How the Shepherd Comforts

Shabbat Nachamu 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The Haftorah for Shabbos Nachamu gets its name from the first (and second) word of the Haftorah – נחמו נחמו עמי. “Console, console, My people.” Or “Be comforted, be comforted, My people.” 

Chapter 40 of the book of Yeshayahu is essentially the turning point from Yeshayahu’s exhortations and rebukes about what will lead to the Churban (destruction) of Jerusalem as he transitions to becoming the prophet of comfort. All the Haftorahs we’ll be reading over the next 7 weeks are from this latter section in Yeshayahu, and are thus appropriately classified as the שבעה דנחמתא, the 7 Haftorahs of comfort. 

Were the message to be limited to one phrase, we’d only need the one verse to be the Haftorah. As the Haftorah is 26 verses long, let us look to the middle to find a different message that goes beyond the simple comfort that comes from consolation. 

 In a 3-verse section to which he gives the caption “The Cry of the Herald of Zion” Professor Yaakov Elman (The Living Nach) translates verses 10-11 in this way: “Look, the Lord God is coming in might! His arm wins victory for Him. His reward is with Him and His compensation precedes Him. Like a shepherd pasturing his flock, He gathers the lambs in His arm and carries them in His bosom, leading the mother sheep.” 

Artscroll translates the same verses: “Behold, my Lord, HASHEM/ELOHIM, will come with [a] strong [arm], and His arm will dominate for Him; behold, His reward is with Him, and His wage is before Him. [He is] like a shepherd who grazes his flock, who gathers the lambs in his arm, who carries them in his bosom, who guides the nursing ewes.” 

Chabad.org/library (a great online resource!) translates it as follows: “Behold the Lord God shall come with a strong [hand], and His arm rules for Him; behold His reward is with Him, and His recompense is before Him. Like a shepherd [who] tends his flock, with his arm he gathers lambs, and in his bosom he carries [them], the nursing ones he leads.” 

The change in the use of the capital H when referencing “Him” v. “him” demonstrates how the translator views the verse as describing God directly or describing the shepherd that God might be imitating through gathering the sheep. 

Before going into a specific analysis of verse 11, it is worthy to note that the term translated as “Lord God” is read in Hebrew as “Adonoy Elohim,” but the spelling of those two names of God are not the typical spelling we see for either name. The former is usually the Tetragrammaton (God’s 4-letter name of yud and heh and vav and heh) and the second is usually spelled exactly as it sounds. In this case, the first name is actually spelled as it sounds, alef, dalet, nun, yud, and the second name is spelled with the Tetragrammaton (!) but pronounced as written in the quotations in the second line of this paragraph. 

This spelling is the same as the exact phrase which appears in the second verse of our parsha (Devarim 3:24), and there Ramban comments that it references God as the Master of the Attribute of Mercy (אדון במדת רחמים). (Normally the first pronounced name of this phrase is connected with God’s Mercy, while the second pronounced name is connected with God’s Judgment. Because the first word is spelled using the root of אדון, Master, Ramban uses it in that sense, while ignoring the pronunciation of the second name of God, focusing on its spelling alone to evoke God’s mercy.) 

This explanation would further indicate that it is really a doubling down of God’s quality of Mercy which is being championed here in the Haftorah, as we see God as a shepherd to His people whether directly or through a metaphor. 

The term which is translated above as “mother sheep,” “nursing ones,” and “nursing ewes” is עָלוֹת. This word is, oddly enough, translated differently by many commentaries. 

Ibn Ezra: animals that become pregnant. They are called עלות because the males go on (על) them to impregnate 

Rashi: Nursing sheep (the mother) – based on the translation of Targum Yonatan 

Radak: nursing mothers, called עלות because the term עול sometimes references baby animals (see next one) 

Metzudat Zion: the baby animals themselves, based on the phrase עולל ויונק 

Malbim: The nursing mothers (based on Shmuel I 6:7) 

Rabbi Eliezer MiBalaganzi: The newborn (born today!) animals 

 Perhaps one can argue that it doesn’t really matter which animals God (or the shepherd) is leading. If leading the nursing mothers, their babies will follow them. If leading the newborn or baby animals, their mothers will not abandon them. In either case, the image is meant to simply be a demonstration of God’s love and how much He cares. 

