Parashas Masei: Leviim as Role Models of Tolerance

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

Artwork: Answered Prayers, by Seb McKinnon

Parashas Masei: Leviim as Role Models of Tolerance

The United States of America in the year 2019 is a curious place. For all of its "progressive" emphasis on compassion, inclusivity, and acceptance of intentional lifestyle choices, it is shockingly intolerant and unforgiving when it comes to unintentional offenses.

This category of "offenses" is not limited to criminal infractions, but includes any speech or behavior which inadvertently results in emotional pain or personal offense to others. Even the innocent act of expressing an unpopular opinion may be labeled an "attack" or an "act of aggression" by those who feel "victimized" by hearing sentiments with which they disagree.

There is a growing list of public figures - actors, comedians, artists, authors, politicians, celebrities - who have been guilty of such missteps and have been called out for their "crimes." As a result, these people are publicly shamed, boycotted, blacklisted, canceled, and subjected to verbal abuse or even physical threats, usually over social media. In many cases, even when they apologize and express genuine regret, they are not absolved or forgiven by the public. Instead, their transgressions are considered unpardonable and the perpetrators irredeemable. 

There is a mitzvah in this week's parashah which may shed some light on the Torah's view of this phenomenon. Upon entering the Land of Israel, Bnei Yisrael were commanded to establish 48 cities. These cities serve two functions: (1) all 48 cities are to be the residence of the Leviim (Levites), who do not own any other portion in the Land, and (2) six of these are to be designated as cities of refuge for unintentional murderers to flee from the goel ha'dam (blood avenger) where they will remain protected until their release upon the death of the Kohen Gadol.

The Sefer ha'Chinuch refers to this as "the mitzvah upon Israel to provide cities to the Leviim to dwell therein" (Mitzvah #408). In his explanation of "the root of the mitzvah" (i.e. the benefits or objectives of the mitzvah), he addresses the fact that these cities were to be inhabited by two very different groups of people. The distinguished scholar-class of the Leviim are to live side by side with the criminal-class of the unintentional murderers. The Torah could have set up the cities of refuge in the territories of the other tribes. Why send the unintentional murderers to live exclusively with the Leviim?

The Sefer ha'Chinuch provides two answers to this question, the second of which is as follows:

There is another reason for the matter: Since they (i.e. the Leviim) were men of [good] heart, renowned for the eminent worth of their character traits and their noble wisdom, it was evident to all that they would not detest the murderer who took refuge with them, and would not harm him, even if he killed one of their good friends or avenging blood relations (i.e. relatives whose kinship would cause them to avenge the victim's murder), since he killed them suddenly (i.e. unintentionally), without enmity. About this chosen tribe it is stated, "who said of his father and mother, 'I have not seen him'" (Devarim 33:9). In other words, they would do nothing in the world that was not in accordance with the upright path and in line with the truth, and their heart would not be swayed by the love of any person - not even love for a father and mother, brothers and sons, whose love is necessitated and compelled by nature - and all the more certainly not love for any other human beings. I wrote another argument about this subject in the eleventh negative mitzvah in Sidrah Behar.

The Sefer ha'Chinuch's comments in Behar pertain to the mitzvah "not to alter the open land around the cities of the Leviim or their fields" (Mitzvah #342). There he writes:

At the root of this mitzvah lies the reason that the cities of the Leviim were prepared for the needs of all the other tribes. For this was the tribe chosen for avodas Hashem (the service of Hashem), and their entire occupation was with chochmah (wisdom), since they were not burdened with the affairs of agricultural labor like the other tribes of Israel. Of them it was said, "They will teach Yaakov Your ordinances, and Israel Your Torah" (Devarim 33:10). And because of the fact that there was wisdom among them, all the Israelites always had dealings with them, apart from the fact that among their cities were the cities of refuge for an unintentional killer. As a result, the eyes of all Israel were on their cities, "for a man never knows what a day may bring forth" (Mishlei 27:1).

It was therefore only right that those cities, in which all had an equal interest, with which the heart of all was concerned, should have a perfection of beauty and attractiveness. It would be to the praise and advantage of the entire people of Israel. Therefore, the order was given about them that nothing in their arrangement was to be changed. For the Sovereign Ruler of all founded and constructed them and set their boundaries, and He saw that it was good. Then any alteration beyond His words would be nothing but a detraction and a disgrace. 

There are several important lessons to be gleaned from this explanation.

Lesson #1 - Unintentional Murderers Deserve Compassion: By "compassion" I mean that they are to be treated "in accordance with the upright path," like any other Jew or human being, and not "harmed" or even "detested" by their neighbors. Although this level of compassion wouldn't necessarily extend to intentional* murderers, who committed their crimes "with enmity," it should be noted that those who seek refuge in one of these cities are not entirely blameless. If a death came about as a result of a totally freak accident, then the murderer wouldn't be exiled to a city of refuge, since he wouldn't be liable at all. The only murderer who lives in the cities of refuge is one who killed another person as a result of harmful actions on his part which he should have foreseen and prevented. In other words, he is guilty of lethal negligence, and is at fault for the loss of life he caused. Nevertheless, the Torah expects him to be treated in a kind and civil manner, and to not to be stigmatized in any way for his crime. This is true even if he hasn't done teshuvah.

Lesson #2 - The Torah Has High Expectations for Such Compassion: The Sefer ha'Chinuch makes it clear that the Torah expects the inhabitants of the cities of refuge to treat these murderers with this level of compassion no matter what - even if the murder victim was a close friend or relative. This is an exceedingly high level. The Sefer ha'Chinuch even says that one's feelings towards the murderer shouldn't be swayed by the natural love for one's own family. One might think that it would be impossible to achieve this level of personal clemency - and yet, the Torah considers it possible.

Lesson #3 - The Torah Does Not Expect This of All People: Nevertheless, the Torah's expectations are only this high for Leviim, whose lives are devoted to avodas Hashem and chochmah. The Torah does not have such high expectations for average Jews. According to the Sefer ha'Chinuch, this is why there are no cities of refuge in the territories of the other tribes. If there were, the murderers who lived there would be mistreated and resented because of the crimes they committed. Only Leviim can be relied upon to not give in to the natural human inclination to vilify and marginalize those who have committed manslaughter. 

Lesson #4 - The Torah Expects Us to Aspire to This Level: Even though average Jews are not expected to reach the level of the Leviim, we are expected to look up to them as role models. As the Sefer ha'Chinuch stated, "the eyes of all Israel were on their cities," knowing how and with whom the Leviim live, and being inspired by their virtues - including their tolerance and compassion towards the murderers in their midst.

These insights provide a new perspective on the prevalent attitude in America towards public figures who inadvertently cause offense through their words or actions. Bear in mind that we are not talking about terrorists, serial killers, school shooters, rapists, pedophiles, white collar criminals, corrupt politicians, or anyone else who knowingly and intentionally commits wrongful acts. We are talking about those who caused harm or hurt through mistakes - unintentional speech or behavior which could have been seen and prevented, but was not, due to negligence on the part of the perpetrator.

The major take-away from the Sefer ha'Chinuch's explanation of this mitzvah may be stated as follows: If the Torah maintains that a person who mistakenly kills another human being through  negligence deserves compassion and protection from maltreatment, then certainly this would be true of a person who unintentionally caused emotional offense or hurt feelings. 

Does the Torah expect all Jews to be able to rise above the natural tendency to malign the wrongdoers in our midst? No. This is a difficult task and an uphill battle. Yet, the Torah does expect us to recognize "the upright path," and to acknowledge that it is possible for some of us to reach an exceedingly high level of compassion even towards those who committed the worst crime - taking another human life - provided that they didn't intend to cause harm.

Clearly there is a lot more to be discussed on the topic of how we ought to treat and feel about various types of wrongdoers and criminals. The best approach is to learn whatever we can from each Torah law, and strive to incorporate these lessons into the way we live. And even if we can't live up to the lofty ideals conveyed through these mitzvos, we should still take these lessons to heart to the degree that we are able, and continually aspire to better ourselves in accordance with the Torah's value system. 

* There are other mitzvos and other sources in the Torah which enlighten us as to how we should treat and feel about intentional murderers and other reshaim (evildoers). This topic is multifaceted, and is beyond the scope of this blog post. 

