Shemini Atzeres 5781: The Festival of Holding On

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Artwork: Secluded Steppe, by Noah Bradley

Shemini Atzeres 5781: The Festival of Holding On

The thematic identity of Shemini Atzeres is obscure for a number of reasons, among them: 

(1) “Shemini” (“eighth”) indicates that this is the eighth day of the seven-day Chag ha’Sukkos, and would therefore share in its themes. This supposition is reinforced by the fact that we refer to both moadim (holidays) as “zman simchaseinu” (“the time of our rejoicing”). Halachically, however, Shemini Atzeres is regarded as a chag bifnei atzmo (its own independent festival), which suggests – or at least leaves open the possibility – that it has its own thematic identity, separate from that of Sukkos. 

(2) The word “Atzeres” is subject to a number of different translations, including “assembly,”[1] “detainment,”[2] “refraining,”[3] “lordship”[4] and more. Unlike “Pesach” and “Sukkos,” it is difficult to deduce the theme of this holiday from its name.

(3) This problem is compounded by the fact that the seventh day of Pesach is also called “Atzeres” in the Torah. What relationship does it have to Shemini Atzeres, if any? [5]

(4) The other Regalim (Pilgrimage Festivals) each have their own mitzvos which reflect their themes. In contrast, Shemini Atzeres has no special mitzvos associated with its observance.

(5) There are few clues provided in the text of the Written Torah to help us figure out what it is that we are celebrating, other than the cryptic, “It shall be an atzeres for you” (Vayikra 23:36).

In his commentary on that phrase, Rashi [6] offers an explanation based on a midrash [7]:

“it is an atzeres” (lit. “a holding-back”) [means] “I have held you back with Me,” like a king who invited his children to a [festive] meal for a certain number of days, and when it was time for them to depart, he said, “My children, please stay with me one more day, for our parting is difficult for me.”

It would appear that Rashi is doing more than just weighing in on the translation of “atzeres” as “a holding-back.” It would seem that the midrash he cites sheds light on the theme of Shemini Atzeres, namely, that it represents an effort on the part of Hashem to “hold back” His children (as it were), because He finds our departure difficult. Obviously, this is intended to be understood allegorically. The question is: What is the meaning of the allegory?

Rav Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenburg [8] cites Rashi and explains the import of the allegory:

In this manner we can also say that from our perspective the last Yom Tov of Pesach and of Sukkos are called “atzeres,” meaning “being held back,” [referring to] the difficulty of separation on account of all the precious lessons we have acquired in our souls through Hashem’s moadim and the preparation for sanctity that we have attained through them – because it is only for this reason that they are called “Mikraei Kodesh,” as we have explained above. [We ask that these lessons] be “held back” with us, and remain with us even after the conclusion of the festival, and regarding these spiritual lessons which we have internalized over the days of the festival, that we not abandon them when the moed ends. 

According to Rav Mecklenburg, Hashem’s reluctance to part ways with His children is a metaphor for our reluctance to part ways with the moadim, and all the lessons and sanctity we have gained through their observance, for it is these perfections that have brought us “close” to Hashem during these designated times of sanctity.

Strictly speaking, the cycle of moadim should end with Hoshana Rabbah, the last day of chol ha’moed Sukkos. If that were the case, however, we would be at risk of returning to our normal non-Moadim life and losing all of the gains we had made along the way. 

To counteract this eventuality, Hashem established the “extra” moed of Shemini Atzeres – endowed with its own kedushah (sanctity), but without its own mitzvos or independent themes – as an opportunity to reflect on the insights we have gleaned over the course of all the moadim, and to face the fact that unless we take care to “hold on” to what we have gained, we will be in danger of slipping back into the same mindset and habits we had before being enlightened and transformed by the moadim. 

At the end of his comments here Rav Mecklenburg refers the reader to his commentary on Parashas Pinchas [9] where he elaborates on the purpose of the moadim in general and the connection to the role of Shemini Atzeres:

According to all of the explanations [listed above] it is necessary to clarify why the Torah singles out the last day [of Pesach and Sukkos] by the name “atzeres.” [The answer,] it seems, is that the Torah nicknamed it this in order to teach us something of tremendous benefit, namely, that since people’s desires for temporal acquisitions are very powerful, and the labor for them weighs heavily upon them, and the more one increases them the more he diminishes eternal acquisitions, therefore it was the goal of the God-given Torah to free people from this great servitude which has no benefit and to exchange it for the kabbalas malchus shamayim (the acceptance of heavenly kingship). [10]

For this reason [the Torah] established the Moadei Hashem which, according to their straightforward objective, is to provide us with a great motivation not to be excessively involved in transitory possessions, but only to the extent that is necessary, and to only strive to acquire them except insofar as we need, and only in accordance with the avodah commanded in the God-given Torah, in order to give our souls success in the eternal world. 

For this reason they are called “Moadei Hashem,” meaning “designated times for godly matters,” far removed from the various types of striving for temporal possessions. These times designated exclusively for avodas Hashem (divine service) will make a great impression upon our souls, enabling us to acquire a firm disposition to reject excess worldly possessions in order that our striving after them during the days of the week will not be for their own sake, but for the benefit which results from them in attaining the true and eternal purpose. 

Therefore these moadim are also called by the name “Mikraei Kodesh” (lit. “Holy Convocations”) the intent of which – as we explained in Emor – is [to convey] “preparation and readying for sanctity,” in reference to the precious lessons that are alluded to [in the Moadim] in order to motivate us to separate ourselves from the excesses of this world and from striving after temporal possessions; our preparedness for sanctity in the moadei Hashem will serve as a great [precautionary] fence and a universal remedy for the time period which follows after the moed, when we return to matters of material involvement, so that we don’t deviate through them from the path that is proper for an elevated person, and that we direct all of our activities and movements exclusively towards a sublime purpose, to the extent that our necessary involvement in This World for our material bodies is only in order to draw its existence towards the true perfection of serving its Creator, or to that which is instrumental in His service. 

In order [to ensure] that this desirable purpose remains after the festival is over, clinging to holy thoughts that we have acquired during the days of the moed, without distancing them from our souls upon the completion of the moed, but they should be “held back” with us with all the powers of our souls for the upcoming time period – it is for this reason the last day of Pesach and Sukkos is called by the name “atzeres” (the “Festival of Holding On” [11]), that is to say, a day on which we strengthen ourselves with all of our might to seize with our souls the precious lessons we have internalized for all the days of the festival, and to not abandon them with the conclusion of the festival, but to retain them with us and to bring the preparedness for sanctity of the days of the festival from potentiality to actuality in the days of work that will follow after the festival.

According to Rav Mecklenberg, the general purpose of the Moadim – aside from the specific themes of each moed – is to properly frame our involvement in material acquisitions, recognizing that these possessions are only temporary, and that the more we strive after them, the more we forfeit our true success, which is eternal. The six-month period of time after the cycle of moadim, from the end of Tishrei until the middle of Nisan, poses a unique threat. During this time we are exclusively occupied with the day-to-day labor of acquiring our material needs. There is a real danger that the impact of the Moadim will wear off. To counteract this we were given the final chag of Shemini Atzeres to ready ourselves for the metaphysical winter that will soon follow. [12]

I think it’s safe to say for most (if not all) of us, the cycle of moadim this year – the year of COVID-19 – has resulted in a unique set of transformational insights. Our Pesach, our Shavuos, and our Sukkos this year have been different from all other years. [13] At each point along the way, we have experienced highs and lows. We have learned things about each other and about ourselves, as individuals, as a nation, and as a species. The insights generated by the plague have intermingled with the insights embedded in the moadim and their mitzvos, resulting in new perspectives that might otherwise never have been brought to mind. And the winter we will soon face may be one of the darkest in our lifetimes. 

