Avraham and Aaron Joining Hands – Parshat Chayei Sarah

Printable PDF available here. Previous pieces on Chayei Sarah are available here and here.

Rav Kook (Based on Orot haKodesh, Vol. 3, Pg. 337)

And Avraham was old, advanced in days, and G-d had blessed Avraham with everything (lit. בכל). (Bereishit 24:1)

Our tradition identifies both Avraham and Aaron as paragons of chesed, but it is clear that they represent chesed of fundamentally different types. Avraham’s chesed poured forth upon all members of humanity –  not only for those who shared his spiritual commitments, but even for his wayward nephew Lot, for the sinful inhabitants of Sodom, even for wandering strangers in the desert. By contrast, our Sages teach that Aaron’s chesed was concentrated on the Jewish people, on making peace between estranged friends and spouses.

To express the trait of chesed in the truest sense, in a manner consistent with the ultimate aspirations of the Torah, the splendorous lights of both Avraham and Aaron must be joined and illumine as one. Our Torah declares in the same breath that “Man is beloved for he was created in G-d’s image… and beloved is Israel for the precious treasure [of the Torah] was given to them.” (Pirkei Avot 3:14)

When we live with this reality, an incredible thing happens. The worlds of Avraham’s chesed and Aaron’s chesed enhance each other, creating a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. The universal, undifferentiated chesed of Avraham is uplifted and enhanced through the focused, qualitative greatness of Aaron’s chesed. Indeed, our Sages teach (GemaraNedarim 32b) that in the wake of Avraham’s encounter with Malchizedek, who was the incumbent “Kohen of the Lord” (Bereishit 14:18), G-d resolved to transfer the priesthood to Avraham and his descendants.[1] The universal aspirations of Avraham and the inward-focus of Aaron are meant to merge together, to build a complete spiritual edifice that integrates awe of Divine majesty and peace together. “At that time, they will call Jerusalem ‘Throne of G-d,’ and all nations shall gather to it in the name of G-d, to Jerusalem

[1] In the Hebrew, Rav Kook alludes to a gemara (Nedarim 32b) about why the priesthood was removed from Malchizedek: The Holy One, Blessed be He, wanted the priesthood to emerge from Shem, so that his children would be priests, as it is stated: “And Malchizedek king of Salem brought forth bread and wine; and he was priest of God the Most High” (Genesis 14:18). But once Malchizedek, traditionally identified as Shem, put the blessing of Abraham before the blessing of G-d, He had the priesthood emerge from Abraham in particular, and not from any other descendant of Shem. As it is stated: “And he blessed him and said: Blessed be Abram of God Most High, Maker of heaven and earth, and blessed be God the Most High” (Genesis 14:19–20). Abraham said to him: Does one place the blessing of the servant before the blessing of his master? You should have blessed God first. Immediately the Holy One, Blessed be He, gave the priesthood to Abraham, as it is stated: “The Lord says to my lord: Sit at My right hand, until I make your enemies your footstool” (Psalms 110:1), and afterward it is written: “The Lord has sworn, and will not repent: you shall be a priest forever, because you are a king of righteousness (lit. על דברתי מלכי צדק)” (Psalms 110:4), which is explained homiletically to mean: Due to the improper words [divrati] of Malchizedek, the offspring of Abraham shall be priests of God forever. And this is as it is written: “And he [emphasis added] was priest of God the Most High,” i.e. he was a priest, but his children will not be priests.

Food for Thought

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein (To Cultivate and to Guard: The Universal Duties of Mankind”): berit (covenant) is something special and unique; by definition, it delineates a particular relationship between God and a specific community. What then happens to more universal elements? Do these fall away because of the exclusivity of the new relationship? Or do we regard the new relationship as being superimposed upon the old, but not at odds with it?

Even according to the latter approach, at times there may be a conflict between a universal value and a specific one. Fundamentally, however, this approach regards the specific covenant as complementing and building on top of the universal covenant, rather than replacing it and rendering it obsolete. According to this approach, we do not believe that what existed until now was merely scaffolding which was needed until the building was complete, but now that the building is finished, everything else is insignificant. Instead, we assume that whatever commitments, demands and obligations devolve upon a person simply as a member of the universal community, will also apply to him within his unique context as well; but in addition, there are also new demands.

