The Pshat Heard 'Round the World

Accept No Substitutes

2026-05-08T13:16:00.000+03:00

Parashat Behar-Bechukotai (Revised May 8, 2026)

This week's double parashah, Behar and Bechuotai, bring to a close the book of Vayikra, a book the all-consuming focus of which is, undoubtably, KEDUSHAH, holiness. The last chapter is concerned largely with the kind of vows people make in dedicating something to the service of Hashem in the Mikdash. There are many laws regulating this seemingly noble motivation and its accompanying action, but my attention was taken this time around by the following law: "If (the devoted thing) is an animal of the kind from which an offering is brought to Hashem, any one which is given to Hashem shall be kodesh. One shall not exchange it (lo yachalifenu) nor shall one substitute for it (yamir oto), good for bad or bad for good; now if one DOES substitute for it, it will be that it and its substitute will be kodesh." Vayikra 27:10-11

This mitzvah turns out to be very curious, because one is lashed for its intentional violation, although the rule is that one is not lashed for violating a prohibition where the violation entails no action. Now the only way to interchange a holy animal with a profane one is through a declaration, not through physically moving them, yet we have a principle that speech is not considered the equivalent of action. So, this law, knows as Temurah is an exception. Why?

Another curiosity. There would seem to be two separate prohibitions: exchange (hachlafah) and substitution (hamarah), for the Torah tells us to do neither this nor that. Nevertheless, they are accounted as only one prohibition. What then IS the difference between hachlafah and temurah? Rav Shimshon Rafael Hirsch has an extended discussion of this, and he explains that hachlafah derives from the root meaning "to change places", and he shows how it is used to refer to "trading up", switching bad for good. Hamarah means exactly the opposite - switching something good for something bad, as in the verse, "Has any nation substituted for its god, even though those are no gods; yet My people has substituted worthless for their glorious [G-d]." (Yirmiyahu 2:11).

The Rambam explains the prohibition as a penalty placed by the Torah upon one whose yetzer hara is creeping back onto the scene after dedicating an animal for his atonement, and he wants to save on the expense of his teshuva process, so he wants to swap a poorer quality animal for a fine one. The Torah penalizes him by making both animals kodesh, and it prohibits even swapping a poorer quality (yet acceptable) animal for a better one so as not to open the door for the opposite, since it is all based upon a somewhat subjective assessment of the animals value. Rav Hirsch then notes: the term hamarah meaning swapping bad for good, is used subsequently generically for either kind of swapping, to indicate that once we are speaking of something denoted as kodesh, ANY change of designation indicates a complete misconception of the nature of the holy, and is by definition bad.

Rav Shmuel Skaist, in his album, "Rav Shmuel", has the following line in one of his songs: "Everybody wants to be somebody else (sing like a mocking bird); act in the theatre Everybody want to be somebody else". Hashem has declared each one of us as His holy offering, we live life and are ultimately consumed by it as a holy offering on the altar of existence. Each one of us has an absolutely indelible holiness. We imagine how much better it would be if we could swap our essence with the beckoning example of what stands outside our beings. WE don't just want what's in the greener pastures on the other side of our consciousness, we want to BE the other, believing there we find redemption.

But if we go there, we don't transfer the holiness of our essence to a new and better circumstance, but having violated the trust Hashem has placed in us by granting us our holy souls, we now take on a double burden, responsible for the self we sought to jettison (which remains ours, and holy) AND the new project which we have not brought into our own realm. As another, different folk music tradition counsels: "Hold what you got".

Attempting to trade up or down with our own essences is not an act of teshuvah or self-improvement, it's an uncalled for act of desperation on the part of someone who has forgotten how precious he/she is to Hashem, has forgotten that his/her birth is a declaration and imparting of holiness on Hashem's part, His gift to the world of an essence that he has called upon you to deliver. May this Shabbat be your FedEx to the universe!

Fixing the Flat with No Words to Spare

2026-04-24T16:45:00.006+03:00

Emor

(revised and updated April 2026)

Parashat Emor concludes with one of the only narrative passages in all of Chumash Vayikra - the story of the man who blasphemes. Although the account is brief, it must be of critical importance, for otherwise, why interrupt the halachic flow of Vayikra, a Chumash suspended in time with almost no dateable events, to tell us about a single foul-mouthed boor?

Avot is your Best Friend - The Pshat Heard 'Round the World Returns!

2026-04-21T17:28:00.000+03:00

I created The Pshat Heard 'Round the World some eighteen years ago, and I posted weekly on the parashah for about two years. Other items were added here and there subsequently, but for a long time it's been inactive. IYH, I will be starting a new series of pieces on tefillah, with special attention to the first beracha of the Amidah. My claim and approach will be that the first beracha of the Amidah teaches us how to pray and how to pray it! We'll start with a few preparatory and introductory pieces before jumping in to the beracha itself, phrase by phrase. I am considering enabling comments and dealing with "hackish" comments as they inevitably come, so keep tuned.

Trickle-Down Theory

2026-02-15T16:24:00.001+02:00

Pshat:

MiIgra Rama l'Bira Amikta!
From a high roof to a deep pit!

That's how some describe the sudden transition from the incomparable, dizzying spiritual heights of Matan Torah in last week's parasha to the mundane, all-too-earthly laws regulating such unspiritual acts as assault, murder, injury, property damage, enslavement and the like. How could Moshe one moment be reassuring the people regarding the lasting impact of their near-death spiritual high at Mt. Sinai, and the next minute be instructing them how properly to sell their daughters into slavery? How do WE move from the sublime and spiritual to the ever-so-concrete and material in a single week?

The Midrash is also disturbed, it seems, by the shift to the mundane realm. Our Sages were constantly fending off the attacks of early Christianity and other sects who pointed to the preoccupation with concrete details as an indication that Jews had lost their spiritual way. Shemot Rabba chapter 30 devotes lengthy discourses to championing the laws of Parashat Mishpatim, showing how dear they are to Hashem, and how precious they should be to us. In one passage, the Midrash attempts to refute the notion that Mishpatim is a turning away from Sinai by showing the parallels between Aseret Hadirot and the opening verses of Mishpatim. It claims that Mishpatim opens with the laws of Eved Ivri because the first verse of Aseret Hadibrot is: "I am Hashem your G-d Who took you out from the Land of Egypt, from the house of slaves".

But wait a second. If Hashem took us out of slavery and bondage, then why do we need laws regulating slavery? Shouldn't slavery be forbidden? And even if we concede that it is permissible to hold slaves from the other nations when sold to us BY those other nations, or taken as captives in war, what place is there for laws regarding a Hebrew slave, an Eved Ivri? How can one Jew hold another in bondage?

There is so much depth and powerful spiritual allusions to be had both from the laws of Eved Ivri - we can't possible do the subject justice in a few short paragraphs. Nevertheless, let's explore a few aspects.

I believe there is an underlying axiom at work here. With apologies to Rousseau, it goes like this: Man is born with the potential to become free, but everywhere tends to entangle himself and others in chains. The emergence from slavery in Egypt, as made clear by many commentators in a number of different ways, is only truly complete when the people hear Hashem's voice at Sinai. When at the end of Parashat Yitro, they flee in fear, they return to a realm in which bondage of one sort or another is an inherent possibility in every transaction and interaction.

There are two ways in which a Jew can become the slave of another Jew - an Eved Ivri. 1) If he is unable to pay restitution for a theft he committed, the Beit Din may sell him into slavery. If he is destitute, he may sell himself into slavery. But whether this slavery is imposed upon him or "freely chosen", it is a kind of taking shelter to reconstitute his live via atonement toward a new start, a life of freedom. After six years, he is recreated and emerges to "rest" in the shade of his own will in the seventh.

But what if he says, "I LOVE my master...I will NOT go free!". In that case, his non-functioning ear, which heard at Sinai "For to ME are the people of Israel slaves" - and NOT slaves to (those who themselves are actually My) slaves" - and did not heed or comprehend - that ear must be pierced through. Then the Eved Ivri may stay until the end of the current jubilee cycle, a maximum of 50 years, but at that time, he is sent forth willy nilly!

Freedom is intoxicating, dangerous and frightening. True freedom, that of the spiritual adept, freedom TO be close to Hashem - means freedom FROM out comfortable self-images which work so well for us in our day-to-day lives, but keep us from gazing up and in. We all talk about growth, about teshuva, about going beyond ourselves, about yearning, to the point that that speech itself becomes a reassuring patter that, by pointing to the beyond without demanding we begin the journey here and now, serves as the slavemaster's strongest manacles.

Aren't we all huddling under protective mantle of Eved Ivri? Aren't we all afraid to poke our heads out and see Sinai once again? And seeing ourselves in this way, is it even conceivable that we could see others and treat them any differently? Isn't it the case that if we ourselves function on a level of Eved Ivri, we run a good chance of relating to others as a Eved Kena'ani. Don't we hold the solid image of the other as our own "intellectual property"? How dare they break free and grow and change? Isn't this really the dynamic behind that innocent statement, "No! You CAN'T be Plony! You were just a little kid last I saw you, it hasn't been that long, has it?"

It's been snowy the last few days. Water, that lovely flow of life, has congealed on our roads and in our yards, impeding progress. That's keep my nose to the Gemara grindstone pretty well this last days, and "coincidentally" we've been learning a passage discussing, in passing, the laws regulating when a worker who has contracted to work for a householder can opt out of the contract. Interestingly, the law is that, though he may have contracted for a full day, he can opt out mid-day and receive payment for the work he has done (assuming that only causes the householder inconvenience and not actually monetary loss). The householder may not hold his salary hostage to the worker completing the day's work. This is learned out from that verse referenced before: "For to Me are the people of Israel slaves" - and not slaves to slaves. A marginal note on the page sent me to a note in the Shulchan Aruch, Choshen Mishpat, chapter 333 (do the gematria and note the first words of this paragraph - chilling!). There we learn that SINCE if an Eved Ivri works for three years and is sick for three years, he need not fill out the time he's missed, seeing as how half the six year period of servitude has been completed, THEREFORE it is forbidden for a Jew to hire himself out in a contractually obligating way for more than three years, since he is effectively making himself into a slave!!

In other words, we have the spiritual obligation to avoid the temptation to take refuge in the security of a stultifying stability in our life circumstances and the visions for our future. We must break free of our own grasp again and again, for only thus do we hear and internalize the resounding voice of "I am Hashem..Who took you out". And the place, the only place where such an escape could be meaningful, even revelatory, is here, down here, down in the deep pit of the mundane.

The snow is melting. I can hear it trickle as it flows from the roof above my high-ceilinged room down into the deep cuts on the hillside below our cantilevered home. What seemed so solid just two days and five degrees ago is percolating once again into the depths, to emerge in spring, cloud and blossom. I'm neither Rocky nor Bullwinkle, but I'm going to try to follow, because, paradoxically, that's the way up the now-unbounded mountain of Sinai, where, on that shrouded peak beyond concept, our meeting with the Eternal One awaits.

