To See as He Sees – Parshat Re’eh

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Shemonah Kevatzim (3:158)

If [any family member or friend]… tempts you in secret… saying, “Let us go and worship other gods, which neither you, nor your forefathers have known.”… You shall not accede to him, and you shall not hearken to him; neither shall you pity him, have mercy upon him, nor shield him. You shall surely kill him, your hand shall be the first against him to put him to death, and afterwards the hand of all the people. (Devarim 13:7, 9-10)

G-d gazes upon His creation with a kindly disposition (lit. עין יפה), with mercy and lovingkindness that transcend all limitations. Although it is a weighty task, we are summoned to uproot anger from our heart and see the world as G-d does. We must have compassion even upon the worst sinners mired in the filth of wickedness. We must find the points of goodness within them and seek out whatever merits they have, and diminish (but not eliminate) the magnitude of their guilt.

This sacred task applies even towards those who entice others[1]to embrace their sinful ways. The death penalty for those who entice others to idolatry does not contradict this principle. Judgment must be carried out in the world of action. There can be no tolerance for practice of idolatry within Israel’s midst. But in the inner realm of thought and ideas, points of holiness can be discerned even within the filth of sin and its enticers. When one discovers these sparks, he neutralizes the poisonous enticement of sin, and its venomous force dwindles away. After all, no evil is immutable. Even the most wicked of sinners will eventually become rectified.

When we reflect upon Chazal’s teaching[2]that descendants of Haman studied Torah in Jerusalem and descendants of the Canaanite general Sisra studied Torah in B’nei Brak, we arrive at the depths of G-dly chesed. We discover that there is no need to lash out with a torrent of hatred against obstinate and willful sinners. And certainly not against those who sincerely believe in a system of ethics and morality, or whose activities bring some practical benefit to Israel. Despite the harm they cause to the Torah community, the good within them does not become nullified.

However, not every individual is qualified to seek out the holiness within the wicked and their ideologies. It is a dangerous task, one that can easily lead to compromised religious commitment and outright sin. For that reason, it is specifically incumbent on the righteous of the generation to purify every thought, idea and ideology — to remove their dregs and extract what is untainted and holy. This task is critical to Israel’s spiritual vitality, because precisely from the realm of impurity will the greatest holiness emerge. When light shines directly from the realm of holiness, it lacks the force and vitality that emerge from a strenuous process of searching, purification and return. For this reason, the righteous must not excise the wicked out of Israel or ignore their merits. No evil is immutable. Everything will eventually be rectified.

Food for Thought

Rav Tzadok haKohen (Tzidkat haTzadik no. 54):[3]The essence of Yahadut is to be called by the name of Israel, as it is said (Isaiah 44:5) “One shall say, ‘I am the Lord’s, another shall be called by the name of Ya’akov and another shall write on his arm ‘Of the Lord.’ And he shall be called by the name ‘Israel.’” If someone has no merit but that he acknowledges the name Israel, that is sufficient… And regarding this, it says (Hoshea 4:17) “Ephraim is connected to idols — [but] let him be.” For they are connected to one nation, and have not broken away to become absorbed in the nations.

Rabbi Norman Lamm (Seventy Faces, Pg. 138-139): As an Orthodox Jew, I not only have no trouble in acknowledging the functional validity of non-Orthodox rabbinic leadership, but also in granting the non-Orthodox rabbis and laypeople may possess spiritual dignity. If they are sincere, if they believe in G-d, if they are motivated by principle and not by convenience or trendiness, if they endeavor to carry out the consequences of their faith in a consistent manner—then they are religious people… But neither functional validity nor spiritual dignity are identical with Jewish legitimacy. “Validity” derives from the Latin validus, strong. it is a factual, descriptive term. “Legitimacy” derives from the Latin lex, law. It is a normative and evaluative term.

Kol Yisrael on Perek Chelek (Rav Shmuel haLevi Haber): The mishnah in Sanhedrin lists certain sins which are so egregious that one who commits them loses their portion in Olam ha’ba. It also lists certain wicked individuals in Tanach who forfeited their portion in Olam ha’ba. In several of his letters and responsa, the Lubavitcher Rebbe dwelt with this subject at length. Chasidic and kabbalistic literature articulate a principle referred to[4]as לְבִלְתִּ֛י יִדַּ֥ח מִמֶּ֖נּוּ נִדָּֽח– literally “G-d devises means so that one who is banished not be permanently cast away from Him.” The Rebbe explained that every soul, no matter how wicked, will ultimately achieve its rectification. The purification process will be intense, it will involve gilgul neshamot and other factors which we cannot comprehend, but no Jewish soul is ever cast out. The mishnah in Sanhedrin means that certain wicked people cannot attain Olam ha’ba through the normal means – not that it is foreclosed to them entirely.

This issue is not mere theory – in the Shulchan Aruch haRav, R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Lubavitcher Rebbe, addresses its halachic ramifications. Kabbalistic literature is full of terrible warnings about how the forces of evil are empowered when wicked people study Torah and perform mitzvot. Shulchan Aruch haRav says that these sources are not to be heeded, and writes as follows: “It is true that when a wicked person learns Torah and performs mitzvot, he gives strength to the kelipot, but this is only temporary. When a person eventually does teshuva– if not in this lifetime, then in another gilgul (as it says לא יִדַּ֥ח מִמֶּ֖נּוּ נִדָּֽח)– then all of the spiritual energy of his Torah and mitzvot is freed from the kelipot and returns to holiness. For this reason, no person, no matter how wicked, should ever hold himself back from involvement in Torah.”

