The Dvar Torah Project

Hazak Hazak v'Nitkhazeik

2008-03-05T21:48:00.001-08:00

Enjoy this week's offering, fresh from our dear friend Yoni. A fan favorite from Parshat Vayekhi, he returns to Parshat Pekudei: we like to end each Sefer with a bang.

Pekudei - Tearing up a Detailed Parsha

2008-03-05T18:51:00.000-08:00

Parshat Pekudei describes the building of the Mishkan and, as such, the crafting of the priestly clothing. One piece of rectorial rainment is the מְעִיל, or robe. The initial command to create the מְעִיל adds an ambiguous detail:

שָׂפָה יִהְיֶה לְפִיו סָבִיב . . . לֹא יִקָּרֵעַ

Its head-opening shall have a border all around . . . it may not be torn. (28:32)

That is Artscroll's translation. But compare to JPS: ". . . so that it does not tear." Indeed, the thrust of the last two words is unclear: make a border so that it does not tear, or make a border - and don't you dare tear! In other words, do we have a reason or a command? The implication is central: if one tore the מְעִיל, would they be punished for violating a negative command?

Apart from occupying the great minds of Artscroll and JPS, this very question appears in the Gemara.

אמר רחבא אמר רב יהודה המקרע בגדי כהונה לוקה שנאמר לא יקרע מתקיף לה רב אחא בר יעקב ודילמא הכי קאמר רחמנא נעביד ליה שפה כי היכי דלא ניקרע מי כתיב שלא יקרע

Rachva said in the name of Rav Yehuda: One who tears the Bigdei Kahuna receives lashes- as it is written, "it shall not be torn." Rav Acha bar Yaakov questioned this: but maybe the Merciful One only meant to make a border so that it doesn’t tear! [The gemara replies:] Does it say שלא יקרע "so that it doesn't tear"!? (Yoma 72a)

Regarding our pasuk and others with similar structure, Rav Acha Bar Yaakov consistently takes the view that they should be read as giving reasons and not new commandments. However, the Talmud attacks Rav Acha on technical grammatical grounds. The pasuk fails to include a "ש", the explicit grammatical link for "so that." Rather, the verse continues without a link - suggesting a brand new commandment.

From first glance, the Gemara debates how to properly read the verse, much like Artscroll and JPS some milennia later. This is the interpretation of the debate suggested by Rav Avraham ben HaRambam, in his commentary on Sefer Shemot: (Hey, how's your Judeo-Arabic?)

חתי יתבת טוקה עלי טול אלזמאן לא יסהל תקטיעה ואלנקל בין פיה מצאף אלי דלך אנה נהי ען תקטיעה

So that his collar remains permanent and is not ruined by tearing; however, Tradition interprets it an additional way, as a command against tearing it.

Yet there is a problem with this straightforward understanding of two distinct intepretations. It is based on the premise that reasons for prohibitions shouldn't actually counted as prohibitions. Those who claim that the pasuk only presents a reason ("make a border so that it does not tear") should believe that no punishment is in order for tearing. But if the explicit rationale for making the border is to insure that the robe does not tear- doesn’t this mean that the Torah doesn’t want the מְעִיל torn, and doesn’t that mean that one should not tear it? Isn't violation of a reason still a violation of God's will?!

The only way I can think of resolving the problem is by distinguishing between a formal letter-of-the-law legal system and an informal spirit-of-the-law subtext. One could agree that violating a reason runs counter to the spirit of Torah law, yet maintain that such a deed can not be punished.

Of course, the opposite argument can be made, that breaches in the explicit spirit of the law likewise deserve punishment, that the boundary between formal and informal Law is far more transparent than usually believed. When Rav Acha claims that tearing the מְעִיל should not incur lashes, for it is only a reason, the Gemara could retort that informal reasons are still treated as any other mitzvah. It is a radical and thought-provoking idea, but one which finds expression in the words of the Ramban (Nachmanides.) Responding to the Rambam's (Maimonides') position that reasons are not to be treated as commandments, the Ramban opines:

ואני אומר בזה העיקר לכאורה כוותיה משמע, וכי מעיינת ביה שפיר לאו הכי הוא

And I say about this principle- at first it sounds like he is correct, but when you look into it more closely, it is not so. (Notes on Sefer HaMitzvot, Shoresh 5)

Nachmanides maintains that even reasons, representatives of the spirit of the law, can be on par with explicit commands. In fact, they are even counted towards the tally of 613 mitzvot!
These words are of special significance in this season of Parshiyot. While Pekudei and its neighbors overflow with the technical, formal details of the Mishkan, it is integral to bear in mind the spirit and reason for the Mishkan's existence. The symbolism behind the Bigdei Kahuna, the message communicated by each Korban, and the significance of Mishkan architecture may not be a mere formality - but a Mitzvah in and of itself.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table (and this one needs it!)

--39:23 describes the priestly מְעִיל, or robe, but its a bit unclear: make a border around the head-opening so that it does not tear, or make a border and do not tear! Is "do not tear" a reason or new command?
--The Gemara debates the point. If it is a new command, tearing the מְעִיל incurs lashes. If it is only a reason, no worries.
--The Ramban holds differently: even if the pasuk merely reads "make a border so that it does not tear", there is a full-fledged mitzvah to avoid tearing, one which can incur punishment.
--The Ramban seems to believe that informal, "spirit of the law" parts of the Torah are on equal footing with explicit mitzvot.
--This emphasis on the "spirit of the law" and the rationale behind mitzvot is integral to appreciating the message and meaning of the Mishkan and its service.

Vayakel- Of Women and Gold

2008-02-27T21:05:00.000-08:00

In describing Bnei Yisrael's donations to the Mishkan, the Torah includes a faintly familiar pasuk:

וַיָּבֹאוּ הָאֲנָשִׁים, עַל-הַנָּשִׁים; כֹּל נְדִיב לֵב, הֵבִיאוּ חָח וָנֶזֶם וְטַבַּעַת וְכוּמָז כָּל-כְּלִי זָהָב
And the men went ___ the women, all who were willing brought jewerly, rings, signets and girdles, all of gold (35:22)

It is unclear what the word עַל means in this context and, as such, the Meforshim provide a variety of explanations. Some fill in the blank with "following," others as "together with," but either way, the verse is reminscent of a similar scene but a few perekim before, in the build-up to the Egel haZahav (Golden Calf).

וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם, אַהֲרֹן, פָּרְקוּ נִזְמֵי הַזָּהָב, אֲשֶׁר בְּאָזְנֵי נְשֵׁיכֶם בְּנֵיכֶם וּבְנֹתֵיכֶם; וְהָבִיאוּ, אֵלָי.

And Aharon said to them, break off the golden rings from the ears of your wives, sons, and daugters, and bring them to me (32:2)

Apart from the parallel themes of gold, donation, and men and women, both verses include the relatively rare term נֶזֶם, or ring. Indeed, the word is highly symbolic, and drapes another layer of meaning to our original pasuk.

נֶזֶם always seems to pop up in times of idol worship. Take for example, Bereishit 35:4, when Yaakov orders his family to hand over any idolatrous possessions:

וַיִּתְּנוּ אֶל-יַעֲקֹב, אֵת כָּל-אֱלֹהֵי הַנֵּכָר אֲשֶׁר בְּיָדָם, וְאֶת-הַנְּזָמִים, אֲשֶׁר בְּאָזְנֵיהֶם

And they gave to Yaakov all the foreign gods that were in their hands, and all the rings which were in their ears

Turning to Nakh (Prophets and Writings), we find a similar phenomenon. Gideon asks of his people gold in order to form an ephod, one which is then deified and worshipped.

וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם גִּדְעוֹן, אֶשְׁאֲלָה מִכֶּם שְׁאֵלָה, וּתְנוּ-לִי, אִישׁ נֶזֶם שְׁלָלוֹ

And Gideon said to them, I make a request: that every man give me the rings from his spoils

Once again, discussion of Avoda Zara (idolatry) is accompanied by the ubiquitous נֶזֶם. Coumbined with the request for rings by the Egel haZahav, we have before us a formidable pattern.

And yet, there is one more area in Chumash where נֶזֶם appears three times: the betrothal of Rivka. Awed by her beauty and kindness, Avraham's associate decides he has found the woman for Yitzkhak As such, he places on her, "a golden ring of half-shekel weight." (24:22) The jewerly is symbol for her betrothal, and its central role is emphasized several times over: Lavan springs into action, "when he saw the ring and the jewerly" (24:30) on his sister. When retelling the narrative, the associate remarks how he "placed the ring upon her nose, the bracelets on her hand, and blessed God for leading me in the right path to take a daughter . . . for my master's son." (22:48) The two are intertwined: as should be no surprise for us, the exchange of a ring symbolizes a new connection between husband and wife.

Which takes us back to our original pasuk and its description of Mishkan donations. One way to fill in the blank is to have the men returning to their wives, asking yet again for their rings. (See Seforno and Lekakh Tov.) If that is indeed the case, the "healing parallel" becomes two-fold. For one, the classic material of Avodah Zara - from Yaakov, through the Egel, to Gideon - is now used positively, to construct the Mishkan. Secondly, recall the wives' reaction to the initial request for gold. When Aharon instructs the men to sieze jewerly for the Egel, a simple reading of the subsequent verse suggests that the women refused [1]:

וַיִּתְפָּרְקוּ, כָּל-הָעָם, אֶת-נִזְמֵי הַזָּהָב, אֲשֶׁר בְּאָזְנֵיהֶם

So all the men broke off the gold rings that were in their [own!] ears (32:3)

In that moment of sin, the men of the nation were distant from both God and their spouses. Their turn to idolatry was a turn away from their women. In their moment of repentance, they return once more requesting rings - that symbol of re-connection between man and wife- and this time, the request is granted.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

-The Torah's description of men and women donating to the Mishkan parallels the scene of men and women involved in donating to the Egel HaZahav.

- In contrast, there the donations are for idolatry, here for God. There the women refuse to participate, here they join in.

-Particularlly suggestive in the parallel is the occurence of נֶזֶם, or rings, in both verses.

- That piece of jewerly primarily appears in two contexts: marriage and idolatry.

- We can understand 35:22 as the men once again asking their wives for gold, and the symboilsm of the ring fits like a ring: the building-block of idolatry is redeemed as a tool for Divine worship; the tension between families dies away, and husband and wife are reconnected.

[1] Ibn Ezra and several Midrashim read differently, that the men did indeed take take their wives jewerly. Even so, that was under force, while in the context of the Mishkan, only "the willing of heart" donated their gold.

Still Hard to Read?

2008-02-22T20:16:00.000-08:00

We hope you enjoy our dual offerings on Parshat Ki Tissa. Read as Judah the Prince follows the Aharon personality post-Golden Calf, and delight in SimchaGross's take on The Rav, Eric Fromm, and Egel haZahav.

And of course, for an easier-on-the-eyes version of the Dvar Torah Project, we are proud to still introduce the Dvar Torah Project: Vanilla.

Ki Tissa- The Golden Calf and Aharon's Fall

2008-02-20T23:02:00.001-08:00

Let’s be blunt: Aharon made the Egel. It is he who Bnei Yisrael turns to after Moshe “delays”, he who advises them to gather gold rings, and he who physically fashions the Golden Calf. Aharon even concludes his role by announcing a feast for God the next day.

