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Spiritual Wealth – Parshat Bo

Rav Kook (Ein Ayah, Gemara Berachot 9b)

“Speak, please (lit. נא) in the ears of the people, and they should borrow, every man from his fellow and every woman from her fellow, silver and gold vessels.” (Exodus 11:2).

Gemara Berachot 9b: G-d used an expression of supplication. He said to Moshe “Go and tell Israel, I beseech you, borrow vessels of silver and vessels of gold from the Egyptians in order to fulfill the promise I made to Abraham in theברית בין הבתרים  so that that righteous person (i.e. Avraham) will not say that God fulfilled “And they will be enslaved and afflicted,” but not “And afterward they will leave with great wealth” (Genesis 15:13–14).

The nature of a slave is to be accustomed to being ignored and abused. Slaves have no ambition and no desire for greater things. When G-d set our ancestors free, He summoned them to a higher level of existence as partners to a Divine covenant. Instead of building pyramids under the hot sun, they were build edifices of spiritual splendor. But this process of rehabilitation was not an easy or a natural one. The Israelites needed something to coax them into spiritual ambition and ignite their passion for religious development.

This was the deeper spiritual purpose of the wealth that G-d bestowed on the Israelites in the Exodus. Their newfound gold and silver was intended to stir them out of their brokenness and complacency, and awaken an awareness that they could long for more. However, there was a danger that the people would come to value Egypt’s wealth for its own sake, instead of using it as an engine to power their spiritual advancement. For this reason, G-d did not command the people to request gold or silver from the Egyptians, but so to speak “requested” it of them. This was G-d’s way of signaling that these treasures do not have intrinsic value.

Perhaps the spiritual purpose of G-d’s promise of wealth also explains why this promise was made to Avraham. More than the other Avot, Avraham yearned to spread knowledge of G-d throughout the world. He sought to establish a nation that would illuminate the pagan darkness just like he did as an individual, but on a greater scale. But Israel cannot influence other nations without a robust involvement in the world of wealth and commerce. Through vigorous and thriving economic activity, Jews come into contact with other nations, who are influenced by their ethical conduct and the unique spiritual life that they model. A nation of shepherds and paupers cannot be a light unto the nations.

Thus, Avraham desired not only that the Jews emerge from the purifying furnace of enslavement, ready to accept the yoke of Torah and mitzvot, but also that their spirits be rehabilitated and elevated through a desire for wealth and a healthy yearning for economic activity.

All Natural? – Parshat Va’eira

Printable PDF available here. Prior years’ pieces on Vayeira are available here and here.

Rav Kook (Based on Shemonah Kevatzim, 7:75)

I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and I will increase My signs and My wonders in the land of Egypt. (Shemot 7:3)

Miracles spur us to re-evaluate our understanding of the natural order. They make us realize that the laws of nature can be suspended by their Divine legislator, and are not as firm or immutable as they seem. We recalibrate and realize that nature seems weak and flimsy, pliant to the world of Divine miracles that soars above it.

However, it is not for mere theology that the Torah presents nature as subordinate to G-dly miracles. The ultimate end of this knowledge is an ethical one – to become aware that the flawed, cruel and indecent aspects of our own inner nature are similarly not immutable. They can also become pliant and subservient to the Divine command, provided that we allow the G-dly light that sustains everything into our souls, in all of its splendor. We do not have to be stuck with habits, traits or behaviors that coarsen us or clog up our spiritual potential. We can change.

However, just as all great lights cast a shadow, this notion can be distorted and taken to an unhealthy extreme. One must exercise vigilance so that his conception of the natural order’s weakness does not extend to the positive and healthy aspects of his nature. Those must be fortified and encouraged, and allowed to unfold in a natural, healthy and holy way.

Food for Thought

Rabbi Yeruchom Levovitz (Da’as Torah, Shemot p. 75): The truth is that the main purpose for the whole Exodus from Egypt is belief in the concept of miracles. The main idea is to know and recognize that at the heart of existence is a spiritual core. One should know that existence is not just that which we see with our physical eyes, or sense with our physical senses. The physicality that we see in Creation is only clothing for the true existence. What is the true core to existence [which the Egyptian experience demonstrates]? It is spirituality, which is the source of all Creation.

Rabbi Akiva Tatz (Living Inspired, p. 152): The Sfas Emes expresses the connection between the miracles commemorated at the Seder and the rest of Jewish history in the most beautiful manner. He asks why we call the procedure of Seder Night a “seder” – the word “seder” means “order,” a regular, predictable series of events. Strange that we celebrate the most potent series of miracles, the sharpest departures from the natural order, with the name seder, “order”! His answer is unforgettable. For the Jewish people, our natural order is the miraculous! We have a seder of miracles. We were forged in impossible circumstances, conceived in a blaze of miracles, born beyond time. We can never descend into the natural; for us to do so would be souring of the worst kind, transforming matzah to chametz; lethal in the extreme.

Rabbi Meir Twerski (TorahWeb.org – Miracles and Wonders): The mishna in Pesachim teaches that the format for sippur yetzias Mitzrayim is maschil b’genus u’mesayeim b’shvach – one begins by recounting our disgrace and concluding with our glory (116a, translation adapted from Artscroll). Shmuel opines that genus refers to the fact that avadim hayinu, we were slaves. (This stands in contradistinction to Rav’s opinion that genus refers to our ancestors having been idolatrous. We incorporate both opinions in the hagadah.) The gemara does not explicitly state what the contrasting, corresponding shvach is. Primo facie, it is obvious. The contrasting, corresponding shvach is that we are now free. And, in fact, the Maharal miPrag (Gevuros Hashem) explicates Shmuel’s view in this way. Rambam, however, interprets very differently. He writes (Hilchos Chametz U’Matzah 7:4) that the counterpoint to avadim hayinu are the “miracles and wonders that were performed for us [in Mitzrayim] and in our freedom.” Rambam’s interpretation is puzzling. The formulation maschil b’genus u’mesayeim b’shvach suggests sharp contrast, thesis and antithesis. How are miracles the antithesis of slavery?

The answer lies in understanding the spiritual deficit and handicap of slavery. “Ki Li Bnai Yisroel avodim – v’lo avadim la’avodim – Bnai Yisroel are My slaves, and not slaves to slaves [says Hashem].” The dependence, vulnerability and accountability which a slave feels vis-a-vis his human master obstruct his relationship with Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Being the beneficiary of nissim and niflaos (miracles and wonders) not only reflects a direct relationship with Hakadosh Baruch Hu, but a privileged one. Thus from a spiritual perspective the nissim v’niflaos she’na’asu lanu are indeed the ultimate antithesis of avadim hayinu…

The Rambam’s quintessential definition of sippur yetzias Mitzrayim is absolutely remarkable. Sippur yetzias Mitzrayim, according to Rambam, is NOT about the exodus per se. In fact the Rambam does not even allude to, much less mention, freedom in his definition of mitzvas sippur yetzias Mitzrayim. Sippur yetzias Mitzrayim is the story of an enslaved, formerly idolatrous people who become so close to Hakadosh Baruch Hu that He bestows nissim v’niflaos upon them. The fact of liberation per se is only significant insofar as the freedom was a byproduct of nissim v’niflaos and enabled our new, privileged relationship with Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Sippur yetzias Mitzrayim is the story of spiritual transformation. An enslaved (and thus, remote), formerly idolatrous people through nissim v’niflaos become Hashem’s chosen people (Rambam Hilchos Chametz U’Matzah 7:4) enjoying privileged treatment and relationship.

Ramban (end of Parshat Bo, as summarized by Rav Ezra Bick): In his comments on the commandment of tefillin (Shemot 13:16), the Ramban offers a general theory of “signs” in Judaism, and, inter alia, a summary of the purpose of signs and mitzvotin general. In fact, this is a summary of the purpose of human life and of creation. The two subjects – the meaning of “signs” and the purpose of creation – are closely intertwined in the Ramban, as we shall see.

The Ramban lists a number of theological mistakes common in the world: those who do not believe in the existence of G-d, those who do not believe in His omniscience, and those who do not accept His omnipotence or His providence. The answer to these heresies, claims the Ramban, is the occurrence of miracles. The miracle, an exception to the “way of the world and its nature,” disproves publicly those false beliefs, for it proves that the world has a “creator-G-d, knowing, supervising, and capable.” The Ramban makes the sweeping statement that the occurrence of a miracle, together with its being predicted in advance by a prophet (demonstrating the truth of prophecy), serves to “establish the entirety of the Torah.”

