Tu b'Av and the Joy of National Cognitive Dissonance

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Artwork: [Title Unknown], by Maciej Kuciara

Tu b'Av and the Joy of National Cognitive Dissonance

Tomorrow is Tu b'Av. When I first heard about Tu b'Av (the 15th day of the month of Av), I thought it was a modern innovation - like the recent incarnation of Tu bi'Shvat as a day of environmental activism, or the secularized Yom ha'Shoah which is detached from its proper place in the framework of halacha. As it so happens, the celebration of Tu b'Av does have an authoritative source in none other than the Mishnah itself. The mishnah in Taanis 4:8 states:

Rabban Simeon hen Gamliel said: "There are no days more joyous in Israel than the 15th of Av and Yom ha’Kippurim, for on them the maidens of Jerusalem used to go out dressed in white garments — borrowed ones, in order not to cause shame to those who had them not of their own, and these clothes were also to be previously immersed – and thus they went out and danced in the vineyards, saying, ‘Young men, look and observe well whom you are about to choose [as a spouse]; regard not beauty [alone], but rather look to a virtuous family, [for it is stated:] “Grace is deceitful and beauty is futile, but a woman who fears Hashem – she should be praised” (Mishlei 31:3); and it is also said: “Give her the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates” (Mishlei 31:31).’ And thus is it said [in allusion to this custom], ‘Go out, maidens of Jerusalem, and look on King Solomon, and on the crown with which his mother has encircled [his head] on his wedding day, and on the day of the gladness of his heart’ (Shir ha’Shirim 3:11) – ‘his wedding day’ alludes to the giving of the Torah, and ‘the day of the gladness of his heart’ alludes to when the building of the Temple was completed. May it soon be rebuilt in our days. Amen!”

The Gemara (Talmud Bavli: Taanis 30b) asks what is so special about Tu b'Av:

It is reasonable [to make this statement] about Yom ha’Kippurim, which has forgiveness and pardon, and is the day on which the second tablets were given. But the 15th of Av – what is it?

The Gemara answers by listing six joyous events associated with Tu b'Av. Here is a summary:

1. the shvatim (twelve tribes) were permitted to intermarry with one another
2. the temporary ban against the tribe of Binyamin was lifted, thereby permitting Benjaminites to marry into the rest of Israel once again
3. the Dor ha'Midbar (Generation of the Wilderness) stopped dying on Tishah b'Av, indicating the end of the punishment for the Cheit ha'Meraglim (Sin of the Spies)
4. the sentries set up by Yeravam ben Navat blocking access to Jerusalem were removed
5. the massacred Jews of Beitar were permitted to be buried
6. the annual wood-chopping for the Mizbeach (Altar) was completed

Of these six reasons, the one that caught my attention this year was #4. The Gemara says:

Ulla said: This is the day on which Hoshea ben Elah abolished the sentries that were set up by Yeravam ben Navat on the roads [to Yerushalayim], so that [the citizens of the Northern Kingdom of] Israel couldn’t make their aliyah l'regel (festival pilgrimage); [Hoshe ben Elah] said [to the people]: "Go wherever you please." 

These sentries were set up by Yeravan ben Navat way back in 797 B.C.E. (according to the timeline on chabad.org), when Shlomo ha'Melech's unified kingdom was split and Yeravam became Melech Yisrael (king of the Northern Kingdom of Israel):

Yeravam built up Shechem in the Mountain of Ephraim and dwelled in it; then he left there and built up Penuel. Yeravam then thought, “Now the kingship may revert to the House of David. If this people will go up to bring offerings in the Temple of Hashem in Yerushalayim, the heart of this people will revert to their lord, to Rechavam, king of Yehudah, and they will kill me and return to Yeravam, king of Yehudah.” Then the king took counsel, and he made two golden calves; and he said to the people, “It is too far for you to go up to Yerushalayim. These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up from the land of Egypt!” He placed the one in Beis-El and the other one in Dan. This matter became a sin, and the people traveled all the way to Dan to worship before one of them. (I Melachim 12:25-30)

Although the pesukim do not explicitly mention the sentries set up by Yeravam to block access to Yerushalayim, these obstacles are alluded to in the pesukim about Hoshea ben Elah - the very last Melech Yisrael, who assumed power in 574 B.C.E. (according to chabad.org), over 200 years later. Unlike all of the other Malchei Yisrael, about whom it is said that they "did what was evil in the eyes of Hashem," the pesukim report about Hoshea ben Elah that "he did what was evil in the eyes of Hashem, but not like the kings of Israel who were before him" (II Melachim 17:2). The Gemara (Gittin 88a) explains this qualification:

Rav Kahana and Rav Asi said to Rav: “It is written of Hoshea ben Elah: ‘He did what was evil in the eyes of Hashem – but not like the Kings of Israel’ and it is written: ‘Shalmaneser, King of Assyria, went up against him; and Hoshea became his vassal and sent him a tribute’ (ibid. 17:3)”! [This would seem to imply a wrongdoing on his part!]

[Rav] replied to them: “Yeravam had stationed sentries on the roads so that Israel wouldn’t go up [to Yerushalayim to make pilgrimage] on the festivals, and Hoshea abolished [these sentries]. Nevertheless, Israel didn’t make pilgrimage on the festival. Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu [therefore] said: “[Corresponding to] those years during which Israel didn’t make pilgrimage, they should go into captivity.”

The reason why Ulla's explanation of Tu b'Av caught my attention is because it didn't lead to a good outcome! I'd understand if Hoshea removed the sentries and the citizens of the Northern Kingdom flocked to the Mikdash (Temple) in Yerushalayim once the sentries were removed - but as our Gemara says, that didn't happen! I'd also understand if Hoshea's decision as king was an entirely praiseworthy act - but according to Chazal, it wasn't! The Talmud Yerushalmi's (Taanis 4:6) version of the aforementioned Gemara in Gittin includes an explanation of Hoshea's misstep:

R’ Chiyya bar Ashi said in the name of Rav: “It was on that day that Hoshea ben Elah removed the sentries that Yeravam ben Navat set up on the roads.” Kahana asked Rav: “He did all this good, and yet it is written concerning him: ‘Against him came up Shalmaneser, king of Assyria; [and Hoshea became his vassal and paid him tribute]’?” 

