Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Three Midrashim on Psalm 4


1 לַמְנַצֵּחַ בִּנְגִינוֹת מִזְמוֹר לְדָוִד׃

2 בְּקָרְאִי עֲנֵנִי אֱלֹהֵי צִדְקִי בַּצָּר הִרְחַבְתָּ לִּי חָנֵּנִי וּשְׁמַע תְּפִלָּתִי׃
3 בְּנֵי אִישׁ עַד־מֶה כְבוֹדִי לִכְלִמָּה תֶּאֱהָבוּן רִיק תְּבַקְשׁוּ כָזָב סֶלָה׃
4 וּדְעוּ כִּי־הִפְלָה יְהוָה חָסִיד לוֹ יְהוָה יִשְׁמַע בְּקָרְאִי אֵלָיו׃
5 רִגְזוּ וְאַל־תֶּחֱטָאוּ אִמְרוּ בִלְבַבְכֶם עַל־מִשְׁכַּבְכֶם וְדֹמּוּ סֶלָה׃
6 זִבְחוּ זִבְחֵי־צֶדֶק וּבִטְחוּ אֶל־יְהוָה׃
7 רַבִּים אֹמְרִים מִי־יַרְאֵנוּ־טוֹב נְסָה עָלֵינוּ אוֹר פָּנֶיךָ יְהוָה׃
8 נָתַתָּה שִׂמְחָה בְלִבִּי מֵעֵת דְּגָנָם וְתִירוֹשָׁם רָבּוּ׃
9 בְּשָׁלוֹם יַחְדָּו אֶשְׁכְּבָה וְאִישָׁן כִּי־אַתָּה יְהוָה לְבָדָד לָבֶטַח תּוֹשִׁיבֵנִי׃

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How did our Sages look at Psalms? What caught their eyes? What message were they trying to convey through their interpretation? The question I'm asking is, after analyzing the poetry based often on what we see, I would like to know how it was seen thousands of years ago, by Rabbi Akiva, Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai, Rabbi Joshua ben Levi, and others. I would like to analyze psalm four from the perspective of different midrashic viewpoints, in order to emerge with a spectrum of midrashic insights and approaches.

Psalm 4
1 For the (menatze'ach) leader, with instrumental music. A psalm of David.
2 When I call, answer me, O God my vindicator! You freed me from distress; have mercy on me and hear my prayer.
3 You men, how long will my glory be mocked, will you love illusions, have recourse to frauds?
4 Know that the Lord singles out the faithful for Himself; the Lord will hear when I call to Him.
5 Tremble and sin no more, ponder it on your bed and sigh.
6 Offer sacrifices in righteousness and trust in the Lord.
7 Many say "Oh, for good days," lift up the light of your countenance Oh Lord.
8 You put joy in my heart when their grain and wine show increase.
9 Safe and sound, I lie down and sleep, for You alone, Oh Lord, keep me secure.

Verse 1. “La-menatze'ach”

La-menatzeach is a title whose meaning is uncertain to us. On the one hand it alludes to some kind of conductor, on the other the root comes from the Hebrew NTZCH meaning to conquer. The first midrash found in the Talmud (Pesachim 119a) is as follows:

Rav Kahana said in the name of Rav Yishmael: what is the meaning of the phrase La-menatze'ach, give praise to the One who is beaten( - conquered - won), and is [nevertheless] happy. Come and learn that the attributes of God are different than those of man. When man is beaten he is sad; not so the Lord who, when beaten, is happy, as it says, (Psalms 106:23) "He would have destroyed them (the children of Israel) had not Moses His chosen one confronted Him in the breach to avert His destructive wrath.

