The Relevant Parsha

Out of Egypt: Yosef's Bones

2012-01-25T20:31:00.000-08:00

Part-one of this post dealt with the foreshadowing of our story back in Parshas Lech Lecha. Read it here.

When the time comes for the Jews to leave Egypt, the state of their spiritual health is the question of the hour. After so many years of slavery, what remains of their faith and identity? Actually, this is the central question for all the rest of Chumash. How much damage has Egypt inflicted on the soul of the Jew?

The answer is sad. At the Red Sea, the angels of heaven famously questioned God, "Both the Jews and the Egyptians are idolators! Why are You saving the Jews and killing the Egyptians?!" The Jews were so assimilated, even the angels couldn't tell them apart from Egyptians. But in order for the Jews to merit an Exodus from Egypt, they must first get Egypt out of their system. How is this going to be accomplished?

First, they will have to disavow Egyptian culture. Second, they must affirm their Jewish identity. And indeed, Hashem commands them to do these two things before they leave the country. First they were commanded to slaughter a sheep - an animal sacred to the Egyptians - and place its blood on their doorposts (12:6-7). In this way, they rejected Egyptian paganism. And then they were told to circumcise themselves, affirming their identity as Jews (12:48). It was due to the merit of these two mitzvos that the Jews were able leave Egypt (cf. Rashi to 12:6).

As we have seen, this was unfortunately insufficient. At the Red Sea the angels still couldn't tell the difference between the Jew and the Egyptian. For the sea to split, the merit of an even greater rejection of Egyptian culture was needed and this was found in none other than the bones of Yosef.

"The Sea saw and fled" (Psalms 114:3). It saw the coffin of Yosef descending into the sea. Hashem said, "Flee before the one who fled!" As the verse states, "He left his garment with her and fled and went outside" (Bereishis 39:12). (Yalkut Shimoni 873)

Like his forefather Avraham before him, Yosef was a man of steel, uninfluenced by the fleshpot of Egypt. And in the end, it was the bones of Yosef HaTzaddik, the bones which withstood the seductions of exile, that split the sea.

It is perfectly natural to be seduced. But when man refuses to be assimilated into his environment and transcends his nature, then man is truly free - and nature itself will transcend its laws in his service and deliver him to freedom.

Escape to Yeshiva

2011-12-02T10:01:00.001-08:00

If you work out the years of Yaakov's life, there are fourteen years unaccounted for. Tradition tells us that between Parshas Toldos and Vayeitzei Yaakov spent fourteen years hiding out in yeshiva (cf. Rashi at the end of Toldos citing Megillah 17a).

This is difficult on several levels. Firstly, wouldn't that be the first place Eisav would look? Secondly, long ago Yaakov was described as יושב אוהלים, "one who dwells in tents." Rashi explains, "the tent of Shem and the tent of Ever." Yaakov was always in yeshiva, and now he goes there to hide?! What did he do, change his seat? Thirdly, when Rivka was having a difficult pregnancy, she went לדרוש את השם to find out what was going on. Rashi explains that she asked Shem, which means the Yeshiva was in her neighborhood! (In her condition, she could not have traveled far.) So Yaakov hid from Eisav for fourteen years in a yeshiva down the block? The very same yeshiva he had been learning in his whole life?!

I believe the answer can be found in the Gemorah itself. The Gemorah does not say Yaakov went to hide in the Yeshiva of Shem. Nor does the Gemorah say he went to the Yeshiva of Shem & Ever. The Gemorah says Yaakov went to hide in בית עבר. (See מהרש"א מגילה שם.)

There were two different Yeshivos! Shem had a Yeshiva and Ever had a Yeshiva. This is indicated by the very first reference - יושב אהלים - "tents." "The tent of Shem and the tent of Ever." The Midrash is unequivocal: "[Yaakov] left the Beis Medrash of Shem and went to the Beis Medrash of Ever" (Tanchuma Yashan, Vayishlach 9).

There was never "one big Jewish tent." There were always (at least) two different tents.

Yaakov spent his entire life studying under his master, the Alter Zeide Shem. The Midrash says he served Shem for fifty years. When Shem passed away thirteen years earlier, Yaakov undoubtedly became the Rosh Yeshiva of Beis Shem. But now he had to hide. Where to run? To the last place Eisav would expect him to be. As a rank-and-file student in the competing, second-tier Yeshiva, the Yeshiva of Ever, Shem's great-grandson.

It never occurred to Eisav that Yaakov would go to Ever, for Eisav's arrogant mind could never understand the humility that Torah study engenders. But it was this humility saved Yaakov's life, broadened his outlook by exposing him to a different דרך הלימוד and - מעשה אבות סימן לבנים - became the hallmark of the true בן ישיבה.

Avraham's Finest Hour?

2011-11-24T21:12:00.001-08:00

I heard a question this past Shabbos that gave me pause. Rabbi Kupfer spoke at Adas Torah on Friday night and he asked as follows.

Why did Avraham wait until his wife died before purchasing the Machpelah Cave? He clearly knew what he wanted (cf. 23:8-9); according to the Midrash he had known for years that the Machpelah Cave was the burial site of Adam and Chavah (cf. Baal HaTurim to 18:7). Wouldn't the responsible thing be to buy it in advance? What would Avraham do if Efron was out of town when Sarah died? In short, why wait?

This is an excellent question that I have never heard anyone ask before.

Rabbi Kupfer explained that the Machpelah Cave was a very sacred site, on the border between Heaven and Earth. Avraham and Sarah would not be worthy of it before Avraham passed the ten tests. He therefore did not buy it before passing the Akeida - which happened to coincide with Sarah's death.

I believe there is a simpler answer.

The Talmud in Sanhedrin (111a) (quoted by Rashi Shemos 6:8) reports Hashem's sharp response when Moshe complained:

What a shame for what is lost and no longer extant! ... I told Avraham "Get up and travel the length and breadth of the land for I will give it to you" (Bereishis 13), [but when] he searched for a burial site for Sara and couldn't find one for less than 400 silver shekels he didn't question me.

According to the Talmud in Baba Basra (16b), even the Satan was impressed:

Master of the World, I have wandered the entire earth and I have not found another like your servant Avraham.You said to him, "Get up and journey through the land, its length and width, for I will give it you..." (13:17). But when he wanted to bury his wife he couldn't find a place to bury her! Yet he didn't question you.

(The Ramban makes reference to this Gemora in his final comments on this episode and, in his commentary to Avos, Rabbeinu Yona counts the burial of Sarah as Avraham's tenth test.)

This explains why Avraham never bought the Machpelah Cave - it would have demonstrated a lack of faith in Hashem's promise to give him the entire Land of Israel! The very fact that in the end Avraham was forced to pay for it and yet didn't question God was, in the Satan's view at least, Avraham's finest hour.

Out of Egypt: Avraham vs. Lot

2011-11-17T11:33:00.001-08:00

After their ordeal in Egypt, Avram, Sarai and Lot return to Israel. At this point in the story, it would be fair for us to wonder what effect, if any, their trip had on them. The Torah does not disappoint.

Avram went up from Egypt, he and his wife... and Lot was with him... He journeyed on from the south to Bais El to the original site of his tent between Bais El and Ai, to the site of the first altar that he had made. And Avram called there in the name of Hashem. (Bereishis 13:1-4)

The Torah goes out of its way to emphasize the fact that Egypt had absolutely no effect on Avraham. Despite exposure to the indulgences and immorality of Egypt, despite the drama in the King's palace and despite his new-found wealth and power, Avraham returns to his humble tent in desert and continues in his mission of teaching monotheism as if nothing happened. His nephew Lot, however, is another story.

Lot raised his eyes and viewed the entire Jordan plain. It was completely fertile - this was before Hashem destroyed Sodom and Amorah - like a garden of Hashem, like the land of Egypt... Lot chose the entire Jordan plain for himself... (13:10)

How could the Torah, in the very same breath, compare the region of Sodom and Amorah to both the Garden of Eden and the land of Egypt?! I heard the answer to this question from Lisabeth Kaplan o"h in the Hillel House of UCSC. She explained that the Torah here is not describing reality. It is describing what Lot saw when he "raised his eyes." And after his trip to Egypt, Lot was one confused individual.

Lot missed Egypt. He loved the time he spent there and on his return to Israel he was searching not only for the Garden of God, but for the fleshpot of Egypt too. He wanted both, and when he saw the blessed, fertile plains of Sodom and Amorah he found exactly what he was looking for - or so he thought. Thus did Lot depart from his uncle Avram to meet his doom in Sodom.

Avram's descent into Egypt and his return to Israel foreshadows the future national exile of the Jewish people in Egypt and their subsequent Exodus and return to Israel (cf. Ramban to 12:10). (This is obviously more than a mere literary device. As the Midrash says, "The events of the forefathers are a sign for the descendants.") If we can take this idea one step further, it stands to reason that the diametrically opposed behaviors of Avraham and Lot - behaviors which ultimately tore them apart - parallel divergent attitudes of Jews at the time of the Exodus. Unfortunately, this is indeed the case. Not all the Jews wanted to leave Egypt (cf. Rashi to Shemos 10:22). And even among the Jews who did want to go, there were those who wished to take Egypt with them... but we are getting ahead of ourselves. The second half of our story must wait for Parshas B'shalach.

Sarah the Punisher II

2011-11-17T11:18:00.001-08:00

Pharaoh is punished for taking Sarai and the verse says he is punished על דבר שרי אשת אברהם (Bereishis 12:17). Artscroll renders it "because of Sarai," but Rashi quotes a fascinating Midrash that translates the phrase literally: "by the word of Sarai." Hashem sent an angel who did Sarai's bidding. When she said "strike," the angel attacked Pharaoh. (For an explanation of the unusual punishment chosen by Sarai, see this post.)

This Midrash begs the question. Why? Why didn't Hashem just stop Pharaoh directly? Why does He put it into Sarai's hands to mete out Pharaoh's punishment?

The answer can be found between the lines of a Midrash (B.R. 53:6, cited by the Ohr HaChaim to 12:13) which relates our episode to the parsha of Sotah, the suspected adulteress:

Rabbi Yitzchok said, "Hashem said 'If the woman did not adultery and is pure and innocent, she will have a child' (Bamidbar 5:28). This woman [Sarai] entered the house of Pharaoh and the house of Avimelech and left pure - certainly she should be blessed with a child!

This is an extraordinary Midrash. It understands that a Sotah who turns out to be innocent is rewarded with a child not due to some mysterious power of Sotah water but simply because she withstood the test of being alone with a man. It certainly follows, says the Midrash, that Sarai, who withstood the advances of the King of Egypt, should be blessed with a child. Indeed she was and they named him Yitzchok.

(Not that this was a difficult test for our mother Sarai. She was a Tzadeikes and never entertained the thought, ח"ו. But she is rewarded nonetheless. Just because it's easy doesn't mean it doesn't count. On the contrary, if a test is easy for you, you should get extra credit!)

This explains why Hashem did not stop Pharaoh. To stop Pharaoh would undermine the test that ultimately created Yitzchok. Hashem put it in Sarai's hands. If she wants, she can drop Avraham and become the new Queen of Egypt. Or, if she so chooses, she has an angel at her disposal that will stop Pharaoh in his tracks. The decision is hers.

Why Bilaam Failed

2011-07-14T12:51:00.000-07:00

Dedicated for the refuah shleima of
Nechama Batya bat Tziporah

Parshas Balak is a difficult parsha. From Hashem’s first prohibiting and then permitting Bilaam to go with the King’s officers, to the episode of the talking donkey, to the obscure, poetic verses of Bilaam’s curses turned blessings, there is much here in need of explanation and commentary. But these problems all pale before the Big Question that hangs over the entire parsha:

What was Bilaam thinking?

Bilaam wants destroy the Jews – it is nothing less than total destruction that he is after (cf. Rashi to 22:11; Tosfos to Berachos 7a) – and he thinks he can do this… with Hashem’s permission?! Bilaam knows the Jews are God’s Chosen People, he knows Hashem took them out of Egypt, gave them His Torah and is now bringing their unstoppable army into the Land of Israel, and Bilaam thinks that Hashem will allow him – a hired mercenary – to reverse the will of God and destroy the Jews? Why? Because Balak is paying him handsomely? This question is the white elephant of Parshas Balak, but before we can address it we must first raise another problem.

In a bizarre act of unspeakable chutzpah, Bilaam asks God for permission to destroy the Jews. But God’s response is even stranger than the request. No, you can’t curse them, says God, “for they are blessed” (22:12).

Just “Blessed”? What about the covenant of Sinai? What about God’s utopian society, the Chosen People in Israel, the Light unto the Nations? Strangely enough, it seems the only protection we have against Bilaam’s curses is not God’s plan for the world, but our own blessedness.

It has been quite some time since the Jews received a blessing. In fact, they have not been blessed since the days of the forefathers. Hashem is telling Bilaam that he is doomed to fail for his curses will hit the wall of divine blessings received centuries earlier by Avraham, Yitzchok and Yaakov.

When the second set of emissaries try to convince him to take the job, Bilaam’s initial response is negative, “[Even] if Balak would give me [enough] gold and silver to fill his house, I am unable to violate the word of God my Lord” (22:18). Rashi notes, “Here he prophesies his inability to nullify the blessings that the forefathers were blessed by Hashem.” Bilaam says as much a second time, in his first attempted curse: "From the top of the rocks I see him" (23:9), by which he means, "I gaze at their beginnings, at their earliest roots, and I see them as well-founded and powerful as these rocks and hills through their patriarchs and matriarchs" (Rashi ad loc.). It is the forefathers who are saving us here, and Bilaam knew it.

Nonetheless, the subtext of the forefathers – Avraham in particular – repeatedly expresses itself in ways that get harder and harder to understand.

“Bilaam got up in the morning and he saddled his donkey” (22:21).

God said, “Rasha! Avraham their father beat you to it!” “Avraham got up early in the morning and saddled his donkey (to go to the Akeida)” (Bereishis 22:3) (Rashi ad loc.).

Is this some kind of race? It is one thing to say that Bilaam can’t curse the Jews because of the Abrahamic blessings, but this Midrash sounds like Bilaam and Avraham are in a competition!

What does it mean?

Another example: When Bilaam’s donkey is blocked repeated by an angel, Rashi asks, “Why did [the angel] block him in three different locations? He was showing him a sign of the forefathers” (Rashi to 22:26). The Maharal of Prague ‘explains.’ The first time the angel stood in his way it was symbolic of Avraham. Here Bilaam’s donkey can easily circumvent the angel, for many nations come from Avraham: Yishmael, the children of Ketura and Eisav. The second time the angel blocked the path it was symbolic of Yitzchok. Here it is more difficult to pass him, with only two tight options on either side, for Yitzchok allows for only Yaakov or Eisav. But the final time the angel blocks Bilaam there is no way through. This corresponds to Yaakov whose children were all Jewish.

Bilaam can get past Avraham and Yitzchok, but not Yaakov? The mysterious words of the Maharal shall soon become clear, but only after another appearance of the forefathers in our parsha.

Our final example deals with what must be the most bizarre scene in a parsha filled with the bizarre. When Bilaam finally meets Balak and accepts the job of cursing the Jews, he instructs the pagan Moabite king to build an altar and offer kosher sacrifices to the God of Israel! Seven altars, no less. What can this possibly mean? Is Balak a Kohen?! Rashi’s comments only compound the mystery.

[Bilaam said to Hashem,] “the forefathers of these [Jews] built before you seven altars and I have set up [seven] corresponding to all of them!” Avraham built four… Yitzchok built one… and Yaakov built two…

How are we to understand this? What exactly is Bilaam doing here?

Bilaam has a problem. He knows that God has a plan for the world and the Jews are the centerpiece of God’s plan. He knows that God wants a people who will recognize Him, serve Him and provide a model society for the nations of the world – and God has chosen the Jews. This is Bilaam’s conundrum: How can he successfully destroy God’s people? It sounds impossible, but Bilaam comes up with a plan. His plan is radical and ambitious, frightening in its simplicity. Even if you can’t beat the Jews, maybe you can replace them.

God wants humanity to recognize Him? Fine. Balak, King of Moab, together with his dignitaries, will build altars and offer sacrifices to the One God. Who needs the Jews? God can make a new testament. The Nation of Moab shall build a sanctuary for the God of Israel and become the New Jews.

Bilaam's plan is laid bare by his curses. When Bilaam tries to curse the Jews, “Hashem turned the curse around into a blessing” (Devarim 23:6). It follows, says the Talmud, that from the blessings we can infer Bilaam’s intended curses. Jewish prayer begins every morning with Bilaam’s most famous line: “How goodly are your tents, Yaakov, your sanctuaries, Israel” (Bamidbar 24:5). Bilaam must have been trying to say that the Jews should have no houses of worship and no houses of study. Hashem turned this curse into a positive statement about our “tents” and “sanctuaries” (Sanhedrin 105b). But how could have Bilaam possibly thought he could get God’s permission for a curse that would leave God bereft of the only places on Earth dedicated to His service? Unless, of course, Bilaam intended to replace those sanctuaries. This is why the king of Moab is bringing offerings to God.

Madness, you say. There is no way Bilaam could have ever entertained the thought that Moab could replace the Jews. But you forget one thing. King David and his descendant King Moshiach come from Moab! David’s grandmother was Ruth, the granddaughter of Balak himself. If the Redeemer can come from Moab, why can’t Moab be the Chosen Nation? Moreover, Moab already has “Jewish” blood, for the nation of Moab is descended from Lot, Avraham nephew. There was a time, before Yitzchok was born, that people thought Lot would be the inheritor of Avraham’s legacy (cf. Rashi to Bereishis 13:7). Moab thus comes from the same great hereditary line of Shem that produced our three patriarchs and four matriarchs. Who says they can’t replace us?

Hashem understands what Bilaam is trying to do and His response is simple. Maybe you’re right. Maybe the Jews are theoretically replaceable. But you are too late. Avraham, Yitzchok and Yaakov beat you to it. You can’t curse the Jews for they are already blessed.

This is what the Maharal was saying. Maybe there is room to get around Avraham and Yitzchok. At that stage there may have been other contenders for the crown. But after Yaakov, the game is over. The Chosen People are chosen, and it’s the Jews.

Nonetheless, Bilaam’s decides to move forward with his plan. In order to succeed, he must convince Balak to accept God and convince God to reject the Jews. He fails at both.

Although Balak plays along when it comes to Jewish ritual and he builds the altars and offers the sacrifices, he balks when it comes to the key element of Monotheism: the surrender of personal agendas before God. This kind of sacrifice Balak is unwilling to perform. Bilaam repeatedly tells him that he cannot violate God’s will and may only do what God tells him to do. The religious education of Moab is a central element of Bilaam’s strategy, but Balak just gets angry. “Balak got angry with Bilaam and he slapped his hands, ‘I called you in to curse my enemies and you have blessed them three times! Now flee…!’” (24:11). Balak’s refusal to say Naaseh V’Nishma destroys Bilaam’s plan before it gets off the ground.

It’s a catch twenty-two. In order to become the new Chosen Nation, Balak must curse the Jews and accept the God of Israel. Fortunately for us, those two things are mutually exclusive.

Bilaam also fails to convince God to reject the Jews. This he had hoped to achieve by presenting a negative perspective on the Jewish People through curses, but once again his strategy is self-defeating.

Anyone who has the following three traits is a student of our father Avraham; three different traits and they are a student of the wicked Bilaam. [Those who have] a positive perspective (lit. "a good eye," ayin tova), a humble spirit and an unassuming soul are students of our father Avraham. [Those with] a negative perspective, an arrogant spirit and a greedy soul are students of the wicked Bilaam.

Pirkei Avos 5:22

More than anything else, it is a negative attitude that differentiates a person from Avraham. But in order to convince Hashem that Moab can replace the forefathers, Bilaam must curse and present a negative view of the Jews! Once again, he is trapped in a catch twenty-two.

Bilaam tries to curse the Jews, but “Hashem turned the curse around into a blessing because Hashem your Lord loves you” (Devarim 23:6). Hashem’s refuses to change His positive perspective on the Jewish People because He loves us. From where does this divine love come? Why does Hashem love the Jews?

You should know that it is not on account of your righteousness that Hashem your Lord gives you this good land as an inheritance, for you are a stubborn nation. Remember and do not forget how you have angered Hashem your Lord in the desert; from the day that you left Egypt until you arrived to this place you have been rebelling against Hashem…

It is just that Hashem desired your forefathers to love them, and He chose their descendants after them – you – from all the nations, as [we see] today.

Devarim 9:6-7; 10:15

Yes, it was Hashem’s love that blocked Bilaam’s curses, but we inherited that love from Avraham, Yitzchok and Yaakov. The competition between Moab and Israel thus ultimately boils down to a competition between Moab and our forefathers. Bilaam knows this and that is why he instructed Balak to build seven altars. But not only does Moab lose this dangerous game, their attempt backfires.

An Ammonite or Moabite [male convert] may not enter Hashem’s community (i.e., marry a Jew). Even the tenth generation may not enter Hashem’s community – never. This is because they did not offer you bread and water when you were on the way out of Egypt, and because they hired Bilaam the son of Beor…

Devarim 23:4-5

Balak thinks he can replace our forefathers with his offerings, but he ignores the fundamental trait that God loved most about Avraham: chesed. Altars don’t make the Jew, kindness and a positive, caring outlook does. So at the very moment Balak was offering his oxen to the God of Israel, God wants to know why Balak isn’t providing bread and water to the Jews. Not only does Moab fail to replace the Jews, they end up worse off than they started: a Moabite convert may never even marry a Jew.

There is a deep irony here, a divine tragicomedy. The forefather of Moab is Lot, Avraham’s nephew. Lot was a student of his uncle and he learned well the art of chesed. In fact, it was Lot’s extraordinary act of inviting two strangers into his home in Sodom that led to the birth of his son Moab! (cf. Bereishis chap. 19). And Boaz, leader of the Jewish People, marries Ruth, a Moabite convert, because he is impressed by her chesed! (cf. Ruth 2:11-12; 3:10). Moab was created by chesed (cf. Vayikra 20:17) and chesed is their gift. A failure of chesed by Moab (and Ammon) is thus a failure of their national mission and suffers severe consequences. (This explains why their failure to provide bread and water is considered even worse than their crime of hiring Bilaam and is mentioned by the Torah first.)

In their desperate attempt to replace Avraham, the Moabites compromised their very own inborn trait of chesed – Avraham’s raison d’être – torpedoing their only chance at replacing Avraham.

Ironic, indeed!

A Piece of Good Advice: Shemittah!

2011-05-16T11:13:00.000-07:00

New audio shiur on Parshas Behar, delivered this past Friday: Shemittah. Or, if you're a conservationist: Shmita.

Something for your Seder

2011-04-12T11:18:00.000-07:00

Two new classes about Pesach. The first was delivered back on Parshas Bo and it's entitled, “Defeat of the Control-Freak: How the Tenth Plague destroyed Pharaoh.” The second is just a few days old: "Neutralizing the Marror with Charoses."

For more audio and articles about Pesach, click on the Passover label below.

Chag Sameach & Gut Yom Tov!

On the Trail of Blessings: Yosef's Communique

2010-12-16T11:59:00.000-08:00

[This is part 7 1/2 of the series. Begin the Trail here.]

After revealing his identity, Yosef is eager to send word to his father. He instructs his brothers:

Hurry! Go up to my father and tell him: "Your son Yosef says, 'God [אלוהים] has installed me as the master of all of Egypt...'" (45:9)

Did Yosef really think his brothers would forget to mention that?! Why the need for this communique? Compounding the mystery, the brothers don't deliver the message accurately. They return home and say this to Yaakov:

Yosef is still alive! And he is governor [מושל] of all of Egypt. (45:26)

They switched "master" for "governor" and left God out of the message altogether. If the brothers were trying to make the news more believable, their plan failed: "[Yaakov's] heart skipped a beat, for he could not believe them" (45:26). Seeing that that didn't work, they decided to follow Yosef's orders: "They told him all the words that Yosef had spoken to them, and he saw the wagons that Yosef had sent to carry him" (45:27). That worked: "The spirit of their father Yaakov was then revived."

What happened here? What was the significance of Yosef's choice of words? And how do the wagons factor in?

There is a basic difference between a master and a governor. A governor may have wide ranging powers, but no slaves. Masters have slaves. Yosef was telling Yaakov that אלוהים had made him master of all Egypt; i.e., Egypt served him. Yosef was confident that these words would trigger a flashback.

Many years earlier, Yaakov stood before his blind father Yitzchok wearing Eisav's clothes. Yitzchok began to speak:

אלוהים will give you from the dew of the heaven and from the fat of the earth; much grain and wine. Nations will serve you...

This is Yosef's message for his father: Yitzchok's blessing for Eisav, the blessing you were forced to steal and the blessing I dreamed about - it flows through my veins! Much grain, indeed! Nations serve me! It is nothing other than the blessing of אלוהים.

Yaakov heard these words and then saw "the wagons that Yosef had sent to carry him" (45:27). Just a few verses later those very same wagons are called "the wagons that Pharaoh had sent to carry him" (46:5) for these were royal chariots which could only leave the country by the king's order. But Yosef had sent them! Proof positive that the Nation of Egypt really did serve Yosef.

Governorship Yaakov did not recognize, but a divinely orchestrated Master of Nations - that was something he could believe. "The spirit of their father Yaakov was then revived."

[Continue the Trail here.]

The Light of the Shamash

2010-12-08T12:47:00.000-08:00

A Shiur on Chanukah delivered yesterday at Gerber & Co. I must admit that it is D'rush, but good D'rush nonetheless. Click here to download.

On the Trail of Blessings: A Light Unto the Nations?

2010-11-30T11:19:00.000-08:00

[This is post number 4 1/2 of this series. Begin the Trail here.]

Hashem describes Avraham's relationship with the rest of the world in two different ways. Initially, in the Berachos at the beginning of Parshas Lech Lecha, Hashem says, ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה, "through you all the families of the earth will be blessed" (12:3). But later Hashem says this, "ונברכו בו כל גויי הארץ, "Through him all the nations of the world will be blessed" (18:18). And again, after the Akeida, Hashem says, והתברכו בזרעך כל גויי הארץ, "through your descendants all the nations of the world will be blessed" (22:18).

Obviously, "nations of the world" is not the same thing as "families of the earth." Why the difference? In light of what we have learned, this too can be explained.

The original Beracha found at the beginning of Lech Lecha speaks to the Abrahamic destiny as it relates to the physical realm. This is the piece that Yitzchok broke off for Eisav and, as we have seen, it is not limited to the Land of Israel. (Indeed, Israel does not appear in this blessing.) In the end, this national blessing/mission of influencing the world for the good is fulfilled by the Jew in the Diaspora through personal contact with individual gentiles. Thus, it is משפחות האדמה as opposed to גויי הארץ that are impacted.

Later, however, Hashem is defining ברכת אברהם as it manifests itself in Yitzchok (cf. 18:18-19). The reason for the change becomes clear after after the Akieda. If Yitzchok is an עולה תמימה and can never leave Israel, how will he impact the world? How will the Beracha of ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה be fulfilled? This is the question that Hashem is addressing immediately after the Akeida, and this is the answer: וירש זרעך את שער איביו והתברכו בזרעך כל גויי הארץ, "Your descendants will inherit the gates of their enemies," i.e., they will conquer Israel and build a Jewish State, and then, "through your descendants all the nations of the world will be blessed." Nations, not families. Even if the Jews never leave Israel and never come into contact with a gentile, they can still fix the world, for by creating a utopian Jewish State the Jews create a model for the nations of the world. This is what the prophet means when he describes us as an אור לגוים, "a light unto the nations" (Yeshaya 42:6). A light shines from a distance and from that distance it enlightens the nations.

This also explains the other discrepancy between the blessings. To be a model to the nations of the world, a Jewish nation is needed. Thus in contrast with the blessing to the "families of the earth" which Avraham can effect by himself - ונברכו בך - the blessing to nations cannot occur through Yitzchok alone, but only through the nation of Israel, his descendants - והתברכו בזרעך.

Our theory is borne out by Yitzchok's prophecy in Parshas Toldos. Hashem tells him, ונתתי לזרעך את כל הארצות האל והתברכו בזרעך כל גויי הארץ, "I shall give to your descendants all of these lands," i.e., Israel, "and through your descendants all the nations of the world will be blessed." Here we have the exact same words Hashem said to Avraham after the Akieda. Never does Hashem say to Yitzchok what He said to Avraham at the beginning of Lech Lecha: ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה, for Yitzchok can never leave Israel to impact the gentiles of the world on a familial level. His destiny is limited to being a light unto the nations. The Beracha for משפחות האדמה has been replaced by the Beracha for גויי הארץ.

What does Hashem say to Yaakov on this crucial issue? Hashem addresses it only once and at a critical juncture - when Yaakov is on his way out of Israel, after stealing his brother's Beracha and usurping his brother's mission abroad. Here is what Hashem says: והיה זרעך כעפר הארץ ופרצת ימה וקדמה וצפנה ונגבה ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה ובזרעך, "Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth and you shall spread out to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south," i.e., you and your descendants are destined to leave Israel and spread out all over the world and then,"through you and through your descendants all the families of the earth will be blessed" (28:14). The original Beracha that Hashem gave Avraham at the beginning of Lech Lecha has reappeared! For, as we have seen, it was precisely this Beracha - as an independent blessing and agenda - that Yitzchok attempted to give to Eisav and ended up in Yaakov's hands.

All the families of the earth will be blessed through Yaakov, for the destiny of Yaakov, and the destiny of his descendants who follow in his path, is in the Diaspora. There they will meet the gentile, introducing him to family values and inspiring him with the beauty of a life grounded in monotheism. Not a broad and vague "light unto the nations" from a distance, but an intimate blessing of personal contact with the families of the earth.

Eisav was an unbridled pagan who failed to live up to his destiny, forcing Yaakov to "steal" his Beracha and go abroad to do Eisav's job. But Yaakov's loss is the gentile's gain. And, more often than not, that gentile is none other than Eisav himself.

[Continue the Trail here.]

On the Trail of Blessings: Yaakov Abroad

2010-11-29T10:26:00.000-08:00

[This is part 5 1/2 of the series. Begin the Trail here.]

To sum up what we have learned thus far: Eisav's life-mission, as Yitzchok understood it, was to be מקדש שם שמים outside the the Land of Israel by subjugating all natural forces before the One God. These forces are manifest in God's intermediaries, the angels. Eisav failed miserably, worshiping the very forces that he was supposed to dominate, and Yaakov is forced to commandeer his brother's mission. It follows that Yaakov must now confront angels, and that, indeed, is exactly what happens.

The development of Yaakov's relationship with angels makes for a fascinating study. Soon after Yaakov heads out for Charan, ויפגע במקום - Yaakov encounters the gate to heaven, a place of angels. Here Yaakov sees angels for the first time. The angels are ascending and descending a ladder connecting heaven to earth, attending to their business - and ignoring him (28:11-12). Still in Israel, Yaakov deals only with Hashem Himself. But that is soon to change.

Now a successful rancher, Yaakov is engaged in ongoing financial conflicts with his father-in-law Lavan. One night in a dream, Yaakov has a vision of angels taking sheep from Lavan and carrying them over to Yaakov's corral! (31:10; Rashi ad loc.) The angels are working for him! A clear sign that Yaakov is succeeding in getting the natural world under his control. Indeed, earlier in the story we find Yaakov manipulating the laws of nature through the use of practical Kabbalah, genetically engineering the offspring of his flock (30:37-39; Rashi to 38). Avraham and Yitzchok never engaged in this kind of mystical practice, nor did Yaakov once he returned to Israel. But becoming an איש שדה, gaining mastery over nature, is central to Yaakov's mission abroad.

His third meeting with angels at the end of the Parsha is described this way: ויפגעו בו מלאכי אלהים - "God's angels encountered him" (32:2). In contrast to the beginning of the Parsha where ויפגע במקום, he encountered them, now, on his return to Israel, ויפגעו בו, they encounter him! Yaakov has gained supremacy over nature and the angels, and now he is the point of reference. His prowess knows no limits. וישלח יעקב מלאכים, "Yaakov sent angels.." (32:4). Incredibly, angels are subservient to Yaakov and do his bidding. More, ויאבק איש עמו, he wrestles an angel - and wins! (32:25-26). But the climax is yet to come.

When Eisav and Yaakov finally meet, Eisav asks, מי לך כל המחנה הזה אשר פגשתי, "What is your relationship with this whole encampment that I encountered?" (33:8). Rashi quotes the Midrash:

[Eisav] met up with groups of angels that pushed him and his men. [The angel]s asked them, "Who are you with?" "We are Eisav's men," they responded. "Attack!" yelled the angels. The men said, "Leave us alone. He is the son of Yitzchok!" They payed no attention. "He is the grandson of Avraham!" They payed no attention. "He is the brother of Yaakov!" "If so," said the angels, "then you are one of us."

Yaakov reached a level of dominance over nature that Avraham and Yitzchok never achieved, for this is a mission Yaakov inherited from Eisav, a mission for the Diaspora. When the Jew lives in a world ruled by nature and is forced to be an איש שדה, then his physical and spiritual survival depend on remaining on top of his game - physically and spiritually. He cannot become subservient or worshipful of the forces - natural or market - that define his world; on the contrary, his mission is to be מקדש שם שמים by demonstrating that he will not bow nor surrender before anything other than the One God. This is the definition of success: איזהו עשיר השמח בחלקו. It is a mindset: nature is God's agent and it serves the Tzaddik, not the other way around. The Beracha that Yaakov stole and the mission that came with it are thus one and the same. And, unlike his brother Eisav, Yaakov aces it.

