7 Days To Reflect on Life

Parshat Tazria

by Rabbi Avi Billet

A simple reading of the Gemara in Arakhin 16a informs us that tzaraat, a spiritual disease with a physical manifestation that is definitely not “leprosy,” could come upon a person for one of seven sins: lashon hora (slander and gossip), murder, swearing in vain, immorality, haughtiness, theft, and stinginess.

            

Raise your hand if you might get tzaraat if such a disease were extant today. (We can all put our hands down now)

            

It’s sad that most people focus only on Lashon Hara, because the reality is that even people who are not gossipers are not immune to the other causes of tzaraat. Everyone has a yetzer hara (evil inclination) and everyone makes mistakes. While murder is presumably most uncommon, the rest of the seven are not that far fetched for many people, in one form or another.

            

In its time, getting tzaraat would trigger being sent out of the camp of Israel, while they traveled in the wilderness, and outside of town once settled in the land, for the duration of a week. This week-long exile, which was sometimes extended for a week (or two!), was meant to give the person pause, to think, to reflect on which sin caused the affliction and how the person could make different choices for the future.

            

Hopefully, the tzaraat was meant to give the exiled a week to rethink choices and make a commitment to a different future – one of ahavat yisrael (loving one’s fellow Jew), and ahavat habriyot (loving one’s fellow Man). The actions which lead to tzaraat have a common theme that the violator sees himself/herself as being better than others, or above the law. The change would shift a person's entire essence to being a top-of-the-line mentsch. 

            

There isn’t much to say about tzaraat that does not venture beyond the theoretical and hypothetical, simply because it is not our reality today. But we do have week-long excursions that are not brought on by sins which may nonetheless give us pause to reflect and to think about our lives and what is most important to us. (Disclaimer:) The only comparison to be taken here is the length of time the people in question are removed from “normal life.”

            

One week long venture is a holiday such as the upcoming Pesach. Another 7-day escape is the vacation. Sometimes the holiday and the vacation are combined. A third 7-day removal from the day-to-day norm is when someone dies and the family sits for the mourning period of “shiva.”

            

On holidays and on vacations, and particularly when they are combined, whether people go to a hotel, a different state, or just don’t go to work, the test of “who we are and what we stand for and believe” is brought to the fore. How do we conduct ourselves? How do we portray ourselves? How do we spend the time we don’t normally have? Are we unaccountably lazy? Do we only spend the time doing fun things? Where is the dedication to Torah and Tefillah (prayer)? Do others see us as gluttonous? Or gaudy? Do we show off? 

            

We must reflect, think, and look at ourselves very introspectively and try to comprehend how others see us. And we must also hold ourselves accountable for how we use our time. It is OK to enjoy a vacation and to spend quality family time having fun. But a Jew is a Jew 24/7, not just when life is normal, kids are in school, and there’s a daily commute to work. The goal is to be mekadesh shem shamayim (to sanctify God's name) at every turn.

            

This is why those who are committed to davening and daf yomi have an easier time because they are driven to keep it up even when life’s routine is interrupted.

Shiva is a very different kind of escape. And the reflection is surreal. Everyone experiences shiva differently, and since the deceased’s age and stage of life is different in every home, the feeling in every shiva home is different as well.

            

Shiva is not just a reflective time for the mourners. It is also for the visitors to think about life and to remember the deceased and to focus on why mourners mourn and what the role of the “Menachamim” – the consolers – is supposed to be.

            

Too many people come to shiva homes for personal reasons instead of to be there for the mourners. Too many people talk about nonsense when conversations, if there should even be conversations, are supposed to be directed by the mourner, while the consoler’s job is to keep it focused on the deeds of the deceased, to help the mourner in such a personal reflection.

            

It should go without saying, but too many well-meaning people say the dumbest or most regrettable things during their shiva visits. How the person died is not as relevant as how the person lived. The details of the final moments are not as important as the details of the legacy left behind, or in the event of the tragic death of a young person, the absolute sadness and profound loss felt by those who are mourning. In this latter case, the mourners need to know they have friends who care about them. They don’t need to know whether life will ever be the same or that “I know how you feel.” (We don’t.)

