Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Choosing Words - and Labels - Carefully

Parshat Shmini

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Shortly after the deaths of Nadav and Avihu, the Torah tells us that Moshe “announced to Aaron and ‘his surviving sons,’ telling them to take the remainder of the meal offering and to eat it as matzah…” (10:12)

Aharon has just suffered the most devastating loss that no parent should ever experience: the loss of his two oldest sons in an instant.

In the Torah’s depiction of their deaths, it seems clear that Nadav and Avihu engaged in an act – bringing a strange fire – that somehow warranted their deaths. The rabbis discuss many other possibilities of negative behavior on their end (see a list here - 8 paragraphs after the embedded video) that may have caused their demise. At no time are their younger brothers, Elazar and Itamar, included in the discussion as if to suggest that "they too should have died for what Nadav and Avihu did, yet they were somehow spared."

So why are they called the “surviving sons” – the Targum Yonatan even calls them “his sons who were saved from the ‘sreifah,’” that last word referencing the fire that consumed the souls of their older brothers? They didn’t survive the fire! They weren’t there! And they didn’t do anything to get such a possible punishment anyway!

My grandfather left Germany in 1937 with his parents. It would be an insult to those who went through the Holocaust to call him a survivor. Escaped – yes. Survivor? No.

Now, it could be that the translation, which I took from Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan's Living Torah, is inaccurate. After all, the Torah’s language refers to them as “notarim” – which translates to “remaining sons” (Artscroll uses this one).  And yet, the appellation given to them from the Targum Yonatan remains a question.

Rashi posits that they were supposed to die, as punishment to their father (in that all his sons would die) on account of his role in the Golden Calf, but were spared because Moshe’s prayer saved half of Aharon’s sons. Of course, if this were true, then pinning the deaths of Nadav and Avihu on “the strange fire” seems to be a cover for the real reason for their demise.

In explaining the reason for Moshe’s death at its time, Abravanel notes that the information we have in our parsha is so sketchy – what might even seem a minor violation – it is hard to see how the punishment fit the crime. It must mean their “crime” was hidden from us, to avoid embarrassing them.

So the question becomes, were Elazar and Itamar involved in something that should have caused their deaths, yet they survived? 

It would seem from the language used that the answer is “Yes, they were.” Haktav V’Hakabbalah points out the difference between the words “Notarim” (used in this verse) and an alternative such as “Nisharim” – remaining, is that what is Notar is usually something much worse than that which is Nishar. Use of the word “notarim” indicates they were not completely innocent. R Samson Raphael Hirsch points to his commentary in Shmot 16:19 where he addressed this subtlety in language, as he goes on to mirror the teaching of HaKtav V’Hakabbalah that Notar is worse.

One view is that the deaths of Aharon's sons were delayed from what happened in Shmot 24 – when Nadav and Avihu saw God. Another, such as of Rabbi Chaim Paltiel suggests they share blame for the Golden Calf because they were big boys when their father involved himself with the infamous idol. They should have protested, they should have said, “Dad, don’t do this.”

Based on a teaching of the Taz in Yoreh Deah 43, note 7, R Pinchas HaLevi Horowitz suggests the punishment for Elazar was supposed to reach the next generation through the death of Pinchas. Clearly both of them were spared.

But perhaps there is one more possibility. That the Torah is employing a specific language to parallel what is about to happen. In the same verse in which his “notarim” sons are mentioned, they are to be told to 'Take the remainder (“noteret”) of the meal offering that is before God.'

In the end of the day, it remains unclear whether Elazar and Itamar also did something wrong. They were not at the mountain when their brothers saw God, and they were not involved in bringing the strange fire. Perhaps we can argue that they could have questioned their father’s involvement in the Golden Calf, but nonetheless – a death sentence for not standing up to their father – that they were spared from! – makes no sense at all.

Perhaps a lesson to be gleaned is that language is very important. When parents lose a child, for example, beyond showing them love, it is hard to know what are the right words. Saying “At least you have other children” is probably not helpful. They want the one who died. Bending over backwards to try to figure out whether Elazar and Itamar deserved a similar fate – either as a punishment to their father, or on account of their zero-evidenced misdeeds – is probably not the nicest way to present things to Aharon, especially if the deaths of Nadav and Avihu were on account of his role in the Golden Calf. Because we can be assured that he got the message.

