Thursday, May 27, 2010

Rabbi Dov Kramer on the Parsha

Taking a Closer Look (Rabbi Dov Kramer)

    “And two men remained in the camp; the name of the first was Eldud and the name of the second was Meidud” (Bamidbar 11:26). Rashi, based on Chazal, explains why they “remained in the camp” instead of “going out to the Tent [of Meeting]” (ibid). Moshe had chosen 72 elders, six from each of the 12 Tribes, and had devised a process for deciding which 70 of those 72 elders would make up the newly-forming Sanhedrin. Eldud and Meidud had made the cut to be part of the 72, but due to their humility, didn’t go to the Mishkan to take part in the lottery that would decide who the 70 would be and which two would be left out.

     Moshe’s dilemma was simple; the math didn’t work. G-d had told him to “gather 70 men from the elders of Israel” (11:16), and with 12 Tribes there could not be the same amount of elders from each Tribe. In order to avoid (or limit) the tension and jealousy that might arise as a result of having two Tribes contribute fewer elders, Moshe used a lottery system. He wrote the word “elder” on 70 (or, according to some, 72) slips of paper (or parchment) and added two blank slips, putting all of the slips into a box. Each perspective elder took a slip out of the box, and “whomever took [a slip that said] “elder” became sanctified (as a member of the Sanhedrin), and whomever took [a slip that was] blank, [Moshe] said to him, ‘G-d does not want you” (Rashi).

If two perspective elders took blank slips (implied by Rashi, and explicit in the Yerushalmi, Sanhedrin 1:4), and Eldud and Meidud didn’t take any slips, then there were only 68 finalists who got a slip that said “elder” on it. Yet, Moshe gathered 70 elders and had them stand around the Mishkan (11:24), and they received G-d’s divine spirit through Moshe (11:25). Who were the other two elders? How could there be 70 if only 68 qualified? Did the Sanhedrin end up with two members whom G-d really didn’t want?

The Mizrachi and the Or Hachayim suggest that according to one opinion in the Talmud (Sanhedrin 17a) Eldud and Meidud were actually the two that didn’t qualify. Nevertheless, because they stayed back on their own, they were rewarded with an even higher level of prophecy than the 70 elders. If so, then the other 70 of the original 72 were the ones “chosen by G-d” to become members of the Sanhedrin. However, even they acknowledge that according to the other opinion in the Talmud, Eldud and Meidud were originally supposed to be in the Sanhedrin; if they backed out, we are still left with two “unwanted” members. The Bechor Shor understands that (first) opinion to be saying that Eldud and Meidud were supposed to be part of the Sanhedrin, but explains the second opinion to be that, in order to avoid anyone being embarrassed, they backed out before the lottery even took place. If there never was a lottery, then none of the 72 “finalists” were ever told that they were “unwanted.” However, this is inconsistent with how most understand that opinion, and the issue of having two “unwanted” members of Sanhedrin must still be addressed according to the first opinion. Besides, according to Rashi, both opinions in the Talmud have Eldud and Meidud as qualifying for the Sanhedrin; the only difference between them is whether they stayed back out of humility or out of fear of being embarrassed (see Maharsha).

