A Thought on Parshas Achrei Mos

"...va'taki ha'aretz es yoshveha...v'lo taki ha'aretz es'chem..."

"...and the land vomited them out...and the land will not vomit you out ..." (18:25,28)

The nations who had once inhabited eretz Kana'an defiled the land. Their conduct, their standards, their ways of life were deviant and decadent, and the land would not contain them. They died off, they were expelled and most of them vanished without leaving an enduring trace.

In contrast, the Jews were given the land in order to grow and to ascend in sanctity of conduct. The Torah admonishes us in the first verse about the intolerable life orientation that led the land to "vomit away its earlier inhabitants", and then warns us not to follow those paths of impurity. The second verse seems to say that "the land will not vomit you out when you contaminate it the way it vomited away those other nations." The wording seems hard to follow, which has led various commentaries (and English translations) to insert the implied unwritten word "lest", or "you shall not cause the land to vomit you" and other modifications of the concrete reading of the verse. As it is written, however, the verse says,

"v'lo taki ha'aretz eschem b'tam'achem osa ka'asher koh es ha'goy asher lifneichem"

which should translate literally as "and the land will not vomit you when you defile it the way it vomited the nation which preceded you." The commentaries suggest, therefore, that it means "(that you should not cause) the land to vomit you (by) defiling it..." etc.

The Ralbag, however, offers us a different understanding, truer to the written format of the verse. He cites his father, Rav Gershom zt'l who taught that one should not assume that if Jews misbehave in Israel that their fate will resemble that of the earlier nations. The Torah is emphasizing that our misconduct will not result in our being expelled "in the same manner in which those nations were expelled." No! The verse says "and you will not be vomited out the way they were." Those nations were forced to leave, they left, they relocated or they eventually died out.

The lot of the Jew is different. We live by a higher standard. We are meant to ascend and to elevate our existence, especially when living in the land which we are to make holy through more and more mitzvos which can be fulfilled within its sanctified confines. We live by a spiritual standard. When we fail to uphold our mission, we have failed as a nation. The land will expel us, but not in the "geographical relocation" experienced by those others who left the land. Rather, our lot will be one of spiritual strife as well as physical exile. We will yearn to return yet that goal will elude us as long as we fall beneath our spiritual charge.

Furthermore, our fate is different than those earlier nations in another way. Those peoples inhabited the land and were later ejected collectively. Whereas the Jews are a nation and are accountable one to the other in that same collective sense, we are also accountable at the individual level. Each one of us is responsible for his or her spiritual purity. Each one of us is accountable at an individual subjective level for his or her failings. When one is living in the Holy Land and defiles its values, this is an assault on his or her very soul, and that person will face dire spiritual consequence as an individual. One's spiritual fate is in their own hands, and the rest of the nation, one's family and relatives may merit the blessing of living on, whereas he who defiles the land will lose out.

"You will not be vomited out, when you defile the land, the way the nations were!"

The Jewish people faces higher potential, and straying from that means more stark and tragic results. Each individual, too, is expected to reach spiritual heights, and is judged with a stricter measure. We face greater expectations, and we have so much more to lose.But we have so much more to gain....

Wishing you a good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on Parshios Tazria, Metzora

"...toras ha'metzora..."
"...the laws affecting the metzora..." (14:2)

 

Many are the forms and manifestations of impurity, tum'a. There is a cleansing remedy for each of them. When it comes to tzaras, however, the Torah devotes the majority of our two joinedparshios in discussing the ordeal to which the afflicted metzora is subjected and the complex formula for his recovery. He is quarantined, isolated socially, shaven, scrubbed, cleansed, immersed, and then brings some offerings. The offerings begin with two birds, one of which is killed and buried and the other which is released, which means they are not really sacrificial offerings at all. Then comes a guilt offering, a sin offering and a burnt offering. What makes this form of tum'a so demanding, so different, in the way the afflicted one is handled, and later rehabilitated into the community?

 

The Ralbag explains that a key distinction between this form of impurity and the many other forms rests in the philosophical distinction between substance and function. Our substance is physical matter, what we "are." Our bodies, for example, comprise our substantive nature. Our function, in contrast, is our behavior, our actions. It is who we are as manifest in how we are, what we "do."

 

Most of the forms of impurity which people contract are reflected by a change in body function. An emission, a secretion, a contraction or a contagion, all are manifest in either or both an alteration in body function or as a consequence of a specific behavior.

 

Tzaras is different. The affliction is not so much a change of body function but rather a decay or eroding of the body itself. It is a change at the structural level. It is manifest at the substantive level. It signifies that the person has alienated himself or herself from the community of human beings. He has isolated himself in a way which is reflected in the core and substance of his existence. His iniquity runs deeper than a misplaced act or a function which was misdirected. He has, in essence, allowed his humanity to die through scorning or mistreating others. The tum'a  hits him at a level which he shares with the dead, namely at the level of physical decay. The dead no longer function, but rot. This person is not impaired through affliction of a body function but through the rot and decay of the flesh itself.

 

The formula for recovery, the Ralbag explains, is also unique. One bird is killed and buried, the other sent away. This is not a matter of sacrifice, for there is no "offering" taking place. Nobody benefits from these birds. They are not eaten, they are not sacrificed (and in that sense, HaShem does not "accept"  either bird as an offering.) This lack of pleasure and benefit further identifies the errors of the metzora, who has acted in ways which please neither the Divine nor the fellow mortal.

