Category Archives: Holidays

Real Questions

Posted on April 15, 2011 | Leave a comment

    Imagine your son asks a simple question at the seder, like “why must you have such a long discussion of the Exodus from Egypt?” and you respond: “rasha, evil child, you said ‘why must you have ?’ Does that mean that you are not part of the seder ? You deserve to be shunned, ostracized, and banished from the family, if we don’t knock your teeth out altogether.” And then you tell him how you really feel: “you don’t deserve to be redeemed, if you had been in Egypt, we would have left you behind, you’re just no good.”

     This colloquy must sound familiar to some people – because that is how we treat the “wicked” son. He just asks a simple question – “what is this service to you?” – and he is lambasted for it. But on the surface, it doesn’t seem like such an aggressive, antagonistic, heretical question. He did say lachem (you) – but that is not much different from the “wise” son’s style of questioning, who also said you (etchem). And are we trying to drive away the wicked son, who at least came to the seder ? Shall we assault his dignity –  tell him we will break his teeth, call him an atheist, tell him he wouldn’t have been redeemed?” Why are we so hard on him?
    The whole seder revolves around questions – so how wise is it to rule some questions out of bounds? Undoubtedly – and this has been verified statistically – young Jews have been turned away from a life of Torah because their questions were ridiculed, or dismissed, or not answered – or worse – their questions generated a vicious counterattack on the part of the person question – whether Rabbi, teacher, parent: “Only a heretic would ask such a question!”

    And at the end of the day, that question of the wicked son – “what is this service to you?” – was never answered. So why are we so harsh on this child ?

     Rav Meir Simcha Hakohen of Dvinsk (the Meshech Chochma) explained that the answer can be found in the verses themselves. The Torah emphasizes the “wise” son’s question: “When your son asks you ‘what are these laws and testimonies, etc.’”(Devarim 6:20) Concerning the “simple” son’s query, the Torah relates: “When your son will ask you tomorrow, ‘what is this?” (Shmot 13:14) But the “wicked” son’s question is not really a question: “And it will be that your sons say to you, what is this service to you?’” (Shmot 12:26)

     What a difference! The wise and simple sons ask – and then “leimor,” saying – they anticipate and desire a dialogue, they want an answer. The “wicked” son doesn’t ask – he says. Sure, he puts his statement in the form of a question, like on Jeopardy, but he doesn’t really want an answer. It is “ki yomru”, he says it – and there is no “leimor,” saying – there is no sense that this is a discussion or a dialogue. His mind is already made up. He doesn’t ask – he makes pronouncements.

     A heretic once visited Rav Chaim Brisker and said that he has some questions on Judaism he would like answered. Rav Chaim said to him: “if you really had questions, we could answer them. But you don’t have questions – to you, your questions are really answers. You have teirutzim, not kushyot. You don’t want to observe Mitzvot, so you look for “questions” that for you constitute “answers,” rationalizations for your lifestyle. There is no answer for that.”

     That is why the Hagada says “because he separated from the group, he denied G-d” – not that he denied G-d and then separated from the group. His ideology is b’diavad, post-facto; it just seeks to justify the decisions he has already made.

      There are many people who ask questions – and don’t really want answers. Answers can be very limiting, very inhibiting, and even very challenging. Answers can cause us to re-think, re-evaluate, perhaps admit error, and even sometimes to change. Some people are more comfortable with questions than with answers.

    The true servant of Hashem is not the person without questions – such a person might not be a servant of Hashem at all. The true servant of G-d has questions – and seeks answers. He looks for solutions. With such a child – and adult – we can dialogue, interact, fall and rise together, and embark on the lifelong quest of Torah study. Through such children, Jewish communities are built; and through such communities, the nation redeemed 3333 years ago reminds itself why Hashem chose us, and sanctified us from among all the nations, and prepares itself for our own journey from servitude to redemption, speedily and in our days.

 A happy and kosher Pesach to all !