Frontlet Lobotomy

2019-12-03T21:40:00.001+02:00

The tefillin worn on the head (henceforth, “shel rosh”) differ in a number of respects from the tefillin worn on the arm (henceforth, “shel yad”). One of the differences is this: Though both must contain the four passages in the Torah which make mention of the mitzvah of tefillin, the shel yad has all four passages written on a single parchment, in the order they appear in the Torah, rolled up and placed in the single compartment of the shel yad. The shel rosh, however, is constructed such that it has four small compartments side by side. Though these compartments appear to be tightly bound to one another, in fact, they are almost actually completely separate from one another. They only join at a common base, like the fingers of one’s hand. Into each compartment is placed one of the four passages, written on four separate parchments.

Here is a list of the passages, in the order they appear in the Torah:

1. Kadesh Li – Shemot 13:1-10

2. V’hayah ki Y’vi’acha – Shemot 12:11-16

3. Sh’ma – Devarim 6:4-9

4. V’hayah im Shamoa – Devarim 11:13-21

Since they are written on separate parchments the question arises: in which order should they be inserted into the four compartments of the shel rosh? This question is raised and argued in the Talmud (Menachot 36b):

Our Rabbis taught: What is their order? Kadesh Li and V'hayah ki y'vi'acha from the right; Sh’ma and V'hayah im Shamoa from the left.

But wasn’t it taught exactly the opposite?!

Abbaye said: This isn't a problem: one refers to the right of the "reader" and the other refers to the right of the "wearer", and the "reader" reads according to their order.

Rav Hananel said that Rav said: if one reverses the order, the tefillin are invalid.

Abbaye said: This refers only to switching inner with outer passages, but inner with inner and outer with outer – no problem.

Wait, this is confusing - what is the order of the passages of the shel rosh? Rashi says: They are placed in the order they appear in the Torah, as above: 1,2,3,4. Rabbenu Tam, Rashi’s grandson, says otherwise: the order is 1,2,4,3, since it says “from the right” and “from the left”.

Both Rashi and Rabbenu Tam find support for their approaches by emphasizing one or another section of the passage above, as well as from numerous external sources, elsewhere in the Gemara as well as elsewhere in the classic corpus of Jewish tradition. We rule in accordance with Rashi, but many, especially in the Chasidic and Sephardic communities have the practice to fulfill the mitzvah of tefillin by also donning tefillin made according to Rabbenu Tam’s approach.

Though I am neither Sephardi nor a Chasid, I do find the symmetry which informs the approach of Rabbenu Tam powerfully attractive. For, as Tosafot mention, when the passages are inserted according to this approach, the “havayot” (that is, the two instances of the word “v’hayah” - and it will be - which begin passages 2 and 4) occupy the adjoining middle two, “protected” compartments. As our Gemara concludes, there does seem to be some sense of “inner” and “outer” passages. Further, as the word for being is also, in a different form, the word for Being (Hashem), it is fitting that they be together.

Symmetry characterizes almost everything holy – consider the construction of the vessels of the Holy Temple – the menorah, the Holy Ark with its cherubs, the table for the "facebreads" (lechem hapanim) are just a few of the items constructed with careful attention to symmetry. And, in the ultimate evocation of symmetry, we are told in a passage in Berachot that Hashem also wears Tefillin (however we are to understand that). And the passages of Hashem’s tefillin are all praises of Am Yisrael!!

So, although as a “good misnaged”, I don’t personally use tefillin of Rabbenu Tam, I am drawn to what they evoke. That the shel rosh is a unity of four separated, yet not entirely separate elements has led some to interpret what that symbolism might be. Rabbi Yehoshua Falk (in his commentary on the relevant passage in the Tur) asserts that they represent the four senses which are located in the head: seeing, hearing, smelling and tasting. Feeling, he says, is represented by the shel yad. Performing the mitzvah of tefillin, then, is binding and devoting those senses to Hashem.

I would like to “take his idea and run with it”. We know that since time immemorial, human beings have created symbolic representations of bodies, limbs and organs, both external and internal. The most famous representation of an inner organ is the ubiquitous heart-shape. Now how did they know what a heart - even a stylized heart - looked like? It seems that our ancestors, on occasion, had reason dissect both animal and human cadavers, and they were certainly familiar with basic human anatomy, if not full organ function. If they knew the structure of the heart, they knew the structure of the brain.

And the brain (that is, the cerebrum, the largest and by far the most prominent part of the human brain) is comprised of four lobes – the frontal, temporal, parietal and occipital (the limbic lobe is interior, and only named as such in the late 19^th century by Broca). The lobes adhere to one another, but are actually separated from each other along fissures, except at their bases, where, in the inner regions, they are connected. Each lobe performs a variety of distinct but (perhaps) related functions. Taken together (which is what our brain is and does), they generate our minds.

Mind is, then, (or at least, presents itself as) an emergent property of the brain. By wearing our “brains” on our heads, we are declaring that the “whole of mind (whose evocations of being - havayot_- lie in the center of the Rabbenu Tam tefillin) is greater than the sum of the (four) distinct parts (lobes)”. We are raising up and binding to Hashem not only the four head-based senses, but the entirety of our mind, our consciousnesses, our wills-to-be. (Note that, kabbalistically, Will is “outbodied” to the soul levels above our heads, which have yet to come into our lives). And since an emergent property, as phenomenon, remains a part of that which generated it, then, just as brain generates mind, mind impacts brain. And when we also reflect upon the assertion that Hashem (perhaps the “reader” mentioned in the Gemara in Menachot) wears tefillin, that symmetry-become-wholeness is then taken to an entirely different level.

May we yearn to reach that level of awareness, of mindfulness, of appreciation of being part of the symmetry so that whether we wear them or not, we embody the emergent “many-become-one” dynamism that is the battery powering the tefillin as envisioned by Rabbenu Tam.

Here I Am Not

2019-11-22T11:07:00.002+02:00

The brief exchange between Avraham and Yitzchak on the way to the Akeidah, less than two verses long, and sandwiched between the two phrases “and the two of them walked together”, is the only conversation between this primal father-and-son pair recorded in the Torah.

It is all the more powerful because of its brevity, because of its singleness, and because of what it doesn’t say explicitly, yet, by omission, makes overwhelmingly present.

When they set off for Har HaMoriah, Avraham takes only what the moment requires – he leaves behind his servants, the donkey and, presumably, any of the provisions they brought on their three-day journey, he takes the wood for the offering (placing it upon Yitzchak), the fire and the knife. That’s all there is – two men, wood, fire and knife. Thus provisioned, they set off together. Here is the conversation.

Yitzchak says to Avraham, his father, he says, “my father”,

and Avraham says, “Here I am son”,

and he (Yitzchak) says, “here are the fire and the wood, and where is the kid for an offering?”.

Avraham says, “G-d will see for Himself the kid for an offering, son…

Note how Yitchak omits reference to the knife. It’s as though it’s not there for him, even though, in the spare furnishings of the scene, it’s all too there, as it is horribly all-too-there when Avraham soon thereafter sends forth his hand and takes the knife to slaughter his son. At that moment, Avraham becomes one with the knife.

Note also how Avraham effectively dismisses any concern about the absence of the kid for an offering. Yitzchak notices the absence, but it’s as though that absence is inconsequential for Avraham. As indeed it must be, since Avraham knows very well that the kid is present – and here, the double-meaning of kid in colloquial English serves us well. Yitzchak has become one with the kid.

With the scene set, with father and son together yet occupying such different worlds - let’s look at Avraham’s response to Yitzchak’s utterance, “my father”.

Recall that twice in this story, Hashem calls to Avraham. Each time Avraham responds by saying “Here I am” – “Hinneni”. A call is needed when there is distance or some sort of separation (such as station or rank) between the caller and the one being called. Hashem calls to those He seeks to draw near, and they respond with their presence: Here I am! Thus responded also Yaakov, Moshe, and Shmuel to Hashem’s call to bridge the seemingly infinite chasm. Here, however, Yitzchak has no need to call to his father, for he is right beside him! Rather, he simply says to him “my Father”. The tone, and thus, import of Yitzchak’s words is unclear, nevertheless, Avraham here too responds with those same words, “Here I am, son”. A strange response indeed, since, since Yitzchak surely knew that his father was right there. So, what could Avraham have meant to convey by that response?

Let’s look more carefully at the word “Here I am” - Hinneni. The precise form of the word as it appears here, and syntactical positioning, is unique in all the Tanach. For while the word “Hin’nee is not an unusual word, the pausal form, pronounced not “hin’nEE” but rather “hiNNEni” appears ONLY where the word carries a disjunctive cantillation marking (in almost all cases, an etnachta). It is in this usage, at the pause, shorn of any attendant verb which would otherwise follow, that the word “Hinneni” unloads the full power of the presencing it invokes. Yet in our verse, the pausal form, “hinneni” appears despite the fact that it bears a conjunctive cantillation marking, joining it to the next word. We read not “Here I am {pause}, my son” but rather, in one breath, “Here-I-am-my-son”.

Further: While the word “hinneni” features a dagesh chazak (a dot indicating a doubled consonant) in the first of its two letters “nun” throughout the Tanach, only here, in all of Tanach, do both letters “nun” in “hinnenni” receive a dagesh chazak. Now, “Hinneni” is simply a contraction of “Hinneh Ani” – Here I am. The dagesh is called for in the first “nun”, since it compensates for the absorbed consonant “aleph” from “ani” by doubling that “nun”. But there is no grammatical reason or justification for the second “nun” also to bear a dagesh.

Unless there is yet another meaning being evoked. The word “einenni”, a contraction of the words “ein ani” – “I am not” - is the polar opposite of “hinneni”, as it denotes absence rather than presence. It even sounds like “hinenni”! And here, too, an “aleph” is absorbed and needs compensation. But in this case, however, the dagesh compensating for the absorbed “aleph” is the second “nun”, since the first “nun”, following a long vowel, cannot carry a dagesh.

So, what does the word “hinnenni” with dageshim in both “nuns” convey? “HERE I AM NOT”! Simultaneous presence and absence. Avraham and Yitzchak are together, alone, for the only time in their lives (after the Akedah, Yitzchak famously disappears). Yitzchak turns to his father, asking, pleading, desperate for the reassurance of a father who is beyond him, transfigured by trial, faith and destiny. Are you here, he wonders, sensing that gulf grown enormous as the moment of truth draws ever closer. Are you my father, he wonders, only too aware of that the razor-sharp intensity and focus in human form which strides before him?

And Avraham, whose every breath is drawn from within the paradox of “take your son, your only one, whom you love, Yitzchak, and offer him…” against “for it is through Yitzchak that your offspring will be called”, responds by embodying that very paradox:

I am fully here with you, son, walking with you, loving you, bonded to you, continued through you, seared into your soul as you take forward our shared vision and covenant with Hashem, AND,

I am completely absent as I turn toward Hashem in complete fidelity and trust that all of what Hashem has commanded me will be fulfilled, as I have ever done, and without which I would never had merited the promise of you, the one who will go on beyond me and can never know me if he is to know himself.

