The Torah, Protection from Illness, and Respecting Others

Parshat Bamidbar 

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

I don’t think it is strange to us now, because we are so used to it, but the idea that one tribe would stand head and shoulders above the other tribes of Israel seems to be rather anti-democratic. Mind you, the Torah doesn’t exactly have a democratic system, but it certainly isn’t autocratic. It is possible to have many judges and many batei din, and we all follow the same law books. The judges don’t write the law - they enforce the law; the king also doesn’t write the law, as he too is subject to the Torah’s laws and to the laws discussed by the Torah scholars of their generation. As we know from our own time, different hashkafot inform different perspectives, so even with the same Torah, there are many ways scholars of each generation define things. 

But the tribe of Levi does carry its own special status. Much of it has to do with their response to the Golden Calf, and surely there are other reasons as well. 

Our parsha makes several references to the change and transition that the tribe of Levi underwent in order to become “the Levites.” 

In his commentary on 1:53, on the portion that describes where the Levites lived and where they were to always be situated in the wilderness encampment, Netziv makes a few salient points. 

“They were [most directly] around the Mishkan for the honor and needs of the Mishkan, but it was also to protect Israel, as the divine presence was revealed most clearly in the Mishkan. As a result [of the divine presence being so close], Israel was at risk of being punished for any sin, as might be anyone who commits a crime close to the king’s palace. So the Levites served as a sort of buffer to protect [the people] from God’s wrath. 

“[Another purpose of this setup] was an opposite reason, so that they would protect Israelites from getting too close to the Mishkan. Another explanation… is that the Mishkan represents the power of the Torah to protect the Israelites from snakes and scorpions in the wilderness, as is well known, because firebolts would come from the Ark to burn those snakes and scorpions. Now God commanded the Levites to serve as the guardians of the Mishkan, through their study of Torah, and in their merit Israel would be protected, in the same manner that the Mishkan would normally protect them.” 

[Regarding the firebolts he references, see Devarim Rabba Ki Savo 7:9, Shir Hashirim Rabba 3:2, Midrash Tehillim 22, Yalkut Shimoni Shir Hashirim 992 s”v “Rauhah”] 

Whether we are meant to take this series of explanations literally or as a figurative idea, clearly there is a view that Netziv shares that the Leviim became representatives and guardians of the Torah, and their stewardship of this position also served as a guardian for the Bnei Yisrael. 

As we near the end of Sefiras Ha’Omer, we are faced with a reality-reminder that sadly the Torah is not an automatic guardian from all ills. We are told that Rabbi Akiva’s students, great masters of Torah, died from an illness during one season of Sefiras Ha’Omer. There are explanations given for why they perished, the most famous being that they didn’t respect one another, but one wonders if that is really the reason? Is “lo nahagu kavod zeh bazeh” a crime worthy of a death sentence? Where is that mentioned in the Torah as a capital crime? 

Perhaps a different tale of Rabbi Akiva and a student can help us understand. 

The Gemara in Nedarim relates: “There was a student of Rabbi Akiva who got sick, and the Chachamim did not come to check on him. Rabbi Akiva came to check, and because he cleaned the room (כבדו) and settled the dust, the student lived. He said, ‘Rebbe, you have brought me back to life!’ Rabbi Akiva emerged and taught ‘Anyone who does not check on the sick is as if he has spilled blood.’ When Rav Dimi came, he explained, ‘Anyone who visits the sick causes him to live, whoever does not visit the sick causes him to die.’ What causality is this? If you explain that one who checks on the ill is checking in order to pray for the person’s recovery, and anyone who does not check on the ill will be praying for mercy that the person die, do you really mean to say a person would pray that the sick person should die? Rather [Rav Dimi meant] that whoever does not check on the sick person does not pray for the person at all – neither that the person should live nor that the person should die!” (Nedarim 40a) 

Theories surrounding why Rabbi Akiva’s students died abound. Did they all get a contagious disease because they spent so much time together? [If so, how was Rabbi Akiva spared? Didn’t he spend time with his students?] Was it simply a gezeirah (decree) from heaven that they should die? Was it a punishment? Or did they die because no one visited them – which is not a death sentence, but a sad reflection on their general behavior towards one another, with a dire outcome? Can we read “Lo nahagu kavod zeh lazeh” to say “Lo nahagu kibud zeh lazeh," the word used to described how Rabbi Akiva had the room with the sick student cleaned up, causing him to live? 