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein (Regarding Contemporary Relations with Non-Orthodox Jews): In the course of his stay in Eretz Yisrael in the summer of 1935, the Rav [Rav Soloveitchik] visited the secular kibbutz of Kinneret. His host proffered some fruit, which the Rav naturally but politely declined. Sensing the reason for the refusal to partake of the offering, the kibbutznik observed that he presumes that it was grounded in concerns about kashrut; whereupon he proceeded to inform his thunderstruck guest that the local kitchen was absolutely kosher. When asked for the cause of this anomaly, he narrated the following story. Rav Kook once spent a Shabbat at the kibbutz, and he of course brought his own food. He ate each se’udah with the group, including participation in the motza’ei Shabbat fireside kumsitz. Upon taking leave of his hosts, he thanked them graciously and concluded with a brief wish. “I hope that next time I’ll be able to eat together with you.” Sure enough, the haverim voted to introduce kashrut in their public hadar okhel. I am not so Pollyannish as to imagine that such a scenario could be repeated routinely. Rav Kooks are few and far between, and the response to the force of his personality also is not too common. Nor do I pretend that I would or could have emulated him, letting my yearning for fraternity overwhelm my concern about tevel and orlah. And I don’t recall whether… the Rav ate.

My point relates to an entirely different continuum. Given the currently prevalent winds in our camp—or, for that matter, in that of our adversaries—let us assume that I, and my comrades, would have abstained. But to the accompaniment of which sentiment? How many would have felt and expressed Rav Kook’s pain? And how deeply? Would we truly yearn for that “next time,” consumed by candid regret that it seems to be constantly becoming increasingly remote?… Before we choose a course of action, we must effect a change of mindset and a change of heart. We must, at the very least, reduce the level and the scope of mutual demonization…. Unless—and until—we develop a propensity for mutual respect, acknowledging that there may be mediocrities and charlatans in various camps, but steadfastly refusing to tar indiscriminately, …the interests of klal Israel… will be adversely affected… History has amply demonstrated that internecine religious strife is often the most bitter, as combatants are animated by a sense of engagement in the encounter of the children of light with the children of darkness. For us, however, as Jews committed to the entirety of Torah, let vitriolic antagonism not prevail, routinely and consistently, as the sole or even as the dominant passion. Let us therefore be intent upon monitoring our motivation, with an eye to ensuring that if indeed we have been charged to enter the lists of fraternal strife…. we do so impelled by devotion and responsibility, but animated by the hope… of binding reconciliation.

Rav Yehuda Amital (Jewish Values in a Changing World, pg. 277): Rav Elchanan Wasserman wrote that “The fundamentals of faith in and of themselves are simple and compelling for any person who is not a fool, it being impossible to doubt their truth. This is true, provided that a person not be bribed, that is, that he be free of this-worldly lusts and desires. Thus, heresy is not rooted in a breakdown of reason in and of itself, but in a person’s desire to satisfy his lusts, which distort and blind his reason.” I believe that Rabbi Wasserman’s explanations do not suffice. Many people come to a secular outlook not in order to satisfy their desires, but rather because of their dedication to ideals that may, at times, even demand great sacrifice. It is difficult to pin all disbelief on following after one’s desires.

Questions for Discussion

According to Rav Kook, there are major differences between how we relate to the wicked in practice vs. how we think about them in our hearts. Practically speaking, how is it possible to live this way? And are there other places in Judaism the Torah requires us to act one way but feel another?
What are some of the dangers of finding the good points of ideologies that reject/run counter to the Torah?
Do you share Rav Kook’s optimistic outlook? Why or why not?
How can we apply Rav Kook’s insights to the way we see ourselves after we’ve sinned or failed to live up to our religious/ethical standards? (See Chapter 3 of Pirkei Avot – אל תהי רשע בפני עצמך.)
Which non-Orthodox Jew (living or deceased) do you admire for their excellence in a particular Torah value?

[1]In the Hebrew, Rav Kook states that this applies to both מסיתים ומדיחים– i.e. whether the target of their enticement is an individual or the collective.

[2]Gemara Sanhedrin 96b.

[3]This passage is censored in most editions. Can you guess why?

[4]Based on Shmuel Beit 14:14.

Featured

HaMeleh baSadeh – Parshat Ekev

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Ein Ayah (Gemara Berachot 10b)

Beware when you eat and be full[1]and build good houses and dwell therein, and your herds and your flocks multiply, and your silver and gold increase, and all that you have increases, lest your heart grow haughty, and you forget the Lord, your G-d… and say to yourself, ‘My strength and the might of my hand has made this wealth.’ You must remember the Lord your G-d, for it is He who gives you the ability to prosper (lit. כח לעשות חיל), in order to establish His covenant that He swore to your forefathers…. (Devarim 8:12-13, 17-18)

As Israel stood on the threshold of Eretz Yisrael, Moshe warned them of the spiritual dangers to come. In the desert, G-d’s presence was palpable and the people were sustained by miracles. No human effort or initiative was required. The people were unconcerned with planting, plowing, building, and conquering. That period was coming to an end, but the people would still have to remain faithful to G-d and see His hand in their prosperity.

As noted by Rabbeinu Nissim of Gerona (Spain, 1320-1376),[2]Moshe did not say that G-d gives “prosperity,” but rather “the ability to prosper” (lit. כח לעשות חיל). There is a big difference. Moshe was not denying the significance of human initiative and hard work (a.k.a. hishtadlut). He was reminding Israel that hishtadlut is itself the greatest evidence of G-d’s guiding hand. Now, this may seem counterintuitive. Isn’t hishtadlut part of the system by which G-d’s hides His involvement? Isn’t His presence far more apparent when He performs miracles?

However, consider the fact that miracles are fleeting, by their very nature. They are like a bolt of lightning that brightens the darkness, illuminates the landscape for a brief moment, and then fades back to darkness. However, when one encounters G-d through the natural order, every moment is an opportunity for a renewed encounter with the Divine. For, as Moshe taught, G-d is the one who gives us the ‘כח לעשות חיל’. The wisdom required for human beings to plan, develop and accomplish comes from Him, as do the necessary physical strength and raw materials. G-d’s blessing and beneficence are present at every stage of hishtadlut– and not just in the end result, like we so often assume. We can accomplish tremendous things with our abilities, but Who gave us those abilities in the first place?

