Doing Our Part So God Does the Rest of Our Part

Parshat (Eileh) Fekudei 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 As news emerges from the Ukraine region and as we see our brothers and sisters fleeing for safety, it is hard to imagine that this is real. It is certainly a familiar playbook we have seen before, but we just don’t imagine it taking place in our “modern” and “civilized” and “post-war” world. 

It certainly is a different world for the Jewish people than in other times in our history. It doesn’t seem that Jews are specifically being targeted, and, of course, there is a Jewish state which can absorb Jews who need to find a home to replace their own, certainly temporarily or even if permanently. All that is encouraging, and yet the reality many people there are facing gives us 3 options. 

1. Donate to a cause that will help with the evacuation expenses, procuring food and water, and helping our fellow Jews get to a safe place 

2. Pray for their safety and for the end to the unrest 

3. Lobby and be politically active to push the right people to do the right things 

For most of us, the first two items are certainly much easier. Thankfully there are many people on all sides who are on board with our shared goals of ending fighting, bombing, bloodshed, which can mean that we can focus on the first two items – trusting that larger umbrella organizations such as OU, Agudah, Aish, etc. will utilize the funds and donations in a manner which is most productive. 

May Hashem save and protect the innocent, punish the guilty, and see all through to a conclusion that brings a peaceful and safe existence for all – soldiers and civilians alike. לא ישא גוי אל גוי חרב ולא ילמדו עוד מלחמה. 

 Rashi tells us at the end of chapter 39 that when all the work for the Mishkan was completed and everything had been brought before Moshe for the final assembly, when Moshe blessed the people (39:43) he said, “May it be [His] will that the divine presence (Shechinah) should rest in that which your hands have made.” This was followed by the verse at the end of Tehillim 90 (the one which begins with the words תפילה למשה) 

17And may the pleasantness of the Lord our God be upon us, and the work of our hands establish for us, and the work of our hands establish it. יזוִיהִ֚י נֹ֨עַם | אֲ-דֹנָ֥י אֱ-לֹק֗ינוּ עָ֫לֵ֥ינוּ וּמַֽעֲשֵׂ֣ה יָ֖דֵינוּ כּֽוֹנְנָ֣ה עָלֵ֑ינוּ וּמַֽ֘עֲשֵׂ֥ה יָ֜דֵ֗ינוּ כּֽוֹנְנֵֽהוּ: 

Of course, this sentiment is one which God had established at the very beginning of the instructions for the Mishkan when He declared ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם – and you/they shall make for Me a Sanctuary and I will dwell in them. 

 Which leads to a question of semantics in the text. Earlier in chapter 39, we see the following statement at the end of 39:32: “וַֽיַּעֲשׂוּ֙ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל כְּ֠כֹל אֲשֶׁ֨ר צִוָּ֧ה יְקֹוָ֛ק אֶת־מֹשֶׁ֖ה כֵּ֥ן עָשֽׂוּ” – the children of Israel did all that God commanded Moshe, so they did. &&&&&&& Why does the Torah tell us twice – in the same verse! – that they did this work? 

Rabbi Shternbuch explained that there are two kinds of instructions that Moshe received. The first was the technical information, the blueprint for how each item was to be made, the dimensions, the necessary craftsmanship needed for the different tasks, the kinds of accounting needed, etc. The second consisted of all the proper kavvanot, intentions and thought processes required to bring about the desired result, which was to cause the Divine Presence, in the form of the Shechina, to enter the Mishkan. 

 The first instruction was readily shared and relatively easy to follow in the sense that anyone who understands craftsmanship or building can follow technical instructions. But Moshe wasn’t so easily giving over the proper intentions people should have, partly because it isn’t as easy to give over, and partly because intentions are very personal and can not easily be conveyed or made uniform across all those working on a project. 

 And so the verse is telling us that through their following the technical side of construction, their kavvanah ended up being what God had instructed to Moshe. Or, as Rav Shternbuch put it, “Through their combining the proper kavvanot with those of Moshe’s, the work was completed, and they were thus ready for the divine presence to fill the space.” 

We don’t always know how things will work out. In whatever efforts we make we hope for Divine assistance to carry us the rest of the way. 

 There are people who put much investment in a simcha, and when it’s over wonder where the time went and if the cost was worth it. Others focus on making it a meaningful, spiritual and educational experience, and walk away so elated by what was achieved that they can only point to God carrying them to places they never could have imagined.

 The same is true for all efforts. Davening can be rote and often (sadly) meaningless, or a person can make the effort to bring God in only to find God standing next to the person throughout the experience. Some rely on doctors for all medical advice and care. Others know that doctors are merely tools of the Almighty, and they include Tefillah and Tz’akah as part of the regimen of the healing. When we give tzedakah, we know our money is going to a destination. We trust that our efforts will be taken up by God so they be directed in the manner most appropriate. 

And the same holds true for outcomes in war and the uncertainty that accompanies it. We can do whatever we think is in our power to do, but what makes for the outcomes that are most fulfilling are when we include the thought that God is in charge and it is His will which will decide what will eventually happen, so we communicate Him to do the right thing for all. 

For the Bnei Yisrael, they did what Moshe told them, and they also did what Moshe neglected to tell them, intuiting that they needed Divine assistance beyond the gifts of craftsmanship they had been given by God. And it worked out in the end, because the blessing Moshe gave them came true, as demonstrated at the end of the parsha when the Divine Presence descended and filled the Mishkan. 

May we merit to see the Divine Presence guiding the world in the right direction, as we continue to do our part to get us in the most deserving space we can be in, for ourselves and for all of Acheinu Kol Beis Yisrael.

Wisdom of the Heart = Intelligence + Motivation + Divine Assistance

Parshat Vayakhel

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There is a unique expression utilized several times in the Torah surrounding the creation of the Mishkan – חכם לב or חכמת לב. The first phrase references an individual who is “wise of the heart” while the second phrase references the “wisdom of the heart” that the person will either be gifted or already possesses. 

