Showing posts with label Shabbos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shabbos. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

“Hump Day,” Wednesday, and Yom Revii l’Shabbos

The Torah content for these two weeks has been sponsored by Judah and Naomi Dardik in loving memory of Rabbi Moskowitz zt''l, who taught his students to pursue truth by asking questions, who modeled love of Torah and learning, and who exemplified living a life of the mind.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article, and click here for an audio version.

Artwork: Sisyphus (cropped), by Jeffrey Hummel




“Hump Day,” Wednesday, and Yom Revii l’Shabbos

I was sitting in Starbucks when I heard a customer exclaim to the barista, "happy hump day!" For those who aren’t familiar with this American idiom, here’s an explanation from grammarist.com:

Hump day is an idiom that means Wednesday, a day of the week. The term hump day first appeared in the 1960s in North America, most probably in business offices. Hump day is based on the idea that the work week is a mountain one must climb. The general office work week is Monday through Friday, consisting of five days. This puts Wednesday in the middle, or at the peak or hump of the work week. Monday and Tuesday are the “climbing” days of the week, and are therefore psychologically difficult to get through. Wednesday is the highest part of this climb up a proverbial mountain. The thinking goes that if one can make it to hump day, then Thursday and Friday are an easy slide into the weekend.

Upon hearing the exchange in Starbucks, I immediately thought to myself, “Thank God I’m Jewish.” Allow me to explain.

In the Aseres ha’Dibros in Yisro, the mitzvah of Shabbos is introduced with: “Remember the Shabbos day to sanctify it” (Shemos 20:7). Although this is primarily a reference to kiddush, Chazal also say: “Do not count [the days of the week] as others count; rather, count in the name of Shabbos” (Mechilta d’Rebbi Yishmael, Shemos 20:7). In Judaism, we do not refer to the days of the week with proper nouns. Instead, we identify each day by its ordinal relationship to Shabbos. Thus, instead of saying, “Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, etc.” we say, “the 1st day [counting down] to Shabbos, the 2nd day [counting down] to Shabbos, the 3rd day [counting down] to Shabbos, etc.” Ramban (ibid.) provides several rationales for this:

According to the pshat (straightforward meaning), [the Sages] said that it is a mitzvah to remember Shabbos every day so that we neither forget it nor mix it up with other days, for by remembering it continually, we recall the creation every day and gratefully acknowledge that the universe has a Creator, and that He commanded us in this sign, as He said: “for it is a sign between Me and you” (Shemos 31:13), and it is a fundamental principal of our conviction in God.

In other words, this naming convention converts each weekday into a vehicle for remembering Shabbos. According to the Ramban, this accomplishes three things: (a) it reduces the chances of forgetting which day is Shabbos, (b) it reinforces the fundamental truth that Hashem created the universe, and (c) it prompts us to recall, with gratitude, that He commanded us in the institution of Shabbos, which not only preserves the truth of briah yesh me'ayin (creation ex nihilo), but also affords us the many benefits of a day of rest. And while most of us do not actually refer to the days of the week in this manner, we make sure to fulfill this daily recollection at the end of shacharis every morning when we recite the shir shel yom, which is preceded by mentioning the day of the week in accordance with this formula.

How different – and how superior – is our name for this day in comparison to “Wednesday” and “hump day”! According to Wikipedia, “Wednesday” is derived from the Old English Wōdnesdæg and Middle English Wednesdei, meaning “day of Woden,” which is the Anglo-Saxon equivalent of the Norse god Odin. Although “Wednesday” is the term we use most often, its origin is undoubtedly pagan. Even if that isn’t halachically problematic, it’s not ideal from a Torah perspective. Calling Wednesday “hump day” underscores the burden of the workweek without any reference to what we are working towards or why we are working. In truth, “hump day” is actually a veiled complaint: “Finally we’re halfway through the toil of this week!” This idiom elevates our own feelings of annoyance and relief to the level of primacy.

In contrast to both of these, “yom revii l’Shabbos” (“the 4th day [counting down] to Shabbos”) is free from these negative associations. Instead, it brings to mind the halachic system, evokes a fundamental idea with far-reaching philosophical and ethical implications, and awakens feelings of gratitude to Hashem for the world we live in, the nation we belong to, and the mitzvos we have been given. That is why hearing “happy hump day!” made me thank God that I am Jewish. And now my hope is that the next time you hear the term "hump day," it causes you to remember Shabbos.
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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.

If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  Email me if you'd like to be added to my WhatsApp group where I share all of my content and public shiur info. 

Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Minhag Mythbusters: Does a Husband Sing Eishes Chayil for His Wife?

The Torah content for these two weeks has been sponsored by Judah and Naomi Dardik in loving memory of Rabbi Moskowitz zt''l, who taught his students to pursue truth by asking questions, who modeled love of Torah and learning, and who exemplified living a life of the mind.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article, and click here for an audio version.

Photo: Mishlei 31:10-14, Aleppo Codex 32-292-r

Minhag Mythbusters: Does a Husband Sing Eishes Chayil for His Wife?


There is a widespread minhag to sing Eishes Chayil on Friday night before kiddush. Many are under the impression that a husband sings this to (or for) his wife, as the English book Rite and Reason: 1050 Jewish Customs and Their Sources (1995) states: “[Eishes Chayil] contains praise for one’s wife who exerted herself and prepared the Shabbos delicacies.” But is this the actual reason why we sing Eishes Chayil? Specifically, is this the basis of the original minhag or is this a post-facto explanation? And if the latter, when and how did things change, and what are the implications for how we relate to the practice? These questions were posed to me, and I’d like to summarize my findings here.

Let us start with the text of Eishes Chayil itself, i.e. the final 22 pesukim of Sefer Mishlei. Could these pesukim apply to one’s wife? Certainly. But is that likely? No, it is highly unlikely. Says who? Says Shlomo ha’Melech in the opening pasuk of Eishes Chayil: “An accomplished woman, who can find? Her value is far beyond pearls” (Mishlei 31:10). In other words, a true eishes chayil is a rarity of rarities, and it would be extremely unlikely that every Jewish husband who sings this song was able to find and marry one. What if the husband who sings this to his wife is not doing so because she is an eishes chayil but because she aspires to be? That would be great! However, I doubt that most women hear Eishes Chayil and think to themselves, “My husband is telling me that these are the expectations I should live up to.” And if we take the allegorical reading – that Eishes Chayil is about Torah, or the psyche, or the soul – then it certainly wouldn’t be relevant to sing to one’s wife. And either way, what does Eishes Chayil have to do with Shabbos evening?