איתא בכתובות דף סו ע"ב, "בכה רבן יוחנן בן זכאי ואמר אשריכם ישראל, בזמן שעושין רצונו של מקום אין כל אומה ולשון שולטת בהם..." וכתב המהרש"א באמ"ד, "כי כל אומה יש לה שר ומזל בשמים משא"כ ישראל שאין להם שום מזל אבל הם חלק ה' עמו כי יעקב חבל נחלתו (יעקב דייקא - י.ג.) וע"כ כשעושין רצונו הם למעלה מכל האומות ושריהם, כמ"ש "הבט נא השמימה" שדרשו שהוציא את אברהם החוצה למעלה מכל צבא השמים דאין הבטה אלא ממעלה למטה..." ע"כ. ויש להוסיף שהקב"ה אמר שם לאברהם "כא יהיה זרעך" ונראה דכוונתו ית' ליעקב, דביעקב אנו רואים קיום הבטחה זו שהוא למעלה מכל צבא השמים, כנ"ל. ואולי י"ל דהיינו מש"כ בחלום הסולם, "והנה ה' נצב עליו", ה' דוקא, אמנם הסולם ומלאכי אלוהים אינם עליו, שהוציאו למעלה מכל צבא השמים

[Continue the Trail here.]

Thanksgiving and the Heresy of Entitlement III

2010-11-23T10:50:00.000-08:00

[You can read this post on its own, or for the full effect begin the series here.]

Yaakov is praying for his life. "Please save me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Eisav!" But first he says this: קטנתי מכל החסדים - "I have been diminished by all of the kindnesses... for I crossed this Jordon River with my staff and now I have become two camps!" (32:11). Why is Yaakov saying this here? What does Yaakov's success have to do with Eisav's immanent attack?

Rashi explains as follows: Yaakov was afraid that God's many blessings, blessings which transformed him from a destitute refugee into a successful rancher with a large family, had used up - "diminished" - his chips, and he now lacked sufficient merit to protect him from Eisav.

There is an obvious problem with this reading. If Hashem's blessings were indeed reward for Yaakov's mitzvos, then why does Yaakov call them kindnesses?! A kindness, by definition, is unearned and would use up no chips at all.

There can be only one answer to this question. In his humility, Yaakov never assumed Hashem had given him free gifts; all that he received must have come as reward for his mitzvos. (Itself a most humble thought, for tzaddikim receive no reward for their mitzvos in this world. Cf. Kiddushin 39b; Rashi ad loc.) Nonetheless, Yaakov viewed reward itself to be a divine kindness!

God owes us nothing at all. Ever. Even when He is rewarding us for our good deeds, it's still just a חסד.

ונראה להוסיף דאמירת "קטנתי מכל החסדים" קודם לתפילת "הצלני נא..." היתה בזה קיום של סמיכת גאולה לתפילה. יעיין תר"י ברכות דף ב ע"ב בדפי הרי"ף. ודו"ק

What Was Yitzchok Thinking?!

2010-11-03T14:18:00.000-07:00

Last year I put up three posts on Yitzchok's decision to divide up the blessings between Yaakov and Eisav. The first explains it in light of the twin's different personalities, the second in light of the dangers of wealth and the third in light of the fundamental difference between the land of Israel and the rest of the planet. I've polished them up a bit; read them by clicking here.

Did Yaakov even want those blessings his mother commanded him to steal? I think not. See this post.

Curb Your Enthusiasm?

2010-10-31T14:02:00.000-07:00

In Parshas Chayei Sara we have, to all appearances, a classic example of "Hashgacha Pratis," divine providence. Upon arrival in Charan, Eliezer asks God for a sign: He will ask a girl for a drink, and if she offers water to both him and his camels that will be proof positive that she is destined to be the wife of Yitzchok. And then, "even before he finished speaking, and behold! Rivka was coming out..." (24:15).

But yet, things are not as biblical as they seem. Just a few verses earlier the Torah informs us that Eliezer arrived at the well "in the evening, at the time when women go out to draw water" (24:11). Now, had the Author consulted with the good editors at Artscroll, He surely would have left that line out. It kills the story dead! Here we are, trying to tell an inspirational story, the key element of which is the extraordinary timing of Rivka's appearance. Did we really have to mention that Rivka was coming out anyway because it was water drawing time?!

But this is the way of Hashgacha - it is never as extraordinary as people would have it, but that makes it more amazing, not less. Yes, it is true that Rivka was coming out anyway - she always went out to the well at that time of day - but was it just a coincidence that Eliezer happened to arrive at that spot at precisely that moment?

In other words, Hashem orchestrated this encounter before Eliezer prayed for it! By telling us that Eliezer arrived in Charan "at the time when women go out to draw water," the Torah is identifying an event of unilateral Hashgacha. Although it certainly appears as if the timing of Rivka's walk to the well was a divine response to Eliezer's request, his prayer actually had nothing to do with it at all. (Indeed, the Talmud says it was wrong of Eliezer to be looking for signs from Heaven, cf. Taanis 4a.) This is what the Torah means when it says, "...even before he finished speaking, and behold! Rivka was coming out." The meeting was preordained and Eliezer's request was irrelevant. Eliezer could have - and should have - left it to Hashem to guide him to the right girl, just as Avraham promised back in Chevron (cf. 24:7).

The source of Eliezer's problem can be found in his misunderstanding of his master's words. When Eliezer questioned the wisdom of his mission, Avraham tells him that Hashem would send an "angel ahead of him" that would see to his finding the right wife for Yitzchok (24:7). Indeed, the extraordinary timing of Eliezer's arrival was divinely orchestrated. The Midrash says that Eliezer arrived in Charan the same day as his departure from Israel, a distance of approximately a four hundred miles, by way of a miraculous k'fitzas haderech, "jumping the road" (cf. Rashi 24:42). This wormhole was undoubtedly built by the angel referred to by Avraham, and it was designed to bring Eliezer to the well in Charan at the exact moment that Rivka was walking towards it. As Avraham said, the angel was a step ahead of Eliezer making all the necessary preparations. But Eliezer didn't understand this. He thought his discovery of Rivka was due to his prayer, and when he tells the story to her parents he quotes Avraham as saying that Hashem will send an "angel with him" (24:40), not "ahead of him" as Avraham had actually said.

Yes, we must pray for all our needs. And yes, Hashgacha Pratis is happening all around us, all the time. But maybe it's a little presumptuous to think we can always get an accurate read on how God is running His world.

Naive & Proud of it!

2010-10-31T13:16:00.000-07:00

Avraham's attempt to save Sodom is noble, inspiring, and sad. Sad not only because he fails, but because he is so far out of touch with reality. Avraham honestly thought there were at least fifty Tzadikim living in Sodom! The greatest outreach professional of all time has no understanding of the reality of the world in which he lives! In short, Avraham is embarrassingly naive - and Hashem loves him for it.

Hashem loves Avraham's naivete, Avraham's innocence, Avraham's instinctive assumption that people are good. Hashem knows how Avraham thinks - כי ידעתיו - and He wants to draw it out of him for all the world to see and emulate. "A person must ask, 'When will my behavior be like the behavior of my forefathers, Avraham, Yitzchok and Yaakov?'" (Tana D'Bei Eliyahu 24). We must strive for naivete.

Avraham has blind faith not only in God, but in man as well. And this is no coincidence.

The man who discovered Hashem by way of the Divine characteristic of Kindness is obviously going to have trouble seeing evil in the humans created in the divine image. This is not a handicap in his outreach work; on the contrary, Avraham's boundless faith in man makes him all the more beloved, inspirational and influential. And this belief in the inherent goodness of the world is what fortifies Avraham with the innocence required to fulfill his ultimate mission - not outreach, but the building of his own eternal family: כי ידעתיו למען אשר יצוה את בניו ואת ביתו אחריו ושמרו דרך השם לעשות צדקה ומשפט.

Naivete may have helped Avraham HaIvri in other ways in his struggle against a corrupt world. In his memoir, Natan Sharansky describes how it helped him:

In retrospect, as I look back on my first days in Lefortovo I am shocked at my own naivete about Soviet justice. On the other hand, perhaps naivete is an essential component for the person who rejects the spiritual slavery of his society and struggles against a powerful regime. Perhaps it guarentees that you won't be frightened to death or paralyzed by fear. Naivete helps draw you into the struggle, where you're able to meet the growing danger head-on, with a firmer resolve.
Fear No Evil, pg. 22

Naivete clearly has its merits, but let us not be naive. It can also be quite dangerous. Back in Parshas Lech Lecha, Avraham battled four kings and won, conquering a broad swath of the country - including the territory of Sodom. In a surprising move, instead of coronating himself as the new King of Israel, Avraham reinstates the evil Bera, the defeated King of Sodom (cf. 14:21-24). According to the Talmud, this was a grave error:

Why was Avraham punished with having his descendants enslaved in Egypt for 210 years? R. Yochanan said, because he prevented people from entering under the wings of the Shechina, [for the King of Sodom said to Avraham], "Give me the people and take the booty for yourself..." (14:21).
Nedarim 32

Had Avraham understood how bad things were in Sodom would he have acted differently? Probably. But then he wouldn't be Avraham - and Hashem loves Avraham.

We do not laugh at Avraham's mistake. No, it is not sad; it is humbling. Even in the evil society of Sodom, there must be fifty Tzadikim. Even if there aren't.

There Once Was An Elul

2010-08-17T12:39:00.000-07:00

MP3 recording of shiur delivered at Selwyn's office on what Elul was, isn't, and might be. Click to download:

There Once Was An Elul

Tisha B'Av audio

2010-06-29T11:35:00.000-07:00

Firstly, an overdue thank you to Mordechai Dixler, who created Ekiruv and Torah Media which graciously hosts these MP3 files. Yasher Koach!

The link below is an audio shiur delivered last year in Selwyn's office on the 2nd of Av 5769. It is an attempt to view the destruction of Jerusalem from God's perspective.

Of Man, Temple & Divine Desire

(The shiur is based on an article published in the JSN's Focus journal in 2006. It can be downloaded here. Find it on page 40.)

Below is a link to this year's Rosh Chodesh Av shiur at Selwyn's office. While warning against the trend of turning Tisha B'Av into Yom Kippur, it explains why Tisha B'Av is a prerequisite for meaningful Teshuva on the High Holidays.

Tisha B'Av: Mourning, Meaning & Misconceptions

Ground Calf, Burned Cow & Cooked Intelligence

2010-06-17T11:28:00.000-07:00

An audio shiur on the Egel, the Meragilm, the Parah Adumah, the 17th of Taamuz, the 9th of Av, Emunah & Bitachon. What more could you ask for?

Recorded live this Tuesday at Selwyn's office. Click here to download MP3.

Korach: What Went Wrong

2010-06-09T12:39:00.000-07:00

An audio shiur for your listening pleasure, recorded in 2009 at Selwyn's office. Click here to download the MP3:

Parshas Korach

Through the Looking Glass

2010-04-16T09:20:00.000-07:00

Among the many mysteries of Tzaraas, the involvement of the Kohen stands out.

While no one can claim to really understand what Tumah is, the Torah always treats it as an objective reality: you catch it and you are Tamei. There is no need for a psak Beis Din or the pronouncements of a Kohen. But Tzaraas is different. Even if you are diagnosed with Tzaraas, even if your symptoms match the Torah's descriptions to a tee, you are only Tamei if and when a Kohen declares you so - and then you are Tamei from that point forward. The Kohen is not informing us of the existence of Tumah; he is literally creating the Tumah by his say so. Beyond a biblical anomaly, it is difficult to understand how Tumah could be dependent on a verbal proclamation. Simply put: Either you got it or you don't. Who needs the Kohen?

Another question: A person guilty of a crime of "Kareis" is spiritually disconnected from the nation, but he is still a fully functioning member of the community. However, a person with Tzaraas who is declared Tamei by a Kohen must leave the community and "live alone - outside the camp is his dwelling place" (Vayikra 14:36). There is no parallel to this law in all of Torah.

One more mystery, far more basic: Why, among all the hundreds of Biblical prohibitions, does a violation of Lashon HaRa cause our skin to break out? A Jew can commit crimes far worse than Lashon HaRa without any visible allergic reaction. (Tzaraas is only found in the Torah as the result of Lashon HaRa, cf. Shemos 4:1,6; Bamidbar 12:1-10. However, there are a few other sins that can cause Tzaraas, cf. Arachin 16a.)

Concerning anyone who tells Lashon HaRa, God says, "He and I cannot coexist in the world." (Arachin 16b)

Cannot coexist with God? Well then, if he isn't in the same world as God, where exactly is he?! There is only one possible answer. A person who speaks Lashon HaRa enters different world; a world of his own creation. A world without God.

In God's world, God is Judge. He judged it daily as He created it and his judgment was consistently positive: "And God saw that it was good..." It could be no other way. If God is good then His creation is good.

Even Man, a being clearly capable of great evil, can be judged only by God. The factors of human behavior are so complex, the plethora of genetics and hormones, upbringing and conditioning, innate drives and ways of thinking are so diverse, to be judgemental is not merely presumptuous, it infringes on the divine.

This accounting [of a person's spiritual status] depends not on the number of merits and sins but on their size. There are merits which outweigh several sins... and sins that outweigh several merits... This accounting can only be done by the mind of the God Who Knows. He is the one who knows how to measure merits against sins. (Rambam, Laws of Teshuva 3:2)

One guilty of Lashon HaRa, character assassination, is guilty of more than a crime. Seeing evil where God sees good, he debates God on the nature of His creation. And declaring his fellow man unholy, he usurpes God's role as judge, taking it upon himself to judge his fellow man. To speak Lashon HaRa is thus to deny God. Indeed, the Talmud compares one who speaks Lashon HaRa to a Kofer B'Ikar, a heretic (Arachin 16b).

The nature of this person's heresy is such that it places him entirely outside of the community. He has stepped out of the world where God is judge, creating an alternate reality where man is judge. And he is doomed to live in the hell of his own creation.

In God's world, good, evil, purity and impurity are objective truths. Man's opinion on these matters is obviously irrelevant. Step through the looking glass into a world of negative, mirror images, and spiritual reality is defined by human subjectivity. In the world of Lashon HaRa, a person's purity or impurity, his very spiritual state, is determined not by God but by the Kohen - a fallible religious leader! A nightmarish universe indeed!

In God's world, man's spiritual state is a private affair, knowable to God alone. But in the world of Lashon HaRa, man is judge, and man can only judge what he sees. The residents of this world must therefore have their rotten inner selves turned inside-out, and their ugly spiritual state becomes visible to all as Tzaraas.

It is no coincidence that Tzaraas also appears on the gossiper's clothing and home, ultimately leading to their destruction. This person judged others based on those very externals, creating a world where self-worth is defined by appearances. In the fascist world of fashion, styles change fast - and the critic is quickly devoured by the black hole of his own making.

Of course, a world devoid of God cannot exist in the normal sense. The Tzaraas world is a thus a twilight zone of the living dead. Indeed, the Torah considers one infected with Tzaraas to be a dead man (cf. Bamidbar 12:12; Nedarim 64b). Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi's observation should not shock us: Tzaraas is actually decomposing flesh.

One who speaks Lashon HaRa abandons God, leaves the community, and creates an ugly, alternate universe. Is atonement possible?

The academy of Rebbi Yishmael taught, "For which [sin] does the [burning of] Ketores [in the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur] atone? For Lashon HaRa. Let something private come and atone for something private." (Yoma 44a)

To rectify the departure inherent in Lashon HaRa, the nation's representative, the Kohen Gadol, must enter God's inner sanctum. And there he deodorizes the rot of Loshan HaRa by perfuming God's beautiful world.

And God saw everything that He made, and behold, it was very good... (Bereishis 1:31)
Who is the man who desires life? Lover of days to see good? Guard your tongue from evil... (Psalms 34:13-14)

Who... desires life... to see good! Seeing good is God's perspective. The perspective of life. If you want to be a part of the world of the living, then guard your tongue... Otherwise, you're out through the looking glass.

I, for one, prefer God's world.

Shiurim on the Haggadah

2010-03-17T12:24:00.000-07:00

Two classes on the Haggadah for your listening pleasure, both delivered at Gerber & Co. in Century City, Los Angeles.

"Maggid: Four More Questions" (2009)

"Break the Matzah; Reveal the Jew" (2010)

Purim is Always Tomorrow (recorded live at Gerber & Co.)

2010-02-23T10:46:00.000-08:00

Click here to download a shiur about Megillas Esther & Amalek entitled "Purim is Tomorrow" and here for a shiur about drinking on Purim entitled "Drowning Amalek in a Bottle: Ad D'lo Yada and the Sobering Problem of Evil." Both shiurim were delivered at Gerber & Co in Century City, Los Angeles. (The first last year and the second this year.)

Special thanks to Selwyn Gerber for being the host par excellence and all the good Jews who attended.

Both shiurim are based on my blog posts about Purim; those posts and more on Purim can be found by clicking the "Purim" label below.

Happy Purim!

Don't drink & daven!

On the Trail of Blessings: Spoiling the Spoils of Esther's War

2010-02-17T20:41:00.000-08:00

[Although this is technically the ninth installment of a series on the development of the Birchas HaAvos, it stands on its own as a piece about Megillas Esther. But don't let me stop you if you wish to begin the Trail from the beginning.]

At the end of Megillas Esther, the Jews behave strangely.

After Esther has Haman killed, she convinces Achashveirosh to issue a new decree, allowing the Jews to kill their enemies. Nothing strange about that. [Simply revoking the original decree wasn't an option, for "something written in the name of the king and sealed with the king's signet ring cannot be revoked" (8:8).] In this new decree, the Jews are given license to annihilate their enemies and take spoils (8:11). The Jews take full advantage of their license to kill, but for some reason they take no spoils (9:10). Now, that's strange! If you're going through the trouble of killing your enemies, why not take their money?

In his commentary to Parshas Beshalach (Shemos 17:16), Rabbeinu Bechaye (d. 1340) explains this in line with the Targum which states that all those killed were Amalekites. It is forbidden to take pleasure in the spoils of Amalek, writes Rabbeinu Bechaye, and Mordechai remembered well King Saul's terrible mistake of taking spoils after his battle with Amalek centuries earlier. This, says R. Bechaye, is why the Jews didn't take the money.

There are three problems with this approach. Firstly, if their enemies were indeed Amalekites and Jews truly wished to observe the mitzvah of annihilating them, that would require the destruction of the spoils, not just abstaining from taking them, as the Torah states, "erase the memory of Amalek" (Devarim 25:19; cf. Rashi ad loc.). Secondly, according to R. Bechaye, how could Esther take Haman's house (Esther 8:1)? And thirdly, even if this explains why the Jews didn't take spoils, it makes it far more difficult to understand why Mordechai and Esther had the right to take spoils included in the orginal royal decree. (For an altogether different approach which lacks these problems, see R. Dovid Tavil, Drashos Beis Dovid 11.)

I believe the answer to Rabbeinu Bechaye's question can be found in Parshas Bo. When the Jews were just about to leave Egypt, Hashem made the following request of Moshe: "Please (נא) speak in the ears of the nation: they should borrow - each man from his [Egyptian] friend and each woman from her [Egyptian] friend - silver vessels and gold vessels" (Shemos 11:2). Although it is certainly a Jewish value to be polite, nonetheless, it is unusual for God to say "please." The Talmud explains. "The academy of Rabbi Yannai said, the word "נא" always connotes a request. Hashem said to Moshe, go say to the Jews, please borrow silver and gold vessels from the Egyptians so that Tzaddik [Avraham] won't complain [and say to Me]: "They shall enslave them and afflict them" (Bereishis 15:13) You fulfilled for them, but "afterwards they shall go out with great wealth" (ad loc.) You did not fulfill for them?!" (Berachos 9b).

No one demonstrated better than our father Avraham how a Jew can simultaneously be fabulously wealthy and lead the battle against paganism. Avraham understood the blessing of wealth to be integral to the mission of the Jew and he did not want to see the nation sidestep their destiny. So when they left Egypt, Hashem begged the Jews to take the money so that Avraham wouldn't complain.

The problem here is obvious. Since when do Jews need convincing to take money? Moreover, if Hashem promised that the Jews would leave Eygpt with wealth, then it should be the divine promise that drives this request, not the fear of Avraham's complaint!

Strange as it sounds, it seems that Moshe (and, presumably, the Jews) didn't want the gold of Egypt. Even Hashem's promise did not suffice, for a promise of wealth can always be pardoned by the recipient. It was only Hashem's "please," driven by "fear" of Avraham's complaint, that convinced Moshe to pass on the message.

Why doesn't Moshe want the gold? Well, we know what Moshe thinks: "Master of the World, it's because of the gold and silver that you gave the Jews until they said 'enough!' - that's what caused them to build a Golden Calf!" (Berachos 32a). As we have seen before, money is a leading cause of paganism. This is why Hashem had to beg Moshe to take the money. [The fact that this teaching was also taught by the academy of Rabbi Yannai, and its significance in understanding the reason why Hashem had to say "נא" was pointed out by R. Reuven Margolias (נצוצי אור, ברכות).]

The story of Megillas Esther occurs at the end of Galus Bavel, just a few years before the Second Temple is built. Just like at the Exodus, the anti-Semites are vanquished and the Jews are given the opportunity to take the wealth of their oppressors with them as they return to Israel. In the spirit of Hashem's promise to Avraham, "afterwards they shall go out with great wealth," Mordechai and Esther have the right to take spoils written into Achashveirosh's new decree. But the Jews don't take any spoils - history has taught them a thing or two.

The Jews know that the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash and Haman's decree were both divine reactions to the sin of idolatry. They did not want to fall into that again. Last time, they acquiesced to Hashem's request. They took the Egyptian gold and silver and it led to the sin of the Golden Calf. This time they were more than happy to pardon Hashem's generous blessings.

The Jews return to Israel impoverished, barely able to cover the costs of constructing the Second Temple. The even had to settle with a wooden Menorah! But idolatry qua idolatry was not an issue in the Second Temple era. (The allure of Hellenism was more social than theological.) Unlike the First Temple, the second was destroyed not for idolatry but for baseless hatred - and with its unique set of mitzvos, Purim fixes that as well.

On the Trail of Blessings: Yaakov Comes Full-Circle

2010-02-11T11:36:00.000-08:00

[This is the final instalment (for now, at least) of a series on the development of the Birchas HaAvos in Sefer Bereishis. Begin the Trail here. It has been an exciting venture. Originally envisioned as a three-part series, the trail mushroomed to eight as more and more pieces fell into place - all of it leading up to this final post. Special thanks to Alain Kuppermann for encouraging me to put it all in writing.]

At the end of the book, Yaakov is at the end of his life; the time has come to bless the children. Yaakov spreads out the family destiny among all twelve of his sons; forging them in the process into one united "Bnei Yisroel." But before he does that, Yosef visits him first. What transpires is a meeting of historic consequence:

ויגד ליעקב ויאמר הנה בנך יוסף בא אליך ויתחזק ישראל וישב על המטה
ויאמר יעקב אל יוסף אל שדי נראה אלי בלוז בארץ כנען ויברך אתי
ויאמר אלי הנני מפרך והרביתך ונתתיך לקהל עמים ונתתי את הארץ הזאת לזרעך אחריך אחזת עולם
When Yaakov was told that Yosef was coming to him, Yisroel summoned his strength and sat up in bed. Yaakov said to Yosef, "אל שדי appeared to me in Luz, in the Land of Canaan. He blessed me and said to me, 'I will make you fruitful and numerous, and have you give rise to an assembly of nations. I will give this land to you and your descendants as their property forever.'"

By now, we recognize this blessing of אל שדי. This is the spiritual blessing that Hashem gave to Avraham at the end of Lech Lecha, Yitzchok reserved for Yaakov at the end of Toldos, and Hashem Himself gave to Yaakov in Vayishlach. This is the meaning of the Beracha that Yaakov gives to Menashe and Ephraim, the two sons of Yosef:

ויברך את יוסף ויאמר האלהים אשר התהלכו אבתי לפניו אברהם ויצחק האלהים הרעה אתי מעודי עד היום הזה
המלאך הגאל אתי מכל רע יברך את הנערים ויקרא בהם שמי ושם אבתי אברהם ויצחק וידגו לרב בקרב הארץ

רש"י: וידגו - כדגים הללו שפרים ורבים

פרו ורבו, "be fruitful and multiply," is a signature element of the original Beracha of אל שדי! Yaakov is passing on the Beracha of פרו ורבו to the sons of Yosef, thereby pronouncing them inheritors of the Beracha of אל שדי.

Later, when Yaakov gathers all his sons around him for their blessings, he again directs the Beracha of אל שדי in Yosef's direction:

מאל אביך ויעזרך ואת שדי ויברכך

What is amazing is that Yaakov chooses to share this particular blessing with Yosef. For, as we are well aware, there is another blessing in the family.

The Beracha that Hashem gave Avraham at the beginning of Lech Lecha, the Beracha that Yitzchok reserved for Eisav, the Beracha of material bounty and physical power - this Beracha too is held by Yaakov; under orders from his mother, he stole it from his brother. Why does Yaakov make no mention of this Beracha? Wouldn't this Beracha be more appropriate for Yosef? Does Yaakov not see that in Yosef the blessing of abundant grain and bowing brothers and nations is being fulfilled? Is it not obvious that Eisav's Beracha is Yosef's destiny? Why doesn't Yaakov strengthen Yosef's role as the supporter of the nascent Jewish people?

There can be only one answer: Yaakov sees the way things are developing, and he doesn't like it. Grabbing destiny by the horns, he steers it in a different direction.

Once upon a time, Yaakov agreed with Yitzchok's vision of a national partnership between a "Yaakov" and an "Eisav," and he struggled against his mother's plan of unifying the blessings. But in his old age, Yaakov has come to see the wisdom of Rivkah. He doesn't want Yosef to be an idealized Eisav. He wants Yosef to be another Yaakov: a man who has it all. Consciously ignoring the facts on the ground, Yaakov directs the blessing of אל שדי to Yosef.

Yaakov knows exactly what he's doing. Listen to what he says to Yosef:

ברכת אביך גברו על ברכת הורי

The blessing of your father will override the blessing of my parents.

What does this mean? Note that Yaakov does not say that his blessing overrides his father's blessing, he says that it overrides his parent's blessing. Yaakov is talking about the Beracha he stole from Eisav! It came from Yitzchok, but Yaakov only got it because of Rivkah - ברכת הורי indeed! (See Rashi ad loc. who interprets the word הורי as referring specifically to a mother.) Yaakov is telling Yosef that his blessing overrides the Beracha of Eisav. Yaakov doesn't want Yosef to be Eisav 2.0; he wants Yosef to receive the Beracha of אל שדי!

This gives us a new appreciation for Yaakov's strange statement at the beginning of the Parsha:

ועתה שני בניך הנולדים לך בארץ מצרים עד באי אליך מצרימה לי הם אפרים ומנשה כראובן ושמעון יהיו לי

Yaakov is telling Yosef, 'I don't want your children to be any different than Reuven or Shimon! The entire family shall share in all the Berachos equally!'

The Midrash tells us that Yosef's two sons led different lives. Menashe, the older brother, served as his father's secretary in the government (Rashi 42:23), while Ephraim learned Torah with his zeide Yaakov (Rashi to 48:1). When he blesses them, Yaakov famously switches his hands, directing the greater Beracha emanating from his right hand onto the head of the younger Ephraim. Yaakov explains that although both will be great, Ephraim will be the greater of the two (48:19), but in light of Yaakov's underlying agenda we can better appreciate what he is doing here.

Following in his father's footsteps, Menashe is primed to inherit Yosef's position. The natural thing for Yaakov to do would be to grant the Beracha of power, wealth and the role of supporting Klal Yisroel to Menashe. But Yaakov does the exact opposite. He gives Yosef's sons the Beracha of אל שדי, and elevates Ephraim, the יושב אהלים, over his older brother, the איש שדה! Strange as it is, we recognize this behavior. Yaakov is doing to Yosef's sons the exact same thing he did to Yosef himself - raising the spiritual over the physical and smothering the emerging Eisav in the Beracha of אל שדי.

[We're going to hold it here for now. Not that the trail's gone cold (compare 48:8, 49:25 and Devarim 33:13 to Bereishis 27:28-29; cf. Rashi to Devarim 33:28 & Rashi to Shemos 6:4), but we're halfway through Sefer Shemos and it is time to move on. There's always next time around, be"H & bl"n.]

I guess not. I had a thought on Megillah Esther that flowed directly out of the ideas developed in this series. That would make it part-nine.

On the Trail of Blessings: Yitzchok's Wisdom, the Land of Israel & the New Yaakov

2010-02-03T12:25:00.000-08:00

[This is the fourth installment in the series. Begin the Trail here.]

As we have seen, it was Eisav's job to subjugate all the forces of the physical world - both the inner negative drives and the outer pagan belief systems - to the One God. Surprisingly, the place for this important work is not in Israel. For when Hashem created the world, he placed each land and each nation under the influence of an angel through which he guides and directs their affairs. But not so Israel. Israel - both the land and its people - have no intermediary between them and God. They relate directly to God Himself (cf. Ramban, Vayikra 18:25). "Outside the Land of Israel, although it belongs to God, yet its purity is not perfect, because of "the servants" who hold sway there, and the nations go astray after their princes to worship them as well" (Ramban ad loc., trans. Chavel).

This explains why, when Hashem wants to debunk Paganism - He does it not in Israel, but through the Ten Plagues in Egypt. For in Israel there is nothing other than the One God.

This is also explains why Yitzchok refused to give Eisav the Land of Israel. Eisav's mission to subjugate the "gods" can only be done where the gods hold sway, i.e., outside the Holy Land.

Malbim compares Yitzchok's vision of Yaakov and Eisav to the relationship between Levi and the rest of the tribes, but the Yesachar/Zevulun relationship seems a better match. Zevulun leaves Israel to do business abroad, "Zevulun will settle the seashore, he shall be a harbor for ships..." (49:13), in support of his brother Yesachar (Rashi ad loc). "Rejoice Zevulun in your excursions and Yesachar in your tents" (Devarim 33:18). Like Eisav - the איש שדה - Zevulun is not bound to Israel, and like Yaakov - the יושב אהלים - Yesachar is in his tent.

Although Avraham was never supposed to leave Israel (cf. Ramban to 12:10), Hashem does let him go. This is because Avraham received the first Beracha of Lech Lecha, the blessings of materialism, as an independent Beracha before he came to Israel. Avraham can therefore exist outside of Israel and, interestingly enough, it is there that this Beracha is fulfilled - Pharaoh enriches him. (This explains Avraham's acceptance of Pharaoh's gifts outside of Israel verses his rejection of the gifts of the king of Sodom inside of Israel.) Unlike his father, Yitzchok was born into both Berachos as a unified package; this is why Hashem does not allow him to leave Israel at all (26:2). But when Yitzchok breaks the Berachos in two, he creates a New Jew - an "Eisav" who is not tied to Israel and whose destiny is on the international stage: "יעבדוך עמים וישתחו לך לאמים".

This resolves a difficult point in our story: Why does Yitzchok tell Yaakov to leave Israel? The need to find a wife is no excuse - Avraham sent Eliezer to find a wife for Yitzchok; Yitzchok could have easily done the same for Yaakov. If Avraham's sole departure from Israel to escape a famine was criticized by the Ramban and if Hashem (and, earlier, Avraham) explicitly forbade Yitzchok from leaving, then how could Yitzchok, unaware of Eisav's murderous intent, instruct Yaakov to leave?

In light of the above, the answer is obvious. Yitzchok designed a Beracha for Eisav which described his vision for his firstborn son: an international Jew whose mission lies outside the Land of Israel. When Yaakov steals these Berachos, he is not merely stealing blessings - he is stealing a mandate. And so, immediately afterwords, Yitzchok commands Yaakov to leave Israel and fulfill Eisav's role abroad, just as Yaakov's son Zevulun will do in the future.

Yitzchok immediately understood the consequences of Yaakov's theft. He tells Eisav, והיה כאשר תריד ופרקת עולו מעל צוארך - "When he [Yaakov] falls, then you can cast off his yoke" [cf. Rashi] (27:40). Why should Eisav's submission before Yaakov be conditional on Yaakov's success? The answer is that Yitzchok is not referring here to Yaakov's traditional role as the יושב אהלים; Yitzchok is referring to Yaakov's new role as the איש שדה, the role he just usurped from Eisav. Yitzchok is telling Eisav, "Your brother has taken over your role as the גביר and you are therefore now subservient to him, but whenever he fails in that role, if he fails to do your job right, then there will no longer be any reason for you to be under his yoke." (כן העיר ר' צבי יונגר)

This explanation enables us to understand the prophecy Rivka received when she was pregnant with her two sons: ולאם מלאם יאמץ - "Each nation will get its strength from the other." Rashi explains, "when one rises the other falls... Tyre was not filled but from the ruin of Jerusalem" (cf. Megillah 6a). Another example of this phenomenon appears at the end of Parshas Vayishlach where the Torah lists eight Edomite kings which descended from Eisav. Rashi cites a Midrash, "Correspondingly, [eight kings] also came from Yaakov and the kingdom of Edom ceased to exist during that period..." (Rashi to 36:31).

History shows that Yaakov and Eisav cannot succeed simultaneously, but there is more here than a mere seesaw.

If "when one rises the other falls" is the sole point, then the original prophecy would have limited itself to those words. Instead, the prophecy states, "Each nation will get its strength from the other." This foretells Yaakov's "theft" of Eisav's destiny and explains their symbiotic relationship. When Yaakov successfully blends his new-found worldly power and Kingship with his original destiny of sitting in the tents of Torah then Eisav loses his raison d'être and his very existence as a nation begins to fade. But if and when Yaakov fails, then Eisav shall rise again.

