Going Up In Holiness

Pesach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The concept of going up in holiness is one which gains prominence around Chanukah, as we light candles each night adding one. But the opinion of Beit Shammai is that we start with eight and light one less each night. 

Does Beit Shammai not believe in the idea of rising in holiness? He argues that we are mimicking the bull sacrifices of the Temple when we light those candles.

The truth is that the concept of rising in holiness is relative. For example, we start the holiday of Pesach and then we have Chol Hamoed – which is certainly a less holy time period. When there is a Shabbat Chol hamoed, we don’t even acknowledge that it’s Pesach in the Haftorah. While we may, we are not obligated to eat matzah on the last days of the holiday (unlike our obligation to eat matzah on the first night of the holiday!). Those who are strict about not eating gebrokts are often lax about eating it on the last day of the holiday. That is certainly not going up in holiness. 

A tale is told in the Talmud (Brachot), after Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya was deposed as being Nasi, there was a debate whether he could continue to lecture in the Nasi slot. They opted not to deny him the Nasi teaching slot, but to only give him less frequent opportunities to teach. Why? Because he can’t be brought down from the holiness level he had achieved. 

The Talmud in Megillah discusses three options of how people can read the minimal numbers of Torah verses – usually 10 altogether. Do we break down the 3 aliyahs to be 4,3,3, or 3,4,3 or 3,3,4? According to the view that praises the last person who reads 4, the argument is made that we go up in holiness. 

But if that is a rule, then neither 4,3,3 or 3,4,3 should be an option! 

Perhaps the principle can be applied in this way: sometimes “going up in holiness” has repercussions when we’re dealing with an individual’s honor. Sometimes it is a support to a practice, but doesn’t define the practice. 

Sefirat Ha’Omer is a great example. There is nothing inherently more holy about any day of Sefirah over another. Every day of Sefirah is the same on a holiness level. 

And yet, as we know, we count Sefirah upwards. Obviously, because we are going up in holiness. 

How, if each day’s level of holiness is the same?

If “going up in holiness” is a principle which supports our halakhic practice, we need to understand how it shapes how we observe Sefirah. 

Rabbi Soloveichik had a unique explanation for why we count Sefirat Ha’Omer “up” instead of like a countdown. Citing the Ran, he said we count the Omer today to reenact the counting of days from leaving Egypt until receiving the Torah. The people were not told on which date they’d receive the Torah, because God does not always reveal all the details of the end-game. 

Just as we don’t know when the Messiah will come, and we count years upwards, the Jews had to count upwards to the receiving of the Torah because they did not know exactly when that would take place. When we reenact our ancestors countup to Matan Torah, we also count upwards as our forefathers did after they left Egypt. There is an element of uncertainty in the religious experience. 

The Ktav V’hakabalah notes that the word used to describe the 7 weeks from Pesach to Shavuot is “Temimot,” which more often means perfect or wholesome, and not Shleimot, which would specifically mean “complete” or “full.” He defines Temimot as complete in quality, while Shleimot is a completion in quantity. 7 weeks Temimos means you haven’t missed a day of the 49. 

Quoting Rabbi Chiya in the Midrash, He says that “7 Temimot weeks are in fact temimot when the Jewish people fulfill God’s will.” 

In the end we need to recognize that holiness is less about trimmings, but about what we can achieve when we use our time well. 

Rabbi Soloveichik talked about counting up because that is how we look forward to Sinai. 

Maybe each of us can take upon ourselves a personal learning project in preparation for Shavuot. That is one way to “go up in holiness.” 

Another way to go up in holiness is through doing less judging of our fellow man, and more “putting the other person up” than “putting another person down.” 

Through this we will not only enhance our relationships, but bring holiness into our day to day encounters.

Bitterness, Humility, Redemption - Keys to Experiencing Freedom with our Children

Shabbat HaGadol 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

On the topic of the 4 sons, the Kli Yakar has a lengthy comment in Parshat Bo, which can be summarized with the following questions – to which I’ll provide brief answers.

1. Why does the Haggadah use the formula of 4 sons, implying a number of qualities about each? Why not just assume a childlike innocence and curiosity?
Answer. Children are not cut from the same mold. Each needs to be addressed according to how he learns. This is one of the messages of the Mishna, “that according to the way of the child is how his father should teach him.”