Rabbi Nachman says they died of Askerah (Yevamos 62b), which is “the worst of the 903 methods of dying that God put into the world.” (See Gemara Brachos 8a (a fascinating page for our times, if one reads from the top of the page! Askerah’s definition is subject to dispute – it may have been an intestinal issue or a throat issue, or a combination of both. Is it contagious though? It depends on what illness it really is!) 

The biggest question is, would they have suffered this fate if they had behaved differently? Shouldn’t their Torah protect them? Shouldn’t Rabbi Akiva’s teachings and merits protect them? 

In the passages in Nedarim and Yevamos, Rabbi Akiva learned and taught a profound lesson from the experiences he had watching his students, one get better, and the many die. His teaching from the one who got better was to look after the ill, check in on them, see that their needs are taken care of properly, that someone is advocating on their behalf. Otherwise they will die. His teaching gleaned from the students who died (there is a passage in the Tanchuma on Chayei Sarah that indicates he only had 300 students who died – which is a very different number than the one we are familiar with from the Talmud in Yevamos) was to teach Torah in your youth, in case you need to teach Torah again in your old age (because all your students die). 

It is also possible that Rabbi Akiva taught that “V’ahavta L’reiakha kamokha” (to love your neighbor as yourself) is an important principle of the Torah (Yerushalmi Nedarim 9:4 and many Midrashim) after learning the lesson of what happens to students who don’t respect one another. 

In sum, it is hard to point to the reason for their death, but we are meant to learn the lessons Rabbi Akiva learned and the lessons the Talmud teaches us about respecting others. 

What the ancients knew about disease is certainly a fascinating subject. What did they know about viruses and things the human eye cannot see? Answers to that question may help us understand the Rabbi Akiva students story better. At the same time, no matter what modern scholarship has uncovered about that era, I am sure there are a lot of unanswered questions – the debate rages on about the fate of Rabbi Akiva’s students. 

People are different. Some people are naturally immune to certain diseases, based on the unique molecular structure of their blood, along with many other explanations that science can point to, as well as explanations that evade human knowledge and understanding. 

The same holds true about the virus our world is dealing with. As more people get it, as more tests are done, as more data is analyzed, more information comes out. The varying views of experts demonstrate there is no expertise on this Coronavirus because it is all relatively new for everyone. Many people have gotten it with no signs of illness or discomfort. It is likely that many people who were exposed didn’t contract it at all. 

So what are we to do? 

If we internalize what the Talmud is telling us, we would see that the world and life is much bigger than the story that has overtaken the media in the last few months. We would see that the non-checking in on the sick (many who died because they had no advocate in their hospital or care-facility), and the fear that prevented many people nationwide from going to the hospital to address their other health issues has also carried a death toll. From reports I saw, that number is in the tens of thousands. That’s the Rabbi Akiva lesson from Nedarim 40. 

We would understand that there are many ways that people die. The range of their pleasantness to unpleasantness (that’s how the Gemara describes the range!) is discussed in the Talmud, but the Talmud makes it clear that death is part of life. We have always known this, and yet many of us fear death because it is an unknown. Perhaps it is also because we feel we have much more to do in this life! But are we taking steps to accomplish that which we may think we still need to do? That’s a lesson from Brachos 8. 

Most importantly, we would treat each other nicely. Some of the explanations surrounding Rabbi Akiva’s students’ behavior demonstrate that people who had different opinions, different methods of learning and different speeds for processing information, were degraded, denigrated, and simply not given basic human courtesy and decency for being and thinking differently than the elite students. That’s the lesson from Yevamos 62. 

I have a hypothetical question: What would the last ten weeks have looked like if there were no 24/7 media, no social media, no daily press conferences, no radio or podcasts, and maybe just a daily newspaper? (Certainly the mind can veer from doom, gloom and Armageddon (one extreme) to our world experiencing a worse virus than we might be used to seeing, but with personal quarantines and noted caution versus a complete shutdown of life for all (a different extreme). I guess we’ll never know!) Would the country be divided in the response to and aftermath of the virus on political lines? Would we live in fear of one another? Would we hate people who see things differently than our vantage points?

Maybe we need the Leviim and the Torah to protect us. Maybe we need to learn the lessons Rabbi Akiva learned. Maybe we need to daven harder for ourselves and for the world. We certainly need to respect one another without caveats and without limitations (especially when our differences are in the realm of opinions). 

With blessings of health and safety to all, Shabbat Shalom U’mevorach!

Reclaiming Liberty – Is it Possible?