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Posted in Contemporary Life, Holidays, Machshava/Jewish Thought

The Succa of Leviathan

Posted on September 22, 2010 | 1 Comment

     There is much more to Succot than meets the eye. There is the physical Succa of walls and schach (roofing), the Succot of the four species, the exhilaration of “the season of our rejoicing” and the Succot of the Torah, the commemoration of G-d’s preservation of the Jewish people during our sojourn in the wilderness and beyond.

     But there is also the hidden Succot – another dimension that looms beneath the surface – the Succot of the seventy sacrificial bulls, offered in the Temple on behalf of the nations of the world, and the Succot of the future, when all nations will gather to celebrate Succot in Jerusalem. How do we get from one Succot – the particular celebration of the Jewish people – to the global celebration of Succot ?

    And what exactly do we celebrate ? Succot is the only one of the festivals that does not commemorate a specific event – Pesach celebrates the moment of our national birth, and  Shavuot the revelation of G-d that gave us the Torah. But Succot has no individual event associated with it. So what are we celebrating ?

    And perhaps the greatest mystery of Succos is a Midrash  cited in Yalkut Iyov 927: “R. Levi said: whoever fulfills the mitzva of Succa in this world, G-d will place him in the future in the Succa of Leviathan.” But what is that, and why do we aspire to such a Succa ?

     Leviathan is one of the two creatures singled out by G-d in the book of Iyov as examples of His infinite power and wisdom – behemoth, the enormous land animal, and leviathan, the monster of the sea. To further complicate matters, Leviathan itself has two forms – the nachash bariach, the straight serpent, and nachash akalaton, the coiled serpent, both referenced as well in Isaiah 27 where the prophet states that in the future G-d will unsheathe His mighty sword and kill both. So who and what are these, and why do we want them dead ?

     Rav Shamshon Rafael Hirsch writes in a brilliant essay (Collected Writings, Volume II) that Leviathan represents the forces of evil in the world that are submerged, and yet threaten the stability of mankind again and again. The nachash bariach, the straight serpent, are the nations that rule through brute force and impose their will on mankind directly, through their power, while nachash akalaton, the coiled serpent, are those nations that rule through cunning and manipulation, that achieve their ends through stealth and secrecy. Both are dangerous – and both need to be kept apart.

    “If the two forces ever mated, the whole world would be destroyed” (ibid 926), i.e., if might ever combined with cunning, they would be unstoppable. Built into history is the inability of powerful empires to sustain themselves, because they become impressed with their own might and their own invincibility. And they usually self-destruct.

     It is both depressing and astonishing when we contemplate the persistence of evil in the world. From the time of the primeval serpent until today, the world has not seen a moment’s respite – and especially since the creation of the Jewish people, evil has always had a defined target. Sometimes the enemy’s assault is frontal and sometimes it is circuitous – but it lingers – and our enemies are, usually, the oppressors of others, as well. Even if one evildoer disappears, another appears; even if we think that the world learned a lesson through a spasm of violence and mayhem, the lesson is short-lived. The carnage of World War I – “the war to end all wars” – was a trifle compared to World War II, and the savagery and depth of evil did nothing to prevent the rise of Communist tyrants. And their demise did not thwart the ascension of the despots and terrorists of the Arab and Muslim world. It never ends. And this week’s gathering of despots and tyrants among the free world’s leaders at the UN seemingly underscores that bleak prospect.

    But it does end, and that is the eternal message – the hidden message – of Succot. Rav Lior Engleman notes that, unlike the other holidays, Succot does not commemorate an event, but it celebrates a process, the long road, with all its twists and turns, all of its surprises and dangers – with one constant: the protective hand of G-d. On Succot, we are reminded of the cycle – every day (except Shabbat) we circumambulate the shul, starting and ending at the same point; on Succot, we are judged on the year’s water supply – which is not only a palindrome (mayim in Hebrew) – but also comes to us through nature’s cycle.

