Parshas Shemini: The Intentions of Ahava versus Yira

This week’s parsha, Parshas Shemini, could be said, if one looks at it broadly, to about honest motivations. Torah Judaism puts tremendous importance on a person’s intention. Indeed, what one has in mind when doing an action can often be the difference between its being a mitzvah or not.

 

The last Perek (chapter) in this parsha talk about non-kosher and kosher animals. It deliberately details 4 animals as being almost kosher, which, of course, is not kosher at all. The camel, the hybex, and the hare are all noted as chewing their cud but having feet that are falsely similar to split hooves. The pig, on the other hand, is noted as having split hooves, but only appearing to chew its cud. Chazal, the sages, speak of it as a deliberate attempt by the animal to deceive one into thinking it is kosher – it is a deliberately false intention. And as we all may have noticed, there are few animals as vilified among the Jewish people as pigs (even if they are just as unkosher as any other non-kosher animal).

 

The pig is a rather drastic example of the intention to deceive. However, let’s be honest – almost all of us have either lacked intention or had the wrong intention while doing a mitzvah, at least once in our lives. That doesn’t mean we had a mean or negative intention, but we just didn’t have the right intentions. Sometimes that is okay. Sometimes that leads to Sheh lo lishma, bo lishma – that wasn’t for the sake of heaven, to being for the sake of heaven. But sometimes, when it is really important, we need to really take ourselves into account; we need to think through our actions before we rush forward.

 

This is one of the lessons of Nadav and Abihu. They watched their father, Aaron, perform the avodah perfectly, and they witnessed that “A fire went forth from before Hashem and consumed” the offering. It was a moment of sheer awe. Indeed, the entire people shouted and fell on their faces (Vayikra 9:24). The very next pasuk, 10:1, then describes the actions of Nadav and Abihu performing the service themselves and being consumed by flame.  

 

Imagine what this must have looked like for Klal Yisrael. These young kohanim jump up to perform a service and are struck down. Their actions looked kosher, but they weren’t.

 

The are a multitude of commentaries about what they did that caused them to be punished so drastically. There are those that say that they were drunk, based on the commandment not to drink when performing the avodah that is written later in the parsha. There are those that say that their rash action was the result of arrogance, of a sense that they were equally important as their father. Or perhaps it was the zealousness of youth. These commentaries all speak to an underlying error in intention. They performed the ritual correctly, although they had not been instructed to do so, but their intentions were more selfishly motivated.

 

On the other hand, there are commentaries that speak of Nadav and Abihu’s good intentions. One could see how these youths brought their offering out of overwhelming love for Hashem. They have just witnessed the success of the inauguration of the Mishkan, the culmination of what the klal had been working toward. They had just gotten a direct and positive response from Hashem. If this, they might have thought, is what Hashem wants, then we shall give Him more.

 

The intention, in that case, was beautiful, and yet it was still wrong because it was lacking a fundamental understanding that living by Hashem’s Torah means we don’t act purely on impulse. The emotion of love, even love for Hashem, is tempered by yira, fear in the sense of the awe of knowing that this world has a right way and a wrong way.

 

The Torah requires us to live our lives under specific rules and guidelines, and as beautiful as the love is, it isn’t enough. Two people cannot always marry just because they love each other, for instance a kohain and a divorcee. There are rules. There are limitations. And they are in place to bring order to the world. The emotion of love can be overwhelming, but as beautiful as that is, the euphoric feelings of doing something good at that moment are a false front.

 

Many of us grew up surrounded by a society that presented an underlying message that if one just lives a good life, that’s enough. And there are many, many people who love God powerfully and who strive to be the best person that they can be because of that emotion, but it lacks a framework. This is one of the messages we learn during Pesach, when we contemplate leaving slavery in Mitzrayim to go out and become avdei Hashem, servants of Hashem.

