Parashas Yisro: The Mitzvah of Emunah

Originally posted in January 2014. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Sacred Foundry, by Noah Bradley

Parashas Yisro: The Mitzvah of Emunah

The first of the Aseres ha’Dibros (Ten Commandments) says: “I am Hashem, your God, Who took you out from the land of Egypt, from the house of slaves, to be your God” (Shemos 20:2; Devarim 5:6). According to the Rambam [1] this pasuk is the source for the fundamental mitzvah known as "Anochi Hashem Elokecha," or just "Anochi." In this dvar Torah we will take up a very basic question: What does this mitzvah obligate us to do? 

The Rambam’s first formulation of this mitzvah can be found in his Sefer ha’Mitzvos. There he writes: “The first mitzvah is the commandment regarding belief (emunah) in the Divinity, namely, to believe (le’haamin) in the existence of the Cause and Prime Mover, Who causes all other existences.”  [2]. In the Mishneh Torah, however, the Rambam presents us with a different formulation: “The first mitzvah is to know (leyda) that God exists.” [3] On the surface, this would appear to be a contradiction: are we commanded to believe in God’s Existence or to know that He Exists? 

This apparent contradiction is fairly easy to resolve if we just take a closer look at the sources. The Rambam originally wrote the Sefer ha’Mitzvos in Arabic. In his formulation of the mitzvah the Rambam used the Arabic word "itiqad" which was subsequently translated into Hebrew by R' Moshe ibn Tibbon as "emunah." 

While this is an important first step, it is just a first step. What does the Rambam mean by emunah/itiqad? Why did he formulate the mitzvah differently in each of his books? 

Thankfully, the Rambam devotes an entire chapter of the Moreh ha’Nevuchim to defining the term emunah/itiqad. He sums up his definition as follows:

Emunah/itiqad is only possible after comprehension; it consists in the conviction that the notion apprehended by the mind has its existence outside of the mind [in reality] exactly as it is conceived in the mind. [4]

In other words, emunah refers to conviction in one’s knowledge. To “have emunah” means to have such a clear and thorough knowledge of something that it becomes real to the mind. [5] 

According to the Rambam's definition, “belief” is a rather poor and misleading English translation of the emunah which the Torah obligates us to have. Even worse is the common translation of emunah as “faith,” which is really the opposite of emunah. “Faith” refers to conviction without, or in spite of, one’s knowledge, whereas emunah refers to conviction based on one’s knowledge. It would be more accurate to translate emunah as “rational conviction.” 

The resolution to our apparent contradiction is now clear. In the Mishneh Torah, where the Rambam formulates the mitzvah as “to know,” he was referring to the maaseh ha’mitzvah (the act we are commanded to do), that is, to obtain knowledge of Hashem's Existence. But in the Sefer ha’Mitzvos, where he formulates the mitzvah as “to have emunah,” he was referring to the kiyum h'amitzvah (the objective, or fulfillment, of the mitzvah). According to the Rambam, we cannot discharge our obligation after obtaining enough knowledge to determine that Hashem exists. Rather, the mitzvah of Anochi demands that we seek knowledge until we reach the level of emunah - that is, to the point where the truth of Hashem’s Existence registers in our minds as a reality, and not merely as a theoretical construct or a pure abstraction. 

Unfortunately, this view of the mitzvah of emunah is often characterized as “the Maimonidean view” - as though it is a daas yachid (minority opinion). In truth, the Rambam’s interpretation of Anochi as demanding knowledge, as opposed to belief or faith, is held by many of the mainstream Rishonim (medieval commentators). For example, the Ramban writes: 

This first statement [of the Ten Commandments] is a positive commandment. He said Anochi Hashem, which instructs and commands them to know and become convinced that Hashem exists, that He is their God, that His Existence is eternal, that everything came from Him by [His] desire and ability, and that He is their God and they are obligated to serve Him. [6]

Similarly, the Baalei Tosafos write:

What is this statement [of Anochi Hashem]? What commandment and what prohibition does it contain? The answer is as follows: “I am Hashem, your God, and I command you to know with a clear knowledge that I am the Creator, and that I am the One Who commands all of the mitzvos, and I am trustworthy to pay back the good and the bad.” The knowledge of Hashem in which a person is obligated is to know that he is the Creator (may He be blessed and exalted). [7]

Ibn Ezra writes at length about how the mitzvah of Anochi demands that each person seek knowledge of Hashem in accordance with the level of his or her intellect. [8] Ralbag explains that Anochi is important not only because it is the foundation of Torah, but because it is the foundation of chochmah (science). [9] Sforno writes that Hashem expects us to establish our emunah with the utmost intellectual rigor, to the point where we “rationally investigate and know every argument to the contrary, then take to heart the true [arguments] therefrom.” [10] The Rashba identifies this standard of emunah as the hallmark of the Jewish people:

This is the true sign of our nation, the Nation of Hashem: that we do not allow ourselves to be taken in by any belief until after we have arrived at its truth by way of intensive, complete analysis. [11]

But what about those individuals who are not on the level to establish their emunah on the basis of rigorous knowledge and investigation? The Sefer ha'Chinuch addresses this question in his treatment of the mitzvah of Anochi. He writes:

The substance of this emunah is that a person should establish in his soul that this is the truth, and that it is impossible to modify this [truth] in any way. And if [his emunah] is questioned, he should answer every questioner that this is what his mind believes and he will never exchange this belief for anything else, even if others threaten to kill him. All of this strengthens and establishes his mind’s belief by transforming the matter from potential to actual – that is, when he affirms with the words of his mouth what he has resolved in his mind. 

And if he merits to rise in levels of wisdom so that his heart understands and his eyes see by clear-cut proof that this emunah he holds is clearly true and cannot be otherwise, then he will have fulfilled this mitzvah in the ideal way (mitzvah min ha’muvchar). [12]

According to the Sefer ha’Chinuch, the minimal level of emunah required by Torah is to believe that Hashem exists, even if that belief isn't supported by knowledge and proof. However, even the Sefer ha’Chinuch maintains that the ideal fulfillment of the mitzvah is to reach the level where one’s emunah is rooted in knowledge. Rabbeinu Bachya Ibn Paquda (Introduction to Chovos ha’Levavos) concurs:

[Relying on tradition] is acceptable only in the case of uneducated women, children, and men who, because of limited perception and comprehension, cannot reason on their own. But whoever has the intellectual capacity to verify what he receives [from tradition] and yet is prevented from doing so by his own laziness, or because he takes lightly God’s commandments and Torah – he will be punished for this and held accountable for negligence. [13] 

These Rishonic definitions of emunah highlight the uniqueness of Judaism. Unlike other religions, which are based on belief and faith, Judaism demands that our relationship to Hashem be built upon a foundation of knowledge, for - as the Ibn Ezra states - "the intellect is the intermediary between man and his Creator." [14]

[1] The Rambam’s view that Anochi is one of the 613 mitzvos is shared by a number of prominent Rishonim, but is not unanimous. Other Rishonim maintain that Anochi precedes the 613 mitzvos, but is not a mitzvah in its own right.

[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Sefer ha'Mitzvos, Mitzvas Aseh #1

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah, Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah: Koseres

[4] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Moreh ha'Nevuchim 1:50

[5] An excellent example of the difference between "mere knowledge" and emunah can be found in the career of Albert Einstein. Timothy Ferris, in Coming of Age in the Milky Way (1988), records an anecdote which illustrates Einstein's emunah in the theory of general relativity (p.204, footnote): 

Einstein once astonished Ernst Straus by saying of Max Planck, the father of quantum physics, "He was one of the finest people I have ever known and one of my best friends; but, you know, he didn't really understand physics." When Straus asked what he meant, Einstein replied, "During the eclipse of 1919, Planck stayed up all night to see if it would confirm the bending of light by the gravitational field of the sun. If he had really understood the way the general relativity explains the equivalence of inertial and gravitational mass, he would have gone to bed the way I did."