The Yalkut Shimoni (736), quoting a “lost” Midrash (known as “Midrash Esfa” because it is discussing the verse where Moshe is told to “gather” the elders), provides the names of the 70 elders. Actually, there are two versions quoted, with many names overlapping and others unique to each version. In the second version, Eldud and Meidud are listed as being part of the new Sanhedrin. Rather than having to explain how two that were “unwanted” became part of the Sanhedrin, the question becomes how there were 70 “around the Tent” (11:24) if two of the 70 “remained in the camp.” Numerous reasons are given as to why there were 70 elders (not more or less, see Baal Haturim and Ramban); one reason given (Midrash Hagadol) is based on the perimeter of the Mishkan. The north and south sides of the Mishkan each had 20 beams, and each beam was a cubit and a half wide, so each of those sides had a length of 30 cubits. The western side had eight beams, for a length of 12 cubits, but two of those cubits covered the sides of the western-most beams of the north and south walls, leaving only 10 cubits (internally) on the western side, for a total of 70 cubits (the eastern side didn’t have any beams, just pillars to support the curtain of the doorway). The elders took their respective positions “around the Tent,” each one standing in the cubit they correlated to, but since they were on the outside, they really needed to cover 72 cubits (12, not 10, on the western wall). Midrash Esfa (quoted in Yalkut 737) says that the “Tent [of Meeting]” does not refer to the Mishkan, but to Moshe’s tent, where he still spoke to G-d, which was outside of the nation’s encampment and was also called “the Tent of Meeting” (see Shemos 33:7). [Since we are told explicitly (Shemos 25:22 and Bamidbar 7:89) that G-d spoke to Moshe from the Mishkan, I am assuming that when G-d initiated the conversation, it was from the Mishkan, but when Moshe initiated it, it was in this Tent.] This Tent had the same dimensions as the Mishkan, but without having to compensate for the thickness of any beams, the external perimeter would match the internal one. If Eldud and Meidud “remained in the camp,” the other 70 perspective elders were the ones “outside the camp” standing in their respective cubits around Moshe’s “Tent of Meeting.” If you take a close look at the verse (11:24), it does not say that “the” 70 elders stood around the Tent, but that “70 men, from the elders of the nation” did. The final determination hadn’t been made yet, so all 70 that showed up took their places “around the Tent.” (Had Eldud and Meidud shown up, perhaps they would have combined with the other 72 to represent the 72 cubits of the Mishkan’s external perimeter; even without the thickness of the beams, the space taken up by the bodies of the elders could necessitate 12 on the western side.) The next verse, however (11:25), says that the divine spirit was given to “seven men, the elders,” i.e. the 70 who actually made up the new Sanhedrin. True, only 68 of those “around the Tent” were given that divine spirit; the other two, Eldud and Meidud, the two that had “remained in the camp,” had the divine spirit rest upon them where they were. In the end, though, according to this Midrash, only the 70 “wanted” elders became part of the Sanhedrin.

This only works if Eldud and Meidud were, in fact, part of the Sanhedrin. But they are only included in the second list of names in the Midrash, not the first list (or a third list, in a manuscript in the Vatican quoted as also being part of Midrash Esfa by the Vilna Gaon’s son, R’ Avraham, in “Rav Pe’alim,” pgs. 149-150). Rashi himself (and the opinion in the Talmud he is quoting) would seem to not include Eldud and Meidud in the Sanhedrin, as Yehoshua’s request that Moshe “destroy them” (11:28) is understood as “give them the responsibilities of public service.” Moshe’s response that it would be preferable if the whole nation were prophets seems to indicate that he did not inhibit their prophecy by appointing them to the Sanhedrin, i.e. give them public responsibilities. If Eldud and Meidud should have been on the Sanhedrin but declined, and the two elders that replaced them took a slip without the word “elder” out of the box, necessitating Moshe telling them that G-d didn’t want them, how could two members of Sanhedrin be those that were “unwanted by G-d?”

There is much discussion (e.g. Iyun Yaakov on Sanhedrin 17a) about why Moshe used 72 slips, rather than 12 (since each Tribe would have five “elders,” and the only question was which would have five and which would have six). The very fact that all 72 were put into the same box indicates that all 72 were worthy of being members of the Sanhedrin (not that the first 60 were more worthy than the 12 of whom 10 would make it). We have already discussed how the elders corresponded to the number of cubits of the Mishkan’s perimeter; the 72 pre-qualified elders could be said to correspond to the Mishkan’s outside perimeter. In Meseches Sofrim (2:6), when it lists the amount of lines each “page” in a Torah scroll can have, one of the possibilities is 72, “corresponding to the 72 elders.” Not 70, but 72.We are therefore “forced” to say that when Moshe told them (or would have told them) that they were “unwanted by G-d,” it was in the context of “you’ve already been chosen as one of the 72, and are worthy of being on the Sanhedrin; however, in relation to the other 70 finalists, they are more worthy, and therefore more wanted by G-d.”

