Parashath Shofëtim (Deuteronomy XVI,18-XXI,9) 9/2/11

A.

Our parasha ends with the peculiar ceremony of the ‘egla ‘arufa, the “beheaded heifer.” As the Torah tells us, the circumstance is that a corpse is found lying in some field in the Holy Land; no-one knows who this person is, nor do the know how he died. The local rabbinic authorities, זקניך ושפטיך (“your elders and judges”), measure the relative distances from the surrounding towns to the site, to determine the one closest to the corpse. The authorities of that town are to take an עגלת בקר אשר לא עבד בה אשר לא משכה בעל: והורדו זקני העיר ההוא את העגלה אל נחל איתן אשר לא יעבד בו ולא יזרע וערפו שם את העגל בנחל: ונגשו הכהנים בני לוי כי בם בחר ד' אלקיך לשרתו ולברך בשם ד' ועל פיהם יהיו כל ריב וכל נגע: (“heifer of beef who has never been worked, has never drawn the yoke. And the elders of that town will bring the heifer down to a barren stream-bed [nahal eithan] which will never be worked nor sown. and they will behead there the heifer in the dry stream-bed. And the kohanim bënei Lévi will approach, for it is they whom Ha-Shem your G-d chose to serve Him and to bless in Ha-Shem’s name and according to them [is settled] every quarrel and every affliction”; XXI, 3-5).

The kohanim and the local rabbis wash their hands over the beheaded calf, and declare: ידינו לא שפכה את הדם הזה ועינינו לא ראו: כפר לעמך ישראל אשר פדית ד' ואל תתן דם נקי בקרב עמך ישראל ונכפר להם הדם: (“Our hands did not shed [lo’ shafëchu] this blood and our eyes did not see. Atone for Your people Israel whom You have redeemed, and put not innocent blood in the midst of Your people Israel; and the blood will be atoned them”; ibid., 7-8).

Two things stand out in this rather riveting ritual, and beg to be explained:

Rashi summarizes the Talmud (סוטה מ"ח:) in his comments in explanation of the declaration: וכי עלתה על לב שזקני בית דין שופכי דמים הם אלא לא ראינוהו ופטרנוהו בלא מזונות ובלא לוי' (“Did it enter the heart that the elders of the local court were shedders of blood!? Rather, ‘We did not see him and dismiss him without provisions and without an escort'”). In other words, had this poor fellow passed through our town, he would not have been allowed to proceed alone, unprotected, to an uncertain fate.

That said, two things in particular stand out in this passage, and beg to be interpreted:

(1) Why does the Torah make a point of ancestry of the kohanim, who here are engaged in their core function of maintaining the relationship between the Holy Nation and Ha-Shem by maintaining the peace, calling them bënei Lévi, specifically regarding this particular occurrence? After all, every kohén is a lineal descendant of Moshe’s older brother Aharon it has been no secret ere now that they are therefore Lëviyyim.

(2) The sharp-eyed reader with a living sense will have noted that the word “shed,” sha-fëchu, is spelt not with the expected vav on the end, but rather with a hé, suggesting a feminine singular verb (“she shed”), rather than a third person plural. Why?

B.

The Even ‘Ezra asks why it is so important that the nearest town to the unfortunate deceased be involved: ויתכן שהשם צוה לעשות כן העיר הקרובה כי לולי שעשו עבירה כדומה לה לא נזדמן להם שיהרג אדם קרוב מהם ומחשבות השם עמקו וגבהו לאין קץ אצלינו (“And it would seem that Ha-Shem commanded the nearest town to do this, because, had they not committed a transgression similar to [what Rashi mentions], it would not have occurred that a person would be killed near them; Ha-Shem’s thoughts are endlessly deep and exalted for us.”)

This comment would appear to be inspired, at least to some extent, by the final verse in our parasha: ואתה תבער הדם הנקי מקרבך כי תעשה הישר בעיני ד' (“And you shall expunge the innocent blood from your midst, for you will do what is upright in Ha-Shem’s eyes”).

If the declaration made by the town’s hachamim is accurate and not mere rhetoric (we assume as a matter of course that they have done their due diligence and found no glaring instance of callous behaviour of the sort mentioned) why does this unfortunate’s innocent blood need to be expunged? Of course the inhabitants should “do what is upright in Ha-Shem’s eyes,” regardless of the tragedy discovered in their vicinity.