Rav Shimson Raphael Hirsch (cited in Horeb, pg. 270): It is, therefore, the Jewish task, as symbolized by the Sanctuary, to lift up the human element in man on to the plane of the Divine law; but the Jewish task and the Jewish consciousness are not something which should be separated from the human task and from human consciousness. The Jewish task must not be conceived as something alien to and divorced from the human task. Never must we think that the Jewish element in us could exist without the human element or vice versa. The Jewish element in us presupposes the human element; it builds on it, ennobles it and brings it to perfection. The Jew cannot fulfill his calling in isolation, but only within human society. The highest perfection of the Jew is nothing but the highest perfection of his task as a human being…Pure Judaism always returns to pure humanism.

David Berger (Jews, Gentiles, and the Modern Egalitarian Ethos): There is, however, a different strain in the tradition. It is very well known that Judah Halevi ascribed a special divine element to the Jewish people accounting most notably for the restriction of prophecy to Jews. This element was latent even in Terah, though it abandoned the Jews, at least in its manifest form, during the exile. Converts purify their soul through the pursuit of Jewish practices, but in the first generation they remain excluded from prophecy. A perusal of this skeletal and perhaps tendentious summary makes it clear, I think, that even Halevi speaks of a distinction that does not cut to the very core. The divine element can somehow be attained within two generations through spiritual effort, and it can be submerged during conditions of adversity. Halevi’s converts are not excluded from the drawbacks of the gentile soul because they stood at Sinai; at the same time, the purification resulting from observance of the Torah does not appear to be directed to the uprooting of a deep seated, metaphysical filth.

Maharal provides a somewhat stronger contrast. Jews, including converts, possess a soul that is more separated from the body than that of gentiles and hence less susceptible to its influence. In addition, it is better prepared for spirituality, so that Jews are more resistant to passions and more receptive to Torah. These and other differences affirmed by Maharal are surely profound, but even they do not amount to the existential chasm that appears in some kabbalistic texts and reaches a crescendo in certain forms of hasidic thought, most notably the Tanya. All people, we are told, have a soul formed from the husks (qelippah), but the Jewish soul is from qelippat nogah, which contains good. The gentile soul, on the other hand, is from the other three qelippot, “which contain no good at all” (she-ein bahem tov kelal). In addition, Jews have a divine soul (nefesh elokit), “a part of God above,” which is entirely absent in gentiles. While “no good” may well mean only “no accessible good,” we find here a stark contrast on the deepest existential level.

I see no honest way to mitigate the force of this position significantly, but someone more conversant with hasidic thought may. An unqualified affirmation that there is no good in gentiles flies in the face of a mountain of contrary evidence: the creation of all human beings in the image of God, the ability of gentiles to become gerei toshav, their capacity to become hasidei ummot ha-olam and attain a portion in the world to come, their potential, even if only metaphorically, to be like high priests. Whatever the approach of the Ba’al ha-Tanya may have been to these texts, we are in any event not dealing with binding doctrine. A believing Jew is free to reject the positions of Halevi, of the Maharal and of the Baal ha-Tanya on this matter and embrace the position that whatever advantages the chosenness of Israel confers, they do not extend to a radical difference in the essential makeup of the Jewish soul.

Micha 7:20: תִּתֵּ֚ן אֱמֶת֙ לְיַֽעֲקֹ֔ב חֶ֖סֶד לְאַבְרָהָ֑ם אֲשֶׁר־נִשְׁבַּ֥עְתָּ לַֽאֲבֹתֵ֖ינוּ מִ֥ימֵי קֶֽדֶם.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Covenant and Conversation, Noach 5778): After the Flood, He taught Noach and through him all humanity, that we should think, not of ourselves but of the human other as in the image of God. That is the only way to save ourselves from violence and self-destruction. This really is a life-changing idea. It means that the greatest religious challenge is: Can I see God’s image in one who is not in my image – whose colour, class, culture or creed is different from mine? People fear people not like them. That has been a source of violence for as long as there has been human life on earth. The stranger, the foreigner, the outsider, is almost always seen as a threat. But what if the opposite is the case? What if the people not like us enlarge rather than endanger our world?… This is the insight expressed in the famous rabbinic statement: “When a human being makes many coins in the same mint, they all come out the same. God makes us all in the same mint, the same image, His image, and we all come out different.” This is the basis of what I call – it was the title of one of my books – the dignity of difference.

This is a life-changing idea. Next time we meet someone radically unlike us, we should try seeing difference not as a threat but as an enlarging, possibility-creating gift. After the Flood, and to avoid a world “filled with violence” that led to the Flood in the first place, God asks us to see His image in one who is not in my image. Adam knew that he was in the image of God. Noach and his descendants are commanded to remember that the other person is in the image of God.

