tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-255459852024-03-08T06:57:24.335-08:00A thought on the ParshaRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.comBlogger500125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-65186300046216099422016-10-19T14:44:00.001-07:002016-10-19T14:44:18.387-07:00A Thought on Parshas Breishis
A Thought On Parshas Bereishis
Introduction
This has been a challenging year. My trips to Jerusalem were delayed owing to my aveilus for my father a'h. I was able to go to Israel in the early summer, and spent some time combing the sefarim stores for my yearly Rishon. I visited a number of places but to no avail. There are seldom Rishonim appearing these days, and I have had the zechus of covering many of those which are accessible. Finally, one day, I chanced into a small basement shop and the owner told me that he privately prints a nice edition of a lesser-studied Rishon. I looked it through but was not convinced that this should be my first choice. I asked him to hold on to it, and that I was going to shop a bit more. He understood totally. I returned about two weeks later and settled on his sefer. I was excited to have it. I told no one.
However, about a month ago, I was visiting a major American yeshiva, where the mashgiach has asked to consult with me. Some years ago, he had been studying faxed copies of my parsha emails, enjoying them. At the close of our meeting, he asked me if I had seen a recently-published "new Rishon." I had never heard of that reference, and he showed me a copy, saying that I could obtain it from a local individual whose father had worked on the ancient manuscripts and published it. I arranged to obtain it, and finally decided that this would become my choice for this year.
Little is known of the author. We cannot be sure which country he came from, as he is not cited in the classic biographical works, his sefer was never published until this edition came out seven years ago, and we can only estimate the time in which he lived by the occasional references he makes to earlier scholars. From those citations, it would seem that he was either from France, Germany or Austria, and would have lived after the beginning of the 13th century.
His work is largely remez, meaning it works at a deeper level of interpreting the Torah's allusions and hidden, hinted messages, as opposed to elucidating the text and its lessons. In many ways, he writes like the Rabbeinu Efraim whose works we studied many years ago. What is unique about this sefer is that it first emerged in manuscript form in Yemen, of all places, about three centuries ago! This might be the reason that is exists at all today, for many manuscripts of European origin disappeared or were destroyed. How it made its way to Yemen is not clear, but there are only a few copies of the manuscript known to exist, and we are about to study this new edition. I introduce to you the Sefer HaRemazim - the Book of Allusions - of Rabbeinu Yoel.
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"...v'ha'aretz haisa tohu va'vohu v'choshech..."
"...and the world was empty and formless, and darkness..." (1:2)
Remez approaches the Torah for its parallel meanings, looking for hints and allusions to other levels of understanding. Many of the remazim seem, initially, unrelated to the overt meaning of the verses until we begin to spy beneath the mist some connections, some relationship, between the overt and the covert. Rabbeinu Yoel finds in the opening passages of the Torah some forecasting of later events pertaining to the Jewish people.
When else was HaShem's world "empty and formless"? When there was no longer a Holy Temple where the Jews could serve Him. This is hinted in the words of the first verse above: tohu has the numeric value of 411, and the first Mikdash was laid waste, formless and empty, in its 411th year.The second Mikdash stood for 420 years, which is the numeric value of the word haisa. The word which follows, choshech, hints to the darkness which fell over the world when the sacred light in the Temples vanished.
"...va'Yomer lo, aiecha..."
"...and HaShem said to him, where are you?..." (3:9)
The word aiecha is spelled "aicha." When HaShem appears to call out as if uncertain where Adam and Chava are hiding, His question "where are you" equals the word aicha which means "how could this happen?" This is paralleled when Yeshaya the prophet (22:12) says that HaShem called for tears and lamentation. Our sages say that this began when Adam committed the first sin. Yermiahu the prophet echoed this lamentation and crying when he asked "Aicha?" The first lamentation for man's misdeeds began in Eden and reverberated again when the Mikdash was destroyed. We resonate with the pain expressed by HaShem, when we recite Aicha, just as He said Aiecha.
"...na v'nod ti'h'yeh..."
"...you will be wandering and restless..." (4:12)
The first human exile following the banishment from Eden was the forecast that Kain would wander restlessly. The last letters of the three words are ayin, dalet, and hae. They form the word aidah - the chosen people. The exile of Kain set into motion the exiles of the Jewish people following the destruction of each Mikdash. This is why in golus we wander, restless.
Thus, teaches Rabbeinu Yoel, the words of the Torah are also blueprinting for us the dynamics and processes which will unfold in the world for the rest of time. This year iy'H we will peer into the Torah through his mystical lens, exploring its remazim.
Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-59358089364897244272016-10-19T14:43:00.001-07:002016-10-19T14:43:02.284-07:00A Thought on Parshas V'zos Habracha"...v'lo kam navi od b'Yisroel k'Moshe..." (34:10)
"...and no one else had arisen as a prophet of Israel as Moshe..."
In this final parsha of the Torah, ibn Shu'aib turns again to a deeper analysis of the meaning of the verses. He ponders the message whereby the Torah tells us that no one was like Moshe. The verse says, literally, that "no prophet had arisen like Moshe" which is in the past tense. That is a bit mysterious. There were many prophets in the centuries which followed the era of Moshe. Does our verse mean to imply that after Moshe, there arose someone greater than him? Surely one of our 13 Ani Maamin principles is that Moshe was the superior prophet.
ibn Shu'aib shares that there are different ways to understand the verse. He cites the Rambam, who writes that Moshe's superiority was that when he forecast miraculous events, they happened just as he had described and they were revealed to believers and heretics alike. An example of this is verse 12 which says that the signs and wonders occurred "in the presence of Pharaoh, his servants and the Jewish nation." Everyone around witnessed the miracles, even evil people. In contrast, other prophets' revelations had a selective "audience". Not everyone was able to perceive or witness the signs which they forecast. An example of this is Melachim 2, 8:4, where Elisha's servant is asked to explain to the king what miracles Elisha had generated.
In contrast, the Ramban views the contrast between Moshe and other prophets as a matter of range and intensity of the wonders which they facilitated. Moshe was there for the spectacular giving of the Torah, which was unparalleled before or after him. Moshe was there for the Mon, the Clouds of Glory, and the Pillars of Fire, which endured for forty years. The Well, the Quail, the travel through wilderness without fears of snakes, scorpions and beasts, lasted for forty years. None of the other prophets were involved in miracles of such a range, and for such sustained intervals. Ramban also writes that to Moshe were revealed all of the visions and prophecies which would ever be given over throughout history, whereas other prophets only knew the prophecies which they experienced personally.
As for ibn Shu'aib, our master contends that the literal wording of the verse - the past tense - teaches an important lesson: everything was predestined before the creation of the world. Everyone who would ever have any Divine prophecy was predesignated from that "time before there was time." Therefore, all prophecy which would ever surface on Earth was bound to be manifest, so that when the Torah writes that "no prophet arose such as Moshe", this was because all of the prophets were already "there" (to back this up, he cites Yeshaya 48:16 "m'es heyosa sham Ani" - "from the time it came into being, I was there.") In parshas VaEra, HaShem told Moshe of his superior prophetic visions; in parshas BeHalosecha, we see Moshe's ascendancy above others who had visions; finally, in our parsha, this verse hints at how all the prophecies and prophets which had been planned from before existence were unequal to Moshe's.
This ends our year of learning the Torah with Rabbeinu Yehoshua ibn Shu'aib. His style was rather versatile and he thinks and writes differently than the French and Italian Rishonim whose works we have studied. Many of his lessons and views are memorable and unique. I gained considerably from this scholar's work, and hope to refer to him in the years to come. And now - the time has come to begin a new Rishon on the Torah. We have merited study with Rashi, Ibn Ezra (short and long versions), Rav Saadia Gaon, Chezkuni, Rabbeinu Bachya, Rabbeinu Yona, Rabbeinu Avraham ben Rambam, Recanati, Radak, Seforno, Rashbam, Rabbeinu Efraim, Ralbag, Rosh, Rambam, Rabbeinu Chaim Paltiel, Bechor Shor, Rabbeinu Avigdor, Panae'ach Raza, Sefer HaGan, ibn Shu'aib... Let us see what parshas Bereishis brings to our weekly parsha emails, with the loving help of HaShem. Owing to my travels, I am sending this one out early, and it will be followed shortly well in advance, by the new Rishon on Bereishis.
Good Shabbos and good Yom Tov! D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-48932093930130926652016-10-11T01:40:00.001-07:002016-10-11T01:40:32.086-07:00A Thought on Parshas Ha'azinu"...lu'lae ka'as oyev agur..." (32:27)
"...were it not for the anger the enemy has in store..."
In this penultimate parsha, the Shira of Moshe exemplifies the very nature of song. Song is a fusing of both parts of the human brain - the structured verbal half and the abstracting imaginal half. Verbal language is focused and logical. Imagery is unbridled by the rigidity of logic and precision. It is for this reason that song, while utilizing words, and also utilizing sound and image and abstraction, can transcend beyond a cerebral impact and can trigger feelings, memories, sensations and other non-verbal reactions in those who sing and those who hear it.
ibn Shu'aib is very aware of these dual properties of this Song, and explains that each word and phrase serves a logical purpose - revealing a factual meaning, yet the Song also goes beyond a recounting of fact, and enters into a revelation of primordial time as well as a forecasting of times yet to come. He sees in Ha'azinu references to the era of the Creation, and the era of Moshiach and the afterlife.
The Song is predicated on the fact that HaShem has given us the gift of Teshuva. He has shown us the ways in which we can retrace our actions and undo the negative effects and consequences of straying from Torah and Mitzvos. Based on a midrash, ibn Shu'aib writes that HaShem likens us to prisoners who have an escape route but who fail to use it. The warden is not impressed by their decision to stay put. He thinks that they are foolish for not taking advantage of an opportunity to flee to freedom. HaShem gave us a mechanism to escape from the prisons which we create for ourselves through decadence, dishonesty and deceptiveness. That is Teshuva. We can actually reverse our direction and get out of our impure ruts, if we take advantage of that opportunity. These Days of Repentance are our finest opportunity yet if we fail to run with Teshuva, HaShem judges us as self-encased in our own folly, by choice.
