Sunday, April 27, 2014

EMOR – INSIGHTS IN RASHI – THE JOY OF MITZVOS

Vayikra, 21:1: HaShem said to Moses: Say to the Kohanim, the sons of Aaron, and say to them: Each of them shall not contaminate himself to a [dead] person among his people.” Rashi, Vayikra, 21:1: sv. Say to the Kohanim: “’Say’ (emor) and ‘say’ (amarta), [the repetition is] to warn the adults with regards to the children.” HaShem twice uses the expression of ‘saying’ when instructing Moshe Rabbeinu to teach the laws of purity of the Kohanim. Rashi, based on the Gemara, explains that the repetition is coming to teach us that the Kohanim must also teach their sons to observe these laws. This teaches us a principle in chinuch that applies to all of Torah; that a parent must ensure that his children observe the Mitzvos. Rav Baruch Sorotskin zt”l asks in the name of his father, Rav Zalman Sorotskin zt”l, since this lesson applies equally to all other Mitzvos, why, then, was it taught davke in the context of the Mitzvos of the Kohanim? He explains that there is a significant factor that makes it more difficult to educate young Kohanim in their Mitzvos; with regard to other Mitzvos, all Jews are equally required to observe the Torah and therefore there is less chance that a Jewish child will be influenced to do something forbidden by his fellow children. Only the non-Jews do not observe the laws of the Torah and there was little risk that a child would think their actions are acceptable for a Jew who follows the Torah. However, the laws of the Kohanim are unique in that most Jews do not have to observe them. Therefore, there is the added risk that a young Kohen will not realize the severity of the Mitzvos that only pertain to Kohanim. Accordingly, the Torah chooses these Mitzvos in particular to stress the significance of educating one’s children in the Mitzvos. The challenge that in those times was greater with regards to Kohanim, now seems to apply to all Jews. This is because, sadly, there are many Jews who do not observe the Mitzvos. Moreover, even within the groups who do strive to observe the Mitzvos, there are many different levels of sensitivity with regard to areas such as use of modern technology and involvement in the secular world. How, then, does a person strive to bring up his children to adhere to the level of values that he aspires to and not be adversely influenced by others? An answer to this question can perhaps be found in the words of Rav Moshe Feinstein zt”l in his commentary on this verse in Emor. He explains, based on Rashi, that the two lashonos (expressions) of ‘saying’ come to teach us that there are two aspects in educating our children about Mitzvos. The first is simply to teach them about their obligations and the accompanying challenges that they will need to overcome. However, this alone is insufficient; for if a child only hears this then he may feel that he is not strong enough to overcome the numerous challenges that he will inevitably face. Accordingly, the second ‘saying’ comes to add that the father must communicate the joy of keeping Mitzvos to his children. In this way the child will receive the message that Torah observance is not simply a difficult challenge that must be overcome, rather it is the source of our well-being in this world as well as the next. In this vein, Rav Feinstein mentioned a phrase that was common amongst Jews of previous generations: “it is difficult to be a Jew”. He says that children that heard this message from their parents were being implicitly taught that Torah observance is a yoke that one must bear, despite all the challenges and difficulties it involves. As a result, many of these children grew up to see Torah as a burden and rejected it in their desire to achieve a ‘better’ life. In this vein, the following story was told; in the early part of the twentieth century many Jews who moved to America faced the tremendous challenge (nisayon) of not working on Shabbos. Most employers insisted that their employees work on Shabbos and if they refused they would be instantly fired. Many Jews succumbed to this nisayon and worked on Shabbos. Yet there were a minority who remained steadfast in their Shabbos observance despite the great challenges that this posed. There were two such men who did this, yet their children developed very differently. One of them merited to have children who devotedly followed in his footsteps to be G-d fearing Jews. But the children of the other man did not grow up in the same way and rejected Torah observance. This second man once approached Rav Aaron Kotler zt”l and asked him why his children had not followed in his footsteps whilst those of his friend did. He answered that whilst both men refused to work on Shabbos they expressed very different attitudes to their children. This man would return home on Friday after he was fired and come to the Shabbos table despondent, saying how difficult it was to keep the Torah in America. He constantly bemoaned his financial situation and worried about how he would find another job. His children would hear this and see how difficult Shabbos observance was; Shabbos, and by extension, all Torah, in their minds, became a difficult, unpleasant burden that only brought pain and sorrow every week. Unsurprisingly, as soon as they grew up, they were unwilling to undergo such ‘suffering’ and dropped Shabbos and the other Mitzvos. In contrast, his friend came home with an entirely different attitude. He came to the Shabbos table with great joy and enthusiasm, happy to have remained steadfast in his Shabbos observance. He saw it as a privilege to have stood up for the honor of Shabbos and was confident that HaShem would enable him to provide for his family. Thus his children grew up seeing Torah observance as the key to a rewarding and meaningful life. This essential lesson from Rav Feinstein and Rav Kotler provides us with the key to answer our original question. Our children will inevitably see others of different levels of Torah observance and standards, however if they are taught that observing the Torah is a joyous opportunity then they are far more likely to not be tempted by seemingly ‘easier’ or more ‘pleasurable’ lifestyles. One example of this is how parents approach Jewish holidays that require considerable work and preparation, such as Pesach. If the atmosphere in the home is one of tenseness at the burden of having to clean the house then the children will likely grow up with the attitude that Pesach is a burden. But if the hard work is approached in a positive way then they will see Pesach as a time of great happiness. One final vital point is that it is very difficult, if not impossible, to communicate the joy of Torah observance to one’s children, if the parent does not feel that joy himself. Children are influenced far more by how we live, then what we say. Thus, as well as a key message in chinuch, this is an essential lesson in our own lives; that Torah is the only way to achieve true meaning and life satisfaction. If we inculcate that into our own lives then our children will surely emulate us.