And so the question is “How much does He care?” Perhaps Radak’s comment says it all. “The עלות, which are the mothers, will guide them slowly and won’t push them. So will God guide Israel out of the exile at their pace, taking care of every ill and broken person.” 

Radak goes on to quote his father who noted that the word describing the flock of the shepherd is עדרו, suggesting that the flock actually belongs to the shepherd himself, which makes him have a more vested interest in the wellbeing of the sheep than if he were being paid to watch someone else’s sheep. Certainly, by extension, the same could be said for the Almighty Who has a vested interest in the story of the people of Israel, in that He wants them to return home, at the time they are worthy to do so. 

The message Radak extrapolates is a timeless messages because it speaks to every generation. We can all try to experience the Churban and feel what the absence of the Temple means to us through the motions we go through on Tisha B’Av. But in the end, we have no frame of reference beyond images from the Torah, books of the Prophets, Talmudic tales, and perhaps even artistic renderings. Even with our daily prayers asking for a return to Yerushalayim of old with God dwelling in the midst of the rebuilt Temple, there may be some people who are not quite ready for it to return. 

But everyone can relate to being sick. We all know people who have been broken in one form or another. There is no ignoring the news story that doesn’t seem to go away from every media outlet we may turn to. 

As we pray for our own health and that of our loved ones, friends, and humanity, may we find comfort in knowing that while God made a world in which illness has its place, the role He plays is in helping us through it when He sees us as having been through enough, and when we have achieved what we need to achieve to move forward. 

The opening words of that verse (40:11) is reminiscent of the next Biblical holiday on our calendar - כְּרֹעֶה֙ , עֶדְר֣וֹ יִרְעֶ֔ה בִּזְרֹעוֹ֙, “like the shepherd who counts his flock” of which we speak on the High Holidays. This is, of course, a reminder that Rosh Hashana is six weeks away. But it is also a reminder of how we have always viewed God’s role in His relationship with us. 

Every generation has its own challenges and crises. As we begin our way through the weeks of comfort, hopefully we can indeed tap into Yeshayahu’s words and continue to find messages that speak to us, in the effort of our being consoled over our own difficult experiences, including most recent, less recent, and the ones we’ve been mourning for generations.

Lacking Nothing - A Path to Life Success

Parshat Devarim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Towards the beginning of Devarim Chapter 2 we read of the ways in which the Israelites were instructed to relate to Eisav’s descendants – their cousins! You are not to enter their land, you are not to take any food from them. You may purchase food and water from them. But Mt Seir is theirs!, so don’t even think about conquering that land for yourselves. 

 In this context, Moshe further recounts how “God has blessed you in all that you do, knowing your journey through this vast wilderness. These 40 years God has been with you, you have lacked nothing.” (2:7) 

On a simple level, Moshe is certainly referencing the fact that the clothes and shoes of the Israelites didn’t wear out (Devarim 29:4), and how there was an endless supply of manna and water, as well as meat available and accessible – whether from the birds God sent their way, or the animals that traveled with the people through their sojourn in the wilderness. 

Hadar Zekenim notes that “you had the means to purchase whatever you needed” along the way. 

Owing to the fact that we always read this parsha during the Nine Days, and specifically on the Shabbos before Tisha B’Av, the Chassidic masters would read into this statement a greater message regarding the relationship of God and the Jewish people. The Kozhnitzer Maggid would note that the wilderness is a metaphor for living through dark times, and that the verse is showing that even in such dark times as the days leading up to Tisha B’Av, God is with us. If He could lead our ancestors through the wilderness, through places that no humans walked, or could certainly survive for 40 years, He can be with us through this time as well. 

