It all starts with the sedra, and the relatively innocuous pasuk (17:1) ‘do not offer up to HaShem your God an ox or sheep which has a blemish, (or) anything bad, for it is an abomination (to) HaShem your God.’ As the various commentators reveal, there are two different issues in this pasuk. Firstly, the pasuk is telling us that we are not to offer up any animal which has a physical defect (a mum – pronounced in a Mancunian accent).[1] Secondly, the pasuk is banning pigul.[2] Pigul is basically the illegal declaration (whether verbally or in one’s mind)[3] during any of the processes related to the korban, that the korban is to be eaten outside the permitted timeframe or place. Given that these two prohibitions are in the same pasuk, they should be connected What is the connection between a mum and pigul?
Let’s begin our answer with an insightful comment of the Ksav Sofer.[3b] The Gemarra writes that sometime in the future, HaShem will plonk Klal Yisrael in the sports stadiums and theatres of nations of the world and teach us Torah there. And it’s no coincidence that in March 2005, 20,000 Jews celebrated the daf yomi siyum ha’shas in Madison Square Garden. The Ksav Sofer asks the obvious question here. Mir Yeshiva houses about five thousand people, Ponovetz another thousand, and add that to the various other yeshivas and shuls around; there is ample space to have Klal Yisrael being taught Torah in their home grounds. Are there not enough yeshivas and shuls in the world that HaShem needs to use the Garden, Wembley Stadium, or Broadway – why not use a yeshiva? The Ksav Sofer answers with something remarkable. He writes that the reason sports stadiums will be chosen by HaShem as the venue is in order to imbue us with this same sense of excitement for Torah as is experienced at a sports game. If you can appreciate that a piece of advice from the Talmud, an explanation of one of the Rishonim, a psychological insight of one of the Mussar greats, or an ingenious bit of analysis from one of the pillars of Brisk is no less exciting than a guy wearing a vest jumping for a slam-dunk or a 30-yard piledriver then you have realised something important. HaShem puts us in those same stadiums where people got excited over things that do not really matter so much in the grand scale of things, so that we realise that Torah is just as exciting and far more relevant to our lives than 22 players chasing a round piece of leather.
Indeed, it’s remarkable to note that there is an abnormal amount of buzz and excitement in the realms of sport and entertainment. People can cry at football matches if their team loses, and it can destroy their entire week (or four years) if a shot hit the post as opposed to going over the line. True, people are suffering needlessly in various parts of the world due to war, illness, and famine (etc.), but what really makes (certain) people have emunah questions is ‘why did that referee not see that the ball went over the line?!’ It’s remarkable that there were riots in Bangladesh when there was a power cut during the opening game of the World Cup. Similarly, the students of the main university in Bangladesh went on strike when they found out that lectures which clashed with World Cup games would not be cancelled. Oh, and I do not need to tell you that Bangladesh did not even make it to the World Cup. And let’s face it, many more Englishmen would turn out for a referendum on whether the England manager should be sacked than for the national election. After all, what does the mere matter of education policy rate in comparison to which twenty-year olds will put on the England kit to disappoint you in the next major tournament!? And it’s not only football; people camp out for the night for tickets to Wimbledon, and I cannot imagine how much money is wasted on outfits (and hats) for the Grand National. That’s sport. What about entertainment? Well, many years ago when Star Wars Episode One came out there were people camping outside the first cinema in New York to be screening the film for days to make sure they got the first tickets. There was one person who camped out there for three weeks before the screening. In fact, he was so excited that he stayed up the entire night before the showing and when he finally did get into the cinema he fell asleep during the film (he confirmed this in an interview afterwards)! Similarly, the three sets of slippers that Dorothy wore in the Wizard of Oz went for tens of thousands of dollars in auction, and one solitary sheet of John Lennon’s music went for $100,000. Think about it – I know many needy families who could live for at least two years off that sum of money, and I know many charities who are desperate for such donations, but this wealthy bidder was more than happy to forgo such an exorbitant sum just so he could say ‘I have a handwritten copy of John Lennon’s music.’ Shkoyach.
The Ksav Sofer’s answer tells us that this excitement for sports and entertainment should (at the very least) be matched by the excitement one has for Torah; excitement that comes from the realisation that Torah is real, true, and will actually help one live their life. In fact, have you ever wondered why people get so excited about sport; what is it that pulls someone to say ‘my team won’ even though you are the fellow they have managed to get to fork out money for tickets, the kit, etc? the Vilna Ga’on[4] writes that in order to counteract the enjoyment of learning Torah, HaShem put a powerful presence of leitzanus (lit. scoffing) into the world. As the Ohr Hachaim writes, if we only realised how enjoyable for our souls the study of Torah was, our whole body and soul would be affected by it to the extent that we’d naturally learn Torah as often as possible. So HaShem put the pull and excitement of leitzanus into the world in order to create a challenge for us to want to learn Torah. And as Rav Tzvi Kushulevski said, since leitzanus means attaching importance to something that’s objectively unimportant in reality, sport is one area of leitzanus here. This is the underlying reason why sport and entertainment are so attractive; HaShem purposefully made it that way to balance the spiritual thrill of Torah learning. And this is why it is so important that we learn Torah with a degree of excitement, zest and zeal, in order that we prioritise what really matters in life, as well as redressing this balance.
