Emuna: What We Lose in the Exile

by Rav Avihu Schwartz, Yeshivat Merkaz HaRav Kook, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The days rush by quickly, and here we are in the thick of the Three Weeks mourning period for both the First and Second Holy Temples, 2,500 and 2,000 years ago, respectively. In Hebrew, this period is known as Bein HaMetzarim, "Between the Straits," based on Eichah (Lamentations) 1,3.  

These are days not only of mourning, but also of increased anticipation for our complete Redemption. The crux of Redemption is our total return – teshuvah – to ourselves and our essence. To understand Redemption, let us begin with Exile, which is depicted by the Prophet Yechezkel in the first verses of his book as follows: 

It came to pass [in Hebrew: Vay'hi] in the thirtieth year in the fourth [month] on the fifth day of the month, with me in the Exile by the river Kvar: the heavens opened up, and I saw visions of G-d… This was the fifth year of King Yehoyachin's exile." (1,2)

Our Sages teach that the first word here, vay'hi, often signifies deep sorrow. As our esteemed Rabbi and Teacher Tzvi Yehuda HaCohen Kook, of saintly blessed memory, taught: "The initial letter vuv with the patah vowel of vay'hi is a tense-changing vuv, and thus turns what follows (y'hi, meaning "will be") from future into past. This is the greatest sorrow of all: the turning of our glorious national future into the past."

The prophecy that Yechezkel begins with was, as stated above, delivered in the fourth month in the year, namely, Tammuz, the month we are in now. This introductory verse emphasizes that Yechezkel was "in the exile" in Babylon. And thus this great prophetic work begins by emphasizing the deep sadness that the Exile brings about. 

HaRav A. I. Kook, father of Rav Tzvi Yehuda and the first Chief Rabbi of modern-day Eretz Yisrael, elaborated further with great profundity in his work Orot HaKodesh (Vol. 3, p. 140): 

"Yechezkel said, 'I was in the Exile' – referring to the very essence of "I," of both the individual and the community… Adam's sin happened when he became estranged to his essence and accepted the serpent's opinion, thus losing himself, unable to answer clearly the [Divine] question, 'Where are you?' (B'reshit 3,9)." 

This, then, is the core of the Exile: loss of our selfhood. When we return to it, this is the root of Redemption, as Rav Kook the father continues there: 

"Eichah 4,20 describes the Messiah of G-d as the very breath of our nostrils – and this is his might and the splendor of his greatness. It is not external to us, it is our own spirit; we seek the Mashiach and David our King... It is ourselves that we are seeking and will find…" 

The anticipation and longing for the kingdom of Mashiach son of David is itself the quest for our identity, for ourselves, as Rav Kook explained (Shmoneh Kvatzim 5, 157). He writes there that the Messiah is the greatest level of the internal selfhood of all of Israel.

But it is often asked: Is it really possible or realistic to sit in anticipation of the Messiah every single day? After all, we see that the Prime Minister is well entrenched in his office and there seems to be no apparent path to his replacement in the near future. And another, more general question: Is our nation ready for the Messiah? Are we prepared for the Beit HaMikdash, including sacrificial offerings and laws of impurity? 

These are all logical questions. So what? Ever since we became a people, from the days of our Patriarchs, we have come to learn that the Master of the Universe, the King of Kings, is the One Who runs His world - not necessarily in step with human logic. Did not our Sages teach us, in their Divine wisdom, that "a Sage is greater than a Prophet"? The Talmud states as follows: 

The Messiah will not come until they despair from the Redemption, as is stated, "their power is decreasing, with no protection or help" (D'varim 32,36), as if there were no supporter or helper for the Jewish People. This is as Rabbi Zera would do when he found Sages engaging in discussions about the coming of the Messiah; he would say to them: "Please, I ask of you, do not delay his coming by calculating the end of days. For as we learn in a baraita: There are three matters that come only when our attention is diverted from them, and they are: The Messiah, a lost item, and a scorpion." (Sanhedrin 97a)

R. Zera was saying that by calculating the time of the Mashiach's arrival, the scholars were not enabling themselves to be surprised by his coming. 

