Listen to our shiurim on Masekhet Megilah from this past week!
Friday, October 26, 2018
Parashat VaYera: "Here I Am!"
"Here I Am!"
Thoughts on VaYera 2018
Click here to view as PDF
We
are unknown to ourselves, we knowers – and with good reason. We have never
looked for ourselves – so how are we ever supposed to find ourselves? (Friedrich
Nietzsche)[1]
In
order for the trial to be authentic, it would necessitate that Avraham act
totally within the limits of his free will. This is borne out by the not
insignificant detail that Avraham was addressed by his personal name. (R. Avraham
Y. Kook)[2]
The
formative years of Avraham’s life are bookended by parallel episodes. His first
and last dialogues with God were each initiated by the command of lekh lekha
– “go forth.” Both missions entailed separating from family – at first leaving
his “land, birthplace and father’s home” (Ber. 12:2) and later parting with
Yisshak at the Akedah (22:2). And each of the trials was accompanied by
God’s subsequent promise of blessing and bountiful offspring.
Avraham
is the personality in the Torah who is most often associated with hesed.
He demonstrated that trait by caring for and mentoring his nephew Lot, begging
Sarah not to send away Yishmael, and sitting at his tent’s entrance in search
of needy travelers. Ironically, however, most of his life’s critical moments were
actually characterized by separation from others. In a life framed by
the famous departures of lekh lekha, Avraham was forcibly separated from
his wife Sarah upon descent into Egypt, from Lot upon return to Canaan and from
Yishmael when he finally settled down. What was God’s intended message to
Avraham with those many separations?
Consider the Zohar’s unique
explanation of God’s initial command to Avraham:
R.
Shimon said: … ‘Lekh lekha’ – To perfect yourself. ‘From your land’ – From the
place of dwelling within you, in which you consider the wisdom with which you
were born. ‘To the land that I will show you’ – There it will be revealed to
you that which you seek, the power that is appointed over it (the land), which
is deep and hidden.[3]
God’s
repeated command of lekh lekha entailed more than a simple call to “go
forth” (lekh). It called for a courageous act of individuality (lekha).
He challenged Avraham to “go for himself,” forcing him to struggle
through the difficult process of identifying himself. “This verse is
addressed to every person,” the great kabbalist R. Moshe Zacuto wrote. It
teaches us to “Search and discover the root of your soul, so that you can
fulfill it and restore it to its source; its essence.”[4]
Albert
Einstein once marveled at the potential for individuality: “To see with one’s
own eyes, to feel and judge without succumbing to the suggestive power of the
fashion of the day, to be able to express what one has seen and felt in a trim
sentence or even in a cunningly wrought word – is that not glorious?”[5]
But the best-selling author and psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s expressed
the difficulties that are posed to self-expression by of our lives as social beings:
It is relatively
easy to become involved with a job, to enjoy the company of friends, to be
entertained in a theater or at a concert. But what happens when we are left to
our own devices? Alone, when the dark night of the soul descends, are we forced
into frantic attempts to distract the mind from its coming? Or are we able to
take on activities that are not only enjoyable, but make the self grow?[6]
Although
Avraham was naturally inclined to surround himself with others – as a mentor,
guide and leader, God time and again forced him to distance himself from them
and grapple with the important questions: Who am I? and What are my
true convictions and beliefs?
R.
Joseph B. Soloveitchik z”l reflected upon the unique challenge posed by the
modern world to our self-identity and expression. “Urban life has contributed
to the anonymity and loneliness-experience of the individual,” he wrote, “What
man fails to comprehend is not the world around him, but the world within him,
particularly his destiny, and the needs of which he is supposed to have a clear
awareness.” Our constant thought and speech about “what we need” is misleading.
We misunderstand ourselves. And that leads us in the wrong direction along
the route of life. R. Soloveitchik explained: “Man responds quickly to the
pressure of certain needs, not knowing whose needs he is out to gratify…adoption
of a wrong table of needs is a part of the human tragic destiny.”[7]
The
challenge is real. Distracted by others, we lose sight of our true identity.
How can we regain our focus and discover the inner-self that lies beneath? R.
Norman Lamm once remarked: “I have never known a really creative person who did
not precede the creative act with at least a moment of profound, thoughtful
solitude.” He explained that our creative spirit is forged “in the silence of
the mind when the outside world is shout out.”[8]
In the presence of others it would be difficult for Avraham to distinguish his
individual thoughts from those of the group. In solitude, his true self could emerge.
Approaching
Avraham for his final challenge at the Akedah, God prefaced the command
by calling out his name: “Avraham!” (22:1) He challenged Avraham to answer the
call of his true self-identity. And Avraham courageously responded “Hineni
– Here I am!” His single-word response reflected his confidence in completing
the ultimate test of his life’s mission – self-identity. “One is tempted to
suggest that Abraham, by responding as he does, almost passes the test even
before it begins,” Leon Kass wrote, “he knows who is calling and before whom he
stands and he makes himself fully available to a source beyond himself.”[9]
As
the frightening encounter atop the mountain neared its end, God’s messenger reappeared
to Avraham and addressed him: “Avraham, Avraham!” Avraham then understood that
his life’s mission was complete. Having achieved a genuine self-identity, he
became the model for future seekers of God. And so, he confidently responded “Hineni
– Here I am!”
