Perfecting Ourselves

Parshat Nitzavim VAYELEKH

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In our efforts to get closer to God in the days leading up to Rosh Hashana, every person employs a different strategy.

            

Some learn the laws of Rosh Hashana, some give more charity, some pray more fervently or sincerely, Sefardim pray Selichot for a month, we hear the Shofar sound on a daily basis. People are a little nicer to one another. We give High Holiday greetings (K'tivah Va'Chatimah Tovah – May you be Inscribed and Sealed for a Good Year), send Rosh Hashana cards, and try to make a good showing as the clock ticks towards the moment of truth.

            

Is there a unique instruction that can help us maintain our focus?

            

Sometimes a Hassidic thought nails the idea perfectly.

            

The last verse in our double parsha brings Moshe's efforts of chapter 29-31 to a close when it declares, "And Moshe spoke the words of this song into the ears of the congregation of Israel, until it was completed."

            

The term "until it was completed" is the most likely translation of the two Hebrew words, "Ad tumam" referring to the completion of the song Moshe was telling over. The dangling modifier allows for the possibility that "ad tumam" refers to the Israelites, that Moshe spoke to them, until they were finished or completed.

            

It was Rabbi Simcha Bunem of Pshischa who went in this direction – not suggesting the people were finished but that they achieved the meaning of the root word "tumam."

            

Essentially, he suggests that Moshe repeated the song over and over and over again until the people achieved becoming "Tamim" – complete or perfect.

            

This is the lesson we must carry for ourselves at this time of year.

            

What will it take for the message of Godliness to penetrate our minds and hearts? How will we be able to answer for ourselves that we put in our greatest effort?

            

If we heed the message because we have listened to it over and over. If we can only read through the Rosh Hashana prayers in advance, to familiarize ourselves with them, and to have their impact be felt in our hearts, we may be moved to become more wholesome human beings. If we can hear a message of "Shuva" – "Return to God" over and over, it might be effective.

            

According to R' Simcha Bunem, Moshe did not give up with the Jewish people. He plugged away with them, because of his concern for the direction they'd choose after his demise. He never felt they were ready for him to leave them.

            

But here, in this final verse of our parsha, Moshe achieved his goal. "Moses then proclaimed the words of this song to the entire assembly of Israel until they became complete and perfect."

            

His efforts to help the people change their essence and their totality proved successful. Because reviewing the points they needed to hear helped the right ideas penetrate so they could become the complete nation he could feel comfortable leaving with his successor.

            

May we be so lucky to find the message that speaks to us, dedicate ourselves to listen to it over and over, so we may be able to perfect and complete ourselves in our continued effort of improving ourselves in the service of God and in our fellowship with Man.

To Walk in His Ways

Parshat Ki Tavo

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The bulk of Parshat Ki Tavo is occupied by the Tokhacha, the great Rebuke that is promised to the Israelite nation in exchange for their infidelity to God. Prior to the curses and promises of destruction there are 14 verses of blessing which, were we to keep our end of the deal, paint the Israelite existence in the Land as the most fantastic we could ever dream to experience.

            

In the middle of the blissful depiction of Divine Grace, we read, "The Lord will establish you as His holy people as He swore to you, if you observe the commandments of the Lord, your God, and walk in His ways." (Devarim 28:9)

            

The simple reading of this verse seems to be descriptive and straightforward. God will do "Y" for you on account of your having done "X." Nowhere does there seem to be a commandment in this verse. While not exactly a throwaway line, the phrase "walk in His ways" on a base level does not seem to be an instruction as much as it is an example of how to observe the commandments. In the original text, the phrase is two words, "V'halakhta B'drakhav."

            

Another example of this is the phrase "Zeh eili v'anvehu" (Shmot 15:2) – this is my God and I will glorify Him. In Mesekhet Sofrim 3:17, this verse is utilized to explain how a Jew should go the extra mile to fulfill mitzvot with nicer products rather than with inferior products. Some examples include: decorating the sukkah, finding the best lulav set, using the best materials (ink, quill, parchment, etc) when writing a Torah, mezuzah or putting together tefillin.

