Emuna for Chanukah: The Third Player in the Contest Between Good and Evil

by Rabbi Elyakim Levanon, Rabbi of the Shomron Regional Council, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The Talmud tells us the story of the most famous Chanukah miracle: "When the Syrian Greeks entered the Holy Temple, they defiled all the oils in the Sanctuary. When the Hasmonean Kingdom later ascended and defeated them, the Jews wished to light the Menorah – but could find only one flask of pure oil that still retained the seal of the High Priest [attesting to its purity], and even this was sufficient for only one day. A miracle occurred, and they were able to light the Menorah for eight days." (Tr. Shabbat 21b) 

Two Forces 

A battle of titans has been raging for many centuries among various worldwide forces. During the ten generations between Adam and Noach, we note two powers that actually started in the Garden of Eden, represented by the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The first struggle began when the world split up into these two parts. Adam and Chava were commanded to both choose good and stay away from evil: "From all the trees in the garden, you may certainly eat, but from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, do not eat" (B'reshit 2,16-17). In this first battle, evil won out, thanks to the wily serpent which tempted Adam and Chava to eat from the forbidden tree, leading to their expulsion from Eden. 

Next came Kayin and Hevel (Cain and Abel), where again the evil emerged victorious over the good. For the ensuing eight generations, G-d gave humanity further chances to choose good, but the final conclusion was: "G-d saw that man's wickedness on earth was great, and that every impulse of his inner thoughts was only evil all the time" (6,5). There was no choice but to flood the world to destruction and rebuild it anew. 

The Triplicate Strand 

What change was to be expected in this new world? Why should the forces of evil not overcome those of good once more?  

The answer is that a triple strand was created. No longer would there be only two forces; to good and evil was added a third one, a mediating force. Just as a court cannot have only two justices, but must include a third one so that a clear decision can be reached, so too the world must not be left alone with only good and bad.  

From then on, the struggle became not simply a head-on clash between good and evil, but rather one in which each side tries to sway the third force to its side. If the forces of good are able to succeed in bringing those in the middle over to their side, the two of them together will overcome evil. But of course the opposite can also be true, Heaven forbid. 

During the next ten generations, from Noach until the Patriarch Avraham, each of the three powers found its place among Noach's three sons: Shem took the banner of the straight and good; Ḥam adopted that which is bad and impure; and Yefet was the intermediary force, blessed by his father accordingly: "May G-d enhance Yefet, and he shall dwell in the tents of Shem" (9,27).  

The Hashmonaim and the Greeks 

The Torah tells us (10,2) that Yavan (Greece) is descended from Yefet, the intermediary force between purity and impurity. The pious try to eat only when they and the food are pure, but even food that has become defiled is permitted for consumption. Yavan stands for the power of "regular food" - human thought, philosophy, all that shows the greatness of mortal wisdom. Sometimes, human thought joins up with sanctity and dwells in the tents of Shem, and sometimes it descends to the pits of impurity, leading to the ruination of that which is holy. 

When the Greeks rose to power, they chose to descend upon the latter path and join with the forces of evil, of Ḥam. They therefore warred with those who continued the path of Shem – Israel – and defiled all that was sacred. The coalition of intermediary and evil nearly defeated the holy. Many throughout the Jewish Nation were drawn to the immorality of Greek culture.  

But the evil did not reach the highest point of holiness in Israel, and the family of priests, led by the High Priest, remained untouched by the impurity: A flask of oil with the seal of the High Priest was saved – and from it Israel drew its strength to spread its light of purity. The light was increased, and gradually all of Israel was restored and returned to the Beit HaMikdash. Miraculously, the Menorah was lit for eight full days, one day after the other, until purity returned to the Nation of Israel.  

Good and Bad Coalitions 

We are witness today to a great empowering of a force that threatens to swallow everything. Nothing seems to stand in its way as it seeks to trample, expel, and destroy "every good portion" in its path. The non-holy powers that exist in Israel – science, academia, technology, integrity, basic ethics – all these should join up with the holiness in Israel, and together build a country on healthy and worthy foundations.  