Tishah b'Av 5777: Hashem's Tzedakah and Our Shame

Disclaimer: This post is an attempt to explain one of the kinos (lamentations/dirges/elegies) we say on the morning of Tishah b'Av. I do not claim to have any special knowledge or expertise in kinnos. The only experience I have is the analysis I wrote of another kinah two years ago (Tishah b'Av 5775: Woe Unto Us!). In particular, I feel apprehensive that I am reading too much into the kinah. With something like Mishlei or Avos I have a sense of what a "Mishlei idea" or an "Avos idea" looks like, but I don't feel I'm quite there yet with kinos. That being said, take this post with more grains of salt than you do my other posts. 

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

Artwork: Light of Day, by Drew Tucker

Tishah b'Av 5777: Hashem's Tzedakah and Our Shame

Kinah #19

This year, in preparation for Tishah b'Av, I chose to focus on Kinah #19. Below is a translation of the entire thing. As you read through, ask yourself two questions: "What is the main theme or idea of this kinah?" and "How is this designed to facilitate aveilus (mourning) in a manner which leads to national teshuvah?"

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah (righteousness), because of the wondrous signs You have displayed from then until now; and ours is the boshes ha'panim (shamefacedness), because of the trials with which You sought to refine us, [but as a result of our failure] You despised us. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because You have taken [our] nation from amidst another nation, with miracles; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because of the hypocrisy to be found within us as we emulated [Egypt's abominable] deeds. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because God went out to redeem us as a people unto Himself; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because they [our forefathers] rebelled on the shore of the Sea of Reeds, the nation sinning against its God. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, when we recall the proclamation, "You are witnesses, and I am God!"; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because we blasphemed Hashem in [the Wilderness of] Sin [when we demanded of Aharon,] "Arise and create a god for us!" 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because You feed us [the mahn] that tasted like dough fried in honey; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because on the day [we made the Golden Calf], we brought it an offering of fine flour with oil and honey. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because You provided us with the mahn, the well, and the pillar of clouds; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because our forefathers grumbled in their tents about [the mahn and called it] the destructive bread. 

Yours, my Lord, is the righteousness, because in the Wilderness we lacked nothing; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because we defied You at Lavan, Chatzeros, and Di-Zahav as related [by Moshe]. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because of [how You waged war for us with] Sichon and God and all the kings of Canaan; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because of Achan who appropriated for himself from the forbidden loot [of Jericho] and found no excuse [for his crime]. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because of all that You accomplished through the fourteen savior [-Judges]; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because of Michah's idol through which we transgressed. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because You erected [Tabernacles] at Shiloh, Nov, Giv'on, and the Eternal Temple [in Jerusalem]; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because the evil in our midst caused each one's destruction, and in their loss we have been humiliated. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because although the destructions of the two Temples were caused by our corruption, we ourselves were spared; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because we should have returned in teshuvah to You wholeheartedly, so that You would return to us with compassion. 

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because of the [almost] nine centuries throughout which You withheld Your anger [over our sins] and didn't broadcast it; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because [Daniel] the man of delights pleaded with You [to end the Babylonian Exile after a mere seventy years, even though we were not worthy,] saying, "Incline Your ear, O my God, and hear!" (Daniel 9:18).

The theme of this kinah is contained in the refrain: "Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah ... and ours is the boshes ha'panim." This phrase comes from a pasuk in Sefer Daniel. The pasuk appears in the context of Daniel's prayer to Hashem on behalf of the Jews in the Babylonian exile, after the destruction of the first Beis ha'Mikdash (Holy Temple). The full pesukim couplet reads:

"Yours, my Lord, is the righteousness, and ours is the shamefacedness, as of this very day - to the men of Judah and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to all of Israel, those near and those far, in all of the lands to which You have driven them, because of their betrayal with which they have betrayed You. Hashem, to us is the shamefacedness - to our kings, to our officers, and to our forefathers - for we have sinned against You" (Daniel 9:7-8). 

In order to understand the kinah and the impact it was intended to have, we need to make sense of this refrain. [1] Once we figure out the main idea, this will unlock the meaning of the rest of the kinah.

The Questions

There are five major questions here:

(1) What is tzedakah (righteousness)? This term is often thought of in the context of charity, but as we'll see, this isn't really the primary meaning - at least, not as "charity" is commonly understood. 

(2) What does it mean that tzedakah "belongs to Hashem"? Daniel could have simply said something like: "Hashem is the tzadik" (Shemos 9:27), as Paroh said when he acknowledged Hashem's righteousness.  Alternatively, he could have said: "Hashem is a tzadik in all of His ways" (Tehilim 145:17), as David ha'Melech did when he wanted to praise Hashem's righteousness. Why did Daniel choose to speak about tzedakah as though it is something that belongs to Hashem, like a possession? Doesn't righteousness also belong to us - or at least, to the tzadikim (righteous people) among us?  

To those who are inclined to dismiss this question because they don't think the pasuk ought to be this way, see footnote [2].

(3) What is boshes ha'panim (shamefacedness)? In our blog post What is Bushah? we examined several uses of the term "bushah" - some with a positive connotation, and others with a negative one. In this kinah, it is clear that "boshes ha'panim" is a response to the recognition of something bad that Bnei Yisrael did. All of the statements that the paytan (author of the kinah) associated with boshes ha'panim are things that we ought to be ashamed of. But what, exactly, is the nature of this boshes ha'panim?

(4) What does it mean that boshes panim "belongs to us"? Similar to Question #2, why didn't Daniel simply say, "We are ashamed"? Why did he express this by saying that the shamefacedness belongs to us?

(5) What was Daniel's intention in contrasting Hashem's tzedakah with our boshes ha'panim? And, by extension, what was the paytan's intention in structuring his kinah on the basis of this juxtaposition?

We will now answer these questions one at a time, in order.

Answer to Question #1: Definition of Tzedakah

The clearest definition of tzedakah I have seen is stated by the Rambam [3] in the penultimate chapter of the Guide for the Perplexed. He writes:

The word “tzedakah” is derived from tzedek, which means “righteousness” (or “justice” [4]). The meaning of “tzedakah” is to grant to everyone who has a right to something that which he has a right to, and to give to every existing thing that which is proper for its existence.

In short, tzedakah refers to the provision of needs - whether needs determined by a legal system, or by the laws of nature and the design of the organism. This concept is exemplified by the requirements of the Torah-level mitzvah of tzedakah, namely, to provide the poor person with "dey machsoro asher yechsar lo - whatever he is lacking" (Devarim 15:8). We are obligated to make sure that the poor person is given food, water, shelter, clothing, a spouse - and, to an extent, we must also address his or her psychological needs.

Technically speaking, according to the Rambam's first definition, it would be an act of tzedakah to give a hired man his wages, or to pay off a debt; according to his second definition, it would be an act of tzedakah to water a plant, to feed an animal, or to help a human being who is suffering. [5]

This is why I object to translating "tzedakah" as "charity." According to the Rambam, tzedakah is much broader than that, and encompasses all needs of all creations.

Answer to Question #2: Hashem's Tzedakah (in Contrast to Ours)

The Rambam's definition of tzedakah strengthens our Question #2: What does it mean that tzedakah "belongs" to Hashem? Don't we also have tzedakah?

The answer is that Hashem's tzedakah is fundamentally different from human tzedakah. The Rambam alludes to this in the aforementioned chapter of the Guide when he explains how the term "tzadik" is used in reference to Hashem:

We have already explained in discussing the impropriety of [ascribing] attributes to God, for every attribute with which Hashem is described in the books of the Prophets is [really] an attribute of His actions. Thus ... He is called tzadik ("righteous") on account of His mercy with the weak, in providing for every living being according to its faculties.

In that last phrase the Rambam is alluding to a profound example of Hashem's tzedakah. The Radak elaborates on this example in his commentary to Ashrei on the pesukim: "The eyes of all look to You with hope and You give them their food in its proper time. You open Your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing. Hashem is tzadik in all of His ways and kind in all of His deeds" (Tehilim 145:15-17). Radak [6] explains:

You have created all of the physical creatures below, and You have created their food - for there are those that eat vegetation, those that eat seeds, and those that eat other living creatures - and the eyes of all of them depend on You and hope towards You, "and You provide them with food in their time" (ibid.) via the chain of causality ... 

