Rabbi Menachem Recanati, the 13th century Italian commentator, quotes the Zohar in making what is seemingly a bizarre claim: that until Avraham was circumcised, he was never intimate with Sarah. (17:1) This theory is premised in the idea that the foreskin is a barrier to an element of spiritual fulfillment that is “impossible” for the uncircumcised male to achieve. Sarah’s awareness of this reality, long before her husband was given any commandment, caused her to see her marriage as a spiritual one and to never seek a physical connection with her husband.
This would explain very simply why Sarah was so insistent that Avraham take an Egyptian woman in order to father a child (at least ten years into their marriage and 14 years before his circumcision) and why Avraham and Sarah are married for at least 25 years without children.
Their relationship also teaches us important lessons about what true knowledge is.
Earlier in the parsha, Avraham makes a strange declaration. As he and Sarah (Avram and Sarai at the time) are heading to Egypt to find food during a famine, he declares, “Now I know (Hinei Na Yadati) that you are a beautiful woman.” (12:11)
Avraham has been married to Sarah for some time and only now he realizes she is beautiful? How could this be? Radak gives a simple answer, that “Hinei Na” is simply how people spoke. It’s not like this was a revelation that had been undetected before. And Chizkuni says the verse should be read like this: “I know that since you are a beautiful woman, when the Egyptians see you they'll….”
Aside from that, each of the many explanations given has its own lesson attached to it. A good challenge is to take the interpretation you like and develop an applied lesson on your own.
We are going to a nation where your beauty surpasses all they (the locals) have ever seen (Midrash Aggadah); Avraham never looked at her before (perhaps following the Zohar’s approach) (Baba Batra 16a) and first noticed her beauty when they crossed a river on their way to Egypt (Tanchuma); She fell in the river and he helped her wring out the clothes she was still wearing, thereby seeing her leg for the first time (Midrash Aggadah); a person normally becomes weary from the road, yet she was still beautiful (Pesikta); now that they’d traveled to so many places, and Avraham had met many people to compare to his wife, he realizes how amazingly beautiful she truly is and appreciates how special she is (Pesikta); this was the first time he needed to be concerned about her beauty, safetywise, due to where they were going (Rashi); specifically because they were going to a kingdom where beautiful women were abducted by the king, he expressed his innermost feelings (Ramban).
When the Talmud (BB 16a) says Avraham never looked at his wife, it says “Lo havei Yada Lah,” which means he didn’t know her. We can understand in the literal sense, that perhaps they married hardly knowing one another. This is common practice even today, in communities where couples go on a few dates, they get a good feeling, it seems like it can work, and they spend a lifetime getting to know one another. In a healthy, beautiful way.
On the other hand, following a certain theme, and knowing that the Biblical term “knowing” sometimes refers to marital intimacy, it could be the Talmud is confirming the words of the Zohar with which we started.
Particularly if we view the forefathers as human beings (albeit extraordinary ones) it is still very difficult to come to grips with the Zohar and the Talmud. It is hard to imagine a life and a marriage dedicated completely to spiritual endeavors and pursuits, without a physical component.
Which is why I like to think, rationally perhaps, and following Radak and Chizkuni, that there wasn’t as much depth in what Avraham was saying as we like to read into it.
However, we must take note that Avraham also uses the word “yodea,” when he says “Honei na yadati” – now I know something which may or may not have been apparent before. The ability to make such a statement comes from a tremendous awareness of self.
We live in a time when many people “know” everything. Social media, one of the greatest blessings and ills of our time, is a great example of this. News gets out in a flash, and everyone has an opinion, knows all the details, becomes judgmental, figures everything out, knows the flaws of the other guy (because, as each contributor notes to oneself, “I am perfect, hilarious, and always right, while the other guy is a ____”) But while knowledge is power, the display of arrogance that often comes across with all of this, typically indicates a lack of knowledge.
And so the lessons we can learn from Avraham’s declaration and marriage are many. Let us focus on three of them.
A marriage can not only be a physical marriage. Avraham and Sarah had a spiritual marriage, which transcended material challenges. Being on the same page in their relationship with God helped their marriage survive many obstacles.
Marriage contains two kinds of “yedia” – knowing. One is the Biblical knowing of intimacy, in which two people connect and appreciate one another in a personal and private way. The other is the knowing which comes from spending time with one another, and getting to know one another as the unique individual with the unique experience each has in life. To learn from one another, to grow in caring for one another. Whether it was, as Rashi calls it, a “mayseh” (event – probably referring to the water event mentioned above) that helped Avraham see his wife differently than before, or just the simple task of going on a journey alone to Egypt, without their followers, or even Nephew Lot, they just got to talk and know one another better.
Finally, knowledge is not always intuitive. Knowledge which has value sometimes comes after a real thought process, which includes true inspection and true introspection. A gathering of all evidence, an awareness of one’s surroundings, a look at one’s audience, an appreciation of others and their contribution to the world. And a humility that says, I may know something, but I don’t know everything.
Avraham was able to say “I now know or am aware of something, that I didn’t know or was not aware of before.” Only the brightest people say this because they are able to admit that “I didn’t know all before, and I’m still learning.” This acknowledgement is a wonderful example of Abrahamic humility
May the lessons we take serve us well in all of our relationships.
When we are
introduced to Noach at the beginning of the parsha, Rashi notes that his being
called a “tzaddik” (righteous man) – “in his generation” could be interpreted
either positively or negatively. Positively, had Noach lived in another
generation, he’d have been even greater. Negatively, only because he was
compared to such terrible people was Noach considered great in his day.
But honestly, I don’t understand
the question. The Torah does say in the first verse of Chapter 7, “And God said
to Noach, ‘Come with your family to the Ark, because I see you to be a tzaddik
before Me in this generation.’”