Thus, the Sages teach us that only when we have despaired from salvation – which happens when we lack good leadership and therefore cannot set our path correctly – precisely then is when the descendant of David will come. And the Gemara continues by bringing a baraita [Tannaitic text] that teaches that the Messiah specifically comes when we are not ready for him, just as a scorpion arrives on the scene, as far as humans are concerned, by total surprise, and the same is true for one who finds a lost object on the street.  

The holy Maharal of Prague explains (Netzach Yisrael, chapter 40) that in general, the world is conducted in what appears to be a logical order. However, there are cases that don't belong to the regular scheme of things, and they are represented by the above three cases: The scorpion is a negative example of that which is abnormal; finding a lost object is a positive example; and Mashiach symbolizes the higher-world level of that which is beyond our world. As the Maharal writes there (Chapter 17), "the King Messiah is of a level from the Upper World" – and that is why his appearance is sudden and abrupt, separate from the natural order of things.

So, too, taught us our teacher Rav Tzvi Yehuda in Tammuz 1981, as [I wrote in] HaTorah HaGoelet Vol. 2, p. 211: 

"The Prophet Elijah, Eliyahu HaNavi, is on a very great spiritual level… His personage remains with us throughout all the generations, as he is quoted in the Gemara, in the Halakha, and in the Aggadah, wherever it says, 'Tanna d'vei Eliyahu,' meaning, 'It was taught in the academy of Eliyahu.' From here progresses the bond between Eliyahu and Mashiach, a bond of miraculous revelation. The Gemara says that the Mashiach will come when we are not "paying attention," meaning in a wondrous manner. The students asked what that means precisely, and Rav Tzvi Yehuda answered by quoting this verse: 'Behold I send My angel, and he will clear a way before Me. And suddenly, the Lord Whom you seek will come to His Temple' (Malachi 3,1)."

Pinchas: G-d's Honor: Connecting Pinchas and the Three Weeks

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

It is told of one of the great Torah scholars of Israel that in his childhood, he would study Gemara (Talmud) with his father. Before every holiday, they would study the tractate that had to do with that holiday: P'sachim before Pesach, Sukkah before Sukkot, and the like. One year, around the beginning of the Counting of the Omer, his father asked him: "OK, which tractate shall we study now?" The boy answered: "Let's study Tractate Sh'vuot, in preparation for the festival of Shavuot."

His father responded that the boy seemed to be confusing sh'vuot, which means "oaths," and Shavuot, which refers to the Shavuot holiday: "Tractate Sh'vuot does not deal with the holiday," he told his son, "but with the prohibition of swearing in vain and lying and the like."

The boy replied, "Yes, I know that. However, when we stood at Mount Sinai to receive the Torah, we swore to fulfill all the mitzvot. As the Talmud teaches, we may not make a vow to fulfill a mitzvah - because we are already bound by the oath that we took at Sinai; we "stand bound by our oath from Sinai." As such, so that we may internalize the greatness of the obligation we accepted upon ourselves at Mount Sinai on the day of the Shavuot holiday when we received the Torah, we must prepare for that holiday now by studying the Sh'vuot tractate…" 

Every year we read Parashat Pinchas at the beginning of the Three Weeks, which is the mourning period for the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash (the Holy Temple) and the exile of Israel. Just as we saw that Shavuot and sh'vuot share in the same important message, it seems that this is also true for Parashat Pinchas and the Three Weeks: they share the message of the centrality of the Beit HaMikdash – as we will explain.

It would seem that in order for us to be able to mourn the destruction of the Holy Temple, we must first learn how important it is. But even before that, we must learn something even more basic: how to get out of our own four cubits, and become people who "really care." 

