Proper Education: Tumah and the Shema

Parshat Emor

by Rabbi Avi Billet

"And God said to Moshe, 'Say to the Kohanim, the sons of Aharon, and say to them, they should not become 'tameh' to people of the nation.'" (Vayikra 23:1)

            

The opening instruction in our parsha is for the kohanim to learn that they must follow a strict behavior, in which under ordinary circumstances they can only become "tameh" to a dead body if the deceased is one of the seven close relatives.

But the language utilized to relay this rule is strange. Instead of informing us that "God spoke (Vay'daber) to Moshe to say" the Torah says, "God said (Vayomer) to Moshe, "Say…" (Emor) And then it repeats the root word meaning "say" with the instruction of "V'amarta" – you will say to them.

            

Ramban says there is nothing special to be learned from this language. Emor is the same as Daber – it's a call to gather, listen and pay attention.

            

Yet one wonders, since there is a difference between the word "Daber" – Speak! and "Emor" – Say. "Speak" means you will address them saying the following idea, perhaps in your own words. "Say" means, "Here is a script you must follow."

            

The out-of-the-ordinary repetition of the root "Emor" is brought to our attention by Rashi, who, quoting a gemara (end of Yevamot 114a), says "'Emor... V'Amarta' comes to tell the big people (adults) to teach the little people (children) about the laws of tumah."

            

The midrashic book compiled in the Geonic period, Pitron Torah, explains that the first "say" teaches kohanim not to become tameh. The second "say" teaches kohanim the exception: if a kohen happens to come across a "met mitzvah" – a corpse on the road – he is to bury the body.

            

When Maimonides discusses the teaching of the Gemara (Hilchot Eivel 3:12), he says that a kohen-minor is to be taught not to become tameh. And while if he chooses to become tameh himself the court is not commanded to have him desist from being in a tameh arena, his father must educate him in the ways of "kedushah" – the holiness and sanctity that he must maintain as a kohen.

            

The Ta"z makes a similar point in Y"D 373, when he pinpoints the word "chinukh" as being the primary mode of operation determining the adult's responsibility to each child. The Pischei Teshuvah defines "chinukh" in his own comment on the Shulchan Arukh there as teaching so that "he can be punctilious in his fulfillment of the mitzvah when he reaches majority." ("she'yizaher l'kayem hamitzvah k'she'yagdil")

            

The kohen certainly has a job to educate his son in the ways of kohen responsibilities - in addition to the laws of tumah. For example, kohen children should be taught by their fathers how to duchen, and all kohanim must be sure that when they duchen they do so correctly (see Shulchan Arukh OC 128:8-end).

            

But "chinukh" is not confined to kohanim and their children. It is within the purview of all parents to properly educate their children, so that when their children reach majority they will know how to fulfill their mitzvah responsibilities properly.

            

Let us take a look at one of the first mitzvot we train our children to fulfill. While there are no official statistics, in my own work with children, I have found approximately 85% are being trained incorrectly. The flaw may lie in teachers, schools, parents or children. Or, perhaps, a combination of all four.

            

Some people may follow the Shulchan Arukh Orach Chaim 62:1, who says that even though it is a mitzvah to be exact in the reading of the Shema, if one is not perfectly exact, one fulfills one's obligation. But the Mishnah Brurah there says this is referring to all the subtleties that are raised in the entire Siman 61 about how to read the Shema punctiliously, precisely, and perfectly. However, if words or letters are outright misread, the Shema is being read improperly and the mitzvah is not fulfilled.

The problem is so pervasive that I even heard it on the "Shema @ Bed" app I have my daughter use to help her with the evening Shema.

            

In the first paragraph alone, most people make at least one mistake, and most children make at least two others. After the opening two sentences, the first word is "v'ahavTA," with the accent on the last syllable. Reading it this way means, "You shall love Hashem your God." When the accent is placed on the second to last syllable ("v'aHAVta") the words means "and you loved Hashem your God" in the past tense. This is one of many accent errors people make in reading Shema.

            

The other two very common mistakes are on words that are learned through listening and repeating, sounding out what (kids think) they hear, and not reading the words they are saying. The second to last word of the phrase "B'shiv'tkha B'veitekha uv'lekh't'kha baderekh u'v'shokh'b'kha uv'kumekha" is so commonly read as "B'shov't'kha" one can likely attribute it to confusion with the first word of the phrase as quoted as they now sound so similar. But there is a big difference between saying that you must review the words of the Shema "when you are laying down" (b'shokh'b'kha = the correct way) than "when you are returning" (B'shov't'kha = the incorrect way).

            

The last very common mistake is made when the first word of the last sentence of the first paragraph (and again when it appears in the second paragraph) is read as if it's the same as the first word of the previous sentence. We are told to tie the tefillin (u'k'shartam) and to write the mezuzah (u'kh'tavtam). Despite what many kids say when they read the Shema, we are not commanded to tie the mezuzah to the doorpost – u'k'shartam al mezuzot beitekha…

            

Perhaps all the emphasis on the root "Emor" (to say) at the opening of the parsha stands as a reminder that proper chinukh takes place when we take the time to say what needs to be said and to be heard. And, perhaps, in the case where the mitzvah is fulfilled through saying something, and following a script exactly, making sure it is said correctly.

            

Test your children. Be shocked or pleasantly surprised. Complain to the school or do not. Fix the problem if you can. (Shulchan Arukh 61:24 recommends leining the Shema every time!) Do proper Chinukh, making sure they read the words from the siddur so that when they reach the age of mitzvot, they can fulfill the mitzvah of reading the Shema properly.