Perhaps this verse can also be
read both ways, but I think the more correct reading is “You are unique in your
time.” But not in a different generation.
Why is this language used?
The Or HaChaim explains that
Noach needed to be reminded that he was the tzaddik in comparison to the people
of his generation, because maybe Noach would think to bring a whole bunch of
people on board – people he felt were not deserving of punishment, when indeed
they were not innocent.
Don’t we all have friends we’d
want to save if we were making a boat big enough to hold dozens of people, if
not more?
This is why, Or HaChaim
suggests, Noach needed to be told to bring his family. Even they were unworthy
of being saved. They were only brought on board because they were his family.
“Because you are the (only) tzaddik I see in this generation.”
The midrash (which Rashi also
quotes) goes in a different direction when it claims this is a demonstration of
God not saying Noach’s complete praise in front of him (earlier he was called a
“tzaddik tamim” – a perfect righteous man – when the Torah introduced him, but
he was not being personally addressed).
Kli Yakar raises a different
possibility, that two events transpired which brought God to say this to Noach.
Firstly, after 120 years of Ark construction, it was apparent that no one was
repenting. Secondly, there had been one other righteous person, Noach’s
grandfather Metushelach (Methuselah), who passed away right before God’s
declaration to Noach that he is the only righteous person alive today. Kli
Yakar even suggests the declaration came after Noach’s 7 days of mourning (his
father had died 5 years earlier, leaving him as the sole mourner for his
grandfather), because there was a thought that people who witnessed the death
and mourning over the righteous Metushelach would be inspired to return to God.
Of course, this didn’t happen.
And while this is certainly an
admirable trait of Noach – perhaps even a divine trait in his day – this is the
type of thing that is no outstanding accomplishment in a world where people
understand that what is mine is mine and what is your is yours until currency
and therefore ownership exchanges hands.
It is certainly possible that
had Noach lived in another time he would have been an amazing man. But the
focus in our verse (7:1) seems to pinpoint his specific generation. And if
indeed he had no friends worthy of being saved, and not even his family to save
were it not for his own merit, then he was unique in his own time.
Was there ever a time when there
were bad people when there were not good people as well? Was there ever a time
when there was only one person who lived in a moral high ground?
God has the right to judge all
the persons of the world. He made them. They owe their lives to him. But we who
all sin through the year, who all experience Yom Kippur, are not Noachs, not in
our generation nor in any generation.
Kohelet (7:20) said, “There is
no human tzaddik in the land who does good but does not sin.” It seems in this
sense, that Noach was very unique. We have the benefit of thousands of years of
distance, tradition, and commentary to look at Noach however we want to. We can
read the verses one way and say he never sinned. We can read them another way
and say he was nothing to write home about.
In our generation, obviously,
sins, in the eyes of man, are by degree. Some are the type people shrug off,
some merely raise eyebrows, and some are viewed as heinous and despicable.
Opinions are always going to be formed about the actions of others. But before
we publish our opinions or scream from the top of the mountain, we need to ask
ourselves how self-righteous we really are.
“I may not be perfect but I’m
better than that person.” I don’t defend sins of a religious nature, and
certainly not of a criminal nature. But I wonder how many people who rush to
defame sinners would stand the Noach test – Noach who had not a single friend
or family member who merited to be saved from the flood, were it not for his
merit in his generation.
In 2008 (before I put my weekly dvar Torahs in this blog), I wrote the following dvar Torah about Zimri's attitude towards Moshe in Parshat Balak + Pinchas.
Nope. Power it was. She is so right (see below). Dr. Brown also concludes saying what very few bloggers have said - this is not a "rabbinic" problem. Most rabbis are wonderful people who care deeply about their congregants, and a scandal like this is not only nowhere near their radar screen, but would never even enter their minds. (here is Rabbi Efrem Goldberg relaying a similar message)
A wonderful rabbi I admire greatly has told me several times over the years of his view of where some rabbis fall. Point #1: "A rabbi cannot have an ego." [Much longer discussion...] Point #2 (WADR to physicians): "You know what is the difference between a doctor and a rabbi? A doctor saves a life, tells you when you're going to die. He thinks he's God! So if he is going to be arrogant, that's OK. He is God. But a RABBI thinks he represents God. And for this [role] one must hide under the table." In other words, the rabbi must learn from Moses, who was "the humblest of all men."
Since better writers than I have already said it all, and since I don't want to look like a Monday morning quarterback (a lot of people seem to have all the answers about what is wrong with rabbis, mikveh standards, conversion standards, and Judaism), I'll just share a Torah thought - unedited from 2008 (though I did put some parts in bold) - and you can understand where Dr. Brown and I agree.
Parshat Balak or Pinchas
How Not to Earn Respect
Rabbi Yochanan said, "He had five names: Zimri, Ben Salu, Shaul, Ben Ha'Canaanit, and Shlumiel ben Tzuri-shadai. Zimri because he was like a stale egg, Ben Salu because he caused people to speak of the sins of his family, Shaul because he lent himself ("hish'il") to sin, Ben Ha'Canaanit because he did a Canaanite act, and his real name was Shlumiel ben Tzuri-shadai." (Sanhedrin 82b) While the Talmud clearly defines the names presented into five sections, there are those who would argue that Zimri is identified here as the same "Shaul ben Ha'Canaanit" who is identified as one of the sons of Shimon who came down to Egypt with Jacob and sons. (Breishit 46:10) A positive identification would indicate he somehow managed to survive 210 years of Egyptian living and bondage, another 40 years of wandering, and is now committing this act with Kozbi as a sprite and seasoned 250-year-old, if he's not even older. Not bad for a man his age. A 20th century rosh yeshiva or mashgiach (whose identity eludes me) offered the following response to this hypothetical age: "Ich bin an alter yid." ("I am an old Jew") The rabbi proceeded to explain that the act of defiance Zimri committed, for which Pinchas took his life as punishment, seems out of character for such an elderly man. He argued that there comes a time when the real desire an older person has is power and "kavod" — honor. While some desires dissipate, some never go away (though they may remain in check), and some become increasingly important in our mind's eye. We have a very difficult time letting go. We want dignity. We don't want to be written off. We don't want to ride off into the sunset. We want to feel necessary and important. We want to feel as if we matter. And there's no reason why anyone should ever feel any other way. The question becomes how we go about achieving that. Obviously Zimri's chosen course of action is not an option. While some public figures use Zimri's preferred expression of power to their benefit (or to the destruction of their reputation), this is not a markedly Jewish approach.
