Bamidbar 5772

As a rule, on the Shabbos before Shavuos we read Parshas Bamidbar. Presumably there is some connection between the two, but even a cursory examination of Bamidbar leads us to question this assumption. The seemingly mundane topics of the Parsha – the census, the array of the camp, the redemption of the first-born – hardly match the thunder and lightning of the Sinai revelation which Shavuos celebrates.

Yet, if we look beneath the surface, there actually is a very deep connection between Shavuos and this Parsha. The Ramban, in his introductory comment to Sefer Bamidbar, mentions that the encampment of the Jews around the Mishkan – described in this Parsha with a wealth of detail – is actually reminiscent of the enclosures that were erected to fence in Mt. Sinai before the revelation. This, of course, reminds us of an earlier comment of Ramban (Shemos 25:1) that the Mishkan itself was designed to be the resting place of the Shechina which had appeared on Mt. Sinai. In other words: The Mishkan with its surrounding encampments was the perpetuation of the experience of Sinai in sanctified space just as the holiday of Shavuos is the perpetuation of the Sinai experience in sanctified time. The connection is thus self-evident.

The centrality of the Mishkan in the design of the encampment is symbolic of the centrality of Torah in the life and thinking of the Jew. This idea can be understood on two levels:

First, within the realm of our religious lives, Torah is first and foremost. Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin in his commentary to Pirkei Avos, Ruach Chaim, explains that although the world is founded on three pillars – Torah, Divine Worship, and Acts of Kindness – these three are not co-equal. Ultimately it is the Torah which defines the other two. Whether a given ritual practice – such as animal sacrifice in the absence of the Bais Hamikdosh – is a meaningful and valid act of worship or not will depend on definitions and guidelines provided by the Torah. As well, whether an interaction of two people – such as lending money on interest below market rates – constitutes an act of kindness or an act of abuse will depend on legal standards spelled out in the Torah. (Both examples are, in fact, prohibited.) Thus, Torah is central as it defines all other areas of religious life.

But, more importantly, Torah must be central to the entirety of a Jew’s life.

Many people live with a misconception. They believe that there are many diverse components to life; religion being just one of them. Others would include career, social life, community involvement, cultural and artistic pursuits, and so on. Life is viewed as a pie and each component is a slice of the pie. In this conception, the defining characteristic of the “religious personality” is simply the size of the slice.

A genuine Torah perspective calls for a different metaphor. To the serious Jew, religion is the baking dish; all the other aspects of life – slices of the pie – must fit into that dish. As the Rambam writes (Shemoneh Perakim Chapter 5), the ideal of Judaism is “Know Him in all your ways.” Every aspect of life has value only to the extent that it facilitates and serves as a means to the ultimate end of coming to know G-d. If a person was to integrate this ideal into his way of life, everything would be different. His eating, sleeping, recreation, work habits, relationships, and even his thoughts would be focused on the imperative of living a life totally devoted to the will of Hashem.

The centrality of the Mishkan is meant to convey the idea that Torah is not merely an important part of life and not merely the most important part of life. It is the pivot and the core around which everything must revolve.

Behar-Bechukosai 5772

It has been taught: R. Simeon ben Eleazar says: Ezra made a regulation for Israel that they should read the curses in Vayikra before Shavuos and those in Devarim before Rosh Hashana. What is the reason?  Abaye , or you may also say Resh Lakish, said: So that the year may end along with its curses. I grant you that in regard to the curses in Devarim you can say, ‘so that the year should end along with its curses’. But as regards those In Vayikra, is Shavuos a New Year? —Yes; Shavuos is also a New Year, as we have learnt: ‘Shavuos is the New Year for [fruit of] the tree’. (Megillah 31b)

The question may be asked: Is there a specific correlation between the two versions of the Tochacha and the occasions before which they are read or could the readings just as well have been reversed?

It would seem that there is a very profound historical connection between the blessings and curses of Bechukosai and the giving of the Torah which Shavuos celebrates, but to understand this properly we must first examine the structure of the closing chapters of Sefer Vayikra and their place within the context of the entire book.

Vayikra opens with Hashem speaking to Moshe from within the Sanctuary. From the time the Sanctuary was built, this was the standard practice as the Divine Presence had already moved from Mount Sinai to the Sanctuary’s Kodesh HaKodoshim. However, the two concluding sections – Behar and Bechukosai – were clearly communicated to Moshe at Mount Sinai as the opening and closing verses explicitly state. So why are these sections set apart and not incorporated into the book of Shemos which contains the other teachings of Sinai?