[6] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 20:2

[7] Daas Zekeinim mi'Baalei ha'Tosafos, Commentary on Sefer Shemos 20:2

[8] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Shemos 20:2

[9] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 20:2

[10] Rabbeinu Ovadiah Sforno, Commentary on Sefer Devarim 4:39

[11] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderet (Rashba), Shailos u'Tshuvos 1:548

[12] Sefer ha'Chinuch, Parashas Yisro: Mitzvah #25

[13] Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda, Chovos ha'Levavos: Hakdamah

[14] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Introduction to Torah

Parashas Beshalach: Singing Fetuses

Originally posted in January 2014.

Artwork: Abstract Pregnant Woman
(Yes, it's difficult to find artwork for this topic which is in line with the standards of tznius.)

Parashas Beshalach: Singing Fetuses

The central event of Parashas Beshalach is Krias Yam Suf (the Splitting of the Sea of Reeds). Although the Chumash itself highlights the miracle of the sea splitting, we have a mesorah (tradition) that Hashem performed additional miracles at this time. The mishnah in Pirkei Avos (5:4) teaches: “Ten miracles were performed for our forefathers in Egypt, and ten at the sea.” The author of the Hagadah shel Pesach brings down a machlokes (disagreement) among the Sages as to the number of additional plagues that struck the Egyptians at the sea, whether it was 50, 200, or 250. The identity of these additional miracles and plagues is not entirely clear, but there was definitely more going on than the pesukim seem to indicate.

The midrashic literature attempts to fill in the gaps. Here is one such midrash from Berachos 50a: 

Rebbi Meir says: From where do we know that even fetuses in their mothers’ wombs said [the] shirah (i.e. the song of praise at Yam Suf)? As it is stated, “In assemblies bless God; [bless] God, O you who stem from the fountain (mekor) of Israel” (Tehilim 68:27). 

“Mekor” is an equivocal term which means “fountain” in the context of the pasuk, but can also mean “womb.” Rebbi Meir expounds on this dual-meaning to teach that the fetuses in the wombs of the Jewish mothers at Yam Suf sang shirah, along with the rest of Bnei Yisrael.

There are obvious problems with taking this midrash literally. Fetuses in their mothers’ wombs wouldn't have been aware of the miracle, nor would they be able to comprehend it, nor would they be able to sing shirah. The question is: What does this midrash mean? What idea are we supposed to gain from this?

The Rashba – one of the the most prolific Rishonim (medieval Rabbinic authorities) of the 13th century – wrote a commentary on the midrashim of the Talmud. Here is how he explains our midrash [1]: 

It is a well-known fact that pregnant women are prone to miscarry when they undergo frightening and traumatic experiences. When the Jews stood at Yam Suf, with the Egyptians were chasing after them to kill them, they were very scared. And when the sea was split for them and they needed to pass through its breaches, nature would dictate that the pregnant women among them would miscarry, were it not for the miracle He performed for them by strengthening their hearts, thereby saving all of the fetuses so that not a single one of them died, even though the nation was more than 600,000 men strong. This is the shirah that the fetuses said. In other words, it would have been appropriate for them to say shirah and to [sing] praise before Him for their salvation. 

This, in my opinion, is a great example of interpreting a midrash in a manner that is rational, conservative, and in line with the pasuk on which the midrash is based. The Rashba doesn’t interpret the whole thing as an allegory. He only makes one move: instead of saying that the fetuses actually said shirah, he explains that it would have been appropriate for them to say shirah. He then infers what type of miracle would warrant such a shirah, and in doing so, brings out an easy-to-overlook aspect of the geulah which warrants our recognition and appreciation. Not only did Hashem miraculously save the adults and children of Bnei Yisrael from death at the hands of the Egyptians, but He also spared the Jewish women from undue distress, thereby saving the about-to-be-born generation by means of an additional miracle. 

[1] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Aderet (Rashba), Chidushei ha’Rashba al ha’Shas: Peirushei ha’Hagados, Berachos 50a

Parashas Bo: The Undogly Miracle

Here is another "newsletter" Dvar Torah, originally published in January 2014. As you'll see, I took a risk in what I wrote. I hope it paid off! 

Artwork: Watchwolf, by Kev Walker

Parashas Bo: The Undogly Miracle

Let us examine an often overlooked aspect of makkas bechoros (the plague of the firstborn), namely, the Miracle of the Quiet Dogs: 

Moshe said: Thus said Hashem, “At around midnight I shall go out in the midst of Mitzrayim. Every firstborn in the land of Mitzrayim shall die, from the firstborn of Paroh who sits on his throne to the firstborn of the maidservant who is behind the millstone, and all the firstborn of beast. There shall be a great outcry in the entire land of Mitzrayim, such as there has never been and such as there shall never be again. But against all of Bnei Yisrael, no dog shall whet its tongue (i.e. bark), against neither man nor beast, so that you shall know that Hashem will have differentiated between Mitzrayim and Yisrael” (Shemos 11:4-7). 

This “silencing of the dogs” was clearly a miracle. When people are dropping dead, the entire society is in a panic, and the slaves are escaping, the dogs tend to bark.

The question is: What was the purpose of this miracle? The pasuk seems to indicates that this miracle was intended to show that Hashem differentiates between Mitzrayim and Yisrael – but wasn't makkas bechoros, itself, a sufficient demonstration of this point? Was it really necessary for Hashem to kill every Egyptian firstborn and put their dogs on mute?

In Parashas Mishpatim we encounter another pasuk involving dogs. The pasuk says: “People of holiness shall you be to Me; you shall not eat flesh of an animal that was torn (treifah) in the field; to the dog shall you throw it” (ibid. 22:30). Halachically, this pasuk is the source of the Torah prohibition against eating treifah. Although the word “treifah” in the vernacular has come to refer to any non-kosher food, the halachic term “treifah” refers to meat from an animal which suffers a life-threatening physical defect, such as a mortal wound or a terminal illness. Even if such an animal receives a kosher shechitah (slaughter), its meat is considered “treifah” and is prohibited by Torah law. This pasuk teaches us that the Torah only prohibits us from eating the meat. We are permitted to derive other types of hanaah (benefit) from it. For this reason, the pasuk says that we are allowed to benefit from treifah by using it as dog food.

The question is: Why does the pasuk explicitly tell us to throw our treifah to the dogs? Halachically, we are permitted to dispose of our treifah in any number of other ways: by feeding it to other animals, selling it for profit, giving it to our non-Jewish neighbors, etc. Why dog food, specifically?

According to the plain pshat, this was the most common way to dispose of treifah. Rashi [1], however, cites a midrash which links the pasuk in Mishpatim to our pasuk in Bo: 

This teaches us that Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu doesn't withhold reward from any creature, as it is stated: “But against all of Bnei Yisrael, no dog shall whet its tongue.” Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu said, “Give [the dog] its reward.”

If we take this midrash at face value, we are confronted with a number of problems. First of all, there is no concept of sachar v’onesh (reward and punishment) in the animal kingdom [2]. Only a creature with a tzelem Elokim is subject to sachar v’onesh. That being said, how are we to understand the notion of Hashem “rewarding” the dogs with treifah? Secondly, the whole concept of sachar v’onesh only makes sense when dealing with beings who possess free will, and dogs don’t have free will! The dogs in Egypt didn't choose not to bark. Hashem miraculously stopped them from barking! Moreover, the dogs that get this “reward” of treifah aren't even the same dogs that obeyed Hashem in Mitzrayim! In fact, we didn't even receive the halachos of treifah until after Yetziat Mitzrayim! Last, but not least, this “reward” isn't very dependable in its structure. There isn't any halachic obligation to feed our treifah to the dogs – only a halachic suggestion.

The answer to all of these questions is ... I have no idea! That’s right: no answers this time. 

I’ll bet you thought that the purpose of this dvar Torah was to give you an idea on the parshah. In truth, the purpose of this dvar Torah was to teach an important lesson in Torah methodology, and that lesson is: you can’t always solve all of the problems the first time you learn through a sugya (topic of study).

We will conclude with some advice from the Rambam [3] on dealing with situations like this:

When you encounter a statement of Chazal which seems to conflict with reason, you will pause, consider it, and realize that this utterance must be a riddle or a parable. You will sleep on it, trying anxiously to grasp its logic and its expression, so that you may find its genuine intellectual intention and lay hold of a genuine concept. 

