Archive for the ‘00. Yomim Tovim’ Category

The Torah explains how to diagnose a metzora, someone stricken with tzaraas: וְרָאָה הַכֹּהֵן וְהִנֵּה כִסְּתָה הַצָּרַעַת אֶת כָּל בְּשָׂרוֹ וְטִהַר אֶת הַנָּגַע כֻּלּוֹ הָפַךְ לָבָן טָהוֹר הוּא – The kohen should check the white mark. If it has cleared from his skin, it is purified. If it has spread and infected his entire body white, he too is purified. (13:13)

If the mark was not purified, the man was sent away from the city for a week.

Tzaraas should not be thought of as a physical disease, for which the metzora was quarantined. If it were so, what of the man whose entire body was stricken? Think of it as a spiritual shortcoming that is physically manifest, for which the metzora is isolated through solitary confinement.

The isolation is a critical part of being cured, but why?

The cause of tzaraas is gossip, which the Torah is highly sensitive to. Gossip is a highly destructive force, tearing apart the fabric of society by planting harmful ideas, destroying perceptions and relationships. The metzora must leave the community because tzaraas can be hidden otherwise – symbolic of how the gossip himself is able to blend into society when he is actually destroying it. This person is not what he seems – or in other words, a fake – and since he can blend, people are not on their guard. The Rema explains that this is not the case with the person whose entire body is stricken – their physical condition matches their spiritual condition – people know to steer well clear of such a person, and this metzora can therefore stay in the city.

Solitary confinement may seem a little extreme, but R’ Yisrael Salanter explains that the punishment fits the crime; the gossip – if telling the truth – is exacting over the finer details of other peoples lives. Such an expert is forced to confront his own character flaws by being exposed to only himself for a week, to rectify his own wrongdoings.

Later on, where the parsha addresses tzaraas affecting the clothing, the Torah reveals a fundamental idea, key to the entire portion of the metzora: וְרָאָה הַכֹּהֵן (…) וְהִנֵּה לֹא הָפַךְ הַנֶּגַע אֶת עינו – The kohen should check, and if the eye of the mark had not reverted… (13:55).

The point of the purification process of a metzora is for the eye to revert. Figuratively speaking, the character flaw that causes tzaraas is the eye that looks at others. At the end of his isolation, his eye should be fixed firmly on his own actions and dealings.

The Divrei Shaul points out how this reflects the Mishna in Avos, that identifies a person with a favourable eye as one of the students of Avraham Avinu, and an evil eye as a student of Bilam. If the metzora’s eye has not been fixed, he cannot end his isolation, because he is not ready to integrate into society.

Around the time the State of Israel was founded, many Jews were fighting and dying every day. A student exclaimed to the Brisker Rov how, “It’s the secular people’s fault! If they kept Shabbos surely no one would die!”.
The Brisker Rov dismissed his foolishness, “When the prophet, Yonah, fled rather than chastise the Jews’ sins – he blamed himself and preferred to be thrown off a boat – בשלי הסער הגדול הזה! Even if the entire nation were idol worshippers like then, we don’t look to others for accountability, we say בשלי הסער הגדול הזה – this great storm is all my fault. A Jew’s job is not to judge, but only to say, “How can I make it better?”".

During the Seder we recite that every person has to feel as if their very selves left Egypt. But why?

We say that מתחלה היה עובדי עבודה זרה, ועכשיו קירבנו המקום לעבודתו – At first, they worshipped strange idols, but now Hashem drew them near, in His service.

This is of huge significance. This is when the transition occurred; we ceased to be slaves, and became a nation free to serve Hashem. But what is ועכשיו קירבנו המקום לעבודתו – but ״now״ Hashem drew them near, in His service? It is precisely for this reason that we are enjoined to feel like we personally left Egypt. In the same way our ancestors had an Exodus that transitioned them into servants of God, we each need to experience our own personal exodus, every year, and renew our own commitment.

The Emek Bracha wonders how at the end of Maggid, we say the opening two paragraphs of Hallel, and yet no Bracha is said on it. He answers how there is no bracha because it is not a Hallel at all! In the names of the parts of the Seder, Hallel is after the meal – the opening two paragraphs take place during Maggid, because they are actually a Shira – a song of praise, like לפיכך – the Shira at the miracle we have to see ourselves as going through!

On the Seder plate, there is a designated section for an egg. All the sections have a more obvious symbolic function, but the egg’s role is less clear.

The Ishbitzer elucidates how the egg is symbolic of the nascent Jewish nation; like an egg requires nurturing and warmth to hatch, the newly formed nation was on its way to “hatching” at Mount Sinai, upon receiving the Torah.

The Rema says that this is the very same egg as on 9 Av, and points out that the fast of 9 Av will always be on the same day of the week as the first night of Pesach. But there is more to it than just that.

Avraham was told his descendants would be enslaved in Egypt. When they left Egypt, the Torah recounts how וּמוֹשַׁב בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֲשֶׁר יָשְׁבוּ
בְּמִצְרָיִם שְׁלֹשִׁים שָׁנָה וְאַרְבַּע מֵאוֹת שָׁנָה – the settlement of the Jews in Egypt lasted 430 years (12:40). (Note: I am aware that the number promised to Avraham is 400. I do not yet have a solution). Not commonly cited, is that “only” 86 of the years spent in Egypt were spent in slavery, which began at Miriam’s birth (hence her name, meaning “bitter”). The early departure was forced because the Jews were mired in the depth of decadence, the 49th level of impurity, beyond which they could not be saved. They had to leave early, if they were ever to leave.

But this means that only one fifth of the prophecied 430 years of slavery was spent in actual slavery. This is slightly hinted to when Yosef interpreted the butler’s dream, where he described how he’d squeezed grapes for Paroh. In the dialogue, the word כוס appears four times. Figuratively, Yosef announced that when the cup was squeezed into, he would walk free, and the same with the Jews in Egypt, that when they were “squeezed” into the כוס – 86 – they walked free. That only one fifth of the time was served is one the explanations of the bizarre word וחמושים – also a source that many Jews did not live to leave Egypt, perishing in the darkness.

The deficit in time is 344 – the word כוס multiplied four times, the numerical value of שמד – disaster. On 9 Av, the Torah portion we read berates us and says שָּׁמֵד תִּשָּׁמֵדוּן – we owe for our early, forced departure from egypt. And on the eve of 9 Av, we eat an egg, in memory of the destruction and imperfection of the world.

As the Rema says, this is the very same egg as on 9 Av. We left early, but leaving Egypt was not the perfect redemption, which we still await. We remind ourselves of this with the egg we eat before 9 Av.

We begin the story telling aspect of the Seder, Magid, with a short prayer, הא לחמא עניא – This is poor man’s bread… But next year, may we have liberty in Jerusalem.

The prayer is not in the usual Hebrew, but in Aramaic, and this presents a thorny issue. Prayers are usually carried to heaven by angels, but angels do not understand Aramaic, and so cannot present prayers in Aramaic; as such, prayers are not meant to be said in Aramaic. Why then, is this portion in Aramaic?

Perhaps there is a way around this issue. There are times when an emissary is not required. There is a Gemara that teaches that Hashem’s presence is manifest in the room of an ill person. Prayers are more effective – there are no angels required; Hashem is right there.

The Shaagas Aryeh points out how the same is true on Yom Kippur – the Kohel Gadol goes into the Kodesh HaKadashim, and utters a prayer in Aramaic. How is that the prayer can pray in Aramaic? It is because he is in the Kodesh HaKadashim, in front of the Ark, where Hashem is manifest. No angels necessary.

Most of the year round, we are under the influence of the Satan. But not all year – השטן has a value of 364, a year, less one day – that is one day per year that the Satan does not influence us – Seder night; it is a Leil Shimurim. When we are enjoined to keep Pesach, we are told that וְשָׁמַרְתָּ אֶת הַחֻקָּה הַזֹּאת לְמוֹעֲדָהּ מִיָּמִים יָמִימָה – the word ימימה is very odd; this is it’s only appearance in the Torah. It has the same initial letters as the second part of Tehillim 93:3 – כִּי הוּא יַצִּילְךָ מִפַּח יָקוּשׁ מִדֶּבֶר הַוּוֹת – Hashem Himself will save us, ימימה. This is why there is no Satan on Seder night. Hashem is there.

Just like on Yom Kippur. Which is one reason for a kittel. But it goes deeper – the animal used for the korban Pesach is set aside on the tenth of the month, the tenth of the month that Yom Kippur is. ימימה is a 24 hour day, but it is not the same day.

It is Leil HaSeder and Yom Kippur that Hashem is in front of us, and therefore we wear a kittel and pray in Aramaic.

It is famously said that Yom Kippur, also known as Yom Kippurim, can be read Yom k’Purim – the day that is like Purim. In this vein, Yom Kippur is only a reflection of what Purim is. It would also be evident that if Yom Kippur is about atonement and teshuva, then Purim would be too, albeit in different manners on the respective days.

All year round, we are meant to give charity, but on Purim, there is a more particular emphasis than usual, so much so that the Rambam codifies it as כל הפושט ידו נותנים לו – whoever holds out his hand, give him.