Nonetheless, there are discussions in Midrash and Mefarshim explaining Aharon’s positive motivations – and indeed, one can find clues to that effect in the text itself. But on the other hand, one aspect of the story eludes easy explanation, while at the same time pointing to Aharon’s guilt in the Egel story.

For however noble or ignoble his intentions, the description of events he delivers to Moshe does not correspond with the account Chumash actually presents. The Torah describes how . . .

וַיִּקַּח מִיָּדָם, וַיָּצַר אֹתוֹ בַּחֶרֶט, וַיַּעֲשֵׂהוּ עֵגֶל מַסֵּכָה

And he took [the gold] from their hands, and he fashioned it with a graving tool, and made it a molten calf (32:4)

Aharon's report perfectly parallels this pasuk, but with each phrase restated to clear himself of active involvement:

וַיִּתְּנוּ-לִי; וָאַשְׁלִכֵהוּ בָאֵשׁ, וַיֵּצֵא הָעֵגֶל הַזֶּה.

And they gave it to me, and I tossed into the fire, and out came this calf (32:24)

Chumash's narrator paints Aharon an active party: taking, fashioning with tools, making the calf. Aharon, however, prefers a thoroughly passive model: they gave, he merely tossed, out came this calf.

While it is certainly uncomfortable to point out flaws in beloved Biblical characters, Chumash offers several other signs that Aharon indeed sinned. Moshe begins and ends his conversation with Aharon with tones of blame: “What did the people do to you, that you brought upon them a great sin!” (32:21) is followed by the damning conclusion, “for Aharon let them loose for a derision among their enemies.” (32:25) Indeed, the last verse of the perek says it all: “and God struck the people, on their making the calf - which Aharon had made.” (32:35)

The question thus becomes, how did Aharon react to this? How did our Biblical hero respond to mistakes? Parshat Shmini describes a special sin offering, an “eigel ben bakar” (a calf, Vayikra 9:2), brought by Aharon during the Mishkan’s dedication. It is the only mention in Tanakh of a calf brought as Korban Hatat and it is plausible that Aharon is addressing this very point – he is recognizing and doing Teshuva for his role in Egel haZahav. Before assuming his position as Cohen Gadol, he repents and admits his previous misstep.

But one perek later, a more tragic example emerges. Aharon's two sons, Nadav and Avihu bring a foreign flame into the Mishkan, and in response . . .

וַתֵּצֵא אֵשׁ מִלִּפְנֵי יְהוָה.

And a flame went out before God and devoured them (Vayikra 10:2)

The unique phraseology is eerily similar to Aharon’s questionable conversation with Moshe:

וָאַשְׁלִכֵהוּ בָאֵשׁ, וַיֵּצֵא הָעֵגֶל הַזֶּה

And I cast it into the flames, and out came this calf (32:23)

This textual link may point to yet another moment of the healing process: Aharon creates a god from flames, his beloved creations are destroyed in Godly flame. (This is not to claim that Aharon's sons suffer the sins of their father, but that their deserved death occurs in a highly symbolic manner - one which Aharon likely did not overlook.) This tragic moment, the low point of Aharon's life, is also his most crowning act of Tshuva.

For a key aspect of Aharon's previous misdeeds was his failure to admit any guilt. He responded with excuses, expending a full three pasukim to attack Bnei Yisrael while distancing himself from his own crimes. Bearing this initial reaction in mind adds to the power and depth of Aharon's response to his sons' death:

וַיִּדֹּם אַהֲרֹן

And Aharon was silent (10:3)

Viewed through this light, Aharon's quiet is not (only) the pious acceptance of God's will, but the humble recognition of his faults, his guilts, and the arduous path that is transformation from sinner to Cohen Gadol.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

-Aharon is heavily involved in producing the Egel HaZahav. While there is room to say that his actions were justified, many textual clues point otherwise.
-His account of the story stands in conflict with the Torah's; Moshe twice condemns him; the perek concludes with the word - "the calf, which Aharon made."
-Aharon recognized his fault and sincerely sought Tshuva. The sin-offering of a calf may represent one important sacrifice he makes.
-The loss of two sons to flames may represent another. His silent, noble reaction stands as testimony to Aharon's spiritual transformation.

The Rav, Eric Fromm, and Egel haZahav: A philosophic reading

2008-02-20T00:14:00.000-08:00

Appropriately, at the apex of our history as a religion, Moshe, our greatest teacher, also rose to the zenith of the mountain top – Sinai. There we waited hopefully and expectantly. Yet, as time passed, we grew despondent. Where had our leader gone? Where was the iconoclast who fought against the doubts of Pharaoh and of his own people, who raised them from the dirges of slavery into the fullness of Freedom – where had he gone? Yet, rather then cry, rather then bemoan their fate, the people celebrate ecstatically with the creation of idols. What could possibly have motivated this polarization between extremes?

Erich Fromm, a Jewish psychoanalyst and philosopher of the early 20^th century, describes an unceasing aspect of the human condition:

“Man – of all ages and cultures – is confronted with the solution of one and the same question: the question of how to overcome separateness, how to achieve union, how to transcend one's own individual life and find at-onement.” [1]

Fromm discusses the various ways in which Man over the ages has tried to deal with this dilemma:

“One way of achieving this aim lies in all kinds of Orgiastic States . . . As long as these orgiastic states are a matter of common practice in a tribe, they do not produce anxiety or guilt. To act in this way is right, and even virtuous, because it is a way shared by all . . .”
“Also in contemporary Western Society the union with the groups is the prevalent way of overcoming separateness. It is a union in which the individual self disappears to a large extent and where the aim is to belong to the herd.”

Rav Soloveitchik echoes similar sentiments:

“Pragmatic expositions of the essence of the religious act . . . behold in religion a refuge of repose for man, who is shattered b the numerous, discordant forces of the secular world; religion offers happiness and comfort. In such a spirit William James speaks of the religion of the happy-minded” that serves him as a model of the religious attitude.” [2]

Man turns to religion to avoid the “discordant forces” and to be comforted instead.

Bnei Yisrael became reliant on Moshe not for the sake of his message, but for the comfort he provided them. His absence allowed the discordant forces to rise up from where they were concealed. Thus, the people immediately turned to any other source to fill this void.

Yet this is an egregious outlook of the religious orientation. As Rabbi Soloveitchik says:
“The religious experience, however, is beyond granting man a hedonic status or spiritual complacency. To the contrary, the religious experience is fraught with pitfalls and continual challenges. God, if man finds Him, does not relieve the God-seeker of his imperatives but imposes new ones.”

Man strives not for comfort, but for following the true course. The people who had such a utilitarian approach to religion could not be given the law, the Luchot, under such auspices, as it would be a complete misrepresentation of the Law. The Law is followed for its own sake, for the righteous way of life it provides, and not for a hedonic utilitarian purpose. Moshe now climbs to the peak of the mountain again, this time to retrieve the Law with the proper mindset.

[1] The Art of Loving, pp. 8-12
[2] Shiurei HaRav, pp. 4-5

Tetzaveh - The Search for the Torah's Most Important Pasuk

2008-02-14T06:58:00.000-08:00

In my time in yeshiva, the coming of Parshat Tetzaveh meant the re-use of a fascinating, troubling, and somewhat mysterious Midrash. The piece is referenced by the Maharal (d. 1609), who found it in the introduction to the Ein Yaakov (R. Yaakov ibn Habib d. 1516), who states that he "saw it written in the name of the Midrash, yet sought it and failed to find it anywhere."

Ben Zoma said: We found a pasuk which is all inclusive, "Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Ekhad." (Devarim 6:4)
Ben Nannas said: We found a pasuk which is all inclusive, "v'Ahavta l'Reakha k'Mokha." (Vayikra 19:18)
Ben Pazai said: We found a pasuk which is all inclusive: "And the first sheep you shall offer in the morning . . . " (Shemot 29:32?, Parshat Tetzaveh*)

The Midrash presents verses which, to some extent, aptly summarize the total content of the Torah. The first suggestion is fairly reasonable. "Shema Yisrael" places at the center of Judaism recognition of God, obedience towards Him, and understanding of His relationship with Bnei Yisrael; it is no coincidence that the verse appears so prominently in Tefilla. Ben Zoma sees all mitzvot as signs of and steps toward that recognition. He thus represents the "Avodat Hashem" (service of God) approach to Judaism: the commanded striving to understand the Commander and perform His commands.

In contrast, Ben Nannas puts forward the "Moral Code" interpretation of Judaism. Mirroring Rabbi Akiva's opinion that "love your neighbor as yourself" is the foundational principle of the Torah (Yerushalmi Nedarim 41), he reiterates the claim that the Mizvot are signs of and steps towards a more refined ethical personality.

But Ben Pazai? He quotes a positively nondescript portion of the Korban Tamid service. It is a minor verse, selected almost at random from hundreds of pasukim which recount Korbanot. So what's the deal: why this pasuk?

The classic source of the Midrash, the Maharal of Prague, offers what has become the standard interpretation:

And according to Shimon Ben Pazai, permanent consistency in Avodat Hashem, represented by the Korban brought every day in the morning and afternoon, this is the foundational principle. (Netivot Olam, Netiv Ahavat Ha'Reia 1)

This Maharal, oft-quoted in Mussar schmoozes, explains that day-in-day-out consistency is the foundational aspect of the Torah. Yet, on a personal level, I find this interpretation almost troubling. If the Tannaitic purpose is to spell out the Grand Plan of Yiddishkeit, I would expect something lofty- something like knowledge of God, attainment of the ethical ideal, etc. Choosing consistency is tantamount to not taking the Tannaim's statement seriously. For granted, consistency is an important aspect of effective Jewish living, but its almost belittling to the entire Jewish enterprise to claim that it as the all-encompassing meta-value. (As an aside, the Maharal glosses over this opinion, spending one sentence on it before continuing a length discussion of "love your neighbor as your self.")

R. Ibn Habib takes a different approach. He interprets "Shema Yisrael" as representing knowledge in matters of faith, God, and Torah. In contrast to the realm of thought, "love your neighbor" stands as symbol for good deeds, for physical actions. Bridging the conflict between intangible thought and corporeal action, Ben Pazai points to Korbanot, which are spiritual deeds leading to interaction and knowledge of the Divine, yet occur only through physical acts. The question then stands as whether the Torah was ultimately given to improve man's intellect, his actions, or some combination thereof.

Employing my reaction to the Maharal, I'd like to suggest a third interpretation. Perhaps Ben Zoma and Ben Nannas take themselves very seriously, debating with absolute sincerity two diametrically opposed views of the Torah and its purpose. Imagine the scene, with the two Tannaim slinging theological proofs and philosophic rationales back and forth in argument. Suddenly, Ben Pazai rises from his bench and silences the two Rabbis: "No, this is the most important pasuk: 'And the first sheep shall be offered in the morning and the second in the afternoon.' Now we can get on with life." Ben Pazai takes contest with the entire endeavor, with the notion of solving the unanswerable question of the Torah's all-encompassing purpose. (Or at least, the notion of boxing it into one conscise pasuk.)

Which provides a new context for the Maharal's reading. Taking Ben Pazai with a grain of ironic salt, we understand his emphasis on consistency over, say idyllic visions of a morally perfected world. Ben Pazai's "big questions" are not philosophical, but practical. What do we tell the common man? What do we tell ourselves? Whatever the Grand Vision, how do we make it a Grant Reality? Through consistent dedication to the commands of the Torah.

