Discoveries on the Towpath Trail

Approximately an hour’s drive south and west of where I live is the only National Park in the state of Ohio.  Within this park is contained a 20 mile stretch of the former Ohio and Erie Canal system.  The original towpath upon which mules and horses pulled the canal boats more than 150 years ago is now a popular multi-use trail.  A couple of weeks ago I decided to do some cycling on this trail on a southern section of it that I had not traveled before.  Although each section of the trail provides a variety of sights to see, including historic stores and farms, covered bridges, waterfalls, and various views of the Cuyahoga River and its wetlands, one thing that is common along the entire trail are remains of numerous locks that were essential for the canal to function in bygone days.

The locks are numbered in ascending order as the canal progresses toward Lake Erie.  A historical marker gives interesting details related to each individual lock.  Yet, aesthetically the locks themselves are unimpressive.  Nothing more than disintegrating walls of old quarried stone rising out of deep ditches overgrown with weeds or partially filled with stagnant water.  Such landmarks would be easily overlooked if not for the historical markers that bear the details of their former importance.  Walls of stone rising up that no longer have a functional purpose other than to serve as monuments of a prior time far removed from the technology of today.  

In considering the beginning of parashah Shoftim this past week I found myself faced with the topic of matzevah, the pillar of stone and monument of deity that is forbidden to the Children of Israel in their worship of HaShem.  So repulsive and useless was such a pillar that Moses described it in Deuteronomy 16:22 as something that G-d “hates”.  Such negativity toward a monument of stone is easily understood in historical context, for the people who occupied the land of Canaan into which the present generation of Israel was about to enter, used such pillars in their worship of various pagan deities.  Throughout the book of Deuteronomy (7:25, 12:3) Moses admonished the people to destroy and crush the matzevot once in the Land in the exact manner in which HaShem had commanded the previous generation (Exodus 23:24, 34:13).  Therefore, v. 22 seems as little more than a pointed reminder of a past commandment regarding worship that served no functional purpose for G-d’s people – a mere signpost along the way to more interesting and important topics discussed in passages that follow.

Yet, the sages recognize in this easily overlooked verse a serious dilemma. For matzevah, the stone pillar of worship, is introduced in Torah by means of the patriarch Jacob. The first occurrence of matzevah occurs in Genesis 28:18 in which Jacob, on his way to Haran to find a wife from his mother’s family, spends the night in Bethel where he has a vision in a dream of a “ladder reaching toward heaven”.  Awakening from this heavenly vision Jacob takes the rock he was using as a pillow, sets it on end as a pillar (matzevah) and pours oil upon it as a symbol of worship to HaShem.  Instead of becoming angered with Jacob or forbidding him to do such a thing, HaShem, years later, in instructing Jacob to return to Canaan, identifies Himself as the “G-d of Bethel where you anointed the pillar (matzevah)”(Genesis 31:13). Once back in Canaan HaShem instructs Jacob to return to Bethel where he promises him the inheritance of the Land as given to Abraham.  After hearing from G-d in this way, Jacob again sets up a matzevah, pouring both a drink offering and oil offering upon it (Genesis 35:14). 

How is it that something which is described as hated by HaShem in Deuteronomy, seems to be an accepted and even beloved form of worship as used by Jacob in Genesis?  Rashi understands that initially the use of a matzevah was an acceptable means of worship, in the times of the patriarchs.  Yet, once this form of worship was embraced by paganism and instituted in idolatrous practices it became defiled and therefore hateful to HaShem. In this way the pagan assimilation of a legitimate worship practice used by the patriarchs made this practice unsuitable for the worship of G-d.  

From Rashi’s view it is conjectured that worship in the time of the patriarchs was different than in the time of the nation in the Wilderness.  Both R’ Hirsch and R’ Kook understand that the purpose of worship in the time of the patriarchs was to publicize the name of HaShem.  Since HaShem was not a “known” deity to the world at large, the worship of the patriarchs was meant to familiarize humanity to His Name and make His presence known.  This task was accomplished through means of objects that would represent HaShem symbolically, such as a matzevah.  Later on in history, after the Name of G-d became known in the world and He was recognized as a “legitimate deity” (especially through means of the plagues in Egypt and the Exodus) worship of Him was then to emphasize His abstract dimension, for G-d was much more than merely another deity in the pantheon of known gods. [1]

This new or adjusted emphasis in worship was taught to the Children of Israel by Moses on several occasions as they were prohibited from constructing an image to represent HaShem in anyway.  Although the use of images such as the matzevah was previously allowed, such worship of HaShem is intrinsically defective because there is no image known to mankind or in the created world which can fully or correctly represent Him.  The importance of an abstract conception of G-d outweighed the use of images or symbols to represent His Presence and incorporated a correct form of worship of HaShem.  Although the patriarch Jacob used a matzevah as a beloved symbol of HaShem’s Presence he nevertheless did not use it in any sense as an embodiment of G-d as is common in idolatrous practices.  The understanding of an image as an embodiment of divinity is at the very core of what is “hateful” to G-d.  [2]

In Talmud Yoma 54b a different understanding of the matzevah can be found. In the Gemara, Chazal consider how the land mass of the world was formed.  Although there are various opinions regarding the details of this, all the sages agree that “the world was started from Eretz Israel” specifically with its starting point in Zion (Jerusalem).  This unanimous opinion is based on Psalm 50:1-2 which speaks of G-d “speaking and calling” to the earth, and “out of Zion, perfect in beauty, G-d appeared”. From this it is understood that “from Zion the beauty of the world was perfected.” [3]

In the opinion of R’ Yitzchak Nappacha the process of the world’s formation starting in Zion occurred as HaShem cast a stone into the sea from which a land mass began to grow from the epicenter of Jerusalem.  This is based on Job 38:6 in which HaShem speaks of the creation process as the “foundations of the pillars of the world being sunk” and its cornerstone being “thrown into the sea”.  This cornerstone cast into the sea and from which Jerusalem and Israel and the rest of the land mass of the world proceeded is known in the Talmud as Shetiyah or “The Foundation of the World”.  Shetiyah is also described in the Mishnah as the stone within the Holy of Holies of the Temple upon which the Ark of the Covenant stood and in the second Temple (which lacked the Aron) upon which the incense was burned on Yom Kippur. [4]

According to the Zohar (B’reisheet, Section 1) the Shetiyah (foundation stone of the world) is the very stone which Jacob placed his head upon to sleep in Genesis 28:18, and which he set up as a matzevah of worship to HaShem.   Because of the uniqueness of this stone as being the central point of the universe and upon which would stand the Holy of Holies (the house of G-d, “Beth-El”), this stone alone could be legitimately set up as a pillar of worship to HaShem.  On no other occasion in Torah are any of the patriarchs or other faithful prior to them, described as setting up a single pillar of stone for worship.  This occurrence is unique to Jacob alone, making this a one-time situation with a stone that legitimately symbolized the presence of the abstract G-d.  The foundation stone represented the place G-d would choose to rest his revealed/perceptible presence, in the Holy of Holies of the Temple itself in Jerusalem.  For Israel to use any stone upon the ground as a memorial or pillar to HaShem would be hateful to G-d for only the “cornerstone” of the world, the Temple itself, as the very center of worship and G-d’s revealed presence, could adequately represent the reality of the abstract G-d.

Yet, another way to understand the prohibition of the matzevah in Deuteronomy 16:22 is to compare the matzevah (the stone pillar as a forbidden means of worship) to the mizbeach (the altar of the Temple as the acceptable means of worship).  Matzevah is derived from a root word which means “to stand” and is therefore a way of worship which is meant to “stand alone” and is immovable and unchanging.[5]  Mizbeach derives from a root wording meaning “sacrifice” (as the altar is the receptacle of sacrifice) which is also related to the primitive root “zov” meaning “flowing”.[6]

A matzevah is a monument that never moves; it stays the same and is stagnant in that it represents a truth of G-d or experience with Him that is meant to be remembered or memorialized.  The mizbeach is a place of movement and flow, a place of giving and taking in which a living relationship with HaShem is expressed through means of sacrifice. A matzevah was composed of a single stone, taken from the ground and placed upright.  The mizbeach could either be formed of earth or of many stones (mizbeach avanim) but was never to be composed of one single stone alone (Exodus 20:24-25).

In this way the matzevah alludes to worship that is based on solidly held beliefs or a monumental experience that stands firm at the very center of the individual’s “spiritual universe”, but yet is stagnant and immovable.  Such worship is hateful to HaShem for in spiritual matters to stand still is to regress, and to hold fast to personal beliefs alone without changing and growing is a loss rather than an achievement.  Composed of a single stone, the matzevah reflects individualism in worship and the idea of a single opinion and outlook. [7]

In contrast, the mizbeach reflects active worship that changes and grows through a give and take process.  The fact that the mizbeach is composed of many stones alludes to the idea of community and the perception of many different ways to view and understand the world in order to draw closer to HaShem through a cooperative effort with others of differing opinions and outlooks. [8]

How beautifully these ideas, found in the very Hebrew words of Torah, are presented in 1 Peter;

As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in Scripture: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” (1Peter 2:4-6 ESV)

 Like the Shetiyah, Yeshua is the individual, unique foundation of the spiritual house – the foundation and center of all spiritual truth, a truth that is immovable and unchanging.  Believers are likened to the stones of the altar, living stones that give and take, live and move, and grow closer to G-d through interaction with others and sacrifices of self that are acceptable to G-d.  

. . . . . .

In reaching the southernmost point of the towpath trail within the national park, I turned my bike around to head back northward to my starting point some 14 miles away. The 28 mile round-trip ride was invigorating and refreshing.  Yet, as always there was an impatience on the return trip as well as the anticipation of a tasty packed lunch to be enjoyed at a restful picnic table overlooking a pretty waterfall near the trailhead where the journey began.  As I rode quickly back past one lock after the next, the same locks I had passed on the trip southward, I felt myself compelled to stop along the way and take in the sign post and historical details of at least one of these easily forgotten stone memorials.

Stopping at “lock no. 27” I came upon a very narrow set of quarry stone walls, partially filled with algae-ridden green water.  One interesting feature of this lock was a large iron hook that was originally part of the gate controlling the water level in the lock itself. Lock 27 is known as “Johnny Cake Lock” because flooding which occurred on the canal due to the malfunction of a lock upstream caused several boats to become grounded there.  The passengers and crew of the stranded boats quickly ran out of supplies and were forced to eat from the corn-meal cargo made into pancakes (known as “Johnny cakes”) for several days until help arrived.  

Although the appearance of this former lock was unimpressive and sadly stale, the story behind it was interesting and pertinent and I was glad I stopped to consider it.  Before continuing on I took a picture to remind me of the history found in such a landmark, one which could have been easily overlooked as an unimportant relic of the past.  

How ironic that a discovery on the Towpath Trail was so similar to discoveries made in considering a single verse of scripture that could have been easily overlooked as unimportant and impertinent regarding stone relics of worship from history past. Like the quiet and unassuming locks of the former Ohio and Erie canal, each containing a bit of history to be revealed behind unappealing exteriors hidden and faded by the natural forces that bear upon them, so the Torah as well contains hidden gems of pertinent application behind the façade of what can initially seem to be incidental facts and warnings.

 

[1]  Rav. S.R. Hirsch & Rav A.Y. Kook, as cited in; Rav Mordechai Sabato, Parashat Shoftim (The Prohibitions of Atzera and Matzera) available at:  http://www.vbm-torah.org/parsha.62/43shoftim.htm

 [2] Ibid

 [3] Abraham Yaakov Finkel, Ein Yaakov, Yoma 54b Shetiyah; The Foundation of the World, Jason Aronson (New Jersey) 1999, Windows CD version.

 [4] Ibid

 [5] Rav Binny Freedman, Portion of Shoftim, available at: http://www.isralight.org/assets/Text/RBF_shoftim05.html

 [6] Ibid

 [7] Ibid

 [8] Ibid

Fear and The Three Weeks

This past week I took a break from work, a week of vacation that I had scheduled several months ago.  One of the things I did on this week off was to have my parents over for dinner.  After a delightful meal outside on the deck on a mild evening and a nice time of conversation, as my parents made their way to the door to leave my mother asked me a question; “what is this, on your doorframe”?  The mezuzah my mother was referring to has been on the doorframe of my front door for over 3 years now, although she had failed to notice it.  As I explained the mezuzah and its purpose to her and my father, I couldn’t help but think about an incident from several years ago.

While attending the housewarming party of a Christian friend, she related to a group of us an interesting incident in finding and purchasing her first home.  When the realtor initially took her to see the house the first thing that caught her attention was the “superstitious Jewish amulet” on the front door that “those Jews use to ward off evil spirits”.  Upon seeing this symbol on the door she was filled with doubt and fear and wondered if she should even step foot inside the home. Would the L-RD want her to live in a place that had been previously owned by Jews?  Not wanting to seem unreasonable, and out of consideration for the realtor’s efforts, my friend did go into the house and found that it was exactly what she had been looking for. 

Several weeks later, the first thing she did after signing papers and obtaining the keys to her new home was to drive there with hammer in tow and pry the evil symbols off of every entryway.  She found that inside each amulet was a little scroll of paper with “incantations and spells written in Hebrew”.  After removing every one of the “symbols of witchcraft” she burned them in the fireplace until they were nothing but ashes.  As she related the story with a tone of disgust, I listened with clueless interest.  I was totally unaware that Jews put amulets on their doors in the way she described.  The entire thing seemed scary and bizarre, and I admired her for taking quick action against such superstition and wickedness.

 Little did I realize or could ever imagine, that in less than five years time I would affix such “amulets” upon the entry doors of my own home, not as a means of warding off evil spirits through secretly written Hebrew incantations and spells, but as a means of keeping the commandment to write the words of G-d upon the doorposts of my house. A symbol of faith in G-d’s word rather than fear of what might lie outside my door.  Although I have lost contact with my friend, I couldn’t help but think about how she would react to see a mezuzah attached to my front door, and the fear and disgust it would surely produce to witness such a Jewish symbol on the home of a fellow Christian.

 During this vacation week I also enjoyed the luxury of extended study time.  With the fast of the 17^th of Tammuz occurring on Thursday I found myself reading extensively about the Three Weeks, Tisha B’av and the destruction of the first and second Temples that is commemorated during this mournful time of year.  Quite unexpectedly I found myself considering the topic of fear at the very heart of it all.  

 The Jerusalem Talmud (Yoma 1:1) states;

In every generation in which the Temple is not rebuilt, it is as if it was destroyed in its days

 From this the sages understand that every generation in which the Temple is not rebuilt is responsible for its destruction because the same sins that caused the initial destruction have not been fully repented of.  The Babylonian Talmud (Yoma 9b) explains that the sin which caused the destruction of the second Temple was “baseless hatred”.  Although the gross sins of idol worship, immorality and bloodshed were the cause of the destruction of the first Temple, the sages ponder the fact that the first Temple was reconstructed within 70 years of its demise while the second Temple has not been rebuilt for almost 2000 years.  From this it is deduced that the generation of the first Temple was better or more righteous than the generation of the second Temple for the first Temple was reconstructed fairly quickly while the second Temple has not been rebuilt for nearly two millennia.  In this way Israel has not merited the rebuilding of the Temple to this day. 

