Archives: 2017

The rabbis of the Talmud equate leprosy with a punishment for lashon hara, or evil, slanderous speech. The treatment of the leper involves him being isolated from the community, and this is seen as a punishment for his antisocial behavior. It makes sense. But there is a type of leprosy which is sometimes overlooked.

Clothing, specifically clothing of leather, wool, or linen, can also become infected with a plague. Now on a scientific level, this makes sense. This special type of leprosy is highly contagious, and the leper may have left the spores to grow in his clothing.

But an interesting question can lead to a fascinating discovery. The question, asked by Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, is why just three types of clothing? There are other materials out there as well! He answers that these three types of clothing can be found in the chapter of Genesis. Adam and Eve were given leather clothing by God after they ate from the tree of knowledge. Abel wore clothing made from the linen that he had grown. Cain were clothing made from wool, taken from his flocks.

Based on Rabbi Sorotzkin's connection of the leprosy disease to the origins of mankind, we can gain new insight into this remarkable phenomenon. What was accomplished when Adam and Eve ate from the tree of knowledge? Firstly, they became aware of their nakedness. How so?

The tree of knowledge could also have been called the tree of judgment. The snake enticed them by promising that they will be like "gods," or "judges," who can tell the difference between good and evil. And that, more or less, is what happened. They became judgmental. Once they were aware of good and evil, of better and worse, they started to look critically at each other. Hence, their nakedness became an issue. This horizontal focus lead in a direct line to Cain slaying his brother.

The one who slanders or speaks ill of another human being has justified their doing so by judging the other person. If the other person doesn't measure up, they feel they may speak against them. This unique disease is not merely a punishment, it is an outward manifestation of its root cause, viewing other people as "lepers."

A Talmudic Sage described his clothing as being his "honorers." Indeed, we wear clothing to protect our privacy, and to project our worth. Adam and Eve became aware that, just as they were judging each other, they were being judged by the other. Hence, the need to cover their own nakedness. The slanderer and the talebearer impugn the honor, the clothing, if you will, of the one whom they are attacking. They are seeking to remove their clothing, so to speak. As a result, their sin becomes manifest on their own clothing.

The moral of the story? The first step on the road to evil speech is judging our fellows. The Torah explicitly tells us to judge each other favorably, if we must judge at all. Lashon Hara is not just a sin of the mouth, it starts in the heart and mind. For this, some rose-colored glasses might not be a bad idea information

In the section of Vayakhel, the commandment of observing the Sabbath precedes the recounting of the construction of the Tabernacle. The Talmud deduces from this order that the Sabbath takes precedence over the Tabernacle. One may not say that building a Tabernacle is such an important task that it should supersede the Sabbath, and be performed even on that holy day. No, quite the opposite. All 39 labors that were required to construct the Tabernacle become the 39 labors that are specifically forbidden on the Sabbath.

In the book of Leviticus, however, there is the following verse: "A man shall fear his mother and father, and you (in the plural tense) shall observe my Sabbath, I am the Lord." The sages of the Talmud use this verse to teach us another lesson of priorities. If your parent tells you to violate the Sabbath, you may not listen to them.

The commentaries ask that this seems to contradict the lesson of Vayakhel, that the sequence indicates precedence. There, the Sabbath preceded the Tabernacle, so the Sabbath takes precedence over the Tabernacle. Why, then, in Leviticus, where the order is reversed, don't we say the same thing? We should say that fearing one's parents takes precedence over the Sabbath, because it precedes it in the verse!

What they don't mention is that in the 10 Commandments, Sabbath comes before "Honor thy father and my mother." Let's take a closer look at the way a person must relate to their parents, because this will lead us to the Sabbath and to the Tabernacle beyond.

Children must relate to parents in a special way, for two main reasons. First of all, gratitude for all of the kindness that our parents have done for us is the character trait behind the commandment to honor them. Honoring one's parents is performed by doing things for them. In the words of the Talmud, "take them out, take them in, feed them and clothe them..." This is the element of gratitude, of doing for them what they have done for us. For that reason, incidentally, the father is mentioned first, because it is less intuitive. A person naturally will love and wish to serve their mother, because she took more care of them during their infancy. So the Torah stresses that the father must also be respected and honored, equally to the mother.

The second reason children must relate to their parents in a special way relates to the child. It is because the parents are the link to tradition, and they pass on the mission of God to their children. This, I believe, is at the core of the commandment to fear one's parents. Fear does not mean trepidation that they will cause physical harm. The Talmud tells us what fear means: Do not sit in their place, do not contradict your parents, do not shame them. In other words, recognize that they are your teachers, and they are giving you your mission as part of the people of Israel.

