O So Embarrassing

Purim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

As more evidence continues to indicate the assassination of a Hamas leader in Dubai was a project of the Mossad, the conversation can go in different directions about the morality of such killings, the precision of the maneuvers and the “job,” as well as speculation about the frequency of such events, and how often they get the international press coverage this particular episode has received.

One perspective became particularly apparent to me after reading one Ian Fleming-inspired telling of the hours leading up to Mahmoud al-Mabhouh’s death. In focusing on their target, at no time was anyone other than al-Mabhouh in danger: not a bodyguard, not an arms dealer, not a girlfriend.

This approach, of course, is the exact opposite of the generally accepted Anti-Semitic viewpoint.

What’s the value of taking out the one Jew you want to get when you can get a whole batch of Jews in one fell swoop?

Esther 3:5-6: “And when Haman saw that Mordecai would neither kneel nor prostrate himself before him, Haman became full of wrath. But it seemed contemptible to him to lay hands on Mordechai alone, for they had told him Mordechai’s nationality, and Haman sought to destroy all the Jews who were throughout Achashveirosh’s entire kingdom, Mordechai’s people.”

Why would it be contemptible for Haman to get rid of the sore in his pride? If everyone else was bowing to him, and only one Jew was presenting a challenge to his ego, would it not be enough to remove the one Jew from the equation, and move on with life?

After Haman sets his plan in motion, his wife suggests to him at the end of Esther, chapter 5, that he should not wait until the 13th of Adar to dispose of Mordechai. Take care of it right away! So he goes to the king in the fateful chapter 6, at which point the story turns and Haman is quickly removed from the picture.

The Vilna Gaon says the term “Vayivez B’einav” which we have defined to mean “it seemed contemptible to him” can also mean “It was embarrassing for him.”

Picture a royal officer who has been promoted to a top position in the capital city. Everyone bows to him, except one person who happens to also be a significant figure in the king’s court.

Imagine Haman running to the king: “Achashveirosh! Achashveirosh!”
“Yes, Haman. How are things going?” the king asks.
“They are well. Everyone is bowing to me, except… there’s this one person…”
“Everyone, except one person? Is it a plebeian or a royal officer?”
“Well… it’s a royal officer. It’s actually Mordechai. The Jew.”

Achashveirosh could now respond to Haman in a number of ways. He could tell Haman to get over it. He could order Mordechai into the king’s chamber to explain himself. He could tell Haman (following one midrash) that were he to remove the idol from around his neck, perhaps Mordechai would be more inclined to follow the king’s decree.

None of these solutions would work for Haman, which is why he did not approach the king about Mordechai initially. He was too embarrassed. He knew that were he to ask the king for permission to kill Mordechai alone for this transgression, it would never be granted.

Instead, he put the onus on all the Jewish people, throughout Achashveirosh’s empire. Once all the Jews’ death sentence is written, Mordechai would inevitably be included in the decree. Problem solved. And Haman need not be embarrassed.

In other words, on account of one small beef with one Jew, Haman justified for himself the murder of an entire people.

It’s a strange world where the many are punished for the sins of the few. In some cases, the sins are not even sins, and the innocents who perish are at the hands of those who cannot seem to get their own lives in order.

If, indeed, the responsible parties from Dubai are on our side, I, for one, am glad that in cases such as this they focus on one man, get their man, and do not create innocent victims. I recognize things do not always happen this way, but this case should be a model for how to rid the world of evil individuals.

The Keruvim as a Model for Relationships

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Parshat Teruma

In the construction of the tabernacle, the Aron (Ark), which contains the Torah, is to be covered with a kaporet (cover), made of solid gold, out of which two keruvim (cherubs) are carved.

“The cherubs shall spread their wings upward so that their wings shield the kaporet (cover). The cherubs shall face ‘ish el achiv’ (loose translation: one another), but their faces shall [also be inclined downward] toward the cover.” (25:20)

The classic understanding is that the cherubs contain the faces of children, one boy and one girl. Yet, oddly enough, when the Torah describes how they face one another, the term employed is “ish el achiv,” which literally means “man to his brother.”

One can argue, as Rashi does in 26:3, that when the Torah is talking about objects which are feminine words (lashon nekeivah) —yeriot (curtains) in that verse — then the Torah describes pairing parts as “ishah el achotah” (woman to her sister). In our case, since the word “keruv” is masculine, it is described as “ish el achiv.”

Despite this, the term “ish el achiv” — which appears in five contexts in the Torah —still implies two males, which brings the male/female interpretation subject to scrutiny.

