The gemara (Kid 31) illustrates the extent to which one must go to fulfill kibud av with a story. There was a non-Jew named Dama ben Nesina whose father owned a precious gem. The Chachamim wanted to buy the stone for the ephod, but when they came to make the deal Dama turned them away. The keys to the safe were under his sleeping father's pillow and he would not wake his father. Hashem rewarded Dama for this act of kibud and the next year a parah adumah was born in his herd. When the Chachamim came to buy the parah, Dama told them that he knows they would pay whatever price he would demand, but he would ask them only for what he lost in profit from not being able to sell them his precious gem.
Two questions:
1) Of all the rewards Hashem could have given Dama, why was it specifically a parah adumah which he was given?
2) Why does the gemara go into such detail extoling Dama's virtues, telling us that he knows the Chachamim would pay any price but he wouldn't demand it. Do Chazal need to lay it on so thick?
The Kotzker (the same vort is quoted from others as well) explained that when Dama ben Nesina did this act of kibud av there was a tremendous kitrug in shamayin against Klal Yisrael. Here this non-Jew was willing to sacrifice a fortune for the sake of not disturbing his father -- where is our sacrifice for mitzvos?!
Hashem therefore caused a parah adumah to be born into Dama's herd. Kibud av is the ultimate mitzvah sichlis -- it makes sense even to a non-Jew. Even Eisav understood and fulfilled kibud av! (See Maharal in Ch Aggados). Parah adumah is at the opposite end of the spectrum -- it is the quintessential chok, a mitzvah that is incomprehensible. Dama was willing to give up a fortune to fulfill a mitzvah that made sense to him. A tremendous zechus, but Hashem set the stage for the Chachamim to top it. As Dama himself admitted, they were prepared to pay any price for a mitzvah that made no sense to anyone.
(Parenthetically, we pasken that it is the parent who must bear the cost of kibud av, not the child. In other words if your father needs a new shirt, it's kibud av to get him the clothes he needs, but you can put it on his credit card. Whey then is the Dama story a good example of the mitzvah? He was under no obligation to suffer a loss of his money for the sake of kibud?
Ran gives two answers: 1) there is a difference between kavod, which you don't have to suffer a loss for [assuming the parent can pay], and causing pain to a parent, like waking them from sleep; 2) Dama was only giving up potential profit, not suffering a loss of capital.)
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Thursday, June 14, 2018
a one eyed monster
The sefer She'eiris Menachem quotes from the Shem m'Shmuel (the same idea is quoted in other seforim as well) that a person who is blind in one eye is patur from the mitzvah of re'iya on the shalosh regalim because a person who comes to the beis hamikdash needs to see the world with two eyes: one eye focused on the gadlus of Hashem, and one eye focused on his own person shortcomings. A person who sees with only one eye, i.e. someone who sees and appreciates the gadlus of Hashem but is blind to their own faults, will not benefit from coming.
Rashi writes about Korach that "eino hit'aso," his eye deceived him. Korach saw the world with only one eye -- he saw the gadlus in ruchniyus that Aharon achieved, and maybe even was sincere in his desire for that same level of closeness with Hashem. "Boker v'yoda Hashem es asher lo" -- Rashi explains that Moshe told Korach that just like Hashem created boundaries in nature between morning and night, so too, Hashem created boundaries in ruchniyus and not everyone could be kohen gadol. The Emunas Moshe (Rebbe of Aleksander) explains that Korach was a big ma'amin. Who cares if there are rules in teva that way? A tzadik can rise l'ma'alah min ha'teva! Korach saw with his one eye that in ruchniyus everything is possible; Hashem has no boundaries. Korach had 20/20 vision in that eye and got it right. But when it came to seeing with his other eye, the eye that should have seen his own faults, he was completely blind. He failed to see that he was not Aharon; he lacked the lofty traits necessary to rise to the madreiga to which he aspired.
Rashi writes about Korach that "eino hit'aso," his eye deceived him. Korach saw the world with only one eye -- he saw the gadlus in ruchniyus that Aharon achieved, and maybe even was sincere in his desire for that same level of closeness with Hashem. "Boker v'yoda Hashem es asher lo" -- Rashi explains that Moshe told Korach that just like Hashem created boundaries in nature between morning and night, so too, Hashem created boundaries in ruchniyus and not everyone could be kohen gadol. The Emunas Moshe (Rebbe of Aleksander) explains that Korach was a big ma'amin. Who cares if there are rules in teva that way? A tzadik can rise l'ma'alah min ha'teva! Korach saw with his one eye that in ruchniyus everything is possible; Hashem has no boundaries. Korach had 20/20 vision in that eye and got it right. But when it came to seeing with his other eye, the eye that should have seen his own faults, he was completely blind. He failed to see that he was not Aharon; he lacked the lofty traits necessary to rise to the madreiga to which he aspired.
