Showing posts with label tumah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tumah. Show all posts

Friday, May 24, 2013

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.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Proper Education: Tumah and the Shema


Parshat Emor

by Rabbi Avi Billet

"And God said to Moshe, 'Say to the Kohanim, the sons of Aharon, and say to them, they should not become 'tameh' to people of the nation.'" (Vayikra 23:1)
            
The opening instruction in our parsha is for the kohanim to learn that they must follow a strict behavior, in which under ordinary circumstances they can only become "tameh" to a dead body if the deceased is one of the seven close relatives.

But the language utilized to relay this rule is strange. Instead of informing us that "God spoke (Vay'daber) to Moshe to say" the Torah says, "God said (Vayomer) to Moshe, "Say…" (Emor) And then it repeats the root word meaning "say" with the instruction of "V'amarta" – you will say to them.
            
Ramban says there is nothing special to be learned from this language. Emor is the same as Daber – it's a call to gather, listen and pay attention.
            
Yet one wonders, since there is a difference between the word "Daber" – Speak! and "Emor" – Say. "Speak" means you will address them saying the following idea, perhaps in your own words. "Say" means, "Here is a script you must follow."
            
The out-of-the-ordinary repetition of the root "Emor" is brought to our attention by Rashi, who, quoting a gemara (end of Yevamot 114a), says "'Emor... V'Amarta' comes to tell the big people (adults) to teach the little people (children) about the laws of tumah."
            
The midrashic book compiled in the Geonic period, Pitron Torah, explains that the first "say" teaches kohanim not to become tameh. The second "say" teaches kohanim the exception: if a kohen happens to come across a "met mitzvah" – a corpse on the road – he is to bury the body.
            
When Maimonides discusses the teaching of the Gemara (Hilchot Eivel 3:12), he says that a kohen-minor is to be taught not to become tameh. And while if he chooses to become tameh himself the court is not commanded to have him desist from being in a tameh arena, his father must educate him in the ways of "kedushah" – the holiness and sanctity that he must maintain as a kohen.
            
The Ta"z makes a similar point in Y"D 373, when he pinpoints the word "chinukh" as being the primary mode of operation determining the adult's responsibility to each child. The Pischei Teshuvah defines "chinukh" in his own comment on the Shulchan Arukh there as teaching so that "he can be punctilious in his fulfillment of the mitzvah when he reaches majority." ("she'yizaher l'kayem hamitzvah k'she'yagdil")
            
The kohen certainly has a job to educate his son in the ways of kohen responsibilities - in addition to the laws of tumah. For example, kohen children should be taught by their fathers how to duchen, and all kohanim must be sure that when they duchen they do so correctly (see Shulchan Arukh OC 128:8-end).
            
But "chinukh" is not confined to kohanim and their children. It is within the purview of all parents to properly educate their children, so that when their children reach majority they will know how to fulfill their mitzvah responsibilities properly.
            
Let us take a look at one of the first mitzvot we train our children to fulfill. While there are no official statistics, in my own work with children, I have found approximately 85% are being trained incorrectly. The flaw may lie in teachers, schools, parents or children. Or, perhaps, a combination of all four.
            
Some people may follow the Shulchan Arukh Orach Chaim 62:1, who says that even though it is a mitzvah to be exact in the reading of the Shema, if one is not perfectly exact, one fulfills one's obligation. But the Mishnah Brurah there says this is referring to all the subtleties that are raised in the entire Siman 61 about how to read the Shema punctiliously, precisely, and perfectly. However, if words or letters are outright misread, the Shema is being read improperly and the mitzvah is not fulfilled.

The problem is so pervasive that I even heard it on the "Shema @ Bed" app I have my daughter use to help her with the evening Shema.
            
In the first paragraph alone, most people make at least one mistake, and most children make at least two others. After the opening two sentences, the first word is "v'ahavTA," with the accent on the last syllable. Reading it this way means, "You shall love Hashem your God." When the accent is placed on the second to last syllable ("v'aHAVta") the words means "and you loved Hashem your God" in the past tense. This is one of many accent errors people make in reading Shema.
            
The other two very common mistakes are on words that are learned through listening and repeating, sounding out what (kids think) they hear, and not reading the words they are saying. The second to last word of the phrase "B'shiv'tkha B'veitekha uv'lekh't'kha baderekh u'v'shokh'b'kha uv'kumekha" is so commonly read as "B'shov't'kha" one can likely attribute it to confusion with the first word of the phrase as quoted as they now sound so similar. But there is a big difference between saying that you must review the words of the Shema "when you are laying down" (b'shokh'b'kha = the correct way) than "when you are returning" (B'shov't'kha = the incorrect way).
            
