To Walk in His Ways

Parshat Ki Tavo

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The bulk of Parshat Ki Tavo is occupied by the Tokhacha, the great Rebuke that is promised to the Israelite nation in exchange for their infidelity to God. Prior to the curses and promises of destruction there are 14 verses of blessing which, were we to keep our end of the deal, paint the Israelite existence in the Land as the most fantastic we could ever dream to experience.

            

In the middle of the blissful depiction of Divine Grace, we read, "The Lord will establish you as His holy people as He swore to you, if you observe the commandments of the Lord, your God, and walk in His ways." (Devarim 28:9)

            

The simple reading of this verse seems to be descriptive and straightforward. God will do "Y" for you on account of your having done "X." Nowhere does there seem to be a commandment in this verse. While not exactly a throwaway line, the phrase "walk in His ways" on a base level does not seem to be an instruction as much as it is an example of how to observe the commandments. In the original text, the phrase is two words, "V'halakhta B'drakhav."

            

Another example of this is the phrase "Zeh eili v'anvehu" (Shmot 15:2) – this is my God and I will glorify Him. In Mesekhet Sofrim 3:17, this verse is utilized to explain how a Jew should go the extra mile to fulfill mitzvot with nicer products rather than with inferior products. Some examples include: decorating the sukkah, finding the best lulav set, using the best materials (ink, quill, parchment, etc) when writing a Torah, mezuzah or putting together tefillin.

            

The original phrase was uttered by the people in the context of the Song of the Sea, and while perhaps not a throwaway line, it is certainly not viewed as a mitzvah! While the people may have accepted upon themselves a commitment to glorifying God, this does not turn their "chumrah" choices (stringencies) into an absolute requirement.

            

Similarly, the notion of "V'halakhta B'drakhav" could arguably be viewed in the same way. How does one best fulfill commandments? Or more accurately, how does one behave in the most complete and perfect fashion? Through walking in His ways. The same source in Mesekhet Sofrim (and Yerushalmi Peah 1:1) quotes Abba Shaul as saying, "Just as He is merciful, you should be merciful."

            

And yet Maimonides takes the verse and extracts what is, in his count, the 8^th commandment in the Torah: To Imitate God. Maimonides claims the mitzvah appears elsewhere as well – see Devarim 8:6, 10:12, 11:22, 13:5, 19:9, 26:17, 30:16 – and yet he uses our verse as his prime example of the mitzvah, utilizing the teaching of "Just as He is merciful…" which also appears in the Sifrei on Eikev to describe exactly how one walks in God's ways.

            

In describing this mitzvah, Ramban quotes the passage in Sotah 14a (Maimonides mentions it in passing) which further describes the imitation of God's ways as "clothing the naked, visiting the sick, comforting the mourner and burying the dead" each of which God did for Adam, Avraham, Yitzchak and Moshe respectively.

            

Considering the 7 other places where this idea occurs in the book of Devarim, it is hard to argue that "Walking in God's ways" should not be a mitzvah. Each verse in its context clearly says it is a mitzvah. But it is still curious that Maimonides chooses the phrase in 28:9 as the poster phrase for this mitzvah. The verse is not quoted in the entire Talmud. And were it to appear alone in the Torah, without the seven supporting verses, perhaps we would be able to argue that "walking in God's ways" is no more of a mitzvah than "this is my God and I will glorify Him." Meaning, it is a nice and helpful piece of instruction, but by no means one of the six hundred and thirteen commandments!

            

I think a difference between this verse and all the others is that 28:9 is the first mention of imitating God that appears after Moshe's big speech. Devarim 5-26 has been one long monologue of Moshe telling the people a mixture of narrative and commandment, perhaps lending itself to people thinking Moshe was adding things of his own accord. Perhaps people felt that "Moshe's 'throwaway lines' were added touches, but were not meant as commandments" because they did not see God's strings pulling Moshe's teachings.

            

Now that the big speech is over and Moshe is once again telling the people that he is quoting God, 28:9 is the first time he mentions to walk in God's ways. Maimonides is merely jumping on this appearance of the idea in order to make it clear to those with doubts that this is not a throwaway line – it is a commandment like any other, and it comes from God.

            

The preparations for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur require us to square away wrongs we have committed against our fellow man and wrongs we have committed against God. The mitzvah of imitating God is meant to help us accomplish both. If we are always being like God, we can not possibly wrong God. And if we follow the examples that the Talmud brings of how we are to treat man through imitating God, we will become the most caring individuals.

