Category Archives: Chumash

Torah Illuminations

Posted on November 19, 2010 | Comments Off on Torah Illuminations

    How often does the weekly Torah reading illuminate our current events ? Just about every week, and none more so than this week.

     In Parshat Vayishlach, the Torah relates that as Yaakov prepared for his fateful encounter with his estranged brother Esav, “Yaakov (Jacob) became very frightened, and it distressed him” (Breisheet 32:8). What petrified him ? Rashi (11th century) comments: He was “very frightened,” lest Esav kill him, and “distressed,” lest he have to kill others. Leaving aside the obvious fear that Esav would kill Yaakov, notwithstanding G-d’s promise to protect Yaakov from all harm (perhaps that did not apply to Yaakov’s family), why would Yaakov be distressed lest he have to kill others ? The Torah posits, and Jewish law prescribes (Talmud, Sanhedrin 72a), that “if one comes to kill you, arise preemptively and kill him first” ? If Yaakov successfully repulsed his attackers, even struck them before they could attack him, he has followed the Torah’s dictates precisely. Why should that be cause for distress ? It sounds almost …liberal, reminiscent, in fact, of Golda Meir’s lament that she can forgive the Arabs for killing our soldiers, but not forgive them for forcing our soldiers to kill them. Was she right ?

    Rav Yaakov Ariel, esteemed Chief Rabbi of Ramat Gan, cited the opinions of two commentators who lived less than a century apart, whose wisdom transcends their generation. The Maharal (Prague, 16-17th centuries) explains that Yaakov was aggrieved that he might have to kill others – either combatants forced into this struggle against their will or non-combatants that are unfortunately killed in every war. These are people who bad fortune causes them to be situated too close to the hostilities. Yaakov was troubled that he would be forced to do this.

    R. Eliyahu Mizrachi (Turkey, 16-17th centuries) suggests that Yaakov was anxious for another reason. Granted that the Torah permits – even mandates – self-defense in the face of an aggressor. But this only applies to the victim himself. Regarding the threat to the lives of others – his family, for example – the Torah deems the aggressor a rodef, a pursuer who can be stopped at the cost of his life. But, Jewish law dictates that if it is possible to deter such a rodef through merely injuring him, then it is forbidden to kill him. What distressed Yaakov was that he might be guilty of using “excessive force” in battle, and killing pursuers that he could have stopped through less drastic means.

    How interesting ! The twin arguments used primarily against Israel in order to induce guilt in the exercise of their natural right of self-defense – “the death of innocent civilians and the use of excessive force,” both staples of the Goldstone Report and every contrived reaction to any act of self-defense on Israel’s part – were both foreshadowed by biblical commentators half a millennium ago and augured in Yaakov’s encounter with Esav 3½ millennia ago. Yaakov shared these same concerns that confront his descendants today. And how did he respond, notwithstanding these concerns ? He prepared for war, engaged in diplomacy, and prayed to G-d.

    The fact that innocent (or not-so-innocent) civilians would be killed in battle or that Yaakov might have to employ “excessive force” to defend his family left him feeling distressed – a natural and most human reaction of an ethical person – but did not at all inhibit his preparations for war, and his conduct of that war (if he had been called on to fight). Yaakov recognized the sad but inevitable reality that people die in war, even innocent people, and that the victor usually uses excessive force (that is why he prevails). We can be distressed by it – but that is the nature of war, and the greater immorality is to be defeated by evildoers because our ethical misgivings about the conduct of war. The enemy, of course, recognizes that, exploits it, and would love to have us wallow in our sensitivities (as in Golda Meir’s statement above). It is a case of “sorry, but we have no choice.”

   The Torah portion also describes Yaakov’s preparations to meet his brother, in an effort to mollify him, involving acts of obeisance that were often utilized by subsequent generations in dealing with our adversaries. But at least Yaakov knew with whom he was dealing; do we ?

