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.

Tetzave: Purim and the Priestly Garments

by Rav Yaakov Shapira, Rosh Yeshivat Merkaz HaRav, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The weekly Torah portions in which Moshe is instructed how to build the Mishkan are Terumah and Tetzaveh, the latter of which we read this week: Sh'mot 27,20 – 30,10). The first portion deals with the Mishkan itself and the Menorah, Table, Ark, and Altar, while Tetzaveh details the Priestly Garments. However, Tetzaveh begins with something seemingly unconnected: the Divine command that Israel bring oil for the Menorah, and another directive to Aharon and the Priests to light it every evening.

The Ha'amek Davar and others ask: Why does the lighting of the Menorah interrupt between the Mishkan and the Priestly Garments?

As is known, the Gemara tells us that the Menorah was not needed to physically illuminate the Mishkan, but rather to "attest to the entire world that G-d's presence is within Israel" (Tr. Shabbat 22b). G-d promised that He would dwell in our midst (Sh'mot 25,8), within every Jew. But the Torah emphasizes that His presence dwells also on items that appear to be technical and external – such as even the clothing that the Priests must wear as they perform the Temple service. For "the heart follows the actions," we learn in the Sefer HaChinukh, mitzvah number 16.

And this is actually the mission of the Cohen. The saintly Rav Kook writes (Orot HaT'chiyah 4) that the purpose of the Priesthood is to come "from within the children of Israel" – the Priests must use their sanctity to raise our regular daily routines to even higher levels. This is also the mission of all of Israel, which is charged to be a "kingdom of Priests and a holy nation" (Sh'mot 19,6) in comparison with the other nations.

Rav Kook writes a similar idea regarding the Pesach-night Seder: "This is why we eat, on this holy night, a simple vegetable called karpas, whose function is to arouse our appetites – because on the Seder night, we need not fear that we will become over-involved in unrestrained eating, because the night's holiness will overcome it."

This connects with Purim as well. The Gemara suggests that a Torah source for the wicked Haman [who lived some 13 centuries after the Torah was given] is in the following verse: "Hamin – Did you [Adam] in fact eat from the tree I commanded you not to eat from?" (B'reshit 3,11) The profundity of this point is as follows:

By eating from the forbidden Tree of Knowledge, simply because it was "good to eat and attractive to the eyes" (3,6), Adam and Eve fell into the trap of sinful lust. This was also the sin of Haman's ancestor Esav, who demanded that Yaakov give him some of his porridge (25,30). Yaakov, on the other hand, lusted only for the spiritual – the priestly privileges of the first-borns. [The Cohanim took over the Temple service from the first-borns.]

Similarly, on Purim the Jews were punished for having taken part in the feast of King Achashverosh, following their eyes towards that which was only of external value. The rectification of this sin is the mitzvah that we fulfill on Purim of eating a festive meal that is replete with spirituality, devotion to G-d, and sanctification of the physical.

When Yaakov went to his father to receive the blessings that would otherwise have gone to Esav, Yitzchak smelled Yaakov's clothing, which belonged to Esav, and said, "See, my son's fragrance is like the perfume of a field blessed by G-d" (B'reshit 27,27). Yitzchak smelled the aroma of Gan Eden (Paradise) in the garments, and the Gemara says that this indicates that even the most "empty" Jew is replete with good deeds.

The Targum Yonatan explains that the aroma was that of the Temple incense (ketoret). The idea behind this is that Esav was the ancestor of Haman, who "knew how to speak evil and gossip better than anyone" (Megillah 13b), and yet his clothing were like the ketoret, which atones for exactly that sin. Why? Because both the ketoret, which is offered in the all but inaccessible Holy of Holies, and evil speech are done in secret: "Let that which is done in secret atone for that which is done in secret" (Tr. Zevachim 88b).

Mordechai also symbolizes the ketoret; see Onkelos to Sh'mot 30,23, and Tr. Hulin 139b. As such, the Jews who bowed to a graven image at Haman's command did so only externally (Megillah 12a). On Purim, the inner truth is revealed – as we read in Shir HaShirim (3,6): "Who is that who ascends from the desert… perfumed (mekuteret) with myrrh and frankincense" - even the bitter myrrh is a part of the ketoret, symbolizing that even the sinners of Israel are a part of Israel, as they are replete with mitzvot.

