Tuesday 26 June 2012

Death of a Tzaddik



Chukat: The Death of a Tzaddik
As the Israelites neared the end of their forty-year trek in the wilderness, they lost two great leaders, Miriam and Aaron. While a tremendous loss for the nation, their passing had a hidden spiritual benefit.
The Torah informs us of Miriam's death immediately after enumerating the laws of the Parah Adumah, the red heifer whose ashes were used for purification. The Talmudic sages already wondered what connection there might be between Miriam's death and the Parah Adumah :
"Why is the death of Miriam juxtaposed to the laws of the Parah Adumah? This teaches that just as the Parah Adumah brings atonement, so too, the death of the righteous brings atonement."  (Mo'ed Katan 28a)

While this connection between Miriam and the Parah Adumah is well-known, the continuation of the same Talmudic statement, concerning the death of Aaron, is less so.
"And why is the death of Aaron juxtaposed to [the mention of] the priestly clothes? This teaches that just as the priestly clothes bring atonement, so too, the death of the righteous brings atonement." 

In what way does the death of tzaddikim atone for the people? And why does the Talmud infer this lesson from both the Parah Adumahand the priestly clothes?
Larger Than Life
The principal benefit that comes from the death of tzaddikim is the spiritual and moral awakening that takes place after they pass away. When a tzaddik is alive, his acts of kindness and generosity are not always public knowledge. True tzaddikim do not promote themselves. On the contrary, they often take great pains to conceal their virtues and charitable deeds. It is not uncommon that we become aware of their true greatness and nobility of spirit only after they are no longer with us. Only then do we hear reports of their selfless deeds and extraordinary sensitivity, and we are inspired to emulate their ways. In this way, the positive impact of the righteous as inspiring role models increases after their death.
While stories of their fine traits and good deeds stir us to follow in their path, certain aspects of great tzaddikim — extraordinary erudition and scholarship, for example — are beyond the capabilities of most people to emulate. In such matters, the best we can do is to take upon ourselves to promote these qualities in our spiritual leadership, such as supporting the Torah study of young, promising scholars.
Two Forms of Emulation
In short, the death of tzaddikim inspires us to imitate their personal conduct — if possible, in our own actions, and if not, by ensuring that there will be others who will fill this spiritual void.
These two methods of emulation parallel the different forms of atonement through the Parah Adumah and the priestly clothes. Ritual purification using Parah Adumah ashes was only effective when they were sprinkled on the body of the impure person; no one else could be purified in his place. This is comparable to those aspects of the tzaddik that are accessible to, and incumbent upon, all to emulate.
The priestly garments, on the other hand, were only worn by thekohanim. It was through the service of these holy emissaries that the entire nation was forgiven. This is like those extraordinary traits of the tzaddik that are beyond the capabilities of most people. These qualities can be carried on only by a select few, with the support of the entire nation.
(Gold from the Land of Israel, pp. 263-265; adapted from Midbar Shur pp. 346-347)

Total Dedication



Chukat: Total Dedication to Torah
"This is the Torah: when a person dies in a tent ..." (Num. 19:14)
While the topic of this passage is the ritual impurity (tum'ah) that comes from contact with the dead, the Talmud (Berachot 63b) gives a homiletic interpretation about those who toil in the study of Torah:
"From where do we learn that Torah study is only truly absorbed by one who 'kills himself' over it? As it says, 'This is the Torah — when a person dies in the tent [of Torah learning].'" 

