As we proceed through Sefer Devarim, we are presented with a series of radical dichotomies, expressed, for example, in the choice between Bracha and K’lala.
This notion is introduced by Moshe with the question in 10:12-13 “What does HaShem ask of you? – Ki Im – just to fear HaShem your God, to walk in all of His ways, and to love Him, and to serve HaShem your God with all of your heart and all of your might. To observe HaShem’s commandments and His statutes that I am commanding to you today for your benefit.”
The glaring question is, how can Ki Im be understood in this context? It would seem to be a diminutive expression, but that does not seem to fit with the list of requirements that follow.
One approach explains that there are so many things in life that are just givens, beyond the control or choice of the individual – such as the family you are born into, your access to educational opportunities, et cetera. The one thing you can choose is to have Yirat Shamayim. This is a narrow, circumscribed decision to be made. It is Ki Im in the sense that one needs “simply” to choose to do the right thing morally, then all of the other behaviors laid out in the Pasuk will follow.
A second approach, that of the RaMBaN solves the dilemma by parsing the Pasuk differently, placing Ki Im with L’Tov Lach, meaning you would do well to follow this formula; it is for your own good.
This answer is problematic because we have understood that the highest order of Avodat HaShem is using our Bechirat Chofshit to choose morality Lishma, not for extrinsic reward.
One possible answer is that, while the highest level is in fact acting Lishma, here Moshe is warning Bnei Yisrael of the dire consequences of poor choices once they enter Eretz Yisrael.
A third approach to Ki Im, suggested by the Gemara is it can be understood, at face value, as a diminutive. The point being that this mode of behavior was no big deal for Moshe.
This answer is problematic as well, from two angles. First, did Moshe have no Yetzer to conquer? In fact, we are given to the understanding that the greater a person’s impact, the greater must have been their personal battle with their impulses. Secondly, did Moshe have no psychological sophistication with which to empathize with the intended audience of these remarks? This does not seem possible – he knew Am Yisrael.
Another Aggadeta on the same Blatt sheds light on Moshe’s intended meaning. It says that at the end of days, HaShem will slaughter the Yetzer HaRah and two groups of people will cry: Tzadikkim, who will wonder how they ever conquered this huge mountain, and Reshaim, who will wonder how they failed to conquer this single strand of hair. By minimizing Yirat Shamayim, Moshe is pointing out that it is just one small decision (a strand of hair) that needs to be made in order to live a moral life – this puts everything else into motion. -OM
Monday, August 6, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Shabbat Parashat Va’Etchanan
Sefer Devarim is comprised of a series of Moshe’s addresses to the Jewish people that he delivered before they entered Israel. In Parashat Va’Etchanan, there is one such address which Rav Dovid Tzvi Hoffman refers to as the ‘address of mitzvot’ where Moshe tells the people to keep the mitzvot (beginning with verse 4:1). In this address, Moshe warns the people, "But you shall greatly beware for your souls, for you did not see any likeness on the day God spoke to you at Chorev, from the midst of the fire. Lest you act corruptly and make yourselves a carved image . . ." (beginning with verse 4:15) and this stretched over a few verses. The practical impact of these verses is the prohibition against making images. But beyond that, we have an emphasis of the fact that at Sinai, we didn’t see anything – we only heard; what is the significance of this that it has to be emphasized?
To address the question above, we have to think in terms of how we contemplate or understand something. When you see someone, you have a clear frame of reference as to what it is and how to define it. But when you can only hear someone, there is an inherent lack of knowledge about the person – a barrier between you and the person. The emphasis here is that we can never ‘see’ God – i.e. to know what he is or to be able to define him.
With this background, we have to deal with a command later in the Parasha to love God, "You shall love God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your resources." The Ibn Ezra on 6:5 explains that 'halev hu hada'at' - the heart is the intelligence. The reference in the verse to 'your heart' refers to one's intellect. Ramban there likes the explanation and quotes a prooftext for it from verse 6, "And these words should be . . . on your heart;" one can't talk of words being on one's heart but one can talk of them being in one's thoughts. This connection of the heart and the mind lies at base of what love really is. To love means to have knowledge of someone. The Torah introduces love to us with the first relationship between man and woman – Adam and Chava. When Adam is intimate with Chava, the Torah uses a language of ‘v’yadah’ – and he knew her. Why does the Torah use a language of ‘knowing’ when talking of intimacy? The answer is that the Torah is recognizing that a true relationship of love must stem from knowing the other person. True love can’t be because of a need or a benefit or some other reason; it must simply be from knowing, understanding, and appreciating the person for what the person is. Love must be a disinterested emotion where there is nothing in it for you, per se. The only cause for love can be love itself.
Here we have a command to love God but loving someone or something by definition means having knowledge of it. This leaves us with a question – how can we be commanded to love God when we cannot understand/know him? Midrashim talk of the extent of this love. One midrash tells of Rebbe Akiva who was happy only when he was able to fulfill this command with actually giving up his life for the love of God. Other midrashim emphasize the all-encompassing nature of this love – all of our desires and all of our resources are to be going to this love. Which still leaves us with the question – how can we achieve this if love requires a knowledge of that which you love and we can’t know God?
