JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Beshalach

PARSHAT BESHALACH – OBLIGATIONS, BIG AND SMALL

Shortly after the Jews left Egypt, they were attacked by the nation of Amalek. To protect the Jews, Moshe (Moses) instructed his student Yehoshua (Joshua) saying, “Choose for us men and go out and fight with Amalek.” (Beshalach, 17:9) The rabbis saw special meaning the words “for us.” Moshe was equating himself to Yehoshua. In truth, Moshe was the teacher, while Yehoshua was his student.

Rashi explains that this is the source for the Mishna in Tractate Avot, 4:12 which writes that the honor due a student should equal what is due one’s self (or a friend, as some explain); the honor of a friend should equal that of a teacher; and the honor for a teacher should be similar to what is due the Almighty.

Several classical commentaries on this Mishnah raise the same basic question:

The Mishnah appears to be saying that the same amount of honor is due in each of the four instances, student, friend, teacher, and The Almighty. If so, that would mean that one should accord the same measure of deference to a student as to G-d. How could this be?

The Commentary of Rabbenu Yonah (as further explained by the Commentary of Midrash Shmuel) offers the following answer:

The Mishnah does not mean that the same level of deference should be conferred in all four of the categories. What it rather means is that the overarching responsibility to give each their due is the same. If, on a scale of 1-10, G-d receives 10 points of honor, a Rebbe 7, a friend 5, and a student 3, it is as important to bestow the 3 points of honor upon the student as it is to honor The Almighty with 10. All of these obligations emanate from the same source –the Torah’s ethical code. Accordingly, they must all be undertaken with equal seriousness and zeal.

The extent of one’s obligation to honor and praise G-d is hard to quantify. The prayer of Nishmat, recited on every Shabbat or Yom Tov morning contains the following:

“Were our mouths as full of song as the sea, and our tongues as full of joyous song as the roar of its waves, and our lips as full of praise as the breadth of the heavens, and our eyes as brilliant as the sun and the moon, and our hands as outspread as eagles of the sky, and our feet as swift as hinds - we still could not adequately thank You HaShem our G-d and G-d of our forefathers and to bless Your Name for even one of the thousand thousand thousands of thousands and myriads of instances of favors that you performed for our ancestors and for us.”

Amazingly, the Rabbenu Yonah is interpreting the Mishnah to mean that one’s motivation and duty to give a student his due honor should be no less than the drive to honor G-d. Both are obligations of G-d’s Torah. It is only the parameters of those obligations that are different.

This imperative directly governs the respect due a student. But it applies as well to the esteem due all other people, to whatever extent it is mandatory. All of the Torah’s ethical guidelines on interpersonal relationships must be approached with the same seriousness that one approaches the honor of G-d.

For example, someone who attends a prestigious yeshiva headed by a prestigious rabbi might recognize the imperative to honor the rabbi. But there is also a duty to honor the one who answers the phone in the office…and even the person who sweeps the floor. The level of respect due these other people is surely less than what is appropriate for the rabbi. But the duty to give each their due is equally incumbent.

To specify further: The Ramban (Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, 1194–c. 1270) writes in his famous ethical letter, "Be constantly careful to speak all of your words to all people with gentleness/sweetness." The Talmud (Shabbos 31a) writes: “That which is hateful to you, do not do unto others.”

Observing these two injunctions to the extent that they are mandated is as compulsory as fearing Heaven. (And as an enormously significant aside, observing these precepts more conscientiously will greatly refine one’s character.)

Respect is not just due to one’s student. Even children must be respected. The following vignette was related about Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetsky. (For some biographical information on Rabbi Kamenetsky, see the end of the article at http://www.jhicambridge.com/mail/mail.cgi/archive/parsha/20100107191850/)

A young father was consulting with Rabbi K about parenting. Somehow, the discussion turned to bath time. The father explained that he tries to make it a pleasant experience, so he fills the bathtub and allows his son to first play in the tub with toys, and only afterward he washes him. Rabbi K then asked the man how he transitions from playtime to washing time. The man answered that he simply takes away the toys and then washes his son.

Rabbi K asked the man about what recreation he most enjoys. The man replied that he loves handyman work and that he has a tool shop in his house where he often busies himself fixing and building things. Rabbi K then asked how he would feel if a much bigger and stronger man would suddenly intrude upon him in his shop and seize and then walk off with all of his favorite tools. The man replied that he would be devastated.