Why does Torah study require such a high degree of self-sacrifice and commitment?
The purpose of society is to provide normal living conditions, without excessive hardships, for its citizens. In order to achieve this goal, however, there must be some individuals who are willing to serve the community beyond the ordinary call of duty. For example, firefighters, soldiers, police officers and other security personnel must be prepared to work long and irregular hours, and accept the dangers inherent in their jobs. Without their willingness to accept these hardships, the entire populace would suffer from untended fires, violence, crime, war, and other threats to the community's stability and safety.
Guarding the Spirit of the Nation
In a similar fashion, those individuals who are willing to dedicate their lives to Torah study are guardians for the entire Jewish people. Just as a soldier cannot properly perform his service to the nation without a willingness for self-sacrifice, so too, Torah scholars must totally dedicate themselves to their mission. Only with this spirit of commitment will they succeed in nurturing the spiritual light of Israel and enriching the authentic inner life of the nation.
The breadth and depth of knowledge required for true Torah scholarship necessitates long and intensive hours of study. This must come at the expense of pleasures and leisure activities that are acceptable for the general population. Only by overcoming the desire for creature comforts and 'the easy life' — by demonstrating their willingness to 'kill themselves' in the tents of Torah — do these scholars prove their worthiness to lead the nation in attaining its spiritual aspirations.
(Gold from the Land of Israel, pp. 261-262; adapted from Ein Eyahvol. II, p. 390)

Monday 11 June 2012

Repairing the Sin of the Spies



Shlach: Repairing the Sin of the Spies
One of the greatest tragedies in the history of the Jewish people occurred when the spies sent by Moses returned with a frightening report about the Land of Israel. Their dire warnings of a "land that consumes its inhabitants" convinced the people that they would be better off returning to Egypt.
Unlike the other incidents when the Israelites rebelled, this time Moses was unable to annul God's decree. The entire generation died in the desert, never reaching the promised land. The best Moses was able to do was to delay the punishment for forty years.
In a 1908 letter, Rav Kook wrote that we still suffer for this catastrophic error. The root cause for the exiles and humiliations of the Jewish people, throughout their long history, is due to our failure to correct the sin of the spies.
How can we rectify the sin of the spies?
To repair this national failure, a teshuvat hamishkal is needed, a penance commensurate to the sin that will 'balance the scales.' The spies defamed the Land of Israel, as it says, "They despised the desirable land" (Psalms 106:24). We must do the opposite, and show our unwavering love for the Land.
"[We must] declare to the entire world [the Land's] magnificence and beauty, its holiness and grandeur. If only we could express, with what may appear to us to be greatly exaggerated, even a ten-thousandth of the desirability of the beloved land, and the splendorous light of its Torah, and the superior light of its wisdom and prophecy!

"The quality of delightful holiness that Torah scholars seeking the holy may find in the Land of Israel does not exist at all outside the Land. I myself can attest to this unique quality, to a degree commensurate with my small worth." (Igrot HaRe'iyah, vol. I, pp. 112-113)

For Rav Kook, this recommendation on how to address the sin of the spies was not just a nice homily. Stories abound of his burning love for the Land of Israel, and his indefatigable attempts to encourage fellow Jews to move to Eretz Yisrael. Below are a few examples.
'God Willing'
During a 1924 fundraising mission in America, Rav Kook tried to convince a wealthy Jew to immigrate to Eretz Yisrael. The man gave various reasons why he could not yet leave America, but concluded, 'God willing, I too will soon make Aliyah to Israel.'
Rav Kook responded, 'God is certainly willing. After all, settlingEretz Yisrael is one of His commandments. But you must also be willing...'
The Halachic Leniency
Once an American shopkeeper asked Rav Kook if there is a leniency in Jewish law that permits one to work on the second day of Yom Tov.
'Yes,' he replied, 'there is a leniency that is accepted by all halachic authorities." 
The shopkeeper was thrilled. He eagerly asked for details about this leniency.
'Come to Eretz Yisrael,' Rav Kook smiled. 'Then you will always be permitted to work during the second day of Yom Tov.'
Without Calculations
Once, a Jewish tourist visited Rav Kook in Jerusalem, seeking advice as to the possibility of living in Eretz Yisrael. During the discussion, the visitor calculated the pros and cons of moving to Israel; and in the end, he decided that it was not worthwhile.
Rav Kook told the man:
"Before the Israelites entered the Land in the time of Moses, they first needed to kill Sichon, the king of Heshbon. This teaches us that one should come to the Land of Israel bli heshbon— without making calculations."

