Getting Rid of the Kiddush Club

I am indebted to Mr. Joey Betesh of Hollywood, FL for challenging me to address this issue. His #1 concern is the influence drinking in shul has on children, especially teenagers, who see drinking as something "manly" and glorified, and who have absolutely no understanding of the dangers of alcohol, and no appreciation for limits. There is a reason why alcohol is illegal for those under 21. We might give our children a little bit of wine at Kiddush, but we are supervising it, and I am sure most who get hooked on drinking are not doing so with wine. [See the follow up to this story here!]

            One of the inspirations for me to tackle the Kiddush Club dilemma is a story I heard about a converted Kiddush-Club member who saw the light after his shul "went dry." Though he was at first upset that his weekly fix was taken away from him, after he no longer slept through lunch and most of Shabbos and found that he actually enjoyed spending Shabbos with his children, he realized how badly the Kiddush Club had affected his family life and his marriage. I salute him for seeing the light!

            This essay is on the long side – over 4000 words – but I hope the information here will provide a sufficient halakhic base for changing the status quo – especially if "Kiddush Club" is a challenge for your shul.

            And to the shul in middle-America that uses the term "Kiddush Club" to refer to the women who volunteer to prepare the weekly Kiddush – this article has nothing to do with you!

Getting Rid of the Kiddush Club

by Avi Billet

           

            The Torah reading has just ended, and the Great Escape begins.

            From bare bones (shnapps and crackers) to fully catered (cholent, kugel, meat, chicken and three side-dishes), the Kiddush Club is as alive as ever in Orthodox shuls around the country.

            What's wrong with it? It's just a couple of guys hanging out, enjoying each other's company. Having a nice time, a little drink, feeling camaraderie together. What could possibly be wrong with this picture?

            Nothing at all – when it is done in a proper time, a proper place, and in the dignified manner befitting such a gathering.

            Unfortunately, most Kiddush clubs begin with three strikes against them: the timing – during the Haftorah, often skipping the rabbi's sermon and perhaps a part of davening including tefillah b'tzibbur; the place – it's a shul (which should be a place dedicated to devarim she'bi'k'dusha) and there are often kids around; the hardly dignified manner in which people seek their drinks and food and set an example for youth.

            Those who attend an Orthodox shul will often claim to have an allegiance of some kind to the halakhic system. Nowadays though people pick and choose which halakhos they willfully follow and which they willfully disregard, why not be a knowledgeable violator instead of an ignorant one? At least now you can't say "No-one ever told me!"

What's Wrong With Drinking? In Moderation - Nothing

            The Rambam (Maimonides) in Hilkhos De'os 3:1 is quite clear that drinking in moderation is permissible. We do not glorify the ascetic existence – see the Nazir's having to bring a Sin Offering at the conclusion of his Nezirus period as proof. Rambam concludes saying, "Don’t be such a tzaddik, and don't outsmart yourself." In other words, don't be so righteous that you don't drink at all. But don't outsmart yourself in thinking that too much drinking is OK.

            And for those who only drink at a Kiddush Club, or on Shabbos, or on reasonable occasion, I am not here to say "You have a problem." Alcoholism is certainly a concern. But those who are careful, who understand limits and who respect the alcohol, so to speak, are not the target of this essay: the target is the when, the where and the how. Because in shul, during davening, in a less than mechubbedik fashion is the wrong place, time and method for achieving what could be very positive outcomes from a Kiddush Club (see the suggestions at the end).

Something Wrong With Eating Before Mussaf? Depends What You're Eating

            Some may argue it is forbidden to eat before Mussaf. This is simply not true. The "zman" for saying Kiddush is after Shacharis, and if Kiddush is recited one may have a bite to eat before Mussaf. Note that I said "a bite."

            There are still problems associated with leaving the organized and structured davening while it is going on – a point which will soon be addressed – but if a structure is put into place for people to make Kiddush without missing davening, there isn't a particular halakhic problem with such an arrangement.

            When I was a camper, the camp I attended had optional breakfast for younger campers before davening on Shabbos, and they'd bring cake and milk to the shul for people to eat immediately at the conclusion of davening.

            By the time I was a staff member, they may have kept the optional breakfast (I don't recall), but they changed the morning routine to consist of Shacharis, a break for "Kiddusha Rabba," followed by Torah reading and Mussaf. At Kiddusha Rabba someone would say Kiddush, and they offered cereal, milk, cake, crackers and herring. There was a dvar Torah, we learned a new "niggun" (song), and then we returned to shul. The structured break allowed for people not to lose patience – on account of hunger – with the length of davening,

            With this kind of structured "Kiddush break" as our background, the Shulchan Arukh (286:3) says, "One may 'taste' (לטעום) before Mussaf – this means to eat fruit or even a small amount of bread, even a 'taste' that is large enough to satisfy the heart (לסעוד הלב). But a meal is forbidden. (סעודה אסור)."

            The Taz (Turei Zahav – Rabbi David HaLevi) comments:

"One may taste: The law is not like Rav Huna because he forbade tasting 'anything' before Mussaf. But it's really an eating which is like a meal which is forbidden… Concern is over the definition of 'tasting.' Everyone agrees that 'eating' is forbidden… When the Tur wrote, 'It isn't the way (דרך) to eat before [Mussaf]' don't think this means, 'There is no prohibition, it's just not the way it's done…'  There absolutely is a prohibition to eat before Mussaf… There is a difference between tasting and eating, and we should not be lenient with regard to allowing a meal before Mussaf."

            The problem in most shuls, unlike in camp, is that there is no structure for having a Kiddush in the middle of davening. And while having a "taste" is OK, we need to understand how such a "taste" is defined.

            The Shulchan Arukh mentioned it, but since we may have missed it, let's look at the Shaarei Teshuvah (286:1), who writes, 

"If a person does not have wine and bread, only has fruit, and his heart is weak [from not having eaten], he may taste before Kiddush before Mussaf. But if he's feeling fine (לא חליש ליביה) he may not be lenient."