This idea was foreshadowed by the very birth of the the two twin brothers. Eisav came out first, immediately followed by Yaakov "his hand grasping the heal of Eisav" (25:26). As the Alshich asks, why is Yaakov named for this seemingly meaningless event? (See Abarbanel, cited by Malbim.) In light of the above, the meaning is clear. Yaakov's grasping Eisav's heal illustrates not only the fact that Eisav will fall when Yaakov rises, but also tells us why: Yaakov is destined (doomed?) to seize his elder brother's very mission of power and destiny as the firstborn. Just as the prophecy foretold: ולאם מלאם יאמץ - Yaakov will get his strength from Eisav.

Eisav failed to live up to his destiny and Yaakov takes all. With both blessings securely in his pocket, Yaakov heads out of Israel for Charan - leaving his brother behind. But in this, their third generation, the Berachos of Avraham have evolved. En route, Yaakov receives this prophecy:

וְהִנֵּה יְהוָה נִצָּב עָלָיו וַיֹּאמַר אֲנִי יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵי אַבְרָהָם אָבִיךָ, וֵאלֹהֵי יִצְחָק הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַתָּה שֹׁכֵב עָלֶיהָ לְךָ אֶתְּנֶנָּה וּלְזַרְעֶךָ. וְהָיָה זַרְעֲךָ כַּעֲפַר הָאָרֶץ וּפָרַצְתָּ יָמָּה וָקֵדְמָה וְצָפֹנָה וָנֶגְבָּה וְנִבְרְכוּ בְךָ כָּל מִשְׁפְּחֹת הָאֲדָמָה וּבְזַרְעֶךָ. וְהִנֵּה אָנֹכִי עִמָּךְ וּשְׁמַרְתִּיךָ בְּכֹל אֲשֶׁר תֵּלֵךְ וַהֲשִׁבֹתִיךָ אֶל הָאֲדָמָה הַזֹּאת. כִּי לֹא אֶעֱזָבְךָ עַד אֲשֶׁר אִם עָשִׂיתִי אֵת אֲשֶׁר דִּבַּרְתִּי לָךְ

There is a new element here, a blessing that we have not seen before: ופרצת... Hashem is confirming what Yitzchok already understood: The Berachos fiasco was the only way compensate for Eisav's failure to live up to his destiny. A new Yaakov has been created - a hybrid of the יושב אהלים and the איש שדה. Spiritual Man is now vested with the mission of bringing the Beracha of Israel to the rest of the world! The ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה of Avraham - part of the physical blessing at the beginning of Lech Lecha - must now be realized by way of ופרצת - direct interaction with the nations, on their turf. This is what you get when you patch together the Avraham that Yitzchok divided in two. Yaakov leaves Israel, and in Charan he is fruitful and he multiplies - both physically and spiritually.

[Continue the Trail here.]

On the Trail of Blessings: Yitzchok's Wisdom & the Curse of Wealth

2010-01-26T11:54:00.000-08:00

[This is the third installment in the series. Begin the Trail here.]

The different natures of Yaakov and Eisav was not the only reason Yitzchok divided up the blessings. Yitzchok wanted to protect Yaakov from the corrupting force of power and wealth. In the words of the Seforno,

[Thinking he was talking to Eisav, Yitzchok said,] 'Be a lord to your brother' (27:29) - [Yitzchok] thought it would be best for Yaakov to make do with the inheritance of Israel and to live there with a degree of servitude [to his brother] so that he should not be overly preoccupied with physical things [i.e. the economy, business, politics, leadership, etc.] and passing vanities, as in fact occurred to his descendants [as a result of his 'stealing' this blessing], as the verse states, 'I abhor the pride of Yaakov' (Amos 6:8).

The Seforno's insight is undeniable. Take, for example, these verses:

יַרְכִּבֵהוּ עַל במותי אָרֶץ וַיֹּאכַל תְּנוּבֹת שָׂדָי
וַיֵּנִקֵהוּ דְבַשׁ מִסֶּלַע וְשֶׁמֶן מֵחַלְמִישׁ צוּר
חֶמְאַת בָּקָר וַחֲלֵב צֹאן עִם חֵלֶב כָּרִים וְאֵילִים
בְּנֵי בָשָׁן וְעַתּוּדִים עִם חֵלֶב כִּלְיוֹת חִטָּה
וְדַם עֵנָב תִּשְׁתֶּה חָמֶר
וַיִּשְׁמַן יְשֻׁרוּן וַיִּבְעָט
שָׁמַנְתָּ עָבִיתָ כָּשִׂיתָ וַיִּטֹּשׁ אֱלוֹהַּ עָשָׂהוּ
וַיְנַבֵּל צוּר יְשֻׁעָתוֹ

Wealth corrupts. But how exactly does this happen? How do material blessings lead to spiritual downfall? The Torah describes the process:

הִשָּׁמֶר לְךָ, פֶּן תִּשְׁכַּח אֶת יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, לְבִלְתִּי שְׁמֹר מִצְו‍ֹתָיו וּמִשְׁפָּטָיו וְחֻקֹּתָיו אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי מְצַוְּךָ הַיּוֹם פֶּן תֹּאכַל וְשָׂבָעְתָּ וּבָתִּים טֹבִים תִּבְנֶה וְיָשָׁבְתָּ וּבְקָרְךָ וְצֹאנְךָ יִרְבְּיֻן וְכֶסֶף וְזָהָב יִרְבֶּה לָּךְ וְכֹל אֲשֶׁר לְךָ יִרְבֶּה. וְרָם לְבָבֶךָ וְשָׁכַחְתָּ אֶת יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ הַמּוֹצִיאֲךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם מִבֵּית עֲבָדִים הַמּוֹלִיכְךָ בַּמִּדְבָּר הַגָּדֹל וְהַנּוֹרָא נָחָשׁ שָׂרָף וְעַקְרָב וְצִמָּאוֹן אֲשֶׁר אֵין מָיִם הַמּוֹצִיא לְךָ מַיִם מִצּוּר הַחַלָּמִישׁ. הַמַּאֲכִלְךָ מָן בַּמִּדְבָּר אֲשֶׁר לֹא יָדְעוּן אֲבֹתֶיךָ לְמַעַן עַנֹּתְךָ וּלְמַעַן נַסֹּתֶךָ לְהֵיטִבְךָ בְּאַחֲרִיתֶךָ. וְאָמַרְתָּ בִּלְבָבֶךָ כֹּחִי וְעֹצֶם יָדִי עָשָׂה לִי אֶת הַחַיִל הַזֶּה. וְזָכַרְתָּ אֶת יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ כִּי הוּא הַנֹּתֵן לְךָ כֹּחַ לַעֲשׂוֹת חָיִל לְמַעַן הָקִים אֶת בְּרִיתוֹ אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּע לַאֲבֹתֶיךָ כַּיּוֹם הַזֶּה

Paradoxically, the divine blessing of wealth can cause man to forget about God, leading him to think that he created all this wealth himself. But it does not end there. With God forgotten, man imagines other sources of power. This concern is stated in the Shema:

וְנָתַתִּי מְטַר אַרְצְכֶם בְּעִתּוֹ יוֹרֶה וּמַלְקוֹשׁ וְאָסַפְתָּ דְגָנֶךָ וְתִירֹשְׁךָ וְיִצְהָרֶךָ וְנָתַתִּי עֵשֶׂב בְּשָׂדְךָ לִבְהֶמְתֶּךָ וְאָכַלְתָּ וְשָׂבָעְתָּ הִשָּׁמְרוּ לָכֶם פֶּן יִפְתֶּה לְבַבְכֶם וְסַרְתֶּם וַעֲבַדְתֶּם אֱלֹהִים אֲחֵרִים וְהִשְׁתַּחֲוִיתֶם לָהֶם

Wealth can lead to Paganism! This is what Moshe said to Hashem, "Master of the World, it's because of the gold and silver that you gave the Jews until they said 'enough!' - that's what caused them to build a Golden Calf!" (Berachos 32a). This is why Yitzchok reserved the blessing of wealth for Eisav: Eisav was born to battle Paganism. It's a shame he didn't put up much of a fight.

There is another problem with wealth, a problem which poses a particular challenge to Yaakov:

וּבָאוּ עָלֶיךָ כָּל הַקְּלָלוֹת הָאֵלֶּה וּרְדָפוּךָ וְהִשִּׂיגוּךָ עַד הִשָּׁמְדָךְ כִּי לֹא שָׁמַעְתָּ בְּקוֹל יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ לִשְׁמֹר מִצְו‍ֹתָיו וְחֻקֹּתָיו אֲשֶׁר צִוָּךְ וְהָיוּ בְךָ לְאוֹת וּלְמוֹפֵת וּבְזַרְעֲךָ עַד עוֹלָם תַּחַת אֲשֶׁר לֹא עָבַדְתָּ אֶת יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ בְּשִׂמְחָה וּבְטוּב לֵבָב מֵרֹב כֹּל

Eisav's blessing is Yaakov's curse! The blessing that Yitzchok attempted to divert to Eisav, the blessing of "כל", the so-called blessing of "having it all," it is this blessing that destroys Yaakov - for it is Yaakov's mission to serve Hashem with joy, and having it all oftentimes saps all the joy out of life.

[Continue the Trail with part-four here.]

On the Trail of Blessings: Yitzchok's Wisdom, Eisav's Appetite & Yaakov's Mission

2010-01-01T12:48:00.000-08:00

[This is the second installment in the series. It can be read independently or, for maximum reading pleasure, begin the Trail here.]

Yitzchok was no fool. His desire to bless Eisav was not driven by blind love for his son but by a compelling vision for Israel: Yaakov would be master of spirituality and Eisav would be master of physicality.

Do not misunderstand - Yitzchok has only the highest regard for Eisav's spiritual potential. In Yitzchok's plan, Eisav has the awesome responsibility of sanctifying this world by harnessing it for the Creator's purposes. This is why Yitzchok tells Eisav to serve him a meal before he blesses him; it is Eisav's job to dedicate the physical in support of the Tzaddik - and it is only in this merit that he gets the Beracha.

Yitzchok wanted to bless Eisav in the spirit of his future calling...
The savage craft of hunting must be elevated and used for exalted humane purposes. For it seems that Eisav did not usually hunt in order to provide a nourishing meal for his aged, feeble father. He enjoyed hunting for its own sake, for the sight of the steaming blood of his prey...
Yitzchok therefore tells Eisav: "Please take your gear, hunt some game for me, and prepare a tasty dish for me" (27:4). You yourself, this time, use the tools of your trade to perform an act of kindness...
Rabbi S.R. Hirsch

This reconciles Yitzchok's blessing for Eisav with the prophecy that Rivkah received before the boys were born:

ויתרצצו הבנים בקרבה ותאמר אם כן למה זה אנכי ותלך לדרש את יקוק
ויאמר יקוק לה שני גיים גוים בבטנך ושני לאמים ממעיך יפרדו ולאם מלאם יאמץ ורב יעבד צעיר
...and the elder will serve the younger.

Assuming Yitzchok knew this, how could he attempt to bless Eisav (27:29) הֱוֵה גְבִיר לְאַחֶיךָ וְיִשְׁתַּחֲווּ לְךָ בְּנֵי אִמֶּךָ? In light of the above, there is no contradiction here. Yes, Yitzchok foretells that Eisav will be more powerful than his brother; he even says that Yaakov will bow to him. But the elder will still serve the younger, for this is Eisav's role - to support his younger brother, the Tzaddik. Yaakov bows before Eisav because Eisav is the גביר - the source of his support!

Since selfless giving is Eisav's mandate, he is uniquely challenged in this realm - "blessed" with impulsiveness, self-centeredness and the need for instant gratification (cf. Vilna Gaon on Rus; Reb Tzadok, cited in Ali Shor). He is a natural hunter, he trades his birthright for a bowl of soup and he is prepared to kill his brother in an act of vengeance. He was a rapist and a murderer (Baba Basra 16b). Most tellingly, Eisav strove towards paganism from the womb (Rashi to 25:22). Paganism is equated with hedonism - "The Jews knew that paganism had no substance; they only worshiped it in order to permit for themselves sexual immorality in public!" (Sanhedrin 63b) - but in Eisav's case it ran deeper than that. He was pursuing Paganism even before he was born!

A prenatal interest in sin would seem to contradict the Talmudic teaching that the evil inclination enters man only after birth (cf. Sanhedrin 91a), but Eisav is different. For Eisav, paganism and the unbridled hedonism that comes with it was no ordinary "Yetzer HaRa." Eisav's paganism was not ideological, nor was it "sinful" in the usual sense of the word, for man has no evil inclination before he is born. Rather, Eisav had a natural affinity for paganism (Gur Aryeh to 25:22). From conception he was designed to be attracted to the forces of nature. Eisav was conceived with this drive for Eisav's life mission is to subdue, transcend and channel his physicality, sanctifying it to the One God. If subjugating nature is your divinely mandated mission, God isn't going to make it easy.

Eisav failed. Instead of controlling his physicality, he becomes obsessed with self-indulgence in all things physical. In the end, his head is buried in the Machpela Cave, but his body is not (Sotah 13a) - his head was always in the right place; the problem was his body, the negative drives he could never get under control.

In contrast, Yaakov's primary mission addresses not his body, but his mind. Yaakov must elevate his mind in the tents of Torah, and God therefore challenges him not with an appetite for hedonism, but with ethical dilemmas, trauma and tragedy:

Can he "steal" the birthright and blessings from his older brother?
Should he honor his mother and delude his father?
Can he outwit his father-in-law Lavan?
How will he manage the faith crises of Dina's rape, Rachel's death and Yosef's disappearance?
According to the Rambam, Yaakov's struggle with the angel was fought on the battlefield of the mind, in a prophetic state.
Even Yaakov's assertion that he took Shechem with his "sword and bow" is an allegory for his prayers and supplications (cf. Targum and Rashi to 48:22).

For Yaakov the issue is not battling a Yetzer HaRa but exercising his Yetzer Tov; does his אמונה & בטחון and מדת האמת have the strength to withstand a life of aggravation? This is why Yaakov placed stones around his head when he slept (cf. 28:11). Yaakov wasn't worried about his body; if a problem were to arise it would only be a challenge to his head.

It is as Yitzchok said: "The voice is the voice of Yaakov, but the hands are the hands of Eisav" (27:22). Yaakov perfects the thought-world and Eisav perfects the corporeal world. If Eisav cooperates, that is.

[Continue the Trail with part-three here.]

On the Trail of Blessings: Eisav 2.0

2009-12-24T08:40:00.000-08:00

[This is the seventh instalment in the series. Begin the Trail here.]

Yosef has dreams. Strange dreams. Dreams no one ever had before. Yosef sees people bowing to him.

When he shares his dreams with his family, his father reacts strongly: "What is this dream that you dreamt? Will I, your mother and your brothers come and prostrate ourselves on the ground to you?!" (37:10). Yaakov is concerned, ואביו שמר את הדבר.

Yaakov had good reason to be concerned. Years back, Yitzchok had a beracha for Eisav, a beracha that Yaakov stole. And in that beracha Yitzchok said, "וישתחו לך לאמים... וישתחוו לך בני אמך", "Nations will bow to you... your mother's children will bow to you!"

Yitzchok had a vision for Eisav. Eisav was to be the man of the field, going out into the world in support the divine work of his spiritual brother in Israel. And his brother Yaakov would bow before him, appreciating and honoring Eisav's crucial role. In light of the reality of Eisav HaRasha, Rivka rejected her husband's plan and forced Yaakov to take all - but Yaakov didn't want it. He wished to remain an איש תם יושב אהלים. Yaakov agreed with Yitzchok: leave the material to Eisav. In direct contradistinction of the beracha, Yaakov insists on bowing repeatedly to Eisav instead of the other way around. True to his beliefs, Yaakov ultimately transfers all of the wealth he made in Charan to Eisav (cf. Rashi to 46:6).

The tragedy here is that Eisav's personal failure ruins Yaakov's life. As hard as he tries to flee from the material blessings that are now his burden, Yaakov never gets to live his dream, the life of an איש תם יושב אהלים. Just as Yaakov is settling into a peaceful retirement in his tent (Rashi to 37:2), Eisav's beracha, that beracha/curse that Yaakov never wanted, returns to haunt him. We can well imagine the terror that gripped Yaakov when he heard Yosef's dreams of power. Yosef is dreaming the dreams of Eisav! His beloved son is heir to his brother's destiny!

It is not just the bowing that evokes Yitzchok's Beracha for Eisav. In Yosef's dream he sees his brother's sheaves bowing to his sheaf. Grain? This is a family of shepherds, not farmers! But Yaakov surely recognized this as another materialization of the beracha which he stole. Yitzchok promised: "God shall grant you from the dew of heaven and the fat of the earth, much grain and wine..." (27:28). The fact that Yitzchok referred to grain and not sheep was an important point for Yaakov. When Yaakov returns to Israel from Charan, he sends a messages to Eisav in which he says, "I have oxen and donkeys" (32:6). Rashi quotes a Midrash which explains Yaakov's intent: "Father said to me 'from the dew of heaven and the fat of the earth,' these [animals] are neither from heaven nor from the earth!" In other words, in repudiation of the beracha he was forced to steal, Yaakov deliberately avoided farming, reserving that for Eisav the איש שדה. (Parallels with the Cain and Hevel story are beyond the scope of this essay.)

And now Yaakov's son Yosef is dreaming of grain! The beracha of Yitzchok is inescapable. If Yaakov won't accept it, then he shall be a carrier and it will manifest itself in the next generation. Yosef ascends to greatness outside the Land of Israel. As the master of grain, the world bows to him. And his brothers bow too, for he supports them. Yosef has become the Eisav that Yitzchok always dreamed of.

As we have seen, the physical blessings of Eisav come with a unique set of challenges - physical challenges. This is why, from a young age, Yosef must struggle against interest in his own appearance (e.g., combing his hair, Rashi to 37:2) and the seductions of Potifar's wife (cf. Sotah 36b). Like Eisav, Yosef must also deal with the lure of paganism (cf. Rashi to 39:11), for paganism gives license to hedonism, and hedonism is the antagonist of Yosef's spiritual mission of selflessness. When your spiritual mission is to elevate the physical, the Yeitzer Hara will use the physical to drag you down. It comes therefore as no surprise that some of the greatest idolaters of Jewish history - Yeravam, Achav and Yeihu - are descended from Yosef (cf. Rashi to 48:8). Of course, some of the greatest warriors against idolatry - Yehoshua, Gideon and Pinchas - are also descendants of Yosef (cf. Rashi to 48:19; Sotah 43a). Yosef is Eisav 2.0.

Yosef succeeds, for Yosef heroically subdues his inherent self-interest, outgrowing his נערות and focusing instead on the needs of others. It is fascinating that it is דוקא in חוץ לארץ that Yosef develops this מדה, first rejecting the advances of Potifar's wife, knowing that this will land him in prison, and then in prison, where he is sensitive to the fluctuating moods of his fellow inmates, asking the butler and the baker why they look upset (40:6-7). It comes as no surprise that it is this very sensitivity to the other that ultimately leads to Yosef's own redemption.

In Egypt, Yosef also lives up to the national mission that he inherited from his uncle. He won't sell the starving Egyptian people food unless they circumcise themselves - and Pharaoh backs up this strange demand! (Rashi to 41:55). The purpose is not convert them to Judaism; in no way does this circumcision constitute a Brit Milah. What Yosef is trying to do here is subdue the Egyptian affinity for promiscuity. For this is the Jewish responsibility that comes with the blessing of materialism in the Diaspora - to elevate the morality of the gentile.

The emergence of Yosef revives Yitzchok's vision for the nation and, at the same time, spells the end of the original Eisav. Usurped by Yosef, Eisav is obsolete. Indeed, it is as the prophet said: "The house of Yaakov shall be a fire, the House of Yosef shall be a flame, and the House of Eisav for straw" (Ovadiah 1:18). (Cf. Rashi to 30:25.)

[Continue the Trail with part 7 1/2 here.]

On the Trail of Blessings: אל שדי Returns!

2009-12-02T20:36:00.000-08:00

[This is the sixth instalment of the series. Begin the Trail with part-one here.]

Thus far, we have seen how Hashem blessed Avraham with both material and spiritual riches, we have seen Yitzchok's attempt to divide up these two berachos between Yaakov and Eisav, and we have seen Yaakov's repudiation of the blessing of materialism that his mother forced him to steal. We continue pursuing the trail now, but first we must go back and take another look at the language of the original Berachos.

As we pointed out in the first post of this series, the Beracha that Yitzchok saved for Yaakov (28:3-4) is the very same Beracha that Hashem gave Avraham at the end of Parshas Lech Lecha (17:1-8), albeit in abbreviate form. Yitzchok retains all the key words and themes of the original Beracha, with one exception - he makes no mention of the ברית that Hashem promised Avraham, the eternal relationship, the "והייתי לכם לאלהים". It would seem that it is not within Yitzchok's power to grant that part of the Beracha to Yaakov. A ברית is a covenant between two parties and as such it obviously cannot be created by an outsider. Ultimately, the question of Yaakov's relationship with Hashem and his destiny as an אב can only be determined by Hashem Himself. Although Avraham gave the beracha of כל to Yitzchok (25:5), after Avraham passes away Hashem has to come and bless Yitzchok directly (25:11). So it must be with Yaakov as well.

This explains the oath that Yaakov took at Beis El. Yaakov has just stolen טל השמים from Eisav and received ברכת אברהם from Yitzchok, but yet he says the following:

וידר יעקב נדר לאמר אם יהיה אלהים עמדי ושמרני בדרך הזה אשר אנכי הולך ונתן לי לחם לאכל ובגד ללבש ושבתי בשלום אל בית אבי והיה יהוה לי לאלהים, והאבן הזאת אשר שמתי מצבה יהיה בית אלהים וכל אשר תתן לי עשר אעשרנו לך

Yaakov asks not for the fulfillment of any of the blessings that he has received, rather he focuses on the one beracha that he lacks, the piece his father left out: והיה ה' לי לאלהים.

There is another significant difference between what Hashem says to Avraham at the end of Lech Lecha and what Yitzchok says to Yaakov at the end of Toldos. While Hashem blesses Avraham directly, אני אל שדי... ואתנה בריתי, Yitzchok merely expresses his hope that אל שדי will bless Yaakov with ברכת אברהם. Yitzchok can do no more than pray ואל שדי יברך אתך for the very same reason that he can make no statements about a ברית. It's in God's hands.

Years later, Yaakov returns to Israel and fulfills his end of the deal, building a בית אלהים at Beis El. He then receives this prophecy:

ויאמר לו אלהים שמך יעקב לא יקרא שמך עוד יעקב כי אם ישראל יהיה שמך ויקרא את שמו ישראל ויאמר לו אלהים אני אל שדי פרה ורבה גוי וקהל גוים יהיה ממך ומלכים מחלציך יצאו ואת הארץ אשר נתתי לאברהם וליצחק לך אתננה ולזרעך אחריך אתן את הארץ

Here "Yitzchok's blessing" is fulfilled! Hashem Himself, coming as אל שדי, grants ברכת אברהם to Yaakov - using the same key words from parshas Lech Lecha and Toldos! This Beracha is transformative, and so, like his grandfather Avraham before him, Yaakov's name is changed as he receives his destiny.

That Yaakov merits ברכת אברהם comes as no surprise; what is facinating is what is missing. Hashem makes no mention of the berachos that Yaakov stole from Eisav! No טל השמים, no שמני הארץ. Hashem never does bless Yaakov with any of the material blessings that were granted to Avraham at the beginning of Lech Lecha (unless you count 46:3). Like Yaakov himself, Hashem seems focused on the original vision of Yaakov, the איש תם יושב אהלים, a man dedicated exclusively to divine service. The fact that Yaakov has usurped Eisav's role is being ignored, and, on some level, maybe even denied.

[Continue the Trail with part-seven here.]

On the Trail of Blessings: Mother Knows Best?

2009-11-25T20:39:00.000-08:00

[This is the fifth installment in the series. Begin the Trail here.]

When Rivkah hears that her husband intends to give the berachos to Eisav, she orders Yaakov to pull off the greatest heist of history. Yaakov does as he is told, but he's not very happy about it. In fact, it can be argued that Yaakov doesn't want the blessing at all.

Beyond the obvious ethical problems that this scheme raises for the man of truth, there is another issue here of no less import. For, as we have seen, Eisav's mission is bound up with his blessing. It follows that to steal the blessing of the man of the field is to take on the responsibilities of the man of the field - responsibilities that Yaakov, the יושב אהלים, would understandably prefer to avoid. We present here several pieces of evidence:

· Told of Rivkah's plan that he dress up as Eisav, Yaakov is nervous:

אולי ימשני אבי והייתי בעיניו כמתעתע, "Maybe father will feel me and he'll think I'm an impostor!"

Yaakov's use of אולי for "maybe" is significant. According to the Vilna Gaon, אולי is used when the speaker hopes that the issue in doubt will come true [if you hope it won't, פן is used](Gaon on Bereishis 24:39, see Kol Eliyahu for examples). Based on this Gaon, Rabbi Yitzchok Dov Bamberger (Wurzburger Rov, 1807-1878) explains that despite his mother's orders, Yaakov secretly hoped the ruse would be foiled by his father (cited in Peninim MiShulchan HaGra).

· Direct evidence of Yaakov's reluctance can be seen here:

ותקח רבקה את בגדי עשו בנה הגדל החמדת... ותלבש את יעקב בנה הקטן

"And Rivka took Eisav's clothes... and dressed Yaakov...

Rivkah has to dress Yaakov herself to get him to participate! Indeed, the Midrash tells us that Yaakov cried as his fulfilled his mother's orders (B.R. 65:15).

· At the beginning of Parshas Vayeitzei, Yaakov takes an oath:

וידר יעקב נדר לאמר אם יהיה אלהים עמדי ושמרני בדרך הזה אשר אנכי הולך ונתן לי לחם לאכול ובגד ללבש, “If God will be with me... and give me bread to eat and clothes to wear...”

This is the man who just received the blessing of wealth! "God shall give you the dew of heaven and the fat of the earth, much grain and wine..." And he asks for bread?! This can be nothing other than a repudiation of the blessing his mother forced him to steal. Yaakov is interested in God, not wealth.

· When Yaakov needs to make some money in order to move back to Israel, he cuts a deal with Lavan (cf. 30:31-33). According to the laws of nature, Yaakov is not going to make very much money and Lavan knows it (31:34). The fact that Yaakov struck it big was due less to his genetic engineering (30:37-41) than to divine intervention (31:9-12). Again, it appears that Yaakov is only trying to provide for his family's needs, no more. The Rashba brings further evidence to Yaakov’s preference for the tent of Torah over financial success: ובכל מאדך – למאוס כל ממונו אם יצטרך לכך לקיים עבודתו ית', כיעקב אבינו ע"ה שמאס בעושר בית אביו ובחר לו להיות יושב אהלים. ואמר כל אשר תתן לי עשר אעשרנו לך (Teshuvos HaRashba 5:55).

· On Yaakov's return to Israel he attempts to appease Eisav's wrath by returning to him the blessing of wealth which he stole, sending Eisav jewels (Rashi 32:14), goats, sheep, cattle, camels and donkeys (see, however, Rashi to 32:5). When they finally meet, Yaakov says it explicitly:

קח נא את ברכתי, "Take my blessing!"

Admittedly, Yaakov's statements to Eisav prove little - Yaakov would obviously say anything to save his life, nor is it within Yaakov abilities to transfer the blessing back to his brother - nonetheless, I believe it is unlikely that Yaakov would attempt this tactic if he wasn't sincere.

We must note that Rashi to 32:27 sees Yaakov fighting to confirm his rights to the stolen berachos, and Rashi to 33:9 writes that in the end Eisav actually cedes the berachos to his brother!

[Continue the Trail here.]

On the Trail of Blessings: Having It All

2009-11-24T11:16:00.000-08:00

[This is the first installment of a series on the development of the Berachos in Sefer Bereishis. I encourage you to follow it through to the end - it is one extended בנין.]

Hashem loves the Avos and He blesses them, promising them the world. Avraham is the first recipient of these extraordinary divine gifts, but it is obviously the nature of blessings of nationhood and legacy that they are to be inherited by succeeding generations. Indeed, although the language does evolve and new elements are added, we can easily trace the Berachos as they pass from Avraham to Yitzchok and then from Yitzchok to Yaakov. But when Yitzchok grabbed the horns of destiny and attempted to bless Eisav, things get complicated. Are the blessings a package deal? Or can they divide in two when they hit a fork in the road? Let's pick up the trail from the beginning.

In Parshas Lech Lecha, Avraham receives two very different Berachos. In the beginning of the Parsha, Hashem promises him this:

ואעשך לגוי גדול ואברכך ואגדלה שמך והיה ברכה: ואברכה מברכיך ומקללך אאר ונברכו בך כל משפחת האדמה. יב:ב

In other words, Hashem blessed Avraham with power, wealth, fame and influence. Later in the Parsha, by the Bris bein HaBesarim, Hashem is even more explicit: טו:יד) ואחרי כן יצאו ברכוש גדול). "Great wealth" is promised to Avraham's progeny.

The part about becoming a nation obviously cannot happen during Avraham's lifetime, but wealth, power and success certainly can, and does:

ויהי לו צאן ובקר וחמורים ועבדים ושפחת ואתנת וגמלים... ואברם כבד מאד במקנה בכסף ובזהב. יב:טז, יג:ב
נשיא אלהים אתה בתוכנו. כג:ו
וה' ברך את אברהם בכל. כד:א
באורך ימים ועושר וכבוד ובנים, וזו כל חמדת האדם - אבן עזרא

Avraham has it "all;" a long life, wealth, honor and children. As the Ibn Ezra says, it's everything a man could ever want. But is it, really? Compare this Beracha from the end of the Parshas Lech Lecha:

ויהי אברם בן תשעים שנה ותשע שנים וירא יקוק אל אברם ויאמר אליו אני אל שדי התהלך לפני והיה תמים: ואתנה בריתי ביני ובינך וארבה אותך במאד מאד: ויפל אברם על פניו וידבר אתו אלהים לאמר: אני הנה בריתי אתך והיית לאב המון גוים: ולא יקרא עוד את שמך אברם והיה שמך אברהם כי אב המון גוים נתתיך: והפרתי אתך במאד מאד ונתתיך לגוים ומלכים ממך יצאו: והקמתי את בריתי ביני ובינך ובין זרעך אחריך לדרתם לברית עולם להיות לך לאלהים ולזרעך אחריך: ונתתי לך ולזרעך אחריך את ארץ מגריך את כל ארץ כנען לאחזת עולם והייתי להם לאלהים: יז:א-ח

Here Hashem introduces Himself with a new name, "אל שדי" and changes Avram's name to "Avraham." He then promises Avraham that he will be fruitful and multiply "וארבה אותך... והפרתי אתך", ultimately leading to a monarchy "מלכים ממך יצאו" blessed with both an eternal relationship with Hashem "ברית עולם" and the Land of Israel "אחוזת עולם". This blessing speaks of Avraham's descendants' destiny as God's chosen nation in the Holy Land. No mention here of money or fame. It seems there is more to life than having it "all."

The beracha to be fruitful and multiply stands out for two reasons. First, it happens to be the very first thing God said to Adam (Bereishis 1:28). Second, does it really belong in the context of spiritual blessings? The answer is self-evident. These two points resolve each other: Hashem is telling Avraham that he is the new Adam: Be fruitful and multiply, for we are starting over with you. You, Avraham, are the father of a new species of man: "homo religiosus." Maybe this is why, along with Avram's new name, Hashem Himself gets a new name: אל שדי - A God Who says, "Enough!" Adam failed his test, as did Noach. But now we have Avraham. דיינו!

The Birchas HaAvos thus consist of two very different elements. At the beginning of Lech Lecha, Hashem blesses Avraham's material future, promising him wealth, success and fame. And at the end of the Parsha, Hashem gifts him with a rich spiritual destiny - he is to be the father of the Nation of God. This explains why the mitzva of ברית מילה arrives packaged together with this second Beracha at the end of the Parsha (cf. 17:9-14). More powerfully than any other mitzva, circumcision demands transcendence of our physicality (the act speaks for itself, but we can also point to the symbolism of the number eight). The vision of a spiritual Chosen Nation described in the second set of blessings is thus anchored in the private mitzva of מילה, in contradistinction to the public act of לך לך which defined the physical dimension of the nation found at the beginning of the Parsha.

While both blessings refer to a great nation in Avraham's future, one wonders if God is actually talking about the same nation. Are these blessings supposed to be merged into one people? Or maybe there are two nations here, making Avraham a true אב המון גוים? This seemingly bizarre line of questioning turns out to be the key to understanding Parshas Toldos.

In Parshas Toldos, Yaakov purchases the birthright from his brother Eisav for a bowl of soup. What exactly did he buy? According to Rashi, the birthright is the privilege of performing the service in the Temple; according to the Chizkuni, the birthright is the right to the Land of Israel (both views are found in the Midrash). Either way, the birthright has nothing in common with the material blessings found the beginning of Lech Lecha. (This explains why Eisav was happy to sell it for soup, cf. Ibn Ezra.) It is the blessing of spiritual riches found at the end of Lech Lecha that is the privilege of the firstborn. And this is the blessing that Yaakov wants.