May G-d grant that we truly see how every Jew, even one who appears outwardly to be a sinner, is as full of mitzvot as a pomegranate. And may we merit to receive the genuine holiness of Purim!

Seeking Rav Kook's Glasses, to See and Welcome Redemptive Times

by Rav Tal Haimowitz, Yeshivat Maalot and Head of the Rabanan Agadta Project, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Everyone feels that the post-Oct. 7^th world is in upheaval. Rav Kook saw the Redemption, and we must study and analyze his writings so that we can see it as well.

HaRav Avraham Yitzchak HaCohen Kook (1865-1935) of saintly blessed memory, the first Chief Rabbi of the modern-day Jewish yishuv in the Land of Israel, was undoubtedly the seer and shepherd of the Generation of Redemption. Not only did he pronounce already then that his times were those of atchalta deGeulah, the beginning of Redemption, but he even discerned that during this special period, there are communal guidelines and perspectives that are different than during previous periods.

The Rav explained, for instance, that according to the Holy Zohar, in the times of Ikv'ta d'Mishicha, the Footsteps of Messiah, even those who appear to be sinful on the outside are actually good in their inner selves – and the proof is their national aspirations and their dedication to the Nation of Israel. This led him to lovingly bring close those sons who had strayed from the Torah path, as opposed to the habitual approach of rebuking and rejecting them until they somehow find their way back.

So did Rav Meir Bar-Ilan write in his introduction to Rav Kook's work Chazon HaGeulah: "The light that shone in [Rav Kook's] soul was the light of salvation and Redemption… In all [his copious spiritual work], almost without exception, he had one path and one approach: to restore the Children of Israel to their Father in Heaven, and to restore the Nation of Israel to its Land…"

This principal trait of Rav Kook has practical ramifications also regarding what should be our approach to Torah study in this critical Redemptive generation, as we will now see.

The ability to anticipate processes underway in our world, and to identify historic changes and human progress, depends on whether we can take stock of the inner reality that leads creation along. As we saw in the above example, HaRav Kook noted a change underway in the souls of Israel. Despite the behavior of a very large part of those who came to the Holy Land in the Second Aliyah (the arrival of close to 40,000 Jews from 1904-1914), who came largely for socialist ideals and were often most scornful of Torah values, he studied them closely and knew that their "inner aspects" were truly good, as he explained in his Igeret Takanah (Letter 555).

Rav Kook also understood that the brazen heresy of many Jews of those times stemmed from an aspiration to an even higher level of holiness than those they had been exposed to. Their souls were actually illuminated with a great Divine light, and were not a product of brash audaciousness (Orot HaT'chiyah, p. 47).

What was the source of Rav Kook's ability to fathom the inner reality? It stemmed from his long years of deep and intense study of the inner, Kabbalistic secrets of the Torah. This study began when he was a young rabbi in Zoimel; struck with several fundamental questions, he received his community's permission to spend a month learning with the great Kabbalist sage Rav Shlomo Elyashiv, author of the famous Leshem Shvo v'Achlamah and grandfather of this generation's venerated sage R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv.

His Focus on the Return to Zion and the Centrality of Redemption

Rav Kook's natural inclination towards the inner teachings and Kabbalist esoterics of Torah is that which brought him to so intensively call for and teach towards the concept of Israel's "return to Zion" (Psalms 126,1). He wrote that there can be no comprehension of the importance of the Land of Israel and its central importance in the Torah without delving into the secrets of Torah. He dramatically writes: "The recognition of the sanctity of the Land of Israel appears in a blurred manner [the more we] distance from understanding the secrets… and then the Exile begins to find favor" (Orot Eretz Yisrael 2).

The above is also that which brought him to so totally anticipate and long for Israel's Redemption in all its facets. This is because the Redemption is dependent upon the revelation of the inner layers of the Torah, as the Zohar itself states, and as is repeated in the Kabbalistic works afterwards. The greatest of the Arizal's students, R. Chaim Vital, in his introduction to the Arizal's Shaar HaHakdamot, found no explanation to the delay in the Redemption other than the fact that the study of the inner levels of the Torah were not being studied.

