Parashat Masei: Focus

Focus

A Message for Parashat Masei 2018

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Nearly half of the pesukim in Parashat Masei are a basic “travel log” of the various journeys of Am Yisrael in the wilderness. Following God’s command, Moshe meticulously recorded each of the forty-two places where the nation stopped.[1] Surprisingly, however, there is hardly any mention of what took place at those stops. Most of the places are instead solely mentioned as part of a long list of locations along the forty-year journey. What lesson can we learn from the mere mention of these many masa’ot?

R. Aharon Lichtenstein z”l, the former rosh yeshivah of Yeshivat Har Etzion, once described his personal path to faith in God. He initially recalled some of the philosophical doubts and difficulties that he experienced in his youth but then explained that his faith was ultimately formed through the various chance “encounters” with God in his life. He wrote:

In part is has been channeled – primarily through talmud Torah…but also through tefillah and the performance of mitzvot…In part it has been random – moments of illumination while getting on a crowded bus or watching children play in a park at twilight.

Stressing the essential role of those experiences to his self-growth, Rav Aharon wrote: “In its totality…whatever the form and content, it has been the ultimate basis of spiritual life.”[2]

R. Lichtenstein explained that although our intellectual assent is essential, at the personal level it is not the key. He movingly stated: “The primary human source of faith is faith itself.”[3] The encounters with God which we desire cannot be anticipated. They are driven by a source of faith which is unscripted and unpredictable. I am convinced, however, that although we cannot will those “chance meetings” with God, we can nonetheless cultivate an approach to life which engenders such encounters.

Charles Lindbergh once described his experience inside the cockpit of The Spirit of St. Louis, which he famously flew across the Atlantic alone. He wrote:

My cockpit is small, and its walls are thin: but inside this cocoon I feel secure, despite the speculations of mind … I become minutely conscious of details in my cockpit – of the instruments, the levers, the angles of construction. Each item takes on a new value. I study weld marks on the tubing…a dot of radiolite on the altimeter’s face…the battery of fuel valves…all such things which I never considered much before, are now obvious and important…I may be flying a complicated airplane, rushing through space, but in this cabin I’m surrounded by simplicity and thoughts set free of time.[4]

Bestselling author Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi pointed to Lindbergh’s experience as an ideal approach to engagement with the world. He explained that a focused attention on the environment relieves us of thought about ourselves. Instead of expending energy and time to satisfy our own supposed needs, our attention is set alert to processing information from our surroundings. This stance opens the possibility for an objective vision and an awareness of alternative possibilities.[5]

In order to create an environment for encounter with God in our lives we must similarly shift our attention from internal concerns to thoughts about the external. His presence and approach can only be felt if we are sensitively attuned to our surroundings. Perhaps that is the essential lesson of the Torah’s long list of Am Yisrael’s journey locations in the midbar. A nation that had endured slavery for more than two centuries had become incapable of adjusting their sights from their own pain and suffering to the world around them. They were unaware of and disinterested in their surroundings. The forty-two stops along their journey – most of which were generally uneventful – forced them to pay attention. Each and every one of those locations, then, was significant for their growth. They encountered new surroundings which caused them to search for a world and existence that lay outside of them.

Am Yisrael’s seemingly meaningless journeyings in the midbar opened them to the opportunities for “random moments of illumination” with God. The Torah’s mention of those many masa’ot reminds us that in order to “randomly” experience God in our lives we must shift our focus from its fixed-state on ourselves to the world outside of us.

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[1] Based on the Commentary of Ramban to 33:2.

[2] R. Aharon Lichtenstein, Leaves of Faith: The World of Jewish Learning vol. 2 (Jersey City, NJ, 2004), pg. 366.

[3] Ibid., pg, 367.

[4] Charles Lindbergh, The Spirit of St. Louis (New York, NY, 1953), pg. 227-8.

[5] Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience (New York, NY, 1990), pg. 204-5.