Our goal must be to be people who care about the Nation of Israel, about the desecration of G-d's name in the world, and about the Exile of the Divine Presence.

This means that learning about the importance of the Temple alone is not enough. For one could say to himself: "The Temple is fascinating, but what does it really have to do with me? How does it concern me?" Or he might even go one step further and say, "Sure, it's important for me to serve G-d – but that's my personal service, and it's for me to concentrate on. But what connection is there between me and the Holy Temple and the revelation of G-d's name in the world??"

In order to answer, or obviate, these questions, what we must do first is develop a sense of really caring about the revelation of G-d's name in the world.

The Ramchal (R. Moshe Chaim Luzatto, 18th century, Italy) wrote about this in his classic work "The Path of the Just," chapter 19, as follows: 

"He whose motivation in his service of G-d is to purify his soul so that he will be worthy of sitting among the Just and the Pious… and receive the reward of the World to Come – we certainly cannot say that his motive is evil. But we also cannot say that this is the best of motives, because when a person is thinking about his own benefit, his service is ultimately for his own self-interest. 

"Rather, the true intention found among the pious who have labored and strived to achieve it, is that the honor of G-d should increase and multiply..."

That is, the highest level in the service of G-d is to desire that His name should be revealed in the world. Such intention will lead and enable one to mourn over the destruction of the Temple, which represents this Divine honor. As the Ramchal wrote in the above work in the name of Tanna Dvei Eliyahu: 

"Every sage of Israel who has attained true Torah knowledge, and grieves over G-d's honor, the honor of Israel, and the honor of Jerusalem and the Holy Temple, and longs for Israel's redemption and the ingathering of the exiles – he will merit to have G-d's spirit of holiness upon his words."

The Ramchal adds there that we should not say: "How can I expect to accomplish anything in this area? Will my prayer make a difference? Can it actually bring about an ingathering of the exiles and redemption?" The answer is - yes! It was precisely about this that the Sages taught (Tr. Sanhedrin p. 68): "Why was Man created alone? So that everyone could say, 'for me the world was created'."

And this is exactly the background from which Pinchas arose. Pinchas was the man who stopped a plague in Israel by killing Zimri ben Salu who sinned publicly with a daughter of Moav. He could have said, as many have said after him, "Who am I? I'm not in charge here. I am not the Sanhedrin and not the king, and it's not my job to solve the problem of Zimri ben Salu." But he was a man who cared, and therefore he was the only one who could resolve it! 

Pinchas was a kanai, one who was willing to go "all the way" for his beliefs and desire to ensure the preservation of G-d's honor. He saw the desecration of G-d's name caused by Zimri's sin, and he arose and did something about it. Ordinary people are not allowed to do such an act as he did, killing Zimri. But one who cares, and is jealous for G-d, is he who is able to solve the problem.

And by virtue of that caring, Pinchas received from G-d the blessings of peace and the everlasting covenant, and merited to become a High Priest and a leader of Israel. And as the Ramchal wrote, G-d ultimately gives the leadership of Israel to those caring people who give their lives for Israel: 

"These are the true shepherds of Israel whom G-d desires greatly, who devote themselves to His sheep, and strive and work for Israel's peace and well-being in all ways... This can be compared to a father who loves no one more than those who love his sons with faithful love..."

May we be privileged to experience this.

Emuna: Let Us Be Strong, Worthy, and Aware in This War

Adapted from an article by Rabbi Eliezer Melamed, Rabbi of Har Brachah and Rosh Yeshivat Har Brachah, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Let us begin with a prayer and praise for our soldiers – and their forbearers: 

May our words be to the merit of the soldiers and field officers who risk their lives every day for their country and their people. They perpetuate, with their valor, our holy heroes throughout our generations: our forefathers in Egypt who did not forget or forfeit their identity; Yehoshua Bin-Nun and his warriors who captured Eretz Yisrael; King David who established the Jewish kingdom; Daniel and his comrades who were willing to give their lives in order to keep alive the embers of the faith of Israel in the Babylonian exile; the Hashmonaim who helped the Jewish People survive the decrees of the Syrian-Greeks and who re-established the Kingdom of Israel; Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues; and all the holy ones throughout our centuries of exile who preserved their Jewishness and were willing to give  - and actually gave - their lives for it during the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the pogroms; and the six million who were wiped out during the Holocaust. 