The Torah uses parallel language to show that the sons who are “notarim” should be careful about the rules of “notar” (remaining Korban parts). Being labeled in such a fashion gives the younger kohanim an ever present reminder that their roles as representatives of the Jewish people are very serious, and that they must take every precaution to follow the letter of the law. We don’t want them to die on a personal level. And on a national level, their deaths would cause such chaos, and throw the nation into religious turmoil, that they need to learn every possible lesson, from every possible angle, to be sure they are on the straight path.

We model for our children, we sometimes label our children. We also label our fellow Jew. Let us be sure that whatever labels we apply to people are the kind that are not insulting or denigrating, but are embracing and educational, as they remind us all that the game of life is not about who wins or ends up on top, but about how we can all get closest to God until the moment when our souls leave, at which time we'll have clarity as to which of us achieved the closest we could to serving God in the best way.

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

ZACHOR: Carry a Grudge Against Amalek, or Remember Powerful Lessons About Jewish Peoplehood?

This was the Torah portion (minus the homiletics specific for the shul) from my sermon this past Shabbos. The third explanation is my own thought - didn't see it anywhere.

Are we meant to carry a grudge against those who are not allowed to join the Jewish people? Or are there other lessons to be gleaned from these instructions, especially after Sannacherib obliterated these nations through mixing populations?

Parshat Zachor 5776

The Torah tells us זכור את אשר עשה לך עמלק. REMEMBER WHAT AMALEK DID TO YOU!

Our question is simple: what did עמלק do to us? The Torah has a simple answer. They happened upon you on your way out of Egypt, and attacked the stragglers and the weak who were lagging behind. Despicable behavior. So what does this do for us? It seems to tell us to carry a grudge against our enemies forever. And it tells us, that even after Amalek is destroyed, that we have to hate them, even after they haven’t existed for millennia.

We often hear people say Nazis were Amalek. But from a technical vantage-point, the Nazis were not Amalek. They may have had Amalek-like qualities. But there is no direct blood-link between Amalek and Nazis. We carry a grudge against the Nazis because the wound is still fresh. But Amalek - what they did in the wilderness might not have even killed anyone!

Even if Amalek needs to be hated forever, whatever they DID is in the past and done. Especially if they no longer exist. So why do we need to remember?

The Midrash in Eichah Rabba highlights this question. In Parshas Beshalach, Hashem says to Moshe, מחה אמחה את זכר עמלק. I will wipe them out. And here we are told זכור את אשר עשה לך עמלק. Remember what עמלק did to YOU. The Midrash asks the question – didn’t עמלק make the biggest 'חילול ה? Didn’t עמלק attack YOUR people, God, right after YOU took עם ישראל out of Egypt and after YOU split the sea? Weren’t they really attacking YOU? Why is it our job to remember עמלק? The offense was against YOU!!! Humans forget things – why challenge us with remembering things that don’t relate to us, thousands of years later? The Midrash says אתה אין שכחה לפניך, You don't forget anything ever... so let this be something YOU take care of!

The Pesikta presents a challenge to this, because of a keen insight into human nature: בא וראה שלא כמדת הקדוש ברוך הוא מדת בשר ודם. מדת בשר ודם אם עשה לו חברו [רעה] אינו זזה מלבו לעולם, אבל הב"ה אינו כן. A human being never forgives. God forgives. And the example the Pesikta gives is עמלק. If God were human, He should hate עמלק forever. But “the Edomi is not to be oppressed.” [Edomi is a descendant of Eisav, just as Amalek is a descendant of Eisav] לא תתעב אדומי כי אחיך הוא. He is allowed to join the Jewish people! לא תתעב מצרי – even the Egyptian! Who was worse than the Egyptian!?! He’s allowed to join the Jewish people!

It would seem, therefore, that the way to look at what עמלק did is not to be understood in terms of carrying a grudge. True - God doesn’t forget, and yet He doesn’t carry a grudge. So we humans, who have the capacity to forget, should carry a grudge forever? Remember the chapter about the FEUD in Huckleberry Finn? Two families, Grangerford and Shepherdson. Capulet and Montague, Hatfield and McCoy. They don’t even remember what they’re fighting over anymore.

