The Positive Side of Pesach Preparations

by Rav Netanel Yosifun, Rosh Yeshiva, Yeshivat Orot Netanya, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

I once invited over some people for a Tu B'Shvat seder, exactly two months before Passover. One of the women said she couldn't make it: "I'm too busy cleaning for Pesach…"

Fulfilling the Torah's mitzvot often takes time – some more, some less. But for Pesach, we all expend much effort and time in preparations. We clean, scrub, search and destroy every crumb of chametz (and even some that are not chametz…) that we can find. Not everyone starts quite as early as Tu B'shvat, but the idea is clear.

There are Halakhic sources for the manifold preparations for Pesach. The Gemara (Megillah 4a) tells us: "Moshe instituted that Israel should ask and study about the [current] festival: the laws of Pesach on Pesach, of Shavuot on Shavuot, and of Sukkot on Sukkot." That is, the time for this study is on the holiday itself.

But we learn in another Gemara (Pesachim 6a) that for Pesach, the time for asking and studying is 30 days before the holiday! Why is this night of Pesach different than all others?

The Beit Yosef, author of the Shulchan Arukh, answers that the laws of Pesach are very many and detailed, more than the other holidays. He also notes that many of the laws must be fulfilled even before Pesach, such as burning the chametz and the like.

In the times of the Holy Temple, the Paschal sacrifice was offered, as the Torah mandates, on the day before the holiday, and could then be eaten that night, again as the Torah mandates, at what we now call the Passover Seder. In fact, sometimes the Bible itself uses the word "Pesach" to refer to "Passover eve," the time of the sacrifice (see Rosh HaShanah 13a, Tosafot s.v. d'akrivu). Here again, we see an emphasis on the time before Pesach, the time of preparation for the holiday.

Let us delve further into the nature and importance of these preparations. To this end, let us ask the following: We know that there is a mitzvah to tell and retell the story of the Exodus on Passover. In the Haggadah we see that it must be told beginning with the g'nut, the difficult and painful parts, and ending with the shevach, the positive parts of the Redemption from the house of bondage. Why must we tell about the "preparatory" stage of the subjugation and the hardships, instead of sufficing with the happy ending?

The answer, of course, is that the difficult period during which we were enslaved in Egypt has great importance. G-d specifically, in the Covenant Between the Pieces that He forged with Avraham Avinu, assigned us to a torturous period of enslavement – and He had good reason. The purpose was that we experience the crucible of Egypt, which would strengthen and forge us into a great nation of G-d, and would also leave us with r'chush gadol, massive material possessions. In short, we would become a nation wealthy both materially and spiritually.

The emerging nation of Israel in Egypt can be likened to a fetus in its mother's womb. The fetus grows there in a phenomenal manner – proportionately much more than it will develop at any time after its birth. It begins as a solitary cell, weighing nothing, and ends up being born with a weight of several pounds! Israel, too, began in Egypt with 70 souls, and ended up numbering a few million (over 600,000 men aged 20-60, plus the other males, and women and children). This is a huge population growth, and it took place precisely during their period of subjugation. In fact, the members of the Tribe of Levy, which did not experience slavery in Egypt, multiplied less than the other tribes!

Egypt in Hebrew is Mitzrayim, similar to the word meitzarim, "narrow straits." It is thus like a pressure cooker, which amasses more and more steam inside until it finally bursts forth with tremendous power. The same happened with Israel: Its strengths and abilities increasingly grew in Egypt, finally bursting forth with tremendous power.

This is what is meant by "beginning with g'nut" – and is also the idea of the days of hard preparations before Pesach. The very engagement with Pesach and its preparations forms within us an inner process of filling ourselves with the ideas and lessons of the holiday, which, with G-d's help, will burst forth with great vigor at the Seder table and in the festival days afterwards.

And perhaps this is yet another explanation for the name of the Sabbath before Pesach, which is known as Shabbat HaGadol – because on these days we "grow" (from the root ligdol).

May we merit this year to commemorate Pesach with gadlut (greatness), in our glorious and holy Beit Mikdash!