The Slonimer Rebbe took this a step further suggesting that any travail a Jew goes through should be looked at through the lens of comparing it to 40 years in the wilderness. Through believing that God is with you, one should easily come to the realization that you therefore lack nothing. 

The Apte Rebbe (also known as the “Ohaiv Yisrael” per the title of his book) quoted a Midrash that “There wasn’t a holiday in Israel like the day the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed.” 

אוהב ישראל דברים שבת חזון 

י"ל אשר שבת חזון הוא יותר גדול במעלה מכל שבתות השנה. על דרך שנשאלתי פעם אחת לבאר המדרש דאיתא שם לא היה יום מועד לישראל כיום שנחרב בית המקדש עד כאן והוא פלא. וכבר עמד בזה בעל המחבר משנה למלך בספרו הטהור פרשת דרכים עיין שם. אמנם בשום שכל והערת לב. יש לומר בזה על דרך מאמר חכמינו ז"ל (יבמות סב ב) חייב אדם לפקוד את אשתו בשעה שיוצא לדרך. והמשכיל יבין. דוגמא לזה תמצא בפרשת ויגש על פסוק (בראשית מו, א) ויסע ישראל וכל אשר לו גו' יעויין שם ובפרט כשחל יום טי"ת באב בשבת והבן היטב: 

He quotes R Yehuda Roseannes (author of the Mishneh L’Melekh on the Rambam) who speaks of this topic in his book “Parshas Derachim.” While I could not find the exact quote there, what might be the reference he makes is to the passage on Parshat Shmini (can be found on page ק here: https://hebrewbooks.org/48331) in which the author describes how Moshe could not build the Beis HaMikdash because then it could not be destroyed (an idea found in many places). But the idea that the Beis Hamikdash could be destroyed is what guaranteed that the generation that died in the wilderness would have a chance to enter the land at the time of the Final Redemption. This relates to the verse we are familiar with from the first paragraph of Kabbalas Shabbos (Tehillim 95) 

10Forty years I quarreled with a generation, and I said, "They are a people of erring hearts and they did not know My ways." 11For which reason I swore in My wrath, that they would not enter My resting place.

יאַרְבָּעִ֚ים שָׁנָ֨ה | אָ֘ק֚וּט בְּד֗וֹר וָֽאֹמַ֗ר עַ֚ם תֹּעֵ֣י לֵבָ֣ב הֵ֑ם וְ֜הֵ֗ם לֹא־יָֽדְע֥וּ דְרָכָֽי: יאאֲשֶׁר־נִשְׁבַּ֥עְתִּי בְאַפִּ֑י אִם־יְ֜בֹא֗וּן אֶל־מְנֽוּחָתִֽי:

This passage indicates that the generation which died in the wilderness may not have been ever welcome to come into the land, even in some era of a Final Redemption, had there not been an overturning of their judgment. 

In this light, the Apte Rebbe seems to be suggesting that the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash overturned this thought in Tehillim, and was therefore one of the most noteworthy מועדים. The additional comment by the Apte Rebbe, about the moment of departure between husband and wife, can perhaps be understood in this light as well: before parting ways through an exile, God made it clear through the destruction of the house and not the people that the relationship would remain intact despite the separation of time and distance. 

The Slonimer Rebbe took the Apte Rebbe’s teaching and explained it as a demarcation of the relationship between God and Israel as being parallel to that of a parent and children. Were Israel simply a nation “chosen” by God, God could decide to reject them and choose another people, just as any king can find a different people over which to rule. But, just as one does not reject one’s children no matter how far they may stray, in designating Israel as His children – through destroying their building rather than destroying them – God demonstrated that they were not to be rejected no matter what the future would bring. 