After thousands of years, you’d think we could move on.

But there are other lessons to remember from the tale of עמלק. In the Pesikta of Rav Kahana, we find עמלק serving as a symbol of what ISRAEL did wrong. The immediate tale before עמלק came is when the people complain for water saying היש י"י בקרבינו אם אין. "Is God still with us, or not?" The result of their lack of faith in God’s presence is what brought about עמלק.

So here is Lesson #1. When we remember עמלק and what almost destroyed our people right after having been saved from Egypt, we must remember that it all happened ONLY because the people had forsaken God. One trial, one tribulation, and you say “Has God abandoned us?” ???

That will bring עמלק. Remember what Amalek did, not to you, but because of you.

The second lesson comes from the צרור המור. Remember עמלק – what were they really trying to do? They were trying to prevent you from fulfilling your destiny to get to the land. This is why the section in the Torah that immediately follows the Parsha of עמלק talks about כי תבא אל הארץ. When you come to land, bring the first fruits… Bilaam even describes עמלק as the first to fight you, whose destiny is to be destroyed. To counter them, because ראשית גוים עמלק, you will bring ראשית פרי האדמה – the first fruits of the Land.

Lesson #2. Remember עמלק – there will always be people who will try to prevent you from settling the land. When they are unsuccessful.ראוי לך להודות לשם. – You must thank God for the good you have. Did עמלק defeat you? NO. ויחלש יהושע את עמלק ואת עמו Yehoshua weakened THEM. That should always be the case when people try to prevent you from owning YOUR LAND. They should fail. And you should Praise God.

As for Lesson #3: Let us take a slightly different look at the words of the Pasuk: זכור את אשר עשה לך עמלק. Rashi tells us in Parshas Yisro, when the Torah says the people camped ויחן שם ישראל נגד ההר that the Torah describes Israel in the singular because everywhere else their unity was tainted by מחלוקת ותרעומות. Complaints and arguments.

עמלק came and fought with ישראל. They didn’t look at Israel as a bunch of groups of people, with internal מחלוקת and different factions. זכור את אשר עשה לך עמלק. Not לכם! לך! In the singular. And maybe עשה does not mean DID, but the other meaning of עשה, which is MADE.

AMALEK MADE YOU – AS ONE PEOPLE – INTO A TARGET. AMALEK MADE YOU INTO A NATION TO BE TRIFLED WITH. You were NOTHING. Haggard. Disheveled. A people who needed God to fight your battles for you.

But AMALEK MADE YOU. They FORCED YOU TO UNITE. They PUSHED you to the battlefield. They turned you, from a bunch of helpless slaves, from a bunch of nebichs, into an army that struck FEAR into enemies.

THIS IS THE ULTIMATE LESSON WE NEED TO TAKE FROM THAT WHICH אשר עשה לך עמלק. 

This is one of the reasons why the Holocaust is so profound, and why it resonates until today. Who were the Jewish people? What was a shtetl? A tiny fraction of a population that Hitler viewed as a threat to whatever his mind conjured up? Some will credit the Holocaust with directly bringing about the establishment of the State of Israel. With rare exception, Israel is what unites most Jews today. To bring one example, AIPAC, which is having its annual convention over the next few days, will have its largest gathering ever – over 18,000 participants. And what is Israel? A tiny country, with a tiny population that is feared by huge countries, and considered to be THE obstacle to world peace. Ha!

Remembering עמלק should teach us about the strength we, the Jewish people, could have, were we only to be united. Because no matter how weak we seem to be, when we are united, we could even defeat עמלק who is hell-bent on destroying us.

To review our three lessons of what it means to remember עמלק:

1. Don’t let one setback, no matter how major it is, get you to lose your faith in God. He is always there.
2. Enemies will always want to prevent our people from settling and living in our Land. Think "Fogel" (their yarzeit is around now), and think of all the korbanos, HYD of just these last few months. And of all of Israel’s existence. The pain will not go away. But there is still what to be grateful to God for. The enemy will not prevail.
3. Amalek had the special ability to unite the Jewish people, turning them into a force to be reckoned with, a nation whose strongest enemy was only themselves, when their unity would fall apart.

