How Mishpatim Keep us Grounded

Parshat Mishpatim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 While there is a debate as to whether the Mishpatim were taught before or after Moshe went up the mountain for 40 days, an easier point to make is that the Mishpatim are related thematically to the verses at the end of last week’s parsha, as indicated by the letter "ו" that opens our parsha: ואלה המשפטים…

 Rashi notes that the semichus (proximity) of the rules of the Mizbeach, laid out in the end of Parshas Yisro, are the lead in to Mishpatim to indicate that the source of the rule of law, the Sanhedrin, should be based next to the Mikdash, where the Mizbeach is. 

But Netziv takes the thematic connection deeper. The Ten Commandments began with אנכ ה אל-קיך אשר הוצאתיך מארץ מצרים. Taking us out of Egypt, a land of Tumah which could never achieve any level of Kedusha, makes for a clear distinction of why the Torah couldn’t be given in Egypt, and why Revelation couldn’t happen in Egypt. And once we’re in the realm of discussing holiness of the earth, it is appropriate to mention that the ideal Mizbeach is supposed to be made of אדמה. But not just any אדמה. It has to be אדמה that is capable of being used for Kedusha. Note that the קרבן פסח, brought in Egypt, wasn’t really a קרבן. It was slaughtered and then roasted over a fire – each person could have done it in their own yard – as the Mizbeach of Egypt is defined as two doorposts and a lintel. 

Netziv suggests the following chronology: Moshe was given the laws of Mishpatim. He taught them to Aharon and Chur thoroughly. Moshe went up the mountain, leaving Aharon and Chur in charge, armed with the knowledge to answer questions and deal with all the interpersonal issues raised in the Mishpatim listings. Revelation took place. Ten Commandments. After the Ten Commandments, which mentioned God’s having taken the people out of the Land of Egypt, God also mentions that a Mizbeach should be made out of earth. And once we’re talking about consecrated earth, the Torah then describes laws that are meant to elevate a people into a realm of Kedusha they could not achieve in Egypt. 

In a way, we can say that the interpersonal Mishpatim are meant to keep the people grounded, to see that there is a system of law, and that while there is freedom and a certain sense of personal autonomy, we are entering the realm of Naaseh v’Nishma which grounds us to a subservience to the Almighty which is certainly voluntary, but all of Bnei Yisrael voluntarily accepted at that time. 

 Another point to explore will be presented now in 3 ways. 

First: Quoting Rabbi Yishmael from the Mechilta, Rashi at the end of Yisro says: “R”Y said: Every time the word אם is used in the Torah it refers to some action the doing of which is optional, except in three instances. Here: ואם מזבח אבנים תעשה לי means “And when you make for Me an altar of stone, לא תבנה אתהן גזית, you shall not make it of cut stones,” for you are obligated to build an altar of stone, as it is said, (Devarim 27:6) “of whole stones you shall build [the Mizbeach for God]”. Similarly – and the following is from our parsha, (Shemos 22:24) אם כסף תלוה את עמי is obligatory and signifies: “when (אם) you lend My people money”, and not, “if you lend”, because it is said, (Devarim 15:8) “And you shall surely lend him.” Similarly, (Vayikra 2:14) ואם תקריב מנחת בכורים means “And when (ואם) you offer the meal-offering of first-fruits”, and not, “if you offer”… these instances of אם are not conditional, meaning “if”, but absolute, and that they are used in the sense of כאשר, “when” you do each action described…” 

Of course one could surely argue that fulfillment of all of these is voluntary in a translation of אם to mean “when you do” insofar as one is obeying the king. That is the approach Rashi is advocating – do because you obey. 

Maharal offers a second approach to this dedication to God, challenging Rashi, as he feels one should serve the Master because one wants to serve the Master, not because one is compelled to serve the Master. That is what true עבודה is – service – as opposed to שיעבוד, enslavement, which is anything but voluntary. 

 

You build a Mizbeach because you want to serve Hashem. 

You lend money because you want to help someone out. 

You bring the Minchas Bikkurim because you truly appreciate God’s hand in how things grow and so you are expressing gratitude because you want to express gratitude. 

Therefore, Maharal concludes, one should actually aim to fulfill these mitzvos “as if” they are voluntary, because if one does them because they are compulsory, one is actually not serving God properly. 

A third approach is from Rav Aharon Lichtenstein - that each of the mitzvos mentioned by Rabbi Yishmael is in some way not ideal. The "אם" reflects, not the “when you do the mitzvah” but rather the ambivalence about the situation: 

1. אם כסף תלוה – Helping someone with a loan is less preferred because a. the person is in a needy situation, and b. the loan makes the person indebted, which is far less than ideal for anyone 

2. מנחת ביכורים – R. Lichtenstein argued that it is a “defective” korban, as it comes from barley, with actual halakhic consequences – see רמב"ם הל' פסולי המוקדשין יד:ג. In other words, “If you have to bring the omer, even though it is not typical…” so do it in the manner prescribed. 

3. אם מזבח אבנים – Sacrifice must come from a place of humility, and thus a מזבח אדמה is most appropriate. However, “If in the long-term you must construct a stone מזבח…” be sure to put the setup in such a manner that modesty and humility are at the forefront. 

Therefore there must be a ramp, no cutting mechanism used to shape those stones. Humility must guide the order of bringing such offerings on that Mizbeach. 

In its time, the Mizbeach was used every day of the year. Aside from the daily offerings, it was mostly used throughout the year when individuals would bring their own required or voluntary Korbanos, depending on why they were bringing them. 

The Mizbeach’s busiest time of the year was the holidays, when people had the mitzvah of Aliyah L’regel, and as we read in Mishpatim, ולא יראו פני ריקם – to not come emptyhanded. Meshekh Chokhmah (Meir Simcha of Dvinsk) quotes the Gemara in Sukkah about how it was through humility that Israel would present themselves before the Almighty. This was Rav Lichtenstein’s point for the 3rd verse above. 

