B'Terem - The Drama of Immediacy

Parshat Vayigash

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The word “Terem” or “B’Terem” (‘just before’) appears in the Torah close to twenty times, sometimes serving as a dramatic preposition enhancing a narrative tale, setting the stage for the unfolding drama that is most riveting.

                

“Terem” Lot’s guests  were to retire for the night, the people of Sedom gathered at Lot’s house. (19:4) “Terem” Avraham’s servant finished speaking his condition/prayer, Rivkah emerged. (24:15,45)

                

Yitzchak instructed Eisav to prepare food for him, so the son could earn a blessing “B’terem” his father dies. (27:4) Yitzchak finished eating Yaakov’s food and completed his encounter with Yaakov “B’terem” Eisav returned with his prepared meal. (27:33)

                

The brothers saw Yosef from a distance, and b’terem his arrival, they plotted to murder him. (37:18)

                

Yosef’s two sons were born b’terem the famine years arrived. (41:50) Perhaps the drama here comes in the added drive given to Yosef to succeed in his food storage endeavors – the survival of his children.

                

Finally, in our parsha, when Yaakov learns that Yosef is alive, he declares “I will go and see him b’terem I die.” (48:28)

                

Judging from Yitzchak’s estimation of his own death, we can see that while the premonition of death runs in the family, the estimation of time until departure is typically way off. Yitzchak lived another 57 years, and it will turn out that Yaakov will live another 17 years.

                

So why did these men think they were going to die? Rashi says (27:2) that when one gets to within 5 years of the age of death of a parent, one needs to begin setting one’s house in order. It is a good litmus test for one’s survival. Since Sarah lived to 127, Yitzchak’s mortality radar started blinking at 123.

            

The Midrash also tells us in a number of places (see Tosafot Yevamot 61b) that Rivkah lived as long as Kehat. Since he lived to 133 (Shmot 6:18), clearly Yaakov’s mortality radar screen was similarly blinking when he was 130.

                

But is that really what’s on his mind? He seems a lot more pessimistic than merely thinking about his mother’s age of demise when confronted with his age-question by the curious Pharaoh.  (47:8)

                

Considering that Yaakov has thought Yosef to be dead for 22 years, it was never his intention to hold out on giving up on life until he saw Yosef again. So what is a proper explanation for his stating “I will see Yosef b’terem I die.”  Clearly he thinks he is about to die for other reasons, and seeing Yosef is now going to be a bonus in what has otherwise been, in his own words to Pharaoh, “'The days of my life have been few and hard.” (47:9)

                

Some of the commentaries say Yaakov meant, “Though my years have not even come close to those of my father and grandfather, it’s been a rough life.” Radak takes this to mean that Yaakov was worn out. He felt weak and had a premonition that his days were numbered.

                

Yaakov was a man of truth. And the truth is that he suffered from the debilitating mind-game that overtakes people who have given up on life. I had a conversation this week with someone whose father recently passed away, and he told me that his father was an avid traveler who never thought about how old he was until he had a mind-shift that told himself, “I’m old.” This man felt that as soon as his father focused on his turning 90, that was the beginning of the end. He told me of a woman he knows who is 107, but lives every day to the max. Her age is not a focus of her existence. Because her focus is on her life, and not on how much closer she is to the grave.  This was certainly true of Alice Herz-Sommer, the pianist Holocaust survivor  (subject of the documentary “The Lady in Number 6”) (see embedded video at the end), who passed away this past February at age 110. What an amazing attitude she had – her age was irrelevant to her.

                

The drama unfolded by the word “B’terem” shows us that Yaakov was literally at death’s door. He had sold himself down the river. He was done with life. But the news of Yosef’s success gave him a new sense of purpose, so much so that he didn’t even realize that he had given himself a new lease on life. In 45:27 we see that Yaakov’s spirit was revived. And in 45:28, he still thinks he’s about to die.

                

But the shift has reversed itself. Yaakov, in his heart, and perhaps in his mind as well, is looking forward to seeing Yosef. Looking forward to hearing the story, whatever story he’ll hear. Looking forward to meeting any grandchildren he may have. But as he’s making the shift, he has the sense of urgency, the sense of immediacy, that death will come very soon on account of every other factor of life that has brought him to this point.

                

The hope is that all people in that later stage of life can tap into an urgency of finding amazing things to live for. The mind game that says that at 75,80,90,100 “I’m just getting started!” can hopefully provide a very necessary ingredient and attitude (and “chiyus!”) that will lead to good health and mindset as seniors embrace the different stages of the second half of life.

Yosef's Pharaoh: Old or Young?

Parshat Miketz

By Rabbi Avi Billet

We are well aware of the ages of Yosef and Yaakov in their journeys  through Egypt. Yosef was 17 when he was sold, 30 when he stood before Pharaoh, and 39 when his brothers came to Egypt looking for food.

                
Yaakov was 108 when Yosef was sent to Egypt, and he tells Pharaoh in Vayigash that he is 130, after Pharaoh asks him “How old are you?”

                
The question is, how old was this Pharaoh? Not knowing which of the Egyptian Pharaohs he was, nor exactly when Yosef was elevated to viceroy, we can not say with any certainty.

                
But in reading the narrative, the possibility lends itself that Pharaoh was much younger, in line with the reality that some of the Pharaohs were boys when they assumed the leadership of ancient Egypt.

                
Does it really matter how old he was? Probably not. But his age, especially if he was much younger, does explain many of the questions we may have in trying to understand how Pharaoh took such a liking to Yosef so quickly.

                
His impetuousness caused him to throw his Chief Cupbearer and Chief Baker into prison. And even such a youthful obstinance could call for the death of his Chief Baker. Especially if he relies heavily on the advice of others. 

                
He celebrates a birthday. He doesn’t trust any of his advisors when it comes to interpreting his dream. He meets Yosef, a young, handsome, seemingly trustworthy man. He develops an instant accord with him, and takes his advice to such an extent that he gives Yosef the keys to the kingdom putting him in charge of all the food for the years of Plenty.