On this Shemini Atzeres, the “Festival of Holding On,” we will have the opportunity to contemplate the personal growth we have undergone in these past seven months and to ready ourselves for the months to follow. This will be a Yom Tov, a time to have simchah (joy) in our material and metaphysical portion. But as Shlomo ha’Melech said, “let him rejoice in all of them, but let him remember that the days of darkness will be many” (Koheles 11:8). We must not content ourselves with the illusion that the clarity we have gained from the moadim of the year of COVID-19 will remain with us. If we wish to retain what our souls have acquired, then it is in our best interest to use this final chag to reflect, to mobilize, and to strategize ways to hold on to this year’s life lessons. Because if not now, then when? When we are in the throes of this coming year, with all its uncertainties? “Give portions to seven, and also to eight, for you never know what calamity will strike the land” (Koheles 11:2). Do not content yourself with having made progress through these past seven months. Secure what you have gained by using Atzeres of the Eighth for its intended purpose, for you never know what this year may bring. 

I wish us all a chag sameach – one through which we may hold on to what we have gained this year.

End Notes

[1] cited but rejected by Rabbeinu Avraham ibn Ezra, Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 23:36 

[2] Rav Ovadiah Sforno, Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 23:36 

[3] Rabbeinu Shmuel ben Meir (Rashbam), Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 23:36 

[4] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 23:36 

[5] Shavuos is also called “Atzeres,” but only by the Rabbis – not in the Torah itself. 

[6]  Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Vayikra 23:36 

[7] This midrash is supposedly from Vayikra Rabbah, but I couldn’t seem to track it down. 

[8]  Rav Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenburg, Ha’Kesav ve’ha’Kabbalah on Sefer Vayikra 23:36 

[9]  ibid. Sefer Bamidbar 29:35, with my own paragraph breaks for clarity 

[10] I cannot help but associate to one of my favorite of Thoreau’s quips in Walden: “As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.” 

[11] This was our best guess at Rav Mecklenburg’s Hebrew-transliterated-into-German phrase אנהאלטספעסט"." 

[12] According to this explanation, why is the seventh day of Pesach also called “Atzeres” when it will not be followed by such a long period of non-kedushah? Perhaps because Pesach is the beginning of the harvest season – a time when we will be preoccupied with material success in a different way. There is a danger that all of the spiritual growth we underwent as a result of the Chag ha’Matzos will be overridden by the stresses and exertions of the harvest season. Although not as great of a threat as the long winter, it is enough that the Torah had to establish an Atzeres specific to the Chag ha’Matzos. 

[13] Rabbinically speaking, the themes of Pesach begin a month earlier, at Purim – and we certainly remember how Purim this year was the real turning point in our lives.

Meditations on Rosh ha'Shanah 5781: The Meaning of "Shanah Tovah"

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Meditations on Rosh ha'Shanah 5781: The Meaning of "Shanah Tovah"

When I think back to the headspace I was in last Erev Rosh ha'Shanah, I am shocked by the level of unfounded certainty I had about how the year would play out. Obviously, I didn't think I'd be able to predict the particulars of the upcoming year, but I was so secure in my ability to predict its general parameters that I wasn't even aware of my own baseless assumptions. 

For example, I wondered, "How many new Shalhevet students will we be able to recruit in the upcoming year?" Never once did it occur to me that the school would close permanently. I wondered, "How successful will I be in preparing my AP English students for the exam in the spring?" Never once did I imagine that all of my students would be taking their drastically modified exam from home, after two months of stressful and disruptive preparation over Zoom. I wondered, "How will my personal and professional development this year improve my practices as a high school teacher next year?" Never in a million years would I have guessed that I would no longer be a high school teacher in 2020-2021.

The pandemic's telescoping effect on my ability to see into the future has been humbling, to say the least. The fact that we can't even see a week or two into the future has made me realize the folly of trying to predict what will happen later in the year. It has become increasingly real to me what ought to have been real all along: the fact that the future is unknowable.

Because of this fundamental shift in perspective, I find myself in a much better position to appreciate the reality of the Yom ha'Din (Judgment Day) we are about to experience. In the Zichronos part of the Mussaf of Rosh ha'Shanah we say: "and over countries [judgment] is pronounced, which of them is destined for the sword and which for peace, which for famine and which for abundance, and on it, creatures are recalled, to be remembered for life or for death." In past years statements like these seemed like hyperbolic abstractions, but this year they are more real than ever. The same is true of the mentality Chazal urged us to have, that our individual and collective fate is "hanging in the balance," awaiting the verdict of the Dayan ha'Emes (True Judge).

Speaking of Judgment Day, I find myself recalling the maxim that a certain single mother used to say to her son throughout his upbringing: "There is no fate but what we make." On its surface, this aphorism underscores the primacy of bechirah (free will) and its role in determining what happens in our lives. When I thought about this statement this morning, my reaction was, "That's not entirely true! Yes, our choices play a role in shaping our fate, but so much of our fate is determined by factors beyond our control! Our lives are a product of our own decisions and external factors!"

But then my thinking shifted back to the words of Shlomo ha'Melech, the Rambam, the Stoic thinkers, and others whose writings I've been pondering lately, and I was reminded that we live a dual life. One is life as a human being who lives in the world of ideas; the other is life as a physical creature living in a physical world. Regarding this physical life it would not be true to say, "There is no fate but what we make," but regarding our metaphysical existence as a tzelem Elokim (truth-seeking intellect), the statement is 100% true (regardless of whether this is what Ms. Connor had in mind when she said it).

Chazal teach: "Everything is in the hands of heaven except for the fear of heaven" (Berachos 33b). The Rambam (Responsa #436) explains that the phrase "fear of heaven" in this context refers to all of our free will decisions, insofar as all decisions culminate in either mitzvah or aveirah (transgression). Thus, while all of our other circumstances may be "in the hands of heaven," our "fear of Hashem" - that is, our life as a decision-making tzelem Elokim - is entirely in our own hands. No matter what unforeseen circumstances we find ourselves in, we always have the ability to choose between mitzvah and aveirah, wisdom and folly, good and evil, truth and falsehood.

And that, I believe, sheds a new light on the uncertainty of the upcoming year. The circumstances which will determine the trajectory of our physical lives this coming year are unknowable and unpredictable, but the factors which will determine our true lives are fully within our control. I find that thought to be both tremendously reassuring and terribly frightening. It means that no matter what happens to us this year, our fate as human beings is still in our own hands. "There is no fate but what we make."

The Rambam, in his commentary on Rosh ha'Shanah Perek 1 Mishnah 2, explains that the judgment of Rosh ha'Shanah and Yom ha'Kippurim determines things like health, sickness, life, death, and the other circumstances of our physical lives. In light of the foregoing observations, I believe we can reframe what we mean when we daven for, yearn for, and wish each other a "shanah tovah." We can't be asking for a year characterized by the true good - a year of choosing the good - since that good is dependent entirely on each of our own choices. Rather, I believe we are asking Hashem to bless us with external circumstances which are conducive to choosing the good, for it is far easier to make good choices when we enjoy health, security, livelihood, and the other physical blessings. What we do with these blessings is up to us, but we are entirely dependent on Hashem for furnishing the circumstances which facilitate our good choices.