"Hashem is righteous," for He gives each one its food with righteousness and uprightness; even though one living being will prey upon and eat another living being - like a cat and a mouse, and a lion, and a bear, and a leopard, and the other wild animals who eat other wild animals, and the birds [of prey] who eat other birds - everything is with righteousness from Him, because He also provides food for the wild animals and birds who are preyed upon during their lifetime, but when their time comes to die, their death is "programmed" to happen in a manner that is beneficial for others.

We are inclined to think of Hashem's tzedakah in His interaction with human beings, but David ha'Melech points to the phenomenon of ecosystems as a prime example of Hashem's tzedakah. Each and every creature is provided with exactly what it needs to survive and thrive in a manner that sustains the whole. Even though the individual organisms will perish, the ecosystem as a whole perseveres, and each and every creature is taken care of. Hashem even equips each creature with its own methods of preserving its species. Hashem "opens His hand" via His systems of nature and provides "every living thing" with "dey machsoro asher yechsar lo - whatever it is lacking." 

It is in this sense that Hashem's tzedakah differs qualitatively from our tzedakah. Hashem created ALL creatures AND created the resources which sustain them AND created the laws of nature which govern the manner of their provision AND created the faculties that these animals use to obtain their food. In other words, the entire phenomenon of tzedakah vis a vis all living creatures "belongs" to Hashem, insofar as He is the Creator. 

In contrast, we human beings do NOT create the recipients of our tzedakah and do NOT create the resources they need and do NOT create the laws which govern the manner of their provision or the faculties by which they obtain their needs. Our only role is merely to act as the shluchim (agents) of His will who move the material resources from one place to another, in order to supply other humans with what they need from the resources that have been given to us by Hashem, in accordance with His laws. 

True tzedakah belongs to Hashem, and human tzedakah is but a pale shadow. This is what Daniel means when he says, "To You, my Lord, is the tzedakah." 

Answers to Question #3: Definition of Boshes ha'Panim

Generally speaking, "shame" refers to a painful feeling of humiliation that comes from the recognition that one has acted improperly. 

There are two types of shame: (1) the shame that one feels immediately upon doing something wrong or foolish, and (2) the shame that emerges at a later time, as an outcome of the teshuvah process, after recognizing the full extent of the mistake and the harm that it caused. For the sake of simplicity, let us refer to the first type as "reactive shame" and the second type as "reflective shame."

Reactive shame stems purely from the conscience. As such, it might have a valid basis, or it might be totally baseless. Reflective shame originates in the conscience, but is ultimately a result of self-knowledge. 

The conscience-saddled kid who gets caught with his hand in the cookie jar experiences a reactive shame. In the moment of shame, he's not necessarily thinking about the causes or consequences of his decision. The only thing that goes through his mind is: "Oh no! I got caught! SHAME!!! BAD!!! I'M BADDDD!!!" 

In contrast, the 25-year-old who thinks back to how he behaved when he was an immature 15-year-old is filled with a reflective shame. He thinks to himself, "My goodness, I can't believe I acted so foolishly, and said the types of things I said, and thought the types of things I thought! I was SOOO immature back then! I had no idea what was flying! Thank God I grew out of that phase and am a different person now!" 

According to my understanding, the type of shame that is part of the teshuvah process is the reflective type of shame. This is the type of shame that comes from the post-teshuvah recognition that "I am another person, and I am not the same person who did those actions." [7] This is the same which stems from knowledge - not mere guilt.

This "reflective shame" is the type of shame that Daniel was referring to, and that the paytan wrote about in each stanza of our kinah. It is a shame spurred by the recognition of how terribly our forefathers behaved despite the righteousness shown to them by Hashem, and how we have followed in their footsteps. (We will elaborate on this point in detail in our answer to Question #5.)

I suspect that the phrase "ours is the shamefacedness" is used as opposed to "ours is the shame" (without the "-facedness") because we aren't talking about specific instances of shameful actions. Rather, we are talking about our recognition of a trend of shamefulness which carried on for millennia - since Yetzias Mitzrayim (the Exodus from Egypt) and on until the present day. Thus, not only do we experience sporadic bouts of shame from our actions and the actions of our forefathers, but this experience of shame has become a part of our very character. We have become shamefaced people because of our innumerable shameful actions. 

Answer to Question #4: Shamefacedness Belongs to Us

In our answer to Questions #1 and 2 we saw the definition of tzedakah and understood how there is a type of tzedakah that uniquely "belongs" to Hashem. Now that we have seen the definition of boshes ha'panim, how are we to understand the statement that "boshes ha'panim belongs to us"? In what sense is boshes ha'panim uniquely ours?

The answer can be found in Rashi's commentary [8] on our pasuk in Daniel:

ours is the shamefacedness - it is proper for us to be ashamed by what befell us, since we caused it to happen to ourselves.

There is only one phenomenon in this world which "belongs" entirely to us: our own free will. Chazal teach: "ha'kol bi'ydei shamayim chutz mi'yiras shamayim - everything is in the hands of heaven (i.e. in Hashem's control) except for fear of heaven (i.e. our free will)" (Berachos 33b). According to Rashi, our boshes ha'panim belongs entirely to us because we are the sole cause of our sins for which we have been punished.

The Rambam expands upon this point in his discussion of free will in Hilchos Teshuvah. After introducing the concept of free will and refuting the notion that a person's actions are predetermined, the Rambam [9] writes:

There is nothing which compels [man] or decrees upon him [to do a specific action], nor is there anything which pulls him to one of the two paths; rather he – by himself and with his mind – inclines himself to whichever path he desires. This is what Yirmiyahu said: “From the mouth of the Most High do not come forth the bad and the good” (Eichah 3:38), meaning to say, the Creator does not decree upon man, neither to be good nor to be bad.

Consequently, this sinner is the one who harms himself, and therefore it is appropriate for him to cry and bemoan that which he has done to himself, and the bad [consequences] he has brought upon his soul. This is what was written afterwards: “What should a living man bemoan? A man for his sins” (ibid. 3:39). [Yirmiyahu] then returns and says: since the choice is in our hands, and we committed all of this wickedness with our own minds, it is appropriate for us to return in teshuvah and to abandon our wickedness, for the choice is in our hands now; this is what was written afterwards: “Let us search and analyze our ways, and we will return unto Hashem” (ibid. 3:40).

We "own" our boshes ha'panim in the sense that we are the sole cause of our sins. We are completely responsible for what we have done and what we have suffered as a result. 

Answer to Question #5: Hashem's Tzedakah vs. Our Shame

Now we are almost in a position to understand the theme of this kinah. But there is one more point that is necessary to clarify with regards to tzedakah.

In our explanation of tzedakah we noted that Hashem's tzedakah expresses itself in the ecosystems of nature, which provide for all of the needs of the plants, animals, and other organisms therein. But Daniel's tefilah and our kinah are not about other organisms, but human beings - and Bnei Yisrael in particular! How does Hashem's tzedakah express itself in His relationship to Bnei Yisrael? 

The answer is that everything that Hashem has done for (and to) Bnei Yisrael has been for the sake of our development as a nation of truth-seeking human beings. Just as Hashem provides for the physical needs of His physical creations, so too, He provides for the metaphysical needs of His creations which have a metaphysical element (i.e. the tzelem Elokimi / soul / intellect). The Ralbag expresses this example of tzedakah beautifully in the introductory paragraph of his commentary on Torah:

Blessed and exalted be the Rock, Who, with His Understanding, His Wisdom, and His Knowledge, gives existence to all existing things – the existence of which manifests a chochmah (wisdom) and chaninah (beneficence) that none but He can completely apprehend. Praised be the Creator, Who, out of His desire to benefit these existences and to bring them from deficient existence to complete existence, directed His hashgachah (providence) upon these lowly existences, developing them stage by stage until He reached the existence of man. In addition to directing His hashgachah on man’s existence in the wondrous design of his anatomy, his abilities, and the faculties by which his [physical] existence is preserved, He did not refrain from directing His hashgachah on man by guiding him on the path to true perfection – man’s ultimate state of existence, for the sake of which this lowly material existence was endowed with tzurah (design) to the extent that it is. He did this by giving us the divine Torah, which is a nimus (regimen) that brings those who practice it properly to the true success.