Parashat Matot: The Power of Speech

The Power of Speech

A Message for Parashat Matot 2017

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Moshe had just learned that his life was soon ending. He was first commanded by God to climb Mount Avarim in order to catch a one-time glimpse of the Land of Israel, as he was reminded that he would not be entering there (Bemidbar 27:12-15). He was then instructed to teach the people several final rules (28:1-30:1), and ultimately told to wage war on the Midianites (31:1). In the moments prior to that last request of him, however, Moshe seized the unprompted opportunity to teach the nation a particular set of laws:

And Moshe spoke to the heads of the tribes of Bnei Yisrael, saying: “This is the thing that God has charged: Should a man take a vow or make an oath to God to take upon himself a binding pledge, he shall not profane his word. According to all that issues from his mouth he shall do… (30:2-4)

What is the significance of the rules of vows and oaths to these final moments of Moshe’s life?

S.Y. Agnon, the renowned Israeli Nobel Prize laureate writer, once wrote about the importance of the Council of Four Lands, the legislative body that governed Polish and Lithuanian Jewry for almost two hundred years. His narrator thus explained the difference between a monarchy and an ideal Torah leadership:

When a king establishes a police force to subdue the people by rod and whip and impose his decrees, they flaunt those decrees, and many are the rebels who sin against the king’s will. Yet the holy people Israel willingly accepted all that was placed upon them by the eminences of the Council of the Lands, which was like the Sanhedrin in the Chamber of Hewn Stone in the Temple.[1]

Agnon highlighted the ironic strength wielded by a system that is governed by words over one that is enforced by might.

Bilam, the gentile prophet whose words outlasted him as a parashah in the Torah, was never admonished by the angel of God for his evil intent of cursing Am Yisrael, but rather for his unnecessary use of brutality when he struck his donkey three times (22:32). The angel’s underlying message to Bilam at that time related to ideal authority and control: words are preferred to force.

Indeed, the Hakhamim taught this very lesson when they explained that Moshe’s fatal sin at Mei Merivah lay in the fact that he defied God’s word by hitting the rock instead of speaking to it.[2] God’s subsequent decree that he not enter the Land of Israel, then, stemmed from Moshe’s failure to lead the people with words instead of force.

Understanding that his reign as their leader was nearing its end, Moshe imparted to the people a moral that was undoubtedly running through his mind in those very moments: the importance of speech. He stood in front of them as a teacher who could instruct from a hard-learned experience as he implored them to value the power of their words. Though masked as a narrow set of rules regarding oaths and vows, Moshe’s message spoke a truth further reaching than that. It taught that an ideal leader speaks not with his muscles, but with his words.

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[1] S.Y. Agnon, A City in Its Fullness (New Milford, CT, 2016), pg. 308.

[2] See the Commentary of Rashi to Bemidbar 20:11.

Tevilat Keilim

Listen to last night's class, "Tevilat Keilim," here.

Follow along with the sources here.

For further research:

1) Read about the misconception that we mentioned, regarding using a utensil one time before dipping it, here.

2) We briefly mentioned that in a "she'at hadahak" pressing situation one can be lenient and eat on the utensils of a host who hasn't done tevilah. Read R. Asher Weiss's extensive analysis of this pesak here.

R. Menahem HaMeiri: Philosopher and Talmudist

Listen to last night's class, "R. Menahem HaMeiri: Philosopher and Talmudist," here.

Follow along with the sources here.

For further research:

1) At the beginning of the class we mentioned that it was largely based upon Moshe Halbertal's Bein Torah LeHokhmah. Read the related article that he wrote before publishing the book here. 

2) At the end of the class we mentioned Meiri's unique approach to the halakhic status of Christians. There has been much written on this topic. See, for example the articles of: a) Gerald Blidstein, b) Gedalya Oren and c) Moshe Halbertal.

3) We read an important passage from R. Yaakov Anatoli's intorduction to Malmad HaTalmidim. See David Guttman's recently-published annotated edition of the introduction in Hakirah journal here. 

Restoring Semikhah (1)

Listen to this morning's class, "Restoring Semikhah (1)," here.

Follow along with the sources here.


For further research:

1) Read Gerald Blidstein's "Maimonides on the Renewal of 'Semikha': Some Historical Perspective," here.

2) Read R. Yosef Zvi Rimon's detailed summary of the controversy here.

3) See R. Avraham Maimon's book Hidush HaSemikhah LeFi Da'at HaRambam here.