There are people who say that Purim is therefore a highly auspicious time to pray, as if we reach out to Hashem – פושט ידו – then Hashem will be compelled to respond – נותנים לו.

R’ Yosef Kaplan explains this differently.

We say of Hashem that His יד is פושט to us – His hand is extended to welcome back people who do teshuva. The Halacha on Purim is כל הפושט ידו נותנים לו – if Hashem’s hand is out, how could we not give Him what He seeks, that we return to Him?

In Az Yashir, sung after being saved when the Red Sea split, the declaration they cried was “זה קלי ואנוהו אלקי אבי וארוממנו  - This is my God, and I will glorify Him – the God of my father  - and I will exalt Him.” (15:2)

The Mechilta observes how any maidservants at the sea saw things that even Yechezkel, who had the most vivid prophecies, did not.

Who were theses maidservants exactly; and why would there be any servants among the Jews, a newly free people?

The commentaries wonder how Chazal derived their statement regarding the maidservant from the passuk. The Vilna Gaon, the Maharil Diskin and the Maskil L’David accept  the same view, with slight variations. Rashi writes that there are two parts to the passuk. The second half, that of “אלקי אבי וארוממנו”, is a reference to Hashem being the God of their fathers, illustrating a relationship begun earlier than those  saved at the Sea. The above commentaries explain that the word “זה” is used on both clauses, once for “זה קלי ואנוהו” and then for “זה אלקי אבי וארוממנו”. However, the Jews did not leave Egypt alone. Non-Jewish servants and maidservants, a.k.a. the Eirev Rav, came along in order to convert. Unable to refer to their relationship with Hashem as beginning with their forefathers, substituted “זה קלי ואנוהו” instead. Did the Jews say both statements? Maskil L’David says they did, whereas the Eirev Rav said only “זה קלי ואנוהו”. The Vilna Gaon and Maharil Diskin teach that this passuk was truly split; with the Jews saying”זה אלקי אבי וארוממנו” , and the non-Jewish servants and maidservants saying “זה קלי ואנוהו”.

The commentaries explain how Chazal understood that the maidservant saw “more” than Yechezkel. The word “זה” – “this here” – was used at the Sea to connote something concrete and direct, as opposed to the general “ואראה” – “I was shown” – used in the later prophesies. Chazal saw from this that even this maidservant, essentially any non-Jew who was there, was able to point and say “זה קלי ואנוהו”; and truly saw a greater revelation than even the greatest of the prophets; the Presence of Hashem was manifest in such a great way that one could simply point and say, “This is my G-d”.

Interestingly, there is discussion amongst the Rishonim regarding the nature of Hashem’s “revelation” at the Sea. Rabbeinu Bachayei writes that Chazal do not mean to say that the maaidservant had greater ability to grasp such things, nor were they wiser than Yechezkel. Hashem simply “showed” Himself more at the Sea than He ever did to Yechezkel. The Rambam disagrees; in describing the lofty levels reached by the Jews in the generation of the Exodus and the Desert travels, he writes: “The lowest of them was like Yechezkel, as Chazal say.”. This seems is an obvious reference to the statement of Chazal which is under discussion. Apparently Rambam understood this statement to be descriptive of the nation’s spiritual heights, which enabled them to have as remarkable a revelation as they did.

According to the Rambam, two insights would appear. Firstly, that even the “lowest” Jew at that time was indeed greater than Yechezkal. Secondly, it appears that we need not understand that the maidservant was at least originally non-Jewish. In context, the Rambam is discussing the great level of the Jewish nation at the time, and yet he uses this statement of Chazal as a proof. This leads one to surmise that the Rambam understood that the maidservant in question was Jewish. If this is the case, our original question returns; why is there a “maidservant” in this newly liberated nation?

The Gemara in Sota 11b tells the story of how the pregnant Jewish women in Egypt would go out to the fields to give birth, and would leave their newborns there. To take them home would mean their being captured and tossed into the Nile. Hashem took care of these newborns, sending angels to clean, feed and care for them. When the Egyptians found out about these children living in the fields, they came to kill them. A miracle occurred; the earth would swallow these children deep enough to protect them from Egyptian plows. After the Egyptians left, the children sprouted out of the ground like plants. When they grew up, herds of them would return to their homes. And when Hashem revealed Himself at the Sea, these children “recognized” Him first (having been raised in His presence – see Torah Temima כאן אות ז’), and said: “זה קלי ואנוהו”.  Clearly this Gemara understands that the Jews too said “זה קלי ואנוהו”. Now according to the Maskil L’David, that “זה קלי ואנוהו” was also said by the Jews, this Gemara can be congruent with the Mechilta. However, according to the Vilna Gaon and the others, this Gemara too needs reconciliation with the word usage of the Mechilta: “maidservant,”, and all we are left with is our very question.

וצ”ע.

Avraham’s ultimate test was Akeidas Yitzchak, but the test runs much deeper than it appears at face value. It seems the basic difficulty was that he had to sacrifice his son, although Hashem had said that this very same son would be his heir, and the future of Avraham’s covenant.

The Ran explains that there is much more to it, and points out a major subtlety, that adds a whole new dimension into what was required of Avraham. Hashem says: קַח-נָא אֶת-בִּנְךָ אֶת-יְחִידְךָ אֲשֶׁר-אָהַבְתָּ, אֶת-יִצְחָק, וְלֶךְ-לְךָ, אֶל-אֶרֶץ הַמֹּרִיָּה; וְהַעֲלֵהוּ שָׁם, לְעֹלָה – Please take your son, your only son, whom you love, Yitzchak, and go, for yourself, to the land of Moriah, and sacrifice him,max a burnt offering. (22:2).

The Ran point out that Hashem said קַח-נָא – “please take”. This was a request. It was not a command, it was not an instruction; sacrificing his son was something Hashem desired, but did not demand. It is quite possible that if Avraham had refused, he would not have violated Hashem word, as Hashem had not issued an instruction.

This enhances our view of the difficulty this task posed. Hashem did not require it, and Avraham did not “need” to go through with it. It would just please Hashem were he to go through with it, it ideas his choice. He was not compelled to do it at all.

The Slonimer Rebbe adds a further subtle reference to the turmoil he faced. The pasuk says
that as Avraham approached the place, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham lifted his eyes, and saw הַמָּקוֹם from a distance. (22:4)

Classically, this means that he literally “saw the place”. But הַמָּקוֹם is also a name of Hashem – He is “The Place”, He is everywhere, the Omnipresent.

In this context, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק means that Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem. Avraham was doing what he felt he ought to do, when he knew that what he was doing did not feel right. It tore him apart – he’d spent his whole life fighting idol worship and sacrifice, and yet here he was, about to sacrifice his son, throwing away his entire future, and Hashem had not even demanded it. וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem.

We read this on Rosh Hashana, and perhaps, apart from the obvious merit this story brings, perhaps we can also relate to this on a personal level. Things aren’t always clear cut what we have to do, what’s right. We don’t always “feel it”, but sometimes, we have to persevere with what we have to do, and we will come out better for having done so.

Tosfos explain that Sefiras Ha’Omer is a rabbinical law, in memory of the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash. The reason this is so is that the pasuk says: וּסְפַרְתֶּם לָכֶם מִמָּחֳרַת הַשַּׁבָּת מִיּוֹם הֲבִיאֲכֶם אֶת עֹמֶר הַתְּנוּפָה שֶׁבַע שַׁבָּתוֹת תְּמִימֹת תִּהְיֶינָה – And you shall count for yourselves, from the morrow of the rest day, from the day you bring the omer as a wave offering seven weeks; they shall be complete. (23:15) – that is to say that we start counting from when the Korban Omer is brought.

The Rambam disagrees, and says it is a commandment directly from the Torah to count today. Looking at the above pasuk, it seems difficult to suggest this – so how can we say there is a mitzva today to count the Sefira?

R’ Yaakov Minkus explains that there are two reasons for counting Sefira.

Tosfos say that the Sefira marks the beginning of the harvest cycle. Pesach marks the beginning, and is called ראש הקציר – the head of the harvest. It was marked through the Korban Omer, and allowed the consumption of new grain within the Beis HaMikdash. Shavuos marks the end, and is called חג הקציר  – the celebration of the harvest. It was marked through the Shtei HaLechem, which allowed the consumption of all new produce, everywhere.

The Sefira is the process of enabling produce. We return the first of the harvest, the beginning, to Hashem. The Korban Omer exists to show our fealty and identity with Hashem. The Sefira results from this.

The Rambam explains that the pasuk’s instruction is to count מִיּוֹם הֲבִיאֲכֶם אֶת עֹמֶרfrom the day, that is to say, not from the Korban. So what is it we are counting from today then?

The Sefer HaChinuch teaches that counting Sefira takes us to Har Sinai. It is easy to lose track, and think of Pesach as a standalone day where we celebrate our liberation – it is not so. Pesach was the sole means by which we could get to Shavuos and Har Sinai.