When the Jewish people partake of bread through difficult labor in their fields – or, for that matter, their stores or offices – they have a greater opportunity for encountering G-d than the generation of the midbar, who received their livelihood supernaturally and without effort.[3]Thus, hishtadlut is neither a punishment nor an illusion. When viewed in the proper perspective, it is an opportunity for continually encountering G-d.

However, attaining this perspective requires a degree of ethical and religious sensitivity that cannot be achieved instantaneously. It is not an easy matter. If the Jewish people are not spiritually mature, hishtadlut can make them coarse and prideful. Instead of attaining Divine consciousness, the people will be blind to G-d’s blessings. Instead[4] of ואכלת ושבעת וברכת את ה׳ אלוקיך, the result will be ואכל ושבע ודשן ופנה אל אלהים אחרים ועבדום.

This deeper understanding can help us resolve the multitude of contradictions about whether hishtadlut is an ideal way of life for the Jewish people.[5]The answer is that all depends on the spiritual state of a generation. The Exodus and the period of the midbar were Israel’s spiritual infancy.[6]An abundance of hishtadlut would have distanced them from G-d, and so open miracles abounded. However, after forty years, the people had reached a level of spiritual and ethical maturity. They no longer needed to be passive recipients of G-d’s kindness, and so G-d gradually weaned them from His miracles. Indeed, we find that the conquest of Eretz Yisrael took place largely through the natural order and diligent application of military strategy.[7]

However, by the period of the Shoftim, the people had lost the proper perspective on hishtadlut. They no longer adequately perceived the Divinity of the natural order. Thus, on the eve of Gidon’s battle with the Midianites (Shoftim, Chapter 7), Hashem insisted on minimizing their hishtadlut. He demanded that Gidon send most of his soldiers away – “The people with you are too numerous for Me to deliver the Midianites into their hand, lest Israel boast ‘My own hand has saved me.’”

[1]Notice the parallelism between the dangers of פן תאכל ושבעת and the earlier imperative of ואכלת ושבעת וברכת את ה׳אלקיך.

[2]Derashot haRan (Derush10).

[3]See Gemara Shabbat (31a), which expounds the following verse in Isaiah as referring to the six orders of the mishnah – והיה אמונת עתיך חסן ישועות חכמת ודעת, יראת ה’ היא אוצרו. The gemara interprets the word אמונותas a reference to סדר זרעים, which deals with agricultural mitzvot. The midrash, cited by Tosafot, explains the connection – שהוא מאמין בחיי העולם וזורע.

[4]Devarim 8:10, 31:20.

[5]Rav Kook alludes to the possibility that the guidelines for individual (as opposed to collective) hishtadlut may be different. וצריך עיון.

[6]In a portion not translated above, Rav Kook references a pasuk in Hoshea (11:10), which describes Israel’s early years as its ‘youth’– ‘כי נער ישראל ואהבהו וממצרים קראתי לבני’. Rav Kook notes that G-d dealt with the Jewish people like a parent. A young child has all of his needs provided for. However, the state of total dependence is not meant to last. The ultimate goal is for a parent to teach a child to function independently, to be able to support himself. (How many of us know people whose life skills and personal development were stifled because of overreliance on parental support?)

[7]In particular, Rav Kook mentions the battle to conquer Ai (Yehoshua, Chapter 8), where the text strongly emphasizes the extent of Yehoshua’s military strategy.

Food for Thought

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Parshat Shelach 5772): Most of the commentators assume that the spies were guilty of a failure of nerve, or faith, or both… However, in the Hassidic literature… an entirely different line of interpretation emerged, reading the text against the grain to dramatic effect so that it remains relevant and powerful today. According to their interpretation, the spies were well-intentioned. They were, after all, “princes, chieftains, leaders” (Num. 13:2-3). They did not doubt that Israel could win its battles with the inhabitants of the land. They did not fear failure; they feared success. Their concern was not physical but spiritual. They did not want to leave the wilderness. They did not want to become just another nation among the nations of the earth. They did not want to lose their unique relationship with G-d in the reverberating silence of the desert, far removed from civilization and its discontents… Here they were close to G-d, closer than any generation before or since. He was a palpable presence in the Sanctuary in their midst, and in the clouds of glory that surrounded them. Here His people ate manna from heaven and water from the rock and experienced miracles daily. So long as they stayed in the desert under G-d’s sheltering canopy, they did not need to plough the earth, plant seeds, gather harvests, defend a country, run an economy, maintain a welfare system, or shoulder any of the other earthly burdens and distractions that take peoples’ minds away from the Divine…

[But] Judaism is not a religion of monastic retreat from the world. It is supremely a religion of engagement with the world. The Torah is a template for the construction of a society with all its gritty details: laws of warfare and welfare, harvests and livestock, loans and employer-employee relationships, the code of a nation in its land, part of the real world of politics and economics, yet somehow pointing to a better world where justice and compassion, love of the neighbor and stranger, are not remote ideals but part of the texture of everyday life. G-d chose Israel to make His presence visible in the world, and that means that Israel must live in the world. The Jewish task is not to fear the real world but to enter and transform it. That is what the spies did not understand. Do we – Jews of faith – understand it even now?