Our soldiers today are meriting to wage war in the Israel Defense Forces in the name of all the generations of our history, on behalf of our independence and our national honor. 

May it be G-d's will that in the merit of the tremendous mitzvah that they are fulfilling, we will be privileged to destroy those who wish to harm us, to settle the Land, to absorb Aliyah from all over the world, and to fulfill the great vision from the days of our Patriarch Abraham of establishing a nation of justice, charity and G-d's way that will be a blessing for all peoples.

May it be G-d's will that the sturdy spirit of our soldiers inspire all sectors of our nation – and even our military, political and societal leaders. 

The soldiers who fell in these battles, thus sanctifying G-d's name, merited to rise beyond their individual levels, all the way up to the level of Jewish national sanctity. They already have their large share in the World to Come, while we here below will strive with all our might to be worthy of their sacrifice and continue to walk in the true and correct path. And in their names and for the uplifting of their souls, we will add life and blessing. 

Understanding the Muslim Language

In the course of writing a work on Jewish faith vis-à-vis idolatry, and our relations with other religions, I have come to learn that not only is the Islamic religion significantly more combative than other religions, it also has a unique approach to the concept of "speech." Since we are at war with many practitioners of this religion, it behooves us to understand this. 

Words have great power in Islam. One can accept the Muslim religion simply by making the appropriate declaration, and a man can both betroth and divorce a woman simply by saying some specific words. It is no surprise, then, that the idea of what comprises truth and deception in Islam is also different than in the rest of the world. 

Generally, we understand speech to reflect reality; if it does not, it is a lie. In Islam, however, what one says is reality – and therefore he can say what he thinks should be the case, and does not feel that he is lying. Islam forbids what we call "lying" for egocentric purposes; it is permitted only if it serves the purposes of the correct values. But if one lies in order to portray infidels as wicked, this is considered the truth, because it serves the goals of the ultimate truth. They can even portray their defeats as victories, because in the end, their understanding of reality is that they will emerge victorious. 

There is more to elaborate on this topic. But one conclusion is that if we wish to truly deter our enemies, we must defeat them so decisively that they will not even be able to begin to exaggerate, deny, lie, and explain away the defeat as a victory. By acting as if they have not lost, their countrymen and coreligionists are encouraged to fight yet another war. Our victories must be total and absolute. There can be no half-victory and then assume that our enemies are "deterred;" they are not. We must strike them with full force, take over territories, and encourage them to emigrate.

When is it Time for Prayer? 

Prayer is very important – but sometimes, we must cut them short and take action instead. When the Children of Israel left Egypt, they soon found themselves at the Sea of Reeds with the Egyptians in hot pursuit – and they were scared. Moshe encouraged them and then began to pray, but Hashem stopped him: "Why do you cry out to Me? Speak to Bnei Yisrael and have them travel [through the sea]!" (Sh'mot 14,15)

Similarly, when one must rush a patient to the hospital, he should not take time out to pray. He must rather make sure to obtain medical help as quickly as possible, while whispering a prayer, if he wants, that does not cause any delay.

When a Jewish army goes out to war, a short prayer is offered up beforehand, but again, without causing any delay. For the main thing is to fulfill the tremendous mitzvot of "saving Israel from its enemies" and ensuring that the Land of Israel remains in our hands. 