What is a key to achieving deserved honor? Mishlei (Proverbs) 15:33 says "Yirat Hashem Mussar Hokhma, v'lifnei kavod anavah" — Fear of G-d is the discipline that leads to wisdom, and honor must be preceded by humility. King Solomon (author of Proverbs) is telling us that one who desires the ability to achieve wisdom and to understand the Torah must have a fundamental base rooted in fear of G-d. More importantly, fear of G-d leads to humility, the key ingredient to truly becoming honored and revered. In a preview to the previously quoted Talmudic passage, Sanhedrin 82a presents Zimri confronting Moshe: "[pointing at Kozbi, the Moabite] Son of Amram! Is she permissible to me or prohibited? If you say prohibited, who permitted you to marry the daughter of Yitro [the Midianite]?" His arrogant, disrespectful, flippant approach ultimately led to his destruction. His attempt to humiliate Moshe to prove an irrelevant point was beyond out of line. Moshe's marriage to Zipporah was before the giving of the Torah, when even his own identity was uncertain. Yet she clearly chose to join the Jewish people, as evidenced by her being one of the two most famous "mohels" in the Torah. (Shmot 4:25)
Zimri certainly should have known better, but humility played no role in his life as presented in this story. A person with fear of G-d, who seeks wisdom, who does not look for justification from others for his behavior, who is humble, is the one most deserving of respect.
No matter what picture is painted in other rabbinic sources of Zimri's knowledge and intentions, no amount of scholarship or position provides an excuse for his behavior.
While Pinchas's action worked in that time and place and was approved of by G-d, whose presence was known and felt in a more obvious way than now, Pinchas did teach us that when injustice is served by the flawed behavior of a leader, we have an obligation to stand up for what is right.
Through an important internal check-and-balance system, those who deserve respect will certainly earn it. And no one will stand for the shenanigans of those who do not.
The Biblical account of the creation of mankind is one of the most difficult series of passages in all of the Torah. Scores of interpretations have tried to bring light to the most hidden secrets embedded within the text, many of them fraught with controversy. Some take Creation literally, and some argue that it has deeper, non literal messages, and that the world is far older than 6000 years of history, as calculated through the Bible's stories.
In 1925 the "Scopes Monkey Trial" convened in Dayton with the schoolteacher John Scopes on trial for teaching evolution, a practice which, at the time, was prohibited by law. He was prosecuted by a team of lawyers which included three-time presidential candidate William Jennings Bryan. Over the course of the trial, Bryan himself took the stand as an expert of the Bible. His purpose: to explain how the Bible is to be understood literally, leaving evolution as an impossibility.
One of the questions and comments raised by the defense attorney, Clarence Darrow, was "Did you ever discover where Cain got his wife?... Where she came from you do not know." (based on 4:17) Bryan affirmed that this problem never bothered him and should not be taken as a proof that the Bible contains holes and flaws.
An objective reading of the description of the creation of man strengthens this question: if we are eventually told of the births of Adam’s sons and daughters (5:4 – after the birth of Shet, the son who “replaced Hevel”), why are we not told of the births of any other children earlier on - daughters for example – especially if they will play such important roles in populating the world as the wives of Adam’s sons?
Chazal offer the interpretation that Cain and Hevel were each born with a twin sister he would eventually marry. While the twin idea introduces a perfect match for Cain's personal shidduch crisis, the literal minded reader of the Torah is left searching for a better answer.
A simple reading of the text of Breishit may show how the Torah in its original form may even contain the answer to the question of Cain's wife.
Rav Mordechai Breuer notes the two accounts of creation in the Torah, the first in chapter one and the second in chapter two, each of which teaches us a different aspect of God’s creating in this world. The first chapter uses the name “Elokim” alone and focuses on “briah” – ex nihilo creation of the natural order, while the second chapter introduces the Tetragrammaton name to the creation of man and focuses on “yetzirah” – fashioning the world as per God’s specific task for mankind.
Rav Breuer’s approach is very complicated, and he painstakingly goes through a very detailed explanation to support his argument that the Torah is written with two “bechinot” – perspectives in mind, each aimed at presenting a different aspect of God’s role in this world. To be understood best, it should be read in its entirety.
Rav Breuer does not suggest the following, but using his groundwork as a springboard it is possible to suggest a literal solution to the origin of Cain’s wife.
The sixth day (chapter one) lays the groundwork for the creation of humanity: male and female are placed on earth at the same time, unnamed, to fill their natural order of inhabiting the earth.
The account in chapter two focuses directly on the creation of a specific, at-first partnerless, man, Adam, who is later given an “ezer k’negdo,” his wife, Chava. These specific humans are placed in Gan Eden to care for the garden, and are commanded to stay away from the Tree of Knowledge. Their existence is in a higher spiritual realm than the male and female of chapter one.
The traditional approach is that both accounts refer to the same two humans.
An objective reading of these two chapters, however, does not need to equate the original "male and female" population with Adam and Chava, especially since the two accounts have completely different timeframes guiding the creation of the humans in question. In this reading, Cain's wife may be a product of the humans mentioned in the account of the creation of humanity of chapter one.