Many lessons about leadership can be learned from the appointment of the new Sanhedrin. Included is the necessity of risking being turned down in order to qualify for leadership, as well as taking on the role (when it is given) even when not the first choice.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Rabbi Dov Kramer on Shavuot


Taking a Closer Look (Rabbi Dov Kramer)

    “Moshe received the Torah from Sinai.” These opening words of Pirkay Avos are ingrained in the psyche of the Jewish people. It can’t refer to the “Ten Commandments,” as it wasn’t just Moshe who “received” them; the entire nation heard G-d speak those words (even if they couldn’t discern the words of the last eight). In schools and Yeshivos worldwide, these words are taught to mean that G-d taught Moshe the entire Torah, start to finish - the Written Law and the Oral Law and everything they encompass - during the forty days that Moshe spent atop Mt. Sinai. Indeed, this is what the traditional literature seems to teach us as well. “Scripture, Mishnah, Laws, Talmud, Toseftos, Agados, and even what an earnest student is, in the future, going to say before his teacher, all of them were said to Moshe at Sinai” (Vayikra Rabba 22:1).

    Yet, the Talmud (Menachos 29b) tells us that when Moshe saw G-d connecting “crowns” onto the letters of the Torah, he asked why. Upon hearing that there will be a great scholar (Rabbi Akiva) who will learn out “piles of laws” from these crowns, Moshe asked to be shown this scholar. G-d allows him to “sit in” on one of Rabbi Akiva’s shiurim (lectures), but Moshe was unable to follow what was being taught, which caused him to feel weak. After a student questioned Rabbi Akiva about the source for a particular law, with Rabbi Akiva responding that “it is a law that was taught to Moshe on Mt. Sinai,” Moshe’s mind is put at ease. If every law, every piece of Talmud, every valid point raised by every student in history, was taught to Moshe at Sinai, how could Moshe not have understood what Rabbi Akiva was teaching? Additionally, how could Rabbi Akiva claim that it was a law taught to Moshe, if Moshe himself didn’t know it and couldn’t follow the lecture? No matter how Rabbi Akiva arrived at his conclusion, once the law itself was taught, Moshe should have recognized it; why did it take Rabbi Akiva’s saying it came through Moshe to put Moshe’s mind at rest? Not only that, but why did Moshe even have to ask G-d the reason He was putting “crowns” on the letters in the first place? If he had been taught everything, shouldn’t he have already known that there would be “crowns” and why they were there?

    Rashi (in Menachos) sidesteps these questions (whether on purpose or not) by saying that Moshe hadn’t finished learning all that he was going to be taught. Therefore, once he heard that he just hadn’t reached that part of the curriculum yet, his mind was put at ease. This would fit very nicely with Rabbi Yishmael’s opinion (Chagiga 6a-b) that only the general categories were taught at Sinai, with Moshe being taught the details in the Mishkan; Moshe saw the “crowns” being added while still on Mt. Sinai, but wouldn’t be taught what they were for, or even the law details derived from them, until his private lessons with G-d continued in the Mishkan. However, Rashi (Vayikra 25:1) clearly follows the opinion of Rabbi Akiva who says that all the details were taught at Sinai (and repeated in the Mishkan and then again at Arvos Moav). [The Talmud (ibid) equates Rabbi Yishmael’s opinion with Bais Shammai and Rabbi Akiva’s with Bais Hillel, so it is certainly understandable why Rashi (and the Rambam, Introduction to his Commentary on the Mishnah 1) follows Rabbi Akiva.] Nevertheless, Moshe seeing G-d adding the “crowns” before he had completed his lessons on Sinai can explain why he hadn’t already known why they were there.

