Monkey See

 

“And you saw their abominations and their vulgarities – the wood, stone, silver, and gold (idols) that they keep with them.”

D’varim 29:16

 

The Jews had just seen the idolatrous practice of the nations that they had passed through. The torah calls these idols, “shikutzeihem,” and “gilluleihem.” Abominations. Rashi points out that literally the word “gilluleihem,” means feces. The Jews viewed those disgusting practices the way that they would have viewed human waste. And yet the Torah goes on to warn the Jews that if they are attracted to those forms of worship they dare not engage in them. The Torah in one breath emphasizes that Jews saw those practices as disgusting, and that nevertheless there were many who desired them. The Torah warns those people to stay away.[1] Man is incredibly affected by what he sees, and thus, even seeing something that seems as disgusting as feces, can nevertheless attract the person

 

One who witnesses a Sotah in her state of disgrace should steer clear of drinking wine. To teach us this, the Torah placed the laws of Nazir next to the laws of the Sotah. The adulterous act that the Sotah perpetrated, is something that comes of a frivolous mentality, and more often than not, it is brought on by drinking alcohol. Thus, one who witnesses the depths to which a Jewish soul can sink when it loses the level-headed approach to life that befits it, should himself commit not to lose sight of what is important in life. Any yet, it would seem surprising that the man who witnessed the downfall of the wicked person would be in danger of repeating that mistake. If anything, I would have thought that the fellow who has never seen a Sotah explode is more likely to be enticed into sin that the one who saw her stomach implode, and her guts on the floor! The Torah teaches us, that one who witnesses evil is affected. He has now seen that the sin is possible. Other people have done it. Once something is in the realm of possibility, it is no longer so foreign, and one is more likely to succumb to his desires.

 

When the Jews left Egypt, they were at the top of the world. The surrounding civilizations were fully aware that Hashem had stepped in and taken a little nation from the world’s superpower in a show of one miracle after another. There was no question about it. Any suggestion of attacking the Jewish people would have been laughed at. And yet, Amalek went ahead and did it. “They cooled you down in your traveling.”[2] Rashi quotes a Midrash that compares the Jewish nation at that time to a scalding bath. When a man jumps into a scalding tub, he may burn himself horribly, but he also cools that tub off for others. Other nations saw that Amalek was beaten badly, and yet they had no compunction copying Amalek in the coming years. For once it was possible to attack the Jewish people, the tub was no longer so hot. It did not seem like such a difficult thing, for though Amalek got burned, they nevertheless attacked the Jews, and now that was a possibility that could be imitated.

 

The opposite is true as well. When we see a good person, we can then see that righteousness is within our reach as well. On the day that Sara was remembered by Hashem and conceived Yitzchak, many barren women were remembered by Hashem and conceived too.”[3] The Taz[4] wonders how these women knew that their fertility was related to Sara, and not some other reason. He explains that it was only those who knew of Sara, and heard of her miracle gained the necessary bitachon (faith) to trust in Hashem and thus merit bearing children despite their barren natures! It was only when they saw Sara that they too could relate to that sort of faith.

 

The great R. Shlomo Ganzfried[5] brings this idea out in another fashion. He wonders why it is that Akeidas Yitzchak is considered by the Torah to be a test of Avraham rather than Yitzchak. “And Hashem tested Avraham.”[6] After all – wasn’t Yitzchak’s giving up of his life a great challenge as well? He quotes the Drashos Haran, who explains that after the very first time in world history that a challenge is overcome, that challenge becomes far easier for everyone else to overcome themselves. Avraham, he explains, had already offered his life up for Hashem when Nimrod attempted to kill him in the fiery furnace of Ur Kasdim. It was thus not as great a challenge for his son Yitzchak to give his life for Hashem. But to give one’s child had never been done. Thus, Avraham was the only one legitimately challenged to the ultimate degree, for he was told to do something that had never ever been done before. It is amazing to note how after world records that have stood for years are broken, they suddenly are broken many times over. The four minute mile, or Roger Maris’ long standing home run record are just two examples. Just after they were broken came a succession of people who broke those same records again, quickly! After one person does something, it is somehow much easier for the rest to follow suit.  (This also offers us a deep insight into what our forefathers have done for us. For a Jew today to sacrifice for Hashem, for Shabbos, for kosher food – all these tests have been successfully passed before – and thus we can and must know that it is within our reach to pass these tests as well. We are privileged to come from such giants.)

