Vayakhel
Betzalel ben Uri ben Chur, of the tribe of Yehuda did all that G-d commanded Moshe” (28; 22). Rashi quotes the Talmud (Brachot 55a): The Torah does not say “That which Betzalel was commanded”, but rather “All that Hashem had commanded Moshe”. This implies that even with regard to matters which Moshe did not tell him, Betzalel’s mind was in accord with that which had been said to Moshe at Sinai. For Moshe commanded Betzalel to make the furnishings first, and afterwards the Mishkan. Betzalel said to him, “The common practice is to first make a house, and afterwards to put furnishings in it”. Moshe said to him, “Thus as you said I heard from the mouth of G-d, perhaps you were in G-d’s shadow (a play on the name Betzalel, B’tzel - El, in the shadow of G-d), for indeed that is what G-d commanded me [first the Mishkan and then the furnishings].
This raises several questions. Firstly, how could Moshe have misunderstood what G-d told him regarding the construction of the Mishkan? Was he not referred to by G-d as his “trustworthy servant” (Shabbat Mincha)? Secondly, how could Betzalel dare to question Moshe about what he heard at Mount Sinai. If Moshe said to first make the furnishings why was Betzalel so brazen as to question him? Finally, it seems so obvious that one should build a house before making the fittings and furnishings for it. Why does Moshe praise Betzalel so highly for his understanding, which seems so basic that anyone should have spotted it?
Elsewhere (Exodus 35; 30) Rashi tells us that Chur, Betzalel’s father, was the son of Miriam, Moshe’s sister. Normally the Torah only describes a person by their name and the name of their father. Perhaps the Torah is telling us here that Betzalel was following in the footsteps not only of his father, but also of his grandfather and his great grandmother, that in some way he had the same qualities that Miriam possessed.
Miriam was always the realist. It was she who persuaded her father to remarry his wife despite Pharaoh’s decree that all male children be thrown into the Nile. Miriam was able to see that Amram’s decree was harsher than that of Pharaoh, in that it would have ensured that there were no Jewish children at all, whereas Pharaoh only decreed on the males. She watched over Moshe as he was placed in the Nile to see what would become of him, and she arranged for her mother to be Moshe’s wet nurse. Miriam passed on this ‘sensible’ approach to life to her great grandson Betzalel, so that he was the one chosen by G-d to oversee the construction of the Mishkan.
Moshe was the spiritual leader of the people, and as such was continually treading a fine line between total spirituality and communication with G-d, and being the spokesperson for the nation. To Moshe there was no such thing as independent reality, only G-d’s will which was to be obeyed, and taught to the Jewish people.
The Mishkan was no ordinary building. Each part of it was imbued with spiritual qualities and metaphysical meaning. Moshe saw that the Mishkan was beyond human logic and understanding, and therefore anything that G-d told him he conveyed to the builders without question. Betzalel, however, understood that though the Mishkan was to be the dwelling place of the Divine, nevertheless it was physical and as such could not contradict human logic.
Just as Descartes could only believe in his own existence because of his belief in a good G-d who would not give people logic that had no relationship to reality, so too Betzalel knew that though the Mishkan could be beyond human comprehension it could not by illogical. For G-d to dwell within the constraints of the finite world He must limit Himself to abiding by the laws of this world.
Furthermore, the primary value of the Mishkan was that it provided a paradigm for human interaction with G-d. If the Mishkan had been built contrary to the reality of the world, we would have had no way of bringing G-d into the world, except within the very defined bounds of the Mishkan. Betzalel understood that for the Mishkan to have meaning it must conform to normal human behaviour.
Now we can answer the three questions with which we began. When G-d commanded Moshe about the Mishkan, He left the order in which the items were to be built open to two interpretations, in order that we should realise that the Torah does not contradict our logic, and that people are able to interpret the Torah based on the more logical option. It was this point that Betzalel was questioning, not what Moshe actually heard on Mount Sinai.
Betzalel claimed that G-d would not command us to build a Mishkan which went against our logic. He was telling Moshe that the main function of the Mishkan was to facilitate interaction between people and G-d, and as such it had to be comprehensible. Moshe immediately acknowledged that this was G-d’s purpose, and conceded that he had misinterpreted G-d’s instruction. This does not imply that Moshe misunderstood anything else that he learnt on Mount Sinai, but rather that G-d gave him the opportunity to learn from Betzalel the importance of remaining in touch with the normal way of the world.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Vayakhel 1
Vayakhel is a Parsha dealing with the building of the Mishkan (Tabernacle). It begins, however, with three verses about observing Shabbat. The Rabbis learn from this juxtaposition that the activities which are prohibited on the Sabbath are those activities that were necessary to construct the Mishkan. They also learn from this that keeping Shabbat takes precedence over the building of the Mishkan. Despite the importance of the work, the Jews in the desert were not permitted to desecrate Shabbat in order to complete it quicker.
What is the connection between Shabbat and the Mishkan that enables us to learn that only the activities used in its construction are prohibited? Perhaps there are other, or different, actions that we should not perform on Shabbat. Also, why does the Torah need to tell us that we may not build the Mishkan on Shabbat? Isn’t it obvious that we cannot desecrate Shabbat for any Mitzvah, regardless of its importance. What is it about the Mishkan that may have led us to believe that its construction takes precedence?
There are many parallels between the construction of the Mishkan and the creation of the universe. The Talmud (Megilla 10b) states that on the day when the Mishkan was erected, G-d showed the same happiness as the day on which the world was created. The world is a “dwelling place” for G-d, where His presence can be perceived by His creations. Likewise, the Mishkan was the focal point for G-d’s presence on earth. G-d is called Shaddai because when the world was being created it was unrolling like thread from a loom until G-d said “Dai”, enough (Talmud Chagiga). Similarly, the people brought so many donations for the Mishkan, that the workmen were forced to say “enough” (Exodus 36; 7). On a Kabbalistic level, the world was created with the three highest sefirot (spheres), chachma, bina and da’as, i.e.,wisdom, understanding and knowledge. Similarly, the Mishkan’s prime architect was Betzalel, who is described (ibid. 35; 31) as “filled with wisdom, understanding and knowledge” (which explains the meaning of his name Betzalel, in the shadow of G-d).
The Mishkan is a symbolic map of the spiritual reality of creation. It is also the ultimate fulfilment of the purpose of creation (v. Ramban’s introduction to his commentary on the book of Exodus). Therefore those activities needed for its construction are a representation of the same activities that G-d used in creating the universe. Obviously G-d doesn’t do “work” in any physical sense, in fact the creation of the world was through G-d’s “utterances” rather than through actions (v. Ethics of the Fathers, chapter 5); but the Hebrew word for “word”, davar is the same as the word for “thing”. At some level the essence of everything is G-d’s word made physical. So if we could understand the deepest meaning of words, we could understand the nature of things, and similarly if we look at the physical activities involved in creating something, we can understand its name and essence.
Shabbat is described as a testimony that G-d created the world in six days, and that on the seventh day He rested from all His Melacha (creative activity). The Melacha that G-d did in creating the world is exactly the same Melacha that was used to build the Mishkan. It is not coincidental that the prohibited activities on Shabbat are the same as those involved in building the Mishkan, because both are the activities of the creation of the world. We acknowledge G-d’s creation of the world, and His mastery over it, by abstaining from those creative activities that G-d rested from when He created the world, which are revealed to us through the building of the Mishkan.
This also explains why the Torah needs a specific instruction not to build the Mishkan on Shabbat. Since both are an acknowledgement of G-d’s creation of the world, one may have made the erroneous assumption that building the Mishkan could serve as a substitute for observing Shabbat. Therefore the Torah needs to tell us that this is not so. Shabbat is an eternal reminder, and cannot be replaced, even by another form of acknowledging G-d’s sovereignty.
What is the connection between Shabbat and the Mishkan that enables us to learn that only the activities used in its construction are prohibited? Perhaps there are other, or different, actions that we should not perform on Shabbat. Also, why does the Torah need to tell us that we may not build the Mishkan on Shabbat? Isn’t it obvious that we cannot desecrate Shabbat for any Mitzvah, regardless of its importance. What is it about the Mishkan that may have led us to believe that its construction takes precedence?
There are many parallels between the construction of the Mishkan and the creation of the universe. The Talmud (Megilla 10b) states that on the day when the Mishkan was erected, G-d showed the same happiness as the day on which the world was created. The world is a “dwelling place” for G-d, where His presence can be perceived by His creations. Likewise, the Mishkan was the focal point for G-d’s presence on earth. G-d is called Shaddai because when the world was being created it was unrolling like thread from a loom until G-d said “Dai”, enough (Talmud Chagiga). Similarly, the people brought so many donations for the Mishkan, that the workmen were forced to say “enough” (Exodus 36; 7). On a Kabbalistic level, the world was created with the three highest sefirot (spheres), chachma, bina and da’as, i.e.,wisdom, understanding and knowledge. Similarly, the Mishkan’s prime architect was Betzalel, who is described (ibid. 35; 31) as “filled with wisdom, understanding and knowledge” (which explains the meaning of his name Betzalel, in the shadow of G-d).
The Mishkan is a symbolic map of the spiritual reality of creation. It is also the ultimate fulfilment of the purpose of creation (v. Ramban’s introduction to his commentary on the book of Exodus). Therefore those activities needed for its construction are a representation of the same activities that G-d used in creating the universe. Obviously G-d doesn’t do “work” in any physical sense, in fact the creation of the world was through G-d’s “utterances” rather than through actions (v. Ethics of the Fathers, chapter 5); but the Hebrew word for “word”, davar is the same as the word for “thing”. At some level the essence of everything is G-d’s word made physical. So if we could understand the deepest meaning of words, we could understand the nature of things, and similarly if we look at the physical activities involved in creating something, we can understand its name and essence.
Shabbat is described as a testimony that G-d created the world in six days, and that on the seventh day He rested from all His Melacha (creative activity). The Melacha that G-d did in creating the world is exactly the same Melacha that was used to build the Mishkan. It is not coincidental that the prohibited activities on Shabbat are the same as those involved in building the Mishkan, because both are the activities of the creation of the world. We acknowledge G-d’s creation of the world, and His mastery over it, by abstaining from those creative activities that G-d rested from when He created the world, which are revealed to us through the building of the Mishkan.
This also explains why the Torah needs a specific instruction not to build the Mishkan on Shabbat. Since both are an acknowledgement of G-d’s creation of the world, one may have made the erroneous assumption that building the Mishkan could serve as a substitute for observing Shabbat. Therefore the Torah needs to tell us that this is not so. Shabbat is an eternal reminder, and cannot be replaced, even by another form of acknowledging G-d’s sovereignty.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Parshat Ki Tissa 3
The Soul of the Torah
The difference between the two sets of tablets that Moshe brings down from Mt. Sinai represent the two completely different spiritual levels that the Jews are on at the time they receive them. The first tablets are described (Shemot 32;15) “They were tablets written on both sides, with the writing visible from either side. The tablets were made by G-d and written with G-d’s script engraved on the tablets”. In contrast, the second tablets are made by Moshe. “Carve out two tablets for yourself, just like the first ones. I will write in those tablets the same words that were on the first tablets that you broke.... Moshe carved out two stone tablets like the first”.
Writing is described as the soul of a book. It needs a physical form, e.g. a scroll or book, to contain it, but it is the words that give inner meaning and purpose to that form. So too with the tablets. Before the sin of the Golden Calf, B’nei Yisrael (Children of Israel) had attained the highest spiritual level. In the forty nine days from the Exodus until Mt. Sinai, they rose up through the forty nine levels of spirituality to reach the level of Adam and Eve before their sin. It was as if their bodies had been directly created by G-d, like those of Adam and Eve. They were therefore able to receive the tablets that had been hewn by G-d Himself. At this level the inner light of the soul permeates the body so thoroughly that it is clearly visible. So too the tablets - the words are visible from either side.
After the episode of the Golden Calf, B’nei Yisrael descended to the level that we remain on today. Our physical bodies are all that we perceive. The only way that we can make the inner light of the soul shine through, is by constantly working on controlling our physical drives and desires, thus elevating our bodies to become a pure vehicle for the soul. This is analogous to the second tablets, which were man made.
We see from this that the way that we are able to receive the Torah is totally dependent upon who we are. In the world of physics it is obvious that a vessel must be suitable for its contents; Pouring boiling hot coffee into a thin plastic cup will melt and destroy the container. What is less obvious is that the same rule also applies in the spiritual realm. For someone to receive Torah at a higher level than that which they themselves are on is destructive. Therefore G-d made the Torah compatible with the spiritual level of the people.
This rule is equally applicable now as it was 3300 years ago when the Torah was given. The Torah is ready and waiting for anybody who cares to seek it. When an individual delves into Torah learning, he or she relives the experience of Mt. Sinai. This is shown in the Halacha regarding the weekly Torah reading. The Shulchan Aruch (Orech Chaim 146;4) states “One doesn’t need to stand while the Torah is being read”, and the Rama adds “There are those who are stringent to stand, and this is what the Maharam did”. The Mishna Brura explains “Even the Maharam agrees that there is no legal obligation to stand, but he holds that it is appropriate to go beyond the letter of the law and stand, because when a person hears the Torah being read he should feel as if he has just received it from Mt. Sinai, and at Mt. Sinai all of Yisrael were standing.”
However, we must make sure that we are suitable vessels to contain the Torah that we learn. If we are not constantly “carving out” our physicality to prepare it as a slate for the Torah to be written on, we run the risk of not being able to contain the Torah that we try to absorb.
The difference between the two sets of tablets that Moshe brings down from Mt. Sinai represent the two completely different spiritual levels that the Jews are on at the time they receive them. The first tablets are described (Shemot 32;15) “They were tablets written on both sides, with the writing visible from either side. The tablets were made by G-d and written with G-d’s script engraved on the tablets”. In contrast, the second tablets are made by Moshe. “Carve out two tablets for yourself, just like the first ones. I will write in those tablets the same words that were on the first tablets that you broke.... Moshe carved out two stone tablets like the first”.
Writing is described as the soul of a book. It needs a physical form, e.g. a scroll or book, to contain it, but it is the words that give inner meaning and purpose to that form. So too with the tablets. Before the sin of the Golden Calf, B’nei Yisrael (Children of Israel) had attained the highest spiritual level. In the forty nine days from the Exodus until Mt. Sinai, they rose up through the forty nine levels of spirituality to reach the level of Adam and Eve before their sin. It was as if their bodies had been directly created by G-d, like those of Adam and Eve. They were therefore able to receive the tablets that had been hewn by G-d Himself. At this level the inner light of the soul permeates the body so thoroughly that it is clearly visible. So too the tablets - the words are visible from either side.
After the episode of the Golden Calf, B’nei Yisrael descended to the level that we remain on today. Our physical bodies are all that we perceive. The only way that we can make the inner light of the soul shine through, is by constantly working on controlling our physical drives and desires, thus elevating our bodies to become a pure vehicle for the soul. This is analogous to the second tablets, which were man made.
We see from this that the way that we are able to receive the Torah is totally dependent upon who we are. In the world of physics it is obvious that a vessel must be suitable for its contents; Pouring boiling hot coffee into a thin plastic cup will melt and destroy the container. What is less obvious is that the same rule also applies in the spiritual realm. For someone to receive Torah at a higher level than that which they themselves are on is destructive. Therefore G-d made the Torah compatible with the spiritual level of the people.
This rule is equally applicable now as it was 3300 years ago when the Torah was given. The Torah is ready and waiting for anybody who cares to seek it. When an individual delves into Torah learning, he or she relives the experience of Mt. Sinai. This is shown in the Halacha regarding the weekly Torah reading. The Shulchan Aruch (Orech Chaim 146;4) states “One doesn’t need to stand while the Torah is being read”, and the Rama adds “There are those who are stringent to stand, and this is what the Maharam did”. The Mishna Brura explains “Even the Maharam agrees that there is no legal obligation to stand, but he holds that it is appropriate to go beyond the letter of the law and stand, because when a person hears the Torah being read he should feel as if he has just received it from Mt. Sinai, and at Mt. Sinai all of Yisrael were standing.”
However, we must make sure that we are suitable vessels to contain the Torah that we learn. If we are not constantly “carving out” our physicality to prepare it as a slate for the Torah to be written on, we run the risk of not being able to contain the Torah that we try to absorb.
Parshat Ki Tissa 2
Real Leaders
One of the most difficult things for a spiritual leader is to remain in touch with his or her people. It is so easy to become drawn into the spiritual realm and leave the physical, material world behind. However in so doing, a leader may become inaccessible and no longer able to relate to others. This was the fear of the people which led to the building of the Golden Calf. “The people gathered themselves together around Aharon, and said to him, “Make us a god who shall go before us, for Moshe, the man, who brought us out of the Land of Egypt, we know not what is become of him.” (Exodus 32; 1-2). The people were not abandoning G-d, but thought that Moshe had become lost to them.
They wanted an idol, not as a false god, but to lead them. They saw Moshe enter into the fiery darkness of Mount Sinai and they were afraid that he was no longer able to relate to them as mortals. The Talmud (Shabbat) states that with each utterance of the Ten Commandments the souls of the people would depart, and they had to be revived by angels, and yet Moshe went to speak directly to G-d. The people were concerned that they had lost their intermediary, and no longer had any means of communicating with G-d. Therefore they created a new figurehead for themselves, “to go before them”.
We see that G-d was also concerned that Moshe was losing touch with the physical world, thus becoming unsuitable as a leader. “And G-d spoke to Moshe, ‘Go down, for your people… have become corrupt’” (ibid. 7). Rashi explains that G-d told Moshe to go down from his exalted position, because his eminence is only due to his being the leader of the people. If he is unable lead them he is no longer able to remain before the Divine Presence.
The people chose to make a calf, a domestic beast, because they were looking for a leader to whom they could relate, one who can translate their normal lives into a spiritual experience. A calf is trained to work in the fields, to do the most mundane tasks. That is the sort of leader that the people want and need.
The Torah hints to us why Aharon was the most suitable person to build this intermediary. He was the leader who retained his connection with the material world, despite his exalted spiritual status. The Torah describes Moshe as judging the nation “from morning until evening” (ibid. 27; 13). The Talmud comments on this that though he was not literally judging from morning until night, the Torah ascribes this to him to teach that anyone who judges a case fairly and honestly is considered a partner with G-d in creation, which was also created with day and night.
The S’fas Emes points out that Aharon is also considered a partner in creation. He is to light the Menorah from evening until morning (ibid. 37; 20). However there is a fundamental difference between Moshe’s creation and Aharon’s. Moshe takes the day, the clear revelation of the Torah and the Divine Presence, and brings in down to the level of night, the darkness and confusion of everyday life. Aharon’s function is the opposite; to elevate the world, in the chaos of night, and bring it to the level where it can hear the message of Divine Light. This is why Moshe sits in judgement, dispensing the truths of the Torah to the daily realities of life, whereas Aharon lights the Menorah, elevating the physical and turning it into light.
This is why the people asked Aharon to make the idol for them. They were able to relate better to his method of relating to the physical world and elevating it. They were not afraid that he would forget what it is to be human. Therefore he is the high priest of the idol also. Moshe the man has gone, the nation cry out for a new leader whom they can relate to, to bring them G-d’s message. Aharon is the one with whom they can speak, and the calf represents the physicality of the world, and the baseness of human existence, whereas Moshe represented spirituality. Thus the calf had to be destroyed in order to allow the people to attain the spiritual heights shown to them by Moshe. Though they were not on the same level as Moshe, they had the potential to be so and in order to do this the calf had to be destroyed as it held them back spiritually.
