A Continuous Flame – Parshat Tetzaveh

“And the work was sufficient for them for all the work, to do it and even to leave over.” (Shemot 36:7) That’s not from this week’s parshah, but it sums up my experience at work during the last several weeks. That explains why (i) I wasn’t able to post last week for Parshat Terumah and (ii) am not providing an original rendition of Rav Kook for this week’s parshah. In lieu, below is an excerpt from Rabbi Chanan Morrison’s Sapphire From the Land of Israel, an adaptation of Rav Kook’s teachings on the parsha. I hope to resume posting in earnest next week.

A printable PDF of the piece below is available here. Last year’s piece on Parshat Tetzaveh is available here, and is also in print in this week’s New Jersey Jewish Link.

Rav Kook (Ein Ayah, Gemara Shabbat, 20a):

And you shall command the children of Israel, and they shall take to you pure olive oil, crushed for lighting, to kindle the lamps continually. (Shemot 27:20)

Not just any oil was suitable for use in the Temple Menorah. The Torah stipulates that the oil be particularly refined, made from hand-crushed olives, so that it will “raise up a constant flame.” Why does the Torah use this unusual phrase, “to raise up the flame”? Why not say simply “to kindle the flame”?

In the gemara, our Sages explained this phrase to means that the lights of the Menorah must burn easily and naturally, necessitating that only the finest oil and wicks be used. The oil must be pure, produced from types of oil that are easily absorbed, and the wicks must be made from a material that burns smoothly. With such high quality oil and wicks, the flame will “raise itself up” and will not need to be fiddled with.

For Sabbath lights, the Sages similarly required that the oil come from a substance that is absorbed easily, and the wicks be made from a material that burns smoothly. ‘Those wicks and oils that the Sages disqualified from use on the Sabbath may also not be used in the Temple’ (Shabbat 21a).

As with all aspects of the halacha, there is a deeper significance to this rule. The goal of the Sabbath is to perfect the individual, and the requirement for easily lit wicks and oil contains an important lesson about the path to spiritual growth.

If the body is overwhelmingly drawn toward physical pleasures, the intellect will not succeed in guiding it. One may become skilled in some craft, or gain proficiency in certain areas of wisdom, but wisdom will not reside in the heart. The overriding attraction to material pursuits will interfere with the illumination of the intellect. Our body is like a wick. It must be refined so that it does not resist the light, but rather works together with the soul. Only then it will be illuminated easily and evenly. This is the essence of the Sabbath: a day set aside for harmonious living, so that we may naturally grow in holiness and true service of God.

The oil is a metaphor for the human intellect. The mind also needs guidance; not every intellectual pursuit leads to ethical and spiritual growth. Cases abound of brilliant individuals who led amoral, even corrupt lives. Just as the oil of the Menorah must be of a type that is readily absorbed by the wick, so too, we should immerse ourselves in a wisdom which provides practical guidance toward proper living. Such is the wisdom of Israel — the Torah.

Now, the Sabbath day promotes the spiritual growth of the individual. But what about the spiritual growth of the nation? What if the nation seeks to amass wealth and power, regardless of any injustices perpetrated along the way? Unfortunately, this is a common phenomenon: the individual aspires to justice and goodness, while his country ruthlessly pursues its objectives.

The heritage of the Jewish people, however, is different. Our national aspirations are at one with our individual aspirations. Both are rooted in God’s law from Sinai. Both the individual and the nation pursue the same goals of justice and kindness. This is the significance of the association made between the Sabbath lights and the Temple Menorah, connecting the aspirations of the individual and the nation. Both Sabbath and Temple lights require oil and wicks that burn smoothly and easily. The Torah of the nation, like that of the individual, must guide its actions effectively, and not be limited to abstract philosophical inquiry.

The Sages further explained that flame needs to be constant, a light that “raises itself up.” What does this mean? Our impetus for seeking justice and good should be based on intrinsic, natural motives. This is accomplished by purifying the body through the sanctity of practical mitzvot, and the mind through the light of Torah study. Then we do not require artificial assistance to avoid evil. Our enlightened conscience will naturally lead us to the proper path.

Food for Thought (from Chabad.com, based on the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe)

Few sights are as warming to the soul as the sight of a burning flame. Though a physical phenomenon, the flame — luminous, pure, ethereal — is everything the physical is not; hence its appeal to man, a spiritual being ensnared in a material world.

But the flame is more than a symbol of spirituality. The flame is our own mirror, in which are reflected the strivings of our deepest self. In the words of the author of Proverbs, “The soul of man is a lamp of G‑d.” The flame is our own mirror, in which are reflected the strivings of our deepest self.

The flame surges upwards, as if to tear free from the wick and lose itself in the great expanses of energy that gird the heavens. But even as it strains heavenward, the flame is already pulling back, tightening its grip on the wick and drinking thirstily of the oil in the lamp—oil that sustains its continued existence as an individual flame. And it is this tension of conflicting energies, this vacillation from being to dissolution and back again, that produces light.

We, too, yearn for transcendence, yearn to tear free of the entanglements of material life and achieve a self-nullifying reunion with our Creator and Source. At the same time, however, we are also driven by a will to be — a will to live a physical life and make our mark upon a physical world. In the lamp of G‑d that is man, these polar drives converge in a flame that illuminates its surroundings with a G‑dly light.

A lamp consists of oil, a wick, and a vessel containing them so that the oil is fed through the wick to a burning flame. Oil and wick are both combustible substances, but neither could produce light on its own with the efficiency and stability of the lamp. The wick, if ignited, would flare briefly and die, utterly consumed. As for the oil, one would find it extremely difficult to ignite at all. But when wick and oil are brought together in the lamp, they produce a controlled and steady light.

The soul of man is a lamp of G‑d whose purpose in life is to illuminate the world with divine light. G‑d provided us with the “fuel” that generates His light the Torah and its commandments (mitzvot), which embody His wisdom and will and convey His luminous truth.

The divine oil requires a “wick” to channel its substance and convert it into an illuminating flame. The Torah is the divine wisdom; but for divine wisdom to be manifest in our world, there must be physical minds that study it and comprehend it, physical mouths that debate it and teach it, and physical media that publish it and disseminate it. The mitzvot are the divine will; but for the divine will to be manifest in our world, there must be a physical body that actualizes it and physical materials (animal hide for tefillin, wool for tzitzit, money for charity) with which it is actualized.

And just as the divine oil cannot produce light without a material wick, neither can a wick without oil. A life without Torah and mitzvot, however aflame with the desire to come close to G‑d, is incapable of sustaining its flame. It might generate flashes of ecstatic spiritual experience, but lacking oil of genuine divine substance, these quickly die out and fail to introduce any enduring light into the world.

To realize its role as a “lamp of G‑d,” a human life must be a lamp that combines a physical existence (the “wick”) with the divine ideas and deeds of Torah (the “oil”). When the wick is saturated with oil and feeds its spiritual yearnings with a steady supply of the same, the resultant flame is both luminous and sustainable, preserving the existence and productivity of the wick and illuminating the corner of the world in which has been placed.

The flame itself is a multi-colored affair, alluding to the many levels on which man relates to the Creator through his observance of the mitzvot. Generally speaking, there is the lower and darker area of the flame which adjoins the wick, and its upper and brighter part.

The darker segment of the flame represents those aspects of a person’s service of G‑d which are colored by their association with the physicality of the “wick”–that is, mitzvot which are motivated by self-interest. The higher and purer part of the flame represents a person’s moments of self-transcendence, deeds which a person does—as Maimonides writes–“not for any reason in the world: not out of fear of evil or out of a desire to obtain the good; rather, he does the truth because it is true.”

Both these aspects of a person’s life are reflected in his relationship with G‑d. The mitzvot come not only to bind his altruistic “G‑dly soul” to the Almighty, but also to involve his ego-dominated “animal soul” in the fulfillment of the divine will. This is achieved when a person understands that he should “love the Lord your G‑d… for He is your life” (Devarim 30:20). By recognizing that G‑d is the source and sustainer of his very being, the very same ego which earlier craved the most material of pleasures is now drawn to attach itself to the Almighty, out of the realization that there is no greater fulfillment of self pos

The “wick” is both prison and liberator for the flame, both tether and lifeline. It holds the soul in its distinctiveness from the divine whole, in its apartness from its Creator. And yet, it is this distinctiveness and apartness, this incarnation in a physical life, which allows us to connect to G‑d in the deepest and most meaningful way—by fulfilling His will.

So when divine command, physical body and human life come together as oil, wick and lamp, the result is a flame: a relationship with G‑d that is characterized by two conflicting drives, by a yearning to come close coupled with a commitment to draw back. The materiality of life evokes in the soul a desire to tear free of it and fuse with the Divine. But the closer the soul is drawn to G‑d, all the more does it recognize that it can fulfill His will only as a distinct and physical being. So while the corporeality of the wick triggers the flames upward surge, the divine will implicit in the oil sustains its commitment to existence and life.

Law, Doubt, and the Dew of Light – Parshat Mishpatim

**Rav Kook (Orot haTeshuva, 13:5)**

(as translated in Song of Teshuva, Vol. 3)

Printable PDF available here.

The best and most authentic way of engaging in teshuvah, a way that flows from the light of Torah within the world, is to learn and review the monetary laws and all other laws regarding interpersonal interactions, as found in Choshen Mishpat. This study should be undertaken with clarity, breadth of knowledge, and profound and straight incisiveness.

This rectifies all of the obstacles of the heart that occur in a person’s life, establishes Divine justice upon its most stable basis, and removes the wound of doubt and confusion from a person’s soul. Its clear light illuminates one’s pathway in practical, day-to-day living.

However, a person must also develop his heart and mind by means of the other parts of Torah – in particular, by means of the moral and contemplative influence… found in the “dew of light.” He must train his inner thoughts in lofty, Divine modes of comprehension. As a result, his soul will be capable of clinging tightly to the Divine justice within the legal portion of the “Torah of life” (lit. תורת חיים). Then this field of technical, legal study of Choshen Mishpat will uplift and elevate him.

**Commentary (R. Moshe Weinberger, Song of Teshuva)**

There are two ways in which people may be persuaded to adhere to a code of moral conduct. The first is through a society’s use of governmental authority to enforce a body of law. Every civilized society creates thousands of laws whose purpose is to inculcate in its citizens a respect for other people and their property. A person who does not abide by these regulations is subject to punishment. In this approach, human beings are seen as wild animals, which the government must prevent from destroying each other. This perspective is alluded to in our Sages’ statement, “If not for fear of the government, one person would swallow up another alive” (Pirkei Avos3:2).

