PARSHAT VAYCHI
The end of Bereishit is so anti-climactic.
Take a quick glance at the end of each other "Book of Moses," and a typical reader is very satisfied.
Shmot (40:38): A cloud rests on the Mishkan (signifying God’s presence), and a fire guards the Jewish people at night through all of their travels. In the context of the completion of the Mishkan and the continuation of the travels in the desert, this verse makes perfect sense.
Vayikra (27:34): These are the mitzvot which God commanded Moses to tell the Israelites at Mt. Sinai: a perfect summary verse of the contents of a book primarily focused on laws.
Bamidbar (36:13): These are the commandments and statutes that God commanded the Israelites through Moshe, in the plains of Moab, near the Jordan, across from Jericho. This verse also summarizes what the book is about, including the narrative and laws which bring the Israelites to the point of being a little over two months away from entering the land of Canaan/Israel.
Devarim (34:12): This verse is part of a longer statement summarizing the greatness of Moshe, and the wonderments he presided over in the process of taking the Jews from Egypt to the Jordan River. It is a perfect ending to the Torah which is named for its master teacher, Moshe.
Comes Bereishit 50:26 which tells us Yosef died at age 110, was embalmed and placed in a coffin in Egypt.
Where is the tribute to the forefathers? Where is the anticipation of the coming years? The last eight verses of the Torah portion are all about Yosef! If anything, 50:24 would have been a more suitable ending – Yosef promises his brothers there will be a redemption and God will take the Jews out just as he promised to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov!
To strengthen the question, the very beginning of the book of Shmot reviews the fact of Yosef’s death (1:6), and could just as easily have mentioned that his remains were placed in a coffin in Egypt. That fact, put at the beginning of the book, instead of at the end of Bereishit, might even be a better reminder, so to speak, of the need to take Yosef’s remains with them for burial in Canaan. (Obviously, the Torah had not yet been given, but the homiletic idea of more commonly looking at the beginning of a book than the end is meant as an illustration of how things seem out of place.)
The commentaries point out a few singularities in the verse.
Firstly, it does not say he was buried.
Secondly, it does not say where the box was placed.
One common approach is that Yosef’s remains were placed in the Nile so the waters would be blessed on his behalf. (See Rabbeinu Bachya) (Baal Haturim observes that “Nilus” נילוס and “Yosef” יוסף have the same gematria (numerical value), 156.)
Another approach maintains Yosef was not buried, so it would be easy to identify and take his remains when it was time for the Jews to leave (see 13:19) (see Chizkuni and Seforno)
While the commentaries debate the nature of the coffin’s material and what its purpose was (to protect from water or other elements), perhaps the second approach, that Yosef was not buried, is what gives us the climactic moment we seek.
Consider: if Yosef is buried and hidden away, what is the point of his promise? The chances are he will be forgotten. The midrash is replete (and see Rabbeinu Bachya for more) on how Moshe had to seek to find, in order to fulfill the forgotten promise to remove Yosef’s remains from Egypt.
Some argue the Egyptians placed Yosef in the river so his descendants would not find him. But what is stopping us from suggesting the brothers made, in line with Egyptian custom, a monument or a crypt in which Yosef’s remains stand, unburied, as a reminder of his promise to the Jewish people?
For a people who are about to fall into the depravity of Egypt, a culture from which the rabbis teach us they were only saved because they kept small parts of their heritage, such as their names, language, certain secrets, and were not gossipers nor steeped in Egyptian immorality, Yosef’s remains might stand as a mainstay, as a reminder of what it means to live in Egypt as a Jew. Yosef did it by himself, with no familial support, for 22 years.
As the Jews eventually become idolaters, steeped in many Egyptian (im)morals, Yosef’s remains would be the ultimate reminder of what it means to be a wanderer who is not home, a stranger who has a better future in a different land.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Making Up Stories
Parshat Vayechi
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Many years ago I saw a movie called “Glengarry Glen Ross” which is based on a play by David Mamet. Mamet is known for his roller coaster dialogue and fantastical plot turns, and this movie, about a veteran salesman trying to sell real estate, is loaded with both. It was my custom to read the reviews of Roger Ebert after watching a movie — his commentary always had a keen insight, and helped me get a deeper appreciation for the film. Sometimes we both liked it, sometimes we both hated it, and sometimes we would disagree.
In that movie, one of his observations about Jack Lemmon’s performance in the film was quite memorable.
This is the final story of Yosef and his brothers. Since identifying himself as their long lost brother, Yosef has been only gracious, has shown only love, has expressed only the desire for his brothers to not feel guilt for having him sold, for had Yosef not been in Egypt to interpret Paroh’s dreams, perhaps they’d have all died in the famine. And now they’ll all be taken care of for the rest of Yosef’s days, if not the rest of their days as well.
And yet after their father dies, the brothers present a tale to Yosef about a conversation that purportedly took place before the recent death in the family (50:16-17). Every indication in the Torah suggests they fabricated the “conversation with their father.” Rashi says so plainly in 50:16. To partially quote Ebert, “they knew it, we know it, and perhaps even Yosef knew it.”
To be sure, some commentaries suggest Yaakov did actually say what they claim he said (Taz quotes Ramban elsewhere as saying such, and even initially suggests it himself), even though most commentators think they made it up.
The Netziv wonders how Yosef could have missed such a deathbed command, particularly when one considers where Yosef spent the last few days of his father’s life, at his bedside. Netziv concludes that there were hints in the blessings Yaakov gave which showed the command, but Yosef did not catch them the way his brothers did.
Regardless of which way one understands, neither side knew or presented the complete picture, because, as some commentaries point out, until his dying day Yaakov never knew how Yosef ended up in Egypt, nor of the role the brothers played in getting him there. If this is the case, the likelihood of his commanding Yosef not to enact revenge is increasingly minute.
I raise all this out of a particular concern I have which plagues the Internet world in general, and specifically a certain Internet population who ought to behave differently than they do.
Two top stories in the Jewish Star, including this week’s lead story, which was first posted online late last week, were subsequently picked up by the popular Jewish news aggregate website, vosizneias.com. Having personally had the experience of some of my writings for this paper being posted there, I know full well the editor posts news items and articles he finds to be of interest, hoping to share his intrigue with his readership.
