Credit When Credit is Due

Parshat Terumah

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In just about all of the instructions for the making of the Mishkan (Tabernacle), the Torah utilizes the singular “V’asita” – and you shall do or make – the items for the Mishkan. “V’Asu” – and they shall make – appears only twice.

The Midrash Rabba (35:3) asks what should be the obvious question. These instructions are being given to Moshe. Moshe, as we know, was neither architect nor builder. He was the conceptual theorist, the instructor. Perhaps we can even argue he was merely God’s mouthpiece for what the Almighty wanted in His Mishkan. So why is he the one being told “You shall make?” The Torah even tells us that Betzalel and Oholiav made the Mishkan. (36:1)

The Midrash concludes – perhaps also obviously – that Moshe’s role was instruction (“Moshe L’Talmud”) while Betzalel’s role was one of action and doing (“Betzalel L’mayseh”).

But where the Midrash moves from the obvious to the profound is in the very next sentence. “From this the Rabbis said to give merit for a task as if one has done it. This is what we find with Moshe: Betzalel did all the work for the Mishkan, and nonetheless the Almighty made it as if Moshe had done it, as it says, ‘And the Mishkan of God that Moshe made in the wilderness (Divrei Hayamim I 21:29).’”

While the Midrash does not spell out exactly what it means, a simple reading between the lines will enlighten our reading of this passage.

The Midrash is not saying Moshe did nothing. The Midrash is also not saying Betzalel isn’t given credit. The Mishkan was absolutely built by Betzalel, and Moshe did not play any significant role in the physical construction of the building.

How then does Moshe share equal billing as a maker of the Mishkan?

Think of it this way. If you build a new house or fix up something in your home, who gets the credit? The workmen who poured the concrete and laid the tile? Or you? There may be some people who do the actual work in their homes, but then they say, “I did it myself.” If someone else did the actual labor, the people who sponsored the project will still say, “We built the house. We fixed up the kitchen.” No you didn’t! All you did was pay for it.

Or, as President Obama famously said, “You didn’t build that. Somebody else made that happen.”

But the truth is, you did build it. Had you not had the idea, had you not hired the architect to draw the plans, given your input into what you wanted, hired the contractor and the workmen, the new thing would not have been built. And of course, had you chosen not to pay for the resources and materials, it also would not have been built.

In Iggerot Moshe Yoreh Deah 4:37, Rav Moshe Feinstein described the “Yissachar Zevulun” relationship as being a business arrangement in which the Yissachar partner provided the raw materials which the Zevulun partner processed and utilized to create a marketable product. “The partnership was not to be confused with Tzedakah.”

In any type of partnership, it takes two to tango. But each side must contribute something that speaks to particular strengths. Moshe’s contribution was essentially being the overseeing contractor, while his man-on-the-ground doing all the work was Betzalel. Both will get credit for making the Mishkan, because both are working.

It is important to remember that the only ideal in Judaism is when all people make a contribution to society. It is absolutely OK for a person to be a learner, as long as the person is contributing to the community: whether as a teacher or as a commodities trader who provides raw materials to a business company partner who will create marketable goods out of them. Or whatever the person chooses to do beyond the Beis Medrash walls.

Judaism views “tzedakah” as God’s gift to the fortunate to help the unfortunate. But in an ideal world, the so-called unfortunate are producers and not just receivers. Because they are partners in creating their destiny.

Moshe was not sitting in a Beis Medrash waiting for them to ask him what to do. He was out there with God’s instructions, clarifying the blueprints and seeing the job got done.

You don’t have to be the builder to get the job done. But you need to be making a significant contribution to the effort. Without that contributory effort, a person is no more deserving of credit (or payment or compensation) than a person who never showed up in the first place.

Bet Din v Secular Court

Parshat Mishpatim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Many commentaries discuss the opening word of our Parsha, wondering what to make of the word "V'Eileh" – and these are – "Hamishpatim…" the laws which are to be placed before the Jewish people. 

The Medrash Tanchuma, for example, notes the difference between if the word begins or does not begin with a "Vov," which serves as the conjunction "and." Quoting Rabbi Abahu in the name of Rabbi Yosi ben Zimra, the Midrash records how when the letter vov does not appear what came before is not relevant to the here-and-now because a new narrative is being introduced. On the other hand, when the vov is present, the conjunction serves to unite what came before with what follows – in some cases even adding information to glorify a previous text.