 After explaining in detail the idol worship, immorality and bloodshed that “filled Jerusalem” due to the generation of the first Temple, the chazal remarkably go on to say that “they were wicked but they placed their trust in the Holy One, blessed be He”.  The matter of trust (bitachon) was the difference between the generations of the first and second Temples. A lack of trust was the cause of the second Temple destruction and also the cause of its failure to be rebuilt.  Although the generation of the first Temple committed incredibly wicked and gross sins they yet are understood to have maintained a trust in G-d.  The generation of the second Temple, who were very strict about keeping the mitzvot and also very charitable, are yet described as not having trust in HaShem.  How can this be? 

 Bitachon (trust) is a popular topic in Mussar (Jewish character development) literature.  In general, the characteristic of trust encompasses two qualities; a. belief that G-d will provide b. belief that nothing happens by chance. [1] Although life circumstances and opportunities come from the hand of G-d a person of trust recognizes that in all circumstances, both good/pleasing and bad/challenging, that there is a greater godly purpose (and opportunity) behind it all.  

 The Chazon Ish explains the concept of bitachon in the following parable;

In a small town, a man once opened a small grocery store directly across the street from another grocery.  As soon as the old grocer saw the sign in the window announcing the opening, he went across the street and met the new merchant.  He shook hands and welcomed him warmly, then sat down and taught him all the tricks of the trade.  When other merchants asked why the grocer had been so nice to his competitor he answered with a well-known Talmudic saying; “All sustenance of a person is determined for him from New Year to New Year.  Only HaShem can take it away”.  In other words, there’s nothing to worry about.  What will be will be.  [2]

 At the very heart of trusting HaShem is a lack of fear as displayed by the example of the grocer above.  One can help and aid his fellow without fear that he will ultimately hurt himself for all sustenance is from HaShem. Fear and trust cannot reside in the heart at the same time.  A heart that fears cannot trust and also cannot love.  Love presupposes trust for one cannot love that which he does not trust.  If love requires trust than hatred requires distrust, a person hates another person because he cannot trust them.  

With this in mind the contrast of the generations of the first and second Temples can be understood. The generation of the first Temple committed horrendous outward sins, but inwardly they still trusted their fellow Jew and maintained a love for their people Israel.  Although their outward actions were reprehensible they did not fear their fellow brothers or view them as a threat.  Despite the moral degeneracy all around them they still believed that G-d was among them (Yoma 9b).  In this way in the midst of the most sinful behavior they maintained a trust in G-d.  

The generation of the second Temple outwardly maintained an appearance of strict righteousness, of devotion to the mitzvot and giving to charity, yet their hearts were filled with fear and distrust of their fellow brothers and such insecurity caused them to hate each other as expressed through quarreling, bickering and infighting.  The reality of such fear is evidenced in the gospel accounts where the leaders are repeatedly said to fear the people and to fear Yeshua.  

 Perhaps the most revealing example of this is seen in Yeshua’s teaching surrounding the cleansing of the Temple as described in Mark 11:17-18;

And he was teaching them and saying to them, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” And the chief priests and the scribes heard it and were seeking a way to destroy him, for they feared him, because all the crowd was astonished at his teaching.  (ESV, emphasis mine)

 Instead of reacting like the righteous grocer in the parable of Chazon Ish, the Jewish leaders feared Yeshua as dangerous competition. They feared how his influence would affect them and did everything they could to undermine this fellow Jew who was heralded as a prophet by many and whose teachings were being taken seriously.

 Ironically, the verse from Isaiah that Yeshua referenced in Mark 11:18 is contained in the haftarah of Isaiah 55:6-56:8 read during the afternoon service on the fast of Tammuz 17 and the 9^th of Av.  As Jews all over the globe contemplate five tragedies that occurred on 17 Tammuz and enter into a three week time of increasing sadness and repentance that culminates with the fast of the 9^th of Av (the day in which both first and second Temples were completely destroyed), the following verses are considered;

 Let not the foreigner who has joined himself to the LORD say, “The LORD will surely separate me from his people” . . . .  

 “And the foreigners who join themselves to the LORD, to minister to him, to love the name of the LORD, and to be his servants, everyone who keeps the Sabbath and does not profane it, and holds fast my covenant– these I will bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer; their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”  (Isaiah 56:3, 6-7 KJV).

 Traditionally it is understood that Yeshua’s cleansing of the Temple was in response to the buying and selling that was occurring in the court of the Gentiles which hindered and distracted people of the nations in praying to and worshipping HaShem. Yet, how would such actions and teaching have amazed the crowds and caused the leaders to fear him to the point of wanting to destroy him?  

 The leaders were certainly not threatened by the Gentiles in the outer court, totally distanced from the Temple itself by the wall called the “soreg” which contained the warning that any Gentile treading beyond it or too close to the Temple itself would suffer the penalty of death. The crowd (presumably mainly Gentiles) would not have been in awe of a man who bullied some of the merchants so that the large courtyard might be a more reverent and quiet spot to pray.  For in reality the actual worship and sacrifices took place behind the massive walls of the Temple complex itself making it impossible for anyone in the outer courtyard to see or hear what was going on there, no matter how quiet or reverent the atmosphere in the court of the Gentiles may have been.

 The teaching that awed the people of the nations and caused the leaders to fear was Yeshua’s referring to the court of the Gentiles as a “den (cavern) of robbers”.  Like a cavern, the court of the Gentiles was a large enclosed place, a courtyard of approximately 20-30 acres that closed off the Temple completely from direct participation by the Gentiles.  A place that robbed the foreigners of the nations, who joined themselves to HaShem, from participating in worship and offering of sacrifices directly, a contradiction to Isaiah 56:3, 6-7.  What astounded the crowd and panicked the leaders was Yeshua’s teaching that believing people of the nations had the right to worship along with Israel in the Temple proper and to prohibit them from this was likened to spiritual thievery.  This truth is also reiterated by Paul in Ephesians 2:11-16. 

Incredibly at the heart of Yeshua’s teaching and the heart of 17 Tammuz and Tisha B’av are the admonitions of Isaiah 56.  Year after year observant Jews all over the world lament the sin of baseless hatred that still plagues the rebuilding of the Temple, and contemplate numerous and varied suggestions as to what a lack of trust in HaShem truly involves.  They desperately desire to repent and to see the Temple rebuilt.  But could it be that contained in the very words of the haftarah chosen by the sages for such occasions is hidden the key to repentance, the heart of baseless hatred, and difficulty in trusting G-d regarding the rightful place of foreigners who have attached themselves to HaShem?

 In like fashion, year after year as the Jews lament and mourn the Christians feel sad but generally believe that the destruction of the Temple is G-d’s punishment upon them for rejecting the Messiah.  The idea of personal responsibility or remorse regarding the Temple’s reconstruction is absolutely foreign to them.  Messianic Jews who desire to identify with and uphold Israel may pray, mourn and even fast along with those they relate to as brothers but taking personal responsibility for the Temple not being rebuilt is generally overlooked or not considered.

 Yet, Yeshua’s teaching in Mark 11 not only had a fearful affect on the Jewish leaders but astounded those who were relegated to the courtyard. The words of Isaiah 56 are not only meant for the Jew but also for the foreigner who attaches himself to HaShem.  For a Gentile to consider himself to be separated from Israel and her worship and her Torah while still believing in HaShem is a form of reverse baseless hatred toward their adopted family and a lack of trust in G-d Himself. How astounding to consider that believers of the nations are also accountable for the Temple not being rebuilt for nearly 2000 years, based on the words of the Messiah himself.

 . . . . . . . . .

 As I finished describing the purpose of the mezuzah to my parents they smiled and agreed that having a mezuzah was “a very nice thing”.  Without further comment about it they kissed me good-bye and walked out of the door.  As they left I contemplated what my parents would say if I were to suggest that as believers in G-d and His Messiah they should have mezuzot on their doors too and that not doing so is to disregard their rightful spiritual heritage.  Without a doubt they would be astounded at my boldness and presumed legalism.

I thought about my friend at her housewarming party and the sad fact that millennia of errant teaching and doctrine that Christians are separate from G-d’s people Israel caused her to be completely ignorant and fearful of a beautiful and practical symbol of faithfulness and trust in G-d’s word.  How astounded she would be to realize that the words of Scripture, including the greatest commandment of all as given by Yeshua himself, were incinerated in her fireplace that fateful day.

But perhaps the most astounding thing that has crossed my path regarding baseless hatred and general ignorance surrounding repentance and the Temple destruction, was a postcard that came in the mail a week ago, announcing a free concert to be held at a local Messianic synagogue on Friday and Saturday (July 10^th and 11^th).  A popular recording artist was to perform and the public was invited to join in an “amazing and joyful time of worship, praise and celebration”.  

As religious Jews throughout Northeastern Ohio begin to observe a three week time of sadness and contemplation in preparation for Tisha B’av, by refraining from joyful activities such as haircuts, purchasing new clothing and listening to music, those who stringently hold to their Jewish heritage as believers in Yeshua will be dancing and singing and celebrating joyfully in a neighboring town!  As the Orthodox Jew contemplates a somber haftarah on Shabbat, the first of three which speak seriously of G-d’s judgment and punishment, the Messianic Jew will sit back and enjoy the words of popular songs set to light and cheerful worship music.  

 What a sad reality this paradox represents. A fear to be faced during these Three Weeks and a reality summed up so clearly in the very words of Yeshua himself regarding the destruction of the temple in Matthew 24;

 And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. . . And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold.

(Mat 24:10 & 12 ESV)

 

 

[1]  Alan Morinis, Everyday Holiness, Trumpeter (Boston & London), 2007, pp. 212, 213.

 

[2] Chazon Ish, as cited in Alan Morinis, ibid, p. 216.

Talking to the Moon

 May it be the will before You, HaShem my G-d and the G-d of my forefathers to fill the flaw of the moon, that it not be diminished in any way. And may the light of the moon be like the light of the sun and like the light of the seven days of Creation as it was before its diminishment, as it is said:  The two luminaries that are great.   And may there be fulfilled in us the verse that is written:  They shall seek HaShem their G-d and David their king. Amen.  (Schottenstein Edition Siddur for Weekdays)

 As I finished making Kiddush Levanah, for the very first time, on a most lovely summer’s night, I took a few minutes to stand quietly on my front porch and admire the sight of the waxing crescent moon.  As my attention was turned toward the western sky, my head covered with a prayer veil, and my Siddur clutched against my chest, my daughter came out to the porch.  “What are you doing?” she asked with a quizzical look.  When I explained that I had just prayed a prayer for the sanctification of the moon she replied “Oh, so you’re talking to the moon now?”  Taking off my head covering and putting my siddur aside, I sat down with her to talk.  

 As we swayed back and forth upon comfortable southern-style rocking chairs, I briefly explained Rosh Chodesh and the ensuing Talmudic tradition of sanctifying the moon (Kiddush Levanah).  I shared with her the beauty of the waxing and waning moon and its unassuming yet consistent monthly testimony of renewal and rebirth and how such things allude to the Messianic Age and the resurrection from the dead in which all things will be renewed.  I also related the fact that we as women are most privy to such monthly phenomenon through the monthly menstrual cycle.  With a smile on her face she patted my hand and said “Mom, sometimes I wonder if you aren’t going a little bit crazy”.  

 Ironically, similar thoughts had entered my mind as I finished the final section of parashah Eikev this past week. In Deuteronomy 10 after relating how he had carved out and received a second set of tablets, and interceded on Israel’s behalf for HaShem’s mercy (due to the sin of the Golden Calf), Moses then admonishes the people in light of G-d’s reconciliation toward them;

 Now, O Israel, what does HaShem, your G-d, ask of you?  Only to fear HaShem, your G-d, to go in all His ways and to love Him, and to serve HaShem, your G-d, with all your heart and will all your soul. (Deuteronomy 10:12, Stone Chumash)

 At face value this verse seems quite beautiful and inspiring. What a worthy goal Moses put forth for the Children of Israel.  Yet, in this verse the Sages contemplate a problem, one which seems more than “a little bit crazy”.  In Talmud, Berachot 33b, the Sages deduce (based on Deuteronomy 10:12) that “everything is in the hand of heaven but the fear of heaven”.  “Fear” as used in 10:12 is the Hebrew word yir’ah (יִרְאָה), which can mean both “fear” and/or “awe” based on context.  Yir’ah also describes various levels of fear that are often found in classic Mussar (Jewish ethical/character development) teachings.  [1]

The lowest or most inferior level is called “yirat ha’onesh”; this is fear of G-d’s punishment for sin.  The next level is “yirat chet” which simply means “fear of sin” and is understood to be a higher level in which one is actually repulsed by sin (not simply afraid of the punishment for it). The highest level of yir’ah is “yirat shamayim” or “fear of Heaven”, this is fear directly related to HaShem (referred to metaphorically as “Heaven”), and is best understood as “awe”.  [2]

 This highest level of fear is that spoken of in Deuteronomy 10:12 where yir’ah is directly related to יי (the Sacred Name/Tetragrammaton).  Yet, in the plainest reading Moses is understood to be saying that Israel should “only” fear HaShem or “merely” fear Him, in a way that suggests this highest level of awe for the Almighty is easy or natural.   How are we to understand this? Something that seems a “little bit crazy”, to say the least.

Several explanations are given in Rabbinic literature including that yirat shamayim was a “small thing” for Moses (the opinion of R. Hanina in Talmud) or that it was “easy” for the generation of Israel in the Wilderness as they daily experienced G-d’s supernatural presence (Kli Yakar).  As for individuals today, such awe and fear of G-d is a difficult state to achieve.  

Yet, in the book of Ecclesiastes, after considering the details and futility of life, the wise king Solomon concludes;

The sum of the matter, when all has been considered:  Fear G-d and keep His commandments, for that is man’s whole duty. (12:13 Stone Tanach). 

“Man’s whole duty” is also understood to speak of the “whole of man” (kol ha’adam). Many commentators (including Rashi, Rambam, and IbnEzra) insist from Ecclesiastes that yirat shamayim is nothing less than the very essence and purpose of a human being.  The idea that “everything is in the hand of heaven except the fear of heaven” expresses this understanding.  Because human beings have free will we are free to adopt pious or impious attitudes, to choose to be righteous or to be wicked.  

Of all things that a person acquires during his life, G-d, so to speak, stores only one thing in His “treasury” – a person’s fear (awe) of Him.  G-d isn’t impressed with wealth or career achievements or material accomplishments because none of those things are directly and independently man’s doing, for G-d alone gives each individual the ability and opportunities to succeed.  There is only one area in which man has the completely free choice to accomplish and therefore be recognized by HaShem; in the matter of whether or not to fear Him.  [3]

If yirat shamayim is truly man’s only independent and completely will-driven opportunity for accomplishment before G-d, why then is it understood as being very difficult to achieve?  In the classic work God in Search of Man, Abraham Joshua Heschel spends an entire chapter considering the topic of “Awe”.  Heschel summarizes the concept of awe as being “the sense of wonder and humility inspired by . . . the presence of mystery” [4] and also as; “an act of insight into a meaning greater than ourselves” [5] In Heschel’s view “awe precedes faith” and is the very “root of faith” making “awe” the most fitting definition of “religion” [6].  

When facing mystery, man alone has the ability to contemplate and research in order to discover answers or meaning.  The term “mystery” itself presupposes intellect and rationalization in order to recognize it as such.  It is the glory of God to conceal a thing: but the honor of kings is to search out a matter (Proverbs 25:2, KJV).

In searching out answers and meaning there must yet remain the inspiration of recognizing something greater behind it all. When this greater meaning is not considered and awe is forfeited in human life, according to Heschel, the universe becomes nothing more than a “marketplace”. [7] Life becomes a commodity and the mysteries and wonders of the universe become little more than interesting “window dressing”.  A general sense of wonderment or pleasure is experienced without any consideration of an infinitely grander scheme.