      That is to say, when will Secretary of State Hillary Clinton get the “Jim Baker” treatment ? Baker, who served as President Bush’s (41) Secretary of State, was lambasted – properly so – as a Jew hater and worse for his contemptuous treatment of Israel and American Jews, famously (and publicly) telling the former to call the White House operator when they are “serious about peace,” and suggesting the latter perform an anatomically impossible act because “they don’t vote for us anyway.” But at least Baker had the decency not to hide his contempt.

     Hillary Clinton – female, liberal Democrat that she is – has somehow dodged these accusations, even though she – and her boss – have publicly humiliated Israel’s Prime Minister on several occasions and continues to treat him as if he heads a banana republic (which, to his eternal shame, he seems to enjoy). The threats, the demands, the public opposition to Israel’s building in YESHA and the lack of sympathy for Israel’s security concerns likely exceed anything Baker ever said or did – but Hillary gets a free ride. When will Jews wake up ? Hillary Clinton is a faithful servant of her president, and her own husband’s repudiation of Netanyahu in the prime minister’s first term in office does not herald well for US-Israel relations in the near future. Clearly, she is pursuing a similar policy goal as did Bill Clinton – get Netanyahu out of power so a more malleable leader can take over – and clearly Netanyahu is repeating the same mistakes, thinking he can sweet-talk Americans and deceive Israelis at the same time.

   Yaakov’s deference to Esav was calculated, as he had certain policy goals in mind that he wished to achieve – survival and then separation. He was successful, because for Yaakov, obsequiousness was a tactic and not a personality. Does Netanyahu have articulated policy goals in mind, or he is being seduced by empty promises that will not at all benefit Israel in the long or short term ?

    We can only pray – as Yaakov also did – for a return of Jewish sense and pride, honesty in evaluating who are friends and who are adversaries, courage and knowledge. And for that guidance, we are blessed with our Torah, eternally holy and eternally relevant.

Comments Off on Torah Illuminations

Posted in Chumash, Contemporary Life, Current Events, Israel

The Range of Prophecy

Posted on May 25, 2010 | Comments Off on The Range of Prophecy

      The Torah highlights for us Moshe’s greatness, and even construes it as an article of faith. Hashem explains to Miriam and Aharon: “If there are prophets among you, I make Myself known to them in a vision or in a dream. Not so My servant Moshe, who is trusted in My entire house. I speak to him mouth to mouth in a clear vision without riddles” (Bamidbar 12:6-8).  Hashem’s message to Moshe is direct, unimpeded, and unambiguous – and no other prophet had or will ever have such a relationship.

     In fact, this principle is one of the fundamental concepts of the Jewish people – that no prophet is like Moshe and no prophecy is like Moshe’s. It is the seventh principle of the Rambam – that Moshe is the master of all prophets, and that all others are inferior to him. We maintain that G-d communicated with Moshe b’aspaklaria hame’ira, with a crystal clear vision, but to other prophets b’aspaklaria she’enena me’ira, with a visualization that was cloudy, opaque, and unclear.

     That was Moshe’s greatness. The question is: why is this important ? How does it affect our lives whether or not Moshe was the greatest prophet? Who keeps score ? Why should this be a fundamental tenet of Judaism ? And what is an aspaklaria hame’ira, the clearest mental picture attainable ?

     Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook zt”l explained (Orot 121) that there is a difference between Moshe’s prophecy and that of other prophets, and this distinction affects us greatly until today. The other prophets only spoke of ideals, principles, values, and strivings – of justice and righteousness and kindness. They reinforced to the Jews again and again the basic norms of decent behavior, the foundation of the entire Torah. They never admonished the people for not keeping Shabbat or Kashrut – but for not being good people, or for not being conscious of G-d’s presence. The prophets were not allowed to innovate in halacha, or to tamper with, deviate or supplement the Torah.

     Their vision was of ideals and generalities, but nothing specific. It was a vision b’aspaklaria she’enena me’ira.