EMOR - UNDERSTANDING THE OMER

The Parsha outlines the Mitzvos involved with the Omer offering. On the second day of Pesach we are commanded to bring an offering of barley in the Beis HaMikdash and the Torah further instructs us to count forty nine days from the offering until the day before Shavuos. Rav Yosef Salant zt"l in his sefer, 'Be'er Yosef' asks a number of questions about the Omer . Amongst them he notes that the Omer offering was the same volume as the other Mincha offerings - a tenth of an eiphah . Yet this is the only offering in which the volume is described by the name 'Omer' as opposed to simply saying, 'a tenth of an eiphah'. What is the significance of this change in name? Secondly, he brings the Sefer HaChinuch who writes that purpose of Sefiras HaOmer (counting the Omer) is to count towards the day of the Giving of the Torah (Matan Torah), Shavuos. We count to demonstrate our excitement about reaching this holy day . Rav Salant points out that from the Sefer HaChinuch's explanation it is difficult to see any specific connection between the Omer and Matan Torah, rather it simply seems that there were 49 days between the two events and so we count from one towards the other. Is there a connection between the seemingly separate occasions of the Omer offering and Shavous? He answers the first question by noting that the other time the word 'Omer' is used in the Torah is with regard to the Manna that the Jews received in the desert. In Parshas Beshalach the Torah states that Hashem commanded the people to gather from the Manna, "an Omer per person. " The Medrash also connects the Omer offering with the Manna. It tells us that the Omer offering was some kind of acknowledgement from the Jewish people to Hashem of the Manna that they received in the desert. Rav Salant explains that during their time in the desert the people did not have to exert any effort in order to attain their sustenance. The Manna came directly from heaven without any input from the people. Further, no matter how much Manna a person tried to gather, he would never be able to take more than he was allotted, rather he would receive exactly what he needed. Because their sustenance was provided for, the people were free to involve themselves in learning Torah and Avodas Hashem. However, when they entered Eretz Yisroel, the Manna from heaven stopped and they were required to acquire their livelihood (parnassa) through physical effort. With this change came a new danger: When a person sees his toiling bear fruit, there is the risk that his reliance on Hashem will weaken and he will come to attribute his success to his own hard work. In order to prevent this from happening, the Torah gave us the Omer offering; we offer the first produce of the season to Hashem, acknowledging that only He is the Source of our sustenance and not our own hishtadlus. By connecting the Omer to the Manna through the same term of volume, the Torah stresses that in truth there was no difference in how we attained our food in the desert and in Eretz Yisroel. In the same way that Hashem provided us with food in the desert, He was the source of our sustenance once that miraculous period ended. The only difference is that now we no longer merited to experience open miracles and therefore we had to exert a measure of physical effort in order to attain our parnassa. The 'Be'er Yosef' adds a beautiful proof of the connection between the Manna and the Omer. He brings the Gemara in Kiddushin that says that the Manna stopped falling when Moshe Rabbeinu died, but the people continued to eat what was remaining until they entered the land on the 16th of Nissan . We also bring the Omer offering on that very date! Thus, every year, we begin counting the Omer on the day that the Manna stopped to further teach ourselves that the sustenance represented by the Omer is a continuation of the sustenance epitomized by the Manna. He then goes on to explain the connection between the Omer and Shavous. Thus far we have see how the Omer teaches us that our livelihood comes from Hashem. However, such an awareness is not sufficient; we must also realize that earning a parnassa is not an end in itself, rather it is a means to a greater end - to enable us to have enough menuchas hanefesh so that we can focus on Avodas Hashem and learning Torah without being overburdened by concerns about our livelihood. In this vein, the Torah connects the counting of the Omer to Shavuos to teach us that the purpose of the sustenance that is symbolized by the Omer is to take us to Matan Torah, to enable us to learn and observe the Torah effectively. Thus, for forty nine days we count the Omer, thereby infusing ourselves with the realization that Hashem is the only Source of our livelihood and moreover, that His purpose in doing so is to enable us to get close to Him through learning and keeping his Torah. The lessons of the Manna have had great relevance throughout Jewish history. In the time of the Prophet Yeremyahu, the people had made working a greater priority than learning Torah. Yeremyahu exhorted them to make learning Torah their main focus. They replied by claiming that they needed to work in order to survive . Yeremyahu responded by bringing out a container of Manna that was stored in the Beis HaMikdash . He showed them that Hashem has many ways of providing man with his parnassa and that he should realize the futility of focusing on one's physical sustenance to the exclusion of his spiritual well-being. We no longer have the container of Manna to arouse us, however we still have the Mitzvo of counting the Omer - it stands as a constant reminder that there is no benefit in working beyond the boundaries of acceptable hishtadlus (physical effort) because ultimately Hashem is the sole provider of our parnassa. Moreover, it teaches us to remember that the purpose of having our physical needs is so that we can focus on the main Avoda of growing closer to Hashem . These lessons are applied differently to each individual, there is no 'right' amount of time one should spend working, learning, and being involved in other spiritual pursuits. However, during this period of Sefiras HaOmer it is worthwhile for each person to make his own cheshbon hanefesh of the balance of his involvement in gashmius and ruchnius. Does he work more than is really necessary? In his spare time, does he focus on ruchnius or does he 'bring his work home with him'? By asking such questions a person can hopefully internalize the lessons of the Omer. May we all merit to receive our livelihood without difficulty, and have ample opportunity to grow closer to Hashem.

EMOR – OUR PORTION IN OLAM HABA

The Parsha ends with the distressing story of the Mekalel, the son of an Egyptian man, and Jewish woman, who committed the grave sin of blasphemy and as a result was punished with the death penalty. The episode begins with the words, “the son of an Israelite woman went out – and he was the son of an Egyptian man – among the Children of Israel…” Chazal and the commentaries point out that the significance of the words, “went out” is unclear. Rashi, quoting the Medrash, explains that the Torah is telling us that, “he went out of his Olam (world).” The commentaries explain that this means that he forsook his portion in Olam Haba through the terrible sin that he committed. The Taz in his commentary on the Torah, notes further the use of the language, that he left “his world” as opposed to, “the world”. The Taz explains: “The explanation seems to be, that, from the day of his birth, every member of the Jewish people is connected to the Upper World [ie. Olam Haba] in a Holy place. But when he sins he leaves that place where he is connected; therefore it says that he ‘went out’.” This explanation provides us with an important understanding of the Torah outlook with regard to reward and punishment in Olam Haba. One may think that a person in this world has no intrinsic connection to Olam Haba, rather when he dies and goes up, he will receive prizes (like in a raffle) for the Mitzvos he did, and will lose things for the sins he did. The reward that is ‘Olam Haba’ is viewed upon as being his prize. The Taz shows us that that is not the case – rather from his birth, a Jew is intrinsically connected to Olam Haba – what is the cause of this connection? It is obviously his soul; by dong Mitzvos he nourishes his soul and thereby ‘improves’ the nature of the Olam Haba that he will ‘receive’. By sinning he damages his soul and thereby loses certain elements of his Olam Haba – and without teshuva he has to go to Gehinnom to cleanse himself from the impurities on his soul because of the sin . The sin of the mekalel was so great that he lost his Olam HaBah . Thus, we see from here that that reward and punishment in the next world is not arbitrary, rather a person creates his own Olam Haba or lack thereof. There is a second important lesson that can be derived from the Taz: Some religions believe that people are intrinsically evil because of the sin of Adam, and that one must get out of that state of inherent evil. We see from the Taz that the exact opposite is true. We are intrinsically good and Holy and connected to Olam Haba - our job is just not to lose it, rather to tend to our Portion well. This concept is brought out by the Mishna in Sanhedrin which states: “Every Jew has a Portion in the World to Come…” The commentaries ask is it true that every Jews gets Olam Haba? Indeed the Mishna later enumerates the people who get no Olam Haba! The answer is that the Mishna does not say that every person ultimately receives Olam Haba rather that they all have a Chelek (Portion), and it is up to them to maintain and develop that portion. But if they neglect their job then they are in danger of losing it, as was the case with the people mentioned in the Mishna. An analogy of owning land can be used to help further understand the Mishna. The portion described here is like a plot of land; each person inherits a bare plot of land. It is up to him to tender the plot and plant it so that healthy crops grow in it. If at the end of one’s tenure of the crop, he has developed it well, then he can reap the rewards of his hard work. If, however, he neglects the crop, then it will remain undeveloped, and if he mistreats it, by throwing dangerous chemicals into it, for example, then he will damage it. At the end of his tenure, he will be left with a useless piece of land. So too, we are all born with a lofty soul that is our connection to Olam Haba. If we observe the Torah and Mitzvos then we will elevate our soul so that after our deaths our souls will be fitting vessels to enjoy the spiritual wonders of Olam Haba. If, however, we neglect and damage our souls, then they will be so badly stained that they will not be able to benefit from Olam Haba, and that soul will have to undergo the painful process of Gehinnom in order to be able to enter Olam Haba. We have seen how each Jew has an inherent connection to Olam Haba and that the way we conduct ourselves in this world determines the state of our portion in the Next World. There are is a very important practical lesson that should be derived from this knowledge. A person’s yetser hara (negative inclination) sometimes tells him that even if he acts incorrectly, HaShem will forgive his transgressions and he will avoid negative consequences, without having to do teshuva. However, this understanding is totally incorrect – when a person sins, he automatically damages his soul – it is not a matter of HaShem ‘letting him off or not’, rather HaShem has set up a system whereby there are natural spiritual consequences to one’s actions. Thus, just like in the physical world, it is understood that certain actions, such as walking off the roof of a building will cause great damage, the same is true in the spiritual world. Only teshuva can rectify the damage done by the sin.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Parachat Kedochim – Qui est prioritaire ? – Le point de vue de Rachi (Yehonathan Gefen)

