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Refracting the Divine Light – Parshat Noach

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

Based on Rav Kook (Olat Re’iah)

“And G-d said: “This is the sign of the covenant, which I am placing between Me and between you, and between every living soul that is with you, for everlasting generations. My rainbow I have placed in the cloud, and it shall be for a sign of a covenant between Myself and the earth. And it shall come to pass, when I cause clouds to come upon the earth, that the rainbow will appear in the cloud. And I will remember My covenant, which is between Me and between you and between every living creature among all flesh, and the water will no longer become a flood to destroy all flesh. And the rainbow shall be in the cloud, and I will see it, to remember the everlasting covenant between G-d and between every living creature…” (Bereishit 9:12-16)

Generations of commentators have pondered the message of the rainbow in the wake of the Flood. How exactly does the rainbow express G-d’s covenant not to destroy the world? What is the meaning of its symbolism? Many answers have been offered, but the Torah always contains additional layers of meaning for us to uncover.  Let us note that the covenant is not described as the mere appearance of a rainbow. G-d declares that the rainbow will appear when He “cause[s] clouds to come upon the earth,” and “in the cloud.” As if this wasn’t enough, the last verse excerpted above mentions clouds a third time, declaring that “the rainbow shall be in the cloud.” Clearly, the clouds are an integral part of the rainbow’s symbolism.

To understand why, some basic science is in order. We perceive sunlight as white, but it really contains many different colors of lights that mix together. When sunlight shines through raindrops at a particular angle, it gets separated into its component colors. Those raindrops come from clouds, and so – generally speaking – rainbows don’t form without clouds.

Put simply, a rainbow is pure light refracted and divided into a multitude of hues and colors. This is a precise expression of the way that humanity’s spiritual task changed in the wake of the Flood. Prior to the Flood, the world was illuminated with a pure, undifferentiated Divine light. Serving G-d did not make specific demands of a person’s inner, emotional world, nor did it provide a framework for ethical conduct and behavior. It wasn’t that G-d considered these to be unimportant. Rather, He expected that man could achieve them on his own and didn’t need Divine guidance. The hope was that proper conduct and a refined inner world would emerge organically, from man’s total intellectual clarity and perception of Divine truth, from the pure Light that permeated every corner of existence.

But it was not to be. “And G-d saw the earth, and behold it had become corrupted, for all flesh had corrupted its way on the earth.” The pure Divine Light was too blinding for humanity to chart its path. The challenges and temptations of earthly reality were too great. Humanity stumbled and demonstrated that it was unable to attain ethical and holy conduct on its own. Pure intellectual awareness of G-d was insufficient. Even though people knew with clarity what G-d wanted of them, they simply could not implement it in practice.

Thus, in the wake of the Flood, G-d shifted to a new model for advancing humanity’s spiritual development. Instead of being pure and undifferentiated, the Divine Light would be refracted into a detailed spectrum of laws and rules. The realm of practical conduct and man’s emotional world be addressed, regulated and formed directly, by a Divine system of tamei and tahor, mutar and assur – a system that we know as Torah. Only through such a framework can humanity achieve the spiritual completeness desired by G-d, and traverse the path upward and onward, thus guaranteeing that G-d never needs to bring another Flood upon the world.

Food for Thought

Rav Joseph Soloveitchik (Abraham’s Journey, pg. 94): How does the rainbow symbolize the covenant between G-d and man that ensures humanity’s survival on earth? The rainbow appears because of the refraction and reflection of the rays of the sun in the droplets of water contained in the clouds. The arc of multicolored light in the midst of a dark cloud symbolizes the luminous endowment of a lowly, obscure, absurd creature like man that reflects the supranatural light emanated by the Creator. G-d stands opposite man, even as the sun is opposite the cloud. He makes man susceptible to the educational gesture and guarantees his eventual rise from a brutish existence to a redeemed life. G-d does not want to exterminate mankind and all the other living creatures, because in spite of his remoteness from G-d, man is capable of redeeming himself through a slow ascent to the Almighty.

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein: With its pervasive psychological realism, Halakhah has recognized that ordinary mortals need to be jogged out of their spiritual lethargy, and that unless they are prodded to specific action, many will be quite content to neglect the religious life completely. Habitual observance ingrains moral and religious sensibility into the very fiber of the personality. It strengthens the inner power of spirit and, at a deeper level, human emotion is profoundly affected by the very process of externalization . . . We should keep in mind, however, what we often tend to forget: the most legalistic ritualism is better than no worship whatever; and the individual who, within Halakhah, lapses into a formalistic rut, would very likely be bereft of religious awareness completely were he without it. At the very least, ritual establishes a floor for religion; at most, it leads man to the scaling — and holding — of the loftiest spiritual heights.

Eliezer Berkovits (G-d, Man and History): None of the extant theories of ethics are able to show that ethical obligation has its source in the essence of the good itself. Let us assume, for example, that hedonism is a logically valid theory. What law is there in reason to forbid a person to behave unreasonably and to act contrary to the pleasure principle? Reason may, of course, describe the consequences of such “foolish” action—but what if one does not care about the consequences? Or consider utilitarianism. Let it be granted that the greatest happiness of the greatest number is indeed the essence of goodness. How can it be proved that one ought to care about it, and that one should be morally condemned if one does not? It is not different with intuitive ethics either. Man may have some innate concepts of good and evil; he may even be able to entertain an intuitive appreciation that he ought to act in accordance with the standards of such an inborn ethical code. But since he is capable of disobeying his moral “instinct,” what is there in the intellectual grasp of those intuitive ideas that will obligate him to obey?…

We are thus left with the Socratic and Christian answers to the question of how goodness may be acquired by man. Neither of them, however, is supported by experience. Man may have ample knowledge of the good, yet more often than not he will act against his better insight. Moreover, the conduct in history of nations and societies, of classes and castes, provides us with a record of inhumanity that reduces to irrelevance the most sadistic crimes of individuals. In this respect, there seems to be little difference between ages of greater or lesser enlightenment; except that in times of greater intellectual advancement, as knowledge increases man grows in power proportionately and becomes correspondingly more dangerous. The evil done by the power that knowledge provides has always eclipsed the good done by the same power. Notwithstanding enlightenment, man seems to remain an essentially unethical being.

Prof. Jonathan Grossman (Creation: The Story of Beginnings): Among the various suggestions, one likely explanation is that the shape of the rainbow, its curve from the sky to the ground, represents the connection between heaven and earth, but the most widely accepted interpretation is that of Nahmanides… Nahmanides compares the rainbow to a bow and arrow. Not only does its shape recall the archers’ weapon of war… but it echoes the biblical notion that G-d fights by shooting arrows down from the heavens. Even if this is only true in a figurative sense, the rainbow can still be characterized as G-d’s weapon – turned backward as a symbol of truce.

Moreover, this sense of reconciliation is reflected not only through the bow’s shape, but through its sheath of cloud. The rainbow is never referred to as just a bow; throughout the covenant, it is always associated with clouds: “My bow I have given in the clouds …when I bring clouds over the earth and My bow is seen in the clouds …when the bow is in the clouds” (9:13—16). The cloud is a prevalent biblical symbol of covering and concealment, as in, for example, “The Presence of the Lord dwelled on Mount Sinai, and the cloud hid it for six days” (Ex. 24:16). Compare this to Ezekiel’s prophecy about Pharaoh: “I will cover the sky and darken its stars; I will cover the sun with clouds and the moon shall not give its light” (Ezek. 32:7). The symbol of the covenant is not just an upturned bow; it is a bow covered in cloud, sheathed, concealed, obscured. In the ancient Near East, bows were sometimes broken as rites of peace when forming a treaty, so that the image of a bow sheathed in cloud is an apt symbol of peace and reconciliation.

Questions for Discussion

  1. Do you agree with Rav Kook’s claim that the generations before the Flood had the potential to be on an extremely high spiritual level? Why or why not?
  2. See the quote from Rav Soloveitchik in “Food for Thought” above. How does his analysis fit with Rav Kook’s?
  3. Why do people do things that they know are wrong?
  4. See the quote from Rav Eliezer Berkovits in “Food for Thought” above. What do you think he means by the “Christian answer to the question of how goodness may be acquired by man.”
  5. How do Torah and mitzvot help us develop ethically and create the kind of world that G-d desires?
  6. How can the rainbow symbolize a new Divine covenant if it is a natural phenomenon?

Shining Names, Shining Light – Parshat Bereishit

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Printable PDF available here. Previous year’s pieces are available here and here.

Please help us start off our third year strong by sharing with friends and anyone else you know who is interested in Rav Kook.

Background to the Piece From Rav Kook (Ramban’s Introduction to Bereishit)

We have a kabbalistic tradition that the whole Torah consists of Divine Names. The words of the Torah as we have them are only one way to configure where words start and end. When arranged and separated in a different manner, various Divine Names can be formed. By way of example, the beginning of the Torah can be read as בראש יתברא אלוקים.

It is for this reason that a Torah scroll with a single extra or missing letter is disqualified [even though the literal meaning remains unchanged]… Thus, Moshe received the manner of dividing the Divine Names into the Torah as we know it, but also an oral tradition of how the Torah can be rendered and “recombined” as Divine Names.