I commend his efforts.
But the readers who choose to anonymously utilize the comments section — while they should by all rights be ignored for not putting their names to their opinions — cause a bigger chilul Hashem (desecration of God’s name) than any news item or editorial that they so designate. Three-quarters of the time the negative responses clearly stem from having read only the headline, and the other negative responses raise holier-than-thou arguments with statistics and “facts” apparently fabricated out of thin air.
Do we, in the Jewish community, have our differences? Absolutely. Does the muckraking of individuals who, with the click of a few keys, aim to destroy Yeshiva University, the memory of Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Modern Orthodox Jews, Jews who struggle with tremendous challenges, and anyone who wishes to support any or all of those listed, fit in line with Jewish thought and halakha? Absolutely not.
While we can not be sure if Yosef’s brothers made up their story, many of the commenters on VIN are definitely guilty of making things up about all parties in question.
Rechilus (slander) is still Rechilus, and should not be tolerated under any circumstances.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Many years ago I saw a movie called “Glengarry Glen Ross” which is based on a play by David Mamet. Mamet is known for his roller coaster dialogue and fantastical plot turns, and this movie, about a veteran salesman trying to sell real estate, is loaded with both. It was my custom to read the reviews of Roger Ebert after watching a movie — his commentary always had a keen insight, and helped me get a deeper appreciation for the film. Sometimes we both liked it, sometimes we both hated it, and sometimes we would disagree.
In that movie, one of his observations about Jack Lemmon’s performance in the film was quite memorable.
“Look at Shelley (the Machine) Levene (Lemmon’s character)... he was once a hotshot salesman... Now he is making no sales at all... and it’s heartbreaking to hear his lies, about how he would feel wrong, not sharing this ‘marvelous opportunity.’
Lemmon has a scene in this movie that represents the best work he has ever done. He makes a house call on a man who does not want to buy real estate. The man knows it, we know it, Lemmon knows it — but Lemmon keeps trying, not registering the man’s growing impatience to have him out of his house.”
This is the final story of Yosef and his brothers. Since identifying himself as their long lost brother, Yosef has been only gracious, has shown only love, has expressed only the desire for his brothers to not feel guilt for having him sold, for had Yosef not been in Egypt to interpret Paroh’s dreams, perhaps they’d have all died in the famine. And now they’ll all be taken care of for the rest of Yosef’s days, if not the rest of their days as well.
And yet after their father dies, the brothers present a tale to Yosef about a conversation that purportedly took place before the recent death in the family (50:16-17). Every indication in the Torah suggests they fabricated the “conversation with their father.” Rashi says so plainly in 50:16. To partially quote Ebert, “they knew it, we know it, and perhaps even Yosef knew it.”
To be sure, some commentaries suggest Yaakov did actually say what they claim he said (Taz quotes Ramban elsewhere as saying such, and even initially suggests it himself), even though most commentators think they made it up.
The Netziv wonders how Yosef could have missed such a deathbed command, particularly when one considers where Yosef spent the last few days of his father’s life, at his bedside. Netziv concludes that there were hints in the blessings Yaakov gave which showed the command, but Yosef did not catch them the way his brothers did.
Regardless of which way one understands, neither side knew or presented the complete picture, because, as some commentaries point out, until his dying day Yaakov never knew how Yosef ended up in Egypt, nor of the role the brothers played in getting him there. If this is the case, the likelihood of his commanding Yosef not to enact revenge is increasingly minute.
I raise all this out of a particular concern I have which plagues the Internet world in general, and specifically a certain Internet population who ought to behave differently than they do.
Two top stories in the Jewish Star, including this week’s lead story, which was first posted online late last week, were subsequently picked up by the popular Jewish news aggregate website, vosizneias.com. Having personally had the experience of some of my writings for this paper being posted there, I know full well the editor posts news items and articles he finds to be of interest, hoping to share his intrigue with his readership.
I commend his efforts.
But the readers who choose to anonymously utilize the comments section — while they should by all rights be ignored for not putting their names to their opinions — cause a bigger chilul Hashem (desecration of God’s name) than any news item or editorial that they so designate. Three-quarters of the time the negative responses clearly stem from having read only the headline, and the other negative responses raise holier-than-thou arguments with statistics and “facts” apparently fabricated out of thin air.
Do we, in the Jewish community, have our differences? Absolutely. Does the muckraking of individuals who, with the click of a few keys, aim to destroy Yeshiva University, the memory of Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Modern Orthodox Jews, Jews who struggle with tremendous challenges, and anyone who wishes to support any or all of those listed, fit in line with Jewish thought and halakha? Absolutely not.
While we can not be sure if Yosef’s brothers made up their story, many of the commenters on VIN are definitely guilty of making things up about all parties in question.
Rechilus (slander) is still Rechilus, and should not be tolerated under any circumstances.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Shabbos in Boynton Beach during vacation weekend - "A+"
What a beautiful Shabbos!
My wife and I took our kids (well, we can't just leave them) to Boynton Beach for Shabbos - what an enjoyable weekend! I blogged about why we enjoy Shabbos there once before, so we need not repeat.
But - man! Now that we are in the dead of winter here in Florida (not that we would know because it's in the 80s during the day and 60s at night), people are starting to come down to visit. Frequently. And with their families.
This Shabbos, the shul which had thirty people in attendance (men and women altogether) on Rosh Hashana, had approximately 75 adults and 30 kids! To make the point of the influx of numbers in attendance, the gala kiddush - which was indeed gala - was so good, there was no food leftover. And no one walked away hungry either. (Though I am sure everyone went home to enjoy lunch). My 4 year old son asked me, "Abba, was there any cake?" No - not a single birthday. Thank God for lollypops!
Speeches
I spoke 5 times: Friday night, pre-davening parsha class, Morning Sermon, pre-Mincha afternoon class, and at Seudah Shlishiss.
Friday night
Two approaches to what happened when Yehuda approached Yosef:
1. Went close to speak with him softly - as Koheles says "The words of the righteous are heard when spoken gently." Yehuda wanted to make sure Yosef would hear him out. If they would resort to a shouting match, nothing would get accomplished.