[Rav] replied to him: “It was because he took the chain from around his own neck and put it around the neck of the community. He did not say, ‘Everyone go up [to Yerushalayim for the pilgrimage festival]!’ but rather ‘Whoever wants to go up may go up [for the pilgrimage].’”

In other words, removing the sentries was good, but it wasn't good enough. As king, he should have been more proactive in guiding his people on the proper path. Apparently, his proto-progressive "freedom of religion" policy was not enough in Hashem's eyes to spare Hoshea.

So if Hoshea's removal of Yeravam's stumbling block did not, in actuality, lead to a national teshuvah in the Northern Kingdom, why is this identified as a cause for celebration on Tu b'Av?

The simple answer is that the removal of ra (evil) is, in and of itself, a cause for celebration, even if it doesn't ultimately bear fruit. In this case, the removal of Yeravam's roadblocks was a joyous event, since it left Israel with no impediments to doing the mitzvah of aliyah l'regel.

I would like to suggest a modern day example of this type of opportunity-turned-tragedy: the recapturing and subsequent relinquishment of Har ha'Bayis (the Temple Mount) by Israel in the Six Day War of 1967. Mere hours after the victorious proclamation, "Har ha'Bayis is in our hands!" Moshe Dayan returned it to the control of the Muslim Wakf, and, in a Hoshea-esque justification, said: "We did not come to conquer the sacred sites of others or to restrict their religious rights, but rather to ensure the integrity of the city and to live in it with others in fraternity." Like the removal of Yeravam's sentries, the restoration of Har ha'Bayis to Jewish sovereignty was an occasion worthy of joyous celebration, even though the opportunity was squandered almost immediately thereafter.

I thought of a second possibility for why Hoshea's removal of Yeravam's sentries might be an occasion of joy, even though it didn't lead to any good. I will acknowledge at the outset that this explanation is a bit of a stretch. 

Perhaps the joyous occasion was not the opportunity for the nation to do the mitzvah of aliyah l'regel, but rather, the opportunity for the nation to do teshuvah by making a bechirah (free will) decision. 

My answer is based on the explanation in the Yerushalmi, that Hoshea "took the chain from around his own neck and put it around the neck of the community" by telling them, "Whoever wants to go may go!" instead of commanding them to go. The Gemara identifies this as a failing on Hoshea's part. This may be true, but at the same time, Hoshea's decision granted the people of Israel a unique opportunity for teshuvah. If he had commanded them to go to Yerushalayim, they might have done it simply because it was mandated by their king. But by giving them the choice, it forced each person to exercise his or her own bechirah by choosing whether or not to do the mitzvah. In the past, it would be easy to rationalize not making aliyah l'regel by placing the blame on Yeravam or on the regnant king, but thanks to Hoshea's "religious freedom" edict, the people could no longer blame anyone but themselves. If they didn't go to Yerushalayim, it was undeniably their choice.

This hearkens back to an earlier event in the history of Malchus Yisrael: Eliyahu ha'Navi's speech to Bnei Yisrael on Har ha'Carmel:

Achav [the evil king of Israel] sent among all the Children of Israel and he gathered the prophets [of Baal] to Mount Carmel. Eliyahu approached all the people and said, "How long will you dance between two opinions? If Hashem is the God, follow Him! And if Baal [is the god], go after him!" - but the people did not answer him at all.

By calling them out with such a direct and provocative challenge, Eliyahu was, in effect, forcing each Israelite to make a decision about what he or she believed. Had he not done this, Bnei Yisrael could have conveniently avoided confronting their cognitive dissonance. They could have gone along with the prophets of Baal when the latter were ascendant, and switched teams when Eliyahu’s side was winning – all without having to take a stand and make a decision. Eliyahu's statement forced each Jew to ask himself: "What do I believe?"

Similarly, Yeravam's sentries prevented Bnei Yisrael from making a real decision - and if Hoshea had commanded them to make aliyah l'regel, they still wouldn't have had to make a decision. But by "placing the chain on their neck," giving them the choice, he was providing them with a unique opportunity to do teshuvah gemurah (complete teshuvah) by confronting their own resistance to aliyah l'regel, and everything that aliyah l'regel entailed. This opportunity – the situation in which a nation is forced to confront its own cognitive dissonance – that is something to be celebrated, even if it didn't lead to teshuvah, and even if Hoshea wasn't motivated by good intentions.

Do I think that this is actually the reason why we celebrate on Tu b'Av? No. My second answer is far more speculative than the simpler explanation mentioned above. Nevertheless, even if this isn't the real reason that Chazal had in mind, I think it's still a valuable insight to think about on Tu b'Av. 

Parashas Mattos/Masei: Who is to Blame?

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Artwork: Memorial to Folly, by Sung Choi

Parashas Mattos/Masei: Who is to Blame?

This week we conclude our reading of Sefer Bamidbar. I taught Sefer Bamidbar for seven years, and there is one sentiment I encountered among my high school students every time: anger at Bnei Yisrael. Whenever we’d learn an episode of Bamidbar in which Bnei Yisrael sinned and were punished, my students would grow frustrated and exclaim: “How could Bnei Yisrael be so stupid?!” “They’re so childish and immature!” “Why do we have to suffer for their sins?” 

As tempting as it is to place the blame entirely on Bnei Yisrael for their sins, that is not the approach that Moshe Rabbeinu takes in our parashah, nor is it the approach that Yirmiyahu takes in our haftarah. 

Parashas Mattos begins with Hashem commanding Bnei Yisrael to wage war with the Midianites. The Jewish men lead the battle, killing the Midianite kings and male soldiers, and taking the women, children, livestock, and wealth as spoils. 

Moshe becomes enraged. [1] However, his anger is not directed at the soldiers who engaged in the looting, but at the commanding officers who were appointed over them. Rashi, [2] citing Sifre, [3] explains why: 

and Moshe became enraged at the appointed of the soldiers – [namely,] those who were appointed over the soldiers; [the pasuk says this] in order to teach you that every deterioration of the generation is contingent on the gedolim (leaders), since they have the ability to protest. 