After the Deaths of the Righteous - Speak!

A response to the week of the Boston bombing, the tragedy in West, TX, and a local tragedy in Boca Raton, FL, [this last article is referenced in the text below], concluding with a personal tribute on the occasion of a yarzeit

Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor (A sermon)

          There is an expression in Hebrew that combines the names of our parshas this week and next - Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor – after the deaths of the righteous speak. Some view it as an ironic statement introducing what you say before eulogizing one who wasn't righteous.

          But some take it as a statement which reflects a reality – after the death of the righteous it is a time to speak, to reflect, and to take note. And it is that focus which I would like to apply to my words this morning.

          The story is told of Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach – when asked by a yeshiva bochur if it was bittul torah to travel three hours up to Tiveriah, Tzfat, Meron, etc. to daven by the mekomot ha-kedoshim there, Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach replied that he should daven by the kedoshim here in Jerusalem, buried at Har Herzl.

Between the reflections of Yom HaZikaron in Israel, and the loss of innocents in Boston and in West, Texas, as well as the tragedy which befell the South Florida Jewish community when a 12 year old girl was killed in a traffic accident in Boca on Monday, it is a real opportunity to fulfill "Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor."

When innocent people die in accidents or in senseless acts of terror – and it became clear yesterday even to those who thought it might have been "domestic" that the latest Boston Massacre was a result of terrorism – we, the good citizens of the world, are left to wonder, what is going on on this earth?

We are left to question the ways of God, knowing we will not find answers.

We are once again faced with the impossible-to-answer-question of why bad things happen to good people.

The Sefirat HaOmer period has become a yearly reminder of tragedy, as many of our brothers and sisters observe customs of mourning to commemorate the "era that never was" on account of the deaths of Rabbi Akiva's students. Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor.

People of faith do not seek to find answers – because there is but one answer. There is a Master of the Universe. He knows what He is doing. He understands the big picture. He has the benefit of the wide lens. And the luxury of time.

In time, some of us may see or understand. Some of us might only understand when our bodies have left us and we are soaring souls. Some of us may wander and wonder for the rest of our days and never achieve the clarity we so yearn for right now.

Perhaps the clarity is too painful. Perhaps seeing and knowing are things we are not quite ready to do.

Parshas Acharei Mos begins with instructions given to Aharon for how to conduct himself in his most special role as Kohen Gadol, on the Holiest Day of the year, Yom Kippur. The instructions came after the deaths of Nadav and Avihu – it's a painful pill for Aharon to swallow. But he must also learn from their mistakes - what not to do. In fact it's the first thing he's told "וְאַל יָבֹא בְכָל עֵת אֶל הַקֹּדֶשׁ מִבֵּית לַפָּרֹכֶת אֶל פְּנֵי הַכַּפֹּרֶת אֲשֶׁר עַל הָאָרֹן וְלֹא יָמוּת כִּי בֶּעָנָן אֵרָאֶה עַל הַכַּפֹּרֶת:" Don't come to the Holy of Holies at any time – as your sons tried to do! Don't die doing the service! Come one day a year, in the manner which will be described.

Is this pouring salt in Aharon's wounds? It's hard to say, as the Torah paints Nadav and Avihu here in a positive light: בְּקָרְבָתָם לִפְנֵי יְקֹוָק וַיָּמֻתוּ: - that as they were getting very close to God they died -  Perhaps even suggesting that while the death of loved ones is painful for those who are left behind to mourn, maybe sometimes death is a gift to the person who dies.

Rabbi Goldberg from the Boca Raton Synagogue wrote an incredible tribute to the 12-year old girl and her parents,which was featured on Aish.com. He quoted her father, Rabbi Stern, who, in his eulogy for his daughter expressed gratitude to those who have helped his family at this difficult time. More remarkably, he offered words of gratitude to the Almighty Himself for sharing Shoshi with them, even if it was only for 12 short years."

This is Acharei Mos Kedoshim Emor.

The Sterns even told the police to reach out to the driver, who after the traffic investigation was deemed to have done nothing wrong and was not charged, and to tell him “Please, I beg of you, get in touch with him and tell him that we are people of faith, we believe in God and we know that this was not his fault. Please,” she said, “tell him not to allow this to ruin the rest of his life.”

I have heard similar sentiments expressed by parents of Israeli soldiers who are killed by friendly fire. They say, we forgive you, we love you, we know what you are going through. And we accept it as the will of God.

Acharei Mos Kedoshim Emor.

In Parshas Kedoshim, we have an interesting conglomerate of laws and instructions. In some ways there are connections and themes, but for the most part it is an interesting mixed bag of laws. However, there are a few laws which refer to the treatment of a Ger = a stranger who lives among you. I do not believe it refers to a convert, because to me, what we call a convert is a "Jew." A ger, therefore is a ger Toshav – a person who has accepted to be a Noahide, who lives in your land, accepts your autonomy, follows your civil laws, but is not a Jew.

Our commandments regarding the Ger are to leave some produce in the field for him, as well as for the poor, not to oppress him, and that he should be treated like a regular Ezrach – a citizen – and ואהבת לו כמוך.

But there is a caveat. He must behave as an Ezrach. Because we read immediately at the beginning of the next Perek, that a Ger who gives his child to Molech, to idolatry, to an ideal so antithetical to our cause and peoplehood, he is to be killed by the people of the land.