Based on a verse in Shir HaShirim מה יפו פעמיך בנעלים בת נדיב the Gemara quotes a pasuk in Tehillim נדיבי עמים נאספו עם אלהי אברהם (we say this chapter before Shofar blowing on RH), to say that when the nobles of the nations will gather to serve God, they will join the nation of the God of Avraham. Why the God of Avraham, and not Yitzchak and Yaakov? The Talmud answers that Avraham was the first convert to Monotheism. A גר is the model of humility when it comes to demonstrating submission to the Almighty, as his or her sincerity is subject to the scrutiny of a Bet Din, and the feeling conveyed is one we can all learn from - “These people are letting me join their people.” It’s a privilege to serve Hashem! 

That is what being an Eved Hashem is all about? 

The Gemara in Sukkah goes on to connect dots to the verse in Micha 6:8 - He has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord demands of you; but to do justice, to love loving-kindness, and to walk humbly with your God - as it remind us that acts of charity are more important than sacrifices, and that acts of kindness are more important than charity. 

And all of these, the Meiri on the Gemara explains, is to be done through the guiding principle of humility and humbleness. It means come before God with humility, go about one’s tzedakah-giving with humility, and do one’s acts of Gemilus Chasadim with humility. 

 

Giving details, he writes that some chasadim are done publicly – such as Hachnasas Kallah and burying the dead. Nevertheless, they should be done with humility. Certainly, then, tzedakah and divrei Torah, which are more private affairs, should be given over or done with humility. 

Didn’t the Talmud just tell us that Gemilus Chasadim (GMCH) is even greater than tzedakah! 

Meiri explains: Tzedakah is done with money – write a check and you’re done. Give some cash and you’re done. GMCH is done with one’s body and one’s pocketbook – lend things, help a guy out, roll up sleeves, etc. 

Tzedakah is aimed only to help the poor. 

GMCH helps the rich as well. Rejoicing with the bride and groom, doing a shiva visit, visiting the sick. 

Tzedakah only helps the living. 

GMCH helps the dead as well in all that we do at a funeral. 

The merits and benefits of Tzedakah are multiplied by the Gemilas Chesed which accompanies it. How far did I drive? How much did I cook or bake for that person? To give ready to eat food, as opposed to giving money which makes the needy person have to go out to buy, or to cook, in order to get that needed sustenance. 

With all of this – service of God, tzedakah, and Gemilus Chasadim, there really is one question that should never be asked. And that question is “What’s in it for me?” A. Because then it’s not coming from a place of humility. And B. Because then it’s no longer Avodah. It’s no longer Chesed. It becomes a transaction. A transaction means I’m not doing it because it’s right or because I want to do it. I’m doing it because of what I get out of it. 

Rav Lichtenstein said that sacrifice and service has to come from a place of humility. And the Gemara and the Meiri showed us how that same trait must guide both Tzedakah and Gemilus Chasadim. 

 

And from the overall connection between the Mizbeach of Earth instructions at the end of Yisro that leads into ALL of the Mishpatim, we are reminded that even our simple connection to God’s law is guided by humbleness. 

As we will be tasked with giving in the coming weeks – Matanos L’Evyonim for Purim and Ma’os Chitim for Pesach – let us remember that whatever we have is a gift from the Almighty and we are the vessels through which it is paid forward to those who are needy, to those who are the recipients of our tzedakah and the beneficiaries of our Gemilut Chasadim. May we merit to give with humility, and to hopefully be blessed in the kind by the Almighty.

Just Because You Love It Does Not Mean You Can Covet

Parshas Yisro

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In the last of the Ten Commandments, we have the Hebrew phrase, לא תחמד, You shall not covet, appearing twice. יד) לֹ֥א תַחְמֹ֖ד בֵּ֣ית רֵעֶ֑ךָ ס לֹֽא־תַחְמֹ֞ד אֵ֣שֶׁת רֵעֶ֗ךָ וְעַבְדּ֤וֹ וַאֲמָתוֹ֙ וְשׁוֹר֣וֹ וַחֲמֹר֔וֹ וְכֹ֖ל אֲשֶׁ֥ר לְרֵעֶֽךָ: -- Do not covet your neighbor's house. Do not covet your neighbor's wife, his slave, his maid, his ox, his donkey, or anything else that is your neighbor's. 

 There is a subtle but clear difference in the presentation of the Tenth Commandment in Parshas Va’eschanan, which reads like this: יח) וְלֹ֥א תַחְמֹ֖ד אֵ֣שֶׁת רֵעֶ֑ךָ ס וְלֹ֨א תִתְאַוֶּ֜ה בֵּ֣ית רֵעֶ֗ךָ שָׂדֵ֜הוּ וְעַבְדּ֤וֹ וַאֲמָתוֹ֙ שׁוֹר֣וֹ וַחֲמֹר֔וֹ וְכֹ֖ל אֲשֶׁ֥ר לְרֵעֶֽךָ: ס -- Do not covet your neighbor's wife. Do not desire your neighbor's house, his field, his male or female slave, his ox, his donkey, or anything else that belongs to your neighbor. 

 In both cases the words Lo Sachmod are attached to Eishes Rei’ekha (your neighbor’s wife). Though the reference to the wife is changed – in Yisro it is mentioned after not coveting Beis Rei’ekha, while in Va’eschanan it is mentioned first and not connected to anything else. 

 In Yisro, Lo Sachmod for the neighbor’s wife is attached to all the things listed – male and female servants, ox, donkey, and everything your neighbor owns. The same verb is employed in the first half of the verse attached to the feeling of wanting one’s neighbor’s house, which is listed separate from everything else. 

 In Va’eschanan, there is a different word employed – Lo Sisaveh – which probably is best translated as “don’t desire,” and seems to be the verb of choice employed for everything other than the neighbor’s wife. Don’t covet – לא תחמד – the wife. And don’t desire all the other items – though here a “field” is added (שדהו) to the list of specifics, even though it is certainly included in the phrase of וכל אשר לרעך. 

 What does it mean to Covet? The Rambam (LT 265) defines the prohibition against coveting: We are warned against making all kinds of efforts in order to acquire something from our friend’s possession. Even if one intends to buy it, even with an immense sum of money! 

