Holiest and THE Holy of Holies

Parshat Ki Tisa 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The term "Kodesh Kodashim" appears in the Torah 18 times – twice in Parshat Ki Tisa. However, not one of these times does it refer to the Holy of Holies, the section of the Mishkan/Tabernacle which houses the Aron/Ark.

           

The "Holy of Holies," as it were, is called "Kodash HaKodashim," with the letter "heh" defining the definite article as being "THE" Holy of Holies – the room designated as the holiest place in the world.

            

In addition to the 18 Torah references, "Kodesh Kodashim" appears 5 more times in the Bible. The phrase referring to the back room of the Mishkan appears 9 times, thrice in the Torah and four times in Divrei HaYamim (Chronicles).

            

Referencing Rabbi Akiva as the source, the Midrash describes the book of Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs) as being "Kodesh Kodashim," the holiest of the books of the Bible(Shir Hashirim Rabba 1, Medrash Tanchuma Tetzaveh 5, etc)

            

The difference between the Holy of Holies (Kodesh HaKodashim) and the holiest of things (Kodesh Kodashim) is literally one letter "heh" in the Hebrew. How could the same term be applied twice, meaning different things, with only one letter distinguishing between them?

            

The truth is, this concept is not foreign to us. There are bosses, and there is The Boss. There are Avot (ancestors), and there are The Avot (the Forefathers). There are gods, and there is The One and Only God. The list goes on.

            

Is there a common theme to all of the things described as "Kodesh Kodashim" (the holiest of things) in the Torah?

            

The simple answer is yes, as almost everything described as being the holiest of things are part of the Mishkan. Sometimes it refers to the large Mizebach (altar) where animal sacrifices were burned (Shmot 29:37; 40:10). Sometimes it refers to the inner Mizbeach, where spices were burned (30:10,36).

At times the "holiest of things" refers all the vessels of the Mishkan (one reading of Shmot 30:29), the Lechem HaPanim (showbread) that was placed on the Shulchan (Table) in the Mishkan (Vayikra 24:9), or the fire representing the sacrificial order associated with the Mizbeach (Bamidbar 18:9).

In the book of Vayikra the holiest of things is the term used to describe Mincha offerings, a Sin offering, the Asham offering (mostly in chapters 6, 7 and 10).

The only other reference in the Torah is to the concept of a Cherem – items which are essentially consecrated to the Mishkan or to God (Vayikra 27:28) when they are excluded from profane use. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch describes this designation as a person taking property given to him by God and returning it to its original owner.

God in turn, as the Talmud (Arachin 29a) points out, has designated this Cherem to the Priests, who may personally use it as unconsecrated items – unless the designator specifically claimed the items for Temple use.

Something which is "Kodesh Kodashim" specifically, however, is "a sacred thing from which other sacred things derive their sanctity." According to Hirsch, everything which is described as Kodesh Kodashim "relates directly to man's actions, to the Torah and to man's relation to it." It is the consecration of actions which is the main foundation and basis of the Sanctuary, as it is the source of the consecration of all of man's other relations.

The Mizbeach plays such a significant role in the consecration of active man. This is why both Mizbechot stand in the center – of the Mishkan itself and the outdoors, respectively – directly opposite the Aron. It constitutes the true center of the area in front of and around the Sanctuary.

In his commentary on Shmot 29:37 Hirsch argues that, "In Judaism, the concept of holiness is inseparably connected with sanctifying. Nothing becomes holy so that holiness should be concentrated in it, while all else is left to the realm of the unsanctified. Everything becomes holy in order to sanctify."

            

In a sense there is an ideal holiness which in unattainable: The Holy of Holies, the Kodesh HaKodashim. But there is also a holiness which is attainable, which is inspired by the ideal, and that is Kodesh Kodashim, a holiness that is largely dependent on actions. Whether it is an action that brings one close to God through the Mizbeach, or one that assigns exclusion from profane use to define its sanctification, it is the person who creates this admirable level of holiness which draws inspiration from the Holy of Holies itself.