            Interesting. Tasting, meaning "Having fruit," is even allowed without saying Kiddush, but is limited to a person whose "heart is weak." So a perfectly healthy young person who is doing just fine, and can manage another 30-45 minutes without eating anything does not really fit this description. Note that he does not require saying Kiddush before eating.

            The Magen Avraham has a similar ruling, in which he quotes the Bach (ב"ח) who maintains that while it might be permissible to even eat a meal, "…The custom is to be machmir (stringent – and not to eat the meal). Therefore, one who has a weak heart, and finds it too difficult to daven mussaf before eating, he should make Kiddush, and eat before Mussaf." Again – the leniency is only for one who has a weak heart and needs to eat. (Unlike the Shaarei Teshuvah, he does require Kiddush to be recited.)

            The Mishnah Brurah (286:9) also focuses on eating fruit, "because eating fruit is not considered a set meal." He even allows a person with a weak heart to have bread until he feels better. He concludes this paragraph saying, "But if this is not the case (e.g. if a person does not have a weak heart), one can not be lenient."

            I do not attend a Kiddush Club. But there have been times when I have davened at an earlier minyan and found myself dragged to a Kiddush Club by those who were leaving in the middle of their minyan. I have never seen a fruit platter at a Kiddush Club. Nor have I ever seen anyone with a weak heart at a Kiddush Club. Frankly, the last place a person with a weak heart should be is at a Kiddush Club, because between the Whiskey and other fare, the person will likely get a heart attack from partaking.

            But there are other problems with the aftereffects of having participated in a Kiddush Club.

You Can't Participate in Davening if you are Drunk

            In his listing of the mitzvot of the Torah, Rambam mentions that a Kohen may not enter theTemple if he's had wine to drink, as it says (Vayikra 10:9), "You may not drink wine and shechar (a generic term for intoxicating beverages) when you enter, etc…"

            In the days of the Temple, the kohen was doing the service on behalf of everyone else. Nowadays, as our "service" consists of the prayers we issue on our own behalf, we can make the argument that any kind of drinking (of wine or 'shechar'), done by anyone, has no place among those who will be returning to the synagogue, or who have not yet finished davening.

            Rabbi Yehuda (Taanis 26b) addresses why we have duchening (on days we do) only in the morning prayers, and not in the afternoon. "Shacharis and Mussaf take place during a time in the day when drunkenness is not prevalent (לא שכיח שכרות)." As opposed to at Mincha time, which takes place after people have had lunch.

            The Even Ha'Azel (R Isser Zalman Meltzer) notes in his commentary on the Rambam (Laws of the Vessels of the Mikdash Ch 8) that there was no stricture put on the Kohen Gadol from drinking at night (in moderation), before going to sleep, since at this time he'll not be entering the mikdash, and it won't diminish his performance. "It takes an hour for the effects of the wine to wear off," and certainly a full night's sleep will have him ready to go in the morning.

            While it is clear that the Talmudic Rabbi Yehuda never entered a modern day Orthodox shul, the notion that people get drunk in the morning hours, specifically before Shacharis or Mussaf, was foreign to him. Drinking during lunch or in the evening hours, on the other hand, in some contexts was either expected, the norm, or tolerated, because there is time to get back to oneself by the time the next service rolls around. But drinking before Mussaf, and then immediately davening Mussaf? This does not fit in with normative behavior, nor proper halakhic practice.

            The first person who was ever accused of praying while under the influence, and properly (though mistakenly) castigated about it was the biblical heroine Chana. Eli the High Priest likely had this Talmudic passage (Eruvin 64a) in mind when he criticized her:

"Rabba bar Rav Huna said, "One who has been drinking (שתוי) should not pray (אל יתפלל), but if he did, then his prayer is valid. One who is drunk (שיכור) should not pray, and if he prayed, his prayer is an abomination (תפלתו תועבה)... What is the difference between one who has been drinking and one who is drunk? One who has merely been drinking is still able to speak before a king. One who is drunk is unable or incapable of speaking before a king."

[See Shulchan Arukh OC 99 which goes into further detail of the laws of drunkenness and davening.]

One can argue that holding a Siddur in hand absolves us of that responsibility, as long as one is conscious enough to read. But who will honestly consider a tefillah uttered by an inebriated individual to be a proper tefillah?

            A different perspective: Either to avoid the temptation, or because the smell is literally improper for the mindset of tefillah, Rambam writes (Laws of Prayer and Duchening Chapter 4:9), "The great scholars would not pray in a house that had shechar in it, nor in a house that has muryas (a fish-fat dip) at the time it is mouldering, because it has a terrible odor (even though the place is tahor)." And the Hagahot Maimoniyot (Maharam (Meir) of Rothenberg) similarly notes that "Shmuel would not pray in a house that had shechar; Rav Papa would not pray in a house that had fish-hash."

            I have had the displeasure of davening next to people who smelled like herring, and a similar displeasure of davening next to people who smelled of single malt scotch. Neither smell is very inviting for proper concentration, and the belching accompanying the latter (not to mention the running commentary) is also unbefitting a shul.

           

Other problems Associated with eating at Kiddush Club

            The Shulchan Arukh also states (Laws of Breaking Bread, Meals, etc 169:2) that one may "Only give food to someone that you know will make blessings." While this is a challenge in general, at least at a structured meal when bread "covers" all the food which will be eaten, and one person says the blessing for everyone, there is certainly room to give food to those who might not make blessings. But the behavior I have generally seen at Kiddushes includes, at best, the bracha over the shnapps, and nothing more.

             Of course, there are exceptions. There are people who are very careful to say all the proper blessings over the food they consume. But those who only wait to hear the Kiddush blessing leaving all other blessings unsaid are certainly behaving halakhically improperly.

