From the very beginning humans were expected to expend effort to attain their goals. When G-d created Adam and Eve and placed them in the Garden of Eden, He commanded them to “Work it and to guard it” (Genesis 2; 15). Even though everything was provided for them they were expected to earn their keep.
In our Torah reading it is surprising to find that Yitzchak seems to make no effort to find himself a wife, but relies on his father to appoint someone as matchmaker for him. Furthermore, when Eliezer, Avraham’s servant, arrives in Padan Aram he also makes no effort to find the suitable match, but tells G-d to show him the object of his quest. Comparing his actions with those of Ya’akov, when he arrives in Padan Aram, highlight the failure of Eliezer to make an effort to find Yitzchak’s prospective bride. Ya’akov arrives (ibid. 29), and ascertains that he has reached his destination, then begins asking questions about Lavan and his family, to try and find who his bride should be. When he sees Rachel he realises that she is to be his partner without having to make tests for her. Eliezer on the other hand simply tethers his camels, and tells G-d to do the rest.
Though we are supposed to have faith and trust in G-d, total reliance on Him is an abdication of responsibility, and a failure to take up his role as a partner in the activity going on around us. In fact the Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 60) criticises Eliezer for his request, which is described as improper.
Eliezer is described by the Torah as Damesek (Genesis 15; 2), which the Talmud (Yoma 28b) understands as a contraction of the phrase Doleh U’Mashkeh, ‘drawing water and giving to drink’. This describes his relationship with Avraham, that Eliezer is able to take the Torah which Avraham teaches, and disseminate it to the masses. However, the one thing that Eliezer is unable to do is initiate creative thought, or transmit his own teachings. He seems to be totally incapable of acting on his own.
Halachically we say that a non-Jewish slave does not own anything, anything he has belongs to his master. Eliezer seems to have taken that to the extreme that even his thoughts are not his own. In fact the Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 59; 8) tells us that he even looked like Avraham - he had completely lost any independent identity.
This is why Avraham sent Eliezer to find a wife for Yitzchak. He was faced with a dilemma. Yitzchak was not permitted to leave the Land of Israel, for only a wife who would be prepared to leave her family and customs, and come to Israel (as Avraham and Sarah had done) would be a suitable matriarch for the new nation. He could not take a wife from the local population, because Avraham knew that the continuation of the nation would be through the children of Terach. However, he had to find a wife to ensure the promised continuation of the fledgling Jewish nation. Though we are normally expected to do everything that we can to help ourselves, and may not rely solely on G-d, when faced with the impossible we have no option but to place our trust solely in G-d.
Having reached that point, any action that we would take could only be counterproductive. Before setting out on his journey, Eliezer checks whether there is any ‘backup’ plan for finding Yitzchak a wife. “Perhaps this woman shall not wish to follow me to this land...? Avraham answered him ... G-d will send His angel before you, and you will take a wife for my son from there”. (Genesis 24; 5-7). Upon realising that there is no option but to rely on G-d, Eliezer does precisely that. Perhaps this is the reason that Avraham did not embark on this journey himself, but sent his trusted servant. Maybe he was concerned lest his personal emotional involvement prevent him from seeing the hand of G-d as clearly.
Yitzchak himself epitomised total trust and faith in G-d. Though Avraham was faced with a true test of his faith when G-d told him to offer his son on Mount Moriah, Yitzchak had already reached a level of faith where his only concern was that perhaps he would involuntarily flinch as the knife was placed on his throat, and invalidate the offering. In a sense he remained bound on the altar for the rest of his life, so totally dependent upon G-d that he had no need to be personally involved in planing his own future.
This total dependence and reliance on G-d is a high level to aspire to, which is not attained by most. The Talmud (Brachot 35b) records an argument between Rabbi Yishmael, who says that the verse “This Torah shall not depart from you mouth day or night” (Joshua 1; 8) only applies when one is not involved in earning a livelihood. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai maintains that if a person acts in accordance with G-d’s wishes, their work will be done for them by others. Abaye concludes “Many people acted in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yishmael, and they succeeded. There were those who followed Rabbi Shimon’s opinion, and they did not succeed.”
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Chaye Sarah Summary
Sarah dies in Kiryat Arba at the age of one hundred and twenty seven. After Avraham finishes mourning for her, he buys the cave of Machpela from Efron the Hittite, and buries her there.
Avraham sends his servant, Eliezer, to find a wife for Yitzhak (Isaac) in Haran. Eliezer prays to G-d for guidance and Rivka (Rebecca) arrives, showing through her actions that she is the woman he is seeking. After giving Eliezer and his camels water, she invites them back to her father’s house. Eliezer bargains with her family to be able to take her back to Yitzhak as a wife and Rivka agrees to go with him. Rivka meets Yitzhak and he brings her into his mother’s tent and takes her as his wife.
Avraham remarries and has six more sons, but gives everything to Yitzhak, while sending away his other sons with gifts. Avraham dies at the age of one hundred and seventy five and Yitzhak and Yishmael bury him in the cave of Machpela. The Parsha ends by detailing the generations of Yishmael.
Avraham sends his servant, Eliezer, to find a wife for Yitzhak (Isaac) in Haran. Eliezer prays to G-d for guidance and Rivka (Rebecca) arrives, showing through her actions that she is the woman he is seeking. After giving Eliezer and his camels water, she invites them back to her father’s house. Eliezer bargains with her family to be able to take her back to Yitzhak as a wife and Rivka agrees to go with him. Rivka meets Yitzhak and he brings her into his mother’s tent and takes her as his wife.
Avraham remarries and has six more sons, but gives everything to Yitzhak, while sending away his other sons with gifts. Avraham dies at the age of one hundred and seventy five and Yitzhak and Yishmael bury him in the cave of Machpela. The Parsha ends by detailing the generations of Yishmael.
Parshat Chaye Sarah 3
From the very beginning humans were expected to expend effort to attain their goals. When G-d created Adam and Eve and placed them in the Garden of Eden, He commanded them to “Work it and to guard it” (Genesis 2; 15). Even though everything was provided for them they were expected to earn their keep.
In our Torah reading it is surprising to find that Yitzchak seems to make no effort to find himself a wife, but relies on his father to appoint someone as matchmaker for him. Furthermore, when Eliezer, Avraham’s servant, arrives in Padan Aram he also makes no effort to find the suitable match, but tells G-d to show him the object of his quest. Comparing his actions with those of Ya’akov, when he arrives in Padan Aram, highlight the failure of Eliezer to make an effort to find Yitzchak’s prospective bride. Ya’akov arrives (ibid. 29), and ascertains that he has reached his destination, then begins asking questions about Lavan and his family, to try and find who his bride should be. When he sees Rachel he realises that she is to be his partner without having to make tests for her. Eliezer on the other hand simply tethers his camels, and tells G-d to do the rest.
Though we are supposed to have faith and trust in G-d, total reliance on Him is an abdication of responsibility, and a failure to take up his role as a partner in the activity going on around us. In fact the Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 60) criticises Eliezer for his request, which is described as improper.
Eliezer is described by the Torah as Damesek (Genesis 15; 2), which the Talmud (Yoma 28b) understands as a contraction of the phrase Doleh U’Mashkeh, ‘drawing water and giving to drink’. This describes his relationship with Avraham, that Eliezer is able to take the Torah which Avraham teaches, and disseminate it to the masses. However, the one thing that Eliezer is unable to do is initiate creative thought, or transmit his own teachings. He seems to be totally incapable of acting on his own.
Halachically we say that a non-Jewish slave does not own anything, anything he has belongs to his master. Eliezer seems to have taken that to the extreme that even his thoughts are not his own. In fact the Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 59; 8) tells us that he even looked like Avraham - he had completely lost any independent identity.
This is why Avraham sent Eliezer to find a wife for Yitzchak. He was faced with a dilemma. Yitzchak was not permitted to leave the Land of Israel, for only a wife who would be prepared to leave her family and customs, and come to Israel (as Avraham and Sarah had done) would be a suitable matriarch for the new nation. He could not take a wife from the local population, because Avraham knew that the continuation of the nation would be through the children of Terach. However, he had to find a wife to ensure the promised continuation of the fledgling Jewish nation. Though we are normally expected to do everything that we can to help ourselves, and may not rely solely on G-d, when faced with the impossible we have no option but to place our trust solely in G-d.
Having reached that point, any action that we would take could only be counterproductive. Before setting out on his journey, Eliezer checks whether there is any ‘backup’ plan for finding Yitzchak a wife. “Perhaps this woman shall not wish to follow me to this land...? Avraham answered him ... G-d will send His angel before you, and you will take a wife for my son from there”. (Genesis 24; 5-7). Upon realising that there is no option but to rely on G-d, Eliezer does precisely that. Perhaps this is the reason that Avraham did not embark on this journey himself, but sent his trusted servant. Maybe he was concerned lest his personal emotional involvement prevent him from seeing the hand of G-d as clearly.
Yitzchak himself epitomised total trust and faith in G-d. Though Avraham was faced with a true test of his faith when G-d told him to offer his son on Mount Moriah, Yitzchak had already reached a level of faith where his only concern was that perhaps he would involuntarily flinch as the knife was placed on his throat, and invalidate the offering. In a sense he remained bound on the altar for the rest of his life, so totally dependent upon G-d that he had no need to be personally involved in planing his own future.
This total dependence and reliance on G-d is a high level to aspire to, which is not attained by most. The Talmud (Brachot 35b) records an argument between Rabbi Yishmael, who says that the verse “This Torah shall not depart from you mouth day or night” (Joshua 1; 8) only applies when one is not involved in earning a livelihood. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai maintains that if a person acts in accordance with G-d’s wishes, their work will be done for them by others. Abaye concludes “Many people acted in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yishmael, and they succeeded. There were those who followed Rabbi Shimon’s opinion, and they did not succeed.”
In our Torah reading it is surprising to find that Yitzchak seems to make no effort to find himself a wife, but relies on his father to appoint someone as matchmaker for him. Furthermore, when Eliezer, Avraham’s servant, arrives in Padan Aram he also makes no effort to find the suitable match, but tells G-d to show him the object of his quest. Comparing his actions with those of Ya’akov, when he arrives in Padan Aram, highlight the failure of Eliezer to make an effort to find Yitzchak’s prospective bride. Ya’akov arrives (ibid. 29), and ascertains that he has reached his destination, then begins asking questions about Lavan and his family, to try and find who his bride should be. When he sees Rachel he realises that she is to be his partner without having to make tests for her. Eliezer on the other hand simply tethers his camels, and tells G-d to do the rest.
Though we are supposed to have faith and trust in G-d, total reliance on Him is an abdication of responsibility, and a failure to take up his role as a partner in the activity going on around us. In fact the Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 60) criticises Eliezer for his request, which is described as improper.
Eliezer is described by the Torah as Damesek (Genesis 15; 2), which the Talmud (Yoma 28b) understands as a contraction of the phrase Doleh U’Mashkeh, ‘drawing water and giving to drink’. This describes his relationship with Avraham, that Eliezer is able to take the Torah which Avraham teaches, and disseminate it to the masses. However, the one thing that Eliezer is unable to do is initiate creative thought, or transmit his own teachings. He seems to be totally incapable of acting on his own.
Halachically we say that a non-Jewish slave does not own anything, anything he has belongs to his master. Eliezer seems to have taken that to the extreme that even his thoughts are not his own. In fact the Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 59; 8) tells us that he even looked like Avraham - he had completely lost any independent identity.
This is why Avraham sent Eliezer to find a wife for Yitzchak. He was faced with a dilemma. Yitzchak was not permitted to leave the Land of Israel, for only a wife who would be prepared to leave her family and customs, and come to Israel (as Avraham and Sarah had done) would be a suitable matriarch for the new nation. He could not take a wife from the local population, because Avraham knew that the continuation of the nation would be through the children of Terach. However, he had to find a wife to ensure the promised continuation of the fledgling Jewish nation. Though we are normally expected to do everything that we can to help ourselves, and may not rely solely on G-d, when faced with the impossible we have no option but to place our trust solely in G-d.
Having reached that point, any action that we would take could only be counterproductive. Before setting out on his journey, Eliezer checks whether there is any ‘backup’ plan for finding Yitzchak a wife. “Perhaps this woman shall not wish to follow me to this land...? Avraham answered him ... G-d will send His angel before you, and you will take a wife for my son from there”. (Genesis 24; 5-7). Upon realising that there is no option but to rely on G-d, Eliezer does precisely that. Perhaps this is the reason that Avraham did not embark on this journey himself, but sent his trusted servant. Maybe he was concerned lest his personal emotional involvement prevent him from seeing the hand of G-d as clearly.
Yitzchak himself epitomised total trust and faith in G-d. Though Avraham was faced with a true test of his faith when G-d told him to offer his son on Mount Moriah, Yitzchak had already reached a level of faith where his only concern was that perhaps he would involuntarily flinch as the knife was placed on his throat, and invalidate the offering. In a sense he remained bound on the altar for the rest of his life, so totally dependent upon G-d that he had no need to be personally involved in planing his own future.
This total dependence and reliance on G-d is a high level to aspire to, which is not attained by most. The Talmud (Brachot 35b) records an argument between Rabbi Yishmael, who says that the verse “This Torah shall not depart from you mouth day or night” (Joshua 1; 8) only applies when one is not involved in earning a livelihood. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai maintains that if a person acts in accordance with G-d’s wishes, their work will be done for them by others. Abaye concludes “Many people acted in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yishmael, and they succeeded. There were those who followed Rabbi Shimon’s opinion, and they did not succeed.”
Parshat Chaye Sarah 2
In this week’s Torah reading Avraham sends his servant Eliezer to find a wife for his son Yitzchak. What is surprising is that the Torah not only relates the events surrounding Eliezer’s journey, but also repeats the whole story almost verbatim when Eliezer tells Rivka’s family what has happened. The Torah is normally concerned not to waste a single letter, and yet here we find whole paragraphs seemingly for no purpose.
Rashi addresses this question with his comment (Genesis 24; 42) “Rabbi Acha said: The speech of the servants of the forefathers is dearer to G-d than the Torah of their children, because we see that the section of Eliezer is repeated in the Torah, whereas many of the essential laws are [not even written in the Torah explicitly but are] only hinted at.” Rashi points out that this whole section appears to be redundant, but how are we to understand the answer? Why should G-d choose to prefer the story of Eliezer over the laws that will govern our lives?
Indeed this implies a more fundamental issue, namely, what is the purpose and function of the Bible? Is it a historical narrative or is it a code of law? Rashi’s very first comment on the Torah is: Rabbi Yitzchak said “The Torah should have begun with [the verse] ‘This month will be for you the first month’ (Exodus 12; 2), which was the first commandment given to the Jews....” In other words it would have made more sense for the Torah to have been purely a book of law, and not have included all the stories of creation and the patriarchs. Rashi’s answers that though these sections contain no legal codes, nevertheless we can learn from them moral and ethical behaviour, based on G-d’s creation of the world, and the actions of the forefathers.
Rabbi Aharon Kotler zt”l (Mishnas Aharon p. 132) explains why Eliezer’s search for a wife for Yitzchak deserves more space in the Torah than many of the laws and commandments. He explains that the principles by which Halacha can be deduced and derived from the text of the Torah were handed down by G-d to Moshe at Mount Sinai. Therefore even when there are few words explicitly in the text, it is a comparatively simple exercise to apply the hermeneutic principles and learn the details of each Halacha.
However there is another area of law which is more complicated, that is referred to by the Rabbis as Hilchot Derech Eretz (literally: laws of the way of the world). This is the way in which a person relates and interacts with his or her surroundings, and how they behave with other people. This is the part of Halacha which cannot be derived from merely reading books, or applying principles, but depends upon insight into human nature and the ways of the world. It requires years of serving experienced Rabbis (Shimush Talmidei Chachamim) and gaining a feel for reality. This is where the dry laws become real life, and turns the Torah into a relevant code for daily living. These laws are much harder to understand, they depend on the background of the person involved, and the details of the situation. No two decisions should ever be the same, reflecting the infinite variety of experience and life. It is these concepts which we can glimpse through the story of Eliezer and the repetition of his tale.
