Archive for the ‘Rabbeinu Bachaye’ Category

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.

(זאת התורה לעולה למנחה לחטאת ולאשם וגו’     (צו ז:לז

“This is the law of the burnt-offering, the meal-offering, the sin-offering, and the guilt-offering;” (Parshas Tzav 7:37)

The Gemara (Menachos 110a) extrapolates from this pasuk that one who toils in the parsha of the Korban Olah is considered as if he has brought a Korban Olah. One who toils in the parsha of the Korban Chatas considered as if he has brought a Korban Chatas, etc.

Rabbeinu Bachayei writes: “The idea [behind this Gemara] is that a person should contemplate and recognize the explanation of the Parsha [which he is learning] and to what it alludes. As a consequence of this, he will fathom and understand wonders from the Torah of Korbanos which will result in increased efforts in performing Torah and Mitzvos, and atonement for his sin as if he brought korbanos. For one cannot say that the intent [of this Gemara] is that a person should simply read the words of the Parsha without understanding them.

Similar to this, Chazal say [Gemara Brachos 4a]: ‘Anyone who says Tehila L’David [Ashrei] every day is promised to be a Ben Olam Habah.’ The intent being that by contemplating and recognizing what the pasukim teach and to what they allude, one will recognize the wonders of Hakadosh Baruch Hu and strengthen his heart with emunah in Hashem and His service, with which he will merit Olam Habah.”

Our great leader and sage, Rabbeinu Bachayei, student of the holy Rashba, has set down for us a significantly important cornerstone in our faith. The dissemination of this point is a mitzva. The Jewish religion is not one of superstitions. Rather, the objective is fairly simple: by doing what Hashem wants of us, like keeping the Torah and doing Mitzvos, we find favor in Hashem’s eyes and merit Olam Habah. And if not, chas v’shalom…

In Judaism there are no tricks or shortcuts or anything of that sort. On the contrary, practicing “segulas” makes Judiasm appear primitive and childish. The only reason why shaking a palm branch on Succos does not appear as such is because Hashem told us to do it. Had He not, but had there been some “tradition” that doing so would make the “shaker” wealthy or bring rain, this would not prevent him (not to mention the religion) from looking very foolish. Even when Chazal make statements that imply a guaranteed positive result to one who does or says a certain thing, Rabbeinu Bachayei is explaining to us that Chazal’s intention was in recognizing and working on the meaning behind the act or the saying. Avodas Hashem is just that: serving Hashem; it involves a cognizant (thinking and knowing) relationship, not just habitual acts.

Although there are certain things which can help our avoda (like looking into a siddur when davening to improve concentration), they are not “segulas” in the classic sense, but rather experience-tested methods which are basically guaranteed. A wilder example would be what Rabbi Akiva Eiger writes in his glosses to Shulchan Aruch (Yorah Deah 336:1): “The Maharil said, ‘We are forbidden to attempt any of the medical advice that is mentioned in the Talmud since we are unable to fully understand them. They will not be effective, resulting in criticism and mockery of the words of our Sages. This is not including the advice mentioned in the Gemara Shabbos (67a), the one who has a bone stuck in his throat shall bring from the very same type, that is to say the same type of bone, and place it on his forehead and say, ‘Chad chad nachis bula bula nachis chad chad.’ This incantation is guaranteed, therefore only this one are we allowed to continue to practice, and not a single one more.’” This tool is not simply “hocus pocus,” but rather an example of the medical knowledge of Chazal which even we are not inadequate enough to botch.

The bottom line is – we need to drum it into ourselves that the only way to serve Hashem is with full awareness and cognizance (see Isaiah 29:13-14 regarding “lip-service” in Avodas Hashem). If we do our part and try, Hashem will help us continue in the right path (see Menachos 29b בא לטהר מסייעין אותו). May we merit serving Hashem b’emes.

There are interesting explanations of how the Plague of Darkness actually took place. On one hand, R’ Avraham Iben Ezra learns that it was a fog so tremendously thick that it extinguished any fire lit within it. He writes that he himself saw experienced such a phenomenon many times near the ocean. Yet the Torah Temima understands that the plague meant that the Egyptians were stricken with severe cataracts. The Vilna Goan explains that darkness is not like we commonly tend to think of as simply the absence of light, but rather a creation in its own right. Hashem however set up the light/dark relationship in such a way that light always wins in a “fight” with darkness. By this makkah, though, that relationship was reversed.

