Listen to our shiurim on Masekhet Avodah Zarah from this past week!
Thursday, February 28, 2019
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
R. Ovadia Yosef & Secular Jews
Listen to last night's class, "R. Ovadia Yosef & Secular Jews," here.
Follow along with the sources here.
For further research:
1) Listen to our halakhah class, "The Status of Today's Mehalelei Shabbat" here.
2) Read Adam Ferziger's analysis of Binyan Sion's teshuvah (Source 1) and several other related decisions of R. Yaakov Ettlinger, in chapter 4 of Exclusion and Hierarchy, here.
Sunday, February 24, 2019
Parashat Ki Tissa: Dialogue
Dialogue
Thoughts on Ki Tissa 2019
Click here to view as PDF
As his forty-day rendezvous with God drew to an end,
Moshe received the luhot:
And
He gave Moshe when He had finished speaking with him on Har Sinai the two
tablets of the Covenant, tablets of stone written by the finger of God. (Shemot 32:18)
Those days were
filled with deep dialogue, and now – “when He had finished speaking with him” –
Moshe was handed a physical manifestation of Torah. Receiving the luhot, then,
represented the shift from a spoken mode of transmission to one that
was textual. The luhot were, in the words of Avivah Gottlieb
Zornberg, “the permanent residue of a dialogue between God and man.”[1]
Descending Har
Sinai and encountering the panicked people of Am Yisrael, however, Moshe
reflected upon the dangers of a system that could potentially deemphasize presence
and dialogue. It was, after all, Moshe’s absence that inspired het
ha-egel:
And
the people saw that Moshe lagged in coming down from the mountain, and the
people assembled against Aharon and said to him: “Rise up, make us gods that
will go before us, for this man Moshe who brought us up from the land of Egypt,
we do not know what has happened to him.” (32:1)
And so, Moshe then “flung
the tablets from his hand and smashed them at the bottom of the mountain”
(32:20). Realizing the importance of personal involvement to the Torah’s
transmission and fearing the danger of a potentially “impersonal” growth by
means of the “speechless” luhot, Moshe sought their immediate
destruction.
The Hakhamim
famously portrayed the altered reality that resulted from smashing the luhot:
“If the tablets had not been broken, Torah would not have been forgotten in
Israel.”[2]
Surprisingly, however, Ibn Ezra cited from R. Saadia Gaon, who contended that
the second luhot were in fact greater than the first ones that he
smashed.[3]
Basing himself on several midrashim, Nessiv explained that the second luhot
differed from the first by introducing the reality of Torah she-be-al
peh – the Oral Law. While Moshe received a vast knowledge of Torah and its
laws at the time that he received the first set of tablets, the possibility of
future interpretation and creative commentary, as transmitted from teacher to
student, was born only with the second luhot.
The first luhot were
“God’s doing” (32:16), which represented an explicit reception from God and the
impossibility of forgetting. The second tablets, in contrast, were crafted by
Moshe (34:1) and prone to the human reality of forgetting, thus emerging as the
forebearer of oral transmission.[4]
Indeed, in the
aftermath of het ha-egel Moshe seemed focused on the restoration of
God’s presence amongst the people. He moved the Tent, and named it “Ohel
Mo’ed – the Tent of Meeting”:
And
Moshe would take the Tent and pitch it outside the camp, far from the camp, and
he called it Ohel Mo’ed (the
Tent of Meeting). And so, whoever sought God would go out to Ohel Mo’ed
which was outside the camp. (33:7)
And the nation
understood and appreciated his own dialogue with God:
And
so, when Moshe would go out to the Tent, all the people would rise and each man
would station himself at the entrance of his tent and they would look after
Moshe until he came to the Tent. And so, when Moshe would come to the Tent, the
pillar of cloud would come down and stand at the entrance of the Tent and speak
with Moshe. And all the people would see the pillar of cloud standing at the
entrance to the Tent, and all the people would rise and bow down each man at
the entrance of his tent.
(33:8-10)
Am Yisrael then learned that transmitting
the Torah entailed more than merely passing down a text; it required presence
and dialogue:
And
God would speak to Moshe face-to-face, as a man speaks to his fellow. (33:11)
In her best-selling
book Alone Together, psychologist Sherry Turkle pointed to a particular
digression that has emerged with our smartphones. The invention of the first
telephones, she observed, enhanced our long-distance expressions of emotion by
moving us from the impersonal texts of letters and telegrams to sharing our
actual voices. Our smartphones, in contrast, depersonalize even our
short-distance expressions of emotion by replacing our voices with the words
and letters of text-messages, emails and Twitter posts. Turkle quoted a friend,
who remarked: “We cannot all write like Lincoln or Shakespeare, but even the
least gifted among us has this incredible instrument, our voice, to communicate
the range of human emotion. Why would we deprive ourselves of that?”[5]
The failure of the
first luhot stemmed from feelings of absence – Moshe’s immediate disappearance
from the people, and the potential of God’s transcendence “when He had finished
speaking with him.” And so, the creation of the second luhot and all
that then ensued were meant to restore those lost feelings of communion
and conversation. In a world that increasingly reverts to a reality akin
to the first luhot, perhaps it is time to contemplate the enduring
lesson of the second tablets and restore presence and dialogue to
our lives.