One of the most difficult things for a spiritual leader is to remain in touch with his or her people. It is so easy to become drawn into the spiritual realm and leave the physical, material world behind. However in so doing, a leader may become inaccessible and no longer able to relate to others. This was the fear of the people which led to the building of the Golden Calf. “The people gathered themselves together around Aharon, and said to him, “Make us a god who shall go before us, for Moshe, the man, who brought us out of the Land of Egypt, we know not what is become of him.” (Exodus 32; 1-2). The people were not abandoning G-d, but thought that Moshe had become lost to them.
They wanted an idol, not as a false god, but to lead them. They saw Moshe enter into the fiery darkness of Mount Sinai and they were afraid that he was no longer able to relate to them as mortals. The Talmud (Shabbat) states that with each utterance of the Ten Commandments the souls of the people would depart, and they had to be revived by angels, and yet Moshe went to speak directly to G-d. The people were concerned that they had lost their intermediary, and no longer had any means of communicating with G-d. Therefore they created a new figurehead for themselves, “to go before them”.
We see that G-d was also concerned that Moshe was losing touch with the physical world, thus becoming unsuitable as a leader. “And G-d spoke to Moshe, ‘Go down, for your people… have become corrupt’” (ibid. 7). Rashi explains that G-d told Moshe to go down from his exalted position, because his eminence is only due to his being the leader of the people. If he is unable lead them he is no longer able to remain before the Divine Presence.
The people chose to make a calf, a domestic beast, because they were looking for a leader to whom they could relate, one who can translate their normal lives into a spiritual experience. A calf is trained to work in the fields, to do the most mundane tasks. That is the sort of leader that the people want and need.
The Torah hints to us why Aharon was the most suitable person to build this intermediary. He was the leader who retained his connection with the material world, despite his exalted spiritual status. The Torah describes Moshe as judging the nation “from morning until evening” (ibid. 27; 13). The Talmud comments on this that though he was not literally judging from morning until night, the Torah ascribes this to him to teach that anyone who judges a case fairly and honestly is considered a partner with G-d in creation, which was also created with day and night.
The S’fas Emes points out that Aharon is also considered a partner in creation. He is to light the Menorah from evening until morning (ibid. 37; 20). However there is a fundamental difference between Moshe’s creation and Aharon’s. Moshe takes the day, the clear revelation of the Torah and the Divine Presence, and brings in down to the level of night, the darkness and confusion of everyday life. Aharon’s function is the opposite; to elevate the world, in the chaos of night, and bring it to the level where it can hear the message of Divine Light. This is why Moshe sits in judgement, dispensing the truths of the Torah to the daily realities of life, whereas Aharon lights the Menorah, elevating the physical and turning it into light.
This is why the people asked Aharon to make the idol for them. They were able to relate better to his method of relating to the physical world and elevating it. They were not afraid that he would forget what it is to be human. Therefore he is the high priest of the idol also. Moshe the man has gone, the nation cry out for a new leader whom they can relate to, to bring them G-d’s message. Aharon is the one with whom they can speak, and the calf represents the physicality of the world, and the baseness of human existence, whereas Moshe represented spirituality. Thus the calf had to be destroyed in order to allow the people to attain the spiritual heights shown to them by Moshe. Though they were not on the same level as Moshe, they had the potential to be so and in order to do this the calf had to be destroyed as it held them back spiritually.
Parshat Ki Tissa
Sorry this was not posted before Shabbos. For a translation of exerpts from Tosefet Beracha on Ki Tissa follow this link.
Tosefet Bracha on Ki Tissa
Idolatry and Yosef HaTzaddik
In this week’s Torah portion we read about the sin of the Golden Calf. Many questions can be asked on this topic; how could the nation who heard G-d’s voice and accepted the Torah only a few weeks earlier suddenly rebel against Him and begin to worship idols? However, I want to address the issue of why, of all the idols they could have made, they built a calf. (Look in the Ramban’s commentary to this section for a kabbalistic idea). The simple answer is that they had seen the Egyptians worshipping cows, and were merely imitating the rituals of their former masters. However, it seems strange that having seen what happened to the Egyptians, and knowing that G-d was greater than any of their gods they would chose to revert back to that form of idolatry.
If we look at the words of the Torah we find that the original intent of the Israelites was not to build an idol in place of G-d, but rather in place of Moshe: The people gathered around Aharon and said to him, “Rise up and make for us gods that will go before us, for we know not what has become of this man Moshe who brought us up from the land of Egypt” (Exodus 32; 1). The word Elokim which is translated here as gods is also often used to mean judges, and thus the simple interpretation of this verse is that they want another leader in place of Moshe, who has disappeared. Only after the calf was built did some of the people begin to say that it was in place of G-d.
Moshe had been the one to lead them through the desert, meld them into a nation, and provide them with the Manna (which according to the Talmud fell in the merit of Moshe). When they looked for a suitable substitute they remembered Yosef, who had been the viceroy in Egypt, made Egypt into the superpower of the ancient Middle East, and provided food for the people through his careful planning and storing. He seemed like the perfect person to take over in place of Moshe. The only problem was that he had been dead for over 200 years. However, they were carrying his coffin with them, and they remembered the blessing that Ya’akov had given to Yosef on his death bed. “A charming son is Yosef, a charming son to the eye; the girls stepped the see the rising ox” (Genesis 49; 22). Yosef is associated with the image of an ox. When Moshe wanted to find where his coffin was buried in the Nile, he threw in a piece of parchment containing the words “arise ox” and his coffin rose to the surface. That same piece of parchment was used when they built the Golden Calf to bring it to life. (Midrash Shir HaShirim 1; 11).
However, there was also another side of Yosef that the people tried to capture in their idol, that of youthfulness. He is described several times in the Torah as a na’ar, an adolescent. Yosef throughout his life retained qualities of youthfulness, such as a desire to maintain physical beauty, a belief that nothing is impossible, and the naiveté and honesty which led him to be sold by his brothers in the first place. When Pharaoh elevated Yosef to power he tried to turn him into an ‘adult’ by giving him a new name and identity. Yet as we see from the verse above the girls were still after him, and he retained his charming youthfulness.
The people who built the Calf wanted these qualities in their new leader. Idols often take the form of youthful heroes, with invincible powers. The Talmud also tells us that the main motivation for the Jews to build the Golden Calf was to permit to themselves the sexual liaisons that had been forbidden by the Torah and Moshe. Therefore, they didn’t build an ox as their god, but a calf. The proof that the people were primarily interested in the youthful qualities of the Calf is from the Midrash (Tanchuma 8, quoted in Rashi v. 22) regarding the laws of the red heifer (which we read today as our special Maftir). Symbolically the ‘Cow’ came to atone for the sin of the ‘Calf’ as if to say let the mother come and clean up the mess left by her child. The Calf is the young child, created by the young nation, in their quest to escape from the confining laws they had received at Sinai.
The irony of the situation is that Yosef himself went to great lengths to prevent the Egyptians themselves from worshipping cows. The Midrash (Bereishis Rabti 712) explains that when Yosef told the Egyptians to “Bring your cattle (as payment for the grain)” (Exodus 47; 16) his intent was to wean them from their idols. However, his plan backfired on his descendants, who themselves began to worship the very idol that Yosef had removed from the Egyptians.
Tosefet Bracha on Ki Tissa
Idolatry and Yosef HaTzaddik
In this week’s Torah portion we read about the sin of the Golden Calf. Many questions can be asked on this topic; how could the nation who heard G-d’s voice and accepted the Torah only a few weeks earlier suddenly rebel against Him and begin to worship idols? However, I want to address the issue of why, of all the idols they could have made, they built a calf. (Look in the Ramban’s commentary to this section for a kabbalistic idea). The simple answer is that they had seen the Egyptians worshipping cows, and were merely imitating the rituals of their former masters. However, it seems strange that having seen what happened to the Egyptians, and knowing that G-d was greater than any of their gods they would chose to revert back to that form of idolatry.
If we look at the words of the Torah we find that the original intent of the Israelites was not to build an idol in place of G-d, but rather in place of Moshe: The people gathered around Aharon and said to him, “Rise up and make for us gods that will go before us, for we know not what has become of this man Moshe who brought us up from the land of Egypt” (Exodus 32; 1). The word Elokim which is translated here as gods is also often used to mean judges, and thus the simple interpretation of this verse is that they want another leader in place of Moshe, who has disappeared. Only after the calf was built did some of the people begin to say that it was in place of G-d.
Moshe had been the one to lead them through the desert, meld them into a nation, and provide them with the Manna (which according to the Talmud fell in the merit of Moshe). When they looked for a suitable substitute they remembered Yosef, who had been the viceroy in Egypt, made Egypt into the superpower of the ancient Middle East, and provided food for the people through his careful planning and storing. He seemed like the perfect person to take over in place of Moshe. The only problem was that he had been dead for over 200 years. However, they were carrying his coffin with them, and they remembered the blessing that Ya’akov had given to Yosef on his death bed. “A charming son is Yosef, a charming son to the eye; the girls stepped the see the rising ox” (Genesis 49; 22). Yosef is associated with the image of an ox. When Moshe wanted to find where his coffin was buried in the Nile, he threw in a piece of parchment containing the words “arise ox” and his coffin rose to the surface. That same piece of parchment was used when they built the Golden Calf to bring it to life. (Midrash Shir HaShirim 1; 11).
However, there was also another side of Yosef that the people tried to capture in their idol, that of youthfulness. He is described several times in the Torah as a na’ar, an adolescent. Yosef throughout his life retained qualities of youthfulness, such as a desire to maintain physical beauty, a belief that nothing is impossible, and the naiveté and honesty which led him to be sold by his brothers in the first place. When Pharaoh elevated Yosef to power he tried to turn him into an ‘adult’ by giving him a new name and identity. Yet as we see from the verse above the girls were still after him, and he retained his charming youthfulness.
The people who built the Calf wanted these qualities in their new leader. Idols often take the form of youthful heroes, with invincible powers. The Talmud also tells us that the main motivation for the Jews to build the Golden Calf was to permit to themselves the sexual liaisons that had been forbidden by the Torah and Moshe. Therefore, they didn’t build an ox as their god, but a calf. The proof that the people were primarily interested in the youthful qualities of the Calf is from the Midrash (Tanchuma 8, quoted in Rashi v. 22) regarding the laws of the red heifer (which we read today as our special Maftir). Symbolically the ‘Cow’ came to atone for the sin of the ‘Calf’ as if to say let the mother come and clean up the mess left by her child. The Calf is the young child, created by the young nation, in their quest to escape from the confining laws they had received at Sinai.
The irony of the situation is that Yosef himself went to great lengths to prevent the Egyptians themselves from worshipping cows. The Midrash (Bereishis Rabti 712) explains that when Yosef told the Egyptians to “Bring your cattle (as payment for the grain)” (Exodus 47; 16) his intent was to wean them from their idols. However, his plan backfired on his descendants, who themselves began to worship the very idol that Yosef had removed from the Egyptians.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Vayakhel
Moshe assembles the Children of Israel, reviews with them the laws of Shabbat, then instructs them in the building of the Tabernacle. Each person brings whatever their heart motivates them to bring. The women bring precious jewels and spun wool and linen. The men bring silver, copper, wood and cloth. The princes of each tribe bring the stones for the High Priest's breastplate and shoulder pads, and spices and oil.
Betzalel is designated by G-d as master craftsman and Oholiav as his assistant. Moshe summons them, and others with the wisdom and insight to build G-d's Sanctuary. The people continue to bring gifts every day, until they have more than enough materials. Moshe commands the people to stop bringing gifts.
The Torah lists the items made for the Tabernacle, starting with the curtains, the cover, the planks, the partitions and the screen. They the vessels; the Ark, the Cover, the Table, and the Menorah. The two altars - the Incense Altar out of gold and the Burnt Offering Altar from copper. A special copper wash basin is constructed for the Cohanim to wash their hands and feet. Lastly, the courtyard is made by surrounding the area with lace hangings with an embroidered screen at the entrance.
Betzalel is designated by G-d as master craftsman and Oholiav as his assistant. Moshe summons them, and others with the wisdom and insight to build G-d's Sanctuary. The people continue to bring gifts every day, until they have more than enough materials. Moshe commands the people to stop bringing gifts.
The Torah lists the items made for the Tabernacle, starting with the curtains, the cover, the planks, the partitions and the screen. They the vessels; the Ark, the Cover, the Table, and the Menorah. The two altars - the Incense Altar out of gold and the Burnt Offering Altar from copper. A special copper wash basin is constructed for the Cohanim to wash their hands and feet. Lastly, the courtyard is made by surrounding the area with lace hangings with an embroidered screen at the entrance.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Ki Tissa Summary
G-d instructs Moshe (Moses) to take a census. All the males over twenty must give half a shekel of silver, as an offering to G-d, and the number of people will be determined by counting the total amount of silver.
G-d instructs Moshe to make a copper washstand. The Cohanim must wash their hands from this before entering the Ohel Mo'ed (Communion Tent). G-d gives Moshe the recipe for the anointing oil. He instructs Moshe to anoint the Ohel Mo'ed, the Ark and all the other vessels, to sanctify them. Moshe must also anoint Aharon and his sons to sanctify them as Cohanim (Priests). G-d gives Moshe the recipe for the incense, which is to be offered in the Ohel Mo'ed.
G-d tells Moshe that He has selected Betzalel ben Chur as the main craftsman for building the Ohel Mo'ed and its vessels. Oholiav ben Achisamach will be his assistant. G-d tells Moshe to instruct the Jews about the laws of Shabbat, and the punishment for not observing it. Shabbat will be an eternal covenant between G-d and the Jewish people.
Moshe receives the two tablets of testimony written by G-d. Meanwhile the people realise that Moshe has not returned when expected and feared he is dead. They ask Aharon to make them an oracle to lead them. He tries to stall them, but eventually melts down gold and a golden calf emerges from the fire. The people begin to offer sacrifices to this idol, and get up to enjoy themselves.
G-d tells Moshe to descend the Mount as the people have become corrupt. G-d threatens to destroy them all and begin a new nation from Moshe. Moshe asks for their forgiveness or else erase his (Moshe's) name from the Torah; G-d accepts his prayer. When Moshe sees the nation practising idolatry he smashes the tablets and destroys the calf. The sons of Levi punish the transgressors, executing 3000 men.
Moshe sets up his tent outside the camp, and the Cloud of Glory came to it. Moshe ascends Mount Sinai again and asks G-d to show him how He conducts the world. Moshe is told to stand in the crevice of a rock and G-d shows him His "back". Moshe is instructed to make new tablets and G-d makes a covenant with the nation; He will drive out the nations from before them and they will observe His commandments. They are commanded against idol worship, intermarriage and the combination of milk and meat and are taught the laws of Pesach, the first born animals, the first fruits, Shabbos, Shavuos and Succos. When Moshe descends with the new tablets, his face is radiant from his contact with G-d and he must wear a mask over his face so that people can look at him.
G-d instructs Moshe to make a copper washstand. The Cohanim must wash their hands from this before entering the Ohel Mo'ed (Communion Tent). G-d gives Moshe the recipe for the anointing oil. He instructs Moshe to anoint the Ohel Mo'ed, the Ark and all the other vessels, to sanctify them. Moshe must also anoint Aharon and his sons to sanctify them as Cohanim (Priests). G-d gives Moshe the recipe for the incense, which is to be offered in the Ohel Mo'ed.
G-d tells Moshe that He has selected Betzalel ben Chur as the main craftsman for building the Ohel Mo'ed and its vessels. Oholiav ben Achisamach will be his assistant. G-d tells Moshe to instruct the Jews about the laws of Shabbat, and the punishment for not observing it. Shabbat will be an eternal covenant between G-d and the Jewish people.
Moshe receives the two tablets of testimony written by G-d. Meanwhile the people realise that Moshe has not returned when expected and feared he is dead. They ask Aharon to make them an oracle to lead them. He tries to stall them, but eventually melts down gold and a golden calf emerges from the fire. The people begin to offer sacrifices to this idol, and get up to enjoy themselves.
G-d tells Moshe to descend the Mount as the people have become corrupt. G-d threatens to destroy them all and begin a new nation from Moshe. Moshe asks for their forgiveness or else erase his (Moshe's) name from the Torah; G-d accepts his prayer. When Moshe sees the nation practising idolatry he smashes the tablets and destroys the calf. The sons of Levi punish the transgressors, executing 3000 men.
Moshe sets up his tent outside the camp, and the Cloud of Glory came to it. Moshe ascends Mount Sinai again and asks G-d to show him how He conducts the world. Moshe is told to stand in the crevice of a rock and G-d shows him His "back". Moshe is instructed to make new tablets and G-d makes a covenant with the nation; He will drive out the nations from before them and they will observe His commandments. They are commanded against idol worship, intermarriage and the combination of milk and meat and are taught the laws of Pesach, the first born animals, the first fruits, Shabbos, Shavuos and Succos. When Moshe descends with the new tablets, his face is radiant from his contact with G-d and he must wear a mask over his face so that people can look at him.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Tetzaveh 2
They say that clothes make a man, but it is no less true that the man makes the clothes. This week’s Torah reading deals primarily with the making of the garments for Aharon, and all subsequent Cohanim Gadolim. The garments are described as L’Chavod U’L’Tifaret, “for glory and splendour”. They were fashioned out of elaborate threads and gold, with precious jewels upon the shoulder pads and the breast plates. As the representative of G-d, and the agent for effecting the atonement for the nation, the Cohen Gadol has to be an imposing figure, both spiritually and physically. The Talmud (Yoma 18a) states that the Cohen Gadol has to be greater than the other Cohanim in strength, beauty, wisdom and wealth, and if he is does not have wealth the other Cohanim must make him wealthy from their own pockets.
There is a discussion in the Talmud as to whether the Cohanim are the emissaries of G-d or of the people. On the one hand they offer the sacrifices on behalf of the people, and perform all the Temple services on their behalf; on the other hand they eat some of the sacrifices, and they have special laws that set them apart from the rest of the population. The Cohen Gadol is certainly both of these, the ultimate representative of the people when he enters into the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur to seek atonement for the nation, and G-d’s messenger when he returns from within the Holy of Holies to show the crimson thread which has turned white as a sign of G-d’s forgiveness. We say in Mussaf on Yom Kippur: Thus would he [the Cohen Gadol] say, “I beseech of You G-d, I have erred, been iniquitous, and wilfully sinned before You, I and my household and the children of Aharon… Your people, the Family of Israel”. At this point the Cohen Gadol is the representative of the nation. Then we say “How majestic was the Cohen Gadol as he left the Holy of Holies… Like the Majesty in which the Creator clothed the creatures - was the appearance of the Cohen Gadol.” He has become G-d’s representative, symbolising the atonement which G-d has granted to His nation.
The beautiful and ornate garments which the Cohen Gadol wears as he performs the services are necessary to show the people both the splendour of their representative, and to show the heavenly beauty of G-d’s representative. However, when worn by someone who is not worthy of being the Cohen Gadol, the garments transform from being the height of spirituality to the most base, physical excesses of opulence. The Talmud (Megillah 12a) learns from the opening of Megillat Esther that King Achashverosh had taken the raiment of the Cohen Gadol and was wearing them at his feast which was designed to show his wealth and might, and to celebrate the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. The text states that he displayed “Yakar Tiferet Gedulato”, “The splendour of his excellent majesty”. The word Tiferet is used to describe the clothes of the Cohen Gadol, which indicates to us that it was those that Achashverosh was wearing.