A person who is motivated by such laws alone does not improve internally. He refrains from misbehaving only if he believes that he might otherwise get in trouble, and he may seek out ways in which he can get away with doing wrong. Government does not attempt to transform a person so that he will be in touch with and express the essence of who he is. It does not address his inner core. Rather, it imposes an external framework that determines proper behavior. Although governmental laws and regulations can prevent a person from taking somebody else’s possessions, they cannot force him to become holy and truly upright. They cannot even keep him from engaging in all kinds of behavior – subtle or not so subtle – that hurts others. Such an imposition of laws has brought about tremendous improvement in civilization – particularly in the drive to create more just and equal societies. But this is an artificial effort that cannot bring about a fundamental inner transformation. The second way in which a person comes to adhere to a code of moral conduct, is by carefully and thoroughly learning Choshen Mishpat, which provides Hashem’s guidelines for proper conduct between Jews.

Practically speaking, not everybody can learn Choshen Mishpat in the original. There are various alternative ways to learn these laws: simpler renditions, abridgments, and presentations in English. A person must learn to the best of his ability how Hashem’s Torah guides us in our relationships with each other. Only Torah can change a person’s will and transform his desires until he reaches a point where “the property of your fellow should be as dear to you as your own” (Pirkei Avos2:17).

For instance, in order to overcome his feelings of jealousy, a person must learn that wealth consists of the ability to rejoice with whatever Hashem has given him (Pirkei Avos4:1). The Torah is not just concerned with the effect of a person’s actions on others. Rather, it is concerned with his underlying inner being. This is reflected in the fact that the rabbinic compendium on moral behavior, which deals primarily with how people treat each other, is not called Chapters of the Sages but Chapters of the Fathers (Pirkei Avos). It presents the sort of wisdom that comes from a parent. A parent is not only concerned that his children should refrain from hurting other children, that they should not grow up to be thieves or liars. Rather, a parent’s deepest wish and dream is that his children should be great people.

Only Hashem’s Torah, which offers instruction on how to love and respect other Jews, can elevate a person from his naturally selfish state. In particular, Choshen Mishpat reveals G-d’s righteousness and truth through its body of law, which reflects an absolute truth that is not subject to Supreme Court decisions or votes by self-interested politicians…

The verse states that “the inclination of a person’s heart is evil from his youth” (Bereishis 8:21). From an early age, human beings get so caught up in this world that they lack a higher perspective. As a result, they are inclined to be dishonest. The Torah is a Jew’s only source of moral clarity, which can raise him up. As he learns G-d’s laws, he gains access to absolute truth, which removes the confusion and uncertainties in his soul regarding what is good. And that makes it possible for him to influence others as well – in particular, the next generation. Children learn to be upright when they see adults acting with integrity – when, for instance, they see their parents talk to each other in a sweet and respectful way. Traditionally, when boys begin to study Talmud, they learn Nezikin – the tractates of Gemara dealing with the laws that are codified in Choshen Mishpat. These tractates teach a person how to be righteous. He comes to appreciate that something that belongs to one person may not be taken by someone else. As he continues to learn Nezikin and Choshen Mishpat throughout his life, his mind becomes attuned to the mind of G-d. The halachos that guide our treatment of others do not leave the determination of right and wrong to our imagination. They direct us on a path that forces us away from our preoccupation with our ego, with what is good for us, and lead us to focus on those around us. They direct our attention to issues such as how loud we may play music at night and whether an extension that we want to build onto our house will bother the neighbors. These halachos, which come from “a faithful G-d without iniquity, Who is just and straight” (Devarim 32:4), straighten out all that is crooked within us, and remove our inclination for falsehood.

They provide us with a perspective that is without haziness and doubt. Although they seem dry, they are filled with G-dly life and vibrancy. A person’s doubt and bewilderment, which stem from his confused ideas of right and wrong, separate him from G-d. When he studies Choshen Mishpat, his mind is illuminated by G-d’s absolute definitions, and so his doubts dissipate.

For some people, Choshen Mishpat is intellectually exciting. They may formulate beautiful structures of halachic thought and be scrupulous in their observance of halachos. Yet, at the same time, their hearts might be empty and their learning sterile. [However] G-d’s presence suffuses every halachah, which expresses His absolute truth and righteousness. But since halachah does not openly express G-dliness, the soul of a person who learns little else is not prepared to be spiritually uplifted. And then halacha seems to be no more than a complicated and at times overwhelming legal system.

Therefore, a person who wishes to mind to spirituality must sensitize his heart and learn the “dew of light” – the parts of Torah that contain aggados, midrashim, and deeper explanations of our Sages teachings…. Then he sees that all parts of Torah – even the most technical teachings of halacha and Gemara – are beautiful and alive.

Unfortunately, there are many Jews who, although they learned for years in yeshiva and kollel, can barely force themselves to attend a Daf Yomi shiur. When a person is young, the competitive aspect and intellectual enjoyment of learning Torah can keep him in the beis medrash for fifteen hours a day. He is inspired by talks about the dedication of [great gedolim]…. He spends as many years in yeshiva and kollel as he can, until the necessities of life catch up with him and force him to go to work. Twenty years pass and he is now a middle-aged… man caught up in the need to earn a living, to devote his mind to outsmarting his competition and winning new customers. He is weary, bitter, and disappointed. At home, his children are not the children that he wanted, and his wife is not the wife that he expected.

After the day’s work and complications of family life, he is too tired to learn halachah or Gemara with the strength and excitement that he had possessed at the age of seventeen. And so he learns for perhaps an hour, and on his days off he barely manages to learn more. He is disgusted with himself. Now stories about how R. Isser Zalman learned until his last breath only serve to remind him of how worthless he is. He is battered and beaten by the world, no longer spiritually alive. He no longer has a passion for learning. The fire is no longer burning.

But he can revive himself with the inner aspect of Torah, which is the dew of life. Then he can reclaim the youthful excitement that he had once possessed when he had learned Shulchan Aruch and Gemara. When a person constantly learns the inner teachings of Torah, then the dry, legal areas of Torah moisten, lift up, and strengthen the essence of his soul.

Questions for Discussion

Rav Kook describes the study of monetary and interpersonal halacha as “the best and most authentic way of engaging in teshuvah.” But we don’t typically associate Choshen Mishpat with teshuva. Why is that? And how is Rav Kook approaching the concept of teshuva differently than we usually think of it?
Look through Parshat Mishpatim – can you identify some areas of bein adam l’chaveiro where the Torah’s ethical demands are higher than those of the society we live in?
What part of the Torah’s “dew of light” inspires you and makes you excited about Torah Judaism?
How do we teach Torah in a way that makes even the most technical and legal aspects seem beautiful and alive?
Every civilized society has laws to govern interpersonal relationships and ensure a semblance of order. What makes the Torah’s laws unique?
What is an area of monetary or interpersonal halacha that you are interested in learning more about, or can be more careful about observing?
Below is a comment from Rashi on the first pasuk of Mishpatim. How does it support Rav Kook’s insights above?

* And these are the ordinances… “And these” means this is adding to what has been previously stated. Just as what has been previously stated [i.e., the Ten Commandments] were from Sinai, these too were from Sinai. Now why was the section dealing with laws juxtaposed to the section dealing with the altar? To tell you that you shall place the Sanhedrin adjacent to the beit hamikdash.

* That you shall set before them… G-d said to Moses: Do not think of saying, “I will teach them the chapter or the law two or three times until they know it well, as it was taught, but I will not trouble myself to enable them to understand the reasons for the matter and its explanation.” Therefore, it is said: “you shall set before them,” like a table set [with food] and prepared to eat from, placed before someone.

Seeking G-d, Seeking Justice – Parshat Mishpatim

Printable PDF available here.

**Rav Kook (Orot, ישראל ותחייתו ג)**

Excerpted from Bezalel Naor’s excellent English translation of Orot, published by Maggid.

The center of life of the soul of Israel is in the source of holiness. Through truth and faith we were born and thereby we grow. We do not have disparate values; unity rests in us and the light of the One Lord lives within us. The laws, laws of the Living G-d’s Torah, distinguish us from every other nation. Holiness is at work on us internally, the great aspirations of our life are directed to it. There are inklings of holiness in every nation, but not all of their life values stem therefrom. This is not so in Israel. “In all of your ways know Him” (בכל דרכיך דעהו), that small passage that encompasses the entire corpus of Torah, which is actualized by rare individuals, is actually the inheritance of all Israel. In Israel, every life’s aspiration and life’s desire – acquisition, wealth, honor, dominion, expansion – flowfrom the source of holiness. Therefore, the laws are holy-of-holies in Israel, and therefore the semikhah (institution of rabbinic ordination) that bears the name of G-d is so vital to us and essential to our national character. The evil Syrian-Greeks intuited the value of this great treasure and forbid the semikhah, on pain of death. One of our Sages (Rabbi Judah ben Bava) even gave his life to preserve it, and the effect of that martyrdom redounds, for it deepened the special character of Israel, holy to the Lord.

Moses our Teacher grasped the power of the law when it was first instituted in the nation, and uplifted all the values of law until the end of generations, to the divine content to which the laws of Israel reach, and the search for G-d became inseparable from Israelite jurisprudence. [As we read in Parshat Yitro, when Moshe explains to his father in law,] “When the people will come to me to seek G-d, when they will have a matter come to me, I shall judge between a man and his neighbor. And I shall make known the laws of G-d and His precepts.” (Shemot 18:15-16) The G-d-quest of Law has remained an Israelite treasure…

However, Christianity abandoned law, rooted herself in apparent mercy and love that undermines the world and destroys it. By emptying law of its divine content, the law becomes seized by the grossest wickedness. The poison invades the private law of the individual and spreads through the souls of nations, becoming the foundation of national hatred and the depth of evil of bloodshed, without removing the yoke from man’s neck. The eyes of all must be lifted to the light of the world, the light of the Lord, which will be revealed through the Messiah of the G-d of Jacob. “And He shall judge earth righteously, nations justly.” (Tehillim 9:9)

Food for Thought

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Covenant and Conversation, 5767): just as the general principles of Judaism… are Divine, so are the details. In the 1960s the Danish architect Arne Jacobson designed a new college campus in Oxford. Not content with designing the building, he went on to design the cutlery and crockery to be used in the dining hall, and supervised the planting of every shrub in the college garden. When asked why, he replied in the words of another architect, Mies van der Rohe: “G-d is in the details.”

