Chag HaShavuot
Megillat Ruth and the Shoftim Period
The reading of the Book of Ruth is one of the beautiful customs of Chag Hashavuot. It is a picturesque and emotive story, and each year we are swept up, yet again, in the familiar yet exciting drama. We tensely follow the destitute Naomi and Ruth as they walk through along the roads of Moav, through the harsh landscape deeply concerned for their fate. We watch excitedly as Ruth picks the gleanings from the field, hoping that someone will ensure that she brings home enough food at the day's end. We share the anticipation as we wonder whether Ruth will indeed marry Boaz and be able to set up a happy Jewish family, bringing the tragedy of the past to a brighter future, and indeed this is a story with a happy end.
However, I am not sure whether we realise quite how unusual and revolutionary the book of Ruth is. I think that if we examine this story in the light of its historical backdrop – the period of the Shoftim – and the book that parallels it – Sefer Shoftim – we shall understand how the message of Megillat Ruth is surprising and novel.
Megillat Ruth begins with the phrase: "And it came to pass, in the days of the Judges." Chazal suggest[1] that the both the Book of Judges AND the Book of Ruth were authored by the same individual – the prophet Shmuel. Two books describe the same period. And yet, I would suggest that the books differ radically.
THE SHOFTIM PERIOD.
The period of the Judges lasted for over three hundred years. This period was a very difficult one for the young Israelite nation. Throughout these years the country was repeatedly overrun by alien oppressors, neighbouring states looking to expand their borders and to take advantage of the weakness of the Israelite nation. But these were not bad times simply from a military or national perspective. We can delineate at least four areas in which the Shoftim period was a disaster.
1.The fragile national security situation
As we have mentioned, the book of Judges talks about an entire collection of adversaries: Assyria, Moab, the Canaanite king Yavin, Midyan, Amalek, Ammon, the Philistines. The enemy intruders destroy the crops and commerce of the country, oppress and tax, and generally squeeze the Israelites to a situation in which normal life was unbearable. This phenomena occurs nationally throughout the country; there is no region which does not suffer, at one time or another from the national weakness. When one enemy subsides, another arises.
2. The nature of the Judge-leader
Despite the existence of certain Judge-leaders, the primary characteristic of the time is the absence of a coherent NATIONAL leadership structure.
The "Judges" as they are known, were ad-hoc leaders, individuals who rose to greatness by responding to the need of the moment. Invariably, the leader for any particular crisis situation emerged from the tribe which found itself at the epicentre of the problem or crisis. All of the "judges" are connected to military success. They always fight in the name of the God of Israel. But they are very much the transient heroes of the moment. In the same way that they rise to leadership and fame out of nothing, they fade rapidly into oblivion as a leading force in their tribe, or the nation as a whole. After their passing, they leave no successor and no continued leadership structure.
It is not too difficult to realise that the problems of national security would not have been nearly as acute had there been a leader with a national agenda and vision. A national leader can have a standing army that will act as deterrent to potential invaders. A figurehead gives the nation a focus, an identity. Central government can plan, can coordinate the resources and actions of a state on a macro level. Maybe a useful way to demonstrate the difference between the power of a Judge and a national leader is to note that in the wars that the Judges fought, the army never exceeded 40,000 fighting men. In contrast, King Saul, the first national leader manages to summon 330,000 soldiers in his first campaign (I Samuel 11:8.)
3. Low Spiritual Level
This period is characterised by a powerful attraction to foreign deities. The most popular gods would have been the Ba'al and the Ashtoret, the gods of Canaan, but others were served as well. In the Tanach, it is this turning away from the God of Israel, their "straying" after pagan culture, which angers God leading Him to remind them of His presence by subjecting them to oppression and national failure.
4. Inter-tribal friction
The nation does not see itself as a single cohesive unit in the period of the Judges. Frequently, tribes of Israel would simply fail to come to the assistance of their beleaguered brethren. Sometimes there are outbursts of inter-tribal violence, or civil-war
The problems of this era, as we can see, were enormous, complex, and not easily solved.
THE PERSPECTIVE FROM SEFER SHOFTIM
On the one hand, Sefer Shoftim blames the ills of the era upon the sin of Avoda Zara – Idolatry. It describes a recurring cycle of events, as follows:
1. Israel sin, serving other gods, local deities like Ba'al and Ashtarot.
2. God delivers them to their enemies.
3. They cry out (moan -v.18) to God
4. He appoints a leader to save them and keep their allegiance to God.
5. The leader dies and they return to stage 1.
In other words, God punishes the people for abandoning His service. The lack of national security is a direct outgrowth of the lack of religious commitment of the nation.
But, on the other hand, Sefer Shoftim is also aware of another cause:
"In those days there was no king in Israel and every man did as he pleased." (Judges 17:6, 18:1, 19:1, 21:25.)
In other words, there is a political cause and also a religious explanation for the abysmal state of the nation. Looking at Sefer Shoftim, one realizes that the solution lies in transforming both of these areas.
THE BOOK OF RUTH
Megillat Ruth describes the same reality but from a very different vantage point. Chazal suggest that Elimelech left the country due to the hardships faced during this period[2]. People abandon a country in times of famine and violence. Apparently this family had the means to live abroad and to survive there deciding to become refugees rather than face the frequent invasions and foreign occupation in Eretz Yisrael.
Megilat Ruth is the civilian side of the conflict, in which families become refugees, people are unwilling to assist their families because they are frightened for their own future. It is a time when Jewish life is far from certain or secure. Rather than taking the national vantage point, a grand sweeping vision of things, Megillat Ruth tells a personal story, a story of a single family that has to survive the torment that is swirling around them.
As we know, the move abroad did the family no good. Elimelech and his sons all die. And now Naomi is left alone and penniless. (Chazal once again attribute this to their leaving Eretz Yisrael)
But how is the problem solved? Through kindness and charity!
· Ruth's kindness to Naomi (2:1).
· Boaz's consideration of Ruth (2:19,21).
· Ruth's devotion to Boaz (3:10).
· Boaz's commitment to Elimelech (4:14, 9).
· Ruth's fulfillment of her commitment to her dead husband (4:10).
The way in which one reaches redemption in the story of Ruth is through Chessed, living up to life's responsibilities, caring for those around us, thinking beyond ourselves.
It is quite remarkable that Shmuel wrote two books about the period. In the first, he suggests that the nation will be saved through a religious transformation and through an organized central government. In this regard Shmuel acts as a true statesman, attempting to guide the course of national events.
But in his second book, he suggests a radically different direction, suggesting that through small but heroic acts of kindness, one may change a world, one may induce redemption. Moreover, one may lead the way to the birth of King David himself! Just through simple but heartfelt acts of Kindness and responsibility! Public policy is the arena of the nation, and yet, here we see actions on the personal and familial scale.
In this book, the verb "GA'AL" - meaning "Redemption" – appears 24 times! That is quite a high frequency for a short book. Ruth is a book of Redemption, and Redemption is the small kindnesses that people perform for one another.
IN CONCLUSION
Shavuot is strongly centred upon the Bein Adam Lamakom dimension of things. After all, it is on this "zman matan torateinu" that we celebrate the eternal covenant enacted at Mt. Sinai. At that historic moment in time we agreed to be a "Kingdom of priests and a holy nation" and God responded with revelation and Torah. When Chazal describe the Maamad Har Sinai (the assembly and revelation at Sinai) as a wedding, they encapsulate the essence of things. It is not the particular Torah that we received on this day that is our focus. Rather, on this day we mark the fact that we as a nation became eternally tied to the Almighty by means of Torah.
And so, our Torah reading discusses the account of the Revelation at Sinai. The Haftara discusses the Revelation of Yechezkel in which the prophet Yechezkel was given a revelation of God's "Merkava" witnessing the angels, fire and sounds that surround God's presence. This day then, is about God's revelation.
Against this backdrop, Megillat Ruth comes as something of a surprise. Ruth is not a story of revelation. It is a very human story with deep human yearnings, fear, insecurities, and kindness, consideration and responsibility. It is a Bein Adam Lechavero story. Once again; where is the thunder and lightening and angels and fear? How does Ruth fit into the landscape of Shavuot[3]?
And hence, might we suggest a very radical message for Megillat Ruth? That Judaism does not begin with impressive spectacles of Revelation, but in the small, sensitive acts of kindness that we can all do for each other.
That is how we can bring God into our society; that is how we bring redemption!
Chag Sameach!
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[1] Bava Batra 14b – "שמואל כתב ספרו ושופטים ורות"
[2] רש"י רות פרק אRashi on Ruth 1:2 based upon Baba Batra 91b.
וילך איש - עשיר גדול היה ופרנס הדור ויצא מארץ ישראל לחוצה לארץ מפני צרות העין שהיתה עינו צרה בעניי' הבאים לדוחקו לכך נענש:
Chazal talk about him as a wealthy man in his early period in Yehuda. Maybe we can surmise this by the fact that people immediately recognize Naomi (1:19) but are shocked by her withered appearance. Moreover, it is clear that Elimelech left certain properties (4:3) that needed "Redemption" and hence we can suggest that he was a man of at least moderate wealth.
[3] It could be that Megillat Ruth is the MOST APPRPRIATE dimension of Shavuot! After all the Torah never specifies that Matan Torah happened on 6th Sivan. But it is EXPLICIT in Vayikra ch.23 that Shavuot is a time for caring for the poor. There is states:
"And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap all the way to the edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor and the stranger: I am the Lord your God" (23:22)
If there is ONE THING that we know about Chag Hashavuot, it is this description. When the Torah directs our attention to the Shavuot, it is focussed upon the harvest. And in thinking about the harvest, the Torah wishes to ensure that we are fully aware of the laws that apply at harvest time, laws that have the poor and disadvantaged at the forefront of their attention.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Parshat Bamidbar: Joy and Fear.
Our parsha describes the encampment of B’nei Yisrael in the wilderness. Not a detail goes by unaccounted for: the number of fighting men and the layout of the camp, tribe by tribe; the Levites, their roles and encampment. By the end of our parsha we have received a detailed blueprint of the plans for the Israelite settlement in the desert.
At the centre, of course, stands the jewel in the crown - The tent of meeting, the Mishkan - home to the holy ark , where God talks to Moshe. A focal point of holiness, spirituality and Torah.
When the Torah instructs us as to the central positioning of the Mishkan, it uses a rather unusual and enigmatic phrase [2:2];
“ The Israelites shall encamp, each man by his tribal flag, by their ancestral insignia, they shall encamp; opposite, around (mi’neged saviv) the mishkan”
The relationship between the camp and the tabernacle is described by two Hebrew words: mi’neged - usually translated as opposite or opposed to, and saviv - which generally translates as surrounding, encircling.
On closer examination we realise that these two phrases indicate dramatically different, contrasting, orientations vis a vis the Mishkan.
The word mi’neged; opposite, indicates a pulling away, a clash, a repulsion. Being mi’neged indicates opposition, friction, tension. A distancing force.
The word Saviv, however, means; surrounding, encircling, gathering round. If we still remember our High School Physics and the laws of motion, we will remember that in a circular motion the pull is always to the centre. Saviv means an inwards magnetic pull, a centripetal force which attracts one to the centre of the circle.
If we apply this to the Mishkan, at the centre of the circle we might say that saviv tells us one story and mineged tells a us another. Mineged - that for some inexplicable reason, the Jewish nation might feel a desire to distance themselves from their spiritual nexus. They stand opposite, keeping their distance; at variance with the M
Mishkan. On the other hand, the word saviv describes a more positive orientation. This word indicates an attraction, a desire for closeness towards the Mishkan which draws Am Yisrael inwards to the epicentre of spiritual life, to Torah and to God.
But why this dual relationship? How do we reconcile these opposing phrases? Why should we feel distanced from our holy Mishkan? and how should we decide between the two options ... is our relationship to the Mishkan one of attraction or one of repulsion?
Maybe we might suggest that this description is indeed representative of the dialectical reality that animates us as individuals and indeed, as a nation too. What is true about religion in general is described by the Torah when it tells us about the Mishkan.
On the one hand we have a strong desire to draw near to God and religion. We feel attracted to it and it gives us meaning. We desire to envelope and totally immerse ourselves in the holiness of God and in the way of life that He has given to us. We want to be better Jews, to keep Shabbat more punctiliously, to dive into our Judaism head first with all the enthusiasm that we can muster.