Parshat B'har-B'chukotai

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

In the United States of America, there are few phrases that are as famous as those which adorn some of our national monuments. Many can recite at least part of Emma Lazarus’ poem on the Statue of Liberty, everyone knows of “E Pluribus Unum” (Of many, one) and “In God We Trust” which appear on our currency. The phrase on the Liberty Bell, “Proclaim liberty throughout the land…” is also well known. This last one appears in Parshat B’har (25:10), in the context of the declarations made in the Yovel (Jubilee) year, as debts were cancelled, land was returned to its ancestral owner, and all Hebrew slaves were set free. (Most commentaries actually translate the word to be “freedom” over “liberty” but I suppose in modern language they are somewhat synonymous). 

What does it mean to be or become a Hebrew slave? It means to have made a decision that “I can’t take care of myself, and I’d rather indenture myself to someone for a period of time, working without worry about my food and shelter.” In some cases, the person may have stolen and been forced into this arrangement. 

But this is not a natural state. In fact, this is the opposite of what the Torah mandates, which is to toil for six days and rest on the seventh (Shemos 20:9, 23:12, 31:15, 34:21, 35:2, Vayikra 23:3). Or to toil for six years and rest in the seventh year (Shemos 23:10, Vayikra 25:3). Just about all of these instructions are written in the singular, which is a certain indication that the idea of working for someone else as an indentured servant, or however we wish to define “Eved Ivri,” is far from ideal. It’s one thing to have a job and to receive a pay check, and certainly to work for oneself or as an independent contractor. It’s an entirely different matter to live in the master’s home completely indebted to the master. 

Chizkuni compares the freedom that comes in the 50th year to the conclusion of the work-life of a Levite, which would end at age 50, linking the phrase “and he shall not work anymore” (which references the Levite) to the experience of the Eved Ivri who goes free, who shall not be working for his master anymore. 

Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch is a little more methodical in trying to define the word “Dror” which up to now has been translated as “liberty” or “freedom.” Using a number of examples from the Bible and Talmud, he notes that the translation is correct, but that the etymology is still curious. His analysis concludes with two major points. “The basic meaning of Dror would be to follow a natural tendency.” The explanation of the word in our verse is that “Persons and property revert to where they naturally belong – man reverts to his family, and property reverts by right of original ownership.” 

Of course it is to be noted that the status of the Eved Ivri was undoubtedly better than most “avadim” we might otherwise imagine. Note the Talmud (Kiddushin 20a) which even equates the “owner” of the Eved Ivri as having acquired a master for himself insofar as he must share his bread made of superior flour, his aged wine, provide a similar soft mattress, etc. And yet, the situation remains, in how we perceive it, unnatural. 

What, therefore, is natural? According to the verse, what we call “liberty” is natural! It is most ironic that in the history of Mankind, “Liberty” was not natural. Between monarchs (which include benevolent rulers but much more often authoritarian dictators) and oligarchies, along with slavery which accompanied the vast majority of kingdoms, empires and governments, most of humanity never experienced freedom until democracies and republics came about. Certainly some scientists and philosophers emerged and contributed to the world in significant ways (we know their names), but they were not the majority of humanity. 

I have heard it said that “Liberty is a value, not a yearning.” It is not human instinct. John Stuart Mill wrote that an early definition of liberty “was meant protection against the tyranny of the political rulers.” Which essentially means that in their so-called liberty, people wanted to be protected and taken care of by the person or leadership that had the power to do so, while being relatively kind to them (not enacting tyrannical rule). 

In a more contemporary definition, he argued “the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others.” (His essay on Liberty is here: https://www.utilitarianism.com/ol/one.html) 

With this definition in mind, one wonders if the value of Liberty which is espoused in the Torah is one which we value today, if we have a right to it, or if we are to put our so-called liberties in the hands of people who may be arguably viewed as a modern-day oligarchy? Of course, Mill's concern of preventing harm to others was more likely thinking of a person who is violently dangerous who can be imprisoned rather than a person who is sick, who until relatively recently knew to self-quarantine until the illness passed, and then life continued. 

In the Torah, according to Rav Hirsch, liberty refers to how things were before. We declare it once every fifty years, but in truth it’s an ideal for all time. We don’t want there to be Eved Ivri. And while for the sake of business and commerce it is important to buy and lease land, we want land to remain owned within its ancestral heritage. 