Which fits the Midrash's denouement:

Rabbi Ploni ("R. John Doe") stood up and said, "The Halakha is like Ben Pazai."

The very notion of "paskening" a philosophical question is rather controversial, but this anonymous rabbi's pronouncement is wonderfully well-timed. While the theological debate may rage on forever, in daily practical life, we are obligated to follow Ben Pazai.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

--A mysterious Midrash presents three opinions for the Torah's all-encompassing pasuk: Shema, v'Ahavta, and . . . a pasuk about the the Korban Tamid!
--The Maharal explains that the third opinion views consistent, day-in-and-day-out service of Hashem as the fundamental aspect of Torah Judaism.
--R. Yaakov Ibn Habib, the author of the Ein Yaakov, interprets the Korban reference as compromising between a purely intellectual and purely action-based Torah.
--Perhaps the third opinion should be read with some irony. He argues against the very notion of finding an all-encompassing pasuk.
--While it is likely not the Maharal's intent, it nonetheless compliments his interpretation. The third opinion decries the theological discussion and offers purely practical advice.

*The Midrash is largely quoted in the context of Parshat Tetzaveh, since the third opinion pasuk appears to be found in that parsha. However, every edition of the Ein Yaakov that I have seen contains the words את הכבש אחד תעשה בבקר, from Bamidbar 28:4. The pasuk that occurs in Tetzaveh is almost identical, but has האחד with an extra ה. I am still on the lookout for an Ein Yaakov with the extra ה.

Apologies and Greek Myths

2008-02-08T10:15:00.001-08:00

Our deepest apologies, but through a series of almost comedic miscommunications, we have no Dvar Torah to offer on this week's parsha. That said, here's something of wild interest, from Nazir 4b:

אמר שמעון הצדיק מימי לא אכלתי אשם נזיר טמא חוץ מאדם אחד שבא אלי מן הדרום יפה עינים וטוב רואי וקווצותיו סדורות לו תלתלים אמרתי לו בני מה ראית לשחת שער נאה זה אמר לי רועה הייתי לאבי בעירי והלכתי לשאוב מים מן המעיין ונסתכלתי בבבואה שלי ופחז יצרי עלי וביקש לטורדני מן העולם אמרתי לו ריקה מפני מה אתה מתגאה בעולם שאינו שלך שסופך להיות רמה ותולע' העבודה שאגלחך לשמי' עמדתי ונשקתיו על ראשו אמרתי לו כמותך ירבו נזירים בישראל

Shimon HaTzaddik said: In my entire life, I never ate from the guilt-offering of a defiled Nazir (i.e. I never trusted the sincerity of their Nazir vow) except for one man who came from the South. He had beautiful eyes and great looks and his locks were set into curls. I said to him, "My son! What made you destroy such beautiful hair!" (i.e. A Nazir must let his hair grow unchecked, only to have it eventually shaved off.) He said to me, "I was a shepherd for my father in my city, and I went to draw water from the spring. As looked at my reflection approaching the water, my Inclination seized hold of me and sought to destroy me. I said to myself: Empty thing! What are you so proud about, in this world which isn't yours, where you will end up as maggots and worms! I swear, I will shave off these locks!" So I kissed the man on his head and said, "There should be more Nazirs in Israel like you."

Sound familiar? It's the Narcissus story, retold. Whereas the Hellenistic version (eg. Ovid Metamorphoses III, 302ff) has Narcissus trapped by his own beauty, unable to leave the spring, our young man chooses to see the fleetingness and meaninglessness in human beauty.

While I lack the space to give a full reading of the Gemara's commentary on the Narcissus story, here are some points to consider:
1) Both Narcissus and our Man remove themselves from the world - their greatly varied mindsets and reactions seem to actually lead them to the same place.
2) The context of the story is one who BROKE his Nazirite vows! While this could happen through contact with a dead body or drinking wine, maybe the Man failed in another way. Recall, he enters the Temple with a beautiful and neat head of hair, making us wonder if a few weeks after his spiritual epiphony, he was still tempted to visit his hair stylist. Shimon HaTzaddik is praising someone who ultimately fails to live up to his own ideals.

Mishpatim- What existed before Torah law?*

2008-01-30T21:33:00.000-08:00

"If an ox, when it is walking along the street, gored a man to death . . . "
"If a man struck another man's wife, and caused her to have a miscarriage . . . "
"If a man stole . . . he shall make manifold restitution . . . "

Sound familiar? Feel like you've scanned these verses during Leining or wrestled with their expansive meanings during morning Seder?

Chances are that you're wrong. The first comes from Hammurabi's Code, the second quotes Middle Assyrian law, and the third stems from Hittite passages. In fact, significant swaths of the Torah's legal sections are strikingly similar to pagan law books of the Ancient Near East. These passages direct our attention to the legal culture contemporary to Matan Torah, to the ethics and values that the Torah saw fit to change. They remind us to ask: what existed before Halakha and what is Halakha adding to the world? If I stood at Har Sinai, which parts of Parshat Mishpatim would seem particularly surprising?

An equivalent discussion, but in the context of Sefer Bereishit, is found in Nahum M. Sarna's Understanding Genesis. By providing the popular theology prevalent before Har Sinai, Sarna draws forth the power and hiddush of "Bereishit Bara Elohim." When you realize that our creation story contains references to mythic Pagan forces (Yam, Tanin, Tohu vaVohu, etc.), place yourself in the shoes of an ancient Israelite people who were familiar with that culture. Suddenly, you learn that these mighty "forces" are mere creations of an utterly omnipotent God. You see those forces through the lens of a meticulously structured Perek, where each "chaotic" entity is put in its proper place in God's world of smooth and natural order. The frightening, imposing, people-smashing and crop-ruining picture of the planet is replaced by a universe that, over and over again, is "very good." The pagan perception of a cruel and uncontrollable existence is, to this day, replaced by the order and goodness of the Jewish/Modernist world-view.

The method applied to Biblical narrative holds true for Biblical law. The generation of the Exodus grew up in a particular legal context. Standing at Har Sinai, the similarities found in Halakhic passage only emphasize dramatic differences. Some of these deviations are seen by concluding our original, non-Jewish citations:

"If an ox, when it is walking along the street, gored a man to death, that case is not subject to claim. "

"If a man struck another man's wife, and caused her to have a miscarriage, they shall treat the wife of the man who caused her to have a miscarriage as he treated her; [the striker] shall compensate with the life [of his child]. "

"If a man stole . . . if it belonged to the church or if belonged to the state, he shall make thirty-fold restitution; if it belonged to a private citizen, he shall make good ten-fold. If the thief does not have . . . he shall be put to death."

The Torah rules, in direct contrast, that: 1) even in cases of "accidental" murder, the loss of a human life demands legal attention. 2) a human life is never sacrificed for a non-living embryo**, certainly not the life of an innocent child. 3) one who steals must pay back a more understandable fee of two-fold restitution, with no distinction between state and private property.

These and other instances contribute to an understanding of the Torah's legal "hiddushim" (novel ideas). Apart from receiving the particular Halakhot found in Parshat Mishpatim, the Jewish people were introduced to a "spirit of Halakha" emanating throughout. Some (but admittedly, not all) of our most central conceptions of justice may seem ordinary enough today, but were quite the "revelation" over three thousand years ago:

1. The central value of human life. No economic gift can erase the guilt of murder and no economic crime is ever punished with death. (See Moshe Greenberg's "The Biblical Grounding of Human Value.")
2. The equality of all individuals before the law. Whether young or old, poor or powerful, Cohen or Yisrael, man or woman, all property and life has equal value. (Granted, there are distinctions in the Torah between Jews and non-Jews.)
3. No unusual or "creative" punishments. (The four methods of execution in the Torah are delegated specific roles in specific cases. The grisly details and "creativity" of ANE punishment were, thankfully, not detailed in this Dvar Torah.)
4. A sense that apart from injuring a particular party, one's malfeasance is a sin "against God", which is morally reprehensible in and of itself. A husband has no right to pardon the murderer of his wife, nor a father the killer of his son.
5. No collective or re-directed punishment. A man's child, spouse, or slave is never punished for his sins. (God maintains the right to punish families and nations for the sins of its individuals. See 20:4. However, it remains solely in the hands of Divine judgment.)

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

-Many Pasukim in Parshat Mishpatim mirror legal codes of the Ancient Near East.
-A similar situation is found in Parshat Bereishit, where pagan creations myths are referenced.
-Just as Parshat Bereishit twists those references around, re-casting them through the lens of Torah theology, Mishpatim reverses course with those legal codes, setting new standards for justice, ethics, and morality.
- In particular, the Torah advocates the central value of human life, the concept of Bein Adam l'Haveiro crimes as a sin against God, the equality of all individuals before the law, the responsibility of those found guilty- which can never be re-directed or ignored, and the need for respectful and orderly forms of punishment. These values are absent from neighboring codes.

*Much of this Dvar Torah's content comes from materials studied in Dr. Moshe J. Bernstein's Intro to the Bible course.
** The Torah's position on abortion - an obviously sensitive topic - is by no means under discussion here.

Something to Think About over Leining

2008-01-23T17:58:00.001-08:00

The Mekhilta on our parsha records a Tannaitic dispute whether Yitro's visit to the Jewish people transpired before or after the giving of the Torah. Many centuries later, the Ramban discussed the argument, explaining each side's rationale. In defending the view that the Yitro narrative occurs after Matan Torah, he writes:

And [this opinion] is certainly aided by the verse which says . . . "And I [Moshe] inform [the Jews] of God's laws and his Torah," (18:16) . . . for they were given at Har Sinai!

Moshe describes to Yitro how he sits as judge of the Jewish people, adjudicating their disputes with Torah law. If this conversation took place before Matan Torah, then to which "laws and Torah" does Moshe refer!

Surprisingly, the Ramban ultimately concludes against this apparent disproof and claims that the narrative did indeed occur BEFORE the giving of the Torah. The Ramban leaves us to answer his own troubling question: which "laws and Torah" did Moshe use?!

Were they identical to those found in our Torah? If so, what level of authority did they carry? What is the value of a Torah pre-Divine Command? If not, how does an alternate set of laws change our understanding of the Torah's role? By what right did Moshe (and perhaps Hazal in his footsteps) legislate with a set of non-Biblical statutes?

Yitro: A Gentle Gentile

2008-01-23T17:40:00.000-08:00

The Yitro story follows the war with Amalek and proceeds Matan Torah, two Biblical sections of paramount resonance and fame. This peculiar placement begs the question: “מה ענין יתרו אצל הר סיני!” (What's one thing got to do with the other!)

Questions of structure and order always deserve analysis, but Yitro’s case is highlighted by a millennia-long debate. For a list of important but tangential reasons, some claim that the entire story actually happened after Matan Torah. (See Mekhilta, Ramban, and Ibn Ezra on 18:1.) Our question thus rings louder: if Yitro’s story transpired after Har Sinai, what thematic message does the Torah express by presenting it beforehand!

A careful look at the Yitro text reveals a series of fascinating literary links, which together suggest why the Torah communicates Yitro’s story exactly where it does.

Four distinctive phrases appear in both the Amalek and Yitro narratives, highlighting the dramatic contrast between the two adjacent figures.