Kissing the Rocks of Acre
The Talmud records that Rabbi Abba would demonstrate his great love for the Land of Israel by kissing the rocks of Acre (Ketubot 112a) as he returned to the Land. What was so special about these rocks that Rabbi Abba would kiss them?
Rav Kook explained that if Rabbi Abba had kissed the soil of EretzYisrael, we would understand that his love for the Land was due to the special mitzvot that are fulfilled with its fruit — tithes, first fruits, the sabbatical year, and so on. The soil, which produces fruit, signifies the importance and holiness of the Land through the mitzvot ha-teluyot ba'aretz.
But Rabbi Abba's love for the Land was not dependent on any external factors — not even its special mitzvot (see Avot 5:16; Orotp. 9). Rabbi Abba cherished the intrinsic holiness of Eretz Yisrael. He recognized that the special qualities of the Land – such as its receptivity to prophecy and enlightenment — go far beyond the holiness of those mitzvot connected to agriculture. Therefore, he made a point of kissing its barren rocks and stones.

Wednesday 6 June 2012

Punishment from the Parsha: Aaron's Punishment


Speaking Against Moses

It seems unfair. Both Aaron and Miriam spoke disparagingly of their brother. Both failed to grasp the unique level of Moses' prophecy. They considered Moses their spiritual and prophetic equal. "Is it only to Moses that God speaks? Does He not also speak to us?"

God was angry with them, and punished Miriam with leprosy.

"God displayed anger with them and departed. When the cloud left the Tent, Miriam was leprous, white like snow. Aaron turned to Miriam, and saw she was leprous." (Num. 12:9-10)

Why was only Miriam punished with leprosy? Why was only Miriam publicly embarrassed with a visible affliction associated with the improper use of language? Why was only Miriam forced to stay outside the encampment for a whole week?

According to the Sages, Aaron did not get off scot-free. They understood the words "God displayed anger against them" to indicate that Aaron was also disciplined. His punishment, though, was less severe than Miriam's, since it was his older sister who instigated the verbal attack on Moses. Miriam's leading role is highlighted by the fact that she is mentioned first: "Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses..."

What was Aaron's Punishment?

The exact nature of Aaron's punishment, however, is a matter of dispute. Rabbi Akiva said that Aaron was also punished with leprosy. But, unlike Miriam who suffered for a full week, Aaron's affliction was transient.

Rabbi Yehudah Ben-Betaira disagreed. Aaron was not physically disciplined. His punishment was being reprimanded by God.

According to Rabbi Akiva, Aaron was physically punished like Miriam. There must have been some minor defect in Aaron's character that led to his lack of awareness of Moses' unique prophetic stature. This personality defect required the physical affliction of leprosy - albeit briefly - in order to cleanse and rectify it.

Rabbi Yehudah, on the hand, rejected the idea that Aaron was subject to such a defect. Unlike Miriam, Aaron's sin was a matter of misjudgment - an error of the intellect. Therefore, the appropriate punishment was a Divine rebuke. Actual physical correction was unnecessary.

Revealing What the Torah Wished to Conceal

Rabbi Yehudah rejected his colleague's opinion for a second reason:

"Akiva! In either case you will be called to task [for your words]. If you are right, the Torah shielded him, while you disclose him. And if not, you have cast a stigma upon a righteous man."

Even if Rabbi Akiva was right and Aaron was in fact afflicted with leprosy, the Torah does not say so explicitly. If the Torah purposely chose to conceal Aaron's punishment, what right did Rabbi Akiva have to publicize it?

How could Rabbi Akiva not be attentive of this point?

Rav Kook explained that for Rabbi Akiva, there was no difference between a hidden detail inferred from a verse, and a punishment explicitly stated. Rabbi Akiva was famous for expounding each marking of the 'crowns' embellishing the letters of the Torah. In his extraordinary love for the Torah and his penetrating sensitivity to each hint and nuance, the implicit and the explicit were equal.