At the end of Parshas Toldos, Yitzchok attempts to give a Beracha to Eisav, but Yaakov, following his mother's orders, "steals" it. In contrast to his readiness to sell the religious responsibilities of the birthright, Eisav is devastated when he realizes that he has lost his father's blessing. What exactly did he lose? Here's the text:

ויתן לך האלהים מטל השמים ומשמני הארץ ורב דגן ותירש: יעבדוך עמים וישתחו לך לאמים הוה גביר לאחיך וישתחוו לך בני אמך ארריך ארור ומברכיך ברוך: כז:כח-כט

Wealth and power, but no mention of ברית or Israel. This blessing is clearly an elaboration of the blessing given to Avraham at the beginning of Lech Lecha, as evidenced by the reappearance of the promise to "bless those who bless you and curse those who curse you." Yitzchok only intended to give this blessing to Eisav; he was saving the spiritual blessings for Yaakov (Seforno to 27:29). Indeed, when Yitzchok sends Yaakov away at the end of the Parsha, he grants him this blessing:

ויקרא יצחק אל יעקב ויברך אתו ויצוהו ויאמר לו לא תקח אשה מבנות כנען: קום לך פדנה ארם ביתה בתואל אבי אמך וקח לך משם אשה מבנות לבן אחי אמך: ואל שדי יברך אתך ויפרך וירבך והיית לקהל עמים: ויתן לך את ברכת אברהם לך ולזרעך אתך לרשתך את ארץ מגריך אשר נתן אלהים לאברהם: כח:א-ד

This is exactly the same Beracha that Hashem gave Avraham at the end of Lech Lecha! The same אל שדי, the same ויפרך וירבך, the same ארץ מגריך. This is the spiritual ברכת אברהם. And, if we are correct, this is what Yaakov purchased from Eisav for a bowl of soup. There's no money in it, just an eternal covenant with God.

The Abrahamic legacy consisted of two blessings. Eisav knew this, but Eisav also knew that his father wasn't planning on giving him everything.

Eisav himself had never expected that Yitzchak would confer upon him the whole blessing. He immediately askes his father: הלא אצלת לי ברכה, "Have you not reserved a blessing for me?" (v. 36). That is to say, had you given me the blessing, you surely would have reserved a blessing for Yaakov; that blessing - give to me!
Rabbi S.R. Hirsch

Eisav knows good and well that his father has another blessing in his pocket - "!?הברכה אחת היא לך אבי" - but even when he begs his father for a blessing, any blessing, Yitzchok refuses to put the Holy Land into the hands of Eisav. This infuriates Eisav even more than his brother's treachery: וישטם עשו את יעקב על הברכה אשר ברכו אביו, "Eisav hated Yaakov for the Beracha that his father blessed him" (27:41) - Eisav's hatred for Yaakov has its source not in Yaakov's theft per se, but in Yitzchok's refusal to give him Israel! All Eisav got was a vague, watered-down blessing that places Yaakov as a yoke around his neck.

This much is clear: Yitzchok wanted to divide up the Berachos between his sons. This is not a violation of the family legacy; on the contrary, the Berachos in their original form do seem to speak of two different nations. Yitzchok naturally assumed that Hashem's two blessings referred to the two nations of Yaakov and Eisav.

Yitzchok knew his sons and he envisioned a bi-national partnership; a joint venture where Yaakov, the יושב אהלים, could dwell in the tents, devoting himself entirely to divine service, while Eisav, the איש שדה, went out into the world to claim the blessings of wealth -לך לך- in order to support his brother's holy work (cf. Malbim; however, see Teshuvos HaRashba 1:134).

Such was Yitzchok's vision, but it is not to be. Yaakov takes all.

[Continue the trail with part-two here.]

Vashti Lives!

2009-03-12T12:30:00.000-07:00

This post interprets the Megillah in a way that is not p'shat but remez. In other words, there is more to the Megillah than what meets the eye. Alongside its straightforward meaning, there is another dimension to the text which tells a second, parallel story. Yes, the Megillah is both history and allegory at the very same time; as God unfolds history, He speaks.

We must first accept two givens:

1) The Gaon of Vilna teaches that every time it says the word "King" in the Megillah it is an allegorical reference to God.

2) The sages tells us that the covenant at Sinai was a "marriage" between God and the Jewish nation. (King Solomon's Song of Songs takes this allegory and runs with it.)

If we add up these two traditions we get this result: The wives of Ahashveirosh are the Jews. Stay with me here.

In the beginning, God provided us with an unending, indulgent feast. Our every whim was provided for and the King asked for only one thing in return: that His wife come to Him. To show the world how beautiful she is. But we refused.

The King had no choice. He decreed that his wife lose her position as His queen. This is the destruction of the First Temple. But nowhere does it say that Vashti was actually killed.

Maimonides writes that one of the ways of repentance is to change your name, casting off your old, sinful identity. At some point during the Babylonian exile, the Jews repented. Vashti became Esther.

However, even "Esther" does not come of her own volition. When God chose the Jews at Sinai, He menacingly held the mountain over them, giving them no choice but to accept. Esther and the Jews are "Chosen." One cannot chose to be Chosen.

The relationship thus remains unconsummated. The King wants the Queen to prove her love. He still pines for the day that His Queen will overcome all obstacles and come to Him on her own. So He comes up with a creative plan: He orchestrates a disaster. The King decrees that the Queen be destroyed. (Of course, the King loves His wife and intends her no harm. That is why, in the Megillah, even as the decree is signed by the king's signet ring, the queen is perfectly safe in the palace.)

The plan works! Risking her life, the Queen comes to the King, recognizing that He is the only one who will save her.

Of course, coming to the King wasn't easy for Esther. It meant losing her beloved Mordechai, for the King is obviously not willing to share the Queen. Coming to the King is synonymous with transcending all of our personal desires and agendas. But there is nothing to fear. The King promises to spilt the kingdom with the Queen 50/50!

The story is indeed bizarre. The Queen turns to the King for help when the King is the one who created the problem in the first place?! But this paradox is the reality that we must recognize on Purim: Ad D'Lo Yada... Drink until we don't know anymore what good and what is not...

The decree was a ruse, but it accomplished its task. The Jews embrace their relationship with God, accepting their traditions with love. At long last, the Temple can be rebuilt.

Happy Purim!

In the Mood for Tisha B'Av?

2008-07-25T12:35:00.000-07:00

Sunday was the seventeenth of Taamuz and next Shabbat is the first of Av. Which means one thing: Tisha B’Av is approaching. On Tisha B’Av, Jerusalem was lost and the Temple was destroyed. It is the day we were exiled from our homeland and the day the Diaspora began. It is the saddest day of the year and we need to start preparing for it now.

Of all the Jewish days on the calendar, Tisha B’Av is the most difficult to observe. Nobody has trouble relating to the festive holidays. All year we look forward to Rosh Hashanah, Sukkot, Pesach and Shavuot. Everybody loves Chanukah and Purim. Even when it comes to Yom Kippur, as hard as it may be for us to face the challenge of personal growth, we still manage to experience the holiness of the day by giving repentance our best shot. Tisha B’Av, however, is another story. On Tisha B’Av you can’t satisfy yourself by going through the motions. There are no motions. There are only tears. Either you have them or you don’t.

On Tisha B’Av there is no Shofar to blow, no Seder to lead, and no Menorah to light. It does not call for any external action at all. What it calls for is emotion. Fasting and mourning are simultaneously the means to inspire somber reflection and the natural reaction to the burning issues of the day. Tisha B’Av demands consciousness of our national history, empathy for our national pain, and sharing our national aspirations. Tisha B’Av is aimed directly at our hearts, and that is why it is such a challenge.

There is a popular misconception that observing Tisha B’Av is only for Jews who are passionate about Judaism. Nothing could be further from the truth. Such mistaken thinking is the result of an ignorance of how mitzvot operate. Jewish identity is by no means a required prerequisite for the observance of Tisha B’Av. Quite the opposite. The observance of Tisha B’Av itself generates Jewish identity.

It is not expected that people will naturally feel joy on the holidays or grief on Tisha B’Av. If it came to us naturally, there would be no mitzvah. Our job is to make the effort to inspire these feelings within. By focusing on the tragedies of our history, by empathizing with the suffering of our people, and by recognizing that Divine intervention is our only hope, we connect with our past, we unite with our people, and we awaken our souls. That is the mitzvah of Tisha B’Av.

The Talmud tells us that the Second Temple was destroyed because of baseless hatred. A breakdown of community is something G-d does not tolerate. So He left. After functioning as a sanctuary for G-d’s Presence for 420 years, the Temple became no more than an empty building.

Having been destroyed spiritually, it was only a matter of time before it was destroyed physically. It stands to reason that as long as hatred exists among Jews, the Divine Presence will not return to Jerusalem.

But it is not the mere eradication of hate that we are after. Love is our goal. How can we uproot the evil of hate, replace it with love, and put an end to our exile? Tisha B’Av is the answer.

It is very easy to talk about love, unity, and identity, but how do you know if it is real? We convince ourselves that we have fulfilled the mitzvah of loving our fellow Jews, but have we? The question we need to ask ourselves is this: Do we share the joys of our brothers and sisters? Do we feel their pain? Do we feel for the nation as a whole? Such feelings do not materialize by themselves; they need to be cultivated and developed. It is for this reason that we have Tisha B’Av. On Tisha B’Av we move beyond self-centeredness into other-centeredness. We deepen our relationship with our fellow Jews by allowing the suppressed love and concern within our souls to break through to the surface.

Today we have been over-saturated with tragedy and our hearts have hardened. We have lost our sensitivity and we have forgotten how to cry. Tisha B’Av restores our hearts back to the warm, empathetic Jewish heart that it was designed to be. By mourning the tragedies of our history right down to the present day, we teach our hearts to feel again. The sadness of Tisha B’Av is not a depression that breaks you; it is a compassionate sadness that fixes and heals.

On Tisha B'Av, we mourn our distance from G-d, we cleanse any residue of hate from our hearts, and we forge a more meaningful relationship with our people, our land, and our G-d. Every Jew needs Tisha B’Av. But in order the have a successful Tisha B’Av, one cannot wait until the ninth of Av. Preparations must begin weeks in advance.

The inner work of Tisha B’Av is too important and too difficult for just one day. The mourning period therefore begins three weeks earlier on the seventeenth of Tammuz. The mourning starts on a low level, easily accessible to all. Slowly, as we enter the month of Av, the mourning intensifies until the climax is reached on the fast of Tisha B’Av.

There are no shortcuts. It is difficult to experience a meaningful Tisha B’Av if the earlier stages are skipped. But if one prepares properly during the “Three Weeks,” learning the lessons of our painful history, observing the mourning practices of the period and slowly increasing consciousness of the sad state of the Jewish world, then Tisha B’Av will be what it was meant to be. A day on which the core of our Jewish identity is revealed in all of its beauty. There is no other day like it.

Free at Fifty

2008-05-16T11:40:00.001-07:00

The study of p’shat, the straightforward meaning of the Torah text, is a pursuit which can supply a lifetime of study, wisdom and inspiration. However, Torah study is not limited to this approach. P’shat is only one of the Torah’s multiple universes. Sometimes, the façade of p’shat cracks and the Torah’s deeper dimensions come to the fore.

This week’s parsha begins with the mitzvah of Shmitah, the Sabbatical year.

When you come to the land that I am giving you, the land must be given a rest period, a Shabbat to God. For six years you may plant your fields, prune your vineyards and harvest your crops, but the seventh year is a sabbatical Shabbat for the land.
Vayikra 25:2-3

The Torah continues with Yovel, the Jubilee year.

You shall count seven sabbatical years, that is, seven times seven years. The period of the seven sabbatical cycles shall thus be forty-nine years. You shall make a proclamation with the ram’s horn... You shall sanctify the fiftieth year declaring emancipation of [Hebrew] slaves for the land and all who live in it. This is your jubilee year, when each man shall return to his hereditary property and to his family.
Ibid 25:8-9,10

After counting seven Shmitah periods, we arrive at Yovel, the fiftieth and final year of the cycle. Jews who sold themselves into slavery to escape poverty or were sold as slaves to pay off debts incurred by stealing are released and return home. Similarly, hereditary fields that had been sold during the course of the past fifty years return to their original owners on Yovel. Everything returns to its default position. It’s as if someone hit the reset button.

It is virtually impossible to study these mitzvot without bringing to mind a mitzvah from last week’s parsha.

You shall count seven complete weeks after the day following the [Passover] holiday… until the day after the seventh week, when there will be [a total of] fifty days… This very day shall be celebrated as a sacred holiday…
Ibid 23:15-16,21

This is the mitzvah of Sefirat HaOmer, a mitzvah to count the days from the Exodus on Passover to the revelation at Sinai on Shavuot fifty days later. (This Shabbat is the twenty-seventh day of the Omer.)

The Omer count follows the exact same pattern as the Yovel cycle! In both we are instructed to count sets of seven days/years seven times. And then, the following day/year, the fiftieth, is sanctified. Moreover, just as a ram’s horn was blown on Yovel, the fiftieth year, a ram’s horn was also blown at Sinai on Shavuot, the fiftieth day. “There was the sound of a ram’s horn, increasing in volume to a great degree…” (Shemot 19:19). What are we to make of all this? Do these cycles share a deeper commonality?

This isn’t going to be easy.

In the Yovel cycle, Jewish slaves are freed on the fifty year. We count the years leading up to their freedom. This is quite the opposite from the Omer cycle where the counting begins after the Jews gain their freedom from enslavement in Egypt. It would seem that the two sanctified fifties, Yovel and Shavuot, have nothing in common.

P’shat isn’t providing answers, so we turn to the Mishnah for assistance.

The only person who is free is the one who toils in the study of Torah.
Ethics of the Fathers 6:2

The Torah sets us free. This explains everything! Shavuot is the day we got the Torah at Sinai and we became free, just like Yovel!

Great. But free from what? Didn’t we leave Egypt fifty days earlier?

The Torah is throwing a wrench into our understanding of Jewish history. Maybe we didn’t gain total freedom at the Exodus. Maybe we were still enslaved to something for forty-nine more days until we were truly emancipated on Shavuot. But what could that something be?

The answer is right before our eyes, but we would prefer not to face it. With the receiving of the Torah on Shavuot we were freed from self-enslavement. For as long as Torah is lacking, as long as objective truth and mitzvot are missing from the world, man is destined to be the slave of his own negative drives. Without the system of Judaism to elevate us, in the absence of the service the God, we are left with nothing more than the service of the self.

It turns out that the two fifties, Yovel and Shavuot, are identical. What happens on Yovel? The Jewish slave, a man who is the sole cause of his own slavery, is set free. A hereditary field, which was sold by the owner himself, returns to where it belongs. This is the very same power of Shavuot. The Torah frees man from his self-imposed slavery and returns him to his true self.

On Pesach we gained physical freedom, but we were still slaves. By counting the days of the Omer we recognize that we need more than an Exodus, we need a deeper kind of freedom. A freedom that can only be found fifty days later on a hill called Sinai.

Purim Afterthoughts, Part II

2008-03-23T14:09:00.000-07:00

For the first time, I have made extensive use of Hebrew in this post. Don't worry, I don't intend to make a habit of it. My apologies to all readers who feel left out, but Hebrew makes it is easier to keep things brief and I'm pressed for time. Special thanks to my father, Rabbi Noam Gordon of Jerusalem, for encouraging me to put my Purim thoughts in writing. There is much here that is neither new nor mine, but I believe there is enough that warrents a post. To fully appreciate this post, I recommend reading part-one first.

Right before Amalek attacks, we read:

וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם הַמָּקוֹם, מַסָּה וּמְרִיבָה. עַל-רִיב בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, וְעַל נַסֹּתָם אֶת-יְהוָה לֵאמֹר, הֲיֵשׁ יְהוָה בְּקִרְבֵּנוּ, אִם-אָיִן. וַיָּבֹא עֲמָלֵק

Amalek is not a tribe; it is a way of thinking. It is the force in the universe that refuses to recognize the Hand of God and the Chosenness of Israel. After the Exodus the Jews were hot and untouchable, but then they doubted God's presence. It was this doubt that introduces an Amalek who smashes the aura of reverence and cools things down. Ever since, Hashem's Throne and Name are damaged, and so they will remain until the day that Amalek is annihilated.

That day is tomorrow. Moshe told Yehoshua, בחר לנו אנשים וצא הלחם בעמלק מחר. King David overtook Amalek, ויכם דוד מהנשף ועד הערב למחרתם. And Esther told Achashveirosh, ינתן גם מחר ליהודים. Why is it always tomorrow? Because the destruction of Amalek is not merely the physical destruction of an evil race. It is the destruction of our own lack of clarity about who is the One running the show. And that can only come when we get to the end of the story and can go back and read it again from the beginning. Tomorrow.

Chanukah is in the past. רבת את רבם, דנת את דינם, נקמת את נקמתם (Al Ha'Nissim for Chanukah). But the Megillah is today. הרב את רבינו, הדן את דנינו, הנוקם את נקמתינו (Asher Heini). Purim is happening now because in every generation Amalek rises up to destroy us. מלחמה ליהוה בעמלק מדור דור - בכל דור ודור עומדים עלינו לכלותינו. This is why we say in Shoshanas Yaakov that the Megillah is a source of hope in every generation: "ותקותם בכל דור ודור" (R. Dovid Cohen, "ימי פורים"). The Megillah gives us hope because we are always in the middle of it!

We live in the Megillah today and Purim is tomorrow. For the destruction of Amalek only comes after Amalek is already gone.

והיה בהניח יהוה אלוהיך לך מכל איביך מסביב... תמחה את זכר עמלק

"זכר עמלק" - the residue of Amalek. This זכר can be erased only when Amalek and all of his cohorts are gone - בהניח יהוה אלוהיך לך מכל איביך - because to erase the זכר of Amalek we need מנוחה. We need מנוחה to reread the story slowly and see Hashem's Hand guiding things from the get go. We need מנוחה to recognize the רפואה before the מכה. This is why והיה בהניח must happen first.

When we are in the midst of things, we are בדרך. And Amalek always gets us on the דרך. When we are on the road, attempting to navigate through the darkness of our story, we suffer from the anxiety of frightening events and Hashem's apparent absence. We lack מנוחה, and עמלק & ספק (same gematria) enter our lives. אשר קרך בדרך. Our job is to destroy this זכר of Amalek, and that can be done only with the מנוחה that comes after Amalek is gone. That is why Purim is celebrated not on the 13th when we killed Amalek, but on the 14th when we had מנוחה. As the פסוק states, "ונוח בארבעה עשר בו". Purim is always on the morrow.

And now we come to Yerushalayim. Even when Yerushalayimites read the Megillah at night they are not fasting. Yerushalayim has that extra clarity. And Yerushalayim, Hashem's throne, always celebrates Purim tomorrow. On the fifteenth, when יום טוב is supposed to be.

This is why פורים משולש is celebrated on Sunday. The day after. Shabbos requires none of the מצות היום of Purim, for the מנוחה of Shabbos itself destroys Amalek (Zohar, עי' שפת אמת). With the help of the מנוחה and clarity of Shabbos, Purim is pushed beyond Purim into an ordinary day of the year, the 16th, bringing the tomorrow we are all waiting for ever closer into our world.

Purim Afterthoughts

2008-03-23T10:27:00.000-07:00

With Haman hanged and my hangover behind me, I'm going to try to put some Purim thoughts on paper (um, whatever). I've got to keep this short; a Focus deadline is fast approaching and I'm pressed for time. So wish me luck. V'Hameivin Yavin.

There are two Megillahs.

One Megillah is a story of exile; a story of attempted annihilation; a story of God's absence; a story of hopelessness. It is a frightening read. It is read at night, while we fast. Obviously, this Megillah has no seudah associated with it.

There is another Megillah. This Megillah is a story of redemption, a story of a refuah set up in advance of a makkah, a story where the Hand of God is as clear as day. It is a delight to read. It is read in the daytime and it generates a mitzvah to party - hard. This second Megillah is created by the first Megillah. Once we get to the end of the story, we are impelled to read it again from the beginning. And the second time around it's a very different story.

The Talmud teaches: "Anyone who says things in the name of the one who first said them brings redemption to the world." (Sorry, I forgot who said that.) The source for this idea is Esther. She reported an assassination attempt in the name of Mordechai and this, says the Talmud, brought redemption to the world.

Did it, really? By all appearances, all her report accomplished was to get Mordechai a free ride on a horse. Redemption came through Esther's influence with the king. The entire episode of Mordechai's foiling the assassination and his subsequent reward could be deleted from the Megillah with no ill effect. The scene of Haman leading Mordechai through the streets is gratifying, but it is certainly not necessary for redemption. Why does the Talmud think otherwise?

When Haman returns home and tells his wife what happened, she responds by saying that if Mordechai is indeed of Jewish desent, then Haman is finished. Prophetic words; indeed, within a few short hours, her husband was dead. But how did she know? Yes, he had a bad day, but he was still the most powerful man in the empire and he was on his way to a private party with the king and the queen. Zeresh had no way of knowing that Esther was Jewish! She should have told her husband to take a hot shower, get over it and cheer up. How did she know that Haman was doomed?

Zeresh was a smart lady. She knew it was no mere coincidence that just as Haman is about to ask the king for permission to kill Mordechai, the king is reminded that Mordechai saved his life. Instead of hanging Mordechai, Haman is dressing him in the king's clothes and leading him through the streets on the king's horse?! This can mean only one thing. The God of Israel has arrived. And when the God of Israel shows up, it's game over.

By reporting the assassination attempt in the name of Mordechai, Esther created the avenue through which God arrives on the scene. The Talmud is only affirming what Zeresh saw. It is God's arrival that guarantees redemption; not Esther's political shenanigans.

Zeresh's insight echoes Mordechai's sharp response to Esther just a few days earlier: "Revach v'hatzalah ya'amod la'Yehudim mimakom acher." We don't need you, Esther. If you do nothing, the Jews will be saved some other way. God will show up in due time. The only question is if you will play a role.

Zeresh and Mordechai think alike. We don't need Esther.

Some people wonder why God's Name does not appear in the Megillah, but Reb Shlomo Charlebach didn't understand the question. Why should God's Name be in the Megillah? God is the one telling us the story!

With Shlomo's insight, we gain a new appreciation for the words of the sages. "Anyone who says things in the name of the one who first said them brings redemption to the world." We need to remember that God was the one who first said the Megillah. He spoke when Vashti was killed and Esther was chosen, He spoke when Mordechai overheard Bigson & Seresh, and He spoke when Achashveirosh couldn't sleep that night. God wrote and directed this story. We should cite Him as the source of redemption, not Esther.

If Zeresh recognized this truth, so should we. And when we do, we create an avenue that brings God, and redemption, into the world.

Click here for part-two

The Passing Ring

2008-03-06T13:17:00.000-08:00

Not more than a two hours ago in the holiest city in the world, in a house of Torah study on the eve of the happiest month something happened... Please ask yourself what happened.. to whom and why and what you will do about it... will you sit tonight fork and knife in hand over a thick steak.. perhaps watch a movie or read... will your life go on with nothing more than a shrug?

I sure hope not.

Piggyback Ride, Anyone?

2008-03-05T17:46:00.000-08:00

An unusual design feature in the vestments of the Kohen Gadol (High Priest) set me thinking. It's hard to describe without a photo, but considering that the Torah prefers things that way (see our post on parshat Terumah), we'll stick to verbal descriptions. I couldn't find a decent online image for it anyhow.

Both literally and figuratively, the "Choshen" was the centerpiece of the Kohen Gadol's outfit. An extravagant breastplate with the names of the twelve tribes etched onto its twelve precious stones, the Choshen was bound to the Kohen Gadol's chest with golden and woolen cords.

Aaron will thus carry the names of the Children of Israel on the Choshen of Judgment upon his heart when he comes into the sanctuary. It shall be a constant remembrance before God."
Shemot 28:29

Interestingly, the Torah describes how the Choshen was attached to the Kohen's body even before it tells us what the Choshen is. Moreover, the Torah spends more verses describing this method of attachment than it spends describing the Choshen itself! The Torah is emphasizing a seemingly insignificant detail; we would do well to take a closer look.

The Choshen was attached to the body by means of the "Eiphod." While certain elements of the Eiphod's design are a mystery, the points relevant to our discussion are quite clear. (That is, despite certain textual ambiguities, both Rashi and the Rambam are in agreement as to the Torah's meaning. We can speak with confidence.)

The Eiphod was sort of an apron worn backwards which tied on above the waist with a built-in belt. In the back, two straps went up from the belt, extending over the Kohen's shoulders, and at the shoulder, each of these straps had golden setting for a sardonyx stone. Like the stones of the Choshen, these stones had the names of all twelve tribes etched into them - six tribes on one stone and six on the other.

Place the two stones on the two shoulder straps of the Eiphod as remembrance stones for the Children of Israel. Aaron shall carry their names on his two shoulders before God as a remembrance.
Shemot 28:12

Right beneath the two stones, two golden cords descended from the shoulder straps and looped through rings at the top two corners of the square Choshen. This held the Choshen securely from the top, but that alone would not prevent the Chosen from swinging away from the body when the Kohen leaned forward. For that, there were another two rings on the bottom two corners of the Choshen, through which two woolen cords were drawn and tied down to the Eiphod.

Here is the interesting point in the design. We might have expected those bottom two cords to attach directly to the belt of the Eiphod beneath them. But this is not the case. The Torah tells us to draw the two cords around to the Kohen's back and tie them to rings at the bottom of the shoulder straps (28:27-28). It seems that the entire Choshen, all four corners of it, must be supported exclusively by the Eiphod's shoulder straps. Strange, is it not?

In order to understand this design feature, we must first understand the meaning of the Choshen itself.

The story of the Choshen begins in a much darker era, at a time when no one dared dream of a Mishkan. Newborn babes lie dead at the floor of the Nile, Jewish slaves pick cotton in the Egyptian fields, and God is meeting with Moshe at a bush in the desert. God tells Moshe to return to Egypt and redeem the Jews, but Moshe has concerns. He is worried about his speech defect, and he is worried how this mission will affect his relationship with his older brother. Moshe suggests that God send Aaron instead.

God got angry at Moshe. "I am well aware that Aaron your brother, the Levite, is a good speaker. He is setting out to greet you, and when he sees you, he will rejoice in his heart!"
Shemot 4:14

This is the majesty of Aaron. Transcending the sibling rivalry endemic to the book of Bereishit, he is happy for his younger brother's success. A heart of this caliber deserves a little jewelry.

Rabbi Milai said, "In reward for [Aaron's] seeing [Moshe] and rejoicing in his heart, Aaron merited that the Choshen of Judgment would be on his heart."
Talmud, Shabbat 139a

It seems that the placement of the twelve tribes on the Kohen Gadol's heart is a symbol of his selfless, brotherly love for the entire nation. But what is the secret of the Choshen of Judgment? What will stop people from judging others negatively? How can we ensure that all twelve tribes are held securely against our hearts? What will prevent personal agendas from getting in the way of love for the nation? The answer is obvious: Strap the nation on your shoulders!

If we place all twelve tribes on our shoulders, if we step up to the plate and take responsibility for the Jewish People, if we lift up the names of the Children of Israel and carry them proudly, then we can be sure that the Choshen of Judgment will never sway from our hearts. Such was the message of the holy garments of the Kohen Gadol.

What do your clothes say?

The Holy Essentials

2008-02-22T10:43:00.000-08:00

The flow of the Torah’s thinking in the beginning of this week’s parsha is a bit mysterious. First we are introduced to the chief architect of the Mishkan, the talented Betzalel. The Torah reiterates every component of the Mishkan and instructs Betzalel and his team to put their creative artistry into the creation of each piece. Surprisingly, this is immediately followed by the mitzvah of Shabbat:

But keep My Shabbats. It is a sign between Me and you for all generations, to make you realize that I, God, am making you holy…The Israelites shall thus keep the Shabbat, making it a day of rest for all generations, as an eternal covenant.
Shemot 31:13,16

What does Shabbat have to do with the Mishkan?

This juxtaposition of the Mishkan with Shabbat is not at all coincidental. When the Torah prohibits “work” on Shabbat (31:14,15) it is speaking of exactly the same type of work that was just referred to in the construction of the Mishkan a few verses earlier (Talmud Shabbat 49b). There are two points here. Firstly, the construction of the Mishkan itself must be halted on Shabbat (Rashi to 31:13). Second, the Torah is defining for us the forbidden labors of Shabbat. There were thirty-nine different actions needed to construct the Mishkan and these are the categories of work that we are to rest from on the day of Shabbat (Mishnah Shabbat 7:2).

If we are to understand what Shabbat is about, we need to take a closer look at these thirty-nine labors. They seem to divide neatly into three sets. The first set contains all the actions necessary to produce the natural plant dyes for the Mishkan. It starts from the very beginning: plowing, planting, harvesting, etc. The second set contains all the actions necessary to produce the woven and leather curtains of the Mishkan. This set includes two different processes: the process of creating woolen textiles, and the process of curing hides. In the final set, we have the acts of construction itself: building, transporting materials, hammering, etc. Stated differently, these thirty-nine actions are about the production of food, clothing, and shelter – the essential acts of human survival! This is what we are being told not do on the Shabbat.

What is the significance of the fact that the work that we are to refrain from on the Shabbat is the same as the acts of Mishkan construction? And what is the significance of the fact that these just happen to be the things that people need to do to survive? What is the underlying message here?

The Mishkan is more than just a home for the Divine Presence on Earth; it provides a model for man. If God’s Presence can rest in a building, it must certainly be able to enter the heart of a Jew. As the Malbim (1809-1879) writes, “We should all build a personal sanctuary for the Divine Presence within the halls of our hearts” (commentary to Shemot 25:8). In other words, the Mishkan represents the potential of man. It follows that the construction of the Mishkan symbolizes the spiritual construction of the human self.

Of course, the primary tools a Jew utilizes in the construction of his personal Mishkan are mitzvot. However, we do not build with mitzvot alone. Look at the Mishkan: none of the processes of Mishkan construction are mitzvot – they are just simple acts like plowing and planting. And it is specifically these simple, voluntary acts that cannot be done on Shabbat. In fact, if one of these acts would happen to be a biblical obligation, there would no prohibition to do it on Shabbat! This surprising Halacha is derived from a verse near the end of our parsha:

You may work during the six weekdays, but on the seventh day you must stop. You must stop plowing and reaping.
Shemot 34:21

Why are the examples of plowing and reaping given here? In the Mishnah, Rabbi Yishmael explains our verse with the help of some classical Midrashic-style exegesis:

Rabbi Yishmael said, “Just like plowing is [always] voluntary, so too is the reaping voluntary. This excludes the reaping of the Omer [grain].”
Shevi’it 1:4

Our verse is not just giving examples; it is qualifying the Shabbat prohibition against working. All thirty-nine forbidden labors are only forbidden if they are like plowing – i.e. a perfectly voluntary act. (There is no such thing as an obligation to plow.) If one of the labors should happen to be a mitzvah – like the mitzvah to reap grain for the Omer offering – then it would not be included in the prohibition. (Careful here, this does not give license to drive to Shul or call your mother on Shabbat! It is only an act that the Torah explicitly specifies as an obligation that is permitted – and reaping the Omer is the sole example. Sorry.)

The Torah is underscoring what we already know – it is only “simple,” non-mitzvah acts that are forbidden on Shabbat. But, of course, the thirty-nine labors are not simple at all – they are the acts of Mishkan construction and the work we need to do to survive. The message is clear. Our Mishkan must be built with our non-mitzvah behavior! The Shechina enters man only when all of man’s actions, even the most basic and necessary, are beautiful and holy. If we conduct our “mundane” weekday activities with honesty, decency, and integrity, using the Torah as our guide, we transform ourselves into a sanctuary, a living Mishkan for God.

This is all very nice. However, on Shabbat we do not engage in construction, not the construction of the Mishkan nor the construction of the self. Why not? Because on Shabbat our work is complete and we are complete. Our Mishkan is standing and the Shechina has arrived. Shabbat is not the time to build; Shabbat is the time to celebrate the Shabbat day, appreciate the gift of life and welcome the presence of the Shechina.

But keep My Shabbats. It is a sign between Me and you for all generations, to make you realize that I, God, am making you holy.
Exodus 31:13

A Word Is Worth a Thousand Pictures

2008-02-08T12:59:00.000-08:00

In this week's parsha, God commands us to build Him a home, a sanctuary called the Mishkan. What a strange mitzvah! Why on earth does God need a home? Are the desert nights getting cold? The whole idea of a house for God is ridiculous. As the Midrash says, “When God said, 'Build a sanctuary for Me,' Moshe countered, 'But the heavens and the highest heavens cannot contain You! (I Kings 8:27)'” (Bamidbar Rabba 12:3).

Rabbi Chaim Volozhner (1749-1821) explains what it’s all about:

God is saying the following: "Let no one make the mistake of thinking that My intent in the construction of the sanctuary is about the physical building itself. Not at all. Rather, you should know that the sole objective of the Mishkan and its furniture is to indicate to you to learn from it and model yourselves after it. Your own behavior should be as wonderful as the Mishkan and its furniture, completely holy and worthy of the Divine Presence." This is the meaning of the verse, "They shall make me a sanctuary and I will dwell among them..." (Shemot 25:8).
Nefesh HaChaim 1:4

The Mishkan is merely a model. When a Jew experienced the power of the Shechina’s presence in the Mishkan, he said to himself, “If God can enter this building, He must certainly be able to enter me.” God is prepared to rest His divine presence within us, but we must first develop ourselves into living sanctuaries. If we build it, He will come.

It would serve us well to take a closer look at how the Mishkan was constructed. If we are to model our own inner sanctuaries after the Mishkan, we obviously need to study the blueprints. Unfortunately, there are none. The Torah provides no diagrams, no illustrations, not even a sketch. The entire Mishkan is described only in words. Many words.

The parsha describes the Mishkan and its furniture in mind-numbing detail. From materials and dimensions to artistic flourishes and color, virtually every aspect of the design is mandated. Intricate tapestries woven with yarn blended from three kinds of wool and one kind of linen; decorative cups, spheres and flowers; cherubs with their wings just so; plated beams and crossbars; silver sockets; golden hooks, the list goes on and on. The parsha is ninety-six verses long (not bad, as parshiot go), but without question, one picture would have saved our people many tons of ink and parchment through the years. As the old adage says, a picture is worth a thousand words. Today, architects and designers use drawings to communicate their ideas. Why does the Torah insist on using words when a simple sketch would do?