            There is another problem associated with eating in this context – when people are rushing to take food, and, in the case of those who are actually concerned about returning to davening – and that is eating quickly: "One should not talk during the meal (e.g. while eating), because perhaps the food will go down the wrong pipe." (Ibid 170)

            The Magen Avraham notes that people should not even speak divrei Torah. While I have never heard a dvar Torah recited at a Kiddush Club, even were one shared, it would be against halakha! If people are so frum about hearing divrei Torah, they shouldn't be skipping the rabbi's sermon. But I am getting ahead of myself.

            Because our next problem is that those who attend a Kiddush Club usually go out during the Haftorah. "Who cares?" you'll ask. "It's 'only'" the Haftorah!" Really? Skipping the Haftorah reflects an ignorance of why we read the Haftorah. It may stem from a time when Torah reading was forbidden by authorities, but the books of the Prophets were somehow not. That is not relevant to our conversation – thank God we are allowed to read Torah and Neviim as much as we want, without restrictions. But do we?

           

The Importance of the Haftorah

            The Encyclopedia Talmudit has a full entry on the subject of the Haftorah, in which the authors begin with different theories of the origins of the Haftorah. [Of the next eight paragraphs, those in Italics are quotes from the Encyclopedia Talmudit¸ while the normal font indicates my comments.]

"Some say the word Haftorah comes from the word meaning "Opening," as in the "opening of the womb" (Peter rechem). Because during Torah reading it is forbidden to speak, and after Torah reading it is permissible (there is 'an opening') to speak. This is not to suggest that it's OK to speak about anything, because the entire tzibur needs to hear the Haftorah, but it's now permissible to talk about halakha topics. For example, if a person had a question during the Torah reading (about the Torah reading) he can now talk to his friend about it [after the Torah reading], because during the Torah reading this conversation was forbidden. (Lvush 284)"

            It is noted that there are people who ignore this "talking during Torah reading" rule, but the two points are the line in bold, and that I am sure people at a Kiddush club are not sharing insights from the morning's Torah reading now that they have the opportunity to do so after the conclusion of the Torah reading. As if they weren't talking during the Torah reading. 

"Some say the word Haftorah comes from "P'tur" (exemption), as opposed to "chiyuv" (obligation), because with the Haftorah, the tzibur becomes exempt of their obligation to read (once the Haftorah is over). (Machzor Vitri p 98)"

            Of course, one needs to hear the Haftorah in order to become exempt from the obligation to hear the different readings. Walking out for the Haftorah reading does not fulfill one's obligation.

            Reasons for reading the Haftorah:

1. Rishonim – Once upon a time people would bring books to shul and learn Torah, Nevim, Mishnah, etc. But when people didn't have that time because they were poor and needed to work, they would stop learning Navi, except for two pesukim in Uva L'Tzion. But on Shabbos and Yom Tov, when there is time, and people aren't working anyway, they brought the crown back to its place through instituting the Haftorah. This is why we don't say Uva L'Tzion on Shabbos and Yom Tov, because we've already read the Haftorah.

2. Some Rishonim wrote that the Haftorah is a Takanas Ezra

Rishonim wrote that even though there is nothing wrong with having a minor read the Haftorah, nonetheless the proper way – derech eretz – is to have a respected adult (אדם גדול וחשוב) read it…

            Rishonim wrote that the Haftorah was not respected/important (חשובה) in their eyes (of the people), because even a minor could do it… There's a major difference between if someone/anyone can do it, versus if someone is getting paid to do it. When you're paying for it, it becomes important.

            We see from these snippets that the Haftorah may be a takanah of Ezra… as is reading the Torah by parshas, finishing it in a one-year cycle! We are pretty strict about the latter, so maybe we should be strict about the former as well. We also see that the Haftorah is an opportunity to engage in Navi study at a time when we are not otherwise working. Shirking that opportunity seems to be quite disrespectful of our dedication to Torah study in general.

            The discussion about whether a minor could read and whether that is proper is an interesting one. The custom in general is to have an adult read: out of respect for the congregation. So perhaps it's not farfetched to suggest the respect should be mutual and the congregation should have respect for the Haftorah - כי מכבדי אכבד.

             [I have a side issue with why the Haftorah takes so long in some places – can't we just restrict it to people who actually know how to read and lein it? The Haftorah should flow as well, if not even more smoothly than the Torah reading, especially when it is read from a book that has the vowels and tropes. Why this is not the case is surely one of the reasons the Haftorah became such a grand opportunity for people to walk out;  when someone stumbles through it, makes many mistakes, and does not read properly – diction and tune – it is hardly inviting or respectful to the congregants. Shuls, take note! With rare exception, most Haftorahs should not take more than 4-5 minutes to read]

            The Pri Megadim (R Yaakov Teomim in Eshel Avraham 284:5) writes, "In the Kavvanos (a work referring to the proper concentration and thoughts one has in davening) it is implied that every individual should say the Haftorah quietly."

            In the laws of Megillah reading (689), Magen Avraham writes, "An individual cannot be motzee someone else, except in the presence of a minyan… a reading is preferred to take place in the presence of a minyan because of b'rov am hadaras melekh – the larger congregation is the glory of the King."

            A couple of other reasons to respect the Haftorah and its role in our Shabbos morning include:

•        the need to "pick up" brachos that are missed on account of the shorter Shmoneh Esreis:

"One must pay attention (לכוין) to the blessings of those who are reading the Torah, as well as to the blessings of the Maftir, and one should answer Amen after them. And all of these blessings count towards one's count of 100 blessings, which are lessened on account of Shabbos." (Shulchan Arukh 284:3)

•        The respect given to the Navi we have read during the Haftorah is paramount, as the Magen Avraham explains: 

 "We do not remove the Neviim book until after the brachos [of the Haftorah] so that one can see and make the blessing on the Haftorah he read… If there is no Eiruv which would allow them to bring the Chumash to the shul, ten people go and read the Haftorah in a home in which there is a Chumash. They can also 'read' the Haftorah by heart if there's no other way to do it."