Shavuos, and as a result, Har Sinai, are annual occurrences. They occur without the Korban Omer – this is how it can still be a mitzva to count Sefira. We count מִמָּחֳרַת הַשַּׁבָּת  – from after Pesach, not the Korban itself.

When a person makes a bracha, they say אשר קדשנו במצותיו, וצונו. Women have the first part, the אשר קדשנו במצותיו, but not the second, וצונו. Har Sinai gave us the Torah and it’s 613 commandments in a general sense. The women accepted the Torah in a general sense too. Although women are exempt from many mitzvos, which is to say they don’t have to, it does not mean they cannot grow from their performance –this is קדשנו. A non-Jew who performs a mitzva does not have either part of the bracha, and cannot grow from the performance of a mitzva.

This is the difference between Pesach and Shavuos. Pesach is full of mitzvos, instructions. The Korban Pesach, circumcision, the Seder we do nowadays. In performing Hashem’s instructions, we became His people, subjugated to Him. This is all וצונו. However, Sinai is Torah. This gave mitzvos a קדשנו – which women are also subject to. Sefira connects the אשר קדשנו במצותיו to the וצונו.

But the Sefira is not “just” to connect Pesach to Shavuos, the mitzvos to the Torah; but also, the other way around, Shavuos to Pesach. The first of the Ten Commandments is אָנֹכִי ה’ אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֲשֶׁר הוֹצֵאתִיךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם מִבֵּית עֲבָדִים – (to know that) “I am the Lord, your God, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage”. How can the first (or any) commandment be faith?

The first command specifies that Hashem took us out of Egypt. Egpyt and faith are inextricably linked. We were not liberated from Egypt at all – we were transferred. In the same way we recognised that Hashem had taken us out of Egypt, that same Hashem was giving us the Torah, based on a belief in Him. Sinai’s eternity is based on having been taken out of Egypt, and in this way Sefira links Shavuos and Pesach, both backwards and forwards.

There is a large debate regarding the Matza on Pesach. Is it because of the slavery, the poor man’s bread; or is it because of the freedom, that they left before they had time to bake bread properly?

The Sfas Emes explains that we cannot celebrate being freed from Egypt on it’s own; we must praise the fact we were enslaved as well. The reason the slavery must have been a good thing, is that if we were capable of being a nation that could serve Hashem in slavery, we weren’t in need of being saved, and the slavery itself would serve no purpose. So we must say that being enslaved in Egypt was a key part of the process through which we became Hashem’s people.

The simple explanation of this is that by being in crushing and devastating slavery, the people were pushed far beyond their comfort zones, and far beyond the extremes of what they thought they were capable of. This was a demonstration to the people that all the arrogance and haughtiness of man could be removed, and a person could devote his entire being to something. This was a key stage in becoming Hashem’s servants – the people knew that they were capable of giving their all, which they might not have been able to had they not been through the ravages of slavery.

The Sfas Emes explains that this is what all evils and bad things in life are for – they educate us about our limits, and more than that, they show us the opposite extremes to which we can aspire and attain. This is the only purpose they serve, just like Egypt. If they weren’t there to help us become closer to Hashem, they would have no function.

The Sfas Emes explains that this was the only moment in which the Jews could have accepted Hashem as their King properly, that  in the same way they had been entirely subjugated to Paroh, they could now subjugate themselves entirely to Hashem. This was the critical moment the Jews were born as a nation. However, the procedure and process started earlier. As we say in Shema every day: אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלוקים – “That I took you out of Egypt to be for you a God” (Bamidbar 15:41). The implication is clear – we had to have been in Egypt before, in order to be taken out to become everything we were meant to be.

The Sfas Emes re-emphasises that being Hashem’s people hinged on the need to have removed the arrogance and haughtiness of man. This is what the pasuk means when it says that טוב אחרית הדבר מראשיתו – “the end is better than the beginning” (Koheles 7:8). It was not pleasant to be in Egypt, but what followed was receiving the Torah.

The Sfas Emes tells us that our celebration of leaving Egypt must hinge around the fact that we became better once we left – we accepted Hashem as our King and our God, and we received the Torah. The first thing we did on being freed was for Hashem – this is why there is a concept of firsts going to Hashem, for example the korban Omer (and Pidyon haBen, bikkurim etc).

This is what is so vital on Seder night, to relive the Exodus from Egypt. It is when we became God’s people.

The Sfas Emes answers that this is why Matza correlates to the slavery and poverty – it is devoid of the arrogance and haughtiness. But it also correlates to the freedom – the process of freedom started when we were slaves. It is how we became truly free to serve Hashem. Our freedom stems from having not been free once.

 

In the Haggada we read; “חכם מה הוא אומר? “מה העדות והחוקים והמשפטים אשר צו ה אלוקינו אתכם – What does the wise son ask? What are the testimonies, statutes and laws that God our Lord commanded you?”

The Sfas Emes understands that the wise son is asking the reasons behind the laws, not the laws themselves. Since he is the wise son, it is assumed that he knows the laws. However, how can he ask for a reason for the חוקים ? חוקים do not have reason. Included in חוקים, for example, are the Para Aduma and sha’atnez. These mitzvos have no obvious reason. So why does the wise son ask for the reason for these mitzvos?

In Sefer Tehillim, we say; “מַגִּיד דְּבָרָיו לְיַעֲקֹב חֻקָּיו וּמִשְׁפָּטָיו לְיִשְׂרָאֵל – He told his words to Yakov, His statutes and laws to Israel”. מַגִּיד is a discussion – the implication is that חוקים is not just an instruction, but a talking point, something that was discussed. So we see that really, חוקים have meaning as well. How can we come to know these reasons? The Sfas Emes explains that the way to attain an understanding of the חוקים is by doing them even without understanding, but with the belief that what we are doing has a deeper meaning. By performing these mitzvos without understanding the reason, we merit knowing the reason as well eventually.

The Sfas Emes explains that the mitzvah of matzah alludes to this. The matzah is made of flour and water. It has no additional taste. In Hebrew the same word is used for taste and for reason – טעם. We specifically do not add any טעם to it to show that the mitzvah itself has enough טעם for us.

Through this, we develop a closeness with Hashem, a Naaseh v’Nishma of sorts, that we do what Hashem commands even though we don’t know why we were commanded.

The answer we give the wise son is, “We do not eat any dessert after the Pesach lamb.” He wants to know the טעם for the mitzvos including the חוקים . We tell him that the way to know the reasons is to do them, without knowing why, but with faith in Hashem Who commanded us. We give him a hint when we tell him not to add to the טעם of the Korban Pesach.

It seems that the Sfas Emes is saying that by asking the right question, it leads us to see that it is more important trust in Hashem than know why.

אֵשׁ תָּמִיד תּוּקַד עַל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ לֹא תִכְבֶּה – A continuous fire shall burn upon the altar; it shall not go out. (Vayikra 6:6)

עשרה ניסים נעשו בבית המקדש (…) ולא כבו הגשמים את עצי המערכה – Ten miracles occurred in the Temple: (…), and the rains did not extinguish the logs on the fire (of the Mizbeach). (Avos 5:5)

It seems odd that the miracle that occurs here is supernatural. Miracles are meant to seem as natural as possible, and it would have been simpler to manipulate nature, so that rain wouldn’t fall on the Mizbeach at all, rather than have rain fall on the fire but not extinguish it. What is the purpose of the miracle being deliberately more complicated than need be?

R’ Chaim Volozhin suggests that there is a very powerful message we can learn from this.

Sometimes we wish that the circumstances around us would just change, that our “rain” would just stop. But it is evident from the Mishna that the circumstances won’t just change to suit our individual needs; just as אֵשׁ תָּמִיד תּוּקַד עַל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ – the fire burnt on the Mizbeach cotinuously– even in the pouring rain, it would not go out.

We can have all the excuses in the world to stop and falter from what is required of us as Jews. But we have a clear role model in how to conduct ourselves in the Mizbeach. Instead of shying away from our responsibilities, we need to persevere. People pray for miracles, when they don’t see that they need to their hishtadlus – their part. This hishtadlus is the part we play in solving our problems, and thus our problem’s solution is in our own hands. If we keep at what we’re meant to, we will be our own miracles. Our miracles won’t come on their own.

The fire on the Mizbeach was not allowed to be in a state of not being lit – if this was done through a miracle, what is the need for an instruction to not extinguish it? Perhaps we can explain in a similar vein that the fire wasn’t “magic”. It didn’t burn on it’s own with nothing there. It required constant replacement of logs of wood, and over hundreds of years, did not go out.  The pasuk says as much: אֵשׁ תָּמִיד תּוּקַד – it never stopped. This is a further indication we need do our part to see G-d’s hand. It won’t play itself.

We can further say that the Kohen Gadol went into the Kodesh Kadashim once per year, on Yom Kippur. He performed the service, and said one prayer. The sole prayer that as ever said in the Kodesh Kadashim was this. The most holy prayer of the year was that Hashem should not listen to the travellers and tourists that it shouldn’t rain, and that it should rain as much as possible. Through rain we see the hand of G-d, and this further shows the importance of “letting it rain” and working around it, rather than having it not rain at all.