     Moshe’s prophecy was b’aspaklaria hame’ira. He transmitted to us not only the ideals of Torah, but also specifically how those ideals are translated into practical behavior. Moshe spoke not only of justice in the abstract, but also how the particulars of every mitzva produce a just person; he taught not only of the imperative of kindness, but also how the details of each mitzva help fashion the kind personality. Moshe taught us how each mitzva translates the theoretical into the practical – and that is why his prophecy was unique, and itself one of the thirteen cardinal principles of the Jewish faith.

     Moshe saw the entirety of Hashem’s message b’aspaklaria hame’ira, with a clear lens. He perceived both the particulars and the principles as one. The prophetic vision can only complement Torat Moshe; it cannot add to it intrinsically.

     Certainly, this is no denigration of the prophets of Israel. Indeed, the particulars of Moshe’s Torah – the Mitzvot – are wasted on and easily corrupted by those who observe them without reference to the prophetic vision. And clearly those who speak in the lofty and exalted terms of the prophets while divorced from the mitzvot of Torat Moshe have emasculated the Torah and essentially created another religion.

     Both visions form the composite Jewish experience. And yet, both currents today inhabit two different worlds. We are confronted by a Jewish world that, at one end, ignores halacha as not germane to modern life, or, at the other end, is wrapped up compulsively in issues of kosher wigs, kosher water and wormy fish, and the like, that, notwithstanding that it reflects a lack of sophistication about the world (and even a very narrow view of halacha), but is almost designed to make us look peculiar in the eyes of our contemporaries. “You shall safeguard and perform the mitzvot, for they are your wisdom and discernment in the eyes of the nations, who will hear of these decrees and shall say about you ‘Surely a wise and discerning people is this great nation’” (Devarim 4:6). Unfortunately, few people who read of current events in the Jewish world will be moved to exclaim ‘Surely a wise and discerning people is this great nation’. (When the facts remain the same and only the halacha purports to change, something more than sober analysis is afoot.) Much has been lost in the synthesis of Torat Moshe and the vision of our prophets.

      We witness some of this dissonance every week. Although prophecy ceased some 24 centuries ago, the words of the prophets ring true until today. They are not written on the subway walls, but read in shul – the weekly haftara. Yet, some of us are so unmoved by them that we literally walk out on them every Shabbat. We may tolerate Torat Moshe – the details of the mitzvot – but we cannot bear to hear the words of the prophets. They do not speak to us, and, like some other mitzvot, often do not remind us of Hashem or evoke a spiritual response. Thus, some may be quite diligent in uttering the correct blessing at Kiddush, or make sure not to turn on the TV on Shabbat, or support Israel generously  – but the whole framework of the Jewish experience simply does not resonate. And that is most unfortunate.

     Conversely, the world – even part of our world – is filled with spiritual seekers, people trying to get in touch with G-d, their soul, something beyond the physical. That is why kabbala and the New Age and all that other stuff are so popular. They may not know where to look, but at least they are looking; many of us are not even looking anymore. We are content to keep the Indians out of our hair and the bugs out of our water, recite the appropriate prayer formulas by rote, and that is our divine service.

     Even worse, parents worry about their children “flipping” in Israel. Many witness the spiritual apathy of teenagers, who, for a time will stop going to shul or observing some of the mitzvot – and wonder what will become of them. They may even pray that their children learn to just go through the motions – “just show up, say the words, bind the tefillin unthinkingly, and move on” ! Like “I” do.

     Then, after a year in Israel where a child sees the holistic, fully-integrated system of Torah, and for the first time actually feels a closeness with Hashem, the parents will often wonder what has become of their child. By the same token, the child begins to wonder why his/her parents attend shul primarily for social reasons – to visit and chat with friends – or because of social conventions – it is what Jews do on Shabbat. They feel estranged from their elders who are going through the motions and observe the Mitzvot out of habit and routine, and may even feel spiritually empty. In shul, while the child is talking to Hashem, the parents are oblivious to Hashem and talking to their friends. So, who is really “flipped” ?

     Rav Kook wrote that in the end of days, there will be a return of the light of the prophets and then a hatred of the details will prevail – the details which simple people feel hampers their ability to serve Hashem, and which frum people often feel constitutes the totality of their service of Hashem.

