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Sunday, August 2, 2015

Parashat Ekev 5775 Rain


Echoes of Eden
Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Ekev 5775
Rain

This past week was a difficult one here in Israel. There were two separate incidents of murder and attempted murder: First, a man who, based on his external dress, could be called an orthodox, or even ultra- orthodox Jew, attacked other Jews in the center of Jerusalem. Second, an Arab family was attacked, resulting in the death of their youngest child, a toddler named Ali; although the investigation is still underway, the evidence appears to indicate that the perpetrator or perpetrators are, again, “observant” Jews. In both cases, the victims of this unthinkable violence were the very members of society who often feel most persecuted and vulnerable: the gay community on the one hand, and the Arab community on the other.

For two thousand years, Jews have endured one particular challenge in almost every corner of the globe: They have lived as a persecuted minority. With the establishment of the State of Israel, a new challenge emerged: Suddenly, for the first time in millennia, we have been forced to grapple with the challenge of being in charge, of being the majority. So many long-forgotten issues arose with the re-establishment of Jewish sovereignty: How will minority groups be treated in the Jewish State? How will those who are “different” be made to feel? Will we protect those “others” – the disenfranchised, the outsiders, or will we make them feel vulnerable?

Although this week’s parashah does not address this topic directly, we may gain insight into the Jewish approach to communal life through Moshe’s final lessons to the Jews as they prepare to enter the Land. Moshe speaks about the need to obey the word of God, to obey the commandments. The consequence of disobedience, he warns them, is lack of rain. (Dvarim 11:16,17) Conversely, if the people follow the will of God, we are assured that rain will fall in the proper quantity and season; economic success is insured. (Dvarim 11:13-15)

What is clear from this section is that the resulting prosperity is collective, and not individual. The rain will not fall only on my crops while my neighbor’s field suffers from drought. The experience of living in a country – especially our country, the Land of Israel, which has a particularly sensitive spiritual constitution - is one of collective economic destiny. Famine, as well as plenty, is a shared reality, and is the result of the behavior of the collective.

There are those who would argue that precisely because of this shared destiny, the religiously sensitive person must step up, take the law into his or her own hands, and insure that the Torah’s commandments are obeyed and enforced. This approach leads to vigilantism of the type we have been subjected to this past week, and it is anathema to Judaism.

From the dawn of our history, Judaism has abhorred murder. The seven Noachide laws (Bereishit 9:5,6) applied to Jews before the covenant at Sinai, and the Ten Commandments include the prohibition of murder (Sh’mot 20:13). Rambam (Maimonides) describes why the taking of a life is considered so severe:

Although there are other sins that are more serious than murder, they do not present as serious a danger to society as murder does. Even idol worship - and needless to say, sexual sins or the violation of the  Sabbath - are not considered as severe as murder, for these other sins involve man's relationship with God, while murder also involves man's relationship with his fellow man.
Whoever commits this sin is an utterly wicked person. All the mitzvot that he performs throughout his lifetime cannot outweigh this sin or save him from judgment. (Laws of Murder and Preservation of Live chapter 4 law 9)

The sin of murder eclipses any good deeds the murderer has done or will do in the future. Thus, a person dressed in “religious garb” who commits murder – is simply a murderer in religious garb, no more and no less. Neither the choice of clothing nor any other religious behavior or affectation will save him or her when the time comes to stand before God and be judged. A murderer may clothe himself in any fashion he chooses, but he is naked in terms of spirituality.

According to Rambam, murder is the most terrible sin precisely because it poses the gravest threat to human society. Taking another person’s life (other than cases of self- defense) - no matter who they are or what you believe them to be guilty of - causes the delicate fabric of society to unravel.[1] Murder pollutes the collective, undermines society at its most basic level – and makes prosperity impossible for each and every individual as well as for society as a whole.  
   

For a more in-depth analysis see:


Echoes of Eden

[1] Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk (1843-1926), in his commentary to the Torah Meshech Chochma(Shmot 21:14), opines that the killing of a non-Jew is even worse than the killing of a Jew.

