The Two Hallels of Pesach

Not "whole" and "half"

Pesach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There are two Hallels (paragraphs dedicated uniquely to praising God) in the book of Tehillim (Psalms). One is called Hallel Mitzrayim (The Egyptian Hallel), and the other is called Hallel HaGadol (the Great Hallel).

Hallel Mitzrayim is the one we are most familiar with, Tehillim 113-118, while Hallel HaGadol is defined differently by different early Rabbinic authorities. Basically everyone agrees that it includes Tehillim 136 (Tosefta Taanit 2:17, Sofrim 18:3), while how far it extends in the chapters before and after Chapter 136 is debated in the Talmud Pesachim 118a. One view extends it into 135, while another view includes some (or perhaps all) of the Shir Hamaalots, which are chapters 120-134.

In Mesekhet Sofrim (ibid), the passage talks about the special “Song of the day” which is to be recited on the different holidays of the year. Hallel HaGadol (ch. 136) is designated as the special song of the last day of Pesach.

Before debating over the definition of Hallel HaGadol, the Talmud tells us in the name of Rabbi Tarfon that for the 4th cup of wine at the Seder, we recite all of Hallel (meaning Hallel Mitzrayim), and we also say Hallel HaGadol.

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi notes that there are 26 verses in Hallel HaGadol, corresponding to the 26 generations from Adam until the Torah was given, noting how “the world was sustained through God’s kindness for 26 generations” before the world changed with the Torah having been given to the Jewish people. The refrain ending each line in 136, “ki l’olam chasdo” – that His kindness endures forever, could also be understood to mean that His kindness is for the world (note to grammarians: I am aware that there is a difference between a “patach” and a “shva na” under the lamed!).

Perhaps this is why it is called the “Great” Hallel – because it talks so much about the greatness of God, Whose name has the numerical value (gematria) of 26 as well.

Both Hallels are part of our Haggadah. We say the full Hallel Mitzrayim – though broken up between “Maggid” and “Hallel” – at the Seder, and we also say Hallel HaGadol.

In its own way, one can argue that Hallel HaGadol (136) parallels Dayenu in the sense that a number of statements about God’s greatness are declared, concluding with a phrase that emphasizes God’s greatness, kindness to our people, and a reason to give thanks.

All told, both Hallels cover a range of topics and reasons to give thanks to God – mostly for the events of the past, but, in the case of the end of Hallel HaGadol, even until today. The conclusion of “God gives bread to all flesh” and “Give thanks to the God of the Heavens” are verses that indicate God’s role in our lives until this day.

Hopefully everyone has a place for the Seder and plans for the holiday. And hopefully through our recitations of these Hallels, which we should view as a privilege rather than as a burden tagged on to the end of the Seder, after the meal, we can come to an appreciation of the good we have in our lives. It is not always easy to see, between terror and anti-Semitism which continue to devastate our people around the world, and the struggles and difficulties many face on a day to day basis (in relationships, financially, etc.), that God is in our lives.

Hopefully, when we sit down at the Seder and thank all those who helped put it together, we can also give thanks and Hallel to God for sustaining us until this time, and having given us the opportunity to once again sing His praises because we appreciate the role He plays in our lives, every day. Even when things are bleak, there is good to be found. Both Hallels are meant to remind us of God’s role in the past redemptions, in our current sustenance, and hopefully in the not-too-distant future, in the final redemption.

Motzi Ra or Motzi Tov - Bringing Out the Best in Others

Parshat Metzora 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

When we encounter the parshas of Tazria and Metzora, our thoughts typically run to Lashon Hara (speech that brings people down), which is argued by the Talmud (Arakhin 15-16) to be the main impetus for the Biblical punishment of “tzara’at” afflicting a person back in the day (tzara’at’s seven causes will be discussed below).

The word “Metzora,” which describes the person carrying the disease of tzara’at is noted by the midrash and many commentaries as being a condensed form of the words “motzi ra” – to bring out evil. Some say the person became a metzora because of being "motzi ra" - bringing evil out of one's lips. Most will say that the idea of being “motzi ra” is meant to be the result of having tzara’at, that the person with the ailment gets the message as delivered through this God-sent spiritual disease, and makes a conscious decision to remove the evil-from-within which caused the individual to sin.

But there is also the possibility that the problem facing the Metzora, and one of the reasons why the disease comes is because the sin also brings out the bad in others. How does a victim of Lashon hora (slander and gossip) respond to people talking about him? Murder sometimes causes others to murder in vengeance. Swearing in vain promotes a culture in which people are not careful about their speech. For sins of immorality – if it only took one to tango, perhaps it wouldn’t bring out the evil in others. But it takes two to tango. Haughtiness or stinginess of the sinner causes others to feel belittled, to get angry, or to experience jealousy. Thievery may cause vigilantism, with people taking the law into their own hands.

And so, perhaps, we can all benefit from asking ourselves if we are doing our part to bring the best out of people, or are we, heaven forfend, bringing out the worst in others? All questions presented are being asked in no particular order. And yes, I’m talking to myself.

Parents: Do we encourage our children to make good decisions? Do we allow them to make bad decisions, so they can learn from their mistakes? Do we compliment them when they do well, so they don’t only hear criticism from us? Do we put them up much much more than we put them down? Do we make reasonable demands – religiously, academically, in the pursuit of hobbies? Do we express our disappointment with love and care, while explaining why sometimes bad choices, or irresponsibility may have fair and reasonable consequences? Are we overly-sarcastic (when it’s not a symptom of a sense-of-humor we share with our children)? Do we do our part to improve our own parenting skills – such as developing more patience, controlling our anger, learning the art of communication, and realizing that we teach more by example than anything else?