1. Both Amalek and Yitro are introduced as “coming” from afar to engage the Israelite camp. While Amalek comes “to wage war,” (17:8) Yitro approaches – escorting Moshe’s wife and children - because “he heard all that God had done.” (18:1,5)
2. Both sections contain a mila munakh, or tone-setting key word. For Amalek “lachem,” to fight, appears four times, while for Yitro the same can be said for “tzil,” to save.
3. Both portions use the term "yad” (hand) in relation to God’s enemies. Amalek’s assault is described as “a hand upon the throne of the Lord” (17:16), while Yitro praises God as “the Lord who saved you from the hand of Egypt and the hand of Pharoah.” (18:10)
4. Both narratives can be split into two, with the term “makhar” (tomorrow) marking the latter phase. Amalek attacks, while the next day, the Jews go on the counterattack. (17:9) Yitro first greets Moshe and praises God for His many miracles, while the next day (18:13) he advises Moshe on how to run an efficient Jewish judiciary.

These examples showcase the dramatic difference between hostile, irreverent Amalek and amiable, helpful, devout Yitro.

But apart from distancing Yitro from Amalek, the text seems bent on linking him to Moshe himself. In several highly symbolic parallels, Yitro is raised to a strikingly Mosaic position:

1. Following Amalek’s attack, Moshe instructs his understudy Yehoshua to “choose for us men” to participate in the counterattack (17:9). After acknowledging Yitro’s sound advice, Moshe follows his father-in-law’s instructions and “chooses out able bodied men” for governmental positions (18:25).
2. Yehoshua obediently “did as Moshe said to him,” (17:10) while the Torah makes a point of stressing how Moshe “did all that [Yitro] said to him.” (18:25)
3. The relatively rare term kaveid, or heavy, appears in both stories. In the war with Amalek, victory is contigent on Moshe keeping his hands raised to the heavens. However, as he tired, his hands grew heavy, (17:12) and Aharon and Khur were forced to support him. Yitro warns Moshe that the burden of personally judging every Jewish court case is equally unbearable, whether or not Moshe feels the figurative burn. In the face of collapse, Yitro’s solution serves to lift Moshe out of an otherwise disastrous system.
4. After the miraculous defeat of Amalek, Moshe erects a sacrificial altar of gratitude (17:15). Similarly, in a moment of religious clarity and celebration, Yitro offers his own set of sacrifices (18:12).

These four connections produce a Yitro cast in the image of Moshe. In fact, combined with the contrasts between Yitro and Amalek, they represent a potential answer to our original question.

The war with Amalek and Matan Torah embody two of Chumash’s most Judeo-centric narratives. The Divine Election that culminated with Har Sinai crowned the Jewish people with a unique role, special laws, and distinctive relationship with God. At the same time, the Amalek story symbolizes (to this day!) all evil and baseness perceived in “the nations of the world.” Between these extreme accounts of Gentile aggression and Jewish election, enters Yitro. Lest we fall into the trap of narrow Jewish self-absorption or myopic xenophobia, the Torah presents the image of a cult priest that is nothing like Amalek and, at times, eerily resembles Moshe himself. Lest we mistake our role as “a kingdom of priests and a sanctified nation” (19:6) for mere ethnic selectivity, the Torah unveils the image of the pious, upstanding, spiritually complete Other, daring us to envision and recreate a world that is entirely Yitro.

Yitro: A Midrash

2008-01-23T16:41:00.000-08:00

Want to read a cool Midrash?

And Moshe sent away his father-in-law [Yitro] . . .

From here we learn that anyone who suffers through the pains of the community merits to see the community's comfort. Yitro was not part of the community's pain and, as such, did not merit [to participate] in their comfort. Which comfort? The giving of the Torah. Therefore, Moshe sent away his father in law. (Midrash on 18:27, exact source forthcoming)

The Midrash is playing on the strong, even harsh language of the verse and the fact that Matan Torah immediately follows Yitro's exit. However, it may also hint to a major step in Moshe's development.

After all, the Midrash is dripping with irony. If Yitro did not experience the pain of Egyptian slavery, neither did Moshe. A few weeks ago the Project took note of Moshe's initial failures in Egypt and the lukewarm reception which he received. We pondered whether "Moshe remained eternally out of touch, eternally the Outsider?" to a nation he was never really part of. He grew up in the lap of Egyptian luxury and came of age in the peaceful deserts of Midian; could Moshe overcome his mixed identity and represent a heritage he only partly knew?

The Midrash may be commenting on that very tension. Yitro, as Moshe's gentile father-in-law, stood as a glaring sign of Moshe's previous life and mixed identity. His presence in the camp no doubt reignited the questions which originally haunted Moshe's leadership: who is this outsider foisted upon us?

Before Matan Torah could proceed, Moshe was finally forced to commit. In sending away the closest thing he ever had to family, Moshe relinquished a part of himself and exchanged a father for a nation. He may never have tossed a child into the Nile River or lost a sister to the whip of an Egyptian taskmaster, but perhaps, in sending his father-in-law out his life, Moshe finally tasted the pain of community.

Amalek - Genetic or Generic

2008-01-17T18:42:00.000-08:00

Throughout the Talmud, Chazal employ different nationalities that appear in the bible as prototypes of evil. Included in this list are the Mitzrim, Canaanim, and of course Amalek. A number of contemporary Jewish philosophers have expounded and developed this concept further. I thought it would come in handy to have a specific quote available. This is by Rabbi J.B. Soloveitchik:
"Who is Amalek? He is the personification of total evil, for whom immorality has become the norm. The Torah says, "The Lord will be at war with Amalek throughout the ages" (Ex. 17:16). Dos it not seem undignified for the Lord to declare war on a Bedouin tribe? Rashi adds that "God swore that His name and throne would not be complete untilthe name of Amalek was obliterated." Furthermore, our Sages taught that the final triumph over Amalek will occur in the days of the Messiah.
Amalek is obviously more than a Bedouin tribe. He is more than a particular group, nationality or people. He is Everyman gone berserk, who has shed his Divine image for that of Satan. Any nation which declares that its policy is to destroy the Jewish people is Amalek, for it has emblazoned on its banner teh slogan of impassioned hatred "come, let us destroy them as a nation, that the name of ISrael may no more be remembered" (Ps. 83:5). This is the persistent villainy that the Lord bids us combat and against which He has sworn eternal enmity. It is for this reason that there is a positive Torah commandment: "Remember what Amalek did to you when you were on your journey, after you left Egypt... Do not forget!" (Deut: 25:17,19) This scriptural reading is appropriately prescribed for the Sabbat preceding Purim.
In our generation, HItler and Stalin are clearly Amalek personified. Jews in Germany, and even in concentration camps, discounted rumors of mass Killings until it was too late... Amalek is an historic phenomenon; Lo Tishkah - the lesson must never be forgotten." (emphasis mine)
~ Reflections of the Rav, page 180-181
See this whole chapter called "Lessons in Jewish Survival" where Rav Soloveitchik lists the different lessons that we can and indeed are obligated to learn from Amalek.

Nothing New Under the Sun

2008-01-16T22:36:00.000-08:00

Except for our latest contributor, Judah the Prince.

Two versions of the same Biblical story making you think P, J, E, or D? Have no fear: let the Prince explain how multiple versions are just part of a vibrant and dynamic Torah.

Beshalach: A Kinder, Gentler Amalek?

2008-01-16T22:03:00.000-08:00

Parshat Beshalach concludes with Amalek's infamous attack on the Jewish people. While most today associate the story with the Biblical injunction to wipe out Amalek, neither that command nor the details of Amalek's cruelty actually appear in our Parsha. Instead, both occur in a supplemental account located in Parshat Ki-Teitzei. In fact, numerous distinctions exist between the two narratives:

1. Beshalach provides military detail of the victory over Amalek. It explains that Yehoshua fought in the plain while Moshe sat on a mountain summit — the victory was contingent upon Moshe holding his hands upwards. These details do not appear in Ki-Teitzei.

2. In Beshalach, God declares that He will wipe out Amalek. The raid is criticized as "a hand upon the throne of the Lord." (17:16) This stands in contrast to Ki-Teitzei, which commands the Israelites themselves to remember the attack and insists that, once they inherit the land of Israel, they must wipe out Amalek.

3. Beshalach artlessly presents the Amalek onslaught as, "Then Amalek came and fought with Israel in Rephidim."(17:1) A more sinister picture is painted in Ki-Teitzei: "How [Amalek] met you by the way, and attacked the back of the camp, all that were enfeebled in your rear flank, when you were faint and weary; and [Amalek] did not fear G-d" (25:18).

The two sources complement each other, each providing separate but essential details in order to emphasize a particular perspective on the overall event. When faced with two takes on the same story, it is the reader's job to pinpoint each particular point of view and explain why it is infused within each particular narrative.

From the outset, we can identify two different transgressions committed by Amalek: on the one hand, they attacked God's chosen nation, the people whom God had just miraculously redeemed from Egyptian slavery; on the other hand, Amalek's cowardly assault, directed at the camp's infirm rear, was a moral and military crime against the nation itself.

Notice that Beshalach harps on the details of the battle while Ki-Teitzei focuses on the despicable tactics employed. From the lens of Beshalach, Amalek sinned by merely challenging God's chosen people. In contrast, Ki-Teitzi's description points to the war crime committed against the Jewish nation.

The conclusions of each narrative fit the divergent perspectives each provides. Beshalach ends with God vowing to wipe out Amalek, explaining that their attack was a sin upon His throne. Ki-Teitzi has G-d commanding the Jewish nation themselves to seek and destroy an Amalek that wronged them.

This leads us to ask why each perspective of sin appears where it does and in doing so, to analyze each narrative within its respective context. For example, Beshalach's version must be analyzed against the backdrop of a greater Exodus narrative. In Shirat Hayam, the nation triumphantly sings:

Then were the chiefs of Edom afraid; the mighty men of Moab seized with trembling; all the inhabitants of Canaan are melted away. Terror and dread fell upon them; by the greatness of God’s arm they are as still as a stone…(15:15-16)

As the verses attest, the beleaguered nation's redemption from Egypt had international ramifications. God destroyed the dominant super-power of the era and the miracles that ensued were prominent enough to instill fear in the distant lands of Moav. In the eyes of the region, the Israelite God reigned supreme. And yet, the same dread that befell the Canaanites (15:15) did not deter the Amalekites. Being that the preceding narratives emphasized God's dominance and omnipotence, it is only appropriate that the subsequent Beshalach section paints Amalek's deplorable actions as diametrically opposed to that depiction. Likewise, while Sefer Devarim preps the Jewish people for entering their homeland – how to build a model Jewish country with a model national mission – it is only appropriate for the Torah to emphasize that the budding Jewish nation has a responsibility to erase from its world the evil and immoral forever symbolized by Amalek.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table
-- Some of the most familiar aspects of the Amalek story are absent from its account in Parshat Beshalach.

-- In fact, there are three major differences: only Beshalach contains details of the battle, only Ki-Titzei describes Amalek's cruelty, and the famous command to erase Amalek only appears in the latter, while in Beshalach, God takes up that responsibility.
-- Two accounts offer two perspectives. A major theme in Shemot is God's control of the world and public selection of His people. Amalek's attack is portrayed through that lens, where it represents a "hand on the throne" of God's omnipotence. A major theme in Devarim is preparing Bnei Yisrael for the transition to political nationhood and, as such, Ki Teitzei emphasizes the national responsibilities incumbent upon Amalek's victims.

Methodology: One Story, Two Versions?

