What Does Judaism Think

A colleague of mine, Cantor Ira Rohde of New York, contrasts The Song at the Sea with Haazinu. The former is an expression of joy, meant to be sung loudly to the whole world. The latter is meant to be an internal song, as Moses is commanded to teach it to the Israelites and "put it into their mouths." In other words, this song goes inward, not outward. It doesn't convert its Sabbath to a Sabbath of Song. It is memorized, and placed into the heart.

Even so, where is the happiness? Does it not need to be happy?

Maybe it doesn't, or maybe the last verse, which prophecies the end of the exile and how "The land shall atone for its people," is enough happiness to justify its designation as a song. Perhaps. Maybe we can look further.

Rabbi Levy Yitschak of Berditchev claims that the entire song has an undertone of happiness to it, perhaps a deeper happiness than even The Song of the Sea. He quotes the Talmud saying that the purpose of exile was for the Jewish nation to attract converts. He continues to explain that those converts were the sparks of holiness among the nations which gave them the merit to contest Israel.

Once those sparks leave the nations and cleave to Israel, the nations have depleted their holiness and will cease. That is the meaning of the phrase, "And he taught it to the Israelites until their completion." The completion referred to is that of the nations. Thus, the exile itself prepares the ultimate redemption. That is happy.

The Torah, however, gives other reasons for exile. Specifically, it is punishment for sins of idolatry, to a certain extent sexual licentiousness, and the violation of the Sabbatical Year. So what does the Talmud mean when it says that exile is for Jews to attract converts? How can the Talmud contradict clear verses in the Torah?

These three sins, idolatry, the sabbatical year and sexual immorality all have one thing in common: they represent a subordination to the physical world, rather than to God, who is above the physical creation. Sexual immorality is an addiction to physical pleasures. It is devoting one's actions to material things. The sabbatical year represents a recognition of God's dominion over the land, by extension over physical possessions. One who violates that has put their material possessions over God's dominion. Idolatry, at its core, represents obedience to the forces of nature. The pagan gods are gods of nature, of the sun, of the River Nile, of fire and water, and so forth.

Another strange reading that we do is the book of Ecclesiastes, a fairly depressing work about the futility of pursuing material things. Why is this strange? Because we read it during the holiday of Sukkot, a holiday called "the time of our rejoicing." Why read such a depressing book?

Because it is not really depressing. It is liberating. Once we learn that true happiness and human fulfillment lie in a Godly life of spirituality, we can feel that true happiness.

I think the same thing is implicit in Haazinu. When the Jews go into exile, they live among the nations that are unburdened by the Torah and its laws. A Jew who looks at all of the restrictions that his religion places upon him may feel jealousy towards his Gentile neighbors. They can indulge freely in physical pleasures. The Canaanite nations created religions that sanctified orgies. They can dedicate their deeds to physical pleasure, and dedicate their property to material desires. Jews might be jealous.

And then, something incredible happens. Converts to Judaism arise. Jews do not proselytize, and yet there are Gentiles who either join the Jewish religion, or adopt many Jewish ethics and practices. Indeed, many evangelicals subscribe to the exact Torah values of spirituality and the subjugation of materialism to it that we have talked about.

A Jew may find himself in Los Angeles, for example, where he sees the palaces of the rich and famous. And then he finds out that that rich and famous person is studying Kabbalah. He looks at a billionaire like Donald Trump, and then he finds out that Trump's daughter has converted to Judaism and leads an observant lifestyle. And the Jews says to himself, "perhaps this materialism thing isn't enough, perhaps I have everything a human needs in my own traditions!"

I believe Rabbi Levy Yitschak is telling us something deeply significant. He is telling us that Haazinu is showing us the true power and joy of the Torah lifestyle. Wherever the Jews go, their presence awakens the sparks of spirituality among the nations they live. They raise up those sparks, and the ones who reach highest convert. It leaves the pagan ideology to wither and die, "until their completion." The exile represents the victory of Torah over all other ideologies.

That is a truly happy message. That's why it's a song, because the rebuke of the section implies the wonderful treasure that we have. "Blessed are you, oh Lord our God, who has chosen us from amongst the nations and gave us His Torah." Just as Ecclesiastes is a truly happy book, because it shows us that true happiness is not in material things, so too is this chapter.

