a lifetime chopping away -- he chopped away this avodah zarah and that avodah zarah, he ran away from one false belief after another, until he was left with a connection to Hashem.
"What did Yisro see that caused him to come to Klal Yisrael?" asks Rashi. According to one view it was the splitting of Yam Suf that was Yisro's motivation. What's so special about the splitting of Yam Suf more than the makos in Egypt or any other miracles? The Shem m'Shmuel (5674) quotes the Midrash that the Yam split in the merit of Yosef running away from Eishes Potifar. "Ha'Yam ra'ah va'yanos" -- the Yam ran to its banks as well, midah k'neged midah. Chazal tell us that even maidservants experience nevuah at Yam Suf. Yisro saw that to connect to the infinite, you don't need to be a guru or meditate for decades on a mountain. You can attain great heights even if all you know how to do is run away from what you know is wrong, something he had a lifetime of experience doing. (See the Shem m'Shmuel's hesber of the other shitos of what Yisro heard along similar lines.)
Another gemara (Sanhedrin 106): Pharoah had three advisors: Yisro, Iyov, Bilam. Bilam advised Pharoah to kill Jewish children. Iyov was silent. Yisro ran away. The gemara continues that his descendants sat in the lishkas ha'gazis teaching Torah with the Sanhedrin. Hashem takes the energy used running from... and converts it into energy that brings a person to...
What drew Moshe to Yisro's house? "...Va'yivrach Moshe mipnei Pharoah va'yeishev b'Eretz Midyan." (2:16) Did Moshe recognize in Yisro someone like himself, someone who had run away from the evil of Egypt? Or did Yisro recognize in Moshe's flight a journey similar to his own? Either way, the stories of running are strikingly parallel.
In last week's parsha we read how Pharoah discovered the people had fled, "Va'yugad l'melech Mitzrayim ki barach ha'am..." (14:5) and he decided to give chase. Strange -- the people had run away?? Pharaoh himself had gone in the middle of the night to find Moshe and Aharon to throw Klal Yisrael out as fast as possible!
L'havdil, no parent is like Pharoah, but sometimes a kid comes back from yeshiva or seminary, and the parent has been waiting with the acceptance letter from Columbia or Penn u'k'domeh tacked to the refrigerator, and lo and behold their kid has flipped out and frummed out. What does the parent think? OK, so I'll give him/her some time -- it's a passing fad. Over the summer they will adjust to America, they will meet up again with friends, they will daven again in our shul instead of yeshiva, and by fall, poof, back to normal. What the parent doesn't realize is "ki borei'ach hu!" Their son, even he stayed for shanah bet, has just really just gotten a taste of R' Chaim, of Ketzos, or R' Akiva Eiger; their daughter has not even made it through all of volume 1 of Michtav. They have by no idea what a Torah life is realty about, but what they have learned is that there are a lot of things in our society that a person should run away from. As the Sochotchover tells us, once you start running and know what you should be running from, Hashem will take care of the rest.
R Yisachar Dov Englander, a Rosh Kollel of Belz in London, suggests that that's what Pharoah discovered. Sometimes you are in a bad situation, but change is hard, and even if you decide to move on, you sometimes have one eye looking back over your shoulder. That's how Pharoah though Klal Yisrael would leave Egypt. OK, so they would go for three days, but after that, they would come back. How could they not? That's the parent thinking that the black hat is nice, but let's be real -- the kid has to miss watching the game on Sunday, right? He'll snap out of it eventually. When Pharoah saw "ki borei'ach hu" -- they were running, they couldn't wait to leave, had no regrets, missed none of it -- then he knew they were gone for good unless he would act. Even if you don't know where you are going -- "nevuchim heim ba'midbar" -- running away from wrong, like the Shem m'Shmuel tells us, chopping away the not-David parts of who you are, will get you to the right destination.
Chazal tell us that Yisro worshipped every avodah zarah in the world. At first blush this sounds terrible. It's one thing to be deluded and led astray once, but to repeat the same mistake again, and again, and again... The Maharal looks at it differently. Chazal are speaking to the gadlus of Yisro. Here is a man who never rested in his search for truth -- a man who was never satisfied. Yisro went from avodah zarah to avodah zarah not because he didn't like the people in that "shul" or he thought there was a better kiddush at the place down the block. He did it because each avodah zarah he tried left him feeling lacking, feeling that the truth was elsewhere. Eventually, he found the truth of yahadus, but until then he spent his life running away from one falsehood after another.