The first three times the phrase appears are different stages of Yosef’s brothers talking about their relationship with him. Of these three, the first is when they say to one another that “the dreamer is coming and we’d better kill him.”
The second is when Yosef, as viceroy, insists that they bring Binyamin to see him. They say to one another that this is happening because of their role in Yosef’s disappearance.

The third is when they become frightened at the discovery of their money in their bags, after they had paid for their food and stopped along their journey home. (37:19, 42:21, 42:28)

When the Manna falls, we find the people are scared, and “ish” says to “his brother,” “what is it?” because they have never seen and do not understand heavenly bread (Shmot 16:15)

The next two appearances of this phrase are in our parsha and when the mishkan is actually put together (25:20, 37:9) — both describing the cherubs facing each other on the kaporet.

The final appearance of this phrase in the Torah is Bamidbar 14:4, in the aftermath of the spy incident, when many suggest a return to Egypt rather than an attempt to conquer the seemingly dangerous and unwanted land of Canaan.

Aside from the keruvim, all of these cases are literally of men turning to one another and vocalizing their thoughts or opinions.

When it comes to the keruvim, while they are obviously not talking to one another (because they are inanimate), where would the idea of their being male and female come from?

The main source of the keruvim being directly identified as male and female is from the Zohar, inspired by the Gemara in Yoma 54 that depicts the keruvim as “joined together in an embrace” of a male and female.

Aside from Rashi’s interpretation in 26:3, how can we reconcile that the Torah describes each of the keruvim as masculine, when the face of one of them was female?

How can we interpret the phrase “ish el achiv” differently to better understand the role of the keruvim?

The term “ish el achiv” is used when people are discussing issues that have great repercussions. In the case of Yosef’s brothers, they went through stages: let us kill Yosef (they decided to sell him), we are being tormented because of selling Yosef (they eventually bring Binyamin), and our money is in our bags (they return to Canaan, and eventually try returning the money to Yosef).

People are scared of heavenly bread, they ask one another about it, and they learn to use it for their daily sustenance.

While I cannot reconcile the fact that the keruvim are referred to in the masculine while one of them has a feminine face, it is possible that the term “ish el achiv” is meant to suggest symbolism of the role the keruvim play in the human experience.

In all cases where the term appears, people learn a lesson and grow from the way they relate to one another in their shared experience.

On the simplest level, if the keruvim represent a male and female doing their best to live in harmony, who are always looking down to the box they cover and the contents therein, then the keruvim are a married couple who work hard, at all times, to make their marriage work, who look to the Torah for guidance as to how to achieve that goal.

Mishpatim: The "Blessing" of Wealth

This article can also be accessed here on the Jewish Star's website

Parshat Mishpatim

February 12, 2010/ 18 Shvat 5770

Concerning the treatment of those in need, the Torah tells us, “When you lend money to My people, to the poor man among you, do not press him for repayment. [Also] do not take interest from him.” (22:24)

The Midrash Rabba (31:4) says, “Come and see: the person who has wealth, who gives charity to the poor, and lends without interest, is viewed as if he has fulfilled all of the commandments; as it says in Psalms 15:5: ‘He did not give his money with interest, nor did he accept a bribe against the innocent; he who does these shall not falter forever.’”

Furthermore, the Midrash says in 31:5 that Solomon asked of G-d, “If a person asks of You to give him wealth, and You know it will be bad for him, don’t give it to him. But if You see someone who will be pleasant with the gift and will use it appropriately, then give it to him.”

The people of Israel asked of G-d, “Who are Your nation?” G-d answered, “The poor.” As it says in Isaiah 49:13, “Sing, O heavens, and rejoice, O earth, and mountains burst out in song, for the Lord has consoled His people, and He shall have mercy on His poor.”

The difference between human nature and G-d-like nature is that a wealthy individual with poor relatives might not care to be supportive or to acknowledge familial ties (this is not a blanket statement, but is sometimes true), as Proverbs 19:7 says, “All the kinsmen of a poor man hate him…”

G-d’s attitude towards wealth

G-d’s attitude towards wealth, on the other hand, is “And wealth and honor are from before You, and You rule over all, and in Your hand is strength and might, and it is in Your hand to magnify and to strengthen all” (Divrei Hayamim I:29:12); while his attitude towards the poor is expressed in Isaiah 14:32: “Now what shall the messenger of a nation announce? That the Lord has founded Zion, and therein shall the poor of His people shelter themselves.”