With the other physical organisms on earth Hashem DID stop at providing them with "the wondrous design of their anatomy, their abilities, and the faculties by which their physical existence is preserved," since their existence is purely physical. But in the case of mankind, Hashem did NOT stop with providing us with the tools to preserve our physical existence, but He also gave us a tool (i.e. the Torah) to ensure that we develop the metaphysical aspect of our existence as well. 

All of the instances of hashgachah throughout Bnei Yisrael's history - from the Avos, through Yetzias Mitzrayim, to the giving of the Torah at Sinai, to the sojourn in the Midbar (Wilderness), to the conquest of Eretz Yisrael and beyond - all of these events were for the sake of our spiritual development. 

This, I believe, is the framework in which we are intended to read Kinah #19. Each stanza identifies an instance of Hashem's tzedakah (i.e. the steps He took to facilitate our development as a nation of truth-seekers). In each case, not only did Bnei Yisrael neglect to avail themselves of this divine assistance, but they went in the opposite direction, by their own free will. This pattern of national regression, despite Hashem's tzedakah-driven efforts to assist us, is truly shameful. And because we only have ourselves to blame, the boshes ha'panim is ours. 

Rather than walk through the entire kinah, I've selected a few examples which showcase this approach:

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because You have taken [our] nation from amidst another nation, with miracles; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because of the hypocrisy to be found within us as we emulated [Egypt's abominable] deeds.

Prior to Yetzias Mitzrayim Bnei Yisrael had all but assimilated into Egyptian society; our once distinct cultural-ideological identity was hanging by a few threads. But because He promised Avraham that He would redeem his offspring, Hashem intervened in our national fate, differentiated between Israel and Egypt, gave us mitzvos (Pesach and milah), took us out with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, and redeemed us as His people. "Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah." And how did we respond? By repeatedly longing to return to Egypt, complaining about the Exodus, and emulating the behaviors of the abominable nation from whom we were extracted. "ours is the boshes ha'panim."

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, when we recall the proclamation, "You are witnesses, and I am God!"; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because we blasphemed Hashem in [the Wilderness of] Sin [when we demanded of Aharon,] "Arise and create a god for us!" 

When we stood at Sinai, the entire nation witnessed Hashem speaking to Moshe. At that moment we became witnesses to the reality of "I am Hashem, your God ... you shall not have other gods before Me" (Shemos 20:2-3). No other nation ever has or ever will hear the voice of God speaking to an entire nation as Bnei Yisrael did on that day. He did this for us to establish the foundation of Toras Moshe, the reality of nevuah (prophecy), and to instill a national experience of yiras Hashem (fear of God) - all for the sake of our national development as "a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (ibid. 19:6). "Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah." And how did we respond? Less than 40 days later, we turned our backs on the truth we had witnessed, made our own gods, and demanded to be taken back to Egypt. "ours is the boshes ha'panim."

Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah, because You provided us with the mahn, the well, and the pillar of clouds; and ours is the boshes ha'panim, because our forefathers grumbled in their tents about [the mahn and called it] the destructive bread. 

Had we been left to fend for ourselves during our sojourn in the Midbar - "an unsown land" (Yirmiyahu 2:2)  - we would have died in a matter of days. But Hashem, in His abundant mercy, sustained us, nourished us, and protected us in a miraculous manner. Not only did He care for our physical needs, but by giving us mitzvos and lessons which pertained to our daily "bread," He attempted to refine us spiritually as well. "Yours, my Lord, is the tzedakah." And how did we respond? Like a spoiled child: by taking His kindness for granted, complaining about the journey and the miraculous food, and lacking trust that He would protect us. "ours is the boshes ha'panim."

The other stanzas can be learned in a similar manner. In this kinah we lament the fact that our forefathers neglected all of the developmental tools and experiences that Hashem provided and ran in the opposite direction, away from "the true success" towards oblivion. And if we are honest with ourselves, we will recognize these same flaws in ourselves, and that these flaws are what continues to hold us back from the teshuvah that is required for the ultimate redemption.

Another Approach ... Next Time

When I was learning through this kinah with my chavrusa we stumbled upon what we believe is a deeper way of learning the idea of the refrain - specifically, the meaning of "ours is the boshes ha'panim." However, due to the length of this post - and the fact that it is currently 11pm on the night of Tishah b'Av - I think it would best if we left this alternative interpretation for another blog post.

[1] On a methodological note: ordinarily I would seek to understand this pasuk in its context, and then use that insight to guide my understanding of how the paytan used it in his kinah. In this case, I tried that, but didn't get very far. So instead, I just focused on the words of the pasuk and ignored the context. 
[2] Some might object to Questions #2 and 4, saying, "I don't think these are really questions. The phrases 'to you' and 'to us' is just an idiom. It's not expressing a notion that righteousness belongs to Hashem or that shamefacedness belongs to us. It's just saying that Hashem is righteous and we are ashamed!" I worried about this possibility as well. But then I found a midrash in Shemos Rabbah (Ki Sisa 41) which interprets our pasuk in Daniel in terms of ownership, comparing to the pasuk, "To Hashem belongs the earth and its fullness" (Tehilim 24:6), which it then expounds, saying, "The earth is His, the fruits are His, etc." To my mind, Chazal's juxtaposition of these two pesukim is a sufficient basis for reading our pasuk in Daniel as "tzedakah belongs to You" and "shamefacedness belongs to us" rather than "Hashem is righteous" and "we are shamefaced."
[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Moreh ha'Nevuchim 3:53
[4] It is difficult to know what the Rambam means by this word, since he wrote the Moreh ha'Nevuchim in Arabic and is trying to define a Hebrew term with an Arabic term.
[5] The Rambam actually gives a different reason why helping others is tzedakah, but that is beyond the scope of this blog post.
[6] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Tehilim 145:15,17
[7] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah; Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah 2:4
[8] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Daniel 9:7. I feel I should add that this answer was suggested by my chavrusa before we saw the Rashi. 
[9] ibid. 5:2

Yom ha'Kippurim 5777: On Being Human

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

Artwork: (Unknown Zendikar Art)

Yom ha'Kippurim 5777: On Being Human

There is a passage from Richard Mitchell's The Gift of Fire that I think about going into Yom ha'Kippurim. Here is the excerpt in its entirety:

Chapter 1: "Who is Socrates, now that we need him?" 

I imagine some well-informed and largely wise visitor from another world who comes to Earth to study us. He begins by choosing two people at random, and, since time and place are of no importance to him, but only the single fact of humanity, he chooses Socrates and me, leaving aside for the moment every other human being. He begins with an understanding of the single but tremendous attribute that distinguishes us both from all other creatures of Earth. We are capable of Reason. Capable. We can know ourselves, unlike the foxes and the oaks, and can know that we know ourselves. He knows that while we have appetites and urges just like all the other creatures, we have the astonishing power of seeing them not simply as the necessary attributes of what we are, but as separate from us in a strange way, so that we can hold them at arm's length, turning them this way and that, and make judgment of them, and even put them aside, saying, Yes, that is "me," in a way, but, when I choose, it is just a thing, not truly me, but only mine. He sees, in short, what "human" means in "human beings."

And then he considers the specimens he has chosen, Socrates and me. He measures that degree to which they conform to what "human" means in "human beings." With those superior extraterrestrial powers that imagination grants him, he will easily discover:

That I have notions, certain "sayings" in my mind, that flatly contradict one another; believing, for instance, that I can choose for myself the path of my life while blaming other people for the difficulty of the path. With Socrates, this is not the case.

That my mind is full of ideas that are truly nothing more than words, and that as to the meaning of the words I have no clear and constant idea, behaving today as though "justice" were one thing, and tomorrow as though it were another. That, while wanting to be happy and good, I have no clear ideas by which I might distinguish, or might even want to distinguish, happiness from pleasure, and goodness from social acceptability. With Socrates, this is not the case.

That I usually believe what I believe not because I have tested and found it coherent and consistent, and harmonious with evidence, but because it is also believed by the right people, people like me, and because it pleases me. And that furthermore, I live and act and speak as though my believing were no different from my knowing. With Socrates, this is not the case.

That I put myself forth as one who can direct and govern the minds, the inner lives, of others, that, in fact, I make my living as one who can do that, but that my own actions are governed, more often than not, by desire or whim. With Socrates, this is not the case.