    The Maharsha (in Menachos), however, says that Moshe’s request to be shown the scholar who will learn “piles of laws” from the “crowns” was for G-d to “reveal to him those secrets of the connections (i.e. the crowns, which were connected to all those laws) that will be revealed in the future to Rabbi Akiva.” If they wouldn’t be revealed until Rabbi Akiva learned them out, they must not have been taught at Sinai. The Aitz Yosef (a commentary on the Ein Yaakov) says that although Moshe was taught all of the Oral Law, he wasn’t taught how each and every law that was to be transmitted orally was hinted to in the Written Law. Therefore, it wasn’t the laws Rabbi Akiva was teaching that Moshe was unfamiliar with (as Moshe was taught all of them), but how those laws can be derived or remembered (“connected”) via the “crowns” on the letters. This approach isn’t fully satisfactory, though, as it doesn’t explain Moshe “feeling weak” and then “his mind being put at ease.” Did Moshe know that he wasn’t going to be taught the “connections” between the Written Law and the Oral Law? If he did, then not knowing them wouldn’t have been a surprise. He may have “felt weak” if he wasn’t able to comprehend how the connections were made (although limiting Moshe’s ability to comprehend is a bit hard to accept), but this “weakness” shouldn’t have been resolved when Rabbi Akiva attributed the law to what Moshe was taught at Sinai (as it has nothing to do with his ability to follow the process of connecting the Oral Law to the Written Law). Likewise, if Moshe was not aware of these connections or that he was not going to be taught them, wouldn’t G-d have explained that to him when Moshe asked about the “crowns?” If his “feeling weak” was a result of realizing that he wasn’t going to be taught them, how does Rabbi Akiva’s attributing the law to what Moshe was taught at Sinai alleviate this? More importantly, the Midrash (and its parallel in Koheles Rabbah 5:8) doesn’t say that “any law” that a student brings up to his teacher was taught to Moshe at Sinai, but that anything he “says,” meaning his suggestions for how to understand a concept, how to apply it, or how to connect it to the verse, not (just) the law itself. [It should be noted, however, that the parallel statements in the Yerushalmi (Pe’ah 2;4) and Koheles Rabbah (1:9/10) have it as “anything an earnest student will teach.”] The expression being anything other than “any law taught throughout the generations,” especially when it is not the teacher doing the “saying” but the student, indicates that Chazal were not limiting the things taught to Moshe at Sinai to just the laws themselves.

    In the Introduction to his Commentary on the Mishnah (1), the Rambam explains what Chazal meant when they said that every detail was taught to Moshe at Sinai. [It should be noted that, from a practical standpoint, it makes absolutely no difference whether this was taught to Moshe at Sinai or in the Mishkan; either way the transmission was directly from G-d to Moshe, who then passed it along to Yehoshua (etc.).] “Here is an example for you: G-d said to Moshe, ‘you shall live in huts for seven days’ (Vayikra 23:42). Afterwards, He made it known that this obligation applies only to males, not females, nor does it apply to the sick or those who are traveling, [he was taught] that its covering (roof) can only be made from materials that grow from the ground and it cannot be covered with wool or silk or with vessels – even those made from materials that grow from the ground, such as pillows and clothing. And He made known that eating, drinking and sleeping in it (the succah) all sever days is mandatory, and that its inner area cannot be smaller than seven hand-breadths long by seven hand-breadths wide, and that the height of the hut cannot be less than ten hand-breadths.” This is true of all 613 commandments, “the commandment in writing and the details/explanation orally.”