 

On another level, the very fact that we see something wrong is an indication of our spiritual state. The Baal Shem Tov said that one who witnesses a sin, can only have witnessed that if he himself has some flaw in that area. When Noah wanted to know if the flood was over, he sent the raven out to check for him. But the raven did not do the bidding of Noah. Rather, he circled the ark and came right back, for he was concerned that Noah would mate with his raven-wife while he was gone.[7] How ludicrous! Aside for the problem of logistics, for Noah was a man and Mrs. Raven was a raven – why on earth would the righteous Noah, who had survived the flood by virtue of his never engaging in arayos, suddenly compromise his values for a female raven? On Noah’s ark the animals did not mate with one another.[8] For, the world was in a state of turmoil and even the animal kingdom somehow sensed that cohabitation was inappropriate. The exceptions were Ham, son of Noah, the dog, and the raven.[9] The raven was drawn to the physical more than other animals. He thus saw the world through his own eyes. Should someone else have left their mate alone, he would have attempted to mate with her. Thus, he projected that upon Noah. “Kol haposel bimumo posel - when one sees faults in others, that fault is [almost always] present in he himself,[10]” the Gemara tells us. Thus, the raven saw Noah as a threat.[11]

 

We must know that what we see affects us. It can drag us up and down. We can become like Avraham and Sara, or we can become, heaven forbid, like other nations who imitate Amalek to this day. We must take care to see good things, and when we see things that can hurt us, even the destruction of those who sin (like the Sotah,) we must know that there is a reason that Hashem had us see it, and that it can affect us badly if we do not respond as the Torah demands.

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[1] See Daas Torah to Nitzavim

[2] D’varim 25:18

[3] Bereshis Rabbah 53:8

[4] R. Dovid b. Shmuel Halevi, in his Divrei David to Genesis 18:6

[5] Apiriyon to Bereshis 22:1

[6] Bereshis 22:1

[7] Sanhedrin 108b

[8] See Rashi Bereshis 8:1

[9] Sanhedrin 108b

[10] Kiddushin 70b, Rambam Issurei Biyah 19:17

[11]Gur Aryeh (Maharal) to Bereshis 8:7

Shabbos All Week

“And Yitzchak brought her into the tent of Sara his mother.”

Bereshis 24:67

 

 

 

“In the tent of Sara, there was a candle that always burnt – from one erev Shabbos, until the next, when Rivka entered that tent, this blessing returned.”[1] When Yitzchak saw this, he was then prepared to marry Rivka.[2] What was this candle all about? Why did it remain lit, and why did it matter?

 

In a letter to R. Yissachar Tietchell[3], R. Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld wrote that this candle was the Shabbos candle, and it remained lit all week for in Sara’s tent, Shabbos was felt all week. It is customary for women to refrain from drinking the Havdalah wine at the conclusion of Shabbos. R. Sonnenfeld explains that this is due to the power that women have to extend that Shabbos into the weekday, and therefore, they ought to have a little less to do with the Havdalah, for Havdalah emphasizes the separation of Shabbos and weekday! We must discover - what is the nature of this power, and what does it mean that women posses it?

 

Shammai would live the entire week preparing for the Shabbos, for when he found a nice piece animal, he would purchase it and save it for the Shabbos. He inevitably found a nicer animal, and purchased that one too, and then took the first one and ate it during the week. He would eat the first one, so that the nicer one would be for Shabbos. Thus all of his food during the week was really part of his preparation for the Shabbos.[4] Because Shammai spent his money on the first animal in order to have it for Shabbos, the fact that in the end he would enjoy it during the week did not make it any less for the honor of Shabbos! Shabbos spilt over and colored his entire week.

