The Sin of Doing One Mitzvah

Parshat VAYIKRa

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There’s a strange phrase that repeats itself several times in the parsha. “If a person sins… and does one of the commandments of God that one is [instructed] not to do” then a consequence follows. The consequence might be elaborated upon over several verses, or, as in the case, of 4:27, the consequence is preceded by the word, “v’ashem,” which means “and he is guilty.”

 Wouldn’t the verse make more sense if it said “If a person sins and violates a commandment…” or just leave it at “If a person sins…” and then list the consequence? It almost sounds like the Torah is saying that if a person sins through doing a mitzvah, then there is a consequence! How could a person sin through doing a mitzvah?!

 Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev was known to look at the good of every Jew. One tale finds Reb Levi Yitzchak encountering a Jew who was smoking on Shabbos. The sinner refuted each benefit the rabbi ascribed to him. “You probably didn’t know it was Shabbos.” The man knew. “You probably didn’t know smoking is prohibited on Shabbos.” The man knew. “You must be smoking for health reasons.” No – that’s not the case.

 Reb Levi Yitzchak turned heavenward and said, “Even when your children commit sins, they tell the truth!”

 And yet, Reb Levi Yitzchak did not hold back in criticizing the Jew who is satisfied with a minimal connection with God. In his Kedushas Levi, Reb Levi Yitzchak looked at our verse in question and creatively explained the way the Torah depicts the sin of the individual. The more a person sincerely serves God, the more the person appreciates the tremendous disparity that exists between the great and Almighty God and the tiny human being.

 But, as in our verse, when a person does one mitzvah and thinks this is an adequate form of serving God, even the one mitzvah is inconsequential. To put it more succinctly – there are mitzvot which people categorize as mitzvot “that I don’t do.” I have the mitzvot that I do, the ones I am comfortable with, the ones that work for me. But there are mitzvot that fall out of my comfort zone, so I never do them. Or, perhaps, I may do it once in a while.

 Reb Levi Yitzchak said that the sin is not the doing of the mitzvah – though he questions whether the occasional trek into mitzvah-doing is worth anything, as opposed to a total commitment to mitzvoth. The sin is in having the attitude that “I have mitzvot that I don’t do” while still feeling that this incompleteness is a proper form of serving God.

 Reb Levi Yitzchak lived in a different time. And while I don’t think his entire message is apropos today – it is certainly not applicable to Jews who know very little about Judaism – there is much introspection demanded of Jews who do know better, who claim to believe in God and who live observant lifestyles, but who opt out of certain mitzvot because “I don’t do those” or who focus on one mitzvah that does work (while ignoring many others) who still think, “I am serving God properly as a Jew.”

 We live in a cynical society where the loudest people are anti-religion. Ironically, the religious population of the United States of America is one of the highest percentages in the world. For people who identify as religious Jews, it behooves us to never be satisfied with our personal status quo, and to continue to challenge ourselves to take more obligations upon ourselves, and to humbly add to our service of God, as we become increasingly aware of that disparity between ourselves and our Creator.
The sin Reb Levi Yitzchak reads into this verse is a sin of arrogance, a sin of minimal obligation and responsibility, and a sin of checking out of mitzvot based on external criteria.

 Let us embrace our responsibilities and obligations, let us be humble, and let us increasingly get closer to God so that the verses in question need not apply to our own Jewish experiences.

Torah Teaches Not to Sin

I wrote this at around the time the rockets began flying and Israel started its retalliation - which I hope turns to an annihilation of Hamas' infrastructure, if not the entire entity. The message is still important - the difference between us and them

Parshat Pinchas                

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Parshat Pinchas contains the Maftir readings for all of the Biblical holidays. Every holiday had a specific set of korbanot (offerings) that were brought in its honor. A similarity running across all of the holidays is a single goat which was brought as a “chatat” (sin offering) to atone for the sins of the people.