Pikudei: The Significance of Completing the Mishkan

by Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaLevy Kilav, Yeshivat Merkaz HaRav, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The Medrash Tanchuma to this week's Torah portion of Pekudei (the end of Sh'mot) likens the Tabernacle (Mishkan) to the seven days of creation. It cites verses showing that the various elements of the Mishkan correspond to that which was created on each day. For instance, man was created on the sixth day, parallel to the High Priest anointed to serve in the Mishkan before G-d.

The deeper understanding of this comparison can be formulated as follows.

The world was created in a gradual manner, day by day, until it finally reached the creation of man – the ultimate purpose of creation – and the creation of the Sabbath, which signaled the completion of the material works. And the Tabernacle is the next step: the continuation of the creation of this world. Not only does the Mishkan sustain the world and give it the power of its existence; it itself is also another stage in the purpose of creation, embodied in the High Priest offering sacrifices in the Tabernacle to the Creator.

Permanent Mikdash and Temporary Mishkan

And for this King David says in Psalms (26,8) the words that form the basis of this Medrash: "O Lord, I love the habitation of Your house, and the dwelling place [Mishkan, in Hebrew] of Your glory." This verse has two parts, in which the first refers to the Beit HaMikdash in Jerusalem – a fully-built structure – and the second refers to the Mishkan, which is more temporary, roofed with animal skins, yeriot. The Mishkan started off in the desert, serving the nation for its 40-year journey, and was then relocated to Shilo. This is why the verse states "dwelling place" regarding it, because the place of the Mishkan is sacred only when it actually houses it – as opposed to Jerusalem, which is holy even when the Temple is not there.

However, it is precisely the yeriot that stand for the heavens [in the comparison cited in the above Medrash], and they are very connected with the creation of heaven and earth. How so? Because the Tabernacle was the spiritual completion of creation, in being the place where the Divine Presence dwelled within the camp of Israel. Thus, via the Tabernacle, the world became not only a physical place, but a place for the service of G-d.

…

Sabbath Overrides Mishkan Construction

We mentioned that the Sabbath signals the completion of physical creation, and this is linked to the Mishkan and Mikdash as well. For we know that when Moshe Rabbeinu descended from Mt. Sinai after receiving the Torah, he gathered all of Israel together (Sh'mot 35,1) to hear the Divine command to build the Mishkan – which he preceded with the mitzvah of keeping the Sabbath! The lesson was that building the Mishkan does not override the Sabbath – and in fact, every activity that was done in the process of building the Mishkan is precisely the work that is forbidden on the Sabbath. 

In any event, we see that there is a deep connection between the Sabbath and the dwelling of the Divine Presence in Israel via the Mishkan. As David writes in Psalm 92: "A song for the Sabbath day, it is good to thank G-d and to sing praise to Your name, O exalted One… For You have gladdened me with Your deeds; at Your handiwork I sing with joy." The Medrash Tanchuma at the end of Parashat Pekudei explains that these "deeds" and "handiwork" refer, respectively, to the Mishkan and to the Holy Temple. The Medrash also relates other verses there to the Mishkan, as explained below. 

The Patriarch Yitzchak and our Teacher Moshe 

The Medrash also teaches that the date chosen to commemorate the construction of the Mishkan was Rosh Chodesh Nissan, the date on which Yitzchak Avinu was born. In addition, no one was able to actually erect the Mishkan; it kept falling down – because G-d wanted to credit Moshe with the actual construction, as is written: "Moshe put up the Mishkan" (Sh'mot 40,18).

The Sages explain that actually, even Moshe was unable to put up the Mishkan – and G-d finally told him to act as if he was building it, but that He Himself would actually cause it to be built by itself. For as we have explained, the Mishkan is a continuation of Creation, connecting the world to its Creator, and serving as the source of life. And just like Creation is only of G-d, so too is the construction of the Mishkan. The more "physical" parts of the Mishkan – its various utensils – were dealt with by the Israelites and not Moshe; but the exalted Mishkan itself, which is "closer" to G-d, was the domain of Moshe, for it enabled the Divine to dwell within Israel. Only Moshe, whom the Torah terms "the man of G-d," and who received the Torah on high and brought it down to earth, can actually be involved in the Mishkan and its final construction.

