There You Shall Seek – Parshat Re’eh

Note – The past week has been a hectic one, as I am following in Rav Kooks’ footsteps and making aliyah in mid-August. All of the packing and planning left little time this week for preparing a d’var Torah from Rav Kook. As a result, this week’s piece is excerpted from Rabbi Chanan Morrison’s excellent work “Sapphire from the Land of Israel”

Rav Kook (Adapted from Shemu’ot HaRe’iyah (Beha’alotecha)

Surprisingly, the Torah never spells out exactly where the Temple is to be built. Rather we are instructed to build the Beit HaMikdash “in the place that God will choose. “Only to the place that the Eternal your God will choose from all your tribes to set His Name — there you shall seek His dwelling place, and go there.” (Deut. 12:5). Where is this place “that God will choose”? What does it mean that we should “seek out His dwelling place”?

The Sages explained that the Torah is commanding us, under the guidance of a prophet, to discover where the Beit HaMikdash should be built. King David undertook the search for this holy site with the help of the prophet Samuel.

Why didn’t the Torah explicitly state the location where to build the Temple? Moses certainly knew that the Akeidah took place on Mount Moriah in Jerusalem, and he knew that Abraham had prophesied that this would be the site of the Beit HaMikdash. 1

Maimonides (Guide to the Perplexed III: 45) suggested that Moses wisely chose not to mention Jerusalem explicitly. Had he done so, the non-Jewish nations would have realized Jerusalem’s paramount importance to the Jewish people and would have fought fiercely to prevent it from falling into Israel’s hands.

Even worse, knowledge of Jerusalem’s significance could have led to infighting among the tribes. Each tribe would want the Beit HaMikdash to be located in its territory. The result could have been an ugly conflict, similar to Korach’s rebellion against Aaron’s appointment to the position of High Priest. Maimonides reasoned that this is why the Torah commands that a king be appointed before building the Beit HaMikdash. This way the Temple’s location would be determined by a strong central government, thus avoiding inter-tribal conflict and rivalry.

In any case, David did not know where the Beit HaMikdash was to be built. According to the Talmud (Zevachim 54b), his initial choice fell on Ein Eitam, a spring located to the south of Jerusalem. Ein Eitam appeared to be an obvious choice since it is the highest point in the entire region. This corresponds to the Torah’s description that “You shall rise and ascend to the place that the Eternal your God will choose” (Deut.17:8). However, David subsequently considered a second verse that alludes to the Temple’s location. At the end of his life, Moses described the place of God’s Divine Presence as “dwelling between his shoulders” (Deut. 33:12). What does this mean?

This allegory suggests that the Temple’s location was not meant to be at the highest point, but a little below it, just as the shoulders are below the head. Accordingly, David decided that Jerusalem, located at a lower altitude than Ein Eitam, was the site where the Beit HaMikdash was meant to be built.

Doeg, head of the High Court, disagreed with David. He supported the original choice of Ein Eitam as the place to build the Temple. The Sages noted that Doeg’s jealousy of David was due to the latter’s success in discovering the Temple’s true location.

The story of David’s search for the site of the Beit HaMikdash is alluded to in one of David’s “Songs of Ascent.” Psalm 132 opens with a plea: “Remember David for all his trouble” (Ps. 132:1). What was this trying labor that David felt was a special merit, a significant life achievement for which he wanted to be remembered?

The psalm continues by recounting David’s relentless efforts to locate the place of the Temple. David vowed: “I will not enter the tent of my house, nor will I go up to the bed that was spread for me. I will not give sleep to my eyes, nor rest to my eyelids — until I find God’s place, the dwellings of the Mighty One of Jacob.” (Ps. 132: 3-5)

What was the crux of the dispute between David and Doeg? Doeg reasoned that the most suitable site for the Temple is the highest point in Jerusalem, reflecting his belief that the spiritual greatness of the Temple should only be accessible to the select few, those who are able to truly grasp the purest levels of enlightenment — the kohanim and the spiritual elite.

David, on the other hand, understood that the Temple and its holiness need to be the inheritance of the entire people of Israel. The kohanim are not privy to special knowledge; they are merely agents who influence and uplift the people with the Temple’s holiness. The entire nation of Israel is described as a “kingdom of priests” (Ex. 19:6).

Even though Ein Eitam was never sanctified, it still retained a special connection to the Beit HaMikdash, as its springs supplied water for the Beit HaMikdash. The Talmud relates that on Yom Kippur, the High Priest would immerse himself in a mikveh on the roof of the Beit HaParvah chamber in the Temple complex. In order for the water to reach this roof, which was 23 cubits higher than the ground floor of the Temple courtyard, water was diverted from the Ein Eitam springs, which were also located at this altitude.

