Showing posts with label Ki Thavo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ki Thavo. Show all posts

Parashath Ki Thavo’ (Deuteronomy XXVI,1-XXIX,8) 9/16/11

A.


Our parasha this week is known for the presence of a long passage called the Tohacha, or “Rebuke.” After detailing all the blessings which would flow to Israel for heeding the Torah and doing their level best to adhere to its precepts (XXVIII, 1-14), the passage begins: והי' אם לא תשמע בקול ד' אלקיך לשמר לעשות את כל מצותיו וחקתיו אשר אנכי מצוך היום ובאו עליך כל הקללות האלה והשיגוך (“And it will be, if you do not listen to the voice of Ha-Shem your G-d to keep [i.e., “learn”] to do all His mitzvoth and His laws which I am commanding you today, and all of these curses will come upon you and engulf you”).

Our passage then proceeds to detail the horrors which, as any student of Jewish history can assure us, were all too accurate a description of our sad history: Conquest, expropriation, exile, enslavement, lives of terrible uncertainly and upheaval, תחת אשר לא עבדת את ד' אלקיך בשמחה ובטוב לבב מרב כל (“Because you did not serve Ha-Shem your G-d with joy [simha] and goodness of heart [uvë-tuv lévav] from an abundance of everything”; ibid., 47). The Talmud quotes this verse, and asks: איזו עבודה שהיא בשמחה ובטוב לב הוי אימר זו שירה (“What service is with simha and tuv lév? I would say, this is song [shira]”; ערכין י"א.).

So in the midst of plenty, all the blessings of Ha-Shem, Israel did not sing as they performed their service; for this, all the gruesome horrors of Jewish history have been heaped upon us?!. How is this justified?


B.


The great Rabbi Eliyahu Eli‘ezer Dessler זצ"ל, in his classic work the Michtav Mé-Eliyahu, discusses the conditions of gratitude (in Hebrew, hakkarath ha-tov, literally, “recognition of good”) and ingratitude (këfiyath tova, which really means something like “extinguishing” or “averting” good, by refusing to recognise it gratefully). In the course of his discussion, he makes the observation that ‘Ésav possessed the midda, the “measure” of a notél, a “taker,” in that he saw it as his right and privilege to take whatever he wanted, as much as he was able, from the world, on the theory that בשבילי נברא העולם, “For me [alone] was the world created!”; עיי' למשל סנהדרין ל"ז.), such that he is entitled to everything in it.

Such a terrible characteristic, continues Rabbi Dessler, inevitably leads to another bad midda in that he becomes këfuy tova, ungrateful for each and every good thing, for he is convinced that it is his by right and entitlement. Këfiyath tova leads to permanent dissatisfaction, envy and hatred, because the mere fact that anyone has anything which the këfuy tova would find desirable means that he is being victimized, that what he sees as his property by right is being wrongfully withheld from him. It is this sense of permanent dissatisfaction which underlies ‘Ésav’s remark on his reunion with his brother Ya‘aqov: יש לי רב, “I have much” (rov; Genesis XXXIII, 9), much but not everything, and so not enough (מכתב מאלי' ח"א קונטרס החסד פ"א וי"א).

This may be contrasted with Ya‘aqov’s character, exemplified by what he told ‘Ésav: כי חנני אלקים וכי יש לי כל (“...For G-d has been gracious to me, for I have everything [kol]”; ibid., 11). Ya‘aqov’s midda, by contrast, is that of a nothén, a “giver,” whose purpose in life is to do for others, to perform Ha-Shem’s mitzvoth out of sheer love of G-d, as a gift to Him; such a person is filled with a sense of gratitude. Indeed, the very generality of the sense is suggested by the slight grammatical anomaly between the terms hakkarath ha-tov and këfiyath tova. As my good friend Rabbi Dr Alan Corré שליט"א has pointed out to me in a different context, the masculine gender of the word tov indicates the quality of goodness in general, whilst the feminine tova points to any singular act or instance of goodness (for other examples, cf. shoshan, a lily motif, in e.g. I Kings VII, 19, 22, 26, vs, shoshanna, a single lily; dema‘, “weeping,” tears in general, vs. dim‘a, a single tear; geva‘, “hill-country,” vs., giv‘a, a single hill; and so on). Ya‘aqov’s general attitude is thus suggested by his prayer as he awaited ‘Ésav’s arrival: קטנתי מכל החסדים ומכל האמת אשר עשית את עבדך (“I am less [literally, ‘smaller’] than all the kindnesses and all the truth which You have done with Your servant”; Genesis XXXII, 11).