The last very common mistake is made when the first word of the last sentence of the first paragraph (and again when it appears in the second paragraph) is read as if it's the same as the first word of the previous sentence. We are told to tie the tefillin (u'k'shartam) and to write the mezuzah (u'kh'tavtam). Despite what many kids say when they read the Shema, we are not commanded to tie the mezuzah to the doorpost – u'k'shartam al mezuzot beitekha…
            
Perhaps all the emphasis on the root "Emor" (to say) at the opening of the parsha stands as a reminder that proper chinukh takes place when we take the time to say what needs to be said and to be heard. And, perhaps, in the case where the mitzvah is fulfilled through saying something, and following a script exactly, making sure it is said correctly.
            
Test your children. Be shocked or pleasantly surprised. Complain to the school or do not. Fix the problem if you can. (Shulchan Arukh 61:24 recommends leining the Shema every time!) Do proper Chinukh, making sure they read the words from the siddur so that when they reach the age of mitzvot, they can fulfill the mitzvah of reading the Shema properly.

Friday, May 11, 2012

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.

Friday, April 20, 2012

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.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Relevance of a Tangent

Acharei Mot - Aharon's Dead Sons - Part II?

by Rabbi Avi Billet
Aharon's sons died three parshas ago, in Parshat Sh'mini, and nary a word has been said about them. Our parsha opens mentioning their deaths, seeming to pick up exactly where the Torah took a break in its narrative to discuss other things.

Is there any significance to a multi-chapter tangent from the regular narrative of the Torah?

Only if the Torah doesn't view the tangent as a disruption of the narrative.

Shortly after his sons died, Aharon received one of his rare personal revelations from G-d in Vayikra 10:8-11. In addition to laws specific to their situation as mourners, he and his remaining sons were informed of "how to distinguish between holy and mundane, between tamei and tahor, so they may teach the Israelites the laws G-d had taught through Moshe."

The two and half parshas which followed those words were a blur of adherence to this code. Through Moshe and Aharon, the Israelites were then taught of the laws of what makes an animal tahor or tamei, fit to be used in the Temple, for sacrifices, offerings and for consumption, versus unfit and undesired by G-d.

Then Moshe and Aharon received divine instruction about the different kinds of tumahs that will come about, whether on account of tzara'at of the flesh, on clothing or of the home, or on account of a bodily emission.

What is the connection between all the discussions of tumah and taharah that follow the deaths of Nadav and Avihu? How is this five-chapters-long tangent significant to their story, causing the Torah to continue its narrative in our parsha beginning with the words "G-d spoke to Moshe after the deaths of the two sons of Aharon?"

I think it is because Nadav and Avihu served as an incredible study in contrasts. They tried to achieve holiness and purity, and ended up dying and becoming the greatest form of tumah a person can become in death.

Humans have a choice in terms of what animals they will eat. The Torah gives two options: will a person choose the route of taharah (spiritual purity), or will a person choose animals that are tamei, not preferred by G-d to be sources of human consumption?

People have a choice in terms of how they will conduct themselves, in deed and in certain behaviors, to possibly bring tumah upon themselves. Tzara'at, most often caused by lashon hara, was an affliction only a kohen could diagnose. It was accompanied by requisite tumah, which could only be purged with a unique isolation and subsequent sacrificial rite. Perhaps many people were afflicted with the ailment on account of their speculation over what caused Nadav and Avihu to die.

For other tumah circumstances, the kohen was on hand to help the person achieve taharah once again.

In all these discussion of tumah and taharah, it soon becomes highly significant that Nadav and Avihu are missing from the equation. Forty percent of the original kohen work force disappeared in an instant, leaving only three kohanim to do the job on behalf of the people.

Nowhere is this felt more significantly than in the Holy Temple on Yom Kippur, the topic addressed in Acharei Mot's opening, the day when the kohanim were the focus, and all kohanim stood to assist and facilitate the efforts of the High Priest in his attempt to achieve atonement for the people on the holiest day of the year.

Our lives are a delicate balance between tamei and tahor – being unfit to serve and correcting ourselves to be able to serve G-d appropriately. The holiday of Pesach, which took place two weeks after the deaths of Aharon's sons, stood as a pivotal moment for many who were looking to partake in the Korban Pesach.

How do we get past the devastating downside of the past few weeks - the marking of Aharon's sons' deaths on the calendar, and the notable uncertainty that prevails in our own times -  in order to celebrate the Festival of Freedom? We learn about the delicate balance of our lives, and make every effort to recognize the good in others and purge our homes of the kinds of food which don't belong.

Now that we have achieved personal holiness, we read about Yom Kippur, the highlight of national holiness. And we understand what we strive to attain in our lives, whenever our minds are focused on our true priorities: God, Torah on the bein adam lamakom (between man and God) side, and Family and Friends on the bein adam lachaveiro (between human beings) side.
 
May we never lose sight of these focii as we reach great heights in the mountain-climb that is our lives.