 We had previously learned that in Marah (15:25), God had placed "a law and a statute" before the people, and now Moshe was being told, "And these are the laws you should [also] place before them." The latter builds on the former.

 The Midrash goes on to explain that the term "lifneihem" (before them) is literally meant to instruct that these laws apply "before a court made up of [Jews]" and not before idolaters.

 The Midrash asks, "How do we know that two Jewish litigants who have a need to settle a matter in court, who know that they can get the same result in front of a non-Jewish court [as in front of a Bet Din] have a mandate to go to the Jewish court? Because it says, "Before them (the Jewish court)" which means and not before the non-Jewish court.

 It really is a simple formula, perhaps no different than understanding the rules of Shabbos, and why rabbis to this day will have a problem accepting some Jews as valid witnesses on important documents such as a ketubah or a get.

The party line is that a person who violates the Shabbos (and of course there are loose definitions of this, just as much as there are hard definitions of this) is viewed as having denied that God created the world in 6 days and rested on the 7th, the acts we emulate when we keep Shabbos. How can a person who denies God's role in the world serve as a witness on a document that testifies to God's law?

Similarly, the Midrash argues, a person who chooses not to go to a Bet Din is denying God's role in the world, and ultimately His Torah, which instructed you to settle these monetary matters "in-house."

A parable is utilized to drive the message home. Imagine two scenarios in which a doctor treats a patient. In the first case, the doctor examines the patient and instructs the family to feed him whatever he wants. For the second patient, the doctor gives him a very specific diet. When asked why he gave the two patients such different treatments, the doctor replied that the first one has no chance for survival. Why restrict his enjoyment when nothing will help him? The second one, on the other hand, can get better with a very careful diet. Why exacerbate his problem if we can fix it?

This, the Midrash explains is the perspective we ought to have regarding "their laws." Invoking a passage in Yirmiyahu (10:3) and Yechezkel (20:25) the Tanchuma declares a difference between the righteousness of the Torah's laws (the food which will help the patient) versus those of the general society (which will do no harm because the patient is lost anyway). The Torah's laws, for example, declare that they give us a foundation "to live with them." (Vayikra 18:5)

Following all of these laws, including to bring your court cases before a Jewish court will bring about the fulfillment of Yeshayahu 1:26-7 and 56:1, promises for a time when the judges are returned to the place where they belong, at the high court in Jerusalem.

 This Midrashic passage is one of the sources addressing the halakha of the incumbency to utilize the Bet Din, most notably in monetary cases.

 I will not be the one to say that the legal system in the United States is unfair. It is imperfect, as is every legal system, and certainly in the scheme of history, it attempts to be one of the more just legal systems humanity has every put together.

 It also opens doors for rulings which defy logic – lawsuits in which millions of dollars are awarded to litigants, custody battles in which the decision regarding what is "best for the child" is not always so clear, as well as some "no exceptions" rulings which make it to the newspapers every now and then, in which it is clear that bureaucracy is dictating policy, with the human element being removed from the equation.

 This is not to say that the rabbis who sit on a Bet Din are omnipotent, nor that they are always right, nor that "any" Bet Din could take on "any" case. There are Bet Dins which pride themselves on a certain expertise, and guided by Torah and Halakha, they do as decent a job (if not better) than a secular court in their arbitration duties. But even a Bet Din is made up of imperfect humans.

It is the responsibility of the Jew who observes Halakha to always make Bet Din the first stop, in financial suits and civil suits. The right Bet Din might even declare, "We can help you until a certain point, and if you are unsatisfied, you have the legal system of the State."

Hopefully, however, the litigants can come to court looking to do what's right. And with the guidance of the Bet Din, harmony can be achieved as the Mishnah in Avot (1:8) is fulfilled when "they accept the ruling."

Thou Shalt Not Murder

Parshat Yitro

by Rabbi Avi Billet

A civil society in which life is sacrosanct frowns upon the act of murder. It is a heinous crime to rob another person of life itself. In the United States different states have different punishments in place for murderers, usually ranging from prison sentences to a ticket to death row.

And yet, not all acts that bring about death are considered “murder.” Certainly a distinction is made between a car accident or some other tragic accident, and a deliberate murder. Even in “crimes” of this nature, the law distinguishes between murder in the first degree, murder in the second degree, manslaughter, involuntary manslaughter, wrongful death, etc. There are other categories as well.