 Lo Sisaveh (LT 266) – the formulation used in Va’Eschanan - is a warning against desiring it in our hearts, because that desire leads to Chimud, actually doing something to acquire the item. In essence, the Mechilta explains that Taavah (desiring) leads to Chimud (coveting), and Chimud leads to stealing. 

 Sefer HaChinukh points out (Mitzvah 38) that stealing can lead to murder. 

Violation of Chimud comes when your friend’s property is now yours – even if you bought it! – when he had no desire to get rid of it. The classic example of this is when the evil King Achav desired the land that Navot HaYizraeli owned. The story in Melachim I Chapter 21 is quite disgraceful and disturbing, and it involved deception, lying, stealing, and even murder, all justified by the royal perpetrators of the crimes, because of a Chimud which certainly went unchecked and led to actions that are so criminal in every way. 

 On the mitzvah of not desiring – Lo Sisaveh (416) – the Sefer HaChinukh gives a scathing rebuke: Don’t wonder and ask “How could a person stop himself from desiring anything he sees? How could the Torah command withdrawal, when it is impossible for a human being to stop one’s thoughts?” This is not true. Only fools say these kinds of things.

A person can CERTAINLY control himself or herself. It is within the person’s power to make such decisions, etc. It might very well be a struggle. But it is also one that can be overcome.

One need only open a newspaper or news website to read how dangerous Taavah and Chimud can be.. Assaults, rapes, teachers seducing (raping) underage students, all kinds of perverse sexual activity that is even too disturbing to mention by name; theft, murder, terrorism (which is often celebrated by the worst kinds of people humanity has to offer). Two hours before Shabbos (on Friday 2/10/23) in Jerusalem a terrorist drove into a bus station killing two people (ages 20 and 6) and injuring a few others. He was shot dead at the scene as people were trying to get him out of the car. 

 In the latter case, this Tayvah for hate, the Chimud that leads to murder in the name of a desire for violence that can’t be quenched is difficult to understand or come to grips with. 

 In a way, though, all of these stem from coveting. Whether coveting a person, coveting control, coveting to control others’ lives, coveting a land or life that others are enjoying might not seem to speak to our personal experience (depending who is reading this and where people live). We can ask what do these kinds of generalizations have to do with us? Not to covet? That’s simple enough. How often do we go into a friend’s house and offer to buy their family heirlooms, their photographs, their car, their house, when they are not even offering to sell? Which man is encouraging his friend to divorce for the sole purpose of marrying the other man's wife? Who among us so desires what another person has that we’d resort to murder to get it? 

 How far is covet’s reach? Is being friends with a couple a violation of this? Is thinking “so-and-so has a nice wife” a prohibition? 

 A few clarifications are in order to help us understand the relevant dangers of Lo Sachmod. 

 One: Coveting is not the same thing as jealousy. If a person wants a nice house, a nice car, a nice wife and a wonderful family because he sees you have a nice car, a nice house, a nice wife, a wonderful family, the person is not coveting. The person wants to have a certain kind of joy or pleasure in life that is available if life aligns in that way. Certainly hishtadlus (effort) may be necessary to make it happen. But getting those things on one’s own is beneficial to the individual, it takes nothing away from you. Jealousy is not a great thing – but it’s a personal problem. 

 Coveting is when a person wants YOURS A. to have what was yours (taking from your life, even if paying for it), and B. so you won’t have it anymore. 

 If you are selling your car, your house, or if you’ve divorced your wife, there is no prohibition from another person desiring to buy the tangible items. That is business. Trying to court and marry an unmarried woman is not a violation of the prohibition of coveting. That is legitimate courtship. 

 Aside from the process that is designed by the Mechilta, of how desiring leads to coveting, which leads to stealing, which may lead to murder, because in all likelihood we’re not stealing and murdering, what is wrong with a thought process of Tayvah? What is wrong with convincing someone to sell something he doesn’t want to part with? 

 The downsides of Lo Sachmod include selfishness – that I deserve something that I arguably do not deserve. 

 Or, perhaps the opposite, that I desire to be something that I am not. Remember that so-important teaching of Ben Zoma, איזהו עשיר השמח בחלקו – who is rich? He who is happy with his portion. The person who violates Lo Sachmod is clearly not happy with his or her portion, which is why he/she is seeking to change who he or she is through taking over different aspects of someone else’s life. 

 Ibn Ezra suggests that the real problem with Lo Sachmod is that the violator demonstrates a significant lack of Emunah – lack of faith in God that his portion in life, what God has given him is exactly what he should have. If he wants something similar to what someone else has that is fine, but it should be gotten honestly (legit business transaction) and not through a means that deprives someone else of their own happiness. 

 In Parshas Kedoshim, the parsha very clearly parallels the Aseres Hadibros in many ways, and the Ramban, who jumps on these, aiming to assign direct parallels to the Ten Commandments links Lo Sachmod with V’ahavta L’Reiakha Kamokha.

In other words, this important principle, so focused on by the likes of Rabbi Akiva as one of the greatest principles in the Torah, is violated by anyone who covets his neighbor’s property, or who covets his neighbor’s wife. 

Finally, in an article on this last of the Dibros, Rabbi Michael Rosenzweig focused on Lo Sachmod as the closing bookend of the unit of the Aseres Hadibros, suggesting that the opening – Anochi Hashem E’lokekha, is linked to the closing – Lo Sachmod. The Aseres HaDibros begins with a call-out for a faith commitment, which is vitalized and manifested through a commitment to halakha, and the shaping of the halakhic personality in particular. 

The other Bein Adam Lachaveiro mitzvos here are relatively uncommon sins among the faithful. Murder? Adultery? Stealing? Kidnapping? Selling into slavery? Lying in court? 

But Lo Sachmod is the beginning of the slippery slope that can lead to all of them. 

Who wants to murder or steal or commit adultery? Most people are not interested in that. But once the threshold of Lo Sachmod is crossed, all kinds of justifications slip into the psyche to allow deeds we would otherwise never commit. 

Just Because You Love It Does Not Mean You Can Covet – because coveting is the beginning of the end of the breakdown of our relationships, and ultimately, our Torah and halakhically oriented society.