     We are seeing that today – as a prelude to the return of the spirit of Moshe that infuses every particular of halacha with not just a behavioral component but also with its profound spiritual essence. People will see the inner beauty of the mitzva, and we will coalesce the vision of the prophets with the vision of Moshe. We will be able to view the Torah itself b’aspaklaria hame’ira.

     Not all of us can do that today. Some of us may be spiritually burnt out and feel spiritually ice cold. But ice cold is not dead. The embers burn deep within every Jew, and only need to be ignited. We already have the great gift – the Torah. “For I have given you a precious gift…” (Mishlei 4:2). We already have the mitzvot;  we only need to bring them alive, appreciate them, embrace them with fervor and enthusiasm – daven, learn, serve G-d, do chesed as befits us as serious Jews – and a thirsty world will turn to us yearningly, with respect and reverence, for the spiritual guidance that it craves.

     That is our legacy from Moshe. Only Moshe’s prophecy could transmit to us such a system. Only through appreciating it in its fullness will we merit the true joy of the present and the glories of the future. Only then will we be receptive to and worthy of welcoming the divine presence into our midst, speedily and in our days.

Comments Off on The Range of Prophecy

Posted in Chumash, Contemporary Life, Current Events, Machshava/Jewish Thought

Prayer

Posted on January 20, 2010 | Comments Off on Prayer

      Prayer is a daily obligation of every Jew, and therefore can become a most difficult endeavor. The dangers of insincere, lackadaisical or rote prayer are known to all – it was known in the time of the Talmud as well – and the struggle to maintain one’s sharpness or enthusiasm in prayer is constant. Too many people typically perceive prayer as a last resort, as something you do when all else has failed, as something you do when you want or need something – the province of the weak and the desperate. But that is only one – and a very narrow dimension – of prayer.

       Hundreds gathered at the Kotel in August for a prayer rally in support of Gilad Schalit, the captured Israeli soldier held by Hamas in defiance of international law and on the occasion of his 23rd birthday. There really is only one happy ending to his saga that I pray for daily: that he be rescued alive and all his captors killed. There is no other happy ending possible. Interviewed at the Kotel, Noam Schalit, father of Gilad, was quoted as saying: “We are not optimistic. If we were optimistic, we would not have come to pray.”

        I certainly have no intention of criticizing him, whose pain is intense and unimaginable. He was speaking off the cuff, and under great stress, and might have been misquoted. And I mention his statement only because it reveals an approach to prayer that many of us might share – prayer as the last resort, as asking for things, as making requests – and nothing more. It literally reflects the English word “prayer,” meaning “beg,” and was the type of prayer that the ancient Egyptian Pharaoh beseeched Moshe after several of the plagues: “Beseech G-d for me.” And immediately after Moshe did so, Pharaoh reverted to his hard-heartedness.  

      Making requests of G-d is a type of prayer and perfectly appropriate – but not what we would call tefila. And if requests (or demands) of G-d are the sum and substance of our worship, then such an experience can easily leave us desiccated and disappointed, frustrated and flustered, bigheaded and bored with the entire process. It is not always about us.

      I was chatting recently with a high school administrator about the well known difficulties of tefila among high school youth. They are bored and bewildered by the whole experience, and every school labors to find the right mechanism to inspire their students. He deduced that too many people pray – even come to synagogue – for two bad reasons: coercion and guilt. Some are forced to (as in high school, or in the case of adults who want to be part of a community or social group for which one price of admission is weekly attendance at synagogue). Others feel guilty not doing it. He related to me that when he was 20 years old, he was learning in shul before Mincha on Yom Kippur when an older man walked up to him, expressing surprise that he was learning just for the sake of learning – and said that he is in shul for only one reason – and this was on Yom Kippur day (!): if he weren’t, his father would be spinning in his grave. Guilt.

     Too many people come to synagogue with those motivations, and it is typically reflected in their level of interest and behavior, and the quality of their davening – and perceived quite easily by their children. But that’s what happens when tefila becomes only asking for things, a laundry list of requests from G-d as Santa Claus. No wonder teens find it hard to daven – how much do they have to ask for (we give them almost everything), and how much of our daily tefila really involves these supplications? Perhaps 5 minutes out of 30, not much at all.