2008-01-16T21:18:00.000-08:00

It is important to recognize how the Dvar Torah for Parshat Beshalach was constructed.
Often, particularly in Sefer Devarim, the Torah will "retell" a story that appears previously in Chumash. The most salient example of this might be the sin of the Meraglim (spies) which appears first in Shlach and then is retold in V'Etchanon. Anytime the reader is confronted with such a phenomenon, he must do the following:

1. Examine both narratives carefully. Be sure to note how they are similar, and, more importantly, how they are different.

2. Accumulate and collect the evidence. Try to add up each narrative's respective evidence and deduce a separate message from each. In our example, we concluded from Beshalach's evidence one particular crime committed by Amalek, and from Ki-Teitzi we concluded another.

3. After distilling the essential perspective or outlook of each account, you need to address why each narrative "selected" its own respective outlook. In terms of this Dvar Torah, we addressed why one crime was particularly fitting for Beshalach and another for Ki-Teitzei. Often, contextualizing each narrative provides a "bigger picture" as to why its emphasis is appropriate.

These steps form a piece of a method pioneered by the late Rabbi Mordechai Breuer, a world expert in Tanach, winner of the Israel Prize for original Torah research, and father of the famed "Keter Yerushalayim" edition of the Bible. He developed the Shitat haBekhinot, or Perspectives Method, which uncovers sophisticated, multifaceted perspectives in what may otherwise appear to be varying or contradictory Biblical passages.

A New Man

2008-01-10T07:56:00.000-08:00

The Project is proud to introduce it's latest contributor, Ben K. Check him out as he leads the Project away from literary analysis and towards - brace yourself - the world of Jewish philosophy. Can pshat and makhshava co-exist? We think so.

Why do Annoying Things Happen to Pretty Good People?: The Ramban on Chance and Nature

2008-01-10T07:13:00.000-08:00

At the end of Parshat Bo, the Ramban (Nachmanides) discusses the thematic intent behind the Torah’s presentation of Yetziat Mitzraim. This particular story, he explains, was made so prominent and central in order to ingrain in Judaism four key notions of God, namely: 1) He exists; 2) He knows what goes on in the world; 3) He keeps records of mankind’s good and bad deeds; and 4) He can act in the world.

Towards the end of his commentary, the Ramban adds:

שאין לאדם חלק בתורת משה רבינו עד שנאמין בכל דברינו ומקרינו שכלם נסים אין בהם טבע

ומנהגו של עולם, בין ברבים בין ביחיד.

No one has a portion in the Torah of Moshe Rabbeinu until he believes that all of our affairs and ‘random’ events – whether among individuals or communities – are miraculous; they are not subject to natural or worldly causation. [1]

Viewed on its own, this sentence implies that, according to the Ramban, everything in the world is the direct result of Divine intervention; nothing at all happens by chance.

In the Rambam’s (Maimonides) discussion of hashgakha (Providence), he attributes this view to a Muslim sect called the Ash’ari (Guide 3:17-18). According to the Ash’ari, when leaves fall in the forest, “the wind did not blow by accident; God made it blow. The wind did not make the leaves fall; rather, each leaf fell due to Divine decree. He is the One who made them fall now, in this spot. It would be impossible for them to fall a little later or sooner, and it is impossible that they would fall in another place. All this was decreed from time immemorial.” According to this extreme position, God decrees everything in advance, without exception. If this approach is carried to its logical conclusion, it would be impossible for humans to control their actions and exercise free will – after all, their actions were “decreed from time immemorial.” If so, how can God punish people for their misdeeds? Since God does punish people for their actions, and since the Rambam, like virtually every other medieval Jewish philosopher, assumes that God acts justly, Maimonides rejects this approach to Divine control of the world.

Based on this argument, it is reasonable to state that the Ramban did not maintain God’s control of absolutely everything in the world; there must be room, at the very least, for free will. Even if we interpret the Talmudic line “ha-Kol bidey shamayim” literally (everything is in the hands of Heaven), there still remains an exception for “yirat shamayim” (. . .except for fear of Heaven, BT Berakhot 33b). However, even granting freedom of human action, the Ramban’s statement still appears extreme. Did Nachmanides really hold that there is no such thing as a force of nature? After all, the Ramban was himself a physician (Shu”t ha-Rashba 1:120, 167). If he thought that there is no such thing as the natural order, what use is there in practicing medicine?

Moreover, Ramban’s statement in our Parsha seems to directly contradict his opinion elsewhere. For example, in his commentary on the verse which states that God “knew” Avraham (Bereishit 19:18), Ramban says that “people are left to chance until their time of rechoning comes. But [God] directs His attention towards His devout ones to know them individually, so that His guarding is constantly attached to them, and the knowledge and remembering of them will not leave His view at all.” In other words, the “knowledge” that God had of Avraham is that He guarded him from all random mishap, which He does not do for other people. Unlike Avraham, they are affected by chance, and not all of their affairs are governed by Divine providence. [2]

If so, what are we to do with the Ramban’s statement that there is no such thing as nature? Rabbi Dr. David Berger, in an effort to reconcile these and other words of the Ramban, reads the Ramban’s statement that there is no chance in the world as referring specifically to the area of reward and punishment. When God decides to punish or reward someone in this world, there is no chance involved; it is guided completely by Providence. However, the majority of people are not constantly in the throes of reward and punishment, and face moments of chance and nature. This interpretation of the Ramban’s position is buttressed by the continuation of our original passage: “Rather, if one performs the mitzvot, his reward will make him succeed, and if he transgresses them, his punishment will destroy him – everything by Divine decree.” This description of Providence connects it to moments of reward and punishment while matching the description the Ramban gave with regard to ‘knowing’ Avraham. All those not in Avraham’s special category must always entertain the entry of chance in their daily lives and therefore need to seek natural resolutions for man’s medical and situational needs.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

- In Parshat Bo, Nachmanides states that "all are our affairs . . . are miraculous; are not subject to nature."
- A glance at his and Maimonides' works reveal that this statement can not be taken to its extreme: Ramban would concede there is room for free will.
- Free will aside, other passages in the Ramban's commentary suggest their is room for chance and nature in normal daily life.
- Rabbi Dr. David Berger suggests to read the original statement in the context of reward and punishment. All of our moments of reward and punishment are coordinated with complete Providence, while at other times chance and randomness may intervene.

Question for Discussion: What about other things? For example, the Rambam maintains that although Divine providence does not extend to individual animals, it does extend to animal species. Are there other ways of drawing the line? What about inanimate objects? What if what happens to inanimate objects could impact humans – say, the melting of Greenland's ice?

[1] From the way the Ramban uses the terms ‘miracle’ and ‘nature’, it is clear that he understands a ‘miracle’ as something that God does that changes the natural order of events, and not something that underlies the natural course of events. For example, in Bereishit 46:15, he says that ‘all the foundations of the Torah are hidden miracles. There are only miracles in the Torah, not nature (teva) or regular course of events (minhag), for all of the promises of the Torah are miracles and wonders, for someone who eats forbidden fats or has forbidden relations will not die due to the natural course of events.’
[2] In a similar passage (commentary to Devarim 11:13), Ramban substitutes the phrase minhago shel olam (natural course of events) for what he calls chance in Bereishit, implying that chance is part of the natural order of events.

Finals Week

2008-01-03T17:32:00.000-08:00

Our deepest apologies, but Finals have ruined yet another part of these past few days; discounting a miracle, there'll be no Dvar Torah this week.

A quick shot: What's with the long genealogical list that appears in the middle of our Parsha, right before Moshe confronts Pharoah? In R. Moshe Lichtenstein's in-depth analysis of Moshe, Tzir v-Tzoan, he suggests that the exhaustive list of names reflects Moshe going door to door asking for the support and accompaniment of each leader in Israel. Why does the genealogy stop after only three Tribes? After so many discouraging no's, he finally gives up.

While this fascinating image might not be Pshat as The Dvar Torah Project defines it, the idea behind it makes you start to wonder.

After all, how well did Moshe know his own people? Did he know their names, their family, their genealogy? Was there a formal introduction, a meet-and-greet . . . or did Moshe remain eternally out of touch, eternally the Outsider?

Shemot - A sequel to Bereishit

2007-12-26T21:43:00.002-08:00

The beginnings of Sefer Shemot and Sefer Bereishit share a number of interesting parallels. We will identify them and then attempt to understand their meaning.

Shemot begins with a summary of Bereishit's end, establishing continuity between the two books. The first five Pasukim list off the seventy people who traveled to Mitzrayim with Yaakov, a list previously mentioned in Bereishit 46. The text then describes the exponential growth that the nation undergoes, using very familiar terminology:

ז וּבְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, פָּרוּ וַיִּשְׁרְצוּ וַיִּרְבּוּ וַיַּעַצְמוּ--בִּמְאֹד מְאֹד; וַתִּמָּלֵא הָאָרֶץ, אֹתָם
But the Isrealites were fertile and prolific; they multiplied and increased very greatly, so that the land was filled with them. (Shemot 1:7)

This is very reminiscent of Creation's famous language:

כח וַיְבָרֶךְ אֹתָם, אֱלֹהִים, וַיֹּאמֶר לָהֶם אֱלֹהִים פְּרוּ וּרְבוּ וּמִלְאוּ אֶת-הָאָרֶץ, וְכִבְשֻׁהָ
God blessed them; and God said unto them: 'Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it … (Bereishit 1:28)

As well as the conclusion of the Deluge narrative:

א וַיְבָרֶךְ אֱלֹהִים, אֶת-נֹחַ וְאֶת-בָּנָיו; וַיֹּאמֶר לָהֶם פְּרוּ וּרְבוּ, וּמִלְאוּ אֶת-הָאָרֶץ
Bring forth with thee every living thing that is with thee . . . that they may swarm in the earth, and be fruitful, and multiply upon the earth.' (Bereishit 9:1)

A second connection appears with the birth of Moshe. As soon as he enters the world, one detail is immediately apparent:

ב וַתַּהַר הָאִשָּׁה, וַתֵּלֶד בֵּן; וַתֵּרֶא אֹתוֹ כִּי-טוֹב הוּא, וַתִּצְפְּנֵהוּ שְׁלֹשָׁה יְרָחִים.
And the woman conceived, and bore a son; she saw him that he was good and she hid him three months. (Shemot 2:2)

His mother sees that "Ki Tov Hu." Indeed, these are the well-known words that conclude every day of Creation. You may remember that the Midrash interprets the phrase to mean that the room lit up with Moshe's presence. The Midrash is just following the obvious parallel to Bereishit's initial use of the term – God's creation of light.

A few months later, Moshe's life includes another Bereishit connection. No longer able to hide him, Moshe's mother hatches a desperate, almost far-fetched plan. The connection is clear: as she lays the basket upon the Nile's cool waters, Sefer Shemot begins it's own "Noah's Ark" story.

There is one more pecularity in this section. "Elohim" is the only name of God used in the beginning of Shemot, the same "natural" name of God employed throughought the opening narratives of Bereishit.

So what does this tell us? What themes do these textual clues point to?