That I seem to have a great need for things, and think myself somehow treated unjustly by an insufficiency of them, and that this insufficiency, which seems strangely to persist even after I get hold of the thing whose necessity I have most recently noted, prevents in me that cheerful and temperate disposition to which I deem myself entitled. With Socrates, this is not the case.

That I seem to know what I want, but that I have no way of figuring out whether I should want what I want, and that, indeed, it does not occur to me that I should be able to figure that out. With Socrates, this is not the case.

And that, in short and in general, my mind, the thing that most makes us human, is not doing the steering of this life, but is usually being hustled along on a wild ride by the disorderly and conflicting commands of whole hosts of notions, appetites, hopes, and fears. With Socrates, this is not the case.

How could the alien enquirer help concluding that there is something "wrong" with me, and that the humanness that is indeed in me has been somehow "broken," which he can clearly see by comparing me with Socrates? Must he not decide that Socrates is the normal human, and I the freak, the distortion of human nature?

When he pronounces me the freak, and Socrates the perfectly ordinary, normal human being, living quite obviously, as perhaps only an "alien" can see, by the power of that which most makes a human a human, shall I defend myself by appeal to the principle of majority rule? Shall I say: Well, after all, Socrates is only one human being, and all the others are more like me. Would I not prove myself all the more the freak by my dependence on such a preposterously irrelevant principle? If that visitor were rude, he might well point out that my ability to see, on the one hand, what is natural to human beings, and to claim, on the other, that its absence is only natural, and thus normal, is just the sort of reasoning that he would expect of a freak, whose very freakishness is seen in his inability to do what is simply natural to his species -- that is, to make sense.

But Socrates would defend me. He would say, for this he said very often:

No, my young friend is not truly a freak. All that I can do, he can do; he just doesn't do it. And if he doesn't do it, it is because of something else that is natural to human beings, and just as human as the powers that you rightly find human in me. Before we awaken, we must sleep, and some of us sleep deeper and longer than others. It may be, that unless we are awakened by some help from other human beings, we sleep our lives away, and never come into those powers. But we can be awakened.

In that respect, my friend is not a freak. He might better be thought a sleepwalker, moving about in the world, and getting all sorts of things done, often on time, and sometimes very effectively indeed. But the very power of routine habit by which he can do all that has become the only government that he knows. And the voices of his desires are loud. He is just now not in a condition to give his full attention to any meaning that might be found in all that he does, or to consider carefully how to distinguish between the better and the worse. He might be thought a child, and a perfectly natural child, who lives still in that curious, glorious haze of youth, when only desire seems worthy of obedience, and when the mighty fact of the world that is so very "there" looms immeasurably larger than the fact of the self that is in that world. He might grow up, and it is the "mightness" in him that makes him truly human, however he may look like a freak just now. From time to time, we are all just such freaks, and mindless, for mindlessness is the great background of noise out of which some few certain sounds can be brought forth and harmonized as music.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although Mitchell's words stand on their own, I find that I associate them to a statement from Chazal, which the Rambam brings down in Hilchos Beis ha'Bechirah 2:2:

There is a unanimous tradition that the place on which David and Shlomo built the Altar, the threshing floor of Arnan, is the location where Abraham built the Altar on which he prepared Yitzchak for sacrifice. Noach built [an altar] on that location when he left the ark. It was also [the place] of the Altar on which Kayin and Hevel brought sacrifices.[Similarly,] Adam, the first man, offered a sacrifice there and was created at that very spot, as our Sages said: "Man was created from the place of his atonement" ("Adam mi'makom kaparaso nivra").

Cheit (sin) is unavoidable. Shlomo ha'Melech said: "There is no [entirely] righteous man on earth who does [only] good and does not sin" (Koheles 7:20). Alexander Pope said: "To err is human." However, even though it is natural to sin, this doesn't mean that to sin is our nature.

This, I believe, is what Mitchell was getting at, and what Chazal were alluding to when they said that man was created from the place of his kaparah. Judaism does not entertain fanciful notions of "saints." The cycles of cheit and teshuvah, avon and kaparah, regression and development, are part of what it means to be human. Our struggle to overcome our natural inclinations to live in line with our true nature is by design.

In this sense, it is a mistake to view cheit as an utter failure. Instead, cheit should be viewed as an opportunity for self-knowledge and development. I believe that this shift in our perspective of cheit is essential in order to have a Yom ha'Kippurim that is a "fresh start" day of growth rather than a "dead end" day of guilt and self-castigation.

"I am only human." This argument is, at the same time, our greatest defense, but also our greatest liability - depending on what we mean when we invoke it. And what better time to contemplate that meaning than Yom ha'Kippurim, when we stand before the Creator and beseech Him to help us live as He designed us to live.

May we all attain kaparah this Yom ha'Kippurim and arrive at a truer relationship with our own humanity.

How to Learn Selichos

Artwork: Plains (Avacyn Restored), by Adam Paquette

How to Learn Selichos

The aim of this post is not to take up the topic of selichos in general. If you are interested in gaining a basic understanding of what selichos are, I suggest you learn Rabbi Zucker's shiur on selichos in The Kuntress and/or Rabbi Maroof's blog post entitled The Mysterious Power of Selichot. Rather, the objective of this post is to set forth a simple methodology for analyzing and understanding each of the selichos in particular, in a manner that will enhance our personal selichos experience and help make the selichos accessible as a tool for teshuvah.

First and foremost, I must give credit where credit is due. Once upon a time, in my second or third year of yeshiva, Aron S. gave a series of shiurim on selichos. Those shiurim forever changed the way I relate to selichos, and I owe Aron a debt of gratitude for making selichos come alive for me. I only wish that I had recorded those shiurim, or at least taken notes on them. Instead, I'll have to work based on memory. As always, please correct me if I am wrong.

If my memory serves me correctly, Aron explained that selichos is one of the oldest minhagim, predating even the Mishnah. Although the centerpiece of selichos is the recitation of the Yud Gimmel Middos ha'Rachamim, the original minhag also included the recitation of pesukim on themes of selichah and teshuvah. These pesukim were carefully selected, arranged, and - in some cases - modified in order to form a flowing series of supplications. The only remnants of these pesukim we have today are the lengthy introduction to each day's selichos (beginning with לך יי הצדקה, ולנו בושת הפנים) and conclusion of the selichos service (beginning with זכור רחמיך יי וחסדיך, כי מעולם המה), as well as the smaller clusters of prefatory pesukim which we recite before each of the particular selichos which were composed by R' Shlomo ha'Bavli and the other paytanim.

What people might not realize is that these piyutim are based on those clusters of pesukim - those pesukim which constituted the original selichos of ancient times, before any piyutim were composed to accompany them. And that, right there, is the basis of the methodology for learning selichos: if we can define the theme of that cluster of pesukim, then we will understand the theme of the selichah that follows.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let's try applying this to the first selichah of Day 2 and see if it works. Here is the cluster of prefatory pesukim as they appear in the sidur:

אִם עֲוֹנֵינוּ עָנוּ בָנוּ יְיָ עֲשֵׂה לְמַעַן שְׁמֶךָ: (ירמיהו יד:ז) אֲדֹנָי יְיִ סְלַח נָא לַעֲוֹן יַעֲקֹב כִּי קָטֹן הוּא: (עמוס ז:ב) כִּי שָׁחָה לֶעָפָר נַפְשֵׁנוּ דָּבְקָה לָאָרֶץ בִּטְנֵנוּ: (תהלים מד:כו) עוּרָה לָמָּה תִישַׁן אֲדֹנָי הָקִיצָה אַל תִּזְנַח לָנֶצַח: (שם מד:כד) וְעַתָּה יִגְדַּל נָא כֹּחַ אֲדֹנָי כַּאֲשֶׁר דִּבַּרְתָּ לֵאמֹר: (במדבר יד:יז)

Though our iniquities testify against us, Hashem, act for Your Name's sake (Yirmiyahu 14:7). Hashem/Elokim, please forgive Yaakov's sin, for he is small (Amos 7:2). For prostrated to the dust is our soul, stuck to the earth is our belly (Tehilim 44:26). Awaken! Why do You sleep, O my Lord? Arouse Yourself! Do not forsake us forever! (ibid. 44:24). And now, please let my Lord's strength grow great, as You have spoken, saying (Bamidbar 14:17).