4) At one point we noted the irony of how a controversy of this nature emerged from the writings of HaRambam. For a broader discussion on that topic, read David Shatz's "Some Ironic Consequences of Maimonides' Rationalist Approach to the Messianc Age," here.

Parashat Pinehas: Decisions

Decisions

A Message for Parashat Pinehas 2018

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Several years ago, the well-known author Malcom Gladwell analyzed the various ways that we make decisions. His interest was piqued after he chose, on a whim, to grow his hair long. He first got several speeding tickets, which he had never before received. Then he realized that he was increasingly pulled out on airport security lines for extra questioning. And he finally understood what was happening when he found himself surrounded by several police officers in downtown Manhattan on one particular day. The men told Gladwell that they were looking for a rapist who looked like him. Glancing at the sketch, he quickly pointed out that the man in the picture was much taller, heavier and younger than he. Gladwell realized, however, the one physical attribute that they held in common: a large head of curly hair. Understanding the effect of the first impressions caused by the length of his hair, he was struck by the power of those “blink decisions” to our lives and set out to study the different decisions that we make.[1]

Haste makes waste. Look before you leap. Stop and think. Don’t judge a book by its cover. These principles which we were taught as children are sometimes right but other times not. Gladwell noted, for example, that many different professions and disciplines have a word to describe the gift of reading deeply into the narrow slivers of experience. He pointed to the “court sense” of basketball players who can quickly take in and comprehend all that is happening around them, and the “coup d’oeil” (“power of glance”) of generals who can immediately see and make sense of the entire battlefield. The ability to instantly break down and read a situation is often necessary for rendering the most effective decision.[2]

As a dignitary from Am Yisrael publicly sinned at the opening of Ohel Mo’ed, Moshe and the nation were stunned to inactivity. Pinehas, in contrast, sprung into action upon sight:

And Pinehas, son of Elazar, son of Aharon the kohen saw and he rose from the community…”

(Bemidbar 25:7).

God placed His stamp of approval upon Pinehas’s decision and action, rewarding him with the covenant of kehunah, as detailed at the onset of this week’s parashah.

At a later juncture in the parashah, God informed Moshe of his imminent death. Moshe then inquired about the nation’s future leadership, as he requested of God:

“Let the Lord, God of the spirits of all flesh, appoint a man over the community, who will go out before them and come in before them and who will lead them in and out on the march…” (27:16-17)

Moshe was seemingly inspired at this time by his knowledge of the battles that lay ahead in conquering the Land. Instead of requesting a man who was endowed with a power of insight or depth of perception, Moshe simply asked for a leader who would stand at the front of the people on their march in and out of war. Perhaps the image of Pinehas flashed through Moshe’s mind as he envisioned the future leader in the form of a man who was charged by instinctive decisions and immediate action.

God responded to Moshe:

“Take you Yehoshua bin Nun, a man who has spirit within him, and lay your hand upon him…And you shall set something of your grandeur upon him…” (27:18, 20)

Following Moshe’s description of Him as the controller of “the spirits of all flesh,” God described Yehoshua as “a man who has spirit within him.” He broadened Moshe’s narrow conception of the future leadership by highlighting Yehoshua’s “spirit,” which would necessarily compliment his military acumen. God then instructed Moshe to rest his hand upon Yehoshua in a symbolic transfer of his grandeur. His message was clear: Am Yisrael cannot be led by an individual who is singularly driven by the Pinehas-like quality of “blink decisions.” The leader must exhibit, as well, the Moshe-like quality of deliberate and thoughtful management of the people.

Malcolm Gladwell wrote that he is oftentimes asked, “When should we trust our instincts, and when should we consciously think things through?”[3] There is, of course, no simple answer. God’s message to Moshe, however, reminds us to search for a balance. While we must sometimes “blink” like Pinehas, we should other times “think” like Moshe.

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[1] Malcom Gladwell, Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking (New York, NY, 2007), pg. 284-5.

[2] Gladwell, pg. 44.

[3] Gladwell, pg. 267.