So, where did the minhag originate, if not from the pshat of the pesukim? Professor Yael Levin answers:

Contrary to popular opinion, the minhag to recite [Eishes Chayil] did not originate with [a husband] showing honor to his Jewish wife who toiled and worked to prepare Shabbos – which is an implication that developed over the years. Rather, the foundation [of this minhag] is a Kabbalistic ritual which developed in Safed (Tzfat) in the middle of the 15th century. Its recitation constituted a component of a symbolic wedding ceremony which began with the Kabbalists going out to the fields outside of the city several hours before the onset of Shabbos; there they would greet the [Sabbath] bride with the recitation of poems and chapters of Psalms – the most well-known of which is the poem "Lecha Dodi." At a much later stage, they stopped going out to the fields, and the minhag transitioned to the courtyard of the synagogue. Upon arriving at home, they would announce in a loud voice with great joy, "Shabbat shalom!" like a bridegroom greeting the bride with great joy and a smiling countenance. At an even later date, their minhag was to circle the table clockwise two times: first they would circle it in silence, and once they finished, they would take two myrtle branches - one in the right hand and one in the left - join them together, make a blessing on them, smell their fragrance, and immediately afterwards they would circle the table a second time. Nowadays they sing Shalom Aleichem and, in a beautiful melody while sitting, they sing the song of Eishes Chayil corresponding to the shechinah, "which contains 22 pesukim corresponding to the 22 heavenly pipes which are open at that time and empty out a flow of blessing from the heavenly wellspring from the head of all the crowns."

In other words, the minhag to recite Eishes Chayil had nothing to do with husbands and wives! The “eishes chayil” in the text was taken to be an allegorical reference to “the Sabbath bride,” and it wasn’t even recited in the home or on Shabbos itself! Only when the original significance of the minhag was forgotten did people take this to be about actual wives. Moreover, Eishes Chayil was only recited but wasn’t sung until the melody was composed by Benzion Shenker in 1946!

What are the implications of such findings? Do we embrace the current “folk explanation” as a “legitimate” post-facto reason for the minhag? Do we strive to raise awareness of the minhag’s true origins? Regardless of the answer, one thing is clear: it is better to know where a minhag came from than to not know.

One of the many aspects of Judaism I appreciate is the ability to conduct “halachic archaeology.” In other religions and cultures, asking, “Why do we do XYZ?” will often be met with a shrug – or worse, with the non-answer of “TRADITION!” In Judaism, there are always answers, and it is always possible to conduct research to find them.
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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.

If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast""The Stoic Jew" Podcast"Rambam Bekius" Podcast"Machshavah Lab" Podcast"The Tefilah Podcast"  Email me if you'd like to be added to my WhatsApp group where I share all of my content and public shiur info. 

Monday, June 20, 2022

An Example of My Idiosyncratic Brand of Spirituality

This week's Torah content has been sponsored by Naomi Mann in honor of Rabbi Moskowitz zt"l, whose shloshim is this week.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article, and click here for an audio version.

Artwork: Golden Hind, by Cyril Van Der Haegen





An Example of My Idiosyncratic Brand of Spirituality

This past Friday I made my annual summer pilgrimage back to the Pacific Northwest. After waking up super early on Shabbos morning, I decided to daven at home. I was in the middle of saying my post-shacharis Ashrei when something stirred in my peripheral vision. I turned and – behold! – outside the picture window, not 15 feet away, stood a baby deer, munching on leaves from a tree in the front yard. When I moved closer, the deer froze and looked sharply in my direction, whereupon we made prolonged motionless eye contact for what felt like a full minute. Once the deer perceived that I wasn’t a threat, it continued eating and I resumed my recitation of Ashrei while watching it eat.

It then dawned on me that the contents of the pesukim I was reciting were unfolding before me in real time: “All eyes [look] towards You with hope, and You give them their food in its time. You open Your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing” (Tehilim 145:15-16). My mind went to the Radak’s explanation, which I had taught earlier this year:

"All eyes [look] towards You with hope": Likewise, he said: "all [the animals] hope towards You" (ibid. 104:27), for You created all the earthly creatures and You created their food - some eat grass, some eat seeds, and some eat other animals - and their eyes all depend on You and hope towards You, "and You give them their food in its time" through the chain of causality [in nature]. He said "in its time" in the singular because each and every species has its own time when its food comes about. He said "they hope towards You" [because] even though [these animals] lack knowledge, they instinctively yearn for their fixed portion that is given to them, and we [humans] are the ones who know that their hope is towards You, for You are the One Who prepares and provides.

I’ve recited these pesukim three times a day for as long as I’ve been Jewish, but it wasn’t until that moment that I felt like I was actually praising Hashem. I felt close to Hashem, as described towards the end of Ashrei: “Hashem is close to all who call Him, to all who call Him in truth,” which the Radak explains to mean, “with mouth and heart-mind [1] in harmony.”

This experience was amplified by the fact that it was Shabbos, a day about which the psalmist writes: “For You have gladdened me, Hashem, with Your deed; about Your handiwork I will sing joyously. How great are Your works, Hashem; [how] very deep are Your thoughts!” (Tehilim 92:5-6). Radak explains:

“For You have gladdened me” – On the Shabbos day You have gladdened me in my contemplation of “Your deed” and “Your handiwork,” which is the world and everything in it. On the Shabbos day, when I am able to contemplate, then I will rejoice. This is a reference to the natural sciences. When I contemplate [science] and apprehend through it whatever I apprehend, I will rejoice and sing joyously with my heart-mind. And since each thinker contemplates the work of God [with his own heart-mind], therefore he said, “You have gladdened meI will sing joyously,” in the singular.

There are many models of spirituality [2] within Judaism: the ecstatic religiosity of Hasidism, the mystical practices of Kabbalah, the existentialist yearnings of Rav Soloveitchik, and much, much more. To each their own. As for me, in these recent years I have found great fulfillment in my ongoing (re)discovery and (re)cultivation of an intellectual-emotional spirituality grounded in Sefer Tehillim, as elucidated by the philosophical Rishonim (i.e. Radak, Meiri, Sforno) within the framework of the Rambam’s approach to Torah. An explanation of what this entails is beyond the scope of this article. But if the experience I described above resonates with you, then I encourage you to learn Tehilim towards this end.

[1] The Hebrew word “lev” can mean “heart,” “mind,” or both, depending on the context. I recently heard Tara Brach use the term “heartmind,” and although it’s awkward to use a made up term, it really does capture the sense of the Hebrew.

[2] In my fiery youth, I used to privately refer to the term “spirituality” as “the s-word.” It’s not that I objected to the concept itself. Rather, I objected to its typically vague usage across the entire spectrum of religiosity. That's why I avoid it ... except in this article.

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If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.

If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

Tehilim 92: Mizmor Shir l'Yom ha'Shabbos

Although this can be read as a standalone post, I highly recommend reading my How to Learn Tehilim (Psalms) post first, in order to familiarize yourself with the methodology I'll be using.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post. 