This is the quality with which G-d wished Ya‘aqov’s descendants to be imbued.


C.


With this in mind, our passage becomes relevant. The hint lies in the accusation being made against Israel, that we have not served Ha-Shem with joy mé-rov kol, “from,” that is, “because of” a sense that we have rov kol, “much of everything,” but not, in fact, everything.

In other words, our final exile, this one in which we have been immured for so long, with such a horrific history, came about because, in the Torah’s judgment, by the end of the Second Temple Period Israel had begun to adopt the morés of the prevailing culture, that of the Romans, descendants of Edom, that is, ‘Ésav, the overlords of that day. They had begun to become a bit këfuyei tova, which led to tzaruth ‘ayin (“envy, stinginess”), which tended to amplify every difference and disagreement between one Jew and another, resulting in the infamous sin’ath hinnam, “groundless hatred” between Jews, culminating in the Jewish War, the destruction of the Second Temple, as the Talmud informs us (יומא ט.), and our present exile.


D.


How to solve the problem? Hazal relate the phrase simha vë-tuv lévav, as we see, to shira, and shira, quite simply, is a metaphor for Torah: ועתה כתבו לכם את השירה הזאת ולמדה את בני ישראל שימה בפיהם למען תהי' לי השירה הזאת לעד בבני ישראל, Moshe enjoins is later: “Write for yourselves this shira and teach it to the bënei Yisra’él, place it in their mouths, so that I shall have this shira amongst the bënei Yisra’él for ever”; XXXI, 19; ועיי' בענין זיהוי השירה בתורה סנהדרין כ"א: ועירובין נ"ד: בין השאר). Learning Torah, teaching Torah, observing Torah, not as a burden but in the spirit of Yisra’él sabba, of our Grandfather Ya‘aqov, amidst love and joy, in the critical mass of most, if not all, of Israel will surely counter the sin’ath hinnam.

The Maharal mi-Prag, points out another way in which the shira of Torah is related to rov kol, in that כאשר יש לאדם עושר ראוי לו ללמוד ביותר בתורה אחר שיש לי כל וגו' (“when a man has wealth it is fitting for him to learn more Torah, since he has everything”), deriving the principle from our verse. Engaging in the shira mé-rov kol, then, is in his view a given, והפך זה העוני מבטל את האדם מתורתו שאי אפשר לו לעסוק בתורה שצריך להשתדל אחר מזונו ומחייתו (“and the opposite of this, poverty abates a man from his Torah, for it is impossible for him to engage in Torah, since he must scramble after his sustenance and livelihood”; דרך חיים פ"ד מ"ט ). Indeed, Hazal tell us: איזהו עשיר השמח בחלקו (“Who is wealthy? One who is happy with his lot”; תמיד ל"ב.), and: כל המבטל את התורה מעושר סופו לבטלה מעוני (“Anyone who neglects the Torah from wealth is destined to neglect it from poverty”; אבות פ"ד מי"א).

The month of Tishrei with its quartet of holy days, Rosh ha-Shana, Yom ha-Kippurim, Sukkoth, and Shëmini ‘Atzereth, is fast approaching us. No Jewish observance better exemplifies the principle of hakkarath ha-tov than Sukkoth, called by Hazal not coincidentally in our tëfilloth, zëman simhathénu, “the time of our rejoicing.” Sukkoth occurs at the harvest, specifically at the time when a person is most likely to feel the sense that yésh lo kol, “he has everything.” At this very time, Israel are enjoined to demonstrate their character as nothënim, “givers,” in that throughout the seven days of Sukkoth, 70 qorbanoth, for the benefit of the 70 other nations, are brought in the Béyth ha-Miqdash, Israel’s own qorban occurring only on the eighth day, the final holiday of Shëmini ‘Atzereth.

