Closing Remarks

This can also be read in the Jewish Star

Parshat Ki Savo

by Rabbi Avi Billet

My grandmother gets “nachas” from reading this weekly dvar Torah. She told me a few times that one of the things she enjoys doing when reading her weekly fix is to skip to the end and read the last paragraph first. It makes sense – that’s where the crux of the message is usually embedded. And knowing me as well as she does, she enjoys hearing her grandson’s voice come off the page in a style she has known my whole life.

This week the closing paragraph is not my language, so perhaps my Babi will not “shep” the same nachas. But I trust Moshe Rabbeinu’s words will provide a similar zinger to get her heart pumping.

How Biblical characters finish their important speeches is an amazing phenomenon to consider. What are the last words they say, with what message do they leave their intended audience?

Perhaps King Solomon did it best in Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) when, after a roller coaster of emotions, ranging from complete despair and disillusionment to fits of happiness, Solomon famously concludes, “The end of the matter, after all is heard, is that one should fear G-d and observe His commandments, for that is what humanity is all about.”

The haftorah of Parshat Balak ends on a similar note, with the words of the prophet Micha (6:8): “He has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord demands of you; but to do justice, to love loving-kindness, and to walk humbly with your G-d.”

And in our parsha, we have Moshe.

The book of Devarim is divided into a few sections, but the largest one is unquestionably Moshe’s farewell address that spans from chapter 5 through chapter 26. You will not find an instruction from G-d or the word “vayomer” (and he said) because it is all one big speech.

Regarding Moshe’s final message in this section, a series of four verses that are grouped together as the third aliyah in Ki Tavo, Rabbi J.H. Hertz writes, “Such is the glorious distinction in store for an Israel that is obedient and loyal. The idea is elaborated in 28:10, ‘And all the people of the earth shall see that the name of the Lord is called upon thee…’ See Exodus 19:6 ‘And ye shall be unto me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’”

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch expands on this with a similar idea: “Israel belongs exclusively to Him [G-d], no other power has dominion over Israel… Once it has proven itself a faithful guardian of His law, [the people Israel] will be given a place in world history far above all the other nations He has created… Israel’s appearance shall be for G-d as a name… it shall make known G-d’s name, for Israel walks among the nations with the book of His revealed laws and teachings in its hand… Israel must be a holy nation committed only to what is morally good and pleasing in G-d’s sight, and this duty devolves on every one of its members. Thus, if Israel should ever betray its sacred mission, the smallest child from the other nations of the world could remind it of its mission and of its duty.”

One gets goose bumps reading these things. And a little antsy – what is it that Moshe says when he finishes his big speech? What is his final thought before changing the subject of the last 21 chapters leading into his tying up all loose ends in the final chapters of the Torah? Perhaps, we can all think, if we were to give a four-sentence closing statement trying to sell Judaism, and more importantly a Torah lifestyle, how would we do it?

Here is Moshe’s parting thought as he leaves the podium from his “last lecture.” (see here and the text from this lecture)

“Today G-d your Lord is commanding you to obey all these rules and laws. You must carefully keep them with all your heart and with all your soul. Today you have declared allegiance to G-d, making Him your G-d and [pledging to] walk in His paths, keep His decrees, commandments and laws, and to obey His voice. G-d has similarly declared allegiance to you today, making you His special nation as He promised you. If you keep all His commandments, He will make you the highest of all the nations He brought into existence, for praise, fame and glory (yours? His?). You will remain a nation consecrated to G-d your Lord, as He promised.”

Wow.

Jewish Honor Killings?

This also appears in the Jewish Star

Parshat Ki Tetze
By Rabbi Avi Billet

The “controversial” cover photo on the Aug. 9 issue of Time featured the face of a young Afghani woman whose nose has been cut off. Though we can’t see it, apparently her husband, the man who cut off her nose, also removed her ears in the Taliban-commissioned attack on the 18-year-old.

The magazine editor defended using the photo, for which the young woman posed, saying the world needs to know what returning power to the Taliban in Afghanistan will mean. This and “honor killings” will be run-of-the-mill in a society governed by Sharia law.

Perhaps Muslim fanatics who have no respect for life are irrelevant to us – they are free to do to their own people what they want.

We don’t really believe that, of course, but let’s leave the “what can we do?” question to the politicians to fight over for now.

