A thought on פרשת מסעי

"...arei miklat tihiyena lachem v'nos shama...""...there will be cities of refuge for you and the killer shall escape there..." (35:11)

We understand the concept of the Cities of Refuge. Those who committed the tragic act of accidental killing were commanded to flee to these self-contained urban havens, living out their years in exile amidst their hosts, the Levites.

The Recanati sheds light on some of the deepest intricacies of this mitzva. The role of the Levi, in our mystical tradition, is to represent the midda of din. Whereas a Kohen embodies the midda of chesed, kindness, it is the task of the Levi to be precise, exacting and focused on order and control. This was their role in the upkeep and supervision of the mikdash, and this was because the Levites served to reflect middas ha'din from Above in their dedicated actions below.

We might assume that the person whose accident led to another's death needs to be in the city of the Levi because he deserves din for his carelessness. That would make sense in a mathematic manner. The Recanati disagrees: notice that the Levi is not dealing in a harsh or punitive manner with the killer. He is sheltering him, caring for him and protecting him from the hostile mob who may be out to avenge the death that he brought about! How does the justice-bound Levi take on this benevolent and caring role, so different than his traditional din format?The Recanati explains that whereas the killing was an accident, it was no "accident" that these two people had the tragic encounter. Clearly, there was a middas ha'din behind the decree that one person should die. Meanwhile, for whatever reason, the other person somehow had to take on the role of facilitating that death. Whatever history or past problem that person had as a demerit, it somehow had a role in his being given the unfortunate and tragic role which was needed to implement the "accident" of the other's death.

In that sense, while not an innocent "pawn" in the process (since there was a reason that he needed to be part of the tragedy), he did not plan to hurt anyone. He did not chose to kill anyone. The Divine plan drew him in to the picture, and the rest was horrible history.

Having been taken into a role that he never would have chosen, the Torah dictates that his subordinate role in bringing about din for someone who deserved din now warranted that he be given some compassion. Those whose mission is to represent din, the Levites, were now assigned the task of welcoming in a cohort, someone who also enacted din. Rather than treat him with harsh and punitive displays of din, it is the task of the Levi to harbor and shelter this person. He too, in a profoundly painful way, has acted in the service of HaShem.
For that role, however tragic and traumatizing, he is shown a level of chesed.

Wishing you a good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on פרשת מטות

"...k'chol ha'yotzai mi'piv ya'aseh...""...all that comes from his mouth shall he do..." (30:3)

The Torah perspective on nedarim - vows - is that a person is responsible for his speech and his declarations. In an earlier parsha email (Chukas), we began to look at the deeper and loftier aspects of how our verbal commitments here can resonate with the decisive decrees Above. A neder is an expression of exactitude and din. It is a means of declaring that we are committed and bound by the structure of din. This is a way of showing our allegiance to Torah and its rules, and a way of demonstrating fealty to the word of HaShem.

The Recanati, whose writings illuminated us on those aspects of nedarim, takes us further and deeper this week. Our parsha discusses the imperative of adhering to our vows, as we see from the verse. Our halachic tradition, though, introduces a manner in which vows can be revoked or rescinded. There is a formula which a person can follow when he or she needs to retract from having made a neder. One cannot release oneself from this commitment but one can approach qualified others who can guide the process of nullifying that which was declared.

That process, however, runs much deeper than this. Chazal (Chagiga 10a) make an unusual statement: "Heter nedarim porchin b'avir" - the rules for releasing one from a vow float in the air. Generally, we understand that statement as a reference to the fact that there is no explicit rule in the Torah for releasing one from a vow. Rather, the rule and its formulae come from our mesorah.

The Recanati says that this statement has a more profound message. We know that a vow resonates with the powerful din or judgements which are decreed above. There are times when a decree of Divine din will have consequences which we experience as harsh and difficult. Just think of how fervently we pray in Avinua Malkeinu that HaShem remove His awesome decrees!

When a Jewish person has taken a vow and must, because of a pressing condition or other justified grounds, seek a release from his commitment, he turns to a great person or to a group of wise men. When they see fit to release him from the vow - think about Kol Nidrei - this compassionate move "floats in the air." It ascends above and is accepted Above. The
impact of that means of tempering din with compassion makes an impression in Heaven. It contributes to the Divine process which may resonate with a revocation of a gezar din.