Unfortunately, however, the median forces joined up with those of evil in many cases and allowed themselves to totally deteriorate. [Regarding the case of Israel's withdrawal from Gush Katif, which ultimately led to the recent Simchat Torah massacre and subsequent war in Gaza,] the courts that were responsible for basic morality abandoned their post and "legalized" the expulsion of thousands of families from their homes. The academic and media worlds were similarly silent in the face of this injustice, which was allowed to take place with barely a protest from these bastions of democracy. 

Here must come the forces of holiness and rise up with confidence and sense of mission to take up the mantle of leadership. They must attract and draw to them the positive forces that are certainly to be found among the "secular" public.  

The joining up together of holy and secular forces, with the holy leading the way, can and will ultimately shed its light on the negative forces found within our nation. Together, the two will succeed in neutralizing the poison of the evil elements and return them as well to the chain of positive action, to build and not destroy, to plant and not uproot.  

The nation walking in darkness will see great light! 

Emuna for Chanukah: Competition and the Lonely Road to Heaven

by Rabbi Haggai Londin, Rosh Yeshivat Hesder Holon, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The period of Chanukah – the eight-day holiday that begins this year next Thursday night – is a good time to recall the cultural war that took place two millennia ago between ancient Greece and Israel. 

On the one hand, there is an idolatrous world that sees only blind nature and chance running the world. On the other hand, there exists the Jewish world that believes that we can overcome these restrictions.   

There are many ramifications to this struggle between us and Western culture, the offspring of ancient Greece. One of these is the concept of competition. The world in which we live is one in which competitiveness reigns in nearly every sphere. Whether it be sports, test scores, the workplace, style-and-fashion, and even in Torah – we find ourselves comparing ourselves and being compared to others.  

The competitions begin at an early age: A child comes home from school with a good test score, and the parents' first question is: "What did the other kids get?" The child thus learns very clearly that in order to be happy, it's not enough for you to be successful; the others have to be less successful.  

Then, of course, the parents continue this lesson with declarations such as, "Our daughter will go to the high school where the best girls go," "Why can't you be like your brother?", and even, "How dare they not accept our child to be a counselor in the youth movement?!"  

New recruits into the army are asked, "What, you're not in a combat battalion?" and high school graduate girls are reminded all-too-often, "Nearly all the girls in your class are married already!"  

All this is accompanied by our own thoughts: "I'll never be as pretty as her!" or "How come the Cohens [or Levis] have more money than me [or perhaps a larger house, or greener grass]?"  

Sometimes this feeling of competition reaches heights that are beyond the rational. I was once at a memorial service where it was festively announced that the last request of the deceased had been "to have the fanciest gravestone in the entire cemetery!" I kid you not. 

The first official competitive institution in history was the Olympics – and it is no wonder that modern competitive sports are rooted in a pagan society such as ancient Greece. Idolatrous man, who perceives the world as one of divisiveness and separation, sees reality as an arena of struggle between warring forces and gods. In the Greek pantheon, many gods are in constant conflict with each other: Zeus quarrels with Hera and Apollo, and Poseidon is always furious with Aphrodite or others. It's all-out war. A pattern of life is therefore established in the pagan culture that relates to everyday life as a war of existence and survival of the fittest. They are always checking to see who's faster, taller, stronger. 

Judaism, on the other hand, believes in a unified perception of reality, one that is a united organic entity. "Hear O Israel, the Lord is our G-d, the Lord is One." Life is not simply a collection of details uncoordinated with each other, but rather the very handiwork of G-d. This means that the success of each individual is beneficial for the entire whole, and his failure is that of the entire community. The materialistic understanding of life sees the world as limited, and therefore it's "either me or you." But in the faith-based outlook, the world is divine and infinite, and as such, there's room for everyone. 

Our Sages teach: "No one can touch any part of that which is prepared for someone else" (Yoma 38b). That is, everyone receives precisely what was designated for him by G-d. Faith in G-d means that no one's success comes at the expense of anyone else. Rather, G-d doles out exactly what each one is supposed to receive.  