The Rambam codifies this principle in two places in the Mishneh Torah. The first is in Hilchos Deos,[4] in his exposition of the mitzvah of hocheach tochiach (“you shall surely rebuke a member of your people”): 

One who sees his friend who sinning or following a path that is not good is commanded to return him to the good, and to inform him that he is sinning against himself with his bad decisions, as it is stated: "You shall surely rebuke [the member of] your people" (Vayikra 19:17) … and one who has the ability to rebuke but refrains from rebuking is included in the sin of those [sinners], so long as he had the ability to rebuke them. 

The second instance is in Hilchos Teshuvah, [5] in his list of sins which impede teshuvah: 

There are four sins which are so severe that if a person does one of them, Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu will not provide him with the ability to do teshuvah, due to the magnitude of the sin. They are:  

1. one who causes the masses to sin; included in this is one who prevents the masses from doing a mitzvah  

2. one who turns his friend from a good path to a bad path, such as a meisis (one who leads a person to worship avodah zarah) or a mediach (one who leads a city to worship avodah zarah)  

3. one who sees his son with a bad crowd and doesn’t protest: since his son is under his dominion, then he is like a person who causes him to sin; included in this is anyone who has the ability to protest against others – whether a multitude or a few individuals – and doesn’t protest, but leaves them with their stumbling block  

4. one who says, “I will sin and then I will do teshuvah”; included in this is one who says, “I will sin and Yom ha’Kippurim will atone.” 

This does not mean that such sins are entirely the fault of the leaders, and that the sinners themselves are free from blame. The foundational principle of Torah is that that every human being has free will, and is the cause of his or her own actions. At the same time, the Torah recognizes that leaders hold a great sway over the parameters of their followers’ free will. Thus, if a leader fails to use his position of influence to save or prevent his followers from sinning, then he is considered to be partially at fault, and shares in the culpability of the sinners. 

For example, every Nazi in Hitler’s Germany had free will, and could have chosen not to align himself with the forces of evil. Yet, it is clear that a Nazi soldier raised by a Nazi family, educated in a Nazi school, and surrounded by Nazi ideas, Nazi patriotism, and Nazi ascendancy – such an individual has far more impediments to exercising his free will for the good than his American counterpart among the Allies. There are many paths of choosing the good which are clear and unobstructed for the American, but blocked or obscured in darkness for the Nazi. However, if Hitler and the upper echelon of Nazi leaders radically changed their view of their “enemies” – just as Japan and its citizens changed their view of Americans after World War II – then it would be far easier for the individual Nazi to exercise his free will and choose good over evil. Freedom of choice is universal, but it is not equal in mankind, nor does it exist in a vacuum. It is a tenuous thing, subject to external disturbances – like a flickering candle on a blustery night, in need of protective hands to shield it and prevent it from being extinguished. 

Yirmiyahu follows Moshe’s approach in his rebuke of Bnei Yisrael, but is even more explicit in ascribing blame to the leaders of the nation. He begins with a general message to the nation: 

Hear the word of Hashem, O House of Jacob, and all families of the House of Israel: Thus said Hashem: "What wrong did your fathers find in Me that they distanced themselves from Me, and they went after nothingness and they became nothingness? And they did not say, ‘Where is Hashem Who brought us up from the Land of Egypt, Who led us in the Wilderness, in a land of desert and pit, in a land of waste and the shadow of death, in a land through which no man passed and no person settled there?’ I brought you to a fruitful land to eat its fruit and its goodness; but you came and you contaminated My land, and My inheritance you made into an abomination.” (Yirmiyahu 2:4-7) 

But then he turns his rebuke to the leaders, specifying how each group of leaders is culpable: 

“The Kohanim didn’t say, ‘Where is Hashem?’ and those who grasp the Torah (tofsei ha’Torah) didn’t know Me, and the shepherds rebelled against Me, and the [false] prophets prophesied by the Baal, and went after that which has no benefit. Therefore, I will continue to quarrel with you,” the word of Hashem, "and with your grandchildren I will quarrel." (ibid 2:8-9) 

The Radak [6] explains how each of these groups was at fault for the sins of the nation: 

the kohanim [didn’t say,] “Where is Hashem?” – we have explained this [as follows:] the Kohanim who are before Hashem (i.e. in the Beis ha’Mikdash) all day, bringing sacrifices before Him, should have said to the nation that worships Baal, “Where is Hashem, such that you worship someone other than Him?” 

those who grasp the Torah – these are the wise men who learn Torah; they “did not know Me” in that they didn’t learn Torah for its own sake, to fulfill what is written in it, but learned only with their mouths and a divided heart; this is what it means by “they did not know Me,” because good thought with good actions is [real] “knowledge [of God]” – not [mere] learning.

the shepherds – these are the kings who shepherd the nation, just like shepherds shepherd sheep.

and the prophets – these are the false prophets. 

If these religious and political leaders had stepped up to the plate, they could have halted the downward spiral of Bnei Yisrael, thereby preventing the destruction of the Beis ha’Mikdash (Holy Temple) and the galus (exile), or at least diminishing the severity of the catastrophe and suffering.[7] The people of the nation, themselves, are – as the navi said – like a flock of sheep. Each sheep has its own agency, but that agency is contingent on the decisions of the shepherd. If the shepherd leads his sheep to lush meadows, they will freely roam and graze; if he leads them within proximity of the wolves, they will have little choice but to flee for survival. 

I believe that this perspective on the sins of our ancestors has a bearing on the way we view the faults in our fellow Jews today. The Jewish world is split into so many different factions, religiously, politically, culturally, racially, socio-economically. Each faction has its own problems, errors, and transgressions. Some of these flaws are recognized by all; others fester, unnoticed. 

It would be easy to blame each of these groups of Jews for their own problems, but it would also be wrong. The bulk of the blame lies with the leaders – those in the remote past, the recent past, and the present. It is the leaders who have the power to protest and to put a stop to the problems which plague their people. It is the leaders who can articulate a vision of the good and formulate a plan to bring it about in action. The blame lies with them. 