                
Was Pharaoh incapable of using someone in-house? Was he unable to supervise the efforts himself?

                
If we view him as a youth, relatively inexperienced, we can understand why Pharaoh feels the way he does towards Yosef. Everyone else who speaks to him patronizes him. Everyone else thinks they are working in his best interest. And he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like being babied, being pampered, and being treated as if any idea which he thinks of won’t work because he is merely a youth.

                
Yosef comes along, and treats the king in the manner the king wants to be treated. As a human being. As an equal. As a king. As a ruler. Especially one who is capable of making his own decisions.

                
In a sense, we can suggest that Pharaoh is looking to make Yosef as the father-figure he is lacking in his life. Yosef even states, when he reveals himself to his brothers, “God has made me a father to Pharaoh, and a master over all of Egypt.” (45:8) And this is why, when Yosef makes his suggestion to Pharaoh, that Pharaoh should appoint a man over the food undertaking (41:33), putting in Pharaoh’s hands alone the decision of whom to choose – not making it dependent on the insights of his advisors – Pharaoh is enamored and enraptured and feels Yosef will be the best person to fill the role. He’ll be a personal confidant to Pharaoh, an outsider who understands the king, who has been through a different kind of school of hard knocks (though for Yosef it was prison, while for Pharaoh it was taking control of Egypt at such a young age).

                
I can’t prove this theory. The only evidence I’ve found referring to Pharaoh’s age actually has him as a much much older man (see Torah Shleimah on 47:8) – but there is no evidence in ancient Egypt (that I am aware of) to support an over 100-year old Pharaoh.

                
The lesson to take from this is either that young people need mentors, or that they need to be given a chance. If Pharaoh was younger, and was looking to Yosef to be his mentor, the relationship worked splendidly.

                
And if, in fact, Yosef was younger, then he was given the chance he needed to exercise his talents in a field where he could shine. The opportunity afforded to him by Pharaoh may have come from an attitude that says, “I’ll give this kid a chance. And if he messes up, he’s expendable. But if he proves himself, and the first impression he has given is correct, then we will all benefit from his success.”

                
Based on how the tale of Egypt’s, and the world’s survival at that time follows in the Torah, it seems everyone did benefit from Yosef’s success.

                
If only the world can still acknowledge what Yosef (or those who identify with his nationality) contributes to the world, the Jewish people and the State of Israel would be appreciated by all of humanity.

Of Butler(s) and Baker(s)

Parshat Vayeshev

by Rabbi Avi Billet

After discovering questions that never bothered me before, and using certain learning skills acquired in classes taught by the late Rabbi Mordechai Breuer, a new approach to the tale of the dreams Yosef interprets at the end of our parsha became apparent. Wonderfully, some of these ideas are also shared by Abravanel and Alshikh (and others) – both of whose interpretations of chapter 40 are essential.

                

When the Torah describes for us the circumstances surrounding Pharaoh’s sending his servants into prison, the verses become inexplicably repetitive.

1.       The king of Egypt’s butler and the baker sin to their master, the king of Egypt.

2.       Pharaoh gets angry at his two officers: the officer of the butlers, and the officer of the bakers.

3.       He placed them in the holding cell (mishmar) of the officer of butchers, to the prison (beit hasohar) where Yosef is imprisoned.

4.       The officer of butchers appointed Yosef [to be] with them, and he served them, while they spent days [yamim] in the holding cell [mishmar]

5.       The two of them dreamed a dream, each his own dream, and each his interpretation, the butler and the baker of the king of Egypt, who are imprisoned in the prison (beit hasohar).

6.       Yosef came to them in the morning and saw they were perturbed.

7.       And he asked the officers of Pharaoh, that were with him in the holding cell (mishmar) of the house of his master saying, “Why are your faces so upset today?”

The most notable changes in the text from verse to verse are a. the difference between referring to the singular baker and butler (verses 1,5) and the “officers over many” (verses 2,7), b. the sin (verse 1) vs. Pharaoh’s anger (verse 2), c. the location of imprisonment – a beit hasohar (2^nd half of 3, 5) vs. a mishmar (1^st half of 3, 4, 7), d. the nature of the prison location – beit hasohar is where Yosef was at the end of chapter 39, while the mishmar seems to be a private prison in the house of the officer of butchers – Yosef’s former master, e. those who work for the king of Egypt (verses 1,5) vs. those who have a relationship with Pharaoh (verses 2,7).

                

I am unfamiliar with Rabbi Breuer’s teachings on this chapter. But I would imagine his either saying there are two aspects (shtei bechinot) to what is going on here or two different strings of action. If two aspects – one is on the micro level in terms of what happened to two specific workers, while the macro is the significance for the future of the nation of Israel, when Yosef, who is destined to be king, approaches people who are light years ahead of him politically, but who will be serving him (if they survive) within a short time.

                

If there are two different strings of action, there is a single butler and a single baker, each from a full team of butlers and bakers, who sinned in some manner against the king. They are thrown into a prison for political prisoners, one from which there is theoretically no escape. Their overseers, officers, are also punished (after all, they bear responsibility for the flaws of their underlings), but are sent to a minimum security place called a mishmar. Because the mishmar is in Yosef’s master’s home, and because the officers were high ranking, the officer of butchers wants them to be pampered while in prison, so he takes Yosef out of the inescapable jail (beit hasohar) in order to be in the minimum security place (mishmar) from which cases are heard and people are given a chance at being reinstated to their former positions.

                

There are certainly commentators who will suggest this whole exercise is a waste of time because the butler and the baker are the same persons as the Officer of the Butlers and the Officer of the Bakers.

                

And yet a careful study of the verses does leave one wondering why there is so much repetition. Was Yosef wrong, and therefore punished by God, on account of asking the Officer of Butlers to remember him to Pharaoh? Or was his request reasonable, and the Officer of Butlers forgot (as people often do) in the heat of the moment? Was the timing perhaps not right for Yosef to get out of prison? Had he gone out then, what options would have been before him? To work for Potiphar (not great, on numerous levels), to work for someone else (also not great), to go home (??? – what makes him think Pharaoh would ever send him home?). All options would have played against his getting a direct audience with Pharaoh and being subsequently appointed as viceroy. And remember that the main reason he gets that audience is because the officer of Butlers remembers him to Pharaoh.