And during the entire time the seventy qorbanoth are being offered, each ish mi-Yisra’él leaves his permanent home to dwell in a temporary hut, one whose roof is typically constructed of the discarded remains of the harvest, stalks, branches, and vines, a demonstration that, even with regard to his life in this world, he dwells bë-tzilla di-mheimnutha, “in the shade of faith,” as the sëfarim ha-qëdoshim term the sëchach, the thatch on the hut.

We must persist in this eternal shira, we may not despair, for this spirit is destined to triumph in the world around us: והי' כל הנותר מכל הגוים הבאים על ירושלם ועלו מדי שנה בשנה להשתחות למלך ד' צב-אות ולחג את חג הסכות (“And it will be, the remnant of all the nations coming against Jerusalem will ascend, year on year, to bow to the king of Ha-Shem Tzë-vaoth, and to observe the holiday of Sukkoth”; Zechariah XIV, 16).

“Ésav’s këfiyath tova will vanish, to be replaced by hakkarath ha-tov, as the nations come to sit with us bë-tzilla di-mheimnutha.

Parshath Ki Thavo’ (Deuteronomy XXVI,1-XXIX,8) 8/28/10

A.

Our parasha opens with the commandment that Israel’s farmers bring the bikkurim, the first fruits of the seven species through which Eretz Yisra’él is praised (olives, dates, figs, pomegranates, grapes, wheat, and barley; cf. Deuteronomy VIII, 8) to המקום אשר יבחר ד' אלקיך לשכן שמו שם (“the place where Ha-Shem your G-d chooses to make His name dwell”; XXVI, 2-3).

As our passage makes clear, the proximate cause of this is an expression of simple hakkarath ha-tov, gratitude, for the decent harvest: ושמחת בכל הטוב אשר נתן לך ד' אלקיך ולביתך וגו' (“And you will rejoice in all the goodness which Ha-Shem your G-d has given you and your household....”; ibid., 11). However, this verse is preceded by a remarkable recitation which the farmer makes: ארמי אבד אבי וירד מצרימה ויגר שם במתי מעט ויהי שם לגוי גדול עצום ורב: וירעו אתנו המצרים ויענונו ויתנו עלינו עבודה קשה: ונצעק אל ד' אלקי אבתינו וישמע ד' את קלנו וירא את ענינו ואת עמלנו ואת לחצנו: ויוציאנו ד' ממצרים ביד חזקה ובזרוע נטוי' ובמורא גדול ובאותות ובמפתים: ויבאנו אל המקום הזה ויתן לנו את הארץ הזאת ארץ זבת חלב ודבש: (“A wandering Aramean was my father, and he went down to Egypt and dwelt there in small numbers, and became there a great, mighty, and numerous nation. And the Egyptians mistreated us and tormented us and placed upon us hard labor. And we cried out to Ha-Shem, G-d of our fathers, and Ha-Shem heard our voice and saw our poverty and our labor and our oppression. And Ha-Shem brought us out of Egypt with a strong hand and an outstretched arm and with great fear and signs and wonders. And He brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey”; vv, 3-9).

In short, the farmer expresses gratitude not merely for Ha-Shem’s role in satisfying his immediate needs, but also for Ha-Shem’s role in guiding all of Israel’s history, from the time of the patriarchs until his day. As we shall see, this is a most appropriate preface to the rest of this parasha.

B.

A bit later on, Moshe declares: היום הזה ד' אלקיך מצוך לעשות את החקים האלה ואת המשפטים ושמרת ועשית אותם בכל לבבך ובכל נפשך: (“This day Ha-Shem your G-d is commanding you to perform these laws [ha-huqqim ha-élle] and the judgments [mishpatim] and you will keep [vë-shamarta] and perform [vë-‘asitha] them with all your heart and with all your soul”; ibid., 16).