The Rambam dealt with this and developed an approach – ‘Derech Hashlilah.’ What this says is one must first understand all that one can about what God is not. One develops one’s intelligence, understanding more and more of the world until there is nothing left to know. [In the way of thinking at the time, ‘intelligence’ is more than just your repository of knowledge. It is a part of you that is meant to be active at all times in growing, never passive]. At that point one can refer to that base of knowledge and reflect – "I know this is not God, now what else is there?"; one’s context of what is not God gives a better context for now asking the question – what is God? The Rambam understands the references to ‘maaseh breishit’ and ‘maaseh hamerkavah’ as to refer to knowing all the knowledge there is to know – including physics and metaphysics. According to the Rambam’s interpretation, this relationship gets captured in Parashat Ki Tisah where Moshe asks God to see Him. God says no one can see His face and live; but he will allow Moshe to see ‘achorai’ – my traces. Meaning, Moshe can see the effects or results of God in this world but never the Cause, never God Himself.
This approach of the Rambam was certainly not accepted by the mainstream. There have been many Jews who have not studied physics and the like, but who have nevertheless talked of the love of God. How do they do it? R Levi Yitzchak M’BarDetchev in his Kedushat Levi offers two approaches to developing a love of God. He first brings the Rambam then he offers a second route where one has to be ‘mistakel el ha’ayin’ – to look into the ayin. Ayin is a kabbalistic term, which refers to the source of all, and it’s something that one can never know. Rav Levi speaks of embracing this ‘ayin’ and then the love of God coming upon you.
One can see the Rambam and Rav Levi coming to the same endpoint. You come to this abyss where beyond it lies all that you cannot comprehend and you leap into it. To get a sense of what this leap entails, one can look at how the Rambam describes it. It almost seems an obsession wherein all that you do, you have God in mind. What we can do is to try to fulfill the verse in its fullest – putting all of our energy and all our resources into our love for God.
HG
To address the question above, we have to think in terms of how we contemplate or understand something. When you see someone, you have a clear frame of reference as to what it is and how to define it. But when you can only hear someone, there is an inherent lack of knowledge about the person – a barrier between you and the person. The emphasis here is that we can never ‘see’ God – i.e. to know what he is or to be able to define him.
With this background, we have to deal with a command later in the Parasha to love God, "You shall love God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your resources." The Ibn Ezra on 6:5 explains that 'halev hu hada'at' - the heart is the intelligence. The reference in the verse to 'your heart' refers to one's intellect. Ramban there likes the explanation and quotes a prooftext for it from verse 6, "And these words should be . . . on your heart;" one can't talk of words being on one's heart but one can talk of them being in one's thoughts. This connection of the heart and the mind lies at base of what love really is. To love means to have knowledge of someone. The Torah introduces love to us with the first relationship between man and woman – Adam and Chava. When Adam is intimate with Chava, the Torah uses a language of ‘v’yadah’ – and he knew her. Why does the Torah use a language of ‘knowing’ when talking of intimacy? The answer is that the Torah is recognizing that a true relationship of love must stem from knowing the other person. True love can’t be because of a need or a benefit or some other reason; it must simply be from knowing, understanding, and appreciating the person for what the person is. Love must be a disinterested emotion where there is nothing in it for you, per se. The only cause for love can be love itself.
Here we have a command to love God but loving someone or something by definition means having knowledge of it. This leaves us with a question – how can we be commanded to love God when we cannot understand/know him? Midrashim talk of the extent of this love. One midrash tells of Rebbe Akiva who was happy only when he was able to fulfill this command with actually giving up his life for the love of God. Other midrashim emphasize the all-encompassing nature of this love – all of our desires and all of our resources are to be going to this love. Which still leaves us with the question – how can we achieve this if love requires a knowledge of that which you love and we can’t know God?
The Rambam dealt with this and developed an approach – ‘Derech Hashlilah.’ What this says is one must first understand all that one can about what God is not. One develops one’s intelligence, understanding more and more of the world until there is nothing left to know. [In the way of thinking at the time, ‘intelligence’ is more than just your repository of knowledge. It is a part of you that is meant to be active at all times in growing, never passive]. At that point one can refer to that base of knowledge and reflect – "I know this is not God, now what else is there?"; one’s context of what is not God gives a better context for now asking the question – what is God? The Rambam understands the references to ‘maaseh breishit’ and ‘maaseh hamerkavah’ as to refer to knowing all the knowledge there is to know – including physics and metaphysics. According to the Rambam’s interpretation, this relationship gets captured in Parashat Ki Tisah where Moshe asks God to see Him. God says no one can see His face and live; but he will allow Moshe to see ‘achorai’ – my traces. Meaning, Moshe can see the effects or results of God in this world but never the Cause, never God Himself.
This approach of the Rambam was certainly not accepted by the mainstream. There have been many Jews who have not studied physics and the like, but who have nevertheless talked of the love of God. How do they do it? R Levi Yitzchak M’BarDetchev in his Kedushat Levi offers two approaches to developing a love of God. He first brings the Rambam then he offers a second route where one has to be ‘mistakel el ha’ayin’ – to look into the ayin. Ayin is a kabbalistic term, which refers to the source of all, and it’s something that one can never know. Rav Levi speaks of embracing this ‘ayin’ and then the love of God coming upon you.