                

Whether there are two aspects to the tale, or two strings of action, the consideration that Yosef did everything correctly and that he was not a victim of circumstance any more than he was a tool in God’s Divine Plan needs revisiting. We don’t necessarily know why Yosef is thrown in a pit by his brothers and later into a prison-pit. But all of his adventures were meant to harden him and train him to be capable of rising to the position of viceroy when he was ready.

This is the story of our people. Sometimes we look at events in our lives, and they don’t make sense. Or on our own micro level, they are difficult to comprehend. But if we can recall that we are all pieces of a much more macro image of the story of the Jewish people, perhaps we can sense that our lives matter, and that all the pitfalls and trials we undergo are cogs in the great wheel that will ultimately make our people ready to embrace the Final Redemption.

Fear of the Unknown

Parshat Vayishlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Yaakov sends messengers to Eisav telling Eisav his story about having lived with Lavan and having amassed wealth. Perhaps Yaakov is indicating his intent to put the past behind them. “I am happy to share my wealth with you, and I hope you are well. I am your servant." It could be Yaakov hopes not to see Eisav at all.

The messengers come back with the news that “we ‘came’ to your brother, to Eisav, and he is ‘going’ to you accompanied by 400 men.” Alshikh explains “coming” implies closeness – how Yaakov’s servants intended to approach Eisav - while “going” implies distance, perhaps indicating the attitude Eisav was bringing to his encounter with Yaakov.

Where was Eisav coming from? Some suggest he was at home, with no intent to come until he heard Yaakov was on his way (Sforno, Ibn Ezra) But what was his intent? This is unclear: he’s simply “coming” (Ramban); he’s coming to fight because he hates you (Rashi and many others); he is happy about your return and is bringing 400 men to honor you (Rashbam, Chizkuni).

Certainly the indication of the verse is that Rashbam and Chizkuni are correct, and that the fear of battle was all in Yaakov’s mind. The encounter certainly includes no ill intentions, Eisav greets Yaakov warmly with hug and kiss, as he is gracious and magnanimous.

Why then was Yaakov afraid?

He may have been fearful for his life, or as Rashi, etc suggest, he had a concern either that he would be killed, or that he'd be forced to take a life in self-defense.

But the man had been promised by God that He would protect him and return him home safely! Where is Yaakov's faith in God?

If Adino HaEtzni (Shmuel II 23:8) killed 800 men by himself! Yaakov, who fought with an angel, is afraid of 400 men?! (R Chaim Paltiel)

The Midrash tells in the name of Resh Lakish and Rav Yanai that each of the 400  men was a “man” like Eisav – in charge of 400 men each. This suggests he had at least 160,000 people. This is reason to fear.

There are other suggestions of why Yaakov feared: Eisav had merits from honoring his father, Yaakov hadn’t fulfilled his promise to tithe in Beit El, or what Toldot Yitzchak suggests, that if Eisav seems to be coming to attack Yaakov, it must mean Yitzchak is dead. The fear that Yaakov is then experiencing is that he will never see his father again.

Of course, the most likely reason for Yaakov's fear follows that of the Chizkuni – the fear comes from the unknown – Yaakov did not know if Eisav's intentions are good or bad.

And this confusion is noted in Yaakov's language when he says, “Please save me from my brother, from Eisav” meaning, he is pretending to be my brother, but he remains Eisav the hunter and trapper.

I don't think we have to look at Yaakov's fear from the perspective of the numbers. On paper Goliath should have defeated David. On paper Israel should not have defeated Arab armies in most of the wars they fought. And yet, the unexpected happened, and the underdog survived the conflicts.

Fear doesn't come from numbers. It comes from the unknown.

Eisav may have nice intentions. And maybe, in the end, the niceness comes out. But the bottom line is that it cannot be assumed. Preparation needs to be made for the worst. Because, too often, the worst turns out to be the reality. Eisav, unfortunately, is unpredictable. We don't know what he is thinking.

We may be “coming” with love and with the dove of peace, but Eisav may still be “going” to his own destination, irrespective of where we stand on that journey.

When random people are murdered or stabbed in Israel simply because the attackers view all Jews as aggressors who deserve this physical assault, the fear that emerges from those at a bus station or a train station is that of the unknown. Will anything happen today?

Yaakov needs to carry his fears, because he does not know what his adversary is thinking or has going for him: the other side may be more worthy in the eyes of God, maybe we haven’t kept our promises to God, maybe we’ve strayed so far from our Father in Heaven that he is “dead” to us. We must take precautions that these not become true for us. Recommit to God, keep our word.

For the sake of survival, our brothers and sisters in Israel and around the world surely must subscribe to the fear Rashi ascribes to Yaakov, “That I will be forced to kill someone in self-defense” – as Golda Meir articulated when she said, “We can forgive the Arabs for killing our sons, but we can’t forgive them for forcing us to kill their sons.”

But the rule of “when one comes to kill you, you must rise to kill him first” is essential for survival. Without it, we are all sitting ducks.

The Kli Yakar summarized Yaakov’s thought process: "May Hashem be with me and protect me from those who show themselves to be helpers and loved ones but who truly have hatred embedded in their hearts."

Facing the unknown can be frightening, even for the God-fearing, and even for those who are righteous in their ways. But when we feel those we encounter harbor hatred in their hearts, it becomes our challenge, like Yaakov, to be prepared for the worst, while we continue to hope for the best. 

Yaakov's Thanksgiving Meals

Parshat Vayetze

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In the aftermath of a horrific tragedy in Israel, a letter composed by widows of the murdered gave comfort to so many because they have a life-focus that appreciates the role God plays in their lives.

Combine that focus with a nod to Thanksgiving, and we proceed.