2. The Kotsker rebbe says, "Vayigash Eilav Yehuda" means "Yehuda approached himself." Before a person presents himself to royalty or any figure in a powerful position, it is important to be true to yourself, to know who you are and what you want out of your next human encounter. Yehuda needed to come close to his own true identity to be able to approach Yosef.
Sermon
The gyst of the sermon boiled down to two points:
1. The reaction of Yosef''s brothers to his revealing his identity is one of pure stupefication. They have nothing to say. The Talmud (Chagiga 4b) says Rabbi Elazar would cry when he read this verse because of the scary nature of its consequences. Imagine how embarrassed Yosef's brothers were, when he, a brother, reminded them of their evil deed of selling him. That embarrassed feeling is what it is like - though much worse - when God "calls us" on our inconsistent behavior.
2. To improve our overall relationship with God through prayer, we ought to follow Yosef's lead when he cleared out the room to address his brothers. Yosef wanted to achieve a unique spiritual connection with his brothers, and anything which would stand in the way or distract him needed to leave the room. The Slonimer rebbe says this is how a person must pray.
Think of what it means to take out all people from our presence, all distractions - and now we are more ready to pray to God.
The Parsha Drama Experience
(Parsha Drama is a dramatic presentation of the Torah reading, aimed at children of all ages)
I heard I heard... Someone (we won't mention who) got a little excited when playing Yaakov finding out that Yosef is still alive. And the whole shul heard it in the middle of the announcements. We'll try to tone it down next time. No promises.
Feedback
The entire effort is worth every minute because people give the most genuine and appreciated feedback on the Torah and thoughts I prepare and share.
And the compliments we've gotten about our kids (so cute! you have a beautiful family! "kein yirbu!" etc etc) make my wife and I want to come back for more.
Overall
What a genuine and friendly place. We are glad to be having this experience this year. It is tremendously rewarding to prepare classes and sermons. I enjoy the work, and the payoff (what can I do? - as an actor I enjoy a good performance, especially when audience members tell you how much they enjoy), and look forward to our next visits - still during the January break times when we will continue to enjoy larger crowds - which only enhance the davening - and the warmth of the community that is Anshei Chesed of Boynton Beach.
Important Final Thought
This past Thursday was the first yahrzeit of David Bilowit, ע"ה. The president, Adam Rosen, gave a warm and heartfelt tribute to his memory, not only on account of his special status as a founding member of Anshei Chesed, but as the most senior member of Anshei Chesed. Rabbi Kossowsky also spoke warmly to David's wife, expressing the need to celebrate his life and all that he meant to everybody, even as we are saddened at his no longer being with us.
It was a fitting and heartwarming tribute to a man who meant a lot to the shul.
My wife and I took our kids (well, we can't just leave them) to Boynton Beach for Shabbos - what an enjoyable weekend! I blogged about why we enjoy Shabbos there once before, so we need not repeat.
But - man! Now that we are in the dead of winter here in Florida (not that we would know because it's in the 80s during the day and 60s at night), people are starting to come down to visit. Frequently. And with their families.
This Shabbos, the shul which had thirty people in attendance (men and women altogether) on Rosh Hashana, had approximately 75 adults and 30 kids! To make the point of the influx of numbers in attendance, the gala kiddush - which was indeed gala - was so good, there was no food leftover. And no one walked away hungry either. (Though I am sure everyone went home to enjoy lunch). My 4 year old son asked me, "Abba, was there any cake?" No - not a single birthday. Thank God for lollypops!
Speeches
I spoke 5 times: Friday night, pre-davening parsha class, Morning Sermon, pre-Mincha afternoon class, and at Seudah Shlishiss.
Friday night
Two approaches to what happened when Yehuda approached Yosef:
1. Went close to speak with him softly - as Koheles says "The words of the righteous are heard when spoken gently." Yehuda wanted to make sure Yosef would hear him out. If they would resort to a shouting match, nothing would get accomplished.
2. The Kotsker rebbe says, "Vayigash Eilav Yehuda" means "Yehuda approached himself." Before a person presents himself to royalty or any figure in a powerful position, it is important to be true to yourself, to know who you are and what you want out of your next human encounter. Yehuda needed to come close to his own true identity to be able to approach Yosef.
Sermon
The gyst of the sermon boiled down to two points:
1. The reaction of Yosef''s brothers to his revealing his identity is one of pure stupefication. They have nothing to say. The Talmud (Chagiga 4b) says Rabbi Elazar would cry when he read this verse because of the scary nature of its consequences. Imagine how embarrassed Yosef's brothers were, when he, a brother, reminded them of their evil deed of selling him. That embarrassed feeling is what it is like - though much worse - when God "calls us" on our inconsistent behavior.
2. To improve our overall relationship with God through prayer, we ought to follow Yosef's lead when he cleared out the room to address his brothers. Yosef wanted to achieve a unique spiritual connection with his brothers, and anything which would stand in the way or distract him needed to leave the room. The Slonimer rebbe says this is how a person must pray.
Think of what it means to take out all people from our presence, all distractions - and now we are more ready to pray to God.
The Parsha Drama Experience
(Parsha Drama is a dramatic presentation of the Torah reading, aimed at children of all ages)
I heard I heard... Someone (we won't mention who) got a little excited when playing Yaakov finding out that Yosef is still alive. And the whole shul heard it in the middle of the announcements. We'll try to tone it down next time. No promises.
Feedback
The entire effort is worth every minute because people give the most genuine and appreciated feedback on the Torah and thoughts I prepare and share.
And the compliments we've gotten about our kids (so cute! you have a beautiful family! "kein yirbu!" etc etc) make my wife and I want to come back for more.
Overall
What a genuine and friendly place. We are glad to be having this experience this year. It is tremendously rewarding to prepare classes and sermons. I enjoy the work, and the payoff (what can I do? - as an actor I enjoy a good performance, especially when audience members tell you how much they enjoy), and look forward to our next visits - still during the January break times when we will continue to enjoy larger crowds - which only enhance the davening - and the warmth of the community that is Anshei Chesed of Boynton Beach.
Important Final Thought
This past Thursday was the first yahrzeit of David Bilowit, ע"ה. The president, Adam Rosen, gave a warm and heartfelt tribute to his memory, not only on account of his special status as a founding member of Anshei Chesed, but as the most senior member of Anshei Chesed. Rabbi Kossowsky also spoke warmly to David's wife, expressing the need to celebrate his life and all that he meant to everybody, even as we are saddened at his no longer being with us.