Pessimism is a Downer

Parshat Beshalach

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

As they are being confronted by a pursuing Egyptian army, some of the Israelites turn to Moshe and say “We told you so!” Or, to be more precise in translating their words, “This is indeed the thing we told you of in Egypt, that we are better off serving Egypt than dying in the wilderness.” As to what they actually told him in Egypt, most sources point to Shemos 5:21 when, after hearing their workload has gotten harder since they will no longer be provided with straw, the people say “May God look upon you and judge, for you have brought us into foul odor in the eyes of Pharaoh and in the eyes of his servants, to place a sword into their hand[s] to kill us.” The Pesikta describes their “journey” in this way: “First we were pained in Egypt on account of our slavery. Then the deaths of our brethren during the 3 days of darkness hit us, which was more painful than slavery. And now we perceive our own pending death in the wilderness as even worse than the deaths of our brethren in Egypt, for they were buried, and in this wilderness, who will bury us?” [The reference to darkness is a line of thinking in the Midrash that the Israelites who were unworthy or who did not want to leave Egypt died during the Plague of Darkness, so the Egyptians would not see the devastation wrought against the Israelites during those 3 days.]

Surely there is an element of human nature on display here, whether it’s wistful nostalgia for the olden days, a grim look at the present in comparing it to the past, or a simple pessimism that apparently things DO always get worse. 

This sentiment is addressed by some of the commentaries on the Torah. Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrachi, a super-commentary on Rashi (commentary on a commentary) notes the 5:21 quote mentioned above as to when they told Moshe in Egypt of how bad things were indicating that when they said “you are putting a sword in their hand…” they were not indicating that it is better for us to be enslaved in Egypt than to die in the wilderness. After all, at that point they were still in Egypt, and the prospect of possibly dying in the wilderness was not an option yet. AND their brethren hadn’t died in Darkness yet. In fact, none of the plagues had taken place yet at that point. 

 What they are saying here is that “what we said at that time turned out to be correct. You had made things worse for us in Egypt through causing our labor to be harder. Subsequent to that, we’ve seen our brethren die in the Darkness, and we are about to be killed ourselves. Everything was much better before you (Moshe) showed up and only made things worse than our original status quo.” 

It’s amazing how slaves can be so beaten down that their reality of slavery, of no hope, of a seemingly endless road to nowhere can come to be accepted as “normal” and something which is “good.” Certainly when people are optimistic about their abysmal conditions, they may say “Things can always be worse.” But these texts indicate that it’s only when things get worse that in hindsight people appreciate how the previous “bad” was “better” than what we are facing now. 

 Kli Yakar notes the reality that when Pharaoh made the labor more intense back in Chapter 5, he did not make any decrees of genocide. Their claim “to put a sword in their hands to kill us” was not only an exaggeration, but it was a lie. In their defense, perhaps their backbreaking labor is compared to a sword, and making their labor harder will inevitably lead to more deaths, even if there isn’t a specific genocidal campaign against them. 

Kli Yakar suggests that they indicated both that Pharaoh did not send them, and he made them into further pariahs through how the Egyptians perceive them (“into foul odor in the eyes of the Egyptians”). Continuing the thought process of how Pharaoh will perceive them, “You told Pharaoh we’d be celebrating God in the wilderness, but now Pharaoh perceives that we are not coming back altogether. Undoubtedly this will cause him to chase after us! In other words, this method of deception is as if you have put a sword in their hands with designs on killing us. Now that we see them actually chasing, whatever had been held in check is now part of history. NOW, Egypt is looking for blood.” 

 Alternatively, “now that we see how about our situation outside of Egypt is, we should have noted how much better things were for us in Egypt. We are only noticing and realizing this now.” 

As noted above, this is human nature. While some people are very good about living in the moment and appreciating God’s hand in every aspect of life, some only notice the things they missed earlier when the moment is gone, or when it is too late. 

 It is hard to tell a pessimist to be an optimist, just as it is hard to encourage an optimist to be pessimistic. We can’t make an extrovert be introverted, and good luck trying to get the introvert to be an extrovert. It’s not that passion can’t push a person beyond natural limitations, but looking to change someone’s nature is very difficult, if not impossible. 

 When we consider the viewpoint expressed by the Midrash, that in hindsight, things are only getting worse, we see a perspective that Moshe challenges and dismisses. 

 Forget about Egypt and what you perceive! As you see Egypt today, you will not see them again! In other words, things are getting better! Not only is slavery over, but you are free… free to move into the sea and see God’s mighty hand, free to move on from slavery, free to do many things you’ve thought are forbidden, free to choose to have God in your life, free to raise your children, free to educate your children, free to be free of being owned by the State. 

 It is not the intention to change anyone’s nature in this essay. But perhaps Moshe Rabbenu’s message to the people he addresses is “Don’t be SO pessimistic. Not every charge, not every perceived outcome turns out the way you think it will be.” 

Such is life. We do our part, we trust that God will carry us the rest of the way, and we must always always always hope and pray for the best. There is an old line (which I am slightly modifying), “For those who don’t believe, there are no answers. For those who believe, there aren’t really any questions.” 

 Moshe Rabbenu was trying to teach the Bnei Yisrael to believe, because there shouldn’t really be questions. And of course the outcome of what followed this incredible tale is “And they believed in God, and in Moshe His servant.”

Non Trivial Pronunciation (Encouragement for Reading Properly!)

Parshat Bo

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Nowadays, with the right computer program, one can easily search the name משה to answer the question “how many times does Moshe’s name appear in the Torah?” The problem with a computer program is that it will give you every time the combination of משה appears, such as in the word חמשה (which means “5”). And while you can search specifically for those letters standing alone, should you choose to do so, all the times Moshe appears with a prefix למשה, ומשה, and ובמשה (etc) will not appear.

