Just Do Them

In previous years, we mentioned (here) the importance of having a proper outlook on all mitzvah performance. The point can be elaborated, as well as applied more specifically.

Rav Moshe Feinstein points out that the phrase "zos chukas ha'Torah," this is the chok (decree) of the Torah, appears twice in two consecutive parshios. This week's parsha begins with the mitzvah of parah adumah, labelled as "chukas ha'Torah," and then the requirement to purify the utensils acquired from Midian is also referred to as "chukas ha'Torah." Rav Moshe explains that the Torah equates these two mitzvos to teach that one must perform the understandable mitzvos, such as purifying the non-Kosher vessels of Midian, with the same hachna'ah (submission) as he would perform the incomprehensible chukim.

Rav Simcha Bunim of P'shischa (quoted in Otzar Chaim) notes that according to the Medrash quoted by Rashi, the umos ha'olam will ask "ma ta'am yesh bo," literally translated as a question attacking the reason for parah adumah. But the word ta'am, translated as reason, can also refer to taste. In other words, what taste does this mitzvah have; what's the physical enjoyment? They cannot appreciate the spiritual value of mitzvos, they only seek the immediate gratification. For this reason, at the End of Days, when the umos ha'olam will ask Hashem for a mitzvah and he offers the mitzvah of sukkah, they will at first be able to perform the mitzvah without any problems. However, as soon as the mitzvah become physically unpleasant, they will kick the sukkah and go inside (see Avodah Zara 3a). The non-Jews can perform mitzvos, but only if they "make sense."

Rav Soloveitchik (as quoted in the brand new Thinking Aloud on Bamidbar, by the Holtzer family) cites the final Rambam in Sefer Avodah where he offers a philosophical thought, as he often does when concluding a volume of his magnum opus.

ראוי לאדם להתבונן במשפטי התורה הקדושה ולידע סוף ענינם כפי כחו. ודבר שלא ימצא לו טעם ולא ידע לו עילה אל יהי קל בעיניו ולא יהרוס לעלות אל ה' פן יפרוץ בו. ולא תהא מחשבתו בו כמחשבתו בשאר דברי החול. בוא וראה כמה החמירה תורה במעילה. ומה אם עצים ואבנים ועפר ואפר כיון שנקרא שם אדון העולם עליהם בדברים בלבד נתקדשו וכל הנוהג בהן מנהג חול מעל בה ואפילו היה שוגג צריך כפרה. קל וחומר למצוה שחקק לנו הקב"ה שלא יבעט האדם בהן מפני שלא ידע טעמן

(Loosely translated) A person should contemplate the laws of the Torah and understand them to the best of his ability. However, something he cannot rationally explain should not be treated lightly, and cause a rebellion against Hashem. His thoughts should not be comparable to those of divrei chol. When a physical object becomes infused with sanctity, it becomes subject to severe punishment for violating that sanctity (me'ilah). All the more so one should not cheapen the holiness of mitzvos, infused with sanctity by G-d Himself.

Rav Soloveitchik explains that the Rambam is warning against trying to find "divrei chol," contemporary secular value, in mitzvos. While Shabbos and taharas ha'mishpacha may enhance one's psychological well-being and marriage, we do the mitzvos as Hashem's requirements, not as the latest forms of self-help. "Any attempt to inject contemporary meaning, which should be in agreement with the morality and the value systems of the pagan New York Times, is sinful...." We must be proud and confident in our observance of all 613 mitzvos, and not feel desperate to find contemporary cultural value and public approval in all that we do.

Take Another Look

Related to the last point of our discussion about Korach using Yakov's yichus to defend his side, an important point can be expounded by closely examining Korach's exact argument. He would have claimed that he is equally a descendant of Yakov Avinu and would have sounded quite convincing. The exact flaws in his argument deserve a separate discussion, but clearly, Korach's argument was deceivingly close to legitimate.

Rav Elchonon Sorotzkin points out that of all the many instances of the Jewish people fighting with Moshe Rabbeinu throughout the forty years in the desert, Korach is chosen by the mishna as the epitome of machlokes she'lo lisheim Shamayim. The mishna could have selected the various conflicts with Moshe Rabbeinu involving the complaints about water, food, or anything else. Specifically Korach's "spiritual" rebellion, debating halachos and issues of leadership, was selected as the prime example of an inappropriate machlokes. Although Rav Sorotzkin does not fully expand his comment, he seems to allude to the fact that the most dangers disputes are the ones that "smell" kosher. A machlokes such as complaining about food or water can easily be detected as heretical and wrong. This is less true with Korach-like rebellions, which use frum terminology and ideology, and can appear lishma.