The opening chapters of Bereishit emphasize God's total control of world events and, in the end, his total dedication to the human race. In the opening chapters of Am Yisrael's history, Chumash stresses God's total involvement and commitment to His newest creation, the Jewish people. We begin with Pharaoh's three attempts to destroy Am Yisrael, which are met by the Jew's uncanny ability to thrive in the face of persecution. After Pharaoh's first attempt, the Torah pronounces this theme explicitly:

"But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and the more they spread abroad." No matter what challenges were set before them, Bnei Yisrael somehow continue to exponentially reproduce. Pharaoh then contacts the midwives who famously disobey his orders. Finally, Pharaoh decrees that all male children must be mercilessly tossed into the Nile. Here the irony is richest – Yocheved uses the very murder weapon, the Nile, to save her child! Thus three times we see Pharaoh attempt to impede Bnei Yisrael and all three times he is grossly disappointed. The theme of a Natural Creator thrice dominating Mortal Evil applies to human history as whole (Garden, Flood, Migdal Bavel) and Jewish history in particular.

But there is more to this multifaceted connection, for the Jewish people are not meant to be just any other nation. To a certain degree, we represent a "new creation," unlike the nations presented in the beginning of Bereishit. They form themselves around their own individualized mission statements, while Bnei Yisrael is established by God and devoted to His Divine mission. The message may be taken one step further: Bnei Yisrael's formation and assignment are the next step in a single, ongoing creation. Our existence helps complete this world, helps guide the world towards the purpose for which it was created. This theme is the perfect way to start the Sefer – it is not a local, narrow glance at a specific nation, an anticlimactic change of focus from universalistic humanism to particularistic tribalism. Rather, it represents the continuation of the mission God put forth for all mankind, the mission that began in those famous Perekim that open Sefer Bereishit. The Bereishit narrative ends anticlimactically, lacking the declarative "Ki Tov Hu" - yet with Moshe's - and Bnei Yisrael's – birth, the maternal "Ki Tov Hu" completes the creation narrative and begins a new chapter in world history.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

--The beginning of Shemot uses some of the most famous phrases from the story of creation.
--Bnei Yisrael is "paru u'rvu", Moshe is seen to be "Ki Tov", Shem Elohim is dominant, and Moshe stays alive on a floating ark.
--The Jewish people represent a "new creation." But what does this mean? Is our special role a privilege or a responsibility? Was the world created for the Jewish people, or was the Jewish people created for the world?

"And all of Israel gathered as one . . . as Chaverim" (Shoftim 20:11)*

2007-12-19T18:57:00.000-08:00

At the end of Sefer Bereishit, the legacy that started with Avraham undergoes a change. Until Yaakov, each of the Avot only passed the tradition on to one of their children. Avraham chooses Yitzchak and rejects his other children. Yitzchak passes "Birkat Avraham" to Yaakov (Bereishit 28:3) and not Eisav. Yaakov, however, takes a radically different approach. Instead of choosing one son over the rest, Yaakov chooses all of his sons to be his successors. With this decision begins an unprecedented era of plurality in Avraham’s tradition. Instead of being represented by a single personality in a generation, Bnei Yisrael (aptly named) now has 12 different representatives at once. Each of these Shvatim passes his own legacy on to his children, forming 12 distinct tribes within Am Yisrael. Yaakov's Brachot to his sons highlight for us twelve disparate individuals, each with unique personality traits. I think the following Midrash Tanchuma on this week’s Parsha picks up on this plurality in the Brachot themselves:

וזאת אשר דבר להם אביהם וגו', ברך אותו אין כתיב כאן אלא ברך אותם למה לפי שנתן ליהודה גבורתו של ארי וליוסף גבורתו של שור ולנפתלי קלות איל ולדן נשיכתו של נחש תאמר שזה גדול מזה הרי כללן כלם באחרונה איש אשר כברכתו ברך אותם

The Pasuk does not say “he blessed him” rather “he blessed them.” Why? Since he gave Yehuda the strength of a lion and Yosef the strength of an ox and Naphtali the swiftness of a deer and Dan the bite of a snake- you might be led to say one is greater than the other- so he included them all together at the end “each according to the blessing that he blessed them”

The idea that each of the Shvatim represents different (maybe even contradictory) character traits and that only together they constitute the full nature of Am Yisrael is a theme that runs through Chazal (see for example Ramban and Ibn Ezra on Bamidbar 2: 2, 3. They discuss a Midrash that describes how each of the Shevet flags in the Midbar had a symbol corresponding to the faces of the Angels of Maaseh Hamerkava- the idea being, I think, that different faces come together to make a throne for the Shechina.)

This model of Shvatim working together appeals to our modern sensibilities that there might not necessarily be one “right” way of doing things to the exclusion of all the other “wrong” options, rather there could be a whole plethora of “right” ways provided that we work to a common goal. I'd love to say that this is the model that Tanach recommends to us for eternity,-and then this would probably be a dvar Torah that you've heard before- but a quick historical run through the Neviim Rishonim gives a rather bleak perspective on pluralistic Shevet-cooperation. (You might have already noticed that we don't actually have the Shevet system today.)

Sefer Shoftim does convey that each of the Shvatim has its own strengths. Almost every Shevet manages to put forth a Shofet to lead Am Yisrael and the Shoftim that we know about all act in their own unique way. Nonetheless, a repeated tragic flaw is that the diverse Shvatim don’t really work very well together (see Shoftim 5: 16-17, 12:5-7, 15:11, 20:1-48.). The kingship that was meant to bring them together eventually fractures them into two rival kingdoms (For two extreme examples, see Shmuel II 19:42-20:2 and Melachim I 12:16.)

By the end of Sefer Melachim, the Northern Kingdom is sent into exile by Assyria, not to be heard of again. The historical legacy of Am Yisrael as we know it continues with only a few Shvatim: Yehuda, maybe Binyamin, and some Kohanim and Levi'im that were still around. Does this mean that we rejected the Shvatim model with all its pluralistic implications in favor of a more uniform approach? Certainly the Shevet structure of the Jewish people was dropped for a more limited model that includes only a few tribes. Does that mean that the ideology of diversity that went along with it was also dropped? Did the multi-faceted approach to Judaism prove too much for us to handle, too subject to divisiveness and tension?

Perhaps this question is what motivated a Machloket many centuries later in Sanhedrin 10,3:

"עשרת השבטים אינן עתידין לחזור שנא' (דברים כט) וישליכם אל ארץ אחר כיום הזה מה היום הולך ואינו חוזר אף הם הולכים ואינן חוזרים דברי ר"ע ר"א אומר כיום הזה מה יום מאפיל ומאיר אף עשרת השבטים שאפילה להן כך עתידה להאיר להם:"
“The ten tribes will not return in the future, as it says “and He sent them to another land as this very day”- just like a day goes and does not come back, so too they (the shvatim) have gone and will not come back. This is the opinion of R’ Akiva. R’ Elazar says “as this very day” – just like a day gets dark and light again, so too for the ten tribes for whom the world has become dark, in the future it will become like again.”

Rabbi Elazar maintains that the remaining Shvatim will come back in the Messianic Era. This means that that the exile of the ten tribes was only temporary and that the ideal, Messianic model for the Jewish people is the Shevet structure. Rabbi Akiva, on the other hand, thinks otherwise. Perhaps he feels (a little pessimistically) that the Shevet system just didn’t work out, will not work out, and is rejected for good.

This Machloket (or really, a machloket about whether there is a machloket) continues through to the time of the Rishonim and Mifarshei HaMishna. Some Rishonim, including the Ran in his Chiddushim, felt that Rabbi Akiva had to be reinterpreted. They simply could not believe that Rabbi Akiva could hold that the Ten Shvatim were not coming back. The Bartenura on the other hand, interprets the Mishna literally, ascribing to R' Akiva the view that the Shvatim will really not return.

It seems to me that this machloket with its ideological implications remains as open as this very day**.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

-The individualized Brachot that Yaakov gives to each of his sons paints a picture of a diverse Bnei Yisrael, where different personalities play different roles.
-This is Bnei Yisrael's model when traveling through the Midbar and in the period of the Shoftim.
-Sadly, it led to divisiveness and never quite worked out as planned. Eventually, the exile of the Ten Tribes left us with a fraction of our previous diversity.
-Maybe this is the way it was meant to be! Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Eliezer argue about whether the Ten Tribes are even destined to return.

*10 Points if you catch the irony in the title.

** It is interesting to note that Rabbi Eliezer's opinion is much more well known and that most people don't realize that there might be a dissenting opinion. I wonder whether this means that the mesorah of Am Yisrael has taken a side on this machloket.

Something to Think about over Leining

2007-12-12T11:00:00.000-08:00

Want to learn an amazing Midrash?

"And Yosef could no longer refrain . . . and he cried."

He could no longer refrain, for he saw that the brothers wanted to kill Binyamin. They were saying to him, "Thief son of a thief! [גנב בן גנבת] Look at what you've caused us!" (Torah Shleimah Breishit 45:6)

Wow! This interpretation completely re-casts the dynamic and emotions in the room! A. The Shvatim were about to kill another of Rachel's sons. B. They refer to Rachel as a thief (!) C. Yosef doesn't reveal himself because his love, pathos, and longing for family overwhelm him, but because he realizes how terrible the Shvatim are!

What textual hints lead the Midrash to say this? What clues are they playing on and what questions does it solve? Can you see anything of this nature when you read the Parsha?

Vayigash

2007-12-12T07:37:00.000-08:00

The following Midrash appears in Breishit Rabbah 93:

" ויגש יהודה עליו And Yehuda approached [Yosef] . . . " R. Yehuda says 'approaching' is for war; R. Nechemya says 'approaching' is for appeasement; the Rabbanan say 'approaching' is for prayer. R. Elazar solved it: [The Biblical Yehuda thought] if for war, then I come for war; if for appeasement, I come for appeasement; if for prayer, I come for prayer.

At first glance, the Midrash's thrust is simple. The word הגשה, or approaching, has several connotations in Tanach, and the Midrash argues over which meaning is meant in this week's Sedrah. However, any good student of the Little Midrash Says may have noticed a striking similarity between this passage and a Hazal that appears in Parshat Vayishlach, when Yaakov prepares to meet Esav:

And Yaakov prepared in three ways: gifts, war, and prayer. (TNY 6a, quoted in Rashi 32:9)

Our Midrash attributes to Yehuda's story both the format (three options) and the content (the specific options) that his father used when confronting Esav. It seems that our Midrash's simple discussion of semantics is really doing much more. It attempts to place a thematic link between the Yehuda and Yaakov stories. This becomes all the more apparent when you realize that הגשה has more than just three uses in Tanach. (See the next paragraph in Breishit Rabba for five more!) It seems that our Midrash wants to highlight only these three.

Perhaps Hazal were playing on something much more elaborate than these three options. We can find many literary links between the two Parshiot. We'll begin with the relatively obvious and then move our way up. Due to the three minute rule, a quick summary is presented here. The sources themselves are included afterwards.

1) הגשה- Both Parshiot contain the relatively uncommon term over and over again.

2) NECK, KISS, CRY- In Vayishlach, Esav falls on Yaakov's neck, kisses him, and they cry. In our Sedrah, Yosef falls on Binyamin's neck and all the brothers kiss and cry.

3) SEARCH FOR STOLEN OBJECTS- At the beginning of the journey that will lead him to Esav, Yaakov is tracked down by Lavan, who accuses him of stealing his gods. Lavan searches the entire camp. When the brothers leave Yosef's palace, they are accused of stealing his goblet. They search the entire camp.

4) AN UNINTENDED CURSE- Yaakov curses with death whomever stole Lavan's gods, not knowing Rachel was indeed responsible. The brothers curse with death whomever stole Yosef's goblet, not knowing it would be found in Binyamin's bag.