You can’t be serious, you say. God speaks; He doesn’t use PowerPoint! However, the truth is, God did use images to communicate the Mishkan’s design. The Torah says as much quite explicitly:

You shall set up the Mishkan in the proper manner, as you were shown on the mountain [of Sinai]…
Shemot 26:30; cf. 25:9,40; 27:8

Now, if God showed Moshe a model of the Mishkan up on Sinai, why wasn’t that image incorporated into the Torah? If that question doesn’t trouble you, this one will: Why bother with all the words at all? After all, when it came down to it, it was the images in Moshe’s head that guided construction, not the Torah’s words.

“It was on the day that Moshe finished erecting the Mishkan…” – Betzalel and Oheliav and all the artisans made the Mishkan (cf. Shemot 36:1), and the Torah credits Moshe?! It is because he devoted himself to observe the forms of every item the way he was shown on Mt. [Sinai], in order to instruct those who constructed it. He didn’t make a mistake on any form.
Rashi to Bamidbar 7:1; Tanchuma 13

If the final arbiter of the Mishkan’s design was not the verses of the Torah, but the image that God showed Moshe on Sinai, why does the Torah even attempt to spell it all out? We have the perfect precedent in the mitzvah of Tefillin. When it comes to Tefillin, the Torah gives us just a few vague words. “Bind it as a sign on your hand and let them be totafot between your eyes” (Devarim 6:8; cf. Shemot 13:9). “Totafot”? What is it made of? What should it look like? The Torah does not say; it relies on the image God showed Moshe on Mt. Sinai, and to this very day, there is no debate about what Tefillin are. Why didn’t the Torah treat the Mishkan the same way? God could have simply said “Build Me a sanctuary” and relied on Moshe to relay the details. Why all the words? Before we can answer this question, we need to take a brief detour.

Everybody knows there are 613 mitzvot in the Torah. Sounds like a lot, but the Gaon of Vilna (R. Eliyahu Kramer, 1720-1797) argues that this popular Talmudic tradition is actually an understatement. Are we to believe that from Bereishit all the way to parshat Bo there are no more than three mitzvot? Some parshiot have none at all. Have they nothing to say?

The Vilna Gaon teaches that every single word of the Torah is actually its own mitzvah. 613 may be the number of primary mitzvot, but each one branches out into many, many more, covering every aspect of life. On some level, all of human behavior can potentially become “mitzvah.” The formula is simple: Whatever you do, if you do it right, you fulfill God’s will. A sensitive reading of the Torah teaches us how.

When the Mishkan’s parts were complete and it was time to put it all together, the Torah stresses how each component was put in place “as God commanded Moshe.” In fact, the Torah repeats that description every step of the way:

“It was in the first month of the second year on the first of the month that the Mishkan was erected. Moshe erected the Mishkan… as G-d had commanded Moshe.
“He brought the Ark into the Mishkan… as God had commanded Moshe.
“He put the Table in the Tent of Meeting… as God had commanded Moshe.
“He placed the Menorah in the Tent of Meeting… as God had commanded Moshe.
“He placed the Gold Altar in the Tent of Meeting… as God had commanded Moshe…”
Shemot 40:17-32

And so on. The Torah is not just being verbose; it is making a critical point. Every single act in the construction of the Mishkan was its own mitzvah. God didn’t just hand them a diagram and say, “Build this.” That would be only one mitzvah. Instead, God spelled out every stage of construction as an independent command, making each act an independent fulfillment of God’s will. Only with a constant stream of mitzvot can God’s sanctuary be built.

People are no different. If we want God’s presence to rest within us, we need to create a space where God can be comfortable. This is the mission of the Jew: to sanctify the mundane, to elevate all of life into mitzvah, and ultimately become a living, breathing Mishkan.

Yes, God does desire a house on earth - a house of flesh and blood.

The Gift of Yitro

2008-01-25T12:38:00.000-08:00

Last week, the Jews crossed the Red Sea. This week, they come to Sinai and hear the Ten Commandments. But before we get to Sinai, the storyline is interrupted. Our parsha begins with the visit of Yitro, Moshe’s father-in-law, who reunites Moshe with his family and suggests that the Jews set up a judicial system to alleviate Moshe’s workload. It is only after Yitro returns home to Midian that the parsha turns to the national preparations for the revelation at Sinai and then finally climaxes with the Ten Commandments.

The Yitro interlude is odd on several levels. First of all, we are in the middle of telling the Exodus story here – why allow visiting relatives to interrupt? (The Torah is not religious about keeping things chronological; this story could have easily been saved for later.) Moreover, why do we need a Midianite to come up with the idea of hiring judges? The Jews are a smart people; they couldn’t think of this one on their own? And if this really is such a good idea, why didn’t God tell them to do it? Lastly, why is this most important parsha named for Yitro? Is this merely coincidental? Or does it allude to something deeper?

It seems that, somehow, Sinai needed Yitro. Yitro must have contributed something that made the Ten Commandments possible, something that could not have come from anyone else besides him. Now we need to figure out what that thing was.

When Yitro arrives, he sees crowds of Jews standing in line all day waiting to receive guidance from Moshe. Yitro recognizes the inefficiency of this system and he offers Moshe some constructive criticism.

“What you are doing is not good! You are going to wear yourself out, along with the people that are with you. Your responsibility is too great. You cannot do it alone.
“Now listen to me. I will give you advice, and God will be with you. You must be God’s representative for the people, and bring [their] concerns to God. Clarify the decrees and laws [for the people]. Show them the path they must take and the things they must do.
“But you must [also] seek out from among all the people competent, God-fearing men – men of truth, who hate injustice. You must then appoint them [over the people] as leaders… Let them administer justice for the people…”
Shemot 18:17-22

It seems simple enough. Moshe and the Jews like the idea (Devarim 1:12-14), God concurs (Shemot 17:23-24) and it’s a done deal. But this concept of judges is actually a lot more radical, and a lot more dangerous, than we imagine.

[Moshe said to the people,] “Your personal interests decided this matter for you. You should have said, ‘Our master Moshe, from whom is it preferable to learn? From you or from your student? Isn’t it [better to learn] from you, since you suffered for it?’ But I know what you were thinking. You said to yourselves, ‘Now that they’ll be appointing many judges over us, if [a judge] doesn’t favor us, we’ll give him a gift and he will favor us.’”
Sifrei 14; Rashi to Devarim 1:14

Taking the law out of Moshe’s hands creates a weakness in the system. While Moshe’s integrity is unassailable and the authenticity of his rulings is unquestioned, the same cannot be said for every judge. To ask Moshe to delegate was something no Jew would ever dare to do. It took Moshe’s father-in-law, an outsider whose reverence for Moshe did not approach those who witnessed the Exodus, to suggest the hiring of judges. The Jews went along with it; but even that was cause for rebuke.

Let’s turn now to the Ten Commandments. From a safe distance of three millennia, it is easy for us to romanticize the Revelation at Sinai. What could be more beautiful than experiencing God? However, for the Jews who were there, there was nothing romantic about it. It was terrifying and traumatic, and they begged Moshe to make it stop.

“Today we have seen that when God speaks to man, he can still survive. Now, why should we die? Why should this great fire consume us? If we hear the voice of God our Lord anymore, we will die!”
Devarim 5:21-22

The Jews desperately wanted the revelation to stop, but they were also interested in what God had to say. They came up with a plan and presented it to Moshe.

“You approach and listen to all God our Lord says. You can then tell us whatever God our Lord tells you, and when we hear it, we will do it.”
Ibid 5:24

It seems that the Jews would have heard more directly from God, but it was too much for them to take. Frightened that they would die, the Jews interrupted the transmission and asked that instead Moshe serve as their ambassador. God was not upset by this proposal; on the contrary, He seconds the plan in this communication to Moshe.

“I have heard what this nation has said to you. They have spoken well. If only their hearts would always remain this way, where they are in such awe of Me…
“Go tell them to return to their tents. You, however, must remain here with Me and I will tell you all the mitzvot, decrees and laws that you shall teach them…”
Ibid 5:25-28

The idea was a good one; in fact, it was exactly what God had intended. God wanted the Torah to be transmitted orally through Moshe, for that was to be the primary method of Torah transmission for all time. But this could not happen by divine decree; the Jews had to come up with this idea on their own.

To God’s mind, this was a primary purpose of the revelation. The Jews needed to feel the heat and experience for themselves why Torah requires humans – prophets, sages and rabbis – to serve as intermediaries. But the Jews would never have dared tell God to delegate – if not for Yitro.

Yitro introduced the radical idea that Judaism is not just about faith in God; it is about faith in man. In order for Torah and its justice system to function, trusting humans is necessary. Indeed, this is a central tenant of Judaism. Trust Jews. Our religion depends on it.

Invasion of the Mind Snatcher

2008-01-11T11:44:00.000-08:00

Everyone knows the story. Even if you haven’t read the book, you probably saw the movie. Devastating plagues, death of the first born, Jews are rushed out, etc. However, there is one question about the Exodus that few dare to ask. Did the Jews really deserve to be saved?

The Midrash is not afraid to raise this uncomfortable question and its conclusion is… no. The Jews did not deserve freedom. (Or, at least, they did not deserve the miracles necessary to get them out.) In as much as God wanted to punish their oppressors, the Jews were stuck in Egypt until they earned the right to an Exodus. In other words, the Jews were in desperate need of a few good mitzvot.

R. Masyah ben Charash said, “The verse states, ‘I (God) passed over you, and I saw you, and behold, your time was a time of loving’ (Yechezkel 16:8). The time has come for the [fulfillment of the] oath I made to Avraham to redeem his children, but they have no mitzvot to perform to be [worthy] of being redeemed! This is the meaning of the verse, ‘…and you were naked and bare’ (ibid 16:7). [You were] naked of mitzvot. [God] therefore gave them two mitzvot: the blood of the Paschal lamb (Shemot 12:7) and the blood of circumcision (Shemot 12:48)…
Mechilta Bo 5; Rashi 12:6

The Midrash is saying that the Jews got the mitzvot of the Paschal lamb and Brit Milah before they left Egypt because they needed these mitzvot in order to get out. The concept is a compelling one, but it raises two questions. First of all, what’s the deal with all the blood? And second, what is it about these mitzvot that makes the Jews worthy of freedom?

It would take a great Kabbalist to divine the full answer to our questions, but personally, I am satisfied with a very simple observation. These two mitzvot are hard. Bloody hard.

The difficulty of circumcision is self-evident, but the Paschal lamb was no picnic either. Lambs were sacred to the Egyptians. To kill one and eat it was to commit a sacrilege – and no one knew this better than Moshe himself.

After plague number four, when Egypt was attacked by hordes of wild animals, Pharaoh summoned Moshe and Aaron to the palace.

“Go!” he said. “[You have permission] to sacrifice to your God here in [our] land.”
“That would not be proper,” replied Moshe. “What we will sacrifice to God our Lord is sacred to the Egyptians. Could we sacrifice the sacred animal of the Egyptians before their very eyes and not have them stone us? What we must do is make a three day journey into the desert…”
8:22-23

Moshe rejected the possibility of slaughtering sheep in Egypt; it was just too dangerous. But God commands the Jews to do just that!

Circumcision and slaughtering a lamb are two things that the Jews would never think of doing on their own – and that is why they are the perfect mitzvot for earning freedom. By choosing to do these mitzvot, the Jewish ex-slaves flexed their spiritual muscles, exercised their free will, and demonstrated their ability to rise above self-interest. It was this self-sacrifice for mitzvot, this allegorical blood, which made the Jews worthy of the Exodus and primed them for the covenant at Sinai.

In contrast with the heroic Jews, we have Pharaoh. Once the powerful king of the Egyptian Empire, the Pharaoh of Bo is a pathetic figure. In our parsha, we actually watch the man fade away into nothingness. Due to a series of unnatural disasters, his country is ruined and his approval rating hits rock bottom. But the situation is more frightening than that. Not only has Pharaoh lost control of his country, he has also lost control of his mind.

God said to Moshe, “Go to Pharaoh. I have made his heart stubborn…”

10:1

Pharaoh may have wanted to let the Jews free, but God forced him to say no. God invaded Pharaoh’s mind and seized control of his decision making process. In effect, Pharaoh is dead. What remains is nothing more than a puppet of God.

The Egyptians fared no better. Right before the Exodus, God told the Jews to “borrow” valuables from the Egyptians.

God said to Moshe, “Please speak in the ears of the people: Let each man request from his fellow and each woman from her fellow gold and silver articles…
11:2

It’s fine to ask, but why would any Egyptian in their right mind give stuff to the escaping slaves? The answer is that they were not in their right minds.

God made the Egyptians like the [Jewish] people, and they granted their request. [The Jews] thus drained Egypt [of its wealth].
12:35

The Mind Snatcher strikes again! Just like He did to Pharaoh, God invades the minds of the Egyptians and makes them do something they really, really don’t want to do.

What is going on here? Is this God’s idea of a practical joke? Actually, right from the start, the parsha promised us an entertaining show.

God said to Moshe, “Go to Pharaoh. I have made him and his advisors stubborn… so you can tell your children and your grandchildren how I made a laughingstock out of Egypt…”
10:1-2

God’s mind control games may be funny (in a slapstick kind of way), but God is quite serious here. The extraordinary power and wealth of ancient Egypt corrupted Pharaoh and his people. They allowed self-interest - the drive for cheap labor and a strong economy - to overrun basic morality. They abused their power and trampled on the human rights of the Jews. They became evil.

The Egyptians had their fun for a time, but one day, the God of Justice arrives. He devastates Egypt with ten plagues, and relieves the Egyptians of their slaves and their valuables. And then God takes away the most valuable thing of all – free will.

God is telling us something here. Our decision making process, our innate moral compass, our unique ability to choose, in short, our bloody humanness, is a divine gift. Treasure it, nurture it, exercise it and strengthen it with mitzvot. Because if you don’t, you may very well lose it.

"Let Us Make (Snow) Man"

2007-12-26T17:31:00.000-08:00

On the East Coast winter has set in. We find ourselves once again standing tipee-toed stretching and feeling for that second glove up in back of the closet. Every woosh and click of the front door seems to carry in a moan of relief and a statement of "just how cold it really is out there" all expressed to the rhythmical stomping of boots on the front mat. The kitchen seems warmer and more inviting filled with the smell of all things baked, braised and starchy. The throw-blanket on the couch is rediscovered (along with that book that was lost underneath it) as is velvety sweet honey which now finishes our nightly tea. Yet it's the beeping of the Robutusm, Ludins and Puffs passing over the checkout which reminds us that not only is winter here, it's here for a fight.

We know that nature is a a most basic form of prophecy. So what's winter whispering to our souls? Of course to each one of us it whispers its own message, but to us as a whole what's it saying?

The Talmud states:
"All is in the hands of Heaven - Save the Cold and the Heat"

Elsewhere The Talmud States:
"All is in the hands of Heaven - Save The Fear of Heaven"

The questions are many and obvious.

Through Kaballah we are taught that the stem of the soul in its highest form in the highest world is rooted in two G-dly attributes , Love and Fear. The attribute of Love is represented in our world, the lowest world, the world of asyia by Fire - the heat of passion driving us to express and create. Fear tho is represented by water - the cooling intellect restraining our actions.

Free Will, Heat, Cold, all left in man's hands alone.

The cold season of winter is surely the season of intellect. A time of learning , study, contemplation and honing of the mind so it may lead us in the service of G-d. Its no coincidence that it's in this very time of year that we add a special passage in the daily prayer requesting rain - which represents Torah learning as expressed by Moses Our Teacher "May my teachings fall like rain" (Deut. 32-2).

Winter is not the season for sowing or reaping, cutting or threshing - nature tells us to head inside our homes and ourselves. To take some quiet time with a "Gluz Tae" - a glass of tea. Simply, think, learn study and build a better human infrastructure - so when the spring comes around the seeds planted in the winter will burst forth to beautiful blossoms.

Of course any extreme has its dangers and winter is no exception. A dose of heat is required - but the general direction is introspection - and the Great Chassidic Masters took from the Goanim a secret that these winter weeks were a special time that the gates of change were opened, a timed they named "shovovim" or "returning".

We all know that on the second day of creation G-d split the water, there were the waters that above in the heavens and the water below in the oceans. The water of the oceans cried to Heaven - "L-rd it is unfair we are so far from you", Heaven responded "There will come a time when man will bring sacrifices to me on the alter in the Temple , and he will be required to place with it salt that comes from your waters".

The two waters represent the two types of knowledge, the knowledge of Heaven and knowledge of earth.
The earthly knowledge said - "I'm so far from you"
"In this lowly world, what type of knowledge is there? We are so far from G-d who's hidden behind endless veils - even Moses the greatest prophet was told he cold not see the face of G-d and live! Even when a Jew struggles and wants to do the right thing he isn't sure what to do' "Givald!" said Knowledge," I'm so far from you!
Heaven answered - "You are right, earthly knowledge has severe limitations what people think is right could be so wrong and vise verse - but I made it so, earthly knowledge is not about attaining absolute truth, its about the quest and relentless pursuit to find it. Earthly knowledge has to nullify itself before the knowledge of Heavenly Torah - only through this "hisbatlus" nullification - or evaporation does the salt emerge to be brought on the Holy Alter.

So it's winter, and a time for collecting holy heavenly knowledge - we push aside all our earthly ideas of right and wrong - of sensible and nonsensical and open ourselves up to the wellspring of Torah Knowledge - as the snowflakes fall passed our windows - we are bent over our holy books and like the seeds sleeping in the ground, gaining nutrients and growing stronger - waiting for spring to awaken and put out new found selves into play.

The Unlikely Leader

2007-12-26T11:55:00.000-08:00

“Jewish leadership” is currently very much in vogue. On university campuses and in JCCs around the country, seminars and “fellowships” are sprouting up that will train you in the art of being a “Jewish leader.” I doubt two Jews in America could even agree on the definition of a “Jewish leader,” but regardless, a case could be made that that signing up for one of these courses automatically disqualifies you. If Moshe is any guide, the ideal Jewish leader is someone who has no interest in being one. However, to be honest, this kind of cynicism is unwarranted. As we shall see, Moshe’s disinterest in Jewish leadership is not something we should aspire to.

It took God a lot of work at the Burning Bush to convince Moshe to go to Egypt and redeem the Jews. In the end, God succeeds and Moshe takes the job. Moshe was riding his donkey, headed for Egypt, when God appeared with one final message.

Tell Pharaoh, “God says, ‘Israel is My firstborn son. Send out My son so he can serve Me. For if you refuse to send him, I will kill your firstborn son.’”
4:23
“My firstborn son” – Here God signed on the sale of the birthright that Yaakov purchased from Eisav (cf. Bereishit 25:33).
Rashi ad loc.; Midrash Rabba 63:14

After all these years, nay, centuries, it is only now that God validates the sale of the birthright?! What has taken so long? And what is it about Moshe’s journey to Egypt that generates this most critical divine act of signing on the sale? This is a difficult Midrash. In order to understand it, we need to take a small step back.

In the book of Bereishit, the Torah reveals next to nothing about the early lives of Noach and Avraham. The wisdom of God’s choice is borne out by their successes, but we are not told why they were chosen in the first place. When it comes to Moshe, however, things are different. The Torah provides a full bio of his early life and it is quite impressive. Here’s a synopsis.

Moshe was born at a bad time. The Jews were enslaved and oppressed, and by law, all newborn boys had to be thrown in the Nile. When his parents couldn’t hide him anymore, they put him in a basket and set it afloat in the reeds by the riverbank. Discovered by none other than Pharaoh’s own daughter, she takes the baby out of the river, names him “Moshe,” and adopts him.

Moshe grows up. One day, going out to check on his brethren, Moshe sees an Egyptian beating a Jew. Thinking that no one is watching, Moshe kills the Egyptian and hides the body. The next day, Moshe goes out again. Seeing two Jews fighting, he confronts them. “Why do you hit your friend?” he asks. “Who appointed you an officer or a judge over us?” came the reply. “Do you intend to kill me the same way you killed the Egyptian?” The word was out! The Jews had reported on Moshe and now he is wanted for murder. Moshe flees the country.

Arriving in Midian, Moshe sees the local shepherds abusing some girls at a watering hole. He intercedes, saves the maidens and draws water for their sheep. The girls’ father invites him for dinner and Moshe ends up marrying Tzippora and working as a shepherd for his father-in-law. Guiding his flock one day in the desert, he sees a burning bush. God has come to ask him to return to Egypt and redeem the Jews.

There we have it. Moshe is a man who will kill to defend his brethren. Even as an immigrant, he is not afraid to challenge the locals and fight for what is just and right. God chose a bona fide hero.

Moshe may have a great résumé, but if you think about it, he is an unlikely candidate for a savior of the Jews. First of all, he grew up in an Egyptian home, not a Jewish one. Second, Moshe was burned once helping the Jews. He saved a Jew, killing an Egyptian at great personal risk, only to have Jews tattle on him to the authorities (cf. Rashi to 2:15). Thirdly, his last experience with the Jews was watching some violent infighting and then, when he tried to intervene, they told him off. Moreover, Moshe is wanted in Egypt for murder. Today he is a happily married man; a citizen of Midian. He would have to be crazy to return to Egypt!

Nevertheless, at the Burning Bush, God asks him to go. In light of the above, Moshe’s response is not surprising.

Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh? And that I should take the Children of Israel out of Egypt?
Shemot 3:11

Moshe is making two points here. The first is easy enough to understand; Moshe is a humble man who has no idea why he is being chosen for this momentous task. But what is the meaning of Moshe’s second question? Rashi explains.

“And that I should take the Children of Israel out of Egypt?” – [In other words,] even if I am up to the task, why do the Jews merit a miraculous redemption from Egypt?

That’s a negative attitude, but keeping Moshe’s personal history in mind, it is understandable. Long ago, when he saw Jew fight against Jew, Moshe came to know why the Jews were enslaved.

“Indeed, the matter is known!”
2:14
“Now I know the answer [to the question] I have long wondered about. What sin did the Jews commit that they alone from among all the seventy nations are subjected to slave labor? But now I see that they deserve it.”
Rashi ad loc.; Tanchuma 10

Moshe’s negativity does not end there. God and Moshe go through several volleys at the Bush; Moshe simply does not want the job. At one point, he says this:

They won’t believe me… they’ll say, “God never appeared to you!”
4:1

Not only does Moshe consider the Jews unworthy of redemption, he accuses them of cynicism as well. The mocking words, “Who appointed you an officer or a judge over us?” still burn in his ears. But here God drew the line:

God said to him, “What is that in your hand?”
“A staff,” he replied.
“Throw it on the ground.”
He threw it on the ground and it turned into a snake.
4:2-3
[God] was alluding to the fact that [Moshe] had just spoken Lashon Hara about the Jews. He had taken up the profession of the snake.
Rashi ad loc.; Tanchuma 23

Despite all his misgivings, Moshe takes the job. Not because he is promised riches or land and not because God forces him to do it. Simply because the Jews are his brothers.

This provides another stark contrast with Noach and Avraham. When God told Noach to build an ark, Noach asked no questions. When God told Avraham to sacrifice his son, Avraham says, “Hineini,” i.e., “Here I am, ready to do your bidding.” But when God instructs Moshe to return to Egypt and save the Jews, a discussion ensues. Apparently, God does not want to order Moshe to do it; God wants Moshe to want to do it. And when, in the end, Moshe mounts his donkey and heads for Egypt, God signs on Yaakov’s purchase of the birthright and declares the Jews His “firstborn.” Why?

Because Moshe does not allow his experience with a few bad apples to extinguish his feelings for the Jewish Nation. Ultimately it is Moshe’s deep-seated love and respect for the Jews that drives him to take on the responsibilities of leadership. And if a Jewish child who was raised by Egyptians can still love his brethren, if one who was betrayed and insulted by his own people still cares, if a man could leave the comforts of home to return to a land where he is wanted for murder in order to perform a mitzvah, if, after all he had been through, Moshe was still so authentically Jewish, then the sale of the birthright was indeed a success. For in Moshe we have living proof that Yaakov’s descendants are the carriers of the exalted Abrahamic gene.

This is why God chose Moshe, and this is why God needed Moshe to willingly embrace the mission. There may have been other candidates. But there was no one else who could prove the existence of the pintele yid.

I'll Pass on the Cocoa

2007-12-23T18:19:00.000-08:00

"Turn Back Turn Back Perfect One, Turn Back Turn Back That We May Observe You"
"What Can You Offer the Perfect One that Equals the Circling of the Camps?"
(Song of Songs 7:1)

It's that time of year when our mailboxes are flooded with catalogs selling enough nostalgia to make Norman Rockwell a bit cynical. Happy children on a rug in front of the fireplace playing with their new found gifts, parents in cozy sweaters smiling at each other... the perfect family... Rockefeller Center skating, Macy's window on Fifth Ave... even the snow, an extra shade of white.. in the spirit of the purity of the day...the holiday songs seemed to be playing at Temple Starbucks before the turkey was even carved ... it's just so beautiful.

So alluring is this image that one bright Jewish chap and his girlfriend decided to keep the commercialized version of the Holiday last year and write about it in the New York Times. The article was labeled "silly", "stupid" and "sad" by most reader's, but this year Id like to call it what it is - a sickening betrayal.

In the not too distant past Jews would surely bolt their doors and hide, for when Christmas Mass was over - the angry mobs were ready to avenge the death of their Lord's only son. Over the course of history the blood of hundreds and thousands of Jews spilled like water, the ground ran deep with the blood of our own . Old helpless men and woman struck down and beaten to death, young men and their sons were slain, woman and their daughters raped and killed... there was no mercy for our people .. no mercy for our people .. no mercy at all.... the cocoa drinkers celebrated the birth of their saviour by avenging his death... from people that lived thousands of years later...

Yet we, less than two hundred years after the slaughterings of our own family, forgive and forget... for what? For the promise of hot cocoa and a cashmere sweater...

Am I calling for revenge, shall we G-d Forbid take swords in our hands and strike babes from their mother's arms and slit their throats as the mother's cry in horror only to join a similar fate moments later - as was done to us - NEVER!! G-d Forbid!

But how dare we forget the darkness of the day - the impurity of the day.. in an age of multiculturalism we are all expected to hold hands and sing... Less than sixty five years ago.. the church sat by and let your grandfathers, your grandmothers, your uncles and your aunts be led to the slaughter in the Camps. They sat by in front of the fireplace drinking cocoa in cashmere sweaters with sweet holiday songs playing joyfully in the background... so beautiful... while the cries of six million, think about the number, six million were slaughtered. Their cries ignored by a church that knew quite well what was going on... holy night... peaceful night....

So what is this crazy blogger saying? Whats his point? He's a fanatic, he's old fashion, he's just trying to be shocking. Givald I'd love to be able shock some people from their crazy hypnotic slumber... I'm begging you that this year on Dec. 25 perhaps after dark ... take your children, and tell them our story of this night... how Zeidys and Bubbys were slaughtered after Midnight Mass but they died with the name of Hashem on their lips...how the modest daughters of Zion in protection of their purity jumped from windows rather than be defiled by the animals... how young scholars died clutching their seforim, their holy books... tell your children how lucky we are to live in this land, how grateful we must be to the United States and to G-d, that tonight we can wear a kippa, tzitzis and learn Torah.... then open any Jewish book of your choosing and learn for five little minutes... learn in memory of those killed by the sword.. so we wont have to mourn those lost to the promise of hot cocoa and cashmere sweaters...

In the verse sited above... the commentator Rashi explains that it refers to the nations of the world asking the children of Israel to turn back from the service of G-d and promising us peace and honor- We answer "what can you offer us that equals the circling of the camps" - to me tonight the meaning is - the Camps of Auschwitz and Burchanu. What little trinkets, what imagery can you lure us with when we saw what you truly let happen to us... when we were round up like animals, shot, gassed, burned and eliminated like dung - cast into pits. Tonight we'll stay with our G-d and with our own people, and for the memory of Zaidy and Bubby, the six million, and the thousands throughout history that died at the cross - I'll pass on the cocoa tonight.

Playing God

2007-12-14T14:14:00.000-08:00

A question hangs over our story. It is a burning question and an obvious one, but the answer does not yield easily.

When the sons of Yaakov arrive at Yosef’s door in search of food, instead of revealing his identity and openly confronting their unresolved issues, Yosef decides to play games. He accuses them of spying and demands that they prove their innocence by bringing Binyomin down to Egypt (42:9-15). This is just the first stage of an elaborate scheme that both confounds and torments the entire family for months. Finally, in this week’s parsha, Yosef reveals his identity (45:2).

Why does Yosef pull this cruel prank on his brothers? Is his thirst for revenge so intense that it bulldozes any concern for his own father’s distress? When did the caring Yosef (cf. 40:7) become so heartless?

Even revenge does not suffice to explain Yosef’s behavior. If it is revenge that he is after, Yosef ought to simply throw them all in the dungeon. Moreover, if Yosef is indulging in sweet revenge, he should be enjoying it, not constantly breaking down in tears (cf. 42:23; 43:30).

What is the idea of shlepping Binyomin down to Egypt (42:15)? This seems to be a cruelty aimed directly at the innocent Yaakov (42:38). And what of the planting of the money in their packs (42:25)? Or the framing of Binyomin as a thief (44:2)? What in heaven’s name is Yosef doing?

The answer to all these questions is that Yosef is orchestrating a Teshuvah opportunity for his brothers. At the end of last week’s parsha, Binyomin stood accused of theft (44:12). Yosef claimed Binyomin as a slave and, in the last words of the parsha, told the other brothers to return “to their father in peace.” The crime scene of twenty years ago has reappeared. The brothers can once again eliminate their father’s favorite son!

The brothers sold Yosef because they feared that history would repeat itself. Just as Yitzchak wanted to give the berachot (birthright blessings) to his favorite son Eisav (25:28; 26:1-4), the brothers expected Yaakov to pass the berachot on to his favorite son, the child of his beloved deceased wife Rachel (37:3). And just as Yaakov had “stolen” the berachot away from his brother Eisav, so too would the immature, power-hungry Yosef attempt to do the same. Yosef was a threat and so they eliminated him – only to create a new monster, Binyomin. Binyomin was the new Yosef, his father’s overprotected favorite. (Just like Yosef before him, Binyomin must stay home when all his brothers go out to work, cf. 37:14; 42:4.) The brothers are terrified that Binyomin will steal the berachot and now their fears have been confirmed. Binyomin is indeed a thief! But it is no surprise, really. It runs in the family.

Years back, as Yaakov was leaving the house of Lavan, Rachael stole her father’s Teraphim, pagan articles used for divination. Lavan took chase, and soon caught up with Yaakov and accused him of theft. Unaware that Rachel had stolen the Teraphim, Yaakov said that whoever stole them should die (31:32). Our story is identical. The brothers are leaving Egypt and Yosef sends his officer to take chase. He catches up with them and accuses them of stealing Yosef’s goblet. Unaware that it is in Binyomin’s pack, the brothers exclaim, “If any of us (lit. your servants) has it in his possession, he shall die!” (44:8). According to the Midrash, the parallels to the past do not escape the brothers’ notice. When the goblet is found in Binyomin’s pack, they yell at him, “You take after your mother!” (Midrash HaGadol).

What Yosef has done here is reinforce the brothers' fear of a thieving Binyomin running off with Yaakov’s precious berachot. And now the brothers have a choice. They can eliminate Binyomin without even getting their hands dirty. Or they can protect him.

Yosef left room for the brothers to deny Binyomin’s indictment. Before they went back to Israel to get Binyomin, Yosef returned their money to their packs (42:25). His overseer later claimed that it was a gift from God (43:23), but the brothers knew the truth. They did not understand why, but they knew that Yosef must have done it. Now that Yosef’s goblet was found in Binyomin’s pack, the brothers were forced to consider the possibility that Yosef had planted it there. On the one hand, they have a suspected thief with a genetic tendency for crime and on the other, a madman with a history of planting incriminating evidence. Whom to believe?

Yosef engineered this mess for the brothers because he loved them. Before revealing his identity, Yosef wants to give his brothers a chance to vindicate themselves. He wants to watch them stand up and defend Binyomin, Yaakov’s favorite, Rachel’s son, and a threat to their own destiny. After being the victim of their hatred, jealousy and false accusations, Yosef wants to witness his brothers judge Binyomin favorably. He wants to evoke the presence of his mother Rachel and watch the children of the “secondary” wives deal with that uncomfortable reality. And Yosef wants to see his brothers express caring and love for their father Yaakov. Yehuda stands up and heroically does all these things – and Yosef reenters a healed family.

This is all very nice, but a question remains. What right did Yosef have to do all this? It may help heal the family, but it is a risky business and a painful one. Who gave Yosef the right to play God?

The answer lies in Yosef’s dreams, but only in context with the dreams that follow. When the baker and the butler had their dreams in the dungeon, Yosef interpreted them to mean that the baker will die and the butler will live and be freed (40:8-19). Why did God grant prophetic dreams to an Egyptian butler and baker? There is only one explantion. Yosef’s accurate interpretation built his reputation and ultimately led to his own freedom from prison two years later. It turns out that the dreams of the butler and baker were not for themselves at all; they were entirely for Yosef. The butler would have come to this realization on his own, but Yosef ruined it by asking him to put in a good word for him (40:14). This delayed things for two years. In order for his dream to function naturally as the agent for Yosef’s freedom, the butler had to first forget about Yosef and his request (40:23). (This explains the Midrash quoted by Rashi to 40:23).

Pharaoh also has dreams that Yosef interprets, again following the same pattern. Pharaoh is not dreaming for himself. As king, he is no danger from famine. Pharaoh’s dreams are not for himself, but for others – for the salvation of his people and the empowerment of Yosef. These revelations about the nature of dreams do not go by unnoticed by Yosef.

When Yosef’s brothers arrive at his door, the Torah tells us exactly what when went through his mind: “Yosef remembered the dreams that he dreamed for them” (42:9). Not simply “his dreams” nor “the dreams that he dreamed about them.” Rather, “the dreams that he dreamed for them.”