May we be blessed to take the lessons of remembering עמלק so we can understand how important having this memory is for the continuity of our people.

Monday, March 21, 2016

God's Unlimited Abilities

Parshat Tzav 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 Having given all the instructions for the Kohanim, in Chapter 8 we see Moshe being given precise instructions to set the stage for Inauguration Day.

 In one of the most immediate cause and effect episodes in the Torah, Moshe is told to gather the people at the Ohel Moed (Gathering Tent, the Mishkan) in 8:3, and in 8:4, “the community was assembled at the entrance of the Ohel Moed.”

Was the entire community really there to watch Moshe vest his brother and nephews in their priestly vestments (8:6-13)?

Ibn Ezra says the “entire community” refers to the “leaders of the tribes and the elders.” That would be a little over 80 people. The Rosh is of the view that 600,000 people were able to gather in a relatively small space to witness this momentous occasion. And the point, explains Chizkuni (based on the Midrash), is that everyone should learn to conduct themselves in a holy manner with respect to and when relating to the priests.

In support of Ibn Ezra, the Torah Temimah reminds us of the passage in Sanhedrin 2a that a High Priest can only be appointed by the Sanhedrin of 71. And that the term used to describe the community, “Eidah” certainly refers to a Sanhedrin which passes judgments. Thus while leadership must be present, the entire nation need not bother with coming to watch the dressing ceremonies.

Rabbenu Bachaye describes the gathering  in 8:4 as a “miraculous occurrence” and he gives a number of examples where the population that gathered defied all logical explanations, because their reality entered the realm of the supernatural. One example is the 22,000 chariots of angels that were present at Revelation at the bottom of Sinai. Where did they all fit? Other examples include: that when all of Israel crossed the Jordan to enter the land, they walked between the poles of the Ark; during the time of Resurrection when all the good people through the history of the world will return the living, there will be enough room for everyone.

On a purely rational basis, it is hard to understand some of these passages, and even more difficult to explain the physics. Surely, as a believer, I can accept that something did happen or can happen in the future, but it is hard to visualize, even if I believe its possibility is real.

I think looking at this passage from the vantage point of Purim, which was celebrated on Thursday, we can appreciate how truly miraculous events just defy explanation.

We are all familiar with the efficiency of the Nazi killing machine. Yet despite its organization, and the sheer numbers of how at their height, they could be murdering over 10,000 people a day, it still took them over 5 years to kill 6 millions Jews, and they were, thank God, unable to complete their diabolical plans of the destruction of world Jewry.

And Haman, their spiritual ancestor, was hoping to achieve the same goal in one day? How could he even think such a task was possible.

It would seem that owing to his beliefs in his powers, honor, and supernatural abilities, he felt that his lottery showed that his goal was divinely ordained. And he believed that his charm and his charisma would gather enough volunteers and haters to get to every Jew in Achashveirosh’s kingdom in one day.

But the real world doesn’t work like that. In Shushan alone, Esther needed to ask for another day for the Jews to confront their enemies. On the 13th of Adar, 500 Shushanites died, and on the 14th of Adar 300 more Shushanites died in the skirmishes. Relatively small numbers, it would seem.

And therein lies the difference between the plans of the man and the works of God. Man can only achieve what is humanly possible. God – using man, when He wants it to be such – can achieve things that go beyond reason and viable explanation.

Will there be peace in the Land of Israel? Will the Arabs stop hating the Jewish people? Will anti-Semitism ever end? Will the Messiah come – when so many Jews in the world do not live a life of Torah, do not observe the Sabbath, and in some cases, don’t even know what it means to be a Jew, or that they are even Jewish? In the realm of human achievement and possibility, all of these are far-fetched possibilities. But in the realm of God, they are attainable.

Of course from Ibn Ezra’s and the Torah Temimah’s perspective, there was a respectable but manageable-size crowd at the dressing-ceremony. But the other view is not to be discounted. And it is the person of faith who learns from what happened at the inauguration of the Mishkan, when 600,000 people fit in to a small space, that when God wills it, the seemingly impossible becomes as simple as filling the universe with billions of billions of stars and having none of them touch each other.

