Parashat Bereishit 5776 Garden Party

Echoes of Eden

Rabbi Ari Kahn

Parashat Bereishit 5776

Garden Party

It was a brand new world, pristine and holy. Adam was placed in this nurturing environment, and was given few instructions: To protect and work the Garden, to procreate…and then there was something about a tree.

And Almighty God planted a garden in Eden in the east, and He placed there the man whom He had formed. And Almighty God caused to sprout from the ground every tree that is pleasant to look at and good to eat, [including] the Tree of Life in the midst of the garden, and the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil. (Bereishit 2:8-9)

Now Almighty God took the man, and He placed him in the Garden of Eden to work it and to guard it.  And Almighty God commanded man, saying, "Of every tree of the garden you may certainly eat. But of the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for on the day you eat from it, you shall surely die." (Bereishit 2:15-17)

With a beautiful, pastoral, idyllic life ahead, Adam and Eve do the unthinkable: They partake of the fruit of the deadly tree, the very tree they were warned about, and, indeed, the result is that death comes to the world.

In the aftermath of this monumental sin, God stations guards at the entrance to the Garden, to protect the Tree of Life (3:24). This tree has the power to counteract the poisonous effects of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Had Adam and Eve been able to access the Tree of Life, the results of their transgression would have been neutralized. This leads us to raise an obvious question: Why did Adam and Eve not eat from the Tree of Life first, and only then eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil? The fruit of the Tree of Life could have served as a prophylactic against the poison!

The Ohr Hachaim (3:22) addresses this question, and his answer is based on shrewd insight into the human psyche: Precisely because the Tree of Life was not prohibited, it was not alluring. Mankind has a peculiarly obsessive desire for the things that we cannot have, even – or perhaps especially - when these things might kill us. Adam and Eve had no trouble walking right past the Tree of Life, never giving it a second thought. It became attractive only after they had succumbed to the temptation of the forbidden fruit, only when they were in need of a cure for their self-inflicted suffering.

Other commentators are of the opinion that the Tree of Life was more of an antidote than an inoculation: It would have been ineffective against the effects of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil had it been ingested before the sin. The “medicine” would work only after the patient became ill, not before.

If this is the case, a second question arises to replace the first: If the fruit of the Tree of Life is only effective as an antidote to sin, why did God create it, and then banish Adam and Eve from the Garden and deny their access to it, even going so far as to place armed guards to block the path lest they partake of this tree? (Bereishit 3:22-24) 

Apparently, the answer lies in the timeline. Following the sin, God did not exile them immediately. Instead, He approached Adam slowly, gradually, and drew him into conversation. He left Adam time and opportunity to admit his guilt, to take responsibility for his actions. God engaged Adam, gave him cues to help him realize the enormity of the sin, and a window of opportunity to pray for forgiveness. Perhaps the Tree of Life was created in order to be used during this window of opportunity, in case man was unable to withstand temptation and fulfill the commandments he had been given. God created the poison, but he also created the antidote. All Adam had to do was express remorse and commit to improving his ways, and the antidote would have been available to him. Neither Adam nor Eve stepped up; they never expressed the slightest remorse nor asked God to forgive their sin, nor did either of them indicate in any way that they would try not to sin again. Perhaps they enjoyed the taste of the forbidden fruit so much that they were addicted to its poison.

In the final account, Adam and Eve, who were charged with protecting the Garden, instead became the ones to abuse it. Had they subsequently owned up to their offence, had they taken advantage of the time God offered to them to grapple with the meaning and repercussions of their actions, had they committed to more responsible and less self-destructive behavior in the future, the antidote stood right before their eyes, as it had been from the start. With the help of the Tree of Life, perhaps they might have been allowed to stay in the Garden to enjoy its fruits.

For a more in-depth analysis see:

http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2015/10/essays-and-lectures-bereishit.html

Echoes of Eden

Essays and Lectures Bereishit

Essays and Lectures Bereishit

Lectures:

The First Argument

http://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/841788/Rabbi_Ari_Kahn/Kain_and_Hevel

Parashat Bereshit / Clothing Of Light

http://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/749303/Rabbi_Ari_Kahn/Bereshis-Clothing_of_Light

Parashat Bereshit / Clothing The Soul

http://rabbiarikahn.com/audio?id=166

Adam and Eve; In Search of the Serpent

http://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/841787/Rabbi_Ari_Kahn/Adam_and_Eve-_In_Search_of_the_Sepent

Berishit; a Book Review

http://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/801846/Rabbi_Ari_Kahn/Berishit;_a_Book_Review

Essays:

Garden Party

http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2015/10/parashat-bereishit-5776-garden-party.html