The Talmud (Avoda Zara 25a) alludes to this in understanding Yehoshua’s words “Is it not written in the Book of Yashar” (Joshua 10; 13). It explains that this refers to the book of Genesis, the book of Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov who were the Yasharim (upright) of the world. They were upright in their actions and character traits, and from them we can learn how to relate to our environment and to other people.
From this story of Eliezer we learn the concepts of faith and trust in G-d. We also see that someone who sets out to do perform G-d’s will receives special help from heaven. Furthermore, we can derive the special qualities of the mothers of the nation, and also see the attributes that should be sought after in a spouse. From Eliezer’s encounter with Lavan and Bethuel we see how to interact with people who do not have the same goals and values as us. We see Eliezer’s modesty, and learn that we should not present ourselves as anything other than we are.
Eliezer himself also gained a clearer understanding of his own biases and personal prejudices from retelling the story and reviewing what happened. When he set out he asked Avraham what he should do if the prospective wife refused to return to Canaan to marry Yitzchak. Later he realises that he was hoping that his own daughter would be a suitable match for Yitzchak, and was looking for an excuse to avoid finding him another candidate. We too can learn from here that reflecting and reviewing our action can often lead to a better understanding of who we are, and what motives underlie our actions.
This is why the conversations of the servants of the forefathers are dearer than the laws of the children, for from their actions and words we can learn how to apply the rest of the laws. Hilchot Derech Eretz brings the religion alive. Without it none of the laws are worth much, as they have no application in our lives.
Rashi addresses this question with his comment (Genesis 24; 42) “Rabbi Acha said: The speech of the servants of the forefathers is dearer to G-d than the Torah of their children, because we see that the section of Eliezer is repeated in the Torah, whereas many of the essential laws are [not even written in the Torah explicitly but are] only hinted at.” Rashi points out that this whole section appears to be redundant, but how are we to understand the answer? Why should G-d choose to prefer the story of Eliezer over the laws that will govern our lives?
Indeed this implies a more fundamental issue, namely, what is the purpose and function of the Bible? Is it a historical narrative or is it a code of law? Rashi’s very first comment on the Torah is: Rabbi Yitzchak said “The Torah should have begun with [the verse] ‘This month will be for you the first month’ (Exodus 12; 2), which was the first commandment given to the Jews....” In other words it would have made more sense for the Torah to have been purely a book of law, and not have included all the stories of creation and the patriarchs. Rashi’s answers that though these sections contain no legal codes, nevertheless we can learn from them moral and ethical behaviour, based on G-d’s creation of the world, and the actions of the forefathers.
Rabbi Aharon Kotler zt”l (Mishnas Aharon p. 132) explains why Eliezer’s search for a wife for Yitzchak deserves more space in the Torah than many of the laws and commandments. He explains that the principles by which Halacha can be deduced and derived from the text of the Torah were handed down by G-d to Moshe at Mount Sinai. Therefore even when there are few words explicitly in the text, it is a comparatively simple exercise to apply the hermeneutic principles and learn the details of each Halacha.
However there is another area of law which is more complicated, that is referred to by the Rabbis as Hilchot Derech Eretz (literally: laws of the way of the world). This is the way in which a person relates and interacts with his or her surroundings, and how they behave with other people. This is the part of Halacha which cannot be derived from merely reading books, or applying principles, but depends upon insight into human nature and the ways of the world. It requires years of serving experienced Rabbis (Shimush Talmidei Chachamim) and gaining a feel for reality. This is where the dry laws become real life, and turns the Torah into a relevant code for daily living. These laws are much harder to understand, they depend on the background of the person involved, and the details of the situation. No two decisions should ever be the same, reflecting the infinite variety of experience and life. It is these concepts which we can glimpse through the story of Eliezer and the repetition of his tale.
The Talmud (Avoda Zara 25a) alludes to this in understanding Yehoshua’s words “Is it not written in the Book of Yashar” (Joshua 10; 13). It explains that this refers to the book of Genesis, the book of Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov who were the Yasharim (upright) of the world. They were upright in their actions and character traits, and from them we can learn how to relate to our environment and to other people.
From this story of Eliezer we learn the concepts of faith and trust in G-d. We also see that someone who sets out to do perform G-d’s will receives special help from heaven. Furthermore, we can derive the special qualities of the mothers of the nation, and also see the attributes that should be sought after in a spouse. From Eliezer’s encounter with Lavan and Bethuel we see how to interact with people who do not have the same goals and values as us. We see Eliezer’s modesty, and learn that we should not present ourselves as anything other than we are.
Eliezer himself also gained a clearer understanding of his own biases and personal prejudices from retelling the story and reviewing what happened. When he set out he asked Avraham what he should do if the prospective wife refused to return to Canaan to marry Yitzchak. Later he realises that he was hoping that his own daughter would be a suitable match for Yitzchak, and was looking for an excuse to avoid finding him another candidate. We too can learn from here that reflecting and reviewing our action can often lead to a better understanding of who we are, and what motives underlie our actions.
This is why the conversations of the servants of the forefathers are dearer than the laws of the children, for from their actions and words we can learn how to apply the rest of the laws. Hilchot Derech Eretz brings the religion alive. Without it none of the laws are worth much, as they have no application in our lives.
Parshat Chaye Sarah
The Torah describes Yitzhak meeting Rivka for the first time. After meeting her and being introduced to her “Yizchak brought her into the tent [of] Sarah his mother”. Actually, the Torah doesn’t add in the word “of”. In fact, Rashi1 explains that Yitzchak brought her into the tent and she became Sarah his mother. If we look at the Targum we can understand this better. He translates this verse as “Yitzchak brought her into the tent, and looked and saw that her actions were as proper as those of Sarah”. The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba, 60: 16)explains how he could see immediately that Rivka shared the same admirable qualities of Sarah; while Sarah was alive there was a candle lit that would last from one Erev Shabbat (Friday afternoon) to the next, and a special blessing on the bread, and a cloud (of G-d’s presence) hovered above the tent. When Sarah died these three blessings ceased, but as soon as Rivka entered her tent they resumed. Yitzchak could perceive through these blessings that she was as equally righteous as his mother had been. What was so special about these three blessings that they were testimony to the righteousness of the matriarchs?
The Ba’al HaTurim, in his commentary on the word “her tent”, points out that this same word, HaOhela, appears eight other times in the Bible. He explains that these eight times hint to the eight places that the Divine Presence rested, first in the tabernacle in the desert, then in Gilgal (when they first entered Israel), then in Shilo, Nov, Givon, the First Temple in Jerusalem, the Second Temple after the destruction of the First, and in the future when the Messiah arrives. What is the connection between the tent of Sarah and Rivka, and the sites where the Shechina dwelled?
The answer to both of these questions is hinted at by the Ramban (Nachmanides), in his commentary to the beginning of Shemot, the book of Exodus. In his opening comments he discusses the main theme of the book as being one of redemption. But he stresses that being freed from the physical shackles of slavery in Egypt is only a partial redemption. Full redemption from the spiritual bonds is only achieved once the Jews have returned to the spiritual level of their forefathers. This occurred only once they had received the Torah at Mount Sinai and constructed the Mishkan (Tabernacle). This is the reason that Shemot concludes with “The Cloud of Glory covering the tent of meeting, and the glory of the L-rd filled he Mishkan”.
In other words, the Mishkan and later the Temple were only a means to return to the spiritual level achieved by Sarah and Rivka in their homes. The cloud of glory which covered the Tabernacle, and the Temple in Jerusalem, was the same cloud that was constantly present above the tent of Sarah and Rivka. In fact the other two blessings, the candle that remained constantly lit and the bread which remained fresh, were also paralleled in the Mishkan and the Temple, with the Menorah which was lit every night and the showbread which was placed in the Sanctuary and remained fresh from one Shabbat to the next.
This explains the Ba’al HaTurim’s comment that “HaOhela” refers to the eight sites where the Shechina dwelt, because the tent of Sarah was actually the first such place which was the paradigm for all future sites. The degree to which the patriarchs were able to make G-d’s presence felt in this world, through their homes and family relationships, was the ultimate goal which we later required the Temple to achieve. This is why they merited to be buried in Chevron, in the cave which Avraham purchased in which to bury Sarah. Chevron comes form the root Chibur, connection. Sarah and Avraham, and later Rivka and Yitzchak, and Leah and Ya’akov, were the ones who brought G-d into this world, connecting the spiritual worlds where the Shechina dwells with our own physical world.
We find many laws and customs to do with the home that parallel activities performed in the Temple. What we must realise is that in fact it is really the other way round. The Temple and its services were only a means of reaching the levels of spirituality found in the homes of our matriarchs. When we say that the focus of Judaism is not in the Temple or in the Synagogue but in the home, we are expressing this same idea, that all of the rituals and ceremonies are only a lesser substitute for the spirituality and Divine Presence that can be achieved in the home.
The Ba’al HaTurim, in his commentary on the word “her tent”, points out that this same word, HaOhela, appears eight other times in the Bible. He explains that these eight times hint to the eight places that the Divine Presence rested, first in the tabernacle in the desert, then in Gilgal (when they first entered Israel), then in Shilo, Nov, Givon, the First Temple in Jerusalem, the Second Temple after the destruction of the First, and in the future when the Messiah arrives. What is the connection between the tent of Sarah and Rivka, and the sites where the Shechina dwelled?
The answer to both of these questions is hinted at by the Ramban (Nachmanides), in his commentary to the beginning of Shemot, the book of Exodus. In his opening comments he discusses the main theme of the book as being one of redemption. But he stresses that being freed from the physical shackles of slavery in Egypt is only a partial redemption. Full redemption from the spiritual bonds is only achieved once the Jews have returned to the spiritual level of their forefathers. This occurred only once they had received the Torah at Mount Sinai and constructed the Mishkan (Tabernacle). This is the reason that Shemot concludes with “The Cloud of Glory covering the tent of meeting, and the glory of the L-rd filled he Mishkan”.
In other words, the Mishkan and later the Temple were only a means to return to the spiritual level achieved by Sarah and Rivka in their homes. The cloud of glory which covered the Tabernacle, and the Temple in Jerusalem, was the same cloud that was constantly present above the tent of Sarah and Rivka. In fact the other two blessings, the candle that remained constantly lit and the bread which remained fresh, were also paralleled in the Mishkan and the Temple, with the Menorah which was lit every night and the showbread which was placed in the Sanctuary and remained fresh from one Shabbat to the next.
This explains the Ba’al HaTurim’s comment that “HaOhela” refers to the eight sites where the Shechina dwelt, because the tent of Sarah was actually the first such place which was the paradigm for all future sites. The degree to which the patriarchs were able to make G-d’s presence felt in this world, through their homes and family relationships, was the ultimate goal which we later required the Temple to achieve. This is why they merited to be buried in Chevron, in the cave which Avraham purchased in which to bury Sarah. Chevron comes form the root Chibur, connection. Sarah and Avraham, and later Rivka and Yitzchak, and Leah and Ya’akov, were the ones who brought G-d into this world, connecting the spiritual worlds where the Shechina dwells with our own physical world.
We find many laws and customs to do with the home that parallel activities performed in the Temple. What we must realise is that in fact it is really the other way round. The Temple and its services were only a means of reaching the levels of spirituality found in the homes of our matriarchs. When we say that the focus of Judaism is not in the Temple or in the Synagogue but in the home, we are expressing this same idea, that all of the rituals and ceremonies are only a lesser substitute for the spirituality and Divine Presence that can be achieved in the home.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Parshat Vayera 4
The Parsha opens with G-d appearing to Avraham. We can’t begin to imagine the sublime spiritual delight of basking in the actual presence of G-d. Avraham was now at the highest level of prophecy, and was able to literally hold a conversation with the Creator of the universe. Yet in the very next verse, when he sees three men in the desert, at a distance, he runs to greet them. He cuts G-d short, as it were, excuses himself from the prophecy he is receiving, and rushes to offer hospitality to a ragged group of wandering travellers. Even though offering hospitality is clearly a very important thing to do, why would anyone choose to stop a conversation with G-d, the ultimate in spirituality, in order to do one single good deed? Furthermore, who gave him permission to break off this prophecy in order to fulfil the Mitzvah of hospitality? Shouldn’t G-d have told him to leave if that was really more important?
To answer this question, we must digress to look at the origin of idolatry, which Avraham dedicated his life to refuting. Obviously people were not so naive as to spend 15 minutes building an idol, set it on a pedestal, and then become confused as to who created whom. Rather, the chain of events which led up to idolatry was as follows. Many things in this world appear to have no apparent function other than their beauty. For example, to you or I it would make very little difference if, instead of 75 billion stars, there were two missing. If the only purpose that G-d has for creating the stars is for beauty, then it would seem that we should spend time contemplating that beauty. Since the stars are not visible during the daytime, doesn’t it make sense to make pictures and replicas of them so we can spend more time involved in the wonders of creation? Perhaps we should set aside regular times for this contemplation, formalising our spirituality in order to reach a greater understanding? And since some people are more spiritually inclined than others, it would make sense that we should have them instruct us as to how to best understand the wisdom of the stars. Soon enough, you have an entire religion built up, worshipping idols of stars.
This is the process that occurred in the generations prior to Avraham’s, and this was the society in which he was raised. At which point did they make their mistake? Surely the last step of worshipping the stars was merely an inevitable consequence of everything that had gone before. In fact, the real mistake was the first step, searching the heavens for spirituality. What Avraham realised, was that the purpose of life was not meditation of the sublime, but rather the hands on, day to day activities. It was these that we should concentrate on. That is why he dedicated his life to helping others: not because he was the “nice guy” of the ancient world, but because he saw this as the purpose of mankind.
Therefore, to return to our questions, it was obvious to Avraham that he was obligated to run out to greet guests, even if it meant interrupting his dialogue with G-d. The purpose of existence was not contemplating the Divine, but rather the small details of our daily conduct. He knew that since G-d had chosen him, and singled him out to begin the Jewish nation, that G-d agreed with him that this was the correct path.
In Victor E. Frankl’s book, ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’, in the section describing his experiences in concentration camps during the holocaust, he summarises this idea very well. He writes: “We needed to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life-daily and hourly. Our answer must consist, not in talk and meditation, but in right actions and right conduct...”Life” does not mean something vague, but something very real and concrete, just as life’s tasks are also very real and concrete.”
The opening of the Parsha teaches us that the most important goals in life are not contemplating abstracts and philosophies, but rather the nitty-gritty details of how we behave every minute of the day. This is also the reason taht Jewish Law consists almost entirely of techinical details, rather than sweeping statements about “belief” or “philosophy”. It is in these details that we define our relationship with the Divine.
To answer this question, we must digress to look at the origin of idolatry, which Avraham dedicated his life to refuting. Obviously people were not so naive as to spend 15 minutes building an idol, set it on a pedestal, and then become confused as to who created whom. Rather, the chain of events which led up to idolatry was as follows. Many things in this world appear to have no apparent function other than their beauty. For example, to you or I it would make very little difference if, instead of 75 billion stars, there were two missing. If the only purpose that G-d has for creating the stars is for beauty, then it would seem that we should spend time contemplating that beauty. Since the stars are not visible during the daytime, doesn’t it make sense to make pictures and replicas of them so we can spend more time involved in the wonders of creation? Perhaps we should set aside regular times for this contemplation, formalising our spirituality in order to reach a greater understanding? And since some people are more spiritually inclined than others, it would make sense that we should have them instruct us as to how to best understand the wisdom of the stars. Soon enough, you have an entire religion built up, worshipping idols of stars.
This is the process that occurred in the generations prior to Avraham’s, and this was the society in which he was raised. At which point did they make their mistake? Surely the last step of worshipping the stars was merely an inevitable consequence of everything that had gone before. In fact, the real mistake was the first step, searching the heavens for spirituality. What Avraham realised, was that the purpose of life was not meditation of the sublime, but rather the hands on, day to day activities. It was these that we should concentrate on. That is why he dedicated his life to helping others: not because he was the “nice guy” of the ancient world, but because he saw this as the purpose of mankind.