The issue is relevant, however, when we look at Devarim 22:21. If a “na’arah” wife is accused of infidelity during her betrothal period, her husband and her family may each present their case. The Torah tells us what the husband’s punishment is for fabricating the tale, and then the Torah explains what happens if the accusation is proven true: “They will take the young lady to the doorway of her father’s home, and the people of the city will stone her until she dies. She has brought sexual immorality to her father’s house, doing a shameful thing in Israel. You must therefore rid yourself of the evil in your midst.”

Though a modern society might somewhat justify her behavior – she was experimenting, she was young and innocent, she didn’t know what she was doing – let us agree that her faithlessness is deplorable behavior; after all, a betrothal is a commitment.

But the death penalty? And in such a fashion? Could the Torah be serious?

By our standards the text alone is insufficient. The Oral Tradition (Torah She’baal Peh) and Rabbinic explanation help us understand the text more clearly.

“An eye for an eye,” for example, is rabbinically interpreted as a monetary punishment.

While that is not the case here – if guilty, the girl will die – the circumstances to bring about capital punishment are so difficult to achieve that the punishment as written is virtually impossible to carry out.

Valid witnesses (who cannot be related to either of the perpetuators or biased in any way) need to warn would-be perpetrators that the act they are about to commit is a Torah prohibition, for which the punishment is “x.” The act needs to be witnessed and then presented to the court without contradiction. The court must have the power to carry out capital punishment, which is not the case in our society where rabbinic courts are primarily limited to monetary arbitration, conversions and divorce cases.

In our case, the girl has to be the age of a “na’arah” – between twelve and twelve-and-a-half – a very small window of time. Much as the Rebellious Son (Ben Sorer u’Moreh) (21:18-21) was never killed (Sanhedrin 71a) – it stands to reason our case was also meant to be taught as a lesson in morality, without ever coming to practice.

Besides, the last mishnah in Makkot chapter 1 indicates, in essence, that Jewish courts did not carry out capital punishment.

In our day, therefore, no one can ever interpret these verses literally. Other than saving someone’s life from a direct danger, no individual may take the law into his own hands.

The guilty girl committed a horrible act. “Her offense is to all of Israel for not upholding the moral standards for which we are most proud.” (Sifrei) Whether it is her fault depends on how much we accept that a “na’arah” has understanding of the repercussions of her deeds. Some will say she has disgraced her family; others will argue in her defense. Surely her family taught her to conduct herself otherwise. Or did they?

The punishment takes place on her family’s doorstep – not to protect their honor, but to shame them. And it is carried out by the entire nation, not by her husband or family. The Talmud in Ketubot (45a) says the crowd exclaims “Look at the offspring you have raised!” In other words, you parents failed in the education of your daughter. Does the family want their daughter dead? Of course not. The lesson is not that Judaism believes in honor killings. We abhor the thought and distance the idea.

But we do believe in a strong education, in living by a set of values that are immutable. And, most importantly, in passing our values to the next generation.

Had the girls’ parents educated her properly, this never would have come about.

There is no room for hypocrisy. If we are to sustain Judaism as we know it, we can no longer afford to hear stories of infidelity of any kind. Children learn to do the things they see, and are very well aware of when we contradict ourselves – preaching one way as we practice another. We must live the lives we know the Torah depicts as ideal because through these guidelines our lives will not only be filled with meaning but will stand as a blessing to ourselves and everyone around us.

Tamim = A Complete Education

This also appears in the Jewish Star

Parshat Shoftim
by Rabbi Avi Billet

I’ve always marveled at the notion that Jewish men or women do not need to get any education beyond a Torah education. The thought that we might close off our brains or deprive ourselves of G-d’s gifts to this world is anathema to my existence, especially when we live in a time when knowledge is so readily accessible.

However, one need not leave the walls of the Beis Medrash to discover that people like Maimonides, Nachmanides, the Gaon of Vilna and others were heavily steeped in sciences and non-Torah subject matters — in addition to their being top-notch Torah scholars.

In Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach’s responsa on electric matters, he often spends dozens of pages describing the mechanics and technical matters of scientific realities before entering the realm of halakhic discourse.

