Wednesday, December 26, 2007

FALSE MODESTY
Parashas Shemos


Vayashav Moshe el Hashem, vayomar, Hashem, lamah harei’osa la’am hazeh, lamah zeh shelachtani ... vayomer hashem el Moshe, ata sir’eh asher e’eseh l’Pharoh... And Moshe responded to Hashem and said: G-d, why have You made it worse for this nation, why did You send me? And Hashem answered, now you will see what I shall do to Pharoah (Shemos 5:22-6:1)

Rashi, quoting the Midrash, points out that Hashem silently criticized Moshe for this statement, noting that when Avrohom was told to offer Yitzchak, he did not complain or wonder what G-d was doing [hirhur acher ma’asei] even though it seemed to contradict the promise that Yitzchak would be the continuation of Avraham’s legacy. The comment deserves further explanation, for the situations do not seem to be similar at all. In the case of the akeidah, Avraham could have very well believed that Hakadosh Baruch Hu had changed His mind [which was the case earlier when Avraham only had Yishmael and needed reassurance from Hashem that he would nevertheless have a son through Sarah]. His silence is an indication of his great faith and his willingness to accept a Divine decree.

In this case, Moshe’s complaint was not that the worsening conditions of enslavement could be interpreted as a sign that G-d had figuratively changed His mind about the geulah. That would have been a complaint that would stand in contradistinction to Avraham’s great faith in G-d and would justify eliciting the expression of G-d’s disappointment. In truth, however, Moshe was only voicing a question as to why G-d had allowed the Egyptians to increase the workload, a fact that seemed to pointless in the scheme of the pending geulah. G-d had told Moshe that Pharoah would not listen and Moshe accepted that there would be a process that would include great miracles. This process, however, did not necessitate worsening conditions for the Jews.

Furthermore, as Sifsei Chachamim points out, we find elsewhere [when the Jews worshipped the egel and when Korach rebelled] that Moshe “complains” and in those cases, Hashem does not recall Avraham’s silent faith. Finally, Hashem’s response to Moshe does not seem to answer the question that Moshe posed. Moshe complains why G-d made things worse for the Jews and Hashem answers now you will see what I am about to do to Pharoah. If the question was out of place, don’t answer and if it is a fair question then wouldn’t one expect the response to be something along the lines of “this is a test of am Yisrael’s mettle” or “I am giving them stress so as to reward them at a later date” or “this is a test to weed out those who do not truly believe” - all of these responses that appear elsewhere.

When Moshe is given the role of leading the people out of enslavement, we find that he is extremely reluctant to take on the role. He notes that he is a kvad peh uk’vad lashon, he speaks with a lisp and he is less than eloquent. Clearly, Moshe understood that the geulah was to be accomplished primarily through speech - the miracles of the staff, the tza’raas, changing water into blood and even the plagues were meant to be reinforcements to the message which was the medium through which geulah would come about. Ultimately, G-d wants people who listen to His word because He has spoken, not people who follow because they are impressed with His power [see Rambam in Hilchos De’os: ha’mamin b’Moshe ub’nevuaso biglal nissim she’asah, yesh b’libo dofi - one who believes in Moshe’s prophecies because of the miracles that he did is deficient in his heart]. Thus, when Moshe complains that he lisps and suggests that Hashem find someone else to deliver the message, Hashem is figuratively angry with Moshe, reprimanding him and reminding him rhetorically mi sam peh l’Adam - who is it that has given man the power of speech. Doubting or belittling one’s ability when Hashem has clearly chosen you to undertake a mission is misplaced modesty and ultimately a sign of lack of faith. G-d says that you are capable and you say that you are not? How could a descendent of Avraham - the man of faith - even consider this!

When Moshe complained about the increased workload, he did not mean to say that G-d was acting inappropriately. Rather, he suspected that the reason why this had transpired was because of his ineffectiveness in convincing Pharoah. G-d had told him that Pharoah would be reluctant at first but He had not told Moshe that the conditions of enslavement would also change. Moshe assumed that it was his fault, for it had only taken place once he had begun to raise the question of ending the slavery [mai’az ba’si el Pharoah]. Had G-d allowed Pharoah to worsen their conditions and had then immediately set them free, one could assume that this was all a part of the Divine plan [and perhaps the last part of the fulfillment of the answer to Avraham who had asked b’meh aida ki arishenu - how will I be sure that my children will be worthy - to which Hashem had responded by describing the period of exile which would give them spiritual strength] Hashem sees this as another expression of Moshe’s false modesty, a trait unbecoming the man who has been selected to lead the people out of slavery.

Monday, December 24, 2007

Ki ein bayit asher ein sham meit

In the summer, I received an e-mail concerning an incident that had taken place in Monticello, N.Y. on a motzaei Shabbat. The writer was one of the community activists who had intervened in what he described as a base scene of debauchery that included young women and men from across the spectrum of observant Jewry. To his credit, he ascribed no blame for the incident. Many of the bloggers in our community did not share his reticence and were quite willing to serve as both judge and jury and let their learned comments loose. Their tone suggests that they understand their subject despite their lack of expertise in dealing with teenagers. "I was a teenager, I have sired teenagers, therefore I can analyze the problems of teenagers." The parallel would be: I have a headache, I've given others headaches, therefore I am qualified to perform neurosurgery.

Later, I received a second e-mail from the same source announcing that the problem had been solved. He and a group of askanim had come to the site early, before the parties began. They made arrangements before Shabbat whereby the local pool hall would be for boys and the local bowling lanes for girls. They put patrols in place to guarantee separation and voila, the situation was and is under control.

I have the greatest respect for the person behind the e-mails; he works tirelessly, is very well meaning and has a great deal of real life experience. But like many practitioners, he focuses on the symptoms rather than dealing with the malaise itself. This is not a criticism; his role is to deal with problems once they manifest themselves. However, my experience has been that the problem we are facing as a growing avalanche of kids at risk uses the Catskills as their latest venue, is a fault of the type of schools and families that we have allowed to develop.

As a high school level mechanech for some thirty years, I firmly believe that no-one has complete expertise in understanding teenage behavior; it remains the world's most inexact science. The consolation in dealing with adolescence is that it usually lasts for six years and then miraculously cures itself. That said, I do have a sense, even without statistical data to support my theory, that many readers will agree that the analysis I offer deserves further exploration. A caveat: I begin this diatribe by pointing out that I do not yet have a complete, step-by-step plan for implementing what I feel is the real resolution to the kids at risk phenomenon. Nevertheless, I present it to you and would greatly appreciate your direct feedback.

To begin, I propose that the identification of students as being kids at risk be expanded rather than limited to those who exhibit high risk behavior vis-a-vis alcohol, tobacco or substance abuse. The adolescents throwing rocks or harassing women on busses in Ramat Beit Shemesh are as much a part of this problem as are the kids in Monticello. So too are the students at our mainstream yeshivot who have to appoint a designated driver to take them back to the Beit Midrash after attending weddings. All exhibit conduct unbecoming a Jew and should be called off the derech even if the first group is considered a greater indication of departure from halachic norms than the latter two.

Additionally, I would like to remove from the equation, for the meantime, those adolescents who are clearly at risk because of sociological or psychological factors. Physical, verbal and/or sexual abuse, ADD, ADHD or diagnosable learning difficulties need treatment in and of themselves, and while they are clearly behavioral modifiers, they are often treatable through medication, therapy or various compensations and modifications.

I direct my comments to those adolescents who come from what seem to be stable, loving homes, who have been mainstreamed educationally and who nevertheless just don’t fit in. There are those who blame their departure from the derech to exposure to the internet and to the electronic and print media, blasting them as an evil the extent of which has never raised its head against the innocent youth of our people.

Frankly, I don’t think that the internet, as addictive as it can be [ask any serious blogger’s wife], is the cause of people going off the derech. Rather, once the person has begun to slide down the slippery slope out of Judaism, the internet may function as an outlet for various frustrations or as a means of seeking information that had heretofore been avoided. Drugs and alcohol can be viewed in the same vein: kids experiment because there is a void they are trying to fill. If that void did not exist, or if there was something as fulfilling/satisfying that could fill the void, they would avoid the temptation because they are aware of where it can lead.

In my relationships with adolescents through the years, and in talking to colleagues in the field, I have a sense that the overwhelming majority of kids at risk would like nothing more than to remain within the system. The fact that they experiment, or engage in illicit behavior, is no indication that they have chosen to abandon the derech. I would not be at all surprised if the kids who rented bungalows in Monticello for their weekend of partying [which I am sure included promiscuous behavior and a great deal of chilul Shabbos] nevertheless made kiddush Friday night and made sure that the food was glatt!

Ki ein bayit asher ein sham meit. There is no home in which one will not find someone who is dead spiritually. Reportedly, Dr. Abraham Twerski has named this phenomena SDS - spiritual deficiency syndrome. Intellectually, our schools have been a phenomenal success. In the post-war period we have created a true dor deah. Our kids collectively learn more Mishnayot, more dapei gemara, more rishonim and achronim than previous generations. It is true that previous generations learned more deeply on an individual level - we would be hard-pressed to match the level of Slobodka and Volozhin - but that is because a decision was made in the wake of the Second World War to expand the yeshivot quantitatively at the expense of their quality. Spiritually, however, our yeshivot have become morgues. Little or no time is spent on real mussar; a yeshiva that has a short seder where talmidim who barely understand Hebrew rote-read Sha’arei Teshuvah or Mesilat Yesharim is paying lip service to the idea of mussar. Machshavah and communal responsibility are subjects that are almost never discussed on the high school level. Rav Yaakov Kaminetsky zt”l would often stress in his Thursday afternoon shmuzzen that talmidei yeshiva had an enormous debt to society in return for the opportunities provided them by the ba’alei battim who supported the yeshiva. Is there a single rosh yeshiva who echoes this sentiment today?