Why was the Mishkan built specifically on the birthdate of Yitzchak? Because he was to G-d an "unblemished sacrifice" – the term used by the Medrash to explain why G-d told him to never leave the Land of Israel. His birthday, therefore, is the most appropriate for the establishment of G-d's presence in the world. Yitzchak was the first to offer himself up to G-d, at the famous Binding of Yitzchak, and therefore he is the source for Israel's ability to totally cleave to G-d – the very strength of the Mikdash.

The Wicked Ones Don't Get It

Psalm 92 continues with the idea that "a fool cannot understand [that] when the wicked blossom… it is to destroy them for eternity." The Medrash explains that when the Israelites failed at first in building the Mishkan, the wicked of the generation mocked and scorned Moshe - but they did not understand G-d's ways; they did not know that when wickedness abounds, there can be no perfect dwelling of the Divine Presence on earth. Only when "Your enemies shall perish" and "a righteous man flourishes like a palm tree… planted in the House of G-d, flourishing in the courtyards of our G-d…"

And just like the Mishkan in the desert, so too with the Beit HaMikdash in the future. Just as the Mishkan had to wait until Yitzchak's birthdate, and for G-d to build it Himself, so too in the future when evil is broken, the House of G-d will be established by G-d Himself – and will then last forever, never to be destroyed. Its sanctity will be unique, and will itself guarantee the permanence of the final Beit Mikdash.

The Sabbath and the Holy Temple

Both the Sabbath and the holy Temple service have elements of the World to Come, each one on its own level. This is why Moshe spoke of the Sabbath even before the Mishkan, in order to say that the actions of one should not nullify the sanctity of the other. And the Sages added that the "partner" of the Sabbath is Torah study. They cited the verse, "For from Zion shall go forth Torah, and G-d's word from Jerusalem" (Isaiah 2,3); the deepest expression of Jerusalem and the Temple is G-d's word, the Torah that comes forth from Jerusalem. These three – Shabbat, Mikdash, and Torah – are the "triple strand" that will never unravel.

The Message of the Red Cow, Despite All

by Rav Chaim Navon, rabbi, philosopher, writer, and publicist, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Rabban Yochanan's explanation of an incomprehensible statute – and the students' response

Our Torah reading this week includes the section called Parashat Parah. It deals with the laws of the Red Heifer (Parah Adumah), via which one who has been defiled by contact with a corpse can be purified (when the Holy Temple in Jerusalem stood and functioned). The laws of the Red Heifer are the archetype of laws that cannot be explained with mortal logic.

A woman who was in the process of becoming religiously observant once approached our late saintly Rosh Yeshiva [of Yeshivat Har Etzion], Rabbi Yehuda Amital, with a question. She said she would like to be able to observe all the commandments, but it would be hard for her to accept all of them all at once. Her question was: "What mitzvot should I start with?"

Rabbi Amital opened a book and showed her the following Midrashic teaching of our Sages. In Marah, somewhere in the Sinai Desert, the newly-freed Children of Israel accepted upon themselves, even before receiving the Torah at Sinai, three individual mitzvot. Rashi to Sh'mot 15,25 says that the three were Shabbat, the Red Heifer, and monetary laws.

Rav Amital added that what makes this set of mitzvot unique is that one of the three, Shabbat, is "between man and G-d;" another one, monetary law, is "between man and man;" and the third, the Red Heifer, has no rational explanation. "And you, too," Rav Amital said to the woman, "should take upon yourself three mitzvot: one between man and G-d, one between man and man, and one that you don't understand and don't expect to understand – and in this way you will learn from the get-go that Judaism demands both understanding and obedience."

In the eyes of our Sages, the passage of the Parah Adumah is the classic representative of all mitzvot that we cannot comprehend. Even King Solomon, the wisest of man, gave up trying to understand it: "Shlomo said, I left no teaching in the world not-understood, but when I got to Parah Adumah – I said, 'I will become wise, but it was too far from me'" (Proverbs 7,23).

The Ramban [to D'varim 22,6] emphasizes, however, that this does not mean that the mitzvah of Parah Adumah has no justification or explanation at all, and that it is simply arbitrary and exists just for the sake of blind obedience. Heaven forbid to even say such a possibility. Rather, every mitzvah has both rhyme and reason – even if they are sometimes not accessible to us.