As the children of Israel prepared to enter the holy land, they are commanded to go to the two mountains near Schechem, Mount Gerizim and Mount Eval. There, they are too divided into two by tribes, with half of the tribes ascending Mount Gerizim, and the other half climbing up Mount Eval. The former are then to bless the people of Israel, and the latter are to issue the admonitions/curses. These include such things as, "Cursed is the man who worships idols in secret..." Other things being cursed include certain incestuous relationships.

The Torah only enumerates the admonitions, and does not list the blessings. This is strange. But what is more strange is the entire ceremony. Moses repeatedly warns the people of the consequences of their sinning, so why is this dramatic ceremony on the two mountains necessary? And why are only certain behaviors cursed, while others, such as murder, adultery, and the like, are not mentioned? What is the criteria?

The commentary Ohr Hachaim perceives a common thread among the things listed: they are done away from the eyes of the public. These are private sins, which the sinner does not wish anyone not directly involved (such as the relative with whom the incestuous relationship is taking place) to know about. Nonetheless, says the commentary, all of Israel are responsible for one another, and even private sins impact the nation.

Now we can understand why the tribes of Israel must be the ones to deliver these blessings and curses. If the sins have been public ones, the justice system would've dealt with them. Because they are private, and the perpetrators are not caught, the communal responsibility that the Jewish people have would kick in and the entire nation could be held responsible. Thus, it is the people themselves who must publicly warn and admonish the would-be sinners that their actions have a deep impact on the entire people of Israel.

Now, on the surface, one could say that a society where sinners only do so in private is actually in good shape. There is no anarchy, there is no public lawlessness. Such a society has seemingly fulfilled the basic commandment to have a system of laws and justice. Individuals recognize that and take care not to be caught. And, yet, the Torah gives us a resounding "no." Such a society is not the ideal, and it is not sufficient to achieve that level. We must build a society where people do not sin even in private. We must strive for a world where people fear the Lord, not just the policemen.

To achieve that, education is critical. Many, if not most, people never progressed beyond the basic level of moral development where fear of punishment is the prime motivator. In other words, many people never grow past childhood, where bad behavior is avoided in order to avoid the spanking. Those who do, reach a level where good behavior is its own reward. They reached the stage where they can be tested and withstand the test, just as Joseph did with Potiphar's wife. At that moment of temptation, say the sages of the Talmud, Joseph saw the vision of his father's face. He remembered his mission, and he remembered the education that his father had given him. He stopped cold and did not sin.

Jacob's education of Joseph is the paradigm for the society we wish to build. A place where all people are inherently moral is a wonderful place to live.

I wish to go a little further in understanding this concept of mutual responsibility. It is a difficult concept, because it seems unfair. If someone in my people commits a private sin, why should I be responsible?

The Hebrew term is roughly translated as guarantor. In practical terms, it means that we are interchangeable. If Jack lends money to John, and John has Jeff become his guarantor, Jack can reclaim the money directly from Jeff if John is unable to pay. Jeff, therefore, takes John's place in the transaction.

Translating this into society, it means that we must build a society based on a deep love of our fellow beings. Jeff would only be a guarantor for John if he had a caring relationship with him. He must wish to help him. So, too, we must wish to help each other. If someone sins, even privately, it may indicate that we have not reached out strongly enough. We have not touched them with the love of the right, but only with the fear of the law. That is not sufficient.

While this may not seem to be an easy level to reach, there may be a very simple but immensely powerful way to do it. I will summarize it in three words: keep it positive. When someone misbehaves, the natural tendency is to be critical of them. Let's face it, we get a perverse pleasure out of complaining and condemning. But what does that accomplish? It just pushes the other person in further down, and makes those within earshot disdain them even more.

Now, imagine if we try to the other way. Imagine if we reached out to the sinner, showed them acceptance, and strove to teach them a better way. Imagine if we felt sadness when someone sins and is caught, not pride and mirth. While it might not change their behavior now, it leaves the path open for them to return later. That is what a spiritual guarantor would do. Such a person cares deeply about his or her fellow, and feels sadness, not joy, if the fellow stumbles.

For this reason, it is the people themselves need to pronounce the blessings and the curses. Where are the blessings? There are too many of them to pronounce at that ceremony on the mountains. That is because the blessings are the daily encouragement, the ongoing acts of kindness, the persistent caring of one human being to another. All of those little deeds, performed millions and millions of times, are the true blessings of a blessed people. The curses, on the other hand, are a formal ceremony to publicly put on notice all would-be sinners. But in private, one-on-one, it is the blessings that must predominate.