In stating that Cain’s wife was a product of the same pregnancy as Cain, the truly authoritative Chazal chose to address a question they could have just as easily ignored. As William Jennings Bryan felt no need to question her origins, we the faithful can certainly satisfy ourselves with the interpretation of the great sages who came before us.
But they addressed the quandary of Cain’s wife’s origins because a question one has on any aspect of the Torah needs an authoritative answer. Our challenge is to seek out the answers to our questions, using the wisdom of our forebears as guides to finding the truth.
Arguably the greatest lesson in the growth of a mind steeped in Jewish thought and practice is how to ask the really hard, yet really important questions, and how to develop the drive to leave no stone unturned while seeking the answers which help us come closer to real understanding in the lifelong struggle to comprehend the essence of the Torah.
One of my favorite words in all of Halakhic literature is the one which describes Sukkah decorations. “Noy Sukkah” is the phrase, and the word I love is “Noy.” Maybe because it sounds yeshivish, but it’s not.
Considering that one is supposed to be able to see the Skhakh (sukkah ceiling), and the inability to see the Skhakh may render the Sukkah unkosher, I like to kid around with children, “What do you have when your decorations don’t allow you to see your Skhakh? Noy Sukkah!” [Insert groan here]
When one reads the discussion on the Shulchan Arukh on this subject, what becomes abundantly clear is that the abundance of plastic fruits (ie. the faux grapes and pomegranates) we hang around the sukkah, were not very common in the Middle Ages.
So how was the sukkah decorated, and for what purpose? And why, in heaven’s name, does the Halakha declare the decorations to be muktze (prohibited from being touched) for all the days of the holiday? Really – the laminated photograph my child brought home from kindergarten is muktze? How could that be?
Read the Shulchan Arukh (OC 638), and we begin to understand. “Foods and drinks that we hang in the Sukkah in order to beautify it, can’t be used for eight days, even if they fell (and on Shabbos, they can’t be touched because they are muktze). However, if one made a condition that it can’t be used during [a certain time period] then it can be used otherwise… The Maharil did not allow the condition anymore, and that is the accepted practice for decorations which hang from the Skhakh. However, decorations which adorn the walls, such as decorated sheets/drapery, may be removed (and brought indoors) when it rains, even if no condition was made. If a person used hadasim as skhakh or hung an esrog as decoration because of its beauty, one may smell it as long as he doesn’t touch it.”
It seems that back in the day people would hang from their skhakh either real food or containers that held drinks in them. And they would adorn their walls with beautiful drapery. And, as much as the “Noy Sukkah” was meant to be a decoration, there was a potential practical side to the thought process people had because the decorations could be otherwise useful.
The Mishnah Brurah notes that “If he knows children will eat from the decorations, it’s better not to hang them. The strings used will get all knotted and one will come to violate Shabbos [because untying knots is forbidden]… However if things can be set at such a height that kids can’t reach them, that is better. After all, the Shla”h (Shnei Luchot Habrit) wrote that it is ideal to beautify one’s sukkah with draperies and with important fruit.”
The Ro”sh's comment can be viewed as adding to the Shulchan Arukah when he explains that decorations could be removed from the sukkah if one is concerned that either the rain or thieves will ruin them, as long as a condition to remove them during the holiday was made beforehand.
The argument is circular, however, when one considers the Drisha on Orach Chaim 21, who explains why the decorations might be considered untouchable. When one examines the verse in parshat Emor (Vayikra 23:34) that explains that “You will make this holiday for yourself, seven days for your God,” one sees that the Talmud (Sukkah 8a) explains that “just as the name of heaven is invoked on the Hagigah offering, it is invoked on the Sukkah itself. Therefore the Sukkah decorations are forbidden from deriving benefit from (which is separate from the pleasure one gets from simply having a beautified Sukkah) because one is misusing an edifice that has the Name of Heaven on it. This is the same reason why one shouldn’t smell the Esrog one shakes. The mitzvah is to take it and to hold it, not to get benefit from it in any way. Such a use is a demonstration of misusing the mitzvah-related item.”
Could the halakha really be that nit-picky? It seems the answer is yes. It’s not about the specific item. Because obviously the draperies can be removed. The question becomes what is considered the Sukkah, and are we using it properly?
Since no one hangs fruits from their ceiling in their home, and no one keeps drinks anywhere but on a table or shelf, the beautification of the sukkah seems to be the only agenda. Who takes a painting off a wall in one’s house to eat from it? Lickable wallpaper might have been a Willy Wonka creation, but it really has no place anywhere.
So I think the untouchable status of sukkah decorations really boils down to our attitude in putting it up and what the item actually is. A kindergarten project, for example, has no practical use other than being a cute thing a child made. If it falls down and the child wants to show it to people, it is not forbidden to touch. But if the decoration has some other value or purpose, such as food which can be eaten, it becomes "muktze" onced assigned as a sukkah decoration.
Perhaps even something which serves no purpose other than to beautify the sukkah (such as tinsel) might also not be considered untouchable if it falls because there’s no way to derive benefit from it.
I have never seen anyone hang real fruit from a sukkah (we just don’t do that!), but were someone to do so, this seems to be the problematic kinds of Noy Sukkah, from which one cannot derive added pleasure from actually using it for a constructive purpose, such as putting it in a salad or simply eating it directly. It has been dedicated to beautify the Sukkah.
Hopefully we can enjoy our beautified Sukkahs without getting anNOYed at kids or adults who want to touch the decorations, whether with intent or just for practical reasons (e.g. to avoid bumping into it). It is nice for the sukkah to be decorated. And it is even more nice when we don’t use our “frumkeit” to cause anyone to be uncomfortable.