Rashi explains Moshe’s intent: בכל יום יהיו בעיניך חדשים כאלו בו ביום נצטוית עליהם (“Every day they should be new in your eyes, as if that very day you were commanded concerning them”).
Consider the historical context of Moshe’s remarks: The Torah had been commanded forty years before, at the foot of Mt. Sinai. Israel had spent most of the subsequent forty years familiarising themselves with the Torah’s contents (the huqqim), analyzing them and formulating their ramifications and applications (the mishpatim, exercises of human judgment), committing the results to memory to preserve them and pass them on to future generations (vë-shamarta), and ordering their lives according to those results (vë-‘asitha).

It was thus impossible for the mitzvoth with their huqqim and mishpatim to be “new” in any ordinary sense of the word when Moshe uttered these words, as though they had never heard them before. Rather, what was new, what was just about to change, were the circumstances of their lives. Having spent forty years wandering the desert in a cocoon of miracles, protected and supported in a gigantic kolel so that the entire nation could engage in full-time learning, they were now about to embark on a war of conquest, followed by the division of the land amongst the tribes and the beginning of a settled, agricultural economy in which the precepts they had been learning would be applied and observed.

Moshe’s message, then, was that the Torah is timeless, that the stuff of the huqqim, faithfully preserved and carefully applied through the processes of mishpat, would serve to order and adapt their new lives to it, as they had in the past and would in future.

We find similar language again, a bit later, in XXVII, 9-10: היום הזה נהיית לעם לד' אלקיך: ושמעת בקול ד' אלקיך ועשית את מצותו ואת חקיו אשר אנכי מצוך היום: (“...This day you have become Ha-Shem your G-d’s people. And you shall listen to the voice of Ha-Shem your G-d, and perform His mitzvoth and His huqqim which I am commanding you today”), and the Talmud asks our question, thereby cementing the relationship between Israel’s nationhood and the Torah: וכי אותו היום נתנה תורה לישראל והלא אותו יום סוף ארבעים שנה הי'?! (“And was it then ‘that day’ that Torah was given to Israel? Was not ‘that day’ at the end of forty years?”; ברכות ס"ג:).

Rabbi Shimshon Rëfa’él Hirsch follows up to say that this was precisely why Moshe made his pronouncement on "that day," before the inception of Israel’s invasion of the Holy Land, to demonstrate that, unlike other nations whose national identity is a matter of ethnicity, a common country, and a state, Israel’s national identity begins and ends with Torah and mitzvoth. The Holy Land is holy because so many mitzvoth can only be performed there; the value of a state is its establishment of essential Torah institutions such as the Béyth ha-Miqdash and the Sanhedrin, i.e., it lies in its relation to the Torah.

With all of the above in mind, the word hadash, conventionally translated “new,” in Rashi’s comment bears re-examination. Applying our etymological theory of primal roots, the word appears to be based on a basic root dalet-vav-shin with a radical prefix héth. The primal root underlies the word dash, which means “threshing cereals” in both Hebrew and Aramaic. Threshing is a process by which the kernels are freed from the stalks and chaff, so that they can be ground into flour and put to productive use. Interestingly, Hazal employ this word to refer to sexual intercourse, which properly has a productive purpose (עיי' למשל נדה מ"א: ופסחים פ"ז:).
I have elsewhere suggested that the radical prefix héth is an intensive form of hé’, which has a causative sense (on the strength of the causative hif‘il conjugation), and so we may surmise that hadash refers to something “new” or ”renewed” by virtue of its being stripped of its carapace to reveal its essentials (i.e. analyzed) to serve a productive end. This fits perfectly with the mitzva that one engage in daily, intensive Torah-learning, revealing fresh insights and deeper understanding through the processes of mishpat. This, in my humble opinion, is what Rashi is getting at.

C.

Therefore: ארור אשר לא יקים את דברי התורה הזאת לעשות אותם ואמר כל העם אמן (“Cursed is anyone who will not uphold the words of this Torah to perform them, and the entire people will say, amen”; XXVII, 26). Rashi tells us: כאן כלל את כל התורה כולה וקבלו' עליהם באלה ושבועה (“Here he included the entire Torah, and they accepted it upon themselves with an imprecation and an oath”).