Essays and Audio Parashat Ekev


Essays and Audio Parashat Ekev

The Echoes of Eden Project
Parashat Ekev 5775 -Rain

Essays:
With All Your Hearts and All Your Souls

The Little Things
with Hebrew notes –
http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2010/07/parshat-ekev-5770-little-things.html
Walking Together With God
with Hebrew notes –
http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2009/08/parshat-ekev-5769.html

Reward and Punishment

Audio
Parshat Ekev / God Consciousness


Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Parashat Va’etchanan 5775 The Crucible

Echoes of Eden
Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Vaetchanan 5775
The Crucible

The great tragedy of Moshes life was the fact that he did not complete his mission; he would not bring the people to the Promised Land. In fact, we might say that this is actually two tragedies: On a personal level, it is almost inconceivable that Moshe, our greatest leader and teacher, our staunchest defender and most dedicated shepherd, would not see the Land of Israel up close, not be forgiven and allowed to reap the rewards of his years of unflinching dedication. On the other hand, Moshes fate symbolizes a national tragedy: The entire generation that had experienced the wonders of the Exodus, the splitting of the sea, the Revelation at Mount Sinai and so much more, would also perish in the desert. The land will be inherited and enjoyed by their children.

Moshe begs to see the land. God understands precisely what it is that Moshe prays for, and although He commands Moshe to desist from further entreaties, God does, in fact, fulfill Moshes prayer in a very literal sense. Moshe is allowed to climb to a mountaintop vantage point and see the land, - but only from afar.

As Moshe continues his speech to the young generation who will soon go where he is not permitted to tread, it becomes painfully obvious to them that Moshe will not be joining them for the final leg of the journey. He takes this last opportunity to warn them about the consequences of idolatry, and pleads with them to keep the commandments in order to insure that the inheritance they are about to receive not be forfeited.

We may wonder how Moshes final words were received by this young, eager generation. Did they find it incongruous that Moshe, the greatest man they had ever known, the man who now stands before them and exhorts them about right and wrong, sin and its punishment, will himself be banned from entering the Land? Were they perhaps intimidated by the knowledge that even Moshe, who was the greatest prophet who ever lived, was unable to live up to Gods standards? Were they disheartened by the thought that if Moshe had fallen short, it seemed impossible that any mortal could succeed?

Apparently, Moshe was sensitive to these unspoken doubts and ruminations. As he begins his final series of lectures, he describes his personal predicament in very particular language, using an unusual turn of phrase that may give us a glimpse of his frame of mind and allow us to share his perspective. While other nations may worship the sun and moon and stars, he explains, the Jewish People is different. But you, God Himself took, and He brought you out of the iron crucible that was Egypt, so that you would be His heritage nation, as you are today. (Devarim 4:20)  While the image of the fiery crucible has captured the imagination of many commentaries and remains an enduring metaphor throughout Jewish history, Moshe may have had a very particular idea in mind when he first coined the phrase.

Rashis comments on this verse are terse; he explains that the crucible reference means that the Jews are like gold, but does not elaborate. Two 19th century scholars explained this passage at length, coming to widely divergent conclusions: Rabbi Yaakov Zvi Meklenberg (1785-1865) refers to the process of smelting in which metals are purified of dross, and explains that the period of enslavement in Egypt had the same purpose: The Jews were subjected to a painful process that rid them of those who were unworthy, in order to allow them to meet their destiny unencumbered by those who would hold them back. This human dross would have fomented even more unrest and rebellion, and would have been unwilling and unable to receive the Torah or to fulfill the covenant they would undertake as a nation.  

Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888) had a very different approach. Rather than intimating that there were impurities in the Jewish nation that had to be burned off in the fiery furnace of Egyptian slavery, Rabbi Hirsch saw the crucible as an experience that gave strength and polish to the morals of the newly-emerging nation. The fires destroyed everything that had been before, allowed the Jews to distill their essential qualities and hone their identity. It is this view of the crucible that may allow us to understand Moshes words: His reference to the crucible is his attempt to point out one of the defining characteristics of Jewish nationhood. We are a people with a great capacity to suffer because we have a profound ability to see the long-term repercussions of our actions. Our enslavement in Egypt had not come as a surprise; not only was it foretold to Avraham, it was willingly accepted by him and his descendants as part of a long-term covenant. Avrahams children would inherit the Land of Israel, they would become a covenantal community and enjoy a unique relationship with God - - but only after 400 years of exile, hardship and slavery. Yaakov accepted this birthright with all its conditions; he and his children, the very core of the Jewish People, were willing to suffer in the short term in order to achieve the long-term payoff. Only a people with complete faith in the future, only those who are willing to postpone gratification in favor of a much greater spiritual destiny, are capable of accepting a covenant of this kind.