In these days many businesses are rethinking how they will do business. I think that some of the more intimate kinds of businesses (barbers, salons, etc) will actually have an easier time than places that thrive on larger crowds (theaters, sports, etc.) because it’s easier to protect you and me, than it is to protect such a huge crowd. 

Yet I struggle with Mill’s definition ("to prevent harm to others"), because self-protection in Corona-time is actually quite simple. For those who do not wish to run any risk, stay isolated at home! Do not have any contact with anyone! And don’t impose a personal need of isolation on those who don’t need to isolate! 

There are plenty of people who do wish to venture out, who do wish to engage in life as it was (Hirsch’s definition of liberty). Surely these people do not wish ill upon themselves, so we can surely argue that they don’t want anyone to get sick. The question is what is the cost of lockdown-for-all vs opening-all with mild (or severe?) precautions? 

Even in Mill's definition, “the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any [person]… is to prevent harm to others.” The percentages of people who are harmed by this disease are very small, and for the most part, we know who the most vulnerable are. The argument that the most vulnerable should be protected while everyone else goes about life is a valid argument, even if some people disagree with it. As for “the asymptomatic carrier” – that refers to a generally healthy person who, even if having had the disease asymptomatically, doesn’t carry it forever. So now society is being trained to be fearful of asymptomatic people! As a result, grandparents are not visiting with their grandchildren, even though the children are not sick. 

And so we’re faced with a strange reality and conundrum. Because a few individuals who are in positions of authority (some elected, some unelected) have made a few pronouncements, it looks like much of the country, and especially the Orthodox Jewish world, have fallen in line without questioning. Never mind how many predictions made by these people have been proven wrong. Never mind how many times they’ve changed their opinions over time. Never mind how some do not have the Jewish people’s interests in mind. Never mind that there are many scientists and medical personnel who think differently. And of course this is not to ignore the tragic circumstances some have personally witnessed – though even Dr. Fauci said in his call with the OU last week that every region is different! 

What has happened as a result is we (the collective Jewish community) have taken the “pikuach nefesh” card to such a degree that we will hold off opening our shuls until we are “sure that it is safe.” Who will be making that call? How can anything be assured? Or, a different claim, we will resume operations when there’s a vaccine. There has never been a successful vaccine made for other coronaviruses (such as SARS and MERS, which both disappeared within two years without lockdowns!), so we could be waiting forever on that timeline, or even if one is miraculously made, at least another year! 

“Do you want people to die?” Of course not! But I do worry about people having a good portion of their identity ripped away from them for a long period of time which really has no end in sight. And I am also seriously troubled by those who have declared the groups of ten who have gathered – following social distancing rules – to make “backyard minyanim” in different areas of the country “idolators who worship the minyan.” Seriously? If they are following current suggested protocols of safety, how is this idolatry? Who can presume to know what drives a person, and that their intentions are idolatrous? Our synagogue has discouraged the practice, but far be it from me to blame someone who desperately wants to say a kaddish, and does so in a manner that is unquestionably safe. Should we need to, we can criticize with love and say "We recognize how meaningful it is to you to daven with a minyan. In consultation with our poskim, we continue to discourage this practice, while reminding you that during this time our contemporary halakhic decisors have indicated there is no mitzvah to seek out a minyan - due to pikuach nefesh concerns." 

Many rabbis have been sharing anecdotes of great rabbis of yesteryear who fled from a plague, sometimes for many months until they felt it was safe to come home to resume life – yet I’m sure that wherever they were, whomever they were with, they continued to pray together, until the coast seemed clear. There are never guarantees, but I suppose they followed their own version of statistics. 

In my own naivete, I gain solace from this week’s Haftorah, which includes the following statements (translated for space limitations): “So says Hashem, ‘Accursed is the person who trusts in people and makes mortals his strength, and turns his heart away from Hashem…Blessed is the person who trusts in Hashem, then Hashem will be his security…’ Heal me Hashem, and I will be healed, save me and I will be saved, for You are my praise.” (Yirmiyahu 17:5,7,14) 

Maybe if we all put more faith in God than in man we’d be in a better place. But don’t blame me for saying that. Please blame the prophet Yirmiyahu.

Escaping the Unavoidable? – Raising Ourselves Up From Fear

Parshat Emor

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

As in other very trying times in Jewish history, the Jewish people have always turned to humor as an escape. The humor was never meant to make fun of those suffering directly or indirectly, but as a coping mechanism for Jews to help keep spirits up. There was humor during Czarist Russia, humor during Nazi Germany, humor behind the Iron Curtain, humor during Arab-Israel wars, and there is humor now. Many of us have been sharing memes and jokes. A friend of mine sent me a line “Of all the things I learned in grade school, trying to avoid cooties was the last one I expected to use.” 