Furthermore, the fact that the verse says יָדַ֣ע לֶכְתְּךָ֔ אֶת־הַמִּדְבָּ֥ר הַגָּדֹ֖ל הַזֶּ֑ה - that God has known your journey in this wilderness – is a further hint to both the connection spoken of by the Slonimer Rebbe as well as the one hinted to by the Apte Rebbe. ידיעה, knowledge, in the Biblical sense, references a very deep and intimate connection. In the case of God and the Jewish people, that intimacy spans time, place, space, distance, sin, error, rejection, exile. 

The Slonimer Rebbe concludes his essay right where he began. If you have God on your side, through all the challenges and darkness you face in life, you will find in the end that you never lacked for anything. 

May this feeling be one we come to appreciate through all the challenges that life throws our way – not only in the lead-in to Tisha B’Av, but in all we experience, may we always feel that because God is with us, everything will be OK. 

לא אירא רע כי אתה עמדי

A Nine Days Message?

 Parshat Matos-Masei

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The source for our need to kasher (kosherize) and toivel (immerse in a mikveh) pots for cooking is the tale of the war with Midian, as appears in our parsha (31:21-24). In the book Shaar-Bas-Rabim, the author notes the question of Ramban – why was there a rule to kasher these items in the context of this war, but not in the context of the previous wars with the Emorite kings, Sichon King of Cheshbon, and Og King of Bashan? 

Shaar-Bas-Rabim answers the question through looking at the concept of kashering as a metaphor for other kinds of purging. Halakhically, the way one kashers a metal pot that has been used for non-kosher, or has been accidentally used for dairy (if a meat pot) or for meat (if a dairy pot) is usually to clean it thoroughly, then wait at least 24 hours, then burn out the absorbed flavors through the same method used to have them absorb into the pot. An additional method for removing the absorbed flavors is through boiling bleach or ammonia in the pot (noten ta’am lifgam), thereby rendering any absorbed flavors as having been neutralized. (Wash thoroughly and boil again with water afterwards to neutralize that agent!) 

The metaphor of kashering/purging can be implied from the word utilized in Elazar’s depiction of the rules of kashering – when he spoke to those who were הבאים למלחמה – those coming “to” war after the war was already over. The “war” was a personal one – what kind of credit will you be taking for the success in the battlefield? This is the war “to which” they were coming – the war against the yetzer hara, the inclination that tries to convince them that they are responsible for their own successes. 

In many examples in the Torah and books of Navi, it is not always numbers alone which are the decisive factor in any battle. In fact, sometimes it is the underwhelming number who bring about a victory or a salvation. Sometimes it is the merit of the righteous who go out to battle which brings about a salvation or victory. 

The difference between the battles with Sichon and Og v. the battle with Midian is that in the former battles the entire nation went to fight against, while against Midian it was a select group of 12,000, 1,000 soldiers per tribe (31:5). In the former, they could look at their sheer numbers and explain away their victory as not having been something they achieved because of any special merit. But after the battle with Midian, they simply couldn’t say that. Firstly their numbers were tiny, and secondly the selective nature of who went out to fight would seem to indicate they were chosen for their merits as well. 

When the entire nation goes out to war, the righteous and the not-as-righteous, no one can argue that it is the merit of any part of the nation that brought a salvation because all people were included in the battle. 

In the battle with Midian, however, there is a concern that those elite few will have their victory get to their head. The rules of purging forbidden flavors from the captured pots was thus a metaphor for these soldiers to purge such thoughts from their minds, to remember that while their success in the battlefield is partly on account of their merits, that should not get them thinking that it is ALL in their merits. “Purge such thoughts,” Elazar was telling them. “Purify the heart, cleanse it from anything that might get you to forget God’s role in all of this.” 

On the one hand, perhaps this notion can serve as a source of encouragement for us, that even when we have question as to the need to kasher something that is brand new (which is accomplished by dipping it briefly in a mikveh) our action is meant to remind us that we too need a cleansing, that we too need to be purified on a regular basis through doing an action that demonstrates our awareness of God’s presence in our lives. 