Rav Kook explained that there exists a special connection between Ein Eitam and the High Priest’s purification on Yom Kippur. While the Beit HaMikdash itself needs to be accessible to all, the purification of the High Priest must emanate from the highest possible source. Yom Kippur’s unique purity and power of atonement originate in the loftiest realms, corresponding to the elevated springs of Ein Eitam.

Mountain Climbing – Parshat Re’eh

Printable PDF is available here. Last year’s piece of Parshat Re’eh is available here.

Please share with friends and anyone who might be interested!

Rav Kook (She’muot Re’iah, excerpted in P’ninei ha’Re’iah)

But only to the place which the Lord your G-d shall choose from all your tribes, to set His Name there; you shall seek after His dwelling and come there. (Devarim 5:12)

David and Shmuel noted that the pasuk says “Then you shall arise, and get you up unto the place which the Lord your G-d shall choose” (Devarim 17:8). This teaches that the Temple is higher than all places in Eretz Yisrael. And Eretz Yisrael is higher than all countries… … They thought to build the Mikdash at Ein Eitam, which is higher than any other place in the portion of Benjamin. Then they said: Let us lower it a bit, as it is written: “He hovers above it throughout the day, and He dwells between his shoulders” (Devarim 33:12). This indicates that the Temple is situated slightly lower, between two peaks…

And with regard to this matter, that David and Shmuel discovered the location of the Temple, Doeg the Edomite[1]was jealous of David, as it is written: “Because jealousy for Your House has eaten me up” (Tehillim 69:10), and it is written: “Lord, remember for David all his affliction; how he swore to the Lord, and vowed unto the Mighty One of Jacob: I will not come into the tent of my house, nor go up into the bed that is spread for me; if I will give sleep to my eyes, or slumber to my eyelids; until I find a place for the Lord, a dwelling place for the Mighty One of Jacob” (Tehillim 132:1–5). (Gemara Zevachim 54b)

What exactly was the point of contention between David and Doeg regarding the proper location of the Mikdash? Chazal teach us (Gemara Sanhedrin 93b) that Doeg was not a mere ignoramus, but the head of the Sanhedrin itself and – until he became corrupt and wicked – a towering spiritual personality. And why did David originally agree with Doeg’s position but later change his mind? This must be more than a mere dispute about the Biblical zoning codes, or else our Sages would not have recorded it for posterity. What is the lesson for us?

The matter seems as follows. Doeg believed that the sanctity of the Mikdash was meant to be supernal. Its holiness was to hover above our world, inaccessible and beyond the reach of the average person. Fundamentally, Doeg claimed, the sanctity of the Mikdash was for the spiritual elite – primarily the Kohanim – and was not a democratic in nature. The location he chose for the Mikdash, at the highest point in Jerusalem, was simply the physical reflection of his elitist ideological program.

David knew differently. He realized that holiness was meant as the heritage of the entire Jewish people. The Mikdash was not meant for the Kohanim, but the entire Jewish people. And while it was true that the Kohanim were the religious elite of the nation, their spiritual stature was not for their own aggrandizement, but was intended to flow outward, inspiring and uplifting the rest of the people. Thus, while only a portion of the nation can serve in the Mikdash as Kohanim, the entire nation is called upon to become a “kingdom of Kohanim and a holy nation” (Shemot 19:6).

[1] Doeg was a member of Shaul’s court and is mentioned in Shmuel Aleph (Perakim 21 and 22) where he is depicted as an antagonist of David who murdered many Kohanim. Chazal teach that he is one of the few people who forfeited their portion in Olam ha’Ba.

Food for Thought

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Commentary on the Siddur): The holy is set apart from the profane only to show that it is from the holy that the spirit of sanctity and sanctification should go out to permeate all the other phases of human life. That which is shut off from the light is so separated only that, under the cover of darkness, it may gather new strength in order then, suffused with light, to be awakened to new life and vigor. Yisrael, too, is set apart from the other nations only so that, through Yisrael, the rest of the nations may be won over to an ever-increasing extent to the truths it has revealed.

Rav Eliahu Dessler (Michtav M’Eliyahu Vol. 3, Pg. 356-357): [T]he Lithuanian yeshivos focused on a single goal – to create great Torah scholars who were also G-d fearing people. To accomplish this, they prohibited going to university. They realized that there was no other way to produce great Torah scholars except by concentrating all their students’ energies and desires exclusively to learning Torah. Don’t think that they didn’t realize from the beginning that this approach would ruin some who would not be able to deal with this extreme lifestyle and would consequently leave religious observance. But this is the price that they paid for the sake of producing in their schools great Torah scholars who were G‑d fearing… [T]hose who had a strong desire to learn a profession and surely those were interested in become academics were completely abandoned and not dealt with at all. This rejection was done so that the actions of these students wouldn’t harm others by giving them any legitimacy by trying to help them in any way. I heard that they found support for such an approach by the statement found in Vayikra Rabba (2:10) – “One thousand students enter to study Bible and only one comes out as a posek, and G-d says ‘That is the one I desire.’” They also mentioned the words of the Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim that “It is better that 1000 fools die in order to obtain one Torah scholar.”

