Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Vayetze 5772

The exile of the Jewish people from its homeland is an experience which has been shared by most of the Jewish people for most of Jewish history; the “normal” state of being rooted in our own land is, in actuality, the exception. While our galus has been punctuated by persecutions, massacres, and pogroms, there have also been times and places where Jews have enjoyed great success and affluence.
Ramban (Devarim 28:42) commenting on this phenomenon – perhaps with the Golden Age of Sepharad in mind – writes that the supernatural curses of blight, pestilence, and disease foretold in the Tochacha are restricted to Eretz Yisrael; in exile we find ourselves sharing and even surpassing the prosperity of our neighbors. It is only the oppressive decrees of the governments under which we live that have blemished this idyllic image.
This protection from the supernatural afflictions, says Ramban, is rooted in a Divine promise (Vayikra 26:44), “But despite all this, while they are in the land of their enemies, I will not despise them nor will I reject them to annihilate them, thereby breaking My covenant that is with them, for I am the Lord their
G-d.”
Ramban in his commentary to Bereishis (12:6) introduces a concept that the lives of the Avos foretell and foreshadow later events in Jewish history. If our reading would only pierce the surface, we could actually see G-d laying the groundwork for the course of Jewish history by leading the Avos through miniature versions of the future tribulations.
It would seem that the twenty-year galus of Yaakov, described in Parshas Vayetze with such meticulous detail, is the paradigm for our exile experience.
(That the experience of Yaakov was meant to be a portent of future exiles is the deeper meaning behind a well known Midrash. In the dream that Yaakov had on the fateful night that he slept at the site of the future Bais HaMikdash, he saw a vision of angels ascending and descending a ladder whose feet rested upon the earth and whose top reached the heavens. What was the significance of these angels? Midrash Tanchuma (Yayetze 2) states that they were the angelic overseers of the four kingdoms – Babylonia, Persia, Greece, and Rome – that would exile the Jewish people; the ascent is an allusion to their times in power and the descent is an allusion to their ultimate downfalls.)
The parallels to the type of galus that Ramban describes are unmistakable. Although Yaakov was tormented at every juncture by the cunning, manipulative Lavan, in very significant ways these were years of wonderful achievement; during this time his family was established and he amassed great personal wealth.
Our “North American” galus certainly fits this paradigm. The wealth, influence, and political power of the Jewish community are unprecedented. The institutional infrastructure that exists today could not have been imagined fifty years ago. But rather than merely resting on our laurels, we must accept that this Divine gift comes with obligations. Given our material bounty, our Galus must be a time of spiritual creativity and striving.
(It is noteworthy that the verse cited above, “But despite all this,” is also understood at Megillah 11a as
G-d’s commitment to provide for the spiritual advancement of the Jewish people in galus by giving them teachers, counselors, and role models, such as Daniel Chananya, Mishael, and Azaria in the Babylonian exile; Mordechai and Esther in the Persian; the Chashmonaim and Shimon Hatzadik in the Greek, and the dynasty of Rabbi Yehuda HaNassi in the early period of the current exile.)
May we rise to the challenge!

Friday, November 25, 2011

Toldos 5772

And Yitzchak prayed to Hashem opposite his wife for she was barren, and Hashem responded to his prayer and Rivka, his wife, conceived. (Bereishis 25:21)
Although both Yitzchak and Rivka prayed, the Torah emphasizes that it was the prayer of Yitzchak alone that brought the desired result. To explain this Rashi cites the statement of Chazal (Yevamos 64a) that the prayer of a righteous person who is the son of a righteous person (Yitzchak) is greater than the prayer of a righteous person who is the son of a wicked person (Rivka).
At first glance this presents a difficulty. A person who has overcome the spiritual shortcomings of his negative family background should have greater merit than the person to whom the religious life came naturally due to the advantages of his positive background. This point is illustrated by the well-known statement of Chazal (Berachos 34b), “In the place where the penitent stand the purely righteous may not stand.”
A careful reading of the original statement will provide a clue to the solution. The difference between the prayers of Yitzchak and Rivka was not in that Yitzchak had more merit; to the contrary, a strong argument can be made that Rivka had more merit coming from her disadvantaged upbringing. The difference was in the quality of the prayer itself. This is the point that Chazal are making when they say that there is no comparison between the two prayers.
A short digression may give us insight into the deeper understanding of this difference. There is a famous Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 30:12) which explains that the Arbah Minnim of Sukkos correspond to various types of Jews. The Esrog which has taste and fragrance corresponds to those Jews who possess Torah scholarship and good deeds; the Hadasim which have only fragrance correspond to those who have good deeds alone; the Lulav whose fruit has taste only corresponds to those who only have scholarship. The lowly Arava, having neither, corresponds to those Jews who have neither Torah scholarship nor good deeds. The question may be asked: What does the Arava contribute then to the bundle?
The Sfas Emes (Sukkos, 5637) answers: Those Jews who lack both Torah scholarship and good deeds have a unique power of prayer. The efficacy of prayer is in our placing ourselves at G-d’s mercy by recognizing our total dependence on His kindness. One who believes that he has merit – whether deeds or scholarship – and thus approaches Hashem as if he has a valid claim for payment, actually undermines the prayer itself. The “Arava Jew” is free from any self-delusion.
(It is noteworthy that the Arava, by virtue of its shape, symbolizes the mouth (Vayikra Rabba 30:14), which is the organ of prayer, and that Hoshanna Rabba, on which the Arava features most prominently, is the day on which the entire focus is on prayer. Also, Hoshana Rabba corresponds to Dovid HaMelech, the seventh of the Ushpizin, who, as the author of Tehillim, is the embodiment of prayer.)
Returning to our original problem, we can suggest that the power of the prayer of the righteous person son of the righteous person is precisely in that he lacks the merit of his more worthy counterpart. Assuming that his observance is a credit to his upbringing and not to any choices he may have made on his own, he approaches Hashem with the humility and contrition which is the hallmark of effective prayer.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Chaye Sarah 5772