And while I believe our justice system in the United States is pretty good – it isn't perfect, what is? – I don't believe we are strong enough with people who choose to live here but live an anti-American life. The individuals apparently responsible for the Boston Massacre, were apparently legal residents of the United States. But this does not matter - they are not "gerim" who are Ezrachim who are deserving of the liberties afforded to basic criminals.

Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor – we must speak truth that evil people who are looking to harm innocent people – Kedoshim sometimes means Holy, but it also means separate, and perhaps even elite – which we can say about people who can run a marathon in 4 hours – they are kadosh in distinguishing themselves in their training, their devotion, their drive, their stamina, and their dedication to get to that 26^th point second mile – the evil and destructive people are not even deserving of a civil trial. They get what they deserve – ובערת הרע מקרבך.

 It is insulting that anyone might waiver and say, even before yesterday's revelations, that this "might not be terrorism." It must be shouted that "This is terrorism and the person or people responsible are not only not welcome in this land, but if you perpetrate crimes of this manner, this is worse than espionage and is punishable – כאשר עשו כן יעשו להם."

If you don't stand for peace in your own borders, the Torah tells us, the civil unrest – INTERNALLY! – will destroy you and everything you stand for.

As for those in West, Texas – It's a terrible tragedy. We pray for them to be able to pick up from the devastation, we mourn for the loss of innocent life, and we hope better times will come for them in the proper time.

Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor. Say the right words. At the minimum be sympathetic and empathetic. And if at all possible, do whatever you can to help.

The Gemara in Brachos 5a warns us that when a person sees tragedies hitting him, Yefashfesh B'maasav. He must examine his deeds. This may apply on a personal level, a family level, a community level, or even a city, state, national or even international level.

In his eulogy on Aish.com Rabbi Goldberg similarly noted the practice of the sages: "If one of the members of the community has tragically died, the entire community should be anxious, worried and concerned."

          While this is not to suggest that we as a community, as a shul or as a People are responsible for any of these events – we don't know the ways of God – nonetheless we are left to look at our deeds, care more for one another – certainly internally, but also to be good neighbors and good citizens. To carry ourselves with dignity and to conduct ourselves with courtesy and respect for others.

Sometimes it is hard. Sometimes we are treated badly. Sometimes the sharp retort feels like the most pleasurable thing to say in a particular moment.

But we must resist and be the best we can be.

Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor. Innocent people die – we must reflect on the frailty of life and remember how quickly it can be taken away. We must make the most of our relationships, appreciate our spouses, children, parents. We must maximize how we utilize our time – for pleasure, of course, but more importantly for spiritual pursuits and endeavors. We are here in shul on a lovely weekend, for example, because that is important to us. Instead of looking at a clock, perhaps we can benefit from telling ourselves we don't spend enough time here, that maybe we need to be in shul as much as we can, to provide the nourishment that fills the needs of our souls.

I want to conclude with a brief tribute to a man who I witnessed, even in my short time knowing him, living this way.

The founding gabbai of Anshei Chesed was Elie Frances, of blessed memory. A more dedicated shul man you couldn't find. Loving his gabbaius, caring about the seder hatefillah, dotting the Is and crossing the Ts of making the experience at the bimah and in the kahal a smooth experience for all.

He was a hidden child during WWII, and he made up for his lost years of Jewish education in ways we could not imagine. He was a wonderful, sincere, baal tefillah – particularly on the Yomim Noraim, when he graced us with his sincerity and heartfelt emotion on the High Holidays.

I remember watching him once thinking "he could do this for another 30 years – he loves it so much." But it was not to be. His final months passed too quickly. He leaves a void in this shul that those who knew him well feel on a regular basis.

Leah is one of the Kiddush sponsors today on the occasion of Elie's yarzeit. We join you in wishing his neshama to have the aliyahs that our brachos will give. We also thank you for continuing to bring the Frances grace and charm to our shul. It's a little different on the women's side of the mechitzah, but what you bring to our shul is a lot more than a smooth davening experience. And we are grateful that you have found the strength to come and to participate in the way you do.

Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor gives the responsibility to the living to speak well of those who are gone, to have important conversation of how we can be מקדש שם שמים, and hopefully bring about an era in which tragedies – whether seemingly man-made or man-provoked, or coming from God himself, need not impact those about whom we care the most.

Acharei Mot Kedoshim Emor  – it is our hope that you can continue to Emor – to speak of Elie and to remember him in this fashion – whether as a tribute to enhance the davening experience or a tribute to enhance the learning experiences that others will undertake in his name.

תנצבה.

Prohibition of Consuming Blood: Of the Dead, AND of the Living

I wrote this before the Boston Massacre and the events in West, Texas and MIT this week. It is my response to the "scandal" involving Rabbi Michael Broyde that I learned of last Shabbos, and which was all the rage on the internet before the Boston Marathon. My sermon this week will address these issues.
Condolences to the Stern family on account of their tragedy this week.

Acharei Mot - Kedoshim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

William Faulkner was a master of writing single sentences that span an entire page. Though they run on and on, the sentences could not be marked as "run-on" by a grammar teacher. It is a unique skill possessed by the loquacious, which marvels readers.

            

The longest sentence I am aware of in the Torah has 34 words in it (Shmot 32:1). The Torah certainly doesn't hold its breath in making a point. And sometimes takes several sentences to do so. But sometimes one has to wonder why the Torah goes on and on about something which could otherwise be expressed in much fewer words.