Instead of challenging teens within the yeshivot to discuss their feelings about their personal role in the world and to examine their Jewish personna, the mashgiach, mashpia, rosh yeshiva engages in a monologue focusing on how awful general society is and how superior we are as Jews. This often confounds the young man - or woman - who hears that he or she is a member of an am hanivchar but doesn’t really know what that implies or means. If he is superior, is he wrong in acting like a behemah when he burns garbage cans to protest infringements on his royal territory? When his mind has been distorted by years of hearing about his entitlement, is it any surprise that he relates to a woman like a cockroach and will shove her to the back of the bus if she invades his turf, because he ranks higher in the pyramid of life. Moreover, the talmid or talmidah often looks at their surroundings and wonders in which way is he or she really superior? In ethical behavior, in the treatment of his environment?

What transpires in the beit midrash when the rosh yeshiva or mashgiach tells the student that tefillah raises him to a level of kirvat Elokim that is the greatest source of joy that man can experience? A percentage of kids will accept this without even needing further elaboration, for they are endowed with a natural sense of spirituality that can recognize the satisfaction of a relationship with G-d. Another percentage wait for the speaker to demonstrate how this is possible and when he fails to do so, are frustrated but not yet ready to throw it all away. And then there is a percentage who say that the words of the teacher are empty phrases and when they recall them, deem them to be completely out of touch.

I have heard many speakers talk to high school students in Israel and the U.S. Those who made the greatest impact were the ones who understood that they were not standing in the beit midrash in Baranovich or Kaminetz. Those who had the least impact were those who were either back in Eastern Europe or who walked into the beit midrash poorly prepared to face reality. I recall one speaker in particular, an entertaining and eloquent man who called me after his presentation to ask for my critique. He could not understand why I felt that his talk had been a disaster. I found that his cynical attempts to denigrate popular culture had backfired whereas he felt that he had struck responsive chords because he had elicited so much laughter. Little did he realize that he had caused great damage because his remarks were so obviously based on a limited information bank. I would suggest, for example, that these type of rabbis avoid historical issues unless they are truly well versed in the fields they mention. There’s almost nothing more shattering to a teenager than hearing someone whom they are told to respect reveal his foolishness or ignorance. Kids are extraordinarily adept at discerning when the emperor is wearing no clothes.

A recent conversation with a young man who is no longer at risk, for he has completely left the derech, was an eye opener for me. I asked him why assimilating the worst of general culture was so seductive; e.g., multiple body piercing, tattoos, emulating gangs by adopting their greetings and hand communications, contemporary music motifs and language patterns borrowed from rap/ebonics. He answered with one word: passion. I then realized that this young man, driven away from our faith despite having received an excellent yeshiva education, viewed Judaism as something dry and suffocating, for his soul had never been developed. Without passion our souls cannot thrive and without our souls our bodies are seduced by general culture. Passion for what we do and finding real meaning in our mitzvos and learning is the only antidote to the malaise.

In pharmacological research there is a stage wherein an antidote has been developed and even field tested but is not ready for mass distribution because the manufacturer has not yet managed to synthesize it and thus make its production economically viable. I feel that the same is true in dealing with SDS - spiritual deficiency syndrome. We know what will work, we simply have not yet developed the means to inoculate as many people as possible. The challenge to do so is twofold: to those engaged on the battlefields and to those who stay back and provide the financial support. Until we develop a method of producing passionate talmidim, we will remain mired in expressing compassion for those who have left the fold.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

TURNING A SWORD INTO WORDS
Parashas Vayechi

V’ani nasati lecha shechem echad al achechah asher lakachti miyad ha-Emori b’charbi uv’kashti [Bereishis 48:22] ... and I have given you Shechem as an extra portion over [that given] your brothers which I took from the Emori with my sword and my bow.

The translation follows Rashi who explains that the city of Shechem is the extra portion granted Yosef above and beyond the single land allotment granted the other shevatim. This extra allotment had already been alluded to when Yosef came to visit Yaakov and was informed that Efraim and Menashe would be considered as separate shevatim given a portion like Yaakov’s sons [see pasuk 6]. A number of questions arise: If Yaakov’s berachah to Yosef was that Efraim and Menashe were to be considered individual shevatim, they should receive portions in the same manner as every other shevet. Divide the Land into twelve portions [shevet Levi not receiving an allotment] and have each shevet settle there [as was actually the case]. Yet here we find that the portion is preordained to be one specific city, an entitlement not granted any other shevet. Even the allusion that Zevulun would receive the seashore [49:13] was not a reference to or prophecy about a specific area. Furthermore, in the actual allotment of the land, Menashe and Efraim receive separate portions that are not even contiguous. We do not find that they were given Shechem [which was indeed in the allotment of Efraim] and one other piece of land.

Second, why is Shechem specifically granted to Yosef? Moreover, Yaakov’s assertion that he had captured the city with his sword and bow seems to be somewhat disingenuous. If anything, the fact that the city was forcibly taken by Shimon and Levi in the process of saving Dinah was not a chapter of which Yaakov was particularly proud. The Targum explains charbi vekashti as being an allusion to prayer; however, we do not find that Yaakov prayed for the capture of Shechem. On the contrary, it is one of three places in Israel [M’aras ha-Machpalah and Har ha-Bayis are the other two] where our ancestors - in this case Yaakov - actually purchased the land.

As we had previously noted [see comments to parashas Vayeshev], Shechem and Chevron represent different aspects of our national character. It was to Shechem that the shevatim retired in order to take counsel regarding their problem with Yosef and it is Shechem where the rebel monarchy of Yeravam is established [before the construction of Shomron], for Shechem represents the unwillingness to accept collective authority, whereas it is in Chevron that Dovid first establishes his rule over the entire nation [later moving to Yerushalayim]. In the aftermath of the Yehudah/Yosef controversies, Yaakov realizes that he cannot grant Yosef dominion - the other shevatim will simply not accept this decision [see 49:8 atah yoducha achecha - your brothers acknowledge you as leader]. However, he is not constrained in treating Yosef as the bechor and therefore awards him Shechem as a gift to Yosef, for Shechem is the portion of the land that he clearly has the right to allocate since he purchased it. The gift of any other parcels could be contested since they were the shevatim’s by virtue of the Divine promise to Avraham. Shechem, however was different, because Yaakov had paid for it himself.

Ibn Ezra and Rashi to Tehillim both translate Shechem as a portion. We can thus say that the granting of the city to Yosef was not in place of an extra allotment in the division of Israel. Efraim and Menashe received individual portions in fulfillment of Yaakov’s promise that they would be considered individual shevatim. Shechem was an extra portion granted as a gift to Yosef, perhaps, as Ramban writes, compensation to Yosef for his suffering. Could there be a greater gesture of love from Yaakov to Yosef than to present him with the city where he had gone to search for his brothers and from where he had been sold as a slave?

As we have seen, the Targum translates charbi vekashti as my prayers. Abarbanel comments that clearly the Targum chose to be homiletic in his interpretation, for not only do we not find that Yaakov prayed for Shechem, he also did not do physical battle to win the city. In reality, he purchased the site. Rather, the phrase charbi vekashti is a metaphoric reference to the power that enabled Yaakov to succeed, which the Targum suggessts is his ability to pray. Perhaps we might expand upon this notion and suggest that charbi vekashti represents the various and varying powers that Yaakov had at his disposal. See, for example the beginning of Vayishlach when he confronts Esav after his Lavan experience. Rashi, based on the Midrash, explains that Yaakov was prepared to either pray, battle or pacify Esav by bribing him; the method he would choose was dependent upon which was the most effective at the moment. If it was necessary to pay, he was prepared to do that; if fighting would be more effecacious he would do that and if prayer would be the best option he could do that. All of them are charbi vekashti - the arsenal at Yaakov's disposal.
THE TABLES TURN - PART II
Parashas Vayigash

The parashah begins with Yehudah approaching Yosef to plead that he be accepted as a substitute for Binyamin who had been arrested for theft. Ramban questions why the Torah finds it necessary to recount the details of Yehudah’s retelling of a story that had already appeared in parashas Miketz and suggests that Yehudah was attempting to somehow arouse compassion in Yosef so that he might agree to the substitution. The Targum Yerushalmi gives us a different spin on Yehudah’s monologue suggesting that Yehudah was threatening Yosef and retold the story to impress upon the Egyptian viceroy just how far he was prepared to take things to protect his brother.

I would like to suggest a third approach, based on what we quoted from Reb Tzaddok ha-Kohen and the Netziv regarding the confrontation between Yosef and Yehudah and the long term implications vis-a-vis the leadership of klal Yisrael. As we noted previously, Yosef suspected that his brothers were not always consistent in their beliefs about hashgachah pratis and its application to them. A life based on a relationship that transcends nature demands much more from the practitioner than a lifestyle based on a hashgachah klalis relationship; i.e., the more direct G-d’s intervention, the more that is expected of you. Much of Yosef’s criticism that he had brought to his father’s attention was based on his perception that the brothers were not as “frum” as they should be given the way that they interpreted their relationship to Hashem - an allegation that they resented and for which they bore him great animosity.