Hazal apply the principle which the Even ‘Ezra discerns to be at work here in many arenas. For instance, concerning the case of a sota, a woman suspected of adultery (cf. Numbers V, 11-31), followed immediately by the account of a nazir, a person who vows to abstain from wine (ibid., VI, 1-21), the Talmud relates: תניא ר' אומר למה נסמכה פרשת נזיר לפרשת סוטה לומר לך שכל הרואה סוטה בקלקולה יזיר עצמו מן היין (“It is taught: Rabbi [Yëhuda ha-Nasi’] says, 'Anyone who sees a sota in her disgrace should vow to abstain from wine”; ברכות ס"ג. וע"ע סוטה ב. ונזיר ב.). That he came to witness such a sight should be viewed as primâ facie evidence that some flaw in his character is also being highlighted; similarly, in our case, if the elders are unable to unearth any obvious case of malfeasance which might have occasioned this person’s death, the only course is to try to strengthen the town’s general level of observance, especially of the mitzvoth she-bein adam la-havéro, (“mitzvoth between man and his fellow”) in hopes of catching and correcting whatever subtle problem is being indicated.

C.

With this in mind, let us take our question of the kohanim bënei Lévi.

Hazal tell us דהא כהנים מסטרא דחסד אתו ואע"ג דאחיד אהרן בהוד בחסד נמי אחיד (“that the kohanim come from the side of hesed [‘kindness’], even though Aharon is singled out by the [sëfira of] Hod, he is also singled out by hesed”; זוה"ק ח"א רנ"ו: בהשמטות). A bit later, the Zohar goes on to explain that Hod is indicative of gëvura (“might, power”; שם רס"ו:), so that we see that Aharon, and therefore his descendants, partake of both qualities.

As it happens, this dual-rootedness of the kohanim in hesed and gëvura appears to be a direct consequence of the Levitical heritage whence they sprang: פקודא דא להיות הלויים משוררים במקדש כו' הכא צריך לחדש מלין דהא כהן איהו מקריב קרבנא ואיהו מיכאל לוי איהו גבריאל איהו צריך לנגנא ורזא דמלה "יומם יצוה ד' חסדו" דא חסד כהנא רבא כו' "ובלילה שירה עמי" דא גבורה. שירה "בכור שורו הדר לו". "ופני שור מהשמאול" וגבריאל שלוחי' וגו' (“This mitzva that the Lëviyyim be singers [mëshorërim] in the Sanctuary... Here it is necessary to originate words, for a kohén is the one who brings sacrifice [and in this, functions like the angel] Micha’él; the Lévi is Gavri’él, he is obliged to sing. And the essence of the matter is ‘By day Ha-Shem commands His hesed’ [Psalms XLII, 9] – this is the hesed of the kohén gadol [since all sacrifices are offered by day]...’and by night, sing [shira], My people’ [ibid.] – this is gëvura. [The meaning of] ‘Shira’ [may be learnt from] ‘the first-born, His ox [shor] is His splendor’ [Deuteronomy XXXIII, 17]’; ‘And the face of a shor on the left’ [Ezekiel I, 10], and Gavri’él is His emissary....”; זוה"ק ח"ג קכ"א: ברעיא מהימנא ; the entire passage hangs on rabbinic puns, gëvura and Gavri’él sharing a root, and mëshorér, shira, and shor likewise sharing a primal root).

And: "קח את הלויים" וגו' הא אוקמוה דבעי לדכאה לון לאמשכא לון לאתקשרא באתרייהו בגין דאינון דרועא שמאלא וסטרא דדינא וגו' (“‘Take the Lëviyyim....’ [Numbers VIII, 6]; it is established that it is necessary to compel them, to draw them, to put them in their places, for they are of the left arm and the side of judgment [sitra dë-dina]....”; שם שם קנא:).

The kohanim, then, represent hesed arising from gëvura and din, responsible hesed, hesed which has some basis in the relative merits of those to whom it is applied. Once the original dispensation of unbridled hesed, unlimited and unrelated to its recipients’ merits (symbolized by the twenty-six verses of כי לעולם חסדו in Psalms CXXXVI, apposite the 26 generations from Creation to the generation of Exodus), which ran its course, and frustrated and blocked itself, necessitating Israel’s Exodus from Egypt and acceptance of the Torah to clear the blockage, whereupon Aharon and his sons were appointed kohanim to keep the renewed energy of hesed flowing, thus holding physical and metaphysical entropy at bay. But their management of Israel’s, and the world’s, relationship with Ha-Shem also necessitates their reaching deep into the Levitical roots.

The declaration of the local hachamim over the ‘egla ‘arufa that, to their knowledge, no-one in the nearby town was guilty of gross indifference or stinginess toward the unfortunate stranger found in the vacant field, is telling. Verse 5, after rehearsing that the kohanim are bënei Lévi, goes on to describe their function in resolving disputes and dealing with nëga‘im, afflictions of tzora‘ath. Hazal tell us, based on Leviticus XIII, 2-6, שהנגעים באים על צרות העין (“that the nëga‘im come because of stinginess”; יומא י"א:), at least those which afflict houses. But the determination that a given manifestation on the wall of one’s house is genuine tzora‘ath is made by a kohén....