2. Why does the Haggadah not remain consistent, assigning the proper answers to each child as per how the questions raised are raised in the Torah?
Answer. Because the Haggadah has a very different agenda than the Torah. The Torah assumes an air of innocence in the (each?) child The Haggadah says – sure that’s ideal. But the fact remains that kids might be very different. So I might switch things around a bit, pulling from one script to use in the next.

3. The Torah sometimes has the child asking “tomorrow,” while in while in one case he is told Bayom Hahu (“on that day”) or in one sitting. Why can’t they all be the same?
Answer. Children learn differently. Some need immediate conversations. Some learn better when they’ve had a chance to process what they’ve experienced.

4. If all of these dialogues are supposedly focused on the purpose of the Seder, why don’t the questions focus on Rabban Gamliel’s bottom line obligation - a full understanding of the rules of Pesach, Matzah and Marror? Why are the questions either generic, general, or void of any content?
Answer. Because the questions are all pointing at a context which is clear – based on experience. Assuming the parent and child have had a shared experience, the child need not say much more.

With all that being said, I think we can go one step further and ask a fifth multiple-part question.

5. Why does the Torah specifically utilize the parent/child imagery? Isn’t it true that most learning takes place with a teacher or a chavrusa? Isn’t it true that there’s a limited amount of time in which children turn to their parents with questions and that most information is actually sought from a different source than from parents?

Perhaps the parent-child imagery is utilized because that is where fundamentals are ingrained.

Whether one has an amazing K-12 Jewish education or one has no K-12 Jewish education to speak of, what puts most people on the trajectory to success in Jewish living is how well the fundamentals of our lifestyle are ingrained at home. Some kids come out of school with a lot of knowledge, some think they know everything, and some are very well aware of their limitations. But the most committed Jews either emerge from committed homes or come to observance on their own, based on important values instilled in them from their own upbringing.

The parent/child method of learning is one of discovery, seeing things for the first time – being curious, wanting to understand, asking questions, willing to learn, ready to be taught, having a genuine desire to know. And this, in the realm of our Torah knowledge and our never ending Jewish education, is something we should always be blessed to have.

Kli Yakar describes 3 stages of growth through his explanation of the dialogue with the Wise Son.

1. Avdut – bitterness of Marror – the removal of the “dirt”
2. Hachnaah – the humility which is represented by Matzah.
3. Cheirut – freedom as represented by the Pesach, which is personified through serving God

What is the dirt of which we must rid ourselves?

An important principle in Judaism is to “love your neighbor as yourself.” Of course, in order to do the first half of that, one must be at peace with oneself – otherwise how would we know how to treat the other?

There is no excuse for self-loathing, unless one has a detestable character. But the very simple antidote to that detestable character is to do good deeds. “The heart is steered by one’s deeds.” One who wants to be a good person need to simply do nice things for others. It’s just a matter of (self) training.

There is an arrogance we unknowingly exhibit. We so easily see flaws in others, and not our own flaws. R Elimelekh of Lizhensk famously prayed “That each of us should see the positive qualities of others and not their flaws.” Not respecting someone else’s having been created in Tzelem Elokim (in the image of God) is pretty shmutzy. Judging a person for making different life choices is unbecoming. Calling human beings names they don’t call themselves is obnoxious childhood behavior.

What is the humility we must achieve?

The Torah’s depiction of the questions ascribed by the Haggadah to the simple son and the wise son has their conversations taking place “tomorrow.” Humility in one sense means we must be ready to wait with our confrontations until the heated moment has passed. We must train ourselves to have a tremendous amount of patience. But there is no comparison between the response one has in the moment, when passions are heated and high, and when passions have cooled.

I recently saw a great piece of advice.

When you want to tell someone off, go to your computer, compose an email that says everything you want to say, read it twice to make sure you made every point articulately, and then delete it without sending it.

The Talmud in Megillah (28a) has many examples of rabbis who were asked how they merited to live a long life. Among them, Rabbi Nechunya ben Hakanah speaks of never viewing himself as better than anyone else. He forgave everyone every night before he went to sleep.

Rabbi Eliezer taught (Avot 2:10) “Let your friend’s honor be more beloved to you than your own honor.” This is not just a slogan. It is the theme of life. One should think, “I’m not a big deal. Whatever honor I think I deserve should be given by me to the other person. And that other person should ideally be thinking and living the same way. But it’s not about me. It’s never about me.”