u ne te vengeras pas et tu ne garderas pas rancune aux enfants de ton peuple ; tu aimeras ton prochain comme toi-même – Je suis Hachem. » (Yayikra, 19 : 18) Rachi commente, sur les mots « Tu aimeras ton prochain comme toi-même » : Rabbi Akiva dit : « C’est un principe fondamental de la Thora. » Ce précepte bien connu de la Thora ordonne à l’homme de se comporter avec son prochain comme il agit envers sa propre personne. Rachi rapporte les paroles de Rabbi Akiva qui explique qu’il s’agit d’un principe fondamental de la Thora. Les commentateurs expliquent que de nombreuses autres mitsvot sont basées sur celle d’aimer son prochain. Le ‘Hatam Sofer zatsal note une contradiction entre ces paroles de Rabbi Akiva et un autre principe que ce dernier énonce autre part. La Guemara dans Baba Metsia parle du cas de deux personnes qui se retrouvent dans le désert et seule l’une d’entre elles a une gourde d’eau. Il reste suffisamment d’eau pour que l’une d’elles, seulement, puisse survivre et atteindre un endroit habité. Que doit faire la personne à qui appartient la gourde ? Ben Betéra tranche qu’elle ne peut pas laisser son compagnon mourir seul, et qu’ils doivent donc partager le contenu de l’outre . Rabbi Akiva objecte, et déduit de la Thora un concept appelé « ‘hayékha kodmim » ; cela signifie que l’on a le droit de donner priorité à sa vie plutôt qu’à celle de son prochain. Rabbi Akiva tranche donc que le propriétaire de la gourde doit la garder . Le ‘Hatam Sofer zatsal écrit que ces deux dictons de Rabbi Akiva semblent se contredire. Son explication de la mitsva « Aime ton prochain comme toi-même » implique apparemment que l’on doit considérer autrui comme soi-même, tandis que le principe de « ‘hayékha kodmim » sous-entend que la personne en question passe avant . Il propose une réponse intéressante, faisant la distinction entre le monde spirituel et le monde matériel. Le cas rapporté dans Baba Metsia concerne le monde physique, la gachmiout – Rabbi Akiva estime alors que les besoins physiques de l’individu passent avant ceux de son prochain. Mais, dans Parachat Kedochim, Rabbi Akiva fait référence à la spiritualité, la rou’haniout. Dans ce domaine, il statue que l’on doit considérer autrui exactement comme soi-même. Pour étayer son opinion, le ‘Hatam Sofer affirme que c’est la raison pour laquelle Rabbi Akiva estime qu’il s’agit d’un principe fondamental de la Thora. N’aurait-il pas pu simplement dire que c’est un principe fondamental ? L’ajout des mots « de la Thora » vient préciser que dans le monde de la Thora, c’est-à-dire la spiritualité, il faut prendre l’ordre d’aimer son prochain comme soi-même au sens littéral et se conduire avec lui comme avec soi-même . Cette explication a pour corollaire qu’un homme doit être prêt à cesser sa propre étude pour enseigner à quelqu’un d’autre . Cela devient difficile à comprendre ; en effet, on nous demande, par là, de placer l’autre avant nous-mêmes et non au même niveau. En vérité, lorsqu’une personne inculque un savoir à une autre personne, elles sont toutes deux avantagées – l’élève apprend, mais le professeur profite également de son enseignement. Une autre question peut être posée sur l’explication du ‘Hatam Sofer. Pourquoi doit-on faire une distinction entre le domaine physique et le spirituel quand il s’agit de considérer son prochain ? Pourquoi, dans la rou’haniout, faut-il agir avec l’autre comme avec soi-même tandis que dans la gachmiout, on peut avoir la priorité ? En réalité, le peuple juif est une seule entité, sur le plan spirituel. Les commentateurs le comparent à un corps spirituel dans lequel chaque Juif a une part. Cela correspond au concept de « kol Israël arévim zé lazé » — chaque Juif est garant de son prochain. Au point que lorsqu’un Juif faute, on estime que d’autres Juifs ont également commis la faute . Par contre, au niveau physique, chacun est indépendant, tout simplement parce que chaque corps humain est distinct de l’autre. C’est la raison pour laquelle, bien qu’il y ait une obligation de se soucier des besoins physiques de son prochain, il n’est pas obligatoire de le considérer exactement comme soi-même. L’analyse du ‘Hatam Sofer ainsi que ses implications dans la halakha (loi juive) ne font pas l’unanimité . Néanmoins, d’un point de vue théorique, cette idée s’applique à tout le monde. Elle nous rappelle que le bien-être spirituel d’un autre Juif doit rester au centre de nos préoccupations – pas simplement parce que l’on doit se soucier d’autrui, mais parce que son échec est le nôtre et que ses réussites sont également les nôtres.

Entendiendo el verdadero significado de jésed

La luz de la Torá - Kedoshim (Levítico 19-20) Por Yehonasan Gefen La Torá enumera en la parashá de esta semana las diferentes relaciones prohibidas y sus castigos, y hacia el final de la lista declara: “El hombre que tome a su hermana, la hija de su padre o la hija de su madre, y vea su desnudez y ella vea la desnudez de él, jésed es, y serán apartados de la vista de los miembros de su pueblo; habrá descubierto la desnudez de su hermana y cargará con su iniquidad (1)”. Este versículo presenta un problema obvio: la descripción de una relación incestuosa como jésed. El jésed normalmente se traduce como bondad, por lo que cabe preguntarse, ¿qué bondad tiene la inmoralidad? Para responder esta pregunta debemos redefinir nuestro entendimiento de jésed. Una definición más precisa de jésed sería “un rasgo caracterizado por límites desbordados o ausentes”. Una importante consecuencia de esto es la benevolencia, ya que el jésed causa que la persona quiera compartir con los otros de forma abundante, rompiendo sus límites de egoísmo. Sin embargo, esta es sólo una de las tantas manifestaciones de jésed, y como en todas las características de personalidad, el jésed también tiene aspectos negativos. Una manifestación negativa del jésed es que la persona puede perder el sentido apropiado de los límites. El comportamiento inmoral involucra ignorar la aseveración de la Torá de que ciertas relaciones rompen los límites adecuados. Consecuentemente, la Torá describe ciertas formas de inmoralidad como jésed. Hay dos prominentes personajes de la Torá que representan aspectos negativos del rasgo de jésed: Ishmael y Lot. Nuestros sabios nos enseñan que Ishmael estaba profundamente involucrado en robo (2) e inmoralidad (3). La actitud de lo mío es tuyo y lo tuyo es mío lleva a creer que uno tiene el derecho de usurpar la esposa y las posesiones materiales de los demás. Lot creció en el hogar de Abraham y por lo tanto se acostumbró a hacer jésed con los demás, algo que quedó demostrado en su gran hospitalidad en Sodoma. Sin embargo, Lot claramente desarrolló un entendimiento de jésed pervertido, por ejemplo, cuando la gente de Sodoma amenazó con abusar de sus huéspedes, él prefirió ofrecer en cambio a sus propias hijas. Él hizo jésed con sus invitados a expensas de sus propias hijas (4). ¿Por qué Ishmael y Lot aplicaron tan mal el rasgo de jésed? La respuesta es que su jésed no fue adquirido en base a las pautas de la Torá, sino que fue resultado de la genética y de la crianza. Como vemos, incluso un rasgo que generalmente es positivo como el jésed puede tener ramificaciones indeseables si no se aplica de la manera correcta. Por ejemplo, una persona con una inclinación natural al jésed puede realizar acciones de bondad de una forma o en una cantidad equivocada. Por ejemplo una persona puede terminar siendo extremadamente bondadosa con sus amigos y olvidar cuidar lo suficiente de su propia familia. Otro ejemplo de esto es una persona caracterizada por el rasgo de jésed que tiene problemas para ponerse límites en diferentes aspectos de la vida, como ser puntual o confiable, porque le resulta difícil poner un límite a su tiempo. Es más, si una persona no tiene bien definidos los límites puede que le resulte difícil evitar la falsedad ya que la honestidad requiere la capacidad para adherirse a los límites de la verdad. La personificación del balance correcto de jésed es Abraham. Él claramente tenía una tendencia natural hacia el jésed, pero no permitió que sus inclinaciones naturales lo guiaran ciegamente. En cambio, cuando necesitó hacerlo, contuvo e incluso negó su jésed. En muchas ocasiones Abraham fue puesto en situaciones que lo forzaron a restringir su jésed (5), pero tuvo éxito en esas difíciles pruebas y demostró que su jésed no era controlado por su inclinación natural sino por su temor a Dios. Otro error común que suelen cometer las personas naturalmente bondadosas es esperar que las demás personas sean tan dadivosas como ellas. Consecuentemente no dudan en exigir que otros les hagan favores importantes, ya que ellos harían lo mismo por los demás. Sin embargo, pese a que la Torá nos exige que seamos muy generosos, también nos pide que tratemos de no depender de la bondad de los demás, como dice el Rey Salomón: “quien odia los regalos vivirá (6)” Nuestros Guedolim siempre rebasaban de jésed pero de todas formas solían rehusarse a aceptar cosas de los demás para sí mismos. Un ejemplo sorprendente es el del Brisker Rav, Rav Itzjak Zev Soloveitchik. Cuando Rav Soloveitchik era rabino de Brisk, había muchos niños de madres solteras pobres, y estas madres no podían criarlos. Nadie quería asumir la tremenda responsabilidad de cuidar a esos niños. ¿Qué hacían las pobres madres? Iban en medio de la noche y ponían a sus hijos en el umbral de la casa del Brisker Rav. Cuando llegaba la mañana y el Rav encontraba al niño llorando a su puerta, inmediatamente lo llevaba al interior de la casa y asumía la responsabilidad de encontrar a alguien que lo cuidara. Si no tenía éxito entonces él mismo se encargaba de las necesidades del pequeño (7). Pero a pesar de que el Brisker Rav ofrecía su ayuda constantemente era muy cuidadoso de no aceptar regalos de ningún tipo incluso en las circunstancias más difíciles. Cuando llegó a Palestina en 1941 junto con Rav Eliezer Yehudá Finkel, el Rosh Ieshivá de Mir, fue detenido en la oficina de control de pasaportes. La delegación que esperaba a los rabinos se enteró que no tenían dinero suficiente para pagar el impuesto de media lira (aproximadamente 80 shekels), y a quien no pagaba no se le permitía ingresar. Uno de los líderes de la Agencia Judía ofreció pagar el impuesto para el Brisker Rav, pero este se rehusó firmemente, diciendo: “Jamás en mi vida acepté dinero de nadie”. Después de mucha deliberación, un viejo residente de Brisk tuvo una idea. Entró a la oficina y se acercó al Brisker Rav: “Los miembros de la comunidad de Brisk que han venido a Israel quieren que el Rav continúe sirviendo como nuestro Rav. Le pagaremos al Rav un salario, al igual que hicimos en Brisk. Por lo tanto, quiero darle o mejor dicho prestarle dinero al Rav para que pague el impuesto, el cual posteriormente será descontado de su salario”. “Esa es una oferta que puedo aceptar”, dijo el Brisker Rav y aceptó el dinero (8). Puede que el Brisker Rav haya heredado el rasgo de jésed naturalmente o puede que no haya sido así, pero de todas maneras él sobresalió en la forma correcta de jésed al mismo tiempo que evitó sus aspectos negativos. Hemos visto que jésed no sólo significa bondad, sino que representa la propensión a desbordarse y la ausencia de límites, y vimos también que esto puede ser utilizado tanto para bien como para mal. Es más, hay una gran diferencia entre una persona que tiene el rasgo de jésed gracias a la genética o al hábito y una que lo ha desarrollado dentro de la perspectiva de la Torá. Quiera Dios que todos utilicemos el rasgo de jésed sólo para bien. Notas: (1) Kedoshim 20:17. (2) Rashi, Lej Lejá 16:12. (3) Rashi, Vaierá 21:9. (4) Ver Rambán, Vaierá 19:8. (5) Por ejemplo, cuando Dios le dice que eche a su hijo Ishmael y, más aún, cuando le ordena matar a su hijo Itzjak. (6) Mishlei 15:27. (7) Lorinz, “Bemejitzatam”. (8) Lorinz, “Bemejitzatam”.