This is one message of Ha'azinu: our national blundering and perfidy has HaShem declaring "Af'eihim ashbisa m'enosh zichram lulai kaas o'yev agor" - I scattered the Jews into exile and would have exterminated them from human memory, but I was concerned about the vicious nations." If we stop and think about this hypothetical, something seems wrong. What does it mean that HaShem would have exterminated us except that He was concerned about the nations and their viciousness? If there would be no more Jews, what harm could their viciousness do to us?
ibn Shu'aib revels a deeper truth. Jew hatred is actually G-d hatred. The oppression which the nations spew against us is an effort to rid the world of any trace of Holiness. The wars against the Jews have always been wars against What or Who we Jews represent. If there were no Jews left, HaShem's morality and His standards for human purity would still be under attack. It is reminiscent of the Tower of Bavel, which began as a vain attempt to ascend to the Heavens in order to "kill G-d." That battle has never ended. There is still a war being raged against Heaven.
This is why the subsequent verses have HaShem asserting "vengeance is Mine." We might assume that this means that HaShem will avenge our suffering at the hands of the nations. ibn Shu'aib clarifies that it really means that HaShem takes His revenge against those who seek to obscure His Presence in the world. Vengeance is His.
Good Shabbos. D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-4947431779248550212016-10-05T11:02:00.001-07:002016-10-05T11:02:15.047-07:00A Thought on Parshas Nitzavim
"...v'lo Ya'az'vecha..." (31:6)
"...and HaShem will never forsake you..."
As we move from Nitzavim to VaYelech, two parshios which are often read together but on years such as 5777 are separated, ibn Shu'aib continues on last week's theme of teshuva. He actually has a long essay on Rosh HaShanna, but I will focus here on his parsha commentary alone.
The Torah reminds us that HaShem gave us His Torah and mitzvos and that they are within our reach. They are "in your mouth and in your heart to do." He cites a Midrash Tanchuma that we are expected to serve HaShem with our entire physical being, which includes our utilizing our physical selves to correct and remedy our errors. This can become a means of kapparah, atonement. ibn Shu'aib offers a recipe for such physically-sourced atonement procedures.
Some of us fantasize about improper acts, hirhurei aveira. The mind's straying can be corrected, he writes, by our having fantasy or ideational preoccupation about personal prayers which we long to say, and we can have remedial fantasies in developing self-guided images of HaShem's creations and manifest actions. Imagine what you would pray for if you had the patience, the time and the incentive. Imagine what Matan Torah would have been like had you been there. Those tasks represent sacred use of fantasy.
When one has strayed with his eyes, his eyes should be directed to increased efforts at personal Torah study. Read Torah with your eyes. When one has misused his ears, he should make more efforts to listen to others who share words of Torah. Listen and be inspired.The improper use of one's hands should be remedied through putting on Tefillin, or other constructive forms of serving HaShem, such as writing down words of Torah, and performance of "manual" mitzvos. Put those hands to work in serving HaShem. When one has used his legs incorrectly (we have an al chait for "ritzas raglayim l'hara"), let him walk to shul. Let him walk to study Torah. He can also walk to help bury the dead, to comfort the bereaved, to visit the infirm, to attend a bris. Let the mind's repentant stirrings and the soul's longings for closeness to Heaven translate into activities which use the entire self. Kol atzmosai.
He offers a metaphor: when a person is not well, the doctor tries to determine whether it is because he has too much, or too little, of something in his body. If he has too much, the body needs emptying out and he has to void or reject that troublesome ingredient or substance. If his Illness is because his body has too little of a substance or nutrient, the doctor must instruct him to replenish the deficiency. With our efforts to do teshuva, he says, we also need to determine where our soul suffers from excess, and where from insufficiency. The failure to perform positive commandments when we have the opportunity is like an internal deficiency and requires that we feed this emptiness by increasing our performance and engagement in proper, sacred conduct. If our spiritual malady stems from excessive involvement with the forbidden, then we need to "void" ourselves. How is that done? ibn Shu'aib says that fasting, sitting out opportunities to pursue unnecessary stimulation of one's mortal comforts, and expelling our wealth to help others are ways in which we get rid of the excesses through which we often over-stimulate ourselves.
May our efforts during these Ten Days of Repentance be acceptable and may this first Shabbos of 5777 be a good one. D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-63167008592197809772016-09-28T14:02:00.001-07:002016-09-28T14:02:02.749-07:00A Thought on Parshas Nitavim
"...v'atah tashuv..."
"...and you will return to HaShem..." (30:8)
As we have seen in the last few parshios, ibn Shu'aib has taken a far more homiletic approach as we near the close of Sefer Devarim. He makes note of this as he references the upcoming Days of Repentance and the New Year season.
The concept of teshuva is an important one. It is hinted at in a few places within our Torah reading, and it is a topic which requires analysis and understanding. It is relevant to us, and is also of conceptual complexity as a theological and a psychological process. How is it that people err, regret, repent and then seem to propel themselves in an inspired direction to make spiritual and interpersonal changes? How does that work? What are the internal dynamics as well as the cosmic mechanisms that allow motivated change to reverse Divine decrees and alter personal status?
ibn Shu'aib addresses a number of these matters, and we will explore one of his ideas. He cites the adage made familiar by Chazal, "in the place where the penitent stands, the thoroughly righteous cannot stand." (Brachos 34b). Generally, this is interpreted as meaning that the ba'al teshuva can attain heights which even those who have led a lifetime of loyal devotion can never reach. However, we have other sources which depict the value of, say, the prayers of the life-long observant as exceeding those of the recently-returned Jew.
ibn Shu'aib reviews some different views about this adage, some of which he finds in the writings of the Rambam. He asserts that there are two major approaches, that of the philosophers, and that of the Sages. He suggests that one can find scriptural support for both views. The philosophers contend that righteous people are of a different breed. By dedicating themselves to a life of piety for the sake of serving HaShem, they integrate their human urges and conflicts within their spiritual character and are no longer plagued by "the yetzer" which challenges the average person. These philosophers disagree with the adage and believe that the highest spiritual attainment is made by the life-long pious, not by the struggling penitent who is haunted by the temptation of past experience and lurking passion.
The Sages, who coined the adage, view this very differently. They posit that the more one struggles, and emerges victorious, the greater is his or her reward. The more victorious one is, the more he must struggle with "yetzer." Hence, the yetzer grows in concert with our victories, and the struggles of the successful penitent increase with each stride. This is in contrast with the pious-for-life who may have much less passion because they have tasted far less temptation. Hence, the growth-bound ba'al teshuva surpasses the "sheltered" ones by virtue of his exponential rewards and accomplishments.
ibn Shu'aib notes that the Rambam has written that of the two approaches, he actually favors the mechanistic view of the philosophers. The greatest people are those who have avoided sin, and their attainments are far beyond those who have not led fuller lives of spiritual fulfillment. So, what did our Sages mean about "the place where the penitent stands is beyond that of the fully righteous"? ibn Shu'aib explains that the adage is not about the penitent himself; a tzadik's spiritual achievements are loftier than those of the ba'al teshuva. The adage is about "the place."
A ba'al teshuva may have subdued his yetzer, but above, there are accounts to be settled because of his prior misdeeds and errors. He has "spiritual adversaries" whose plan is to take his soul to task for the things which he committed before "becoming religious." From the standpoint of "middas ha'din" - the Divine attribute of Justice, he is really in trouble!
So what happens to the ba'al teshuva? What is his fate? ibn Shu'aib writes that the middas ha'rachamim, the Divine attribute of Mercy, protects this person's soul by beckoning him to the very Kisae HaKavod - the Throne of Glory. It is as if he is a commoner who once defied the king. The palace guards and the king's servants despise the person, and are actually out to get him. He runs to the king, admitting his error, pledges his loyalty henceforth, and moves so close to the throne that no one can get him, and no one will make a move against him in that he is positioning himself so close to the king. This is what our Sages intend when they observe that "the place" where the penitent stands is out of reach when the pious ones look at his past with judgmental disapproval. They are not necessarily wrong in this stance. But, they cannot condemn him once HaShem Himself has accepted the person's teshuva.
May the coming Shabbos and the Days of Din, and Teshuva, beckon to us and welcome our decision to return. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-45839482241575360132016-09-08T22:21:00.001-07:002016-09-08T22:21:39.144-07:00A Thought on Parshas Shoftim
"...el nachal eisan..."
"...to a harsh valley..."
"...to a rushing stream..." (21:4)
The Torah introduces the ritual of Egla Arufa - the red heifer - which is brought in the aftermath of discovering a human corpse but having no suspect or culprit. After a number of steps, the heifer is killed in the harsh valley (or rushing stream). You may have noticed that I have offered two English translations for the expression nachal eisan. In the Holy Tongue of Hebrew, a nachal can be either a valley, or a stream. The adjective eisan usually means something strong, so if it is modifying the noun "valley", it becomes 'harsh valley', since the term strong valley would not make much sense. If it is modifying the noun stream, then a 'strong' stream would be a 'rushing stream'.
There is actually a disagreement among the Rishonim as to what this Biblical nachal eisan was. Rashi and virtually all of the other Rishonim view it as a harsh valley where nothing flourishes. That is where the heifer is axed and placed. However, the Rambam stands alone among almost everyone else and translates the term "a mighty or rushing stream." It is quite intriguing that they argue about a historical fact, albeit one which has been obscured over the many centuries.
Other than philological grounds, what might be the basis for this significant debate? The first image is one of a dry, barren plot of land, whereas the second image is one of a wet, wild river.
ibn Shu'aib helps us here. He suggests that both approaches actually agree to a degree, namely, that this is a valley, or arroyo, which at times has a stream coursing through it. We do know that once the egla arufa is killed in that place, the area may no longer be used for anything. It cannot be farmed or settled. It becomes an off-limits memorial to the tragedy which happened nearby.