As we have seen, Yehudah had convinced his brothers to throw Yosef into the pit precisely to teach him that they were living under hashgachah klalis and we can assume that given the linked chain of events that brought Yosef to power in Egypt, he had gotten the message.

Concurrently, Yosef decided to test his brothers appreciation of hashgachah pratis through a series of linked events. How would they interpret that having being sent to Egypt for food they had been singled out to meet with the viceroy, accused of being spies, watched helplessly as Shimon - the most volatile of them - was separated from them, were seated at the royal table according to their ages which they had not revealed, were questioned relentlessly about their father, were ordered to bring their little brother or nothing would be sold to them and then witnessed the set-up of arresting Binyamin? Would they maintain that this was happenstance or hashgachah pratis? And if they saw it as hasgachah pratis, would they make the connection to the fact that they had sold Yosef into slavery? We might assume that Yosef was prepared to relinquish sovereignty to Yehudah; i.e., admit that Yehudah’s approach was correct. However, he was only prepared to do so if Yehudah was consistent in this belief and accepted the ramifications. He therefore waited to see, how Yehudah would react.

It would seem that Yehudah understood that this was a test even if he did not know that it was being administered by Yosef. In parashas Miketz the brothers already give voice to the link between the events that are transpiring and the sale of Yosef and their lack of mercy. Perhaps we can view Yehudah’s long opening monologue as a sort of vidui - which requires him to not only have remorse but also to recount his sins. In parashas Miketz he had only obliquely mentioned that there had once been another brother, here he specifically mentions the anguish of his father of losing both of the sons born to his favored wife, an exceedingly hard statement for yehudah to make to a stranger. But when he does so, Yosef sees that he is sincere and can therefore reveal himself to his brothers.
THE TABLES TURN
Parashas Miketz

Vayar Yosef es echav vayakireim, vayisnaker aleihem ... vayaker Yosef es echav v’heim lo hikiruhu [Beresihis 42:7-8] ... And Yosef saw his brothers and he recognized them and he was a stranger to them ... and Yosef recognized his brothers but they did not recognize him.

Rashi offers two explanations as to why the recognition was not mutual; because Yosef was now bearded and the brothers had last seen him as a young man, or homiletically, Yosef recognized them as his brothers and treated them mercifully in contrast to their actions, when they held his fate in their hands and failed to treat him mercifully. Perhaps one can detect an allusion to these two interpretations in that the Torah seems to redudantly repeat the fact that Yosef recognized his brothers. Nevertheless, the redundancy is puzzling.

Both the Ibn Ezra and S’forno note that first Yosef saw them as a group and only afterwards recognized them individually. The Netziv expands this idea somewhat and comments that when Yosef first saw them, he recognized that they had not changed at all. He therefore spoke to them harshly [vayisnaker aleihem] hoping that this might effect a change, but it did not. The Torah therefore repeats the phrase to emphasize that Yosef saw that things had not changed and even when he had provided motivation, the shevatim still failed to recognize him.

We would do well at this point to try to understand what Yosef was trying to accomplish. What purpose was served by not revealing himself? Some commentaries maintain that he sought to find out whether their hatred for him extended to Binyamin and he therefore tested them. However, one is tempted to wonder what he would have done had he discovered that indeed they did harbor animosity for Binyamin. It would have complicated things greatly and perhaps everyone would be best off with a staus quo. Others maintain that Yosef felt it was necessary to bring his dreams to fruition and he therefore manipulated events to cause this to happen. This too leaves me wondering, for if the dreams were prophecy, it is not up to Yosef to make them come true.

The analysis that follows is based on Rav Tzadok Hakohen of Lublin who sees this parashah as a continuation of the battle between Yosef and Yehudah for sovereignty over the emerging Jewish nation. The two brothers had two very different approaches toward the role of leadership and to the nature of the Divine relationship with the descendants of Yaakov. Yosef maintained that although there was a promise of hashgachah pratis that would always protect them, the ideal was to live a life wherein man would seek kirvas Elokim within hashgachah klalis. Yehudah, on the other hand, maintained that this type of aspiration was attainable only by tzaddikim and would never work for most people. The collective recognition of G-d’s role in this world and thus, the obligation to subjugate one’s will and act in accordance with His, would best find expression if there was a more obvious [i.e., hashgachah pratis] relationship.

The Netziv would seem to suggest a similar explanation. In explaining the difference between the names Yaakov and Yisrael, which seem to be used almost interchangeably in these parshios, he comments that Yaakov represents the desire to live within nature whereas Yisrael represents the relationship of Israel and Hashem that transcends nature. Yaakov always preferred to remain Yaakov - the man who lives within nature - [see Midrash at the beginning of parashas Vayeshev - bikesh Yaakov leshev b’shalvah - Yaakov sought to live in serenity as Yaakov and not as Yisroel] which was, perhaps, the reason why he loved Yosef so much, for they shared this objective.

When the brothers first had the chance to deal with Yosef and their animosity toward him, the consensus of opinion had been to put him to death. It was Yehudah who suggested that they refrain from doing so, pointing out [37:26] mah betzah ki naharog es achinu - we will accomplish nothing by killing him; i.e., we will not resolve the fundamental difference in approach that caused the disagreement. On the contrary, let us throw him into a pit and he will see for himself that he cannot survive without hashgachah pratis - a Divinely tuned set of miracles that will save him. Indeed, Yehudah is correct, for had Yosef not been sold to Potiphar, seduced by his wife, incarcerated with the sar hatabachim and ofim and given the opportunity to interpret their dreams, he would have never had the opportunity to be introduced to Pharoah so as to be able to interpret his dreams - clearly a chain of events that had no natural explanation.

Yosef accepts that the evidence is a clear sign of Divine Providence. [See 41:28 where Yosef tells Pharoah that the dreams are not meaningless but a sign that G-d is allowing him to know what is about to transpire.] This in itself would have made him unrecognizable to his brothers, for it was an aspect of his personality that had never been revealed; the willingness to accept the opinion or viewpoint of another. But he suspects the sincerity of his brothers who had professed to be subscribers to Yehudah’s point of view.

In the aftermath of his sale, a famine breaks out and the brothers are forced to go to Egypt to purchase provisions. They are not the only people dependent upon the ample stocks of Egypt; people are arriving from everywhere. Yet, they are singled out to be brought to the Egyptian viceroy. Surely there were more important matters for this man to busy himself with, yet he interrogates them personally, accuses them of being spies, makes a series of personal inquiries that are completely irrelevant, incarcerates the brother who they know is the most volatile, and then sends them back to bring their youngest brother as if this will prove that they are honest. Would there not be room to think that people who believed in hashgachah pratis would have asked themselves, what does this all mean? Would it not be logical that one of them would recall Yosef’s dreams and say: “What’s happening seems to be a fulfillment of those dreams. Maybe ... possibly ... this is all connected to Yosef?”

In the end it is Yehudah who approaches Yosef. It is Yehudah who realizes that despite his own firm belief in hashgachah and a life that embodies supernatural interventions and miracles, there are and will be situations where that Providence is hidden. It is up to him to pacify this man and win his brother’s release. Thus, he proposes to Yosef that he is prepared to accept his fate as a slave to Yosef and let nature run its course. It is the supreme gesture of admission of powerlessness and will lead Yosef to reveal his identity. Rav Tzadok concludes his analysis of the disagreement between the brothers by pointing out that although it is Yosef who is referred to as tzaddik by Chazal, it is Yehudah to whom Yaakov gives sovereignty. Moshe Rabbenu - in his final charge to the people in parashas V’zos ha-Berachah - points out that it is Yehudah who has the capability of being the leader of the people - v’el amo tivienu - it is Yehudah who will bring kirvas Elokim to the nation as a whole.
WHAT’S IN A PLACE
Parashas Vayeshev

Vayelchu echav l’iros es tzon avihem b’Schem. Vayomer Yisrael el Yosef: halo achecha ro’im b’Schem, l’cha v’eshlachacha aleihem, vayomer lo hineni [Bereishis 37:13-14] ... And his [Yosef’s] brothers went to graze the sheep in Shechem. And Yisroel said to Yosef: your brothers have gone to Shechem, go and I will send you to them, and he [Yosef] said, I am ready.

Rav Yaakov Kaminetsky zt”l often stressed that it is a mistake to try to judge the actions of the forefathers - or for that matter all figures in Tanach - using contemporary standards of morality or values. This does not contradict the Ramban’s view [parashas Lech Lecha] that the incidents in Chumash Bereishis are a lesson in ma’aseh avos siman l’banim. On the contrary, all agree that we clearly can and must learn from the way the avos rose to the challenges in their lifetimes and strive to apply these lessons in our own lives. Examining the choices and actions of the forefathers is a fulfillment of this directive and should not be taken as a lack of respect or an attempt to denigrate them.

The challenges of members of a family who fail to get along is a theme that recurs throughout Bereishis. Beginning with Kayin and Hevel, Yitzchak and Yishmael, through Yaakov and Esav, we seem to be almost repeating ourselves. If anything, one would think that Yaakov, who suffered so greatly from the jealousy of a brother, would have been especially aware of the possible repercussions. Yet the Torah tells us that he loved Yosef more than any of his sons and that he provided Yosef with a ketones pasim - a symbol of royalty [37:3]. Why would Yaakov be so blatant in his favoritism.