          It is hard to imagine a Chumash not being present in our shuls, because our shuls are thankfully stocked with donated Chumashim. But imagine a time when there was no Chumash-with-Haftorah in shul. Imagine people leaving shul to walk to where there is a Chumash so they can hear the Haftorah! With such a precedent, how could people walk out of shul nowadays, when the opportunity is presented to them to hear the Haftorah?

What About Mussaf - How Important is That?

            Having learned the rules regarding eating before davening Mussaf, and the importance of the Haftorah, we return to the importance of davening Mussaf. We've seen that davening Mussaf while under the influence of alcohol is improper.

            May a person skip Mussaf?

            The Shulchan Arukh says (286:2), " Every individual must daven Mussaf, whether there is a minyan or no minyan present."

            When I was 20 or 21, I was the gabbai of the "High School/College minyan" in my shul. We always ended our minyan before the main shul. One time, shortly after we had finished our davening, a group of about 15 guys walked in and started to say Half-Kaddish. The shul had a policy of no "unscheduled minyanim," and it was quite clear that these guys had missed Mussaf in the shul and were looking to finish their davening in our now available room.

            Being the gabbai (and a somewhat representative of the shul's rules), I asked them what they were doing. Their ringleader said, "Well, we are davening Mussaf." Why aren't you at the minyan where you started? "Well, we WERE. But… we got locked out." How did you get locked out? "Well, you know how it is… we needed a break, we went out… and now we want to daven." NOW you want to daven? And how did you get locked out? The entrance to the sanctuary at the front of the room is never locked! "I know, but we're embarrassed to go in through there." O. So no embarrassment leaving in order to have some drinks (and some of these guys were hammered), but embarrassment to return after having missed the Haftorah, the rabbi's sermon and the beginning of Mussaf? Am I missing something? Anyway, I told them the shul's policy of no unauthorized minyanim, and at that point the Executive Director of the shul, who happened to be there, stepped in to confirm the policy and welcomed everyone to return to the main shul.

           You get my point. Davening is either important to you or it isn't. If it really is, it should be the priority.

Anything Else?

Finally, to return to the final issue, some who attend the Kiddush Club inevitably miss the rabbi's sermon – sometimes by accident (getting locked out) or sometimes on purpose. Missing the Torah thoughts (as well as Haftorah and Mussaf) is their own bein adam lamakom issue (between them and God), and walking out on the rabbi's sermon is their own bein adam lachaveiro issue (between the individuals and the rabbi). I have my own emotional feelings about this, but as the rest of this article has been focused on halakha and logic – sans emotions – I will not address this point specifically.

Leaving shul for all the events combined is a kavod ha'tzibbur (respecting the congregation) issue. If you don't respect the congregation you are a part of, you're not only fulfilling Groucho Marx's line about "not respecting a club that would have me as a member," but you are indicating that every reason why you come to shul is likely not the right reason.

With all the information that has been presented, I think it is quite clear that with the exception of a person who has healthy issues, leaving shul in the middle of davening for drinking and eating, whether done in a respectful manner or a not-respectful to what should be the dignity of shul and Shabbos manner, has no halakhic legs to stand on. And when children are around to witness drinking being glorified, and to see adults they know (including their fathers) behaving in a manner unbefitting the "makom kadosh" of a shul, can it be more obvious as to why this should not be tolerated during davening? What a horrible example – we are literally throwing out our tuition dollars for a few minutes of pleasure which could just as easily take place in a different time (i.e. after davening) and place.

How Can We Have Our Cake (and Shnapps) and Eat It Too?

            "If you're not against the concept of the Kiddush Club, per se, as drinking in moderation and with a chevra is not objectionable, and you only have a problem with the when, the where and the how, how would you recommend a proper setting for a Kiddush Club?"

            Here are a few suggestions – some that I've seen work very well, and some which border on the ridiculous, but may be needed to help people see how childish it is to have a Kiddush Club during davening.

1. The easiest way to get rid of the Kiddush Club is to have a zero tolerance rule for alcoholic beverages – beyond wine for Kiddush. This has been quite effective in many shuls. It is also best for providing a positive role model for kids – they see shul as a place where Kiddush is done properly, and they don't see drinking being glorified in any manner. It simply is not present.

2. Daven early – don't waste any time - and have your Kiddush Club in shul after your davening is over. With a dvar torah or divrei torah accompanying the camaraderie session.

3. I know a group of men who daven from around 8:30 – 10:30am, and go to someone's house where they have "shechar" and cake and spend the time talking about the Parsha and other Halakhic questions. Their gathering is a true Kiddush Hashem.

4. Change the structure of the shul's morning to have the "Kiddusha Rabba" in a setting in which people can have their break, moderate the drinking, and go back to shul without the need for another break

5. If people really need the break, the shul could have a table set aside with coffee, fruit and cake. A minimal number of people will actually have a need to utilize this. But a coffee break is quick. It is individual. And it does not provide for a mass exodus, the way a Kiddush club does.

6. If people need to "get out," the shul must have a good reader read the Torah and the Haftorah, and the rabbi can speak after davening is over. Those who don't want to hear the rabbi's sermon can leave and have their Kiddush (not that this is proper, as I mentioned earlier, but in some cases "boys will be boys.")

7. Similar to the previous one, following the thought process of the Shulchan Arukh (286:1): "The proper time for Mussaf is immediately after Shacharis… Rama: If one prays Mussaf before Shacharis, he is yotze." Let the shul daven Shacharis and then Mussaf, and then have the Torah reading. It sounds ludicrous, but I have seen shuls do this on Simchas Torah (to avoid drunk kohanim duchening and drunk chazzanim davening) and it has been successful on that date. If people are so needy for the drink and the "out," let them take their own account when it comes to hearing the Torah and the Haftorah, but not take away from the davening, which is "B'rov Am Hadras Melekh" – with a larger crowd the King is glorified. Of course, a structure such as this will becoming the laughingstock of the community, and it may cause the Kiddush Club to naturally fade away so the proper structure of davening can be restored.