    On Succot, we live our normal life and rejoice in the Succa, because there is unlimited joy in our regular lives under the protective wings of the Divine Presence. Whoever can do that in this world – with all the evil lurking around us – the evil of the brutes and the evil of the sophisticates – with all the enemies who wish us ill, and with all the “good” people who make their accommodations with evil – whoever is able to see history as a process, with a beginning and an end and not lose faith – “G-d will seat them in the Succa made from the skin of Leviathan.” When evil is vanquished, and human society – the great Leviathan – is tamed and refined, then the righteous will bask in the Succa made of that fishy substance and become the foundation of a new society dedicated to G-d’s service, when the remaining nations gather to serve G-d in Jerusalem, when He will be One and His name acknowledged as One.

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Posted in Contemporary Life, Current Events, Holidays, Jewish History, Machshava/Jewish Thought

The Individual and the Community

Posted on March 26, 2010 | 4 Comments

    The Korban Pesach is unique in many ways, but none more so than this: it is defined as a private offering, but yet it supersedes Shabbat. In every other circumstance, a private korban does not override Shabbat. So, too, there are occasions when this individual offering will be brought when the offerors are in a state of impurity. In every other case, only a korban tzibur, a public offering overrides Shabbat or impurity. So into what category does the Korban Pesach fit?

     Another question for the seder: the “wicked son” is castigated not for his question but for its implications – “because he ostracizes himself from the Jewish people, he denies the existence of G-d.” But why ? Just because he separates himself from the Jewish people, does that necessarily mean he denies G-d’s existence ? What is the connection ?

     And the Mechilta, citing the wicked son’s question, expounds it in a fascinating way: “‘And when your sons will say to you…’ – There is good news and bad news: the bad news is that there will come a time when your children will forget the Torah; but the good news is – at least you’ll have children and grandchildren.” Two conflicting approaches to one common dilemma: is the wicked son a blessing or a curse, good news or bad news ?

     Rav Zvi Yehuda Kook explained that the Korban Pesach resembles both an individual and communal offering, because it defined for all time the relationship of the individual to the community. The Korban Pesach was a private offering, but it had to be consumed in a group, with others. There is no other mitzva that obligates a person to join with others – that obligates him to create a group and find his spiritual fulfillment in that group. The Korban Pesach inherently had a communal component to it – and therefore, like other public offerings, it superseded both Shabbat and impurity.

       That is a far-reaching concept. Man struggles to find the right balance between the rights of the individual and the rights of the community, between what I can do for myself and what I must do for others. Benjamin Franklin once wrote that “democracy ends the moment the majority realizes it can vote itself money out of the treasury,” certainly a timely message today when the majority is wantonly voting itself and its supporters money out of the federal treasury.  Thomas Jefferson added a similar thought: “A democracy is nothing more than mob rule, where fifty-one percent of the people may take away the rights of the other forty-nine.”

     The Korban Pesach was an individual act that had to be done – on pain of extinction – in the context of the community. Pesach celebrates our creation as a nation, and therefore the most sublime moments take place in the context of that nation/ One who chooses to distance himself from that nation effectively denies the existence of G-d. The Unity of G-d is inextricably linked to the unity of the Jewish people, and, Rav Kook wrote, the fundamental conviction we have as a people is that “He chose us from the nations and gave us His Torah” – and that this community encompasses all Jews, and even the occasional scoundrel. Being part of the Jewish people is not just a functional connection (I am part of ‘something’) – but it is rather an existential connection, part of the inherent definition of our lives.

      “And when your sons will say to you…” There will come a time – and it comes in every generation – when some of our children will say, “what is this service to you”? Sadly, it does not speak to them, and those are bad tidings – that some of our children will forget the Torah. But that knowledge is also accompanied by good tidings that each generation will have Jewish children, and each generation will have the challenge of educating those Jewish children. We worry about the future, and rightly so – but we worry too much, especially about what others are doing or trying to do to us. There is no problem in Jewish life that cannot be resolved by doing the right thing ourselves – by speaking the language of Torah, faith, community, integrity and holiness.

    Then all our children will perceive the wisdom of Torah, and the depth of our commitment – and we will reclaim the spirit of the hosts of Hashem who were redeemed from Egypt 3322 years ago this year, and prepare ourselves for the future, in which we pray, we will soon see the wonders of G-d and His redemptive hand, speedily and in our time.