But here’s the catch: by “leaders” I’m not just referring to those at the top of their respective spheres of influence; I’m talking about “anyone who has the ability to protest against others – whether a multitude or a few individuals – and doesn’t protest, but leaves them with their stumbling block.” By this definition, “leaders” include kings and fathers, roshei yeshiva and school-teachers, statesmen and neighbors, elders and older brothers, those who are respected for their wealth or for their wisdom. And yes, “leaders” include ourselves. 

Today is Rosh Chodesh Av. Nine days from now we will observe Tishah b’Av, one of the public fast days. These days have a common mission, as the Rambam articulates in Hilchos Taaniyos: [8] 

There are days on which all of Israel fasts because of the catastrophes that occurred on them, in order to awaken the hearts [of the people] and to open the paths of teshuvah. This will be a remembrance of our corrupt actions and the corrupt actions of our fathers that were like our actions today, which ultimately reached the point that [these corrupt actions] caused these catastrophes for them and for us. Through the remembrance of these things we will return to do good, as it stated, “they will confess their sins and the sins of their fathers” (Vayikra 26:40). 

Our national teshuvah has to start somewhere, but it is hard to begin if we don’t know where or with whom to place the blame. It is, after all, human nature to assign blame whenever something goes wrong. 

According to the implications of what we’ve written about today, the blame lies with ourselves, to the extent that each of us is a leader with a sphere of influence, however large or small that sphere may be. 

Perhaps, by recognizing the interconnectivity of Klal Yisrael, and by appreciating the weight of the power we have to shape the paths of the people within our daled amos (four cubits), we will, as a nation, begin anew the long process of returning to the good. 

[1] It’s unclear from the pesukim why Moshe got angry; see Ramban on Bamidbar 31:6 for an explanation. 

[2] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 31:14 

[3] Sifre 42 

[4] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Deos 6:7 

[5] ibid. Hilchos Teshuvah 4:1 

[6] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Yirmiyahu 2:8 

[7] Truthfully, according to my understanding, by the time Yirmiyahu’s prophetic career began, Bnei Yisrael had reached the point of no return. If they responded positively to his message and did teshuvah, the Beis ha’Mikdash would still be destroyed, and the exile still would have happened, but it wouldn’t have been as severe. 

[8] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zmanim, Hilchos Taaniyos 5:1

Haftaras Masei: Yirmiyahu's Rebuke of Chachamim

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Haftaras Masei: The Navi's Rebuke of Talmidei Chachamim

This week's haftarah is the second of the three special haftaros that we read during the Three Weeks between the 17th of Tammuz and Tishah b'Av. It is the first of Yirmiyahu ha'Navi's many prophecies of rebuke directed towards the errant Jews in the period immediately preceding the destruction of the first Beis ha'Mikdash. 

Towards this prophecy Yirmiyahu singles out four classes of leaders in Klal Yisrael and identifies a cheit (sin) for each one:

The Kohanim did not say, "Where is Hashem?"; those who grasp the Torah did not know Me; the shepherds rebelled against Me; the prophets prophesied by the Baal, and they went after that which do not yield benefit (Yirmiyahu 2:8).

The main question on this pasuk is simple: What, exactly, was the fault of each of these groups? The navi expresses each group's cheit in a concise manner. Our job is to "unpack" these terse statements and understand the nature of each problem. 

Originally I had planned to write this post about all four groups. However, after I started writing, I found my thoughts drawn to the second group: "those who grasp the Torah." Although I am not audacious enough to include myself in this category, my role as an educator most closely matches this societal class, and I have seen in myself the flaws that Yirmiyahu points out in these people. For this reason, I have chosen to make them the focus of this blog post. [1] 

We will examine three meforshim (commentators): the Malbim [2] and the Abravanel [3], both of whom take a similar approach, and the Radak [4], who takes a second approach. All three meforshim agree that "those who grasp the Torah" refers to talmidei chachamim (Torah scholars), but they differ in their understanding of the flaw that Yirmiyahu is highlighting.

Approach #1: Malbim and Abravanel

In the beur ha'milos (glossary) section of his commentary, the Malbim elucidates the nuances of Yirmiyahu's phraseology. He explains that the verb T.F.S. (ת.פ.שׂ.) in the term "tofsei ha'Torah" (תֹּפְשֵׂי הַתּוֹרָה) implies "grasping with the palm [of the hand]." It would seem that the best English translation would be "wield," based on the four examples provided by the Malbim: "tofes cherev" ("those who wield the sword"), "tofes keshes" ("those who wield a bow [and arrow]"), "tofes magal" ("those who wield a scythe"), "tofes kinor v'ugav" ("those who wield a harp and a pipe"). The Malbim holds that this terminology is being used here in reference to the talmidei chachamim "in a degrading manner ... as if the Torah, to them, is like a profession, and like a hatchet to chop with." 

In the main portion of his commentary, the Malbim focuses on a different quality. He writes: 

It would be proper for those who grasp the Torah to know Hashem, for this is the purpose of learning, but they did not know Me.

If we consider the two parts of his commentary together, it would appear that the Malbim learns as follows: because the talmidei chachamim relate to learning as a profession, or as a means of securing benefit, therefore their learning does not bring them to yedias Hashem (knowledge of God), which is the true purpose of learning.

The Abravanel takes a similar approach: 

Those who grasp the Torah are the wise men; they didn’t learn lishmah, but rather, they learned by rote or to profit from of the Crown [of Torah]; it is as if “they do not know Me.”

Both the Malbim and the Abravanel fault "those who grasp the Torah" for relating to their learning in an improper manner. The Malbim holds that they regarded learning "as a profession," but he doesn't elaborate on what he means by this. The Abravanel suggests that these chachamim "learned by rote" or "learned for [material] profit." 

Both the Malbim and the Abravanel hold that this type of learning would be considered "not knowing Me." The Malbim seems to maintain that their learning actually did not lead to yedias Hashem, whereas the Abravanel holds that their learning was "as if" they did not know Hashem.

The question is: How does learning "as if it were a profession" or "by rote" preclude learning as a means to "knowing Hashem"? We will return to this question after we examine the Radak's approach.

