More than Don't Desecrate: CONSECRATE!

Parshat Emor

by Rabbi Avi Billet

While much of the first part of Parshat Emor speaks of rules of the Kohanim, there is a greater theme in the Torah portion on the periphery to being a Kohen, and it has to do with desecration. Sometimes it is to not desecrate God’s name. Sometimes it is to avoid desecrating something which is holy. 

The Kohanim need to be separate for holiness “V’lo y’challu shem elohayhem” – they shall not desecrate the name of their God. 

Aharon and sons were to be careful when it came to the offerings, “V’lo y’challu et shem kodshi.” 

Any non Kohen who ate the holy foods had to pay the Kohanim back, because they had taken from that which was designated for the Kohanim. “V’lo y’challu et Kodshei bnei Yisrael.” 

The daughter of a Kohen had to conduct herself on an even higher level of purity and discretion – lest she be guilty of defiling her family position. “Et avihah hi m’chalellet.” 

There are times when the Kohen Gadol may not leave the Mikdash lest “yechallel at mikdash elohav.” 

Were a Kohen who is not allowed to serve on account of some kind of blemish to nonetheless come close, he is warned not to desecrate the space - “v’lo yehcallel et mikdashai.”

Even eating forbidden meat from animals improperly slaughtered or which died naturally – which is a prohibition for all Jews – is an extra desecration for the Kohanim. 

And if I can take a slight leap off the page, I think there’s one more example in the Parsha. And that is the example of the blasphemer – the young man who is the son of Shlomit Bat Divri and an Egyptian man who curses God. In the aftermath of the story, we are told that they were to take out the mekallel – the blasphemer. The Israelites were further told when a man, “ki y’kallel Elohav v’nasa chet’o” – if he curses God he must bear the burden of his sin. 

The word Mekallel and the word Yekallel sound very much like Mechallel and Yechallel. The linguistic rules which allows for the interchanging of letters indicates deeper teachings and understandings from the text. 

When we read these verses we are certainly meant to remind ourselves of how to not desecrate. 

But even moreso, we ought to remind ourselves how to consecrate. 

This is a particular challenge for those of us who do what we do by rote, without injecting “kedusha” into our prayers, Torah study, and day-in-and-day-out behavior. When we neglect, for example, basic concerns for our fellow man, or if our middot indicate a lackadaisical attitude toward others’ well-being, including not caring about the response to our question of “How are you?” or being mindless to the mess we and/or our children leave behind in a restaurant, store, or public bathroom, we are certainly not consecrating. 

The correct attitude should never be “I only do what I like.” It should be, “I do what is right!” Always. Sometimes, even, when I don’t know or understand everything. 

While certain aspects of Jewish life require precision and exactness and don’t have much flexibility, many aspects of Jewish life are fluid, flexible, and subject to one’s own personality and personal input. How each of us prays – up to each person to decide. How we study – up to each person to decide. Even what we study – up to each person to decide. Our degree of involvement in Jewish life – up to each person to decide. How important and how much we want to emphasize the Jewish side of our individual experience – up to each person to decide. 

Every Jew is a Jew 365 days a year. We don’t turn it on and off, emphasize sometimes more or sometimes less. We live a Jewish life all the time. That is who we are. 

We must do the opposite of challel (desecrate) and kallel (curse), because these are very negative character traits! 

Our job is to be m’kadesh – to sanctify, to bring holiness in, to bring God in. That is why we observe the mitzvoth between Man and God, and that is surely why we must keep the mitzvoth between Man-and-Man as a top priority. God is easy! He forgives quickly. But man is left with a very bad impression which is hard to shake. So the impression we leave must always be a good one, especially when we are relating to people who will judge us and our faith based on how we conduct ourselves. 

May we be blessed to be models of sanctifying God’s name in the eyes of God and Man.

Making EVERY Mitzvah Important - Including Standing for the Elderly

Acharei-Mot and KEDOSHIM 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Did you count sefirah last night? Did you make it up this morning? Are you still counting with a brache (blessing)? Do you have an app reminding you to count? Do you have a whatsapp group that helps you count the Omer? 

In the absence of the Temple in Jerusalem, most view the mitzvah to count as a rabbinic commandment, a nod to a different time. And yet people are so very careful to fulfill it.

Many mitzvot of the Torah are applicable in our time, no Temple required, which don’t even have a blessing attached as they can be performed all the time. Why do we not get the same kinds of reminders to fulfill them? 

We are good at ritual and at fulfilling the “between Man and God” commandments. But what about the “between man and man” Torah-obligations? More than the mistranslation “good deed” a Mitzvah is a commandment, given by a Commander Who is telling us what we must do. Very often the mitzvah might be considered “For your benefit” (see Devarim 10:13). 