Jethro wanted to go home. His son-in-law, Moses, did not want him to leave. Jethro had come to the Israelites immediately prior to their receiving the Torah, and had witnessed the revelation. Now he wished to return to his land, the land of Midian, and this made Moses concerned. "Please do not leave us," he said, "for you have known our encampment in the desert, and you will be for us [like] eyes."

The commentators are divided on the question of whether Jethro agreed with Moses and stayed with the Israelites or returned to his land. There are also a number of interpretations as to why he Moses wanted him to remain. The Torah gives great emphasis to this dialogue, so it must be of tremendous significance for the future of the Jewish people. What is that significance?

The most literal reading implies that Jethro would be helpful as a guide in the desert. I have trouble accepting this, as the Israelites were led by God sending a pillar of cloud to direct them through the desert. There must be more to it than that.

The Kli Yakar suggests that the phrase, "encampments," implies more than geographical locations. Every place where the Israelites encamped, they struggled with God. They misbehaved, they complained, they staged minor rebellions. Jethro had proven his worth earlier by urging Moses to revamp the judicial system of the Israelites. He proposed a system of smaller and larger courts, so that no Israelite was too far from justice.

Moses saw that Jethro had unique insight into the social fabric of the children of Israel, and that he might have the key to preventing his episodes of misbehaviors and minor rebellions. "You shall be for us [like] eyes," means you will guide us to be more faithful to our God. The Kli Yakar implies that Jethro remained with the Israelites, agreeing with Moses. The observation I have on that is that it seems to not have worked. Immediately after this section in the book of Numbers, the rebellions begin in earnest, culminating with the sin of the spies and with Korach. It would be easier to say that Jethro left, and that's why everything fell apart.

Perhaps, according to this interpretation, the lesson is that even though the plan was implemented, it failed. Often, we plan everything as best we can to succeed, but success does not come. The big question is, what does one do after the disaster? Give up? Try the plan again? Try a new plan? There is no one proper answer, although I am sure the giving up is the wrong one.

The Oznaim Latorah follows the Seforno who claims that Moses's intention was actually directed outwards, towards the rest of the world. Jethro was a great theologian, who had explored all the other religions before arriving at Judaism. Indeed, he converted. Moses was concerned, however, that should he leave the Israelites, the Gentile world would take that as a sign that he was also rejecting the Israelites Faith. This would constitute a great desecration of God's Name.

Jethro responded to Moses by saying that he intended to convert his people to the Jewish faith, and that's why he wanted to return unto them. This, however, did not alleviate Moses's concerned, but Jethro had a solution for it. His children would remain with Israel, thus no one would doubt that Jethro had indeed embraced the God of Israel and his Torah. He, himself, would then be free to travel amongst the nations of the world and share the Divine message with them. A worthy compromise.

These two interpretations have Moses looking inward and outward, respectively. He looked inward by seeing Jethro as a positive influence on the children of Israel, and he looked outward by seeing Jethro as a role model for the nations of the world. My feeling is that Jethro chose not to remain, but did leave his children with the Israelites, as the Seforno writes. Why, though, did Moses not think of this compromise? Did he not feel that it was important for a Jethro to reach out to humanity?

I am sure he did, but I believe he also was greatly afraid of the potential disintegration of the Jewish people. The Kli Yakar's concern was a valid one. How would Jethro ensure that they improved? By being there and being Jethro. When Moses says, "you shall be for us [like] eyes," I believe he is saying something very powerful. The eyes he refers to are not Jethro's, but the people of Israel's. The literal translation would be then, "You shall be for us, for our eyes [to look upon]." The Israelites will look to you, and realize that this great theologian is watching them. That will make them behave better. If, indeed, Jethro left, Moses's plan was never implemented and never tested. If he remained, then it failed, as we mentioned before.

The Seforno's approach makes another powerful point. I believe that Moses was saying to Jethro that he can still accomplish this goal of converting his people, and, at the same time, make the Israelites better. How?

The answer is Purpose. As long as a person has a Purpose in life, a goal that inspires them, all other things become secondary. I rarely feel hungry on Yom Kippur, because I'm so focused on the prayers and rituals of the day, that my attention and energies are elsewhere. As soon as the day is over, I can think about my stomach, and I realize how much I would love to have that bagel and lox.