That is a Jewish sentiment. There are those who believe that what is holy in Judaism is its broad vision, never so compellingly expressed as in the Decalogue at Sinai. The truth however is that G-d is in the details: “Just as the former were given at Sinai, so these [the civil laws] were given at Sinai.” The greatness of Judaism is not simply in its noble vision of a free, just and compassionate society, but in the way it brings this vision down to earth in detailed legislation. Freedom is more than an abstract idea…

The second principle, no less fundamental, is that civil law is not secular law. We do not believe in the idea “render to Caesar what is Caeser’s and to G-d what belongs to G-d”. We believe in the separation of powers but not in the secularisation of law or the spiritualisation of faith. The Sanhedrin or Supreme Court must be placed near the Temple to teach that law itself must be driven by a religious vision….

The Jewish vision of justice, given its detailed articulation here for the first time, is based not on expediency or pragmatism, nor even on abstract philosophical principles, but on the concrete historical memories of the Jewish people as “one nation under G-d.” Centuries earlier, G-d has chosen Abraham so that he would “teach his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord, by doing what is right and just.” (Bereishit 18:19) Justice in Judaism flows from the experience of injustice at the hands of the Egyptians, and the G-d-given challenge to create a radically different form of society in Israel…

From earliest times, Judaism expected everyone to know and understand the law. Legal knowledge is not the closely guarded property of an elite. It is – in the famous phrase – “the heritage of the congregation of Jacob.” (Devarim 33:4) Already in the first century CE Josephus could write that “should any one of our nation be asked about our laws, he will repeat them as readily as his own name. The result of our thorough education in our laws from the very dawn of intelligence is that they are, as it were, engraved on our souls. Hence to break them is rare, and no one can evade punishment by the excuse of ignorance.” That is why there are so many Jewish lawyers. Judaism is a religion of law – not because it does not believe in love (“You shall love the Lord your G-d”, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”) but because, without justice, neither love nor liberty nor human life itself can flourish. Love alone does not free a slave from his or her chains.

Tehillim (147:20): He tells His words to Ya’akov, His statutes and His judgments to Israel. He did not do so for any nation, and they do not know the law (lit. mishpatim).

Rabbi Shlomo Zuckier (What Is Jewish Law?): Throughout human history, the realm of law has been given multiple purposes. In some societies, the law is a statement of a society’s values, how one ought to live; among this set of ideals is an account of how society deals with those who violate the law, and the creation of an administrative or executive system. In other societies, there is less of an idealistic view of the law, and law’s function is simply to create order. The goal of law is not to educate but simply to discipline, to put into line those who diverge from its norms, with the goal of creating a safe, organized society. What is the perspective of Jewish law on this issue?

The account of law provided by the Tur (Spain, 1300s) strikes a highly universalist note. For example, the Mishnah from Avot that he explicates establishes that justice is a pillar upon which the entire world stands. He offers a historical trajectory of law that begins with the creation of the world and explains, among other things, why the (pre-Jewish) generation of the deluge failed to properly dispense justice and caused the world to be destroyed. The judge is lauded for his efforts “to break the outstretched arms of evil doers, taking from them their spoils and returning it to its owns,” which “upholds the world.” There is nothing specifically Jewish about this account of the value of law and the judge, although of course Halakhah charges Jewish society to ensure the rule of law. This, of course, is consistent with his position that the goal of Jewish law courts, just like any law court, is to ensure law and order. This is a challenge to society for all times, for all peoples, and Jews participate in it like any other nation.

On the other hand, the Ran (Spain, 1400s) goes out of his way to mention that the court’s role is a special one, unique to the Jewish people and Jewish law. He acknowledges that “the human species” and “every nation” has a need for some form of governance, so as to avoid anarchy and destruction. However, this aspect of governance is not the goal of mishpat, or Jewish law in its classical sense. The Ran is careful to attribute such a role to the king, who does whatever is necessary to create order, regardless of its coherence with Torah, rather than to the Jewish courts, which rule on the basis of Halakhah. While the king is recruited to fill a role “like all the other nations around” Israel (Deuteronomy 17:14, I Samuel 8:5), Jewish law is particularly Jewish, its basis in the Torah, which “is unique among all the laws of the nations of the world as to its laws and commandments.”

For the Ran the goal of applying Jewish law is bringing G-d into the world through implementing G-d’s law. This not only is important in itself, but also because it causes G-d’s will to be manifest in the world. The judge, then, is partner to G-d in the sense that he serves as a conduit bringing G-d’s law from the theoretical realm into the practical, day-to-day world.

Shulchan Aruch (Choshen Mishpat 26:1): It is forbidden to appear for trial before non-Jewish Judges and in their courts, even regarding a matter that they adjudicate the same as the halacha… And whoever does so is considered a wicked person and is as though he blasphemed, reproached and rebelled against the Law of Moshe.

Questions for Discussion

Can you think of any instances in Jewish life where love and justice clash? How does the Torah reconcile those competing demands?
How do the parshiot that come after the narrative of matan Torah emphasize the centrality of law in Judaism?
Rav Kook argues that Christianity embodies the danger of love untethered from any notion of law. Where do you think he is coming from?
People often talk about the ‘spirit of the law.’ What does this mean? And how do we determine what it is?
See the excerpt from Rabbi Shlomo Zuckier above in “Food for Thought.” Which position do you think is more correct?
What can you do to cultivate a greater appreciation of and understanding for the laws of the Torah?

Sabbath and Sweetening the Waters – Parshat Beshalach

Printable PDF available here. Please print and share with friends!

Last year’s post on Parshat Beshalach is available here.

**Rav Kook (Otzrot haRe’iah, Vol. 2, pg. 172-173)**

Based on the Translation of Rabbi Chanan Morrison (RavKookTorah.org)

They came to Marah, but they could not drink the waters because they were bitter… So he [Moshe] cried out to G-d, and G-d instructed him concerning a piece of wood, which Moshe cast into the water, and the water became sweet. There He gave them a statute and an ordinance, and there He tested them. (Shemot 15:23-25)

Our Sages teach that Israel received several mitzvot at Marah – honoring one’s parents, certain aspects of the judicial system, and keeping Shabbat.[1]It sounds like these commandments were not actually binding, but a kind of practice or preparation for receiving the Torah at Har Sinai. The Torah describes it as a “test.”[2]But what kind of test was this, and how did it prepare the people for the Torah? To unravel this puzzle, let us focus specifically on the command of Shabbat.

The Torah tells us that before Shabbat was given at Marah, it was a place of bitter waters. G-d then showed Moshe a certain “tree,” whose wood sweetened the water. Our Sages teach that on a deeper level, this was all a metaphor for Torah. The laws of the Torah are truly sweet, but to perceive that sweetness, one needs a pure soul and a refined character. Someone afflicted with negative middot and a coarse personality will not experience the goodness of Torah life. He will relate to mitzvot not as an opportunity, but a source of repression that stifles his enjoyment of a ‘good’ life. Similarly, the waters of Marah were sweet all along. Israel just had to take the appropriate steps to bring out that sweetness.

In particular, Marah laid the groundwork for Sinai by reinforcing the positive traits of kindness and compassion that are innate to Israel.[3]The people would then be ready to receive the Torah, now that their moral development allowed them to appreciate the sweetness of the Torah’s laws. But what does this have to do with Shabbat?

The answer is as follows. For the sake of social order and harmony, people need to be occupied with labor. Work relationships and business dealings motivate people to be polite and pleasant to one another. Even if they do not like one another, it is in their self-interest to be friendly and helpful. If they are not working, however, this motive no longer exists. Human nature instinctively looks out for self-protection and survival; without an incentive to gain the good will of others, people are inclined to revert back to their natural, self-centered tendencies. This was the test of Marah and the day of Sabbath rest. Would Israel discover within itself an innate quality of compassion? Would they remain considerate and accommodating, without any personal profit to be gained from kindness on the day of rest?

This also the purpose of providing the manna, another pre-Sinai phenomenon that begins in Parshat Beshalach. The Torah tells us that G-d gave us manna in order to “test whether or not we would keep His law” (Shemot 16:4). With their food provided for them, the Israelites had no need to earn a living. Would they remain considerate to their neighbors without the incentive of personal gain? If they did so, that would demonstrate that their kindness was not out of self-interest, but an expression of an inner compassion and generosity. The Jewish people could not accept the Torah without inculcating these traits.

Incidentally, we can now explain why Shabbat is a special gift for the Jewish people, and is forbidden to Noachides (see Gemara Sanhedrin 58b). This is surprising – given that Shabbat commemorates the creation of the universe, we would expect it to be accessible to all of humanity. However, the seven Noahide laws do not demand the refinement of human nature, but merely the avoidance of evil. The Torah, on the other hand, was revealed in order to elevate the Jewish people to holiness and closeness to the Divine. The non-Jewish world is free to build a society upon expediency and personal gain, but Israel’s ethical ideals must be based upon a love of “that which is good and proper in the eyes of G-d” (Devarim 12:28).

For this reason, the Torah could not be given until Israel’s innate goodness was fortified through the mitzvot of Marah.

[1]Rashi cites a slightly different tradition that has parah adumah instead of honoring one’s parents.

[2]See also Rashi – “In Marah, He gave them some sections of the Torah to occupy themselves with…”

[3]“There are three distinguishing marks of this nation. They are merciful, they have a sense of shame, and they perform acts of kindness.” Gemara Yevamot, 79a.

Food for Thought

Rambam (Hilchot De’ot 2:1): To those who are physically sick, the bitter tastes sweet and the sweet bitter. Some of the sick even desire and crave that which is not fit to eat, such as earth and charcoal, and hate healthful foods, such as bread and meat – all depending on how serious the sickness is. Similarly, those who are morally ill desire and love bad traits, hate the good path, and are lazy to follow it. Depending on how sick they are, they find it exceedingly burdensome. Isaiah (5:20) speaks of such people in a like manner: “Woe to those who call the bad good, and the good bad, who take darkness to be light and light to be darkness, who take bitter to be sweet and sweet to be bitter.” Concerning them, Mishlei (2:13) states: “Those who leave the upright paths to walk in the ways of darkness.” What is the remedy for the morally ill? They should go to the wise, for they are the healers of souls. They will heal them by teaching them how to acquire proper traits, until they return them to the good path.