Now, we understand from our Sages that the Torah orders the entire surrounding community to prepare for the egla arufa ceremony, in the hope that everyone who might know facts will come forth and help find the killer (and thus avoid having to do the ritual). Part of the motivation to help find that killer is to protect that valley from becoming off limits. Now, if it is a harsh, barren area, per Rashi, it cannot be used for anything anyway, so what kind of motivation is there to save it? The answer is that sometimes that valley is flooded by a rushing river (which we know can happen in dry desert gullies), at which point the valley becomes a temporary water source to help irrigate local farms. So, nobody wants to risk loosing a potential reservoir, so they will all come forth to hunt for the killer and spare the valley. The failure to do so means that the ritual will go ahead, the area will be taboo, and the message will be driven home that the potential of leading a good life was forever taken from the victim, just as the potential to ever use this area has now been ruined. This is the deeper meaning of doing the ritual in a dry valley close to a river.
ibn Shu'aib then suggests that the Rambam views the deeper meaning here not from the standpoint of the valley, but from the standpoint of the actual river that sometimes flows through it. The egla arufa is axed not in the ground of the valley, but in the water flowing nearby. This way, there will be no trace left of the atoning ritual, as the waters sweep the remains away. ibn Shu'aib suggests that a reason for this is to show that those people who sought symbolic atonement for the death of that unknown stranger, who had passed through their midst, needed to feel that whatever error of negligence might have led to his murder would now be corrected forevermore. No more would they overlook the lonesome stranger and no more would they become implicated in tragic wrongdoings. An earlier example of this, writes ibn Shu'aib, is when Moshe (Shmos 32:20) pulverized the egel ha'zahav and then scattered its remains over the waters - al panei ha'mayim. When that episode is reviewed in Devarim (9:20), instead of using the word "mayim", Moshe says nachal, just as does our verse. This supports the view of the Rambam that the nachal eisan is the rushing stream. Water is a medium for removing filth and refuse.
So, according to the "valley" approach, the death of the stranger will be remembered forever as we avoid using the land. According to the "stream" approach, our erroneous ways will be forgotten, as the waters wash away all trace of past iniquity Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-33163694378111021682016-08-30T08:59:00.001-07:002016-08-30T08:59:16.160-07:00A Thought on Parshas Ra'eh"...u'Bo tid'ba'kun..."
"...and you shall cling to Him..." (13:5)
Verses instructing us to cling to HaShem appear in a number of places in the Torah. The notion of "clinging" to HaShem, Who has no form, no limits, no substance, and no single location, is a challenging one in our theology. It seems to run contrary to some of our most essential principles, such as G-d having neither dimension nor matter. How can a person be commanded, then, to cling to Him?
It is for this reason that Chazal provide us with a means of understanding the scope of the concept. They explain to us that since it is entirely impossible to actually cling to Him, we fulfill the verse by clinging to those who serve Him. We help support Torah scholars, we interact with them, and we associate with them and with their families. This is regarded as a way of clinging to "HaShem".
ibn Shu'aib reviews a number of other interpretations. He cites the Ramban, who understood the verse to mean that we can actually cling to HaShem with our minds. If our thoughts are on His teachings, and on pondering His Presence in our lives "every moment, every hour, every occasion", then He will seem 'attached' to us. This can be manifest as our viewing every life experience as an intimate encounter with His Divine Presence, so that nothing seems to us like chance or happenstance. The Ramban emphasizes that this too is a way of clinging "to HaShem."
ibn Shu'aib then cites the Rambam, who has written that the concept here is to apply oneself constantly to the quest of knowing and understanding HaShem's majesty and might throughout the entire universe. Knowledge of HaShem is a way of "clinging", too.
He then notes the view of ibn Ezra who suggests that clinging is not a mental process nor a behavioral process. Rather, we cannot cling to HaShem at all, so the Torah is not commanding us to attempt any facsimile of doing so. Rather, the verse means that if in fact we spend our lives learning and fulfilling the Torah and its mitzvos, then as mundane life ends, our souls will ascend into the realm of pure spirit, and will live on after mortal death within the "Tzror HaChaim" - the supernal source of all life.The verse is not commanding us to do anything. It is forecasting the consequence of living by His word.The eternity of the spirit will be the means through which we shall, ultimately, cling "to" HaShem.
ibn Shu'aib then cites Rabbeinu Chananel who views the clinging not as a commandment to act or to think in a particular way, but as a promise from HaShem that there is an afterlife. The process is that by our being focused on following the Word of HaShem, we draw Divine personal hashgacha - monitoring of our lives - which in turn leads to ultimate hashgacha - the reality of a world to come. When we will merit reward in the ultimate as a result of living our lives with ultimate devotion, we will then cling to HaShem forever.
Good Shabbos. Rosh Chodesh Elul Sameach. D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-12552102238933222932016-08-24T16:43:00.001-07:002016-08-24T16:43:21.675-07:00A Thought on Parshas Ekev
"...Hi'shamer lecha pen tishkach es HaShem..." (8:11)
"...Be careful not to forget HaShem by not keeping His mitzvos..."
Chazal have reminded us that "all things are in the 'hands of Heaven' except the fear of Heaven." This adage is well known in Torah circles yet has been given many varied interpretations and understandings.
ibn Shu'aib quotes the Ra'A'Vad (Rabbeinu Avraham Ben Dovid, a very famous scholar of 12th century Provence, whom Ibn Shu'aib has already told us was purported to have had ruach ha'kodesh - see A Thought on Parshas Ekev). The Ra'A'Vad's take on the saying is that it means that all mitzvah fulfillment is determined by HaShem: if HaShem does not bless me with a house, then I cannot place a ma'akeh or a mezuzah on it. If HaShem has not blessed me with the means to acquire a garment, then I cannot place tzitzis on it. If He has not blessed me with wealth, then I cannot purchase a lulav, or a shofar, or give charity. What is the exception to this general principle? Fear of heaven, in contrast with all other commandments, can and must be attainable by a person whether or not he has material goods. The task is given over to each person, and it is thus not in the hands of heaven whether or not I will actualize myself by developing true fear of G-d. Aleinu l'sha'bae'ach - it is up to each of us to work on our reverence for G-d.
Although ibn Shu'aib declares that he prefers a different interpretation than this approach of the Ra'A'Vad, he does develop the theme of how intimate our bond is with HaShem through our readiness to perform His mitzvos. He stresses that this is particularly important in galus - when we live in the diaspora - where our hope can fade and our consciousness of HaShem can diminish as our Jewish identity falters. He cites an allegorical tale of a a prince who was ordered by the king to leave the palace for travel. The son worried and asked his father what would happen to him, and to the king, when people saw him far away from home. They might say that the king had forgotten him, or that he had been sold into captivity, never to return, all of which would affect the king's own reputation and grandeur. The king consoled the son, saying that "wherever you might travel, my royal seal is with you." You will never forget who you are, I shall never forget you, and the people whom you encounter will always know that you are my son.
ibn Shu'aib observes that we Jews still do stand out. We don tzitzis, we bind tefillin, we place a mezuzah, we reside in a sukkah, we blow shofar, wave lulav, we arise and we later return, day and night, to our houses of worship and our houses of Torah study. All of that allegiance to Torah and to Halacha constitutes our "wearing the royal uniform" of our King. This is our Divinely designated seal which indicates that we remain His children, and are not forsaken or forgotten. It also is visible and apparent to the nations around us that we are still different, and remain loyal to Avinu Malkeinu.
This helps remind us not to forget or forsake Him, which is the key to reviving Divine compassion so that we will return, speedily, to the palace of our King.
Good Shabbos. D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-27698820017678355812016-08-17T07:58:00.001-07:002016-08-17T07:58:29.187-07:00A Thought on Parshas Vaeschanan"V'ahavta es HaShem...b'kol levav'echa u'v'kol nafshecha u'v'kol me'odecha..."
"and you will love HaShem will all your heart, soul and possessions..." (6:5)
ibn Shu'aib writes that HaShem has commanded us to take five facets from the first parsha of Shema, and to implement them with five acts. One of them is to fulfill the words "as you lie down" and to read the Shema at night, during the time when we might prepare to lie down. That is, even if we have davened earlier, before nightfall, we repeat the Shema in the form of Krias Shema al ha'Mita. This is the "bedtime Shema", so that we remember the parsha as we prepare to sleep.
Second, we recite the Shema as we rise, to fulfill the words " as you arise." This is why many people attempt to place the reading of Shema near the time of sunup, which is hinted at in the verse (Tehillim 72:5) "and they shall revereYou when the sun shines".
Third, we place the parsha near our heart, which is why we bind tefillin on the left arm nearest the heart, to fulfill "love HaShem with all your heart".
Fourth, we place the parsha near our nefesh - the head-tefillin are worn above "the space between our eyes", opposite "the segment of our brain where mental life and clarity is housed", the domain of the soul.This is a fulfillment of "love HaShem with all your soul".
Fifth, we place the parsha upon the doorposts of our houses. This is a fulfillment of "write them on your doorposts and gates." But it also serves to commemorate the commandment to "love HaShem with all your possessions and wealth." We keep our money and our valuables at home, and our home is also one of our valuables. By posting the mezuzah on the doorposts of our houses, we remember to fulfill this love of HaShem within and around and regarding our material possessions.
Thus, we remember to love HaShem with all of heart with the tefillin bound near the heart. We remember to love HaShem with all of our soul because tefillin rest over the seat of our highest human faculties, which are the tools of the soul. We remember to love HaShem with all of our possessions by placing His words around all of our material possessions.
Remember? Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-80296431023865909852016-08-09T20:15:00.001-07:002016-08-09T20:15:47.691-07:00A Thought on Parshas Devarim"...v'hinchem ha'yom k'kochavei ha'shomayim la'rov..."
"...and here you are today as many as the stars above..." (1:10)
The Torah compares us here to stars. Not only are we somehow like the stars, but we are as vast or as many as the stars. That is a nice comparison, whatever it might mean.