            
While the meals in the book of Bereshit share a common theme of thanksgiving – Avraham and Lot are appreciative of their guests, Avraham celebrates his son’s birth, Yitzchak makes peace with Avimelekh, and tries to celebrate his relationship Eisav when sending him to prepare a meal – Yaakov’s meals are a little more suspect.

            
Some argue that the meal served to Eisav was acelebratory meal to seal the deal over what was a cash purchase of the birthright. We assume Yaakov partakes of the meal at his wedding. And he eats with Lavan when they part ways at the end of our parsha.

            
Perhaps the first one can be viewed as a thanksgiving. But can we say the same for the wedding and the meal with Lavan?  There is a “Mishteh” celebration at his marriage to Leah, but none when he marries Rachel. Why?

             
The Midrash Sechel Tov explains that there was only fare at Leah’s celebration because Lavan had “bought” the guests. Everyone knew he was a trickster. No one wanted to come. But he reminded them that they had been blessed with water ever since Yaakov’s arrival (recall the stone on the well episode). He therefore planned to marry Leah to him first to preserve his presence in Aram. He convinced everyone to give gifts so Yaakov would think all was legitimate, and then he took the gifts and sold them to pay for the drinks of the “mishteh” [Avraham made a “mishteh gadol” – which implies more than just drinks – just like Achashveirosh in the story of Esther.] The Toldos Yitzchak claims that Lavan was cheap, and “only” served drinks, while the Daas Zekenim suggested Lavan’s plan was to get Yaakov drunk so he would not notice Leah was standing where Rachel should have been.

            
If Lavan was so cheap, why have the party at all? Because, Malbim explains, Lavan needed people to agree to the "rule" he was making up that the older daughter marries first. He had never mentioned it before because it was made up to justify his behavior. And with everyone around agreeing, Yaakov would never suspect such a public rouse.

            
This is why there was no celebratory meal after the marriage to Rachel. Yaakov was stuck in Lavan-town for another seven years. That’s nothing for him to celebrate. And there was no way people were going to contribute again to help Lavan make a second party. They had participated in a sham celebration as a charade, had already given their gifts, and didn’t even get food to show for their gift. There was no real celebration.

            
The meal Yaakov shares with Lavan, after telling Lavan why he finds him to be despicable is more of the sealing of a cold-peace between nations that hate each other but just don’t want to fight anymore.

            
Yaakov invites them, as Radak says, “So they can eat together to remember their treaty, just before they part ways.”

            
Lavan leaves in the morning. We never hear from him again. How did he feel? Was he at peace? Or was he stewing over the peace he was coerced into making? We don't know. But we do know that he is out of the picture, and as far as we know he doesn't cross the line he agrees never to cross.

            
Is it a celebration for Yaakov? Is it really a Thanksgiving meal?

            
In a sense it is! Lavan agrees never to bother Yaakov again, and as far as we know, he doesn't! Whether he is upset about how it went down – he remains out of the picture and he and Yaakov have peace between them!

            
Every Thanksgiving is an opportunity for us to express our gratitude for the good in our lives, and for the existence we can enjoy if we put the past behind us and move on with our lives. We don't forget the past, but we move on with the status quo. Or we try to improve the status quo with the materials and opportunities that lie before us.

            
Lavan didn't like what he had to hear, but he did recognize that Yaakov had a right to move on with his life and that after 20 years of struggling with one another, that it was time to move on.

            
When real peace was made, Yaakov was so ready to let bygones be bygones that he viewed all his adversaries as his "brothers." For Yaakov, this was a real Thanksgiving. A real blessing. He was now in charge of his own destiny and Lavan would never stand in his way again.

            
The State of Israel deals with Lavan on a regular basis. Lavan says “everything you have and worked for is mine mine mine.” Lavan cares more that Yaakov suffer than he cares to look in his own backyard to address the suffering of his people that is in his hands to prevent or deal with.

            
When Lavan has to go out on his own and create his own destiny, he can use his experience to make his life better. The ball is in his court.

            
Until today’s Lavans decide to acknowledge the celebratory meal of peace, and, if need be, live a cold-peace just because “none of us want to fight anymore,” the objective we yearn for will not be achieved. And it will be Lavan’s fault.

Just as the forefathers had their Thanksgiving meals celebrating specific events, we too have Thanksgiving and God in our lives to be thankful for. We mourn for lost life. But we continue to look forward to the day when Thanksgiving is not just a once a year celebration, but a year-round celebration for the eternal peace that will one day settle upon the Holy Land.

Aftermath of Har Nof Terrorist Attack

I received a tremendous amount of good feedback for this speech. And much encouragement to post it to this blog. While I certainly don't have answers, and I continue to mourn with klal yisrael, if anyone finds comfort from these words, that is a blessing. 

Toldos: A Time To Mourn, a Time to Live

          This has been a very difficult week. For all of us. There were more people attacked yesterday. Who knows what today will bring?

          Who would ever think that just going to shul, a normal procedure for many of us on a daily basis, could become an act that we might associate with a horrifying tragedy? (so many possible links...)

          We must all take, teach and spread an important language lesson.

          When Jews are murdered because they are Jews, we don’t record with “profound sorrow” their passing. We don’t mourn the “death” of the deceased. And we certainly don’t say ברוך דיין האמת.

          We record with “horrifying pain” their murder. We mourn for the “evil crime perpetrated” against the murdered  and against all of כלל ישראל – we cry with their families, with 25 orphans, with tens of grandchildren who no longer have grandfathers, with 4 unexpectant widows. And with all of אחינו בני ישראל. And instead of Blessing the Dayan HaEmet, the true judge, we cry out HASHEM YINKOM DAMAM. May GOD AVENGE THEIR BLOOD!! That their murderers are dead is fitting. But their damage is done. And most sadly, it cannot be undone.

          I have a very hard time swallowing the idea that these murders are brought about by a דיין האמת. I believe terrorists have free will, and they behave independent of the Will of the דיין האמת. It’s a struggle to consider that life and death are written on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur – is this really what God had in mind?