Approach #2: Radak

The Radak writes:

those who grasp the Torah – these are the wise men who learn Torah; they “did not know Me,” for they didn’t learn Torah lishmah (for its own saike) to fulfill what is written in it; rather, they learned [only] with their mouths and a divided heart; this is what it means by “they did not know Me,” because good thought and good actions constitute [real] “knowledge” – not learning [alone without action].

According to the Radak, the chachamim of the time compartmentalized their learning. They may have accumulated vast amounts of Torah knowledge, but this knowledge didn't culminate in action. This is what the Radak means by learning "with a divided heart": with one part of their heart they learned, but their actions stemmed from another part of their heart which was untouched by their learning.

This is what Yirmiyahu meant by "they did not know Me" - not that they lacked the ability to recite and explain the yesodei ha'Torah (the fundamental principles of Torah), but that this "knowledge" didn't affect the way they lived. 

The Radak's interpretation of Yirmiyahu's rebuke here is reminiscent of the Rambam's interpretation of another statement of Yirmiyahu: 

Thus says Hashem: "Let not the wise man glorify himself with his wisdom, nor let the mighty man glorify himself with his strength, nor let the rich man glorify himself in his wealth; but let him that glorify himself glory in this: understanding and knowing Me, that I am Hashem, Who does chesed (kindness), mishpat (justice), and tzedakah (righteousness) on earth, for in these is My desire" - the word of Hashem (Yirmiyahu 9:22-24).

Rambam [5] concludes the Moreh ha'Nevuchim by explaining the implications of Yirmiyahu's words:

The prophet does not content himself with explaining that the knowledge of God is the highest kind of perfection: for if this only had been his intention, he would have said, "for only with this may one glorify himself - contemplating and knowing Me," and would have stopped there; or he would have said, "that he understand and know Me that I Am One,” or, "that I have not any likeness," or, "that there is none like Me," or a similar phrase. He says, however, that man can only glory in the knowledge of God and in the knowledge of His ways and attributes, which are His actions ...

The prophet thus, in conclusion, says, "for in these is My desire - the word of Hashem," i.e., My object [in saying this] is that you shall practice chesed, mishpat, and tzedakah on earth. In a similar manner we have shown (1:54) that the purpose of the enumeration of God's thirteen attributes is the lesson that we should acquire similar attributes and act accordingly. The objective of the above passage is therefore to declare, that the perfection, in which man can truly glory, is attained by him when he has acquired – as far as this is possible for man – the knowledge of God, the knowledge of His providence, and of the manner in which it influences His creatures in their production and continued existence. Having acquired this knowledge he will then be determined always to seek chesed, mishpat, and tzedakah, and thus to imitate the ways of God.

True learning - and true knowledge of Hashem - naturally leads to emulation of His ways. If a person's learning does not affect his or her actions, then it is lacking. 

According to the Radak - and, by extension, the Rambam - the question is: In what sense is learning which doesn't culminate in action not considered "real" knowledge? It is easy to understand why this type of learning is inferior to learning which does culminate in action, but why is this learning considered to be worthy of tochachah (rebuke)? Doesn't it say in Pirkei Avos: "One who learns Torah in order to teach is granted the means to learn and to teach, but one who learns in order to do is granted the means to learn, to teach, to keep, and to do" (Avos 4:8)? Doesn't this imply that learning without the intent "to do," though not on the highest level, is at least worthy of "being granted the means to learn and to teach"? Moreover, don't Chazal teach us: "a person should always be involved in Torah and mitzvos even she'lo lishmah (not for its own sake), because from she'lo lishmah one comes to lishmah" (Pesachim 50b). These chachamim might not have been learning lishmah, but is their learning she'lo lishmah really that condemnable? 

If so, how can Yirmiyahu - according to the Radak - condemn the talmidei chachamim of that generation for learning without the intention to fulfill their learning in action, she'lo lishmah? How can he say that such learning doesn't qualify as "knowledge"? 

Conclusion of This Post

We concluded our summary of each approach with a question. Without answering these questions, we cannot fully understand the cheit of the tofsei ha'Torah. Without understanding the cheit of the tofsei ha'Torah, we - as a nation - cannot do teshuvah for that cheit, which still persists today. 

For this reason, I am not going to attempt to answer these questions here. I think that it would be more conducive to our national teshuvah to contemplate these faults on our own, to see how we and the talmidei chachamim in our society partake of them, and to use this knowledge to do teshuvah.

I would love to discuss possible answers in the comments of this blog post, or on Facebook. But for now, I think that it would be best to leave off with these questions. 

[1] As I mentioned, I initially set out to write about all four groups. Midway through writing I decided that I wanted to devote this post exclusively to the category of talmidei chachamim. But since I had already started writing the part about Kohanim, I decided to relegate it to this footnote. 

Radak explains:

We have explained this [as follows:] the Kohanim who are before Hashem (i.e. in the Beis ha’Mikdash) all day, [and who] bring sacrifices before Him, should have said to the nation that worships Baal, “Where is Hashem, such that you worship someone other than Him?”

Just as the bankers on Wall Street should have foreseen and warned people about the collapse of the U.S. housing bubble, and the engineers should have foreseen and taken measures to correct the inadequate preparations for Hurricane Katrina which resulted in nearly 2,000 deaths, so too, the Kohanim - the spiritual overseers of Bnei Yisrael who work at the spiritual center of the nation - should have recognized the extent to which avodah zarah had taken hold of their brethren and used their influence to return them to Hashem. 

The Abravanel offers a different reason for why the Kohanim were held culpable:

“the Kohanim didn’t say, ‘Where is Hashem?’” In other words, they didn’t pay attention to the miracles that were done in the Beis ha’Mikdash and it wasn't proper for them to refrain from rebuking the nation over this, saying, “Where is Hashem? for we no longer have miracles as in the early days.”