                

However, when it comes to the holiday of Shavuot, the Torah does not label the goat as a “chatat.” That word is missing from the description, when it says, “A single goat, to atone for you.” (28:30)

                

The Minchat Shai notes that the way the goat is presented here is as a “s’ir izim” and not with a vov to say “u’s’ir izim.” As only Yom Kippur has a similar formulation (every other holiday says “u’s’ir” – AND a goat), he suggests that Yom Kippur and Shavuot have in common that they are days when the Torah was given. The Tablets were finally presented to the people on Yom Kippur, and the contents of the Tablets were declared to the people on Shavuot. In order to contradict the Sadducees who suggested the Torah was not given on Shavuot, the Torah made the S’ir to S’ir comparison to make it clear that Shavuot is a day when the Torah was given.

                

A number of commentaries point to the Yerushalmi in Rosh Hashana 4:8 which explains the phenomenon as follows: Rabbi Mesharshia explained that the “chatat” not being mentioned in the context of Atzeret (Shavuot) was God’s way of saying to Israel, “Since you accepted the yoke of My Torah, I am considering you as if you never sinned [and therefore don’t need a “sin offering.”]”  

                

This, concludes the Torah Temimah, is the proof that the Torah was actually given on the same date as Shavuot.

                

Of course, in Mishpatim (chapter 24, note 36), the Torah Temimah explains that Shavuot is on the 50^th day of the Omer – which can either fall on the 5^th, 6^th, or 7^th of Sivan. (Rosh Hashana 6b) This is why when we describe the holiday, we call it “zman matan torateinu” (the time period of the giving of the Torah) and not “yom matan torateinu” (the actual day of the giving of the Torah).

                

Rashi notes in Shmot 19:1 and Devarim 26:16 that we must view the Torah as if it was given every day. Pinning the giving of the Torah to a single day, in a sense, cheapens its value – makes it as if it is to be celebrated on an anniversary, as opposed to throughout the year.

                

It is fascinating that the Torah Temimah would suggest that the missing word “Chatat” in the description of the goat offering proves that Shavuot and the giving of the Torah coincided – even as he points to his own commentary in Shmot which suggests that it’s not an exact science.

                

In truth – the matter could be one of simple semantics. The Torah may have been given on Shavuot, but since the date of Shavuot (Biblically speaking) is not always the same date (could be 5, 6, or 7 Sivan), if we celebrate Shavuot as the day rather than a specific date as the day of the giving of the Torah, then everyone is right.

                

Because the truth is that whether a missing vov proves the point (Minchat Shai) or the missing word “chatat” proves the point doesn’t matter. The point is that we have the Torah. The anniversary of its giving is perhaps noteworthy, but to a large degree it is irrelevant.

                

When news came that arrests were made over the murder of an Arab teen after the deaths of Gilad, Eyal and Naftali became known, and that the initial suspects are Jews, my sister told me she was going to attend a “Lo Tirzach” (Thou Shalt not Murder) Rally in Israel. It was postponed, ironically, because of rockets out of the Gaza Strip.

                

A life governed by the Torah’s teachings is one in which the deliberate sin has no place. We are all human, and we make mistakes. But there is a major difference between human failure and human error and descending to depths that are completely antithetical to the Torah’s teachings. [The irony of Pinchas being a vigilante is not lost, but his circumstance was VERY different.]

                

I personally have no sympathy for terrorists and murderers, and I have a very different mindset than the State of Israel generally has about how to deal with those who have Jewish blood on their hands. But if it turns out that those who murdered an Arab teenager were Jews, and that they did it because Arabs murdered Jewish teens (or whatever reason), they were operating under a Hammurabi Code, and not under a Torah code.

                

We rally for our People when our People are in need. And we must also rally for our true beliefs, distancing ourselves from those who conduct themselves in a manner that is antithetical to the Torah’s teachings.

               

If Shavuot’s goat offering was not called a “chatat” because the giving of the Torah made the people sinless, then it is the Torah’s teachings which should always guide us in being sinless. 