The Torah then goes on to tell us about the dreams and the reaction of Yosef’s brothers to his insistence on repeating them; intensified hatred! Does Yaakov intervene or comment? Only when he and Rachel are included in the second dream do we find Yaakov speaking and his comment is cryptic. Rashi comments that he pointed out to the brothers that Rachel was no longer alive and thus the dream was obviously not a prophetic vision since it could not be fulfilled. Hence, they should dismiss the entire episode. Yet, despite this, v’Yaakov shamar es hadavar - Yaakov waited for the time when the dream would come true for he knew that it was indeed prophecy [see Rashi].

Obviously, Yaakov is aware of the poisoned relationship in his family. Directly after the episode with the dreams, his ten sons leave home, ostensibly to graze their sheep but more likely to take counsel regarding what they should do about Yosef [see Or haChaim]. The dreams occur in Chevron, yet they travel all the way north to Shechem. Why did they need to go so far and why specifically to Shechem; not the safest place even then for nice Jewish boys?

Yaakov is concerned - most likely because they are in Shechem [see Targum Yonasan]. How did he know that they were there? If they told him that this was their destination and he feared for their safety, why did he not tell them not to go? He sends Yosef of all people to check up on them - didn’t he consider the possibility that Yosef’s sudden appearance might cause them to act irresponsibly?

The Midrash [quoted by Rashi 37:14] comments that the episode of the sale of Yosef is the beginning of the exile to Egypt that G-d revealed in response to Avraham’s question, “How will I know if my children are worthy of the promises You have made to me?” When Yaakov sent Yosef to check on his brothers, he was really beginning the galus, indicating that he felt that the time was now ripe for the process to begin.

Interestingly, Chevron and Shechem will continue to play a role in Jewish history and always represent much more than just two cities on the map of Eretz Yisrael. Chevron is the city most associated with shevet Yehudah; it is the personal nachalah of Kalev and it is here that David becomes king and reigns for seven years. Shechem is the original seat of power of Yeravam, the paradigm of Yehuda’s weakness as a leader of the entire people. Shechem represents divisiveness or am Yisrael’s lack of a shared destiny while Chevron would seem to represent am Yisrael in her nascent stage of common purpose and direction [as opposed to Yerushalayim/Tzion which represents am Yisrael in her mature stage].

When Yaakov came to Chevron after returning from Charan, he knew that the time was almost ripe for the fulfillment of the prophecy of bris bein habesarim - i.e., the period of exile meant to establish that his children were worthy of the promise to Avraham. It was for this reason, perhaps, that he settled in Chevron rather than in Be’er Sheva, for this was an integral part of the creation of the Jewish nation, similar to Dovid’s first years as king.

In Yaakov’s judgement, Yosef is the son most worthy of leadership and he presents him with the ktones pasim - the royal cloak - to indicate that this is his choice. In this sense, he seems to be showing that he loves him more than the other brothers, for he is giving Yosef something extra. At least that is the way they understand the present [contrast this to Yitzchak’s apparent extra measure of love for Esav (25:28) which is based on an objective reason]. The brothers apparently attempt to convince Yaakov that he is overestimating Yosef, pointing out that he is immature and vain [37:2] but Yaakov is unconvinced. For Yosef to succeed, he needs a show of parental support so as to be strengthened to the point whereby he can survive his brothers’ animosity.

When he hears about Yosef’s dreams he immediately understands that the galus is about to begin. The shevatim, seeing that their father does not react, decide to take counsel with each other and withdraw to Shechem, the location that symbolizes unwillingness to accept centralized rule in am Yisrael. [Remember that it is in Shechem that Shimon and Levi acted as individuals without consulting their father or their brothers.] Yaakov prophetically understands that if his sons are not in Chevron, then they must have gone to Shechem and sends Yosef to them. Yes, he knows that they hate him. Yes, he knows that Yosef is in danger. But if Yosef is to lead them in exile, he must prove himself capable. There is no executive fiat possible here. There can only be rule - true rule - if there is consensus and Yosef has no choice but to prove himself worthy.

Chachmah bagoyim ta’amin. Rick Lavoie, who is to my mind one of the wisest people dealing in special education, has a training tape in which he points out that we often consider things unfair if someone gets more than we do. [Interestingly, there is no word for fair in lashon ha-kodesh.] How often do we hear our children accuse us of being unfair when we give something to one and fail to do so for another. How often did we accuse our teachers of playing favorites. Sometimes this criticism is justified and should be avoided. However, there are times when it is not only unjustified, but detrimental. He offers the following scenario. Imagine that you’re seated in a restaurant and someone begins choking. You know how to do the Heimlich procedure but you decide not to do so, because if you do it for one person, then you’ll have to do it for everyone. We have confused giving something extra to one person as a sign of extra love when in fact it is really a sign of extra need. I admit that this is one of the hardest lessons to teach our children but as Yaakov demonstrated, it is a vital part of their education as people.
WHAT’S IN A NAME - PART 3
Parashas Vayishlach

Vayomer shalcheini ki ala hashachar, vayomer lo ashalechicha ki im berachtani. Vayomer elav ma shme’cha, vayomer Yaakov. Vayomer lo Yaakov ye’amer od shmecha ki im Yisrael [Bereishis 32:27-29] And he [the angel] said: “Release me for the dawn has risen,” and he [Yaakov] said: “I will not release you until you bless me. And he [the angel] asked: “What is your name?” and he [Yaakov] responds: “Yaakov.” And he [the angel] said: “Your name shall no longer be Yaakov, rather it shall be Yisrael.”

There are a number of questions that immediately arise. The angel in question here is saro shel Esav - Esav’s guiding angel, the supernatural force representing the interests of Esav in the celestial courts. He, upon seeing Yaakov return from Lavan’s home to Eretz Canaan ready to begin the fulfillment of Yitzchak’s blessing to Yaakov, chooses the appropriate moment to wage war. He is unsuccessful for the most part [although he does seriously injure Yaakov causing us to forego filet mignon because of the difficulty of removing the gid hanasheh from the hindquarters] and at dawn they have battled to a standstill. Yaakov refuses to release the angel until the latter blesses him. Strange, why would Yaakov want and/or need a blessing from the angel representing Esav? Imagine someone trying to mug you. You fight him off and then prevent him from getting away, not because you want to continue fighting, not because you want to hand him over to the authorities, but because you want him to bless you! The Midrash explains that Yaakov wanted the angel to agree - in Esav’s name - that he was the rightful possessor of the blessings of Yitzchak; i.e., that Esav would no longer contend that Yaakov had taken this berachah illegally. Nonetheless, it would seem that Yaakov was asking for more than a simple cease fire with Esav.

The angel in response asks Yaakov, “What is your name?” Again, a strange question. He’s saro shel Esav, a ministering angel who desparately needs to be released because his turn has come to sing G-d’s praises, not some random hoodlum lurking in dark alleys waiting for some nameless victim to come by. How could he not know Yaakov’s name?

When Yaakov informs him, the angel responds: “your name shall no longer be Yaakov.” The Hebrew construct in the passuk is almost impossible to translate into readable English. In my translation above I omitted the word ye’amer which literally means that the angel informed Yaakov that his name would no longer be “said” as Yaakov in the future. While it is true that the name was actually only changed later and not at this juncture; the usual form for introducing a name is koreh - to call; hence, the passuk should have said yikareh - will be called - rather than ye’amer - will be said.

The fact that the angel informs Yaakov of what will happen would not seem to be an adequate response to Yaakov’s condition for releasing him. Moreover, in what sense does an angelic prophecy serve as a blessing?

As we have noted over the past two weeks, the name that one is given is a reflection of a person’s essence [e.g., Naval sh’mo u’kishmo kein hu]. When Yaakov was given his name, it reflected his esssence - see the quote from S’forno in parashat Toldos that Yaakov means that he is destined to stay the distance. I would conjecture that a name has meaning in all of its translations; i.e., no matter what the source of the name Yaakov, all of the connotations of that name are reflected in the person who bears it. Esav’s statement [27:36] would seem to suggest that Yaakov’s name came from the fact that he had interceded in matters rather than allowing nature to run its course. This was true of his relationship with Esav where he had taken the bechorah as well as birkat Yitzchak so as to prevent it from being misused. It was also true of his relationship with Lavan where he had manipulated the birth of the spotted sheep.

Upon his return to Eretz Canaan, Yaakov would have been content to refrain from this activist role - see Midrash to the first passuk in parashas Vayeshev. Indeed, when his daughter Dinah is taken by Shechem and Chamor, Yaakov decries the reaction of Shimon and Levi even though their response to him when asked why they had killed the two brings nothing but silence from Yaakov, indicating that their actions were not incorrest.

When Yaakov finally has a few moments alone and the time to try to interpret all that has occurred since he left his family, he is confronted by an angel. The appearance of the angel must have made Yaakov realize that he would not be allowed to sit back and enjoy the nachas from his children and grandchildren. He enters the fray and asks for a berachah, some substantiation that this battle has meaning. The angel asks him a rhetorical question: “What is your name?”; i.e., how do you see yourself. Yaakov answers that he thinks that his name Yaakov indicates who he is. The angel answers that your name may have the same letters, but what it says about you [ye’amer] has now changed. Your return from Charan marks the emergence of a new man on the scene; no longer Yaakov the one who reacts [Yaakov as in ekev - as a result of] who hangs onto Esav’s heel rather than emerging first. You are about to become Yisrael - the sar of Hashem. Your children are destined to shape history, to receive G-d’s word at Sinai and to serve as His messengers to all people. This is a new Yaakov emerging, one who also bears the name Yisrael. [Note that unlike Avraham who may not be referred to as Avram once his name has been changed, the names Yaakov and Yisrael are often interchanged suggesting that the quality of Yisrael was already inherent in Yaakov.]