Sometimes, the maintenance of the vital relationship between this world and the next requires gëvura and din in the sense of rochaha, “rebuke,” over the discovery of some neglected area of observance; in this case, an apparently subtle neglect of the mitzvoth bein adam la-havéro which led to the townspeople’s coming to witness, in their own backyard, as it were, so violent and horrifically ultimate a violation of those mitzvoth, that they might see and take heed....

That function of tochaha requires the gëvura and din inherent in the kohanim through their Levitical heritage.

D.

Which brings us to our orthographical oddity.

The Ém la-Miqra’ vëla-Massoreth notes that the phrase לא שפכה, as the words are written rather than lo’ shafëchu, “(they have not shed,” as they are read, consists of the initials of lëviya, achila, shëthiya, parnasath kol ha-derech (“escort, eating, drinking, provisioning for the whole way”), i.e. the very things which the town’s elders deny having neglected, and yet, as a result of whatever subtle flaw there has been in their observance of these very things, they have been, in however slight or indirect a fashion, parties to the premature departure of a human soul. The gimatriya or numerical value of the letter ה is “five,” and the complete human soul, known by the abbreviation נרנח"י (conventaionally vocalised neronhay, consists of five metaphysical components, from lowest to highest, nefesh, ruah, nëshama, hayya, yëhida.

Now that we are in the month of Elul, final month of the sacred year, it is customary every morning to sound the shofar, the ram’s horn whose plaintive call to tëshuva is meant to remind us, too, that even if our observance of the mitzvoth might seem exemplary, might even pass the muster of our own rabbinical authorities, there is nonetheless always room for improvement.

May we all come to recognize those areas on our own, and resolve to do better in the new year, that we not require a wake-up call such as the ‘egla ‘arufa.

Parshath Shofëtim (Deuteronomy XVI,18-XXI,9) 8/13/10

A.

שפטים ושטרים תתן לך בכל שעריך אשר ד' אלקיך נתן לך לשבטיך ושפטו את העם משפט צדק: לא תטה משפט לא תכיר פנים ולא תקח שחד כי השחד יעור עיני חכמים ויסלף דברי צדיקים: (“Judges and enforcers shall you place for yourself in all your gates which Ha-Shem your G-d is giving you for your tribes, and they will judge the people [with] a just judgment. You will not pervert judgment, you will not recognize faces, you will not take a bribe [shohad], for a bribe blinds the eyes of the wise and falsifies the words of tzaddiqim”.) So begins our parasha.


What is very striking about the above passage is the unrelenting singularity of the pronouns used in it. Even though it appears to address communal and national institutions, ones which affect the nation or city as a whole, it is nonetheless worded entirely in the second person singular. Why should that be?


The second verse is also remarkable for its warning about bribery blinding the eyes of “the wise” and falsifying the words of tzaddiqim. In what way can the Torah consider anyone who would even contemplate taking a bribe a tzaddiq?

B.

Let us consider our second question first. The Talmud (כתובות ק"ה.) begins its discussion of the matter by asking what, precisely, the Torah is concerned about in the case of shohad: מה ת"ל אם ללמד שלא לזכות את החייב ושלא לחייב את הזכאי הרי כבר נאמר "לא תטה משפט" אלא אפי' לזכות את הזכאי ולחייב את החייב אמרה תורה "ושוחד לא תקח" (“What is the teaching to say? If it is to teach not to acquit the guilty and not to convict the innocent, it is already said, ‘You shall not pervert justice’! Rather, even to acquit the innocent and convict the guilty, the Torah has said, ‘you will not take a bribe’”).


Returning to the above passage from our parasha, Rashi explains: משקבל שוחד ממנו אי אפשר שלא יטה את לבבו אצלו להפך בזכותו (“From [the moment the judge] accepted the bribe from [one of the parties] it was impossible that he would not incline his heart toward him and overturn [the judgment] in his favor”). Hence, even if the bribe itself was unnecessary, in that the case should have been decided as it was, the fact of the bribe has the effect of casting a pall on the proceedings and rendering false even דברים המצודקים משפטי אמת (“words which are justified [dëvarim ha-mëtzuddaqim], true judgments”), i.e. words which, in any event, would have issued from a judge who was a great hacham and tzaddiq.


The Talmud concludes (שם ע"ב) that the very word shohad indicates its effect, and treats it as though it is a compound word, she—hu’ had, “that he is one” with one of the parties of the lawsuit. Applying our theory of primal roots, we confirm the Talmud’s judgment, since the meaning of the basic root חו"ד refers to something sharply pointed, reduced to a single point, and the radical prefix shin can be shown to have a causative sense (on the strength of the shaf‘él conjugation); thus, shohad is soemething intended to cause or force a false narrowing or convergence of views.

C.