As the Recanati has taught us over and again this year, there is a parallel between our actions below and the events which occur above. Heter nedarim is an example of this. Just as there is a means of releasing a person from din, there is a means of releasing people from a gezar din. When we follow the halacha and utilize it to guide people past difficult binds, HaShem may also determine to show us a decree of compassion.

The Recanati adds that this in hinted at by another cryptic statement of Chazal (Brachos 32a): "Hu aino mochel aval acherim mochlin lo" - he himself cannot forgive but others can forgive him. Now, at first glance, this refers to the reality that one who vows cannot himself pronounce his own release. Only a qualified authority or tribunal can do that for him. At a more profound level, the "he" of the phrase "he cannot forgive" refers to HaShem! Chazal allude here to the issue of rescinding a gezar din in Shomayim! For release of such a decree, He cannot forgive but others can do so. The act of others on this earth who seek to ease the predicaments of a Jew can lead to a reciprocal easing of loftier forces.

Wishing you a good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on פרשת פנחס

"...korbani lachmi l'ishai...l'hakriv li...""...bring close My fire-offering sacrifice to me..." (28:2)

With the above verse, HaShem commanded us to bring a daily sacrifice, the korban tamid. It is referred to as a fire-offering and the Torah stressed that it must be "brought close."

The Recanati ponders the term "fire-offering." This sacrifice is referred to by three terms here, korban (offering), lechem (meal) and aish (fire). If you look at the words closely, the sacrifice is actually called by the first two (korbani lachmi) and then the verse says it is "l'ishai", for My fire. What is lurking beneath these words?

Furthermore, notes the Recanati, the commandment is not to bring near (l'karev), but "to make close" (l'hakriv). What do those words hint at?

The Recanati explains that l'hakriv li - to make close for Me - is a reference to the gravity of this commandment. By bringing a daily offering to HaShem, every day of the year regardless of circumstance, the Jewish nation accomplished a profound and sacred goal: this constant and full-bodied devotion was a means of binding all of the names of HaShem by means of proclaiming Him the One and Supreme Lord. The homage, the devotion and the continuity of serving Him this way enunciated to the world that He is Above all. This is what the prophet Zecharia (14:9) declares, "HaShem echad u'Shmo Echad" - HaShem and His Name are One. We assert this three times daily in the Aleinu prayer. This is the meaning of l'hakriv - to make close, as opposed to l'karev, to bring close. We cannot get "close" to the Above in real terms, but we can, down on this planet, create a sense that His name and attributes are compacted into One, and that we acknowledge His Oneness despite His infinite greatness.

Bringing close that offering, and making the Name close (One) is for "My fire." "Fire" in this verse refers to people. When we devote our bodies and minds and souls to such complete focused service of the One G-d, we are on fire. We are aflame with the sacred glow which selfless avoda ignites. At that moment, we are "His flames on earth." Think of all those times we refer, especially during the yamim nora'im, to angelic forces as "flashing beacons of light", "flaming presences" and so on. That is our metaphor for a power and energy which is beyond this world. Meanwhile, down here, we also capture some of that inflammation. When we serve HaShem and bring forth daily offerings, we draw close and He kavayachol
considers us His fiery servants down below.

Just having returned from two weeks of Torah in Jerusalem, I am a bit on fire too. Wishing you a good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on פרשת בלק

"...ta'mos nafshi mos y'sharim...""...let me die the death of the upright..." (23:10)

In one of Bila'am's visions, he uttered his awe of the Jewish nation, even wishing that his own death would be "the death of the just" or the "upright ones."

We are described here as "y'sharim." What does it mean to be "upright" and "just."?

The Recanati offers two thoughts. It may be that the word refers to the Jews, since we are also called, as a nation, "Yeshurun." That name only appears three times, later on in the Torah. The Recanati suggests that Bila'am intended the same meaning, referring to the Jewish people as a nation of straight, honest upright people. This is what he longed to be, at least during that moment of spiritual vision.

The Recanati offers a second possibility. He notes that Dovid HaMelech declares in Tehillim (33:4) "Ki yashar d'var HaShem v'kol ma'aseihu be'emuna" - for the word of HaShem is upright and all of His actions are reliable. What does this mean?The D'var HaShem - the word of HaShem - "appeared" to our prophets. However, the only one to whom the word of HaShem was actually spoken was Moshe. We find the expression "va'yidaber" to Moshe whereas to the other prophets we generally read about how "d'var HaShem" appeared or came to them. It as if Moshe heard the word of HaShem "straight", whereas the prophets "picked up" the messages through a more covert internal process.