Why the subtle, almost cynical, tone, you might ask, as I write "whatever it might mean"? I write this because in many other places, we are instead compared to the sand, which is also numerous yet has a lower and less lofty connotation than "stars of the heavens." Moreover, we are at times reminded that we are not great or numerous at all, but rather, we are the tiniest of the nations (7:7). What then is the significance of this comparison to the many stars? We are actually a small nation among some very enormous countries and their teeming billions of people.
ibn Shu'aib observes that the word "rov" is not a quantitative adjective but rather a statement of our quality. The word can mean "great" as in 'very big' but it can also mean "great" as in powerful and mighty. The Torah here means that we are greater and more powerful than the stars above, which is a way of telling us that we have "dominion" over the stars and planets (from the conjugation of the word rov as in rabbonim, leaders; a rav is a person in authority). ibn Shu'aib's understanding of the verse actually flows better with its structure: it reads, and means, you are, compared to the stars of the heavens, the greater ones.
How are we the rabbanim of the stars? Our sages often speak about the "Sar" (general) of Esav or of other nations, which means the "star" or "mazal" associated with that particular nation's role and mission on this planet. The nations of the world - ovadei kochavim u'mazalos - deify the stars and planets yet the deeper issue is that each nation is viewed as being "under" a specific G-d-based cosmic force - a mazal - which shapes a nation's fate and process.
In contrast, our verse states that the Jewish nation is not "beneath" any mazal, but rather, we are greater than, or "lord over" every mazal.
ibn Shu'aib brings a midrashic opinion which develops this view. We are meant to illuminate the world as do the stars. Ideally, we are brighter than the stars which shine at night, as the prophetess Devorah declares (Shoftim 5:31) "those who love Him blaze forth like the rising sun." The sun by day, the stars by night. Yet, our verse says, "and here you are today (ha'yom)", which places our star-like shining by day, not by night! What is the meaning of this comparison (other than for those of us familiar with astronomy who know that the sun is also a star, and that stars are suns, so conceivably, if we are like the stars by day, this means we are as bright as the sun, which is what Devorah tells us). ibn Shu'aib clarifies that we are only greater than the stars today: at specific times in our national history, we had the opportunity to ascend in greatness beyond the stars. That happened as we prepared to leave the desert for Israel. That happened as we lived according to halacha. That happened as long as we served HaShem in our own land. As long as the Divine Presence was among us, we indeed shone with glory and illuminated the earth as the stars shine in heaven. However, when we forfeit that role, when we shun halacha, when we reject the Divine Presence r'l, we no long carry that greatness. We are no longer above the stars. In fact, we encounter the nations which are greater in size, and we meet up with their mazalos. That is exile. That is darkness. That is now.
It is now time to prepare for Shabbos Chazon. Good Shabbos on this final Tisha B'Av.
D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-35743610842591092612016-08-03T00:17:00.002-07:002016-08-03T00:17:25.691-07:00A Thought on Parshios Matos - Maasei"...va'yichtov Moshe es motza'eihem l'ma'asei'hem al pi HaShem..."
"...and Moshe wrote their travels according to HaShem's words..." (33:2)
Why the travelogue?
Verse after verse enumerates the destinations and departures of our nation during their forty years in the desert. It is history. Its done. Why is it important that the Torah records for us those place-names in an ancient wilderness? Why does HaShem tell Moshe to write this, as our verse notes?
ibn Shu'aib suggests that the clause "al pi HaShem" - according to HaShem's instruction - does not refer to the travels themselves. We already know that wherever we went, and wherever we go, we do so only according to the word and will of HaShem. ibn Shu'aib reminds us that many parshios ago (9:18) the Torah told us that our travels are al pi HaShem. In the above verse, however, the nuance is that Moshe's writing down the travelogue is al pi HaShem. Namely, HaShem expressly wanted the place-names recorded here. So back to our original question: why?
First, ibn Shu'aib cites Rashi's explanation. We are to derive from the enumeration of the places (enumeration comes from the word "numeral", which thus means the counting or the accounting of the places) that in forty years, there were only 42 "trips", which displays the merciful kindness of HaShem, Who did not drag us exhaustively the entire time. In context, we were not really always on the go, so that the sojourn in the desert included some long intervals of tranquility to enhance our spiritual life.
A second explanation is more mystical. ibn Shu'aib observes that there are 42 places, and in the opening verses of Genesis, from the beginning through the reference to the world being chaotic and void, there are 42 letters. From that point on, the formal creation began, with the appearance of order, structure, form, substance and content. So too, alludes ibn Shu'aib, the process in the desert was a developmental one for this newly-formed young nation. Each journey, each destination and each point of departure, 42 in all, implanted into the internal collective Jewish world the elements with which we could thrive and cope with all that the external world does to us. The years in the desert served as the genesis of Jewry.
ibn Shu'aib next references the view of the Rambam who says that the travels in the desert were real for those who witnessed them, but upon being recorded, they could fall the way of all attempts to chronicle history. Inevitably, people come along centuries later who scoff at a traditional account of facts and, like the National Geographic and some of those irritating tour guides at the Kosel, they defame our national history by bringing back the chaos and void of nonsensical alternative realities. Such spiritual desecration will arise, writes the Rambam, with people contending that the sojourn in the desert could not have happened, and instead, we merely trekked across the habitable portions of the region where there were farms, wells, and hospitable Arabs to provide sustenance and shelter for us. To counter that fabrication, the Torah lists the names of places which clearly do not match up with any border towns, agricultural districts or safe-haven highways used by the Arabs or others. The same Torah asserts that we survived there by the word of HaShem, who sustained us with miracles, signs and wonders. We can derive such reassurance from the list of place-names which are now lost ruins in the desolate wildness of a barren, inhospitable land where only HaShem could protect and shelter us (and still does.) ibn Shu'aib states that this explanation is a noble one.
Finally, he cites the explanations given by other midrashim and commentaries who opine that the named places will one day serve as way-stations as we make our way back from exile. As we stop over at each recovered and revealed location, we will bless HaShem who did miracles for our forefathers there, and we will sing praise as we ourselves feel reassured that all of the events in the Torah actually happened!
I give praise and song this week to HaShem who has brought Rabbi Avrahom Rosenberg shlit'a of Philadelphia and Lakewood into the life of my favorite only daughter, Penina Baila Vita, who is a kallah! Mazal tov and good Shabbos. D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-79987871387108747832016-07-21T08:20:00.001-07:002016-07-21T08:20:32.773-07:00A Thought on Parshas Balak"...va'yiftach HaShem es pi ha'ason..." (22:28)
"...and HaShem opened the mouth of the donkey..."
This week we study the puzzling passage of the sorcerer Bilaam, who experienced at least four vision-encounters from HaShem. Perhaps the best known of those experiences is the episode of the donkey that talked to Bilaam. Chazal tell us that the creation of 'the mouth of the donkey' took place early on in the saga of genesis, so important was its role in the story of our people and in the story of humanity itself.
It appears as if the conversation between Bilaam and his donkey was brief. It is a matter of debate between our Sages as to how long the animal survived after that interaction. It is also a debate between the Sages as to whether Bilaam alone heard the voice of his beast (something that a sorcerer is more likely to experience) or whether the entourage of Balak also heard that communication.
Ibn Shu'aib cites both views in an effort to work through the meaning of the passage. He begins by opining that the Divine message behind the granting of speech to the donkey was like this: HaShem is the One Who grants speech and hearing (Shmos 3:11), giving and removing both as He wishes. It is a remarkable veering from 'teva' - 'nature' - that HaShem would give the faculty of speech to an animal, yet His message to Bilaam was that 'just as I can implant speech, so do I determine what and who can communicate at all times'. This was to signify to Bilaam the futility of his quest to curse the Blessed Nation. Only HaShem determines outcomes.
So, according to this approach, the only one who needed to experience the speech of the donkey was Bilaam himself. His 'prophetic vision' was to sober him, not to crown him with an aura of superiority. Thus, reasons ibn Shu'aib, Bilaam was not going to share his encounter with anyone else. It was nothing to brag about that HaShem had granted him a supernatural encounter as a means of deflating his plans to curse the Jews. In fact, he would have been humiliated to share with the Balak cartel that he had heard a donkey talk, and had been warned by it to keep quiet. According to that approach, the implication of the next verse (22:29) that the donkey died after this, takes on a different meaning. The verse means that HaShem saw to it that the beast reverted to its 'animal state', meaning that it lost its enhanced status as a speaker. The power of speech is a life enhancement (see Berishis 2:7). The donkey's 'death' meant that it's higher faculty was no longer present, which is a relative death, or loss of a life quality.
Now, the other view holds that not only Bilaam but all of his entourage heard the donkey speak. This approach considers that the entire group witnessed the event because they also sought some form of mystical encounter, whether Divine (in their perception) or whether occult. But they did hear the animal talk to Bilaam. Whether or not its message led them to disparage Bilaam or whether it served to sober them at that supernatural moment and to leave them in awe of a higher reality, the group was more focused on the mystical phenomenon than on its impact on the now-humiliated Bilaam.
Why did the donkey then die? According to this approach, it's death was a Divine intervention. Not only had its moment and purpose in creation come, and gone, but the risk was now present that the occult-seeking group would deify the beast. Its demise prevented such idolatry from occurring (compare how Chazal relate how last week's copper snakes were later misperceived by Jews as having some supernatural power which needed to be revered, leading King Chezkiah to destroy them). The donkey had fulfilled its purpose in creation and could not now deflect humanity onto a deviant tangent of believing in any force, energy or power other than HaShem.
Good Shabbos. D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-47870439446813766992016-07-13T09:32:00.001-07:002016-07-13T09:32:24.985-07:00A Thought on Parshas ChukasA Thought On Parshas Chukas
A Thought On Parshas Chukas
Our parsha introduces the perplexing paradox of the parah adumah. The Torah teaches us that there is a remedy for some forms of contracted impurity which require a ritual, central to which are the ashes of the red heifer. The perplexing part is that application of those ashes in a specific formula will remove impurity, yet the one who processes that mixture will contract impurity through contact with its ingredients. So, as our sages put it, 'it cleanses the impure ones and contaminates the pure ones.'