In what way is it good for us? Some of the goodness comes in refining our character. Some of the goodness comes in enhancing our relationships with others. Some of the goodness comes in our relationship with the Almighty. 

Ramban explains in Devarim that mitzvot are not for God. The heavens and all the earth bring honor to God. He doesn’t need us. He loved the forefathers and chose their descendants to have a mission on earth. The purpose of mitzvot is to help us yearn for God more. This is something we ought to think about – how often do we see mitzvot as a means for us to get closer to God? 

In this week’s double portion we have mitzvot to love our fellow Jews, not to hate another Jew, not to embarrass another Jew, not to wrong one another through speech, not to curse any Jew, not to give misleading advice, to judge our fellow Jews favorably, to rebuke a sinner (with kindness and in a manner which will be listened to or accepted), not to take revenge, not to bear a grudge, not to gossip or make up stories about others. 

How many of us bear a grudge against someone else? How often does a grudge develop, very often on account of a misunderstanding? How many people carry a grudge and know that the other person is unaware of the grudge? How many people are victims of a grudge, and don’t know because they were never told, nor given the opportunity to explain and put things right? 

While there are certainly some commentaries who focus on the appearance of the phrase “I am Hashem” or “I am Hashem your God,” sometimes it seems randomly assigned. But sometimes it seems that added phrase is God’s way of saying “this one is REALLY important.” 

I’d like to zone in a mitzvah we would all benefit from being more careful about. 

Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan’s translation of 19:32 is “Stand up before a white head (meaning a person with white hair), and give respect to the old. You shall thus fear your God. I am God.”

The Hebrew word Rabbi Kaplan translated as “whitehead” is “Sayvah.” Ibn Ezra translates the word as “zaken” – an elderly person who is close to death. Were we to accept this definition, no person who might otherwise qualify to be stood for would ever want anyone to stand for them. 

Rashi defines “sayvah” as one who has acquired wisdom. He does not define the wisdom, whether from study, or life experience. 

Onkelos says it refers to a Torah scholar. Avot 5:21 defines “Ziknah” as age 60, and “Sayvah” as age 70. It’s not a definition based on how one feels, whether a person feels old or 70 years young. It’s just a mark of chronological years passed. 

The Talmud Kiddushin seems to follow the view of Isi ben Yehuda that a “zaken” equals any one who is classified as “older” – however that is defined by society – but it is not determined by scholarship. 

Two friends who are both classified as “sayvah” or “zaken” should even respect one another in this way! Don’t avoid because it’s hard. DO IT because it’s a mitzvah! 

Beyond illness and injury, death and taxes there are few things more painful than the feeling of being ignored, unimportant, or irrelevant. This mitzvah is meant to preserve that in people who, as time passes more and more, might feel ignored, unimportant, or irrelevant. 

As seventy becomes the new fifty, and as older people don’t like to be called “old,” the definition is sometimes harder to pinpoint today. But let us take note: 

There are people who deserve the dignity of being noticed. And being given at the very least human courtesy and respect. Respect doesn’t mean I don’t hurt your feelings. It means I actively stand, I actively acknowledge the person’s humanity through a kind word, through even a simple conversation – if not more, through tapping into that person’s wisdom. 

A mitzvah is a commandment which makes us better people. Sometimes it’s between us and God. But He doesn’t need the mitzvah! When it becomes something that enhances others’ lives it is a good deed. We should be as careful if not more about reminding ourselves to do these Torah mandated mitzvot, as we are about Sefiras HaOmer. And we should become experts in promoting and performing mitzvoth between Man and Man, that put other people up. Through this as well, we should merit to bring God into our lives.

Israel's 70th and Renewal Wishes for Beyond 70

This week we read Tazria-Metzora. I wrote about the wonderful celebration of Israel's 70th anniversary. If you'd like divrei Torah on the double parsha, please check the Vayikra archives.

Yom Ha'Atzma'ut

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The calendar this year aligned to have Rosh Chodesh at the beginning of the week, and the celebration of Israel’s 70th birthday – Yom Ha’Atzma’ut – in the same week. (When Yom Ha’atzmaut is observed Tuesday or Wednesday, Rosh Chodesh is in the previous week). What a momentous time for the Jewish people!

In truth, every birthday of the Jewish State is something to marvel over. One of my friends who lives in Israel once told me why he chose to make Aliyah. “We are living in a time of what is perhaps the greatest experiment of Jewish history. Israel should be around forever! But if something should happen and we were to lose it, I’d like to be able to say that I was there.”

So in this week of Rosh Chodesh, here is a thought that relates to both renewal and the number 70.