One can see the Rambam and Rav Levi coming to the same endpoint. You come to this abyss where beyond it lies all that you cannot comprehend and you leap into it. To get a sense of what this leap entails, one can look at how the Rambam describes it. It almost seems an obsession wherein all that you do, you have God in mind. What we can do is to try to fulfill the verse in its fullest – putting all of our energy and all our resources into our love for God.
HG
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Shabbat Parshat Devarim
We read parshat Devarim every year on shabbos Chazon, the shabbos preceding Tisha B’Av. There is a sense of hope: Bnei Yisrael are near the Jordan river, on the cusp of fulfilling the conquest and purpose for which they were taken out of Egypt. At the same time, there is a sense of melancholy: there is a recurring mention of our going back into Exile. The sefer creates a sense of ‘radical contingency’ for our remaining in the land.
The sefer begins ‘Eleh HaDevarim’ which refers to the different speeches of rebuke and warning that Moshe has been giving the people as they have been wandering the past 38 years. Here, the content of these speeches is put together as the nation is ready to enter the land. The beginning of Parshat Devarim raises a number of questions, both with the places mentioned and the structure of the psukim in their referring to the 11-day journey from Har Sinai to Kadesh-barnea. These questions were raised at the time of the Midrash and up through more recent commentaries coming to the psukim with a different type of analysis. In the Midrash, for example, there is one opinion that the places mentioned whose names are not to be found elsewhere in the Torah, are actually fictitious places and are really hints to episdoes when Bnei Yisrael sinned. Rav Dovid Tzvi Hoffman has some unedited work on Sefer Devarim where he addresses the beginning of the parsha. [Rabbi Granatstein spoke very highly of Rav Hoffman’s work. He noted that what we have is limited; his work on Devarim is unedited, but it’s so good – you have to address it]. Rav Hoffman sees the verse ‘Eleven days from Horeb, by way of Mount Seir to Kadesh-barnea’ (1:2) as a header of sorts for the rebuke that is to come. Moshe is telling the people: there is an eleven-day journey from Har Sinai until the point of entry to the land – and we made it there. This contrasts with what follows – our arriving across from the Jordan 40 years after leaving Egypt. The references to the different locations are capturing points for the journey from Kadesh-barnea southward and then north, up and around the lands we went past and/or conquered, adding to the contrast of the 11-day journey versus the long one that we travelled. And there is an opinion in the Midrash who says, ‘ these are all real places. I’ve been to them all and I can tell you where they are.’
To help develop this contrast, we can look at the story of the spies – the event that marked our not entering the land from Kadesh-barnea – as it is told in parshat Shlach and contrast it with how it is referred to in parshat Devarim. Parshat Shlach opens with ‘Shlach lecha’ – on which there is a famous debate whether it is a command from God for us to send spies or a choice given to Moshe – ‘it is up to you to send spies if you see fit.’ Rashi presents it as a choice. Ramban argues with Rashi and develops the approach that it was a command – in line with what we would expect for a nation about to attempt to conquer a land militarily [refer to the Ramban in the beginning of parshat Shlach for details such as other examples of conquest where Moshe and Yehoshua send spies]. And Rabbi Granatstein added that we have similar examples of this language in the Torah where it clearly is a command – such as lech lecha, which is clearly a command to Avraham to go; and on a level of pshat, we would read ‘shlach lecha’ the same way, as a command.
But according to the Ramban, we have to address what the sin of Bnei Yisrael was. Ramban says it was in their requesting the spies in the first place and adding Chazal – that we should have had faith to follow the Cloud of Glory without asking for spies [Ramban says the command came following our request – see inside for details]. This is harder to defend after explaining that sending spies and developing a plan of attack was a natural thing to do in these situations, and we had done it before and would do it later.
Rabbi Granatstein addressed this question. Looking at how the story of the spies is recounted in parshat Devarim, the only difference in the text from how it is depicted in Parshat Shlach is Moshe describing the people approaching him to request the spies: All of you approached me and said, ‘Let us send men ahead of us and let them spy out the land, and bring word back to us – the road on which we should ascend and the cities to which we should come' (1:22). Moshe here in Devarim is offering a retrospective look at events in the past; what was it about their request that was wrong? The request made sense to Moshe at the time and fit with expectations, and yet when the spies reported back and said ‘Efes ki az ha’am . . .’ (Bamidbar, 13:28) and there is no hope and then the people give up hope, this reflects back on the original request. They made their request – not out of planning and the like, but out of fear and not trusting in God. And now – in the end of their journeys – Moshe can refer back to that moment when they made the request and point to it as a failure on their part. And Rashi adds regarding this pasuk that they came 'barvuvia' - almost as a mob, perhaps accenting the despair that ran though their request.
The people then failed to act when they needed to, suffered a failure of nerve essentially – and this led to Tisha B’Av. Moshe hightlights this for them saying: we were so close. We had only 11 days to travel and we did! And then we sinned - which led to the next 38 years of travelling and experiences that left us here, now again ready to enter the land. And this has been true throughout our history. When we lack the will to make the decisions called upon us as the Jewish people and to act as we need to, it leads to destruction and exile. And we have the opportunity for redemption and return if we are able to make the choices we are expected to as part of our faith. And this is the ‘radical contingency’ that underlies all of Sefer Devarim and our history.