Of course, Rav Kook sought to write in a way that would be understood, as much as possible, by the general public, including even those who are not familiar with Kabbalah. (The late Chief Rabbi of Haifa, R. She'ar Yashuv Cohen, son of Rav Kook's close student the Nazir, explained as much to the Lubavitcher Rebbe during a meeting they once held.) Still, his words were certainly rooted in and directed towards the Torah's inner, hidden levels.

A New Type of Literature

Our generation has been privileged to see many students of Kabbalah and many who seek the inner understandings of Torah, in which is revealed how G-d acts in His world via His Torah and Providence. Ever since Simchat Torah of 2023, there is no one who does not sense that the entire world is in an upheaval. The Nation of Israel will never be the same as it was before the events of that day and those afterwards. From here stems the understandable and justified quest to understand what is happening beneath the surface, amidst the understanding that the outer reality is merely a thin shell of what truly is.

There is thus a new mission in the Torah study halls that identify the Redemption on the close horizon: to connect the nigleh (outer) words of Rav Kook regarding Jewish Law, Talmud, Bible and the like to the nistar (inner) layers of Torah. He himself said that he wrote nothing that lacks a source in the writings of the Arizal – and the goal now is to find these sources. A new literature is arising that will find the bonds that connect the Rav's above writings and those of and about the Kabbalah.

The pioneers of this work were certainly Rav Kook's son Rav Tzvi Yehuda and the Rav HaNazir, who found and published the Kabbalistic sources of his Kabbalah-type writings. But in recent years, this quest has taken on a broader context, and many important writers have begun to publish works whose unique objective it is to explain more deeply these sources and others of his writings in this manner. I, myself, have also been privileged to contribute my humble ideas on these matters in a new work that I am writing, entitled, "The Ari and the Ra'yah [referring to the Arizal and Rav Kook] – the Tzimtzum." Its goal is to encompass various topics of Kabbalah and faith that touch upon them, topic after topic.

But in truth, the work is very great. The source(s) must be found for all that he wrote, and he wrote very much and very profoundly. It is appropriate that just after having commemorated a century since Rav Kook founded his great Yeshivat Merkaz HaRav, many Torah scholars should dedicate themselves to delving into his deep Torah and revealing its profound secrets. Only thus can we truly see through the glasses of Rav Kook, who was able to reveal universal secrets and happily welcome the Redemption and our national salvation.

Teruma: The Mutual Love Between G-d and Israel

by Rav Moshe Tzuriel zt"l, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

During the times of the Sages of the Talmud, it was customary among some young couples that the groom would leave home before marriage in order to study Torah with the greatest rabbis. [Perhaps this started] with Rabbi Akiva, who left his home for 12 years, and then for another 12 years – of course with the permission of his young and dedicated wife Rachel. Rava's son also received permission from his wife to leave for the same reason, for six years. The Gemara also tells of the son of R. Judah the Prince, redactor of the Mishna, who became engaged to the daughter of R. Yossi ben Zimra – with the condition that the groom would spend 12 years studying Torah. It happened that the boy saw his future wife walk through the room, and he asked his father if he could reduce the period to six years. The parents agreed, but before the final agreement could be signed, the boy said that he wished to reconsider once again, and asked that the wedding take place immediately, before he left for his studies. The boy then became embarrassed at his impatience, but his father mollified him, saying:

"You have the idea of the Holy One. He, too, promised to dwell in the midst of the Children of Israel – but only when they come to the Land of Israel, as written in the Song of the Sea: "You will bring them and plant them in the mountain of Your inheritance" - i.e., Jerusalem - "the place You made for Your dwelling, Hashem" (Exodus 15,17). But then what happened? Hashem rushed things up, telling Moshe [in this week's Torah portion of Teruma] to tell Israel that "they should make Me a sanctuary and I will dwell in their midst" (ibid. 25,2). As Rashi explains, the groom followed G-d's pattern when He did not wait 40 years until Israel entered the Holy Land to dwell in their midst, but rather decided to do so at once.