It was a fitting and heartwarming tribute to a man who meant a lot to the shul.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Vayigash - Back Where We Started?
Parshat Vayigash: First history lesson
By Rabbi Avi Billet
One can assume Paroh was referring to the availability of Egyptian products, Egyptian agriculture (which dried up during the famine), Egyptian culture, Egyptian technology and innovation. Was Paroh indicating this promise would remain in effect for the duration of the famine? For the remainder of Yosef’s life? For the remainder of Paroh’s life? Until such time as the family would want to leave? Indefinitely?
Netziv points out that sometimes, Biblical characters say things with a certain intention, while their words end up having a different meaning. For example, in 37:20, the brothers said, “Let’s kill him, and then we’ll see what become of his dreams.” While they were being cynical, their words “We will see what become of his dreams,” became prophetic.
Here too, says Netziv, Paroh was unaware that his words “the good of the land of Egypt will be available to you,” was a pre-ordained prophesy: Avraham had been promised that his children would be strangers in a strange land, and G-d meant for “all of the good of Egypt to be available to them” so their stay — even while enslaved — would never lack the amenities of Egypt.
Nonetheless, it is quite clear that the family does not take Paroh up on his offer. As they leave Canaan, G-d tells Yaakov (46:2-4), “Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for you will become a great nation there. I will take you down, and I will also bring you back up from there.” The next two verses tell us that in addition to their entire families, they bring all their cattle and property. This is confirmed again at the end of the chapter (46:32) — “they brought with them their sheep, cattle and all they had.”
When leaving home, they have no idea how long they will stay in Egypt. As was the case in every exile, for better or for worse, the Jews got comfortable in their new environment. They enjoyed everything Egypt had to offer them — the open space, the endless supply of food and water, the culture. While different rabbinic sources indicate they were ultimately redeemed from Egypt because they maintained their names, language and secrets, and guarded themselves from speaking lashon hara and protected their wives from sins of a sexual nature, it would seem, they were otherwise completely assimilated into Egyptian society — idolaters and all!
In essence, the descent to Egypt was the ultimate paradox. On the one hand, since you don’t trust the host nation’s promise to completely provide for you, you bring your own possessions and supplies. On the other hand, because you so appreciate the hospitality, you assimilate almost completely into the culture, only maintaining a minimal smidgen of your old identity — enough to indicate you’re “different” within your own circles and in the general culture, but other nationalities would not be able to distinguish between you and your host nation.
We live in the greatest nation the world has ever seen. The principles of freedom upon which this country was founded — most notably separation of church and state — gave us the chance to thrive in a way that throughout history has ultimately led to persecution or expulsion from other lands.
In a world of parable, however, the Jewish people are experiencing Egypt all over again. Not in a sense of slavery, but in the sense that even those things that helped us maintain our identity in Egypt — names, language, clothing, and separation from lashon hara and immorality — are being blurred.
In many hearts and minds, intermarriage is no longer “rebellion”; it is a fact of life. Lack of Hebrew literacy and Jewish knowledge is no longer “because it’s not for me”; it is not even on the radar screen. With the exception of small communities, we all dress the same. One can argue it is not even worth opening a lament about lashon hara and immorality, because it will never end.
History has a lot to teach us, and as is often the case, history does indeed repeat itself.
When it is time for the ultimate redemption, will G-d recognize us at all?
As soon as Paroh learns of the arrival of Yosef’s family, he invites them to return to Canaan merely to bring their father and families, in order to settle more permanently in Egypt.
“Do not even concern yourselves with your vessels/belongings, for the good of the land of Egypt will be available to you.” (45:20)
One can assume Paroh was referring to the availability of Egyptian products, Egyptian agriculture (which dried up during the famine), Egyptian culture, Egyptian technology and innovation. Was Paroh indicating this promise would remain in effect for the duration of the famine? For the remainder of Yosef’s life? For the remainder of Paroh’s life? Until such time as the family would want to leave? Indefinitely?
Netziv points out that sometimes, Biblical characters say things with a certain intention, while their words end up having a different meaning. For example, in 37:20, the brothers said, “Let’s kill him, and then we’ll see what become of his dreams.” While they were being cynical, their words “We will see what become of his dreams,” became prophetic.
Here too, says Netziv, Paroh was unaware that his words “the good of the land of Egypt will be available to you,” was a pre-ordained prophesy: Avraham had been promised that his children would be strangers in a strange land, and G-d meant for “all of the good of Egypt to be available to them” so their stay — even while enslaved — would never lack the amenities of Egypt.
Nonetheless, it is quite clear that the family does not take Paroh up on his offer. As they leave Canaan, G-d tells Yaakov (46:2-4), “Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for you will become a great nation there. I will take you down, and I will also bring you back up from there.” The next two verses tell us that in addition to their entire families, they bring all their cattle and property. This is confirmed again at the end of the chapter (46:32) — “they brought with them their sheep, cattle and all they had.”
When leaving home, they have no idea how long they will stay in Egypt. As was the case in every exile, for better or for worse, the Jews got comfortable in their new environment. They enjoyed everything Egypt had to offer them — the open space, the endless supply of food and water, the culture. While different rabbinic sources indicate they were ultimately redeemed from Egypt because they maintained their names, language and secrets, and guarded themselves from speaking lashon hara and protected their wives from sins of a sexual nature, it would seem, they were otherwise completely assimilated into Egyptian society — idolaters and all!
In essence, the descent to Egypt was the ultimate paradox. On the one hand, since you don’t trust the host nation’s promise to completely provide for you, you bring your own possessions and supplies. On the other hand, because you so appreciate the hospitality, you assimilate almost completely into the culture, only maintaining a minimal smidgen of your old identity — enough to indicate you’re “different” within your own circles and in the general culture, but other nationalities would not be able to distinguish between you and your host nation.
We live in the greatest nation the world has ever seen. The principles of freedom upon which this country was founded — most notably separation of church and state — gave us the chance to thrive in a way that throughout history has ultimately led to persecution or expulsion from other lands.