HG
The sefer begins ‘Eleh HaDevarim’ which refers to the different speeches of rebuke and warning that Moshe has been giving the people as they have been wandering the past 38 years. Here, the content of these speeches is put together as the nation is ready to enter the land. The beginning of Parshat Devarim raises a number of questions, both with the places mentioned and the structure of the psukim in their referring to the 11-day journey from Har Sinai to Kadesh-barnea. These questions were raised at the time of the Midrash and up through more recent commentaries coming to the psukim with a different type of analysis. In the Midrash, for example, there is one opinion that the places mentioned whose names are not to be found elsewhere in the Torah, are actually fictitious places and are really hints to episdoes when Bnei Yisrael sinned. Rav Dovid Tzvi Hoffman has some unedited work on Sefer Devarim where he addresses the beginning of the parsha. [Rabbi Granatstein spoke very highly of Rav Hoffman’s work. He noted that what we have is limited; his work on Devarim is unedited, but it’s so good – you have to address it]. Rav Hoffman sees the verse ‘Eleven days from Horeb, by way of Mount Seir to Kadesh-barnea’ (1:2) as a header of sorts for the rebuke that is to come. Moshe is telling the people: there is an eleven-day journey from Har Sinai until the point of entry to the land – and we made it there. This contrasts with what follows – our arriving across from the Jordan 40 years after leaving Egypt. The references to the different locations are capturing points for the journey from Kadesh-barnea southward and then north, up and around the lands we went past and/or conquered, adding to the contrast of the 11-day journey versus the long one that we travelled. And there is an opinion in the Midrash who says, ‘ these are all real places. I’ve been to them all and I can tell you where they are.’
To help develop this contrast, we can look at the story of the spies – the event that marked our not entering the land from Kadesh-barnea – as it is told in parshat Shlach and contrast it with how it is referred to in parshat Devarim. Parshat Shlach opens with ‘Shlach lecha’ – on which there is a famous debate whether it is a command from God for us to send spies or a choice given to Moshe – ‘it is up to you to send spies if you see fit.’ Rashi presents it as a choice. Ramban argues with Rashi and develops the approach that it was a command – in line with what we would expect for a nation about to attempt to conquer a land militarily [refer to the Ramban in the beginning of parshat Shlach for details such as other examples of conquest where Moshe and Yehoshua send spies]. And Rabbi Granatstein added that we have similar examples of this language in the Torah where it clearly is a command – such as lech lecha, which is clearly a command to Avraham to go; and on a level of pshat, we would read ‘shlach lecha’ the same way, as a command.
But according to the Ramban, we have to address what the sin of Bnei Yisrael was. Ramban says it was in their requesting the spies in the first place and adding Chazal – that we should have had faith to follow the Cloud of Glory without asking for spies [Ramban says the command came following our request – see inside for details]. This is harder to defend after explaining that sending spies and developing a plan of attack was a natural thing to do in these situations, and we had done it before and would do it later.
Rabbi Granatstein addressed this question. Looking at how the story of the spies is recounted in parshat Devarim, the only difference in the text from how it is depicted in Parshat Shlach is Moshe describing the people approaching him to request the spies: All of you approached me and said, ‘Let us send men ahead of us and let them spy out the land, and bring word back to us – the road on which we should ascend and the cities to which we should come' (1:22). Moshe here in Devarim is offering a retrospective look at events in the past; what was it about their request that was wrong? The request made sense to Moshe at the time and fit with expectations, and yet when the spies reported back and said ‘Efes ki az ha’am . . .’ (Bamidbar, 13:28) and there is no hope and then the people give up hope, this reflects back on the original request. They made their request – not out of planning and the like, but out of fear and not trusting in God. And now – in the end of their journeys – Moshe can refer back to that moment when they made the request and point to it as a failure on their part. And Rashi adds regarding this pasuk that they came 'barvuvia' - almost as a mob, perhaps accenting the despair that ran though their request.
The people then failed to act when they needed to, suffered a failure of nerve essentially – and this led to Tisha B’Av. Moshe hightlights this for them saying: we were so close. We had only 11 days to travel and we did! And then we sinned - which led to the next 38 years of travelling and experiences that left us here, now again ready to enter the land. And this has been true throughout our history. When we lack the will to make the decisions called upon us as the Jewish people and to act as we need to, it leads to destruction and exile. And we have the opportunity for redemption and return if we are able to make the choices we are expected to as part of our faith. And this is the ‘radical contingency’ that underlies all of Sefer Devarim and our history.
HG
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Shabbat Parshat Matot-Masei 5767
Parshat Masei has the laws of the ‘arei miklat’ – the cities of refuge. The Torah deals here with both homicide – one who kills with intent – and the accidental murder where one was grossly negligent but did not intend to kill. One who kills by accident is to go the City of Refuge for protection from an avenging relative. In the Gemara, our Sages refer to this running to and living in the City of Refuge as ‘Galut’ – exile. The rishonim, following on the Sages’ terming this exile, describe this as an exile of Kapparah – atonement. The time spent in the City of Refuge is an exile that serves as atonement for the one who killed accidentally.
One who is in the City of Refuge remains there until the High Priest of his time passes away. What is the connection between the High Priest and the accidental murderer? Rashi (35:25) offers two answers, both from the Gemara; the first of these two answers is more readily understandable than the second. The first answer is that the High Priest comes to bring God’s presence to the Jewish people and bring life to the Jewish people while a murdered removes God’s presence from the Jewish people and shortens lives; it’s not proper for the murderer to be in front of or coexisting with the High Priest. In other words, there is a dichotomy between the murderer (even by accident) and the High Priest. The High Priest represents ‘Kehushat HaChayim’ – all that is good and spiritual about living life – while the murderer represents death and all that is bad in life. And the two cannot coexist with one another. This is highlighted by capturing the dichotomy within the interaction of the murderer and High Priest.