            

Our task is to take action: to assign holiness to our endeavors. To make our davening a holy experience. Our learning a holy experience. Our performance of every mitzvah, each into its own unique experience. It will be what elevates our Shabbos to a day of Kedusha, on top of a day in which we exclude the profane.

            

Perhaps we can now understand why Shir HaShirim is referred to by Rabbi Akiva as "Kodesh Kodashim." Shir HaShirim is a love song, some claim an allegory to the love between God and the Jewish people. And love can be quite mundane and physical. But love also has the potential to be holy, to sanctify, and to elevate, and to consecrate man to his beloved, or more poignantly to his God.

            

May we be blessed to achieve that level of love which is Kodesh Kodashim so we may yet merit to once again admire the ultimate holiness that comes from the Holy of Holies, the Kodesh HaKodashim, with the building of the everlasting Temple in Jerusalem.

Men, Women, and Megillah

[This is not as much a Purim dvar Torah, as much as it is a thought related to the title, using examples from Megillat Esther.]

Emotional vs Intellectual decision making

By Rabbi Avi Billet

I don’t care very much to compare women and men simply because I think the comparison isn't fair. Human we all are, but other than the obvious physical differences, I believe that the natural differences that come from being different genders make comparisons ill-conceived. It's almost like comparing a tennis player to a soccer player, wondering which is a better athlete.

I first heard the following generalization from one Rabbi W/Vunder who was one of the rabbis on the Heritage Tours trip to Poland that I participated in as a teenager, when I noticed Israeli girls weeping in Auschwitz while I was scribbling in my notebook and keeping my emotions to myself. He said, "That's the way it is. Girls are more emotional." The generalization is more supported in a simple Google search than the other way around, and it follows that males – in general, though by no means exclusively – make more decisions based on a rational or intellectual thought process, while females are (generally, though not exclusively) more prone to making decisions based on emotions.

            

With that in mind, I confess that this past week, in advance of one of my public speaking engagements, I happened to run some of the ideas past my wife, who told me that one of the thoughts I planned to share – though heavily sourced in a comment of Tosafos (Yoma 72a) as well as by many Rabbinic sources from the last several centuries – was anachronistic and inappropriate for the intended audience. 

Was her response emotional or highly thought out? It may have been both. But I can say with certainty that my defense was purely emotional. What's wrong with it, I argued! Every person who studied in yeshiva knows this! Yes, she responded, but your audience is not a bunch of yeshiva guys. I realized I was letting my emotions dictate what my intellect was telling me should be OK to share. The emotion versus intellect roles, it seems, had been reversed.

As luck would have it a rabbi I admire happened to approach me before I spoke. I quickly asked his advice to which he responded quoting Bereshit 21:12: "All that your wife Sarah has told you, listen to her voice!" And I did. They were both right.

With all this background, I think there are two very worthy points we can take from Megillat Esther which can play a significant role in the male-female relationship: the first for spouses and the second for those looking to find spouses.

The Megillah is full of characters who are impulsive, who make every decision based on their emotions. Arguably the only exceptions to this are Mordechai explaining to Esther how she can not shirk her opportunity to save her people (which causes Esther to change her emotional response to an intellectual response), and Haman's wife Zeresh who lays out for her husband a logistical plan for how to rid himself of the nuisance called Mordechai who literally ruins Haman's day every time he refuses to bow. She tells him, "Make a wood [gallows] 50 cubits high, and in the morning you will tell the king, Mordechai will be hanged, and you will come to [Esther's second] party happy." (Esther 5:14)

The king's insomnia may have uncovered his obligation to Mordechai for saving his life, but he may have chosen to honor Mordechai in a different way had Haman not shown up in the middle of the night and gotten tricked into playing into the king's "trap." Even if Mordechai had been otherwise rewarded that night, without a personal parade and Haman's disgrace, were Haman to come along in the morning to say, "Since saving your life, Mordechai has become a traitor!" there is a reasonable chance to say the king might have allowed the execution after he had paid his debt to the man.