     Rav Kook wrote that true tefila emerges from a thirst for G-d – itself a rare sensation today – and must be directed at Him in totality, and not to a particular attribute like His compassion. Rav Kook characterized tefila as “service of G-d with one’s emotions,” contrasting it with Torah study that is “service of G-d with one’s intellect.” That is not to say that the intellect plays no role in tefila; it is to say that prayer and Torah study are two different experiences. I note parenthetically that both the ArtScroll siddur, and the new Rabbi Sacks siddur are fine works (each with its own passionate advocates), with many fascinating insights about tefila. Both are filled with ideas, but both are missing something – the heart, the experience of standing before the King of Kings, and the sense of awe and reverence that should engender. But that cannot come from a siddur – that has to come from us.

       Those siddurim tell us what to contemplate, but not what to experience. They cannot convey the prayer that Rav Kook described as the “revelation of the depth of the soul,” and the spontaneous outpouring of the real person. The real person, as Rav Kook saw it, is primarily expressed through the emotions, not the intellect. The proof is that we don’t always obey the intellect – but we always know how we feel. (Of course, ideally, our emotions are shaped by our intellectual attainments.) That is the part of the human personality that is accessed during prayer, and that is why we – who often live purposely superficial existences – can find prayer difficult and exasperating.

      Pharaoh of old knew only begging, until the very end when he asked Moshe to bless him – in the language of tefila and not the language of begging. Until then, Pharaoh’s heart hardened after each time he sought Moshe’s intercession – because the beggar is never satisfied. There are always new requests that have to be granted. Prayer as begging will always be inherently unsatisfying, always leave us wanting more – more things, not more tefila. Requests are a part of tefila, but not an essential part.

      What makes tefila difficult is what makes it so sublime. It is not the quota of words we say or even our mouths that utter them – but rather the expression of what is inside us – our thoughts, our feelings, the framework and mindset with which we stand before G-d. Such prayer requires patience, practice and effort – but such prayer can be a joy, an inspiration, and an example for us and to mankind as to the way to properly relate to and serve the Creator.

Comments Off on Prayer

Posted in Chumash, Contemporary Life, Current Events, Machshava/Jewish Thought, Tefillah

Parenting

Posted on January 6, 2010 | Comments Off on Parenting

     Our forefathers all had parenting challenges, but none more than Yaakov, our ancestor who was closest to us in time and life experience. In a sense, Yaakov had more difficulties in raising his children – for the most part, as a single parent – than did Avraham or Yitzchak. It is easier to raise children if one is righteous and one is wicked. We have clearer guidelines when the dichotomy is black and white. Between Yitzchak and Yishmael, between Yaakov and Esav – there are separate, distinct paths. Shades of gray – the dazzling diversity of Yaakov’s children as exemplified by his blessings – are more difficult to manage and direct, and Yaakov was blessed with twelve colorful children, thirteen if Dina is counted, all whom required direction and discipline. And the stakes were never greater.

      Somehow, despite their famous feuds, all of Yaakov’s sons gathered around his deathbed, and Yaakov was quite precise in identifying their uniqueness, their personalities, and their destinies are part of the nation of Israel. Of the twelve, only Shimon and Levi are described as “brothers” – in Ramban’s phrase, “complete brothers, resembling each other in a brotherly way in thought and deed.” All the others were individualists – and Yaakov raised them all, and uneasily, with one objective: to create the nucleus of G-d’s people. So how does one rear – and discipline – diverse children?