Monday 4 June 2012

Lessons from the Parsha - Rabbi Wein

Beha'alotcha

The Menorah - A Lesson in Parenting

Lighting the menorah – the great candelabra – in the Temple seems to be a very straight forward, cut and dried matter. One needs little skill or training apparently to light a candelabra. Yet the Torah’s emphasis in this week’s parsha insures that a deeper meaning is also present to this seemingly mundane and simple act.

Rashi already indicates the presence of this deeper idea by his comment that the obligation of the kohein was to keep his fire at the candelabra’s wick, “until they caught and burned brightly on their own.” This is a rule not only in lighting a menorah but also in life generally – in raising and educating children and students, in inspiring others with ideals, skills and knowledge.

It is a rule in the home, the classroom, the workplace and anywhere else in human life where people intersect and influence one another. It applies in those areas of life that are also subject to this challenge - that the wick has to catch fire and rise on its own.

The ability to let the “wick” catch fire and flame eventually on its own is a necessary trait in successful parenting and teaching. It is always difficult to let go of a child and a student. One becomes so emotionally involved that letting go becomes increasingly impossible. But the truth is that only by letting go and allowing the “wick” – child, student, etc. – to flame on its own is one’s parental and educational responsibility fulfilled. We cannot live another person’s life for that person. We can only attempt to provide that other person with the wherewithal to succeed and accomplish.

The other side of the coin in this matter is equally valid and important. The kohein may not remove the flame from the wick prematurely. He must make certain that the flame of the wick will not sputter out when he removes his flame from the wick.

The responsibility of parents and teachers remains as long as the child or student is still unable to flame on its own. Many times in life it is difficult to light the flame in others. It always seems never to catch and flame on its own efforts and abilities. The tendency therefore is for the flame giver to despair and eventually give up on the effort.

Students are expelled from schools and parents and children remain distant. No two instances in life are alike and there are therefore no real general rules that can be imposed in such situations. Yet it must be obvious to all that infinite patience and untiring efforts must first be expended before reaching a point of impasse and no return.

Some people are late bloomers and thus the flame has to be kept to their wick longer than usual. These are all naturally individual judgments and uncertain decisions. Perhaps that is why the Torah emphasizes this seemingly ordinary act of lighting the menorah in the Temple because it represents the ambiguities that lie at the heart of many basic issues in life, family and community affairs.

Judaism 4 U
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Friday 1 June 2012

Naso - Priestly Blessings

Naso: Three Priestly Blessings

Birkat Cohanim
Aaron and his descendants the kohanim were commanded to bless the Jewish people with three special blessings:

"Speak to Aaron and his sons, saying: This is how you must bless the Israelites. Say to them:
  • May God bless you and watch over you.
  • May God make His presence enlighten you, and grant you grace.
  • May God lift His face toward you, and grant you peace." (Num. 6:23-26)
The third blessing, however, is not so clear. What does it mean that God will "lift His face toward you"?
The Need for Special Consideration
While the first blessing refers to the material realm, the second blessing relates to our spiritual attainments. Greater enlightenment, however, brings with it additional responsibilities. As we gain knowledge and wisdom, we are expected to develop a higher level of moral sensitivity. Our thoughts should be purer, our character traits more refined, and our lives more spiritual.
If we take into account the consequential ethical demands, one may become apprehensive and even discouraged. In order to deflect this concern, the kohanim bestow a third blessing: "May God lift His face towards you."
To 'lift one's face' is a Hebrew idiom meaning to give special consideration or leniency. The Torah commands a judge, for example, not to 'lift his face' towards one of the litigants (Lev. 19:15). The judge must be careful to avoid even the impression of favoring one side. The other litigant may feel that the case is already lost and lose heart.
The kohanim bless us that, despite the ethical expectations that come with increased enlightenment, we should not lose heart. God will be lenient, taking into account the physical reality in which we live.
One may, however, feel embarrassed or uneasy with this Divine leniency. Therefore, the final blessing ends with the gift of peace — peace of mind. "And may He grant you peace."