And it is in the Tabernacle, and then the Holy Temple, that the cherubim atop the Holy Ark symbolize the mutual love between G-d and His people, as explained at length by the Torah commentators.

Why exactly does G-d love us so? There are two answers, as the Maharal of Prague wrote in his commentary to Pirkei Avot: First is the very creation of Israel as "the branch planted by [G-d], the work of My hands in which I take pride" (Isaiah 60,21); Israel is the nation thus worthy of the World to Come, even before they fulfill mitzvot and perform good deeds. And secondly, we have the additional level of our good deeds and integrity. That is, as the Maharal continues, "while the Christians and the Ishmaelites (Muslims) tend to extremism in their religions, Israel has the trait of the middle road (see Rambam's Guide 3,39 and De'ot 1)." "This nation I created for Me," we read in Isaiah (43,21); Rashi explains that the world was created for Israel – which means for the sake of the Divine objective – and our higher level is not dependent upon our merits, which grant us an extra level of Divine preference.

As an aside, we must ask: Is this not a racist viewpoint? The answer is no, because racism is defined as something that claims to grant one race authority to take advantage of and subjugate the others that are supposedly lower than them. But if one race claims to have advantages, but does not adopt the supposed right to subjugate others, this is not racism. If we say that a European race is polite and orderly, as opposed to a Far East tribe that is barbaric and lacks those traits, that is not racism.

HaRav Kook, of saintly blessed memory, taught us (Introduction to Musar Avicha): "For as long as one does not teach himself to understand the greatness of the soul of Israel and the virtue of Israel, and that of the Holy Land, and the longing of every Israelite for the building of the Holy Temple, and the greatness of Israel in the world – he will be practically unable at all to taste the true flavor of the service of G-d."

This helps us understand the mutual love between G-d and Israel symbolized by the cherubim in the Temple facing each other with a common goal. We also understand why G-d rushed to have Israel build a Tabernacle in the desert 40 years earlier than planned – because G-d, as the "male," always wishes to give to His chosen "female." And this also helps us understand the comparison to the groom who wished to marry his intended right away.

But we are well-advised to ensure that the love is mutual. Just as the Sages tell us that G-d shows His great love for us via "the ten perpetual miracles in the Temple" (Avot 5), and just as the Western Lamp attests to His presence there (Shabbat 22b) – so too we must act upon our desire to rebuild the Holy Temple. We may not allow ourselves to be distracted from this vision and dream, and we may not have weakness of spirit as if many long years will yet pass (Heaven forbid) before the Divine King's palace is re-established. Rather, we must take the following practical steps:

The Government of Israel must forbid non-Jews from entering the holiest locations of the Temple, as is Halakhically ruled in the Mishna (Kelim 1). After the battles of the Six Day War died down, no Arab set foot on the Temple site, until then-Defense Minister Moshe Day gave them the keys. How could it have happened that not one of the religious parties protested this disgrace? How can it be that they all did not protest it? How did the rabbis not cry out in opposition? And even now, Jewish prayer on the Mount is very restricted; is this not a great disgrace that we cave in to the Gentiles, instead of ruling there as we should?

But the general populace are lovers of G-d and greatly desire and long to restore the Divine Presence to Its place. "For your salvation we have pined all day long," we say thrice daily in our prayers.

We conclude with these words of inspiration from the Tanna D'vei Eliyahu Rabba:

"Every wise man in Israel who learns true words and ideas of Torah; and who sighs in pain at the [degraded] honor of G-d in the world, and regarding that of Israel, all his days; and who pines intensely for the honor of Jerusalem and the Holy Temple and the Salvation that it may sprout speedily in our times; and for the Ingathering of the Exiles – immediately, the Holy Spirit dwells within him."

Emuna: Our Public Reaction to Hurtful Remarks

by Rav Zalman Baruch Melamed, Dean of Yeshivat Beit El Institutions, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Last week, the head of an important yeshiva, Yeshivat Slobodka in Bnei Brak, who is a great Torah scholar and genius, one who has spread and taught Torah very widely, and a man with very many merits – publicly said something somewhat incensing. He sharply criticized the religious-Zionist sector, saying that the Torah it teaches, and that the Torah of the religious-Zionist rabbis, is "warped." It was hard to hear these words, and there were those who protested them publicly.

