Shabbat Shalom Friends,
This week we begin the fourth book of the Torah, Sefer Bemidbar (Numbers), which begins when the Israelites are standing "in front of the mountain" (Exodus 19:2). In other words, when we begin this book, the Israelites are still standing at the sight of their revelation from God, and they are about to embark on a journey that will take them longer than they ever anticipated, and we will begin the final book of the Torah with them standing on the other side of the Jordan River, ready to enter the Promised Land.
One of the favorite commentaries on the significance of Mount Sinai as the mountain which God chose as the site of the revelation of the Torah comes from Pesikta Rabbati, which tells the following story:
"A man's pride will humiliate him, but a humble man will obtain honor (Prov.29:23)." A man's pride will humiliate him - as in Mount Tabor and Mount Carmel, that came from the ends of the earth and boasted, saying: We are tall, and the Holy One, blessed be He, will give the Torah on us. A humble man will obtain honor - that is Mount Sinai, humiliating itself and saying: I am low. Hence the Holy One, blessed be He, raised it up by honoring it, giving the Torah on that mountain. So Sinai had the privilege of the Holy One, blessed be He, descending on it and standing there, as it is written, "The Lord came down upon Mount Sinai..."(Pesikta Rabbati, ch. 7, s.v. va-yehi ha-makriv).
In this text, see our rabbis assert that in the revelation at Sinai, a moment endowed with countless meanings, even the choice of the mountain itself was significant. At the same time, it tells us something important about the nature of Sefer Bemidbar, as well.
Up until now, the Israelites are an isolated people, confined to a particular region in Egypt, and entering the desert and receiving a revelation alone in the midst of the wilderness. However, as they embark on the journey that will ultimately lead them to the Promised Land, they have the responsibility of taking God's promise with them, and using it wisely. Therefore, according to this Midrash, the Israelites must demonstrate the same humility that Mount Sinai itself in being chosen by God for this moment of revelation.
The challenge of leading a life of faith is not only the rules and regulations, but the way in which one carries their message. If we do it with a sense of arrogance and otherness, we may believe that we are following the letter of the law, but rather we are perverting it. The challenge for us not only embody God's message through our deeds, but through our attitude. May it happen soon, and speedily, in our days.
Shabbat Shalom
Josh
1. Parents: How do you balance standing up for what you believe in, without seeming holier-than-thou?
2. Children: What is the definition of the word arrogant? Can you think of a time when someone know acted that way? How did it make you feel?
3. Seekers: If this midrash defines spiritual arrogance for us, how would you define spiritual humility?
Friday, May 14, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Torah Bites for Your Table: Parshat Behar-Behukotai
Hi Friends
I hope that everyone is having a wonderful end to their week. This week marks the final parasha in the Book of Leviticus, Behar-Behukotai. One of the most famous concepts to emerge from this parasha is the Sabbatical Year, or Shemittah, where a person will leave their field fallow once every seven years. The commandment states the following:
"And the Lord said to Moses on Mount Sinai. “Speak to the Israelites: When you enter the land which I give you, the land shall keep a Sabbath to the Lord. Six years you shall sow your field, and six years you shall prune your vineyard, and gather in its fruits: but in the seventh year there shall be a Sabbath of solemn rest for the land, a Sabbath for the Lord; you shall not sow your field prune your vineyard" (Leviticus 25:1-4).
Historically, we might argue that this commandment was an early form of crop rotation, making sure that fields were not over-harvested to the point where they would no longer grow anything. However, in his analysis of this mitzvah, Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, the founder of Reconstrucionist Judaism, writes the following about the timeless nature of this mitzvah:
"As a result of the mechanization and over-industrialization of present day life, the human being has come to stand in greater need of the Sabbath than before…The function of the Sabbath is to prohibit man from engaging in work which in any way alters the environment, so that he should not delude himself into the belief that he is complete master of his destiny."
In other words, the timeless purpose is that this mitzvah forces to recognize that the natural goodness of the earth belongs to God, not us. When we treat the earth with callous disregard for the delicate balance of God's creation, we not only demean the earth, we demean God, as well.