Rav Kook (Midot ha’Reiah, Ahavah 2): Love for all of G-d’s creations must be established first in one’s heart, after that love for all of humanity, and only after that love of Israel (lit. אהבת ישראל) within which the other loves are subsumed. [For insasmuch as Israel’s destiny is to rectify all of existence, love of Israel is inseparable from love of humanity.]

Questions for Discussion

  1. Where in Chumash does Avraham show an inclination to chesed? Where does he act seemingly without chesed?
  2. What does it mean to be created in the image of G-d?
  3. What is more important – qualitative excellence (Aaron) or quantitative excellence (Avraham)?
  4. Why and how is racism antithetical to Torah values?
  5. What are the dangers of too much universalism? Of too much particularism?
  6. See the excerpt from R. Samson Raphael Hirsch above in “Food for Thought.” Is he saying the same thing as R. Kook?
  7. Rav Kook says that the qualitative excellence of Aaron-chesed enhances the quantitative excellence of Avraham-chesed. What do you think this means? (See Midot ha’Reiah in “Food for Thought” above for a possible answer.)

The Cave of Potential – Parshat Chayei Sarah

Maarat-Hamachpela.jpg

Printable PDF available here.

Rav Kook (Shemuot Re’iah, 5690)

The idea of kiddushin is central to the Torah’s concept of family life. One of the primary sources of kiddushin is derived from Avraham’s acquisition of ma’arat ha’Machpelah, based on a linkage between key words in each context (lit. gezeirah shavah). Our Sages (Gemara Kiddushin, 2a) teach that just as Avraham was able to acquire ma’arat ha’Machpelah by giving Ephron something of monetary value, so too one can take a woman to be his wife by giving her something of monetary value.

This linkage is intriguing, if not outright bizarre. What does Avraham’s acquisition of a burial plot in Eretz Yisrael have to do with kiddushin? What could possibly be the common thread that unites these two contexts?

The first step to resolving this puzzle is the fact that kiddushin does not generate a full marital relationship.[1]The woman becomes prohibited to all other men, but until the later stage of nisuin,[2]they are not allowed to live with each other, the man is not yet fully responsible to financially support the woman, and the two are not considered fully married for a variety of other halachic categories. Broadly speaking, kiddushin represents the idea of potential sanctity, of designation and preparation for the future fullness of married life.

The same dynamic, the same division between potential and actualization, is not limited to marriage. It governs another profound relationship – namely, the connection between the Jewish People and Eretz Yisrael. Several generations after Avraham, his descendants would enter the land under Yehoshua’s leadership and embark on a military conquest to wrest possession from the Canaanite nations. This was the conquest ‘in actuality,’ but it could not have succeeded without the spiritual groundwork laid by the Avotand Imahot. They were the first conquerors of the land – ‘in potential.’

All of Eretz Yisrael had to be imbued with the capacity for kedushah, but this type of sanctity was rooted primarily in Chevron.[3]In contrast, the manifestation of kedushah was focused in Yerushalayim. For this reason, we find that when G-d commanded Avraham, “Arise, walk through the land, its length and breadth” (Bereishit 13:17), he immediately settled in Chevron. Similarly, King David began his rulership in Chevron, and only later moved to Yerushalayim. And, as our Sages teach (Gemara Yoma, 28b), when the sacrificial service began on Yom Kippur morning, the Kohanim did not ask “Has daylight broken?” but rather “Has the sun arrived at Chevron?”

All of this highlights that Chevron is where Am Yisrael, the descendants of the Avot and Imahot, grounds itself and nurtures its potential for kedushah and its connection to the Holy Land. It cannot be any other way. Israel cannot simply march into Yerushalayim, build a Temple and ‘flip a switch’ to bring the Shechinah’s revelation.[4]That process must be grounded in our spiritual potential and historical destiny, all of which were established by those great souls whose bodies are buried in the ma’arat ha’Machpelah.

Based on this analysis, we can also explain why Sarah was the first to be buried in ma’arat ha’Machpelah. Avraham’s burial of Sarah was not just a personal tragedy, but also the foundation of Israel’s future inheritance and the first step in the sanctification of the land. Sarah’s unique sensitivity to kedushah spurred her demand that Avraham expel Yishmael, so that the “nation which dwells alone” could develop from Yitzchak. Without Yitzchak being separated from Yishmael, Eretz Yisrael could not have been separated from the rest of the world. Thus, it is Sarah who we have to thank for guaranteeing to Am Yisrael our special heritage of Eretz Yisrael.

