Thursday, February 21, 2013

Parashat Tetzaveh ~ Shabbat Zachor


Parashat Tetzaveh ~ Shabbat Zachor
Adar 13, 5773 ~ February 23, 2013
by Barry Waldman


GUESS WHAT?  YOU ALREADY WON THE GRAND SUPER LOTTO

(Based on the writings and shiurim of Rav Matis Weinberg: www.thelivingtree.org)

And dedicated to the memory of Yocheved Leba bat Naomi v’Yehudah


'I don't understand you,' said Alice. 'It's dreadfully confusing!'


'That's the effect of living backwards,’ the Queen said kindly: 'it always makes one a little giddy at first.’


'Living backwards!'  Alice repeated in great astonishment. 'I never heard of such a thing!'


'— but there's one great advantage in it, that one's memory works both ways.’

         

'I'm sure mine only works one way,’ Alice remarked. 'I can't remember things before they happen.’


'It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,’ the Queen remarked.


(Through the Looking Glass – Lewis Carroll)



Parsha Tetzaveh is the only parsha from the beginning of sefer Shemot until the end of sefer Devarim that does not mention Moshe Rabbeinu – it is exclusively the parsha of Aharon.  And if not for being Shabbat, today would also be Ta’anit Esther – unlike most fast days which are named for their day and month, this is a day specifically for Esther.  Today is also parsha Zachor, in which we recall Amalek:


You shall remember what Amalek did to you on the way, when you went out of Egypt.  How he happened upon you (karcha) on the way and cut off all the stragglers at your rear, when you were faint and weary, and he did not fear G-d.  [Therefore,] it will be, when Hashem your G-d grants you respite from all your enemies around [you] in the land which Hashem, your G-d, gives to you as an inheritance to possess, that you shall blot out the remembrance of Amalek from beneath the heavens. You shall not forget! (Devarim 25:17-19)


These pesukim present a contradiction – how does “remembering” Amalek help us “blot out the remembrance” of Amalek?? Why not just forget about him in the first place?  Through the confluences of this day, the Torah hints that the answer must lie in the personalities and achievements of Aharon and Esther.


Let’s begin with a definition.  Zachor – typically translated as “remember” – does not mean what it currently does in English, i.e., to retrieve information out of storage. Instead, its meaning is closer to the original Latin root memor i.e. “mindful.”  In Hebrew, it refers to a condition in which past, present, and future are held together in a continual, fluid, heightened state of mindfulness.  It is an integrative function (re-member implies “connect again”) that provides us with selfhood and identity.  Thus,


Without Zichronos, we would have no real Life…There would be nothing to attach our present to our eternity, nothing to connect the minutiae of our journey through time to wholeness, no way to connect our beginning to our end.  Our lives would only skim the surface of time, and the ripples would soon be forgotten.  (Rav Matis Weinberg:  Patterns in Time – Rosh Hashanah)


In short, zicharon provides context – an overarching totality in which the individual details and moments of our lives have meaning.  This is precisely what Amalek seeks to destroy.  Amalek are the world’s nihilists – those who doubt the existence of meaning itself.


We gain a clue to Amalek’s chief weapon through the manner in which he attacked Israel – through “karcha” (happenstance).  Amalek uses the idea of randomness to deconstruct what Yisrael comes to assert through zicharon.  It’s not that Amalek denies that patterns can be found in a random universe; his only claim is that their interpretations are purely individual, disconnected from any objective, underlying reality.  Thus, Amalek becomes the revisionists of history (“Why should your version of the facts be more accurate than anyone else’s?”), and the moral relativists (“Why should your interpretation of truth have more value than anyone else’s?”)


It’s not that Yisrael renounces the presence of randomness in the world.  The difference is that where Amalek uses randomness to destroy meaning, Yisrael sees it as the source of meaning.  Perhaps nowhere can this be seen better than in the story of Esther.