Rabbeinu Bachaiyei (Bo 10:21) seems to learn a pshat somewhere in the middle. He quotes the Medrash Shemos Rabba (14:1-3) detailing and expounding upon this plague. He mentions the tangibility of the darkness; this darkness was not just the absence of light. Rather, it was an existence in itself that had substance. So thick was it, that during the last three days of the six day duration of this plague, no Egyptian could move a muscle and was frozen in place. (Ralbag writes that Hashem sealed the Egyptians’ noses and mouths. They could not breathe for three days. That they did not die was a miracle. He did this because had the Egyptians breathed in this new, thick dark air, they surely would have died. Being kept alive without breathing for this time was a source of tremendous suffering for them.) Klal Yisrael, however, had plenty of light, not only in Goshen but even when they entered the Egyptian houses to search for valuables.n

Rabbeinu Bachaiyei explains the nature of this particular darkness. In order for the eye to see light, the light must travel from its source through the air into the eye. This is similar to hearing; the sound waves travel from the source to one’s ear. In other words, air is the medium through which light travels. During the first three days of the plague of darkness, Hashem “sealed” the pathways of the air from allowing passage of light. In the absence of the ability for light to get through the air automatically turns dark. For the last three days, Hashem thickened this dark air so much so that the weight of it did not allow them to move. This was not the case for Klal Yisrael; Hashem did not close the passageways of air for them. They were able to see freely and could go where they pleased.

In understanding this Rabbeinu Bachaiyei, it would seem that one would need to clarify his words as follows. We cannot say that all the air particles in any specific Egyptians house were sealed off to light. For if so, how could the Jew entering to search for valuables be able to see? On the other hand, to say that the air particles were open to light would mean that the Egyptians would be able to see! One must say that the plague of darkness how we tend to envision it. It wasn’t that the land of Egypt was completely dark. Rather, the air particles immediately and in closest proximity to the individual Egyptian were the ones that were sealed off from light (for the first three days, after which this very air became heavy enough to hinder any movement). It was as if every Egyptian had a heavy, dark shell around his body. But during the day, the land of Egypt itself was as bright as any other country.

One could comment, however, that according to this the Plague of Darkness effected the Jews as well. Being that the air directly surrounding the Egyptians did not allow light to pass through, all that a Jew saw in looking at an Egyptian was a thick human-shaped black cloud. The Jew would not have been able to see through due to the sealed air. If, for example, the Jew would want to know the identity of the Egyptian whose house he had entered by looking at him, he would not be able to (and those Jews who were able to tell specific Egyptians about the whereabouts of their valuables would have had to have know their identities by other means)! Possibly one could suggest that the air around the Egyptian worked like one-way glass; one side can see through while the other side can’t. The Jews could see the Egyptians while the Egyptians could not see out. The problem with this might be that if the light could not get in to the Egyptians, then it would not be reflecting back towards the Jews to enable them to see the Egyptians.

The easiest pshat in Rabbeinu Bachayei might therefore be that the air was open for the Jews and closed for the Egyptians. Though this may not make sense in our minds (as we asked above), we can safely throw up our hands and say, “Who is so wise to understand Hashem’s ways!” So writes the Alshich (10:21-23). The Ramban at the end of Parsha Bo explains that all the miracles preformed in Egypt were a testimonial for generations of there being really no such thing as nature, rather everything is Hashem’s doing. The miracles there were a wakeup call to this. After writing this, I found in the Medrash Tehilim (aka Sochar Tov 22:2) exactly this idea. “In the way the world works, can a man light a fire and say, ‘Ploni who is my friend shall benefit from this light, but Ploni who is my enemy will not’?! Rather everyone benefits together. Yet Hashem is not this way. He can shine light to one and place darkness on another.”

Other posts on Bamidbar:
What about me?
Silence is golden

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 the exodus from the land of Egypt, saying. (1:1)

באחד בניסן הוקם המשכן, ובאחד באייר מנאם- Rashi explains, 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.

A question arises. Why weren’t they counted already by the first of Nissan? Rashi mentions it had something to do with the shechina coming down to Bnei Yisroel and that had already occurred on the first of Nissan.