Rashi’s second answer is that the High Priest should have prayed that such an occurrence (of accidental death) should not have occurred to our people [and for his lack of prayer to this effect, the High Priest is put in a position where his death will allow the closure of the event. The Gemara talks of the murderer have loved ones praying for the High Priest’s early death to allow the murderer to go free earlier]. This answer is harder to understand than the first. Why are we punishing the High Priest for his lack of prayer? How exactly does his lack of prayer relate to the accidental death that occurred? [We will come back to this question at the end of the discussion].
Looking at murder on purpose: The only time we give the death penalty is when the Beit Din HaGadol – the High Court – that sits on the Temple Mount is in place in the Lishlat HaGazit. The Gemara has a piece where two of the Sages say if they had been alive and participating in the High Court, they would never have given someone the death penalty. Meaning, they would have made the details of receiving and accepting evidence and the like so difficult that no one could have been found guilty. R’ Shimon ben Gamliel (RaSHBaG) responds to them that this would lead to an abundance of murderers on the loose. Meaning, without a deterrent of the death penalty, there would be more murder. Rabbi Granatstein raised the issue: how could the Sages have contemplated not allowing a death penalty to be dealt out – there are commandments relating to the death penalty as to when to give it and how to do so (i.e. Capital punishment is a Mitzvah). How could the Sages have thought to create technicalities not to give it? Along these same lines, when RaSHBaG responds – why doesn’t he give this response that the Torah says we are to kill one who commits homicide? He gives an instrumental response rather than a fundamental one. Why? To address this, we have to draw a distinction between different mitzvot. With a mitzvah such as taking a lulav on Sukkot, you can talk about doing the mitzva with a lot of intent and concentration; you can’t have this discussion in regard to killing someone. [I think Rabbi Granatstein meant that with most mitzvot, there is an inherent opportunity to draw you closer to God in performing the mitzvah; it’s a lechatchila to do the mitzvah. With meting out a death penalty, it can never be a lechatchila. It may be necessary – instrumental – but not more than that. This allows us to say that while Torah deals with homicide, the Torah’s primary focus of a response to or necessary result of murder is exile].
As an aside, Rabbi Granatstein referred to two relatively recent times when the issue of the death penalty here in America came up. There was a time when there was no death penalty. Then it began to be instituted again – amidst much debate in State legislatures. An Orthodox legislator wrote Rav Moshe Feinstein regarding this – whether or not this judge should come out in favor of the death penalty or against it. Rav Moshe’s response was that without all the safeguards that the High Court has in place, there can’t be a death penalty. But, Rav Moshe said he could see allowing it for the purpose of having a deterrent that without it, there would be more murderers around. The second instance occurred when the Reform movement drafted a letter against the death penalty. The Orthodox Union drafted a response supporting the death penalty. Rav Soloveitchik told them they either couldn’t send the response or they had to come out also against the death penalty – because without a High Court, you cannot have the death penalty.
Returning again to accidental murder and Galut: looking at the beginning of man, we have two periods of ten generations, from Adam to Noah and from Noah to Avraham. In each of these periods we have a stance taken against murder, though they differ from one another. During the first period, no blood can be spilled, not even that of an animal. Man is to be perfect and perfection means not killing anything. Man then sins and is punished with the Flood. After the Flood, Hashem allows the killing of animals for man to eat them. This is recognition of the fact that man is not perfect, and allowance is made for what seems to be intrinsic blood lust in man. And still, the Torah makes a clear statement (9:6) – “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed.” The murder of man cannot happen.
Looking at the Torah, we can see a theme of Galut from the first time we have murder. Kayin murders and his punishment is Galut. The Torah highlights this that he builds a city for his son Chanoch – ‘I will never know rest and have a home, but my son will.’ The generation of Noah – they sin and their punishment is being expelled from their places (they are washed away from their homes). With Migdal Bavel – the people gather together and sin and they are expelled to different lands. Avraham is told his children will be in Galut. And our Galut sets up the rest of the Torah as our search for home, to return from Galut. And there is a constant emphasis of our sin leading to further Galut.
Returning to Rashi’s second answer: you can talk about two types of a High Priest. One type is someone who does his Avodah each day and prides himself on it, seeing the Avodah as a right of his position and nothing more. A second type is one who sees the Avodah as representing his responsibility to the People. The High Priest’s role is to make sure that everyone and everything remains spiritually good and at home – that we don’t have some to the types of actions and lack of care that lead to Galut and to Hashem having to move things from their natural place. And we have many examples in the Navi where it’s emphasized that the Avodah is more than just the physical sacrifices and rites – it’s about our conduct; the High Priest – as our representative – is to perform the Avodah as a reflection of our dedication to the Kedushat HaChayim that the High Priest is supposed to represent. This is what Rashi is driving at with the answer he quotes from the Gemara. The High Priest’s not praying to avoid this occurrence reflects his not being sensitive to the role and responsibility that he has.