The connection to freedom the Kli Yakar raised was channeled through an appreciation of the role God plays in our lives.

“I have God before me always.” “I am to my Beloved and my Beloved is to me.” “For me, closeness to God is good.” What do these verses from Psalms and Song of Songs mean?

We can love Him all we want. We can really get into our davening, and always behave in shul and be the most humble and the most efficacious, and the greatest Torah learners.

But the real way we get closest to Him is through imitating Him. “Just as He is merciful, you are to be merciful.”

The Talmud passage in Megillah mentioned above gives many examples of those who merited long life because of their tremendous qualities, character traits, and care for their fellow man. God blessed them with long life because they were humble, subservient, respectful, never took benefit from someone else’s downfall, or even delighted in someone else’s failure.

Pesach, Matzah and Marror are meant to teach us what kinds of behaviors we don’t want in our lives (Marror), what kinds of behaviors we do want (Matzah), and what kinds of behaviors we can train ourselves to have (Pesach) that allow us to be the most gratified Jews in the service of God, who earn honor and respect because we give honor and respect, and who modestly fulfill the verse from Micah “to walk humbly with your God.”

Renewal in HaChodesh and in Life

Parshat Tazria and HaChodesh

by Rabbi Avi Billet

This Shabbat will be Rosh Chodesh, and we will read Parshat HaChodesh, an uncommon opportunity when we take out three Torahs.

HaChodesh and this Rosh Chodesh are both a celebration of the same date in time and history – the first Rosh Chodesh given to the Jewish people in Egypt, at the dawn of the month we now call Nissan, the beginning of the Jewish calendar.

Owing to the confluence of every Rosh Chodesh with the New Moon, there is a relationship between the word “Chodesh” and “Chiddush” (renewal or new idea).

The Midrash Aggadah recounts a number of Chiddushim – new ideas – that came about through the advent of the first Rosh Chodesh. 

1. Of all nations since the dawn of time, God chose to love THIS nation, evidenced by giving us Rosh Chodesh.
2. Since the time of Creation, God owned time. He transmitted the power to own time to the Jewish people.
3. “This month is for you” – I could have given it to Adam, or any human beings. But I gave it to the humans that comprise My people – The Children of Israel at the time of the Exodus.
 4. It’s the head of all months, because in this month, you are redeemed.

Rabbenu Bechaye says about the sanctifying of the month and the sanctifying of the renewed moon: “One who stands and blesses the moon is giving testimony about the renewal (Chiddush) of the world, which is a fundamental concept of faith. He recognizes the existence of God, 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 experienced this year with 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.”

Perhaps with a small leap, we can take the message of the Mechilta and apply it to its next logical step.

Every Shabbat we quote Tehillim (Psalms) 90: “The days of our lives are 70, and with increase, 80… It passes quickly and we fly away.” Two verses later we ask of God, “Teach the number of our days so that we shall acquire a heart of wisdom.”

Is it possible, based on this passage, that in line with “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?

We live in a marvelous time. Average life expectancy has gone from about 48-50 in 1900 to between 65-70 in the 1960s to over 80 in the 2010s – always a little longer for women than for men. Many people even make it to their 90s.

According to the verse from Tehillim 90 – it can be argued that anything after 70 is a gift. Perhaps we can call it a renewal. A Chiddush.

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 “This month is for you” is to serve as an example for you, to have a constant renewal. Re-energizing when the excitement of any activity or re-commitment ends, we find something new. We begin again.

When Daf Yomi finishes a tractate, they make a siyum and they go onto the next one.

When we finish reading a parsha Shabbat morning, by Mincha time 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 Bereshit.

When we read from multiple Torahs, we don’t remove the one we’re using until the next one is already on the table, ready to be used.

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?” In simple terms, it becomes a matter of perspective.

When Martin Luther King Jr was 39 he said "Like anybody, I would like to live - a long life; longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will." He was assassinated the next day.

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, penned a similar thought in one of the letters he sent 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.”

Perhaps we, no matter our age, can combine these two profound statements, of people who, in our own eyes, accomplished so much in so little time, and ask ourselves, “Are we doing enough in our efforts to do God’s will?”

Our parsha begins discussing birth - which is one kind of "renewal." It continues discussing the "renewal" that one who gets tzaraat must go through to rejoin society. Hopefully we can all be blessed with constant renewal in our lives, and may we always make the choice to be ever-growing and ever-renewing in our relationship with God.