The word Chodesh is reminiscent of Chiddush – which either means renewal or a new idea altogether. The commentaries say “Chodesh,” meaning “month,” comes from the word Chiddush because the New Moon always coincides with Rosh Chodesh, when it achieves its monthly renewal.

Two points recounted by the Midrash Aggadah surrounding the first Rosh Chodesh are a. that of all nations since the dawn of time, God chose to love the Israelites, evidenced by giving them Rosh Chodesh as a monthly celebration, and b. “The new moon is for you" – God emphasized that he could have given it to Adam, or any human beings in history, but “I gave it to the humans that comprise My people – The Children of Israel at the time of the Exodus... and beyond.”

Rabbenu Bechaye says about Kiddush HaCHodesh, and about blessing over the New Moon: “One who stands and blesses the moon is giving testimony about the Chiddush of the world, which is a fundamental concept of faith. He recognizes God’s existence, He who renews the moon each month.”

But perhaps the most profound idea of Chiddush can come from the Mechilta, who notes how there are similarities between months and years in how the moon determines the length of each. In the lunar calendar, a month is a little over 29 and a ½ days, which makes each month in the Jewish calendar 29 or 30 days. The year is usually 12 months, but owing to the need to always have Pesach in the spring, we sometimes need to add a month, making a leap year, and we do that at the end of the year, as we do when there is a Jewish leap year and a second Adar.

And so the Mechilta says, “Just as a month gets the added day at the end of the month, so does a year have its addition at the end.” And I think that in light of a number of views of the number 70, we can take the message of the Mechilta to its next logical step.

Tehillim 90, one of the paragraphs we read as part of the morning service on Shabbat and holidays, says this: The days of our lives are 70, and with increase, 80… It passes quickly and we fly away.” We ask of God two verses later “Teach the number of our days so that we shall acquire a heart of wisdom.”

May I suggest that the next logical step of “the extra of the month is at the end of the month, and the extra added to a year is at the end of the year,” that the extra added to a life is at the so-called end – meaning the latter part - of the average life?

President Lincoln hoped in his Gettysburg Address that the nation would have a “rebirth of freedom.”

According to the verse from Tehillim 90 – it can be argued that anything after 70 is a gift. This can be applied to both the State of Israel and to every person’s life. We can look to the post 70 time as a renewal, something which can be looked at a with a new set of eyes.

R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, in his inimitable style, actually makes this point. “Your perception of the renewal of the moon should inspire you to undertake a similar renewal,” he writes. “The sanctification of the new moon is an institution for the moral and spiritual rejuvenation of Israel, to which Israel must always strive anew at regular periods, and which it will achieve through its re-encounter with God.” As the sages put it, “The renewal of the month is a model for you” to have a constant renewal. Reenergizing when the excitement of any activity or recommitment ends, we find something new. We begin again.

The Daf Yomi finishes a tractate. They make a siyum and they go onto the next one.

We finish reading a parsha. By mincha, we’re reading the next one.

We finish reading a Book of the Torah, we begin the next one right away.

On Simchas Torah, when we finish the Torah, we have another Torah in the wings, ready to begin with Bereshis.

Before the month ends we bless the month that will be coming.

And when we have our renewal of life at 70, especially if the question hasn’t been asked yet, each person must ask the question of “how am I making the most of my add-ons?” The State of Israel needs constant revision – how do we renew the Zionist spirit when our country is built and is so highly successful in so many ways? How do we deal with poverty, how do we resolve our internal conflicts? How do we deal with our enemies? How do we engage the world? How do we remain the Start-Up Nation?

Dov Gruner, one of the more famous Irgun fighters, who was executed by the British court in Palestine in 1947 at the age of 34, wrote to Menachem Begin when he was in prison awaiting his execution or the staying of it, "Of course I want to live. Who does not? But if I am sorry that I am about to 'finish' it is mainly because I did not manage to do enough.” Little did he know that his "not enough" is more heroic than most people achieve in full lifetimes.

Every year the New Moon is very close to Yom Ha’atzmaut. As noting its renewal is meant to be a recognition of God’s existence, and if 70 for each of us and for Israel is to be looked at as more than a gift and add-on, but as a rebirth of freedom that challenges us to make whatever comes after 70 to be even greater than what came before, then we all have our work cut out for us, don’t we? If we are blessed with such longevity, we should not ever feel like Dov Gruner that we did not do enough.

May Israel live long and prosper – now and forever!

Two Kinds of Humility - Aharon's Worthiness Over Moshe's

Parshat Shmini 

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

One of the more fascinating midrashim on the parsha paints the picture of Aharon, the High Priest, the Kohen Gadol, brother of Moshe, leader extraordinaire, hesitating before going to fulfill his sacred duty, because on the Mizbeach, on the altar where the sacrificial order is to take place he sees a vision – a vision of the Golden Calf.