Va’yomer ki yad al keis Y-ah, milchamah l’Hashem ba’amalek midor dor.‘

And He (God) said, ‘For there is a hand upon the throne of God; Hashem’s war with Amalek spans all generations’.’ (Shemos 17:15)

This prominent passuk, relevant to Parashas Zachor, cries out profusely for explanation. Rashi, in his awesome genius, teaches that here God is swearing that He wages an eternal war and has a seething enmity against Amalek. Based on the Medrash Tanchuma (Ki Seitzei 11), Rashi also points out that the word used for throne in this verse, כס, has a different spelling to the usual,   כסא. In addition, the Name of God that is used in this passuk isי-ה , which contains only half of the letters that comprise Hashem’s full and ineffable four-letter appellation. Rashi concludes that this is also part of a Divine oath, that neither God’s Name not his throne can be complete until Esav’s name is eradicated. Esav is the antecedent and spiritual underpinning of Amalek.

The Maharal, in his opus Gur Aryeh, takes us deeper, one level at a time. He begins by probing with penetrating precision the unique essence of Amalek and why he is such a formidable opponent of God, Truth and Klal Yisrael. The Maharal states that unlike other nations, Amalek is an incessant enemy of the Jews, who recalcitrantly opposes them in a whirlwind of diabolical antagonism. Indeed, it was revealed in Sefer Bereishis, through the inability of Esav and Yaakov to reside in the same womb, that Amalek and the Jews are incompatible entities, diametrically opposing forces in the supernal spheres. If one rises, the other must fall. This conflict was glaringly illustrated when Amalek attacked the Jews as they came out of Mitzrayim. As Rashi comments, Amalek is even prepared to commit suicide if it will dampen the flames of Jewish inspiration. The Amalekim are the original Kamikaze pilots, the troll-like foot soldiers whose anti-Semitism will stop at nothing.

Yet how exactly does Amalek cause Hashem’s Name to be rendered incomplete? It is surely a fundamental Torah precept that God is omnipotent and infinite; his completeness is autonomous and indestructible. He created Amalek and the notion that a band of Nazis can in some way limit their Creator is doctrinally unthinkable according to Jewish dogma. Furthermore, how does Amalek seemingly dethrone Hashem? This aspect of the Medrash appears to be equally baffling.

The Maharal explains that Hashem’s name reflects absolute oneness. Indeed, we declare thrice daily the renowned mantra, ‘Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad’—Hashem’s Name is Echad – One. Now, oneness is harmony’s partner and is undermined by discord and disunity which is exactly what Amalek stands for. Because a partnership between Yisrael and Amalek is impossible, division enters the universe. This broken world now becomes a place where the Divine Name is concealed since its radiant oneness is blurred by Amalek‘s obfuscating machinations. Of course, Hashem is impeccably One and is utterly unaffected by the rancour of this pernicious yet mortal tribe. It is merely that our perception of Him and His oneness is diminished by Amalek‘s divisive influence. The word Amalek, which has the numerical equivalent (gematria) of safek, meaning doubt, brings exactly that into our realm. Amalek‘s existence causes us doubt to ourselves and our better judgment. What was once a clear and lucid appreciation of God’s uniqueness becomes distilled, fragile and belittled.

This also explains how Amalek limits God’s throne. The throne represents the concept of malchus, Hashem’s undisputed kingship over the world and its inhabitants. This notion is also rooted in the idea of God’s oneness. Only when there is a unique and aloof monarch can true sovereignty reign supreme. That is the reason, writes the Maharal, why we say, ‘Baruch shem k’vod malchuso l’olam va’ed’ immediately following the declaration of ‘Hashem echad‘ in the Shema. This demonstrates that God’s malchus is predicated on His uniqueness as king. Amalek‘s splintering fangs contaminate and ultimately destroy this recognition.

The avodah on Purim is the alchemist’s charge: to turn this turpitude of Amalek into religious gold. When we blur the distinction between Baruch Mordechai and Arur Haman, between good and evil, we revisit a world in which Amalek no longer dulls our senses and numbs our hearts. We catch a glimpse of the Source of all, the King of kings, Whose existence is unlike any other and Who lovingly awaits our reaching out Him.

 

 

At Kadesh – we  drink the first of the four cups of wine. Each of the four cups of wine symbolizes the four highlights of the seder at which we drink one of the cups: the first at Kadesh, the second at Maggid, the third at Barech and the fourth at Hallel.

The ability of a kiddush is to draw a distinction between that evening and other evenings. The way we do this is through remembering Yetzias Mitzrayim – the Exodus. We do this through a passing mention of  “זכר ליציאת מצרים“-  in memory of Yetzias Mitzrayim. The reason we do this is because Yetzias Mitzrayim is the שרש – the root – of being Hashem’s people. The Sefer Hachinuch goes so far as to say that most mitzvos do have a direct link to Yetzias Mitzrayim.

The function of any kiddush is to express service, allegiance and fealty to Hashem. This is true of kiddush on every Shabbos and all Yomim Tovim. This is the first cup of wine that we drink.

The second is drunk at Maggid. Maggid’s place in the Seder is to perform the mitzva of סיפור יציאת מצרים – the in depth discussion of the events of Yetzias Mitzrayim - rather than the זכר of Kadesh. The function of the mitzva of סיפור יציאת מצרים is to recreate and relive the events, rather than to remember. The wording of the halacha is “כל דור ודור חייב אדם לראות את עצמו כאלו הוא יצא עתה” -

To fulfill the mitzva of סיפור , there are three requirements. The first is the most basic – the engagement that occurs in question and answer form. This engagement constitutes a dialogue that differentiates it from the monologue of a זכר . This is the educational aspect of סיפור .

The second requirement of סיפור is for the Seder to envision Yetzias Mitzrayim. This is achieved through the story telling aspect of Maggid. As with any story, it begins with a problem and ends with a solution.

The final, most demanding requirement of סיפור is the טעמי הצמוות – the rationale behind the mitzvos of the Seder must be explained and understood.

R’ Chaim Brisker says that these requirements distinguish the mitzva of סיפור from the regular mitzva of זכר . The mitzva of סיפור constitutes a key highlight of the Seder, and this is why the second cup of wine is drunk at the end of Maggid.

The third cup is consumed at the conclusion of Birchas Hamazon, Barech. The function of the bracha is to give thanks to Hashem for what we have eaten – so the bracha goes back on all the אכילות מצוה – the Matza, Marror as well as the meal. The instructions to perform these mitzvos created the circumstances through which we could leave Egypt – the Jews had to eat the Korban Pesach the night the Egyptian firstborns died. The bracha of Birchas Hamazon is the conclusion of all the mitzvos of the evening, and as such, is as much key highlight as the mitzvos themselves were, and the reason we drink the third cup of wine at this point.

The fourth cup  is drunk at the conclusion of Hallel. Hallel is a shira, a song of praise and gratitude for all the kindness Hashem has done for us, which is what the whole Seder was about.

Wine is chashuv – it is prestigious and indicates prominence. It is with wine that we mark the prominent events of the Seder, and as we have now seen, the junctures at which we drink encompass the entire evening.

The opening pasuk in Parshas Vayakhel reads: “וַיַּקְהֵל מֹשֶׁה אֶת כָּל עֲדַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָם’ – Moses gathered the whole community of the children of Israel to assemble, and he said to them: “These are the things that the Lord commanded to do” (35:1)

The Nesivos Shalom asks three questions.

This is the sole instance of וַיַּקְהֵל – an instruction to gather all the people together – in the entire Torah, where וַיַּקְהֵל is the first thing mentioned in the episode. What is so exceptional about this instruction of וַיַּקְהֵל, that makes it unique?

Secondly, the opening statement was “לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָם” – to do – the instructions are not to light fire, and not to work. How is not doing something called “לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָם” – to do?

Furthermore, this episode occurred directly after the Eigel (Golden Calf), as Rashi explains that Parshas Vayakhel occurred the morning after Yom Kippur, when Moshe returned with the second luchos. It seems obvious that his first public appearance upon his return would be a notable message to the people regarding the bridge between G-d’s wrath and appeasement. What was it that atoned for the sin of the Eigel? (more…)

וּפַרְעֹה הִקְרִיב וַיִּשְׂאוּ בְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶת עֵינֵיהֶם וְהִנֵּה מִצְרַיִם נֹסֵעַ אַחֲרֵיהֶם וַיִּירְאוּ מְאֹד וַיִּצְעֲקוּ בְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶל יְ־הֹוָ־ה:

10. Pharaoh drew near, and the children of Israel lifted up their eyes, and behold! the Egyptians were advancing after them. They were very frightened, and the children of Israel cried out to the Lord. (14:10)

The Torah doesn’t say ’ – קרוב he came near’ i.e. that he and his army approached, but ’הקריב  - he brought near’. The Medrash says that what he “brought” was the Jews, closer to Hashem.

This is a pretty big merit to have – why is Pharaoh credited with it at all, and what is it he did which deserved such high recognition?