            

May we merit to utilize this mitzvah of imitating God to become the most wholesome people in our relationships with God and our fellow Man.

A Great, Wise, and Understanding People? Right...

Parshat Va'Etchanan

by Rabbi Avi Billet

We are now past Tisha B'Av, and our first Shabbos foray into the synagogue puts us in a position to hear this message from Moshe: "Behold, I have taught you statutes and ordinances, as the Lord, my God, commanded me, to do so in the midst of the land to which you are coming to possess.  And you shall keep [them] and do [them], for this is your wisdom and your understanding in the eyes of the nations, who will hear all these statutes and will say, 'This great nation is only a wise and understanding people.'" (Devarim 4:5-6)

            

I try not to live with blinders on. Which is why reading this triggers an exasperating throw of my hands skyward, along with a look heavenward, and a cry (sometimes aloud, but more often silent because no one is listening) of "Us? When will THIS happen?"

            

Did this happen a long time ago – perhaps during the time of David or Solomon? Did this happen during the time of the first or second Temples? Did this happen during the Talmudic Period? Does it refer to the historical anomaly of the kingdom of the Khazars?

            

It's great that the Kuzari was written by Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi. Would it ever have been written by someone from the "nations" described in the Torah?

            

The only "wisdom of this nation" I hear bandied around is the accusation of the Jews being the Illuminati, or that the Protocols are true. Of course both of these are nonsense. But when the headlines "amongst the nations" (when true) are about Jews who commit abominable deeds – especially Jews who are supposed to know better on account of their Jewish education and upbringing – the Torah (and I shudder to say this) seems to be out to lunch on reality.

            

Of course, the Torah is right. If the Jewish people would only "keep them and do them" – the commandments, that is – we would indeed be a wise and understanding people. A model to all. After all, thievery, physical abuse, cover-ups, dishonesty, slander, etc are all intolerable offenses which have no place in a world governed by Torah ideals.

            

But even so, our Public Relations would still need a lot of work. There are many cynical and skeptical people, Jewish and not Jewish, who believe the Torah mandates the stoning of adulterers (Vayikra 20) and the killing of minors (Devarim 21:20-21, 22:21-24), and the most heinous of punishments not for the perpetrators, but for the victims of sexual abuse (Devarim 22:29).

            

Anyone who makes these claims does not understand the magnitude of Torah knowledge as they look at the verse in its most simplistic translation, and have no concept of the Oral Torah, and thousands of years of rabbinic discussions addressing what these cases mean, and whether the punishments described in the Torah were ever carried out en masse or were more fixated on demonstrating the gravity of the sin, while life itself was valued.

            

The Talmud (Makkot 7) claims that courts did not exercise capital punishment. At worst, it was a very rare occurrence. And the conditions leading to such were almost impossible to attain: valid witnesses, proper warning, zero contradictions in testimony.

            

We live in a time when Sharia law, which takes some of the Biblical laws literally (or at least as prescribed in the Quran), and practices the worst kinds of corporal punishment, is on the rise in the world, in practice and acceptance, even in some Western countries.

Halakha, on the other hand, which has so many varying opinions and is a system which can help people live meaningful and fulfilling lives following various schools of interpretation, isn't growing beyond very small circles of Jews.

            

And it has become a major turnoff to many Jews who do not observe. This is wisdom? This is understanding? What are we doing wrong?

            

We are not as Jewishly educated as we ought to be. Even our rabbis and educators, and certainly a large majority of our flock do not have a mastery of Tanakh, Talmud and Halakhic literature.

            

We spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on the education of every child in his/her lifetime, yet we (and our children) can't read Hebrew, can't translate Hebrew, and have no patience to tackle a new text. We review the same laws every year, and we still don't know basic synagogue practice and basic holiday practice. Or what it means to live a life of "hatznea leches" – living a modest existence in which we do not call unnecessary attention to ourselves.

            

We preach about lashon hara, but we don't know the difference between a to'eles (discussion with a purpose) and what is pure besmirching and slander. Even as we wring our hands with dismay at the chillul Hashem, we enjoy reading all the dirt in the press about Jewish people who "look frum" who conduct themselves in ways that are anything but…

            

We talk about people doing teshuvah, but we are unaccepting of people we believe can't do teshuvah.

            

The Jewish criminals don't represent us. But we are not doing a good enough job of representing ourselves through living and modeling a Torah life that will cause others to say, "This is a great nation, wise and understanding."