And they walked on, together, and they came to the place which Hashem had said…

One day, we are taught/know/believe/yearn for constantly, Eliyahu will come, just before that Great Day of Hashem, and he will restore the hearts of fathers to their sons and the hearts of sons to their fathers. On that day, will there be any greater restoration than the hearts of Avraham and Yitzchak to each other? On that day, Avraham, who taught us all presence even when absence temporarily-for-eternity is the order of the day, will take that knife and carefully carve out the dagesh out of the second “nun”, as generation turns to generation on that Day of Hashem and proclaims, unreservedly “Here I am”!

Tense and Swelling Faces

2018-07-22T13:10:00.000+03:00

"Mah Tovu Ohaleicha Ya'akov, Mishkenoteicha Yisrael".
How good are your tents, Ya'akov; your dwellings, Yisrael!

These words, some of the first we utter each morning as we enter the Beit Knesset for Shacharit, are the opening words of the third and climactic blessing that Bil'am utters in place of the curse he was summoned from afar to place upon Israel. Though Bil'am was intent on cursing Yisrael one way or another, and sought some subterfuge through which to slip in a curse, Hashem placed His word in Bil'am's mouth like a bit in the mouth of a donkey, and compelled him to follow His original, unchanged instructions of blessing Israel. See Ramban, who explains that Hashem's consent to Bil'am's journey was predicated upon the latter's understanding that he may well end up blessing Israel in Balak's presence! So Bil'am knew he was going to be compelled to bless, and yet he went anyway, and uttered some of the most lofty praise of Yisael ever heard. Yet he still agreed to accompany Balak's messengers, he went through the motions of attemtping to evoke Divine favor for a curse, he suffered the indignities heaped upon him by Balak - why did he do this?

Let's look more carefully at Bil'am's words. After glimpsing only the edges of the people from his earlier vantage points, Bil'am casts his gaze toward the desert and sees the people dwelling by tribes. He takes in the marvelous precision of their array, each tribe encamped by its ancestral houses, each ancestral house by its families, and so on. So many people, moving from place to place, yet each time reconstituting a perfect web of human nexus points, a distributed network in which Hashem dwells as their focus turns to the Tent of Meeting in the center. So exact is the perfection that none of the entrances or apertures of any tend face any those of any other. A hive buzzing with communal activity yet preserving the privacy and the integrity of the individual. The ultimate in Kosher Feng Shui. The spirit of G-d fills Bil'am (Bechor Shor: against his will - he was hoping to utter at least his own curse, if not a divinely inspired one) and he utters his blessing.

"Mah Tovu" - How precise are the tents, the dwellings. Ibn Ezra says that the unusual verb, tovu, is a past-tense verb. Now in Hebrew, what we call past tense is not really past; rather it's a verb mood indicated completed action, called the Perect Mood. It usually is employed in conveying action in the past, but not always; sometimese it's used to show indicate a perfect state in the present. And that's thte sense in which Bil'am speaks: How completely good, clear, aligned are your lives, oh Jewish people - your private and public lives (for "tents" are interpreted by the Midrash as Batei Midrash; "dwellingplaces" as temples, sanctuaries and houses of worship).

Rabbi Ya'acov Yosef of Polnoye, author of the first book of Chassidus ever to be published - Toldot Ya'acov Yosef - and known in Chassidus as the Toldos, says that Bil'am shows himself here to be a false prophet:

"What is the difference between true and false prophets? True prophets appears generally as those who admonish, they reveal the blemishs and the faults and seek to break the unrefined character traits. False prophets, however, laud the people with their sweet lips, they see no shortcomings, everything is fine and perfect, nothing in need of repair. But it is actually the true prophets who reprove who truly love the people. For it was not because of his great love of Israel that Bil'am sang such songs of praise for Israel. The opposite is the case - he intended to persuade the people that they don't have to do anything, that there is no need to yearn to ascend to higher levels and states of being, they are all complete perfect as they are, blessed with all the good character traits and spiritual achievements. This is the difference between true and false prophets."

He did it! Bil'am managed despite everying to curse Israel. He managed to lure Israel into a state of smug self-satisfaction and puffery. And soon thereafter, we were downing the toxic cocktail of the Big Three - Idolatry, Sexual Violation and Murder. Every prophet but Moshe imparts his style to the language he uses to convey the Diviine message, and Bil'im twists Hashem's words by phrasing his blessing in the Perfect Mood. Moshe, however, toward the end of Devarim, states, "See I have placed before you Goodness and Life (on one hand, and on the other) and Evil and Death - choose! (life...) There's always a choice to ascend higher and by running up the down escalator, reverse its direction for the entire world, or to stay put on one's present level and end up below the basement.

Bil'am may have slipped in his curse-in-sheep's clothing, but we've had the last laugh. We invoke his words as we enter the Beit Knesset, asking Hashem as we come together in prayer, to take our own everyday human language, inadequate to express the truth of His transcendence ("If all the heavens were parchments, and all the trees quills, and all the oceans ink...") and convert them, via our ceaseless yearning, into a crown for His Glory. Then it is that Bil'am's blessing-curse is truly redeemed, as we are afforded a glimpse of how far we have yet to go, and we set forth anew each day on that path.

Laughing at Foxes - the End (of Massechet Makkot)

2017-11-30T00:04:00.000+02:00

The end of Massechet Makkot, the end of larger single Massechet of old, a 14-chapter Sandhedrin which incorporated Makkot. So much focus on punishment, pain, death and excision, despite the Messianic outburst of Perek Chelek, that Chazal in the final Mishnah feel it necessary to express the other side: mere lashings can remove the punishment of excision for eternity; if Hashem rewards those who merely abide by their natural abhorrence of ingesting blood, how much more will Hashem reward those who stay their natural urges; Hashem wanted to give us manifold opportunities to gain spiritual merit, THAT’S why He gave us so many mitzvot, not in order to make punishment and failure unavoidable, G-d forbid.

And yet.. the Sages walk in the heart of Hashem’s land, His covenanted people broken and scattered, the city of eternity in ruins… do they hear their own encouragements, do they steer clear of anguish and despair?

For a moment, it seems not: they see a fox emerge from the wreckage of the Holy of Holies, and bewail their fate, yet Rabbi Akiva laughs. When pressed for an explanation, he explains as follows:

Yeshayahu prophesizes , regarding the redemption to come, “I will call reliable witnesses, the priest Uriah and Zechariah son of Jeberechiah, to witness for Me” (Yeshayahu 8:2). Rabbi Akiva explains: these two prophets don’t belong together, for Uriah, the priest, living during the time of the First Temple, and prophesied destruction, while Zechariah lived in the time of the Second Temple, and prophesied redemption.

“Until I saw Uriah’s prophesy fulfilled, who foretold foxes running through the ruins of Jerusalem,”, said Rabbi Akiva, “I wasn’t certain of Zechariah’s prophecy, who spoke of a time when, once again, old men and women would repose in the streets of Jerusalem. Now that I’ve seen the former, I’m absolutely certain of the latter”.

But there’s a problem here. In order for their testimony to be accepted, two witnesses (the minimum needed to establish legal veracity) need to see the event together. If one is looking from one window and the second from another and they don’t see one another, then even if their accounts of the event are identical, they cannot be accepted. Now, if there is one issuing the warning to the transgressor, who is stationed between the two, such that he sees each and each of them see him, that can make the testimony of the two witnesses acceptable. But the judges will interrogate them closely, so their account had better match, and further, woe unto them should other witnesses come and claim, “you couldn’t have seen that, you were with us elsewhere at the time”. They are rendered scheming witnesses – Eidim Zomemim, the law whose details occupy the first chapter of Massechet Makkot.

So why did Rabbi Akiva “accept” the testimony of Uriah and Zechariah? Uriah looked through the “window” of the First Temple, while Zechariah looked through the “window” of the Second Temple. Furthermore, could their accounts of events been more different? Uriah saw destruction and punishment, while Zechariah saw joy and redemption! And finally, they couldn’t have “been there” as they were separated by hundreds of years.

Ah, but let’s look again at the verse from Yeshayahu: “I will call… to witness for Me”. Hashem is summoning them, Hashem is the One issuing the warning/promise in the middle, that middle of all time which is now, where the past in its always lingering inadequacy meets the future in its constantly burgeoning possibility. Before Hashem, who encompasses and permeates all being, suffering and redemption merge into the Oneness of full Awareness of Being.

Rabbi Akiva, who knew his end would be bitter, who soon thereafter would have his flesh raked with iron combs, and who, as his soul departed, would rejoice at the opportunity to fulfill the Shema with all his being – Rabbi Akiva laughed, for Hashem Himself had established, through the complimentary testimony of His faithful servant, Uriah, the Illuminator, and Zechariah, the Rememberer (whose names, like the dreams of Joseph’s cupbearer and baker, imply each other), that punishment and reward must fall away into the blissful, blinding light of Hashem’s presence, which even now, especially right now, promises to crack open our carefully manicured shells of measured, everyday consciousness into a dawn we yearn for, are terrified of, and carry within us every moment.

Grow with the Flow

2017-09-18T22:42:00.000+03:00

Is a blessing a curse? What happens to people who are showered with goodness? Are we hard-wired to take things for granted and act out of a finally realized state of entitlement?

In this last week’s parashah (Vayelech), Hashem has Moshe tell the people to write down this song (Ha’azinu, this next week’s parashah) to serve as a warning and testimony regarding the anticipating turning away from G-d which will follow upon Moshe’s passing. “For I will bring them to the land which I have sworn to their forebears, flowing with milk and honey, and they will eat and become satiated and grow fat and they will turn to other gods and serve them and scorn Me and abrogate My covenant.”

It is tempting to fit this verse into the time-worn theme, expressed at length in the second paragraph of the Shema, and encapsulated by three words from the upcoming parashah: “Jeshurun grew fat and kicked” (Devarim 32:15). Growing fat, satiated, complacent is inextricably bound up with corruption, indulgence, self-importance.

But if that were the message of the verse above, it would have been divided as at first it seems to be:
What Hashem does: For I will bring them to the land which I have sworn to their forebears, flowing with milk and honey
What Israel does: they will eat and become satiated and grow fat and they will turn to other gods and serve them and scorn Me and abrogate My covenant.

Note that the Hebrew seems to emphasize the rejection contained in the parallel:

ארץ זבת חלב ואכל ושבע ודשן

Three three-letter words encapsulating Hashem’s gift – “flowing with milk and honey” – G-d gives, exudes plenty and sweetness that cannot be contained, is nurturing by nature.

And three three-letter words encapsulating our consumption – “they will eat, and become sated and grow fat” – we take in, engulf, become bloated.

Jeshurun grew fat.