Wednesday, June 13, 2018
bracha on pidyon ha'ben
At the recent pidyon ha'ben made by my nephew for his bechor, my BIL RYGB started discussing with me why you have to make a bracha on the mitzvah of pidyon ha'ben. Rashba writes in a teshuva that we don't say a bracha on mitzvos like tzedakah where the fulfillment depends on other people -- since the poor person can turn down your gift, you risk it being a bracha l'vatala. Since pidyon ha'ben depends on the kohen taking the money (you are not yotzei just by doing a hafrasha -- you have to actually give the kohen the money), it too should be classified as a mitzvah that is taluy b'yad acheirim and not require a bracha.
I asked my son what he thought, and he immediately remembered the Ketzos (243:4) has a chidush that nesina ba'al korcho works when it comes to paying off a debt and matnos kehunah. You don't need the kohen to cooperate -- you can force him to take the money.
I thought you could distinguish between tzedakah and pidyon ha'ben. When it comes to tzedakah, if the poor person does not want/need the money, there is no chiyuv. With respect to pidyon ha'ben, the chiyuv exists whether the kohen cooperates or not. His refusal to accept payment deflects the kiyum mitzvah, not the chiyuv.
RYGB wanted to say a bigger chidush and suggest that the kohen has a mitzvah to accept the payment. I did not believe this (see Pesachim 121 where the gemara says with respect to pidyon that the father has the mitzvah; the kohen gets hana'ah) but I found that R' Noson Gestetner in his sefer on chumash on last week's parsha compares the role of the kohen to that of a woman in the process of kidushin -- there is a hechsher mitzvah or a kiyum of some sort, even if there is not a full chiyuv. He writes that m'sevara this has to be the case. How could a yisrael be commanded to do pidyon if every kohen in the world could theoretically turn down his money? How would he do the mitzvah? It must be that the kohen has an obligation of some sort to participate.
Let's test the theories by applying them to another mitzvah: mishloach manos.
You can't force someone to accept mishloach manos, so it makes sense according to the sevara of the Ketzos that there is no bracha.
According to my approach, it's a little trickier. I have a chiyuv of mishloach manos irrespective of someone else's need for my gift, so isn't it like pidyon ha'ben?
The Manos haLevi writes that the purpose of mishloach manos is to engender friendship between people. That seems to be the logic behind the view of the Rama that the recipient can be mochel the gift -- it's the thought that counts, not the actual present. If so, perhaps no bracha is recited because the essence of the mitzvah -- friendship and collegiality -- is devarim she'b'lev, and no bracha is recited on devarim she'b'lev.
According to RYGB's sevara, it's also a little trickier. If you hold like the Rama, you could simply say that there is no mitzvah on the recipient to accept anything since he can be mochel. But I wonder how you would resolve this question if you don't hold like the Rama. Using R' Noson Gestetner's logic, since I have to give mishloach manos to somebody, doesn't there have to be some mitzvah on the recipient to accept it, or theoretically at least I would never be able to fulfill my mitzvah? (I did not discuss this last point with RYGB.)
I asked my son what he thought, and he immediately remembered the Ketzos (243:4) has a chidush that nesina ba'al korcho works when it comes to paying off a debt and matnos kehunah. You don't need the kohen to cooperate -- you can force him to take the money.
I thought you could distinguish between tzedakah and pidyon ha'ben. When it comes to tzedakah, if the poor person does not want/need the money, there is no chiyuv. With respect to pidyon ha'ben, the chiyuv exists whether the kohen cooperates or not. His refusal to accept payment deflects the kiyum mitzvah, not the chiyuv.
RYGB wanted to say a bigger chidush and suggest that the kohen has a mitzvah to accept the payment. I did not believe this (see Pesachim 121 where the gemara says with respect to pidyon that the father has the mitzvah; the kohen gets hana'ah) but I found that R' Noson Gestetner in his sefer on chumash on last week's parsha compares the role of the kohen to that of a woman in the process of kidushin -- there is a hechsher mitzvah or a kiyum of some sort, even if there is not a full chiyuv. He writes that m'sevara this has to be the case. How could a yisrael be commanded to do pidyon if every kohen in the world could theoretically turn down his money? How would he do the mitzvah? It must be that the kohen has an obligation of some sort to participate.
Let's test the theories by applying them to another mitzvah: mishloach manos.