The Talmud (Shabbat 75a) and the Sifrei (170) say that while one may not learn the ways of the other nations of Canaan in order to practice their ways, “One is permitted to learn about the things they do, to understand and to teach” a proper path. Of course, “their practices” refer to activities which are specifically polytheistic, pagan, or ritualistic — outside the pale of Judaism. But if the knowledge one will gain will make a person more well-rounded, the Talmud seems to be giving the learner its blessing.

The Talmud Shabbat takes this idea a step further and says that a person who does not learn about the seasons and constellations is not fulfilling a mitzvah of Devarim 4:6.
Amazingly, one of the criteria for a person to be appointed to the Sanhedrin is that he have an understanding of witchcraft and magic (Sanhedrin 17a, bottom), (Menachot 65a, top).

The common denominator of these bullet points is the allowance, the acceptance, and the necessity of having a general education beyond one’s Torah education.

This discussion stems from a fundamental interpretation of Devarim 18:9-13. “When you come to the land G-d gives you, do not learn to do the abominable acts of those nations. [Here the Torah lists kinds of necromancy, sorcery and magic.] Anyone who does these is perverting an abomination against G-d. It is these activities that are causing the nations to be chased out of the land. Be ‘tamim’ with Hashem your G-d.”

On “Do not learn to do the… acts” Rashi quotes the Talmud cited above to suggest we are in need of an education to know what is out there, so we can act accordingly and know how G-d wants us to behave, as well as the behaviors G-d abhors.

Therefore I would like to suggest that “Tamim Tihyeh Im Hashem Elokekha” means “Be complete with Hashem your G-d” in the sense of having as well-rounded an education one can have. Being complete means we have a life-long task of educating ourselves about not only Torah, but anything which can be defined as a G-d-given science.

Whether it is astrology, philosophy, political science, rules of governance, understanding the stars and the zodiac (Ramban has a lengthy commentary on this section of the parsha in which he intimates that these magic “sciences” are real and were put on earth for a purpose – just not a Jewish purpose), mathematics, biology, chemistry, physics, medicine, health – all of these are available to us to study and to understand, so we can have a complete knowledge of G-d and His world.

How will we know what to do with it all? The next verses in the parsha say we are to be guided by a prophet, just like Moshe.

In our days there are no prophets for us to follow. We have, on the other hand, a legacy of right and wrong, of the proper path versus the improper path, of what is pleasing to G-d versus what is not pleasing to G-d.

What is unacceptable, however, is to write off knowledge of the world as “goyish,” and to claim that pursuit of ideas which do not smack of Torah is to be avoided because it is something a Jew “doesn’t do.”

Not everyone needs to be a professor or scholar, but to avoid intellectual pursuits using Torah as an excuse is, at least according to one passage from the Talmud, the equivalent of not fulfilling of a mitzvah.

Remember the slogan of the United Negro College Fund since 1972: “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.”

Taking Off Our Tefillin on Rosh Chodesh

I thought about this question again today - as it is Rosh Chodesh, so here is a link to my discussion of this around a year ago.

Since doing this research, I came across this article from my old yeshiva, which essentially makes the same points.
Here is the link - the quoted text (everything below) is at the end of the page there

On Rosh Chodesh we take off our tefillin before musaf for one of two possible reasons:

(1) The Beit Yosef say that it is because in musaf we say "keter" in kedusha and it is not appropriate simultaneously to wear the "crown" of tefillin; or

(2) The Radbaz (responsa vol. IV, 80) and the Levush (423) explain that since musaf is in place of the musaf offering of the day, and since Rosh Chodesh is similar to Yom Tov (when tefillin are not worn), we refrain from wearing tefillin at least during the time which corresponds to the time of the sacrifice.

One possible difference between these two would come to light in the case of one who does not say "keter" in kedusha. However, see the Rema who writes that such a person too should nevertheless take off his tefillin before musaf (see also M.B. 25:62).

If one started to pray musaf, forgetting to take off his tefillin, see M.B. 25:61 (although the Zohar in Pinchas warned that one who prays musaf with his tefillin on is subject to a very great punishment).

When should one take them off on Rosh Chodesh?
The Mishna Berura here (25:59) and in Hilkhot Rosh Chodesh (423:10) brings several minhagim: (1) After the kaddish which precedes musaf. (2) Before musaf, in "u-va le-tzion go'el," right before "Yehi ratzon ... she-nishmor chukekha" (in order not to interrupt between kaddish and musaf). (3) One should take the straps off his finger before "Yehi razon" and take the tefillin off after kaddish.