Achieving kedusha and dveikus is very hard. The loftier the goal, the more elusive it is. The Sochotchover helps us out with a yesod: be like Yisro and start by running away from the things that you know are wrong and false. If you do that, Hashem will take care of getting you to where you want to go.
To me this is reminiscent of the Rambam's negative theology. The Rambam writes that you can never really describe G-d; he transcends anything one might say about Him. The best one can do is to describe what G-d is not, e.g. He is not unkind, He is not unjust, etc. and in that way, come to some understanding, some connection to Him.
Michelangelo was asked (not really - the story is a myth) how he was able to sculpt the famous statue of David. He replied that he just chopped away all the marble that was not-David and m'meila he was left with a work of art. (BTW, you have less than 2 weeks to see the Michelangelo exhibit at the Met that everyone is raving about. Not only do you get Torah on this blog, but you get weekend museum tips as well : )
Yisro spent a lifetime chopping away -- he chopped away this avodah zarah and that avodah zarah, he ran away from one false belief after another, until he was left with a connection to Hashem.
"What did Yisro see that caused him to come to Klal Yisrael?" asks Rashi. According to one view it was the splitting of Yam Suf that was Yisro's motivation. What's so special about the splitting of Yam Suf more than the makos in Egypt or any other miracles? The Shem m'Shmuel (5674) quotes the Midrash that the Yam split in the merit of Yosef running away from Eishes Potifar. "Ha'Yam ra'ah va'yanos" -- the Yam ran to its banks as well, midah k'neged midah. Chazal tell us that even maidservants experience nevuah at Yam Suf. Yisro saw that to connect to the infinite, you don't need to be a guru or meditate for decades on a mountain. You can attain great heights even if all you know how to do is run away from what you know is wrong, something he had a lifetime of experience doing. (See the Shem m'Shmuel's hesber of the other shitos of what Yisro heard along similar lines.)
Another gemara (Sanhedrin 106): Pharoah had three advisors: Yisro, Iyov, Bilam. Bilam advised Pharoah to kill Jewish children. Iyov was silent. Yisro ran away. The gemara continues that his descendants sat in the lishkas ha'gazis teaching Torah with the Sanhedrin. Hashem takes the energy used running from... and converts it into energy that brings a person to...
What drew Moshe to Yisro's house? "...Va'yivrach Moshe mipnei Pharoah va'yeishev b'Eretz Midyan." (2:16) Did Moshe recognize in Yisro someone like himself, someone who had run away from the evil of Egypt? Or did Yisro recognize in Moshe's flight a journey similar to his own? Either way, the stories of running are strikingly parallel.
In last week's parsha we read how Pharoah discovered the people had fled, "Va'yugad l'melech Mitzrayim ki barach ha'am..." (14:5) and he decided to give chase. Strange -- the people had run away?? Pharaoh himself had gone in the middle of the night to find Moshe and Aharon to throw Klal Yisrael out as fast as possible!
L'havdil, no parent is like Pharoah, but sometimes a kid comes back from yeshiva or seminary, and the parent has been waiting with the acceptance letter from Columbia or Penn u'k'domeh tacked to the refrigerator, and lo and behold their kid has flipped out and frummed out. What does the parent think? OK, so I'll give him/her some time -- it's a passing fad. Over the summer they will adjust to America, they will meet up again with friends, they will daven again in our shul instead of yeshiva, and by fall, poof, back to normal. What the parent doesn't realize is "ki borei'ach hu!" Their son, even he stayed for shanah bet, has just really just gotten a taste of R' Chaim, of Ketzos, or R' Akiva Eiger; their daughter has not even made it through all of volume 1 of Michtav. They have by no idea what a Torah life is realty about, but what they have learned is that there are a lot of things in our society that a person should run away from. As the Sochotchover tells us, once you start running and know what you should be running from, Hashem will take care of the rest.
R Yisachar Dov Englander, a Rosh Kollel of Belz in London, suggests that that's what Pharoah discovered. Sometimes you are in a bad situation, but change is hard, and even if you decide to move on, you sometimes have one eye looking back over your shoulder. That's how Pharoah though Klal Yisrael would leave Egypt. OK, so they would go for three days, but after that, they would come back. How could they not? That's the parent thinking that the black hat is nice, but let's be real -- the kid has to miss watching the game on Sunday, right? He'll snap out of it eventually. When Pharoah saw "ki borei'ach hu" -- they were running, they couldn't wait to leave, had no regrets, missed none of it -- then he knew they were gone for good unless he would act. Even if you don't know where you are going -- "nevuchim heim ba'midbar" -- running away from wrong, like the Shem m'Shmuel tells us, chopping away the not-David parts of who you are, will get you to the right destination.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