You can't force someone to accept mishloach manos, so it makes sense according to the sevara of the Ketzos that there is no bracha.
According to my approach, it's a little trickier. I have a chiyuv of mishloach manos irrespective of someone else's need for my gift, so isn't it like pidyon ha'ben?
The Manos haLevi writes that the purpose of mishloach manos is to engender friendship between people. That seems to be the logic behind the view of the Rama that the recipient can be mochel the gift -- it's the thought that counts, not the actual present. If so, perhaps no bracha is recited because the essence of the mitzvah -- friendship and collegiality -- is devarim she'b'lev, and no bracha is recited on devarim she'b'lev.
According to RYGB's sevara, it's also a little trickier. If you hold like the Rama, you could simply say that there is no mitzvah on the recipient to accept anything since he can be mochel. But I wonder how you would resolve this question if you don't hold like the Rama. Using R' Noson Gestetner's logic, since I have to give mishloach manos to somebody, doesn't there have to be some mitzvah on the recipient to accept it, or theoretically at least I would never be able to fulfill my mitzvah? (I did not discuss this last point with RYGB.)
Thursday, June 07, 2018
meraglim and shlichus
1. V'avdi Kaleiv eikev hay'sa ruach acheres imo... Sefas Emes asks why the Torah has to justify Kaleiv getting a portion in Eretz Yisrael. That should be the result m'meila, by default. It's only everyone else's wrongdoing which caused them to lose their portion.
Sometimes not doing wrong is not enough. When terrible evil is taking place, you have to step up to the plate and take action, take a stand, and let your voice be heard in opposition. Had Kaleiv simply remained passive and not done wrong, I think perhaps he still would have forfeited his portion in the Land. It's only by speaking out that he deserved it. (Sefas Emes gives a different answer.)
2. Rashi (12:3) explains that the term “anashim”, men of importance, is used with respect to the spies because they were righteous people and not sinners. Yet, Rashi later (12:26) explains that the spies already had their evil plan in mind when they departed, implying that they were wicked from the start. Which is it?
There is a well known chakira in Achronim with regards to how shlichus works: if Reuvain appoints Shimon as his agent, does that means that it's as if Shimon becomes Reuvain, and everything done by Shimon is as if Reuvain was doing it, or does it simply means that the **result** of Shimon's action is attributed to Reuvain, but Shimon himself is an independent actor?
Maharal in Gur Aryeh uses the first tzad of the chakira to explain Rashi. The spies who were selected were in fact righteous people. However, once they were selected as shluchim by the tzibur, shlucho shel adam k'moso, they became the tzibur. Klal Yisrael unfortunately did not have the right motives in mind in sending meraglim, and therefore, once appointed, they became tainted by that identification and took on the tzibur's bad character.
We've done this Maharal in a previous post, but I bring it up again to have an excuse to share the Ohr Sameiach's (Geirushin 2:15) beautiful proof to the second tzad of the chakira. The gemara (Temurah 10) raises the question of whether it is the person who brings a korban or whether it is the person for whom the korban serves as a kaparah who can make temurah with it. The gemara proves that it's the latter: the Mishna says that a tzibur or shutafim cannot make temurah. Why not? If the tzibur or shutafim appoint a shliach to bring the korban on their behalf, then the shliach should be able to make temurah with it as he is an individual. QED that it's the person who is getting the kaparah which is the key, and it is still the tzibur/shutafim who are getting the kaparah.
Says the Ohr Sameiach: according to the first tzad of our chakira in shlichus -- Shimon the shliach becomes Reuvain -- then the shliach of the tzibur/shutafim should be no different than the tzibur/shutafim themselves. It's only according to the second tzad -- Shimon the shliach is an independent actor the result of whose deeds are ascribed to Reuvain -- that the gemara makes sense.
Pretty convincing. Amazing bekiyus. It's the Ohr Sameiach after all.
3. The Zohar writes that the meraglim did not want to enter Eretz Yisrael because in the midbar they knew they were the "rosh," but that status would be lost once they entered the Land. We are talking about the best and brightest leaders of the best and brightest generation in Jewish history -- did they really selfishly sabotage everything just to retain their own power?!
Shlucho shel adam k'moso. Sefas Emes (5639) explains that what made the meraglim leaders into the "rosh" was the fact that they represented the "rosh" of Jewish history, a spiritually elite. You want such a generation, they thought, to sacrifice their spiritual bounty and take up growing Jaffa oranges? Farming, building, conquering? What kind of job is that for a nation of kollelniks? It was not protecting their own interests, but rather protecting the spiritual status of their generation which motivated the meraglim.