This is a classic midrash. By this I mean that the motivation for the author's interpretation stems from uncertainty concerning the meaning of a word. The Torah is the source of the Hebrew language. What do you do when a word in Hebrew cannot be adequately defined? We could accept that the definition of the word "La-menatze'ach" revolves around some kind of musical concept[1]. In fact, many words in Tehillim express some kind of musical content. Selah, Mizmor, Maskil, and others appear throughout David's work, hinting to us that an important dimension - the musical one - is often missing from our purview.
The author of the midrash does not relate to the musical aspect of the word, but chooses to focus on its root. Moreover, the root word of NTZCH in the Bible does not refer to conquest but rather to eternity. Somewhere along the line the meaning of the word changed from eternity to victory[2]. The author then takes his modern day meaning of NTZCH, and inserts it into the words of King David who lived over a thousand years before. In addition to this, the interpretation given is a radical one--God is beaten, which sounds blasphemous. God enjoys being beaten sounds all the more uncomfortable.
 Clearly the author of the midrash was intending to be homiletic in his interpretation, teaching us a lesson about how God's mercy transcends our ability to comprehend. But the freedom with which this interpretation is offered reflects an attitude that the authors of the midrash had, and we might conjecture that their audience understood it as well. Perhaps precisely because the readers of the midrash were attuned to the homiletic usage, they were able to use their interpretive tools so effectively.
Why is it so effective? Because only through exaggerated almost inconceivable notions can we explain a phenomenon relating to God. God is so compassionate that ... or He is as compassionate as ... What modifiers can we insert in there to emphasize an idea that transcends our humanness? The answer involves supplying some radical metaphysical reading which forces us to concede our limited faculties and search for an answer in the stars.
A second point to ponder is the inherent relationship between God and His people which is developed throughout the midrashic literature. One senses that this theological impossibility of God being overpowered only can take place when the reason for His surrender is His beloved people. Moses rises to the occasion when God is on the verge of judgement (destruction) and pleads, thereby forcing God's will. Such is the power of the righteous individuals before whom God willingly yields.

Verse 2. "When I call answer me."

In the Hebrew we are uncertain if David is asking God to answer him , or if he is telling God that "when I call You I am answered right away." One way it is a request (and a rather daring one), the other way it is a testament of praise and thanks. The midrash in Devarim Raba chapter two has David arguing his case before the Lord saying:

"When the nations of the world come before You to pray, You should not heed their requests for they are insincere. Instead, send them to their gods and they will not be answered. When the children of Israel call You, however, respond hastily and answer our prayers, as it says "when I call You, answer me Oh God my vindicator." Replies God, "by your word, I swear that even before you call I will answer you, as it says (Isaiah 65:24) "before you call I shall answer" for I have no other nation except for you ..."
Once again working with an ambiguity in the text, the author of this midrash reveals the beauty of the verse by creating a court-style discussion of David before God. Judaism often pictures God as the judge with his solicitors, the defense attorneys, etc. Here, the premise of the midrash is most powerful, and it is the dual interpretation of a prayer or a statement which allows for a dialogue to exist within the two possibilities. According to one reading, David asks for an immediate response from God, in the other reading, he declares it.
 The midrashic mind asks us to imagine the middle ground between the request and the declaration. When the children of Israel are worthy, the Lord answers their prayers even before they ask. A time will come when the connection between the people and the Lord will be so strong that the delineation between wanting something and asking from God and having Him grant it, will become blurred, and the response will come before the request.
 The courthouse motif is used to highlight the relationship between God and the Jews, but also to stress the Jews' connection to God in contrast to their surrounding neighbors, the pagans. At the time of the midrashic literature, paganism was rampant, sectarianism was on the rise and it seemed that monotheism was losing the battle. Thus, the midrash emphasizes the uniqueness of the Jewish people who call to God exclusively and who will be answered as opposed to the non-Jewish nations who call to God only to hedge their bets, since they pray to a multitude of other gods as well. Their prayers will go unheeded. In this circumstance, the midrash consoles, comforts and offers hope.

Verse 5. “Tremble and sin no more…”

 The midrash becomes legal (halacha) when a specific juridical act is learned from these words. In Talmud Berakhot 4b we find this statement:

"Rabbi Joshua ben Levi said, even though one has recited the evening prayer of keriat Shema (Mishna Berakhot 1:1) it is a mitzvah to recite it again at nighttime. Rabbi Yose said, what verse teaches this law to us? Tremble and sin no more…."

A glimpse at the wealth of midrashim on this short psalm gives us a sense of the magnitude of the rabbinic mind. Indeed, two thousand years ago, without television, without any of the distractions of modern day existence, a talmid chakham or scholar, sat all day and pondered the word of God. He became a sage due to the complete devotion of his life to the purpose of fulfilling God's will.
We have seen a selection of classic midrashim: a radical reading, a typical drama, a legal extrapolation. There are many more types which we can find on this psalm or on many other biblical verses. We might have thought that the words of the ancient rabbis are conservative and archaic compared to our modern senses and liberal interpretations; in fact, the opposite is true. The authors of the midrash were intent on catching our eyes and sparking an idea, sometimes a radical one. They did not fear a backlash, because they aimed the most effective way of communicating and elevating the word of God. Let us have the strength to follow in their footsteps.