Midrash (Eichah Rabbah): When faced with war, Dovid HaMelech said: “I will pursue my enemies and overtake them, and will not return until they are destroyed” (Tehillim 18:38)… [Later] Assa stood up and implored Hashem, “I do not possess the strength to kill them. Rather, I will pursue them and You will kill them.” Hashem accepted his prayer, as it says “Assa and the people with him pursued them to Gerar, and the Ethiopians fell… for they were crushed before Hashem and before His camp” (Divrei haYamim II, 14:12). [Later] when Yehoshafat waged war against Ammon, he said “I do not possess the strength to pursue or kill. I will simply sing songs of praise to You, and You will fight the war.” Hashem accepted his prayer as well, as it says “As soon as they began their exuberant song and praise, G-d set up ambushers against the Children of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir who were attacking Yehuda, and they were struck down” (Divrei haYamim II, 20:22). [Later] Hezekiah said “I do not possess the strength to pursue or to kill or to sing songs of praise. I will sleep in my bed while You wage war.” Hashem accepted this prayer as well, as it says “On that very night, an angel of G-d went out and struck down 185,000 people in the Assyrian camp” (Melachim II, 19:35).

Rav Ya’akov Yosef of Ostroha (Rav Yeivai, cited in Bitachon v’Histadlut): When a person makes effort to save himself from troubles, instead of relying on complete bitachon, Hashem removes His assistance and says ‘You really think you can save yourself on your own?! I will withhold My help and you’ll see how things work out.’ But when a person is מסיח דעת and says “What’s the point of doing anything? Hashem will do whatever he wants” – then Hashem will help him.

Questions for Discussion

Can you think of a time when you felt G-d’s hand in something that one or your accomplishments or successes?
Do Rav Kook’s insights on hishtadlut enhance the religious value of Zionism and the State of Israel? If so, how?
Is Rav Kook’s understanding of hishtadlut counterintuitive to you? Why or why not?
Rav Kook sees tremendous religious value in hishtadlut, whereas certain other Torah thinkers regard it as a temptation, an illusion, or a curse. What are some practical differences between these two perspectives?
What can we do to better perceive Hashem’s involvement in the natural order?
Take a look at the midrash in Eichah Rabbah, cited above. How does it support Rav Kook’s thesis?

Outside In – Parshat Va’etchanan

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Ein Ayah (Gemara Shabbat 12a)

And you shall bind them as a sign (lit. אות) upon your arm, and they shall be for ornaments between your eyes. (Devarim 6:8)

Rabbi Akiva says: One is exempt from wearing tefillin on Shabbat and Yom Tov, because the Torah says that tefillin are meant to be a “sign” (lit. אות). The implication is that on Shabbat and Yom Tov, which are themselves a ‘sign’ [1] the mitzvah does not apply. (Gemara Menachot 36b)

Broadly speaking, religious life unfolds on two different dimensions. The first is the outer world of action and activity, structured through mitzvot ma’asiot and the intricacies of halachic observance. The second is man’s ‘inner world’ – intellect and consciousness, emotion and feeling.

Obviously, these two worlds do not exist in isolation. Outward activity is the catalyst for inner kedushah. G-d’s Torah contains many mitzvot and ritual activities whose purpose is to deepen our inner world. The Torah commanded these acts because G-d, in His wisdom, knows that man would not achieve maximal spiritual growth without them.

However, the demands of the world of action are not static. They change in response to spiritual crisis, when our inner fortitude and commitment is challenged or even compromised. At such times, both individual Jews and the collective Israel must take on additional acts to preserve and protect their inner kedushah. As Jews, we can see this clearly in the history of the galut and our response to its spiritual calamities.

In particular, let us examine how exile affects Torah law. In our land, the Sanhedrin was the final authority and we had clarity in matters of Torah law. In exile, matters of doubt proliferate and parts of the Torah are forgotten. [2] There is no central authority to resolve halachic disputes. The inevitable consequences are a tendency towards stringency (lit. חומרה), establishment of boundaries around permitted matters, and an increased emphasis on the particulars of halachic observance – in other words, a general expansion of the outer dimension of Jewish life. [3]

Granted, the ultimate ideal is the deepening of Israel’s inner world, not the expansion of the outer, more practical aspects of Jewish life. However, this expansion is precisely what has preserved our inner kedushah, protected our inward faithfulness, and drawn our hearts closer to G-d during the centuries of exile. And as long as we have not returned to our pre-exilic spiritual state – with prophecy and ruach ha’kodesh, the Mikdash, a king, and a Sanhedrin to issue incontestable halachic rulings – the expansion of outer life is indispensable to our spiritual wellbeing. The consequences of tampering with these aspects of halacha are disastrous. They cannot be rolled back or rescinded until the Messianic future, which our Sages describe as “a day that is entirely Sabbath.”[4]

Rabbi Akiva is alluding to these profound truths in his above statement about being exempt from tefillin on Shabbat and Yom Tov. Tefillin is a paradigmatic outer mitzvah, for impacting our awareness and consciousness. As the Torah states explicitly, [5] “And it shall be a sign upon your arm and a remembrance between your eyes that G-d took you out of Egypt with a mighty hand, in order that the law of the Lord shall be in your mouth.” [6] The Torah exempts us from tefillin on Shabbat/Yom Tov to teach us that our inner, essential kedushah is primary. According to Rabbi Akiva, “Shabbat and Yom Tov are themselves a sign – meaning, they are times for a person to draw close to G-d with his very being, without a need for assistance from externals.

Until Shabbat comes, we need our tefillin and must keep them on. However, with the arrival of Shabbat, the external kedushah of tefillin is supplanted by an inner, essential kedushah. In miniature, we reenact what will happen with the perpetual Sabbath of the Messianic era. At that time, clear teaching will go forth from Yerushalayim [7] and matters of halachic doubt will be clarified. The Jewish people will shed many of the practices that they required to spiritually sustain them during exile. The outer dimension of Jewish life will contract, and the world of inward kedushah will expand, becoming deeper and richer in ways that we can scarcely comprehend.