But everything changed for Haman because of his problem; he did not listen to his wife! His wife said, "Sleep on it. Wait until the morning." But he had no patience. He let his emotions overtake him, and they told him, "You have to do this now." Intellectually it made sense, but the intellect was really driven by the emotion.

The moral of the story: If your wife gives you good, sound advice, take it and follow it.

The second lesson about relationships is based on a comment made by Rabbi Elijah Kramer, the Gaon of Vilna (Gra), when Achashveirosh crowns Esther queen. "Esther was brought to the king in the tenth month, Tevet, in the seventh year of his reign. And of all the women, the king loved Esther, for she found favor and kindness before him… and he placed the crown on her head, making her queen in place of Vashti." (Esther 2:16-17)

The Gra wrote, "He crowned her immediately, without waiting to see if there might be one more pleasing than she. He told himself there is none better than she."

One can argue that a man who has spent every day with a different woman for four years either knows everything about women, doesn't know what he's looking to find, or knows exactly what he is looking for in a woman.

In light of the Gra's interpretation, my vote is for the final possibility because I believe that the "Maybe there is someone better" attitude is one of the most destructive approaches to "shidduchim" out there. Too many people play games with others' time and lives because they don't really know what they are looking to find.

We can learn from Achashveirosh, however, to know what you're looking to find so that when it comes your way there need not be hesitation. Go for it. Work at it. Make it work. Lightning doesn't strike. Bells and whistles don't sound. You just know. You make a decision, a commitment, and then a "go" at a life together. And with God's help, it lasts a lifetime.

And when men listen to the sage voice of "all that Sarah says to you," (not that men don't have good advice, ideas, suggestions and encouragement to provide as well – it does take two to tango, after all) we can come out looking great for doing the right thing.

            

And our relationship is only strengthened as a result.

            

Kiddush Club Follow Up + a Pre-Purim Note

Around two months ago I wrote out a "shiur" about the problems with Kiddush Clubs in the middle of davening. My basic approach is that drinking in moderation is acceptable in the right time and place, and with the right behavior. But that time is not in shul, in the middle of davening.

Since then, the Wall Street Journal featured a front-page article about Kiddush Clubs (reproduced below) which you can either find entertaining, interesting, disturbing, revolting, or anything in between - all depending on your outlook with regard to hard alcohol, excess, and tremendous amounts of money and attention being given to "Kiddush" in synagogues: places of worship that are supposed to be avenues for the spirit, not spirits. [Yes, that is my father quoted in the article. He told me he had been contacted a few days after I had posted my thoughts on Kiddush Clubs - though the WSJ research timing was apparently coincidental to my posting about it.]

In advance of Purim, Rabbi Marc Angel has written a blog post about drinking entitled "Sobering Thoughts For Purim - And Every Day" which is worth the read.

I don't need to steal from Rabbi Angel's thunder, but in case you don't click on his piece, his point is that while there is certainly a concept or custom to drink some wine on Purim (note I said WINE), the "mitzvah to get drunk" is a horrible mistake. Drink a little more than you might normally drink (which in my case translates to very little to begin with as the only time I drink wine is at Shabbos and Yom Tov meals), and be RESPONSIBLE. There is no mitzvah that advocates putting yourself or anyone else in danger. Even when fasting on Yom Kippur, if your life is in danger from not eating, you are required to eat.

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From the WALL STREET JOURNAL, February 8, 2013

After These Jewish Prayer Services, Things Come 'To Life' at Open Bar

To Woo Worshippers, Synagogues Compete With Food and Booze; Hosting in the Hamptons

by Lucette Lagnado

Come Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath, the atmosphere at Rabbi Sholom Lipskar's synagogue near Bal Harbour, Fla., turns festive. The eating and drinking start early.

Very early.

The synagogue, called The Shul, attracts anywhere from 500 to 800 people each week. Most attend services in the main sanctuary that start around 9 a.m. But some early birds show up for prayers that begin at 7:15 a.m. and conclude by 9:15. Then it is party time for the largely male crowd.