5) A MAN LEFT ALONE- Binyamin is described as alone with his father in the exact same way Yaakov was described as alone with the man he wrestled. וַיִּוָּתֵר הוּא לְבַדּוֹ

6) WHAT?!- Fed up with Lavan, Yaakov explodes in a series of impassioned rhetorical questions. Desperate to save Binyamin, Yehuda explodes in a series of impassioned rhetorical questions.

7) YOU'RE BETTER THAN YOU THINK- Yaakov sweet-talks Esav by saying his face is exactly like God's. Yehuda sweet-talks Yosef by saying he is exactly like Pharoah.

What does it all mean? Why does Chumash set up such an elaborate parellel between Yaakov's journey to Esav and Yehuda's interaction with Yosef? Why does the Midrash direct us to it? Somethings going on here!

I'm not really sure. I'm trying to locate contrasts between the two stories; I'm seeking nuances in character development; I'm on the lookout for complimentary Midrashim.

So . . . any thoughts?

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

-A Midrash claims that Yehuda approached Yosef with three possibilities in mind: prayer, appeasement, and war.
- This formulation parallels a Midrash's description of how Yaakov prepared for meeting Esav.
-In fact, there are many literary connections between the two parshiot. Almost word for word language is used to describe approaching, kissing, crying, falling on the neck, a search for stolen objects, and an unintended curse. Two uncommon sentence structures also link the two parshiot: rhetorical questioning and comparison to the Divine.

Sources for Vayigash

2007-12-12T06:29:00.000-08:00

הגשה
Until he approached [Esav] . . . then the handmaidens approached . . . and Leah also approached . . .and then Yosef and Rachel approached. (33:6,7)
--And Yehuda approached [Yosef] . . . and Yosef said to his brothers, 'Approach, I pray you.' And they approached. (44:18, 45:4)
וַתִּגַּשְׁןָ הַשְּׁפָחוֹת הֵנָּה וְיַלְדֵיהֶן, וַתִּשְׁתַּחֲוֶיןָ. ז וַתִּגַּשׁ גַּם-לֵאָה וִילָדֶיהָ, וַיִּשְׁתַּחֲווּ; וְאַחַר, נִגַּשׁ יוֹסֵף וְרָחֵל—וַיִּשְׁתַּחֲווּ
וַיִּגַּשׁ אֵלָיו יְהוּדָה . . . וַיֹּאמֶר יוֹסֵף אֶל-אֶחָיו גְּשׁוּ-נָא אֵלַי, וַיִּגָּשׁוּ;

NECK, KISS, CRY
And [Esav] fell on his neck, and kissed him, and they wept. (33:4)
--And [Yosef] fell upon his brother Binyamin's neck, and wept; and Benjamin wept upon his neck. And he kissed all his brothers, and wept upon them. (45:14,15)
ד וַיָּרָץ עֵשָׂו לִקְרָאתוֹ וַיְחַבְּקֵהוּ, וַיִּפֹּל עַל-צַוָּארָו וַיִּשָּׁקֵהוּ; וַיִּבְכּוּ
וַיִּפֹּל עַל-צַוְּארֵי בִנְיָמִן-אָחִיו, וַיֵּבְךְּ וּבִנְיָמִן--בָּכָה, עַל-צַוָּארָיו. טו וַיְנַשֵּׁק לְכָל-אֶחָיו, וַיֵּבְךְּ עֲלֵהֶם

SEARCH FOR STOLEN OBJECTS
'Why have you stolen my gods?' . . . And Lavan went into Yaakov's tent, and Leah's tent, and the maidservant's tent, and he did not find them. (31:30,33)
--And they took down every man's sack to the ground, and opened every sack. And he searched, beginning at the eldest, and leaving off at the youngest, and the goblet was found in Binyamin's sack. (44:11)

לָמָּה גָנַבְתָּ, אֶת-אֱלֹהָי. . . וַיָּבֹא לָבָן בְּאֹהֶל יַעֲקֹב וּבְאֹהֶל לֵאָה, וּבְאֹהֶל שְׁתֵּי הָאֲמָהֹת--וְלֹא מָצָא; וַיֵּצֵא מֵאֹהֶל לֵאָה, וַיָּבֹא בְּאֹהֶל רָחֵל.
וַיְמַהֲרוּ, וַיּוֹרִדוּ אִישׁ אֶת-אַמְתַּחְתּוֹ--אָרְצָה; וַיִּפְתְּחוּ, אִישׁ אַמְתַּחְתּוֹ. יב וַיְחַפֵּשׂ--בַּגָּדוֹל הֵחֵל, וּבַקָּטֹן כִּלָּה; וַיִּמָּצֵא, הַגָּבִיעַ, בְּאַמְתַּחַת, בִּנְיָמִן.

AN UNINTENDED CURSE
'With whomever you find your gods, he will not live.' . . . For Yaakov did not know that Rachel had stolen them. (31:32)
--'With whomever of your servant's the goblet be found, let him die.' (44:9)
עִם אֲשֶׁר תִּמְצָא אֶת-אֱלֹהֶיךָ, לֹא יִחְיֶה
אֲשֶׁר יִמָּצֵא אִתּוֹ מֵעֲבָדֶיךָ, וָמֵת;

A MAN LEFT ALONE
And Yaakov was left alone. And he wrestled with a man until day break. (32:25)
--'We have an old father, and a little child of his old age; and his brother is dead, and he alone is left from him mother.' (42:20)
וַיִּוָּתֵר יַעֲקֹב, לְבַדּו
וַיִּוָּתֵר הוּא לְבַדּוֹ לְאִמּוֹ וְאָבִיו אֲהֵבוֹ.

WHAT?!
What is my fault! What is my sin that you hotly pursue me?!' (31:36)
--'What can we say!. . .what can we speak! What can clear us!' (44:16)
וַיֹּאמֶר לְלָבָן, מַה-פִּשְׁעִי מַה חַטָּאתִי, כִּי דָלַקְתָּ אַחֲרָי.
מַה-נֹּאמַר לַאדֹנִי, מַה-נְּדַבֵּר, וּמַה-נִּצְטַדָּק;

YOUR BETTER THAN YOU THINK
'If I find favor in you eyes . . . for I have seen your face, it is like the face of God." (33:10)
--"Don't be angry with your servant; for you, you are like Pharoah." (44:18)
אַל-נָא אִם-נָא מָצָאתִי חֵן בְּעֵינֶיךָ . . . כִּי עַל-כֵּן רָאִיתִי פָנֶיךָ, כִּרְאֹת פְּנֵי אֱלֹהִים
וְאַל-יִחַר אַפְּךָ בְּעַבְדֶּךָ: כִּי כָמוֹךָ, כְּפַרְעֹה.

What's Pshat in Pshat?

2007-12-10T09:09:00.000-08:00

The Dvar Torah Project has been accused of accepting only a very narrow brand of Dvar Torah. Specifically, only the so called "New School" of Orthodox interpretation is kosher, while supposedly unsophisticated approaches, say, an analysis of Rashi's commentary, are swept aside as a source of scorn and cruel laughter.

Fortunately, this is false. Firstly, it's not so much cruel laughter as it is a dejected mix of pity and frustration. Secondly, a broad group of styles and methods bear the stamp of DTP approval. Indeed, any approach that offers a "Pshat" interpretation is just fine by us. Now, pshat is a hotly contested expression, so for convenience sake we'll resort to the term "sincere." Sincere Divrei Torah follow a single rule:

1. At the end of the Dvar Torah, the speaker can turn to his audience and proudly say, "I'm serious. I really think that's what it means."

With that rule in mind, a sincere Dvar Torah can explore just about anything. A sincere Dvar Torah can uncover the hidden meaning of a medrash, can discuss a Talmudic interpretation, can explain an argument amongst Rishonic Meforshim, and can even highlight an inference in Rashi's commentary. It doesn't matter what the "what" is, as long there is a serious attempt to actually understand what the "what" is saying.

How often do we hear and read Divrei Torah that fail by this standard? What does it say about our respect for Torah and our respect for ourselves? When and why did the standard "vortlach" format become acceptable?

Don't get us wrong, non-Pshat has its benefits. A rousing Drasha or penetrating Mussar shmooze more than justify the use of non-Pshat. Inspiration is a hard thing to come by. Likewise, some expressions of non-Pshat display remarkable intellectual ingenuity. It takes an impressive mind to tie together the argument in Hilchot Shekhita to Avraham's thoughts at the Akeida. Sure, you can't call these Divrei Torah "true", but a well-crafted Drash weaves together so many disparate sources that you actually begin to wonder.

Unfortunately, most examples of non-Pshat are neither inspiring nor overwhelmingly intelligent. Lacking the integrity of Pshat and the shine of great Drash, they offer well-intentioned but completely meaningless substitutions for Torah.

Mikeitz

2007-12-06T11:17:00.000-08:00

Mikeitz contains a noteworthy use of a classic Torah tool: contrast and foil. Three times Reuven and Yehuda are confronted with similar situations yet respond from very different perspectives.

1. Mechirat Yosef: Reuven recommends leaving Yosef to passively die, so as to not be guilty of his murder. Yehuda is against any form of murder and advises that Yosef merely be sold.
2. Bringing Binyamin to Mitzraim: For compensation in case Binyamin is harmed, Reuven pledges to kill his own two son's, while Yehuda makes himself – and only himself – completely responsible if something goes awry.
3. Trouble in Egypt: When the brothers connect their problems in Egypt to their guilt for selling Yosef, Reuven distances himself from the group, blaming everyone but himself. Yehuda likewise separates himself from his brothers, but in leading the way out of their troubles.

At first glance, the contrast is clear: Yehuda's altruism versus Reuven's self-interest. In each case of crisis, Reuven sacrifices others in order to clear his own name, while Yehuda focuses on actually aiding those in danger. Even if Reuven secretly plans on saving Yosef from the pit ("but lay no hand upon him") we suspect him of doing it for his own glory ("that he might deliver him out of their hand, to restore him to his father").

It's possible, however, to see something deeper than simple self-absorption. It's possible to see a motivating force that touches upon one of Sefer Breishit's most prominent themes.

Names in Tanach often communicate important messages about their owner, to the point that it is often difficult to distinguish between actual name and descriptive moniker. (See Rashi on Malachi 1:1) Reuven is a case in point:

לב וַתַּהַר לֵאָה וַתֵּלֶד בֵּן, וַתִּקְרָא שְׁמוֹ רְאוּבֵן: כִּי אָמְרָה, כִּי-רָאָה יְהוָה בְּעָנְיִי--כִּי עַתָּה, יֶאֱהָבַנִי אִישִׁי.

32 And Leah conceived, and bore a son, and she called his name Reuben; for she said: 'Because the LORD hath looked upon my affliction; for now my husband will love me.'

From his very conception, Reuven is constructed as a tool to win for Leah Yaakov's love and preference. In many ways, Reuven’s life shadows this burning desire. In fact, within this very birth narrative, we get our first glimpse of Reuven:

יד וַיֵּלֶךְ רְאוּבֵן בִּימֵי קְצִיר-חִטִּים, וַיִּמְצָא דוּדָאִים בַּשָּׂדֶה, וַיָּבֵא אֹתָם, אֶל-לֵאָה אִמּוֹ; וַתֹּאמֶר רָחֵל, אֶל-לֵאָה, תְּנִי-נָא לִי, מִדּוּדָאֵי בְּנֵךְ. טז וַיָּבֹא יַעֲקֹב מִן-הַשָּׂדֶה, בָּעֶרֶב, וַתֵּצֵא לֵאָה לִקְרָאתוֹ וַתֹּאמֶר אֵלַי תָּבוֹא, כִּי שָׂכֹר שְׂכַרְתִּיךָ בְּדוּדָאֵי בְּנִי; וַיִּשְׁכַּב עִמָּהּ, בַּלַּיְלָה הוּא.