The legal terminology is learned by those who are in the predicament of being charged with the death of another, and the distinctions between the different circumstances has its own basis in the halachic and Biblical terminology.

How Trees Keep Us Rooted in Tradition

Tu B'Shvat

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Tu B’Shvat, or the 15^th (ט"ו) day of the month of Shvat, is the date declared by Beit Hillel to be the Rosh Hashana of the trees (first Mishnah, Rosh Hashana). In Israel, many people participate in a customary planting of new trees on this day, in tribute to the new year of the trees.

Aside from planting trees, the most well-known practices of Tu B’Shvat are the prohibition to fast, the omitting of Tachanun, and the eating of fruits from the land of Israel.

            

Not as well known is the custom to host a Tu B'shvat Seder, similar to the seder of Passover, with fruit being the focus of the evening.  Sources for this custom are kabbalistic in nature. A simple google search of “Tu Bshvat seder” will give you all the information you can want about how to run this event.

            

On the surface it seems to be a simple holiday – ‘Ra Ra – Happy New Year, trees! Did you come up with your New Year’s resolutions? Gonna lose the weight? Gonna buy the new car?’

            

However, the symbolism of the tree and the significance of the holiday shows us how deeply rooted in tradition (pun intended) we ought to be.

The Battle With Amalek

Parshat Beshalach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The battle is waged against Amalek, and as it finishes, we are told – as it is most often translated – "Yehoshua weakened Amalek and his people with the sword." (Shmot 17:13) The Torah's word for "weakened" is "Vayachalosh," and as it turns out, its translation is not so clear.

            

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch takes the "weakening" as a reminder that the defeat of Amalek will only come at the end of days. Israel (as a people) is not yet mature, he argues, and it is Amalek's existence as an adversary and a contrast that is necessary for Israel's development.

           

The Mechilta records three opinions as what happened to Amalek on this battlefield: they were judged with mercy, they lost based on a divine word, they fell by the sword.

            

The Pesikta similarly has a few suggestions: they plowed through Amalek (based on the "l" of VaychaLosh being interchangeable with an "r" – "Vayachrosh"), he struck them as how one destroys mice through squashing them, or Yehoshua had the Amalekites decapitated.

            

The Midrash Sechel Tov elaborates on this last suggestion saying Yehoshua did not mutilate their bodies (see R Chaim Paltiel and Daat Zekenim below), but judged them to receive an honorable death – quick and instant death through decapitation.

            

How could such a judgment be considered a weakening? The Targum Yonatan says the punishment was on a limited scale – only the greatest of their warriors met their ends this way (see Rashi too). This explains how they were weakened – their best soldiers perished, but not the regular rank-n-filers (Ta"z).

            

There is another line of thinking recorded by a number of commentaries, based in the Midrash.

            

The Amalekites were able, through necromancy, to see which of their soldiers were not destined to die at the sword during the coming year. These men were placed as the front-line soldiers, almost as an invincible army. Nonetheless, Yehoshua's army weakened them with the sword through injuries, even though they could not kill them. (Chizkuni, Daat Zekenim, R Chaim Paltiel, etc)

           

Chizkuni (and R Chaim Paltiel) records a different opinion, based on similar word in Iyov 14:10, that Vayachalosh means many Amalekites did in fact die in battle.

            

However, R Chaim Paltiel raises another Midrashic approach to this battle, that Yehoshua ordered for the Roshei Eivarim, the tips of the organs, to be removed, thus weakening them. The Sifra (Tazria 1) notes that there are 24 Roshei Eivarim – 10 fingers, 10 toes, the ears, the nose, the male organ and the nipples.

If all the Roshei Eivarim were removed, that is not only a weakening, that is a mutilation! So I wonder if that is really what it means. The Daat Zekenim claims it wasn't "all" of the Roshei Eivarim – just the hands and the feet. We are grateful for the clarification.

Of course there are others, such as one opinion quoted in the Hadar Zekenim anthology, who say that the allusion of "Vaychalosh" refers to death, plain and simple.

Rabbenu Bachaye takes the word to be understood in an out-of-worldly sense, that there was something going on in the stars and between the heavenly representatives of Amalek and Yisrael.

I raise all of these possibilities for a number of reasons.

First, as a reminder that there's a world of interpretation out there, and while everyone has an opinion, no one can be absolutely correct when it comes to certain narratives.

Second, the rules of the battlefield are not pretty. It is very difficult to judge military leaders for certain decisions made in the heat of a battle, when their soldiers' lives are on the line and there is chaos and lack of clarity all around.