And so, with that meaning in mind, I would like to wish all of us - you, me, the Jewish people, and all of mankind - a "shanah tovah."

Ki Savo: The Accursed Transgressors

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Artwork: Curse of Exhaustion, by Slawomir Maniak

Ki Savo: The Accursed Transgressors 

- by Rabbi Matt Schneeweiss 

In Parashas Ki Savo Moshe commands the entire Jewish people, upon entering the Land of Israel, to gather on Mount Gerizim and Mount Eival. He instructs the Leviim to proclaim a series of curses, to which the entire people responds, “Amen.” These curses are directed at twelve categories of transgressors: [1]

1. one who makes an idol and emplaces it in secret 
2. one who degrades his father and mother 
3. one who moves the boundary of his fellow 
4. one who causes a blind person to go astray on the road (i.e. someone who intentionally misleads his fellow by giving him harmful advice) 
5. one who perverts the judgment of a convert, an orphan, or a widow 
6. one who lies with his father’s wife 
7. one who lies with an animal 
8. one who lies with his sister 
9. one who lies with his mother-in-law 
10. one who strikes his fellow in secret 
11. one who takes a bribe to kill a person of innocent blood 
12. one who will not uphold the words of the Torah, to do them 

There are two major questions here: (1) What do all of these transgressions have in common? (2) What makes these transgressions more deserving of Hashem’s curse than others? 

Most Rishonim [2] (medieval commentators) give more or less the answer to our first question: these twelve transgressions are all commonly done in secret. Rashbam [3] adds that the only two transgressions listed which are not always done in secret are making an idol and striking one’s fellow. This is why the Torah needs to specify “in secret” in both of these cases. 

This answer to our first question holds the key to answering our second question. What makes a “secret transgression” more deserving of a curse than an open transgression? The answer can be found in a Mishnah: “Anyone who does not have mercy on the glory of his Creator – it would be better for him not to have come into the world.” [4] The Gemara explains: “To whom does this refer? – to one who commits an aveirah (transgression) in secret.” [5] Rambam [6] clarifies the meaning of the cryptic phrase “anyone who does not have mercy on the glory of his Creator”: 

Consider the wondrous expression, which was said with the help of God, “anyone who does not have mercy on the glory of his Creator” – this refers to someone who has no mercy on his intellect, for the intellect is the “glory of Hashem.” The intent of the Sages is that such a person does not recognize the value of this intellect which was given to him, for behold, he forfeits it into the hands of his emotions and becomes like an animal. This is what our Sages meant when they said, “What does it mean by, ‘one who does not have mercy on the glory of his Creator’? – this refers to one who transgresses in secret,” and as they say in another place, “Adulterers do not commit adultery until they are invaded by a spirit of stupidity,” [7] and the matter is true, for at the moment of the emotion – whichever emotion it will be – the intellect is incomplete. 

Based on these statements of Chazal, in light of the Rambam’s explanation, we can answer our second question as follows: the reason why secret transgressors are especially “curse-worthy” is because their aveiros involve a greater corruption of the intellect than the aveiros of public transgressors. When a person transgresses in secret, this reinforces the false notion that Hashem doesn’t know what we are doing, or has no dominion over our actions. Yeshayahu ha’navi condemns this mentality, saying: “Woe to those who try to hide in depths to conceal counsel from Hashem, and their deeds are done in darkness; they say, ‘Who sees us and who knows of us?’” (Yeshayahu 29:15). 

Rashbam [8] takes an entirely different approach, based on a pasuk (verse) in Parashas Nitzavim: “The hidden [sins] are for Hashem, our God, but the revealed [sins] are for us and our children forever, to carry out all the words of this Torah” (Devarim 29:28). Rashbam explains that it was only necessary for Hashem to curse these “secret transgressors” because they are beyond the reach of the human courts. In other words, the laws of the Torah are enforced by punishments. These punishments are meted out through a “division of labor,” so to speak: Beis Din (the court) is in charge of penalizing the public transgressors for their “revealed sins” via the punishments entrusted to them by the Torah (i.e. stoning, burning, beheading, strangulation, and lashes), whereas the penalizing of the secret transgressors for their “hidden sins” is in the hands of Hashem. 

According to the Rashbam’s approach, it’s not that these secret transgressions are more deserving of Hashem’s curses than public transgressions. Rather, it was necessary for Hashem to curse these secret transgressors for practical reasons – since there would be no other way to enforce these violations. In other words, if Beis Din could punish these secret transgressions, there would have been no need for these curses altogether. 

Whether one prefers the explanation based on Chazal in the Gemara or the explanation of the Rashbam, the bottom line message is clear: Hashem is the Chacham ha’Razim (Knower of Secrets), [9] and “God will judge every deed – even everything hidden – whether good or evil” (Koheles 12:14). 

End Notes

[1] Sefer Devarim 27:14-26 

[2] see Ibn Ezra, Rashbam, Baalei Tosafos, Chazkuni, Rosh, and others 

[3] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Meir (Rashbam), Commentary on Sefer Devarim 27:15 

[4] Mishnah, Chagigah 2:1 

[5] Talmud Bavli, Maseches Chagigah 16a; Kiddushin 40a 

[6] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah, Chagigah 2:1 

[7] Tanchuma: Nasso 5 

[8] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Meir (Rashbam), Commentary on Sefer Devarim 27:15 and 2:28 

[9] Phrase borrowed from the berachah which is recited upon seeing 600,000 Jews gathered in one place. 

Shoftim: Atonement for the Dead (Part 1 of 2)

This is half of a blog post. I wasn't able to finish writing the full blog post in time, and I figured it would be better to publish half of it than allow it to languish in my drafts folder for who knows how long. 

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Artwork: Rest in Peace, by Jarel Threat

Shoftim: Atonement for the Dead (Part 1 of 2)

Parashas Shoftim concludes with the mystifying mitzvah of Eglah Arufah (the Decapitated Heifer). When the corpse of a slain person is found outside of a nearby city, the elders and judges of that city perform a ritual involving an uncharacteristically gruesome slaughter of a heifer. The ceremony concludes with a declaration and petition made by the Kohanim: 

“Our hands did not shed this blood, and our eyes did not see. Atone for Your people Israel whom You redeemed, Hashem, and do not put innocent blood in the midst of Your people Israel, and let the blood be atoned for them.” (Devarim 21:6-8) 

The question is: Why does the pasuk (verse) say “atone for Your people Israel whom You redeemed” rather than “atone for Your people Israel” full stop? The Sifre [1] answers: 

“atone for Your people” – these are the living; “whom You redeemed” – these are the dead, which teaches that the dead need kaparah (atonement); consequently we learn that one who sheds blood sins [retroactively] until the Exodus from Egypt. 