In essence, the reason why the world was created such that there are “haves” and “have nots” is to give people the opportunity to do what is just and right in the eyes of G-d (based on Devarim 6:18).
Kindness and virtue are the most G-d-like qualities a person can exhibit: to be a giving person, to be a caring person, to be a loving person, with a full heart.

Charity begins at home

It should begin with family. Of the people I personally know who support destitute or needy family members, they usually begin explaining why they do it by saying, “Nebech. It’s such a sad case. Her husband died (or left her), leaving her with four children.” “Nebech, the kid has no mother, and the father himself is a nebech.” “Nebech, I feel bad for them. I’m the only family they have.”

These are admirable reasons for helping people. Others call it “Jewish guilt.”

It would be even more meaningful if the reason we help is because “I love my family” or “I care about my neighbor” or “I can do my part to help give Jewish children a Jewish education in my community.”

The Midrash says that wealth is a blessing given to those who know what to do with it, who know to use it not just to build big buildings but to help people in the areas of their lives and finances that need the most help — assuming they are trying and struggling, but sometimes even if they are not trying hard enough.

It need not come out of pity. It can come out of love, and passion for doing what is right.

Father in law and son in law: Yitro and Moshe

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Parshat Yitro

A previous column discussed the father-in-law-son-in-law relationship using Lavan and Yaakov as the model protagonists. This week we will explore the same relationship through the eyes of Yitro and Moshe.

Yitro arrives at the Israelites camp bringing his daughter and “her two sons.” This verse leads to a number of questions: why are they with Yitro? Didn’t Tziporah accompany Moshe to Egypt in chapter 4? Why are they referred to as her sons? Aren’t they also “Moshe’s sons?”

After all the efforts to get Moshe to greet his family, we find that the only person Moshe seems able to relate to is his father-in-law, Yitro. Beginning in 18:7 when Moshe leaves the camp to meet them, the Torah says, “Moshe want out to greet his father-in-law” — only to Yitro, not to his wife or sons.

These points are debatable, of course, as the Torah often leaves out details. There is room to suggest — much of this is in the Midrash — that Moshe divorced his wife, saw no need for her to be in Egypt, viewed his sons as his connection to a Midianite life he no longer lived, and, as G-d’s devoted shepherd, did not feel a connection to his immediate family.

But Yitro was different. He was a political ally as the “Kohen of Midian.” And his history with Moshe had been one of more than total support.

After Moshe saved Yitro’s daughters from shepherds, it was Yitro who said, “Where is he? Why did you leave him? Invite him here to eat with us.” It was Yitro who gave Moshe a wife, a job, and total trust. He even gave Moshe his blessing when Moshe said, “I need to branch out and return to Egypt.” (2:20-21, 3:1, 4:18)

Moshe had a sense of appreciation for this man that went beyond the claim of, “This is my father in law.” Yitro comes in to observe Moshe’s practice of sitting all day to judge the people and, frankly, he is not impressed. As the parsha states: “18. You cannot do it all alone. 19. You must… bring [their] concerns to G-d. 20. Show them the path they must take… 21. But you must [also] seek out from among all the people capable, G-d-fearing men — men of truth, who hate injustice. You must then appoint them over [the people] as leaders of thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens.” In essence, the key word is “delegate.”

Verse 24 is ambiguous when it says, “Moshe listened to his father-in-law. He did all he had said.” That Moshe listened is clear. But who did all who had said? Rabbi Elazar Hamodai in the Mechilta suggests that after listening to Yitro, Moshe did all that G-d had said.

When we examine what Moshe did, we see he did not do exactly as Yitro said. “25. He chose capable men from all Israel,” also known as “anshei chayil” but he left out Yitro’s other criteria — “G-d fearing men of truth who hate injustice.” Either he could not find such men, or he felt the other criteria were too high a standard for judges. Yitro had suggested that “big cases” (hadavar hagadol) be brought to Moshe, while Moshe instructed that “difficult cases” (hadavar hakasheh) be brought to him.

In other words, Moshe takes the advice for what it is, knows it is good and comes out of love, and appreciates it. But he must do it his own way — in a way that works for him.

Finally, when the air is getting too stuffy, “27 Moshe sent his father-in-law on his way, and he went away to his homeland.”

Apparently, even for Moshe there is such a thing as an overextended visit.

May all fathers-in-law and sons-in-law have a courteous and respectful relationship. May all fathers-in-laws respect their sons-in-law’s choices in life and be as emotionally supportive as possible, with blessings when possible.

And may all sons-in-law see that the advice given by those who care for you (when warranted and in a setting that is appreciated) comes out of love, and that someone with a little more experience may have a perspective you do not share.

Then do it your way, and either fail or fly.