Jethro reminds the Israelites of their mission in the world, to spread knowledge of God and adherence to His morality. When the Israelites look at him, they see the whole world looking back at them. They realize that their actions send a message. If they are committed to fixing the world, they will take care to send the right message. A responsible parent will not behave dangerously or foolishly if their children are watching.

But once a mission is no longer ones focus, indulgence in temporary pleasures becomes very tempting. When Jethro left, even if he left his children behind, the immediacy of the mission of Israel became weakened, and they started to slip into materialism. First, they rebelled against the Manna that God provided for them and, instead, craved meat and fish and other foods. Then came their ultimate rejection of mission, in the form of the sin of the spies and the people's refusal to go up into the Promised Land.

Having a life mission is not a luxury, is the only way to ensure that one lives and inspired life of meaning and high ethical standards. Having a Jethro to remind us of this is an important part of having that mission.

In contemporary Israel, some of the laws of the sabbatical year are dealt with by temporarily selling the fields to a non-Jew. Since, according to Jewish law, fields belonging to a non-Jew are exempt from the sabbatical year limitations, this allows crops to be planted and harvested, albeit with some restrictions. This process, known as the "Heter Mechira", is quite controversial. On the surface, it seems like we are exempting ourselves from the laws of the sabbatical year by use of a technical loophole. Is this the ideal way to serve God?

While I am opposed to the widespread use of this technique, there are times and places when it may be the only solution. This is not the topic of this article, so I will cut to the quick and deal with a question that this sale brings up. It is a legal question, to be sure, but it has deep spiritual implications. The question is a practical one: How are we to treat the produce of fields that were sold for the sabbatical year?

Crops that grow in a Jewish-owned field in the sabbatical year have what is called "the sanctity of the Seventh Year." They must be eaten in a certain fashion, and treated with a degree of respect. They may not be thrown in the garbage, and they may not be used for other purposes. Does this status of sanctity of the fruits and crops also applies to those that grow in the field of a non-Jew? The rabbis are divided on this issue.

This question is an example of a larger question. What is the nature of the sabbatical year? Is it an obligation for the fields to be rested, or for man to refrain from working? Do I say that the obligation is for man, and therefore only applies to Jews, who are obligated in the Torah? If so, it makes sense that there is no sanctity in the produce of a field owned by a non-Jew. But if I say there is an element of granting the land its rest, then it is the land that generates the sanctity, not its particular owner.

At the end of Leviticus, God cautions that exile will result if the children of Israel do not observe the sabbatical year. The total proclaims that the land will "appreciate her rest during the time she is abandoned by (the children of Israel, while they are in exile)." This verse implies that it is the land that requires the rest and generates the sanctity. It implies that the land has developed a "sleep deficit" that it needs to make up during the exile. The assumption here is that there will be nobody else in the land working the fields, and indeed the lands shall rest.

History has largely borne that out. During the long years of exile, the land of Israel was mostly desolate. Mark Twain's description of a barren landscape nearly 150 years ago was a constant for centuries. Nonetheless, the commentator Kli Yakar is bothered by the possibility that others may indeed work the fields. If so, how will the fields rest? The Torah must not be making claims that may not pan out.

Rather, he says, the fact that others may work the fields is of no consequence. The sabbatical year has a more elevated purpose. It is to frame all of our worldly endeavors with faith in God. The greatest challenge to faith is not suffering, but success! The successful businessman begins to believe, "my strengths and skills of hand have made for me all of this fortune." Thus, says the commentary, God tells us to stop all the work, and see what happens.

What will happen? The fields will produce more than double the produce in the sixth year. Same effort, same business plan, dramatically different results. Similarly, the children of Israel were forbidden to collect the Manna on the Sabbath. They did not know that, and when they got home on Friday morning from gathering in their daily food, they realize that they had taken twice the usual amount. That's strange? They thought they had done their usual Friday shopping.

God is teaching us a powerful lesson here. The lesson is not that we are completely insignificant in making our fortunes, that it is all God. That is not true, because if it would be, we should never have to work the fields, not in the seventh year nor in any year! We should not have to rest just on the Sabbath, but rather all week long! If it is a lesson of faith, let it be absolute.

What is the true lesson of faith here? Not that God makes our fortune for us, but rather he gives us the strength and ability to make our own fortune. The fields in the sixth year will only give us extra bounty if we bother planting them in the first place. If we don't plan to fields, certainly nothing of significance will grow. God wants us to do our part, but realize that it is He who grants as the power to succeed.