In a simplified sense “shopping” is easier than “thinking” and admiring is preferred over contemplating.  Perhaps this is why yirat shemayim is both easy and difficult, why Moses described it as “merely” something to be done.  For mankind has the ability and completely unhindered opportunity to choose regarding awe inspiring experiences of life, but yet the evil inclination will always draw us toward following the easiest path.

During the Shabbat prior to Rosh Chodesh (Head of the Month) the day and time of the upcoming new month is announced.  This announcement is called molad or “birth”.  Before announcing the molad a blessing of the new month (Birkat HaChodesh) is recited.  In this blessing both yirat shamayim  and yirat chet are referred to, as one prays that HaShem would grant us a life in which there is “fear of Heaven” and “fear of sin”.  Yet, perhaps the most interesting aspect of the Birkat HaChodesh is the fact that yirat shamayim is referred to twice; once in the middle of the prayer and once toward its conclusion. In this way this prayer emphasizes the fear of Heaven more directly perhaps than any other prayer of the Siddur.  Why is it that an awesome fear of Heaven is most closely related to the moon?

The topic of the moon is one that is filled with mystery in the mind of the Sages.  In Talmud, Chullin 60b, a quandary is considered regarding the account of the moon’s creation in Genesis 1:16;

 And G-d made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also. (Gen 1:16 KJV)

Although the verse begins by stating that two equally great lights were created, it then progresses to explain that one of the lights was greater than the other.  The great one (sun) ruled by day and the lesser one (moon) ruled by night.  This presents a mystery, for how and why was one of the great lights (the moon) diminished? 

Through a series of midrashic stories regarding how the moon complained to HaShem about the inability for “two kings to share one crown” and was thereby commanded by G-d to decrease itself, the Sages explain that in this present created order two equally great lights cannot exist together.  The monthly presentation of a sin offering “unto HaShem” on Rosh Chodesh (as given in Numbers 28:15) is understood to be speaking of a sin offering that is brought on behalf of G-d to atone for His commanding the moon to diminish.   

Although this is a shocking conclusion, it is based on a Kabbalistic principle that “the final outcome was the original thought”. [8] That the original principles found in the creation account will be the final outcome of existence for the created universe. Because HaShem’s first thought was to cause the sun and moon to be “co-sovereigns” this original vision is destined to be the end of their shared journey. [9]   In this way the monthly sin offering “for HaShem” atones for the diminishment of the moon.

In a passage listing the promised blessings of the Messianic Age Isaiah prophecies; the light of the moon will be as the light of the sun (Isaiah 30:26 KJV). The time is coming when the moon and sun will be co-sovereigns again.  How this will play out and what it will look like specifically is a mystery.  Yet, every month as the moon transitions from complete darkness to complete brightness the message of this mystery ushers forth again and again.  At the first sliver of light the new month (Rosh Chodesh) is heralded and Kiddush Levanah (sanctification of the Moon) takes place when the moon is still waxing (growing bigger).  How fitting to pray, as one witnesses the moon progressing in brightness, that HaShem will cause its light to equal that of the sun.  

Perhaps the Birkat HaChodesh emphasizes twice the fear of Heaven (yirat shamayim) because the cycle of the moon presents us with two opportunities to stand in awe of a natural phenomenon that represents an infinitely grander scheme.  As the absent moon begins to perceptibly shine once more (at the new month) the hope of renewal is realized.  As the brightening moon is considered the reality of progressive and full renewal is witnessed.  Both phenomenon inspire awe and give opportunity to contemplate a meaning greater than ourselves.  

. . . . . .

As I took in the humorously sarcastic words of my young adult daughter in light of my explanations and insights regarding Rosh Chodesh and Kiddush Levanah, I found myself filled with patience and understanding.  For when she was 18 years old and a freshman in college I began to keep Shabbat and study the “Hebraic roots” of the faith.  During her upbringing in Evangelical churches and Christian schools, her mother had been a staunchly conservative Calvinist who taught a well-known local ladies Bible study.  To watch my transformation into Torah observance has been little less than witnessing her mother become a Jewess.  This transformation hasn’t been comfortable or easy and is often misunderstood.  After five years reality is starting to sink in.  This isn’t merely just a “fad” or “curiosity” for me.  It is a lifestyle and a life-long pursuit.

So, what more could a young woman say to this, but jokingly wonder about her mother’s sanity?  In response I asked my daughter to look at the moon.  As we both gazed toward the west the sight was lovely, the moon being lightly enshrouded by wispy cirrus clouds that acted as a delicate transparent veil around it.  “Isn’t it beautiful”?  I questioned. When she answered “yes” I asked her “why”, “why do you think it is beautiful”?  “I don’t know” she said “it just is”. 

I then asked her to think about why the moon is considered inspirational and beautiful to people all over the world, all throughout the centuries. Why is it that the moon is considered romantic, that poems and songs have been written about it, that people feel drawn to admire it?  “Because G-d created it, I suppose” was her answer.  But G-d also created dirt and worms and many other things that people don’t admire or find inspirational, so what is so special about the moon?  “I don’t know” she said, throwing up her hands.  “Think about what I just told you, for there’s method to my madness” I answered with a wink.

Inevitably our conversation turned toward the happenings of daily life as we spent some time rocking and talking on the front porch on this warm June night. The moon which had been the center of attention was now relegated to the role of window dressing, at least for the time being, in the mind of my daughter.  But who knows, perhaps happening upon her mother “talking to the moon” will cause her to consider a mystery in a way she never has before.

  

[1]  Alan Morinis, Everyday Holiness, Trumpeter, Boston & London, 2007 p. 233

[2] Ibid.

[3]  Rabbi Moshe Weissman, The Midrash Says (Devarim), Bnay Yakov, New York, 2005, pp. 138-139.

[4] Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 1976, p. 77.

[5] Ibid, p. 74.

[6] Ibid, p. 77.

[7] Ibid, p. 78.

[8] Sarah Schneider, Kabbalistic Writings on the Nature of Masculine and Feminine, A Still Small Voice, Jerusalem, 2007, p. 42.

[9] Ibid.

When a Break-Up is a Blessing

This past Shabbat as I sat at my desk and looked up from the Chumash I was reading, my eyes were drawn to the small calendar sitting on the window sill in front of me. Written on the date of June 20^th were the words “Lisa’s Wedding”.  My heart grew heavy as I was reminded of the fact that on this gloomy and rainy day I would not be attending a wedding as anticipated. 

“Lisa” is the youngest daughter of a very devout Christian couple who are good friends of mine.  This couple insisted that all three of their daughters attend the same conservative Christian college.  Their two older daughters both found very suitable and wonderful husbands through this college experience. A year ago when they announced the engagement of their youngest, Lisa, to a fine young man she had met at the college, the Christian experience of higher education seemed to be a fool proof way of providing yet another suitable spouse.

In early May my daughter and I attended Lisa’s bridal shower and just before leaving for the Shavuot Conference I submitted my reply regarding attending her wedding ceremony.  Upon returning home from the conference my daughter and I talked about what was “new” during the five days I had been away. With a somber tone she informed me that Lisa’s fiancée’ had called off the wedding. As she explained details regarding the fiancée’s decision tears began to stream down her face. 

This news seemed surreal and shocking.  Although I have known of people who have not gone through with a marriage, such a thing has never occurred to someone I have been close to, and certainly not to someone who was involved in what seemed to be a solid and G-d honoring Christian relationship.  Ultimately as the weeks have gone by and the sad news of the break-up discussed among friends and loved ones the same conclusion was reached by all; that it was a “blessing” for such a thing to occur before the wedding rather than after the vows were taken. 

Of course this most logical conclusion doesn’t make things any easier for Lisa or for those who know and care about her.  How fitting I thought, as I looked at the rain streaming down outside, that this day in which expected vows would not be made and heartfelt promises unfulfilled, should be a day in which the clouds would “weep” at the untold heartache of a young woman forlorn. 

In studying Deuteronomy 9 this past week, I found myself considering what is perhaps the most famous “break-up” to be found in Scripture.  For it is here that Moses reiterates the sin of the golden calf and his reaction to it upon descending Sinai.

So I turned and descended from the mountain as the mountain was burning in fire, and the two Tablets of the covenant were in my two hands.  Then I saw and behold! you had sinned to HaShem, your G-d; you made yourselves a molten calf; you strayed quickly from the way that HaShem commanded you.  I grasped the two Tablets and threw them from my two hands, and I smashed them before your eyes. (Deuteronomy 9:15-17, Stone Chumash)

In general, Moses actions are understood as justified.  Burning with righteous anger in witnessing the horrendous sin of the people before him, Moses threw the tablets to the base of the mountain, destroying them.  Yet, the Sages marvel at what Moses did, for the two tablets that he carried were those inscribed by the finger of HaShem Himself.  Various Midrashim describe these tablets (luchot) as much more than merely etched stone.  But rather as spiritual and heavenly creations that resembled sapphire, contained mysteriously suspended letters, and whose words could be read from both front and back sides.  Would Moses anger  justify destroying something so wondrous?  What right did Moses have for shattering something so holy?

According to the Midrash, the sin of the golden calf is likened to a bride playing the harlot while under the chuppah. [1] The giving of the Torah at Sinai is seen as the betrothal of HaShem to His people.  While the bride (Israel) is at the base of the mountain covered by the fire of HaShem’s presence (symbolic of the wedding canopy) she participates in gross unfaithfulness through worship of the golden calf. 

Moses in descending the mountain was bringing with him the tangible betrothal contract produced by HaShem Himself.  Although Moses had previously written down the commandments and judgments of HaShem and read this book of the Covenant to the people during the ratification of it in Exodus 24, at that point the agreement was merely a verbal one (we will do and we will hear).  The bride (Israel) had verbally agreed to become betrothed to the groom (HaShem). 

In Jewish tradition the betrothal must be sealed with something tangible.  Although a ring is the tangible component of betrothal today, in ancient times such agreements were often sealed with the exchange of money or with a written contract.  The luchot contained the written agreement between HaShem and the people.  Were Moses to present the tablets to the people, everything written upon them would automatically be legally binding.  The betrothal agreement would be sealed and the people would have place themselves in the position of an adulteress, for unfaithfulness within the betrothal arrangement is considered adultery.

Therefore, the Midrash says that Moses broke the tablets out of love and concern for the people.  In doing so he literally “tore up” the contract so it would not be binding upon them.  Moses knew that Israel would be punished for her sin.  Yet, instead of being judged as an unfaithful wife (adulteress) which demanded the death penalty, by not presenting the tablets to the people Moses hoped that HaShem would judge them more mercifully (as a “single woman”, rather than one bound to marriage via betrothal).  [2]

Interestingly, this Midrash finds support in what Moses describes in Deuteronomy 9:21.

 Your sin that you committed – the calf – I took and burned it in the fire, and I pounded it, grinding it well, until it was fine as dust, and I threw its dust into the brook that descended from the mountain. (Stone Chumash)

Although it is not mentioned here, the original episode of the golden  calf (Exodus 32:20) describes Moses insisting that the people drink the water containing the dust of the destroyed idol.  This process of drinking dust laden or “bitter” water is the same procedure used in determining if a woman suspected of adultery by her husband (called a “Sotah”), was guilty of sin or was innocent (Numbers 5).  If the woman was guilty, the drinking of the water would cause her to die; if she was innocent she would live. 

The Hebrew word for “dust” in this verse (aphar) (עֲפָרוֹ) is the same word used to describe the “dust” on the Tabernacle floor, placed in water and used for the Sotah procedure in Numbers 5:17.  Therefore in like manner as the Sotah, forcing the people to drink the water laced with the dust of the golden calf was a way of determining if the nation as a whole would be judged as an adulteress and deserving of death.  Because the Scripture only relates that the bitter water was ingested by the people, without any deadly results because of it (upon the nation as a whole), it would seem that Moses’ breaking of the luchot spared the nation from being judged in the manner of an adulterous (betrothed) wife. [3]  In this way the break-up was a blessing, for it was better that Israel not enter into a state of official betrothal with HaShem at this time (through the receiving of the tablets), than suffer the serious consequence (of death) for unfaithfulness after the tangible details were finalized.

Yet, another question is pondered by the Sages regarding Moses’ throwing and breaking of the luchot in Deuteronomy 9, for in v. 17, Moses describes that he “grasped” the two tablets prior to throwing them down.  If the tablets were already in Moses hands (v.15) then why does the Torah need tell us that Moses grasped them?

The Babylonian Talmud (Pesachim 87b) states; “when the two tablets were broken the letters flew up” (or vanished away).  From this it is understood that letters on the tablets soared upward back to their source in heaven.  The Jerusalem Talmud gives additional details regarding this (Taanit 4:5) by stating that when Moses descended the mountain and saw the spectacle of the golden calf, the letters then floated back to heaven causing the tablets to grow heavy in Moses hands.  Logically, one would think if the letters were removed that the tablets would grow lighter, not heavier.

The Ohr HaChaim (Devarim 9:17) conjectures that the heavenly quality of the first tablets caused them to literally float above Moses’ hands and that he didn’t actually physically hold on to them as he descended the mountain.  For in v. 15 which states; “the two Tablets of the covenant were in my two hands”; the literal Hebrew “al sh’tey yadai” (עַל שְׁתֵּי יָדָי) can be translated either “in my two hands” or “upon/above my two hands” as the prefix “al” (ayin-lamed) can mean both.  The Ohr HaChaim therefore understands that by using “al” in describing the placement of the tablets in relation to Moses’ hands that the tablets were “on” or “upon” his hands rather than literally “in” them. Upon seeing the sin of the golden calf the holiness of the tablets weakened, the letters floated back to heaven, the tablets became heavy, and Moses then needed to grab them with his hands to support them. 

In the Jerusalem Talmud (Shekalim 49d) the first tablets of the Law are described by Hananiah, nephew of Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah as; “(having) between each and every statement, distinctions and fine points, ‘studded like beryl’, like the Great Sea”. From this the Midrash understands that the first tablets contained not only what is known as the “Written Torah” but also the words of the Midrash and Talmud (Oral Torah). In this way the original tablets contained the basic instructions of the Torah as well as all the details (distinctions and fine points) necessary for its practical application in any possible situation. [4]

The letters that flew off of the tablets because of the sin of the golden calf were the distinctions and fine points of practical application, while the letters of general instruction remained.  The Gemara of Eruvin 54a (BT) states that if the luchot had not been broken, the Torah that was learned would never have been forgotten.  The general instructions as well as the details of application would have been easily understood and carried out perfectly. Because of the sin of the golden calf, the practical applications and finer details of Torah would not be written out and plainly understood, but instead “returned to heaven” and would be orally transmitted from one generation to the next.

When the “Oral Torah” (distinctions and fine points of application) was removed  and ascended back to heaven the tablets became “heavy” in Moses hand. The tablets were “light” when they contained and included every possible practical aspect for living out the mitzvot.  The “light” Torah was the “whole tablets” that could be easily learned, perfectly applied and never forgotten.  When the practical details and finer points were taken away and not part of the information that is plainly understood (in literal words) then the Torah became heavy.  Like the broken pieces of the luchot at the base of the mountain every little detail and practicality would have to be toiled with and wrestled over in order understand how they were to be applied or “fit together” in daily life.  Legal systems would have to be set up and Sages employed in order to determine just how each mitzvot was to be carried out in differing and variable circumstances.  This is the reality of the “heaviness” of Torah.

