Wednesday, May 25, 2011

A Thought On Parshas BaMidbar

A Thought On Parshas BaMidbar

"...l'Naftali Achira ben Einan..."
"...the prince of the tribe of Naftali was Achira son of Einan..." (1:15)

This week, I am going to veer somewhat from my typical style of introducing a thought from my selected commentary which seems striking and profound, and instead I am going to share a thought which is personally exciting to me.

For many years, in examining Biblical names, I have marveled at the imagery and history behind some of the name choices given various persons in Chumash and TaNaCh. Some of the names appear to reflect an incident in the life of the person who chose that name, such as Moshe, or seem to symbolize something which was important to the person who chose that name, such as Mipiboshes, Doeg, or Naval. Some names were Divinely ordained such as Avraham, Yisroel and Yishmael. In our own times, many have retained a custom of naming a child after a departed relative whose memory remains dear.

For many years, I have struggled with the name Achira. Let's face it: the name is composed of two Hebrew words, achi and ra. Achi means "my brother." Ra means "is bad." Achira means "my brother is bad." Now, who in the world would name their son "my brother is bad"? Even if it were true, who would proclaim such a thing? Moreover, our tradition is to name people after positive events and good people. Who would affix a child with a name which is neither positive nor complimentary? Consider how Adolph, once a fairly common name among European Jews, is not in use among us since World War II. I have met secular Jews in Israel with names like Nimrod but have yet to meet an Israeli named Esav or Arafat. What's with this name Achira ben Einan? I have combed through midrashim and commentaries for decades but have found no one questioning this, much less giving an answer which is satisfying.

Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel asks the question! He writes, "So is there any person you know who would call his son Achira?" Listen to his answer:

Achi here comes from the word achu (see Bereishis 41:2) which means a piece of land which is lush and fertile. This use of the word can also be found in Hoshea 13:15 "ki hu bein achim yafri" - for he flourishes in the wetlands. Ra comes from the word raa'va which means favor, as we see in the Targum - the Aramaic parallel to Hebrew. Our word ratzon
which means want, favor, or will (in the noun form) is raa'va in Aramaic, such as we say in the Zoharic passage known as Brich Shmei which closes with yehae raa'va which is the same as "yehi ratzon" - May it be Your will.

Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel says that Achira was given this name because his tribal province in Israel was going to be one of fruitful fields because of the ratzon HaShem nourishing that land. The members of the tribe of Naftali had firm belief and trust in the tradition that they would be given territory rich with produce. Hence, the man who became its prince already captured that promise by bearing the name Achira - "my wetlands are granted ratzon."

I note, in supporting Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel's interpretation, that at the end of the Torah, when Moshe blesses each tribe, he says about Naftali: sav'aa ratzon u'malae birchas HaShem - his land is satiated with favor and full of HaShem's bounty (Devarim 33:23). The Targum here is: sva raa'va. This fits exactly with this interpretation of the name Achira!

I too am now satiated. At long last a pshat! Good Shabbos. D Fox

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

A Thought On Parshas BeChukosai

A Thought On Parshas BeChukosai

"...im be'chukosai tei'leichu...v'im lo tishma'u Li..."
"...if you walk with My principles..but if you do not listen to Me..." (26:3,14)

The Torah begins with HaShem's forecasting the wondrous events which follow us when we obey the commandments and learn His ways. Later on, we are warned of the ills which await us r'l if we fail to adhere to the Torah path.

Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel notes that the first letter in the opening word starts with an alef. The final letter of the final word in this happy forecast is a tof. This alef-to-tof section hints to us through the way of remez that those who fulfill the Torah from "a to z" can expect to meet up with the brachos - the manifold blessings which HaShem reserves for the faithful.

Moving ahead to the next parsha segment, which begins with the foreboding clause quoted above, "but if you do not listen to Me", Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel wonders why the word Li (to Me) is written. We understand from the onset of the parsha that the entire discussion is about whether or not the Jewish nation will follow the Torah. We start off with the instruction to walk with HaShem's principles, which the sages have explained is a way of directing us to labor in understanding and applying the Torah. When the focus shifts to the negative, and we are warned against not studying and practicing Torah, it is obvious that we are still referring to HaShem's principles. The only Torah is Toras HaShem! Why is it necessary to write "if you do not listen to Me" ? The verse could have said simply "and if you do not listen" and we would know full well to what it refers and to Whose ways it applies!

Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel explains: the Torah does not intend to indict the ignorant nor the godless. Those types of people are not admonished about the tragic outcome of neglecting the ways of the Torah. Our verse is referring specifically to "one who recognizes his Creator yet intends to rebel against Him." We find that the residents of ancient Sdom (some of their descendants have recently begun proliferating in many parts of the world, I believe) were depicted as "very bad and sinful to HaShem" (Bereishis 13:13). The verse links their having been evil with their relationship to HaShem. They lived back in the times when the world was very aware that there was a Creator and Divine Presence. When the people of Sdom sinned, it was deliberate and done in a spirit of rebellion against Heaven. So too, says Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel, the word in our verse teaches the identical lesson. The dismal consequences for those who do not adhere to the Torah way are for those "who do not listen to Me." It is the person who knows better who must face the consequence of his or her chait.

The lesson for us of the tochacha - the stern warning of our parsha - is that immersing ourselves in the study of Torah and walking by its ways affords us a knowledge of HaShem as well as a knowledge of His principles. The more we study, the more we really develop a closeness to Him, and this is called "recognizing HaShem." When a person with that level of knowledge strays and goes away from Torah r'l, his or her misdeed is very grave. It is not only regarded as a rejection and desecration of Torah but is described as a rebellion against HaShem Himself. The reward of following Torah is according to the certainty of our devotion. The consequences of forsaking Torah relate to our disregarding that certainty. Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel writes that we see this hinted in a later verse (26:18) which heralds the events which will befall the nation as it rejects the Torah:

"...v'im ad eileh..."
"...and if you still (stray)..."

