Showing posts with label shemot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shemot. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Parshiot Vayakhel-Pekudei: "Coming Close" In The Service of God

BY: Aaron Levy

In this week’s Torah reading, we learn about the details of building the mishkan, or Tabernacle. This structure was an amazing accomplishment - a dwelling place for God in the desert. Parashat Vayakhel describes how Moses called Aholi’ab, Betzal’el, and others to engage in the melakha, the work of the Tabernacle:

Moses summoned Bezalel, Oholiab, and every wise-hearted man whose heart Hashem endowed with wisdom, everyone whose heart inspired him, to come close to the work, to do it.[1]

The question can be asked: Why does it say “to come close to the work?” The text should read “everyone whose heart inspired him to do it.” This reveals a very crucial aspect that goes beyond the construction of the mishkan; it teaches us an important principle of worshiping God that is very relevant to us. Before we engage in Jewish law, we should first get close to it, try and make it relatable and personal. We should ask ourselves: How can I, personally, understand and appreciate this particular law?

Later in the parasha it states:

He made the Laver of copper and its base of copper, from the mirrors of [women who reared] the legions who massed at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting.[2]

Rashi asks, very reasonably, “Where did they get these mirrors?” Rashi explains that these mirrors were used by the Israelite women in Egypt. While their husbands were out performing slave-work, the women would go and bring them food and drink. Before they would go out, they would use these mirrors to make themselves beautiful thereby strengthening their husband’s desire for them. As such, they had many children, populating the Nation of Israel, and giving them “legions”.

Initially, however, Moses had reservations about using such mirrors, as they could be seen as a symbol of vanity. However, God disagreed and understood their importance. These mirrors were how the woman enabled themselves to feel connected to God. They were used to promote harmony in their homes and love between wives and their husbands. They, therefore, merited having such an integral role in the construction of the mishkan.

Clearly, there is something to finding a unique and personal way to approach God. We must find how a certain mitzvah appeals to us and use that aspect to perform said mitzvah. When I read Rashi’s commentary about the mirrors, I immediately thought of the actor and director of the movie Ushpizin, Shuli Rand. The actor was born to an observant family, but left Orthodoxy and became successful in theater. When he returned to Judaism and became a Breslover Hassid, he withdrew from acting, deeming it “inappropriate”. However, after eight years, he realized that theater is a part of him and he should figure out how to include this passion into his new life. Through this, Ushpizin was born. Rand was able to connect to Judaism through something that individually appealed to him. I think this is one way to understand the phrase “shiv’im panim laTorah” or “seventy faces to the Torah.”[3] Judaism encompasses so many different attributes and characteristics that each individual can find a way to relate to it and make it meaningful.

With that, I hope that we can spend this Shabbat trying to see the new ways in which we can incorporate our distinct personalities, talents, and passions into the worship and service of God. Shabbat Shalom!



[1] Exodus 36:2
[2] Exodus 38:8
[3] Bamidbar Rabbah, Naso 13:15

Monday, December 24, 2012

Parshat Shemot: "To Be Or Not To Be?"

BY: Naomi Bilmes

“To be, or not to be: that is the question.”
[1] In Hamlet’s most famous soliloquy, the troubled Danish prince asks the ultimate question about life and death- Is life worth living? Is death preferable to the “sea of troubles,” the “heart-ache” and the “thousand natural shocks” that comprise human existence? This question has bothered countless authors, playwrights and philosophers in the past, and will continue to bother many in the future.

Chapter 2 of the book of Shemot begins with “לֵוִי בַּת אֶת וַיִּקַּח  לֵוִי מִבֵּית  אִיש  וַיֵּלֶך,” “And there went a man from the house of Levi and he took a daughter of Levi (for a wife).”[2] This verse begins to tell the story of Moses’ parents, Amram and Yocheved. Numerous commentators have asked questions about this verse, specifically regarding the first word: “vayelech-and he went.” Why must Amram “go out” to find a wife? Why can’t he just stay where he is? Where is he going? What does this tell us about his family and his life?