“And the redeemed… shall return, and they shall come to Zion with song, with everlasting joy upon their heads[i.e., instead of the figurative tefillin shel rosh]; they shall achieve gladness and joy, and sadness and sighing shall flee.” (Isaiah 35:10)

[1] I.e, of Israel’s status as G-d’s nation and the Exodus from Egypt (רש׳י).

[2] Rav Kook references Gemara Shabbat 138b –“And they will wander from sea to sea, and… will roam to find the word of the Lord, but they will not find it” (Amos 8:12). According to R. Shimon bar Yochai, this means that they will not find clear halakha and clear teaching together (lit. הלכה ברורה ומשנה ברורה במקום אחד). [I.e. there will be an abundance of disputes among the Sages.]

[3] As examples, Rav Kook mentions Yom Tov Sheni and the obligation to separate challah outside of Israel.

[4] In both zemirot and the siddur (see after Mussaf in השיר שהלויים היו אומרים בבית המקדש), we mention the idea of Shabbat as a symbol or re-enactment of the Messianic era. This notion is mentioned explicitly in the gemara and midrash.

[5] Shemot 13:9, as interpreted by Ramban.

[6] R. Yoel Sirkes (או׳ח סימן ח, תרכ׳ה), one of the major halachic codifiers, derives from this verse that one doesn’t properly fulfill the mitzvah of tefillin unless they have in mind its specific purpose. He applies the same rule to tzitzit and sukkah.

[7] In the Hebrew Rav Kook alludes to Devarim 17:10 – “And you shall do according to the word they [i.e. the Sanhedrin] tell you, from the place that G-d will choose, and you shall observe to do according to all they instruct you.”

Food for Thought

Sefer haChinuch (Mitzvah 16): A person’s heart and thoughts are constantly affected by the actions he takes, whether for good or evil. Even if someone has a wicked heart, if he dedicates himself consistently to Torah and mitzvot, even if not l’shem shamayim, he will immediately begin to incline towards goodness… and defeat his yetzer ha’ra. Conversely, even if a person has a good and righteous heart, but spends his time engaged in worthless activities, his spiritual goodness will ebb away. This is the meaning of the teaching of our Sages in Gemara Makkot (23b) that רצה הקב”ה לזכות את ישראל לפיכך הרבה להם תורה ומצות – “G-d wished to confer merit upon Israel, and therefore He gave them an abundance of mitzvot.”

Someone Who Didn’t Get Rav Kook’s Message (Tablet Online Magazine, 2011): Janet Fuchs, a 44-year-old stay-at-home mother in Los Angeles, sends most of her four kids to Orthodox schools and attends an Orthodox synagogue. But she quietly stopped observing the second day of yom tov two years ago. “My husband announced it first,” she told me. “He couldn’t miss that much work, he decided, and he doesn’t like to daven.” At first the family continued observing the second day without him, going to synagogue and a celebratory meal. “But it wasn’t fun without him, so we stopped going to shul and were just going to lunches,” Fuchs said. “Then we stopped going to shul or going to lunch, and then I let the kids use electronic entertainment on second day.”

Rav Aharon Lopiansky (Jewish Action Magazine, 2019): There are oversimplified slogans that tend to come back to haunt their formulators. For the longest time, we have proclaimed religious superiority over Christianity and Islam with the following formula: “Those religions are all about believing, with action a mere appendage.”… [But] Judaism is about what you have done and accomplished. Even if you ‘believe,’ if you have transgressed and not accomplished you will go to Gehinnom.” This slogan was transmuted into the following caricature: “Judaism has no beliefs, just action.”… [However] the first [paragraph of Shema] is called “accepting the Yoke of Heaven”; the second is “accepting the Yoke of mitzvos.” They are not synonymous; they are complementary. The first paragraph provides the context for our world of mitzvos: acknowledging an all-encompassing G-d who is the sole Moral Force, and Whose moral proclamations are the source of all mitzvos. And only then do we commit ourselves to the fulfillment of the mitzvos themselves…Indeed, let us encourage keeping mitzvos, for as the Sefer HaChinuch writes, one’s inner self is affected greatly by his external actions. But let us never cease to remind ourselves that the world of mitzvos is preceded by the world of kabbalas ol Malchus Shamayim!

Rambam (Hilchot Melachim 9:1): Six precepts were commanded to Adam, and the prohibition against eating flesh from a living animal was added for Noach… These matters remained the same throughout the world until Avraham. When Avraham arose, in addition to these, he was commanded regarding circumcision. He also ordained the morning prayers. Yitzchak separated tithes and ordained an additional prayer service before sunset. Ya’akov added the prohibition against eating the sciatic nerve. He also ordained the evening prayers. In Egypt, Amram was commanded regarding other mitzvot. Ultimately, Moses came and the Torah was completed by him.

Questions for Discussion

Why is it difficult to observe mitzvot/halacha in a way that affects our inner spirituality? As individuals, families and communities, what can we do to address some of those difficulties?
For Rav Kook, tefillin are the paradigm for outward mitzvot Divinely designed to affect how we think and feel. What other mitzvot fit in this category?
How do you think Rav Kook would feel about Orthopraxy? (“The Orthoprax are an informal, incognito group of unknown size and scope who, for the most part, practice halachic norms but do not really believe in G-d (or that He chose us as the nation that would carry His moral message to mankind) or understand what they are doing. They might not even believe in the divine origin of the Torah, but identify themselves with the Orthodox community for social, ethnic, cultural or even aesthetic reasons.” (Rabbi Steven Pruzansky – The Rise of Orthopraxy))
Rav Kook does not elaborate about the dangers that result from tampering with the expansion of halachic observance and established stringencies like Yom Tov Sheni. What do you think he has in mind?
According to Rav Kook, the expansion of Jewish’s life’s outer dimension is necessary, but not ideal. Can you think of any other aspects of Torah law that are similarly necessary, but not ideal?