There is one part of the davening during
this time period which has a very unique impact on me every time it comes
around. And it’s even more profound when I actually lead the Selichos. It is in
the section of שמע קולנו.
אל תשליכנו לעת
זקנה ככלות כוחינו אל תעזבנו
It is most striking for me, because it is
one of the clearest memories I have of my grandfather, ZL, who passed away 15
years ago on the first night of Rosh Hashana. He had Parkinsons disease for the
last 9 years of his life. But whether I sat in shul with him or whether it was
just in our house, I recall how my grandfather, who never complained about his
ailments, would say אל תשליכנו לעת זקנה. God,
don’t forsake me and cast me off into old age, when my strength ebbs, don’t
abandon me.
My grandfather, who was fond of reminding
me that a person who eats horseradish for a 100 years lives to be an old man,
was not a complainer. He used to tell me, in his slight European accent, “Once
upon a time I was a young man.” That was his way of saying, I’m an old man now
and I can’t do the things I could do in my youth.
אל תשליכנו לעת
זקנה ככלות כוחינו אל תעזבנו
I can’t explain why it resonates with me.
My grandfather was double my current age when I was born. I feel, and hope, that the actual words shouldn't be my reality for a long time. But still – I can’t
shake that memory.
Maybe it’s related to what comes before
it. In Selichos, we say תביאנו אל הר קדשך… before
we get into Shema Koleinu. My grandfather would always – and when I say always,
I mean ALWAYS – mention the גאולה שלימה. He read
the book אם הבנים שמחה, Rabbi
Yossochor Teichtel’s treatise about the return to ציון, as his bible. In every family event when we’d whip out the
video camera and ask Grampy for a statement, he’d say something like “יעזר הקבה שנראה
את הגאולה שלימה במהרה בימינו. “ That
God should help us see the Final Redemption – so the idea of והביאותים אל הר
קדשי ושמתחים בבית תפילתי in its
own way already gets me thinking about him.
In yeshiva we’d always sing those words –
והביאותים אל הר קדשי – in
both Mussaf and in Neilah, and often before opening the Aron for Shema Koleinu.
It helps us remember – יזכור – that this life is incomplete without a complete return to
Zion. My grandfather knew this. He also knew that there’s a major difference
between עוד ישבו זקנים וזקנות ברחובות ירושלים. - That
the elderly sit in rebuilt Jerusalem, where they should be honored and revered - And not being cast off in old age
אל תשליכנו לעת
זקנה ככלות כוחינו אל תעזבנו.
One more story: the last time I spoke
with my grandfather in any memorable way – because he couldn’t speak coherently
for the last year of his life - was when my father and I went to visit him shortly before Pesach. It's amazing how when we'd put his tefillin on him, all the words which were unclear melted away and Shema Yisrael was clearly what he was saying.
Anyway, when we got there, his nurse told us he normally eats well, but today he wasn't cooperating. I was left alone with him for a moment, and he kept saying, "Zmanim. Zmanim." Zmanim means "time." What on earth was he talking about? As I continued to press him, it occurred to me that he thought it was Yom Kippur. He knew he wasn't well, that he had to eat something. But he also wanted to know when Yom Kippur would be over, so he could resume eating normally. We tried to tell him it was a few days before Pesach. But he didn't believe us.
Here he is, in a relative state of mental incapacity, and he's thinking it's Yom Kippur.
We all know of people who have lost
control of parts of their mind and body, and sometimes it brings out the worst
in them. Which they obviously get a pass for – they are not themselves. But
what comes out in one's lost state of mind? Some people get drunk and become the most
embarrassing mess. I’ve seen people get drunk and share chiddushei torah. Crazy Torah thoughts, sometimes. But words of Torah.
For my grandfather, he thought it was YK.
What do we think about when the going
gets tough?
It’s too hot. It’s too cold. My phone
died. I can’t figure out these apps. There was a line at Costco. Excuse me,
BJs. The rabbi spoke too long. Davening took too long. The chazzan schlepped.
The chazzan was no good. There wasn’t enough food. The chuppah went on and on.
It’s this person’s fault, It’s that person’s fault. The clock was broken. The
computer didn’t work. The customer service person couldn’t even speak English.
It’s the Democrats. It’s the Republicans.
The Synagogue was being named for Hadar
Goldin, one of the soldiers killed – before his wedding, by the way – in Israel during
the summer. The Torah was being dedicated in memory of Daniel Turgeman, the
four year old boy killed by rocket fire by one of those little rockets that
don’t hurt anyone because Israel has an iron dome, as some in the mainstream
media put it. It was amazing to see – and my father, who is involved with some
of these Torah dedications, tells me this is a growing phenomenon in Israel –
not religious kibbutzim are building synagogues and having Torahs dedicated.
And in cases like this, in memory of people who were killed simply because they
were Jewish. What are they thinking about? That there’s a lot more that unites
the Jewish people than divides the Jewish people. That the Torah is not only
for the observant. Every person who is Jewish has a חלק in the Torah.
When we say אל תשליכנו לעת
זקנה ככלות כוחינו אל תעזבנו, we
aren’t really asking that we die young so we never have the chance to be cast
off in old age. As we all know. Which is one reason why these tragic losses
must be remembered. Husbands, Fathers, sons, fiances, grandsons, a little boy. They never had the chance to cry out to Hashem
for real. We must think about them during Yizkor. We must think about them when
we daven and pray, no matter how much, or how often, we daven and pray.
When the going gets tough we miss our
loved ones. I have met many elderly people who tell me, “I speak to my mother
every day.” The mother died a long time ago. But she isn’t dead. She lives
inside her daughter, who is now in her eighties. Rabbi Soloveitchik’s father
died when he was 38. For the rest of his life, he pictured his father when he
was learning Torah, and of course at the yearly yarzeit shiur he gave, for
several hours. And I know many people remember their loved ones daily. Not just
at Yizkor on Yom Kippur or some other holiday.