Although the Sifre explains the apparent redundancy in the pasuk, it raises a number of additional problems: 

1. Why is this act of murder reckoned as a sin for the Yotzei Mitzrayim (the generation that left Egypt), such that they would require kaparah? The person who committed the murder certainly sinned. The elders and judges of the nearby city sinned, insofar as they didn’t do their part as leaders to foster a society in which such murders don’t happen. But how is this considered to be a sin for the generation that left Egypt hundreds or thousands of years ago? They didn’t do anything! Why do they need kaparah? 

2. How is it fair to hold anyone responsible for a sin they didn’t commit? According to the Rambam [2], the eleventh of the Thirteen Fundamental Principles of Torah is that Hashem rewards each person for the mitzvos they have done and punishes each person for the transgressions they have committed. Hashem does not reward people for doing mitzvos that they didn’t do, nor does He punish people for transgressions they didn’t commit. The Yotzei Mitzraim lived their own lives, and had their own mitzvos and sins. Ostensibly, it would be unjust to hold them accountable for the sins of their offspring. As Avraham Avinu asked: “Heaven forfend doing something like this! … Will the judge of all the earth not enact justice?” (Bereishis 18:25). 

3. How is it halachically possible for the dead to receive kaparah? The Gemara (Zevachim 9b) openly states “there is no kaparah for the dead” and the Rambam [3] rules in accordance with this view. Rashi [4] explains that “there is no kaparah for the dead because their death atoned for them.” In other words, there is no kaparah for the dead because the dead don’t need kaparah. The Baalei Tosafos [5] point out the halachic ramifications: if it were possible for the dead to receive kaparah, their surviving relatives would be responsible for bringing a korban (sacrifice) to atone on their behalf. Likewise, if a person designated a korban as a sin-offering and then died, then there would be even more of a reason for his relatives to offer it in order to bring about post-mortem kaparah. These sources indicate that kaparah for the dead is a halachic impossibility. [6]

4. How is it metaphysically possible for the dead to receive kaparah? Once a person dies, and their soul separates from their body, it is impossible for the soul to undergo further change, for good or for bad. This is why Chazal urge us to do mitzvos and teshuvah in Olam ha’Zeh (This World), since there’s no way to elevate the soul after death, as the Rambam [7] states: “for if one does not acquire wisdom and good deeds here, then he will have nothing by which he merits.” On the basis of this principle, the Ran questions the entire notion of punishments in Olam ha’Ba. At the beginning of his tenth derashah the Ran [8] sets forth the premise that all of Hashem’s punishments in Olam ha’Zeh are for our benefit, “either to improve the sinner himself so that he does teshuvah from his evil path” or “to improve others, so they will not be evil like him.” He then raises the question about Olam ha’Ba: “it is impossible for the punishments of Olam ha’Ba to be like this, since the soul cannot be improved there; rather, it will forever remain in the state it was in when it left the body.” If that is the case, then how would it be possible for someone to receive kaparah after death? Moreover, how would it be possible for the sin of the slain victim to necessitate kaparah for the soul of a dead person? 

I have an approach but I haven't fully worked it out yet. Let me know if you think of anything!

End Notes

[1] Sifre Devarim: Piska 210; as usual I’ve chosen to translate the version cited by the Torah Temimah 

[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides, Commentary on the Mishnah: Sanhedrin, Introduction to to Perek Chelek 

[3] see Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Avodah, Hilchos Psulei ha’Mukdashim 15:9 

[4] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Talmud Bavli: Me’ilah 10b 

[5] Tosafos, Temurah 15b 

[6] Over the course of my research I did encounter some arguments which attempted to reconcile the implications of the Sifre with these halachos, but I found them to be contrived and didn’t think they warrant being addressed here. If you do find a compelling argument, I would love to hear it. 

[7] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah 9:1

[8] Rabbeinu Nissim ben Reuven (Ran), Drashos ha'Ran: Drashah #10

Rambam: On the Impropriety of Praising Hashem

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Artwork: Tragic Poet, by Anthony Palumbo

Rambam: On the Impropriety of Praising Hashem 

I initially set out to write a dvar Torah on this topic, drawing upon this chapter in the Moreh. I started by excerpting just a little bit, then more, more, and more. Eventually I came to accept the fact that I didn’t want to cut out any of what the Rambam wrote because it was all so important. How, then, could I write a normal-length blog post on this topic? I decided that I’d post the entire chapter from the Rambam, without any commentary, and then I’d write a dvar Torah in which I only cited some of the text. Here, then, is my translation of the entire chapter. The paragraph breaks are my own. 

Rambam: Guide for the Perplexed 1:59 

The following question might perhaps be asked: Since there is no possibility of obtaining a knowledge of [Hashem’s] Essence, and since it has also been proven that the only thing that man can apprehend of Him is the fact that He Exists, and that all positive attributes are inadmissible, as has been shown, what is the difference among those who apprehend [Him]? Must not the knowledge obtained by Moshe Rabbeinu and by Shlomo be the same as that obtained by any one of the lowest class of philosophers, since there can be no addition to this knowledge? On the other hand, it is generally accepted among Torah adherents and also among philosophers that there can be great differences [between the various levels of knowledge of God]. 

Know that it really is the case that those who have obtained knowledge [of God] differ greatly from each other. For in the same way as by each additional attribute an object becomes more unique [in one’s mind], and is brought nearer to the true apprehension of the apprehender, so by each additional negative attribute you advance toward the knowledge [of God], and you are nearer to it than he who does not negate, in reference to God, those qualities which you are convinced by proof must be negated. 

Thus, there may be a man who, after having earnestly devoted many years to the pursuit of one science and to the true understanding of its principles till he is fully convinced of its truths, has obtained as the sole result of this study the conviction that a certain quality must be negated in reference to God, and the capacity of demonstrating that it is impossible to apply it to Him. 

Superficial thinkers will have no proof for this and will doubtfully ask, “Is that thing existing in Hashem, or not?” And those who are deprived of sight will positively ascribe it to Him, although it has been clearly shown that He does not possess it. While I show that He is incorporeal, another doubts and is not certain whether He is corporeal or incorporeal. Others even positively declare that He is corporeal, and will approach Hashem [in prayer] with that belief. 

Now see how great the difference is between these three men: the first is undoubtedly nearest to Hashem; the second is more remote, and the third is even more remote. If there be a fourth person who holds himself convinced by proof that emotions are impossible in Him, while the first who rejects corporeality is not convinced of that impossibility, that fourth person is undoubtedly nearer the knowledge of Hashem than the first, and so on. So that a person who, convinced by proof, negates a number of things in reference to Him, which according to our belief may possibly be in Him or emanate from Him – and all the more so if we believe that the matter is a necessary attribute – then that person is undoubtedly more perfected than we are. 

It will now be clear to you that every time you establish by proof the negation of a thing in reference to Him (may He be exalted), you become more perfected, while with every additional positive assertion you err and recede from the true knowledge of Him. It is necessary in this manner to approach the apprehension of Hashem through analysis and investigation until one knows the inadmissibility of everything that is inadmissible regarding Him – not by such methods as would prove the necessity of ascribing to Him anything extraneous to His Essence, or asserting that He has a certain perfection on account of the fact that we find it to be a perfection in relation to ourselves. The perfections are all specific qualities, and not every quality exists in every being that is capable of having that quality. 

You must bear in mind that by affirming anything of Him, you are removed from Him in two respects: first, whatever you affirm is only a perfection in relation to ourselves; second, He does not possess anything superadded to His Essence, which is synonymous with His perfections, as we have explained. 