Of course, sometimes competition is valuable in order to challenge ourselves to reach greater heights, such as in a good basketball game or chess match. "Jealousy among teachers [or writers, or scholars] increases wisdom" (Bava Batra 21a), for they will try harder to excel. But empowering the act of competing and making our sense of fulfillment conditional on a victory over someone else, is deplorable in its very essence.  

How do we free ourselves from the darkness of Greek culture? Here are a few ideas from every-day life: 

1. The less we watch or take part in competitions, the better. This includes the Bible quiz, game shows, and the like. It is good to announce to the children, "Whoever finishes studying a chapter in Bible or in Mishna [by a certain time] will receive a prize!" There is no need to have them compete and thus pit one child against another. 
2. We must learn to stand up for ourselves without trying to dwarf others. A saying attributed to Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, the father of the Mussar movement, states: "If you want to raise yourself up, build yourself a stage; don't dig a ditch for someone else." Of course, when applying for a job, it is justified to explain why you feel you are perfectly qualified for the position – but there is a thin line, that must not be crossed, between highlighting your virtues, and sneakily presenting the other's faults.   
3. Most important of all: Develop the ability to look at yourself – alone. Constantly comparing ourselves to others stems from over-emphasis on externals, and this is our unwanted legacy from Greece. The body, esthetics, materialism – these are what are valued in Greek culture. But Jewish culture is different: The more one learns Torah, refines his personality, and accustoms himself to find satisfaction in intellectual, emotional, and spiritual pursuits and accomplishments, the less threatened he will feel from the outside world. He will stand before the Master of the Universe and find there his fortune and happiness, without having to worry about others. This is a sense of freedom that releases him from all bonds. As he becomes a free man, he lights within himself a small candle that pushes away so much darkness.  

One of the sentences that have accompanied me throughout my life was told to me many years ago by a certain Torah scholar. I was engaged in justifying something I had done by claiming, "Everyone does it!" He looked at me in silence for a few seconds, and then said with special emphasis, "On your way up to Heaven, you're alone. Don't forget that." I didn't.

Vayishlah: Release Me, for the Dawn Has Broken

by Rabbi Mordechai Hochman, a former Rabbi/Teacher in Yeshivat Beit El, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

When Yaakov was on his way back to the Land of Israel, a "man" wrestled with him. The Medrash explains that this was a struggle within the People of Israel, between the spiritual-angelic spheres and the material-mortal aspects. When the latter relates to itself as nil, the spiritual will truly give it life – and then the dawn will break and both will be Redeemed. 

In this week's Torah portion of Vayishlach, we read (in B'reshit 32,25-31) that a man wrestled with our Patriarch Yaakov until dawn, dislocating Yaakov's hip joint in the process. The man asked Yaakov to release him, "for the dawn has risen," but Yaakov demanded a blessing first. The man asked Yaakov's name, changed it to Yisrael, and blessed him. Yaakov then asked for the angel's name, but received no answer. Let us present an approach to this fascinating incident. 

We have explained elsewhere that Yaakov wished to establish in the Land of Israel a "kingdom of priests and holy nation" (Sh'mot 19,6). But when he encountered a "man" of his own descendants who did not want to live a spiritual life, but sought only to live a normal, physical life like Esav, a "man of the field" (B'reshit 25,27) – he did not reject him. Rather, he informed the "man" that Israel needed him, and that in the holy nation that would arise in the Land, both "angels" and "men" would be required. The "man" agreed to remain until dawn, i.e., until the Redemption. 

That is, while Yaakov did not see this as a healthy phenomenon – described as a "dislocated joint" caused by the struggle with the "man" (32,26) – he still did not want to give up on the physical aspects of Israel. One opinion of our Sages is that the spirituality of the Throne of Glory does not dwell on the actions of such a man, but another opinion, that of R. B'rechya, is that it does dwell on these actions, but only if a certain condition obtains, as we will see. 

First let us cite (in paraphrasal) the Medrash B'reshit Rabba (78,1) on this incident:  

R. Chelbo says in the name of R. Shmuel bar Nachman: "They are new every morning, great is Your faith" (Eccl. 3,23) - No group of angels repeats its praise of G-d from one day to the next; rather, G-d creates a new group every day which says praise and then leaves."  