[1] Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, The
Particulars of Rapture: Reflections on Exodus (New York, NY, 2001), pg.
399.
[2] Eruvin 54a.
[3] Commentary of Ibn Ezra (ha-kassar)
to Shemot 34:1, s.v. pesol.
[4] R. Naftali Sevi Yehudah
Berlin, HaAmek Davar to Shemot 34:1, s.v. ve-katavti.
[5] Sherry Turkle, Alone
Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other (New
York, NY, 2011), pg. 207.
Friday, February 22, 2019
Sunday, February 17, 2019
Derekh Hashem 4.9
Listen to this morning's class on Derekh HaShem here.
Follow along with the sources here.
For further research:
1) Read our devar Torah for Parashat Yitro 2016, related to the central topic of the class, here.
2) Read the "proper" version of the story I referenced, regarding the Gr"a and birkot ha-Torah here.
3) In Source 3 we read about "חכמה יוונית," and mentioned my friend Eliyahu Krakowski's article, "How Much 'Greek' in Greek Wisdom?" Read it here.
4) In Source 4 we mentioned the opinions regarding reading Zohar without understanding. See: a) R. Yaakov M. Hillel's discussion of this matter in his Ad HaGal HaZeh, as well as his citations of b) Shivhei HaAri and c) Hida's Moreh BeEssba.
5) Read Gershom Scholem's "The Meaning of Torah in Jewish Mysticism" here. See specifically pg. 37-44 for his discussion of Ramban's commentary in Source 5.
6) Read a related article that I wrote several years ago, בביאור החילוק שבין תושב"כ לתושבע"פ ולימוד כנתינתה בסיני, here.
Parashat Tessaveh: Man-Made
Man-Made
Thoughts on Tessaveh 2019
Click here to view as PDF
The Hakhamim detected
many similarities between the construction of the Mishkan and creation
of the World. Understanding the verse “God, I love the habitation of Your House
and the place where Your glory dwells” (Tehillim 26:8) as a reference to this
connection, they pointed to several common themes between each day of creation
and the Mishkan.[1]
Indeed, the Torah
paralleled Creation to the Mishkan by using several similar words and
themes. “And God saw all that He had done, and behold, it was very good”
(Bereshit 1:31) took place as creation ended, in the way that the Mishkan’s
building drew to a close with, “And Moshe saw all the work, and behold, they
had done it – as God had commanded, so they had done” (Shemot 39:43). The Torah
then summarized creation, “The heavens and the earth and all of their host were
completed, and God completed on the seventh day His workmanship which He had
done” (Bereshit 2:1-2), much as it did with the Mishkan, “All the labor of the Mishkan,
the Tent of Meeting, was completed…and Moshe completed the workmanship” (Shemot
39:32, 40:33). And both events ended with a blessing: “God blessed the seventh
day” (Bereshit 2:3); “And Moshe blessed them” (Shemot 39:43). Commentators have
long noted these (and several other) similarities, suggesting that they hint at
a connection between Creation and the Mishkan.[2]
Beyond the
linguistic parallels between Creation of the World and the construction of the Mishkan,
however, the Torah connected the initial description of Adam and Hava in Gan
Eden to the structure and functioning of the Mishkan. Thus, for example,
both the Garden and Mishkan are oriented eastward (Bereshit 3:24, Shemot
27:16). R. Samson Raphael Hirsch furthermore noted the unique appearance of “keruvim”
as guardians of the way to the Tree of Life (Bereshit 3:24) and atop the wooden
ark which housed the figurative Tree of Life – luhot (Shemot 25:17-22).[3] Adam, as well, was tasked to “work and guard”
the Garden (Bereshit 2:15), which was identical to the levi’im’s role in
the Mishkan (Bemidbar 7:8). And the description of the menorah bears
an uncanny “tree-like” character – with seven “branches” adorned with petals,
almond blossoms and other botanical elements (Shemot 25:31-40).[4]
The Torah’s message
seems clear: construction of the Mishkan represented a recreation of the
World and a return to Gan Eden.
Taken in this
context, then, the Torah’s repeated warnings to the kohanim regarding
bodily exposure in the Mishkan and the elaborate details of their
clothing is somewhat surprising. The final verse in Parashat Yitro
warned: “And you shall not go up by steps upon My altar, that you may not
expose your nakedness upon it” (Shemot 20:23). And Moshe was later
instructed: “And make them linen breeches to cover their naked flesh,
from the hips to the thighs they shall be” (28:42). The command of dignified
attire for the kohanim is understandable. Repeated warnings about
indecent exposure, however, is more difficult to comprehend.