    Later (4), the Rambam creates five categories of law: (1) Details/explanations that were transmitted through Moshe that are hinted to in the Written Law and can be extrapolated from them; (2) Laws that cannot be derived from verses, but were transmitted through Moshe; (3) Laws that were not transmitted through Moshe, but can be extrapolated from verses; (4) Decrees made by the prophets and/or sages to ensure that the biblical commandments are not violated; and (5) Decrees made not to protect already existing commandments, but to help facilitate spiritual growth (such as learning the laws of Pesach a month prior) or societal needs (such as “pruzbol”). The latter three categories were not transmitted by G-d to Moshe and then from Moshe to Yehoshua (etc.), although it is theoretically possible that G-d shared them with Moshe but did not command/authorize him to teach it to the nation (possibly to allow for each generation to have an impact, making it a “living Torah”); the Maharsha’s understanding of Moshe’s request to meet Rabbi Akiva indicates that not everything was taught to Moshe, not that it was taught to him but he had to keep it to himself. [Just as there is no difference in the transmission process whether something was taught to Moshe on Mt. Sinai or in the Mishkan, there is no difference in the transmission process whether it was not taught to Moshe or taught to him but not transmitted to others.]

    When articulating the role of the Sanhedrin (Hilchos Mamrim 1:3-4), the Rambam reiterates his position from his Introduction to his Commentary on the Mishnah that anything that was transmitted through Moshe will never become a matter of dispute. This position is not universally held (see Igeres Rav Sherira Gaon, end of chapter 2); a straightforward reading of the Talmud (Sanhedrin 88b) that the Rambam bases his next halacha (4) on indicates that disputes arose not only regarding new laws enacted, but regarding laws that had been previously transmitted, including those that originated from Moshe who was taught them at Sinai, but had been forgotten. Nevertheless, the Rambam is unequivocal that the disputes in the Talmud arose from differences of opinion about how to enact (or apply) new laws, and these laws did not originate at Sinai. These new laws could fall into any of the three latter categories described above, including the third category, i.e. laws derived from the verses through the system of extrapolation (the “13 attributes” read every morning at the end of “karbanos”). This system of extrapolation was taught to Moshe at Sinai, and he passed it on to be used in every generation to learn out new law details and apply them to any situation that arose (see Maharatz Chiyos on Berachos 5a). [The Ritva (Eruvin 13b) says that Moshe was taught all the possible outcomes using this system, and therefore they are all considered “the words of the Living G-d.”]

    Moshe didn’t have to be taught how electricity works in order to teach him whether it qualifies as something forbidden on Shabbos or not, and if so, how. Once the ground rules were taught to him and put into the halachic system, after electricity was invented they can be used to determine, based on what was taught to Moshe at Sinai, what its status is.

    Included in what Vayikra Rabbah (and Koheles Rabbah and the Yerushalmi) say was taught to Moshe at Sinai was “Scripture.” This is expanded elsewhere to mean not just Chumash, but the Prophets and Writings as well (Berachos 5a), including Megilas Esther (Megila 19b). How could all of Tanach have been taught to Moshe at Sinai if the events hadn’t occurred yet? Did Moshe know that Korach was going to rebel well before he did? How could he send the spies to scout out the Land if he knew what the tragic outcome would be? Did G-d tell Moshe about the nation sinning with the “golden calf” (Shemos 32:7-8) by teaching him Parashas Ki Sisa? Was Moshe taught about the Levi’im assisting the Kohanim in the Mishkan/Temple even before the circumstances that necessitated them replacing the first-born had occurred?

