"Holiness" does not equal "Spirituality"

Parshat Kedoshim 

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 The parsha begins with the charge to the children of Israel to be “Kedoshim” – for I, God explains about Himself, am “Kadosh.”

 The words “Kedoshim” and “Kadosh” have several possible meanings. The Midrash focuses on the concept of separation (Rashi jumps on these coattails) – from immorality, from idolatry. Ramban focuses on the concept of separation, leading us to understand that the word “Kodesh” is meant to be demanding a higher ethic of the children of Israel.

 Many will look at the words and associate the concepts of sanctification and holiness with “Kedusha.” No matter what the words mean,

Blood is the Soul

...so don't put it in your mouth!

Parshat Acharei Mot

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The coming holiday of Pesach always brings back images of blood – Blood as a sign on the doorpost, that is. The Shakh, in his commentary on Parshat Bo, claims the blood that was placed on the doorposts was a combination of the blood of the lamb and blood gathered in a major circumcision festival that was necessary to allow people to partake of the Korban Pesach (Paschal lamb). He specifically identifies the blood from the circumcision as coming from the act of circumcision and the removal of the mucosal membrane (no mention of from the act of metzitzah!).

            

Of course, in that context, the blood served as a “reminder” (so to speak) to God of the covenant that connected our people to Him for eternity. The sign, as it were, was significant for the people as well, because their own blood was in it. (Maimonides,Guide 3:46, quoting the teaching from Yechezkel 16:6)

            

Making the Seder Memorable

On Tuesday night I presented a class for kids at the Young Israel of Hollywood, entitled "Making your Seder MEMORABLE." There were about 25 kids there, along with their parents and/or grandparents. 

Technically savvy participant Jon Garber had the foresight to take pictures of some of the more expressive moments. 

I wrote about a bunch of the ideas last year

The kids had a great time. I had a great time. And we even ended up singing the song that was parodied here (video after the photos).

The Ear, the Thumb and the Toe

Parshat Metzora

by Rabbi Avi Billet

My daughter and I were recently learning Metzora, and she asked me why the process of getting rid of tzaraat included a ritual of placing blood on the ear, thumb and toe of the afflicted individual, on the one hand, and why it is specifically on the right (and not the left) of all extremities.

                

The simple answer is that the ritual described in 14:14 and 14:25 is meant to parallel, in a way, the ritual that was invoked in the transforming of Aharon and his sons from Levites to Kohanim. (8:23) Many aspects of both rituals are similar – including the specific kinds of sacrifices and offerings and what is done with the blood. [A similar comparison can be made to the consecration of the Levites to serve in the Mishkan, particularly insofar as the shaving of the hair goes (see Bamidbar 8:6-7)]

To run the parallel to one possible conclusion, perhaps both processes were meant to bring the person to a new level of spiritual fulfillment. Just as the kohanim could achieve things as kohanim that they could never have done as Levites, the former metzora is leaving behind a life of sinning and depravity to embrace a new existential reality through his renewed commitment to God and to his treatment of his fellow Man.

But it turns out that the symbolism runs much deeper than parallel rituals. [I did not find an answer for why the right over the left – but perhaps it is a reflection of the preference the Torah has for the right side in general.]

The Alshich, for example, creates a tale of extremes that could come from the act of Lashon Hara, gossip, one of the recognized main causes of the tzaraat affliction. Lashon Hara could be responsible for the deaths of three people. Perhaps someone tells his friend something about another person, which drives the listening party to murder. The relatives of the murdered chase down the murderer. God now avenges the deaths of these two people, through tzaraat upon the one who started it all, who opened the chain of events through saying Lashon Hara that should not have been shared.

The placing of the blood follows the acts of guilt. An ear heard the Lashon Hara. A hand was used to kill the subject of the Lashon Hara. Feet were used to chase down the murderer. The blood of guilt is therefore placed on these body parts of the tzaraat-afflicted.