The difference between the two reasons is huge. Gratitude is simply saying thank you, and doing kindness for them in return for the kindness they did for you. Fear -- respecting them as bearers of the mission -- tells the children how they must live their lives. It informs their purpose in life, and goes to the core of their identity. Our parents must become part of us, guiding us to continue the mission, to grow it and fulfill it.

Enter the Sabbath. At its core, the Sabbath is a day of acknowledgment of our divine mission. The Torah uses an interesting phraseology in introducing the Sabbath: "For six days work shall be done, and on the seventh day it shall be a day of rest... whoever will do work on the Sabbath day shall die." It does not say we need to work for six days, it says "six days work shall be done". The emphasis is on the work, not on the doer. The doer is mentioned in the next verse, "Whoever will do work on the Sabbath day shall die."

When soldiers go out on a mission, they are prepared to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the mission. That is the emphasis, not the actions they must take as part of that mission. The mission of the Jewish people is to build the Tabernacle, to bring God's presence into the world. Lest we begin to think that we are bigger than the mission, and that the mission is simply a means for our own aggrandizement, we are told to cease and desist on the day when God ceased creation.

I remember the year I produced my musical, and was fortunate to have an extremely devoted director working on it. He is a Sabbath observer, and the week before the show opened, he was put to the test. He had a lot of things that needed to be done, and needed to be ready for the Saturday night rehearsal. But Friday was ending, the sun was setting, and the Sabbath would start in a couple of minutes. He knew he would not finish in time, and would come to the rehearsal without full preparation, resulting in possible embarrassment and big problems for the production. He kept on working, and at one minute before sunset, he had to make a choice.

He chose the Sabbath. As he told me afterwards, when he put down all those papers and his pen, the most beautiful peace descended upon him and his home. He had never experienced such a wonderful Sabbath before. In that one choice, he affirmed that the mission is more important than the doer, and the mission is not the play. It's the Tabernacle, it's bringing God into the world. Nothing is more fulfilling than being a part of that.

And so, the order of these verses is perfect. A person should fear their parents, recognizing their sense of mission. That will lead them to observing the Sabbath, the day when we acknowledge that the mission is more important than the doer. And what is that mission? To build the Tabernacle, bringing God's presence into the world.

In other words, "You do not need to complete the work, but you are not at liberty to stop working at it." A person who works with the belief that they must complete the mission has put themselves above the mission. They will not learn from the Sabbath. A person who works because the mission needs to be done, recognizes that it is not their personal mission, but, rather, it is God's, will properly rest on the Sabbath, and lead a fulfilled life.

Soon after the Israelites crossed the Reed Sea, they were attacked by Amalek. Moses orders Joshua to lead the fight, and goes up on a hill. He raises his hands, and the Israelites prevail. He gets tired and lowers them, and Amalek gains the advantage. He arranges with Aaron and his nephew, Hur, to support his hands until the sun goes down and Israel is finally victorious.

Lots of hands here. What does this all mean?

Prior to the Amalek war, there was the incident of the water at Refidim. The Israelites had gone three days without finding water, and arrived at a place called Marah. There, the water was bitter. The people complained. Moses cried out to Hashem, who instructed him to throw a branch into the bitter waters to sweeten them.

And so it was, the water became potable. The Torah adds a comment, "There He gave them a law and a statute, and there He tested them." What was this test? Later, they arrive at another waterless place called Refidim. They complain, asking rhetorically why were they brought from Egypt to die by thirst? Moses cries out again, and is instructed to smite the stone, thus bring water out of the rock.

The sages interpret the name of this place, Refidim, to mean "their hands were softened - rafu yadayim - from the Torah." in other words, they became lax in keeping God's commandments.

How so? It seems to me they have a legitimate beef. Without water, they are goners. Why is complaining such a sin?

In the first episode, at Marah, Rashi comments that their misdeed was not in being concerned about the lack of water, but their complaining about it. Instead, says Rashi, they should have simply asked Moses to pray for them. What is the difference, besides respect (which is certainly big)?

In a word, Faith. If you believe things will work out, but you don't see it, you ask. If you don't believe things will work out, you complain. Complaints are a form of accusation, and reflect a suspicion of the one to whom they complain. A request evinces both respect and the belief that the person being asked has the power to grant the request.

Earlier still in the chapter, as the Israelites stood before the Reed Sea with an angry Egypt at their back, they were nervous. Moses calms them by saying "You stand here silently and God will fight for you." God immediately criticizes Moses, saying "Why do you scream to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward." Going forward means into the sea.

