Parshath Aharei Moth-Qëdoshim (Leviticus XVI,1-XX,27) 4/23/10

A.

This week’s double parasha contains a very comprehensive list of illicit liaisons to be avoided in the interests of actualizing and maintaining the level of sanctity necessary in Israel. Before Ma‘amad Har Sinai we were told that our purpose was to serve as a ממלכת כהנים וגוי קדוש, a “kingdom of kohanim and holy nation” (Exodus XIX, 6). Now, we are told again, קדשים תהיו, “you will be holy” (XIX, 2), and again והתקדשתם והייתם קדשים (“And you will sanctify yourselves and be holy”; XX, 7), and yet again: והייתם לי קדשים כי קדש אני ד' ואבדל אתכם מן העמים להיות לי (“And you will be sacred to Me for I, Ha-Shem, am holy; and I have separated you from the nations to be Mine”; ibid., 26).

Prominent in that list, first mentioned in Chapter XVIII and re-emphasized in Chapter XX, is the following: ואיש אשר יקח את אחתו בת אביו או בת אמו וראה את ערותה והיא תראה את ערותו חסד הוא וגו' (“And a man who rakes his sister, daughter of his father or of his mother, and sees her nakedness, and she sees his nakedness, it is a hesed....”; XX, 17).

To anyone possessed of a living sense of the Hebrew language, the statement is a jarring peculiarity. Hesed is a well-known and common Hebrew word which occurs hundreds of times in Tanach with roughly the meaning “kindness.” In what way is this word applicable here? After all, as the verse goes on to state: ונכרתו לעיני בני עמם ערות אחתו גלה עונו ישא (“...and they will be cut off from the eyes of their people; he has uncovered his sister’s nakedness, he will bear his sin”).

B.

The Talmud offers one solution, which Rashi cites: א"ת קין נשא אחותו חסד עשה המקום לבנות עולמו ממנו שנאמר "עולם חסד יבנה" (“If you say, Qayin married his sister, G-d did a hesed in order to build His world from [Qayin], as it is said, ‘The world is built of hesed’ [Psalms LXXXIX, 3]”).

In short, the Talmud reads this as though the term hesed refers to an original, one-time dispensation which was granted at the dawn of creation, in order to enable the human race to get underway. There were originally, after all, only two people; the next generation consisted entirely of their descendants. If siblings were not permitted to marry, whom, exactly, would they marry and how would the human race carry forth its imperative of פרו ורבו וצלאו את הארץ (“be fruitful and multiply and fill up the earth”; Genesis I, 28)? Hence, G-d did a hesed with His creatures to permit them to go forward (עיי' סנהדרין נ"ח: וע"ע מאמר זה במלאו בירושלמי יבמות פי"א ה"א ודברי קרבן העדה ופני משה שם).

Well and good, but that dispensation had taken place a long time before Mattan Torah, and had already come to an end, since bënei Noach are partially forbidden this relationship (עיי' רמב"ם הל' מלכים פ"ט ה"ה), and the Torah forbids it completely to Israel, regardless of whether she is one’s sister on the father’s side or on the mother’s side.

Rashi himself terms this a midrashic interpretation of the verse, and offers a different suggestion for the simple meaning of the word. Hesed, he tells us, is a לשון ארמי חרפה, an “Aramaic expression [meaning] an object of reproach or contempt”).

Thereupon hangs an observation with very deep significance indeed for Israel.

C.

Rashi has put his finger on a rare occurrence in the Torah, one in which an Aramaic word appears all by itself in a context in which all the other words are Hebrew (for a second example, compare Deuteronomy XXXIII, 2, in which vë-atha, “and he came,” appears where we might expect u-va’). It must be emphasized that this is an entirely different phenomenon from that of Genesis XXXI, 46, the only occurrence of a connected Aramaic phrase, yëgar sahadutha, in the Torah. This is recognised as a foreign phrase, since it is translated in the same verse into Hebrew, gal‘éd, “mound of testimony.” Our case is an instance in which the word is used as if it is a Hebrew word.