Rav Kook (Orot haTorah, 4:2)

The kabbalistic tradition teaches that the entire Torah is comprised of names of G-d. This teaching may seem impenetrable and esoteric, but it has an important corollary with profound ramifications for how we lead our lives.

Every positive midah, every conduct that furthers derech eretz, every teaching of worldly wisdom – all of these are rooted and contained, on some level, within the Torah. And as we know, that same Torah is comprised of Divine Names. It follows that the light of G-d shines wherever one finds an individual or society – Jewish or not – that expresses any good character trait or point of wisdom.

Granted, this is not apparent to everyone. Even the bearers of these points of light may be unaware of the G-dliness that shines within them. But their lack of awareness does not extinguish that light. What matters is not their own awareness, but the extent to which their will is in harmony with the Divine goodness that permeates all of Creation, and within which G-d’s light can be found. In His wisdom and kindness, G-d founded that light as the foundation of all reality, as the spiritual ideal to which the physical world is striving for and which it will eventually manifest in its perfected totality.

We thus see that this kabbalistic tradition is not meant to be theoretical or esoteric at all. It teaches us to seek out and perceive G-dliness in the world around us, not only amongst Jews and certainly not only in the written parchment of a Torah scroll.

Hebrew Original

כָּל הַתּוֹרָה כֻּלָּהּ הִיא שְׁמוֹתָיו שֶׁל הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא , כָּל מִדָּה טוֹבָה וְדֶרֶךְ אֶרֶץ הֲרֵי הוּא בִּכְלַל הַתּוֹרָה, וְכָל חָכְמָה נְעוּצָה בַּתּוֹרָה, וּבְכָל צַד טוֹב שֶׁיֵּשׁ בָּאָדָם אוֹ בְּקִבּוּץ כֵּן שְׁמוֹ שֶׁל הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מֵאִיר בּוֹ, אֶלָּא שֶׁיֵּשׁ הֶבְדֵּל בֵּין הַיּוֹדֵעַ שֶׁהַכֹּל הוּא אוֹר מִתְנוֹצֵץ מִשְּׁמוֹ שֶׁל הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְמִי שֶׁאֵינוֹ יוֹדֵעַ זֶה. אֲבָל הַהֶבְדֵּל שֶׁל חֶסְרוֹן הַיְדִיעָה אֵינוֹ כִּי אִם הֶבְדֵּל דַּרְגָּאִי, וְעַצְמִיּוּת הַדָּבָר תְּלוּיָה בִּפְנִימִיּוּת הַנְּקֻדָּה שֶׁל הָרָצוֹן עַד כַּמָּה הוּא מְאֻמָּת לַצַּד הַטּוֹב, שֶׁרַק בּוֹ שׁוֹרֶה אוֹר צַדִּיקוֹ שֶׁל עוֹלָם, הַמִּתְלַבֵּשׁ בִּיסוֹד כֹּל, בְּחָכְמָה וּבְחֶסֶד , כְּדֵי לְתַמֵּם אֶת הַחִזָּיוֹן הָרוּחָנִי וְהַחִזָּיוֹן הַחָמְרִי שֶׁל הַהֲוָיָה, כְּלוֹמַר הָאִידֵיאָל שֶׁלָּהּ וּמַמָּשׁוּתָהּ הָרֵיאָלִית, וְהָאַחֲרוֹנָה הִיא הַמַּסְקָנָא שֶׁל הָרִאשׁוֹנָה, וְעוֹלָה עַד רֹאשָׁהּ.

Food for Thought

Rav Shimson Raphael Hirsch (Collected Writings Vol. 6, Pg. 130): The more we understand that Judaism reckons with all of man’s endeavors, and the more its declared mission includes the salvation of all mankind, the less can its views be confined to the four cubits of one room or one dwelling. The more the Jew is a Jew, the more universalist will be his views and aspirations, the less alien will he be to anything that is noble and good, true and upright in the arts and sciences, in civilization and culture. The more the Jew is a Jew, the more joyously will he hail everything that will shape human life so as to promote truth, right, peace and refinement among mankind, the more happily will he himself embrace every opportunity to prove his mission as a Jew on new, still untrodden grounds. The more the Jew is a Jew, the more gladly will he give himself to all that is true progress in civilization and culture—provided that in this new circumstance he will not only maintain his Judaism but will be able to bring it to ever more glorious fulfillment. He will always desire progress, but only allied with religion. He will not want to accomplish anything that he cannot accomplish as a Jew; it is not for him. To him, any step that takes him away from Judaism is not progress. And he will exercise this self-restraint without feeling any pain, for what he wishes to accomplish on earth is not his own will. He is in the service of G-d. He knows that if the Ark of the Covenant of his G-d does not go before him, he will also not be accompanied by the pillar of fire that is His light and by the column of clouds that is His grace.

Questions for Discussion

  1. Is the idea that the words of the Torah can be rearranged disturbing? Antinomian?
  2. Why is it hard to encounter G-dliness in the broader world?
  3. Can you think of time that you encountered a positive midah or teaching of worldly wisdom where you felt you encountered G-d?
  4. What are different ways to encounter G-dliness in the broader world?
  5. Rav Kook claims that “every positive midah, every conduct that furthers derech eretz, every teaching of worldly wisdom” is rooted within the Torah. What do you think this means? Do you agree with it? Why or why not?

Concluding With Life – Parshat V’zot haBeracha

Printable PDF is available here. Last year’s piece on V’Zot haBeracha is available here.

With G-d’s help, I  have completed a second cycle of the Torah sharing Rav Kook’s wisdom to illuminate our lives. I look forward to continuing with you again. A Chag Sameach to all.

Rav Kook (Shemonah Kevatzim, 1:192)

“And he was King in Jeshurun, whenever the sum total of the people were gathered, and the tribes of Israel were together.” (Devarim 33:4)

According to certain commentaries and midrashim, the subject of this verse is Moshe. Moshe’s status as a king is not incidental, but a profound reflection of his immense spiritual stature.

In general, people excel at either the practical realities of life or the abstract world of the spirit. It is rare to find someone who combines both. The religious sensitivity of worldly, practical people usually lacks the sharpness and clarity of those who deal exclusively with spiritual matters. And similarly, those who inhabit the highest spiritual realms tend to lack a clear perception of the world’s practical realities.

For this reason, G-d ordained that the two institutions of prophecy and kingship operate separately. In Tanach, we do not find a prophet wearing the king’s crown, nor the king donning the mantle of the prophet. Although they worked together, like we see most clearly with King David and Shmuel, they still had separate domains of responsibility

The one exception in Jewish history was Moshe Rabbeinu. Our Sages teach that Moshe’s spiritual level was “through a clear lens” (lit. אספקלריא המאירה”). This supernal level of prophecy enabled him to encompass all levels of reality in a harmonious unity. Moshe spoke directly to G-d – but he also listened to the Jews’ complaints, provided them with food, and led them into battle.

Thus, while we all know that Moshe’s prophecy was sui generis, this verse highlights an additional dimension of his greatness – that he was also a king. His feet were planted firmly on the ground at the same time that his soul soared in the highest realms.

Rav Kook (Otzrot ha’Reiah, 2:517)

“And He buried him [Moshe] in the valley, in the land of Moav, opposite Beth Pe’or. And no person knows the place of his burial, unto this day.” (Devarim 34:6)

The concealment of Moshe’s burial place must be understood as an expression of the same Divine ideal behind a number of other Torah laws – namely, the prohibition against Kohanim and Nazirites becoming tamei through contact with death, and the prohibition against bringing any sort of tumah into the Temple. All of these phenomena are intended to teach us that the Torah is a Torah of life (lit. תורת חיים). All of them aim to dispel the misconception that fulfilling the Torah requires us to constrain the full manifestation and unfolding of life. That terrible error can only lead to compartmentalization, to designating a fragmentary portion of human reality as “religious” and abandoning the rest. That is not the Torah way.

Food for Thought

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Commentary to the Torah, Vayikra 21:1): Antique and modem heathenism like so very much to associate religion and religious matters with death and thoughts of death. For them it is where Man ends that the Kingdom of G-d begins. For them death and dying are the real manifestations of their G-dhead, who to them is a G-d of death and not of life. A G-d who kills and does not animate, and sends death and its fore-runners, illness and wretchedness, so that men should fear him, realize his power and their impotence. The places which they dedicate to temples are therefore round about graves, (1) the foremost place of their priest is therefore at the dead and dying. (2) There, where the light is fading from the eye, and hearts are broken, is the most fruitful field for their religious sowing.

Not so is the Jewish priest because not so is the Jewish teaching of G-d, the Jewish religion. The G-d, Whose Name assigns the Jewish priest to his office is a G-d of life. His sublimest manifestation is the elevating power of Life, freeing, animating, raising Man to free will and to eternal life, not the crushing power of death. Not how one is to die, but how one is to live, how, living, one has victoriously to conquer death, death in life, thralldom, enslaved by one’s physical urges, moral weakness, how one has to live every second of a morally free, thinking, desiring, working and accomplishing life, and also enjoying all the pleasures of life as a moment of service to G-d, that is the teaching to which G-d has dedicated His Sanctuary, and for the service of which He has consecrated the Kohanim to care for the “basis of life and direction thereof.”