Third, whatever Yehoshua did to "weaken them" – whether killing the best soldiers, the entire attacking band of Amalekites (surely the entire nation of Amalek was not at hand for this attack), or just mutilating them, Amalek was weakened enough that we don't see them attack the Israelites for decades – and not at all in the book of Yehoshua. Of course, we understand that whatever he did was by divine command.

Sometimes merely disarming enemies is not enough. Something needs to be done to set them back decades so that our People can live in peace for a generation or two, if not longer.

I don't take from this story that enemies should be killed or mutilated. But perhaps a strategy could be employed that considers how to weaken a fighting spirit – perhaps a push to educate or to employ or to give people a sense of purpose in life beyond having nothing better to do than fight the "Israelis" or "the Jews."

            
The power struggles that pervade in the Middle East, as well as certain US politicians' egotistical notion that they have the solution, only add to the fire that will never allow for peace in the region unless the focus changes to bettering the lives of a people through education and opportunity in place of blaming others for all of the woes that have not subsided or changed (in some cases) for generations. 

Bo: The Most Unique Story of Liberty

I introduced this sermon as being somewhat unorthodox, being that the main source is... well, you'll see. The message, however, is very Orthodox. :) Posting because, judging by the feedback, it seems it was very well received.

Bo Sermon 5774

Rabbi Avi Billet

            Like all fathers, I have a vested interest in my childrens' education. And I want them to really understand the story of Yetzias Mitzrayim. After all, it is this story that defines who we are as a people, and lays the foundation for our adherence to God and the Torah.

To that effort, I took the important step of introducing my children to Charlton Heston, as we watched Cecil B Demille'sepic in two parts.

There have been several films made of this story – including, I think most recently, an HBO miniseries (though another one iscoming out in 2014 starring Batman) – they are usually attempts made by Christians (or just Hollywood epic makers) to depict the story. I think Dreamworks may have been the only Jewish effort to make it to the Big Screen, with their animated Princeof Egypt – which my kids saw a couple of years ago.

            I picked the Ten Commandments because a film made in the 50s is not going to be very bloody, and will always make sure the stars look perfect, even when they are covered in mud. But also because, unlike the other films which are titled Exodus, Moses, The Bible or Prince of Egypt, this one's title indicates where the focus lies – how the Exodus, as we too understand it, was a means to an end of getting the Ten Commandments.

            Of course, we know the Aseres Hadibros was accompanied by a Torah of 613 commandments or more. But it is the religious undertone that even the title suggests that I found to be important to share.

            I don't know if I had ever seen the film from beginning to end.

            And it's not so much the film itself – which I am sure most of you have seen - but how it begins that is most intriguing.

            The film opens with thecamera aimed at a stage curtain, and Cecil B Demille steps out from between thecurtains and says this:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Young and old.

This may seem an unusual procedure. Speaking to you before the picture begins.           But we have an unusual subject. The story of the birth of freedom. The story of Moses.

As many of you know, the holy Bible omits some 30 years of Moses' life. From the time that he was a three month old baby and was found by Bithya, the daughter of pharaoh, and adopted into the court of Egypt, until he learned that he was Hebrew and killed the Egyptian.

To fill in those missing years, we turned to ancient historians, such as Philo and Josephus. These historians had access to documents long since destroyed, or perhaps lost like the dead sea scrolls.

The theme of this picture is whether man ought to be ruled by God's law or whether they are to be ruled by the whims of a dictator like Rameses.

Are Men the property of the State, or are they free souls under God?

This same battle continues throughout the world today.

Our intention was not to create a story, but to be worthy of the divinely inspired story, created 3000 years ago: The Five books of Moses."

CB Demille got his math wrong – many more years are missing from Moshe's formative years until he returned at the age of 80 to Egypt.

But the sentiment – that the Exodus was a birth of Freedom, that the killing of the Egyptian was justified, the Question being the property of the State versus free souls, and whether man ought to be a subject of God or of a dictator, are important to hear at the outset of such a film. Lest we be caught up in the idea that this is entertainment alone.

Such an inspiration has this story been that according to Rabbi Ken Spiro's crash course in Jewish History in jewishpathways, the Puritans viewed their emigration from England as a virtual re-enactment of the Exodus. To them, England was Egypt, the king was Pharaoh, the Atlantic was the Red Sea, America was the Land of Israel, and the natives were the Canaanites. The Puritans were the new Israelites, entering into a new covenant with God in a new Promised Land.