The result of Achashverosh’s wearing the garments was not his spiritual elevation, but the degradation of himself and his wife through clothing. In his drunken stupor Achashverosh ordered Vashti to appear before the assembled guests wearing only her royal crown. When she refused to be seen naked in public, Achashverosh had her put to death. By misusing the holy garments, Achashverosh was ultimately shamed and punished.
The Malbim explains the difference between the two adjectives Chavod (glory) and Yakar (excellent), which are the words describing the manner in which the Cohen Gadol wears the holy garments, contrasted with how Achashverosh wore them. Malbim (Ya’ir Or, Ot yud, 10) says that Yakar refers to rarity and preciousness of an object, whereas Chavod describes its value in terms of spiritual elevation. For example gold is Yakar, but it does not have Chavod, but a wise sage has Chavod even though not necessarily Yakar. King Achashverosh saw the garments as a precious commodity, and was showing off the wealth that he had looted. However this external pride caused him to become humbled. The Cohen Gadol wears the clothes to show his spiritual level, and self perfection as representative of both the congregation and G-d.
Of course, even the office of Cohen Gadol was open to abuse, and the lure of wealth became a factor in the appointment of the Cohen Gadol in the times of the Second Temple, as the Talmud (Yoma 18a) states: Rabbi Asi said “Two barrels of silver coins were given to King Yannai by Marta daughter of Baitus in order that Yehoshua ben Gamla should be appointed as Cohen Gadol.” The result was that the Cohanim Gadolim were not spiritually worthy of their position, and having entered the Holy of Holies in an unfit state would not survive a year in office.
Splendour is important when used as a tool for giving honour and glory to G-d. When it becomes the goal and the object of desire, rather than a means for spiritual elevation, it is degrading and brings tragedy in its wake.
There is a discussion in the Talmud as to whether the Cohanim are the emissaries of G-d or of the people. On the one hand they offer the sacrifices on behalf of the people, and perform all the Temple services on their behalf; on the other hand they eat some of the sacrifices, and they have special laws that set them apart from the rest of the population. The Cohen Gadol is certainly both of these, the ultimate representative of the people when he enters into the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur to seek atonement for the nation, and G-d’s messenger when he returns from within the Holy of Holies to show the crimson thread which has turned white as a sign of G-d’s forgiveness. We say in Mussaf on Yom Kippur: Thus would he [the Cohen Gadol] say, “I beseech of You G-d, I have erred, been iniquitous, and wilfully sinned before You, I and my household and the children of Aharon… Your people, the Family of Israel”. At this point the Cohen Gadol is the representative of the nation. Then we say “How majestic was the Cohen Gadol as he left the Holy of Holies… Like the Majesty in which the Creator clothed the creatures - was the appearance of the Cohen Gadol.” He has become G-d’s representative, symbolising the atonement which G-d has granted to His nation.
The beautiful and ornate garments which the Cohen Gadol wears as he performs the services are necessary to show the people both the splendour of their representative, and to show the heavenly beauty of G-d’s representative. However, when worn by someone who is not worthy of being the Cohen Gadol, the garments transform from being the height of spirituality to the most base, physical excesses of opulence. The Talmud (Megillah 12a) learns from the opening of Megillat Esther that King Achashverosh had taken the raiment of the Cohen Gadol and was wearing them at his feast which was designed to show his wealth and might, and to celebrate the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. The text states that he displayed “Yakar Tiferet Gedulato”, “The splendour of his excellent majesty”. The word Tiferet is used to describe the clothes of the Cohen Gadol, which indicates to us that it was those that Achashverosh was wearing.
The result of Achashverosh’s wearing the garments was not his spiritual elevation, but the degradation of himself and his wife through clothing. In his drunken stupor Achashverosh ordered Vashti to appear before the assembled guests wearing only her royal crown. When she refused to be seen naked in public, Achashverosh had her put to death. By misusing the holy garments, Achashverosh was ultimately shamed and punished.
The Malbim explains the difference between the two adjectives Chavod (glory) and Yakar (excellent), which are the words describing the manner in which the Cohen Gadol wears the holy garments, contrasted with how Achashverosh wore them. Malbim (Ya’ir Or, Ot yud, 10) says that Yakar refers to rarity and preciousness of an object, whereas Chavod describes its value in terms of spiritual elevation. For example gold is Yakar, but it does not have Chavod, but a wise sage has Chavod even though not necessarily Yakar. King Achashverosh saw the garments as a precious commodity, and was showing off the wealth that he had looted. However this external pride caused him to become humbled. The Cohen Gadol wears the clothes to show his spiritual level, and self perfection as representative of both the congregation and G-d.
Of course, even the office of Cohen Gadol was open to abuse, and the lure of wealth became a factor in the appointment of the Cohen Gadol in the times of the Second Temple, as the Talmud (Yoma 18a) states: Rabbi Asi said “Two barrels of silver coins were given to King Yannai by Marta daughter of Baitus in order that Yehoshua ben Gamla should be appointed as Cohen Gadol.” The result was that the Cohanim Gadolim were not spiritually worthy of their position, and having entered the Holy of Holies in an unfit state would not survive a year in office.
Splendour is important when used as a tool for giving honour and glory to G-d. When it becomes the goal and the object of desire, rather than a means for spiritual elevation, it is degrading and brings tragedy in its wake.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Tetzaveh 1
This is the only Torah reading from the beginning of Exodus until the end of Deuteronomy that does not contain the name of Moshe. Even though G-d is speaking to him throughout the Parsha, nowhere does it explicitly state his name. Many explanations have been given for this; here is one possibility.
When Moshe first encounters G-d at the Burning Bush, he argues that he is not worthy to lead the Jewish people out of slavery, and insists that his elder brother Aharon would be better suited to the task. Our tradition tells us that this dialogue between Moshe and G-d lasted for an entire week, until finally “G-d’s anger burned against Moshe [and He said] ‘Behold Aharon the Levi is your brother’ ... ‘When he sees you his heart will be glad’...” (Shemos 4;14). The Sages comment on this verse,
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korcha says: Every time the “burning of G-d’s anger” is mentioned in the Torah, a lasting mark is mentioned with regard to it. Yet this burning anger has no lasting mark mentioned with regard to it, and we do not find any punishment coming about. Rabbi Yose said to him: A mark is mentioned with regard to this one too; that which is implied by the conclusion of the verse “Aharon the Levi is your brother”. Aharon was destined to be a Levite, not a Cohen, and G-d had intended that the kehuna (priesthood) would come forth from Moshe. Now that you, Moshe, have angered me, it will not be so. Rather he will be a Cohen and you will be the Levite, as it says “But as for Moshe, the man of G-d, his sons will be reckoned among the tribe of Levi” (I Divrei HaYamim 23; 14). (Shemos Rabba 3;17, quoted by Rashi on Exodus ibid.)
This week’s Parsha deals primarily with the garments that the Cohanim wore, particularly those of the Cohen Gadol (High Priest). Since originally Moshe should have been the Cohen Gadol, in deference to his feelings, and as a reminder that he missed out on this opportunity, his name is not mentioned in this section.
However we find a paradox. Although Moshe’s name is not mentioned, G-d speaks to him in the second person; G-d is speaking to Moshe even more directly than usual. Not only that, but it is Moshe himself who is instructed to dress Aharon and his sons in their priestly garments, and Moshe acts as the “Cohen” who performs the service to initiate them into the Kehuna. In other words, at the same time that G-d rebukes Moshe, he draws him still closer to Himself.
This is a fulfilment of the Talmudic dictum “One should always push someone away with the left hand, but draw them closer with the right” (Sanhedrin 107b). The right hand is the stronger, and thus the Rabbis are telling us that any rebuke or punishment should be simultaneously accompanied by a greater kindness. We do not subscribe to the Dr. Spock child-rearing mentality, without any rules or punishments, drawing close with both hands. Nor do we permit harsh punishment to the extent of driving a person away completely, pushing with both hands. Both these options lead to tragic outcomes. Our challenge is to raise our students to adhere to their obligations, punishing when necessary, but always in a manner which leads to closeness, not distance.
Here the Torah is telling us that G-d follows the same guidelines. Throughout history we have seen that whenever G-d needs to punish us, causing us to stumble through he darkness of oppression and persecution, He always brings us even closer to Him at the end, through an outpouring of mercy. At those times that we cannot feel His presence, that we cannot see Him calling us by name, He is actually speaking to us even more directly, and giving us a greater opportunity to draw near to Him.
When Moshe first encounters G-d at the Burning Bush, he argues that he is not worthy to lead the Jewish people out of slavery, and insists that his elder brother Aharon would be better suited to the task. Our tradition tells us that this dialogue between Moshe and G-d lasted for an entire week, until finally “G-d’s anger burned against Moshe [and He said] ‘Behold Aharon the Levi is your brother’ ... ‘When he sees you his heart will be glad’...” (Shemos 4;14). The Sages comment on this verse,
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korcha says: Every time the “burning of G-d’s anger” is mentioned in the Torah, a lasting mark is mentioned with regard to it. Yet this burning anger has no lasting mark mentioned with regard to it, and we do not find any punishment coming about. Rabbi Yose said to him: A mark is mentioned with regard to this one too; that which is implied by the conclusion of the verse “Aharon the Levi is your brother”. Aharon was destined to be a Levite, not a Cohen, and G-d had intended that the kehuna (priesthood) would come forth from Moshe. Now that you, Moshe, have angered me, it will not be so. Rather he will be a Cohen and you will be the Levite, as it says “But as for Moshe, the man of G-d, his sons will be reckoned among the tribe of Levi” (I Divrei HaYamim 23; 14). (Shemos Rabba 3;17, quoted by Rashi on Exodus ibid.)
This week’s Parsha deals primarily with the garments that the Cohanim wore, particularly those of the Cohen Gadol (High Priest). Since originally Moshe should have been the Cohen Gadol, in deference to his feelings, and as a reminder that he missed out on this opportunity, his name is not mentioned in this section.
However we find a paradox. Although Moshe’s name is not mentioned, G-d speaks to him in the second person; G-d is speaking to Moshe even more directly than usual. Not only that, but it is Moshe himself who is instructed to dress Aharon and his sons in their priestly garments, and Moshe acts as the “Cohen” who performs the service to initiate them into the Kehuna. In other words, at the same time that G-d rebukes Moshe, he draws him still closer to Himself.
This is a fulfilment of the Talmudic dictum “One should always push someone away with the left hand, but draw them closer with the right” (Sanhedrin 107b). The right hand is the stronger, and thus the Rabbis are telling us that any rebuke or punishment should be simultaneously accompanied by a greater kindness. We do not subscribe to the Dr. Spock child-rearing mentality, without any rules or punishments, drawing close with both hands. Nor do we permit harsh punishment to the extent of driving a person away completely, pushing with both hands. Both these options lead to tragic outcomes. Our challenge is to raise our students to adhere to their obligations, punishing when necessary, but always in a manner which leads to closeness, not distance.
Here the Torah is telling us that G-d follows the same guidelines. Throughout history we have seen that whenever G-d needs to punish us, causing us to stumble through he darkness of oppression and persecution, He always brings us even closer to Him at the end, through an outpouring of mercy. At those times that we cannot feel His presence, that we cannot see Him calling us by name, He is actually speaking to us even more directly, and giving us a greater opportunity to draw near to Him.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Tetzaveh Summary
My translation of a selection from Tosefet Bracha on Tetzaveh can be found by clicking the link.
Parshat Tetzaveh
G-d instructs Moshe about the oil to be used for the Menorah. Moshe is told to separate Aharon and his sons to be the Cohanim (priests), and to make special garments for them to wear. The Ephod is only worn by the Cohen Gadol (High Priest), and is made out of six-coloured thread. It is an apron tied with a belt, and has two shoulder pads with two sardonyx stones on them, on which the names of the twelve tribes are engraved.
The Cohen Gadol also wears the Choshen Mishpat (Breastplate of Judgement). It has four rows with three precious stones in each row, each stone corresponding to one of the twelve tribes. The Urim V'Tummim (Lightings and Decisions) is placed inside the Ephod, and when worn by the Cohen Gadol can be consulted like an oracle. Next Moshe is instructed to make a robe for the Cohen Gadol. It is entirely techeilet (a shade of blue). At its base are "pomegranates" made of thread, interspersed with gold bells. The Cohen Gadol must also wear a Tzitz (forehead-plate) of pure gold, engraved with the words "Kadosh LaShem" (Holy to G-d). He also wears a linen tunic and a turban.
The regular Cohanim wear only tunics, sashes, turbans, and linen pants. These garments must be worn by the Cohanim whenever they perform the sacrifices in the Temple.
Moshe is instructed as to how to consecrate the Cohanim. Moshe must bring them to the Communion Tent and immerse them in a Mikvah (special pool for ritual purity). He must then dress them in their appropriate garments and anoint Aharon (as Cohen Gadol) with the anointing oil. He must then offer sacrifices on their behalf to inaugurate them.
Moshe has to consecrate the altar with the daily Tamid sacrifice. He is also instructed to construct a second altar, to be of wood covered with gold. This altar is only to be used for offering incense, except for the Day of Atonement when the Cohen Gadol sprinkles blood of the Atonement sacrifice on it.
Parshat Tetzaveh
G-d instructs Moshe about the oil to be used for the Menorah. Moshe is told to separate Aharon and his sons to be the Cohanim (priests), and to make special garments for them to wear. The Ephod is only worn by the Cohen Gadol (High Priest), and is made out of six-coloured thread. It is an apron tied with a belt, and has two shoulder pads with two sardonyx stones on them, on which the names of the twelve tribes are engraved.
The Cohen Gadol also wears the Choshen Mishpat (Breastplate of Judgement). It has four rows with three precious stones in each row, each stone corresponding to one of the twelve tribes. The Urim V'Tummim (Lightings and Decisions) is placed inside the Ephod, and when worn by the Cohen Gadol can be consulted like an oracle. Next Moshe is instructed to make a robe for the Cohen Gadol. It is entirely techeilet (a shade of blue). At its base are "pomegranates" made of thread, interspersed with gold bells. The Cohen Gadol must also wear a Tzitz (forehead-plate) of pure gold, engraved with the words "Kadosh LaShem" (Holy to G-d). He also wears a linen tunic and a turban.
The regular Cohanim wear only tunics, sashes, turbans, and linen pants. These garments must be worn by the Cohanim whenever they perform the sacrifices in the Temple.
Moshe is instructed as to how to consecrate the Cohanim. Moshe must bring them to the Communion Tent and immerse them in a Mikvah (special pool for ritual purity). He must then dress them in their appropriate garments and anoint Aharon (as Cohen Gadol) with the anointing oil. He must then offer sacrifices on their behalf to inaugurate them.
Moshe has to consecrate the altar with the daily Tamid sacrifice. He is also instructed to construct a second altar, to be of wood covered with gold. This altar is only to be used for offering incense, except for the Day of Atonement when the Cohen Gadol sprinkles blood of the Atonement sacrifice on it.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Parshat Terumah 2
The holiest part of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) was the Aron (Ark), which contained the two sets of stone tablets. On top of the ark was the Kapores, the cover upon which two golden k’ruvim (cherubs) stood with their wings stretched upwards. G-d’s voice spoke to Moshe from between these two k’ruvim, as the verse says, “When Moshe came to the Ohel Mo’ed (Tabernacle) to speak to Him [G-d], he heard the voice speaking to him from above the Kapores that was on the Aron, from between the k’ruvim” (Bamidbar 7; 89).
Idolatry is abhorred by Judaism, and making any image is forbidden, yet in the holiest place we find G-d instructing Moshe to place a graven image of two k’ruvim.
After the sin of Adam and Eve, when they have been banished from the Garden of Eden, we also find k’ruvim: “And He [G-d] banished mankind and He placed to the East of Eden the k’ruvim, and the spinning, flaming sword to guard the way of the tree of life” (Bereishis 3; 24). If these angels are intended to keep people away from the Garden of Eden, why are these same angels the conduit for G-d to speak to the Children of Israel?
The two k’ruvim above the ark had the faces of a boy and a girl. The Talmud (Yoma 54b) relates: “When the non-Jews [Babylonians] entered the Holy of Holies, they saw that the k’ruvim were intertwined in an embrace. They carried them out to the market and declared: Israel, who’s blessing is a blessing and who’s curse is a curse, are involved in these sorts of things? Immediately they despised them [the Jews].” In the most holy of places why do we have such physical intimacy depicted?
The word Kapores means atonement, and that was the function of the cover of the ark. The command to build the Mishkan was a response to the sin of the Golden Calf. Had the Jews not been involved with that sin, each individual would have been worthy of having the Shechina (Divine Presence) rest within them. After the sin however, it was only as a nation that G-d dwelt among the Jews. The Kapores, the resting place of the Shechina, symbolised that atonement and forgiveness. The k’ruvim and the Kapores were formed from a single piece of gold. Therefore the k’ruvim stretching upwards out of the Kapores were the bridge between the people and G-d. This was the point where G-d showed His forgiveness and closeness with the Jewish nation.
Rambam explains (Laws of Idolatry, Ch. 1) that idolatry began when people prayed to intermediaries rather than to G-d directly. They reasoned that if G-d is so holy and separate from the earth, people should not approach Him directly; therefore they prayed to the stars and constellations as messengers of heaven. Gradually they forgot that the objects of their worship were only intermediaries, and began to worship them as gods. This is the reason that G-d forbade any graven image. However the k’ruvim represent the opposite of idol worship. After the sin of the Golden Calf, G-d no longer spoke directly to the nation, but the k’ruvim were the focus of speech from heaven to earth.
This explains the seemingly contradictory roles of the k’ruvim. On the one hand they guard the entrance to the Garden of Eden, to show that mankind are no longer able to speak to G-d directly. However they remain the link to the Garden, through which G-d communicates with Moshe and the Jews. Perhaps this is the meaning of the spinning sword, symbolising the dual function of preventing humans from entering, but allowing G-d’s message to be heard from without.
G-d’s message is the Torah, described in the Garden of Eden as the tree of life. The verse refers to the Torah as “A tree of life to them that grasp it” (Mishlei 3; 18). In the Mishkan, the k’ruvim were placed above the ark containing the Torah, with their wings stretched upwards. This showed that G-d’s communication for all time is the Torah, and that it is a taste of the Garden of Eden. The gateway between heaven and earth, between the Garden of Eden and the earthly Torah, is the most intimate place, the place of knowledge. Knowledge implies physical intimacy, as the Torah says (Bereishis 4; 1) “And Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived...”.