When Death summons the people to come to busy themselves in acts of love with the empty body of a נפש which G-d has called home, the Kohanim have to remain away, and by standing away to keep aloft the Standard of Life next to the corpse, and by the thoughts of what life really is, prevent the thoughts of death overpowering the truths that the real Man himself is morally free and not subject to forces which kill his power over his own moral free will. Only where the duties of life call on the priest personally to fulfil the last possible acts of love to the empty shell of the נפש of his wife, child, parent, brother or sister, or where the forsaken state of a corpse makes him to a father and brother of the forsaken one, there his calling as a priest has to retire behind the calling of family and humanity, and his activity with the dead is not only permitted but is a duty. Otherwise priests have to keep away from dead bodies.

(1) In Europe, beginning in the Middle Ages, cemeteries were generally constructed around churches.

(2) Rav Hirsch appears to be referring to the Christian practice of a priest administering last rites.

Rav Moshe Weinberger (Song of Teshuva, Vol. 4): [Many] spiritually inclined people… are not comfortable in this world, and… thus do not function well, even in performing mitzvos and good deeds. Although such a person experiences life deeply, he does not succeed in the world of action. He does not know how to apply the poem of his inner reality to the prose of everyday life — how to adjust his feelings and emotions to the outer world…

Because such a person’s practical life is out of sync with his internal life, he experiences a lack of symmetry. His failure to actualize his deep, inner being causes him to experience an unbearable sadness. He feels a gaping wound in his heart, and he does not know what to do about it, because he is not equipped to work things out practically. This person’s soul is naturally inclined towards melancholy. He feels like a stranger in this world, as though he has left his real self behind. He experiences a gap between his spiritual dreams and his present existence.

Such a person usually has the following two characteristics: a strong spiritual inclination, and difficulty in functioning successfully in the practical realities of this world. And his failure to accomplish tasks sharpens his awareness of his inadequacy and thus intensifies his sufferings. Something is missing in his ability to tend enthusiastically and successfully to reality. He does not dress properly and does not take care of his home and possessions. He may have trouble holding onto a job. Although he may have a sense of responsibility for practical life, it is not well-defined. His awareness that he must take care of his family is unclear and does not enter into the necessary details…

Practical people look at him and are shocked. Conversely, when he looks at them he is shocked by what he thinks is their emptiness and thoughtless happiness. But at the same time, when he looks at the contrast between how they are succeeding and he is failing, he falls into despair. His nefesh— the closest part of his spiritual self to his physical being — grows depressed because it sees that he is not coming to terms with his responsibilities. It is bewildered by his failure to dress properly, take care of his family, function at work, and so forth.

A practical person, on the other hand, who is not invested in the depth of his emotions does not suffer from such sadness, because the whole of his life, including Torah and mitzvos, is in greater balance. He does not feel that his inner and outer realities are out of step. Such a person, naturally inclined to practical accomplishment, is successful at work, at managing his home, and so on. He does not feel that he has left his true self behind. He does not feel conflicted by some deeper longing. He is at peace with who he is and with what he does. The disadvantage of being such a person, however, is that when his soul cries out, he often does not hear it.

The person who is strongly connected to the practical world is often characterized by spiritual shallowness. If someone talks to him about matters on the level of the soul, he feels uncomfortable, and he dismisses them as fluff. A passage from a text such as Bilvav’i Mishkan Evneh (a contemporary inspirational series) sounds to him as though it were written in Japanese. He interprets closeness to G-d in terms of fulfilling his responsibilities to daven Mincha and eat kosher. He only likes music, including Jewish music that arouses his body and nefesh.

Typically, such a person is successful at work, with his family, and in his adherence to the Shulchan Aruch. Because his deficiencies exist in the realm of his inner soul and are thus far removed from his immediate reality, he is not aware of them. When he looks at himself, he sees only his strong points, and so he is pleased with himself. As for the other type of person — the individual who has a rich inner spiritual life but is failing in his dealings with the practical world — his deficiencies stand directly before his eyes, and as a result he is sad and worried…

Questions for Discussion

  1. Do you agree with Rav Kook that practical and spiritual excellence don’t usually come together in a single person?
  2. In what way did Moshe function as a “king”?
  3. What might be other reasons why G-d concealed Moshe’s burial place?
  4. Where else in Judaism do we see an emphasis on the value of life?

Returning to Self – Parshat Ha’azinu

Printable PDF available here. Last years’s piece on Ha’azinu is available here.

Rav Kook (Eder haYakar)

For so many years, the Jewish People have stumbled along, groping in the dark for newfound “solutions” on behalf of our people and our Land. But seeking to impersonate the culture of other peoples is a dead end. We should instead work to realize our own uniqueness. We should realize that no other nation in the world is like us, and thus our historical development cannot be propelled by imitating the ways of other nations. The desire to do so indicates a profound lack of self-confidence.

For this reason, it is incumbent on Israel to gird itself with vigor and return to its Source. This does not mean that Israel has nothing to learn from other peoples, but only that their ways cannot be grafted onto us outright. Their individual and collective heritage can only serve as a rough model, an approximation to guide our own unique path.

Therefore, the foundation of our activities and the basis of our vigor must be our own essential Source. To become aware of our uniqueness, it is incumbent on us to honor the uniquely spiritual personalities within our midst, to seek out the men and women whose lives express our particular qualities, to familiarize ourselves with their ways and provide channels for their influence to spread.

“The Lord alone will guide them, and there is no foreign power with Him.” (Devarim 32:12)

Rav Kook (Orot haTeshuva 15:10, as translated in Song of Teshuva Vol. 4)

When a person forgets the nature of his essential soul, when he distracts himself from looking at the core of his inner life, then everything becomes confused and uncertain.

The primary type of teshuvah, which illuminates areas of darkness immediately, consists of an individual returning to himself, to the root of his soul. Then he immediately returns to G-d, to the Soul of all souls. He proceeds and strides forward, ever upward, with holiness and purity. This applies to an individual, to the entire nation, to all of mankind, to the rectification of all existence – whose imperfection is always due to the fact that it forgets itself.

If a person or a collective will say to Hashem that it wants to return to Hashem but it is not prepared to gather in the scattered components of its own being (lit. “its outcasts”) that is a deceitful teshuvah, one that takes the name of Hashem in vain.

Therefore, only with the great truth of the return to oneself do the individual and the nation, the world and all worlds, all existence, return to the Maker of existence, to be illumined by the light of life. That is the secret of the light of Mashiach, who is the appearance of the soul of the world. When that light will shine, the world will return to the root of existence. (1) And light of Hashem will be revealed upon it. And from the source of this great return, a person will draw forth the authentic holy teshuvah.

(1) In Orot haKodesh (Vol. 3, pg. 140), Rav Kook invokes the pasuk in Eichah (4:20) where Mashiach is referred to as “רוח אפינו,” “the breath of of our nostrils.” This conveys the idea that the spiritual power of Mashiach is not something foreign to us, but the inner essence of who we truly are.

Food for Thought (Rav Moshe Weinberger, Song of Teshuva Vol. 4)

A person’s return to G-d is only the second stage of teshuvah. The first stage is his return to himself. Very often, a person is distracted from who he is, and this can occur on different levels. For instance, a person might live in a realm of complete materialism and never think about G-d, his soul, and the purpose of his creation. But even a person living a religious life can be living in a state of distraction from who he is… [T]here can be a person who, although he is committed to Torah in general, does not think about his individual connection to Torah and to G-d. He performs mitzvos, works on his character, performs acts of kindness, davens, guards his tongue, learns Gemara, and has faith in the tzaddikim. He may learn the inner Torah – the teachings of R. Tzadok, Sefas Emes, the Vilna Gaon, and Ramchal. He may read about pious practices and implement those that appeal to him. His service of G-d may consist of thousands upon thousands of wonderful elements. But they remain disparate bits and pieces, lacking an organizing principle. He does not know how to tailor them the depth of who he is — because he does not know the depth of who he is.

Since he is a stranger to his spirit, even the deepest teachings and practices remain on the surface of who he is. They do not change him; after years of effort, he has not reduced his desires, evil inclinations and foolishness that he always had. As a result, everything in his life is confused and uncertain. But when Mashiach comes, each person will hear the Torah speaking directly to his soul.

A person who does not know who he is cannot cling to the Creator of the world. The beginning of teshuva consists of a person gaining an understanding of who he is. As soon as he returns to himself, the dark places within him are illuminated and become a vehicle for G-dliness. It is true that when he first comes back to himself, he may be disappointed and even shocked at the trash that he be finds there. But as he casts that away, he reaches his holiness and purity. In order to come to G-d, a person must pass through progressively deeper layers of who he is — each level, as it were, preceded by a door with his name on it. And then he comes to a door on which is inscribed, “Creator of all worlds, blessed be He.”

From that point on, he is no longer living somebody else’s life but his own. He is no longer engaged in somebody else’s Yiddishkeit but his own. Now he no longer experiences confusion and uncertainty, but focuses instead on his connection to G-d, the Soul of all souls, and he can reach higher and higher levels of holiness and purity… If a person has not forged a connection between himself and the Creator, then his life is false. He may try a new mitzvah project, but he soon loses interest. He may try a variety of ways to serve Hashem, but in a patchwork manner. This is because the initiative is not coming from who he truly is. He is only imitating other Jews.