In contrast, Yeshua spoke of his “yoke” as being “easy” and his “burden” as “light”.  Those who would take on his yoke and learn from him would find “rest” for their souls (Matthew 11:29-30), as opposed to the “heavy” burdens placed upon the shoulders of the people by the Pharisees who “sit in Moses’ seat” (Matthew 23:4).  These verses are generally understood as proof that those who believe in and follow Yeshua are no longer under the heavy burden of the Law (Old Testament), and especially not the legalistic and burdensome halachah of the Pharisees (aka Rabbinic Judaism).  Because Yeshua fulfilled the Law his disciples have a much lighter and easier “yoke” to bear.  He is gentle and understanding of their failings and inabilities and therefore has taken the impossibly heavy yoke of Torah upon himself for them.

Yet, in the most practical and greatest sense, Yeshua’s disciples and the world in general will learn from him in the Messianic age.  At that time the Law will go out from Zion and the Word of the L-RD from Jerusalem and all nations will learn the ways of HaShem and will “walk in His paths” (Isaiah 2:3).  Instead of understanding Yeshua as doing away with Torah for his disciples, and therefore making things easier or lighter for them, could it be that he was speaking of the time when his reign over and teaching of the whole world will result in the practical aspects of Torah being understood clearly and carried out perfectly?  A time in which Torah will not be forgotten and a man will not have to teach his neighbor to “know the L-RD” for they will know Him?

The easy and light yoke that Yeshua is speaking of has to do with the Messianic age. The entire chapter of Matthew 11 has this future time in mind. Beginning with John the Baptist’s question regarding Yeshua as “the one who is to come” (i.e. the Messiah) to Yeshua’s “woes” upon Chorazin and Bethsaida regarding the future judgment they will face. It is in this context that Yeshua expounds upon his yoke being easy and his burden being light.   A time in which Torah will be perfectly taught and expounded upon and will not be forgotten.  A time in which the soul will find “rest” regarding the finer details and practical applications of the mitzvot, instead of struggling through the current legal processes which result in various viewpoints, volumes of opinions and endless and heavy points of detail. 

This present reality is that the Pharisees “sit in Moses’ seat” and are to be listened to.  The application of the written Torah is a process of heaviness and struggle to determine proper application based on the authority of men.  In the Messianic age, the reign of Yeshua will make living out Torah light and clear.  In this sense, the broken tablets will be made “heavenly” once again and blessing will no longer be found in that which is broken, but rather in that which is whole.

. . . . . . . . .

As the day came to an end on the longest Shabbat of the year, the time of the summer solstice, with sunset being 9:04 pm — the rain stopped, the clouds broke and a beautiful golden  sunset was in view. As I watched the sun setting from my kitchen window I noticed a stack of papers on the adjacent counter.  Among the various receipts and mailings was Lisa’s wedding invitation.   

I picked up the invitation and looked at it. I thought how lovely it was, printed on rich cream vellum with a torn edge of gilded gold and a delicate bow at the top. It was my intention to frame this invitation in the way I have done for other wedding invitations received in the past.  Using pressed flowers from my perennial garden and applying them decoratively around the invitation, such a framed gift has always been appreciated as a memorable keepsake by newlyweds throughout the years.

Yet, this invitation would not be framed and would not become a keepsake.  This invitation would be discarded without special consideration. As I placed it in the trash curiously I didn’t feel sad, but instead a sense of trust and hope welled up in me.  For just as the gloomy day on which a wedding did not take place, ended with a brilliant sunset.  So, I was certain that a beautiful young woman who is heartbroken today will yet see brighter days ahead.  

As the day turned to night and I looked forward to Havdalah I couldn’t help but thank HaShem for break-ups which are blessings and means of protection, no matter how painful and unexpected, for those who are His.

 

[1] Rabbi Moshe Weissman, The Midrash Says (Devarim),  2005 Bnay Yakov Publications, New York, pp. 131-132.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid., p. 133

[4] A.J. Heschel, Heavenly Torah (As Refracted Through the Generations), 2007, Continuum, New York/London, pp. 542-543.

Being Mindful of the Shema

Last Sunday at 9:00 pm I was sitting in an airplane looking upon a most beautiful sight from the window seat I occupied.  As the plane traveled from the north, toward the direction of the airport to the south, the blue waters of Lake Erie were visible and the shoreline of Northeastern Ohio stretched out in the distance under cloudless sapphire skies above.  Making its final descent the skyline of downtown Cleveland came into view, glowing with the luminescence of the setting sun to the west.  I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful way to end a most memorable trip.

For the previous five days I had the opportunity to attend the First Fruits of Zion annual Shavuot Conference in Hudson, Wisconsin.  Although meeting new people and sitting under excellent teaching sessions was certainly an honor and joy, the highlight of the trip for me was experiencing the worship at Beth Immanuel Sabbath Fellowship.  My first taste of this occurred on the initial night of the conference, Wednesday evening, with Ma’ariv prayer.   As the congregational Siddurs were passed out and I turned to the appropriate section, the familiar liturgy of the evening prayer service lay before me.  Having attended two Messianic congregations and in using the Orthodox Siddur for personal prayer, I thought myself to be fairly familiar with the details of Ma’ariv.    

But as the praying started I quickly realized that I would have to be more “mindful” than I anticipated.  The prayers, although familiar and spoken mainly in English, were sung to trope (cantillation melodies) that I was totally unfamiliar with.  As I tried to listen to and mimic the melodies being sung while praying the words at a very fast pace, I found myself falling woefully behind the leading of the chazzan.  As we came to the Shema I placed my right hand over my eyes and listened intently.  Of all the prayers this was one I wanted to be most mindful of.  A sigh of relief was felt in my heart as the trope being sung was the familiar melody I was accustomed to.  I sang out the Shema quickly, accurately and in perfect harmony with others in the sanctuary.  It was the only prayer of the evening in which I didn’t stumble or fall behind. : )

After such an interesting and beautiful experience of worshipping with  Messianics from all over the United States and Canada, I was delighted to find myself studying the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4-9) as part of my Torah reading this past week.  Although there are literally “volumes” written on every conceivable aspect of these verses, after going through my initial studying there was one question on my mind that I realized would not be answered or even conjectured by the rabbinic commentators I normally look to for insight and inspiration.

In the synoptic Gospel accounts which speak of the Shema a most unusual addition appears.  Not only is it said that one should love the L-RD with all their heart, soul and strength, but also with one’s mind. 

Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. (Matthew 22:37-38 KJV, emphasis mine)

 And Jesus answered him, The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord: And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment.  (Mark 12:29-30 KJV, emphasis mine)

 And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? He said unto him, What is written in the law? How readest thou?

And he answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself. And he said unto him, Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live. (Luke 10:25-38 KJV, emphasis mine)

 How is this to be understood based on the literal account of Deuteronomy 6:5 in which Moses admonishes Israel to love HaShem with all their “heart”, “soul” and “resources”? 

One’s “heart” (Hebrew “lev” לֵב) apart from having anatomical connotations in Torah, is also understood to express the inner life of feeling and thought. Regarding the inner workings of man, the “heart” encompasses the seat of the emotions and the intellect.  [1]

In Deuteronomy 6:5 the literal Hebrew for loving G-d with “all your heart” is “b’khol-l’vavkha” (בְּכָל-לְבָֽבְךָ). Although the subject of this mandate is an individual person (second personal singular) the word for heart is spelled in the plural, using two “vav’s” (levav) instead of just one (lev). 

In the Babylonian Talmud, Mishnah Berachot 54a,  Chazal explain that to love G-d with all one’s heart “levavkha” (plural)  speaks of loving Him with two impulses (represented by the two “vavs”); the evil impulse as well as the good impulse.  The good impulse or “Yetzer Tov” is the human capacity for spirituality; for G-d consciousness which the animals do not possess.  It is the impulse to be “godly” and to desire what is spiritual.  The evil impulse or “Yetzer Ra” involves desires of the “flesh” or purely physical and base drives found in all the animal kingdom (such as the drive for food, shelter and procreation). 

The Yetzer Ra in itself is not sin or sinful.  It is part of who we are, and without such drives mankind would cease to exist.  These physical desires and drives are called “evil” in the sense that they are beneath man’s capacity; for such desires alone do not fully satisfy man’s creative purpose.  To live one’s life with desires, aspirations and goals shaped merely by what is physical and self gratifying is to live on a plane consistent to animals.  Man alone has the capacity to sanctify the mundane and to elevate the most basic drives by imbuing them with spiritual qualities.

Therefore, to love HaShem with all one’s heart(s) is not only doing and obeying what I know to be good and right and according to G-d’s will, but also being mindful to sanctify that which is purely mundane and physical.  For example: I can go to McDonald’s drive-through, pick up a quarter-pounder with cheese value meal and eat it as I travel down the road.   By doing this I satisfy the basic desire for food and fill my stomach.  I give in to the base impulse to satiate my hunger and nothing else.  In this way I am literally eating on the level of an animal.  Eating food that I prefer in a manner merely meant to fill me up.

However, if I take the time to sit down to a nicely prepared home-cooked kosher meal and say a bracha recognizing HaShem as providing the food.  If I eat slowly and savor each forkful and take time to appreciate the taste, texture and variety of what I am eating.  The entire experience of eating takes on a spiritual quality.  It is sanctified above the mundane.  By eating in this manner I remember and recognize G-d which turn the most basic desires of my heart toward Him. 

According to Rashi, to love HaShem with one’s “soul” (Hebrew: nephesh  נַפְשְׁךָ), in the most general sense, is to love Him with one’s life.  It is the willingness to sacrifice my literal life or even my life expectations and dreams in order to obey and serve G-d completely.  Yet, in the view of the Ramban, one’s soul in Deuteronomy 6:5 is speaking of the intellect which is very much connected to the heart.  In this way to love HaShem with one’s soul requires recognizing the impulses and desires of the heart and thinking about or contemplating them before making decisions and acting upon them. 

Lastly, to love HaShem with one’s “resources” is a bit tricky to understand, for in the literal Hebrew the word employed is “me’odekha”. This is me’od (מאד) in its noun form, which is difficult to translate as it is used in only one other place in scripture (2 Kings 23:25).  In the majority of cases in Torah me’od is used as an adverb and a few occasions as an adjective with the general meaning of “very, much, or greatly”.  Therefore me’odekha (the abstract noun extrapolated from me’od) means something like “muchness” or “plentitude”. [2] This is understood by the Rabbis as referring to the “plentitude” of material abundance, including wealth and possessions. Therefore, to love HaShem with one’s resources is to obey and follow Him over and above all wealth and personal possessions.

In the reiteration of the Shema in the synoptic Gospels, the three basics of “heart”, “soul” and “resources” (strength) are given.  In all three accounts “heart” is the Greek “kardia” (καρδία) which is used in the LXX to translate the Hebrew “lev” or “levav”.  “Soul” is the Greek “psuchē” (ψυχή) which translates “nephesh” in the LXX.  In the Mark 12 and Luke 10 accounts “strength” is the Greek “ischus” (ἰσχύς) which is used in LXX to translate Hebrew “me’od” (resources). 

Yet in all three accounts, an additional quality is given, the quality of “mind” based on the Greek word “dianoia” (διάνοια).  This word is used to translate several Hebrew words in the LXX including;

1. Lev/Levav (heart/hearts)
2. Binah (understanding; found just once in Daniel 2:21)
3. Gilullim (idols)
4. Machashavah (imagination, purpose or thought)
5. Kerev (inner part or midst)

Because the Greek word “kardia” is used in the Septuagint version of Deuteronomy 6:5 for the Hebrew “levavkha” (hearts) it can be assumed that dianoia (mind) is not meant to express this quality in the Gospel accounts.  “Binah” being a word found only one time in Torah and “gilullim” expressing the idea of idols, also are ill-suited definitions of dianoia in regard to the Shema.  That leaves “machashavah” and “kerev” as two possible understandings of “mind” as related to the Shema in the Gospel accounts.

The Strong’s Concordance gives the general understanding of dianoia as being “imagination, mind or understanding” which is in keeping with the Hebrew word “machashavah”. Yet, both “heart” (kardia/lev) and “soul” (psuche/nephesh) already include the ideas of imagination and understanding; the seat of the emotions and the seat of the intellect.  To understand loving HaShem with all one’s “mind” as being with all one’s understanding or imagination seems a redundant and unnecessary addition to the Shema found in Deuteronomy 6:5. 

In considering the Gospel accounts, a consistent theme is recognized.  For in all three accounts the Shema is presented in relation to discussions regarding the World to Come. In Matthew 22 and its parallel passage of Mark 12, Yeshua relates the commandment of the Shema immediately after denouncing the Sadducees lack of understanding and belief in the resurrection from the dead.  With the topic of the resurrection in mind, the Pharisees approach Yeshua regarding the greatest commandment of the Law.  In this context Yeshua speaks of loving HaShem with all one’s heart, soul, mind and strength.

In the Luke 10 account the same context is employed as a Torah scholar questions Yeshua regarding inheriting eternal life.  Again, the future World to Come is in mind. When the scholar asks Yeshua how to gain eternal life Yeshua asks him what he understands from the Law. 

Amazingly, the Torah scholar speaks of the Shema, in relation to inheriting eternal life, in the exact manner Yeshua did in speaking of the Shema in the context of the resurrection from the dead; as loving G-d not only with one’s heart, soul and strength, but also with one’s “mind” (dianoia).  Therefore, it would seem that both Yeshua and the Torah scholar understand the Shema to be the quintessential commandment related to the World to Come; the time of the resurrection from the dead and the inheritance of eternal life.

Daniel Lancaster, in presenting a two session lecture at the recent Shavuot Conference on The Temple Sect and The Heavenly Temple pointed out that the topic of the book of Hebrews is the World to Come (cf. 2:5). The better promises and New Covenant spoken of there are something future, something that Yeshua has initiated but that has not yet been realized.  The New Covenant is for the Messianic age and the World to Come (Olam Haba).  The Old Covenant encompassing the mitzvot of Torah and earthly Temple worship/sacrifices is for the Olam Hazeh (this present world). In this way Christ has already entered the World to Come (now in the heavenly sanctuary in the presence of G-d, at His right hand etc.) and believers will enter that same world and mode of existence (World to Come) at the resurrection from the dead.  [3]

In speaking of the New Covenant, Hebrews 8:8-10 quotes directly from Jeremiah (31:32 Hebrew Bible, 31:33 English Bible) relating the fact that at the time of the New Covenant (World to Come) HaShem will place His laws into one’s mind (dianoia) and write them on one’s heart (kardia).  Here again is seen the aspect of one’s mind in relation to the World to Come.

Looking at the actual Hebrew of Jeremiah 31:32 (H)/33(E) is very telling;

אֶת-תּוֹרָתִי בְּקִרְבָּם, וְעַל-לִבָּם אֶכְתְּבֶנָּה

I will put My law in their inward parts, and in their heart will I write it . . . (Jeremiah 31:32, Stone Chumash, emphasis mine)

The Hebrew for “inward parts” is the word “be’kirebam” (emphasized above) whose shoresh is the Hebrew kerev (qof, resh, bet/vet) (emphasized in red). The Septuagint translation of Jeremiah 31:32/33 (LXX 38:33) employs the Greek word “dianoian” to translate “be’kirebam” (inward parts) (emphasized in blue below). 