At first glance, hearing these words is truly infuriating. We are immediately inclined to protest this insult to the honor of Torah. Many Zionist rabbis, and many who are no longer living, taught and teach this Torah, and this is an insult to their Torah-imbued approach, and therefore it is incumbent upon us to protest and dissent.

On second thought, though, one starts to think that perhaps it would be better to be - as the Talmud states in Tr. Shabbat 88b - among those who "are insulted but do not insult back; who hear their disgrace but do not respond, about whom is stated, 'let them who love G-d be as the sun when it comes out in its might'" (Judges 5,31).

Then another day passes, and another thought arises: Maybe it's not as one-sided as it looks? What, actually, do the Zionist rabbis think about the hareidi rabbis? Do they believe that the hareidi approach is correct – or maybe that it is "warped?" Perhaps the Zionist rabbis believe that the Torah of the hareidim is incomplete and distorted in not including Land of Israel Torah and not focusing on Ahavat Yisrael and the Land of Israel? Perhaps Zionist rabbis also believe that a Torah that does not emphasize everything – is a "warped" Torah? So both sides believe that the other side is teaching a wrong type of Torah – so why should you be so angry at them for saying the same thing you might be thinking about them? The difference might be that you don't say it aloud – but there are those who do.

In short, there is a difference of opinion, and each side speaks against the other. What's not OK is that they don't know that the intentions of the others side are for the sake of Heaven – which leads, as we learn in Tr. Sotah 40a, to "out of both sides G-d will be praised." There is room for disagreements, and G-d's name is sanctified by the different opinions.

Even within the hareidi public there are those who speak against hareidi rabbis and leaders and say that their Torah is "warped" because they go along with the State and accept grants from the State. They say that it is "warped" to have anything to do with the secular State.

And there are also those within the religious-Zionist camp who say about each other that their Torah is "warped." Some say that the others are too liberal, while the latter say that they are Beit Hillel and the others are Beit Shammai [whose opinion is generally stricter and usually not accepted]. Those among the Zionists who are more Torah-oriented say that the hareidim are Beit Shammai and that they themselves are Beit Hillel. And some hareidim say this about each other.

These disputes are acceptable. But what's not acceptable is when one side feels that the other does not have intentions for the sake of Heaven, "because if they did, then they would agree with me – for after all, I'm right! And if he doesn't agree with my opinion, it means he has ulterior motives, for why else would he not agree with me, given that the truth is on my side?" But we know that two people can both have correction intentions and sincerely believe that the other is wrong.

And then another day passes, and still another thought arises. Perhaps the rabbi did not really say these things totally on his own, but rather the Master of the Universe wanted these words to be heard – and therefore we must be attentive to them. What he said might truly be something that we can learn something from; perhaps it can help us to improve ourselves. Why should we not accept these words of mussar (proper conduct) and see if we have something to improve? Everyone has where to improve, and every approach can be refined and become better and more perfect. So it is a good idea to be a person who appreciates being told that what he is doing wrong. In fact, this is one of the 49 ways in which Torah is acquired, as we learn in Pirkei Avot (Chapters of the Fathers) 6,6. When you hear someone rebuking you, try to think how it can help you become better.

And we can also think something else: It wasn't enjoyable for us to hear those words – so,

"that which you don't like, don't do to others" (Shabbat 31a). That is, we should not cause others the same discomfort that these words caused us by speaking badly about them. And if in fact his words taught us the right way to act, we should write him a note of thanks for having taught us to be more careful in our behavior and not say things that can make others feel bad. And in this way, everything will turn out be for the best and for blessing.
We look at our disagreement as a "dispute for the sake of Heaven." That is, we are sure that our path is right and complete, while we see others who focus only on selected parts. Still, we see that everyone adds a good point, so that out of it all "G-d's praise will arise."
But it is possible to think differently, which we do. We believe that the proper approach is to be partners with G-d in the national Redemptive processes. One group builds the Land of Israel, one group is busy with national unity, one group is busy with Torah – and in the end, from out of all of them, "G-d's praise will arise."