On the other hand, it could serve as a reminder that even when we are righteous, we constantly have a battle with the yetzer hara who tries to destroy us. 

Rabbi Aharon Leib Shteinman was once asked, “You moved around studying in different yeshivas in your formative years. Who did you consider to be your Rebbe Muvhak (your main teacher)?” His answer was, “My main rebbe is the yetzer hara. I am still trying to not listen to what he teaches me.” 

When we consider the statement that “any generation that does not live to see the rebuilding of the Temple is as if they’ve witnessed its destruction” we must always ask ourselves why we do not merit? What are we, the collective Jewish people, still doing wrong? 

Like the full nation that went out to war against Sichon and Og, perhaps our collective hearts are not yet pure enough to be worthy to see the final redemption. Perhaps seeing this kashering of pots as the metaphor we need for purging evil inclinations and impurity from our hearts is a good step towards reaching our communal goals that will help us achieve redemption.

Free to Serve God – a Nod to Liberty and Independence

Weekend of July 4th (coinciding with Parshat Pinchas)

by Rabbi Avi Billet

On this July 4th weekend, it is appropriate to consider what the Declaration of Independence meant for the United States, and what it came to mean for the world. One of the most-oft quoted lines from that document is “We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.” 

These Rights are completely in consonance with Judaism, as we have the exhortation to choose Life (ובחרת בחיים), to embrace Liberty (בחירה חפשית – within reasonable societal parameters), and to serve God with joy (עבדו את ה' בשמחה, and rebuke comes תחת אשר לא עבדת את ה' א-לקיך בשמחה). Of course the “Pursuit of Happiness” can be interpreted in different ways, but it can also be subsumed under Life and Liberty – if we have those two, then the pursuit of Happiness is open to us as well. 

The Braisa in Avos (6:2) says “שאין לך בן חורין אלא מי שעוסק בתלמוד תורה.” Only one who delves into Torah study is truly free. In Meseches Kala Rabasi (5:3) the question is asked how can this be so? After all, one who studies Torah is rewarded! If one is paid for what one is doing, one is not free - one is beholden to the customer, to the consumer, or to the boss who dictates whatever is the job at hand. Even the person who works alone and makes one's own hours still needs to satisfy those who are being serviced and who provide the income the person needs.

Perhaps an answer, also from Avos, is the teaching of Antigonos of Socho (1:3), when it comes to Torah study and mitzvos fulfillment: “Do not be like a person who works in order to receive a reward from the Master. Rather be as one who works for no reward, and simply Fear Heaven.” If we’re not getting paid, we are not hired or owned by anyone, we are truly free. A volunteer may walk away at any time, though those who voluntarily choose God are free in their decision making. 

A related teaching of liberty comes in the context of understanding the song of Parshat Chukas - ממתנה נחליאל ומנחליאל במות – as recording in Tanna D’bei Eliyahu Zuta. There it says that the only person who is free is the one over whom the angel of death has no dominion. While this might be true in the realm of thought, in the realm of reality, find a person who will not die one day! 

So we turn to Rabbi Moshe Alshikh on Koheles (10:16) who writes the following: 

“It is known that when one is beholden to his evil inclination, he is like a slave who serves. But when one is beholden to his good inclination and does his will, he is actually called a בן חורין and not one who is enslaved. There is none as free as the person who involves himself with Torah and Mitzvos, because the one who follows his good inclination is in fact doing the will of his Creator. A human is a tiny portion of God – which makes him his own servant (he works for himself) which is the ultimate definition of freedom.” 

In essence, freedom is defined by Alshikh as being free of the shackles of the Yetzer Hara (Evil Inclination) (opening comment on Kohelet 10:17). 