In our present-day, we need a Sabbath for the earth, more than ever before. The practice of Shemittah must resonate deeply with each of us, as we think about how to meet the challenge of serving as proper stewards for this planet. May it happen soon, and speedily, in our days.
Shabbat Shalom
Josh
1. Parents: To what extent do you think you are helping your family create a sustainable home? What are areas of life where you could be conscious of what you use and consume?
2. Children: Why do you think God wants the earth to have a rest from being harvested? What is the value of not using up our resources?
3: Seekers: What would a world look like where we maintained proper intervals of rest for the earth? What would this say about spiritual compass if were to allow that to happen?
I hope that everyone is having a wonderful end to their week. This week marks the final parasha in the Book of Leviticus, Behar-Behukotai. One of the most famous concepts to emerge from this parasha is the Sabbatical Year, or Shemittah, where a person will leave their field fallow once every seven years. The commandment states the following:
"And the Lord said to Moses on Mount Sinai. “Speak to the Israelites: When you enter the land which I give you, the land shall keep a Sabbath to the Lord. Six years you shall sow your field, and six years you shall prune your vineyard, and gather in its fruits: but in the seventh year there shall be a Sabbath of solemn rest for the land, a Sabbath for the Lord; you shall not sow your field prune your vineyard" (Leviticus 25:1-4).
Historically, we might argue that this commandment was an early form of crop rotation, making sure that fields were not over-harvested to the point where they would no longer grow anything. However, in his analysis of this mitzvah, Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, the founder of Reconstrucionist Judaism, writes the following about the timeless nature of this mitzvah:
"As a result of the mechanization and over-industrialization of present day life, the human being has come to stand in greater need of the Sabbath than before…The function of the Sabbath is to prohibit man from engaging in work which in any way alters the environment, so that he should not delude himself into the belief that he is complete master of his destiny."
In other words, the timeless purpose is that this mitzvah forces to recognize that the natural goodness of the earth belongs to God, not us. When we treat the earth with callous disregard for the delicate balance of God's creation, we not only demean the earth, we demean God, as well.
In our present-day, we need a Sabbath for the earth, more than ever before. The practice of Shemittah must resonate deeply with each of us, as we think about how to meet the challenge of serving as proper stewards for this planet. May it happen soon, and speedily, in our days.
Shabbat Shalom
Josh
1. Parents: To what extent do you think you are helping your family create a sustainable home? What are areas of life where you could be conscious of what you use and consume?
2. Children: Why do you think God wants the earth to have a rest from being harvested? What is the value of not using up our resources?
3: Seekers: What would a world look like where we maintained proper intervals of rest for the earth? What would this say about spiritual compass if were to allow that to happen?
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Torah Bites for Your Table: Parshat Emor
Shavua Tov Friends
My apologies for the late post. Somehow the Dvar Torah got left in my draft folder and did not make it online. This is a copy of an essay I wrote about this week's Torah portion for the weekly newsletter at the Jewish Theological Seminary...
I am oftentimes troubled when we talk about social justice with the assumption that acts of justice only exist in the temporal realm, yet do not enter into the spiritual realm. However, in this week’s parasha of Emor, we encounter a justice-oriented mitzvah that our rabbis see as bound up in the spiritual fabric of our lives, and develop a connect for how acts of justice are ones which the Talmud says are “where heaven and earth touch” (BT Bava Batra 74a).
In chapter 23 of Leviticus, the mitzvah of pe’ah, leaving the corners of one’s filed untouched to be given to the poor, is found amidst a series of commandments about the festivals between Passover and what we now know as Rosh HaShanah. Regarding the mitzvah, the text states the following:
“And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not altogether remove the corners of your field…you shall leave them to the poor and to the stranger” (Leviticus 23:22).
In one of her gilyonot on the parasha, Nehama Leibowitz asks why the above verse occurs in the context of the mitzvot pertaining to festivals, a seeming dichotomy between commandments between humanity and God and commandments between humanity and one another (New Studies in Vayikra, 444). On this question, three perspectives emerge that each attempt to teach us something essential about the way in which acts of justice are connection to a larger spiritual mission for the Jewish people.