In a nutshell, the meraglim thought holiness could only be cultivated in the protective bubble of the desert, surrounded by the ananei ha'kavod, sustained by the man and the be'er. The reality is that holiness can be found everywhere -- the more mundane the environment, the greater the kiddush Hashem in sanctifying it and revealing the kedusha found there. That's why we are put in a physical, mundane world. That's why we have to farm, to build, to conquer.
Many meforshim read the parshiyos that follow the cheit ha'meraglim as a response to their error. Rav Teichtel in that vein has a wonderful derush on the pasuk that introduces the mitzvah of challah, "V'haya b'achalchem mi'lechem ha'aretz tarimu terumah la'Hashem." (15:19)
The Tur (208) writes that when one says a bracha mei'ein shalosh, one should omit the words "v'nochal m'pirya v'nisba m'tuva," as there is no inherent value in just enjoying the fruit of Eretz Yisrael. The gemara rhetorically asks, "Did Moshe Rabeinu want to enter Eretz Yisrael just to eat its fruit?" Bach disagrees. He writes that the fruits of Eretz Yisrael are nourished by the Shechina itself, and by eating, we connect with G-d. (See post here.)
"V'haya b'achalchem mi'lechem ha'aretz," when one is not eating man -- when instead one is eating mundane bread, created from the wheat grown and harvested by our secular labor, "tarimu terumah la'Hashem," that is an opportunity to elevate that work, that meal, that food, and discover within it something holy to Hashem. (See Sefas Emes 5641 as well).
4. P.S. The Seforim blog has a fascinating piece looking at some of the material from the archives of R' Herzog's letters, now available online. Link and link. Well worth your time!
Sometimes not doing wrong is not enough. When terrible evil is taking place, you have to step up to the plate and take action, take a stand, and let your voice be heard in opposition. Had Kaleiv simply remained passive and not done wrong, I think perhaps he still would have forfeited his portion in the Land. It's only by speaking out that he deserved it. (Sefas Emes gives a different answer.)
2. Rashi (12:3) explains that the term “anashim”, men of importance, is used with respect to the spies because they were righteous people and not sinners. Yet, Rashi later (12:26) explains that the spies already had their evil plan in mind when they departed, implying that they were wicked from the start. Which is it?
There is a well known chakira in Achronim with regards to how shlichus works: if Reuvain appoints Shimon as his agent, does that means that it's as if Shimon becomes Reuvain, and everything done by Shimon is as if Reuvain was doing it, or does it simply means that the **result** of Shimon's action is attributed to Reuvain, but Shimon himself is an independent actor?
Maharal in Gur Aryeh uses the first tzad of the chakira to explain Rashi. The spies who were selected were in fact righteous people. However, once they were selected as shluchim by the tzibur, shlucho shel adam k'moso, they became the tzibur. Klal Yisrael unfortunately did not have the right motives in mind in sending meraglim, and therefore, once appointed, they became tainted by that identification and took on the tzibur's bad character.
We've done this Maharal in a previous post, but I bring it up again to have an excuse to share the Ohr Sameiach's (Geirushin 2:15) beautiful proof to the second tzad of the chakira. The gemara (Temurah 10) raises the question of whether it is the person who brings a korban or whether it is the person for whom the korban serves as a kaparah who can make temurah with it. The gemara proves that it's the latter: the Mishna says that a tzibur or shutafim cannot make temurah. Why not? If the tzibur or shutafim appoint a shliach to bring the korban on their behalf, then the shliach should be able to make temurah with it as he is an individual. QED that it's the person who is getting the kaparah which is the key, and it is still the tzibur/shutafim who are getting the kaparah.
Says the Ohr Sameiach: according to the first tzad of our chakira in shlichus -- Shimon the shliach becomes Reuvain -- then the shliach of the tzibur/shutafim should be no different than the tzibur/shutafim themselves. It's only according to the second tzad -- Shimon the shliach is an independent actor the result of whose deeds are ascribed to Reuvain -- that the gemara makes sense.
Pretty convincing. Amazing bekiyus. It's the Ohr Sameiach after all.
3. The Zohar writes that the meraglim did not want to enter Eretz Yisrael because in the midbar they knew they were the "rosh," but that status would be lost once they entered the Land. We are talking about the best and brightest leaders of the best and brightest generation in Jewish history -- did they really selfishly sabotage everything just to retain their own power?!
Shlucho shel adam k'moso. Sefas Emes (5639) explains that what made the meraglim leaders into the "rosh" was the fact that they represented the "rosh" of Jewish history, a spiritually elite. You want such a generation, they thought, to sacrifice their spiritual bounty and take up growing Jaffa oranges? Farming, building, conquering? What kind of job is that for a nation of kollelniks? It was not protecting their own interests, but rather protecting the spiritual status of their generation which motivated the meraglim.