However, there is a problem. G-d will not perform miracles in every generation. The Ramban does not explicitly explain why not, but the expression he uses – “G-d will not perform a sign and wonder in every generation in the eyes of every evildoer and heretic” – implies that it is somehow improper, an affront to the dignity of G-d for His power to be displayed for the unworthy. (In his derasha “Torat Hashem Temima” [p.150], he writes, “The great public miracles which can confound the weak in faith are not performed for every generation, for the generations are not worthy of that, or because there is no need for it to be performed.”) In any event, the outcome is that miracles are a necessary part of the world, in order to demonstrate G-d’s power and presence, but also a necessarily absent aspect of the world, in light of the unworthiness of humanity.

The solution to the absence of miracles, according to the Ramban, is the “sign.” We are commanded to make signs, remembrances, of that which “we” saw with our eyes, so that our children and all future generations, “to the end of time,” should have the experience of the miracle – specifically, the miracles that accompanied the exodus from Egypt.

Questions for Discussion

  1. According to Rav Kook, the main lesson of miracles is ethical and not theological. Do you agree? Does the text of the Torah in the Exodus narrative offer any clues one way or the other?
  2. Why doesn’t G-d perform open miracles and suspend the laws of nature for us like He did for the generation of the Exodus?
  3. How does a person know whether certain habits, traits or behaviors belong to the positive/healthy or negative/unhealthy aspect of his or her nature?
  4. See the Sefas Emes, quoted by R. Akiva Tatz in “Food for Thought” above. Is there any way to harmonize his position with Rav Kook? Or are they completely at odds?
  5. What defines something as a miracle?

Bricks and Mortar – Parshat Shemot

Printable PDF available here. Previous pieces on Parshat Shemot are available here and here.

Due to time constraints, the “Food for Thought” and “Questions for Further Discussion” had to be omitted.

Rav Kook (Midbar Shur, 16)

 And they embittered their lives with hard labor, with clay and with bricks and with all kinds of labor in the fields, all their work that they worked with them with back breaking labor. (Shemot 1:14)

Careful study is required to discern the purpose of our exile in Egypt and its impure culture. Prior to our descent to Egypt, our monotheistic beliefs and ethical conduct distinguished us from the pagan world around us. Afterwards, our Sages teach that we seemed indistinguishable from our idolatrous Egyptian oppressors, that the ministering angels could not comprehend why G-d chose to redeem us while He drowned our oppressors in the Yam Suf. Clearly, being in exile served some greater purpose, but why did it have to unfold in a way that was so damaging to Israel’s spiritual stature?

Perhaps our national descent to Egypt should be understood in the same light as the soul’s descent into the challenges and travails of this world. In heaven, our souls bask in G-dly light and partake of a clear perception of Divine truth. There are no challenges to overcome. But this static state of being is not the purpose of Creation. G-d sends our souls down into thisworld, where we are tempted by desire, greed, laziness, and numerous other seductions that are absent in the heavenly realms. Life in this world is not about basking in G-dly light, but about confronting and overpowering the unrefined and sinister aspects of our own being, so that our G-dly soul can express its true nature.

In the same way, G-d submerged Israel into the darkness and vile filth of Egyptian paganism precisely so they could struggle to overcome it and rise above it. Only through such inauspicious beginnings could the foundation be laid for a religious framework of struggle, vigorous effort and surmounting challenges to observe the laws of the Torah. Indeed, the prophet Hoshea declares that “When Israel was young, I loved him, and from Egypt I called My child” (Hoshea 11:1). Apparently, G-d regarded our spiritual failures in the Egyptian exile as the growing pains of a child in the early stages of development.

It seems that this interpretation is also prefigured in a puzzling statement of the Zohar. The Zohar analyzes the pasuk we began with about the suffering inflicted on Israel by the Egyptians. It states that hard work, עבודה קשה, refers to קושיא, the Talmudic term for analytical questions; mortar, חומר, refers to קל וחומר, one of the logical structures of Talmudic argumentation; and bricks, לבנים, refers to לבון הלכתא, the process of clarifying halachic matters. This must be more than a cute play on words, but what does it mean? Apparently, the Zohar is teaching us that the Egyptian exile paved the way for a model of Torah Study that requires vigorous effort to reach the truth. And while the Zohar is focused on the mitzvah of Torah study – with its questions, rejoinders, and rigorous analysis that is the hallmark of Talmud study – the same thing is true of all aspects of our avodat Hashem. The dark background of temptation, challenge and failure only creates a canvas upon which our successes can be etched. This is the way that G-d has created us and our world, so that spiritual greatness can be earned and not just dispensed on a silver platter, and so that our reward can thus be that much greater.

Dare to Dream – Parshat Miketz

Printable PDF available here. Previous pieces on Miketz are available here and here.

Rav Kook (Based on Midbar Shiur, 25)

“It came to pass at the end of two full years, that Pharaoh was dreaming, and behold, he was standing by the Nile.” (Bereishit 41:1)

In various places in Jewish history, we find that Israel’s development and advancement occurs through the means of a dream. Yosef’s dreams prefigured his attainment of power in Egypt, which in turn set the stage for the exile, the Exodus and the formation of Klal Yisrael as a national entity. In this week’s parsha, Pharaoh’s dreams play a role in advancing this process as well. Similarly, in the Babylonian exile, Daniel role to power by interpreting a dream for Nevuchadnezzar. Why do dreams have a role in the Divine plan for history, and what is the spiritual purpose of dreams in general?

To answer this question, let us examine a puzzling teaching of our Sages in Gemara Berachot (55a-b), where we learn that no dream has a fixed meaning. Instead, “A dream that has not been interpreted is like a letter left unread … All dreams are fulfilled based on the interpretation given to them.” As an illustration of this principle, one rabbi even reports that he received 24 different interpretations of a dream, and that as a result, all of them were fulfilled! The question is obvious – how can an interpreter affect the meaning of a dream and alter the future accordingly? Even if a dream is some form of prophecy, a foretelling of the future, why does interpretation have such a powerful impact?

To unravel this puzzle, we need to understand why G-d endowed us with the ability to dream. A true dream is meant as a wake-up call, an exhortation to bring out hidden potential or correct something that has gone wrong. As Iyov (33:15-16) declares, “In a dream, a vision of the night, when sound sleep falls upon men, in the slumbers on the bed, He [G-d] opens the ear of men, and delivers them reproof.” Dreams are the way that G-d, in his infinite wisdom, grants a purified and spiritual mind a vivid vision of the future – one that cannot be accessed by the normal conscious faculties that operate while we are awake.

Of course, not all dreams are prophetic. Before the sin of Adam and Chavah coarsened humanity’s spiritual perception, every dream reflected profound truths. But now, most dreams are largely a confusing amalgamation of strange images, pointless thoughts and unusual flights of imagination – what our Sages refer to as “a mixture of wheat and chaff.” So let us be clear that we are talking about dreams as a category, as a part of the ideal religious experience, and not necessarily any particular dream that one of us may have had.

With that caveat, let us delve into the inner function of dreams. Dreams are a fundamental part of the framework by which Divine Providence operates in this world. The Zohar (Parshat Bo) teaches that Divine Providence is not just a top-down system where Hashem decrees what will happen and we benefit (or suffer) accordingly. Every person’s soul has a wonderous inner quality (lit. סגולה) based on his or her moral stature and level of spiritual development. The way G-d has designed the world, our soul’s inner quality draws toward us the situations and events that correspond to our spiritual level and what we are meant to accomplish in life. If we change our ways, this inner segulah changes as well, which then manifests a different set of circumstances and responsibilities.

Dreams are a part of this system of Divine providence. When one receives a profound vision of the future in a dream, he or she is not meant to be a passive recipient, like an audience member enjoying a show. The dream is supposed to be transformative, to affect the soul’s inner quality and spur a rectification, the realization of previously potential, or some other spiritual advancement. But how can a person make sure the dream affects them to their very core, and is not forgotten the moment he or she awakens from slumber?

This is where the concept of dream interpretation comes into play. As our Sages taught, “A dream that has not been interpreted is like a letter left unread.” When someone else interprets a dream, its images become more intense and vivid and take deeper root in the dreamer’s consciousness. The impact on the soul becomes far stronger. Of course, dream interpretation is itself a skilled discipline, one that requires penetrating to the inner message of the dream and separating the “wheat” from the “chaff.” Not everyone is qualified to discern the points of the dreamer’s soul that are reflected in a dream. Even if one is qualified, there are many ways to ‘connect the dots’ and even a single dream can have 24 different interpretations, as our Sages teach. A positive interpretation of a dream will helps develop and manifest positive traits hidden in the soul of the dreamer, while a negative interpretation, on the other hand, will promote negative traits.