“The Shabbat App”

http://rabbiarikahn.com/pdf/bereishit_5775_the_shabbat_app.pdf

Working and Guarding

http://echoesofeden.rabbiarikahn.com/pdf/parshat_bereishit_working_and_gaurding

In Search of the Serpent

http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2009/10/parshat-bereshit-5770-in-search-of.html

Clothing of Light

http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2008/10/berishit-new-shiur.html

Revelation and Concealment

http://rabbiarikahn.com/writing?id=12

The First Argument

http://rabbiarikahn.com/writing?id=14

The First Man

http://rabbiarikahn.com/writing?id=221

Parashat V’zot Habracha 5776 From Sinai to Jerusalem

Echoes of Eden

 Rabbi Ari Kahn

Parashat V’zot Habracha 5776

From Sinai to Jerusalem

In the final parashah of the Torah, Moshe takes leave of his people by blessing them:

And this is the blessing with which Moshe, the man of God, blessed the children of Israel [just] before his death. He said: "God came from Sinai and shone forth from Se’ir to them; He appeared from Mount Paran … (Devarim 32:2)

As a preface to the blessings he is about to bestow upon them, Moshe makes reference to two specific geographical locations, two places that have been mentioned before but whose significance he does not explain:  Se’ir and Paran. Rashi, drawing upon earlier traditions[1], fills in the blanks for us:

…and shone forth from Se’ir to them: [Why did He come from Se’ir?] Because God first offered the children of Esav [who dwelled in Se’ir] that they accept the Torah, but they did not want [to accept it].

…from Mount Paran: [Why did God then come from Paran?] Because He went there and offered the children of Yishmael [who dwelled in Paran] to accept the Torah, but they [also] did not want [to accept it]. (Rashi, Devarim 32:2)

                         

Rashi, always a sensitive reader of the text, explains these cryptic references to long-forgotten places through the application of a well-known tradition that has clear textual grounding: Yishmael, son of Hagar and Avraham, “settled in the Paran wilderness” after he and his mother were banished from Avraham’s tent (Bereishit 21:21), while Esav’s domain in Se’ir was well-known to this generation of Israelites, who had been instructed to steer well clear of the inheritance given to the other son of Yitzchak (Devarim 2:5). Rashi deftly weaves the textual associations of Se’ir and Paran together with the tradition regarding their unwillingness to accept the Torah: Each of these sons of Avraham had been given the opportunity to become the People of the Book, as it were, but each had rejected the offer when they found out what was involved.

This approach stands in stark contrast to the approach of the Children of Israel. At the foot of Mount Sinai, when offered the Torah, they responded without hesitation:  “Na’aseh v’nishma” – “we will do and we will hear”. They accepted the Torah “sight unseen”, as it were, without question, without consideration of the pragmatics, of the demands that their acceptance of this Divine gift would entail.

The relationship between God and the Children of Israel is not dependent upon the content of the Torah; rather, the Torah is an expression of the unique relationship between them. This relationship, also described by Rashi, in the verse that prefaces Moshe’s parting blessings:

“And this is the blessing with which Moshe, the man of God, blessed the children of Israel [just] before his death. He said: "God came from Sinai…’”

He came out toward them when they came to stand at the foot of the mountain, as a bridegroom goes forth to greet his bride, as it is said, “[And Moshe brought the people forth] toward God” (Shmot 19:17). We learn from this that God came out toward them. (Rashi, Devarim 32:2)

In a sense, when the Jews accepted the Torah, they entered into a covenant with God, taking a vow similar to those of marriage. When a man and woman are wed, they do not know what fortune (or perhaps misfortune) awaits; their future is a book that is as yet unwritten. Their marriage is not based upon any assurance of what the content of that book will be; it is based upon their love for one another, and the decision that they wish to share the journey into the unknown. Rashi contrasts the pragmatic relationship, the aborted relationship between God and the nations that live in Se’ir and Paran, with the loving relationship entered into by those who declared “na’aseh v’nishma”, who had no expectation of reading the content of the book before making the loving commitment to the future of their relationship. Esav and Yishmael demanded to read the fine print before entering into the covenant; what they read seemed to them excessively demanding, and they declined God’s offer. The sons of Yaakov, on the other hand, had complete trust in the One who had offered them the covenant, and wanted nothing more than the loving relationship that this covenant would foster.

There may be a deeper level to this teaching: The names of the two protagonists, Esav and Yishmael, are suspiciously similar to the two words said by the children of Israel, na’aseh v’nishma (we will do we will listen). Taking careful note of the roots of these Hebrew words unlocks layers of meaning that might be overlooked in translations: The word na’aseh (we will do) shares the root asah with the name of Yitzchak’s son Esav, while nishma (we will listen) shares its root, shama, with the name Yishmael.[2]

There are several conclusions that we might draw from this etymological lesson: On the one hand, we might see within it an emphasis on the fidelity of the Jews versus the hesitation of those who perhaps might lay claim to some part of the inheritance of Avraham: The Children of Israel succeeded, in declaring na’aseh v’nishma, where the children of Esav and Yishmael had failed. Furthermore, we may say that in using these precise words, the Children of Israel channeled the spiritual power and potential that the others had forfeited.