[1] See Ibn Ezra Psalms 4:1
[2] A gradual and understandable development; Israel is eternal through continuous victories over their enemies...

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Psalm 97: Reactions...

1 יְהוָה מָלָךְ תָּגֵל הָאָרֶץ יִשְׂמְחוּ אִיִּים רַבִּים׃
2 עָנָן וַעֲרָפֶל סְבִיבָיו צֶדֶק וּמִשְׁפָּט מְכוֹן כִּסְאוֹ׃
3 אֵשׁ לְפָנָיו תֵּלֵךְ וּתְלַהֵט סָבִיב צָרָיו׃
4 הֵאִירוּ בְרָקָיו תֵּבֵל רָאֲתָה וַתָּחֵל הָאָרֶץ׃
5 הָרִים כַּדּוֹנַג נָמַסּוּ מִלִּפְנֵי יְהוָה מִלִּפְנֵי אֲדוֹן כָּל־הָאָרֶץ׃
6 הִגִּידוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם צִדְקוֹ וְרָאוּ כָל־הָעַמִּים כְּבוֹדוֹ׃
7 יֵבֹשׁוּ כָּל־עֹבְדֵי פֶסֶל הַמִּתְהַלְלִים בָּאֱלִילִים
הִשְׁתַּחֲווּ־לוֹ כָּל־אֱלֹהִים׃
8 שָׁמְעָה וַתִּשְׂמַח צִיּוֹן וַתָּגֵלְנָה בְּנוֹת יְהוּדָה
לְמַעַן מִשְׁפָּטֶיךָ יְהוָה׃
9 כִּי־אַתָּה יְהוָה עֶלְיוֹן עַל־כָּל־הָאָרֶץ
מְאֹד נַעֲלֵיתָ עַל־כָּל־אֱלֹהִים׃
10 אֹהֲבֵי יְהוָה שִׂנְאוּ־רָע
שֹׁמֵר נַפְשׁוֹת חֲסִידָיו מִיַּד רְשָׁעִים יַצִּילֵם׃
11 אוֹר זָרֻעַ לַצַּדִּיק וּלְיִשְׁרֵי־לֵב שִׂמְחָה׃
12 שִׂמְחוּ צַדִּיקִים בַּיהוָה וְהוֹדוּ לְזֵכֶר קָדְשׁוֹ׃


Psalm 97 depicts the ‘song’ alluded to by the psalmist in the previous one when he proposed for the entire land to sing to God a ‘new song’. This song begins with the words ‘Hashem melech”. It is about this phenomenon and really the reaction to this phenomenon that psalm 97 focuses.
What is our reaction to the revelation of God in the world? Do we even recognize it and feel the need to react? Or do we ignore the hand of God and continue with our lives as if nothing changed? Psalm 97 presents us with three reactions in a progression of importance yet also a progression of delayed reaction.
“Hashem melech—tagel haaretz” (God is the king, the land rejoices).
Nature is the first to react to the coronation of God as king. Humanity slumbers but nature arises and dances. The land rejoices, the islands are happy, clouds and smoke surround Him, fire shines all around Him, mountains melt and the heavens sing His righteousness.
The first five and a half verses describe an awakening to the presence of God by nature and though most of it is joyful, the land which begins with joy (tagel) concludes with fear and trembling (tachel) recognizing the contradictory emotions the presence of God evokes.

In the middle of verse 6 though a transition from the heavens to Man takes place as if to say that the heavens are nudging man to arise and realize the remarkable event of God’s presence. Man, however, is confused having been assured by his gods that they were in control of the world already. Those gods failed him at every turn but he was so invested in the business of manufacturing his own god industry, he could not step back and witness the true God appear.

The second half of the psalm focuses on man’s reaction which is slow at first, beginning with shame at having played the wrong hand for so long, but then slowly man turns away from these gods to GOD and exclaims ‘for you God are above all other gods, having risen above all the other deities’. This turning to God is clearly a positive step forward but saying that God is greater than all the other gods is still not an ideal state, after all—what other gods?

The final section though, reaches the pinnacle of God’s creation, though it seemed to have taken him the longest to arrive at the understanding that the heaven and earth had reached at the beginning. Nevertheless, their reaction is pure, focused, filled with passion for God and the fight against evil. They are the ‘lovers of God’, ‘chasidim’, ‘yishrei lev’ and ‘tzadikim’ and they call out to God and are ultimately protected by God from harm.