A popular story is told of a great rabbi who was asked this question, and gave a number that was two fewer than the number the computer churned out. When challenged by the computer’s results, he noted that the computer likely picked upi the words in the following verses that are spelled with the same letters but are pronounced differently (Shmos 12:4 and Devarim 15:2). In our parsha, the word is mi-seh, if a home is without a lamb (וְאִם־יִמְעַ֣ט הַבַּיִת֘ מִהְיוֹ֣ת מִשֶּׂה֒ וְלָקַ֣ח ה֗וּא וּשְׁכֵנ֛וֹ הַקָּרֹ֥ב אֶל־בֵּית֖וֹ בְּמִכְסַ֣ת נְפָשֹׁ֑ת), and in Re’eh, the word is ma’shay, to release the hand of every creditor from what he lent his friend (שָׁמ֗וֹט כָּל־בַּ֙עַל֙ מַשֵּׁ֣ה יָד֔וֹ אֲשֶׁ֥ר יַשֶּׁ֖ה בְּרֵעֵ֑הוּ).

In the larger scheme of things, the trivia question of how many times Moshe’s name appears in the Torah is certainly not important. [It is certainly interesting that the letters משה alone, without a prefix, appear 616 times. Take away the two exceptions noted above, and we have 614, which is pretty close to a magical Jewish number!] What is important is that we read words correctly and, ideally, know or have a basic understanding of what we are saying when we are reading.

 While I don’t suppose anyone would read the word משה in any way other than “Moshe” (two exceptions noted above notwithstanding), if a reader were to read the name in the manner we often speak it in English, with the accent on the MO, we would have to correct him. One of the Roshei Yeshiva at Yeshivat Har Etzion is Rav Mosheh Lichtenstein (he is the son of Rav Aharon Lichtenstein ZT”L), and it is clear that the Lichtensteins chose to put an “h” at the end of the English spelling of his name in order to emphasize that it should be pronounced mo-SHEH. 

In the rules of Kriat HaTorah (Torah Reading) the Shulchan Arukh says the following:

 שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות קריאת ספר תורה סימן קמב:א

 א') א] קרא וטעה, (א) אפילו א) בדקדוק אות אחת, * (ב) מחזירין אותו. הגה: ב) וכן דין (ג) החזן הקורא; ג) ודוקא בשינוי שמשתנה ע"י זה הענין, * (ד) אבל אם טעה בנגינת הטעם א א'} או בניקוד, * (ה) אין מחזירין אותו, אבל גוערין (ו) בו (ב"י ופסקי מהרא"י סימן קפ"א). 

 “If one read and erred (i.e. the person who got the Aliyah), even a mistake in one letter, we have him go back (and read it again correctly). RAM”A: The same rule applies to an appointed reader. But this refers specifically to a change (e.g. error) that changes the meaning of the subject. But if he made a mistake in the cantillation or in the vowelization, we don’t have him go back (and read it again), but we do rebuke him!”

 In one of his comments in the Biur Halakha, Rabbi YM Kagan (aka the Chofetz Chaim) quotes the Vilna Gaon who would be careful that even the difference between מצרים and מצריים be noted properly, even though it doesn’t change the meaning of the subject as context will demonstrate that it is referring either to Egypt or to Egyptians. 

 The last comment of the Mishneh Brurah (letter ו above) reads as follows: 

   וכתב בתשובת מהר"מ מינץ החזן צריך לחזור מתחלה הסדרא שתהא שגורה בפיו כל הדקדוקים במתגין לעיל ומלרע ימין ושמאל ויקרא במתון ולא במהירות ואולי יבליע שום אות או תיבה והביאו הא"ר:

 “In the Responsa of MhR”M Mintz, the Chazzan should review the entire parsha over and over so he is well familiar with all of the precise components (of reading such as) all the מתגs, when the word is pronounced on the second-to-last or the last syllable… and he should read it slower than faster, lest he swallow a letter or a word (see Eliyahu Rabba).” 

 This set of rules is also applicable to everyone in our davening, most notably with the precision required when reading the paragraphs of Shema (See Shulchan Arukh OC 61 + 64). When I worked with children on Hebrew reading (a specialty in schools), I discovered that 90% of kids were making the same errors, primarily because they had learned to “read” the Shema from hearing it and weren’t actually paying attention to the reading element. It is unfortunately also the case that some teachers never learned to read properly themselves, and teach their own mistakes to their students. The two most common errors I heard from kids were in the first paragraph of the Shema (3 words are in bold – we’ll get back to the first one there in a moment):

 (ז) וְשִׁנַּנְתָּ֣ם לְבָנֶ֔יךָ וְדִבַּרְתָּ֖ בָּ֑ם בְּשִׁבְתְּךָ֤ בְּבֵיתֶ֙ךָ֙ וּבְלֶכְתְּךָ֣ בַדֶּ֔רֶךְ וּֽבְשָׁכְבְּךָ֖ וּבְקוּמֶֽךָ: (ח) וּקְשַׁרְתָּ֥ם לְא֖וֹת עַל־יָדֶ֑ךָ וְהָי֥וּ לְטֹטָפֹ֖ת בֵּ֥ין עֵינֶֽיךָ: (ט) וּכְתַבְתָּ֛ם עַל־מְזֻז֥וֹת בֵּיתֶ֖ךָ וּבִשְׁעָרֶֽיךָ: ס 

 90% of the kids I worked with read וּֽבְשָׁכְבְּךָ֖ as “Uv’shov’t’kha” – most likely because 4 words earlier is בְּשִׁבְתְּךָ֤. Please note that the word should be read “Uv’shokh’b’kha.” They also read the first word of the last verse וּכְתַבְתָּ֛ם as “Uk’shartam” – most likely because it sounds like the first word of the previous verse. Except that this word should be pronounced “ukh’tavtam” or “ukh’savtam” (depending on your pronunciation).

 Another pair of common errors is on the word וְדִבַּרְתָּ֖ as well as the opening word of the paragraph, וְאָ֣הַבְתָּ֔. Both of those words have in common that their accent is on the last syllable: v’di’bar’TA and v’a’hav’TA. Translated, those words mean “and you shall speak” and “and you shall love.” If the accent is placed earlier in the word (v’di’BAR’ta and v’a’HAV’ta), the meaning of the word changes to past tense: “and you spoke” and “and you loved.”