Prior to the Jews leaving Egypt, there was a debate in Heaven as to whether the Jews should be allowed to leave and have their redemption, but the mekatreig (prosecution) countered every argument put forward to absolve the Jews. (Just as the Jews believed in G-d, so did Pharaoh, as it says ‘Hashem hatzaddik v’ani v’ami harshaim’  - a clear recognition of Hashem – and so forth.)

The deciding factor in permitting Yetzias Mitzrayim to occur was when Moshe said “follow me” and they did – in the merit of following their leader faithfully, they were evacuated from Egypt.

Pharaoh sought to remove this merit -וּפַרְעֹה הִקְרִיב  (14:10) – and the result was 14:11:

וַיֹּאמְרוּ אֶל מֹשֶׁה הַמִבְּלִי אֵין קְבָרִים בְּמִצְרַיִם לְקַחְתָּנוּ לָמוּת בַּמִּדְבָּר מַה זֹּאת עָשִׂיתָ לָּנוּ לְהוֹצִיאָנוּ מִמִּצְרָיִם:

’They said to Moses, Is it because there are no graves in Egypt that you have taken us to die in the desert? What is this that you have done to us to take us out of Egypt?’

He severed their attachment to Moshe, and they cried out to Hashem directly but blamed Moshe for their troubles.

So Hashem replies in 14:15 –  מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי –  that the Jews have to have faith in Moshe Rabbeinu again, as that had been the deciding factor in their favor, without which there could be no salvation. What we see here is that Pharaoh bringing the Jews close to Hashem is no praiseworthy at all – his entire goal to bring the Jews close to G-d was at the exclusion of Moshe from the equation, surely dooming them.

So Hashem responds in 14:15:

וַיֹּאמֶר יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶל מֹשֶׁה מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעוּ

15. The Lord said to Moses, Why do you cry out to Me? Speak to the children of Israel and let them travel.

Their salvation is not going to be based on Moshe’s prayers, as that wasn’t the problem.

There is a small side question here –   דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעוּ – what was the need for a dibbur, a speech, to tell them to go, why not just tell Moshe to lead them – rather than him being instructed to tell them that he is to lead them?

As we have established, the problem was that they weren’t interested in Moshe – so Hashem told him the solution דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעו – their salvation would be as it was on leaving Egypt – through following their leader.

As the Pasuk says upon their entering the Red Sea 14:31: וַיַּאֲמִינוּ בַּי־הֹוָ־ה וּבְמֹשֶׁה עַבְדּוֹ

One of the most incredible miracles of all times occurs, the Splitting of the Sea, and it’s conclusion happens the same way it began:

וַיֹּאמֶר ה אֶל מֹשֶׁה נְטֵה אֶת יָדְךָ עַל הַיָּם וְיָשֻׁבוּ הַמַּיִם עַל מִצְרַיִם עַל רִכְבּוֹ וְעַל פָּרָשָׁיו – Hashem said to Moshe; “Stretch your hand over the sea, and the water will crash back onto the Egyptians, their chariots, and their horseriders. (14:26)

R’ Shimshon Pinkus wonders why it was necessary for him to lift his hand to “close” the sea, as he did when it came to splitting it. Returning the sea to its normal natural state would seem to be something that just ought to “happen”.

R’ Shimshon Pinkus explains that Hashem was trying to teach the Jews an essential lesson about “natural” occurrences. Quite understandably, splitting the sea requires an action of some sort because it was a miracle; but the returning of the sea to its natural state is a miracle too!

We take the laws of nature and physics for granted – Hashem was expressing that we ought not to. There is no fundamental reason which causes things to happen; it is all Hashem. This was the underlying message of Hashem’s command for Moshe to stretch out his hand, in the same way, to both start and conclude the miracle.

מקום הנחת נר חנוכה פתח הבית מבחוץ

(גמרה שבת כא:ב)

The Gemara says that the actual מצוה of lighting candles is to light them in the entrance of the house – the doorway.

Rashi says that even in a house with a courtyard one lights at the front door of his house, not the courtyard. Tosfos comments that a courtyard with two gates needs two menorahs. One at each gate – seemingly not at the ‘front doorway’ at all.

But the Gemara said ‘פתח’ – door, so although Tosfos say that the mitzva has nothing to do with a door, he also says that only in a house with no courtyard would one light at the door.

What’s is the basic logic that led Rashi and Tosfos to such opposite ideas?
They were arguing what the focal point of the statement in the Gemara was: Was itחוץ  (outside), to accomplish the mitzvah of publicising the miracle as the key goal or בית (the house) to accomplish להדליק as the key goal.

So according to Rashi you should light inside a house as the primary mitzva, but lighting at the door satisfies the secondary mitzva of publicising the event.
Tosfos is of the opposite opinion in both aspects. The primary function of lighting a menora is to publicise the event – and as such Tosfos says that one should light as close to the public as possible, and the בית aspect is secondary.

The Beis Halevi asks: According to the respective views regarding the meaning of ‘פתח’ – do you light inside of door, or outside?
Again Rashi and Tosfos have opposite opinions:
Tosfos says that it means inside of the courtyard door while Rashi says it means outside of the front door.
Their reasoning being as follows:

Rashi says that lighting inside a house is not public at all, thereby serving a house’s primary function, but if so then there is no Pirsumei Nisa; to achieve this, lighting must be done outside.
Tosfos says that it needs to be inside the courtyard, as an outside courtyard is the public domain. It also needs to be connected in some way to the בית the Gemara referenced, and be lit on private property.

The Pri Chadash asks a new question: What if a house has a door and a window, and the house has no courtyard – where would one light their menora?
Yet again Rashi and Tosfos have converse opinions. According to Tosfos you do it at the window which is following the idea of Pirsumei Nisa as a window is more public than at the door. However, Rashi uses the idea of בית and says it should be by the door.

Next question: What would happen if one lit in the courtyard of their house? – Tosfos says that one has fulfilled the mitzva l’chatchila (the way it’s meant to be), whereas Rashi says one would not be fulfilling the mitzva at all.

There are 2 ברכות – להדליק נר (the Bracha on the mitzva to light), and שעשה ניסים לאבותינו (the Bracha commemorating the miracle).
In conclusion there are two concepts: First, lighting like they lit. With the lighting, we commemorate the chanukas habayis (re-inauguration event) of removing the impure foreign elements from the Beis Hamikdash, Second, is remembering the great miracle.
The miracle is a symbol of the Yom Tov’s historical re-inauguration event, but the main goal was lighting the Menora itself.

The question is asked: Was it, in fact, the lighting or was lighting the Menora special because of the miracle that occurred, demonstrating G-D’s valuation of our actions?

If we follow Rashi’s reasoning, the primary mitzva is commemorating the re-inauguration, and the main goal is ‘להדליק נר של חנוכה’ in your house and to light inside. Publicizing the miracle and the miracle itself is only a symbol of the main event of inauguration and as such Pirsumei Nisa is secondary to the mitzvah of actually lighting the Menorah.

If we follow Tosfos’s reasoning, the miracle was the main event of Chanuka – the re-inauguration – so publicising is essential, and done as closely as possible to the public domain. There was a secondary part that the miracle itself came about through the lighting of the menora, so we satisfy that aspect of it and light a menora too.

Geshmack!

Every year, in the Yom Kippur Mussaf, we recall  the death of the Ten Martyrs in the prayer of  ”אלה אזכרה” – ‘These I shall recall’.

One of the reasons revealed to us about their death is expounded on by the prayer itself, quoting the Midrash, that the Ten Martyrs died as an atonement for what the brothers did to Yosef. It’s a beautiful prayeriyut, but the problem is that there were Ten Martyrs and only nine brothers around at the selling of Yosef. This was because Rueven left at that very moment to do T’shuva, Binyamin was a small child, and Yosef probably didn’t want to sell himself. So why do we focus so much on ten when in truth there should only have been nine deaths?
The Nizuztei Shimshon (see Forgiveness – Big Deal) in Parshas Baholoscha answers by saying that after the brothers sold Yosef they made a חירם (excommunication decree) to be applied on anyone who revealed the truth about what happened to their brother to Yaakov Avinu.

But, as mentioned above, there were only nine brothers present and for the חירם to come into effect there would need to be ten male Jews present – a מנין. Thus says the מדרש that Hakodesh Baruch Hu joined together with the nine brothers to be the tenth and to create the official חירם.
Nine Martyrs gave up their lives as a קבלה from the heavens to be an atonement for the nine brothers. One of the Martyrs gave up his life כנגד ה who joined the minyan to complete the חירם as mentioned above. The Nizutzei Shimshon tells us that R’ Akiva was merited to give up his life כנגד ה. Why Hashem joined with the brothers to sell Yosef is a story in its own, but why was R’ Akiva merited to be killed כנגד ה?
In גמרה Bava Kama 41b it discusses how there were two Tanaaim who expounded on all instances of the word ”את” appearing in the torah. “את”, according to these Tanaaim, was always including another rule that was very well hidden in the Torah. Everything was going well until these Tanaaim reached the pasuk of “את ה תראה”  – ‘Hashem your G-d you shall fear’. They couldn’t learn anything from this “את” because what could it be adding? What should man be fearing more than G-d himself? Therefore they were unable to complete  their entire ‘project’ from lack of being able to expound upon this one “את”.