Aramaic and Hebrew are closely related languages, and share a number of roots between them, though more usually with some phonetic change. In the case of our verse, the word appears identical with a Hebrew word whose meaning is rather nearly the reverse of the Aramaic word. Rabbi Yochanan Zweig, shlit”a, has taken note of this apparent reversal, and suggested that it may be explained by a major difference in the world-views of Hebrew and Aramaic, respectively.

To point up that difference, he reminds us that the Ba‘al ha-Turim famously notes that the letters of the word Arammi, “Aramaean”, also form the form the word rammai, “trickster”(Genesis XXV, 20; ע"ע בראשית רבי פס"ג סי' ד'). The Torah contains several examples of devious Aramaean behavior, that of Lavan (Genesis XXIX, 27); his descendant Bil‘am ben Bë‘or (Numbers XXI, 6, Rashi ad loc.; עיי' זוה"ק ח"א קס"ו:), as well as his sister Rivqa (Genesis XXVII, 1-25), and daughter Rahél (עיי' מגילה י"ג:).

The last two are of the greatest interest to us, since Rivqa, Rahél, and her sister Lé’a are the direct ancestresses of the Jewish people, and Avraham was adamant that his son Yitzhaq marry a girl from Aram (Genesis XXIV, 4, 10), as in deed Yitzhaq instructed Ya‘aqov (ibid., XXVIII, 2).

Why should this be? What is it about ramma’uth, “trickery,” that recommends it as an essential ingredient in the ancestry of the Holy Nation, such that the patriarchs ensured that Israel got a double dose of it?

Rabbi Zweig suggests that an essential part of the character of a confidence man is an ability to empathize with his victim, to “feel his pain,” as one of the greatest political confidence men of the 20th century was wont to say. It is only in this way, he suggests, that the trickster is able to tailor his message to the victim, so that the victim will be taken in, and will trust the trickster. The emphasis, then, of the Aramaic language is outward, toward the object of the action; it follows that the thrust of the Holy Language is inward, toward introspection, and the feelings and attitudes of the subject of the action.

We see this at work in the very word at issue in our verse. When one does a hesed, there are two sides to the phenomenon. On the one hand, from the point of view of the person who performs the act (whatever it is), it is a gracious act of kindness, wholly meritorious. From the point of view of the one receiving the hesed, though, it is something else. He is now under obligation to the person performing the act. No matter how graciously the act has been performed, the recipient will feel uncomfortable until or unless he has been able to pay it back, to requite the act in some fashion. In short, the Hebrew meaning of the word hesed views the term subjectively, from the point of view of the performer of the act; the Aramaic meaning with its overtones of shame views it objectively, from the point of view of the recipient.

This fundamental fact of human psychology underlies the Rambam’s classification of tzëdaqa: The highest form of tzëdaqa is to enable the recipient to earn his own living, so that he no longer needs charity; the second greatest is a mattana bë-sether, a gift in secret, such that neither the donor nor the recipient knows the other’s identity, and the donor therefore cannot feel superior in some regard to the recipient, nor can the recipient feel ashamed in the face of the specific donor (רמב"ם הל' צדקה פ ה).

(Another example, by the way, of such a reversal in the meaning of a root which serves to con-firm Rabbi Zweig’s observation may be found in comparison of the Hebrew word שכח, shachah, "forget," and Aramaic אשכח, ashkah, “find”. Here again, forgetting is subjective, on the part of the person who has lost the object; finding is objective, relating to the object lost).

D.

From the mirror images of the word hesed, viewed as a Hebrew word, from the point of view of the giver, or as an Aramaic word, from the point of view of the recipient, we can see why it was that this quality of empathy, of being sensitive to the other person’s feelings, is essential to the Holy nation, if we are to perform mitzvoth properly. in such a fashion that they only effect good things, and do not, G-d forbid, cause pain or hardship to others.