UNDERSTANDING THE OMER

On the second day of Pesach, we are commanded to bring the Omer, a barley offering, in the Beis HaMikdash. The Torah further instructs us to count forty-nine days from this offering until the day before Shavuos. Rav Yosef Salant, ztz”l, in his work Be'er Yosef, asks a number of questions about the Omer. Among them, he notes that the Omer offering was the same volume as the other Minchah offerings: a tenth of an eiphah. Yet it is the only such offering described by the name “Omer” as opposed to simply as “a tenth of an eiphah.” What is the significance of this name? In addition, the Sefer HaChinuch states that the purpose of sefiras haOmer (counting the Omer) is to count toward the day of matan Torah (the giving of the Torah), Shavuos. We count to demonstrate our excitement about reaching this holy day. Rav Salant points out that it is difficult to see any specific connection between the Omer and the giving of the Torah. Rather, it seems that there were simply forty-nine days between the two events, and we count from one toward the other. Is there a connection between the seemingly separate occasions of the Omer offering and Shavuos? Rav Salant answers the first question by noting that the other time the word omer is used in the Torah is with regard to the manna, which the Jews received in the desert. In parashas Beshallach, the Torah states that Hashem commanded them to gather from the manna “an omer per person.” The Midrash also connects the Omer offering with the manna. It tells us that this offering was the Jews’ way of thanking Hashem for the manna. Rav Salant explains that during their time in the desert, the Jews did not have to exert any effort in order to attain their sustenance. The manna came directly from Heaven without any input from the people. Furthermore, no matter how much manna a person tried to gather, he would never be able to take more than he was allotted; rather, he would receive exactly what he needed. Because their sustenance was provided, the people were free to involve themselves in learning Torah and other forms of serving Hashem. However, when the Jews entered Eretz Yisrael, the manna stopped, and they had to earn a living through physical effort. With this change came a new danger: When a person’s toil bears fruit, his trust in Hashem may weaken, and he may attribute his success to his own hard work. To prevent this from happening, the Torah gave us the Omer offering. We offer the first produce of the season to Hashem, acknowledging that only He—rather than our own efforts—is the Source of our sustenance. By connecting the Omer to the manna through the same unit of volume, the Torah stresses that in truth there was no essential difference in how we attained our food in the desert and in Eretz Yisrael. Just as Hashem fed us in the desert, He was the Source of our sustenance once that miraculous period ended. The only difference was that now we no longer merited open miracles, so we had to exert a measure of physical effort in order to make a living. The Be'er Yosef adds a beautiful proof of the connection between the manna and the Omer. According to the Gemara in Kiddushin, the manna stopped falling when Moshe Rabbeinu died, but the people continued to eat what remained until they entered the land on 16 Nisan. We bring the Omer offering on that very date! Thus, every year, we begin counting the Omer on the day the manna stopped to further teach ourselves that the sustenance represented by the Omer is a continuation of the sustenance epitomized by the manna. Rav Salant then explains the connection between the Omer and Shavuos. Thus far, we have see how the Omer teaches us that our livelihood comes from Hashem. However, such an awareness is not sufficient. We must also realize that earning a living is not an end in itself, rather, it is a means to a greater end: having enough peace of mind that we can focus on serving Hashem without being overburdened by concerns about our livelihood. In this vein, the Torah connects the counting of the Omer to Shavuos to teach us that the purpose of the sustenance symbolized by the Omer is to take us to matan Torah, to enable us to learn and live the Torah. Thus, for forty-nine days we count the Omer, infusing ourselves with the realization that Hashem is the Source of our livelihood and that, moreover, He acts as that Source to enable us to get close to Him through learning and observing His Torah. The lessons of the manna have had great relevance throughout Jewish history. In the time of the prophet Yirmeyahu, the Jews had made working a greater priority than learning Torah. Yirmeyahu exhorted them to make Torah study their main focus. They replied by claiming that they needed to work in order to survive. He responded by bringing out a jar of manna stored in the Beis HaMikdash. He showed them that Hashem has many ways of providing man with a livelihood and that one should realize the futility of concentrating on his physical sustenance to the exclusion of his spiritual well-being. We no longer have that jar of manna to arouse us, but we still have the mitzvah of counting the Omer. It stands as a constant reminder that there is no benefit in making more than a reasonable effort to support ourselves, because ultimately Hashem is the sole Provider of our livelihood. Moreover, it teaches us that He provides for our needs so we can focus on the main avodah of growing closer to Hashem. These lessons apply differently to each individual. The amount of time one should spend working, learning, and being involved in other spiritual pursuits varies from person to person. However, during this period of sefiras HaOmer, each person should make his own accounting of the balance of his involvement in physical and spiritual matters. Does he work more than necessary? In his spare time, does he focus on spirituality or bring his work home with him? By asking such questions, a person can internalize the lessons of the Omer. May we all merit a livelihood without difficulty and ample opportunity to grow closer to Hashem.