            

Every 7-day escape is indeed a time to reflect and contemplate who we are, what we believe, what we stand for and what is most important to us. Hopefully we can use the time well and come out of the experience with a new commitment to be more aware, more sensitive, more caring, and more humble in the way we present ourselves and the way we relate to others.

           

Shavuot: Why Stay Up? Or Not...

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There is a widespread custom to stay up on Shavuot evening learning Torah. Obvious, you'll say, but the truth is that the custom is mostly kabbalistic in nature. It is most likely that the custom was not practiced outside of kabbalistic circles until the 17^th centuries when certain kabbalistic practices somehow went mainstream.

That kabbalistic practices "went mainstream" does not suggest the practices are halakhic in nature – just that they were picked up by a more general population.

One of the reasons given for staying up all night on Shavuot eve is to fix the "mistake" made by those who were waiting in anticipation at the bottom of a mountain, and fell asleep – only to come late to experience Revelation (Shir HaShirim Raba 1:2). As the Kabbalists viewed the holiday of Shavuot as "Zman Matan Torateinu" (a notion which has barely any support in the Torah's account of this agriculturally-focused holiday - though it is mentioned in the Talmud), the dedication to Torah on this date was meant to look like a rededication of our collective commitment to the Torah itself, and our hopes that we could correct the error made by our ancestors at that fateful moment.

However, there are apparently a number of days that contain such a practice of staying up all night. And interestingly enough, they all carry with them another recommended practice – the separation of husbands and wives.

Before getting all upset, it is important to note the words of the Aruch HaShulchan (OC 240), who wrote, "it is only an extremely pious custom (minhag chasidut) to avoid relations on the first night of Pesach, Shavuot, on Shmini Atzeret, and on Rosh Hashana."

The Mishneh Brurah qualifies this ruling similarly as for those "who are extremely God-fearing" (maleh b'yirah). Otherwise one should always bear in mind that the only mandated separation periods are Yom Kippur evening, Tisha B'Av evening, during a niddah period, and when either he or she is in the mourning period of shiva.

Other evenings that are mentioned in halakhic works (to stay up learning, that is) are Hoshana Rabba (Rama OC 664), the 7^th night of Pesach (see Birkei Yosef 240), and the Kohen Gadol on the evening of Yom Kippur. It is interesting to note that one approach associated with the 7^th night of Pesach ascribes the practice to the phrase "V'lo karav zeh el zeh kol halaylah" (Shmot 14:20), which means "This did not come close to this all night" – seemingly referring to the camps of the Israelites and Egyptians that stood on opposite sides of a pillar of fire during the evening in which the sea was splitting.

The rabbis would not let a verse like that go to waste, and suggested that "This not coming close to this" refers to husbands and wives. This would make it a custom to have husbands and wives separate on the 7^th night of Pesach. And of course, once separate, one may as well learn Torah.

The separation in preparation for Shavuot is a little more palatable. After all, God mandated that husbands and wives have a three-day separation in advance of Revelation. (Shmot 19:15) While I do not believe such an act is necessary beyond that one-time in the wilderness, if people want to commemorate such a separation in advance of Shavuot, I guess they are entitled to do as they please.

The bottom line is that it seems the staying up learning idea is often directly correlated to a husband and wife separation.

The Magen Avraham describes what is meant to be the scholars pursuit during the week – namely to study Torah at night.

Not all of us have the luxury to make "Toirahseinu Umanoseinu" – the Torah our regular pursuit. But we do have a charge to study it and learn from it at whatever turn.

I don't know for sure which idea came first – separation from spouses or the idea to learn all night. But a message that could be taken is "when you are looking for some way to spend your time, because other options are taken away from you, pursue the Torah and the study of Torah." That is certainly a lesson to take to the bank all year long - not just Shavuot night.

Whether one does stay up learning or one goes to sleep at the regular hour, may we be blessed to dedicate much of our Shavuot experiences to Torah learning.