A Dispute for the Sake of Heaven

HaRav Kook taught us this approach. The things that were said against him 100 years ago were even more hateful than what the Rosh Yeshiva of Slobodka said about us. Yet he accepted them with equanimity, understanding that the dispute was for the sake of Heaven. Everyone has virtues, all of which join together and increase the honor of Heaven.

There are those who emphasize learning Torah over other matters, for reasons that they believe are correct. They believe that if we focus only on Torah and less on Eretz Yisrael and Am Yisrael, we will thus strengthen the Torah, and that this is "a time to do for the Lord - they have voided Your Torah" (Psalms 119,126). Of course we must fulfill the entire Torah, they say, but now there is no choice other than to build walls [between themselves and the secular world] until they are very strong.

Mishpatim: Mercy, Mercy!

by Rav Moshe Leib HaCohen Halbershtadt, Founder and Director of YORU Jewish Leadership, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

This week's Torah portion of Mishpatim (Sh'mot, chapters 21-24), which follows the grand Giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, begins unexpectedly with the technical laws of a Hebrew slave: "If you should purchase a Hebrew slave, for six years he shall work for you, and in the seventh year he shall go free" (21,1).

Why does the Torah choose to begin its legal section of various detailed laws regarding torts, damages and the like with the Hebrew slave (eved ivri), of all topics? It could have started, for instance, with, "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Vayikra 19,8), which R. Akiva said is a "great principle of the Torah," and which is a primary fundamental on which the entire Torah stands (Shabbat 31a). Why do the laws begin with the Hebrew slave?!
Our holy Torah specifically began its laws with those of eved ivri in order to teach us the basis of all the laws of the Torah, which is that we may never forget the "heart." We must always strive to combine the trait of compassion with that of strict judgement, and to thus form a more perfect world – in remembrance of both the Exodus from Egypt and the creation of the world.

Rabbeinu Baḥye, a great Torah scholar and commentator in Spain (1255–1340), explains [paraphrased]: "The Torah begins with this law because the Hebrew slave is a testament to both the Exodus from Egypt and the creation of the world. It recalls the Exodus, in that the Israelites were slaves in Egypt and G-d took them out to be slaves to Him alone, as is written (Vayikra 25,55), "For the children of Israel are My slaves" – My slaves whom I brought out of Egypt. The laws of the eved ivri are first, just as the Ten Commandments begin with the fact that G-d "brought you out of the land of Egypt, from a house of slaves" (Sh'mot 20,2).

"And it also recalls the creation of the world," Rabbeinu Baḥye continues, "just as the Sabbath is a remembrance of Creation, for G-d created His world in six days and the seventh is a day of rest – and the Hebrew slave is also a remembrance of Creation, in that his seventh year is one of rest from his master, just like the seventh day of the week – and all the sevenths are special: the Sabbath day, and the Sh'mitah year, and the seventh Sh'mitah year which brings on the Jubilee; all of this is one great principle from one source, the secret of history, mentioned in the story of Creation in B'reshit (1,1-2,3)."

Rabbeinu Baḥye is telling us that the eved ivri is a symbol of two great principle of faith in G-d. The forerunner to the Shulchan Arukh – the Baal HaTurim – makes the same point (O.C. 625): "Scriptures hinged the mitzvah of Sukkah, and many other mitzvot, on the Exodus, because the Exodus is something that we saw with our own eyes and heard with our own ears [and was passed down through the generations], something that no one can deny; it teaches the truth of the existence of the Creator, that He created all according to His will, and that He has the power and ability in the upper and lower spheres to act with them as He pleases, as He did with us when He extricated us from Egypt with great miracles and wonders."

The Sefer HaChinukh, too, in Mitzvah 26, explains why we recite Kiddush on the Sabbath "in remembrance of Creation." It is in order that we realize through this to remember the greatness of this Sabbath day, and set in our hearts our belief in the creation ex nihilo of the world.