May we all merit to appreciate what it means to have respect for Tefillah. May we merit to share that appreciation with others. May our shuls become places of greater dignity in the service of God, as we channel our collective energies to such a worthy goal.

Shimon – A View of a Flawed (Member of the) Tribe

Parshat Vaychi (also good for Vayetze, Vayishlach, Vayeshev, Miketz)

by Rabbi Avi Billet

By and large, the tribe of Shimon does not fare well in the Biblical story. The second of Yaakov's sons is completely bypassed for any leadership role.

The Yalkut Shimoni notes (Shoftim 42) that the tribe of Shimon, "Never had a judge nor a king, on account of the sin of Zimri."

In our parsha, Shimon and Levi are grouped together in Yaakov's blessing – though theirs is hardly a blessing – when he says, "Shimon and Levi are a pair… they have killed men with anger, maimed bulls with will. Cursed be their rage, for it is fierce, and their fury, for it is cruel. I will disperse them in Jacob, scatter them in Israel."

Their having killed men with anger refers to their decimation of the city of Shechem. Otherwise the blessing is cryptic until the end, which predicts their portions in the Land of Israel: Levi gets none – only cities, while Shimon's portion is within that of the tribe of Yehuda.

At the end of the Torah (Devarim 33), Shimon is the only tribe not blessed by Moshe, which Ibn Ezra blames on the Baal Pe'or incident (Bamidbar 25). Ramban rejects this notion, suggesting it is disgraceful to think Moshe did not bless a tribe. It is only because Moshe mentioned Yosef as Ephraim and Menashe, and had achieved the magic number of 12 tribes, that the smallest tribe (Shimon) was left out of the Torah's account of the blessings – more for practical reasons than as punishment.

When one looks into Shimon – the man and the tribe – as depicted in the Torah and Midrash, the picture is far less than flattering – quite reproving, in fact.

His role in wiping out the city of Shechem (along with Levi) is criticized. He and Levi are credited with having the discussion to kill Yosef (37:19-20 – many midrashim and Targum Yonatan), while Shimon is identified as the one who threw Yosef in the pit (Bereshit Raba 84:16). We know Levi is exonerated, on account of the status Shevet Levi carries until today – having Moshe and Aharon and all those who did not participate in the Golden Calf as their forebears establishes Levi's status as the tribe of holiness forever.

Like Cham, son of Noach, who is eternally linked with his son Canaan (and cursed in this manner by his father), Shimon is also linked with Canaan in his lineage. Of all the descendants of Yaakov who descended to Egypt, only one (other than the tribes themselves) has a depiction of his mother attached to his name: Shaul ben HaCanaanit, apparent son of Shimon.

What was his story? Why was he singled out in this way?

The Midrash (Rabati) presents three options: Shimon was the only one of the brothers to marry a Canaanite (otherwise, according to Ramban, they married Egyptians, Amonites, Moabites, Yishmaelites, and Bnei Keturah following Avraham's and Yitzchak's rule of avoiding girls from the cursed nation); 'The Canaanite' refers to Dinah, on account of her encounter with Shechem – Shimon had one child with her (as an accession to her concern that she'd never marry), and then ended their union; Shaul was later Zimri.

With reference to his being Zimri (or the ancestor of Zimri), the Talmud in Sanhedrin 82b explains his name being Shaul ("lend") "because he lent himself [easily] to commit a sin," and Ben HaCanaanit, "because he engaged in a Canaanite act of licentiousness." (How he lived for 250 years is a different question.)

According to those who suggest he was the son of Dinah, either Shimon was the father (see above), or Shechem was the father (Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch). [Some say Yosef's wife was the product of Dinah and Shechem – Targum Yonatan 41:45] Rav Hirsch credits Shimon with raising Shaul, noting a precedent that a Jewish mother (Dinah the "Canaanit") establishes her child's acceptance into her family as he receives her status. That Shimon is listed as his father must then follow the Talmudic ruling (Sanhedrin 19b) that one who raises a child in his home is as if he fathered him.

The Tzror Hamor (R. Abraham ben Jacob Saba) presents a fascinating insight to Shimon, from the moment he was born. Leah saw all that would transpire with Shimon in a prophetic vision – the Zimri/Kozbi story, the union with a Canaanite that would produce Shaul, and therefore the proclivity Shimon has for "zimah." (licentiousness). This is why when she names him (29:33) she says "God heard I am hated," as if to say, "God heard, and got angry." He gave me "this," meaning "If only he hadn't given me 'this' because he is destined for sin…"

His name can be read "Sham Avon" - sin is on him. The natural proclivity for sin was punished when most of those who died at Baal Pe'or were of the tribe of Shimon. The Malbim explains (Bamidbar 26:12) that the entire family of Ohad (son of Shimon) was wiped out, and that Yemuel and Tzochar changed their tribal family names to Nemuel and Zerach to avoid a similar fate – all results of the Baal Peor story.

This portrayal of the destiny of the tribe of Shimon is very depressing. When we consider that the sons of Yaakov are all considered holy, how do we reconcile Shimon's unenviable status of being the worst of the lot?

We see that no one is perfect. Some people have devils in them from the moment they are born. For some people it comes out in spurts, for some it lays dormant, and for some it comes out in later generations – after all, it seems to be embedded in the genetic code.

For those who are preprogrammed this way, their challenge is to overcome their proclivities as best as possible. It's not easy – it never is – but with recognition of the problem, and properly seeking help and guidance, a person has a fighting chance of living a productive life.