THE OMER – REBBE AVIKA’S STUDENTS

The Omer is characterized by a period of mourning over the tragic deaths of Rebbe Akiva’s 24,000 students. The gemara explains that they were punished because they did not give sufficient honor to each other. However, the Medrash offers a different explanation. It states that they died because they were unwilling to share their Torah with others. How can these two seemingly contradictory maamarei Chazal (saying of the Rabbis) be resolved? In truth it is possible that both failings emanate from the same source: They both came about as a result of a slight lack of appreciation for the importance of Torah . The root of their failure to attribute sufficient honor to their fellow talmidei chachamim was a lacking in some small way in appreciation of the importance of Torah and the accompanying honor one must give those who learn it. It would seem that the Medrash’s criticism that they did not that they did not share their Torah could also emanate from a lack of respect for the importance of Torah. This is borne out from the following gemara, as explained by the Maharal. In Parshas Shelach, the Torah, in describing one who worships idols, says that "he disgraced the word of Hashem." The gemara in Sanhedin ascribes this degrading description to a number of other negative forms of behavior such as denying that the Torah is from HaShem. The gemara adds; "Rebbe Meir says; one who learns Torah and does not teach it is included in the category of, 'for he disgraced the word of HaShem' ." It is very difficult to understand why learning and not teaching can be placed in the same category as truly terrible sins such as denying that the Torah is from HaShem ! The Maharal explains that Kavod HaTorah is greatly enhanced when one spreads the word of Hashem to others. One who does not do so prevents Torah from being learnt by others. Therefore, he disgraces the word of Hashem because through his inaction he hinders the enhancement of Kavod HaShem . We see from the Maharal that a failure to teach others is indicative of a lack of true concern of the honor of the Torah. With this understanding, it seems that the gemara and Medrash are not arguing – both agree that Rebbe Akiva’s students were lacking in a slight degree in the appropriate appreciation for Torah. The consequences of these sins were so significant that all of these great men died, and as a result the gemara tells us that the world was desolate of Torah. This would seem to be a measure for measure punishment of their inability to spread Torah to others – since they did not teach Torah, they were punished that with their deaths, the continuation of the Torah would be under severe threat. This is not the only example where we see that a lack of teaching Torah was the cause of great desolation. The gemara in Avoda Zara describes the first two thousands of existence as being years of desolation (tohu) . This period ended when Avraham Avinu began to teach Torah to the world. At that time, the ‘period of Torah began’. Rav Moshe Feinstein zt”l notes that there were individuals who learnt Torah before Avraham Avinu, accordingly he asks how this period can be described as being one of spiritual desolation? He explains that since these men were not going out to teach others, it was impossible for Torah to spread throughout the world. Thus, even though there were individuals learning Torah, it was a time of great desolation. The desolation only ended when Avraham began teaching the world. We have seen how the failure to honor and spread Torah led to the devastating tragedy of the death of 24,000 talmidei chachamim. It is little surprise that the tikun (rectification) of the sin was that the new students should spread Torah. Accordingly, the Medrash informs us of Rebbe Akiva’s exhortation to his new students. He told them. “do not be like the first students.” The Medrash continues that that when they heard this, “they immediately got up and filled all of Eretz Yisroel with Torah.” Based on all the above, we have a new perspective about the reasons for the practice of mourning the deaths of the 24,000 students before Lag B’Omer. Some commentaries have pointed out that we do not mourn the deaths of people for longer than twelve months, no matter how great they are. In the Omer we are not mourning the deaths of the student, rather the devastating loss of Torah that came about as a result of their deaths. By mourning this loss of Torah, we can hopefully increase our appreciation for the Torah and the need to spread it to all Jews.

KEDOSHIM – DO NOT HATE YOUR BROTHER IN YOUR HEART

Parshas Kedoshim is replete with Mitzvos that teach about interpersonal relationships. Towards the end of this section, the Torah instructs us: “Do not hate your friend in your heart, rebuke your friend, do not bear upon him sin”. There are a number of questions on this verse: Firstly, why does the Torah stress that one may not hate his fellow davke in his heart, thus implying that it is only forbidden to hate someone in one’s heart, but not in any other way. Secondly, the three parts to the verse do not seem to be connected, however the fact that they are in the same verse strongly suggest that there is some kind of connection – what is it? Finally, the meaning of the last clause in the verse, “do not bear upon him sin,” is unclear. With regard to the Torah’s specification of hatred in one’s heart, many commentaries write that indeed the Torah is focusing particularly on hatred that is kept in one’s heart to the exclusion of hatred that is expressed externally. They explain that of course it is forbidden to express one’s displeasure with someone in a hostile fashion and that doing so can involve a number of prohibitions such as taking revenge and bearing a grudge. However, one who acts in this way does not transgress the Mitzvo to not hate one’s fellow in his heart, because he did not keep it inside, rather he expressed it to the subject of his displeasure. In this Mitzvo the Torah is focusing on situations in which a person feels hurt or offended by someone else and he chooses to keep his hatred inside, without discussing it with the person who hurt him. The problem with this inaction is that it will inevitably cause the hatred to fester with very negative consequences. The Rambam offers the example in Tanach of the incident with Amnon and Tamar. After Amnon committed his terrible deed, the Prophet tells us that Tamar’s brother, Avshalom, bore a great hatred for his half-brother, Amnon, and did not speak to him about what happened at all. The Ralbag writes that had he spoken to Amnon about what happened then the hatred would have dissipated. Instead it grew to the point that Avshalom had Amnon murdered two years later. Even though Amnon clearly committed a grave sin and Avshalom seemingly had every right to be furious with him for what happened, nonetheless he is taken to task for not speaking to Amnon, and letting the hatred fester with terrible consequences. We have now answered the first question of why the Torah particularly focuses on hatred in one’s heart. This form of hatred has its own unique problem that is not found to the same degree in hatred which is expressed; It results in an unnecessary escalation of the hatred which could have been avoided with dialogue. In this vein, the Sefer HaChinuch writes that internal hatred is worse than revealed hatred, and that is why the Torah singled out this form of hatred in particular. He continues with very strong language, writing, “the root reason for this Mitzvo; because hatred in one’s heart causes great evil between people, causing permanent conflict between brothers and friends… and it is the lowest and most disgusting trait which is the most reprehensible in the eyes of people with common sense.” We can now also understand the continuation of the verse; “rebuke your friend”. The commentaries explain that in addition to referring to the standard rebuke that is required when one sees another person sinning, this Mitzvo also includes situations in which one is hurt by his fellow. The Torah instructs us, do not hate your fellow in your heart by keeping it to yourself, rather you must speak to him about it - that is the rebuke that the Torah refers to. The Ohr HaChaim explains that there are two likely consequences of speaking to him in a reasonable manner about the pain he has caused. Either he will explain his actions showing that in fact he did not commit a sin and that there was some kind of misunderstanding. Or, he will admit that he did behave incorrectly, and now that he realizes that damage that he caused, he will apologize and vow not to do it again. The Ohr HaChaim then explains the meaning of the final clause in the verse, “do not bear upon him sin”. It means that when someone hurts you, you should not immediately assume that he sinned, rather you should judge him favorably, and assume that he perhaps didn’t sin at all, and even if he did, that he would gladly repent if he realized the damage that he caused. We have seen the reprehensible nature of internal hatred, and the accompanying necessity of speaking to a person towards whom one bears any sense of hatred because of something he did. Experience proves that when one follows the Torah’s instructions in these areas, the result is almost always that the person does explain himself and apologizes for inadvertent pain caused. The vast majority of people are not cruel and do not intend to hurt other people. Therefore when the victim of harsh words or some other form of behavior explains to the person how they were feeling, the result is almost always positive, preventing an unnecessary escalation of hatred, and avoiding a great deal of needless pain. It is not easy to approach someone in such a way, however the fear involved in no way exempts one from the Torah obligation to try to clarify the situation. May we all merit to have open and honest relationships where disputes can be quickly resolved.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Parachat A’haré Moth – Utiliser les mauvaises influences pour le bien