Since it is a well-known fact that even the knowledge [of Hashem] which is accessible to man cannot be attained except by negations, and that negations do not convey a true idea of the being to which they refer, all people, both of past and present generations, declared that Hashem cannot be the object of intellectual comprehension, that none but He, Himself, comprehends what He is, and that our knowledge consists in knowing that we are unable truly to comprehend Him. 

All philosophers say: we are dazzled by His beauty, and He is hidden from us because of the intensity with which He becomes manifest, just as the sun is hidden to eyes that are too weak to apprehend it. Much more has been said on this topic, but it is useless to repeat it here. The idea is best expressed in the book of Psalms: “Silence is praise to You” (Tehilim 65:2), the meaning of which is: “in relation to You, silence is praise.” It is a very expressive remark on this subject: for whatever we utter with the intention of extolling and of praising [Him] contains something erroneous in relation to Him, and we perceive it to have some deficiency. Therefore, silence is better, as is contentedness with [the limits of our] intellectual apprehensions, as the perfected ones commanded, saying: “say in your heart upon your bed and be silent” (ibid. 4:4). 

You already know the famous statement [of the Sages] – would that all passages in the Talmud were like that! – and although it is known to you, I will quote it verbatim, as I wish to point out to you the ideas contained in it: 

A certain person [reciting prayers] in the presence of Rabbi Chaninah said: “God, the great, the mighty, and the awesome, the powerful, the strong, and the feared, the bold.” The rabbi said to him, “Have you finished all the praises of your Master? Now the three first [praises of ‘great, mighty, and awesome’] we should not have said [in relation to Hashem] were it not for the fact that Moshe mentioned them in the Torah, and were it not for the fact that the Men of the Great Assembly established them in prayer – and yet, you say all this?! To what may this be compared? To a human king, possessing millions of gold coins, who was praised for owning silver. Would this not be degradation to him?” 

Thus far the opinion of the pious one. Consider, first, how repulsive and abhorrent the accumulation of all these positive attributes was to him; next, how he showed that, if we had only to follow our reason, we should never have composed these prayers, and we should not have uttered any part of them. It has, however, become necessary to address men in words that should leave some idea in their minds, and, in accordance with the saying of our Sages, “The Torah speaks in the language of men,” the Creator has been described to us in terms of our own perfections. It must then be our purpose to set a limit for these expressions and not call Him by them except in our reading of the Torah alone. However, since the Men of the Great Assembly, who were prophets, came and enacted the annunciation of them in prayer, it is our purpose to mention them alone. 

The principal lesson to be derived from this passage is that there are two reasons for our employing such phrases in our prayers: first, they occur in the Torah; secondly, the Prophets introduced them into the prayer. Were it not for the first reason, we should never have uttered them; and were it not for the second reason, we should not have copied them from their places to recite them in our prayers. [It was for this reason that R’ Chanina exclaimed,] “Yet, you go on and on with attributes?!” 

You also learn from this that not all of the attributes we find applied to Hashem in the books of the Prophets are permitted for us to pray with and recite. For he [Rabbi Chaninah] does not say, “Were it not that Moses, our Teacher, said them, we should not have been able to use them,” but he adds another condition, “and had not the Men of the Great Assembly come forward and established their use in prayer,” because only for that reason are we allowed to use them in our prayers. 

We cannot approve of what is done by those foolish persons who are extravagant in praise, fluent and prolix in the prayers they compose, and in the hymns they arrange in order to approach Hashem through them, according to their imagination. They describe Hashem in attributes which would be imperfections if applied to a human being. For those persons do not understand these great and important principles, which are above the intellectual capacity of the masses. Treating the Creator as a familiar object, they describe Him and speak of Him in any expressions they think are possible; they go on at length to praise Him in that manner, and imagine that they can thereby influence Him and produce an effect on Him. If they find some phrase suited to their purposes in the words of the Prophets they are still more inclined to consider that they are free to make use of such texts – which should at least be explained – to employ them in their literal sense, to derive new expressions from them, to form from them numerous variations, and to found whole compositions on them. 

This license is frequently met with in the compositions of the liturgical poets (paytanim) and hymnists, and by all who imagine themselves to be able to compose a poem. Such authors write things which partly are actual heresy, partly contain such folly and fantasy that they naturally cause those who hear them to laugh, but also to cry at the thought that such things can be uttered in reference to Hashem, may He be glorified and exalted. Were it not that I pitied the degeneracy of the authors, I would have brought you some [examples] so that you could take note of the offense in them, but the fault of their compositions is obvious to all those who understand. 

You must consider it and conclude: If evil speech (lashon ha’ra) and slander (hotzaas shem ra) is a severe sin, how much worse is the sin of those who speak with unrestrained tongues in reference to Hashem, and describe Him by attributes which He is far above! I won’t say that this is an act of [willful] rebellion, but it is an unintentional act of blasphemy and verbal abuse on the part of the masses who hear them, and on the part of the fool who utters them. But one who recognizes the degeneracy of these matters and [nevertheless] utters them – he is, according to my opinion, included in those of whom it was said: “the Children of Israel ascribed things that were not right onto Hashem, their God” (II Melachim 17:9), and of whom it was said: “and to utter error against Hashem” (Yeshayahu 32:6). But if you are one of those who are concerned about the honor of his Maker, do not listen in any way to them, and certainly do not utter them, and certainly do not compose them. You surely know the magnitude of the sin of one who casts aspersions against God. 

There is no necessity at all for you to use positive attributes of Hashem with the view of magnifying Him, according to your imagination, nor should you go beyond what the Men of the Great Assembly established in the prayers and blessings, for these are sufficient for [every] need – absolutely sufficient – as Rebbi Chanina said. But other attributes, such as occur in the books of the Prophets, may be read when one encounters them, but one must bear in mind what we have explained, namely, that they are either attributes of [Hashem’s] actions or they convey the negation of their opposites. This, too, should not be publicized to the masses, for this type of analysis is only appropriate for individuals who maintain that the exalting of Hashem does not consist in uttering that which ought not to be uttered, but in the proper intellectual recognition. 

We will now return to complete the exposition and nuance of the words of Rebbi Chanina. He did not say, “To what may this be compared? To a human king who had millions of gold coins but they praised him for hundreds of coins” for this analogy would indicate that Hashem’s perfections are [merely] greater than those perfections which we ascribe to Him but are of the same kind. This is not the case, as we have demonstrated. Rather, the nuance of this analogy consists in his statement: “[a human king who had millions of] gold coins, but as praised for silver.” This teaches us that these [attributes] are perfections vis a vis ourselves, but bear no relation whatsoever vis a vis Hashem. Rather, all of them are imperfections in relation to Him, as [Rebbi Chanina] explained, saying: “Would this not be degradation to him?” 

I have already conveyed to you that everything you imagine to be a perfection in these attributes is, in actuality, an imperfection in relation to Hashem if applied in the same sense as they apply to ourselves. Shlomo (peace be upon him) has already given us sufficient guidance on this subject, saying: “For God is in heaven, and you are upon earth; therefore let your words be few” (Koheles 5:2).

