Showing posts with label Aharei Mot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aharei Mot. Show all posts

Sunday, May 3, 2020

Parashat Aharei Mot: The Life of Speech

The Life of Speech
Thoughts on Parashat Aharei Mot 2020
Click here to view as PDF

And Aharon shall lay his two hands on the head of the goat and confess over it all the transgressions of Bnei Yisrael and all their sins (VaYikra 16:21)

The confession of sins, vidui, played an integral role in our national atonement on Yom Kippur. Aharon once represented the people on that day by confessing their sins while placing his hands atop the goat which was sent off to the desert. Today, in the absence of a Mikdash and kohen gadol, we each confess our wrongdoings on Yom Kippur, as part of the repentance process.

HaRambam ruled that merely admitting to sin in our mind is insufficient for vidui. We must, instead, verbally confess our transgressions.[1] While generally accepting the halakhic principle of “hirhur ke-dibur,” which equates concentrated thought to verbal expression, HaRambam inexplicably presents the confession of sins as an exception to the rule. Why?[2]

I am reminded, in this context, of a related concept in a different realm of halakhah. Although we fulfill the missvah of talmud Torah by simply contemplating its words and precepts, the Hakhamim nonetheless emphasized the value of verbal articulation while learning. They referred to a particular “life” that is generated by uttering words of Torah. And they stressed the strengths of memory and retainment which are born out of learning aloud.[3] How do spoken words affect our comprehension? And what is the connection between our mouths and the “life” and retention of Torah?

The kabbalists separate the human personality into three separate facets. They refer to the two outer extremes as neshamah and nefesh. While the neshamah represents our thought and mental comprehension, the nefesh is our physical motion and activity. The integral component that links those two aspects, however, is ruah. The ruah represents our emotions, expressed by our speech.[4]

During my first year as a high school teacher, Rabbi David Eliach taught me an invaluable method. “Have the students talk,” he repeatedly told me, “Force them to read the text out loud.” I soon learned that by doing so, the words had a way of “concretizing” in my students’ minds. Simply reading with their eyes and giving thought to the concepts left them static in their memory. By speaking the words with their mouths, however, the students breathed into them a dynamic “life” and personal character.

Indeed, it is our ability to talk which allows us to transcend a world of facts and principles into one of feelings and perspective. Consider, for example, our earliest expressions of speech – Adam’s naming of the animals in Gan Eden (Bereshit 2:19). Leon Kass noted the significance of that gesture. He commented on how human acts of selection are shaped by interests, which spring from desire. “The same is true of human speech, even of simple naming,” he wrote, “Although the ability to name rests on the powers of reason, the impulse to name is rooted in desire or emotion.” While bare reason is motiveless and impotent, the act of choosing words and naming is an expression of “an inner urge, need or passion, such as fear or wonder, anxiety or appreciation, interest or curiosity.” The content of speech, Kass thus suggested, reflects the inner soul of the speaker.[5] By forcing Adam to choose the names of the animals and express them with his speech, God introduced him to the emotive side of his personality. He exposed Adam to his ruah.

Our ability to retain information is dependent upon the depth of its penetration into our being. Merely reading Torah with our eyes and minds leaves its words separate and apart from ourselves. Speaking it with our mouth breaths life – our life – into the text. It is for that reason, as well, that one must verbally confess their sins in the process of teshuvah. Thinking about the sins is a mental exercise. Verbalizing them is an emotional experience.

The verbal vidui of Yom Kippur, then, reveals to us the mystery of our expressive ruah. It teaches us that our thoughts and ideas remain dormant when left unspoken. By choosing words of expression, however, we integrate our mindful neshamah with active nefesh, generating the vitality of life through speech.