Yosef’s personal, life-changing experience with dreams taught him a fundamental truth. Dreams are never self-orientated. Even Yosef’s dreams of his brothers bowing before him were not for his own benefit. On the contrary, those dreams served as the catalyst for his sale into slavery! Dreams are not for the self; dreams are for others. And the dreamer has an obligation to act.

When the brothers arrived, Yosef had an epiphany. All six dreams lead to one inescapable conclusion. Yosef must play God with his brothers - for their own good. This was the meaning of the vision of his brothers bowing before him.

Yosef hates his mission, but he suffers through it, recognizing that the very dream that instigated the brothers to sell him obligates him to orchestrate their atonement. But this understanding is predicated on the extraordinary idea that even dreams of power must always be reinterpreted selflessly.

Grand Reopening to all Commentators!

2007-12-13T10:43:00.000-08:00

Somehow, without my knowledge, the settings of this blog were changed to restrict comments to team members. My apologies to all comers who got rejected. Hope no one took this personally or got turned off by the apparent snobbishness (snobiety?). I am happy to report that the problem has been fixed, so feel free to comment to your heart's content.

Thank you Esther Kestenbaum for bringing this to my attention!

A Series of Inexplicable Events

2007-12-03T10:08:00.000-08:00

In this week’s parsha, there is a lot of strange behavior. In fact, the behavior of each and every character in our story is just inexplicable. And that includes Yaakov, Yosef, and God.

Let’s review. Favoritism, tattletaling, and grandiose dreams drive the brothers into a dangerous mix of jealousy and hatred for Yosef. It reaches the point that they simply cannot say a peaceful word to him.

Yaakov is also angered by Yosef’s dreams. He intends to “manage” the situation, but when he sends Yosef to check up on his brothers, they kidnap him and sell him as a slave. Yosef is brought down to Egypt where he is put up on the block and purchased by the royal butcher.

No one’s behavior makes much sense, but strangest of all is Yaakov. Knowing that they are not on speaking terms, how could Yaakov send Yosef to check on his brothers? Yosef was terrified to make the trip, as evidenced by his “Hinneni” (37:13; compare 22:1). Yosef must have wondered why Yaakov was asking him to do this, and the conclusion he came to was inescapable and horrible.

Yaakov was in on the sale! How else would the brothers explain Yosef’s disappearance? The family had clearly decided to eliminate Yosef, much like Eisav and Yishmael were rejected by the earlier generations. It runs in the family. This explains why Yosef never made any attempt to contact Yaakov. (Of course, Yaakov did not conspire to eliminate Yosef, as evidenced by his subsequent mourning over the loss of his son. The question of why Yaakov sent Yosef to check on his brothers remains unresolved.)

Yosef is out of luck. Yesterday he basked in Yaakov’s love; today he labors for an Egyptian. We would be forced to admit that Yosef has been abandoned not only by his family, but by God as well. But the Torah says otherwise.

God was with Yosef.
Bereishit 39:2

Yosef is a slave and God is with him? If God is with him, why doesn’t God arrange for his freedom? In what way is God with him?

God was with Yosef and He made him very successful… His master realized that God was with [Yosef] and that God granted success to everything he did… [His master] placed him in charge of his household…
39:2-4

God’s presence manifests itself in Yosef’s success, but this is a mixed blessing. Yosef’s success (and good looks) attracts the attention of his master’s wife. She wishes to commit adultery with him, but Yosef refuses.

How could I do such a great wrong? It would be a sin before God!
39:9

Now it is Yosef who is behaving strangely. It takes a powerful fear of God to withstand the constant seductions of a beautiful woman. But Yosef has it. Where did he get such extraordinary faith? It must have come from his upbringing in the house of Yaakov. But this was the house that threw him out! After experiencing the evil done to him by his family, we would expect Yosef to abandon the faith of his fathers. After all, he has ample evidence that this tradition does not a better person make! But Yosef does not fall into that kind of immature thinking. He remains a God-fearing man.

Enraged by Yosef’s rejection, Potifar’s wife accuses him of attempted rape and has him thrown in prison. It is hard to imagine a more hopeless station in life than an imprisoned slave in the dungeons of ancient Egypt. But when life has gone from bad to worse and dreams of honor are but a distant memory, that most unexpected verse reappears once again.

God was with Yosef.
39:21

Two new prisoners show up in the prison, and one night they both have dreams. The next morning, Yosef notices that they look upset.

“Why do you look so worried today?” he asked.
“We [each] had a dream,” they replied, “and there is no one [here] to interpret it.”
“Interpretations are God’s business,” replied Yosef. “Tell me your dreams.”
40:7-8

Yosef may be in a dungeon, but he holds on to his faith. More than that, even when it comes to dream interpretation, something Yosef does quite well, Yosef humbles himself. “Dreams are God’s business.” Nor is Yosef shy about his faith. Later, standing before the king of Egypt, Yosef declares, “It is not me. God will provide an answer concerning Pharaoh’s future” (41:16). Yosef is a strong, proud and vocal Jew, and his religious values are rock solid. His faith emerges unscathed by his brother’s betrayal, estrangement from Yaakov, life alone in a pagan society, seduction, slavery and imprisonment.

The series of inexplicable events that is our parsha leaves a trail of unanswered questions. But of all the mysteries, the most relevant and the most pressing is this: Did Yosef have faith because God was with him? Or was God with Yosef because Yosef had faith?

The Master of Dreams

2007-11-29T19:22:00.000-08:00

Posted by Ishbitz Forever

Ishbitzer Rebbe shared with us a deep and beautiful secret, that in ancient Hebrew the word for dream "Chalom" and the word for bread "Lechem" - are formed of the same letters "Chet Lamad Mem" - this is to teach us from the depth of truth that just as one needs bread to live - so too one needs a dream.

Do dreams follow our hearts or do our hearts follow our dreams?

The story of Joseph is the story of the soul. There is part of our magical soul that dreams, wild and wonderful dreams unbound by the world around us fed only by the spiritual world on high. This dreamy part of our soul is looked down upon by the other parts of our being as a "child" - A "na'ar", never given any real respect.

Yet as we go through life - we have moments - moments when the dreamer is given a coat of many colors - colors so vivid and beautiful, so unimaginably breathtaking that they light up the night, they inspire and remind us that it is truly the intangible, the spirituality in our lives that makes life so magical and worth living. They are only moments.

The other parts of the soul knowing that what they have seen, felt and learned in these brief fleeting moments are so deep and true, begin to hate the dreamer. It is because of him that they now doubt their once clear mission.

The dreamer himself reaffirmed by these bursts of clarity becomes emboldened and suggests to the others that they simply let go and follow him to wherever it is he will lead, he will unshackle them from a mundane life and lead them to a higher goal.

They respond angrily, "Enough dreamer! Lets see how you survive in the real world where its dark and cold- It's easy to dream when protected by your father's love and clothed in color". So they rip off the coat of colors and throw him into a darkest pit - and proceed to sell him into slavery... and say, "Let us see what shall be of this dreamer!"

The dreamer is in hell, betrayed by those he loved and only wished to help. Hurt and alone... he seeks a new dream.. and it comes in the form of the warm bed of a most beautiful yet forbidden woman, a woman who wears many colorful clothes of her own . Her call is sweet and intoxicating, the urge to let go of the old and begin anew is too much to resist - why hold onto the painful quest a hopeless dream when these passions and dreams can be fulfilled. The dreamer about to succumb at her bedside - gains strength with a memory of another love upon seeing a vision of his father through a window to the future. For a brief moment he takes comfort that he at least has her colored cloak but the woman returns and claims that the cloak is hers, and the comfort he took betrays him, he is thrown into prison where there are no colors at all.

Once again lost and alone, the dreamer spends years in prison unable to do much at all - He has lost all his dreams to the pain. Yet it is here in this very dark prison where he learns perhaps the greatest secret of dreams - the most powerful power of dreams is not about the vivid colors or inspiration that the dreamer wears or spins - but helping others find their true dream - it is this giving of dreams that makes him "master of dreams." (Ba'al Chal'omus).

Only after this lesson learned do the other parts of the soul bow before him and accept the dreamer as their king and leader - for what good is a selfish dream - what is greater than to give the gift of dreams.

The Hailiga Ishbitzer writes, and I am sure these words are scorched with the fire of truth, the "The absolute greatest thing a yid can do is give another yid a place to stand" - a place to stand, a place to live, love and exist - and above all a place to dream.

Thanksgiving and the Heresy of Entitlement II

2007-11-19T12:25:00.000-08:00

[Read part-one here.]

I would like to both clarify and expand on my recent post on this topic.

The central point of my post was that Yaakov never felt entitled to anything and that is why he was so grateful when God promised to protect him. The hypothesis is this: When you receive something that you think you are entitled to, there is little cause for thanksgiving. But if your expectations are zero, then anything and everything you get is perceived as a free gift and thanksgiving is in order. It turns out that Rashi in our parsha makes this same point quite explicitly. Rashi, quoting the Midrash, tells us that "the matriarchs were prophetesses who knew that twelve tribes would come from Yaakov" (Rashi to 29:34). Yaakov married four women, so that means that each wife is "entitled" to three sons. When Leah's fourth son, Yehudah, was born, Leah said, "Now I will thank God" (29:35). Rashi explains her meaning: "Now that I have taken more than my portion, I must thank [God]." This Rashi is based on a Midrash which illustrates the point with a parable:
R. Berachya said in the name of R. Levi, "A Kohen went to the granary. One guy gave him a pile of ma'aser (a tithe that must be given to a Levite) and the Kohen did not thank him for it. Another guy gave him a handful of ordinary grain and he thanked him for it. [The first guy] said to him, 'My Master Kohen, I gave you a pile! This guy gives you a handful and you thank him?' [The Kohen] replied, 'You gave me my own portion, but this guy gave me from his own. That is why I thanked him.' Similarly, the matriarchs assumed that each one of them would have three sons, so when Leah had a fourth she exclaimed, 'Now I will thank God!'"
Bereishit Rabba 71:4
There you have it, black on white. People are never grateful when they get what's coming to them. It's just that Yaakov felt that nothing was coming to him.
While Yaakov's attitude was that God owes him nothing, Yaakov was no shmata (doormat). The clear message of the bulk of the parsha is that Yaakov will not allow Lavan to rip him off.
I wrote, parenthetically:
God introduces Himself to Yaakov as the God of both Avraham and Yitzchak, cf. 28:13, but God stresses that Avraham, not Yitzchak, is Yaakov’s “father”!
By this I meant to suggest that God was well aware of Yaakov's tendency towards the "din" attribute of his father, and God therefore wanted to remind Yaakov that Avraham, the man of chesed, was also his father. (For an altogether different and far more radical explanation of why Yitzchok is not called Yaakov's father, see Moznayim LaTorah here.)

This is all the more interesting in light of the fact that Yaakov had just completed a fourteen-year stint in yeshiva, cf. Rashi to 28:11 quoting B.R. 68:11. Yaakov's "yeshivish" din streak expresses itself when he confronts the shepherds in 29:7, a la R. Shimon bar Yochai right out of the cave. Hameivin Yavin.

Despite God's gentle reminder, Yaakov was not prepared to let go of Yitzchak as his primary model. At the very end of the parsha, Lavan proposes that they take an oath in the names of the "God of Avraham, the God of Nachor, and the God of their father (Terach)" (31:53). Yaakov is obviously not going to take any oath in the name of the pagan gods of Nachor and Terach, but we would imagine that Yaakov would have no objection to the God of Avraham. However, "Yaakov swore by the Dread of Yitzchak his father" (ibid.) Once again, Yaakov asserts the primacy of din over chesed. (See, however, 31:42.)

[Continue with part-three here.]

Do Two Wrongs Make a Right? The Balance Between Responsibility and Respect

2007-11-18T00:41:00.000-08:00

Posted by R. Moshe Adatto

Was it proper for Rachel to steal her father's idols? According to the Midrash (quoted in Rashi 31:19), Rachel's intent was to stop her father from worshipping idols. She clearly felt that it was not only acceptable, but laudable for her to commit this act of theft for the greater good of saving her father from continuing a life of paganism. However, this appears to be a matter of debate. For if Yaakov agreed with her, how could he be so certain that a member of his household had not stolen them? If so, we are faced with a philosophical difference in perspective between a great Patriarch and an great Matriarch. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

(The Talmud's discussion (Shabbat 4a) about the propriety of one person committing a minor sin in order to stop someone else from a more major sin may well be relevant, although there is room to make a distinction.)

We might be tempted to support Yaakov's position based on the fact that Rachel was punished with an early death. However, this does not appear to be relevant to our discussion, because her death seems to be attributed to Yaakov's curse- "whoever you find your gods with shall not live," and not due to the G-d taking a position on the morality of her action.

From a contemporary standpoint this is a difficult issue to grapple with. In a culture of relative morality we are very uncomfortable as a society with the concept of people imposing their standards on others. Additionally, as Jews we do not want anyone else imposing their standard of absolute morality on us. However, we also believe in our responsibility to help others, and our understanding of what is considered help is certainly shaped by our beliefs and moral code.

I am not offering any answers, but I do feel that the balance between respect for other people's property rights (and their right to make their own decisions, as flawed as they might be) and care and concern for the spiritual wellbeing of others deserves thought.

Are you a Yaakov or a Rachel?

Thanksgiving and the Heresy of Entitlement

2007-11-16T00:31:00.000-08:00

On the run from his brother Eisav, Yaakov is broke and alone. A yeshiva bachor by nature and seventy-seven years old, he must make his way northeast across hundreds of miles of trail to start life anew in a foreign land. Stopping for the night on a hilltop in the middle of nowhere, Yaakov falls asleep under the stars and, for the first time in his life, he receives a prophecy. God promises him the world.

“I am God, Lord of Avraham your father and Lord of Yitzchak. I will give to you and to your descendants the land upon which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth. You shall spread out to the west, to the east, to the north and to the south. All the families on earth will be blessed through you and your descendants.
“I am with you. I will protect you wherever you go and bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have fully kept this promise to you.”
Bereishit 28:13-15

There is much here that Yaakov must have been thrilled to hear. Not only does God guarantee Yaakov’s safe return home, He also gives him the land of Israel and promises to make him a source of blessing for all humanity. But most significantly, God promises him children. Lots of them. For a single man getting on in years with a long history of infertility in his genes, this is a wonderful piece of news.

Yaakov’s reaction is intense.

Yaakov took a vow. “If God will be with me,” he said, “if He will protect me on the journey that I am taking, if he gives me bread to eat and clothing to wear, if I return in peace to my father’s house, and if God makes Himself my Lord, then this stone that I have set up as a monument will become a temple for God, and of all that You give me, I will set aside a tithe for You.”
28:20-22

Yaakov is overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude and indebtedness, and he wants to give back to God in the only way he knows how. In return for God’s blessings, Yaakov commits to transform this site into a center of divine service and worship – and indeed he does just that when he returns to Israel many years later (cf. 35:6-7).

It is a beautiful story, but something is very wrong here. Yaakov left out all the important blessings! Nowhere in his “acceptance speech” does Yaakov mention Israel, nor does he respond to God’s promise to grant him children. It would seem that Yaakov is most excited about the prospect of clothes, food and returning to his parent’s home in peace. How mundane! Certainly, the divine promises of Israel and nationhood are of greater significance than mere survival. Does being the father of the chosen nation mean nothing to Yaakov?

The contrast with Avraham is striking. When Avraham arrived in Israel, God appeared to him and said, “To your descendants I will give this land” (12:7). Avraham’s response? “He built an altar there to God who had appeared to Him” (ibid). Rashi explains: “‘He built an altar’ – on the news about children and on the news about Israel.” But when God makes these very same promises to Yaakov, Yaakov is silent. Why?

It would seem that the different reactions of Avraham and Yaakov reflect their different personalities. Avraham was a man of pure chesed, kindness, and he was thus better able to relate to and understand God’s chesed. Yaakov, however, was a son of Yitzchak, the personification of din, strict justice. Indiscriminate divine love was something he had trouble with. (Read more about Yitzchak and din here.) Like his father Yitzchak, Yaakov never assumed that life was secure (cf. 32:8; compare 14:14). (Significantly, God introduces Himself to Yaakov as the God of both Avraham and Yitzchak, cf. 28:13, but God stresses that Avraham, not Yitzchak, is Yaakov’s “father”!)

Yaakov was overwhelmed by the “small” gifts of survival and safety. For those alone he swore to build a temple for God. The gifts of Israel and nationhood were altogether too much to take. Faced with the enormity of those blessings, Yaakov was speechless.

This humble attitude appears again later in the parsha. Yaakov marries two sisters, Leah and Rachel; Leah is able to have children, but Rachel is barren. Exasperated by childlessness and jealous of her sister, Rachel confronts Yaakov:

“Give me children! If not, let me die!”
Yaakov got angry with Rachel. “Shall I take God’s place?” he said. “It is He who is holding back the fruit of your womb.”
30:1-2

The logic of his response notwithstanding, Yaakov’s anger seems unwarranted. It goes without saying that Yaakov was a caring and sympathetic husband. Why is he angry with Rachel? The language of the Midrash is more direct. “Is this the way to answer a person in pain?!” (Bereishit Rabba 71:1).

In light of what we have learned about Yaakov, it is not difficult to pinpoint the source of his anger. It is one thing for a frustrated woman to demand a child, but it is another to exclaim, “If not, let me die!” Rachel was saying that she felt her life was meaningless – even useless – without children. From Yaakov’s perspective, this bordered on heresy.

God owes us nothing. Man cannot even claim that he has a right to the basic necessities of food, clothing and shelter. On the contrary, these are to be seen as divine blessings that leave man eternally indebted. Being alive is reason enough to rejoice and build a sanctuary to express thanksgiving to God. Children? The gift of children is an otherworldly blessing that is well beyond human capacity to comprehend or appreciate. How can anyone say that life is useless without it?

In a similar vein, R. Yitzchak Arama (1420-1494) points out that the purpose of life is not raising children. The purpose of life is to do mitzvot and cultivate a relationship with God. That is why, says R. Arama, Yaakov got angry with Rachel. She forgot why she was alive.

Rachel got the message. When she finally does have a child, she exclaims, “God has taken away my disgrace” (30:23). The simple meaning is obvious, but the Midrash has an innovative reading.

As long as a wife does not have a son, she has no one to blame for her blunders. But once she has a son, she blames him. “Who broke this container?” “Your son.” “Who ate the figs?” “Your son.”
Bereishit Rabba 73:5; Rashi ad loc.

Are we to believe that Rachel wanted a child so she could have someone to blame for her mistakes?! What is the meaning of such a bizarre statement? The answer, as many have explained, is that Rachel wants to be sure that her thanksgiving is all-inclusive. She is not satisfied with simply thanking God for the child; she wants to express appreciation for every single advantage gained. And that includes having someone to blame.

In the end, Rachel absorbed Yaakov’s beliefs. God owes us nothing. We owe God – for every little thing.

[Read part-two here.]

Digging for Fun?

2007-11-10T21:00:00.000-08:00

[Yitzchak] continued to prosper until he became extremely wealthy. He had flocks of sheep, herds of cattle, and a large retinue of slaves.
The Philistines became jealous of him. They plugged up all the wells that his father's servants had dug while Avraham was still alive and they filled them with earth.
Avimelech said to Yitzchak, "Go away from us. You have become much more powerful than we are."
Yitzchak moved away from there, camped in the Gerrar Valley and settled there. Yitzchak returned [to Gerar] and redug the wells that had been dug in the days of Avraham, which had been plugged up by the Philistines after Avraham's death. He gave them the same names that his father had given them.
Bereishit 26:13-18

Can anyone please tell me why Yitzchak, after he was evicted, snuck back into Gerar to redig wells for his enemies to enjoy?

Trust in Prayer

2007-11-09T06:26:00.000-08:00

Posted by IshbitzForever

And Issac entreated Hashem opposite his wife, because she was barren. Hashem allowed himself to be entreated by him, and his wife Rebbeca conceived."
Genesis 25-22-23

The authoritative commentator known as Rashi explain the words "opposite his wife" as thus "This one stood in this corner and prayed and this one stood in this corner and prayed".

What is the significance of opposite corners - we have no such tradition that man and wife can not pray together or that retreating to different parts of the room help our prayers to be received, accepted or answered.

In addition we must introduce another puzzling explanation given by Rashi. Although we find that both Issac and Rebbeca prayed for a child, the verse tells us "Hashem Allowed himself to be entreated by him" (Isaac only)" - but what of Rebbeca's prayer? To this Rashi makes the statement, "One can not compare the prayer of someone who is righteous and whose parents were also righteous - to the prayer of someone who although they are righteous their parents weren't righteous" - meaning we cant compare the paryer of Issac who had a father like Abraham to the prayer of someone like rebbeca who had a father like Bethuel (an evil man). The question is blazing - is a new requirement for prayer to have a righteous parent? Isn't prayer the open and direct connection between every living creature and its maker our living G-d in heaven - what is Rashi talking about!?

So there's a story of a Great Rabbi, one of the Students of the Baal Shem Tov (Founder and Leader of the Hassidic Movement). This Rabbi hadn't had children for many years. One day his wife could take the pain no longer and yelled at her husband " I don't understand, people come from far and wide seeking your blessing for all their ills and troubles, you pray to G-d on their behalf and they are answered. Yet I, you're own wife sits in a sad and empty house without children and your prayers for me don't seem to be answered". The Rabbi softly answered "Those that come from far and wide believe I am a saintly man and they believe with all their hearts that G-d will surely listen to my prayers it's this very pure belief that carries their cause up to the deepest place in heaven before G-d's heavenly thrown - you on the other hand live with me, you know I am no saint just a struggling Jew trying to make the best of myself, your belief in me or my prayers is rightfully not without its doubts - hence my prayers for us must fight their way up, and so far they haven't reached their destination".

Isaac was the son of Abraham, he was installed with unquestioning belief in G-d from an early age. So much so that when his father told him that he was to slaughtered as a sacrifice he didn't flinch, an accepted the will of G-d as the only reality by which to live, utter trust. Rebbeca not so. She did not grow up with G-d at all, although she was good hearted, her religious experience surely began when she was wed to Issac.

When they prayed - each was in their own corner - they both had different approaches to prayer. Issac was sure G-d was listening - as he himself had been a miracle baby - and was sure G-d could change the worlds natural order in an instant as he had seen and heard his entire life - Rebbeca had not shared that upbringing, and could not pray the same way - Although she believed it could not be the same belief. One can not compare the prayer of one who is the child of a righteous man - because the child of a righteous man prays differently due to what he has been taught and seen while growing up.

Although prayer's function is primarily away to connect man and his creator - G-d set it aside as a tool we can use to call out to him in times of need. For it to function as such it needs trust, in both how closely G-d is listening, and how quickly G-d can change things.

In Search of a Matriarch

2007-11-02T04:16:00.000-07:00

In this week’s parsha, Avraham decides it is high time for his son to get married. After all, Yitzchak is pushing forty. Instead of doing the Jewish thing and yelling at him to get married already or introducing him to a nice Canaanite girl, Avraham sends his butler Eliezer off to his old hometown of Charan to find Yitzchak a wife.

Eliezer is understandably confused. He asks the obvious:

What if the girl does not want to come back with me to this land? Shall I bring your son back to the land that you left?
Bereishit 24:5

Before he schleps across the Middle East on a camel, Eliezer wants to make sure he’s not wasting his time. He knows it would be a whole lot easier to make a shidduch if the girl could just meet Yitzchak first. Who is going to agree to marry a man sight unseen? Eliezer makes a reasonable request. Let me take Yitzchak along.

Avraham says no. And he explains why.

“Be careful! Do not bring my son back there! God, the Lord of the heaven, took me away from my father’s house and the land of my birth. He spoke to me and made an oath. ‘To your offspring I will give this land.’ He will send His angel before you and you will take a wife from there for my son.
“If the girl does not want to come back with you, then you shall be absolved from my oath. But do not bring my son back there!”
24:6-8

It's an inspiring speech, but what does it mean? Is Avraham saying that Eliezer is guaranteed success because God will intervene and send an angel? No, Avraham didn’t say that. In fact, after mentioning the angel, Avraham’s very next sentence is this: “If the girl does not want to come back with you, then you shall be absolved from my oath.” Clearly then, there are no guarantees. So what exactly is this angel going to do? (cf. Rashi 24:52) And why can’t Yitzchak go to Charan? In short, how has Avraham responded to Eliezer’s legitimate concern?

In order to understand Avraham’s response, we need to think again about Eliezer’s question. Eliezer was worried that the girl will not agree to come back with him to Israel; but the truth is, there is a bigger question that needs to be addressed first. What kind of girl are we looking for? How is Eliezer to decide who is right for Yitzchak? All Avraham said was to find someone from “my land and my birthplace” (24:4). No further instructions were given. How will Eliezer choose?

This problem does not seem to concern Eliezer. Eliezer is confident in his ability to find the right girl, for he has devised a little test that he implements as soon as he arrives in Charan:

He prayed, “O God, Lord of my master Avraham: Be with me today and grant a favor to my master Avraham. I am standing here by the well, and the daughters of he townsmen are coming to draw water. If I say to a girl, ‘Tip over your jug and let me have a drink,’ and she replies, ‘Drink, and I will also water your camels,’ she will be the one whom you have determined for Your servant Yitzchak.
24:12-14

The very first girl that Eliezer approaches is none other than Rivkah herself and, to Eliezer's amazement, she passes his test with flying colors (24:15-27). If you think about it, this test, which was Eliezer’s idea, was entirely unnecessary. Avraham was right. God’s angel saw to it that Rivkah was the first girl Eliezer met. There was no need for a test to find the right girl.

This is what Avraham was telling Eliezer. You will find the right girl immediately. Forget about your test. There is something else we need to look for.

“God, the Lord of the heaven, took me away from my father’s house and the land of my birth. He spoke to me and made an oath. ‘To your offspring I will give this land.’ He will send His angel before you and you will take a wife from there for my son.”

God didn’t really “take” Avraham away from his father’s house. God told him to go and Avraham chose to listen. Avraham listened even though he did not know where he was going: “Go… to the land which I will show you” (12:1). Avraham had faith and Avraham went, and in the merit of that mitzvah God said, “To your offspring I will give this land.”

The path that Rivkah must tread is the one that Avraham and Sarah had traveled – the road that they journeyed in following the will of God. It was that path that led to their destiny as the chosen people and is therefore the road that leads Rivkah to that same destiny.
R. Yitzchak Twersky, Amittah shel Torah, pg. 94

In other words, what Avraham is saying here is that in order for her to merit the blessing of Israel in her own right, Yitzchak’s wife-to-be must pass the test of Lech Lecha. Now we understand why the local girls are out of the running.

This is no ordinary marriage. To enter Avraham’s family and become a matriarch, Rivkah must sacrifice all on the altar of monotheism. Her love for the One God must drive her to abandon her pagan family forever for an unknown fate with an unknown man, just like Avraham abandoned that same pagan family many years earlier for an unknown land. All Rivkah knows is that Yitzchak fears God. That should be enough. If the heroic Yitzchak were to show up at her door in person, there would be no test here at all.

Eliezer and Avraham were looking at this shidduch project from very different perspectives. Eliezer thought it was his job to find the right girl and bring her home, and he just couldn’t figure out how he was going to convince someone to marry a man she never met. But Avraham knew that God, not Eliezer, would find the right match for Yitzchak. Whether or not she would come to Israel had to be Rivkah’s choice, uninfluenced by anything other than the faith of her own heart. Even Yitzchak himself could not be the determining factor.

God orchestrated events and took the Jews out of Egypt only because of the merits of Sara, Rivkah, Rachel and Leah… [The Exodus was] a reward for Rivkah, who, when asked if she wanted to go with the man [Eliezer], said, “I will go!” (24:58).
Eliyahu Rabba 25

It is understandable that Eliezer, the faithful student of Avraham, was looking for a woman of chesed, loving-kindness (cf. Rashi to 24:14; compare 24:44). Avraham, however, was searching not for a chavruta for himself but for a wife for his son Yitzchak. Avraham wanted to see gevurah, strength, determination and sacrifice. While it turned out that Rivkah had plenty of both chesed and gevurah, ultimately, Avraham was right. Rivkah’s legacy to her people is not her chesed to camels but her gevurah for God. She is the paradigm of a woman who has the inner strength to drop everything and say, “I will go!”

Seeing Beyond

2007-11-02T00:28:00.000-07:00

Posted by IshbitzForever

When she (Rebecca) finshed giving him (Eliezer) to drink she said, "I will draw water even for your camels until they have finished drinking."
Bereishit 24:19

The Talmud relates the following story:

The saintly scholar named Nachum Ish Gam Zu was laying in bed near death. He was blind and was missing his arms and legs. The ceiling of his decrepit home was creaking and began to crumble. "Remove everything from the house," Nachum told his gathered students, "then remove me - for as long as I am in here, my merit will prevent the ceiling from collapsing." The students did as their Rabbi instructed removing all utensils from the house. They then proceeded to carry the bed of their rabbi outside. The moment they were clear of the house the entire ceiling fell in.

The students asked, "Rabbi, if you have such merit how did it come to be that you lost your eyesight, your arms and legs?"

Nachum Ish Gam Zu said, "Let me tell you the story. I was once riding on a camel ladened with packages, and a poor man approached me asking for food. I got off my camel and proceeded to unpack to reach the food, but by the time I got to some the poor man had dropped dead of hunger. I was heartbroken and I said, "G-d, for my eyes not looking closely enough and seeing how hungry this man was, let me be punished by losing my eyesight. For my legs not moving fast enough to get down from the camel, let me lose my legs. For my hands not moving swift enough in unpacking, let me lose my hands" - and so it came to be. That is why you see me as you do today."

My friends - as Jews we are required to look around us. Not a casual glance, but good hard deep look. When we see an elderly person, we must wonder how they manage and ask if they need help with anything shopping, cleaning, cooking. When somone comes into shule and looks sad we must ask if they are ok, and follow up if something is wrong. This is true for countless situations. We can not pretend not to see, and when we do see we must open our hearts and look deeper.

Rebecca, although Eliezer simply asked for water for himself, she looked deeper and figured that for whatever reason he wasn't able to draw water for himself, so what will be with his camels? Not only did she not look away, she looked deeper!

Tears

2007-11-01T22:05:00.000-07:00

Posted by IshbitzForever

Sara died in Kiryat Arba which is Hebron in the land of Canaan; and Abraham came to eulogize Sara and to cry over her.
Bereishit 23:2

Whether through anecdote or adjective, when eulogizing, we use words to convey ideas about the deceased. We attempt to describe to the assembled who the deceased was as a parson and who they were to us. We pay tribute, give thanks and ask forgiveness. We hone in on lessons learned, and pledge not to forget.

Words however can never describe the piece of us that dies along with that person. The part of us to which only our beloved had the key, making us who we were. An entire dimension of our being lost forever. For this loss there are no words. The heart and soul's private loss can never be expressed - bystanders only see the evidence of this inner hell - the sobbing and tears.

The Talmud states "A woman dies only to her husband." The difficulty with the statement is obvious, what of children, parents and friends - do they not feel the loss?

According to Jewish tradition the husband and wife are really one.

This idea is not only expressed in Kabbalistic writings where we are taught the souls actually unite to form one complete soul - but reflected in matters of practical law. One tiny example - Just as one is required to rise and stand in the presence of a Torah scholar so to one must stand for his wife, the Talmud states the reason as "Ishto K'gufo" - "His Wife is like his Own Body."

A good woman is the light in a man's life and can inspire and help him be beyond what he could ever have been alone. She soaks into his being - she fills him - with a sense of beauty, magic, mystery, encouragement, hope, and strength.

When the Talmud tells us that "a woman dies only to her husband" - it means no one else dies along with her in their entirety like her husband, who has lost his entire being.

This last week my Rosh Yeshiva, my dear teacher, lost his wife after seven long years of cancer. Although I haven't seen them together but for the briefest of moments - I could get a tiny glimpse of what she meant to him during the Shiva. Their amazing relationship reflected in his anguished silence and streaming tears. It broke every heart. A brilliant man, lost and in a hell no person can save him from - we his students could only look on helplessly.

Abraham eulogized Sara, he said what he could put into words to the crowd, but then there were only tears.

A prayer for my Rabbi - "May G-d Console You Together and Among All the Mourners of Zion in Jerusalem." - Amen

Spiritual Self

2007-11-01T18:50:00.000-07:00

Posted by IshbitzForever

"Rather to my land and to my family shall you go and take a wife for my son Isaac."
Bereishit 24:4

According to tradition, Abraham's father was so cruel that it was he that handed Abraham over to authorities to be thrown into a fiery furnace for rejecting King Nimrod as a god. It was the very family which G-d commanded Abraham to abandon that Abraham now sought a wife for his son. Puzzling.

The same can be asked of Issac himself, who sent his son Jacob to marry from "family" as well - the daughters of Laban - a liar, a thief and a worshiper of idols.

The answer is quite simple. In the eyes of G-d we are not credited for what we are given, but for what we achieve on our own.

Abraham is associated with the attribute of mercy - for although he displayed tremendous strength as exhibited by passing ten trials - among them the "Binding of Issac" - Abraham's father had displayed similar strength, as mentioned earlier, by offering his son Abraham to his god, Nimrod. Abraham inherited this quality of strength, it was only the attribute of mercy that he acquired on his own to which he was credited as "his attribute."

It was precisely because Abraham knew of the cruelty of his family that he sent Eliezer there.(See Midrash of how Rebeca's family was only motivated by greed, and even plotted to kill Eliezer.) The girl that grew up surrounded by cruelty, and still blossomed into a icon of generosity, can truly be defined by that attribute.