All of these concepts are true on the national level as well. The Jewish People have a hidden inner potential for spiritual greatness and leadership of humanity. All of history is the Divine effort – and ours as well – to spur on the realization of this inner quality. The Divine hand has many ways to advance this process, and one them is through dreams (as we see by Yosef and Daniel). Perhaps this is the meaning of the enigmatic phase in Tehillim 126 (recited before Birkat haMazon), describing the ultimate geulah, where David declares “When G-d restores the captivity of Zion, we were like dreamers. Then our mouths will be filled with laughter and our tongues with songs of praise.” Why does David declare that we “were like dreamers,” in past tense, instead of “will be like dreamers” in future tense? Based on everything we have said, it seems that the answer is clear. G-d has put us in this long and dark galus so that Israel can realize its inner essence and develop its true potential. But we are still “dreaming” and have not yet reached the end of history. But eventually, the complete geulah will come, and the Jewish People, then awakened from the centuries of dreaming that brought them to that point, will look back and declare, “We have been like dreamers!.. The Lord has done great things with us!”

 

Food For Thought

Rabbi Ya’akov Sasson (Contemporary): The Shulchan Aruch (Chapter 288) states that a fast to offset a bad dream may even be observed on Shabbat, for this fast serves as one’s true enjoyment on that specific Shabbat…. Nevertheless, Rav Amram Gaon and Rabbeinu Klonimus write that nowadays, one should not fast on Shabbat to improve a bad dream since we are not experts in interpreting dreams to determine which dreams are good and which are bad. Although the Tur quotes their opinion, Maran Ha’Shulchan Aruch does not. Nonetheless, Maran Rabbeinu Ovadia Yosef zt”l… quotes the opinion of Hagaon Rabbeinu Eliyahu Ha’Kohen who writes that “although one may observe a fast to improve a dream on Shabbat, it seems that this only applies to the times of our Sages when they were experts in interpreting dreams, as opposed to nowadays. There are dreams which seem bad but are, in fact, good….

Rabbeinu Mordechai Yaffeh (author of the Levush) writes in his Sefer Levush Ha’Ora (Parashat Vayeshev) that everyone knows that a vast majority of dreams are complete nonsense without even an ounce truth to them. Maran Ha’Chida writes (Ma’arechet Gimmel): “I know that a great person who was not concerned at all about dreams. He said that there was a certain Torah scholar who would spend most Shabbatot observing fasts for bad dreams. One Shabbat he came to ask me and I told him not to fast. He then stopped having bad dreams on Friday night.”

Indeed, Hagaon Rabbeinu Eliezer Papo writes (in his Sefer Peleh Yo’etz) on the topic of dreams that the best thing is not to be concerned about dreams at all, not to be scared of them, or tell them over to anyone since dreams are usually nonsense anyway. This is especially true in our times when there is almost no one who is revealed anything about the future in one’s dreams and one’s dreams are usually fueled by one’s imagination and thoughts.

Although this is generally the case, there is no iron-clad rule here and every situation should be individually probed. With regards to the above question about a “scary” dream, there are many dreams that have no actual meaning and just scare the person (i.e. nightmares). It seems from the Gemara (Yoma 22b) that a frightening dream (called “Siyuta” in Talmudic terminology) is a different type of dream that has no bearing on the future at all. This is especially true nowadays, as we have explained.

Ramban al-haTorah (42:9): But we have to ask, after Yosef had been in Egypt for many years, and held a senior position in the household of an important Egyptian nobleman – how could he not have sent a note to his father, to inform him and to comfort him? For the distance from Egypt to Chevron is [a journey of] about six days; even if it were a journey of a year, it would have been proper for him to notify him, out of respect for his father, who would have paid a huge ransom to redeem him. But [Yosef] saw that having his brothers prostrate themselves before him, along with his father and all of his descendants, could never happen while in their land. And so he awaited his arrival in Egypt, to behold his great prosperity there, and especially after he heard Pharaoh’s dream, which made it clear to him that all of them would come there and all of his dreams would be fulfilled… Were this not the case, Yosef would have been guilty of a grave transgression in causing anguish to his father and bringing prolonged bereavement and mourning upon him, for Shimon and for himself. Even if his intention would have been to cause some anguish to his brothers, how could he not show compassion to his elderly father? He did all of this in the proper time, so as to bring his dreams to realization, for he had known that they would come true.

 

Questions for Discussion

  1. New Age philosophy makes a big deal about something called the Law of Attraction, which Wikipedia explains as follows: “[This is] the belief that positive or negative thoughts bring positive or negative experiences into a person’s life. The belief is based on the ideas that people and their thoughts are made from “pure energy”, and that a process of like energy attracting like energy exists through which a person can improve their health, wealth, and personal relationships. There is no empirical scientific evidence supporting the law of attraction, and it is widely considered a pseudoscience.” Is Rav Kook’s theory of dreams akin to the Law of Attraction? Or is he saying something different? If so, how?
  2. What are some dreams that the Jewish People have had and realized in the last century?
  3. Do you think your dreams mean anything?
  4. Other than Yosef and Daniel, where else do dreams figure in Tanach?

Threefold Completeness – Parshat Vayishlach

Printable PDF available here. Previous years’ pieces on Vayishlach are available here and here.

Rav Kook (Ein Ayah, Gemara Shabbat 33b)

“And Ya’akov came intact (lit. שלם) to the city of Shechem, which is in the land of Canaan, when he came from Paddan-aram.” This means that he was complete in his body, complete in his money, and complete in his Torah.” (Gemara Shabbat 33b)

“And he graced (lit. ויחן) the countenance of the city.” Rav said that Ya’akov established a currency for them. Shmuel said that he established marketplaces for them. And Rabbi Yoḥanan said that he established bathhouses for them. (Gemara Shabbat 33b)

Broadly speaking, human attainments can be divided into three categories – the physical body, wealth or possessions, and spiritual pursuits. Many believe that it is impossible to attain completeness in all of these different domains. A certain modicum of unity may be maintained at the outset, but this will ultimately degenerate into competition for a person’s energy and resources. For example, many people regard wealth as an intrinsic value, and sacrifice their health and wellbeing in its pursuit. Additionally, it is claimed, the ethical values proclaimed by the world of the spirit impinge on the world of the body and the pursuit of possessions.

However, this sense of conflict comes from a constricted and superficial way of perceiving the world. When understood properly, every domain of human completeness is reinforced and vivified by the others. The higher realm of the spirit can only find full expression through a healthy and vigorous body. Its realization also requires a mature society with a well-developed sense of interdependence, which is facilitated by economic activity and the pursuit of wealth.

It was Ya’akov’s essential mission to proclaim this integrated, unified conception of life. In the wake of his lonely confrontation with a mysterious stranger in the dead of night, he returned to Shechem “intact” – which our Sages interpret as referring to completeness in all three domains. Ya’akov’s body was intact and healed from its prior limp. His wealth was not diminished by his gifts to Esav. And his spiritual attainments were not harmed by the harmful environment of his devious father-in-law, Lavan.

To live this vision was the destiny of Ya’akov and remains the mission of the nation that he established. As Jeremiah declared “Every man is brutish without knowledge; every smith is put to shame by his graven image, for his molten images are false, without spirit in them. They are vanity, a work of delusion; at the time of their visitation they shall perish. Not like these is Ya’akov’s portion, for He is the One Who formed everything, and Israel is the tribe of His inheritance; the Master of Legions (אלקי צבאות) is His name.” G-d, the Creator of all aspects of reality, summons us to seek out the goodness in all aspects of existence and join them together into a harmonious whole, into a legion (צבאות) of holiness for His service.

Rav Kook (Orot haMilchamah 3, transl. by Bezalel Naor)

We left world politics by force of circumstance that nevertheless contains an inner volition, until a fortunate time will come, when it will be possible to conduct a nation without wickedness and barbarism – this is the time we hope for. It is understood that in order to achieve this, we must awaken with all of our powers to use all the means that time makes available – all is conducted by the hand of G-d, Creator of all worlds. However, the delay is a necessary one; we were repulsed by the awful sins of conducting a nation in an evil time.

Behold, the time is approaching, the world will be invigorated and we can already prepare ourselves, for it will already be possible for us to conduct our national affairs by principles of good, wisdom, rectitude, and clear divine enlightenment.

Our Sages (Genesis Rabbah 75:4; Deuteronomy Rabbah 1:20) teach that “Jacob sent to Esau the royal purple.” [The royal purple is symbolic of dominion. Jacob’s sending it to Esau is an expression of Judaism temporarily relinquishing political power to the Nations for the duration of the Exile. He declared “Let my master pass before his servant,” that it is not worthwhile to engage in statecraft when it must be full of blood, when it requires an ability for wickedness. We received but the foundation, enough to found a people, but once the trunk was established, we were deposed, strewn among the nations, planted in the depths of the earth, until the time of song arrives and the voice of the turtledove will be heard in our land.