And yet, despite this positive pull and in direct contrast to it, there are times when we feel a need to escape, to break “the yoke of the kingdom of heaven”. There are times when Judaism seems too much, too restrictive. We need our space, our freedom.
There are times that Judaism enchants and attracts us, when it seems like the potion of life. That is the saviv relationship drawing us inwards. At other times when we experience a need to flee from religion; when Judaism feels like a crushing load of 613 mitzvot controlling our every action, our every move. A neged relationship.
This dialectic goes back to the very origin of our religion. We are about to celebrate Shavuot. At Mount Sinai, the people demanded that God Himself speak to them rather than Moses. They desired the closeness to God that religion may offer. God even commanded that a restrictive fence be built to prevent the surging masses from breaking through to reach God, invading the mountain in their spiritual fervour. And yet, the Torah also records how the people reacted with fear to the intensity of the Divine presence by fleeing, running away from the intensity . “let not God speak to us lest we die”.
Apparently this oscillating dialectic of attraction and repulsion, religious enthusiasm and hesitancy, are part and parcel of the existential religious experience of every Jew.
Our hope as we approach the Chag of Matan Torah is that our enthusiasm may prevail and that we can truly experience the words of the Torah, “vesamachta lifnei Hashem Elokecha” ... “and you shall rejoice before Hashem your God”
At the centre, of course, stands the jewel in the crown - The tent of meeting, the Mishkan - home to the holy ark , where God talks to Moshe. A focal point of holiness, spirituality and Torah.
When the Torah instructs us as to the central positioning of the Mishkan, it uses a rather unusual and enigmatic phrase [2:2];
“ The Israelites shall encamp, each man by his tribal flag, by their ancestral insignia, they shall encamp; opposite, around (mi’neged saviv) the mishkan”
The relationship between the camp and the tabernacle is described by two Hebrew words: mi’neged - usually translated as opposite or opposed to, and saviv - which generally translates as surrounding, encircling.
On closer examination we realise that these two phrases indicate dramatically different, contrasting, orientations vis a vis the Mishkan.
The word mi’neged; opposite, indicates a pulling away, a clash, a repulsion. Being mi’neged indicates opposition, friction, tension. A distancing force.
The word Saviv, however, means; surrounding, encircling, gathering round. If we still remember our High School Physics and the laws of motion, we will remember that in a circular motion the pull is always to the centre. Saviv means an inwards magnetic pull, a centripetal force which attracts one to the centre of the circle.
If we apply this to the Mishkan, at the centre of the circle we might say that saviv tells us one story and mineged tells a us another. Mineged - that for some inexplicable reason, the Jewish nation might feel a desire to distance themselves from their spiritual nexus. They stand opposite, keeping their distance; at variance with the M
Mishkan. On the other hand, the word saviv describes a more positive orientation. This word indicates an attraction, a desire for closeness towards the Mishkan which draws Am Yisrael inwards to the epicentre of spiritual life, to Torah and to God.
But why this dual relationship? How do we reconcile these opposing phrases? Why should we feel distanced from our holy Mishkan? and how should we decide between the two options ... is our relationship to the Mishkan one of attraction or one of repulsion?
Maybe we might suggest that this description is indeed representative of the dialectical reality that animates us as individuals and indeed, as a nation too. What is true about religion in general is described by the Torah when it tells us about the Mishkan.
On the one hand we have a strong desire to draw near to God and religion. We feel attracted to it and it gives us meaning. We desire to envelope and totally immerse ourselves in the holiness of God and in the way of life that He has given to us. We want to be better Jews, to keep Shabbat more punctiliously, to dive into our Judaism head first with all the enthusiasm that we can muster.
And yet, despite this positive pull and in direct contrast to it, there are times when we feel a need to escape, to break “the yoke of the kingdom of heaven”. There are times when Judaism seems too much, too restrictive. We need our space, our freedom.
There are times that Judaism enchants and attracts us, when it seems like the potion of life. That is the saviv relationship drawing us inwards. At other times when we experience a need to flee from religion; when Judaism feels like a crushing load of 613 mitzvot controlling our every action, our every move. A neged relationship.
This dialectic goes back to the very origin of our religion. We are about to celebrate Shavuot. At Mount Sinai, the people demanded that God Himself speak to them rather than Moses. They desired the closeness to God that religion may offer. God even commanded that a restrictive fence be built to prevent the surging masses from breaking through to reach God, invading the mountain in their spiritual fervour. And yet, the Torah also records how the people reacted with fear to the intensity of the Divine presence by fleeing, running away from the intensity . “let not God speak to us lest we die”.
Apparently this oscillating dialectic of attraction and repulsion, religious enthusiasm and hesitancy, are part and parcel of the existential religious experience of every Jew.
Our hope as we approach the Chag of Matan Torah is that our enthusiasm may prevail and that we can truly experience the words of the Torah, “vesamachta lifnei Hashem Elokecha” ... “and you shall rejoice before Hashem your God”
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Noah's Ark and Greenpeace
This is quite an amusing publicity stunt.
Mount Ararat, Turkey:
Horses carry wood for the construction of a new Noah's ark, planned by Greenpeace as a means of warning world leaders and pushing them to act to counter global warming.
(Funny what it takes for people to turn to the Bible!)Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Make Yom Yerushalayim a National Holiday!
We didn't really need an offical poll to tell us that Yom Yerushalayim goes by unmarked by the majority of Israelis. Ynet published this poll:
Some 65 percent of Israeli Jews do not celebrate Jerusalem Day, which marks the city’s reunification 40 years ago, while 35 percent celebrate the event, a poll conducted by Ynet and the Gesher organization revealed.
The poll was carried out among 500 respondents who constitute a representative sample of the adult Jewish Hebrew-speaking population in Israel.
According to the poll, most religious Zionists (67 percent) celebrate Jerusalem Day, compared to only 23 percent of non-religious Israelis, 24 percent of haredim and 63 percent of observant Jews.
Yes ... it is only the masorti (sephardi traditional) community and the dati-leumi (kippas seruga) community who mark this day. The crowd in the streets of Jerusalem bears this out. The Charedim have ambivalent attitudes to creating new festive days, and also to acts performed by the secular Medinat Yisrael. The secular public... certainly the younger generation, are very distant from Jewish heritage and feel alienated from the reality of Jerusalem. How many times have I heard of chilonim's fear, yes fear (!) of Jerusalem, perceiving it as being filled with Arabs and Haredim, a place in which they are likely to be stoned. The intifada didn't help in that regard. For the years 2000-2005, most secular schools didn't even send their students on class trips to Jerusalem!
In the lead-up to this 40th year celebration of Yom Yerushalyim, watching TV and reading the papers. We have the usual bandwagon of left-wingers who sound so down on themselves as they bemoan Jerusalem, as a place in which arabs are oppressed, or simply a backwards provincial place, or a crucible of extremism, and so forth. The TV certainly doesn't sound like it is gearing up for a party!
Now, I am all for open discussion, self-criticism and free debate. But there is also a time simply for celebration! (Why do we Jews have such difficulty just celebrating. Do we always have to examine and pick everthing apart?) The simple fact is this: Jews yearned to return to Jeruslaem for 1900 years. Today, 40 years ago, the kotel and the Old city (never mind Hevron and Ma'arat Hamachpela, Shilo, Kever Rachel in Bethlehem, Bet El) all came under Jewish sovereignty. Is that not a reason to be happy? Yes I know the politics and demographics of Jerusalem are complicated! But everything is complicated. There is a time to celebrate and a time to solve problems! Today, we should be happy!
40 years ago, the nation understood that the return to the Kotel was cause for rejoicing. Today, certain sectors fail to see this. Many people are simply disconnected from Jerusalem!
And there are political ramifications too. It would appear that regarding the Kotel there is wide consensus. (This week we heard that 96% of the Jewish Israeli public will not relinquish the kotel even for a Peace deal... see the entire poll - it is very interesting.) However, beyond the kotel, if we do not wish to see Har Habayit given to a future Palestinian State, if we wish to see Jerusalem as united in the future, then we must work (and fight the forces of the extreme Left) to boost the connection of ALL Israelis with Yerushalayim.
The answer is education. Wars can be won by armies, but the real battle is for the MEMORY of historical events. We need to help people see why Jerusalem is special and what it represents to the Jews and to the world! What is the best way to send a message that this is a historic day of incredible Jewish and Zionistic significance? - Make Yom Yerushalayim a public holiday. Then kids will have to learn about it in school. Then it will be in everyone's calendar. Then the collective memory will be forced to absorb this day as a celebration. And when the entire country gets a day off, the mood is good, and Jerusalem Day automatically becomes a happy day. The calendar is a very powerful thing. It indicates what is important. A public holiday for Jerusalem Day would send a message , loud and clear, that a Jewish Jerusalem is a momentous thing.
Make Yom Yerushalayim a Public Holiday and the pieces will fall into place! You'll see.
Some 65 percent of Israeli Jews do not celebrate Jerusalem Day, which marks the city’s reunification 40 years ago, while 35 percent celebrate the event, a poll conducted by Ynet and the Gesher organization revealed.
The poll was carried out among 500 respondents who constitute a representative sample of the adult Jewish Hebrew-speaking population in Israel.
According to the poll, most religious Zionists (67 percent) celebrate Jerusalem Day, compared to only 23 percent of non-religious Israelis, 24 percent of haredim and 63 percent of observant Jews.
Yes ... it is only the masorti (sephardi traditional) community and the dati-leumi (kippas seruga) community who mark this day. The crowd in the streets of Jerusalem bears this out. The Charedim have ambivalent attitudes to creating new festive days, and also to acts performed by the secular Medinat Yisrael. The secular public... certainly the younger generation, are very distant from Jewish heritage and feel alienated from the reality of Jerusalem. How many times have I heard of chilonim's fear, yes fear (!) of Jerusalem, perceiving it as being filled with Arabs and Haredim, a place in which they are likely to be stoned. The intifada didn't help in that regard. For the years 2000-2005, most secular schools didn't even send their students on class trips to Jerusalem!
In the lead-up to this 40th year celebration of Yom Yerushalyim, watching TV and reading the papers. We have the usual bandwagon of left-wingers who sound so down on themselves as they bemoan Jerusalem, as a place in which arabs are oppressed, or simply a backwards provincial place, or a crucible of extremism, and so forth. The TV certainly doesn't sound like it is gearing up for a party!
Now, I am all for open discussion, self-criticism and free debate. But there is also a time simply for celebration! (Why do we Jews have such difficulty just celebrating. Do we always have to examine and pick everthing apart?) The simple fact is this: Jews yearned to return to Jeruslaem for 1900 years. Today, 40 years ago, the kotel and the Old city (never mind Hevron and Ma'arat Hamachpela, Shilo, Kever Rachel in Bethlehem, Bet El) all came under Jewish sovereignty. Is that not a reason to be happy? Yes I know the politics and demographics of Jerusalem are complicated! But everything is complicated. There is a time to celebrate and a time to solve problems! Today, we should be happy!
40 years ago, the nation understood that the return to the Kotel was cause for rejoicing. Today, certain sectors fail to see this. Many people are simply disconnected from Jerusalem!
And there are political ramifications too. It would appear that regarding the Kotel there is wide consensus. (This week we heard that 96% of the Jewish Israeli public will not relinquish the kotel even for a Peace deal... see the entire poll - it is very interesting.) However, beyond the kotel, if we do not wish to see Har Habayit given to a future Palestinian State, if we wish to see Jerusalem as united in the future, then we must work (and fight the forces of the extreme Left) to boost the connection of ALL Israelis with Yerushalayim.
The answer is education. Wars can be won by armies, but the real battle is for the MEMORY of historical events. We need to help people see why Jerusalem is special and what it represents to the Jews and to the world! What is the best way to send a message that this is a historic day of incredible Jewish and Zionistic significance? - Make Yom Yerushalayim a public holiday. Then kids will have to learn about it in school. Then it will be in everyone's calendar. Then the collective memory will be forced to absorb this day as a celebration. And when the entire country gets a day off, the mood is good, and Jerusalem Day automatically becomes a happy day. The calendar is a very powerful thing. It indicates what is important. A public holiday for Jerusalem Day would send a message , loud and clear, that a Jewish Jerusalem is a momentous thing.