First, in a commentary that was most likely based on his sermons to the elite of the Polish Jewry, the Keli Yakar asserts that even though one needs to provide some of their harvest for the counting of the omer, one must still observe the mitzvah of pe’ah during that time period. When explaining his rationale, the Keli Yakar writes the following:
“The connection of this verse with the omer is expressed in the homiletical comment that God surrounded Israel with mitzvot (precepts) in all their activities…We might have supposed that the fulfillment of the omer precept exempts us from other precepts, hence the Torah states: “You shall not altogether remove…You shall leave them to the poor and to the stranger,” i.e., this mitzvah does not absolve us from leket, shikhehah, (forgotten sheaves) and pe’ah” (Keili Yakar on Leviticus 23:22).
In explaining the rationale of this commentary, Leibowitz writes that this commentary “reflects the important fact that the ritual commandments (e..g. the occasional sacrificial requirements) are easier to fulfill than those affecting one’s fellow man” (New Studies in Vayikra, 446-447). In other words, the mitzvot that require us to act justly, to give up something of our ourselves, can be far more difficult than a ritually-orientated mitzvah, and thus the Torah wants to remind us that not only are acts of justice equally obligatory, the performance of them may even reflect a higher degree of effort and intention.
Second, the Sefer Ha-Hinukh explains the rationale for the mitzvot of pe’ah and leket by asserting that each mitzvah is aimed at attaining a type of spiritual cleansing of the Jewish people. The text states:
“God wished for His chosen people to be virtuous and generous. As I have stated before, good deeds influence the soul and render it fit for God’s blessings. Leaving part of the produce of one’s land to the needy no doubt affords its owner satisfaction and bestows bliss upon his soul, God having provided him with plenty, and gratified his spirit. But those who take everything home, and disregard the needy who saw the rising crops and hungered for it, thus reveal their grudging heart…” (Sefer Ha-Hinukh, Mitzvat Asse 213).
In this text, the performance of the mitzvah of pe’ah is not simply a matter of fulfilling a particular obligation, but it is an act in a process of spiritual cleansing through an act of justice. In thinking about the mitzvah’s original context in this week’s parasha, the mitzvah of pe’ah is meant to provide a spiritual framework for our Jewish year in the same manner as our Jewish festivals.
Finally, and perhaps most interestingly, Rashi brings us a fascinating Midrash about what this mitzvah intends to teach. He writes,
“R. Avdimi b. R. Yossef said: Why is this precept placed among the Festivals, with Passover and Shavuot on this side and Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur on the other? To teach us that he who leaves leket, shikhehah and pe’ah to the poor according to the law, is considered as though he built up the Beit Ha-Mikdash and offered up sacrifices in it” (Rashi on Leviticus 23:22).
In commenting on Rashi’s teaching, the Be’er Yitzhak writes that, “The Torah put the obligation of gifts to the poor among sacrifice precepts in order to underline that these offerings do not present gifts to God…the laws of gifts to the poor appear amidst the Festival offerings, reminding us that these offerings are not presents. Heaven is the source of all riches…” (Be’er Yitzchak on Leviticus 23:22). The final perspective on our original mitzvah reminds us that mitzvot concerning societal justice exist not simply for the purpose of giving something to those who have less than us, but to recognize that all our possessions are, in reality, woven into the spiritual fabric of God’s creation. As such, we perform this mitzvah primarily because everything on this earth belongs to God, and a world of justice is one in which each of has the humility to give some of God’s possession to those who lack it.
In the contemporary dialogue in the Jewish community that increasingly places emphasis on issues of social justice, it is easy to rationalize these mitzvot in the context of our communal, philosophical, ethical or universalistic concerns. While I would not doubt any one of these individual rationales, it is essential that any community of Torah remember that these mitzvot are not simply bound up in extra-legal concerns, but rather are woven into the very fabric of God’s spiritual mission for the Jewish people. In short, justice is about who we are, and what our halakhah is meant to represent. May it happen soon, and speedily, in our days. Shabbat Shalom.
My apologies for the late post. Somehow the Dvar Torah got left in my draft folder and did not make it online. This is a copy of an essay I wrote about this week's Torah portion for the weekly newsletter at the Jewish Theological Seminary...