Di Zahav and The Glitter of Gold – Parshat Devarim

Printable PDF available here.

Ein Ayah (Gemara Berachot 32a)

At the beginning of Devarim, the Torah situates Moshe’s speech in reference to a number of places, including one called “Di Zahav.” The school of R. Yannai understood this as an allusion to the sin of the Golden Calf (zahav = gold). In the wake of that sin, Moshe said to G-d – “Master of the Universe, the gold and silver that you lavished upon Israel [as part of the Exodus from Egypt] until they said enough [lit. ‘dai’], that caused them to make the Golden Calf!” And according to R. Yonatan, G-d Himself ultimately conceded to Moshe. As the prophet Hoshea (2:10) states in G-d’s name, “I gave them an abundance of silver, and they used gold for the Ba’al.”

At first glance, this midrash is puzzling. How could Moshe blame the Israelites’ newfound wealth for the debacle of the Golden Calf? Is there really such an immutable connection between wealth and idolatry? Are rich people not expected to keep away from idolatry? And why did G-d lavish wealth upon the Israelites in the first place if he knew it would lead to a Golden Calf? This has to be more than a cute play on the words on Di Zahav, but what are our Sages getting at?

The answer to this question takes us to the very essence of the difference between avodat Hashem and idolatry. The foundation of avodat Hashem is a continual striving to come close to G-d, by refining oneself and attaining progressively higher levels of spiritual accomplishment. A person can never say “I’ve done enough, I’ve ‘made it’ and now I’m going to rest on my laurels.” After all, G-d is infinite. As one gets closer to Him, newer vistas of spiritual potential continuously upon up. The horizon is constantly receding.

Because G-d’s infinite nature is what creates the need for continuous spiritual growth, our limited minds cannot easily comprehend it. For this reason, G-d implanted in human nature an insatiable desire for wealth. This desire is not meant to be indulged thoughtlessly. It is a reflection, a reminder of the soul’s more refined longing to acquire true wealth, as part of perpetual journey of coming closer to the Divine. This was the reason that G-d showered Israel with wealth when they left Egypt.[1]

However, wealth only serves this deeper spiritual purpose when its bearer dwell independently and in their own land.[2]The desire for wealth expand and extends only in a context of normal economic activity and material development. However, during their time in the desert, the Jewish People were completely estranged from this reality. G-d provided all of their needs miraculously, without any need for initiative or effort on their part. This led to a sense of being overwhelmed with wealth, to the point that the people said ‘dai zahav!’ – ‘Enough gold, we do not need any more!’

The excess of gold led to a mindset of ‘dai,’ of contentedness about physical wealth. Eventually, that same mindset took hold with regard to spiritual matters as well. Instead of constantly striving for greater levels of spirituality, of awakening each day to climb another rung on the ladder between heaven and earth, they sought to arrive at the top. They wanted to arrive at the apex of spiritual perfection and lay down the burden, having arrived at the destination. But this is the root of idolatry. While G-d is infinite, the world of idolatry is one of limits. These limits are most pronounced in the crude idolatry of worshipping physical forms or representations. But even more ‘refined’ idolatry is defined by gods who are limited in the scope and extent of their power and their very being. Any idol wields power only at certain times and over a particular ‘jurisdiction’ of the created world – the god of the ocean is not the god of dry land, the god of death is not the god of life, and so on and so forth.

We can now answer each of the questions that we started with. We see how the Israelite’s mindset of ‘dai’ regarding their riches planted the seeds of the Golden Calf. According to our Sages, there is a deep spiritual connection between idolatry and a certain attitude to wealth – but not wealth per se. G-d was not setting up the people for failure by lavishing them with gold. He was giving them a catalyst for spiritual growth, but they failed to use it properly. Di Zahav is not a play on words, but a profound lesson about the need to chase the ever-receding horizon of closeness to G-d, and not fall prey to avodah zarah and its ideology of limitation.

Food for Thought

Rav Soloveitchik (Days of Deliverance, Pg. 164): Historically, the Jew has proven his ability to remain loyal and devoted to his tradition in poverty, in oppression, in distress. However, he failed miserably to prove his loyalty when his destiny was one of success and glorious achievements. We met the challenge of poverty and oppression and persecution with courage and determination, and we emerged victorious. However, with few exceptions, we have failed the challenge of affluence, of prominence in society. Jews have never lived as comfortably as we do now; never in Jewish history have we been as free as we are now, particularly in the United States. Moreover, the commitment of American Jewry to the Land of Israel is very impressive now. But many have not met with the required quality of heroism the challenge to commitment to observance and the ancient lifestyle that we have defended with our blood and tears and sweat.

Rabbis Levi Avtzon (Contemporary, Chabad.com): Our tradition seems to offer opposing views on wealth… So is wealth a blessing or a curse? The answer to all these questions is the same: It depends what you make of it. Wealth, like any means, is a potential. Potential is neither good nor bad; it’s neutral and colorless. The user gives it meaning and color. We take potential out of neutral and decide whether it will drive us forward or set us back into reverse.

Rav Soloveitchik (Derashot haRav, pg. 116-117): Within the non-Jewish world, one sees commendable responses to wealth. Wealthy nations foster culture, nurture creativity and spirituality contribute to science and the arts, and demonstrate generosity to their fellow man. America, for example, has weathered the trial of wealth over the last fifty years very well. The charity that America bestowed on their former enemies after both world wars is unsurpassed. The United States has built a great civilization and placed huge resources into its universities, music, and its literature. However, the non-Jewish world cannot tolerate the trial of poverty or the trial of suffering. The best example is Germany’s behavior as a nation after World War I. In response to military defeat and hyperinflation, it systematically exterminated twenty million people.