First we will examine each of these pesukim on its own, in its context. Next, we will see if we can discern the overall theme of the cluster. Finally, we will read the selichah in light of this theme.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Though our iniquities testify against us, Hashem, act for Your Name's sake" (Yirmiyahu 14:7)

This pasuk appears in Sefer Yirmiyahu immediately after a prophecy about a drought which (according to most commentators) took place during the reign of Tzidkiah. Here is the pasuk in context:

The word of Hashem that came to Yirmiyahu concerning the droughts: Yehudah mourns; her cities are devastated, they are blackened like the ground; and the cry of Yerushalayim has gone up. Their officers send out their youngsters for water. They go to cisterns, but do not find water; they bring back their containers empty; they are embarrassed and ashamed and cover their head. Because the ground is parched, for there has been no rain in the land, plowmen are embarrassed; they cover their head. Even the hind in the field gives birth and then abandons [her young], for there is no vegetation. The wild donkeys stand on the hilltops; they suck in the air like serpents; their eyes pine away because there is no herbage. Though our iniquities testify against us, Hashem, act for Your Name's sake, for our waywardness is great; we have sinned against You. O Hope of Israel, its Redeemer in time of trouble, why should You be like a stranger in the land, like a wayfarer who turns off [the road] to sleep over for the night? Why should You be like a man in shock, like a hero who cannot save? But You are in our midst, O Hashem, and Your Name is proclaimed upon us; do not abandon us.

When read in isolation, one might interpret the phrase "though our iniquities testify against us" in a metaphysical-metaphorical sense - namely, that our "record" of iniquity stands as a testimony against us in the Beis Din shel Maalah (The Heavenly Court). In context, however, it appears that the Navi is speaking quite literally: the drought that befell Yehudah and Yerushalayim bears witness to the severity of our iniquities. Radak explains:

“If our iniquities testify against us” – [our iniquities] bear witness against us, for when we see that the rain is withheld from our land, but not the lands of the goyim, this bears witness to the fact that we are being stricken on account [of our iniquities]; nevertheless, act for the sake of Your Name, which is proclaimed upon us.

Main Idea of the Yirmiyahu 14:7: We are cognizant of our iniquities and the severity of our waywardness, for we cannot deny the hashgachic evidence that surrounds us. Nevertheless, do not abandon us, Hashem! Save us - not because we are worthy, but because we are the bearers of Your Name!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hashem/Elokim, please forgive Yaakov's sin, for he is small" (Amos 7:2)

Interestingly enough, this pasuk also appears in the context of an agricultural calamity:

Thus did Hashem/Elokim show me: Behold! He was forming [a swarm] of locusts as the later growth was beginning to sprout; and behold the later growth appeared after the king's reaping. It was when [the swarm] was finished devouring the grass of the earth, that I said, "Hashem/Elokim, please forgive! How will Yaakov survive, for he is small?" So Hashem relented concerning this: "It shall not be," said Hashem.

Thus did Hashem/Elokim show me: Behold, Hashem/Elokim was summoning [His legions] to contend [with Israel] by fire; and it consumed the great depths and devoured the portion of land. And I said, "Hashem/Elokim, please refrain! How will Yaakov survive, for he is small?" So Hashem relented concerning this: "It too shall not be," said Hashem/Elokim. 

Thus did He show me: Behold, the Lord standing on a plumbed wall with a plumb line in His hand. And Hashem said to me, "What do you see, Amos?" I said, "A plumb line." The Lord then said, "Behold, I am placing a plumb line in the midst of My nation Israel; I will no longer continue to forbear them. The high places of Yitzchak will be made desolate and the sanctuaries of Yisrael destroyed; and I will rise up against the house of Yeravam with the sword."  

The first thing we notice is that the baal ha'selichos (the person or persons who selected and arranged these pesukim for the purposes of selichos) changed the language of the pasuk. The pasuk appears in the selichos as a request accompanied by a reason: "Hashem/Elokim, please forgive Yaakov's sin, for he is small" In contrast, the Navi himself poses the request accompanied by a rhetorical question: "Hashem/Elokim, please forgive! How will Yaakov survive, for he is small?" Radak explains the Navi's request/argument:

How will Yaakov survive these decrees [of punishment], for he is small, and he will remain [but] a few out of many?

I'm not sure why the baal selichos decided to "edit" the pasuk. Perhaps he didn't want to explicitly mention the possibility of our nation not surviving.

Apparently, the Navi's argument worked, and Hashem relented. Soon thereafter, the nation's sinfulness caused it to incur retribution by fire. The Navi used the same request/argument, and it worked again. But the third time, Hashem said, "I will no longer continue to forbear them." According to the Radak, the plumb line - a device used to precisely measure depth - symbolizes strict justice. By showing the Navi the vision of the plumb line, Hashem made it clear that He would no longer show mercy, and the nation would receive strict justice in the form of (near) utter destruction.

Main Idea of Amos 7:2: We realize that we are deserving of harsh decrees, Hashem/Elokim, but have mercy on us, for we fear that we will not be able to survive the destructiveness of Your retribution!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"For prostrated to the dust is our soul, stuck to the earth is our belly" (Tehilim 44:26) "Awaken! Why do You sleep, O my Lord? Arouse Yourself! Do not forsake us forever!" (ibid. 44:24)

These two pesukim are taken out of order from a single chapter of Tehilim. Here is the entire chapter:

For the conductor, by the sons of Korach, a maskil. God, with our ears we have heard, our fathers have recounted to us, the work that You wrought in their days, in days of old. You, with Your own hand, drove out nations, and You implanted them; You afflicted regimes and banished them. For not by their sword did they possess the land, nor did their own arm help them; but by Your right hand, Your arm, and the light of Your Countenance - for You favored them. It is You Who are my King, O God; command the salvations of Yaakov. Through You we shall gore our foes; by Your Name we will trample our opponents. For I do not trust in my bow, nor does my sword save me. For You have saved us from our oppressors, and You shamed those who hate us. In God we glory all the day, and Your Name we forever thank, Selah! - Even though You abandon and disgrace us, and You do not go forth with our armies; You cause us to retreat from the oppressor, and our haters plunder for themselves; You deliver us like sheep to be eaten, and have scattered us among the nations; You sell Your nation for no fortune, and You did not inflate their price; You make us a disgrace to our neighbors, the mockery and scorn of those around us; You make us a byword among the nations, a cause for the regimes to shake their heads. All day long my humiliation is before me and my shamefacedness covers me - at the voice of the reviler and blasphemer, because of the enemy and avenger. All this came upon us yet we have not forgotten You, and we have not been false to Your covenant. Our heart has not turned back, nor have our footsteps strayed from Your path, even when You crushed us in the place of serpents and shrouded us in the shadow of death. Have we forgotten the Name of our God and extended our hands to a strange god? Is it not so that God can examine this, for He knows the secrets of the heart? Because for Your sake we are killed all the time, we are considered as sheep for slaughter. Awaken, why do You sleep, O Lord? Arouse Yourself! Do not forsake us forever! Why do You conceal Your face? do You forget our affliction and oppression? For prostrated to the dust is our soul, stuck to the earth is our belly. Arise! Assist us! And redeem us for the sake of Your kindness!

The flow of this perek is quite interesting. The author begins by recounting Hashem's hashgachah over our ancestors. He expresses his own trust in that hasghachah, and his recognition that Hashem is the cause of his victory and salvation. But without warning, he transitions into a depiction of Hashem as the cause of our defeat and our oppression at the hands of our enemies. He emphasizes that in spite of all these afflictions, we have not forgotten Hashem, nor have we breached His covenant. The author then raises a question against Hashem's conduct: Considering our unwavering devotion to Hashem's Name, why does He conceal His countenance and abandon us to be destroyed by our enemies? The author concludes with a request for redemption, for the sake of Hashem's kindness.

The first of our two pesukim highlights the low state we are in. Radak explains that "prostrated to the dust is our soul" means we are close to death and our soul is on the brink of departing from our body, whereas "stuck to the earth is our belly" depicts a person who has fallen, but can no longer support his weight with his own hands, and therefore falls with his belly to the ground.

The second of our two pesukim is a plea for hashgachah. On the one hand wee know that "the Guardian of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps" (ibid. 121:4). Still - the Radak explains - when Hashem doesn't intervene to save us from our enemies, we can't help but feel that He is asleep and doesn't see our plight. Moreover, it feels that He has been asleep for many years. David ha'Melech therefore requests, "Do not forsake us forever!"