Chazal teach us that "ten miracles were done for our forefathers in the Beis ha'Midkash" (Avos 5:4). These miracles ceased prior to the destruction of the first Beis ha'Mikdash. Since many of these miracles were easily discernible, and since the Kohanim spent their days in the Mikdash, surely they noticed this cessation. They should have immediately recognized that this withdrawal of the shechinah (divine presence) was a sign that things had gone awry within the nation, and they should have pointed this fact out to the rest of Bnei Yisrael, who wouldn't necessarily have noticed this phenomenon. Yet, the Kohanim didn't do this. They just carried on with business as usual.

[2] Ha'Rav Meir Leibush ben Yehiel Michel Wisser (Malbim), Commentary on Sefer Yirmiyahu 2:8

[3] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Yirmiyahu 2:8

[4] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Yirmiyahu 2:8

[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Moreh ha'Nevuchim 3:54

Truman: On Kavod ha'Torah and Kavod ha'Briyos

Today is July 4th. As such, I thought it would be fitting to recognize the occasion with an appropriate blog post. In light of recent remarks made by our current president - and by "recent" I mean since January 20th, 2017 - I decided to re-post another tidbit of wisdom from President Truman. 

Note: The term "Kavod ha'Torah" (honor/dignity/respect of Torah) is being used analogously, as will be explained in the post. The term "Kavod ha'Brios" (honor/dignity/respect of human beings) is being used literally. 

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Truman: On Kavod ha'Torah and Kavod ha'Briyos

The mishnah in Avos 2:10 (or 2:14) says: 

Rabbi Eliezer says: (a) Let your fellow's honor be as dear to you as your own and do not anger easily; (b) repent one day before your death; and (c) warm yourself by the fire of the chachamim (wise men), but beware of their glowing coal lest you be burnt - for their bite is the bite of a fox, their sting is the sting of a scorpion, their hiss is the hiss of a serpent, and all their words are like fiery coals.

The meforshim (commentators) interpret the last clause as a warning not to behave too casually with the chachamim, lest you overstep your boundaries and neglect to treat them with the honor and respect they deserve. If you make this mistake, do not be surprised if you incur their wrath.

I recently finished my periodic re-reading of Merle Miller's Plain Speaking: An Oral Biography of Harry S. Truman (1974), which I highly recommend. Towards the end (pp. 384-385) the author recounts an anecdote which illustrates this last point quite nicely, though the context is obviously different:

In 1964 Eric Sevareid in a conversation with Mr. Truman got on the same subject, and he quoted him as saying, "What you don't understand is the power of a President to hurt." 

Sevareid added, "An American President has the power to build, to set fateful events in motion, to destroy an enemy civilization, to win or lose a vast personal following. But the power of a President to hurt the feelings of another human being - this, I think, had scarcely occurred to me, and still less had it occurred to me that a President in office would have the time and the need to be aware of this particular power among so many others. 

"Mr. Truman went on to observe that a word, a harsh glance, a peremptory motion by a President of the United States, could so injure another man's pride that it would remain a scar on his emotional system all his life."  

Then Sevareid recalled an episode that the President had also told me, shortly after it happened, in the late winter or spring of 1962. He had given a lecture at, I believe, the University of Southern California, in any case at a college or university in Southern California; the lecture was on the subject he loved best, the Constitution and the Presidency. 

During the question period a boy got up and said, "Mr. President, what do you think of our local yokel?" He meant Pat Brown, then governor.  

Mr. Truman told the boy that he should be ashamed of himself, that to speak of the governor of a state in such a disrespectful way, even if he disagreed with him, was a shameful thing. The boy, close to tears, sat down. 

When the question period was over, Mr. Truman went to the boy and said that he hoped he would understand that what he had said had to do with the principle involved and that he meant nothing personal. The boy said that he did understand, and the two shook hands.  

Afterward Mr. Truman went to see the dean to ask him to send reports from time to time on the boy's progress in school. The dean said he would and had. 

I asked Mr. Truman if he had ever heard from the boy himself, and he said, "He's written me two or three times, and I've written him back. He's doing well."  

Sevareid said of the incident, "The simple point here is that Mr. Truman had instantly realized how a public scolding by a former President could mark and mar the boy's inner life and his standing in the community.

"I feel gratified to have heard this story. It has given me an insight into the responsibilities of a President that I did not have, and it has immeasurably added to my own residue of memories about the man from Missouri."

Aside from illustrating the consequence mentioned in the mishnah in Avos, this anecdote also provides a valuable lesson in the sensitivity a leader should have.

Now that I think about it, this story also exemplifies an interesting halacha. The last chapter of the Rambam's Hilchos Talmud Torah (Laws of Torah Study) is devoted to the laws of kavod talmidei chachamim (honoring Torah sages):

Even though a chacham may place a person under a ban of ostracism [to preserve] his honor, it is not praiseworthy for a chacham to accustom himself to this practice. Instead, he should turn his ears from the words of the ignoramuses and not pay attention to them, as Shlomo said in his wisdom: “Also, do not pay heed to all the words that are spoken” (Koheles 7:21). 

This was the practice of the Chasidim ha'Rishonim (pious of the early generations). They would hear their shame and not answer. Furthermore, they would pardon and forgive the person who insulted them. The great sages would take pride in their pleasant deeds, relating that they never issued a ban of ostracism or excommunication [to protect] their honor. This is the path of the talmidei chachamim which is worthy of being followed. 

When does the above apply? When [the person] spurned or embarrassed [the sage] in private. However, if one spurns or embarrasses a sage in public, it is forbidden for the sage to forgo his honor. Indeed, if he does so, he is punished, because the disrespect of the Torah is involved. Instead, he should seek vengeance and carry enmity over the matter like a snake until the offender requests to be pardoned. Then, he should forgive him.

The halacha differentiates between the talmid chacham's personal feelings and the Torah that he represents. The chacham has the right to forego his own honor and it is considered praiseworthy if he is able to do so, but if he is insulted in public, then the kavod ha'Torah (honor of Torah) is at stake, and it is forbidden for him to forgive the offender until the latter asks for forgiveness.

Truman took this very approach (albeit with the honor of the United States of America, rather than Torah). When the young man disrespected the governor, Truman reprimanded him harshly in order to preserve the honor of the nation as represented by the governor. But afterwards, Truman took care to make sure the offender understood "that what he had said had to do with the principle involved and that he meant nothing personal."