Teachers and educators: All the parenting questions. Plus. (Parents – we can all read these too!) Do we have patience for kids who learn differently, and at different paces? Do we recognize the differences that make each child unique? Do we know how recognize the beauty in each child? Do we know how to tap into a child’s strengths? Are we able to encourage creativity, and not stifle it?

Rabbis: Do we encourage positive speech and respectful dialogue in our shuls? Do we respect the fact that our members may have different political views, religious backgrounds, spiritual expectations and needs? Do we remember to be cautious of the rules of lashon hora when dealing with different personalities and the ways in which they sometimes conflict in shul-operations? Do we challenge those who don't normally serve as bal-tefillah or read the Torah to take a time-slot and take the lead of the davening? Do we encourage others to give a dvar torah in settings in which that would be acceptable (it doesn't always have to be the rabbi!) - such as at a shalom zachar, a seudah shlishit, Shavuos night?

Everyone not in these kinds of leadership roles: Are we good friends? Do we encourage good behaviors? Do we know when to set limits – to pull back and say, this conversation is not for me, these activities are not for me, I don’t agree with these decisions? Do we know when to say Yes and when to say No? Are we supportive when we need to be? For those with really close relationships – are we able express to our friends when we feel they’re doing things that are harmful to themselves or their children? Are we willing to listen (even if we disagree) when a friend raises points the friend is concerned about?

For all: Are we there for each other in the labyrinth of life?

May we all be blessed to be a Motzi Tov (one who brings out the good) in ourselves and in others, especially in those we love and care about the most

The Torah and... the Bearded Lady?

Before I started posting my weekly Dvar Torah to this blog, 
I wrote this article entitled Bald, Pure, and Loving It! 
This is the natural follow-up to that entry

Parshat Tazria

by Rabbi Avi Billet

I created a program several years ago, called ParshaDrama, in which I go to a school and present the weekly Torah portion to different grades through a combination of storytelling and dramatics – playing the roles of the various characters, while sometimes calling up some students to assist when there are multiple characters on the Torah’s storyline.

For Tazria, I typically call up volunteers in order to “point out” the kinds of blemishes that are described in the parsha, accompanied by an explanation of the process the person will now have to endure in order to be deemed “tahor” again.

Since I mostly deal with younger grades, I am often in a co-ed school with boys and girls together. 

Last week, immediately after presenting the parsha about the dedication of the Mishkan and the role of Aharon and his sons, including the deaths of Nadav and Avihu, one girl, who is in first or second-grade, asked me why I don’t include girls in the story. After accepting her critique, I told her I am unaware of Aharon having daughters. And I reminded her (with a smile… I was very nice) there are many “girls” in the stories in Bereshit, even if they are not as prominent as the “boys.”

It’s OK – I pick the girl volunteers to demonstrate many of the tzara’at afflictions of our Parsha, or for a unisex discussion about law in Mishpatim, as well as anytime I specifically need someone with a beard (e.g. some Kohen situations in Parshat Emor), because many of the girls are adept at bringing their ponytails round to front and tying them under their chins, aside from the female roles they play. It is an interesting point of note that the only person recorded by the Torah to have been afflicted with tzara’at is a woman (Miriam, in Bamidbar 13). It does not follow that tzara’at is a women’s disease any more than a men’s disease, as we encounter other “metzo’ra’im” (tzara’at inflicted individuals) in the rest of the Bible who are men as well.

Our parsha this week begins talking about the status of a woman who “has seed” and gives birth to a boy, or who gives birth to a girl. And while the parsha talks primarily about the generic “Adam” (human – male or female) who gets tzara’at, the Torah specifically mentions “a man or a woman” who have a “nega” (mark) on the head or on the beard. (13:29)

What? Is the Torah addressing the circus and the bearded lady (some interesting ladies have embraced their genetic disorder that causes facial hair to grow – amazing what you can find on Google)?

Rashi explains this strange language to mean that the Torah is distinguishing between tzara’at that occurs on hairy spots versus tzara’at that appears on skin where hair does not grow. Perhaps, on “the head” refers to women, who do not usually go bald, while on “the beard” refers to men, who usually (certainly in Biblical times) have facial hair. “The head” could refer to a bald spot (for men who suffer from hair loss) and “the beard” spot could refer to women who are usually naturally clean shaven.

Chizkuni simply says the head is speaking of the woman, while the beard speaks of the man. This explanation is eyebrow raising because the Torah generally follows the order of applying the first noun to the first noun (which are man and head) and the second noun to the second noun (which are woman and beard).

Alshikh ignores the cantillation mark which puts a significant pause between the man or woman (pause) - on the head or beard, suggesting that both man or woman is connected to “on the head,” while “on the beard” is a tag-on for the men, who are afflicted on their beard for not showing respect to other people (he explains what he means).

Or HaChaim explains the verse first saying that the word “or” as in “a man or a woman” is utilized to separate the experiences of the man and the woman, rather than using the word “and” which would otherwise suggest that the rule in this verse apply equally to man and woman on head and on beard – which it doesn’t, because, as he puts it, “a woman does not have a beard.” He concludes, however, suggesting that were it to be the case that a woman does grow a beard (I was right about the bearded lady!), the rules of the verse would apply to her equally. 

There you have it folks. Equality in the Torah. Men and women can both get the same affliction. And there is even no discrimination against women who grow beards.

While we yearn for a time when God’s presence will be felt and the laws of tzara’at will be relevant to our regular existence, we also pray that all of us – men and women – can behave in a manner that would never call for or cause anyone to get tzara’at, because that would mean that we fundamentally respect one another and look out for our fellow Jew and fellow human being in a manner befitting what should be our God-like natures.