B'derech tzachus it is said: "machlokes lisheim Shamayim sofa l'hiskayem," a dispute in which both parties are yelling "Li'sheim Shamyaim! Li'sheim Shamayim" will certainly last forever. A small card, shaped like a credit card, was being sold in a seforim store in Israel. On one side there was some sort of optical illusion; on the back it said "take a closer look, is it really li'sheim Shamayim?". This is a question we must ask ourselves constantly, as we learn from Korach how the other side can look eerily similar to the right side.

No Need for Names

The parsha begins by mentioning the yichus of Korach, and goes back three generations until Levi. Rashi quotes from the Medrash that Yakov davened that "lo yizacher shemo al machlikosam," his name not be included in Korach's dispute. The obvious questions are why it was so important to Yakov not to be mentioned, and why he didn't extend his tefillah to include his prestigious children and grandchildren as well, and spare them their honor.

Rav Mordechai HaKohen (quoted in Otzar Chaim) explains that Yakov was davening to help Korach, not to avoid him. Yakov saw through ru'ach ha'kodesh that Korach was going to create an uprising against Moshe, and invoke his yichus--that he was as much a descendant of the avos as Moshe--to defend his case. Yakov davened that Korach not use his name and prestige when attacking Moshe. He hoped that with one less member of the patriarchs in Korach's lineage, he may withdraw his argument. Unfortunately, Korach continued his attack on Moshe, though Yakov's tefillah was successful. The Kli Yakar says that Korach's rallying cry to B'nei Reuven was that Yakov stole the bechor privileges from Reuven and gave them to Yosef, and now they should fight to have them back. Clearly, as requested, Korach did not respect Yakov as one of his illustrious forefathers.

The Shemen Ha'Tov offers a different explanation (the Kli Yakar says something similar). Yakov Avinu spent so many years of his life involved in various forms of fighting and arguing. He fought with his brother Esav both before and after buying the bechora, he struggled for many years with Lavan, and he had to fend off enemies around him. Yakov requested that Korach should not believe that he was following in the footsteps of his grandfather. He should not think that he is fighting l'shem Shamayim, just as his great grandfather used to do many years earlier. In this way, Yakov asked to please have his name removed from Korach's ideology, and not allow himself to become a part of Korach's mistaken battle cry.

See What Your Heart Desires

At the end of Parshas Shelach, a parsha containing the story of the infamous spies to the land of Israel, Hashem not coincidentally gives the Jewish people the mitzvah of tzitzis. One of the purposes of the tzitzis is to see them, and avoid sin, "v'lo sasuru acharei l'vavchem v'acharei eineichem," do not stray after your hearts and after your eyes. Rashi first notes the similarity between the word "sa'suru," stray, and the word mentioned earlier in the parsha, "mi'sur ha'aretz," when they returned from spying the land. Rashi explains that the heart and eyes can serve as "spies" for the body, finding and desiring aveiros for the body to perform. The connection to the cheit ha'miraglim is a valuable one, but several commentaries point out that according to Rashi's analogy, the order should be reversed: the eyes represent the "front lines" seeking out aveiros, and then the heart desire the aveiros. Why does the pasuk mention the heart first and then the eyes?

The Divrei Avrohom answers based on a gemara in Menachos (44a), which relates a story about a man who heard about an expensive zona across the sea, and collected the four hundred zehuvim necessary to see her. Ultimately, his tzitzits protected him from doing an aveirah, but one lesson derived from the story is that with z'nus, sight is not even necessary. This man simply heard about this woman, and his heart already desired the aveirah before he even saw her. Therefore the Torah warns about the heart, which can steer a person toward sin even before his eyes can see.