The talmid chacham must be also be able to distinguish between his personal feelings, on the one hand, and the kavod ha'Torah which he embodies, on the other. To equate the two in either direction would be a distortion.

Haftaras Parashas Pinchas: How Eliyahu ha’Navi Lost His Job

I initially intended to write this week's dvar Torah blog post on the haftarah of Parashas Pinchas. Since Parashas Pinchas falls out after the 17th of Tammuz this year, the regular haftarah is replaced with the first chapter of Sefer Yirmiyahu. Unfortunately, I am writing this on a plane, and I only have access to meforshim on the regular haftarah of Parashas Pinchas. For this reason, I decided to write about that haftarah instead.

Artwork: Gideon, Champion of Justice
(This is what I imagine a young Eliyahu ha'Navi looked like)

Haftaras Parashas Pinchas: How Eliyahu ha’Navi Lost His Job

In the seventh perek of Shemoneh Perakim, the Rambam writes that ethical perfection (a.k.a. “perfection of middos”) is a prerequisite for nevuah. However, he notes that it is not necessary for the navi to have reached total perfection in all of his or her middos. The Rambam cites several examples of neviim who were still able to receive nevuah, in spite of their ethical imperfections: Shlomo ha’Melech still struggled with his taavah for women; David ha’Melech had problems with cruelty; both Shmuel ha’Navi and Yaakov Avinu were unduly afraid of those who posed a threat to them (i.e. Shaul and Eisav, respectively); and Eliyahu ha’Navi had issues with anger.

In this dvar Torah we will examine an instance of Eliyahu’s anger and its repercussions.

The Haftarah: According to Ralbag

In the perek which precedes our haftarah, Eliyahu manages to convince Bnei Yisrael that “Hashem – He is the God! Hashem – He is the God” (I Melachim 18:39) at the climax of his miraculous demonstration before the priests of Baal. Unfortunately, the success doesn’t last. Bnei Yisrael remain attached to avodah zarah, and regress to their old ways. Moreover, Achav and Eezevel – the evil king and queen of Israel – proceed with their plan to exterminate all neviim. Our haftarah begins with Eliyahu fleeing for his life.

Eliyahu retreats to the desert to minimize his chances of getting caught. After nearly starving to death and begging Hashem to take his life, he is saved by an angel of Hashem who provides him with food and lodging in the wilderness. The angel encourages Eliyahu to continue on his journey. Finally, after 40 days and 40 nights of traveling, Eliyahu arrives at Har Sinai, where he crawls into a cave and goes to sleep.

That night Eliyahu receives a prophetic dream. At the beginning of the dream he is asked, “Why are you here, Eliyahu?” (ibid. 19:9). Although this is clearly a rhetorical question – since Hashem is Omniscient, and knows why Eliyahu is here – it is still a peculiar question to ask, since it doesn’t seem as though Eliyahu initially planned to journey to Har Sinai. Eliyahu answers:

“I have acted with great zeal for Hashem, God of Legions, for the Children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant; they have razed Your altars and have killed Your prophets by the sword, so [that] I alone have remained, and they now seek to take my life” (ibid. 19:10).

According to the Ralbag, Eliyahu was angry at the sin of Israel. In his response to Hashem, Eliyahu was implicitly asking Him to exact vengeance from them. Hashem responds to this request in a cryptic manner:

[The word of God] then said, “Go out [of the cave] and stand on the mountain before Hashem.” And behold, Hashem was passing, and a great, powerful wind, smashing mountains and breaking rocks, went before Hashem. “Hashem is not in the wind!” [Eliyahu was told]. After the wind came an earthquake. “Hashem is not in the earthquake!” After the earthquake came a fire. “Hashem is not in the fire!” After the fire came a still, thin sound (ibid. 19:11-12).

The basic question is: What was the meaning of this prophetic vision? We know that all neviim (except Moshe Rabbeinu) received their prophecies in the form of images, which they must interpret as allegories. In some cases, the pesukim relate both the images and their meaning; in other cases, only the meaning is conveyed, and imagery is omitted; and in other cases – such as this one – only the images are recorded in the pesukim, and the meaning is left for us to decipher.

Ralbag proposes the following theory about the meaning of this vision, and its relationship to the events which preceded and followed it: 

It would seem that Hashem [showed Eliyahu this vision] to prompt him to ask for mercy on behalf of Israel – not to pray for them to be destroyed for their evil ways – for Hashem desires to delay His anger so that they will do teshuvah [and return] to Him. 

Accordingly, Hashem showed him destructive phenomena, such as “a great and powerful wind, smashing mountains and breaking rocks,” and told him that “Hashem is not in the wind” – for the derech of Hashem is to bring harm upon someone only as a means of bringing about good. Since it was clear to Hashem that Israel would not accept His rebuke, He didn’t want to punish them for their sins in the full measure that they deserved, but instead, He waited for them to see whether they would do teshuvah from their evil ways. 

“And after the wind came an earthquake,” which is more harmful than the wind, insofar as it is capable of overturning the earth. And it also mentioned, “Hashem is not in the earthquake!” as it mentioned about the wind. “And after the earthquake came a fire,” which is even more harmful. And it also mentioned, “Hashem is not in the fire!” for the same reason we mentioned. 

It is as though He was explaining through this that such harmful phenomena are not directly intended by Hashem, but rather, He concealed His countenance (i.e. He withdrew His hashgachah pratis) from Israel and abandoned them to the rain of the arrows [of chance] which were ready to befall them. The reason for this is that the [hashgachic] harms which are intended to deliver mussar (rebuke) would not benefit Israel [in this case] … 

But “After the fire came a still, thin sound” – in other words, a very low sound from Hashem, as if it were a composite of sound and silence. Through this [Hashem intended] to convey [the message] that since Israel fell into these evils, and did not sense that it was their own sins which caused them to be abandoned to the vicissitudes of chance, therefore, a special type of mussar would come from Hashem, but it would not be as complete as the manner in which Hashem brought mussar to Bnei Yisrael in the Wilderness during the days of Moshe, which they immediately perceived as [being brought about] on account of their sins; rather, this mussar would be like a composite of sound and silence. 

