Learning from the Mistake of Rabbi Akiva’s Students

 One of the reasons why the Sefira period is experienced with some mourning practices is based on the tradition that it was during this time of year that 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva died in a plague. The Talmud states that Rabbi Akiva’s students died as punishment for “not showing respect towards one another.”

This Talmudic explanation has always perplexed me. One of Rabbi Akiva’s famous teachings is his comment on the verse “Va’Ahavta L’Reiacha Kamocha” “Love your neighbor as yourself” on which he stated that this verse is a most fundamental concept in the Torah.

If these 24,000 students were truly disciples of R’ Akiva, then how could they have not known their Rebbe’s teaching on loving a fellow Jew? I’d like to suggest two possible ways to understand the mistake of Rabbi Akiva’s students.

First, it could be that there was disconnect between what the students learned and how they acted. They might have knew Rabbi Akiva’s lesson by-heart but they did not take this lesson to heart.

Learning Torah and Living a Torah-oriented lifestyle should not only make us holier people, but it should also make us better, nicer, more compassionate and considerate people. If this is not happening, then we are learning something wrong.    

Second, it could be that the students took their teacher’s lesson a bit too literally. The verse in the Torah is “Ve’Ahavta Lereiacha Kamocha” which means “love your neighbor as yourself”. There is much discussion as to what the word “Kamocha” means in this context. Perhaps the students of Rabbi Akiva took it to mean that you must get along with people that are Kamocha: ie with whom you are similar; ie with people whom you share values and interests. But the students did not feel a need to show love and respect to those whom they did not consider to be like-minded.

It’s easy to like people that are similar to us; people that share our worldview, our values, and our priorities. But how do we treat people with whom we disagree? How do we treat those with whom we normally agree but strongly disagree on a particular topic that is very important to us? This is when “Love your neighbor” becomes harder and much more important.  

During this Sefira period, let us contemplate the strengths and opportunities that emerge from living in a diverse synagogue community like ours.  On any given Shabbat you are more likely than not to sit next to, share a row, or wish Shabbat Shalom to someone with whom you disagree with on one or many issues that you feel passionate about. How does that make you feel? What does that that say about our community?

Let us appreciate the importance of loving even those who are different that we are, and even those with whom we disagree. It is through interactions with those whom we are dissimilar that we extend ourselves and in the process grow from that interaction.

 

 

Hallmarks of a Hero

 On the Seventh Day of Pesach, we note the heroes that emerged on that very first Shevii shel Pesach at the shores of the Red Sea. Though he is not mentioned explicitly in the text, the most famous hero of today’s story is Nachshon ben Aminadav.

            The Heroic Imagination Project is a non-profit organization that focuses on teaching people to become heroes, or as they put it “To teach individuals the skills and awareness needed to make effective decisions in challenging situations.” The Project identifies 4 key elements of heroism:

It's voluntary

It is done in the service of people or communities in need

It involves some type of risk, either physical, social, or in terms of quality of life

It is done without the need for recompense or material gain

The actions of Nachshon at the sea encompass all of these elements.

            Jewish tradition offers two other traits of a hero. Pirkei Avot teaches: A Hero is one that conquers his/her natural inclination. Instead of heroic action always being found in grandiose initiative, Jewish heroics can be found in holding ourselves back. As Rav Soloveitchik wrote in an essay (Catharsis pg 42):

“The heroic person, according to our view, does not succumb to frenzy or excitement. Biblical heroism is not ecstatic but rather contemplative; not loud but hushed; not dramatic or spectacular but mute.”

            Avot D’Rav Natan (23:1) offers a second characteristic of being a Jewish hero: A hero is one that works to change enemies into friends. Conventional wisdom sees heroes as acting independently on behalf of others. The Jewish view is that a hero is one that broadens the boundaries of community. By turning enemies into friends heroes value inclusivity, thereby increasing the size and quality of the community.

There are two characters that we read about on Seventh Day of Pesach that act heroically.

We read how Moshe takes the bones of Joseph out of Egypt. The Midrash highlights the fact that while the rest of Bnai Yisrael were busy looting Egypt, Moshe was busy fulfilling the nation’s promise to their ancestor Yosef. Moshe’s heroism is expressed not only through what he was doing, but also through what he restrained himself from getting involved in. I can imagine that no one would have gained as much pleasure from looting Egypt as Moshe; the man who was doubted by his nation, by Pharaoh, by the Egyptians and even by himself. Yet he holds himself back in fulfillment of the Jewish definition of a hero- one who is kovesh et yitzro.