 

Living our own definition of being a good person, defining our relationships with Hashem based on our inner emotions, or jumping into mitzvos out of Ahava when they aren’t our mitzvos to do, are all false fronts. A “kosher” life, so to speak, is a life that is filled with Ahavas Hashem that is guided by Yira, by awe. That sense of yira is what reminds us that the halachos hand down from Sinai were given to us because only Hashem understands the true innerworking of the world and following His ways is actually the ultimate expression of Ahavas Hashem.

Parshas Pekudai: Reflections on Accounting

This week's parsha, Parshas Pekudei, is the last parsha of Sefer Shemos and is mostly - well, almost entirely - focused on the completion of the pieces of the Mishkan and its assembling. Like all parshios, Parshas Pekudei is named for the first significant word in the parsha, and, as so often happens, there is important subtext to the use of this word.

“Eleh pekudei haMishkan…This is an accounting of the Mishkan…” (Shemos 38:21).

The word “pekudei” is strong and informative. The parsha opens with pasukim that specify exactly how Bnei Yisrael's donations were used in producing the pieces in the Mishkan. The Midrash, however, explains why the accounting happened at all. There were, it seems, actually people who suspected Moshe Rabbeinu of pocketing some of the gold and silver. Here was a man who had walked away from royalty, who had dedicated himself to the people, and who had spoken to Gd to beg for the lives of the entire nation! How could anyone possibly suggest that Moshe had misappropriated funds?

In the book “Rav Chaim Kanievsky on Chumash,” it is noted that Rav Chaim pointed out that the avnei zikaron, the remembrance stones” are written in Parshas Tetzaveh without a vav in the word zikaron (rememberance) but with a vav in this week’s parsha. When written without the vav, Rav Chaim states, “zikaron always indicates a positive remembrance: remembering a merit or a promised reward” (p. 439). The added vav, however, indicates that the remembrance has grown wider. “While the stones could still serve as a remembrance of their [Bnei Yisrael] merits, they could now also remind Hashem of their sins, if they proved unworthy” (ibid.).

The difference of Tetzaveh and Pekudei? The chait haegel (sin of the golden calf). We all understand, on some level, how terrible the chait haegel was. The chait was transformative - and not in a good way. Beyond losing the ultimate connection with Hakadosh Baruch Hu, we, the Jewish people, lost faith in ourselves. 

In a way, the chait haegel had an impact on Bnei Yisrael that is similar to the effect on all of humanity that came from Chava eating from the eitz hadas (the tree of knowledge of good and bad). This one act shifted the perception of everyone ever after. Prior to the eating of the fruit, humanity was able to perceive the world with innocence, without an inner yetzer harah. After they ate, however, Adam and Chava saw the world so differently that they could no longer look at each other without seeing nakedness. 

At Har Sinai, Bnei Yisrael reached an incredible level of kedusha. They were raised onto a spiritual level that should have made them see the world in a way that, well, to be honest, we today just cannot fathom. I imagine that they would have had a unique perception of Hashem’s din and rachamim. And when they set out to have Aaron make the egel, it is understood by our sages that they did so out of a desire to have a means of getting closer to Hashem because there were subtle insinuations of doubt of Moshe’s return. The whispers that Moshe had been gone too long were as insidious as the serpent making Chava doubt herself by showing her that the tree was safe to touch. 

The sin happened. The sinners were rebuked and also forgiven. Their understanding of the world - their place in the world - however, had shifted once again. Before the chait, Bnei Yisrael was focused on Hashem and connecting to Him, so Hashem could plan that the avnei zikaron were reflections of their merit. After the chait, however, Bnei Yisrael must live with the knowledge that they are capable of such sin and that their friends and neighbors are capable fo such sin. The only way that anyone could have accused Moshe of misusing the funds for the Mishkan was if they had had such thoughts themselves, and such thoughts could only have power if one doubts oneself and thus everyone else. 

When Bnei Yisrael committed the chait haegel, they broke more than Hashem’s trust; they broke their trust in themselves. The avnei zikaron would now be remembrances of both good and bad because Bnei Yisrael had removed themselves from the spiritual level of Sinai and returned to a more common level, a level on which they perceive both good and bad in themselves and in others. 