They are enshrined with light, joy, a great feeling of gratitude and thankfulness and happiness in the knowledge that God has appeared and all will be right in the world.

Note that these individuals have no origin, no clan, tribe or nation—simply ‘lovers of God’. This represents the universalistic song to God where the heavens and earth mountains and fields rejoice and where humanity must come to discern between truth and fake and finally where any individual who possesses the courage and conviction to love God and hate evil—they will be rewarded by God and continue to sing His praises in joy.

The universe feels God’s presence and slowly it trickles down to man and to righteous man to declare the greatness of God and rejoice in the impending holy presence of our creator.

Friday, October 3, 2014

Kol Nidrei: A Strange Beginning

We begin this holiday with a strange prayer. It concerns vows that we have illegitimately made and wish to annul. Over a thousand years ago in some of the siddurim published we find this prayer which when adorned with this hauntingly beautiful tune has become a mainstay of the Yom Kippur service in all denominations despite objections over the years.

The prayer is based on a section in the Torah, which speaks of the importance of our word—if we promise, we fulfill. But if there are special circumstances which prevent you from fulfilling this vow, you may under certain conditions, annul that vow.

We want to come to God on this day pure of blemished hearts, without unfinished business and tabula rasa (clean slate). Therefore we invoke the annulment of vows to intensely prepare ourselves…

Already at the turn of the millennium certain sects were uncomfortable with the idea that the Jewish way to begin the holiday is by revoking their previous vows. The Karaites said this was shameful and while the rabbis explained that this does not at all refer to obligations made to others but only to oneself, other rabbis called Geonim (9th and 10th centuries) tried to downplay the recitation of this prayer.

The popular reason this prayer became widespread has to do with Jews in Spain in the 14th and 15th centuries during the inquisition. Jews who lived like Christians and hid their secret Jewish beliefs suffered the guilt of their worshiping idolatry throughout the year.

Imagine living a lie, hiding your deepest secrets and only divulging them to God once a year, in a clandestine service in perilous conditions. All the lies pile up, your essence changes, you become another and only a faint spark represents the real you, the pintele yid, the pure unadulterated soul.

[I didn’t have to imagine that this week; living and working in Poland provides me with countless examples of real, modern day, ‘hidden Jews’. I participated in an interview of a remarkable man who lived this very experience. He and his family were saved by a Priest, who forged papers for them, turning them into good Aryan citizens. After the war, he managed to live a very productive life and today, at 83 years young, he is very active and was ready to spend hours with us, teaching us about his inspiring life. His Jewishness he expressed in more cultural ways and a strong connection to Israel but when I invited him for the meal before Yom Kippur and Kol Nidrei he said he is coming!]

Perhaps, though, this can be seen as a metaphor of our own ‘hidden lives’, the pure soul within each of us that we often hide to the outside world. Throughout our year we hide or cover up our pure soul, which is struggling to emerge. We serve our bodies, our desires and our physical needs to the expense of our spirits. In effect, we come to the holiest day with an unclean slate, sins un-repented for, character traits stained. We confess that our word, which we promised ourselves to fulfill last Yom Kippur has been violated.

For these and many more reasons we reject the protests against removing this prayer and begin our holiest of days with a chant of Kol Nidrei--quietly, humbly, but then louder and louder until we shout out to God and to ourselves that this year we will truly find our hidden souls, our pure spirits.

I have been very busy over the past month teaching Torah in Poland to many different groups. Coming off of the highly successful Torah lectures during the Jewish Festival I embarked on a year-long presentation called "The 24 Books of Avi", each class covering the major themes of one book of Tanach. Last class over 50 people attended!



As my Polish improves (thanks to my wonderful teacher Marlgozata Pytel) I am able to spend more time with the seniors conversing in their language and teaching Torah on their level.



Before each holiday we have a general lecture about the themes in the upcoming festival. My Rosh Hashana lecture titled "will the real Rosh Hashana please stand up!", was received by around 45 people at the JCC.



I am also invited to lecture on behalf of the Chief Rabbi in many locations in Lower Poland (Małopolska). Last week I was invited to Nowy Sacz, to lecture on the High Holidays. The thirst of the Nowy Sacz community (Not Jewish) was remarkable. I blew the shofar and explained to them about some of the practices.