          We also mourn for a police officer – Zidan Sayif. Not a Jew. But an Israeli hero nonetheless. Who gave his life to save his fellow Israelis. Rav Ovadiah Yosef, Z”L in one of his later teshuvos – when asked if a prayer could be said in a synagogue for a Druze soldier who was killed in the line of duty in defense of the State of Israel – wrote the following:

          The Druze believe in one God. They are not idolators. They believe in the concept of the soul. They enlist in the IDF, and put their lives on the line to protect the citizens of Israel. They abide by the 7 Noachide laws. They are included in the righteous gentiles of the world. ABSOLUTELY PRAY FOR THEM.

          As one headline I saw said, “Israel’s latest hero isn’t even Jewish.”

          So let us save the blessings for the Dayan HaEmet for when He in His own ways ends a life. But when Jews are murdered, we MUST MUST MUST CALL EVIL FOR WHAT IT IS, AND DEMAND OF GOD TO ENACT VENGEANCE AGAINST MURDERERS and those who send them to perform their despicable acts. Just as we say for victims of the Holocaust, Hashem Yinkom Damam, and we say Y’mach Sh’mam V’Zichram about their murderers, the same appelations apply to victims of terrorist aggression and those who perpetrate the same. Who “excuse” their barbaric behavior as a “natural response to the occupation.” There is nothing natural about the use of meat cleavers and machetes. Any human being who excuses this kind of behavior has no credibility and no shred of humanity.

          My sister shared with me a note written by the widows of (Hashem Yinkom Damam) Rabbis Kalman Levine, Moshe Twersky, Aryeh Kopinsky, Mr. Avraham Goldberg,  imploring ALL OF ACHEINU BNEI YISRAEL to dedicate this Shabbos, Parshas Toldos, as a יום של אהבת חינם. A Day Of Baseless Love for our Fellow Jews. Charging us to avoid senseless quibbles, speaking lashon hara and rechilus – gossip and slander. Speaking ill of one another. I am sure this is something we can all do, as they put it – as an עילוי נשמת the souls of their murdered husbands, fathers, grandfathers.

          It shouldn’t take tragedy or a response to tragedy for us ALL to commit to this. But at least for today, let us honor this request.

          In our parsha today we read of two instances where someone was fearful for his life – each responded to the concern in a different way.

          Yitzchak was worried that if people found out he was married that they would kill him and take his wife as the prize.

          Rivkah was worried that Eisav would make good on his promise to kill Yaakov after having lost his intended bracha through seeming deception.

          Yitzchak lived amongst his enemies after discovering the threat to his life, and eventually moved to a town not too far away. Yaakov chose to run away, to let time heal the wounds, so that when he would eventually return, bygones would be bygones.

          The eventual confrontation, in both cases, went surprisingly well.

          In our parsha, after Yitzchak is first given asylum, then thrown out of Gerar because of his financial success, Avimelekh finally turns to Yitzchak to make peace. After Yitzchak counters “WHY ARE YOU HERE – YOU HATE ME?” Avimelekh explains his reasoning because, as he puts it, רָאוֹ רָאִינוּ כִּי־הָיָה יְקֹוָק עִמָּךְ. We see God is with you.

          In Parshas Vayishlach, if you ignore the Midrash for a moment, we see that Eisav is more than cordial at his reunion with Yaakov. He even appears to be magnanimous – telling Yaakov he doesn’t need the gifts Yaakov gave him, inviting Yaakov to live with him in Seir. It’s an incredible twist from what we’d expect.

          What happened? Why would these sworn enemies make peace? Did they get religion? Avimelekh mentions God. Eisav says יש לי רב – which probably doesn’t really mean “I got me a rabbi.”

          I think that for both of these men, TIME gave them the element of perspective. Avimelekh was able to see that fighting with Yitzchak was not to his benefit. If the Jew was successful financially and would only be contributing to his nation’s economy, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to expel him from [Spain, Portugal, England, Germany, Palestine, Israel...] Gerar.

         

          Eisav took an honest assessment of his assets 20 years after Yaakov left and saw he had a significant family, his nation was well under way in its formation, and he had actually done well financially. He owed his success to the blessing he received, and of course, to his own prowess, strength and talents, which were best served at creating and building, rather than in complaining and destroying.

          The Jews in Israel are not going to move to an outskirt city – like Yitzchak did in moving to Nachal Gerar. They’re not going to leave the country, as Yaakov did in fleeing to Charan. The recognition of ראו ראינו כי היה ה עמך, and that יש לי רב have to be reached by the Arabs in the land. I believe that the policies of the State of Israel reflect that they recognize these truths about the Arabs. The Arabs aren’t going anywhere, and their religion (when practiced peacefully) is respected. But it takes two to tango. And we continue to wait for TIME to help them come around to the reality that our People are not going anywhere, and that Judaism is an honorable and peaceful religion, that Jews don’t resort to violence to make a point.

          But we will respond to provocative violence with force, because we must. As Golda Meir once put it - "I understand the Arabs wanting to wipe us out, but do they really expect us to cooperate?"

          Koheles says לכל זמן. And I think we can say that only time will tell what will be. Will the events in Har Nof be a turning point in terms of how Israel views its security concerns? Will the world recognize that they who have supported the Palestinians are on the wrong side – because this is what they are supporting?

          When CNN and the BBC can be called out over and over and over for their biased reporting on this story – equating the death of the murderers by police with the death of theirvictims, declaring the attack having taken place in a mosque, suggesting all Israelis (including babies) are like combat soldiers worthy of being targetedby terrorists in their struggle, telling Naftali Bennett that holding up apicture of a murdered Jew is offensive while they posted pictures – mostlystaged, fake, or lifted from Syrian conflicts – of dead Arabs throughout the summer – when normal media calls them out for their buffoonery and malice, this is an incredible turn. Will it be a turning point? For CNN – the Chamas News Network – probably not. But good people are taking notice.