            

Let the recent mourning period of Av serve as a reminder that we have a long way to go. May we find the strength to live up to our mandate from the Torah, to truly be a model nation.

Repeating a faux pas

Parshat Chukat 

by Rabbi Avi Billlet

I don't know how you operate, but I'll make a confession here. As a father of young children, I have learned that when they do something really bad, I need only make them feel really guilty to have them learn never to repeat the offense. 

 Perhaps we operate the same way. As long as the bad things we do remain secrets, we're in the clear. Once we get caught, and suffer the embarrassment or slap on the wrist (or worse) that comes with the guilt, do we finally vow never to do those things again. 

 So it comes as a surprise when we read this week that Moshe chose to repeat what was arguably the biggest "fashla" (Hebrew slang for “oops moment") of his life. In 21:32, in a verse that is largely overlooked, Moshe does the unthinkable: "Moses sent out men to reconnoiter Ya'azer, and they captured its surrounding villages, driving out the Amorites who lived there." Reconnoiter is the term used in The Living Torah, and it means "to spy." So Moshe sent spies... again? Wouldn't that be the ultimate no-no? 

According to some commentaries, indeed even according to Moshe himself (Devarim 1:37), the incident of the spies in Parshat Shlach is what ultimately led to Moshe’s death in the desert. How could he be so foolish to send spies again? 

Because there is nothing foolish about sending spies, if it is done correctly. 

 In Shlach, there was pomp and ceremony and everyone knew who was going, when they were going, what their assignment was, and when they returned. Instead of reporting only to Moshe, they reported to everyone. And this time the spies themselves were different: according to Targum Yonatan, Moshe sent only two spies this time, Kalev and Pinchas, whose trustworthiness was beyond question. 

 Additionally, the spying fell in between battles, when the nation was pumped for war and knew they could win. 

 Finally, this was the next generation, a generation that complained about dying of natural causes, but not about having to face the enemy on the battlefield. 

 Still, all this being true, how could Moshe repeat his faux-pas? Because Moshe "Rabbenu," our teacher, is teaching us a lesson for all time. The Peter Principle posits that people rise to the level of their incompetence; then no further promotions are available. The concept of "teshuva," however, is that you may make a mistake along the road, but to know if your repentance has been accepted, you need to be faced with the same circumstances once again, and either you don't succumb to temptation or you rise to the occasion. 

 In Moshe's case, he needed another reason to send spies, to show that while he may have shared the blame the first time around, the ten bad spies had much to do with how things went wrong. Given the correct strategy and approach, the spying could serve the purpose for which it was intended, vindicating Moshe, and clearing him before his death of the reputation of (shudder) a failed commander-in-chief. 

Rashi says the spies went in saying "We don't want be like the first ones. We have faith in the power of Moshe's prayer to help us win the battle." He says the spies themselves were the ones who conquered Ya'azer. And the Rashi supercommentary Maskil L'David says the reason for the need to send spies was because they needed a "tikkun" (correction) through the same activity in which they sinned. These spies not only went in with the right attitude, but also were ready to sacrifice their lives in battle to give the entire nation the fix they needed to move beyond the wilderness experience. 

 These are amazingly powerful ideas. Moshe revisits his mistake to prove he can do things the right way. The spies are so selfless, they are willing, for the sake of the people, to make the ultimate sacrifice so that the generation waiting on the border of the land can let bygones be bygones and move on. 

 It almost sounds like a movie that opens with a training scene for the most far-fetched situation that could possibly happen. The far-fetched situation becomes the climax of the film (for real this time), and the teacher gives his life so the student can show he or she has surpassed the teacher. 

 The difference is that this is our history, our heritage, and what our lives are all about: second chances, the ability to try again, to make amends, to do it right, and the selfless dedication of those who believe in G-d and His most devoted ones, to carry out His will for the sake of heaven and the future of the Children of Israel.

Dangers of Cult of Personality

This can be seen in the Jewish Star

Parshat Korach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In general, the Torah portion gets its name from the first, second or third word of the parsha, unless the opening is an introductory verse of God talking to someone — in which case its name comes from the first, second or third word following the introduction. In most cases, the name of the parsha is largely unrelated to its contents.

When it comes to a Torah equivalent of naming a chapter after someone, would it not be fitting that those whom the Torah chooses be models of fine standing?

Six parshas in the Torah include a specific person in their names: Noach, Chayei Sarah, Yitro, Korach, Balak and Pinchas.