When you think about it, you realize that this is the perfect arrangement. Why? Because if I know that it is God who gave me the gifts I have, I will take care to use them responsibly. If God gives us the ability to make our fortune, we must use our fortune for purposes that God would approve of. We must support the weak, we must build a lifestyle of morality and balance. We must avoid the bottomless pit of materialism. God wants us to make a difference, that's why He has faith in us and gives us strength.

Many things in the world are double-edged swords. Nuclear power can fuel an entire country, or it can destroy an entire world. So it is with spiritual power. The combination of the children of Israel and the land of Israel is a spiritual nuclear power plant. God wants us to use that power to light up the world. We are to be an example of His morality. But if we fall into the pits of materialism, if we forget that God gave us these powerful gifts, that power could destroy the world. It would send a destructive message to all of humanity, leading to the breakdown of society.

In such a case, God has no choice but to exile his people and thus, save the world. The moment they are ready to return to the land, and fulfill their stewardship faithfully, is the moment that the world can be truly enlightened.

This is the message of the sabbatical year, this is why it was given at Mount Sinai. It is an equal significance of the 10 Commandments, for it is the purpose of the Jewish people in the world. The sabbatical year is about faith, and together with faith comes tremendous responsibility. The other nations were not given the job, so even if they work the fields during the seven years, no affront to faith is committed.

There is a saying: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I don't know if I accept that, but I do believe that the road to heaven is NOT paved with good intentions. It is paved with good deeds. Intentions without deeds are sterile and irrelevant. Deeds are where the magic is.

With that as an introduction, let us look at one particular sacrifice called a "Shelamim." The Shelamim is translated as a Peace Offering, and according to most opinions, is not brought as a result of sin and brings no atonement. Instead, it is brought as a celebratory sacrifice. One who is successful in business, has enjoyed a personal milestone or just wishes to bring a sacrifice will bring a Shelamim.

According to Rashi, the great commentator, the Shelamim is so called because it brings peace to the world. That seems to be quite a claim .. and a stretch. Certainly it is a good deed, but how does it affect the world?

On a similar theme, there is a saying we repeat in our Sabbath prayers: Torah scholars increase peace in the world. What does this mean, how is this so?

I believe the answer lies in the interface between thoughts and deeds. The successful businessman did not have to bring a Shelamim. Yet he did. Why? Because he realizes that thoughts without deeds are sterile. They wither and die, like a flower that was never watered. The wise one realizes that to keep the blessings in his life, he must utilize them, and to keep the inner happiness in his life, he must express it. And that, of necessity, affects the rest of the world.

You see, a person who brings a sacrifice as thanks for his good fortune has internalized the importance of sharing. He shares his joy with God, with the Kohanim who get a portion of the offering, and with his friends and family. The quantity of meat from the sacrifice that must be eaten within two days time requires him to share the feast with others.

By sharing his fortune, he sends good vibes out into the world and inspires others to share as he does. That is the core of the saying about Torah scholars as well. They, by their example, inspire others to follow it. That is the way the world is changed.

The Book of Leviticus is also known as Torat Kohanim, the book about the priestly class. The founder of that tribe was Aaron, Moses' brother. About Aaron it is said in the Ethics of the Fathers, "Be (his) disciple. Love peace, pursue peace. Love people and bring them close to Torah." It is not enough to love peace, one must pursue it. It is not enough to love people, one must bring them close to Torah.

Thoughts and feelings are not enough. Deeds are required. That's how the world gets fixed.

The High Priest's special garments are described in detail in the chapter called Tetzaveh. A fascinating ornament he wore was the interspersed golden bells and material pomegranates he wore on his hem. The Torah explains that he was to wear these so as to make a sound when he entered the Sanctuary. If he does so, he will not die. The implication being, if he fails to wear these bells that make the noise, he will die if he thus enters the Sanctuary.

That's a pretty unusual arrangement! According to the Sages, this was to avoid the jealousy of the angels, who are jealous that man has such a Sanctuary. Why do bells help?

A further question is asked by the Netziv of Volozhin: The other Kohanim (priests) entered the Sanctuary on a daily basis as well, yet they do not have bells on their hems. Why is this danger specifically for the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest?

Oznaim Latorah explains the principle that whomever is more holy or great, has a bigger evil inclination. Thus, an ordinary Kohen is not in the same danger that the High Priest is. How so? What is the danger? And how do the bells alleviate it?