(LXX Jeremiah 38:33) ὅτι αὕτη ἡ διαθήκη ἣν διαθήσομαι τῷ οἴκῳ Ισραηλ μετὰ τὰς ἡμέρας ἐκείνας φησὶν κύριος διδοὺς δώσω νόμους μου εἰς τὴν διάνοιαν αὐτῶν καὶ ἐπὶ καρδίας αὐτῶν γράψω αὐτούς καὶ ἔσομαι αὐτοῖς εἰς θεόν καὶ αὐτοὶ ἔσονταί μοι εἰς λαόν

From this one can draw the conclusion that when “dianoia” (mind) is employed in relation to the New Covenant — the resurrection from the dead and state of eternal life in the World to Come — the meaning is that of “inward parts” (Hebrew kerev).  According to Brown Driver Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon, kerev has two senses of meaning; one which speaks of the entrails or “inner organs” of sacrifices on the altar, the other speaking of the inward faculty of “thought and emotion” within man.   The shoresh (root) ”krv”(qof, resh, vet) in the most literal sense means “close” and describes a intimate approaching or coming near, as in a man “approaching a woman” (for sexual intimacy). 

The Talmud (Pesachim 49b) describes the relationship formed between Israel and HaShem at Sinai and the inheritance of the Torah as a betrothal.  The betrothal is the legally binding agreement between a couple of the intention to marry. The betrothal period is a time of outward and practical preparations for marriage.  Not until the couple is married is an intimate oneness experienced, a total giving of lives to each other with nothing hidden or kept back.  In this way the betrothal is the superficial preparation period while the marriage is the intimate union of the two. In a metaphysical sense; in betrothal the “outer layers” of a couple’s soul is engaged, in marriage their core selves touch and bond. [4]  In Jewish eschatology, regarding G-d’s relationship with His people; the betrothal period is understood as the Olam Hazeh (present world) while the marriage is the Olam Haba. [5]

In this present world the Torah was given to Israel in order to prepare her for the World to Come.  Through Torah G-d’s people interact and have relationship with Him through superficial physical obedience to His given commands.  G-d and Israel relate in this present world through the mitzvot of Torah.  Every command is a choice incumbent upon one to obey or disobey.  The choices a person makes regarding G-d’s commands will determine the desires, goals and aspirations of his heart.  In choosing to obey G-d and to incorporate Torah principles into even the most physical, mundane and basic drives and duties of life, one will learn to love HaShem in both his desires (heart) and thinking (soul), with both his good inclination and evil inclination.  Although the soul is engaged in the keeping of Torah in this present world of Olam Hazeh, it is merely the “outer layers” that are involved.

In the World to Come HaShem will place Torah upon the very “inward parts” of his people.  Instead of a superficial relationship with Him through Torah, there will then be a most intimate relationship with HaShem. The Commentators write that every commandment will be instinctual knowledge that we will know and understand in the very essence of our being.  Because each person will know the Torah automatically and completely as part of their essential being, there will be no need for one to teach his neighbor to “know the L-RD”.  This is loving G-d with one’s “mind” (dianoia) in the sense of one’s innermost essence of both thought and feeling. A love which will be realized in the New Covenant, World to Come at the resurrection of the dead. 

Because the Gospels speak of the Shema to include loving G-d with all one’s “mind” (innermost essence) should Messianics then change the way they pray the Shema?  Should we include in its recital the idea of loving HaShem with all our “minds”?  In reading the Gospel accounts carefully it should be noted that the Shema spoken of in relation to the resurrection of the dead and the World to Come is stated as a commandment and not as a prayer.  In this way Deuteronomy 6:5 is understood to be the most all-inclusive command regarding loving HaShem in this world and the next.  A love that involves not only inner desires, intellect, life, and possessions but that also encompasses the very essence of the individual.

Yet, in praying the Shema the Rabbi’s understand that one “takes the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven” upon oneself.  A commitment to live according to Kingdom (World to Come) principles is what praying the Shema is about.  In this present life we are incapable of truly loving G-d with our minds; from “inward parts” which instinctually and completely understand and automatically do Torah, for Torah has not yet been placed by HaShem within our very essence, as this is something yet future.  Such an essential knowledge of Torah will destroy and do away with the evil inclination, an inclination we know and battle with every day in this present life.

Therefore in praying the Shema we pray from the standpoint and reality of this present life, the Olam Hazeh.  We take the yoke of the Kingdom upon us as much as we possibly can now, by loving HaShem with all our hearts, souls and resources.  While yet recognizing that this command holds within it the promise of a future in which our essence will be intimately involved with and instinctually serving the L-RD.

 . . . . . . . .

Although worshipping with the Sabbath Fellowship of Beth Immanuel started off with much stumbling and faltering, by the time Ma’ariv on Shabbat came around I found myself fairly acclimated to the worship style of the congregation.  After four days of communal worship, the trope was becoming familiar and the fast pace of praying anticipated.  

 Yet, being home now for more than a week and once again immersed in the everyday mundane existence of life and realities of attending a struggling and small Torah community, the beauties of the idyllic world of Hudson, Wisconsin have already started to fade.  Surely if I were to attend a Ma’ariv service at BI, even tonight, I would forget most of the trope I learned just a short while ago. 

But one melody has remained in my mind due to studying the Shema this past week.  A nice melody sung to Deuteronomy 6:7 “when we lie down and when we arise . . .we will discuss your statutes”.  From this verse is derived the halachah to pray the Shema twice a day, at night and in the morning.  Day is understood to represent the good and pleasant situations of life when things are working as intended.  Night represents the difficulties and challenges of life when chaos seems to reign. [6]

In prioritizing night before day the Scripture alludes to the fact that the Shema (taking on the yoke of Heaven) involves praising HaShem in all circumstances.  Whether things are good or bad, pleasant or terrible, one must never forsake his attachment to HaShem.  [7]

This also falls in line with loving G-d with one’s heart(s) because the evil inclination would cause one to desire to praise HaShem only when things are going well and selfish and physical desires and drives are satisfied.  By prioritizing “lying down” before “arising”, the Torah is showing that loving G-d involves channeling the Yetzer Ra and sanctifying it. 

This is truly what being mindful of the Shema is all about. A mindfulness set to a simple melody learned at a Messianic shul 800 miles away from my home.  What a beautiful gift indeed!

 

[1] Jewish Virtual Library entry; Heart, available at:  http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/judaica/ejud_0002_0008_0_08621.html

[2] Yehonatan Chipman, Hitzei Yehonatan Blogspot (Vaethanan, Rashi, July 2007), available at: http://hitzeiyehonatan.blogspot.com/2007/07/vaethanan-rashi.html

[3] Daniel Lancaster, Lectures on The Temple Sect and The Heavenly Temple (unpublished), FFOZ Shavuot Conference, Hudson, Wisconsin, May 31, 2009.

[4]  Sarah Schneider, Kabbalistic Writings on the Nature of Masculine & Feminine, A Still Small Voice, Jerusalem, 2007, p. 229

[5] Ibid.

[6] Rabbi Moshe Bogomilsky, Vedibarta Bam (Va’etchanan), available at:  http://www.sichosinenglish.com/books/vedibarta-bam/045.htm

[7] Ibid.

A Little Flexibility

This past Thursday evening, as I came home from work and sorted through the daily mail, the first thing that caught my eye was a postcard from the State of Ohio, notifying me that my driver’s license had expired on my past birthday.  Little did I realize that I had been driving with an expired license for more than six weeks as I was reminded that the penalty for doing so is a year’s suspension of driving privileges.

Although I have been a licensed driver since age 16, this was the first time I had forgotten about the expiration year.  Fortunately, my state is gracious enough to give a six month window of time to people like me.  So, on Friday morning I headed off to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles to have my license renewed. 

The process was one I have been through many times; writing a check made out to the State Treasurer, answering questions regarding previous felonies, imprisonments, and driving under the influence of alcohol or other “controlled substances”, and completing a vision test.  Each step went smoothly and with military precision.  Yet, in the final step of confirming my personal information(name, address, eye and hair color, organ donor status) I was asked the question; “has your height and weight remained the same”.  As a quick “yes” issued from my mouth, I found myself checked in my spirit. 

No doubt I still stand a full 5’9” in height, a truth quickly evidenced by the fact that I was taller than the two men in line behind me and the three women working behind the counter, despite the fact that I was wearing flats. Yet, the weight listed on my driver’s license is questionable.  It is the weight I listed back in 1985.  More than likely I’m a few pounds over that at this point.  But I never weigh myself and do not even own a scale.  I really don’t know my true weight at the moment, and am confident that I’m not more than 10-15 lbs. over what I weighed at age 24.  Certainly the State of Ohio would understand and be gracious about this, allowing me a little flexibility regarding such a minor detail. : )

In considering the opening chapters of parashah Va’etchanan this past week (Deuteronomy 3:23-4:49) I came upon a familiar verse that seemed to give absolutely no flexibility regarding the keeping of Torah;

“You shall not add to the word that I command you, nor shall you subtract from it, to observe the commandments of HaShem, your G-d, that I command you”. (Deuteronomy 4:2 Stone Chumash

Rabbinic commentators realize the apparent difficulty this verse brings in light of the numerous laws and halachah enacted via the Sages through the centuries.  What right do the Sages have to enact such laws, since Moses warned against bal tosif (adding to Torah) and bal tigra (subtracting from Torah)?   Numerous opinions and explanations have been offered among Judaism’s finest and well know rabbis. 

In the most basic sense Kli Yakar (Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim Luntschitz) understands this verse as a single imperative with lo tigra (you shall not subtract) being the explanation and logical outcome of lo tosif (you shall not add).  In adding to the Torah one naturally subtracts from it by undermining its authority and compromising its status of perfection.  [1] What is perfect cannot undergo adjustment for any deviation from perfection automatically renders the perfect imperfect.  The Sefer HaChinuch verbalizes the same truth by stating;

 “The Master Who commands us regarding Torah, may He be blessed, is absolutely perfect, and all His deeds and all His commands are perfect and good.  Adding to them is detraction; all the more so diminishing”. [2]

 The Midrash Rabbah illustrates this concept through the story of a person who borrowed the fine china and silverware of his neighbor when he entertained guests.  The next day, in returning what he had borrowed, he gave back double the amount.  For each dish borrowed he returned two, for every two spoons, he returned four.  His neighbor was amazed and questioned why the man was giving back more than was lent to him.  The man smiled and said; “when I brought your dishes and silverware into my home they became pregnant and gave birth”.

 At another time the man came to the neighbor and explained that he had the honor of entertaining the most prominent family in town.  For this special occasion he asked to borrow his neighbor’s beautiful silver candelabra.  The neighbor wholeheartedly agreed and looked forward to doubling his investment by getting back two candelabras the next day.

 Several days went by and the candelabra was not returned.  Going to the man’s home the neighbor asked when he could expect the candelabra to be given back.  The man sighed and said “I feel awful about this, but your candelabra had a heart-attack and died a couple of days ago”.  The angry neighbor called the man a thief.  “Do you think I’m such a fool, return my property at once!”

The man questioned his irate neighbor; “if you could believe that a dish or spoon had given birth, surely you must believe that your candelabra has died?” [3]

 In the same way when one believes that they can add to Torah in order to improve it and/or find personal benefit they will also can easily rationalize that not doing mitzvot is a possibility as well.

 How then can halachah be justified if additions diminish and adjustments compromise the Torah?  The answer to this dilemma is presented as Moses continues in chapter 4 of Deuteronomy.  After reminding the people of the real consequences of not following Torah, as witnessed by the death of 24,000 men who were seduced by Moabite women to worship the Baal of Peor, Moses goes on to admonish them to “safeguard” and “perform” the decrees and ordinances given to them by HaShem (v.6). 

Throughout Torah “safeguarding” is especially linked to the “decrees” of HaShem which in Hebrew are called HaChukim.  The Chukim are those commandments that are considered “super-rational”, that go beyond the basic logic and common sense of mankind, and that require obedience because “G-d says so” out of devotion to Him as Sovereign and King.  Because such commands (for example; the designations of clean and unclean animals, the prohibition of mixing wool with linen, and the laws regarding the ashes of the Red Heifer) are beyond human ability to rationalize or understand completely extra precautions must be taken in order not to transgress them.   Yet, in general, “safeguarding” is considered a necessary aspect of “performing” all of G-d’s commands.  Performing Torah  protection and caution due to human weakness and temptation. 

The commentators recognize this truth in the role of the Sages and their authority to institute laws. Such laws are meant as a means of building a “fence around Torah” in order to help the community avoid violating G-d’s commands.  The Rambam explains that in developing halachah the authorities must make it abundantly clear that they are not adding to Torah, but instead that they are endeavoring to safeguard it. Clear distinctions must be made between what Torah commands and what the Sages institute as safeguards. [4]

Such distinction is witnessed in both the ministry of Yeshua and of Paul.  In the Sermon on the Mount, Yeshua quotes several verses of Torah prefaced with the words “you have heard it said”.  In teaching his disciples regarding his personal safeguards for them in such areas as adultery and murder Yeshua specifically specifies “but I say to you”.  Paul as well in 1 Corinthians 7 distinguishes between marital commands given by HaShem by saying “not I, but the L-RD”, as opposed to safeguards he has instituted regarding marital relationships as “I, not the L-RD”. 

When personal safeguards are confused for Torah the ramifications can be serious. Adding to a mitzvah always detracts, whether from the status of the Torah itself or from another person’s understanding and focus.  Perhaps the greatest example of this is seen in the Genesis account of Adam and Eve.  Although HaShem had instructed Adam that they were not to eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, Adam instructed Eve that they should not even touch its fruit.  In doing this Adam neglected to distinguish between the mitzvah and the personal safeguard.  In Eve’s understanding both not eating and not touching were mitzvot given from HaShem. 

The Midrash says that the Serpent used Eve’s distorted understanding to provoke her to sin.  In realizing that Eve understood the safeguard of not touching the fruit as being a commandment from G-d, the Serpent gave her a hearty push causing her to lose her balance and brush up against the tree and its fruit. When she did not die or suffer harm, although she touched the fruit, her mind began to rationalize that eating of the fruit would be beneficial as well.

Therefore, although Moses allowed some flexibility regarding safeguards meant to keep one from transgressing Torah commands, a clear distinction must always be made between what is a Torah command and what is a fence around the command.But what about lo tigra; the prohibition of subtracting from Torah?  Is it ever allowable to do less than the Torah commands? Is there any flexibility in this? 

Toward the end of the chapter 4 after admonishing the Israelites to keep and safeguard Torah, to remember the supernatural giving of it at Sinai, and to be cautious about idolatry which will lead to exile from the Land, Moses set aside three cities of refuge on the eastern bank of the Jordan river (v. 41). 

The Sages wonder why Moses would do such a thing, for designating such cities at this time was merely a formality.  The cities of refuge could not be operational until the entire Promised Land was conquered and settled, some fourteen years down the road.  So, why bother designating cities at a time when the purpose for them could not be fulfilled?  Why didn’t Moses leave this project for Joshua to carry out at a later date?

The Midrash explains that there are two tzaddikim (righteous people) in Torah who exemplify the saying “one who cherishes the mitzvot constantly seeks more”.  One was David who refused to sit idly by after being told by HaShem that he would not build the first Temple in Jerusalem.  David instead did everything he could; from acquiring the necessary building materials, to purchasing the land for the Temple site, to regrouping the priests and Levites in anticipation of the service there, despite the fact that he would not see the Temple completed in his lifetime. [5]

In the same way, Moses did what he could in regard to the cities of refuge, although he would not see the fulfillment of this mitzvah.  Moses endeavored to do all that was possible to the best of his ability despite the limitations of his impending death and prohibition to enter the Promised Land.  In this way he did less than what Torah required and did not receive the credit of accomplishing the mitzvah in full.