The root of a person’s Yiddishkeit is the trait of truth. So important is this that in only one instance does the Torah warn a person to distance himself from sin: “Stay far away from falsehood” (Shemos 23:7)…

The Rebbe R. Bunim of Peshischa said (and this is recorded as well in the name of the Kotzker Rebbe) that in addition to not lying to others a person should not lie to himself. Instead, a person must seek the truth of who he is. That may hurt, because he might discover that he does not possess positive qualities that he had thought were his, and he may find ugly traits within himself that he had not heretofore acknowledged.

When a person discovers who he truly is, he can discover G-d, Who is the Soul inside his soul and Who is associated with truth, as in our Sages’ teaching that “the seal of the Holy One, blessed be He, is truth” (Shabbos 55a; Yerushalmi Sanhedrin 64a). This person sees that getting in touch with G-d is not an accomplishment that only tzaddikim such as the Baal Shem Tov, the Chasam Sofer, or the Chofetz Chaim can achieve, but that he himself can do so. And when he meets up with the Soul of all souls, he begins to see everything in his life differently: the Gemara that he is learning, his spouse, his children, his friends, the flowers. Now he is not just talking or thinking about Hashem. Now he knows Hashem. And now he no longer experiences any confusion about what he should or should not do. In addition to that, now that he is in touch he can be in touch with the souls with his own soul, of other Now he can see how good and beautiful every Jew is — as the Yiddish expression, “a sheiner Yid — a beautiful Jew.” He does look down on others. He has no complaints about them. And furthermore, he can see what is hurting them… Sometimes a tzaddik embraces a lowly person, and onlookers think that he is naïve and does not know who this person is. But just the opposite is true. It is exactly because the tzaddik knows who this person is deep down that he is so fond of him…

As a people we do not know ourselves. We have lost our way. We lack self-confidence. Related to that, the Baal Shem Toy taught that forgetfulness characterizes exile and remembering indicates redemption. That is why Israeli politicians are involved in a game of appeasing, appealing, and pretending. They cannot stand up and state the truth. They lack the strength to tell the world, “We do not care what you say.” A person who is in the place of the Soul of all souls does not worry about upsetting some politician or the anti-Semitic architect of some so-called peace plan. He stands up and states the truth….

The only way that a person can meet Hashem… is by recognizing his own life-force. To that end, he must gather in all of the elements his life that have been in exile. Otherwise, he is only imitating the lives of other Jews. And then, although his way of life may seemingly proclaim Hashem’s name, that is a misrepresentation, a subtle violation of the command “Do not take the name of Hashem your G-d in vain.”

Once a person finds himself, G-d is with him wherever he goes. Sometimes a Jew who had a Torah upbringing no longer wants to keep mitzvos. This is not because he has experienced a dramatic change in his faith but rather because he has grown distant from himself. Many people are afraid to look at their inner being. Sometimes this is because a person had a difficult childhood and he is afraid that gazing into himself will cause him too much pain. And sometimes this is because a person’s spouse is not spiritually growing, and so he is afraid that if he re-unites with his soul, his marriage will he challenged.

Questions for Discussion

  1. What movements do you think Rav Kook is criticizing for their “solutions” on behalf of the Jewish people and the Land of Israel?
  2. What do you think Rav Kook means when he talks about Israel returning to its source?
  3. Is it counterintuitive that teshuva involves a return to the self? Why or why not?
  4. Rav Kook talks about national/collective teshuva? What does that mean? How is it different than individual teshuva?
  5. What can a person do to get in touch with who they truly are?
  6. What influences in our contemporary society present a false picture of who we truly are? How can we work against their negative influence?
  7. How does Rav Kook read the pasuk that he cites from Ha’azinu?

Not Being a Team Player – Parshat Nitzavim/Vayeilech

Autarchy: The Balance Between Individual Sovereignty & Collective Cooperation | The Eastwood Angle

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

Rav Kook (Me’orot ha’Reiah, 4:315)

“Perhaps among you there is a man, woman, family, or a tribe, whose heart strays this day from the Lord, our G-d, to go and worship the deities of those nations. Perhaps there is among you a root that produces hemlock and wormwood. And it will be, when he [such a person] hears the words of this oath, that he will bless himself in his heart, saying, “I will have peace, even if I follow my heart’s desires,” in order to add the [punishment for the] unintentional sins [of this man] to that of [his] intentional sins. The Lord will not be willing to forgive him; rather, then, the Lord’s fury and His zeal will fume against that man, and the entire curse written in this book will rest upon him, and the Lord will obliterate his name from beneath the heavens. And the Lord will separate him for evil, out of all the tribes of Israel, according to all the curses of the covenant, written in this Torah scroll.” (Devarim 29:17-18)

The picture Moshe paints here is hard to make sense of. Why would someone – who himself participated in the covenant – give himself license to ignore the Torah? It doesn’t sound like Moshe is talking about a heretic or a non-believer, but rather someone who is sincere (if misguided) in his belief that he is free to transgress the Torah.

To make sense of these verses, we must understand that there are two types of spiritual attainments. One is an intrinsic state of being, without any outward manifestation. The second receives expression in the world of action.

In Israel, the state of intrinsic spiritual perfection unfolds primarily on the collective level. Although every individual Jew possesses a unique Divine soul, early mystical sources teach that all Jews share in and partake of a single collective soul. Only on the physical plane are we discrete and separate from each other. For this reason, when the Torah describes the Jews encamping at Mount Sinai, it uses the singular verb (lit. ויחן), because the giving of the Torah tapped into the unitary, integrated sanctity of the Jewish People.

This notion, that holiness is rooted in the collective spiritual consciousness of Israel, is expressed in the Beit haMikdash in a number of ways. The Kohen Gadol, whose service caused the Divine Presence to rest upon Israel, wore a breastplate(lit. חשן) upon which were engraved the names of the 12 Tribes. The Beit haMikdash was not in the portion of any individual tribe, but rested on land purchased by the entire nation. And communal korbanot had to be purchased by communal funds, and could not be paid for by any individual.

However, when it comes to the second type of spirituality, the communal element is not accentuated. In the world of action, the individual is primary. Every person must regard it as if the entire world was created for his sake. He must take responsibility for performing mitzvot and ma’asim tovim to the utmost of his ability.

We are now ready to understand the verses that we began with. They are not describing a person who regards himself free to ignore all of the Torah’s commands – only certain ones. This individual believes that his personal religious affairs are irrelevant to G-d, who cares only about the spiritual health of the collective. In public, this individual acts like an upstanding Jew and he is fervent about maintaining his affiliation with the collective. He is not a poresh min ha’tzibur of the sort denigrated by Chazal and later sources, like the Rambam. But in the privacy of his home, the Torah is simply not a part of his reality. The fact that “the entire Congregation is holy and G-d is in their midst” is all that matters to him.

That G-d takes such offense to this perspective should make clear to us how profoundly mistaken it is. Living as a Jew is about “playing for the team” – not just being a dues-paying member. The fact that we live in upstanding communities –collective bodies permeated with chesed, emunah and Torah learning – is insufficient as long as those values don’t enter our personal lives and find expression in the world of action, and even when no one is looking.

Food for Thought

Reflections of the Rav (Vol. 2, Pg. 85-87): Judaism understands the greatness of the existential experience of man alone. It is important to be an individual. Man is creative because he is an individual and is different. He can be alone and live in the recesses of his personality, unknown to others. On the other hand, Judaism also understands the greatness of the community, of the existential experience of living in the community. According to Judaism, both the thesis and the antithe­sis are correct. Jews must be capable of being alone and at the same time of being together. The Jew must be capable of with­drawing and escaping from society and the noise of the street. He must be able to leave behind the vulgarity, coarseness, and artifici­ality of society. However, he must also be capable of coming back, joining, merging, and once again being one with society.

The Jew should experience existence as a “together” affair as well as only an “I” affair. He should be concerned only with him­self and at the same time with everyone else, with the community. The individual is both. He is a separate existential entity who can­not imagine existence outside of himself. As you know, as man gets older he begins to think in very strange and peculiar terms. I can imagine many things. I cannot imagine how it is possible for the world to go on existing after I have left it.

There is a short story written by a master writer, Peter Altenberg. He was an assimilated Jew who lived in Vienna at the turn of the century. Altenberg opposed Theodor Herzl, the founder of the Zionist movement, who also lived in Vienna at that time. Altenberg wrote a short story which I believe was called “New Year’s Eve, 1951.” In it he describes the New Year when the streets are blanketed with snow, everybody is rushing, and the music plays in the cafes. He was a sensitive person, and he gives a portrayal of New Year’s Eve in Vienna. You have to be Viennese to truly understand his portrait of the New Year’s dances and the affection of the people for one other.