            

Towards the end of Vayikra 17, the Torah tells us (as it does in Bereishit 9, Vayikra 3, 7, 19 and Devarim 12) not to eat blood. Were I to write such a commandment, I would write once "You may not eat blood of humans or animals." Pretty clear.

            

But the Torah does not do this. In addition to writing about it 5 times, in three different books, the Torah says the following in our parsha:

"If any person, whether of the family of Israel or a proselyte who joins them, eats any blood, I will direct My anger against the person who eats blood and cut him off [spiritually] from among his people. This is because the life-force of the flesh is in the blood; and I therefore gave it to you to be [placed] on the altar to atone for your lives. It is the blood that atones for a life, and I therefore told the Israelites, 'Let none of you eat blood.' A proselyte who joins you shall [likewise] not eat blood. If any man, whether of the family of Israel or a proselyte who joins them, traps an animal or bird that may be eaten and spills its blood, he must cover [the blood] with earth.  [All this] is because every living creature has its blood associated with its life-force. Tell the Israelites not to eat any blood, since the life-force of all flesh is in its blood. Whoever eats it shall be cut off [spiritually]."         (Vayikra 17:10-14)

Not only is the prohibition very clear, but the other factors thrown in essentially amount to the same idea: "A Jewish person may not eat blood."

Perhaps the message behind the over-and-over element of these instructions is reflective of another prohibition we have in our double parsha – Vayikra 19:16, "Do not stand idly over the blood of your neighbor."

All of these images of blood remind me of the excited pronouncement by the great swordsman Inigo Montoya who, on the verge of storming the castle and avenging the death of his father, exclaimed, "There will be blood tonight!"

We live in a time when we can have a more complete understanding and appreciation of what a book that transcribes one's every deed might look like. We can call it the Internet.

I once participated in a conference where a Reform rabbi was presenting material for High Holiday sermons (he was quite knowledgeable) and he kept on referring to his own "teshuvah process" and how it helped him develop some of the ideas he was sharing. Someone in the room asked, "What are you referring to?" and he said that as a young rabbi he had made a terrible mistake and was unfaithful in his marriage. One time. And kept the secret for 20 years – at which point, it came out.

He said, "Google my name – this story is the first one that will come up. And I have to live with that." He had traveled to the deepest and darkest places in his soul, his marriage and family fell apart, and he had to put his life back together.

Hearing all this, I was struck by a flood of contradictory feelings. At first judgmental, and then forgiving. "You wicked person. Have you no soul? How could you! And you're a rabbi!" was followed by, "You have gone through so much, hiding your secret, being outed, losing everything, and your personal teshuvah. Perhaps God has forgiven you. Why can't I?"

The experience is still haunting because I am not sure which feeling is correct. Or are both proper?

In our life experiences, we will always find people who make errors. No one is perfect. "To err is human, to forgive – divine" said Alexander Pope. And he was on to something.

Perhaps the blood references in our double parsha are reminding us not to look to skewer someone when we don't like what they've done. We can't stand by idly when blood is being spilled – even the blood of the guilty. And we may not look to exact the vengeance Inigo Montoya was looking to have with his father's killer.

There are cases where we can draw a line and say there's no going back. I personally have no sympathy for terrorists, deliberate murderers, thieves, or those who commit forceful crimes of a sexual nature. Immoral crimes between consenting adults is a different story – they make a very poor choice, have their own demons to deal with, and will certainly pay for their crimes in their families and communities and with God. And the same is true of other examples of poor judgment, particularly when a crime has been committed. 

And I certainly hope the same is true when no crime has been committed. That forgiveness from humans will be more readily sought.

Do all "misdeeds" warrant everyone else to skewer the guilty and seek their blood over and over and over again? If that were the case, many in our community would not be able to pass muster. No one is perfect. We all bend corners and rules when we can. Perhaps the Torah is saying that when blood is spilled, it is its own punishment. But then we are required to cover the blood and move on to the next story. A life which has seen a dark side of mistakes and poor choices has its own recovery to go through.

But we may not devour, eat and consume the blood. We don't stand idly by while blood is spilled. We make room for a teshuva process and hope that we can all merit to achieve what Alexander Pope declared to be a divine trait – to forgive and move on.

Respecting Others' (Jewish) Decisions

Parshat Tazria Metzora

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The primary topic of our double parsha focuses on the affliction of tzaraat, its diagnosis and prognosis. The attention is primarily on the kohen, who is given detailed instructions for how to detect what is or is not tzaraat. He is also given tremendous autonomy in deciding whether the mark he is examining is tzaraat.

Interestingly, there is no mashgiach monitoring to see that what the kohen declares is "correct." He makes the call.

One can argue that even the Torah hints to the kohen's autonomy when it tells us how the kohen examines the tzaraat mark. 14 times the Torah says "V'ra'ah hakohen" - and the kohen sees it, yet only 5 times it says, "V'ra'ahu hakohen," and the kohen looks at it/him. The suffix "hu" added to the "V'ra'ah" leaves open the suggestion that the kohen not only examines the mark, but he also examines the person.

What is the circumstance? Has the person already learned the requisite lesson? Can the person afford to be away from home for a week? For an additional week?

Perhaps the kohen is allowed to make a diagnosis in this fashion due to the unique nature of the spiritual malady. Tzaraat is not like strep throat, where you either have it or you do not. (My mother often compares being honest to being pregnant – you either are or you are not.) Despite any markings on the flesh, you only have tzaraat if the kohen says you have it. And perhaps that determination is made based on factors beyond the textbook definition of a "nega" – a mark that looks like it might be tzaraat.