The same could be said of Jacob - the man of truth. To find worthy spouse - his father Isaac sent him to the house of the most selfish thief and liar. It was there he found a woman, Rachel, who was willing to give up her husband to her older sister. Her charitable heart was clearly of her own work and making.

In the service of G-d we are all obligated to use everything we are given, but we are defined by what we acquire on the lonely battlefield of our hearts.

Any comments on the new picture?

2007-11-01T10:31:00.001-07:00

Sarah the Punisher

2007-10-30T21:36:00.000-07:00

Sarah was taken twice - once by Pharaoh and once by Avimelech. Both times the bad guys were punished, but the punishments differ. Pharaoh and his people got hit with "severe plagues" (12:17) [a skin desease which made intimate relations painful - Rashi ad loc.] while Avimelech and his people got "sealed wombs" (20:18). Why the difference?

Now, both times the Torah states that these punishments came by the "word of Sarai/Sarah, the wife of Avraham" (12:17/20:18). The Midrash (quoted by Rashi) explains that an angel came and took orders from Sarah. These terrible punishments were thus chosen and directed by her. Our question is sharpened: Why did Sarah change her tactics?

My chavrusa, R. Avrumi Apt, posed an excellent answer to this question. When Pharaoh took Sarai, she was as yet unable to have children of her own. By taking her away from Avraham, Pharaoh was depriving them of living together as man and wife. Striking back measure for measure, Sarai made relations painful for him. However, by the time Avimelech took Sarah, God's blessing had already taken effect and she was able to conceive (cf. Rashi to 18:8). By taking her away from Avraham, Avimelech was preventing them from having a child together. In response, Sarah sealed up their wombs.

Reb Avrumi's answer is so good, I was determined not to quote it for fear that it would undermine my own. But then I remembered that Avrumi is an avid reader of this blog. Let's move on now to my p'shat.

It's not hard to understand why Sarai made sexual relations painful for the Egyptians. The Midrash (quoted by Rashi) states that the Egyptians were promiscuous. Sarai wanted to help cure them of that, so she made relations painful.

Sarah dealt with Avimelech differently because the Gerarites were different than the Egyptians - they were not promiscuous (cf. Rashi to 20:15). Their problem was more basic; they did not fear God. "Avraham said... 'There is no fear of God in this place'" (20:11). Sarah wanted to help them overcome their problem. How do you instill the fear of God in people? Seal up their wombs! It worked well. "The people were very frightened" (20:8). (See Chizkuni to 20:11.)

This provides a new understanding for what follows. "God remembered Sarah as He had said, and God did for Sarah as He had spoken. Sarah conceived and bore a son unto Avraham in his old age..." (21:1-2). Sarah could be blessed with a child only after she appreciated her barrenness as a vehicle for achieving the fear of God.

Is it any surprise that this child, Yitzchak, grew up to become the exemplar of the God-fearing Jew? (cf. 31:42)

For more on Sarah the Punisher, click here.

The Road Taken

2007-10-26T11:58:00.000-07:00

Posted by Benjy Ginsberg

A young man who I study with got married last Thursday. His Shabbos Sheva Brochos was going to take place in my neighborhood, and because he was from out-of-town, he asked me if I would be able find accommodations for some of his guests for Shabbos. Naturally, I agreed, offering to house some guests and trying to find suitable arrangements for the others. I was especially grateful for this Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim and its fortuitous timing with Parshas Lech Lecha. My kids had been singing incessantly about the greatness of Hachnosas Orchim ("it’s something we should do"), and I was eager to provide them with a real-life opportunity to see this Mitzvah in action, if only to get a little peace and quiet.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim: the guests did not show up. We waited impatiently, peering out the windows, hoping until the last minute before sunset that our guests would arrive. As I walked to Shul that evening, I was feeling a mix of bewilderment and annoyance. Actually, I was pretty steamed. I had spent the entire week running around for this Mitzvah, only to have the rug pulled out from under me. Not even a phone call. I wondered, "How would Avraham Avinu have felt if he had put all of his efforts into the Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim, only to never have it fulfilled?" Then it dawned on me: he went through the same thing.

Parshas Vayera opens with Avraham interrupting his visit from G-d to serve as host for three wandering men – angels in disguise. As the Midrash relates, Avraham knew that they were angels – without need for food, water or hospitality – but he was glad just to go through the motions of Hachnosas Orchim. Why would Avraham want to go through the whole hassle of preparing a meal and bringing water, when he knew that it was not really going to be the legitimate Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim?

Indeed, the Parsha contains a number of episodes where Avraham exerts himself for a good deed without ever seeing it brought to completion. When the angels take their leave to travel to Sodom, Avraham spends a significant amount of time and energy davening to Hashem to save the wicked city, knowing full well that the city did not have nearly the amount of righteous people it would need for Hashem to save it. And, at the end of the Parsha, Avraham’s Mitzvah to sacrifice his son is aborted before he could finish his task. Granted, Avraham was probably on board with not having to kill his son, but there is definitely a pattern of Avraham’s mitzvos being left incomplete.

All of these episodes of Avraham were, of course, part of the ten trials that G-d used to test Avraham. But they were more than that. Avraham is also showing that sometimes the preparation of a Mitzvah can be just as important as the Mitzvah itself. He is more than happy to run for his guests, pray for men he has never met or travel long distances to show his devotion to G-d. For Avraham, the journey itself is rewarding.

Actually, this had always been Avraham’s ethos, from the time G-d told him, Lech Lecha – "Go for yourself". This commandment was not just about getting to Eretz Yisroel, or just to have Avraham arrive at G-d’s chosen destination. It was also the act of going by itself that would be beneficial for Avraham. It would show his commitment to G-d, his willingness to sacrifice, and it would be the first step towards cementing a relationship with G-d that would lead to the eternal covenant between G-d and Avraham’s children, the Jewish people.

There are certain Mitzvos, then, that have other benefits than just reward in the next world. The preparation, the diligence, the journey to a mitzvah’s completion offer a different kind of compensation, one that has benefits for us everyday.

There’s a Gemara that’s said everyday during Birchos HaTorah, which underscores this concept (paraphrased from Shabbos 127a):

These are the things, the fruit of which man eats in this world, while the principal remains for him for the world to come: honoring one's parents, the practice of loving deeds; early attendance at the Beth Hamidrash; hospitality to wayfarers, visiting the sick, preparing a bride for her wedding; burying the dead; meditation in prayer; and making peace between man and his fellow; while the study of the Torah surpasses them all.

All of these things are tremendous Mitzvos. However, they don’t just earn reward in the Next World, they also produce for the doer in this World. That’s because these Mitzvos build character, teach perspective and create a harmonious world. People that involve themselves with chessed, Torah and prayer don’t just acquire Mitzvos, they become better people. And that is rewarding by itself.

So, guests or no guests, I definitely gained from the preparation. I spent hours devoted to trying to help other people, my kids got into the Mitzvah, and I learned that sometimes Mitzvos have benefits that we don’t see right away. For me, then, the message was clear: An unfulfilled Mitzvah can still be fulfilling.

Between Pharaoh & the King of Sodom

2007-10-22T10:12:00.000-07:00

Parshat Lech Lecha began with God's promises to Avraham, one of which was wealth. (It may pale in comparison with the other blessings, but money ain't nothing to sniff at.) Some time later, Avraham finds himself posing as Sari's brother in Egypt (12:13). Thinking that Avraham is his new brother-in-law, Pharaoh showers him with gold, silver, cattle and slaves (12:16). Avraham is more than happy to except these gifts; in fact, this was all part of Avraham's plan! (12:13).

The problem is this: Later in the parsha, Avraham refuses King Bera's legitimate offer of the wealth of Sodom:

“I have lifted my hand [in an oath] to God Most High, Possessor of heaven and earth! Not a thread or a shoelace! I will not take anything that was yours. You should not be able to say, ‘It was I who made Avraham rich.’”
14:22-23

What is going on here? Why does Avraham accept money from the King of Egypt but refuse it from the King of Sodom?

The Maharal of Prague asks this question and presents an interesting theory. Avraham will only accept money if he is confident that it is a fulfillment of God's blessing. God's blessing of wealth may very well come through Pharaoh, but it cannot come through the King of Sodom. The King of Sodom's offer is the result of Avraham's battle with the four kings, which was the result of the capture of Avraham's nephew Lot. It is inconceivable that God's blessings would come through tragedy. This is the Maharal's explanation. (I was expecting the Maharal to say that God's blessings can't come through such an evil character like Bera; moreover, I was surprised to hear that God's blessings cannot come through tragedy.)

I would like to suggest two alternative explanations for Avraham's inconsistant behavior. Avraham's stated concern is that the king of Sodom will say, "It was I who made Avraham rich." Avraham does not want anyone to deny the divine source of his blessings. The evil king of Sodom was certainly no believer in Avraham's God of chesed and there was a real concern that he would undermine the kiddush Hashem of Avraham's success. However, there was no such concern about Pharaoh. Pharaoh was a believer. Pharaoh experienced firsthand the miraculous divine intervention that saved Sari (cf. 12:17) and, according to the Midrash, Pharaoh went so far as to hand over his own daughter to join the household of Avraham and Sari. "When he saw the miracles that occured for Sara, he said, 'Better my daughter should be a servant in this home than a master somewhere else'" (Rashi to 16:1). There was no concern that Pharaoh would deny the guiding Hand of divine providence that made Avraham rich.

I arrived at another explanation due to a question posed at the Shabbat table by my son Nachum. When Pharaoh found out that he was lied to and Sari was really Avraham's husband, why didn't he take his money back? Pharaoh only gave Avraham all those gifts because he thought that Avraham was to be his brother-in-law. Now that that was not to be and Pharaoh was quite angry at being tricked why did he allow Avraham to leave with all that ill-gained wealth? I told Nachum that this incident was a huge embarrassment that Pharaoh wanted to end as quickly and quietly as possible. The last thing he needed was Avraham going to the papers. Pharaoh told them to keep the money and then had them immediately escorted out of the country.

Avraham was confident that Pharaoh would never announce that he was the one who made Avraham rich. The King of Egypt didn't need nosey journalists inquiring into the circumstances!

Where are you coming from?

2007-10-21T10:51:00.000-07:00

My dear friend, האדמו"ר רבי חיים מאיר מארגארעטן, had a penetrating insight into Avraham's approach to outreach. Everyone knows that Avraham's tent had four doors, one on each side. This strange design probably made things real cold at night, but it facilitated the welcoming of guests.

Few have given this Midrash much thought. Is it too much to ask a guest to walk around and use the front door? What is the sense of a door on every side of the house? The answer, according to Chaim Mier, is profound.

A pagan stranger encountering Avraham for the first time knew immediately that he had to change. To stand in the shining presence of this angel among men was to feel that your past was one big mistake that needed to be erased. The burning desire to start life anew was overwhelming, but Avraham said no.

Yes, change is good, said Avraham, but don't throw out your past. It is not a mistake; it was given to you by God and it is an integral part of your personal journey. That is the idea of a door on all sides; every point of departure is designed by God to lead to Avraham's tent. You don't need to becoming from a different place - you come from exactly where you are supposed to come from. The past must not (and cannot) be surgically excised.

I would posit that Avraham's picked up this approach from personal experience:

Go for yourself from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father's house, to the land which I will show you.
Bereishit 12:1

The point of departure should never be ignored, forgotten or denied.

Who Was Abraham?

2007-10-19T09:51:00.000-07:00

After Creation and the Flood, the Torah quickly gets down to business. With spellbinding detail, the Torah tells us the life story of an exalted and sensitive soul. It is a story of a poor refugee transformed into a prince among men; a story of power and honor; a story of dreams fulfilled, but yet, a story of trials, tragedy, and war. A man who changed the world and serves as a role model and a source of inspiration for Jews to this very day.

It is the life story of God’s beloved Avraham, the exemplar of kindness, the champion of monotheism, and the father of the Jewish People.

Avraham was the first of our three famous forefathers. His son, Yitzchok (Isaac), and Yitchok’s son, Yaakov (Jacob), complete the chain. Each of the Avot has a unique message, and together these messages form the ethical philosophy on which Judaism is founded. But the Avot do not lecture. Actually, they don’t say very much at all. It is only by studying their lives and their behavior as described by the Torah and the Midrash that we discover the principles they lived by. They communicate their message by personifying it.

The first message of the Avot, the guiding principle of our father Avraham, comes across loud and clear. Avraham stood for chesed, selfless giving and kindness. Apparently, the base of the foundation, the bedrock itself, is chesed. It is on chesed that all of Judaism must rest.

Chesed is the extraordinary idea of giving to others even that which they have not earned or do not deserve. This may be “unjust” in the strict sense of the word, but it is still divine. Creating and sustaining the world was a manifestation of God’s benevolence that Avraham recognized, appreciated, and taught, and he made it his mission to internalize and emulate that divine characteristic.

God knew this, but God was not satisfied.

No matter how righteous and spiritually conscious a person may be, as long as you are alive, God will prod you higher. God is always challenging man, and God’s challenges are custom designed. If Avraham recognizes God simply as the Giver, well, what will happen to Avraham’s faith when that perception is thrown into doubt? What if God tells you to go to Israel and when you finally get there, after traveling hundreds of miles, you find that you have arrived just in time for a severe famine (12:10)? What if your barren wife is kidnapped (12:15)? What if your orphaned nephew is taken captive (14:12)? And what if the supposedly loving God commands you to slaughter your own son (22:2)? What if, after everything you have done to educate the world about God’s love, the principle that you stand for is proven false? What do you think of God now?

God tested Avraham’s faith ten times (Mishnah, Avot 5:3), and our father Avraham passed every trial with flying colors. At the end of it all, God declares, “Now I know that you are a God-fearing man” (22:12). Avraham may have connected with the divine attribute of chesed, but He knew that, ultimately, man must submit before the unknowable, infinite God.

Avraham was on a mission to fix the world, and he waged a war against paganism and self-centeredness. He taught people about God (12:8,13:4) and succeeded in gaining a dedicated following (12:5). His open home (18:3-5), his unconditional love for every human being (18:23-33), and his unshakable faith inspired the masses, but there were pockets of resistance. Regimes of cruelty and terror existed, and their dictators were not exactly receptive to Avraham’s message.

The capital of corruption, the ultimate society of evil, was the infamous city of Sodom. “The people of Sodom were very wicked, and they sinned against God” (13:13). We’re not talking about human rights violations; we’re talking about institutionalized evil. Raping visitors was officially mandated (19:5-9; Bereishit Rabba 50) and kindness and charity to the needy was a capital offense, punishable by torture and death (18:21; Talmud, Sanhedrin 109b). Apparently, tourism and welfare were not high on the municipal agenda.

Throughout the twenty-four books of Scripture, Sodom is held up as the archetype society of cruelty, oppression, and sin (cf. Ezekiel 16:48-50; Lamentations 4:6; Isaiah 3:9). Sodom is the absolute antithesis of Avraham.

Avraham’s nephew, Lot, was a citizen of Sodom, and when Sodom was overrun and captured by invading armies, Lot was taken prisoner. Avraham responded immediately. He assembled an armed band of his followers and, with a surprise attack in the dead of night, succeeded in repelling the invaders and rescuing Lot. Sodom is now an occupied city in Avraham’s hands! (14:12-16).

The stage is set for a delightful Divine comedy. The Emperor of Evil, the exiled King of Sodom, who had somehow managed to survive the multiple invasions of his city, now has to face his nemesis. The poor fellow wants his city back. Irony of ironies! The tyrant who was so invested in the philosophy of self-centeredness, the man who believed charity to be a crime, now comes to Avraham asking for chesed! What a moment!

Expecting the worst, the King attempts to negotiate with Avraham: “Give me the people. You can keep the goods” (14:21). Avraham’s response is startling: “I have lifted my hand [in an oath] to God Most High, Possessor of heaven and earth! Not a thread or a shoelace! I will not take anything that was yours. You should not be able to say, ‘It was I who made Avraham rich’” (14:22-23).

It is not wealth that Avraham is after. What Avraham wants is to make the most of this opportunity to educate the King of Sodom about the nature of chesed. Chesed can, unfortunately, be distorted by man into a tool for inflating a depressed ego. Man can give charity and then arrogantly claim that he has enriched the poor and saved the world. This is not selflessness; this is self-serving. The matrix of genuine chesed is the awareness that heaven and earth belong to God and everything we have was given to us by God as a free gift. We should recognize and emulate this Divine trait of chesed by selflessly sharing our God-given possessions and our time with others. That was the message of our great father Avraham.

Rosh Hashanah: Apples or Cigarettes?

2007-09-11T16:39:00.000-07:00

If you think about it, the structure of the High Holiday season seems quite backwards. The High Holiday season, otherwise known as the Ten Days of Repentance, culminates with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. We regret our failings, admit that we were wrong, and resolve to be better. If we are sincere, God accepts our efforts at self-improvement and forgives us on Yom Kippur. This makes sense. But why do the Days of Awe start with Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year? Wouldn't it make more sense to clean up the old year before we start the new one? Shouldn't the Day of Atonement come first?

The more we look into this question, the worse it gets. Rosh Hashanah is the “Day of Judgment.” Every year on Rosh Hashanah, G-d reviews our record, reevaluates His investment in us, and then decides our fate for the New Year. Happiness or misfortune, wealth or poverty, life or death—all are inscribed by God on Rosh Hashanah.

Now things are really backwards. What is the sense of having the Day of Judgment first and the Day of Atonement last? Wouldn't it be a lot more logical for God to allow us the opportunity for forgiveness before He judges us?

Another question: If Rosh Hashanah is indeed a Day of Judgment, why do we make a holiday of it? Have you ever seen a suspect sitting in the dock munching on apples and honey? Wouldn’t a cigarette be more appropriate? On a day that we would expect to be fasting, we enjoy festive holiday meals. Is this the right way to face God when He sits in judgment?

It would certainly make sense for us repent on Rosh Hashanah; after all, the two days of Rosh Hashanah are the first two days of the Ten Days of Repentance. Strangely enough, there is not one word of repentance in the entire Rosh Hashanah service! You would think no one sinned! Not only is there no repentance, there’s not much prayer either. That is, all of the personal requests that appear in the regular daily prayers have been excised from the Rosh Hashanah service. Instead, we spend the day praying for the nation and we ask God to bless the Jews and Israel with redemption and peace. This is all very nice, of course, but don’t you think the sages could have at least left in some of the ordinary prayers for wisdom, health and material success? After all, this is the day when God makes all the decisions!

How can we explain the strange behavior of Jews on this most frightening of days?

The answer to these questions, says Rabbi Aaron Kotler (1891-1962), provides the key to understanding the entire High Holiday season. The structure of the Days of Awe is very deliberate, and it is guided by the nature of both God and man.

The fact is, nobody could ever survive God's exacting judgment of who we are and what we have done. God, by definition, forgets nothing and overlooks nothing. According to the Rosh Hashanah service, even the angels tremble before the judgment of God. But there is one approach that works. On Rosh Hashanah we make no mention of sins at all; we don't even repent in the service. Instead we say to God, 'Forget the past. All I have done wrong, my mistakes and failings, the bad and the ugly—that's not the real me. Look at the present. Look at me now!' And we make Rosh Hashanah a day of renewal.

We make the first day of the year the most beautiful day of the year. We demonstrate our inner goodness and we insist that our shortcomings are merely superficial aberrations. We make Rosh Hashanah a day immersed in selfless prayers, a day of celebrating with family and friends, a day of being our very best in our relationships with our fellow man and God. We show God how good we can be, we reveal our appreciation for the truly important things in life and we demonstrate that despite our many mistakes all year long, deep down our priorities are straight. We then hope and pray that God will base His judgment on that.

But it is not only for G-d that we are presenting our true selves. We need to see it too.

The Ten Days of Repentance begin with Rosh Hashanah because we need to get a taste of our forgotten potential before self improvement can begin. So we begin the New Year with a Rosh Hashanah in which we strive to be our best. We follow it through with ten days of repentance and introspection and we devise a practical plan for implementing Rosh Hashanah into our daily lives. In this way we grow and develop as Jews and inspire God’s infinite compassion for the verdict on Yom Kippur.

Such is the magnificent structure of the Days of Awe.

Dangerous Blessings

2007-08-31T11:42:00.000-07:00

As we approach the end of the Torah, the Jews are encamped on the borders of Israel gearing up for a dangerous invasion. A nation of escaped slaves, they face trained armies entrenched in fortified, defensive positions. The report of the spies echoes in their minds. Without a miracle, they are doomed.

But the prophet Moshe doesn’t hear the noise of impending war. He doesn’t see the enemy. His gaze reaches beyond. He sees the future.

A land of Israel at peace, blessed with fertility. Fields of wheat. Baskets of grapes, pomegranates, figs. And on a well-worn country path, a Jewish farmer is carrying his first fruits to Jerusalem, paying homage to the source of all this goodness.

When the farmer arrives at the Holy Temple, he expresses his gratitude in no uncertain terms. It would be fruitful (forgive the pun) to quote his declaration in full:

My ancestor was a homeless Aramaean. He went to Egypt with a small number of men and lived there as an immigrant, but it was there that he became a great, powerful and populous nation. The Egyptians were cruel to us, making us suffer and imposing harsh slavery on us. We cried out to G-d, Lord of our ancestors, and G-d heard our voice, seeing our suffering, our harsh labor and our distress. G-d then brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, with great awe and with signs and miracles. He brought us to this area, giving us this land flowing with milk and honey. I am now bringing the first fruit of the land that G-d has given me.
Devarim 26:5-10

Apparently, a mere “thank you” doesn’t cut it. It would be insufficient to merely thank G-d for making fruit grow. For an expression of gratitude to be whole, it requires a broader perspective. Recalling the divine miracles that brought the nation to Israel in the first place inspires the Jewish farmer to a more heartfelt expression of his feelings. This is why he presents a synopsis of Jewish history when all he really wants to do is thank G-d for figs.

Moshe ends this section with an additional point, a point on which the entire parsha turns:

You… shall thus rejoice in all the good that G-d your Lord has granted you and your family.
Devarim 26:11

That there is an obligation to express gratitude is not surprising. But what does rejoicing have to do with it?

It would seem that joy is an essential by-product of this mitzvah. G-d wants us to enjoy His blessings and expressing gratitude to God enables and inspires a deeper enjoyment of life. The Talmud, however, understands things a little differently.

From here we learn that the declaration over the first fruits may only be recited in a season of joy. [It can be said anytime] from the holiday of Shavuot until the holiday of Sukkot – a time when people are gathering in their produce, fruits, wine and oil. After Sukkot, [farmers] bring their first fruits [to the Temple] but do not recite this declaration (Pesachim 36b).
Rashi ad loc.

In other words, the Torah is not saying that this declaration brings joy, but rather the reverse – it can only be said when people are happy. When are Jews happy? The Talmud identifies “happy time” as being from Shavuot to Sukkot, but this is a shocking statement. The months of Tammuz and Av are between Shavuot and Sukkot! The breaking of the Tablets, the Sin of the Spies, the destruction of the two Temples – all the worst tragedies of our history occurred during these months. Moreover, this period also includes Elul and Tishrei, i.e. Rosh Hashanah, the Day of Judgment, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. This is a happy time? This is the scariest part of the Jewish year!

Apparently, we are not talking here about happiness in a religious sense. It may not be the happiest time on the calendar, but it is the time when farmers cash in on all their hard work. They are comfortable financially – and that makes people forget about God (cf. 8:12-14). That is why this is the time for a declaration of gratitude. It keeps farmers from taking the land of Israel for granted, a particularly important thing to do from Tammuz to Tishrei.

The parsha might begin with a utopian view of the future, but the vision quickly turns dark. Very dark.

If you do not obey G-d your Lord and do not carefully keep all His commandments and decrees as I am prescribing them for you today, then all these curses will come to bear upon you.
Cursed will you be in the city and cursed in the field.
Cursed will be your food basket and your kneading bowl.
Cursed will be the fruit of your womb, the fruit of your land, the calves of your herd and the lambs of your flock…
Devarim 28:15-18

That is only the beginning. Some of the most difficult reading in all of Scripture appears in this week’s parsha. Moshe tells the people what will befall them if they fail to observe the mitzvot of the Torah and the prophecies are horrifically graphic. I will not recount them here. Suffice it to say that the parsha reads like a hybrid of Josephus’ record of the Temple’s destruction, a history of the Spanish Inquisition, and a Holocaust memoir – verse after verse, it is all sadly familiar to students of Jewish history. Custom mandates that this section of the parsha be read quickly and in a soft voice.

In the midst of it all, we find this revealing verse:

[These curses] will be a sign and proof to you and your children forever. When you had plenty of everything, you did not serve G-d your Lord with happiness and a glad heart.
Devarim 28:47-48

That is the usual translation, but literally, it reads like this:

…You did not serve G-d your Lord with happiness and a glad heart because you had plenty of everything.

Amazing! G-d’s blessings have become a curse! Owning plenty of everything and enjoying all of life’s pleasures can sink man into materialism, depravity and ultimately depression, carrying him far from G-d and earning him harsh retribution. But when the people are righteous, G-d bestows His blessings of abundance and wealth (cf. 28:1-12). How do we escape this destructive cycle?

The answer is gratitude. If we maintain consciousness of the Source of Blessings through complete and wholehearted expressions of gratitude, we can then rejoice in all the good that God grants us without fear of becoming self-centered pleasure seekers. It turns out that the mitzvah at the beginning of the parsha is the antidote for all that follows.

The King and I

2007-08-16T12:20:00.000-07:00

Elul is here and Rosh Hashanah is just one month away. It’s time to start getting ready.

How does a Jew prepare for the Days of Awe? What are we supposed to do? Repent? Pray? Give Tzedakah? These are all good ideas, but there is something else, something far more basic and far more difficult. Reb Yerucham Levovitz (1874-1936) put it quite succinctly. On Rosh Hashanah, the Day of Judgment, we will all have to stand before the King. Elul is the time to practice doing just that.

Well, how do people comport themselves before a king? It’s been quite some time since anyone has stood trembling in a throne room, wondering if they will be knighted or tossed in a dungeon. This is a good thing, of course, but it has a down side when Elul comes around. We simply don’t know how to relate to a king.

This problem is particularly acute for us Americans. Many of us still harbor negativity to the whole idea of monarchy – after all, our last experience with it was His Majesty King George III. Moreover, recent history has seen our leaders held up to ridicule; Quayle, Clinton and Bush are prominent examples, but it has been happening across the board. We have become accustomed to mocking authority. We have absolutely no sense of what it is like to live under a king.

The American system has been wonderful for us Jews and we are eternally grateful. However, this week’s parsha does not promote democracy. It orders us to appoint a king.

When you come to the land that God your Lord is giving you, so that you have occupied it and settled it, you will [eventually] say, “I will appoint a king over myself…” Appoint over yourself the king whom G-d your Lord chooses…
Devarim 17:14-20

On the face of it, it’s a surprising mitzvah. Who needs a king? The Jews already have a legal system, a court system, and prophets. Moreover, the Jews have God. God is King. Why appoint a mortal monarch? The truth is, we don’t really need a king. But in order for humans to relate to anything, it must exist in some form in our world. Without the benefit of experience, abstract ideas and concepts remain just that – abstract and nebulous. Living under a benevolent human king helps people relate to the Divine King. This is why the Torah promotes monarchy and not democracy.

Despite the fact that our parsha declares it a mitzvah, when the Jews do eventually ask for a king, it is considered a sacrilege! It happens several centuries later when the prophet Samuel is leading the nation. The elders of Israel come forward and make the following request of the prophet:

“You have aged and your sons have not followed your path. Appoint a king for us…”
G-d said to Samuel, “Listen to the voice of the nation, to all that they have requested of you. It is not you that they are rejecting. It is I that they have rejected from being King over them.”
I Samuel 8:5-7

“It is I that they have rejected from being King over them.” That’s a pretty severe accusation! Why is God putting such a negative spin on this innocent request? Doesn’t our parsha clearly state that it is a mitzvah to appoint a king? Why is this request now viewed as a rejection of the monarchy of G-d?!

The answer, says the Kli Yakar (R. Shlomo Efraim Luntschitz, 1550-1619), is a small, but highly significant, difference in wording. A request for a king over us is a mitzvah, as per our parsha. But the Jews who came before Samuel did not ask for that. It was not a king over them that they asked for, but a king for them. This is something else altogether.

They did not want a Royal Highness. They were looking for something a lot more democratic. They wanted a “king” who would be under the constant scrutiny of the press, a “king” who answers to the people, a “king” not over and above the people but “for” the people. In short, they asked for a leader whose job description would be to serve the people, not a monarch who is served by the people. (It seems their request was granted to disastrous effect. The two professional failures of King Saul were caused by attempts to cultivate popularity with the people. Cf. I Samuel 13:9-13; 15:24.)

A king who serves the people might make for a legitimate political system, but it is not the kind of king described in our parsha. This explains why the Jews who came to Samuel did not fulfill a mitzvah. However, a question remains. Why did their request constitute a rejection of God? Certainly, the elders of Israel would never engage in an outright rejection of God and this charge should not be taken literally. But what does it mean?

Apparently, our assumption was correct. The political universe in which people live has a profound effect on their relationship with G-d. If you grow up and live in world devoid of respected authority figures, it becomes well nigh impossible to relate to a God who is King. Setting up a monarch who is a puppet of the people ultimately leads to a population that expects God to submit Himself to their will rather than vice versa. God understood that such a political system would undermine His relationship with the Jews and that is why He considered it a personal attack.

For Americans, “monarchy” is a dirty word. But we cannot escape the fact that Elul and Rosh Hashanah are all about accepting a monarch. We have a lot of work to do.

The Mother of All Tragedies

2007-07-23T12:17:00.000-07:00

Jerusalem, 70 C.E. The 9th of Av; an eyewitness account:

While the Temple blazed, the victors plundered everything that fell in their way and slaughtered wholesale all who were caught. No pity was shown for age, no reverence for rank; children and greybeards, laity and priests alike were massacred; every class was pursed and encompassed in the grasp of war, whether supplicants for mercy or offering resistance.
The roar of the flames streaming far and wide mingled with the groans of the fallen victims; and, owing to the height of the hill and the mass of the burning pile, one would have thought that the whole city was ablaze. And then the din – nothing more deafening or appalling could be conceived than that. There were the war-cries of the Roman legions sweeping onward in mass, the howls of the rebels encircled by fire and sword, the rush of the people, who, cut off above, fled panic-stricken only to fall into the arms of the foe, and the shrieks as they met their fate. With the cries on the hill were blended those of the multitude in the city below; and now many who were emaciated and tongue-tied from starvation, when they beheld the sanctuary on fire, gathered strength once more for lamentations and wailing.
Josephus, The Jewish War, VI. 271-274

The mother of all tragedies:

The Mishnah tells us (Ta’anit 26a) that five tragic events took place on Tishah B’Av: the sin of the spies, the destruction of the two Temples, the fall of Beitar, and the plowing up of the city of Jerusalem. When the Mishnah writes this, it is not just counting these events. The Mishnah is saying something else, that there is something intrinsic to this day that is responsible for these tragedies. And, in fact, there are not only five, but more than five events that occurred on this day since the time this was written in the Mishnah. Other, later, tragic events also occurred on this day. For example, the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492 was on Tishah B’Av. And you will find many more as well. It is the day of catastrophe as far as Jewish history is concerned. It is the day of tragedy, as if the day itself was somehow responsible. The day is fatal…
Our history is saturated with pogroms, persecutions, catastrophic events, and all kinds of misfortunes separate and apart from the Temple’s destruction. Half a million Jews, perhaps, were killed during the Middle Ages! Nonetheless, the Rishonim (medieval Rabbinic leaders) were silent. For some reason that we do not understand, they were reluctant to set aside a separate day of fasting and mourning to remember those who were killed for the sanctification of G-d’s Name in the centuries after the destruction of the Temples. Rashi says (II Chron. 35:25) that Tishah B’Av is the day to mourn for any Jewish tragedy. There can be no additional days set aside for mourning and grief, separately designated days of commemoration…
The destruction of the Temple is an all-inclusive concept. If the Temple’s destruction deserves mourning, it is incumbent upon us to mention and feel a sense of mourning on Tishah B’Av for all the catastrophes, tragedies, sufferings, and disasters that happened to the Jewish people during our more than nineteen hundred years of exile, because all of them are a direct result of the Temple’s destruction. Had the destiny of the Temples been different, all the catastrophes and disasters would never have happened. If not for the Temples’ destruction, the Crusades and the Hitler Holocaust, for example, would not have taken place. Everything, every disaster, is a result of the Temples’ destruction; that destruction is responsible for everything.
R. J.B. Soloveitchik, The Lord is Righteous in All His Ways, pgs. 208-214

Why do we still mourn? Isn’t the city rebuilt?