What is the goal of the instructions for
the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur – ולא ימות! He
shouldn’t die! His sons died serving God in an inappropriate fashion. Let that
not be Aharon’s fate.
But you know what’s amazing about even
the deaths of Aharon’s sons? They never seem to be forgotten. In the Torah
they’re mentioned 3 times as Aharon’s sons AFTER THEY ARE DEAD. I know families
who have Rachmana Litzlan lost children. Ask them how many children they have,
and they usually say the number that reflects their living children. There are
some who say the number that they had who were born, even though one is no
longer alive. But that is far less the case – because it is awkward, strange,
and not sociologically acceptable.
But I applaud those who can do so.
Because they live Yizkor all the time. Not only do they remember, but they also
don’t forget. They don’t push it aside. It becomes part of who they are – and
in many many cases, it makes them stronger, and closer to one another.
Yes, the opposite happens as well,
sometimes. And that makes for a double tragedy – the loss of the family member,
and the loss of the cohesion of family.
But in Aharon’s case, it seems it made
the union stronger. There was a concern that Aharon not die. Sometimes death is
the end, but sometimes the "living death" is even more tragic. I spoke with a
younger man this week, who told me that his father has severe brain damage – I
don’t recall the episode that caused this, whether it was a stroke or some kind
of physical trauma. And they have been praying for years that his suffering
end. They don’t even ask for a refuah shleimah any more. There is no refuah. We
know what this means. It is a horrible existence. Hashem Yerachem.
Maybe for Aharon the concern was that the
loss of his sons should not make him dead to the world. The Bnei Yisrael NEEDED
Aharon! לא ימות!
There’s a halakha that says that a person
who is married is preferred to lead the services on the High Holidays. Because
the person who knows what it means to be a בעל רחמים, for his wife, for his children, can stand as the best
representative of the Tzibbur.
Who better than Aharon could serve in
such a capacity? Who better than Aharon could stand before the Ribbono Shel
Olam and pray, beg, for mercy for Bnei Yisrael? Who better than Aharon could
beseech the Creator and say, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GOD! Have mercy! Let none
suffer the way I have suffered! Let none experience loss the way I have
experience loss! And let those who suffer loss לא ימות! And perhaps bless me too that אל תשליכנו לעת
זקנה ככלות כוחינו אל תעזבנו.
Moshe and Aharon live out their lives in
good health until their dying day. They are never cast off into old age! What a
bracha! What a bracha….
Last night I mentioned the need to set
personal goals on Yom Kippur.
Here are a few that I take from what has
been said until now.
11. Tap into our essence. What will come out of our
brains and mouths when we are not in control. We have to train ourselves to
speak and to think pure thoughts. To continue to always try to build upon our
connection to our Father in Heaven.
2.אל תשליכנו לעת זקנה ככלות כוחינו אל תעזבנו – We
pray for good health, and to be in a community where aging is embraced by the
younger people, who honor and respect and do not cast off the elderly. And of
course, good health also comes with a price tag, the hishtadlus necessary, our
responsibility to do our part to maintain our good physical health, through
good habits, and our good spiritual health, through prayer, learning, and a
constant climbing to the goal of getting as close to God as humanly possible.
3 3. לא ימות. Not
only to not die. But to not die inside. Don’t shut off the world. Don’t be out
of touch. Don’t close people out. Don’t let even tragedy set us back. If Aharon
could move on after losing two sons in a moment, hopefully all of our setbacks
pale in comparison. It is through an embracing of life and the people around us
that life itself becomes meaningful and fulfilling and worth the effort.
4. Never forget our loved ones. Don’t remember them only
on the 4 Yizkors of the year. Remember them always. The impact they had in our
lives. Talk to them. Listen to their counsel. Improve upon the education they
gave us and the world they laid open for us. And become the best humans and
Jews we can be.
5. Keep Zion in our hearts at all times. We must
remember, we cannot forget, our brothers and sisters in Israel. Jews all over
the world are still attacked for being Jews. It seemed it was getting better
since the Holocaust. But we see it is getting worse. We thank God for the
tolerant and the Ohavei Yisrael who understand that bigotry has no place in a
civilized world. But much of the world – and certain elements of its
population, and certain religions – remain uncivilized. The real Shivas Zion –
Israel is what we often call the ראשית צמיחת גאולתינו – is incomplete until the Messiah comes. Israel is at the front
line in the war to save humanity from itself, as Prime Minister Netanyahu just
articulated to the United Nations this week. So we remember the citizens of
Israel who gave their lives this summer – from the three kidnapped and murdered
boys, Naftali, Gilad and Eyal , to the 67 soldiers who fell in מבצע צוק איתן – Operation Protective Edge, and the civilians who lost their
lives as well. We owe it to them to support and grow that which they gave their
lives for – עם ישראל, ארץ ישראל, and to live as a Jew, not only unashamed, but PROUD that I
have ה אלקינו ה אחד above
me, and that I am part of a people who have given and continue to contribute so
much to this world.
On a personal note, I hope I always
remember, and never forget – Hashem tells us this form a few times in the Torah
– זכור and לא תשכח – that והביאותים אל הר קדשי precedes
אל תשליכנו לעת זקנה ככלות כוחינו אל תעזבנו.
Because remembering Zion is how my
grandfather lived, and with אל תשליכנו לעת זקנה ככלות כוחינו אל תעזבנו – that’s how he died. Never wanting to be cast off. Never
wanting to let go. Pushing himself to go to shul when it took him twenty
minutes to get from his front door to the car, because they lived in a
brownstone that had 20 steps from street to front door. And who always
remembered that ה promised
there will be a גאולה שלימה. And as
a person who believed wholeheartedly in God, at every turn in his life – a
bris, a bat mitzvah, a birthday, a Chanukah party, a wedding, he demonstrated for me what
it means to believe there is light at the end of a tunnel. People live, people
die. But HKBH reigns. And he promised that there is a brighter future. When עוד ישבו זקנים
וזקנות ברחובות ירושלים.