Submitted by Herzl Ginsburg
One who is in the City of Refuge remains there until the High Priest of his time passes away. What is the connection between the High Priest and the accidental murderer? Rashi (35:25) offers two answers, both from the Gemara; the first of these two answers is more readily understandable than the second. The first answer is that the High Priest comes to bring God’s presence to the Jewish people and bring life to the Jewish people while a murdered removes God’s presence from the Jewish people and shortens lives; it’s not proper for the murderer to be in front of or coexisting with the High Priest. In other words, there is a dichotomy between the murderer (even by accident) and the High Priest. The High Priest represents ‘Kehushat HaChayim’ – all that is good and spiritual about living life – while the murderer represents death and all that is bad in life. And the two cannot coexist with one another. This is highlighted by capturing the dichotomy within the interaction of the murderer and High Priest.
Rashi’s second answer is that the High Priest should have prayed that such an occurrence (of accidental death) should not have occurred to our people [and for his lack of prayer to this effect, the High Priest is put in a position where his death will allow the closure of the event. The Gemara talks of the murderer have loved ones praying for the High Priest’s early death to allow the murderer to go free earlier]. This answer is harder to understand than the first. Why are we punishing the High Priest for his lack of prayer? How exactly does his lack of prayer relate to the accidental death that occurred? [We will come back to this question at the end of the discussion].
Looking at murder on purpose: The only time we give the death penalty is when the Beit Din HaGadol – the High Court – that sits on the Temple Mount is in place in the Lishlat HaGazit. The Gemara has a piece where two of the Sages say if they had been alive and participating in the High Court, they would never have given someone the death penalty. Meaning, they would have made the details of receiving and accepting evidence and the like so difficult that no one could have been found guilty. R’ Shimon ben Gamliel (RaSHBaG) responds to them that this would lead to an abundance of murderers on the loose. Meaning, without a deterrent of the death penalty, there would be more murder. Rabbi Granatstein raised the issue: how could the Sages have contemplated not allowing a death penalty to be dealt out – there are commandments relating to the death penalty as to when to give it and how to do so (i.e. Capital punishment is a Mitzvah). How could the Sages have thought to create technicalities not to give it? Along these same lines, when RaSHBaG responds – why doesn’t he give this response that the Torah says we are to kill one who commits homicide? He gives an instrumental response rather than a fundamental one. Why? To address this, we have to draw a distinction between different mitzvot. With a mitzvah such as taking a lulav on Sukkot, you can talk about doing the mitzva with a lot of intent and concentration; you can’t have this discussion in regard to killing someone. [I think Rabbi Granatstein meant that with most mitzvot, there is an inherent opportunity to draw you closer to God in performing the mitzvah; it’s a lechatchila to do the mitzvah. With meting out a death penalty, it can never be a lechatchila. It may be necessary – instrumental – but not more than that. This allows us to say that while Torah deals with homicide, the Torah’s primary focus of a response to or necessary result of murder is exile].
As an aside, Rabbi Granatstein referred to two relatively recent times when the issue of the death penalty here in America came up. There was a time when there was no death penalty. Then it began to be instituted again – amidst much debate in State legislatures. An Orthodox legislator wrote Rav Moshe Feinstein regarding this – whether or not this judge should come out in favor of the death penalty or against it. Rav Moshe’s response was that without all the safeguards that the High Court has in place, there can’t be a death penalty. But, Rav Moshe said he could see allowing it for the purpose of having a deterrent that without it, there would be more murderers around. The second instance occurred when the Reform movement drafted a letter against the death penalty. The Orthodox Union drafted a response supporting the death penalty. Rav Soloveitchik told them they either couldn’t send the response or they had to come out also against the death penalty – because without a High Court, you cannot have the death penalty.
Returning again to accidental murder and Galut: looking at the beginning of man, we have two periods of ten generations, from Adam to Noah and from Noah to Avraham. In each of these periods we have a stance taken against murder, though they differ from one another. During the first period, no blood can be spilled, not even that of an animal. Man is to be perfect and perfection means not killing anything. Man then sins and is punished with the Flood. After the Flood, Hashem allows the killing of animals for man to eat them. This is recognition of the fact that man is not perfect, and allowance is made for what seems to be intrinsic blood lust in man. And still, the Torah makes a clear statement (9:6) – “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed.” The murder of man cannot happen.
Looking at the Torah, we can see a theme of Galut from the first time we have murder. Kayin murders and his punishment is Galut. The Torah highlights this that he builds a city for his son Chanoch – ‘I will never know rest and have a home, but my son will.’ The generation of Noah – they sin and their punishment is being expelled from their places (they are washed away from their homes). With Migdal Bavel – the people gather together and sin and they are expelled to different lands. Avraham is told his children will be in Galut. And our Galut sets up the rest of the Torah as our search for home, to return from Galut. And there is a constant emphasis of our sin leading to further Galut.
Returning to Rashi’s second answer: you can talk about two types of a High Priest. One type is someone who does his Avodah each day and prides himself on it, seeing the Avodah as a right of his position and nothing more. A second type is one who sees the Avodah as representing his responsibility to the People. The High Priest’s role is to make sure that everyone and everything remains spiritually good and at home – that we don’t have some to the types of actions and lack of care that lead to Galut and to Hashem having to move things from their natural place. And we have many examples in the Navi where it’s emphasized that the Avodah is more than just the physical sacrifices and rites – it’s about our conduct; the High Priest – as our representative – is to perform the Avodah as a reflection of our dedication to the Kedushat HaChayim that the High Priest is supposed to represent. This is what Rashi is driving at with the answer he quotes from the Gemara. The High Priest’s not praying to avoid this occurrence reflects his not being sensitive to the role and responsibility that he has.