           Second, we read how Miriam led the Jewish women in song: Shiru LaHashem Gi Ga’o Ga’ah, Sus V’rachvo Rama Vayam. It may seem that Miriam is leading the women in a reiteration of the first line of Shirat Hayam. However, the first line is in the singular, while Miriam’s song is in the plural. Perhaps the Torah is noting the heroic nature of Miriam’s song, whereby she includes all of the women. Miriam encourages them all to sing. She is demonstrating a type of heroism that not only seeks to make enemies into friends, but strives to ensure that everyone is maximizing their potential in the community.

            Each of us can and must be a hero. Sometimes we may have a Nachshon moment, when we are called upon to do something extraordinary or unpopular. If/ when that happens let us learn from Moshe and Miriam about Jewish heroism and be inspired to do the right thing.

 

Slaves? Maybe. “House of Bondage”? Never Again

How can it be that we say in the Hagadah “Now we are slaves” if we call Pesach the “Festival of our freedom”? Rav Moshe Avigdor Amiel explained that the answer is found the first line of the Ten Commandments: “I am the Lord your God who took you out from the Land of Egypt from the house of bondage”.

There is a difference between “Avadim” slaves, and “beit avadim”, house of bondage. There is bondage of the body and bondage of the spirit. When a slave is unable to own property and it all belongs to the master- that is slavery of the body. A slave has no autonomous will; he can only reflect the will of his master. The master’s position of authority not only permeates all of the slave’s actions, but even his thoughts as well. The slave’s main thought is how he can find favor in the eyes of his master; to gain the master’s approval. He has no independent identity. As a result of this mindset, the slave slowly shifts from fear of his master to love. (reflected in the verse at beginning of Mishpatim “Ahavti et Adoni”).

It is this mindset that the Torah calls “Beit Avadim”. The bondage of the psyche. A slavery that permeates one’s heart and soul, ideas and feelings.  This is the degree to which we were slaves in Egypt. Not just Avaadim, but trapped in “Beit Avadim”. After the Exodus and our receiving the Torah, we will never be trapped like that ever again to another human. We will develop similar patterns and feelings in our role as servants of Hashem.

The slavery to which we may still be subjected to is an external pressure, but no human can ever have a claim to our essence. Today a person may have a hold on our body or a hold on our possessions but no one has a hold on our soul.

God Himself told us at Mt. Sinai that He took us out of “beit avadim”. Although the entire Torah was given to us by God, there is a special status to that which we heard directly from Hashem Himself. What we heard from God is impossible for us to forget and impossible to be revoked, without exception.

It is therefore embedded in our DNA for Jews to love freedom, and despise any type of slavery or oppression in any form. History shows that Jews are always in the forefront of the great freedom movements – throughout the world and at all times. It is “established in our blood and our souls from the day we stood at Mount Sinai”- to love and fight for freedom- for all.

The Talmud teaches (Kidushin 22b) that it was at Sinai that God said “You are only servants to Me, and slave to no other human.” Rav Amiel explained that every Jew heard this, and even those Jews who heard nothing else and who keep nothing else internalized this mandate of freedom from Hashem They live this value in every facet of their lives. 

This is a permanent characteristics of Klal Yisrael: love of a principled freedom. As the Torah tells us, once we have experienced freedom - there’s no going back!

 

Bad News? Good News

 My friend and colleague Rabbi Ariel Rackovsky retold a story that has always fascinated me: In a narrow, winding alley in the Old City of Yerushalaim, a remarkable encounter took place on Erev Pesach some 90 years ago. An older gentleman with thick-rimmed spectacles walked slowly yet purposefully, surrounded by a group of younger men. His name was Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook, the Chief Rabbi of the land of Israel and founder of the Merkaz HaRav Yeshiva. He was walking with his students on the way back from the Kotel, preparing themselves spiritually for the awesome Seder evening ahead. Coming in the other direction was an elderly man with a flowing white beard, dressed in a long, gold-striped caftan. He, too, was surrounded by an entourage. It was Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld, spiritual leader of Jerusalem’s Yishuv Hayashan, the older settlements within the walls of the Old City and the newer neighborhoods settled by the broader Hungarian community of Yerushalayim. Most of the inhabitants of these neighborhoods affiliated with the umbrella spiritual and administrative body created by Rav Sonnenfeld, known as the Eidah HaChareidis. Rav Sonnenfeld was known as “The man on the ramparts” for his staunch traditionalism and his uncompromising fight against the pernicious winds of secularism, and particularly of secular Zionism. From his community, there was often strong opposition to Rav Kook, himself unabashedly traditional in his religious world view, but whose mystical writings praised secular Zionists in their efforts to rebuild the Land of Israel.