Ramban builds on this to tell us what Moshe really means: אם יכפור באחת מהן או תהי' בעיניו בטלה לעולם הנה הוא ארור, אבל אם עבר על אחת מהן כגון שאכל את החזיר והשקץ לתאותו כו' איננו בחרם הזה כי לא אמר הכתוב "אשר לא יעשה את דברי התורה הזאת" אלא אמר "לא יקים את דברי התורה הזאת" לעשות כטעם "קימו וקבלו היהודים" והנה הוא טעם המורדים והכופרים כו' ואפילו הוא צדיק גמור במעשיו והי' יכול להחזיק התורה ביד הרשעי' המבטלי' אותה הרי זה ארור וגו' (“If one denies one of them, or it becomes in his eyes nullified forever, behold he is cursed; but if he has transgressed one of them, for instance, he has eaten pig or some crawling thing to satisfy his appetite... He is not [included] in this ban, for Scripture does not say ‘anyone who will not perform the words of this Torah,’ but rather says ‘anyone who will not uphold the words of this Torah,’ to perform in accordance with ‘the Yëhudim upheld and accepted’ [Esther IX, 27]; and behold, this is the reasoning of the rebels and deniers.... And even if one is a complete tzaddiq in one’s [own] deeds, [who] would be able to uphold the Torah in the hands of the evil-doers who nullify it [and does not], this person is cursed....”).

In other words, the curse does not apply to ordinary sinners; people who recognize and acknowledge the truth, but stumble on the way can be led to tëshuva. Rather, it applies to those who would numb their consciences by denying the Torah’s validity, by alleging that it is no longer relevant, and that there is some other basis to Israel’s nationhood.

The effect of such an outlook was graphically demonstrated by the fate of the northern kingdom of Israel, whose inhabitants were exiled eastwards by the Assyrians. When the Assyrians’ Babylonian successors meted out a similar fate to the inhabitants of the southern kingdom of Yëhuda about a century later, the northern tribes were nowhere to be found. They had melted away, assimilated to the local, surrounding populations.

The Yëhudim had a somewhat greater sense of national cohesion because they had had the béyth ha-Miqdash in their midst, but were ultimately spared the fate of their northern cousins by the miracle of Purim, brought about by a national wave of tëshuva, to whose culminating event Ramban alludes in his comment above: "קיימו וקבלו היהודים" – קיימו מה שקבלו כבר (“‘The Yëhudim upheld and accepted’ – they upheld what they had already [previously] accepted”; שבועות ל"ט.), the Torah and its mitzvoth.

D.

These two passages contain the entire secret of understanding Jewish history, and of Jewish survival in the face of the world’s unremitting hostility. Nothing can harm us if our adhesion to the Torah ha-qëdosha remains intact.

However, כל ישראל ערבין זה בזה (“All Israel are responsible for one another”; שבועות שם). The meaning of the last statement quoted from Ramban supra becomes clear. Whilst it is vitally important that we continue to learn, to deepen our own understanding of the ramifications and details of the mitzvoth, huqqim, and mishpatim discussed herein, it is as important that we reach out to our estranged brethren, that those who know something, even if a little, nonetheless seek to uphold the Torah on which the rësha‘im have laid hands, and impart it to those who know less. It is incumbent on us to lead lives as though we live in the proverbial “goldfish bowl,” in the hope that others may be inspired to follow the example.

So, even someone who is otherwise a tzaddiq gamur, but is indifferent to the state of the general Jewish society around him, can come to be included in the curse.

In this coming new year, with all the gathering clouds on the horizon threatening aheinu bënei Yisra’él in our Holy Land, it is good to remember that G-d directs our history, and that we have some input into its course, by upholding our national identity in Torah and mitzvoth, learning ourselves and strengthening our own observance, and taking the many opportunities we have to help our estranged brethren recognize what they, too, can and must do.