          Most importantly, will the decent people in the Arab world take the perspective of the Druze – embrace their citizenship in Israel, be proud of their country, denounce terrorism, change their rhetoric, recognize that if they can only see what Avimelekh saw – that the Jews have lowered their infant mortality rate, have raised their life expectancy age, have improved their medical care, have brought great blessing to the Land, have made a wasteland much more than just inhabitable, have provided a free society where they can live, raise families, practice their faith and fulfill a human purpose on Earth of being a contributing member of society – will they oust the evil from within them?

          Only time will tell.

          While people who are hated are discussed in theoretical cases throughout the Torah, there are three individuals who are specifically hated using the word שנאה: Yitzchak is hated by Avimelekh. Leah feels hated as a wife. And Yosef is hated by his brothers. Before the sun sets on the book of Bereshis, all of these hatreds are resolved. Peace with Avimelekh is achieved. Yaakov has seven children with Leah and is buried with her. Yosef and his brothers reconcile.

          Hatred can lead to peace. It is possible.

          My sister who lives in Israel shared with me a nice story that perhaps is a demonstration of this: Someone she knows shared a tidbit from her morning on Thursday, when she was in a bakery in Jerusalem and noticed she was standing behind Natan Sharansky. She told him she had just cited from his book this week in a class she was teaching on Sefer Tehillim, sharing his inspiring story of how he had kept a tiny book of Tehillim with him at all times, even when he had to struggle with the authorities to get it back. At that point, Sharansky smiled, reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a tiny (palm-sized) tattered book of Tehillim. Stunned, she asked him “Do you carry that wherever you go?” Sharansky didn’t even pause and he replied “Actually, it carries me!” We know his story. For him, hatred turned to peace when he was given his freedom and he was able to emigrate.

          My father went to Israel for half a day to make shiva visits to the four families in Har Nof. His report to his children written after his visits, which he sent to us via email, began: “I visited all four families. They each received me very nicely. These are very religious people who have a lot of trust and faith in God. Therefore they have accepted God's judgment with love.”

          Their letter expresses – through very broken hearts – this love. Love of God, and love of Am Yisrael. If Sharansky is right, that his Tehillim continue to carry him, then let us tap into that truth. If we can honor the request of these incredible families and love and cherish one another, and take their model as an example of how to embrace God even in the most troubling and challenging of times, we will be doing our part to bring peace to the world. And in that merit, may the blessing achieved for Yitzchak and Yaakov in their conflicts with Avimelekh and Eisav be heaped upon all of us when the Goeil Tzedek helps God fulfill the prayer of ופרוש עלינו סכת שלומיך as the understanding of these tragedies becomes clear, and the ultimate peace for our People throughout the world is achieved.

Make Peace? But You HATE Me!

I usually write this at the beginning of the week, by Sunday night. So when events transpire during the week, I don't always get a chance to make it relevant (unless it's during an ongoing war). After the events of this past Tuesday, when 4 Jews and a Druze policeman were murdered by terrorists in a synagogue in Har Nof (and others were injured), this "dvar Torah" became even more relevant than I intended. There are no words of consolation to offer to the bereaved families. Am Yisrael cries and mourns with you.

Parshat Toldot

As the main character in the story of the book of Bereshit, our forefather Yitzchak gets all of one chapter before the tale switches its focus to Yaakov. Towards the end of chapter 26, Yitzchak is approached by Avimelekh, King of Gerar, with whom most of the prior encounters of the chapter resembled proverbial head-butts, and he is offered a peace treaty.

                

Yitzchak’s response is classic: “Why have you come to me? You hate me! You sent me out of [your land]?!” (26:27)

                

Unfazed by the bold accusation and criticism, Avimelekh and co. respond, “We have surely seen that God is with you, so we declare that an agreement should exist between us – between us and you – and we’ll forge a covenant with you, that just as we did not touch you, you will do no harm to us. We did only good to you and [we] let you leave in peace.” (26:28-29)

                

If only peace with the enemy were so easy to come by!

                

Some of the midrashim on these verses point to how Yitzchak used a tactic employed by his father, of straight unadulterated criticism. This kind of argument – pointing out the flaws without holding back – brings an honest second party to realize its ills, embrace their flaws, and come to appreciate, and even love the accusing party. In the case of Avraham, and now at least a half century later with Yitzchak, the method brings about an agreement to cease hostilities and to truly live in peace at least until death of either covenant-maker breaks the bond of agreement.

                

The Or HaChaim notes that Yitzchak was compelled to say what he said, not because he had any objection to making peace with them. On the contrary – Yitzchak was intent on living up to the covenant that had been made with his father. The reason why Yitzchak was surprised into essentially declaring “Why are you here?” is because they’ve given every indication until now that his success is what caused them to break any prior agreement.

                

In Yitzchak’s view, the hatred they’ve harbored towards him was on account of their jealousy. Or HaChaim notes what is “known” – that any hatred that is based on some reality dissipates only when that reality changes, except for the hatred that comes from jealousy. Hatred from jealousy doesn’t drop unless there is a complete overhaul in the perception of what causes the jealousy.

                

Yitzchak’s critique is biting, but as Rabbenu Bachaye points out, it opens the door for him to receive a point by point rebuttal, which he does accept in Avimelekh’s response. And, after the fact, we have no reason to suggest the peace made in this time was not honored until the Israelites went down to Egypt, if not later! (Mechilta on Beshalach suggests one of the reasons the Israelites did not return to the land (when leaving Egypt) through the land of the Pelishtim is because of this treaty!)

                

We pray for a time when the other nation within the Land, within the borders of the Land promised to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, can follow the model of Avimelekh. It is ok to be jealous of the success of the family of Yitzchak. It is even ok to have animosity due to that success. But there has to come a point in time when all the cards are put on the table and the realization hits that the best move is to just make peace with the descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.

                

Why? Because the other nation within those borders will come to the realization of “we see that God is with you,” and we want to honor any kind of treaty from the past that is mutually beneficial to all – that you (the Jews) can have the peace that you want and we (the other nations in the land) can benefit from the success and the bounty that you’ve brought to this land.