To the Yishuv Hayashan and Rav Sonnenfeld’s students Rav Kook represented a heretical fifth column, and to Rav Kook’s students, those who objected to Rav Kook were wickedly disrespectful and hopelessly backwards. One can imagine that the tension was palpable. Rav Sonnenfeld turned to Rav Kook and said, “Iber a yohr, ihr vet zoyche zayn tzu geyen borfis in blut.” “In a year, you should merit to go barefeet in blood.” Rav Kook’s students were beyond livid, as this sounded like an unforgivable curse, yet the next thing they knew, Rav Kook had a smile on his face and said “Amen!” After they parted company, Rav Kook explained to his students that Rav Sonnenfeld had bestowed a Talmudic blessing upon him. The Talmud (Pesachim 65b) describes how, in Temple days, there were so many Paschal lambs offered that the Kohanim waded in animal blood. Rav Sonnenfeld was blessing Rav Kook- his ideological opponent, his dear friend and a Kohen that he would merit next year to take part in the service of the Korban Pesach in a rebuilt Beit Hamikdash.

Sometimes in life we hear something that sounds or appears negative, when in fact, upon closer examination, it is really something quite positive. We have an example of this in Parshat Metzora regarding the tzaraat that can afflict a house in the Land of Israel (14:34). While an affliction on one’s home seems to be a setback or a problem, Rashi quotes a Midrash that puts a completely different spin on the whole story. Noting that the pasuk uses the word “give” to describe the affliction, Rashi writes: “This is [good] news for them that lesions of tzara’at will come upon them, because the Amorites had hidden away treasures of gold inside the walls of their houses during the entire forty years that the Israelites were in the desert, and through the lesion, he will demolish the house and find them. [Vayikra Rabbah 17:6]. It is not always easy to see the positive in a situation or to hear the positive in what at first sounds like an insult or injury. But as we see from our Parsha and from Rav Kook it is possible and something that we should always be striving to do.

Lunar Lessons

 

In Parshat HaChodesh Maftir reading, the Torah instructs us to look towards and learn from the moon. The Torah states:

“Hashem said to Moshe and Aharon: “This month shall be for you the beginning of the months, it shall be for you the first of the months of the year.”

As the ten plagues culminate and the exodus is immanent, Bnai Yisrael are commanded to institute a uniquely Jewish calendar. The calendar begins with the month of Nissan, in commemoration of our freedom from Egypt.  It is the first Mitzvah given to the Jewish People. And this mitzvah is dependant on the moon. On the words “Hachodesh Hazeh” the Medrash writes that Hashem showed Moshe exactly what the moon looks like at the beginning of the month. Why does the moon occupy such a prominent role?

The Sefer Hachinuch describes the challenges that exist within this Mitzvah. First, a lunar month is 29 and a half days, and this means that some months will be assigned 29 days while others will have 30. A more challenging aspect of setting the Jewish calendar is the fact that it must exist within two systems. On the one hand, a month is defined by the amount of time it takes the moon to orbit the Earth once. On the other hand, Jewish holidays such as Pesach, Shavuot and Succot commemorate agricultural milestones. The Agricultural cycle is tied to the seasons, and seasons are dependant on the sun. The Sefer Hachinuch reminds us that a lunar year is 354 days while a solar year has 365 days. In order to keep holidays in their seasons, an extra month must sometimes be added. This is done in order to synchronize the solar and lunar years.

The Jewish calendar must live within two systems, lunar and solar. We often find ourselves living in two systems that sometimes seem to pull us in different directions: body and soul, work and family, personal growth and helping others, tradition and modernity. One lesson of the Jewish calendar is to find ways to live with tensions that cannot be resolved.

In Chasidic thought, the sun and the moon are characterized as the difference between the ideal and reality. The sun represents the ideal. It is the source of light, but it is distant and unapproachable. We cannot look directly at the sun without hurting our eyes. Similarly, the ideal should be viewed as a goal that must be strived for, yet never attained. The moon represents reality. The moon reflects light from the sun. The moon’s light resembles the sun’s rays; however the light is not as bright. We are comfortable with the moon; we can stare at it. Our reality is like the moon: it is a reflection of the ideal. Ideals are like the sun. We cannot tolerate to look at them. They do not reflect reality. The moon is real. We can look at the moon. The moon gets its light from the sun. Reality is inspired by our ideals. But the moon reflects them in a way that makes those ideals achievable and tolerable.

On this Rosh Chodesh Nisan let us learn the moon’s lessons: Be comfortable with the tensions in our life. Be realistic while being inspired by our ideals.