Summary of Tehilim 44:26 and 24: Hashem, the concealment of Your countenance (i.e. Your hashgachah) has left us in a state of distress. We are close to death and lack the strength to support ourselves - and yet, You seem to be unaware of our suffering! Please do not abandon us!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And now, please let my Lord's strength grow great, as You have spoken, saying (Bamidbar 14:17)

The last pasuk in the series is from Moshe Rabbeinu's tefilah after the incident of the meraglim. Hashem is angry and declares, "How long will this people provoke Me, and how long will they not have conviction in Me, despite all the signs that I have performed in their midst? I will smite them with the plague and annihilate them, and I shall make you a greater and more powerful nation than they" (ibid. 11-12). Moshe responds: 

"Then Egypt - from whose midst You brought up this nation with Your power - will hear, and they will say about the inhabitants of this Land, 'They have heard that You, Hashem, are in the midst of this people - that You, Hashem, appeared eye to eye and Your cloud stands over them, and that in a pillar of cloud You go before them by day and in a pillar of fire by night - yet You killed this people like a single man!' Then the nations that heard of Your fame will say, 'Because Hashem lacked the ability to bring this people to the Land that He has sworn to give them, He slaughtered them in the Wilderness.' And now - may the power of my Lord be magnified as You have spoken saying, 'Hashem, slow to anger, abundant in kindness, forgiver of iniquity and willful sin, and Who cleanses - but does not cleanse completely, recalling the iniquity of parents upon [rebellious] children to the third and fourth generations' - forgive now the iniquity of this people according to the greatness of Your kindness and as You have forgiven this people from Egypt until now."

Main Idea of Bamidbar 14:7: It is true, Hashem, that Your people deserves utter destruction. Nevertheless, if You destroy them, You will cause a desecration of Your Name among the nations. Therefore, have mercy and forgive these people for the sake of Your kindness. By doing so, this will magnify Your power in the eyes of the nation.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let's summarize the ideas that emerged from each pasuk:

• Yirmiyahu 14:7: We deserve punishment, but we request that Hashem save us for His Name's sake.
• Amos 7:2: We deserve harsh decrees, but we fear that we will be unable to survive.
• Tehilim 44:26: We are close to death, and have no strength.
• Tehilim 44:24: Hashem has concealed Himself for too long. 
• Bamidbar 17:4: For the sake of His Name, He should show us mercy.

Now I think the theme of this cluster of pesukim is clear. As has become my custom, I will summarize it in four sentences, in supplicatory form:

We recognize that we have sinned before You and are unworthy of Your salvation, Hashem, as is evident from the afflictions which befall us and which testify to the withdrawal of Your hashgachah. But we are still Your nation, the bearers of Your Name! Therefore, show us kindness for the sake of Your Name, and do not abandon Your people forever. For we are weak and we are on the brink of destruction, and if you continue to conceal Your countenance from us, we will surely perish, and Your Name and the manifestation of Your power will be diminished in the eyes of the nations. 

In short, the theme of this selichah may be summed up as follows: We beseech Hashem to save His weakened and diminished nation from utter destruction, not for our sake - for we are unworthy - but for the sake of His Great Name, which is the basis of Hashem's kindness towards His people.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now we can read the selichah in its entirety to see if our definition of the theme is reflected in the words:

Our God, and the God of our forefathers: 

If our iniquities have increased greatly, 

and thickly plaited ropes bear witness against us, 

[if our sins] have caused us to create a rift between the two [of us, God and Israel], 

You will not withhold Your merciful ways. 

You have promised to act with the Midas ha'Chesed,

and it was You Who was from the beginning.

Remember Your flock that You have acquired for Yourself,

and be gracious to the remnants of the ones You called, '[My] first-born.'

You carried us and placed us on the [Holy] City's height,

You settled us on the Patriarchs' rocky peak.

Suddenly You crushed us in the place of serpents.

How long have we waited to go forth [from it] to liberty?

Due to the many [evil] occurrences, and the trembling panic,

my soul is in turmoil, [it is bent] to the dust it abhors.

Prop up the one whose belly sags to the ground!

Awake! Why do You [seem to] sleep, [our] Hope?

May it be Your will to cry, 'Undo your fetters!' to Your prisoners,

[and to] cut short the reckoning for their time of suffering.

Gather up Your dispersed ones, the scattered flock;

when wickedness sees [this], it will clamp its mouth shut.

Keep the vow of kindness and the compact

of the wholesome one, the heaped one, and the builder, my mighty [Patriarchs].

May He command His peace [to us], not to [be] shamed,

turning and changing the times to good.

Although Yaakov is small and poor, 

sickly, despised, and [thought] worthless,

[yet he shall have] life and kindness, a fortress and tower [from God],

as now Your strength is [revealed in its] greatness.

In my opinion, it appears we were correct! The theme we derived from the pesukim is amplified in poetic form by the words of the paytan. Every element from each of the five pesukim can clearly be seen in the selichah, and the stanzas bear out all of the ideas we identified.

This was my first attempt at applying this method, and I am very satisfied with the results. Although it took a lot of time and effort to go through the pesukim, I see that it was worthwhile. When I read this selichah tomorrow morning, I will actually understand and connect to what I am saying. I hope that you have also found this exercise useful, and that you will be granted the time, energy, and insight to apply this method on your own, and that you will be able to unleash the tremendous power of selichos.

The Role of Regret in Teshuvah

The Role of Regret in Teshuvah

I was recently thinking about the role of nechamah (regret) in the teshuvah process. The Rambam spells out this requirement in Hilchos Teshuvah 2:2:

What is teshuvah? That the sinner should abandon his sin, and remove it from his plans, and resolve in his heart not to do it again, as it is stated, "The evil one should abandon his way, and the man of iniquity his plans" (Yishayahu 55:7). Likewise, he should regret having transgressed, as it is stated, "for after I did teshuvah, I regretted; after I became aware [of my sin], I slapped [my] thigh [in anguish]" (Yirmiyahu 31:18). And the One Who Knows Hidden Things should testify about him that he will never return to this sin, as it is stated, "We will no longer say, 'O our gods!' to the work of our hands, for it is with You that an orphan finds mercy" (Hoshea 14:4). And he must verbally confess and say these matters which he resolved in his heart.

My question emerged when thinking about a unique category of aveirah: an aveirah which ends up improving the transgressor’s life – either because it yields a benefit, or saves him or her from harm. For the sake of brevity, we will refer to this as "the case of the beneficial aveirah." Here are a few examples:

• There are many alcoholics and drug addicts who owe their recovery to “hitting rock bottom.” They recognize that if they hadn’t hit rock bottom, they would have persisted in their dangerous lifestyle – or, worse yet, they would be dead. 

• A person commits adultery and begets a mamzer/mamzeret, whom they raise as a child who they love and cherish. 

• A disenchanted and disenfranchised FFB person "goes off the derech" for a significant period of time, engages in a variety of aveiros, and through this, comes to appreciate the true value of Judaism in his or her life; that recognition, in turn, becomes the foundation of his or her new Jewish identity, which lasts for a lifetime.

All of these cases raise the same difficulty: How can a person honestly regret having committed the aveirah in question? How can the addict truly regret hitting rock bottom if doing so resulted in his salvation? How can the adulterer genuinely regret committing adultery, knowing that his beloved son or daughter would never have come into existence otherwise? How can the "off-the-derech baal teshuvah" honestly regret the numerous aveiros which ultimately rekindled his relationship with Judaism?

In order to answer this question, we must understand the nature of the nechamah component of teshuvah. Before we learn what it is, we must first establish what it is not.

"To have nechamah" does not mean "to wish that the aveirah never happened." The derech ha’Torah is to bring us closer to reality – not further away. The aveirah did happen, and to wish that it didn’t happen is to venture into a fantasy land. To the contrary, one must continue to face the reality of one’s past transgressions even after the teshuvah process is complete, as David ha’Melech said: "my sin is before me, constantly" (Tehilim 51:5).