It appears to me that most people follow option (1), but each individual should gauge his own dexterity in the removal of tefillin and make sure to have them off in time to begin musaf with the congregation.

Shelo Asani Ishah and Others [Part 2]

Part I on this topic can be found here


At a bris I did recently, the baby's grandfather said to me, "What blessing does a girl say at a bris?"

I didn't know.

"Shelo asani BOY." (for not having made me a boy)

Cute joke. [If you don't get the joke, you can see the explanation here, which will lead you back to this page]

But it got me thinking, once again, about the morning blessings, and that o-so controversial blessing of "Shelo Asani Ishah" – for not having made me a woman. I've written about this blessing before – and in response to this article, I penned a letter which the Jewish Week actually published in their print edition, but which has somehow since disappeared from their website

To the Editor:

In general, blessings are more “acknowledgement” than “thanks.” As such, you need not feel guilt or speak silently when you state, point of fact, that God did not make you a woman. Women recite a parallel blessing acknowledging God for “having made me according to His will.”

If I were to make something "according to my will," the object I would make would be the absolute best, the most perfect, without flaw and error. One of the reasons suggested for why women do not need to be circumcised, an act which finally made Abraham perfect and “Tamim” - complete (Genesis 17:1), is because they are born physically perfect and complete. (Obviously, with all the flaws that “all” humans have.)

Think of what you are saying this way:
"God, you did not make me a woman. You made me something else, and there are all kinds of things that I need to do to overcome desires and to correct and improve myself. Sometimes I need commandments to help me do this. I need to pray harder and I need to work harder because spirituality and a connection to You does not come as easily as it does to a woman. This is hard. This is rough. But this is the way You made it. And so I bless You, for Your eternal wisdom.”

Now who has a better blessing?
Avi Billet

A simple Google search brought me to this posting - which is well worth the read. The author addresses a suggestion of a left-leaning Orthodox rabbi who suggests changing the siddur to less controversial language, as it were. Read, and decide for yourself.

Here is my new thought on the matter – which may be extremely farfetched, but hopefully you can't deny its creativity.

Brachos 60b

When one looks at the morning blessings, it is clear that they all share a commonality related to one's morning experience and routine upon waking up. They all begin "blessed are You, Hashem, King of the world, who..."

* Gives the rooster (some translate as "brain") the understanding to determine between day and night
* Did not make me a "goy" (part of a different nation)
* Did not make me an "eved" (generally translated as "slave" - one subject to a human master)
* Did not make me a woman
* Opens the eyes of the blind
* Clothes the naked
* Frees the bound
* Straightens the crooked
* Spreads the earth upon the waters
* Provided me all my needs
* Firms man's footsteps
* Girds Israel with strength
* Crowns Israel with splendor
* Gives strength to the weary
* Removes sleep from my eyes and slumber from my eyelids

Then we call upon the God of our forefathers to help us have a good day, without too much trouble or challenge and to bestow kindness upon us. We conclude with a prayer that asks for us to be rescued from evil or mishap, whether it come from someone who is a member of the covenant or not a member of the covenant.

The Talmud in Brachot (60b) explains that many of these blessings are meant to be said in the context of one going through one's morning rituals.

When morning comes "Who gives the rooster (or brain) knowledge to differentiate between day and night." When you actually open your eyes "Opens the eyes of the blind." When you begin to get up "Frees the bound." When you stand up and stretch, "Straightens the crooked." When you put your feet on the ground/earth "Spreads earth upon the waters" – for making there be land for me to stand on, as opposed to living in the sea. When you get dressed "Clothes the naked." When you walk "Firms man's footsteps." When you put on your shoes "He provided me all my needs." When fastening one's belt "Girds Israel with strength." When you put on your hat or head covering "Crowns Israel with splendor." When washing the face "Removes sleep from my eyes and slumber from my eyelids."

It is noted, of course, that the three blessings whose gist begins "Shelo asani" – for not having made me "x" – are not discussed in this Talmudic passage. They are addressed separately in Menachos 43b.

Menachos 43b

In Menachos, there is a debate as to the language of the blessings. As what we have in the siddur is the most mainstream, it is fairly obvious which approach became normative.