Generations later Rabbi Akiva figured out that final explanation. He said the “את” was including Talmidei Chachamim, that one must fear the Talmidei Chachamim just as much as he fears G-d. Now we have a basic explanation for why Rabbi Akiva was chosen כנגד ה . Rabbi Akiva brought Hashem and the Talmidei Chachamim to the same level. Not חלילה that they have the same power, but to say that a Talmid Chacham must be revered just as we revere Hashem. With this power that Rabbi Akiva had, to bring the world to recognize the trepidation one must have for his Rav, he merited to be taken כנגד ה.

As heard from R’ Yakov Minkus
 
ז. זְכֹר יְמוֹת עוֹלָם בִּינוּ שְׁנוֹת דּוֹר וָדוֹר שְׁאַל אָבִיךָ וְיַגֵּדְךָ זְקֵנֶיךָ וְיֹאמְרוּ לָךְ
7. Remember the days of old; reflect upon the years of [other] generations. Ask your father, and he will tell you; your elders, and they will inform you.
  
טז. יַקְנִאֻהוּ בְּזָרִים בְּתוֹעֵבֹת יַכְעִיסֻהוּ
16. They provoked His zeal with alien worship; they made Him angry with abominations deeds.

Ha’azinu is a repetition of history and everything that happened in the Torah so far for example:
 
The first letters in the first 4 psukim are:
ה = הַאֲזִינוּ
י =  יַעֲרֹף 
כ = כִּי
ה = הַצּוּר 
 
These four letter equal a gematria of 40, corresponding to the letter מ.  The 5th pasuk starts with a  שֶׁ and the sixth starts with a ‘ה’.     
מ + ש + ה = משה 
 
The Midrash Tanchuma says that an author usually writes his name at the end of his book. If we apply this here then Ha’azinu seems to be the end of the Torah, even though on first glance it seems that the parsha of V’Zos Habracha is the final parsha. However, if we look into it then we will see that in fact, V’Zos Habracha is not a halachic or historical parsha, it is ’merely’ Moshe’s farewell speech to the Jewish People and his Brachos to them.

In last week’s parsha, Nitzavim-Vayelech, it says, ‘כִּתְבוּ…הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת’.

In this weeks parsha it says, ‘הַאֲזִינוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם…וְתִשְׁמַע הָאָרֶץ’ Finally, in the beginning of the Torah, parshas Bereishis it says, ‘ א. בְּרֵאשִׁית בָּרָא אֱ־לֹהִים אֵת הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֵת הָאָרֶץ: The Sefer Yetzira says that the end of an era, or in this case, the Torah, reflects the beginning.

There is an argument as to whether the instruction of ‘כִּתְבוּ…הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת’ is on Ha’azinu, or the whole torah. However, if we bring in the fact that the end should reflect the beginning, it is not a question, or an argument because they are inextricably linked and, essentially, one and the same.

There is a ‘יסוד’ – a ‘secret insight’ about the importance of Heaven and Earth, of שמים וארץ. In their essence, they interact through גשם – rain and the water cycle reflects this interaction, as we will now explain:

 
ג. כִּי שֵׁם יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶקְרָא הָבוּ גֹדֶל לֵאלֹהֵינוּ
3. When I call out the name of the Lord, ascribe greatness to our God. (Devarim 32:3)
The Rambam explains, ‘כִּי שֵׁםה’ is in שמים and ’הָבוּ גֹדֶל’ is on the ארץ. Effectively, this means that we have בכירה - a free will to see the physical in this world, elevate it in our own way and aquire the ability to be spiritual. Creating our own spirituality through the pre-existing physicality of the world.
Rain, in its being, improves, fixes, nourishes and revitalises everything it ’touches’  and this is the ’שפע’ – ‘goodness’ from שמים that provides production in the world.

We, in our own way, can connect to שמים through two different mediums - תורה and תפילה.

Why do we daven for rain? For the obvious reason that we are not looking for the physical aspect – but for the recognition of Hashem’s hand and part in our day to day physical lives.
Through תפילה, we connect to שמים and bring it down to ארץ, and through תורה we elevate the world and bring it up to שמים
Rain has two states of being. One of them being the vapor state, where moisture evaporates and ‘rises’ into the sky, and it condenses and ‘descends’ to earth.

Ha’azinu is the summary of the purpose of creation - history has proven that when we acheive this function of linking שמים וארץ, life unfolds pleasantly, and when there hasn’t been a link, there has been devastation and destruction.

 
אז הוחל: (לשון חולין) לקרא את שמות האדם ואת שמות העצבים בשמו של הקב”ה לעשותן עבודה זרה ולקרותן אלהות:
Then it became common: הוּחַל, is an expression of חוּלִין – profaneness: to name people and idols with the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, to make them idols and to call them deities. (Bereishis 4:26)
During the time of the דור ענוש there was a lot of עבודה זרה. Shamayim was ‘stopped’ and as a result the seas swelled and consumed a third of the earth – thus proving that when we sin through שמים/ תפילה we get punished through the ארץ. 
 
On the other hand, during the דור המבול the Jews sinned through the land and therefore, suffered punishment through the שמים – it rained for 40 days and 40 nights. Thus proving that when we sin through ארץ  we get punished through שמים.
 
The Zohar says that the דור המבול should have received the תורה.    
 
120 years of שת’s life was taken in order for נח to be able to wait 120 years.  Then there was the 40 days of rain which was נגד הר סיני, and when הר סיני happened, people thought there would be another מבול.

‘Vatishaches ha’aretz’ - The תורה was there to be able to elevate the physical.

Hashem broke up the world into nations, and the Jews were the link בין שמים וארץ.
In the מדבר, and when we had the ananei hakavod with us, we were with hashem, and truly experienced שמים on the ארץ on our level. When we got to ארץ ישראל, we experienced an ארץ elevated closer to שמים.
If or when we lose ארץ ישראל, we lose the connection between שמים וארץ, and the other nations will have the power to overtake and dominate us.
 
To conclude, the pasuk says, ‘הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת’  and we asked, ’is it ספר תורה or תפילה?’, the answer is that it is both. When we sing it as a prayer, its שמים בארץ. When we learn it, its ארץ לשמים.

Parshas Haazinu commences with the dramatic  appointment of Heaven and earth to be  witnesses and guarantors to the Covenant between G-d and Israel.

There is a distinct disparity between the verbs used in the opening verse:

א. הַאֲזִינוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם וַאֲדַבֵּרָה וְתִשְׁמַע הָאָרֶץ אִמְרֵי פִי

1. Listen, O heavens, and I will speak! And let the earth hear the words of my mouth. (Devarim 32:1)

Heaven is requested to listen to the proceedings with “הַאֲזִינוּ”, literally “to incline one’s ear”. Whereas the earth is merely told “to hear” – “תִשְׁמַע”. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch picks up on this point and explains it as follows: “Inclining one’s ear” expresses a greater degree of readiness to listen to what is being said than “hearing”. For surely one can hear without exerting any effort, or even without wishing to; but  “to incline one’s ear” clearly means that one wishes to make an effort to listen and be concerned with what is going on.

We can now understand the reason why Heaven is commanded with a more active imperative and the earth a more passive one. The upholding of the Covenant comes in first place from Heaven and only then, indirectly,  is it unfolded on earth. Heaven is indeed active, the earth more passive; for all blessings, and indeed curses, of the physical development of the earth and its dependants  (human social conditions) hinge on extraterrestrial cosmic conditions which exist in what we term “the heavens”. What is to develop on earth must commence with the actions of the heavens. This is why God directly commands the heavens in this manner, whereas the earth is given a more passive role, for its conditions arise as a direct result of the goings on in Heaven.

The Sifre compares this introduction of Moshe’s speech to one given by Yeshaya. Yeshaya uses similar language and remarks: “shemu hashamayim, vehazini ha’aretz” (Yeshaya 1:2); this is the exact terms used by Moshe except the phrases are rearranged.The Sifre remarks: “Since Moshe was close to heaven he therefore said “הַאֲזִינוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם” and since he was far from earth he said “וְתִשְׁמַע הָאָרֶץ”. Yeshaya came and said “shemu shamayim” since he was far from heaven and “vehazini ha’arerz” because he was close to earth.

 The Sifre means that since Moshe was one of the greatest prophets of all, he stood closer to Heaven than to earth and therefore had the ability to demand this of Heaven. Yeshaya, although on a higher spritual plane than we can understand, was not on the level of Moshe and therefore stood nearer to earth than Heaven.  What we have said above of the relationship between heaven and earth is the underlying reason for these verses of the Sifre. Since Moshe considered himself to be near the active, dispensing activities of the Heaven, he used this language. Yet Yeshaya felt this would be above his station and that his mission was more akin to the passive earth and so he speaks accordingly.

During this Festival-rich period of our calender it is vital that we remember this idea – that everything we have and achieve is preordained by a higher power than ourselves. Our hopes, dreams, and desires, while requiring effort on our own part, depend very much on the will of Heaven. And if we are at all able to influence this, it is by strengthening the bond between G-d and ourselves through doing and appreciating the mitzvos בין אדם למקום as well as those בין אדם לחבירו.