Vaeschanan: Avodah Zarah – Three Fundamental Premises

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Artwork: Klothys, God of Destiny (Alternate), by Jason A. Engle

Vaeschanan: Avodah Zarah – Three Premises

After recapping the event of the Revelation at Sinai, Moshe Rabbeinu warns Bnei Yisrael about the dangers of avodah zarah (idolatry): 

But you shall greatly beware for your souls, for you did not see any likeness on the day Hashem spoke to you at Horeb, from the midst of the fire, lest you act corruptly and make yourselves a carved image, a likeness of any shape; a form of a male or a female; a form of any animal on the earth; a form of any winged bird that flies in the heaven; a form of anything that creeps on the ground, a form of any fish that is in the water under the earth; and lest you raise your eyes to heaven and you see the sun, and the moon, and the stars – the entire legion of heaven – and you be drawn away and bow to them and worship them, which Hashem, your God, has apportioned to all the peoples under the entire heaven! … Beware for yourselves lest you forget the covenant of Hashem, your God, that He has sealed with you, and you make yourselves a carved image, a likeness of anything, as Hashem, your God, has commanded you. For Hashem, your God – He is a consuming fire – a jealous God. (Devarim 4:15-19, 23-24) 

It is difficult for the modern reader to relate to these severe warnings. We have a hard time understanding why our ancestors were tempted to make graven images, bow down to idols, and venerate the heavenly bodies. For this reason, the Torah’s campaign against avodah zarah can appear excessive, outdated, and irrelevant. It seems as though mankind has moved on, and the Torah’s hard-line anti-avodah zarah stance carries little to no meaning for most Jews today. 

The view of avodah zarah as irrelevant is incorrect. In this post I will present an overview of three fundamental premises about avodah zarah which, when considered together, demonstrate the central place that avodah zarah occupies in the Torah regimen. 

Fundamental Premise #1: Opposition to Avodah Zarah as the Essence of Torah 

There are 613 mitzvos. According to the Rambam, 51 of these mitzvos are thematically related to avodah zarah, the laws of which he codifies in Hilchos Avodah Zarah. Of these 51, only around 20 of them are practically relevant to most Jews today – and that’s a generous estimate. 

One might infer from the above that avodah zarah is merely an aspect or a component of Torah. This is inaccurate. In truth, the essential mission of the entire Torah is to uproot avodah zarah. There are many sources which express this concept. Here are a few: 

• Chazal [1] teach “anyone who believes [2] in avodah zarah is like one who denies the entire Torah, and anyone who denies avodah zarah is like one who believes in the entire Torah.” [3]
• Similarly, Chazal [4] say that “one who denies avodah zarah is called a Jew (Yehudi).” 
• The Rambam [5] states: “the purpose of the entire Torah and the center around which everything revolves is the removal and annihilation of every trace of avodah zarah.” 
• The Sefer ha’Chinuch [6] refers to the belief in Hashem’s existence as “the foundation of the religion,” but identifies avodah zarah as “the root of the entire Torah upon which all else depends.” 
• The Ramban [7] also calls avodah zarah “the root of all mitzvos.” 
• Halachically, a Jew who worships avodah zarah has the halachic status of non-Jew with regards to all matters. Likewise, a Jew who is an apostate to avodah zarah is considered to be an apostate to the entire Torah. [8]

It is clear from these statements that avodah zarah is not simply a part of Torah. Rather, opposition to avodah zarah is the essence of Torah. Thus, to say that avodah zarah is no longer relevant to our lives would be to say that the Torah, itself, has lost its relevance. 

Moreover, we see from here that in order to understand the centrality of avodah zarah, we must expand our definition of avodah zarah to encompass more than the limited set of halachically proscribed behaviors. This leads us to the second fundamental premise. 

Fundamental Premise #2: Philosophical vs. Halachic Avodah Zarah 

When Chazal and the Rishonim say that the Torah’s essential mission is to uproot avodah zarah, their comments not limited to the specific set of actions and beliefs halachically proscribed by the 51 mitzvos mentioned above, such as bowing down to idols, making offerings to other gods, believing in and worshipping other deities, etc. 

This brings us to the distinction between halachic avodah zarah and philosophical avodah zarah. Halachic avodah zarah refers to those acts which are legally prohibited within the technical parameters of the halachic system. In contrast, philosophical avodah zarah refers to any act which derives from the thoughts, feelings, and general worldview of avodah zarah. 

The easiest way to grasp this distinction is to consider cases which would not constitute halachic avodah zarah, but would still be considered philosophical avodah zarah. For instance, a person who passes all of his children through the ritual Molech-fire is not liable for violating the Torah’s prohibition of worshipping Molech. Why not? Because halachic avodah zarah is only prohibited if it was done b’derech avodasah (in the customary manner). For this reason a person is only halachically culpable for worshipping Molech if he passes some of his children through the ritual fire, since that is how Molech was customarily worshipped; passing all of one’s children through the fire was not a sanctioned practice in the cult of Molech, and would therefore not be prohibited according to Torah law. But is such a person culpable for philosophical avodah zarah? Absolutely! To believe in – and certainly to worship – any god other than Hashem constitutes philosophical avodah zarah, even if the worshipper’s actions would not qualify as halachic avodah zarah due to a technicality. 

Another example is Christianity. Some Rishonim, such as the Rambam [9], unequivocally maintain that Christianity is halachically avodah zarah on account of the doctrine of the Trinity. The god Christians worship is a triune deity, and is therefore not a legitimate form of monotheism – unlike Islam. Others, such as the Baalei Tosafos [10], classify the doctrine of the Trinity as shituf (“co-sovereignty”), which they maintain is not halachically prohibited for non-Jews. For this reason, the Baalei Tosafos hold that we do not treat Christians as idolaters. Nevertheless, despite this halachic disagreement, both the Rambam and the Baalei Tosafos would agree that the Christian worship of the Trinity constitutes philosophical avodah zarah, since they are worshipping a god other than Hashem. 

How is the distinction between halachic and philosophical avodah zarah relevant to our discussion? Because whereas halachic avodah zarah is confined to the 51 mitzvos in Hilchos Avodah Zarah and their technical laws, philosophical avodah zarah plays a role in a far broader range of mitzvos. For example: 

• Thematically and halachically, Shabbos is the antithesis of avodah zarah, as I wrote about in my article Shabbos, Avodah Zarah, and Skilah. 
• Yetzias Miztrayim (the Exodus from Egypt) was orchestrated as a polemic against the avodah zarah of Egypt, as I wrote about in my article Chametz – Why So Serious? Thus, every holiday which commemorates an aspect of Yetzias Mitzrayim and every mitzvah which reminds us of Yetzias Mitzrayim is, by extension, related to avodah zarah. 
• According to the Rambam [11], the entire avodah (divine service) in the Mikdash (Temple) was designed to uproot avodah zarah. 
• There are numerous chukim (mitzvos whose reasons are not obvious) which the commentators explain to be aimed at uprooting specific avodah zarah beliefs and practices. These include mitzvos pertaining to kashrus, arayos (prohibited sexual relations), kilayim (prohibited mixtures), and more. 

The more one delves into the taamei ha’mitzvos (the reasons or objectives of the commandments), the more one comes to realize the truth of the Ramban’s assertion that “avodah zarah is the root of all mitzvos” – but only if we understand this to be referring to philosophical avodah zarah, rather than halachic avodah zarah. 

And this is especially true in light of our third fundamental premise. 