I believe the danger is the most destructive of all character traits: Pride. A great person is easily tempted to become prideful, and, as King Solomon said, "Pride comes before the fall."

It is like a ladder. The higher up one goes, the less forgiving a fall becomes. From the top of the ladder, the fall can be fatal. From one step up, it's nothing. The High Priest, as the title implies, is high up on the ladder. Thus me must remember that he is on a ladder to begin with. If he keeps that in mind, he will be careful to not take chances. He will remember where he is, and act and think accordingly. God is the "Yodea Machshavot," the Knower of Thoughts.

It also reminds me of a dog's collar, where the jingling of the bells lets the master know where the animal is a any time. It symbolizes subservience, and that is exactly what is more demanded from the greater person.

So as we strive for greatness, let us remember to couple it with ever greater humility. We may be smarter, faster, richer and so forth than our neighbors, but we are no more important than them. Let us never forget that. Each soul is created in the image of God and is holy. A person's holiness cannot be measured, thus it must not be treated with disrespect.

If, in theory, dismantling settlemets would bring about peace and a cessation of teror and hostility, most would agree that it is justified. After all, Judaism allows all Torah commandments save idolatry, adultery and murder, to be violated if it is necessary to save a life. One can certainly argue that achieveing peace is a life-saving accomplishment.

On the other hand, the Jewish People are commanded to dwell in their land. That is even obligatory if it means fighting. Otherwise, what is the difference between the West Bank and Tel Aviv? If Israel voluntarily dismantles itself and all the Jews move to the US, that may be said to bring about peace and save lives. Yet no one in their right mind would suggest such a thing.

So is one part of the Land of Israel different than the whole of the Land? I think yes, and historically we find that King Solomon gave cities in the North to the King of Tyre. So perhaps a small territorial gift that enables the rest to live in peace is justified.

The problem with all this talk is that it is based on a theoretical that is non-existent. There is no guarantee that ceding territory and dismantling settlements will bring peace. There is a guarantee that it would weaken Israel strategically. It seems to me that the "life-saving" argument actually goes the other way and forbids giving away territory.

But it's not just theory, there is precedent. Israel unilaterally withdrew from the Gaza strip. Thousands of families in dozens of settlements were uprooted. The end result? Missile fire and terrorism. No peace.

There is no reason to think that further uprootings would have any different result.

Also, the western world does not know how small Israel is. To leave the post '67 areas would again leave Israel with a narrow belly of only 11 miles! Imagine putting enemy guns across the Hudson and trying to keep New York safe. Same deal. The heavily populated central Israel area would be only 11 miles from Arabs. If they follow Gaza precedent, all of Tel Aviv will be in and out of bomb shelters.

Nope, saving lives implies keeping the settlements and the territories. Only if there is a clear destination of peace could we even think of compromise. There is no such destination, and there is no partner ready for it. If they wanted peace, they'd have had it long ago. They want Israel to be theirs to transform into Palestine, and eliminate the Jewish State.

Read the news, the leaders can't bring themselves to recognize that Israel is a Jewish State.

Sorry to disappoint, but reality must be faced.

At the beginning of the section of "Pekudei" in Exodus, there is a precise accounting of the materials donated for the Tabernacle. Such an amount of gold was used for this, and so much silver was used for that, etc... Moses made this accounting so he shouldn't be a headline in the newspaper. He did not want the slightest doubt to his honesty, and made sure that the accounting was very public and very accurate.

Which is what the people demanded. And yet, by contrast, they demanded no such accounting for all the gold and silver that they had given for the Golden Calf!!! On the surface, this is an indictment! It seems they were more generous for that tragic sin than for the Holy Sanctuary! How can this be?

The answer lies in two Hebrew terms used for the creative work in the sanctuary: avodah and melacha. The former means "labor". The latter means "artistic labor". What is the difference?

My teacher, Rav Ahron Soloveichik, explains it as follows. Avodah-Labor is fulfilling the technical requirements of a job, in a manner where the work is mechanical and extraneous to the personality of the doer. Melacha-Artistic Labor is where the doer invests their personality, their soul into the work.

In practical business terms, it is a tale of two salesmen. Both have a sheet of leads to call. The avodah laborer will call the numbers, read the sales script, and probably not sell too much. It is extraneous to him, his soul is not in it. The melacha-laborer will also call the leads, but will have an enthusiasm about him that will close many sales.