Make Yom Yerushalayim a Public Holiday and the pieces will fall into place! You'll see.
Why Stay in England?
Latest reports say that Mars Twix and Snickers in the UK will all be non-Kosher pretty soon.
What with:
What with:
- Rising radical Islam
- Gordon Brown
- Rising Temperature
- After Eights are now Milchik
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Post-Shabbat thoughts on Shemitta
The Torah warns of the hardships – practical and psychological – in observing the practices of Shemitta.
In Parshat Behar, we read of the very real worries that people will suffer from a lack of food:
"And should you ask: What are we going to eat in the Seventh year if we may neither sow nor gather in our crops?" (25:20)
The answer is predicated upon a sense of trust in God:
"I will ordain my blessing for you in the sixth year so that it shall yield a crop sufficient for three years. When you sow in the eighth year, you will still be eating old grain of that crop (of the sixth year)…" (25:21-2)
Likewise, regarding loans, the Torah knows that people will be nervous about lending without the prospect of the loan being repaid:
"Beware lest you harbour the base thought, ' The Seventh Year, the year of remission, is approaching,' so that you are mean to your needy kinsman and give him nothing. He will cry out to God against you, and you shall commit a sin. Give to him readily and have no regrets when you do so for in return, the Lord your God will bless you in all your efforts …" (Devarim 15:9-10)
However despite these divine promises, in the test of history Shemitta always seemed too difficult to observe. Ezra in Sefer Divrei Hayamim records that Shemitta was not observed during the first Temple period (See II Chronicles 36:19-21).
Similarly, At the end of the second Temple period, the great sage Hillel, saw that in the lead-up to Shemitta people were refusing to lend money for fear that the loan would be cancelled. He used a rule that if the loan contract had been given to the court for collection, the loan would not be cancelled. Hillel instituted the "Prozbul," a document which transfers authority for the loan to the courts. Now, the Shemitta year would not annul the loan because the court would reinstate it. Effectively Hillel circumvented the Torah law of loan annulment. Why did he do this? Hillel was faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, the loans were to be annulled. But on the other, this was a measure to protect the poor. Now, the very law that was to protect them was hurting the poor! Nobody would lend them money in the lead-up to the Shemitta. With a heavy heart, Hillel instituted the Pruzbul, ensuring the welfare of the poor but effectively eliminating one of the powerful tools which would activate the communal conscience of Shemitta.
[In contrast, it would appear that the AGRICULTURAL Shemitta was observed during Bayit Sheni despite huge hardship! There is a Midrash which preserves an anti-semitic Roman play. There a camel complains that he is hungry because the Jews ate all his straw and thorns during Shemmitta! In other words, to their credit, the Jews resorted to eating thistles and other wild fruits and foods in order to sustain themselves.[1]]
In our century when the pre-State Yishuv was in its early years, the religious farmers were faced with a tremendous dilemma. They were fighting for every inch of land and barely able to support their families. What should they do about Shemitta? Should they refrain from agriculture during Shemitta, thus effectively abandoning their Kibbutzim and settlements. This would be a major setback for the Zionist cause and was unthinkable. Or should they disregard Shemitta? That too was out of the question. Rav Kook followed Hillel's lead and developed a Halakhic solution that would allow the farmers to continue working the land but circumvent the ban on agricultural labour. (The mechanism here was to sell the land to a gentile for a year - sort of like selling Chametz on Pesach - and Jews are permitted to work the land of a gentile during Shemitta.)
So what has become of the noble vision that Shemitta represents today? Unfortunately, today the utopian image of Shemitta - the equality, the spirituality, the counterbalance to extreme materialism - is nothing but a mirage. Rav Aharon Lichtenstein has spoken of "The tragedy of Shemitta." Today Shemitta has retained certain technical laws but has totally lost its spiritual-social vision.
This Shabbat I asked myself, is it really possible to keep Shemitta in today's world, or in any era? We see that historically we found this enormously difficult. Is it possible to release all loans, and to abandon all agriculture for a year?
How will cities survive with millions of inhabitants. They cannot simply drive to the countryside and pick a few tomatoes for lunch each day!
How does an economy with a stock-market, with bonds, with mortgages with international markets and a global competitive economy, with tight market agricultural allocations - how could we keep shemitta and not rely on these heterim even if we so wished?
Was God's intention to keep our economy on a low-ebb? Was the purpose that the entire country would taste the taste of poverty every seven-year cycle? I don't know, the more I think about Shemitta I find it so difficult to fathom how God envisaged it working?
Maybe some people think that way about Shabbat! How can you just stop for a day?! Is it possible that if we DID do Shemitta in the real sense, we would manage just like we do on shabbat? If we genuinely stopped for a year, and had savings plans (during the six years) that could tide us over and maybe even food stores of grain etc. could it work?
Is Shemitta feasible? I imagine God didn't give us an impossible Mitzva, but historically it has proven formidable, and it looks so impossible!
Comments anyone?
Notes
[1] ויקרא רבה פרשה א ד"ה א ויקרא אל
(תהלים קג) גבורי כח עושי דברו במה הכתוב מדבר א"ר יצחק בשומרי שביעית הכתוב מדבר
Here the Midrash calls those who observe Shemitta, "Giborim" because it demanded such fortitude.
In Parshat Behar, we read of the very real worries that people will suffer from a lack of food:
"And should you ask: What are we going to eat in the Seventh year if we may neither sow nor gather in our crops?" (25:20)
The answer is predicated upon a sense of trust in God:
"I will ordain my blessing for you in the sixth year so that it shall yield a crop sufficient for three years. When you sow in the eighth year, you will still be eating old grain of that crop (of the sixth year)…" (25:21-2)
Likewise, regarding loans, the Torah knows that people will be nervous about lending without the prospect of the loan being repaid:
"Beware lest you harbour the base thought, ' The Seventh Year, the year of remission, is approaching,' so that you are mean to your needy kinsman and give him nothing. He will cry out to God against you, and you shall commit a sin. Give to him readily and have no regrets when you do so for in return, the Lord your God will bless you in all your efforts …" (Devarim 15:9-10)
However despite these divine promises, in the test of history Shemitta always seemed too difficult to observe. Ezra in Sefer Divrei Hayamim records that Shemitta was not observed during the first Temple period (See II Chronicles 36:19-21).
Similarly, At the end of the second Temple period, the great sage Hillel, saw that in the lead-up to Shemitta people were refusing to lend money for fear that the loan would be cancelled. He used a rule that if the loan contract had been given to the court for collection, the loan would not be cancelled. Hillel instituted the "Prozbul," a document which transfers authority for the loan to the courts. Now, the Shemitta year would not annul the loan because the court would reinstate it. Effectively Hillel circumvented the Torah law of loan annulment. Why did he do this? Hillel was faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, the loans were to be annulled. But on the other, this was a measure to protect the poor. Now, the very law that was to protect them was hurting the poor! Nobody would lend them money in the lead-up to the Shemitta. With a heavy heart, Hillel instituted the Pruzbul, ensuring the welfare of the poor but effectively eliminating one of the powerful tools which would activate the communal conscience of Shemitta.
[In contrast, it would appear that the AGRICULTURAL Shemitta was observed during Bayit Sheni despite huge hardship! There is a Midrash which preserves an anti-semitic Roman play. There a camel complains that he is hungry because the Jews ate all his straw and thorns during Shemmitta! In other words, to their credit, the Jews resorted to eating thistles and other wild fruits and foods in order to sustain themselves.[1]]
In our century when the pre-State Yishuv was in its early years, the religious farmers were faced with a tremendous dilemma. They were fighting for every inch of land and barely able to support their families. What should they do about Shemitta? Should they refrain from agriculture during Shemitta, thus effectively abandoning their Kibbutzim and settlements. This would be a major setback for the Zionist cause and was unthinkable. Or should they disregard Shemitta? That too was out of the question. Rav Kook followed Hillel's lead and developed a Halakhic solution that would allow the farmers to continue working the land but circumvent the ban on agricultural labour. (The mechanism here was to sell the land to a gentile for a year - sort of like selling Chametz on Pesach - and Jews are permitted to work the land of a gentile during Shemitta.)
So what has become of the noble vision that Shemitta represents today? Unfortunately, today the utopian image of Shemitta - the equality, the spirituality, the counterbalance to extreme materialism - is nothing but a mirage. Rav Aharon Lichtenstein has spoken of "The tragedy of Shemitta." Today Shemitta has retained certain technical laws but has totally lost its spiritual-social vision.
This Shabbat I asked myself, is it really possible to keep Shemitta in today's world, or in any era? We see that historically we found this enormously difficult. Is it possible to release all loans, and to abandon all agriculture for a year?
How will cities survive with millions of inhabitants. They cannot simply drive to the countryside and pick a few tomatoes for lunch each day!
How does an economy with a stock-market, with bonds, with mortgages with international markets and a global competitive economy, with tight market agricultural allocations - how could we keep shemitta and not rely on these heterim even if we so wished?
Was God's intention to keep our economy on a low-ebb? Was the purpose that the entire country would taste the taste of poverty every seven-year cycle? I don't know, the more I think about Shemitta I find it so difficult to fathom how God envisaged it working?
Maybe some people think that way about Shabbat! How can you just stop for a day?! Is it possible that if we DID do Shemitta in the real sense, we would manage just like we do on shabbat? If we genuinely stopped for a year, and had savings plans (during the six years) that could tide us over and maybe even food stores of grain etc. could it work?
Is Shemitta feasible? I imagine God didn't give us an impossible Mitzva, but historically it has proven formidable, and it looks so impossible!
Comments anyone?
Notes
[1] ויקרא רבה פרשה א ד"ה א ויקרא אל
(תהלים קג) גבורי כח עושי דברו במה הכתוב מדבר א"ר יצחק בשומרי שביעית הכתוב מדבר
Here the Midrash calls those who observe Shemitta, "Giborim" because it demanded such fortitude.
Friday, April 27, 2007
You MUST Listen to This! נצור לשונך Rappin'
I heard this song on the radio tonight! It is just the coolest rap that takes the classic words from ספר תהילים and applies it to today's corrupt political scene in Israel. (Apparently the song is part of Ophir Pines' election campaign... but it is a GREAT song anyhow!)
I love it!
Here are the words in full:
נצור לשונך מרע ושפתיך מדבר מרמה
סור מרע עשה טוב בקש שלום ורדפהו
מבטיחים הבטחות ושוכחים לקיים
אני שואל אתכם מה בכלל עובר עליהם
מגלגלים על הלשון את השם של האל בלי להתבלבל,
כן, ככה ממשיכים לזלזל
אין להם תוכנית אפילו לא תוכנית קלושה
שמישהו כבר יבוא ויעצור את הבושה
אין לי כבר תחושה אז תשנו את הגישה
עכשיו זה הזמן של ישראל חדשה
נצור לשונך מרע ושפתיך מדבר מרמהסור מרע עשה טוב בקש שלום ורדפהו
שלום זה פאסה ואל תנסה
לדבר על אהבה, על קרבה, שלא יילך הכסא
אני אומר אל תצרח פשוט תשכח, תברח
אתה סחורה משומשת שאפשר לזרוק לפח
אז מה הוא מבלבל, מה הוא מוכר
ילדים מכים, דוקרים, שונאים את האחר
שמישהו כבר יבוא שיתחיל לנער
אל תעצור - עכשיו הזמן למהר
נצור לשונך מרע ושפתיך מדבר מרמהסור מרע עשה טוב בקש שלום ורדפהו
אני אומר לך: בוא, אחי, אל תתייאש
בוא ניפגש נתרגש אפשר לחדש
להדליק את האש,הזמן לא עומד
אנחנו כאן, וזה עדיין לא מתכן זו האמת
יש בשביל מי ויש בשביל מה
תשמע, זה הזמן לעשות סוף למלחמה
תראה שיהיו כאן חיים מעל האדמה
אלא מה.
נצור....תפסיק לרכל ללכלך לברבר
לזרוק את הכול תמיד על האחר
די להשפיל תתחיל להועיל
אל תשב בפינה, היונה לא ממתינה
זו טובתך זו טובת המדינה
I love it!