 

Even with the closing of his cleansing ritual, when we would expect him to bring forth an olah, a burnt offering, the Torah instructs him to first demonstrate his regret, through an asham, and his contrition, through a chatas. His purification is not an automatic process which might require the mere setting of the sun or immersion. Rather, his purification hinges on his asserting his regret over having rejected the camaraderie of the living, and his apology for having fallen short of Divine expectations. Only then can he offer his olah, and prepare to enter again into the covenant of conformity and devotion to the Divine.

 

Positively wishing you a good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on פרשת שמיני

"...aish zara asher lo tziva osam...""...a unauthorized fire about which they had not been commanded..." (10:1)

Many commentaries have illuminated the sin of the strange fire, which two sons of Aharon offered to HaShem, and for which their lives were taken in a dramatic incident. Some of those interpretations examine the characters of that pair of kohanim, others look into their motives and others write about the impropriety of their act.

The Ralbag takes a more philosophical approach. Many of us assume, in our speculations about spirituality, that the depth of our understanding the ways of HaShem will promote greater heights in our service of Him. The more informed we are of the scope and nature of a mitzva, for example, the fuller our sense of avoda is as we perform that sacred act. That is probably true.

What the sons of Aharon contemplated went further, yet ironically, fell short of the above postulate. In an attempt to increase their sense of ascendancy, they brought a voluntary offering, unauthorized. They accompanied their ritual with great and profound intentionality and spiritual focus. They conjectured that they had divined the deep meaning of the avoda of bringing forth offerings to HaShem, for they had a handle on some of the actual theology, as well as the structure and format of bringing such offerings. This made sense, too, for in general, the better informed we are about the nature and structure of a ritual in advance of performing it, the fuller and richer is our sense of completeness and fulfillment upon doing that act.

Their error, however, was that in HaShem's system, the sequence is really the reverse. There are levels of understanding, kavan'os, within a mitzva, which only emerge after one has performed the act. Understanding may initiate in our learning about a mitzva prior to performing it but there is a further level of understanding which can only occur to a person once they have completed that act.

Had these two kohanim first followed instructions, had they performed the mitzva exactly as it had been commanded, they would have discovered a fuller and more authentic grasp of its profundity and sanctity (and of course, a fringe benefit would have been that they would have realized that all of the mind's speculation cannot attain the full scope of knowing the will and designs of HaShem, and they would have never thought of trying to intuit His ways and innovate any unauthorized "religious" act.)

Knowledge which precedes action can facilitate a fuller appreciation of the act, for our mind will then be very present during our behavioral experience. This holds true, however, only when the act is done according to the Divine plan. When we innovate, we can hardly pretend that our actions are being accompanied by spiritual focus, for our guide to attaining a spiritual focus, kavanna, begins with complying with the mitvzos which have been given us. We discover the cognitive and spiritual avoda only upon performing within the framework of the given mitzvos. Anything more is less, and is strange fire.

Wishing you a good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on Parshas Tzav

"...v'hiktir al'eha chelvei ha'she'lamim..."

"...and offer there the choicest parts of the peace offerings..." (6:5)

One of the personal offerings brought in the Bais HaMikdash was the she'lamim, which is generally translated as "peace offering" from the word shalom, or "offering of wholeness" from the word shaleim. This offering was brought for a number of reasons, although not as an atonement, nor even as a thanksgiving gesture. In fact, the she'lamim was brought quite often during times of joy and celebration. It is understandable that people have construed this offering, then, as a means of showing HaShem appreciation for our joy.

The Ralbag sees here a different theme: he reminds us that Dovid HaMelech instructs us "v'gilu b'ra'oda" - rejoice when trembling (Tehillim 2:11). The thought there is that many of us leave HaShem out of our happy times. There are times when our joy literally "knows no bounds", which is another way of saying that we lose control, and obscure our bounded sense of HaShem's Presence, as well as His role, in our being able to celebrate. We need to maintain awareness of Him at all times, including during our happiest moments. When we exult with joy, we must also exalt with praise of HaShem. This is the meaning of that verse in the psalm.

As for our verse in the parsha, the Ralbag suggests that the theme behind the bringing of a "peace offering" during happy occasions is to demonstrate that very lesson. We are showing ourselves that almost in spite of our feeling swept up in personal, familial or communal simcha, we must also perform a gesture which signifies our awareness of the Divine. This is the meaning of bringing a she'lamim during times of happiness. We find a means of ritualizing our happiness into a form of sacred avoda.

As for the other part of the verse, "offering the choicest parts", the Ralbag has another lesson for us. The theme behind offering the very choice parts of the sacrifice in our serving HaShem is also for our own sake. We signify for ourselves that we realize that each of us needs to offer up to Him our own choicest parts. Our intellects, our talents, our gifts, our personal sensitivities are our best assets. They are given us in order that we find ways to convert their potential into ways of serving HaShem. It is not enough that we go through our behavioral motions with dulled consciousness and rote apathy when it comes time to engage in our spiritual avoda. We must employ our own choicest parts so that our spiritual life is empowered by the best of ourselves. We make a personal sacrifice to offer up our own subjective formula of chelvei ha'she'lamim.

Wishing you a good Shabbos and a joyous Pesach. D Fox

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Back to last week's parsha, a number of people have submitted their perspective-answers on the question I posed. When a few more have come in, I will put them into a digest and send them out iy'H.