Avant de nous détailler la liste des relations interdites, la Thora nous ordonne : « N’imitez pas les pratiques du pays d’Égypte, où vous avez demeuré, n’imitez pas les pratiques du pays de Canaan où Je vous conduis… » Rachi nous informe que Mitsraïm et Canaan étaient les nations les plus dépravées, et les quartiers où résidaient les Juifs étaient les plus immoraux de tous. Pourquoi Hachem a-t-Il placé le peuple juif dans les endroits les plus corrompus du monde ? Le rav Dessler zatsal répond à cette question dans un essai concernant la façon de réagir aux mauvaises influences . Il note qu’un entourage néfaste peut être très nuisible pur l’individu. Néanmoins, si ce dernier est suffisamment fort pour ne pas se laisser influencer par ces emprises négatives, il peut les utiliser pour se renforcer et améliorer son service de D. Comment y parvenir ? Le rav Dessler remarque que le simple fait de voir le mal autour de nous peut nous dégoûter, parce que ses défauts sont d’autant plus visibles ; ceci nous permet de nous renforcer et d’apprécier davantage le bien. D’après cet enseignement sur la nature humaine, rav Dessler explique pourquoi Hachem plaça, à dessein, le peuple juif dans les endroits les plus dépravés au monde. « À chaque fois qu’un tsadik devait s’élever à un haut niveau, il fut placé dans un environnement bas et corrompu afin d’apprendre l’abjection du mal et de s’efforcer de s’en éloigner jusqu’atteindre le bien suprême. » Hachem décida que le peuple juif allait vivre en Égypte pour qu’il développe une répugnance profonde vis-à-vis de l’impureté qui y régnait. C’est effectivement ce qui motiva les Bné Israël à implorer Hachem de les faire sortir de ce terrible endroit. Ce dégoût intense leur permit de passer rapidement du 49ème degré d’impureté à un niveau tel qu’ils purent recevoir la Thora. S’ils avaient vécu dans un environnement moins immoral, ils n’auraient pas pu s’élever et atteindre un si haut niveau. Cela peut également expliquer pourquoi le peuple juif devait se rendre à un endroit si abject. Le fait de voir le comportement extrêmement immoral des Cananéens était censé les dégoûter du mal et leur faire apprécier la moralité de la Thora . Rav Dessler utilise ce fondement pour comprendre un autre passage de la paracha de cette semaine – le Séir Laazazel (le bouc émissaire). Durant le jour le plus saint de l’année, Yom Kippour, Hachem nous ordonne de traverser le désert avec un bouc et de le jeter du haut d’une falaise. Pourquoi traverser le désert ? Rav Dessler répond que le désert est un endroit où les gens sacrifient des boucs pour les démons. En conduisant le bouc dans ce lieu impur et en voyant de près cette impureté le jour de Kippour, le peuple se renforçait dans leur avodat Hachem. Le principe de rav Dessler nous aide également à comprendre quelques faits liés à la fête de Pessa’h. Nous entamons la Haggada en évoquant nos ancêtres idolâtres. Rav Dessler demande en quoi cela est relié à l’histoire de la sortie d’Égypte. Il répond que la grande négativité que côtoya Avraham Avinou lui permit de s’élever à un niveau de kedoucha tel que cette sainteté ne put et ne pourra jamais être supprimée. La sortie d’Égypte est le résultat direct de cette kedoucha. C’est pourquoi nous parlons de l’idolâtrie de nos ancêtres pour monter qu’en conséquence de leur touma (impureté), Avraham put atteindre un niveau incroyablement élevé et c’est cette grandeur qui permit la sortie d’Égypte. Nous pouvons à présent mieux comprendre pourquoi la Haggada parle tellement des mauvaises influences de nos ancêtres idolâtres, de l’Égypte et de Lavan. C’est peut-être pour susciter en nous une aversion pour cette immoralité et, par conséquent intensifier notre appréciation du fait qu’Hachem nous ait fait sortir de ce pays et nous ait donné la Thora. Dans le monde actuel, nous devons inévitablement faire face à l’influence du monde laïc ; même lorsque nous vivons dans un milieu orthodoxe, le mal nous harcelle quotidiennement. Il est bien entendu vivement recommandé de l’éviter au maximum, mais il reste impossible de supprimer tout contact avec cet entourage. L’enseignement de rav Dessler peut nous aider à gérer ces influences et peut-être même, à les utiliser positivement. En prenant conscience des vices du monde laïc, nous pouvons renforcer notre appréciation pour la beauté du mode de vie imposé par la Thora. Puissions-nous tous mériter d’être protégés des mauvaises influences et de les utiliser pour nous rapprocher d’Hachem.

Ajarei Mot (Levítico 16-18) Entornos negativos

Antes de detallar la lista de relaciones prohibidas, la Torá nos instruye: “No imites las prácticas de la tierra de Egipto en la que habitaron; y no imites las prácticas de la tierra de Canaán a la que los traigo... (1)”. Rashi comenta que Egipto y Canaán eran las dos naciones más decadentes del mundo en el plano moral, y que en particular los egipcios de las zonas en las cuales habitaban los judíos eran las peores secciones de dichos países. ¿Por qué Dios puso deliberadamente al pueblo judío en los lugares más corruptos de la Tierra? Rav Dessler responde esta pregunta en un ensayo que trata sobre cómo debería reaccionar uno ante los entornos negativos (2). Él nota que pese a que es verdad que una sociedad corrupta puede tener un efecto muy negativo en una persona, si la persona es lo suficientemente fuerte como para que las influencias negativas no la afecten entonces el resultado puede ser en realidad un fortalecimiento en su servicio Divino. ¿Cómo puede ocurrir esto? Rav Dessler explica que cuando una persona ve el mal que la rodea, entonces dicho mal llega a ser mucho más repudiable ante sus ojos, ya que la persona reconoce claramente la negatividad, lo cual a su vez le permite fortalecerse a sí misma aún más en su valoración del bien. Basado en ese entendimiento de la naturaleza humana, Rav Dessler hace una observación histórica que explica por qué Dios puso al pueblo judío en los lugares más degenerados de la tierra: “Siempre que hizo falta que un tzadik (hombre recto) se elevara hasta un nivel extremadamente alto, el tzadik fue puesto primero en los entornos más bajos y degenerados de forma que pudiera aprender de ellos la bajeza del mal y que consecuentemente se fortaleciera en lo bueno hasta el extremo opuesto (3)”. Rav Dessler escribe que Dios puso intencionalmente al pueblo judío en Egipto para que desarrollara un intenso odio a la gran impureza circundante, y explica que ese mismo odio fue lo que los hizo clamar a Dios pidiendo ser liberados. Este profundo desagrado le permitió al pueblo judío elevarse rápidamente desde el nivel 49 de impureza hasta el excelso nivel en el que fueron aptos para recibir la Torá. Si el pueblo judío hubiera estado rodeado por un entorno menos inmoral no hubiera podido elevarse a un nivel tan elevado. Esta idea puede servir también para explicar por qué el pueblo judío tuvo que dirigirse a una tierra tan aborrecible. Ver el comportamiento extremadamente inmoral de las naciones canaanitas sirvió para intensificar el desagrado del pueblo judío por el mal y, consecuentemente, elevar su valoración de la moralidad de la Torá (4). Rav Dessler utiliza este concepto para ayudarnos a entender también otro pasaje que aparece en la parashá de esta semana: el seir la-azazel. En Iom Kipur, el día más sagrado del año, la Torá nos ordena que llevemos un chivo al desierto y que lo arrojemos desde un acantilado. ¿Por qué hay que conducir al chivo por el desierto? Rav Dessler explica que el desierto era el lugar en que la gente ofrendaba chivos a las fuerzas negativas; al conducir al chivo por este lugar y exponerse a su impureza en Iom Kipur, el pueblo se fortalecía aún más en su Avodat Hashem, 'servicio Divino'. El principio de Rav Dessler también nos ayuda a entender algunas ideas sobre Pesaj. Comenzamos la Hagadá diciendo que nuestros ancestros adoraron ídolos. Rav Dessler pregunta qué tiene que ver este dato con la historia del Éxodo de Egipto, y responde que gracias a que Abraham estuvo expuesto a una negatividad tan grande, él se pudo elevar a un nivel tan alto de santidad que su poder jamás será anulado. La redención de Egipto emergió directamente de esta santidad, por ende, hablamos sobre la idolatría de nuestros antepasados para resaltar que fue como consecuencia de la impureza de dicha idolatría que Abraham se pudo elevar y alcanzar una grandeza tan suprema que le permitió plantar las semillas para el Éxodo de Egipto. Ahora podemos entender mejor por qué la Hagadá habla extensamente sobre las influencias negativas, incluyendo a nuestros ancestros idólatras, a los egipcios y a Labán. Quizás la Hagadá busca con esto despertar nuestro aborrecimiento hacia esas personas inmorales y, de esa forma, elevar nuestro aprecio por Dios por habernos liberado de ellas y habernos entregado la Torá. En el mundo actual hay un peligro constante de numerosas influencias nocivas. El principio de Rav Dessler puede ayudarnos a lidiar con esas influencias y quizás puede incluso ayudarnos a utilizarlas para bien. Observando lo malo que nos rodea podemos aumentar nuestro aprecio por la belleza del estilo de vida de la Torá. Notas: (1) Ajarei Mot 18:3. (2) Mijtav MeEliahu, Cap. 1 p.157-160 (3) Ibíd. p.158. (4) Obviamente el pueblo judío tuvo libre albedrío para elegir entre rechazar las costumbres canaanitas por completo o aceptar a esas personas como vecinas y, por lo tanto, verse afectados negativamente por ellas. La historia demuestra que no destruyeron completamente a sus vecinos y que, con el tiempo, efectivamente fueron influenciados negativamente por los canaanitas.