Here are the words in full:
נצור לשונך מרע ושפתיך מדבר מרמה
סור מרע עשה טוב בקש שלום ורדפהו
מבטיחים הבטחות ושוכחים לקיים
אני שואל אתכם מה בכלל עובר עליהם
מגלגלים על הלשון את השם של האל בלי להתבלבל,
כן, ככה ממשיכים לזלזל
אין להם תוכנית אפילו לא תוכנית קלושה
שמישהו כבר יבוא ויעצור את הבושה
אין לי כבר תחושה אז תשנו את הגישה
עכשיו זה הזמן של ישראל חדשה
נצור לשונך מרע ושפתיך מדבר מרמהסור מרע עשה טוב בקש שלום ורדפהו
שלום זה פאסה ואל תנסה
לדבר על אהבה, על קרבה, שלא יילך הכסא
אני אומר אל תצרח פשוט תשכח, תברח
אתה סחורה משומשת שאפשר לזרוק לפח
אז מה הוא מבלבל, מה הוא מוכר
ילדים מכים, דוקרים, שונאים את האחר
שמישהו כבר יבוא שיתחיל לנער
אל תעצור - עכשיו הזמן למהר
נצור לשונך מרע ושפתיך מדבר מרמהסור מרע עשה טוב בקש שלום ורדפהו
אני אומר לך: בוא, אחי, אל תתייאש
בוא ניפגש נתרגש אפשר לחדש
להדליק את האש,הזמן לא עומד
אנחנו כאן, וזה עדיין לא מתכן זו האמת
יש בשביל מי ויש בשביל מה
תשמע, זה הזמן לעשות סוף למלחמה
תראה שיהיו כאן חיים מעל האדמה
אלא מה.
נצור....תפסיק לרכל ללכלך לברבר
לזרוק את הכול תמיד על האחר
די להשפיל תתחיל להועיל
אל תשב בפינה, היונה לא ממתינה
זו טובתך זו טובת המדינה
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Flags, Part II
Earlier this week, I made a comment about the absence of flags this Yom Ha'atzmaut. Reading the Haaretz website, there has been a passionate polemic about whether to fly the flag over Yom Ha'atzmaut!
Gidon Levy refuses to fly "the national flag became the flag of extreme nationalism." Furthermore, he laments how : "The extreme nationalistic right stole the flag from me and with it the pride in being Israeli. This act of theft is unforgivable."
Avirama Golan - a strident left-winger herself - objects to Gidon Levy's stand. She hangs a flag this year: "As ever more Israelis threaten to refrain from raising the flag, its importance grows stronger in my eyes and becomes endeared to me anew."
Nadav Shragai equates flying the flag with Jewish Zionist identity, he also involves himself in the question of Israel's Arab minority, and the discussion over Hatikva as a Jewish or Israeli anthem. In the course of all this, he takes a courageous jab at his publisher (and boss) Amos Shocken (See Shocken's article here) accusing his opponents of Postzionist cultural relativism. " No one will respect our Jewish roots and our unique position here if we ourselves do not respect them. "
Avirama Golan - a strident left-winger herself - objects to Gidon Levy's stand. She hangs a flag this year: "As ever more Israelis threaten to refrain from raising the flag, its importance grows stronger in my eyes and becomes endeared to me anew."
Nadav Shragai equates flying the flag with Jewish Zionist identity, he also involves himself in the question of Israel's Arab minority, and the discussion over Hatikva as a Jewish or Israeli anthem. In the course of all this, he takes a courageous jab at his publisher (and boss) Amos Shocken (See Shocken's article here) accusing his opponents of Postzionist cultural relativism. " No one will respect our Jewish roots and our unique position here if we ourselves do not respect them. "
This is the type of Zionist discussion that I value.
Monday, April 23, 2007
יום עצמאות שמח
Do you say Hallel on Yom Ha’atzmaut? With a bracha? Without? Sometimes this question of the propriety of reciting the Bracha for Hallel becomes a heightened source of animated debate and even communal controversy.
I recall a conversation some years ago during my University years, when I used to learn in a local Haredi Beit Midrash. Prior to Yom Ha’atzmaut, one of the Bachurim began to tease my chavruta and I about Hallel on Yom Ha’atzmaut.
“So I suppose that you will be saying Hallel?”
“Sure!” we replied.
“Well, I follow what Ben-Gurion did,” he responded with a humorous tone, “I don’t say Hallel, but I don’t say Tachanun either.”
Clearly, this “joke” – on the assumption that Ben Gurion didn’t “daven” at all – was meant to amuse, but also to tell us that he had Zionist sympathies, but he wasn’t going to go overboard. This young man would not say Tachanun on Yom Ha’atzmaut, however he was not going to take the huge step of reciting Hallel, a Halakhically questionable act.
At the time I wasn’t quick enough to respond. But I was not amused then, and I am less so now. I am writing this as something of a response to this wise-guy, but also to attack a dangerous apathetic stance towards Medinat Yisrael which I feel is only too prevalent in many places.
I’ll put it simply. Ben Gurion didn’t daven! He didn’t speak to God! How about you who DOES speak to God? Should we respond to the establishment of Medinat Yisrael as one who does not daven, as one who has no relationship with Hakadosh Baruch Hu? We talk to God. What do we have to say to God on this day? To my mind, the primary response to Yom Ha’atzmaut in the soul of any religious person, should be one of immense thanksgiving to God. When God has demonstrated His benevolence, guiding history in manner that benefits the Jewish people so dramatically, so significantly, are we so ungrateful, so indifferent as to fail to utter words of thanks and praise?
(If one fails to react in this manner, I can only imagine that it is based on one of two conclusions: Either Medinat Yisrael isn’t such a great historical event for Am Yisrael, or God didn’t have a hand in it!)
Now let me stress at this point that I am not instructing everyone to “recite” Hallel. That is a Halakhic question. (See Rav Ovadia Yosef’s Teshuvot Yabia Omer – Orach Chaim 6:41.) But how can one pass the day of the establishment of the State of Israel without a word of thanks to the Ribbono shel Olam!
THE OBLIGATION OF PRAISE
Do we not indeed have the most elementary obligation to praise Hashem?
And for what do we have to bless God? That 600,000 Jews survived an attack by 5 trained Arab armies sworn to annihilate them. That we have returned to the Land of our forefathers. That we have restored Jewish Government. That we have built a country that is committed to house and defend Jews all around the globe. That Israel has become the center of Jewish education, Yeshivot, Torah learning, worldwide. That Israel has given a huge sense of Jewish pride to the entire Jewish world, (and who knows how we would have regained that confidence after the Shoah without Medinat Yisrael.) Remember, all educational surveys show that still today Israel is the most profound and formative educational experience for Jewish youth. (This is all said without reference to Geula, Messianic process, or prophecies fulfilled. )
How can a person NOT say Hallel?
How can we be so ungrateful to God?
How dare we not recognize God in this great gift that He has granted the Jewish people in our age?
So say Hallel. With a bracha, without a bracha. You don’t want to recite those perakim? – choose other perakim. But stand before God, and feel the emotion of gratitude, and express it in the classic religious manner – recite Hallel, dance and sing, praise God with a seudat Mitzva.
“Hodu Lashem ki Tov, Ki Leolam Chasdo!”
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Yom Hazikaron
!ונזכור את כולם
מגש הכסף . נתן אלטרמן
...והארץ תשקוט.
עין שמיים אודמת
תעמעם לאיטה על גבולות עשנים
ואומה תעמוד קרועת לב אך נושמת...
לקבל את הנס האחד אין שני
היא לטקס תיכון היא תקום למול סהר
ועמדה למולם עוטה חג ואימה
אז מנגד ייצאו נער ונערה
ואט אט ייצעדו הם אל מול האומה
לובשי חול וחגור כבדי נעליים
בנתיב יצעדו הם הלוך והחרש
לא החליפו בגדם לא מחו עוד במים
את עקבות יום הפרך וליל קו האש
עייפים עד בלי קץ נזירים ממרגוע
ונוטפים טללי נעורים עבריים
דום השניים ייגשו ועמדו לבלי נוע
ואין אות אם חיים הם או ירויים
אז תשאל האומה שטופת דמע וקסם
ואמרה: מי אתם מי אתם
והשניים שוקטים יענו לה: אנחנו מגש הכסף
שעליו לך ניתנה מדינת היהודים
כך אמרו ונפלו לרגלה עוטי צל
והשאר יסופר בתולדות ישראל
תעמעם לאיטה על גבולות עשנים
ואומה תעמוד קרועת לב אך נושמת...
לקבל את הנס האחד אין שני
היא לטקס תיכון היא תקום למול סהר
ועמדה למולם עוטה חג ואימה
אז מנגד ייצאו נער ונערה
ואט אט ייצעדו הם אל מול האומה
לובשי חול וחגור כבדי נעליים
בנתיב יצעדו הם הלוך והחרש
לא החליפו בגדם לא מחו עוד במים
את עקבות יום הפרך וליל קו האש
עייפים עד בלי קץ נזירים ממרגוע
ונוטפים טללי נעורים עבריים
דום השניים ייגשו ועמדו לבלי נוע
ואין אות אם חיים הם או ירויים
אז תשאל האומה שטופת דמע וקסם
ואמרה: מי אתם מי אתם
והשניים שוקטים יענו לה: אנחנו מגש הכסף
שעליו לך ניתנה מדינת היהודים
כך אמרו ונפלו לרגלה עוטי צל
והשאר יסופר בתולדות ישראל
Saturday, April 21, 2007
No flags?
Daniel Gordis is an astute observer of Israeli society.
Here is what he writes this week:
"For a few days, I thought that perhaps I was misremembering. But as the days after Pesach continued to flow by, it was clear. Something was different. In years past, almost as soon as Pesach was over, the country would be festooned in blue and white. Flags fluttered from the windows of cars everywhere, and hung from the porches of buildings throughout the city. It seemed you couldn’t stop at a single red light without someone trying to sell you a flag to put on your car. And almost everyone bought them.
Not this year, though. Sure, there’s still the occasional car with flags attached to the rear window, and in our neighborhood, a few porches are sporting blue and white. Right before Yom Ha-Atzma’ut, I imagine, there will be even more. But there’s no denying. Relative to what there was a few years ago, and even last year, there’s almost nothing. That flags are gone. "
And the minute I read this, it clicked that he is perfectly correct. This year there are significantly fewer flags.
Yes - people are not feeling so proud of their country. With a terribly bungled war last summer that embarrassed the entire country, with so many senior politicians under serious investigation, with our soldiers captured and no return in sight, with a governmnet which is widely perceived as inept, people are just not as excited to celebrate "Israel" this year.
Sad... but true!
Here is what he writes this week:
"For a few days, I thought that perhaps I was misremembering. But as the days after Pesach continued to flow by, it was clear. Something was different. In years past, almost as soon as Pesach was over, the country would be festooned in blue and white. Flags fluttered from the windows of cars everywhere, and hung from the porches of buildings throughout the city. It seemed you couldn’t stop at a single red light without someone trying to sell you a flag to put on your car. And almost everyone bought them.
Not this year, though. Sure, there’s still the occasional car with flags attached to the rear window, and in our neighborhood, a few porches are sporting blue and white. Right before Yom Ha-Atzma’ut, I imagine, there will be even more. But there’s no denying. Relative to what there was a few years ago, and even last year, there’s almost nothing. That flags are gone. "
And the minute I read this, it clicked that he is perfectly correct. This year there are significantly fewer flags.
Yes - people are not feeling so proud of their country. With a terribly bungled war last summer that embarrassed the entire country, with so many senior politicians under serious investigation, with our soldiers captured and no return in sight, with a governmnet which is widely perceived as inept, people are just not as excited to celebrate "Israel" this year.
Sad... but true!
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Tazria-Metzora
Here is a podcast I recorded for the VBM (KMTT). It examines the place of Tumah and Tahara in Sefer Vayikra.