And then there is the last line. “The same New Year’s Eve as I celebrated in 1903 will be celebrated in 1951. There will be only one difference. Peter Altenburg will not be around on New Year’s Eve in 1951.” In other words, he could not imagine how New Year’s Eve could take place without him…

This is a tragic experience. The individual cannot imagine a world that he is not part of. This is basically a tragic experience, but it is also a creative experience. It is an inspiring experience. I cannot explain this to you. But it is inspiring and it is rooted in the individuality and exclusiveness of the human being.

Seforno (Devarim 29:17): The individual described in this verse goes through the motions of participating in the covenant. But at the very moment he voices his acceptance of the covenant, he intends to ignore it. He thinks he is exempt because he never sincerely accepted the covenant in the first place.

Rav Yehuda Amital (Commitment and Complexity, Pg. 71): Modern Western society revolves around three central values, all of which relate to the individual: individual rights, individual liberty and individual privacy. It appears at times as though these have attained the status of absolute values, which may not be violated under any circumstances. Their effect on society and culture is discernible in almost every sphere, from legislation, through education, literature and art to the prevailing everyday lifestyle.

“Privacy of the individual” occupies a special place, for it is most comprehensive and the attitude towards it borders on worship. In light of this value, a number of rules have been established which leave their mark on all social relationships. For example, any conversation between two people who are not members of the same family or close friends must be pragmatic and to-the-point, free of anything personal. Any personal comment or question, or even a show of interest in the personal condition or feelings of one’s partner in conversation is regarded as rude, a desecration of the holy value of privacy and a vulgar violation of his private life. Every person is a closed world, and no one else has the right to penetrate it. As a result, there is a growing sense of alienation in Western society in general… There is “I” and there is “he,” but there is almost never a “we.”

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Horeb, pg. 206): All hallowed things, from orlah to ma’aser, have a national significance. It is the community that sanctifies the offering, and hallowed things are partaken of as part of or as representative of the community; and only with this communal sense are holy actions performed.

Questions for Discussion

  1. See Rav Soloveitchik in “Food for Thought” above. Is he making the same point as Rav Kook, or is he saying something slightly different? (Consider the difference between collective Israel addressed by Rav Kook and “the community” discussed by Rav Soloveitchik.)
  2. Where during the Yamim Noraim do we highlight the role of the individual? The role of the community?
  3. Does the philosophy of the person described by Rav Kook resemble Orthopraxy? Why or why not?
  4. How would our bein adam l’chaivero be different if we were conscious of the idea that all Jews share one soul?
  5. What are some dangers of an overemphasis on the individual? Of an overemphasis on the community?
  6. Where else in Judaism is there a connection between national identity and intrinsic holiness?

Concentric Circles of Perfection – Parshat Ki Tavo

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

Rav Kook (Based on Ein Ayah, Peah)

Then you shall say before the Lord, your G-d, “I have removed the holy [portion] from the house, and I have also given it to the Levite, the stranger, the orphan, and the widow, according to all Your commandment that You commanded me; I have not transgressed Your commandments, nor have I forgotten.” (Devarim 26:13)

[A]ccording to all Your commandment that You commanded me – That is to say, “I have given everything in its proper sequence. I did not give terumah before bikurim, nor ma’aser before terumah, nor ma’aser sheni before ma’aser rishon.” This is a reference to the law stated by the Sages that the Torah prohibits giving tithes out of sequence. (Rashi, based on Mishnah Ma’aser Mishnah)

Obligations and responsibilities need a proper structure. It is not enough to merely ‘check everything off the list.’ Many positive ethical values bring tremendous good at the proper time, but result in destruction and harm when they are implemented prematurely. Thus, we must make sure that we have a proper hierarchy of values, and that primary values are not trampled underfoot in the hasty pursuit of relatively less important matters.

If this seems overly abstract, let us consider the concentric circles of interpersonal responsibilities. A person has primary responsibility to his own family, and after that to his nation, and only after that to all of humanity. When this hierarchy is maintained, tremendous good comes to the world and G-d’s plan for humanity is advanced. Even if a person or generation is unable to make progress on all of these levels, every step is valuable in G-d’s eyes and has merit.

Many times, values of lesser importance do not need to be entirely set aside. Other times, the generation in which a person lives is entirely unprepared, and so certain spiritual ‘fruits’ must be left to ripen. At the end of history, humanity will succeed at rectifying all levels of its existence. With the perfection of spiritual and physical reality, poverty, warfare, sickness and death will become a thing of the past. Humanity’s inner yearning to help others and perform chesed will no longer have any outlets within human society. At that point, it will be our responsibility to turn toward the animal kingdom, to uplift and refine the natural world until it is permeated with love and kindness. As Isaiah (11:7) declares in his Messianic vision, “A wolf shall live with a lamb, and a leopard shall lie with a kid; and a calf and a lion cub and a fatling [shall lie] together, and a small child shall lead them. And a cow and a bear shall graze together, their children shall lie; and a lion, like cattle, shall eat straw.” Man will take his rightful place as the beneficent ruler of the entire natural world, and Divine hashgacha will be poured out over all of G-d’s creations.

This is a beautiful vision, but the time has obviously not yet arrived for it to be implemented. We still live in a broken and imperfect world, a world that overflows with the bloodshed of war, a world that is full of falsehood and devoid of pure knowledge of G-d, full of injustice and oppression of the poor. In the face of all of this brokenness, we must focus on the areas of our primary responsibility, beginning with our own families and our own nation. It is hasty and foolish to skip over these areas and pour one’s energies into fixing all of humanity, just as one cannot build the upper stories of a building without a robust foundation. The inevitable result will be terrible physical and spiritual suffering for humanity, far in excess of whatever meager improvements once manages to achieve.

In our times, it is similarly shortsighted to turn aside from human welfare altogether and focus on the advancement of the animal world. How can anyone with a pure conscience allocate their chesed to a horse or camel, a dog or a pig, when their family, their fellow citizens and fellow human beings cry out in suffering in our imperfect world?

According to our Sages, this is the lesson taught by vidui ma’aser. It is not enough simply to give everything that one owes. One must follow the proper sequence, and ensure that their obligations and responsibilities are structured properly, in accordance with a Divine hierarchy of values.

Food for Thought

Rav Yehuda Amital (Commitment and Complexity, pg. 79): In all spheres there are differences of degree and level. There are major issues and minor issues. Even when it comes to major issues, there are different levels of importance. In the realm of sanctity, too, there is the Kodesh (Holy), and there is the Kodesh ha-Kodashim (Holy of Holies). The world of values is likewise structured like a ladder: there are the more important values, and there are less important values. A person’s stature and wisdom are measured by his ability to live by a scale of values whose order is established in accordance with the truth of Torah: “a ladder that is placed on the ground and whose top reaches the heavens” (Bereishit 28:12). This is the ladder of G-d; the righteous shall ascend it.

Rav Chaim Vital: There are many people who do abundant chesed with others, but are not generous or giving with their spouse or other members of their family. Such people expect tremendous reward in Gan Eden. But when they get there, they will find that all of their chesed is regarded as empty and not worth anything.

Esti Rosenberg (Eulogy for Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, A Life Steady and Whole pg. 81): The heaven your ladder reached was one of Torah learning, of awe, faith and virtue, of morality, kindness and astounding humility, of sensitivity and greatness in intense Torah study – all combined with gemilut hesed in the fullest. And indeed, you have now arrived in the heavens. As your many students looked up to you from afar with an uplifting sense of awe, they feared not living up to your expectations. Your conduct and deeds… your integrity and your modesty, all often seemed far beyond their reach.

But to us, your children, our spouses, and your grandchildren, you were a ladder set firmly on the ground. You were a person of smiles and simple fatherly compassion; a scholar who learned Torah in his study but was always happy to interrupt to listen to our silly stories about our friends and was deeply involved in our lives. You measured the kitchen cabinets and the new washing machine; booked family vacations months in advance; were interested and involved in all our financial concerns, and found time to come to performances of my youth group and at school. People saw you and could not believe their eyes. They could not believe that you washed dishes on Friday nights and made Tonny her soft-boiled eggs. You prepared the soda siphon and made pudding for all of us with impressive ceremony. You boucded your grandchildren on your knees and even yelped playfully with them. We knew and felt how enormously privileged we were.

Shulchan Aruch (Yoreh Deah 251:3): When it comes to tzedakah, one’s parents take precedence over others, as do one’s other relatives. One’s household takes precedence over the poor of one’s city. The poor of one’s city take precedence over the poor of another city. And the inhabitants of the Land of Israel take precedence over those who live outside it.

Aruch haShulchan (ibid): If we understand these words literally, it implies that there is no requirement to give anythingto groups lower on the hierarchy until those that take precedence have been addressed. But it is well known that every wealthy person has many poor relatives (and all the more so every poor person). How can it possibly be that a poor person without any rich relatives will die of hunger?! It seems clear to me that everyone, whether rich or poor, must give to poor people who are not relatives; the hierarchy of tzedakah means only that one must give more to those who are relatives.