In a nutshell, the meraglim thought holiness could only be cultivated in the protective bubble of the desert, surrounded by the ananei ha'kavod, sustained by the man and the be'er. The reality is that holiness can be found everywhere -- the more mundane the environment, the greater the kiddush Hashem in sanctifying it and revealing the kedusha found there. That's why we are put in a physical, mundane world. That's why we have to farm, to build, to conquer.
Many meforshim read the parshiyos that follow the cheit ha'meraglim as a response to their error. Rav Teichtel in that vein has a wonderful derush on the pasuk that introduces the mitzvah of challah, "V'haya b'achalchem mi'lechem ha'aretz tarimu terumah la'Hashem." (15:19)
The Tur (208) writes that when one says a bracha mei'ein shalosh, one should omit the words "v'nochal m'pirya v'nisba m'tuva," as there is no inherent value in just enjoying the fruit of Eretz Yisrael. The gemara rhetorically asks, "Did Moshe Rabeinu want to enter Eretz Yisrael just to eat its fruit?" Bach disagrees. He writes that the fruits of Eretz Yisrael are nourished by the Shechina itself, and by eating, we connect with G-d. (See post here.)
"V'haya b'achalchem mi'lechem ha'aretz," when one is not eating man -- when instead one is eating mundane bread, created from the wheat grown and harvested by our secular labor, "tarimu terumah la'Hashem," that is an opportunity to elevate that work, that meal, that food, and discover within it something holy to Hashem. (See Sefas Emes 5641 as well).
4. P.S. The Seforim blog has a fascinating piece looking at some of the material from the archives of R' Herzog's letters, now available online. Link and link. Well worth your time!
Tuesday, June 05, 2018
sitting on the fence
Rashi writes that the Torah juxtaposes the story of the meraglim in parshas Shlach with the story of Miriam's criticism of Moshe and her punishment (see the meforshei Rashi -- maybe the Torah is simply recording events in chronological order?) because the meraglim should have learned from what happened to Miriam not to speak lashon ha'ra.
R' Mordechai Eliyahu (quoted by his son R' Shmuel here) asked: Miriam criticized Moshe Rabeinu, the adon ha'nevi'im. The meraglim were critical of a place, an inanimate thing, sticks and stones. How can that be compared to Miriam's crime?
Speaking against Moshe Rabeinu is not just ordinary lashon ha'ra -- speaking against Moshe undermines the dvar Hashem. If you cannot trust that Moshe acted 100% in accordance with the ratzon Hashem, then the entire Torah c"v is subject to question. So too, speaking against Eretz Yisrael is not just lashon ha'ra -- speaking against Eretz Yisrael undermines the dvar Hashem. The Torah's mission for Klal Yisrael is for us to establish a nation al pi Torah in Eretz Yisrael. It can't be done anywhere else and any other way. If you don't accept that as a positive goal and don't think that's what we are here for, then you are missing the boat of what Hashem wants from us.
The glass I am happy to say is at least half full. I don't think anyone alive 50, 40, or even 30 years ago could have imagined thousands of kids wearing kipot who are shomrei Torah and mitzvos marching down 5th Ave. in support of the State of Israel, this while l'havdil the Reform invite Michael Chabon to speak at their graduation and bash the State. Amazing. These kids grasp, to some degree, what our mission is.
The Reform and Michael Chabon don't worry me. Nor am I worried too much about rebbes and their followers who chose the same say as the parade to hold an anti-Zionism rally in Nassau Coliseum.
What bothers me is the half empty part of the glass that consists of the thousands of bnei Torah, who, while not openly sympathetic to Satmar, still do not think it is incumbent upon them to march, to rally, to speak out in support of and defense of Israel. Where were they on Sunday? Where are they for other rallies, demonstrations, etc.?
There are, of course, those people who are simply apathetic. They don't think about the issue, so case closed. I am not speaking about those people. I am speaking about people who think they are following a "shitah," meaning they have thought about it a bit, or at least think they are following in the footsteps of people who have thought about it.
I think I get it. I am not aware of any Roshei Yeshiva from hesder being invited to visit Lakewood and being given the kavod that the Satmar Rebbe gets when he goes there. And as bnei Torah, the torah of people like R' Elchanan is like your bread and butter, so certainly his anti-Zionist views will have an impact on your hashkafa. So you have to hedge your bets. You do deep down feel having the State is a good thing, but you don't want to actually get labeled as a Tzioni, you don't want to risk going against da'as Torah, so you park yourself on the fence. You don't go to the Coliseum, but you don't go to the parade either. You can even pretend you are pareve for all kinds of religious reasons -- you can't skip seder for a parade or rally, can you? -- and so remain seated on your perch, not tilting to one side or the other.