In this period of Sefirat Ha'Omer, when many people take upon themselves the custom of certain mourning practices in memory of the students of Rabbi Akiva, the feeling in the air often boils down to the question: are we guilty of the same arrogant behavior which the Talmud ascribes to his ill-fated students (Yevamot 62b)?

Let us take the Kohen case as an example. Imagine there were a Temple in Jerusalem, and people were afflicted with tzaraat symptoms and needed a kohen diagnosis to determine the status of the flesh marks in question.

How many kohanim, who are declared by God to be fit, on account of their DNA, to serve as kohanim, will now be called unfit by those who view themselves as 'holier than thou?' Of course every individual has the right to go to whichever kohen one prefers. But would people start ranking kohanim based on perceived levels of frumkeit? Would we call into question the decision of the kohen, claiming we know better what is and what is not tzaraat?

Ironically what we think or even what we know does not matter when it comes to tzaraat. The call belongs to the kohen alone, without the input of a non-kohen. How many of us recall stories of a bygone era, when our grandparents or great-grandparents would take a chicken, bring it to the shochet (slaughterer) and then to the rabbi to see if it was slaughtered correctly? After all, it is the shechita that makes the bird kosher (fit to eat) – not its merely being a chicken.

And how many of us can recount stories of a rabbi who looked not at the chicken but at the poor woman, sometimes a widow, who the rabbi knew could not afford to lose this chicken, and he declared with tears in his eyes that the chicken was kosher?

What would some of our brethren say today about such a rabbi? That he wasn't frum enough? That he was an 'am haaretz' (ignorant simpleton)? That he was unfit to be a rabbi?

Or perhaps he knew a lot more about Torah and Chesed, and about being "noheg kavod zeh lazeh" (respecting one another) than Rabbi Akiva's students knew, and than those of us who seek to criticize other Jews all the time know.

No one is perfect. We all klop "al cheit" on Yom Kippur. But it is time for all factions of the Jewish people to respect the fact that we are different and have different ways of serving God. Some are committed to Halakha, some are not.

Among those who are committed to halakha, some choose to follow a straightforward understanding, or even a liberal understanding of halakha – with basis in what is written in the Shulchan Arukh and its commentaries. Others choose to be more stringent for themselves, based on more stringent commentaries and poskim. Both approaches are admirable for the individuals who choose these routes for themselves.

The problem arises when people try to dictate for others how they should live. Every Jew who is a member of a shul, or who has a rabbi s/he turns to for halakhic guidance, demonstrates an acceptable halakhic authority figure that serves as the spot where the buck so-to-speak stops.

Just as the kohen did not need a mashgiach looking over his shoulders, our communities need to find a way to stop looking over others' shoulders or scaring people to submit to things they don't believe in because they must look over their shoulders to see who is watching.

Live and let live. Mind your own business. Grow in your Jewish experience, and let others grow in theirs' at a pace that works for them.

Going to Shul Weekdays and Shabbos

Shul Attendance (For Men and Women) Is All About Training

by AVI BILLET

I have seen a theme in the blogosphere over the last few days: the following blog posts are presented in (what I think is) their chronological order – all addressing "Why Women Don't Go To Shul." Some of these are a "view from Israel," while some were penned in the United States.

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/not-exactly-a-seat-of-honor/

http://choppingwood.blogspot.co.il/2013/04/the-embarrasment-that-is-womens-section.html

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/scroll-up/

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/why-women-dont-go-to-shul/

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/dont-blame-women-for-not-going-to-shul/

Rabbi Fink (last of the five) compared what he believes to be the reasons men go to shul with reasons why women might as well – and he clarified for me on Facebook that he is mostly speaking about on Shabbos. It is certainly true that some people go out of a sense of obligation, and some go for social reasons – seeing friends, schmoozing, drinking, the Kiddush, etc.

In this contribution to the subject (which alludes to points made in all of the posts linked above), our focus will distinguish between weekdays and Shabbos in hopes of finding an answer to the conundrum.

Weekdays

            

Weekday attendance boils down to one's training and one's M.O. as an adult. Men may "know" they have an obligation to pray three times a day, but it is only those that I classify as "shul guys" who actually make the regular effort. Conflicts come up (timing, work, kids, business-travel, etc), a person can't always make it. But the shul-guy's heart is in shul. And he is there often.

            

I would bet that those who are shul-guys have been going to shul since they were children, davening in a minyan in school, and dragged or brought to mincha-maariv regularly. And when they were off from school, their parents had them go to shul as well. Not just on Shabbos and Yom Tov, but Chol Hamoed, Sundays, legal holidays and winter and summer vacations. If their families went on trips – skiing, Disney, etc., they made an effort to either create or find a minyan.

            

The fact remains that though shuls are quite active in the morning and evening hours of every weekday, the primary attendees are men. Every now and then a young woman, recently back from Israel perhaps, will appear in shul. Sometimes a woman saying kaddish for a yarzeit will make an appearance, or a woman saying kaddish for her parent might be a regular attendee. But these are uncommon.

            

More often the women's section, during the week, is either empty or occupied by (male) latecomers or Yeshiva guys. [This is very wrong behavior because it further makes women feel unwelcome. Shuls that are aware of this put up signs saying "Please reserve the women's section for women."]