Rabbi K went on to say that this exactly is was what he was doing to his son every time he summarily takes the toys away before washing him. Rather, Rabbi K said, he should first gently explain that it will soon be time to be washed during which time he cannot also be playing - but that he would be able to play with the toys during his next bath. This would show respect to the child and the little world of the bathtub and the toys that he inhabits.

Rabbi K was saying that even a small child must be respected. The Rabbnu Yonah of this dvar teaches that the responsibility to bestow this small measure of respect is as obligatory as the responsibility to bestow infinitely more honor upon The Almighty.

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Bo

PARSHAT BO – THE PAIN OF MOCKERY


Although the Jews were in Egypt for 210 years, the period of their intense suffering lasted for ‘only’ 80 years. That suffering ended when the Ten Plagues began. Just before leaving Egypt, the Jews sacrificed the Korban Pesach (Paschal Lamb). That was on the 14th day of the Hebrew month of Nissan; on the 15th, they left Egypt. Since then, Jews celebrate the first day of Pesach (Passover) on the 15th of Nissan.

Parshat Bo (12, 21) relates that Moshe (Moses) instructed the Jews in Egypt to set aside the lamb for the Korban Pesach four days before it was due to be sacrificed.

The Midrash Rabah (16:4) explains the background behind this commandment:
One of the torments the Jews endured for 80 years is that the Egyptians would bring them to a desert and command them to capture animals and prepare them for eating. The Egyptians would then feast, while the Jews were made to watch but were not allowed to partake.

In his commentary on the Midrash, the Yefe Toar (unabridged edition) explains that the slaughtering of the lambs alone was enough to humble and delegitimize the Egyptian god. (The Egyptians worshipped sheep.) However, the four days of inability to protest served a different purpose. It punished the Egyptians, midah kineged midah (measure for measure) for their merciless torture of the Jews - withholding food while they themselves were eating. Just as the Jews suffered from being forced to watch as their masters ate, so too, the Egyptians were made to suffer by looking on helplessly as their former slaves first set aside, then killed and then devoured the lambs. The Egyptians, who had ruled all of the known world, looked on, powerless to thwart what was being done to their deity. This was considered a great miracle.

What the Egyptians did must have made the Jews suffer terribly. No doubt, their tortured bodies cried out for the adequate and tasty sustenance they had just prepared that was being cruelly withheld. For 80 years of this sadistic behavior, the Egyptians were being punished. How? By being made to watch powerlessly for four days while the lambs they worshipped were set aside for sacrifice, and then slaughtered and eaten.

One might ask, is this a repayment for that? Can it be said that justice was done? Seemingly, the Egyptian suffering during those four days was not even remotely the equal of what they inflicted upon the Jews for 80 years.

Evidently, showing the foolishness of a person’s deeply held belief and then mocking it is a devastating blow to the human spirit. Although it is not a physical suffering, in a sense, it is comparable, if not worse. Physical afflictions pain the body, at times terribly, but they leave a person’s inner sense of worthiness intact. However, mockingly exposing the folly of another person’s beliefs totally invalidates his or her very being. And that causes far greater suffering. It can therefore be said that on some level, the Egyptians were indeed being repaid in kind for what they had done to the Jews.

This demonstrates that mocking with the beliefs of others good reason inflicts terrible human suffering.

People are sometimes saddled with the responsibility to influence others to abandon foolish values and beliefs and to instead gravitate to something more worthwhile. In particular, teachers, parents and synagogue rabbis are often faced with this struggle.

Advice is often appropriate – especially when offered appropriately. There are also times when outright reproof is called for. However, this text indicates that sarcasm and mockery is almost never a good idea. This text equates it to physical abuse. Both accomplish little, and both can inflict long-term harm.

A more subtle and prevalent form of mockery occurs when people make remarks that are mildly sarcastic and biting. Very often, those making these remarks consider them humorous and good natured – offensive only to the excessively sensitive. Yet, the butt of the “good natured humor” frequently considers it more cruel than funny – especially when it contains a grain of truth.

One thing is certain: An overarching principle derived from this Midrash in Parshat Bo is that personal mockery is profoundly hurtful - altogether more so than one might have imagined.