Parashat Pinehas: Puzzles & Mysteries

Puzzles & Mysteries

A Message for Parashat Pinehas 2017

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The Torah’s description of Pinehas’s courageous act of zealotry at the end of Parashat Balak and his subsequent reward at the beginning of Pinehas begs the question: Why him? Where were his great-uncle Moshe, father Elazar, uncle Itamar, seventy zekenim, Yehoshua and the other heads of tribes at this time? Pinehas was a person who was until now unpronounced in the general narrative of the Torah. Why did he emerge as the hero?

I believe that the simplest answer is that an appropriate act of zealotry of this caliber requires the performer to possess a unique level of courageousness and self-conviction. Pinehas, in contrast to the other distinguished leaders of the nation, was seemingly imbued with those inborn character traits, and was thus the single person able to act during the time of crisis.

Rashi, however, presented a different approach to this question. Citing from the Hakhamim, he described Pinehas as “seeing the act and recalling the halakhah.” He wrote that Pinehas turned to Moshe during the critical moment of sin and reminded him of a past lesson that they had learned together – “a person who commits adultery with an Armenian may be killed by zealots.” Moshe responded to Pinehas that since it was he that recalled the halakhah he too should commit the deed.[1] According to this approach, Pinehas’s uniqueness lay not in his brave reaction, but in his scholarship – or more specifically, the practical application of his scholarship. What caused the Hakhamim to sense a level of knowledge that was greater in Pinehas than in any of the surrounding leaders?

The question is strengthened when accounting for the Hakhamim’s tradition regarding the reception and transmission of the Torah. They described that when the Torah was first being taught, God would initially instruct Moshe. Aharon would then enter the room and Moshe would repeat the laws to him. Aharon would then sit next to Moshe as Moshe repeated the laws again to Elazar and Itamar, who then joined their father in listening to a third repetition to the seventy zekenim and a fourth to the rest of the nation.[2] It would seem reasonable, then, that each of these people would precede Pinehas in measure of Torah scholarship – as they were the primary receivers and participants in the transmission of the mesorah. Why was Pinehas the only one to recall the law?

Perhaps the Hakhamim were hinting at a fundamental lesson regarding the attainment of knowledge, or more specifically – knowledge of Torah.

* * * *

Hakham Ovadia Yosef z”l’ began his formal rabbinic career as a teacher and judge in Cairo, Egypt. His biographers described that period as one that was consumed by constant tension and controversy. Hakham Ovadia later explained that the extreme difficulties that he underwent during that period led to his premature departure from Egypt, following only two years of service there. Ironically, however, many scholars sense in his writings from those two years the burgeoning of his greatness. The creative beginnings of his principles in pesak and their most lucid application in teshuvot were set forth by him at that time.[3] The very period of Hakham Ovadia’s life which ostensibly left the least time for uninterrupted study was surprisingly the one that bore the most fruit in his output of Torah thought.

R. Yisrael Meir HaKohen z”l, known as “the Hafess Hayim,” who was the author of one of the most influential works of halakhah in the past century (Mishnah Berurah), owned less than forty sefarim.[4] R. Hayim Soloveitchik z”l, the father of the famous “Brisker” school of Talmud analysis never owned a full set of Talmud.[5] And R. Yosef Rosen z”l, known as “the Rogatchover,” who was arguably the most brilliant rabbinic mind of the 20^th century, had only a small bookshelf and very few sefarim that he would use on a consistent basis.[6]

The conventional perspective regarding the lives and circumstances of each of these great individuals is that they were able to accomplish their respective feats in spite of the severe odds set out against them. I wonder, however, if there is a different explanation. Perhaps the common thread that runs through the experiences of each of these rabbis – intellectual growth through a narrow medium – actually proves a rule instead of defying one.

* * * *

National security expert Gregory Treverton famously distinguished between puzzles and mysteries. He explained that even when we have difficulty solving a crossword puzzle, there is still a sense of satisfaction that accompanies the frustration. That feeling stems from the knowledge that though you can’t find the right answer, you are aware that one exists. A mystery, however, offers no such comfort. It poses a question that has no definitive answer because the answer is contingent; it depends on a future interaction of many factors – both known and unknown. Treverton explained that we approach a mystery without the hope of “answering it,” but rather of “framing it.” We seek to identify the critical factors and then apply some sense of how they have interacted in the past and how they might interact in the future.