Finally, I had a chance to meet with some fascinating people including Dr. Viktor Bodnar and hear his story of heroism, courage and survival.



These and other people inspire us to realize that the glorious story of the Jewish people marches on despite trials and tribulations, ultimately delivering a message of promise and hope.

Gmar chatima tova.

Friday, February 21, 2014

The Time/Space Fusion



What’s the connection between the Mishkan and Shabbat? What is the relationship between the Synagogue and the days set aside to come and pray in the Synagogue? This question comes to the fore quite shockingly in this week’s parsha. The Parsha is clearly about one theme—the building of the Mishkan. Each verse focuses on some aspect of the preparation and/or the implementation of the construction of the Mishkan.

It is therefore odd to see one verse which stands out starkly to the rest of the parsha, and at the beginning of the parsha no less.

“And Moses assembled the entire congregation and said to them, these are the things that God has commanded you to do. Six days work shall be done but on the seventh you shall have a day of holiness, a Shabbat for God, anyone who works will die. Do not light a fire on the Shabbat day. And Moses spoke to the entire congregation saying this is what God has commanded you to do. Take a voluntary offering for God, everyone with a generous heart should bring it, the offering for God, gold silver and copper… All the skilled of heart should come and make everything God commanded: the sanctuary, its tent, and its cover; its clasps, and its boards; its bars, pillars, and bases. (Translation by Rabbi Y. Henkin)”

As I said, the rest of the parsha details the laws concerning the construction of the Mishkan, and yet the initial statement from God pertains to keeping the Shabbat, why?

The Talmud (Yevamot 6b) learns a fundamental principle from the fact that Shabbat is presented first. It comes to teach us that though the building of the Mishkan is paramount, it does not preclude the observance of Shabbat. Indeed, no work on the Mishkan took place on Shabbat. Moreover, the definition of ‘melacha’ and the delineation of 39 categories of ‘melacha’ all relate to the ‘melacha’ used in order to build the Miskhan—sewing, writing, tying, building, tracing, erasing, extinguishing, etc.

Clearly the connection between melacha and the Tabernacle stems from these verses. However, is this the only reason behind the almost intrusive Shabbat verses in a Temple parsha? Surely the Torah could have positioned the verses about the significance of Shabbat somewhere else in the parsha other than front and center!

Let us recall the pitfalls involved in building a Temple whereby God would dwell. There are two concerns: if you wanted to find God, He would be in the (confined to the) Temple. One might walk away with the erroneous perception that God is found in Temple, and hence engage in a split-personality Judaism. When in the Temple, we cover our heads, pray, don’t gossip, are respectful of others, have faith in God, but when we leave at the end of service, we leave the practices behind with the head coverings.

Comes along the Torah to teach us that first and foremost today is Shabbat. And it is Shabbat from Friday evening at sunset, until Saturday night when the stars come out. It is Shabbat at shul, at our homes, on the roads, in the air, in our kishkas.

Shabbat is not about a place but a time; we do not look for it somewhere, we feel it every week. God commands Shabbat before Adam, before the Ten Commandments, and before the Mishkan. On Shabbat we are not forced to go and find God, he is with us when we light Friday night candles, until the Havdalah candle.

There is a question though. What happens when Shabbat is over? When the time is up? Is our Godly experience over too? The answer is, for this we have the Temple. It is a physical place, it is always there, it is tangible. The Mishkan complements the Shabbat, Shabbat complements the Mishkan. The two together, the time in Judaism and the space provide for us the necessary ingredients in seeing God in our everyday lives.

We Jews recognize the religious value of time and space. Of those special days in our Jewish calendar as well as our Shuls, Schools, Mikvahs, Jewish Homes, and all the other places where our Jewishness can radiate.

Let us hope that we never forget the message that Shabbat teaches the Mishkan in our Parsha. Let us always cherish those holy times and those sanctified places.

Friday, January 10, 2014

One Moment--אז




Triumphantly marching out of Egypt, the children of Israel set their eyes on a new future, as they follow their leader, Moses, into the desert. The drama of פרשת בשלח builds up like a thriller, with פרעה, still suffering from his loss, mounting his chariot to chase his escaped slaves. בני ישראל, looking ahead, see only a blue sea in the distance; turning around, though, they witness the approaching Egyptian army. Panic pervades the camp. Screaming to משה and God at the same time, they ask for a sign not unlike the one they had seen in מצרים, and suddenly the sea splits before them. As the stream of Israelites pass through to safety, they turn around once again, but this time to enjoy their enemy drowning in the Sea "סוס ורוכבו רמה בים".