Maybe Yizkor, Remember, is something we
do 4 times a year simply because it’s a reminder. It is a service of the lip.
But the real challenge is all year לא תשכח, not to forget. Not to forget is the mandate we all have –
because it takes effort not to forget. We have to take responsibilities upon
ourselves, and live lives that reflect what our forbears set for us.
We remember. We must. But even moreso, we
must take all these responsibilities upon ourselves year round, so that we not
forget. And with this, we should be blessed with a שנת חיים וברכה, a year of life and blessing.
Were we to take a
look back at the year that was 5774, many of us would probably look at the
events of the summer in Israel, and the backlash that continues to send EuropeanJews to seek safer locations for their families, as the defining moments of the
year for the Jewish people.
The kidnapping of
Naftali Frankel, Eyal Yifrach and Gilad Shaer, HYD, the weeks that followed
their kidnapping, and the uncertainty of their safety, which culminated with
the discovery that they had been dead all along, and of course the summertime
war which followed – which while damaging to Hamas – cost Israel 67 soldiersand 5 civilians, as well as hundreds wounded.
We were in camp, and
it was actually visiting day when I started getting reports that the ground
invasion had begun, and that 13 soldiers had already been killed. I had been
looking forward to seeing people, but I was inconsolable. I am sure many here
cried many times over the summer. Not just over the loss of Israel’s sons,
brothers and fathers, but over how Israel was demonized in the media.
And the Arab
anti-Semitism that has emerged in Europe, as well as the noted hate-incidents
recorded in this country and in Canada, also served our collective memory that
Naziism is alive in Europe and around the world. But instead of being Aryan,
the modern Nazis are primarily Arab, or just plain bigoted anti-Semites.
And, of course,
through it all, the memory of what seemed to be the catalyst for it all, the
kidnapping and brutal murder of three innocent teenagers who got into the wrong
car.
בראש השנה יכתבון וביום צום כיפור יחתמון.
It’s a message that
cuts deeply into our thoughts and emotions. Was this all decreed on Rosh
Hashana and Yom Kippur last year? Our liturgy, which reflects the Talmud, says
so. Why couldn’t it be car accidents? A young man from Lakewood, Aaron Sofer, went
missing in Yerushalayim during the conflict, feared kidnapped. Turns out he tragically died in a hiking accident. Is this kind of death any less a tragedy?
No.
But in our minds,
while we always have questions, we have an easier time with the things we can
relate to: accidents, illnesses, and of course old-age.
And so it comes as
such an incredibly shocking and surprising message when the mother of NaftaliFrankel appeared in an Aish.com video that many of us saw, declaring the
lessons she takes from her son’s murder – of the incredible spirit of Am
Yisrael, the unity, the Achdus, the power of Tefillah that rallied behind her
son, Gilad and Eyal as a world-wide movement. About how this is the true Am
Yisrael – a people who care about one another, who look out for one another,
who are there for one another. And most importantly, of having אמונה, faith in God.
How does this woman
have faith in God? She lost her son in one of the most senseless crimes of the
century! Isn’t God to blame for not protecting her son, and the boys that were
with him?
You see, Rachel
Frankel understands very well that that is not how אמונה works. אמונה, real faith in God doesn’t get thrown out
with the bath water the minute something goes wrong. Or in her case, tragically
wrong.
One thing you should
know about Real Emunah. I found a great quote in ספר מבחר הפנינים א - שער החכמה– by
Rabbi Shlomo Ibn Gabirol. He said, “Know the removal of שכל (intelligence, but sometimes translated as
common sense) from Emunah is like removing a head from a body. When the head is
removed, the body is lost or useless. And when Sechel is lost, Emunah is lost.”
In other words,
people who have real Emunah are not simpletons who have what the public calls
Blind Faith. These are really really really really really really SMART people.
They know Emunah – faith – by nature contains an element of doubt. But they
also make a very intelligent choice to say, Who cares if there is a possibility
that I am wrong? There is a much stronger possibility that I am so so right. This
is what the Rambam at the beginning of Hilkhos Yesodei HaTorah calls ידיעה – knowing that God is there.
Secondly, people who
have Emunah don’t see things in black and white. There is a world of gray,
sometimes unintelligible gray, but gray nonetheless. And that hazy gray
suggests a metaphor of a world which is like a very large wheel with millions
and billions of cogs – some that play a larger role, some whose role is far
less significant, some whose roles are not apparent until many millions of cogs
have made their revolutions. And that each of us is a cog, and we can’t always see
the big picture of that wheel. Some cogs just loosen up and fall out. And the
wheel keeps right on spinning.
There are many great
works of Jewish philosophy that define what Emunah is. But in the same book,
Ibn Gabirol has a “Shaar Haemunah,” in which he articulates some of the
fundamental tenets of what it means to be a Maamin. Humility, Reverence, and
the Patience to explain to someone who has questions – who may even be
antagonistic – but to be able to explain because the Maamin has clarity and confidence
in how the world works and in Who is running the show.
There are some
people who endure the knocks of life better than others. The poor, the ill, and
the diminished. These, says Ibn Gabirol, are the Maaminim.
You want to know who
went through the school of hard knocks? Chana did! We read it a few moments
ago! She had a co-wife who made her life miserable! Her husband treated her
royally, and yet she couldn’t eat – because he didn’t understand her, thinking
his love for her was more meaningful than the child she yearned for. Peninah
made her ANGRY that her womb was closed. Not sad. ANGRY! Can you imagine a
woman who is made to feel like nothing by a seemingly heartless, mean and
insensitive show-off? Chana could have walked away with her tail between her
legs. But she was ANGRY!