There is another puzzle in our parsha. Following the incident of the serpents in the desert, where many people were bitten and affected by lethal venom, Moshe is told to construct copper snakes and to raise them on a pole. (Anyone who has ever looked at the symbol used by Medical Associations will see an image of those snakes on a pole, which has come to represent in the minds of many the idea that mortals can heal). Those who were infected by the venom would look at those metal statues and be healed. Those who did not look up at them would die. Our sages hasten to point out that the healing was not emanating from the snakes, but rather, those who looked up at HaShem and turned their eyes to Him could be healed. Those who looked at their injuries as purely natural and failed to see a Divine hand in them, went the course of their illness and died.
Addressing these two matters, Ibn Shu'aib ponders. Whatever the mystery of the parah adumah is, granted that our sages say that it is beyond our comprehension, what are we to derive from the process at an inspirational level? Whatever the mystery of those "healing snakes" is, granted that our sages say that the healing had nothing to do with those actual snake statues, what are we to derive from the fact that the snake was chosen as the emblem for directing people's attention above?
So ibn Shu'aib observes that there is a relationship between the two topics. He begins with a review of how in Eden, the Snake represented temptation, and how temptation (yetzer ha'ra) has its place in the world: without it we do not create, we do not build, we do not initiate and we do not drive and motivate ourselves at many levels. We can also "give in" to those energies and drives and live a greedy, immoral, selfish and exploitative life. Yet, the reality is that the passion and temptation are given to us in order to redirect those energies - the procreative, the creative, the aggressive - in order to enhance humanity by living by HaShem's instructions. Can't live with it alone, but cannot live without it.
The paradoxical properties of the parah adumah teach us that in this life, everything can be utilized and reconstituted in the pursuit of purity. We can derive this from seeing how a contaminating source can actually be drawn on to generate purity. The concept of the snake figures is similar: it is absolutely true that it is HaShem, and not those snakes, Who brings about healing. Why are the snakes needed as an intermediate symbol?
The explanation here, says Ibn Shu'aib, is that we must look up to the Heavens and also look at our own "inner snakes": we can make the mistake of viewing our challenges and struggles as being beyond our control, as if they have a life of their own and are an external force; or better, we can accept that our internal struggles are meant to be understood and mastered. We are meant to fuel our holier and purer strivings with the energies of passion, whether in our thoughts, our emotions or our physical sensations. We do this by "partnering" our selves, our struggles and Shomayim.
The parah adumah process and the snake process are there to inspire us that we can turn ourselves around, we can grow through what we have inside, and that even those most vile and base elements of character can be reshuffled in the pursuit of living a better existence. Snakes alive! Good Shabbos from Jerusalem, where this parsha was read last week.
D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-35743059047016569272016-07-04T08:11:00.002-07:002016-07-04T08:11:54.113-07:00A Thought on Parshas Korach"...porach mateh Aharon..va'yotzaei perach v'yotzetz tzitz v'yigmol she'kaidim..."
"...Aharon's staff had blossomed, gave forth leaves, produced blossoms and ripened almonds..." (17:22)
Aharon was a holy figure and HaShem caused a miraculous sign to appear in order to signify his role of importance. The people saw that his staff began to blossom. What are the lessons to be learned from his staff?
ibn Shu'aib brings some midrashim which are unknown to us.
The blossoming is mentioned twice in the verse. One teaches us that the first blossom sprang forth, wilted and eventually withered away as it was replaced with an almond. This is what happens to tree blossoms. The second one teaches us that when Aharon's staff was later hidden away (as were other implements which had been the object of miracles in the desert), the staff, its blossom, and the subsequent almond remained intact and endured forever.
The next lesson is about the staff itself. An almond wood branch must be uprooted in order to be formed into a staff or walking stick. When that happens, its sap dries and the wood becomes stark and lifeless. It is clear that a miracle happened with Aharon's stick, since it continued to thrive and to produce blossoming fruit. This why Yirmiahu the prophet(1:11) was shown a vision of a blossoming almond branch. It symbolized the revival of the Jewish people, who would once again become fertile and productive. A hewn branch cannot do that, but Aharon's branch did exactly that, to herald that miracles can happen, and will happen to the Jewish nation.
A blossom is a perach in Hebrew. The blossoming of Aharon's staff was to signify that he was a holy person deserving of miracles, and this helped reinstate him in the public eye, following the challenges he and the kohanim faced during the Korach uprising. (The blossoms themselves may even hint at why Chazal refer to young kohanim as "pirchei Kahuna"!).
The reference to growing tzitz - leaves - alludes to how Aharon and the later kohanim gedolim wore a tzitz nezer ha'kodesh (Shmos 39:30) as they performed the Temple avoda. The word for almond, sha'ked, alludes to how the Leviim were designated by HaShem (the word can also mean to be devotedly diligent) and verified that the institutions of both Kahuna and Levi were HaShem's will, not a nepotistic choice of Aharon. Why does the verse place the blossom before the leaves, contrary to the botanical sequence? This is to reflect how the rank and file kohanim were already engaged in the avoda before the post of Kohen Gadol was inaugurated.
ibn Shu'aib's midrash continues: just as with regular almonds, the ones which blossomed on Aharon's staff included sweet ones and bitter ones. The sweet ones were on the right and the bitter on the left. When the Jewish people were fulfilling HaShem's will, the sweet almonds became moist. When we transgressed HaShem's will, the sweet ones withered and the bitter ones moistened. This echoed the miracle of the Keruvim, which changed formation and poise depending on the deeds of our nation. Another lesson of the sweet and bitter almonds was to portray how HaShem too is "Sho'ked" - is devoted at times to sweet rachamim and at times to bitter din. Lastly, when our verse says "va'yotzaei perach", it is a reference to the First Bais HaMikdash. When it says "va'yotzetz tzitz", it refers to the Second Mikdash. When it then says, "va'yigmol she'kaidim", it refers to the Third Temple which is awaiting us as long as we shok'dim - set on awaiting its arrival.
I am sending this early because I am leaving for Jerusalem. Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-17481205296624307152016-06-29T09:47:00.001-07:002016-06-29T09:47:11.073-07:00A Thought on Parshas Shlach
"...u're'isem oso u'zechartem es kol mitzvos HaShem..." (15:39)
"...and when you see it you'll remember all of HaShem's commandments..."
The status of tzitzis is enigmatic. At the physical level, they involve strings, strands, knots and fringes. At the thematic level, they involve reminding, cautioning and inspiring. They are tied into forms and quantities, and they are also "tied into" remembering the commandments, avoiding temptation, recalling our national origins, and knowing HaShem.
The commentaries seek symbolic meaning in these knotted threads, finding numeric allusions, and visual echoes of the sea, the sky and beyond. The tzitzis are unique to the Torah nation, and boys and men don them beneath, above, and upon their garments, including the Tallis which is worn during prayers.
ibn Shu'aib also takes notice of the tzitzis and seeks some meaning in them. Strings tied into knots, strings hanging beyond those knots, somehow reminding and cautioning us to avoid the straying of the eye and the fantasy.
ibn Shu'aib focuses on the strings which hang beneath the knots. What began as four strands now appears as eight strings. Below the final knot emerge four strings at one side and four at the second side. What do they represent or hint at?
ibn Shu'aib suggests that since the verse says that upon seeing them, we are meant to remember not to pursue the objects and subjects of our wayward fantasies, there must be a link between "eight" and our use of the self. Physically, he comments, we are given eight limbs with which we can either serve HaShem or we can self-indulge in profane ways. We have the eye, the ear, the nose, the mouth, the hand, the foot, the mind, and the organ of procreation. We can utilize these parts of our physical selves in ways which help us think of the heavens above. We can, however, opt to do the remote opposite as well. This is one thought to have when seeing the eight strings below the knots. Will we think above the strings at their higher connection, or will our lives dangle over the abyss?
With tzitzis on all four corners of the garment, there are four sets of eight strings. That totals 32. The number 32 is also representational of a higher truth. ibn Shu'aib teaches that there are 32 pathways to wisdom. These are the ten sefiros - the channels of Divine emanation of knowledge from the heavens down to the earth, and there are the twenty two letters of the aleph bais. With those sources, we have access to the wisdom of the Torah, both in its given, written form (alef bais), and in its more mystical hidden forms (ten sefiros). In fact, the Torah itself begins with the letter bais (equaling 2) and it ends with the letter lamed (equaling 30). Together of course they equal 32, which are the number of pathways mentioned. When our verse above proclaims, "and when you see the tzitzis you will remember all of the mitzvos of HaShem", that thought is then captured in the number and layout of the threads themselves. The 32 threads hint at the 32 ways to wisdom which are accessible through learning and practicing the Torah. Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-78102436821695310342016-06-22T16:46:00.000-07:002016-06-22T16:46:20.592-07:00A Thought on Parshas Beha'aloscha"...anav me'od..."
"...very humble..." (12:3)
ibn Shu'aib notes how the themes in this week's parsha events seem to reflect the wise saying of our Sages (Avos 4:28) on how jealousy, lust and arrogance can destroy a person. He shows how these characteristics were at play in the episode of the complainers, in the confrontation against the prophets, in the confrontations against Moshe Rabbeinu, and elsewhere. His motif is that when Chazal speak about how these things can "take a person out of the world", this does not always imply death but rather can mean the destruction of a person's mind and spirit. He argues that the antidote to those "qualities" is the development of a humble demeanor.
He brings a midrash which is from a source unknown to us: "They asked Eliahu: 'Who is sitting behind the highest heavenly partition?'. Eliahu answered: those who are modest and humble, as it says (Tehillim 37:11), "and the modest shall inherit the world."
ibn Shu'aib then cites the Talmud (Chulin 89a) which explains that HaShem admires His nation Israel when they do not aggrandize themselves even when they are graced with His bounty. Avraham downplays himself, declaring that he is but dust and ash. Moshe and Aharon downplay themselves, questioning their value. Dovid insists that he is lowly. In contrast, look at the other nations: Nimrod is given greatness and declares that he will build a city that reaches the heavens. Pharaoh asks, 'who is G-d?". Sancherib claims that even HaShem cannot stop him. Nevuchadnezar broadcasts that he is going to pay G-d a visit. Chiram proclaims that he occupies HaShem's throne. Greatness and grandeur are a challenge: will one maintain perspective and use them to become a better person, or will one exploit them to glorify the self?