Submitted by Herzl Ginsburg
Monday, July 9, 2007
Shabbat Parshat Pinchas, 5767
The following is a summary of Rabbi Granatstein's Drasha, composed by Herzl Ginsburg:
The parsha begins with the act of Pinchas. This act was in essence a protection of the Avodah (as it was under attack from Midyan and their women leading us to Ba’al Peor). Pinchas gets rewarded with Brit Kehunat Olam. Following this, Hashem tells Moshe we have to wage war against the people of Midyan. Our expectation is that battle will then follow. But here the Torah changes course and details the census of the nation – which in context is coming as we are about to enter the land and all the rules and details of the Nachala need to be listed [see Rashi], including the different families and Bnot Tzlaphchad w/ their issue – what if there are no male children in the house. This is followed by Hashem telling Moshe to go up the mountain to pass away as he will not be entering the land – again, a part of the detail of the Nachala. And this is followed by Moshe asking for Hashem to appoint a successor to lead the people in and Hashem choosing Yehoshua – again, a part of the Nachala. Here the Torah changes course again to discuss the Avodah once again, detailing the korbanot for shabbos, rosh chodesh, and Yom Tov.
In summary, the Parsha goes from Avodah to Nachalah to Nachalah to Avodah again. The medrash highlights this with the mashal: a woman who is about to pass on calls to her husband to tell him to watch over her children after she has passed. The husband responds that he wants her to tell the kids what they should be doing to take care of him after she has passed. The nimshal for this is Moshe having the discussion with Hashem about the leadership (who will take care of the nation) and then the Torah having the detail of the Avodah which is our service to Hashem.
To understand the structure of the parsha, we can address the question as to why Pinchas wasn’t chosen as the leader. He had just defended the faith, after all. And the Ibn Ezra understands that Brit Kehunat Olam means that all future kohanim gedolim would be coming from Pinchas. [And this is detailed for a long period in history in Divrei Hayamim]. Pinchas was a ‘kanoi’ and to lead the nation, you need someone who can deal with the nation and the fact that they have differing needs and points of view. This point is highlighted with the language in 27:15 when Moshe refers to Hashem as ‘Hashem the God of Ruchot for all flesh.’ Moshe uses a similar language in Korach 16:22 [see Ramban there and his rejection of the Rabbeinu Chananel’s reading of psukim] where he is pleading on behalf of the people when Hashem has said he would destroy them all. This context has occurred twice before, by the Egel and the Miraglim where Moshe has prayed on behalf of the people. In each of those three examples, what underlies the dialogue with Hashem is this: People, for the most part, are fickle and will follow the best orator or spokesperson. Moshe pleads with Hashem to allow him, as the leader, to take the responsibility of leading the people back to the proper path. Here in Pinchas, Moshe is pleading with Hashem that he appoint a leader who will be able to lead the people, given they are fickle and will be easily swayed by others along the way. And Yehoshua is chosen.
Yehoshua’s being chosen is followed directly by his standing before Elazar HaKohen to appoint him and then the korbanos. The message here is the leadership must be grounded in the Avodah. And what the structure of the parsha is doing is telling us that the people need a leader who is willing and able to take on the responsibility of dealing with them and their differences and the fact they are fickle by nature, but the leader must be grounded in the Avodah of Hashem. [Avodah in the parsha deals with the sacrifices; this can be taken as symbolizing or including all of Avodat Hashem and what Hashem wants us to
do]
The parsha begins with the act of Pinchas. This act was in essence a protection of the Avodah (as it was under attack from Midyan and their women leading us to Ba’al Peor). Pinchas gets rewarded with Brit Kehunat Olam. Following this, Hashem tells Moshe we have to wage war against the people of Midyan. Our expectation is that battle will then follow. But here the Torah changes course and details the census of the nation – which in context is coming as we are about to enter the land and all the rules and details of the Nachala need to be listed [see Rashi], including the different families and Bnot Tzlaphchad w/ their issue – what if there are no male children in the house. This is followed by Hashem telling Moshe to go up the mountain to pass away as he will not be entering the land – again, a part of the detail of the Nachala. And this is followed by Moshe asking for Hashem to appoint a successor to lead the people in and Hashem choosing Yehoshua – again, a part of the Nachala. Here the Torah changes course again to discuss the Avodah once again, detailing the korbanot for shabbos, rosh chodesh, and Yom Tov.
In summary, the Parsha goes from Avodah to Nachalah to Nachalah to Avodah again. The medrash highlights this with the mashal: a woman who is about to pass on calls to her husband to tell him to watch over her children after she has passed. The husband responds that he wants her to tell the kids what they should be doing to take care of him after she has passed. The nimshal for this is Moshe having the discussion with Hashem about the leadership (who will take care of the nation) and then the Torah having the detail of the Avodah which is our service to Hashem.