Ramban (Vayikra 25:1) writes that these sections were taught to Moshe on Mt. Sinai, but not during the first forty days – rather during the last forty days at the end of which Moshe was given the replacement set of Luchos. This is why they are set apart from the other teachings which belong to the first forty days.

What did these teachings add to that which was taught during the first forty days?

Here the Ramban offers an astounding insight: After the initial revelation at Mt. Sinai, there was a covenant that was made between Hashem and the Jewish nation. The ceremony at which this covenant was made featured burnt offerings, sprinkling of blood, a reading of the Sefer Habris – all the Mitzvos that were given to date, and finally the formula of ratification, “Na’aseh V’nishma.” This covenant, however, was abrogated when the Jews committed the sin of worshipping the Golden Calf.

When Moshe went up for the final forty days he was given – in addition to the second Luchos – instructions for a new covenant. These instructions included an expansion of the Sefer Habris – the sections of Behar and Bechukosai – to be read at the ratification ceremony. Thus, the laws of Shemitta (Behar) which were in the original Sefer Habris in concise form are incorporated in expanded form. But more importantly, the Sefer Habris now includes blessings and curses (Bechukosai) for the first time.

Apparently, the Jews’ spiritual level had been diminished as a consequence of the terrible sin of the Golden Calf. Now they needed the inducements of blessings and curses to insure that they would comply with the Divine commands.

In the spirit of Ramban’s comments we can add one point: The blessings and curses of Bechukosai were actually the necessary corrective to the original covenant – the Shavuos covenant – that was violated by the Jewish people. We are no longer on the level of altruistic acceptance of Torah; the Golden Calf ended all that. Now we need that our acceptance of Torah be rooted in the self-interest that is consequent to blessings and curses. Accordingly our celebration of Shavuos is preceded specifically by the reading of the Bechukosai version of the Tochacha.

Emor 5772

The association of Shavuos with the giving of the Torah is well established; the wording of the Amida prayer and the Torah Reading reflect this. Yet, surprisingly, in Parshas Emor (Vayikra 23:17-22), Shavuos is ordained as Mikra Kodesh – a day of Holy Assembly – only in consideration of the fact that it is the day on which two loaves of newly grown wheat are offered as a sacrifice to Hashem. Thus, Shavuos is the culmination of an agricultural celebration which begins with the second day of Pesach (on which the Omer of the new barley is brought), continues through the seven weeks of Sefira, and concludes with the above-mentioned loaves, the Shtei HaLechem. What happened to the celebration of the Torah?

It is also noteworthy that Shavuos does not always fall on the anniversary of the revelation at Sinai. There is a dispute in the Talmud (Shabbos 86b) as to whether the revelation took place on the sixth or the seventh day of Sivan. Shavuos, on the other hand, really has no fixed calendar date. It is always the fiftieth day of the Sefira counting which begins on the second day of Pesach.

Originally, the length of months was not fixed as the declaration of Rosh Chodesh was based on the observation of the new moon. Thus, if the months of Iyar and Sivan were both “complete” months (that is, 30 days long), the fiftieth day would fall on the fifth of Sivan. If Iyar and Sivan were both “defective” (that is, 29 days long), the fiftieth day would fall on the seventh of Sivan. If one month is complete and the other is defective, then the fiftieth day falls on the sixth of Sivan. In any case, there was no guarantee that Shavuos would fall on the anniversary of revelation. (See Rosh Hashana 6b.)

(One would be tempted to make the following argument: Granted that the calendar dates do not match, but wasn’t the Torah given on the fiftieth day, which is exactly when Shavuos occurs? Unfortunately, this is not the case. The Talmud (Shabbos 86b) clearly states that the day of the Exodus was a Thursday and the day of Matan Torah was Shabbos. Do the calculation and you will discover that the Torah was on the fifty-first day!)

If Hashem really wanted to connect Shavuos to the giving of the Torah, it would seem that the fixing of dates should have been a bit more precise. How do we reconcile this imprecision with that which we know to be true, that Shavuos does celebrate the giving of the Torah?