Envisioning the Mishkan’s
recreation of Gan Eden, this matter is further perplexing. The Torah succinctly
described the lives of Adam and Hava prior to sin and banishment: “The two of
them were naked, the human and his woman, and they were not ashamed” (Bereshit
2:25). The concepts of shameful nakedness and clothing were only conceived after
eating from the ess ha-da’at and meriting banishment from the Garden –
“And the eyes of the two were opened…and they sewed fig leaves and made
themselves loincloths” (3:7). Why, then, would the construction of a sanctuary
built to “restore life in Eden” focus on the negativity of nakedness – the very
concept that distinguished life after the Garden from that beforehand?
Perhaps the answer
to these questions lies in a better understanding of the very sin that brought
forth Adam and Hava’s discovery of their shameful nakedness – eating from ess
ha-da’at. Prior to eating from that tree, they inhabited a world that was
created for them, yet not by them. Their sole task was the
maintenance and upkeep of the Garden. But the desire to eat from the tree – to
“become as gods knowing good and evil” (Bereshit 3:6) – was their will to
create on their own.
Eating from the
Tree, then, introduced the concepts of process and procedure to
the life of mankind. The world no longer rested in wait of their immediate
utility and consumption, but rather necessitated the arduous journey toward
self-creation. Whereas Hava was informed of future birth pangs and the pain of
bearing children (3:16), Adam learned that the ground’s essence would change,
“Thorn and thistle shall it sprout for you” (3:18), bearing bread only “by the
sweat of his brow” (3:19).[5]
Adam and Hava’s
introduction to their new reality came by means of understanding their
nakedness. They now realized that full exposure would negatively bypass the
mode of process that they sought, and that nakedness would circumvent the
necessary steps to revealing the hidden. In the world of process and creation
which they had then commenced, Adam and Hava were ashamed of their nakedness,
and “they sewed fig leaves and made themselves loincloths” (3:7).
Constructing the Mishkan
as a physical space for God’s dwelling took place within mankind’s world of
self-creation. Contrary to Gan Eden, which was a place created by God,
the Mishkan was now created by man. Indeed, whereas the verb “a-s-h”
(עשה) is used seven times to describe God’s
actions in Creation, it is used over two hundred times in context of the
people’s actions in constructing the Mishkan.
It is no wonder,
then, that as God detailed the plans for building the Mishkan, he
forbade nakedness there and instructed the crafting of fine clothing. Cognizant
of the historical significance of clothing, Moshe then understood that
the various garments which the kohen would now don symbolically marked
the unique reality of a man-made sanctuary for God.
[1] Midrash Tanhuma: Pekudei
2: “On the first day [of Creation] we are told, “In the beginning, God
created the heavens and the earth” (Bererhit 1:1) and it is written, “He
spreads the heavens like a curtain (ka-yeria)” (Tehillim 104:2).
Concerning the Mishkan, what does it say? “You shall make curtains of
goat skins (yeri’ot izzim)” (Shemot 26:7). On the second day, we find,
“Let there be a firmament,” and the concept of division appears, as it is
written, “Let it divide water from water” (Bereshit 1:6); concerning the Mishkan
it is written, “And the parokhet will divide for you” (Shemot 26:33)…”
[2] See, e.g., R. Amnon Bazak’s “A
Return to the Garden of Eden”
<http://vbm-torah.org/archive/parsha72/19-72teruma.htm>.
[3] Commentary of R. Samson R.
Hirsch to Bereshit 3:24).
[4] For some recent analyses of
the many parallels between Gan Eden and the Mishkan, see, e.g., R.
Bazak’s “A Return to the Garden of Eden,” Lifsa Schachter’s “The Garden of Eden
as God’s First Sanctuary” in Jewish Bible Quarterly 41:2 (2013), pg.
73-7, and R. Shai Held’s The Heart of Torah vol. 1 (Philadelphia, PA,
2017), pg. 189-93.
[5] For a related description of
this concept, see our thoughts for Sukkot 2018, “Process.”
Friday, February 15, 2019
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Returning From a 'Medical Mission' on Shabbat
Listen to last night's class, "Returning From a 'Medical Mission' on Shabbat," here.
Follow along with the sources here.
For further research:
1) Read R. J. David Bleich's article, "Returning from Missions of Mercy on Shabbat," here.
2) Look at the source sheet on this topic (pg. 1-12) from the Olamot website, here.
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Friday, February 8, 2019
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
Sunday, February 3, 2019
Derekh HaShem 4.1-5
Listen to this morning's class on Derekh HaShem here.
Follow along with the sources here.