The Jew’s reaction to the experiences of both poverty and wealth is precisely the opposite. Historically, Jews have fared poorly when confronted with the trial of wealth. When a Jew acquires excessive wealth, he becomes animal-like. While the nations of the world divert a portion of their wealth towards spiritual matters, towards culture, towards higher ideals, under similar circumstances the Jew takes on the trappings of a vulgar, cynical materialism. “And Jeshurun became fat and rebelled (Devarim 32:15)” is the characteristic reaction of the Jew to wealth. Yet when confronted with the trial of poverty or suffering, the Jewish people have fared very well. A Jew does not spill blood when he is hungry When he is hungry he senses the hunger of his fellow; when he is cold, he feels his brother’s discomfort.

Vilna Gaon (Berachos 64a): The prophet Zechariah (3:7) describes angels as omdim— standing, while referring to humans as holchim— goers. Although angels are virtually flawless and on an extremely high spiritual level, this greatness actually limits them, as they remain static and unchanging throughout their entire existence. Humans, on the other hand, certainly make mistakes, but they also possess the unique ability of evolving and improving.

Tanach:

בראשית לא:וְעַתָּה הָלֹךְ הָלַכְתָּ, כִּי נִכְסֹף נִכְסַפְתָּה לְבֵית אָבִיךָ – לָמָּה גָנַבְתָּ אֶת אֱלֹהָי?

תהלים פד:נִכְסְפָה וְגַם כָּלְתָה נַפְשִׁי לְחַצְרוֹת ה’, לִבִּי וּבְשָׂרִי יְרַנְּנוּ אֶל אֵל חָי

איוב יד:תִּקְרָא וְאָנֹכִי אֶעֱנֶךָּ, לְמַעֲשֵׂה יָדֶיךָ תִכְסֹף

Questions for Discussion

What are some of the spiritual challenges presented by wealth?
How can a person constantly pursue spiritual growth without becoming unhappy with themselves and what they have accomplished?
Do you agree with Rav Kook’s argument that the desire for wealth has a spiritual dimension? Why or why not?
Take a look at the pasukim quoted above in “Food For Thought.” How might they support Rav Kook’s interpretation of the human desire for wealth?
What are some unhealthy attitudes towards wealth that you think are widespread in the Orthodox community. From where did these attitudes develop? Are they something we absorbed from the broader culture, or do we have only ourselves to blame?
Rav Kook writes that the desire for wealth reflects deeper, much more profound needs of the human soul. Can you think of any other desires that seem lowly on the surface, but really have a spiritual component to them?
What line in Birkat haChodesh supports Rav Kook’s understanding that wealth has a spiritual component to it?
What small step can you take in your own life to continue to grow religiously?

[1] According to the midrash, the Jews also collected riches from the Egyptian army at the Yam Suf. See Rashi on Shemot 15:22.

[2] In a portion not translated above, Rav Kook explains that G-d showered the people with wealth in anticipation of their needs in Eretz Yisrael. Although Hashem was providing everything in the desert, this would not last forever. It was Israel’s shortsightedness that led to the sense of being overwhelmed with wealth, that led to the attitude of ‘dai.’

Vows and the World of Emotion – Parshat Matot/Masei

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Printable PDF available here.

Ein Ayah (Gemara Shabbat 32b); Pinkasei haRe’iah (Vol. 1, pg. 170)

A complete religious life engages both the mind and the emotions of the heart. Every mitzvah has a role to play in developing our intellectual and emotional connection with G-d, but not every mitzvah acts in the same way. Certain mitzvot are primarily addressed to the intellect, while others engage mainly with the emotional realm.

The world of nedarim is associated primarily with the emotions. A neder usually comes from an outburst of intense feelings. Perhaps one is swept up in an overpowering sense of awe, fear, or gratitude that inspires a promise of greater dedication to G-d, or a measure of abstinence from the physical world. Or perhaps he takes a vow at a time of intense danger or trouble, pledging to improve himself if G-d sends His deliverance. In Parshat Matot, G-d warns us to be careful to fulfill our pledges – “If a man makes a vow to G-d or makes an oath to prohibit himself, he shall not violate his word; according to whatever came out of his mouth, he shall do” (Bamidbar 30:3). This is more than just a technical commandment about vows, as a surface reading might suggest. It is a warning to take the basis of vows – i.e. the world of emotions – seriously.

After all, G-d bestowed a tremendous gift upon us by making emotional faculties part of human nature. Proper emotional sensitivity bestirs us to rise above conduct that is base and lowly, and maintain our holy dignity. An emotionally attuned person can sense the goodness (or absence thereof) in matters of ethics, and the truth or falsehood in issues of practical conduct. Wherever life’s paths take him, his perception of kedushah assists in in discerning what is beautiful or shameful, and reinforces his intellectual attainments. G-d forbid that a person should suppress his G-d-given emotional sensitivities and serve his creator with intellect only! By admonishing us to fulfill our pledges, G-d is training us to recognize the value of holy feelings. One who belittles his vows and fails to fulfill them rejects the great benefit of this holy gift.

Emotional sensitivity is a particularly important focus of chinuch. The essence of chinuch is to imbue a child with a sensitivity to kedushah and ethical conduct, so that they have a healthy foundation to build on upon reaching intellectual maturity. The most fundamental failure of chinuch is to emphasize only what can be rationally comprehended and grasped by the intellect, without warmth or holy fire, without a sensitivity to the delight of living in Hashem’s presence through refined middot, the sanctity of Torah and avodat Hashem.

Indeed, the greater and more spiritually refined a person is, the more his emotional faculties are intensified. However, harnessing these emotions requires continuous work and refinement. It is because of Israel’s tremendous spiritual potential that G-d obligated us in so many mitzvot. Together, the mitzvot deepen our emotional resonance to ethical values and kedushah. רצה הקב׳ה לזכות את ישראל, לפיכך הרבה להם תורה ומצוות “G-d desired to refine and purify the Jewish people, and therefore gave them an abundance of mitzvot.”