There is a powerful lesson here. Man has no predestined limitations. He can spend his life in a self woven cocoon or he can break out of his restraints and find new talents and resources within himself that can better himself and those around him.
WHAT'S IN A NAME - II
Parashas Vayetze

There is a tradition in many communities to allow the wife to choose the name of the first born child. Subsequent children are then named by the father or by the consensus of opinion of the parents. There is also a tradition to name a child after a forefather - especially when that forebear is especially illustrious.

In this week's parashah, we find that neither tradition is used. Leah names all of her children as well as the sons of her maidservant and Rachel names her son and the children of her maidservant. It is only with the birth of Rachel's second son that Yaakov is given a chance, and his role is limited to changing the name from Ben Oni to Binyomin.

In addition, the Midrash notes that Yitzchak had sent Esav out to hunt as part as part of the preparations of the seudat havra'ah marking Avraham's death. Why would none of his twelve sons bear the name of their great [tartei mashma] grandfather? [A perusal of Tanach reveals that there are very few places where we find people named after forebears. I would be most appreciative to any reader who has ever seen any research or commentary on this subject.]

The names that Leah chose seem to be a kind of tefilla: Reuven recognizing Hashem for having given her child, Shimon acknowledging Hashem for hearing that she was disliked, Levi an expression of hope that her husband would now seek her company. She then bears a fourth son and says: ha-pa'am odeh es Hashem - at this point I can now thank G-d [see Rashi and Targum].

Why did she have to wait for the fourth son to use the expression of hodayah - thankfulness? The Midrash explains that Leah foresaw that Yaakov was destined to have four wives and twelve sons. Thus, when she bore a fourth son, she recognized that she had received more than her share and she therefore acknowledged G-d.

The gemara notes that the name Yehudah is applied to one who denies idolatry which is why we as a nation are referred to as Yehudim - Jews. What is the co-relation between denying idolatry and this fourth son? We could have been called Shimonites or Yosefites and have had those names represent our belief in Hashem.

I would like to suggest that Leah felt that the birth of a fourth son - when all would see that she was the beneficiary of an extra measure of Divine grace - was the time to tell the world about her gratitude, for it is specifically at a point when one has received more than they deserve that it is important that we realize and recognize that all is a gift from G-d.

R' Itzele of Volozhin [son of R. Chaim and father-in-law of the Netziv] points out that Lavan hated Yaakov more than Esav did, because he understood that his phenomenal wealth was a result of Yaakov's presence in his home. Lavan was unable to even consider the idea that his successes were all a gift or the result of someone else's efforts. Cognizance of man's dependence upon G-d or upon other people was simply not a part of his lexicon.

Moreover, Lavan lived with a sense of entitlement [sound familiar] and if he was granted great riches, then he must deserve them. It was his only his daughter who had the sense to look at the world and recognize the truth. This is the middah of the denier of avodah zarah; a capacity to not wallow in self-delusion but to recognize truth.

In the case of the shevatim, each of their names represents a midah of recognition of Hashem that only the imahot were capable of seeing. Our recognition of our ultimate dependence on chasdei Hashem is one of the most important lessons that we can impart to our children. Doing so demands that we demonstrate this with our words and actions - tefillah and Torah study. If a child never sees his father look at a sefer, why should we expect that child to attach any importance to Torah? If his mother is always to busy to daven, why should he not make excuses for himself?

If we truly want to keep our children on the derech and raise them as Yehudim, we would do well to emulate Leah and give expression to our gratitude and recognition of the grace of G-d that permeates our lives.
WHAT’S IN A NAME ?
Parashas Toldos


When Hashem informed Avraham about the impending birth of Yitzchak, He also instructed him regarding the name that the child was to be given. As regards Avraham himself, it would appear that either Terach or his wife [Amsalai according to the Talmud in Bava Basra 91a] chose the name. Avram has significance for it stems from the words av and ram [great father symbolizing Avraham’s role in spreading monotheism throughout the world]. Terach’s or his wife’s choice must have been prescient, for Hashem, when He later changes Avraham’s name does not choose a completely new appellation, but rather adds a single letter indicating that the parents had accurately chosen. This is consistent with the view of many of the commentators who point to the choosing of a name as a minor form of prophecy. [See the discussion in Shmuel I regarding Avigail’s statement that her husband’s name was Naval and her additional comment that kishmo kein hu – his behavior befits the name].

Rav Samson Rafael Hirsch explains that when Adam ha-rishon gave names to the animals [and when he first called his wife Ishah and subsequently renamed her Chava], he was describing their essence. In other words, Adam did not choose random letters or sounds to combine into words; rather, he studied each animal and after seeing what it did and determining its inherent and genetic characteristics, he gave it a name that captured those qualities. In a similar vein, Netziv explains that Hevel was called that name [which means something worthless] because he did not initiate anything new in the world. It would thus seem that names are primarily a reflection of what the child brings to the table rather an indication of potential or aspirations.

Interestingly, in this week’s parashah, we find a change in the naming procedure. When Esav is born, the Torah writes: vayikr’u shmo Esav – and they [probably Yitzchak and Rivkah] called him Esav. Rashi explains that the name Esav was given to him because he was fully formed [osui]; i.e., he looked like a developed child even at birth. On the other hand, in reference to Yaakov, the Torah states: vayikra – he was called – using the singular. The Midrash comments that Yaakov was named by Hashem.

The Torah does not explain why he was given the name Yaakov. One would assume that it is connected to the fact that he was born holding onto the ekev –ankle – of Esav. Indeed, this would probably be true had he been named by either his parents or by the midwives who delivered Rivkah. Siforno, however, writes that he was given this name because he was destined to play a significant role until the end of days – the word ekev used in the sense of being a prime cause as in parashat Ekev in Sefer Devarim - a role that only Hashem could discern.

Many of the commentaries question how it is possible that two children – Esav and Yaakov – could grow up with the same parents, in the same household, with the same role models, yet turn out so diametrically different. One could easily reach the conclusion that raising children is a matter of luck and little that one does will change what is inevitable - not one of the most encouraging propositions to say the least. Rav Hirsch maintains that the difference between Yaakov and Esav had to do with the parenting skills of Yitzchak and Rivkah, but that is the subject for another article.

I would like to suggest that the personality differences between Esav and Yaakov may be a result of the names they were given. Esav was completely formed, he was not going to grow or change. He was what he was and would remain at that moral level. Yaakov, on the other hand, was a mover, destined to be a significant player throughout his existence. From the very beginning he was attempting to change situations, grabbing hold of Esav’s ankle to try to prevent him from being born as the bechor and when that failed, creating a situation wherein Esav would relinquish his birthright. Even Esav understood this, exclaiming va’ya’akveini zeh pa’amayim – twice he has held me back – using the root ekev to indicate that this was the essence of Yaakov’s essence.

As parents we can decide that our children are what they are, destined to follow a certain path that we can do little to influence, change or direct. The older that they get, the more difficult the task, for they, like all of us, are subject to the laws of inertia and reluctant to change. “Mom, Dad, Abba, Ima, why can’t you just accept me for what I am?” they cry out to us. We have to answer that Hashem named them as descendents of Yaakov. Like their forefather, they are capable of incredible change, of being able to influence their own lives as well as the world around them. Even when they fail, as did Yaakov when he first grabbed Esav’s ankle, that does not mean that they should give up. They can be raised as tamim and yoshvei ohalim yet nevertheless persevere in the most difficult circumstances.


SHIDDUCHIM CRISIS – VERSION I
Parashas Chayei Sarah

Avraham’s dilemma in finding a suitable match for Yitzchak does not sound all that unfamiliar; he had a son who was unique and a dearth of options. On the one hand he could choose a local girl, on the other hand he could go back to the old country and look for a worthy young lady there. The former option had a drawback in that middot were not, to put it mildly, particularly well-developed in the Land of Canaan while the latter option, albeit the presence of his family, meant selecting a candidate from a society where idolatry was still rampant. Given the choices, Avraham instructs Eliezer to go back to Charan and Ur Kasdim, which would seem to indicate that he held that avodah zarah was less of a threat to personal development than moral corruption. However, Avraham adds a condition that under no circumstances is Eliezer to take Yitzchak back to Charan/Ur Kasdim. If the girl refuses to leave her home and move to Canaan, forget about the shidduch.

The reasoning here seems to be a little bit difficult to understand. What would have happened if Rivkah had told Eliezer that she did not want to go back to Canaan because she was afraid of the influence that the local populace would have on her children. [Interestingly, when she subsequently sends Yaakov back to Charan to look for his own shidduch, she tells Yitzchak specifically that she is doing so for this reason – katzti b’chayai m’bnot Chet.] Eliezer, by virtue of the terms of his mission, would have had to inform her that the deal was off. Yet, Avraham, in sending Eliezer to Charan, had made his decision precisely on those grounds.