                

It’s a utopian vision for peace. But didn’t someone once say something like, “If you will it, it doesn’t have to be a dream?”

Dependence Must Lead to Independence

The Other Side of Owing Someone Is Turning A (non financial) Debt Into An Opportunity

Parshat Chayei Sarah

by Rabbi Avi Billet

               

In Avraham’s relationship with the Almighty, their connection is described in different ways in the Torah. In the beginning of Lekh Lekha He is “Hashem who appeared to him” (12:7). In the Covenant Between the Pieces (15:7) God describes Himself as the One Who “brought you out (“hotzateekha” - הוצאתיך) of Ur Kasdim.”

                

Some of the commentaries note that the language of “who brought you out” is reminiscent of Shmot 20:2 when God describes taking the Israelites out of Egyptian bondage (“hotzateekha”) – both reference God’s saving the subject of the statement from a dangerous situation.

                

At the Covenant of Circumcision, God referred to Himself using other names: “Kel Shakkai” (17:1). After making his treaty with Avimelekh, Avraham refers to God as “the God of the world” (Kel olam).

                

In our parsha, Avraham enjoins his servant first “With Hashem the God of the heavens and the God of earth,”  (24:3), and in response to the servant’s concerns that the maiden might not join him, Avraham says, “Hashem the God of the heavens, Who took me out  (“l’ka’chani” - לקחני) of my father’s household and from the land of my birthplace, and Who spoke to me, and Who swore to me that ‘I will give this land to your descendants,’” is the One who will guarantee your success in this mission.

                

It is amazing to see how Avraham views his relationship with God versus how God viewed the same relationship. Avraham has many superlatives for God, while God sees Himself as a savior and as having different names – one which means “Who has enough” as long as Avraham follows His ways (Shakkai – which is spelled with a dalet instead of the k’s used here).

                

What I find fascinating is the difference between God’s “hotzateekha” (I brought you out/saved you) and Avraham’s “L’ka’chani” (who took me out of my father’s house). Are they really saying the same thing?

                

Radak’s explanation of “L’ka’chani” is that “since I was taken from that home, God does not want me to return there.” The Toldos Yitzhak suggests that it is only “Because God took me out of there that I need to return to there to find a wife for Yitzchak. Had I remained there, obviously this task would have been much easier.” In other words, look at the repeating root word in the verse. “Since God l’ka’chani, you will go and v’lakachta (you will take) a wife for Yitzchak…”

                

The main message we can glean from the difference in language is the one articulated by Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch. God “took me” – and not “brought me out and saved me” – in order to make me into a vessel that could grasp and achieve God’s great purpose for humanity on earth.

                

It would seem that God viewed Avraham’s relationship as one in which “I did for you, now you owe Me.” Avraham, on the other hand, aimed to understand the purpose of that mission. It wasn’t as much, “What do I owe God in return for the kindnesses He did for me?” as much as it was “How can I understand God, and how can I make my relationship with Him become the primary focus of my life?”

                

There are great teachers, mentors, parents who might look back at their role in helping a child or a student. They may even think, “I saved this young person’s life” or “I gave this young person her first real chance” or “This young man owes everything to the assistance/training I gave him.”

                

In the event that they don't, they need to understand that there are different ways the other party will view that help or assistance. Some will look back at those early days and feel an eternal sense of gratitude. They may even be hampered from moving on because they may feel the gratitude they owe prevents them from branching out on their own.

                

Others may look at the opportunity of life skills they’ve been given as the tools which will help them achieve real independence. They’ll embrace their own stab at life with the attitude that “someone helped me get on my feet, and now I have to make the most of the gift of life that is mine to live. I have a mission to succeed, and I must take charge of my responsibility and shine in my own way, using my own unique talents, skills and abilities.”

                

As Avraham’s many adventures had brought him to the point of wealth and relaxation, he knew he owed much to God. But he also knew that his own efforts were highly significant in his achieving the esteem which followed him in his later years.

                

Both ingredients are important for the individual to succeed. But as each individual lives his or her own life, the person must be honored to see that the perspective of “saved me” really means “gave me the opportunity to try to make the most of my life.” 

It Can Be That Not Everything is Black and White

This is primarily a response to this article by Shoshanna Jaskoll, which was largely a response to this article/blog post of Rabbi Pruzansky (and what a maelstrom that opened up! - all based on what I believe were either misunderstandings, or more likely, agenda driven haters)

To understand anything, or to judge anything, context is very important. We’ve all heard the phrase “You had to be there” when a friend referenced a humorous anecdote. If we don’t understand or appreciate the context in which a good line was uttered, the joke is not only lost, but we, the listeners, feel as if we’ve been had. That story was certainly NOT amusing, if we hear it out of context.

Rabbis have surely taught that men and women can’t or shouldn’t be “just” friends. But what does that mean? Billy Crystal said the same thing in “When Harry Met Sally.” Did his character have a deeper understanding of the male mindset than rabbis?

Context plays a big role in understanding this thought. Should a man consider a woman to be his buddy, that he calls to hang out with on a Saturday night? If I were her husband, or if I were the wife of the man in the story, I’d view that relationship as odd. And even if both parties are single, unless they’ve gotten the “this relationship might go somewhere” off the table, because neither party is interested, one wonders what is going on.

Let us accept that it is possible that neither one is sexually interested in the other. So context matters – it is possible. And it is possible that if this man saw this woman in a state of undress, his reaction would be, “Would you please get dressed? You’re making me uncomfortable.”

There are men who see women in a state of undress on countless occasions during any given day, and they don’t view what they see as sexual. They are called doctors. And they are given a pass in Halakha called “Tarud B’M’lakhtam.” They are engaged in their work, and are not interested in seeing their patients as sexual objects.