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein זצ"ל takes up the relentless singularity of our passage in his Darash Moshe. He notes that באוה"ח עמד בזה ונראה שבא להורות שהאדם צריך להיות שופט על עצמו לראות אם מעשיו מתוקנים וגם שוטר לעצמו לראות שיקיים מה ששפט עליו לעשות כו' (“In the Or ha-Hayyim [q.v.] he hit upon it, and it seems that a person must be a judge of himself, to see whether his deeds are correct, and also to be an enforcer on himself, to see that he carries out what he has judged for himself to do....”).

In other words, it is the individual who is able to judge and police himself at all times, even when no one else is watching. Indeed, it is only the individual who is capable of judging his true situation with perfect clarity and accuracy. Hence, the individual serious about serving the Al-Mighty must conduct a running self-audit.

Such an audit requires brutal honesty, and that is why our passage continues in the singular: Lo’ thatte mishpat, “you shall not pervert justice” and make excuses for yourself; lo’ thakkir panim, you will not look at your accomplishments in learning and count yourself a great man, incapable of error; vë-lo’ thiqqah shohad, you will not “bribe” yourself with inducements to look the other way, to give yourself the benefit of the doubt. Concerning yourself, there should be no doubt.

But that is not necessarily so with the society at large, and we find allusion to this difference in the first two paragraphs of the Shëma‘ (Deuteronomy VI, 4-9 and XI, 13-21). A careful reading of the first paragraph reveals that it, too, is couched entirely in the second person singular, whilst the second paragraph is primarily in the second person plural. Bearing this in mind, we note that there is no reference at all in the first paragraph to reward or punishment as a consequence of doing mitzvoth or not doing them; the passage simply tells us what we are to do. The second paragraph, however, is quite graphic in its depiction of what happens when the nation of Israel is obedient, and what happens when it is not.

This is because the first paragraph is addressed to the Jew as an individual. As an individual, he is, as we have seen, perfectly capable of assessing himself and knowing where he is on the continuum of righteousness. The second paragraph addresses the nation as a whole, the aggregate sum total of all those individual souls. Since it is impossible for the rabbinical leadership to know what is in the depths of each of those souls, some more or less objective criteria are provided, so that one can tell how the nation as a whole is faring.

D.

With this in mind, we turn to the end of our parasha, and the peculiar and unique sacrifice known as the ‘egla ‘arufa, the “broken-necked calf.”

A human corpse is found in open country, outside the jurisdiction of any town. No one knows anything of the circumstances of this poor person’s death. Careful measurements are taken, and the elders of the court of the town which is nearest have to perform this sacrifice. They carry it out, וענו ואמרו ידינו לא שפכה את הדם הזה ועינינו לא ראו (“And they answer and say, 'Our hands did not shed this blood, and our eyes did not see'”; XXI, 7).

The Talmud is led to exclaim: וכי על דעתנו עלתה שזקני ב"ד שופכי דמים הן אלא "ידינו לא שפכו", לא בא לידינו ופטרנוהו בלא מזונות, ולא ראינוהו והנחנוהו בלא לוי' (“And did it enter our minds that elders of the court are shedders of blood?! Rather, ‘our hands did not shed’ – he did not come to us, and we took our leave of him without [giving him] food; we did not see him, and leave him without an escort”; סוטה מ"ה: במשנה, ועיי' הגהות הב"ח ורש"י שם). (Incidentally, the sharp-eyed reader with a living sense of the Hebrew language will already have noted the anomalous spelling of the word shafëchu, “shed” in our verse, with a hé’ instead of a vav. The Ém la-Miqra’ vëla-Massoreth offers amongst the proposed explanations of this anomaly the observation that the words ל"א שפכ"ה [“did not shed”] as written in our verse are composed of the initial letters of לוי' אכילה שתי' פרנסת כל הדרך, i.e. “escort, eating, drinking, provisions for the whole journey”).

Why do they make this declaration?

The Maharal mi-Prag, commenting on the passage from the Talmud, says: כי כל אשר הניחוהו ולא השגיחו עליו כאילו אין לו חלק בכלל והרי מוציאין אותו מן הכלל בני אדם, ודבר זה נקרא שפיכת דמים כאשר היו מבטלין כחו ואתרע מזלי' (“For to the extent that they left him and did not watch over him, it is as though he has no part in the community [këlal]; they are exclud-ing him from the këlal of human beings, and this thing is called bloodshed, in that they were negating his strength, and his luck went bad....”; חידושי אגדות למהר"ל על סוטה שם, וע"ע אורה אמימה על פסוקנו סי' נ"ג שגם הוא כתב כעין זה).

The Maharal’s point relates directly to what we have been discussing. An individual, alone with himself, is caught in the pitiless glare of a stark spotlight. All of his qualities, good and bad, stand out in sharp relief. Some people, of course, may be tzaddiqim gëmurim, so perfect in their righteousness that the spotlight reveals no warts or blemishes at all. But few of us indeed are in that category.