Ramban comments that this is Amram’s first marriage and Yocheved lived in another city. Therefore, Amram must “go out” to find her and marry her. Ramban also points out that “vayelech” is used in other places in Tanakh to indicate that someone is breaking the mold and doing something new. In this case, Amram is doing something innovative as well, by getting married and attempting to have sons, he is defying Pharaoh’s decree and willingly becoming a veritable outlaw. [3]

Rashi has a slightly different interpretation of the word “vayelech.” He posits that when Pharaoh decreed the slaughter of all newborn males, Amram and Yocheved were married already and they separated as a result of Pharaoh’s decree. The couple reasoned that if they were not living together, they could not have a son who would be killed in accordance with Pharaoh’s harsh decree. For Rashi, “vayelech” refers to the fact that Amram had to relocate to Yocheved and remarry her.[4]

The Gemara in Masechet Sotah expands greatly upon Rashi’s idea. The Gemara begins by assuming that Amram and Yocheved have married and separated. Rabbi Judah ben Zebina interprets “vayelech” to mean that Amram went “in the counsel of his daughter.” But what does this mean? What did his daughter, Miriam, say to him that was so vital? The Gemara continues by recounting a story about Miriam and her father. Miriam, seeing that her father has separated from her mother and that other Israelites are doing the same, approaches her father with a reprimand, “Abba, what you have done is worse than what Pharaoh has done! Pharaoh’s decree only affects the boy babies, but what you have done affects girls, too! Yes, you have prevented yourself from having to kill any baby boys, but you have also prevented yourself from having daughters who could have lived.”[5]

Amram does not respond, and Miriam continues her bold rebuke, “Your act is also worse than Pharaoh’s in another way. His decree only affects this world, whereas yours affects the World to Come. If babies are born and then drowned, they can go to Olam Haba’ah (World to Come). But if they are never born in the first place, they never even have the chance.”[6]

Miriam’s rebuke brings up a striking question, is it better to have lived and died at a young age or is it better never to have lived at all? According to Miriam’s logic it would seem that the answer is that a short life is better than no life, merely breathing the air of our world for a few precious moments ensures us the chance to get to the World to the Come. But Miriam is only considering babies, people who have not yet had a chance to act, to think or to feel. I challenge you to think of the question in regards to a much older person—someone who has had the chance to experience life. In this context, the question takes on a whole new meaning. It is not simply about getting to the World to Come; it is about your experiences and actions in this life. Is it worthwhile to experience the joys of life only to have them one day taken away? Or is the pain of death too great a cost? Maybe it is better for life to never even begin.

Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai take on this question from a slightly different perspective. They examine the question of a person’s actions. Humans are guaranteed to sin, so maybe it is better that humans don ot live at all rather than live a sinful life.

Shammai: It is better for man not to have been created!
Hillel: Incorrect! It is better that man exists!
Shammai: Let’s take a vote!

The majority rules that it is better for people NOT to have been created! But since he has indeed been created, he should investigate his past deeds and fix them if necessary. He should also examine his future actions and make sure they are in accordance with morality and halakha.[7]

The Gemara in Eruvin seems to teach us that it is better never to have lived at all—a statement which directly contradicts the Gemara in Sotah. Miriam thinks any life is preferable, while the Rabbis imply otherwise. I find the Rabbis’ conclusion somewhat disheartening. Are we really to believe that we have no chance in life to achieve goodness? Are we truly so bereft of morality that sinning is our inevitable course of action?

We must prove to God and to others that we do indeed deserve to be created. While Hamlet shies away from the pain others create for him, the Rabbis seem to be shying away from the pain and immorality we create for ourselves. In Hamlet’s case, the cure to life’s troubles was death. In our case, however, the cure must be self-improvement. We have been created. We are likely to sin. We are able to repent. We can therefore earn the right to the life that God has given us.