 

When we make Kiddush on Friday night, we begin it with the words, “Yom Hashishi, the sixth day.” This is odd, for it is a fragment of a full sentence. In fact, we are meant to begin quietly with the words “Vayihi Erev, Vayihi boker,” “and it was evening and it was morning,” and the we recite “yom Hashishi aloud.” There is a Midrash[5] which tells us that “Yom Hashishi Vayehchulu Hashomayim,” is the source for “tosefes Shabbos.” Tosefes Shabbos is the obligation that we have to add a bit onto the Shabbos of the weekday, and to treat that time as thought it is Shabbos as well. The first letters of each word of “Yom Hashishi Vayehchulu Hashomayim,” are Yod – Hey – Vav - Hey, which spell out the name of Hashem. When we add on the last two words in the Torah about Friday to the first two words of Shabbos, we discover Hashem’s name. Therefore we recite those two words aloud, before reading about the Shabbos at Kiddush. Holiness truly comes when we can attach the secular to the holy, and bring the holy into our mundane lives. It is not enough to live spiritual lives in the synagogue. We must live those principles of Shabbos and spirituality in our ordinary worldly lives. We can learn out to add from the Shabbos to our week when we notice that the name of Hashem appears when we attach those parts of the Torah. So on Friday nights, we emphasize that message by loudly intoning only the fragment of the sentence that will spell out the name of Hashem.[6]

 

The woman has this special ability to infuse the divine into the worldly aspects of the family life. This world was created with the letter “Hey” while the next was created with the letter “Yod.” There are both letters of Hashem’s name. We are told that man has the letter “Yod” is his name “Ish,” and the woman has the letter “Hey,” in “Isha.” When man and woman come together properly in marriage, the letters join and the bring the divine presence into their home. The man is connected to the letter that created the world to come. His pursuits are related more directly to the spiritual while the woman’s are related to the more secular. But that is all somewhat superficial. It is the job of a woman to elevate the physical elements of life and to help turn them into spiritual things. Based upon the Drashos Haran[7], Rav Yonason David Shlita[8] compares the man/woman relationship to that of the Sanhedrin and King. The Sanhedrin was responsible making scholarly spiritual decisions. Man is charged with learning that Torah, and has more mitzvos to keep. The King carried a Torah around with him at all times.[9] It was his responsibility to build roads, and wage wars. There is no direct reference in to Torah about each road, or decision the King would have to make. It was his job to have imbibed the spirit of the Torah so completely that he would be capable of making those decisions. The Sanhedrin had a very black and white code to consult. The King dealt in all of the gray areas. Man is charged with being the Sanhedrin of his family, and giving the family the benefit of his spiritual achievement. The woman is charged with offering the family the benefit of her ability to engage in the more earthly pursuits, and elevate those to the highest of planes.

 

Shabbos is holy, but the weekdays are secular. A woman’s job is to take this world  that was created with the letter “Hey,[10]” – her letter[11] - and connect it to the Shabbos, to the spiritual and eternal.[12] [This gives us some incredible insight into the power of the male/female relationship on the Shabbos!] It is thus not suggested for her to drink the wine from the Havdalah, after she never really needs to separate from the Shabbos. Sara’s tent was never missing the Shabbos, but when she died, Avraham and Yitzchak were left without that Shabbos light of Sara’s that managed to burn the entire week. It was only when Yitzchak saw that Rivka could bring that light back into the weekday, that he knew that this was the woman who was to be the mother to all Jews, and who would implant in her daughters and granddaughters that ability to extend the light of Shabbos, from one week to the next.

 

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[1] Rashi Bereshis 24:67 quoting Bereshis Rabbah 60:15, mentions that the dough was blessed, and a cloud hovered above. The Zohar mentions only that the candle remained lit, and we will focus just on that.

[2] Chiddushei HaGriz 24:67

[3] Published in the preface to his work Mishneh Sachir

[4] Beitzah 16a

[5] Bereshis Rabbah 9:14 according to Biur Hagra O.C. 271:10

[6] Rema O.C. 271:10

[7] Beginning of Drush 11

[8] Devek Tov Bayis 6 (a pamphlet of the Torah of R. Yonason David Shlita distributed at the wedding of a daughter of R. Chaim Yitzchak Kaplan Shlita.) See also Pachad Yitzchak - Shavuos 36, and Reshimos Lev Chanukah p. 215.