What else can a person do if the answers are not forthcoming? The Rambam writes [4]: 

If Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu removes the veil from the mind of the one whom He desires, the one who has toiled in his study, such a person will understand [the secrets of Torah] according to the strength of his intellect. Regarding the study of Torah and one’s endeavors therein, a person must direct his heart to Hashem and to pray before Him, and to supplicate that He grant him knowledge and help him and reveal to him the mysteries hidden in the holy writings. Such do we find by David ha'Melech, who did so when he said: “Uncover my eyes and I will behold wonders from Your Torah!" (Tehilim 119:18).

May Hashem grant us the insight to answer these questions and appreciate His infinite wisdom! And if any of you are zocheh (meritorious) to answer these questions, please email me your ideas!

[1] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Shemot 22:30

[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Guide for the Perplexed 1:2 and 3:16.

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Sanhedrin, Perek Chelek

[4] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Introduction to the Commentary on the Mishnah

Parashas Vaeira: Do You Believe in Magic?

Originally posted in December 2013.

Artwork: Jace the Mind Sculptor, by Jason Chan

Parashas Vaeira: Do You Believe in Magic?

In Parashas Vaeira the Torah recounts the first of the many miracles performed by Moshe in Egypt:

Moshe came with Aharon to Paroh and they did so, as Hashem had commanded; Aharon cast down his staff before Paroh and before his servants, and it became a snake. Paroh, too, summoned his wise men and sorcerers, and they, too - the necromancers of Egypt - did so with their magic. Each one cast down his staff and they became snakes; and the staff of Aharon swallowed their staffs. The heart of Paroh was strong and he did not heed them, as Hashem had spoken. (Shemos 7:10-13)

The question is: Did Paroh's sorcerers do real magic? The answer to this question is a machlokes Rishonim (a disagreement between medieval authorities). 

Some Rishonim, such as the Rambam, Ibn Ezra, and Radak, maintain that there is no such thing as “real magic.” All instances of magic, sorcery, and occult practices mentioned by the Torah were nothing but illusions and trickery, whether by sleight of hand or by sleight of mind. For the sake of simplicity, we will refer to this position as “the Rambam’s view,” [1] since he was more vocal about his position on this matter than many of the other Rishonim.

Other Rishonim, such as the Ramban, Sefer ha’Chinuch, and Rashi, maintain that magic – at least, some forms of magic – are real, and involve tremendous chochmah (wisdom). Of course, they do not believe that magic involve powers other than Hashem. Rather, they conceive of magic as a method of manipulating natural phenomena in “unnatural” ways. This may be compared to the act of “hacking” a computer program: the program was designed to be used in a certain way, but the potential for the other uses exists within its code, and if one knows programming language, he can change the program to be used in an “unnatural” manner – that is, in a manner contrary to the intent of the program’s original designer. We will refer to this position as “the Ramban’s view,” since he was one of the most vocal opponents of the Rambam’s view.

Last but not least, there are Rishonim who are in doubt. They acknowledge both sides of the issue, but admit that they don’t know which side is correct. One of these Rishonim is the Ralbag [2], who writes:

I maintain that these “wise men [of Egypt]” were the men who were knowledgeable in the chochmas Mitzrayim (Egyptian wisdom). This chochmah enabled its practitioners to produce acts of sorcery to bring about strange and unnatural phenomena. They either (a) perform illusions which cause people to think they are doing what they are not actually doing; or (b) they devise natural mechanisms to produce strange phenomena that appear to be acts of sorcery; or (c) they did these strange actions by means of actual sorcery – that is, assuming these things are possibly by way of actual sorcery. Today, however, we lack knowledge of the nature and character of this [Egyptian] “sorcery,” and so we have not seen fit to discuss it.

Whenever I present this machlokes between the Rambam and the Ramban to my students, I am inevitably asked two questions: “How do we know which view is correct?” and “What do you believe?”

My answer to the first question is: analyze each of the theories in depth, evaluate their relative strengths and weaknesses, and arrive at a conclusion with your own mind. If you are unable to conduct a full investigation or are unable to arrive at a conclusion, the most intellectually honest position to hold is that of the Ralbag, who said, “I don’t know.” Do not be intellectually irresponsible and adopt whichever belief you find most emotionally pleasing or the most stimulating to your imagination and fantasy.

My answer to the second question, “What do you believe?” is a bit more nuanced than the two basic Rishonic positions outlined above. I will say, without hesitation, that I believe the Rambam’s view to be correct. I do not believe that there is or ever was such a thing as “real magic,” and anything that appears to be real magic is the product of trickery, imagination, and/or ignorance. Not only that, but I maintain that if the Ramban were alive today, he would agree with the Rambam. There would be no machlokes.

In order to understand why this is the case, we need to understand why the Ramban believed in magic in the first place. The answer is not simply “Because the Torah talks about people doing magic, and prohibits magic, so magic must be real!” After all, the Rambam and other Rishonim were also aware of the references to magic in the Torah, and they still maintained that magic is fake.

The Ramban’s clearest statement of his reasons for believing in occult practices (such as magic, astrology, omen-reading, etc.) can be found in his commentary on Devarim 18:9. He writes that we ought to believe in these phenomena because “we cannot deny things [that] have been done publicly in the sight of witnesses” which are based on “empirically verified science” – that is to say, they have been confirmed by observation and experience. Scientists [3] at the time of the Ramban believed in these occult phenomena, and the Ramban relied on their conclusions. To deny magic would be to reject science and sense observation [4], which is the basis of everything – including our acceptance of Torah.

The Ramban’s true position is now clear. Just as he relied on the empirical conclusions of the scientists in his times, so too, if he were alive today, he would embrace the empirical conclusions of modern day scientists. To my knowledge, there is absolutely no scientific evidence to support a belief in magic and the occult. Scientists today hold by the view expressed by the Rambam over 800 years ago:

Anyone who believes in these and similar things and, in his heart, holds that they are true and scientific but forbidden by the Torah, is nothing but a fool with a deficient mind, who belongs to the same class with others whose intellects are immature. Intelligent people, however, whose rationality is intact, know by clear proofs that all these practices which the Torah prohibited have no scientific basis but are senseless and empty; and that only those with deficient minds are attracted by these follies and, for their sake, leave the ways of truth.

In the Ramban’s time, the evidence wasn't so clear. To deny magic was to take a stance on what was regarded as a two-sided scientific dispute. Today, however, there are no two sides. In this day and age, to believe in magic is to reject science and to deny sense observation. That, we can be sure, is a stance that the Ramban would never take, and would never advocate. 

[1] See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Hilchos Avodah Zarah 11:16; Commentary on the Mishnah, Maseches Avodah Zarah 4:6; Letter to the Rabbis of Montepellier

[2] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 7:11 (Beur ha’Milos)

[3] There wasn’t any “science” in Ramban’s time. They called it “natural philosophy.” I’m speaking in the vernacular.

[4] This isn't the only instance of the Ramban basing his interpretation of Chumash on empirical evidence. In our dvar Torah on Parashas Noach we saw that the Ramban relied on the explanation of rainbows given by the Greek scientists, even when their words undermined the plain pshat of the pesukim. The Ramban wrote: “We are compelled to believe the words of the Greek [scientists] that rainbows are a natural phenomenon resulting from the sun’s rays passing through moist air, etc.”

Parashas Shemos: Seventy Souls and Seventy Perspectives

Originally written as a "newsletter dvar Torah" for the general populace, and posted in January 2012.