What does exploitation of HaShem's gifts look like? ibn Shu'aib observes that jealous thoughts are a misuse of the mind. Lustfulness is a misuse of the body. Arrogance is a misuse of the emotions. The antidote is to use one's mind for constructive thought in the pursuit of knowing HaShem; using one's body to develop the health to serve Him; using one's emotions to promote wonder and inspiration in experiencing the perfection of His universe. A modest person knows his capacities, and channels his thoughts, senses and feelings towards the service of the Almighty. That is the self in modest perspective, and the humbling of self to maintain perspective of HaShem Above. Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-6342928871328898772016-06-16T16:01:00.001-07:002016-06-16T16:01:36.500-07:00A Thought on Parshas Naso
"...u'kasav...u'macha..."
"...and he writes...then dissolves..." (5:23)
From time to time we read a passage in the Torah which seems to present principles which appear to run contrary to other principles. The appearance of contradictory ideas is a challenge for us. It can become fertile ground for those who seek to fault find and flaw-find in the Divine Word chas v'shalom.
The parsha of the Sotah is probably a case in point. Throughout the Torah, so much emphasis in placed on the sanctity of HaShem's name. We must not desecrate it, we must not defile it and we certainly should not deface or erase it. Many verses throughout the Torah emphasize our charge to promote and to preserve kedusha.
The Sotah ritual or ordeal seems like an exception to this high standard. The Torah requires that a scribe write out verses that are then obliterated. There are many homiletic lessons which our Sages derive from this, yet the question remains: how are we to comprehend the seeming inconsistency between the standard of maintaining the sanctity of the Name and this glaring 'exception'?
ibn Shu'aib provides the insight that we have been waiting for.
We have first another difficulty to deal with: our tradition relates that at Sinai, when HaShem spoke the words of Torah - the first two of the "Ten Commandments" - the first and the second clauses were actually uttered as a single statement. We understood what was being said yet it was said as a compressed single utterance containing multiple messages, in a manner that the human ear does not readily comprehend. At an almost angelic level, transcendently, we heard the entire Torah within that single solitary tone. Forever after, in all subsequent moments in time, we could not have comprehended anything from that tone. We are only able to hear the commandments one at a time, just as we can only fathom one bit of information at a time. How so much information, so many details, so vast a sea of Torah, could be condensed into such a single audible sound is beyond the human brain's grasp, just as "seeing thunder and hearing lightening" is beyond our intellectual frame.
Nonetheless, everything did synthesize simultaneously into the Sound of Sinai, and we not only heard it, but we understood all of it at once in that one moment in history. This is alluded to in Tehillim 62:12 where we proclaim, "achas diber Elokim, shta'yim zu sho'mati - HaShem said one word yet I heard many."
What are we meant to learn from that celestial reality, manifest within our mind but once in the history of the universe? Says ibn Shu'aib: that one-time phenomenon was to teach us that there are no contradictions in HaShem's Torah. Everything coincides. From our perspective, there are plenty of inconsistencies which we experience as contradictions. From a mortal view, we cannot grasp the dichotomies which our logic exposes, yet in the mind's theology, our questions only reflect our limitations, rather than sully HaShem's limitlessness.
Thus, we look at the Name of HaShem which is written then obliterated. While defying what our limited logic would expect, we embrace the higher reality that when these rules were first spoken, our ears heard them all at once and every nuance fit in perfectly as a Divine whole. Good Shabbos. D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-39731895262290272552016-06-07T21:45:00.002-07:002016-06-07T21:45:11.103-07:00A Thought on Parshas Bamidbar
"...degel machaneh..."
"...each camp with its flag..." (2:3)
The counting, placing and "flagging" of the Benei Yisroel features prominently in our parsha. Beyond the function of some form of census keeping, what was the meaning behind this methodical, and picturesque, structuring of our camp into four groups, as we traveled through the wilderness and as we camped in formation, with flags?
ibn Shu'aib offers a midrashic perspective. These three steps - the accounting, the formation and the flagging - were to demonstrate the great affection shown to us by HaShem. The camp below mirrors the heavenly camp above. HaShem's "chariot", which we glimpsed in the writings of ibn Shu'aib on Parshas Emor,has four facets, which we have identified as the imprints of our three Patriarchs and that of Dovid HaMelech. But those four facets also have four spiritual presences ("Archangels"), namely, the malach Michael and his "flag", Gavriel and his flag, Refael and his, and Uriel and his.
We read in Shir HaShirim (2:4): Hevi'ani el bais ha'yayin v'diglo alay ahava - He brought me to the house of wine and His flag over me is love. The midrash explains: wine has the gematria of 70. The house of wine is Mt. Sinai, where HaShem led our nation to shelter us, with the giving of the Torah, from the seventy nations. He 'fed" us wine, which means that HaShem gave us our own nationhood status through our imbibing the words of Torah (see Shir HaShirimt 8:2, and 1:2). What is "the flag of love" which HaShem spread over us? This is how the firmaments, that which divides and blocks our perception of the Holy, were set aside so that we could see more clearly the worldly and cosmic manifestations of the Divine. This means that we could peer through the veils of human limitation and espy the "chambers of the Chariot."(see Shir HaShirim 1:4).
The chambers of the Chariot are the four Archangels and their flags. We were given a glimpse of the higher world and its hidden elements, and at that moment, our people longed to have a part of it all. HaShem declared there and then that we could in fact have a replica of that higher realm, here on earth. This became the four faceted formation of our camp, with its four flags.
This is alluded to in Tehillim (20:6) when Dovid HaMelech recalls our glorious songs of salvation in the desert which were followed by "u'v'Shem Elokeinu nidgol" - we raised our flag in HaShem's name, which means the assembly at Mt. Sinai where we were granted the heaven-like banners of the angels.
There are only 4 places in TaNaCh where the word degel is used as a verb or adverb rather than as a noun. One is the above verse in Tehillim, two are in Shir HaShriim 6:4 and 10, and one is in Shir HaShirim 5:10. The one in Tehillim we have mentioned. The ones in Shir HaShirim, a'yuma k'nigdalos (twice) and "dagul m'revava" translate as "fearsome as flagged ones" and "flagged by multitudes." ibn Shu'aib relates the midrashic perspective that at the end of our exile, the nations of the world will cower in the presence of our nation, as we become, once again, flagged by Divinity as are the angels above who carry out His word.
Good Shabbos and Chag Matan Torah Sameach. By the way, the day after Shavuos this year is, uh, Flag Day. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-26882557947196357162016-06-01T11:28:00.001-07:002016-06-01T11:28:41.217-07:00A Thought on Parshas Beh'aloshca"...im be'chukosai tei'lechu..."
"...if you follow My statutes..." (26:3)
The word "chok" has become familiar to us. A chok is one of those commandments about which we have no sense of its purpose or meaning. A "statute", as contrasted with a rule, or a regulation or a law (i.e. mishpat, din, mitzvah) is something that we are commanded to observe yet without an understanding or without having a ready interpretation as to its logic, sensibility or obvious function. In our parsha, HaShem tells us about all of the good which will follow our walking in the ways of His chukim. Some of our great commentaries look at this verse as a promise that if we are careful about keeping those statutes even though we do not understand them, we "deserve" a reward.
ibn Shu'aib has a different view. He looks not at the word itself, but rather the rewards which we are promised for following these chukim. He cites the holy words of our sages who see within those Biblical references to "rewards" an allusion to the world to come, to the afterlife, to the messianic era and to the rewards (and punishments) which are part of our theological belief system. So, the Torah asserts that for our obedience to HaShem's word, we will reap great rewards. Yet, when you stop and think about it, so many of the commandments seem to be rational. Many make sense to us. Many make sense to the world at large, and even had we not been ordered to observe them, many civilized people and societies would have observed them anyway. So, how is it that if we adhere to principles of common sense and justice that we will earn such vast rewards and wondrous consequences?
This, suggests ibn Shu'aib, is the "chok" quality of all 613 mitzvos. There is a statute-like quality of "hidden meaning" - not necessarily in the essence of the commandment - but rather in the gravity and magnitude of its importance in Heaven and on Earth. There are mystical and cosmic ramifications when we observe these commandments. The rest of the world cannot claim this, when they take a moral or common sense or societal harmony view of those acts which we are commanded to observe. For the world, there are rules and standards. For our nation, there are commandments, and they all have this chok aspect of earning eternal and cosmic repercussions. So our verse means that if we follow all of HaShem's rules, wondrous and supernatural compensation will follow, and this gives a chok quality to those rules, especially to those which would seem rational and obvious.
ibn Shu'aib closes Sefer VaYikra by expounding upon the well known verse (26:42) wherein HaShem promises that He will always recall His covenant with Yakov, with Yitzchak, with Avraham and with the land. He views this as a promise that even though our people may be exiled in far off lands, HaShem will redeem us just as He redeemed our ancestors in Egypt. He cites a midrashic reading of the prior parsha's hidden meaning: the Torah says "and when your brother declines" (25:25) - this alludes to our brothers ("brothers and friends" of Tehillim 122:8) who decline in their observance of Torah and mitzvos. "and he sells his inheritance" - this refers to our forfeiting the Temple in Jerusalem, which we "sold" to the nations whom we submitted to. " and someone redeems it" - this alludes to HaShem Himself who will come ultimately and redeem us.
ibn Shu'aib closes with the fervent prayer that HaShem will show us mercy and fulfill all of those promises, beginning with (26:44) "and even though they will be in the lands of the foes, I will not reject them." Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-29206243692922755792016-05-25T09:03:00.001-07:002016-05-25T09:03:14.028-07:00A Thought on Parshas Behar
"...Shabbos Shabason yi'yeh l'aretz Shabbos la'HaShem..."
