Divine "Changes"?

An outsider's (perhaps naive) commentary on some of the activism going on in Israel (and perhaps in the US as well). I have purposely chosen not to take a specific stand for either side here because the ultimate lesson the dvar Torah brings out is the point upon which I am focusing. If you'd like to have the dialogue, feel free to comment (or email me!), and we can have a conversation. For a slightly different perspective, see this thought quoted in the name of HaRav Yehuda Amital, Z"L, the founding Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion

Parshat B'haalotkha

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In the first Nissan month following the Exodus, the Torah tells us that the Israelites observed Passover, bringing the Korban Pesach (Paschal lamb offering) at its proper time. (Chapter 9)

The tale that follows is of a group of people, who were unable to participate in the Korban Pesach on account of their being in a state of "tumah" (a spiritual state of impurity).

"But why should we lose out and not be able to present God's offering at the right time, along with the other Israelites?" they ask.

"Wait here," Moshe replied. "I will hear what orders God gives regarding your case."

He is told, "Speak to the Israelites, saying: If any person is tameh (ritually impure) from contact with the dead, or is on a distant journey, whether among you [now] or in future generations, he shall still have the opportunity to prepare God's Passover offering… He shall prepare it on the afternoon of the 14th of the second month and shall eat it with matzahs and bitter herbs." (9:7-14) This is the Torah's account of the mitzvah of "Pesach Sheni" – the makeup date for missing the Korban Pesach.

Rashi says, "These impure (tameh) people were privileged to have this mitzvah (of Pesach Sheni) be attributed to their question, as opposed to coming directly from Moshe, because we bring about something which is worthy through someone who is worthy." Three of the opinions as to their identity are those who carried Yosef's bones, Mishael andEltzafan – who took Nadav and Avihu out of the Mishkan after their tragic end, or people who buried others who had no family. All of these possibilities are people who are very worthy to perform the mitzvah were it not for the "tumah" factor holding them back.

In his exploration of Rashi's commentary, Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrachi notes that those who were tameh were tameh that day, but were to become tahor (pure) that evening. As such, they would have been fit and could have partaken of the Korban Pesach on time – not in the day of the 14th of Nissan, but in the evening of the 15th, during their "Seder," when the Paschal Lamb "is to be eaten and not leftover until morning."

Were their question not asked "that day" (9:6) when there was still time, we would be able to wonder who would have the audacity to suggest that despite missing the opportunity to do the mitzvah in its proper time, they should have a do-over! There is a halakhic principle that once a specific time for a mitzvah has passed (particularly a korban) – the opportunity is lost (avar zmano batel korbano).

Their circumstance was unique, their position, as Rashi notes, one of tremendous worthiness, and their opportunity, to have a previously undisclosed mitzvah be taught through their story, makes their situation most noteworthy.

Mizrachi quotes the Raavad who suggests they had actually tried to bring the Korban Pesach, before being sprinkled with the requisite blood (presumably of the Parah Adumah – Red Heifer), and immersing in water to complete their purification process, and the offering was rejected. Mizrachi wonders, according to this opinion, why they were not instructed to undergo the purifying process followed by an additional attempt at bringing the Korban Pesach? Beyond saying such a notion was not in the cards, since they were instructed to bring the Korban Pesach on Pesach Sheni (14 Iyar) one month in the future, he does not answer this question.

The people in this circumstance were creating history. And with the authentic leadership of Moshe and the connection to the Divine he provided, their question was not out of place. Their timeliness in asking – on the day they should have been bringing the Korban, along with the suggestion that they did actually bring one only to have it rejected, together indicate a Divine stamp of approval to their efforts. They merited to have a mitzvah taught in their story!

Can the same always be said about those who are opportunists, who pick a time to say "Why should we lose out?" in order to stoke coals and create controversy?

There is a difference between taking up a cause for social justice and taking up a cause in the name of religion. True social justice cases, in which people are either not participating in society or are being selectively discriminated against in society, deserve a public hearing and a demand for equal rights.

But taking up a cause in the name of religion requires a very different attitude. Religion is ancient, has traditions, values, and a way which has been for centuries. And those looking to represent it must be humble, and must come across as standing on the shoulders of precedent.

Sincerity is relative. The people who were looking to perform the Korban Pesach, who were held back by a technicality, were sincere. They got their makeup date, which was not a new idea, according to Mizrachi, but was only taught at this time because of their sincerity.