Therefore, to return to our questions, it was obvious to Avraham that he was obligated to run out to greet guests, even if it meant interrupting his dialogue with G-d. The purpose of existence was not contemplating the Divine, but rather the small details of our daily conduct. He knew that since G-d had chosen him, and singled him out to begin the Jewish nation, that G-d agreed with him that this was the correct path.
In Victor E. Frankl’s book, ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’, in the section describing his experiences in concentration camps during the holocaust, he summarises this idea very well. He writes: “We needed to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life-daily and hourly. Our answer must consist, not in talk and meditation, but in right actions and right conduct...”Life” does not mean something vague, but something very real and concrete, just as life’s tasks are also very real and concrete.”
The opening of the Parsha teaches us that the most important goals in life are not contemplating abstracts and philosophies, but rather the nitty-gritty details of how we behave every minute of the day. This is also the reason taht Jewish Law consists almost entirely of techinical details, rather than sweeping statements about “belief” or “philosophy”. It is in these details that we define our relationship with the Divine.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Parshat Vayera 3
The Midrash Tanchuma (quoted in part by Rashi to Genesis 18; 1) explains why G-d appeared to Avraham in Alonei Mamre:
Avraham had three close friends, Aner, Eshkol and Mamre. When G-d told Avraham to circumcise himself he asked each of them for advice. Aner told him that he would endanger himself if the relatives of the kings came for revenge and would be unable to flee. Eshkol said to him that it was dangerous at his age to perform this operation. Mamre replied, “What are you asking for advice for? G-d has saved you from the fiery furnace into which you were thrown by Nimrod, and performed miracles for you and saved you from the four kings. Were it not for Him and his powers you would have been killed. G-d saved all of your 248 limbs and organs, and yet when He asks you to sacrifice a little bit of one part of your body you come to me for advice?” Because Mamre gave Avraham the advice G-d chose to reveal Himself to Avraham in his territory. This is why the Torah says “G-d appeared to [Avraham] in the fields of Mamre”.
Why did Avraham chose to ask advice, surely after all that he had been through and all the tests that he had faced he would not doubt G-d’s commands. And why did Avraham not follow the majority opinion to not circumcise himself. Aner and Eshkol’s advice seems as valid as Mamre’s.
Avraham and Sarah devoted themselves to bringing the message of monotheism to the world. Wherever they travelled they would gather people to them and show them the foolishness of idolatry, and the truth of a belief in one G-d. These people in turn would continue to teach others about G-d, and bring more people close to G-d. The person closest to Avraham was his servant Eliezer, and Avraham had assumed that he who would inherit him and continue with Avraham’s work.
To be able to make an impact on the world, Avraham needed to be preaching a universal message. Any religious beliefs or requirements that would set Avraham and his followers apart from the rest of society would minimise the number of people who would join the faith. Though Avraham was not afraid to set himself apart from the rest of society (he is called Ivri because he set himself on one bank of the river even though the whole world was on the other side), he thought that the future of monotheism was with those he could influence. He was therefore concerned to attract as many followers as possible.
However, G-d had other plans. G-d knew that Judaism would not be continued through those who had become attached to Avraham. They were more influenced by his personality than his beliefs, and without Avraham at the helm they gave up and disappeared from history. Despite all the followers that Avraham had gathered during his lifetime, when the Jews went down to Egypt, only Ya’akov and his immediate family remained.
Avraham underestimated the need for an heir to ensure the continuation of monotheism. He also failed to realise that it is through the uniqueness of the future Jewish nation that they will survive. When G-d told him to circumcise himself and his entire household, he didn’t question G-d’s commands. However he wanted to understand them. How would others react to Avraham making himself physically different than any other nation? Could he retain converts and allies if he alienated himself through circumcision? Therefore he first asked his three close friends for their advice.
Avraham would have performed G-d’s command regardless of the advice he received, which is why he didn’t follow the majority opinion. He wanted to gauge the response of others. Though Aner and Eshkol gave seemingly sensible advice, they showed their lack of faith in G-d. They were looking at the normal course of events, and didn’t realise that Avraham’s realtionship with G-d was beyond the natural cycle. Only Mamre understood that the whole religion of Avraham was based on continued miracles. Avraham perceived from Mamre’s advice that though many of the nations may choose not to understand the relationship of Avraham and his descendants with G-d, if they would look with an open mind they could come to terms with the uniqueness of the nation. Circumcision was a prerequisite for Yitzchak’s birth, because only once Avraham had himself shown to the world that Judaism is beyond the natural order, would G-d perform the miracle of giving him and Sarah a child.
It is the individuality and uniqueness of Judaism that have kept the nation alive for over 3000 years. Whenever the Jews tried to become like the surrounding nations they have grown weak and slowly disappeared. Only through the uniqueness symbolised by circumcision, and shown through the miraculous birth of Yitzchak, have they been able to remain a nation, and make the uniqueness of G-d known in the world.
The Malbim captures this idea in his commentary to the verse “Av Hamon Goyim” (17; 5) which is the meaning of the name Avraham: “Do not think that the nations will reject you becasue you have circumcised yourself. On the contrary, as a result of your distinction they will regard you as their guide and patriarch.”
Avraham had three close friends, Aner, Eshkol and Mamre. When G-d told Avraham to circumcise himself he asked each of them for advice. Aner told him that he would endanger himself if the relatives of the kings came for revenge and would be unable to flee. Eshkol said to him that it was dangerous at his age to perform this operation. Mamre replied, “What are you asking for advice for? G-d has saved you from the fiery furnace into which you were thrown by Nimrod, and performed miracles for you and saved you from the four kings. Were it not for Him and his powers you would have been killed. G-d saved all of your 248 limbs and organs, and yet when He asks you to sacrifice a little bit of one part of your body you come to me for advice?” Because Mamre gave Avraham the advice G-d chose to reveal Himself to Avraham in his territory. This is why the Torah says “G-d appeared to [Avraham] in the fields of Mamre”.
Why did Avraham chose to ask advice, surely after all that he had been through and all the tests that he had faced he would not doubt G-d’s commands. And why did Avraham not follow the majority opinion to not circumcise himself. Aner and Eshkol’s advice seems as valid as Mamre’s.
Avraham and Sarah devoted themselves to bringing the message of monotheism to the world. Wherever they travelled they would gather people to them and show them the foolishness of idolatry, and the truth of a belief in one G-d. These people in turn would continue to teach others about G-d, and bring more people close to G-d. The person closest to Avraham was his servant Eliezer, and Avraham had assumed that he who would inherit him and continue with Avraham’s work.
To be able to make an impact on the world, Avraham needed to be preaching a universal message. Any religious beliefs or requirements that would set Avraham and his followers apart from the rest of society would minimise the number of people who would join the faith. Though Avraham was not afraid to set himself apart from the rest of society (he is called Ivri because he set himself on one bank of the river even though the whole world was on the other side), he thought that the future of monotheism was with those he could influence. He was therefore concerned to attract as many followers as possible.
However, G-d had other plans. G-d knew that Judaism would not be continued through those who had become attached to Avraham. They were more influenced by his personality than his beliefs, and without Avraham at the helm they gave up and disappeared from history. Despite all the followers that Avraham had gathered during his lifetime, when the Jews went down to Egypt, only Ya’akov and his immediate family remained.
Avraham underestimated the need for an heir to ensure the continuation of monotheism. He also failed to realise that it is through the uniqueness of the future Jewish nation that they will survive. When G-d told him to circumcise himself and his entire household, he didn’t question G-d’s commands. However he wanted to understand them. How would others react to Avraham making himself physically different than any other nation? Could he retain converts and allies if he alienated himself through circumcision? Therefore he first asked his three close friends for their advice.
Avraham would have performed G-d’s command regardless of the advice he received, which is why he didn’t follow the majority opinion. He wanted to gauge the response of others. Though Aner and Eshkol gave seemingly sensible advice, they showed their lack of faith in G-d. They were looking at the normal course of events, and didn’t realise that Avraham’s realtionship with G-d was beyond the natural cycle. Only Mamre understood that the whole religion of Avraham was based on continued miracles. Avraham perceived from Mamre’s advice that though many of the nations may choose not to understand the relationship of Avraham and his descendants with G-d, if they would look with an open mind they could come to terms with the uniqueness of the nation. Circumcision was a prerequisite for Yitzchak’s birth, because only once Avraham had himself shown to the world that Judaism is beyond the natural order, would G-d perform the miracle of giving him and Sarah a child.
It is the individuality and uniqueness of Judaism that have kept the nation alive for over 3000 years. Whenever the Jews tried to become like the surrounding nations they have grown weak and slowly disappeared. Only through the uniqueness symbolised by circumcision, and shown through the miraculous birth of Yitzchak, have they been able to remain a nation, and make the uniqueness of G-d known in the world.
The Malbim captures this idea in his commentary to the verse “Av Hamon Goyim” (17; 5) which is the meaning of the name Avraham: “Do not think that the nations will reject you becasue you have circumcised yourself. On the contrary, as a result of your distinction they will regard you as their guide and patriarch.”
Parshat Vayera 2
In our Torah portion Avraham argues with G-d over the fate of Sodom and Gomorra. When G-d tells him that these cities are about to be destroyed for their wickedness Avraham begins protracted negotiations to try and save the inhabitants. “Perhaps there are fifty righteous people in the city?”... “Maybe there are forty five”... until finally “Would you destroy the city for the sake of ten [righteous people]?” (Genesis 18; 24-32).
Rashi explains that Sodom was actually a metropolis of five separate cities, so that when Avraham mentioned fifty he was praying that G-d save all five cities for the sake of ten righteous people in each. Similarly, forty, thirty, twenty and ten were entreaties to spare at least some of the cities if any would contain ten righteous people. When Avraham asked whether there were forty five righteous people he was asking G-d to make up the minyan (so to speak) if there were at least nine righteous people in each city. When he realised that there were not even nine people worthy of being saved Avraham conceded defeat and stopped praying on their behalf. Rashi adds that Avraham did not pray on behalf of less than nine, because he knew that in the time of Noach there were eight righteous people (Noach, his wife, their three sons and their wives), yet that was not sufficient to avoid the flood.
Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz asks how Avraham could have taken Noach as his role model? Isiah describes the flood as the “waters of Noach” (54; 9), and the commentaries there explain that the flood is called Noach’s flood because he is held partially responsible. He should have prayed for his generation to be spared, but instead he was only concerned with saving himself and his family. If Noach is criticised for not having prayed, how could Avraham have learnt from him? Conversely, if there were only eight righteous people in Noach’s time, and that was not enough to save the world, why is he held accountable for not having prayed?
The Rabbis tell us that before Pharaoh decided to kill all the baby boys born to the Israelites in Egypt he asked his three main advisors for their opinion. Bilam encouraged him, and was eventually killed, Job remained silent, and was later afflicted with great suffering, and Jethro fled, and merited that his descendants would be part of the Jewish nation. Clearly there was no way of preventing Pharaoh from carrying out his evil intentions, which is why Jethro was forced to flee. If so, why was Job punished for his silence, even had he protested it would not have changed the outcome?
We have a tradition that punishment from G-d is never vindictive, but is in order to correct a character flaw that led to the transgression. Rabbi Shmuelevitz explains that the afflictions of Job were not in order to make him suffer, but to make him cry out to G-d. His silence in Pharaoh's court showed that he didn’t identify with the pain and suffering of others. How could anyone remain silent when they hear about such a monstrous plan. He was not being punished for not preventing Pharaoh's decree, for that was impossible, but for not having cried out at the anguish of others.
This is the same reason that Noach is held responsible for the flood. Not that his prayers could have averted G-d’s decree of destruction for the world, because he knew that G-d would not spare the entire world for the sake of only eight people. But nevertheless, he should not have remained silent. Because he did not identify with the suffering of others he was forced to tend to and care for all the animals in the ark for a year. He soon learnt the importance of caring for the needs of others.
Avraham on the other hand had already prayed so hard for the people of Sodom that he was forced to apologise for his behaviour. Once he reached a point where he knew that his prayers would be futile he desisted from his protest, but only after he had shown how sympathetic he was to their plight. This is why Noach is criticised for his actions, while Avraham is praised.
Rashi explains that Sodom was actually a metropolis of five separate cities, so that when Avraham mentioned fifty he was praying that G-d save all five cities for the sake of ten righteous people in each. Similarly, forty, thirty, twenty and ten were entreaties to spare at least some of the cities if any would contain ten righteous people. When Avraham asked whether there were forty five righteous people he was asking G-d to make up the minyan (so to speak) if there were at least nine righteous people in each city. When he realised that there were not even nine people worthy of being saved Avraham conceded defeat and stopped praying on their behalf. Rashi adds that Avraham did not pray on behalf of less than nine, because he knew that in the time of Noach there were eight righteous people (Noach, his wife, their three sons and their wives), yet that was not sufficient to avoid the flood.
Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz asks how Avraham could have taken Noach as his role model? Isiah describes the flood as the “waters of Noach” (54; 9), and the commentaries there explain that the flood is called Noach’s flood because he is held partially responsible. He should have prayed for his generation to be spared, but instead he was only concerned with saving himself and his family. If Noach is criticised for not having prayed, how could Avraham have learnt from him? Conversely, if there were only eight righteous people in Noach’s time, and that was not enough to save the world, why is he held accountable for not having prayed?
The Rabbis tell us that before Pharaoh decided to kill all the baby boys born to the Israelites in Egypt he asked his three main advisors for their opinion. Bilam encouraged him, and was eventually killed, Job remained silent, and was later afflicted with great suffering, and Jethro fled, and merited that his descendants would be part of the Jewish nation. Clearly there was no way of preventing Pharaoh from carrying out his evil intentions, which is why Jethro was forced to flee. If so, why was Job punished for his silence, even had he protested it would not have changed the outcome?
We have a tradition that punishment from G-d is never vindictive, but is in order to correct a character flaw that led to the transgression. Rabbi Shmuelevitz explains that the afflictions of Job were not in order to make him suffer, but to make him cry out to G-d. His silence in Pharaoh's court showed that he didn’t identify with the pain and suffering of others. How could anyone remain silent when they hear about such a monstrous plan. He was not being punished for not preventing Pharaoh's decree, for that was impossible, but for not having cried out at the anguish of others.
This is the same reason that Noach is held responsible for the flood. Not that his prayers could have averted G-d’s decree of destruction for the world, because he knew that G-d would not spare the entire world for the sake of only eight people. But nevertheless, he should not have remained silent. Because he did not identify with the suffering of others he was forced to tend to and care for all the animals in the ark for a year. He soon learnt the importance of caring for the needs of others.
Avraham on the other hand had already prayed so hard for the people of Sodom that he was forced to apologise for his behaviour. Once he reached a point where he knew that his prayers would be futile he desisted from his protest, but only after he had shown how sympathetic he was to their plight. This is why Noach is criticised for his actions, while Avraham is praised.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Parshat Vayera
When G-d tells Avraham that He is about to destroy Sodom and Gemorrah, Avraham pleads and bargains with G-d to save those cities and their inhabitants. During the negotiations, Avraham shows his humility by describing himself as “mere earth and ashes” (Genesis 18; 27). Rabbi Yonasan Eibschitz points out that with the double phrase of ‘earth and ashes’ Avraham is seeking extra merit for the people of Sodom. ‘Earth’ stresses the fact that people are only mortal, and their origin is in the earth. With such a background it is only natural that people are drawn to sin, since the base element of their physical body draws the soul away from G-d.
However, Avraham himself show the futility of this claim. If he was able to surmount such humble origins, and elevate himself to the service of G-d, what excuse do the people of Sodom have? Elsewhere in the Tanach we find a similar claim. The Tzorfati woman asks Eliyahu to leave her home, saying: “Have you come to me to show up my sins, to kill my son?” (IKings 17; 18). Though she was one of the few righteous people of the generation, compared to Eliyahu she felt inadequate, and any shortcomings that she had were highlighted by his near perfection. Though Avraham was arguing on behalf of the Sodomites, his personal commitment showed up their faults. Therefore he added ‘ash’, as a reminder of the fact that he had survived being thrown into a furnace by Nimrod, in Ur Kasdim. Though he survived miraculously, he could have been burnt to ash. Since he personally experienced the miracle of surviving the furnace, he had a greater debt of gratitude to G-d. Therefore he describes himself as ash to plead on behalf of the Sodomites that because they had not experienced this Divine salvation G-d could not reasonably expect such a high level of behaviour from them.