Certainly when we think of learning any trade in antiquity, we tend to imagine far less than a trade school: either apprenticeships or simply learning on the job. In either case, someone with a little ambition and a demonstrable readiness to learn could easily be taken under the wing of a willing teacher or professional who would train the novice in a particular skill or trade.

Having read a few Holocaust memoirs of late, it was apparently common for individuals to claim to be builders or craftsmen, the kind that might benefit the Nazi-efforts, for the purpose of staying alive. Once assigned to a particular work detail, they’d quickly learn on the job. One survivor pinned his survival on picking up the skill so well that when he was transferred to a different camp, his claim of being a builder was actually scrutinized and he was able to demonstrate his adeptness, through the skills he had learned in the previous concentration camp. 

In Egypt, however, we imagine that the skills picked up in slavery probably focused on building (with brick and mortar) and possibly on farming agriculture, and not on skilled artisanry in the realm of weaving and smithing (gold, silver, copper). Where did they pick up the skills for the work necessary to make the vessels, curtains, and garments for the Mishkan? 

Netziv (Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin) has a number of comments specifically addressing how the people acquired these skills with Divine assistance. In 31:6, on the words “And in the hearts of all those ‘wise of heart’ I have placed wisdom” he writes, “on Brachot 55a they learn from this verse that God only gives wisdom to a person who already possesses wisdom (see also Daniel 2:21).” 

What kind of wisdom does a person already possess?

“There are two branches of wisdom: 

 A. Common sense and diligence 

B. Study and knowledge [of history]. 

 This is what Mishlei (4:7) means ‘The beginning of wisdom is acquisition of wisdom and with all your possession acquire understanding.’ The beginning of a person’s common sense comes from practicing what he has learned (similar to ‘practice what you preach’) First a person acquires an understanding of others, and then from all encounters one acquires understanding that raises an individual notch by notch. This is what the rabbis taught ‘A person should learn, and then explain…’ (ליגמר אינש והדר ליסבר) Through this he can help someone else who has sekhel, who knows how to guard his knowledge, so that the knowledge not be utilized in an unworthy direction.”

Wisdom is therefore a combination of nature plus experience. Experience is what helps a person utilize one’s wisdom and skills for good purposes, while not contributing to an environment in which said knowledge will be misused. 

Netziv continues: 

“But the phrase ‘every wise of heart’ is still difficult. The power of sekhel comes not from the heart but from the brain. Therefore “wise of heart” has two meanings: 

 A. Wisdom of fear of heaven. (see 28:3) 

 B. The strength of trust that he will receive the wisdom to complete the task at hand, even though he never learned the craft and never trained his hands for the job. (see 36:2) 

 Therefore, a person who is “Wise at heart” means he is God-fearing and trusting that I (God) gave him wisdom and capability.”

The idea that a person has faith that God will teach and provide the skill is certainly coming from a divine headspace, trusting that God will provide the ability no matter what. But does God really work or operate that way? 

Note his reference to 36:2! There Netziv has another lengthy comment which may clarify for us. There he tells us 

“the verse is telling us how it is possible to put wisdom in one’s heart. Everything is in the hands of heaven, except fear of heaven! That is why it says ‘Everything that moved his heart’ which includes the wisdom/confidence that he can fulfill the task and accept upon himself to come closer to the work, even though he never learned the trade. This is true of any secular line of work, when the heart needs to be attracted to it. This could refer to if someone wants to make a trade school to teach children a profession. He can bring many children, and give them a chance to decide what motivates them. Each says ‘I want to do this’ and this choice helps them pursue a line of training for years. With the Mishkan, things were done in such a way that a person could choose a profession without significant schooling – merely with help from God when one decides a specific field of focus.” 

Unlike in the memoirs mentioned above, Mishkan work is not about physical survival – a person can choose what kind of labor speaks to one’s heart. What is clear, however, is that labor is very important, and gives a person fulfillment. This may be one of the reasons why Shabbos is mentioned (yet again!) in the context of the Mishkan, simply to remind everyone that it is expected that we engage in labor for six days of the week, and to rest on the seventh. (Labor in our times can be defined very differently than in an agrarian society.)

Sha”ch on the Torah has this to add: 

“All the wise people came to do all the holy work. It does not say ‘[some of] the holy work’ but ‘all the holy work…’ which teaches us that each person knew how to do each job, but Moshe called them and saw (in Moshe’s own wisdom) who was a better weaver, or embroiderer, etc. This is what it means that each person was given a specific job – not that he was incapable of other jobs. This is what is meant by ‘a man from his work that they are doing’ when it should say ‘that he is doing.’ If it is meant to be plural, about what all of them are doing, why, then, does it say ‘from his work’? To teach us that as soon as each person began, the work itself would teach the individual (they received a calling). This should come as no surprise to us! God gave them wisdom to deal with animals as well, because as slaves, what did they know of anything other than hard labor, with mortar and bricks. All their artisan-skills and other survival skills came from God-granted wisdom.” 

We need many God-given gifts of wisdom today. The trick with anything that God gifts us is that we need to bring something to that gift-giving occasion. Whether it is our faith and trust in God, our general attitude of “we can accomplish,” or simply making an effort and asking God to carry us the rest of the way, it speaks to Man’s appreciation of the gift of life coming from a divine source that we want to a. get the most out of it, and b. put as much as we can into forging our own destiny because we know God has given us only one life to live. 

May we be blessed to live it to the maximum, always putting in our hishtadlus (effort) while falling back both on our innate God-given skills as well as our appreciation of His role in our lives, so we can look back at a life well lived and feel that we too are blessed to have become חכמי לב – people with a Divinely-graced wisdom because we did our part to build our own skills and talents trusting that God would take us the rest of the way.