[1]In modern times, kiddushin and nisuin are performed on the same day, at the wedding ceremony, but in Talmudic times, they were separated by a significant period of time, up to twelve months (Gemara Ketubot 48b).

[2]There are a number of different opinions on what constitutes nisuin. For example, the Ran cites a view that describes nisu’in as the bride entering the husband’s ‘domain’ for the purposes of marriage (which is the source of the contemporary ‘yichud room’ after the chupah ceremony). Other Rishonim maintain that the bride going out with her special head covering marks the beginning of nisu’in. And others claim that nisuin is when the chuppah covering is spread over the bride.

[3]Rav Kook uses this to explain the deeper meaning of why Chevon is described (Bamidbar 13:22) as being built “seven years before Zoan of Egypt.” Due to the esoteric nature of his comments and limited space for translating them to English, they are reproduced below in the Hebrew original:

ואמרו בזוהר ״צען״ לשון רברבתא (מקום שרים). אם כי המלוכה היתה במצרים, אבל מקום רברבתא היה בצען.(צוען דמרבי ביה מלכי, כלומר מחנכים ומאמנים בני המלכים, דכתיב ׳כי היו בצוען שריה.) גם דרגת חברון הוא מול צען… ולכן נקראת מצרים ״מרכבת המשנה״, כי שני המקומות ״צען ומצרים״ הם היפך הקדושה של חברון וירושלים. והיו צריכים לטהר את מצרים ע״י גלותו של יוסף, הנקרא צדיק יסוד עולם. ואמר אח״כ ״שמני אלהים לאדון לכל מצרים״ כדי להכניע אותה הטומאה.

[4]Rav Kook notes, based on the Gemara in Bava Batra (117a), that the concept of future sanctity found expression in the unusual system that Yehoshua used to divide up Eretz Yisrael. According to one opinion in the gemara, the land was deemed apportioned to the Israelites who left Egypt — even though they had died in the midbar and never made it to Eretz Yisrael. Usually, it is the living who inherit the dead — i.e., the number of living descendants determines how an inheritance is divided. But here, it was the other way around: the dead determined how the living would inherit land. In other words, we take Eretz Yisrael not by virtue of our own personhood or entitlement, but by being connected to those who came before us.

Food for Thought

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Commentary on the Torah, Bereishit 23:19): The first possession which the Jewish race received of their land was a row of pairs of graves which the first Jew bought to be used for his wife and then for himself and for his son and his grandson and their respective wives. The thought of the value of the family tie which attaches the heart of husband to wife, and children to parents was henceforth inseparably connected with the Jewish land, formed henceforth the fundamental trait of the character of the Jews, and enabled them to become what they became. Perhaps the name Chevron which henceforth was added to the place also came from this. For Chevronmeans: the intimate union, the most appropriate name for the close intimacy which makes Jewish men and women grow together in unison as husband and wife, as father and mother. Centuries later, when their descendants had flourished into a great nation, no daily offering was allowed to rise from the height of Moriah in Jerusalem before the priestly herald at the turret of the Temple could see the rays of morning shining on the graves of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs at Chevron – kibud av v’em is for Jews the preliminary condition for, and the root of kavod ha’Makom.

Ramban (Bereishit 23:19):Avraham’s purchase of ma’arat ha’Machpelah teaches us the many acts of kindness that G-d did for Avraham. For ha became “a prince of G-d: in the land, even though he had come only to sojourn and he was a lone individual. Also, everyone called him “my lord,” even though he never referred to himself this way or told them that he was a prince or important person. This was a fulfilment of G-d’s promise “I will make your name great and you shall be a blessing…” Also, the Torah wanted to tell us of the place of our saintly ancestors’ burial, inasmuch as we are obliged to honor that place. However, our Rabbis say that this episode [was not a Divine kindness but rather] was one of Avraham’s tests, that he sought a place in which to bury Sarah, and [even though G-d had promised him the Land] he couldn’t find one until he purchased it. I don’t understand the explanation of Ibn Ezra, who says that this section tells us of the eminence of Israel for the living and dead, and also shows the fulfilment of G-d’s promise that Avraham would inherit the land. For what eminence do we see here? Where else was Avraham supposed to bury Sarah if not in Eretz Yisrael? He wasn’t going to take her body to another country to bury her! And G-d’s promise was about the whole of Eretz Yisrael, not just a single burial cave and its field. It is clear that the promise of the Land was only fulfilled in the future, for Avraham’s offspring.

