Wednesday, November 25, 2009

On the Trail of Blessings: Mother Knows Best?

[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 deceive his father Yitzchok and pull off the greatest heist in history, or better said, a heist of history itself. In retrospect it is easy for us to see that this bold act was a fulfillment of Hashem's will; the very mission of the Chosen Nation hangs on it. Nonetheless, we may ask how Rivkah knew that this was the right thing to do.

When Rivka was suffering through her painful pregnancy, ותלך לדרש את השם, "she went to inquire of Hashem." The response informed her that שני גיים בבטנך, "there are two nations in your womb." The Torah uses an unusual spelling for the word "nations" in this verse, a spelling which indicates "pride." Rashi offers an Midrashic explanation:
This refers to Antoninus and Rebbe [Yehuda HaNasi], whose tables never lacked for radish or lettuce, neither in the summer nor during the rainy season. (Avoda Zara 11)
Rivka is told a prophecy. Within her womb she carries the fathers of two proud nations, nations that will be blessed with leaders of great power and wealth.

As the boys grow up, Rivka sees that the two boys have very different natures. "Eisav was a man who knew how to hunt, a man of the field, and Yaakov was a man of sincerity who sat [studying] in tents" (25:27). Rivka understands that prophecy is not merely for inquiring minds. Prophecy is a mandate and the recipient must act to see it through. It is easy to see that Eisav was gifted with the genes of a leader, he has the skills and talents for power and wealth. Yaakov, on the other hand, lacks these talents and he will need his father's blessings to make his destiny a reality.

The prophecy Rivka received before her sons were born is what gave her the license to direct the blessings of wealth and power to Yaakov. 

This explanation also resolves a different problem. As Rashi tells us repeatedly, he is focused exclusively on פשט, the straightforward meaning of the text. To paraphrase Rashi's own words, if you are interested in reading Midrash, you can find it on the shelf (cf. Rashi to Bereishis 3:8). Why then does Rashi quote this Midrash about Antoninus and Rebbe? The answer is that this interpretation of the prophecy is the only way to explain Rivka's subsequent behavior!  

II

Yaakov does as he is told, but he's clearly not happy about it. 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.

·  As we have learned, Eisav's blessings including the blessing of Leah, who was destined to marry Yitzchok's firstborn son. Yaakov presumably knew this; nonetheless, he wanted to marry Rachel, not Leah. 
·  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 Yaakov forces the angel of Eisav to recognize his right to the berachos 
(Rashi to 32:27) and demands that he do so immediately (Rashi to 32:29). In the end, Eisav himself explicitly cedes the berachos to his brother! (Rashi 33:9) 

[Continue the Trail here.]

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

On the Trail of Blessings: Having It All

[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. Before you begin, read this post which explores the multiple delivery systems of divine blessings.]

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 the blessings promise a great future for Avraham's descendants, one wonders if God is actually talking about a single nation. Are all these material and spiritual blessings to be received by a single nation? Or maybe there are multiple 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; see however Ramban to 27:4). 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. After fathering twin boys and seeing the younger grasping the heel of the elder, it was only natural for Yitzchok to assume that Hashem's two blessings referred to the symbiotic 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).

It is important to recognize that Yitzchok held the איש שדה in the highest regard. Unlike his father, Yitzchok engaged in agriculture. "Yitzchok planted in that land and [even though there was a drought - Rashi] in that year it gave out one hundred measures [more than expected - Rashi]" (26:12). For Yitzchok, the שדה is the place where one can witness Hashem's miraculous blessings firsthand. 

The centrality of a שדה in the mind of Yitzchok can further be seen in his choice of words when he kisses Yaakov: 
He smelled the smell of his clothes and he blessed him and said, "See! The aroma of my son is like the aroma of a שדה which Hashem has blessed." (27:27)  
When Yitzchok prays, he goes to the שדה: "Yitzchok went out to pray in the field" (24:63). The Talmud (Berachos 26b) derives the afternoon prayer from this verse, stating that Yitzchok was the originator of Mincha. Mincha poses a particular challenge for the איש שדה, as it is offered in the middle of day, requiring the working man to stop what he is doing and turn to Hashem. This takes גבורה, the attribute of our father Yitzchok, the human קרבן.

It is therefore Yitzchok's intention to bless his firstborn son Eisav with the role of the איש שדה. This is particularly appropriate, as the firstborn also has the role of כהן, with the responsibilities of עבודה.   

(Yitzchok is blissfully unaware of the fact that Eisav is a wicked criminal, unworthy of any sacred task. His wife Rivkah bears some of the blame for this situation, for from the beginning she protected Yitzchok from the truth. Note her apparent failure to share with him the prophecy she received which explicitly states that the elder son will serve the younger (cf. 25:23). More clear is her dramatic plea that Yaakov must leave Israel to find a wife (27:46), as Rivkah refuses to inform Yitzchok about Eisav's intentions to murder Yaakov.)

Yitzchok loves Eisav and intends to designate him as the holy איש שדה. Such was Yitzchok's vision, but it is not to be. Yaakov takes all.

[Continue the trail with part-two here.]

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Vashti Lives!

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!

Friday, July 25, 2008

In the Mood for Tisha B'Av?

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.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Free at Fifty

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.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Purim Afterthoughts, Part II

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

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 Reb 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.