Shabbat Shalom!

JHI DVAR TORAH ON PARSHAT VAERAH

PARSHAT VAERAH - SACRED MOTIVES


Parshat Vaerah describes Moshe (Moses) and Aharon (Aaron) appearing before Pharaoh to secure the release of the Jews from slavery.

Moshe performed a miracle; he cast down his staff and it miraculously turned into a serpent. The Egyptians, however, were unmoved. Egypt was noted for its witchcraft, and the Torah relates that the sorcerers of Pharaoh performed a similar feat (Vaerah 7:10,11). The Midrash adds that Pharaoh even produced children of four and five years old who could also do the same.

The Midrsah then relates the following dialogue. Yochani and Mamreh, the two greatest sorcerers in Egypt, said to Moshe, “Straw you are bringing to Efrayim?” (Efrayim was a city that was made of straw.) Moshe answered them, “To a city of vegetables, bring vegetables!” (Midrash Rabbah, 9:7)

The Commentary of Matnat Kehunah on the Midrash explains this exchange. Moshe was attempting to impress the “magic-savvy” Egyptians with some supernatural deeds of his own. Yochani and Mamreh assumed that the worst place to sell an item is where it is found in abundance. They therefore likened Moshe to someone bringing straw for sale to a city that was made of straw. (One can only wonder if this is the origin of the phrase, “Bringing coal to Newcastle.”) Moshe responded that to the contrary, the very opposite is true. A city of straw would be the best place for that seller to go. That is because all buyers know of the abundance in that city, so that is where they will go for their straw.

This explanation of the Matnat Kehunah needs further explanation itself.
Moshe and the Egyptians were certainly not “selling the same merchandise.” Egyptian magic was a function of profane idolatry, while Moshe’s demonstration represented the holiness of The Almighty and His Torah. These are two opposite ends of the moral/religious spectrum. Those who gravitate to one ideology would seemingly be especially unreceptive to the other.

Why then did Moshe believe that the idolatrous and magic-loving Egyptians would be especially interested in G-d’s message?

In truth, every religion, however deviant, claims to embody some form of exalted spirituality. Some religions are more legitimate, while others are almost completely bogus. Yet, all profess to drawing their adherents closer to G-d. Yochani and Mamreh were thus likely alleging (albeit falsely) that their magic somehow paved the way to holiness.

Moshe therefore recognized that a sincere striving to ennoble the soul is what motivated many of the Egyptian “buyers” of magic to gravitate to their misguided religion. They were earnestly seeking genuine spirituality. This sincere quest drew them to what was being promised by Yochani and Mamreh, albeit fraudulently.

This is why Moshe responded to Yochani and Mamreh, “To a city of vegetables, bring vegetables.” Moshe was saying that Egypt was the ideal venue for the sanctity that he was promoting. It was indeed true that the ‘magic-seeking’ Egyptian public was actively involved in sinful idolatry. Yet, Moshe felt that their sincere quest for authentic piety could be easily redirected to the genuine holiness that he was promoting.

This suggests a very interesting idea. A person might be moved toward greater spirituality and nobility of purpose by the pure and holy longing of the neshama (soul). Yet, that yearning for the sublime might cause one to mistakenly embrace a very unholy and even obscene ideology. The Egyptians were driven by the pursuit of G-dliness. So, they therefore embraced idolatry. Moshe, though, was able to discern the nobility of their underlying motive, and he therefore felt that it could be redirected to genuine holiness.

The point, however, should be made that this phenomenon does not apply to all deviant forms of religion. For example, religious cults that promote libidinous excesses or radical Islam that advocates murder of innocents are not in any way akin to Torah. Hence, a lust for their practices will never morph into a quest for true holiness. The magic of the Egyptians, on the other hand, appears to have had an aspect of spirituality, that was neither hedonistic or murderous. This type of religious fervor and observance can possibly be redirected to Torah Judaism (lehavdil).

This concept should lend encouragement to those interested in kiruv (Jewish outreach). It makes the point that Jews who avidly support ideas and causes that run contrary to Torah are often excellent candidates for kiruv. In fact, when the fervent but misguided pursuits of such people are redirected to Torah, they have the capacity to become a far more conscientious Jew than many others who were always observant.