The truth is that there is a form of “cooties” in our ancient tradition that is even talked about in our parsha: the concept of being “tamei.” There is much talk in the Torah about “tumah” and “taharah.” In fact, the rules of Kosher and non-Kosher animals is actually defined in these terms (kosher animals are tahor, while the non-Kosher are tamei), as the word “Kosher” (literally: ‘fit to be used’) does not even appear in any of the Torah’s discussions of food rules. 

In very simple terms, tumah is something we try to avoid, and being in a state of tumah is a barrier to participating in some specific holy activities. In particular a Kohen is instructed, even in our times when there is no Beit Hamikdash, to live a life of avoiding certain aspects of tumah, most notably a corpse (the source of the highest & deepest level of tumah). While commanded in our parsha 3400 years ago, until today Kohanim have very limited participation in funerals for this reason! 

In Temple times, the avoidance of even lower levels of tumah might have been accomplished through an early form of social distancing. Like cooties (pardon the comparison), tumah is passed through touch, or in some cases, through coming in contact with something that someone who is tamei may have touched or sat on. Sometimes individuals who are tamei don’t even know of their own tumah – which is why before entering the Temple Courtyard everyone needed to go through the ‘taharah process’ of the Parah Adumah (Red Heifer). 

This is a simplification of what tumah was and is, but I think it is very relevant as a metaphor for what we are seeing today. The easiest way to avoid tumah is to stay home all day, knowing exactly with what and with whom you come in contact. There is limited to no risk of becoming tamei. 

Venturing out, even in a social distance fashion, still has a fairly good score in the avoiding-tumah radar scale. But there is far less guarantee – you don’t know what you will touch, what you might pass, any of which may carry transferable tumah. 

And, once you decide to engage in society in any way, truly all bets are off. One can try to distance and avoid people, but shy of being a recluse and a hermit, once one ventures into society, getting physically close to people (and therefore to known or unknown tumah), sometimes even for a moment, is unavoidable. 

We all have to assume that we are tamei in one form or another. 

We are faced with a world we have never seen before, and a very difficult dilemma that we face in contemplating our future. 

Unlike tumah, which reinvents itself all the time through the concept of death, we have no idea what the future of the novel Coronavirus holds. There are theories of its being sourced from a lab, and theories of it being sourced from an open animal-food market (one wonders if we’ll ever know the real truth). Will it be a one-time thing (with all of its mutations), or will it be around forever? Might it disappear if all its cultures weren’t being preserved? We have no idea. With all the deaths we have seen (which beg the question of whether people died “from” Corona or “with” Corona), as well as the reports that over 90% of the people who get infected experience mild to no symptoms, it’s hard to know whether to be really frightened or to be overwhelmingly optimistic of one’s chances. (Some regions have been overwhelmed by the back-log and it feels like a Churban-like era.) 

Tumah doesn’t carry the threat of death, so the parallel is certainly not the same. And of course, those with comorbid issues certainly need to be cautious of Corona. But as we see numbers go down (and may they continue to go down worldwide!) we have to ask ourselves what life is about. What are we living for? 

Those who are afraid will likely not venture out. “We want to live!” 

Those who are unafraid will venture out! “We too want to live!” 

If we had a crystal ball to tell us what our society will look like when this is over (or even better – an exact date for when this will be over), it would be easy. Many of us would happily give up a few more months of isolation in exchange for a Corona-free world. 

But this could drag on for a lot longer, as long as a reasonably priced successful treatment is denied to the public. And then what? 

What is the purpose of a life of isolation? Are our days boring? Do we have something to look forward to each day? Some of us are walking, biking, getting outside on a regular basis. Many of us are davening daily, some alone, some with a group online. Some of us are reading novel after novel, article after article, book after book. Some of us are learning Torah – a lot of Torah. And some of us are in front of a computer or television screen much of the day, watching videos and shows, trying to keep ourselves entertained. 

Life has meaning if we find meaning. Life has meaning if we make it meaningful. 

Just like we can’t live a life hiding from tumah, living a life guided by a principle of “forever isolating from Corona” will eventually lead to a different kind of death. A death from boredom, a death of the spirit of life, a death of the soul. O – we might be alive and breathing, but will we have anything to say to justify our choices in our day-to-day existence, when we are faced with difficult questions posed to us by a higher power? 