I am oftentimes troubled when we talk about social justice with the assumption that acts of justice only exist in the temporal realm, yet do not enter into the spiritual realm. However, in this week’s parasha of Emor, we encounter a justice-oriented mitzvah that our rabbis see as bound up in the spiritual fabric of our lives, and develop a connect for how acts of justice are ones which the Talmud says are “where heaven and earth touch” (BT Bava Batra 74a).
In chapter 23 of Leviticus, the mitzvah of pe’ah, leaving the corners of one’s filed untouched to be given to the poor, is found amidst a series of commandments about the festivals between Passover and what we now know as Rosh HaShanah. Regarding the mitzvah, the text states the following:
“And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not altogether remove the corners of your field…you shall leave them to the poor and to the stranger” (Leviticus 23:22).
In one of her gilyonot on the parasha, Nehama Leibowitz asks why the above verse occurs in the context of the mitzvot pertaining to festivals, a seeming dichotomy between commandments between humanity and God and commandments between humanity and one another (New Studies in Vayikra, 444). On this question, three perspectives emerge that each attempt to teach us something essential about the way in which acts of justice are connection to a larger spiritual mission for the Jewish people.
First, in a commentary that was most likely based on his sermons to the elite of the Polish Jewry, the Keli Yakar asserts that even though one needs to provide some of their harvest for the counting of the omer, one must still observe the mitzvah of pe’ah during that time period. When explaining his rationale, the Keli Yakar writes the following:
“The connection of this verse with the omer is expressed in the homiletical comment that God surrounded Israel with mitzvot (precepts) in all their activities…We might have supposed that the fulfillment of the omer precept exempts us from other precepts, hence the Torah states: “You shall not altogether remove…You shall leave them to the poor and to the stranger,” i.e., this mitzvah does not absolve us from leket, shikhehah, (forgotten sheaves) and pe’ah” (Keili Yakar on Leviticus 23:22).
In explaining the rationale of this commentary, Leibowitz writes that this commentary “reflects the important fact that the ritual commandments (e..g. the occasional sacrificial requirements) are easier to fulfill than those affecting one’s fellow man” (New Studies in Vayikra, 446-447). In other words, the mitzvot that require us to act justly, to give up something of our ourselves, can be far more difficult than a ritually-orientated mitzvah, and thus the Torah wants to remind us that not only are acts of justice equally obligatory, the performance of them may even reflect a higher degree of effort and intention.
Second, the Sefer Ha-Hinukh explains the rationale for the mitzvot of pe’ah and leket by asserting that each mitzvah is aimed at attaining a type of spiritual cleansing of the Jewish people. The text states:
“God wished for His chosen people to be virtuous and generous. As I have stated before, good deeds influence the soul and render it fit for God’s blessings. Leaving part of the produce of one’s land to the needy no doubt affords its owner satisfaction and bestows bliss upon his soul, God having provided him with plenty, and gratified his spirit. But those who take everything home, and disregard the needy who saw the rising crops and hungered for it, thus reveal their grudging heart…” (Sefer Ha-Hinukh, Mitzvat Asse 213).
In this text, the performance of the mitzvah of pe’ah is not simply a matter of fulfilling a particular obligation, but it is an act in a process of spiritual cleansing through an act of justice. In thinking about the mitzvah’s original context in this week’s parasha, the mitzvah of pe’ah is meant to provide a spiritual framework for our Jewish year in the same manner as our Jewish festivals.
Finally, and perhaps most interestingly, Rashi brings us a fascinating Midrash about what this mitzvah intends to teach. He writes,
“R. Avdimi b. R. Yossef said: Why is this precept placed among the Festivals, with Passover and Shavuot on this side and Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur on the other? To teach us that he who leaves leket, shikhehah and pe’ah to the poor according to the law, is considered as though he built up the Beit Ha-Mikdash and offered up sacrifices in it” (Rashi on Leviticus 23:22).