Great Effort for a Great Reward - Getting to the Tent

Parshat Ki Tisa

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Following the episode of the Golden Calf, there are a number of scenes the Torah describes which demonstrate how Moshe Rabbenu is not only in a class of his own, but how his personal space becomes a beacon of Kedusha. Perhaps the most famous one is the final image in the Parsha, when Moshe descends from Mt. Sinai with the second set of Luchos, and his face is shining. Please note that the Torah describes the circumstance as קרן עור פני משה, which means “the skin on Moshe’s face shone.” The Hebrew word Or is spelled with a ע (עור = skin) and is not to be confused with the word אור, spelled with an א, which means light. In that tale, Moshe is described as communicating with the people and communicating with the Divine. The irony of the מסוה (commonly translated as mask) that he wore is that he only wore it when he was alone, but not when he was speaking to the people (as implied from 34:33) or communicating with God (34:34-5). 

Another circumstance in which Moshe finds himself being a repository of Kedusha is in chapter 33 when Moshe’s tent is taken outside of the camp, renamed אהל מועד (Tent of Meeting – an appellation elsewhere used to describe the Mishkan/Tabernacle), where he would receive all those who wanted to seek out God (see 33:7). Like the Mishkan (see the end of Chapter 40), a cloud demarcated the presence of the Divine in that particular space, helping people grasp the significance of that space.

What is the significance of Moshe’s taking his tent outside of the camp? Wasn’t Moshe already separate from the camp? See how the people are described as traveling in the beginning of the Book of Bamidbar, and we see how Moshe and Aharon had a very unique address, easily identifiable and easily found!

That last question is a straw-man argument, because the method of travel in that way, with Moshe, Aharon, and Aharon’s family being east of the Mishkan, was only possible after the construction of the Mishkan (which in our case hadn’t taken place yet), and when they were specifically traveling. At this stage, the people have been at Sinai for a few months and won’t be leaving until at least a month after the dedication of the Mishkan (Bamidbar 10:11). Therefore, where Moshe’s tent had been prior to it being taken out of the camp is anyone’s guess. 

Rabbi Moshe Shternbuch suggests that the reason Moshe’s tent needed to be brought outside the camp is to demonstrate that sometimes the idea of getting closer to God requires a person to take action, for people to make an extra effort to bring themselves closer to God. This goal can’t be achieved based on the viewpoint or the “emotional space inhabited” by a large group of people. What if those people are not where they need to be? What if their efforts to get close to God are limiting to themselves and to others who need more? 

People need to get close to Torah on Torah’s terms, not on the terms that people find to be sufficient for them. In the case of the general encampment post Golden Calf, the environment within the camp wasn’t conducive to the higher level of connection and engagement that those who were more sincere in their drive to get closer to God needed. 

He goes on to quote:

 Targum Yonatan – this space, the Ohel Moed, was for those who had done a complete Teshuvah, who had returned to God with all of their heart. Moshe was teaching them the ways of Teshuvah in his private Beis Medrash.

The Belzer Rebbe – This is a much higher level of Teshuvah, when a person needs to leave the comfort zone of one’s own home, to seek out and go out to Moshe’s Beis Medrash, to completely dedicate themselves to the study of Torah, which, as we know, brings atonement for sin (see Rosh Hashana 18a). Not only that, but the simple act of going out of the camp, in a manner mimicking the exit of the שעיר המשתלח/שעיר לעזאזל – the goat that was brought into the wilderness on Yom Kippur, brings about a similar result of atonement. 

 Different sources describe how that goat, in leaving the camp and going to its own final destination, brought about Teshuvah and atonement for those who had even been guilty of חיובי כריתות, negative deeds which would have caused their souls to be cut off from the people of Israel. 

 The message is quite simple – sometimes Teshuvah and Kapparah (repentance and atonement) can best be achieved through making the effort to go out and seek Torah study. And sometimes, not even on account of bad deeds, do we still need to worry that some people will find themselves separated from a community, with the everlasting hope that we can all be reunited.

We are at a fascinating juncture in our general experiences. Many people are much more intrigued to attend an educational film or a fascinating lecture (activities which have great learning potential and are not problematic per se) than to engage in a Torah study class. But if we truly believe the words we utter in our daily prayers – כי הם חיינו וארך ימינו – that the Torah is the source for our lives and our extended days, then it is up to us to challenge ourselves to also take advantage of Torah learning opportunities that take place outside of our home. 

 We have learned in the last 2 years that we can bring Torah into our homes through the Internet, whether through listening to recorded classes that may be days, months, or years old, or through participating in something in real time such as a livestream or Zoom. 

The Torah is teaching us that there is no comparison between Torah on those terms and Torah studied in person. For that, at the very least, we have Shabbos to be thankful for. In speaking to a colleague of a Conservative shul, it became clear that a beautiful benefit we have is that Shabbos (also discussed in our parsha at the end of Chapter 31) forced us to come back to shul very quickly. Since having shul online on Shabbos was never an option for us (thank God), we returned to davening and learning together on Shabbos at a much quicker timeline than non-Orthodox congregations who utilize Internet prayer services on Shabbos. And thank God, we are doing very well – people are coming to daven and learn together on Shabbos, as well as during the week. 

We can and should learn from the model that Moshe presented to the people, that the highest level of kedusha can be achieved when people have to make the effort to go out to the Ohel Moed even if/when it’s a little inconvenient to get to it. The things achieved in that space, after that effort, are of a greater caliber in Kedusha than going at things alone, and therefore help us better live up to the statement we live by that Torah study is the source of the length of our days. 

May we be blessed to continue to make that effort and to be blessed in kind that those efforts should reap the rewards we the Jewish people always hope for – to be able to serve God to the highest level we can achieve in the lives He blesses us to have, and to live our lives to the maximum in our pursuits of heavenly and spiritual growth.