Sadly, it doesn't work that way. The NY Times doesn't care why you didn't show up. They don't want to hear a pilpul about your hashkafa. PR and politics is very simple -- showing up IS the battle. Not there = you don't support the cause.
And the RW world knows this too. How do I know? Because a few years ago they gathered with Satmar in Manhattan to say tehillim and protest AGAINST the State because of the supposed threat the draft law posed to yeshiva students. You can say tehillim at home or in your shul. Why come to Manhattan to do it in public? Answer: PR and politics. Because the NY Times is not interested in the sentiments you express in tefilah in your beis medrash at home, but they are interested in a rally.
You can't remain on the fence. Your vote will be counted for or against, willy-nilly. So you might as well start thinking about what you really hold and act on it.
There is an even greater reason than PR and politics that should motivate you to get out there and do whatever you can to support the State. I was davening in shul on Shabbos and noticed the gabai very deliberately left out the words "relishes tzemichas geulaseinu" in reciting the tefilah l'shlom ha'medina. Again, the glass is very much half full! -- at least in this shul the tefilah was recited, which is more than I can so for many other place. But why leave out those words? The idea that there is a "lo zachu" geulah that will unfold slowly (kim'a kim'a, as the Yerushalmi and Midrash put it) though natural means, with the land being given to us by the nations, with kibutz galiyos taking place before binyan hamikdash, is well established in Chazal, Rishonim, and achronim. What does this person think the geulah is supposed to look like? My guess is that he envisions a miracle. Isn't that what most people expect? But most people's view is wrong.
You should support the State because if you take the time to investigate the sources, the evidence will, I am certain, lead you to the conclusion that the re-establishment of an autonomous Jewish state, even with all its present flaws, is the most significant theological event in 2000 years. That this is a step -- we can quibble over how big a step and how many more steps are needed -- toward our ultimate geulah is undeniable.
The question is how do we get people off the fence? And again, I am not speaking about convincing the NY Times, or the BDS crowd, or the Reform. I am speaking about our community minei u'bei. How do make people see support of the State as a religious obligation, not merely a hechsher mitzvah because Eretz Yisrael is the best place to learn, or because we want Jews to be safe? Our obligation to the State should go far beyond that.
I don't pretend to have an answer. I'm just glad the somehow the glass is getting there, filling up bit by bit. I just wish the process would go faster.
R' Mordechai Eliyahu (quoted by his son R' Shmuel here) asked: Miriam criticized Moshe Rabeinu, the adon ha'nevi'im. The meraglim were critical of a place, an inanimate thing, sticks and stones. How can that be compared to Miriam's crime?
Speaking against Moshe Rabeinu is not just ordinary lashon ha'ra -- speaking against Moshe undermines the dvar Hashem. If you cannot trust that Moshe acted 100% in accordance with the ratzon Hashem, then the entire Torah c"v is subject to question. So too, speaking against Eretz Yisrael is not just lashon ha'ra -- speaking against Eretz Yisrael undermines the dvar Hashem. The Torah's mission for Klal Yisrael is for us to establish a nation al pi Torah in Eretz Yisrael. It can't be done anywhere else and any other way. If you don't accept that as a positive goal and don't think that's what we are here for, then you are missing the boat of what Hashem wants from us.
The glass I am happy to say is at least half full. I don't think anyone alive 50, 40, or even 30 years ago could have imagined thousands of kids wearing kipot who are shomrei Torah and mitzvos marching down 5th Ave. in support of the State of Israel, this while l'havdil the Reform invite Michael Chabon to speak at their graduation and bash the State. Amazing. These kids grasp, to some degree, what our mission is.
The Reform and Michael Chabon don't worry me. Nor am I worried too much about rebbes and their followers who chose the same say as the parade to hold an anti-Zionism rally in Nassau Coliseum.
What bothers me is the half empty part of the glass that consists of the thousands of bnei Torah, who, while not openly sympathetic to Satmar, still do not think it is incumbent upon them to march, to rally, to speak out in support of and defense of Israel. Where were they on Sunday? Where are they for other rallies, demonstrations, etc.?
There are, of course, those people who are simply apathetic. They don't think about the issue, so case closed. I am not speaking about those people. I am speaking about people who think they are following a "shitah," meaning they have thought about it a bit, or at least think they are following in the footsteps of people who have thought about it.