Seventy Souls and Seventy Perspectives

The second chapter of Sefer Shemos begins with the birth of Moshe Rabbeinu: “A man went from the house of Levi and he took a daughter of Levi. The woman conceived and gave birth to a son.” [1] This woman is subsequently identified as Yocheved. [2] 

The birth of Yocheved poses a difficulty in light of an earlier pasuk: “All the people of Yaakov’s household who came to Egypt were seventy.” [3] The Gemara notes the difficulty that the Chumash only lists 69 individuals. The Gemara answers by identifying the 70th individual as Yocheved, explaining that her name was omitted from the list because she “came to Egypt” in her mother’s womb and was “born between the walls” as Bnei Yisrael entered Egypt. [4] 

This Gemara leads us to an astounding conclusion. Based on the timeline in the Chumash, it turns out that Yocheved was 130 years old when she gave birth to Moshe! [5]

Rashi and Ramban take this Gemara at face value, as literal fact. [6] They maintain that the birth of Moshe to the 130-year-old Yocheved was a miracle. Indeed, the Gemara itself refers to her birth as a miracle. [7] Ibn Ezra and Ralbag disagree. They argue that that if the Torah went out of its way to mention the miraculous birth of Yitzchak to the 90-year-old Sarah, then it certainly would have mentioned the miraculous birth of Moshe to a 130-year-old Yocheved. [8] Ralbag adds that the Torah’s makes it a point to publicize miracles by mentioning them explicitly, since miracles are a cornerstone of our belief in God. [9]

How, then, do Ibn Ezra and Ralbag explain the aforementioned Gemara, which openly states that Moshe’s birth was a miracle? Their answer is simple: they interpret this Gemara as a non-literal midrash. Ralbag theorizes that the midrash was written “for the benefit of the masses, to establish in their hearts the power of Hashem’s ability to do miracles.” How do they explain the fact that the Chumash asserts that 70 souls went down to Egypt, but the pesukim only list 69 names? – Their answer is simple: by including Yaakov himself in the total of 70. And what about Yocheved’s Age? – Ralbag explains that if we assume Yocheved was born at the end of Levi’s life, then she would have only been 58 years old when she gave birth to Moshe; while this might be a late age to have a child, it would not require us to posit a miracle.

This machlokes provides us with the opportunity for a valuable methodology lesson. People often invoke the principle of “shivim panim l’Torah” ("there are seventy faces/perspectives to the Torah") [10] when confronted by divergent views. Unfortunately, the application of this principle is often misunderstood. Some people use “shivim panim l’Torah” as a way of saying, “All views are equally valid.” In my opinion, this represents an incorrect understanding of the principle. Rather, “shivim panim l’Torah” means that it is possible to have multiple valid theories to explain a certain set of facts. In some subjects – such as halacha, and certain areas of ethics and politics – conflicting theories can be equally true. But in other subjects – such as science, philosophy, metaphysics, and history – there is only one truth, since there is only one reality.

Our machlokes serves as an example of the latter. Does “shivim panim l’Torah” mean that the opposing views of these Rishonim are both true? No. That would be impossible. Either Yocheved was 130 years old when she gave birth to Moshe, or she 58. Both cannot be true. Rather, “shivim panim l’Torah” means that both views are based on sound theories. Both theories are logical, both are supported by solid evidence and reasoning, and both offer valuable insights into Torah. It is in that sense that we can invoke “shivim panim la’Torah.” 

[1] Sefer Shemos 2:1-2
[2] ibid. 6:20; Bamidbar 26:59
[3] Sefer Bereishis 46:27
[4] Talmud Bavli: Maseches Bava Basra 123b
[5] Given that the Jews lived in Egypt for 210 years, and Moshe was 80 years old when he spoke to Paroh, he must have been born 130 after the arrival of Bnei Yisrael in Egypt. Thus, if Yocheved was born “between the walls” as Bnei Yisrael entered Egypt, she must have been 130 years old when she gave birth to Moshe.
[6] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 2:1; Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 46:15, 26
[7] Talmud Bavli: Maseches Bava Basra 119b-120a
[8] Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 46:27
[9] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Shemos 1:7

Plans for Winter 2016

Dear readers, 

January 2016 is right around the corner. While I still do not have time to fully commit to regular blogging, I would like to at least make an effort to resume my endeavor to edit and transfer blog posts from the old blog to the new one. I'm going to start with the realistic goal of transferring the weekly divrei Torah posts, and establish that as my new routine for 2016. If that should happen to lead me to edit and transfer other old posts - great! And if my renewed involvement in the blog should happen to lead me to actually write an occasional new post - even better! 

No promises. But if you're a fan, then keep your eye on the blog.

- Kol ha'Seridim

Artwork: Enduring Renewal, by Harold McNeill

Yom ha'Kippurim 5776: Fasting as "Literal" Self-sacrifice

Here is a hastily written blog post which - thank God - I have been able to finish shortly before Yom ha'Kippurim. Pardon any typos and errors. I didn't have time edit this. Enjoy!

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Artwork: Gaze of Justice, by John Avon

Yom ha'Kippurim 5776: Fasting as "Literal" Self-sacrifice

The Question

The Abravanel offers an interesting explanation of the taanis (fast) on Yom ha'Kippurim. He writes: 

The benefit of fasting and abstaining from melachah on this Sanctified Day [of Yom ha'Kippurim] is clear, for through this, the soul withdraws [its energy from attachment to the physical] to cling to Hashem (exalted is He). The physical component of a person is drawn to transient things, and when it becomes weakened, the part of him which desires permanent things - namely, the intellect - prevails. 

The Kabbalists mention that there are metaphysical forces above which consume the korban when the [miraculous] fire descends upon the mizbeach (altar). Corresponding to these forces, below, are the limbs of man which consume his fat and blood, by means of the vital heat within him. Therefore, they commanded that on a day of taanis, a person should focus his spirit and his soul as if he were a mizbach kaparah (altar of atonement) on which his own fat and blood are burned from his own [vital] heat within him, in service of his Creator. 

They instituted [a practice] that a person should say during his fast: "[Master of worlds, it is revealed and known before You that during the time when the Beis ha'Mikdash stood, a man would sin and bring a korban, and he would only offer its fat and blood, and it would atone for him. And now I have sat in my taanis, and my own fat and blood have been diminished.] May it be Your will that the diminution of my fat and blood be [as if I offered it before You on the mizbeach, and You favored me."]

And in the Midrash Rus they said that Rebbi Nechunya ben ha'Kaneh said to the Sages: "My sons! [I swear by] your lives that there is no korban which finds favor before God more than the heart of man which is burned on his taanis."  

There's quite a bit to work with here, but this year I'd like to focus on just one question: What is the idea behind diminishing one's own fat and blood through taanis as a sort of quasi-literal "self-sacrifice" comparable to a korban? Sure, the idea has a nice religio-poetic ring to it, but I would like to understand the idea behind it, if possible.

Ramban on Korbanos

When I first started working on this question with my chavrusas, the first idea that came to mind was the Ramban's explanation of korbanos (I don't have time to look up the original source right now). Ramban writes:

Because human deeds are carried to completion by thought, speech, and action, Hashem (blessed is He) commanded that when a person sins, he is to bring an offering and rest his hands upon it – which constitutes action; he is to confess [his sin] with his mouth – which constitutes speech; and he is to burn in the fire [of the altar] the entrails and the kidneys, which are the vessels of thought and desire, and the legs, which correspond to a man’s hands and feet, that do all his work. The blood is to be sprinkled on the altar, corresponding to his blood, which gives him life – so that a man will consider, as he does all these [acts], that he sinned toward God with his body and his spirit, and he deserves that his blood should be spilled and his body burned – if not for the kindness of the Creator, that He has taken from him the offering as exchange and substitute, that its blood should be instead of his blood, one life in place of another.

In other words, the Ramban views the korban as a substitute for the sinner. In truth, when a person sins, he should be the one who forfeits his life on the altar. Thankfully, Hashem - in His abundant kindness - allows him to sacrifice a korban in his place. By recognizing the nature of this substitution, the korban may serve as a vehicle of kaparah. 

If we take this as our model for how korbanos work, then it isn't too difficult to see the connection to the Abravanel's explanation of taanis. In contrast to korbanos, which are a substitute for sacrificing our own flesh and blood on the altar, a taanis is an actual act of sacrificing our own flesh and blood on "the altar" of the body. 

The Problematic Assumption

Something has always bothered me about this Ramban. Specifically, I am bothered by what this implies about Hashem's justice. To put it bluntly: I am troubled by the implication that unintentional* sins are inherently chayav misah (liable for death), and that Hashem is just "waiting" to take the life of anyone who makes a mistake.