As בני ישראל finally breathe the new air of a free people, they automatically begin to sing a song of praise to their savior; the תורה, though, chooses a strange word to introduce this שירה - "ישיר משה 'אז' ". 'Then', Moses and the children of Israel sang. What is this אז? Why was this word chosen as a prelude to the song, when the Torah has many common grammatical openings for such a passage: וישר משה, 'And he sang' or בעת ההיא ישיר משה...'At that time...', why אז?

The Midrash, sensitive to the choice of words, offers us some insight, although, in a perplexing manner:
"אמר רבי עקיבא, בשעה שאמרו ישראל אז ישיר, לבש הקב"ה חלוק של תפארת שהיו חקוקין עליו כל אז שבתורה: אז תשמח בתולה, אז ידלג כאיל פסח, וכו. וכיון שחטאו חזר וקרעו שנאמרבצע אמרתו. ועתיד הקב"ה להחזירו שנאמר אז ימלא שחוק פינו.
" At the time when Israel sang in praise, God adorned himself in a cloak embedded in it all the אז's in the Torah. When they sinned, He ripped it up. However, in the future, He will return to wear it once again."

What is the meaning of this strange metaphor? Why would the word אז embody the relationship between עם ישראל and `ה? In order to decipher the meaning of the Midrash we must analyze the true meaning of אז. In reality an אז is a moment in time. "Then", at that second, an incident occurred. What incident? That depends on the person, or, in our case, בני ישראל. Rabbi Joseph Baumol once explained that our lives are really made up of a few momentous occasions, a few אז's. The difference between a simpleton and a great man lies only in the number of great moments he encounters, or creates. The simpleton at the end of his life will look back to those few incidents where he shined; his marriage, children, possibly a great business deal, but all in all, not much in which to revel. An איש גדול on the other hand will be able to magically adorn his past years with beautiful אז's.

The analogy applies in the religious realm as well as the worldly. The true difference between the תפלה of an average Jew and that of a pious one once again depends on the אז. In an average שמונה עשרה, with its nineteen blessings, and supplications, a person, if lucky, will have one moment where he feels he is speaking to Hashem. So sad is our state that the poskim maintained one should not repeat his תפלה if it was said without proper כוונה. The pious one, though, from the initial request of שפתי תפתח`ה to the closing praise עושה שלום במרומיו, is in a constant dialogue with his creator, raising himself to unlimited heights. This then is the power of the אז, the capitalization of your most sacred moments.

Understanding anew this concept of אז, we can fully appreciate the greatness of the Israelites after קריעת ים סוף. When the Midrash exclaimed "At the time whenבני ישראל sang songs of praise to God, they were equal to Moses, and Moses was equal to them," it meant to say that at that moment, one of the greatest אז's in their lives, they had the ability to turn toward their redeemer and praise Him . That indeed warranted the label of "שקול כמשה רבינו", equal to Moses their leader.

If we return to our initial Midrash , the words of חז"ל radiate the profound event. That crucial moment when the children of Israel witnessed the demise of the Egyptian army, a natural reaction would be to celebrate, dance, and embrace one another. But without hesitation they turned to `ה and sang a beautiful song. הקב"ה could do nothing but enwrap Himself in all of the great moments, forming a cloak which would adorn Him day and night. Unfortunately, with the subsequent sinning of בני ישראל, the cloak ripped up severing the unique bond between Himself and His people.

The Midrash continues with one last message; " כל פרקמטיא של משה רבינו לא היתה אלא באז. הצלת נפשו..., קנטורו..., אף הפרשת ערים באז- אז יבדיל משה שלש ערים." In contradistinction to Israel, Moses maintained the spiritual level of "אז" throughout his life. Even the most mundane act as setting up ערי מקלט, was accomplished as an `עבד ה. Moses lived this life with such intensity and devotion that he was included in Rambam's typology as one of the four (himself and the Avot) 'unattainables'.