Food for Thought

Rav Eliezer Berkovits (G-d, Man and History, pg. 107, 120): The spirit itself is powerless; it may act only in union with the vital or “material” forces in the cosmos. No one has ever accomplished anything by merely contemplating an idea. All conscious action is the result of some form of cooperation between the mind and the body. Matter whatever its ultimate secret without the mind is inanity; mind without matter is, at best, noble impotence. Power by itself is purposeless; purpose on its own is powerless… What the idealism of numerous religions and philosophies overlooks is that man without a body is as little to be considered human as man without a soul… [M]an is a composite being, consisting of mind and matter, of soul and body. That G-d made him that way means that he has to make sense of his He in the form in which he was granted life. Any rejection of the body is a rejection of man himself of man as G-d created him for the tasks of this world.

Kristen Nunez (6 Ways Being a Workaholic Can Take a Toll on Your Health): In a culture of side hustles and productivity hacks, workaholism is placed on a pedestal. We glorify people who multitask, skimp on sleep and get all the things done. We wear the title of “workaholic” as a badge of honor, like an initiation into a club of hard workers. Top it off with free WiFi around every corner, and workaholism is just a click away. But at what expense? Sure, work is important. Many of us need to work so we can build skills and financially support ourselves and loved ones. Work can also provide an amazing sense of fulfillment, confidence and purpose. Yet, if work is the driving force behind your every move, you might end up with a costly fee: your health…

Throughout your career, it’s normal to experience work-related stress. However, for workaholics, this type of stress becomes the norm. Toss in the mental and physical demands of frequently working, and you’ve got yourself a myriad of negative health effects. In fact, in a 2019 study in the Scandinavian Journal of Psychology, researchers found a clear association between workaholism and poorer quality of life…

[For example] constant stress shakes up your gut health. You can thank the gut-brain axis (GBA), which connects the intestines and brain via the nervous system. The GBA sends signals in both directions; when one is upset, the other one is the first to know. Cortisol plays a role as well. A 2015 article in Annals of Gastroenterology explains that when cortisol acts on the brain, the brain sends signals to the gut. The result is an array of stress-related gut issues like abdominal cramps…

If you feel like you’re treading into workaholic waters, it might be time to dive toward a better work-life balance. This starts with reframing your relationship with work, creating space for other areas of life, defining more reasonable expectations and learning to accept self-care as part of your routine. The lasting impact of a life spent stressing over work is damaging, so taking steps now to correct your approach is in your best interest.

Ma’or Einayim (Parshat Vayeitzei): Ya’akov was complete in all domains of his life because he did everything, even physical matters, in accordance with the Divine will. In all of his activities, his intent was to bring out and manifest a Divine splendor. This is why we find that “Ya’akov travelled to Sukkot” immediately before he arrived ‘intact’ in Shechem. This is an allusion to the holiday of Sukkot, when we leave our permanent dwelling and enter a temporary one. On a deeper level, the mitzvah of Sukkah teaches us that we should not attribute intrinsic value to our worldly affairs, and that we should remember that this world is itself a “temporary dwelling.” The World to Come is of central importance, and so we must strive to connect everything we do in this world to the World to Come.

Questions for Discussion

  1. According to Rav Kook, Ya’akov is emblematic of a harmonious, unified conception of life. Why do you think this is specifically tied to Ya’akov, as opposed to Avraham or Yitzchak?
  2. See the Ma’or Einayim in “Food for Thought” above. Is he saying the same this as Rav Kook, or something slightly different?
  3. How do wealth and possessions serve spiritual purposes? When and why can they be spiritually harmful?
  4. Is it a mitzvah to be healthy?
  5. How should Rav Kook’s teaching in the first piece above be applied on a national level?
  6. Does the first piece from Rav Kook contradict the second one? Is there tension between the two?

Yosef and the Technicolor Tzaddik – Parshat Vayeitzei

Printable PDF available here. Last year’s piece on Vayeitzei is available here.

Rav Kook (Shemonah Kevatzim 2:280)

So she named him Joseph, saying, “May the Lord add for me another son.” (Bereishit 30:24)

Different perceptions of truth are bound to conflict and constrict each other. Every discipline of wisdom (lit. חכמה) feels threatened and encroached upon by others. But this is only when various perspectives of truth are unrefined and not yet understood in their true profundity. Division exists only on the level of expression and manifestation (lit. סגנון), which a function of our finite existence (lit. מצד המקבלים). But on the deepest level of reality, all Truth is unified and indivisible. Every discrete truth – whether in the realm of the Torah, ethics, or worldly wisdom – contributes to the totality of this Truth and strengthens the spiritual energy (lit. השפעה) that flows through all of existence. Thus, to the extent that a person focuses on the outward dimension of wisdom, he will fill threatened by truths that emanate from outside of his field of study. But if he seeks the fundamental essence of Knowledge, he will realize the unification of all disciplines. He will become enriched, not threatened, by other bearers of truth. Every level of reality – inner essence and outward manifestation, holy and profane, pure and impure – will be united in his soul’s inner gaze. They are all sparks in a greater holy flame.

Admittedly, there are few people who merit this level of perception. The spiritual elite, those who focus on inner essence, are few in number (Gemara Sukkah 45b). The vast majority do not advance beyond the outward level of expression in which separation and division reign. But this is appropriate. Our Sages (Gemara Chagigah 10a) apply the verse “Neither was there any peace to him that went out or came in” to one who goes back and forth between halacha and mikra, gemara and mishnah, Talmud Bavli and Talmud Yerushalmi. And all the more so is this true of one who flits between sacred and profane, pure and impure. Most people need to concentrate their focus on one discipline of the larger Truth, and for them, the guiding principle is that “To add is to detract” (lit. כל המוסיף גורע) (Gemara Sanhedrin 29b).

If this analysis seems too abstract, let us consider Yosef haTzadik. Yosef epitomizes the elite spiritual personality who contains within himself the unified reality of all Truth. Yosef was the favored son of Ya’akov, who saw him as his spiritual heir. Ya’akov was “a wholesome man who dwelled in tents [of Torah].” But Ya’akov was neither naïve nor unworldly, as we see in his shrewed response to Lavan’s deviousness. As our Sages teach, Ya’akov could declare to Esav that “I have lived with Lavan and kept all 613 mitzvot” (lit. עם לבן גרתי ותרי׳ג מצוות שמרתי).

Yosef embodied this same integration of seemingly disparate aptitudes.(1) In the face of temptation from Potiphar’s wife, he held fast to the ethical demands of Avraham’s covenant. He was also a man of chesed who oversaw the distribution of food to starving and impoverished masses. He was the ranking advisor of the most powerful empire in the world, a role in which he displayed incredible initiative, vision and administrative talent. According to our Sages (Gemara Sotah 36b), he was unmatched in worldly wisdom, as the angel Gabriel bestowed upon him fluency in all seventy languages. He also displayed graciousness to the brothers who had sold him into slavery, and repaid their cruelty with kindness. Our Sages also teach that he proclaimed his love for Eretz Yisrael even in the pit of imprisonment in Egypt. And even on his deathbed, as the clouds of enslavement were beginning to darken, he expressed his yearning for the eventual redemption – “G-d will surely remember you and take you up out of this land to the land that He swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob… G-d will surely remember you, and you shall take up my bones out of here” (Bereishit 49:24-25).

Can there be a better archetype than Yosef for the personality who integrates all talents and spiritual aptitudes, who joins the worlds of kodesh and chol in one harmonious and integrated whole? This is the path of Yosef, whose gaze is unconstrained by the boundaries within which most others – even tzaddikim – operate. The Torah (Bereishit 49:22) describes Yosef as “עלי עין,” and from here our Sages derive that Yosef’s descendants are עולי עין, that they rise above ayin ha’ra. The select few who follow Yosef’s path rise transcend the realm in which separation and division reign. This is the deeper meaning of Yosef’s name, of Rachel’s declaration “May the Lord add for me another son.” Yosef is the one who seeks to add, to join all levels of truth – Torah and chochmah, holy and profane, pure and impure – into one integrated reality.

(1) In the Hebrew original, Rav Kook refers to Kabbalistic sources that Ya’akov embodies the sefirah of tiferet, which represents a harmonious synthesis between chesed (embodied by Avraham) and din (embodied by Yitzchak). He also refers to the midrash (see Rashi to Bereishit 37:3) that Yosef’s appearance resembled that of Ya’akov.