Artwork: Wildest Dreams, by Daniel Ljunggren


Tehilim 92: Mizmor Shir l'Yom ha'Shabbos

Here is the text of Tehilim 92:
Tehilim 92 
(1) A psalm, a song for the Sabbath day. (2) It is good to thank Hashem and to sing to Your Name, O Exalted One; (3) to recount Your kindness in the morning, and Your faithfulness in the nights. (4) Upon a ten-stringed instrument and upon lyre, with singing [accompanied] by harp. (5) For You have gladdened me, Hashem, with Your actions; about Your handiwork I will sing joyously. (6) How great are Your works, Hashem; [how] very deep are Your thoughts - (7) a boorish man doesn’t know, and a fool doesn’t understand this - (8) when the wicked bloom like grass, and all the doers of iniquity blossom, it is to destroy them forever and ever. (9) But You [remain] exalted forever, Hashem. (10) For behold Your enemies, Hashem, for behold – Your enemies shall perish; dispersed shall be all doers of iniquity. (11) You raised like a re’eim my pride; I was saturated with fresh oil. (12) My eyes have seen my foes; when those who would harm me rise up my ears have heard. (13) A righteous person will flourish like a date palm, and like a cedar in the Lebanon he will grow tall. (14) Planted in the house of Hashem, in the courtyards of our God they will flourish. (15) They will still be fruitful in old age, vigorous and fresh they will be, (16) to tell that Hashem is upright, my Rock in Whom there is no injustice.
Let's review our basic method. The four questions we're going to try to answer are:
(1) What is this perek about as a whole? What is the main idea? What major insight is this teaching us about Hashem and His relationship to His world - or how He relates to man, in particular?
(2) What is being said in detail, and how? How does each pasuk - or each word and phrase - contribute to the main idea?
(3) Is this perek true, in whole or in part? Remember: it's not enough to know what David ha'Melech thought, nor is it enough to accept the truth of Tehilim based on the authority of Torah she'bi'Chsav (even though we have no choice but to start with this). We must strive to verify the contents of this perek to the satisfaction of our own minds. 
(4) What of it? What "inspiration via knowledge" is this perek written to bring about? How is the main idea in this perek supposed to affect your life, your view of reality, and your relationship with God? What else follows - what is further implied or suggested by the insights? What else can you do to internalize and be moved by these ideas? 
The only question we will not attempt to fully answer is Question #2, since I specifically want to avoid getting too bogged down in details, as I wrote about in my methodology article.

Question #1: What is this perek about as a whole?

According to our methodology, the first step is to find "the pivot point." In this case, the pivot point is obviously verse 7: "a boorish man doesn’t know, and a fool doesn’t understand this." This is a unique type of pivot point in that it can be read with either half of the perek. [1] If read with the first half, it will look like this:
A psalm, a song for the Sabbath day. It is good to thank Hashem and to sing to Your Name, O Exalted One; to recount Your kindness in the morning, and Your faithfulness in the nights. Upon a ten-stringed instrument and upon lyre, with singing [accompanied] by harp. For You have gladdened me, Hashem, with Your actions; about Your handiwork I will sing joyously. How great are Your works, Hashem; [how] very deep are Your thoughts! A boorish man doesn’t know [how great Your works are], and a fool doesn’t understand [how very deep are Your thoughts].
If read in accordance with the second half, it will look like this:
A boorish man doesn’t know, and a fool doesn’t understand [the following phenomenon]: when the wicked bloom like grass, and all the doers of iniquity blossom, it is to destroy them forever and ever. But You [remain] exalted forever, Hashem. For behold Your enemies, Hashem, for behold – Your enemies shall perish; dispersed shall be all doers of iniquity. You raised like a re’eim my pride; I was saturated with fresh oil. My eyes have seen my foes; when those who would harm me rise up my ears have heard. A righteous person will flourish like a date palm, and like a cedar in the Lebanon he will grow tall. Planted in the house of Hashem, in the courtyards of our God they will flourish. They will still be fruitful in old age, vigorous and fresh they will be, to tell that Hashem is upright, my Rock in Whom there is no injustice.
Now that we've discovered the pivot point, the four sub-questions we must answer under the heading of Question #1 are: (a) What is the main idea of the first half? (b) What is the main idea of the second half? (c) What is the unified idea (i.e. the main idea of the perek)? (d) What is the purpose or function of the pivot point? 

In this case, I believe we can answer all four sub-questions in one shot. Here is my summary of the main idea in four sentences:
The purpose of this perek is to answer the question of how the wicked are able to flourish in a world governed by Divine justice.[2] David ha'Melech's answer is that the only person who will be bothered by this question is the foolish, boorish man who doesn't comprehend the perfection, harmony, and depth of God's wisdom in nature. To the extent that a person recognizes how all natural systems operate in accordance with perfect justice - with every component perfectly suited to achieve its end, and each species receiving exactly what it needs for the continuity of the system as a whole - he or she will also recognize that there must be a similarly perfect system which governs human beings; just as there will inevitably be destructive consequences for interfering in a natural system, so too, there will be destructive consequences for those who deviate from the Creator's laws which govern human interactions. True, the wicked may flourish, but their success is short lived, like lowly grasses that quickly wither and die, whereas the righteous flourish like date palms and cedars - tall, long-lasting, and bearing fruit into their old age. 
This answers all of the sub-questions under Question #1: (a) the main idea of the first half is that nature is absolutely perfect and reflects the profound wisdom of the Creator in its lawful design; (b) the main idea of the second half is that the flourishing of the wicked is only temporary and is destined to end in destruction, whereas the flourishing of the righteous is the opposite; (c) the unity in the perek is that the human realm is merely a special case of the general character of the universe as a whole, and operates in accordance with the same principles, the same perfection, and the same justice; (d) the function of the pivot is to bring us to the realization that the key to seeing the justice in the human sphere is to recognize the justice in the natural world, and that to the extent that one recognition is lacking, so will the other. 

Question #2: What is being said in detail, and how?