The Talmud tells of a gentile who once challenged Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai regarding the illogic in the mitzvah of Parah Adumah. He claimed that mixing the cow's ashes with hyssop and the like in order to purify people was mere superstition. Rabban Yochanan countered by asking him, "Have you ever seen a man possessed by an evil spirit?" The gentile said yes. "What do you do in such circumstances?" The gentile replied, "We perform an exorcism. We light a fire, bring roots, make smoke, sprinkle water on the affected person, and the spirit flees." "Let your ears hear what you are saying!" exclaimed Rabban Yochanan. "Our Red Heifer ceremony is also a form of exorcism for one possessed by an unclean spirit."

The gentile accepted the answer, but Rabban Yocḥanan’s students did not: "You drove him away with mere straw,” they said, “but what will you answer us?” That is, they knew that this was not the true answer. They wanted to know the logic of the ceremony in terms of Judaism itself!

R. Yocḥanan answered directly: “By your lives! A dead body does not defile, and the waters of the Red Heifer do not purify. Rather, G-d simply says: 'I have ordained a decree, I have issued a statute, and you have no permission to transgress it. As is written, This is the statute of the Torah.'" (Medrash Badmidbar Rabba 19,8)

Contrary to what some academic circles believe, this Medrash is not saying that there is actually no logic at all to the Torah's commands. Rather, when Rabban Yochanan says that a corpse does not defile, he means that impurity and purity do not reflect reality as we perceive it. These states are rather a halakhic abstraction. It could be, for example, that G-d wants us to stay away from the dead, and therefore decreed that one who touches a corpse becomes halakhically tamei, impure – just as on the Sabbath, certain items are muktzeh and may not be moved. Neither the tamei person nor the muktzeh item has changed in any real way; only their halakhic status has changed.

There are those who lean towards explaining the Torah's mitzvot in "realistic" terms: Unkosher meat is "not healthful," impurity is "transparent dirt," and the like. The danger in this approach is that the Torah becomes merely a tool to serve us, and then leads us to think in terms of black magic and the like. To counter this, Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai states clearly: Parah Adumah is not a "real" phenomenon, but rather represents G-d's infinite and eternal wisdom.

This can be proven from the Torah's command regarding "leprosy of a house" (Vayikra 14,36). When the priest comes to possibly declare a house "impure," he first orders the house cleared of all items – just in case he will have to declare the house impure, which would then render everything in it impure as well. If we view impurity as some kind of metaphysical dirt in the real world, what good does it do to remove the items from the house after they were already "infected?"

Rather, as we said: Impurity is not physically real, but rather Halakhic; the Torah does not come to tell us the reality, but rather comes to shape it.

What primarily amazes me in this Medrash is the reaction of the students. They catch on right away that the "magic" answer has nothing to it; what satisfies them is rather the idea that we cannot understand G-d's ways. It appears to me, unfortunately, that today's students would respond the opposite. The mature, developed answer regarding the limitations of mortal logic would appear to them to be a weak, "straw" answer, while the "magical" explanation would appeal to today's generation. And I fear that this slightly childish approach attracts not only our younger students.

This is another proof that the spiritual world of our Sages of blessed memory, 2,000 years ago, was richer and more mature than ours today.

Vayakhel: Getting into the Other Guy's Head

by Rav Hillel Mertzbach, Rabbi of the Central Synagogue, Yad Binyamin, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Three weeks ago, when we read Parashat Terumah, we learned G-d's detailed instructions as to how to build the Tabernacle. This week, in Parashat VaYak'hel (Sh'mot 35,1-38,20), we read how these instructions were carried out, under the leadership of master builder Betzalel. What were Betzalel's qualifications for this important job? Moshe introduced him to the Children of Israel as follows:

"G-d has selected Betzalel ben Uri ben Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and has filled him with the spirit of G-d, with wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, and [a talent for all types of] craftsmanship, able to think thoughts [or: devise plans], to work with gold, silver, and bronze..." (35,30-31)

What is meant by the phrase, "to think thoughts?"