Food for Thought

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein: There were times at which the balance between talmud Torah and other areas of life needed to be worked out. I remember on one occasion in graduate school I felt that my Torah learning was flagging a bit, and, among all people, I discussed it with my thesis advisor, a non-Jew, Prof. Douglas Bush. He was a wonderful person and a great scholar – probably the top person in English literature when I was at Harvard. I felt a little in distress, perhaps my emphases were being somewhat skewed, and I went to talk to him. I told him, “I think that I know what I am doing and why I am doing it, but I would like to hear it from the master.” I was at Harvard for four years: the first two years, courses; then generals; then dissertation. This was the first semester of my second year, my third semester at Harvard. I said to him, “I think I understand the value of English literature, but I would like to hear it formulated more fully.” I was taking a course in sonnets, and he said, “You know, I ask myself about the legitimacy of investing so much time and effort in literature; I must know some of Dryden’s sonnets better than some of the psalms!” He was a religious person, and he could understand my tension very deeply; that is where we connected. We went on to discuss the need to understand the human spirit, to realize human potential, through the study of the humanities in particular. I thought that experience was extremely valuable, and it helped me overcome my brief crisis.

Hermann Struck:(2) I went up to Jerusalem and visited the Rav. He received me warmly. Apparently, he had heard about my activities in Poland and Russia during World War I, when I served as a special officer for Jewish affairs on the staff of the invading German army. The conversation quickly turned to the topic of art; and I – the professor of art – suddenly saw myself as a student sitting before his master, listening with admiration to his comprehensive knowledge. When the Rav began talking about the place of art in universal culture, I thought to myself, “It is, indeed, fascinating that this great Torah scholar knows about such matters, but that must be part of his broad knowledge of general philosophy,” of which I was already aware. However, when he went on to discuss – effusively – the art of painting, even relating to great and famous painters and their artistic genres, I was completely amazed. When and how did he attain such wide-ranging proficiency and such subtle distinctions in this complex discipline? Suddenly, I realized that this great rabbi sees all; his poetic soul is open to the entire range of artistic expression, and his brilliant grasp encompasses all of its varying approaches. He is also able to define and find precise terminologies to describe its most unique approaches.

During that broad conversation, which lasted much longer than I had expected, the Rav did not lose sight of me. He had a special request of me. He asked me to devote more of my energies to painting the scenery of Eretz Yisrael. “As an artist,” he said, “you have an important mission. You must reveal the beauty, grace, and sanctity of our Holy Land. You must depict historical sites which, when seen, will inspire Jews to love the Land and yearn for its hills and valleys.” The Rav concluded with a blessing: “May the Holy One, Blessed be He, Who bestowed wisdom upon Betzalel and Oholiav for the purpose of building the Mishkan, continue to bestow wisdom upon anyone whose artistic talents are devoted to the Jewish nation and its land.”

(2) Herman Struck (1876-1944) was an outstanding artist in Germany. He was born to an Orthodox family and remained an observant Jew his entire life – an extraordinary rarity for someone with artistic tendencies during this period in Jewish history. Among his students was Marc Chagall.

Rav Soloveitchik (Days of Deliverance): In aristocracy, each family has a coat of arms, an emblem. What was the emblem of Joseph? It was the ketonet passim, of course, the multicolored coat, a coat composed of stripes that his father made for him (Gen. 37:3). When Joseph came to Dothan, the brothers immediately stripped him of the ketonet passim, the banner that Joseph carried (Gen. 37:23). Without the ketonet ha-passim, Joseph’s power dissipated and disappeared. I believe the ketonet ha-passim is the symbol of the Jewish people as well…

Joseph beheld two visions. He dreamt of his alumot, sheaves, which rose and stood up high while the sheaves of his brothers came and bowed down to his. When he told that dream to his brothers, they were not envious of that dream. True, their hatred was deepened and strengthened, but their envy was not aroused. Then he dreamt another dream. He dreamt of the sun and the moon and the stars bowing to him. When he told this dream to his father… his brethren envied him” (Gen. 37:11) – not only did they hate him, but they were envious of him as well… The prima facie interpretation is that Joseph had two visions. One was of material economic power, of prosperity and opulence, and that vision came true one hundred percent. The other dream apparently revolved around spiritual greatness, heavenly sweep and heavenly grandeur. Joseph wanted to be powerful in a political sense, to attain wealth and prosperity, to be respected by people because of his power, feared by people because of his might; but he also wanted to be great spiritually, to be loved by people, to be revered by people because of the greatness of his wisdom and his kindness.

Can one person combine both qualities? Can one person fulfill both dreams, the dream of the sheaves—of economic and military power—and also the dream of spiritual greatness, of moral heights and communion with G-d? Joseph, as an executive, paid attention to the hard facts of life; he organized the storage of the food during the seven years of prosperity. He divided and then removed the peasants from their land. Could he at the same time be a dreamer, a visionary, and a spiritual leader loved by people? Apparently, Joseph thought that he could combine both. This is the meaning of the ketonet ha-passim—multicolored, not monochromatic, not one monotonous color. If there are many colors, there are many contradictions. Colors clash with one another, and Joseph was the synthesis of alumot and the heavenly bodies.

The Jews throughout history have imitated Joseph. We also have two visions. The Jew is a good merchant and he is skillful in trade. Jews dreamt of sheaves, otherwise they could not have survived. At the same time the Jew—the small merchant, the grocer, the peddler—would come home for the Sabbath. I knew such people in my childhood. The same Jew, sometimes in rags, had another dream—not of alumot, not of dollars and cents, of rubles and kopeks, but of something else, of a “sun, a moon, and eleven stars” (Gen. 37:9) of spiritual greatness. He was a great spiritual personality.

Questions for Discussion

  1. How is Rav Soloveitchik’s understanding of Yosef (excerpted above) the same as Rav Kook’s? How is it different?
  2. According to Rav Kook, both Yosef and Ya’akov excelled at integrating different talents. What else do they have in common?
  3. Are there any dangers to the spiritual path of Yosef, as articulated by Rav Kook?
  4. Who have you met (or read about) that expresses the path of integration/harmony which Rav Kook sees represented by Yosef?
  5. What is the proper role of chochmah and worldly knowledge in Torah life and avodat Hashem?

Yitzchak and Rivka, Power Couple – Parshat Toldot

Printable PDF available here. Last year’s piece on Toldot is available here.

Rav Kook (Based on Shemonah Kevatzim, 6:195)

And Isaac was forty years old when he took Rebecca the daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Padan Aram, the sister of Laban the Aramean, to himself for a wife. (Bereishit 25:20)

And Isaac again dug the wells of water which they had dug in the days of his father, Abraham, and the Philistines had stopped them up after Abraham’s death; and he gave them names like the names his father gave them. (Bereishit 26:18)

The great light of Divine chesed is destined to manifest itself over all creations, all beings and all worlds. There may be impediments to this lofty endpoint of history, but all blockages will eventually be removed and negated, eliminated and forcefully abolished. The spiritual power that clears away these blockages is represented by Yitzchak, who represents the force of gevurah – often translated as “strictness,” “judgement” or “restriction.”

However, the forceful nature of Yitzchak’s gevurah is not a contradiction to Avraham’s chesed. In actuality, the inner essence of Yitzchak’s supernal gevurah is chesed itself. Avraham introduced an elevated way of living, a new moral code and vocabulary to a world that spoke only the language of paganism and immorality. He won many followers, but also skeptics, enemies and scorners. Yitzchak is the power that removes these defiling influences so that vigor of his father’s vision can shine forth in all of its splendor.

However, the force of Yitzchak’s gevurah-conviction is too rigid and overwhelming to be implemented outright in practice. It must be joined by another spiritual force, one that is also full of strength and vitality, one that also meets opposition with an iron will and unbreakable resolve, but which has been purified and softened to make it reconcilable with an imperfect reality that does not immediately and always live up to the highest ideals. Yitzchak found this spiritual force in Rivka, an Aramean girl raised in a wicked and idolatrous family who emerged to embody the chesed worthy of a matriarch of Avraham’s household.  Having grown up in such a home, Rivka understood better than Yitzchak the temptations of paganism and immorality. She was thus more suited to navigate the practical challenges of implementing Avraham’s vision. We should also note that despite the ugliness of Betuel and Lavan’s sinful character, the sheer force and energy of their determination to sin represented a powerful force, one that Rivka, by virtue of her teshuva, was able to refine and co-opt to serve the cause of holiness.

Rivka thus represents an alliance between the spiritual potentialities of chesed and gevurah, one which has chesed at its very essence – but in a way that the world can bear. Yitzchak’s uncompromising vision could not be implemented without a Rivka at his side. It is upon such illustrious foundations that the House of Israel was destined to be built, to fulfill its destiny of eliminating every blockage in the way of bringing the Divine light into every nook and cranny of worldly existence. “And the house of Jacob shall be fire and the house of Joseph a flame, and the house of Esau shall become stubble, and they shall ignite them and consume them, and the house of Esau shall have no survivors, for the Lord has spoken… And saviors shall ascend Mt. Zion to judge the mountain of Esau, and the Lord shall have the kingdom.”