As I said, I'm not going to go into this part in depth. I'll just write a few brief comments on each pasuk or two in order to give you an idea of how deep and how not deep I like to go when answering Question #2:
(1) Shabbos embodies the main idea of this perek since it is a day devoted to both objectives: recognizing God's wisdom in nature (zeicher l'Maaseh Bereishis - remembering the Act of Creation) and His justice in the human realm (zeicher l'Yetzias Mitzrayim - remembering the Exodus from Egypt). Moreover, Shabbos affords us the opportunity to re-calibrate ourselves to the Maaseh Bereishis framework, since the issur melachah (prohibition of creative work on Shabbos) forces us to withdraw our energies from striving to dominate the material world and to invest that energy in the contemplation of Hashem's reign over the natural world.
(2) Hodaah (giving thanks) and zemirah (singing praise) are two vehicles of achieving the recognition that is central in this perek; David refers to Hashem as "the Exalted One" to emphasize His transcendent supervision of the physical universe.
(3) "your chesed (kindness)" refers to the totality of the Creator's beneficence in nature, as it is stated: "the world was built with chesed" (Tehilim 89:3), and "your  emunah (faithfulness)" refers to the reliability of Hashem's hashgachah klalis (laws of nature); David describes himself as engaging in this praise "morning" and "night" to emphasize the infinite depth and breadth of Hashem's chesed and emunah in the universe, saying that in order to express his recognition, he would have to be involved in praise all day and all night.
(4) Who knows what the significance of the "ten-string instrument," "lyre," and "harp" are? Who even knows what these instruments were? As far as I'm concerned, trying to explain these details would be pure speculation, and the answer isn't going to have any bearing on the main idea anyway. 
(5) David is pointing out yet another benefit of contemplating Hashem's works: not only does this answer the question of how the wicked can flourish, but it is also an enjoyable activity in and of itself!
(6) and (7) we explained in our summary of the main idea.
(8) "it is to destroy them forever and ever" implies that there are two types of destruction that the wicked will suffer: the natural consequences of their lifestyle in Olam ha'Zeh, and the consequences to their soul in Olam ha'Ba.
(9) see my comments on (2).
(11) and (12) contain David's testimony about how he has seen the truth of this perek play out in his own lifetime; in addition to encouraging the reader to check out this claim by examining the events of David's life, this also provides an important piece of advice, namely, that a person should look for evidence of this in his own observations of the wicked and the righteous.
(13) In addition to the general idea that the righteous will succeed, I believe that the "flourishing plants" metaphor also suggests that the righteous person's success goes hand in hand with his development as a tzelem Elokim; plants are a perfect mashal for this, since we associate plants with natural growth and development. 
(14) It is unclear to me whether "house of Hashem" and "courtyards of Hashem" are references to the Beis ha'Mikdash (the Sanctuary) - and, by extension, Batei Kenesiyos (synagogues) and Batei Midrashos (study halls) - or whether they are a reference to the universe as a whole. [3] Either way, the idea is that by aligning oneself with the lawfulness which governs the human realm and seeking to comprehend the lawfulness in nature, a person will, in effect, be "planted" (i.e. permanently established in a manner which provides sustenance and continued growth) as a component part of the system of the universe - in contrast to the wicked, who seek to detach themselves from the system in a futile attempt to dominate it. 
(15) The lifestyle of the righteous as portrayed here will result in a prolonged and enhanced old age, in which the person's tzelem Elokim and righteous actions will continue to bear fruit - as I wrote about in my article On Aging: With (and Without) Torah.
(16) In a very "ecosystem-esque" manner, the righteous who live in this manner will, through their words and their actions, pass on their worldview to the next generation of mankind, thereby moving others to recognize the benefits of praising the Creator.
This is a good example of the level at which I like to answer Question #2. My goal is to be able to read the perek and see how most of the words and phrases contribute to or reflect the main idea. I'm not trying to get everything.

Question #3: Is this perek true, in whole or in part?

Personally, this perek didn't raise any questions of veracity to me. However, if I taught this in school, I would have to be prepared to demonstrate the truth of the following three claims:
  1. that nature exhibits profound wisdom and perfection
  2. that the success of the wicked is only temporary, and is destined to end in destruction
  3. that tzadikim will flourish and enjoy a long life 

Originally I was going to write out how I would go about doing that, but I think this would take us beyond the scale of this blog post. Suffice it to say: watch nature documentaries for #1, and learn Mishlei, for #2 and #3.

Question #4: What of it?

What function does this serve in our avodas Hashem? I think the answer is clear from the perek: whenever we see the wicked flourishing and we feel troubled, we need look no further than the natural world around us. The more we recognize the absolute justice and benevolent functionality of nature, the more we can rest assured that the wicked will get what they deserve, no matter how successful they appear at the present. 

Similarly, if we are in doubt as to whether following the laws of the Torah will result in the best life for ourselves and for society as a whole, all we have to do is contemplate any ecosystem in nature. Each organism is cared for by Hashem's hashgachah klalis, and everything exists in peace and harmony. The same is within the reach of human beings, if only we align ourselves with the will of our Creator.

Concluding Thoughts

I hope this walk-through of Tehilim 92 has been beneficial in its own right, and in familiarizing you with our method of learning Tehilim. I plan on writing a post on Tehilim 23 in the near future, and possibly more later on in the summer. I'd love to hear your feedback! 

[1] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Tehilim 92:7
[2] Note that this is specifically an answer to the question of why the wicked flourish, in a general sense, but this is NOT an answer to the specific problem of tzadik v'ra lo (how can bad things happen to a righteous person) which is addressed in Sefer Iyov.
[3] see, for example the Rambam's explanation of Hashem's praise of Moshe as "the most trustworthy in My house" (Bamidbar 12:7) in the Moreh ha'Nevuchim 1:54.

Monday, June 11, 2018

How to Learn Tehilim (Psalms)

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Artwork: Urza's Tome, by Aaron Miller


How to Learn Tehilim (Psalms)

Introduction/Disclaimer

There are books of Tanach (the Bible) with which I am familiar. I know how to learn and teach Sefer Mishlei (The Book of Proverbs). I've had ample experience learning and teaching Sefer Koheles (The Book of Ecclesiastes) and Sefer Iyov (The Book of Job). I have attained a measure of proficiency in parts of Chumash (the Five Books of Moses).

The purpose of this disclaimer is to make it clear that I do NOT claim any expertise in Sefer Tehilim (The Book of Psalms).

Tehilim is the longest book in Tanach. It contains over 2,500 pesukim (verses) in 150 perakim (chapters). Of those 150 perakim, I have only learned a handful in depth. Unlike Mishlei, which I've learned on a weekly basis for the past 17 years, I've only occasionally dabbled in Tehilim. Unlike books such as Koheles, Iyov, and Bereishis (Genesis), which I've taught annually for 5-7 years, I've only really taught Tehilim for one semester. 

So how am I qualified to write a post entitled "How to Learn Tehilim"? Because even though I'm not an expert, and even though I don't necessarily know what I'm doing, I do have an approach

My goal in this post is to provide a basic foundation for someone who wishes to begin learning Tehilim. I will present all of tools, strategies, and tips that I, myself, have used in my own learning and teaching of Tehilim. In the next couple of posts I will walk you through two perakim using these methods. 

What Tehilim is About

Tehilim is about Hashem and His relationship with His creation, including - and especially - His relationship with man.

By "man" I mean human beings in general, Bnei Yisrael (the Jewish People) in particular, and the yachid (individual) as well - whether David ha'Melech (King David) in specific, or those who aspire to follow in David's path.

By "relationship between God and His creation" I am referring to both hashgachah pratis (individual divine providence) and hashgachah klalis (the laws of nature). By "His relationship with man" I am referring to how He relates to man, and how man ought to relate to Him - in his thoughts, his emotions, and his actions.

How Tehilim Works

But when I say that Tehilim is "about" God's relationship to His creation etc., I do not mean that it should be treated as a textbook of philosophy, metaphysics, or science. Although Tehilim does contain deep concepts and profound insights about Hashem and His ways, the purpose of the sefer is not merely to convey knowledge to the mind, but to affect the emotions as well. This, in turn, will change the way a person experiences and lives his life, and will ultimately change the manner in which Hashem relates to him. 

I wrote another post entitled How to Say Tehilim for the Sick Without Violating Halacha, in which I cited the Sefer ha'Chinuch's [1] explanation of how the recitation of Tehilim can protect a person from harm. His view reflects the approach described above:
... these psalms contain words that inspire the soul that knows them to shelter in Hashem, to take security in Him, to establish a reverent fear of Him firmly in his heart, and to rely on His kindness and goodness; as a result of this inspiration, he will be protected from every harm, without a doubt. 
The phrase "inspires the soul that knows them" perfectly encapsulates how Tehilim is supposed to work. But isn't just any inspiration, but "this inspiration" - the inspiration of "the soul that knows [the meaning of the psalms]." Inspiration divorced from knowledge is insufficient, and knowledge devoid of inspiration also falls short of the mark. The goal of Tehilim is to inspire the soul by means of knowledge, which will strengthen our relationship with Hashem, and bring us under the purview of His providence.