When one is part of a këlal, a member of a community, it has the effect of mitigating his blemishes somewhat, since there are doubtless others in the community more accomplished than he in those places which need work, and those areas in which he himself shines can serve, perhaps, to help others. The accumulated merits of the community at large are counted together, and each individual may benefit from them.

When our unfortunate traveler had stayed in the town, he was automatically a part of that town. When he left, he broke that connexion. Had the people of the town noticed his presence, noticed that he was about to leave, and given him food for the journey, accompanied him part way out of the town and into the open country, he would have retained that connection, and the collective merits of the community would have stood by him in his hour of need. This is why the elders of the nearest town are obliged to testify that it was not so, and that the community had not callously, uncaringly sent him away. Rather, he had not turned to them, they had not known of him.

It is precisely for this reason that we strive to pray with a minyan, to be part of a qëhilla qëdosha, a holy congregation.

The month of Elul is now upon us, and we are in the approach to Rosh ha-Shana and a new year. We must all consider ourselves “travelers” in this world, and as such, we must reflect: In one month’s time, if each of us stays only within his little space, he will be caught and judged in the pitiless glare of his own qualities alone. However, if we join as members of a serious congregation, consisting of people who in the main are striving to be bënei Torah, consciously trying to subject themselves to Rabbi Feinstein’s self-examination, we and they will benefit from our collective merits, and we shall enjoy an inscription in the book of life for health, happiness, and all good things.

May it only be so.

Parshath Shofëtim (Deuteronomy XVI,18-XXI,9) 8/21/09

A.

כי אתה בא אל הארץ אשר ד' אלקיך נתן לך לא תלמד לעשות כתועבת הגויים ההם: לא ימצא בך מעביר בנו ובתו באש כו' כי תועבת ד' כל עשה אלה ובגלל התועבת האלה ד' אלקיך מוריש אותם מפניך: (“For you are coming to the land which Ha-Shem your G-d is giving you; you will not learn to do according to the abominations of those nations. There will not be found amongst you one who passes his son or daughter into the fire.... For an abomination of Ha-Shem is anyone who does these things, and because of these abominations Ha-Shem your G-d is disinheriting them before you”; XVIII, 9-12).

The Talmud demonstrates, on the basis of similar references in Leviticus XVIII, 21 and XX, 1-5, that the practice here prohibited is the specific worship of an idol named Molech (סנהדרין ס"ד:-ס"ה.). The fact is that there are numerous blanket prohibitions of idolatrous practices in the written Torah, and, as the Torah Tëmima on our passage points out, all of them are prohibitions בדרך עבודתם (“by way of their [regular] service”).

It is readily acknowledged that the Canaanites were enthusiastic polytheistic idolators. What is it, then, about this particular practice that it should be so singled out for condemnation such that the Torah counts it as the proximate cause for the Canaanites being driven out of the Holy Land in favor of Israel, presumably the עון האמורי, the “sin of the Emori” which had not yet been mature in the time of Avraham (cf. Genesis XV, 16)?

B.

We begin by noting a famous dispute between Rambam and Ramban concerning the reason why the Torah institutes the sacrificial service.

Rambam asserts: בעבור שהמצרים והכשדים אשר היו ישראל גרים ותושבים בארצם מעולם היו עובדים לצאן ולבקר כי המצרים עובדים מזל טלה והכשדים עובדים לשדים אשר יראו להם בדמות שעירים ואנשי הודו עד היום לא ישחטו בקר לעולם בעבור כן צוה לשחוט אלו השלשה מינין לשם הנכבד כדי שיודע שהדבר שהיו חושבים כי הם תכלית העבודה הוא אשר יקריבו לבורא ובו יתכפרו העונות וגו' (“Because the Egyptians and the Kasdim in whose lands Israel were strangers and sojourners had always been worshipping ovicaprids and cattle, for the Egyptians worshipped the constellation Aries and the Kasdim worshipped demons who appeared to them in the form of goats, and the people of India to this day do not ever slaughter cattle, for this reason He commanded to slaughter these three species for [His] honored Name, in order that it be known that the things which they had thought an object of worship is what [Israel] sacrifices to the Creator, and through it sins are atoned....”; מורה נבוכים ח"ג פמ"ו).