    In Berachos, Rashi doesn’t explain the word “Scripture” to mean the actual text, but that “it’s a mitzvah to read the Torah.” The Maharsha expands on this, adding the guidelines for reading the Torah (i.e. not by heart, with its vowels and cantillation), and says that the Prophets and Writings are a separate category because their laws aren’t the same as for Chumash. I have previously discussed what the Talmud meant when it said that Moshe was taught Megilas Esther at Sinai (www.aishdas.org/ta/5765/tzav.pdf, pg. 4), with the “bottom line” being that it was not the actual text that was taught to Moshe, but the authorization to include a future text about Amalek in the canon of Writings. In doing research for this essay, Baruch Hashem I found that the Maharatz Chiyos (in Megila) says this as well. This doesn’t mean that no part of the biblical text was given to Moshe at Sinai. As I discussed last week, Rashi (Shemos 24:7) says that all of Sefer Beraishis and most of Sefer Shemos was given at Sinai (before the public revelation), and I suggested that the Ramban might agree (albeit after the public revelation). We can add Terumah/Tetzaveh (and part of Ki Sisa) to that text, since the Mishkan was commanded at Sinai (during the first 40 days on Mt. Sinai according to the Ramban and during the third set of 40 days according to Rashi). All, or at least parts, of Parashas Behar was taught at Sinai, so it’s possible that this text was given to Moshe at Sinai as well. Since the Chizkuni says that the “tochacha” was the “Sefer haB’ris” described by Matan Torah, he would add Parashas Bechukosai (or at least a good portion of it) as being a text given at Sinai. (Whatever wasn’t given in text form at Sinai was given to Moshe in the Mishkan, either along the way, or all at once in Arvos Moav, when the complete Torah text was given to the nation.)

    What about Agada, the non-legal parts of the Talmud and Midrash? Much has been written about the nature of Agada, and space is too limited (and time too short) to give it a full treatment (IY”H one day I hope to). For the purposes of our discussion, suffice it to say that the format of Agada, whether it be teaching spiritual messages through story-telling, or reconstructing history using the same system used to either reconstruct or construct law (after all, the law becomes what the Sanhedrin decides, but they can’t decide how old Rivka was when she married Yitzchok), just as Moshe was taught the system of determining laws, he was given the system (and permission) to expound verses that have no (direct) impact on what we should do.

    Based on this, we can easily explain how Moshe did not know the laws Rabbi Akiva was teaching, let alone how they were derived from the “crowns” of the letters, and why he felt better after hearing Rabbi Akiva say that it was based on what was taught to Moshe at Sinai. These were laws that fell into the Rambam’s third category, so had not been taught to Moshe, and Moshe became unsettled when he wasn’t sure that Rabbi Akiva was using the system given at Sinai to figure these laws out. Once Rabbi Akiva explained that his method of learning them from the verses (and letters) was consistent with what was taught to Moshe at Sinai, he felt better.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Rabbi Dov Kramer on the Parsha

Taking a Closer Look (Rabbi Dov Kramer)
 
            “This is the amount [of people] counted by Moshe and Aharon and the twelve leaders of Israel.” “And the total amount of the Children of Israel, by tribe, was of the men who were twenty years and older, all eligible to go to war for Israel.” “And the total amount was 603,550.” These three consecutive verses (Bamidbar 1:44-46) could have been combined into a single verse (“This is the total number of men twenty and older, counted by Moshe, Aharon and the Tribal leaders, by tribe: 603,550”), or, at the very least, into two verses. Based on the Ramban (1:45), the Kesav Sofer explains why the expression of being counted (“pekudim”) is stated three times in these three verses.
 
            The Ramban provides three different reasons for this census: #1) Since it was done “by name” (1:2), it gave everyone the opportunity to meet Moshe and Aharon face to face and grow from their personal meeting with these great and holy leaders, while allowing Moshe and Aharon to meet them one at a time and beseech G-d to help them based on their personal needs. The Kesav Sofer says that this is implied by the verse telling us that “they were counted by Moshe and Aharon (1:44). #2) Just as every king has to know how many soldiers he has before going to war, since G-d operates via natural means and the nation was preparing to conquer the Promised Land (had they not sinned with the spies), those eligible for the army were counted, i.e. “all who go out to battle” (1:45). #3) By taking this census and demonstrating how large the nation had become, they would become more fully aware of G-d’s kindness to them, for they had been just “70 souls” when they went down to Egypt and now they were “as numerous as the stars of the heavens” (Devarim 10:22). This aspect correlates to the third verse, which gives the actual number of men at least twenty years old. By separating them into three verses, each with its own introduction regarding the “counting,” all three of these reasons for the census are highlighted.
 