On the other hand, as we approach the final verses of the Five Books of Moshe - and begin again, returning to Genesis, to Bereishit, to Creation, perhaps there is a new hope. All of mankind was created in the image of God; the entire world was created with spiritual potential. The message of the last chapter of Devarim leads directly to the message of the first chapter of Bereishit: those who succeeded in creating this unique, loving bond with God, and those who failed. We are given the opportunity to pause and wonder, to pause and hope, that the realty of the past does not dictate the destiny of the future. We do not rest on the laurels of the blessings of V’Zot HaBrachah and the knowledge that our relationship with God is unique; instead, we wait for the day that all peoples of the earth will embrace the word of God and live in tranquility.

Also the strangers that join themselves to God to serve Him and to love the name of God, to be His servants… I will bring them to My holy mountain, and make them joyful in My house of prayer; their burnt-offerings and their sacrifices shall be acceptable upon My altar, for My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples. Thus declares the Almighty God who gathers the dispersed of Israel: Yet I will gather others to him, beside those that are gathered. (Yishayahu 56:6-8)

Chazak Chazak V’nitchazek!

For a more in-depth analysis see: http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2015/09/audio-and-essays-vzot-habracha.html

---

[1] See Sifri Dvarim V’zot Habracha Piska 343.

[2] This teaching is found in the commentary of the Vilna Gaon in his Aderet Eliyahu, Dvarim 32:2, and in numerous places in the writings of the Hid”a, who attributes the idea to the Torat Haim (authored by R. Abraham Hayyim ben R. Naftali Tzvi Hirsch Schor, d. 1632) commentary to Talmud Bavli Avoda Zara 2b.

                                               Echoes of Eden

Audio and Essays V’zot Habracha

Audio and Essays V’zot Habracha

Essays:

From Sinai to Jerusalem

http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2015/10/parashat-vzot-habracha-5776-from-sinai.html

V'zot HaBracha – Be Strong

http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2010/09/vzot-habracha-chazak.html

The Last Eight Verses

http://rabbiarikahn.com/writing?id=220

 

Audio:

Truth takes a beating

http://www.yutorah.org/lectures/lecture.cfm/764820/Rabbi_Ari_Kahn/Truth_takes_a_beating

Vezot Habracha

http://rabbiarikahn.com/audio?id=152

Sukkot 5776 Gatherings

  Echoes of Eden

  Rabbi Ari Kahn

Sukkot 5776

Gatherings 
(Hakahel and Chag Haasif)

Toward the end of the Torah, a rare commandment is presented; it is called Hak’hel, and refers to a mass gathering of the entire nation:

Moshe then gave them the following commandment: At the end of every seven years, on the occasion of the Shmitah, on the festival of Sukkot, …' you must read this Torah before all Israel, so that they will be able to hear it. You must gather together the people, the men, women, children and proselytes from your settlements, and let them hear it. They will thus learn to be in awe of the Almighty your God, carefully keeping all the words of this Torah.  (Devarim 31:10-12)

Every seven years, a public gathering is to be held, a mass rally with the Torah at its center. At this event the Torah is to be read aloud so that all the people can hear, learn, and be inspired by the word of God. The image is exciting, energizing; what a wonderful mitzvah this must have been!

And yet, the timing specified in Moshe’s instructions is intriguing: Why is this mitzvah fulfilled only once every seven years? Why at the end of the Shmitah year? Why specifically on the holiday of Sukkot?

On the one hand we may posit that during the Shmitah year, when all farming was suspended, the vast majority of society became full-time “yeshiva students”. During their “sabbatical” from the arduous tasks and inflexible schedule of agricultural life, farmers were finally able to devote the time and energy to Torah study that they sorely lacked during the other six years of the cycle.[1] At the culmination of a year of study, the Hak’hel “rally” is a fitting final chord, a sort of closing ceremony for the year’s spiritual and intellectual endeavors.

While this may explain the timing of Hak’hel at the end of the Shmitah year, it does not explain the connection with the Sukkot festival. Although Sukkot is one of the three yearly festivals on which pilgrimage to Jerusalem is required, it is, in and of itself, a holiday replete with ceremony. Why add this additional mitzvah to an already-laden festival?