This elegant seaside place of worship is on the cutting edge of the Kiddush—a lavish repast that has helped transform the staid postservice fellowship hour to the kind of boozy, over-the-top spread synonymous with weddings.

Such affairs have become so de rigueur to luring congregants that Rabbi Lipskar has solicited donors for a special "Kiddush bank" to fund the pricey libations and epicurean fare that can cost anywhere from $1,800 to $3,600 per 

"It is perfect," says Rabbi Lipskar, whose synagogue is part of the Hasidic Lubavitch movement. "God didn't make the delicious stuff only for non-Jews." Those who want a shot of hard liquor—they don't say "let's have a drink," but "let's have a L'chaim," he says, referring to the traditional Jewish toast "to life."

"This is not a drinking fest," he adds. "The drinks are in small cups."

In the face of dwindling attendance at religious services, many rabbis have become similarly creative. At the Bal Harbour shul and other synagogues, the sumptuous food, fine wines and liquors are a way to help draw congregants.

As early as January, Rabbi Marc Schneier was already well into planning his synagogue's summer worship in New York's posh Hamptons community. He is lining up guest speakers, interviewing assistant rabbis—and considering ways to improve on the martini bar.

The "L'chaim" table of high-price spirits is the most popular feature of The Hampton Synagogue's Saturday summer service. "There is always vodka, an assortment of single malts, tequila," says Robert Fisher, a friend of the rabbi who serves as adviser on food and drink.

Rabbi Schneier notes that the fetes don't get overly boisterous. It is all about the "M-word," he insists—not martinis, but "moderation."

The same might not be said about the food. One weekend the entrees included pan-seared sesame salmon and sliced steak with horseradish cream. There is always seafood salad—the rabbi's favorite dish—albeit made with pollock and whiting since the congregation adheres to kosher laws banning shellfish. The "herring bar" features 12 different variations named after each of the Twelve Tribes of Israel.

Raising a glass during or after services isn't strictly an Orthodox phenomenon, says Rabbi Gerald Skolnik, who is president of the Rabbinical Assembly, the umbrella group of Conservative rabbis. Among both Conservative and Orthodox Jews, he has witnessed what he calls "the cult of alcohol on Sabbath morning in shul," which means men leaving even during prayers to have a drink with their buddies. As kosher certifications for wine and spirits have exploded, observant Jews have had access to finer wines—and they have 

"Finding a really good Kiddush—that's a blood sport in the Jewish community," says Rabbi Skolnik, who presides at the Forest Hills Jewish Center in Queens, New York City.

Lincoln Square Synagogue on Manhattan's West Side was a mob scene last Saturday as congregants gathered in the elegant new $50 million sanctuary to pray and then descended on the "Gala Kiddush"—an array of gourmet dishes piled high on different table—meant to help draw new members to the institution.

"It is very competitive," says Ora Hamelsdorf, one of two people assigned to oversee the Kiddush.

The Orthodox synagogue's newsletter announced the formation of its own "L'Chaim Club," asking members to contribute $100 for the purchase of liquor. In doing so, the bulletin added, a person can partake of the booze "guilt-free."

It wasn't always this way. Traditionally, Kiddush consisted of some "stale sponge cake and Tam-Tam crackers," with a smattering of herring, says Rabbi Schneier. It was a modest interlude, like its Christian counterpart, the church coffee hour.

"Once upon a time, some people went to synagogue to talk to God. Nowadays, more and more people come to see their friends," says Jonathan Sarna, a professor of American Jewish history at Brandeis University. The prayers and sermons "are a distraction. Conviviality goes better with a drink."

Beth Jacob Congregation of Beverly Hills has six different Kiddushes on any given Saturday, corresponding with different services, including one for "young professionals." But the rabbi, Kalman Topp, says the growing trend is to have "breakaway Kiddushes" beyond synagogue walls. These are held in people's homes and typically are men-only, with liquor being a big attraction.

"It usually involves quality whiskey," says Rabbi Topp. "The perception is, the more expensive the bottle, the more prestigious the Kiddush."