Is God’s Presence Among Us Conditional?

Parshat Tetzaveh

by Rabbi Avi Billet

שמות פרק כט מה: וְשָׁ֣כַנְתִּ֔י בְּת֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל וְהָיִ֥יתִי לָהֶ֖ם לֵא-לֹהִֽים: 

מו: וְיָדְע֗וּ כִּ֣י אֲנִ֤י יְקֹוָק֙ אֱ-לֹ֣הֵיהֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹצֵ֧אתִי אֹתָ֛ם מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם לְשָׁכְנִ֣י בְתוֹכָ֑ם אֲנִ֖י יְקֹוָ֥ק אֱ-לֹהֵיהֶֽם: 

Chapter 29 seemingly ends the instruction for the Mishkan with the following passages: “I will make My presence felt among the Israelites, and I will be a God for them. They will realize that I, God their Lord, brought them out of Egypt to make My presence felt among them. I am God their Lord.” Seemingly, because in chapter 30 we are still given instructions for the small Mizbeach and the Kiyor (washbasin), even though the passage noted clearly closes out the intent of the opening verse which described a purpose of the Mishkan – “ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם. You shall make me a Sanctuary, and I will dwell amongst you/them.” (Shmos 25:8) 

Using the same language, both the Pesikta (Lekach Tov) and Rashi suggest that the letter ל in the phrase לשכני בתוכם (in פסוק מו, verse 46 above) suggests that God is saying “I took them out of Egypt על מנת, on the condition that I will dwell among them.” This terminology is, at the very least, worthy of discussion. Could it possibly be that God took the Israelites out of Israel on this condition? 

Just for comparison, Rashbam uses the word כדי (in order to) dwell among them, while Ibn Ezra explains the passage a little differently using the word בעבור, so that they’ll make Me a Mishkan that I may dwell amongst them (see also Chizkuni). These latter interpretations don’t imply a condition as much as they imply intent for what will be an outcome of the Exodus. Ibn Ezra proves his point through comparing this outcome to the verse in Shmos 3:12 when God gives Moshe a sign that all this is real, as “When you take the Israelites out of Egypt you will serve God on this mountain.” 

 In his “Peirush HaKatzar” Ibn Ezra writes “I took them out to have them make Me (לעשות לי) a Mishkan and I will dwell among them. I will be a God to them, with faith of the heart, and they are obligated to serve Me.” 

 Ramban takes issue with Rashi’s interpretation of the ל in לשכני: 

“Rashi suggests a condition. But the prefix ל is not typically used for a condition. Perhaps the Pasuk is saying ‘They will know through my dwelling in their midst that I am Hashem their God Who took them out of Egypt. They will know My glory and will believe that it was I Who took them out from Egypt.’ Ramban brings 3 cases where a ל is used instead of a ב to prove his assertion against Rashi’s interpretation, then he approvingly quotes Ibn Ezra as noted above, “I brought them out of Egypt so that they’d make Me a Mishkan that I would dwell in their midst” 

Ramban continues: “and if this is correct then there is a great secret (סוד) here, For in the plain sense of things it would appear that [the dwelling of] the Divine Glory in Israel was to fulfill a want below, but it is not so. It fulfilled a want above, being rather similar in thought to that which Scripture states, Israel, in whom I will be glorified. (Yeshayahu 49:3). And Joshua said, [For when the Canaanites… hear of it… and cut off our name from the earth,] and what wilt Thou do for Thy Great Name?(Yehoshua 7:9). There are many verses which express this thought: He hath desired it [i.e., Zion] for His habitation; (Tehillim 132:13). Here I dwell; for I have desired it. (Tehillim 132:14). And it is further written, and I will remember the land.” 

The Mishkan, therefore, fulfills a higher purpose than simply having God dwell amongst the people. This kabbalistic exposition certainly does not agree with the implication that the Exodus’ was conditional for God to have a dwelling purpose on this earth. 

Rabbenu Bachaye goes so far to interpret the verse to mean “that the purpose of the Exodus was to bring about that God’s Shechinah would rest amongst the Jewish people.” Based on a verse in Hoshea 13:4, he further notes that “the whole Exodus was orchestrated in order for the first of the Ten Commandments, ‘I am the Lord your God, etc.,’ to be acknowledged by the Jewish people. This is the reason why the words מארץ מצרים appear in the middle of this verse.” 

He continues suggesting, based on a passage in Midrash Tehillim (114) in the name of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, “the Israelites were redeemed from Egypt through the merit of the Tabernacle….The words אשר הוצאתי אותם may mean that the condition of taking the people out of Egypt had been in order for what is reported at the very end of the Book of Exodus to occur.” 

While the Panim Yafot (R Pinchas HaLevi Horowitz) sides with Ibn Ezra and Ramban, it is the Maharal, in his Gur Aryeh, who not only comes to Rashi’s defense, but also explains for us what he believes Rashi actually meant – not that על מנת means a condition, but that through על מנת Rashi was saying “You shouldn’t think that the MAIN reason for the Exodus was that the Mishkan should be built, but that A reason for the Exodus was so that God would have a place on earth in which to dwell His presence.” 

In other words, a goal of the Exodus was to achieve God’s having a dwelling place, which is not to say that the Exodus’ purpose was for God to have a dwelling place. 

This makes a lot of sense, especially when we consider that we no longer have a Mishkan or a Mikdash! Or HaChaim, for example, notes that God’s mentioning אֲנִ֤י יְקֹוָק֙ אֱ-לֹ֣הֵיהֶ֔ם twice in the verse is “to remind us that even when His presence is not directly seen or felt [due to the absence of a Mishkan, etc] He is still our God and we are His people.” (Rav SR Hirsch and Malbim write similar ideas.) 