Not only did he hesitate – he was embarrassed to continue.

And Moshe turns to him and says, “Approach the Altar” (9:7), and the Midrash attributes to Moshe as saying, “Why are you embarrassed (and therefore hesitating)? This is what you were chosen to do!”

The Slonimer Rebbe asks, “Really? Moshe, you’re telling Aharon not to be embarrassed over the Golden Calf?! It may be that he didn’t sin completely – he certainly didn’t worship the calf – but to deny that Aharon had some connection to the Golden Calf is ludicrous! Of course he should have at least a minimal sense of embarrassment!”

To the first point, the answer he gives is that the main sin of the Golden Calf was not in the making of it – which Aharon was involved in. It was the dancing, in which Aharon most certainly did not participate.

So Moshe says, “What are you embarrassed about? You had nothing to do with the sin component of the Golden Calf!”

And then the Slonimer Rebbe takes Moshe’s comment a step further. “Why are you embarrassed? You were chosen for this exact reason!” Meaning, the fact that you get embarrassed is the key character trait that allows YOU to be the Kohen Gadol.

It is certainly a tremendous character trait, to be humbled and to feel humiliation over a misdeed.

However, it is troubling all the same. Because if the criteria for being the Kohen Gadol is that you are the most humble person, then isn’t there a person higher on the humblest-of-all totem pole? Isn’t the guy giving you instructions even more humble than you, Aharon? Isn’t he described in the Torah as “the humblest of all men?” (Bamidbar 12:3)

To answer the question, the Slonimer Rebbe explains that there are two kinds of humility.

1. The first kind is the one in which a person feels small and inconsequential with respect to the Creator of the World. Seeking the cosmos he says “I’m a speck in the infinity of the Universe.”
2. The second kind of humility comes from embarrassment, through introspection, through looking at one’s deeds and realizing, I am unworthy to seek the presence of the Almighty.

The first type is Moshe’s model of humility. Having stood on the mountain he understood how small and insignificant he was.

Aharon’s humility is described in #2. With all the associations made between Aharon and the Golden Calf, Aharon has to live with this tarnish on his reputation. He reaches an even greater height through his own broken heart and feeling of worthlessness.

Moshe never achieved Aharon’s form of humility because he was never involved in any kind of sin to the degree that Aharon was involved, even if he stopped shy of the festivities.

And so Moshe is the chosen leader who is able to confront God and tell Him “You can’t destroy the people!” But Moshe does not receive the resting of God’s spirit, so intrinsic to the representative to brings the offerings and sacrifices on behalf of the people.

So significant is this particular brand of humility that King David wrote in Chapter 51 of Tehillim (the one composed after Natan the Prophet chastised him for his role in taking BatSheva and causing the death of Uriah), “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.” (verses 18-19)

Of all people, King David realized that when you’ve been to the Dark Side of sin, there’s only one road back. And it’s a difficult road of facing up to error. Of recognizing bad choices in life.

In some cases, in society, there is no shame. But in some cases, there is shame. And a lot of it. And the person, when reflecting on the events leading to the news breaking, might often quip, “Yes. I made mistakes. And I need to live with that.”

Who is greater? The person who sees God as beyond infinity and, then upon reflection says, “And I am nothing”? Or the person who reflects on personal life choices, says “I should not have done that. I have to live with my error. I am so grateful for a second chance. I am unworthy of having a role in a society. I’ll take what I can get. Thanks to the Almighty for second chances.”

I don’t think we have to look at these two types as in competition. But we do need to ask ourselves which of these is more relatable to our experience? And where can our humility take us, if indeed we see our smallness on account of it?

How do we get to such a level, where our relatable brand of humility is not only sincere, and heartfelt, but has the chance to outshine the humility of those who haven’t tasted sin, who just feel small in comparison to God?

It’s not a competition! It’s a personal challenge for each of us. To know who we are, to recognize where we stand, and to want to take the steps necessary to have a closer relationship with God.

Moshe became a “servant of God” and a “Man of God”. Aharon is arguably most famous for being a lover and pursuer of peace.. I don’t think either of these reputations are accidental.

They come from knowing yourself, facing your personal devils, and making a decision of where am I going to focus my energy.

Moshe focused it on Torah and God.

Aharon focused it on people and God.

Whichever way we can identify is the path we ought to forge. And hopefully, like Moshe and Aharon before us, and like the model set by King David in Tehillim, let our efforts bring us closer and closer to that ultimate goal of having a unique and special relationship with God.