Yet the break in the verse is NOT there, but right before the word(s) “and they turned”. For, the Torah doesn’t use the same term for “grow fat” here as it does in Ha’azinu. There, the word is שמן, the standard word for all things fat. Here, the word is דשן, which, though it is used for “fat”, is also used in contexts of holiness. What remains of the offerings consumed upon the alter is called “deshen”, and in several places, the root is employed in contexts of praise, most notably (to me) in the Song of Shabbat (Tehillim 92:13-15) “A righteous man shall grow like a palm, like a cedar in Lebanon shall he stand tall, planted in Hashem’s house, in the courtyard of our G-d shall they grow, they shall bud and flower in old age, fat (desheinim) and fresh/moist shall they be.” (see also Tehillim 36:9)

For, it cannot be that it is a law of nature that partaking in the blessing that is this world, this life, this consciousness, this personhood – this taking and consuming of life – only produces cursed results. Rather, WE choose whether we merely grow fat by insisting on incorporating (literally) blessings – שמן - or we grow fertile – דשן - by allowing them to pass through and pass on. The attempt to take absolute possession of and to identify entirely with that which is not really ours to begin with – that ITSELF is the turning aside which breaks the verse off from the flow of divine blessing. Rather, let us partake and release, enjoy and thereby enable the Giver to give fully, allowing life to flow throw us, enhance us, and then move on to enrich other realms – let us grow with the flow.

Death De-feeted

2017-09-12T22:51:00.000+03:00

Rav Kook speaks of transcending death in a number of places. Several of his teachings are gathered in Orot Hakodesh (pp. 381-384), vol. 2. One piece in particular, also published in Shmoneh Kevatzim (1:486), is an extended treatment, which focuses on freeing oneself from the fear of death. It's an exhiliarating piece, laying out the course of the transition to a point where the scholarly question, "Did Rav Kook believe that death will be defeated, or was he saying that it won't concern us" is left far behind.

Toward the end of this piece, he discusses how humanity will reach that point. He says the necessary preparation cannot be achieved by an individual, but only by a holy people, chosen long ago for this priestly role, so devoted to the transcendent G-d in the entirety of their beings that they are commanded to leave no trace of death on their lived lives, and to remove its terror and psychic impact entirely, opening the path for the founding of a culture which ratifies and rejoices all of life.

He closes with his usually triumphant lift, so I'll translate: "We are called to this, for this do we battle, and all the fallings/fallings-short which we have fallen will not detach our feet from this supernal goal, uplifted in our souls, to which we will surely come to, through all the steps and all the tangled paths, yet we will surely come to this freedom for the sake of which, behold, we are alive"

There's an allusion here which might be missed, but which is incredibly powerful. What is intimated by the use of the image "not detach our feet"? In Yehoshua, chapters 3 and 4, the people cross the Jordan. How do they get across? Yehoshua splits the Jordan. But not by a "heavenly" miracle, as Moshe split the Red Sea. Rather, by a "human" miracle. As per Hashem's command, Yehoshua has the priests carry the Holy Ark to the river. When their feet touch the river edge, its full, seasonal waters recede up and down the river course. The people cross, stones are taken and placed from and in the river to serve as testament, and when all is done, we read (Yehoshua 4:18): "As soon as the priests who bore the Ark of the LORD’s Covenant came up out of the Jordan, and the feet of the priests detached (from the riverbed) onto the dry ground, the waters of the Jordan resumed their course, flowing over its entire bed as before.".

Crossing the river is a symbol in many cultures of the transition from life to death. The passage is unsafe, you need someone to take you across to the promised land which lies beyond, different, better, eternal. But the raging waters and the terrors they evoke are ultimately illusory, since beneath them is the same land, firm if well-washed, we walk now. Being cares not for what we term life or death, nor does consciousness, emergent from body and soul but ultimately of a different dimension. The awareness, the deep awareness of this, the living of a life infused with this joyous truth, and devoted beyond self, is priestly service in its fullest, constantly in contact with the bedrock below and yet never attributing to it the ultimacy which the yearning for transencence itself manifests. As long as this priestly people keeps its feet on the ground yet bears aloft the Ark of Bonding Presence, no river of death separates life from life. Let all peoples flow forward, for together we are all that true, everflowing river, while we remain standing firm, nullifyiing by our devotion to the truth of oneness that ultimate idolatry, the torrential fear of death. And when at last we step out of the river bed, all will be that well-watered prommised land of being, joy and love.

The Emergence of Hillel

2017-09-09T21:36:00.000+03:00

A thought, may it be a merit for the memory of R. Sholom Brodt, z"l:

A pair of parallel famous stories regarding Hillel the Elder are related in Vayikra Rabba (Parashat Behar), the first of which is much better known than the second. 

“A lovingkind man benefits his life/soul …” (Mishlei 11:17) - this refers to Hillel the Elder, for when he took leave of his students, he would walk along with them. They asked him, “our master, to where are you going?”. “To do a mitzvah”, he responded. “What mitzvah might that be?”, they asked. “To bathe in the bathhouse”, he replied. “Is that a mitzvah?”, they challenged. “If regarding the (idolatrous) statue of the king which they place in theatres and circuses – the one who is appointed to care for them washes them and scrubs them and they pay him a salary and, further, his status is elevated amongst those close to the king, then I, who was created in the image and likeness, as it is written, “for in the image of G-d did He create man”   (Bereshit 9:6) , how much the more so! 

Another interpretation: “A lovingkind man benefits his life/soul …” (Mishlei 11:17) - this refers to Hillel the Elder, for when he took leave of his students, he would walk along with them. They asked him, “our master, to where are you going?”. “To do a mitzvah”, he responded. “What mitzvah might that be?”, they asked. “To do a kindness for a guest at my house”, he replied. “Every day you have a guest at your house?”, they challenged. “And that poor soul inside the body, is it not a mere guest, here today yet tomorrow, no longer here! 

The question I want to ask is: Where is Hillel? Where is he who asked (no translation does it justice), “If I am not for myself, who will be for me, and if I am only for myself, what am I”? Where is the one who cryptically says, “If I am here, everything is here, and if I am not here, who is here?”  

Hillel is rightly famous for his deeply resonant, highly allusive and suggestive gems, but this pair confounds and confuses. Hillel speaks of himself as exterior to both body and soul. But are we not comprised of both, which, according to our teachings (with apologies to Kabalistic teachings made especially well-known by Chassidut), are created by G-d? Now, we would normally assume that a tzaddik such as Hillel would associate more immediately with his soul over his body. Yet the stories are perfectly parallel, and in both, Hillel treats body and soul alike, as equals, as the objects of a mitzvah performed by… who, precisely?

Precisely. It would seem that Hillel is an “emergent phenomenon” (see below), revealed by the interaction and mutual engagement of body and soul. We are not TRULY our souls, nor are we REALLY only our bodies, but… something less. Less, in the sense of a still, small voice that hears itself hearing, and speaks itself speaking, and, by being neither body nor soul, is beyond both. And since we are, as Hillel reminds us, created in the image of Hashem, could it be that it’s precisely in the interaction of opposites, of others with others, where that “emergent property” (for expression’s sake, and may I not be understood to be reductionist, as my intent is exactly the opposite) we call the Presence of the Divine, Shechina, is to be found?

Shlomo once said, “G-d is in the in-between”. He may well have said it many times, but I know he said it once, because I heard him say it, looking at me. So, here’s looking at you, even now, Rav Sholom.

ויקרא רבה (וילנא) פרשת בהר

ג ד"א וכי ימוך הה"ד (שם /משלי/ יא) גומל נפשו איש חסד זה הלל הזקן שבשעה שהיה נפטר מתלמידיו היה מהלך והולך עמם אמרו לו תלמידיו ר' להיכן אתה הולך אמר להם לעשות מצוה אמרו לו וכי מה מצוה זו אמר להן לרחוץ בבית המרחץ אמרו לו וכי זו מצוה היא אמר להם הן מה אם איקונין של מלכים שמעמידים אותו בבתי טרטיאות ובבתי קרקסיאות מי שנתמנה עליהם הוא מורקן ושוטפן והן מעלין לו מזונות ולא עוד אלא שהוא מתגדל עם גדולי מלכות אני שנבראתי בצלם ובדמות דכתיב (בראשית ט) כי בצלם אלהים עשה את האדם עאכ"ו ד"א גומל נפשו איש חסד זה הלל הזקן שבשעה שהיה נפטר מתלמידיו היה מהלך והולך עמם אמרו לו תלמידיו ר' להיכן אתה הולך אמר להם לגמול חסד עם הדין אכסניא בגו ביתא אמרו לו כל יום אית לך אכסניא אמר להם והדין נפשא עלובתה לאו אכסניא הוא בגו גופא יומא דין היא הכא למחר לית היא הכא, ד"א גומל נפשו איש חסד (משלי יא) ועוכר שארו אכזרי א"ר אלכסנדרי זה שמגעת לו שמחה ואינו מדביק את קרוביו עמו משום עניות א"ר נחמן כתיב (דברים טו) כי בגלל הדבר הזה גלגל הוא שחוזר בעולם לפיכך משה מזהיר את ישראל וכי ימוך אחיך

The Standing of Stand-out and Stand-in

2017-09-09T21:34:00.000+03:00

There has been much written about why the particular sets of tribes are stationed on Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Eival for the blessings and curses. None of the approaches suggested have been generally accepted. Here's my take.

I assume that the selection must be fairly straightforward and comprehensible based only on the preceding narrative in the Torah. What we find here is that all the tribes assigned to the blessing are "l'chatchila" sons (exception noted and explained below). That is, they are not sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, who were born only due to attempts to manipulate "fate" on the part of Rachel and Leah. They also are not sons of the second  round of Leah's childbearing, initiated by the mandrakes. Shim'on, Levi, Yehudah, Yosef and Binyamin are all conceived in accordance with Hashem's will (and thus, blessing), without any manipulation. Believing that you can tamper with Hashem's will borders on idolatry (we won't get into the question of prayer here).

But, according to this explanation, Reuven should have been there, too. That would meet the implicit requirement for six and six. Yet we see that Reuven is with the tribes assigned to the curse, and, in his place, Issachar is with the tribes of blessing. Doesn't this demonstrate that my explanation is faulty?

No, and here's why: Reuven is the symbol of problematic manipulation par excellence. He attempts to manipulate his brothers into releasing Yosef (he doesn't tell them that this is what he's planning when he says, "throw him into the pit"), he issues the extravagantly outrageous offer to his father, "you can kill my two son's (Ya'acov's GRANDSONS!) if I don't bring Binaymin back", he finds the magical mandrakes and brings them to his mother, Leah, and, most critically, he lays with his mother's competing maidservant-wife, Bilhah (according to Chazal, he rearranged the beds), to avenge his mother's dishonor. Especially in light of the content of the curses, "cursed is the one who lies with his mother-in-law", there is no way Reuven can be included in the blessing group. Literally, he has lost his standing.

So, instead, a stand-in, Yisschar, the first-born of the second round, and the one whose birth, ironically, was enabled by Reuven's magical mandrakes, takes his place.

All blessings are straight from Hashem, all curses are distortions, rebounds, and ricochets. And yet, the Midrash tells us that Reuven is the master of Teshuvah, thus his descendant,  Hoshea, is the one who so prominently exhorts Yisrael at this time of the year, "Return, O Israel, all the way to Hashem, your G-d, for you have stumbled in your sin".