Ramban (Shemot 15:25): In line with the plain meaning of Scripture, when the Israelites began coming into the great and dreadful wilderness… Moshe established customs for them concerning how to regulate their lives and affairs until they come to an inhabited land. A custom is called a chok and also mishpat…It may mean that Moshe instructed them in the ways of the wilderness, namely, to be ready to suffer hunger and thirst and to pray to G-d, and not to murmur. He taught them ordinances whereby they should live, to love one another, to follow the counsel of the elders, to be discreet in their tents with regards to women and children, to deal in a peaceful manner with the strangers that come into the camp to sell them various objects. He also imparted moral instructions.

Gemara Bava Kamma (82a): “And they went three days in the wilderness, and found no water.” (Shemot 15:22) Metaphorically, water here refers to Torah…The verse means that since the Jews traveled for three days without hearing any Torah they became weary, and therefore the prophets among them arose and instituted for them that they should read from the Torah each Shabbat, Monday, and Thursday, so they would not go three days without hearing the Torah.

Rashi (Shemot 16:4): “So that I can test them, whether…they will follow My teaching”: [This means that through giving the manna, I will test] whether they will keep the commandments contingent upon it, [i.e.,] that they will not leave any of it over, and that they will not go out on the Sabbath to gather [the manna].

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks: [Sabbath]it creates for one day a week a world in which values are not determined by money or its equivalent… You can’t buy or sell or pay for someone’s services. It is the most tangible expression of the moral limits of markets. Whether in the synagogue or home, relationships are determined by other things altogether, by a sense of kinship, belonging and mutual responsibility. [Sabbath also] renews social capital. It bonds people into communities in ways not structured by transactions of wealth or power. It is to time what parks are to space: something precious that we share on equal terms and that none of us could create or possess on our own.

Questions for Discussion

Why did the Jews have to fortify their compassion and generosity before they could receive the Torah?
See Ramban’s explanation above in “Food for Thought.” How is it different than Rav Kook? How is it similar?
Rav Kook says that someone with a coarse personality cannot appreciate the Torah’s sweetness. Why is this? And how does refining one’s personality change that?
See Rabbi Jonathan Sacks above in “Food for Thought.” How is his understanding of Shabbat a polar contrast to Rav Kook? Who do you think is correct, and why?
Rav Kook writes that “The seven Noahide laws do not demand the refinement of human nature, but merely the avoidance of evil.” What evidence might support Rav Kook’s position? Do you think he is correct?
Can you think of a time when you experienced the sweetness of Torah life?
According to the gemara, judicial laws and kibud av v’em were also given at Marah. Based on the excerpt above, how do you think Rav Kook would explain those?
What are appropriate ways to spend time on Shabbat? What are inappropriate ways?

Know Your Place – and Rise Above It – Parshat Bo

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Printable PDF available here.

Last year’s post on Parshat Bo can be found here. It deals with many of the same themes, and is an interesting contrast/companion to the piece below.

Rav Kook (Ein Ayah, Gemara Shabbat)

When lofty spiritual illuminations are revealed to those who are unsuitable, they are lowered and debased. The transcendent light of G-dliness becomes distorted, in accordance with the shallow and corrupt character of its recipient, much like water takes the shape of its container. The G-dly light loses its supernal splendor.

However, there are exceptional cases, when the spiritual/moral level of the recipient can be disregarded. In these instances, G-d suspends the normal spiritual order and allows for a spiritual “leap.” G-d’s revelation to our forefathers in Egypt,[1]on the night of the first Pesach, is the paradigm for such a miraculous “leap.” Israel was mired in the impurity of Egypt and Egyptian paganism. Our Sages teach that spiritually, we seemed indistinguishable from our idolatrous masters. According to the Zohar, we were on the “forty-ninth level of impurity” and would have become spiritually destroyed had the Exodus been delayed by even a single moment.

For G-d to reveal Himself at this junction required a spiritual jump of historic dimensions. Indeed, the name “Pesach” connotes leaping or skipping, not only because G-d “skipped” over Jewish homes when striking the Egyptian firstborn, but also because He “leaped” over the natural, incremental spiritual order. On that night, every Jew in Egypt merited a revelation of the Shechinah, despite being sunken in the lowest levels of degradation and spiritual defilement. And this was not a one-off occurrence. It established a paradigm for the future, for future generations of Jews to be able to overstep the constraints of their failures and imperfections, to leap upward toward G-dliness without limits or hesitation.

Of course, this is not the normal, and most times, one must absolutely proceed step-by-step. There are many different levels on the ladder between heaven and earth, and while we all strive to rise upward, each person must be conscious of where he stands at any point in time. It is presumptuous and unsustainable for an ordinary person to try and become a tzadik overnight, and the attempt will only distort the tzaddik’s path. But even so, the “leap” of Pesach night sweetens the spiritual journey for future generations, for every Jew to make an occasional and intermittent “leap” towards G-d.

But even here, there are limitations. The Torah tells us (Shemot 12:43) that “This is the law of the Passover offering: no foreigner may eat of it,” and our Sages (Gemara Zevachim 22b) teach us that this encompasses Jewish apostates who have abandoned G-d. Jews who have forsaken the ideals of the Torah to such an extent fall under the category of “foreigners.” We see that even the spiritual leap of the Passover redemption was not boundless in its scope. It could not encompass Jews who had become so assimilated into the idolatrous culture of Egypt that they lacked even an elementary faith in G-d.

Food for Thought

Rav Tzadok haKohen (Tzidkat haTzadik 1): A person’s entry into the service of G-d must be with haste, as we find that the Pesach offering brought in Egypt was eaten in haste, which was not the case with the Pesach offering brought in later generations. Because when a person begins to sever himself from all the physical desires of this world to which he is attached, he must guard the moment in which the will of G-d stirs up within him, and make haste in that moment to leave his desires, perhaps he will succeed. Afterwards, he can once again proceed with moderation and slowness as is the law regarding the Pesach offering brought in later generations.

Maimonides (Guide for the Perplexed, III:32): It is… impossible to go suddenly from one extreme to the other: it is therefore according to the nature of man impossible for him suddenly to discontinue everything to which he has been accustomed. The Torah expresses this idea when it says (Shemot 13:17) “It came to pass when Pharaoh let the people go, that G-d did not lead them [by] way of the land of the Philistines for it was near, because G-d said, Lest the people reconsider when they see war and return to Egypt.” It is contrary to human nature to suddenly abandon all the different kinds of Divine service and the different customs in which he has been brought up and become habituated. It would be just as if a person trained to work as a slave with mortar and bricks, or similar things, should interrupt his work, clean his hands, and at once fight with real giants. It was the result of G-d’s wisdom that the Israelites were led about in the wilderness till they acquired courage. For it is a well-known fact that travelling in the wilderness, and the attendant deprivation of physical pleasures… produces courage, while the reverse is the source of faint-heartedness. And so another generation rose during Israel’s wandering in the desert that had not been accustomed to degradation and slavery.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Covenant and Conversation, Shelach5777): It takes more than a few days or weeks to turn a population of slaves into a nation capable of handling the responsibilities of freedom. In the case of the Israelites it needed a generation born in liberty, hardened by the experience of the desert, untrammeled by habits of servitude. Freedom takes time, and there are no shortcuts. Often it takes a very long time indeed. That dimension of time is fundamental to the Jewish view of politics and human progress. That is why, in the Torah, Moses repeatedly tells the adults to educate their children, to tell them the story of the past, to “remember”. It is why the covenant itself is extended through time – handed on from one generation to the next. It is why the story of the Israelites is told at such length in Tanakh: the time-span covered by the Hebrew Bible is a thousand years from… Moses to the last of the prophets. It is why G-d acts in and through history.

Unlike Christianity or Islam there is, in Judaism, no sudden transformation of the human condition, no one moment or single generation in which everything significant is fully disclosed. Why, asks Maimonides (Guide, III:32), did G-d not simply give the Israelites in the desert the strength or self-confidence they needed to cross the Jordan and enter the land? His answer: because it would have meant saying goodbye to human freedom, choice and responsibility. Even G-d Himself, implies Maimonides, has to work with the grain of human nature and its all-too-slow pace of change. Not because G-d cannot change people: of course He can. He created them; He could re-create them. The reason is that G-d chooses not to…He wants human beings to construct a society of freedom – and how could He do that if, in order to bring it about, He had to deprive them of the very freedom He wanted them to create.

There are some things a parent may not do for a child if he or she wants the child to become an adult. There are some things even G-d must choose not to do for His people if He wants them to grow to moral and political maturity. In one of my books I called this the chronological imagination, as opposed to the Greek logical imagination. Logic lacks the dimension of time. That is why philosophers tend to be either rigidly conservative (Plato did not want poets in his Republic; they threatened to disturb the social order) or profoundly revolutionary (Rousseau, Marx). The current social order is either right or wrong. If it is right, we should not change it. If it is wrong, we should overthrow it. The fact that change takes time, even many generations, is not an idea easy to square with philosophy (even those philosophers, like Hegel and Marx, who factored in time, did so mechanically, speaking about “historical inevitability” rather than the unpredictable exercise of freedom).

Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch (Commentary on the Torah, Shemot 6:14):[The non-Jewish world erroneously believes that] a man could be known as a complete idiot today, and tomorrow proclaim the word of G-d. The spirit of G-d could suddenly descend on an ignorant and uneducated person and lo! he can speak in seventy languages… and then, the more ignorant, the more uneducated the prophet of today was yesterday, the greater the proof of the divinity of the Call that worked this change. Our [genealogical] register here [of Moses and Aaron in Parshat Va’era] counters this dangerous error…Moses and Aaron were… picked, chosen men. Had G-d wished simply to pick the first comer, other tribes than Levi stood at His disposal, and in Levi other branches than Kehat, and amongst the families of Kehat, other households than Amram, and among Amram’s children there was the older Aaron. But G-d chooses the noblest and most suitable to be His tools and messengers. Before he receives his call, the human being must develop and mature his human qualities. It was not Abraham nor Isaac but Jacob who became the real founder of the House of Israel. Not Reuben or Simeon but Levi is to be the chosen tribe. Not Aaron nor Miriam, but Moses became the “Messenger of G-d”. Everything has to ripen up to the degree of fitness which qualifies it for selection.

Rav Kook (Orot haTeshuva 14:18): Within every stage that a person may be on and within his every apprehension of the world, there is a treasury of holiness. When a person skips and soars with great rapidity beyond his level, he is deprived of the holy content of the lower stages that are appropriate for him. And he cannot cling to the upper because they are too spiritual for him. Therefore, he must return with a broken heart and with joy to the levels that he had left behind. Nevertheless, he should not forget the impression of the supernal levels – for once he has risen, he will not descend. And then everything will be transformed into good.