The gemara debates the merits of the blessings and essentially feels we ought to say all three to help us say 100 blessings in a day (different discussion). If we start questioning some of the blessings, we'll start removing some of them and lower the number of blessings we have the opportunity to say.

One of the main points the gemara seems to draw from the simple wording in the negative "For not having made me a gentile, slave, or woman" is that this refers to levels of obligation in mitzvos. I've already discussed this point in my original posting (also linked to above).

Another main point is that when we bless God "for not having made me 'x'" we are saying "'X' is a good thing. I am not 'x' and so I bless God." [Remember that the Gemara in Brachos continues with the passage about "A person's obligation to bless God for the bad just as one blesses God for the good." Admittedly, the gemara speaks of the blessing "Dayan Ha'emes" - which is the blessing one says upon hearing bad news, such as of someone's passing. Nonetheless, the principle is still true.]

Is it good to be a gentile? If one is a gentile, yes.

Is it good to be a slave? If one is treated well by one's master – there are merits. You never have to worry about your home (rent, mortgage, keeping a roof over your head), expenses, finding a wife, how many children you will or won't have.

Is it good to be a woman? Ask most women, they wouldn't give it up for the world.

I'll make an admission – there are times when I "thank" God, not just acknowledge God, for not having made me a gentile, slave or woman. This usually happens when they do something I could never envision myself doing or wanting to do – and I thank God that I am not that way. Not that there's anything particularly wrong with it – but it is something I could never see myself wanting to be part of my life. "Thank God I am not that." (I can't imagine not being ready to go somewhere unless I've put on makeup, for example. I can also not imagine living in a culture where people might say "I don't trust a man who won't drink with me.")

The gemara in Menachos doesn't go into more detail as to why we say these blessings or when we say them.

Which brings me to the creative idea which was inspired by the joke.

Creative Thinking 101

In the context in which all the blessings appear, we are looking at the things a person experiences in the morning. The gemara in Brachos does not explain the "Shelo Asani" trilogy, but since our siddur lumps them into the other blessings, I think it is fair to suggest they also refer to one's observations of one's morning routine.

And I think we can suggest that all three blessings are a certain acknowledgement regarding bris milah (circumcision), which might be otherwise inappropriate to discuss in the gemara. But, at least for a man, it is a significant component of what he confronts in his morning routine.

We do have a blessing of "asher yatzar" [see also this cool poster] which is to be recited after one relieves oneself in the restroom. But these blessings ("Shelo Asani"s) are acknowledgment before appreciation that my body functions appropriately.

And they are listed in the negative because as much as I enjoy mitzvahs, I recognize that circumcision is a mitzvah that I might otherwise prefer not to have gone through – because honestly… - but I do it because You commanded me to do so.

New Explanations
Shelo Asani Goy – I acknowledge that You did not make me a gentile who does not have this mitzvah of bris milah (circumcision). Implication – I acknowledge my lot to have such a mitzvah and I am grateful for it.

Shelo Asani Aved – According to the Torah, even a slave is circumcised. But he is circumcised when he is acquired, which could be as an adult. Implication – If I am to be circumcised, I am grateful that this didn't happen the way it does to slaves, ie as adults. As a newborn, I don't remember it, I didn't feel all that much, and I had twenty four hour care from a mother who saw to my every need.

Shelo Asani Ishah – A woman, for obvious reasons is not circumcised. As a rebbe of mine said to my oldest child, a girl, when he first met her when she was a baby, "You are so lucky your father never did anything to you," or as the joke says "Shelo Asani Boy." I acknowledge that, not being a woman, I am subject to this surgical foreskin removal. Would I have necessarily wanted it, had they asked me when I was a baby? Who knows? But I acknowledge that you didn't make me a woman - over whom, thank God, there isn't even a possibility. In my male Jewish life, there was no option. I was going to be circumcised, and I am circumcised. I merit to bear this mark of the covenant.

The reason we don't say "She'asani Ish" [for having made me a man] therefore, is because we don't "Acknowledge" or "Thank" God for putting us through a painful procedure. We acknowledge for not having made it otherwise. [A point to consider, as proof, is that on the day of a bris we don't say tachanun, in celebration of the mitzvah which is being performed. But unlike other days when tachanun is omitted, we still say "Lam'natzay'ach" which acknowledges a "day of pain" (yom tzarah), which is what the baby is experiencing.]