Food for Thought

Rabbi Ari Kahn (Echoes of Eden): Perhaps Yitzhak is searching for a reason — any reason — to love his son. This is not at all like the unconditional love Rivkah has for her son Yaakov. Yet Yitzhak is unwilling to give up on Esav, even though he pales in comparison to Yaakov. Yitzhak finds a task Esav is capable of, even well-suited to: Esav is the hunter. When Yitzhak gets older and wishes to bless his son, again he looks for Esav’s positive attributes and asks him to bring him food. Yaakov, dressed as Esav, enters his room. The Torah tells us that at this point Yitzhak was blind. Rashi explains that this was due to the tears of the angels who cried during the akeidah. Yitzhak takes a moment to enjoy the aroma of the meal, of the goats his son has brought him. Rashi questions this particular pleasure, noting that few odors are as unsavory as the stench of goats. What did Yitzhak smell? Rashi’s answer is surprising: it is the aroma of paradise, the scent of Gan Eden.… Two of Yitzhak’s senses, then, were affected by the singular experience of the akeidah. After being raised up on the altar, Yitzhak’s sight is forever altered. But what is the nature of Yitzhak’s perception, and what is the extent of his vision? Is he somehow damaged? Is he naive regarding his son’s shortcomings, seeing less than we do – or does he perhaps see much more?

Yitzhak clearly sees differently: he sees through the prism of his akeidah experience, an experience that took him directly to Gan Eden. Eden is a place deep in the past of our collective conscience. It is also a place in the future. It represents a world perfected, and it represents a perfect world. This is how Yitzhak saw: not through the jaundiced eye that most people use as a spectrum, which diffuses the good and focuses on the bad. Yitzhak saw the world from the perspective of the Garden of Eden. He saw perfection. He saw the culmination of history, the realization of the process of the process of redemption, the return to the perfected state of Eden. He saw the future.

Yitzhak’s entire being is intertwined with this perspective, this type of sight or perception that focuses on the future.” Even his name, which represents the essence of his being, means “will laugh” — in the future. This is the real meaning of the midrashim that tell us that Yitzhak went from the akeidah to Gan Eden: his eyes were “fixed” at the akeidah, his perception altered. Now he had perfect vision. Now he saw a perfect world. He saw the world from the vantage point of Eden.

Gemara Shabbat (89b): What is the meaning of that which is written: “For You are our Father; for Abraham knows us not, and Israel does not acknowledge us; You, Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer, everlasting is Your name” (Isaiah 63:16). In the future that will surely come, the Holy One, Blessed be He, will say to Abraham: Your children have sinned against Me. Abraham will say before Him: Master of the Universe, if so, let them be eradicated to sanctify Your name. G-d said: I will say it to Jacob. Since he experienced the pain of raising children, perhaps he will ask for mercy on their behalf. He said to Jacob: Your children have sinned. Jacob said before Him: Master of the Universe, if so, let them be eradicated to sanctify Your name. The Holy One, Blessed be He, said: There is no reason in elders and no wisdom in youth. Neither Abraham nor Jacob knew how to respond properly. He said to Isaac: Your children have sinned against Me. Isaac said before Him: Master of the Universe, are they my children and not Your children? At Sinai, when they accorded precedence to “We will do” over “We will listen” before You, didn’t You call them, “My son, My firstborn son Israel” (Exodus 4:22)? Now that they have sinned, are they my children and not Your children?

And furthermore, how much did they actually sin? How long is a person’s life? Seventy years. Subtract the first twenty years of his life. One is not punished for sins committed then, as in heavenly matters, a person is only punished from age twenty. Fifty years remain for them. Subtract twenty-five years of nights, and twenty-five years remain for them. Subtract twelve and a half years during which one prays and eats and uses the bathroom, and twelve and a half years remain for them. If You can endure them all and forgive the sins committed during those years, excellent. And if not, half of the sins are upon me to bear and half upon You. And if You say that all of them, the sins of all twelve and a half years that remain, are upon me, I sacrificed my soul before You and You should forgive them due to my merit. The Jewish people began to say to Isaac: You are our father. Only Isaac defended the Jewish people as a father would and displayed compassion toward his children…

Rav Moshe Weinberger (Song of Teshuva, Vol. 2, pg. 266, 267): A person may have had a will for sin so strong that, although he knew that what he was doing was wrong, it overwhelmed him and broke all of the laws of morality and faith. If he wanted something, he would not allow anything to stop him. With the sheer force and energy of his determination to sin, he broke all of the boundaries of ethics and faith. There was not one decent thing that he did not attack. There was not one moral ideal that was not subject to the violence of his will… The initial stages of teshuvah involve remorse, which is very important. That is the world of holiness. At that point, a person cuts everything away. But oftentimes this leaves him cold, lifeless, sterile and empty. He does the right things but not with the delight that he did wrong things. Such a person does not feel like davening, performing mitzvos, learning Torah, talking to his children. Twenty years ago, he was on fire. When he was engaged in sins, he brought his will and desires into actuality in the physical realm. Yet now he lacks the spark of life. Often a baal teshuvah reaches this point after a number of years have passed. When he first came to Yiddishkeit, it was exciting and delightful. But over the years, as he descends into ordinary, everyday life – going every day to shul, getting on line to buy kugel — he no longer has that feeling. He accepted Torah because it gave him a spiritual lift. There was meaning to it and it made him feel good. But now he looks at himself and says, “What happened to me? I’m just like everyone else. Just as my neighbor doesn’t care, I don’t care.” Then he begins to think that he experienced more delight when he was in college or in the Far East. He had more pleasure talking to his girlfriend than he has talking to his wife. He had more pleasure talking to someone in the Himalayas than he has talking to G-d.

Rav Soloveitchik (Darosh Darash Yosef, pg. 64-65): And Isaac dwelt in Gerar. The Torah envelops Isaac, a cryptic figure, in an aura of mystery. It does not reveal much of his personality except for two episodes: his brief stay in the land of Gerar and his role in the confrontation between Jacob and Esau in their competition for his blessing. The Torah assigned three parshiyos to Abraham and many more to Jacob, but only one to Isaac. Why is this so? The kabbalists provide the answer. Each of the patriarchs personified one of G-d’s own attributes. Abraham epitomized chesed, and Isaac was the quintessence of gevurah. When a person practices chesed, lovingkindness, he lets others share in his actions and in his existence, leading to communication and dialogue. Gevurah on the other hand connotes retreat or withdrawal into ones’ private world. Thus, Isaac is wrapped in a mantle of mystery. Isaac’s nature was to be hidden and to defy description. Such a hidden personality is more difficult to fathom and appreciate. Isaac was a monastic figure, separated from society.

Questions for Discussion

  1. Rav Kook claims that Rivka was more capable than Yitzchak at dealing with certain practical realities of the world. Where in the parshah do we see this borne out?
  2. What does Rivka have in common with Yitzchak? With Avraham? With Sarah?
  3. How does G-d want us to properly manifest gevurah in our own lives?
  4. Where do you think Yitzchak got his uncompromising “gevurah-conviction” from? Was he just born that way, or did something happen to him that made him that way? If the latter, what was it?
  5. Rav Kook claims that the essence of Yitzchak’s gevurah is Avraham’s chesed. Where in the parshah might this be expressed? (See Rabbi Ari Kahn above in “Food for Thought” for an incredible explanation, and also the gemara in Masesches Shabbos.)
  6. Why is Rivka chosen as Yitzchak’s wife?
  7. Rav Kook concludes his piece with pasukim about Israel eventually conquering and destroying Esav. How should we understand that in light of Rav Kook’s insights about the purpose of chesed and gevurah?

Avraham and Aaron Joining Hands – Parshat Chayei Sarah

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Food for Thought

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Questions for Discussion

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

Salt of Sodom – Parshat Vayeira

Printable PDF available here. Previous year’s pieces on Parshat Vayeira can be found here and here.

Rav Kook (Ein Ayah, Berachot 6)

 “Sulfur and salt have burned up its entire land. It cannot be sown, nor can it grow anything, not even any grass will sprout upon it, like the overturning of Sodom, Gemorrah, Admah and Zeboiim, which the Lord overturned in His fury and in His rage.” (Devarim 29:22)

Mayim achronim (washing one’s hands after a meal) is obligatory because of Sodomite salt, which [gets on a person’s hands while eating] and can harm a person’s eyes. (Gemara Chullin 105b)

The gemara in Chullin gives a seemingly prosaic reason for mayim achronim – nothing more than making sure salt from the meal doesn’t get in your eyes. However, there are always deeper layers of meaning for us to uncover in the Torah. What is the spiritual message of mayim achronim? And why do Chazal say specifically that the concern is salt of Sodom(lit. מלח סדומית)? Salt hurts your eyes no matter where it comes from. And besides, there are many places proximate to Israel where salt is supplied from. Finally, as already noted by the Rishonim, the Sages give an entirely different explanation of mayim achronim in Gemara Berachot (22a), where it is derived from the verse “and you shall be holy” (Vayikra 11:44). That makes mayim achronim sound like it has some intrinsic spiritual value, as opposed to just being a matter of health or hygiene.