All of our Yomim Tovim are celebrated to commemorate an important incident that happened in our rich Jewish history. In the Torah’s discussion of each Yom Tov, it mentions the words ” Zecher Liyetzias Mitzrayim” (In commemoration to our exodus from Egypt). Each Yom Tov (and Shabbos) was established to celebrate and remember one part of the exodus. For example, on Passover we remember our redemption by eating matzo, marror (bitter herbs), four cups of wine, and the recitation of the whole story of our redemption, all the way down to the seemingly insignificant details. On Succos we remember the ananei hakavod (the clouds of glory that protected the Jews in the desert), by moving out of our homes and into succos. Why is there no special mitzvah on Shavuos? It would seem to us that this holiday in particular should have a special mitzvah. After all, it is the day we received the Torah-and our identity.
Rav Ahron Kotler answers that the simple understanding of a rememberance is something that one may forget, and therefore needs to be constantly reminded. However, the Yom Tov of Shavuos wasn’t a one-off event; the giving of the Torah is constant, as it says בכל יום יהיו בעיניך כחדשים – each day, it should be as if the Torah is new to you. There is no point in doing a mitzva to commemorate the festival, since we are actually living it!
Here’s a story to illustrate this point. (more…)

Other posts on Bamidbar:
Silence is golden
United we stand, divided we fall!

וַיְדַבֵּר ה’ אֶל מֹשֶׁה בְּמִדְבַּר סִינַי בְּאֹהֶל מוֹעֵד בְּאֶחָד לַחֹדֶשׁ הַשֵּׁנִי בַּשָּׁנָה הַשֵּׁנִית לְצֵאתָם מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם לֵאמֹר- Hashem spoke to Moshe in the Sinai Desert, in the Tent of Meeting on the first day of the second month, in the second year after tnhe exodus from the land of Egypt, saying. (1:1)

on which Rashi remarks:
וידבר. במדבר סיני באחד לחדש: וגו’ מתוך חיבתן לפניו מונה אותם כל שעה, כשיצאו ממצרים מנאן, וכשנפלו בעגל מנאן לידע מנין הנותרים. כשבא להשרות שכינתו עליהן מנאן. באחד בניסן הוקם המשכן, ובאחד באייר מנאם – The Lord spoke… in the Sinai Desert… on the first of the month: Because they were dear to Him, He counted them often. When they left Egypt, He counted them (Exod. 12:37); when [many] fell because [of the sin] of the golden calf, He counted them to know the number of the survivors (Exod. 32:28); when He came to cause His Divine Presence to rest among them, He counted them. On the first of Nissan, the Mishkan was erected, and on the first of Iyar, He counted them.
(more…)

וְהִקְרַבְתֶּם מִנְחָה חֲדָשָׁה לַה - ‘you shall bring a new mincha offering to Hashem’ (23:16)

Why does the Torah never refer explicitly to Shavuos or Rosh Hashana for their main themes, Shavuos being ‘matan Torah- the recieving of the Torah’ and Rosh Hashana being ‘משפט- the day of judgement’?

The Kli Yakar (biography here) explains that the answer for both is the same; learning Torah brings every day with it a new experience, a new understanding or a deeper insight. A person cannot learn the Torah as a monotonous study with no freshness or renewal. It is incumbent upon each of us to feel each day as though today we received the Torah from Mt.Sinai. Hashem did not want to limit the day we receive the Torah to one specific day a year, as each and every day we are able to receive the Torah from Sinai. Therefore the Torah limits the description of ‘Shavuos’ to a day where ‘you shall bring a new mincha offering to Hashem’.
(more…)

The pasuk says regarding Yom Kippur:
שַׁבַּת שַׁבָּתוֹן הוּא לָכֶם וְעִנִּיתֶם אֶת נַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶם בְּתִשְׁעָה לַחֹדֶשׁ בָּעֶרֶב מֵעֶרֶב עַד עֶרֶב תִּשְׁבְּתוּ שַׁבַּתְּכֶם -      It is a complete day of rest for you, and you shall afflict yourselves. On the ninth of the month in the evening, from evening to evening, you shall observe your rest day (23:32).
The Gemara in Pesachim 68b wonders since when do we fast on the 9th; we only fast on the 10th? The Gemara answers that it’s a mitzva to eat on the 9th. The Torah views someone who eats on the 9th as if he fasted on the ninth and the tenth.
There is a famous question asked by many: what is the Gemara’s diyuk (problem and solution)? We have this style of date in the Torah previously (i.e.בָּרִאשֹׁן בְּאַרְבָּעָה עָשָׂר יוֹם לַחֹדֶשׁ בָּעֶרֶב תֹּאכְלוּ מַצֹּת עַד יוֹם הָאֶחָד וְעֶשְׂרִים לַחֹדֶשׁ בָּעָרֶב – In the first [month], on the fourteenth day of the month in the evening, you shall eat matzos, until the twenty first day of the month in the evening. (Exodus 12:18) ), and the Gemara did not see fit to question why it says that we should eat matzos on the 14th if we really eat them from the 15th. So why only by Yom Kippur?

Rabbi Shlomo Gantzfried (author of the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch, biography here) answers with another famous question: how could the Patriarchs keep the whole Torah if they were still technically non-Jews, and there is a halacha that a non-Jew may not keep Shabbos?

One of the more accepted answers is by R’ Pinchas Halevi Horowitz (biography here) in Kiddushin 37b. He explains that there are two types of time spans: the Jewish calendar, where the night precedes the day, and the secular calendar, where the day precedes the night. The issur for a non-Jew to keep Shabbos, as explained in Sanhedrin 56b, is keeping Shabbos for a full 24 hours (not even necessarily on Saturday; it may even be a Monday). However, the pasuk in which this issur is mentioned is from Genesis 8:22 וְיוֹם וָלַיְלָה לֹא יִשְׁבֹּתוּ - “day and night shall not recede”. We see that their calendar starts from the morning. Therefore, the Patriarchs kept Shabbos as we Jews keep it-Friday night and Saturday day. However, on Motzaei Shabbos, they did a melocho, when it is still considered Shabbos for a non-Jew, as his Shabbos would only start in the morning. Thus, they never fully kept a Shabbos of a non-Jew.
With this wonderful concept, R’ Gantzfried explains how we can understand why the Gemara is specifically bothered with Yom Kippur and not with Pesach.  Pesach was mentioned before Matan Torah (the pesukim about Pesach are whilst the Jews were still in Egypt); therefore, 14th at night means the night that actually comes after the day. However, when the Torah commands us about Yom Kippur, we are already in the Jewish calendar mode, thus 9th at night really means a full 24 hours before Yom Kippur.

Therefore, the question from the Gemara is entirely legitimate!

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם מוֹעֲדֵי ה’ אֲשֶׁר תִּקְרְאוּ אֹתָם מִקְרָאֵי קֹדֶשׁ אֵלֶּה הֵם מוֹעֲדָי – Speak to the Children of Israel and tell them these are the Festivals that they shall keep holy (23:2)

שֵׁשֶׁת יָמִים תֵּעָשֶׂה מְלָאכָה וּבַיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי שַׁבַּת שַׁבָּתוֹן מִקְרָא קֹדֶשׁ כָּל מְלָאכָה לֹא תַעֲשׂוּ שַׁבָּת הִוא ה’ בְּכֹל מוֹשְׁבֹתֵיכֶם - [For] six days, work may be performed, but on the seventh day, it is a complete rest day, a holy occasion; you shall not perform any work. It is a Sabbath to the Lord in all your dwelling places. (23:3)

Rashi wonders why Shabbos is inserted into the middle of the parsha of the Festivals (moadim).

The Vilna Gaon comes up with a fascinating explanation that explains the pasuk in a different vein. On all the Festivals certain types of melachos are permitted (‘ochel nefesh‘), whereas on Shabbos all melachos are forbidden. However on one yom tov no melacha is permitted – Yom Kippur  - which is also known as שַׁבַּת שַׁבָּתוֹן – the same terminology that the Torah uses for a regular Shabbos. Thus the Vilna Gaon explains the pasuk like this;

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם מוֹעֲדֵי ה’ אֲשֶׁר תִּקְרְאוּ אֹתָם מִקְרָאֵי קֹדֶשׁ אֵלֶּה הֵם מוֹעֲדָי – Speak to the Children of Israel and tell them these are the Festivals that they shall keep holy (23:2)

שֵׁשֶׁת יָמִים תֵּעָשֶׂה מְלָאכָה וּבַיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי שַׁבַּת שַׁבָּתוֹן מִקְרָא קֹדֶשׁ כָּל מְלָאכָה לֹא תַעֲשׂוּ -  six days “of these” a melacha is permitted ( “these” are first and last days of Pesach(2), one day Shavuos (3), one day Rosh Hashana (4), one day Succos (5), one day Shmini Atzeres (6) [these are the days that are Yom Tov 'mideoraisa' which are still observed today in Israel]) however the seventh is the holy of holiest – no melacha is permitted (yom kippur [not even ochel nefesh])!