We've only stumbled, we can get up, we can turn curses into blessings, we can become the whole implied when six tribes unite with six tribes, and the Kohanim in their midst add one, thirteen in all, who is like you, Israel, one people upon the land?

Breath the Air

2017-06-29T21:48:00.003+03:00

Bava Batra 158b

A house falls upon a mother and son, rachmana litzlan, the woman’s heirs claim, “he died first, then she died, so we inherit her property”; the man/boy’s heirs claim, “she died first, then he died, so we inherit her property”. Although in previous similar cases (a man and his son, a husband and wife) Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disagreed as to who gets the property, with Beit Shammai ruling that the groups of heirs split it, and Beit Hillel ruling that the property remains in the presumptive possession of whoever's hands it was in previously – HERE, the anonymous first opinion of the Mishnah claims that Beit Hillel concedes to Beit Shammai’s position. Rabbi Akiva, however, says that, no, also here, Beit Hillel disputed with Beit Shammai and maintained their position. Ben Azzai observes to Rabbi Akiva “we are dismayed over the previous disputes, and you come to foment dispute where there is (a report of) agreement?

The Gemara then takes up Rabbi Akiva’s position and asked, “in the presumptive possession of whom?”. Rabbi Ila says, of the mother; Rabbi Zeira says, of the son. When Rabbi Zeira came up to the Land of Israel, he took up Rabbi Ila’s position. He said, this shows that the air of the Land of Israel makes one wise!”

What does that wisdom consist of? The Rashbam, whose commentary “takes Rashi’s place” in Bava Batra, explains, “since I’ve come to the Land of Israel, I’ve set my mind upon leaving my original position and determining the truth of matters”.

This is SUCH a powerful piece. Notice how many layers of dispute precede Rabbi Zeira. The two contesting parties (who have no proof of their claims), Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel, Tana Kama and Rabbi Akiva, and finally, Rabbi Ila and Rabbi Zeira.

What Rabbi Zeira left behind upon coming to the Land of Israel is the necessity to establish one’s being against a hostile world by asserting and arguing for one’s positions as though one’s life depended upon being right. But, upon ASCENDING to the Land of Israel, he made a concerted effort to stop doing that, to leaving behind the whole notion of establishing one’s position, a fortified, entrenched position, an initial position which, born of one’s own insights and ingenuity, just MUST be right because it is a product of one OWN, and therefore, a veritable homunculus of one very self.

In the Land of Israel, one is part of something much larger, literally, a member of the tribe (or “a tribe”, as the gemara goes on to point out) one need not be right to be, worthy is indelibly present as part of the vital, eternal people upon the land, and therefore, one is freed (or must free oneself, if habituated otherwise) to seek, find and acknowledge truth, G-d seal, wherever it is to be found.

Oh, the great Rabbi Zeira (whose name means “small”)! Oh, the wondrous air of the land!  Where do we find such people, where do we breathe such air today?

The Mechitza on the Mizbeach

2017-03-30T22:22:00.002+03:00

Usually, the division of the aliyot in a parashah, while driven by a number of factors, is decided by where it ends. There is a fairly iron-clad principle to end an Aliyah on a positive note, and not on a negative note. This week’s parashah gives us plenty of opportunities to do so, since many of the sub-sections end on a positive note.

That being the case, one would think that the fifth aliyah would encompass all of the sin-offerings (Chatat), covered in Vaykra, chapter 4, while the sixth aliyah would open with the beginning chapter 5, which deals with the guilt-offerings (Asham). But, instead, the fifth aliyah ends with 4:26, leaving two last Chattat offerings to be read with the Asham offerings. Why?

Here’s an idea: all the animals offered in the fifth aliyah as it stands are males, and all the animals offered in the sixth aliyah are females.

On the fifth and sixth days of creation, animals and humans - male and female - were created. When they sinned so egregiously that a flood was brought to cleanse the earth of the stain of their sins, both (some) humans and animals rode out the atoning, purifying procedure in the ark, separated by gender. As Rashi explains: when they entered the ark, men and women were listed separately, indicating that they refrained from relations; when they left, they left as couples, indicating the resumption of relations.

Sacrificial offerings may seem to us as mere rituals, but to our forebears, they were highly charged moments of drama, filled with life and death, punishment and its expiation both hovering above the heads of the trembling, anticipating people. Sin was palpable, and it was not a time for even the suggestion of something which might arouse the incessant depredations and suave persuasions of the Yetzer HaRa.

Therefore, I suggest, we recreate a bit of this drama by breaking the Torah reading where we do. May this reenactment have the desired effect of bringing us ever closer to Hashem such that we truly need neither Chattat nor Asham but rather the offerings of joy and exultation of Oneness emerging from the altar in the inner chambers of our hearts.

Uprooting a Pernicious Ayin and Restoring a Precious Honor

2017-03-14T06:27:00.001+02:00

During Havdalah each week, we recite a verse taken from the Megillah:

“Layhudim hayta orah v’simchah v’sason vicar”. ליהודים היתה אורה ושמחה וששון ויקר

Many, perhaps most, people mispronounce the last word. While it should be “vee-kar” ויקר-“and honor”, usually people say “v’eekar” ועיקר. It’s a case of substituting a more familiar word for a less familiar one. People know the word עיקר, “root” or “main principle”, and are not familiar with the word יקר, taken here from the Aramaic cognate of the Hebrew כבוד, or “honor”.

“Honor” as a meaning of both כבוד and יקר is derivative of their primary meaning – weight, heaviness, substantiality. Now, in the Megillah, both the word כבוד and the word יקר are used. But whereas the former is used only in connection with money and material wealth, the latter is reserved for honor emanated upon one by the king. Our honor as Jews is derived from the notion that our very existence points toward the King of Kings, and, in fact, in the gemara, all four words of the verse above are interpreted to refer to Mitzvot which express that relationship: אורה - Torah, שמחה - holidays, ששון - circumcision and יקר - tefillin.

We are not “the main principle”, we are not “rooted” in and of ourselves. Any honor we as Jews might be due is derived from being a people that stands for and points toward Hashem in how we lead our individual and, especially, our collective lives. In that sense, we can aspire to be “G-d’s vicar” (pun intended, of course), in the sense of “a nations of priests”.

So let’s uproot that guttural, all-too-substantial (for this context) Ayin and glide into the precious honor of pointing beyond ourselves through our acts: Vee-kar.

Walled and Unwalled Jews

2017-03-14T06:24:00.001+02:00

In chapter 9 of the megillah, the violent encounters between those seeking to wipe out the Jews and the Jews seeking to defend themselves and take the battle to their would-be annihilators is described. It seems that while the Jews throughout the realm achieved victory in a single day, on the 13^th of Adar - the day slated by Haman for their destruction - the Jews of Shushan needed an additional day. This is what Esther asked of King Achashverosh and this is what was granted. So, the relief and celebration that is natural and automatic upon such a sudden turn of events came for the Jews throughout the realm on the 14^th, but for the Jews of Shushan, only on the 15^th. Then follows this verse:

Esther 9:19
“Therefore, the unwalled Jews (see the kri/ketiv distinction there), dwelling in the unwalled cities, make the 14^th day of the month of Adar [a day of] joy and drinking-feasts, holiday, and sending portions to one’s fellow”.

After this, Mordechai sends letters to the Jews throughout the realm enjoining them to [continue to] mark these days. In his letter, he indicates that the Jews are to celebrate on the 14^th and the 15^th (the days of relief from battle for the Jews of the realm and those of Shushan, respectively). There is no distinction based on location in the megillah, the details are learned out in the Gemara.

Why doesn’t the megillah mention the initial celebration of the Jewish of walled Shushan on the 15^th, as it did regarding the celebration of the 14^th, referenced above? One take is that, they didn’t celebrate that first year! Perhaps they were too shell-shocked, needing an extra day to dispense with their would-be destroyers? But wouldn’t that be even a greater motivation for them to release all the pend-up angst and fear? And why didn’t Mordechai make it clear in his letter who should celebrate when?

I believe the key can be found in the verse cited above. What are “unwalled Jews”? Why does the verse need to characterize them, since it goes on to indicate that they are “living in unwalled cities"? Because, there are unwalled (or better “wide-open”) Jews and there are walled Jews. Or deeper: we all have our wide-open aspects and our walled-off aspects. Perhaps our personalities, what we show to the outside world, or even only to ourselves, are only a part, perhaps only the tip of the “I-ceberg”.

If we are really going to unified the revealed and hidden, which is the ultimate message of the megillah, we need to access the walled-off parts of ourselves. It’s (relatively) easy, natural, to rejoice, to celebrate, to be thankful on the outside, or even on the outside of the inside. But what about deep inside, where lie those realms so recondite, so estranged from our normal consciousness that we just don’t go there? What terrifying, powerful, untamable forces lie there?

We need to go there, at least once a year. Because Hashem “went there”, everywhere present in His awesome hiddenness, so as to bring forth the beauty, the justice, the love and the symmetry of the megillah into our lives. This is what is spoken of only in Mordechai’s letter, in the verse (9:22) which echoes the one above, but adds the critical words “and gifts to the desperately poor”. We need to give our inner, inner selves the gift of being there.

Today is Shushan Purim. Drunkenness – the shedding of outer boundaries, is for yesterday (well, for most of us). Today is for giving ourselves, and thereby, the world, the gift of no fear as we penetrate the walls of the Chamber of Secrets to discover that, there too, Hashem is waiting for us.

When an Act of Speech Really Is One

2016-08-17T22:21:00.000+03:00

The term “Act of Speech” is, from the point of view of Halachah, an oxymoron. Speech is neither fully an act nor merely a thought, but something in between, something which, in many ways, mediates between the two. So how to do we parcel out words and sentences, utterances and soliloquies? When is a break in the continuum of speech merely a pause and when does it indicated that an utterance is complete?

The halachic notion of “Toch K’dei Dibbur” – within enough time to say something – is used in many contexts to determine whether a pause separates two utterances or should be ignored. To illustrate: If I say “This animal is a burnt-offering…a peace-offering”. If the ellipsis is a pause less than the time it takes to say, “How are you doing?” (there are fine points we’ll ignore for now), then it may well be that my utterance is meaningful and I’ve made my animal a mixture of the two kinds of offerings (with all the problematics that causes). But if the ellipsis is longer than that, we ignore the latter utterance, the first one is complete, it takes effect and the animal is a burnt offering.

This tool of parsing utterances is used in all areas of halacha, for all purposes – to obligate or exempt, to render pure or impure, to forbid or permit – except in four situations. Here’s what the Gemara says in Nedarim 87a:

“The law is that “Toch K’dei Dibbur” is just like saying something (i.e., we ignore that short pause) except for the cases of the blasphemer, the idol-worshipper, one who betroths a woman and one who divorces a woman”.