Ramban, commenting on Leviticus I, 5, takes sharp issue with Rambam, arguing שאינו רק להוציא מלבן של רשעים וטפשי עולם והכתוב אמר כי הם לחם אשר לריח ניחוח וכו' (“that it is not only in order to refute evildoers and the fools of the world, since Scripture has said that [the sacrifices] are bread which serves as a pleasant aroma [to Ha-Shem]....”). he goes on to draw proofs from numerous citations in support of his thesis, and goes on: ויותר ראוי לשמוע הטעם שאומרים בהם כי בעבור שמעשי בני אדם נגמרים במחשבה בדבור ובמעשה צוה השם כי כאשר יחטא ויביא קרבן יסמוך ידיו עליו כנגד המעשה ויתודה בפיו כנגד הדבור וישרוף באש הקרב והכליות שהם כלי המחשבה והתאוה והכרעים כנגד ידיו ורגליו של אדם העושים כל המלאכה ויזרוק הדם על המזבח כנגד דמו בנפשו וראוי לו שישפך דמו וישרף גופו לולא חסד הבורא שלקח ממנו תמורה וגו' עיי"ש (“And it is more fitting to hear the reason which is said about [the sacrifices; cf. Even ‘Ezra ad loc.], that since human deeds are rooted in impulse, speech, and [overt] action, Ha-Shem commanded that when one sins and brings a sacrifice, he lays his hands on it apposite the deed, and confesses with his mouth apposite the speech, and burns with fire the entrails and kidneys, which are the seat of impulse and lust, and the limbs apposite a person’s hands and feet, which do all the work, and throws the blood on the alter apposite his own life’s blood, for it would be proper that his blood be shed and his body be burnt, were it nor for the kindness of the Creator who takes from him a substitute....”).

C.

In light of Ramban’s words, let us consider an insight which I have heard in the name of the great Rabbi Yoséf Dov ha-Lévi Soloveitchik זצ"ל concerning Avraham’s sacrifice of his son Yitzchaq, the ‘aqeida. Rabbi Soloveitchik notes that from the beginning of the Torah’s account of the ‘aqeida we read that it was Eloqim who tested Avraham (Genesis XXII, 1); that Avraham set out for the place which Eloqim told him (ibid., 3); that Avraham told Yitzchaq that Eloqim would provide the ram for sacrifice (ibid., 8); and that finally Avraham and Yitzchaq arrived at the place Eloqim had said (ibid., 9). The divine name Eloqim signifies G-d’s middath ha-din. His measure of judgment (עיי' למשל בראשית פ"א א' רש"י דה"מ ברא אלקים). Avraham was acting thoughout in response to divine judgment.

Then, at the dramatic climax of the story, we read: ויקרא אליו מלאך ד' כו' ויאמר אל תשלח ידך אל הנער ואל תעש לו מאומה כי עתה ידעתי כי ירא אל'קים אתה וגו' (“And an angel of Ha-Shem called to him... And said, 'Do not send your hand to the boy and do nothing to him, for now I know perfectly that you fear Eloqim'”; ibid., 11-12).

The actual human sacrifice did not take place because of the intervention of G-d’s middath ha-rachamim, measure of mercy, designated by the shém Ha-Shem, the Tetragrammaton. It was the mal’ach Ha-Shem who revealed to Avraham the ram in place of Yitzchaq.

D.

If we now re-examine our passage in this light, we see that Avraham’s willingness to sacrifice his only son at G-d’s command, reflecting dedication to divine service on a superhuman scale, is in fact what the Canaanites were regularly performing in the service of a sham and a lie.

Imagine a society in which parents routinely hand over their children to the priests to be passed into fire. Despite Rashi’s note that the usual rite was to bring the child between two closely built bonfires, archaeological discoveries have demonstrated all too well that often enough the child was actually burnt up. Consider the grasp such a cult must have on its devotees. It is against this that G-d so stringently warns Israel, who have such an extra measure of devotion and dedication in their spiritual DNA, as it were, from Avraham Avinu.

We, in fact, are afforded in the modern age a glimpse of what such a society is like. The Muslims worship Allah (origin in a borrowing from the shém Elo-him, appears obvious from their mutual consonantal root alef-lamed-hé). In other words, hey worship the middath ha-din exclusively; indeed, the very word for religion in Arabic is din. And it is amongst them that the incredibly evil and sick cult of the suicide bomber has arisen.

Israel are warned to avoid such a horribly negative dead-end, and are reminded in our passage that the Holy Land is הארץ אשר ד' אלקיך נתן לך, “the land which Ha-Shem your Eloqim is giving you.” Judgment, as Ramban tells us, tempered by divine rachamim and chesed.

Parshath Shoftim (Deuteronomy XVI,18-XXI,9) 8/17/07

A.

כי אתה בא אל הארץ אשר ד' אלקיך נתן לך לא תלמד לעשות כתועבת הגוים ההם: לא ימצא בך מעביר בנו ובתו באש כו' כי תועבת ד' כל עשה אלה וגו' (“For you are coming to the land which Ha-Shem your G-d is giving to you; you will not learn to act according to the abomination of those nations. There will not be found amongst you one who passes his son and his daughter through the fire.... For an abomination of Ha-Shem is anyone who does these things....” XVIII, 9-11).