But first, an example from quantum physics to provide some background:  within any given lump of uranium, there is no way to determine which particular atoms will undergo radioactive decay and when – it’s a completely chaotic process.  However, with near certainty, we can tell precisely when half of the atoms in that lump of uranium will have undergone decay.  Despite the mind-boggling number of possible random permutations in which individual atoms can decay, there is yet a single, profound order that underlies the chaos.


Similarly, when Mordecai tells Esther that if she fails to act, “revach v’hatzalah ya’amod layehudim mimakom acher” (relief and salvation for the Jews will come from somewhere else), he is essentially saying this:  “Yisrael represents a fundamental order within the universe, and its survival is a given. There are an infinite number of ways in which events can randomly transpire to neutralize Ahashveros and Haman. So actually, Esther – we don’t need you to save the Jews.”


But if that’s the case, why should Esther risk her neck?  What’s to prevent her from heading back to her room for a nap, and simply wait for Ahashveros to fall off the roof and land on top of Haman, or the like?


The answer is zicharon.  What Mordecai tells Esther is that, yes – there are an infinite number of ways in which the Jews can be saved…but let it be said that they were saved through you.  Let it be your tikkun of history (Esther is descended from Shaul, who spared the life of Agag, ancestor of Haman).  Let it be your story – let the book be called Megillat Esther!


But that leaves us with a bigger problem – what, exactly, is Esther to do?  How can she possibly contrive any plan of definitive action when unpredictability and the law of unintended consequences rule the day?  It is here that we discover the linkage of parsha Zachor to Tetzaveh and Aharon.


Our first introduction to Aharon is in parsha Shemot, where Moshe is reassured that far from Aharon being jealous of his younger brother’s accomplishments, he will be “samach b’libo” (happy in his heart).  This week’s parsha details the clothing Aharon will wear as Kohen Gadol, including the choshen – the breastplate that bears the names of b’nei Yisrael “al libo (over his heart)…for zicharon.”  Aharon is all heart.


In lashon haKodesh, the heart is not the seat of emotion, but of responsiveness [1] (just as biologically it is exquisitely responsive in terms of rate and rhythm to external and internal stimuli).  And herein lies the secret of Esther’s success.  She enters the King’s chambers not with any pre-planned course of action [2], but armed only with the resolve to be attentive, sincere, and responsive to events as they unfold – her vulnerability itself being the source of her power.  Aware of the implications of her actions in terms of her personal history and their significance within the overall saga of Yisrael, she ultimately defeats Haman with meaning itself.  And that is how we blot out the remembrance of Amalek with remembrance.


And what is the relevance of Esther’s achievements for our own lives?  Think about this for a moment:  The odds of winning the California Mega Millions Lotto jackpot are 1 in 175,711,536.  The average number of human sperm per emission is 180,000,000 – and only one gets to fertilize the egg.  So, was your birth similar to winning the lottery –i.e., a highly improbable statistical incident that “just happened”?  Or was your conception a purposeful event, specifically desired by G-d?  I would suggest that the answer is indeterminate, and depends on you.


The beauty of living within the context of zicharon is that time flows forwards and backwards.  End results can redefine initial conditions; the future can change the past.  This is what allows Chazal to say, “Great is Teshuvah…for it turns sins into merits” (Yoma 86b).


And so, if you relate to your life as a random event that brought you into a chaotic world in which good things happen and bad things happen, and the goal is to enjoy the good as much as you can when it comes your way, and deal with the bad as best as you can when it meets up with you – then indeed, your conception was a result of two gametes that just happened to bump into each other in the middle of the night, and it will remain that way. 


However, if you view the randomness inherent in the universe as inimitable opportunities for you to respond in ways that allow you to become the self you were meant to be, a self with a personal narrative that is also attached to the story of Yisrael from Bereishis bara Elokim until the coming of Mashiach – in other words, part of an overarching zicharon that gives you a unique identity – then, indeed, your conception was necessary, awaited [3], and cherished, and becomes the very source of “Yismach Hashem b’ma’asav” (Hashem rejoices in His works).