The Torah tells us Noach was the greatest person of his generation. He alone merited to have his family saved, to preserve humanity after the Deluge.

Sarah is the original matriarch, whose untimely death taught lessons to her husband, son and all of us.
Yitro joined the Jewish people after the exodus, partly because of his familial connection to Moshe, but also out of personal conviction.

Pinchas is the model zealot who defended God, His Torah, and morality, earning for himself priesthood, from which he had been excluded, and a midrashic connection to Eliyahu and Messiah-hood.

While Balak is by no means a model character, he is the topic of most of the parsha bearing his name (along with Bilaam) — the only parsha in the Torah not told from the perspective of the people of Israel.

Which leaves us with Korach.

Why does Korach merit the infamy and notoriety the Torah gives him? The hero of the parsha, every step of the way, is Aharon. He wards off criticism that he benefited from nepotism, he rises strong to stop a plague with k’toret (incense), and his stick blossoms to become a model for nipping rebellion in the bud. The parsha concludes with instructions for priestly and levitical gifts — given to Aharon and sons, of course. The sedrah should be called “Parshat Aharon!”

As his name does not appear in the first verse, the suggestion is speculative. Yet compelling!

We are left to understand who Korach was, and why the Torah divisions leave him with the fame he carries to this day.

Prior to his tale of demonstration and rebellion, the rabbis tell us Korach was a model Jew. He was a scholar, a Levite, with good family ties — first cousin to Moshe and Aharon. And he taught his sons to think for themselves.

Korach had a problem, however, in that he was not happy with his portion. He wanted kavod (honor) and power. And most importantly, he wanted to be more of a “somebody.” So he preyed on the weak minds of those who became his followers, and on lightweight arguments that said “current leadership is no good. Things will be much different when I am in charge.”

It is always easy to paint an image of bleak hope and absolute despair when you are not in a position to do anything except point out weaknesses in a system that otherwise works pretty well. But what makes you think that when you get the power, you will be an efficient leader? (the image of Scar from “The Lion King” comes to mind)


Narcissists see the world in terms of how they can become more powerful, more famous, more “in charge” of as many things as can fit under their umbrella. They seek to make themselves look good by describing their opponents in the most abject of terms, sometimes saying things like Korach said, “Everyone is holy! Are you, incumbent, going to deny that every person is a holy human being?”

It is true that every human being has the power and the potential to accomplish great things. But not everyone is fit to lead — a leader is one who can take charge, take command, and who can bring about a solution that causes the least amount of damage to his constituents. Most importantly, when wrong, he admits to his mistakes and incompetence. Even the greatest of leaders is still a human being.

Whining and blaming others are not character traits of a leader.

Neither Aharon, Moshe or the forefathers have Torah portions named for them. The actions of these great men spoke much louder than their words.

In a time of crisis and a time of upheaval, it is actions that speak loudest. Words, after all, are just words. And they are as empty as the person who speaks them if they are not backed by actions that are sustainable, that do not tear society apart.

Perhaps Korach has a parsha named after him because he embodies an important lesson we can learn from — the unfit leader who relies more on his personality, charm and empty promises than any real-world experience has no place leading the Jewish people.

Rosh Hashana (belated)

My article on Rosh Hashana appeared in the Jewish Star this past week.

It is repeated below for your convenience.

The Shofar’s blast: an abrupt, tragic realization

By Rabbi Avi Billet

September 18, 2009/ 29 Elul 5769

Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik recounted a personal episode that took place shortly after his wife passed away.

As the rain and wind blew through the window of his room, half-awake, Rabbi Soloveitchik jumped to close the window. He thought his wife was sleeping downstairs; the window had been left open, and were it to remain open, in her weakened condition she might catch pneumonia.

He ran downstairs, rushed into the room and shut the window. Turning around to see whether she had awoken, “I found the room empty, the couch where she slept neatly covered.”

His wife had passed away the previous month.

“The most tragic and frightening experience was the shock that I encountered in that half second when I turned from the window to find the room empty. I was certain that a few hours earlier I had been speaking with her, and that at about 10 o’clock she had said good night and retired to her room. I could not understand why the room was empty,” Rabbi Soloveitchik wrote.

The shofar on Rosh Hashana is meant to be a wake up call. It is meant to remind us of where we were last year, what we’ve done since then, where we are today, and of our renewed commitments for the coming year.