            The Ramban, when giving the third reason (in the Kesav Sofer’s order; it is the second reason given by the Ramban), puts it in a question form. “I don’t know why [G-d] commanded that they know the actual number [of people counted]; perhaps it was to inform them of His kindness towards them, for their ancestors descended to Egypt with 70 souls, and now they are like the sands of the sea, so many and so many twenty years old and above.” It wasn’t (just) for us to recognize how large the nation had become in a little over 200 years, but for them to become aware of it (consistent with the other two reasons being applicable to that generation) . How did they know how few there had been two centuries earlier? Was there only an oral tradition regarding the nation’s beginnings? Would having this tradition be enough to get them to contrast it with the current reality and bring about mass appreciation of G-d’s kindness to them? Furthermore, why does the Ramban almost quote the verse in Devarim, but switch the metaphor from “stars in the heavens” to “[grains of] sand by the sea?”
 
            When the nation accepted the Torah from G-d, there was a contract agreed to, written down by Moshe, and read to the nation. There are numerous approaches as to precisely what was in this contract (see www.RabbiDMK.posterous.com/Parashas-Mishpatim-5770). Rashi (Shemos 22:7) says it was the text of the Torah from the beginning (Beraishis) until the giving of the Torah (the point in the narrative that was, at that point, the “present”) as well as the commandments they had been given at Marah (shortly before getting to Mt. Sinai; according to many, these commandments make up the bulk of Parashas Mishpatim). Even if the Ramban disagrees with Rashi regarding the contents of this “contract” (very possible, even likely, as the Ramban is of the opinion that this contract was agreed to after the “Ten Commandments,” whereas Rashi says the contract was agreed to beforehand), it would seem that he agrees that this part of the text of the Torah was given to the nation at Sinai (the rest of the document was given to the nation at Arvos Moav, shortly before Moshe’s death; see Devarim 31:9).
 
            Although G-d’s kindness to the nation regarding its growth from “70 souls” to over 600,000 warrior-age men (plus women and children) is summed up nicely in the verse in Devarim (almost) quoted by the Ramban, it can be suggested that the Ramban purposely didn’t quote it exactly because it was part of the Torah that the nation did not receive yet. Instead, he used another metaphor, one that was contained in the part of the Torah they had already been given (Beraishis 22:17 and 32:12); even if the metaphor used in Devarim is employed there as well. [That the family consisted of “70 souls” when it joined Yosef in Egypt is mentioned twice in the part of the Torah given to the nation at Matan Torah; Beraishis 46:27 and Shemos 1:5.)
 
If the nation already had this part of the document to study (besides learning about the mitzvos they now had to keep, including Seder Nezikin), it would be common knowledge, constantly reinforced via textual study, that there were only 70 members of the family when they went down to Egypt. Therefore, after having studied this text for close to eleven months (from the beginning of Sivan, 2448 until the beginning of Iyar 2449), when the census revealed that there were now over 600,000 males above the age of twenty, it made quite an impression.

Israel 1947 Video

http://bit.ly/atmfSv

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Great thoughts from Rabbi Dov Kramer

Taking a Closer Look (Rabbi Dov Kramer)

    “And if you’ll say, ‘what will we eat in the seventh year, for we have not seeded nor have we gathered our produce.’ And I (G-d) will command My blessing for you in the sixth year, and it will make [enough] produce [to last] three years” (Vayikra 25:20-21). This promise was made in 2448 (before G-d moved the venue of His communication with Moshe from Mt. Sinai to the Mishkan). This year (5770), a vineyard (Hararei Kedem) won two gold medals and a silver medal at a wine competition; the prize-winning wines were made from grapes grown in the sixth year of the past Shemita cycle, a year (5767) in which the owner (Ariel Ben-Sheetrit) says his vineyard produced three times the usual quantity of grapes (www.israelnationalnews.com/News/News.aspx/137172). At first glance, this sounds pretty amazing. Having worked in the media for more than two decades, I have a fair amount of skepticism about the accuracy of details in news stories (and I’m not in a position to verify these for myself). Nevertheless, working with the details provided in this story, a few thoughts came to mind.