You have already won the jackpot in the Grand Super Lotto called Being.  The task now is to experience every moment as “the chance of a lifetime in a lifetime of chance.”



FOOTNOTES


[1] “I SPOKE WITH MY OWN HEART” (Koheleth 1:16). The heart sees, as it is said, “My heart hath seen much.” It hears, as it is said, “Give Thy servant therefore a heart that hears.” (I Melachim 3:9). It walks, as it is said, “Went not my heart?” (Melachim II 5:26). It falls, as it is said, “Let no man's heart fall within him.” (Shmuel I 17:32) It stands, as it is said, “Can thy heart stand?” (Yechezkel 22:14). It rejoices, as it said, “Therefore my heart is glad and my glory rejoices.” (Tehillim 16:9). It cries, as it is said, “Their heart cried unto Hashem.” (Eicha 2:18). It is comforted, as it is said, “Bid Jerusalem take heart.” (Yeshayahu 40:2). It is troubled, as it said, “Let not your heart feel bad” (Devarim 15:10)...It grieves, as it said, “It grieved Him at His heart.” (Bereishis 6:6). It fears, as it is said, “For the fear of thy heart.” (Devarim 28:67). It can be broken, as it is said, “A broken and contrite heart.” (Tehillim 51:19)...It overflows, as it is said, “My heart overflows with a good thing.” (Tehillim 45:2)...It desires, as it is said, “You have given him his heart's desire.” (Tehillim 21:3)...It is refreshed, as it said, “[I will fetch a morsel of bread] that you may sustain your heart.” (Bereishis 18:5). It can be stolen, as it said, “And Ya'akov stole Lavan's heart.” (Bereishis 31:20). It is humbled, as it said, “Then perchance their uncircumcised heart be humbled.” (Vayikra 26:41). It is enticed, as it is said, “He spoke enticingly upon the heart of the damsel” (Bereishis 34:3). It errs, as it is said, “My heart is bewildered.” (Yeshayahu 21:4). It trembles, as it is said, “His heart trembled.” (Shmuel I 4:13). It is awakened, as it is said, “I sleep, but my heart wakens.” (Shir HaShirim 5:2). It loves, as it is said, “You shall love the L-rd your G-d with all your heart.” (Devarim 6:5)...It searches, as it is said, “I, the L-rd, search the heart.” (Yirmiyahu 27:10). It is rent, as it is said, “Rend your heart, and not your garments.” (Yoel 2:13). It meditates, as it is said, “The meditation of my heart shall be understanding.” (Tehillim 49:4). It is like fire, as it is said, “It would be in my heart like a burning fire.” (Yirmiyahu 20:9)...It turns in repentance, as it is said, “That turned to the L-rd with all his heart.” (Melachim II 23:25)... It takes in words, as it is said, “And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be upon thy heart.” (Devarim 6:6)...It gives thanks, as it is said, “I will give thanks unto Hashem with my whole heart.” (Tehillim 91:1)...It makes merry, as it is said, “It came to pass when their hearts were merry.” (Shoftim 16:25)...It speaks from out of itself, as it is said, “Now, Hannah, she spoke in her heart.” (Shmuel I 1:13)...It receives commandments, as it is said, “The wise heart will receive commandments.” (Mishlei 10:8)...Hence, “I SPOKE WITH MY OWN HEART, SAYING: LO, I HAVE GOTTEN GREAT WISDOM.” (Koheleth Rabbah I 16:1)


[2]  see Megillah 15B – the Rabbis offer many of their own ideas for what Esther had been plotting when she invited Haman to the party.  Rabbah b. Abbuha came across Eliyahu HaNavi, and asked which of the reasons was correct.  Eliyahu replied, “All of the above!” (i.e., she was keeping all options open)


[3] “What is the implication of the Scriptural text, ‘Who counts the dust of Jacob, or numbered the (seed) of Israel?’ (Bamidbar 23:10).  It teaches that the Holy One, blessed be He, sits and counts the (seed) of Israel. 'When, [He wonders], will appear (one) from which a righteous man could be fashioned'?”  (Niddah 31A)

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Parashat Terumah



Parashat Terumah
Adar 6, 5773 ~ February 16, 2013
by David Carasso

 
In this parsha, God tells Moses to create a dwelling place for God, where the Jewish People can bring Him gifts or offerings (“trumah”). He details what the Mishkan (portable Temple) should look like and how it should be made. The Mishkan includes an ark, two cherubim, curtains, and a menorah.