[1] Hamlet, III.i
[2] Shemot 2:1 The Stone Edition: The Chumash, Artscroll, 1994.
[3] Shemot / Exodus: The Torah with Ramban’s Commentary, Artscroll, 1999.
[4] The Torah: With Rashi’s Commentary, Artscroll, 1999.
[5] Sotah 12a 
[6] Ibid.
[7] Eruvin, 13b



Thursday, March 1, 2012

Parshat Tetzaveh: The Character Of The Incense Altar

 BY: Ariel Karp

This week’s parsha, Parshat Tetzaveh, deals mainly with the clothing of the Kohanim and the sacrifices pertaining to the dedication of the Mishkan. In the end of the parsha, however, we find the commandment to build the incense altar, the mizbeach ha’ketoret. This seems strangely out of place. The rest of the vessels are mentioned in Parshat Teruma, the parsha  before Tetzaveh. Why is the incense altar separated from the rest of the vessels in this parsha when in the rest of the Tanakh it is grouped together with them? 

Furthermore, the reason given for the formation of the other vessels is, [i]וְשָׁכַנְתִּי בְּתוֹךְ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל”- in order for God’s presence to dwell amongst the people of Israel.They were formed in order to bring the presence of God into the Mishkan. A similar reason is not given for the incense altar. Ramban explains that incense itself is always related to kavod, honor. It is therefore assumed that the purpose of the incense altar was to honor God, rather than to channel His presence. What do these distinctions mean and how do they relate to our understanding of the incense altar?

The Meshech Chochma looks at the separation of incense altar as unfavorable. It is a reflection of the lower status of the incense altar in relation to the other vessels of the Mishkan. In Masechet Zevachim (59a) it states: “If the [incense] altar is absent, incense is burned in its place." This means that the mitzvah of incense can be fulfilled without the altar. The incense can simply be burned in the spot where the altar should be. No such leeway is given with regard to any of the other vessels. Without the sacrificial altar there are no sacrifices, and without the table there is no showbread. It is therefore fitting that the incense altar be listed after and separate from all of the other “necessary” vessels. 

All of the other vessels are necessary for the fulfillment of the daily service, to cause God’s presence to rest on the Mishkan. The incense altar is not. It is not part of the daily service, but an independent mitzvah. It is used not to bring God’s presence into the Mishkan, but instead to honor God. The Seforno follows the path of the Meshech Chochma. He compares the Mishkan to a house, and God to a guest entering this house. Each vessel represents a different household item that could be used to welcome guest. The ark is a seat, the menorah a lamp, and so on. The incense altar, however, is not one of these items. It is used not to welcome God, but to honor God- "to honor [him] following his visit." He compares the incense altar to mugmar, a type of incense that was customarily burned at the end of an important meal to introduce a pleasant fragrance before that guests leave. The mugmar is not an integral part of the meal but a nice addition. So too, the incense altar is not an integral part of the daily service, but a pleasant supplement.

The Ibn Ezra and the Ramban take a very different approach. They claim that the incense altar is separated from the other vessels because it has a higher status. The parsha of the incense altar concludes with the verse, “קֹדֶשׁ-קָדָשִׁים הוּא, לַיהוָה”- “It is a holy of holies unto God."[ii] The parsha of the sacrificial altar is called only “קֹדֶשׁ-קָדָשִׁים הוּא”- “a holy of holies”.[iii] This additional “unto God” highlights the uniqueness of the incense altar. It is not just holy, but it is holy unto God. The incense altar is therefore mentioned last after all of the other vessels not because it is less significant, but because it is the culmination of the Mishkan process. As the Ramban states: “בתשלום הכל נקדשתי את שמי” – with the sum of everything I will sanctify myself. The incense altar is this pinnacle, this sum.  Only after the incense altar is built can God fully rest not just his presence but also his kavod, his honor and glory, on the Mishkan.

These three opinions give an interesting reflection on the dual nature of the incense altar, and of the idea of separation. Separation can be looked at as a way to isolate or disregard something, or, as a way to define, honor, and sanctify it. We therefore can see the separation of  the incense altar from the other vessels as a reflection of its inferiority or its superiority. And in fact, it possesses both a superior and an inferior aspect. It is inferior to the other vessels in that it is not part of the daily service, and service is the main aspect of the Mishkan; however, it is used for honor, and honor is a higher level than service. Honor may not be necessary for the basic function of the Mishkan, but it brings a level of kedusha, of holiness, that is otherwise unattainable. It transforms the Mishkan from “holy” to "holy unto God.”


[i] Exodus 29:46
[ii] Exodus 30:10
[iii] Exodus 29:37