R. B'rechya objected: "But the angel said to Yaakov, 'Release me, for the dawn has broken' and it is time for me to say praise! And this, despite the fact that he was created the day before!"  

R. Chelbo reacted strongly: "Strangler! Did you think to strangle me?! I asked R. Shmuel bar Nachman myself this question, and he answered me that it is referring to the angels Michael and Gabriel, who are the only two angels that are not replaced." 

R. Chelbo's response is quite strange. Why should he accuse R. B'rechya of wanting to strangle him?! The discussions of the Sages are filled with questions back and forth; why should the questioner be accused of negative intentions? Not to mention that R. Chelbo himself asked the same question! 

Let us first note that when we find the Sages occasionally relating to each other in a strange or unduly aggressive manner, this is not to be understood at face value. Rather, there is the "outer" level of the story, that which is understood at first glance, and then there are additional layers, whose meaning is grasped only after delving further into the matter. The strange stories of the Sages are their way of hinting that we must consider the matter on a deeper level, enabling us to climb to higher and more spiritual levels. 

When R. Chelbo accused R. B'rechya of wanting to strangle him, he was providing a key by which to understand what happened between Yaakov Avinu and the "man" who wrestled with him.  

Firstly, the Torah is called "song" (D'varim 31,19); the Rashbam explains that "song" is an organized account or narrative. Not only is the Written Torah a "song," but the Oral Torah as well. Therefore, when R. B'rechya objects to the organization and logic in the words of R. Chelbo, he seems essentially to be preventing these words from being included in the "song" of the Oral Torah – meaning that they will not be handed down through the generations of Israel. This prevention of being allowed to "sing" is like strangulation! 

And this cry-out by R. Chelbo is also symbolic of what happened between the "man" and Yaakov Avinu. Until this point, the "man" aspect of Yaakov was busy helping the "angelic" Yaakov engage and toil in the song of Torah via his physical and earthly work. But now, as they wrestled, the "man" seemed to be demanding to say a "song" on his own! 

This is in fact an important stage in the Redemption process, because his desire to "sing" is actually the "redemption of the will" – and the stage after that will be the actual Redemption in which the "man" will sing the "song" and be like an angel. But when the angel prevents the "man" from singing, demanding that he first bless him (verse 27), this is a form of strangulation!  

Why, in fact, does the angel wish to "strangle" the man in this manner?  

Let us recall that in B'reshit 14, King Malki-Tzedek blessed Avraham Avinu after the great war – but did not bless his 318 soldiers; for they were only assistants. As we said above, regarding the angel and the earthly "man" here, the latter must fulfill a particular condition before his actions are blessed. Yaakov told the "man," his wrestling partner, as follows: "If you wish to 'sing' on your own, you must first recognize that the angel is the central player here, and that you are only his assistant. You must understand that your success in work and in war is only in the merit of the Torah of the angel." 

The "man" agrees to this condition! He asks Yaakov, standing for the "angel," what his name is, and then says to him, "Your name will no longer be Yaakov, but rather Yisrael – for you have become great before G-d and man; you have won." That is, the "man" acknowledges that the actions of the angel are important and influential both in the upper worlds and in This World – and the name Yisrael shows the linkage between both these worlds.  

Yaakov then turns to the "man" and asks him to tell him his name – but the "man" dismisses this request: "Why should you ask my name?" With this humility, he is showing that he is only ephemeral in this world, and that therefore his name has no real importance. As we read in Job (Iyov14,19-20): "Stones are eroded by water, washed away… but the hope of man You have destroyed. You overpower him to eternity, and he leaves [i.e., he is no more] …" 

In sum, the "man" recognizes the worth of the angel by upgrading his name, and recognizes his own lack of importance by not giving his own name – and this is the very blessing that Yaakov wished to hear from the man. As summed up there: "He blessed him there." 