            

The original phrase was uttered by the people in the context of the Song of the Sea, and while perhaps not a throwaway line, it is certainly not viewed as a mitzvah! While the people may have accepted upon themselves a commitment to glorifying God, this does not turn their "chumrah" choices (stringencies) into an absolute requirement.

            

Similarly, the notion of "V'halakhta B'drakhav" could arguably be viewed in the same way. How does one best fulfill commandments? Or more accurately, how does one behave in the most complete and perfect fashion? Through walking in His ways. The same source in Mesekhet Sofrim (and Yerushalmi Peah 1:1) quotes Abba Shaul as saying, "Just as He is merciful, you should be merciful."

            

And yet Maimonides takes the verse and extracts what is, in his count, the 8^th commandment in the Torah: To Imitate God. Maimonides claims the mitzvah appears elsewhere as well – see Devarim 8:6, 10:12, 11:22, 13:5, 19:9, 26:17, 30:16 – and yet he uses our verse as his prime example of the mitzvah, utilizing the teaching of "Just as He is merciful…" which also appears in the Sifrei on Eikev to describe exactly how one walks in God's ways.

            

In describing this mitzvah, Ramban quotes the passage in Sotah 14a (Maimonides mentions it in passing) which further describes the imitation of God's ways as "clothing the naked, visiting the sick, comforting the mourner and burying the dead" each of which God did for Adam, Avraham, Yitzchak and Moshe respectively.

            

Considering the 7 other places where this idea occurs in the book of Devarim, it is hard to argue that "Walking in God's ways" should not be a mitzvah. Each verse in its context clearly says it is a mitzvah. But it is still curious that Maimonides chooses the phrase in 28:9 as the poster phrase for this mitzvah. The verse is not quoted in the entire Talmud. And were it to appear alone in the Torah, without the seven supporting verses, perhaps we would be able to argue that "walking in God's ways" is no more of a mitzvah than "this is my God and I will glorify Him." Meaning, it is a nice and helpful piece of instruction, but by no means one of the six hundred and thirteen commandments!

            

I think a difference between this verse and all the others is that 28:9 is the first mention of imitating God that appears after Moshe's big speech. Devarim 5-26 has been one long monologue of Moshe telling the people a mixture of narrative and commandment, perhaps lending itself to people thinking Moshe was adding things of his own accord. Perhaps people felt that "Moshe's 'throwaway lines' were added touches, but were not meant as commandments" because they did not see God's strings pulling Moshe's teachings.

            

Now that the big speech is over and Moshe is once again telling the people that he is quoting God, 28:9 is the first time he mentions to walk in God's ways. Maimonides is merely jumping on this appearance of the idea in order to make it clear to those with doubts that this is not a throwaway line – it is a commandment like any other, and it comes from God.

            

The preparations for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur require us to square away wrongs we have committed against our fellow man and wrongs we have committed against God. The mitzvah of imitating God is meant to help us accomplish both. If we are always being like God, we can not possibly wrong God. And if we follow the examples that the Talmud brings of how we are to treat man through imitating God, we will become the most caring individuals.

            

May we merit to utilize this mitzvah of imitating God to become the most wholesome people in our relationships with God and our fellow Man.

Punishment That Can Change a Man (And Some Thoughts on Divorce)

Parshat Ki Tetze

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In our post feminist world, a case in Devarim 22 is very troubling.

It concerns a man who marries and after consummating his marriage finds that he hates his wife. Instead of following the Torah's instruction for how to absolve a marriage through divorce (as is described in Devarim 24), he chooses to invent charges against her that she was unfaithful.

The most likely reason he invents the charges is to get himself out of having to pay her Ketubah – or whatever contractual agreement he entered in the marriage. In other words, he makes up a story to save a few shekels.

Of course her parents get all up in arms and do all they can to produce evidence to prove their daughter's innocence. If the evidence is accepted, "The city elders shall then take the man and flog him. They shall fine him 100 [shekels] of silver [as a penalty] for defaming an Israelite virgin, and give it to the girl's father. [The man] must then keep [the girl] as his wife, and may not send her away as long as he lives." (22:18-19)

Wait a minute. Did you catch that? He may not send her away as long as he lives? Isn't this supposed to be his punishment? What about her? Must she be condemned to live with this ingrate, this despicable individual who clearly doesn't like her, and who will go so far as to make up stories about her rather than go through the proper channels of either reconciliation, or, if need be, divorce, just in order to save himself some money? Why must she be stuck to this low-life? What about her life?