"...a complete rest for the land, a Shabbos for HaShem..." (25:4)
In overly concise terms, Shmita and Yovel are about bitachon. They are about having faith and trusting that HaShem will care for us. He does. Shmita is Shabbos for HaShem.
ibn Shu'aib analyzes the concept of bitachon. He sees four facets of the experience, and the commandment, for a Jew to have secure trust and faith in HaShem.
1. We align our desires with all that HaShem wills for us. We shun those things which He forbids us. This way, whether or not we are worthy of His merciful intervention, we will at least be deserving of grace and kindness. This is what Dovid tells us (Tehillim 32:10) v'ha'botea'ach ba'HaShem chesed yesovev'enhu - the one who places his trust in HaShem will be surrounded by kindness.
2. We do not depend on intervention as inevitable or as automatic. This means that when we do not get what we yearn for, we don't complain that life is unfair. We instead accept that HaShem provides what we need, even if that seems not to coincide with what we want at that moment in time.
3. We recall and review past interventions, including miraculous ones throughout Jewish history. This strengthens our faith by making our comprehension and sense of faith more real. It is easier to trust in something that you believe in.
4. We give praise (birchas ha'gomel; seu'das hoda'ah) following Divine interventions. This demonstrates that we acknowledge that it was HaShem who delivered us, and it was not happenstance, chance, luck or our entitlement.
ibn Shu'aib teaches that the concept of observing the Shmita and the Yovel are to express our utter faith and trust in HaShem's caring and kindness. We neglect the land and we abandon its produce in order to assert that we trust and feel secure that HaShem will still provide for us and protect us. We align our will with His, and we reject what He abhors. We accept our lot and view it as Divinely dictated. We spend the seasons away from our farms immersed instead in serving HaShem through studying His Torah, reminding ourselves of His Presence throughout our history and our present lives. We continue to worship Him during those seasons. We devote our year to bitachon in HaShem in all four facets.
Now, why not just abandon all connections with mundane life and place all of our fate in His hands at all times? ibn Shu'aib says something powerful about this: in Divrei HaYamim 2:16:12 we read that King Asa was criticized for not seeking out HaShem when he sought out doctors during his illness. ibn Shu'aib comments that based on the words of that verse, we can infer that had he sought out the doctors yet also placed his trust in HaShem along with his trust in the skills of the doctors, he would not have been chastised. Using this as his thesis, ibn Shu'aib says that our efforts are generally an important part of our reality. During Shmita and Yovel, we put all our efforts into maximized faith. The rest of the time, we put efforts into our efforts, yet we make sure to include effortful faith in the process.
Lastly, ibn Shu'aib offers a novel perspective on the consequence of neglecting the mitzvos of Shmita and Yovel. We know that the loss of the land of Israel and the exile were a result of our people not observing those laws. The casual explanation or assumption is that we were punished for abusing the land, so it reclaimed its "rest" by our having to vacate it. ibn Shu'aib posits that the loss of the land was a consequence of our neglecting our internal mitzvah of developing and acting on our bitachon. Not having worked on our faith when effortful faith could have borne the fruits of peace, security and vivid protective intervention from Above led to our forfeiture of the possibility of having such constant revealed sense of His Presence. We instead had to subsist in exile, where we are constantly laboring to survive, and to arduously seek out His Presence.
Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-76190953899897691102016-05-18T05:28:00.001-07:002016-05-18T05:28:11.924-07:00A Thought on Parshas Emor"...emor el HaKohanim..."
"...tell the Kohanim..." (21:1)
Our parsha details the variables which distinguish the three major "classes" of Jewish people, namely, the Kohanim, the Leviim, and the Yisraelim. Different laws regulate and govern their responsibilities, their privileges, and even criteria regarding their appearance and their attire. They have specific standards for personal sanctity, purity and ritual service.
This week, ibn Shu'aib explores some deeper dimensions in understanding the Torah.
He begins with the familiar verses in Tehillim, "Bais Yisroel barchu es HaShem! Bais Aharon barchu es HaShem! Bais HaLevi barchu es HaShem! Yerai HaShem barchu es HaShem!" - Oh House of Israel, praise G-d; House of Aharon, House of Levi, G-d Fearing Ones, praise G-d!" (135:19-20).That psalm divides the Jewish people into four, not three, segments.
Strangely, elsewhere in Tehillim Dovid HaMelech uses three divisions. In Psalm 115:9-11, he proclaims, "Yisroel b'tach b'HaShem, Bais Aharon bitchu b'HaShem, Yerai HaShem bitchu b'HaShem" - Israel, House of Aharon, G-d Fearing Ones, trust in HaShem.
In 115:12-13, he sings, Yivarech es Bais Yisroel, yivarech es Bais Aharon, yivarech yerai HaShem - He will bless the House of Israel, the House of Aharon, the ones who fear Him.
In 118:2-4, Dovid exults, yomar na Yisroel, yomru na Bais Aharon, yomru na yerai HaShem - Let Israel say, let the House of Aharon say, let the ones who fear G-d say...
Who are the three? Who are the four? Why are there three, or four? What do they allude to?
ibn Shu'aib peers into Kabbalistic revelations now. He introduces the principle that "the Patriarchs themselves, they are the Chariot" (HaAvos hen hen haMerkava). The Kabbalistic concept here is that there is a spiritual entity known as the Chariot of HaShem. A chariot carries and contains an eminent passenger. At a mystical level, HaShem "rides" the heavens in a "chariot." As manifest on earth, His Presence is also "carried" by His chariot. In this mundane existence on earth, the chariot is actually the great ones, our lofty forefathers, who carry His Presence through their deeds, teachings and accomplishments.
Which of those forefathers became the primal chariot, the bearers of the Divine one earth? Our tradition has is that the right side of the Chariot was the mission of Avraham, who embodied G-d's kindness as a mortal life principle. Opposite this was Yitzchak, who embodied justice, which also heralded the presence of exiles and adversity for our people. At the binding of Yitzchak, the Akeida, the Divine justice became tempered so that on earth, our adversaries and captors would also be bound and limited by a just Divine decree, so that we could withstand persecution. This was a "spinning" of justice, so that justice ultimately prevailed on our people's behalf, rather than serving only as a punitive potential in binding us in front of our oppressors. Yakov, whose vision of a sulam showed the constant connectedness between this world and the higher realm, connects the powers of justice and kindness, to facilitate that merging or blending of chesed and din in our service of HaShem.
A three sided vehicle can certainly exist, and can function. Think of a tricycle or those motor vehicles once used by traffic officers. However, there is a reality about Yakov: he was born a twin. He also demonstrated throughout his life that he had the capacity to dwell in two tents, namely, he could function as a pure and holy person, yet as a robust and powerful person very much capable of thriving in the mundane. It is because of this duality of Yakov that the Chariot was really imbued with a fourth, if latent, facet. This is hinted at in the fact that Yakov's name is generally written with no vowel, only consonants, yet there is a hidden vowel (vav) when we pronounce those other letters, and in fact, there are five places where his name is written with that vav. The additional feature, the "twinning" of Yakov, adds a fourth side or facet to the Chariot.
This fourth facet is the role and mission eventually filled by Dovid HaMelech. Dovid HaMelech emerged as the completion of the Chariot, embodying some of Yakov's twin-ness (for example, like Esav, he was also ruddy, and at ease in the wilderness), and his role is to give voice to man's ascent, the potential to occupy and climb the spiritual ladder which is the domain of the malachim. Yakov modeled how man can bring Heaven closer to earth. Dovid models how man can bring himself closer to Heaven.
As a parallel to this revelation, ibn Shu'aib observes how the four-letter name of HaShem is made up of three letters. There is a yud and a vov, but there are two haes. The first hae depicts the infinite Higher Wisdom of the Divine. The last hae alludes to the manifestation of that Wisdom in the world below. So, HaShem's name is depicted as four-within-three letters. The Chariot is three-manifest-as-four powers.
Throughout Tehillim, Dovid depicts the role-missions of Jewish people as three discrete entities - Yisroel, Levi, Kohen. However, he also at times binds them in their ideal permutation, Yerai HaShem, which is a fourth entity.
ibn Shu'aib insists that whereas the three primary roles are fixed: one cannot opt in or opt out of being a Kohen, or a Levi, or a Yisroel; anyone of us can opt in to enter the fourth role, the Dovidesque role, of Yarei HaShem. When we take on that role, embodying and enacting the holy and the sacred in our mortal life, we complete the mission of the Merkava.
And, that's all, folks. That is everything. Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-1106313972992940042016-05-11T17:37:00.001-07:002016-05-11T17:37:08.976-07:00A Thought on Parshas Kedoshim"...lo sisna es achi'cha bil'vav'echa, ho'chai'ach tochiach..."
"...do not hate your fellow in your heart; reprove him..." (19:17)
Last week we learned ibn Shu'aib's thesis that the "klal gadol" of "love your neighbor" is its unifying status in linking many related mitzvos. ibn Shu'aib shows how many mitzvos which govern interpersonal conduct are "pratim", facets, of the broader principle of caring about others and their possessions.
This week, he examines the related mitzva cited above, which he views as a "prat" of the "klal gadol." He sees the initial clause, not hating, as an admonition that Jews must not generate sinas chinam - baseless hatred. This is the meaning of "do not hate your fellow."
He then draws attention to the entire verse, which focuses on "not hating in the heart." What is added by commanding us not only to avoid hate, but to avoid hate in the heart? What is added when the verse next directs us to "reprove the one whom we hate", then ends by instructing us "not to bear a sin" because of someone? These appear to be three distinct pratim, and the entire gestalt of this verse needs clarification.
ibn Shu'aib offers this approach to the verse's three facets:
If you are told something negative about another person, do not keep your reactive hatred within yourself. Do not conceal it. We cannot hide intense feelings, such as hatred, within our hearts because, he writes, as the saying goes "hearts are like mirrors." Shlomo HaMelech writes in Mishlei (27:19) "as water reflects a face back to a face, so does the heart reflect back to the heart." If you hate someone deeply within, the object of your hatred, the person whom you detest, will pick up a reflection of your feelings for him. So, you simply are not able keep it in. The Torah says, "don't even try to keep your hatred concealed." You will fail. He cites a midrash (Sifrei Devarim 1:27) which declares, "whatever is in your heart for another is what he will form in his heart about you."
