Parshas Yisro- Sent Away

 What can we learn from the Torah? Yeah, that seems like a bit of a trick question since the answer, from a hashgachic point of view, is everything. The Torah teaches us mishpatim and mo’adim and chukim. The Torah provides us with an understanding of our ancestry, our peoplehood, and our goals as a nation. But the Torah also teaches us about people and about relationships, and, in those relationships, there is almost always a lesson about our relationship with HaKadosh Baruch Hu.

 At the beginning of this week’s parsha, Parshas Yisro, there is quick mention of Moshe’s wife, when it is stated that “So Jethro, Moshe’ father-in-law, took Zipporah, Moshe’ wife, after she had been sent home” (Shemos 18:2). It’s an interesting pair of words that ends the pasuk: Achar Shiloocheyha. After he sent her away.

 One could wonder at the relationship of Moshe and Tziporah. The term has a disturbing sense of rejection to it. Of course, the Midrashim tell us that Tzipora returned to her father’s household before Moshe entered Egypt because Aaron pointed out that Moshe erred in bringing them into the terrible situation of the Egyptian enslavement. Once this was pointed out, Moshe did not hesitate to send them back to her father’s house.

 The language, however, has weight to it. Why doesn’t the Torah say that Yisro took Tziporah, Moshe’s wife who was residing with him, who had returned to him, whom he had protected, etc. Rather, it very specifically puts that onus of their separation on an action of Moshe’s.

 Before one jumps to the conclusion that this infers chastisement, let us read even further into this word choice. Everything in the Torah is a metaphor for living life as part of the Jewish nation, and we often talk about klal Yisrael as the bride of Hashem. As it says in Yeshaya 62:5: “And as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride,/So will your God rejoice over you.”

 It is easy, almost obvious, to think of sending someone away as rejection – until one knows the deeper sequence of events. Moshe sent Tziporah away to protect her, to keep her and their young sons from the many layers of danger in Mitzrayim. We, the beloved Jewish people, have also been sent away, and this too, while we can’t understand it, is to protect us from dangers.

 In this week’s parsha, Tzipporah is reunited with her husband just before the nation arrives at Horeb and Moshe goes up the mountain to receive the Torah. The giving of the Torah unified the people. In the days to come, it will be time for God’s bride to be brought back so that the Torah can once again fill the land and our souls.

 Hoping this made sense. Good Shabbas to all.

Parshas Yisro: Seeing Humanity

This week’s parsha, Parshas Yisro, contains what could be consider the foundation stone – well, stones, really - of Jewish law. The Aseres Hadibros, also known as the Ten Commandments, are delivered to the Jewish people at Har Sinai. On the surface, the Aseres Hadibros seem like easy-to-follow basic rules of society, and they are, except that each of the Ten Commandments is a path to a multitude of other halachos that shape the Jewish nation.

It is fair to say that most people would agree that laws are good, that they are important, and that they are applied on every level of society. In our homes we have rules, and we expect those rules to be followed. Interestingly, however, the entire history of the Jewish people - of humanity, in fact – seems to be a never ending serious of people not listening to the rules.

So lets think about the importance of breaking rules. One of the most essential distinctions of human life is bechira, free will. Bechira is the human ability to actively choose our  path in the world, and this means breaking rules. We need bechira because if we didn’t have the capacity to break rules, then the rules would be meaningless.

What is particularly interesting is that in this week’s parsha one could see a far more subtle fact: Hashem almost expects people to make the wrong choices. Hashem knows how great the yetzer harah, the inclination to do the wrong thing, is, and this is subtly alluded to just before the delivery of the Aseres Hadibros.

 In Shemos 19:21-22, Hashem tells Moshe to descend to the people and warn them not to come forward to try to see Him. He even specifies that the priests, who at this stage were the bachorim (firstborn), must guard themselves as well.

 This is where the text takes an interesting little blip. Moshe responds to Hashem by saying “The people cannot ascend Mount Sinai, for You have warned us, saying, ‘Make a boundary around the mountain and sanctify it.’” Hashem warns against the people surging forward in a desire to see what is occurring, and Moshe basically responds with the naivety of a proud parent who believes their child would never do anything wrong.  Even with all of his experience as to the willfulness of Bnei Yisrael, which he had a taste of in Mitzrayim (though far more was yet to come!) and his direct witnessing of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, Moshe firmly believes that the boundary he set up around the mountain is enough.

 Hashem, however, is wise to the ways of mankind. Afterall, the very first humans, the very first creations to whom He gave bechira, almost immediately made the wrong choice. And, in thinking about it, there are some fascinating parallels here.