Similarly, the founding fathers saw themselves in similar terms. Two of the proposals for the seal of the United States, advancedby Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson respectively, were

"Moses standing on the Shore, and extending his Hand over the Sea, thereby causing the same to overwhelm Pharaoh who is sitting in an open Chariot, a Crown on his Head and a Sword in his Hand. Rays from a Pillar of Fire in the Clouds reaching to Moses, to express that he acts by Command of the Deity.   

"Motto, Rebellion to Tyrants is Obedience to God."

Thomas Jefferson also suggested allegorical scenes. For the front of the seal: children of Israel in the wilderness, led by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.

The eye on top was described in the proposals as the "The Eye of Providence in a radiant Triangle whose Glory extends over the Shield and beyond the Figures."

Thomson himself explained the eye and the motto Annuit Coeptis "allude to the many signal interpositions of providence in favor of the American cause."

It should not come as a surprise that the Great Seal of the United States has an unfinished pyramid as its image. Charles Thomson gave only a brief explanation of the symbolism, saying "The pyramid signifies strength and duration" – which the website greatseal.com suggests was no doubt influenced by the Great Pyramid of Egypt.

But perhaps, in the back of their mind, the pyramid also represented the struggles of ancient Israel, without being so overtly making a nod to it.

Looking at all this, we can understand how the story of the Exodus is viewed by others as a force for Liberty. But we have a question.

The Talmud Yerushalmi in Pesachim says that when it was time to leave Egypt,  Moshe's voice carried for the distance of 40 days, to say 12:31 [שם יב לא] קומו צאו מתוך עמי. לשעבר הייתם עבדי פרעה מיכן והילך אתם עבדי ה'. באותה שעה היו אומרים [תהילים קיג א] הללויה הללו עבדי ה' ולא עבדי פרעה.

How is it that leaving slavery of Egypt to becoming slaves to Hashem – עבדי ה' is considered Liberty? How is it freedom?

In 2001, I was privileged to study drama under Danny Maseng. Danny Maseng is a very interesting Jew, who probably identifies mostly with the Reform movement. But he grew up with a Hassidic grandfather in Israel and holds many Hassidic teachings in the palm of his hand. When he was on his soul journey he studied Zen philosophy and entered the world of Buddhism, and while he identifies as Jewish, he incorporates the things he has learned along the way into how he teaches and practices drama. I studied DRAMA with him – to teach in Jewish camps.

One great Zen teaching he incorporated to this was "If you want to give a cow freedom, put afence around the meadow."

In drama this means that you have a script, the whims of the director, and the limits of the stage. But as the performer, you have your own creativity, your own interpretation of the character, how the character talks, moves, perhaps eats, and what body language it uses when relating to people and other stimuli. You have a lot of freedom.

When it comes to us as עבדי ה, it means that on one hand we have the teaching of the Anshei Knesses Hagdolah in Avos to make a Syag Latorah – to make a fence for the Torah.

But it also means that while we have rules, we have a tremendous amount of freedom. And it is the rules that keep us sane, and that keep us as model citizens in our own right.

L'havdil – there are many Hollywood celebrities who feel rules do not apply to them. Many of them have mug shots from their – in some cases multiple – arrests. How many young celebrities die young from drugs, drunk accidents or other causes that seem to have been possible only because of their reckless lifestyles?

We have a mandate to take care of ourselves. We have rules that dictate a concern for our health. Does not that make us free to live as long a life as possible?

We have Shabbos. True, we do not do מלאכה. It's a restriction. But it is very liberating. We are forced to relax, to enjoy, to eat a good meal, with calm, with peace, with family, perhaps with friends and good company, to talk about things that matter, or to talk about nothing important at all. We dedicate time for our spiritual side and religious needs in living Shabbos, and in coming to shul.

I read an article recently about a study that demonstrates that rituals – whether religious or even the simple act of having a huddle before every football play – are good for people in the long run. As Jews, we have many rituals in our davening alone. Sit for this, stand for this, sing this together, chant this aloud, respond to this call in the tefillah.

In our davening and leining, we have nusach and the taamei hamikra. There is a way the davening and leining should sound. But every chazzan, every reader, injects much of his own personality into how he does it. What melodies he picks. What intonations he utilizes. He is given a lot of freedom to exercise his creative juices. 