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Posted in Contemporary Life, Current Events, Holidays, Israel, Jewish History, Machshava/Jewish Thought

Fighting in the Dark

Posted on December 7, 2009 | 2 Comments

     The miracle of Chanuka was astonishing for a number of reasons, but especially because “the few vanquished the many.” The Maccabim prevailed against overwhelming odds. Yehuda’s forces never numbered more than a few thousand, and in the climactic battle he mustered 10,000 soldiers against 60,000 Syrians – and still defeated the enemy.

      The Maccabim were greatly outnumbered, even though they operated in their home territory (where usually the insurgents have a numerical advantage) because they were a minority force even among Jews. It wasn’t just a case of the Hellenist Jews predominating, although that was also true. It was also because most Jews adopted a wait-and-see attitude, in large part because this was the first time the Jews fought while not under the protective guidance of a prophet, and Chanuka is the only festival that post-dates the Bible. In every other war – the prophets led the way: Moshe, Yehoshua, most of the Judges, David, etc. Even when the Jews were not victorious – usually because they disobeyed the prophet or due to other sins – he was at least in the background and a useful resource.

      But now, Jews were in the dark, literally. Faced with the occupation of our land by the world power, who knew what to do and which paradigm to follow? How could they decide, and what guarantee did they have that the decision was correct ? These questions plagued the Jews of that era, as indeed they trouble us today. To fight, to compromise, to surrender ? To look for allies, or to fight alone ? To seek the support of the majority who may not be imbued with a national or Torah spirit, or to go it alone – a few radicals leading a bunch of sluggards ? How do we decide ? How did they decide ? In Rav Shlomo Aviner’s phrase, what is the proper balance between faith and realism ?

    That question really frames the issue, and in a sense, defines the challenge of Chanuka. Realism dictated that the Maccabim could not defeat the mighty Syrian empire, that the few could not defeat the many – that all the advantages lay with the conqueror, the most powerful empire in the world. But realism would also dictate that the Jews would never leave Egypt, and never conquer the land of Israel, that David could not slay Goliath (it was possible, but the smart money was still on Goliath), never return to the land of Israel, and not be able to retain it today with the international community allied against Jewish nationalism.

     Often, a non-Jew gives us a clearer insight than we could derive ourselves. The famous Italian philosopher, Giambattista Vico, wrote the first philosophy of history in the early 1700’s, called the “New Science about the Common Nature of Nations.” His theory was that nations are like individuals – nations go through infancy, youth, mature, grow old, decay and disappear. All nations suffer this fate, and it is easier to track the ebb and flow of nations than of individuals, whose choices can take them out of the realm of the predictable.  But Vico acknowledged, in 1725, that one nation does not fit the pattern – the Jews. The Jews, he wrote, were an “exceptional people,” who are the beneficiaries of “extraordinary help from the true G-d.” Jewish history is moved by holy forces, not simply political ones.

      And that is the lesson of Chanuka and the motivation of the majestic men of Modiin. It is the idea, post-Biblical times, on which we thrive or stumble. It is easy to have faith when everything is spelled out in the Torah, and the word of G-d reaches us through his prophets – and we know clearly why we win when we win, and why we lose when we lose. That faith is a theoretical one. Yehuda knew what we needed was practical faith, taking that notion out of the books on the shelves of the Bet Midrash – out of the realm of the theoretical and implementing it in our world view, our conduct – as individuals and as a nation. Our realism includes faith; that is to say, it must include awareness of our exceptionalism. We may ignore that too frequently, but we ignore it at our peril.

      This was the miracle of Chanuka, and the eternal lesson of Chanuka in every generation – that we never despair, that even at the darkest moments the miracle of light is near, and we look for the mysterious cruse of oil that suddenly materializes, and heralds the immanence of G-d.

       As a military victory, the triumph of Chanuka was short-lived. But as a clarion call to faith,  to the hand of G-d that is as real to us as anything material, to be active in defense of Torah and the land of Israel – then the wars of the Chashmonaim inspire us until today – in their dedication, in their tenacity, in their faith, and in the miracles they experienced, in those days in this season.

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Posted in Current Events, Holidays, Jewish History