Toppling the whole idea, Netziv notes the verse we say at the end of the 3rd paragraph of the Shema, אני ה' אלהיכם אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלהים, which implies that “I took you out of Egypt to be your God.” Following that grammar, the words here should be לשכון בתוכם – which would be much easier to understand in light of Maharal’s comment! So instead Netziv interprets לשכני to imply that God’s presence was already amongst the people in Egypt. It was God’s presence with Israel in Egypt which caused the Exodus! The verse is therefore saying, “I am Hashem their God who took them out of Egypt, so that My Presence can continue to be among them” because it was otherwise going to fade from their minds if they had continued to stay there. 

What we see from these varied explanations – all more grounded in trying to understand Rashi than in trying to explain the text – is that our continued remembrance of the Exodus, in one form or another, is what keeps God’s presence among us. If we are to truly live a Godly existence, it is our constant memory of the Exodus, and memorializing the Exodus, which brings God’s presence ever so much more easily felt in our daily lives. 

May we merit both to remember the Exodus, which is a mitzvah, and to thus merit to feel God’s presence regularly.

Mishkan's Success Comes From Outside the Mishkan

Parshat Terumah

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 When we come around the parshas which focus on the Mishkan, we may find ourselves thinking if there is a deeper message to be gleaned from a text that spends so much time focusing on the details of a structure that was made to exist for a limited time in history – the wilderness period, followed by however long it would take for the Mishkan to remain God’s temporary home until the construction of the Beit Hamikdash. 

 Rabbi Shimshon Refael Hirsch wrote a number of essays on the symbolism of the Mishkan, ranging from the materials utilized for the construction of the various vessels, to the symbolism in the final products themselves. 

To put things in context of what God wants, he quotes one (of many) prophet messages – this one is from Yirmiyahu 7:2-15, 21-23: 

 2 Stand in the gate of the house of the Lord, and proclaim there this word, and say; Hearken to the word of the Lord, all Judah who come into these gates to prostrate yourselves before the Lord. 3 So said the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel; Improve your ways and your deeds, I will allow you to dwell in this place. 4 Do not rely on false words, saying: The Temple of the Lord, the Temple of the Lord, the Temple of the Lord are they. 5 For if you improve your ways and your deeds, if you perform judgment between one man and his fellowman, 6 [if] you do not oppress a stranger, an orphan, or a widow, and you do not shed innocent blood in this place, and you do not follow other gods for your detriment, 7 I will allow you to dwell in this place, in the land that I gave your forefathers from days of yore to eternity. 8 Behold, you rely on false words, of no avail. 9 Will you steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, offer up to Baal, and follow other gods that you know not, 10 And will you come and stand before Me in this house, upon which My name is called, and say, "We are saved," in order to commit all these abominations? 11 Has this house upon which My name is called, become a cave of profligate men in your eyes? I, too, behold I have seen it, says the Lord. 12 For go now to My place that is in Shiloh, where I caused My name to rest at first, and see what I did to it because of the wickedness of My people Israel. 13 And now, because you have committed all these acts, says the Lord, and I spoke to you, going early and speaking, but you did not hearken, and I called you, but you did not respond. 14 And I will do to the house upon which My name is called, upon which you rely, and to the place that I gave you and your forefathers, as I did to Shiloh. 15 And I will cast you away from My presence as I cast all your brothers, all the seed of Ephraim…. 

 21 So says the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel; Add your burnt offerings upon your sacrifices and eat flesh. 22 For neither did I speak with your forefathers nor did I command them on the day I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning a burnt offering or a sacrifice. 23 But this thing did I command them, saying: Obey Me so that I am your God and you are My people, and you walk in all the ways that I command you, so that it may be well with you. 

Concluding his introduction to his discussion of the Sanctuary (and after quoting much of Vayikra 26, and from Melachim I chapter 9), Hirsch writes, “God’s dwelling in our midst means that His beneficent and protecting presence will be felt in every aspect of our lives. Moreover, God’s presence in our midst is not dependent on the existence of the Temple, but, in the final analysis, solely on whether we sill sanctify and dedicate all of our lives to the fulfillment of His holy will, to the fulfillment of His law.” 

 While it is understood that the details of the Mishkan’s construction were for a particular and very specific time, the emphasis on the precision that went into its construction was to remind the people that perfection can be achieved in the service of God. 

 People who were skilled in the various artistic labors in construction, metal works, weaving, etc were invited to participate. This allowed many people to have a hand in setting up the space for where the service of God would take place. 

 But as many prophets have noted, the service of God that takes place in the Sanctuary, as is the case in every single shul, is SECONDARY to how people treat one another. It is the chesed that people show to one another, the concern that people demonstrate for one another, the non judgmentalism, the accepting people for who they are, for where they are in life, for the decisions each person makes, which all combine to determine for God whether we are worthy of His divine countenance shining upon us. 

 His reasons for allowing the Mishkan of Shilo to be destroyed, for allowing the first two Temples to be destroyed, always focused on “Bein Adam LaChaveiro” – the interpersonal relationships and the litmus test of how people treated one another. 

 If we judge people favorably, don’t speak Lashon Hora, avoid Machlokes (especially over silly things), look for the good in others, and seek the good we can do for others, we are well on the way of seeing the fulfillment of the arguably most famous verse in Terumah: ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם – “You shall make for Me a sanctuary and I shall dwell in them,” which is explained by many commentaries to mean that when you sanctify yourselves and turned yourselves into repositories of holiness, I (God says) will live within each and every one of you. 

May we merit to be sources of kindness and goodness so we can merit to be repositories of God’s holiness.