There is another dimension to Avraham describing himself as ‘earth’. G-d changed his name to Avraham, meaning ‘father of many nations’ because Avraham felt an affinity with people of every nation and origin. He was able to see the intrinsic holiness within each person, and bring out that goodness, leading to spiritual growth. Therefore he is like the earth, which spreads across national boundaries indiscriminately. Earth is also the environment in which seeds grow, turning the smallest ‘spark’ of life into trees and flowers.
This ‘mineral’ description of Avraham is in sharp contrast to that of Lot’s wife. After fleeing from Sodom, she looked back to see the destruction, and was turned into a pillar of salt (19; 26). The pillar, which is firmly rooted to a geographical location is the opposite of the earth which covers almost all of the globe. Also, salt is singled out in Midrashic literature as the most infertile substance. For example, when the Romans destroyed Jerusalem, they ploughed it with salt to try and prevent it’s resettlement.
Avraham’s name shows his ability to reach out to everybody. Lot’s wife, according to Midrashic literature (e.g. Ramban to 19; 17) was named Irit, which means ‘city dweller’. She was firmly attached to her locale to the point where she was unable to leave, even though it cost her her life. Avraham’s humility made him the international man, Lot’s wife epitomised the Sodomite mentality of ‘what’s mine is mine’ (Ethics of the Fathers 5; 10), which prevented any connection or feeling of fraternity with any visitors or strangers.
Yet these three minerals, earth, ash and salt all come together on the altar in the Temple. The main altar is known as the Mizbeach HaAdama (earthen altar), and their were always ashes on it. In addition, the Torah commands that each sacrifice must be accompanied by a small amount of salt (Leviticus 2: 13). This symbolises the dual nature of the Temple and the Jewish people, as both concerned with the welfare of the world, and personifying humility, while at the same time clinging to the laws, traditions and customs that have been practised through the millennia.
However, Avraham himself show the futility of this claim. If he was able to surmount such humble origins, and elevate himself to the service of G-d, what excuse do the people of Sodom have? Elsewhere in the Tanach we find a similar claim. The Tzorfati woman asks Eliyahu to leave her home, saying: “Have you come to me to show up my sins, to kill my son?” (IKings 17; 18). Though she was one of the few righteous people of the generation, compared to Eliyahu she felt inadequate, and any shortcomings that she had were highlighted by his near perfection. Though Avraham was arguing on behalf of the Sodomites, his personal commitment showed up their faults. Therefore he added ‘ash’, as a reminder of the fact that he had survived being thrown into a furnace by Nimrod, in Ur Kasdim. Though he survived miraculously, he could have been burnt to ash. Since he personally experienced the miracle of surviving the furnace, he had a greater debt of gratitude to G-d. Therefore he describes himself as ash to plead on behalf of the Sodomites that because they had not experienced this Divine salvation G-d could not reasonably expect such a high level of behaviour from them.
There is another dimension to Avraham describing himself as ‘earth’. G-d changed his name to Avraham, meaning ‘father of many nations’ because Avraham felt an affinity with people of every nation and origin. He was able to see the intrinsic holiness within each person, and bring out that goodness, leading to spiritual growth. Therefore he is like the earth, which spreads across national boundaries indiscriminately. Earth is also the environment in which seeds grow, turning the smallest ‘spark’ of life into trees and flowers.
This ‘mineral’ description of Avraham is in sharp contrast to that of Lot’s wife. After fleeing from Sodom, she looked back to see the destruction, and was turned into a pillar of salt (19; 26). The pillar, which is firmly rooted to a geographical location is the opposite of the earth which covers almost all of the globe. Also, salt is singled out in Midrashic literature as the most infertile substance. For example, when the Romans destroyed Jerusalem, they ploughed it with salt to try and prevent it’s resettlement.
Avraham’s name shows his ability to reach out to everybody. Lot’s wife, according to Midrashic literature (e.g. Ramban to 19; 17) was named Irit, which means ‘city dweller’. She was firmly attached to her locale to the point where she was unable to leave, even though it cost her her life. Avraham’s humility made him the international man, Lot’s wife epitomised the Sodomite mentality of ‘what’s mine is mine’ (Ethics of the Fathers 5; 10), which prevented any connection or feeling of fraternity with any visitors or strangers.
Yet these three minerals, earth, ash and salt all come together on the altar in the Temple. The main altar is known as the Mizbeach HaAdama (earthen altar), and their were always ashes on it. In addition, the Torah commands that each sacrifice must be accompanied by a small amount of salt (Leviticus 2: 13). This symbolises the dual nature of the Temple and the Jewish people, as both concerned with the welfare of the world, and personifying humility, while at the same time clinging to the laws, traditions and customs that have been practised through the millennia.
Vayera Summary
Avraham sees three angels in the guise of men and offers them hospitality. They tell him that in one year’s time Sarah will bear him a son. G-d tells Avraham that He plans to destroy Sodom because of their wickedness. Avraham bargains unsuccessfully on their behalf. The angels arrive in Sodom and spend the night with Lot. The inhabitants of the city prove their wickedness and the angels save Lot and his family, as G-d destroys the city. Because Lot’s wife turns to watch the destruction, she becomes a pillar of salt. Lot’s two daughters, fearing that they are the only survivors of global destruction, get their father drunk and have sexual relations with him. They become pregnant and bear sons. One daughter names her son Moav and the other names her son Amon.
Avraham and Sarah migrate to Gerar, and claim that they are brother and sister. Avimelech takes Sarah to become his wife, but is warned by G-d in a dream that he will die if he touches her. Avimelech returns Sarah to Avraham and gives him sheep, cattle and servants. He also offers Avraham his choice of land.
G-d fulfils His promise to Sarah, she becomes pregnant and gives birth to Yitzchak. As Yitzchak grows up, Sarah sees Hagar’s son Yishmael playing games that endanger his life, in order that Yishmael be Avraham’s sole inheritor. She tells Avraham to expel Hagar and Yishmael from the house and, after confirmation from G-d that this is what he must do, Avraham agrees. Hagar wanders into the desert with her son, but their water and supplies are soon used up. She abandons Yishmael but an angel appears to her, and tells her that G-d has heard and answered the prayers of her son, and shows her a spring of water. They remain desert dwellers, and Hagar takes an Egyptian wife for Yishmael.
At that time, Avimelech, and Pichol his minister of defence, come to Avraham and seal a pact with him, that he not harm them or their children or grandchildren. Avraham castigates them about their servants confiscating the wells that he has dug. They swear, and call the place Be’er-Sheva to remember the oath.
G-d tests Avraham by commanding him to offer Yitzchak as a sacrifice. Avraham sets off, accompanied by his son and two servants. After three days they arrive at the designated mountain. Avraham and Yitzchak proceed alone. Yitzchak is bound on the altar, but as Avraham holds the knife over his throat to slaughter him, an angel appears and commands him not to harm the child because G-d now recognises his loyalty. Avraham offers a ram that is caught in thorns in place of his son. The angel appears again and promises that G-d will bless him and his descendants. Avraham calls the place Hashem Yira’eh. They return to the waiting servants, continue together to Be’er-Sheva, and dwell there.
The Parsha concludes with the genealogy of Abraham’s brother Nachor, and mentions the birth of Nachor’s granddaughter Rivka (Rebecca).
Avraham and Sarah migrate to Gerar, and claim that they are brother and sister. Avimelech takes Sarah to become his wife, but is warned by G-d in a dream that he will die if he touches her. Avimelech returns Sarah to Avraham and gives him sheep, cattle and servants. He also offers Avraham his choice of land.
G-d fulfils His promise to Sarah, she becomes pregnant and gives birth to Yitzchak. As Yitzchak grows up, Sarah sees Hagar’s son Yishmael playing games that endanger his life, in order that Yishmael be Avraham’s sole inheritor. She tells Avraham to expel Hagar and Yishmael from the house and, after confirmation from G-d that this is what he must do, Avraham agrees. Hagar wanders into the desert with her son, but their water and supplies are soon used up. She abandons Yishmael but an angel appears to her, and tells her that G-d has heard and answered the prayers of her son, and shows her a spring of water. They remain desert dwellers, and Hagar takes an Egyptian wife for Yishmael.
At that time, Avimelech, and Pichol his minister of defence, come to Avraham and seal a pact with him, that he not harm them or their children or grandchildren. Avraham castigates them about their servants confiscating the wells that he has dug. They swear, and call the place Be’er-Sheva to remember the oath.
G-d tests Avraham by commanding him to offer Yitzchak as a sacrifice. Avraham sets off, accompanied by his son and two servants. After three days they arrive at the designated mountain. Avraham and Yitzchak proceed alone. Yitzchak is bound on the altar, but as Avraham holds the knife over his throat to slaughter him, an angel appears and commands him not to harm the child because G-d now recognises his loyalty. Avraham offers a ram that is caught in thorns in place of his son. The angel appears again and promises that G-d will bless him and his descendants. Avraham calls the place Hashem Yira’eh. They return to the waiting servants, continue together to Be’er-Sheva, and dwell there.
The Parsha concludes with the genealogy of Abraham’s brother Nachor, and mentions the birth of Nachor’s granddaughter Rivka (Rebecca).
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Tosefet Bracha Lech Lecha
I will bless those who bless you, and those who curse you I will curse. (12: 2)
From a simple reading of the words it seems that those who bless Avram will be blessed by G-d earlier, before they bless him, but those who curse him will only be cursed after they have done so. This is the meaning of the words “I will bless (previously) those who bless you, and those who curse you I will curse (afterwards). To be parallel the verse should have said “I will curse those who curse you”. This requires explanation:
The intention of the verse may be that the blessing of a rich man is more valuable than the blessing of a pauper. Conversely the curse of a poor man is worse than the curse of a wealthy person.
Because a rich person is stuffed full of everything good, when he blesses he blesses with plenty of goodness, since just having average wealth is considered ‘normal’ for him, therefore it would not be considered by him to be a blessing. So when he blesses with goodness his blessing is expansive and beyond the average wealth. For a pauper it is the opposite, since his soul is empty from the goodness of life, and he lives on a crust of bread, his concept of blessing is stunted and limited, and he would consider even a meagre existence to be a blessing.
Therefore G-d wanted that those who bless Avraham should be able to conceive of a generous blessing. That is why G-d gave them blessing beforehand, so that when they come to bless Avraham they will bless with plenty. So the verse says “I will bless those who bless you”.
With a curse it is the opposite. Someone who is stuffed full of goodness, when he curses he thinks of someone who has meat and wine, but not of such good quality. However a poor person, since he knows starvation, curses with famine and thirst.
When G-d wants that someone who curses Avraham will themselves be cursed, He wants them first to curse while they still have wealth and only afterwards to be cursed themselves. So the verse says “Those who curse you I will curse”, they will only be cursed after they have cursed Avraham, in order to limit the severity of their curse.
This explains the order of the words in the verse.
From a simple reading of the words it seems that those who bless Avram will be blessed by G-d earlier, before they bless him, but those who curse him will only be cursed after they have done so. This is the meaning of the words “I will bless (previously) those who bless you, and those who curse you I will curse (afterwards). To be parallel the verse should have said “I will curse those who curse you”. This requires explanation:
The intention of the verse may be that the blessing of a rich man is more valuable than the blessing of a pauper. Conversely the curse of a poor man is worse than the curse of a wealthy person.
Because a rich person is stuffed full of everything good, when he blesses he blesses with plenty of goodness, since just having average wealth is considered ‘normal’ for him, therefore it would not be considered by him to be a blessing. So when he blesses with goodness his blessing is expansive and beyond the average wealth. For a pauper it is the opposite, since his soul is empty from the goodness of life, and he lives on a crust of bread, his concept of blessing is stunted and limited, and he would consider even a meagre existence to be a blessing.
Therefore G-d wanted that those who bless Avraham should be able to conceive of a generous blessing. That is why G-d gave them blessing beforehand, so that when they come to bless Avraham they will bless with plenty. So the verse says “I will bless those who bless you”.
With a curse it is the opposite. Someone who is stuffed full of goodness, when he curses he thinks of someone who has meat and wine, but not of such good quality. However a poor person, since he knows starvation, curses with famine and thirst.
When G-d wants that someone who curses Avraham will themselves be cursed, He wants them first to curse while they still have wealth and only afterwards to be cursed themselves. So the verse says “Those who curse you I will curse”, they will only be cursed after they have cursed Avraham, in order to limit the severity of their curse.
This explains the order of the words in the verse.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Parshat Lech Lecha
The Ramban in his commentary on this week’s Torah portion (12; 6 and 10) explains the reason that the Torah goes to such lengths to explain all the details of the lives of the Patriarchs. Based on the Midrash Tanchuma (9) he says that all the actions of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs were precursors of the events that would happen to their descendants in later generations. In a sense their actions and reactions became part of the national psyche to such an extent that they were replayed many times throughout history.
So it is not surprising to find that the war between Avraham and the four kings (chapter 13) hints at future events. The Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 42; 2) states that “The four kings mentioned here hint at the Four Kingdoms (who would later subjugate the Jewish people): the kingdoms of Babylon, Media, Greece and Edom (Rome)”. Ramban (14; 1) explains in more detail: “This whole episode happened to Avraham to indicate that four kingdoms would arise in the world. Eventually, his descendants would overcome them, and the kingdoms would fall into their hands”.
The leader of the four kings was Amrafel, king of Shinar. We know from last week’s Torah reading that Shinar is another word for Babylon (11; 2), so clearly Amrafel symbolises the Babylonian exile, which is also described in Daniel (2; 38) as the most important exile. In Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the statue symbolising the exiles, Babylon is the head, made of gold. What is even more interesting is that Amrafel was a pseudonym of Nimrod’s. Rashi explains the name Nimrod as related to the word Mered, rebellion, because he was the chief instigator of the building of the tower of Babel. However he explains that Amrafel literally means “told him to fall”, which is a reference to Nimrod’s casting Avraham into the furnace. What Rashi doesn’t say is that Nimrod also means “told him to fall”, in Aramaic. So the two traits which best describe Nimrod are his idolatrous rebellion against G-d, and throwing Avraham into the furnace.
The Rabbi’s teach us that the four exiles correspond to the four cardinal sins of idolatry, sexual licentiousness, murder and causeless hatred. The sin which is most associated with the Babylonian exile is idolatry. Daniel (3) relates that Nebuchadnezzar set up a golden statue and commanded all his subjects to bow down to it. Three of his Jewish advisors, Chananiah, Misha’el and Azariah, refused to prostrate themselves to it. Nebuchadnezzar told them “If you do not prostrate yourselves, you will immediately be thrown into a fiery, burning furnace; and who is the god who can save you from my hands?” (verse 15).
This is so similar to the Midrash about Avraham and Nimrod: Nimrod looked the boy [Avraham] over and started his interrogation. He asked him to bow down to fire. Avraham shot back: “How can I bow down to fire, when water will put out the fire?” Nimrod, his anger quickly rising, shouted out, “Bow down to water.” Again, Avraham had an answer: “How can I bow down to water, when the clouds on high contain water?” Nimrod responded: “Bow down to the clouds!” Avraham responded: “What about the wind that disperses the clouds?” And Nimrod: “Bow down to the wind!” Avraham answered still again: “But what of man, who contains wind (the Hebrew word for wind is “ruach” which can also refer to the life force found in living creatures)?” Nimrod had enough of this game and finally said: “Enough of your words, I worship only fire and into the furnace you go. Your God will come, you pray to Him and He will save you!”.
However, there is an important difference between Nimrod and Nebuchadnezzar. Even after Avraham survived in the furnace Nimrod was still prepared to wage war against him. He remained unconvinced of the supremacy of G-d. But Nebuchadnezzar recognised the miracle that he witnessed, “Nebuchadnezzar exclaimed and said, ‘Blessed is the G-d of Shadrach Mashach and Abed-nego (Chananiah, Misha’el and Azariah), Who sent His angel and saved His servants who relied on Him.… for there is no other god able to save in this manner.” (Daniel 3; 28-9).