Taking it a step further (and out on one of my limbs), this is the level that allowed them to complain over and over in the wilderness. Bnei Yisrael no longer perceived Hashem’s din and rachamim as the Divine forces of the world but were now low enough to question even Hashem. This is how we today are capable of being angry at Hashem, even though true bitachon requires the recognition that everything that happens is, ultimately, for our own good. It’s still emuna. We still know that Hashem is the active force of the world, but we are not able to see it for what it is.

The accounting of Pekudei occurred because the people were now capable of doubt, of assuming ill of Moshe. That does not, however, make the accounting a bad thing. Am Yisrael resides in a world in which the other nations are constantly judging our nation, and we must learn from Moshe that even when there is no need to show our honesty, an honest accounting is always beneficial. 

Wishing you all a good Shabbas

Parshas Vayakhel – Teacher Talk

“Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.” If ever there was a degrading statement that deserved to be disproved, it is this. Those who teach because they “can’t” make terrible teachers; and those who teach because they are inspired and wish to inspire others...well, you can judge.

As odd an opening as this might seem for a Dvar Torah, it is actually highly apropos for this week’s parsha, Parahas Vayakhel, which contains a fascinating verse on this subject: “And also the gift of teaching has He put in his (Betzalel’s) heart, both he and Ohalieb, the son of Ahisamach, of the tribe of Dan” (Shemos 35:34). Moshe had just finished explaining that Hashem had filled Betzalel with all sorts of engineering and artistic knowledge so that he would be able to take charge of the building of the Mishkan, and yet it was noteworthy to mention that equal to all these gifts was the fact that Hashem had filled him with the ability to teach.

Teaching is not easy, especially if the subject being taught is one which the person teaching knows by instinct. If one is born with a natural musical talent, it can be challenging to teach someone who is less inclined to hear the music.

There is, of course, greater significance to this verse. The people are making the Mishkan. All the people who wish to participate in the process, all the people who want to contribute their efforts in whichever way they can, are going to come forward. But by including this detail - that Betzalel and Ohalieb have been given a talent for teaching in addition to engineering and artistry – Moshe is making certain that even those who are uncertain of their skills and talents can come and join.

Additionally, there is an important message for Betzalel and Ohalieb: Just because you have a natural talent, just because you may be the most talented, does not mean that you should do it all alone. Natural talent is a gift, a privilege… and, as we all know, with great privilege comes great responsibility. You must do things with your talent, and you must share your talent with those who want to learn.

This may seem a short and simple Dvar Torah, but it has many applications to life. The Mishkan was built by Klal Yisrael working together. The only way this happens if there is coordination and delegation, and Hashem made a statement of His expectation of that behavior by highlighting that a talent for teaching was gifted to them. Transmitting knowledge, be that Torah or science or the arts, requires its own significant capability, and it should not be minimized. But, also, we each must share our individual knowledge and talents so that we as a nation, as a people, can fulfill our role in this world.

I wish you all much hatzlacha in finding your own special gifts and finding the people with whom to share it.

Shabbat Shalom

Parshas Ki Sisa: Putting the Finery Aside

If you were to be given a pop quiz on all the immediate consequences of the cheit haegel, the sin of the golden calf, you would probably say that people died and that Hashem distanced Himself from the nation. Both of these are correct. Most people who learn parsha will recall that the Leviim strapped on their swords and meted out punishment so that “three thousand men fell from among the people” (Shemos 32:28). Furthermore, the people were struck by a plague, although the Torah does not give a specific count of how many died because of it.

The other primary consequence that is generally discussed is Moshe begging Hashem not to destroy the nation. Hashem agrees, but He also tells Moshe that He will send His malachim to help them as they go, “But I will not go in your midst, since you are a stiff-necked people, lest I destroy you on the way” (33:4).