Why do I find this to be problematic? Because this does not sound like the God we worship. The God we worship is Av ha'Rachamim. The God we worship is "a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger, and abundant in kindness and truth, preserver of kindness for thousands of generations, forgiver of iniquity, willful sin, and error, etc." (Shemos 34:6-7). The God we worship is not eager to kill those who err. To the contrary, Hashem says, "Why should you die, O House of Israel? For I do not desire the death of the one who should die - the word of Hashem-Elokim. Do teshuvah and live!" (Yechezkel 18:32). These messages of mercy are repeated throughout the Tanach, and are frequently referenced in the tefilos and piyutim of the Yomim Noraim. 

When I have brought up this objection to my chavrusas in the past, the response is usually something along the lines of: "Of course Hashem doesn't actually hold a person liable for death for doing an unintentional cheit! The Ramban is speaking within the framework of 'absolute middas ha'din.' But Hashem also relates to us with the middas ha'rachamim, and that is why He doesn't kill us!" 

To my mind, such explanations sidestep the real problem, namely, the notion that Hashem's middas ha'din dictates that those who err should be killed. It's very nice to say that the middas ha'rachamim overrides this "absolute middas ha'din," but I'm still bothered by the notion that the middas ha'din demands death in the first place. 

Hashem created us with free will, and it is within the nature of a free-will being to make mistakes and bad decisions, as Shlomo ha'Melech said, "For there is no righteous man on earth who does [only] good and does not sin" (Koheles 7:20). Even within a strictly middas ha'din framework (i.e. "Bereishis bara Elokim es ha'shamayim ve'es ha'aretz, etc."), man will sin, and if such sins are chayav misah, then the middas ha'din framework is built to fail! 

One might counter by saying/repeating, "But that's why Hashem relates to us with middas ha'rachamim!" And then we'd run in circles. At the end of the day, you are either intellectually comfortable with the notion of a "zero tolerance" absolute middas ha'din which is mitigated by middas ha'rachamim, or you are not, and I am not. Hence, my trouble with this reading of the Ramban.

* I say "unintentional" because one can only bring a korban to atone for unintentional transgressions - not intentional or rebellious ones.

An Alternative Understanding of the Ramban

I would like to propose an alternative understanding of this Ramban which, to my mind, is more metaphysically sound than the superficial reading of his view cited above, and which might also help us to understand the Abravanel's explanation of taanis. 

In order to understand the Ramban, let us turn to the opening words of the Rambam's Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah:

The foundation of foundations and the pillar of all science is to know that there is a Primary Existence, Who brought all of existence into existence, and all of the existences from heaven and earth and everything in between only exist from the Reality of His Existence. And if, theoretically, He did not Exist, nothing else would be able to exist. And if, theoretically, all of the other existences besides Him didn’t exist, He alone would Exist, and He would not be negated by their negation, for all the existences need Him, but He (blessed is He) does not need them, nor any one of them.

Hashem is the One and Only Independent Existence. He does not need any other existence in order to Exist. We, on the other hand, are contingent existences, and are absolutely dependent on the True Existence for our existence. Where it not for His will for us to exist, our existence would cease.

This is the meaning of "olam chesed yibaneh - the world is built on kindness" (Tehilim 99:3). In other words, Hashem didn't need to create the universe, and the universe has no claim on Him. Rather, His creation of the universe is purely an act of chesed. The same is true of His continual maintenance of the universe and everything in it - including us. In other words, we have no inherent "right" to exist. Our existence is granted to us, by His chesed. 

Everything in the universe exists by virtue of His will, and in accordance with His will. There is only one exception: human beings. As the only creatures who have free will, we can choose to go against His will, thereby undermining the basis of our own existence.

With this yesod, we can make a critical move to modify our understanding of the Ramban's idea. Ready for it? Replace the Ramban's references to "death" with "non-existence." In other words, when we violate Hashem's will through cheit, it's not that "we deserve to die" in the sense of "Hashem wants to kill us." Rather, since we only exist by virtue of Hashem's will, when we go against His will, we are undercutting the means by which we exist.

In truth, it is unbelievable that we should continue to exist after contravening His will. Can physical matter continue exist in violation of the laws of physics? Of course not! Then how can we contingent existences continue to exist when we subvert that contingency by violating His laws? That is where the middas ha'rachamim comes in. Hashem allows us to exist even though we inherently have no right to exist, and even though we have deviated from His will. As Chazal teach: Hashem's mercy is before the cheit, and Hashem's mercy is after the cheit.

According to the Ramban, korbanos are designed to remind us of this idea. It's not that Hashem would like to slaughter us on the altar when we make a mistake. Rather, when we are forced to recognize the contingency of the animal's existence when we watch it being slaughtered and offered on the mizbeach, we are compelled - by virtue of the similarities between ourselves and the animal - to recognize the contingency of our own existence, and to realize that we only exist through Hashem's chesed.

Back to the Abravanel

Now perhaps we can understand the Abravanel's idea of taanis as a "sacrifice" of one's own fat and blood. On a simple level, a taanis forces us to recognize our own dependency on Hashem's systems of sustenance within nature, in the sense of, "Poseach es yadecha u'masbia l'chol chai ratzon - You open  Your hand and fulfill the desire of every living thing" (Tehilim 145:16). The experience of fasting forces us to face the fact that we are unable to live without Hashem's provisions - that our very biological lives are dependent on His will, as expressed in His systems in nature.

But within this lies a reminder of a deeper truth: the fact that we, and the entire physical universe we inhabit, are contingent existences. In other words, not only is it true that within the physical world, we are dependent on Hashem's systems to survive - but rather, the entire physical world itself, with all of its systems, is dependent on Hashem's will for its existence.

When we refrain from eating and drinking, and our own physical matter begins to diminish (read: to fade away into non-existence), this brings to mind our own nature - that we are beings whose existence is not intrinsic, which is utterly dependent on the will of our Creator. When we fast, and we reflect on the fact that our physical matter is vanishing - passing from existence into non-existence - this alerts us to the realization that our lives are bordering that tenuous line between existence and non-existence. As much as we would like to imagine that we have an inherent right to exist, and that we are a "Primary Existence" which is independent and secure, we know that this is not true.** This recognition facilitates our teshuvah, and brings us to kaparah.

Lehavdil, this reminds me of the scene at the end of Back to the Future, where Marty watches in horror as his own hand begins to fade away into non-existence. He realizes that his interference with the space-time continuum has jeopardized his own existence - that his existence is not something he can take for granted, but is something which is highly contingent. His sudden awareness of his own contingency fills him with a powerful sense of urgency - the need to do something to restore and stabilize his own existence.

In Marty's case, his fate rested in the hands of someone else, and he was helpless. That is not true in our case. Although we may have undermined the basis of our own existence by going against the will of our Creator, we have been granted a remedy: teshuvah. So long as we are alive, we can change our ways, and realign ourselves with His will.

The time for Yom ha'Kippurim is approaching fast, and I'm afraid I must end the blog post here. I hope that this afforded at least some insight into the themes and mitzvos of the day. Have a gmar chasimah tovah, and a good new year! 

** Indeed, the entire day of Yom ha'Kippurim revolves around the Shem Havaya - the name of God which refers to His Existence. It is imperative that we recognize the stark difference between His Existence and our existence, and the relationship between the two. I wanted to write more about this, but I didn't have time. Maybe next year - if I am granted existence for that long!

Yom ha'Din and Yom ha'Teruah

This is my attempt to write up a burgeoning insight about Rosh ha'Shanah - one which I feel is quite big, but which I haven't yet gone over with all of my chavrusas yet. I thought it would be best to write it up now, so that I can gain some clarity before Rosh ha'Shanah, and so that those who read it can think about it over the Yom Tov, and maybe provide feedback during the Aseres Ymei Teshuvah. Enjoy!

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Artwork: Time Sieve, by Franz Vohwinkel

Yom ha'Din and Yom ha'Teruah

Rosh ha'Shanah in the Written Torah

One cannot read through the Torah's presentation of the moadim (holidays) in Parashas Emor without noticing the sparseness of the Torah's treatment of Rosh ha'Shanah. When discussing the other moadim the pesukim (verses) go into detail about the laws and themes of the day, but when it comes to Rosh ha'Shanah, the pesukim have barely anything to say about the nature of the day:

In the seventh month, on the first of the month, there shall be a rest day for you, a zichron teruah (remembrance of a shofar-cry), a holy convocation. You shall not do any laborious work, and you shall offer a fire-offering to Hashem.