 The tree from which Adam and Chava were told not to eat was the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad. Rabbi Immanuel Bernstein on the ou.org website notes a fascinating commentary by the Meshech Chachma:

[The Mechech Chachma] explains that the snake was not trying to convince Chava that she would not die if she ate from the tree, contrary to what Hashem had said. Rather, he was arguing that if she and Adam truly valued closeness to Hashem, then they should be prepared to do anything that would bring that closeness about, even if it meant that they would die! Since eating from the tree would make them more Godlike in the sense of knowing good and evil, they should be prepared to do it even if it required them give up their lives…

 Har Sinai could be seen as a parallel to the Eitz HaDaas. Bnei Yisrael were about to receive a new level of wisdom and understanding of the world. How great and ultimately fulfilling it would be to get even closer during this process.

 Hashem understood, as proven by Chava, that a general warning  - and even a simple barrier – was not enough. So Hashem told Moshe: “Go, descend. Then you must ascend, Aaron with you; but let not the priests or the people break through to come up to Hashem, lest [God] break out against them” (19:24).

 Hashem told Moshe to go down right then and announce the prohibition of ascending another time. By doing so, Moshe was re-enforcing that barrier and the previously stated prohibition. The fact that Moshe came down the mountain JUST to remind them of the danger they were in lest they breech that barrier was another layer of protection because it emphasized how serious Hashem was.

 At Har Sinai, Bnei Yisrael accepted upon ourselves a very great responsibility. We showed our love for Hashem by jumping forth to accept the yoke of Torah. Hashem has great expectations for us, but Hashem is also not naïve as all humans are. He recognizes our vulnerabilities and our fallibilities, and that is why Hashem is truly the ultimate Melech Hamalchim.

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.

Parshas Yisro: Outside Advice

 The modern insularity of the traditional Jewish community is fascinating on many sociological levels. As pure as we often declare ourselves, there are not a few ways in which the outside world has influenced our traditional life, although we have often created weighty dispositions on why these are acceptable. Lengthy, indeed unending, debates could be had over whether this is good or bad, and why it is that in our most recent eras the Jewish people have become particularly wary of outside influence. At the same time, it is important to be honest with ourselves and recognize that sometimes good things come from unexpected places.

 This week, we read about Yisro, the father-in-law of Moshe. Yisro was a man of great accomplishment who was seen as a leader among his own people. According to the Midrash, he was once an advisor to Pharaoh and he was a man who had explored every system of faith that then existed. In the Torah itself, he is listed as a priest of Midian (Shemos 2:18). This man, this foreigner who worshiped an array of false beliefs, is named seven times in the first perek of this week’s parsha and referenced as Moshe/his father-in-law without his name another seven times. For those familiar with the idea that the Torah does not waste words, that is an exceptional number of mentions. Even more so, the entire parsha is called in his name.

 Yisro is best known for advising Moshe to set up a system of judges and not to bear the burden of administrating Klal Yisrael by himself. He came to Moshe, bringing Moshe’s wife Tzipora and their two sons, in the time between the crossing of the Yam Suf and the arrival of Bnei Yisrael at Sinai. Their reunion appears to have been one of great fanfare, with Moshe lavishing attention upon his father-in-law. During this time, Moshe recounts all that has happened and Yisro praises Hashem and acknowledges His power. The next day, Yisro witnesses how Moshe single-handedly sits as magistrate settling disputes among the people. Yisro’s great advice is to set up a layered system of judges so that Moshe only has to deal with the most difficult of cases, leaving him time for all of his other responsibilities.

 To be honest, and perhaps the perspective is warped by having lived in a society built upon the foundations of biblical law, this does not seem like some sort of particularly brilliant, unfathomable idea. Certainly, great empires, and even smaller fiefdoms of the time, had hierarchical systems. So why does the Torah make such a big deal about Yisro’s suggestion?

 There are several layers of answers. While it may not have been a unique concept in the world, it was advice from which all of Klal Yisrael benefitted, and for this reason it would be worth mentioning. Another reason so many pasukim are dedicated to this topic is as a lesson of hakaras hatov, recognizing the good; It is a reward for Yisro for the good that he did for Klal Yisrael.

 It might be, however, that Hashem wanted there to be a written record of how Klal Yisrael can benefit from others. Although the Midrash tells us that Yisro converted to Judaism, this is as yet to come. It is obvious that he has great sympathy for the Israelites, especially after hearing the details of their journey and the miraculous feats that brought them out of Mitzrayim. Yisro makes his suggestion to Moshe without any motive other than to benefit Moshe and Klal Yisrael, and his system is implemented even before the Jewish people receive the Ten Commandments at Har Sinai.

After centuries of persecution, the modern Jewish community is often loathe to let other people into their world. There are good reasons for this, especially in a time when so many popular mores and morals are antithetical to basic Torah values. From Parshas Yisro, however, we are given a clear message that good advice can come from without just as much as from within, and indeed, sometimes it takes an outside point of view to help us see our challenges.