To answer these questions, we have to understand that the concern for getting salt in our eyes is about much more than just health or hygience. There is a deep ethical message as well, one that explains why our Sages were specifically concerned about “salt of Sodom.” As is clear from this week’s parshah, Sodom was not a pleasant place and its citizens had a penchant for violence and abuse of strangers. However, the book of Yechezkel (16:49) gives a very different diagnosis of why Sodom was destroyed – “Behold this was the iniquity of Sodom your sister – pride, abundance of bread, and careless ease were hers and her daughters’, and she did not strengthen the hand of the poor and needy.” Yechezkel castigates Sodom for its heartless abandonment of charity, for the way its residents greedily amassed wealth and turned a blind eye to those in need. Sodom was drunk on its wealth and the thirst for more, and so it lost its moral compass – the most basic indicator of which is the practice of chesed and compassion for fellow human beings.

Whenever one is involved in any physical pleasure, he risks blunting his spiritual sensitivity and losing – to some degree – his attunement to the needs of others. And this is certainly true of eating. For this reason, our Sages established a spiritual framework for mealtime, which is bookended by mayim rishonim at the beginning and mayim achronim at the end. Mayim rishonim is a sort of preventative medicine (lit. תרופה קודמת) to the self-centeredness of the act of eating. It is modeled after the practice of the Kohanim sanctifying their hands before performing service in the Temple. It is an advance reminder to be ‘on guard’ against the dangers of raw, unrefined desire, and of the imperative to bring the sanctity of the Temple into our physical lives.

However, even with the most potent of reminders, it is difficult for anyone to go through a meal without some degree of self-centeredness, without losing some level of focus on the needs of others. Our Sages thus established mayim achronim as well. It reminds us to cleanse ourselves of the “salt of Sodom,” which refers not only to actual salt, but also the poisonous and warped values that Sodom espoused. We come away from the meal with “clean hands,” ready to act in the world in a holy way and be conscious of the needs of others, without our eyes being “blinded” by the noxious ideology of Sodom.

We can now explain why our Sages derive an additional source for mayim achronim from the verse “and you shall be holy.” Holiness is a difficult and complex concept to articulate, but it comes from being rooted in spiritual values and living with consciousness of G-d. Someone immersed in physical pleasures lives with smallness, with a world that centers around him and his needs. He is always asking “What is in it for me?” But a holy person sees a bigger picture. He realizes that he is bound to every other living being, which, like him, is also a creation of G-d. Chesed and rachamim, compassion for all, pour out from the depths of his very being. But this is simply the positive articulation of the warning to cleanse ourselves from the salt of Sodom.

Thus, far from being a mundane hygenic practice, mayim achronim is an opportunity to recharge our ethical sensitivities, and remind ourselves that true holiness is impossible without love and concern for our fellow human beings.

Food for Thought

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Bereishit 18:23-26): Both in Abraham’s request and in G-d’s reply is the marked stress on בתוך העיר. Abraham does not say בעיר but בתוך העיר , the answer even runs בסדום בתוך העיר…. The idea of a righteous man in the midst of Sodomite depravity which Abraham visualizes, for whose sake the city might be saved, is not one who keeps to his own four walls, in haughty pride of his own superiority gives up the masses and just looks on at their ruinous moral lapses, who thinks he has done quite enough if he saves himself and at most his own household. Yea, such a one Abraham would not class as righteous, he would not consider that he had at all fulfilled the duty which lies on man in bad surroundings. The ruin of the masses whom he had long given up, would leave such a man cold, he might even possibly feel a certain smug satisfaction in it.

Rav Soloveitchik (Festival of Freedom, pg. 21): Man has the choice to eat either in hiding, alone, like the beast in its lair, or in community, before the Lord. When eating rises to a great service, to an experience of G-d found and held not by reason but by feeling the discomfort and embarrassment of those who have not and inviting them to join those who have, a new community is born, a community which consists of master, mistress, servant, and pauper. The birth of this community hallows the meal and endows it with sanctity. There is no division into host and guest, into master and servant, into giver and recipient, into a generous philanthropist and an embarrassed individual who is in need. There is a strange halakhic institution, the zimmun, through which Birkat ha-Mazon assumes a new dimension. Saying Birkat ha-Mazon with a zimmun, if truly understood and implemented, represents a communal recitation of the blessings: one person says them aloud, and the rest of the company listens quietly and answers “Amen.” (Such is the ideal practice of zimmun, although we do not implement it in this fashion today; see Mishnah Berurah 183.27.) The idea which this halakhah tries to translate into a ceremonial is that of a community formed by the act of eating. The se’udah is designed not only to satisfy man’s physical needs, but also to take him out of his sheltered seclusion and loneliness and let him join the thou. Eating becomes a cohesive force bringing together people who were shut up in their own small worlds and coalescing them into a community. The Halakhah is aware of the fact that a meal partaken together unites people, fosters friendship, and fashions a company of eaters that may, in the long run, become a community of G-d-seekers and the G-d-committed.

Homeless shelters are dividing Jews on NY’s Upper West Side (JTA, August 2020): The conversion of three hotels on the Upper West Side into temporary homeless shelters has divided the local Jewish community. Rabbis and other area residents are lining up on both sides of a heated debate over the relocation of some 700 homeless individuals, which critics say has brought drug use, crime and vagrancy to the relatively affluent area…. The community response — evident in opposing Facebook groups each with thousands of members, dueling petitions, and countless calls and Zoom meetings with local politicians — touches upon several lightning rod issues, including racism, safety, privilege and the interpretation of the Jewish edict to help the poor. In Upper West Siders for Safer Streets, a private Facebook group that has amassed over 7,000 members over the course of days, local residents have been angrily sharing concerns. “We are for homeless assistance & compassion but we are against registered sex offenders and drug use in our community,” the page description reads… The Facebook group includes numerous photographs of homeless people, largely unmasked, sitting on street corners, injecting drugs and urinating in public… [However] Jewish residents of the Upper West Side have also been mainstays of the counter-effort to support the new homeless residents.

Rav Yuval Cherlow: The prophet’s [i.e. Yechezkel’s] description combined with what the Torah reveals to us gives us the following picture: the people of Sodom insisted on preserving their high quality of living to such an extent they established a principle not to let the poor and homeless reside in their city. Consequently, when a destitute person would come seeking help, they would revoke his right to any welfare – public or private! By doing this they figured they would preserve an elite upper-class community who would monopolize the profits that the bountiful land offers without having to distribute any revenues to a “lower class” of people. An opinion in the Mishna in Avot 5:10 further strengthens this picture of moral depravity when it defines the Sodomite as one who says, “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours.” The Mishna decries a man who wishes to remove himself from the social responsibility of welfare by closing himself and his wealth from others, even if he makes the claim that he is not taking away from anyone else.

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Horeb, pg. 159): [The requirement of male and female for reproduction of species ensures] that no creature in the world of creation could in its selfishness form a closed circle. Instead, a great order of give and take thus embraced all beings with love and engendered life—life which is naught but receiving and nurturing that which has been received for the further gift of life to others; life which is also giving and by that giving receiving the consummation of self in one’s fulfilment of the duty of creating.

Questions for Discussion

  1. Read the excerpt from the newspaper article above in “Food for Thought.” Who is right? How should Rav Kook’s teachings – and Torah values in general – be applied to this situation?
  2. Where else does salt figure in the story of Sodom in this week’s parshah?
  3. If Avraham was the paradigmatic ‘man of chesed,’ how could he pray to G-d for Sodom to be preserved?
  4. How does Yechezkel’s description of Sodom’s sin fit with the one provided by the Torah? How can they be reconciled? (See Rav Yuval Cherlow in “Food for Thought” above if you are stumped.)
  5. It seems like non-Jews are not commanded to give tzedakah. So how could Sodom be punished?
  6. What other practices did our Sages institute to give a spiritual character to the act of consuming food?
  7. Where in the parsha do we see Avraham acting as the polar opposite of Sodom?

Perfectly Imperfect – Parshat Lech l’Chah

Printable PDF available here. Previous post on Lech l’Chah can be found here and here.

Rav Kook (Olat Re’iah)

And Avram was ninety-nine years old, and G-d appeared to Avram and said to him “I am El-Shaddai; walk before Me and be perfect. And I will place My covenant between Me and between you, and I will multiply you very greatly.” (Bereishit 17:1-2)

What is the meaning of this enigmatic name “El Shaddai”? What exactly does it have to with circumcision, and what can it teach us about our spiritual lives? To answer these questions, we need to step back and address a fundamental issue about the nature of G-d and His relationship with the world. G-d is infinite and transcendent. The created world, no matter how grand or splendorous it seems, will never be able to contain the full degree of Divine majesty. Conversely, any perception of G-d that emerges from the created world is fragmentary and incomplete. This clarifies the spiritual purpose of miracles, when the ‘laws’ of nature are temporarily suspended in order to lift our gaze beyond the narrow confines of earthly existence, and thus remind us of the transcendent Divine reality.