Having to Live With Ourselves

Parshat Mishpatim 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In his very first comment on the Parsha, Rashi asks why the set of rules that comprise Parshas Mishpatim are told to us right after the rules of the Mizbeach, as described at the end of Parshas Yisro? “To tell you that you are to place the Sanhedrin right next to the Mikdash/Mizbeach.” (Both versions – Mikdash and Mizbeach – appear in Rashi, indicating a non-clear designation of exactly where the Sanhedrin will be seated. This could be Rashi’s doing, or it can be the comment of an editor. Suffice it to say, Rashi may not have felt a need to elaborate because he felt it was obvious.) 

Rashi’s question is stirred on by the fact that he is of the view that the rules of Mishpatim were told to Moshe while he was on Mt. Sinai, a trip he doesn’t take until the end of the parsha (in chapte24). Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrachi, one of the super-commentator’s on Rashi, elaborates Rashi’s question, asking why the laws are mentioned in the context of instruction for the Mizbeach, seemingly out of order of how they were presented to Moshe! The proximity of both sets of rules “is to tell you to have the Sanhedrin set up next to the Mikdash in the Lishkas HaGazis (a separate dedicated room) which is close to the Mizbeach.” 

A possible reason for the Sanhedrin to be so close to the Mizbeach is to allow for the Sanhedrin to be able to observe the humanity of the Jewish people at their basic form of service of God. People bring korbanos (offerings) as a responsibility, as a devotion, as a form of gratitude, or on account of a sin (this list is not exhaustive). All are trying to feel closer to the Almighty, and through their sincere offerings, they demonstrate who they are at their core. 

While it can certainly be argued that “Justice must be blind” and that the Sanhedrin can’t show favoritism or sway the law in any manner that is improper, this does not mean that the Sanhedrin can’t take into account an individual’s humanity in certain errors brought their way! Certainly much of Mishpatim includes the law’s need to discern certain truths about people which play a factor in some of their mistaken ways. Perhaps we can take the imagery further and suggest that the “Mizbach Adamah” – the Mizbeach made of earth – is meant to keep the Sanhedrin “grounded” and “down to earth,” so they never lose sight of their obligation, even through their deliberations and judgments, to follow the drasha on וראהו הכהן (when a Kohen examines a person who has a tzaraas affliction) – which is to see the person, and not just the blemish that needs to be judged. 

To be intellectually honest, Rabbi Samson R Hirsch rejects such a concept: “The whole idea of the right of pardon is absent in the code law of the Jewish state. Justice and judgment are God’s, not man’s. When the precisely defined Law of God – which leaves no room for human arbitrariness – ordains death for a criminal, the execution of the sentence is not a harsh act that can be commuted in consideration of the circumstances, but is itself a most considerate atonement – for the community, for the land, for the criminal…” (21:14) 

At the same time, to be fair to the other perspective, he says this in the context of a case against a deliberate murderer. Would the same apply in a case that is a little more gray than black and white? Perhaps it is easy to understand how a court might conceptually be more lenient when a person sins between himself or herself and God, or when the error of one’s ways against another human being is easily rectified. 

Does anything change when the Sanhedrin is confronted with a case where someone has committed murder? Is it different if the charge is voluntary manslaughter, or involuntary manslaughter (which are both different from murder on account of how “intent” or “lack of intent” is defined in a specific case, as well as the degree of negligence demonstrated in the act that took a life). 

The Torah gives us a case of murder in 21:14 when a person, בערמה, with guile, commits a murder, “He is to be taken from My Mizbeach for execution.” This phraseology is open to a number of interpretations: even if he is a kohen, he is to be taken to his death without allowing him to start / complete his service (Pesikta, Rashi, Targum Yonatan, Ibn Ezra, etc); the example of Yoav who ran to the Mizbeach to avoid arrest and execution, the Mizbeach was not to serve as a refuge, certainly not for someone who was to be executed by the king (Ibn Ezra, Rabbenu Bachaye, Haktav V’hakabbalah, etc); Rabbenu Bachaye adds the important reminder that “since he’s a murderer who is guilty and deserving of death, the pasuk commands us to take him out, and to give him over to those who have a complaint against him (ie. relatives of his victim who might take his life) because he is undeserving of compassion and mercy. Mercy in this situation [to a murderer] is in fact cruelty to all others.” 

All of these interpretations follow a similar pattern. A person who has murdered deliberately, without just cause (such as an act of defense, for oneself or defending another), while ignoring the warning of witnesses who subsequently testify against him, he is to be taken away from the Mizbeach, which, in light of Rashi’s opening statement in our parsha, would mean that at the very least he would be taken from in front of the Sanhedrin (which is at the Mizbeach) and executed elsewhere. Especially in light of how Rabbenu Bachaye views capital punishment for a deliberate murder as being an act of compassion towards the rest of the community (since keeping him alive would be an act of cruelty to everyone), we can at least understand, even if in our 21st century molding of the mind some of us may have a moral case against capital punishment. 

Arguably the most difficult concept to understand on this passage (21:14), however, is Rashi’s defense (based on the Mechilta) of individuals who commit involuntary manslaughter for the simple reason that their intent was not בערמה, with guile. They include the physician, Beis Din’s lashes-giver, a father who strikes his child, a Rebbe who strikes his student, and the accidental murderer. The explanation? Even though in each case the person in question intended to do what he did – ie, the doctor used an experimental treatment or messed up in surgery causing the patient’s death, the lashes-giver gave (on Beis Din’s authority, and on the say-so of a physician appointed by Beis Din to assess the health of the lashes-recipient) one lash too many which caused the death of the lashes-recipient, the father who potched his child too hard, and the Rebbe who disciplined too hard causing the child’s death – death was never on the mind of the so-called perpetrator! 