In Westhampton, N.Y., Rabbi Schneier's synagogue has private sponsors each week who shell out $7,200 for food and $1,800 or more for the ever-changing bar—which may, incidentally, include rum-based mojitos, Champagne-infused Bellinis and the like. The L'chaim liquor table costs an additional $1,800—so the total can exceed $10,000 for a single Sabbath. Despite the steep cost, there are always eager sponsors, says the rabbi.

Last year in Bal Harbour, one donor made an unusual contribution. Each Friday afternoon, on the eve of the Sabbath, his driver appeared carrying a leather suitcase with a giant 1.75 liter bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue label tucked inside. At the Saturday Kiddush, a special volunteer handed out shot glasses of the $500 scotch. "It went pretty fast," Rabbi Lipskar says. 

Some of the faithful cast a cold eye on such excess. "It is very upsetting. It is not in keeping with Jewish standards of modesty," says Rabbi Tzvi Hersh Weinreb, executive vice president emeritus of the Orthodox Union, an umbrella organization for Orthodox congregations.

Neither does Rabbi Hershel Billet, of Woodmere, N.Y., approve of heavy drinking as a part of synagogue culture. He recalls how, a few years ago, men were getting up and leaving in the middle of his own services. "They'd return drunk, loud. It had to stop," he says.

While he himself likes a glass of fine wine, he decided to ban liquor in the synagogue several years ago. Some members left in protest.

Meanwhile, Kiddush in the Hamptons is shaping up to be more upscale than ever. On a recent evening, Rabbi Schneier and Mr. Fisher brainstormed about the season ahead, which starts on Mother's Day weekend and lasts till Thanksgiving.

"Do you think we could have a Kentucky Derby Kiddush?" Mr. Fisher muses. Some summer residents start the season early by coming to check on their homes. "We could serve mint juleps," he says. The women, he imagines, could don fancy hats.

The Cover That Needs Support

Parshat Terumah

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Concluding his commentary on 26:34, the Netziv comments "v'ein davar rik baTorah," there is no worthless item in the Torah. In other words, every detail in the Torah, from the choice of a word here versus there, or even a seemingly additional letter, has depth to it. Those who study "Scripture" alone will never understand this, and those who choose to study using translations will miss the nuances. Let us explore the depth of a seemingly subtle nuance.

            

Arguably the most prominent of the vessels of the Mishkan is the Aron – the Ark – which has different descriptions at different times: Hakodesh (the Holy Ark), HaBrit (Ark of the Covenant), HaEidut (Ark of the Testimony – housing the Tablets).

            

It is mentioned twice in our parsha, along with the cover – the Kapporet – which adorned its top. 25:10-22 describes how they are to be made, with 25:16 explaining that the Luchot will be placed in it, followed by placing the cover on top. [I'll leave you to research why the Luchot placement is repeated five verses later in 25:21]

            

Chapter 26 explains that the curtain which cordons off the Holy of Holies (HoH) will be put in place, after which the Aron will be brought in to the HoH uncovered, followed by the Kapporet being placed on top – inside the HoH (26:33-34).

            

When it comes time to put everything together, Moshe is instructed to erect the Mishkan, to then place the Aron HaEidut (Ark of the Testimony) in its spot, and then to raise the dividing curtain (40:2-3) (no mention of the Kapporet). When he actually puts it all together, Moshe puts up the walls of the Mishkan, places the Luchot in the Aron, puts the poles in their rings, and then he closes the Aron with the Kapporet. The Aron is then brought into the Mishkan, seemingly complete, and the curtain is hung up, designating the Aron's area as the HoH. (40:20-21)

            

That he changes the order of the original instructions when he puts all together (covering the Aron outside the HoH) is not surprising – the original instruction was more about making the items than about how to erect the Mishkan (Ramban 26:33). But according to the Netziv's line with which we opened, there is depth to be found in the instructions which seem to indicate the Aron will not be going into the HoH complete with cover, but will achieve its completeness only after it has been brought to its resting place.