In a world of parable, however, the Jewish people are experiencing Egypt all over again. Not in a sense of slavery, but in the sense that even those things that helped us maintain our identity in Egypt — names, language, clothing, and separation from lashon hara and immorality — are being blurred.
In many hearts and minds, intermarriage is no longer “rebellion”; it is a fact of life. Lack of Hebrew literacy and Jewish knowledge is no longer “because it’s not for me”; it is not even on the radar screen. With the exception of small communities, we all dress the same. One can argue it is not even worth opening a lament about lashon hara and immorality, because it will never end.
History has a lot to teach us, and as is often the case, history does indeed repeat itself.
When it is time for the ultimate redemption, will G-d recognize us at all?
Friday, December 18, 2009
Parshat Miketz - Soulmates
Read this in the Jewish Star or right here
Parsha: Pharaoh finds a soul mate
Parshat Miketz
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Issue of December 18, 2009/ 1 Tevet 5770
On the eve of his birthday the Egyptian monarch has two dreams that vex and try his sanity. “In the morning he was very upset. He sent word, summoning all the symbolists and wise men of Egypt. Paroh told them his dreams, but there was no one who could provide a satisfactory interpretation.” (41:8) (Shadal notes that his dreams take place exactly two years after his birthday party of 40:20.)
Rashi quotes the Midrash that his interpreters gave all sorts of interpretations surrounding the number seven, but none was satisfactory to him.
If Paroh employed so many interpreters, and if their magical powers were uninspiring to Paroh, what made Yosef’s interpretation so acceptable? Why would his attempt make Paroh flip the table so drastically so as to turn a slave into the second in command of all Egypt?
Imagine someone in the mailroom coming up with a single good idea, only to be named CEO within five minutes. In most cases, even if the boss appreciates the contribution, the most the employee could reasonably expect is a nice bonus. Maybe he’ll get a promotion. But the owner of the company is not likely to place the inexperienced mail sorter in the top rank of the company!
Nechama Leibowitz quotes a Midrash in which Paroh says, “Just as I saw the dream, so I saw its interpretation.” Similarly, Sekhel Tov records, “He was immediately reminded of the interpretation of the dream, that this was as Joseph had interpreted. He had forgotten it, but now remembered.”
In other words, Paroh was intuitively aware of the correct interpretation to his dreams. He merely needed to hear it presented to him the way he knew it to be true, in order for his take on the situation to be confirmed.
In this light, perhaps when Yosef came along and presented the truth to Paroh, he was no longer a slave-prisoner, parallel to the mailroom sorter of our parable (no, I am not equating the two), but he became an extremely close confidant to Paroh.
Paroh saw in him a person with whom he had a naturally close kinship. Not only could he hear the king out and understand his innermost thoughts, but he could also provide a plan of action in line with the king’s plans and needs for ruling his country and taking care of his people.
This unique bonding of souls was particularly suited for a human monarch who, if our understanding of ancient Egyptian culture is correct, fancied himself a deity. How could a human who tries to pass himself off as a god deal with his human frailties? He can if he finds a human being who understands him, who sees him for who he is and the image he must present, yet who relates to him in a way no other human can.
Paroh said to his advisors, “Can there be another person who has G-d’s spirit in him as this man does?” Paroh said to Joseph, “Since G-d has informed you about all this, there can be no one with as much insight and wisdom as you. You shall be in charge of my government, and food will be distributed to my people by your orders. Only by the throne will I outrank you.” Paroh then formally declared to Joseph, “I am placing you in charge of the entire land of Egypt.” Paroh took his ring off his own hand and placed it on the hand of Joseph. He had him dressed in the finest linen garments, and placed a gold chain around his neck. He had [Joseph] ride in his second royal chariot, and [those going] ahead of him announced, ‘The Viceroy!’ [Joseph] was thus given authority over all Egypt. Paroh said to Joseph, “I am Paroh. Without your say, no man will lift a hand or foot in all Egypt.” (41:38-44)
We see as well, after Yosef reveals himself to his brothers, how his relationship with Paroh has developed over seven years:
“Now it is not you who sent me here, but G-d. He has made me Paroh’s vizier, director of his entire government, and dictator of all Egypt. Hurry, go back to my father, and give him the message: Your son Joseph says, ‘G-d has made me master of all Egypt.’ Come to me without delay.” (45:8-9)
Not everyone merits the privilege of such a wonderful and close relationship with another human being. Some people find it in a spouse. Some have a close friend and confidant. Some have such a relationship with one or both parents, and some have this kind of relationship with a son or daughter.
It does not have to be about finishing each other’s sentences. But it is about being completely in sync, completely understanding, and completely relating to the other person’s experience, to the point that you feel like soul brothers, soul sisters, or in the case of a spouse, soul mates, perhaps
.More important than interpreting dreams correctly is connecting with the other person, to the point that the other person feels you fill his or her life with power, strength, and encouragement to take on all of life’s challenges, and every blessed new day.
Parsha: Pharaoh finds a soul mate
Parshat Miketz
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Issue of December 18, 2009/ 1 Tevet 5770
On the eve of his birthday the Egyptian monarch has two dreams that vex and try his sanity. “In the morning he was very upset. He sent word, summoning all the symbolists and wise men of Egypt. Paroh told them his dreams, but there was no one who could provide a satisfactory interpretation.” (41:8) (Shadal notes that his dreams take place exactly two years after his birthday party of 40:20.)
Rashi quotes the Midrash that his interpreters gave all sorts of interpretations surrounding the number seven, but none was satisfactory to him.
If Paroh employed so many interpreters, and if their magical powers were uninspiring to Paroh, what made Yosef’s interpretation so acceptable? Why would his attempt make Paroh flip the table so drastically so as to turn a slave into the second in command of all Egypt?
Imagine someone in the mailroom coming up with a single good idea, only to be named CEO within five minutes. In most cases, even if the boss appreciates the contribution, the most the employee could reasonably expect is a nice bonus. Maybe he’ll get a promotion. But the owner of the company is not likely to place the inexperienced mail sorter in the top rank of the company!
Nechama Leibowitz quotes a Midrash in which Paroh says, “Just as I saw the dream, so I saw its interpretation.” Similarly, Sekhel Tov records, “He was immediately reminded of the interpretation of the dream, that this was as Joseph had interpreted. He had forgotten it, but now remembered.”