If the second question on this pop quiz was to ask how jewelry is connected to the cheit haegel, there would, again, be little hesitation in responding: the men eagerly gave the family jewelry to Aaron to create the golden calf. Jewelry, however, is also significant among the consequences of the sin. It is written:

“When the people heard this harsh word [that Hashem would not go in their midst], they went into mourning, and none put on finery. Hashem said to Moshe, ‘Say to the Israelite people, “You are a stiff-necked people. If I were to go in your midst for one moment, I would destroy you. Now, then, leave off your finery, and I will consider what to do to you.”’ So the children of Israel divested themselves of their finery from Mount Horeb.” (33:4-6).

This small section of the Torah, so easily glossed over by the momentous actions occurring all around it, is rather intriguing. To break it down: Bnei Yisrael express their regret and despair by refraining from adorning themselves. Hashem responds by telling them to “leave off your finery.” They do so.

Just as a minor point, one might be asking what jewelry or finery was left. However, Aaron specifically asked for gold earrings, and there was plenty of other jewelry still left. There is, however, a question of the final verse specifying “their finery from Mount Horeb.” Some commentators explain this as jewelry they wore when they received the Torah while others believe that it refers to jewelry that represents receiving the Torah (for instance the idea that they each received a spiritual crown or set of crowns). It is significant that the Hebrew word used for this finery, as the Chabad website translates it, is “edyam,” the root of which appears to be ayin-daled, which also forms the word for “ed,” which means witness.

This section of verses is a fascinating example of the human propensity for self reflection. Hashem announces that He will not be travelling with the nation. The people assess themselves and recognize that they are not the same as they were at Horeb, they recognize their own spiritual failing and find a physical means of expressing this.

From that perspective, Hashem’s response is, need I say, endearing…like a parent who realizes the limit of his/her anger at the child and tells the child to go away so that he/she may figure out what to do. Pasuk hey (5) is Hashem’s reassessment of the nation based on their own self-assessment. The fact that they recognize their spiritual failing and accept the responsibility of it, and still want to fight for their relationship with Hashem – that is how Bnei Yisrael is stiff necked! That is why Hashem must “consider what to do to you.”

What did Bnei Yisrael leave behind? They left behind the divine glory that they were obviously not ready to own, that we are still, to this day, not ready to own. But that is significant.

Bnei Yisrael went from the 49th level of tumah to receiving the Torah and experiencing divinity in an extremely short period of time. They may have wanted to wear the finery of spiritual perfection, but now, after falling so far during the cheit haegel, they were able to realize – by themselves and approved by Hashem – that this was not where they were able to be. But the fact that they voluntarily removed this ideal from themselves demonstrated the very fact that they wanted the relationship.

Each of us is on a spiritual journey. Each of us wants to attain a real relationship with Hashem. But for those of us who sometimes wish to reach the level of relationship where we could just see an open miracle or two, or just know what Hashem has in store. or witness direct intervention, Shemos 33:4-6 reminds us that we accepted upon ourselves that this was too much, that this was a level on which we could not live. In doing so, that midbar generation removed perfectionism as a spiritual goal. Only Hashem is perfect. Humans cannot live on a perfect level. It is, rather, our stiff-necked journey of trying to get higher, to get closer, without giving up even when one falls, that is important.

Wishing you Shabbat Shalom

Parshas Tetzaveh: Spiritual Reflexology

Dedicated l’ilui nshmas Avraham Ephraim Beryl ben Yaakov Halevi, my father, may he rest in peace, whose Yahrtzeit is 14 Adar.

 What sets the kohanim apart from the rest of Bnei Yisrael? Today, many scientific minds might say that the answer feels like it might be solely DNA, the ancestral traits that lead back to a single progenitor. But DNA is a blueprint to the individual elements that make up a person. We now know that people can have genetic markers for a predisposition to be a morning person or to dislike cilantro. The DNA passed down to all of the male descendants of Aaron the Kohain does give them a distinctive trait; it just isn’t physical.