We all know Ka’as is
a bad middah. But Ka’as, the Rambam says, has its place. While Rambam warns
against anger, in Hilkhot Deot 1:4, he says that a person shouldn’t get angry,
except over a big deal, so the issue won’t ever happen again.
Chana got angry at
Peninah. This WAS a big deal. But it STILL happened, year after year. So one
year she decided to do something about it.
We can analyze
Chana’s story for hours. But today I think we need to focus on Chana the
Maamina, and her relationship with God.
First she prays to
God, crying, bitter, and we are toldוַתִּתְפַּלֵּל עַל־יְקֹוָק . She lays it all out. She says God, “I
need you to see my suffering. And remember me! Don’t forget me! You ARE IN MY
LIFE! YOU ARE PART OF MY EXISTENCE! If I have a child, I will dedicate his life
to serving you.”
וַתִּתְפַּלֵּל עַל־יְקֹוָק . She
is in control. She is letting Hashem, כביכול, have it.
But Eili gives her
the business. She is praying in a way that is beyond his comprehension. And she
lets him know he has misunderstood her. She tells him she is suffering. וָאֶשְׁפֹּךְ אֶת־נַפְשִׁי לִפְנֵי יְקֹוָק:. Lifnei hashem. As she hashes it out, her
relationship with God seems to change.
And then she
explains herself to Eili. כִּי־מֵרֹב
שִׂיחִי וְכַעְסִי דִּבַּרְתִּי עַד־הֵנָּה: I’ve spoken this way and in this manner
because of my ANGER. Rabbi David Fohrman pointed out that ANGER, at least in
Chana’s case, is a demonstration of being real (we know this from the תלמוד בבלי מסכת עירובין דף סה עמוד ב - אמר רבי
אילעאי: בשלשה דברים אדם ניכר: בכוסו, ובכיסו, ובכעסו.. ) She’s not putting on a show for God,
she’s letting HIM see what she is really feeling. Because Peninah has abandoned
her, her husband doesn’t seem to understand her, and Eili has just accused her
of being a drunk – of being someone who pours in alcohol to escape a reality.
But in fact, she was pouring OUT her soul, perhaps in anger somewhat, to
REFLECT her Reality, to the only being who can hear her and understand her, and
Who could connect with her in the deepest way.
And now that it has
come out, she is finally able to eat – a feat which has been inaccessible to
her in all of her recent Temple-trips.
Hashem remembers her
וַיִּזְכְּרֶהָ יְקֹוָק. She remembers Hashem when she names the
child. Becauseמֵיְקֹוָק
שְׁאִלְתִּיו:. She won’t go to visit the Mishkan until
the child is readyוַהֲבִאֹתִיו
וְנִרְאָה אֶת־פְּנֵי יְקֹוָק. And when she does come, she explains to
Eili that I was the woman who stood here
לְהִתְפַּלֵּל אֶל־יְקֹוָק:. EL HASHEM. Not al (על), not Lifnei (לפני). El (אל). To. Close.
Intimate. Face to face. (כז) אֶל־הַנַּעַר הַזֶּה הִתְפַּלָּלְתִּי
וַיִּתֵּן יְקֹוָק לִי אֶת־שְׁאֵלָתִי אֲשֶׁר שָׁאַלְתִּי מֵעִמּוֹ:
I prayed for this
child, and Hashem gave me the request I had asked of Him.
DID YOU HEAR THAT?
Chana prayed for the child. But she made a request of Hashem. The child was the
afterthought – the REQUEST WAS – GOD I NEED YOU TO SEE MY SUFFERING! I NEED YOU
TO SEE HOW ANGRY I AM ! I NEED YOU TO NOT FORGET ME!
And then my על ה' becomes לפני ה', and then it turns, in retrospect to אל ה'. Intimate. Close. I davened אל ה. I davened אל הנער הזה. אל – to Hashem, אל – for this child. Maybe FOR
HASHEM to be in my life. FOR this
child to grace my arms.
Her thanksgiving
Tefillah – even more profound. (ב) אֵין־קָדוֹשׁ
כַּיקֹוָק כִּי אֵין בִּלְתֶּךָ וְאֵין צוּר כֵּאלֹהֵינוּ:
Chana came to the
realization – though perhaps she knew this before – that she couldn’t rely on
her husband, and even Eili, who should not have judged her but did, was at
first unhelpful. The only ONE she could rely on was her own Emunah, her own
knowledge, that HKBH is out there, and that He listens.
And this is why
Rachel Frankel’s message is not just special in its own right. It is amazing
because here is a woman who went to a similar school of hard knocks as Chana.
Not comparing childlessness to losing a child in a horrific terrorist act. But
here is a woman who has every right to be angry. Every right to question God.
To question His motivation. To reject Him.
And yet, she seems
ever closer. She is able to smile. She is able to share her message of
inspiration. I have no doubt in my mind that - if I can borrow a line from tomorrow's Haftorah - רחל מבכה על בניה. But what she has demonstrated is that
through all the tears and all the difficult moments, she sees a much bigger
wheel. A much bigger picture. She understands the concept of being a cog, and
that each cog has a role. And that the bigger picture of Achdut of Am Yisrael
says so much more about who we are as a people than anything.
She lost a son. And
because of it, a woman with no previous platform has chosen to remind her
people that HKBH reigns, and that our People, united, can always turn to Him.
May we be blessed to
pray the way Chana did. To express our anger, our frustrations, and to be real.
To come על ה, but
transition to praying לפני ה, and
to finish speaking אל ה. We
want to be as close to God as we can. And, hopefully we’ll be blessed to come to
the same conclusion these amazing women have come to.