[9]D’varim 17:19, Sanhedrin 21b

[10] Menachos 29b

[11] Sotah 17a, see Rashi ad loc.

[12] The Sfas Emes (to Vayechi, 5634 s.v MeAsher, and 5653 s.v. BiInyan) sees this idea (of connecting the weekdays to the Shabbos) as what is behind the two loaves of Challah on Shabbos, the Lechem Mishna – one corresponds to the weekdays and one to Shabbos. He bases this upon a cryptic passage in the Zohar. He then extends this to explain the relationship of Yissachar and Zevulun, Yissachar being Shabbos and Zevulun the weekdays.

Lions and Moshiach

“And the sons of Dan were Chushim.”

Bereshis 46:23

In the process of building the Mishkan, Moshe was told by Hashem to choose Bezalel of the tribe of Yehuda, and Oholiav of the tribe of Dan. Rashi[1] quotes the Midrash Tanchuma[2], who explains, “Oholiav was from the tribe of Dan, the lowliest of the tribes from among the maidservants children, [as opposed to Leah or Rachel] and the Torah considered him as great as Bezalel, a member of the greatest of the tribes, when it came to building the Mishkan.” 

 

The tribe of Dan was not simply a lowly tribe as a result of birth to a maidservant of Yaakov. Rashi[3] tells us that they all worshiped idols, and thus the clouds of glory spit them out! The tribe of Yehuda was a lion, the source of a lineage of distinguished kings. Yehuda led the nation in their travels, and Dan took up the rear. And yet, the only two tribes compared to lions are Yehuda and Dan. Yaakov said[4] “a lion cub is Yehuda,” and Moshe said[5] “Dan is a lion cub.” R. Avraham Ibn Ezra[6] explains that it was necessary to have a lion taking up the rear just as it was needed to have a lion leading the Jewish nation in order to protect them from both sides. So Dan was a lion, while at the same time being the weakling struggling to keep up.

What is going on with Dan? Is he the weakest or one of the strongest? Is he in the back because he in inferior, or because he is a lion?

 

Yaakov had died, and it was time to bury him. The Gemara[7] tells us that, “When they arrived at the Cave of Machpelah, Esav approached and began disturbing them. He said, ‘we know that there can only be four coupled buried in this cave, and thus far there are three and Leah, the remaining spot next to Leah is for me!’ They replied to Esav, ‘but you sold your rights to Yaakov.” … Esav said ‘show me the contract,’ and they replied ‘but the contract is back in Egypt!’ So they sent Naftali, who was swift like a gazelle, to retrieve the contract. Chushim the son of Dan was there, and he was hard of hearing.[8] He asked the others, ‘what is going on?’ They told him. He said, ‘And until Naftali returns, must our Father sit here in this disgraceful state?’ He took a staff and smashed Esav on the head with it. Esav’s eyes fell out and landed on Yaakov’s leg. Yaakov opened his eyes and smiled.”

 

So Chushim killed Esav. And yet, Tosafos[9] tells us, that the descendants of Esav have a tradition telling that that Yehuda killed Esav, and in fact this is the opinion of the Sifri. He explains that both are true. First, Chushim stepped in and gave Esav a serious blow causing his eyes to come out, but he was still alive. Then Yehuda stepped in and finished him off, killing him.

“The [Messiah] son of David will come only to a generation that is entirely righteous, or one that is entirely wicked,” teaches the Gemara[10].

Esav was either finished off by the handicapped son of the lowest tribe, or the king of the greatest tribe! In fact, R. Moshe Wolfson,[11] writes that in the times just before the Moshiach, those alive will be the reincarnations of the souls of the tribe of Dan. It is interesting that only now in history do we witness the mass phenomenon of people being brought back to Torah out of their lowliness. “A generation that is entirely wicked.” In any other time in history, there was always something in the world that was not available, that provided a lure to the righteous. “Maybe fulfilling that desire will be pleasurable,” people wondered. In our age, every single degenerate action is readily available to any 16 year old! There are so many people who are 21 years old, have already tried every single avierah in the world, and have seen how hollow life can be. Baalei Tshuva are made every day of people who are “entirely wicked,” by people who have tried everything, and have nowhere to go but up. [These people are not “evil” merely engaged in wicked deeds, usually by no fault of their own. It is not our place to judge them.]