Much impressed by appearances, the casual uninformed observer might well have reason to ask, ‘Why do we continue to plead so desperately for Jerusalem to be rebuilt? True, we have no Temple and we cannot sacrifice offerings, but we can hardly say the city still lays in ruins!’
This question can be answered with an analogy to the patient who receives a heart transplant. The patient is up and around and appears to be healthy, but he is filled with anxiety lest his new heart be rejected or malfunction…
Similarly, the heart of mankind in general and the Jews in particular is the Beis HaMikdash, the Holy Temple. In that location, Adam was created and there G-d breathed life into his nostrils. G-d continued to pump vitality into mankind through the Temple until it was destroyed. Now, we are still maintained, but it is not the same. We are weak and fragile, susceptible to spiritual and moral contamination and disease. We are easily worn out. The whole system can collapse at any time.
R. A.C. Feuer, The Complete Tishah B’Av Service, pg. xv

The Diaspora Jew looks east:

Yerushalayim, rising in its throat-catching beauty on the shores of the Mediterranean, but for all that, lodged firmly in our hearts. Loyalty and longing. A city pining for her children and they? And they, undeterred by endless centuries, unhampered by weary distance, defiantly remain eternal wanderers because they know that outside Yerushalayim they can never really be home.
R. M.M. Eisemann, Harp Strings & Heart Strings, pg. 67

A bold prayer of hope:

Why do You ignore us eternally; forsake us for so long? Bring us back to You, G-d, and we shall return; renew our days as of old. For even if You were disgusted [with our behavior], You have already raged sufficiently against us.
Lamentations, 5:20-22

Men are from Egypt, Women are from Israel

2007-07-05T17:06:00.000-07:00

If you can remember back to the beginning of the book of Bamidbar, our story began with a census. Now it’s forty years later and the Jews stand on the banks of the Jordan, ready to enter the Promised Land. Here G-d orders another census. The numbers haven’t changed much and this count might seem insignificant, but it serves to make a depressing point:

Among those [counted now] there was not one man [who was previously] counted by Moshe and Aaron the priest when they took a census of the Jews in the Sinai Desert. This was because G-d had decreed to them, “They shall die in the desert.” Not a single man survived, with the exception of Calev the son of Yefunah and Yehoshuah the son of Nun.
Bamidbar 26:64-65

The terrible sins of the Golden Calf and the episode of the spies doomed the generation of the Exodus to death in the desert. This explains why the nation had not grown. The privilege of entry into the Promised Land would be reserved for the next generation, the children.

Rashi notes the stress on “men” in the verses above. “Not one man [who was previously] counted by Moshe and Aaron the priest…” “Not a single man survived.” What about the women?

The women were not included in the decree [that resulted from the sin] of the spies, for they loved the land [of Israel]. The men said, “Let’s appoint a [new] leader and return to Egypt” (Bamidbar 14:4), but the women said, “Give us a piece of property!” (27:4).
Rashi ad loc.

The sin of the spies was perpetrated solely by men! The truth is, this surprising fact is evident from the language of the sin itself. Here is the recorded reaction of the Jews when they heard the spies’ defeatist report:

That night, the people wept… “We wish we had died in Egypt! We should have died in this desert! Why is G-d bringing us to this land to die by the sword? Our wives and children will be captives! It would be best to go back to Egypt…”
Bamidbar 14:1-3

Obviously it is men who are speaking here and not women. Only men would worry about “wives” being taken captive.

While the primary sin was a lack of faith in G-d’s ability to defeat the enemy, there is another point here. The men are apparently only concerned about their own lives and the lives of their wives and children. This is understandable; they love life and they love their families. But what about Israel? Is their no love for Israel? Should they not also bemoan the loss of the Promised Land? Does the homeland of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov mean nothing to them? The eternal divine promise, the dream of the Exodus, the great national aspiration to build a Jewish state in the Holy Land goes up in smoke and no one says a word?! This is a tragedy all its own. Had the Jews only mourned the perceived loss of Israel, or even just expressed some upsetness, their fate would surely have been different.

The depressing census of our parsha, which revealed that the men had all died out because they betrayed Israel, is followed by the inspiring story of the daughters of Tzelafchad – women whose love for Israel was strong and proud.

The daughters of Tzelafchad came forward [with a petition]. [Tzelafchad was] the son of Chefer, [who was the] son of Gilead, son of Machir, son of Menashe, of the family of Yosef’s son Menashe…
“Our father died in the desert… Why should our father’s name be disadvantaged in his family merely because he did not have a son? Give us a piece of property along with our father’s brothers.”
Bamidbar 27:1,3-4

These women have confidence in an ultimate Jewish victory in Israel, and their confidence has its source in faith in G-d and a love for the Promised Land.

Rashi notes the stress here on linage. Why does the Torah need to trace these women back to Yosef? Rashi’s answer is that their love for Israel came to them from their great zeide.

Why does the verse say “of the family of Yosef’s son Menashe”? It already told us [that Machir was] “son of Menashe.” The point is this: Yosef loved Israel, as we can see [from his last will] “You will bring up my bones from here” (Bereishit 50:25) and his granddaughters loved Israel [as we can see from their request] “Give us a piece of property.” This teaches you that everyone [in this line back to Yosef] was righteous.
Rashi ad loc.

In other words, Yosef’s love for Israel was faithfully passed down from one righteous generation to the next, through the painful exile of Egypt, until it expressed itself centuries later in the daughters of Tzelafchad – even though neither they nor their fathers had ever seen the place! With the right education, love for Israel can survive the Diaspora.

Again, it is women whose love for Israel shines through. This love protected them from the sin of the spies, but we should remember that women did not participate in the Sin of the Golden Calf either (Pirkei D’Rebbi Eliezer 45). Women are the unsung heroes of the Desert Generation.

What are we to make of all this? Is the Torah telling us something about women? Are women special? I don’t think so. All we are being told here is that they didn’t sin. There is nothing special about women who don’t sin; there is something wrong with men who do. The Torah is saying something to Jewish men. It would seem that innate gender differences are at the root of these observable discrepancies in behavior.

Without stereotyping, we should be aware of certain common tendencies. It is a masculine characteristic to be aggressive and reckless. “Boys will be boys.” And it is a feminine characteristic to be patient, sentimental and concerned about relationships and love. These are generalities, but that doesn’t make the reality any less real.

When it comes to our relationship with Israel, it wouldn’t hurt Jewish men to be a little more feminine.

A King, A Wizard and an Uncooperative G-d

2007-06-28T17:42:00.000-07:00

Last week, the Jews defeated the powerful armies of Sichon and Og. Unprovoked, the enemy had marched out with full confidence of victory, only to be annihilated on the battlefield. The Jews then occupied the entire territory of the Amorites; cities, women, bank accounts and all. These events did not go by unnoticed.

Continuing their march to the Holy Land, the Jews must now pass through Moab and Midian. These countries know what happened to Sichon and they are terrified that they will share the same fate. Balak, the king of Moab, is well aware that standing armies and conventional weaponry are useless against the Chosen Nation. Desperate to defend his country, he comes up with a new plan.

What we need, declares King Balak, is a more “spiritual” approach. A wizard! An evil spell cast by a powerful wizard is just the thing to stop the Jews.

A quick search on Google brings up a fellow named “Billam,” reputedly the most respected wizard in the business. Royal emissaries are dispatched to his home, but it’s a bad hire. Unlike Merlin, Gandalf or Voldemort, Billam answers to a higher authority.

“Spend the night here,” he replied [to the king’s emissaries], “and when G-d speaks to me, I will be able to give you an answer.”
Bamidbar 22:8

Predictably, G-d says no and the emissaries go home. But King Balak won’t take no for an answer. He sends a more distinguished delegation who promise Billam great honor and wealth if he would only curse the Jews. Again Billam tells them that he can’t do it without G-d’s permission. He invites them to spend the night and he goes to sleep. For the second time, G-d comes to him in a dream.

“If the men have come to summon you, set out and go with them. But only do exactly as I have instructed you.”
Billam got up in the morning, saddled his female donkey and set out with the Moabite dignitaries.
Ibid 22:20-21

Seems like the reasonable thing to do; after all, G-d did tell him he could go. But G-d is not happy. Here’s the very next verse:

G-d was angry that Billam went…

At night G-d tells him he can go and then in the morning G-d is angry that he went? What is going on here?! Has G-d changed His mind?

Of course, anyone with Jewish parents knows that permission is never to be equated with nachas. But, as the Ramban points out, there is another piece here. When Billam got up that second morning and went with Balak’s emissaries, they assumed that G-d had granted him permission to curse the Jews – and Billam does nothing to dispel this assumption. He does not tell them that G-d’s ban against cursing the Jews is still in place. By going with them in silence, Billam gives the impression that G-d has changed His mind, when in fact G-d was never against his going. G-d was only against his going and cursing.

There is such a thing as “changing G-d’s mind.” In certain situations, repentance and prayer can be quite effective. But neither of those is applicable here. Yesterday G-d said no cursing and now, it seems, G-d has given permission to curse. Billam has committed a Chillul HaShem, damaging G-d’s reputation as an infinite, eternal and unchanging being. This is why G-d is angry.

Billam the Wizard arrives in Moab and meets with the king. He admits that he can’t do anything without G-d’s permission, but he promises to try his best to get G-d to allow him to curse the Jews. It’s a classic pagan approach and Billam is trying it out on the One G-d. He brings dozens of sacrifices on dozens of altars, all to no avail. Once again, Billam has committed the ultimate Chillul HaShem, intimating that G-d is malleable and if you just press the right buttons, G-d will change His mind.

Now it’s time for G-d to have some fun. Instead of curses, after each of Billam’s attempts G-d instructs him to bless and praise G-d and Israel. This drives Balak absolutely mad.

These blessings were not composed by Billam; they were dictated by G-d. We are thus presented with verses of great beauty and majesty, and some have taken their rightful place in Jewish liturgy. (Having been first uttered by an enemy makes them even more delightful!) For example, our daily prayers begin with this verse: “How goodly are your tents, Jacob, your tabernacles, Israel” (Bamidbar 24:5). And this one is recited on Rosh Hashanah: “[G-d] does not look at wrongdoing in Jacob and he sees no vice in Israel; G-d their Lord is with them and they have the King’s friendship” (23:21). But there are other verses here that seem intended not only for us Jews, but for Billam and Balak themselves.

“What curse can I pronounce if G-d will not grant a curse? What divine wrath can I conjure if G-d will not be angry?”
Ibid 23:8

The prophecy is clear, but Balak doesn’t get it.

Balak said to him, “Come with me to another place… From there you may be able to curse them for me.”
Ibid 23:13

Balak thinks man can manipulate G-d. Presumably, he picked up his theology from Billam’s own behavior at the beginning of the story. So after Billam’s next attempt, G-d gets straight to the point:

“G-d is not human that He should be false, nor mortal that He should change His mind. Shall He say something and not do it, or speak and not fulfill?”
Ibid 23:19

Here G-d forces Billam to rectify his Chillul HaShem. Billam himself must declare the ultimate truth. G-d, the unmovable mover, does not change His mind. The Jews are blessed. And that decision is final.

Or is it? Something unexpected happens on the way to the end of the parsha.

Israel was staying in Shittim when the people began to behave immorally with the Moabite girls… Israel thus became involved with the Baal Peor [idol] and G-d displayed anger against Israel…
Those who died in the plagued numbered 24,000.
Ibid 25:1,3,9

G-d does not change His mind. The Jewish people are blessed and no wizard can ever curse them. But if the Jews sin, all bets are off.

The Invisible Sin

2007-06-22T12:57:00.000-07:00

There is no Jewish Pope. Or, as King Solomon put it, “There is no Tzaddik in the world who does good and does not sin” (Kohelet 7:20). No human is infallible and even the greatest of the great, our beloved and revered teacher Moshe, wasn’t perfect. He sins this week, and the Torah has no qualms telling us all about it.

The story begins when the Jews find themselves in the middle of a desert with nothing to drink. It’s a most unfunny predicament, but that’s no excuse for the shrill chutzpa that ensues:

The people attacked Moshe. “We wish we had died together with our brothers before G-d!” they declared. “Why did you bring G-d’s congregation to this desert? So that we and our livestock should die? Why did you take us out of Egypt and bring us to this terrible place?
Bamidbar 20:3-5

There’s more, but you get the idea. It’s all Moshe’s fault. At this point G-d appears and gives Moshe instructions:

“Take the staff and gather together the community, you and Aaron your brother. Speak to the rock in their presence and it will give its water. You will bring out water from the rock and provide the community and their animals with something to drink.”
Ibid 20:8

Here comes the climax:

Moshe took the staff from before G-d as he was commanded. Moshe and Aaron assembled the congregation before the rock. Moshe said, “Listen up, you rebels! Should we get water out of this rock for you?”
Moshe raised his hand and struck the rock twice with his staff. A huge amount of water came out and the community and their animals drank.
Ibid 20:9-11

G-d performed a miracle and the Jews got their water. Sounds great, but something went wrong. Very wrong.

G-d said to Moshe and Aaron, “Since you did not have enough faith in Me to sanctify Me in front of the Children of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this congregation to the land that I have given you.
Ibid 20:12

For their crime, they are doomed to die in the desert. Moshe and Aaron, the men who led the nation from the slave camps of Egypt to the shores of the Jordan River, will not live to see the Jews enter the Promised Land.

But what exactly was their crime? They got the water out of the rock. What did they do wrong?

All the commentators weigh in on this question. The Ohr HaChaim (R. Chaim ibn Atar, 1696-1743) counts no less than ten different opinions, and that’s just counting the classical, medieval commentators! Alternative explanations are offered not simply because someone came up with a new possibility, but because there are real issues with the earlier interpretations. These rabbinic debates can get a little heated.

Rashi believes the sin was hitting the rock. Moshe was ordered to talk to the rock, not hit it. The Ramban counters that G-d told Moshe to take his staff – what’s the staff for, if not for hitting? (Of course, Rashi would probably respond with Theodore Roosevelt’s credo: “Speak softly and carry a big stick!”). The Rambam writes that Moshe’s sin was losing patience with the Jews. The Ramban counters that this is utter nonsense (sic!). The Torah does not say that Moshe got angry here, and elsewhere where Moshe does if fact get angry with the Jews (cf. Bamidbar 31:14), he is not punished. Moreover, this explanation would not explain what Aaron did wrong. Other suggestions include the failure to lead the congregation in a song of thanksgiving, calling the Jews “traitors,” hitting the rock twice, and not stressing that it was G-d who was making this miracle happen (cf. 20:10). Even after all this and more, the Ohr HaChaim is unimpressed. “None of these ten interpretations satisfy the need for truth!” He points out flaws in each one and then presents his own idea.

It’s fun to read all these creative suggestions, but it’s also mildly disturbing. No one can seem to nail this sin down. Of course, biblical commentators disagree all the time, but to find a multitude of opinions and contentious debate on such a basic question is most unusual. It raises an altogether different question, and a more important one. Why didn’t the Torah just state the sin clearly? If the Torah is being so vague no one can agree what it means, it is doing so deliberately. Why?

The answer to this question takes us back to our opening statements. There may be no Pope in Judaism, but genuinely holy Jews do exist. While all men are created equal, living a Jewish life, exercising free will and performing mitzvot transforms a person. As you climb the ladder of Torah, you build spiritual muscle. You graduate to advanced levels where old challenges and demons fade away and new challenges are presented. Eventually, the Jew finds himself standing in the throne room of the King.

When dealing with spiritual supermen like Moshe and Aaron we need to be careful not to make the mistake of projecting. They are different than you and I, and they are judged differently. Standing in the presence of G-d, Moshe and Aaron are held to a different standard. Behavior that would not be considered sinful for regular people may be a major failing for people like them.

The point is this: We should have no expectation of understanding the sin of Moshe and Aaron. The Jews who stood there and watched probably didn’t notice anything wrong either. Note that G-d did not say that they actively did something wrong, it was just that they missed an opportunity to “sanctify” G-d (cf. 12:20).

The Torah reported the event faithfully. The sin of Moshe and Aaron was so subtle it was invisible and the Torah kept it that way. That’s why, to this day, no one really knows what they did wrong.

Korach is Forever

2007-06-18T22:48:00.000-07:00

Of all the complicated characters of the twenty-four books of scripture, Korach tops the list. Here we have a man of great lineage, scholarship and standing who stages a coup to overthrow his cousins, Moshe and Aaron. G-d quashes Korach and his rebellion, but we are left wondering. What was Korach thinking?!

There are many theories about what drove the man. Korach may have desired Elitzaphon’s position as leader of the Kehot branch of the Levite tribe (Rashi). He may have wanted Aaron’s position, the High Priesthood (cf. Bamidbar 16:11) He may have even dreamed of taking Moshe’s position as leader of the nation. Or maybe he just wanted to be a Kohen (cf. 16:10). Whatever he was after, our question remains. All of these appointments were made by G-d and were communicated to the nation via the prophecy of Moshe. Did Korach really think he could win a fight against G-d?

Rashi was troubled by this question and he quotes the Midrash:

Korach was an intelligent man. What caused him to act so foolishly? He was misled by a [prophetic] vision. He saw a great family tree descending from him. [He saw] Samuel, a man on par with Moshe and Aaron… [Korach] said, “Could all this greatness come from me and I should be silent?”
Midrash Tanchuma 2; Rashi Bamidbar 16:7

As it stands, the Midrash does not satisfy. Since when are holy children a license to fight with G-d? What the Midrash is really saying is this: Korach thought G-d was on his side.

Korach was so confident that he was the one most qualified for leadership, he concluded that Moshe was lying. There was no prophecy. Moshe put his brother and friends into positions of power and claimed that he was directed to do so by G-d, but in fact, these appointments were pure nepotism. It was this arrogant belief that made rebellion possible and ultimately cost Korach his life.

Man’s ability to misconstrue G-d’s messages knows no bounds. Here G-d grants Korach a prophetic vision, showing him that in centuries to come he will be blessed with a descendant named Samuel. Samuel was the prophet who anointed Saul and David as kings of Israel. David was a most unexpected appointment (cf. II Samuel 16:6-13), but Samuel had a prophecy. G-d was trying to tell Korach that political and religious appointments are made through prophecy, but the vision backfired. Korach used this very vision as evidence that he was justified in his rebellion against Moshe.

This kind of mistake is reminiscent of an episode in last week’s parsha. When the spies were making their assessment of the land of Israel, they noticed that wherever they went they saw funerals. G-d arranged these funerals to distract the locals and protect the spies from detection (Rashi, Bamidbar 13:32). But the spies had a different take. They returned to the people and gave their report: “It is a land that consumes its inhabitants” (13:32). How frustrating it must be for G-d when His providence is misconstrued!

Korach’s attack on Moshe may have begun by questioning the validity of his appointments, but it did not end there. If Moshe was a liar who claimed prophecy where there was none, why should he be trusted when it came to the mitzvot?

What did [Korach] do? He rose up, gathered 250 heads of court… and dressed them in woolen garments dyed completely techelet-blue. They came and stood before Moshe and asked him, “Is a garment that is wholly techelet obligated to have Tzitzit?” [Moshe] responded that it is obligated. They started to laugh at him. “For any other type of garment, one techelet string of Tzitzit would be sufficient (cf. Bamidbar 15:38), but this garment, made entirely of techelet wool, is not good enough?!”
Midrash Tanchuma 2; Rashi Bamidbar 16:1

Fantastic! Here we have Korach mocking the commandments of G-d, all the while believing that G-d agrees with him! The slope down into theological absurdity and spiritual suicide is a slippery one.

Yes, Korach is a complex character, but he is no anomaly. The Torah dedicates a parsha to his story not because the Torah is interested in teaching history, but because Korach sets a paradigm that is forever. There is always a Korach out there somewhere.

We would be naïve to ignore reality. In every generation there are Jews who work to undermine belief in the prophecy of Moshe and the validity of the 613 mitzvot. But here’s the kicker: Some of these Jews claim the mantle of Judaism and sincerely believe that G-d is on their side. Korach lives on!

A God Who Hates You

2007-06-08T08:38:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a crime is so bad, so ugly and so evil it shatters the World Order. Eating the Fruit of Knowledge is one example. The Golden Calf is another.

These sins changed the world – man was expelled from Eden and the Two Tablets were smashed – but G-d had contingency plans. History moved forward for a while, albeit with two strikes. Then came strike three.

In parshat Shelach, G-d pitches a fastball right over the plate and we foul it badly. This time it’s game over. The flow of history is frozen for forty years, the Temple is doomed to destruction and the Jews are fated to millennia of exile. Few people know when Adam and Eve ate the Fruit of Knowledge or when we worshipped the Golden Calf, but everyone knows what happened on the Ninth of Av. That was the day of the Sin of the Spies.

Preparing to invade the Promised Land, the Jews send a team of spies to scout out the land and report back on the strength of the enemy. Forty days later, the spies return disheartened. The enemy is too strong, they say. We can never defeat them.

The Jews are devastated by the spies’ report and they – how shall we put it – overreact.

That night, the nation wept…

“We wish we had died in Egypt! We should have died in the desert! Why is G-d bringing us to this land to die by the sword? Our wives and children will be captives. It would be best to go back to Egypt.

The people started saying to one another, “Let’s appoint a [new] leader and go back to Egypt.”

Bamidbar 14:1,3-4

This unspeakable heresy and betrayal was the great strike three. To this very day we suffer the consequences.

G-d said to the Jews, “You cried for no reason, I’ll establish it for you [as a day of] crying for generations.”

Talmud, Sanhedrin 104b

The nation’s reaction to the spies’ report altered the course of Jewish history. Forevermore, the Ninth of Av would be a day reserved for retribution. From the destruction of the Jerusalem Temples to the expulsion from Spain to the outbreak of the First World War, many great disasters of our history occurred on the Ninth of Av. Let’s take another look at the bitter words that are at the root of so much pain.

Why is G-d bringing us to this land to die by the sword? Our wives and children will be captives. It would be best to go back to Egypt.

Several questions come to mind. First of all, what is this nonsense about a return to Egypt? Did the Jews have such fond memories of slavery and infanticide? Why would they want to go back there?!

It might sound crazy at first, but if you think about it for a moment it actually makes a lot of sense. The Jews have two options. They can trek across the Sinai desert, confronting the hostile nations of Amalek, Esav, Sichon, Ammon, Moav and Midian along the way, only to arrive at their destination to do battle with the dug-in armies of Canaan. If and when the Jews manage to conquer the country, they will have to live with savage Philistine hordes and regular bouts of famine and drought. Alternatively, the Jews can turn around and return to Egypt – a country whose entire army lies dead on the floor of the Red Sea. They can waltz right back into Egypt and take over, maybe even enslaving their former masters. Think of the sweet revenge and poetic justice! And Egypt has the Nile – no fear of drought. Which option would you choose?

When the Jews learn how formidable their enemy is, it is no wonder that they prefer to return to Egypt. Is this really such a terrible crime?

It would seem that the problem here is not so much the desire to go to Egypt, but what the Jews think of G-d at this juncture. When they hear of the challenge ahead, the Jews don’t lose faith in G-d’s existence or fault Moshe’s leadership, they just conclude that G-d is out to get them. “Why is G-d bringing us to this land to die by the sword?” Just in case you didn’t catch their meaning, the Torah clarifies it later. When Moshe retells this story, he quotes the Jews as saying something even more revealing and disturbing:

“G-d brought us out of Egypt because He hated us! He wanted to turn us over to the Amorites to destroy us!”

Devarim 1:27

When the going gets tough, the Jews think G-d hates them. It’s a strange thing to think. What could G-d possibly have against these poor ex-slaves wandering in the desert? Is there a rational explanation for this kind of pessimistic theology?

This too is not all that crazy. R. Ovadya Seforno (Italy, 1470-1550) reminds us that the Jews were quite pagan when they lived in Egypt. They had not forgotten their sins in Egypt, nor did they forget the sin of the Golden Calf. Brought to the impenetrable borders of Israel, they assumed that Judgment Day had arrived. G-d was going to kill them all.

It is not an unreasonable assumption – if you have a selective memory. The Jews see the enemy, remember their sins, feel unworthy and assume that G-d hates them. But the Jews forgot a few things. They forgot the Ten Plagues. They forgot the Exodus. They forgot the Splitting of the Sea. They forgot Mt. Sinai, Torah, the Mishkan, the Manna, etc., etc. After all the divine love showered upon them these past two years, could the Jews really think that G-d took them out of Egypt in order to destroy them? G-d was troubled by this same question, but He had a funny way of asking it:

“How long will they not believe in Me, despite all the miracles that I have performed in their midst?”

Bamidbar 14:11

Not believe? The Jews clearly believed in G-d, they just thought that He was out to get them. It seems, at least as far as G-d is concerned, that belief in an unforgiving, hateful G-d is not belief at all.

How did this happen? How did the Jews make such a terrible mistake? They focused on the negative and they forgot the positive. A pessimistic outlook caused them to misread their predicament and think that G-d hated them when, in fact, He loved them very much. This was the sin that destroyed the world.

Holy Conformity!

2007-05-25T18:18:00.000-07:00

Our world is plagued by terrible outbreak of cheating. Students, politicians, executives and athletes have all been caught fudging their numbers. Even our parsha is in on the action.

The official number for Naso is 176 verses. It’s a terrific number – a Torah record and the dread of every Bar Mitzvah boy through the ages. But it is a number that needs an audit. Truth be told, Naso has only 121 verses. It claims 176 by repeating five verses eleven times! How did Naso get away with that? Here’s the story:

When the dedication ceremonies were over and the Mishkan opened for business, the first to bring offerings were the leaders of the twelve tribes. On successive days, the prince of each tribe arrived with a medley of voluntary offerings. Interestingly, they all chose to bring identical offerings. Instead of simply stating that the princes all brought the same offerings, the Torah reiterates the list of offerings for each prince.

The one to bring his offering on the first day was Nachshon son of Aminadav of the tribe of Judah. His offering was as follows: One silver bowl weighing 130 shekels and one silver sacrificial basin weighing 70 shekels both filled with wheat flour kneaded with olive oil for a meal offering. One gold incense bowl… One young bull, one ram…
On the second day, Nethanel son of Tzuar, prince of Issachar, brought his offering. The offering that he brought was one silver bowl weighing 130 shekels and one silver sacrificial basin weighing 70 shekels… One gold incense bowl… One young bull, one ram…
On the third day, it was the prince of Zevulun’s descendants, Eliav son of Chelon. His offering was one silver bowl weighing 130 shekels…
On the fourth day…
Bamidbar 7:12-30

Why is the Torah doing this? Think of the added expense in parchment and ink, not to mention the additional hours of scribe labor. Besides, the Torah has a long established tradition of being terse and concise. Why, when it comes to these offerings, does the Torah deem it necessary to write the same thing over and over again when all we need is one little verse to tell us that they all brought the same thing? (The Steipler Gaon once commented that the Torah must be a divine document with mystical secrets. No human author would waste his time writing like this!)

The sages taught: “Even though their offerings were identical, they all had great things [in mind] and each [prince] had his own intent…”
Midrash Rabba, Bamidbar 13:14

The Midrash tells us that despite the fact that the princes all brought the same offerings, each prince had a different kavanah – an intent that was unique, personal and relevant to the history and mission of their tribe. The Midrash recounts the thoughts of each prince at great length; twelve interpretations of the same offerings, each with different meanings, references and symbolisms.

Intent is no less an ingredient than flour or cattle. Each offering was a personal expression of the prince who brought it and, in the mind of the prince and in the eyes of G-d, was perfectly unique. The Torah had to write out the offerings of each prince separately, for although it may appear as if they were all doing the same thing, in fact, no two offerings were alike. Each offering warrants it own verse no less than if the prince had presented a different animal altogether.

It turns out that the repetitive verses of our parsha actually have something very important to say about Jewish practice and mitzvah observance. To the human observer, religious Jews are a group of people who perform rituals like a bunch of automatons. But the truth is, my mitzvot have little in common with the mitzvot of the next guy. Whether it is prayer, Shabbat or even eating Matzah, no two mitzvot are ever the same. Not because the external act is different, but because the intent is different. While a mitzvah done mindlessly is still a mitzvah, intent elevates and personalizes the act.

This idea runs against convention thinking, especially among teens. In our society, when someone wants to express his or her individuality, it often involves acting out counter-culturally. Tattoos, body piercing, hair dying and radical clothes are some of the ways to be different today. For those of us who are a little more “mature” it might be a yellow corvette or a cosmetic makeover. But our parsha tells us not to fear conformity. Conforming to social norms does not make you boring; it forces your individuality to express itself in the realm of thought. And that makes you far more different than a new hairstyle ever will.

Earlier in our parsha we find the fascinating mitzvah of the Nazirite vow. A man or a woman can take a special vow that forbids wine, haircuts and contact with the dead. This combination of abstinence seems to generate an elevated state of spirituality. “As long as he is a Nazirite, he is holy to G-d” (Bamidbar 6:8). The problem is that when this period ends, a sin-offering is brought. “This is the law of what the Nazirite must do when the term of his Nazirite vow is complete… and one unblemished yearling female sheep for a sin-offering…” (6:14). If becoming a Nazirite is a “holy” thing to do, why must a sin-offering be brought? Where’s the sin?

The commentator’s have different answers to this question. Some suggest that being a Nazir is so great, ending it is a sin (Nachmanidies) while others (R. Solomon Astruc) believe that this guy must have sinned big time - why else would he suddenly take an oath to abstain from wine?! However, the second half of our parsha would suggest a simpler explanation. As holy as he is, the sin of the Nazir is his failure to conform.

What the Torah would really like to see is a holy conformity. Not a conformity that surrenders individuality, but a conformity that writes new verses that match the old. When we find a way to express our private kavanah within the system of mitzvot shared by all Jews, that is when we discover true holiness and the path of the princes of Israel.

Bamidbar and Shavuot: Becoming a Chariot

2007-05-18T12:46:00.000-07:00

The book of Bamidbar starts this week. Now that the Jews have freedom, Torah and a Mishkan, the only thing left to do is to make Aliyah. It turns out that that last step is a lot easier said than done.

Getting from Sinai to Jerusalem is a bit of an ordeal. Due to some unfortunate “mistakes,” it will take the Jews 40 years to get to Israel and another 440 will pass before King Solomon builds the First Temple. (For those of us with time management issues, it is helpful to know that things often take a lot longer than people expect.) But all of this is in the future. Right now, we stand at the beginning of the book and all systems are go. The sky is clear and the Jews are preparing to march.

Moving millions of men, women and children across a desert is a logistical nightmare. Just one year earlier they were making bricks and now the Jews had to organize in a way that would challenge a trained army. Complicating matters further, each of the thirteen tribes needed to keep its members in formation. But the Jews were no ordinary people and this was no ordinary hike. There would be no chaos. In the center of their camp stood the Mishkan and it held two tablets and the Glory of G-d.

Getting to Israel is one thing; bringing G-d to Israel is quite another. The journey ahead is not simply a matter of traveling from point A to point B. With the completion of the Mishkan, the Shechina entered the camp and the Jewish Nation became the escort of G-d – a responsibility and a privilege that until now had been the exclusive domain of the administering angels. Strange as it sounds, G-d does have a divine entourage in Heaven. Here’s an eyewitness account.

I was among the captives on the river Chebar when the heavens opened and I saw visions of angels…
I saw, and behold a stormy wind came from the north, a great cloud and a flashing fire… From its midst was the form of four Chayah-angels, their appearance was that of a human form. Each one had four faces and every one had four wings. Their feet were straight, the soles of their feet were like those of a calf’s foot, and they shined like a vision of polished copper… The form of the Chayah-angels had the appearance of burning coals of fire…
The form above the heads of the Chayah-angels was that of a firmament, looking like a fearsome ice spread out above their heads… And above the firmament that was over their heads, like a vision of a sapphire, was the form of a throne…
Then the spirit lifted me up and I heard behind me the sound of a great noise, “Blessed is the glory of G-d in His place.”

Yechezkel the Prophet described his vision in the first chapter of his book, but human language and the mortal mind fail when they attempt to image G-d’s divine “chariot.” (Paintings are even worse!) It’s just too removed from physical reality.

In contrast, our parsha tells us exactly how it looked when the Jews traversed the Sinai Peninsula 3300 years ago. Spread out across the desert flats like divisions of a massive army, twelve tribes stand in formation around the Levite camp. Banners snap in the wind. Trumpets. Clouds of Glory. And in the center of it all, a majestic palace – the Mishkan – shines in the sun. These are images we can well imagine. At that point in history, the Jews were no less divine and no less the chariot of G-d than all the fiery, multi-winged angels of Yechezkel’s vision.

The Jews of the desert and the angels of heaven make for a fascinating contrast. In fact, the two match each other quite neatly.

In the same way that G-d created the four directions of physical space, He also surrounded His heavenly throne with four angels… And G-d organized the flag-bearing [Israelites on earth into four divisions] to match them.
Midrash Rabba, Bamidbar 2:10

How do people get the job of angels? Why are the Jews escorting the Shechina? Because the Shechina is in the Mishkan.

…Moshe completed the work [of constructing the Mishkan]. The cloud then covered the Tabernacle and the Mishkan was filled with the Glory of G-d.
Shemot 40:33-34

But questions remain. Why did the Shechina descend to earth? Why would G-d abandon the celestial angels for a tent of wood, gold and animal skins? What is so special about the Mishkan? The answer is not hard to figure out; it sits quietly in a box in the Holy of Holies. The answer is the Tablets of the Law. It is the presence of the Torah that imbues the Mishkan with sanctity and transforms it into the ideal sanctuary for G-d. This should help us better appreciate the words of the Ramban (1194-1270):

Now the Mishkan in the desert was bordered just as Mt. Sinai [was bordered] when G-d’s Glory was there (cf. Shemot 19:12). G-d commands, “Any unauthorized person who enters [the Mishkan] shall die” (Bamidbar 18:7) just as He said earlier [regarding Sinai], “…he shall be stoned” (Shemot 19:13). G-d commands, “They will not come and see the sacred [furniture] being packed and die [as a result]” (Bamidbar 4:20) just as He warned earlier [regarding Sinai], “…they must not cross the boundary in order to see the Divine, because this will cause many to die” (Shemot 19:21). G-d commands, “Let [the Levites] be entrusted with guarding the sanctuary and guarding the altar” (Bamidbar 18:5) just as G-d said earlier[regarding Sinai], “The Kohanim, who come near to G-d, must also sanctify themselves… the Kohanim and the people must not violate the boundary…” (Shemot 19:22,24).
Ramban, Introduction to Bamidbar

Simply put, all the rules and regulations of Sinai are present in the Mishkan. Why? Because the very Divine Presence that was manifest at Sinai has now transferred over to the Mishkan. It’s not hard to understand. Where the Torah goes, G-d goes.

This is why we read the first chapter of Yechezkel on the morning of Shavuot. Now that the Torah is in our hands and the Shechina rests in our community, we need some on-the-job training from the pros. The angels may have had the job first, but now G-d is our responsibility.