With this explanation, we now see how, indeed, the demand for accounting from Moses when the people donated to the Sanctuary, and the lack of such a demand when they donated for the Calf is a great merit. Rav Sorotzkin, in his work Oznaim Latorah, explains the difference:

The people did not really connect to the Calf with their souls. It was an extraneous act that they temporarily fell into. Thus, they really didn't care where the money went. Subconsciously, they would have been happy if the Calf never happened. But the Sanctuary was dear to them, was part of their very being. Therefore, they wanted to be absolutely certain that every penny was used for its intended purpose.

Perhaps this is why the term for idolatry is "Avodah zara," a foreign Labor, as opposed to "melacha zara."

So how about the minute? When a person prays, or performs any commandment, do they do it "to fulfill the obligation?" Are they meeting the technical requirements without thyat soul connection? The test is in the minute before. If the person pauses, gathers their concentration, recites a prayer that the commandment they are about to fulfill should find favor in God's eyes, then odds are that they connect personally to this good deed.

But if they rush in, hurry to get it over with and their mind is elsewhere, they have missed a chance to grow tremendously as a spiritual person. All it takes is a minute, and a minute, and a minute.

A gnawing question. The Canaanites were not good people. Their societies practiced serious abominations, including human sacrifice and orgiastic religious ceremonies. They were warlike and, simply, barbaric. Compared to the Israelites, Jacob and his family, they were simply evil. Jacob espoused humanity and dignity. When his sons committed acts of war against Shechem, he sternly rebuked them and the crime was not repeated.

So it is puzzling that these Canaanite nations gained Divine merit at the direct expense of the Israelites. It happened when Joseph, his brothers and an Egyptian honor guard came to Canaan in order to bury their patriarch, Jacob. The procession stopped at a place called Goren HaAtad, and there a tremendous mourning took place. According to the sages, the Canaanite kings had come out in a belligerent mood, intending to destroy the rerurnin Israelites,

But when they saw the intensity of the mourning, they hung their crowns above Jacob's coffin. They showed him respect. According to our sages, he was respected because the famine in Egypt ceased when Jacob arrived their, and resumed when he passed away. Thus, he became revered. When the Canaanites became aware of this, they, too, showed him respect and hung the crowns.

All is fine so far. The problem starts with the aftermath of this display of respect for the Tzaddik, the righteous one. The Canaanites were granted another long period of time in the soon-to-be Holy Land, while the Israelites went back to Egypt, eventually to suffer the worst of oppression and slavery. Is that fair? So they showed some respect, but they didn't change their basic ways! Why do they get a free pass at the expense of the far-more-moral Israelites?

In a sense, this was the question that lead the prophet Jonah to run away on a ship rather than preach to the gentiles of Nineveh. Jonah knew that the Assyrians of Nineveh would threaten his kingdom in the future, so he felt it would be better for Israel if they don't receive God's message of repentance and thus merit destruction. If it's us or them, better them, thought Jonah. After all, even if they repent (from the sin of lawlessness and theft), they will still not be nearly as righteous as Israel! They will still be idolaters.

God eventually forces Jonah to fulfill the mission, and Jonah succeeds in motivating all Ninevenians to repentance, thus saving them from God's threatened destruction. Jonah is now despondent, and he places himself on the ground outside the city. God will now teach him a lesson, and answer the gnawing question.

Overnight, God causes a beautiful tree to grow, giving Jonah shade. Just as Jonah enjoys it, a worm eats its roots and the tree instantly withers and dies. Jonah is even more despondent. He wants to die. Then God gives him the core message: You had mercy on this tree that came overnight and disappeared overnight. Shall I not have mercy on such a large city as Nineveh and all the humanity and animals therein?

In the words of the Radak, a Biblical commentator, Jonah was upset because his pleasure, in the shade of the tree, was taken away. God says to Jonah that His glory is present in ALL mankind, and thus if they sin and are destroyed, God's glory is diminished.

I believe that this is the core message of what God wants in the world. He wants perfection, to be sure, but is teaching us that the way to get there is through Tikun, through fixing. We do not fix that which is already fixed, but that which is broken. That being the case, Tikun is far more important than anything else. Fixing the Ninevenians, fixing the pagan Canaanites, takes precedence over the "already fixed" Israelites. Or, one could say, by fixing the Ninevenians and Canaanites, God is preparing the tools to further fix the Israelites. After all, Assyria will chastise Israel, and the Egyptian slavery will forge them into an even holier nation.