In other words, Paroh was intuitively aware of the correct interpretation to his dreams. He merely needed to hear it presented to him the way he knew it to be true, in order for his take on the situation to be confirmed.
In this light, perhaps when Yosef came along and presented the truth to Paroh, he was no longer a slave-prisoner, parallel to the mailroom sorter of our parable (no, I am not equating the two), but he became an extremely close confidant to Paroh.
Paroh saw in him a person with whom he had a naturally close kinship. Not only could he hear the king out and understand his innermost thoughts, but he could also provide a plan of action in line with the king’s plans and needs for ruling his country and taking care of his people.
This unique bonding of souls was particularly suited for a human monarch who, if our understanding of ancient Egyptian culture is correct, fancied himself a deity. How could a human who tries to pass himself off as a god deal with his human frailties? He can if he finds a human being who understands him, who sees him for who he is and the image he must present, yet who relates to him in a way no other human can.
Paroh said to his advisors, “Can there be another person who has G-d’s spirit in him as this man does?” Paroh said to Joseph, “Since G-d has informed you about all this, there can be no one with as much insight and wisdom as you. You shall be in charge of my government, and food will be distributed to my people by your orders. Only by the throne will I outrank you.” Paroh then formally declared to Joseph, “I am placing you in charge of the entire land of Egypt.” Paroh took his ring off his own hand and placed it on the hand of Joseph. He had him dressed in the finest linen garments, and placed a gold chain around his neck. He had [Joseph] ride in his second royal chariot, and [those going] ahead of him announced, ‘The Viceroy!’ [Joseph] was thus given authority over all Egypt. Paroh said to Joseph, “I am Paroh. Without your say, no man will lift a hand or foot in all Egypt.” (41:38-44)
We see as well, after Yosef reveals himself to his brothers, how his relationship with Paroh has developed over seven years:
“Now it is not you who sent me here, but G-d. He has made me Paroh’s vizier, director of his entire government, and dictator of all Egypt. Hurry, go back to my father, and give him the message: Your son Joseph says, ‘G-d has made me master of all Egypt.’ Come to me without delay.” (45:8-9)
Not everyone merits the privilege of such a wonderful and close relationship with another human being. Some people find it in a spouse. Some have a close friend and confidant. Some have such a relationship with one or both parents, and some have this kind of relationship with a son or daughter.
It does not have to be about finishing each other’s sentences. But it is about being completely in sync, completely understanding, and completely relating to the other person’s experience, to the point that you feel like soul brothers, soul sisters, or in the case of a spouse, soul mates, perhaps
.More important than interpreting dreams correctly is connecting with the other person, to the point that the other person feels you fill his or her life with power, strength, and encouragement to take on all of life’s challenges, and every blessed new day.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Searching for our brother
This week's Dvar Torah appears here in the Jewish Star
Parshat Vayeshev
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Issue of December 11, 2009/ 24 Kislev 5770
Before the infamous sale of Yosef — in which the role of Yosef’s brothers is the subject of much debate — Yosef is on a mission.
Walking around near Shechem, looking lost, Yosef encounters a “man” (the rabbis identify him as an angel) who says two words to him, “Mah T’vakesh?” — What do you want? What do you seek?
Yosef’s answer is “I am looking for my brothers.” (37:15-16)
It seems like such a trivial conversation. Q: What are you looking for? A: I heard my family was around here. Can you direct me to them?
The Kotzker rebbe said, “You need to know what you want. The man/angel was teaching Yosef that he must constantly express his goals to himself.”
To take it a step further, what should those goals be? We ought to be seeking and looking out for our brothers.
In lieu of sharing comments on this statement from the commentaries, let us give our own answers this week. What do we want? What do we seek?
I will not presume to speak for you, but here is my wishlist.
I want Jews to be left alone. I want the Jews in Israel and the rest of the world to be given a real chance to honestly live in peace with their neighbors. Let each side live and let live and pursue opportunities to make our lives better — within our communities and collectively — without bothering to make the others’ lives worse.
I just read Will Eisner’s graphic novel, “The Plot,” a telling of the never-ending saga of the proven forgery of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion. I wish anti-Semitism and those who harbor it will cease to play a role in this earth.
“I am looking [out] for my brothers.”
I wish that all those who are actively or desperately seeking to find and marry “the right person” will be successful in their search. In the right time. Sooner rather than later.
I wish that all those who are trying to build families will merit the benefits of G-d’s blessings, so their child and children can be born, and ultimately live beautiful lives having “found their brothers.”
I wish that all those who are looking to find direction in life — how to relate to G-d; how to relate to people; what profession to choose; where to live; what kind of lifestyle to lead; and how to come to peace with choices and decisions, will find all of these and more in their efforts to make their lives the best that G-d will give them.
“I am looking for my brothers.”
Let all Jews accept that we may have differences in the ways we observe, worship, and believe. Let us also agree that every Jew was born with a holy soul who yearns to come close to the Divine in some way, and that there is room for each person to find a way that works for the individual.
And that there will never be “one way” that works for everyone. And that intolerance — whether it be of the right for the left, or of the left for the right — will never be a good ingredient in promoting “Ahavat chinam.” And that our political beliefs — whether they are in politics themselves or religious politics — should remain hotbeds for debate but should not resort to personal differences, hatred and invective.
The chips on the shoulders would do us all a lot of good if they were cast away into a fireplace to warm our cold hearts which have ceased to care enough about one another.
Chanukah is a widely marked holiday in the American Jewish community. This is most likely due to the commercialization of the “holiday season,” which allows many Americans to get in touch with a religious side, no matter how secularly they may observe their respective holidays.
This is an opportunity to open new and positive relationships with our neighbors. All Jews who put a menorah in the window “come out of the closet” over this holiday. Some of us know more and some know less about the national, historical and social significance of the holiday. The laws related to the menorah are essentially the only laws of the holiday — the most important one being “publicizing the miracle.” Not everyone knows the significance of the defeat of the “many in the hands of the few.”
If we can be like Yosef, however, who, despite knowing full well that his brothers did not like him, actively sought them out, to be in their presence, to make peace, we will only benefit from the experience.