אחרי מות - שימוש השפעה שלילית לטוב

לפני שמפרטת התורה את האסורים בנישואין, היא מצווה "כְּמַעֲשֵׂה אֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם אֲשֶׁר יְשַׁבְתֶּם בָּהּ לא תַעֲשׂוּ וּכְמַעֲשֵׂה אֶרֶץ כְּנַעַן אֲשֶׁר אֲנִי מֵבִיא אֶתְכֶם שָׁמָּה לא תַעֲשׂוּ וּבְחֻקּתֵיהֶם לא תֵלֵכוּ" רש"י כותב שמצרים וכנען היו שני העמים המקולקלים ביותר מבחינה מוסרית, והמקומות בהם ישבו ישראל בתוך ארצות אלו – היו המקולקלים מכל. מדוע הושיב הקדוש ברוך הוא את עם ישראל דווקא במקומות המושחתים והמקולקלים ביותר בעולם? הר' דסלר זצ"ל משיב על שאלה זו במאמר הדן בתפקיד האדם בהימצאו בסביבה שלילית . הוא כותב שסביבה שלילית עלולה להיות בעלת השפעה מזיקה ביותר על האדם. אולם, אם הוא חזק מספיק, ואינו מושפע לרעה מהסביבה, אזי הוא יכול דווקא להתחזק מאד בעבודתו כתוצאה מסביבתו. כיצד זה ייתכן? מסביר הר' דסלר שכאשר הוא רואה את מעשיהם הרעים של הסובבים אותו - תחושת הסלידה ממעשים אלה רק תגדל בעיניו, כיוון שהוא יגיע להכרה ברורה יותר עד כמה גרועים ושליליים הם, מכך הוא יתחזק בעצמו, ותגדל עד מאד בעיניו ההערכה לטוב ולאמת. על בסיס הבנה זו בנפש האדם, בונה הר' דסלר יסוד הסטורי המסביר מדוע הושיב הקב"ה את היהודים דווקא במקומות הגרועים בתבל: "בכל פעם שהיה צורך לתת אפשרות לצדיק להתעלות למדרגה גדולה עליונה מאד, נזרק הצדיק אל סביבת השפלים היותר גרועים למען ילמד מהם את שחיתות הרע ויתאמץ בטוב עד מרום קצו" הקב"ה הושיב את עם ישראל דווקא במצרים כדי לאפשר להם לפתח שנאה עזה לטומאת מצרים, אשר לדבריו, הייתה הגורם שהביא אותם לצעוק אל ה' שיוציאם ממקום נורא זה. תיעוב זה שחשו כלפי טומאת מצרים, הוא שאפשר להם להתנער לחלוטין ממ"ט שערי טומאה ולהגיע לדרגה הראויה לקבלת התורה. אם לא היו נמצאים קודם לכן בסביבה כה מושחתת - לעולם לא היו משיגים מנגד דרגות כה גבוהות של קדושה ורוממות. על פי זה מובן גם מדוע הוביל הקב"ה את עמו לכנען, שאף היא מלאת זימה היתה. בראותם התנהגות כה שפלה של עמי כנען, תתגבר ותתחזק תחושת התיעוב למעשים אלו, ומצד שני תגדל הערכתם למוסר התורה . הר' דסלר משתמש ביסוד זה להבנת נושא אחר הנידון בפרשה – השעיר לעזאזל. ביום הקדוש בשנה, יום הכיפורים, ציווה הקדוש ברוך הוא להוביל שעיר במדבר ולהשליך אותו לעזאזל. מהי המשמעות המונחת בהובלת השעיר דרך המדבר? הוא מסביר שבמדבר היו בני אדם מקריבים שעירים לשדים. כאשר מובילים את השעיר במקום טמא כזה נחשפים לטומאת המדבר דווקא ביום הקדוש בשנה, ומכך מתחזקים יותר ויותר בעבודת ה'. על פי יסוד זה ניתן גם להבין כמה עניינים הקשורים לחג הפסח. אנו פותחים בהגדה בתיאור אבותינו שבתחילה עובדי עבודה זרה היו. שואל הר' דסלר – כיצד זה מתקשר לסיפור יציאת מצרים? ותשובתו – מתוך סביבה כה שלילית ומלאת עבודת אלילים – דווקא משם צמח אברהם אבינו ודווקא על ידי כך הגיע לדרגות גבוהות של קדושה שמכוחה אנו שואבים עד היום הזה. גם גאולת מצרים נובעת ישירות מאותה קדושה. לכן אנו מזכירים תחילה את אבותינו שהיו עובדי עבודה זרה, להדגיש את התוצאה הישירה של טומאתם – השגיו הרוחניים הנשגבים של אברהם אבינו ודרגות הקדושה הגבוהות אליהן הגיע. וגדולתו וקדושתו – היא זו שעמדה ביסוד הזכות ליציאת מצרים. עתה נוכל לקבל הבנה עמוקה יותר, מדוע מאריכה ההגדה בתיאור ה"גנות" שהייתה "בתחילה" – הכוללת את אבותינו עובדי האלילים, המצרים ולבן. כנראה הכוונה כאן היא לעורר בנו את התיעוב והשנאה כלפי בני אדם בלתי מוסריים כאלה, ומצד שני לחזק בנו את ה"שבח" הגדול, ואת ההודאה לה' שהוציאנו מידם ונתן לנו את התורה. בעולם של ימינו, נסיון ההשפעה השלילית מסביב הוא בלתי נמנע. גם מי שמתגורר בסביבה שומרת תורה ומצוות, השפעת העולם החילוני היא עצומה, ומכה בכל יום מחדש. אין ספק שמומלץ ורצוי לכל אחד להשתדל עד כמה שיותר להפחית את עוצמתה עד כמה שניתן, אולם בכל מקרה, בלתי אפשרי ליצור נתק מוחלט מכל מגע עמהם. דברי הר' דסלר יכולים לסייע לנו לנהוג בחכמה ובזהירות עם ההשפעה השלילית, ואף להשתמש בה לטוב. על ידי שנכיר בחסרונות הגלויים והידועים של העולם החילוני שסביבנו נוכל להגביר את הערכתנו ליופי הטמון בחיי תורה. ייתן ה' ונזכה כולנו לשמור את עצמנו מהשפעות שלילית מזיקות, ולדעת להשתמש בהם לגדול ולהתקרב עוד ועוד להקב"ה.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