Sincere Apologies Only, Please

This can also be read in the Jewish Star

Parshat Balak

One of the most difficult things for people to say is “I was wrong.” It is even harder to say, and really mean, “I have sinned.” Our religion is not one with anonymous confessions to a voice behind a wall. Generally, our confessions are to G-d, though there are times when we might admit to humans either that we have wronged them or have sinned to G-d.

There is something cleansing about owning up to human beings and to admitting our errors. Suffering embarrassment or humiliation under the judgmental eyes of our peers helps us come to grips with what we’ve done and it helps us take real steps to improve our behavior and not return to our sinning ways.

Perhaps it is admirable that Bilaam admits to an angel “I have sinned” (22:34), if his intentions were honorable. An overview of Biblical examples of people admitting sins may help us understand Bilaam’s likely motivation.

During both the Barad (hail) and Arbeh (locusts) plagues, Pharoh admits he sinned through not letting the Israelites out of bondage (Shmot 9:27, 10:16). After a decimating loss on the battlefield, Achan admits to Yehoshua that he stole from the consecrated booty (Yehoshua 7:20). After much back and forth with his teacher and mentor the prophet Shmuel, King Saul admits he sinned before the battle with Amalek by listening to the people instead of Shmuel (Shmuel I 15:24, 25, 30). The last time they encounter one another, Saul also admits to David that he sinned by accusing David of treason (Shmuel I 26:21). After the prophet Natan accuses David of sinning with Batsheva and having her husband killed, David quickly admits his sin, without excuses (Shmuel II 12:13). Fearful that he will be executed by David, Shimi ben Gera admits to having wronged the king (Shmuel II 19:21).

On a collective front, sometimes a large group of people sin and admit to their wrongdoings.

In Bamidbar 14:40, after the decree that the Israelites will spend the next 40 years in the desert and not live to see the Promised Land, the nation admits to Moshe that they had sinned when listening to the spies. The Israelites also made a similar admission in last week’s parsha (21:7) when the snakes wreaked havoc and killed a part of the population.

We see similar admission in Shoftim 10:10 and Shmuel I 7:6, 12:10 when the people are confronted with evidence of their errors.

In discussing our protagonist, Bilaam, we can see the positive sides of admitting, “I have sinned.” On the other hand, we can also bring much criticism to the table in assessing Bilaam’s admission of guilt.

We don’t even know why he said he sinned other than his telling the angel, “I didn’t know you were there.” Was his sin that he went to curse the Israelites? That he hit his donkey? That he didn’t stop when the angel appeared (unbeknownst to him) in the path?

There is a running theme in these admissions of guilt. In just about every case, the individual admits to a fault because he has a virtual gun to his head. Pharoh is feeling the pain of plagues, the nation (in the aftermath of the spies) see themselves dying off in the desert or see snakes killing people; Shimi ben Gera fears for his life.

Others admit when the evidence is stacked against them: Achan’s theft is uncovered through a divine lottery. Kings Saul and David are confronted by prophets. King Saul’s admissions are a topic of a larger discussion of his personality, but the biggest critique is that even he did not admit immediately (as King David did when confronted with evidence) that he had erred and sinned against God.

Bilaam clearly fits into the former category — he only admits to a sin (though he does not specify what the sin is) when he notices an angel wielding a sword over his head. It is therefore fitting that he embarrasses himself in telling the donkey “Had I a sword in my hand I’d kill you,” for unlike sincere individuals who admit to sins, Bilaam only apologized when he felt himself in mortal danger.

The really smart and the truly devout can recognize their sins on their own, admit them, correct their behavior, and move on with their lives.

Others say things like “I deeply regret my comments…They do not reflect my heart-felt belief that peace will come to the Middle East…” and expect people to buy their half non-apology. Pharoh was not believed and neither was Bilaam. It did not take long for both of them to die in battles against the Jews (Midrash about Pharoh being saved notwithstanding), when their true beliefs led them headfirst into violent confrontation.

While nearly 90-year-old anti-Semites are not likely to take up arms in battle, we pray that they and their ilk be viewed in the world the same way Pharoh and Bilaam were to the Jewish people: insincere non-apologists who have no future because everyone sees through their false apologetic front.