In commenting on Rashi’s teaching, the Be’er Yitzhak writes that, “The Torah put the obligation of gifts to the poor among sacrifice precepts in order to underline that these offerings do not present gifts to God…the laws of gifts to the poor appear amidst the Festival offerings, reminding us that these offerings are not presents. Heaven is the source of all riches…” (Be’er Yitzchak on Leviticus 23:22). The final perspective on our original mitzvah reminds us that mitzvot concerning societal justice exist not simply for the purpose of giving something to those who have less than us, but to recognize that all our possessions are, in reality, woven into the spiritual fabric of God’s creation. As such, we perform this mitzvah primarily because everything on this earth belongs to God, and a world of justice is one in which each of has the humility to give some of God’s possession to those who lack it.
In the contemporary dialogue in the Jewish community that increasingly places emphasis on issues of social justice, it is easy to rationalize these mitzvot in the context of our communal, philosophical, ethical or universalistic concerns. While I would not doubt any one of these individual rationales, it is essential that any community of Torah remember that these mitzvot are not simply bound up in extra-legal concerns, but rather are woven into the very fabric of God’s spiritual mission for the Jewish people. In short, justice is about who we are, and what our halakhah is meant to represent. May it happen soon, and speedily, in our days. Shabbat Shalom.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Torah Bites for Your Table: Parshat Aharei Mot/Kedoshim
Shabbat Shalom Friends
In this week's parasha, we encounter one of the most famous statements of the Torah, "You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy" (Levitcus 19:3). Most people consider this verse a commandment, yet none of the rabbis who attempt to name all 613 commandments of the Torah (and yes, some rabbis actually tried to list all 613!) identify this verse as an actual commandment.
So the question becomes, what does it mean for God to say that "You shall be holy." Maimonides, one of our most famous Jewish legalists and philosophers, wrote in his Sefer Ha-Mitzvot (Book of Commandments) that,
"Now in the Torah there are certain imperatives and words of admonition which are not said in regard of any specific thing, rather they subsume all of the commandments in their entirety. It is as if to say, “Do all that I have commanded you, and take care to avoid all that I have warned you against.”
In other words, Maimonides assert that the statement "You shall be holy" is not a command, but a principle. Everyone action which we engage as Jews must be for the purpose of advancing holiness in this world. This applies not only what rituals we perform, but how we treat one another, and how we live out God's message for humanity.
As we enter this Shabbat, may live out the principle that ultimately lies every facet of our Jewish tradition, so that we shall be holy. Shabbat Shalom!
Shabbat Shalom,
Josh
In this week's parasha, we encounter one of the most famous statements of the Torah, "You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy" (Levitcus 19:3). Most people consider this verse a commandment, yet none of the rabbis who attempt to name all 613 commandments of the Torah (and yes, some rabbis actually tried to list all 613!) identify this verse as an actual commandment.
So the question becomes, what does it mean for God to say that "You shall be holy." Maimonides, one of our most famous Jewish legalists and philosophers, wrote in his Sefer Ha-Mitzvot (Book of Commandments) that,
"Now in the Torah there are certain imperatives and words of admonition which are not said in regard of any specific thing, rather they subsume all of the commandments in their entirety. It is as if to say, “Do all that I have commanded you, and take care to avoid all that I have warned you against.”
In other words, Maimonides assert that the statement "You shall be holy" is not a command, but a principle. Everyone action which we engage as Jews must be for the purpose of advancing holiness in this world. This applies not only what rituals we perform, but how we treat one another, and how we live out God's message for humanity.
As we enter this Shabbat, may live out the principle that ultimately lies every facet of our Jewish tradition, so that we shall be holy. Shabbat Shalom!
Shabbat Shalom,
Josh
- Parents: How do you teach your children to bring holiness into their lives? How can you make your family life holy?
- Children: What is an example of something that is holy? What makes it holy?
- Seekers: How do you bring holiness in the world? To what extent to think that your Judaism helps or hinders your pursuit of holiness?
Friday, April 16, 2010
Torah Bites for Your Table: Parshat Tazria-Metzora
Shalom Friends
I hope that everyone is having a wonderful week. This week's double-parasha of Tazria-Metzora provides one of the well-known commandments of Jewish tradition, namely the covenant of circumcision. The Torah tells us that "On the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised," establishing the biblical roots of circumcision as a Jewish obligation (Leviticus 13:2).