So it is not surprising to find that the war between Avraham and the four kings (chapter 13) hints at future events. The Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 42; 2) states that “The four kings mentioned here hint at the Four Kingdoms (who would later subjugate the Jewish people): the kingdoms of Babylon, Media, Greece and Edom (Rome)”. Ramban (14; 1) explains in more detail: “This whole episode happened to Avraham to indicate that four kingdoms would arise in the world. Eventually, his descendants would overcome them, and the kingdoms would fall into their hands”.
The leader of the four kings was Amrafel, king of Shinar. We know from last week’s Torah reading that Shinar is another word for Babylon (11; 2), so clearly Amrafel symbolises the Babylonian exile, which is also described in Daniel (2; 38) as the most important exile. In Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the statue symbolising the exiles, Babylon is the head, made of gold. What is even more interesting is that Amrafel was a pseudonym of Nimrod’s. Rashi explains the name Nimrod as related to the word Mered, rebellion, because he was the chief instigator of the building of the tower of Babel. However he explains that Amrafel literally means “told him to fall”, which is a reference to Nimrod’s casting Avraham into the furnace. What Rashi doesn’t say is that Nimrod also means “told him to fall”, in Aramaic. So the two traits which best describe Nimrod are his idolatrous rebellion against G-d, and throwing Avraham into the furnace.
The Rabbi’s teach us that the four exiles correspond to the four cardinal sins of idolatry, sexual licentiousness, murder and causeless hatred. The sin which is most associated with the Babylonian exile is idolatry. Daniel (3) relates that Nebuchadnezzar set up a golden statue and commanded all his subjects to bow down to it. Three of his Jewish advisors, Chananiah, Misha’el and Azariah, refused to prostrate themselves to it. Nebuchadnezzar told them “If you do not prostrate yourselves, you will immediately be thrown into a fiery, burning furnace; and who is the god who can save you from my hands?” (verse 15).
This is so similar to the Midrash about Avraham and Nimrod: Nimrod looked the boy [Avraham] over and started his interrogation. He asked him to bow down to fire. Avraham shot back: “How can I bow down to fire, when water will put out the fire?” Nimrod, his anger quickly rising, shouted out, “Bow down to water.” Again, Avraham had an answer: “How can I bow down to water, when the clouds on high contain water?” Nimrod responded: “Bow down to the clouds!” Avraham responded: “What about the wind that disperses the clouds?” And Nimrod: “Bow down to the wind!” Avraham answered still again: “But what of man, who contains wind (the Hebrew word for wind is “ruach” which can also refer to the life force found in living creatures)?” Nimrod had enough of this game and finally said: “Enough of your words, I worship only fire and into the furnace you go. Your God will come, you pray to Him and He will save you!”.
However, there is an important difference between Nimrod and Nebuchadnezzar. Even after Avraham survived in the furnace Nimrod was still prepared to wage war against him. He remained unconvinced of the supremacy of G-d. But Nebuchadnezzar recognised the miracle that he witnessed, “Nebuchadnezzar exclaimed and said, ‘Blessed is the G-d of Shadrach Mashach and Abed-nego (Chananiah, Misha’el and Azariah), Who sent His angel and saved His servants who relied on Him.… for there is no other god able to save in this manner.” (Daniel 3; 28-9).
Parshat Lech Lecha
“G-d said to Avram, ‘Go for yourself from your land, from your relatives, and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you’ … Avram took his wife Sarai and Lot, his brother’s son, and all their wealth that they had amassed, and the souls they made in Charan; and they left to go to the land of Canaan, and they came to the land of Canaan.” (Genesis 12; 1-5). This was one of Avraham’s ten tests (Ethics of the Fathers 5; 3); because he hearkened to G-d, and left his home, relatives and family, he showed his faith and trust in G-d. Yet this passage is remarkably similar to that immediately preceding. “Terach took his son Avram, and Lot the son of Charan, his grandson, and his daughter-in-law Sarai, the wife of Avram his son, and they departed with them from Ur Kasdim to go to the land of Canaan; they arrived at Charan and they settled there.” The Torah is not merely telling us the travelogue of Terach and his family, but seems to be implying a parallel between Avram and his father. Both set out for Canaan with their families. However, Avram arrived at his destination, whereas Terach gave up en route and settled in Charan. Surely G-d is as concerned with intent as with deed, therefore we should expect that Terach is praised for beginning the process which Avram was to complete.
Yet even from G-d’s instruction to Avram we see that this is not the case. “Go … from your father’s house...”. G-d explains to Avram that he is not to continue in his father’s path, but to make a new beginning, devoid of his past. Similarly, when Joshua gives his farewell address to the nation, he compares Avraham’s actions with those of Terach. “Your forefathers - Terach, the father of Avraham and the father of Nachor - always dwelt beyond the [Euphrates] river and they served other gods.” (24; 2). Avraham, the founding father of the nation, and the first to embrace monotheism, is contrasted with his father Terach who was still an idolater. Thus, rather than considering Terach meritorious for setting out for the Land of Israel, he has become the epitome of an idolater for his failure to reach that goal. In fact, it seems that Terach’s main failing was his inability to cross the river.
Avraham is described (Genesis 14; 13) as ‘Ivri’ (‘Hebrew’ lit. ‘from the other side’) because he came from the other side of the river. It seems that crossing the Euphrates river and entering into Israel is the crucial distinction between Avraham and Terach, between monotheistic service of G-d andidolatrous worship of alien gods. The Midrash highlights the difference in even starker terms: “I shall give to you and your descendants after you the land where you dwell, all the land of Canaan … and I will be for them as G-d” (17; 8). Rabbi Yudan said, if they enter the Land of Israel they accept G-d’s divinity, and if not they do not accept it.” How can such a simple journey make such a difference? Furthermore, Avraham was commanded by G-d to enter Israel; perhaps if Terach had received such an invitation he could have become the founder of our faith in place of Avraham.
The Midrash (Bereishis Rabbi 41) gives another explanation of the word Ivri. “Rabbi Yehuda says that all the world was on one side, and Avraham was on the other.” Avraham was the original iconoclast, he smashed the idols of the entire generation, and was not afraid to show the world that he was different, even if it meant putting his life at risk. He was prepared to live by his beliefs. Therefore G-d instructed him to cross the river, and enter into the Land of Canaan, the geographical distinction symbolising Avraham’s spiritual separation from the rest of the world.
On the other hand, when Terach reached Charan, he gave up the quest for spiritual growth. The Torah tells us that after arriving in Charan, Terach died at the age of 205 years old (11; 32). However, when we calculate his age upon arrival, we find that he didn’t die until long after Avraham had gone to Israel, and become famous as Avraham the Ivri. However the Torah tells us now that he died to write him out of the story. He failed to reach Israel, and cross the river, even though he recognised the importance of Israel and the symbolic meaning in going to the other side. Therefore he no longer has a part to play in the history and spiritual development of the Jewish nation. Furthermore, rather than dedicate himself to the goal of making G-d known in the world, Terach opted for the comfortable life in Charan. Because of this, the Torah not only considers him a failure, but also classes him as wicked. Rashi’s commentary to that verse states, “The verse calls him dead, for the wicked even during their lifetime are called ‘dead’, and the righteous even after their death are called ‘living’”.
Though it may seem that both Terach and Avraham set out on similar goals, only Avraham had the dedication and perseverance to realise that goal, and make G-d’s presence felt in the world. Terach knew what should be done, but failed to achieve it, and chose the easier option. Thus Jewish history leaves him on the sidelines, and brands him an idolater. Though he gave up worshipping idols made of wood or stone, he became subservient to that greater false god of personal comfort and security.
Yet even from G-d’s instruction to Avram we see that this is not the case. “Go … from your father’s house...”. G-d explains to Avram that he is not to continue in his father’s path, but to make a new beginning, devoid of his past. Similarly, when Joshua gives his farewell address to the nation, he compares Avraham’s actions with those of Terach. “Your forefathers - Terach, the father of Avraham and the father of Nachor - always dwelt beyond the [Euphrates] river and they served other gods.” (24; 2). Avraham, the founding father of the nation, and the first to embrace monotheism, is contrasted with his father Terach who was still an idolater. Thus, rather than considering Terach meritorious for setting out for the Land of Israel, he has become the epitome of an idolater for his failure to reach that goal. In fact, it seems that Terach’s main failing was his inability to cross the river.
Avraham is described (Genesis 14; 13) as ‘Ivri’ (‘Hebrew’ lit. ‘from the other side’) because he came from the other side of the river. It seems that crossing the Euphrates river and entering into Israel is the crucial distinction between Avraham and Terach, between monotheistic service of G-d andidolatrous worship of alien gods. The Midrash highlights the difference in even starker terms: “I shall give to you and your descendants after you the land where you dwell, all the land of Canaan … and I will be for them as G-d” (17; 8). Rabbi Yudan said, if they enter the Land of Israel they accept G-d’s divinity, and if not they do not accept it.” How can such a simple journey make such a difference? Furthermore, Avraham was commanded by G-d to enter Israel; perhaps if Terach had received such an invitation he could have become the founder of our faith in place of Avraham.
The Midrash (Bereishis Rabbi 41) gives another explanation of the word Ivri. “Rabbi Yehuda says that all the world was on one side, and Avraham was on the other.” Avraham was the original iconoclast, he smashed the idols of the entire generation, and was not afraid to show the world that he was different, even if it meant putting his life at risk. He was prepared to live by his beliefs. Therefore G-d instructed him to cross the river, and enter into the Land of Canaan, the geographical distinction symbolising Avraham’s spiritual separation from the rest of the world.
On the other hand, when Terach reached Charan, he gave up the quest for spiritual growth. The Torah tells us that after arriving in Charan, Terach died at the age of 205 years old (11; 32). However, when we calculate his age upon arrival, we find that he didn’t die until long after Avraham had gone to Israel, and become famous as Avraham the Ivri. However the Torah tells us now that he died to write him out of the story. He failed to reach Israel, and cross the river, even though he recognised the importance of Israel and the symbolic meaning in going to the other side. Therefore he no longer has a part to play in the history and spiritual development of the Jewish nation. Furthermore, rather than dedicate himself to the goal of making G-d known in the world, Terach opted for the comfortable life in Charan. Because of this, the Torah not only considers him a failure, but also classes him as wicked. Rashi’s commentary to that verse states, “The verse calls him dead, for the wicked even during their lifetime are called ‘dead’, and the righteous even after their death are called ‘living’”.
Though it may seem that both Terach and Avraham set out on similar goals, only Avraham had the dedication and perseverance to realise that goal, and make G-d’s presence felt in the world. Terach knew what should be done, but failed to achieve it, and chose the easier option. Thus Jewish history leaves him on the sidelines, and brands him an idolater. Though he gave up worshipping idols made of wood or stone, he became subservient to that greater false god of personal comfort and security.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Lech Lecha Summary
G-d instructs Avram to leave his home in Charan, and go to the land of Canaan (Israel). G-d promises him that there he will become a great nation. Avram goes to Canaan, taking with him his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, his servants and possessions, and those whom he had converted to belief in monotheism. When they arrive in Canaan they find that there is a famine there and they are forced to leave for Egypt. Realising that Sarai is a very beautiful woman, and that the Egyptians would kill her husband in order to marry her, Avram asks her to pretend to be his sister. Upon hearing of her beauty, Pharaoh abducts Sarai to his palace, but G-d afflicts him and his court with a plague so that he is forced to return her to Avram. He also gives them riches of cattle, silver and gold to ensure that the plague will cease.
They return to Canaan laden with wealth, which leads to an argument between the shepherds of Lot and Avram, about who owns the pasture land. To avoid dispute Avram suggests to Lot that they separate and offers him the pick of the land. Lot chooses the abundantly fertile land of Sodom, despite the fact that the inhabitants of the city are great sinners. After Lot has departed, G-d promises Avram that he will give the land of Israel to his descendants, and shows him its borders.
A world war breaks out, known as the war of the Four Kings against the Five Kings. The king of Sodom is defeated, and his subjects, including Lot, taken hostage. Avram and his servants chase after the victorious four kings and rescue Lot and all the other captives from them. The king of Sodom offers Avram the spoils of war as his reward for saving them, but Avram refuses them in order to show that his wealth comes from G-d, and not through the gifts of men.
G-d shows Avram the future of the Jewish nation in the “Brit Bein HaBetarim” (the Covenant Between the Pieces). He tells him that his descendants will be sent into exile and enslaved for 400 years, but that the fourth generation will return to Israel with great wealth.
Because Sarai is barren, she gives Avram her maidservant Hagar so that he may have children from her. Hagar becomes pregnant, but this leads to her becoming arrogant, and Sarai is very harsh with her. Hagar flees to the desert, but an angel appears to her and tells her to return to Avram and Sarai. Hagar gives birth to her son Ishmael when Avram is 86 years old.
When Avram is ninety nine years old, G-d commands him to circumcise himself, all the male members of his household and all his descendants as a sign of His covenant with them. G-d changes their names to Avraham and Sarah, and promises that, despite their advanced ages, they will have a son. On that same day Avraham fulfils the commandment of circumcision.
They return to Canaan laden with wealth, which leads to an argument between the shepherds of Lot and Avram, about who owns the pasture land. To avoid dispute Avram suggests to Lot that they separate and offers him the pick of the land. Lot chooses the abundantly fertile land of Sodom, despite the fact that the inhabitants of the city are great sinners. After Lot has departed, G-d promises Avram that he will give the land of Israel to his descendants, and shows him its borders.
A world war breaks out, known as the war of the Four Kings against the Five Kings. The king of Sodom is defeated, and his subjects, including Lot, taken hostage. Avram and his servants chase after the victorious four kings and rescue Lot and all the other captives from them. The king of Sodom offers Avram the spoils of war as his reward for saving them, but Avram refuses them in order to show that his wealth comes from G-d, and not through the gifts of men.
G-d shows Avram the future of the Jewish nation in the “Brit Bein HaBetarim” (the Covenant Between the Pieces). He tells him that his descendants will be sent into exile and enslaved for 400 years, but that the fourth generation will return to Israel with great wealth.
Because Sarai is barren, she gives Avram her maidservant Hagar so that he may have children from her. Hagar becomes pregnant, but this leads to her becoming arrogant, and Sarai is very harsh with her. Hagar flees to the desert, but an angel appears to her and tells her to return to Avram and Sarai. Hagar gives birth to her son Ishmael when Avram is 86 years old.
When Avram is ninety nine years old, G-d commands him to circumcise himself, all the male members of his household and all his descendants as a sign of His covenant with them. G-d changes their names to Avraham and Sarah, and promises that, despite their advanced ages, they will have a son. On that same day Avraham fulfils the commandment of circumcision.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Noach Summary
Ten generations after the creation of Adam, and his descendants have corrupted the world with immorality, idolatry and robbery. G-d resolves to bring a flood which will destroy all the earth’s inhabitants except for Noach and his family, the sole righteous people of his era. G-d instructs Noach to build an Ark in which to escape the Flood, and to bring into it two of each non-kosher species of animal, seven pairs of kosher species, and enough food for the animals and people to last for a year. It rains for forty days and nights and the water covers the entire earth. 150 days after the rain stops the water begins to recede. On the 17th day of the 7th month, the Ark comes to rest on Mount Ararat. Noach sends forth a raven to ascertain if the waters have abated. The raven circles the ark and refuses to fly off, so Noach sends out a dove. The dove is unable to find a place to rest, and it returns to the ark. A week later Noach again sends out the dove, which returns the same evening with an olive branch in its beak. After seven more days, Noach again sends forth the dove, which does not return. G-d then tells Noach and his family to leave the Ark.
Noach sacrifices animals to G-d as a thanksgiving offering. G-d vows never again to flood the entire world and gives the rainbow as a sign of this covenant. G-d also permits Noach and his descendants to kill animals for food for the first time. G-d gives Noach and his descendants the Seven Universal Laws; the prohibition of idolatry and blasphemy, categories of forbidden sexual relations, murder, stealing, eating the meat of a living animal, and the institution of a legal system. The world’s climate is established as we know it today.