Kli Yakar on Mishpatim 21:7 hones in on this concept through his analysis of the Eved Ivri (the Hebrew slave/indentured servant), noting that freedom for people in the nations of the world comes when they can finally do what they want. A slave goes “free” if he is injured by his master. Or, perhaps we can make that argument more contemporary, that a worker is “free” when he retires and no longer needs his boss to pay him (and when his boss can no longer make demands). But the Jew who is involved in Torah says “I choose my master.” The Jew who is involved in Torah says “I work until I have what I need, and then I choose to involve myself with Torah.” The choice to do this, to feed the cravings of the soul – to engage in Torah study and involve oneself in the performance of mitzvos – is the ultimate form of freedom. The only thing dictating what I do are the leanings of my own soul, which allows me to do what I want to do within a system of my choosing. 

To summarize, we have three ideas of freedom 

1. One who involves oneself in Torah 

2. One who is free from the dominion of the angel of death 

3. One who is free from the ruling power of the evil inclination 

The Kli Yakar’s teaching helps us understand that all of this really means that freedom is the right to choose. Understanding that that phrase has been co-opted (in some ways) for political means, the idea of choosing doesn’t mean anarchy. Even the founders of this nation noted “That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed…” 

There need to be rules. And the rules will often allow much freedom until the point of harming someone else and impinging on someone else’s right to life, liberty, and pursuing happiness. The rules which overstep what should be their own limitations are rules which should never be made in the first place. 

One of my drama teachers taught us his understanding of what freedom of expression looks like on stage, in a method he channeled from a certain outlook on what halakha is supposed to mean. “If you want to give a cow freedom, put a fence around the meadow.” What is being articulated is that there needs to be a framework in which one lives out one’s freedom, but within that framework, there is much freedom as to how one goes about one’s existence. [A character in a theatrical production is given lines, blocking (movement), and the size and limitations of the stage. How the lines are read and delivered, how the body moves, the cadence of the story telling – all of that changes per each person’s interpretations – giving each performer much freedom, while still working with other people.] 

What about being free from the dominion of the angel of death? One could argue that we aren’t truly free in that sense since we know he is always lurking. But how much do we let that fear run and control our lives? There’s a reason why those who are called “free spirits” are referred to in that way – they don’t let the angel of death define for them what risks are not worth taking and how they will choose to LIVE the most IMPASSIONED life. Indeed if we live with the philosophy that we need to look over our shoulder because the angel of death is waiting to pounce, we aren’t truly living. 

What about people who do not have the Torah? Aren’t they even more free? Can’t they eat in any restaurant? Go to any venue of entertainment? Gamble and drink freely? Waste as much time as possible and not view it as a waste of time? 

Rabbi Zev Leff explained – similar to the Alshikh’s teaching above – that anyone who has a habit or vice which is not good for them is actually enslaved to the Yetzer Hara. To use Rabbi Leff’s example, the smoker is enslaved to the cigarette. The drinker is enslaved by the alcohol. The gambler is enslaved by the thrill of the gamble. The sports fan is enslaved by a game being played by other people. The consumer is enslaved by marketing. Even the restaurant aficionado, even if making good eating choices, is perhaps enslaved by the idea of eating new kinds of food very often. The person who works and works and works without making time for Torah is enslaved by work and money. 

In a way many or most of us are enslaved by smartphones, televisions, or computers (depending on how we use them), as they help us waste a tremendous amount of time, and for what end? 

How is Torah and Mitzvos a defining place for liberty? Quoting Berachos 17a, Rabbi Leff suggested: גלוי וידוע לפניך שרצוננו לעשות רצונך – “It is known before You, that our desire is to fulfill Your will.” The Jew’s free will and natural impulse is to fulfill God’s will. But as the Gemara says, what gets in the way is the שאר שבעיסה, which literally means the rising agent in the dough, but figuratively refers to the Yetzer Hara, the inclination that distracts us from our fundamental desire – to fulfill God’s will. 

We appreciate the freedoms we have to make our own choices. We choose to serve God and to be good and honest citizens of this great country. May we continue to be blessed to practice our faith in peace and to be able to thrive on this most welcoming nation that gave the Jewish people a safe haven from those who challenged our desire to be free under the service of God throughout our history.