For further research:
1) Read our devar Torah for Parashot Matot/Masei, related to the final concept that we discussed, here.
2) Read Melila Hellner-Eshed's brief discussion of Zohar's concept of "turning darkness into light," in A River Flows From Eden, here.
Saturday, February 2, 2019
Parashat Mishpatim: Na'aseh Ve-Nishma
"Na'aseh Ve-Nishma"
Thoughts on Mishpatim 2019
Click here to view as PDF
And he
[Moshe] took the book of the covenant and read it in the hearing of the people,
and they said, “All that God has spoken we will do (na’aseh) and we will hear
(nishma).” (Shemot 24:7)
The Hakhamim
taught that Am Yisrael’s declaration of “na’aseh ve-nishma” (“we
will do and we will hear”) was a statement of ideal dedication. Defying the
instinct to first hear the commands before committing to their adherence, the
nation was then inspired to immediate action. Their ability to utter “na’aseh”
before “nishma” was, in the eyes of the Rabbis, an expression of
absolute devotion.[1]
It was, in a way, reminiscent of Avraham’s adherence to God’s first command of
“Go forth (lekh lekha)…to the land I will show you” (Bereshit 12:1), and
a forebearer of their future wanderings in the wilderness “by God’s word”
(Bemidbar 9:18). The activity in these several situations preceded the full
knowledge of the particulars.
The worthiness of
this approach is difficult to understand, however, as it seemingly debases each
of the respective connections to God. In contrast to the strength of a
commitment that is grounded in understanding, an uninformed dedication appears
naïve or shallow, at best. What, then, was the “greatness” of na’aseh
ve-nishma?
Aristotle wrote
that the highest pursuit of intellect was theoria, or thought which is
“useless,” as it serves no higher aim other than itself. He wrote: “To seek
from all knowledge a result other than itself and to demand that knowledge must
be useful is the act of one completely ignorant of the distance that from the
start separates things good from things necessary.”[2]
Whereas “necessary” knowledge is the thought and ideas that inspire another outcome,
“good” knowledge stands independent of consequence.
As the philosopher
Hannah Arendt probed the deficiencies of modern man, she noticed “his trust in
the all-comprehensive range of the means-end category,” in his belief that
“every issue can be solved and every human motivation reduced to the principle
of utility.”[3]
She realized, in other words, that our thoughts and actions ignore the “good”
and focus instead only on the “necessary.”
Indeed, we spend
most of our lives in anticipation of “the next stage” and absent from the
precious present. As neuroscientist Robert Sapolsky sarcastically commented:
“We study hard in high school to get admitted to a top college to get into grad
school to get a good job to get into the nursing home of our choice.”[4]
Our lives – from the time we grow out of playing games until the day we retire
– are burdened by the constant strain of evaluating our actions by the outcomes
they produce.
Hannah Arendt
wrote: “Action reveals itself fully only to the storyteller, that is to the
backward glance of the historian, who indeed always knows better what it was
all about than the participants.”[5]
And a life steadfastly committed to a connection with God focuses not on a
particular “conclusion” to our individual “stories,” but on the experience of
that connection itself.
Every moment along
Avraham’s journey to that “place of God’s choosing” was imbued with the
intrinsic meaning of connection to God. Instead of the “final destination”
inspiring his every step, Avraham was driven by the independent meaning of each
step. And Am Yisrael’s confident declaration of na’aseh ve-nishma
was likewise a commitment to appreciating a connection to God through action. Although
they would only perceive the broader meaning of their deeds in hindsight – nishma,
they were nonetheless moved by the independent experience of connecting to God
through action – na’aseh.
Na’aseh
ve-nishma must
remain an ambition for us on our own journeys through life. It is the call
to divert our attention from the potential “outcomes” of a life of Torah and
focus instead on the experience itself.
[1] See, e.g., Shabbat 88a.
[2] Aristotle, Aristotle’s
Protrepticus, sec. B41. Cited by Jennifer Summit and Blakey Vermeule, in Action
Versus Contemplation: Why an Ancient Debate Still Matters (Chicago, IL,
2018), pg. 66.
[3] Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition 2nd
ed. (Chicago, IL, 1998), pg. 305.
[4] Robert Sapolsky, “This Is Your Brain on
Metaphors,” New York Times “Opinionator” blog, Nov. 14,2010.
<https://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/11/14/this-is-your-brain-on-metaphors/>
[5] Arendt, pg. 192.
Friday, February 1, 2019
Entering a Church
Listen to this morning's class, "Entering a Church," here.
Follow along with the sources here.
For further research:
1) Read R. Shlomo Brody's brief summary of this topic in his A Guide to the Complex:Contemporary Halakhic Debates, here.
2) Read R. J. David Bleich's analysis here.
3) View the source sheet on this topic from the Olamot website here.
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