The more we understand the value of the mitzvah at hand, the more value there is to the prayers that accompany it. But the more one denies the importance of the mitzvah that our soldiers are fulfilling, and believes that the main thing is to cry out to G-d – the prayer is actually valueless, and even worse. As is written: "He who turns his ear away from hearing [and fulfilling] the Torah, even his prayer is an abomination" (Proverbs 28,9). 

Two Talmudic Sages, R. Yirmiyah and R. Zera, expressed differing opinions (Tractate Shabbat, p. 10a) about whether one should interrupt his Torah studies in order to pray at the right time. But all agree that if one is engaged in Torah study or is about to fulfill a Torah commandment, this is not the right time to engage in prayer; Torah action and study come first.

Balak: Bil'am Ineffective Curse – and Deadly Advice

Adapted from the writings of Rav Moshe Leib HaCohen Halbershtat, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

This week's Torah portion of Balak (Bamidbar 22,1-25,9) discusses the Gentile prophet Bil'am and his attempt to help the Moavites vanquish Israel via his power of speech. This happened just after the Israelites had defeated the Canaanites, the Emorites and the Bashanites – all of whom had sought to prevent Israel from reaching Eretz Yisrael. 

The situation was such that the Israelites had grown quite confident of their military abilities, after tasting the sweet taste of victory, and had begun to feel that it was their own prowess that had brought them success. "Here we are," they began to feel, "a nation of former slaves that has defeated two regional powers; we're now really on the map! The others will think twice before they start up with us." [This precisely was what Moshe later warned them against: "Do not say 'my own power and strength brought me all this'" (D'varim 8,17).]

The Medrash tells us that Balak, King of Moav, feared that he might be next to be defeated. He therefore convened an urgent meeting of his military officers and intelligence personnel to see how to counteract the looming Israelite threat. In the background was the clear fact that Israel was winning battles super-naturally. Balak himself, an admired astrologist, saw in the stars that he could in fact defeat Israel – but he didn't know what he should do to bring this about. 

Aware that Israel's leader Moshe had grown up in Midian, Balak turned to Midian – his erstwhile enemy with whom he now made peace in order to fight their common potential enemy, Israel – to ascertain the secret of Moshe's leadership and strength. The Midianites told him that Moshe's strength was in his "mouth," his power of speech. Balak now understood that he could not fight a conventional war against Israel, and so he said, "Let's get someone who truly understands and can implement the source of the Israelites' power and he will lead us against them." 

The Moavites therefore reached out to Bil'am, who was known to be able to win battles with the power of his mouth. He would curse Israel, King Balak assumed, and Israel would be defeated. 

However, both Balak and Bil'am made a bitter mistake. They did not know that Moshe's above warning concludes as follows: "Remember that it is Hashem your G-d Who gives you the power to succeed" (D'varim 8,18). Without G-d, Heaven forbid, neither the greatest generals nor the most state-of-the-art weaponry can help Israel win a war – but with G-d, nothing can stop them! It was G-d Who enabled Israel's power of prayer to be effective in their wars against King Sichon of the Emorites and King Og of the Bashan. But if Hashem decides that the power of the mouth is not sufficient in a given case, then even a great prophet such as Bil'am, who was able to determine with pinpoint accuracy the precise second that G-d could be expected to be angered (Rashi to Bamidbar 24,16, based on Sanhedrin 105b), will not be able to succeed. 

It is only Hashem "Who gives you the ability to succeed," whether the war is fought with conventional means or via words and speech; neither type of weapon has any value if G-d does not render it effective. 

Bil'am, after failing to successfully curse Israel, offers to advise Balak as to how he could defeat Israel: "Come and I will advise you" (24,14). The Medrash tells us that he explained to Balak how precisely to entice Israel into sinning with the daughters of Moav. In fact, we soon read, "Yisrael abode in Shittim, and the people began to commit harlotry with the daughters of Moav" (25,1). This was the result of Bil'am's advice, as Moshe later said (31,16). 