Yet, from both the example of David and of Moses the Sages derive that it is better to do less than the Torah requires in the face of limitations and challenges, then to not attempt to do any part of a mitzvah at all.   

. . . . . . . .

Upon returning home from the BMV, I took my new driver’s license out of my wallet to take another look at it.  The picture –which typically is as flattering as an FBI mug shot — didn’t turn out too bad.  For some reason the camera angle was not up close in my face this time and the more distant shot helped ease the signs of aging found there.  Noticing the new expiration date of 2013, I quickly made note of this on my kitchen calendar, not wanting a repeat warning from the State of Ohio in four years time.  I also decided that when my license is renewed again, I will be as precise as possible regarding my current weight. Until then I am happy to have a little flexibility.

But when it comes to a Torah lifestyle I also need to be happy with a little flexibility. To be careful of imposing Torah fences and precautions, which I find necessary and helpful for my own personal weaknesses; upon others as if it was the “law” for everyone.  But more than that, like Moses, I find myself somewhat driven to seek out greater understanding and further obedience to HaShem despite personal challenges that limit some things for me at this time.  Yet, unlike Moses, I have the freedom to take on new situations that would alleviate certain limitations I currently face.  

The upcoming week presents an opportunity to consider G-d’s will regarding changes that might be ahead for me.  It is an exciting time and an uncertain time.  A venture which might be little more than a formality that will never come to fruition or one that might lead to fulfilling certain mitzvot to the fullest extent that I never would have thought was possible.

 

[1] Kli Yakar as cited in, Rav David Silverberg, Parashat Vaetchanan, available at:  http://www.vbm-torah.org/archive/salt-devarim/45-8vaetchanan.htm

[2] Sefer HaChinuch (paragraph 454) as cited in, Rabbi Avraham Fischer, Parshat Miketz (December 2005), available at:  http://www.ou.org/torah/ti/5766/miketz66.htm

 [3]Midrash Rabbah Bamidbar 12:3

 [4] Rambam, Laws of Rebels (2:9) as cited in, Rabbi Avraham Fischer, Parshat Miketz, op. cit.

[5] Rabbi Moshe Weissman, The Midrash Says(Devarim), pp. 70-71

The Honor of Your Presence

This past week as I sifted through the regular daily mail of colorful fliers, credit card applications and various sale catalogs a plain white envelope hand addressed to me caught my eye.  Written in sharply slanted and impeccably neat cursive I immediately recognized it as the handwriting of my mother.  Inside the envelope were two sheets of paper upon which were written the names and addresses of various people.  I had been expecting this list from my mother, a guest list for a very special occasion.

In August my parents will celebrate 50 years of marriage.  My sister and I began nine months ago to plan a reception in their honor for this special day.  Although my parents are aware that we are planning a party for their anniversary, they do not know where the party will be or what it will entail.  In this way my sister and I hope to maintain a sense of surprise for their special day.  A couple of weeks ago I informed my mother that it was time for her to consider a guest list for the party, with a limit of 100 people to be invited. 

Of all the details that my sister and I have considered together, deciding how many people to plan for was perhaps the biggest quandary.  My parents have always been socially active and have numerous friends and acquaintances.  We could easily plan for 150 people (between family and friends) at such an event. Yet, we quickly realized that 75-100 people would be the number we could afford to accommodate at the elegantly simple country club setting we had chosen for the occasion.

Therefore, when the simple handwritten list came in the mail I found myself dumbfounded that it contained the names of merely 50 guests.  I assumed that my mother was too polite to invite the maximum 100, likely out of concern for the cost involved for me and my sister.  But, one detail my mother is unaware of, is that the minimum number of guaranteed guests at the country club reception center is 75. 

In a quick phone call I expressed my surprise about the size of the guest list and encouraged my mother to invited 30-50 additional guests.  Her reaction to this request was more surprising that the guest list itself, as she explained to me that her and my father wanted the anniversary party to be an “intimate affair” involving only the very closest of friends and family members. They did not want to bother other friends and acquaintances with an invitation which might seem to be nothing more than “seeking out gifts”.    

What I thought would be a simple call and welcomed request to invite more guests, suddenly turned into a complicated conversation as my mother expressed her feelings and concerns. In order to ease such worries, I suggested that the invitations could be worded in a way communicating that gifts are not necessary, and that “the honor of your presence is the greatest gift of all”. 

In completing parashah Devarim I found myself considering an interesting invitation reiterated by Moses to the tribes of Reuben and Gad in Deuteronomy 3:18;

HaShem your G-d, gave you this Land for a possession, armed shall you cross over before your brethren, the Children of Israel, all the men of accomplishment. (Stone Chumash)

 In Deuteronomy 2 & 3 after reminding the people that they are forbidden to fight against and/or acquire the land of the descendants of Esau (Edom/Seir) and of Lot (Moab and Ammon), Moses reiterates the awesome victories of Israel over Sihon the powerful King of the Amorites and Og the giant king of Bashan.  In defeating the Amorites and the Bashanites, Israel acquired valuable and extensive land east of the Jordan River, land that was very desirable to the tribes of Gad and Reuben.  Numbers 32 gives the account of the two tribes request to Moses to inherit this land east of the Jordan due to the abundant herds of cattle that they possessed. 

Generally the rabbi’s look upon the two tribes request for an inheritance outside the borders of Eretz Yisrael with disdain and disappointment.  Questions surround the actual number of cattle that were owned by the two tribes with some commentators conjecturing that the matter of “abundance” was a result of a tendency to focus too greatly on their material possessions. Moses at first rebukes them for such a request suspecting that they are motivated by a desire to avoid fighting for an inheritance within the Land itself.

To refute this, Gad and Reuben replied that they would serve as vanguards of the Children of Israel, positioning themselves on the frontlines of the Jewish army in battle.  Their only request was that they might quickly build pens for their flocks and livestock and cities for their small children east of the Jordan prior to entering Eretz Yisrael to fight with the rest of the nation (Numbers 32:16-17).  The rabbi’s astutely notice the order of priority in this response; which places the building of pens for flocks and livestock ahead of cities for their children.  Again, revealing a preoccupation with material concerns. 

This preoccupation is perhaps most starkly realized by the fact that the two tribes never bothered to see the Land or consider it in anyway before making a decision as to where they would settle.  The first territory acquired that looked desirable to them was the land they requested to inherit, despite the fact that HaShem had promised them a land “flowing with milk and honey” within the borders of Israel itself.

Yet, Moses accepts their request on condition that they fight with their fellow brothers until the conquest of the Land is completed.  In order to keep Gad and Reuben connected with the rest of Israel, and that they not fall into an isolated existence,  Moses instructs part of the tribe of Manasseh to also settle on the east side of the Jordan with them (although Manasseh did not request this). 

The tribe of Manasseh is understood to be a spiritually strong people with a great love for the Land. Both Joseph (the progenitor of Manasseh) and Zelophehad’s daughters (of Manasseh) displayed a profound love for Eretz Yisrael.  Joseph instructed that his bones be buried there, and the daughters reasoned with Moses for their rightful inheritance of the Land in lieu of a male heir.  Manasseh’s willingness to follow Moses instruction and settle part of its tribe with Gad and Reuben to the east of the Jordan would provide the two tribes with a strong spiritual influence and encourage them not to lose their love for the Land.

Yet, in reviewing and summarizing this account in Deuteronomy chapter 3 Moses includes a detail not mentioned in Numbers 32; the command that Reuben and Gad armed for battle shall “cross over before your brethren”.   Rabbi Moshe Alshich in his commentary on chumash, Torat Moshe, poses the question as to why the presence of Reuben and Gad were necessary as part of the fighting force of Israel.  Since G-d had promised Israel the possession of the Land why was it necessary for two tribes who had chosen an inheritance outside Eretz Yisrael to go along to battle with the rest?

From a practical standpoint, Gad and Reuben were tribes known for their strength and military prowess. Jacob, in his deathbed blessing upon his twelve sons, relates the unique qualities of each tribe.  Reuben is called “preeminent in power” (Genesis 49:3) while Gad is described as the tribe that “overcomes” troops that attempt to overcome him (Genesis 49:19).  The Midrash says that when Joseph presented his brothers before Pharaoh, he did not present Gad with the rest.  Due to Gad’s great physical size and strength Joseph feared that Pharaoh would draft him for the Egyptian army. 

Moses realized that G-d’s promises and blessings require a response and action on the part of the people.  Although the Land had been promised to them, this did not pardon Israel from the responsibility to fight for it and to do so with every available resource they had to the best of their ability.  Reuben and Gad were a crucial resource in facing battles ahead. 

Yet, being viewed as a valuable resource brings with it the idea of obligation and the sense of duty.  Reuben and Gad’s presence with their brothers in crossing the Jordan and fighting for the Land could easily be understood by them and the nation as nothing more than a necessary obligation.  The “honor of their presence” requested only due to their physical strength and fighting abilities. 

Therefore, Moses provided them with the unique opportunity, not only to fight “alongside” their brethren out of a sense of duty and obligation, but to “cross over before them”.  As Reuben and Gad crossed the Jordan dressed in full military gear and armed for battle the rest of the nation would be encouraged regarding the victories of possessing the Land which lay ahead.  If the two tribes which already had an inheritance to the east of the Jordan displayed an eagerness to go into the Land and fight for it, the faith of the entire nation would be bolstered regarding the certainty of victory and G-d’s deliverance of the Land into their hands. [1] Instead of crossing over with the others due to obligation and duty and occupying the front lines because of their natural military abilities alone, the true honor of Reuben and Gad’s presence was the opportunity to bolster the morale of the entire nation.  An opportunity Moses recognized and graciously instructed them to participate in. 

. . . . . . . .

Although it is not unusual for invitations to an event such as an anniversary party to include the request that gifts are not required, this suggestion did not sit well with my mother. In her experience with “no gift required” events people always bring gifts anyway which results in others feeling “cheap and uncomfortable”.  Because of this she again expressed the desire to have a small celebration.

As I felt a sense of disappointment welling up inside of me, my mind raced for a solution.  I could contact the country club and withdraw the reservation, risk the possibility of losing a deposit, and hopefully find a smaller and simpler venue with less than three months time remaining.  Or I could appease my parent’s preference for an “intimate celebration” and pay for a minimum of 75 plates despite the likelihood of 40-45 people being in attendance. 

Instead of getting into financial details or explaining that I was facing a 75 person minimum, I decided to  question my mother’s viewpoint.  Was it right to assume that an invitation to such an event is always viewed as an obligation upon people, with the focus being the cost and effort of providing a gift for the celebration?  Would it not be better to give people the benefit of the doubt?  To assume that friends and acquaintances would see such an invitation as an opportunity to celebrate a lifetime event, and that not receiving an invitation might be a disappointment to them?

Slowly my mother considered my reasoning and inevitably she agreed with me. Instead of viewing an invitation to the upcoming 50^th anniversary party as an obligation and duty she realized that in the most general sense it was an opportunity to celebrate and share in the joy of a momentous occasion.  That the “honor of your presence” as “the greatest gift of all” is not just a polite phrase meant to relieve an obligation, but rather a phrase expressing the real meaning and purpose of such a celebration.

Although my sister and I are delighted to plan a party for my parent’s 50^th, in our family such celebrations are considered a duty. It is an unwritten rule and longstanding tradition that 25^th and 50^th anniversaries are expected to be celebrated with a nice party thrown by parents and/or children alike.  With the final details of the 50^th anniversary reception quickly coming to a close, my mother has already spoken to me about 2011, the year my sister will be married 25 years.  Inevitably another round of party planning is in my future : )

Yet, with the first parashah of Deuteronomy behind me I have found myself reflecting on the opportunities that lie in the midst of life’s duties and obligations . . . opportunities to rise above mere rote fulfillment of expectations in order to consider fuller dimensions and broader perspectives which both inspire and motivate.

 

[1] Torat Moshe as cited in; Rabbi Lazer Gurkow, Devarim: Food for Thought for Your Dinner Table (Shabbat; Truth in G-d) available at; http://www.innerstream.ca/blog/ParshaInsights/Dvarim/Dvarim/_archives/2008/8/3/3822727.html

An Uncomfortable Blessing

Working in a healthcare environment, the recent swine flu outbreak has been a popular topic of conversation.  For the most part, the doctors and fellow nurses I work with generally agree that the media has over-emphasized the seriousness of the situation.  However, this overemphasis and “hype” is understood to be a good thing as the sense of concern that it creates among the general population will inevitably lead to education and compliance regarding necessary hygiene to alleviate the spread of this flu.

In the midst of this general understanding there are a couple of co-workers who tend to display an impatient attitude toward the general public regarding this issue.  One particular nurse was quite vocal about her opinions last Wednesday during work, openly calling people “stupid” for getting “so wrapped up” in all of this.  In her opinion “flu is flu” and although the swine flu is a more virulent strain it is in essence nothing more than another “type” of flu . . so why all the fuss?

In the afternoon of that same Wednesday a memo was posted at the nurses’ station.  All employees of the hospital involved in direct patient care were to be fitted with specialized masks in anticipation of a possible epidemic of swine flu.  A couple hours later I found myself in a conference room waiting in line to be fitted for my “respirator” mask.  

The process was more complicated than I anticipated.  Instead of merely trying on masks to determine which one fit best, a specialized hood was placed over my head and a non-toxic aerosol was sprayed into the hood.  Once I could taste the bitterness of the aerosol the first part of the fitting was concluded.  Next, I tried on various size respirators until one that seemed to have a good fit was chosen.  With the respirator mask on my face the hood was reapplied and the spray test was repeated.  If the bitter taste of the aerosol could be detected with the mask on, then the fit was insufficient.  If the aerosol taste could not be detected the seal and fit of the mask was adequate.

After completing the test I met up with my vocal co-worker who also had just finished her fitting as well.  As we looked around the room at others in the process of being fitted, with oversized bright yellow hoods upon their heads, the scene in front of us looked like something from a hazmat documentary.  My coworker turned to me with a worried look on her face; “Paula, I don’t like this” she said “this is serious and it’s scary”.  

Trying to remain positive I pointed out how fortunate we were to work for a healthcare system that would expend the effort and cost of fitting us with respirators although the current outbreak of flu was far from being an epidemic.  Our employer obviously did not take the safety of its employees lightly in this regard, which in essence, should be considered a blessing.  Although my co-worker agreed with what I said, as we walked back to the unit she added; “it might be a blessing, but it’s a blessing I’m not comfortable with”.  

In considering the first chapter of Deuteronomy this past week, I again found myself faced with an unusual blessing. Moses begins the first of three discourses to the Children of Israel who are poised to enter the Land by recalling various journeys over the past forty years in which they were tempted to sin against HaShem.  He then reminds the people of the burden of being their leader, and that he could not “carry them alone” (v. 9).  Following this statement Moses goes on to say;

HaShem, your G-d, has multiplied you and behold! You are like the stars of heaven in abundance.  May HaShem, the G-d of your forefathers, add to you a thousand times yourselves, and bless you as He has spoken of you. (Deuteronomy 1:10-11 Stone Chumash).

After this blessing Moses describes the people as contentious, burdensome and quarrelsome and therefore in need of distinguished and wise men to be appointed as leaders over them (vv. 12-13).  Because the book of Deuteronomy is understood by the sages to be Mishneh Torah (repetition or review of the Torah), in the most general sense Moses blessing here can be understood as a simple reminder and encouragement to Israel that G-d’s promise to Abraham in Genesis 22:17, that his seed would be abundant as the stars of heaven, would come to pass despite their downfalls and weaknesses.