What really drives the people behind both sides of the latest demonstrations at the Kotel? What drives those involved on both sides of drafting the Charedim into the Israeli army?

While there is a time and place for everything, the reverse is not true: not everything belongs in every place at all times.

The issues are complicated, emotions run high, some people are sincere, while some are driven by an agenda that is far less than sincere. A Divine response would be most helpful in achieving peaceful solutions. But without it, humility is the key ingredient that could keep everyone grounded and help reach appropriate compromises.

Irrelevance is Relative

Parshat Emor

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Last week I was privileged to teach a class about Mikveh to a group of non-Orthodox Jews. The first ten minutes of the class focused on the concepts of "tumah" and "taharah" and how every single-word or two-word "translation" of each of these words does not do justice to the discussion. Neither people or animals are "unclean," or "contaminated," or "impure."  They can be "tameh" or be in a status of "tumah" (or be "tahor" or in a status of "taharah"). This does not reflect a hygiene issue even in the slightest.

In discussing the concept of "tumah" – which I define as a "spiritual status which bars something or someone from participating in a holy act" – the question was raised as to how much tumah plays a role in our lives today. Without the Temple in Jerusalem, which contained the system and formula for getting rid of tumah – as well as the major source for the need to do such - much of the tumah discussions are irrelevant today.

We do remove tumah with water when we ritually wash our hands and when we go to the mikveh. However, without the Red Heifer (Bamidbar 19), everyone of us is "tameh" in some manner.

            

This leads us to our parsha, which opens with a tumah warning that is still largely practiced today, even in the absence of the Temple in Jerusalem. Kohanim are not to become tameh through contact with (or certain proximity to) dead bodies, with the exception of a close relative, as per the Torah's allowance.

            

When I was a senior in high school, Rav Dovid Lifshitz zt"l's wife passed away, and her funeral was actually held in the yeshiva's beis medrash. A couple of the rebbeim, who were Kohanim, took all the Kohen students to a different building and had the morning classes with them until the funeral was over. I recall going to the teachers' lounge during lunch and seeing one of the non-observant Jewish teachers who had a Priestly last name. I asked him a couple of questions about something we had been learning, and then he lowered his voice to a serious tone and asked me, "Is the funeral still going on?" I told him it was. He said, "I probably shouldn't be in the building. Right?"

            

The Midrash Rabba 26:6 quotes the verse in Tehillim 19:10 that says "Fear of God is pure, enduring forever." Rabbi Levi taught, "From the fear that Aharon reserved for God, he merited that this section in the Torah was given to him and his descendants until the end of time – and never becomes irrelevant. This refers to the section about how to deal with a dead body, as it says 'God said to Moshe to tell the Kohanim, the sons of Aharon…'"

            

A few paragraphs earlier (26:3) the Midrash recounted the fact that in the times of King David, little children knew how to understand and explain all the facets of the laws of tumah and taharah. I would equate this notion (on a limited scale) to some of the laws of kosher with which our children these days are largely familiar.

            

My two year old can distinguish between a dairy and meat dish. He understands that when I say a treat in the supermarket he has his eye on is "not kosher," there is nothing to discuss because we don't eat that.

            

When you are living and breathing a reality, kids soak it up from the moment they have any conscious notion of understanding.

            

Over the last couple of months, I have read a number of articles (see here and here) as well as a book review, that address the never overstated concern over "what we're doing to keep our kids interested in remaining observant Jews." It is easy to create form-fitting robots who go through the motions of washing and bentching and davening in shul, but are we reaching the neshama (soul)? Is there depth to the commitment? Will an unanswerable question prop itself up one day and shatter everything?

            

Do we even know what our goals ought to be in this matter of a lifestyle we call "observance?" How do we reconcile the fact that over half of the counted commandments in the Torah do, in fact, have no relevance to our lives in the Temple's absence?

            

This is why I think classes like the mikveh class, which revisit an old topic for some, but a new one for others, is such a healthy task to undertake:

We need to look at everything with a fresh eye. We need to question the role of tumah and taharah in our lives, and we need to understand why we still run from eating animals that are in the tameh category.

            

We need to recognize that the more we expose children to the truths of our Jewish lives from a younger age, the more aptly they will pick it up and "get it." And they will hopefully understand that a single bad experience or a specific unscrupulous individual need not be the cause for rejecting all of the Torah.  