Noach plants a vineyard and becomes intoxicated on the wine. Ham, Noach’s son, delights in seeing his father drunk and uncovered. Shem and Jafeth however, cover their father without looking at his nakedness, by walking backwards. As a result Noach curses his son Ham that the descendants of Ham’s son Canaan will be the lowest of slaves. The Torah lists the offspring of Noach’s three sons from whom are descended the seventy nations of the world.
The Torah tells of the Tower of Babel, which the people of the world built as an act of rebellion against G-d. As a punishment G-d separates the nations by giving them many different languages and disperses them throughout the world. The Parsha concludes with the genealogy from Noach to Avram.
Noach sacrifices animals to G-d as a thanksgiving offering. G-d vows never again to flood the entire world and gives the rainbow as a sign of this covenant. G-d also permits Noach and his descendants to kill animals for food for the first time. G-d gives Noach and his descendants the Seven Universal Laws; the prohibition of idolatry and blasphemy, categories of forbidden sexual relations, murder, stealing, eating the meat of a living animal, and the institution of a legal system. The world’s climate is established as we know it today.
Noach plants a vineyard and becomes intoxicated on the wine. Ham, Noach’s son, delights in seeing his father drunk and uncovered. Shem and Jafeth however, cover their father without looking at his nakedness, by walking backwards. As a result Noach curses his son Ham that the descendants of Ham’s son Canaan will be the lowest of slaves. The Torah lists the offspring of Noach’s three sons from whom are descended the seventy nations of the world.
The Torah tells of the Tower of Babel, which the people of the world built as an act of rebellion against G-d. As a punishment G-d separates the nations by giving them many different languages and disperses them throughout the world. The Parsha concludes with the genealogy from Noach to Avram.
Parshat Noach
When G-d commanded Noach to build the ark, He specified the dimensions of the ark precisely. It is clear from the size of the ark that there is no way that all the animals and their food could have fitted into it under normal circumstances. Either it was a TARDIS (which is much bigger on the inside than on the outside), or else G-d miraculously enabled all the people and animals to fit inside a space that would not otherwise have been large enough for them. There are two principles which explain why G-d would put Noach to the trouble of building an ark if it would take a miracle to save him and the animals anyway. Firstly a person may rely on miracles, but must do whatever they are able, and only then can they ask G-d for help. Secondly, G-d always tries to minimise obvious miracles to allow for free choice. In addition, in the case of Noach, G-d wanted him to spend 120 years building the ark so that the people of the generation would realise that the flood was imminent, and have the opportunity to repent. This explains why G-d did not save Noach and the animals in a simpler way. The question remains however, that if the ark is only a decoy, to hide the miracle, why does the Torah bother to tell us the dimensions. What difference would it make whether it was 300 cubits long, or only 299?
There is clearly some deeper significance to the dimensions of the ark. Rabbi Yonasan Eibschitz quotes the Arizal who states that these specifications correspond to the Tetragammaton name of G-d (Yud, Heh - Vav, Heh). Rabbi Eibschitz explains that the width of the ark is 50 cubits, which is ten (yud) times five (heh). The height is 30 cubits which is six (vav) times five (heh). This four letter name of G-d refers to His attribute of mercy, so it is fitting that the ark, which was built to ensure the continuation of the human race should be based on this name.
The only other place where the Torah gives us such specific building plans is in the building of the Mishkan, (tabernacle), where each item is described in detail. It would appear therefore that there is some connection between the Mishkan and Noach’s ark. There are many similarities between the ark and the Mishkan. Both were three tiered - the ark had an upper deck for humans, the second for the animals, and the lower deck for the refuse. The tabernacle also had three different levels of sanctity, the Holy of Holies, containing the ark* of the covenant with the stone tablets, the Holy section with the menorah, table and golden altar, and the outer courtyard which had the earthen altar.
The plans for the Mishkan were given to Moshe on Yom Kippur, after his final forty days on Mount Sinai. The forty days obviously corresponds to the forty days and nights that the rain fell at the beginning of the flood. Just as Noach’s ark was bigger on the inside than on the outside, so too the Mishkan, the dimensions of the Holy of Holies were not big enough to contain the ark which was within it. Similarly, no matter how many people came to the Temple there was always room for them, and though they were packed in standing on Yom Kippur, when it came time to bow down everyone had enough space to prostrate themselves on the ground. Finally, Noach spent 120 years constructing the ark, which was the age of Moshe, who was ultimately responsible for the construction of the Mishkan, at the time of his death.
However, conceptually the ark and the Mishkan appear to be opposites. The ark saved those who were within from destruction outside, whereas the Mishkan destroyed those who entered, but sustained the entire outside world. Noach and his family were saved by remaining in the ark, so that Noach’s ark was the point of interaction with G-d, but that the Divine Presence was not discernible outside the ark. In contrast, the Mishkan was the point of interaction with G-d, but through the Mishkan G-d’s Presence was felt throughout the world. The most intense point of interaction was the Holy of Holies, where nobody was permitted to enter, with the exception of the High Priest on one day of the year.
The first High Priest in the Mishkan was Aharon, who is associated with the kabbalistic concept of Chen. Translated as ‘grace’ this is a difficult concept to explain, but is typified by the Mishna which describes Aharon as one who ‘loves peace and pursues peace, loves people and brings them closer to Torah’ (Pirkei Avot 1: 8). Aharon was constantly reaching out to others, and actively pursuing peace. Thus he was the most appropriate person to dwell within the confines of the Mishkan, which was ultimately the place of G-d’s Presence reaching out to the world.
Noach is also associated with Chen, as the last verse in last week’s Torah reading states “And Noach found Chen in G-d’s eyes”. However Noach is the opposite of reaching out to others, his main fault was that he did not pray for the other people of his generation. Therefore his name is the letters of the word Chen inverted. So too his ark was closed off from the rest of the world, and no one else could enjoy the interaction with the Divine.
*The Hebrew word for Noach’s ark is teva but the word for the ark of the covenant is aron, so we cannot cite this as another similarity.
There is clearly some deeper significance to the dimensions of the ark. Rabbi Yonasan Eibschitz quotes the Arizal who states that these specifications correspond to the Tetragammaton name of G-d (Yud, Heh - Vav, Heh). Rabbi Eibschitz explains that the width of the ark is 50 cubits, which is ten (yud) times five (heh). The height is 30 cubits which is six (vav) times five (heh). This four letter name of G-d refers to His attribute of mercy, so it is fitting that the ark, which was built to ensure the continuation of the human race should be based on this name.
The only other place where the Torah gives us such specific building plans is in the building of the Mishkan, (tabernacle), where each item is described in detail. It would appear therefore that there is some connection between the Mishkan and Noach’s ark. There are many similarities between the ark and the Mishkan. Both were three tiered - the ark had an upper deck for humans, the second for the animals, and the lower deck for the refuse. The tabernacle also had three different levels of sanctity, the Holy of Holies, containing the ark* of the covenant with the stone tablets, the Holy section with the menorah, table and golden altar, and the outer courtyard which had the earthen altar.
The plans for the Mishkan were given to Moshe on Yom Kippur, after his final forty days on Mount Sinai. The forty days obviously corresponds to the forty days and nights that the rain fell at the beginning of the flood. Just as Noach’s ark was bigger on the inside than on the outside, so too the Mishkan, the dimensions of the Holy of Holies were not big enough to contain the ark which was within it. Similarly, no matter how many people came to the Temple there was always room for them, and though they were packed in standing on Yom Kippur, when it came time to bow down everyone had enough space to prostrate themselves on the ground. Finally, Noach spent 120 years constructing the ark, which was the age of Moshe, who was ultimately responsible for the construction of the Mishkan, at the time of his death.
However, conceptually the ark and the Mishkan appear to be opposites. The ark saved those who were within from destruction outside, whereas the Mishkan destroyed those who entered, but sustained the entire outside world. Noach and his family were saved by remaining in the ark, so that Noach’s ark was the point of interaction with G-d, but that the Divine Presence was not discernible outside the ark. In contrast, the Mishkan was the point of interaction with G-d, but through the Mishkan G-d’s Presence was felt throughout the world. The most intense point of interaction was the Holy of Holies, where nobody was permitted to enter, with the exception of the High Priest on one day of the year.
The first High Priest in the Mishkan was Aharon, who is associated with the kabbalistic concept of Chen. Translated as ‘grace’ this is a difficult concept to explain, but is typified by the Mishna which describes Aharon as one who ‘loves peace and pursues peace, loves people and brings them closer to Torah’ (Pirkei Avot 1: 8). Aharon was constantly reaching out to others, and actively pursuing peace. Thus he was the most appropriate person to dwell within the confines of the Mishkan, which was ultimately the place of G-d’s Presence reaching out to the world.
Noach is also associated with Chen, as the last verse in last week’s Torah reading states “And Noach found Chen in G-d’s eyes”. However Noach is the opposite of reaching out to others, his main fault was that he did not pray for the other people of his generation. Therefore his name is the letters of the word Chen inverted. So too his ark was closed off from the rest of the world, and no one else could enjoy the interaction with the Divine.
*The Hebrew word for Noach’s ark is teva but the word for the ark of the covenant is aron, so we cannot cite this as another similarity.
Parshat Noach
“Noach, the man of the earth...” (Genesis 9; 20). Ramban explains that the description “man of ...” denotes a complete dedication to that thing, and a separation from anything else. As soon as he left the Ark Noach immediately set about sowing and planting the desolate world that he found. He devoted himself entirely to the earth. Similarly, Moshe was described as “man of G-d” (Deuteronomy 33; 1), signifying his complete devotion and total dedication to G-d.
In the very beginning of our portion Noach is also described as a man, but a ‘righteous man’ (6; 9). According to the Ramban’s definition this means that he dedicated himself to righteousness, and separated himself from anything else. Noach transforms from the epitome of righteousness, to a farmer, concerned not with righteousness, but with the earth. In the same verse that Noach is described as being a ‘man of the earth’ the Torah also shows us his descent from his level of sanctity. “vayachel Noach”, “Noach debased himself” (9; 20).
One could mistakenly assume that it was Noach’s concern with the earth that caused him to lose his righteousness. We assume that someone designated by G-d as ‘righteous’ must spend their time removed from worldly pursuits, engaging with the spiritual. Yet from his birth Noach had been recognised as someone able to work the earth, and transform it like nobody before him. He had a special relationship with the earth. Since the time of Cain nobody had been able to till the ground, yet during Noach’s lifetime the curse of the ground disappeared. Noach is also credited with the invention of the plough allowing people once again to work the ground (Midrash Tanchuma Bereishis 11). In fact Noach was named for his relationship with the earth, “And he called his name Noach saying, ‘This one will bring us rest from our work and from the toil of our hands, from the ground which G-d has cursed’.” Lamech, Noach’s father, recognised his potential to work and develop the ground, and remove its curse.
His relationship with the ground was actually the source of Noach’s righteousness, and in that merit he was chosen to survive the flood. Rather than being removed from the physical world, Noach dedicated himself to working the soil. However, his sole intention in so doing was to bring himself closer to G-d. Therefore after the flood, Noach simply continued with that work which he knew best, tilling the soil, and sowing and planting. He even found support for his actions in G-d’s commands to him. Since (according to Midrashim) G-d had told Noach to take saplings and seeds with him into the Ark, he concluded that he should plant them when he left the Ark a year later.
Rashi explains that Noach’s sin was not in planting, but in what he chose to plant first. Of all the species which he had with him in the Ark, he began by planting grapevines, with the disastrous results mentioned in the continuation of the story. This shows the importance of beginnings. Noach lost his exalted status only because he made the wrong beginning when he emerged from the Ark. Yet Judaism sees nothing intrinsically wrong with wine and grapes - at every Jewish ceremony we mark the transition from holy to mundane or from mundane to holy, with a blessing over wine. Thus we begin Shabbat with Kiddush on wine, and end it with Havdalah on wine. We use wine at a wedding to signify the higher spiritual level of a couple than two individuals, and we use wine at a circumcision to show the higher sanctity of a child who has entered the covenant with G-d. But before Noach became drunk the Torah already saw that he was no longer ‘a righteous man’, but ‘a man of the earth’.
Noach refused to leave the Ark without a Divine command to do so (8; 15-17). “Every living being that is with you … take them out.” In the Torah the Hebrew word ‘take them out’ (hotzei) is read as ‘order them out’ (ha’ytzei), meaning that if the animals refused to leave the Ark voluntarily, Noach and his family should forcibly remove them. Perhaps this reluctance to leave the Ark was also felt by Noach. Therefore G-d subtly told him that there was not an option to remain in the Ark. Why would Noach not want to leave the Ark? Surely a whole year separated from his beloved earth would have been enough for him?
“G-d said to Noach; ‘The end of all flesh has come before Me … and behold I am about to destroy them with the earth (es ha’aretz)’” (6; 13). Rashi explains that not only the people and animals, but even the upper three tefachim of earth were destroyed during the flood. Three tefachim is the depth of a plough, and we can only surmise that the corruption of humanity had even penetrated the earth as they were working it. When Noach emerged from the Ark he realised that because of his invention of the plough, he had indirectly caused the earth to be even more desolate than it should have been. Had he not invented the plough, people would have been unable to work the ground, and it would have been spared destruction. His beloved earth was now ruined because of him.
Perhaps this is why Noach was reluctant to leave the Ark, and why he began the new world by planting vines and becoming drunk. His greatest achievements, the plough and removing the curse from the ground seemed to him to have caused only destruction. Despite receiving Divine sanction for his invention, in his depression he failed to realise their value. He reasoned that it would be better for the world if he were drunk, and unable to contribute any more destructive inventions to the world. This depression caused him to temporarily lose sight of G-d, and become only ‘a man of the earth’.
In the very beginning of our portion Noach is also described as a man, but a ‘righteous man’ (6; 9). According to the Ramban’s definition this means that he dedicated himself to righteousness, and separated himself from anything else. Noach transforms from the epitome of righteousness, to a farmer, concerned not with righteousness, but with the earth. In the same verse that Noach is described as being a ‘man of the earth’ the Torah also shows us his descent from his level of sanctity. “vayachel Noach”, “Noach debased himself” (9; 20).
One could mistakenly assume that it was Noach’s concern with the earth that caused him to lose his righteousness. We assume that someone designated by G-d as ‘righteous’ must spend their time removed from worldly pursuits, engaging with the spiritual. Yet from his birth Noach had been recognised as someone able to work the earth, and transform it like nobody before him. He had a special relationship with the earth. Since the time of Cain nobody had been able to till the ground, yet during Noach’s lifetime the curse of the ground disappeared. Noach is also credited with the invention of the plough allowing people once again to work the ground (Midrash Tanchuma Bereishis 11). In fact Noach was named for his relationship with the earth, “And he called his name Noach saying, ‘This one will bring us rest from our work and from the toil of our hands, from the ground which G-d has cursed’.” Lamech, Noach’s father, recognised his potential to work and develop the ground, and remove its curse.
His relationship with the ground was actually the source of Noach’s righteousness, and in that merit he was chosen to survive the flood. Rather than being removed from the physical world, Noach dedicated himself to working the soil. However, his sole intention in so doing was to bring himself closer to G-d. Therefore after the flood, Noach simply continued with that work which he knew best, tilling the soil, and sowing and planting. He even found support for his actions in G-d’s commands to him. Since (according to Midrashim) G-d had told Noach to take saplings and seeds with him into the Ark, he concluded that he should plant them when he left the Ark a year later.
Rashi explains that Noach’s sin was not in planting, but in what he chose to plant first. Of all the species which he had with him in the Ark, he began by planting grapevines, with the disastrous results mentioned in the continuation of the story. This shows the importance of beginnings. Noach lost his exalted status only because he made the wrong beginning when he emerged from the Ark. Yet Judaism sees nothing intrinsically wrong with wine and grapes - at every Jewish ceremony we mark the transition from holy to mundane or from mundane to holy, with a blessing over wine. Thus we begin Shabbat with Kiddush on wine, and end it with Havdalah on wine. We use wine at a wedding to signify the higher spiritual level of a couple than two individuals, and we use wine at a circumcision to show the higher sanctity of a child who has entered the covenant with G-d. But before Noach became drunk the Torah already saw that he was no longer ‘a righteous man’, but ‘a man of the earth’.