From our own point of view, as we know (for instance) from the patriarch Avraham, there is a great wellspring of the desire and zeal to do good, to benefit others in whatever way we can. It is our matriarchs Rivqa, Rahél, and Lé’a, who provide us with the sensitivity to see the other’s point of view, and act with care and discretion in response to that imperative, so as not ever to hurt anyone unnecessarily. It is only by exercising both the patriarchal and the matriarchal heritage of Israel that we are able to fulfill the injunction with which G-d introduces the list of forbidden liaisons: ושמרתם את לקתי ואת משפטי אשר יעשה אתם האדם וחי בהם (“And you will keep My laws and My judgments, which a person should do and live by them”; XVIII, 5). “Living by them” requires that we be sensitive both to the way in which we perform mitzvoth, and to their effects on others.

Parshath Qedoshim (Leviticus XIX.1-XX,27) 5/2/08

A.

ובגד כלאים שעטנז לא יעלה עליך (“And a mixed garment, sha’âtnéz, will not arise upon you;” XIX, 19).

The definition of sha’âtnéz, the subject of our verse, is a garment made specifically of wool and linen together (cf. Deuteronomy XXII, 11).

In several places, the Talmud raises the question of whether or not the obligation to perform mitzvoth continues after death. In the case of sha’âtnéz, specifically, we learn: בגד שאבד בו כלאים כו' עושה ממנו תכריכין למת. אמר רב יוסף זאת אומרת מצות בטלות לעתיד לבא. א"ל אביי ואי תימא רב דימי, א"ר מני א"ר ינאי, לא שנו אלא לספדו אבל לקוברו אסור. א"ל לאו אתמר עלה א"ר יוחנן אפילו לקברו? ור' יוחנן לטעמי' דא"ר יוחנן מאי דכתיב "במתים חפשי"? כיון שמת אדם נעשה חפשי מן המצות (“A garment containing sha’âtnéz... one may make of it shrouds [tachrichin] for the dead. Said Rav Yosef, 'This means [that] the mitzvoth are annulled for the future.' Said Abbaye, and if you say, Rav Dimi, to him: 'Said Rabbi Mani in the name of Rabbi Yannai, "They learnt this only concerning [the dead person’s] eulogy [hesped], but to bury him [in sha’âtnéz] is forbidden."' [Rav Yosef] rejoined, 'Is it not said about this, "Said Rabbi Yochanan, 'Even to bury him?'"' Rabbi Yochanan is following his own reasoning, for Rabbi Yochanan said, 'Why is it written "Concerning the dead, [one is] free [Psalms LXXXVIII, 6]?" Once a person has died he is made free of the mitzvoth;'” נדה ס"א: ).

Though the halacha in these cases generally follows Rabbi Yochanan’s opinion עיי' למשל בהאי גונא רמב"ם הל' כלאים פ"י הכ"ה ושו"ע יו"ד סי' ש"א סעיף ז', אבל ע"ע מעדני יום טוב שם בנדה ס"ק ב' ), it is interesting and noteworthy that the Taz sees fit to add: וכל שכן בבגדים שעושין לו להספד דבבגדים שקוברין אותו הוא עתיד לעמוד בהם (“And of course [sha’âtnéz] is permitted in garments made for [the dead person’s] hesped, since the clothes in which they bury him , he is destined to stand up in them”; ס"ק ט' וע"ע באר היטב שם ס"ק ז').

In other words, the reasoning of Rabbi Yannai et al. is that, whatever the situation whilst one is dead, it is incontrovertible that the shomrei mitzvoth are destined to be resurrected after the advent of Mashiach, and any who have been so unfortunate as to be buried in tachrichin made of sha’âtnéz will find themselves in immediate violation of the prohibition in our verse! What is more, we find similar logic applied elsewhere in the question of whether tachrichin made in the form of a four cornered garment require tzitzith (cf. Numbers XV, 37-41) on the corners ( מנחות מ"א., ובשני הענינים ע"ע עבודה זרה ס"ה:, תוס' שם ד"ה אבל ), though in the latter case, there is no distinction made between hesped and burial.