Fundamental Premise #3: The Derech Avodah Zarah 

Avodah zarah has no basis in reality – that is, in the objective external world. Rather, it stems from the subjective internal world of the psyche. There are certain internal trends (instincts, feelings, beliefs, habits, urges, insecurities, neuroses) which give rise to both philosophical and halachic avodah zarah. These internal psychological trends may be characterized as the derech avodah zarah (literally, “the way of idolatry” or “idolatrous psychological tendencies”). 

For example, to attribute supernatural powers to a physical object is derech avodah zarah, even if one recognizes that such a belief is irrational and doesn’t act on it. To be frightened of the number 13 is derech avodah zarah, even if a person doesn’t change his or her decisions in order to avoid this “unlucky” number and knows that numbers can’t cause any harm. According to the Rambam, who maintains that all forms of magic, sorcery, and occult practices are false and ineffective, it would be the derech avodah zarah to believe that they are real, even if one doesn’t actually engage in such practices. 

One of my rabbeim described such superstitious thoughts and feelings as “the soil in which avodah zarah grows.” My Rosh ha’Yeshiva defined the derech avodah zarah as the tendency to “treat the products of the psyche as a reality.” In addition to eliminating halachic and philosophical avodah zarah, the Torah also endeavors to curb, uproot, and sublimate the derech avodah zarah. According to both the Rambam [12] and the Ramban [13], we are enjoined by Hashem to strive for this ideal in the statement: “tamim tihiyeh im Hashem Elokechah (you shall be whole with Hashem, your God)” (Devarim 18:13). This is a tall order – one which was asked of no less than Avraham Avinu: “He said to him, ‘I am E-l Sha-dai. Walk before Me and be whole” (Bereishis 17:1). The path to this state of temimus lifei Hashem (wholeness before Hashem) truly encompasses the entire Torah, with all of its mitzvos and teachings. 

It is for this reason that caution is needed with regards to the derech avodah zarah. Halachic avodah zarah is prohibited across the board. Philosophical avodah zarah is opposed in other ways. But the derech avodah zarah is so deeply rooted that it is not always addressed. Indeed, sometimes Chazal even sanctioned practices which are rooted in the derech avodah zarah. 

An example of this is given by the Meiri [14] in his explanation of Chazal’s treatment of zugos (literally “pairs”). In the olden days, people harbored superstitious feelings about doing things in “pairs.” This posed an obstacle to the mitzvah of the Four Cups on Pesach, since we drink the wine in pairs. The Gemara in Pesachim gives various reasons as to why drinking a pair of pairs of cups on Pesach will not result in harm (e.g. Pesach is described as “a night of guarding” in that it is guarded from harmful spirits; the fact that these cups have blessings recited over them negates the harm). The problem with these answers is that Chazal seem to be endorsing the derech avodah zarah! The Meiri answers this problem by explaining why they did this: 

In many places we have explained that in those days the people were drawn after folk superstitions, such as incantations and omens and folk practices. Anything which did not contain a habit of avodah zarah and darchei ha’Emori (“ways of the Amorites” – idolatrous customs which are prohibited by Torah), [the Sages] did not bother to uproot. Even more so regarding those matters which were accustomed to them. 

In other words, if a particular practice constituted actual avodah zarah, Chazal would have stopped it. But if people harbored superstitious feelings about something which was not actually avodah zarah, not only did Chazal refrain from uprooting them, but they even “catered” to them by providing explanations which indirectly validated the erroneous premises of these derech avodah zarah feelings. 

Nevertheless, one who seeks to attain the level of tamim tihiyeh will strive to understand the origins of avodah zarah within the human psyche, to develop a sensitivity to the derech avodah zarah in themselves, and to strive to counteract those derech avodah trends. 

Conclusion 

In light of these three premises we can see that the warnings about avodah zarah given by Moshe Rabbeinu before his death are relevant today just as they were 3,300 years ago. Avodah zarah is not an antiquated component of Torah, but its very foundation. Halachic avodah zarah may be limited in its scope, especially in a post-pagan era, but philosophical avodah zarah is alive and well. Overt acts of avodah zarah may be avoidable, but the derech avodah zarah is insidious, and continuous to plague us despite our sophistication. 

End Notes

[1] Sifre Devarim 11:28

[2] lit. “admits to” or “acknowledges [the validity of]” or “upholds.” 

[3] This statement is codified by the Rambam in Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 2:4 

[4] Talmud Bavli Maseches Megilah 13a 

[5] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Moreh ha’Nevuchim 3:37 

[6] Sefer ha’Chinuch Mitzvah #26 

[7] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Devarim 4:3 

[8] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 2:5 

[9] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Avodah Zarah 1:3; Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 9:4; Sefer Kedushah, Hilchos Maachalos Assuros 11:7 

[10] see Tosafos Sanhedrin 63b and Bechoros 2b; full disclosure – I have not learned Tosafos’s view firsthand. 

[11] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides) Moreh ha’Nevuchim 3:32 

[12] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Mada, Hilchos Avodah Zarah 11:16 

[13] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Devarim 18:13 and Bereishis 17:1 

[14] Rabbeinu Menachem ben Shlomo Meiri, Beis ha’Bechirah Pesachim 109b

Devarim: Deserving Israel is Not Enough

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Disclaimer: this article is not intended to reflect any particular political stance on Israeli policy. 

Devarim: Deserving Israel is Not Enough 

Many Jews feel that we are entitled to take possession of the Land of Israel because it was promised to the Avos (i.e. Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov) as an inheritance to their offspring (i.e. us). While this is true, it is only half of the truth. The mere fact that the Land of Israel was promised to the Avos is not, in and of itself, a sufficient reason to justify our conquest of it. There is another consideration which is explicitly stated in the contract made by Hashem when He promised Avraham the Land. 

But let us start with our parashah. Much of Parashas Devarim is a recap of Bnei Yisrael’s journey through the Wilderness. Chapter 1 recounts the first part of the journey, from Sinai until the Sin of the Spies. Chapter 2 skips ahead 39 years to the events that were detailed at end of Sefer Bamidbar, as Bnei Yisrael began their conquest of the nations that lived in and around Israel. Moshe Rabbeinu recalls Hashem’s instructions regarding our interactions with these nations, beginning with the children of Eisav who occupied the land of Seir: 

Hashem said to me, saying … “You shall command the people, saying: ‘You are passing through the boundary of your brothers, the children of Eisav, who dwell in Seir; they will fear you, but you should be very careful. You shall not provoke them, for I shall not give you of their land even the right to set foot, for I have given Mount Seir as an inheritance to the children of Eisav.” (Devarim 2:2-5) 

Next, Moshe recounts a similar set of instructions regarding the Moabites and their land: 

Hashem said to me: “You shall not distress Moav and you shall not provoke war with them, for I shall not give you an inheritance from their land, for the children of Lote have I given Ar as an inheritance.” (ibid. 2:9) 

Likewise, regarding the Ammonites and their land: 

Hashem spoke to me, saying: “This day you shall cross the border of Moav, at Ar, and you shall approach opposite the children of Ammon; you shall not distress them and you shall not provoke them, for I shall not give any of the land of the children of Ammon to you as an inheritance, for to the children of Lote have I given it as an inheritance.” (ibid. 2:17-19) 

Finally Bnei Yisrael reach a people and a land that they are commanded to conquer: 

“Rise up and cross Amon Brook; see! Into your hand have I delivered Sichon, king of Cheshbone, the Amorite, and his land; begin to possess it, and provoke war with him. This day I shall begin to place dread and fear of you on the peoples under the entire heaven, when they hear of your reputation, and they will tremble and be anxious before you.” (ibid. 2:24-25) 

At first glance one might think that Bnei Yisrael were enjoined to conquer Sichon’s land because, unlike the lands of Eisav, Moav, and Ammon, the land of the Amorites had not been apportioned to them as an inheritance, and was therefore “free” for the taking. The Ralbag [1] dispels this notion: 

Our inheritance of the Land [of Israel] requires two conditions: one is the merit of the Jews, and the second is the wickedness of those nations, that their iniquity must be “full,” as we explained regarding the statement: “for the iniquity [2] of the Amorite is not full” (Bereishis 15:16).