 

This Dvar Torah is dedicated for. a refuah shelaims for Rivka bas Golda and liluy NIshmas Dovid Chaim ben Shmuel Yosef Hacohen

To Be a Goy Kadosh (extra post for Yisro)

One of the most powerful and beautiful injunctions in the Torah is the commandment to the Jewish people to be a goy kadosh, a holy nation. With such weight put to this singular role, it is surprising to look, analyze, and assess the transformation of the word goy from a general term for a nation to a word that our children are indoctrinated to immediately associate with others, with outsiders, with people who are lesser.

This Dvar Torah was actually started months ago, when a child, not my own, made a derogatory comment about goyim and was unable to accept or process the fact that the term goy, in its pure, original meaning, could be used for the Jewish people just as much as for the rest of the world. I apologize now for those who will find my language demanding or hashkafically challenged. This is truly me sharing from my heart.

In teaching our children to disparage, to hate or disdain, "the goyim," we are doing terrible damage to ourselves. Hashem literally instructs us, just before giving us His greatest gift, to “be a mamlechas cohanim and a goy kadosh.” Hashem is appointing us an incredible opportunity! We are a nation chosen to be able to connect with the divine and to represent Hashem’s greatness in the world. Why does this need to be done at the expense of others?

When we build ourselves up only by putting others down, we are actually making ourselves so much smaller. Of course, we have a necessity to keep ourselves separate, to secure the neshamos of our children and the precious gift of the Torah that is our inheritance. Without question we do not want our children emulating the outside world - but when you tell them how lowly the goyim are and then they meet fine, upstanding people, what does this say about our own perception of others who are also Betzelem Elokim... and then we wonder why children won't behave properly for their non-Jewish teachers! Certainly, we have been forewarned that the other nations will persecute us, but they are persecuting us at God’s will for our aveiros, so their persecution - when it is real and not simply perceived - is not an excuse to hold our heads higher and speak ill of them, but rather it is a means for us to check our egos and realign ourselves with our mission.

When we look at the world, we have to stop seeing and thinking in terms of us versus them, that's not the world Hashem wanted us to build. He gave us the Torah so that we have the power of creating a society with us leading them, showing them the way to being ovdei Hashem.

When we read Parshas Yisro we look at the amazing words of the Aserest Hadibros, and we see the foundation steps to building a moral civilization. That’s not a civilization just for us, but Hashem’s goal for all of the world. Let us strive to live up to our roles in the greater world by focusing on our beauty, our grandeur, and our responsibility, and the rest of the world as the creations of Hashem whom we need to inspire.

National Purpose (Yisro #2)

What is your purpose in life? We all have our own answers to this question, both broad answers - such as being an aved Hashem (a servant of God) - and more focused answers - such as, perhaps, writing the great American novel. But the reality is that we all find ourselves wondering about our purpose as we, and it, change throughout our lifetimes.

Wanting to understand why we are here and what we should be aiming for is an integral part of human nature. When we don't know our purpose, we risk wandering aimlessly. This is true of individuals and of collective groups of nations such as Klal Yisrael.

Stuck in slavery, the Hebrews were not able to think about their ultimate purpose. They knew, however, that their identity as Bnei Yisrael meant that they had a destiny, that they were meant to be more than slaves. They called out to God, and He sent Moshe to lead them out of slavery and to save them from the Egyptians and the initial perils of the wilderness (the need for food, water, etc). When they arrived at the wilderness at Sinai, Hashem knew that now that their worries of freedom and survival were behind them that they would start to think about their purpose and their goals. Now, therefore, was the time to set before them the Torah, the laws by which He expected them to lead their lives. Before He began transmitting the Aseres Hadibros (Ten Commandments), before He even asked Bnei Yisrael if they would accept His laws, Hashem told Moshe and Aharon to tell Bnei Yisrael what He desires their purpose to be: "And you shall be to Me a ממלכת כהנים kingdom of priests and גוי קדושׁ a holy nation" (19:6).

Accepting the Torah means accepting this eternal purpose for our existence as a people. The two work together. Our purpose is to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, and the framework of what we need to do to accomplish this is laid out in the Torah. The laws of the Torah empower us to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.
One might ask, and many commentators do ask, why two different terms are used. One common opinion (e.g. Ramban) is that being a ממלכת כהנים, a nation of priests, is our purpose for Olam Hazeh, because in this world we can be to the world like our kohanim are to Am Yisrael - we can teach and guide and provide avodah to Hashem; while being a גוי קדושׁ, a holy nation, is for Olam Habah, for the next world, since being kadosh is more passive than active.

One could also look at the dual terminology as guidelines for our outer world and our inner world. When dealing with the world at large, we must strive to be a ממלכת כהנים, a kingdom of priests. The term ממלכת (kingdom) is very interesting. It is generally understood that the term melech (king) implies a leader whom the people wish to have rule (as opposed to a moshel, which is a leader who comes to rule because of his power). Perhaps the goal of being a ממלכת כהנים is that the people of the the world will want to look to the Jewish people to represent them in serving Hakodesh Baruch Hu. The only way this happens, however, is by making certain that our inner world is a גוי קדושׁ, a holy nation.