What do all four of these cases have in common? I suggest the following:

Speaking, in these cases, does not merely communicate information. Speaking here is language fully realized, it is creative (or destructive) in a manner similar to how language original functioned, in the creation of the world (and destruction of worlds – Midrash Bereshit Rabba 3:9). Speaking binds one to one’s other half (Berachot 61a and various places in midrash), or severs that unity with all sorts of cosmic implications (see the end of Gemara Gittin). On a spiritual level, the blasphemer “divorces” him/herself from Hashem (and even implies such a division within Hashem – see Mishnah Sanhedrin 7:5) and the idol-worshipper attempts to bond to the object of his/her devotional utterance (one violates the prohibition of idolatry merely through speech – Mishnah Sanhedrin 7:6).

In all four cases where speech reassumes its original power as creative or destructive act, pauses have no impact. One cannot condition, modify, or retract a statement which is not suspended in that “void” where most speech hovers, between thought and action – these are not mere words, they are Acts of Speech.

Would that we treated the constant patter that issues forth from our mouths as though every utterance had the power bind us to the divine spark in our interlocutor or sever the connection between us forever. We would invest much more attention to our speech, and, of necessity, our thoughts and actions – and we would bind ourselves to the Divine Presence everywhere waiting to be revealed.

Inspired by the Daf Yomi shiur of Rav Shalom Rosner on Bava Kama 73 (5776) – all mistaken associations, sources or expressions are mine and mine alone.

The One (People) Who Must Not Be Named

2016-07-17T01:59:00.000+03:00

Just as Balak brings Bil’am to consider his enemy from various vantage point, likewise does Parashat Balak allow us to view ourselves from the vantage point of others. The main story in Balak is of a single piece, and Am Yisrael appear only as foils for the central story – the interaction of Bil’am with Hashem. What is curious is that not only does Am Yisrael not appear as a real character in the story, we don’t even get a mention. Every time Balak or Bil’am refer to Am Yisrael in the non-visionary passages, they employ indirection: “this people”, “my enemies”, but never Yisrael. It almost feels that they are avoiding speaking the name, one which Bil’am, at least, employs so beautifully in his prophetic speeches.

Now, recalling that this story of the interaction of other nations with Am Yisrael is being told in the Torah, I think the message is this: Yisrael is our name in the context of our covenantal interactions with Hashem, just as Hashem’s real name is used only in the context of His covenantal interaction with Am Yiisrael. It’s not that it wasn’t known to the outside – archeology has shown otherwise. It’s just that OUR sense of the function of the name given us by Hashem when we struggled with the angel is that it is one which bespeaks intimacy with Hashem. Others may employ the name in a technical sense, but it falls flat. When Hashem uses it, we come alive. Reward or punishment, it makes no difference, for the inner essence of the name Yisrael is that intimacy which can only come from a struggle born of closeness. After all, as Hashem says (Amos 3:2): “Only you do I know thoroughly and intimately, from all the families of the earth”.

Et tu, Rabbi Akiva? (Bava Kama 41b)

2016-07-15T17:53:00.000+03:00

In the Daf Yomi (41b) we read the following: Shimon HaAmasoni (some say Nehemiyah HaAmasoni) would (expansively) interpret all the occurrences of the word 'et' (direct object indicator; also means "with") in the Torah. When he came to the verse, "Be in awe 'et' G-d", he withdrew (from his interpretive activity regarding the word 'et'). His students said to him, "Master, what will become of all the other instances of 'et' which you interpreted"? He replied, just as I received reward for the act of (expansively) interpreting, so I shall receive reward for withdrawing from interpreting.... (and things stayed that way) until Rabbi Akiva came and taught, "Be in awe 'et' G-d" comes to include the Sages (as objects of awe).

From the Daf Yomi shiur of Rav Shalom Rosner (errors and omissions are mine): If Rabbi Akiva could figure out how to interpret this 'et', (and was not overly bothered by associating something with Hashem), then why was Nehemiyah HaAmasoni, master interpreter of 'et', not able to come up with this acceptable interpretation? The answer: (quoting in the name of Rav Gifter Zt"l of the Telz Yeshiva in Cleveland): Rabbi Akiva had something that Nehemiyah HaAmasoni did not have - he had Nehemiyah HaAmasoni! Someone so devoted to truth that he was willing to throw away his life's work for its sake.

This beautiful understanding inspired me to look for something deeper, and here's what strikes me: Derishah is expansive interpretation, the very purpose of human life as understood from a Torah perspective, because everywhere we come up with new interpretations (which pass muster with our peers), we are bringing about the manifestation of divine will, wisdom and, therefore, presence, in a previously untouched part of the universe. But expansiveness, conquest - that is our nature as finite creatures whose urge is to break out of our bonds of finitude and limited capability. We do that in the material world, to both great profit and great destruction, and we certainly can and do do that in the abstract and spiritual worlds, to the same results.

The Ari teaches us: When Hashem wanted to create the world, Hashem had to first withdraw, to "make space" (literally, and figuratively, and probably in more ways as well). To contract in order to allow for the possibility of the other is divine. Nehemiyah HaAmasoni withdrew, for he didn't dream of impinging on Hashem's glory by associating another with Hashem's awe. Yet into precisely that 'et' space which he left, Rabbi Akiva entered, understood what had been done by flesh and blood, so counter to our natures, and honored his teacher and his Maker by filling even that newly created, as-yet-unexplored "vacuum" with expansive Torah wisdom and Divine presence.

Let's Split

2016-04-29T01:15:00.000+03:00

Why does the Torah tell us about the Splitting of the Red Sea, but only hints about the Sealing of the Mountain Pass?

"Huh", you ask, "what's the Sealing of the Mountain Pass?"  See Rashi on B'midbar 21:15. There he relates what actually transpired as Am Yisrael north on the "Jordanian" side of the Jordan valley, near the Dead Sea:  There was a narrow cleft in the Mountains of Edom, one of many running east to west along the extent of the valley. The many caves and crevices make excellent hiding places, and the Amorites hid there, intending to fall upon the unsuspecting Israelites as they passed through. But as they were hiding there, and before Am Yisrael arrived, Hashem made the two sides come together, such that a protruding rock on one side fit perfectly into a recess on the other, crushing the enemy to death in their thousand hiding places, and saving Am Israel from certain destruction. The only way we knew what happened was afterwards, when we saw the stream red with blood at the foot of the restored cleft.

Both this and this are miraculous intercessions on the part of Hashem, changing nature in a seemingly impossible way. Both saved the Jewish people and enabled them to pass on. So why tell of one and not the other?

On a simple level, one could say that lots of miracles happened during the transit, the Torah doesn't relate them all, and the splitting of the Red Sea just after the emergence of Am Yisrael from Egypt, right when everyone, upon seeing the pursuing Egyptians, is ready to abandon everything which has been achieved - and who could blame them? - is much more dramatic, and obviously had a lasting impact, as evidence by the Song of the Sea (but see there in B'midbar - there was another song that reference that later event).

But I think we can say more: Closing the unclosable and opening the unopenable are both equally astonishing, but only one serves as an example and metaphor for our journey in life. As Jews, we are bidden to repeatedly pull open our ever-encrusting natures, in order to move on, in order to allow a new flow of divine life-creating stuff into the world. What we've achieved remains, but becomes a substrate for the next outflow of burning, glowing lava, which will add its energy and substance, until it cools and congeals and nature reasserts its dominance.

Opening, passage and long-overdue punishment (Egypt) inspires faith and models a way of being, and thus its account is trumpeted publicly; closure, blockage and preemptive punishment (Edomites), though indispensable the larger scheme of things, need not be modeled for imitation for us finite creatures who are all too given to acting in this mode, as we gain our being, identity and justification from separation and constriction. Hashem, in His wisdom, performed "behind the scenes" and left it for us to re-discover and apply ever so judiciously.

May we, tonight, see the Great Hand of Hashem set against Egypt, and awestruck, may we trust in the miracle that it is possible to serve the Infinite One of Israel!  Chag Sameach.

Whose Knees?

2015-12-26T22:22:00.001+02:00

In another two days, I am scheduled to see my surgeon, who, if all is well with my knee, will allow me to remove the brace which has kept it straight as a ruler for six weeks and begin relearning how to bend.

It is therefore more than a bit auspicious that the parashah which we read today, Vayechi, contains two mentions of “knees” (of the four in all the Torah). The latter mention, “Also the sons of Machir, son of Menashe, were born on Yosef’s knees”, is clearly not be taken literally. Rather, as Rashi writes, it means Yosef raised them, or, perhaps, as this grandpa has experienced, they grew up knocking around his knees, and thus got to know their great-grandpa.

Not so the former mention. There, in the midst of the complex and confusing dance which is Yaakov’s blessing to his two grandsons, Menashe and Ephraim, it states, “And he (Yosef) removed them (the grandsons) from between his (Yaakov’s) knees and he prostrated himself, face to ground”

Ibn Ezra writes that this verse belongs later, in reference to the end of the blessing process, as a parting withdrawal and gesture of obeisance. Radak differs, asserting that the verse is referring to a rearrangement of the initial approach of the grandsons to enable the proper formalities of the blessing. Either way, the verse highlight the problematic logistics of the approach, right, left, forward, backward, in anticipation of the blessing.

And how was it that the boys were between their dying grandfather’s knees? Shadal tells us – when earlier in the parashah, Yaakov hears that Yosef is coming, he rallies his strength and “sits on the bed”. Shadal envisions Yaakov swinging his legs over the bed as he rises into sitting position. Thus, his knees, those child-raising knees, are ready to receive the two boys. And, in fact, when, much later, Yaakov has concluded all his blessing to his twelve sons, Shadal reminds us, Yaakov “gathers his legs to his bed and expires”.

And yet, perhaps a figurative interpretation is alluded to as well. Knee and blessing share the same consonantal root in Hebrew. Yaakov tells Yosef he is effectively adopting his grandsons as sons, in order that they will have the same status, vis a vis inheritance and tribal affiliation, as his own sons. In order for this to be effective, Yosef must withdraw his claim to his own sons. Yaakov tells Yosef as much, when he says, “Take them to me, please, and I will bless them”. Note: not “bring”, but rather “take”. The work “take” is the standard word for formal, legal acquisition. Thus, when it says, “and he brought them forth from with (lit.) his knees”, perhaps it’s referring to Yosef, removing them from his natural parental claim (compare Chanah and Shmuel) represented by the knees, removing them from his blessings (“birkav” understood creatively as “his blessings”), and then, prostrating himself in submission to his own father.

The proud, erect ruler of Egypt, at the height of his powers, on his knees before his wizened, nearly blind and close to death father, relinquishing his own sons and the power to bless them… only to get it all back in a double portion of bounty and blessing. Has there ever been a more profound bend of the knee from son (Yosef) to father? Has there ever been a more enveloping, though seemingly indirect, blessing from father (Yosef) to son(s)?