And by virtue of this acknowledgement and understanding, his own earthly actions are upgraded, and the spirituality of the Throne of Glory can dwell upon them, as stated above. 

The Medrash above concludes that the angels involved were actually Gabriel and Michael – and Gabriel, despite being an angel, is also referred to as "man" (Daniel 9,21).  

When Yaakov Avinu saw that the "man" lowered himself before the angel, he was happy to note, as he had hoped and foreseen, that the spirituality of both was in force. As written at the end of their encounter: "Yaakov named the place Pni-el, 'for I have seen G-d face [panim] to face and my soul was saved.'" That is, he saw here a struggle between two spiritual strengths - "face to face" – and not just between the forces of physicality and spirituality. And he declares that after the "man" has nullified himself, he has now gained a level of spirituality, and thus even the actions of the "man" will be written in the eternal work of the Nation of Israel."  

And when he concludes that "my soul was saved," he is referring to both souls of Israel: that of the angel and that of the "man," who was revealed in the end to be an angel. 

In this article, we have learned that when we see strange behavior on the part of our Sages, we must know that this is their way to arouse us to take a deeper look at the situation and internalize the lesson we are being taught. In this case, their behavior seemed to be strange; but on a deeper level, it taught us the merits of the various groups that exist within our nation.

Emuna: Judging Favorably – Even the Good Ones

by Rabbi Zalman Baruch Melamed, Rosh Yeshivat Beit El and former Chief Rabbi of Beit El, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The Sages teach (Pirkei Avot 1,6): "Judge every person favorably" [though the literal translation is: "Judge the entire person favorably"]. This means that we must judge everyone favorably – both those who are good and those who are less good. 

This is considered a praiseworthy approach – as opposed to having criticism on everyone, which is a foul trait. But even worse than that is one who judges the evil ones favorably, while judging the good people negatively. King Shlomo in Proverbs (17,15) states this clearly: "To acquit the guilty and convict the innocent - both are an abomination to G-d." 

The renowned 18th-century Rav Yechezkel Landau, also known as the Noda B'Yehuda, explained this verse as follows: One who judges a wicked person favorably – that is not terrible; on the contrary, he has a good trait of finding the positive. And one who indicts, in his mind, the righteous – this is also not abominable, though it is not good. But one who does both of these – judging the wicked favorably and also the righteous negatively as he constantly seeks out their shortcomings – about him the verse states: "Both are an abomination to G-d."

The Gemara in Tr. Sanhedrin (p. 26a) tells us that R. Chiya bar Zarnoki and R. Shimon ben Yehotzadak were on the road to Asya to intercalate the year; they were unable to do so in Eretz Yisrael. Resh Lakish met them and decided to join up with them, for he wished to see how it was done. Along their way, Resh Lakish saw a man plowing a field. He said to the other Sages: "Look at this priest who is plowing during the Sabbatical Year [when working the land is forbidden]." They said to him that the man might be a hired worker in a Gentile-owned field, in which case it is permitted. 

Resh Lakish then saw another man pruning vines. He again said, "Look at this priest pruning vines during the Shemitah." They answered that he might need the branches to make a bale [ekel] for his olive press, i.e., not for agricultural purposes, in which case it is permitted. Resh Lakish said to them, in a play on words: "The heart knows whether he is doing so for a bale [ekel], as you say, or in deception [l’akalkalot]…"

The Gemara asks why Resh Lakish assumed the men were priests, and answers: "It is because priests are suspected of desecrating the Sabbatical Year…"

After Resh Lakish continually bothered them with his comments, the two Sages said that he was a nuisance. When they reached their destination where they intended to intercalate the year, they went up to the roof – and then removed the ladder so that Resh Lakish would not be able to join them. Some time later, Resh Lakish came to R. Yochanan and asked, "Are people who are suspected of desecrating the Sabbatical Year [that is, treating it with disrespect] fit to intercalate the year?!"

The question may here be asked: Why did Resh Lakish awaken to this problem only after they removed the ladder and didn't let him into the room? He could have raised this objection as soon as he saw them judging the two men favorably! 