So what must we do when we hate? As ibn Shu'aib taught us last week, it is not natural to tell people that they cannot hate. It happens. Sometimes we do feel hatred for someone, such as when we have learned about their wrongdoings. This is why the next clause says, "reprove him." ibn Shu'aib explains that if something bothers you about someone, tell him. If he has done something very wrong, confront him. Clear the air. Tell him what you feel about him and then try to work it out. This is what it means to "reprove him."
The final clause, "do not bear a sin" refers to the problem of keeping the hatred in: if you fail to talk it through with the other person, you are transgressing the sin of holding hatred within your heart. So, the verse means: "Do not keep your hatred in your heart. Confront the person. Otherwise, you are holding on to the hatred within and bearing a sin of your own."
Good Shabbos. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-65653927141311716942016-05-03T22:32:00.000-07:002016-05-03T22:32:08.682-07:00A Thought on Parshas Acharei"...v'ahavta l'rei'acha kamocha..."
"...and love your fellow like yourself..." (19:11)
ibn Shu'aib addresses the two parshios of Acharei-Kedoshim as a pair, with common themes. The verse I will focus on this week, although technically from Kedoshim, which we read next week, in that this year the parshios are separated, is very much an important one.
The world's 'Golden Rule', which is Rabbi Akiva's "klal gadol", is "love your fellow as yourself." ibn Shu'aib's position on that literal translation is "This is impossible. Its unnatural." Firstly, he argues, each of us values our own life above others' lives, as a general premise. Worded differently, although there are those who would risk life and limb to protect those whom they love, most of us are not able to dismiss our own needs for the sake of "our fellow." It goes against our nature to demand that we must love all others just as we love ourselves. In the Book of Iyov (Job) we read (2:4) "Skin for the sake of skin! Whatever a man has he would give up for his life!" ibn Shu'aib interprets that verse, as do Rashi and ibn Ezra, that some people would even give up their own children to save their own lives r'l. We clearly cannot interpret our "golden rule" as demanding that we love others the way we love ourselves. Its not natural.
Secondly, ibn Shu'aib observes, Rabbi Akiva himself does not endorse such extreme self-deprioritization. In fact, he rules against one making such sacrifices on Halachic grounds: Rabbi Akiva is of the opinion that if two people are dying of thirst and only one of them has water, the one with the water must drink it. "Chayecha kodmin" - your life comes first (Bava Metzia 62a).
So ibn Shu'aib contends that we must translate the verse differently. The words "le'reiacha kamocha" include the letter lamed, rather than the prefix word es.This would mean "love that which is your fellow's." Treat him and his possessions with the same level of care which you would provide yourself. This is why Hillel (Shabbos 31a) explained that the Torah hinges on the principle of "what you object to you must refrain from doing to others." Its not really about love as a feeling, but love as a behavioral orientation and attitude.
ibn Shu'aib adds that even if someone else harms you or your property, the Torah demands that we not take revenge. Why is this? We would not tolerate someone harming us in the spirit of revenge, so "loving that which is your fellow's" precludes us taking revenge on them. The sin of nekama is a prat - an exponent - of the klal gadol of v'ahavta l'rei'acha.
ibn Shu'aib closes with an analogy given by the Talmud Yerushalmi (Nedarim 9:4): If a person hurts himself with his own hand, he would never cut off his hand. If a person pokes himself in the eye with his finger, he would not punish his finger. Therefore, when a Jew hurts another, we do not hit back. Whatever we wish for ourselves, we aim for in our dealings with others.
Good Shabbos. D Fox
Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-21436604896946719522016-04-12T22:35:00.001-07:002016-04-12T22:35:51.031-07:00A Thought on Parshas Metzora"...v'nosati nega tzaras b'bais eretz achu'zas'chem..." (14:34)
"...and I will place a severe affliction on the house of your land of possession..."
Our parsha brings to a close the multitude of Torah verses which have addressed impurity and afflictions on people, on property and in our possessions. ibn Shu'aib tells us that he too is going to close this section, with a different midrashic approach used by our Sages.
Word by word and clause by clause, he interprets the above passage, fortifying each insight with support from verses elsewhere in TaNaCh. It is worth seeing his writing inside, but I will paraphrase him here without including his support verses. After all, as he writes, he is merely presenting the words of our Sages...
When our verse(s) above says "the house", this alludes to the Holy House, the Temple known as the Bais HaMidkash. When the Torah says "the one who owns the house", this alludes to HaShem Himself. The clause "and he shall tell the Kohen" (about the affliction on his house), refers to the prophet Yirmiahu (who was a Kohen), who forecast and later lamented the churban, the destruction (affliction) of the Bais HaMikdash.
When the verse then says "an affliction has appeared in my house", this refers to the pagan idol placed by King Menashe. When the verse next says, "and the Kohen shall instruct them to empty the afflicted house", this was the attempt to rid the Temple of that impurity. When the verse then says, "then the Kohen shall instruct them to demolish the house", this was Yirmiahu's prophecy materializing as the Temple was actually destroyed.
The Torah then says, "and they shall take other stones", which alludes to the building of the Second Bais HaMikdash. The verse stating, "and if the affliction returns and spreads over the house", is a reference to the baseless hatred which arose and spread during the time of the Second Temple. When the verse then cries, "it is a malignant affliction", this alludes to the damage done by the hypocrisy of that behavioral desecration during a sanctified era.
"Demolish the house" means the Second Temple will be utterly destroyed. The verse which says, "and if the Kohen will then come", refers to the forthcoming building of the Third Bais HaMikdash. The Kohen of that verse hints to Eliahu HaNavi. The verse, "for the affliction will be purified" refers to that time, when the Temple is rebuilt, when our internal straying will also be healed, and the clauses "the house will be cleansed, cleared, purified" foretell the restoration of the sacrificial rite, which will bring atonement and cleansing.
Ibn Shu'aib prays for us all, asking that it be the will of HaShem to rebuild our people, and to restore to us our higher sense of sanctity, so that we will once again sense the Presence.
Good Shabbos and good Yom Tov ha'ba aleinu v'al kol Yisroel l'tova. D FoxRabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25545985.post-43207619463006847622016-04-06T05:22:00.002-07:002016-04-06T05:22:19.665-07:00A Thought on Parshas Tazria
"...isha ki tazria..."
"...when a woman conceives..." (12:2)
This week, ibn Shu'aib focuses in large part on the more mystical facets of the parsha. He is most interested in understanding the miracle of conception, and the laws which are associated with this phase of human development. I will introduce one of his thoughts, with the proviso that it is one which must be understood from a spiritual view, for it might run contrary to some people's sensitivities these days.
He begins with his platform that there is a spiritual hierarchy among human beings. This is shaped, in part, by the ways with which they can serve HaShem. So, for example, the gentile world has been given certain commandments. Avadim - those who are subordinate to Jewish masters - are responsible to observe additional commandments. Jewish women have many commandments. Jewish men are given many more. Each person has a neshama - a soul - but the role which each one's spiritual self plays will determine his or her subjective level of holiness. The more mitzvos one is bound to keep, the greater their potential holiness. This is one reason that we recite the blessings in the morning which thank G-d 'who did not form me as a nachri, as an eved, as an isha'. A Jewish man thanks HaShem for giving him the potential to ascend the hierarchy of holiness. ibn Shu'aib writes that there is no blessing proclaiming "sh'lo asani beheima" - who did not form me as an animal - because an animal has no neshama and isn't on that spiritual hierarchy at all.
Now, he explores the biology of conception. We will not discuss that here, but suffice to say that his premises, based in the Talmud, have been supported by science. He looks at some of the internal sequence which determines, in part, the gender of the embryo. He discusses the events which eventuate in that child being born a female, and how the Torah decrees a longer interval of tuma'a, impurity, when a daughter is born (14 days) than when a son is born (7 days).
He reasons that since the birth of a girl means that, from the standpoint of mitzvos which can be performed by her, she will enact a diminution in holiness relative to a male, her existence symbolizes a potential distancing of the Divine Presence, relative to that which could eventuate were the child to grow into a man, where the relatively greater kedusha he could achieve would bring the Shechina closer. Thus, the mother remains impure for 14 days, twice as long as she would be after delivering a son. The longer wait reflects the prolonged waiting for the Shechina to draw close, a product of the fewer mitzvos which the daughter can enact.
In turn, with double the waiting interval before she can re-purify, she is also distanced from her husband double the time. This also symbolizes this "decreased potential to bring holiness" - when a married couple are united, they bring, ideally, the Shechina into their midst. When they are apart, this means that the Shechina seems distant. Thus, there is a paralleling of the husband-wife experience and the humanity-Divine Presence experience.
Finally, ibn Shu'aib ponders the other difference between a woman's days of impurity for a son as compared to a daughter. Following her purification after one week for a son, she has 33 days of "purity from blood." However, following her purification after two weeks for a daughter, she is given 66 days - double the amount - of "purity from blood." What is the meaning of this paradoxical reversal of her status? How is it that she has twice as long an interval of relative respite from impurity after delivering a girl?
ibn Shu'aib proposes that when a person accepts the Divine rule, despite its hardship and demands, this is a form of "teshuva" - of aligning themselves with the Heavenly Will. So, for a woman to shoulder the doubled stress of initial impurity, she earns double the "reward", since Midas Rachamim - the standard of mercy - has double the bounty of Midas HaDin - the standard of justice. She has earned a double share of "merciful reward" for having endured the earlier set back of longer impurity.
Good Shabbos and Rosh Chodesh Tov. D Fox Rabbi Dr. Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16639823456881323431noreply@blogger.com0