Maybe the ultimate redemption, the death of the kingdom of Esav, will follow the death of the actual Esav, beginning with the weakest of the weak, and being concluded by the strongest of the strong.

 

Chushim was the son of Dan, he was one fellow. But the Torah tells us that “the sons of Dan were Chushim.” Why is he called more than one person?[12] The Sheloh[13] quotes the Arizal as pointing out that the letters of Chushim, Ches, Shin, Yod, and Mem, are the very letters “Moshiach!” The Shloh elsewhere[14] talks of the transformation of Dan from a snake, (Yaakov called him a snake[15]) into a lion, in the times just before Moshiachs arrival! In fact, the Arizal writes[16] that while the father of Moshiach will be from Yehuda, his mother will be from Dan! Perhaps these are the two sons referred to in the verse. The sons of Dan were Chushim (and Moshiach.)
 

We are handicapped, and are the lowest of the low in so many ways. There has never been a generation that at this low a level. But when we stand up, we go from snake to lion. When we will fight and struggle, and stand up for the truth, we will bring the redemption. We will turn ourselves from weak snakes, slithereing in the back of the camp in our filth, and idolatry, to great roaring lions. We will get up and declare, “must our Father sit here in this disgraceful state?” The Moshiach can only come to a generation that is entirely righteous or entirely wicked. Esav was only done away with by a combination, first of the weakest of the weak, and then by the greatest of the great. We are all Chushim ben Dan’s – and every Chushim ben Dan has the power of Moshiach in him.

[1] Shemos 35:34

[2] Shemos Ch. 13

[3] To Yechezkel 16:15, see also Targum Yonason to Devarim 25:18

[4] Bereshis 49:9

[5] Devarim 33:22

[6] Commentary to Bamidbar 1:19

[7] Sotah 13a

[8] This is Rashi’s opinion. See however Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer 39 where it is clear the Chushim oculd neither hear not speak at all. See also Radal ad loc.

[9] Gittin 55b s.v. BiYehuda BiHarugei Malchus.

[10] Sanhedrin 98a

[11] Emunas Ittecha Vayigash s.v B’Midrash, and there in Maamar Iggeres Hapurim

[12] See the Targum yonsason that in fact understands that Dan had many children, and Chushim is simply a description of them – meaning that they were strong and incredibly numerous. This seems to be why they were not mentioned by name – because there were so many eventual descendants! Ibn Ezra suggests that there were two children, and only one survived. The same is found in Chizkuni. The general consensus among the commentaries and the opinion of the Talmud is that there was one fellow named Chushim, for there were 70 souls who went down to Egypt (see Exodus 1) and this does not work out should Dan have had more than one child. Also, the list mentions every child by name, and thus the Targum Yonasons interpretation I fascinating. Apparently, the child could not be named for his descendants were so numerous that even their ancestor could not be counted by name. See Bereshis Rabbah 94:9 “In the Torah of R. Meir it said “And the son of Dan was Chushim.” [This does not mean that his text was different – and it’s depth is beyond the scope of this footnote.]

[13] Parshas Pinchas – Torah Ohr.

[14] Vezos Habracha - Derech Chaim Tochacos Mussar.

[15] Bereshis 49:17

[16] Likkutei Amarim 16. There he explains that this is how Yaakov mistook Shimshon for the Moshiach, for his father was from Dan and his mother was from Yehuda, the exact opposite.

Wash your feet

“Take a bit of water and wash your feet”

Bereshis 18:4

 

“Avraham assumed that the angels were Arab’s[i] who worship the dust on their feet, and made certain that no idolatry would enter his home.”