Monday, March 14, 2016

The Only Peace Offerings We Should See are "Sacrifices of Righteousness"

Parshat VAYIKRa 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

When we think about how the beginning of the book of Vayikra relates to us today, we are challenged to find an answer. Our service is not the Service of the Temple, ours is not sacrificial lambs and goats and bulls.

The portions that speak of the animal sacrifices have much to teach in the homiletic sense, and in some of the passages drummed up in various Midrashim. But as far as practical use – if we don’t have the Temple Service, the Mishkan rules are not practical to our lives.

And yet, when one sees what is happening in the world with respect to how Jews are treated, one can’t help being drawn to the first verse in Vayikra Chapter 3. “If one's sacrifice is a peace offering and it is from the cattle, he may offer either an unblemished male or an unblemished female before God.”

A little over a month ago, President Obama spoke at the Islamic Society of Baltimore and said the following: “We have to be consistent in condemning hateful rhetoric and violence against everyone. And that includes against Muslims here in the United States of America.”

In an article responding to the president’s speech there, Dennis Prager addressed that quote saying, “Two facts are relevant here. One is that religious hate crimes are exceedingly rare in America. The other is that in 2014, the last year for which we have data, Jews were targets of hate crimes four times more frequently than Muslims.”

President Obama also said, “There are Christians [not Jews?] who are targeted now in the Middle East, despite having been there for centuries, and there are Jews who’ve lived in places like France for centuries who now feel obliged to leave because they feel themselves under assault — sometimes by Muslims.”

Beyond noting that "Jews in the Middle East” were ignored, perhaps because it is politically insensitive to note how Jews are the victims of terror in Israel on a regular basis, Prager noted that the president mentioned the many Jews in France who are attacked “sometimes by Muslims.” “Sometimes?” Prager queries. “French Jews have recently been murdered, tortured, and harassed more than at any time since the Holocaust. And virtually every one of those attacks has been perpetrated by Muslims.”

I have no qualms about noting who the terrorists are, especially in Israel – the Middle East – where Jews are always the targets, even though the terrorists sometimes get Americans (Taylor Force, RIP) and Arabs (Mohammed Wari, in Jaffa, who survived), having mistakenly (or not, since they don’t care) identified their victims.

David Fremd HY"D was murdered by a terrorist in Uruguay last week. The list can go on and on, from last week alone.

What are these sacrifices for? For peace? For a world order that will be Judenrein? Do these sacrifices need to continue because a peace-loving faction of Jews (in Israel!) believe that if you’re only nice to the people who hate you, they’ll stop hating you? Anti-Semitism is the world’s oldest hatred. It even pre-dates Islam, and might never be overcome, neither in America, in Israel, or elsewhere in the world.

After the terror attacks in Paris a little over a year ago, French Prime Minister Manuel Valls delivered a powerful speech against anti-Semitism. Let us note it is a stain on all of Europe, if not most of the civilized world. [Though terrorists are hardly what we might call “civilized.”] Whether his words had their desired impact is questionable, but it is hopefully a start in the right direction.

Rashi says “Shlamim – peace offerings” are called that because they bring peace to the world. Rashbam and Chizkuni says “Shlamim” comes from the word “Tashlumim” – a price that must be paid, or a promise that must be fulfilled. Ramban seems to say the same thing as he explains the term to have the same meaning as the phrase in Yeshayahu (44:28) which means “My desire he shall fulfill.” While he also notes the similarity to the phrase “complete stones.” Haktav V’ha’Kaballah explains this second view of Ramban to mean “there is no flaw in the offering, because it comes only from a pure devotion of the heart.” As Rav Hirsch puts it, the word “Shalem” means complete, and more accurately, “flawless” in the sense of the motivation of the person bringing the offering. Menachem Recanati opens his words saying “The Shlamim comes to bring peace in the world and to complete towards [the one bringing the offering] the trait of judgment. This is why it can be brought using a male or female [animal].”