I don’t preside over conversions, so I don’t know the standard or the protocol of the role of Beit Din when it comes to being present for the immersion of the converting individual.  But I read Rav Moshe Feinstein’s responsa (Yoreh Deah I:47) about how we know that unmonitored cow milk is kosher in the United States (and is never secretly swapped with, say, pig’s milk) because of a principle of “Yediah K’R’iyah” – that knowing is like seeing. One of the sources Rav Moshe brought to prove his point was our exact case – of a woman immersing for conversion, as discussed in Tractate Yebamot 45b. Tosafot there (last on the page) say that the Beit Din members are necessary for when she accepts Mitzvot (then and only then do they need to be present), but “obviously” they are not present in the room when she immerses (perhaps the female mikvah attendant is present) and when she emerges from the mikveh they “know” she immersed.

I absolutely agree that ONLY women should be involved in women’s immersion. I don’t understand the contrary view to Tosafot (if there is one). 

Having said that, I think we can consider giving the rabbis a little more credit than assuming they are all perverts who get kicks out of seeing all women who are about to join Am Yisrael as sexual objects. 

Certainly there are some “rabbis” who have proven this statement wrong over the last few years. But they are the overwhelming minority of rabbis, and they carried many red flags which were ignored in what should have been a better scrutiny of their too-personalized conversion processes.

Context matters. Most people who see a woman nursing in a public place don’t stare at her breast. They actually wish she’d cover up more. They don’t want to see her breast!

Ms. Jaskoll claims there are women out there who felt uncomfortable by the process. I will not deny that that is the case. And absolutely, if the stories I’ve read are true, there is a tremendous flaw in the system. And while the rabbi who said, “We don’t see anything. It’s only for an instant. There is no reason for her to feel uncomfortable” is clearly in the negative in the sensitivity department, there is still merit to what he says. The rabbis (if present they must be) want to see NOTHING – not a naked woman, and not even her hair above the water.

I’ve been present when a man converted, and the lights were turned out, he called to the rabbis when he was ready, and they counted to three, he dunked and they peaked in the room to see that they couldn’t see him above the water. 

Why that’s not acceptable for everyone is incomprehensible to me. 

And if indeed the rabbis need to ask certain questions while the person is in the water, on the verge of dunking, these questions can be asked through a microphone system that eliminates any reason whatsoever of being in the same space, however that might be defined, while the person feels "vulnerable" and "exposed." 

I am not sure why SJ had "a hard time commenting politely" to some of the things RSP mentioned. The first example about “Halacha, minhag, psak – a purely rabbinical role” does not suggest women’s points of view have no place. SJ even said herself “People far more learned in Jewish law than I am have suggested concrete alternatives with in Halacha” (though Rabbi Seth Farber, to whose opinion SJ provided a link, presents an emotional argument and not a halakhic one), and RSP was merely saying that the conversion process doesn’t have a problem that needs revision – read his point in context! He was saying that the system he has presided over has weeded out ulterior-motivated converts, and has produced Torah observant converts. No knock on women there. 

Further, that he is stepping down from a committee in which he would have to operate based on others’ rules has nothing to do with “women and converts.” A person who volunteers to work on a committee has every right to resign from such a position when the “rules of the game” of that committee change. Imagine saying, “I am committed to doing it this way, but please count me out if this system were no longer in place.” "I am happy to voluntarily serve as gabbai/president of the shul as long as the constitution of the shul goes unchanged. Once it changes due to Board input, I resign from my volunteer position." What could be wrong with that?

The rabbi may be uncomfortable with the Hatafat Dam ritual. But rest assured that every man upon whom I have performed it (I am mohel) has been told from the very beginning that this is going to happen. And while the thought may seem weird at the outset, once talked out and understood, it is not. So let’s please take this one off the table in the “not about YOU and YOUR comfort" line.

I am not suggesting I know what a woman feels. I do not. But I cannot accept SJ’s “It cannot be” statements.

To recap, she wrote what is included below in quotes:

“It cannot be that the same rabbis who insist that modesty laws be followed because men are so easily aroused then claim that there is no danger of arousal when a woman stands naked in a mikva.”

It can be. Just as a doctor sees a naked woman as a patient and not an object, and is not aroused (were he aroused with every woman, he’d really have to seek a different profession) it absolutely can be that there are rabbis who do conversions all the time and focus on the neshama and the person’s face, and have no interest in the fact that a naked woman is in a pool of water. A rabbi who cannot distinguish MUST recuse himself from participating in this aspect of conversion.

“It cannot be that the same Judaism that asks women to take into consideration — to the point of altering their behavior and dress — the needs and minds of men, does not require that men take into consideration the needs and minds of women.”

Again – context matters. If the rabbis are indeed seeing only the woman’s hair immerse, and are talking to her as a human being undergoing the most significant change in her life to date, then they are talking to a soul. Not to a woman who happens to be naked. That “reality” is irrelevant to their job – they are tarud b’m’lakhtam. If they are, God forbid, not able to distinguish, once again, they should recuse themselves.

“It cannot be that the same rabbis who tell a woman to be modest, act modest and feel modest then tell her to ignore and proceed to themselves invalidate that feeling of modesty!”

It can be that they don’t ignore modesty because they take every precaution to avoid the extreme awful stories SJ shared. Those she describes should not be in the conversion business.

Her conclusion: “Either men’s sexuality is such that women must take extreme care in dress and circumstance, or men can gain control over their thoughts and urges.”

With all due respect, Context changes everything.

“So, either release us from the responsibility of your sins, or listen to our voices and stop forcing us to betray those same standards of modesty you hold us to.”

No one forces a woman to convert. No one forces a woman to betray standards of modesty. The choice to convert is made either by someone who is sincere in one's efforts to get closer to Hashe, or who has an ulterior motive.

A woman is not forced to betray standards of modesty. When her conversion immersion is done properly, her dignity should remain intact, her modesty should be affirmed, and the entire immersion should be followed through with a Beit Din who don’t know her and ideally won’t encounter her in any other context (as RSP put it, let her sponsoring rabbi stay out of the immersion, and let him be the one who will encounter her in other contexts, just not this one).

Life is full of black, white, and much much much more gray. It cannot be that SJ's viewpoint is the only viewpoint out there, and that the way she sees things is the only way to see them.