Food for Thought

Relevance: Pirkei Avos for the Twenty-first Century (pg. 235-236): To help another person, one must be able to relate to his emotional needs and desires… A man once came to Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe for advice on what to do about his son’s over-involvement in soccer. The father wanted to know if it was responsible to place a limit on his son’s playing time…[of] half an hour. “Half an hour?!” exclaimed Rabbi Wolbe. “You can’t play anything in half an hour!” Rabbi Wolbe was eighty-six years old at the time and had never played a game of soccer in his life, yet he managed to relate to the boy’s attachment to the sport, sensing his love for the game. He thus understood that half an hour would do nothing to satisfy his need to play. The boy’s father, on the other hand, who was forty years Rabbi Wolbe’s junior…had tried to deal with the issue on a purely intellectual level, ignoring the boy’s passion for the game.

Rav Soloveitchik (The Rav, Vol. 2, pg. 172): As a child I used to feel stimulated, aroused, and deeply inspired. I used to experience a strange peaceful stillness. As a child I used to surrender, using the language of the mystics, to a stream of inflowing joy and ecstasy. In a word, as a young child I felt the presence of kedushah on these nights… Paradoxically, I must say that these emotions and experiences, however naive and childish, have always been the fountainhead of my religious life. My religious life has always been a colorful life. This achievement I derived from my childhood experience and not from my intellectual accomplishments.

Rav Soloveitchik (A Tribute to the Rebbetzin of Talne): What is torat imekha? What kind of a Torah does the mother pass on?… Permit me to draw upon my own experiences… I used to watch [my mother] arranging the house in honor of a holiday. I used to see her recite prayers; I used to watch her recite the sidra every Friday night and I still remember the nostalgic tune. I learned from her very much. Most of all I learned that Judaism expresses itself not only in formal compliance with the law but also in a living experience. She taught me that there is a flavor, a scent and warmth to mitzvot. I learned from her the most important thing in life – to feel the presence of the Almighty and the gentle pressure of His hand resting upon my frail shoulders. Without her teachings, which quite often were transmitted to me in silence, I would have grown up a soulless being, dry and insensitive. The laws of Shabbat, for instance, were passed on to me by my father; they are a part of mussar avikha. The Shabbat as a living entity, as a queen, was revealed to me by my mother… The fathers knew much about the Shabbat; the mothers lived the Shabbat, experienced her presence, and perceived her beauty and splendor. The fathers taught generations how to observe the Shabbat; mothers taught generations how to greet the Shabbat and how to enjoy her twenty-four hour presence.

A Journey Through Nach (Introduction to Melachim): The kings of Yisrael are connected with Yosef (for their first king was Yeravam, who was a descendant of Yosef), while the kings of Yehuda are from the tribe of Yehuda. And since a central trait of Yosef was emotion (regesh; in Bereishis, the Torah gives us three instances of Yosef crying), the kings of Yisrael were also governed by emotion. This trait is also true of Yosef’s sole maternal brother, Binyamin (perhaps this emotion originated from Rachel), which was the root of Shaul’s mistake in his misplaced mercy on the people of Amalek in Shmuel Aleph. In contrast, the kings of Yehuda inherited Yehuda’s trait of putting mind (sechel) over emotion, in the same way that Yehuda rose above the emotions displayed by his brothers, and managed to save Yosef from death in the pit by suggesting that he be sold instead. Thus, Shlomo Hamelech, a descendant of Yehuda, was the epitome of this trait of sechel. It is perhaps for this reason that, in general, the kings of Yehuda were more loyal to Hashem than the kings of Yisrael; for they had greater wisdom, and could recognize Hashem’s ultimate control without being blindly led by emotions. We learn that emotions are important, but they have to be tied down and governed by sechel (intellect).

David Hazony (Human Responsibility in the Thought of R. Eliezer Berkovits): The mistaken belief that man can be made good solely through preparation of the mind is, in [R. Eliezer] Berkovits’ view, the salient tragedy of Western civilization… [B]eginning with Christianity… Western man as represented by European thought has associated the question of morality almost exclusively with the question of what a truncated, spiritualized actor, possessing only reason or faith, ought to do. The question of how, once right action has been determined, one is to overcome inner obstacles to taking the proper action is understood, when it is considered at all, to be a separate issue, relating to other realms such as psychology or education. The result was that despite centuries of moral teaching, Western man was never able to overcome the intrinsic amorality of his material element. The rise of murderous regimes in the heart of the most philosophically developed civilization stood for Berkovits as testimony to the West’s failure to grasp the nature of morality. [As he wrote] “In this respect, there seems to be little difference between ages of greater or lesser enlightenment; except that, in times of greater intellectual advancement, as knowledge increases, man grows in power proportionately and becomes correspondingly more dangerous…. Notwithstanding enlightenment, man seems to remain an essentially unethical being.”

Questions for Discussion

Rav Kook discusses the dangers of Jewish life without emotional depth. What are some dangers that come with an overemphasis on emotion, at the expense of the intellect?
How does one know if they’ve struck the right balance between intellect and emotion as an individual? As a community?
Who can you think of in your life that models a deep, emotional attachment to G-d and Jewish life?
Rav Soloveitchik seems to write that women have more sensitivity to the emotional texture of Jewish life than men do. Do you agree?
Do you think our culture emphasizes intellect more than emotion, or vice versa? On what basis?
Did your upbringing/education put emphasis on intellect or emotion? Or were the two balanced?
The first time we find a neder in the Torah is by Ya’akov (Bereishit 28:20, after he wakes up from his vision of the ladder. Re-read that parshah in light of Rav Kook’s insights on nedarim. Does it seem like Ya’akov’s neder has an emotional component to it?