When we look towards the unreachable goal of Moses, or even attaining the level בני ישראל achieved, we often become depressed. The final line in the Midrash, though, encourages us not to despair. In the future `ה will redeem us, and once again adorn his cloak of many אז's leading His people to the ultimate ."אז ימלא שחוק פינו ולשוננו רנה"--גאולה

אז




Triumphantly marching out of Egypt, the children of Israel set their eyes on a new future, as they follow their leader, Moses, into the desert. The drama of פרשת בשלח builds up like a thriller, with פרעה, still suffering from his loss, mounting his chariot to chase his escaped slaves. בני ישראל, looking ahead, see only a blue sea in the distance; turning around, though, they witness the approaching Egyptian army. Panic pervades the camp. Screaming to משה and God at the same time, they ask for a sign not unlike the one they had seen in מצרים, and suddenly the sea splits before them. As the stream of Israelites pass through to safety, they turn around once again, but this time to enjoy their enemy drowning in the Sea "סוס ורוכבו רמה בים".

As בני ישראל finally breathe the new air of a free people, they automatically begin to sing a song of praise to their savior; the תורה, though, chooses a strange word to introduce this שירה - "ישיר משה 'אז' ". 'Then', Moses and the children of Israel sang. What is this אז? Why was this word chosen as a prelude to the song, when the Torah has many common grammatical openings for such a passage: וישר משה, 'And he sang' or בעת ההיא ישיר משה...'At that time...', why אז?

The Midrash, sensitive to the choice of words, offers us some insight, although, in a perplexing manner:
"אמר רבי עקיבא, בשעה שאמרו ישראל אז ישיר, לבש הקב"ה חלוק של תפארת שהיו חקוקין עליו כל אז שבתורה: אז תשמח בתולה, אז ידלג כאיל פסח, וכו. וכיון שחטאו חזר וקרעו שנאמרבצע אמרתו. ועתיד הקב"ה להחזירו שנאמר אז ימלא שחוק פינו.
" At the time when Israel sang in praise, God adorned himself in a cloak embedded in it all the אז's in the Torah. When they sinned, He ripped it up. However, in the future, He will return to wear it once again."

What is the meaning of this strange metaphor? Why would the word אז embody the relationship between עם ישראל and `ה? In order to decipher the meaning of the Midrash we must analyze the true meaning of אז. In reality an אז is a moment in time. "Then", at that second, an incident occurred. What incident? That depends on the person, or, in our case, בני ישראל. Rabbi Joseph Baumol once explained that our lives are really made up of a few momentous occasions, a few אז's. The difference between a simpleton and a great man lies only in the number of great moments he encounters, or creates. The simpleton at the end of his life will look back to those few incidents where he shined; his marriage, children, possibly a great business deal, but all in all, not much in which to revel. An איש גדול on the other hand will be able to magically adorn his past years with beautiful אז's.

The analogy applies in the religious realm as well as the worldly. The true difference between the תפלה of an average Jew and that of a pious one once again depends on the אז. In an average שמונה עשרה, with its nineteen blessings, and supplications, a person, if lucky, will have one moment where he feels he is speaking to Hashem. So sad is our state that the poskim maintained one should not repeat his תפלה if it was said without proper כוונה. The pious one, though, from the initial request of שפתי תפתח`ה to the closing praise עושה שלום במרומיו, is in a constant dialogue with his creator, raising himself to unlimited heights. This then is the power of the אז, the capitalization of your most sacred moments.

Understanding anew this concept of אז, we can fully appreciate the greatness of the Israelites after קריעת ים סוף. When the Midrash exclaimed "At the time whenבני ישראל sang songs of praise to God, they were equal to Moses, and Moses was equal to them," it meant to say that at that moment, one of the greatest אז's in their lives, they had the ability to turn toward their redeemer and praise Him . That indeed warranted the label of "שקול כמשה רבינו", equal to Moses their leader.

If we return to our initial Midrash , the words of חז"ל radiate the profound event. That crucial moment when the children of Israel witnessed the demise of the Egyptian army, a natural reaction would be to celebrate, dance, and embrace one another. But without hesitation they turned to `ה and sang a beautiful song. הקב"ה could do nothing but enwrap Himself in all of the great moments, forming a cloak which would adorn Him day and night. Unfortunately, with the subsequent sinning of בני ישראל, the cloak ripped up severing the unique bond between Himself and His people.