The holiday is not given a name, nor is its character mentioned, nor are any laws explicitly spelled out. Even the central mitzvah - hearing the sound of the shofar - is barely alluded to. All we have to work with are two words: zichron teruah.

Perhaps the most shocking omission is the fact that nowhere does the Written Torah identify Rosh ha'Shanah as the Yom ha'Din (Judgment Day). In fact, there is no reference anywhere in the Written Torah to a "judgment day" of any kind. This fact is mentioned only in the Oral Torah, but one would not even be aware of it by reading the pesukim. 

What are we to make of all this? How are we meant to view Rosh ha'Shanah based on its presentation in the Written Torah, and how should we go about reconciling this view with the additional - and seemingly essential - information provided by the Oral Torah? 

We will leave these questions aside for the time being and focus on a more important question: What is the Yom ha'Din? Every Jew who grows up going to Rosh ha'Shanah services has some notion of judgment day. The liturgy is rife with imagery: the True Judge sitting on His throne of judgment, the Book of Life and the Book of Death open before Him, a judgment being pronounced which determines the course of events for the rest of the year, the final verdict being sealed on Yom ha'Kippurim, and so on. To what extent do these images reflect the reality of what happens on Rosh ha'Shanah, and to what extent are they merely byproducts of our own imagination? 

This year I stumbled upon an explanation which radically changed my view of the Yom ha'Din. That explanation was provided by the Abravanel, in his commentary on the Torah. I will do my best to convey that view to you now, and I will do so in my usual style of translating the text and commenting on it step by step.

Rosh ha'Shanah as Yom ha'Din

The Abravanel begins by explaining the nature of the din (judgment) that happens on Rosh ha'Shanah. You will quickly notice that the Abravanel is working with certain premises that are rooted in Aristotelian physics, which we now know to be false. In my treatment of the Abravanel's explanation I will do my best to adapt his worldview to one which is consistent with our current scientific model: 

I have already explained in Parashas Bo, in the Parashas ha'Chodesh, that Rosh Chodesh Tishrei is the beginning of the year and its true starting-point, based on the nature of the physical universe, based on the motion of the sun, the moon, and the celestial sphere of the constellations. 

The starting-point of any phenomenon provides us with indications about the [future] occurrences which pertain to that phenomenon, based on the celestial circumstances at that initial time. For example, just as the celestial circumstances at the time of a person's birth will indicate all of the future occurrences of his life, so too, the celestial circumstances at the starting-point of Rosh ha'Shanah will indicate all of the occurrences of that year.

This is true with regards to the occurrences which pertain to the world as a whole, including satiety and famine, health and sickness, death and life, war and peace, and similarly for all other things which pertain to the world as a whole. This is also true with regards to each and every country within the inhabited world ... and with regards to the particulars of each and every person, in accordance with the circumstances of his birth, i.e. this one will die, this one will live, this one will profit, this one will lose, and likewise with all similar circumstances. 

Let's stop here for a second and examine the Abravanel's premises:

1. Premise #1: Rosh ha'Shanah (i.e. Rosh Chodesh Tishrei) is the "beginning" of the year in an objective, physical, astronomical sense. In other words, the Abravanel maintains that Rosh ha'Shanah isn't merely the beginning of the year from a "halachic perspective," or even a "Jewish perspective," but from a scientific perspective. According to his understanding, this "onset of the year," which happens at Rosh Chodesh Tishrei, is accompanied by actual physical effects, due to the earth's alignment with the "celestial forces" (read: laws of nature) and these physical causes affect the inhabitants of earth.
   
   To the best of my knowledge, there is no corollary in modern science for this concept of an "objective beginning" to astronomical cycles. Although this would seem to deal an early deathblow to the Abravanel's theory, I believe that we can salvage his view in spite of the fact that one of its major premises is false. I have decided to address this point in an addendum, which should be read after familiarizing yourself with the Abravanel's full theory. 
   
   
2. Premise #2: The beginning stage of any phenomenon indicates and determines all future occurrences associated with that phenomenon. This premise is based on a highly deterministic view of nature which still holds true today - at least, for all practical, everyday purposes (i.e. ignoring quantum). 
   
   
   I will illustrate this view with a mashal. Imagine an elaborate Rube Goldberg machine. If you have complete knowledge of how every part of the machine is initially set up, then you will be able to predict exactly what will happen when the chain-reaction is set in motion. The same is true for more complex reactions. For example, if you were to fill a room with mouse traps set with ping pong balls, and if you had a supercomputer that could measure the exact weight, position, and subtle variations among all the mouse traps and ping pong balls, then you would be able to determine exactly where each ping pong ball would end up once the chain reaction was set off. The only difference between the determinability of the Rube Goldberg outcome and that of the ping pong balls is in their relative quantitative complexity; from an objective standpoint, the outcome is determinable in both cases, even though the latter is too complex for us to be able to figure out.
   
   What is true of the Rube Goldberg device and the ping pong scenario is true of every physical thing: if you know the initial circumstances of something, and you know the laws which govern that thing, then you will be able to predict, from the outset, everything that will happen in the future.
   
   
3. Premise #3: The circumstances at the beginning of the year indicate and determine all future occurrences of that year - globally, regionally, and individualistically. In other words, the Abravanel views the entire terrestrial realm - with its multitude of complex systems and their countless moving parts - as one big Rube Goldberg device. If you were to take a snapshot at how things are at the onset of the year, on Rosh Chodesh Tishrei, that snapshot would indicate everything that will happen throughout the course of that year. Thus, Rosh Chodesh Tishrei is not only a Rosh ha'Shanah calendrically, but deterministically as well.

Got it? Even if you object to what the Abravanel is saying, or you don't buy my attempt to reframe the Abravanel's explanation in a manner that is palatable to the modern mind, then at least try to suspend your disbelief for long enough to hear his full explanation of the Yom ha'Din. This is where things get interesting:

Since Rosh Chodesh Tishrei is the [true] beginning of the year, which actually indicates and determines all of the occurrences of the [upcoming year], for this reason it is called Yom ha'Din and [Yom] ha'Mishpat, for it indicates what will be, and [indicates] the decree that is decreed from heaven for all occurrences of that year, good and bad - for the world as a whole, and for each and every country and people, and for each and every person. 

For this reason they established in the tefilah of the Yom Teruah these three types of mishpat (judgment). Regarding the mishpat of the world as a whole they established to say [in the berachah of Zichronos]: "You remember the deeds done in the universe and You recall all the creatures fashioned since the early times, etc." Regarding the mishpat of every country they established: "Regarding countries, it is said on this day which is destined for the sword and which for peace, which for hunger and which for abundance." Regarding the particular mishpat of every individual they established to say: "and creatures are recalled on it to remember them for life or death. Who is not recalled on this day? [For when the remembrance of everything fashioned comes before You: everyone's deed and appointment, the accomplishments of man's activity,] man's thoughts and schemes, and the motives behind man's deeds."

In other words, according to the Abravanel, the din on Rosh ha'Shanah is an entirely naturalistic phenomenon, having nothing to do with hashgachah pratis (individual providence). The terms "din" and "mishpat" of Rosh ha'Shanah refer to the natural outcomes which are determined by the laws of nature at the beginning of the new year. The "decrees" which are pronounced on Rosh ha'Shanah refer to the causes which are in place at the onset of the new year, and which are deterministically responsible for all effects and occurrences which happen that year.

Lest you suspect that I am reading some sort of Maimonidean view of hashgachah into the Abravanel's framework, the Abravanel goes on to state this point in the most explicit terms possible:

This din [of Rosh ha'Shanah] is NOT in accordance with the hashgachah pratis which comes specially from Him (blessed is He) to His loved ones and those who keep His commandments; rather, it is in accordance with hashgachah klalis (general providence) that is ordered by the celestial causes which relates to all creations in general manner.

