A Thought On Parshios Nitzavim-VaYelech
A Thought On Parshios Nitzavim-VaYelech
"...l'maan sfos ha'rovah es ha'tz'mea..."
"...let me equate the moist with the dry..." (29:18)
This poetic verse captures the frame of mind of those Jews who downplay the many rules and restrictions which the Torah asks of us. It portrays the rationalization people use when they want to make their own standards, feeling that Torah is not relevant for them in their times and culture. They do as they see fit and want to connect "the moist with the dry." What is that idiom all about?
Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel takes a discussion from the Talmud (Sanhedrin 76b) which cites examples of such misguided thinking. He examines what we now consider the Kantian Categorical Imperative that morality is based on a standard of rationality, rather than G-d given principles. He challenges this with a specific case: am I obligated to return to a pagan an object that he has lost? Some will argue that the moral principle of integrity is absolute, and that it is binding regardless of the persons involved. A Torah perspective, though, is that we distinguish a moral deed from a mitzva.
When the Torah commands us to return a lost object to its owner, no mitzva is fulfilled when that object was lost by a pagan. This is not to say that the act of returning that thing is not a good thing or is never to be done. It is intended, though, to illustrate that a Jew must learn about the G-d given commandments, and must know their applications and details. The formal commandment to return a lost object was given to Jews and refers to objects lost by Jewish persons. We do not rush to give back the item because it is the good thing to do, or the right thing to do, or the moral thing to do. We rush to perform the mitzva because the good and right thing to do is whatever the specific, precise mitzva requires. It is not a matter of being moral or doing moral acts. Our starting place is learning to do what the Torah asks us. That is why we return a lost object, and that is why the commandment is specific to objects lost by Jews.
Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel suggests that the "moist and thirsty" ones of our verse are the non-Jew and the Jew. The non-Jew is sated when it comes to serving our G-d. He does not feel a need to do it, as long as he is a moral person. Morals dictate his decisions and his values. That is enough for him. He is "moist", saturated with his own perceived righteousness. The thirsty ones are the Jews. We thirst for ways to serve HaShem. We may have our own moral system, but we go beyond those morals because we are still thirsty for the ultimate sense of doing right and doing good. Our ultimate standard is the way of mitzvos.
When a person equates the moist with the thirsty, he fails to distinguish between those who do what they do based on their personal (and circumstantial) set of values, versus those who march beneath the banner of Torah. This reduces Torah into mortal morality, and does not acknowledge the difference between a man-made system and the Divine one (that stance is part of the reason that Spinoza was excommunicated).
Based on this interpretation of our verse, Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel ruled that on Purim, it is forbidden to give gifts to a non-Jew in the manner in which we are commanded to give mishloach manos on that day. Although our Shulchan Aruch rules somewhat differently with regard to giving donations to anyone who asks us on Purim, our master Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel asserts this prohibition (as did Rashi and some other earlier authorities).
We must know the difference between what we think is right and just, and what the Torah instructs as. We need to feel the contrast between wet and dry, sated and thirsting. May this final Shabbos of the year 5751 find us still thirsting for the life sustaining waters of Torah, and may our parched souls be soothed by its teachings. Good Shabbos. D Fox
"...l'maan sfos ha'rovah es ha'tz'mea..."
"...let me equate the moist with the dry..." (29:18)
This poetic verse captures the frame of mind of those Jews who downplay the many rules and restrictions which the Torah asks of us. It portrays the rationalization people use when they want to make their own standards, feeling that Torah is not relevant for them in their times and culture. They do as they see fit and want to connect "the moist with the dry." What is that idiom all about?
Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel takes a discussion from the Talmud (Sanhedrin 76b) which cites examples of such misguided thinking. He examines what we now consider the Kantian Categorical Imperative that morality is based on a standard of rationality, rather than G-d given principles. He challenges this with a specific case: am I obligated to return to a pagan an object that he has lost? Some will argue that the moral principle of integrity is absolute, and that it is binding regardless of the persons involved. A Torah perspective, though, is that we distinguish a moral deed from a mitzva.
When the Torah commands us to return a lost object to its owner, no mitzva is fulfilled when that object was lost by a pagan. This is not to say that the act of returning that thing is not a good thing or is never to be done. It is intended, though, to illustrate that a Jew must learn about the G-d given commandments, and must know their applications and details. The formal commandment to return a lost object was given to Jews and refers to objects lost by Jewish persons. We do not rush to give back the item because it is the good thing to do, or the right thing to do, or the moral thing to do. We rush to perform the mitzva because the good and right thing to do is whatever the specific, precise mitzva requires. It is not a matter of being moral or doing moral acts. Our starting place is learning to do what the Torah asks us. That is why we return a lost object, and that is why the commandment is specific to objects lost by Jews.
Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel suggests that the "moist and thirsty" ones of our verse are the non-Jew and the Jew. The non-Jew is sated when it comes to serving our G-d. He does not feel a need to do it, as long as he is a moral person. Morals dictate his decisions and his values. That is enough for him. He is "moist", saturated with his own perceived righteousness. The thirsty ones are the Jews. We thirst for ways to serve HaShem. We may have our own moral system, but we go beyond those morals because we are still thirsty for the ultimate sense of doing right and doing good. Our ultimate standard is the way of mitzvos.
When a person equates the moist with the thirsty, he fails to distinguish between those who do what they do based on their personal (and circumstantial) set of values, versus those who march beneath the banner of Torah. This reduces Torah into mortal morality, and does not acknowledge the difference between a man-made system and the Divine one (that stance is part of the reason that Spinoza was excommunicated).
Based on this interpretation of our verse, Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel ruled that on Purim, it is forbidden to give gifts to a non-Jew in the manner in which we are commanded to give mishloach manos on that day. Although our Shulchan Aruch rules somewhat differently with regard to giving donations to anyone who asks us on Purim, our master Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel asserts this prohibition (as did Rashi and some other earlier authorities).
We must know the difference between what we think is right and just, and what the Torah instructs as. We need to feel the contrast between wet and dry, sated and thirsting. May this final Shabbos of the year 5751 find us still thirsting for the life sustaining waters of Torah, and may our parched souls be soothed by its teachings. Good Shabbos. D Fox
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