The Midrash continues with one last message; " כל פרקמטיא של משה רבינו לא היתה אלא באז. הצלת נפשו..., קנטורו..., אף הפרשת ערים באז- אז יבדיל משה שלש ערים." In contradistinction to Israel, Moses maintained the spiritual level of "אז" throughout his life. Even the most mundane act as setting up ערי מקלט, was accomplished as an `עבד ה. Moses lived this life with such intensity and devotion that he was included in Rambam's typology as one of the four (himself and the Avot) 'unattainables'.

When we look towards the unreachable goal of Moses, or even attaining the level בני ישראל achieved, we often become depressed. The final line in the Midrash, though, encourages us not to despair. In the future `ה will redeem us, and once again adorn his cloak of many אז's leading His people to the ultimate ."אז ימלא שחוק פינו ולשוננו רנה"--גאולה


Friday, October 18, 2013

Parshat Vayera: A View from Without and Within

This Parsha is very applicable to Jews in Poland. It contains within it destruction, ultimate sacrifice, loneliness of restarting, but also kindness, hospitality and even revelation. Destruction of a population comes with no divine warning (as opposed to the story of Noach and Jonah). Destruction comes not without a philosophical fight as Abraham uses very strong words to defend mankind (something Noah and Jonah did not do!) חלילה לך מעשות דבר כזה—it is ‘sacrilegious’ of You to do something like this…God here does not condemn Abraham for his choice of words but enters into dialogue.

Abraham as an outsider fighting for humanity despite its flaws brings with it strength and weakness. On the one hand he has no selfish interest; he is not looking out for his nephew, his family, or anyone which will help him. He simply acts based on justice! השופט כל הארץ לא יעשה משפט will the judge of all lands not mete judgment? He, from afar, can call out God for destroying righteous with evil להמית צדיק עם רשע to kill righteous with evil. In this way Abraham conducts a negotiation with God on behalf of the righteous of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Here is where the ‘outsider’ perspective limits Abraham’s ability to finish the job. He stops at ten righteous men. Less than that it is hard for Abraham to justify that judgment is being perverted. Yet, one who lives in the city, one who struggles and experiences the complexity of life in a city where evil pervades, he would fight until the last one! The fact that the angels come to Lot to remove him from the city teaches us that even one ‘righteous’ soul is worthy of salvation. An ‘insider’ fights for his home, his family, his history, his community without giving up! He knows exactly what is transpiring and he is aware of the complexity of a situation.

This week I visited the Schindler factory Museum. For anyone who saw the movie ‘Schindler’s List’ they might expect the museum to be about one man and his heroic story of saving over 1000 Jews from the inferno of the holocaust. Actually the Schindler part is perhaps 20% of the exhibition which is more about the history of Krakow prewar and during the occupation of the Nazis up until the invasion of the Red Army. Jews and Poles were subjugated, abused and killed.
Clearly the singling out of Jews for ghetto and eventually for murder makes our story uniquely horrifying and singular; yet for Krakow it is part of a bigger story of the ugliness of war, the oppression of a ruthless enemy, and the forcible constriction of rights, terrorizing of innocent citizens, turning them very inwards and insulated. At the end of the exhibit there is a room which defines the polarity and complexity of the Polish experience in Krakow. There were two books side by side with names of Non Jewish Poles living in Krakow during the war. One book was filled with 3000 names of Righteous Gentiles who risked their lives to save their own humanity, to save their neighbors and friends. Alongside that book is another one with the title ‘hatred’. It tells of a list of 4000 names of collaborating Poles who helped plunder Jews, abuse them even kill them.

I looked at these two lists and shook my head. For most of the Jews the narrative is straightforward—terror, dehumanization, concentration in ghettos, liquidation. For Poles it is more complex filled with some good, some evil, much chaos, fright, and the lesson learned of ‘keep your head down and perhaps you will be okay’.

Just as Schindler himself was a controversial figure and a reluctant savior, Poles themselves were embroiled in a complex web of selfishness, fear, and some with a desire to do the right thing. I emerged recognizing that my views as an ‘outsider’ from the US or Israel were quite different from how it appears to me here in Krakow. Krakow was an example of anywhere in Poland undergoing a terrible destruction and dealing with it in a complex and muddled way. And just as the war concluded another regime took over preventing these individuals from considering what just transpired.

Abraham and Lot both saw the evil of Sodom and Gomorrah. One from the outside who fought for the salvation of a city; one from the inside who lived through the complexity of this city and somehow managed to just survive though not un-singed, both are presented in our parsha dealing with imminent destruction of a world and being forced to reckon with the consequences of that horrible event.