Only One True TZADDIK in His Generation

Parshat Noach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

When we are introduced to Noach at the beginning of the parsha, Rashi notes that his being called a “tzaddik” (righteous man) – “in his generation” could be interpreted either positively or negatively. Positively, had Noach lived in another generation, he’d have been even greater. Negatively, only because he was compared to such terrible people was Noach considered great in his day.

                

But honestly, I don’t understand the question. The Torah does say in the first verse of Chapter 7, “And God said to Noach, ‘Come with your family to the Ark, because I see you to be a tzaddik before Me in this generation.’”

                

Perhaps this verse can also be read both ways, but I think the more correct reading is “You are unique in your time.” But not in a different generation.

                

Why is this language used?

                

The Or HaChaim explains that Noach needed to be reminded that he was the tzaddik in comparison to the people of his generation, because maybe Noach would think to bring a whole bunch of people on board – people he felt were not deserving of punishment, when indeed they were not innocent.

                

Don’t we all have friends we’d want to save if we were making a boat big enough to hold dozens of people, if not more?

This is why, Or HaChaim suggests, Noach needed to be told to bring his family. Even they were unworthy of being saved. They were only brought on board because they were his family. “Because you are the (only) tzaddik I see in this generation.”

                

The midrash (which Rashi also quotes) goes in a different direction when it claims this is a demonstration of God not saying Noach’s complete praise in front of him (earlier he was called a “tzaddik tamim” – a perfect righteous man – when the Torah introduced him, but he was not being personally addressed).

                

Kli Yakar raises a different possibility, that two events transpired which brought God to say this to Noach. Firstly, after 120 years of Ark construction, it was apparent that no one was repenting. Secondly, there had been one other righteous person, Noach’s grandfather Metushelach (Methuselah), who passed away right before God’s declaration to Noach that he is the only righteous person alive today. Kli Yakar even suggests the declaration came after Noach’s 7 days of mourning (his father had died 5 years earlier, leaving him as the sole mourner for his grandfather), because there was a thought that people who witnessed the death and mourning over the righteous Metushelach would be inspired to return to God. Of course, this didn’t happen.

                

Kli Yakar returns to his interpretation from the end of Chapter 6, that Noach was immune to the temptation of robbery, which is what the Torah claims brought about the flood.

                

And while this is certainly an admirable trait of Noach – perhaps even a divine trait in his day – this is the type of thing that is no outstanding accomplishment in a world where people understand that what is mine is mine and what is your is yours until currency and therefore ownership exchanges hands.

                

It is certainly possible that had Noach lived in another time he would have been an amazing man. But the focus in our verse (7:1) seems to pinpoint his specific generation. And if indeed he had no friends worthy of being saved, and not even his family to save were it not for his own merit, then he was unique in his own time.

                

Was there ever a time when there were bad people when there were not good people as well? Was there ever a time when there was only one person who lived in a moral high ground?

                

God has the right to judge all the persons of the world. He made them. They owe their lives to him. But we who all sin through the year, who all experience Yom Kippur, are not Noachs, not in our generation nor in any generation.

                

Kohelet (7:20) said, “There is no human tzaddik in the land who does good but does not sin.” It seems in this sense, that Noach was very unique. We have the benefit of thousands of years of distance, tradition, and commentary to look at Noach however we want to. We can read the verses one way and say he never sinned. We can read them another way and say he was nothing to write home about.

                

In our generation, obviously, sins, in the eyes of man, are by degree. Some are the type people shrug off, some merely raise eyebrows, and some are viewed as heinous and despicable. Opinions are always going to be formed about the actions of others. But before we publish our opinions or scream from the top of the mountain, we need to ask ourselves how self-righteous we really are.

                

“I may not be perfect but I’m better than that person.” I don’t defend sins of a religious nature, and certainly not of a criminal nature. But I wonder how many people who rush to defame sinners would stand the Noach test – Noach who had not a single friend or family member who merited to be saved from the flood, were it not for his merit in his generation.

The Model, Righteous Women

Parshat Vayakhel

by Rabbi Avi Billet

“The washbasin and its stand was made of copper of the mirrors of the dedicated women who congregated at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting.” (Shmot 28:8)

There is much credit given to the women who donated their mirrors for the sake of the creation of the Kiyor/washbasin. Who were these women? Why were they so special to the point of their being enumerated in such a fashion?

According to Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan’s well-researched commentary, the word “Tzavu,” which is translated above as “congregated,” can also be translated as “to worship,” “celebrated,” “exiled themselves,” or who worked as “craftswomen.”

The Ibn Ezra, in his “Peirush Hakatzar,” brings another possibility that the women who donated their mirrors “came regularly (‘tamid’) to the place of the tent to pray, and they rejected all worldy desires. This is why they donated their mirrors! Because (generally) all that women do is beautify their faces.” These women broke that mold.

Before we get all hung up on the Ibn Ezra’s sexism, let us recall first that he was writing in the 12^th century. Adidtionally, he was certainly reflecting one of the Talmudic sentiments recorded in Taanit 31a about womens’ purpose – all of which were purportedly stated by different women describing themselves to potential suitors. More importantly, we must focus on how Ibn Ezra is crediting these uniquely spiritual women who dedicated so much of their time to regularly (always?) pray, to the point that they had no need for their mirrors.