[1] HaRambam, Mishneh Torah: Hilkhot Teshuvah 1:1.
[2] This issue has been discussed at length by several halakhists. See a summary and discussion in R. Yosef Cohen, Sefer HaTeshuvah vol. 1 (Jerusalem, IS, 2006), pg. 33-35.
[3] See Eruvin 53b-54a. And cf. HaRambam, Mishneh Torah: Hilkhot Talmud Torah 3:12.
[4] See, e.g., R. Hayim of Volozhin’s Nefesh HaHayim 1:14.
[5] Leon R. Kass, The Beginning of Wisdom (Chicago, IL, 2003), pg. 75.

Sunday, May 5, 2019

Parashat Aharei Mot: Sacred & Profane

Sacred & Profane
Thoughts on Parashat Aharei Mot 2019
Click here to view as PDF
The Halakhah has never despaired of man, either as a natural being integrated into his physical environment, or as a spiritual personality confronting God.
(R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik)[1]

And he [Aharon] shall take two he-goats for an offense offering…And he shall take the two goats and set them before God at the entrance to Ohel Mo’ed. And he shall put lots on the two goats, one for God and one for Azazel… (VaYikra 16:5-8)
The beginning of Parashat Aharei Mot details God’s command to Aharon that he separate two goats (se’irim) for the avodah of Yom Kippur. He repeatedly referred to them as a single unit – “two goats,” and commanded that they be set together at the entrance of Ohel Mo’ed. The Hakhamim thus understood that the complete procedure of each goat was dependent upon the fulfillment of the other, and that the chosen goats were to ideally appear the same.[2] Chosen by lots, however, the destiny of the respective goats was far from the same:
And Aharon shall bring forward the goat for which the lot for God comes up, and he shall make it an offense offering. And the goat for which the lot for Azazel comes up shall be set live before God to atone upon it, to send it off to Azazel in the wilderness. (9-11)
Whereas the goat “for God” was sacrificed to Him in the Mishkan, the goat “for Azazel” was sent off alive into the wilderness. Significantly, however, even the process of the goat for Azazel – in the wilderness, far from the Mishkan – was described as taking place “before God.” What message was God sending with his command of this enigmatic process of “the two goats” on Yom Kippur?

Human beings naturally tend toward a dualistic understanding of existence. We distinguish between the physical and spiritual domains of life, viewing them as separate realities with little in common. R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik z”l argued against this contention, writing:
The Halakhah believes that there is only one world – not divisible into secular and hallowed sectors – which can either plunge into ugliness and hatefulness, or be roused to meaningful, redeeming activity, gathering up all latent powers into a state of holiness.[3]
According to R. Soloveitchik, Halakhah sets forth a vision of the world through monistic lenses, dismissing the absolute division of kodesh and hol.

Indeed, R. Hayim of Volozhin z”l commented on a classic debate about whether humans or angels are greater, suggesting that while an angel might in fact be “holier” in essence, a person possesses the significant advantage of being able to “elevate and interconnect the worlds.” God’s words, “I have given you the ability to move among these stationary ones” (Zekhariah 3:7) best describe this difference – whereas angels can solely operate in realms of sanctity – as “stationary” beings, man has the unique ability to unify the seemingly “holy” and “profane” through his “movement” between worlds.[4] The unique task of human beings, then, is to seek out and establish the unity between these seemingly disparate aspects of life by realizing the meaning and sanctity in every aspect of existence.

R. Hayim z”l furthermore suggested that the fatal flaw of the dor ha-mabul – the generation prior to Noah – lay in their inability to perceive sanctity in the physical. He thus explained God’s rationale, “My breath (ruhi) shall not abide in the human forever, for he is but flesh” (Bereshit 6:3), as a description of their failure to find the spiritual (“my breath”) amidst the physical (“flesh”).[5]

The two goats of the Yom Kippur service exemplified the Torah’s version of existence. Although their fate appeared entirely different – one slaughtered in the Mishkan and the other set forth alive in the wilderness – they were, in reality, playing parallel roles in a destiny of “standing before God.” The message to us, in turn, is that our mission on the streets and in the workplace is the same as that in the synagogue and bet midrash. While the environment of our day-to-day life continuously shifts, the two se’irim remind us that “standing before God” is a constant.