And here is a (written) shiur for this week:
The (written) shiur deals with the THREE areas of our lives which are affected by Tzaraat: Body , Clothing, and Home. Interestingly, these represent three "membranes" three outer layers that protect and insulate us from our wider environment. Our skin, our clothing, our houses, all are seperating layers between ourselves and others. The shiur examines the unique textures of each of these different shells of our lives. And how Tzaraat works as a corrective stimulus when the system goes wrong.
And here is a (written) shiur for this week:
The (written) shiur deals with the THREE areas of our lives which are affected by Tzaraat: Body , Clothing, and Home. Interestingly, these represent three "membranes" three outer layers that protect and insulate us from our wider environment. Our skin, our clothing, our houses, all are seperating layers between ourselves and others. The shiur examines the unique textures of each of these different shells of our lives. And how Tzaraat works as a corrective stimulus when the system goes wrong.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
The Four Lepers - Haftara For Parashat Metzora: Can We Accept An Imperfect Geula?
With Parashat Hashavua and Yom Haatzmaut in mind....
(adapted from my Melachim Bet blog)
The Haftara this week tells an exciting and miraculous story. The Northern Kingdom (Yisrael) are under a crushing siege by the Aramean army. There is no food. The horrors of siege have fully set in as people have descended to cannibalism in order to relive their hunger!
And then, suddenly God saves the people, in miraculous turn of events, by frightening the enemy camp. But no-one realises that the enemy have fled. It is a group of four lepers, societal outcasts, who actually discover that the enemy have deserted their positions. Rejected from society, they try their luck with the Arameans assuming that since they will die of hunger anyhow; Who knows? maybe the Arameans will spare their lives. They arrive at the enemy camp and find it empty. Soon afterwards, they return to the city to announce the good news to the desperate people, including the king.
RACHEL
The famous modern Hebrew poet, Rachel, wrote this powerful poem based upon our Haftara. (She wrote "Hatishma Koli" and "Kinneret sheli" and she lived a very personally tragic life amidst the joy of the Second Aliya and Kibbutz Degania. She is buried at Kibbutz Kinneret and Nomi Shemer who put many of her poems into songs is buried close by.) She writes:
בשכבר הימים האויב הנורא
את שומרון הביא במצור
ארבעה מצורעים לה בשרו בשורה.
כשומרון במצור - כל הארץ כולה
וכבד הרעב מנשוא;
אך אני לא אובה בשורת גאולה
אם מפי מצורע היא תבוא.
הטהור יבשר, יגאל הטהור
אם ידו לא תמצא לגאול –
אז נבחר לי לנפול ממצוקת המצור
אור ליום בשורה הגדול".
For a long while the dreadful enemy
Brought Samaria to siege;
Four lepers to her brought tidings.
To her brought the tidings of freedom.
A Samaria under siege - the entire land,
The famine is too hard to bear.
But I will not want news of freedom,
If it comes from the mouth of a leper.
The pure will bring news and the pure will redeem,
And if his hand won’t be there to redeem
- Then I will choose to die from the suffering of the siege
On the eve of the day of the great tidings.
Now, what is she saying? Very clearly, she is relating to the connection between the means and the end. Rachel is a perfectionist. She would prefer to choose to die from the suffering of the siege rather than accept the tidings of redemption from one who is not worthy to do so.
Is this a Jewish perspective? Fascinatingly, the Gemara in one aggadic passage[1] suggests that the Mashiach is a leper! On this basis, I would say that Judaism does not always present Geula , salvation, as perfect. There is redemption EVEN by a leper!
EXAMINING THE STORY
To my mind, however, our Haftara expresses a more complex message. Indeed, the lepers are the tools of redemption. One wonders why? Interestingly as the story progresses, they undergo a transformation. At first, they are only looking out for themselves, and they eat and drink. Suddenly they turn and begin to think about the starving masses in the city, and they realise their sin.
From one angle, this is exactly the movement that we anticipate from the leper as he is ejected from the city. Obviously, the lepers are afflicted by God, and hence rejected from the community for some anti-social sin (Lashon Hara, haughtiness, stinginess etc.) Part of their "exile" as it were is that they sit outside the town and ponder their place within, and their responsibilities to the collective.
But here is the unexpected part. Precisely their outside view allows them to see the redemption clearer than the masses! It is certainly ironic that their distance allows them to see God's salvation more clearly. Interestingly, there is another story in Massechet Berachot (54a-b) where the lepers realise God's miracle, whereas the people fail to see it. Are we saying that sometimes the problem is IN society and not outside it? Or are we simply saying that even the outsider, the sinner might be the harbinger of the Geula? Many questions are opened up here.
RAV AHRON SOLOVEICHIK
Rav Ahron Soloveitchik, the Rav's brother, referred to this chapter in an article entitled "Israel's Independence Day: Reflections in Halachah and Hashkafa." Here he reads our Perek along the same lines that we have presented:
"We thus see that the miracle of the deliverance of all the inhabitants of Samaria was carried out through the medium of four lepers: physical lepers, yes, but above all, spiritual lepers. (According to our Sages, these four outcasts were none other than Gechazi and his three sons, who were afflicted with leprosy as a penalty for their spiritual heresy. The Rambam in his Commentary to the Mishnah in the last chapter of Sanhedrin describes them as cynics and scoffers.)
The first argument, as to how any relief for the Jewish people could be realized through the medium of apikorsim (non-believers), can easily be rebutted by the precedent of the deliverance accorded the people of Samaria through the medium of the four lepers. This episode shows that no Jew can be excluded from the grace of God, that Yisrael af al pi shechata, Yisrael hu - a Jew, even though he has sinned, remains a Jew, and that there is an innate tendency towards altruism even in the heart of spiritual lepers.
It also shows that God does not exclude any Jew from salvation and He may therefore designate even spiritual outcasts as the messengers of relief and deliverance for the people of Israel. Consequently, we cannot ignore the significance of the establishment of the State of Israel simply because Jews who stand a substantial distance from any form of observance of mitzvos were at the forefront of founding the State. Perhaps the fact that nonobservant Jews are in the forefront today is a penalty for Orthodox Jewry's failure to play the most important part in the formation of the State."
THE CONTEXT IN SEFER MELACHIM
I believe that it is exactly the notion of a flawed Geula that lies at the heart of this story. It is precisely a salvation for a lepered nation. At this point in History, Israel is suffering attack and invasion (from Aram.) It would appear that this national weakness is a punishment for the sins of the generation of Achav. To this end, the entire nation is subjected to a state of prolonged suffering. Elisha's miracles are more of an inspiration than a salvation. This story fits exactly into the rhythm of these years of "hester panim" in which even our major victories, however miraculous, fail to raise us. Maybe the lesson that Am Yisrael have to learn is to turn their society around and learn the lessons of OUR affliction, allowing ourselves to act differently and change the national priorities.
A flawed Geula fits a flawed reality. Rav Amital once said that after the Holocaust we are prepared to accept even a Geula that is not a Geula Shelema, as long as the Galut comes to an end! He is a Holocaust survivor, and to that end feels that sense of desperation that is described in this chapter.
And yet, I feel that OUR generation, born amongst comfort and hope, want to see a perfect Geula, just as the poet Rachel writes!
Notes
[1] The Talmud (Sanhedrin 98a) tells the following story. It relates how R. Joshua b. Levi, a scholar of second century C.E., meets the Prophet Eliyahu. He asks Eliyahu when the Messiah will come, to which he replies, "Ask him." "But where is he?" says R. Joshua. "He is at the entrance," is the reply. And how shall I recognize him?". To which Elijah responds, "He is the man who is bandaging the wounds of the lepers one by one." (As Rashi ad loc. explains, the significance of this unusual way of operating is that the Messiah must be ready at any moment to respond to a call from on high.) So R. Joshua goes over and asks that man, "When is it that the Master will come?" He replies, "Today!" R. Joshua returns to Elijah and told him, "He lies: he said 'today' but he does not come." Elijah answers him that it is indeed today "if you would indeed heed His charge this day." (Psalms 95:7).
(adapted from my Melachim Bet blog)
The Haftara this week tells an exciting and miraculous story. The Northern Kingdom (Yisrael) are under a crushing siege by the Aramean army. There is no food. The horrors of siege have fully set in as people have descended to cannibalism in order to relive their hunger!
And then, suddenly God saves the people, in miraculous turn of events, by frightening the enemy camp. But no-one realises that the enemy have fled. It is a group of four lepers, societal outcasts, who actually discover that the enemy have deserted their positions. Rejected from society, they try their luck with the Arameans assuming that since they will die of hunger anyhow; Who knows? maybe the Arameans will spare their lives. They arrive at the enemy camp and find it empty. Soon afterwards, they return to the city to announce the good news to the desperate people, including the king.
RACHEL
The famous modern Hebrew poet, Rachel, wrote this powerful poem based upon our Haftara. (She wrote "Hatishma Koli" and "Kinneret sheli" and she lived a very personally tragic life amidst the joy of the Second Aliya and Kibbutz Degania. She is buried at Kibbutz Kinneret and Nomi Shemer who put many of her poems into songs is buried close by.) She writes:
בשכבר הימים האויב הנורא
את שומרון הביא במצור
ארבעה מצורעים לה בשרו בשורה.
כשומרון במצור - כל הארץ כולה
וכבד הרעב מנשוא;
אך אני לא אובה בשורת גאולה
אם מפי מצורע היא תבוא.
הטהור יבשר, יגאל הטהור
אם ידו לא תמצא לגאול –
אז נבחר לי לנפול ממצוקת המצור
אור ליום בשורה הגדול".
For a long while the dreadful enemy
Brought Samaria to siege;
Four lepers to her brought tidings.
To her brought the tidings of freedom.
A Samaria under siege - the entire land,
The famine is too hard to bear.
But I will not want news of freedom,
If it comes from the mouth of a leper.
The pure will bring news and the pure will redeem,
And if his hand won’t be there to redeem
- Then I will choose to die from the suffering of the siege
On the eve of the day of the great tidings.
Now, what is she saying? Very clearly, she is relating to the connection between the means and the end. Rachel is a perfectionist. She would prefer to choose to die from the suffering of the siege rather than accept the tidings of redemption from one who is not worthy to do so.
Is this a Jewish perspective? Fascinatingly, the Gemara in one aggadic passage[1] suggests that the Mashiach is a leper! On this basis, I would say that Judaism does not always present Geula , salvation, as perfect. There is redemption EVEN by a leper!
EXAMINING THE STORY
To my mind, however, our Haftara expresses a more complex message. Indeed, the lepers are the tools of redemption. One wonders why? Interestingly as the story progresses, they undergo a transformation. At first, they are only looking out for themselves, and they eat and drink. Suddenly they turn and begin to think about the starving masses in the city, and they realise their sin.
From one angle, this is exactly the movement that we anticipate from the leper as he is ejected from the city. Obviously, the lepers are afflicted by God, and hence rejected from the community for some anti-social sin (Lashon Hara, haughtiness, stinginess etc.) Part of their "exile" as it were is that they sit outside the town and ponder their place within, and their responsibilities to the collective.
But here is the unexpected part. Precisely their outside view allows them to see the redemption clearer than the masses! It is certainly ironic that their distance allows them to see God's salvation more clearly. Interestingly, there is another story in Massechet Berachot (54a-b) where the lepers realise God's miracle, whereas the people fail to see it. Are we saying that sometimes the problem is IN society and not outside it? Or are we simply saying that even the outsider, the sinner might be the harbinger of the Geula? Many questions are opened up here.
RAV AHRON SOLOVEICHIK
Rav Ahron Soloveitchik, the Rav's brother, referred to this chapter in an article entitled "Israel's Independence Day: Reflections in Halachah and Hashkafa." Here he reads our Perek along the same lines that we have presented:
"We thus see that the miracle of the deliverance of all the inhabitants of Samaria was carried out through the medium of four lepers: physical lepers, yes, but above all, spiritual lepers. (According to our Sages, these four outcasts were none other than Gechazi and his three sons, who were afflicted with leprosy as a penalty for their spiritual heresy. The Rambam in his Commentary to the Mishnah in the last chapter of Sanhedrin describes them as cynics and scoffers.)
The first argument, as to how any relief for the Jewish people could be realized through the medium of apikorsim (non-believers), can easily be rebutted by the precedent of the deliverance accorded the people of Samaria through the medium of the four lepers. This episode shows that no Jew can be excluded from the grace of God, that Yisrael af al pi shechata, Yisrael hu - a Jew, even though he has sinned, remains a Jew, and that there is an innate tendency towards altruism even in the heart of spiritual lepers.