 Speculatively, one could say that the genetic make-up that came straight from Aaron is a unique connection to spirituality, which he was born with. But the fact that the role of the priests was initially intended to be fulfilled by the firstborn, and then it was designated to the Leviim, and then it was given to Aaron and his sons indicates that it was not something inherent that Aaron was born with but rather that there was some form of transformation…

 I will gladly state that everything that follows is purely speculative. In this week’s parsha, Parshas Tetzaveh, there is a detailed description of the specific ceremony of inauguration that Aaron and his sons were to undergo. They were bathed and dressed in their very unique garb and then anointed. Once Aaron and his sons were prepared, the following karbanos took place in this specific sequence: A bull was slaughtered, its blood was applied to the altar, its fat burned, and then, after the fats, the rest of it was burnt. Then two rams were brought forward. The first ram had its blood sprinkled, but then all of it was burnt for the raiach nichoach, a satisfying aroma spirit. The second ram, however, was the source of blood that was placed on the right ear cartilage, right thumb, and right big toe of Aaron and his sons. Afterward, the Torah states: “Take some of the blood that is on the altar and some of the anointing oil and sprinkle upon Aaron and his vestments, and also upon his sons and his sons’ vestments. Thus shall he and his vestments be holy, as well as his sons and his sons’ vestments” (Shemos 29:21).

 One of the things that stands out about this ceremony is the placing of the blood on the ear, thumb, and toe.  Actually, and quite interestingly, it was noted on Aish.com that the only other place this specific ritual is mentioned is in connection to one who has recovered from tzaras and must be ritually purified. In no other place in the Torah do we have a marked physical indication of attaining a different spiritual level, except, perhaps with the means of inaugurating the kohanim. What is the connection of one who has recovered from tzaras and Aaron and his sons on the verge of attaining the kahuna, and what does either have to do with one’s ear, thumb, and toe?

 There is an alternative medicine practice known a reflexology. Its critical act is to press on specific pressure points that activate natural healing and stress relief. What is fascinating is that reflexology focuses on three main body parts – the foot, the hand, and the ear.

 The person suffering from tzaras needed healing – spiritual to affect the physical. But why were the ear, thumb, and toe significant to the kohanim? The term healing is generally connected to the dismissal or cure of an illness, but, perhaps, when we speak of healing that is connected to the spiritual, we must think of it as a rectification. The person who suffers from tzaras goes through a process of ridding himself of a yetzer hara (not THE yetzer hara, but an active aspect of it) and therefore fixes something spiritually in order to rejoin the nation. Aaron and his sons needed to rectify their spiritual essence to be ready to take on their new roles. This rectification was a transformation that they then passed on to their descendants.

 The kohanim needed an immediate spiritual transformation, but the one suffering from tzaras had to do teshuva in order to undergo this ritual. We may not be able to become Kohanim, obviously, but we can learn the importance of understanding that attaining a spiritual transformation is our ultimate goal. The mefarshim note that the ear represents listening to Hashem, the thumb represents the hand actively performing mitzovs, and the foot represents going forth to do Hashem’s will. One should not wait to fall victim to the yetzer harah but should constantly strive to bring about their own spiritual transformation.

 Wishing you all a beautiful Shabbas.

Parshas Teruma: The Bars of Bitachon

One of the most difficult things to achieve in life is true bitachon. Bitachon means trusting that Hashem is totally in control and that everything that happens to you in life is just as Hashem wanted it. These concepts are easy when we see situations of supreme hashgacha pratis, like being late for a bus that then gets a flat tire so that if you had been on it, you would have actually been late for work. In living regular life, however, bitachon is, for most people, a challenge. And the challenge is, quite often, just a question of self-awareness and thinking about Hashem – something we mortals often forget about.

Recognizing Hashem’s hand in our lives is all about perspective, but getting that perspective takes work. There is heavy spiritual lifting, one might say, because by the very design of this world, Hashem does not want His control, His planning, to seem obvious. Hashem created humankind with an aspiration for success so that we would have a natural instinct to strive for something – and what it is that we strive for is our bechira, our free choice, to choose.