Rashi ad loc

 

The Arabs in the time of Avraham worshiped the dust of their feet. This sound incredibly strange – what on earth could possibly be the reason for this? R. Yaakov Emden[ii], explains this behavior based upon the concept taught in Bereshis, “you are dust and to dust you shall return.” Man is dust. Thus, the Arab’s worshiped the dust of their feet. Explaining this is difficult. What exactly was the nature of this worship? What did they believe and why did they act this way?

 

The Gemara gives us some insight into the modes of worship of other idolaters as well.  Baal Peor is mentioned often in the Torah. What was Baal exactly? The followers would eat and drink laxitives, so that their stools would grow soft. They would then sit before the idol and relieve themselves. This was the way to worship Baal Peor.[iii] The Gemara tells us that Jews only worshiped idols (such as baal) in order to rationalize to themselves Gilui Arayos (illicit sexual behavior) in public.[iv] In other words, the Jews did not deeply believe that the idol was a true god, but worshiping it did something to make their psyches more comfortable with the idea that they could engage in Giuli Arayos. Why on earth should defecating in front of an idol have such an effect on a person?

 

We will answer these two queries with a look at a Midrash.[v]

 

Avraham was working in his fathers idol store, and people would enter. Says the Midrash, “One man entered and asked ‘How much is that idol?’ Avraham replied, ‘3 maneh.’ Then Avraham would ask the man, but how old are you? The man said, ’30.’ Avraham replied, ‘Can your ears hear what is coming from your mouth? This idol was created yesterday, and you wish to worship it?!’ Another man entered and asked the price of a second idol. ‘5 maneh,’ Avraham told him, and then he asked, ‘how old are you?’ ’50,’ the man replied. So again Avraham said, ‘Can your ears hear what is coming from your mouth? This idol was created yesterday, and you wish to worship it?!’”

 

I have several questions on this Midrash. Firstly, why is the price of those idols germane to the Midrash. The Midrash does not record Avraham wishing thme good morning, which one is obligated to do even toward and idolator! This, of course, is because it has nothing to do with the message of the Midrash, and therefore is ommited! But then why is it important that they asked the price of the idol? And why was it that the Midrash tells us of people asking for prices related to their age? The 30 year old 3 maneh, the 50 year old, 5 maneh - surely this is not a coincidence! Lastly, and most importantly, were these people completely stupid? Everyone knows that the idol was created recently when they enter an idol store! In fact, they chose the idol store that they found had the best idols. So when they came in they must have known that the idols were not there from the beginning of creation. There idols clearly represented a form of worship. So what changed? What was Avraham’s argument that was suddenly so convincing?!

 

The answer to this question answers all of our questions. Idolatry was about worshiping oneself in sense. The fellow who went to the bathroom on his idol made a loud statement. I can do anything I want. Even in front of my idol. He was also showing his lowliness. You see, if someone is entirely insignificant, then nothing that he does really makes a difference. I am nothing and I can do whatever I wish is essentially the same statement. Those who worshiped idols essentially worshiped themselves. They did what they wanted to when they wanted to do it. The Jews did not worship idol out of an honest seeking for truth. They were drawn after that philosophy by their drive to rationalize any behavior. In our times, we see that those who can explain that man is no more than an evolved paramecium, can then rationalize any sort of aberrant behavior, for after all, who cares what man does in the privacy of his own home  any more than a rat does in the privacy of his own sewer? Avraham’s customers would buy idol that related to their stage and state in life. If they were 50, the price of their idol would have to match that, for they were “celebrating man,” in today’s parlance. Avraham replied to them, “but your whims are not eternal. You were born only 50 years ago, and your whims were born yesterday!” Avraham inspired his customers to seek the eternal truths, and not to worship the dust of their feet.

 

We live in a society where we are taught that the highest of values is the pursuit of happiness. We are taught to dream of what we can all want, and then build towards it. How often are we told that what we want does not really matter? How often do we hear that we are not here to worship ourselves - to give in to our every whim? It is the Jew who brought this idea in to the world. We are here to answer a calling more deep and noble than the fleeting thought. The Jew tells the world that life is not only about what we may or may not want, but about choosing right over wrong, good over evil, and truth over falsehood.