 While it doesn’t sound like it should be a big deal, once translated one can easily see how the meaning of the verses changes significantly due to the difference in tense. So significant is this set of rules in Shema, there is a debate as to whether a person has fulfilled one’s obligation if one reads incorrectly! 

I have heard it said, interestingly in the name of Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, that there are only two arenas in Halakha for which the halakhist (or rabbi) needs to be able to answer clearly right away. They are questions of pikuach nefesh, of dealing with someone whose life is in danger, and if an error is made in the Torah reading (this may have also been intended to imply what constitutes an actual error in the Torah’s writing when discovered during Torah reading). One needs to know in the moment, and there is no time to waste! Hopefully we can process whether a change means the same thing when it is read in a very quick way. Otherwise, we run the risk of not fulfilling our obligations.

 May we be blessed to want to be as proficient in these arenas as possible, and to make the efforts necessary to have proper reading come as naturally as possible to us.

The Word of God – a Priority for All!

Parshat Va'era

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There’s a phrase which appears in our parsha. דבר ה'. Dvar Hashem. 

 That formulation appears only 5 times in the Torah. Perhaps it can be translated as “The word of God.” The first two times it appears is in Parshas Lekh Lekha, in a conversation between Avraham and God that precedes the Covenant Between the Pieces (Bereshit 15:1,4). בראשית פרק טו

 (א) אַחַ֣ר׀ הַדְּבָרִ֣ים הָאֵ֗לֶּה הָיָ֤ה דְבַר־יְקֹוָק֙ אֶל־אַבְרָ֔ם בַּֽמַּחֲזֶ֖ה לֵאמֹ֑ר אַל־תִּירָ֣א אַבְרָ֗ם אָנֹכִי֙ מָגֵ֣ן לָ֔ךְ שְׂכָרְךָ֖ הַרְבֵּ֥ה מְאֹֽד: 

(ב) וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אַבְרָ֗ם אֲדֹנָ֤י יֱקֹוִק֙ מַה־תִּתֶּן־לִ֔י וְאָנֹכִ֖י הוֹלֵ֣ךְ עֲרִירִ֑י וּבֶן־מֶ֣שֶׁק בֵּיתִ֔י ה֖וּא דַּמֶּ֥שֶׂק אֱלִיעֶֽזֶר:

(ג) וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אַבְרָ֔ם הֵ֣ן לִ֔י לֹ֥א נָתַ֖תָּה זָ֑רַע וְהִנֵּ֥ה בֶן־בֵּיתִ֖י יוֹרֵ֥שׁ אֹתִֽי:

 (ד) וְהִנֵּ֨ה דְבַר־יְקֹוָ֤ק אֵלָיו֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר לֹ֥א יִֽירָשְׁךָ֖ זֶ֑ה כִּי־אִם֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יֵצֵ֣א מִמֵּעֶ֔יךָ ה֖וּא יִֽירָשֶֽׁךָ: 

What is the Dvar Hashem? On the surface it seems to mean the words God was speaking to Avraham. The first time God is saying: Don’t worry, you have more merits. The second time: the guy you think will be inheriting will not, you will have a son who will inherit. 

It could be that the “Dvar Hashem” is the promise of having children, and that the goal of having children, certainly for Avraham, was the goal. This relates to a recent message I shared with my congregation, of sensitivity to those who do not have any children, or who might very well be struggling to have another child. I received an email from someone who was present, which included these three sentences: “I wanted to thank you for your speech on Saturday. My wife has had health issues that has prevented us from having a second child up to this point [note – he told me how many years, but I have removed that detail – AB]. This has led to such rude and appalling comments from friends and family members and community members…” That note alone should be a reminder that unless we know what someone is going through (and more often we do not) we should be very careful about what we say. Certainly when we know, we are very careful… kal va’chomer when we do not know! 

 That conversation with Avraham continues with God challenging Avraham to count the stars to see to what his descendants will be compared. And the interpretations go from a simple comparison of numbers to all kinds of metaphors surrounding how long the light of stars exist for, what a star’s role is in the cosmos. 

 The next two times we hear the phrase Dvar Hashem are in the buildup to the last plague in our Parsha, the plague of ברד, hail. (9:20-21) 

שמות פרק ט 

(כ) הַיָּרֵא֙ אֶת־דְּבַ֣ר יְקֹוָ֔ק מֵֽעַבְדֵ֖י פַּרְעֹ֑ה הֵנִ֛יס אֶת־עֲבָדָ֥יו וְאֶת־מִקְנֵ֖הוּ אֶל־הַבָּתִּֽים: 

(כא) וַאֲשֶׁ֥ר לֹא־שָׂ֛ם לִבּ֖וֹ אֶל־דְּבַ֣ר יְקֹוָ֑ק וַֽיַּעֲזֹ֛ב אֶת־עֲבָדָ֥יו וְאֶת־מִקְנֵ֖הוּ בַּשָּׂדֶֽה: פ 

We have to remember that in Parshas Shmos, when Moshe first came before Pharaoh saying Hashem said Let My People Go, they were only planning for a 3-day “Shabbaton” in the wilderness. When Pharaoh said מי ה'? Who is Hashem? Who is this God of yours? That was a game-changer. And it is so clear.

Pharaoh could have said “Go for your Shabbaton. And come back.” But when he challenged God’s existence, the purpose of the plagues became למען תדע, למען תדעון, וידעו מצרים… what will they know? KI ANI HASHEM! KI AIN KaHASHEM ELOKAINU, Ki EIN KAMONI B’CHOL HAARETZ!I am God! There is no one like God at all! And none like Him in all of the world. 

And the lesson is quickly picked up! But it is not internalized by all, especially the king. His magicians quickly figure out what they’re up against. And Pharaoh gives in several times to let them go - 5 times before the 6th and final time. After Frogs, after beasts, after hail, before locusts and after locusts. Then after the final plague. Each time with a condition! Only the men! No children! No animals! 

Dvar Hashem is the word of God. Those who feared the word of God, in the Egyptian population, heeded the warnings and brought their servants and animals inside. (Though I wonder, were they Egyptian slaves? Israelite slaves? Unclear!) 