Kli Yakar adds another question. Lavan, Rivkah’s brother and the broker in this shidduch, is one of the most nefarious liars and thieves we know [see the Netziv’s essay, Sh’ar Yisrael, where he refers to Lavan as the archetype of anti-Semites throughout history]. Aside from being an idolator like the other members of his community [remember that his daughter Rachel steals his terafim when she leaves his home and he chases Yaakov and his entourage to retrieve them], he is a cheat and a liar who attempts to destroy Yaakov. If there was ever a family to be avoided, it would seem that it was Lavan’s! Yet it is here that Eliezer ends up in what seems to be a clear case of Hashgachah p’ratis [as Lavan himself admits when he agrees to the match]. Why would circumstances create a situation that would point Eliezer specifically in this direction?

Kli Yakar answers that there is a difference between the influence that one’s upbringing has and that society has. As difficult as it is not to be swept into a situation where one worships idolatry, one must keep in mind that idol worship is an intellectual failing and can be logically overcome – as was true of Avraham himself. Despite growing up in the home of Terach, a purveyor of idols, Avraham was able to reject their worship. A mind that respects truth will ultimately prevail and understand that worshipping the creation of one’s own hands is ridiculous. On the other hand, lack of middot creates a peer pressure that is virtually impossible to resist, for it is ta’avah driven and once allowed to fester uncontrolled, it is almost impossible to defeat. Thus, the fact that Rivkah had been brought up in the home of idolators like Lavan was transcendable, as long as she did not remain in that home and as long as Yitzchak was not brought into that home. If she possessed the proper middot, as determined by the test created by Eliezer, one could assume that she could be a proper wife for Yitzchak and had not been contaminated by the influences of her birthplace. According to Kli Yakar, it is more difficult to reject the influences of the place where one lives than it is to transcend the shortcomings of one’s background.

Perhaps this might help us understand why it was so important for Avraham to leave Charan, despite the fact that he had been so successful in his kiruv work there. Ultimately, Charan and Ur Kasdim would have influenced Avraham’s descendents whereas by moving to Canaan, they would always be considered as outsiders and thus less amenable to the peer pressures of that society.

I would only add that there is a great deal of mussar that we can take from this parashah – even if we are not yet in the parashah of shidduchim. Our children are clearly susceptible to the influences of the society in which they live, and it is our job to make sure that they understand through our words and example that we consider ourselves to be separate. Yitzchak was not to be allowed to assimilate culturally into Canaan by taking a local girl, for doing so would have spelled the end of the promise made to Avraham. We too must look for the ways to make it clear to our kids that we reject the middot and other outward manifestations of the culture in which we find ourselves, seeking instead to link ourselves to our past – even if it is Charan!


Children - who needs them?
Parashas Vayera

Vayomer Avrom, Hashem Elokim, mah titein li? … And Avrom said: Hashem Elokim, what will You give me? … [Bereishis 15:2]

Hashem appears to Avrom after he has successfully intervened in the war between the nation/states of Canaan. Avram has been blessed by MalkiTzedek and now Hashem adds His blessing, assuring Avrom that 1] he will be Divinely protected from his enemies [anochi magen lach] and 2] his reward will be exceedingly great [scharcha harbei m'od]. Avram's reaction to this unprecedented Divine promise is not, chas veshalom, disbelief; it is dissatisfaction! Hashem, Avrom seems to be complaining, Your promises are not meaningful [mah titein li] nor are they what I seek. I have no children and this is the area of my need. Hashem responds and tells Avram that he will have children. Avram accepts the promise without comment and this is considered to be an indication of Avram's righteousness [vayachsheveha lo tzedaka].

The entire dialogue is somewhat disconcerting. If Hashem promises Avraham a reward that is exceedingly great in Hashem's eyes, why would Avrom complain, at this point, about the fact that he has no children? If anything, it seems like lousy timing. Moreover, why does it seem that Hashem remembers to tell Avram that he will have children only as a result of Avram’s complaint?

We really should be asking ourselves why Avram felt so cheated by his lack of children? Why do people want kids so badly? If we want them because we trust that they will take care of us when we reach the age that we can no longer care for ourselves; well, I hate to inform you but it's probably the worst investment that you will ever make. If you figure the tuition bills, the food bills, the doctor bills, the added cost of car insurance et. al.; had you never had kids think how much money you would now have to hire really decent and professional help rather than having to rely on the good intentions of your sons or daughters!

Undoubtedly, the primary drive for having children is because they give us a sense of fulfillment of purpose that we would otherwise be lacking. My rebbi used to tell us that children are nitzchiyus, a connection to the eternal for which we all strive. Through our children and our children's children we feel that we continue to make an impact on the world around us. Without this feeling, we might easily become depressed contending that nothing that we do has any meaning beyond the present. This negativity would crush any creativity and purpose, permitting all types of deviant behavior based on the premise that no-one really cares what we do.

Chazakah ein adam m’kaneh livno – it is a given [or normal] that no man is jealous of his son’s accomplishments. On the contrary, our greatest source of satisfaction is having our children be more successful than we are. Each generation adds another level or story in the edifice of l’taken olam b’malchus Shakai and it is only when that building will be complete that our human mission will have been met.

Avram had successfully stood up in battle against the mightiest warriors and kings, he was wealthy and famous, the leader of his generation [as attested to by the berachah of Malki Tzedek], a man of unchallenged influence in every society. If all he sought was eternal fame, a name that would be known forever, then he did not need children. Hashem was testing him by withholding children, examining if Avram was content to rest on his own laurels or sought to continue to build.

Too often we find people using their children as a means to cover up their own shortcomings, demanding that the sons and daughters achieve things that they could not. For many parents kids are their bragging rights at kiddush in shul, a means of one upping everyone else by relating Yossi or Rivkie’s latest achievement. But if we share with our children the sense of nitzchius that they represent, it will provide them with a sense of purpose that can keep them on the derech to kirvat Elokim.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

THE GORALOT

In the Torah reading for Yom Kippur morning, the Torah describes the special avodah of the kohen gadol on Yom Kippur, an avodah that was closely watched by the nation for it was meant to serve as a means of national kapparah. So crucial was this avodah that a magical means of ascertaining its efficacy was provided, the lashon shel z’horit which changed from red to white when the servicee had been performed in the prescribed manner. Clearly, this entire ceremony has intense symbolism.

One of the most intriguing part of this kapparah service was the selection of the two s’eirim; one to be offered on the mizbeach as a chat’os and the other [also referred to as a chat’os] which was sent off into the desert and then thrown off a steep cliff to its death.

Ramban offers an astonishing explanation for the s’eir sent to Azazel, explaining that it is meant as a means of pacifying the Satan, as it were, so as to give him his due. Perhaps some day I will find some means of understanding this comment which seems to contradict the very fundamentals of our beliefs.

Rav Hirsh suggests that the s’eirim represent the choices that life offers; kirvat Elokim as represented by the mizbeach, or void and depravity as represented by the s’eir sent to Azazel. He points out that this must always be seen as being a choice rather than destiny and offers interesting support from a halachah. If the goat chosen for Azazel died, or became a ba’al mum, before the ceremony, another goat was brought out and the selection process through the goralot was repeated. That is, the new goat did not become the s’eir l’Azazel by default. That role had to be a result of clear choice as represented by the goralot.

The selections by the kohen then are to be understood as representing the ultimate choice that life offers us: a life dedicated to Hashem or a life that is lacking meaning - l'Azazel. There is no middle road. Abandon G-dliness and you end up in a desert where your missteps will ultimately lead to your destruction. Cleave to Him and you will enjoy the opportunity of kirvas Elokim as symbolized by the goat sacrificed on the mizbaech.

That said, however, one is perplexed by the means used for this important life choice. Why a random lottery? Is the fact that one s'eir will end up as a sacrifice to G-d and one will die purely a matter of the luck of the draw? And if this is so, might one not mistakenly conclude that many of the choices we think we make are really meaningless and no more than happenstance? Would it not be more symbolically appropriate if the kohen would actually decide that one goat would be offered while the other would be sent off to die in the desert?

S'forno
offers an interesting insight that clarifies the issue. Goralot are to be seen as a manifestation of a Divine decision. In his words: "for goralot, especially when performed by one of His chasidim [i.e., the kohen gadol], is equivalent to asking G-d to make the choice." By using the goralot as a means of deciding which s'eir should be brought as a sacrifice and which sent to Azazel, the kohen was acknowledging man's frustration in trying to see into the future. Man might plan and prepare only to find that it was all for naught - l'azazel. On the other hand, man might seem lacking and empty, a candidate for the cliff, but his worthlessness might be no more than a manifestation of our inability to see real truth or value. Faced with that dilemma, on the Holiest day of the year, the kohen abandoned his pretentions and admitted that such questions are better left for G-d to answer.

This is a humbling notion to those of us - educators and parents - faced with choices about how we should deal with our children's future. How much do we preplan for them and how much do we leave up to random choice? How many of them are destined for azazel rather than the mizbeach? Don't make the choice alone, don't believe for a moment that it is no more than random luck. Look to Hashem that He might help you as you make your choices. In our era, when we no longer have the goralot and the s’eirim, let our prayers be focused toward asking for siyatta d’shmaya that our life choices be guided by His Hand.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Ki ein bayit asher ein sham meit

Last week, I received an e-mail concerning an incident that had taken place in Monticello, N.Y. on the previous motzaei Shabbat. The writer was one of the community activists who intervened in what he described as a base scene of debauchery that included young women and men from across the spectrum of observant Jewry. To his credit, he ascribed no blame for the incident. Many of the bloggers, however, were quite willing to serve as both judge and jury and let their learned comments loose. Their tone suggests that they understand their subject despite their lack of expertise in dealing with teenagers. "I was a teenager, I have sired teenagers, therefore I can analyze the problems of teenagers." The parallel would be: “I have a headache, I've given others headaches, therefore I am qualified to be a neurosurgeon.”