The Ralbag is referring to the condition explicitly stated by Hashem in the Bris Bein ha’Besarim (The Covenant Between the Parts) when He promised to Avraham that his descendants would return to inherit the Land of Israel four generations after their sojourn in Egypt: 

And He said to Avram: “Know with certainty that your offspring shall be strangers in a land not their own, and they will serve them, and they will oppress them for four hundred years. But also the nation that they will serve I shall judge, and afterwards they will leave with great wealth. As for you: you shall come to your ancestors in peace; you shall be buried in a good old age. And the fourth generation shall return here, for the iniquity of the Amorite shall not yet be full until then.”

The Chazkuni [3] understands this last clause to be an answer to a question that Avraham might have asked: “Why will my offspring need to wait for four generations to inherit the Land? Why can’t they inherit the Land immediately?” The answer is “for the iniquity of the Amorite shall not yet be full until then.” Rashi [4] explains the meaning of this stipulation: 

for the iniquity of the Amorite shall not yet be full [enough] to cast them out of their land until that time, because Ha’Kadosh Baruch Hu does not punish a nation until its measure is full, as it is said, “according to her measure He contends with her” (Yeshayahu 27:8).

The Radak [5] elaborates: 

for the iniquity of the Amorite shall not yet be full until then – [this means that] the time for the punishment for the iniquity of the Amorite will not yet have arrived, for Hashem (blessed is He) prolongs His anger for the wicked, and there is a set time for everyone: there are some whom He punishes immediately, and others for whom He delays [punishment] for a long time – all in accordance with His wisdom. [In this pasuk] He tells [Avram]: “for the time of the Amorite’s [6] punishment has not yet been completed.”

Indeed, the Ramban [7] goes so far as to posit that this was one of Avraham’s concerns which prompted the Bris bein ha’Besarim in the first place. After initially being told by Hashem: “I am Hashem Who brought you out of Ur-Kasdim to give you this land to inherit it” (Bereishis 15:7), Avram asks: “My Lord, Hashem-Elokim, whereby shall I know that I am to inherit it?” (ibid. 15:8). It is impossible to say that Avram’s question stemmed from a lack of trust in Hashem, since we were told two pesukim earlier: “And he trust in Hashem, and He reckoned it to him as righteousness” (ibid. 15:6). What, then, was the basis of Avram’s question? Ramban answers: 

But Avraham wanted to know with a true knowledge that he would inherit it, and that his sin or the sin of his offspring wouldn’t cause [the promise to not be fulfilled], or perhaps the Canaanites would do teshuvah and [that which was written] would be fulfilled in them: “One moment I may speak concerning a nation or a kingdom, to destroy, demolish, or annihilate [it], but if that nation repents of its evil deed of which I had spoken, then I relent of the harm that I had planned to carry out against it” (Yirmiyahu 18:7).

In other words, Avram asked Hashem, “whereby shall I know that I am to inherit it?” because he was worried about three things: (1) his own sins would cause him to lose the merit by which Hashem’s promise would be fulfilled, (2) the sins of his offspring would cause them to lose the merit by which they would inherit the land, or (3) the Seven Canaanite nations currently occupying the land would do teshuvah, thereby making it impossible for Hashem to give the land to Avraham’s descendants, since it would be unjust to kick a righteous nation out of their land, even in order to give it to someone as deserving as Avraham! Ultimately, Hashem made the Bris Bein ha’Besarim to allay Avraham’s fears [8], but we see from the Ramban’s interpretation of Avraham’s concerns how powerful this principle of Divine justice is! 

The Ralbag invokes this Divine justice to explain why Bnei Yisrael were warned not to wage war with the children of Eisav, Moav, and Amon: 

For this reason you will find that the Torah warned [Bnei Yisrael] not to provoke war with the Children of Eisav, nor with the Children of Ammon and Moav, since He didn’t give them their land as an inheritance, because even though the members of these nations were wicked, their iniquity was not yet “full” [such that they deserved to be driven out of their land and deprived of their inheritance]. However, the iniquity of the Amorite was full, and it is for this reason that they dispossessed Sichon and Og [from their land].

In other words, although the pesukim made it seem that Hashem absolutely forbade Bnei Yisrael to take the lands of Eisav, Moav, and Ammon, the Ralbag learns that this was only because “their iniquity was not yet full.” The implication is that if their iniquity had been full, they would have suffered the same fate as the Amorites, despite having been given their land as an inheritance. 

All of this may seem like ancient history, but I believe that the principle of Divine justice reflected in these pesukim has a significant bearing on our present situation, if not in how we relate to the current non-Jewish occupants of the Land of Israel, than at least in how we view our God-given right to dispossess them. 

As I mentioned at the outset of this post, it is easy to feel that we, as the descendants of the Avos, have an absolute right to take our Land back from those who dwell there. But as we have seen, even after Hashem promised the Land to Avraham, He was still not willing to drive out Amorites and the other Canaanite nations immediately. Only when “their iniquity was full” would they deserve to be kicked out. Only at that point would we be right to claim what He gave us. To displace these nations before their iniquity is full would be unjust. 

Tishah b’Av is next week. We are deep within the period of time when we, as Jews, reflect on the fact that we were exiled from our Land by our enemies. Even today, when the State of Israel exists, we bemoan the fact that we are still in exile, insofar as our Land is occupied by the nations of the world, and Israel is not under Jewish sovereignty. It is easy for us to look at the current occupants of our home and feel that we’re just entitled to kick them out and reclaim what is ours, without considering our own merit or the injustice of driving out another nation. 

When we think about the complicated situation in Israel today, let us remember the two criteria required to take back our land: we must become righteous enough to deserve it, and those we dispossess from their homes must be wicked enough to deserve their fate. 

End Notes

[1] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on Sefer Devarim, Chapter 2: Toeles #13 

[2] In his actual commentary on Bereishis 15:16 the Ralbag translates “avon” as “punishment” rather than “iniquity,” but I’ve translated it as “iniquity” here to keep the terms consistent with the other meforshim I’ll be citing. 

[3] Rabbeinu Chezkia ben Manoach (Chazkuni), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 15:16 

[4] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 15:16 

[5] Rabbeinu David Kimchi (Radak), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 15:16 

[6] Many of the meforshim, including the Radak, explain that what is said of the Amorite applies to the other six Canaanite Nations as well, and that the Amorite is singled out because they were the most powerful. 

[7] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Bereishis 

[8] How, exactly, the Bris Bein ha’Besarim accomplished this is the subject of another article yet to be written.