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִקְחוּ לִי תְּרוּמָה מֵאֵת כָּל אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר יִדְּבֶנּוּ לִבּוֹ תִּקְחוּ אֶת תְּרוּמָתִי- Speak to Bnei Yisroel, and have them take for Me an offering; from every person whose heart inspires him to generosity, you shall take My offering. (Exodus 25:2)

אמרו רבותינו שלש תרומות אמורות כאן, אחת תרומת בקע לגלגלת, שנעשו מהם הא-דנים ואחת תרומת המשכן נדבת כל אחד ואחד- Rashi mentions the three times Bnei Yisroel were counted during their first year after leaving Egypt. One of them is when each member of klal Yisroel gave half a shekel for the sockets of the mishkan. This was, of course, before the first of Nissan, before the mishkan was set up.

(more…)

When the brothers apologise to Yosef, he rebutted this by saying אַל תִּירָאוּ כִּי הֲתַחַת אלֹהִים אָנִי – “Don’t be afraid, for am I instead of God?” (50:19). It is unclear what exactly he means, but certainly he is not annoyed.

The Baal Haturim suggests that this is is poetic justice as this is precisely what his mother had been told when she begged for children from their father, at which point he said “הֲתַחַת אֱ־לֹהִים אָנֹכִי אֲשֶׁר מָנַע מִמֵּךְ פְּרִי בָטֶן - “Am I instead of God, Who has withheld from you the fruit of the womb?” (30:2)

The Maharil Diskin wonders why a simple yes/no answer isn’t enough, and we can (and have) explained that he did not actually forgive them, but did not say this. We can look deeper into his words: In Parshas Matos (30:7-9) the pasuk describes a woman who makes a vow, but then her husband annuls it. In an event where she did not know he had annulled it, and she thinks she is deliberately breaking it, the pasuk says “והֹ יִסְלַח לָהּ – “…and the Lord will forgive her.” This is astounding – she has technically done absolutely nothing wrong – her vow had been annulled at the time of her actions, and yet there is a certain something that requires forgiveness! And the same thing was true here:

The brothers thought they had committed a horrendously evil act to their brother, and even though circumstantially it turned out for the best in the end, and the family were reunited – just as in the case of a woman who circumstantially did nothing wrong – there was still a certain something that required forgiveness. The Maharil Diskin suggests an alternate explanation to that which the Baal Haturim suggested, that this is exactly what Yosef was saying here.  Due to the turn of events they had done nothing wrong, but he was not in the place of Hashem, because as we said by the woman, they needed G-d’s forgiveness.

In layman’s terms, the ends do not justify the means. Yosef was telling his brothers that they were only circumstantially sorry.

Rabbeinu Bachaye  shares a frightening thought that is brilliant. He takes the concept of Yosef not forgiving his brothers a step further, and suggests that this resulted in the Asara Harugei Malchus, one of the greatest tragedies in Jewish history, and one died in lieu of each of the group who’d sold Yosef. Yaakov was not told, as an oath was made as a group of 10 (a minyan) to not tell him, and such an oath cannot be annulled.

But why were there 10 martyrs then, as there weren’t 10 men present at the sale? Binyamin was not there, Reuven had gone home, and we can’t include Yosef as part of such a minyan? There is a concept that a minyan can take place with 9 as Hashem joins in – Hashem was the 10th member of this group.

R’ Shamshon Ostropolier points out that we can expand the pasuk in Bechukosai - וְכָל מַעְשַׂר בָּקָר וָצֹאן כֹּל אֲשֶׁר יַעֲבֹר תַּחַת הַשָּׁבֶט הָעֲשִׂירִי יִהְיֶה קֹּדֶשׁ לַהֹ – Any tithe of cattle or flock of all that pass under the rod, the tenth shall be holy to the Lord” (27:32)- and there is a deeper meaning to this pasuk, in reference to Rabbi Akiva - וכי למא מת עקיבא, שהוא רואה בקר וצאן הכֹּל אֲשֶׁר יַעֲבֹר תַּחַת הַשָּׁבֶט הָעֲשִׂירִי יִהְיֶה קֹּדֶשׁ לַהֹ – Why did Akiva die? He was just a shepherd! When he passed under the staff (judgement?) he was the tenth, holy for G-d.

There is another allusion to this in Parshas Vayigash (45:15), that “וַיֵּבְךְּ עֲלֵיהֶם – and he cried on them” – we can break up עֲלֵיהֶם and read it על י ה”םfor the ten Harugei Malchus.

Scary. So not that any of us are like Yosef and his brothers, but it’s clear that we should be more forgiving to people for what they may do to us.

ראש חודש ניסן

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