     The model of our forefathers – and life itself – reinforces that there is no perfect system and no guarantee of ultimate success – but there are patterns that lead to successful discipline that in many ways is on the wane today. Here are some rudimentary thoughts:

       Firstly, a parent must be a parent first, and a friend second or third, if at all. A child has friends – a child needs parents. A parent who acts like a child is not acting like a parent – and a parent who feels a need to ingratiate himself/herself to a child or who craves the child’s approval is also not acting like a parent. And a child needs a parent. I recently heard, incredulously, about the mindboggling case of parents who allow their children to smoke marijuana in their home – preferring that they smoke there “under supervision” than outside the home without supervision. Heaven save us – and children – from such “parents” (and their not-so-supervision) who through their children are undoubtedly re-living their wayward youth that apparently turned out so…well, or from parents whose search for personal happiness induces them into shirking or abandoning their parental responsibilities.

      Parenting, secondly, requires occasionally saying “no.” Not always saying “no” or always saying “yes,” but occasionally saying “no.” A friend rarely says “no” – or you would just find another friend. There are parents who feel their children will love them less if they say “no.” In fact, the opposite is true – children love their parents more when the parents set limits. Limits – discipline – are examples of parental love, not only authority. In truth, parents whose good values have been absorbed by their children (and whose personal virtues have been witnessed by their children) will have to say “no” less frequently as the child grows in adolescence, not more frequently.

     Rav Shlomo Wolbe cited the verse in Zecharia (11:7) as illustrative of the two models of parenting: “And I took two staffs, one I called noam, “pleasantness” and the other chovlim, “destruction,” and I shepherded the flock.” Parents have two tools of discipline – noam and chovlim – at their disposal, and must choose wisely.

      There is a destructive form of discipline – when the parent thinks he/she can create a clone of himself/herself and becomes intolerant of any deviation. The child must look, speak, think and act like the parent, walk in the parent’s footsteps – live in the same community, attend the same school, etc. That is wonderful if the child so chooses, and destructive if it is coercive. It is destructive when parents discipline in anger, and without reason or rationale. That is the “makel chovlim”– the destructive staff.

     The “makel noam” is pleasant – it rewards, it gives incentives, it provides guidelines, and it sends a message of love. Discipline is like the guardrails on a narrow, winding road; guardrails are not unreasonable constraints on one’s freedom but rather expressions of societal concern and caring. Guardrails do prevent one from experiencing the exhilaration of sailing over a cliff, but also spare one the gruesome reality of hitting rock bottom. Guardrails allow room for maneuverability – within limits. The great criticism lodged against King David, who also struggled with many of his children, is that he never disciplined his rebellious son Adoniyahu – “His father never aggrieved him” (I Kings 1:6) – never caused him any grief, never challenged him, and never said “no.”

      Thirdly, it is no crime not to be able to afford something – especially these days when many parents seem to fear telling their children “we cannot afford that, you can’t buy that.” Indeed, it is no crime not to buy something even if you can afford it. Nor is it a crime to say “no” – “you can’t go there, you can’t watch this, you can’t buy this” – even if all your child’s friends can. Parents who judge their worth based on what they give their child materially are not really worth that much, or giving them that much. There are vapid politicians today who lament that our children’s generation might be the first in American history not to out-earn their parents – and the very sentiment corrupts our children’s values. So what if they are not wealthier – there are greater, more valuable legacies we can leave our children. Would we be in a state of deprivation if we had the same material bounty, or even a little less, than the last two generations? Certainly not.

      Yaakov’s twelve sons were not an easy bunch – they were strong-willed, complicated, dynamic individuals who had legendary problems with each other and occasionally with their father. Yet, when Yaakov said “gather and listen,” they gathered and listened. And he blessed them, each with a personally appropriate blessing.

       For a parent to bless a child requires that the parent knows both his child, and the blessing. To know the child and not know the blessing is as ineffectual as knowing the blessing but not how to transmit it to the child. We need both.

         To know one’s child requires insight and objectivity, and to know the blessing – to recognize and use the “staff of pleasantness”– requires knowledge of Torah, and the spirit of our ancestors, our fathers and mothers, our grandfathers and grandmothers. And then we will merit children who are productive Jews and responsible adults, we will be positive role models to the world, and our national history will reach its inevitable – and grand – climax.

Comments Off on Parenting

Posted in 1, Chumash, Contemporary Life, Current Events, Machshava/Jewish Thought