The rules of modesty in dress and general behavior – help us display who we are as people and not as objects. People in the general society advocate that "I can dress how I want because it's a free country." But we've all seen the sign, "No shirt no service." Or "No shoes no service." A person can be arrested for indecent exposure. So you can't really do "Whatever" you want.

We are truly free when we present ourselves as the mentchs we are. And we have the luxury of a dress code without uniforms. We can be as creative as we want, within the fence of what we call modesty. It doesn't have to be black and white. There are many shades of gray, as well as many colors in the rainbow, between the extremes of black and white.

Freedom as servants of God means not that I can do whatever I want at all times. It means that I am given a guidebook and a set of rules that help make me into an incredible person. While I forge my own personality throughout my life.

I am limited to certain meat products, but I can be as creative as I want in my kitchen.

I have to daven three times a day, but where I daven, how long it takes me, how much kavvanah I have, is my choice.

I have to learn Torah? But I can choose what I learn, how much time I dedicate to it, who is my teacher or study partner.

I have to visit the sick? Good. It makes me a better person.

I have to make a shiva visit? Good. טוב ללכת לבית אבל. It reminds me of what is important in life, and it helps the mourner remember that he or she is not alone despite the loss.

I have to honor the Torah? Good. It reminds me that God is in my life. That my ancestors were redeemed from Egypt. That God revealed Himself to them at Sinai.

I have to give money to the needy? Good. It helps me be a partner with God in helping His destitute.

I have to have children? If God blesses us to have children, there is nothing more liberating than being God's partner in Creation. And when I raise them properly, hopefully I see God in them every day.

Even the Mitzvah of having a king in Israel was for him to keep the people in line as servants of God, just as he too is a servant of God. And while the king could theoretically abuse his position, he wasn't supposed to.

My land is mine, my property is mine, my produce is mine.

I have a mitzvah to care for the Kohen, the Levi, the Ger, the stranger, the orphan and the widow, and give them some of my produce? And reserve some for God? Good! It helps me remember what true priorities are – helping the weak, the defenseless, and those who provide for my spiritual sustenance.

You want to give a cow freedom? Put a fence around that meadow. You can make it as large a fence as you want. But once there is no fence, the cow isn't free. It is lost. Very quickly.

So I credit Cecil B Demille with making the title of his movie Ten Commandments. Because it reminds us the Exodus led to being subjects of a Commander. A Commander who wanted our Liberty, granted our Freedom, and gave us an amazing gift at the liberating moment that Sinai was.

Demille said a battle plays itself out to this day – and it continues to our day as well. It is a battle fought by the media at every turn and by liberals who shun religion and mock any concept of religion because it doesn't suit their vision of "what makes sense."

And so to answer his question: Are Men the property of the State, or are they free souls under God?

 We said it on Rosh Chodesh 2 days ago - הללו עבדי ה'.

And we say an ode to our Freedom on a daily basis at the end of Uva L'tzion:

 ברוך הוא אֱלֹהֵינוּ שֶׁבְּרָאָנוּ לִכְבוֹדוֹ. וְהִבְדִּילָנוּ מִן הַתּוֹעִים. וְנָתַן לָנוּ תּוֹרַת אֱמֶת. וְחַיֵּי עוֹלָם נָטַע בְּתוֹכֵנוּ. הוּא יִפְתַּח לִבֵּנוּ בְּתוֹרָתוֹ. וְיָשֵׂם בְּלִבֵּנוּ אַהֲבָתוֹ וְיִרְאָתוֹ וְלַעֲשׂוֹת רְצוֹנוֹ וּלְעָבְדוֹ בְּלֵבָב שָׁלֵם. לְמַעַן לֹא נִיגַע לָרִיק וְלֹא נֵלֵד לַבֶּהָלָה:

Not just that we are free souls under God, but that we are free souls ONLY when we are under God.

May we too be worthy of the divinely inspired story, that we may live out our lives as עבדי ה', as we saw this morning when our ancestors began to experience a unique form of Liberty after the Plague of the Firstborn, with true appreciation of the freedom we have as His subjects.

When Judaism Meets Mother Goose

Parshat Bo

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There are a number of mitzvot associated with the Korban Pesach – the Paschal Lamb sacrifice which was first commanded in Egypt and eaten the night before the Exodus, which apply anytime the Korban Pesach is offered and eaten.