Goy Kadosh is also an interesting term. We generally translate kadosh as holy because it seems the easiest word to use, but often a more accurate translation would be sanctified, a word that implies being set aside for God. That could lead one to think that the ideal is for Bnei Yisrael to be set aside, to isolate themselves in pursuit of kedusha, but Hashem ties kadosh to the word goy - a nation or people, which is a term that can apply to every nation. It is, perhaps, a subtle reminder that being kadosh in Judaism means being connected to the world. We cannot be a goy kadosh without recognizing ourselves among the goyim of the world.

Rabbeinu Bachya also points out that the word גוי can be understood as being possessive and that the term could be translated as “a nation that belongs to the Holy One.” Adding yet another layer to the already rich meaning of this pasuk. Being titled a ממלכת כהנים could give Bnei Yisrael an arrogance to think that they are superior to the world, but Hashem immediately reminds them that what now sets them apart is their relationship to Him, not their relationship to other nations.

Parshas Yisro is the parsha during which we recall the moments when we became the “Chosen People,” but perhaps these multi-faceted reflections on what it means to be a ממלכת כהנים and a גוי קדושׁ (a kingdom of priests and a holy nation) will provide us with some further ideas to think about as we strive toward fulfilling our individual purposes and our national goals.

To read last year’s post on Parshas Yisro, please click here: https://cthedawn.blogspot.com/…/better-watch-boundaries.html

Better Watch the Boundaries (Yisro)

Today I would like to discuss boundaries – not the controversial type like the border wall, but the more personal ones that we build in our lives. From a Jewish perspective, our traditions are full of gedarim, boundaries created to protect halacha. As a parent, I have read a lot about the importance of parentally established boundaries for our children, and this really is true for adults as well. Boundaries help us thrive.
In this week’s parsha, as Bnei Yisrael arrived at Mount Sinai, Hashem provided Moses with instructions for how the people were to prepare themselves to receive the Torah. One of the primary instructions God gave to Moshe was: “You shall set bounds for the people round about, saying, ‘Beware of going up the mountain or touching the border of it. Whoever touches the mountain shall be put to death” (Shemos 19:12). Moshe does so, and the people and the kohanim began their preparations. When Moshe then went up the mountain, God repeated this prohibition: “Go down, warn the people not to break through to the Lord to gaze, lest many of them perish” (ibid. 19:21). In response, Moshe says to the Lord, “The people cannot come up to Mount Sinai, for You warned us saying, ‘Set bounds about the mountain and sanctify it.’” So the Lord said to him, “Go down, and come back together with Aaron; but let not the priests or the people break through to come up to the Lord, lest He break out against them” (ibid. 19:23-24).
The instructions for creating a boundary are well known, but I was intrigued by the particular details of the prohibition: “Beware of going up the mountain or touching the border of it” (19:12). Perhaps it was the specification of making certain not to touch even the boundaries, but these words made me think of the story of the Eitz Hadas, the Tree of Knowledge. Hashem told Adam not to eat from the tree, Eve believed that she was not allowed to eat or touch the tree and the snake deceived her by showing her that she could touch the tree. This, of course, led to the rest of the story and humankind’s banishment from the Garden of Eden.
These two boundaries mark, in some way, the beginning point of two epochs. The transmission of the Torah to the Children of Israel was the beginning of the era of focused kedusha, when God assigned the Children of Israel with the task of bringing His kedusha to the world. Before that was the era of Adam, a time when all of humankind was living through the repercussions of a wrong choice (eating the fruit) that prevented the Messianic Age, for if Adam and Chava had not eaten from the Tree of Knowledge, the world would have immediately entered an ideal state.
In Parshas Yisro, on the verge of this new era, Hashem provides and reinforces more explicit directions about what not to do. And when Moshe argues that the people understand, Hashem insists that they be repeated.
I found this possible connection an interesting thing to contemplate in light of the time in which we live. In Western societies, boundaries of all types are being ignored, argued, or dissolved. In my opinion, there has been a general degradation in respect for authorities. Our boundaries of public and private have been diminished by the ever-going present social media. Alexas and Google-dots have been brought into people’s homes and there is much discussion about exactly how much control one can have of one’s privacy with these seemingly innocent AI’s in our homes. Maintaining boundaries is harder than ever.
Parshas Yisro is the parsha of the giving of the Torah, the ultimate rule book. Perhaps from this interaction of Hashem and Moshe, when Hashem reiterates his instructions even after Moshe argues that the people understand not to go up the mountain, we can be reminded of the importance of reviewing the boundaries in our own lives.