            

That women don't show up is partially because of the excuses – and they are all legitimate: women do not have the "obligation," those who are mothers have other responsibilities, and there is not really a social element to the weekday davening.* This does not explain why women who are looking to have a minyan experience, who are not mothers of young children and do not have other responsibilities do not come to shul. There isn't a "welcoming" atmosphere to anyone on the weekday because of the fast pace of a workday: those who come during the week are usually interested in davening, yes, but in getting through it as expeditiously as possible – no wasting time, do your business, and move on with your day.

Shabbos

There are two kinds of shuls: the kind in which women feel comfortable, and the kind in which they do not. Certainly some shuls make a bigger deal out of the women's section and put more efforts into making it a respectable space for tefillah. And some completely neglect the space.

To be honest, I hear both sides. A majority of the women I see coming to shul come for the final hour of the Shabbos morning davening. For those who come from the beginning, they certainly deserve a welcoming space. But for those who only come for the 1 hour per week, I completely understand why a shul would not budget for the space (though this is likely more of an issue in Israel than in the US where shuls do take the women's section into consideration, particularly when constructing a new facility).

There are also many reasons women would not come to shul. Some are communal (shul doesn't care, I don't like the shul atmosphere, women are left out of the service, I don't like the way they have the mechitza, etc); some are openly personal (no child care, too much talking, too much shushing, etc); some are intimately personal (a widow or divorcee feels out of place or lonely, anger with God, someone said something once, etc.); to some women, davening may be a meaningless gesture, or something they prefer to do at home. Where any shul can address the issue, the shul should do its best to correct the problem. Unfortunately, blaming a shul for any individual's private and very personal problems with the shul enters into the realm of "unfair."

In the shuls I have worked and prayed, women come on Shabbos morning. Some to pray, some to talk. Some come early and daven. Some come a little later and daven. Some come late and listen to the sermon or talk during davening or in the hallway. I find a special irony in cases where women wish to kiss the Torah and then talk during the Torah reading (men too, by the way). Not that all do this, but it becomes a question of what are our priorities – an external gesture which turns out to be meaningless (if one talks during the reading), or an internalization of the Torah words which are publicly read? Seems to me the latter should be the priority.

The excuse that women do not have a participatory role in shul is, in my opinion, just an excuse. In a shul that has 100 men and 100 women, about 14 men have a role. Let's assume for a moment that the rabbi doesn't count. 2 Gabbaim, 3 baalei tefillah (unless there is a cantor), 1 Torah reader and 8 aliyahs. 86% of the men have the same role as the women, and yet they come all the same. Their role is to worry about their own tefillah, participate in whatever singing and communal responses, and make their best effort to get close to God.

I know a number of women who are "shul-women" and "tefillah-women." They view both experiences as very important in their lives, they daven every day, and they go to shul on Shabbos where they are content with their role as an actively participating member of the tzibbur – who answers to brachot, kaddish, kedusha, and joins in communal singing. They never need to play the speaking role of chazzan or person getting an aliyah (which many men shy away from as well) and can go about their business without anyone being the wiser – because davening is not about a show. It is about a personal experience.

They probably did not have the same training as the "shul-guys" (bottom line: attendance in shul is largely related to one's having been trained to be a shul person), and they more likely came to their shul-person status through either positive Shabbos experiences growing up, or on account of their own religious and soul-searching in formative years.

When people make shul about everything else (can I lead Kabbalat Shabbat, will I get to carry the Torah, or kiss the Torah, does the shul even make an effort to make me feel comfortable, whether it provides childcare, a hashkamah minyan for one spouse so the other can go later), they have many causes to complain about the roles they do not have, and how annoying shul is. 

But when people understand what the purpose of the shul experience is supposed to be it can be rewarding no matter the circumstances, if the attitude a person brings to shul is one that says, "I am here to have the experience I am looking for. It is up to me to create it."

After all - אמ אין אני לי מי לי

* There is no "social element" to any davening. You are either speaking to God, you are silent, or you are speaking to a person. When conversing with a person, you are not davening.

On Holocaust Remembrance Day

This was my sermon this past Shabbos. Some thoughts on the Holocaust, its aftermath, and on our responsibilities as the Jewish people to avoid religious extremism...

Shmini: DOING WHAT GOD WANTS

Rabbi Avi Billet

In the early 1950s the Israeli Government decided that the 27^th of Nissan would be designated as Holocaust Remembrance Day. Out of respect for Shabbos, when that date falls on the weekend, as it does this year – tomorrowbeing the day – it is moved either forward to Monday or back to Thursday, so that the preparations for or memorial services will not cross over into Shabbos. This is the law in Israel – respecting Shabbos. The law doesn't mandate observance of Shabbos the way we practice. But it respects Shabbos.

            

No words or thoughts can soften the blow of the toll the Holocaust had on the worldwide Jewish communities, and the impact it still has. The numbers remain unfathomable. The declining overall Jewish birthrate is not replenishing the loss, assimilation is making things even worse, and from a certain perspective, Jewish identity and knowledge is declining overall.

From a different perspective, there are positive developments as well. The Jewish population in Israel has – ironically – reached the 6 million mark, surpassing the Jewish population of the US, which is around 5.5 million. Jews are active and prominent in many respectable fields of influence – politics, science and medicine, Hollywood, world of finance.

These last facts are often fodder for the spewings of anti-Semites who claim the Protocols of the Elders of Zion is not a forgery – they would advocate for thinking people to believe there is an active effort and network of Jews worldwide to take over the world.

Another side of the coin: We have sadly gotten to a point where Jewish comedians make jokes about the Holocaust. I see articles about poor and needy Holocaust survivors who are being neglected in the US and in Israel. And a self-proclaimed denier of the Holocaust, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, is given a chance to speak at the United Nations General Assembly.