The Talmud (Ketubot 40a) explains that in cases similar to this (and if the parallel is not clear in the Talmud, the Torah Temimah assures us that it should be clear), the girl has every right, and is even instructed, to say "I don't want him." Her refusal, as the Malbim explains, gives her an easy out, and rids her of this nuisance of a man who doesn't deserve her, who tried to destroy her life. If she doesn't want him, there is no longer a positive commandment that he must marry her.

Let us assume for a moment that after whatever thought process, the girl decides she wants to stay with him. Maybe she thinks no one else will want her. After the accusation, anyone who Googles her name (even after she is proven innocent) will see the accusation at the top of every internet search of her name. She will really have no shot at a life other than with this man.

How is his inability to ever get rid of her a punishment to him, while at the same time being in some way to her benefit?

Certainly once upon a time, being married was automatically beneficial to a woman, as she was supported by her husband. And in Biblical and Talmudic times, any of the following scenarios would not present an out for him – absolution from responsibility.

Even if he somehow succeeded in divorcing her, he had to take her back (Yerushalmi Ketubot 3:6). Even if he discovers a real flaw in her, which could have absolved him of his marriage responsibilities – she becomes blind or lame, etc. - he is stuck. He must maintain and support her. (Sifrei) Even if she is barren for ten years, a condition which is viewed in some circles as grounds for divorce, he must maintain her (Malbim).

All of these indicate that even were she to become an undesirable for whatever reason, she must still be taken care of by her husband or his estate. This is an incredible guarantee which has no precedent anywhere else. Obviously most people who marry for the long haul, will be in tune to take care of one another no matter what conditions come up.

Equally obvious is that the man who fabricates a story to save a little money will not hesitate to jump ship when the going gets a little rougher. And so he needs an incentive to change who he is.

It must be understood that the Torah's rules only work for people who are committed to following them, who accept the ruling of a court and who do their best to follow the law. Every person tries to cut corners here and there, but when the judge in a court says to follow a ruling based on Torah principles, the devout person becomes grounded and does his best to comply.

The Torah says, "She must be a wife to him. He may not send her all of his days." Pay careful attention to the nuance. The onus is now on he who was careless about another person's feelings and reputation to now recognize that he must grow up and embrace another person in his life.

"She must be a wife to him" is reminding him how he must always view her. She is his wife. He must raise her up, must cherish her, and must find ways to honor and appreciate her. He may never shirk this responsibility.

It forces him to change his entire approach to females and to this woman in particular. Since she will now be with him for the long haul, if he does not want to have a miserable life, he must be the most amazing husband, doting, pampering, respectful, loving. In short, his bond is meant to turn him into a real mentsch.

           

Our communities (and faith communities in general) are the biggest proponents for marriage. And while divorce rates are rising, and are, in some cases, absolutely necessary, it is only through the method described in the Torah – that the man must write for and give his wife a divorce document – that marriages must end. The concept of the present-day "Agunah crisis" is so anti-Torah, it is a stain on any community that supports the use of a Get as a tool of extortion or preventing a woman from being able to move on with her life. Property and custody battles not withstanding. (Fight if you must, but without using the Get as a bargaining tool.)

           

The message given through this obnoxious husband is that the marriage union must be respected, and that a man must do what he can to see his woman as "his wife," who is to be honored and respected (see Rambam Hilchot Ishut 15:19). And while divorce is sometimes an option, if it is done through the prism of respecting another human being and the Torah's instruction, it is taken care of through the proper channels – with a divorce document that frees both people to move on with their lives.

           

An even better option, however, when divorce isn't absolutely necessary, is for people to view their marriage as sacrosanct, and to work very hard to do what is possible to raise the other person up. People who view their responsibilities in marriage as givers and supporters, rather than as takers and selfish individuals, have a much better chance of living out the blessing of the mitzvah here: "He can not send her away for the rest of his life" because he loves her so much and treats her so well, he cannot imagine a life without her as the center of his universe.