Rav Moshe Weinberger (Song of Teshuva, Vol. 4 Pg. 188): As a person moves toward his goal, there is a treasury of holiness at every step along the way. That is why, when G-d took the Jews out of Egypt, He did not bring them to Har Sinai in a single second and then to the Land of Israel a second later. Instead, He led them on a 49 day trek to Har Sinai and then led them in the desert for 40 years until they reached Eretz Yisrael. This is because there was a treasury of holiness in each of the encampments along the way.

Questions for Discussion

When does a person need to make a ‘leap’ in his or spiritual development?
What are some of the dangers of spiritual growth that doesn’t happen incrementally? Is there any evidence from later episodes in the book of Shemot?
See Rav Tzadok haKohen’s observations above in “Food for Thought.” How is his position different from Rav Kook’s? How is it the same?
Can you remember a time that you “leaped” to a spiritual level that had previously seemed beyond you? How did it go?
Is there a point beyond which a person can no longer return and do teshuva? Why or why not?
Other than the Exodus, where else in Jewish history (ancient or modern) are there instances of Israel ‘leaping up’ to higher spiritual levels?
Which religion do you think Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch is criticizing in “Food For Thought”?

[1] As described in the Haggadah –עַל שׁוּם שֶׁלֹא הִסְפִּיק בְּצֵקָם שֶׁל אֲבוֹתֵינוּ לְהַחֲמִיץ, עַד שֶׁנִּגְלָה עֲלֵיהֶם מֶלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא וּגְאָלָם.

Building and Destroying Character – Parshat Va’eira

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Printable PDF available here. Please print and share with friends!

Last year’s post on Parshat Va’eira is available here.

Rav Kook (Orot haTeshuva, 14:25)

And Pharaoh saw that the rain, the hail, and the thunder had ceased; so he continued to sin, and he strengthened his heart, he and his servants. And Pharaoh’s heart was hardened, and he did not let the children of Israel go out, as the Lord had spoken through the hand of Moses. (Shemot 9:34-35)

Sometimes bad traits come as punishment for a person’s previous sins. Then it does not suffice for a person to try and purify his bad traits in and of themselves. Rather, he will be able to return to his state of purity only when he examines his deeds and does teshuvah for his sins that caused him to be punished with the debasement of his traits.

Commentary (Rav Moshe Weinberger, Song of Teshuva Vol. 4)

Great rabbis such as the Ari and R. Chaim Vital teach that the essence of a Jew is holy and pure. Where then do a Jew’s bad traits come from? The Mussar literature answers that these traits come not from his essence but from his nefesh, his animal soul, and are superimposed upon his intrinsic goodness. Typically, a person’s bad traits are congenitally or environmentally shaped. But sometimes, Rav Kook states — in line with teachings of the Zohar and the Ari — G-d punishes a person for his sins by afflicting him with bad traits, in particular with a stubbornness of heart, as was the case with Pharaoh (Shemos 7:3). That is the worst punishment of all.

Thus, there are some people who stubbornly refuse to follow a halachah found in the Shulchan Aruch. Someone could speak to them day and night but they will not accept it. They will not listen to criticism, or agree to bind themselves to the most straightforward of Torah laws. This has nothing to do with intellectual differences or with an inability to subject themselves to the discipline that would be involved. It is due only to their having a hardened, stubborn heart. Even if someone demonstrates to them that their stubbornness is destroying their lives, they do not hear. They prefer to watch their entire kingdom, everything they have lived for, crumble before their eyes rather than comply.

Such people’s hardness of heart expresses itself in their indulgence in the trait of mockery. They make fun of Jews who keep Torah and mitzvos, of different types of Yiddishkeit, of serving Hashem. Such people should rather cry out to Hashem, “I know that this is a punishment for all of my sins. I have a sealed heart and I cannot see the truth.”

In the yearly cycle of the Torah reading, every time we come to the Parshiyos that tell about the Exodus, we think that Pharaoh was a fool for having contested G-d. But if Pharaoh could look at us, he would say, “What makes you any smarter? Aren’t you ruining your children and yourself with gossip, slander, looking at immodest sights and all kinds of filth? Isn’t your own life crumbling before your eyes? You make fun of me, yet although you constantly hear words of reproof, the words of the living G-d, from holy books, you still sin. You’re still destroying your life.”

Typically, when a person wants to rid himself of a bad trait that hurts him and others, he studies Mussar texts or follows the suggestions found in self-help literature. However, that approach may not help. And if so, it is possible that this trait has come as a punishment for his sins. Therefore, the way for him to rectify that bad trait is to do teshuvah for his sins, even though he may not see any connection between the two.

Food for Thought

Rashi (Shemot 7:3): Since he [Pharaoh] behaved wickedly and defied Me, and I know full well that there is no delight among the nations to make a wholehearted attempt to repent, it is better for Me that his heart be hardened, so that [I can] increase My signs and My wonders in him, and you will recognize My mighty deeds, and so is the custom of the Holy One, blessed be He. He brings retribution on the nations so that Israel should hear and fear, as it is said: “I have cut off nations; their towers have become desolate… I said, ‘Surely you will fear Me, you will accept reproof’” (Tzephania. 3:6-7). Nevertheless, in the first five plagues, it does not say, “And the Lord strengthened Pharaoh’s heart,” but “Pharaoh’s heart remained steadfast.”

Ramban (Shemot 7:3): I will answer the question that all who read this narrative are want to ask; “If G-d hardens Pharaoh’s heart what is his sin?” There are two reasons both of which are true.

The first reason is that Pharaoh, in his wickedness, committed unwarranted acts of evil against Israel. As a result, his ability to repent was removed. There are many verses in Scripture that suggest that one can be judged by one’s earlier actions.

The second reason is that his sin was his unwillingness to liberate Israel resulting in the first five plagues, where it only says, “Pharaoh’s heart was stiffened,” or “Pharaoh’s heart was hardened.” This exhibits that he did not want to liberate Israel to honor G-d. However, when the plagues intensified and he began to suffer from them, his heart was softened and he was wont to free them because of the plagues and not in recognition of divine will. At that point, G-d hardened his spirit and strengthened his heart in order to make His name known…

Rambam (Hilchot Teshuva 6:3): And, it is possible that a man should commit either one grievous iniquity or a multitude of sins so that the Judge of Truth will decree against him that, whereas this sinner committed those sins of his own free will and consciously, repentance should be withheld from him altogether, and grant him no leave to repent, so that he might die and perish in the iniquity he committed. Even this is what the Holy One, blessed is He! said through Isaiah: “Make the heart of this people fat, and make their eyes heavy, and shut their eyes; lest they, seeing with their eyes, and hearing with their ears, and understanding with their heart will return and be healed” (Is. 6.10). It is, moreover, said: “But they mocked the messengers of G-d, and despised His words and scoffed at His prophets, until the wrath of the Lord arose against His people till there was no remedy”. (II Chro. 36.16)—as if saying: “They sinned of their own free will and they have multiplied iniquities, until their guilt carried the punishment to withhold repentance from them, which is the remedy”. It is, therefore, written in the Torah; “And I will harden Pharaoh’s heart” (Ex. 14.4), because at the beginning he sinned of his own free will, and meted out evil to Israel who sojourned in his land, even as it is said: “Come, let us deal wisely with them” (Ibid. 1.10). Thereat justice demanded to withhold repentance from him, so that due punishment might be visited upon him. Wherefor, the Holy One, blessed is He! hardened his heart. If it be so, then why did He delegate Moses to him, charging him to let Israel go forth and turn to repentance seeing that the Holy One, blessed is He! long since told him thou wilt not let them go forth, saying: “But as for thee and thy servants, I know that ye will not yet fear the Lord G-d” (Ibid. 9.30), and again saying: “But in very deed for this cause have I made thee to stand, to show thee My power, and that My name be declared throughout all the earth”(Ibid. –16)? To demonstrate to the future generations whenever the Holy One, blessed is He! withholds repentance from a sinner he cannot repent, but must die in the original evil which he perpetrated of his own free will. Sihon, too, by the measure of his iniquity became guilty of an offence which carried the punishment to have repentance withheld from him, even as it is said: “For the Lord thy G-d hardened his spirit, and made his heart obstinate” (Deut. 2.30). Likewise the Canaanites, according to their abominations, did He withhold repentance from them so that they engaged Israel in battle, even as it is said: “For it was of the Lord, to harden their hearts, to come against Israel in battle, that they might be utterly destroyed” (Joshua, 11.20). Even so was with Israel in the days of Elijah, because of the multiplied iniquity repentance was withheld from the gross evildoers, for it is said: “For Thou didst turn their heart backward” (I. Kings, 18.37)—as if saying: “Thou didst withhold repentance from them”. Thus, as a consequence hereof, we must say: G-d’s predestination prompted not Pharaoh to wrong Israel, nor Sihon to sin in his land, nor the Canaanites to be abominable, nor Israel to worship idolatry; for they all sinned of their own free will and accord, and, therefore, were they all guilty of an offence which carries along the punishment to withhold repentance from them.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Covenant and Conversation, Va’era 5775): A second approach, in precisely the opposite direction, is that during the last five plagues G-d intervened not to harden but to strengthen Pharaoh’s heart. He acted to ensure that Pharaoh kept his freedom and did not lose it. Such was the impact of the plagues that in the normal course of events a national leader would have no choice but to give in to a superior force. As Pharaoh’s own advisers said before the eighth plague, “Do you not yet realize that Egypt is destroyed.” To give in at that point would have been action under duress, not a genuine change of heart. Such is the approach of Yosef Albo and Ovadiah Sforno.

Questions for Discussion

We usually think of punishment and involving pain and suffering. How is a bad character trait experienced as a punishment?
Why is free will an important concept in Torah? What are some basic Torah concepts that hinge on free will?
Is free will uniquely important to Judaism, or is it a basic premise of any religion?
What are some of the differences between the solutions presented by Rashi, Ramban and Rambam on the problem of G-d hardening Pharaoh’s heart? What are some similarities?
How can a person know if a bad trait is a punishment for his sin’s, like Rav Kook discusses, as opposed to something he acquired from outside influences or was born with?
Can you name some bad character traits that could come as a punishment?

Fall Back and Spring Forward – Parshat Shemot

Last year’s piece on Parshat Shemot can be found here.

Printable PDF available here.