In either case, the emphasis is on fixing. Even a small fix, which may or may not last, carries great weight with God.

The lecturer I heard suggested that the route to achieving goals runs through focusing on all the potential blocks, obstacles and problems. If, instead of simply planning to reach my goal, I plan to surmount all of the obstacles to my success, I will end up with a far better plan.

My teacher, Rav Ahron Soloveichik, stressed the importance of educating mentally handicapped children. Why, society may ask, focus on that? They won't become great scholars. Maybe all the resources should be put into elite education!

Rav Ahron gave a resounding "no". We are a chain, and a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. By strengthening the weak link, the whole chain will hold better. The Haggadah urges us to engage the "Child who cannot ask," which Rav Ahron identifies as a child with disabilities. One famous Talmudic sage would teach such a student a simple lesson 400 times! It is that important, because God's glory is in ALL humanity. Therefore, by pursuing Tikun - Fixing, we enhance God's glory and move toward the universal goals of the messianic era far more effectively.

What is the basic requirement of Hanukkah? Just one candle per household. Thus says the Talmud. In the same section, we learn that the "Mehadrin", those who wish to do it in better style, will light one candle for each member of the family. They will do so each night. Then we meet the "Mehadrin min Hamehadrin", those who wish to do it in even greater fashion. They will light one candle more for each night of Hanukkah. Yes, today everyone does it like the Mehadrin min Hamehadrin. We all light one on the first night, two on the second and so forth.

There is a debate among the commentaries if the Mehadrin and the Mehadrin min Hamehadrin are exclusive or inclusive. In other words, do the Mehadrin min Hamehadrin light just one menorah and follow the days, or do they build on the Mehadrin and light for the whole family, and double that on the second night, triple it on the third and so forth. If a family of three is Mehadrin min Hamehadrin, do they light 1-2-3 .. or 3-6-9...?

I have a more basic question: If the lighting of the candles is to recall the Menora from the Temple, why don't we light seven candles every night? There is a practical answer, that the Bible forbids making a seven branched candelabra, as the one in the Temple needed to be a unique one. So maybe we should light 8 each night? Perhaps so, but the sages generally try to minimize the expenses of the citizenry, so they wouldn't make such an expensive requirement. As it is, the 36 candles required by the Mehadrin min Hamehadrin is enough expense.

I will suggest a different explanation as to what the candles symbolize, and it is NOT the candelabra in the Temple. It is, instead, the root cause of the Jewish victory, and of Jewish persistence and survival. There are a number of elements, but the most basic is the family. "Ner ish uvaito = a candle for each man and his home." The Jewish family is the bedrock of our survival. We teach traditions, we share holidays and every-days. It is a place of nurturing, of warmth, of eternity.

Thus, our first obligation on Hanukkah to ensure the continued existence of our people is to strengthen our families. Our homes should be bastions of Torah and Jewish tradition. There is no room for a Hanukkah bush or a Christmas tree. There is room for candles, for the singing of Maoz Tzur, for the telling of the story of the miracle of the candles. I find it inspiring that even the most assimilated Jews have Hanukkah in their homes.

What about the Mehadrins and the Mehadrin min Hamehadrins? Hillel, the Mishnaic sage, said the famous teaching, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am for myself only, what am I? And if not now, when?"

This is how I explain the three levels of lighting, each with its message. "If I am not for me.." is one candle. It's the family unit. "If I am for myself only.." implies living for others. This is the Mehadrin, who lights for all the members of the family. Thus, our concern for each other is expressed, and our cohesiveness as a nation is strengthened.

"If not now, when?" Here we move, perhaps to the most powerful aspect. Growth! This is the basic difference between the Jewish nation and the rest of the world. Jews are obsessively future-oriented. Tomorrow is everything, today is just a way to get there. What we do today must be geared towards strengthening tomorrow. Hence, if not now, when will I prepare for tomorrow? It must be today.

By lighting an additional candle each day, instead of 8 every night, we express the centrality of growth in our faith. Each day must certainly have it's glow, it's accomplishments, but those accomplishments are not in a vacuum. They must lead to tomorrow. Each day builds on the previous. We are always building a greater future.

Therefore, the way we light candles, by including all the elements, expresses Hillel's dictum beautifully. Further, it is the essence of our survival: Our families, our concern for each other, and our constant building up to the future.

Happy Hanukkah!