I think I get it. I am not aware of any Roshei Yeshiva from hesder being invited to visit Lakewood and being given the kavod that the Satmar Rebbe gets when he goes there. And as bnei Torah, the torah of people like R' Elchanan is like your bread and butter, so certainly his anti-Zionist views will have an impact on your hashkafa. So you have to hedge your bets. You do deep down feel having the State is a good thing, but you don't want to actually get labeled as a Tzioni, you don't want to risk going against da'as Torah, so you park yourself on the fence. You don't go to the Coliseum, but you don't go to the parade either. You can even pretend you are pareve for all kinds of religious reasons -- you can't skip seder for a parade or rally, can you? -- and so remain seated on your perch, not tilting to one side or the other.
Sadly, it doesn't work that way. The NY Times doesn't care why you didn't show up. They don't want to hear a pilpul about your hashkafa. PR and politics is very simple -- showing up IS the battle. Not there = you don't support the cause.
And the RW world knows this too. How do I know? Because a few years ago they gathered with Satmar in Manhattan to say tehillim and protest AGAINST the State because of the supposed threat the draft law posed to yeshiva students. You can say tehillim at home or in your shul. Why come to Manhattan to do it in public? Answer: PR and politics. Because the NY Times is not interested in the sentiments you express in tefilah in your beis medrash at home, but they are interested in a rally.
You can't remain on the fence. Your vote will be counted for or against, willy-nilly. So you might as well start thinking about what you really hold and act on it.
There is an even greater reason than PR and politics that should motivate you to get out there and do whatever you can to support the State. I was davening in shul on Shabbos and noticed the gabai very deliberately left out the words "relishes tzemichas geulaseinu" in reciting the tefilah l'shlom ha'medina. Again, the glass is very much half full! -- at least in this shul the tefilah was recited, which is more than I can so for many other place. But why leave out those words? The idea that there is a "lo zachu" geulah that will unfold slowly (kim'a kim'a, as the Yerushalmi and Midrash put it) though natural means, with the land being given to us by the nations, with kibutz galiyos taking place before binyan hamikdash, is well established in Chazal, Rishonim, and achronim. What does this person think the geulah is supposed to look like? My guess is that he envisions a miracle. Isn't that what most people expect? But most people's view is wrong.
You should support the State because if you take the time to investigate the sources, the evidence will, I am certain, lead you to the conclusion that the re-establishment of an autonomous Jewish state, even with all its present flaws, is the most significant theological event in 2000 years. That this is a step -- we can quibble over how big a step and how many more steps are needed -- toward our ultimate geulah is undeniable.
The question is how do we get people off the fence? And again, I am not speaking about convincing the NY Times, or the BDS crowd, or the Reform. I am speaking about our community minei u'bei. How do make people see support of the State as a religious obligation, not merely a hechsher mitzvah because Eretz Yisrael is the best place to learn, or because we want Jews to be safe? Our obligation to the State should go far beyond that.
I don't pretend to have an answer. I'm just glad the somehow the glass is getting there, filling up bit by bit. I just wish the process would go faster.
Thursday, May 31, 2018
the missing "va'yehi chein" of parshas braishis
1. By each of the days of creation the Torah describes what G-d created, and then tells us, "Va'yehi chein." The exception is on day #1 -- "Va'yomer Elokim ye'hi ohr" is not followed with a "va'yehi chein." Where do we find that missing "va'yehi chein?" You have to wait with baited breath from Braishis until our parsha where you finally find it. Aharon lights the menorah, and the Torah tells us, "Va'ya'as kein Aharon." The light of creation is finally complete. The menorah symbolizes the light of torah sheba'al peh (Aharon is the mouthpiece for Moshe, who represents torah sheb'ksav. "Ki sifsei kohen yisheru da'as..." Therefore, Aharon is the one who does the lighting.) The Torah enlightens us. Without it, we can't see and appreciate Hashem's light, Hashem's presence in the world.
2. At the end of the parsha right after we read that Miriam and Aharon spoke against Moshe the Torah tells us that Moshe was the biggest anav in the world. The meforshim are bothered by the placement of this pasuk. Is this part of Hashem's explanation of why Moshe is different than everyone else? If so, it should come 2 pesukim later, where the Torah tells us Hashem's response. Ohr haChaim and Da'as Zekeinim writes that the Torah is explaining why Hashem had to intercede at all -- why didn't Moshe speak on his own behalf? Netziv writes that the Torah is telling us that Hashem was not interceding because this was an affront to Moshe's kavod -- Moshe did not care about kavod. Hashem had to intercede because the singularity of Moshe's nevuah is an essential fact of our emunah.