The final time the phrase דבר ה' appears in the Torah is in Parshas Shlach, in the context of describing someone who is to be punished for denigrating the דבר ה'. What is the דבר ה'? Rabbenu Bachaye says it is all of the Torah(!) because the person in question has turned to idolatry and a denial of God! 

What does this say about Avraham? Perhaps it is a support for the idea that Avraham was aware of and practiced all (or most) of the mitzvos of the Torah. After all, he received the Dvar Hashem! Perhaps, from a different vantage point, Dvar Hashem is simply a reminder to Avraham that if you do right by Me, God says, I promise I will do right for you. You will have children. You will become a nation. 

This would also indicate that the Egyptians who were spared in the plague of hail had come around to the reality that there is a God in the world. And if He warns us how to avoid trouble and injury, we should heed that warning. 

Of course, the only way to hear that word of God is from a prophet such as Moshe Rabbenu. In our times we may tend to avoid many risky behaviors that may lead to injury, and we follow advice from people we respect and admire when it comes to taking care of ourselves (Maimonideans look to Hilkhot De’ot chapter 4!). No matter what, in the end, as none of us are God, we do our best to take responsibility for our own well-being, and hopefully God will carry us the rest of the way.

Remember, the people in Egypt had every opportunity! Those who feared God were saved. Because they understood God’s ways. Those who felt they knew better than God suffered the consequences. 

 Prioritizing children, warnings of God to take care of yourselves, or being concerned with fulfilling all of the Torah – these are the Torah’s definitions of the דבר ה'. 

 May we be blessed to hear and experience the word of Hashem, and raise the bar on these priorities – for our own sake, and for the sake of the future of our people.

You People

Parshat Shemot 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Someone recently brought to my attention that there is a movie coming out entitled “You People,” about “a new couple and their families who find themselves examining modern love and family dynamics amidst clashing cultures, societal expectations and generational differences.” (IMDb) An interracial and interreligious couple (the former shouldn’t be problematic, the latter should be much more concerning) find themselves with their families utilizing the ubiquitous phrase “You people” to introduce their basic ignorance of the others’ culture. 

Many of us are familiar with the term “You people” which is unfortunately used in a context which should not be so familiar as it is often used by Jews who are unaffiliated when talking about Jews who are observant. 

This week in Boca Raton, a protest was held against an HOA that was looking to limit access to a walking gate that would save the Shomer Shabbos residents from having to walk 2 miles to get to the closest shul by cutting the walk to .7 miles. Those looking to limit access to this gate are clearly guided by viewing their observant neighbors as “You people” rather than as citizens of this country who are entitled to not be discriminated against for their religious beliefs. As Rabbi Blumenthal of BRS West put it, no other religious group or creed would be treated this way. Only because it is Orthodox Jews is this kind of treatment “OK” in the eyes of those who seek to limit access to a Shabbos gate. 

This is nothing new. “You people” was utilized by the Egyptians at the beginning of our Parsha. We know from the tale of Yaakov in Lavan’s house that being a shepherd could be a financial windfall. Yaakov amassed a tremendous amount of wealth in his final six years in Lavan’s house, all from being a successful shepherd. 

The fact that Bnei Yisrael came to Egypt and declared to Pharaoh “we are shepherds” served to put them in a position where they’d be separated from general Egyptian culture, where they’d be able to do their shepherding uninhibited by Egyptians, and where they’d essentially amass great wealth. 

After Yosef and his generation died, we are told that the Bnei Yisrael were fruitful and multiplied and filled the land. This likely means that their inhabitance expanded beyond the borders of Goshen. People needed to move to the suburbs because Goshen could simply not hold everyone. 

What happens when wealthy and successful members of an-until-recently-royal-family move to live among everyone else? The new neighbors see people they haven’t been exposed to before, they note their wealth, their high class of living, their large families, and they react. Perhaps some say “how beautiful!” In all likelihood others say, “Who are these people? Who do they think they are? Where did they get their money and possessions?” הנה עם בני ישראל רב ועצום ממנו – the nation of Israel is great and mighty from us. The source of their wealth is what they sucked out of our nation and economy! (Bina L’Itim) 

In the case of Egypt, there were downsides from their living among the Egyptians. Eventually those living in closer proximity to their Egyptian neighbors were largely indistinguishable. They stopped circumcising, they lived like Egyptians, they embraced idolatry and Egyptian culture. Our sages teach us that a few things saved the Israelites from complete assimilation – not changing their names, their manner of dress, not speaking Lashon Hora, and holding on to certain secrets (this list is not exhaustive). In other words, no matter what happened, they were always viewed as “you people” in a way, a reality that saved them from complete assimilation. 

Which leaves us with a question. Is isolating a group that wants to maintain its identity, by calling them “you people” as if to distinguish from “the rest of us normal people” a good thing or a bad thing? Meaning, if through saying “you people” the targets of that term are being identified as distinct, who have different practices than others, is this a bad thing? 

Obviously the answer depends on much context that is missing in the question. 

If there is no disdain in “you people” and no intent to discriminate against the “you people” then to be called “you people” in a manner which is admiring and which is accepting should not be viewed as a problem. 

The problem, however, is that the term “you people” is often preceded by “the problem with…” and is therefore not usually coming from a good place. 

History has proven time and time again that referring to any group as “you people” (with whatever phraseology might be employed to make the distinction) nearly always ends in travesty. “You people” leads to treating other people as being sub-human, thereby allowing some humans to treat other humans in a way which is inhumane. 

In our own communities we must respectfully call out the usage of the term “you people” when it is used in a way that is condescending and unkind, and when it comes from a place that indicates that any group, which may have different preferences and modes of practice, whether culturally, food-wise, or of course when motivated by certain halakhic dictates, is being discriminated against. And while some forms of communal practice seem innocuous and reasonable standards to bear, the reality is that that is not always the case. 

This is not to suggest that all things have to be, for example, to our liking only. We must also be tolerant of others and we must avoid being judgmental of a different set of standards that may not be our preference. 