Chanukah falls in the beginning of winter, when the nights are longer and darker than they are all year. Ironically, the lights of the menorah cannot be used to light up the room — they are only to be lit for us to look at, so we might draw inspiration.
Let us all be inspired to seek out our brothers, no matter how far they (or we) may seem to be.
Parshat Vayeshev
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Issue of December 11, 2009/ 24 Kislev 5770
Before the infamous sale of Yosef — in which the role of Yosef’s brothers is the subject of much debate — Yosef is on a mission.
Walking around near Shechem, looking lost, Yosef encounters a “man” (the rabbis identify him as an angel) who says two words to him, “Mah T’vakesh?” — What do you want? What do you seek?
Yosef’s answer is “I am looking for my brothers.” (37:15-16)
It seems like such a trivial conversation. Q: What are you looking for? A: I heard my family was around here. Can you direct me to them?
The Kotzker rebbe said, “You need to know what you want. The man/angel was teaching Yosef that he must constantly express his goals to himself.”
To take it a step further, what should those goals be? We ought to be seeking and looking out for our brothers.
In lieu of sharing comments on this statement from the commentaries, let us give our own answers this week. What do we want? What do we seek?
I will not presume to speak for you, but here is my wishlist.
I want Jews to be left alone. I want the Jews in Israel and the rest of the world to be given a real chance to honestly live in peace with their neighbors. Let each side live and let live and pursue opportunities to make our lives better — within our communities and collectively — without bothering to make the others’ lives worse.
I just read Will Eisner’s graphic novel, “The Plot,” a telling of the never-ending saga of the proven forgery of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion. I wish anti-Semitism and those who harbor it will cease to play a role in this earth.
“I am looking [out] for my brothers.”
I wish that all those who are actively or desperately seeking to find and marry “the right person” will be successful in their search. In the right time. Sooner rather than later.
I wish that all those who are trying to build families will merit the benefits of G-d’s blessings, so their child and children can be born, and ultimately live beautiful lives having “found their brothers.”
I wish that all those who are looking to find direction in life — how to relate to G-d; how to relate to people; what profession to choose; where to live; what kind of lifestyle to lead; and how to come to peace with choices and decisions, will find all of these and more in their efforts to make their lives the best that G-d will give them.
“I am looking for my brothers.”
Let all Jews accept that we may have differences in the ways we observe, worship, and believe. Let us also agree that every Jew was born with a holy soul who yearns to come close to the Divine in some way, and that there is room for each person to find a way that works for the individual.
And that there will never be “one way” that works for everyone. And that intolerance — whether it be of the right for the left, or of the left for the right — will never be a good ingredient in promoting “Ahavat chinam.” And that our political beliefs — whether they are in politics themselves or religious politics — should remain hotbeds for debate but should not resort to personal differences, hatred and invective.
The chips on the shoulders would do us all a lot of good if they were cast away into a fireplace to warm our cold hearts which have ceased to care enough about one another.
Chanukah is a widely marked holiday in the American Jewish community. This is most likely due to the commercialization of the “holiday season,” which allows many Americans to get in touch with a religious side, no matter how secularly they may observe their respective holidays.
This is an opportunity to open new and positive relationships with our neighbors. All Jews who put a menorah in the window “come out of the closet” over this holiday. Some of us know more and some know less about the national, historical and social significance of the holiday. The laws related to the menorah are essentially the only laws of the holiday — the most important one being “publicizing the miracle.” Not everyone knows the significance of the defeat of the “many in the hands of the few.”
If we can be like Yosef, however, who, despite knowing full well that his brothers did not like him, actively sought them out, to be in their presence, to make peace, we will only benefit from the experience.
Chanukah falls in the beginning of winter, when the nights are longer and darker than they are all year. Ironically, the lights of the menorah cannot be used to light up the room — they are only to be lit for us to look at, so we might draw inspiration.
Let us all be inspired to seek out our brothers, no matter how far they (or we) may seem to be.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Interesting Discussion
Tuesday night I filled in for Rabbi Nightingale of Aish of Florida, at a dinner and discussion with university students. We had a really great discussion about the Jewishness of American and secular holidays - somewhat inspired by the REKA program from Thanksgiving.
One of the participants asked a question about the afterlife - and as that is not my area of expertise, I was very comfortable saying "I have no idea."
But you might find it interesting - as a thought or discussion. Comments are appreciated below.
The question was: "Let's say Mr. Jew Smith marries. After a little while, Mrs. Smith sadly passes away. Mr. Jew Smith marries again, to a new Mrs. Smith who never married before. In the afterlife, with whom does Mr. Smith spend eternity?"
One person said "No problem. According to Jewish law a man may have two wives."
Then the speaker said, "Say the same scenario about a woman who survives her first husband and then marries again."
My initial response was, as mentioned, "I have no idea."
But, in thinking about it, my next response is, "Who says that the afterlife reflects the monogamous or polygamous relationships a person might have in this world? Who says eternity means being "reunited" with ones loved ones?" We may say that our loved ones look down upon us and watch over us. It makes us feel good to believe this. But do we really know?
I said to the questioner, "I don't know, as that is in a realm that is really beyond us. Perhaps we can ask, is the male buried next to both wives? Or the woman next to both husbands? How is that decided? The one "found love" twice. Sadly, the first spouse died young."
In posing this question, I was thinking about my great aunt and uncle who lived across the street from friends of theirs for many decades. My great uncle passed away, and the woman across the street also died. The two neighbors decided to spend their later years as husband and wife. They knew each other very well already, so the dating process wasn't too drawn out.
While he has since passed away, I am sure he was buried next to his first wife. And when it is her time, I am sure my great aunt has a plot next to my great uncle. As it should be.
Anyway, as much as it may make us feel good to think we will one day have it made in the world to come, with our dream house and with our closest loved ones with us, I don't think we can rely on Richard Matheson, Ronald Bass, and Vincent Ward to paint this image for us. (Though I did enjoy the movie!)
Your thoughts?
One of the participants asked a question about the afterlife - and as that is not my area of expertise, I was very comfortable saying "I have no idea."
But you might find it interesting - as a thought or discussion. Comments are appreciated below.