We live in strange times. 

It is troubling to read or hear people, especially Jewish people, assigning blame for either why the Holocaust happened, or which Jews were responsible for not doing more. We are human – we do not know and will not know why personal or national tragedy befalls member or the entirety of Our People. 

A number of years ago I read a transcribed speech of Rabbi Moshe Shternbuch – in the book Reb Moshe Speaks, in which he blamed the Zionists – the secular living in Israel, who did not want an influx of European Jews in Palestine – for not doing enough to save Jews. I have seen similar accusations hurled at Chassidic Rebbes and Roshei Yeshiva for telling their constituents that this too will pass—stay, there is no reason to run away. [The troubling conflict they faced is analyzed here] The truth is, who knew? Who really could have foreseen what Hitler's Nazi Machine could do? Who really understood the gravity of the Final Solution.

Don't blame Jews for the Holocaust! Blame the Nazis for the Holocaust! And blame an indifferent world for ignoring those who escaped and reported, and for turning a blind eye to what was going on!

In his recent visit to Israel, President Obama was addressed by Rabbi Israel Meir Lau at Yad Vashem. Rabbi Lau told a personal memory of Rabbi Herschel Schacter, father of Rabbi JJ Schacter, who happened to pass away the day before Obama's visit to Yad Vashem, of his role as the chaplain for the US Army who liberated Buchenwald, where young Lulek Lau was liberated as a child at age 8. Then he spoke of a member of the military that he met 68 years after the war, who apologized to him saying, "We were too late!" And Rabbi Lau asked of President Obama not to be too late in standing up for what is right for the safety and well being of the Jewish people in Israel and around the world.

 The Pasuk towards the end of Va'eschanan says - דברים פרק ו - יח) וְעָשִׂיתָ הַיָּשָׁר וְהַטּוֹב בְּעֵינֵי יְקֹוָק לְמַעַן יִיטַב לָךְ וּבָאתָ וְיָרַשְׁתָּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ הַטֹּבָה אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּע יְקֹוָק לַאֲבֹתֶיךָ: The formula is quite simple. Do what God wants – what is ישר וטוב in His eyes, and good things will happen.

As we learn from Paroh, who was perhaps a messenger of God who chose to take things to the extreme he did, it is the oppressor that is to blame for turning the oppressed into the victims. Blaming Jews for the Holocaust is disgraceful. We blame Nazis and indifferent passive anti-Semites.

However, what we can do is look at the precedent of Tanakh and see that there are many warnings of what will happen to the Jewish people if they choose not to do what God wants. Read the Tokhachas of Bechukosai and Ki Savo, and some things become abundantly clear – as they have been played out for the Jewish people generation after generation – like a script followed expertly by its performers, villains and heroes, persecutors and victims.

Are there guarantees that good will always be the result or that bad will never be the result? No. We do not know the ways of God. But certainly a reasonable formula for good tidings and outcomes, as per the Torah's description, is doing what God wants.

This morning we read of the dedication of the Mishkan on the Yom HaShmini – when all the parts of the animals to be burned were placed on the Mizbeach, all was set, leaving God to bring the anticipated fireworks. And did He deliver! when a fire descended from the heavens and consumed all items fated for burning.

Everyone present knew this was a heavenly fire. The Midrash Agada says when the people saw the fire consuming the Korban parts, נפלו על פניהם ואמרו שירה, על אותה השעה הוא אומר רננו צדיקים בה' לישרים נאוה תהלה (תהלים לג א'.  They knew they were in the presence of God, that nothing could go wrong, because they were doing everything right.

The fire that consumed Nadav and Avihu, on the other hand, was clearly a punishing fire. And why? With the exception of the very minority opinion that says the deaths of Nadav and Avihu were preordained and were necessary for the sanctification of the Mishkan, most everyone tries to nail the coffin, so to speak, on where they went wrong.

[There are many opinions: they were מורה הלכה בפני רבן, they were jealous of  kavod given to Moshe and Aharon, they acted on their own without  consulting with anyone, They drank wine before they did their avodah, they weren’t wearing the proper bigdei kehunah, they didn’t perform רחיצת ידים ורגלים, They didn’t have children, they were not married (may have even tried to woo Agunos, alternatively they caused women to be Agunos, all thinking they might marry the two most eligible bachelors), they were supposed to bring their ketores on the inside mizbeach and they brought it on firepans instead, their deaths were punishment to their father for his role in Chet HaEgel, they may have been acting as non-kohanim, as private citizens, using their kohen-status for access, but not because this was considered a proper avodah, they didn't trust in the possibility of a heavenly fire, as did their father before them (thank you to Rabbi Josh Flug for making me aware of some of these)]

Even the Torah says they brought an אש זרה, a strange fire, that God had not commanded. That God chose to make that or any of the suggested reasons a death sentence is His business, but it is a reflection of the fact that they were not doing what God wanted.

We can not give answers for the Holocaust. But in these days post the Holiday of Redemption we can ask why the Redemption has not come? Perhaps part of the answer was and continues to be – עד ביאת גואל צדק – that as a united Jewish People, there are too many imperfections in our fulfillment of God's will.

What God wants is laid out clearly in the middle of Devarim Chapter 10, and Micha chapter 6 verse 8 – it's the last pasuk in the Haftorah of Parshas Balak. Look them up and know those pesukim well. "God asks of you only that you remain in awe of God your Lord, so that you will follow all His paths and love Him, serving God your Lord with all your heart and with all your soul keeping his commandments and decrees that I am de\scribing to you today." "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 discreetly/humbly with your God."