The answer is in keeping with what we said above. At first, Resh Lakish thought that they were judging everyone favorably, which is of course a good trait. But when he saw that they didn't judge him favorably, but rather called him a nuisance and didn't let him join them in the intercalcation procedure, he thought to himself: "They judged them favorably, but not me. This means that they judge people favorably only when it is convenient for them. If so, then given that they judged only these Sabbatical-violators favorably, it could mean that they themselves are guilty of violating the Sabbatical laws." This can be what the Noda B'Yehuda was explaining. 

And thus, we must be careful not to behave in a distorted manner, but rather to judge everyone favorably – both those who are seemingly guilty and, all the more so, those who are righteous.

Vayeitze: The Attributes of Truth and Eternity: One and the Same

by Rabbi Zalman Baruch Melamed, Rosh Yeshivat Beit El and former Chief Rabbi of Beit El, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

In honor of the weekly Torah portion of Vayeitze (B'reshit 28,10-32,3), we bring you a treatise on the Patriarch Yaakov and Beit El, the city he founded, by the founder of modern-day Beit El.

In 1978, during the first months of our residence in what was to become Beit El, when we still lived in caravans in the army camp, without running water, our teacher and rabbi Rav Tzvi Yehuda HaCohen Kook zt"l came to visit us.

We gathered in the military synagogue [which has now recently been renewed for the use of the residents of Beit El's newest neighborhood, Ramat Beit El] and we asked Rav Tzvi Yehuda to speak. He asked us, "Where is the baal habayit, the master of the house?" He was referring to the commander of the military camp, and he explained that without the commander's permission, he had no authority to speak. We ran to find him, and he in fact came, sat down, and spoke to Rav Kook for a few minutes. After receiving his permission to speak, the Rav, in an off-the-cuff manner, delivered a wondrous lecture on Yaakov Avinu and Beit El.

He began with the Patriarch Avraham, continued with Yitzchak, and then reached Yaakov. Rav Kook explained that the trait of Yaakov is that of emet, truth, which is the trait of eternity. Our Sages teach (Taanit 5b) that Yaakov never died – and Beit El, too, has the unique quality of long life, as we learn in the Medrash (B'reshit Rabba 69,8):

"The Torah states that Luz was the original name of Beit El… The same luz with which sky-blue wool is dyed, the luz that Sennacherib attacked but whose population he did not transfer, the luz that Nebuchadnezzar attacked but did not destroy, the luz over which the angel of death never had dominion." This was a city in which life did not end and there was no death; when people became old, they would leave.

The Sages also note that there is a bone in the body called the luz – a special bone that never ceases to exist; even after death, it does not disintegrate. From it, it is taught, the body will be rebuilt and resurrected during T'chiyat HaMeitim (Resurrection of the Dead). That is, it has ever-lasting existence.

Once again we see that there is a connection between the place Beit El (Luz) and long life – and that is the concept of the trait of Truth. This is not a one-sided trait, but rather a central trait, one that is eternal. And this is the trait of Yaakov Avinu.

The Talmud (ibid.) asks: If Yaakov did not die, was it for naught that the Torah tells us that he was eulogized and embalmed and buried? The given answer is that a verse in Jeremiah compares Yaakov to his descendants, and therefore, "just as Yaakov's seed lives forever, so too he lives forever." We can explain that Yaakov Avinu is essentially the entirety of Israel, Clal Yisrael; he is the choice Patriarch, for all his children continued in his path [as opposed to Avraham and Yitzchak]. When his children live, it is as if he is living. "The eternity of Israel will not lie" (Shmuel I 15,29); the eternity of Israel is forever.

This city also has another unique quality. The above Medrash states that the city of Luz had a concealed entrance, hidden among the mountains, and when people would come to the city for the first time, they did not know how to get in. In fact, the entrance was via a luz tree. Concealed things exist for very long. The Sages say: "Blessing is only upon that which is hidden from the eye." Thus, what characterizes Beit El also characterizes Yaakov Avinu. As the Torah states, he dreamt of a "ladder standing on the ground, with its head reaching the heavens" – this is the trait of truth, the trait of eternity.