Last week, we touched upon an insight based on a thought of the Maharal mi-Prag, that âvoda zara, “idolatry," is based upon an over-reliance on human perceptions. Human beings, being unable to grasp completely the perfectly unique unity of Ha-Shem, tend to divide His functions up. The phrase I used was that they turn Divinty into “divinities." In particular, we do not see that din (“judgment”) and rachamim (“mercy”) emanate from the same place. Coupled with a very well-placed fear of the former, then, people who feel left on their own in this regard tend to try to propitiate or deflect what they see as the malevolent forces of din, which rites are the primary forms of âvoda zara (עיי' למשל גור ארי' לדברים ט"ז א').

The Canaanite cult of Molech, to which our passage refers (cf. also Leviticus XX,1-5) is the most extreme expression of this fallacy, so starkly different from the usual idolatrous rites that it had an immensely strong grip on the imaginations of its devoteés, such that it merits its own, separate prohibition.

Which leads us to an interesting difference of opinion between the Rambam and the Ramban, concerning the nature of and reason for sacrifice in the Torah.

B.

Concerning the rationale behind the qorbanoth, the Rambam writes: בעבור שהמצרים והכשדים אשר היו ישראל גרים ותושבים בארצם, מעולם היו עובדים לצאן ולבקר, כי המצרים עובדין מזל טלה והכשדים עובדים לשדים אשר יראו להם בדמות שעירים, ואנשי הודו עד היום לא ישחטו בקר לעולם, בעבור כן צוה לשחוט אלו השלשה מינין לשם הנכבד כדי שידע כי הדבר שהיו חושבים כי הם בתכלית העבודה הוא אשר יקריבו לבורא ובו יתכפרו העונות כי כן יתרפאו האמונות הרעות שהם מדויי הנפש כי כל מדוי וכל חולי לא יתרפאו כי אם בהפכן (“Since the Egyptians and the Chaldaeans in whose lands Israel had been sojourners and residents worshipped ovicaprids and cattle, for the Egyptians worshipped the constellation Aries [the Ram] and the Chaldaeans worshipped demons who would appear to them in the form of goats, and the people of India to this day do not slaughter cattle at all; for this reason, [G-d] commanded that these three species be slaughtered for [His] revered Name, in order that one should know that the thing which they were thinking was the object of worship was what they should sacrifice to the Creator, and through it sins would be atoned and in this way bad beliefs which are an illness of the soul would be cured, for illnesses and diseases are only cured by their being reversed;" מורה נבוכים ח"ג פמ"ו).
In other words, the Rambam sees the entire system of sacrifice instituted by the Torah as a sort of concession to human frailty: Because people are inclined to debase themselves by prostrating themselves to animals, so G-d decreed that these very animals be sacrificed to Him, to serve as a pointed reminder that He had created them, and that therefore He was to be venerated, not they.

The Ramban protests most strenuously that the Rambam’s words are דברי הבאי, ירפאו שבר גדול וקושיא רבה על נקלה יעשה שולחן ד' מגואל, שאיננו רק להוציא מלבן של רשעים וטפשי עולם, והכתוב אמר שהוא "לחם אשה לריח ניחוח"?! (“vain words: can a huge gulf and great difficulty be healed so easily? Should Ha-Shem’s table be made contaminated, since it exists only to contradict the evil and stupid of the world, when Scripture says that it is [G-d’s] ‘bread, a burnt offering for a savoury aroma’?!”).
The Ramban goes on at some length to recount the numerous Biblical examples of sacrificial devotion by, e.g. Noach, or Qayin and Hevel, which predated the very concept of âvoda zara, not to speak of the Egyptian nation, and decides that the purpose of a qorban is inherent in the root meaning of the word, to bring about qirva (“closeness”) bretween man and G-d. He then recounts the various steps necessary in offering a qorban, and notes that it is important שיחשוב אדם בעשותו כל אלה כי חטא לאלקיו בגופו ובנפשו וראוי לו שישפך דמו וישרף גופו לולא חסד הבורא שלקח ממנו תמורה (“that a person think whilst he is doing all these things that he has sinned against his G-d with his body and his soul, and it would be proper for his blood to be spilt and his body to be burnt, were it not for the kindness [chesed] of the Creator, Who takes a substitute for him....”; ע"ע שכתב שם בארןבות בזה).

From the Ramban’s word we thus gain an insight into the integration and interplay of din and rachamim in the way the Creator runs His world. Mi-tzad ha-din, the situation of an adam mi-Yisra’él is very simple and clear: G-d has graciously given him the Torah; he therefore should know what his duties and responsibilities are; if he fails to carry any of them out, the boom should be lowered on him. However, G-d exercises rachamim, accepting his sincere contrition and the effort and expense of bringing a qorban in lieu of what he really deserves to pay.

C.