The same dynamic is at work in the covenant of circumcision. The removal of the foreskin expresses the idea that man, like the physical reality in which he lives, cannot unreservedly approach G-d ‘as is,’ under a pretense of perfection and completeness. Ironically, by demonstrating our own incompleteness through brit milah, we make ourselves into a vessel for G-d’s transcendent completeness. We educate ourselves – and the world – that to truly know G-d, we must first admit that our knowledge of Him is imperfect.

These profound truths are encapsulated in G-d’s declaration “I am El Shaddai.” Our Sages taught that means “I am the One whose G-dliness cannot be contained by the world and its fulness” (lit. אני הוא שאין העולם ומלואו כדי לאלוקותי).

Rav Kook (Orot Ha’kodesh II, Pg. 531)

We say that absolute perfection is essential to existence, when nothing will remain in potential but everything will be actualized. However, there is a perfection that consists of the process of increasing perfection.

But that cannot possibly apply to Divinity itself, since G-d’s infinite and absolute perfection allows no room for improvement. To this end – that the process of increasing perfection should not be lacking in existence – a universe must come into being that, in accordance with the goal of increasing perfection, begins from the lowest level. That is to say, it begins from a state of absolute deficiency. And it proceeds by constantly ascending to the absolute height.

Food for Thought

Rav Moshe Weinberger (Song of Teshuva Vol. 4): People generally say that G-d’s objective in creating this world was to have everything completely actualized, in a state of absolute perfection. But Rav Kook states that this is wrong. The highest perfection is the desire to perfect oneself. That, not a static perfection, is the purpose of Creation. The process of gaining perfection is in a certain respect higher than absolute perfection. Had Hashem not created the world with the opportunity for growth, that would have constituted an imperfection. It is precisely because G-d is perfect that He created imperfections. Only an imperfect world can perfect itself – in a constant state of growth and movement. Only because of constant feeling that he is lacking something that he must attain does man have the opportunity to work on himself. By analogy, a true teacher gives each student the ability to be creative and grow. The fact that Hashem made an imperfect world, the fact that He created us with problems and deficiencies that we have to struggle with throughout our lives, is itself an aspect of His perfection. G-d created an imperfect world that reaches toward perfection. That process is in a way greater than perfection itself. All of life is an ongoing process of reaching for these lights, which are always a step beyond us.

Man longs desperately for the unparalleled pleasure that comes with perfecting himself, with rising from one level to another… And so learning Torah gives us the greatest delight, because just as G-d is without end, so is Torah infinite, and as we learn it, we move from smallness to greatness. The happiest day of the year is Simchas Torah. When we finish the Torah, we dance. But we are much more excited about starting over again, this time on a higher level.

Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, in Likutei Moharan (Vol. I, 64) explains that because we are created in G-d’s image, all of our traits and abilities come from the point of Divinity within us. The fact that G-d created and destroyed worlds makes it possible for us to create, experiment, reconsider, and perfect. “Just as Hashem is compassionate, so should you be compassionate” (Sofrim 3:17). Similarly, just as G-d made things, destroyed them, and started again, so too, do we have the capacity to be creative, reconsider, and start over again. Our Sages tell us that the tzaddikim have no tranquility in this world or the next, for they never stop moving even in the world of souls, but keep rising “from strength to strength.” There is always room to improve. There is always a higher level. There is always something beyond a person’s immediate grasp…

Nothing in the world is supposed to remain the way it is. Even a rock was not created to stay as it was made. From the beginning of time, everything is in a constant state of development and perfection, of opening up and rising, spinning towards the final perfection of all worlds, which will be revealed in the future redemption.

Animal Rights Trump Religious Rights (Robert J. Delahunty, 2014): In their contempt for Jewish and Muslim religious practices [of circumcision and ritual slaughter], our contemporary secular liberals are reviving the attitudes of Europe’s pagan, pre-Christian past. The Jews of classical antiquity were chiefly distinguishable, in the eyes of the dominant pagans, by three characteristics: male circumcision; dietary restrictions (especially their refusal to eat pork); and Sabbath observance. Pagan writers ridiculed all three Jewish customs, which of course served to identify the Jews as a people apart. Greeks and Romans regarded circumcision as a physical deformity, and therefore Jews (like those with various other deformities) were banned from the Olympic Games.

Leonard Cohen: Ring the bells (ring the bells) that still can ring/Forget your perfect offering/There is a crack in everything (there is a crack in everything)/ That’s how the light gets in.

The Sacred Rite of Circumcision (Tablet Magazine, 2012): The uproar over circumcision barely conceals a revulsion at the concept of the sacred in all its forms. The German court replaces the Jewish and Christian belief in sanctity of human life and the human body with a perverse concept of rights deriving from bodily proprietorship. In this brave new world, it is legal to bring your grandmother to a Zurich hospital to be euthanized but criminal to bring a newborn boy to be circumcised. It is doubly perverse because the West first learned of human rights, and the rights of newborns in particular, from the Jews. Banish the source of these rights and the notion of rights will eventually turn into a twisted mockery…

But something deeper, and uglier, is at work. The proponents of a ban argue for the right to self-determination—bodily and otherwise. It is perfectly consistent to permit euthanasia, provided that it is voluntary, while banning infant circumcision. The body, in this view, is the property of its owner, who has the right to dispose of it at whim. This argument seems reasonable at first blush, but it crumples with a slight shove… Inalienable rights, as the Declaration of Independence insists, derive from an eternal G-d. The absolute right to live – for the retarded and senile and the newborn as well as the strong and healthy- rests on the mortal human’s share in something eternal. That is the premise of the sacred: The human body whose “physical integrity” so concerns [European courts]… is flawed from the outset, because it will die.

To say that life is sacred means in plain English that our lives belong not to us, but to G-d, so that it is not within our purview to stifle newborns or expose our senile grandmothers. We make something sacred by giving it to G-d and receiving it back from him, as Abraham gave and received his son Isaac. Circumcision of Jewish infants reenacts Abraham’s sacrifice: The infant boy is given to G-d and enters into covenant with G-d, by which we affirm the sanctity of his life. That is the origin of the sanctity of life in human history. The Jewish people have upheld it for nearly 4,000 years…

G-d’s love for Abraham extends to his descendants, and circumcision denotes the transformation of Jewish flesh to a holy vessel for G-d’s presence in the world…. It is sad and empty to think of a human being simply as a lump of flesh seeking pleasure (“sexual self-determination”) and avoiding pain (e.g., through euthanasia) at the behest of its owner. Erase the line between what is sacred and what is merely utilitarian, and there is nothing in principle to prevent us from subjecting “low-value” life to the cost-benefit analysis of the killers [i.e. euthanasia].

Rabbi Jonathan Grossman (Abram to Abraham: A Literary Analysis of the Abraham Narrative): Diverse definitions were offered for the name “El Shaddai.” Most medieval commentators viewed the word Shaddai as an adjective, while most modern biblical scholars see it as a proper noun. The book of Job includes the majority of appearances of the name (31 of 48 in the Bible, not preceded by the name “El”), [and t]he Septuagint translated all [of them] as “the Powerful G-d.”… Alternative name suggestions include deriving Shaddai from שדה (field); linking the term with שדיים (breasts) as a symbol of breastfeeding and abundance; and connecting Shaddai with the Akkadian sadu(mountain)… All appearances of the combination “El Shaddai” in Genesis are linked with the blessing of fertility, supporting the position that connects Shaddai with fertility. Based on this connection an internal link might exist between the revelation of G-d’s new name and the new name given to Avram, which is related to the blessing of fertility bestowed on Abram.

Questions for Discussion

  1. There are two pieces from Rav Kook translated above. Do they give the same explanation for why the created world is necessarily imperfect? If they are different, how so?
  2. What can go wrong when people feel they’re able to approach G-d ‘as is’?
  3. Do you agree with the author of the article in Tablet Magazine that “The [contemporary] uproar over circumcision barely conceals a revulsion at the concept of the sacred in all its forms”? Why or why not?
  4. Where else does the name El Shaddai come up in Bereishit? How are those contexts connected to brit milah?
  5. Rav Moshe Weinberger, commenting on Rav Kook, notes that “Only because of constant feeling that he is lacking something that he must attain does man have the opportunity to work on himself.” How can we cultivate this sense of lacking and avoid becoming complacent in our religious lives?