Geshmack :)

If we take a look at the Musaf prayer of the 3 festivals we see a difference in the Korbonos (sacrifices). At both Pesach & Succos the concept of offering the sacrifice on the Mizbeach is introduced before the mention of Mikra Kodesh- a Holy Convocation, whereby the day itself becomes holy. Regarding Pesach offering the sacrifice is mentioned in Bamidbar 28:18, and Mikra Kodesh is mentioned in the next Posuk 28:19, and at Succos Mikra Kodesh is mentioned in Posuk 29:12 and the offering is in 29:13. When it comes to Shavuos it mentions the offering first in 28:13 and later in the same pasuk Mikra Kodesh. Why does the order change by Shavuos?

This is also reflected in this week’s sidra too. Pesach:

בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן מִקְרָא קֹדֶשׁ יִהְיֶה לָכֶם - On the first day, there shall be a holy occasion for you… (23:7)

וְהִקְרַבְתֶּם אִשֶּׁה לַה - And you shall bring a fire offering to the Lord… (23:8)

Succos:

בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן מִקְרָא קֹדֶשׁ כָּל מְלֶאכֶת עֲבֹדָה לֹא תַעֲשׂוּ - On the first day, it is a holy occasion; you shall not perform any work of labor. (23:35)

‘שִׁבְעַת יָמִים תַּקְרִיבוּ אִשֶּׁה לַה – [For] a seven day period, you shall bring a fire offering to the Lord. (23:36)

Succos and Pesach have the day called “a holy occasion” before the offering is mentioned. But by Shavuos:

עַד מִמָּחֳרַת הַשַּׁבָּת הַשְּׁבִיעִת תִּסְפְּרוּ חֲמִשִּׁים יוֹם וְהִקְרַבְתֶּם מִנְחָה חֲדָשָׁה לַה- You shall count until the day after the seventh week, [namely,] the fiftieth day, [on which] you shall bring a new meal offering to the Lord. (23:16)

וּקְרָאתֶם בְּעֶצֶם הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה מִקְרָא קֹדֶשׁ יִהְיֶה לָכֶם – And you shall designate on this very day a holy occasion it shall be for you (23:21)

This (Vayikra) in consistent with the order given in Bamidbar, but why the marked difference by Shavuos to other Yomim Tovim?

There is a big difference between the festivals of Pesach and Succos in contrast to Shavuos. By the Festivals, there is a concept called מקדש ישראל והזמנים – whereby Hashem tell us that we have power over the times of the festivals. This is not a concept found by Shabbos, which was set in stone from Creation, whereby every 7th day is holy. Festivals are based on when Rosh Chodesh, which is entirely flexible, based on when the Sanhedrin decided to start the new month (more info here).

Pesach and Succos are based on Rosh Chodesh – the 15th day of the Rosh Chodesh proclaimed by the Sanhedrin is called mikra kodesh – because we have said when Rosh Chodesh is, the 15th day automatically becomes set aside. It follows that to honour this day we bring an offering. The offering follows the holiness of the day.

However, by Shavuos, 23:16 says that the moment you finish counting you bring an offering. Since there is an obligation to bring an offering, the day becomes holy as a result. But it is not based on Rosh Chodesh Sivan at all, rather it is based on the 49 days of counting.

This explains the order of the psukim perfectly. By Pesach and Succos, (the primary) mikra kodesh is based on Rosh Chodesh, and the offering is the follow up. But by Shavuos, the offering is the primary feature which is based on counting the Omer, and mikra kodesh is the follow up.

There is a Gemara in Shabbos about Kabbalas HaTorah that Shavuos can occur on either 4th,5th,6th of Sivan. How can this occur at any juncture, and not be specified in the Torah (ie 15th of the month). As we have explained, Shavuos is based entirely on the counting and not on a calendar day at all.

The Ramban writes that Shavuos is to Pesach as Shemini Atzeres is to Succos, and the 49 days of sefira in the middle are like it’s chol hamoed. The commentators wonder what this means, but now that we know that Shavuos is not made holy by the day itself, but by the counting of the days from Pesach, we understand the meaning of this Ramban.

The Ibn Ezra says that the word “Chamishim” is like the Yom HaShmini. The commentators have difficulty understanding the meaning of this Ibn Ezra and try to explain it according to Kabbalah. According to what we said it’s exceedingly simple; just like Shemini Atzeres is an automatic follow up from when the first day of Succos is, so is Shavuos solely based on the passage of time from when we start counting the Omer.

The Maharal writes that the halachos of Korban Pesach all reflect a unity – bones have to be kept whole, – eaten in one group – in one place – at one time – roasted to keep it in one piece etc. All these are meant to reflect that  ה’ אחד - that G-d is one, and His unity is everywhere.

However, this would seem to be at odds with another Maharal, that all Korbanos are meant to reflect the person bringing it. If the Korban Pesach is reflecting Hashem’s unity, how is it reflecting us, the people bringing it?

R’ Yehoshua Hartman explains that as a nation, we reflect the אחדות of Hashem. We have nothing but Hashem, and nothing else on what to fall back. This is not found anywhere else. If we compare to Israel to Egypt, if in Egypt it doesnt rain for years, it’s not a problem, the Nile sustains everything anyway. If in Israel it doesn’t rain for one year, there are serious problems, and people start worrying(and when people start worrying, they start praying). We do not have anywhere else to go, but to Hashem.

When the Jews said נעשה ונשמע – we will do and we will listen – what they were effectively saying is that they did not enter the equation. When Hashem asks something of us, that is all that matters, and this explains why so many Jews in history were willing to be מוסר נפש – self-sacrifice – rather than commit a sin and cause a desecration of Hashem’s name. The rationale behind this is that Hashem doesn’t want you to to do something, and if you do it, it’s the same as dying, as it is antithetical to what G-d wants.

So we can see that really, there is no contradiction between the two Maharals. We say in Aleinu that אין עוד – which means there is no other reality other than what G-d wants. No-one symbolises this more than the Jews.

From a speech by R’ Shlomo Freshwater

In the Haggada, the ben haRasha asks questions, and the father rebukes him, and says that the father should הקהה את שניו – knock out his teeth – and say to him אלו היה שם לא היה נגאל – if he had been in Egypt at the time, he would not have been redeemed.

What’s do all these things have to do with each other? His teeth, Egypt, redemption – what’s really going on here?
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In the enslavement in Egypt, we are told how:

וַיְמָרְרוּ אֶת חַיֵּיהֶם” – and they embittered their lives… (Shemos 1:14)

Hashem told Avraham that his children would be enslaved in a land not their own for 400 years. Yet we find that they left after just 210 years of actual enslavement. Where are the missing 190 years?

There is an answer suggested that Egypt treated the Jews much worse than they should have, so as we say in ברוך המקום during Seder night:

ש”הקבה חשב את הקץ – Hashem reckoned the end. What “end” is this talking about? Hashem hastened the גאולה and reckoned off קץ - 190 (from 400)- leaving us with 210.

The Vilna Gaon points out how this is very subtly hinted to by the notes on וַיְמָרְרוּ אֶת חַיֵּיהֶם are קדמא ואזלא, which means “they got up and went”. Additionally, the numerical value of this is 190! They were over-embittered to a value of 190, so they got up an went!

R’ Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld points out that the redemption from Egypt was only completed 7 days after it began, when the Red Sea parted and when Paroh and his army were destroyed, so where is this reflected in events?

He answers the 400 years were counted from Yitzchak’s birth. The extra week is found at his circumcision. Yitzchak was only circumcised 7 days after his birth – so only became Jewish then, and only 400 years from then were the Jews genuinely free.

Looking at the 15 steps of the Seder, ורחץ- “and we wash our hands” – is out of step with the rest. It is seemingly linked to the previous step of Kadesh. But this results in a further problem – the order is wrong! Shouldn’t we cleanse ourselves of the negative, symbolised by washing our hands, before sanctifying ourselves with positive, through kiddush?

We can ask the same question about Matza and Maror, shouldn’t we get the negative (slavery) out of the way before commemorating the positive?

R’ Moshe Feinstein answers that sometimes we are in so deep that we can’t cleanse ourselves of the negativity. We have to jumpstart the process of growth by diving in and doing positive acts despite the fact we still have negative baggage. Then we build up the spiritual strength to be able to cleanse ourselves of and be rid of that baggage – which is exactly what happened in Egypt.

There is a Chassidic analogy of a man with dirty boots in a muddy field. He must walk to the end of the field before he can clean his boots.

This is an exceptionally deep משל, but on a basic level, what it means is that when we have a problem that we can’t avoid (dirty boots), we must change the situation we are in (leaving the field). Once we have changed and grown, when we find ourselves with “muddy boots” we will no longer be in the “muddy field”. We can even take this analogy further – people can look around at the world (muddy field) and wonder how they can have faith when there is so much evil (mud) in the world. The answer is that the muddy field isn’t the problem – your boots are!

The reason we start the Seder in this way is to show us that we just need to take the initiative – Kaddish – and then ורחץ – we will be cleansed!

ראש חודש ניסן

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