Nor does "nechamah" refer to the pangs of shame and guilt which immediately follow in the wake of the aveirah. This is evident from the Rambam's placement of nechamah within the teshuvah procedure. Nechamah is the fourth step in the process - not the first. The pasuk that the Rambam quotes also supports this: "for after I did teshuvah, I regretted" (Yirmiyahu 31:18)

Likewise, "to have nechamah" does not mean "to stew in guilt and brood excessively over having transgressed," even after one has completed the primary teshuvah process. Not only is this type of regret unhealthy and unproductive, but it also runs contrary to the derech ha’Torah. The Rambam, in Hilchos Avel 13:11 writes: 

A person shouldn’t be excessively aggrieved (lit. "a person shouldn’t be too harsh with himself") over his dead [relative], as it is stated, "Do not weep for a dead man, and do not shake your head for him" (Yirmiyahu 22:10) – in other words, [do not cry] excessively, for such is minhago shel olam (the way of the world), and a person who pains himself over the minhago shel olam is a fool. Rather, how should he mourn? Three days for crying, seven days for eulogizing, and thirty days for [refraining from] haircuts and the other five [Rabbinic mourning practices]. 

If a person is considered to be a fool for excessively mourning and "being too harsh with himself" over the death of a loved one, then it is certainly foolish to be excessively aggrieved over an aveirah. Although cheit is certainly worthy of some degree of bemoaning – as the navi said, "Over what should a living person bemoan? A man over his own sins" (Eichah 3:39) – even cheit is "minhago shel olam," as Shlomo ha’Melech said, "For there is no man on earth who is [so righteous] and does not sin" (Koheles 7:20).

So what does nechamah mean in the context of teshuvah? I believe the answer boils down to a concept I learned from a shiur given by Rabbi Maroof on the topic of coping with tragedy. Rabbi Maroof cited a midrash from Pirkei d’Rebbi Eliezer. The midrash relates an incident in which Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai lost a son, and his colleagues came to provide him with nechamah (consolation). Several Tannaim attempted to comfort him by citing other instances of people in Tanach who suffered losses and were consoled (e.g. Adam ha’Rishon, David ha’Melech, Iyov, Aharon ha’Kohen). To each of these examples, Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai responds in the same way: "Why are you telling me about the tragic losses of other people? That doesn’t help me – it just makes things worse!"

Finally, Rebbi Elazar ben Azaryah comes and says: 

“I would like to offer you a mashal (parable). To what can this matter be compared? – To a man to whom the king entrusted a deposit. Each and every day the man cries and shouts and says, ‘Woe is to me! When will I depart from this deposit in peace?’ So it is with you, my master. You had a son. He read Torah, Prophets, Writings, Mishnah, Halacha, and Aggadah and he left the world without sin. You should be consoled that you returned the deposit intact.” 

[Rebbi Yochanan ben Zakkai] said to him, “Rebbi Elazar, my son – you have consoled me in the manner that human beings console.”

In explaining the meaning of Rebbi Elazar ben Azaryah’s comment (which I will not delve into here), Rabbi Maroof defined nechamah in the context of mourning:

The word in Hebrew for consolation is "nechamah." "Nechamah" means actually "to change your mind" [as in] "Hashem changed His mind (va'yinachem) the harm He declared He would do to His people" (Shemos 32:14). It means "to change your mind." "le'nachem" – "to console somebody" – means to help them change their perspective.

Rabbi Maroof went on to explain how Rebbi Elazar ben Azaryah’s mashal helped Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai to change his perspective by helping him to find meaning in his own loss. This "change of mind" is the essence of real nechamah over a personal tragedy. Rabbi Maroof elaborated in his description of this understanding of nechamah: 

If you want to use the word "cope [with their loss]," that's the best term. To cope with it [means] to see it in a manner that is manageable. To "cope with it" means to see it in a way that one can integrate it. What happens when we have a terrible loss and terrible suffering is that we feel like our personalities are broken, [and that we] are not whole, and we cannot function … To be able to integrate [the tragedy] into yourself again, to be able to absorb it, you need to be able to see it in a way that will fit, [so] that you can digest it.

To my mind, Rabbi Maroof’s definition of nechamah is the key to understanding the nechamah-component of teshuvah. "Nechamah" means "to change one’s mind" or "to change one’s perspective.' Theoretically, it is possible for a person to "quit" an aveirah "cold turkey" without nechamah. In other words, he can stop doing the aveirah, remove it from his plans, and resolve never to do it again – all without undergoing a real change of perspective on that aveirah.

This is where "nechamah" enters the picture. It is not enough to stop doing the aveirah and ensure that it never happens again. Teshuvah demands more. It demands that we understand how and why our involvement in this aveirah was harmful, and stemmed from a distorted view of reality. Teshuvah involves a transformation of the mind, from the mentality which contributed to our doing of the aveirah to a new state of mind, in which we would never do the aveirah. 

While looking for images to use in this blog post, I came across the following piece of street art:

"Never Regret Anything because at one time it was exactly what you wanted."

Needless to say, the Torah would not condone the first half of this message. However, the second half can serve as an excellent catalyst for arriving at genuine nechamah over one's past transgressions. The first step is to recognize that the aveirah is something that you wanted - at least, on some level, to the point where you went through with it. The second step is to understand the distortion involved in that desire. The final step is to develop your knowledge, middos, and values to the point where you no longer see that action as a good. That is the true philosophical "regret" which is an essential part of teshuvah.

Obviously, this is easier said than done. But nobody ever said teshuvah is easy.

I believe we can now answer our initial question. How can a person honestly have nechamah for committed an aveirah if that aveirah which improved his life? The answer is: by recognizing that the decision to do the aveirah and the results of that aveirah are only related circumstantially - not essentially. I will explain what I mean by introducing one more concept.

Hint: Don't.

I play a strategic trading card game called Magic: the Gathering. The game involves a tremendous amount of skill, but also involves a healthy amount of chance. Accordingly, it has been described as a combination of chess and poker.

The Magic pros caution against a fallacy they call "results-oriented thinking" (or "R.O.T."). To commit the fallacy of R.O.T. is to evaluate the success and failure of in-game decisions based exclusively on the results, rather than the strategic decision-making process. 

For example, let's say we were playing a simple "game" in which I roll a 20-sided dice. You have two choices: you can choose to bet on the numbers 1-19, or on the number 20. If you win, you get $100, and if you lose, you lose $500. Obviously, the rational decision is to bet on the numbers 1-19, which would give you a 95% chance of winning, as opposed to a 5% chance. 

Now, let's say we play. I roll the dice and it lands on 20 and you lose $500. If, in such a situation, you would say to yourself, "Oh man! I CLEARLY made the wrong decision! I SHOULD have picked 20!" then you have fallen prey to Results-Oriented Thinking. And if you were really ignorant about probability, you would conclude, "Next time I'll be sure to bet on 20." 

In contrast, if you were wise, you would shrug your shoulders at your loss and say, "I made the correct decision, and the odds were in my favor, but the dice just happened to fall out on an improbable outcome." And you would bet on 1-19 the next time, and the next time, and the next time - even if the dice landed on 20 multiple times in a row (provided you were certain that the dice were weighted fairly). 

So too, when doing teshuvah, one must not fall prey to the fallacy of Results-Oriented Thinking. Indeed, "the case of the beneficial aveirah" is somewhat of a misnomer. It may very well be that a person gained a tremendous benefit from an aveirah - and not just an imaginary benefit, but a real benefit. 

But here is the critical point: just because the transgressor received a beneficial result does not mean that the aveirah was a good decision. The decision to transgress must be evaluated on its own terms, completely independently from the consequences that came about as a result. For example:

• The drug addict's life might have turned around after he hit rock bottom, but that doesn't change the fact that indulging an addiction is a bad decision.

• The adulterer might have ended up raising a wonderful child whom he or she loves, but that doesn't change the fact that committing adultery is a bad decision.

• The "off the derech" dabbler might have ended up reunited with Torah, but that doesn't change the fact that violating Torah is a bad decision.

This is why it is so important to understand the true nature of the nechamah required by halacha. Without undergoing the process of nechamah - of "changing one's mind" by recognizing the error(s) which led to the transgression - one will not be able to adequately rid oneself of the feeling that the aveirah was actually a good decision, which just happened to be (labeled) as bad. The truth is quite the opposite: the decision was a bad one, even though it just happened to yield a benefit.

I feel like there is a lot more to explore here. I hope that at the very least I have raised a few questions about nechamah and its place in teshuvah. If you have any thoughts, questions, or critiques, I would love to hear them, as always.