There is an even deeper level associated with this act when done to the Levites who became Kohanim.  

Rabbi Yitzchak Caro (Toldot Yitzchak) describes one approach that the Mishkan and the human body parallel three worlds. Since the Mishkan also parallels the body, the equation becomes clear.

The Holy of Holies parallels the world of angels. The main room of the Mishkan parallels the galaxy of planets. The outer courtyard parallels our world.  In every human, the head is compared to the world of the angels, the heart to the world of the planets, and the insides and lower extremities of the body parallel this world.

The Mishkan needs to have a person who understands this – and this is the Kohen Gadol.

This is why Moshe put the blood (which brings atonement for the soul) on these three parts of the Kohen who brings atonement. The ear represents the head, the finger represents the heart as it is in the middle of the body, and the toe represents the lower extremities of the body. The parallel to having influence in the three worlds is achieved.

The message was driven home to the Kohen through these extremities as well. Blood on the ear reminded him to remember and be careful about what he heard and what he was commanded with respect to his job in the Avodah (service) of the Mishkan. Blood on his hand served as a reminder to be careful about the performance of the avodah of the mishkan, mostly done with the hands. Blood on the foot was to encourage him (“l’zarez oto”) not to enter or go to a forbidden place.

                

Perhaps the parallel to the tzaraat-afflicted becomes clear is well. Tzaraat affects the entire body, but is really supposed to overturn a person’s world. One cannot emerge unchanged from a tzaraat experience. The process of exile is mind-shattering, and the process of returning to one’s home, community and life is transformative.

                

Just as the kohen’s lesson spans worlds, the metzora’s lesson spans his personal world. Both are meant to learn how they are to use their bodies, and their senses, to achieve holiness and completion through properly serving God.

Bedikat Chametz: Do I have to or not?

With Pesach around the corner, and a lot of people going away, the question comes up whether a home needs to be checked for chametz. Can't I just "sell" my house and everything in it?

Here are the rules simply summarized:

0. If you are home for Pesach, Bedikat Chametz takes place in your home during the evening, on the night before Seder-night.

1. If you will be out of the house more than 30 days prior to Pesach, you do not need to do a bedikah.

2. If you are still in the house within 30 days of the holiday, do a bedikah before you leave, unless...

3. If someone is staying in your house, AND they have access to the house before the 14th of Nissan (the night of bedikat chametz), THEY must do the bedikah. In this case, you should have the house cleaned (which is hopefully obvious), but the obligation of bedikah is upon those who will be in the house for 14 Nissan.

4. If your home will be available to others for chol hamoed or later, you (the homeowner) must do the bedikah.

Remember that Bedikat Chametz does not have to drive you crazy. If you've cleaned your house (an ordinary cleaning), and you've looked in places you might have placed chametz and know they are clean, you do not need to "check them." [Having little kids who don't follow house rules can put a slight damper on this.] As long as you haven't been carrying chametz around the house, bedikat chametz need only take place in rooms where you know food was brought since the cleaning.

If you are selling your chametz, the chametz should be placed in boxes or cabinets that are sealed and/or covered.

Good luck. And chag kasher v'sameach!

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.

           

What is My Destiny?

Being Honest About the Roles We Play in Our Lives 

(It May Take a Week to Figure It Out) 

 Parshat Shmini 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 The Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 11:6) records a strange narrative surrounding the appointment of Aharon and his sons as the Kohanim.

Rabbi Yudan in the name of Rabbi Yosi bar Yehuda, and Rabbi Berachia in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korkha said, All the years in the desert, Moshe served as co-Kohen Gadol as well (based on Tehillim 99:6 or Divrei Hayamim I 23:13-14).

Rabbi Yudan further notes that Moshe served for the 7 days of the Miluim (Dedication of the Mishkan). Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachman compares this to the Midrashic approach that Moshe conversed with God for 7 days at the Burning Bush. At that time, God spent six days trying to convince Moshe he was the right man for the job. On the seventh day, Moshe said, “Send someone else.”