It also shows that God does not exclude any Jew from salvation and He may therefore designate even spiritual outcasts as the messengers of relief and deliverance for the people of Israel. Consequently, we cannot ignore the significance of the establishment of the State of Israel simply because Jews who stand a substantial distance from any form of observance of mitzvos were at the forefront of founding the State. Perhaps the fact that nonobservant Jews are in the forefront today is a penalty for Orthodox Jewry's failure to play the most important part in the formation of the State."
THE CONTEXT IN SEFER MELACHIM
I believe that it is exactly the notion of a flawed Geula that lies at the heart of this story. It is precisely a salvation for a lepered nation. At this point in History, Israel is suffering attack and invasion (from Aram.) It would appear that this national weakness is a punishment for the sins of the generation of Achav. To this end, the entire nation is subjected to a state of prolonged suffering. Elisha's miracles are more of an inspiration than a salvation. This story fits exactly into the rhythm of these years of "hester panim" in which even our major victories, however miraculous, fail to raise us. Maybe the lesson that Am Yisrael have to learn is to turn their society around and learn the lessons of OUR affliction, allowing ourselves to act differently and change the national priorities.
A flawed Geula fits a flawed reality. Rav Amital once said that after the Holocaust we are prepared to accept even a Geula that is not a Geula Shelema, as long as the Galut comes to an end! He is a Holocaust survivor, and to that end feels that sense of desperation that is described in this chapter.
And yet, I feel that OUR generation, born amongst comfort and hope, want to see a perfect Geula, just as the poet Rachel writes!
Notes
[1] The Talmud (Sanhedrin 98a) tells the following story. It relates how R. Joshua b. Levi, a scholar of second century C.E., meets the Prophet Eliyahu. He asks Eliyahu when the Messiah will come, to which he replies, "Ask him." "But where is he?" says R. Joshua. "He is at the entrance," is the reply. And how shall I recognize him?". To which Elijah responds, "He is the man who is bandaging the wounds of the lepers one by one." (As Rashi ad loc. explains, the significance of this unusual way of operating is that the Messiah must be ready at any moment to respond to a call from on high.) So R. Joshua goes over and asks that man, "When is it that the Master will come?" He replies, "Today!" R. Joshua returns to Elijah and told him, "He lies: he said 'today' but he does not come." Elijah answers him that it is indeed today "if you would indeed heed His charge this day." (Psalms 95:7).
Monday, April 16, 2007
The Public Sphere: Chol Hamoed & Yom Hashoah
Tonight is Yom Hashoah.
(For more on the Shoah see this Post)
Yom Hashoah is not something that one can avoid here in ISrael. Every radio station and TV station broadcasts only programming related to the Holocaust! By law, there are no commercials on TV or radio. Public places of entertainment are closed. The entire atmosphere takes on a sombre mood. Tomorrow at 10:00 there is a 2 minute siren that ushers in a moment of contemplation and national silence.
I drove home from work this evening, The radio on every channel discussing the Shoah. Along route 1 - the major Tel Aviv-Jerusalem Highway there are electronic signs that routinely carry warnings of bad road conditions and traffic alerts. Tonight the electronic sign read so simply:
נזכור
ולא נשכח
(Let us Remember ... and not Forget!)
Once again I find myself commenting how powerful it is to be a Jew here in our own country. A person lives in many concentric circles: Family; Community; Town; Nation.
In London, I was aware that my Jewish identity could be expressed on the personal, familial and communal plane, but no further. The public zone is neutral, or British in character.
Here in Israel, there is a phenomenal force that never ceases to astound me by its power, and that is the texture of the National, the collective spirit; the ability for a Jewish Israeli culture to affect the "Reshut HaRabim", the פרהסיא; the street, the public zone, the national tone and mood. This is an all-encompassing, and penetrating emotive force.
It manifests itself in positive ways too. On Chol Hamoed, back in London, my Dad went to work. Yes, we ate Matza, or in the Sukka, but the culture of Christmas penetrated the street far more than the atmosphere of Pesach or Sukkot. When one went on a Pesach hike, we felt that we were the only people exisiting in a strange bubble of Pesach. But here, the entire country is overwhelemed by a festive feel. On Pesach we stopped at a gas station and I went into the shop at the Petrol Station to buy a drink. I saw some chocolate that I couldn't believe was Kosher LePesach so I asked about it. The lady behind the counter gave me an offended look as she responded; "Everything here is Kosher LePesach! It's Pesach!"
Everyone feels the powerful atmosphere of the national culture, and when that culture is Jewish, ona sad day like Yom HaShoah, or on a festive day like Pesach, it feels so so right. It feels like home.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Meeting on the Israel Trail
I wanted to talk about an amazing project that is taking place in Israel at the moment. Here is the description of the project:
"After the recent war, we all felt shaken up; more than ever we sense the widening divisions in Israei society: centre and periphery, strong and weak, religious and secular. In order to preserve the togetherness and unity we invite you all to stride together with us in a trek nothwards: to connect, to become familiar with each other, to identify ourselves, to feel. Join us as we walk through the incredible scenery of the land..."
And each day, Israelis from all walks of life meet up at the starting point early in the morning; left wingers and settlers, religious and secular etc. and walk a portion of the "Israel Trail" a path that stretches the length and breadth of Israel.
They are walking from 1st of Nissan until Yom Haatzmaut! (exept Shabbat and Chag) From Tel Aviv to Shaar Yashuv in the North - near Kiryat Shmoneh.
Each day they:
- learn about a topic relating to Judaism and Israel and society. (From classic Torah mekorot to Israeli poetry and literature etc. On Fridays, they study the Parsha.)
- meet with a person/leader/poet/writer/activist who has changed Israeli society for the better
On the way they visit community centres to meet with Olim, voluntary organisations etc. And every night on Galei Tzaal, there is a 2 minute report on the day's activities!
So Zionism isn't dead! What a powerful project! What positive energies!
I have two comments to make in regard to this:
First, it is fascinating to watch how in the current Israeli reality of a pathetic government and corrupt leadership, that people-power is taking the lead. It is volunteer organisations who help the poor and needy before Pesach; it is chessed organisations that helped the Northern villages and towns under attack last summer, and now, we see that Zionism, societal unity, idealism sprouts from the grass-roots! Am Yisrael Chai!
Second, let me quote from Rabbi Sacks:
"Not far from were we live, in North-West London, is Regent's Park. Completed in 1827 and opened to the public in 1838 , it is ... a glorious mixture of lakes; tree lined avenues, open spaces for games, and flower-beds that for half the year are an impressionist masterpiece of blazing colour. There are coffee shops and restaurants, a zoo and open-air theatre, and a magnificent rose garden. There are places for children to play and for people to have picnics or row-boats on the lake or simply stroll and enjoy the view.
...At most times of the day it is full of people relaxing, talking, drinking coffee, reading the papers, jogging, walking, exercising the dog, meeting friends or just enjoying the sight of other people enjoying themselves. The point about it is that it is a public place. It is a place where we can all go, on equal terms... the park itself is ours. In it we are equal citizens. And because we enjoy it and want it to be there, we keep the rules, usually without having to be told.
... For me, the park is a metaphor for a concept ... namely, society. Society is a vague and complicated idea and it is easier to say what it isn't than what it is. It isn't the state, it isn't the market, it isn't a mere aggregation of private individuals.
... Where is society?
The simple answer is that it is everywhere in general and nowhere in particular. It is an abstract concept, but we encounter its presence wherever we go, from the 'Good Morning' we share with neighbours to the television programmes we watch at night. But should someone say, that is still too vague to understand, I would show them the park." (Politics of Hope. pgs 41-43)
Israeli society is fragmented. Every neighbourhood is characterised and segmented. The city is already a place in which we irritate each other. We prefer to live in separated zones, dislocated sectors. And hence it is not surprising, but quite fascinating that the place in which we can go to meet each other, the arena in which we might express and explore our unity - our society - is out in nature; on the trails and footpaths, the steep hills and picturesque valleys. On the other hand, the incredible natural beauty of our land and the Biblical landscapes of our beloved Eretz Yisrael should be enough to arouse a sense of love and mutual fraternity in us all.
"After the recent war, we all felt shaken up; more than ever we sense the widening divisions in Israei society: centre and periphery, strong and weak, religious and secular. In order to preserve the togetherness and unity we invite you all to stride together with us in a trek nothwards: to connect, to become familiar with each other, to identify ourselves, to feel. Join us as we walk through the incredible scenery of the land..."
And each day, Israelis from all walks of life meet up at the starting point early in the morning; left wingers and settlers, religious and secular etc. and walk a portion of the "Israel Trail" a path that stretches the length and breadth of Israel.
They are walking from 1st of Nissan until Yom Haatzmaut! (exept Shabbat and Chag) From Tel Aviv to Shaar Yashuv in the North - near Kiryat Shmoneh.
Each day they:
- learn about a topic relating to Judaism and Israel and society. (From classic Torah mekorot to Israeli poetry and literature etc. On Fridays, they study the Parsha.)
- meet with a person/leader/poet/writer/activist who has changed Israeli society for the better
On the way they visit community centres to meet with Olim, voluntary organisations etc. And every night on Galei Tzaal, there is a 2 minute report on the day's activities!
So Zionism isn't dead! What a powerful project! What positive energies!
I have two comments to make in regard to this:
First, it is fascinating to watch how in the current Israeli reality of a pathetic government and corrupt leadership, that people-power is taking the lead. It is volunteer organisations who help the poor and needy before Pesach; it is chessed organisations that helped the Northern villages and towns under attack last summer, and now, we see that Zionism, societal unity, idealism sprouts from the grass-roots! Am Yisrael Chai!
Second, let me quote from Rabbi Sacks:
"Not far from were we live, in North-West London, is Regent's Park. Completed in 1827 and opened to the public in 1838 , it is ... a glorious mixture of lakes; tree lined avenues, open spaces for games, and flower-beds that for half the year are an impressionist masterpiece of blazing colour. There are coffee shops and restaurants, a zoo and open-air theatre, and a magnificent rose garden. There are places for children to play and for people to have picnics or row-boats on the lake or simply stroll and enjoy the view.
...At most times of the day it is full of people relaxing, talking, drinking coffee, reading the papers, jogging, walking, exercising the dog, meeting friends or just enjoying the sight of other people enjoying themselves. The point about it is that it is a public place. It is a place where we can all go, on equal terms... the park itself is ours. In it we are equal citizens. And because we enjoy it and want it to be there, we keep the rules, usually without having to be told.
... For me, the park is a metaphor for a concept ... namely, society. Society is a vague and complicated idea and it is easier to say what it isn't than what it is. It isn't the state, it isn't the market, it isn't a mere aggregation of private individuals.
... Where is society?
The simple answer is that it is everywhere in general and nowhere in particular. It is an abstract concept, but we encounter its presence wherever we go, from the 'Good Morning' we share with neighbours to the television programmes we watch at night. But should someone say, that is still too vague to understand, I would show them the park." (Politics of Hope. pgs 41-43)
Israeli society is fragmented. Every neighbourhood is characterised and segmented. The city is already a place in which we irritate each other. We prefer to live in separated zones, dislocated sectors. And hence it is not surprising, but quite fascinating that the place in which we can go to meet each other, the arena in which we might express and explore our unity - our society - is out in nature; on the trails and footpaths, the steep hills and picturesque valleys. On the other hand, the incredible natural beauty of our land and the Biblical landscapes of our beloved Eretz Yisrael should be enough to arouse a sense of love and mutual fraternity in us all.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
After Pesach .. Catching Up! Part 2. The Maror in the Matza
Pesach and Maror
Each year, I feel like I manage to develop some new understanding or stimulating perspective in the approach to Seder night. This year , with all the bustle, the innovation just wasn't coming through. Until Seder night that is. Just prior to Maariv on Leil Pesach, I read a piece by Rav Neriah Gutel, (Dean of Michlelet Orot,) about Maror.