Daniel Gordis: [Note for context – Daniel Gordis, one of the most articulate voices in the Jewish world, became embroiled in a dispute during the recent Gaza war. With his two sons serving in the IDF and poised on the border of Gaza for an imminent invasion (that never took place), Gordis was deeply troubled by a missive written by Rabbi Sharon Brous to her congregation, which Gordis considered “even-handed” to the point of “betrayal.” He wrote a response in The Times of Israel] Universalism, Cynthia Ozick once noted, has become the particularism of the Jews. Increasingly, our most fundamental belief about ourselves is that we dare not care about ourselves any more than we can about others…

This inability to distinguish ourselves from the mass of humanity, this inability to celebrate our own origins, our own People and our own homeland, I argue in my latest book, The Promise of Israel, is dysfunctional. Do we not care about our own children more than we care about other people’s children? And shouldn’t we? Are our own parents not our responsibility in a way that other people’s parents are not?…

That an utterly universalized Judaism is almost entirely divorced from the richness of Jewish heritage and the worldview of our classic texts is bad enough. But on weeks like this, with hundreds of thousands of Israelis sleeping in bomb shelters and many millions more unspeakably frightened, it’s become clear that this universalized Judaism has rendered not only platitudinous Jews, but something worse. It bequeaths us a new Jew utterly incapable of feeling loyalty. The need for balance is so pervasive that even an expression of gut-level love for Israelis more than for their enemies is impossible. Balance has now bequeathed betrayal.

… As I read Rabbi Brous’s missive, I couldn’t stop thinking about my two sons, both in the army, each doing his share to save the Jewish state from this latest onslaught. What I wanted to hear was that Rabbi Brous cares about my boys (for whom she actually babysat when we were all much younger) more than she cares about the children of terrorists. Especially this week, I wanted her to tell her community to love my family and my neighbors more than they love the people who elected Hamas and who celebrate each time a suicide bomber kills Jews. Is that really too much to ask?”

Questions for Discussion/Food for Thought

  1. As Torah Jews, how can we make sure that we have a proper hierarchy of values?
  2. See the Shulchan Aruch in “Food for Thought” above. Does it support Rav Kook’s point about having a hierarchy of values? (Make sure to see the Aruch haShulchan’s commentary, also excerpted above.)
  3. Rav Kook says that “terrible physical and spiritual suffering” are the result of pursuing ambitious universal goals before rectifying one’s family and particular nation. What do you think he is referring to?
  4. Rav Kook talks about three levels – the family, the nation, and humanity. Are there any other intermediate ‘levels’ that should be added to the hierarchy of priorities?
  5. How can we focus on our energies on our families and Jewish communities without losing sight of our responsibilities to the broader society that we are part of?
  6. Why does Rav Kook disapprove of vegetarianism?

The Real World and the Ideal World – Parshat Ki Teitzei

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Who is right?

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

Rav Kook (Based on Pinkesei haRe’iah, 1:34)

If you go out to war against your enemies, and the Lord, your G-d, will deliver them into your hands, and you take captives, and you see among the captives a beautiful woman and you desire her, you may take [her] for yourself as a wife. (Devarim 21:10-11)

According to our tradition, the entire law of the non-Jewish captive wife (lit. yefat to’ar) is a concession to the yetzer ha’ra. In the heat of battle, the Torah allowed soldiers to indulge their desires and provided a legal framework for doing so. It suspended the normal prohibition against relations with non-Jewish women, because G-d deemed it impossible to uphold the normal standards of sexual morality in this context.

The entire law of the yefat to’ar is strange, and has bothered many great Jewish thinkers. Suppressing and channeling one’s physical desires is central to Torah life, and the Torah is not in the habit of granting indulgences. Why does the Torah make an exception here?

The answer is that we have to understand the parshah of the yefat to’ar in its broader context. The midrash, cited by Rashi, declares that there is no dispensation to have relations with a yefat to’ar in a milchemet mitzvah – i.e. a war conducted for the purpose of conquering Eretz Yisrael, for self-defense, or certain other ‘principled’ reasons. The law of yefat to’ar applies only applies in a milchemet ha’reshut – that is, a discretionary war undertaken to conquer land for political or economic reasons.

The very existence of milchemet ha’reshut indicates that humanity [1] has not yet reached the highest level of ethical development and moral clarity. Ultimately, humanity is supposed to realize that spilling blood for political ends is wicked and shameful. But until that time, G-d demands that we deal with reality as it is, and not as we yearn for it to be. G-d does not demand of Israel that it adopt a pacifist stance in the face of other nations who still hold firm to the sword, who amass bombs and tanks and other tools of bloodshed. Israel is thus permitted to engage in warfare for political ends, and thus deal with other nations ‘on their level.’

However, G-d demands that we understand this reality as a concession, and never as an ideal. Even while involved in the world of warfare, we must retain our yearning for the day when all nations “will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks, when nation shall not lift the sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore” (Isaiah 2:4).

The law of yefat to’ar is the Torah’s way of cultivating sensitivity to the ideal in a less than ideal world. It does not take great sensitivity to realize that the matter of the yefat to’ar is a shameful concession to the yetzer ha’ra. Even in a world that hasn’t yet attained clarity about the immorality of warfare for political ends, this should be clear. By embedding the law of the yefat to’ar in a parshah about warfare, the Torah is telling us as follows – “Just as it is obvious that you need to rise above the dispensation of the yefat to’ar, it is equally incumbent on you to rise above the shamefulness of warfare and its bloodshed.”

[1] The parshah of yefat to’ar is directed at the Jewish people – so how does Rav Kook see it as reflecting on the moral stature of all humanity? The answer seems to be that Rav Kook has an unspoken premise here, one that he articulates explicitly in many other places. He believes that Israel’s ethical sensitivity outshines that of all other nations. It cannot be that humanity has reached a level of clarity where it realizes the shamefulness of milchemet ha’reshut, but Israel has not.

Food for Thought

R. Nissim b. Adahan (Morocco, 1846-1926): The matter of yefat to’ar is commonly explained as a dispensation to the yetzer ha’ra. G-d knew that Israel would not be able to uphold the highest standards of sexual morality in warfare, and so he permitted the yefat to’ar. However, it seems that the opposite is true. Much of the desire for prohibited things comes from the very fact that they are prohibited. As Mishlei teaches, “Stolen waters are sweet.” Permitting the yefat to’ar is actually the Torah’s means of taking away the yetzer ha’ra for the yefat to’ar. [Note – various Chasidic thinkers (the Toldos Ya’akov Yosef, the Kotzker, and Chiddushei haRim all make the same point in slightly different way.]

Daniel Greenfield (Contemporary): In our modern age… the truly moral army never fights a war. When it must fight a war, then it fights it as proportionately as possible, slowing down when it’s winning so that the enemy has a chance to catch up and inflict a completely proportional number of casualties on them. Forget charging up a hill. Armies charge up the slippery slope of the moral high ground and they don’t try to capture it from the enemy, because that would be the surest way to lose the moral high ground, instead they claim the moral high ground by refusing to try and capture it, to establish their moral claim to the moral high ground…

Sadly, the only way to win the moral high ground is by losing. Just look at the massive Arab armies who repeatedly invaded Israel, did their best to overwhelm it with the best Soviet iron that the frozen factories of the Ural could turn out, and lost the bid to drive the Jews into the sea, but won the moral high ground. Then their terrorist catspaws spent decades winning the moral high ground by hijacking airplanes full of civilians, murdering Olympic athletes and pushing old men in wheelchairs from the decks of cruise ships. All these killing sprees accomplished absolutely nothing useful… but that failure won the terrorist catspaws the moral high ground. Their failure to win a war by hijacking buses full of women and taking the children of a school hostage conclusively established their moral superiority and nobility of spirit….

But the moral high ground proved notoriously elusive for the Jewish State. There was a brief lull [with the Oslo accords]… but then the terrorists started killing Israelis again and the Israelis insisted on fighting back. In no time at all the moral high ground was roped off with a special reserved section for terrorists and a sign reading, “No Israelis Will Be Admitted Unless They Renounce Their Government, Zionism and the Right of Self-Defense”…

Israel’s solution has been to fight limited wars while remaining absolutely committed to peace. No sooner does a war begin, then it is pressed to accept a ceasefire. To show its commitment to peace, Israel is expected to accept the ceasefire. At which point Hamas will begin shooting rockets again and the whole dance will begin all over again. But Israel has trouble refusing a ceasefire because its leaders still believe that they can get at the moral high ground by showing that they are more committed to peace than the other side. The peace is however unwinnable. It’s not even survivable in the long term. Peace either exists as a given condition or it is maintained by strong armies and ready deterrence. Peace cannot be found on the moral high ground, only the mountains of the graves of the dead.

The father of an Israeli soldier told his son after he was called up for duty that he would rather visit him in prison than visit him in the cemetery. “If you are fired on, fire back.” That is good advice not just for that young man, but for his entire country, and for the civilized world. It is better to fire than be fired upon. It is better to be thought a criminal, than mourned in Holocaust museums. It is better to leave the moral high ground to those who worship the romance of endless bloodshed and defeat. It is better to lose the peace and win the war.

Rav Kook (Orot haMilchamah, 3): 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 media 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 nation by principles of good, wisdom, rectitude, and clear divine enlightenment…. “Let my master pass before his servant.” It is not worthwhile for Jacob 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.

Shelah (Parshat Ki Teizeit, דרך חיים תוכחת מוסר): The notion of a dispensation to the yetzer ha’ra is not limited to the yefat to’ar. There are many things that the Torah permits which are less than ideal, and it is incumbent upon a spiritual person to be discerning and sanctify himself even in matters that are permitted.