Rav Kook (Olat Re’iah)

So they appointed over them tax collectors to afflict them with their burdens, and they built storage cities for Pharaoh, Pithom and Ra’amses. But as much as they would afflict them, so did they multiply and so did they gain strength… (Shemot 1:11-12)

There are two different paths for an individual to actualize his latent potential and bring out the full vigor and force of his capabilities. The first path is by granting space and freedom to his talents, allowing them to steadily broaden and magnify their impact in the world of action. We readily understand how this path elevates a person’s practical aptitudes and brings his potential into actuality.

In the second path, one’s talents are restrained and held back against his will, by circumstances beyond his choice or control. Any latent potential is impeded and imprisoned, and blocked from flowing outward and finding expression in the broader world. G-d leads a person on this path so that when the external impediments are removed, his potential will burst outward with greater vigor and nobility – not despite the earlier constriction, but precisely because of it.

The idea of constriction for the sake of future expansion is familiar to us from the natural world. In the cold of winter, plants cease to grow and many animals retreat to hibernation. This appears to be a time of death, when nature’s vigor is extinguished and stamped out. But this is a superficial perspective of winter. In reality, the natural world is simply turning inward to protect itself, and to conserve its strength from being depleted or spread thin. Plants and animals do not die in the winter – rather, they gather additional resources and strength, and burst forth with renewed vigor when spring arrives.[1]

This same dynamic applies to the powers of a person’s nefesh, his ethical and intellectual facilities, and his conduct in the world of action. And it applies not only to an individual, but also to the Jewish people as a collective.[2]We see this clearly at the beginning of Sefer Shemot. Israel went down to Egypt with a repository of kedushah and a spiritual vision for all of humanity, a vision that it had inherited from Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya’akov. This Divine treasure was intrinsic to Israel’s very nature, and could not be extinguished. It was destined to flourish and ascend, to expand and leave its mark on every dimension of Israel’s existence – its conduct, way of thinking, family life, political system, and economy.

However, Divine wisdom decreed that this expansion would not unfold without impediments. In the earlier generations of the Avot, the spiritual development of what would become Israel’s heritage was guided primarily along the first path. G-d protected the Avot from their enemies, helped them thrive and gave them space – physical and spiritual – to bring G-dliness into human life. In contrast, Israel’s time in Egypt would be an experience of constraint and restriction. Egypt, the most powerful empire at the time, was a place of paganism and impurity, the polar opposite of what Israel sought to bring to the world. Israel’s yearning for G-dly freedom, and its values of righteousness, compassion, and holiness – all of these would be crushed under the tremendous and apparently immovable force of Egyptian impurity, ignorance, wickedness, and worship of power. Israel would be spiritually challenged and physically enslaved, without any ability to outwardly express its spiritual vision.

The enslavement was so oppressive that before long, even Israel no longer perceived its uniqueness. But Israel’s G-dly spark could not be extinguished by Pharaoh and the whips of his task-maskers. The people had not been abandoned by G-d. No, G-d designed the Egyptian exile as a time for Israel to turn inward and gather reservoirs of spiritual strength. That strength and drive for expansiveness, that suppressed yearning to imprint G-dliness upon every level of reality in the world of action, would explode outward as soon as G-d broke the might of the Egyptian empire, declared the Jewish people His servants and set them free.

Food for Thought

Ramban al-haTorah (Shemot 33:15): [Based on the census in the book of Shemot, the tribe of Levi was less than half the size of the smallest tribe, and very far from the average of 50,000]. The small number of Levites is surprising: how could the servants and followers of God not be blessed by Him like all the rest of the nation? I believe that this substantiates what Chazal taught, namely, that the tribe of Levi were not enslaved in Egypt. Israel, whose lives were embittered with hard labor with the intention of limiting their number, were increased by God in response to the Egyptian decrees, as we learn “And the more they oppressed them, the more they increased and the more they multiplied…” For the Holy One said of the Egyptians, “Let us see whose word prevails, Mine or theirs.” But [because they were not enslaved] the tribe of Levi increased in a natural way and did not multiply like the other tribes.

Ohr haChaim (Shemot 1:11): The plain meaning of the verse is that for every unjustified act of cruelty by the Egyptians, G-d compensated the Jewish people with a commensurate increase in the number of babies that were born to them. Additional hands enabled the parents to meet the work quota imposed upon them by the Egyptians. The words כן ירבה, “so they would multiply,” would then mean that the additional number of children made up for the reduced performance by their weakened parents in proportion to the emasculating effect of the hard labor. This became a vicious circle as the Egyptians kept increasing the workload.

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Collected Writings, Vol. VII pg. 13): During an age when the rest of mankind filled history’s annals with such a poor reflection of itself in the form of Jewish blood, Jewish tears and Jewish ruins, Israel could hardly he blamed for having little desire or inclination to read the pages of history. And yet the Jewish perspective even then was never so narrow as we tend to believe today. The age of ghettos and burnings at the stake had been preceded by centuries during which Jewish sages, the sages of Jewish scholarship, had been, at the same time, pillars of the general sciences of heaven and earth. Nearly every page of the literature that was treasured in ghetto tenements bore witness to the authors’ deep insights into the nature of things and their relationship to one another, and into the nature of man and his social development. Moreover, there was within the souls of Jewish men and women a horizon far broader than the small strips of sky visible from the alleys in which the Jews were confined. In their hearts there shone a light of truth and clarity, a sun of peace and serenity that not even the oppressive darkness of their dwellings and the even darker realities outside could obscure. And so they did not really miss engaging in science or that culture which they knew to be incapable of rescuing its disciples from the shackles of shameful delusion and deplorable error. It was precisely in this isolated state in which both Jewish scholarship and the Jewish people found themselves that Jewish scholarship gave proof of the Divine strength which is inherent in it, of the light that refreshes the soul, brightens the eyes and gladdens the heart. Even when it was turned inward upon itself and its wellsprings, Jewish scholarship was capable of enlightening, strengthening, ennobling, uplifting, comforting and sustaining an entire nation—as long as that nation dedicated itself to these studies with a loyal, devoted and sincere love.

Questions for Discussion

Do you think the Jewish people have been more successful at the first path Rav Kook describes or the second?
Midrash and Torah commentaries struggle to explain why the Jews had to be enslaved in Egypt. To grossly oversimplify, (i) some interpret it as a punishment, (ii) others try to understand it kabbalistically, (iii) some explain that the suffering somehow refined us spiritually, and (iv) some interpret that our redemption from slavery was meant to teach critical spiritual and ethical lessons to the world and the Jewish people. Where does Rav Kook fall on this issue?
What are other parallels between individual human development and Israel’s national development?
The Zohar teaches that that the Jews were on the 49^thlevel of tumah in Egypt, and that had the Exodus been delayed another moment, they would have been spiritually destroyed. But only a short time later, they were singing to G-d at the Yam Suf and hearing G-d speak at Har Sinai! How can Rav Kook’s insights help us make sense of this apparent paradox?
What is a time in your life when G-d led you on the first path that Rav Kook describes? On the second path?
Based on Rav Kook’s insights, can you give a deeper explanation of why Pesach always falls (and must always full) in the springtime?
See the Ohr haChaim in “Food for Thought” above. How is he similar to Rav Kook? How is he different?

[1]Another example of this phenomenon is a spring, where pushing down creates potential energy that is released explosively once the pressure is removed.

[2]Chazal state (based on a pasuk in Yechezkel) about the Jewish people that אתם קרויים אדם. As Rav Kook interprets it, this means that Israel is governed by many of the same rules and patterns that apply to the nature and development of individuals.

Building a Strong Foundation – Parshat Pekudei

Printable PDF available here.

Translation (Midbar Shur, Drush 15):

One hundred kikar of the silver [collected from the census of half-shekalim] was used for casting the sockets of the Mishkan and the dividing curtain… (Shemot 38:27)

Commentary

Although peace is an important value for all nations, and not only the Jewish people, there is an important difference in our respective concepts of peace. The non-Jewish world regards peace as a means to some end, usually material prosperity. After all, strife, conflict and war interfere with the ability of individuals to satisfy their desires. In Israel, however, peace has intrinsic value of its own. Our nation’s innermost desire is to achieve closeness with the Divine, and God’s presence only rests upon us when we are in harmony with each other. [1]

From this distinction arises another very important difference. In the world at large, where peace is merely a means to an end, the emphasis is placed on acting in a peaceable manner. The main thing is that someone acts to promote the welfare of his fellow. What lies in the recesses of one’s heart, whether one lives with an inner sense of peace and collective unity – this is of secondary importance. But for the Jewish people, with its elevated notion of peace, a consciousness and state of mind of peace is equally important. This is why God commands that we specifically give half of a shekel. The action of contributing to the collective is only half of the task; the other half is the mental state of loving fellow Jews and the Jewish people as a collective. (Incidentally, this is also why the Torah [2] prohibits a wealthy person from contributing more than a half-shekel. It is God’s way of signaling that the shekel contribution is more than just a practical matter of raising funds.)

There is a third fundamental difference in our conception of peace, which flows from the earlier two. Among the nations of the world, it is the individual who is the ultimate beneficiary of peace. This involves an element of egotism. However, in Israel, the primary and intended beneficiary of peace is the collective. God sealed His covenant with Klal Yisrael and His presence rests among that collective only when there is peace. [3]

This is why the half-shekalim collected by Moshe were used to make the sockets (lit. אדנים) that held together the beams of the Mishkan. That fact that every Jew contributed to the construction of the Mishkan was literally and figuratively the foundation of its holiness. This set the tone for the future and for all matters of holiness. Sanctity, whether in the midbar or in the twenty-first century, is the domain of the collective. We do not believe that the collective exists only for the sake of the individual. On the contrary, the individual Jew, as important as he is, finds his highest striving in contributing to the collective.