Practically speaking, this means that it is not enough for a person to stop learning after reaching the point where he can say "I understand what this perek (chapter) of Tehilim is teaching." One must go further than that and ask: "How is this supposed to affect me?" "How is this intended to alter my view of reality?" "How can I make these ideas real to my mind and my emotions?"

In this sense, learning Tehilim is less like the study of Gemara or mathematics, and is more like psychotherapy, in which one seeks knowledge that has an impact on the entire psyche, rather than purely theoretical knowledge whose effect is confined to the intellect alone.

The Three Modes of Tehilim

According to the traditional meforshim (commentators), it would seem that there are three possible "modes" (or "interpretive frameworks") for every perek of Tehilim:
  1. Biographical: some chapters of Tehilim were written at specific points in David's life, and reflect his thoughts and prayers at these times, such as Chapter 34 ("By David, When he disguised his sanity before Avimelech, who drove him out and he left"), Chapter 51 ("For the conductor, a song by David, when Noson the Prophet came to him, when he came to Bas-sheva"), and Chapter 56 ("For the conductor ... by David, a michtam, when the Philistines seized him in Gath")
  2. National: other chapters are about the nation of Israel as a whole - in the past, the present or the future - such as Chapter 78 (which summarizes Bnei Yisrael's journey from Egypt through the Wilderness and into Israel), Chapter 114 ("When Israel went out of Egypt, Jacob's household from a people of foreign tongue"), and Chapter 137 ("By the rivers of Bavel, there we sat and also wept when we remembered Tzion").
  3. Universal: other chapters deal with universal topics, without reference to specific people, times, or events, such as Chapter 1 (about the persona of the tzadik), Chapter 119 (about the Torah and its practitioners), and Chapter 150 (about praising God with music). 
The aforementioned examples fall squarely into one of these three modes. The tricky thing about Tehilim is how ambiguous most of the other perakim are. In the majority of cases, the meforshim debate which mode a given perek is in, and it will not always be clear how the meforshim arrived at their conclusions. Some will insist that a perek is about Klal Yisrael (the Jewish People) at the Messianic era, even though it contains no mention of the nation and is written from the perspective of an individual. Others will say that a perek which appears to be universal is really about David at a particular time in his life. There are certain meforshim (e.g. Radak, Meiri, Rashi) who will even interpret a perek in multiple modes, giving a dual or triple commentary on each pasuk

Since it is unclear which mode most perakim are in, the important thing is to take a firm stance and follow through with it in your analysis. If you're going to treat the perek as being about David, do so for the entire thing; if it's about Klal Yisrael, then it's entirely about Klal Yisrael. And if you're going to use meforshim, make sure you identify which mode they're learning in, since not all of them make this clear.

Personally, I prefer to default to the universal mode, unless I'm forced into one of the other two. I find the universal mode to be the most accessible, since it allows me to learn ideas from the pesukim and apply them directly to my life. The perakim in the biographical or national modes are more difficult, since they often necessitate the circuitous route of researching those episodes in David's life or in the life of the nation, then analyzing the pesukim in light of that background information, and only afterwards applying those insights to one's own life.

I also prefer the universal mode as a default because I believe that it is the ultimate goal of the other two modes. In other words, even if a perek is written from the perspective of David at a specific juncture in his life, or even if it's written about the condition of the Jewish People in the future, the goal of learning these ideas should be to arrive at universal truths which apply to every Jew in every generation.

How to Learn Tehilim 

My methodology for learning Tehilim is based on a technique taken straight out of Mortimer J. Adler's How to Read a Book. [2] He refers to it as "The Four Basic Questions a Reader Asks." Here is the technique in his words:
The Four Basic Questions a Reader Asks 
(1) What is the book about as a whole? You must try to discover the leading theme of the book, and how the author develops this theme in an orderly way by subdividing it into its essential subordinate themes or topics.

(2) What is being said in detail and how? You must try to discover the main ideas, assertions, and arguments that constitute the author’s particular message.

(3) Is the book true, in whole or part? You cannot answer this question until you have answered the first two. You have to know what is being said before you can decide whether it is true or not. When you understand a book, however, you are obligated, if you are reading seriously, to make up your own mind. Knowing the author’s mind is not enough.

(4) What of it? If the book has given you information, you must ask about its significance. Why does the author think it is important to know about these things? Is it important to you to know them? And if the book has not only informed you, but also enlightened you, it is necessary to seek further enlightenment by asking what else follows, what is further implied or suggested. 
Here is my adaptation Adler's "The Four Questions a Reader Asks" to Sefer Tehilim:
The Four Basic Questions to Ask When Learning Tehilim 
(1) What is the perek about as a whole? You must try to discover the main idea of the perek. What major insight is this teaching us about Hashem, about man, or about the relationship between them? I say "main idea" rather than "main theme" because a "theme" can be stated in a word or a phrase, whereas your goal in this is step should be to clearly articulate the main idea in 1-4 complete sentences. 
(2) What is being said in detail and how? You must try to understand what each pasuk is saying and how it contributes to or develops the main idea. This is not an all or nothing deal. The more complete your understanding, the better, but if there are specific words, phrases, or even entire pesukim that you don't understand, then it doesn't mean your answer to Question #1 is invalid - unless, of course, these pesukim contradict or undermine your main idea.
(3) Is the perek true, in whole or in part? Even though we accept Tehilim as true insofar as it is part of Torah she'bi'Chsav (the Written Torah), this doesn't mean that we will automatically be convinced that what David says is actually true. As Adler would say: "Knowing David's mind is not enough. You must make up your own mind." 
(4) What of it? What "inspiration via knowledge" is this perek written to bring about? How is the main idea in this perek supposed to affect your life, your view of reality, and your relationship with God? What else follows - what is further implied or suggested by the insights? What else can you do to internalize and be moved by these ideas? 
I feel obliged to point out a rookie mistake: starting with Question #2. All of my first attempts at learning Tehilim failed because I got bogged down in the particulars. I thought it made sense to approach Tehilim using the same method I use to approach Mishlei. I started by raising ALL of the questions and difficulties on ALL of the pesukim, and then I turned to the meforshim for answers. Since I had so many questions, I would feel obligated to read the entire commentary of multiple meforshim, for fear of missing out on an important detail. Typically this would result in me being overwhelmed by the sheer number of questions and problems, which would be compounded by reading the meforshim. The web of complexity would be too difficult to navigate, and I'd give up. 

Eventually I tried going to the opposite extreme: ignoring all of the particulars and attempting to grasp the whole - and it worked! I found that starting with Question #1 would naturally lead to a sort of back-and-forth "dance" between Questions #1 and 2: I'd come up with an approach for the main idea, and then I'd "test" it by seeing how this idea was developed through each of the pesukim. Whenever I'd encounter a question or a difficulty, then I would turn to the meforshim for assistance. This "macro" approach was far more manageable, and guided my "micro" analysis of the individual pesukim

I would even go so far as to recommend intentionally not attempting to do a comprehensive job in answering Question #2. Focus on Questions #1 and 4, and only address Questions #2 and 3 as your analysis and interest dictate. As long as you walk away with a clear grasp of the main idea and the intended purpose of the perek, then your learning of Tehilim was a success, even if you haven't explained every pasuk or verified every idea.