He raised an important observation. That even though the night of Pesach focuses upon Freedom, we still remember slavery… we still eat Maror! I once wrote a shiur about how there are three "tenses" in the Seder: Maror represents the past … the enslavement. Matza represents the Future – the Freedom, the hasty Exodus. Pesach symbolizes the freeze-frame moment of redemption; the midnight hour which is the pivot, the linchpin. This is the "Present" , the moment of freedom!
In the throes of freedom we may suppose that we forget the slavery, the suffering and the bitterness. However, we actually combine all three elements and eat them together?
But how does Maror add something? Why should we remember the bitter past? What does it add to the future, to a world of choices and opportunity, to the mindset of the free-Man?
This is the question that I thought about during Seder… What does Maror add? Why remember the slavery?
There are a number of possibilities.
1. Contrast. In the same manner that sharp food as a condiment may enhance the taste of another food, so Maror enhanced the meat of the Pesach (like we add mustard to a steak, or horseradish to gefilte fish!?) If we may unpack the parable, the memory bitter slavery reminds us how fortunate we are, how far we have come… form the depths to the heights: מקימי מעפר דל מאשפות ירים אביון להושיבי עם נדיבים
2. The texture of Freedom: Maybe it is there to ENHANCE our freedom. The free man who has never tasted suffering lacks perspective. He lacks sensitivities that have been gained through suffering, poverty and danger. וזכרת כי גרים הייתם במצרים - that as Jews, we must be more sensitive to outsiders, to minority groups because we know what it is like to be a despised minority, a scapegoat and outcast, exiled from society. Maror reminds us that in our success we must not lose perspective of the poor man.
3. Ongoing danger: A further perspective that I heard on Shabbat Chol Hamoed may relate to the fact that even at the moment of Exodus we are far from Freedom. After the victory of the night of the Exodus, comes the fear of the Israelites at the Red Sea. The terror of the sight of the Egyptian army in pursuit sends the Israelites into frenzied panic. Is the Freedom of Egypt illusory? In Hallel we find ourselves praising God: "Hodu LeHashem Ki Tov" – and the next moment; "Min Hameitzar – I call to God in my distress!" Frequently even major successes can fall flat in a short period. Maybe as we eat Maror, we understand that even in victory, might and the glorious dizziness of Freedom, there is only a small distance to exile, defeat, suffering and helplessness. Maror looms beneath the veneer of the Matza. Even in our march to Freedom, we realise that Maror is not that far away.
Is that too pessimistic?
It is certainly interesting that before Yom Haatzmaut, we mark Yom Hazikaron, and even earlier, Yom Hashoah. Is that the Maror with the Matza?
My new perspective was that even in our discussions of Freedom, of national birth, of Jewish Identity and nationhood, we must include the Maror… a sense of memory of past suffering, a sensitivity even in the present to understandings gained in the past, and maybe even a sense of humility, despite present comforts and opportunities.
Feel free to offer your suggestions in the "Comments" section!
Oh! And one lovely piece from Haaretz that made me sit up and think. Avirama Golan who is frequently sharply anti-religious, wrote this articulate and sensitive piece about the limits of "Freedom" or maybe "the Maror with the Matza!" Read it here.
Each year, I feel like I manage to develop some new understanding or stimulating perspective in the approach to Seder night. This year , with all the bustle, the innovation just wasn't coming through. Until Seder night that is. Just prior to Maariv on Leil Pesach, I read a piece by Rav Neriah Gutel, (Dean of Michlelet Orot,) about Maror.
He raised an important observation. That even though the night of Pesach focuses upon Freedom, we still remember slavery… we still eat Maror! I once wrote a shiur about how there are three "tenses" in the Seder: Maror represents the past … the enslavement. Matza represents the Future – the Freedom, the hasty Exodus. Pesach symbolizes the freeze-frame moment of redemption; the midnight hour which is the pivot, the linchpin. This is the "Present" , the moment of freedom!
In the throes of freedom we may suppose that we forget the slavery, the suffering and the bitterness. However, we actually combine all three elements and eat them together?
But how does Maror add something? Why should we remember the bitter past? What does it add to the future, to a world of choices and opportunity, to the mindset of the free-Man?
This is the question that I thought about during Seder… What does Maror add? Why remember the slavery?
There are a number of possibilities.
1. Contrast. In the same manner that sharp food as a condiment may enhance the taste of another food, so Maror enhanced the meat of the Pesach (like we add mustard to a steak, or horseradish to gefilte fish!?) If we may unpack the parable, the memory bitter slavery reminds us how fortunate we are, how far we have come… form the depths to the heights: מקימי מעפר דל מאשפות ירים אביון להושיבי עם נדיבים
2. The texture of Freedom: Maybe it is there to ENHANCE our freedom. The free man who has never tasted suffering lacks perspective. He lacks sensitivities that have been gained through suffering, poverty and danger. וזכרת כי גרים הייתם במצרים - that as Jews, we must be more sensitive to outsiders, to minority groups because we know what it is like to be a despised minority, a scapegoat and outcast, exiled from society. Maror reminds us that in our success we must not lose perspective of the poor man.
3. Ongoing danger: A further perspective that I heard on Shabbat Chol Hamoed may relate to the fact that even at the moment of Exodus we are far from Freedom. After the victory of the night of the Exodus, comes the fear of the Israelites at the Red Sea. The terror of the sight of the Egyptian army in pursuit sends the Israelites into frenzied panic. Is the Freedom of Egypt illusory? In Hallel we find ourselves praising God: "Hodu LeHashem Ki Tov" – and the next moment; "Min Hameitzar – I call to God in my distress!" Frequently even major successes can fall flat in a short period. Maybe as we eat Maror, we understand that even in victory, might and the glorious dizziness of Freedom, there is only a small distance to exile, defeat, suffering and helplessness. Maror looms beneath the veneer of the Matza. Even in our march to Freedom, we realise that Maror is not that far away.
Is that too pessimistic?
It is certainly interesting that before Yom Haatzmaut, we mark Yom Hazikaron, and even earlier, Yom Hashoah. Is that the Maror with the Matza?
My new perspective was that even in our discussions of Freedom, of national birth, of Jewish Identity and nationhood, we must include the Maror… a sense of memory of past suffering, a sensitivity even in the present to understandings gained in the past, and maybe even a sense of humility, despite present comforts and opportunities.
Feel free to offer your suggestions in the "Comments" section!
Oh! And one lovely piece from Haaretz that made me sit up and think. Avirama Golan who is frequently sharply anti-religious, wrote this articulate and sensitive piece about the limits of "Freedom" or maybe "the Maror with the Matza!" Read it here.
After Pesach .. Catching Up! Part 1.
You might have noticed that my blogging has become rather sparse lately. First I had a trip to the UK and U.S. There was preparation for the trip and then the (very successful and enjoyable) speaking tour/ visiting students / teaching Torah. I then walked back into the full swing of Pesach cleaning and preparations with my childrens' school holidays added for fun! And then Pesach itself! So – I'm back now!
Here is a quick update in three parts.
The Trip to חו"ל: Ki MiZion Tetze Torah
The trip was fabulous in many ways. Four cities and 11 shiurim in 7 days! Apart from all the travel and Torah, I managed to see the Monet exhibition at the Royal Academy in London! But if one spiritual insight stands out, I would say this. Upon reflection, I believe that this thought made its impression upon me because I didn't quite expect it. It wasn't a conscious understanding as I prepared my visit, and it dawned on me as each shiur and meeting transpired.
The main purpose of my travels was to spend a very special Shabbat as scholar-in-residence in Chicago. But a secondary aim was to visit some of my students who I have taught in Israel on various programs – Gush, Midreshet Harova, Eretz Hatzvi, Lindenbaum, Orot. My stopovers in London, NYU and Penn were specifically a response to many students who complained: "Why don't you come and give shiur to us?" or challenged me: "You better come and visit." Well, a teacher-student relationship is a powerful one and I do feel strongly attached to my talmidim/ot, and so I felt a desire to respond to the request.
I arrived in these places, and I could see, as I interacted, and taught Torah, that in some way, I was bringing a little bit of Yeshiva/ Midrasha, a little glimpse of Eretz Yisrael and Torat Eretz Yisrael with me. In many faces I saw the feeling (and some talmidim/ot articulated the thought) that "This is the Torah that we miss from Israel." Even my comments above, about the depth and strength of the teacher-student bond are in some way, realizations that penetrated my thinking more fully as a result of my trip.
When I was in University in London, my teachers would visit and it would bring the feeling of Yeshiva flooding back, recalibrating me, reorienting me. In some small way, I feel that my meeting with my students achieved this for them, and for even for that, it was worth it.
Here is a quick update in three parts.
The Trip to חו"ל: Ki MiZion Tetze Torah
The trip was fabulous in many ways. Four cities and 11 shiurim in 7 days! Apart from all the travel and Torah, I managed to see the Monet exhibition at the Royal Academy in London! But if one spiritual insight stands out, I would say this. Upon reflection, I believe that this thought made its impression upon me because I didn't quite expect it. It wasn't a conscious understanding as I prepared my visit, and it dawned on me as each shiur and meeting transpired.
The main purpose of my travels was to spend a very special Shabbat as scholar-in-residence in Chicago. But a secondary aim was to visit some of my students who I have taught in Israel on various programs – Gush, Midreshet Harova, Eretz Hatzvi, Lindenbaum, Orot. My stopovers in London, NYU and Penn were specifically a response to many students who complained: "Why don't you come and give shiur to us?" or challenged me: "You better come and visit." Well, a teacher-student relationship is a powerful one and I do feel strongly attached to my talmidim/ot, and so I felt a desire to respond to the request.
I arrived in these places, and I could see, as I interacted, and taught Torah, that in some way, I was bringing a little bit of Yeshiva/ Midrasha, a little glimpse of Eretz Yisrael and Torat Eretz Yisrael with me. In many faces I saw the feeling (and some talmidim/ot articulated the thought) that "This is the Torah that we miss from Israel." Even my comments above, about the depth and strength of the teacher-student bond are in some way, realizations that penetrated my thinking more fully as a result of my trip.
When I was in University in London, my teachers would visit and it would bring the feeling of Yeshiva flooding back, recalibrating me, reorienting me. In some small way, I feel that my meeting with my students achieved this for them, and for even for that, it was worth it.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Chol Hamoed Pesach 1945
This is a sad story. Maybe it is inappropriate for Chol Hamoed and simchat Yom Tov. However it is also inspirational as it tells the tale of incredible devotion to Judaism in the face of unbelievable suffering and adversity. This is the Chag of Avdut to Herut (See my next post!) and in that sense, this piece may be read as suffused with the spirit of Pesach... as you will read. I cannot ever daven Mussaf on Chol Hamoed Pesach without thinking about Mr. Finkelstein and Vehikravtem. Maybe this story will give us extra impetus to recite Hallel with full fervour, thanking God for giving us freedom and safety in our day and age.
The piece comes from (Prof. Rabbi) David Weiss-Halivni's autobiography, as he describes life in the Nazi work/concentration camps. He was fifteen years old and working in a very long tunnel with German guard at the entrance and this is what he retells:
"I passed by the Todt (German Guard) as he was eating his scheduled snack, his meal between meals. In characteristic German style, he ate at the same time every night and, what's more, he ate the same thing every night: a thinly sliced sandwich containing some greasy substance that stained the wrapping paper and made it transparent. He and his eating habits became as much a feature of the tunnel as the chila (wagons) and carrying the drills.
This time, however, our meeting was different. His sandwich was wrapped in a page of Orach Chaim, a volume of the Shulchan Aruch, Pesil Balaban's edition. The Balabans began publishing the Shulchan Aruch, the Jewish Code of Law, in Lemberg in 1839. The first publisher was Abraham Balaban, and after his death he was succeeded by his widow, Pesil. Pesil's edition of the Shulchan Aruch was the best; it had all the commentaries, including that of Rabbi Shloma Kluger. As a child of a poor but scholarly home, I had always wanted to have her edition. We had a Shulchan Aruch, but it wasn't Pesil's. Ours was also old and torn. It was my ambition as a child to own a Vi/ner Shas (a complete set of all the Talmud's volumes), Pesil's Shulchan Aruch, and a set of "Rambams," a complete set of Maimonides' major legal writings. Here, of all places, in the shadows of the tunnel, under the threatening gaze of the German, a page of the Shulchan Aruch, with fatty spots all over it, met my eyes.