Food for Thought

Fyodor Dostoevsky (Russia, 1800s), The Brothers Karamazov: “Some claim the world is gradually becoming united, that it will grow into a brotherly community as distances shrink and ideas are transmitted through the air. Alas, you must not believe that men can be united in this way. To consider freedom as directly dependent on the number of man’s requirements and the extent of their immediate satisfaction shows a twisted understanding of human nature, for such an interpretation only breeds in men a multitude of senseless, stupid desires and habits and endless preposterous inventions. People are more and more moved by envy now, by the desire to satisfy their material greed, and by vanity.”
Samson Raphael Hirsch (Germany, 1800s), Chorev: “It is only essays which I venture to offer, not a complete treatise. I shall be happy if here and there someone more gifted than I am finds a thought which he considers worth pursuing, taking up the work at the point where my powers come to an end… I shall be happy if anything erroneous or false attaching to my work is recognized as such, so that it does not help to increase the total of error and falsehood in the world; but I shall also be happy if it contains something true and pure which [God]… would not disdain to reckon as but a small contribution to the joyous upbuilding of the Holy of Holies in Israel. To have carried even one stone to the mighty structure, to have contributed one drop of oil to the lamp of the Sanctuary – who would not find in this his abundant reward!”
Yosef Dov Soloveitchik (America, 1900s), Tradition 17:2: “The community in Judaism is not a functional-utilitarian, but an ontological one. The community is not just an assembly of people who work together for their mutual benefit, but a metaphysical entity, an individuality: I might say, a living whole. In particular, Judaism has stressed the wholeness and the unity of Knesset Israel, the Jewish community. The latter is not a conglomerate. It is an autonomous entity, endowed with a life of its own. We, for instance, lay claim to Eretz Israel. God granted the land to us as a gift. To whom did He pledge the land? Neither to an individual, nor to a partnership consisting of millions of people. He gave it to the Knesset Israel, to the community as an independent unity, as a distinct juridic metaphysical person. He did not promise the land to me, to you, to them; nor did He promise the land to all of us together. Abraham did not receive the land as an individual, but as the father of a future nation. The owner of the Promised Land is the Knesset Israel, which is a community persona.”
Avigdor Amiel (Israel, late 1800s – early 1900s), Ethics and Legality in Jewish Law: “In order to enforce order, there must be some denial of the individual’s rights in society, or sacrifice of the private to the public good. No government or political order in the world can always benefit every individual. Every form of government must strive for the public good, and if the individual must occasionally suffer, there is no great harm done. But the Jewish national character cannot bear this, for Jewish ethics preaches the absolute freedom of the individual, which cannot be abrogated on behalf of society.”

Questions for Reflection and Discussion

Do you know anyone who embodies the ideal of contributing to Klal Yisrael?
Do you agree with Rav Kook’s analysis that the individual Jew finds his highest calling in contributing to the collective? What sense do you get from reading the Torah? What are some ramifications of this view?
Could Rav Kook’s analysis explain why the Torah has a problem with census taking?
In many of his recorded shiurim, [4] Moshe Taragin (a contemporary Ram at Yeshivat Har Etzion) has stated that the religious life of Jews in Chutz l’Aretz has a clear individualist bent. He argues that Jews in modern Israel live with a clearer sense of collective identity, as a result of (i) the shared sense of enterprise in building a country and (ii) the fact that in Israel, Jews are not a minority and Torah is part of public discourse. Do you agree?
What do you have to contribute to Klal Yisrael?
While most of the half-shekalim were used to make the sockets that held the Mishkan together, a small number were used to make hooks (lit. ווים) that held up the curtains around the courtyard. How might that express the value of peace and collective unity?

[1] Rav Kook cites the midrash (Sifrei, V’zot haBeracha) on the verse “And He became a King in Yeshurun, when the leaders were gathered together, the tribes of Israel.” The midrash understands that the verse is presenting a cause-and-effect relationship. I.e. God is King in Yeshurun (i.e. Israel) when the people are unified.

[2] Shemot 30:15.

[3] It is my unscientific impression that contemporary sermons/divrei Torah about the Mishkan tend to emphasize the individualist aspect of Torah. Rav Kook is giving us a different perspective.

[4] Available on YUtorah.org

A Sacred Flame – Parshat Vayakhel

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Printable PDF available here.

Translation (Ein Ayah, Shabbat 20a):

In Shemot 35:3, the Torah states “Do not kindle fire in any of your dwelling places on Shabbat.” The implication is that kindling is only prohibited in one’s personal dwelling. But in the Temple, it is permittedto burn offerings on Shabbat. (Gem. Shabbat 20a)

The verse and this teaching of our Sages present two difficulties;

We know that the prohibition of creative labor (lit. melacha) on Shabbat encompasses 39 different categories of activity. Why is lighting fire is the only category explicitly mentioned in the Torah?
Outside of the Temple, the sanctity of Shabbat demands a total cessation of Why is there a lower standard within the Temple? Wouldn’t we have expected the opposite? And why is there a special dispensation for lighting fire, as opposed to other melachot?

A deeper understanding of fire can resolve both of these questions. Fire epitomizes human creativity and control over nature. Granted, human initiative is involved with all melachot,but fire is unique. Other melachot– such as plowing, building, and dyeing – involve no more than tweaking and reshaping existing physical forms. In contrast, the process of combustion brings forth heat and light, and is truly a dynamic and transformative process.[1]

Now, the restrictions against working on Shabbat are meant to reinforce the notion that God is Creator of the world. Thus, one might have concluded – and not unreasonably – that only the pristine and natural world (lit. teva), uncorrupted by human endeavor, is God’s handiwork. Perhaps human creativity and technology are at best spiritually irrelevant, and at worst aberrations that are foreign to the true purpose of God’s creation. If this were the case, it should be permitted to kindle fire on Shabbat, inasmuch as kindling represents human innovation applied to transform the natural order, as opposed to working within it.

To disabuse us of this misconception, the Torah expressly singles out lighting fire as a prohibited melacha.[2]We thus learn that human creativity is a fundamental part of God’s creation and His design of the universe. After all, the intellectual capacities used by man to transform the natural world were granted by God Himself![3]It follows that our ingenuity in reshaping the natural world contributes to the goal of creation, in accordance with God’s supernal wisdom.

A person must therefore be conscious of his tremendous power to change and improve the physical world. However, this power will only bring blessing to the world if it is utilized under the auspices of righteousness and Godly integrity. The Temple is the ultimate location from which such enlightenment can be drawn. The Temple was the focal point of Divine revelation and the source of spiritual guidance for both the individual and the collective. It follows that extending the prohibition against kindling to the Temple would be self-defeating and would short-circuit the spiritual value of human creativity. It would give man the notion that he should adopt a passive stance toward the world, and cast the burden of improving his welfare on God alone.

Thus, the dispensation for kindling fire in the Temple helps us internalize the holiness of our God-given power to develop the physical world. The Divine morality that flows outward from the Temple teaches us to use our ingenuity in a spirit of righteousness, to reshape the world and the society we construct within it with a new heart and a holy spirit.

Commentary

Rav Kook gives forceful expression to the spiritual value of human innovation and technological advancement. These capacities are part of God’s creation, and their unfolding contributes to the Divine plan for humanity. Rav Kook resoundingly rejects the position that all efforts to improve human welfare are futile, either because our fate is completely in the hands of God, or because creativity is only valued in the realm of Torah learning/the beit midrash.[4]

As far as I am aware, Rav Soloveitchik is the only other major rabbinic figure who grants spiritual dignity to man’s efforts to transform the physical world. The Rav argues that human creativity is a channel by which man expresses his Divine image (lit. tzelem elokim), inasmuch as God is the Creator par excellence. As he writes, “The spiritual message behind the story of Creation is that man too must be creative. Man must conquer disease, control rivers, and alleviate misery… A moral principle follows from this article of faith [that God created the world ex-nihilo]: the Creation narrative challenges man to create.”[5]

I think that Rav Kook can offer us another valuable insight about fire, specifically the havdalah fire that we kindle right after Shabbat concludes. Our Sages taught[6]that Adam was cast out of Gan Eden after Shabbat and became terrified by the onset of darkness. God taught him the skill of kindling fire by striking together two flint-stones, and enabled him to banish the gloom. This tradition takes on new meaning in light of Rav Kook’s teaching. As we prepare to re-enter the work week, we acknowledge the spiritual potential and dignity of melacha by blessing God as the creator of flame.

Contrast this tradition of our Sages with the Greek myth of Prometheus.[7]To quote Rabbi Jonathan Sacks,[8]“to the Greeks, the gods were essentially hostile to mankind. Zeus wanted to keep the art of making fire secret, but Prometheus stole a spark and taught men how to make it. Once the theft was discovered, Zeus punished him by having him chained to a rock… [and tortured for eternity]. Against this background can we see the revolutionary character of Jewish faith. We believe that G-d wants human beings to exercise power: responsibly, creatively, and within limits set by the integrity of nature. The rabbinic account of how G-d taught Adam and Eve the secret of making fire is the precise opposite of the story of Prometheus. G-d seeks to confer dignity on the beings He made in His image as an act of love. He does not hide the secrets of the universe from us. He does not seek to keep mankind in a state of ignorance or dependence. The creative G-d empowers us to be creative and begins by teaching us how. He wants us to be guardians of the world He has entrusted to our care.”

Questions for Reflection and Discussion

Rav Kook does not get into details on how exactly human innovation and technology furthers God’s purposes. What do you think he has in mind?
Is there any particular technology that you think illustrates the spiritual dignity of man’s creative abilities? (Note – technology is any application of human ingenuity to address a problem. It’s not limited to something you purchase at Best Buy.)
Do you think the Orthodox community or educational system does a good job of encouraging creativity? If not, how could we improve?
Would Rav Kook agree that some technologies that are intrinsically detrimental to human welfare, or would he claim that everything has spiritual potential?
Some would argue that technology has become a form of idolatry. One author, in a recent book[9]about the dangers of social media, claims that we live in a ‘technopoly,’ which he defines as “the deification of technology, which means that the culture seeks its authorization in technology, finds its satisfactions in technology, and takes its orders from technology.” This ideological domination demands a sacrifice of all previously stable belief systems. So trust in institutions, ancient or modern, erodes. Any order, system, or tradition is deemed suspicious or ripe for “disruption” simply because of its date of origin, as if durability were a sign of weakness instead of strength. Local identities and traditions are rendered valueless except as raw material for remixes, parody, tourism, tapestries, and games rather than expressions of deep human narratives and connections. Learning becomes a matter of searching, copying, and pasting rather than immersing, considering, and deliberating. Meditation becomes a hobby, a holiday for those privileged enough to purchase the time, rather than a practice that connects one with a spirit or purpose…. Everyone is quantified. Everyone is exposed. Everyone is on guard. Everyone is exhausted.” What are your thoughts on whether the society we live in has a healthy relationship with technology? Whether you have a healthy relationship with technology?

[1]Consider also that fire (i) is a source of illumination that allows mankind to transcend the limitations imposed by the darkness of night and (ii) was the fundamental technology that enabled primitive mankind to forge metal and develop tools.

[2]In other words, it is taken from granted that the other 38 melachot are prohibited. The Torah comes to tell us that even kindling is a prohibited melachaas well.

[3]In the Hebrew, Rav Kook alludes to the words of Isaiah (26:12) – כי גם כל מעשינו פעלת לנו.