However, there is yet another, deeper layer to this idea. A Hebrew slave is one who was so destitute that he had no choice but to sell himself into slavery, or was sold into slavery because he stole and could not repay what he took. He is thus on the bottom of human society, having been forced into giving up his freedom and basic dignity. The Torah therefore began its litany of laws with the Hebrew slave in order that we remember that we, too, were once in that position, enslaved and humiliated in Egypt. Thus we will identify with the pain of those who are on the bottom levels of society, and show compassion towards them, and do all we can to rehabilitate them. And during their six years of servitude, we will respect them; the master is commanded to treat him with special honor, such as not serving him wine or bread of lesser quality than his own, and other such laws, to the point that the Gemara says, "Whoever acquires a Hebrew slave is like one who has acquired a master over himself" (Kiddushin 20a).  When he is sent free, the master must give him gifts, and he then returns to being a slave only to G-d. This is in remembrance of Creation, which was effected with the trait of compassion (see Rashi to B'reshit 1,1, as well as 2,4).

Emuna: Nothing Like Prayer with Repentance

by the late Chief Rabbi of Israel & Rosh Yeshivat Merkaz HaRav, Rav Avraham Shapira ZT"L, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

In Chapters of the Fathers (Pirkei Avot 2,18) we learn the words of R. Shimon ben Netanel (Rshb"n, mentioned beforehand in Mishna 10):

When you pray, do not perform your prayers by rote, but rather render them [an appeal for] mercy and grace before G-d, as is written: "For He is gracious and full of mercy, slow to anger, abundant in kindness, and relenting of the evil decree"(Joel 2,13).

This teaching appears to parallel very closely a teaching by R. Eliezer in another Mishna (B'rachot 4,4): "One who renders his prayers by rote, it is not [an appeal for] mercy."

However, there is a big difference between them: Rshb"n added a verse to prove his point.

But this is very puzzling: What proof is there in the verse from Joel regarding Rshb"n's teaching? The verse speaks of one who did t'shuvah, repentance, whereas Rshb"n was speaking about prayer!

The explanation is this: In the above-cited Mishna 10, Rshb"n was specifically commended as one whose outstanding quality was "fear of sin." That is, he was always replete with fear of sin – even when he prayed. His prayer was one of "fear of sin," which necessarily results in t'shuvah – and that is why he cited, in his teaching about prayer, a verse having to do with t'shuvah.

That is to say: Rshb"n wished to teach us that our prayers must stem from t'shuvah. After one does t'shvuah, all of his good deeds and his mitzvah-actions take on a new light. We see this in the classic work by Rabbeinu Yonah entitled Shaarei T'shuvah (The Gates of Repentance). Its first two "gates" deal with t'shuvah, followed by a section on mitzvot that seem to have nothing to do with t'shuvah. Why is this? Because after a person does t'shuvah, all of his mitzvot receive new meaning.

The same is true for prayer: Once one is engaged in t'shuvah, his prayer is different; it is powered by t'shuvah, and is lit up in the light of t'shuvah. Rshb"n comes to teach us that our prayers must always be of that type – and that is why he cites the verse from Joel.

The Rambam (Maimonides) speaks precisely of this type of prayer. He writes that "one of the ways of t'shuvah is for the returnee to cry out always before G-d." This is actually a novel thought of the Rambam, for we don't find that he holds that there is a special prayer of t'shuvah.

To elaborate on this point: We know that the Rambam and the Ramban (Nachmanides) have a fundamental disagreement on the obligation of prayer. The latter holds that the Torah obligation is to pray during times of trouble, such as, "When there is war in your land, against an enemy who oppresses you…" (Bamidbar 10,9), and as King Shlomo explained (Kings I 8, 33-39). Thus, the Ramban maintains that the mitzvah of prayer is reserved for times of trouble, when one must do t'shuvah and pray that the evil decree be rescinded and that his sins be forgiven.

However, the Rambam's approach is that any type of prayer is a daily Biblical obligation, and there is no need for a special Torah directive to pray specifically when we are in trouble – for we must pray in any event. We therefore would not have thought that there was a special prayer for or about t'shuvah – but when the Rambam tells us that "crying out" is one of the "ways of t'shuvah, this is a great lesson for us regarding his view of the concept of prayer.

In sum: There is a special obligation to pray amid and with t'shuvah - and just like any other mitzvah, prayer that is done in this way is on a much higher level than other prayer.