Noach refused to leave the Ark without a Divine command to do so (8; 15-17). “Every living being that is with you … take them out.” In the Torah the Hebrew word ‘take them out’ (hotzei) is read as ‘order them out’ (ha’ytzei), meaning that if the animals refused to leave the Ark voluntarily, Noach and his family should forcibly remove them. Perhaps this reluctance to leave the Ark was also felt by Noach. Therefore G-d subtly told him that there was not an option to remain in the Ark. Why would Noach not want to leave the Ark? Surely a whole year separated from his beloved earth would have been enough for him?
“G-d said to Noach; ‘The end of all flesh has come before Me … and behold I am about to destroy them with the earth (es ha’aretz)’” (6; 13). Rashi explains that not only the people and animals, but even the upper three tefachim of earth were destroyed during the flood. Three tefachim is the depth of a plough, and we can only surmise that the corruption of humanity had even penetrated the earth as they were working it. When Noach emerged from the Ark he realised that because of his invention of the plough, he had indirectly caused the earth to be even more desolate than it should have been. Had he not invented the plough, people would have been unable to work the ground, and it would have been spared destruction. His beloved earth was now ruined because of him.
Perhaps this is why Noach was reluctant to leave the Ark, and why he began the new world by planting vines and becoming drunk. His greatest achievements, the plough and removing the curse from the ground seemed to him to have caused only destruction. Despite receiving Divine sanction for his invention, in his depression he failed to realise their value. He reasoned that it would be better for the world if he were drunk, and unable to contribute any more destructive inventions to the world. This depression caused him to temporarily lose sight of G-d, and become only ‘a man of the earth’.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Tosefet Bracha - Bereishit 2
In the beginning (1: 1)
There are many hints in this first verse. Look at Rashi, who brings some of the allusions. We can also find a hint to what we explained in the previous piece. We have a tradition in the Talmud that the world will exist for 6000 years, and then be destroyed for 1000 years. We explained above that this is a 7000 year cycle which repeats over and over again.
We can find a hint to this in the first verse. The Hebrew word for 1000 is eleph, and the word for destroyed is shamam. In the first verse there are seven words – Bereishit Bara Elokim Et Ha-shamayim v-Et Ha-Aretz. Each of the words contains the letter aleph (related to the word for 1000) except for the word Ha-Shamayim The root of the word Shamayim is the word shamam (as we find in Iyov 32: 43 “Utterly destroyed without any life”). The six words with the letter aleph allude to the six thousand (eleph) years, and the seventh word (Shamayim) alludes to the destruction (Shamam), which is the only world without the letter aleph.
There are many hints in this first verse. Look at Rashi, who brings some of the allusions. We can also find a hint to what we explained in the previous piece. We have a tradition in the Talmud that the world will exist for 6000 years, and then be destroyed for 1000 years. We explained above that this is a 7000 year cycle which repeats over and over again.
We can find a hint to this in the first verse. The Hebrew word for 1000 is eleph, and the word for destroyed is shamam. In the first verse there are seven words – Bereishit Bara Elokim Et Ha-shamayim v-Et Ha-Aretz. Each of the words contains the letter aleph (related to the word for 1000) except for the word Ha-Shamayim The root of the word Shamayim is the word shamam (as we find in Iyov 32: 43 “Utterly destroyed without any life”). The six words with the letter aleph allude to the six thousand (eleph) years, and the seventh word (Shamayim) alludes to the destruction (Shamam), which is the only world without the letter aleph.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Tosefet Bracha - Bereishit
“In the beginning” (1: 1)
(an exploration of the idea of when the world was created)
It states in masechet Sanhedrin (97a): The world will be for 6000 years and 1000 it will be destroyed.
Rashi explains that apart from the 6000 years there will be another 1000 years of destruction and desolation.
The Talmud there explains that the 1000 years of desolation corresponds to the shmita year (as explained in parshat Behar), and thus the world has a shmita of 1000 years every 7000 years.
The relationship between the years of the world and the shmita year can be explained because the reason for shmita every seven years corresponds to G-d resting on the seventh day of creation (which was Shabbat). Therefore the shmita of the 7000th year primarily relates to resting from Creation. It is known that a day of G-d is 1000 years, as the verse states “For a thousand years in Your eyes is like from yesterday to today” (Tehillim 90: 4). Therefore the worlds has a shmita every 7000th year.
However the entire concept of the shmita of the 7000th year, based on the wording “and one thousand destroyed” means that it is part of a long chain without end, from the time of the first creation. Since then this cycle has repeated itself every 6000 years, with 1000 years of destruction following. It as then rebuilt every time for another 6000 years. This repeated over and over again.
It is almost certain that this is the meaning of the midrash rabba on this parsha on the verse “And it was evening and it was morning” which says that G-d creates worlds and destroys them, creates worlds and destroys them.
This also fits with the words of the Talmud that we brought above, that the world will last for 6000 years then be destroyed for 1000. This means that after every 6000 years there is 1000 of destruction before the world is renewed. Only G-d knows which cycle of 7000 years we are in at the moment.
This is clear from the words ‘destroyed for 1000’ which implies a cycle as we have said. If there would only be 6000 years to the world altogether followed by destruction it would not make sense to talk of 1000 years of destruction since after the 6000 the destruction would be forever. But according to what we have said it makes sense, because after the destruction there will be a new beginning.
There is another reason why it is difficult to understand that after 6000 years there will be total destruction forever, because we are now towards the end of the 5000th year, with only a couple of hundred years until that destruction. Even if the redemption were to occur today, does it make sense that the reward for all the thousands of years of exile would be sandwiched into such a small time of only a couple of hundred years? About this the Talmud says ‘Do you think G-d brings judgement without justice?’ (Brachot 5b).
Furthermore, just before the redemption all settlement of the world will cease. As the Talmud says (Avodah Zarah 9b) ‘if a person were to offer to sell you a field worth 1000 dinars for only a single dinar don’t accept the offer’.
Also, based on the analogy between the seven year shmita cycle and the years of creation it must be that the destruction of the 7000th year cannot be a permanent destruction. The shmita year only lasts for one year, and after that year everything returns to the way it was, so it must be also that the years of creation with the ‘shmita’ of the 7000th year is only temporary, and afterwards everything will return to its normal way.
Perhaps the reason for the destruction of the world from time to time is congruous with the way things work in the world. When someone builds new houses in a place where old houses stood earlier, the entire foundations of the original buildings must be completely destroyed and the area cleared and only then can the foundations be laid for the new buildings. So too with the world, after a period of 6000 years all the building and foundation of the past era must be destroyed so that new building can begin for another 6000 years afterwards.
This is the way that G-d fixed the nature of the world. When someone plants seeds in the earth, they must first be destroyed and only afterwards can they begin to sprout. Similarly, a new world can begin to sprout after the destruction and decay of the world and everything that is within it.
Based on this we can explain the Aggada in Talmud Shabbat (152b): If someone has jealousy his bones will rot (after his death), and anyone who doesn’t have jealousy, his bones will not rot. This is based on the words of a verse. Then the Talmud challenges: Doesn’t the verse states, “You shall return to dust” (and Rashi explains that the decree against Adam the first man also applies to every person since). The Talmud explains that this only applies just before the resurrection of the dead. In other words, the rot that was decreed for someone who doesn’t have jealousy will only be a moment before the resurrection. It doesn’t explain the purpose of the rotting, or define the time which is ‘just before the resurrection of the dead’.
But the explanation is as follows, based on what we said above: In order to have a new life in the resurrection of the dead, it is necessary that the former body be destroyed and rots into dust. If someone is jealous this rotting takes place as part of the natural process. However, someone who does not have jealousy, his bones remain whole and ready until a moment before the resurrection. At that time it is necessary for them to rot so that they can come back to the new life that will come, to fulfil the decree of “You shall return to dust”.
We will see the purpose of the destruction of the world in the Aggada that we will bring shortly. For those thousand years while G-d is renewing the world, He will make wings for the righteous and they will fly over the surface of the water. However we understand the Aggada, it certainly seems that the world will be completely covered with water.
With what we have explained we can also understand the verses in parshat Va’etchanan (Devarim 7) where it says about G-d that he keeps the covenant and the kindness for a thousand generations. Also in Tehillim (105: 8) it states “He commanded His word for a thousand generations”. As we know, a generation is seventy years, as the verse states “the days of his life in them are seventy years” (ibid. 90: 10). See also at Talmud Yevamot (50a). A thousand generations is therefore 70,000 years. G-d is guaranteeing the world’s existence for that length of time. So the number of 6000 years for the world must be only for one period of the world’s existence, which will repeat until that total number of years.
With this we can understand how scientists have found trees and bones of animals that clearly lived tens of thousands of years ago (look at ‘Oh Hachaim’ by the author of Tiferet Yisrael at the end of Nezikin). This is no contradiction to our counting of years, since they are just remnants of earlier periods of the world’s existence which somehow survived the destruction and lasted until now. Just as the Talmud (Nida 61a) says that Og King of Bashan remained (and survived) from the flood, or that three boiling pools of water survived from the time of the flood (Sanhedrin 108a).
(an exploration of the idea of when the world was created)
It states in masechet Sanhedrin (97a): The world will be for 6000 years and 1000 it will be destroyed.
Rashi explains that apart from the 6000 years there will be another 1000 years of destruction and desolation.
The Talmud there explains that the 1000 years of desolation corresponds to the shmita year (as explained in parshat Behar), and thus the world has a shmita of 1000 years every 7000 years.
The relationship between the years of the world and the shmita year can be explained because the reason for shmita every seven years corresponds to G-d resting on the seventh day of creation (which was Shabbat). Therefore the shmita of the 7000th year primarily relates to resting from Creation. It is known that a day of G-d is 1000 years, as the verse states “For a thousand years in Your eyes is like from yesterday to today” (Tehillim 90: 4). Therefore the worlds has a shmita every 7000th year.
However the entire concept of the shmita of the 7000th year, based on the wording “and one thousand destroyed” means that it is part of a long chain without end, from the time of the first creation. Since then this cycle has repeated itself every 6000 years, with 1000 years of destruction following. It as then rebuilt every time for another 6000 years. This repeated over and over again.
It is almost certain that this is the meaning of the midrash rabba on this parsha on the verse “And it was evening and it was morning” which says that G-d creates worlds and destroys them, creates worlds and destroys them.
This also fits with the words of the Talmud that we brought above, that the world will last for 6000 years then be destroyed for 1000. This means that after every 6000 years there is 1000 of destruction before the world is renewed. Only G-d knows which cycle of 7000 years we are in at the moment.
This is clear from the words ‘destroyed for 1000’ which implies a cycle as we have said. If there would only be 6000 years to the world altogether followed by destruction it would not make sense to talk of 1000 years of destruction since after the 6000 the destruction would be forever. But according to what we have said it makes sense, because after the destruction there will be a new beginning.
There is another reason why it is difficult to understand that after 6000 years there will be total destruction forever, because we are now towards the end of the 5000th year, with only a couple of hundred years until that destruction. Even if the redemption were to occur today, does it make sense that the reward for all the thousands of years of exile would be sandwiched into such a small time of only a couple of hundred years? About this the Talmud says ‘Do you think G-d brings judgement without justice?’ (Brachot 5b).
Furthermore, just before the redemption all settlement of the world will cease. As the Talmud says (Avodah Zarah 9b) ‘if a person were to offer to sell you a field worth 1000 dinars for only a single dinar don’t accept the offer’.
Also, based on the analogy between the seven year shmita cycle and the years of creation it must be that the destruction of the 7000th year cannot be a permanent destruction. The shmita year only lasts for one year, and after that year everything returns to the way it was, so it must be also that the years of creation with the ‘shmita’ of the 7000th year is only temporary, and afterwards everything will return to its normal way.
Perhaps the reason for the destruction of the world from time to time is congruous with the way things work in the world. When someone builds new houses in a place where old houses stood earlier, the entire foundations of the original buildings must be completely destroyed and the area cleared and only then can the foundations be laid for the new buildings. So too with the world, after a period of 6000 years all the building and foundation of the past era must be destroyed so that new building can begin for another 6000 years afterwards.
This is the way that G-d fixed the nature of the world. When someone plants seeds in the earth, they must first be destroyed and only afterwards can they begin to sprout. Similarly, a new world can begin to sprout after the destruction and decay of the world and everything that is within it.
Based on this we can explain the Aggada in Talmud Shabbat (152b): If someone has jealousy his bones will rot (after his death), and anyone who doesn’t have jealousy, his bones will not rot. This is based on the words of a verse. Then the Talmud challenges: Doesn’t the verse states, “You shall return to dust” (and Rashi explains that the decree against Adam the first man also applies to every person since). The Talmud explains that this only applies just before the resurrection of the dead. In other words, the rot that was decreed for someone who doesn’t have jealousy will only be a moment before the resurrection. It doesn’t explain the purpose of the rotting, or define the time which is ‘just before the resurrection of the dead’.
But the explanation is as follows, based on what we said above: In order to have a new life in the resurrection of the dead, it is necessary that the former body be destroyed and rots into dust. If someone is jealous this rotting takes place as part of the natural process. However, someone who does not have jealousy, his bones remain whole and ready until a moment before the resurrection. At that time it is necessary for them to rot so that they can come back to the new life that will come, to fulfil the decree of “You shall return to dust”.
We will see the purpose of the destruction of the world in the Aggada that we will bring shortly. For those thousand years while G-d is renewing the world, He will make wings for the righteous and they will fly over the surface of the water. However we understand the Aggada, it certainly seems that the world will be completely covered with water.
With what we have explained we can also understand the verses in parshat Va’etchanan (Devarim 7) where it says about G-d that he keeps the covenant and the kindness for a thousand generations. Also in Tehillim (105: 8) it states “He commanded His word for a thousand generations”. As we know, a generation is seventy years, as the verse states “the days of his life in them are seventy years” (ibid. 90: 10). See also at Talmud Yevamot (50a). A thousand generations is therefore 70,000 years. G-d is guaranteeing the world’s existence for that length of time. So the number of 6000 years for the world must be only for one period of the world’s existence, which will repeat until that total number of years.
With this we can understand how scientists have found trees and bones of animals that clearly lived tens of thousands of years ago (look at ‘Oh Hachaim’ by the author of Tiferet Yisrael at the end of Nezikin). This is no contradiction to our counting of years, since they are just remnants of earlier periods of the world’s existence which somehow survived the destruction and lasted until now. Just as the Talmud (Nida 61a) says that Og King of Bashan remained (and survived) from the flood, or that three boiling pools of water survived from the time of the flood (Sanhedrin 108a).
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Bereishis Summary
SUMMARY OF THE TORAH PORTION
On the first day of creation, G-d makes light. On the second day a firmament to separate between the upper and lower waters. On the third day dry land and vegetation appear. On the fourth day the sun, moon and other celestial bodies. On the fifth day G-d creates fish and birds. On the sixth day animals and mankind. And on the seventh day G-d rests from creating.
G-d places Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. He commands them to work and guard the Garden and to eat of all its fruit except for the fruit of the trees of Knowledge of Good and Evil, and of Life. Adam gives names to all the animals. The serpent entices Eve to eat from the forbidden fruit and she also persuades Adam to eat it. G-d punishes the serpent, and the ground, and banishes Adam and Eve from the Garden.
Adam and Eve have two sons, Cain and Abel. Cain becomes a farmer and Abel a shepherd. They both bring offerings to G-d, but G-d only turns to Abel’s offering. In a fit of jealousy Cain slays his brother, and is then punished by G-d and banished to wander the earth. Cain’s descendants are listed in the Torah. Adam and Eve have another son, Seth. His descendants and their life spans are listed, culminating in Noach. When Noach is 500 years old he has three sons, Shem, Cham and Yaphet.
As mankind increases upon the earth they rebel against G-d and become involved in adultery. G-d says that from this point on human lives will be limited to 120 years. G-d decides to blot out all the inhabitants from the earth, except for Noach who finds favour in His eyes.