For those on the outside, we need to be as helpful as we can, reserve judgment until such time that judgment is fairly warranted, and give the benefit of the doubt as much as possible. Those who say Shimon did a kindness in taking Dinah when she thought noone ever would are clearly judging Shimon favorably.

Living amongst flawed people is a challenge. But we dare not play God with their destiny – some will do bad and will always be bad, some will challenge their nature and be amazing people, and some will recognize their errors and do teshuvah.

How we choose to view and accept or reject them is our challenge – to be fair and honest with all the information we can gather.

Good luck to us all.

Vayigash Sermon - with a tribute to Newtown, CT victims

The "untimely" and unexpected theme of Vayigash:  death?

A friend of mine sent me an email late Thursday night, with the link to an article entitled, "Boynton Beach, FL- Orthodox Man Killed While Riding Bike," asking if it was someone from the shul. The accident took place on Jog about 2 miles from here, and the deceased was identified in the article as Zev Gross from Delray Beach. [With condolences to his family - mentioning him was not to trivialize his tragic death, but to indicate how 'difficult' this week was.]

            From last Friday until now, the news has been ablaze with stories about, and the aftermath of, the Newtown, CT tragedy in which 26 people were killed by an insane individual. I will not talk today about gun rights, or about mental illness – which seem to be the two largest focuses of discussion in the aftermath of the tragedy – nor will I address the downsides of a culture subsumed with violence in video games and film. That last point is not a discussion for our mature audience – we can distinguish between video games and films, and reality.

            But I am going to address thoughts we may have from time to time, about mortality, and what it all means. Not that I have all the answers because I don't. I don't know if I have any of the answers.

            To round out my week, the "Ethics" class in my Melton class was on the topic of "Suicide." I started the class asking if anyone in the room knew someone who had done the deed. And while I am one of the younger people in the room, I was also one of the few who raised a hand. I knew a few people who have done this – one in particular which was quite devastating for me. So, in preparing for the class, I took a very unwanted stroll down memory lane.

Ironically, I saw another news item that Bernie Madoff's brother was sentenced to 10 years in prison. Which reminded me of Madoff – which took place 4 years ago, and whose deeds caused a number of suicides, including his son's who committed suicide two years ago, and who's Yarzeit, also ironically, was this past Monday.

            What a week.

            Concern over death plays a surprisingly significant role in the parsha we read this morning. When Yehuda presents his passionate plea to Tzafenat Paneach, hoping he can melt the ice cold heart of the ruler he stands before, he mentions that "We told you that if our younger brother leaves our father, our father will die. And when we told our father about what you said, he told us, 'You know my [deceased] wife gave birth to two sons. One went out, and he's been torn up. You're going to take this one, and an accident will befall him. My old age will drown in sorrow on my journey to Sheol.' We can't return to our father without our youngest brother, because their souls are linked together. If we return home without youngest brother, HE WILL DIE. I swore by my life that I would take care – that if I don't bring him back, I will have sinned to my father all the days of my life.       

            The Or HaChaim notes in last week's parsha, that Yaakov was convinced to let Yehuda take charge, because Yehuda was not only willing to sacrifice his life in this world, but his world to come experience as well.

            Yosef can no longer play his charade, he reveals himself, and takes the necessary steps from his angle to assure his father continues to survive.

But the brothers were concerned with how to break the Good news to Yaakov – they didn't want to kill him with the amazing news of Yosef's rise to power. This is why the midrash informs us Serach broke the news. Because she was nicer, sweeter, and not involved in any way - she would not have to answer any accusing glances that might say, "How did he get there in the first place?"

Nonetheless, the Torah tells us – following Rav S.R. Hirsch's interpretation of ויפג לבו, that Yaakov fainted and needed to be resuscitated – an interpretation of וַתְּחִי רוּחַ יַעֲקֹב אֲבִיהֶם. And then Yaakov expresses, "Now that I know Yosef is alive, אֵלְכָה וְאֶרְאֶנּוּ בְּטֶרֶם אָמוּת. The clock, we are reminded, is ALWAYS ticking.

            Yaakov goes to Beer Shava , where God appears to him and tells him not to be afraid to go down to Egypt, "For I will go down with you and I will come up with you" – which Rashi says is a promise that Yaakov will be buried in Canaan (after dying in Egypt) – "While Yosef will place his hand on your eyes" – which the Medrash and a number of commentaries say refers to closing Yaakov's eyes when he dies.

            At the end of the parsha, when Yosef is negotiating with the Egyptians over how he will continue to feed them, they keep asking for him to help them so they can avoid dying. "We have no money, but  וְלָמָּה נָמוּת נֶגְדֶּךָ because of that." Later Yosef acquires all their animals, and they say to him,  לָמָּה נָמוּת לְעֵינֶיךָ גַּם אֲנַחְנוּ גַּם אַדְמָתֵנוּ. If Yosef buys their land in exchange for food, and acquires them as slaves, they say וְנִחְיֶה וְלֹא נָמוּת וְהָאֲדָמָה לֹא תֵשָׁם:. After he explains how their serfdom will work, they say, "You have kept us alive. We will find favor in your eyes in our servitude."

            The concern over mortality is clearly widespread.

            Which brings us to our most odd episode in the parsha.

            Yosef brings his father to Paroh, and we are told Yaakov blesses Paroh. Paroh asks an odd questions: How old are you?

            Yaakov answers, "I am living 130 years, few and bad were the days of the years of my life, and they have not reached the days of the years of that my fathers lived." Before leaving, he blesses Paroh again.

One of the Midrashic explanations for this exchange suggests that Yaakov was bargaining with Pharaoh. After blessing Paroh that the Nile should rise and end the famine, Yaakov believed Pharaoh would never let him return to be buried in the Land of Canaan, so he made a deal. ‘Say you will let me go after the famine is over, or I will make my purchases here and return home now.  I have already accomplished my goal of seeing Yosef.’