            

One of them concerns how it is to be prepared: "Do not eat it raw or [very] cooked in water, but only roasted over fire, its head, (on) its legs, and (on) its internal organs." (12:9)

            

The term translated here as "[very] cooked" appears in the Torah in the oft-called "double language" of "Vashel m'vushal" – which indicates a more severe degree of having been cooked than what Mother Goose might call "just right."

            

In the Sefer Luach Erez, the author suggests the Torah here is telling us how a person should conduct oneself when eating. Don't be so impatient that you'll eat the food raw (as is perhaps suggested in Eisav'sasking Yaakov to "halitayni Na" – give me the stew in its raw (red = uncooked lentils) stage), but don't be so lazy that you'll wait until it's overcooked before you take it off the fire.

            

As anyone who roasts meat knows, undercooked is worthless, overcooked is burnt: it has to be "just right."

            

The Luach Erez notes, that one who follows eating it "only roasted over a fire" merits (in a homiletical sense) to achieve having "his head on his legs and on his internal organs." In other words, his head – which governs his thought process and emotions, will have control over his legs and his organs – the sources of his desires.

            

While this interpretation is certainly not to be understood as the simple understanding of the Torah (the Torah is talking about different parts of the animal that will be eaten), the lesson is quite compelling.

            

What does it take to get a person not to be an extremist, to come to his senses, and to do what is mandated of him? Answer: Following a middle path.

            

Eating something roasted – in a manner in which it is "just right" – is a metaphor for doing any activity just right. Of course, such a definition is relative, and people will have different understandings of what is considered the best way. Maimonides spoke of the Golden Mean – not to be extreme in either direction – and his instructions in Hilchot De'ot, when followed, could be extremely helpful.

What is considered extreme?

            

Heaping stringency on top of stringency is one extremity.Tearing apart the fabric of our society for the sake of liberalism is a different extreme.

Running to a rabbi for every question, putting absolute faith in rabbis at all times, defending rabbis who are fallible humans when their actions prove they are not beyond reproach, is one extreme. Calling rabbis fools or other ad-hominem names, just because you disagree or think they are not fit to have an opinion on a matter, is also an extreme. Dialogue is good. Making it personal is not.

Saying kashrus certification is corrupt and can't be trusted is one extreme. Saying you can look at ingredients and decide for yourself what is OK is another extreme. Unfortunately there is a lot more to every food prepared for consumers than meets the eye.

            

Defining modesty in dress – which applies to everyone, though is more often a discussion regarding women, whose acceptable options in society are so much more varied – in terms of lengths of sleeves, skirts, slits, shorts, collars, pants, etc. is one extreme. Because these set-in-stone or objective definitions are different depending on the society and local culture. And, quite frankly, people can follow all the guidelines and still be immodest. Skin-tight clothes, ten thousand dollar sheitels, hip boots, gaudy fur coats are all anything but modest.

            

Even in spring and summer time, or year-round at the gym, men and women make choices that can either be extreme in one direction (sleeveless – men and women, shirtless – men, really short shorts – men and women, what does the top cover – women), or in the other direction, such as wearing clothes that do not fit the activity at all (such as a suit and tie when playing basketball).

            

Even Torah learning can be taken to an extreme. One can neglect one's hygiene, health, or responsibility to provide for a family on account of extreme Torah learning. One can also neglect Torah learning and growth as a Jew altogether, which is the opposite extreme.

            

Some choose to write off those who practice Judaism differently from their own little box as outside of what they consider mainstream Judaism (the left and the right are very fond of this). This is extremism.

            

Some choose to push the envelope beyond the very large fence that includes adherence to halakha as defined by the Shulchan Arukh and Maimonides (which have been accepted as the main Codes of Jewish Law) to either go outside the box, or to include stringencies which were never intended. Both of these are also extremism.

            

Are you familiar with the image of the family around the fireplace, perhaps roasting marshmallows, sitting and enjoying one another's company? That feeling that things are just perfect, and everything is just right? You know, the same way Goldilocks felts about Baby Bear's soup, chair and bed?

            

That is what it means to roast one's Korban Pesach to perfection, and to have one's "head on his legs and on his internal organs," when sechel (common sense), guided by adherence to a halakhic system, dictates how one controls one's desires, yes, but also helps make proper choices that are not guided by extremism. 

Our challenge is to avoid negatively imposing one hashkafa (Jewish outlook) on our Jewish brethren, who may look at things differently, while encouraging a way of life that is fulfilling and meaningful.

            

May we be so lucky to achieve such perfection.