This week I received another e-mail from the same source announcing that the problem had been solved. He and a group of askanim had come to the site early, before the parties began. They made arrangements before Shabbat that the local pool hall would be for boys and the local bowling lanes for girls. They put patrols in place to guarantee separation and voila, the situation was and is under control.

I have the greatest respect for the person behind the e-mails; he works tirelessly, is very well meaning and has a great deal of real life experience. But like many practitioners, he focuses on symptoms rather than dealing with the problem itself. This is not a criticism; his role is to deal with problems once they manifest themselves. However, my experience has been that the problem we are facing as a growing avalanche of "kids at risk" uses the Catskills as their latest venue, is a fault of the type of schools and families that we have created.

As a high school level mechanech for some thirty years, I firmly believe that no-one has complete expertise in understanding teenage behavior; it remains the world's most inexact science. The consolation in dealing with adolescence is that it usually lasts for six years and then miraculously cures itself. That said, I do have a sense that even without statistical data to support my theory, many readers will agree that the analysis I offer makes sense and deserves to be further explored. A caveat: I begin this diatribe by pointing out that I do not yet have a concrete plan for implementing what I feel is the real resolution to the “kids at risk” phenomenon. I therefore open it up to you and would greatly appreciate your direct feedback.

To begin, I propose that the identification of students as being “kids at risk” be expanded rather than limited to those who exhibit high risk behavior vis-a-vis alcohol, tobacco or substance abuse. The adolescents throwing rocks in Ramat Beit Shemesh are as much a part of this problem as are the kids in Monticello. Both exhibit “conduct unbecoming a Jew” and both are “off the derech” even if one is considered a greater indication of departure from halachic norms than the other.

Additionally, I would like to remove from the equation, for the meantime, those adolescents who are clearly “at risk” because of sociological or psychological factors. Physical and sexual abuse, ADD, ADHD or diagnosable learning difficulties need treatment in and of themselves, and while they are clearly behavioral modifiers, they are often treatable through medication, therapy or various compensations and modifications.

I direct my comments to those adolescents who come from what seem to be stable, loving homes, who have been mainstreamed educationally and who nevertheless just don’t fit in. There are those who blame their departure from the derech to exposure to the internet and to the electronic and print media, blasting them as an evil the extent of which has never raised its head against the innocent youth of our people.

Frankly, I don’t think that the internet, as addictive as it can be [ask any serious blogger’s wife], is the cause of people going off the derech. Rather, once the person has begun to slide down the slippery slope out of Judaism, the internet may function as an outlet for various frustrations or as a means of discovering information that he had heretofore been consciously avoiding. Drugs and alcohol can be viewed in the same vein: kids experiment because there is a void they are trying to fill. If that void did not exist, or if there was something as fulfilling that could fill the void, they would avoid the temptation because they are aware of where it can lead.

In my relationships with adolescents through the years, and in talking to colleagues in the field, I have a sense that the overwhelming majority of kids at risk would like nothing more than to remain within the system. The fact that they experiment, or engage in illicit behavior, is no indication that they have chosen to abandon the derech. I, for example, would not be surprised at all if the kids who rented bungalows in Monticello for a weekend of partying [which I am sure included promiscuous behavior and a great deal of chilul Shabbos] nevertheless made kiddush Friday night and made sure that the food was glatt!

Ki ein bayit asher ein sham meit. There is no home in which one will not find someone who is dead spiritually. Intellectually, our schools have been a phenomenal success. In the post-war period we have created a true dor deah. Our kids collectively learn more Mishnayot, more dapei gemara, more rishonim and achronim than previous generations. It is true that previous generations learned more deeply on an individual level - we would be hard-pressed to match the level of Slobodka and Volozhin - but that is because a decision was made in the wake of the Second World War to expand the yeshivot quantitatively at the expense of their quality. Spiritually, our yeshivot have become morgues. Little or no time is spent on real mussar; a yeshiva that has a short seder where talmidim who barely understand Hebrew rode-read Sha’arei Teshuvah or Mesilat Yesharim is paying lip service to the idea of mussar. Machashavah is a subject that is almost never discussed on the high school level.

Instead of challenging teens within the yeshivot to discuss their feelings about their personal role in the world and to examine their Jewish personna, the mashgiach, mashpia, rosh yeshiva engages in a monologue focusing on how awful general society is and how superior we are as Jews. This often confounds the young man - or woman - who hears that he or she is a member of an am hanivchar but doesn’t really know what that means. If he is superior, then he can act like a behemah and burn garbage cans to protest infringements on his royal territory. He can shove a woman off the bus if she invades his turf, because he ranks higher in the pyramid of life. He or she also looks around at his surroundings and wonders in which way is he or she really superior? In ethical behavior, in treatment of his environment?

What transpires in the beit midrash when the rosh yeshiva or mashgiach tells the student that tefillah raises him to a level of kirvat Elokim that is the greatest source of joy that man can experience? A percentage of kids will accept this without even needing further elaboration, for they are endowed with a natural sense of spirituality that can recognize the satisfaction of a relationship with G-d. Another percentage wait for the speaker to demonstrate how this is possible and when he fails to do so, are frustrated but not yet ready to throw it all away. And then there is a percentage who say that the words of the teacher are empty phrases and when they recall them, deem them to be completely out of touch.

I have heard speakers talk to high school students in Israel and the U.S. Those who made the greatest impact were the ones who understood that they were not standing in the beit midrash in Baranovich or Kaminetz. Those who had the least impact were those who were either back in Eastern Europe or who walked into the beit midrash poorly prepared to face reality. Their cynical attempts to denigrate popular culture usually backfired. The speaker thought he had won the battle because he had drawn laughter. Little did he realize that he had caused great damage because his remarks were so obviously based on a limited information bank. I would suggest, for example, that these type of rabbis avoid historical issues unless they are truly well versed in the fields they mention. There’s almost nothing more shattering to a teenager than to hear someone who they are told to respect reveal his foolishness or ignorance.

... to be continued ...


Thursday, August 2, 2007

Halachah v'ein morim kein

I write this piece with a sense of b'dchilu u'rchimu - let's translate this as trepidation. When I was younger I was less hesitant about being a semi-m'gadef - ascribing all types of vile characterizations to gedolei yisroel who seemed to somehow not get what was perfectly clear to my post-adolescent mind. With my vast storehouse of Torah erudition and my unbelievably astute analysis of the world around me, I was somehow qualified to make Torah pronouncements on issues that did not fit strictly into the area of halachah. I was willing to admit the supremacy of gedolim in some areas, but to expand this admission to the grey area that is called "da'as Torah" - no way, Jose!

As I matured, a still ongoing process, I realized how little I really know and more so, how much they do know. I am no less perplexed by some of their pronouncements, no less bothered by their seeming lack of awareness of the real world, and no less astounded oftimes by public pronouncemnts of policy. Nevertheless, I am reluctant to simply discredit them or ignore their words. Instead of condemning, instead of being cycnical, I do my best to understand. I also realize that a challenge even to contemporary roshei yeshiva is foolish. No matter how many steroids I take, I'm not going to challenge Barry Bonds to a homerun derby!

A case in point: at the last Torah Umesorah Convention, Rav Aron Leib Steinman was asked for a halachic opinion regarding the suitability of a rebbi playing sports with his talmidim. To Reb Aron Leib, coming from Bnei Brak and living in an environment where such behavior would be an enormous pritztat hagedorim, the answer was obvious - lo with an aleph! Did Rav Shmuel Kaminetzky or Rav Aharon Shechter or any of the American roshei yeshivot who were present qualify this statement as being unacceptable in most parts of America? No! Does that mean that they disagreed with the p'sak? No! Do they enforce it or even mention it? No! Does that make them hypocrites? No! Confused? Yes!

Years ago, when I graduated high school, Rav Aron Kotler zt"l consistently and constantly reiterated his position that it was absolutely forbidden for a yeshiva student to attend college. While never - at least in my memory - actually using the term assur when talking about college study, Reb Yaakov zt"l and Rav Schorr zt"l never publicly contradicted Reb Aharon. The same can be said about Rav Hutner and Reb Moshe. Despite the unequivocal p'sak of the unchallenged gadol hador, the clear majority of talmidim of Torah Vodaath, Chaim Berlin and MTJ attended college. [The educational background of the daughters of some of these roshei yeshivot is well known and will not be discussed. It might seem to be supportive but it is not germane to the argument I make.] Is there an inconsistency involved? Yes! Does this silent acquiesence seem to be hypocritical or cowardly? Perhaps! Puzzled? Clearly!

When Zimri was cavorting with Kozbi in the tent, Pinchas came running to the beit din of Moshe. "Gevalt," he exclaimed, "do you know what's going on over in Shimonland?" "Sure do." Moshe replied. "Can't we stop it?" "Yes." "How?" "The halachah is kanaim pog'im bo."