The angels cannot bend their knees and they do not bless. They are forever upstanding, forever enlightened – not so us humans. I’ve had a partial taste of ramrod straight-leggedness these past six weeks, and I yearn once more to bend the knee, perhaps to fall, but then, with effort, belief and perseverance, to raise myself toward my Maker on that universal joint that blesses us with, and teaches us through, its flexibility.

I Swear I'll Shut My Mouth

2015-03-25T21:20:00.001+02:00

The various sacrifices presented in Parashat Vayikra are well-organized, making it easy not only to remember them, but also to reflect upon their deeper meaning. The following table makes this structure immediately apparent:

Chapter	Type of Sacrifices Presented
1	Olot – Burnt Offerings
2	Menachot – Grain Offerings
3	Shelamim – Peace Offerings
4	Chata’ot – Sin Offerings
5	Ashamim – Guilt Offerings

Of course, things are not entirely this simple. Grain offerings include both those which are effectively identical to Burnt Offerings, as well as those which are similar to Peace Offerings and Sin Offerings. And some of the Guilt Offerings may well be considered forms of Sin Offerings. The differences between the various offerings draw our attention and produced deep insights into the meanings of the offerings.

I was particularly intrigued this year by the first passage in Chapter 5. There, it speaks of four circumstances which occasion the bringing of a Guilt Offering which is called by the Sages a “Korban Oleh v’Yored”, a sliding-scale offering. This offerings, according to some not a true Guilt Offering but actually more akin to a Sin Offering, is practically unique among obligatory offerings in that what is brought depends on the means of the bringer – whether he is wealthy, poor, or “dirt-poor”, to borrow the terminology of the Sages. It seems as though the Torah is “going out of its way” to make sure no one can claim they simply do not have the means to bring this offering, should they run afoul of the circumstances. There is just one other offering in Jewish tradition which shares this characteristic to an extent – the Guilt Offering brought by the leper after he has been cured from an impurity so severe it cast him out of his town entirely, as part of a set of offerings which mark his return to purity and the community. It would seem that the impurity and ostracism imparted by these violations - the Sages speak of leprosy as coming in the wake of severe violations of the prohibition of evil speech - are so life-altering that a way back must be provided for members of every socioeconomic grouping.

But what is the nature of this sacrifice and what are the circumstances in which it is brought? Here, we should let the Torah speak:

1. And if any one sin, in that he hear the voice of adjuration, he being a witness, whether he has seen or known, if he does not speak up, then he shall bear his iniquity;

2. or if any one touch any unclean thing, whether it be the carcass of an unclean beast, or the carcass of unclean cattle, or the carcass of unclean swarming things, and be guilty, it being hidden from him that he is unclean;

3. or if he touch the uncleanness of man, whatsoever his uncleanness be wherewith he is unclean, and it be hid from him; and, when he know of it, be guilty;

4. or if any one swear clearly with his lips for harm, or for benefit, whatsoever it be that a man shall utter clearly with an oath, and it be hid from him; and, when he knows of it, be guilty in one of these things;

and it shall be, when he shall be guilty in one of these things, that he shall confess that wherein he hath sinned; and he shall bring his forfeit unto the LORD for his sin which he hath sinned, a female from the flock, a lamb or a goat, for a sin-offering; and the priest shall make atonement for him as concerning his sin.

What do these cases have in common that they are all included together? Note that the first and last concern what issues (or should issue) forth from a person’s faculty of speech, whereas the middle two deal with accidental violation due to unwitting impurity.

The hallmark of the human is language, it’s what sets apart humans from animals. Despite the great strides made in research regarding use of something akin to language by animals, the gulf is so huge that the perhaps quantitative difference are actually quantitative. Humans need to speak to be human, and those deprived of the capacity for speech and communication, unless they can develop a replacement language, are condemned to a life that in some senses falls short of what it means to be human.

But “החיות בצוא ושוב”, living vitality ebbs and flows, and speech, especially as it issues forth from one and is directed to another, can be as perfect as the hammer blow which drives the nail and completes the vessel, or as cruel and destructive as the hammer blow which crushes the skull of a detested other. There are times when we must speak, and times when we must refrain from speech.

When a person can testify to something which can resolve a contested matter, whether civil or criminal, yet refuses to do so, that person has failed to use his human gift and definition to bring truth and justice into the world. Perhaps he was given the ability to speak precisely for that one moment of potential clarification, yet he remained mute and dumb like an animal. The productive flow of words, generative of the human in him, has been stopped up, he is impure, he must atone.

When a person need not say anything, when he should not join the mindless bantering of people’s chit-chat which serves to pass the time and draw one’s attention away from awareness of standing ever before G-d, that joyous yet unbearable intensity… and yet he does, and, deigning to impress others with his conviction and knowledge, he ups the ante and swears an oath that something is or isn’t the case, using G-d’s name for his own mundane and petty designs. That person has violate the sacred trust of speech, invoking the Holy Name by which G-d created all, which is being itself, he has run on at the mouth, his creative life-essence has overflowed by a surfeit of misplaced zeal, he is impure, he must atone.

We can sum up the Torah's presentation of this four situations as follows:

Verbal Impurity	Death of Speech	Animal Like
Physical Impurity	Death of Body	Animals
Physical Impurity	Overflow of Life-Imparting Liquids	Humans
Verbal Impurity	Overflow of Life-Creating Names	Human Like

Someone whose words have had great repercussions in our world is reported to have said, “It is not that which enters the mouth which renders one impure, but that which emerges from the mouth”. Was he or his listeners aware that the source for the correct latter part of this claim is to be found right here in Parashat Vayikra, with much greater depth and nuance?

What Do You Give to the G-d Who Has Everything?

2009-02-27T15:09:00.000+02:00

Here we go! Five weeks in a balloon of intensive involvement with the construction of the Mishkan, starting now with Parashat Terumah. A balloon, it seems, since we’ve just been at Sinai and receive an entire corpus of civil and criminal law with which to found a society in Eretz Yisrael, and we’re told we’ll be accompanied by Hashem’s angel on the way, so you’d think the next stage would be to set off.

Not so fast! The Mishkan and all it entails and implies for the life of the people of Israel will be our subject clear through until the third parashah in B’midbar (!), when we finally do get going. This Mishkan, the most elaborate construction project undertaken by humanity to date as recorded by the Torah (the Tower of Babel was aborted, and the Egyptian store-houses merely required a huge supply of adobe bricks), allows us to fulfill our promise as beings created in the image of Hashem. Hashem creates a world, and we, imitating Him, create a symbolic world.

But for now, we’ll leave aside the powerful spiritual associations of the Mishkan and turn the focus on beginning of the parashah: the gathering of raw materials.

Hashem says to Moshe: Speak to the children of Israel, that they take for Me an uplifted-donation; from each generous-hearted man you (pl.) shall take My uplifted donation.

That’s how the parashah begins, followed with a list of thirteen types of raw materials to be collected. At the end of the list, the dispensation of these materials is indicated:

And they shall make for Me a sanctuary and I will dwell within them. In accordance with everything which I am showing you – the form of the IndwellingHouse and the form of its furnishings/utensils, and thus you shall do.

One might think that regarding something so central, so indispensable for the life of Am Yisrael, everyone, bar none, would be obligated to participate in its construction. And, at first, that’s how it seems: Speak to the children of Israel, that they take… No one is excluded. And yet, right afterward, we read: From each generous-hearted man whose heart volunteers him. Evidently, we were wrong; it’s only those moved by spirit who are tapped to give. No external compulsion is to be used, not even a Divine command.

In fact, the Talmud indicates there are actually three separate collections, reflecting the three times the word terumah appears in the opening verses – and the initial collection of the raw materials is the voluntary one.

But doesn’t that mean that some people will be left out, and will not have a part in the Mishkah? And what about us, who live at such a temporal remove from the Mishkan – what part can we hope to play in a construction which brings out the image-of-G-d within us?

Let’s look more closely at the term “generous-hearted”. The Hebrew is asher yidvenu libo. “whose heart volunteers him”. The heart is the core of the person. Whether we take it literally, to mean “heart”, or we understand it figuratively, to mean “mind”, or “spirit”, as it often does, there is no doubt that the heart is, well, the heart. It is the source of a person’s being, his will, his sense of self. So what the heart wills and wants IS the substance of one’s life. The heart can hardly want except for what it is – and so people always want for themselves. How can we want otherwise? It’s not entirely cynical to say that altruism is ultimately motivated by a self-ish concern for our image, more real to us in some ways than our very bodies. So how can we truly give anything to anyone, without some existential string attached?

On the other hand, what do we HAVE that we can give? If we are serious when we say that “The world and its fullness belongs to Hashem”, then, with David, we must say, “Give Him what is His, for you and what is yours is His”. So, what is it precisely that we own that we CAN give to Hashem?

When we give something truly, we’re really giving it back to where it ultimately belongs. Everything we have, everything we are, is on loan. When we acknowledge that everything is Hashem’s, and not ours, then that acknowledgement is a giving over of our very selves to Hashem. We thereby emulate Hashem, Who wills His overflowing essence to spill out into the beauty of creation. We cannot give anything of our own, except this "spilling over" in the acknowledgement of Hashem – and even THAT ability – that act of seeming free-will – is a gift of G-.d.

So we build the Mishkan NOT so much with gold and silver and copper, etc., but with and from our freewilling self-giving – the deepest, rawest material of the universe.

And that is why it says, at the end of the passage quoted above, “And thus shall you do”. Those dangling words, seemingly out of place, are explained by Rashi to mean “For future generations”. Rashi truncates the Talmud’s interpretations of those few words – there understood to include the making of the implements for the Temple in the time of Shlomo – to allow the following understanding:

When we give ourselves fully to one of Hashem’s mitzvot, when we pour into it our everythingness, WE become the raw materials, beyond the constraints of time and space, from which the Mishkan, that is, Am Yisrael, is ever being constructed.

Separate Dishes!?

2009-02-20T14:18:00.000+02:00

How do you get from “Don’t seethe a kid in it’s mother’s milk” to two sets of dishes? Actually, three, if you include pareve? Oh, make that six, for Pesach? Plus add in the the treif set from the olden days, for the non-Jewish servant, and we’ve got our magic number – seven sets of dishes!!

Behind the multiplication of the plates is a serious question, however. This week’s parashah, Mishpatim, is much more than a jumbled collection of laws regulating capitol and civil offenses. Not only is it not jumbled at all (hint: compare the progression of themes in the various sets of laws in Mishpatim with those of the storyline in parashat Shemot!), it contains some of the most powerful “one-liners” in Jewish tradition. “Na’aseh v’nishmah”, for example, is uttered by the people in THIS parashah (and not in Yitro, as some people mistaken think). The definitive reference to the unity of the written and oral Torah also appears herein. But probably the verse which is most closely associated with daily Jewish life is the verse forbidding mixing milk and meat.

But how does that verse prohibit basar bechalav? After all, isn’t it just some poetic flourish brought as a coda to the Book of the Covenant – the term used by the Torah itself (as understood by the Ramban) to refer to the legal codex presented in Parashat Mishpatim? It can’t actually mean two sets of dishes, can it?