The Gemara (Tr. Brachot 55a) tells us that Betzalel was given his name after he heard one thing and sough to do something else:

      When G-d said to Moshe, "Go say to Bezalel, 'Make a tabernacle, an ark, and vessels'” (31,7–11), Moshe reversed the order and told Betzalel, 'Make an ark and vessels, and a tabernacle” [see chapters 25-26].

     Betzalel said: "Moshe, our teacher, generally a person builds a house and only afterward places the vessels in the house – yet you say to me: Make an ark and vessels, and a tabernacle. If I do so, where will I put the vessels that I make? Could it be that G-d told you to make a tabernacle [first and then] an ark and vessels?”

     Moshe said [admiringly] to Betzalel: "Could it be that you were in G-d’s shadow [b'tzel E-l] when He spoke to me and that's how you knew precisely what He said?"

Betzalel's reasoning was logical and correct. And this raises an important question: If G-d told Moshe a particular order, why did he tell Betzalel a different one?

R. Baruch HaLevi Epstein, the early 20^th-century author of the "Torah Temimah," answers that G-d actually commanded Moshe twice – once according to this order, and once according to the other. Not knowing what to do, Moshe reasoned that since the purpose of the Mishkan was to house G-d's Divine Presence, and since the chief focus of the Divine Presence was over the Holy Ark, it is logical that the Holy Ark be built first. But Betzalel said that it would not be respectful to have the Ark wait outside while the Mishkan was being built.

In sum, Moshe thought that it would be more respectful to first build that which is the ultimate objective, namely, the Tabernacle. But Betzalel felt the opposite. [As we know, the respect that we show to various holy items has no effect on them, but only on us who observe the "respect" that is being accorded them.] He thought that if people see the holy items waiting outside, that itself would be a lack of respect.

Betzalel thought in terms of how people would view the situation. He took the practical approach: What would be the result of building the Ark first?

Perhaps this, then, is what the Torah means in saying that Betzalel was a man who "thought thoughts." He saw ahead and envisioned what people would think, what emotions they would feel, and how this might change the entire situation.

When Israel was commanded to prepare a Tabernacle for the Divine Presence, it was specifically Betzalel who was Divinely chosen to build it – because the ability to bring the Presence upon Israel includes not only knowing what to do, but what his acts will cause people to think and feel. Betzalel was a man with a heart that felt the hearts of the people around him.

Here are some examples to illustrate this trait.

It is told that a man came to ask his rabbi the following question: "Can I fulfill the mitzvah of the Four Cups on Passover night with milk instead of wine?" The rabbi pulled out a large sum of money and gave it to him, saying, "Go and buy yourself food for the Seder." His wife later asked, "Why did you give so much?" The rabbi answered, "His question made me realize that he wasn't planning to eat meat during the entire meal [for then he wouldn't be able to drink milk], which means that he doesn't have money even for meat and other holiday expenses…"

It is also told of one of the heads of the Mirrer Yeshiva that a man stopped him on the street to ask for directions. The rabbi walked with the man all the way to his destination. One of the students later asked him why he didn't just suffice with telling him how to get there. The rabbi said, "I saw that he had a speech impediment and that he hesitated before asking me. I didn't want him to have to ask someone else along his way, so I walked with him to where he wanted to go."

How to Overcome Strife?

A man once told me that he was very insulted that a neighbor of his had not invited him to his son's wedding. I said to him, "Let's try to think of it from his point of view. He has a large family, and he had to invite all of them, plus others in various circles, etc., etc." The man gradually calmed down and realized how hard it would have been for him to invite him.

In various arguments and disputes, if we stand back, we can easily identify the root cause: Each side thinks only of his own standpoint.

This week's Torah portion teaches us to be wise, like Betzalel. We must "think thoughts" regarding what's in the other guy's head. Doing this can help avoid many disputes. The next time we are inclined to get upset at or offended by someone – even by another driver on the road – let's stop for a second and try to think what the other guy is thinking. That's the key to truly bringing the Divine Presence to dwell in our midst.