Yet, the Midrash points out a discrepancy here.  For G-d’s promise to Abraham was to multiply his seed like the stars, the sand and the dust of the earth in a way that was limitless and infinite, a way that involved no mathematical calculations or quantitative considerations.  Therefore, Moses in pronouncing his blessing seems to be placing a limit on Israel of one thousand-fold, or one thousand times the current population.  

The census taken in the book of Numbers calculated the number of men of fighting age to be 600,000.  Adding in the women, children and men/boys of unsuitable age for the army, estimates range from 2 million to 6 million as the total population of Israel in the wilderness. Taking a conservative estimate of 3 million people times 1,000 would calculate to 3 billion, roughly half the population of the entire earth at the present time.  Although this number is enormous, it yet is a number of quantitative value.  In this way the Midrash relates that the Israelites objected to Moses blessing as something that detracted from G-d’s promises given to them through Abraham, an uncomfortable blessing that was not well received. [1]

The logical question here is; what did the Jews gain through Moses blessing if they already possessed a greater blessing and promise from HaShem? Why was it necessary for Moses to speak this blessing if G-d had already given an infinite blessing to Abraham? 

A consideration of the actual Hebrew words for “a thousand times” (elef pe’amim) in v. 11 is very revealing for pe’amim is used in the plural instead of the singular form (pa’am) here.  If Moses had said elef (a thousand) pa’am (times) then the mathematics involved would have been strictly one thousand times the current population.  In saying elef pe’amim Moses instead alludes to the doubling of the current population one thousand times. [2]

For example; 3,000,000 x 2 = 6,000,000 would be the first doubling of the population.  6,000,000 x 2 = 12,000,000 would be the second doubling.  Continue this for 998 additional “doublings” and the population quickly reaches an astronomical figure that is too large to count and cannot be described in mathematical or merely quantitative terms.  In this way, Moses choice of words in blessing the people does not diminish the infinite nature of the original blessing given to Abraham.  

Yet, another interesting aspect of Moses blessing is that he does not refer to the people as the sand of the seashore (cf. Genesis 22:17, 26:4) or the dust of the earth (cf. Genesis 13:16, 28:14), but focuses on them specifically as “the stars of heaven in abundance”.  The sand of the seashore and the dust of the earth have similar qualities in that each individual grain or particle work together and are identified together as a beach or a plot of land.  Grains of sand and particles of dirt have a tendency to “stick together” and are not naturally considered on an individual basis.  In the same way, describing Abraham’s seed as the sand of the seashore and the dust of the earth, symbolizes the inevitable and crucial unity of the Children of Israel as they work together in cooperation.  [3]

In a kabbalistic sense, dust symbolizes potential for dust can either transform the sun, rain or wind into food or it can lie fallow.  Dust can receive and integrate many elements and give forth something completely new or it can be nothing more than dirt on the ground and completely unproductive.  In creating Adam from the dust of the earth, HaShem gave man the potential to receive and use the various elements of creation in order to achieve and produce.  The Torah also speaks of man’s death as “returning to dust” for in death man enters a state in which he is completely unable to receive or give back and therefore occupies the role of dust which lies fallow.  [4] Therefore, the Children of Israel when working in harmony and unity occupy a role of unlimited potential, just as the dust of the earth or sand of the seashore. 

Unlike dust and sand, the stars do not work in unity.  They are individual orbs separated by great distances.  A grain of sand or a particle of dust lack individuality and essentially look identical to other grains and particles, whereas each star is placed in a differing position in the sky with variable colors and intensity of light.  Some stars are bright and large, some are dim and small.   In this way the stars symbolize the individuality of each Jew and allude to variability in spiritual understanding and “brightness” among the Children of Abraham.  Such individuality inevitably results in fragmentation and friction within the greater community itself. [5]  

 This motif regarding the stars is seen throughout Scripture.  In Genesis 37:9-10 Joseph has a dream in which his father is likened to the sun, his mother likened to the moon and his eleven brothers are seen as “eleven stars” bowing down to him.  The sun and moon are celestial bodies that are consistent in appearance, and which symbolize the natural relationship between a husband who gives (radiates) to his wife and the wife who receives from her husband in order to give back (reflect).  The stars however represent the variable and individual nature and characteristics of each of the eleven brothers which is highlighted by Jacob in his deathbed blessing of Genesis 49.  In 1 Corinthians 15:41 Paul also speaks of the heavenly bodies of the stars as “differing in glory”.  

Therefore, in focusing upon the Israelites as the stars in abundance, Moses highlights their individuality.  This variability in character and knowledge ultimately was the reason Moses could not “carry” or “lead them” by himself and needed the assistance of wise and understanding leaders to help deal with the “contentiousness”, “burdens” and “quarrels” that such subjectivity naturally produces.  Yet, despite the challenges of leading roughly three million people who are like the stars of the heavens in their individuality and various levels of maturity and growth, Moses yet prays that they will increase.  That the “stars” would multiply to an infinite number!  Instead of wishing that there were less of such subjective and contentious individuals Moses prays that there would be more just like them . . .that they would be multiplied “a thousand times yourselves”.

What possible advantage could there be in having an infinite number of individualistic and quarrelsome people within the nation of Israel?  Why didn’t Moses pray for their multiplication as “sand” or “dust”, for a multiplication of unity and cooperation which would lead to limitless productivity on a united front? How uncomfortable and odd it seems that Moses would speak such a “blessing”.  

Without individuality and the potential for contentiousness and strife, Moses would not have been burdened; he could have lead Israel by himself without the need for leaders among the tribes and roughly 393,000 men would never have aspired to distinction or wisdom, never having the opportunity to lead and direct G-d’s people.  For if the population is estimated at 3 million and Moses instructed that there must be a leader over “thousands, “hundreds”, “fifties” and “tens” (v. 15), then mathematically this would necessitate 3,000 leaders of thousands, 30,000 leaders of hundreds, 60,000 leaders of fifties and 300,000 leaders of tens, for a total of 393,000 leaders.

 By praying for HaShem to infinitely multiple the Israelites in their individuality as “stars of the heavens” Moses in essence is praying for the uncomfortable blessing of increased challenges and strife.  The discomfort of subjectivity and friction, which is the perfect environment in which leaders are raised up and men of excellence aspire to wisdom and distinction.

. . . . . . .

The front page of the morning newspaper over the past couple of days has been noticeably void of the images that occupied it for the last several weeks.  Gone are the pictures of people in various life situations wearing familiar blue surgical masks over their mouths and noses. The swine flu outbreak has made its way from the bold screaming headlines of the front page to an unassuming article on page 3 of this morning’s paper. 

The overwhelming majority of new cases have been mild and haven’t required hospitalization.  Only one death, of a Mexican toddler, has occurred on U.S. soil. Although 143 infections have been confirmed in 23 states, this pails in comparison to the annual death toll of 36,000 Americans due to the seasonal flu.  In reading these statistics I thought of my vocal co-worker and her annoyance regarding all the fuss surrounding the swine flu outbreak.  I thought about the scenario I witnessed in being fitted for a respirator mask and assumed that my PPD (personal protection device) would likely never be needed in caring for patients.  Yet, I am still thankful for the uncomfortable blessing of precautionary measures taken by my employer to insure my safety.  

In a conversation with someone recently it was commented that; “the two great disadvantages of Evangelicalism are the norms of spontaneity and the culture of individualism”.  I found these words to be well spoken and told the person so. This comment was made in relation to the widely variable and somewhat chaotic forms of worship and practice among many Messianics today which are often lacking in uniformity, clarity and reverence, a natural outgrowth of the mindset of Evangelicalism within the movement itself.  

Yet in considering Moses uncomfortable blessing to the Israelites in Deuteronomy 1, perhaps it is not best to consider such individualism and spontaneity as a disadvantage or harm but rather as a challenge and opportunity. For this current environment of fragmentation, friction and confusion demands and cries out for wisdom and distinction and is the perfect “breeding ground” from which leaders of excellence and insight can arise.

Abraham’s seed was not merely blessed with infinite multiplication as dust and sand, but also as stars.  Uniformity, cohesiveness and ritual alone certainly results in unity and productivity which by itself is bland and impersonal, like the dust under one’s feet or the sand between one’s toes.  Individualism and subjectivity in itself is as awe inspiring as the Milky Way on a moonless night, yet as variable and uncertain as attempting to count or calculate every one of the stars in the heavens.  G-d’s ultimate blessing is seen in the multiplication of both unity and individualism, community objectivity and personal subjectivity, side by side, in a delicate tension of balance with each other.  

 

 

[1] Rabbi Moshe Weissman, The Midrash Says (Devarim), p. 13

[2]  Rabbi Moshe Bogomilsky, Vedibarta Bam Volume 5 (Devarim), available at: http://www.sichosinenglish.com/books/vedibarta-bam/044.htm

[3] Ibid.

[4] Rabbi Aryeh Kaplin, Inner Space, p. 148.

[5] Rabbi Moshe Bogomilsky, op.cit.

A Daughter of Zelophehad

“If this is the case, then I’ll gladly call myself a sister of Sarah”!

These spontaneous words issued from my mouth during a lecture on Genesis 20 which I presented to an interdenominational women’s Bible study I was teaching in 1997.  The opportunity to teach women from a variety of denominational settings, for a seven year period of time (1996-2003), was certainly one of the most memorable periods in my spiritual journey thus far.  Although I worked hard every week during the class year (from September-May) to study and prepare a lecture that would be inspiring and practical, perhaps of all the thousands of words the women heard from me, the above statement made the most lasting impression.

In Genesis 20, Abraham and Sarah make a second journey to Egypt and Sarah is abducted by king Abimelech and brought into his harem.  The incredible thing being that Sarah at this point is 90 years old.  Obviously her physical beauty had not waned and she was attractive enough to be desired by a very powerful monarch.  As I expounded on this scenario, I couldn’t help but let a bit of humor slip regarding the “youthful” 90 year old Sarah, and my desire to be just like her in this physical sense. 

Unaccustomed to such spontaneity (for this study group was quite scholarly and serious) the women burst out in laughter and applause.  Afterward, numerous members approached me with smiles on their faces and agreed that they desired to be “a sister of Sarah” too.  These words were not quickly forgotten and for years afterward I would have women refer to me as “a sister of Sarah”, always with a wink and a smile and as a way to compliment and encourage me regarding my physical appearance as I reached and passed my 40^th year during the time of teaching that study.

Yet in considering the concluding chapter of the book of Numbers this past week my attention was drawn to a very unique group of sisters, the daughters of Zelophehad.  As the Children of Israel are preparing to enter the Promised Land, with the borders of the Land outlined and instructions regarding the Cities of Refuge given, a group of men from the tribe of Manasseh approach Moses regarding Zelophehad’s daughters.  The men are concerned because the daughters will inherit their father’s portion of land (being that their father is deceased and had no sons as heirs, Numbers 27) but are yet unmarried.  If any of the daughters were to marry a man from a tribe outside of Manasseh (their family tribe) then the portion of land that daughter acquired would become the property of the tribe of her husband.  In this way, the tribe of Manasseh is threatened with the possibility of permanent loss of inheritance in Eretz Yisrael which could never be regained.

With this potential dilemma in mind, HaShem commands the daughters of Zelophehad by saying;

 . . . “Let them be wives to whomever is good in their eyes, but only to the family of their father’s tribe shall they become wives.” (Numbers 36:6 Stone Chumash)

The sages recognize a discrepancy in this verse, for how can the daughters have the freedom to marry “whomever is good in their eyes” while yet being restricted to marry men from their father’s tribe of Manasseh.  What if there were no worthy men within the familial tribe?  Are the sisters then to remain unmarried?

For an “average” Israelite woman this question would be redundant for certainly among the available men of Manasseh a worthy match could be found.  But the daughters of Zelophehad, as described in Midrash and Aggadah, were not your “average” women. 

These sisters are considered by the commentators to be among the most righteous and wise women in the entire Torah for HaShem saw fit to use them as a vehicle through which a mitzvah was established.  This most rare and unusual occurrence (of G-d’s revelation and mitzvah being given via someone other than Moses) is seen only one other time, in the establishment of Pesach Sheni (Numbers 9:6-14). 

Bava Batra 119 b states;

“The daughters of Zelophehad were wise women, they were exegetes and they were virtuous.” 

The sages understand their wisdom as the ability to speak “at the opportune time“.  According to R. Samuel and R. Isaac, Moses was expounding on Levirate marriage when the daughters approached him in Numbers 27.  It was at this time, when the importance of a male heir was being considered, that the daughters brought their claim to Moses; that they were “as good as sons” and deserving of their father’s inheritance of the Promised Land.  If this were not the case, they reasoned, then Moses should allow their mother to be subject to the law of the Levirate marriage, in order to produce a male heir for their father.   

Traditionally it is understood that the daughters were adult women approaching their middle years.  Therefore their widowed mother would have been very elderly, if alive at all. A Levirate marriage to one of her husband’s brothers would have been in vain as Zelophehad’s widow would have been too elderly to conceive a male heir.  Therefore the daughters understand that they, as the only children of Zelophehad, should be his rightful heirs.  By bringing up their claim to Moses while his mind was focused on the topic of male heirs, these wise women spoke at the most opportune time.

The fact that they were exegetes is based on the wording of Numbers 27:5 in which “Moses brought their claim before HaShem“.  The Ein Yaakov points out that the women brought their “judgment” (mishpatan literally “their law”) before G-d, which was much more than merely a personal request or a question.  The daughters followed a line of reasoning based on Torah laws and principles to come to a proper decision.  In this way their petition included a legal argument and its ruling. [1]

In the Torah scroll the word mishpatan of Numbers 27:6 is spelled with an oversized nun.  Although there are various opinions regarding this, the numerical value of nun is 50 which alludes to the giving of the Torah on Sinai, traditionally understood to have occurred on Shavuot, 50 days after the Exodus.  The rabbis understand that after leaving Egypt the Children of Israel progressed and “ascended” spiritually for the next 50 days until they merited the ability to hear the words of G-d from HaShem Himself.  At this point, the nation was at its pinnacle spiritually. 

In the same way, when describing the daughters’ claim regarding their right to inherit their father’s portion of Land, the Torah uses an oversized nun to emphasize the spiritual pinnacle they occupied at this time.  For the judgment they came to was the very “word of G-d” itself although it had not been revealed to Moses or proclaimed through him.  As Rashi explains the enlarged nun alludes to the fact that these women merited the privilege of “writing a section of the Torah”, [2] due to their ability for exegesis, and “seeing what the eyes of Moses did not see”. [3]

The virtue of these women is understood by the fact that “they were married to such men only that were worthy of them” (Bava Batra 119b).  R. Eliezar b. Jacob elaborates that none of them, even the youngest, was married before the age of forty.  This is understood from Numbers 36:6 which encompasses two admonitions.  First, the daughters were to marry men whom they thought were the best or most worthy to be their husbands (whomever is good in their eyes). 

Secondly, they were advised to marry from within their familial tribe.  From this the sages understand that the sisters were not required to marry men from the tribe of Manasseh but rather that Scripture is suggesting this as good advice to them (Bava Batra 120a).  The most important thing was for the sisters to marry men of equal or superior spiritual caliber to themselves. Otherwise, they would end up in frustrated and unfulfilling marriages where their gifts and abilities would not be realized to the fullest extent.