The page was from the laws of Passover (Orach Chaim 434). The question on the page deals with whether an agent can nullify the leavened bread of a household before Passover, which is the subject of a disagreement. On the one hand, why not? After all, isn't there a general rule: "A man's agent is like unto himself" - everything we can do a proxy can do for us? However, the Ran-a fourteenth-century scholar-argues that since bittul (the annulment) is a result of hefker (abandonment), the nullifying is considered a kind of disowning or dissolving of ownership, which cannot be done through an agent.
Upon seeing this wrapper, I instinctively fell at the feet of the guard, without even realizing why; the mere letters propelled me. With tears in my eyes, I implored him to give me this bletl, this page. For a while he didn't know what was happening; he thought I was suffering from epilepsy. He immediately put his hand to his revolver, the usual reaction to an unknown situation. But then he understood. This was, I explained to him, a page from a book I had studied at home. Please, I sobbed, give it to me as a souvenir. He gave me the bletl and I took it back to the camp. On the Sundays we had off, we now had not only Oral Torah but Written Torah as well. The bletl became a visible symbol of a connection between the camp and the activities of Jews throughout history. It was not important what the topic was, whether agency or any other. Perhaps it was symbolic; who knows what mission we were supposed to fulfill there? The bletl became a rallying point. We looked forward to studying it whenever we had free time, more so even than to the phylacteries. It was the bletl, parts of which had to be deciphered because the grease made some letters illegible, that summoned our attention. Most of those who came to listen didn't understand the subject matter, but that was irrelevant. They all perceived the symbolic significance of the bletl.
The bletl was entrusted to a Mr. Finkelstein-I believe his name was Moshe, from Mateszalka, a town in Hungary where my father had been in the ghetto. Mr. Finkelstein was "a Jew who always prayed"; his lips always moved. I have a feeling that he wasn't sure after reciting his prayers once if he had recited them correctly. Or maybe he recited them once in the Ashkenazic pronunciation and once in the Sephardic. Having the bletl around in the camp was dangerous. Someone caught with it would be considered to be carrying contraband. Mr. Finkelstein volunteered to keep the bletl and, of course, produced it every second Sunday, when we were off. He must have carried it on his person; I'm sure he slept with it. The bletl was always with him and secure. Knowing that the bletl was with Mr. Finkelstein, we felt secure as well.
ALL THIS continued until February 1945, when we were transferred to Ebensee, part of the Mauthausen complex in Upper Austria… Ebensee was the worst extermination camp anywhere in Germany or Austria… The daily toll of dead, I believe, sometimes reached as high as eighty in our block alone. I DIDN'T see Mr. Moshe Finkelstein in Ebensee, even though he was also there. I must confess that the bletl was not on my mind. The sheer need to survive under constant torture drove out any other interests. In Ebensee we didn't have second Sundays off; there was no possibility of learning. The episode of the bletl was blocked out of my memory. As the Talmud says, "Subsequent troubles cause the earlier ones to be forgotten." And troubles there were. Ebensee appeared like a bottomless inferno devouring all who entered it.
One day, while I was mixing cement in the big amphitheater-a kind of working plaza where chilas of all sizes and from all directions raced at me, this time to pick up cement-I spotted Mr. Finkelstein. He saw me as well. We tried to make contact, but it wasn't easy. We had to pass in front of kapos, each of whom had his own turf, which he guarded jealously against intruders. Finally, we made contact. He asked me whether I knew the prayer "vehikravtem" by heart. It was Passover, 1945. It was the first day of Chol Hamoed, the intermediate days of Passover, and he wanted to know the exact formulation of the sacrifices performed in the Temple service of old and recited in the Musaf prayer. Sacrifice was on Mr. Finkelstein's mind. How appropriate! He himself was a sacrifice; so were we all, lambs waiting for the slaughter. I told him the formulation and asked him about the bletl. He tapped his hip, and that was enough of a sign that, despite the horrible conditions, which killed perhaps as many as ninety percent of us, the bletl was safe and secure. We parted with a "gut yam tov" greeting.
Subsequently I heard from the Betlamer Rav that soon after we parted, Mr. Finkelstein collapsed. Before there was time to remove the bletl from his body, he was taken away to the crematorium. When Mr. Finkelstein's body went up in smoke, the bletl went with him."
"The Book and the Sword" - A Life of learning in the Shadow of Destruction.
by David Weiss Halivni
pgs 68-72
The piece comes from (Prof. Rabbi) David Weiss-Halivni's autobiography, as he describes life in the Nazi work/concentration camps. He was fifteen years old and working in a very long tunnel with German guard at the entrance and this is what he retells:
"I passed by the Todt (German Guard) as he was eating his scheduled snack, his meal between meals. In characteristic German style, he ate at the same time every night and, what's more, he ate the same thing every night: a thinly sliced sandwich containing some greasy substance that stained the wrapping paper and made it transparent. He and his eating habits became as much a feature of the tunnel as the chila (wagons) and carrying the drills.
This time, however, our meeting was different. His sandwich was wrapped in a page of Orach Chaim, a volume of the Shulchan Aruch, Pesil Balaban's edition. The Balabans began publishing the Shulchan Aruch, the Jewish Code of Law, in Lemberg in 1839. The first publisher was Abraham Balaban, and after his death he was succeeded by his widow, Pesil. Pesil's edition of the Shulchan Aruch was the best; it had all the commentaries, including that of Rabbi Shloma Kluger. As a child of a poor but scholarly home, I had always wanted to have her edition. We had a Shulchan Aruch, but it wasn't Pesil's. Ours was also old and torn. It was my ambition as a child to own a Vi/ner Shas (a complete set of all the Talmud's volumes), Pesil's Shulchan Aruch, and a set of "Rambams," a complete set of Maimonides' major legal writings. Here, of all places, in the shadows of the tunnel, under the threatening gaze of the German, a page of the Shulchan Aruch, with fatty spots all over it, met my eyes.
The page was from the laws of Passover (Orach Chaim 434). The question on the page deals with whether an agent can nullify the leavened bread of a household before Passover, which is the subject of a disagreement. On the one hand, why not? After all, isn't there a general rule: "A man's agent is like unto himself" - everything we can do a proxy can do for us? However, the Ran-a fourteenth-century scholar-argues that since bittul (the annulment) is a result of hefker (abandonment), the nullifying is considered a kind of disowning or dissolving of ownership, which cannot be done through an agent.
Upon seeing this wrapper, I instinctively fell at the feet of the guard, without even realizing why; the mere letters propelled me. With tears in my eyes, I implored him to give me this bletl, this page. For a while he didn't know what was happening; he thought I was suffering from epilepsy. He immediately put his hand to his revolver, the usual reaction to an unknown situation. But then he understood. This was, I explained to him, a page from a book I had studied at home. Please, I sobbed, give it to me as a souvenir. He gave me the bletl and I took it back to the camp. On the Sundays we had off, we now had not only Oral Torah but Written Torah as well. The bletl became a visible symbol of a connection between the camp and the activities of Jews throughout history. It was not important what the topic was, whether agency or any other. Perhaps it was symbolic; who knows what mission we were supposed to fulfill there? The bletl became a rallying point. We looked forward to studying it whenever we had free time, more so even than to the phylacteries. It was the bletl, parts of which had to be deciphered because the grease made some letters illegible, that summoned our attention. Most of those who came to listen didn't understand the subject matter, but that was irrelevant. They all perceived the symbolic significance of the bletl.
The bletl was entrusted to a Mr. Finkelstein-I believe his name was Moshe, from Mateszalka, a town in Hungary where my father had been in the ghetto. Mr. Finkelstein was "a Jew who always prayed"; his lips always moved. I have a feeling that he wasn't sure after reciting his prayers once if he had recited them correctly. Or maybe he recited them once in the Ashkenazic pronunciation and once in the Sephardic. Having the bletl around in the camp was dangerous. Someone caught with it would be considered to be carrying contraband. Mr. Finkelstein volunteered to keep the bletl and, of course, produced it every second Sunday, when we were off. He must have carried it on his person; I'm sure he slept with it. The bletl was always with him and secure. Knowing that the bletl was with Mr. Finkelstein, we felt secure as well.
ALL THIS continued until February 1945, when we were transferred to Ebensee, part of the Mauthausen complex in Upper Austria… Ebensee was the worst extermination camp anywhere in Germany or Austria… The daily toll of dead, I believe, sometimes reached as high as eighty in our block alone. I DIDN'T see Mr. Moshe Finkelstein in Ebensee, even though he was also there. I must confess that the bletl was not on my mind. The sheer need to survive under constant torture drove out any other interests. In Ebensee we didn't have second Sundays off; there was no possibility of learning. The episode of the bletl was blocked out of my memory. As the Talmud says, "Subsequent troubles cause the earlier ones to be forgotten." And troubles there were. Ebensee appeared like a bottomless inferno devouring all who entered it.
One day, while I was mixing cement in the big amphitheater-a kind of working plaza where chilas of all sizes and from all directions raced at me, this time to pick up cement-I spotted Mr. Finkelstein. He saw me as well. We tried to make contact, but it wasn't easy. We had to pass in front of kapos, each of whom had his own turf, which he guarded jealously against intruders. Finally, we made contact. He asked me whether I knew the prayer "vehikravtem" by heart. It was Passover, 1945. It was the first day of Chol Hamoed, the intermediate days of Passover, and he wanted to know the exact formulation of the sacrifices performed in the Temple service of old and recited in the Musaf prayer. Sacrifice was on Mr. Finkelstein's mind. How appropriate! He himself was a sacrifice; so were we all, lambs waiting for the slaughter. I told him the formulation and asked him about the bletl. He tapped his hip, and that was enough of a sign that, despite the horrible conditions, which killed perhaps as many as ninety percent of us, the bletl was safe and secure. We parted with a "gut yam tov" greeting.
Subsequently I heard from the Betlamer Rav that soon after we parted, Mr. Finkelstein collapsed. Before there was time to remove the bletl from his body, he was taken away to the crematorium. When Mr. Finkelstein's body went up in smoke, the bletl went with him."
"The Book and the Sword" - A Life of learning in the Shadow of Destruction.
by David Weiss Halivni
pgs 68-72
Monday, April 02, 2007
בכל דור ודור עומדים עלינו לכלותינו
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It has been a while since I posted a song. This one caught my interest. It has such dry cynicism, a zany pace, and it is Israel's new entry to the Eurovision by brilliant, avant guard, somewhat eccentric Kobi Oz and "TeaPacks" . It is a very clever song. It deals with the current nuclear threat to Israel from Israel. Watch the song here And here are the words:
The world is full of terror
If someone makes an error
He’s gonna blow us up to biddy biddy kingdom come
There are some crazy rulers they hide and try to fool us
With demonic, technologic willingness to harm
They’re gonna push the button
Push the button push the bu push the bu push the button
And I don’t want to die; I want to see the flowers bloom
Don’t want a go capoot ka boom, and I don’t want to cry
I wanna have a lot of fun, just sitting in the sun
But nevertheless - he’s gonna push the button
Push the button push the bu push the bu push the button
Here are Complete lyrics in Hebrew English and French
For an entire study guide, see the Jewish Agency site put together by Gila Ansell Brauner.
It has been a while since I posted a song. This one caught my interest. It has such dry cynicism, a zany pace, and it is Israel's new entry to the Eurovision by brilliant, avant guard, somewhat eccentric Kobi Oz and "TeaPacks" . It is a very clever song. It deals with the current nuclear threat to Israel from Israel. Watch the song here And here are the words:
The world is full of terror
If someone makes an error
He’s gonna blow us up to biddy biddy kingdom come
There are some crazy rulers they hide and try to fool us
With demonic, technologic willingness to harm
They’re gonna push the button
Push the button push the bu push the bu push the button
And I don’t want to die; I want to see the flowers bloom
Don’t want a go capoot ka boom, and I don’t want to cry
I wanna have a lot of fun, just sitting in the sun
But nevertheless - he’s gonna push the button
Push the button push the bu push the bu push the button
Here are Complete lyrics in Hebrew English and French
For an entire study guide, see the Jewish Agency site put together by Gila Ansell Brauner.
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