Long before Nietzsches Twighlight of the Idols, Moshe reminded us that the crucible of Egypt and the experience of slavery did not break us, did not eradicate us as a family or as a covenantal community, did not corrupt our morals; it not only made us stronger, it made us who we are. As he stands at the borders of the Promised Land but is denied entrance, Moshe himself is a living example that gratification of personal desires is far less important to the Jewish ethos than is the larger national destiny. Moshe is able to accept a world in which he is denied his hearts desire, he is able to withstand his personal pain and frustration, because he has complete faith in the future of the Jewish People and the Word of God.

Moshes message to the nation moves seamlessly from an account of his own personal pain to an inspiring account of the strength of his beloved people, even in the face of setbacks that lasted many generations. They have come through the crucible as a nation and they are gold, they are strong, they have been endowed with greatness. The suffering and humiliation, even the death of loved ones that they experienced in the crucible of slavery, has made them stronger, more united, more determined, as well as more aware of the suffering of others. They have refined the ability they inherited from their forefathers to take the long view, to see past the setbacks, even when these have been tragic and extreme. And now, they must see past the death of their greatest prophet and leader. Jewish history, Moshe reminds them, is measured in millennia, not in minutes, and he assures them that they have what it takes to begin the next chapter -  just as we, even today, so many generations and so many setbacks later, have what it takes to march toward the fulfillment of our glorious destiny.

For a more in-depth analysis see: http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2015/07/essays-and-audio-vetchanan.html

                                                     Echoes of Eden

Correspondence with Professor Alan Dershowitz Regarding Rav Elchanan Wasserman


Rabbi Ari Kahn
    Hashaked 5/3 Givat Zev
     Jerusalem Hills 90917
     p.o.b. 443


18 Elul 5756
September 2nd 1996 

Professor Alan Dershowitz
Harvard University
Boston, Mass.

Dear Alan,
I hope that this note finds you well. Thank G-d everything is well here, things returned to normal .....

Prior to your request for the letter of Rav Elchanan Wasserman, (which we discussed) I began to search for it myself.  My gut reaction was similar to yours, “How can a man leave America to knowingly be killed in Europe?” I had heard some of the legends surrounding Rav Elchanan's demise over the years, and I had never taken the time to try to distinguish fact from fiction. As a result of our discussion I decided to research the issue, therefore I thank you for being the impetus for this learning and clarification.

The legends spoke of a man leaving the comforts of America in order to be with his students in Europe, much in the way of a captain   going down with his ship[1]. When confronted by the enemy he never stopped teaching Torah, and like Rabbi Akiva of old, he died after giving a class about martyrdom. Eyewitnesses described him as looking like an “angel of G-d”. Reportedly some of the Nazis were afraid of the Rabbi who “glowed”, but in the end he was taken out and shot.
I can not evaluate where the facts end, and embellishment begins. However, I have succeeded in reconstructing some the pertinent facts.

As for the letter, I had assumed the letter was in His collected writings called in Hebrew “Kovetz Mamarim”. Indeed , I found one letter, written to the “Young Israel” movement dated 1939 [2].  The letter, however does not explain anything on a personal level, rather he responds to their willingness to help[3]. He responds almost exclusively on a theological level, with an analogy of a medical patient who complains of symptoms; the doctor should treat the symptoms, but more importantly should find the cause. So, too, the Jews in Europe are suffering greatly, but what is the spiritual cause? And what is the spiritual prescription? He proceeds to analyze the spiritual issues which he thinks should be brought to the attention of the masses. Interesting, but not what I was looking for.