This raises a couple of interesting questions:

(1) How do Rabbi Yochanan et al. deal with the problem of the clothing of the resurrected dead? And even according to Rabbi Yannai et al,. why does it make any difference whether we are dressing the corpse for the hesped or for final burial?

The matter is sharpened when we take note that one who says: הריני נזיר ביום שבן דוד בא, מותר לשתות יין בשבתות ובימים טוסים ואסור לשתות יין כל ימות החול (“I shall become a nazir on the day the son of David [i.e., Mashiach] comes is permitted to drink wine on shabbathoth and yamim tovim and forbidden to drink wine all the [other] days;” עירובין מ"ג.), since we have to expect the advent of Mashiach at any time (רש"י שםדה"נ כל). If so, what prevents Mashiach from declaring himself whilst we are in the middle of a hesped, in which case the recently departed would be resurrected and suddenly find himself in the same position as his previously buried fellows?

(2) Having dealt with the first issue, why does the distinction of hesped and burial not apply, according to anyone, in the matter of tzitzith on tachrichin?

B.

In search of answers, we first note that, in addition to clear-cut cases of Biblical sha’âtnéz, the halacha also takes into account certain marginal cases prohibited on Rabbinical authority, either because some other material sufficiently resembles wool or linen that someone else might think one is violating the prohibition (mar’ith âyin), or certain temporary instances, otherwise unobjectionable, in which one might forget and actually wear the garment (e.g., a linen laundry tag stitched to a woolen garment or vice versa; רמב"ם שם, הכ"ז).

Needless to say, such rabbinical prohibitions (issurei d’rabbanan), though they must be observed (cf. Deuteronomy XVII, 8-12), are not as stringent in their ramifications as actual violations of the written Torah’s provisions (issurei d’Oraitha). Thus, a bit later in the Shulchan Âruch we learn: הרואה כלאים של תורה על חבירו, אפילו הי' מהלך בשוק, קופץ לו וקורעו מעליו מיד ואפילו הי' רבו כו' ואם הי' של דבריהם אינו קורעו מעליו ואינו פושטו בשוק עד שמגיע לביתו וגו' (“One who sees Torah sha’âtnéz on one’s fellow, even if he is walking in the marketplace, leaps to him and tears it off him immediately, even if [the fellow] is his rabbi... And if it is rabbinical [sha’âtnéz], one need not tear it from him and undress him in the marketplace, [but waits] until he reaches his home....” שם סי' ש"ג סעיף א').

The stringency of the Biblical commandment requires drastic action as soon as the violation has been noted, even at the considerable expense of embarrassing one’s teacher and mentor in public; the Rabbinical decrees are not so serious.

Hereon, I think, lies the key to the matter. It seems to me, in light of the above, that both Rabbi Yannai and Rabbi Yochanan are considering not sha’âtnéz d’Oraitha, but sha’âtnéz d’Rabbanan. Were it not so, given what we have already learnt, it is hard to see how Rabbi Yannai could permit tachrichei sha’âtnéz under any circumstances, however temporary, since removal of the issur d’Oraitha so clearly takes precedence over kvod ha-briyoth, “the honor of [G-d’s] creatures,” unlike the d’Rabbanan. This said, the difference between Rabbi Yannai and Rabbi Yochanan appears to come down to the applicability of a principle called lo’êg la-rash (roughly, mocking the helpless méth; cf. Proverbs XVII, 5).

As Rabbi Yannai sees the matter, it is all right to dress the méth in tachrichin made with sha’âtnéz d’Rabbanan for the occasion of the hesped, if such tachrichin are the best available, despite the possibility that Mashiach might make his appearance during the hesped and the dead be revived, since he would then be able to proceed with dignity, decently dressed in his tachrichin, to a private place to change his clothes. Burial, however, is a different matter. The grave is a private place, and so the méth, resurrected from the grave, would be obligated immediately to change his clothes and, of course, there will be none at hand. Hence, burial in sha’âtnéz, even sha’âtnéz d’Rabbanan, constitutes lo’êg la-rash.