I believe that we are compelled to come to a curious conclusion: From Hashem’s perspective, Shavuos has nothing to do with the giving of the Torah. It is simply a celebration of the harvest sacrifices, despite the fact that it falls (approximately) at the time the Torah was given. The Jewish people, however, transformed the nature of the day, connecting it to the Matan Torah, resulting in the Rabbinic ordinances of the Amida and Torah Reading reflecting this new association.

The explanation of this curiosity is both simple and profound.

The Torah makes many demands of the Jewish people, both as individuals and as a community. It regulates what we eat and what we wear; how we think and how we speak; our social lives and our professional lives; our relationships to parents, spouses, and children; how we earn our money and how we spend it; and much, much more. Hashem, from His perspective, understanding that, as humans, we may find these rules overly restrictive, would not demand that we celebrate their being given to us. He will demand that we comply and live by them, but he will not insist that we feast joyously at the prospect of being given such a burden.

Through our experiences, however, we come to the conclusion that the Torah is actually the greatest source of satisfaction in life. It gives our lives purpose and direction. It facilitates the most powerful and meaningful relationship that a human being could possibly have; a relationship with Hashem. The collective genius of the Jewish people sensed that at this time of year we should be celebrating the gift of Torah, and thus our Sages blended into the agricultural holiday an additional spiritual dimension which ultimately eclipsed – in our conventional thinking – the harvest aspect.

Thus the celebration of Matan Torah on Shavuos is not an obligation that was imposed on us. It is rather the expression of a voluntary sentiment that emerged from the grassroots of the Jewish people.

Acharei Mos-Kedoshim 5772

This week’s Parsha gives us an opportunity for a five-month head start on our preparations for next Yom Kippur; of course, Teshuvah, which is the essence of Yom Kippur, is always in-season.

Perhaps the most outstanding feature of the Yom Kippur ritual is its requirement that the Kohen Gadol enter the innermost chamber of the Bais Hamikdosh – the Kodesh HaKodoshim – four times. What is the significance of this fact? We may suggest two possibilities:

First, it symbolizes the esteem in which the genuinely penitent are held. Chazal (Berachos 34b) teach, “In the place where Ba’alei Teshuvah stand, the absolutely righteous cannot stand.” On Yom Kippur we present ourselves before Hashem as Ba’alei Teshuvah. Accordingly, our representative – the Kohen Gadol – can stand in a spot which is so holy and so close to the Divine Presence that it is off limits in any other circumstance.

Second, it symbolizes an important element in the process of Teshuvah. To understand this fully, we may use an analogy:

The law of the Nazir grants an individual the ability to make a vow of self-sanctification. In that state he must avoid drinking wine, cutting his hair, and defiling himself by contact with the dead. These laws express three different aspects of the Nazir’s holiness: total rationality (avoiding intoxicants), selflessness (inattention to personal grooming), and purity (non-defilement). Why would a person become a Nazir? In the Torah, the law of the Nazir is juxtaposed to the law of the Sotah, the suspected adulteress. Says the Talmud (Sotah 2a): “A person who sees the ruination of the Sotah should take the vow of the Nazir.” Presumably the downfall of the Sotah was rooted in a drunken loss of control; becoming a Nazir addresses the problem.

But is it necessary? If our only concern is maintaining rational control, why is it not sufficient to make a vow to forbid wine? Being a Nazir entails so much more!

Chazal may have something else in mind. The value of becoming a Nazir is not just the resulting avoidance of alcohol. Becoming a Nazir raises one to a new spiritual plane at which the temptations of the past are simply unimaginable. The Nazir has “outgrown” them much in the same way that a ten-year old outgrows the antics of a toddler. Making a vow to avoid wine would be perhaps a band-aid solution; becoming a Nazir is a genuine transformation.

(Interestingly, it would not be necessary to become a Nazir forever. An unspecified vow of Nazir lasts for only 30 days. But that may be enough. The impression left on the psyche of the Nazir lasts beyond the expiration of his vow.)

In doing Teshuvah, we are not looking for the band-aid solutions for sin-avoidance. We are seeking ways to raise our overall spirituality and elevate ourselves above and beyond temptation. Our Torah study, prayers, and spiritual experiences may never directly address the sins we have committed. Yet, they will be the building blocks of our Teshuvah. What we really are trying to do is to follow the Kohen Gadol into the Kodesh HaKodoshim. If we can go there, we will happily leave our old baggage behind.