Treverton explained, for example, that the question of whether Saddam Hussein’s Iraq possessed nuclear or chemical weapons seemed like a quintessential puzzle, and it was in fact treated that way by the U.S intelligence. And they got it wrong. He wondered, however, about what would have happened if they had instead treated it as a mystery. The U.S. intelligence would then have turned away from the technical details, and focused instead on Saddam’s thinking. That could, in turn, have raised for them the appropriate thoughts of: “Could Saddam be more afraid of his local enemies than he is of the United States? Could that lead him to boast that he had weapons he really didn’t have?”[7]

Malcolm Gladwell explained the ironic reality of mystery-solving: “Mysteries require judgments and the assessment of uncertainty, and the hard part is not that we have too little information, but that we have too much.”[8] Indeed, researchers have found that our creative capacity consistently diminishes as we age. They suggested that this is because as we grow older we amass more and more knowledge, which leads us to ignore the potential evidence that contradicts what we already think.[9]

The great twentieth century artist Alberto Giacometti described a single moment when the people around him suddenly stopped seeming like people and became temporarily unrecognizable. He felt that this was a central event in his life, as precisely when the most familiar of objects became strange to him was he able to see and grasp them properly for the first time.[10] R. Yohanan may have hinted at this fact when he stated, “Since the day the Mikdash was destroyed, prophecy was taken away from the prophets and given to madmen and young children.”[11] The lack of conventional wisdom and self-consciousness shared by madmen and children is their ironic enabler to conceiving fundamental insights akin to prophecy.[12]

* * * *

Although many of us have a will to engage in serious talmud Torah, we are often dissuaded from doing so by our own claims that “We just don’t have the time for it,” and “How much could we possibly attain in the little time that we have?” The ironic truth regarding Torah knowledge, however, is that the quantity amassed oftentimes has no bearings upon the answers derived. This reality is reflected in the fact that the Talmud rarely provides “answers” to the questions it poses, preferring instead a structured analysis of its theorems and logic. In short: Proper engagement in talmud Torah exists more as a mystery than as a puzzle.

It was for this reason that specifically Pinehas, who had probably amassed less “Torah data” than his many superiors, could solve the mystery of how to act during a time of uncertainty. Perhaps the limited mediums for amassing Torah data that were presented to the various gedolei Torah whom we enumerated above was the improbable tool that aided their systematic approach and understanding, as well.

Realizing that the key to unlocking the secrets of the Torah lies not in the quantity of time studied or data amassed but rather in an appropriate structure and approach must shift our mindsets. It is time that we realize that we can – and must – grow in our personal pursuits of serious talmud Torah.

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[1] Commentary of Rashi to Bemidbar 25:7, s.v. va-yar.

[2] Eruvin 54b.

[3] See Yaakov Sasson, Abir HaRo’im vol. 1 (Jerusalem, IS, 2012), pg. 219-220.

[4] As related by R. Moshe Shemuel Shapira, in his Zahav MiSheva vol. 1 (Jerusalem, IS, 2003), pg. 26. See, as well, R. Meir Soloveitchik z”l’s additional description in DeHazeetei LeRebbi Meir vol. 1 (Jerusalem, IS, 2018), pg. 208-9.

[5] Ibid.

[6] As reported by Dovber Schwartz, in his “The Gaon of Rogatchov: A Study in Abstraction,” Hakira, vol. 15 (Summer 2013), pg. 247.

[7] Gregory F. Treverton, “Risks and Riddles,” Smithsonian Magazine, June 2007. Accessible at: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/risks-and-riddles-154744750/.

[8] Malcolm Gladwell, What the Dog Saw (New York, NY, 2009), pg. 153-4.

[9] Alison Gopnik and Tom Griffiths, “What Happens to Creativity as We Age?” The New York Times, Aug. 19, 2017. Accessible at: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/08/19/opinion/sunday/what-happens-to-creativity-as-we-age.html.

[10] Cited by David Gelernter in Judaism: A Way of Being (New Haven, CT, 2009), pg. 79.

[11] Bava Batra 12b.

[12] This explanation was suggested by Moshe Koppel, in his Meta-Halakhah: Logic, Intuition, and the Unfolding of Jewish Law (Lanham, MD, 1997), pg. 53-4.