R Pinchas Halevi Horowitz associates the Shlamim with the thought articulated by King David in Psalm 51:16-21, when he refers to what God truly wants, namely the sacrifices of righteousness.
“Save me from blood, O God, the God of my salvation; let my tongue sing praises of Your charity. O Lord, You shall open my lips, and my mouth will recite Your praise. For You do not wish a sacrifice, or I should give it; You do not desire a burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; O God, You will not despise a broken and crushed heart. With Your will, do good to Zion; build the walls of Jerusalem. Then You will desire sacrifices of righteousness, a burnt offering and a whole offering; then they will offer up bulls on Your altar.” 
While the resolve of the Jewish people will remain steadfast and strong, we are facing exactly this – a broken spirit, a broken and crushed heart – over all the sacrifices the Jewish people have had to give up, in both male and female victims, because Israel is faced with the politically incorrect battle of weeding out terrorists from its midst. Terrorists are now male, female, adults and children. While not impossible, it is a formidable task to weed out the evil people.

We hope there need be no more sacrifices until the day when Jerusalem is completely rebuilt with the Jewish Temple at its epicenter, and the only Peace sacrifices which will be brought are those that are “sacrifices of righteousness” brought by those who are giving whole and complete devotions to God that don’t come at the price of an innocent person’s life.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

First Day of First Month - a Day of Creation and Redemption



Parshat Fekudei

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The Torah tells us that Moshe was given an instruction that “On the day of the first month, on the first day, you shall erect the Communion Tent Tabernacle.” (40:2). Of course, this was fulfilled in 40:17, “In the first month of the second year [of the Exodus], on the first of the month, the Tabernacle was erected,” as a follow up to the verse that informs us that “Moshe proceeded to do exactly as God had commanded him.” (40:16)

The Midrash is fond of the sentiment that the Mishkan was assembled and disassembled on a daily basis over the course of its first week of operation, leading up to the anticipated “Eighth day" of Vayikra 9:1. The Midrash Tanchuma goes so far to say, based on the three appearances of the verb “KM” (erect, assemble) (40:2,17,18), that this process took place 3 times a day during the 7 days of Miluim - the dedication days leading up to the final consecration of the Mishkan!

The language the Torah uses to introduce us to the day the Mishkan was to be erected is strange in two regards. The Ibn Ezra, in his Peirush Ha’Arokh, recounts a debate as to whether the 1st of Nissan (per the name we now give to the first month) was the first day when the Mishkan was erected, or whether the 1st of Nissan was in fact the 8th day of the Miluim. He notes, of course, that if indeed the 1st of Nissan was the 8th day of the Miluim – the main dedication day as noted in Vayikra 9 – then the Mishkan was actually first assembled on the 23rd of Adar! Why doesn’t the Torah mention this date? And why doesn’t the Torah mention the daily ups-and-downs of the Mishkan?

Secondly, as Meshekh Chokhmah argues, the phrase “b’yom hachodesh harishon” – on the day of the first month – seems superfluous, since the Torah then says “on the first of the month!" He learns from the extra word, therefore, that the word “b’yom” indicates that all Mishkan work was done literally during the day, and not at night.

While this simple answer seems to resolve the second issue regarding the seemingly extra word “b’yom,” we are left to understand the focus on the 1st day of Nissan, and whether it is the first day Moshe assembled the Mishkan, or, in fact, the eighth day. Ramban answers this question by saying that the day the Mishkan was erected, as well as the day of the dedication after the Miluim days, were both special. Whether the first of the month equals the first day the Mishkan was erected, or the final day, it and its partner date are special. This is called having your cake and eating it too, and is reminiscent of the famous response of Daschel Parr to the words “Everyone is special,” when he said, “Which is another way of saying no one is.” (:44 seconds mark)

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch notes that the phrase “on the day of the first month, on the first of the month” may be referring to the origins of the concept of the New Moon, which took place one year earlier, when the nation was established in the final days before the Exodus. While it is obvious that the Mishkan was not erected on a day when they were still in Egypt, the call to attention to the date could be a reminder to the people to remember where they were a year ago, and to note all their experiences and to see how far they’d come.

Perhaps most fascinating is the comment of Ibn Ezra in his Peirush HaKatzar. On “on the day of the first month, on the first of the month…” he says “This is a beginning of the world, and it is a Sod (סוד - secret).” Could he be referring to the opinion of rabbi Yehoshua that the world was created in Nissan (Rosh Hashana 11a)?