Rabbi Yochanan, for his part, appears to have no problem with lo’êg la-rash. Once one is dead, he is dead, and the mitzvoth are no longer his concern. Hence, from his standpoint, even sha’âtnéz d’Oraitha could be used for tachrichin. What will happen in the Messianic Era will be decided then.

C.

If we turn to yet a third place in the Shulchan Âruch, we can discern how sha’âtnéz and tzitzith differ in this application. Concerning tzitzith, we are informed: אם נודע לו בשבת בכרמלית שהטלית שעליו פסול לא יסירנו מעליו עד שיגיע לביתו דגדול כבוד הבריות (“If one becomes aware on shabbath in a karmelith [a semi-enclosed area in which carrying would be permissible on shabbath] that the tallith he is wearing is pasul, he need not remove it until he reaches his home, for great is the honour of [G-d’s] creatures;” או"ח סי' י"ג סעיף ג'). On this, the Rema amplifies, in part: ודוקא בשבת דאסור לעשות ציצית אבל בחול כהאי גוונא אסור (“And it is specifically on shabbath [that wearing the tallith psula is permitted] for it is forbidden to make tzitzith, but on a weekday in such case it is forbidden”).

In other words, the only time that kvod ha-briyoth takes precedence is shabbath, because it is impossible to repair the garment and correct the problem; on any other day, the tallith psula must be removed immediately, even in public.

This being so, there is no circumstance in which it would be permitted for the méth to wear tachrichin in the form of a tallith psula, given Rabbi Yannai’s view of things. In the grave, he would be obligated on remove the offending garment immediately on resurrection; at the hesped, the same would be the case. The exemption of the public event does not apply, since (as we have already learnt above) Mashiach will not reveal himself on shabbath or yom tov. For Rabbi Yochanan, of course, there is no problem, since the méth is not obligated in the mitzva of tzitzith, and he does not believe in lo’êg la-rash.

D.

It remains to be seen why the halacha is like Rabbi Yochanan, and why he does not agree concerning the application of lo’êg la-rash.

At first glance, Rabbi Yannai’s position appears to be the most reasonable. A dead person is incontrovertibly helpless, and cannot prepare himself for burial. The people who do engage in such acts in every organised Jewish community, the Chevra Qadisha or “Sacred Society,” are said to be engaged in a chesed shel emeth, a truly altruistic act of kindness, since the méth is unlikely to be in a position to repay it. Under such circumstances, and confident of the eventual advent of Mashiach and subsequent resurrection of the dead, surely to bury the méth in tachrichei sha’âtnéz, and thereby set him up so that immediately upon revival he would be guilty of a violation of halacha (even though it is a d’Rabbanan), is a quintessential case of lo’êg la-rash. What sort of chesed would that be?

But ponder a bit and see a bit deeper. The Rambam, in the final chapters of Hilchoth Mlachim, assures us that in the Messianic Age the laws of nature will not change. All of the prophecies concerning the lion lying down with the lamb, and so on, are allegorical on the physical level; we will understand them when see them fulfilled.

However, this is not entirely true of halachoth, particularly halachoth d’Rabbanan. We know, for instance, that the many rulings which today follow the opinion of Béyth Hillel will in that age follow the opinion of Béyth Shammai.

Rabbi Yochanan, it seems to me, is cautioning us not to pasqen for the future. As of now, people die, and when they do, they are free of mitzvoth. What will be when (perhaps next week) Mashiach reveals himself and the dead are resurrected will be dealt with at that time. Mashiach will be preceded by Eliyahu the prophet, who will answer all of our questions. Leave the matter to him and his Sanhedrin.