On the first day of creation, G-d makes light. On the second day a firmament to separate between the upper and lower waters. On the third day dry land and vegetation appear. On the fourth day the sun, moon and other celestial bodies. On the fifth day G-d creates fish and birds. On the sixth day animals and mankind. And on the seventh day G-d rests from creating.
G-d places Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. He commands them to work and guard the Garden and to eat of all its fruit except for the fruit of the trees of Knowledge of Good and Evil, and of Life. Adam gives names to all the animals. The serpent entices Eve to eat from the forbidden fruit and she also persuades Adam to eat it. G-d punishes the serpent, and the ground, and banishes Adam and Eve from the Garden.
Adam and Eve have two sons, Cain and Abel. Cain becomes a farmer and Abel a shepherd. They both bring offerings to G-d, but G-d only turns to Abel’s offering. In a fit of jealousy Cain slays his brother, and is then punished by G-d and banished to wander the earth. Cain’s descendants are listed in the Torah. Adam and Eve have another son, Seth. His descendants and their life spans are listed, culminating in Noach. When Noach is 500 years old he has three sons, Shem, Cham and Yaphet.
As mankind increases upon the earth they rebel against G-d and become involved in adultery. G-d says that from this point on human lives will be limited to 120 years. G-d decides to blot out all the inhabitants from the earth, except for Noach who finds favour in His eyes.
Parshas Bereishis II
In story of Cain and Abel we tend view Cain as simply a big bully, and Abel as the righteous innocent. However a closer look at the text shows a different aspect to each of them. “It came to pass in the process of time that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering to the L-rd. And Abel also brought from the firstlings of his flock...” (Genesis IV; 3). It was Cain who first thought to bring a sacrifice. It was not as generous as his brother’s, which is why G-d turned to Abel’s offering and not Cain’s. However, the Torah gives the impression that had Cain not brought his offering, Abel would not have taken the initiative. Furthermore, though nowadays we find it hard to understand the purpose or benefit of sacrifices, at that time it was the most appropriate way to strengthen a relationship with G-d. Cain was searching for a path to spiritual growth. Additionally. the Ramban writes that both Cain and Abel understood the deep inner meanings and secrets of the sacrifices. Certainly both of them were on a tremendously high spiritual level, to such a degree that G-d spoke directly to Cain, both before and after he killed his brother.
“And it was when they were in the field, that Cain said to Abel his brother...” (v. 8). The Torah fails to tell us what Cain said to his brother before killing him. Targum Yonasan (a translation/ commentary on the Torah from the Mishnaic period) fills in the missing dialogue: “Cain answered and said to Abel, ‘There is no judgement, and there is no judge. There is no World-to-Come, and there is no one to give reward to the righteous, nor to punish the wicked’.” How could Cain have gone from such a high level, where he was able to fathom the mysteries of creation and of the sacrifices, and spoke to G-d as a prophet, to denying G-d’s very existence, and Divine purpose to the world? This seems to contradict the Talmudic dictum (Shabbat 105b) that the Evil Inclination works gradually. “Today it says ‘do this’, tomorrow ‘do that’, until eventually it persuades a person to commit idolatry”. Unfortunately we can see how true this is. Yet this is a process which takes time. How could Cain fall into the trap of atheism in an instant?
Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz explains based on this text the dangers of depression and anger. When a person is thinking rationally, the Evil Inclination can only lead them one step at a time. It knows that the suggestion of idolatry would be rejected out of hand. However, when a person is in a crisis situation they react instinctively, not logically. Then the Inclination can attack them and drive them to extreme behaviour. The Torah tells us that after G-d turned to Abel’s offering that “Cain was very angry and his countenance fell”. This anger and depression caused him to lose control of his rational faculties and behave in a way which would otherwise have been totally out of character for him.
This is what the Talmud (Pesachim 66b) means when it tell us that anyone who gets angry is as if they have worshipped idols. This is not merely a metaphor, showing the negativity of anger, but the reality. Once a person becomes consumed with anger there is no limit to the spiritual depths to which they can fall, even to the extent of idolatry.
Similarly, the Rabbis tell us that depression is one of the most destructive traits. King Solomon tells us in Song of Songs that there is a time to rejoice and a time to be sad, however, there is never a time when depression is the appropriate response. We are to express sadness or happiness based on the events as we perceive them in this world, but we know that G-d is the True Judge, and that in the World of Truth everything is ultimately for the best. This is why the opening of the funeral service is Tziduk HaDin, proclaiming the justness of G-d, and the recognition that this tragedy is part of the greater plan. Depression causes a person to deny the greater good, and fail to see any purpose in life.
Certainly we all have ‘ups’ and ‘downs’ from time to time, and once in an emotional slump it is often difficult to get out of it. However we must always know that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Because Cain failed to realise that there was a larger picture, though he spoke to G-d directly he thought that there was no justice in the world, and through his depression came to fratricide. Had he been able to view the situation objectively he would have understood that G-d was teaching him how to come to a closer relationship with the Divine, and instructing him on the path to spiritual perfection.
“And it was when they were in the field, that Cain said to Abel his brother...” (v. 8). The Torah fails to tell us what Cain said to his brother before killing him. Targum Yonasan (a translation/ commentary on the Torah from the Mishnaic period) fills in the missing dialogue: “Cain answered and said to Abel, ‘There is no judgement, and there is no judge. There is no World-to-Come, and there is no one to give reward to the righteous, nor to punish the wicked’.” How could Cain have gone from such a high level, where he was able to fathom the mysteries of creation and of the sacrifices, and spoke to G-d as a prophet, to denying G-d’s very existence, and Divine purpose to the world? This seems to contradict the Talmudic dictum (Shabbat 105b) that the Evil Inclination works gradually. “Today it says ‘do this’, tomorrow ‘do that’, until eventually it persuades a person to commit idolatry”. Unfortunately we can see how true this is. Yet this is a process which takes time. How could Cain fall into the trap of atheism in an instant?
Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz explains based on this text the dangers of depression and anger. When a person is thinking rationally, the Evil Inclination can only lead them one step at a time. It knows that the suggestion of idolatry would be rejected out of hand. However, when a person is in a crisis situation they react instinctively, not logically. Then the Inclination can attack them and drive them to extreme behaviour. The Torah tells us that after G-d turned to Abel’s offering that “Cain was very angry and his countenance fell”. This anger and depression caused him to lose control of his rational faculties and behave in a way which would otherwise have been totally out of character for him.
This is what the Talmud (Pesachim 66b) means when it tell us that anyone who gets angry is as if they have worshipped idols. This is not merely a metaphor, showing the negativity of anger, but the reality. Once a person becomes consumed with anger there is no limit to the spiritual depths to which they can fall, even to the extent of idolatry.
Similarly, the Rabbis tell us that depression is one of the most destructive traits. King Solomon tells us in Song of Songs that there is a time to rejoice and a time to be sad, however, there is never a time when depression is the appropriate response. We are to express sadness or happiness based on the events as we perceive them in this world, but we know that G-d is the True Judge, and that in the World of Truth everything is ultimately for the best. This is why the opening of the funeral service is Tziduk HaDin, proclaiming the justness of G-d, and the recognition that this tragedy is part of the greater plan. Depression causes a person to deny the greater good, and fail to see any purpose in life.
Certainly we all have ‘ups’ and ‘downs’ from time to time, and once in an emotional slump it is often difficult to get out of it. However we must always know that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Because Cain failed to realise that there was a larger picture, though he spoke to G-d directly he thought that there was no justice in the world, and through his depression came to fratricide. Had he been able to view the situation objectively he would have understood that G-d was teaching him how to come to a closer relationship with the Divine, and instructing him on the path to spiritual perfection.
Parshat Bereishis
At the end of our Torah portion there is a list of the ten generations from Adam to Noach. Anyone studying the portion would usually skim read this part, as it is repetitive, and doesn’t contain anything interesting, except to help construct a timeline of Jewish history. There is a similar section at the end of next week’s portion, Noach, which again simply lists the generations from Noach to Avraham. It seems that even the Mishna considers these sections unimportant parts of the Torah, as it states, “From Adam to Noach there were ten generations, to show the extent of G-d’s patience...” (Avot 5; 2).
However, if we examine the two lists of names, we find an important difference between them. In this week’s list we are told the age of each person when they had their first son, the remaining number of years of their life, and then the total number of years they lived, “and he died”. In contrast the list at the end of Noach appears to be more sensible, and only gives each person’s age when they had their first son, and their total number of years. Why does our portion bother to give us the total number of years, when this total can be calculated by simply adding together the number of years before and after the first son was born?
There is a question that I am often asked, ‘How could people live so long in those days?’ Certainly we are puzzled by the average antediluvian life expectancy which seems to be in the high 800s. There are several answers given (e.g. Ramban to Genesis 5; 1), however the strangest answer is given by the Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim (2; 47). He states “As for the precise statements made by the texts of the Torah regarding the length of life of certain individuals, I say that only that individual who is mentioned lived so long a life, whereas the other men lived lives that had the natural and usual duration....” Why should G-d miraculously cause a single individual in each generation to live ten times longer than his contemporaries?
At the end of our portion G-d despairs of humanity and states, “I will blot out man whom I created from the face of the ground - from man to animal, to creeping things, and to birds of the sky, for I have reconsidered making them” (6; 7). Rashi (ibid.) explains why the animals were wiped out “Everything was created for mankind, and since mankind was being wiped out, there was no need for the animals”. Before the flood animals were just an adjunct to humanity, and had no significance or merit on their own. Yet by the end of the flood we find, “G-d remembered Noach and all the beasts and all the animals that were with him in the ark...” (8; 1). G-d ‘recreated’ the world both for Noach and the animals. From this point on animals seem to have an intrinsic value which they lacked in the original creation.
Rav Matis Weinberg (Frameworks I) explains that there was a fundamental change between the purpose of mankind before the flood and after. Originally each person was the totality of creation. The Midrash (Kohelet Rabba 7; 13) explains “When G-d created Adam he took him and showed him all the trees of the garden, and said to him, “Look at how nice they are. And everything that I created, I created for you. Take care not to sin, so that you do not destroy the world”. Usually this is understood as the earliest environmental protection statement. However, we can also view it in light of what happened at the time of the flood. Everything was only created for the use of mankind, therefore when people sin the whole world is destroyed.
It is not only the animals who are secondary to people before the flood, but even the human population of the world is only the backdrop for the actions of those ten people mentioned in the list of generations. This is perhaps the key to understanding the Rambam’s comment that everyone else lived lives of normal duration. Those ten generations were the entire focus of creation, and they had to justify their existence through their actions, otherwise the world could not continue to exist. Therefore the Torah lists the total number of years that they lived, but stresses that ‘they died’, - none of them were able to justify their existence through their actions.
After the flood however, human beings were no longer the sole purpose of creation, but one more creature amongst many. Certainly people are endowed with intellect, and free-choice which separates them from the animals, but ultimately they are still only one species among many. This is why G-d remembered not only Noach, but the animals who were with him. Similarly in the book of Jonah we read “G-d said, ... ‘shall I not take pity on Ninveh the great city, in which there are more than 120,000 people who do not know their right hand from their left, and many animals as well?” (4; 11).
Richard Dawkin wrote a book called ‘The Selfish Gene’ in which he shows that the goal of life and evolution is solely to ensure the continuation of the genes of each species. Each species is striving for eternal life through the continuation of their genetic structure, and each individual is only another step in the chain of life. We find a less extreme version of this statement in the genealogies from Noach to Avraham, that the total life of each individual is not as important as the fact that they had children to continue the human race. Before the flood everything was dependent upon each individual, afterwards people become valuable through population numbers even if as individuals they fail to live up to their full potential. We see this difference most clearly in the different reactions that Noach and Avraham have when they are told of imminent mass destruction. Noach recognises the futility of praying to save people who have failed to justify their individual existence, but Avraham immediately begins bargaining for the people of Sodom according to the number of righteous people.
The postdeluvian view of humanity does not mean that individuals cannot justify their existence through their actions, or diminish the importance of each individual, but it means that even if someone fails to fulfil their potential their merit can come from the future generations. Conversely each of us can bring merit through our actions to all our progenitors.
However, if we examine the two lists of names, we find an important difference between them. In this week’s list we are told the age of each person when they had their first son, the remaining number of years of their life, and then the total number of years they lived, “and he died”. In contrast the list at the end of Noach appears to be more sensible, and only gives each person’s age when they had their first son, and their total number of years. Why does our portion bother to give us the total number of years, when this total can be calculated by simply adding together the number of years before and after the first son was born?
There is a question that I am often asked, ‘How could people live so long in those days?’ Certainly we are puzzled by the average antediluvian life expectancy which seems to be in the high 800s. There are several answers given (e.g. Ramban to Genesis 5; 1), however the strangest answer is given by the Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim (2; 47). He states “As for the precise statements made by the texts of the Torah regarding the length of life of certain individuals, I say that only that individual who is mentioned lived so long a life, whereas the other men lived lives that had the natural and usual duration....” Why should G-d miraculously cause a single individual in each generation to live ten times longer than his contemporaries?
At the end of our portion G-d despairs of humanity and states, “I will blot out man whom I created from the face of the ground - from man to animal, to creeping things, and to birds of the sky, for I have reconsidered making them” (6; 7). Rashi (ibid.) explains why the animals were wiped out “Everything was created for mankind, and since mankind was being wiped out, there was no need for the animals”. Before the flood animals were just an adjunct to humanity, and had no significance or merit on their own. Yet by the end of the flood we find, “G-d remembered Noach and all the beasts and all the animals that were with him in the ark...” (8; 1). G-d ‘recreated’ the world both for Noach and the animals. From this point on animals seem to have an intrinsic value which they lacked in the original creation.
Rav Matis Weinberg (Frameworks I) explains that there was a fundamental change between the purpose of mankind before the flood and after. Originally each person was the totality of creation. The Midrash (Kohelet Rabba 7; 13) explains “When G-d created Adam he took him and showed him all the trees of the garden, and said to him, “Look at how nice they are. And everything that I created, I created for you. Take care not to sin, so that you do not destroy the world”. Usually this is understood as the earliest environmental protection statement. However, we can also view it in light of what happened at the time of the flood. Everything was only created for the use of mankind, therefore when people sin the whole world is destroyed.
It is not only the animals who are secondary to people before the flood, but even the human population of the world is only the backdrop for the actions of those ten people mentioned in the list of generations. This is perhaps the key to understanding the Rambam’s comment that everyone else lived lives of normal duration. Those ten generations were the entire focus of creation, and they had to justify their existence through their actions, otherwise the world could not continue to exist. Therefore the Torah lists the total number of years that they lived, but stresses that ‘they died’, - none of them were able to justify their existence through their actions.
After the flood however, human beings were no longer the sole purpose of creation, but one more creature amongst many. Certainly people are endowed with intellect, and free-choice which separates them from the animals, but ultimately they are still only one species among many. This is why G-d remembered not only Noach, but the animals who were with him. Similarly in the book of Jonah we read “G-d said, ... ‘shall I not take pity on Ninveh the great city, in which there are more than 120,000 people who do not know their right hand from their left, and many animals as well?” (4; 11).
Richard Dawkin wrote a book called ‘The Selfish Gene’ in which he shows that the goal of life and evolution is solely to ensure the continuation of the genes of each species. Each species is striving for eternal life through the continuation of their genetic structure, and each individual is only another step in the chain of life. We find a less extreme version of this statement in the genealogies from Noach to Avraham, that the total life of each individual is not as important as the fact that they had children to continue the human race. Before the flood everything was dependent upon each individual, afterwards people become valuable through population numbers even if as individuals they fail to live up to their full potential. We see this difference most clearly in the different reactions that Noach and Avraham have when they are told of imminent mass destruction. Noach recognises the futility of praying to save people who have failed to justify their individual existence, but Avraham immediately begins bargaining for the people of Sodom according to the number of righteous people.
The postdeluvian view of humanity does not mean that individuals cannot justify their existence through their actions, or diminish the importance of each individual, but it means that even if someone fails to fulfil their potential their merit can come from the future generations. Conversely each of us can bring merit through our actions to all our progenitors.
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