Usually when Ibn Ezra mentions a “sod,” there is an explanation for what he means, often a kabbalistic one. Yosef Ibn Caspi wrote a book, “Peirush HaSodot” to analyze and explain each time Ibn Ezra notes a “sod.” Unfortunately, Ibn Caspi missed this one.

Perhaps, in his attempts to equate the Mishkan’s ascent with a beginning of a world, Ibn Ezra is hinting to what Kli Yakar says outright.

Quoting a midrash that indicates the world was created in Moshe’s merit, the thought extends to indicate that the Mishkan, also put together by Moshe, is modeled on the structure of world. The three verbs describing the erecting of the mishkan (as noted above) can be applied and compared to the manner in which the 3 temples were or are to be built. The first two points of putting together the Mishkan require input from people. The last one, “that the Mishkan stood” indicates that somehow it put itself up on its own the final time, after all the efforts Moshe made of assembling and disassembling the Mishkan. This, explains Kli Yakar, reflects how the third and final Beit haMikdash will be brought to the people, regardless of their worthiness.

While the final message is certainly one that can give us hope, we must continue to look to the first day of the first month as a source of inspiration. Whether it might be the day of the birth of the world, it certainly is the day when the mitzvah of Rosh Chodesh was given to us, and when a slave people received a calendar which helped define them as a free people. It is the day the Rabbis have declared when the final redemption will come, in the month of Nissan, and in it being the day the Mishkan was consecrated, it changed the world, for it finally gave God a resting place on earth.

Thursday, March 3, 2016

Donating In Many Ways Other Than Financially

Parshat Vayakhel

by Rabbi Avi Billet

As the Torah progresses with the building of the Mishkan (Tabernacle), we find the instructions of chapters 25-31 coming to life with the actions of the people at the beginning of our Parsha, culminating with Moshe turning to Bezalel to essentially tell him, “Do your magic.” (end of chapter 35 –beginning of chapter 36)

“Every man and woman who felt an urge in their heart to give something for all the work that God had ordered through Moses, they – the Israelites – brought a donation for God.” (35:29)

Does “Every man” and “Every woman” refer just to those who had an urge to donate, or to every single person?

The Malbim shares a very powerful interpretation that should remind us of how each and every person can make a contribution.

“What it means to say is that all these donations [of money] are not what God seeks. He wants the hearts. If there was a man or woman amongst the Israelites who did not donate, because the poor people have nothing to donate, they at least dedicated their hearts. They donated their hearts and their thoughts (and skills?). They determined in their hearts that if they only had the means they’d donate all the money for the Mishkan and its vessels.

 “This is what it means when it says they felt the urge to donate a donation of the heart – they wanted to build the entire Mishkan! The Israelites brought this man and this woman as a gift/donation to God. This man and this woman who desired with all their hearts to be involved – this is the ultimate donation that God wanted, and was receptive to accepting. It is as if Israel is bringing this kind of donation in that they merited to find among them straight, righteous people such as these.”

It seems profound, but in truth it’s not such a novel idea.

The way life looks these days, some people manage to ride around the financial struggle that others live day in and day out. And many live check to check, are in debt, and truly cannot afford to participate in certain aspects of Jewish life, and certainly not in philanthropy, in the manner that others seem so able to do.

How can everyone none the less feel “This is my mishkan?” By giving time instead of money. By showing up. By volunteering. By working the phones, working behind the desk. And through being one of the people that brings life to an institution.

Maybe some parents provide free handiwork to their childrens' school in lieu of tuition. Maybe some members teach classes, or attend every class possible, to support shul programming. Other “shul-people” seem to always be involved in constructive and active ways in the goings-on of the synagogue, they become staples at every event, every program, and almost seem to define the shul itself.

“Owning” a shul or a school doesn’t mean that every person who wants to needs to become a great writer (punch line “who wrote a check.” (2nd to last joke there))

Sometimes the make-up of these institutions is largely defined by those who roll up their sleeves, on the ground, who become the movers and shakers who determine the trajectory of where the community is headed, simply because they are the ones with the most experience, and the most inside knowledge of what the people want, and what is best for the growth of the community.

Raise your hand if you know someone like this. Be even prouder, if this has been describing you.