[1] “Catharsis,” in Confrontation and Other Essays (New Milford, CT, 2015), pg. 41.
[2] Sifra Aharei Mot 2:1.
[3] R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, The Lonely Man of Faith (New Milford, CT, 2012), pg. 58.
[4] R. Hayim of Volozhin, Nefesh HaHayim 1:10.
[5] R. Hayim of Volozhin, Ruah Hayim 3:1.

Tuesday, May 1, 2018

Parashat Aharei Mot: Process

Process
A Message for Parashat Aharei Mot 2018
Click here to view as PDF
And God spoke to Moshe after the death of Aharon’s two sons, when they came forward before God and died… (Vayikra 16:1)
The opening words of Parashat Aharei Mot place its subsequent narrative into the time frame following the deaths of Aharon’s sons Nadav and Avihu. God’s initial command contrasted their fatal flaw “when they came forward before God,” and served as a future warning for Aharon:
…That he not come at all times into the sacred zone within the curtain in front of the cover that is on the Aron, lest he die… (16:2)
It taught that one could not simply approach the inner chamber of the Mishkan at will; there was a process for doing so. Unlike Nadav and Avihu, who had overlooked process in their passionate approach of God, Aharon was now informed of the specific sacrifices, clothing and immersions that were necessary for future encounters.

It is important to note that God never implied that Nadav and Avihu were unprepared for their approach. Instead, His instructions at the onset of the parashah seem to suggest that they had nonetheless erred by skipping the preliminary steps of the process. His message was clear: The process maintains an intrinsic significance, regardless of any failure or success at reaching the anticipated goal.

Indeed, this was a lesson that Am Yisrael had already learned at Ma’amad Har Sinai. They were then informed that apart from the Torah that they would receive, it was the process leading up to its giving that was important: “…For in order to exalt you has God come, so that His fear shall be before you, so that you shall not sin (Shemot 20:17).

This was a message that they would again learn in their future approaches of God. Ritva (R. Yom Tov b. Avraham Asevilli) wrote that aliyah la-regel – travelling to the Mikdash on each of the three regalim – represented a fulfilment that was independent of the intended goal of arrival at Jerusalem.[1] Ramban (R. Moshe b. Nahman) explained that the travel to the Mikdash caused a necessary conversation amongst the various travelers regarding their journey to the “Mountain of God.” Unaware of the proper path to the Mikdash, they would be forced to stop and ask for directions, which would ultimately lead to discussions about their “true” destination.[2] Although the travelers’ eyes were fixed on the final destination of the Mikdash, aliyah la-regel afforded them the opportunity to grow along every step of the journey.

R. Simha Zissel Ziv z”l, the great mashgiah of Kelm noticed a similar message in several well-known pesukim in Tehilim (105:3-4):
Happy are the hearts of those who seek God
Seek out God and His might!
Continually seek His face.
He highlighted the mention of “happiness” in the incomplete act of “seeking God,” without having “found Him,” and sensed in this that the process is worthy in it of itself. The Alter pointed out that the mizmor implies that this process will continue for eternity, as we are mandated to “continually seek His face.” Contrary to the general importance that we singularly place upon “attained goals,” these pesukim recognize value in our steadfast approach even toward a mission that cannot be completed.[3]

Parashat Aharei Mot teaches that the enduring lesson from the deaths of Nadav and Avihu spans beyond the Mishkan and kehunah. The fatal flaw and punishment of the sons of Aharon are an eternal reminder that regardless of the outcome, we must always value the process.

[1] Hidushei HaRitva, Masekhet Sukah 25a (s.v. u-belekhtekha).
[2] Commentary of Ramban to the Torah, Devarim 12:5.
[3] R. Simha Zissel Ziv, Hokhmah UMussar vol. 2 (Jerusalem, IS, 2003), pg. 14-15. See, as well, Geoffrey D. Claussen’s Sharing the Burden: Rabbi Sumha Zissel Ziv and the Path of Musar (New York, NY, 2015), pg. 117-18.