            

And finally, we must treasure the kohanim, the last ones to carry the remnant of this ritual on a daily basis. A true testament to their "fear of God" is how much kohanim who bless the people take pride in their role and take extra care not to put themselves in a position that may compromise their ability to fulfill their mitzvah of blessing the people.

            

May we all merit to have a commitment and dedication to our Judaism as the kohanim (for the most part) have to their role in the Jewish community – a role that has somehow survived (in modified form) through two Temple destructions and thousands of years of exile.

Why Eat Kosher?

Parshat Shmini

by Rabbi Avi Billet

According to my Concordance, the root word "Kosher" appears three times in the Bible (in Esther and Ecclesiastes) – not once in the Torah. Ask anyone with a decent familiarity with the Torah how many times "the laws of Kosher" are discussed in the Torah, and you'll get a few different answers, ranging from three to close to ten.

As much as the word "Kosher" is not utilized in the Torah, the terms which are employed are "tumah" and "taharah" as well as the negative form of "not-tahor" – referring to all the different kinds of permutations of animals which are fit (literal meaning of "kosher") or unfit for Torah-abiding-consumption.

 In its discussion of these laws at the end of Parshat Shmini, the distinction between tameh (oft-translated as "spiritually impure") and tahor ("spiritually pure") is invoked, as a distinction is made between animals which are permitted to be consumed and animals which are forbidden to be eaten.

 In his commentary on the Torah, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch has a 17-page essay (Feldheim edition) on the lessons and laws that are derived from these distinctions. He also makes reference to a similarly lengthy discussion on the subject in his book "Horeb" – Chapter 68, Forbidden Foods.

 In Horeb, Hirsch profoundly states that the dietary laws have nothing to do with health. In fact, he claims that if one ingests the "impure" foods, "you may be more nourished and better fed, but the animal instinct will be aroused more strongly within you, and your body becomes more blunted as an instrument of the spirit… You become 'tameh,' impure, less capable of your holy mission, and you should really be 'anshei kodesh,' [people] of sanctity, members of a great, holy institution."

 Along similar lines, his commentary on the Torah cries out that "the reason for these laws is not bodily health, but the moral integrity of our souls… to ensure the spiritual and moral health of our souls." Guarding what one eats doesn't assure a spiritual holiness, but it gives one the ability to attain it. "Tumah" – the spiritual impurity addressed by the Torah – is largely defined as death, and contact with death. But it is also an idea, notion, or conception (as Hirsch puts it) that is not something concrete, that is associated with certain living animals and creatures – the ones we would nowadays call "unkosher."

 In the Orthodox world, "Kosher" does not need much of a sales pitch. Efforts of the kashrus organizations have made accessibility to kosher foods in the United States a fairly easy endeavor. In the non-Orthodox world, there are many who only buy kosher, and there are also many who do not. Some claim it is too hard, some claim it is too expensive. These arguments are sometimes true and sometimes not true.

 At the same time, living in a society in which people are well aware of, and on top of outbreaks and scares associated with foodstuffs (including in vegetables), we can drop the notion that some people have that kosher is "healthier."

 With few exceptions, such as the process of manufacturing wine and the mixing of dairy and meat (and, of course, the proper preparation of the meat of "tahor" animals), "kosher" means that the ingredients do not include "tumah" animals or their byproducts, or that the food in question was not cooked or processed on machinery or in utensils in which the same animals or their byproducts were cooked or processed (unless the machines or utensils were kashered first).

 While some may claim to understand all the sentiments behind "tumah," most will readily admit they do not. At the same time, we are happy to add that if it is important enough for God to spend so much time in his Torah discussing these rules, they are clearly there for our benefit.

 And if, as Hirsch argues, ingesting only "tahor" animals and ingredients sets our bodies up for, and allows them to achieve a spirituality level that is impossible if we are fueled by "tameh" ingredients, those looking to achieve such a status – whatever it means and however it may be defined, will only view the kosher laws as a gift rather than a burden.

 This is a question of spiritual health and not physical health. And as true spirituality is more or less defined by the Torah, rather than an emotional feeling some people who are "spiritual" sometimes speak of, observance of these rules in nourishing the body is the first ticket towards achieving the Torah prescribed nourishment of the soul that we hopefully yearn to achieve in our lifetimes.