Many of us were born into this Jewish life. Most of us made a choice to stay in it. Now we are faced with a tremendous opportunity to go beyond rote and ritual, and tap into our souls, perhaps in a manner we never really gave ourselves time to explore. 

Has our davening in isolation changed and improved? Has our connection to God grown in this time? Have we undertaken Torah-study projects we never gave ourselves time for? Have we read through all of Tehillim yet, studied a new book of the Tanach, made a siyum on mishnayos, ventured into a world of Talmud, listened to a shiur (or more!) online? Have we read interesting and challenging articles from tabletmag.com (this one was very thought provoking: https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/belief/articles/covid-haredi-magical-thinking) or opened the seforimblog (https://seforimblog.com/2020/05/towards-a-bibliography-of-coronavirus-related-articles-seforim-written-in-the-past-month-updated-black-weddings-and-others-segulot/) or other similar websites? 

Like everyone else, I wish for life to return to normal. But in the meantime, as long as we ARE healthy and can do meaningful things, we must make the choice to raise our spirit up, as we rise to our own individual challenges of taking things to a higher level. 

If we had our druthers we’d try to avoid tumah like the plague. But sometimes we also see that there’s nowhere to go to run from it. So life must be faced head-on. We can utilize precaution, but not every precaution is fool-proof or even wise. Some become counterproductive, contributing to depression and despair, or avoiding addressing other medical issues, which is also a threat to health and personal wellbeing. 

We should be blessed to pick up the pieces of life soon, with a return to relative normalcy. More than anything, we should be blessed to overcome the fear that is paralyzing us, and holding us back from achieving amazing things.

Observance of Yarzeit When There is No Minyan

With shuls being closed during the COVID-19 scare, many men are now finding that their yarzeit observances have been curtailed as they can't say Kaddish, get an aliyah, or lead services.

Welcome to the club of many women who observe yarzeits without similar possibilities available (though I believe women may certainly say Kaddish when there is a minyan)!

The following is a letter I shared with my congregation before the holiday of Pesach.
************************************************
Dear Members and Friends

 A number of people have asked me about the recitation of Kaddish when there is no minyan available, so this is a note aimed at helping clear a few things up.

 If you are in Aveilus or will be observing a yahrzeit in the coming weeks, as we don't know when the shul will reopen, please consider printing the attached page (and perhaps this email as well), so it will be available for you.

 In the page, there are four sources, all labeled letters A, B, C, D.

 A&B are the same - in Hebrew, English, and transliteration. On account of the Kaddish motifs which appear in the prayer, there are opinions that recommend this "Al HaKol" prayer in lieu of Kaddish. In the footnote on that text, there is a recommendation from Sefer Hasidim to say the 3 verses in C in place of Kaddish.

 Section D is a prayer in the Artscroll Siddur that can be found right next to Barchu (just after Pesukei D'Zimrah). It too has Kaddish motifs in it, and I have recently heard of it being a recommended substitute for Kaddish as well, when one is praying alone.

 No matter which substitute you choose, it should serve as a merit for the Neshama of the Deceased, whether in the 11 months of Kaddish, or when observing the Yahrzeit.

 The remainder of this note appears on the Aliyah Policy Board in the lobby of Anshei Chesed, and aptly summarizes the activities one could undertake as a merit to the soul (ideas credited to Rabbi N Slifkin). Please note that all the advisories have nothing to do with getting an Aliyah, saying Kaddish, or leading services.

Yahrzeit Practices to Benefit the Soul

There are many things that can be done as a merit for the soul of the deceased. They include: lighting a candle, saying Tehillim, learning Mishnayot (any Torah suffices), making a siyum, giving others a chance to say Brachot , giving Tzedakah or a donation to the shul in memory of the loved one. You can sponsor the daily Daf Yomi class to provide an Aliyah La’Neshama or a Zecher La’Neshama 

1. Aliyah La’Neshama– an elevation of the person’s soul in the afterlife, that anyone can enable via studying Torah or performing good deeds for their sake, such as saying Brachot with them in mind. 

2. Zecher La’Neshama – creating a remembrance for the person in this world by honoring them. This can be done through the study of Torah in their memory, or through doing acts of kindness and charity in their memory.

3. Kapparah La’Neshama – providing atonement for the soul of the person in the afterlife, via prayer and/or charity.

4. Zechut La’Neshama – providing a merit for the person, limited to actions taken by direct descendants or blood relatives. The “merit” is automatic, based on how the descendant lives a Jewish life, and therefore serves as a credit to their deceased relative. 