The Midrash claims God’s unstated response was, “I swear I will clip your wings [when you want it most].” Rabbi Levi explains that for the first six days of the last Adar of his life Moshe prayed before God that he should be allowed to enter the Land of Israel. It was on the seventh day of Adar that God said to him, “You will not cross this River.”

Rabbi Chelbo said the same thing was going on in our parsha. For seven days Moshe served as Kohen Gadol and thought the position was his. On the seventh day, however, he was told, “The job is not yours. It belongs to Aharon your brother.” Thus, “And it was on the eighth day that Moshe called to Aharon and his sons, and told them…” the instructions that begin our parsha.

The combination of Rabbis Yudan, Shmuel, Levi and Chelbo leaves us wondering: what kind of games are being played in these Midrashim? Did God really punish Moshe for his hesitation to go before Pharaoh at the burning Bush? And even if God did punish him (see Rashi Shmot 4:14), is this kind of measure for measure really necessary? You, Moshe, played on God’s hopes for 6 days, and then let Him down on day 7, so He is going to play on your hopes for 6 days and let you down on day 7! Ha! Gotcha!

Really?!

One piece of this Midrash – which stands almost as an aside to the Midrash’s narrative – could provide the answer to our question (also in Yerushalmi Yoma 1:1). “Rabbi Tanchum said that Moshe served all 7 days as Kohen Gadol, and God’s presence was not apparent through his hand.”

There is an opinion (Shemot Rabba 37:1, Rashi Zevachim 19b sv “Moshe V’Aharon”), which  Rabbi Zev Volf of Horadna (commentary on the Midrash) attributes to Rabbi Eliezer b’rabi Yehuda, that Moshe only served during that 7-day period. Perhaps this approach – rather than the one that he was an equal Kohen Gadol for 39 years – can help us resolve our quandary.

It is only after Moshe lets go, when Moshe resigns himself to the reality that he and Aharon have separate roles and that Moshe does not need to do everything, that he can once again serve in the role he was meant to serve, to bring the presence of God down to the people.

If his cup is too full, if he is trying to serve as leader and as Kohen Gadol, God’s presence can not be felt. Moshe is too distracted.

So why the week-long game? Why does Moshe need to be played in the same manner that he “played” God into thinking he wanted the role of leader at the Burning Bush?

Because 6-7 days is a decent amount of time to know whether a person likes something, whether it is something a person can go with, continue doing, or whether it is something that is just wrong.

For 6 days at the Burning Bush, Moshe raised every objection, and each one was answered. No one will believe you? Here are signs. You can’t speak? Your brother Aharon will be with you. You don’t know my name? Here it is. Pharaoh won’t believe you? I have a plan.

Moshe holds out for six days, and on the last day he throws in the zinger, “Eh, I never wanted the job to begin with.” Moshe, how could you say such a thing to God?

Therefore Moshe is given the message twice – once at the beginning of his career, and once at the end of his career. You never wanted the job – and it took you six days to actually say the truth? Now that you want the job of Kohen Gadol, or the right to go into the Land, it will take six days until God reveals the truth to you.

At the same time, you need to understand that it’s not your destiny. There are other factors at play. Aharon is Kohen Gadol because you can’t double up. And you can’t lead the people in to the Land, because that role requires a different kind of leader – a person who lives in the trenches, who identifies with the people in a way you could not when your leadership was called into question. Rashi on Devarim 2:16 says that God did not communicate with Moshe in a significant way for 38 years. He only got his last hurrah and final communication with God when he was about to die.

Be a straight shooter, know your role, don’t seek more than necessary, understand where your strengths fit into your destiny, and carve out a life that puts together all of these ingredients. These are the important lessons we can learn from Moshe’s occupational revelation at the beginning of Parshat Shemini.