To understand the structure of the parsha, we can address the question as to why Pinchas wasn’t chosen as the leader. He had just defended the faith, after all. And the Ibn Ezra understands that Brit Kehunat Olam means that all future kohanim gedolim would be coming from Pinchas. [And this is detailed for a long period in history in Divrei Hayamim]. Pinchas was a ‘kanoi’ and to lead the nation, you need someone who can deal with the nation and the fact that they have differing needs and points of view. This point is highlighted with the language in 27:15 when Moshe refers to Hashem as ‘Hashem the God of Ruchot for all flesh.’ Moshe uses a similar language in Korach 16:22 [see Ramban there and his rejection of the Rabbeinu Chananel’s reading of psukim] where he is pleading on behalf of the people when Hashem has said he would destroy them all. This context has occurred twice before, by the Egel and the Miraglim where Moshe has prayed on behalf of the people. In each of those three examples, what underlies the dialogue with Hashem is this: People, for the most part, are fickle and will follow the best orator or spokesperson. Moshe pleads with Hashem to allow him, as the leader, to take the responsibility of leading the people back to the proper path. Here in Pinchas, Moshe is pleading with Hashem that he appoint a leader who will be able to lead the people, given they are fickle and will be easily swayed by others along the way. And Yehoshua is chosen.
Yehoshua’s being chosen is followed directly by his standing before Elazar HaKohen to appoint him and then the korbanos. The message here is the leadership must be grounded in the Avodah. And what the structure of the parsha is doing is telling us that the people need a leader who is willing and able to take on the responsibility of dealing with them and their differences and the fact they are fickle by nature, but the leader must be grounded in the Avodah of Hashem. [Avodah in the parsha deals with the sacrifices; this can be taken as symbolizing or including all of Avodat Hashem and what Hashem wants us to
do]
Shabbat Parshat Tazria, 5760
The topic was the connection between Tumat Nidah and Tumat Leydah. Rabbi Granatstein brought a Midrash as well as Pshat in Tazria to establish that there is a connection.
He then shifted gears to a Machloket as to the purpose of Milah. RaSaG holds that Brit Milah gives us the opportunity to correct a physical imperfection. This is the execution of our role in perfecting the Jewish body. RaMBaM strongly rejects the notion that anything in Creation is imperfect. Rather, we are causing real physical damage in the service of spiritual gain (i.e. diminished sexual stimulation being sacrificed for greater spiritual potential).
The popular answer as to why the Torah limits Tumat Nidah to 7 days is so that the mother and father shouldn’t be unhappy at the Brit while everyone else is rejoicing. To understand this better, we should strive for a greater understanding of the purpose of the monthly Tumah/Tahara cycle. The Gemara explains it as a way for the husband to appreciate his wife like the day she entered the Chuppah. However, there must be more to this than a monthly honeymoon.
The Harchakot, like not pouring water, not making the bed in the husband’s presence, not washing his hands, face and feet are demonstrative of the fact that Yemei Tumah represent or encourage an entirely different relationship between husband and wife than they have when they are permitted to each other. This is a time for the husband to see his wife as a separate entity with her own ideas, convictions, etc.
This is further demonstrated by the Lashon of two of the Sheva Brachot, whereby the one that addresses the union of the man and woman ends “Mesamayach Chatan Im HaKallah,” and the one that addresses the companionship (Reyim HaAhuvim) ends with “Mesamayach Chatan V’Kallah.” RaShI in Ketubot explains this as Reyim HaAhuvim Zeh Et Zeh.
To bring it all together: The father and mother are then permitted to each other on the day that they go to bring their new child into the Brit which represents an effort at furthering his physical and spiritual perfection.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Launching the Drashot Blog
Baruch HaBa, and thank you for taking the time to view this blog. The primary purpose of this blog, as originally conceived by myself and Herzl Ginsburg is to "capture" the Seduat Shlishit Drashot delivered by Rabbi Melvin Granatstein at Green Road Synagogue. This will not be a forum for debate of the Chidushim, as that would require the direct and continuous participation of the Rav. The plan will be to, at intervals, bring the summaries to our Rav and explore the possibility of assisting and supporting the Rabbi in compiling the Drashot in a manner which would make them available to a wide audience.
Please feel free to suggest ways to make this a better, more effective tool. In the meantime, I would welcome all contributions regarding the weekly Drashot. Essentially, the first person to their computer Motsaei Shabbat will be the one to start a new post and everyone else is welcome to add comments. In this way we'll have a separate thread for each week. I believe that through our collaboration, we will capture the essence of the Rabbi's weekly message and lay the groundwork for an enduring record of these gems. The other nice feature is that this will serve as a resource, albeit suboptimal, for those who miss out on hearing the Drasha first hand on Shabbat afternoon.
Thanks again for joining us in this endeavor.
All best wishes,
Oren Meyers
23 Tamuz 5767
Please feel free to suggest ways to make this a better, more effective tool. In the meantime, I would welcome all contributions regarding the weekly Drashot. Essentially, the first person to their computer Motsaei Shabbat will be the one to start a new post and everyone else is welcome to add comments. In this way we'll have a separate thread for each week. I believe that through our collaboration, we will capture the essence of the Rabbi's weekly message and lay the groundwork for an enduring record of these gems. The other nice feature is that this will serve as a resource, albeit suboptimal, for those who miss out on hearing the Drasha first hand on Shabbat afternoon.
Thanks again for joining us in this endeavor.
All best wishes,
Oren Meyers
23 Tamuz 5767