Joshua Berman (Created Equal: How the Bible Broke with Ancient Political Thought, pg. 67-68): The election of the priests and Levites is nowhere given metaphysical basis. Plato justified the hierarchy of Greek societies on the grounds that the gods had differentiated the souls of different classes of persons. The Bible knows of no such discourse… their election is a reflection not of their innate status but of G-d’s. As a sovereign kind, He is worthy of an honor guard, of servants set aside as His attendants.

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Collected Writings, Vol. 2 Pg. 240): A minority should never tolerate that its cause should become its raison d’etre, become the spiritual monopoly of only a few initiates. By doing so, it would endanger its very survival. Once it inhibits the spiritual flow of research and knowledge within its ranks, it allows its members to drift into the majority that is always ready to receive them.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Yisro, 5774): Every nation had its priests. In the book of Genesis, we encounter Malkizedek, Abraham’s contemporary, described as “a priest of the most-high G-d” (Gen. 14: 18). The story of Joseph mentions the Egyptian priests, whose land was not nationalized. Yitro was a Midianite priest. In the ancient world there was nothing distinctive about priesthood. Every nation had its priests and holy men. What was distinctive about Israel was that it was to become a nation every one of whose members was to be a priest; each of whose citizens was called on to be holy.

I vividly recall standing with Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz in the General Assembly of the United Nations in August 2000 at a unique gathering of two thousand religious leaders representing all the major faiths in the world. I pointed out that even in that distinguished company we were different. We were almost the only religious leaders wearing suits. All the others wore robes of office. It is an almost universal phenomenon that priests and holy people wear distinctive garments to indicate that they are set apart (the core meaning of the word kadosh, “holy”). In post-biblical Judaism there were no robes of office because everyone was expected to be holy. (Theophrastus, a pupil of Aristotle, called Jews “a nation of philosophers,” reflecting the same idea.)

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Collected Writings Vol. 2, pg. 436): Look upon these men as they pass through the growing darkness of the ages, see what they meant to us and what they accomplished, and then try to find even one parallel to their character and to their achievements! Search the whole earth, if you will, for another nation to whom the elements of spirit, thought and knowledge were not merely reserved for individual thinkers but became the very soul of an entire nation! Look for another nation whose collective intellectual bent labored with unflagging zeal for one and a half millennia to develop one single area of knowledge, a nation within which knowledge was not merely the prerogative of a few ivory-tower thinkers, the kind comforter of philosophers behind prison bars, but the consolation, the wealth, the strength and the inspiration of an entire people.

Talmudology Blog: This passage is unequivocal in its meaning: Jerusalem – that is, the Temple Mount – is the highest place in Israel, and Israel itself is the highest place on earth. Now you don’t need me to tell you that this is not a true statement. But I will anyway. It’s not true. After a quick check in your reference book or internet search engine of choice you will see this is not correct. It’s not even close. (I’m talking to you, Denver). The Maharsha (1555-1631) in his commentary to Kiddushin 69a suggests that since the Earth is a sphere, Israel and Jerusalem can be seen as if they were its “center.” Perhaps the Maharsha means that the spherical earth spins on its axis and that is the highest point, just like you might see a model of the earth on a bookshelf that spins on an axis with the North Pole at the top. But that cannot be, because the axis of the rotation of the Earth does not pass through Israel. It passes through the North Pole.

The Maharal of Prague wrote that Jerusalem is, spiritually speaking, the highest point on Earth (באר הגולה, הבאר הששי). Elsewhere, the Maharal suggests that just as water flows from the peaks of mountains down into valleys, it is Torah teachings that flow down from the spiritual capital Jerusalem to water the rest of the world. Perhaps it is this that gives Israel and its capital a shot at the claim of being the most spiritually elevated. Perhaps. But it’s a claim that is contingent on the behavior of all those who live there.

Questions for Discussion

Could Rav Kook’s explanation for the Mikdash’s location provide an explanation for the chosenness of Israel?
Rav Hirsch, in “Food for Thought” above writes that in Judaism, knowledge is “not merely the prerogative of a few ivory-tower thinkers.” Can you think of some aspects of Jewish law or history that demonstrate this?
Are there advantages to the ‘elitist’ model that Rav Kook says was rejected by David? If so, what are they?
Why does Torah Judaism have Kohanim and rabbis, as opposed to a fully egalitarian model where everyone is their own religious authority?
Look up Devarim 14:23. Does it support Rav Kook’s theory? (See Tosafos in Bava Basra, 21a ד׳ה כי מציון.)
What does it mean to be a “kingdom of Kohanim and a holy nation”?

To See as He Sees – Parshat Re’eh

Printable PDF available here.

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.