Ah, but the verse is repeated two more times in the Torah. Once, in Parashat Ki Tisa, as the concluding phrase of yet another “covenantal” passage, in which Hashem re-offers the covenant, functionally rejected by the people as they revel before the Golden Calf. And a second time in Devarim, where the verse as a coda to the repetition of the laws of animals prohibited and permitted for eating. Clearly, a verse so frequently and prominently intoned must have some overarching significance.

And indeed, the Sages in the Talmud interpret the three-fold repetition of “don’t seethe…” to be teaching three separate prohibitions:

Don’t consume a meat-and-milk mixture.
Don’t cook a meat-and-milk mixture, even if you won’t eat it.
Don’t derive benefit from a meat-and-milk mixture (such as reselling cheeseburgers for fun and profit).

The dishes are another story – absorption and re-emission of flavors by cooking vessels is considered to be substantial and not incidental.

But our question remains – given that the repetition of the verse means something – whence do the Sages get the notion that it is precisely these three things being prohibited by the Torah, and, perhaps more importantly, how does such a practice make us into more refined servants of Hashem?

Let’s take a step back. After giving over to Moshe an entire ethical-legal corpus which forms the core of legal traditions and societal structures the world over to this day, Hashem turns to task at hand. For, that ethical-legal corpus is written from a standpoint which presumes a society settled in its land. And that has yet to be accomplished. The land still needs to be conquered, the morally bankrupt people still lingering there is yet to be disposed, and, perhaps of central importance, their idolatrous, violent and corrupt religious civilization has yet to be eradicated, to be replaced by a people constantly yearning to ascend to Oneness.

Imagine all the people, living for the One, leaving aside their worldly occupations to join as one in the place Hashem will choose to cause His Name to dwell there, three times a year: On Pesach, the feast of springing anew into life; on Shavu’ot, the first-harvest feast of the firstfruits/firstborn – first to arrive at adulthood, and at Sukkot, the feast of the ingathering of all our works – animal and vegetable – from the field, an eight-day ending-of-a-cycle festival joyously awash with meat and drink (for there is no real joy save sacrificial meat and wine, say our Sages), all that physicality transmuted through boundless joy into Divine service.

Now read this:

And everything which I said to you guard carefully; do not mention the names of other gods – let them not be heard upon your mouth.

Three festivals shall you celebrate for Me each year.

·Keep the festival of matzot – seven days shall you eat matzot as I have commanded you, on the occasion of the spring month, for in it you emerged from Egypt; let there not be seen hametz in your houses.
·And the harvest festival, the first fruits of your works which you shall sew in your fields;
·And the ingathering festival at the going-out of the year, when you gather your works from the field.

Three times each year all your males shall be seen/see the Face of the Master, Hashem.

Do not slaughter the blood of my sacrifice upon (i.e., while) chametz (is yet to be seen) and do not allow the fat of My festival offering to linger until morning;
The first of the firstfruits of your land bring to the House of Hashem;
Do not seethe a kid in its mothers milk.

Shemot 23:13-19

The parallels are clear: We all gather in Yerushalayim at three points in the agricultural year, laden with symbolism. We are commanded to be careful regarding three specific commandments, one for each holiday:

On Pesach, we must be precise regarding the Pesach sacrifice – we must neither sacrifice it too early, when chametz is still to be found, nor may we leave it/its fat parts unconsumed past the following dawn.

On Shavu’ot, we must stand before Hashem and, surrendering the first products of backbreaking labor in the field, we stand with the Kohen in the Temple courtyard, waving our offering and proclaiming we have arrived in the fullest sense (See Parashat Ki Tavo).

On Sukkot, … hmm, what is this mother-and-kid non-reunion? Ramban writes (davka on the repeated verse in Parashat Ki Tisa) that when the first-born animals were brought as sacrifices to the Temple, their mothers came along for purposes of nursing the young animals, right up until the time of the sacrifice. But Ramban doesn’t specify that this is happening on Sukkot. In fact, he might be referring to the holiday of firsts – Shavu'ot.

I’d like to suggest a slight twist on the Ramban’s take. The first of Elul is one of four Jewish new years, the new year for tithing of the animals born that year. One of each ten new-born sheep, goats and cattle would be designated as the tenth, the ma’aser, releasing all nine others to the realm of the secular. The ma’aser animals would be offered as sacrifices at the Temple and their flesh would be consumed by their owners in purity, anywhere throughout the city. When would this most naturally be done? On the next trip to Yerushalayim, of course, since zerizim mak’dimim lamitzvtot – the zealous jump at the chance for mitzvot. And this would be…Sukkot.

Sukkot, the blow-out holiday-to-end-all-holidays, as time dies and new time is born, eight days more meat, more drink, more dancing, more music, more spectacle and more holy indulgence than we can really imagine. Just the time to fall over the edge into the REAL spiritual seductions of ultimate unboundedness.

Rambam understands the prohibition of milk and meat as an anti-idolatrous practice – THEY horrifically cooked kids in mothers’ milk, you must not do this. They allows life to bleed into death, to conjure a self-contained and self-perpetuating cycle where life and death are yin-yanged into one another, a boundless self-invoking myth of existence leaving no room for the truly transcendant. You shall not do this in your holiness.

This should imply that the kohanim should not behind like idolatrous priests. They should not consume the holy sacrificial flesh in its delicious, saturated-with-meaning self-sauce at the propitious time of connection. But what about regular Jews.

All three of the holiday practices are really on the threshold of the “kohanic”. Non-kohanim are allowed to slaughter a sacrifice, but not to collect the blood nor dash it upon the altar in atonement, and on Pesach, with so much work for the kohanim to do, that’s precisely what they did. On Shavu’ot, the Jew bringing his basket of first-fruit entered into the Temple as deeply as he was allowed and, waved, with Kohen’s hands upon his, his offering before Hashem. And on Sukkot, the Jews ate holy meat in amounts fit for only for a Kohen, with the lactating mothers bleating outside in the courtyard. It’s sooo good, and, with the Rambam, it only has its anti-pagan symbolism at this time, in this setting, so the rest of the year, back home in the kitchen…

“You shall be for Me a nation of priests, a holy people”. The “extension” of the prohibition of mixing milk and meat, with its undeniable ethical and spiritual implication, in inherent already in the first appearance of the verse. When it is brought again a third time in Devarim, that “extension” is complete – every Jew is in a certain sense a kohen, aware of the incredibly powerful spiritual reverberations of every act, the symbolism that is more that symbolism, echoing its implications throughout the universe.

It is stated in the Talmud, “when there is no altar operative, a man’s [comportment at his ] dining table atones for him. Separating meat and milk can, should and needs to be a way of separating from a life lived in a realm of linear, cause-and-effect superficiality to re-engage that same life as one constantly on the dizzying edge of the holy.

Now about that seventh set of dishes…

Brain-Link Fence

2009-02-13T12:43:00.000+02:00

Is Mt. Sinai under construction in this week’s parashah? One could be forgiven for thinking so, since Hashem’s intructions to Moshe regarding preparation for His revelation to Am Yisrael include the erection of a fence around the mountain!

You say you don’t remember any fence? Take a look at the verses leading up to the the Ten Commandments: “Hashem said to Moshe, ‘Go down, (give testimony and thereby) warn the people, lest they destructively break through to Hashem to see, and many fall (i.e., die) from amongst them. Even the priests, who draw close to Hashem, must sanctify themselves, lest Hashem break out amongst them.” Moshe said to Hashem, the people are not ABLE to ascend the mountain, for You warned us saying, ‘Set up a boundary around the mountain and sanctify it.”

The people aren’t able to ascend, there’s a boundary there, set up precisely to avoid rash, impulsive spiritual overload. Clearly, this boundary can’t be made merely of stern warnings taken to heart, since Hashem knows that whatever they see at the moment of revelation is likely to overwhelm their caution and good sense. Nevertheless, He insists on an extra level of protection, while Moshe claims that the extra level is unnecessary, since the boundary constructed stands firm.

Of what was this boundary constructed? Let’s go back to the initial passage a few verses earlier, where Hashem gives instruction as to the preparations to be made in advance of Matan Torah:

Hashem said to Moshe: Go to the people and sanctify them today and tomorrow, and let them wash their clothing. Be ready for the third day, for on the third day, Hashem will descend upon Mt. Sinai before the people’s eyes. Bound the people around, telling them, ‘Guard yourselves from ascending the mountain, or even touching its edge. Whoever touches the mountain will surely die”.

At first glance, it would seem we’re not closer to finding the raw material from which the fence was constructed. In fact, it looks like the initial supposition, that the best de-fence is a good of-fence, is born out – the boundary is nothing more than the fear of divine punishment for those who, literally, trans-gress.

R. Meir Simcha HaKohen of Dvinsk, in his MeSHeKh Hochmah, interprets the words, Bound the people around differently. The Hebrew reads Hagbel et ha’am saviv, with the word for people serving as a direct object to the causative verb, make a boundary. Thus, Hashem is telling Moshe, “Use the people as raw material for the fence”. Here are his words:

The Divine Presence and the attendant phenomenon of prophecy extended up to the place where Yisrael stood facing the mountain, as it is stated (Devarim): Face to face did Hashem speak with you at the mountain. Just like with the Beit Hamikdash, it was permitted to touch the walls of the courtyards but forbidden to come into their space, since the walls served as partitions between the Sanctuary of Hashem and outside of it, likewise here, Yisrael served as the partitions between the revelation of the Glory of Hashem and that which is otherwise. Thus, the mountain was forbidden to be touched, since the holiness did not end at the mountain. Therefore, it states that the Glory had a boundary, and what was that boundary? The people!

Nothing can exist in our realm w/o being manifest via a vessel; everything of the world is a vessel, and the Kodesh, ultimately not of this world, becomes manifest in a place/time/soul vessel called Am Yisrael at Mt. Sinai. The containment vessel which is Am Yisrael doesn’t merely enable the manifestation of the holy, but it also defines the secular (means literally: temporal) realm – a realm cleansed of the overwhelming, radioactively-dangerous wholly holy, a realm which IS space for that which is other than holy. Ultimately, the secular is created to be MADE holy, but the tension between, on one hand, keeping the sacred at bay, to allow for the human, and, on the other hand, transforming our OWN material to become more G-dlike, more holy, less “vessalic” and more penetratingly liquid with holiness – this tension is the exasperating blessing of Am Yisrael from Hashem, for the world. No surprise people might wish to run away from the mountain, as the midrash on Parashat Beha’alotecha teaches us. No surprise people might be carried away by the smidgen of eventual ecstasy they were allow to taste at Sinai and want to run up the mountain to attain the intimacy they felt they couldn’t bear to be without.

Ulysses was lashed to the mast by his crew to heart the Siren’s song. Hashem has lashed us to the mast of His world with the rope of our own will bending to do His in this as-yet-unredeemed realm, with the inseverable cord of his Torah – a Mobius strip that, followed to the end, will turn out to have been, all along, that holiness which we sought to hold back, now embracing us for eternity.