In the first aliya, a list of raw materials necessary for building the Mishkan was presented to the Jewish People.  In looking at the thirteen different items that were needed for the building of the Mishkan and its vessels, they are mentioned in descending order of value: gold, silver, copper, turquoise, purple and scarlet wool, linen, goats' hair, ram skins dyed red, ram skins, acacia wood, oil for the light, spices for the anointing oil and for the incense. Afterwards, however, it mentions the precious stones brought by princes. Why were these precious stones not mentioned first, as they were the most valuable
In Divrei Mordechai, Harav Mordechai Eliyahu, zt"l, writes that the Torah comes to teach that what one gives with all one's heart carries more weight than the actual value of the gift. The princes decided to wait and see what the others brought, rather than giving right away as did everyone else (so much so that the people were told to stop bringing their donations because there was enough).  Because of their arrogance, the gifts of the princes would be counted last.  Run to do a mitvah!

Rashi adds that when the verse says “Speak to the Children of Israel and they shall set aside trumah for Me” (Shmot 25:2), the word “li”, which would normally mean “to me” is translated as “for me” here. All items in this world already belong to God -- Trumah cannot be given to God, but donated in His honor. A real gift should be for the honor and glory of the recipient and not the giver. 

Another reading on this verse says “take for Me an offering”, even though people were giving, the verb used is to take.  Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik (Beis HaLevi) notes that the only money that a person has is the money he has given away as charity.  Everything else can disappear. Your house can be foreclosed, your job and paycheck can disappear, and your retirement portfolio can tank. But the charity you gave away, no one can take away. You’ve used your power and influence over others, for their good. You were created in God's image, and you took some of your resources and acted like God.

A number of commentators have noted the similarity between the Torah's description of two acts of creation: God's creation of the universe, and the Jewish Peoples' creation of the Mishkan. But, in looking at the few details describing the creation of the universe, and the many details describing the Mishkan, one might think the amount of text given to each is cosmically wrong. The Torah, however, is not Man's book of God, but God's book of Man. God can easily make a home for Mankind. What is difficult is for Man to make a home for God.


Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Parashat Mishpatim ~ Shabbat Shekalim


Parashat Mishpatim ~ Shabbat Shekalim
Shevat 29, 5773 ~ February 9, 2013
by Joel Ackerman

This Shabbat, besides being the Shabbat on which parashat Mishpatim is read, is also the one of the four Shabbats before Pesach on which a special maftir is read – in this week’s case, Shekalim.

          The maftir reading for Shekalim is found at the beginning of parashat Ki Tissa and describes the taking of a census, as directed by G-d to Moses.  The text reads:  “Ki tissa et-rosh B’nai Yisrael lifkudehem v’natnu ish koper nafsho l’Hashem bifkod otam v’lo yihyeh vahem negef bifkod otam”  -  “When you take a census [literally “raise up the head”] of the Children of Israel according to their counts, every man will give G-d an atonement for his soul when counting them, and there will be no plague among them when counting them.”

          The word “ki” (here translated as “when”) usually indicates a definiteness as opposed to a possibility.  So there definitely will be a census – if not at this point in time, then at some time thereafter (as opposed to a possibility that a census might be taken sometime).  But the census may not be taken by directly counting the people.  Instead they are counted indirectly - each man brings a half-shekel coin and the coins are then counted.  The Torah states that this is done as an atonement, in order that a plague not occur.  So the Torah postulates a situation that definitely will occur, but that carries with it a danger.   In fact, later the Torah commands that a census be taken, despite this inherent danger.