In this vein, Pharaoh was asking, “How old are you? How do I know we will be blessed on your account during the remaining years of the famine? Maybe you’ll die before the famine ends because you’re so old. Why should I make guarantees?"

This midrash reminds me of a joke. It's a morose topic. A joke won't hurt us:

A shammes is approved for a five year advance on his salary in order to finance his daughter's wedding. He feels compelled to give a speech, and says, "Thank you so much for your kindness today. When five years are over, I will look forward to having paid back my debt to you for your generosity. But if I should die within the next five years, well that will just be my good luck."

To summarize, we have Yaakov at 130 concerned about death, we have his sons, who are between the ages of 39 and 45 concerned about his death, we have Yaakov concerned about Binyamin's death (Binyamin is around 30 years old), and we have Egyptians of all ages concerned about their survival.

Everyone seems to want to live. But the obsession, and all the hype over the possibility of dying makes one wonder if they really enjoyed the lives they lived as they lived it. Even Yaakov's comment to Paroh is disturbing. It's almost as if he wants out, that seeing Yosef is enough, and he doesn't care to be around any longer.

If this is living, who needs it? You'll probably say, "It beats the alternative." And if you have your wits about you to say that, it's probably true.

But the truth is, we don't know what's on the other side, what lies beyond the great white yonder. Paroh legitimately wondered what guarantees Yaakov could make in his death. None!

Every religion tries to answer the question of what comes next. For us, we talk about Shamayim, Gan Eden, being with Hakadosh Baruch Hu and the Malachim. For those who suffered in life, we sometimes say they're in a better place, they should rest in peace. In some cases we talk about death being a kapparah, or even a blessing.

My grandmother, alehah hashalom, and yibadel l'chaim my great aunt would talk about who is watching them from shamayim. My greatgrandmother was always good for helping you find a good parking space, and when the stars align for you. My siblings and cousins say my Babi is the force behind all the marriages and new great grandchildren that have come about in our family since her death.

We say that the deceased is a melitz yosher. And it makes us feel good. Because we need that. We need to put death into terms we understand, because if we don't our lives cease to have meaning. You mean, we just live, do our best, then die, and THAT'S IT? That can't be IT! There MUST be something else. RIGHT? Right, Rabbi? Right?

Yes. There must be. Especially as we believe

יב) אֲנִי מַאֲמִין בֶּאֱמוּנָה שְׁלֵמָה. בְּבִיאַת הַמָּשִׁיחַ. וְאַף עַל פִּי שֶׁיִּתְמַהְמֵהַּ. עִם כָּל זֶה אֲחַכֶּה לּוֹ בְּכָל יוֹם שֶׁיָּבוֹא:

As well as the next one, which is not as famous, because it hasn't been made into a song...

(יג) אֲנִי מַאֲמִין בֶּאֱמוּנָה שְׁלֵמָה. שֶׁתִּהְיֶה תְּחִיַּת הַמֵּתִים בְּעֵת שֶׁיַעֲלֶה רָצוֹן מֵאֵת הַבּוֹרֵא יִתְבָּרַךְ שְׁמוֹ וְיִתְעַלֶּה זִכְרוֹ לָעַד וּלְנֵצַח נְצָחִים:

But what do we do with a tragedy like Newtown?

A few years ago, a friend of mine lost a sister. 18 years old, beautiful מבית ומחוץ, it was a real tragedy. I went the first evening of the shiva because I was going out of town the next day for Pesach. A few people were sitting around as my friend was having a very hard time, and one person - who I can best describe as someone who does not know what to say at a shiva - said to him, "She's in a better place."

It was very hard to contain myself. But as the person was on the way out, I waited until he left and then said to my friend, "That guy does not know what he is talking about. Your sister is not 'in a better place.' This was the best place for her, with your family, with her whole life ahead of her. We DON'T understand, or assume to understand. We are crying and mourning with you."

And Newtown is the same thing. We MOURN. We are sad. We REMEMBER how those who died LIVED, and we do our best to fill in the gaps created by their untimely and tragic deaths brought about by a murderous psychopath. We honor them, we respect their families [how I wish the media would leave them alone!], and we commit not to forget the kind of evil that can lurk in the hearts of men, whether of their own accord or on account of mental illness, so that hopefully hopefully others need not be victims of similarly senseless tragedies.

It's never easy when a younger person dies. But a natural death is somewhat easier to come to grips with. "It was God's plan." "We did what we could…"

But when death comes at the hands of man, we have a lot more questions and "What Ifs" than we know what to do with. And there are no answers.

Why was Yaakov so concerned with death? Yaakov had lived for 22 years as the parent who lost a child. As anyone who has lost a child knows, time may help you move on, but you never "get over it." You always think "what if I had gone about that day differently?"

He never had real closure with Yosef. He didn't want to die without knowing what had happened. And so, when he saw Yosef, he had his closure. He was done. He didn't need the remaining 17 years of his life. Of course, in his case, thankfully, things worked out pretty nicely.

Why was Yehuda so concerned for his father? First of all, Yehuda knows what it means to lose a child - he buried two sons. That is an experience he does not want anyone to go through - especially his father. Show me a person who has a healthy relationship with a parent who wants to see his or her parent die.

Why were the Egyptians so concerned about their mortality – even after they sold themselves as slaves to Paroh? Because in Egypt, the only people who had it good in death were the Pharaohs. Death was otherwise an unknown. Life is known, death is not. We want the familiar. Chazal describe Egypt as a bastion of moral depravity. Which means you live the good life no matter what position you're in, and death is nothing to look forward to.

And Pharaoh was concerned about Yaakov's age, because he knew the signs of old age, and knew Yaakov did not have a whole lot of time left.

Newtown is such a tragedy because it combines a method of death plus ages that we cannot come to grips with. With adults who gave their lives to protect children. And very young children who have lost their innocence far too early, who will be scarred for life far to early on account of the events they witnessed and the friends they will never see again.