The only physical analogy that we can have of the loving relationship between G-d and the Jews is the love of a man and a woman. The k’ruvim symbolised this relationship. They depicted two youths, the time when love is most passionate. The moment when the Jews encountered G-d at Mount Sinai is described as a bride entering the wedding canopy. This love was eternalised in the k’ruvim. The other nations saw pornography, but the Jews understood the spiritual metaphor, which led them to yearn to cleave closer to G-d. The Talmud says (Yoma 54a) “When the Jews came for the pilgrimage festivals they would open the curtain and show them the k’ruvim who were embracing one another. They would say, See the love between G-d and the Jews, like the love of a man and a woman. ”
Rabbi Akiva said (Yadayim 3; 5) “All of scripture is holy, but the Song of Songs is the holy of holies”, yet it was almost banned (Avos d’Rebbe Nasan I) because it depicts the relationship between G-d and the Jews as the love of a man and a woman. There was a concern that it would be misunderstood as inappropriate Biblical literature. This is exactly the mistake that the nations made when they saw the k’ruvim .Rather than despising the Jews, they should have understood the metaphor, and been awed at the strength of their relationship with G-d.
Idolatry is abhorred by Judaism, and making any image is forbidden, yet in the holiest place we find G-d instructing Moshe to place a graven image of two k’ruvim.
After the sin of Adam and Eve, when they have been banished from the Garden of Eden, we also find k’ruvim: “And He [G-d] banished mankind and He placed to the East of Eden the k’ruvim, and the spinning, flaming sword to guard the way of the tree of life” (Bereishis 3; 24). If these angels are intended to keep people away from the Garden of Eden, why are these same angels the conduit for G-d to speak to the Children of Israel?
The two k’ruvim above the ark had the faces of a boy and a girl. The Talmud (Yoma 54b) relates: “When the non-Jews [Babylonians] entered the Holy of Holies, they saw that the k’ruvim were intertwined in an embrace. They carried them out to the market and declared: Israel, who’s blessing is a blessing and who’s curse is a curse, are involved in these sorts of things? Immediately they despised them [the Jews].” In the most holy of places why do we have such physical intimacy depicted?
The word Kapores means atonement, and that was the function of the cover of the ark. The command to build the Mishkan was a response to the sin of the Golden Calf. Had the Jews not been involved with that sin, each individual would have been worthy of having the Shechina (Divine Presence) rest within them. After the sin however, it was only as a nation that G-d dwelt among the Jews. The Kapores, the resting place of the Shechina, symbolised that atonement and forgiveness. The k’ruvim and the Kapores were formed from a single piece of gold. Therefore the k’ruvim stretching upwards out of the Kapores were the bridge between the people and G-d. This was the point where G-d showed His forgiveness and closeness with the Jewish nation.
Rambam explains (Laws of Idolatry, Ch. 1) that idolatry began when people prayed to intermediaries rather than to G-d directly. They reasoned that if G-d is so holy and separate from the earth, people should not approach Him directly; therefore they prayed to the stars and constellations as messengers of heaven. Gradually they forgot that the objects of their worship were only intermediaries, and began to worship them as gods. This is the reason that G-d forbade any graven image. However the k’ruvim represent the opposite of idol worship. After the sin of the Golden Calf, G-d no longer spoke directly to the nation, but the k’ruvim were the focus of speech from heaven to earth.
This explains the seemingly contradictory roles of the k’ruvim. On the one hand they guard the entrance to the Garden of Eden, to show that mankind are no longer able to speak to G-d directly. However they remain the link to the Garden, through which G-d communicates with Moshe and the Jews. Perhaps this is the meaning of the spinning sword, symbolising the dual function of preventing humans from entering, but allowing G-d’s message to be heard from without.
G-d’s message is the Torah, described in the Garden of Eden as the tree of life. The verse refers to the Torah as “A tree of life to them that grasp it” (Mishlei 3; 18). In the Mishkan, the k’ruvim were placed above the ark containing the Torah, with their wings stretched upwards. This showed that G-d’s communication for all time is the Torah, and that it is a taste of the Garden of Eden. The gateway between heaven and earth, between the Garden of Eden and the earthly Torah, is the most intimate place, the place of knowledge. Knowledge implies physical intimacy, as the Torah says (Bereishis 4; 1) “And Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived...”.
The only physical analogy that we can have of the loving relationship between G-d and the Jews is the love of a man and a woman. The k’ruvim symbolised this relationship. They depicted two youths, the time when love is most passionate. The moment when the Jews encountered G-d at Mount Sinai is described as a bride entering the wedding canopy. This love was eternalised in the k’ruvim. The other nations saw pornography, but the Jews understood the spiritual metaphor, which led them to yearn to cleave closer to G-d. The Talmud says (Yoma 54a) “When the Jews came for the pilgrimage festivals they would open the curtain and show them the k’ruvim who were embracing one another. They would say, See the love between G-d and the Jews, like the love of a man and a woman. ”
Rabbi Akiva said (Yadayim 3; 5) “All of scripture is holy, but the Song of Songs is the holy of holies”, yet it was almost banned (Avos d’Rebbe Nasan I) because it depicts the relationship between G-d and the Jews as the love of a man and a woman. There was a concern that it would be misunderstood as inappropriate Biblical literature. This is exactly the mistake that the nations made when they saw the k’ruvim .Rather than despising the Jews, they should have understood the metaphor, and been awed at the strength of their relationship with G-d.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Parshat Terumah 1
For my translation of selections from Tosefet Bracha click the link.
D'var Torah on Pershat Terumah by Rabbi David Sedley
Last week’s Torah reading ended with Moshe ascending Mount Sinai to receive the entirety of the Torah from G-d. Chronologically, the next thing that should occur in the Torah is the building of the Golden Calf. This takes place forty days later, and forces Moshe to make a hasty descent with the two tablets of stone, and smash them. But the Torah makes us wait another two weeks, until Ki Tissa, before continuing with the plot. In between we have what seems like a digression, detailing the plans for the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, and all of its ornaments and utensils. Obviously the Torah was not compiled in a haphazard, random fashion, so why did G-d feel that it was most appropriate to place these two portions here?
Three of the pieces of furniture in the Mishkan - the Ark containing the stone tablets, the altar, and the table - share a common feature. They each have rings at their sides, into which the poles used for carrying them are placed. But the poles of the Ark are unique, in that there is an explicit prohibition in ever removing them from their rings. Even after the Temple was built in Jerusalem, these poles remained in place. Why should our holiest object require portability as part of its design? Clearly it was not simply for the sake of portability. Furthermore, the total weight of the Ark must have been several tons, far more than four people could carry on their shoulders. In fact, the Levites who were carrying the Ark gave the appearance of bearing the weight of the poles on their shoulders, but were actually holding on as the Ark miraculously transported them. Although it appeared that the Ark was being carried, actually it was doing the carrying!
We have a principle that G-d always presents us, as a nation, with the cure, before afflicting us with the disease. One example of this is the story of Esther. The Megilla first relates how Esther came to be queen and how Mordechai saved the life of Ahasuerus, and only then begins with Haman’s plot to destroy the Jews. Thus the mechanism for our salvation was in place before its need actually arose.
So too in our parsha. Had the Jews not built the Golden Calf, they would have remained on the tremendously high spiritual level that they attained at Mount Sinai. There would have been no need for all of the trials and tribulations which we have had to face since then, the purpose of which is to bring us back to G-d. When Moshe goes back up Mount Sinai to plead with G-d not to destroy the nation, he is actually creating Jewish history. He beseeches G-d to be merciful and to spread out our punishment over time, instead of wiping us out on the spot. To this day we are still paying back part of that debt.
The need for a history of anti-Semitism, hatred and pogroms, was caused by the building of the Golden Calf. Our exile from the Holy Land was decreed then. But in order to be able to survive this harsh decree, we could not be tied to a Temple, or to a city. G-d, and the Torah, must be accessible anywhere that we may find ourselves; otherwise we could never continue to exist as a nation in exile.
Therefore G-d decreed that we should build ourselves a Mishkan, a portable Sanctuary, which will follow us wherever we go. And the Ark containing the two tablets, the embodiment of Torah, must be ready to go at any moment. The need for portability and mobility is not because G-d has no other means of transportation available to Him, but rather to teach us that at all times and places the Torah is available to us. If we are prepared to carry its burden, which may appear cumbersome and heavy, it will in fact carry and sustain us throughout our journeys.
There were two Temples in Jerusalem. The first was destroyed by the Babylonians, the second by the Romans. We cannot depend upon them for long lasting security. But the Mishkan was never destroyed. It was buried, and remains hidden to this day, somewhere on the Temple Mount. It is indestructible, and is a metaphor for our continued existence, and connection to G-d. The Ark is portable, and accompanies us through our long and difficult exile.
D'var Torah on Pershat Terumah by Rabbi David Sedley
Last week’s Torah reading ended with Moshe ascending Mount Sinai to receive the entirety of the Torah from G-d. Chronologically, the next thing that should occur in the Torah is the building of the Golden Calf. This takes place forty days later, and forces Moshe to make a hasty descent with the two tablets of stone, and smash them. But the Torah makes us wait another two weeks, until Ki Tissa, before continuing with the plot. In between we have what seems like a digression, detailing the plans for the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, and all of its ornaments and utensils. Obviously the Torah was not compiled in a haphazard, random fashion, so why did G-d feel that it was most appropriate to place these two portions here?
Three of the pieces of furniture in the Mishkan - the Ark containing the stone tablets, the altar, and the table - share a common feature. They each have rings at their sides, into which the poles used for carrying them are placed. But the poles of the Ark are unique, in that there is an explicit prohibition in ever removing them from their rings. Even after the Temple was built in Jerusalem, these poles remained in place. Why should our holiest object require portability as part of its design? Clearly it was not simply for the sake of portability. Furthermore, the total weight of the Ark must have been several tons, far more than four people could carry on their shoulders. In fact, the Levites who were carrying the Ark gave the appearance of bearing the weight of the poles on their shoulders, but were actually holding on as the Ark miraculously transported them. Although it appeared that the Ark was being carried, actually it was doing the carrying!
We have a principle that G-d always presents us, as a nation, with the cure, before afflicting us with the disease. One example of this is the story of Esther. The Megilla first relates how Esther came to be queen and how Mordechai saved the life of Ahasuerus, and only then begins with Haman’s plot to destroy the Jews. Thus the mechanism for our salvation was in place before its need actually arose.
So too in our parsha. Had the Jews not built the Golden Calf, they would have remained on the tremendously high spiritual level that they attained at Mount Sinai. There would have been no need for all of the trials and tribulations which we have had to face since then, the purpose of which is to bring us back to G-d. When Moshe goes back up Mount Sinai to plead with G-d not to destroy the nation, he is actually creating Jewish history. He beseeches G-d to be merciful and to spread out our punishment over time, instead of wiping us out on the spot. To this day we are still paying back part of that debt.
The need for a history of anti-Semitism, hatred and pogroms, was caused by the building of the Golden Calf. Our exile from the Holy Land was decreed then. But in order to be able to survive this harsh decree, we could not be tied to a Temple, or to a city. G-d, and the Torah, must be accessible anywhere that we may find ourselves; otherwise we could never continue to exist as a nation in exile.
Therefore G-d decreed that we should build ourselves a Mishkan, a portable Sanctuary, which will follow us wherever we go. And the Ark containing the two tablets, the embodiment of Torah, must be ready to go at any moment. The need for portability and mobility is not because G-d has no other means of transportation available to Him, but rather to teach us that at all times and places the Torah is available to us. If we are prepared to carry its burden, which may appear cumbersome and heavy, it will in fact carry and sustain us throughout our journeys.
There were two Temples in Jerusalem. The first was destroyed by the Babylonians, the second by the Romans. We cannot depend upon them for long lasting security. But the Mishkan was never destroyed. It was buried, and remains hidden to this day, somewhere on the Temple Mount. It is indestructible, and is a metaphor for our continued existence, and connection to G-d. The Ark is portable, and accompanies us through our long and difficult exile.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Terumah Summary
G-d instructs Moshe to collect the materials that are needed to build the Sanctuary. He gives exact details on how the Tabernacle and other furnishings are to be made.
Moshe is instructed how to build the Ark of Testimony. It is to be made of wood, and covered within and without with gold. It has rings attached, and poles which are inserted in them with which to carry it. There is a golden cover for the Ark, on which two golden cherubs are standing with their wings outstretched. The tablets will be placed in the Ark, and the cover placed on top.
The table is also made of wood covered with gold; it too has rings and poles for carrying. On it are placed the showbreads, which are baked in special moulds that give them two "faces". The menorah is to be made of pure gold. It has six branches extending out from a central stem, each of which faces back towards a central flame.
These three items are to be placed in the Tabernacle itself. The Tabernacle is a tent, constructed of tapestries covered with a layer of goat's wool. These are draped over a frame of wooden beams. The Tabernacle is to be 30 cubits (about 45') in length, and 12 cubits (18') in width. Within this Tabernacle is to be a partition to separate the "Holy of Holies", which contains the Ark, and the "Holy" containing the table and menorah and incense altar. The partition is to be of sky-blue tapestry, with cherubs woven into it.
Moshe is instructed to build an altar for animal sacrifices. This is to be made of wood, and is to be 5 cubits x 5 cubits x 3 cubits (7.5' x 7.5' x 4.5'). It also has rings and poles for carrying. The altar is to be placed outside the Tabernacle, and both the Tabernacle and altar are to be surrounded by an enclosure. The enclosure is to be 5 cubits high (7.5') made of woven tapestry, and will measure 100 cubits x 50 cubits (150' x 75').
Moshe is instructed how to build the Ark of Testimony. It is to be made of wood, and covered within and without with gold. It has rings attached, and poles which are inserted in them with which to carry it. There is a golden cover for the Ark, on which two golden cherubs are standing with their wings outstretched. The tablets will be placed in the Ark, and the cover placed on top.
The table is also made of wood covered with gold; it too has rings and poles for carrying. On it are placed the showbreads, which are baked in special moulds that give them two "faces". The menorah is to be made of pure gold. It has six branches extending out from a central stem, each of which faces back towards a central flame.
These three items are to be placed in the Tabernacle itself. The Tabernacle is a tent, constructed of tapestries covered with a layer of goat's wool. These are draped over a frame of wooden beams. The Tabernacle is to be 30 cubits (about 45') in length, and 12 cubits (18') in width. Within this Tabernacle is to be a partition to separate the "Holy of Holies", which contains the Ark, and the "Holy" containing the table and menorah and incense altar. The partition is to be of sky-blue tapestry, with cherubs woven into it.
Moshe is instructed to build an altar for animal sacrifices. This is to be made of wood, and is to be 5 cubits x 5 cubits x 3 cubits (7.5' x 7.5' x 4.5'). It also has rings and poles for carrying. The altar is to be placed outside the Tabernacle, and both the Tabernacle and altar are to be surrounded by an enclosure. The enclosure is to be 5 cubits high (7.5') made of woven tapestry, and will measure 100 cubits x 50 cubits (150' x 75').
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Parshat Mishpatim 3
After a lengthy list of laws and statutes, the Torah portion returns to the narrative of the Jews standing at the foot of Mount Sinai. G-d tells Moshe, “Behold I will send my angel to go before you, to guard you on the way, and to bring you to the place which I have prepared” (Exodus 23; 20). Rashi explains that G-d here warns Moshe and the people that they will come to sin with the Golden Calf, and instead of G-d leading them directly, He will direct the nation through the intermediary of an angel. This is what we find in the Torah after the sin of the Calf, G-d says to Moshe, “Now go and lead the people, to that which I spoke to you. Behold my angel will go before you...” (ibid. 32; 34).
We have a principle that Heavenly punishment always fits the crime, and this is indeed the case here. At the time of the Golden Calf the nation were afraid that Moshe had been killed, and would not return. Therefore they wanted another leader, to act as an intermediary between them and G-d. They said to Aharon, “Make for us a god (or judge) that will go before us, for this man Moshe, who brought us out from the land of Egypt, we know not what has become of him.” (ibid. 1). They did not consider Moshe divine, rather a leader who was an intermediary between them and G-d. Similarly the concept behind the Calf was for to have an intermediary, not a god. Only after it was built did some of the people begin to worship the Calf itself, and proclaim it as a god.
However, even asking for an intermediary deserved punishment. When the people heard G-d at Mount Sinai they were afraid, and asked Moshe, “’You speak to us and we shall hear; let not G-d speak to us lest we die’. Moshe said to the people, ‘Do not fear, for in order to elevate you has G-d come...’” (ibid. 20; 16-17). Moshe rebuked the people for not wanting this direct contact with G-d. In fact we find that the desire for intermediaries was the origin of idolatry in the world. The Rambam writes (Mishneh Torah, Laws of Idol Worship, 1; 1) that in the generation of Enosh the people made a grievous error. They reasoned that it was not appropriate to pray directly to G-d, but they should instead pray to Him via the celestial luminaries that He had placed before him. Over the generations this led to forgetting that these were only intermediaries, and the people began worshipping them as gods.
So, from the outset, the building of the Golden Calf was bound to end in disaster. Though the Jews were only seeking an intermediary, that was itself a sin that would inevitably lead to idolatry. Therefore as punishment G-d told them that He would not be in their midst, but would only relate to them through an angel.
The Ramban points out that this punishment of ‘I will send an angel before you’ never took place. Moshe pleaded for mercy, “If Your presence will not go with us, do not take us out from here...” (ibid. 33; 15), and G-d consented when He said, “I will also do this thing that you have spoken” (ibid. 17). Although this decree did not take place in Moshe’s lifetime, it was fulfilled immediately after his death. Just before Yehoshua led the nation to do battle with Jericho the Bible states, “And it came to pass, when Yehoshua was by Jericho, that he lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold there stood a man over him… and he said, ‘I am captain of the host of the Eternal, I am now come’.” (Joshua 5; 13-14). The Midrash Tanchuma (Mishpatim 18) explains: “The angel said to Yehoshua, ‘I am he who came in the days of Moshe your master, and he pushed me away and did not want me to go with them.’”. After Moshe’s death, G-d’s relationship with the nation changed, from being direct, to being only through an intermediary.
However, it seems strange that the Israelites were punished for wanting an intermediary, when at the end of this week’s Torah portion we find that they are not able to cope with direct revelation. “Go up to G-d, you [Moshe], Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel, and you shall prostrate yourselves from a distance… Moshe, Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, and seventy of the elders ascended. They saw the G-d of Israel… G-d did not stretch out His hand [to punish] the great men of Israel - they gazed at G-d, yet they ate and drank.” (Exodus 24; 1-11). Rashi explains that G-d did not punish them on the spot, though they were worthy of punishment for gazing at Him. However, G-d delayed their punishment so as not to detract from the sanctity of Mount Sinai. The reason that they were punished was for staring at G-d while they were eating and drinking. They were unable to attain the proper level of spirituality but instead were sunk in their material actions. We see from here that even the leaders of the Israelites, with the exception of Moshe and Aharon, were unable to cope with such a direct relationship with G-d. Why then were they punished for wanting an intermediary?
The answer must be that their need for an intermediary was real, and thus their attempt to find one valid. However, their mistake was in settling for this lesser relationship with G-d instead of trying to elevate themselves spiritually to a level where they would be able to sustain a direct relationship. As long as they were in the desert, under the influence of Moshe, they were able to have G-d’s presence in their midst. But as soon as Moshe was no longer with them, instead of remaining on this spiritual level the people settled for intermediaries to lead them. The angel coming was not so much a punishment as it was the inevitable result of the people’s actions and spiritual level.