This week’s parsha, Parshas Teruma, is all about the instructions for building the Mishkan. The commentaries argue about the significance of the Mishkan having rings on the feet and rings on the corners (and if this is an accurate understanding of where the rings go) as well as which staves were never removed. But the Meshech Chachmah, as noted in the Sefer Talelei Oros, says: “Ostensibly, the purpose of the poles was to carry the Ark, as the Torah specifically states (25:14), ‘To carry the Ark with them.” Nonetheless, this was all an illusion, as the Talmud (Sotah 35a) tells us, ‘The Ark carried its bearers.’ In actuality, the poles were required because God decreed in His infinite wisdom that the Ark should be carried in a manner which gives the outward but erroneous impression that the bearers are carrying it.”

This is the essence of the challenge of bitachon. We look at life and assume that the successes we see other people achieving are based on something we can calculate and imitate. In fact, their successes…as well as their challenges and their failures… are all suited to their specific neshamos.

One might say that human nature requires us to believe in the power of our own effort. This is true. The part of us that is tied to this world desires a sense of success. Our goal as Jews, however, is to connect our lives to the part of ourselves that is spiritual, and that part of ourselves, the Neshama, is strengthened by seeing Hashem’s hand in everything.

If Hashem determines on Rosh Hashana how much money each person will have in the year to come, why do people feel that if they just stay at the office several hours longer they will become wealthier? This is not to say that it won’t help one become more successful, but one becomes more successful because that was what was meant to happen.

Hashem instructed that the Ark should be carried in such a manner that human effort seemed necessary. Hashem arranged the world so that is seems as if human effort is required. And it is, but not for the reasons we imagine. The hishtadlus we do puts us in the places we need to be and provides us with the opportunities for elevation and connection to Hakadosh Baruch Hu.

Working on bitachon is something we have to do day in and day out – and not without success. Most of us have had moments… but the work is making those moments into our reality. It isn’t easy. It’s a lifetime of effort. Every moment of that effort, however, is step closer to Hashem.

I wish you all a good Shabbas and hatzlacha in all your hishtadlus. May the path to where you need to go be filled with simcha.

Parshas Yisro: Joining a Nation

The beginning of Parshas Yisro describes the arrival of Moshe's father-in-law and his wise advice to Moshe on how to set up a system of courts so as not to be overwhelmed. Hisbwisdom had a profound impact of the burgeoning nation, but Bnei Yisrael also had a profound impact on Yisro.

When Yisro and Moshe are reunited, Yisro states: “Now I know that Hashem is greater than all gods, yes, by the result of their very schemes against [the people]” (Shemos 18:11). This statement, according to the commentaries, describes why Yisro has chosen to convert, to join Bnei Yisrael. It was not the might demonstrated by the plagues or the awe inspired by the splitting of the Sea, but rather the precision of the plagues in their mida for mida (trait for trait) punishment of the Mitzrim.

The understanding that Yisro joined Bnei Yisrael is interesting unto itself, but it is also I threshing that he did not stay with Bnei Yisrael. “Then Moses bade his father-in-law farewell, and he went his way to his own land” (ibid 18:27).

We are all familiar with the discussion that tries to define the Jews. Are we a nation? A religion? A culture? A tribe? And the answer is yes. Each one of these terms has its own decisions and nuances that could be used to describe an aspect of Bnei Yisrael, but none relays a complete description.

This week, I became a Canadian citizen. I did not do so because I saw something inherently good about being Canadian (which, of course, there are things to list), and I was not required to give up anything particular to who I am (dude, multiculturalism!). I became a citizen because I have lived there for 16 years and wanted to vote.

If Yisro wanted to join a nation, he would have stayed. But Yisro was declaring himself part of something bigger. He was giving up his previous life - the gods he had explored, the common beliefs with his neighbors. He was taking on an internal change.

The famous statement made about not being able to stand in the place of a Baal Teshuva is perhaps even more so true of a convert for they are truly casting off the life they had heretofore built. Yisro knows he can't go with Bnei Yisrael, perhaps because of his great age, nevertheless, we know the Yisro, in his core essence, bring Bnei Yisrael with him - and for each of us, in our day to day life, when we are not in our community or our shul or our usual Jewish life routine - need to take this inspiration with us.