Questions for Discussion/Food for Thought

  1. What distinguishes an unjust or immoral war from one that is just and moral?
  2. Is there anything good about war? Or is it entirely bad?
  3. See Daniel Greenfield, excerpted above in “Food for Thought.” Do you think Rav Kook would agree with him, or is he going farther than Rav Kook would? Also, do you think that Mr. Greenfield’s views are consistent with Torah Judaism? Why or why not?
  4. According to Rav Kook, the mere fact that the Torah gives someone the right to do something doesn’t make it right. Can you think of any other Torah laws that might illustrate this principle?
  5. Is there a ‘slippery slope’ behind distinguishing between what the Torah permits and what it considers an ideal?
  6. How can we cultivate sensitivity to our ideals in situations where it is not possible to fully implement them in practice?

Worlds of Halacha, Worlds of Aggadah – Parshat Shoftim

Printable PDF available here. the-promised-land-of-israel.jpg

Rav Kook (Based on Igrot haRe’iah Vol. 2, 123)

If a matter eludes you in judgment… then you shall rise and go up to the place the Lord, your G-d, chooses.And you shall come to the Levites, the Kohanim and to the judge who will be in those days, and you shall inquire, and they will tell you the matter of judgment. (Devarim 17:9)

Torah is comprised by two different disciplines – aggadah and halacha. The latter deals with practical conduct, while the former addresses the wisdom of the heart and the realm of ideas. Each of them derives their vigor from different roots of our holy Torah. Halacha comes from intellectual, cognitive wisdom (lit. חכמה), while the world of aggadah draws upon prophecy.

The role of prophecy in halachic adjudication has not yet been charted with satisfactory precision. Granted, the Talmud records the principle that the power of halachic decision making “is not in heaven” Bava Metzia 59), and this is cited by the Rambam in Mishnah Torah as an absolute rule. However, Rambam’s extreme formulation was not adopted by many other great rabbinic figures, and there are many sources in Chazal with which it is not easily reconciled.

It would seem more accurate that the exclusion of prophecy from the halachic process is only general rule, with various exceptions and qualifications. Indeed, the very first mishnah in Avot, which teaches that the zekeinim passed the Torah tradition onto the Nevi’im, highlights the role of prophets in the transmission of the Oral Torah. It seems overly contrived to insist that these links in the chain of our mesorah were prophets only by happenstance, and that their prophetic powers had no role to play in the Torah that they learned and taught. There are also Talmudic passages (such as Zevachim 62a) that refer to the involvement of prophets in halachic decisions.

And even if prophecy is disqualified from formally resolving halachic disputes, it is evident that the inner character of halachic study is molded and shaped by prophecy. For this reason, we find that the discourage of the Sages of Eretz Yisrael, the only place where prophecy is possible, was shorter and more straightforward than that the Babylonian sages. The latter required a lengthy and complex dialectic to clarify matters of Torah law, a style that is familiar to anyone who has ever studied the Babylonian Talmud. However, as the “atmosphere of Eretz Yisrael confers wisdom” (Bava Basra, 158b), the Sages who lived in the holy land perceived Torah truths with a calm, inner intuition and a broadness of mind. Thus, unlike the expression commonly found in the Talmud Yerushalmi, “Ta chazi” or “Ta chami” (“Come and see”), the Babylonian Talmud uses the expression “Ta shema” (“Come and hear”). “Ta shema” indicates a greater distance from the source, analogous to the difference between the clarity of that which is seen as opposed to that which is only heard.

This matter finds expression in a fascinating dispute between the Babylonian Talmud and the Talmud Yerushalmi. Parshat Shoftim describes the responsibility to consult the Sanhedrin on disputed matters of Torah law (lit. דבר המשפט), and the eventual punishment of a rebellious Sage who refuses to accept the Sanhedrin’s authority. While the Babylonian Talmud (Sanhedrin 87a) teaches that the word “דבר” is a reference to halacha, the Talmud Yerushalmi teaches that it refers to aggadah. Evidently, the Sages of Eretz Yisrael were able to conceive of binding, authoritative resolution to matters of aggadah, but the Babylonian Sages were not. The latter were too removed from the inner spiritual intuition of prophetic consciousness for that to be a realistic possibility. As noted earlier, their discourse was characterized by meticulous intellectual reasoning; this approach bears great fruit when applied to halacha, to matters of practical conduct, but it is incapable to drawing definitive conclusions in the realm of aggadah, which flows from the inner wisdom of the heart and the realm of ideas.

The written Torah also alludes to these two different approaches. In Parshat Shoftim, the Torah commands “You shall approach the Levite/the Kohen and the judge who will be at that time.” Why mention both the Kohen and the judge? The answer is that their roles were not the same. Judges practices the halachic approach of the Babylonian sages, and worked with a process of clear and methodical deductive reasoning. Granted, the Kohanim also used their intellect (as halacha is not a magical, esoteric process), but also drew upon ruach ha’kodesh and higher spiritual inspiration to clarify the halacha. This is particularly true of the Kohen Gadol, who required Divine inspiration in order to consult with the Urim and Tumim.

To our sadness, we no longer have prophecy and as a result, the maximalist interpretation of Torah “not being in heaven” is the one we must follow. We no longer have the inner clarity and spiritual intuition embodied the Talmud Yerushalmi, and so our approach to halacha is based on the Babylonian Sages and the Babylonian Talmud. But with the return of Israel to the Land of Israel, we eagerly look forward to the day when Torah can return to its full splendor.

Food for Thought

Rabbi Asaf Bednarsh (Har Etzion Virtual Beit Midrash): According to one answer in Tosafot, the general rule is that we do, in fact, decide the halakha based on a heavenly voice or other supernatural proof. Only in the case of the “Oven of Akhnai, where R. Eliezer demanded explicitly that a heavenly voice attest to the correctness of his opinion, do we suspect that the heavenly voice might have fibbed in order to preserve the honor of R. Eliezer. Tosafot assumes that G-d is so concerned for the honor of Torah scholars that He would even send out a false message to protect R. Eliezer’s honor – even though R. Eliezer foolishly backed himself into a corner by demanding heavenly evidence – and that G-d would rely on the assembled Sages to know better than to heed this white lie (and, indeed, they did know better).

According to the second opinion in Tosafot, we accept the conclusion of the story of the “Oven of Akhnai” and assume that supernatural evidence cannot override the normal workings of the halakhic process. The heavenly voice that favored R. Eliezer has no authority to override the principle of majority rule that was referenced by R. Yehoshua. However, we do grant authority to the heavenly voice that decided in favor of Beit Hillel, because, as mentioned in the gemara there, there was no clear majority on the side of Beit Shammai. Beit Hillel was numerically larger than Beit Shammai, but it was universally acknowledged that the Sages of Beit Shammai were sharper that those of Beit Hillel. Apparently, Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disagreed regarding the question of whether the halakha should follow the school with the larger population or the one with more intellectual prowess. This created a logical conundrum, for according to Beit Hillel’s opinion, Beit Hillel was in the majority and therefore should be followed, but according to Beit Shammai, Beit Shammai constituted the majority and their opinion must be followed. In such a case, where the standard halakhic process has no way of resolving the dispute, there is room for a heavenly voice to intervene and tell us what to decide.

According to this opinion, supernatural evidence does have authority within the halakhic process, but only when it does not contradict the accepted rules of halakhic decision making.

The Rambam seems to have a third opinion about the scope of this principle. He writes that if anyone were to bring supernatural proof to buttress a claim that we should add, subtract, or modify a mitzva of the Torah, he is to be considered a false prophet and is liable to receive the death penalty. Likewise, adds the Rambam, even if this person were merely to claim that the halakha should follow a particular side of a dispute, he is considered a false prophet, because he contradicts the principle of lo ba-shamayim hi. The Rambam thus assumes that the principle of lo ba-shamayim hi is universal and allows no exceptions. Even in the case of an unresolved halakhic dispute, where there may be no clear halakhic precedent that dictates whom the halakha should follow, it is anathema to bring supernatural evidence and involve the Heavens in an earthly halakhic dispute.

According to the Rambam, the heavenly voice that favored Beit Hillel is granted no authority whatsoever. We must therefore conclude that the halakha follows Beit Hillel not because of any heavenly voice, but rather because the majority of Sages in the later generations agreed with the logic of Beit Hillel, in accordance with the normal halakhic process.

Mountain Climbing – Parshat Re’eh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Food for Thought

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Questions for Discussion

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

Opening the Wellspring – Parshat Devarim

 

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

Rav Kook (Based on the Introduction to Ein Ayah)

On the other side of the Jordan, in the land of Moab, Moses began to explain (באר) this Torah. (Devarim 1:4)

In Tanach, we find two different verbs for pursuing a deeper understanding of Torah. One term, which characterizes the book of Devarim, is bi’ur. The other term is peirush. What is the difference between these two modes of comprehending Torah? And what determines which mode is appropriate for a specific Torah discipline, or in a particular generation? The difference between bi’ur and peirush may seem like wordplay, but these are not mere synonyms. Understanding these conceptual categories will take us to the very essence of Torah itself.