 

Man is made of dust, but he also has a soul. His body will go back to dust as his soul ascends to its maker. Arab’s in the time of Avraham worshiped the lowest part of man, for they were essentially worshiping themselves. Man is dust, so they worshiped dust. Avraham taught us all that man is also divine, and thus he ought to worship Hashem.

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[i] Gilyonei Mikra (R. Aaron Sonnenschein) wonders how we can say that Avraham assumed that they were Arabs, when the Torah traces the lineage of the Arab people to Yishamel explicitly (Bereshis 23:16)? He quotes C.D. Chavel’s footnote in his edition of Ramban where he brings R. Ovadiah Sforno who explains that they were “like the Arabs that we see today,” but not that they were themselves Arabs.

[ii] Hagahos to Bava Metzia 86b. Other reason are offered. R. Yeshaya Halevi Hurwitz (Sheloh) explains that since they worshiped the sun, they also worshiped the scorched sand, and Maharal (in Gur Aryeh) says that it was because they were tent-dwelling travelers who did not believe in settling down.

[iii] Sanhedrin 64b

[iv] Ibid 63b

[v] Seder Eliyahu Rabbah Ch. 6. This is from a manuscript quoted by R. M. M. Kasher in his Torah Shleima to Lech Lecha 15:7 [88].

Kaddish, Hollywood, and the Spanish Inquisition

The poor Yarmulke was clearly out of its element on the young man’s long curly hair. Its precarious perch, and the several times that it nearly fell off, were as clear an indication of this fellows comfort in the Orthodox shul as were his several prominent piercings. I sat behind him, wondering what brought this sandal-clad Jew with only one of his shirt buttons closed into our shul. When he rose to say Kaddish, however, the mystery was solved. I spoke to him after services to welcome him, and discovered that his mother had died as a young woman, and that he made an appearance every year to honor her memory in the way that meant the most to him.

 

After a parent dies, a son is obligated to say Kaddish for one year. Kaddish is prayer declaring the greatness of God, and praying that the world recognize it. There are so many who have been brought back to Torah observance through Kaddish – people whose lives have taken paths not boasting a Shul, have had to make their  respective ways to one after feeling loss.

 

It is amazing what trial and loss can awaken in man. Contented and secure, so many of us often do not realize the necessity to reach out to G-d, and connect with Him in any meaningful way. But those very same people who find happiness outside the shul somehow cannot find a method of dealing with loss there. The mysteries of life are awakened when one is having a hard time. Those who are happy generally continue doing what makes them happy, while those beset with misery look for change. They explore, and seek change.

 

It is a tragedy of the Jewish experience throughout history that we have not managed well in prosperity. We managed to remain faithful to our Divine mission through pogrom and blood libel, but when it came to prosperity, we have somehow fallen short. Rabbi Yosef Yaavetz, one of the great Torah giants who witnessed the expulsion of the Jews from Spain observed in his work Or Hachaim (p. 8) that those who retained their rock-like faith in the face of the persecution of the Inquisition, willing to lose everything including their lives for the noble mission of the Jewish people, were the simple, uncultured, unlearned Jews, who did not occupy places in society. Those who had begun assimilating, even while following the Torah, were the first to abandon the Torah when things got tough, for they were already to far gone. It was not just the Inquisition that was pulling them to abandon their role in G-d’s plan – now their positions, estates, and lifestyles beckoned to them. Those who didn’t have it that good, had nothing pulling them from God other than murderous devils. And they retained their faith.

 

It is such a shame that we often maintain our relationship with G-d and truth out of lack. It is out of pain, and a sense of emptiness that we seek G-d initially. Must we always lack? Once we are fulfilled – can we then engage in the relationship with the same gusto? The Hollywood model of relationship – where with few exceptions, no relationship lasts beyond a year is a good example of this dynamic. People who are empty and looking for someone to win over, thus giving them the accomplishment of “having dated” so and so, will quickly tire of the actual relationship – for a lot of what they were looking for, and finding fulfillment in was the challenge of the dating game. They don’t know what to do with one another once they are committed. If neither one is playing hard to get, then they begin looking elsewhere.  While we must beware the dangers of oversimplifying the nature of relationships, we still must know, that the real relationship only begins truly when it is no longer simply about getting the relationship, but about building it.