Life is Gray and Much is Unclear

Parshat Acharei Mot-Kedoshim 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

The last two weeks have seen new kinds of ways that community gets together. Between Yom HaShoah and Y’mei Zikaron and Atz’maut, the creativity that has emerged to help people feel united even when we are apart has been a source of inspiration. 

At the same time, it remains a source of sadness, mostly because getting together in a Zoom meeting room is not the same as being with people. Humans are social beings, and we need the interactions and the personal connections. 

Noting Yom HaShoah calls to mind two relevant points. The first, the current virus has finally done to some of our precious Shoah survivors what the Nazis and over 75 years since WWII were not able to do. This is a tragedy for their family members, as well as for all of us who are slowly witnessing the steady decline towards no living survivors. May it not be soon – but certainly we all know that time will eventually win. The second point is that anytime we feel despair over our current conditions, we can look to the Shoah period to see what real despair and hardship is, and while we live in awe and admiration of those who went through it and built lives after that terrible time, in our time we ought to count our blessings. 

We have also seen ways in which communities continue to be torn apart. 

In this double parsha, we have a few verses that follow one another: “You shall not be a talebearer among your people, do not stand on your brother’s blood. Don’t hate your brother in your heart, rebuke your kinsman and don’t bear a sin because of him. Don’t take revenge and don’t carry a grudge against members of your people, you shall love your fellow as yourself.” (Vayikra 19:16-18) 

Having recently buried a dear friend and mentor (who died of natural causes and not the virus) who lived a halakhic life guided by a personal mantra that “Life is gray,” I am troubled by all the black and white that exists among our people with respect to everything that is going on around us. The problem we face is that there is no conversation. There is no subtlety. There is no room or allowance for questioning authority, even though there are people who are authorities in their own (very relevant) fields who have very differing opinions. 

Just this week, there are different narratives surrounding what took place at a Rabbi’s funeral in New York City. While many people certainly found the NYC mayor’s words troubling and inconsistent in calling out “the Jewish community,” while never calling out any other specific communities, while also not personally following his own guidelines, there has also been a full scale condemnation of those who attended the funeral. There is a whole lot of talebearing going on. There is a whole lot of hating, grudge carrying, and anti-loving your neighbor. Even among the Jewish people. 

Don’t stand on top of your neighbor’s blood? Everyone has a choice as to whether they want to participate. People know what is going on. (No one is deliberately putting others at risk or deliberately infecting others.) While there is what to be said about having a private funeral, as so many are doing, there is also what to be said about giving a “kavod acharon,” while planning to follow recommended protocols – in conjunction with the NYPD, as was purportedly the plan and what was given a go-ahead. 

I accept a narrative that most people were following rules, while some were not. (This is called giving benefit of the doubt) Rebuke your kinsman? That applies when your brother will listen. And it also applies when you have absolute correctness on your side, and the other side is completely wrong. 

What is absolute these days? 

This is a difficult time for a lot of people. This is true. 

New York City environs have been the worst hit in comparison with the rest of the country. This too is true. 

The CDC guidelines for reporting COVID deaths are very vague and inconsistent with other elements of certainty typically required of reporting deaths. While this is true (see here: https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/covid-data/faq-surveillance.html), the “why” is not clear. Why do they want to pump up the numbers? A true conclusion I can reach regarding data is that the numbers are not accurate. (This is not to suggest that people are deliberately lying.) 

So here is a sampling of questions that a person who tries to think in “terms of gray,” who wants to give people the benefit of the doubt, who is trying very hard to respect freedoms, who wants to love my neighbor, who doesn’t want to hate my brother, who feels rebuke only works when there is an ear for it, who questions where we draw the line in what defines standing over our brothers blood, who is not a fan of talebearing or snitching on neighbors, wonders. 

I accept that some people will not like these questions. Some might even call this line of questioning “dangerous” (because questions have somehow become dangerous). But I am not dictating any policy here. Simply asking questions. And I also know that pikuach nefesh guides much in terms of Jewish practice. But certainly even pikuach nefesh must take a cost-benefit analysis of many things (see 3rd question below). Life is never risk-free, it is never illness-free, it is never challenge-less, and it is never fully sanitary-squeaky clean. Assuming otherwise is simply denying world history (to bring one example: Until World War II - more soldiers died in every war from disease than from combat. Surely this change is thanks to medical advances - and it has only improved since then, surely on account of hygiene advances out in the field of warfare. Combat death - while all tragic - outnumber deaths from disease in war zones.)