Finally, this explains very nicely why a woman's blessing is "She'asani Kirtzono" - for having made me according to His will. Abraham was told by God in Genesis 17 "Walk before me and become perfect." Most interpretations say that Abraham became perfect through undergoing his circumcision. Translation – woman, as a physical specimen, is created perfect and need not undergo any corrective surgery to "perfect" herself in God's eyes.

The more I think of it, the more I am convinced the women got a much better blessing.

If we could only stop thinking the rabbis were out to get us, we could move on with our lives and be so much happier.

Another interesting suggestion can be found here (link goes to myjewishlearning.com)

A Communal Priority

This was published by the Jewish Star

Parshat Re'eh

Who is the most desperate, destitute member of the Jewish society?

It’s a loaded question and there is no correct answer. Unless you specify from whose perspective. The pauper feels he is most destitute. Every collector who comes to my door thinks their story is the most important tale of woe. Maybe the person who needs life-saving surgery, or the one on the waiting list for an organ is most needy.

All of these are certainly important cases, and when possible, we ought to help in whatever way we can.

From the Torah’s perspective, there are a group of people who we are to keep in mind because, unlike those who come to our doors to collect — who are able to do something for themselves — there are those who can’t, thereby rendering them projects for the Jewish community to lovingly support.

Numerous times in our parsha we are given lists of who we should support. While some of those who we need to look out for are fairly obvious, the widow and orphan for example, the ones that round out the various lists are “your sons and daughters, your male and female servants, the ‘ger’ (stranger? Proselyte?) and the Levite.” (See Devarim 12:12,18; 14:29; 16:11,14)

Specifically, the Levite seems to be the common denominator, and is often mentioned alone (12:19; 14:27; mentioned apart from the group in 14:29).

While caring for one’s children is an obvious priority for any parent, and the responsibility of caring for those who serve you — servants or slaves — is elementary to a compassionate Jew, why does the Levite get such special attention?

The simple answer is given in the Torah in numerous places. In the realm of inheritance and tribal property, the tribe of Levi were given cities, but were otherwise left out of the divisions of the rest of the nation. (see Bamidbar 18:23-24 Devarim 10:8-9; 12:12; 14:27; 18:2)

The Rambam (Maimonides) takes this a step further and provides us with an answer to our question with a contemporary twist.

At the end of the laws of Shmittah and Yovel (13:12-13), Rambam writes:

“Levi did not merit to inherit the land or the spoils of war because they were separated to do the service of G-d, to serve Him and to teach His straight ways, and his righteous laws to the masses, as it says ‘He will teach [G-d’s] laws to Jacob and His Torah to Israel.’ Thus they were removed from the ways of the world. They do not engage in battles, they do not inherit land, and they do not merit privileges through their own might. They are G-d’s army — and G-d personally gives them merits when He says ‘I am your portion and your inheritance.’”

“And it is not only the Levites. Rather, any man of the world who donates his spirit and understands of his own knowledge to separate himself and to stand before G-d, to serve Him and arrive at knowledge of G-d… and he removes from himself the burden of financial accountings, he has sanctified himself to be the holiest of holies and G-d becomes his portion forever. He will merit — in this world — to have stability and no worries, just as the Kohen and Levi have.”

The Levites were not kollel-leit. They didn’t choose to be Levites — they were born Levites, limited in the work they could do, and were mandated by G-d to be supported by the community. They were teachers, scholars, and role models.

In our day, in the absence of the Temple, these roles have been filled by our teachers and rabbis. These professions are often thankless jobs, in many cases filled by people who have chosen this life because of their desire to teach and help Jews advance their personal Jewish experiences.

The Levites made whatever effort G-d allowed them, and were singled out by G-d as a top priority of people needing support from the community.

There is a need to support those who sacrifice and dedicate themselves to the community. These are not the individuals who sit in a yeshiva all day; not the individuals who choose to “only learn” when they are by no means the “best and the brightest” destined to be great Torah leaders. If they do not dedicate their time and their Torah knowledge to share with others, they are not the contemporary Levites.

But those who make an impact, who are in the trenches with the general population, who sacrifice glory and wealth to help others get closer to G-d are worthy of being the beneficiaries of the words of Devarim 12:19: “Be careful, lest you leave behind the Levite all your days on your land.”