What we learn from a comment God makes to Moshe “בני בכורי ישראל” is that all of humanity are God’s children. We may have a special place in the tapestry of being the children of God, but this does not allow us or anyone else from thinking that anyone is “better” than anyone else, or that anyone has more of a mandate on determining what is right for all. 

There is certainly a delicate balance that must be walked when dealing with other people and with their sensitivities. But “you people” should ideally be a phrase everyone agrees to table, as it is unproductive and only serves to alienate and isolate people who have a legitimate claim – to be treated as a human being who may have different needs and different struggles. 

May this balance be achieved, and may all neighbors find peace with one another.

Yaakov Prepares – Even Before His Final Illness?

Parshat Vaychi 

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

The Torah tells us that Yaakov lived in Egypt for 17 years, and when it came close to the time for Yisrael to die, he called Yosef in and asked him to swear that he’d oversee that burial will take place in Canaan. Yosef says “I will do as you say.” “Swear to me!” So Yosef swore, and Yisrael bowed on the bed. 

Some time passes (the text isn’t clear on how much time) and Yosef is told “Your father is sick,” which prompts him to bring his sons, Menashe and Efraim, to get a blessing from their grandfather. In that conversation, in an effort to clarify past events, Yaakov recalls how he had to bury Rachel on the side of the road, and had no choice about it. [There is surely significance to the Torah’s switching from “Yisrael” to “Yaakov” in the narrative – but that is beyond the scope of this essay.] 

As Yosef is bringing his sons closer to Saba Yaakov, we are told that “Yisrael’s eyes were heavy from old-age,” an indicator of why one might imagine he doesn’t seem to recognize Yosef’s sons, and why he chooses to put his right hand on the younger son (Efraim) in the coming verses. 

 Which leads to this question? When was he sick? In the opening verses of the parsha? Or not yet at that point, but only when the verse tells us (48:1) “Your father is sick?” 

Rabbi Baruch Epstein suggested that when Kevurah (burial) is on the mind of an individual, it is often when the person is sick, and death is on the mind. But in the opening verses of the parsha, there is no indication given that he was sick “yet.” In fact, we have seen that a health issue can be a prompt for action prior to this! “When Yitzchak’s eyes weakened, he called Eisav…” to have Eisav prepare food for him. But there is no such prompt here –he simply calls Yosef and has him swear regarding burial without telling Yosef anything other than that he needs Yosef to swear as noted above. 

 Rabbi Epstein surmises that Yaakov was already sick, as indicated by the verse “And the days of Yisrael came closer to death.” There is a known statement in the Talmud that prior to Yaakov, no one really got sick before dying. Death was sudden, without warning, and therefore without an opportunity to prepare, put things in order, say good bye to family members, etc. Yaakov requested that pre-death illness be a part of the world (Bava Metzia 87a). When he knew something was awry, he hid this reality from Yosef intentionally, for had Yosef known his father was at death’s door, Yosef might not have been obligated to follow through with whatever promise. After all, as is known, people make all kinds of commitments to the dying in order not to upset them, or in order to put their heart and mind at ease when they are close to the end. These kinds of commitments are called נדרי אונסין, and are not binding (See Yoreh Deah 228). 

 Therefore Yaakov did not reveal anything about his illness at the time he was asking Yosef to swear to bury him in Canaan because he did not want Yosef to feel as if the vow was forced or coerced or being taken in order to placate a dying man. Yaakov wanted it to be done as part of a normal conversation unaffected by Yosef’s concerns for his father’s mental health. 

 Once that was past, and once Yosef had returned home, word came back to him that “Your father is sick.” Whatever conversations happen now can fall under the category of נדרי אונסין, because the main vow Yaakov needed had been undertaken with an assumption of health all around due to Yaakov giving such an appearance to Yosef at the time. 

 This interpretation of this narrative just goes to demonstrate that some conversations are harder to open, and are uncomfortable to have. No one wants to talk about death and what will happen after one’s life on this earth has come to its end. We hope we will not be a burden to our family, but inevitably, the arrangements, the funeral, the burial will all be something that will happen and will be dealt with. 

As much as we are able to put things in order in our lifetimes, the easier it will be for family when the time comes. 

 Yaakov had a burial plot, but he did not have the means to get there. Yosef had the means, so Yaakov arranged that with him. 

Many people have burial plots. Others have paid for “everything” pre-need. It’s a good conversation to have either directly with a Chevra Kadisha, or with the family members most likely to be tasked with dealing with the final passage, whenever it comes, hopefully to 120 in good health. 

 The advantage of talking to a Chevra Kadisha, rather than a funeral home, is that the Chevra Kadisha knows what you want, they will remind you of all the things that religious Jews do, and they won’t try to sell you a fancier coffin or shrouds that are untraditional. In the event of a need for transport, they have so much experience, that having everything arranged simply requires a loved one to make one phone call, and so much discussion, decision making, crunching numbers over financing, arranging travel for family (another thing worth setting aside money for should one want family to be able to come without hesitation) will all or mostly be taken care of through that phone call. 

Yaakov Avinu wanted to make sure that the process was as easy as possible. Many commentaries note his genius in making Yosef swear, so that even Pharaoh, who may have had other ideas, could not in good conscience subvert Yosef’s oath to his father. Pharaoh could say to Yosef “You must swear to return” but he could not say “You are sworn never to leave Egypt.” So in more than one way, Yaakov demonstrated that even if he were ill in the initial conversation with Yosef in the parsha, his mind was clear, and he knew exactly what he was doing. [A fascinating thought to ponder is that Yosef also made his brothers swear to take him out of Egypt at the time of Exodus. That should have been honored by the Pharaoh of the Exodus, based on the precedent set at this time!]

Hopefully we too can get the proper guidance and advice, have the difficult conversations, and make sure our final transitions will be as easy for our families as possible, aside from the undeniable difficulty and pain that accompanies the end of life – which is a part of life. 

If we take care of these things in advance, while we are alive, then even in death we can still be giving to our family peace of mind through the harrowing ordeal they will inevitably experience. 

May we be blessed to not have to use our pre arrangements for many years.