The Month of Adar: Clearing the Table

by Rav Aviad Gadot, an IDF Captain (reserves) and former Head of the Combat Engineering Training Base, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

A little-known tractate in the Talmud is Shekalim, right after the tractate of Pesachim (though in the Jerusalem Talmud it follows Megillah). It begins by discussing all the tasks that must be done in the public space in the month of Adar:

"On the first day of Adar, the Beit Din (court) announces regarding the collection of shekels [the annual half-shekel obligatory contribution to the Temple treasury], and also regarding the obligation to uproot kil'ayim [forbidden mixtures of crops in gardens and fields]. And on the 15^th of Adar, the Scroll of Esther is read in the cities [that had been surrounded by walls from the time of Joshua bin Nun]. They also repair the roads and streets that were damaged in the winter, and the cisterns, and they do whatever is needed for the public welfare, and they mark the Jewish gravesites anew; and the court's agents would even go out regarding kil'ayim [see explanation below]."

The obligation to give half-shekalim to the Holy Temple is of Biblical origin, as we read in the Torah this past Shabbat from a passage in Parashat Ki Tisa. The Torah does not note, however, the exact time for the collection of the coins.

The Rambam writes: "It is a Torah commandment for every Israelite man to donate a half-shekel every year. This includes even a poor man who is supported by charity… The Torah states, 'The wealthy shall not give more [than a half-shekel] and the poor shall not give less' … It shall be given all at once, and not in installments."

The mitzvah is a personal one upon each individual. This is why initially, the Beit Din simply "announces" this law, as a reminder that each person must fulfill his obligation to give a half-shekel.

The Gemara in Tractate Megillah explains that the purpose of this mitzvah has to do with an additional, general obligation to offer "new" sacrifices on Rosh Chodesh Nissan, right after Adar. That is, on this day we start to purchase the public sacrifices from the new annual collection of shekalim, and therefore the court announces the obligation a month earlier to give enough time to collect the contributions. As the new year [of months] begins in Nissan, the service of G-d in the Temple will be performed on the basis of a renewed national dedication.

The second mitzvah that we recall on Rosh Chodesh Adar is the prohibition to mix certain type of grain and fruit, known as kil'ayim. This is a Biblical obligation in the Land of Israel.

That is, at this time we direct not only our hearts and minds to the Holy Mount in Jerusalem via the half-shekalim, but also to our careful fulfillment of the details of the law regarding what we raise in the fields of the Holy Land in general. The land has awakened from its winter sleep, when weeds and other growths proliferated wildly, and we now begin to plant in an intentional, mindful manner.

Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888) explains in his commentary on the Torah: "On the first of Adar the Court would announce regarding kil'ayim; this is the time when the grains have sprouted all over, and emissaries of the Beit Din would even go out to warn the field-owners to clean their fields of kil'ayim. They would say: 'Keep in mind that this is the land of the Torah, and the rules of G-d's Torah apply here.'"

This helps us understand the continuation of the Mishna, which states that in Adar the emissaries of the Sages and the Beit Din also begin to take care of "all the needs of the many." This includes the preparations for the masses of Israelites who are about to fulfill the Biblical obligation to ascend to Jerusalem to "see the face of G-d" [based on Sh'mot 23,15 and other verses]. The roads are widened, and the mikvaot are refurbished so that they can purify themselves as required. What else is included in "all the needs of the many?"

The Jerusalem Talmud elaborates (Shekalim 1,1): "Judging monetary cases, and cases that involve capital punishment and lashes, and receiving dedicated donations to the Temple, and dealing with the Sotah, and burning the Red Heifer, and judging eglah arufah, eved ivri, metzora…"

Essentially, what we see is that when the month of Adar begins, the courts are very busy with cases that may have piled up over the year, in a drive to "clear the table," on both the communal and individual planes. These important "fixes" are of course not limited to Adar or Nissan. Rather, the Mishna is apparently telling us that these Biblical mitzvot of Shekalim and kil'ayim are stepping-stones to a rectification of all aspects of life. It can be likened to the pulses of the heart that send the blood streaming to the entire body.  

Perhaps this explains why when we give our half-shekalim on the day before Purim nowadays, the money is not used only for the needs of the poor, but towards any cause that helps increase the proliferation of Torah in the Jewish community (see Rav Ovadiah Yosef's responsum in Yechaveh Daat I, 86).

May G-d bless us that we see the rebuilding of the Holy Temple, with Priests serving there, Levites making music, and the other Israelites at their stations as well.