We have a principle that Heavenly punishment always fits the crime, and this is indeed the case here. At the time of the Golden Calf the nation were afraid that Moshe had been killed, and would not return. Therefore they wanted another leader, to act as an intermediary between them and G-d. They said to Aharon, “Make for us a god (or judge) that will go before us, for this man Moshe, who brought us out from the land of Egypt, we know not what has become of him.” (ibid. 1). They did not consider Moshe divine, rather a leader who was an intermediary between them and G-d. Similarly the concept behind the Calf was for to have an intermediary, not a god. Only after it was built did some of the people begin to worship the Calf itself, and proclaim it as a god.
However, even asking for an intermediary deserved punishment. When the people heard G-d at Mount Sinai they were afraid, and asked Moshe, “’You speak to us and we shall hear; let not G-d speak to us lest we die’. Moshe said to the people, ‘Do not fear, for in order to elevate you has G-d come...’” (ibid. 20; 16-17). Moshe rebuked the people for not wanting this direct contact with G-d. In fact we find that the desire for intermediaries was the origin of idolatry in the world. The Rambam writes (Mishneh Torah, Laws of Idol Worship, 1; 1) that in the generation of Enosh the people made a grievous error. They reasoned that it was not appropriate to pray directly to G-d, but they should instead pray to Him via the celestial luminaries that He had placed before him. Over the generations this led to forgetting that these were only intermediaries, and the people began worshipping them as gods.
So, from the outset, the building of the Golden Calf was bound to end in disaster. Though the Jews were only seeking an intermediary, that was itself a sin that would inevitably lead to idolatry. Therefore as punishment G-d told them that He would not be in their midst, but would only relate to them through an angel.
The Ramban points out that this punishment of ‘I will send an angel before you’ never took place. Moshe pleaded for mercy, “If Your presence will not go with us, do not take us out from here...” (ibid. 33; 15), and G-d consented when He said, “I will also do this thing that you have spoken” (ibid. 17). Although this decree did not take place in Moshe’s lifetime, it was fulfilled immediately after his death. Just before Yehoshua led the nation to do battle with Jericho the Bible states, “And it came to pass, when Yehoshua was by Jericho, that he lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold there stood a man over him… and he said, ‘I am captain of the host of the Eternal, I am now come’.” (Joshua 5; 13-14). The Midrash Tanchuma (Mishpatim 18) explains: “The angel said to Yehoshua, ‘I am he who came in the days of Moshe your master, and he pushed me away and did not want me to go with them.’”. After Moshe’s death, G-d’s relationship with the nation changed, from being direct, to being only through an intermediary.
However, it seems strange that the Israelites were punished for wanting an intermediary, when at the end of this week’s Torah portion we find that they are not able to cope with direct revelation. “Go up to G-d, you [Moshe], Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel, and you shall prostrate yourselves from a distance… Moshe, Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, and seventy of the elders ascended. They saw the G-d of Israel… G-d did not stretch out His hand [to punish] the great men of Israel - they gazed at G-d, yet they ate and drank.” (Exodus 24; 1-11). Rashi explains that G-d did not punish them on the spot, though they were worthy of punishment for gazing at Him. However, G-d delayed their punishment so as not to detract from the sanctity of Mount Sinai. The reason that they were punished was for staring at G-d while they were eating and drinking. They were unable to attain the proper level of spirituality but instead were sunk in their material actions. We see from here that even the leaders of the Israelites, with the exception of Moshe and Aharon, were unable to cope with such a direct relationship with G-d. Why then were they punished for wanting an intermediary?
The answer must be that their need for an intermediary was real, and thus their attempt to find one valid. However, their mistake was in settling for this lesser relationship with G-d instead of trying to elevate themselves spiritually to a level where they would be able to sustain a direct relationship. As long as they were in the desert, under the influence of Moshe, they were able to have G-d’s presence in their midst. But as soon as Moshe was no longer with them, instead of remaining on this spiritual level the people settled for intermediaries to lead them. The angel coming was not so much a punishment as it was the inevitable result of the people’s actions and spiritual level.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Parshat Mishpatim 2
Our Torah reading opens with the words “And these are the judgements that you shall place before them”. Rashi comments: Wherever it says ‘These’ in the Torah it rejects that which has been stated previously. Wherever it says ‘And these’ it adds to that which has been stated previously. Just as those which have been stated previously, [the Ten Commandments] are from Sinai, so too, these commandments are from Sinai.
Why does Rashi need to tell us that the laws contained in this portion were also given at Sinai? Surely the entirety of the Torah was given by G-d to Moshe at Sinai, why does Rashi single out this section?
‘Mishpatim’, the name of the portion, also describes the laws contained in it. There is almost no narrative, only a seemingly haphazard collection of laws. However most of those laws are logical, and clearly understandable as necessary precepts for the functioning of a just society. All the Mitzvoth in the Torah can be divided into two main groups, the Chukim (statutes) and the Mishpatim (laws). Chukim are rules for which we see no apparent logical reason, for example Shatnez, the prohibition on mixing wool and linen in garments. Mishpatim are laws that would probably have been formulated, even without the Torah, for society to function smoothly.
Therefore Rashi comes to tell us that the laws in this section are not merely the result of societal norms, but are also Divine in origin. There is no qualitative difference between the laws of Kashrut or Shabbat, and those of theft or damages.
Why was it necessary for G-d to give us laws that we would have been able to formulate for ourselves even without the Torah? As the Talmud (Eruvin 100b) states: Rabbi Yochanan said, ‘If the Torah had not been given we would have learnt modesty from a cat, [the prohibition of] theft from an ant, sexual prohibitions from a dove and laws of marital relations from a chicken’. Why did G-d deem it necessary to write these laws which we could have discovered for ourselves?
The Mishna (Makkos 3; 16) says: Rabbi Chanania ben Akashya says ‘G-d wanted to give merit to Israel, therefore He increased for them Torah and Mitzvoth, as it says (Yishayah 42; 21) “G-d desired for the sake of His righteousness to magnify the Torah and make it glorious”. Rambam in his commentary to the Mishna explains: It is amongst the foundations of faith that when a person observes one of the 613 commandments properly, and does not have any intention other than to fulfil it out of love for the Creator… behold they will merit through it eternal life in the world to come. About this Rabbi Chanania said that because there are so many Mitzvoth it is impossible that a person will not perform at least one of them in their lifetime with the proper intention, and through that performance will gain eternal life.
By giving us a combination of logical laws and commandments which are beyond our comprehension, G-d ensured that we would be able to fulfil at least some of them properly, and thus earn our eternal reward.
However it is important to bear in mind that the reason that some laws seem to make more sense to us than others is because G-d created us with a finite degree of logic. The definition of some laws as Mishpatim and some as Chukim is almost arbitrary. All of the Torah is G-d’s plan for the universe, and the observance of the laws facilitates the proper functioning of the world.
However, had it all been logical it would have been difficult to keep the laws purely because G-d so instructed us. Had none of it been comprehensible to us we would have not understood that there is a purpose in the universe. By creating us with imperfect understanding, G-d has given us the opportunity to keep part of the Torah because we understand it, and part of it out of pure love for G-d with no ulterior motive.
Why does Rashi need to tell us that the laws contained in this portion were also given at Sinai? Surely the entirety of the Torah was given by G-d to Moshe at Sinai, why does Rashi single out this section?
‘Mishpatim’, the name of the portion, also describes the laws contained in it. There is almost no narrative, only a seemingly haphazard collection of laws. However most of those laws are logical, and clearly understandable as necessary precepts for the functioning of a just society. All the Mitzvoth in the Torah can be divided into two main groups, the Chukim (statutes) and the Mishpatim (laws). Chukim are rules for which we see no apparent logical reason, for example Shatnez, the prohibition on mixing wool and linen in garments. Mishpatim are laws that would probably have been formulated, even without the Torah, for society to function smoothly.
Therefore Rashi comes to tell us that the laws in this section are not merely the result of societal norms, but are also Divine in origin. There is no qualitative difference between the laws of Kashrut or Shabbat, and those of theft or damages.
Why was it necessary for G-d to give us laws that we would have been able to formulate for ourselves even without the Torah? As the Talmud (Eruvin 100b) states: Rabbi Yochanan said, ‘If the Torah had not been given we would have learnt modesty from a cat, [the prohibition of] theft from an ant, sexual prohibitions from a dove and laws of marital relations from a chicken’. Why did G-d deem it necessary to write these laws which we could have discovered for ourselves?
The Mishna (Makkos 3; 16) says: Rabbi Chanania ben Akashya says ‘G-d wanted to give merit to Israel, therefore He increased for them Torah and Mitzvoth, as it says (Yishayah 42; 21) “G-d desired for the sake of His righteousness to magnify the Torah and make it glorious”. Rambam in his commentary to the Mishna explains: It is amongst the foundations of faith that when a person observes one of the 613 commandments properly, and does not have any intention other than to fulfil it out of love for the Creator… behold they will merit through it eternal life in the world to come. About this Rabbi Chanania said that because there are so many Mitzvoth it is impossible that a person will not perform at least one of them in their lifetime with the proper intention, and through that performance will gain eternal life.
By giving us a combination of logical laws and commandments which are beyond our comprehension, G-d ensured that we would be able to fulfil at least some of them properly, and thus earn our eternal reward.
However it is important to bear in mind that the reason that some laws seem to make more sense to us than others is because G-d created us with a finite degree of logic. The definition of some laws as Mishpatim and some as Chukim is almost arbitrary. All of the Torah is G-d’s plan for the universe, and the observance of the laws facilitates the proper functioning of the world.
However, had it all been logical it would have been difficult to keep the laws purely because G-d so instructed us. Had none of it been comprehensible to us we would have not understood that there is a purpose in the universe. By creating us with imperfect understanding, G-d has given us the opportunity to keep part of the Torah because we understand it, and part of it out of pure love for G-d with no ulterior motive.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Parshat Mishpatim 1
Looking at this week’s Torah reading, one would think that the Jewish Nation was made up primarily of murderers, thieves, violent criminals and other social miscreants. Why else would the Torah need to spend so much time enumerating all of the different types of crimes and their punishments? Not only the Written Torah, but also the Oral Law contains detailed discussions of criminal offences and legalities. One complete Order of the Mishna, one sixth of the Oral Law, is entitled Nezikin (damages) and deals with the power of the Beis Din (the courts) to punish infringements of the laws.
Yet it is common knowledge that, far from being the violent criminals portrayed through this legislation, the Jews have consistently been seen to be moral, just and honest. The Western World owes Judaism a huge debt for introducing many concepts that now form the basis of our society.
The Talmud (Bava Kama 30a) states that someone who wants to become a Chasid (literally, G-d Fearing), should devote himself to studying the laws of Nezikin. Not only do these criminal laws not make us criminals, but they actually make us more moral. The constant involvement with, and awareness of, the rights of others, makes a person think about his or her own actions, and take exceeding care not to infringe upon those rights.
This can be seen through the famous, but often misunderstood, law of “Ayin Tachas Ayin”, mistranslated as “An eye for an eye”. The word Tachas does not mean “for”, but rather “in place of”. Therefore, the Torah is not telling us that the punishment for injuring another’s sight is to lose one’s own sight; that would certainly not be a replacement for the injured party. In reality, each individual’s eyesight has a different value. A microbiologist who spends all day looking through a microscope would give his sight a certain value, while a musician would give a completely different value to his sight. Taking away a damager’s eyesight, therefore, would not be “in place of” the injury he caused. The Torah must be referring instead, to monetary compensation for damages inflicted to others.
If the Torah is only referring to financial payments, why did it use the language of paying with the damagers physical body? It must be in order to teach us the severity of the crime, and the significance of putting ourselves in the place of others, thus doing our utmost to avoid harming them.
The Torah does not present these laws as compensation for the injured party. We do not have a system of suing people for any perceived wrong. Rather G-d is instructing anyone who is involved in activities which could injure others, to be aware of the dangers involved in his actions. “Ve’ahavta l’re’echa kamocha”, “Love your neighbour just as much as yourself”; as much as one looks out for one’s own rights, so too a person must be concerned to guard the rights of others.
Yet it is common knowledge that, far from being the violent criminals portrayed through this legislation, the Jews have consistently been seen to be moral, just and honest. The Western World owes Judaism a huge debt for introducing many concepts that now form the basis of our society.
The Talmud (Bava Kama 30a) states that someone who wants to become a Chasid (literally, G-d Fearing), should devote himself to studying the laws of Nezikin. Not only do these criminal laws not make us criminals, but they actually make us more moral. The constant involvement with, and awareness of, the rights of others, makes a person think about his or her own actions, and take exceeding care not to infringe upon those rights.
This can be seen through the famous, but often misunderstood, law of “Ayin Tachas Ayin”, mistranslated as “An eye for an eye”. The word Tachas does not mean “for”, but rather “in place of”. Therefore, the Torah is not telling us that the punishment for injuring another’s sight is to lose one’s own sight; that would certainly not be a replacement for the injured party. In reality, each individual’s eyesight has a different value. A microbiologist who spends all day looking through a microscope would give his sight a certain value, while a musician would give a completely different value to his sight. Taking away a damager’s eyesight, therefore, would not be “in place of” the injury he caused. The Torah must be referring instead, to monetary compensation for damages inflicted to others.
If the Torah is only referring to financial payments, why did it use the language of paying with the damagers physical body? It must be in order to teach us the severity of the crime, and the significance of putting ourselves in the place of others, thus doing our utmost to avoid harming them.
The Torah does not present these laws as compensation for the injured party. We do not have a system of suing people for any perceived wrong. Rather G-d is instructing anyone who is involved in activities which could injure others, to be aware of the dangers involved in his actions. “Ve’ahavta l’re’echa kamocha”, “Love your neighbour just as much as yourself”; as much as one looks out for one’s own rights, so too a person must be concerned to guard the rights of others.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Mishpatim Summary
For my translation of selections from Tosefet Bracha (by R' Baruch HaLevi Epstein) on Mishpatim click here
Summary of the Parsha
This week's Torah reading lists many of the damage and interpersonal laws. Some of the laws given are those concerning manslaughter and murder, kidnapping and stealing, injuring or cursing a parent, personal injury or damages, and killing or injuring slaves. The nation are also given laws concerning animals, damage by grazing, or by fire, the laws of custodians, and money lending. Other laws include those dealing with a man who seduces a woman, occult practices, and idolatry. We are commanded not to oppress widows or orphans and are obligated to lend money to the poor. We must accept the authority of the judges, bring the first of our produce and animals to G-d, and not pervert the system of justice. We are instructed to return lost objects and help unload an animal that is unable to carry its burden.
We are given the laws of Sh'mita, when we let the land lie fallow every seventh year. We are instructed not to oppress converts, and are told the laws of Shabbat and the three agricultural festivals. G-d tells us that He will send an angel before us to lead us into Israel, and warns us of the dangers and temptations that will face us once we enter the land. G-d promises to bless us and our children, and to help us conquer the Land of Israel.
Moshe relates all of these laws to the rest of the nation, and they unconditionally accept them. Moshe and the people offer sacrifices as a sign that they have entered into a covenant with G-d to accept the Torah.
The Parsha ends with the conclusion of the Receiving of the Torah. G-d calls Moshe to ascend Mount Sinai. The nation watch as he ascends into the clouds and smoke which cover the mountain top. Moshe remains there for forty days and nights.
Summary of the Parsha
This week's Torah reading lists many of the damage and interpersonal laws. Some of the laws given are those concerning manslaughter and murder, kidnapping and stealing, injuring or cursing a parent, personal injury or damages, and killing or injuring slaves. The nation are also given laws concerning animals, damage by grazing, or by fire, the laws of custodians, and money lending. Other laws include those dealing with a man who seduces a woman, occult practices, and idolatry. We are commanded not to oppress widows or orphans and are obligated to lend money to the poor. We must accept the authority of the judges, bring the first of our produce and animals to G-d, and not pervert the system of justice. We are instructed to return lost objects and help unload an animal that is unable to carry its burden.
We are given the laws of Sh'mita, when we let the land lie fallow every seventh year. We are instructed not to oppress converts, and are told the laws of Shabbat and the three agricultural festivals. G-d tells us that He will send an angel before us to lead us into Israel, and warns us of the dangers and temptations that will face us once we enter the land. G-d promises to bless us and our children, and to help us conquer the Land of Israel.
Moshe relates all of these laws to the rest of the nation, and they unconditionally accept them. Moshe and the people offer sacrifices as a sign that they have entered into a covenant with G-d to accept the Torah.
The Parsha ends with the conclusion of the Receiving of the Torah. G-d calls Moshe to ascend Mount Sinai. The nation watch as he ascends into the clouds and smoke which cover the mountain top. Moshe remains there for forty days and nights.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Yitro 3
The Ten Commandments can be divided simply into two groups. The first five deal with the relationship between mankind and G-d - “I am the L-rd your G-d...”, “You shall have no other gods before Me...” etc. The second five commandments, those on the second tablet, are about our responsibilities to our fellow man - “Do not murder”, “Do not steal”, “Do not commit adultery” etc. The only problem with this classification is the fifth commandment; although supposedly in the ‘man and G-d’ category, the commandment to “Honour your mother and father” appears to be purely interpersonal.
Furthermore, why is this one of the “Ten Commandments” anyway? The rest of the ten deal with major concepts vital to the stability of society or to our relationship with G-d. Honouring parents seems both trivial and so obvious that it need not be stated. And why does the Torah explicitly give the reward for this Mitzvah, “In order that you should....”. Surely every child must feel a sense of gratitude and debt to his or her parents, not only for physically bringing them into this world, but also for all the investment of time and love that their parents have made. Is one not “forced” to honour one’s parents even without any explicit command to do so?
The Sefer HaChinuch4 explains the commandment of honouring parents:
It is appropriate for a person to recognise and perform kindness to someone who has done kindness to him, and not be a scoundrel, estrange himself, and deny that goodness. For this is a very bad and disgusting trait in its essence both before G-d and people. A person should make himself aware that his father and mother are the cause of his existence in the world, and therefore it is truly appropriate for him to give to his parents every honour and every help that is possible. Because they brought him into this world and put every effort into him when he was a child. When a person fixes this trait into his character he will then be able to recognise the good that G-d has performed for him, that He is the reason he exists, and the reason for all his parents and grandparents back to Adam and Eve. And that G-d brought him into this world, provided for all his daily needs and keeps him in health and working order. And He gave him a cognitive and understanding soul, without which he would be like an animal without consciousness of self. Therefore a person should organise in his thoughts how appropriate it is for him to be scrupulous in serving G-d.
From this text we see that our assumptions were wrong. While it is true and obvious that we owe our parents honour and respect for all that they have done for us, this is not the reason that G-d commands it of us. The real question is why G-d created the world in such a way that people have parents, and require so much input for so many years. Surely He could have made us spontaneously generate, or at least have independence immediately after birth, like almost every other species. This commandment is telling us that the reason that G-d created human beings as dependent upon their parents, is in order that we can also recognise our dependence upon Him. Therefore the Mitzvah of honouring our parents rightly belongs on the first tablet with our other responsibilities toward G-d. That interpersonal component of honouring parents is so obvious that it does not require a specific commandment.
The Ten Commandments are listed in the Torah twice - in this week’s Torah reading, and in the book of Deuteronomy when Moshe repeats the laws before his death. Even though they are basically the same in both places, there are subtle differences which give a deeper understanding of them. Thus in Devarim (5; 16) the Torah says, “Honour your father and your mother as the L-rd your G-d commanded you...”. The underlined words are added into this version of the decalogue and seem to give added support to the idea above. The honouring of parents mandated here is not the simple repayment for past kindness performed by them, but is a way to get a closer appreciation of our relationship with G-d.