The idea that the drive for holiness can be misdirected into other pursuits can be seen elsewhere as well. For example, the late head of Yeshiva Chofetz Chaim in Queens, NY, Rabbi Henoch Liebowitz often said that the quest for holiness is a part of our tradition that is embedded in every Jew. When Jews are not observant, though, this unfulfilled drive often expresses itself in the advocacy of secular causes. This, he said, is why Jews have tended to be heavily involved in almost any movement that promises to benefit mankind. Some past examples are Communism, trade unionism, the NAACP, and the 1960’s anti-war movement. In all of these cases, many of those behind the early growth of the movements (when they were largely free of the corruption that would later beset them) were highly idealistic, but non-observant Jews.

Moshe’s message to the Egyptians was about the most perfect way to realize their yearning for greater spirituality and meaning in life. This could occur if they were to embrace the principles he represented – those of G-d and His Torah. Like all of the rest of the Torah, this message is as true today as it was 3,300 years ago when Moshe spoke to the Egyptians.

JHI Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayechi

PARSHAT VAYECHI - CONCEPTS OF GRATITUDE

Parshat Vayechi recounts that when the Forefather Yaakov’s (Jacob’s) death drew closer, he summoned his son Yosef (Joseph) who was then the second most powerful ruler in Egypt after Pharaoh. Yaakov desired to be buried in Israel with his parents and grandparents, and he asked Yosef to make certain that it would occur. Yosef gave his assurances and then swore to fulfill his father’s wish.

At that point it is written that, “Yisroel (Yaakov) prostrated himself toward the head of the bead” (Vayechi, 47:31).

There are several different classical interpretations of who it was that Yaakov bowed to and why he did so. One approach offered in the Commentary of the Ralbag is that Yaakov bowed down to his son Yosef out of gratitude for what Yosef promised to do. The Ralbag continues that all people should learn from this text to respond in a similar manner when a favor is received.

At first glance, it might appear that this was a simple exercise in saying “thank you” - Yaakov was thanking Yosef. A deeper look at the text, though, uncovers two new Torah principles of gratitude.

Gratitude is normally understood, very simply, as the obligation to repay a favor. But if that is all that it connotes, why did Yaakov act as he did? For one, Yosef’s favor had yet actually occurred – it was only discussed. Furthermore, Yaakov did not actually repay anything; all he did was to bow down.

These questions point to the fact that Torah’s duty to act with gratitude encompasses heretofore unknown dimensions of this ethic:

For one, once it becomes apparent that a person intends to do a favor, that obligation begins. People are responsible to repay acts of kindness - even ones that have not yet been done. For that reason, once Yosef agreed to bury Yaakov as requested, Yaakov immediately acknowledged the kindness.

Another new idea inherent in the Ralbag is that respect is a component of gratitude. Because Yosef offered to help him, Yaakov bowed down to Yosef. Apparently, aside from the obvious responsibility to repay favors in kind, there is a new and special duty to respect the provider of a favor.

This second idea, the duty to proffer respect in exchange for a kindness received, is especially highlighted by the events described in Vayechi. Yaakov was Yosef’s Rebbe, his primary teacher of Torah (Rashi, Vayeshev, 37:3). About Yosef’s (or anyone else’s) obligation to revere a rebbe it is written, “The awe or your rebbe should be like the awe of Heaven” (Avot 4:15) Yaakov was also Yosef’s father, and the duty to honor a parent is one of the Aseret Hadibrot (Ten Commandments). Yosef’s attitude toward Yaakov was thus governed by both of these extreme imperatives of reverence. Yet, because of the obligation to be grateful, Yaakov, the rebbe and the father, bowed down to Yosef, the student and the son.

Anyone who lives among people receives constant favors, especially from family and friends. And being close family does not mean that there is no obligation to repay the countless favors received – Yaakov and Yosef were close family.

Without question, all of one’s relationships would be improved by the overarching ethic that each favor received must be repaid. Viewing a spouse or a parent as someone to whom thousands of favors must repaid would establish a grateful and loving tone that would preclude a great deal of discord.

The words of the Ralbag raise the ethic to an even higher plateau. The notion that “each favor received must be repaid” even includes favors that were not yet done. Additionally, another component of that repayment is the obligation to be extremely respectful.