Ramban adds that not only did they come to pray, but they wanted to hear all about the mitzvot – in other words, they came to learn Torah as well. Their donations were completely pure. The copper of their mirrors was particularly burnished, making it extremely high quality. This is why, Ramban claims, Moshe dedicated their copper for this specific vessel – which is meant to help the kohanim achieve purity.

Ramban concludes, however, suggesting the truth to the notion that they also had in mind the Sotah waters, which were gathered from this very same washbasin.

It seems, that as much as there are some women who are very devout and extremely dedicated and God-fearing, these same women were aware that the possibility of the Sotah, the adulteress woman, existed. Maybe they felt that the Sotah waters would always declare the innocence of the accused. Surely they understood that it is not only innocent people who are accused of crimes.

Every group of people, no matter how divided, has its share of stellar, wonderful, model citizens as well as its share of bad apples. There are people who are sincere, humble and dedicated, while some of the similarly dedicated people are arrogant egotists.

There are groups of philanthropists who are magnanimous in their gifting and in their personalities. And there are those who gift and let the whole world know about it.

There are men who are absolute givers, who donate their time, their experience, their advice, their money, their mentoring qualities to those who are lower on the totem pole, to those who need to pay their proverbial dues to climb the ladder. And there are those who look down upon any underling, treat them like trash and make them feel like nobodies on account of their youth, inexperience, naivete, etc.

There are women who are sincere about their dedication to God and holiness. There are also  women who prefer to make sure that they look not just good, but super amazing when they walk away from a mirror in front of which they’ve been looking for hours.

Some care about their Torah knowledge and mitzvah observance. Some focus on their being up to date with the latest fashion trends in all manners of clothing, gear, and sheitels.

Which were the ones whose donations were accepted? According to Ibn Ezra and Ramban, it was the former. And only the former.

We can all learn from these dedicated women – in the times of the Israelites’ journey through the desert, as well as today – to maintain a proper focus of what is most important.

No one is perfect. No one gets it right every time. But what drives us is the real question. Are we God-fearing people, humble before God? Or are we insincere people, focusing on mundane issues which only get in the way of our properly serving the Master of the World?

The righteous women who donated their mirrors to make the Washbasin had pure clarity. May their example serve as a model for all men and women for how to serve God.

Mishpatim: The "Blessing" of Wealth

This article can also be accessed here on the Jewish Star's website

Parshat Mishpatim

February 12, 2010/ 18 Shvat 5770

Concerning the treatment of those in need, the Torah tells us, “When you lend money to My people, to the poor man among you, do not press him for repayment. [Also] do not take interest from him.” (22:24)

The Midrash Rabba (31:4) says, “Come and see: the person who has wealth, who gives charity to the poor, and lends without interest, is viewed as if he has fulfilled all of the commandments; as it says in Psalms 15:5: ‘He did not give his money with interest, nor did he accept a bribe against the innocent; he who does these shall not falter forever.’”

Furthermore, the Midrash says in 31:5 that Solomon asked of G-d, “If a person asks of You to give him wealth, and You know it will be bad for him, don’t give it to him. But if You see someone who will be pleasant with the gift and will use it appropriately, then give it to him.”

The people of Israel asked of G-d, “Who are Your nation?” G-d answered, “The poor.” As it says in Isaiah 49:13, “Sing, O heavens, and rejoice, O earth, and mountains burst out in song, for the Lord has consoled His people, and He shall have mercy on His poor.”

The difference between human nature and G-d-like nature is that a wealthy individual with poor relatives might not care to be supportive or to acknowledge familial ties (this is not a blanket statement, but is sometimes true), as Proverbs 19:7 says, “All the kinsmen of a poor man hate him…”

G-d’s attitude towards wealth

G-d’s attitude towards wealth, on the other hand, is “And wealth and honor are from before You, and You rule over all, and in Your hand is strength and might, and it is in Your hand to magnify and to strengthen all” (Divrei Hayamim I:29:12); while his attitude towards the poor is expressed in Isaiah 14:32: “Now what shall the messenger of a nation announce? That the Lord has founded Zion, and therein shall the poor of His people shelter themselves.”

In essence, the reason why the world was created such that there are “haves” and “have nots” is to give people the opportunity to do what is just and right in the eyes of G-d (based on Devarim 6:18).
Kindness and virtue are the most G-d-like qualities a person can exhibit: to be a giving person, to be a caring person, to be a loving person, with a full heart.

Charity begins at home

It should begin with family. Of the people I personally know who support destitute or needy family members, they usually begin explaining why they do it by saying, “Nebech. It’s such a sad case. Her husband died (or left her), leaving her with four children.” “Nebech, the kid has no mother, and the father himself is a nebech.” “Nebech, I feel bad for them. I’m the only family they have.”

These are admirable reasons for helping people. Others call it “Jewish guilt.”

It would be even more meaningful if the reason we help is because “I love my family” or “I care about my neighbor” or “I can do my part to help give Jewish children a Jewish education in my community.”

The Midrash says that wealth is a blessing given to those who know what to do with it, who know to use it not just to build big buildings but to help people in the areas of their lives and finances that need the most help — assuming they are trying and struggling, but sometimes even if they are not trying hard enough.

It need not come out of pity. It can come out of love, and passion for doing what is right.