The challenge of finding continued relevance in this commandment is significant, yet it is important to think about the mitzvah's purpose as ideally conceived by the Torah and the rabbis. On this question, the The Sefer Ha-Hinukh (The Book of Education) writes the following:
"The Lord, blessed be He, wished that the people whom He had chosen to be called by His name have a fixed sign on their bodies, setting them apart from the other peoples by the form of their bodies, just as they are set apart by the form of their souls... and the difference was set in the reproductive organ since it is the cause of the existence of the species, aside from perfecting the form of the body... And the chosen people – the Lord, blessed be He, wished to perfect their attributes and desired that the act of perfecting be done by human beings. Therefore humans were not created perfect from birth, to hint to them that just as the perfection of the form of their bodies is dependent on them, so too the perfection of their souls is in their hands, in making their actions proper" (Sefer Ha-Hinukh, Parshat Lekh Lekha).
In this text, we are reminded that circumcision is intended to be a synthesis of holiness of body and holiness of soul. The mark that a Jewish boy receives is not simply meant to be a physical blemish, but a reminder about how we act with our bodies indicates the seriousness with which we take God's charge to be holy of body and soul. Of course, this is no easy task, but it is a task most certainly worth attempting to achieve. Shabbat Shalom!
-Josh
I hope that everyone is having a wonderful week. This week's double-parasha of Tazria-Metzora provides one of the well-known commandments of Jewish tradition, namely the covenant of circumcision. The Torah tells us that "On the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised," establishing the biblical roots of circumcision as a Jewish obligation (Leviticus 13:2).
The challenge of finding continued relevance in this commandment is significant, yet it is important to think about the mitzvah's purpose as ideally conceived by the Torah and the rabbis. On this question, the The Sefer Ha-Hinukh (The Book of Education) writes the following:
"The Lord, blessed be He, wished that the people whom He had chosen to be called by His name have a fixed sign on their bodies, setting them apart from the other peoples by the form of their bodies, just as they are set apart by the form of their souls... and the difference was set in the reproductive organ since it is the cause of the existence of the species, aside from perfecting the form of the body... And the chosen people – the Lord, blessed be He, wished to perfect their attributes and desired that the act of perfecting be done by human beings. Therefore humans were not created perfect from birth, to hint to them that just as the perfection of the form of their bodies is dependent on them, so too the perfection of their souls is in their hands, in making their actions proper" (Sefer Ha-Hinukh, Parshat Lekh Lekha).
In this text, we are reminded that circumcision is intended to be a synthesis of holiness of body and holiness of soul. The mark that a Jewish boy receives is not simply meant to be a physical blemish, but a reminder about how we act with our bodies indicates the seriousness with which we take God's charge to be holy of body and soul. Of course, this is no easy task, but it is a task most certainly worth attempting to achieve. Shabbat Shalom!
-Josh
- Parents: What do you think are the ways in which you can allow a holy soul to become a holy body? How does this relate to the way we eat, sleep, exercise and take care of ourselves?
- Children: What is holy about your body? How should you try and treat it?
- Seekers: What does it mean to be "holy of body"? What are some of the ways in which you are making this a reality?
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Class THIS SUNDAY: Jewish Justice- A World As It Is Versus A World As It Should Be
Come this Sunday at 10 am for the next class on Jewish Justice with Josh Rabin, "The Blue Line Rabbi." This week's class is entitled Seeing the Other: Needs and Wants in a World of Justice. The class will discuss some of the work of Emmanuel Levinas, a Jewish philosopher from the twenty-first century, who saw "The Other" as a category of person that should inform our personal ethics and our Jewish practice. We will connect the work of Levinas to Jewish texts and the challenges of social justice in the modern-day.
Everyone is welcome. If you are interested in attending, please RSVP to Josh at bluelinerabbi@gmail.com or visit him at http://bluelinerabbi.blogspot.com
Everyone is welcome. If you are interested in attending, please RSVP to Josh at bluelinerabbi@gmail.com or visit him at http://bluelinerabbi.blogspot.com
Friday, April 2, 2010
Torah Bites for Your Table: Parshat Shemini
Hi Friends
I hope that everyone is having an enjoyable festival of Pesah, and that everyone's Sedarim were meaningful and insightful. I will hopefully be sending Pesah Bites this Sunday, but today I will write about this week's parasha of Shemini, which also happens to be my Bar Mitzvah Parasha.