 

King David called to God often. In good times, “As I raise the Cup of Salvation, I call to G-d” (Psalms 116:13), and in hard times, “I have found trouble and pain. So I call to G-d.” (ibid 116:3-4) It has been said by great Rabbis that we must not only sing to G-d in good times, but also in the harder ones as David did. But this young man coming to say Kaddish in his time of pain taught me that it can be much harder to call to G-d in good times than in bad. To teach ourselves to recognize that it is G-d who is running the show when we are successful and happy, and to pray with the same fire then, is the beginning of relating to G-d from within our relationship with him. Then, should the time come, G-d forbid, that one will have to recite the Kaddish, he will not be calling to G-d to search for Him, but rather to pick up the conversation where they left off during the good times. After all, it is all the same conversation.

Mystics, Rationalists, and Fringes on Clothes

(the following is based upon chapter 4 of the sefer “Hamitzvos HaSehkulos” of the saintly Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe z”l)

Mystics dress in white gowns and burn incense. We rationalists wear business suits, and designer shirts and ties. But why is it that some of us can be so confused by, and indifferent to, talk about demons, angels, and heaven?

There are seven commandments that are considered by our sages to be as important as the entirety of the Torah. One of them is “tzitzis.” Tzitzis are the fringes that a male Jew is obligated to affix to his four cornered garment, should he choose to wear one. Although most clothing is no longer made with four corners, Torah observant Jews wear special undershirts of four corners colloquially called “tzitzis,” so as not to miss the grand opportunity to perform this mitzvah.

But what is behind this mitzvah? Why is it worthy of being dubbed as valuable as the entire Torah?

Tosafos (Menachos 43b) tells us that these strings are similar to a brand that a slave wears informing the world that he is enslaved to his master alone. The Midrash (Numbers Rab. 17:6) however paints a very different sounding picture of this mitzvah. “A parable – A man has fallen overboard at sea, and is in grave danger! The captain extends him a line and tells him, grab a hold, don’t let go, for letting go of this line is forfeiting your very life. “Grab onto my commandments,” says G-d; “letting go of them is forfeiting your very life.”

A glorious picture! Our tzitzis are our very lives, connecting us to G-d, our captain who is waiting for us to join him on the deck, and be saved from the turbulence of life’s raging tempests. He beseeches mankind to simply embrace Torah values and he will then pull his end of the cord. Man wearing his tzitzis is showing that he is just a tug away from an audience with the divine presence. How very different from the Tosafos’ image of the torah adherent as a branded slave is this Midrash!

Man is a composite of spirit and earth. He is caught in a tug of war between his earthly impulses and his spiritual aspirations. There are two parts to his job on this earth. He must firstly learn not to be beholden to the calls of his animalistic physical side, and he must also learn to attach to the spiritual. Man must brand himself and show that he is not enslaved to the physical but rather answers to a much higher calling. He must then also begin to grasp at and hold onto the line extended to him from the Master of the universe who is beckoning to him, and inviting him to take his rightful place on the deck of the ship.

There are two genres in classic Jewish scholarship in explaining the meaning of mitzvot. Sefer Hachinuch explains the more basic and rational reasons for the commandments. This explains the branding of the person, how the mitzvot ensure that he simply not drown in the ocean of the physical world. Others, such as Ridvaz, (in his Metzudas Dovid) explain the more mystical significances of the commandments. This provides explanations as to how the mitzvot then attach man to his Maker and bring him up onto the deck of the ship.

Rationalism and mysticism are both accurate and true. The rationalist explains how the mitzvot affect the physical world, and why they elevate a man above it. The mystic explains how it is that the mitzvot bring one into a spiritual world, and teach us “spiritual physics,” explaining how those mitzvot bring us close to G-d. Every Jew is both a mystic and a rationalist. He lives an existence of the tangible intermingled with the spirit. Those who wear tzitzis have access, on their very person to a message that encompasses the entire mission of man in this world. There is mysticism in the rational, and rationalism in the mystical. This is the secret of tzitzis.