    First of all, the general consensus is that when there is no “Yovel” (Jubilee year) the prohibition against working the land during the seventh year is not a biblical prohibition, but a rabbinic one (see Rambam, Hilchos Shemita v’Yovel 9:2). Does the biblical promise of triple the amount of produce apply even when the obligation to observe Shemita is not a biblical obligation? The Sema (Sefer Meiras Aynaim, the commentary of Rabbi Yehoshua Falk, a student of the Ramuh, on the Choshen Mishpat section of the Shulchan Aruch, 67:2) says that the blessing only applies when the obligation to keep Shemita is biblical, while the Chazon Ish (Shevi’is 18:4) disagrees. (My thanks to Rabbi Micha Berger for pointing me towards these sources). It would be tempting to suggest that since the Chazon Ish lived (for the final decades of his life) in the Land of Israel, the “reality” of whether or not the blessing would be fulfilled was affected by his being the premiere halachic authority in Israel (whereas Rabbi Falk lived in the Ukraine, 300 years earlier), but I am not that bold. The Chazon Ish himself wrote that the blessing is not arbitrary; it either applies to all of the land or to none of it (he describes the blessing as a promise that is only fulfilled if we are worthy of its fulfillment). Interestingly, whether or not the blessing applies nowadays was apparently part of the discussion when determining if “heter mechira” was a viable option. Although the Chazon Ish wrote that we must do all we can through natural means (“hishtadlus”) to ensure that there is enough food to eat during Shemita, and then, after we do all we can, the blessing can occur, he was opposed to the “heter mechira.”

    Another factor to keep in mind is what the Torah means by the three-year blessing. If we can’t work the land during the seventh year, there is only one “lost” year of crops, so all the sixth year would need to produce to compensate for the (lost) seventh year is double its normal output, not triple. Rashi (25:21) says that the “three years” do not mean three full years, but parts of three calendar years, i.e. the second half of the sixth year, the entire seventh year, and the first half of the eighth year. The Sifra (Behar 4:6) understands the blessing to have a dual meaning (see Raavad). When it is only the seventh year that needs to be compensated for, the “three years” refers to the parts of the three years that the output of the sixth year must be used for; the actual output is only double its norm. However, since the 50th year (“Yovel”) has the same prohibitions against working the land as the seventh/forty-ninth year, there are two years worth of crops that must be compensated for. In those instances, the sixth/forty-eighth year will produce triple its normal output, enough to cover three full calendar years (corresponding to the “seventh, eighth and ninth” years of the seven year cycle). Being that 5769 was not “Yovel,” and it was only in 5768 that Ben-Sheetrit did not work his vineyard, it is interesting that its output in 5767 was triple its normal output, not double.

    On the other hand, had his vineyard produced “only” twice its normal output, would anyone have taken notice? Would Ben-Sheetrit have mentioned it in his acceptance speech, expounding upon Rashi’s commentary to explain how producing double was a fulfillment of the biblical promise? There is much tension in Israel between those that insist that no work be done on the land during Shemita and those that rely on the “heter mechira.” Ben Sheetrit acknowledged that he was under a lot of pressure to not keep Shemita, but decided to keep it anyway. If G-d wanted us to stop and take notice that someone who resisted such pressure was rewarded (there are other unique aspects to his vineyard too), tripling his output was likely much more effective than “just” doubling it.

“[G-d] is standing behind our wall, observing from the windows, glancing through the lattices” (Shir HaShirim 2:9). Even in times of “hester panim,” when G-d’s face is hidden, His involvement with the world and His creations is evident. Even if the biblical blessing only applies when the laws of Shemita are biblically mandated, or apply equally to all of the land (or none of it), blessing Hararei Kedem with a triple output was an effective way of catching our attention.