Pinchas grabbed a lance, went to the tent and came out with a skewer full of prince and princess. Why didn't Moshe do it himself? Some of the mefarshim explain that he would have been accused of hypocricy given that he too was married to a non-Jewess. Others contend that it would have been the end of his leadership and effectiveness as a teacher; a kanai can not lead. [see Malbim who notes that when Eliyhau performs an act of kanaut vs. the prophets of Ba'al, he is told ee afshi becha - I (Hashem) no longer want you.] Pinchas' halachic dilemma falls into the area of halachah v'ein morim kein - it is the appropriate ruling but we do not teach it. Why not? Because it will turn out to be counter-productive. Were we to live in a world where kanuat isunderstood not to be fanaticism for the sake of fanaticism, but rather a zealousness motivated by love of G-d, then killing Zimri would have been mainstream halachah and Moshe would have done it himself. But in a world where people can be accused of having ulterior motives, then kanaut is halachically permissible but impractical to mandate.

I would take this one step further. When the community is not at the point where it can accept a specific ruling - even when that ruling is made by gedolei olam who make it clear that they are issuing a p'sak halachah - then the reluctance of the tzibbur to accept that ruling can abrogate it. This is the basis of the concept of gezerah she'ain hatzibbur yachol la'amod bo. The gezerah was made, but it is almost automatically rescinded when it becomes unenforceable. [I admit that I am not enough of a baki to analyze the means through which this process transpires. Anyone who can do so, aderaba - your doing so will truly be l'toelet.] Does this mean that there was no point in making the gezerah given that it would never be enforced? Should the issuing authority first have taken a poll to see whether or not people would accept it? No, for there is educational value in evaluating the reasons that led to the issuance of the gezerah. When Rav Aron Leib issued his p'sak about playing ball, it was clearly in the parameters of gezerah she'ain hatzibbur yachol la'amod bo. As such, the roshei yeshiva sitting on the dais had no reason to disclaim it. On the contrary, their silence should be taken as an indication that there are certain boundaries that should be established that the tzibbur can accept.

I think that Reb Yaakov and Rav Schorr both understood that Reb Aharon's psak about college was simply not going to work in Torah Vodaath. It would have meant the end of the yeshiva at that period. At the same time, they did not come out against it because its issuance was a strong message about the primacy of Torah education. Given the timeframe and the mindset of the talmidim, it was halachah v'ein morim kein.

I believe that the same is true of the tumult regarding the concert in Yerushalayim. The rabbanim who signed the kol koreh know that the majority of the tzibbur will not follow this p'sak. It has been made numerous times in the past and will undoubtedly be made numerous times in the future. Nonetheless, they issued the p'sak understanding that while it might itself be disregarded, the organizers of this concert and ones in the future as well, will be careful - to the extent possible - to prevent the venues from degenerating into a spectacle.

It behooves us to be careful when we criticize gedolim as Neanderthal men. Anyone who has had contact with any of those who signed the kol koreh can tell you that they've got more street smarts than you think. Yes, it is true that the handlers and mashakim often distort the true intent of gedolei yisroel. But from personal experience I can testify that many gedolim carefully choose when they allow it to appear that the wool is being pulled over their eyes.
PENN yifteh l'vavchem

A disclaimer: The contents of this missive are not directed toward any particular student but, rather, at a phenomenon that I feel dutybound to address. The opinion voiced is my own; students will find that there are those whose opinion they hold no less highly, whose views can be source supported even though their conclusion may be diametrically opposed to everything I wriet. That said, I do hope that students - and more importantly, their parents - will read these words with an open mind and hopefully, feel the need to respond, comment or even disagree.
Rambam, in a letter to the Sages of Lunel in which he describes his day-to-day activities, describes his anguish at having precious few hours availble for Torah study due to the demands made upon him as a physician to the royal court in Egypt. I cannot imagine that there was a less prestigious medical position open in thirteenth century Fostat/Cairo, or that there was a more effective means of interceding on behalf of his fellow Jews than that afforded him by his office. Nevertheless, instead of finding fulfillment in his work, Rambam describes it as rakchut vetabachut - literally, pharmacology and cooking - and makes no mention of the influence he had. Rambam's works were priceless contributions to the society around him; however, in terms of his personal fulfillment, they were secondary, for they detracted from the time that he could have spent deepening his understanding of Torah. Remember, we are referring to the preeminent Torah scholar of his time, the man whose burial place is adorned with the accolade mi-Moshe ad Moshe lo kam k'Moshe, a giant whose level of knowledge is beyond comprehension. Yet this very same Rambam informs his correspondents that he would have gone farther had he not been distracted by the time he had to devote to his medical duties.
Let's switch into the world of conjecture for a moment. Rambam could have supported himself as a rabbi or teacher. For reasons we do not know, he chose not to, as was the case with many of his contemporaries. Even rishonim who held clerical offices - e.g., Ramban or Abarbanel, often supported themselves through outside occupations. Perhaps they were the forerunners of the Torah im Derech Eretz school and held that only through direct involvement in general society can one demonstrate the eternity of Torah and create the community of Yeshurun that is man's mission. Perhaps they were proponents of Torah U'Madah and believed that there is a separate world of knowledge that G-d wants you to be familiar with - a world that cannot be mastered without serious study. Whatever the case, the rishonim clearly held - as expressed by Rambam - that this involvement came at heavy personal cost. [For those interested, read Abarbanel's Introduction to Sefer Melachim where he discusses the study of philosophy and its link to the Inquisition.] Continuing with Rambam; let's imagine he were alive today. Which undergraduate school would he choose? Argument could be made that as a physician he owed it to his patients to receive the finest training possible and might therefore seek admission to the Ivies [assuming that these schools are indeed the finest available]. But, being aware of the anguish that he expressed in having so few hours available for personal Torah study, do you think he would have applied for early decision at Brandeis, Columbia or Princeton so as to be able to enjoy the "college experience." Do you think that Rambam, or any of the proponents of Torah im Derech Eretz or Torah U'Mada [and there is a vast difference between the two], would have ever suggested that the pre-eminence of Torah with those educational formulas can be questioned.
There is something fundamentally wrong with being more familiar with Shakespeare that with the Sheiltot, or in maintaining that the contribution of Johan Sebastian [their Bach] can be compared with R. Yoel Sirkes' [ours].
I find it difficult to understand how anyone with a serious commitment to and understanding of Judaism and Torah can somehow rationalize that at the age of eighteen or nineteen, they [or their son or daughter] can survive without a formal, structured program of Torah study. Unless ours is an unparalleled generation of geniuses [who successfully hide our erudition behind an impenetrable cloak of modesty], I would venture to say that all concerned would agree that basic familiarity [in the best of cases] with the first ten or so blatt in five or six masechtot is simply insufficient. Judaism expects scholarship from everyone according to their level and every Jew is required to continue his learning whenever feasible. When he has gained the wherewithall - both in skills and in motivation - to continue those studies and insure that they remain - qualitatively if not quantitatively - as important to him as his pursuit of other fields, then he can begin his immersion in secular learning.This is not to suggest that there is no validity in a non-utilitarian approach to the accrual of general knowledge. But one must bear in mind that the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rav Soloveitchik and Rav Hutner - the three gedolim usually cited by those who seek to rationalize the full immersion into academia - only began their academic careers after thye had been steeped in Torah in their homes and in the yeshivot they attended. I doubt that any of them would feel that a 12th grade Yeshiva education in the US can in anyway be considered equivalent to learning with Reb Chaim, the previous rebbe or the Alter of Slobodka and Rav Kook!
What is the motivating factor among students and their parents who choose to attend the Ivies or other such institutions rather than availing themselves of the services of a university that has a structured program of learning [YU or TOURO] or by attending yeshivot offering joint programs [NIRC]? I would conclude that they are blinded by the prestige associated with acceptance by these hallowed halls of secular learning. For some reason, acceptance at KBY or GUSH just can't match the adrenalin flow of receiving the anticipated acceptance letter from Harvard or Yale! Remember, we're referring to those who pay lip service to the primacy of Torah, yet they are still driven to apply [and devoutly pray for accepance] to top tier colleges. Something has turned their hearts away from what they know is the proper path. What is this insiduous power that can befuddle the mind and prevent it from making the appropriate decision?
PENN YIFTEH LEVAVCHEM - Penn has seduced their hearts. There is so little prestige associated with being accepted by YU, no bragging about registering at Touro and no admiration for those attending NIRC/Hopkins. Let's be honest - the decision isn't based on the fact that Wharton students earn x more dollars than graduates of SYMS. It's about kavod and parental pride. What would a parent use for one upmanship at the kiddush at Young Israel?! In too many segments of our community a talmid chacham is but another synonym for a "good for nothing." To be sure there are parents who will loudly brag about their son who graduated from Columbia and is taking a year or two off to study for semichah at YU. However, remove the academic title of semichah and the parent will suddenly become reticent about discussing the child's whereabouts! Moreover, we all well know what would happen to that same young man if he informed his parents that he had chosen not to continue on in medicine, law, business et. al. but instead had decided to become a rabbi or teacher so that he would have more opportunity to learn and would be able to live in a society more supportive of that desire. You'd have Slaughter on Amsterdam Ave. The only equivalent shock level that I can imagine is having an MO kid tell his parents he's moving to Israel - but that will be dealt with in a subsequent post.
It would be interesting to see a study on the median income of graduates of the Ivies, YU and NIRC ten years after they enter the workforce. I suspect, however, that most students and their parents would ignore the data. PENN YIFTEH LEVAVCHEM - when one's heart has been seduced, facts become meaningless.