Based on the Shem m'Shmuel's analysis of what Miriam and Aharon were thinking, the pasuk fits perfectly in context. Didn't Miriam and Aharon appreciate the uniqueness of Moshe? The Shem m'Shmuel explains that aderaba, it was precisely because of their great appreciation for who Moshe was that they questioned his behavior. Why, they wondered, would a tzadik so perfect, a navi so exalted, need to engage in perishus? Wasn't Moshe immune from failings and temptations the rest of us suffered?
Which is harder -- to fast l'shem shamayim on Yom Kippur, or to eat l'shem shamayim the day before? Surely it is the latter. It is hard to engage with the world and remain untainted by selfish motives or desires. I am sure this is true for all of us. It was true for Miriam and Aharon to some degree. But they perceived that it was not true of Moshe. Moshe Rabeinu remained pure in a way that no one else could. Therefore, Moshe and Moshe alone could sanctify every aspect of his life, even the most mundane, in a way that no one else could. What a kiddush Hashem! So how could he pursue a path of asceticism and withdrawal rather than use his talent to its fullest potential (see Eretz Tzvi of the Kozhiglover on the parsha)?
"V'ha'ish Mosha anav..." is not part of the defense of Moshe, but is part of Miriam and Aharon's complaint! Moshe, they thought, in his great modesty thought of himself as no better than anyone else. Just like others required perishus in some degree or other to avoid being swayed by temptation, so too Moshe thought he required the same. But, that modesty came at a cost. Miriam and Aharon's point was that Moshe was not everyone else. No one else could be mekadesh the world of chomer as only a Moshe could and should.
Hashem's answer in no way undermines their argument. Moshe was indeed above all other nevi'im and was not subject to the foibles others might fall prey too. Nonetheless, because "peh el peh adabeir bo," there was a need for perishus, not for fear of temptation, but rather because this was what the higher level of nevuah demanded.
2. At the end of the parsha right after we read that Miriam and Aharon spoke against Moshe the Torah tells us that Moshe was the biggest anav in the world. The meforshim are bothered by the placement of this pasuk. Is this part of Hashem's explanation of why Moshe is different than everyone else? If so, it should come 2 pesukim later, where the Torah tells us Hashem's response. Ohr haChaim and Da'as Zekeinim writes that the Torah is explaining why Hashem had to intercede at all -- why didn't Moshe speak on his own behalf? Netziv writes that the Torah is telling us that Hashem was not interceding because this was an affront to Moshe's kavod -- Moshe did not care about kavod. Hashem had to intercede because the singularity of Moshe's nevuah is an essential fact of our emunah.
Based on the Shem m'Shmuel's analysis of what Miriam and Aharon were thinking, the pasuk fits perfectly in context. Didn't Miriam and Aharon appreciate the uniqueness of Moshe? The Shem m'Shmuel explains that aderaba, it was precisely because of their great appreciation for who Moshe was that they questioned his behavior. Why, they wondered, would a tzadik so perfect, a navi so exalted, need to engage in perishus? Wasn't Moshe immune from failings and temptations the rest of us suffered?
Which is harder -- to fast l'shem shamayim on Yom Kippur, or to eat l'shem shamayim the day before? Surely it is the latter. It is hard to engage with the world and remain untainted by selfish motives or desires. I am sure this is true for all of us. It was true for Miriam and Aharon to some degree. But they perceived that it was not true of Moshe. Moshe Rabeinu remained pure in a way that no one else could. Therefore, Moshe and Moshe alone could sanctify every aspect of his life, even the most mundane, in a way that no one else could. What a kiddush Hashem! So how could he pursue a path of asceticism and withdrawal rather than use his talent to its fullest potential (see Eretz Tzvi of the Kozhiglover on the parsha)?
"V'ha'ish Mosha anav..." is not part of the defense of Moshe, but is part of Miriam and Aharon's complaint! Moshe, they thought, in his great modesty thought of himself as no better than anyone else. Just like others required perishus in some degree or other to avoid being swayed by temptation, so too Moshe thought he required the same. But, that modesty came at a cost. Miriam and Aharon's point was that Moshe was not everyone else. No one else could be mekadesh the world of chomer as only a Moshe could and should.
Hashem's answer in no way undermines their argument. Moshe was indeed above all other nevi'im and was not subject to the foibles others might fall prey too. Nonetheless, because "peh el peh adabeir bo," there was a need for perishus, not for fear of temptation, but rather because this was what the higher level of nevuah demanded.
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
mitzvos bnei noach vs Torah law
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.
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