Furthermore, why is this one of the “Ten Commandments” anyway? The rest of the ten deal with major concepts vital to the stability of society or to our relationship with G-d. Honouring parents seems both trivial and so obvious that it need not be stated. And why does the Torah explicitly give the reward for this Mitzvah, “In order that you should....”. Surely every child must feel a sense of gratitude and debt to his or her parents, not only for physically bringing them into this world, but also for all the investment of time and love that their parents have made. Is one not “forced” to honour one’s parents even without any explicit command to do so?
The Sefer HaChinuch4 explains the commandment of honouring parents:
It is appropriate for a person to recognise and perform kindness to someone who has done kindness to him, and not be a scoundrel, estrange himself, and deny that goodness. For this is a very bad and disgusting trait in its essence both before G-d and people. A person should make himself aware that his father and mother are the cause of his existence in the world, and therefore it is truly appropriate for him to give to his parents every honour and every help that is possible. Because they brought him into this world and put every effort into him when he was a child. When a person fixes this trait into his character he will then be able to recognise the good that G-d has performed for him, that He is the reason he exists, and the reason for all his parents and grandparents back to Adam and Eve. And that G-d brought him into this world, provided for all his daily needs and keeps him in health and working order. And He gave him a cognitive and understanding soul, without which he would be like an animal without consciousness of self. Therefore a person should organise in his thoughts how appropriate it is for him to be scrupulous in serving G-d.
From this text we see that our assumptions were wrong. While it is true and obvious that we owe our parents honour and respect for all that they have done for us, this is not the reason that G-d commands it of us. The real question is why G-d created the world in such a way that people have parents, and require so much input for so many years. Surely He could have made us spontaneously generate, or at least have independence immediately after birth, like almost every other species. This commandment is telling us that the reason that G-d created human beings as dependent upon their parents, is in order that we can also recognise our dependence upon Him. Therefore the Mitzvah of honouring our parents rightly belongs on the first tablet with our other responsibilities toward G-d. That interpersonal component of honouring parents is so obvious that it does not require a specific commandment.
The Ten Commandments are listed in the Torah twice - in this week’s Torah reading, and in the book of Deuteronomy when Moshe repeats the laws before his death. Even though they are basically the same in both places, there are subtle differences which give a deeper understanding of them. Thus in Devarim (5; 16) the Torah says, “Honour your father and your mother as the L-rd your G-d commanded you...”. The underlined words are added into this version of the decalogue and seem to give added support to the idea above. The honouring of parents mandated here is not the simple repayment for past kindness performed by them, but is a way to get a closer appreciation of our relationship with G-d.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Yitro 2
The Jews encamped around Mount Sinai were like converts in many respects, approaching Judaism for the first time. Until now they had been a family, the descendants of Ya’akov; suddenly they became a nation with common goals and aspirations. Though Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov had been monotheistic and spread this belief throughout the ancient world, there was no obligation to keep the commandments which define Judaism until Mount Sinai.
Furthermore, there was no concept of matrilineal descent until Sinai. Sarah, Rivka, Rachel and Leah all came from the family of Terach, but were no more ‘Jewish’ than Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov. Their children were part of the ‘Children of Israel’ because they chose to emulate the beliefs and attributes of their parents, but Yishmael and Esav exercised the freedom to abandon this lifestyle and take a different path in life. Since Sinai, however, a person is Jewish either because their mother is Jewish, or if they convert through the principles of conversion laid down at Sinai.
It is appropriate therefore that the portion begins with the arrival of Yitro, Moshe’s father in law, who was the first true convert. We have a tradition that Pharaoh had three chief advisors, Yitro, Iyov (Job) and Bilaam. He asked them for their advice about how to deal with the Jews, and whether to kill the baby boys. Bilaam agreed that Pharaoh should kill them, and consequently was killed by the Jews in the war with Moav. Iyov remained silent, and as a result suffered terribly later in life (as related in the book of Iyov). Yitro disagreed, and told Pharaoh not to persecute the Jews. He was forced to flee to Midyan and renounce his position of authority, but ultimately converts in this week’s Torah portion, and shares in the inheritance of Israel.
Yitro had also been the high priest of idolatry both in Egypt and in Midyan, and had tried every religion and cult in the world before coming to realise that Judaism was the one and only true religion. When Yitro says “Now I know that G-d is greater than all other gods” (Shemot 18; 11) he is speaking from first hand knowledge, as Rashi explains “This teaches us that he knew all the idolatry in the world and there was not a single idol that he had not served”.
Thus Yitro’s choice to convert to Judaism was motivated by his search for truth. It was this quest that allowed him to speak out against Pharaoh’s decrees, and the same goal led him to every religion in the world. Rashi’s language is carefully chosen; he not only knew every religion but had also tried them all, and experienced them. Often a belief system does not make sense unless one takes part in it, conversely often a philosophy seems utopian until it is put into practise. Only through studying and experiencing was Yitro able to come to the conclusion that Judaism was the only true religion.
Since Sinai we no longer have a need to experiment with other religions. We know the truth of Judaism from our parents, and they from their parents, in a chain of tradition stretching back to Sinai. However one who converts to Judaism often only reaches their decision to convert after having denounced other belief systems as false. In the famous story about Hillel and the convert (Shabbat 31a) we see that Hillel was sensitive to this affirmation through rejection of the other.
A person once approached Shamai and told him that he wanted to convert on the condition that Shamai would teach him the whole Torah while he stood on one foot. Shamai rejected him, and sent him away. The same person then approached Hillel, who told him “That which is hateful to you don’t do to others. That is the whole Torah, the rest is commentary - go and learn it.”
Why did Hillel not simply quote the verse from the Torah (Vayikra 19; 18) “Love your fellow as yourself”? The answer is that Hillel appreciated the ability of the convert to discern truth from falsehood through a process of negation. This is possibly a higher level than simply accepting the truth. The Torah only requires one to examine what they enjoy, and to act in a similar manner with others. Hillel’s statement also requires the convert to search out what they dislike, to understand better how to treat others.
One of the most difficult things is to seek truth. We have become inoculated by the society around us to the point where we question the very existence of an absolute truth. Even once someone accepts that there is such a thing as truth, the search to attain it can last a lifetime and necessarily involves hardship in forsaking any comforts of falsehood. Arriving at the truth is the culmination of a heroic effort, and therefore the Torah instructs us to recognise this effort, and several times (e.g. Vayikra 19; 33 and Devarim 10; 18) enjoins us not to afflict a convert, and to treat him or her with special respect
Furthermore, there was no concept of matrilineal descent until Sinai. Sarah, Rivka, Rachel and Leah all came from the family of Terach, but were no more ‘Jewish’ than Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov. Their children were part of the ‘Children of Israel’ because they chose to emulate the beliefs and attributes of their parents, but Yishmael and Esav exercised the freedom to abandon this lifestyle and take a different path in life. Since Sinai, however, a person is Jewish either because their mother is Jewish, or if they convert through the principles of conversion laid down at Sinai.
It is appropriate therefore that the portion begins with the arrival of Yitro, Moshe’s father in law, who was the first true convert. We have a tradition that Pharaoh had three chief advisors, Yitro, Iyov (Job) and Bilaam. He asked them for their advice about how to deal with the Jews, and whether to kill the baby boys. Bilaam agreed that Pharaoh should kill them, and consequently was killed by the Jews in the war with Moav. Iyov remained silent, and as a result suffered terribly later in life (as related in the book of Iyov). Yitro disagreed, and told Pharaoh not to persecute the Jews. He was forced to flee to Midyan and renounce his position of authority, but ultimately converts in this week’s Torah portion, and shares in the inheritance of Israel.
Yitro had also been the high priest of idolatry both in Egypt and in Midyan, and had tried every religion and cult in the world before coming to realise that Judaism was the one and only true religion. When Yitro says “Now I know that G-d is greater than all other gods” (Shemot 18; 11) he is speaking from first hand knowledge, as Rashi explains “This teaches us that he knew all the idolatry in the world and there was not a single idol that he had not served”.
Thus Yitro’s choice to convert to Judaism was motivated by his search for truth. It was this quest that allowed him to speak out against Pharaoh’s decrees, and the same goal led him to every religion in the world. Rashi’s language is carefully chosen; he not only knew every religion but had also tried them all, and experienced them. Often a belief system does not make sense unless one takes part in it, conversely often a philosophy seems utopian until it is put into practise. Only through studying and experiencing was Yitro able to come to the conclusion that Judaism was the only true religion.
Since Sinai we no longer have a need to experiment with other religions. We know the truth of Judaism from our parents, and they from their parents, in a chain of tradition stretching back to Sinai. However one who converts to Judaism often only reaches their decision to convert after having denounced other belief systems as false. In the famous story about Hillel and the convert (Shabbat 31a) we see that Hillel was sensitive to this affirmation through rejection of the other.
A person once approached Shamai and told him that he wanted to convert on the condition that Shamai would teach him the whole Torah while he stood on one foot. Shamai rejected him, and sent him away. The same person then approached Hillel, who told him “That which is hateful to you don’t do to others. That is the whole Torah, the rest is commentary - go and learn it.”
Why did Hillel not simply quote the verse from the Torah (Vayikra 19; 18) “Love your fellow as yourself”? The answer is that Hillel appreciated the ability of the convert to discern truth from falsehood through a process of negation. This is possibly a higher level than simply accepting the truth. The Torah only requires one to examine what they enjoy, and to act in a similar manner with others. Hillel’s statement also requires the convert to search out what they dislike, to understand better how to treat others.
One of the most difficult things is to seek truth. We have become inoculated by the society around us to the point where we question the very existence of an absolute truth. Even once someone accepts that there is such a thing as truth, the search to attain it can last a lifetime and necessarily involves hardship in forsaking any comforts of falsehood. Arriving at the truth is the culmination of a heroic effort, and therefore the Torah instructs us to recognise this effort, and several times (e.g. Vayikra 19; 33 and Devarim 10; 18) enjoins us not to afflict a convert, and to treat him or her with special respect
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Parshat Yitro 1
My translation of a piece of R' Baruch HaLevi Epstein's "Tosefet Bracha" on the parsha can be found here
“And Yisro heard...” (Shemos 18; 1). Rashi comments, “What did he hear that brought him [from Midyan to the desert]? The splitting of the Reed Sea and the war with Amalek”. Hearing of these two events acted as the catalyst which made Yisro leave the comforts of Midyan to join the Israelites in the desert. Surely such miracles would have been reported by every news agency in the known world, but nobody else came to join them. Why does the Torah stress that Yisro heard about these events? Why is this an appropriate introduction to the main part of our portion, the giving of the Torah and the Ten Commandments?
In Hebrew, as in English, ‘hearing’ also has connotations of understanding. It implies more than sound waves entering the aural canal. We find the best example of this meaning in the word ‘Shema’ in the recital of ‘Shema Yisrael...’. The instruction which we proclaim is not to hear audibly that G-d is one, but to understand that belief in G-d’s unity is the bedrock of our faith, and underlies all of creation. Though all of the other nations heard about the miracles that G-d performed for the Jews, only Yisro ‘heard’ and understood that the only possible response was to leave Midyan and come into the desert.
Yisro’s ‘hearing’ is therefore a very apt introduction to the Ten Commandments, when the Jews recited the famous words, “We will do and we will hear” (“Na’aseh v’Nishma”) (ibid. 24; 7). The Sages teach (Shabbat 88b) that when G-d heard Israel utter this phrase He exclaimed, “Who revealed this secret to My children, the secret that the ministering angels use for themselves”, as the verse states, “Strong warriors [angels] who do His bidding and obey the sound of His words” (Tehillim 103; 20). By pledging that they will perform anything that G-d commands without question, and only then try and hear what G-d has asked of them the Jews put themselves on a par with the angels, who also act unquestioningly to do G-d’s bidding.
After Yisro joins the nation, he watches as Moshe judges the people. He realises that having Moshe as the sole adjudicant for the nation will not provide a permanent system of justice, and that it will destroy both Moshe and the nation. He suggests the alternative of appointing courts and judges, with lower and higher courts for lesser or greater disputes. Yisro says to Moshe, “Now, listen to my voice” (ibid. 18; 19). The Torah continues that “Moshe listened to the voice of his father-in-law, and did all that he had said.” (v. 24). Why does the Torah state that Moshe heard Yisro’s ‘voice’ rather than just telling us that he listened to his father-in-law?
Yisro understood that he was a newcomer to the nation, and though he was Moshe’s father-in-law, he was not sure whether he would be accepted by the rest of the nation. Would they be prepared to listen to the suggestion of a former idolater, in contradiction of the practise of their leader Moshe? Yet Yisro felt that what he had to say about the courts was as much a part of Torah as the commandments that they had heard directly from G-d. It was as if G-d were speaking from Yisro’s throat, using the G-d given logic in place of prophecy. This is why Yisro stresses that is not making his suggestion out of pride, but because the ‘voice’ of Mount Sinai is using his mouth as a conduit. Moshe understands this and therefore listens to his ‘voice’.
This teaches us an important principle in Torah study, often the Talmud asks on a verse, “This can be derived from logic - why do I need this verse?” There are limitations to our logic, and there are things that we don’t understand, which the Jews accepted at Sinai to do, and later come to an understanding. Also, Torah punishment cannot be given for a law derived purely from logic, and the 613 commandments only include those which are explicitly written in the Torah, but for daily living logic plays a vital role. Therefore, even though the incident with Yisro witnessing Moshe’s judging only took place after Yom Kippur, four months after Mount Sinai, the Torah presents it here as an introduction to the receiving of the Torah.
Later in the Torah reading, having just received the Ten Commandments directly from G-d, the Torah tells us “All the nation saw the voices (alt. thunder), and the flames, and the sound of the shofar and the smoking mountain...” (ibid. 20; 15). The people experienced synesthesia, where sounds became visible to them. Apart from the fact that we find it difficult to even conceive of such a concept, how does seeing a voice differ from hearing a voice? Why was it necessary for G-d to perform the extra miracle of making sounds visible?
We see from here that there is a clear difference from the voice of reason which resonates in the mouths of the scholars, which should be heard, and the direct prophecy of the encounter with G-d. The people went beyond hearing, and could actually see the words. The hidden meanings of each phrase became clear. Just as in English the phrase ‘I see’ implies a greater level of understanding than ‘I hear’, so too the Torah is telling us that the Jews reached the highest level of prophecy and insight. All the secrets contained within the Torah were revealed to them. When the Talmud wants to introduce a point it often uses the phrase, “Ta Shma”, “come and hear”. The Zohar, however, which contains the esoteric secrets, introduces phrases with the words, “Ta Chazi”, “Come and see”. Unless one ‘sees’ the meanings and secrets clearly they have not entered into the realms of the hidden secrets of the Torah.
Thus we see three different types of understanding in our portion. Yisro understood from events that he saw that the correct response was to join the Jews. Moshe heard and understood that Yisro’s logic was as valid as the rest of the Torah which was given directly from G-d. And the entire nation understood the Ten Commandments with such clarity that they went beyond hearing, and were able to ‘see’ what G-d demanded of them.
“And Yisro heard...” (Shemos 18; 1). Rashi comments, “What did he hear that brought him [from Midyan to the desert]? The splitting of the Reed Sea and the war with Amalek”. Hearing of these two events acted as the catalyst which made Yisro leave the comforts of Midyan to join the Israelites in the desert. Surely such miracles would have been reported by every news agency in the known world, but nobody else came to join them. Why does the Torah stress that Yisro heard about these events? Why is this an appropriate introduction to the main part of our portion, the giving of the Torah and the Ten Commandments?
In Hebrew, as in English, ‘hearing’ also has connotations of understanding. It implies more than sound waves entering the aural canal. We find the best example of this meaning in the word ‘Shema’ in the recital of ‘Shema Yisrael...’. The instruction which we proclaim is not to hear audibly that G-d is one, but to understand that belief in G-d’s unity is the bedrock of our faith, and underlies all of creation. Though all of the other nations heard about the miracles that G-d performed for the Jews, only Yisro ‘heard’ and understood that the only possible response was to leave Midyan and come into the desert.
Yisro’s ‘hearing’ is therefore a very apt introduction to the Ten Commandments, when the Jews recited the famous words, “We will do and we will hear” (“Na’aseh v’Nishma”) (ibid. 24; 7). The Sages teach (Shabbat 88b) that when G-d heard Israel utter this phrase He exclaimed, “Who revealed this secret to My children, the secret that the ministering angels use for themselves”, as the verse states, “Strong warriors [angels] who do His bidding and obey the sound of His words” (Tehillim 103; 20). By pledging that they will perform anything that G-d commands without question, and only then try and hear what G-d has asked of them the Jews put themselves on a par with the angels, who also act unquestioningly to do G-d’s bidding.
After Yisro joins the nation, he watches as Moshe judges the people. He realises that having Moshe as the sole adjudicant for the nation will not provide a permanent system of justice, and that it will destroy both Moshe and the nation. He suggests the alternative of appointing courts and judges, with lower and higher courts for lesser or greater disputes. Yisro says to Moshe, “Now, listen to my voice” (ibid. 18; 19). The Torah continues that “Moshe listened to the voice of his father-in-law, and did all that he had said.” (v. 24). Why does the Torah state that Moshe heard Yisro’s ‘voice’ rather than just telling us that he listened to his father-in-law?
Yisro understood that he was a newcomer to the nation, and though he was Moshe’s father-in-law, he was not sure whether he would be accepted by the rest of the nation. Would they be prepared to listen to the suggestion of a former idolater, in contradiction of the practise of their leader Moshe? Yet Yisro felt that what he had to say about the courts was as much a part of Torah as the commandments that they had heard directly from G-d. It was as if G-d were speaking from Yisro’s throat, using the G-d given logic in place of prophecy. This is why Yisro stresses that is not making his suggestion out of pride, but because the ‘voice’ of Mount Sinai is using his mouth as a conduit. Moshe understands this and therefore listens to his ‘voice’.
This teaches us an important principle in Torah study, often the Talmud asks on a verse, “This can be derived from logic - why do I need this verse?” There are limitations to our logic, and there are things that we don’t understand, which the Jews accepted at Sinai to do, and later come to an understanding. Also, Torah punishment cannot be given for a law derived purely from logic, and the 613 commandments only include those which are explicitly written in the Torah, but for daily living logic plays a vital role. Therefore, even though the incident with Yisro witnessing Moshe’s judging only took place after Yom Kippur, four months after Mount Sinai, the Torah presents it here as an introduction to the receiving of the Torah.
Later in the Torah reading, having just received the Ten Commandments directly from G-d, the Torah tells us “All the nation saw the voices (alt. thunder), and the flames, and the sound of the shofar and the smoking mountain...” (ibid. 20; 15). The people experienced synesthesia, where sounds became visible to them. Apart from the fact that we find it difficult to even conceive of such a concept, how does seeing a voice differ from hearing a voice? Why was it necessary for G-d to perform the extra miracle of making sounds visible?
We see from here that there is a clear difference from the voice of reason which resonates in the mouths of the scholars, which should be heard, and the direct prophecy of the encounter with G-d. The people went beyond hearing, and could actually see the words. The hidden meanings of each phrase became clear. Just as in English the phrase ‘I see’ implies a greater level of understanding than ‘I hear’, so too the Torah is telling us that the Jews reached the highest level of prophecy and insight. All the secrets contained within the Torah were revealed to them. When the Talmud wants to introduce a point it often uses the phrase, “Ta Shma”, “come and hear”. The Zohar, however, which contains the esoteric secrets, introduces phrases with the words, “Ta Chazi”, “Come and see”. Unless one ‘sees’ the meanings and secrets clearly they have not entered into the realms of the hidden secrets of the Torah.