            

Netziv asks about the extra word in 25:21 when we are told that the Kapporet will be placed on the Aron "m'il'maalah" - "from above" – as if there is another way the Kapporet could rest on the Aron.

            

The instruction to Moshe was that when he brings the Aron into the HoH, uncovered, the Ark will be called the 'Ark of the Testimony' – a term used to describe the Ark when the Luchot are visible. The Kapporet is to be on top of the Aron in some manner, but not fit in place. It is to be placed on "from above" (25:21) so that the Aron will not be brought rotated at a 90 degree angle – with the opening facing sideways while one of its sides faces upward, supporting the not-yet-positioned Kapporet during transport. Rather, the Ark enters the HoH in the position that it will be placed on the floor, just with the Kapporet, the rectangular cover, placed perpendicular to its proper positioning.

            

Netziv concludes that this was the order, consistent with the instruction and with the actual placing: the curtain was hung up, but not solidified in place; then the poles were inserted in the Ark, then the Kapporet was placed on top (not in its exact position), the Ark was brought into the HoH, and the Kapporet was straightened out once the Aron was resting in its spot in the HoH. The curtain was then tweaked to solidify the distinction between the Holy and the HoH.

            

In 40:20, Netziv goes into further detail, essentially describing the Ark as "Aron HaKodesh" only when it is sitting in the HoH with its cover properly positioned (which might make it not 'the Holy Ark,' but 'The Ark of the Holy (of Holies)').

            

The message of the Aron not being completely covered until it is in its resting place in the HoH, according to Netziv, is one spanning all eternity. The Ark is the "Ark of the Testimony" when it is not where it belongs, and as long as the Luchot are still visible. Symbolically, this means that the concept of the Ark is to bear witness to the event of Revelation, the connection between God and the Jewish people, and that the Luchot, or whatever represents them, should be visible to us as long as there is no Mikdash to house the Aron in a closed up room entered once a year.

The Kapporet was placed above the Aron incorrectly, requiring support to avoid falling during transit to the HoH. So too, anyone who is going to support Torah must be standing at the sides, ready in waiting, to see that the cover of the Torah does not fall. This is particularly important in times when the Aron is not in the Mishkan or the Mikdash.

            

The effort to support Torah in our day-to-day existence requires resilience and affirmation. Even when we are living dedicated Torah-oriented lives, we need to bear in mind that without the Mikdash, we can never achieve completeness – the cover of the Aron needs support so it can serve its purpose – first to bear witness (when uncovered), and hopefully to one day serve as a channel for representing the greatest holiness in our lives, when the real Aron, the Aron HaKodesh, complete with cover, once again rests on the floor of the Mikdash HaShlishi, the Third Temple.

When the Cherubs guard the Luchot in their proper position, they serve as a model for the relationship between God and the Jewish people. We look to them for guidance and inspiration in our continued efforts to get closer to the Divine.

To Protect Others From Falling

Parshat Mishpatim 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

תלמוד בבלי מסכת יומא דף פז עמוד א - 

וכל המחטיא את הרבים אין מספיקין בידו לעשות תשובה 

"If a man (though it likely refers to man or woman) opens a pit, or uncovers a pit, and does not cover it (i.e. leaves it uncovered when not working on it), and an ox or donkey fall into it, the owner of the pit (e.g. the one who opened it) must pay money to the owner of the animal, and the [animal's] carcass belongs to him." (21:33-34)

Rashbam spells out the debate regarding to whom the carcass belongs – to whom does "to him" refer? The overall consensus seems to be that the owner is paid and keeps the carcass (Rashi and others). Chizkuni proposes that since the damager is paying in full, he gets to keep the carcass.

I am taking a homiletical leap off the page, because there is a deep lesson that can be taken from the principle involved in this case. The pit is essentially a stumbling block before an unsuspecting being – in this case an animal unprepared to take a potentially dangerous fall – which renders the one responsible for creating the stumbling block as responsible for the ensuing damages which result from the carelessness. The debate over who keeps the carcass can be translated to reflect an idea that both people – the one who causes the stumble (a sin to be committed) as well as the unsuspecting "owner" of the fallen entity (the ensuing "sin") - have ownership over the "carcass," or the sin that wallows in its own negative state.