[4]This was not merely a matter of theory in Rav Kook’s generation (or in ours, for that matter). Many European Jews abandoned Torah observance because they perceived an unhealthy willingness and a total disinterest of observant Jews in making any efforts to shape their own destiny.

[5] Reflections of the Rav, cited in the Mesoras haRav Chumash (Bereishit 1:2). An excellent English article about the Rav’s teachings on creativity is available here.

[6]Gemara Pesachim 54a.

[7]Many other cultures also have a myth that involves the theft of fire from the heavens by a terrestrial hero.

[8]http://rabbisacks.org/light-make-shemini-5777

[9]Antisocial Media, pg. 19.

The Torah of Tolerance – Parshat Ki Tisa

Printable PDF available here.

Translation (Ein Ayah, Berachot 59b):

And the Lord passed before him and proclaimed, “Lord, Lord, benevolent God, Who is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger (lit. ארך אפיים) and abundant in loving kindness and truth.” (Shemot 34:6)

Upon seeing a statue of Mercury [1] [or any other idol], [2] one pronounces the blessing “Blessed is He who is slow to anger (lit. ארך אפיים)with those who transgress His will.” (Gemara Berachot 59b)

As a general matter, it is important that a God-fearing and spiritually distinguished person acquire the trait of tolerance (lit. סבלנות). Those who turn away from God should be met with patience, provided that they aren’t harassing the faithful or trying to influence them to adopt evil ways. For this reason, the Torah directs us to traverse the “paths of peace” (lit. דרכי שלום) even in our dealings with wicked idolaters. [3]

However, there is a distorted form of דרכי שלום that actually compromises one’s spiritual vigor. One can easily fall into the mistaken belief that the Torah’s ארך אפיים, its measure of patience for wickedness, is because evil contain a measure of truth after all! This poisonous attitude confounds a person and undermines his confidence in the pristine purity of Torah and yirat Hashem. It must be that there is a deeper spiritual reason for tolerating wickedness and foolishness, one that does not involve the slightest compromise on the truth of the Torah. But how could that possibly be?

The answer requires a broad understanding of how Divine Providence operates. Not all of the paths that humanity must traverse before achieving spiritual perfection have a straight trajectory. God’s plan for humanity includes darkness and confusion as well, in the form of false religions, corrupt religious ideals, and impure notions of morality promulgated by wicked cultures. Kabbalistic sources [4] teach that this is also a part of Divine goodness, inasmuch as the existence of evil accentuates goodness and brings it into sharper relief.

Paganism participates in this very dynamic. Through the confusion and emptiness of paganism, humanity comes to a more profound comprehension of God and the pleasantness of His ways. This is why our Sages established that upon encountering idolatry, we praise God for being “slow to anger.” That encounter reminds us that the Divine will has a multitude of ways of achieving its ends, and that even wickedness plays a role in the universe’s movement towards perfection. In the words of Isaiah, “I am the Lord and there is no other. Who forms light and creates darkness, who makes peace and creates evil – I am the Lord, Who makes all of these!” [5]

Commentary

The non-Jewish world has developed various theories to justify religious tolerance. Some (like Milton) claimed that reason and free inquiry, as opposed to coercion, are the best ways to uncover religious truth. Others (like John Stuart Mill) maintained that there are insufficient sufficient rational grounds for verifying the claims of any religion, and so an attitude of agnosticism is called for. Some argued that tolerance is the only way to avoid sectarian bloodshed, of the sort that tore Europe apart in the wake of the Protestant Reformation. And finally, there is the cynical form of post-modern tolerance that it is meaningless and arbitrary to grant preferential treatment to any religion, as the concepts of truth, God and morality are all a fiction.

All of these theories compromise the absolute truth of the Torah, and are hence unacceptable to us as believing Jews. The second commandment is “You shall have no other Gods before me” – not “Live and let live,” “What harm does it do to you?” or “Thou shalt ensure a free marketplace of ideas.” Now, it would be easy if we could simply dismiss the entire world of non-Jewish belief, and condemn it for its wickedness and falseness. But as Rav Kook notes, the Torah itself advocates some measure of tolerance and darchei shalom! Rav Kook gives us a mystical and metaphysical way to make sense of this paradox.

This paradox is especially important because we live in a modern liberal ^[6] society that has granted tolerance a supreme position in its hierarchy of moral virtues. Outside of Israel, this has been a tremendous blessing, in the sense that we are free to practice our religion, educate our children and participate in broader economic and cultural life generally unencumbered by discriminatory laws and religious prejudice. This is a world that would have been unimaginable to ancestors in the shtetl, and we have much to be grateful for. But how do we participate in an open and tolerant society without compromising our passion and commitment to the truth of Torah Judaism? There are many answers to this question – R. Jonathan Sacks would not give the same answer as Rav Kook, nor would R. Samson Raphael Hirsch or R. Soloveitchik. But we have to ask the question and have our eyes open to the dangers – not just the opportunities – of the cultural milieu that we live in. [7] After all, it is not so difficult to slip from the ארך אפיים mandated by the Torah to a poisonous relativism that, in the worlds of one non-Jewish scholar “suggests that actually accepting another’s position means believing that position to be true, or at least as true as your own. We move from allowing the free expression of contrary opinions to the acceptance of all opinions; we leap from permitting the articulation of beliefs and claims with which we do not agree to asserting that all beliefs and claims are equally valid.” [8]

This issue takes on another level of urgency in the State of Israel. In the words of R. Jonathan Ziring in an article on this topic, “For most of the last two thousand years, Jews were rarely in a position to prosecute practitioners of other religions – they had their own problems to worry about. Even now, in the Diaspora, Jews are not in control, so they can happily live in… nations that allow them to enjoy religious freedom, without worrying about who else enjoys those rights. However, the establishment of the State of Israel forced halakhic authorities to at least ask the question – should an ideal Jewish state have religious freedom?”

Questions for Reflection and Discussion

Most of Rav Kook’s comments deal with non-Jewish idolatry and religion. Would he grant the same legitimacy to ארך אפיים towards sectarian or un-Jewish ideas within the Jewish community. Why or why not? (In this connection, see Ramban’s comments on Shemot 20:4 [9] regarding God describing himself as קל קנא.)
Does the culture we live in have a healthy and calibrated concept of tolerance?
Are there any particular ‘hot-button issues’ in the Jewish world where you think one side has allowed tolerance to compromise their commitment to Torah and halacha? Where one side is lacking in proper ארך אפיים and tolerance?
To quote R. Jonathan Ziring again, “A perusal of Tanakh, Mishnah, Talmud, or Midrash (not to mention Maccabees or Josephus) will uncover laws and narratives that make it clear that the Torah did not encourage “tolerating” idolatrous religions, especially in the Land of Israel. As the Jews entered the Land, they were enjoined to destroy the temples and religious artifacts of the indigenous peoples, and were warned against establishing treaties with them, lest they be influenced by that culture.” How does this fit with Rav Kook’s articulation of tolerance as a Torah value?
The Talmud Yerushalmi [10] says regarding God’s trait of ארך אפיים that “Whoever says that God is a ותרן [that he relents and doesn’t show too much concern for what people do] should be disemboweled. Rather, He delays His anger and then collects what is His.” Does this support or contradict Rav Kook’s explanation?
Do you know anyone who epitomizes the trait of ארך אפיים as Rav Kook explains it?

[1] See here and here for more on the historical background to this idolatry and its form of worship.

[2] Rishonim dispute whether this blessing applies only to Mercury or to idolatry more generally. The above translation follows the position of the Rishonim (supported by the Tosefta) which is adopted as halacha in Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chaim 224:1).

[3] Rav Kook seems to assume that darchei shalom reflects fundamental Torah values, and is not just a pragmatic way of avoiding enmity from non-Jews. See here for an excellent shiur on this topic from R. Jonathan Ziring.

[4] Rav Kook references Sefer Yetzirah.

[5] Isaiah 45:6-7. Rav Kook also invokes Iyov 14:4, as interpreted by Bamidbar Rabbah (19:1), that God “brings forth purity from the impure.” As examples, the midrash comments that כגון אברהם מתרח, חזקיה מאחז, יאשיה מאמון, מרדכי משמעי, ישראל מעובדי כוכבים, העולם הבא מעולם הזה.

[6] I am using ‘liberal’ in the sense of a political theory, not the way it would be used on Fox News or on an angry Facebook post.

[7] Indeed, Rishonim, quoted by the Rama (Orach Chaim 224:1), write that we no longer pronounce a blessing upon seeing idolatry because we encounter it constantly, and the blessing was only established for periodic exposure to idolatry.

[8] The Intolerance of Tolerance by D.A. Carson, pg. 3. In the words of another contemporary scholar, “A consequence of such an understanding of tolerance is a tendency to insist that opinions regarding value, to the extent that they are not tolerant in the advanced liberal sense, be kept private. To allow opinions that insist that some preferences are better than others publicity and possible influence would unjustly burden other equally valid preferences. Advanced liberal society therefore discredits, neutralizes, or silences those who speak out about matters of good and evil… except… those who undermine understandings of the good that compete with liberalism.”

[9] ולא נמצא בכתוב בשום מקום שיבא לשון קנאה בשם הנכבד כי אם בענין עבודה זרה בלבד. ואמר הרב במורה הנבוכים (א לב) שלא תמצא בכל התורה ובכל ספרי הנביאים לשון חרון אף ולא לשון כעס ולא לשון קנאה אלא בענין ע”ז בלבד. והנה בקדושי עליון ויחר אף ה’ במשה (לעיל ד יד) ויחר אף ה’ בם וילך (במדבר יב ט) וכתוב (איוב מב ז) חרה אפי בך ובשני רעיך כי לא דברתם אלי נכונה כעבדי איוב. אבל בלשון קנאה אמת הוא וכך אמרו במכילתא (כאן) בקנאה אני נפרע מע”ז אבל אני חנון ורחום בדברים אחרים. ולפי דעתי שיזכיר קנאה בע”ז בישראל בלבד וטעם הקנאה כי ישראל סגולת השם הנכבד אשר הבדילם לו כאשר פירשתי למעלה (יט ה) והנה אם העם שלו משרתיו פונים אל אלהים אחרים יקנא בהם השם כאשר האיש מקנא באשתו בלכתה לאחרים ובעבדו בעשות לו אדון אחר ולא יאמר הכתוב כן בשאר העמים אשר חלק להם צבאות שמים.

[10]Ta’anit 2:1.