Peirush shares the same root as the Hebrew word for unfolding, as is clear from other verses in Tanach.[1] When one engages in peirush, they are literally “unfolding” the subject of their study, extracting its full implications and “spreading it out,” like one broadening out the folds of a garment. Through this linear and focused process of cognition, one can discover a wealth of insight and profundity in every Torah teaching.

Bi’ur involves an entirely different mode of cognition. No single teaching of Torah can be exhausted by the process of unpacking its implications through peirush. Because of the Torah’s Divine character, every aspect of Torah contains a flow of light and wisdom that pours forth through one who makes himself a suitable vessel. When the G-dly wisdom of Torah percolates through human intellect, a wealth of associations and connections emerge from every word. Bi’ur is not a linear process of ‘unpacking’ the Torah’s wisdom, nor is not bounded by the measured and deliberate steps of formal logic. Its wisdom is innovative and associative, and involves creativity and flashes of inspiration.

The word bi’ur is thus related to the word be’er, or wellspring, and connotes the expansive, associative dimension of Torah, whereby lifegiving waters of holiness flow forth from every utterance that Israel has inherited from previous generations of its scholars and ancestors. It should not surprise us, then, that our Sages refer to the highest level of Torah scholar as “an ever-increasing wellspring” and “an unending river.”

Let us examine another important difference. Although one can acquire an appreciation of the ‘big picture’ of Torah through peirush, its focus is principally upon the discrete details of the Torah system. The big picture emerges only through the painstaking amalgamation of sufficient detail, much like the scene of a pointillist painting is created by thousands of individual dots of paint. However, the pursuit of bi’ur is primarily concerned with the general character of Torah. It seeks out the Divine will and ethical vitality that lies within and animates every single detail. Before, we noted that bi’ur is related to the Hebrew word for wellspring. Just as a spring of water is a single, integrated entity that flows and moves as one, bi’ur involves the pursuit and perception of the underlying unity of the Torah and its ultimate telos.

Through bi’ur, even halachic disputes can be resolved by recourse to the general, all-encompassing Divine will and ethical foundations of the Torah.[2] But this demands towering spiritual personalities who can accurate discern the ruach haTorah, without being misled by their own weaknesses, desires or un-Jewish ideologies. Individuals of such spiritual sensitivity can only emerge when Israel is at the highest level of holiness, with a seamless integration of physical and spiritual reality. This can only be attained in the Land of Israel, “whose very air infuses the soul with Divine wisdom.”  For this reason, we find that Moshe did not begin his bi’ur of the Torah until now, when the Jews were on the verge of entering the Holy Land.

In exile, the requisite level of spiritual sensitivity for adjudicating halachic disputes through bi’ur is lacking. One who attempts to do so is likely to stumble. And thus, at least when it comes to halachic matters, our responsibility is to dedicate our collective energies to peirush haTorah. Thus, we find that generations later, when the wellsprings of the be’er had begun to close, Ezra led a return to Torah learning and education. And we are told “they read in the scroll, in the Law of G-d, clearly (lit. meforash)… and they explained the reading to them” (Nechemiah 8:8).

However, the wellspring of Torah remains open in the realm of aggadah. There are two reasons for this. First of all, the concern for stumbling in matters of practical conduct is not as great in aggadah as it is in halacha. Secondly, it is easier to perceive the all-encompassing Divine will and ethical foundations of the Torah in aggadah than it is in the (seemingly) dry details of halacha. Thus, when it comes to aggadah, we remain free to pursue an associative and expansive, and carve channels through which the lifegiving waters of the Torah can flow.

[1] Rav Kook references Isaiah 25:11 – “And he [Moav] shall spread out (ופרש) his hands in his midst as the swimmer spreads out (יפרש) to swim and He shall humble his haughtiness [together] with the cunning of His hands.” See also Devarim 22:17 – “And they shall spread (ופרשו) the garment before the elders of the city.”

[2] Rav Kook notes that the investigation of טעמי המצוות is a component of bi’ur.

Food for Thought

World Heritage Encyclopedia: Aggadah…   refers to the homiletic and non-legalistic exegetical texts in the classical rabbinic literature of Judaism, particularly as recorded in the Talmud and Midrash. In general, Aggadah is a compendium of rabbinic homilies that incorporates folklore, historical anecdotes, moral exhortations, and practical advice in various spheres, from business to medicine.  In terms of etymology… the Aramaic root אגד (as well as נגד from which אגדה may arise) has the dual implication of “expanding” / “drawing out” and “binding” / “drawing in”. Correspondingly, the Aggadah may be seen as those teachings which communicate Rabbinic traditions to the reader, simultaneously expanding their understanding of the text, while strengthening their religious experience and spiritual connection. The root also has the meaning “flow”…

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch: Allow me to posit a general principle: aggadic statements are surely not ordinary or irrelevant statements. They are extremely precious statements that are surely pertinent to the intention of he Torah’s Giver, blessed is He. For, beyond the study and transmission of the details of Jewish practice so that Jewry should know how to act, every scholar to whom G-d grants the ability to do so, draws wisdom and mussar from the well of Torah and mitzvos according to his time and place, and according to his understanding and talents, in order to attract Jewish hearts to love of G-d and of His Torah. These are the darshanim of every generation. In his lectures, each of them develops his unique style in accord with his nature and spirit. There is no doubt that this form of expression is acceptable to G-d so long as it does not stray from the way of truth and uprightness. It is acceptable and part of His intention from the very giving of His Torah, when He informed Moshe of these aspects of Torah, too — but in a general way, without going into all the details that some scholar might at some time express publicly in a lecture. He transmitted it generally so that each scholar could develop his own ideas and produce fresh flowers in the garden of Torah and mitzvos to please G-d and man. It is no wonder that defiled men may not learn Aggadah any more than Halachah, for aggadic statements are as a whole considered part of Torah and most of them are based on verses in Tanach.

Rabbi Shalom Carmy (reviewing the philosophy of Rav Eliezer Berkovits): [Certain themes are] characteristic and distinctive to Berkovits’s halakhic philosophy. One such element is the priority of ethics in Halakhah. Conformity to the rules of halakhah is not an end in itself but merely one reflection of a set of higher moral principles. No stable legal system functioning in the real world can perfectly articulate the underlying values; therefore the timeworn precedents of the codified Halakhah should be maintained. But their final justification derives from the moral principles. Proper interpretation and application of the Halakhah should be governed by these principles. Hence Halakhah cannot conflict with morality. When codified Halakhah inflicts real damage on moral ends, in Berkovits’s opinion, as with numerous rulings on women’s status or when conversion standards ignore non-Orthodox concepts of Jewish identity, Berkovits advocates change.

Berkovits’s moral ends derive from internal Jewish sources. This is where he differs from other scholars (identified with Conservative Judaism) who justify halakhic change resulting from the encounter of tradition with the evolving needs of individual or society. The law may change, in Berkovits’s view, but the values do not; the purpose of change is to better sustain the values under varying conditions. Thus Berkovits’s dissatisfaction with mainstream Halakhah regarding women is rooted, not in the pressures of contemporary egalitarianism, but in his judgment about biblical conceptions of justice…

But Berkovits exceeds these modest claims: Most of us take guidance, when we study and when we act, from a set of important moral intuitions, but we hold them somewhat loosely. The body of Torah literature is complex, and, in the most sensitive areas, inhospitable to one-sided value judgment. Hence learning demands that we struggle with ideas that frequently pull us in conflicting directions. We strive to balance our philological and literary investigation of what the text says, and how it has been understood by the fellowship of talmidei hakhamim throughout the generations, against our moral and psychological conviction of what it ought to say, in our opinion. Because the editors of the Mishnah and the Talmud chose to include the conflicting views of the Sages, and because this decision molded the nature of our study ever after, the student of Torah is required to respect rabbinic positions that are not accepted at a practical level; thus he carries in his bones, so to speak, not only the final law, but the voices of disagreement and debate behind the law. In this incessant dialogue the student is sometimes compelled to recognize that the ideas and values with which he began do not fit the law. When this occurs, one does not reject or amend the law; it is our thinking that is ripe for revision. Charged with the responsibility of interpreting the law, we educate ourselves through the study, and the results are not always predictable.

Berkovits, by contrast, displays great confidence in his ability to discern, and define with precision the underlying axiology that ought to determine Halakhah, and which values should be allowed to override the others. For all the times he reminds us that no set of laws can succeed in absolutely capturing moral-religious reality, he is not inclined to remind himself that putting one’s trust in a set of general principles is a less reliable method of reaching truth than committing oneself to a set of precepts and texts with all their strange turnings and surprising twists.

Questions for Discussion

  1. What is the purpose of aggadah? Why isn’t everything needed for Torah life contained in halacha?
  2. What are some dangers of using the “bi’ur” approach to Torah to resolve halachic disputes?
  3. Is it important to study the reasons for mitzvot? Why or why not?
  4. Are you convinced by Rav Kook’s claim that the proper approach to resolving halachic questions can change depending on the spiritual stature of Israel and its leaders?
  5. See Rav Hirsch above in “Food for Thought.” Is he saying the same thing as Rav Kook, or something different?