It's almost easy for the deceased. They're done.  But we, the living, need to move on. And this is very very difficult.

We dare not forget. But we also dare not crawl into a hole. Because our lives do have meaning, and they do have a purpose. For us, our meaning and purpose is rooted in our commitment to God and coming close to Him through our dedication to Medrash (learning) and Mayseh (deeds).

The Mishnah in Avos says לא המדרש עיקר אלא המעשה. Our deeds are most important. Though our learning is important as well. 

We do our part to enhance the memory of those lost, and to raise our own commitment to living a purposeful and meaningful life - in their place, and when possible, in their name.

Through this we honor the deceased and show our tremendous regard for our short time on earth. For most of the Newtown victims, their short time was way too short, tragically cut short.

Abraham Lincoln said in his Gettysburg address, "from these honored dead we take increased devotion… that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain…"

Yehuda was willing to give up his life in this world and the next world for the sake of one who, though thirty years old, is described by the Torah in childlike terms. And I would venture to bet that most of us would do the same so that a child could live a long and meaningful life.

Let us take upon ourselves a new deed, a new devotion, a new mitzvah, a new chesed, on a regular basis. Give a little more tzedakah on a weekly basis. Read to a child, or read to the blind. Donate your time as a volunteer for a worthy organization. Carry fruit in your car to give to the homeless on the street corner. Daven once a day, or more than once a day. Read a chapter of tehillim every day. Take a book on any Jewish topic, and commit to read a page a day. One page.

Do it in memory of a victim of Newtown. Carry on what they can't any more. Make your world a little more meaningful. And let us remember them - in good health, until a hundred and twenty, and with overabundant nachas - until the day we join their innocent neshamas in the olam ha'emes.

Bringing the Children Along

This was written the week after the horrific shooting at an elementary school in Newtown, CT in 12/2012, in which 26 people, 20 of whom were children, were killed by a _______ (not sure how to describe this 'person.') The loss is too difficult to comprehend, and the vacuum in all of our hearts is sucking at air because we all feel the pain of those mourning for the children with whom they will never have the opportunity to "bring them along" any more.

Parshat Vayigash

by Rabbi Avi Billet

A not-too-farfetched reading of the end of Chapter 45 can indicate that only one person intended to go down to Egypt to stay there.  "… And bread and foot for his father for the journey" (45:23). "He saw the wagons Yosef had sent to carry him…" (45:27) "Israel said, 'My son Yosef still lives: I will go and I will see him before I die.'" (45:28)

It is particularly poignant that Yaakov/Yisrael was the only one excited about the journey. He travels "with all that was his" to Beer Shava, where he brought sacrifices. (46:1) God promises to go down with him (specifically), and that He will take Yaakov up from Egypt. (46:3-4) Yaakov's sons then make sure their wives and children are on the wagons that were sent "to carry him." (46:5).

The final indicators are in verses 6-7, when we see "They took their cattle and their possessions to come to Egypt: Yaakov and all his children with him." This is followed by "His sons, grandsons, daughters and granddaughters and all of his children – he brought with him to Egypt."

Every pronoun is in the singular – about Yaakov.

Why did they not bring all of their belongings in 46:1? Why does it emphasize twice (in 46:6-7) that all his children were with him – first in the general sense, and then in the more specific – before listing them individually? Wouldn't once be sufficient?

And why does it say "He brought them with him to Egypt?" Why did he have to bring them? Did they not go of their own accord?

The Or HaChaim explains that they were only going in order to accompany their father, and had no intention of staying in Egypt. But after the prophesy in Beer Shava, they realized they were meant to go and stay there as well. Which is why they willingly and deliberately put their children on the wagons: if you're going to go, you may as well go in style.

The Malbim further notes that the zodiac indicated there would eventually be enslavement, but that they  (Yaakov's sons) would not personally be enslaved. For the shvatim (the individual tribes) themselves, there was nothing to worry about. But their children, destined to be the first ones enslaved, exhibited hesitation. This is why Yaakov needed to "bring them." Would you want to be dragged along for Grandpa's joyride if he will die soon, leaving you to be enslaved? Didn't think so.

Or HaChaim applies the same thought process to some of the Shvatim themselves – that they too didn't want to go, but needed Yaakov to drag them against their will.

Being dragged along for the ride of someone else's destiny is never easy. When adults get jobs that cause them to move, and their children are uprooted from the system and friendship circle they know so well, it can be traumatic. Those who make aliyah to Israel are sometimes faced with this challenge with their children, especially with kids who were a little older by the time they make the move.

While any move nowadays is hardly comparable to the destiny of being enslaved for a few generations, the natural hesitation, fears, or just plain ambivalence that comes with the prospects of the move are real challenges that aren't easily overcome.

The same is true of certain aspects of how we live. Some schools and parents are quite successful in inculcating a regimen of halakhic observance in their students and children.

Fathers who go to shul bring their kids to shul. Mothers who make prayer a fixture of their lives teach their children that prayer is important to us.

We teach our sons to wear tzitzis, even though the extra garment might not be preferred. We learn Torah in the home, even though a computer game or a toy or a book is more appealing right now.

At the shabbos meal, the kids are present for the zemiros and the bentching. In fact, children learn to say their brachos before and after they eat, even though it isn't "natural" to remember God all the time.

Children are given the opportunity to give tzedakah, to deduct a portion of their allowance. They see their parents write donation checks and understand that we do not keep for ourselves all the money we earn. There are people who are more needy.

If we volunteer at a soup kitchen, we bring our children along, when appropriate.

The fact is, while they are under our protective wings and care, our children share in our destiny – whether they like it or not. We don't have the same opportunity that Yaakov's descendants had, to have an inkling of what the future will bring. But we must bring our children along for the ride, because without proper Jewish living in the present, there will not be a Jewish future.