The question was: "Let's say Mr. Jew Smith marries. After a little while, Mrs. Smith sadly passes away. Mr. Jew Smith marries again, to a new Mrs. Smith who never married before. In the afterlife, with whom does Mr. Smith spend eternity?"
One person said "No problem. According to Jewish law a man may have two wives."
Then the speaker said, "Say the same scenario about a woman who survives her first husband and then marries again."
My initial response was, as mentioned, "I have no idea."
But, in thinking about it, my next response is, "Who says that the afterlife reflects the monogamous or polygamous relationships a person might have in this world? Who says eternity means being "reunited" with ones loved ones?" We may say that our loved ones look down upon us and watch over us. It makes us feel good to believe this. But do we really know?
I said to the questioner, "I don't know, as that is in a realm that is really beyond us. Perhaps we can ask, is the male buried next to both wives? Or the woman next to both husbands? How is that decided? The one "found love" twice. Sadly, the first spouse died young."
In posing this question, I was thinking about my great aunt and uncle who lived across the street from friends of theirs for many decades. My great uncle passed away, and the woman across the street also died. The two neighbors decided to spend their later years as husband and wife. They knew each other very well already, so the dating process wasn't too drawn out.
While he has since passed away, I am sure he was buried next to his first wife. And when it is her time, I am sure my great aunt has a plot next to my great uncle. As it should be.
Anyway, as much as it may make us feel good to think we will one day have it made in the world to come, with our dream house and with our closest loved ones with us, I don't think we can rely on Richard Matheson, Ronald Bass, and Vincent Ward to paint this image for us. (Though I did enjoy the movie!)
Your thoughts?
Reuven and Bilhah
Between husband and wife, and father and son
Parshat Vayishlach
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Our tradition maintains that one merit Yaakov had over his father and grandfather is that all of his sons were righteous – no Eisav or Yishmael in the lot – allowing him to be the one after whom the Jewish nation is named – B’nei Yisrael, the children of Israel.
With this in mind, Bereishit 35:22 leaves us scratching our heads. “While Yaakov was dwelling [undisturbed] in the land, Reuven went and lay “et” Bilhah, his father’s concubine, and Israel heard about it… and Yaakov’s sons were twelve [in number].”
What happened with Reuven and Bilhah? Did he or didn’t he? Two factors need to be considered: 1. What is the meaning of the word “et”? 2. How well do we understand the words in the Talmud when explaining a seeming passage of narrative in the Torah?
Rabbi David Fohrman shares an important discussion of the meaning of the word “et” in his book, “The Beast that Crouches at the Door” (Devora Publishing, 2007, p. 117-124). Sometimes it means “with,” but sometimes it is a grammatical tool used to connect a verb to a direct object. Certainly the verse is not as simple as it seems.
The Talmud (Megillah 25a) goes so far as to say the verse should be read and not translated, due to the difficult nature of understanding the almost clear facts of the case.
But the Talmud says elsewhere (Shabbat 55b), that anyone who claims Reuven sinned is mistaken, because the verse concludes saying Yaakov had twelve sons – meaning none of them were rejected. Instead, we are to understand that Reuven mixed up beds, and the Torah only “makes it seem as if” he had relations with his father’s wife/concubine, even though he did not.
However, the Talmud also says (Shabbat 56a) that anyone who claims King David sinned is mistaken. But King David himself admitted that he sinned (Samuel II 12:13 and 24:10).
If we assume, as the Talmud implies, that King David was correct in his actions with Batsheva and the census, according to King David we are mistaken.
So let us assume for a moment that Reuven’s actions here are a faux pas. Having said that, what happened?
Ramban suggests Reuven was fearful of Yaakov fulfilling God’s command of 35:11 to have more children, because he thought he would lose out more of his inheritance. His “older” mother was no longer fertile, Rachel was dead, as was Zilpah. So he switched the beds around, which worked because Yaakov did not subsequently have more children.
Without apologetics, Bchor Shor and Ibn Ezra claim Reuven did what the Torah says he did. Chizkuni, Rabbi Samson Rafael Hirsch and others suggest, most likely on the coattails of the Tanchuma, that Reuven lay in the room, which discouraged Yaakov from going there. (Ro”sh says he slept on her bed many nights to discourage his father from coming back, even though he did not sin in the way we’d generally suspect.) Once that happened, Yaakov chose to remain celibate for the rest of his days.
The Sha’kh defends Reuven saying Yaakov understood Reuven’s sincere intentions, to keep the family unit intact, and to maintain the requisite number of children required to begin a new nation. Nachor, Yishmael, and Eisav combined with Seir each had twelve sons. Now that Binyamin was born, Yaakov had twelve sons.
Perhaps Reuven thought, “If he has more children, some of his original 12 will be rejected. Perhaps he’ll start by rejecting some of Leah’s children.” So he took matters into his own hands to avoid the creation of more siblings.
Maskil L’David has the most innovative interpretation. Following the line of Reuven mixing the beds, causing his father to spend his evenings with Leah, he says the Torah is indicating the switch through the specific words it chooses.
Mix around the letters of “Vayishkav” (וישכב) and you have “Vayachabosh” (ויכבש) (and he cornered). Mix around “Pilegesh” (פילגש) (concubine – an odd choice because Bilhah is elsewhere called a “wife”) and you have “She’pileg” (שפילג) (that he caused a rift). In other words, he cornered Bilhah, and caused a rift between her and his father, causing Yaakov to seek companionship elsewhere. In this vein, Reuven was punished “measure for measure.” Since he switched around beds, the letters in the Torah were “switched around” to make him look worse.
No matter how we look at Reuven’s deed, what he did was not nice. Whether Bilhah was now prohibited to Yaakov is one question, but that Yaakov chose celibacy as a course of reaction was his own free will – not Reuven’s fault.
Why did Yaakov get angry, as evidenced from the way he spoke to Reuven in Bereishit 49:3-4, “for having moved the beds,” particularly if his intentions may have been noble?
Because no one has the right to cause a rift between a husband and wife.
The relationship between spouses is holy and sacred.
Not only should they view it that way, but everyone who meets them needs to understand boundaries in relating to a couple. Particularly when it comes to relating to a married person of the opposite gender, it is important to bear in mind the holiness of the person’s “kiddushin” and to respect space, privacy, and the individual’s personal commitment to the holy bond of matrimony.
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