ACHAREI MOS – USING NEGATIVE INFLUENCE FOR THE GOOD

Before detailing the list of forbidden relationships the Torah instructs us: “Do not perform the practices of the land of Egypt in which you dwelled; and do not perform the practices of the land of Canaan to which I bring you.. ” Rashi writes that Mitzrayim and Canaan were the most morally decadent nations and in particular those parts in which the Jews dwelled were the worst sections of these countries. Why did Hashem deliberately place the Jewish people in the most corrupt places on Earth? Rav Dessler zt”l answers this question in an essay in which he discusses how one should react to negative surroundings . He observes that negative society can have a very detrimental effect on a person. However, if he is strong enough so that the negative influences do not effect him, then, it can actually strengthen him in his Avoda. How is this so? Rav Dessler explains that when he sees the surrounding evil it becomes more disgusting in his eyes because he attains a greater recognition of its chesronos, this enables him to strengthen himself even further in his appreciation of good. Based on this understanding of human nature, Rav Dessler makes a historical observation that can explain why Hashem deliberately placed the Jewish people in the most degenerate places on Earth. “Every time where there was a necessity for a tzaddik to rise to an extremely high level the tzaddik was flung into the most lowly and degenerate environments so that he could learn from them the lowliness of evil and strengthen himself in good to the opposite extreme. ” Hashem deliberately placed the Jewish people in Mitzrayim so that they could develop an intense hatred of its tuma which, he writes, was indeed their motivation for crying out to Hashem to free them from this terrible place. This intense disgust enabled them to rapidly rise from being on the 49th level of tuma to reaching the level of being able to receive the Torah. Had they found themselves in a less immoral environment then they would not have been able to rise to such a high level. This too would seem to explain why the Jewish people had to go to a similarly abhorrent land. Seeing the highly immoral behavior of the Canaanite nations was intended to intensify their disgust at evil and in turn, heighten their appreciation of Torah morality . Rav Dessler uses this yesod to help understand another passage discussed in the parsha - the Seir l’Azazel. On the most holy day of the year, Yom Kippur, Hashem commands us to take a goat through the desert and throw it off a cliff. What is the significance of leading the goat through the desert? Rav Dessler explains that the desert is the makom where people sacrifice goats to sheidim. By leading the goat through this tamei place and being exposed to its tuma on Yom Kippur, the people become further strengthened in Avodas Hashem. Rav Dessler’s yesod also helps us understand some inyanim relating to Pesach. We begin the Haggadah discussing our ancestors who worshipped idols. Rav Dessler asks, how is this connected to the story of leaving Mitzrayim? He answers that through being surrounded by such negativity, Avraham Avinu rose to such a high level of kedusha to the extent that its power would never be nullified. The geula from Mitzrayim sprouted directly from this kedusha.. Therefore, we talk about our idol-worshipping ancestors to highlight that it was directly as a result of their tuma that Avraham emerged to reach such an incredibly high level and it was his greatness in turn that planted the seeds for yetsias Mitzrayim. We can now gain a deeper understanding of why the Haggaddah goes to considerable length to discuss the negative influences that include our idol-worshipping ancestors, the Mitzrim and Lavan. Perhaps this is intended to arouse our disgust at such immoral people and in turn, heighten our appreciation of Hashem for freeing us from them and giving us the Torah. In today’s world, the nisayon of secular influences is unavoidable. Even if we live in observant neighborhoods, the myriad negative influences bombard us daily. It is of course highly advisable to strive to reduce their influence as much as possible but nonetheless it is impossible to completely eliminate any exposure to them. Rav Dessler’s yesod can help us deal with these influences and perhaps even use them for the good. By observing the obvious chesronos of the secular world we can enhance our appreciation for the beauty of the Torah lifestyle. May we all merit to protect ourselves from negative influences and instead to use them to grow closer to Hashem.

ACHAREI MOS – GOING FORWARD

In the midst of the Parsha’s outline of various Mitzvos, the Torah exhorts us with regard to our observance of the Torah in a general sense: “Perform My Laws, and guard My Statutes, to go in them, I am HaShem.” The meaning of the words, “to go in them” are unclear; what is this adding to the command to observe the Torah? The Ksav Sofer answers by explaining the Tanach’s use of the word with the opposite meaning of ‘going’ that is, omed, which means standing. It is used in relation to Malachim (Angels), as it says in Yeshaya, “The Serafim [a type of Malach] stand opposite him.” Malachim ‘stand’ in the sense that they remain stationary in their spiritual level, they have no connection to the concept of ‘growth’. Therefore, in contrast, the Torah tells us to be in a state of ‘going’, which means that we constantly strive to improve our spiritual level and to avoid remain standing still. The Ksav Sofer makes a similar point in Parshas Bechukosai on the opening verse: “If you will go in My Statutes, and keep my Mitzvos, and do them.” The Ksav Sofer writes: “It is not enough that you keep the Mitzvos every day on the same level as on the previous days, rather you should constantly go from one level to a higher level, and perform the Mitzvo in a better and more praiseworthy fashion.” We see from the Ksav Sofer that in addition to keeping the Mitzvos, one must constantly strive to go forward in his Avodas HaShem (Divine Service) and that ‘standing still’ is not an option. It seems further, that with regard to human beings there is no such concept as ‘remaining on the same spiritual level’, rather one is either going forward or backwards and it is only Malachim who are able to remain stationary without going backwards. This idea is expressed in a drush explanation of the prohibition of going up steps when approaching the Mizbeach (Altar) when approaching to perform the Divine Service. Instead of steps, they were to build a ramp going up to the Mizbeach. Why must one go up a ramp as opposed to steps? When climbing up a steep ramp, one must exert forward movement merely to remain still. If he tries to be stationary, the steepness of the slope will cause him to actually go backwards. He will only remain in the same place with a certain amount of forward pressure, and he will only advance with a greater display of forward movement. In contrast, when one walks up steps he is able to stay still without fear of falling back since the surface he is standing on is flat. This teaches us that when one approaches Divine Service, he must actively exert himself in order to remain stable, and to go forward he needs to exert himself greatly. The modern day analogy of this is trying to go up an escalator that is moving down. This explanation however, begs a new question - why is it the case that when a person makes no active effort he actually goes backwards as opposed to staying stationary? The reason is that the yetser hara (negative inclination) makes a constant effort to bring a person down in his spiritual level. Therefore, if the person is not making any active effort to go forward then it is inevitable that he will be going backwards since the yetser hara will be busy pushing him back and there will be no counteractive force to keep him steady. One may still ask that we look at many people who do not seem to be making any active effort to grow and yet they seem to remain on the same level, it is not obviously apparent that they are deteriorating spiritually. It seems that there are two aspects to the decline that takes place. One is that on a very subtle level the yetser hara does gradually weaken a person in his Avodas HaShem. This is such a subtle process that it is not evident to onlookers, and normally even the person himself is unaware of his gradual decline! The second way in which he goes down is that the longer he doesn’t work on areas where he is lacking he falls deeper and deeper into the trap of habit. The more a person continues with his bad habits the harder it becomes to pull himself away from his erroneous behavior. Only by great effort will he be able to break his bad habits. We have seen how fundamental active growth is to Avodas HaShem and how there is no option of standing still in one’s spirituality. This lesson is very pertinent as we strive to learn the lessons from the recent Festival of Pesach; Pesach is the time when the power of renewal is at its highest level. A person who resolved to make a strong effort to grow in his Avodas HaShem will receive great siyata dishmaya (Heavenly help) on Pesach. Even after Pesach is over we are now in the time period of Sefiras HaOmer (Counting of the Omer), a time that is particularly powerful for working on one’s character traits in preparation for the Receiving of the Torah. Obviously, it is important that a person not take on too much in his efforts at growth, perhaps it is more advisable to take one area where one feels that he is in something of a rut, and make a concerted effort at growing in that area, whether it be more care in one’s Shabbos observance, Torah learning, prayer, guarding one’s speech, marriage, parenting or any number of areas. If one really dedicates himself to grow then surely the lessons of Pesach will enable him to succeed. .