In our words: Bil'am was a great enemy of Israel, and tried many times to curse and trip them up. At one point, as recounted in this week's portion, "G-d opened the mouth of [Bil'am's] donkey" (22,28), and it began to speak, scolding Bil'am for hitting it. G-d thus gave Bil'am a message so clear that only someone blinded by his hatred, such as Bil'am, could miss it. The message was that the power of the mouth is dependent solely on G-d; if He wishes and decides, then even a donkey can open its mouth and speak! But Bil'am was unable to receive the message; he may have understood it, but he certainly did not internalize it, and continued to try to curse Israel. 

But it didn't work, and Bil'am ended up blessing Israel instead: "No black magic exists in Jacob, and no occult powers in Israel" (verse 23); the time will yet come when G-d's love for Israel will be revealed to all. "The nation will arise like a great lion, and will lift itself up like a young lion" (verse 24) – when the Israelites awaken in the morning, they jump up to fulfill the mitzvot, to wear tzitzit, to recite Kriat Shma, and to put on tefillin (see Rashi to verses 23-24). Bil'am is here showing that he understands that the power of his speech is limited because of the mitzvot that Israel fulfills, and that this is why G-d is not allowing his curses to be effective against them. Bil'am then drops the bomb, his final piece of ammunition: "If you want to defeat Israel, Moav, then your only hope is to cause them to sin. That's the only scenario in which G-d will remove His protective shield from them." 

Most sorrowfully, Bil'am's plan worked. The Israelites sinned gravely, and a great plague broke out among them. Pinchas ben Elazar saved the day by realizing that the correct Halakhic response was to kill the ringleader of the sinners and thus stop the public desecration of G-d's name. And so, after 24,000 sinners were killed, the plague was stopped, and G-d's protection was restored to Israel. 

The People of Israel thus learned the hard way a critical lesson for all future generations: "The scorpion does not kill; it is sin that kills" (B'rachot 33a). Whatever ammunition or weapons are used, whether they be conventional, nuclear, biological – or a curse – none of them have intrinsic value or strength. They can never penetrate the Divine defenses – unless these are removed. And even then, the weapons may have no value: a plague can break out on its own, as it did in this case. That only strategy then is to restore the spiritual Divine protection to Israel, by sanctifying G-d's name via the mitzvot. This is the critical message of Parashat Balak.

Emuna: What Makes Jerusalem Special

by Rav Moshe Tzuriel, of saintly blessed memory, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

It is really quite remarkable that the name "Jerusalem" does not appear even once in the Five Books of the Torah. This is of course not because the Eternal City is not important; quite the contrary. The Torah calls it "the place that Hashem your G-d will choose to establish His Name" (D'varim 12,21). And in another 19 places, as well, it calls it the place "that G-d will choose." Why is this? 

Because, as we read in the last five words of the Book of Yechezkel, "The name of the city from that day on will be 'G-d is there.'" That is, when a person wants to set a meeting with a friend in Jerusalem, he will say, "Let's meet in the city that G-d chose to place His presence there" – and everyone will know to what he is referring. For this is the place that G-d chose even before the Creation of the World (Medrash Tehillim 76)! As is stated straight out: "For G-d chose Zion, He desired it for His habitation" (Tehillim 132,13). 

Jerusalem and the Holy Land

There is a major difference between the sanctity of Jerusalem and that of the rest of the Land of Israel. The latter is contingent upon the arrival in the Land of most of the Jewish People from around the world (Tr. Nazir 42a). But the sanctity of the Holy Temple and Jerusalem is solely because of the Divine Presence, which is permanent and not transient (see Rambam, Laws of the Holy Temple, 6,16). In short, the sanctity of Jerusalem stems not from Israel's presence there, but because of G-d's perpetual presence there.