Intermarriage Education

See here for my previous posting on this subject

Parshat Shoftim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

For as far back as I can remember, I have heard rabbis and community leaders utilize catch phrases in public lectures: "We must stem the tide of assimilation!" and "Intermarriage rates are skyrocketing!"

            

Most Jews I have met who grew up in the 1920s and 30s married Jewish and tried to raise Jewish children. Marrying a non-Jew was out of the question – and perhaps in a slightly more bigoted and less-tolerant society the feeling was mutual.

            

Many Jews who grew up in the 40s and 50s were fed similar instructions. But perhaps the emergence of Israel as a state created a human, and even admirable face to the enigma of the Jew, and marrying whomever for love began to become an option.

Nowadays, with intermarriage in the United States being over 50%, many Jewish children grow up hearing, "As long as you love your spouse, as long as you are happy, it doesn't matter to us." More than likely, a number of parents who don't inculcate the need for their children to marry Jewish don't themselves understand why it should be important.

This is not to say any Jewish parents whose child married out did not try very hard to teach their children, nor is it to suggest they are failures. In our society, people choose spouses, often enough without, despite, or deliberately against their parents' input. More couples than I can count have said to me, "I am not happy about my kid's choices. But what can I do? I still love him/her."

Is intermarriage bad?

Not wishing to be judgmental, or to point fingers, let us just say that it is particularly frowned upon in the Talmud (Yevamot 76a, Kiddushin 68b, Avodah Zara 36b) and its commentaries, and most clearly in the words of Maimonides (Laws of Forbidden Relations chapter 12).

The Torah itself says (Devarim 7:3) "Do not marry them, don't give your daughter to his son, nor take his daughter for your son."

In all fairness, one of the Talmudic debates directly addresses the question of whether this verse applies only to the 7 Nations of Canaan, even if they convert, or to all non-Jewish nations who do not convert. Other than people from a few nations that no longer exist, those who convert are no longer subject to the prohibition of this kind of inter-marriage. After all, one who converts is a Jew.

The main reason given for the prohibition, as described by Targum Yonatan, is that a nuptial of this sort paints one as having married (embraced) the other person's gods. While the Talmud in Kiddushin goes back and forth postulating whether a man follows his wife's religion, or whether a woman follows her husband's, all of which has repercussions in defining whether the children of such a union are Jewish (the Talmud's conclusion is that only a Jewish mother bears Jewish children), the verse in 7:3 suggests that either union does not promote the kind of Jewish continuity that our People need. Rabbi S.R. Hirsch has a powerful essay on this point in his Torah commentary on this verse.

The Torah's solid prohibition of intermarriage often comes into question in the context of next week's parsha, in the opening section about the "Yefat To'ar" – the beautiful, sometimes married, woman that an Israelite soldier brings home from the battlefield. (21:11-13) Rashi there says the Torah responds to one's evil inclination.

The problem is exacerbated, however, because the permissive mode comes up elsewhere: in the war with Midyan (Bamidbar 31:9,18) and in our parsha (Devarim 20:13-14). In these cases, the Torah does not seem to be responding to a particular lust – it is saying that the female prisoners of war are now available to you.

            

The Alshich in our parsha couches it all nicely saying the intent is to reflect and change one's ways through utilizing these people in helping one perform commandments.

            

In an article discussing Yefat Toar, Rabbi Michael Rosensweig addressed the question of the Torah's allowing these kinds of unions.

            

His message is quite relevant here.

            

A careful study of the Yefat Toar process affirms the need to "refashion one's emotional response to avoid even sanctioned halachic compromise."  Quoting the Kli Yakar, Rabbi Rosensweig noted that "in order to succeed against the concrete enemy on the battlefield, one must first struggle internally to refine one's halachic values and vanquish the yetzer ha-ra that is accentuated by the passions of battle." The Rabbis spoke of the negative consequences of marrying the Yefat Toar, even if it is a legal union, consequences Rabbi Rosensweig described as coming from "diluted and compromised standards of discipline, restraint, and mutual respect, [which are otherwise] cornerstones of the halachic vision of sanctity in family life."