14 And Reuben went in the days of wheat harvest, and found mandrakes in the field, and brought them unto his mother Leah. Then Rachel said to Leah: 'Give me, I pray thee, of thy son's mandrakes.'
16 And Jacob came from the field in the evening, and Leah went out to meet him, and said: 'Thou must come in unto me; for I have surely hired thee with my son's mandrakes.' And he lay with her that night.

Reuven's help allows Leah to get ‘one up’ on Rachel. Leah trades the mandrakes for Rachel’s time with Yaacov. It's important to note that this represents more than just Leah’s wish to conceive, but a symbolic attempt to usurp Rachel’s place by Yaacov’s side. Through Reuven's handiwork, using “Reuven's mandrakes” (15,16), she acquires Yaakov's time and seed from Rachel.

Even after Rachel's death, Reuven's participation in the rivalry continues- in fact, with Yaakov's old favorite lost forever, Reuven's advocacy reaches its peak. Reuben’s licentious act with Bilhah occurs immediately after Rachel's passing, within the very same Parsha (paragraph):

כ וַיַּצֵּב יַעֲקֹב מַצֵּבָה, עַל-קְבֻרָתָהּ--הִוא מַצֶּבֶת קְבֻרַת-רָחֵל, עַד-הַיּוֹם.
כא וַיִּסַּע, יִשְׂרָאֵל; וַיֵּט אָהֳלֹה, מֵהָלְאָה לְמִגְדַּל-עֵדֶר.
כב וַיְהִי, בִּשְׁכֹּן יִשְׂרָאֵל בָּאָרֶץ הַהִוא, וַיֵּלֶךְ רְאוּבֵן וַיִּשְׁכַּב אֶת-בִּלְהָה פִּילֶגֶשׁ אָבִיו, וַיִּשְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל

20 And Jacob set up a pillar upon her grave; the same is the pillar of Rachel's grave unto this day.
21 And Israel journeyed, and spread his tent beyond Migdal-eder.
22 And it came to pass, while Israel dwelt in that land, that Reuben went and lay with Bilhah his father's concubine; and Israel heard of it.

The proximity of the two stories can not be ignored. With Rachel out of the way, Bilha is the only threat standing between Leah and Yaakov. Reuben’s disreputable actions with her insure that Bilha will never be Yaakov's preferred mate.

What comes out is a Reuven completely rooted in the mindset of Bechira (selection). From his point of view, the pattern of a selected and rejected son still applies. Looking back at Yitzkhak-Yishmael and Esav-Yaakov there is no reason to assume that the patter of sons battling for succession is over. One son – or group of sons – shall continue Yaakov's line, while the others will fall into perpetual other-dom. Reuven follows a consistent pattern: trying to win selection for Leah and himself:

1. He attempts a secret, heroic rescue of Yosef to gain favor in his father's eyes.
2.He attempts to shift blame for Mekhirat Yosef onto the other brothers.
3.In trying to persuade Yaakov to intrust him with Binyamin's safety, he offers the best possible collateral: the death of his two sons will leave Reuven childless and physically incapable of continuing Yaakov's heritage. Someone else will be selected.

Vayeshev

2007-11-28T23:04:00.000-08:00

When mapping out the Yosef story, clothing is Chumash’s language of choice. Yosef exchanges attire no less than six times and each example marks a new stage in his development.

To understand the significance of Yosef’s garb, we have to comprehend how Sefer Breishit employs clothing. We have four explicit examples: Adam and Hava conceal their nakedness (3:21), Rivka covers her face from her fiance(24:65), Yaakov hides his identity in Esau’s dress (27:15), and Tamar shrouds herself in the clothes of a harlot (38:14). In all four cases, clothing is a means of concealing. Be it flesh or identity, clothing serves primarily to restrain something troubling which lies within.

Yosef breaks the mold. The Ketonet Pasim, or "many colored coat," can be summarized in one word: loud. It’s a vivid symbol of pride, a constant expression of Yosef’s preferred status. Understandably, this offends the brothers, and their response strikes right on target: Yosef the body survives their attack, while Yosef the garment – the narcissistic and intolerable personality traits - lies torn, bloodied, . . . assassinated.

Does Yosef take the message to heart? He regains preferential treatment, this time in the house of Potiphar, which accords him both honor and privilege. For a man of entitlement and self-absorption, Eishet Potiphar sets a perfect trap. Faced with a choice between exercising his power – “Do I not deserve her?” – and the will of a moral God, Yosef conquers his ego and refuses her.

ח וַיְמָאֵן--וַיֹּאמֶר אֶל-אֵשֶׁת אֲדֹנָיו, הֵן אֲדֹנִי לֹא-יָדַע אִתִּי מַה-בַּבָּיִת; וְכֹל אֲשֶׁר-יֶשׁ-לוֹ, נָתַן בְּיָדִי.	8 But he refused, and said unto his master's wife: 'Behold, my master, having me, knows not what is in the house, and he has put all that he has into my hand;
ט אֵינֶנּוּ גָדוֹל בַּבַּיִת הַזֶּה, מִמֶּנִּי, וְלֹא-חָשַׂךְ מִמֶּנִּי מְאוּמָה, כִּי אִם-אוֹתָךְ בַּאֲשֶׁר אַתְּ-אִשְׁתּוֹ; וְאֵיךְ אֶעֱשֶׂה הָרָעָה הַגְּדֹלָה, הַזֹּאת, וְחָטָאתִי, לֵאלֹהִים.	9 he is not greater in this house than I; neither has he kept back any thing from me but you, because you are his wife. How then can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?'

In portraying Eishet Potiphar's futile attempt, the Torah sets up a truly fantastic parallel:

יב וַתִּתְפְּשֵׂהוּ בְּבִגְדוֹ לֵאמֹר, שִׁכְבָה עִמִּי; וַיַּעֲזֹב בִּגְדוֹ בְּיָדָהּ, וַיָּנָס וַיֵּצֵא הַחוּצָה.

12 that she caught him by his garment, saying: 'Lie with me.' And he left his garment in her hand, and fled, and got him out.

Just as the brother's tear away Yosef's cloak, Potiphar's wife rips off his clothes. Whereas the first gash signaled the beginning of Yosef's great fall, the second ushers in a noble return.

After twelve years of incarceration, he changes out of his prison clothes (41:14) and presents himself to Pharoah. Once more, Yosef wins preferential treatment, this time in the eyes of Pharoah himself.

מב וַיָּסַר פַּרְעֹה אֶת-טַבַּעְתּוֹ מֵעַל יָדוֹ, וַיִּתֵּן אֹתָהּ עַל-יַד יוֹסֵף; וַיַּלְבֵּשׁ אֹתוֹ בִּגְדֵי-שֵׁשׁ, וַיָּשֶׂם רְבִד הַזָּהָב עַל-צַוָּארוֹ.

42 And Pharaoh took off his signet ring from his hand, and put it upon Joseph's hand, and arrayed him in clothes of fine linen, and put a gold chain about his neck.

Yosef's most challenging moment soon follows. Yet again, Yosef stands before his brothers in exceptional clothes and a position of power. The very siblings who destroyed his colored coat appear before a Yosef re-dressed. This time, however, Yosef does not flaunt his garments or the status they represent; he reverts to classic Breishit model, concealing his identity with his clothing (see 42:7). Indeed, he moves past that precedent. In the ultimate act of Tshuva, he provides the brothers with a highly symbolic reconciliation gift:

כב לְכֻלָּם נָתַן לָאִישׁ, חֲלִפוֹת שְׂמָלֹת.

22 To all of them he gave each man changes of raiment

Ultimately, Yosef uses his power not to set himself apart, but to weave each member of Bnei Yisrael their own Kitonet Pasim.

QuickNotes for the Shabbos Table

-Clothing is a major theme in the Yosef stories
-A change of clothing consistently means a gain in status, losing his clothing means a step down
-The Ketonet Pasim symbolizes his early flaws; the brothers tear and reject that part of him.
-Chumash contrasts the brother’s removal of his clothing with Eishet Potiphar’s tearing of his cloak: this time he makes the right set of choices
-When his brothers appear in Egypt, it's a Ketonet Pasim story all over again: this time instead oflaunting his power, he conceals himelf.
-In fact he learns to use his status for good, when he provides his brothers with their own sets of fine garments.
-Potential Message: How to deal with the special talents and abilities each of us have. Are they for our own self-aggrandizement, or should we realize the added responsibilities they confer on us? Should we use them to set ourselves apart, or to raise everyone up with us? Note the fine line between tzaddik and rasha: both have the exact same skills, its just a question of how we use them.

The FIVE COMMANDMENTS of the Dvar Torah

2007-11-28T22:20:00.000-08:00

1. I am your G-d. Do not belittle Me or My Torah with poor Divrei Torah.
The foundation of foundations. We must fight against the prevailing apathetic, uncaring attitude towards the public delivery of G-d's word. We can expect better- and that realization is the most important step.

2. Let there be no G-d besides me. G-d has plenty to say about life- let's hear His views, not yours.
Don't pick a "religious message" that you happen to have been inculcated with and use a Rashi somewhere as a platform for your spouting. If you want to make a value statement, communicate how it appears in the Sea of Torah. Of course, you don't need to "prove" your viewpoint, but you must show that it is a legitimate possibility, not just a common assumption.

This holds true for all Jews. If a popular sefer or famous Acharon breaks this rule, their authority saves not them nor you. Your Rosh Yeshiva isn't a Torah source in and of himself.

3. Do not raise My Name in vain. Blanket statements that invoke the authority of Hashem or "The Way of Torah" are close-minded and usually false.
Axiological statements like "Hashem wants us to" or "Judaism says that" ignore the variant cultures and differences of thought that typify the Jewish religion, both today and over our long, fluctuating history. As much as you should present what you feel as truth, don't mark it with the Absolute Stamp of Klal Yisrael, Yiddishkeit, God, and Torah. What if you're wrong?

A great way to thwart this problem is to use phrases like "I think that," "the text is telling us, " “from this angle it is clear” or any other phrase that doesn't include Presumptuous Words.

4. Remember your sources. Two halakhot: name your mekorot and make sure to differentiate between the various layers within them.
Where is that pasuk? In which masekhta does the gemara appear? For extra points, where can I find that midrash? Please: never ever quote a gadol story and preface it with "I don't remember exactly who it was, some huge gadol." Never ever state that "its written that . . ." or "we all know that. . . " and NEVER EVER EVER: make a mish-mash jumble of varying sources- humash, mforshim, midrashim, gemorot, hassidut- without clearly identifying the various levels of interpretation that you are referencing. Tanach and, say, Ramban represent two very distinct works written at two very distinct times. Regardless of the deep respect we grant his interpretation, it shall forever remain an interpretation, never to be confused with Tanach itself.

5. Honor your parents. Say it in less than three minutes or don't say it at all. If you've prepared something longer, and you sincerely feel it's worthwhile in content and acceptable in context, Kol HaKavod!, but practice it in your head a few times, or even better, with a friend.

A Bissul Torah Shouldn't be Bittul Torah.