Let us note that regarding the Sukkot commandment of taking the Four Species (lulav, etrog, etc.), the Torah states (Vayikra 23,40) that this applies only on the first day of Sukkot – but then immediately says that we must rejoice before G-d for all seven days of the festival! So which is it? The answer is that in Jerusalem, "before G-d," we are to take the Four Species on each of the seven days of the festival, while everywhere else, it is required Biblically only on the first day. 

The Prophet Jeremiah says: "For at that time, they will call Jerusalem the chair of G-d" (3,17). What does this mean? The Rambam (in his Guide 1,9) defines the Heavenly term "chair" as follows: 

"Since [in ancient times] only important people such as kings would sit on chairs [while the others would sit on benches, stools and mats], a chair became a symbol of honor for those for whom it was made. And therefore, the Holy Temple was called "chair" (Jeremiah 14,21). And this is why the heavens are called "chair" (Isaiah 66,1)…" 

The above-cited verse from Jeremiah continues: "All the nations will gather there for G-d's name to Jerusalem, and they will no longer go after the arbitrary stubbornness of their evil heart." The Malbim explains, partially based on the Abarbanel, as follows: 

"The current situation is that G-d dwells in His throne in the heavens, and His leadership and supervision over the world are felt only from far, and only according to natural law. In the future, however, G-d's leadership and dominion will be felt from up close, from Jerusalem, with miracles, beyond the natural. It will then be as if G-d sits above – leading, supervising, and ruling. And this is why "all the nations will gather there" – not for war, and not simply to enjoy its fruits, but only "for G-d's Name" and also "to Jerusalem," because of the city's importance. "And they will no longer go after the arbitrary stubbornness of their evil heart," because they will all recognize G-d's kingdom and His unity, His ways, and His Torah."

Let us conclude with the idea of G-d's protection of our Holy City, the Eternal City (B'rachot 58a). Jerusalem surrounds the Holy Temple, teaching us that "Jerusalem, mountains surrounds it, and Hashem surrounds His Nation, from now and forever" (Tehillim 125,2). That is: Whoever visits Jerusalem sees seven hills around it… and whoever looks deeply into Torah understands that the number seven is quite purposeful. And why did G-d establish this unique topographic structure around Jerusalem? The Prophet Zechariah adds a dimension: "And I will be for [Jerusalem], says G-d, [as] a wall of fire around it, and for its honor I will be in it" (2,9). What we see with our eyes teaches us the inner essence: G-d is watching over us!  

Every Jew must gain strength and faith and trust from this very precious thought. 

Let us conclude with the words of the Book of the Kuzari, which ends with this: "Jerusalem will not be rebuilt before the Children of Israel long for it totally and completely, to the extent that they will love its rocks and dirt [based on Tehillim 102,15]." Let us wake up!!

In fact, the value of the Land of Israel lies in the fact that Jerusalem dwells within it. So wrote the Maharal of Prague (in his Gur Aryeh commentary on Rashi, B'reshit 32,1). And so is written in the Zohar. This explains why the Sages often note the praise of "Jerusalem" whilst citing a verse that refers to the entire Land, as in B'rachot 6a – for the latter is dependent on the former.

Hukat: The Message of the Inexplicable Red Heifer

by Rav Avichai Katzin, Rabbi in Raanana and Head of Beit Medrash Shaarei Mishpat, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

As is well-known, the entire idea of the Red Heifer and its ability to purify us from the impurity of death, while at the same time defiling those who are pure, is an inexplicable Torah statute that we fulfill without understanding. 

Our Sages teach that this is why it is called chukat haTorah, "the statute of the Torah" (Bamidbar 19,2), as if G-d is saying, "It is My decree and you have no permission to second-guess it" (Rashi). 

Given that it is termed a chukah, it would seem that we need not or should not speculate about its justification. Still and all, many have tried to understand and explain the Red Heifer. In the following words, we will not seek to join in these efforts. But we would like to understand one aspect of the message of the Red Heifer: What is its relationship to death?