Where had Moses screamed to God here? He had just promised Israel that God would fight for them!

The answer is in perceived reality. There was no need for God to fight, as there was a clear path ahead, through the Sea. Only those with Faith could see this deeper reality, that God did not bring the Israelites out of Egypt to die by the Sea. If that is your reality, then the Sea is no obstacle. If it is not your reality, indeed you panic. Moses had it half right, that God would certainly not allow the Israelites to perish, but he needed to inhabit a reality where such a speech was not even necessary. It was only needed if you saw the Sea as an insurmountable obstacle.

Now we can understand the other episodes. If they complained, it was because they did not believe that they would survive, that water could come from a stone or a bitter well. This is the ultimate goal of the Torah, to believe that the world can be the Torah world. That God can triumph. That God protects us. We don't complain. Reality interferes? We ask, and we believe it will change. Jewish history has proven this over and over again.

Moses' hands in the air symbolize faith. "His hands were Faith until the sun set." When his hands were in the air, the Israelites saw their victory in that gesture. That faith changed reality, gave them the balance of power over a superior army. When his hands were tired, they began to doubt, and then reality changed for them. Moses found the way to keep his hands up, and in the end that Faith changed Reality and Israel prevailed.

So about the Secret and all that, there is some basis for this. Believing in success is indeed the prerequisite, however we need one thing more. We need hands. We need to do, to ask, and do some more. Thus it is in our personal lives, thus it is in our world. Those who define reality in evil terms are evil people. Those who see reality regarding the Good, will be good.

May our best hopes become the world's reality.

There is a Mishna that states: ".. A mitzva brings about another mitzvah, and a sin brings about another sin. The reward of a mitzva is a mitzva, and the reward of sin is a sin." What does this mean? How can the "reward of a sin" even exist? Shouldn't the Mishna say, "the loss of a sin is a sin?"

The story of Joseph and the brothers is a powerful one which addresses these issues head on. When the brothers come to Egypt to buy food and find themselves in front of a Joseph that they do not recognize, he decides to put them through the wringer. He accuses them of being spies, and forces them to bring their younger brother Benjamin back to Egypt with them the next time they come. What was the point of this whole exercise? Revenge? Don't think so at all.

Joseph is referred to as "Yosef hatzadik," or, Joseph the righteous one. This means more than just staying moral in an immoral land. Joseph is a "matzdik," someone who justifies what happens to him. That is how he could be a faithful servant when a prisoner in an Egyptian jail. Other men would've been broken, would have fallen into depression. Joseph took it upon himself to help out all the other prisoners.

The second meaning of "matzdik" is to cause others to be justified. Joseph sought to lift up all those with whom he had contact. His purpose was to help others discover the good in themselves, and improve their own lives. This is the reason he put his brothers through such an agonizing trial of character.

My teacher, Rabbi Aaron Soloveichik ZT"L, explained the brilliant psychological insight of Joseph. Joseph saw that his brothers were consumed by guilt. Now, guilt after a sin is a healthy thing IF it will lead to repentance. There is another kind of guilt which is destructive, and it is this to which the Mishna quoted above refers. It is when a person feels that they are so bad that they can never be good. That is the "reward" of sin that is a sin itself. A person throwing up their hands in surrender will never successfully repent. Thus, they have rewarded themselves with license to sin freely. That mindset is a sin.

The brothers believed that they were irredeemable. When they first come to Egypt, and Joseph accuses them of espionage, the brothers express their guilt to one another. "But we are guilty on account of our brother (Joseph) whose suffering we saw as he begged us to spare him. We did not listen to him." When Joseph hears this, he must leave the room and cry. Certainly it was an emotional moment for him, but his tears were more than simple emotion. He was crying because the brothers were, in effect, saying that they could never properly repent.

The musical notes that these words are read with in the synagogue are called "zarka." This means "throwing," and musically it goes down to the lowest part of the register. It symbolizes giving up, throwing away any hope and sinking into deep depression. The brothers felt they could never repent, that their sin was too great. Joseph, the great justifier, determined to prove to them otherwise.

The Rambam, in the laws of repentance, describes the ideal penitent as someone who "finds himself in the same place, with the same woman, and the same temptation, but refrains from sinning this time." Joseph engineered a situation where the brothers would be in an identical situation with Benjamin to that they were in with him years before. Having planted his cup in Benjamin's bag, Joseph seeks to keep Benjamin as a slave in Egypt, and allow the brothers to return home to their father. I believe that if the brothers had done this, Joseph would never have spoken to them again.