That the Torah allows these unions specifically as a result of war stands to indicate that even these unions, valid in a specific context, are far from ideal. Suggesting "the Torah allows it and it is therefore OK all the time" is an invalid argument.

There are many people who intermarry who nonetheless agree to raise their children Jewish. I would invite the non-Jewish spouse who is raising Jewish children to consider converting – why not be completely on the same page as your children?

For the sake of the future of our People, while I hope we all bear only friendly will towards our non-Jewish neighbors, coworkers and friends, it behooves us to remind ourselves and our children (and extended family!) that we marry Jews to maintain our heritage and to preserve the best way to serve God according to the dictates of the Torah.

Remember That You Were A Slave

Parshat Re'eh 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet

There are six remembrances that are included in the siddur at the end of Shacharis: Remembering the Exodus, Shabbos, God's presence at Mt. Sinai, what happened to Miriam, how you provoked God in the desert, and to destroy Amalek.

This list does not include all the times the word "Zachor" (to Remember) appears in the Torah. Nor does it include any of the 7 times we are told "V'zacharta" (and you shall remember) – all of which appear in the book of Devarim (5:15, 8:2, 8:18, 15:15, 16:12, 24:18,22).

Interestingly, the instruction to remember Sinai is really "not to forget" as the verse does not even have the root word "Zachor."

Why are the "V'zacharta"s not included in the daily remembrances? Five of them are repeats: "Remember that you were slaves in Egypt." One of the "V'Zacharta"s is a reminder of the 40 years journey. The remaining one reminds us to remember God, for He is the One Who gives us the strength to prevail.

Our original list of 6 does include a reminder of the 40 years, though instead of it being about how God tested US for 40 years to see if we'd nevertheless fulfill the mitzvos (as is the second of the "V'Zaharta"s in 8:2), it focuses on how we provoked God. Our daily pick of these two (the latter case) is more important for us because it reminds us not to repeat what we did wrong.

Perhaps remembering the Exodus, Shabbos and God's presence at Sinai would be enough to remind us on a daily basis to remember God Who gives us strength, the other non-"you-were-slaves" "V'Zacharta."

Which leaves us wondering why remembering that we were slaves in Egypt is not part of the Siddur-six. Perhaps it doesn't bear its own mention because it is subsumed in the "remembering the Exodus."

And yet, it is mentioned five times in Devarim, twice in our parsha. Even if it is not a remembrance of its own merit, the fact that it is repeated so much should suggest it is quite an important detail in the overall remembrance of the Exodus.

This assumption requires us to see how the instruction appears in each context.

The first one (5:15) appears in the context of the Ten Commandments, as a reminder for why we must keep Shabbos – because we were slaves in Egypt - and this was one of the first ingredients of freedom from Pharaoh. One day off per week.

The second one (15:15), the first of the two in our parsha, comes in the context of describing how to send off the Eved Ivri, the Hebrew servant, from his servitude. He must be treated well, and must be sent on his way with a full suitcase and an ample supply of food.

The third reminder of being a slave (16:12) comes in the context of instructions surrounding celebrating the holiday of Shavuos, which, at least on the calendar, coincides with the penultimate moment of the Exodus process – the receiving of the Torah. As the commentaries point out, the Exodus from slavery was designed to bring us to that moment: at Sinai, receiving the Torah. Remembering our most humble beginnings at that point helps us appreciate Shavuos even more.

The final two reminders of our slavery come in Devarim 24 – the former as part of the ethics of how to treat the stranger and the orphan in judgment, and the latter instruction is to leave some of your produce for them and the widow. Your having been a slave in Egypt helps you empathize with the plight of these people, and sensitizes you to treat the needy and society's weakest in a manner that helps preserve their dignity.

Remembering having been a slave leads to a number of different lessons, primarily focusing on identification, empathy, and appreciating the good we have in our lives. There are too many details attached to the single remembrance to warrant its own daily remembrance, while the reminder of the Exodus essentially covers it anyway.

But, truth be told, even if it is not a specific mitzvah to remember that we were slaves, it is a detail of our history that should not be overlooked. It helps put things in perspective and reminds us of most important priorities: caring for our fellow man, appreciating the freedoms we enjoy, and celebrating our special relationship with God.