Can it really be true that these deaths, while notably tragic, have no repercussions to the one’s guilty of causing the death? How can we honestly argue it’s involuntary? The doctor knows there is risk in what he’s doing. In weighing the pros and cons, he made a choice that cost his patient’s life. The lashes-giver should have recused himself at the point he felt the person could not handle another Makkah as he watched the person deteriorate in front of his eyes. And it is very hard to have sympathy for the father or Rebbe who can deliver a blow that could lead to the death of the recipient. It’s hard to call it involuntary with a mighty blow like that! 

Perhaps we can say there was no intent to cause the loss of life. One saving grace. But seriously, how could there be ZERO repercussions to those who cause this kind of loss of life? Rabbi Chaim Paltiel calls them מזידין! People who deliberately did the action involved, but were saved because “they were not מערימין” (they didn’t behave with guile). It is true! Find me one of these individuals – the doctor, the Beis Din emissary, the father, the rebbe – who is pleased with the outcome. There isn’t one. Each one will regret how far things went, and will certainly acknowledge (if honest) that the actions taken were wrong and the outcome most tragic. 

How could there not even be a slap on the wrist and a warning? Alshikh, for example notes the distinction between someone who kills בשוגג, accidentally, and one who murders on purpose, that the reason to take the murderer out to his death is because “it is good for him to die immediately and to achieve atonement through his death and his ווידוי.” He doesn’t extend that argument to the one who is not classified as a מזיד. 

No one should be able to speak from experience. But I wonder, for someone who has this happen, what does the rest of life look like? Does living with the guilt of having killed someone undeserving of death serve as its own punishment? It’s almost as if a judge might say, “Look what you did. Now you have to live with yourself for the rest of your life.” 

While we certainly hope that kind of regret is one no one should ever have to face, there are many choices we make that we can consider, or reconsider, and do differently when faced with similar situations. What will we do to not live life with regrets? To never have to worry that “I have to live with myself” over what I did that impacted someone else’s life. 

May we be blessed to have clarity of vision, and clarity of all life paths going forward so we can always “live with ourselves” because our choices have been the kind we’d love our family members to write about when they tell the story of their ancestors, who not only never committed an act of involuntary manslaughter, but did all they could to lift us up, to encourage, to inspire, to serve as role models, to be there for a phone call, a little assistance and always an encouraging word.

The Sinai Experience – Unifying a People Apart

This is an expansion of this Dvar Torah

 Parshat Yitro

There is no question that the highlight of our parsha is the lead-in to and the declaration of the Aseres HaDibros, the Ten Statements that some call the Ten Commandments, of chapter 19 and 20 respectively. 

 There is a clear link between the events of Refidim (water and Amalek battle) and the arrival at Sinai (see 19:2 “ויסעו מרפידים” - they traveled from Refidim). This connection may serve to indicate that Yisro’s visit is simply thematically connected, but not chronological in the story (following views of Rashi and Ibn Ezra that Yisro’s presence is after the giving of the Torah). 

 Kli Yakar looks at the name Refidim, noting it has the same letters as פרידים (Peridim) – which means the people were divided. Is it any wonder that the event with the rock and the water is called Masah U’Mrivah, which reference fighting? He adds that on account of their division רפו ידיהם – they removed their hands from the Torah. 

 After the water incident, they were attacked by Amalek, which forced them to band together to fight a common enemy. Perhaps this is what is meant by זכור את אשר עשה לך עמלק – remember, what Amalek did to you, you being in the singular. Amalek united all of you against a common enemy. This was not the Modus operandus du jour of the Israelites in the wilderness. Targum Yonatan notes that the people were as one heart at Sinai, but Rashi (based on the Mechilta) expands on that sentiment noting that was not the case at any other encampment - אבל שאר כל החניות בתרעומת ובמחלוקת - “all other encampments were filled with complaints and argumentation.” Kli Yakar notes the singularity of the Sinai experience through first noting כי בקשת הכבוד והשררה סיבה לכל ריב ולכל נגע, that the pursuit of kavod and of ruling-power was the source for every fight and plague, but now that they realized how small Sinai actually was, אז ראו שהקב"ה בוחר בענוים! Now they saw that God prefers humble entities. Certainly mountains, and even moreso humans. 

 SEEING Sinai caused them to embrace the feeling of submission – in other words, to avoid strife – so that they could embrace PEACE. The essence of the mountain, עניוות, is what brought about the peace among the factions of Israelites. 

 Read carefully how the Torah presents their arrival. א) בַּחֹ֙דֶשׁ֙ הַשְּׁלִישִׁ֔י לְצֵ֥את בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרָ֑יִם בַּיּ֣וֹם הַזֶּ֔ה בָּ֖אוּ מִדְבַּ֥ר סִינָֽי: THEY (in the plural) came to the wilderness of Sinai ב) וַיִּסְע֣ו מֵרְפִידִ֗ים וַיָּבֹ֙אוּ֙ מִדְבַּ֣ר סִינַ֔י וַֽיַּחֲנ֖וּ בַּמִּדְבָּ֑ר וַיִּֽחַן־שָׁ֥ם יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל נֶ֥גֶד הָהָֽר: THEY traveled from Refidim, THEY came to Sinai, and THEY camped in the wilderness (all plurals with the suffix וּ). Then the singular ISRAEL camped at the Mountain. 

 Wilderness-wise they were still many people, many opinions, not united. But when they got to the mountain, as they realized God would reveal Himself on this particular and specific mountain, they realized the key ingredient to accepting the Torah was humility!... then they were כאיש אחד בלב אחד – united in every way as one. 

 The Gemara in Shabbos 89b gives a number of explanations for why the mountain and its surrounding wilderness were called סיני, some of which are subsequently challenged. 

 Rav Kahana – it’s a play on words. סיני because ניסים (miracles) were done for Israel there. 

 Challenge: Then it should be called הר ניסאי! (“Mount Miracles”) 

 

Gemara suggests – סיני because it sound like סימן טוב – good things happened to Israel there. 