The last letters of those three words are mem, dalet and hae. They spell midda to remind us that HaShem deals with His people through the mechanism of midda kneged midda, measure per measure. The reward and the retribution from Above parallel the actions and intentions of our deeds below.

Good Shabbos. D Fox

Friday, May 13, 2011

A Thought On Parshas BeHar

A Thought On Parshas Behar

"...v'shavsa ha'aretz Shabbos la'HaShem..."
"...the land must rest a year of rest for HaShem's sake..." (25:2)

Our parsha introduces the concept of a sabbatical year, when the fields are left fallow and the land is at rest. It is referred to as the sabbatical year because it follows six years when the fields are worked and is in that way comparable to Shabbos, which is the seventh day of rest which follows six days when we labor and work.

Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel takes us down two levels further into both the remez, the mystical symbolism of this shmita year being "Shabbos", and then to sod, the spiritual foundation which can be seen in this concept.

The remez and sod of shmitta-as-Shabbos is that by letting the land rest, we are making a global proclamation that HaShem rested on the seventh day and that the land must commemorate this. How is it commemorated?

How many "days of rest" are there in a year? In a year of 52 weeks, we have 52 Shabbasos. There is the Shabbas Shabbason day of Yom Kippur, and one rest day of Rosh HaShannah. That equals 54 days of rest. The first and last days of Sukkos are days of rest, as are the first and last days of Pesach. There is one day of Shavuos. That equals 59 days of rest per year.

Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel quotes Rabbeinu Meir ben Yehuda who calculated that when we multiply 59 by each of the six years of labor, they add up to 354. There are 354 days of rest in the six year cycle. However, in that the land is being cultivated during those years, even though the Jewish people rest as they observe each weekly Shabbos, the land itself is not resting, as it continues to labor with producing crops.

In a lunar year, which is the time frame observed during the sabbatical year, there are 354 days. It turns out, then, that for each "Shabbos" day which the land "labored" during the six year cycle, there is a corresponding day of rest during the year of Shmitta-Shabbos. This is the deeper meaning of referring to those years as "Shabbos la'HaShem." The land itself proclaims that HaShem rested on the seventh day, by giving up its work in a manner which corresponds to the labor of the fields which had taken place during each of the holy days of the prior six year cycle.

Wishing you a good and restful Shabbos. D Fox

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

A Thought On Parshas Emor

A Thought on Parshas Emor

"...bikurim la'HaShem..."
"...first-harvest offerings to HaShem..." (23:17)

Many years ago as a young man, my gemara chavrusa was the late Rabbi Levi Meier a'h who had been menahel in Rav Wasserman's zt'l yeshiva long after I had already graduated. Each of us had been preparing shiurim to give over Shavuos and I remember that he had asked me why Chazal chose to refer to Shavuos as "zman matan Toroseinu" - the season of HaShem giving us the Torah, when this is not even mentioned in the Torah. Nowhere does the Torah link that yom tov observance with the traditional association which we make about it also being the time when we gathered at Sinai.

Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel asks this question as well. He notes that the Shavuous holy day was marked by it being the time of our bringing forth the first-harvest offerings, bikurim. It would have been proper, then, in our yom tov tefilos, to refer to it as "zman hav'as bikureinu" - the season of our bringing the season's first yield. For that matter, he writes, we should have said on Pesach "zman hav'as Omereinu" - the season of our bringing the Omer offering, and on Sukkos we should have said "zman nisuch mei'meinu" - the season of our water libations.

Moreover, Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel contends that the actual giving of the Torah that first year in the desert did not actually fall out on the day on which we now observe Shavuos (he goes into detail to demonstrate this from Talmudic sources.) This raises further question as to why our sages opted to refer to this holy day as "the season of our being given the Torah."

He offers at first the observation that one might argue that our prayer insertion does not claim that the day is yom matan Toroseinu - the actual day of getting the Torah, but rather the word used is zman which simply refers to the overall time of year or season. This would reduce the gravity of his latter question. Nonetheless, the basis for his original question, as later raised by Rabbi Levi Meier, remains. Why did Chazal define Shavuous as anything other than the day when historically, our first-harvest offerings were brought to Jerusalem?

Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel explains that although our prayers at times parallel and echo the order of the sacrifices corresponding to a particular day or season, prayer itself is an expression of our recognizing the goodness bestowed upon us by HaShem. Hence, on Pesach we give thanks that this is zman chei'ruseinu - the season of our national freedom and salvation. On Sukkos we exult over zman simchas'einu - the season of security and elation. On Shavuos, the goodness which is grounds for expressing praise is that we were given the Torah during that time. This is the history of Chazal focusing on our personal expression of gratitude during the holy days, rather than enunciating the rituals associated with each of them. The prayers are own own spiritual and verbal offering, and must express our personal experience of each holy day, and how we connect to it. Shavuos is zman matan Toros'einu.

Now, whereas Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel had queried the seeming lack of any mentioned
link in the scriptures between Shavuos and matan Torah, he observes that there are some exceptional highlights of the Shavuous ritual: shtei ha'lechem (the two-loaf offering) and shivas kvasim (the seven-sheep offering) are mentioned in our parsha. At a mystical level, he suggests that the two loaves allude to the two tablets upon which the words of Torah were first etched; the seven sheep allude to the seven sections of the Torah which Chazal identify (see Shabbos116a) and which are hinted at in Mishlei 9:1 as "the seven pillars."

Good Shabbos. D Fox