These verse mostly address the responsibilities we have between Man and God. And between Man and Man, which is a reflection of what it means to be a Godly person, we have many of the rules which are spelled out in Parshat Kedoshim, which we will read in a few weeks.

And we need to contrast all these with what God surely does not want:

Neglect of the Torah and mitzvos on the one hand, and neglect of fellow Man on the other. Sinas Chinam continues to plague our people.

I read an article on ynet written by a Masorti rabbi – Israeli Conservative – who wasdescribing a more liberal-leaning Orthodox rabbi of the Tzohar group incomplimentary terms, and he even made some valid points about how Halakha views people, that I struggle with – while he was really bashing Orthodoxy and its adherence to more traditional, rather then liberal, interpretation of Halakha.

On the other side, I read an editorial in a right-wing Orthodox magazine, in which the author spoke of the battle between Orthodoxy and non-Orthodoxy, which he believes will be won by the Orthodox.

Are these what God wants? Bashing, name calling, a battle?

In the aftermath of the latest election in Israel, there is an uproar over the draft of the Chareidim. Some of the arguments I have read against the draft – from the Chareidi side – would be funny if they didn't mean them seriously.

From the UK edition of Hamodia [as quoted here]: "Our Hashkofoh obligates us to demand state support for Torah and chessed mosdos, not out of concern that they won't be able to continue to provide vital services to the weaker sectors, but to provide a merit for the government, which is so in need of Heavenly mercy. Even if the government doesn't appreciate and understand the workings of midoh keneged midoh, its support for such institutions will serve its interests."

One wonders if the writer has taken any notice of the reality of our world.

The theological arguments promoting a learning only culture and a government-entitlement culture, in which men do not work or participate in society are anti-thetical to the Torah.

ששת ימים תעבד! Work! Teach your child a trade! And find time to learn when you've fulfilled your work obligations.

Every Bible hero and every Talmudic master had a trade. Some were wealthy some were dirt poor. But they worked.

And when push literally came to shove, the Biblical heroes bore arms and fought – for themselves, their families and their nation. Was Avraham a military man? Was Yaakov – the Ish Tam Yoshev Ohalim? Was Moshe a fighter? Was Shmuel Hanavi a warrior? No! But they fought when they needed to!

Who were Yehoshua, Otniel ben Knaz, Ehud ben Geirah, Gideon, Yiftach, Shimshon, Shaul, David? Great leaders and warriors, famous for their military accomplishments!

I read another article entitled " Israeli Rabbi Causes Uproar By Post On Facebook Saying He Shaves During Sefira". The article explains that he is a mohel – according to halakha a mohel can get a haircut and shave for a bris during sefirah. But that's beside the point! An UPROAR? Over a Facebook post about a minhag? The mourning of the sefirah period is meant to be a reminder of why Rabbi Akiva's students died – because lo nahagu kavod zeh lazeh. Perhaps Rabbi Akiva was forced to realize that V'ahavta L'reiakha Kamokha is such an important principle of the Torah as a lesson learned from the way his students respected, or didn't respect, one another, and the fact that they died because of their behavior. The mourning feeling reminds us of this. And people getting in a tizzy over one person's interpretation of a minhag misses the point entirely. Mind your own business and mourn over what could have been had Rabbi Akiva's students survived and taught Torah to the world.

Let us reject religious extremism – in the pro religion or in the anti-religion (those whose "religion" it is to mock religion) side. People need to be educated and need to make educated choices. Some choose to make halakha important in their lives. Some choose not to. And some don't know anything about it. And some, to quote Groucho Marx in Horse Feathers, say "whatever it is, I'm against it." 

A halakhic life is not yet in the cards for everyone. But respecting those who choose it, or who choose not to have it, must be in the cards for everyone.

            

The first section of our parsha demonstrated the way to do God's will, in which people fell on their faces in praise of God. The second section, Nadav and Avihu's tale, and its aftermath, demonstrates an admittedly extreme measure of what can happen when people go against what God has said. Certainly the Holocaust was an extreme measure. And 2000 years of exile is also an extreme measure. But the ways of God are often hidden from us.

            

We must strive, as much and as best as we are able, to do what God wants. It is our job to be tolerant of others, to share our knowledge when possible, and to be good examples. But we can not let extremism take over who we are! Of course people must stand for something! But if what they stand for is harmful to a society, or makes life unbearable for others who live in that society – either because they make demands or don't contribute to any cause from which they benefit – this is wrong.

No ethical religion mandates such a policy, and it should be shunned and rejected. Living in a society means contributing to it, noticeably, tangibly, and in a manner that indicates clearly that I believe in this, because this is where my life is. It means being tolerant of others, letting people live their lives, and being a model citizen. Respecting the law of the land – advocating for change through the proper channels when necessary – but abiding by the law while it is the law. [Footnote – see Women of the Wall. - who are welcome to pray at the Wall, but are just asked to follow the law]

The Law in Israel, for example, respects Shabbos on Holocaust, Memorial and Independence Days.

For a Jew being the model Jew ideally means following those texts in Devarim and Micha to round out one's religious experience vis a vis God. And with regard to one's fellow man it means respecting the other person, showing compassion, empathy, being a good listener and doing God's work - looking out for others honestly, with dignity, doing our part to help bring about the Final Redemption.