 Challenge: Then it should be called הר סימנאי! (“Mount Good Signs”) 

 

Gemara explains why it was really called Sinai הר שירדה שנאה לאמות העולם עליו. It is a mountain at which hostility was descended toward the nations (סיני and שנאה sound similar). 

 The Gemara presents a similar argument as it explains what Sinai’s real name was: חורב. It was called Horeb because שירדה חורבה לאמות העולם עליו. Because desolation [hurbah] to idolaters descended thereon. 

 Rashi explains the “hatred” or the “destruction” to the nations of the world as meaning their moral compass was demonstrably skewed! He says שלא קבלו בו תורה, simply because they themselves didn’t receive the Torah. [We are not getting into the question of whether people who are not guided by the Torah can live moral lives – of course they can! Nor are we entertaining the question of those who seem to live a life governed by the Torah, yet who are immoral.] 

 But the Gemara’s reality focuses on who did accept the Torah there? And the answer of course is the בני ישראל - in a crescendo of a 400-years process, during which time the descendants of Avraham had so many traumatic experiences. On individual levels they were going in different directions. Every personality was different, every family had a different outlook, and everyone had a different idea of what it meant to be freed from slavery, to leave the norm of Egypt – bad as it was – and begin to live a life תחת כנפי השכינה – under the wings of the Divine. Or על כנפי נשרים – on the wings of Neshers – as it were. 

 They arrived at Sinai, for the experience of Sinai, and they were united because the mountain demonstrated for them that the Torah isn’t just for the mighty and lofty and powerful. The Torah is for everybody. And everybody has a personal challenge, to ask oneself, how am I making the Torah mine? 

The Aseres Hadibros are written in the singular! It is as if God was speaking to every Jew, face to face, so that each Israelite could internalize the message, take the lessons, and apply the Torah as an individual mandate – as part of the collective Am Yisrael. 

 The Aseres HaDibros are timeless. And while they don’t need updating, perhaps an expansion on the Bein Adam LaChaveiro side would do us wonders. 

1. Believe that every Jew has value, and that Hashem loves every Jew. 

2. We should not worship any rabbinic leader, government leader, social activist, government organization or media company, especially (in the latter cases) when they pit human beings against one another. In the former, if they do what they do, say what they say, preach what they preach for any goal other than for the sake of heaven and the enhancement of human relationships, they are in the wrong position. 

3. Don’t put any instruction given by human beings above the basic premise of “Loving your neighbor” – even if you disagree with your neighbor 

4. Remember that every human being is created in the image of God. And only if that person damages the image of God (through murdering other people or denying others’ humanity through other horrific crimes) is the person to be treated in kind 

5. We honor those deserving of honor, including our elders and those who conduct themselves, and all of their affairs, with dignity and humility 

6. Do not destroy the life of the non-criminal (or innocent of sin) through Lashon Hora, even if you disagree with someone and believe you are right 

7. Do not betray a confidence if someone shares private information, unless someone is in physical danger – whether from someone else or potentially self-inflicted 

 8. Do not steal or tarnish a person’s good name just because the person holds an unpopular opinion (argue against the opinion if necessary, but leave the personal out of it!) 

9. If a dispute can’t be settled in person or through an intermediary, bring it to a respectable unbiased Beis Din. Both parties must agree to go so the dispute can be resolved with both sides accepting the ruling. 

10. Observance of the Torah is based on Anivus (humility), which means we are all imperfect and we know it. Just as we don’t want to change, we can’t expect others to change; just as we have a yetzer tov and a yetzer hara we struggle with all the time, so does everyone else have their own personal battles we know nothing about.

Too often people play God in their view of others. It is not our responsibility to decide what is best for other people, nor is it our responsibility to judge what determines a person’s place in our communities. Some people love Torah learning. Some can’t find the time for it. Some people shun sports and modernity, some people love sports and modernity. Some are careful about Cholov Yisrael, some follow Rav Moshe Feinstein’s teaching that in America, all milk is kosher. Some people don’t like concerts, some get spiritual highs from concerts. Some people have an amazing relationship with Hashem, some people struggle with the concept of God. Some find davening meaningful all the time, some don’t – ever. Some are more strict about halakhot, some are more lenient. Some people find an observant life easy, some struggle mightily. Some people think what a person wears defines the person’s Jewishness, some people are satisfied with simply being modest in dress. Some people don’t see modesty as a big deal. Just as every person’s medical profile is private, and should be no one else’s business (beyond physicians and close family members), we do not determine anyone’s place in the community based on those private decisions. 

 There is supposed to be room for all types in our community. We are all, by design, wired differently. Any set of parents who have more than one child know very well that even children who come from the same exact DNA can be so so so different from one another. Certainly that is true of all of humanity who do not come from the exact same two parents! 

 The Kli Yakar’s lesson was that the seeking of Kavod is what caused Machlokes, and the lesson of Anivus, of humility that was learned merely from LOOKING at Har Sinai, is what brought the Jewish people together, בלב אחד with one heart, כאיש אחד as one person. 

 It was called Sinai, because from there “Sinah went down upon the nations” – it doesn’t mean hatred. It just means there’s a difference between “us” and “them” – and that difference is that ALL of us (All of the Jewish people) received the Torah. And so, it is so important to remember that while Ahavas Yisrael is meant to lead us to love all Jews regardless… certainly all those who identify with Torah, and who struggle to do their best in their dedication to it and in their dedication to the Ribono Shel Olam, should be loved unconditionally. 

 If we can remember all we have in common, and do what we can to increase Ahavas Yisrael, hopefully we can experience once again, in a manner that need not be fleeting, what it means to be בלב אחד כאיש אחד, as we all embrace the Torah as one nation, as each one of us struggles to make the most of our relationships with, and our commitments to God, while never neglecting our duties toward accepting the humanity of other people, especially our fellow Jews.