In the simplest sense the male role  is one of giver while the female is receiver. “Barnyard logic” (i.e. simple anatomical differences between the two) speaks of this. Of course a man can receive and a woman can give, within various roles in a relationship. But in general the basic make-up of a man is most fulfilled in giving (his abilities, talents, personality, goals, visions etc.) to a woman who can take what he has to offer and can use those “raw materials” to the fullest, in a way that creates meaningful outcomes. This is best accomplished when a man is able to give to a woman in a way that challenges her to grow and excel (to be able to receive even more) and the woman is able to receive from a man and create outcomes that challenge him to provide and give back to a greater extent (grow and excel). 

For women like the daughters of Zelophehad, who were wise and virtuous exegetes, women who not only discerned the correct content of a situation but also spoke forth their judgment at the right time, finding men who would be suitable “givers” to their “receiver” role in marriage would not be an easy task.  This task would be even more limited in considering men from their familial tribe alone.  Yet, based on the Talmudic understanding the sisters followed the advice of Scripture and waited to marry husbands who were suited to them, from their own tribe, which necessarily meant that none of them were married before the age of forty. 

. . . . . . . . .

Although the thought of being alluring and beautiful at age ninety is certainly an appealing idea that any woman would desire to experience, I realize now that my “off the cuff” comment made in a lecture years ago, did a disservice to the spiritual greatness of the matriarch Sarah.  For although this woman did maintain a physical beauty of miraculous longevity, being a true “sister of Sarah” would involve much more than mere physical attraction in the eyes of a man.

In teaching through the Pentateuch in the ladies Bible study of 1997, the daughters of Zelophehad barely received mention in lectures that I gave which included Numbers chapters 27 and 36.  How easy it is to overlook their righteousness and wisdom.  To see these daughters as helpless individuals who beg for Moses attention and mercy and later are commanded to marry men of their own tribe. 

Women who fight for inheritance and land issues typically are not viewed as glamorous, and marrying within the family line is certainly not exciting.  Being careful and diligent in discerning matters of Scripture and having the discipline to wait until the right moment to speak forth a judgment are not qualities that typically cause men to “show up” on one’s doorstep : ) Putting one’s social life on hold in order to follow the “suggestions of Scripture” does not evoke the attention or admiration of others. Yet, truth be told, after studying the sisters’ story from the lens of the Midrash and Aggadah this past week, I would consider it a tremendous honor to be called “a daughter of Zelophehad”. 

Perhaps it requires a feminine perspective over the age of forty (and drawing ever closer to age 50) to recognize the profound spiritual beauty and attractiveness of these women . . . an attractiveness that far outlives and outweighs the advantages and attention of physical beauty alone. 

 

 

[1] Ein Yaakov as cited in; Sarah Schneider, The Daughters of Zelophehad Speaks, available at:  http://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/2222/jewish/A-Daughter-of-Zelophehad-Speaks.htm

[2] Rashi as cited in; Menachem Persoff, Special Features for Parashat Pinchas, available at: http://www.ou.org/torah/tt/5762/pinchas62/specialfeatures.htm

[3] Rashi, Numbers 27:7

Rethinking the Afikomen

. . . The rabbis teach that after the destruction of the Temple, the Afikomen has taken the place of the Lambs that were sacrificed in the Temple and that it is the most important part of the Seder. Its taste should be what you remember from the meal. This Afikomen symbolizes the ultimate Passover sacrifice, our Messiah Yeshua, who gave His body for the atonement of our sins. Let us bless Adonai and eat the Afikomen. . .

With these words, I and 13 other individuals partook of the Afikomen matzah as the bread representing the body of Yeshua, at the Seder I attended with my Torah Community this past Wednesday night (Nisan 15).  This was the fifth Messianic Seder I have participated in and the first one I did not host in my home for exclusively family and friends.  The first two Seders I hosted were not held on the evening of Nisan 15 but rather on the Saturday afternoon prior to Easter Sunday.  I used the Seder as a “demonstration” to introduce family and friends to the beauty and profound meaning of celebrating Passover “the way Jesus would have”.  These Seders were a huge hit and my extended family would ask months in advance about the date of the Seder for the following year. 

The third year I hosted two Seders.  Being convicted that the Seder was not meant to be a demonstration but was a specific date given by HaShem and meant to be observed, I hosted a small Seder on the night of Nisan 15 in which a neighbor couple (who once were involved in a Messianic Synagogue I attended) were the only guests. The following Saturday afternoon I held the “demonstration” Seder for my extended family due to popular demand and not wanting to disappoint them.

Year four I was a little bolder.  Nisan 15 was a Saturday night that year, so the “friends and family Seder” could actually be held on the correct date. But along with this I insisted that instead of starting during mid-afternoon, as we had in previous years, we would start the Seder at nightfall according to the Biblical instructions.  A couple of family members bowed-out because of the inconvenience of the late hour (and the fact that they would have trouble getting up for church the next day). There were also some who questioned why I didn’t hold the Seder on the Saturday before Easter (which had occurred three weeks earlier) and expressed discomfort with it being held after Easter was long over.  

This year I haven’t heard a word from extended family and friends that have attended Seder meals in my home in previous years.  There are many reasons for this, but most specifically they realize that I am going to observe Pesach according to the Biblical/Jewish date and time.  It would appear that the novelty of it isn’t worth attending a very Jewish meal in the middle of the week, which seems so disconnected from Easter Sunday itself. 

Yet, despite the way my Pesach observance has “evolved” over the years, in every Seder I have hosted or attended, the Afikomen has always been used as the bread of communion, in remembrance of Yeshua’s body.  Of course the handling of the Afikomen; its being the larger broken half of the middle of three matzot, wrapped in a linen napkin and hidden away, only to be retrieved and reappear at the Seder table at a later time, immediately evokes imagery of the death (breaking), burial (hiding) and resurrection (reappearing) of Yeshua.

Trinitarians will also see the three persons of the Godhead as represented in the three matzot used during the Yachatz portion of the Seder which are placed in a special three compartment bag (Matzah Tasch) with the middle matsah being broken.  How easy it is to imagine the Trinity as represented in the three matzot with the 2^nd person, the son, being broken and suffering. 

Along with what seems to be very pointed Messianic symbolism, the Greek word for Afikomen, aphikomenos, used in the aorist tense, literally means “He has come”.  In some Messianic Haggadahs it is pointed out that the rabbis offer no explanation as to why the Afikomen part of the Seder is performed the way it is.  Among the wisest men of Israel this is a hidden mystery that is clear to those who believe in Yeshua and recognize in the Afikomen the identity of “he” who “has come”.  But is the Afikomen really the most fitting matzah to be used in remembrance of Yeshua’s body and death on the cross in a Seder setting?

Apart from the ongoing debates and opinions as to whether the Last Supper was a Seder meal or if it was a meal held before the evening of Nisan 15, the Synoptic accounts agree that Yeshua blessed the bread prior to distributing it during the meal. Paul, in 1 Corinthians 11:23-24 also highlights this fact.  In the original meal of the Last Supper the bread of communion had HaMotzi pronounced over it before being partaken of.  In the Seder, the Afikomen is most unusual because a blessing is not pronounced prior to eating it.  Although some Messianic Seders include HaMotzi before the eating of the Afikomen this is an addition not in keeping with the traditional Haggadah.  Also, the Afikomen is not part of the meal; it is considered the “dessert” which is partaken of after the meal portion (Shulchan Orech) is completed. 

Although the Greek aphikomenos means “He has come”, this is not the understanding of the word Afikomen as used in Talmudic accounts.  The Afikomen is discussed in both the Babylonian (Pesachim 119b) and Jerusalem (Pesachim 10:4-11) Talmud.  The Mishnah of Pesachim 119b states; “You may not conclude after the Paschal meal (by saying) ‘now to the Afikomen’”.  Immediately the Chazal begin to discuss “what does Afikomen mean?”

The first opinion, given by Rav, is that “they must not remove from one company to another.” In other words, once the Paschal meal is completed one must not go on to other Pesach (chavurah) groups to celebrate or participate in the korban Pesach with them. According to the opinion of Samuel (and others) the Afikomen describes snacks and desserts that should not be eaten after partaking of the korban Pesach.  In the Jerusalem Talmud (Pesachim 10:6) R. Inaini and R. Sisai understand Afikomen as entertainment with musical instruments which one should not become involved with after the Seder is concluded.  

The Talmudic opinions address well established norms in the time of the Mishnah surrounding the concept of the Greek symposia.  At the end of a symposium it was traditional for the participants to proceed to neighboring homes where there would be delicacies to eat, merry-making and music. This practice was called epikomion, or “after-dinner activities/entertainment”.  Therefore, although the exact etymology of Afikomen is not explained in the Talmud and the meaning of the word includes many Midrashic and folk etymologies, the most widely held view is that the Mishnah is making a point of forbidding “after dinner activities” common to a Greek/pagan culture in relation to the Seder.  [1]

Because the high point and focus of the Seder is the partaking of the meat of the Paschal lamb, later Rishonim (Rashi, Rashbam and others) designated the last piece of matzah, coming from the hidden and broken piece, to be the Afikomen, or the “after meal” food/dessert. [2] But apart from these points which could be seen as needlessly “picky” or unrelated to the reality of Yeshua’s death, lies the fact that the Afikomen in the Seder is used to represent the korban Pesach, which was not a sin offering or a burnt offering but was a peace offering which in itself had no atoning qualities at all.

The peace offering (Shelamim) in Torah (Leviticus 3) was brought for two reasons;

1. As a thanksgiving offering in recognition of a miraculous event. This offering is referred to by the rabbis as Shalmei Todah.  Before offering a Shalmei Todah the individual would lean his hands on the head of the animal to express his thanks to G-d. Since the peace offering did not atone for sin no confession of sin was made. The sacrifice was accompanied by leavened bread, and was required to be completely consumed by the morning after it was brought with no leftovers remaining.  In order to consume the sacrificial portion by the following morning others would be invited to join in the eating of the Shalmei Todah.  The purpose of this offering (to thank and praise G-d for a miraculous event) was best accomplished when the meal was shared and the story of G-d’s faithfulness related to many. 
2.  As a vow or freewill offering brought by an individual who swore to bring an offering to HaShem that was unrelated to any particular event.  This offering is referred to by the rabbis as Shalmei Neder u’ Nedavah, and differed from the Shalmei Todah as two days were allowed for the total consumption of it, instead of just one.

 The korban Pesach was a korban Todah with a slight difference being that no leavened bread was brought with it due to the stipulations of Pesach as found in Torah.  As a Shalmei Todah, the korban Pesach needed to be completely consumed the night of Passover, and involved a meal with a group of people through which G-d’s miracle of the Exodus from Egypt was retold and remembered.

Therefore, the Pesach lamb was not brought on account of sin and did not atone for sin.  The Afikomen in the Seder represents this lamb.  Yeshua in instituting the Lord’s Supper did not liken his body to the lamb of the Seder, but rather to bread.  Although Yeshua certainly is referred to as “the Lamb of G-d” in the Apostolic Scriptures, this “lamb” symbolism speaks of his atoning and redeeming function as taking away “the sin of the world”.  This function cannot be represented in the Afikomen which symbolizes the korban Pesach, a peace offering sacrifice with no atoning or redeeming features inherent to it at all.

The rabbis recognize two korban Pesach in the pages of Torah.  One is referred to as Pesach Mitzrayim and the other as Pesach Dorot.  Pesach Mitzrayim was the unique and one time sacrifice of the lamb in Egypt prior to the Exodus.  It was a lamb whose blood was applied to the door frames of the homes that the death of the firstborn would “Passover” the Children of Israel. This sacrifice was a one time, unique sacrifice, never to be repeated again.  Pesach Dorot was the yearly memorial of the Exodus from Egypt and therefore was a peace offering brought in recognition and praise of the miracle of redemption already accomplished.  The original Pesach Mitzrayim was brought with faith that redemption was imminent and would occur.  The memorial Pesach Dorot was brought with thanksgiving and remembrance for redemption which had already been realized.

Perhaps Yeshua did not liken his body to the korban Pesach (a memorial/peace offering) because the full reality of his sacrifice and the complete redemption it will bring is yet future.  Like the Pesach Mitzrayim, Yeshua’s sacrifice was a unique and one time event of which the complete redemptive reality is something we still anticipate in times ahead.  Therefore we cannot praise and thank G-d for redemption through Yeshua as something already completed and memorialized, as a Pesach Dorot, but instead look with anticipation to what we believe by faith is still ahead. 

 With these thoughts in mind it would seem that the Afikomen is not meant to be used as the bread of the Lord’s Supper in relation to a Messianic Seder. Reasons for this include:

1. The Afikomen receives no blessing before distribution and is partaken of after the meal is concluded.  Yeshua blessed the bread of the Last Supper prior to distributing it during the meal.  Paul reiterates these instructions regarding the bread of Communion in 1 Corinthians 11.  
2. The Greek aphikomenos (“he has come”) is not the understood etymology of the word Afikomen as used in both the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmud. Instead, prohibiting the cultural practice of epikomion or “after dinner activities” in relation to the Seder seems to be in view.    
3. The Afikomen matzah represents the meat of the Paschal lamb, a peace offering with no atoning qualities. The “Lamb of G-d” title of Yeshua in the Apostolic Scriptures symbolizes the atoning and redeeming function of his sacrificial death.  The korban Pesach, represented by the Afikomen matzah of the Seder cannot properly symbolize Yeshua as “the Lamb of G-d”.  
4. Yeshua did not refer to the Pesach lamb to symbolize his body, but instead taught his disciples to partake of bread in remembrance of him. Like the original Passover lamb of Egypt (Pesach Mitzrayim) Yeshua’s death was a unique and one time sacrifice that promises a full and complete redemption in the future. The Afikomen represents the Pesach Dorot (peace offering) which memorializes a completed act of redemption (from Egypt).   

Perhaps the Motzi-Matzah (step 7-8 of the Seder) would provide a more fitting symbol by which to recognize and remember Yeshua’s body. For a blessing is said over this matzah prior to it being broken and distributed to others.  It is also part of the “lead in” to the meal of the Seder, being followed by the eating of the Maror (bitter herbs) and the Korech (matzah sandwich) before the Shulchan Orech (festive meal) is served. 

Yet, the Motzi-Matzah fulfills the mitzvah to eat unleavened bread at Pesach and symbolizes the bread of affliction and haste of the Exodus from Egypt itself.  Therefore, perhaps a better means of recognizing the Lord’s body during a Seder might be to pronounce HaMotzi over matzah during some point in the eating of the festive meal, break and distributed it, and take a moment to contemplate and recognize Yeshua’s sacrifice then.

. . . . . . .

In response to my previous post “As Often as You Do This” (April 3, 2009) a reader commented privately by saying that the details and concerns I related there were little more than “much ado about nothing”.  Perhaps my ponderings about the Afikomen might be viewed in the same way as well. For if inspirational meaning which honors Yeshua can be found in the details of the Afikomen then why try to “reinvent the wheel” of the standard Messianic Haggadah, so to speak. 

Yet, by applying details and symbolism of Yeshua into the Seder in a manner that disregards rabbinic understanding and Torah details; don’t Messianics come dangerously close to practicing a form of supersessionism?  Who is it then that is trying to reinvent the wheel?  I truly wonder who instituted the Afikomen as the bread of communion in the Messianic Seder.  Where did this practice originate?  This was one detail I was unable to find in my studying over the past couple of weeks.

With all this in mind I can’t help but wonder . . what the sixth annual Pesach Seder will be like for me on the night of March 29, 2010?   For I have a feeling my observance of this will continue to evolve even in ways I never would have imagined before.

 

[1] Balashon – Hebrew Language Detective; “Afikoman” (April 6, 2006). Available at: http://www.balashon.com/2006/04/afikoman.html

[2] Ibid.