But let’s get a tiny bit more practical. Who cares if I perform mitzvos and learn Torah with enthusiasm or not; what difference does it make? There are several answers here, ranging from the more spiritual to the more pragmatic.
Firstly, the reward for a mitzvah done with zeal is far greater than for one done with an approach of coldness and dryness.[5] Similarly, the Eglei Tal[6] and Rav Avraham min Ha’har[7] both stress that joy is an integral and central part of learning Torah. Moreover, this is one reason why the Gra insisted that one should learn whichever part of Torah one feels a natural attraction to – for that way one’s learning will be be’simcha. Secondly, and perhaps more essentially, the key to good chinuch and ensuring that the next generation remains committed to Judaism is this idea of fervour and excitement in Judaism. If one does not impart a love and enjoyment for Torah and mitzvos to one’s children, then when they grow up and find that something (everything) else is more exciting than this ‘boring ritual-based religion’ they will simply drop religion. I have seen this many times in chinuch as well; boys who related to Torah and mitzvos as intellectual challenges ended up being less committed than boys who developed an excitement and thrill for Judaism. This is one reason why girls compare so much better to boys in terms of keeping up their religious commitment, despite the fact that girls tend to spend one year in Sem, whilst the average boy (at least where I come from) tends to spend two years in Yeshiva. Why does the girl tend to fare better in the long-run? The Sem girl has been imbued with this excitement and emotional connection with Judaism (girls are more emotionally-driven, remember – hope my wife does not read this) which thus holds them in good stead over and above the boys’ general intellectual approach. This is why learning Mussar is so important – for it rams home this emotional connection to Torah and mitzvos that keeps one steady and committed.
Obviously, this centrality of excitement in mitzvos is not my own idea. The Gemarra[8] notes that the only mitzvos which are constantly kept strong by Klal Yisrael are those mitzvos which we originally accepted with joy (hence so many Jews having a bris milah); for this joy is the key to imparting our tradition to the next generation. The following story tells it all. A new immigrant to America once came to Rav Moshe Feinstein, complaining that his son had started disregarding Shabbos. ‘When I came to America I sacrificed everything to keep Shabbos,’ he wept. ‘I could only hold on to a job for one week, for they’d fire me when I took Shabbos off, and we just about managed to put food on the table. And this is the reward I get – my son breaks Shabbos?’ the man exclaimed. Rav Moshe empathised with the man and simply said ‘when Shabbos arrived each week what was your attitude – what did you say at the Shabbos table?’ ‘Simple,’ said the immigrant ‘I told my kids how much I’d sacrificed for Shabbos and about my worries of finding a new job next week.’ ‘Well,’ said Rav Moshe, ‘had you told them instead about how happy you were that you are able to keep Shabbos and how holy the Shabbos day is then your children would have followed suit. How do you expect your children to keep Shabbos when all they heard from you was how hard it is to keep Shabbos and how much worry and suffering it brings?’
Let’s now move back to our question; what do a mum and pigul have to do with each other? For they are teaching two points about excitement in mitzvos. The prohibition against a mum teaches us that mitzvos must be performed with excitement and fervour – we are to bring the best, korban possible; one with no blemishes. However, as the Chazon Ish stressed,[9] one’s excitement cannot override halacha. One’s excitement must be kept within the framework of halacha, otherwise it’s not constructive excitement. Thus, the prohibition of pigul in a korban tells us our excitement must be framed; the various halachos of when and where to eat the korban must be kept in order to ensure that the mitzvah is still tapping in to HaShem’s spiritual system as opposed to merely being a way for you to gain a thrill.
In summary, be excited!
Have a super Shabbos!!!!!!
[1] Ibn Ezra and Ohr Hachaim 17:1, and Rambam hilchos Issurei Mizbeyach 1:5
[2] Rashi and Ramban 17:1
[3] Whether there needs to be speech for pigul (or thought alone suffices) seems to be a machlokes between Tosafos Bava Metzia 43b ‘hachoshev’ and the Rambam hilchos Psulei Hamukdashim 13:1
[3b] Igros Sofrim, letters of the K’sav Sofer, #18
[4] Gra, Mishlei 1:23
[5] The Shem Mishmuel writes that there is a special cold place of Gehinnom (Scotland, perhaps?) to correct mitzvos that are done without any happiness or excitement. Obviously it’s better to do a mitzvah with no excitement than not to do it at all.
[6] Introduction to Eglei Tal
[7] Rav Avraham min Hahar, Nedarim 48a
[8] Gemarra Shabbos
[9] Chazon Ish, Emunah u’Bitachon perek 3