[1] Preface to On the Genealogy of Morals (Cambridge,
UK, 2017).
[2] The Koren Rav Kook Siddur (Jerusalem, IS, 2017), pg. 53.
[3] Zohar, Parashat Lekh Lekha, 76b.
[4] Printed in R. Shalom Buzaglo’s Mikdash Melekh (Bnei
Brak, IS, 1974), 1:70b. Translated by Daniel C. Matt, The Essential
Kabbalah: The Heart of Jewish Mysticism (New York, NY, 1983), pg. 127.
[5] Albert Einstein, Ideas and Opinions (New
York, NY, 1994), pg. 18.
[6] Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow:
The Psychology of Optimal Experience (New York, NY, 1990), pg. 171.
[7] R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “Redemption, Prayer,
Talmud Torah,” in Confrontation and Other Essays (New Milford, CT,
2015), pg. 71-72.
[8] R. Norman Lamm, Festivals of Faith:
Reflections on the Jewish Holidays (New York, NY, 2011), pg. 221, and Derashot
LeDorot: Shemot (New Milford, CT, 2013), pg. 48.
[9] Leon R. Kass, The Beginning of Wisdom
(Chicago, IL, 2003), pg. 335.
Tuesday, October 23, 2018
Parashat VaYera: Paradoxes
The "Mehissah"
Listen to last night's class, "The Mehissah," here.
Follow along with the sources here.
For further research:
Read R. Moshe Feinstein's relevant teshuvot in their "original": a) Igerot Moshe 1.39, b) Igerot Moshe 1.41-44.
Sunday, October 21, 2018
Derekh HaShem: 1.2
Friday, October 19, 2018
Parashat Lekh Lekha: Movement
Movement
Thoughts on Lekh Lekha 2018
Click here to view as PDF
Is
there a man who travels and does not know to what destination he travels? (Midrash)[1]
He who
has attained to only some degree of freedom of mind cannot feel other than a
wanderer on the earth – though not as a traveler to a final destination: for
this destination does not exist. (Friedrich Nietzsche)[2]
I love
to travel but I hate to arrive. (Albert Einstein)[3]
We read about Avraham’s initial
journey at the end of Parashat Noah:
And Terah took Avram his son and
Lot son of Haran, his grandson, and Sarai his daughter-in-law, the wife of his
son Abrahm, and he set out with them from Ur Casdim toward the land of Canaan… (11:31)
His travel contrasted with the
Torah’s preceding episode of Migdal Bavel:
…And it happened as they
journeyed from the East they found a valley in the land of Shinar and settled
there … And they said, “Come, let us build us a city and a tower with its top
in the heavens that we may make us a name, lest we be scattered over all the
earth.” (11:2,4)
Unlike his surrounding society’s
attempt to settle, Avraham was determined to move.
Parashat Lekh Lekha continues the story of Avraham’s journeys, as God then
commanded that he “Go forth” from his familiar habitat toward a land which He
would show (12:1). Avraham’s life as a journeyman had thus begun. He soon
descended to Egypt during famine (12:10), fulfilled God’s repeated commands of
“Rise, walk about the land” (13:17) and “Walk in My presence and be blameless”
(17:1), and ultimately rose to the occasion of “Go forth to the land of Moriah”
(22:2). Significantly, it was upon these very paths that Avraham encountered
God. In a constant search for the Almighty during his lifetime, Avraham would
find Him – learning about God’s ways and understanding His essence – along
those desolate trails of his travels.
How did Avraham’s “journeys into
the unknown” lead him to God?
Consider the recurrent theme of movement
in many of our common expressions regarding thought: We “let our thoughts wander,”
while “thinking on our feet” and “arriving at a
conclusion.” John Kaag explained: “These are no simple figures of speech, but
reflect a type of mental openness that can be achieved only on the move.”
Noting the words of the eighteenth-century philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau,
“I never do anything but when walking, the countryside is my study,” Kaag
remarked: “The history of philosophy is largely the history of thought in
transit.”[4]
By marching away from the world
that he knew and into one that he did not, Avraham’s eyes and mind were opened
to a greater understanding of God and His world. R. Zvi Grumet elaborated:
Abram’s search for the place is not a test of his obedience to
God, it is an essential element of how he will become who he will become. The
search for, and ultimately the discovery of, the land, is empowering. Abram is
not shown the land; he must figure out how to discern it.[5]
Indeed, even prior to any
specific instruction from God, he had detected the mistake of the builders of Migdal
Bavel. He understood that their passion for stability would lead to a
stagnant life of stunted growth. And so, he began a life of discovery through
movement.
Avraham’s life teaches us about the
importance of constant movement in our lives. It shows that the hidden aspects
of life can only be found upon the paths of our personal journeys of lekh
lekha.
[1] Tanhumah: Lekh Lekha 3.
[2] Human, All Too Human: A Book for Free Spirits (Cambridge,
UK, 1986), pg. 203.
[3] Recalled by John Wheeler, in Albert
Einstein: His Influence on Physics, Philosophy and Politics (Braunschweig,
GE, 1979), pg. 202.
[4] John Kaag, Hiking with
Nietzsche: On Becoming Who You Are (New York, NY, 2018), pg. 27. See there,
as well, pg. 132-4.
[5] R. Zvi Grumet, Genesis: From Creation to
Covenant (New Milford, CT, 2017), pg. 134.
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