Thus we see three different types of understanding in our portion. Yisro understood from events that he saw that the correct response was to join the Jews. Moshe heard and understood that Yisro’s logic was as valid as the rest of the Torah which was given directly from G-d. And the entire nation understood the Ten Commandments with such clarity that they went beyond hearing, and were able to ‘see’ what G-d demanded of them.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Yitro Summary
Yitro (Jethro), Moshe's father-in-law, brings Moshe's wife Tzipporah, and their two sons, Gershom and Eliezer, back to Moshe in the wilderness. Yitro observes that Moshe is the sole judge of any disputes. He says that this system cannot work in the long term, and helps Moshe set up a new system of law, by training and appointing judges at various levels to judge simpler cases, thus only the most complicated disputes will actually come before Moshe. He refuses Moshe's offer that he stay with the Jews in their journey through the desert, and returns to his own land.
In the third month after leaving Egypt the Children of Israel come to the Sinai desert and encamp at the foot of Mount Sinai. Moshe ascends the mountain. G-d tells Moshe to tell the people to spend three days preparing themselves, and to set up fences to prevent them going near the mountain. On the third day, G-d reveals Himself in a cloud of smoke and fire, accompanied by the blast of a shofar. G-d gives the Ten Commandments to the people. The people tremble with fear from hearing G-d's speech, and ask Moshe to act as an intermediary, relaying the Divine words to them. The portion ends with instructions prohibiting making idols, and instructions for building the altar.
In the third month after leaving Egypt the Children of Israel come to the Sinai desert and encamp at the foot of Mount Sinai. Moshe ascends the mountain. G-d tells Moshe to tell the people to spend three days preparing themselves, and to set up fences to prevent them going near the mountain. On the third day, G-d reveals Himself in a cloud of smoke and fire, accompanied by the blast of a shofar. G-d gives the Ten Commandments to the people. The people tremble with fear from hearing G-d's speech, and ask Moshe to act as an intermediary, relaying the Divine words to them. The portion ends with instructions prohibiting making idols, and instructions for building the altar.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Parshat Beshalach 3
After the Israelites have passed safely through the Sea of Reeds, and seen the Egyptians drowned, they sang a song of praise to G-d. The majority of that Song relates the downfall and death of the Egyptians. “I shall sing to G-d, for He is exalted above the arrogant, having hurled horse and rider into the sea… G-d is master of war… Pharaoh’s chariots and army He threw in the sea… In Your abundant grandeur you shatter Your opponents...” (Shemos 15; 1 ff.). Here it seems that G-d is praised through wreaking vengeance on His enemies.
This is in contrast to the specific prohibition against seeking revenge, “You shall not take revenge and you shall not bear a grudge...” (Vayikra 19; 18). The Talmud highly praises someone who does not seek revenge, “Those who are insulted, and don’t respond, that hear themselves being denigrated and don’t respond, who act from love, and rejoice in their suffering about them the verse states, ‘Those who love G-d are like the rising sun in its might’ (Shoftim 5; 31)” (Yoma 23a).
Furthermore, the song that the Israelites sang was forbidden to the angels to sing: After the Israelites had crossed through the Reed Sea the angels wanted to sing a song of praise of G-d. He said to them, ‘Should you sing a song while My handiwork [the Egyptians] are drowning in the sea? (Megillah 10b). It seems that the angels were expected to show compassion at the deaths of the Egyptians, despite the suffering that they caused to the Israelites. How were the Israelites themselves permitted to sing praises of G-d?
The Talmud also implies that revenge is not always a bad thing, “Rabbi Yochanan said in the name of Rabbi Shimon ben Yehotzadak, any Torah scholar who does not seek revenge and bear a grudge like a snake is not a true scholar” (Yoma 22b). Elsewhere it states, “How great is revenge, for it was written between two names of G-d, as the verse states, ‘G-d, Who seeks revenge is G-d’ (Tehillim 114; 1)” (Brachot 33a). Furthermore, the Midrash states that the revelation of G-d’s revenge that the nations witnessed at the Reed Sea brought great glory to G-d:
“Then Moshe sang...” (Shemos 15; 1). This is the meaning of the verse “Your [G-d’s] throne was established from then” (Tehillim 93; 2). Rav Berachiah stated in the name of Rabbi Abahu that even though You are eternal, but You were not seated on Your throne, and not known in Your world until Your children recited the Song of the Sea. (Shemos Rabba 23; 1).
The resolution of this apparent contradiction is that there are two kinds of revenge. The common usage of the word revenge implies something which is motivated by pride and a base desire for punishment for one’s enemies. The Talmud explains:
“What is revenge and what is bearing a grudge? A person asked to borrow their neighbour’s sickle, and was refused, then the following the day the same neighbour asks to borrow his axe. If he refuses saying, ‘Just as you wouldn’t lend to me’, this is revenge. What is bearing a grudge? A person asked to borrow their neighbour’s axe, and was refused, then the following the day the same neighbour asks to borrow an item of clothing. If he responds, ‘You may borrow it, because unlike you I do lend out my possessions’ this is bearing a grudge. (Yoma 23a).
There is also vengeance which is solely a quest for justice. Though in English the word ‘vengeance’ has a pejorative meaning, in Hebrew does not necessarily have connotations of vindictiveness. It is this type of vengeance which a Torah scholar must possess, and which was written in the Torah between two of G-d’s names.
The world was set up in a constant balance between G-d’s mercy and His strict justice. Without mercy the world would not have been able to exist for a moment, at the first sin everything would have been returned to emptiness and void. However, without justice G-d is not a G-d of truth. Therefore He must meet out justice, and reward and punishment so that fairness is preserved.
It is through G-d’s carrying out of justice that He is clearly perceived in the world. Every time that a sin goes unpunished, because of G-d’s mercy, there is an opportunity to think that there is no Judge and no justice. When the wicked are punished we see the Heavenly Judge in action.
However, only the injured party can seek this revenge. If someone else seeks revenge on their behalf it cannot be solely a quest for justice. This is why the Israelites were permitted to sing G-d’s praises, because they had suffered under the Egyptians. But the angels who had only observed their suffering were not permitted to rejoice at the downfall of the Egyptians.
We can now understand why G-d was not ‘seated on His throne’ until after the splitting of the sea. For 210 years the Egyptians had persecuted the Israelites with apparent impunity. They forgot that there was a G-d who ran the world. At the time of their punishment all the nations witnessed the fact that everyone ultimately receives their just desserts.
This is in contrast to the specific prohibition against seeking revenge, “You shall not take revenge and you shall not bear a grudge...” (Vayikra 19; 18). The Talmud highly praises someone who does not seek revenge, “Those who are insulted, and don’t respond, that hear themselves being denigrated and don’t respond, who act from love, and rejoice in their suffering about them the verse states, ‘Those who love G-d are like the rising sun in its might’ (Shoftim 5; 31)” (Yoma 23a).
Furthermore, the song that the Israelites sang was forbidden to the angels to sing: After the Israelites had crossed through the Reed Sea the angels wanted to sing a song of praise of G-d. He said to them, ‘Should you sing a song while My handiwork [the Egyptians] are drowning in the sea? (Megillah 10b). It seems that the angels were expected to show compassion at the deaths of the Egyptians, despite the suffering that they caused to the Israelites. How were the Israelites themselves permitted to sing praises of G-d?
The Talmud also implies that revenge is not always a bad thing, “Rabbi Yochanan said in the name of Rabbi Shimon ben Yehotzadak, any Torah scholar who does not seek revenge and bear a grudge like a snake is not a true scholar” (Yoma 22b). Elsewhere it states, “How great is revenge, for it was written between two names of G-d, as the verse states, ‘G-d, Who seeks revenge is G-d’ (Tehillim 114; 1)” (Brachot 33a). Furthermore, the Midrash states that the revelation of G-d’s revenge that the nations witnessed at the Reed Sea brought great glory to G-d:
“Then Moshe sang...” (Shemos 15; 1). This is the meaning of the verse “Your [G-d’s] throne was established from then” (Tehillim 93; 2). Rav Berachiah stated in the name of Rabbi Abahu that even though You are eternal, but You were not seated on Your throne, and not known in Your world until Your children recited the Song of the Sea. (Shemos Rabba 23; 1).
The resolution of this apparent contradiction is that there are two kinds of revenge. The common usage of the word revenge implies something which is motivated by pride and a base desire for punishment for one’s enemies. The Talmud explains:
“What is revenge and what is bearing a grudge? A person asked to borrow their neighbour’s sickle, and was refused, then the following the day the same neighbour asks to borrow his axe. If he refuses saying, ‘Just as you wouldn’t lend to me’, this is revenge. What is bearing a grudge? A person asked to borrow their neighbour’s axe, and was refused, then the following the day the same neighbour asks to borrow an item of clothing. If he responds, ‘You may borrow it, because unlike you I do lend out my possessions’ this is bearing a grudge. (Yoma 23a).
There is also vengeance which is solely a quest for justice. Though in English the word ‘vengeance’ has a pejorative meaning, in Hebrew does not necessarily have connotations of vindictiveness. It is this type of vengeance which a Torah scholar must possess, and which was written in the Torah between two of G-d’s names.
The world was set up in a constant balance between G-d’s mercy and His strict justice. Without mercy the world would not have been able to exist for a moment, at the first sin everything would have been returned to emptiness and void. However, without justice G-d is not a G-d of truth. Therefore He must meet out justice, and reward and punishment so that fairness is preserved.
It is through G-d’s carrying out of justice that He is clearly perceived in the world. Every time that a sin goes unpunished, because of G-d’s mercy, there is an opportunity to think that there is no Judge and no justice. When the wicked are punished we see the Heavenly Judge in action.
However, only the injured party can seek this revenge. If someone else seeks revenge on their behalf it cannot be solely a quest for justice. This is why the Israelites were permitted to sing G-d’s praises, because they had suffered under the Egyptians. But the angels who had only observed their suffering were not permitted to rejoice at the downfall of the Egyptians.
We can now understand why G-d was not ‘seated on His throne’ until after the splitting of the sea. For 210 years the Egyptians had persecuted the Israelites with apparent impunity. They forgot that there was a G-d who ran the world. At the time of their punishment all the nations witnessed the fact that everyone ultimately receives their just desserts.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Parshat Beshalach 2
“Az Yashir Moshe ...”, “Then Moshe sang ...”. This explains the verse “Your throne is established from then (Az)” (Tehillim 93; 2), Rabbi Berachia said in the name of Rabbi Abahu: Even though You (G-d) have existed forever, Your throne was not sat in, and You were not made known in Your world until Your children sang the song [at the Reed Sea]. Therefore the verse states “Your throne is established from then (Az)” (Shemos Rabba 23).
How did the splitting of the Reed Sea and the Jews singing the Song of the Sea make G-d’s presence in the world more known than any of the other miraculous events seen so far? The Midrash implies that this miracle was in some way quite different from that which had gone before. Singing a song in praise had never happened until this time, as expressed in the following Midrash (ibid.):
“Az Yashir Moshe ...”, “Then Moshe sang ...”. This explains the verse “Her mouth is open with knowledge, and the Torah of kindness is on her tongue” (Mishlei 31; 26). From the creation of the world until Israel sang the song at the sea we never find any person who sang G-d’s praises. Adam was created but never sang praise. G-d saved Avraham from the fiery furnace and from the kings. Similarly He saved Yitzchak from the sacrificial knife and Ya’akov from the angel and from Esav and from the inhabitants of Shechem, and none of them sang a song of praise. However when the Jews came to the Reed Sea and it split for them immediately they sang praise before G-d.
It perhaps does not make sense that no one had ever been moved to praise G-d before in spite of the miracles witnessed. Rabbi Y. Y. L. Bloch explains in Shi’urei Da’as that the essence of a song is found in a new experience, and all other songs written about a normal event will be but pale imitations of the original. So, when the Midrash says that no one had ever sung G-d’s praise until this time, it implies that until now miracles could be regarded as understandable in spite of their greatness. The splitting of the sea was something qualitatively different, and not so easily explained.
When G-d created the universe he set up systems of laws, the physical laws which have been understood and explained by scientists, and the spiritual laws which are metaphysical. The ancients had a clear understanding of the spiritual laws, as we see from the Egyptian advisors, who could also replicate many of the plagues and miracles. The Talmud (Chagiga 12a) states: “When G-d was creating the world it was continually expanding like the thread of a loom, until G-d stopped it … This is the meaning of the name Sha-dai; G-d who said “enough” to His world”. G-d is infinite, the act of creation necessitated limiting His influence (Tzimtzum) in order to make a finite world. Sha-dai is the name of G-d which connotes His role as limiting, setting rules and laws by which the world functions.
According to the spiritual laws, a righteous person deserves to have miracles performed for him or her. Avraham had demonstrated his unquestioning faith and trust in G-d, so it was not surprising that he was saved from the furnace or from the four kings. Conversely the Egyptians had harshly enslaved the Israelites, and deserved the plagues with which they were punished. To the discerning observer none of these events would be worthy of song, because they merely follow the laws which G-d set up at creation, implicit in the name Sha-dai.
However the miracles at the sea were of an entirely different nature. The Zohar (Exodus 56) states that the sea didn’t want to split. It complained that the Jews were no worthier of salvation that were the Egyptians, they were both idolaters. G-d chose to save the Israelites not based on laws of reward and punishment, but on future events, that they would eventually accept the Torah at Mount Sinai. By judging based not on the present but on the larger picture of the purpose of the world, G-d was displaying His true essence in this world, which we know as the name Y-HV-H. Only through showing His favouritism to the Jews did G-d reveal His true nature, and His larger role in world history. This is the explanation of the verses “And G-d spoke to Moshe, and said to him, ‘I am Y-HV-H. I appeared to Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov by the name of G-d Sha-dai, but by my name Y-HV-H I was not known to them’” (Shemos 6; 2-3).
The Midrash, that G-d’s throne was not sat in until this time, nor was He known in the world is now clearly understood. Until this time everything could be attributed to the laws of creation, and Divine involvement with the world was concealed. But when the sea split before the Jews all of humanity witnessed and acknowledged G-d as the ruler of the world. This is why the Jews were moved to song, seeing a miracle, the like of which the world had never seen.
How did the splitting of the Reed Sea and the Jews singing the Song of the Sea make G-d’s presence in the world more known than any of the other miraculous events seen so far? The Midrash implies that this miracle was in some way quite different from that which had gone before. Singing a song in praise had never happened until this time, as expressed in the following Midrash (ibid.):
“Az Yashir Moshe ...”, “Then Moshe sang ...”. This explains the verse “Her mouth is open with knowledge, and the Torah of kindness is on her tongue” (Mishlei 31; 26). From the creation of the world until Israel sang the song at the sea we never find any person who sang G-d’s praises. Adam was created but never sang praise. G-d saved Avraham from the fiery furnace and from the kings. Similarly He saved Yitzchak from the sacrificial knife and Ya’akov from the angel and from Esav and from the inhabitants of Shechem, and none of them sang a song of praise. However when the Jews came to the Reed Sea and it split for them immediately they sang praise before G-d.
It perhaps does not make sense that no one had ever been moved to praise G-d before in spite of the miracles witnessed. Rabbi Y. Y. L. Bloch explains in Shi’urei Da’as that the essence of a song is found in a new experience, and all other songs written about a normal event will be but pale imitations of the original. So, when the Midrash says that no one had ever sung G-d’s praise until this time, it implies that until now miracles could be regarded as understandable in spite of their greatness. The splitting of the sea was something qualitatively different, and not so easily explained.
When G-d created the universe he set up systems of laws, the physical laws which have been understood and explained by scientists, and the spiritual laws which are metaphysical. The ancients had a clear understanding of the spiritual laws, as we see from the Egyptian advisors, who could also replicate many of the plagues and miracles. The Talmud (Chagiga 12a) states: “When G-d was creating the world it was continually expanding like the thread of a loom, until G-d stopped it … This is the meaning of the name Sha-dai; G-d who said “enough” to His world”. G-d is infinite, the act of creation necessitated limiting His influence (Tzimtzum) in order to make a finite world. Sha-dai is the name of G-d which connotes His role as limiting, setting rules and laws by which the world functions.
According to the spiritual laws, a righteous person deserves to have miracles performed for him or her. Avraham had demonstrated his unquestioning faith and trust in G-d, so it was not surprising that he was saved from the furnace or from the four kings. Conversely the Egyptians had harshly enslaved the Israelites, and deserved the plagues with which they were punished. To the discerning observer none of these events would be worthy of song, because they merely follow the laws which G-d set up at creation, implicit in the name Sha-dai.
However the miracles at the sea were of an entirely different nature. The Zohar (Exodus 56) states that the sea didn’t want to split. It complained that the Jews were no worthier of salvation that were the Egyptians, they were both idolaters. G-d chose to save the Israelites not based on laws of reward and punishment, but on future events, that they would eventually accept the Torah at Mount Sinai. By judging based not on the present but on the larger picture of the purpose of the world, G-d was displaying His true essence in this world, which we know as the name Y-HV-H. Only through showing His favouritism to the Jews did G-d reveal His true nature, and His larger role in world history. This is the explanation of the verses “And G-d spoke to Moshe, and said to him, ‘I am Y-HV-H. I appeared to Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov by the name of G-d Sha-dai, but by my name Y-HV-H I was not known to them’” (Shemos 6; 2-3).
The Midrash, that G-d’s throne was not sat in until this time, nor was He known in the world is now clearly understood. Until this time everything could be attributed to the laws of creation, and Divine involvement with the world was concealed. But when the sea split before the Jews all of humanity witnessed and acknowledged G-d as the ruler of the world. This is why the Jews were moved to song, seeing a miracle, the like of which the world had never seen.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Parshat Beshalach 1
The splitting of the Reed Sea was one of the most direct and open miracles in the history of the world. The Talmud relates that even the lowest person crossing through the sea saw more of the spiritual realms than the prophet Yechezkel (Ezekiel) who received one of the highest visions of G-d’s throne of Glory. The verse says “This is my G-d” (15; 2), meaning that each person was able to physically point to G-d and say “Here He is!”. Yet only a few chapters later the Torah says about these same people who have just seen G-d “That they tried G-d, saying ‘Is G-d in our midst or not?’”. How could they have forgotten in such a short space of time the miracles that G-d had performed for them?
Consider the manna. Each morning the Jews would receive their daily food from the heavens. Not only did it arrive fresh and tasty, but it was also shrink wrapped in a layer of dew to preserve the flavour. This miracle begins in today’s Torah portion (16; 4) and continues throughout the entire forty years that they remain in the desert. This was a clear miracle, perceived by every individual person in the nation. Furthermore, it also shows that G-d is constantly involved with the world, and providing for his creations.