In the course of searching for the letter, I was, as I said, able to reconstruct some important facts:

      1.     Most importantly, Rav Elchanan left America before the war began, and no one knew at the time what was in store for European Jewry. I was told by a friend, who was a student of Rav Elchanan`s son Rav Simcha, that he once discussed this with Rav Simcha who said  “my father had no idea of what would be; had he known, he never would have returned[4] to Europe.
2.     The people that discussed with him, the possibility of his staying in the U.S. reported great ambivalence[5]. He was torn, obviously aware that returning meant some type of danger, but he felt he was needed in Europe.
Here are some of the quotes attributed to Rav Elchanan: When told that his other 2 sons may be able to escape he replied “What about my other 400 sons (the number of students in his yeshiva)? [6]
When asked pointedly how in terms of Jewish law he was permitted to return he said “I am a soldier who must return to the front”[7]
3.     Once back in Europe and the nefarious plans of the Nazis became clear he instructed people that anything that can be done to avoid danger must be done.[8]
4.     Rav Elchanan himself tried on numerous occasions to escape, mainly to Israel[9], once the real horrors of the Holocaust became clear.[10]

The letter however was not mentioned in the biography or any other secondary source. To make a long story short, I finally found a photocopy of the letter, the main section reads:

Friday Parshas Naso Talma[11]

I received your letter but I could do nothing about it, so I did not respond. I am unable to bring the students to the Yeshiva of Dr. Revel or Beis Medrish Litorah in Chicago, for they are both places of spiritual danger, for they are run in a spirit of “free thinking” [prevalent in these places]. What would one gain to escape physical danger in order to then confront spiritual danger? But I sent your letter to Rabbi Shlomo Heiman the head of the Yeshiva Mesifta Torah VaDaas in Brooklyn. My advice is that you contact him and have him write a letter to------ the address is------------------
Elchanan Bunim Wasserman



Some important background
1.     The consideration of physical danger and spiritual danger, can be found in the writings of many sages, most notably the famed Chafetz Chaim, Rav Elchanan`s  mentor , had said such things about America, especially before and during World War one.
2.     Even during the early part of the War Rav Elchanan was concerned about people with young impressionable children who were contemplating going to America.[12]
3.     Having been to America and personally seen the relative spiritual wasteland that it was, Rav Elchanan was further (initially) convinced that the old policy of the Chafetz Chaim should remain in force.[13]
4.     I sense some ambivalence in the letter; was he against coming to America, or was the problem Y.U. (“Dr. Revels Yeshiva”)? Was he perhaps simply trying to get an invitation from a more acceptable yeshiva?

In conclusion, I think the facts stand on their own, but of course you and all students of history will draw their own conclusions. My study brought me in touch with a great Jew who lived and died for his people, and was dedicated to his students in a manner which is unfathomable to the modern mind.
We are bidden in Pirki Avot not to judge our friend until we find ourselves in his place. Perhaps by judging people we tempt Fate, as it were, to put us in that place. Let us hope and pray that no Jew - no person - is ever put in that type of situation again.
If I can be of assistance in any way please do not hesitate to contact me.
May the coming year be a year of health and prosperity to all of G-d`s children. May you and your family enjoy health and happiness, and may you be inscribed in the book of the righteous.

Ari 



[1] One can find this phrase in Rav Elchanan`s, justification for returning to eastern Europe from London in the spring  of 1939 Or Elchanan  (A biography written about the man and his teachings)page 213, although the source also cites a more mystical consideration.
[2] I later saw the letter referred to as the last published letter
[3] This is my assumption - their letter was not published
[4] As it was, he did instruct his son to stay in the U.S. Legend: Rav Simcha reportedly said that it was then that he realized that he would never have children, (see below).
[5] Or Elchanan page 213, the source was his son Rav Simcha
[6] “Or Elchanan” page 212.
[7] Or Elchanan page213
[8] Or Elchanan page 239,270
[9]  A Facsimile of the letter is in Or Elchanan on page 273, notice the handwriting matches the letter which I found.
[10] Or Elchanan page 271, it is recounted that once he was waiting online for a visa to Israel, one of his students was in front of the line and tried to entice Rav Elchanan to trade places on line, Rav Elchanan refused. See page 276 for other attempts at escape.
[11] Apparently the name of the city he was in, no year is given.
[12] Or Elchanan 246, 247
[13] Rav Elchanan was in America primarily for fund-raising purposes.