Regarding this din and mishpat [Chazal] say in the mishnah: "all inhabitants of the world pass before Him like sheep, as it is stated, 'He fashions their hearts together'" (Rosh ha'Shanah 8a). In order to explain that this din is not in accordance with the hashgachah which relates to the entire nation [of Israel], the perfected one - R' Yochanan - said about this statement: "and all of them are examined [by God] in one glance." By "in one glance" he was referring to that celestial circumstance at the onset of Tishrei which determines all of the affairs of the inhabitants of the world ... This is the din of Rosh ha'Shanah, which pertains to every member of the human race. It is a natural phenomenon (davar tiv'i) in existence, in accordance with the effects of the celestial world on the terrestrial world.

There you have it: the din of Rosh ha'Shanah refers to the innumerable chains of cause-and-effect that are in place on Rosh Chodesh Tishrei and unfold throughout the year, and which determine all of the events that happen in the physical world. 

Now, you might be wondering, "If that's the din of Rosh ha'Shanah, what about the weighing of our zechuyos (merits) and avonos (iniquities), which Chazal discuss throughout their writings? What about the whole business of being inscribed in the Book of Life or the Book of Death? What about doing tefilah, teshuvah, and tzedakah to tear up the bad decree? If everything is set and determined from Rosh Chodesh Tishrei, then what are we doing during the Aseres Ymei Teshuvah (the Ten Days of Repentance)?" 

This brings us to the second part of this blog post ...

Rosh ha'Shanah as Yom Teruah

The Abravanel continues:

However, there is an additional dimension to this day, which is unique to the Jewish nation alone ... [In the case of the other nations and terrestrial entities,] everything which is determined by the celestial causes will necessarily come to be - no more and no less. But with the Jewish nation, this is not the case. Even though the celestial bodies create a potentiality and a predisposition for certain occurrences to befall them, these potentialities are not brought into actuality via the celestial causes ... but directly by Hashem (blessed is He), the Cause of causes ... The affairs and occurrences [of the Jewish people], both the good and the bad, are brought about jointly with hashgachah pratis, which negates the celestial causes on many occasions.

When the Jews do God's will, the celestial causes which indicate that harm [would befall them] are either completely negated by His hashgachah, or are transferred from one subject to another, as it is stated, "all of the bad maladies of Egypt that you know - He will not put them upon you, but will put them upon all your foes" (Devarim 7:15). But when the Jewish people are bad and sin, then even though the celestial causes may indicate that good [will befall them], they will not merit it, for He will negate it.

In other words, Klal Yisrael (the Jewish nation) is not exclusively under the governance of the natural law. Even though the din is set on Rosh ha'Shanah for the entire world - insofar as all natural chains of cause-and-effect are set into motion on that day - the fate of Klal Yisrael is not determined exclusively by that din. To the extent that we align ourselves with God's will, we will be saved via hashgachah pratis from the fate that would have naturally befallen us in accordance with hashgachah klalis. Conversely, even if we are predisposed to receive certain goods in accordance with hashgachah klalis, this good can be negated via hashgachah pratis if we fail to live in accordance with His will. 

And this is where shofar and the Yom Tov of Rosh ha'Shanah comes into the picture:

Since Rosh Chodesh Tishrei is the rosh ha'shanah, and the Yom ha'Din for the entire world - in which the celestial circumstances dictate everything that will happen for the entire year - for this reason, since Hashem desired to make Yisrael meritorious, He revealed to them that this is the day on which everything is determined, and on which the creatures are remembered for life or for death, and He commanded them to stand up for their lives and strive to save themselves and to escape from these celestial decrees, and that the only way to do this is to go out to greet God and to supplicate before Him and to cling to Him to ask Him not to abandon us to these celestial forces, but to take shelter in the concealment of His wings, since they are "the flock He pastures" (Tehilim 95:7) and "the measure of His inheritance" (Devarim 32:9).

This is the character of the mitzvah of yom teruah, He commanded us to sound tekiah and teruah on the shofar, which points to the idea of release and freedom - as if to say that [Bnei Yisrael] are free from the indications of the celestial causes, and in this sense He is our God, and there is none other, for He taught this to us as a reliable remedy to escape from the calamities which come about from the [celestial] arrangements. Therefore, He said, "It shall be a yom teruah for you" - in other words, this is a special chesed which He did for His nation; or [it means to say] that in spite of the fact that the din of Rosh ha'Shanah encompasses all human beings, nevertheless, the remedy of shofar and teshuvah which saves us from this celestial decree was uniquely given to Yisrael, as it is stated, "He relates His words to Yaakov, His statutes and His judgments to Yisrael. He did not do so for any other nation; such judgments - they know them not, halleluyah!" (Tehilim 147:19-20).

According to the Abravanel, Hashem - in His abundant kindness and mercy - revealed to His nation the nature of Rosh Chodesh Tishrei and gave Israel the tool of teruah b'shofar. The shofar, which signifies freedom and release (see Vayikra 25:8-10), is sounded on Rosh ha'Shanah to remind us that even though the fate of the world and its inhabitants may be determined by the celestial forces which are set into motion on the Yom ha'Din, we - the members of Klal Yisrael - can rise above these forces and forge our own destiny, by the decisions we make with our free will. By doing teshuvah and aligning ourselves with God's will, we can be saved from our predetermined natural fate through hashgachah pratis and avoid the harm that was set to befall us. By making the Rosh Chodesh Tishrei into a Yom Tov with mitzvos centered around the most fundamental ideas, Hashem has provided us with the best possible chances of circumventing the harm of the natural decrees. 

That is where the weighing of our zechuyos and avonos comes into the picture, as well as the Books of Life and Death, the Aseres Ymei Teshuvah, and all of the other Yomim Noraim elements which are expanded upon in Torah she'baal Peh. All of these things pertain not to the Yom ha'Din itself - which is entirely naturalistic - but to the hashgachic aids which Hashem gave us to escape from the harm that would befall us from that universal, naturalistic din. 

A Speculative Answer to Our Original Question

Before I encountered the Abravanel's explanation, I conceived of the Yom ha'Din and the weighing of zechuyos and avonos as the same thing. I was under the impression that Rosh ha'Shanah was a day of judgment, and that this judgment was a hashgachah pratis phenomenon which resulted in a "good" or a "bad" din depending on our zechuyos and avonos, as mitigated by our teshuvah, tefilah, and tzedakah during the Aseres Ymei Teshuvah. 

According to the Abravanel (or, at least, my understanding of the Abravanel), this picture is not accurate. According to him, there are two separate phenomena: on the one hand, there is the Yom ha'Din, which is a natural event that determines the course of natural cause-and-effect for the duration of the year; on the other hand, there is the Yom Tov of Rosh ha'Shanah, which was commanded by Hashem to provide us with an opportunity to rise above the aforementioned din (with the help of hashgachah pratis), thereby reshaping our own destiny. 

This, I believe, is why the Written Torah says nothing about the Yom ha'Din aspect of Rosh ha'Shanah. The Yom ha'Din is a reality, and although it is necessary to understand that reality - hence its inclusion in the Oral Torah - it is merely an astronomical phenomenon that happens, which is not directly tied to our observance of Torah and mitzvos. In contrast, what is tied to our observance of mitzvos is the Yom Teruah aspect of Rosh ha'Shanah - the means by which we can improve our ways, and the quality of life we experience. That is something worth mentioning. 

Perhaps a mashal will help. If you were to write a manual on How to Survive a Hurricane, you would not need to include a detailed meteorological explanation of how hurricanes form, how many types or hurricanes there are, what the natural conditions must be, etc. Why not? Because this is a practical handbook on How to Survive a Hurricane. The very premise of the book is that hurricanes can and will happen, and from a practical survival standpoint, it is irrelevant how, why, or even when hurricanes come about. These topics would only be touched upon insofar as they have a practical dimension, and can aid the reader in achieving the goal promised by the manual. The main focus of the manual would be the strategies and techniques which must be learned and implemented in order to survive. The meteorological background knowledge can be left for the students of science. In fact, when the hurricane sirens go off, and people find themselves needing to consult the manual, the inclusion of the meteorological information would distract the reader from focusing on the practical task at hand.  