But they didn't! This time, Judah stepped up to the plate and took responsibility. He offered himself instead of his brother. It was safe to assume that some of the bitterness that Joseph had received from the brothers would be transferred to Benjamin, who became his father's next favorite son. The brothers could have easily gotten rid of this favorite as well, without having to lift a hand. But they didn't. That is what Joseph wanted them to see, that they were capable of becoming penitents. He wanted them to feel their own potential to do better.

And so it is when confronting a person who is broken in our eyes. Lecturing, haranguing and criticizing will only make things worse. Somehow, a way must be found to show the person their own potential. They must come to the realization that they need to change on their own. All we can do is show them love despite, not because of, their shortcomings. We don't want to encourage self-destructive behavior, but we do want to build up the self-confidence of this special person. Gentle encouragement to believe in oneself is the way of Joseph, the great justifier.

Moses first connects to God when he happens upon the burning bush. This bush, a dried out and highly flammable plant, was engulfed in flames. Miraculously, it remained unharmed and unburned. When Moses approaches, God informs him that he is standing upon holy ground, and he must remove his shoes. He then proceeds to instruct Moses of the mission: go to Egypt, bring the children of Israel out to freedom.

Moses is highly skeptical. First, he asks for all kinds of proofs and raises all kinds of potential problems. How do I know you will be with us? If they ask me what Your name is, what should I tell them? Each time, God reassures him and gives him usable answers.

Then, Moses hesitates again. "I have a heavy mouth and a heavy tongue," Moses said. God responds, "who will put a mouth in a man in the first place?" In other words, your stuttering should not slow you down. Nonetheless, Moses begs to have a spokesman, something which upsets God, but he agrees. He will send Moses's brother Aaron.

I never quite understood this entire dialogue. How can Moses argue with God? If God tells him he can do it, well darn it, he can!

There is a tension between the world of faith in the world of practical reality. In the world of faith, miracles are evident. But Moses, like Jacob before him, realizes that he lives in the world of practical reality. Jacob had been assured of a secure future, yet when he heard that Esau was coming with 400 men, he became terrified. What of God's assurance? It was not enough for Moses either, because Moses understood the apparent absurdity of his mission. He was supposed to go to Pharaoh and demand that he free hundreds of thousands of valuable slaves. How is that going to work?

In the world of faith, it's no problem. But in the real world, what hope would there be that Pharaoh would agree to such an outlandish request? And yet that is the symbolism of the burning bush. The physical world won't allow that bush to survive. But the physical world is not the only world we inhabit. Our world connects to the spiritual world, which is the world of faith. Our mission is to break through the physical limitations of the physical world, and bring the holiness of the spiritual world into our lives.

In other words, when you confront the burning bush, take off your shoes. That is where holiness is, in those windows into the world of faith. The bush was such a window.

But we do not commonly encountered burning bushes that are not consumed, so where can we access the spiritual world? Through our power of speech! Moses needed to learn this lesson, more than any other. Yes, he stuttered, and that should disqualify him from delivering such an important message. But God tells him that it is not the physical property of speech that matters, but the spiritual content of it. "Life and death are in the hands of speech," said King Solomon. The way we use our power of speech will determine if we inhabit a world that is connected to the spiritual world of faith.

So Moses had nothing to fear, because God promised He would be with him. Moses was afraid this promise wasn't enough, if he had to function in the physical world. God was telling him that his speech would be inspired, and would break through the limitations of the physical world. He would indeed get Pharaoh's attention.

What's fascinating is that Moses did not tell Pharaoh that his enslavement of the Hebrews was immoral. He didn't thunder about freedom and liberty as basic human rights. And when referring to God, he did not imply that God was also in charge of the Egyptians. He talked about the God of the Hebrews, and he talked about what would happen to the Hebrews if they aren't given the opportunity to go and sacrifice to Him. Not a word about the Egyptians, their theology, or what would happen to them.

All Moses said is, "let my people go to sacrifice to our God in the wilderness, lest He strike us with sword or plague." Fascinating. God is guiding Moses into the psychology of Pharaoh. The Egyptians believed in multitudes of gods, and believed that each nation had their own. He was not confronting Pharaoh, he was not insulting Pharaoh. He was speaking his language, and urging him to accept in his own terms the religious need to let the Israelites go.

Confrontation may be fun, and sometimes we certainly must speak truth to power, but there is a smarter way. Use our speech to connect with the other, and to gently move them on the path of spirituality. The way we talked determines how much of a miraculous life we can live. We should take courage from Moses's example, and not be afraid to go and talk to Pharaoh. And we should take heed of how God instructed Moses to do so, with understanding and a determination to communicate.