The Shemen Ha'Tov gives a different answer, which I think can be understood with an example. Several years ago, two prominent psychologists conducted a now famous study, asking subjects to watch a video, and count how many times the people on the video wearing white shirts pass a ball, while ignoring the subjects wearing black shirts. The famous study (available for viewing here) was named the Invisible Gorilla, because half of the subjects failed to notice that halfway through the video, a man dressed as a gorilla walked  on to the screen, and walked right off. The reasons for why the study worked are numerous, but the punchline is that people don't see what they don't want to (or expect to) see. More commonly stated is the inverse, we see what we want to see. If a person was not expecting to see a gorilla on a video of people playing basketball, he won't see it, even in front of his nose. [Some suggest that this is why the brothers did not recognize Yosef, but that's a separate discussion].

The Shemen Ha'Tov suggests that the miraglim's vision of the happenings in Israel followed the agenda in their hearts to remain in power as nesi'im. The desire in the heart caused the blurred vision. The acharei eineichem actually followed the acharei l'vavchem. The lesson of the miraglim is to start by straightening out our heart and our eyes will naturally follow.

Enjoy!

Parshas Naso usually follows Shavuos, and perhaps we can suggest a connection between the two. Regarding a nazir, the pasuk says (Bamidbar 6:11):

ועשה הכהן אחד לחטאת ואחד לעלה וכפר עליו מאשר חטא על הנפש וקדש את ראשו ביום ההוא

Apparently, in the process of his nezirus, the nazir did some sort of sin requiring a chatas. The gemara (Nedarim 10a), quoted by Rashi, cites the opinion of Rav Elazar Ha'kfar that he sinned by refraining himself from drinking wine. This seems strange, especially considering that Rashi mentions earlier that the reason this person became a nazir is to avoid the downfall of the sotah, one which can be induced by alcohol. If so, how has this seemingly righteous person sinned?

The Rambam  (De'os 3:1) states very clearly that one should always take the middle path in life. One should never have an extreme personality; rather, one should try with all his character traits (except arrogance and anger) to be towards the middle. Even though a nazir is certainly doing a good thing by refraining from wine in order to save himself, the highest level is to be able to thrive spiritually without compensating anything physical.

The Yerushalmi at the end of Kiddushin warns that everyone will face judgement on all food that he saw during his lifetime and did not eat. Again, at first glance, this Yerushalmi appears to be against everything spiritual. In fact, it represents the same idea: Hashem gave us a wonderful, even delicious world, to enjoy. Along these lines, Tosfos (Berachos 37a) explains that the end of the beracha of Borei Nefashos, with the words "li'hachayos bahem nefesh kol chai," we thank Hashem for the luxury foods that we do not need for survival but enjoy. Sanctifying the mundane is a foundation of our religion, and therefore, although a commendable act in many ways, the nazir's voluntary self-restraint is ultimately referred to as sin.

There are certain halachic authorities who believe that at the end of Shalom Aleichem, customarily recited on Friday night, the last paragraph of "Tzeischem L’shalom" should be omitted. After all, why chase the angels away moments after escorting them into the house. Many answers have been given to justify the custom of saying it. Rav Mordechai Finkelman once quoted an answer which explains that although we are grateful to the angels for escorting us home from shul, we are now entering our homes and performing mitzvos through drinking wine, eating challah, and eating all sorts of hot foods. This would create a tremendous jealousy for the angels who can only come close to Hashem through spiritual means. It is for this reason, (similar to tucking in our tzitzis at a cemetery so as not to taunt the dead), that we have no choice but to ask them to leave. For the task of sanctifying the mundane is an exclusively human endeavor.

This idea relates very much to Shavuos as well. On Pesach, the whole house has all chametz cleared out to make room for matzah. The meforshim explain that chametz represents evil (se'or she'bi'isa) while matzah is a pure form of bread without any "superficial" physicality instilled. Now, after fifty days of developing ourselves, we can eat the special shtei ha'lechem karban, consisting of the only chametz brought on the mizbe'ach the entire year. We finally attained the level of not wanting pure spiritual matzah, rather the opportunity to sanctify the chametzdic bread, and make it holy. For this reason, of all the holidays of the year, Shavuos is the one about which the gemara (Pesachim 68b) says, "ha'kol modim ba'Atzeres d'ba'inan nami lachem," all opinions agree that one needs some physical enjoyment on Shavuos. The goal of Shavuos, unlike the approach of the nazir, is to use the Torah to infuse everything with value, meaning, and spirituality, not merely refraining from all physicality.