Chayei Sarah deals with two major themes – the purchase of the Me’aras HaMachpelah as a burial plot for Sarah and the finding of a wife for Yitzchak. The juxtaposition of the grave and the spouse should not be taken to be mere coincidence; in fact, in the Talmud, the rule that marriage can be contracted with Kesef – the groom giving the bride an item of monetary value – is derived from identical expressions (Gezerah Shava) linking Avraham’s purchase with the laws of marriage.
The Talmud (Berachos 31a) relates that when Rav Hamnuna Zuti was asked to sing at the wedding of Mar son of Ravina, his song’s opening words were, “Woe unto us for we shall die!” At first glance it seems to have been inappropriate for the occasion, but the commentators explain the relevance. Marriage, being the first step in the process of bringing children into the world, is really the way in which we transcend our own mortality. Sooner or later – hopefully later! – we will no longer remain in this world but we hope that our children will carry forward our legacies. Every wedding therefore, however festive and joyous it may be, takes place in the shadow of death. Hence Rav Hamnuna’s poignant words.
The legacy that we yearn to perpetuate is not simply our personal genome. Rather it is comprised of our beliefs, moral values, and life goals. For this to be achieved it is not sufficient that children be brought into the world; it is necessary that they be raised to respect and cherish the traditions that are passed down from the earlier generations. To Avraham Avinu, as the founder of the Jewish nation, this would have been of supreme importance.
The first step in the implementation of this agenda was the purchase of the Me’aras HaMachpelah. As the intended burial site of the patriarchs and matriarchs, it was to be a shrine to their memories and the values by which they lives. All who would come to pray there in subsequent generations – as is the custom – would reflect on the connecting bonds that span the centuries. Once this shrine was in place, Avraham could proceed to the second step – the physical production of his heirs and successors – by arranging for the marriage of Yitzchak. Thus the two main stories of the Parsha are deeply connected.
It is noteworthy that Rivka, although not a biological descendant of Sarah, plays an important role in the perpetuation of her personal legacy. The Torah (Bereishis 24:67) writes, “And Yitzchak brought her to the tent of Sarah his mother, and he took Rivka, and she became his wife, and he loved her.” Rashi, based on the Hebrew phrasing, explains this verse as meaning that, when Yitzchak brought her to the tent, Rivka became Sarah his mother. How so? There were three ongoing miracles in Sarah’s tent – the lamps were burning from Shabbos eve to Shabbos eve, the dough was plentiful and blessed, and a cloud of the Divine Presence hovered over the tent. When Sarah died, these three miracles lapsed; when Rivka arrived they were restored.
These miracles correspond to three similar miracles that were present in the Bais HaMikdosh of Yerushalayim – the flame of the western lamp of the Menorah was never extinguished, the Lechem HaPanim stayed warm and fresh for an entire week, and the cloud of the Shechina filled the Holy of Holies. The tent of Sarah was no less than a sanctuary of Hashem and the tent of Rivka was its continuation.


Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Vayerah 5772

The Torah seems to devote inordinate attention to the origin of the nations of Moav and Amon. In great detail we are told that, in the aftermath of the destruction of Sodom, the daughters of Lot committed incest with him and gave birth to sons who became the founders of those nations. When the text of the Sefer Torah was given to the Jewish people at the end of the forty years in the Midbar, it was undoubtedly a mystery why this story was considered worth recording. Only later in Jewish history was the veil lifted; two female converts from these nations, Ruth of Moav (great grandmother of Dovid HaMelech) and Na’amah of Amon (wife of Shlomo HaMelech, and mother of his successor Rechavam) play a critical role as progenitors of the Messianic dynasty.
Why is this necessary? Why must the seed of Moshiach come from a foreign source? Why can it not simply sprout from the “grassroots” of the Jewish people?
Maharal (Netzach Yisrael Ch. 32) explains that Moshiach is an entirely new phenomenon and thus cannot come from within; if its roots were already contained within the spiritual makeup of the Jewish people, it would not be truly new. Yet, Maharal does not explain exactly what the novel contribution of Ruth and Na’amah is.
The Torah (Devarim 23:4-5) tells us that male converts from the nations of Moav and Amon may not marry native-born Jews because, “…they did not greet you with bread and water on the way as you left Egypt and because they hired Bila’am son of Be’or from Pesor Aram Naharayim to curse you.”  Ramban explains that these nations should have had an enormous debt of gratitude to the Jewish people as their ancestor, Lot, was only spared from the destruction of Sodom in the merit of our ancestor, Avraham. Their failure to express gratitude disqualifies them from entry into the Jewish fold. Although, we are dealing with a prospective convert who, in any case, is engaged in the process of fundamental change, apparently this trait of ingratitude is so deeply rooted in the nature of Moav and Amon that, in the Torah’s estimation, it cannot be uprooted. (Incidentally, this law and its underlying rationale demonstrate the primacy of character perfection in the Torah’s hierarchy of values.)
However, this proscription only applies to male converts not to females. It seems that the women of Amon and Moav do have the power to change in this critical way. It is worth noting that among the exemplary characteristics that Ruth demonstrates – loyalty, perseverance, kindness – the trait of gratitude for even the smallest favors stands out. (See Ruth 2:10.)
We can suggest that this potential for radical self-transformation is the unique contribution that these righteous converts bring to the Messianic line. When kingship lacks this ability to change itself, adapting to new circumstances and challenges, it becomes stagnant and lethargic. In the worst-case scenario, it dooms its subjects to societal collapse and catastrophe as it cannot abandon failed policies and ideologies. The righteous convert, for whom essential change is the most basic feature of his life and temperament, is uniquely suited to make this positive contribution to our spiritual genome.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Lech Lecha 5772

Chazal tell us that Avraham Aveinu was given ten tests and passed them all (Avos 5:3). There is a matter of debate among the commentators as to how the tests are to be listed.  Rambam only includes those tests that are related in the Chumash text itself, whereas Rabbeinu Yonah includes the Midrashic account of Avraham’s threatened execution by Nimrod. In any case, the abduction of Sarah to Pharoah’s palace is certainly one of the ten. (According to Rambam it is the third; according to Rabbeinu Yonah it is the fourth.) We should therefore assume, based on the above citation, that here as well Avraham passed the test and is to be commended for his actions.

Surprisingly, Ramban tells us in his commentary (12:10) that Avraham sinned greatly in proposing that Sarah represent herself as Avraham’s sister. If going to Egypt entailed a danger to Avraham that could only be prevented by placing Sarah at risk, Avraham should have placed his trust in Hashem and opted to remain in Eretz Yisrael despite the famine. Even more surprisingly, Ramban, invoking the concept that the punishment rightfully takes place where the offence was committed, tells us that the subsequent enslavement of the Children of Israel in Egypt was a consequence of this sin! (See Maharal, Gevuros Hashem Chapter 9, for a critique of Ramban’s comments.)

How can we reconcile Ramban’s words with Chazal’s statement that Avraham passed all ten tests?

When a person is given a test, it is important to identify what exactly is being tested. Let us say a person is given a difficult challenge. He is unable to perform the task, yet he maintains his mental equilibrium despite his frustration. Did he pass or did he fail? It really depends on what was being tested. If the exercise was meant to be a test of his ability to perform the task, we would say that he failed. On the other hand, if it was meant to be a test of his ability to cope with frustration, we would say that he passed with flying colors.

Returning to our question: What exactly was Hashem testing for in the various tests he administered to Avraham? Let us offer the following suggestion: Over the years, Hashem made many promises to bestow kindness and bounty on Avraham. The initial move to Eretz Yisrael was to be for Avraham’s benefit (See Rashi 12:1); only there would he be blessed with wealth, children, and fame. Yet, at every juncture Avraham faced misery and crisis. He could have doubted Hashem’s good intentions or even Hashem’s ability to make good on His promises. Nevertheless, Avraham never wavered in his faith and trust. In this sense, he certainly passed all the tests.

But there is still another issue which remains to be explored.

Generally, even those of perfect faith find themselves working for a living, seeing the doctor, and looking both ways before crossing the street. Bitachon, trust in Hashem, is usually coupled with hishtadlus, human effort. But where hishtadlus is not a reasonable option, then the only alternative is pure bitachon. Of course, the proverbial $64,000 question is to know exactly when to apply which rule of thumb.

This was the calculus which Avraham faced in coming to Egypt. On the one hand, his plan to have Sarah conceal her true identity could be a life-saving hishtadlus. On the other hand, it may be a non-viable option – the risk to Sarah being too great – and accordingly this would be a scenario that calls for pure bitachon. Ramban’s position is that in this weighing of alternatives Avraham was at fault and that there were terrible consequences for this failure. This failure, however, does not detract from the purity of Avraham’s faith. He did pass the test.