The same is true here. The Yom ha'Din is something we have no control over, and will happen every year on Rosh Chodesh Tishrei, no matter what. If you want to understand the Yom ha'Din, consult your rebbi who teaches you the Oral Torah. The focus of the Written Torah is on what we can do to "survive" the Yom ha'Din, and all of that knowledge resides in the Yom Teruah aspect of the day, which is the only characteristic of the day that the Torah does mention. If the Written Torah explicitly raised the topic of the Yom ha'Din, that would pose a distraction from the practical task at hand. The mitzvah of the day demands that we involve ourselves in getting the most we can out of our teruah - not involving ourselves in the metaphysical or scientific study of the Yom ha'Din. That latter topic is certainly an important one, but is something that warrants its own investigation, separate from the objectives of the day itself. 

Concluding Thoughts

In my opinion, any insight into Torah which helps us develop from an immature view to a more mature understanding is worthy of celebration and gratitude to the Chonein l'adam daas. I am still working through this Abravanel and all of its implications, but already I feel that his view has enabled me to "level up" my understanding of the Yom ha'Din and its relationship to the Yom Teruah. 

I plan on spending this Rosh ha'Shanah thinking more into these ideas and furthering my understanding of the Abravanel, by myself and with my chavrusas (and rabbeim). For the time being, I hope this blog post has led you to new insights as well, which will result in "leveling up" from wherever you are currently holding.

May the insights we gain on this Rosh ha'Shanah indicate and determine the insights we will have in the year to come, God-willing. Shanah Tovah, and may you be inscribed in the Book of Life - whatever that means! 

Addendum: Resolving the Difficulty with the Abravanel's First Premise

Now, you might be wondering about the question we raised earlier when discussing the Abravanel's first premise: "How does this idea of a deterministic 'objective beginning of the yearly cycle' still valid in light of our current scientific model, in which is no 'objective beginning' of the year which occurs in Tishrei?" 

I don't know what the Abravanel would say, but I can tell you what I think. Whereas the Abravanel believed that a new "wave" of natural cause-and-effect is set into motion every Rosh Chodesh Tishrei, we maintain that this happened only once: during the Six Days of creation. We are still "riding that wave" of natural cause-and-effect, from the Big Bang until now. 

On Rosh ha'Shanah we reflect on the creation of the world (or the creation of man, if you prefer). We say, "Today is the birth[day] of the world. Today all creatures of the world stand in judgment." Perhaps we can modify the Abravanel's explanation like this: Rosh Chodesh Tishrei may not be a day on which new natural causes are set in motion, but it is certainly a day when we reflect on Maaseh Bereishis, which is when all natural causes were initially set in motion. 

With this small modification, the rest of the Abravanel's model of Yom ha'Din and Yom Teruah are rendered viable - the only difference being that the annual Rosh ha'Shanah in Tishrei is no longer an objective, physical, astronomical "starting point," but merely a halachically mandated time to reflect on the true "starting point." From a hashgachah pratis standpoint, nothing changes: we can still assume that there is some weighing of zechuyos and avonos which takes place on Rosh ha'Shanah, and that the effects of this weighing can save us from the din which was decreed from the true starting point of Maaseh Bereishis, for which our Rosh ha'Shanah is an annual reminder.

Of course, if we discover that there is a problem with positing that Rosh ha'Shanah does not correspond to an objective hashgachah klalis phenomenon in the physical universe, then we'll have to find some other solution. As of now, I don't see any way that the Abravanel's premise - as he understood it - can be accepted as true. Please feel free to try and change my mind.

Enjoy Yourself This Rosh ha'Shanah (an Aruch ha'Shulchan PSA)

Originally posted in September 2013. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Enjoy Yourself on Rosh ha'Shanah (an Aruch ha'Shulchan PSA)

It seems to me that there are many Jews who relate to Rosh ha'Shanah as a day of utter solemnity and gravity to the point where they forget that it's a Yom Tov with a mitzvah of simchah (rejoicing). The following is a translation of the Aruch ha'Shulchan, Orach Chayim 597:2, which addresses that mentality:

The Beis Yosef wrote: "[On Rosh ha'Shanah] we should eat, drink, and rejoice; and we shouldn't fast, neither on Rosh ha'Shanah nor on Shabbos Shuvah. However, we shouldn't eat to the point of complete satiation, nor should we behave frivolously; the fear of Hashem should be on our faces" (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chayim 597:1). 

The Maharshal wouldn't eat fish on Rosh ha'Shanah because he really liked them, but he wanted to diminish his physical desires in a specific way. They also don't wear chashuv clothing on Rosh ha'Shanah like they do on every other Yom Tov; instead, they wear white (Bach and Magen Avraham). 

We, on the other hand, are not accustomed to wear white on Rosh ha'Shanah, but only on Yom ha'Kippurim. Furthermore, we eat and drink [on Rosh ha'Shanah] just like on every other Yom Tov, as it is written: "He said to them [on Rosh ha'Shanah], 'Go, eat rich foods and drink sweet beverages, and send portions to those who have nothing prepared, for today is sacred to our Lord. Do not be sad; the enjoyment of Hashem is your strength!'" (Nechemiah 8:10). 

Only in one regard is Rosh ha'Shanah different from other Yomim Tovim: we extend our tefilah until after midday. 

Also, there are those who are accustomed not to sleep on the first day of Rosh ha'Shanah, based on a Yerushalmi which says, "One who sleeps on Rosh ha'Shanah - his mazal will sleep." We don't know where this Yerushalmi is. The Arizal wasn't worried about this and said that after the shofar blasts and after midday, the judgments have already been settled.

The Aruch ha'Shulchan acknowledges the opinions of Rav Yosef Karo and the Maharshal, who maintain that our rejoicing on Rosh ha'Shanah ought to be tempered or diminished. He also acknowledges the Bach and Magen Avraham who advocate the custom of donning somber white garments on Rosh ha'Shanah, just like on Yom ha'Kippurim.

All of these opinions he rejects, citing only one source: a pasuk from Nechemiah. This pasuk serves as a beautiful reminder of a commonly overlooked aspect of Rosh ha'Shanah, namely, the fact that it is a happy day. It is easy to get so caught up in fear, shame, and guilt that we end up neglecting the mitzvah of simchas Yom Tov which applies to Rosh ha'Shanah, just like it does to every other Yom Tov. True, we are being judged and that is a cause for fear and seriousness, but not to the point where we lose sight of the nature of the day, and certainly not to the point where we neglect such an important mitzvah as simchas Yom Tov!

David ha'Melech wrote: "Serve Hashem with fear, and rejoice in trembling" (Tehilim 2:11). On the surface, it would seem that fear and trembling are antithetical to rejoicing - and yet, we are expected to experience both emotions in our avodas Hashem. One of the main reasons why we find this to be so difficult is because the yetzer ha'ra, by nature, is drawn to extremes. A person who is overcome by his or her yetzer ha'ra will either spend the entire day cowering in fear, or frolic the day away in carefree indulgence without any eimas ha'din (fear of judgment). How are we to fulfill the ideal expressed in David ha'Melech's words?

The answer can be found in the Zichronos berachah in the Mussaf of Rosh ha'Shanah, in which we say: "Let there appear before You the Akeidah when Avraham, our father, bound Yitzchak, his son, upon the altar and conquered his mercy to do Your will wholeheartedly." Avraham Avinu didn't conquer his mercy through repression, denial, or sheer willpower. He was a navi, and like every navi, "his inclination does not overpower him in any worldly matter; rather, he continually overpowers his emotions with his mind" (Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah 7:1). In other words, Avraham Avinu didn't suppress his feelings by pitting one emotion against another. Rather, his chochmah enabled him to rise above his emotions to the point where they yielded and responded to the influence of his intellect. That is how he "conquered" his mercy: by through knowledge and comprehension.

This is the method by which we can achieve the equilibrium of fear and joy described by David ha'Melech. If we succeed in recognizing and understanding both aspects of the day of Rosh ha'Shanah - as a Yom Tov of joy and a Yom ha'Din of trembling - our emotions will respond accordingly, and will find the proper balance on their own.

Having said that, I wish you all a joyously awesome day of Rosh ha'Shanah! Go, eat rich foods and drink sweet beverages, and send portions to those who have nothing prepared, for today is sacred to our Lord. Do not be sad; the enjoyment of Hashem is your strength!