And it's as simple as that! Just work on these questions one at a time, putting the most emphasis on Question #1, and Tehilim will soon become more approachable than ever before. But there is one more critical tool you'll want to add to your Tehilim-learning arsenal before you get started.

The Pivot Point 

Over a decade ago, when my chavrusa (learning partner) and I first started trying to learn Tehilim, we observed a common structural phenomenon that appeared throughout the sefer. We noticed that in many cases, the perek of Tehilim will be moving along with a discernible thematic, structural, or stylistic flow, and then suddenly - seemingly out of nowhere - there will be a dramatic shift to a different theme, structure, or style. My chavrusa dubbed this "The Pivot Point." 

The best way to illustrate this is to point out some clear examples. As you read through each example, see if you can spot the pivot point before reading my answer:
Tehilim 92 
(1) A psalm, a song for the Sabbath day. (2) It is good to thank Hashem and to sing to Your Name, O Exalted One; (3) to recount Your kindness in the morning, and Your faithfulness in the nights. (4) Upon a ten-stringed instrument and upon lyre, with singing [accompanied] by harp. (5) For You have gladdened me, Hashem, with Your actions; about Your handiwork I will sing joyously. (6) How great are Your works, Hashem; [how] very deep are Your thoughts - (7) a boorish man doesn’t know, and a fool doesn’t understand this - (8) when the wicked bloom like grass, and all the doers of iniquity blossom, it is to destroy them forever and ever. (9) But You [remain] exalted forever, Hashem. (10) For behold Your enemies, Hashem, for behold – Your enemies shall perish; dispersed shall be all doers of iniquity. (11) You raised like a re’eim my pride; I was saturated with fresh oil. (12) My eyes have seen my foes; when those who would harm me rise up my ears have heard. (13) A righteous person will flourish like a date palm, and like a cedar in the Lebanon he will grow tall. (14) Planted in the house of Hashem, in the courtyards of our God they will flourish. (15) They will still be fruitful in old age, vigorous and fresh they will be, (16) to tell that Hashem is upright, my Rock in Whom there is no injustice.
Did you see it? It's verse 7. The first half of the perek, up until verse 7, is about David praising the handiwork of Hashem (i.e. the laws of nature). The second half of the perek after 7 is about the destruction of the wicked and the flourishing of the righteous. 

Indeed, verse 7 itself can be read in accordance with either half. If read with the first half, David is saying: "a boorish or foolish man cannot understand the greatness of Hashem's works and the depth of His thoughts as reflected in nature." If read with the second half, David is saying: "a boorish or foolish man cannot understand that although the wicked may bloom and the doers of iniquity may blossom, they will ultimately be destroyed." 

I believe that verse 7 was deliberately written to be ambiguous (which is why I tried as best as I could to retain the ambiguity in my English translation, through my use of poor punctuation). Verse 7 can be read as part of either half of the perek, but no matter how you read it, it is clearly the pivot point - and I believe that this is the key understanding the main idea of the perek (as I will write about in the sequel to this post).

Here's another straightforward example:
Tehilim 19 
(1) For the Conductor, a psalm of David. (2) The heavens declare the glory of God, and His handiwork is declared by the firmament. (3) Day following day expresses speech, and night following night speaks knowledge. (4) There is no speaker and there are no words; their voice is unheard. (5) Throughout the earth their measuring-line goes forth, and their words reach the ends of society. For the sun He set up a tent, in their midst. (6) And it (i.e. the sun) is like a groom coming forth from his wedding canopy, rejoicing like a warrior to run the course. (7) The ends of the heavens is its source, and its circuit is to their other end, and nothing is hidden from its heat. (8) The Torah of Hashem is perfect, restoring the soul; the testimony of Hashem is trustworthy, making wise the simpleton. (9) The ordinances of Hashem are upright, causing the heart to rejoice; the commandment of Hashem is clear, illuminating the eyes. (10) Fear of Hashem is pure, enduring forever; the judgments of Hashem are true, and are universally righteous. (11) They are more desirable than gold, than even much fine gold, and they are sweeter than honey, and the drippings of honeycombs. (12) At first Your servant was warned by them, [but] when he kept them, there was reward. (13) Errors –who can discern them? Cleanse me from hidden [faults]. (14) Also from wanton ones keep back Your servant, so they do not rule over me then when I am weak; [then] I will keep myself clean from great transgression. (15) May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart find favor before You, Hashem, my Rock, and my Redeemer.
The pivot point should be obvious: it's at the end of verse 7 and the beginning of verse 8. The first half of the perek (1-7) is about the perfection and precision of the heavens in their obedience of God's will, with a focus on the individual entity of the sun; the second half of the perek (8-15) is about the perfection of the Torah, with a focus on the individual person of David, who beseeches Hashem to help him to fulfill His will with complete obedience in his actions, his speech, and the thoughts of his heart.

Here's another example, which is slightly less obvious than the other two:
Tehilim 23 
(1) A psalm by David. Hashem is my Shepherd; I shall not lack. (2) In lush meadows he lays me down, beside tranquil waters He leads me. (3) He restores my soul. He leads me on level paths for His Name's sake. (4) Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no harm, for You are with me. Your rod and Your staff - they comfort me. (5) You will prepare a table before me in view of my tormentors. You anointed my head with oil, my cup overflows. (6) Only goodness and kindness will pursue me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the House of Hashem for long days.
Did you catch it? It's at the end of verse 4 and the beginning of verse 5. In the first four verses of the psalm, David is a sheep; after verse 4, he's a human. 

In the three examples mentioned above, the perek is divided neatly in half. However, there are other types of pivot points as well. See if you can figure out this one:
Tehilim 136 
(1) Give thanks to Hashem for He is good, for His kindness endures forever.(2) Give thanks to the God of the heavenly powers, for His kindness endures forever.(3) Give thanks to the Lord of the lords, for His kindness endures forever.(4) To Him Who alone performs great wonders, for His kindness endures forever.(5) To Him Who makes the heavens with understanding, for His kindness endures forever.(6) To Him Who spread out the earth upon the waters, for His kindness endures forever.(7) To Him who makes great lights, for His kindness endures forever.(8) The sun for the reign of the day, for His kindness endures forever.(9) The moon and the stars for the reign of the night, for His kindness endures forever.(10) To Him Who smote Mitzrayim through their firstborn, for His kindness endures forever.(11) And brought Israel forth from their midst, for His kindness endures forever.(12) With strong hand and outstretched arm, for His kindness endures forever.(13) To Him Who divided the Sea of Reeds into parts, for His kindness endures forever.(14) And caused Israel to pass through it, for His kindness endures forever.(15) And threw Paroh and his army into the Sea of Reeds, for His kindness endures forever.(16) To Him Who led His people through the wilderness, for His kindness endures forever.(17) To Him Who smote great kings, for His kindness endures forever.(18) And slew mighty kings, for His kindness endures forever.(19) Sichon, king of the Emorites, for His kindness endures forever.(20) And Og, king of Bashan, for His kindness endures forever.(21) And presented their land as a heritage, for His kindness endures forever.(22) A heritage for Israel, His servant, for His kindness endures forever.(23) In our lowliness He remembered us, for His kindness endures forever.(24) And released us from our tormentors, for His kindness endures forever.(25) He gives nourishment to all flesh, for His kindness endures forever.(26) Give thanks to God of the heavens, for His kindness endures forever.
Did you see what he did? That's right: this perek involves a double-pivot! Verses 1-9 are about Hashem's kindnesses in nature. In verses 10-24 David pivots to Hashem's kindnesses to the Jewish people. But at the very end, in verses 25-26, he pivots back to the original theme of Hashem's kindnesses in nature. 