Death in Jewish tradition is associated with tum'ah, impurity. The gravest level of impurity is a corpse, followed by certain dead animals (sheretz, nevelah, etc.). Even the impurity of niddah, a menstruant woman, is rooted in the missed opportunity to create life. But, what is the message of this tum'ah for us, the living? What does the impurity of death teach us?

And perhaps we may add: What do we feel towards death?

In the Torah's verses of explanation to the commandment of the Red Heifer, we read: "Anyone who touches a corpse, [i.e.,] a soul of the person who has died [lit.: will die], and is not sprinkled upon [by the Red Heifer ashes] – he defiles G-d's tabernacle sanctuary [if he enters it] and will be spiritually cut off from Israel" (Bamidbar 19,13).  

Rav Shimshon Rafael Hirsch, the great 19th century German rabbi and scholar, asked two questions on this verse: Why does the Torah refer to one who touches a soul of the person? Should it not be simply, "One who touches a corpse, a soul of a person who has died"?

And furthermore, why does it say that the person "will die," when in fact the Torah is referring to one has already died?

Rav Hirsch answers both questions at once: "The 'soul of the person who will die' refers to man in general who is destined to die. When a person stands aside a human corpse, he becomes defiled and impure – with the sense of finality, of inevitable cessation, of human mortality. With this sense he loses his vitality and his joy and love of life. What significance can there be to life, he asks, if it is so transient and leads inescapably to "the end"? As in Ecclesiastes, "what point is there to all his work under the sun?" 

This is the sensation of one who stands opposite "the soul of the man who is destined to die."

The purpose of the Red Heifer is to symbolize the fact that we have the ability to purify this sensation that accompanies death, and that we can overcome it.

Similarly, Rav Hirsch explains the connection between the Red Heifer passage and the story of the death of Miriam that follows right afterwards: 

"Our Sages explained (Tr. Moed Katan 28a): 'Why were these two passages placed one after the other? To tell us that just like the Red Heifer atones, so too, the death of righteous people atones.' This tells us another great truth, as well: that just like the Red Heifer tells us that man's soul is eternal and he possesses ethical freedom, so too the death of the righteous teaches us these two things. In fact, only a blind person cannot see that the body of a righteous person is only a garment that he tosses off when he reaches the World of Truth."

We all know that a tzaddik's death does not signify the end of his influence in the world. Avraham Avinu, Moshe Rabbeinu, Hillel and Shammai, Abaye and Rav, the Rambam and Rashi continue to live long after their physical deaths.

I was recently thinking how many times a day Jews all over the world mention Rashi's name. I have no doubt that his name is mentioned over a million times each day! After all, Jews the world over learn the Bible and the Talmud with his commentary, and speak of Rashi – a Jew who was born nearly a thousand years ago – countless times without even realizing it! 

This message, too, is taught by the Red Heifer, as it is burnt totally, yet is then able to purify us from the defilement of death.

The same lesson is taught by one of the Ten Martyrs, R. Chanina ben Tradyon, as recounted in Tr. Avodah Zarah 18b. When the Romans were burning him to death together with a Torah scroll, his students asked him, "Our teacher, what do you see?" That is, what do you comprehend at this difficult hour? He answered them: "The parchment is burning, but the letters are floating up into the air." He told them that the outer wrapping, the body, can be burnt – but the spirit is eternal, it floats up into the sky, and it cannot be destroyed.

From this Talmudic account the Rambam learns the value of every individual mitzvah. If a person fulfills even just one mitzvah with all its details and with perfect intentions, he will merit the World to Come. For when R. Chanina told R. Yossi ben Kisme about the time he was extra attentive to each detail of the mitzvah of giving charity, R. Yossi told him: "From this I see that you will have a share in the World to Come." The body can be consumed, but the spirit, the letters, the mitzvot that a person amasses in This World fly up into the air and overcome our human mortality and death. 

And this message, too, is taught us by the Red Heifer.