Rav Soloveitchik (Out of the Whirlwind, pg. 32): However, Sarah was not only Abrahams mate, but his comrade as well. collaborator and co-participant in all the great plans, hopes and visions. Together they discovered G-d; together they discovered a new morality; together they joined the covenant. In a word, Sarah and Abraham started the mesorah, the tradition. Not only Abraham taught the people, but Sarah as well: Abraham would convert the men and Sarah the women (Bereishis Rabbah 39:14). Now the mother is dead and the mesorah has a father but no mother. The mesorah is incomplete… Abraham’s historical mission could not have been implemented without Sarah’s participation. Both appeared together in Jewish history. Upon Sarah’s death, Abraham lost this mission. Just as Sarah’s tent was passed to Rebecca, the House of Abraham was given to Isaac. Abraham mourned over Sarah, but also over the fact that he had to withdraw from the pesach ha’ohel, the front of the tent, into the shadows.

Questions for Discussion

  1. Are there any areas of your life where you have untapped potential? What is one small step you can take to actualize that potential?
  2. What are other possible connections between the establishment of a Jewish home (i.e. kiddushin) and the purchase of ma’arat ha’Machpelah? Are there other properties that the two have in common? Or perhaps one is meant to bring out a deeper understanding of the other?
  3. Read Rav Hirsch’s comments above in “Food for Thought.” How does his explanation differ from Rav Kook’s and how is it similar?
  4. What happens when a person tries to accomplish something ‘in actuality’ without laying the groundwork ‘in potential’?
  5. Rav Kook states that our connection to Israel has to be rooted in spiritual foundations laid by our Avot and Imahot. What do you think that says about the feasibility of secular Zionism?
  6. Kiddushin is related to the work kodesh/kedushah. How does the Torah’s idea of marriage create kedushah?

Room to Grow – Parshat Chayei Sarah

Translation: Ein Ayah (Berachot 26b)

יצחק תקן תפלת מנחה שנאמר ויצא יצחק לשוח בשדה לפנות ערב ואין שיחה אלא תפלה שנאמר תפלה לעני כי יעטף ולפני ה׳ ישפך שיחו.

Yitzchak instituted the Mincha prayer, as it is stated: “And Yitzchak went out to converse [lit. לשוח] in the field toward evening” (Bereishit 24:63), and שיחה means prayer, as it is stated: “A prayer of the afflicted when he is faint and pours out his words [lit. שיחו] before God” (Tehillim 102:1).[1]

This statement of our Sages raises three questions that we must address:

  • What is the significance of the term שיחה?
  • Why is it particularly associated with the prayer of minchah?
  • And why is it specifically associated with Yitzchak, as opposed to the other Avot?

The answer lies in an interesting feature of the Hebrew language – the same term that our Sages apply to Yitzchak’s prayer (שיחה) is also used for grass and other forms of plant life.[2] This points to an inner connection between the plant world and the world of prayer.

Prayer can allow the soul to flower[3] and rejuvenate, bringing forth buds of new spiritual capacities. This mode is most suited to the late afternoon period, when a person is able to cast off the worldly and temporal burdens of the workday.[4] [5] At that point, his soul ascends towards God in accordance with its innate yearning for the Divine. Latent feelings of holiness were fettered during the workday, but now find free expression in a desire to cling to the Living God and strive mightily in pure love and reverence of Him. These buds will ripen into fruits and give forth branches and flowers.[6]

This blossoming of spiritual potential through prayer is a natural expression of the soul’s innate uprightness. It isn’t foreign to the soul or imposed from without. In this regard, the שיחה–prayer it is rooted in the Divine attribute of strict justice (lit. מדת הדין), which exacts consequences anytime someone deviates from the natural order. From the perspective of the מדת הדין, punishment is not vindictive or even retributive. It is simply a natural consequence that grows out of the poisoned soil of sin – woven, as it were, into the very nature of the soul.

And we know that Yitzchak is associated [7] with מדת הדין. For this reason, the שיחה mode of prayer is particularly associated with (i) Yitzchak, as opposed to Avraham or Ya’akov, and (ii) the Minchah prayer, which is an opportunity for the natural yearning of the soul to blossom.

[1]    The gemara brings other verses to demonstrate that Avraham established the Shacharit prayer and that Ya’akov established Ma’ariv.