There is a fascinating suggestion which I have heard in the name of Rabbi Yosef Dov ha-Levi Soloveitchik זצ"ל which affords us a glimpse of this Divine logic working itself out.

Rabbi Soloveitchik calls attention to the Biblical account of the âqeidath Yitzchaq, when Avraham was commanded to sacrifice his only son and heir (Genesis XXII), and takes note of the fact that, throughout the account, the Divine name Eloqim appears exclusively. The name Eloqim is indicative of the middath ha-din, our perception of the quality of Divine judgment in this world. He sees in this a clear indication that the sacrifice of Yitzchaq was perfectly justified, in complinace with Divine judgment.

Until we reach the climax of the account: וישלח אברחם את ידו ויקח את המאכלת לשחט את בנו: ויקרא אליו מלאך ד' מן השמים וכו' ויאמר אל תשלח ידך אל הנער ואל תעשה לו מאומה: כי עתה ידעתי כי ירא אלקים אתה וגו' (“And Avraham reached out his hand and took the knife to slaughter his son. And an angel of Ha-Shem called out thim from the heavens... Do not take your hand to the youth, and do nothing to him. For now I know that you are G-d [Eloqim] fearing....;" ibid., 10-12).

וישא אברהם עיניו וירא והנה איל וגו' (“And Avraham raised his eyes and saw, and behold, there was a ram....”; v. 13). Plainly the substitution of the ram for Yitzchaq was an act of Divine rachamim, heralded by the sudden appearance of the name Ha-Shem. Avraham himself recognised this implicitly: ויקרא אברהם את שם המקום ההוא ד' יראה וגו' (“And Avraham callefd the name of that place 'Ha-Shem is perceived....;'" v. 14).

Now return to our passage and take careful note of the wording: Moshe warns that Israel were heading toward the holy land אשר נתן לך ד' אלקיך, “which Ha-Shem Eloqecha is giving you." The Ramban makes clear that one’s son or daughter might very well deserve a fiery fate, as, indeed, the Canaanites seem to have been convinced; the strict prohibition of anything resembling this ritual to Israel, it would seem, comes about about because of the inseparable oneness of rachamim -- Ha-Shem -- and din -- "Eloqecha." Because of that, the verse seems to tell us, תועבת ד' כל עשה אלה, “an abomination of Ha-Shem is anyone who does these things," for to do them is to deny the fundamental, ineffable unity of Ha-Shem Eloqeinu.

D.

The import of the fact of the fundamental, Divine unity and inseparability of din and rachamim for each and every one of us as we enter into this highly propitious season of Elul, in preparation to meet the awesome yom ha-din a scant five weeks hence, is clear. Our relief, though, is tempered by more than a little apprehension: After all, due to our many sins, we do not today have a Béyth ha-Miqdash, and so we have no chance to take advantage of G-d’s magnanimity. The prospect of spilling blood and burning bodies, it seems, looms before us....

The mishna assures us: כל העושה מצוה אחת קונה לו פרקליט אחד (“Anyone who does a single mitzva acquires for himself a single advocate;" אבות פ"ד מי"א), and Rabbi Ovadya of Bartenura explains an “advocate” to be a מלאך מליץ טוב, an “angel recommending good."

If we turn to the Talmud, we find: חשב אדם לעשות מצוה ונאנס ולא עשאה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאלו עשאה ([“If] a person thinks of doing a mitzva and is prevented by circumstances and does not do it, Scripture considers it for him as though he has done it;" ברכות ו.).

In the story of the âqeida, it seems to me, we have a clear, Biblical demonstration of the application of this principle. Consider what the mal’ach Ha-Shem said to Avraham: עתה ידעתי כי ירא רלקים אתה לא חשכת את בנך “Now I know that you are G-d fearing; you did not spare your son....”). And how was it that G-d knew this?

Continues the mal’ach: ממני (“from me”).

Avraham had not, after all, actually slaughtered Yitzchaq; but at the very moment that his hand grasped the knife, his every intention was to carry out the inscrutable Divine command, and at that instant “Scripture considered it as though he had done it," and this very מלאך מליץ טוב, this advocate, came into being. It was the sudden appearance of the mal’ach as Avraham, in effect, performed the mitzva, which consitituted the evidence of his G-d fearing character, as well as of Divine rachamim overriding din: It was, after all, a mal’ach Ha-Shem, not a mal’ach Eloqim.

Thus, we have Biblical assurance, as well as that of the Oral Torah, that if our contrition and confession are sincere enough, our yearning to perform the requisite sacrifices intense enough, it will be considered “as though we had done it," and entered in our favour in the Divine ledger on the yom ha-din.

Surely in testimony whereof, Chazal established the âqeida as the Torah reading on Yom Kippur.

The Creator’s chesed stands available to us; it is up to us to avail ourselves of it.