According to Rabbi Soloveitchik “the required response to the shofar is the abrupt, tragic realization that the false assumptions upon which we built our lives have come crashing before our eyes.”

The wakeup call is meant to say, “Jew! How far have you strayed from your connection with God? How have you allowed all the material and trivial pursuits to consume your existence?”

We do not know how to express remorse or regret over our inadequacies. Even the chazzan who leads the service cannot find the right words; they are given to him in the form of the “Hi’n’ni” prayer, through which he describes himself as a pauper of deeds who is unworthy of representing the congregation. (It’s nice to say it along with him – he’s not the only one pretending to be something he is not.)

Rabbi Soloveitchik asks, why does the story of the pagan mother of the general Sisera crying over her son who has not returned from the battlefield form the basis for our hearing 100 blasts from the shofar on Rosh Hashana (based on Tosafot in Rosh Hashana 33b)?

He answers that the shofar must cause us to experience a similar emotion. “We must witness our own illusions being relentlessly shattered,” Rabbi Soloveitchik explained.

The Jerusalem Talmud Rosh Hashana (Chapter 1, page 57 Halakha 3) describes the reason for a custom to wear white on Rosh Hashana: a confidence that we have coming into the court room of the Almighty.

Whether one actually wears white or actually has such confidence, the fact of the matter is that Rosh Hashana is such a serious day, that even though we remind ourselves it is the Judgment Day (Yom HaDin), and the Day of Remembrance (Yom HaZikaron), we need the shofar to wake us up regardless because in our human imperfection, we still don’t “get it.”

New Year’s resolutions don’t work. Commitments to change don’t usually last more than 10 minutes past Rosh Hashana or Yom Kippur.

Yet we come back every year to hear the shofar, hoping we will finally be moved and inspired to move on to the next stage of our lives and Jewish experiences.

Let us try an experiment this year. We only have one chance because the shofar will only be sounded on Sunday.

Let us experience the shofar like we never have before. Instead of thinking about how good the shofar blower is (or is not), let us be grateful that he can get 100 blasts out of the shofar.

And now we can focus on how the sound of the shofar is meant to remind us of our own inadequacies

When we hear the shofar, let us think for a moment about how it shatters our dreams. Let us think for a moment, that as wonderful as we are, we could be better. Let us think for a moment, that as much as we do, we could be doing more. Let us think for a moment, that even the greatest confidence can benefit from a little bit of healthy “what if”-ing.

The shofar is there to remind us. Hopefully we will hear and heed the call.

The Month of E.L.U.L.

There is very nice young man now entering high school who has gathered a group of friends - we try to learn together once a week.

As tonight is Rosh Chodesh - well, it is Rosh Chodesh, even though it is still the 30th of Av - I decided to learn with them rules surrounding the beginning of the month of Elul. So we picked the laws of this same title in the Kitzur Shulchan Arukh (the one composed by Rabbi Ganzfried).

[As an aside, I've found really great resources on the internet, such as this website dedicated to the Kitzur Shulchan Arukh, when looking for links to put in this blog. The internet is incredible.]

Section 128 talks of how this time period, the forty day period from Rosh Chodesh through Yom Kippur is a time of longing and yearning - of the Jews to God, and of God for His people. It is a particularly open time for repentance, and those seeking to repent should utilize this time to do so. We compared it to the holiday season in the secular calendar, a time when people are apt to be more giving and more concerned for one another.

This time of year is a time in which God is exceedingly forgiving: He wants our repentance during this time.

The reason this time is so open for this yearning movement is because Moses spent this time period on the mountain, achieving forgiveness for the Jewish people for the sin of the Golden calf, and orchestrating the delivery of the second set of tablets.

Finally, we discussed the different acronyms which spell out E.L.U.L., which together indicate the moods of "teshuvah, tefillah, tzedakah" - repentance, prayer and righteousess (including charitable giving and behavior), which characterize where we need to focus our efforts of improvement during these times.

ואשר לא צדה והאלהים אנה לידו ושמתי לך, ראשי תבות אלול, לומר כי חדש זה, הוא עת רצון לקבל תשובה על החטאים שעשה בכל השנה. וגם רמז שגם על השגגות צריך לעשות תשובה בחדש הזה . עוד אמרו דורשי רשומות, ומל ה' אלהיך את לבבך ואת לבב זרעך, ראשי תבות אלול. וכן אני לדודי ודודי לי, ראשי תבות אלול. וכן איש לרעהו ומתנות לאביונים ראשי תבות אלול

May it be for a blessing.