Imagine someone who was born during those forty years in the Sinai desert. The only way he knows of getting food is by waiting for it to arrive on the doorstep each morning. To him or her, this is the way the world works. If they would have had science textbooks then, surely there would have been diagrams showing exactly how to recognise manna, and showing how it falls from the heavens. We can picture his or her shock upon entering the land of Israel after forty years. They have never known any other way of life. All of a sudden they are told that by putting seeds in the ground they can grow their own food. Yet, at first, when they experiment, all they see is that the seed disintegrates. How miraculous it must have been for them to actually see grain growing from the ground. Not only are they amazed that dirt can sustain life, but they can plant as much as they like, and have a storehouse full of food, not having to rely daily on G-d’s kindness. They can grow a variety of crops, each with a unique taste and texture, and they can actually feel that they are earning and deserving their food, rather than just receiving a handout form G-d. To this person, which is the greater miracle, bread form the heavens, or bread from the earth?
We define miracles as those occurrences which apparently defy the laws of nature. But surely those very laws themselves are no less miraculous. We become accustomed to the way in which the world works, and therefore there is a danger that we may begin to take it for granted. G-d has given us the independence to provide for ourselves, and at the same time instructs us to maintain and acknowledge our dependence upon Him for everything we have. He has given us blessings before and after everything we eat, and for many other of the pleasures of the world. “Blessed are You, G-d, King of the Universe, who sustains the entire world with His goodness.3” This is our challenge, to continually recognise G-d in the world, not only in the extraordinary, but also, and even more importantly, in the mundane.
This is the mistake that the Jews made when they first left Egypt. They acknowledged G-d as the Worker of Miracles. They saw Him at the Reed Sea, as they had seen Him in the plagues that He brought upon the Egyptians. But when there were no more overt miracles, they questioned “Is the L-rd among usor not?” They had not yet opened their eyes to realise that the greatest evidence of G-d is His presence among us, in our daily lives. They had not forgotten the miracles, and had not lessened their belief in G-d, but they couldn’t see Him with them continuously. It is up to us to constantly try to find the miracles, both overt and hidden, which G-d performs for us.
Consider the manna. Each morning the Jews would receive their daily food from the heavens. Not only did it arrive fresh and tasty, but it was also shrink wrapped in a layer of dew to preserve the flavour. This miracle begins in today’s Torah portion (16; 4) and continues throughout the entire forty years that they remain in the desert. This was a clear miracle, perceived by every individual person in the nation. Furthermore, it also shows that G-d is constantly involved with the world, and providing for his creations.
Imagine someone who was born during those forty years in the Sinai desert. The only way he knows of getting food is by waiting for it to arrive on the doorstep each morning. To him or her, this is the way the world works. If they would have had science textbooks then, surely there would have been diagrams showing exactly how to recognise manna, and showing how it falls from the heavens. We can picture his or her shock upon entering the land of Israel after forty years. They have never known any other way of life. All of a sudden they are told that by putting seeds in the ground they can grow their own food. Yet, at first, when they experiment, all they see is that the seed disintegrates. How miraculous it must have been for them to actually see grain growing from the ground. Not only are they amazed that dirt can sustain life, but they can plant as much as they like, and have a storehouse full of food, not having to rely daily on G-d’s kindness. They can grow a variety of crops, each with a unique taste and texture, and they can actually feel that they are earning and deserving their food, rather than just receiving a handout form G-d. To this person, which is the greater miracle, bread form the heavens, or bread from the earth?
We define miracles as those occurrences which apparently defy the laws of nature. But surely those very laws themselves are no less miraculous. We become accustomed to the way in which the world works, and therefore there is a danger that we may begin to take it for granted. G-d has given us the independence to provide for ourselves, and at the same time instructs us to maintain and acknowledge our dependence upon Him for everything we have. He has given us blessings before and after everything we eat, and for many other of the pleasures of the world. “Blessed are You, G-d, King of the Universe, who sustains the entire world with His goodness.3” This is our challenge, to continually recognise G-d in the world, not only in the extraordinary, but also, and even more importantly, in the mundane.
This is the mistake that the Jews made when they first left Egypt. They acknowledged G-d as the Worker of Miracles. They saw Him at the Reed Sea, as they had seen Him in the plagues that He brought upon the Egyptians. But when there were no more overt miracles, they questioned “Is the L-rd among usor not?” They had not yet opened their eyes to realise that the greatest evidence of G-d is His presence among us, in our daily lives. They had not forgotten the miracles, and had not lessened their belief in G-d, but they couldn’t see Him with them continuously. It is up to us to constantly try to find the miracles, both overt and hidden, which G-d performs for us.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Beshalach Summary
You can read some divrei Torah from Tosefet Bracha by clicking on the link. (My translation, R' Baruch HaLevi Epstein's Divrei Torah - aka the Torah Temima)
Here is a summary of the Parsha.
When Pharaoh sends the Jews out of Egypt, G-d guides them on a long route through the wilderness in order to avoid seeing war, which might cause them to return to Egypt. G-d leads them with a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire at night. G-d instructs them to turn back towards the Reed Sea1 so that Pharaoh will think that they are lost and be tempted to pursue them.
Pharaoh and the Egyptians regret letting the Jews leave and chase after them with horses and chariots. The Jews are terrified; the Egyptians are right behind them and the sea is facing them. With no way out they complain to Moshe. G-d instructs Moshe to hold out his staff over the sea, and it splits, allowing the Jews to cross. Once they have all crossed safely , G-d again instructs Moshe to hold out his staff, and the sea returns to its normal state, drowning all the pursuing Egyptians. The Jews, led by Moshe, sing praise to G-d for all of the good that he has done for them.
They travel onward to the wilderness of Shur, walking three days without water. They arrive in Marra but the water is too bitter to drink. The Jews complain about Moshe, who prays to G-d and is told to place wood from a certain tree into the waters, which sweetens them. In Marra G-d gives them some of the 613 commandments.
They journey on to Elim, and camp by twelve springs surrounded by seventy palm trees. Next they go to the wilderness of Sin. The Jews complain about the lack of food and moan about Moshe and Aharon's leadership. G-d sends them Manna and quails, and instructs them about Shabbat. G-d instructs Aharon to take a container, place Manna in it, and keep it as an eternal reminder that He provided for them in the desert.
Again there is no water to drink, so G-d instructs Moshe to hit a rock with his staff in front of the entire nation. Water then flows from it, and this spring follows them throughout their journey in the desert.
The nation of Amalek attacks the Jews at Rephidim. Joshua leads the men in battle, and they eventually succeed in weakening Amalek. G-d instructs them to write down what Amalek did, as an eternal reminder. G-d also states that he will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek.
Here is a summary of the Parsha.
When Pharaoh sends the Jews out of Egypt, G-d guides them on a long route through the wilderness in order to avoid seeing war, which might cause them to return to Egypt. G-d leads them with a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire at night. G-d instructs them to turn back towards the Reed Sea1 so that Pharaoh will think that they are lost and be tempted to pursue them.
Pharaoh and the Egyptians regret letting the Jews leave and chase after them with horses and chariots. The Jews are terrified; the Egyptians are right behind them and the sea is facing them. With no way out they complain to Moshe. G-d instructs Moshe to hold out his staff over the sea, and it splits, allowing the Jews to cross. Once they have all crossed safely , G-d again instructs Moshe to hold out his staff, and the sea returns to its normal state, drowning all the pursuing Egyptians. The Jews, led by Moshe, sing praise to G-d for all of the good that he has done for them.
They travel onward to the wilderness of Shur, walking three days without water. They arrive in Marra but the water is too bitter to drink. The Jews complain about Moshe, who prays to G-d and is told to place wood from a certain tree into the waters, which sweetens them. In Marra G-d gives them some of the 613 commandments.
They journey on to Elim, and camp by twelve springs surrounded by seventy palm trees. Next they go to the wilderness of Sin. The Jews complain about the lack of food and moan about Moshe and Aharon's leadership. G-d sends them Manna and quails, and instructs them about Shabbat. G-d instructs Aharon to take a container, place Manna in it, and keep it as an eternal reminder that He provided for them in the desert.
Again there is no water to drink, so G-d instructs Moshe to hit a rock with his staff in front of the entire nation. Water then flows from it, and this spring follows them throughout their journey in the desert.
The nation of Amalek attacks the Jews at Rephidim. Joshua leads the men in battle, and they eventually succeed in weakening Amalek. G-d instructs them to write down what Amalek did, as an eternal reminder. G-d also states that he will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Parshat Bo
“By ten Divine utterances was the world created.” (Ethics of the Fathers 5; 1). The Kabbalistic texts explain the ten plagues in Egypt corresponded to these ten utterances with which the world was created. At the time of creation the greatest revelation of G-d’s Presence was ‘In the beginning’, when there was only G-d and nothing else. Each act of creation served to further disguise G-d’s role in the world. However, with the plagues in Egypt, each new affliction brought the Egyptians and the Israelites closer to the recognition of G-d as Master of the Universe. Therefore, the plagues correspond to creation in reverse order.
The second utterance of creation was “Let there be light” (Genesis 1; 3). This light was not the normal light that illuminates our world today, as the heavenly bodies were not created until the fourth day of creation. Rather, according to the Midrash (quoted in Rashi) it was an intense spiritual light, and G-d saw that the wicked were unworthy of enjoying it. Therefore He separated it from the rest of the universe, and set it aside for the use of the righteous in the World to Come. It is clear that this light was not what we call light, because originally it was mingled with ‘darkness’ until “G-d separated between the light and the darkness...” (ibid. 4). We know darkness to be simply the absence of light, and therefore it is physically impossible to have dark and light mingled together, yet this impossibility was the light and darkness of the first day of creation.
The second to last plague in Egypt was that of darkness. But again, this was not merely the absence of light, as the verse states, “the darkness will be tangible ... No person could see another, nor could anyone rise from their place for a three day period.” (Exodus X; 21 - 23). Ramban explains that this darkness was an opaque, fog-like condition that extinguished all flames, so that the Egyptians could not use lamps. For the first three days they were confined to their homes by this darkness, but for the next three days the darkness intensified and became so palpable that the Egyptians literally could not move (Rashi).
Furthermore, this darkness was mingled with light, as the Torah says “but for all the Children of Israel there was light in their dwellings”. Rashi explains that there were two reasons for this plague of darkness. Among the Jews there were many people who had assimilated to the point where there was no hope for them to return to the covenant of Israel. Therefore they were not able to be redeemed from Egypt. G-d provided the darkness so that the Egyptians would not see their deaths and claim that the plagues affected Jews and Egyptians alike. Secondly, G-d had promised that the Jews would go free with all the wealth of Egypt. During the plague of darkness they were able to examine the possessions of the Egyptians, and determine their locations. When the Israelites were about to leave the Egyptians were not be able to deny them anything, as the verse states, “G-d gave the people favour in the eyes of the Egyptians, and they granted their requests, so they emptied Egypt” (ibid.. 12; 36). So while the Egyptians were paralysed by the darkness, the Jews were able to walk through their homes, looking through their possessions with clear illumination. This seems to be the mingling of light and darkness before G-d decreed their separation at the time of creation.
The second utterance of creation was “Let there be light” (Genesis 1; 3). This light was not the normal light that illuminates our world today, as the heavenly bodies were not created until the fourth day of creation. Rather, according to the Midrash (quoted in Rashi) it was an intense spiritual light, and G-d saw that the wicked were unworthy of enjoying it. Therefore He separated it from the rest of the universe, and set it aside for the use of the righteous in the World to Come. It is clear that this light was not what we call light, because originally it was mingled with ‘darkness’ until “G-d separated between the light and the darkness...” (ibid. 4). We know darkness to be simply the absence of light, and therefore it is physically impossible to have dark and light mingled together, yet this impossibility was the light and darkness of the first day of creation.
The second to last plague in Egypt was that of darkness. But again, this was not merely the absence of light, as the verse states, “the darkness will be tangible ... No person could see another, nor could anyone rise from their place for a three day period.” (Exodus X; 21 - 23). Ramban explains that this darkness was an opaque, fog-like condition that extinguished all flames, so that the Egyptians could not use lamps. For the first three days they were confined to their homes by this darkness, but for the next three days the darkness intensified and became so palpable that the Egyptians literally could not move (Rashi).
Furthermore, this darkness was mingled with light, as the Torah says “but for all the Children of Israel there was light in their dwellings”. Rashi explains that there were two reasons for this plague of darkness. Among the Jews there were many people who had assimilated to the point where there was no hope for them to return to the covenant of Israel. Therefore they were not able to be redeemed from Egypt. G-d provided the darkness so that the Egyptians would not see their deaths and claim that the plagues affected Jews and Egyptians alike. Secondly, G-d had promised that the Jews would go free with all the wealth of Egypt. During the plague of darkness they were able to examine the possessions of the Egyptians, and determine their locations. When the Israelites were about to leave the Egyptians were not be able to deny them anything, as the verse states, “G-d gave the people favour in the eyes of the Egyptians, and they granted their requests, so they emptied Egypt” (ibid.. 12; 36). So while the Egyptians were paralysed by the darkness, the Jews were able to walk through their homes, looking through their possessions with clear illumination. This seems to be the mingling of light and darkness before G-d decreed their separation at the time of creation.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Parshat Bo
Rashi begins his commentary of the Torah with his famous question. Why does the Bible begin with the account of creation and of the patriarchs. Surely G-d did not need to tell us all of that; this is not a history book. Rather says Rashi, the Torah should have begun with the first real mitzvah (commandment), that of declaring the new month, which is in this week’s Torah reading. It is clear from this question that today’s Torah reading introduces a qualitatively different type of Torah. Therefore it must also herald the beginning of a different Jewish Nation that is able to accept and relate to such a Torah. What is so special about the Mitzvah of declaring the new month that it should be the first commandment that G-d gave us as a nation?
King Solomon tells us in Koheles (Ecclesiastes) “There is nothing new beneath the sun” (1; 9). “Beneath the sun” is a phrase used to denote the natural order, the scientific laws of the observable universe. Everything has been set in motion from the time of creation, and therefore there is nothing “new” that can occur. All that we are able to do is to better understand how these laws operate, and thus to find ways of using them to our benefit. But we are not able to actually create anything new.
Of course this implies that there are “new” things, but that they are “above” the sun, beyond the realms of science and nature. Our Rabbis tell us that “beyond the sun” refers to G-d, the spiritual world, and the Torah which is our gateway to that world. Actual creation and renewal is possible, but only through the study and observance of the Torah and its laws. This is the world order that we as Jews have access to if we choose to delve into it.
The Hebrew words for new month are “Rosh Chodesh”. “Chodesh” is closely related to the word “Chidush” meaning renewal. By giving us the Mitzvah of Rosh Chodesh, G-d is also giving us the power of Chidush. Here we have our opening into the world of Torah and closeness to G-d, the world beyond the sun. Therefore, Rashi questioned why the Torah doesn’t begin at this point, when we are given the key to renewal that separates us from the rest of the world.
Why is this the first commandment given to the Jews before leaving Egypt? Why couldn’t G-d wait until they were standing at Mt. Sinai, and they could have had access to the renewal of the new month at the same time that the rest of the Torah was given to them?
The book of Exodus begins with “There arose new king...”. The Chiddushei HaRim2 asks how is it possible that the Torah describes the king of Egypt as “new”, implying that he was somehow connected to this higher order beyond the parameters of the sun? He answers that G-d puts this power into the world, and it is intended for the Jews to connect to. If, however, they forget that they have this ability, and don’t utilise it, others are able to make use of this potential for renewal against them. This is what happened in Egypt. The Jews forgot what they were there for, and that they could connect to the spiritual power of Torah, the inheritance of their forefathers. Therefore Pharaoh and Egypt were able to use it to enslave them, as it says “There arose a new king over Egypt who did not know Yosef”. Pharaoh was only able to forget about Yosef because the Jews had also forgotten.
Therefore, in order to get out of Egypt, the Jews needed the ability to start again. Despite the fact that they had sunk to the lowest levels of morality, and become as Egyptian as the Egyptians, G-d gave them the gift of Chodesh and Chidush so that they could rise out of the slump and begin again. This is why the new month sacrifices that are commanded in the Torah include a sin-offering. It is a mini Day of Atonement and gives us the chance to begin again.
Many other nations have risen to become superpowers, but eventually their strength collapses inwards as their society disintegrates. All the nations that once ruled the world no longer exist, they have been relegated to the realm of history. Once the social rot sets in, they find no way out. Only we Jews have survived every up and down of history. Whenever we hit a spiritual low and there appears no way out, G-d punishes us, but at the same time gives us the opportunity to begin again with a clean slate. Our G-d given ability to renew ourselves, as individuals and as a nation explains the seemingly impossible longevity of the Jewish nation in world history.
King Solomon tells us in Koheles (Ecclesiastes) “There is nothing new beneath the sun” (1; 9). “Beneath the sun” is a phrase used to denote the natural order, the scientific laws of the observable universe. Everything has been set in motion from the time of creation, and therefore there is nothing “new” that can occur. All that we are able to do is to better understand how these laws operate, and thus to find ways of using them to our benefit. But we are not able to actually create anything new.
Of course this implies that there are “new” things, but that they are “above” the sun, beyond the realms of science and nature. Our Rabbis tell us that “beyond the sun” refers to G-d, the spiritual world, and the Torah which is our gateway to that world. Actual creation and renewal is possible, but only through the study and observance of the Torah and its laws. This is the world order that we as Jews have access to if we choose to delve into it.
The Hebrew words for new month are “Rosh Chodesh”. “Chodesh” is closely related to the word “Chidush” meaning renewal. By giving us the Mitzvah of Rosh Chodesh, G-d is also giving us the power of Chidush. Here we have our opening into the world of Torah and closeness to G-d, the world beyond the sun. Therefore, Rashi questioned why the Torah doesn’t begin at this point, when we are given the key to renewal that separates us from the rest of the world.
Why is this the first commandment given to the Jews before leaving Egypt? Why couldn’t G-d wait until they were standing at Mt. Sinai, and they could have had access to the renewal of the new month at the same time that the rest of the Torah was given to them?
The book of Exodus begins with “There arose new king...”. The Chiddushei HaRim2 asks how is it possible that the Torah describes the king of Egypt as “new”, implying that he was somehow connected to this higher order beyond the parameters of the sun? He answers that G-d puts this power into the world, and it is intended for the Jews to connect to. If, however, they forget that they have this ability, and don’t utilise it, others are able to make use of this potential for renewal against them. This is what happened in Egypt. The Jews forgot what they were there for, and that they could connect to the spiritual power of Torah, the inheritance of their forefathers. Therefore Pharaoh and Egypt were able to use it to enslave them, as it says “There arose a new king over Egypt who did not know Yosef”. Pharaoh was only able to forget about Yosef because the Jews had also forgotten.
Therefore, in order to get out of Egypt, the Jews needed the ability to start again. Despite the fact that they had sunk to the lowest levels of morality, and become as Egyptian as the Egyptians, G-d gave them the gift of Chodesh and Chidush so that they could rise out of the slump and begin again. This is why the new month sacrifices that are commanded in the Torah include a sin-offering. It is a mini Day of Atonement and gives us the chance to begin again.
Many other nations have risen to become superpowers, but eventually their strength collapses inwards as their society disintegrates. All the nations that once ruled the world no longer exist, they have been relegated to the realm of history. Once the social rot sets in, they find no way out. Only we Jews have survived every up and down of history. Whenever we hit a spiritual low and there appears no way out, G-d punishes us, but at the same time gives us the opportunity to begin again with a clean slate. Our G-d given ability to renew ourselves, as individuals and as a nation explains the seemingly impossible longevity of the Jewish nation in world history.
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