[2]    See Bereishit 2:5 (כל שיח השדה טרם יהיה בארץ) and Bereishit 21:15 (ותשלך את הילד תחת אחד השיחם). It is fascinating to note that each of these sources is connected with the notion of tefilah:

  1. a) The midrash, quoted by Rashi on Bereishit 2:5, tells us that Hashem didn’t bring rain to facilitate plant growth until Adam davened.
  2. b) The connection of prayer with the story of Yishmael and Hagar’s wandering in the desert is clear on a level of p’shat. Note also that Yishmael’s name comes from God answering Hagar’s prayer the first time she was cast out (see Bereishit 16:11).

[3]    Rav Kook uses the term “הפרחת הנפש.”

[4]    In this light, note that the word מנחה comes from the word “נח,” or “rest,” as the afternoon is the period that the sun descends in the sky and eventually sets. See Ramban al-haTorah (Shemot 12:16).

[5]    You may be thinking “But I get work-related e-mails all day and never get to clock out at sundown!” Belive me, as a working professional, I can empathize with you. We should bear in mind that Rav Kook is formulating a spiritual typology.

[6]    There is a rich literature of Torah sources that connecting trees to man’s spiritual development, based on the pasuk כי האדם עץ השדה in Devarim 20:19. See here and here for representative examples. Poets and thinkers numbered among the chachmei ha’umot have also been sensitive to the deeper spiritual dimension of trees – see here, here, and here.

[7]    Rav Kook cites the verse ופחד יצחק היה לי (Bereishit 31:12). The connection between Yitzchak and מדת הדין appears in many sources, and is also evident on a p’shat level. Yitzchak is the most passive and withdrawn of all of the Avot. Further, his highest spiritual accomplishment is one of sacrifice (i.e. the Akeidah), which embodies the negation associated with מדת הדין.

[8]    Olat Re’iah, Inyanei Tefilah #2.

Commentary

This piece expands our understanding of what tefilah has the power to be. It is not merely another halachic obligation to satisfy by rote or and it’s not even an opportunity to present requests to God or converse with Him. It is something far more – the expression of the soul’s innate desire to connect profoundly with God. If you’re like me, this desire is not something you feel or are conscious of on a regular basis when you open your siddur. Maybe if you’re lucky you feel it a little at Neilah. But Rav Kook believed that the “soul is always praying,” and that fixed times for prayer are just opportunities when the constant prayer of the soul finds active expression.[8]

Rav Kook’s description of tefilah is lofty and feels beyond our reach. But what would happen if, the next time we struggle with kavanah during davening, we reminded ourselves of this teaching about how our souls are waiting for their chance to blossom. We’re not trying to create kavanah from nothing, the kavanah is already there and waiting for us to help it sprout.

Questions for Discussion and Reflection

  1. The ‘שיחה’ mode of tefilah as described by Rav Kook sounds like it requires a really high spiritual level. What are some of the challenges that make it hard for us to experience this kind of tefilah?
  2. In this piece, Rav Kook discusses prayer as an expression of the soul’s innate desire to connect with God. What could be other expressions of this desire?
  3. Is Rav Kook’s lofty depiction of prayer as “blossoming of spiritual potential” relevant to someone who is davening minchah from a siddur, with the fixed text that we use today? Or do you think Rav Kook is talking about prayer that is more improvised and spontaneous?
  4. Have you ever heard of Divine punishment being a natural consequence of sin, like getting burned when you stick your hand in a fire, or is that a new approach for you? Compare and contrast the ramifications of this approach with punishment as discipline, retribution, etc.

About This Piece

Ein Ayah is a commentary on the aggadic portions of the Talmud, specifically Berachot, Shabbat and Seder Zeraim. Rav Kook began writing Ein Ayah when he was a young rav in Lithuania, and continued adding material until the end of his life. Ein Ayah seeks to extract profound and fundamental principles of Torah hashkafa from the world of Aggadah.[1] It is an excellent introduction to Rav Kook’s thought, inasmuch as the pieces tend to be more shorter and self contained and less esoteric than many of Rav Kook’s other worlds. While Ein Ayah has never been translated in its entirety into English, selected excerpts have been published by Betzalel Naor in Of Societies Perfect and Imperfect. An online course from WebYeshiva covering Ein Ayah on Masechet Shabbat is available here.

[1]    As opposed to much of the traditional commentary on Aggadah (i.e. Maharsha and the commentaries printed with Ein Ya’akov) which is less systematic and takes a piecemeal approach to connecting Aggadah with major principles of hashkafa.