The Jewish holidays reflect the agricultural cycle of the Land of Israel, as well as the historical and theological foundations of Judaism. In fact, the festival we know as Sukkot is first introduced in the Torah[2] by its agricultural name, The Festival of the Harvest, without mention of its historical/theological significance. Interestingly, The Festival of the Harvest is presented in the context of the laws of Shmitah:

You may plant your land for six years and gather its crops. But during the seventh year, you must leave it alone and withdraw from it. The needy among you will then be able to eat [from your fields] just as you do, and whatever is left over can be eaten by wild animals. This also applies to your vineyard and your olive grove. (Shmot 23:11)… Keep the Festival of Matzahs. Eat matzahs for seven days, as I commanded you, during the prescribed time in the spring, since this is when you left Egypt. (Shmot 23:15) [Also keep] the Reaping Festival of the first fruits of your produce that you planted in the field. [There is also] the Harvest Festival at the end of the year, when you gather your produce from the field. (Shmot 23:16)

The historical/theological character of The Festival of Sukkot celebrates some very particular aspects of the Exodus[3]: When the Israelites left Egypt, they lived in the wilderness for forty years, protected and sustained by God. The huts we erect on Sukkot commemorate this spiritual and physical dependence on God, the temporary abodes of the desert and the Clouds of Glory with which God shielded us from harm.[4] As such, this festival could just as easily have been celebrated at any time of the year. On the other hand, the agricultural character of the holiday places it firmly at the end of the agricultural cycle, when the harvest is gathered from the fields.[5] This is the aspect of the festival referred to as Hag HaAsif, the holiday of gathering.

With this latter aspect of the festival in mind, the selection of Sukkot in the year immediately following Shmitah as the holiday most appropriate for observing Hak’hel becomes far more intriguing. During the Shmitah year, nothing is planted, and anything that grows on its own is made ownerless[6]:

God spoke to Moshe at Mount Sinai, telling him to speak to the Israelites and say to them: When you come to the land that I am giving you, the land must be given a rest period, a sabbath to God. For six years you may plant your fields, prune your vineyards, and harvest your crops, but the seventh year is a sabbath of sabbaths for the land. It is God's sabbath during which you may not plant your fields, nor prune your vineyards. Do not harvest crops that grow on their own and do not gather the grapes on your un-pruned vines, since it is a year of rest for the land. [What grows while] the land is resting may be eaten by you, by your male and female slaves, and by the employees and resident hands who live with you. All the crops shall [also] be eaten by the domestic and wild animals that are in your land. (Vayikra 25:1-7)

What sort of harvest festival can we possibly observe if there is nothing left in the fields to gather? How can we celebrate by gathering up our produce if all the produce has been declared ownerless? What can the farmer bring to the Beit HaMikdash if he did not work the fields all year, and anything that might have grown has been consumed by any and all takers? Surely, the scheduling of Hak’hel at the end of the sabbatical year is quite precise,[7] and is intended to address these very issues. Rather than rejoicing, together with his family, with the produce he gathers from his fields, the farmer has shared his produce with one and all throughout the seventh year. Now, instead of gathering the bounty of the fields, the people are gathered together. Rather than rejoicing with the physical fruits of the year’s labor, the festival will celebrate the fruits of the year’s spiritual and intellectual labor.

By observing Hak’hel at the end of the Shmitah year, specifically on Sukkot, we celebrate a different kind of Harvest Festival: On this very rare opportunity, we are able to more readily identify the agricultural aspects of Sukkot, the aspects encapsulated in the name Hag HaAsif, precisely because the harvest it celebrates is not agricultural. At the end of the Shmitah year, Hak’hel enables us to make a “siyum” as it were, for a year of study and spiritual growth. The opportunity presented by Hak’hel allows us to draw inspiration from the passing Shmitah year, to allow the kinship and mutual responsibility that lie at the heart of the laws of Shmitah to inspire us all for the next six years, and to allow the Torah that we learned during the sabbatical year to take root in our hearts.[8]

For more in depth study see: http://arikahn.blogspot.co.il/2015/09/essays-and-lectures-for-sukkot-and.html

---

[1] See Hizkuni Dvarim 31:10, Hadar Z’kanim Dvarim 31:10, Ibn Ezra Dvarim 31:10, Ibn Ezra Shmot 20:8

[2] Shmot 23:16.

[3] Vayikra 23:43.

[4] Talmud Bavli Sukka 11b.

[5] See Ibn Ezra, Shmot 23:16; HaKtav v’haKabalah, Shmot 23:16.

[6] Shmot 23:11 “But during the seventh year, you must leave it alone and withdraw from it. The needy among you will then be able to eat [from your fields] just as you do, and whatever is left over can be eaten by wild animals. This also applies to your vineyard and your olive grove.

[7] See comments of R Hayim Palitiel to Shmot 23:16

[8] See comments of R SR Hirsch, and Meshech Hochma to Dvarim 31:10.

Echoes of Eden

Essays and Lectures for Sukkot (and Hakhel)