          But what is the inherent danger in taking a census, and for what sin must those counted bring a coin for atonement?  Why should a plague occur just because a census is taken?

          Our sages appear to consider the primary danger to be that the counting of a population causes the evil eye to become active, and that is one of the reasons that atonement is necessary.   

          We read in Pirke Avot (chapter 2):  Rabbi Yehoshua said:  The evil eye, the evil urge and the hatred of mankind drive a man out of the world.”  As discussed in Pirke Avot, the evil eye is not something external to man, something that affects him from another source, but an internal force, for example selfishness combined with the envy of another’s good fortune (Kehati) or the greedy pursuit of wealth (Rambam). 

The Meam Loez cites Abravanel as stating that when a person counts, he expresses the number orally, and when he considers the large number it causes harm.  So perhaps the counting causes a sense of undue pride, perhaps leading to smugness or even arrogance when one realizes how much he has, how wealthy he is, especially when compared to others.  Dr. Gabriel H. Kohn, writing for the Parashat Hashavua section on the Bar-Ilan University website cites the Shadal (S.D. Luzzatto) as writing:  “When a person counts his silver or his gold, or when the king counts his soldiers, it is very likely that he will put his trust in his wealth or in his large army and will pride himself, saying: My own power and the might of my own hand have enabled me to succeed or will enable me to succeed”.  Dr. Kohn further cites Cassuto as suggesting that the census was considered a sort of sin, exhibiting lack of faith in G-d (i.e., the person is likely to feel more independent of G-d’s providence), which therefore had to be accompanied by a ritual of expiation and cleansing from sin.

Others suggest that this commandment was given to Moses after the incident of the Golden calf, which sin required atonement.  The Meam Loez adds that G-d commanded Moses to count the people that remained, to see how many survived the deaths that had occurred in connection with that incident as a sign of His love for the people because they had now repented – just as a shepherd counts his sheep to see how many remain after a catastrophe.

          A third reason often given for the need for atonement is that the census was taken of the Israelite army prior to a battle.  Afterwards, atonement would be required for the killing and wounding.  Dr. Kohn points to the portion of the Torah that describes the battle with the Midianites (much later in the text), where the victorious Israelite army came to make an offering to atone for their sins in battle.

          So three possible reasons for a need for atonement – for a major sin such as the Golden Calf, for undue pride or envy combined in one’s accomplishments or wealth, or for a possible sin yet to be committed.  As Dr. Kohn puts it, there are three possible reasons – one in the past, one in the present and one in the future.  And they might apply simultaneously.  Not a bad deal, when you think of it.  At the right time one little coin could atone for a multiplicity of sins. 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch... counting can result in the evil eye being in play, on the part of the person doing the counting, and/or on the part of a person being counted (who may feel pride in being part of such a huge army or other group).  And counting can be done in a way reminiscent of Scrooge McDuck, who exhilarates in the extent of his wealth.  But could counting be done in a way that does not bring in the evil eye?

Perhaps part of the answer can be found in the title of a song that was popular in my youth:  “Count Your Blessings”.  Today, we (at least most of us, I think) do not tend to feel G-d in our lives so much.  We feel that our accomplishments, whether they be personal, financial, professional or whatever, are due at least mainly – if not solely - to our own efforts (with some credence perhaps given to luck).  We might not feel, for the most part, what part (if any) G-d may have played in these.  And even then, we are generally not inclined to give Him full credit.  Perhaps we ought to aim more to count our blessings rather than our wealth or accomplishments.

And think!  What might happen if, for example, we might have to make a small (“half-shekel”?) contribution to the upkeep of our synagogue every time we felt some personal satisfaction, not to mention pride, in an accomplishment, or in a career of accomplishments without at least including G-d in those thoughts?  We might become a bit spiritually wealthier; if not, the shul might become a bit materially wealthier.   

I’m leaving it to the Board’s fund-raising committee to figure out if there’s a way to capitalize on this idea.  Shabbat shalom.