One of the things that I love about Parshat Shemini are the laws of kashrut, the traditional Jewish dietary system. While many of us are familiar with some of the basic permissions and prohibitions of this system, we oftentimes forget that the rabbis attempted to endow this system with some type of spiritual meaning in order that we might "chew by choice" (I had to throw a corny joke in there...my apologies).
My favorite example of this is the Torah's specific prohibition against eating the hasidah, which is identified as the stork. The name of the stork in Hebrew means "the kind one," and the Talmud comments that the stork is called "the kind one" in Hebrew because it always helps out its friends (BT Hullin 63a). However, if the stork is known as "the kind one," why does it happen to be a prohibited animal?
In commenting on this question, Rabbi Yizhak Meir Alter (the Hidushei Ha-Rim), who is considered one of the first Hasidic masters of the early modern period, comments that a stork is not considered kosher because it only helps out its friends, limiting their kindness to their fellow birds. Given this reality, the stork cannot be considered kosher, because it does not recognize the fundamental truth that goodness and kindness is meaningless if it is only limited to ourselves, but rather must be extended to the many circles of influence in our lives.
Whether or not we agree with Rabbi Alter's commentary (after all, it's hard to know if a rabbi could really understand a bird's helping patterns), this commentary teaches us something profound about why we ought to observe mitzvot, in the first place. It is far too easy to assume that we ought to observe mitzvot for advancing our own place, when, in reality, we have the obligation to observe mitzvot for advancing everyone's place. Our task is to see a life of mitzvot as one that brings goodness not only to ourselves, but to the entire world. May we each have the merit of creating that type of life in our families and communities for generations to come.
Shabbat Shalom,
Josh
I hope that everyone is having an enjoyable festival of Pesah, and that everyone's Sedarim were meaningful and insightful. I will hopefully be sending Pesah Bites this Sunday, but today I will write about this week's parasha of Shemini, which also happens to be my Bar Mitzvah Parasha.
One of the things that I love about Parshat Shemini are the laws of kashrut, the traditional Jewish dietary system. While many of us are familiar with some of the basic permissions and prohibitions of this system, we oftentimes forget that the rabbis attempted to endow this system with some type of spiritual meaning in order that we might "chew by choice" (I had to throw a corny joke in there...my apologies).
My favorite example of this is the Torah's specific prohibition against eating the hasidah, which is identified as the stork. The name of the stork in Hebrew means "the kind one," and the Talmud comments that the stork is called "the kind one" in Hebrew because it always helps out its friends (BT Hullin 63a). However, if the stork is known as "the kind one," why does it happen to be a prohibited animal?
In commenting on this question, Rabbi Yizhak Meir Alter (the Hidushei Ha-Rim), who is considered one of the first Hasidic masters of the early modern period, comments that a stork is not considered kosher because it only helps out its friends, limiting their kindness to their fellow birds. Given this reality, the stork cannot be considered kosher, because it does not recognize the fundamental truth that goodness and kindness is meaningless if it is only limited to ourselves, but rather must be extended to the many circles of influence in our lives.
Whether or not we agree with Rabbi Alter's commentary (after all, it's hard to know if a rabbi could really understand a bird's helping patterns), this commentary teaches us something profound about why we ought to observe mitzvot, in the first place. It is far too easy to assume that we ought to observe mitzvot for advancing our own place, when, in reality, we have the obligation to observe mitzvot for advancing everyone's place. Our task is to see a life of mitzvot as one that brings goodness not only to ourselves, but to the entire world. May we each have the merit of creating that type of life in our families and communities for generations to come.
Shabbat Shalom,
Josh
- Parents: What are you doing to help your children think about seeing outside themselves, and understanding the needs of other people?
- Children: What was a time when you did something for another person's sake, and not only for your own? How did you feel about doing it?
- Seekers: What do you think about Rabbi Alter's prohibition against eating the stork? Do you think his reason seems genuine, or that he is attempting to justify an obscure prohibition?
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