The Jewish nation trusts in HaShem. We put our faith in Him. We made that choice, and are in turn chosen by Him to receive His word, and carry it out. This includes our accepting and receiving the Torah, the D'var HaShem given through Moshe. In that sense, we chose and were chosen to be the receptors and containers for the Torah. Because of this wonderful consequence of our faith, we also are chosen to put into action the D'var HaShem. This is what the Psalm's words declare: "the Word of HaShem is given directly to Moshe and to us, and we who have faith in Him enact its words." (Remember this interpretation every day when you sing those words during morning pesukei d'zimra.)

This is what Bila'am was feeling and seeing in that vision. The Jewish nation is Yeshurun and we are Yisharim - we get the message straight from HaShem and put it into action. We are called the "straight" (or upright, or just) ones according to this second interpretation because we have received "the straight talk" and put it "straight" into action. This is what Bila'am envied about us at that moment.

The question we must ask is, do we appreciate this ourselves? Do we recognize that having the role as holders of the straight truth and being chosen to fulfill those truths is an enviable role?

Ya'shar ko'ach. Greetings from Jerusalem where D'var HaShem continues to emanate, ki mi'Tzion tetzei Torah u'D'var HaShem mi"Yerushalayim.

Good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on פרשת חקת

"...v'yidar Yisroel neder...""...and the nation of Israel made a vow..." (21:2)

As we began the approach which would lead to our ascent to the Holy Land, our nation had a taste of warfare. A Cannanite army attacked and took Jews captive. Our response was, as our verse relates, to take a vow to HaShem: if our enemy would be delivered into our hand, we pledged to place a cherem or taboo on the cities we would capture.

What motivated this particular move on our part? What role did this vow play at that tense moment?The Recanati explains: when we go out to war at the commandment of HaShem, HaShem is the "Force" who is leading the course of battle. To all who believe in our mesora, this is obvious. The more subtle angle, writes the Recanati, is that war is the domain of that which we understand as middas din. We are also subject to the judgment, including harsh seeming judgment, which emanates when middas din is rampant. In addition, we must aim to parallel or emulate the manner in which HaShem is dealing with us, or dealing with the world at large.

The declaration of a vow is a means of creating a "din." A vow means using words which bind us with an obligation to fulfill those words and which invokes a prohibition against violating or neglecting the structure of those words. A vow demonstrates our ability to make a binding rule, and rules are part of midas din. When a war is being undertaken and we are relying on HaShem's midda of din, it is important for us to honor that attribute and to follow it by asserting our own allegiance to adhering to din. This was the role of the vow at that point in our history. This was our effort to emulate in this world the process emanating from the higher realm at that time. Divine din was echoed by mortal din. Imitatio din.

The first point above, that we are also subject to being judged during times when middas din is rampant, sheds light on a second aspect of that particular vow. This battle was only a preliminary to the years of conquest and wars which would later evolve in our taking possession of the Holy Land. We knew in advance that HaShem would determine the course of those wars, and we knew that middas din would shape that process. This meant that the entry into the Land would result in utter destruction. We knew that Jericho, the border city, would not only be the first to fall, but that it would be fully vanquished and forever forbidden.

The image of such destruction was terrifying and we needed a means of demonstrating that we were deserving of such an event and were not in any way negligent and deserving of harsh consequences ourselves. In the same way in which we knew that Jericho would fall and be a place of taboo cherem, we needed to declare our fealty and submission to that reality, and merge with such an awesome reality. We did this by vowing that we too, upon victory and rescue of our hostages, would act with utter din, placing this foe's stronghold under cherem.

Identifying with the might and power of middas din was a catalyst for our being shown favor and compassion at that time, sparing us from the risk of din directed against us.

The Recanati adds that even though we knew that Jericho would fall, Yehoshua still sent in two spies for reconnaissance. Why did this seem necessary if we had already learned that middas din would lead the way? The sending of spies was to remove the spiritual stain left by the meraglim years before (last week's parsha.) This was one more preventative measure to assure that when din was rampant that there would be no risk of that power being turned against us.

Good Shabbos. This is being sent out early, as is the parsha email for next week, since I will be in Jerusalem shortly for two weeks of nourishing the soul. D Fox