• Why is the media divided on party lines on support for lockdown versus questioning the lockdown? (If it's the right thing to do, why are many people questioning it?)

• Why is there so much information on masks – spanning from “if you keep reusing them” and “if you keep touching them and moving them (in other words, use them incorrectly)” they don’t work, to “they are the best protector against disease no matter what”? Which is correct? 

• Why are politicians (and citizens) mostly divided on party lines over support for continued lockdown versus opening things up out of genuine concern for the non-virus related consequences of lockdown (which include unemployment, hunger, economy, food shortage, depression, alcoholism, abuse, drugs, suicide, violence, crime, deaths that come from not having visitors and advocates in the hospital)?  (Of course everyone is concerned about these things, but some view the repercussions of lockdown as a more dire emergency than others)

• Why aren’t all success stories of treatment of virus patients, by doctors who have real information, explored as methods of healing? Why are things ‘not approved by the WHO’ considered ‘dangerous’ (any more than the virus is dangerous)? (Why does the World Health Organization decide for anyone, especially when they dropped the ball with respect to their initial reports on the virus?)

• Why, when a number of people speak of herd immunity (that the virus really needs to go through the population for the population to be best protected) is this shunned, especially when we are told that 95% of people will have zero to mild symptoms? [We certainly must protect those in hospitals, nursing homes, and those with conditions that have been known to be dangerous as co-morbid issues when combined with the virus! Statistics always have small aberrations (and for the people affected, who certainly should not be viewed on a personal level as a statistic, statistics are irrelevant), but reports from around the world are showing mostly the same things in defining the most vulnerable.] 

• Why are doctors and scientists and epidemiologists and virologists and mathematicians (who crunch the numbers and analyze data) expected to all come to the same conclusions, and if they don’t, then those who don’t fall in line with the flavor of the day are silenced? Different views all have merits, and shouting down or censoring those who think differently is anti-progress.

• Who are the real experts, if so many ‘experts’ are flummoxed by what they’ve seen? 

• Why are politicians who meet at the White House every day allowed to stand near each other, while other human beings are not allowed to stand near each other? 

• Why are some hospitals overwhelmed, and some are shutting down floors and laying off doctors, nurses, and staff because very few people are coming to ERs and ICUs? 

• Why do we assume motivations about feelings to people who don’t share our perspectives, perhaps painting them as unfeeling or as uncaring about people? 

• And in our own communities, is there a way to wean ourselves back into having services again: First setting a maximum attendance in a spaced out area on weekdays - only with those who wish to be there? Then gradually creating a feeling of comfort that will allow us to see that the danger has passed? [Each region of the country is different, and needs to take its own situation into account.] 

• Why do we label those who want to have services "evil" and "stupid" and "sinners" and "idolators"? 

• Those who want to quarantine should quarantine, and those who want to live life as it was can join the pact of those who agree and take the same kind of risks that a life of exposure to bacteria and viruses has always presented to us.

Like anyone, while being realistic about how life works, I don't want anyone to get sick, and I certainly don't want anyone to die. But how much is in our hands, and how much is not?

I heard an interesting line recently - “’Until it’s safe,’ means, ‘never.’” 

That is a different fear I have. In retrospect, life was pretty good before lockdowns. Will we ever trust our neighbors again? (I hope so)

Will we be calling the police on neighbors? Will be talebearers? Will we look at all people as possible 'asymptomatic carriers' and never go near them again? Will we presume motivation of those we think are guilty of standing on top of our neighbors’ blood, even if our evidence is at best shoddy? Will things never be as they were before? 

I hope not. 

Will we ever shake a hand again? Give a hug? Will we have the social gatherings we used to enjoy? Will we be able to sit next to each other in shul? Will we have services on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur this year? Will we love one another, no matter what? Will we stop judging others who think differently (we are all wired a little differently – just look at how we fall into political lines of thinking)? Will we love our neighbor? Will we stop carrying grudges? 

I hope so. 

I certainly mourn the lives that have been lost. The tragedies that have befallen too many families in some regions of the country, in many of our communities, and of course all over the world are hard to grasp. 

But, as my friend and mentor put it, “Life is gray.” Would it only be that what we think is clear is really so clear. 

Too many people forget that we have a belief system that notes all of this was decreed on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. It is very hard to stomach, and very hard to come to grips with, because we like to think we are in control. 

But life is gray. Isn’t it?