Such was the meaning of Hashem’s prophecy to Eliyahu. To summarize: Hashem sought to show him that Israel did not deserve the full measure of Hashem’s mussar – namely, the type of miraculous “fire and brimstone” hashgachic punishments which Eliyahu, in his anger, requested. Hashem reminded him that He only brings such punishments upon those who would benefit from them, and Israel was already beyond the point where they would benefit from this type of punishment.  

What happens next is interesting: 

It happened that when Eliyahu heard [this], he wrapped his face in his mantle, and he went out and stood by the cave’s entrance; and behold, a voice [spoke] unto him, and said, “Why are you here, Eliyahu?”

Hashem asks Eliyahu the very same question he asked him at the outset of his prophecy. And how does Eliyahu answer?

[Eliyahu] said, “I have acted with great zeal for Hashem, God of legions, for the Children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant; they have razed Your altars and have killed Your prophets by the sword, so [that] I alone have remained, and they now seek to take my life (ibid. 19:14).

Eliyahu responded in exactly the same manner that he the first time! What does this indicate? Why did Hashem ask him the same question twice, and why did Eliyahu give the same answer? Moreover, what are we supposed to learn from the fact that Eliyahu repeated his original answer to Hashem’s question? Ralbag writes:

It would seem that Eliyahu was so angry about the sin of the Jews that he didn’t pay enough attention to comprehend the meaning of Hashem’s prophecy. For this reason, Hashem responded [to Eliyahu’s response] differently than He did the first time.

What was Hashem’s response to Eliyahu the second time around?

Then Hashem said to him, “Go, return on your way, and go to the Wilderness of Damascus. When you arrive, you shall anoint Chazael as king over Aram. And you shell anoint Yehu ben Nimshi as a king over Israel. And you shall anoint Elisha ben Shaphat as a navi in your stead” (ibid. 19:15-16).

That’s right: Eliyahu failed the single-question exam that Hashem set up for him, and lost his job as the navi of Israel, and was instructed to appoint Elisha as his successor. At the end of the section, the Ralbag reiterates and expands upon his theory:

[This incident with Eliyahu was recorded] to teach us that the purpose of the navi’s existence is to supervise the people in whose midst he prophesies. Thus, when the navi utilizes his prophecy for some other purpose, the Divine Wisdom will no longer consent to his being a prophet for that nation. 

For this reason we find it related that when Hashem saw that Eliyahu requested for harm to befall Israel, Hashem [attempted] to guide him to understand that He doesn’t desire to bring harm. It is for this reason that [Eliyahu] saw a prophetic vision of a wind, an earthquake, and a fire [and was told] that Hashem was not in them. Afterwards he was shown Hashem’s glory and was asked a second time, “Why are you here, Eliyahu?” It would seem that because of Eliyahu’s anger over the sin of Israel, he was incapable of deciphering the divine intent of this prophecy that Hashem had shown him. It is for this reason that he answered Hashem again in the same way that he did the first time. 

And when Hashem saw that he was utilizing his prophecy [in an attempt] to bring harm to Israel – which was the opposite of what [Hashem] intended – then He informed him that he was to appoint Elisha as a navi in his place …

In other words, when Hashem rhetorically asked, “Why are you here?” He wasn’t asking about why Eliyahu was here, in this physical location of Har Sinai. Rather, he was asking him, “What is your role here?” He was prompting Eliyahu to recall why he was appointed as navi in the first place, and to examine whether his present request was consistent with that role. Hashem even gave him a hint in the form of the vision about the destructive phenomena and the still, thin sound. But when Hashem asked Eliyahu the same question again, and Eliyahu repeated his wrong answer, that was it. He had missed his one opportunity for teshuvah, and the divine plan had to change.

A Take-away Lesson for Non-neviim

In Hilchos Deos 6:7, the Rambam presents the mitzvah upon every Jew to rebuke his fellow Jew. He walks us through the proper procedure for delivering and accepting rebuke, and cautions us not to violate the Torah-prohibition against embarrassing a fellow Jew – especially in public. However, he adds a qualification to this prohibition:

In which cases does this prohibition apply? In matters between man and man. But in matters of heaven, if a person doesn't return [in teshuvah] in private, we shame him in public, publicize his sin, insult him to his face, and degrade him and curse him until he returns to the good - just as all of the neviim of Israel did.*

There are many of us (myself included) who sometimes find ourselves feeling anger at our fellow Jews for their words, their actions, and their beliefs which we consider to be wrong or evil. We are sometimes prone to shaming, bad-mouthing, insulting, degrading, and cursing those whom we feel “have forsaken the covenant of Hashem,” believing ourselves to be “acting with great zeal for Hashem, God of Legions” – just like Eliyahu ha’Navi.

At times like these, when we feel ourselves in the grip of such righteous zeal, it would behoove us to remember what happened to Eliyahu. He was acting for the sake of Hashem, and he did have Israel’s interests in mind. Nevertheless, his anger affected his role as the guide and shepherd of Israel. Because he allowed his anger to cloud his mind, Hashem removed him from his leadership position.

If this was Hashem’s will in the case of Eliyahu ha’Navi, kal va’chomer for lowly individuals such as ourselves, whose religious zeal is almost entirely a psychological byproduct of our ignorance and our numerous ethical imperfections. If Eliyahu ha’Navi lacked sufficient anger-management skills to prevent his personal feelings from affecting his efforts to better the lot of his Jewish brethren, then certainly we – at least, the vast majority of us – are in no position to express our righteous indignation at those we deem to be wrong.

And if we are compelled to attempt to correct our fellow Jews, we would benefit by remembering that Hashem is not in the wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire – but in the still, thin sound.

* It should be noted that this halacha may or may not apply nowadays. I have heard chachamim say things to the effect of, “Bizman ha’zeh, we don’t know how to give rebuke” and I have likewise been told that bizman ha’zeh, we no longer utilize the method of “public shaming and shunning” as a catalyst for teshuvah, since it is likely to backfire. Although I hope that a person would draw this conclusion from the blog post itself, I nevertheless felt that this point deserved its own footnote.