Waving Flag

Rav Yakov Kaminetsky (Emes L'Yakov) asks two fundamental questions about the concept of degalim, flags, introduced in this week's parsha. First, if the flags were used to organize the shevatim while camping and traveling, then why did Hashem wait until now? The Jews were traveling since they left Mitzrayim one year earlier, so why wait with these beautiful flags. On the flip side, how were the flags even permissible? The notion of dividing the shevatim into separate camps with their own flags with unique colors seems to represent the antithesis of the achdus we always try to promote.

He answers both question with one idea, which seems fundamental in giving context to our everyday interactions as well. Rav Yakov says that indeed, under normal circumstances, such as those immediately following Yetzias Mitzrayim, the flags would represent division. However, after having built the mishkan, which now served as the center of the entire camp, they can now comfortably divide into groups. As long as they were all revolving around one central entity of the mishkan, each shevet could develop its own comfort as an individual organization. Until that point, different groups would be a break of achdus. After that point, the center maintains the achdus.

I once heard Rav Mayer Twersky speak about the "empty nest" syndrome. His response to the difficult parental experience essentially reiterated this idea. Although we enjoy many relationships in our lives, with parents, siblings, a spouse, children, friends, and community, no relationship exists independently; rather, they are all built around the central entity that is Hashem. Our friends and relatives all enhance our avodas Hashem, and our relationships are built on that premise. Like the many shevatim, we can have relationships with others besides Hashem, but also like the shevatim, only with the assumption that our relationship is built "around Him." Working with that assumption, raising children successfully to go in the ways of G-d should create feelings of joy, not sadness. As Rav Hutner writes in a letter, one can expand their "circle," referring to lifestyle, as long as it remains "echad," one united shape, and not two mutually exclusive ones. This lesson was derived from the unique flags used by the shevatim beginning in out parsha.

[This idea also relates to the unique Jewish balance between individuality and community-focus (alluded to here), but that requires a lengthier discussion.]

Making Marriage Count

In honor of the upcoming aufruf and marriage of Andrew Chaimowitz, of Monsey, NY, whose father played a quite significant role in the starting of this blog.

In a recent discussion (here), we mentioned the well-known question of the Ba'al Ha'Meor about not saying she'hechiyanu at the time of sefiras ha'omer, and the answer of the Kedushas Levi/Rav Soloveitchik. In a much less famous discussion, the Gilyonei Ha'shas, of Rav Yosef Engel (Kesubos 7b), asks why when a person gets married there is no beracha of she'hechiyanu. There are few more joyous and memorable days of a person's life than the day of his wedding; how can we not demand that the bride and groom mark the occasion with the recitation of the beracha of she'hechiyanu. [Perhaps more astonishing than the question is how few commentaries deal with the question, but ha'kol taluy bi'mazal, afilu sefer Torah she'biheichal (Tikunei Zohar 127a).]

Rav Engel quotes one answer from the Roke'ach, that marriage is done publicly so there is no she'hechiyanu, which Rav Engel interprets to mean that it is a joint simcha, between the husband, wife, and attendees, and she'hechiyanu is only recited when the excitement is exclusive. However, Rav Engel points out, we should still say the beracha of ha'tov vi'hameitiv, recited over a joint excitement. He therefore  suggests another answer, intentionally omitted here, but perhaps we can suggest another answer, based on the idea of the Kedushas Levi and Rav Soloveitchik about sefiras ha'omer.

Just as we cannot say she'hechiyanu v'kiymanu v'higianu la'zman ha'zeh, "You have given us life and sustained us to arrive at this time," while counting down towards the bigger day of Matan Torah, so too we cannot stand under the chuppah, at the mere commencement of the building of a Jewish home, and declare that we have arrived at a special time. Unlike Hollywood, our marriages are more important than our weddings. The chuppah represents a most auspicious time, a combination of Purim and Yom Kippur tied into one five-hour segment, but it all represents step one. The Jewish home only lays the initial groundwork under the chuppah; the real brick and mortar are built through years of commitment and hard work. We cannot declare that "we have arrived to this time," because we have a long journey of many years before we have arrived at anything significant. The long and wonderful road begins under the chuppah, but we encourage the chosson and kallah to invest their energy into the many years that follow.