The Mishnah in Bava Kama 26a says "Adam Muad L'olam," that a person is always responsible for one's choices and actions. Generally this refers to the financial obligations one has for damaging another's property – willfully or accidentally. Even if I leave someone's item on my night-table and accidentally knock it over while I am sleeping, I am responsible. I should have left it in a safer place.

The exception to the rule are cases of "oness" (אונס) – where I am blameless because I was behaving properly and someone else caused me to damage something. If I break something because someone throws me on it, or places it in front of my car as I am driving, or smashes against my property in a manner that is their own fault, I am blameless.

There are many stumbling blocks that we face on a regular basis – it is part of living in a real world. We are tempted with our eyes, we are tempted to gossip, we are tempted to break laws – including those we don't like (e.g. taxes) and those that don't make any sense (e.g. some traffic laws). We are tempted to have the greatest comeback lines, to hurt people with words, and even to hurt people physically.

            

How often do we hear public figures apologizing for things they have said, apologizing for having "misspoken," or for saying things they didn't really mean? (Think Chuck Hagel)

            

When we are loud and obnoxious, we cause others to think ill of us, tempt them to speak lashon hara about us, and may cause them to violate "Do not hate your brother in your heart" (Vayikra 19:17).

            

When we don't take care of ourselves, in appearance (looking shlumpy) and being morbidly obese (excluding reasonable "overweight," and real medical conditions), we cause others to stare, to talk about us, and to judge us. (See Ramban on Vayikra 19:2)

           

When we are scrupulous (or not) about certain stringencies (cholov yisrael in America comes to mind), if we claim those who are not stringent are eating "non-kosher," or say about those who are stringent that they are "totally crazy," we are spreading slander and causing others to look askance at people who are doing nothing wrong.

When we dress provocatively, we invite others to have inappropriate thoughts about us, to look at things they should not be enticed to look at, and to possibly sin in their hearts and minds. People certainly make private choices about how to act upon the things they see – in billboards, in magazines, and on the internet, etc. But that is between them and God. Certainly if they take action involving another person, that becomes their own fault as well. But if we are at fault for causing the private behaviors on account of our choices, those of us who put others in this kind of spiritual harm's way are to blame for the stumbling block, and must "pay" for enticing others to fall. Even if everyone dresses that way at the gym, beach or swimming pool.

  

We live in a world that is challenging enough. With social media, a camera on everything we own, and the ability to share thoughts and messages instantly and worldwide at the click of a button, we must not only be extra careful about what we share and how we share it, but extra careful about how we present ourselves and how others perceive us on account of those choices.

            

There are times when people "check themselves" in my presence, from language choices, or content-of-comment choices, saying things like, "Sorry, rabbi." Why? Am I more obligated to curb my behavior than you are? Am I judging you? Or does my title remind you that there's a Higher Being to Whom we bow, so to speak, and before Whom we must answer one day for our choices?

Any real "Rabbi" will be the first to tell you that rabbis are flawed humans like everyone else, and have similar challenges in terms of stumbling blocks we all face. Everyone "klops Al Cheit" on Yom Kippur. Some rabbis (as well as many devout Jews) take the reminder of the fallout – repercussions from bad choices – seriously, and choose to behave properly as much as possible.

But we all have an obligation to consider the repercussions of the things we say, how we speak, and the ways in which we present ourselves to others in language, dress and commitment to God, in our avoidance of placing pits before others, causing them to stumble.

The donkey and ox are not looking or wanting to step into a pit to injure themselves or die. And those who are exposed to the behaviors that cause them to "fall" would usually prefer to not be tempted by those of us, particularly Torah-observant Jews, who should know better than to present such pitfalls before others who share similar responsibilities in our efforts to maintain a Godly existence.

What are you going to do with the "carcass" of the sin you caused another to commit?