And here's a short one:
Tehilim 134 
(1) A song of ascents. Behold, bless Hashem, all you servants of Hashem, who stand in the House of Hashem in the nights. (2) Lift your hands in the Sanctuary and bless Hashem. (3) May Hashem bless you from Tzion, Maker of heaven and earth.
This pivot point is at the end of verse 2, and hinges on the switch from the imperative to the subjunctive mood. In verses 1-2 the author is commanding the servants of Hashem to bless Him; in verse 3 he is expressing his hope that Hashem will bless them in return.

Sometimes you'll run into a perek where the pivot point is debatable. Take another look at Tehilim 19 above. The most obvious pivot point is between verses 7 and 8, with the first half of the perek being about the heavenly bodies following the perfect laws of nature and the second half of the perek being about human beings striving to follow the perfect laws of Torah. However, it can be argued that the pivot point is between verses 11 and 12, with the first half of the perek (1-11) being about the perfection of Hashem's creations (i.e. the universe and the Torah), and the second half of the perek (12-15) being about the imperfect human being struggling to use his free will to align himself with God's will. Depending on where you place the pivot point, you might arrive at a different understanding of what the perek is about. 

Similarly, one of my students was convinced that the pivot point in Tehilim 23 was between verses 3 and 4. In verses 1-3 David refers to Hashem in the third person voice, but in verses 4-6 he refers to Hashem in the second person, implying an increased sense of closeness. We had a lively debate about this in class, which led to some nice insights. 

The next question is: How do we incorporate the notion of a pivot point into our methodology? The answer involves a four step process:
Step #1: Identify the pivot point. 
Step #2: Define the main idea of each "half" of the perek on its own, without thinking about the other half. Treat the two halves almost as if they are two separate chapters.
Step #3: Attempt to unify the two halves. Figure out the main idea which encompasses both. Abstract a major theme from the sub-themes and formulate the main idea.
Step #4: Ask yourself: "What purpose does this pivot point serve? How is it necessary for the main idea or for the intended purpose of the perek? Why couldn't David have just written a perek about this idea without the pivot?" Sometimes the purpose of the pivot lies in the shift of intellectual frameworks or premises. Sometimes there is a reason for the shift in mood or tone. Sometimes it's even a simple dichotomy like "before/after," "distress/salvation," "metaphor/lesson" - but even in these obvious cases, it pays to ask why the pivot point was needed in the first place.
You might wondering: "Do ALL 150 chapters of Tehilim have a pivot point?" This is where I will (conveniently) plead lack of expertise. Like I said, I haven't been through all 150 chapters. There are even some chapters I read on a daily or weekly basis, and still can't figure out whether I've identified the pivot point, or whether I'm just imagining it. For all I know, it could be that 100% of Tehilim contains pivot points, or maybe 10%, or somewhere in between.

All I can say is this: the search for the pivot point will be beneficial for your analysis in any event. Either you'll find a clear pivot point, which will help you in answering Question #1 (since defining each half and then defining the unity is easier than just trying to define the unity straightaway), or you'll find several candidates for pivot points, which will also help you in answering Question #1 (since you'll have several possible approaches based on where the pivot point is), or you won't find any pivot point, but you'll have already scrutinized the entire perek multiple times looking for unity, which will help you in answering Question #1. However it turns out, the quest for the pivot point will help you!

Other Tips

I have a few more assorted tips and decided to just list them all at the end:
When answering Question #1, begin by using an English translation if English is the language you think in - even if you know Hebrew. When analyzing the intricacies of the text there is no substitute for the original Hebrew, but when trying to get an initial birds-eye impression, I find that it's much more productive to think about the perek in the language that is most natural to your mind. After you have an approach to the main idea, and you start working on Question #2, you can delve into the Hebrew with the meforshim and sort out any translation issues.
Look for literary devices and structural anomalies. Sefer Tehilim is rife with examples of literary devices, such as parallelism, allusion, repetition, chiastic structures, and more, so be on the lookout for them. Although I have yet to find any instance in which these literary devices are essential to the main idea, I have noticed that they are helpful in answering Question #2. 
Think about it on your own first - then consult meforshim as needed. I cannot stress this point enough. If you start your analysis by jumping right into the meforshim, you will quickly become overwhelmed by the questions, problems, and answers they raise. Instead, only look into the meforshim to answer specific questions that naturally occur to you. And if this inquiry leads you to do further research, that's fine. Just don't feel obligated to do a complete survey of what the meforshim say on every pasuk.
Learn with your mind, but read with your emotions. Since Tehilim is designed to convey knowledge and inspire the emotions, it is important to allow yourself to feel what David is trying to make you feel. For example, in Chapter 23, when he describes himself as a lamb being guided through lush meadows and tranquil waters by a benevolent and protective Shepherd, use your imagination evoke those feelings from your own experience being guided by a caring and trustworthy figure. And when he describes Hashem as setting up a table for him in front of his tormentors, bring to mind your own tormentors and contemplate how you would feel if you were face to face with them, sitting at a table set with a feast, drinking wine and being anointed with oil. And if what David says doesn't resonate with your own emotions and experiences, then this is something to think about.  
Concluding Thoughts

I hope that I have succeeded in providing you with enough of a Tehilim methodology to begin learning on your own. I would like to reiterate that I am NOT an expert in Tehilim, and I am still trying to unlock the sefer for myself. My views on Tehilim methodology will continue to evolve, and when that evolution reaches a point where an update of this post is warranted, then I will update it.

In the meantime, let me know if you have any other insights or tips on how to learn Tehilim - and let me know if the guidelines provided here prove to be fruitful.

And stay tuned for my next two posts in this series, where I apply this methodology to Tehilim 92 and Tehilim 23. 

[1] Sefer ha'Chinuch: Mitzvah #512
[2] Mortimer J. Adler, How to Read a Book (1976 edition), pp.46-47

Friday, June 12, 2015

Parashas Shelach: Shabbos, Avodah Zarah, and Skilah

I hope this will be the first of my regular "divrei Torah" blog posts for the Summer 2015 blogging season. Enjoy!

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Image Courtesy of The Brick Testament

Parashas Shelach: Shabbos, Avodah Zarah, and Skilah

In the penultimate section of this week's parashah we find the incident of the Mekoshesh Eitzim ("the gatherer of wood," as the phrase is conventionally translated). Here is the short story in its entirety:
The Children of Israel were in the Wilderness and they found a man gathering wood on the Sabbath day. Those who found him gathering wood brought him to Moshe and Aharon, and to the entire assembly. They placed him in custody, for it had not been clarified what should be done to him.
Hashem said to Moshe: "This man shall be put to death; the entire assembly shall pelt him with stones outside of the camp."
The entire assembly removed him to the outside of the camp; they pelted him with stones and he died, as Hashem had commanded Moshe (Bamidbar 15:32-36).
Perhaps the most basic question we can ask is: What are we supposed to learn from this story? 

One thing is for certain: the story is here to teach us the penalty for Shabbos desecration. According to Sifrei (Shelach 57), Bnei Yisrael knew that Shabbos desecration was liable for the death penalty, but they didn't know which of the four death penalties to administer: skilah (stoning), sreifah (burning), hereg (decapitation), or chenek (strangulation). Indeed, according to the pshat (straightforward meaning) of the pesukim, there there wouldn't have been much - if any - need for the Torah to report this incident had Moshe Rabbeinu and Bnei Yisrael known which death penalty to administer. 

This raises a difficulty: Why didn't Hashem inform Moshe and Bnei Yisrael of the precise specific penalty for Shabbos desecration? They had already been told, "Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day is an ultimate, holy cessation [from melachah]; whoever does melachah shall surely be put to death" (Shemos 31:15). Why wasn't the particular death penalty taught at the same time? What could possibly be gained by delaying the release of this critical information?

The Baalei Tosafos (bottom of Bava Basra 119a) provide some much needed insight into this matter. They explain that according to Torah she'baal Peh (the Oral Torah), any time Torah she'bi'Chsav (the Written Torah) uses the generic phrase "he shall surely be put to death" (mos yumas), we are to interpret this as referring to chenek (death by strangulation). Why, then, was Moshe even in doubt? He should have ruled that the mekoshesh eitzim should be put to death by chenek, and there would be no need to ask Hashem for clarification.

The Baalei Tosafos answer as follows:
Moshe theorized that [the mekoshesh eitzim] should receive the ruling of skilah (death by stoning), like an oveid avodah zarah (worshiper of idolatry), for in all places we find that the mitzvah of [keeping] Shabbos is compared to [the mitzvah of refraining from] avodah zarah - that is, the one who publicly desecrates Shabbos is equated to the one who worships avodah zarah.
They are referring to the halachic principle codified by the Rambam in Hilchos Shabbos 30:15:
Shabbos and avodah zarah – each of them is equal in weight to all of the other mitzvos of the Torah. Shabbos is the eternal sign between Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu and us. Therefore, if a person transgresses any of the other mitzvos, he is included among the wicked Israelites – but one who publicly desecrates Shabbos is considered to be like an oveid avodah zarah, and both of them are treated like non-Jews in all matters.
As we see from the conclusion of the mekoshesh story, Moshe's theory was correct: the violation of Shabbos is not liable for the least-severe death penalty of chenek, as it would seem from the initial presentation of the halachos in Torah she'bi'Chsav and Torah she'baal Peh. Instead, Shabbos desecration is liable for skilah - the most severe punishment of them all - due to the relationship between avodah zarah and the public desecration of Shabbos.

In light of this Tosafos, perhaps we can resolve our difficulty. Why didn't Hashem inform Moshe and Bnei Yisrael of the precise specific penalty for Shabbos desecration? Apparently, because it was necessary for Moshe to arrive at this conclusion on his own based on the relationship between Shabbos and avodah zarah. And since it was necessary for Moshe to confirm his theory by consulting Hashem, thereby putting the death sentence of the desecrator on hold, the whole incident of the mekoshesh took on the character of a "breaking news story" and garnered a tremendous amount of publicity. Not only was this the first time anyone had violated Shabbos, but the entire nation was forced to wait with bated breath for the fate of the transgressor to be decreed by the Almighty, Himself. And when that ruling was finally handed down, Moshe Rabbeinu (with an emphasis on "Rabbeinu") almost certainly used this as an opportunity to draw attention to the connection between Shabbos and avodah zarah.

Thus, not only did this divinely orchestrated publicity stunt underscore the severity of Shabbos desecration in the eyes of the entire nation, but it also brought awareness to the important principle that Shabbos-desecration and avodah zarah are conceptually linked, and are equal in their severity.

In case you don't buy this theory, it just so happens that another Rishon (early medieval authority) arrived at the same conclusion - albeit through an entirely different route. I am speaking of the Ralbag, who also learns that the story of the mekoshesh eitzim was placed in our parashah to highlight the connection between Shabbos and avodah zarah.

The Ralbag arrives at his conclusion not from an analysis of the event itself, but from the placement of this story within the parashah. The topic which appears right before the story of the mekoshesh is - you guessed it - avodah zarah! In these preceding pesukim the Torah presents the laws of korbanos (sacrifices) to atone for unintentional public avodah zarah and for individual worship of avodah zarah. The pesukim immediately before the story of the mekoshesh teach the penalty for intentional worship of avodah zarah:
A person who shall act high-handedly, whether native or proselyte, he blasphemed Hashem - that person shall be cut off from among his people, for he scorned the word of Hashem and broke His commandment; that person will surely be cut off, his sin is upon him (ibid. 15:30-31)
The Ralbag (commentary on Bamidbar 15:32) provides the following explanation of this juxtaposition:
It seems as though [the topic] of Shabbos desecration was juxtaposed to the topic of avodah zarah on account of the similarity between them. One who desecrates Shabbos is, in a certain sense, denying the entire Torah, for the root upon which the Torah is built is conviction in the creation of the universe, for this [conviction] establishes two major premises for us: (1) that Hashem Exists, and (2) that He brought the universe into being. When we believe this, this will bring us to believe in what the Torah has commanded. The mitzvah of Shabbos comes to teach us regarding these two fundamental principles.
According to the Ralbag, the observance of Shabbos serves as a public affirmation of Hashem's Existence and His creation of the universe. Thus, the intentional desecration of Shabbos is tantamount to a renunciation of these principles - and all the more so when this desecration takes place in public. 

I think this also addresses a point which I have heard expressed from time to time. People sometimes feel that it is WAY too harsh to administer the death penalty for the violation of Shabbos. "Really? Picking up sticks on Saturday is punishable by death?! That's crazy!" The Ralbag's explanation reminds us that unlike other capital offenses, for which the action itself is inherently harmful, the desecration of Shabbos is destructive because of what it represents. Just as (lehavdil) someone who burns the American flag is making a political/philosophical statement against the foundational principles of the entire nation, so too, a person who intentionally violates Shabbos is effectively denouncing the fundamental principles upon which the Torah is based. 

There is a lot more to write about the connection between Shabbos and avodah zarah, but that shall have to wait until another time, in another blog post. For now, let us content ourselves with the lessons learned from the story of the mekoshesh eitzim, and be thankful that his death was not in vain.