In Defense of Chametz

 The Book of Vayikra opens with the requirements and restrictions associated with the various korbanot. When it comes to flour offerings, the Torah is adamant that the “bread offerings” may not be chametz (2:11): כׇּל־הַמִּנְחָה אֲשֶׁר תַּקְרִיבוּ לַיהֹוָה לֹא תֵעָשֶׂה חָמֵץ- No grain offering that you offer to Hashem shall be made with leaven”. The Talmud Brachot Rabbi Alexandri equates chametz with the yetzer harah, our evil inclination. The Baalei Mussar took note of the physical characteristics of chametz and related them to negative character traits. For example, dough will only begin to rise after a period of time. This corresponds to the trait of sloth and laziness. Similarly, with the help of yeast, dough rises more robustly; a phenomenon that the Mussar Movement related to the attribute of ego and haughtiness. Anthropologists and food historians add to the chametz-bashing, albeit indirectly. The origins of yeast, used for both bread and beer, can be traced to ancient Egypt before Yaakov and his family arrived. Chametz can now be representative of Egyptian culture, and our avoidance of leaven can be seen as a rejection of Egyptian culture as we celebrate our redemption from Egypt. But if chametz is so bad, then why do we eat it all year? Throughout history bread has been a staple of nourishment. In addition, it is elevated as an offering to Hashem. The Sefirat HaOmer count culminates with Shavuot, at which time two beautiful loaves of fresh fluffy bread were offered in the Beit Hamikdash. If chametz is so wrong, how can it be the central offering on the holiday of Shavuot? The answer is that Chametz is not really evil. During the course of our lives bread, as a food and as a symbol, is appropriate and necessary. It is only on the Mizbeiach and on Pesach that chametz is inappropriate. Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Berlin, the Netziv, writes, “Chametz is a human invention used to modify through ingenuity the world that God created.” An encounter with Hashem at the Mizbeaich is not the setting to demonstrate human ingenuity. Rather, bringing a Korban is a time to reflect on Hashem as Creator and the Cause of all human ingenuity. Chametz represents our ability to use our intellect to control our surroundings. While this is an appropriate and necessary perspective on life, it does not belong on the altar as we submit before Hashem through the offering of a flour korban. Chametz is also inappropriate on Pesach because during the Exodus we were passive, as Hashem tells Moshe at the Splitting of the Sea: “Hashem will fight for you, and you shall remain silent.” Our celebration of Pesach focuses on what Hashem did for us. Matzah, the natural product of bread and water without any human ingenuity, is aptly suited to be that national symbol. It turns out that eating chametz the rest of the year is not a concession to our weak and sinful natures. As we will say in less than two weeks at the Seder in Mah Nishtana “Shebechol Haleilot Anu Ochlim Chametz U’Matzah”. During the rest of the year I am a chametz eater, and I am proud to say that I like it. Chametz represents the crucial mandate that we have to be creative and to improve the world. Chametz reminds us that we must appreciate that goals can only be accomplished through human ingenuity and hard work. On Pesach however we continue and state, “Halayla Hazeh Kulo Matzah”. Chametz conveys crucial lessons, but on Pesach we need to focus on different lessons. On Pesach we remember that our creativity and our accomplishments must ultimately be attributed to Hashem. It is easy to extol the virtues of matzah by critiquing chametz and associating it with negative symbolism. But by understanding how chametz plays a vital role in our lives the rest of the year, we can better appreciate the unique and exalted lessons of matzah on the Mizbeaich and on Pesach.  

Connect – Grow – Together on Shabbat

 Moshe must have gathered Bnai Yisrael numerous times throughout their journey in the Midbar in order to teach them Torah and Mitzvot. Yet it is only at the beginning of Parshat Vayakhel that the Torah specifically tells us וַיַּקְהֵ֣ל משֶׁ֗ה אֶת־כָּל־עֲדַ֛ת בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל “Moshe gathered the entire congregation of Israelites”. While Parshat Vayakhel primarily discusses the Mishkan construction project, the Parsha begins with a couple of pesukim about Shabbat: “Six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have sanctity, a day of complete rest to the Lord….” Rashi suggests that this Shabbat reference serves to set parameters for the construction of the Mishkan. Moshe here is informing the Jews that as important as building the Tabernacle may be, nevertheless its construction may not be performed on Shabbat. Others suggest a common theme that connects Shabbat and the Mishkan. Just as the Mishkan is a holy and special space, so too Shabbat is meant to be a holy and special time. Yalkut Shimoni (408) explains the connection between gathering the people and teaching about Shabbat: “The Holy One, blessed be He said: ‘Make for yourself great assemblies, and expound before them publicly the laws of Shabbat, so that future generations will learn from you to gather assemblies each and every Shabbat, and to enter the study halls to teach and instruct Israel in words of Torah; what is forbidden and what is permitted, so that My great Name will be praised among My children.” The Midrash understands this Vayakhel as the origin of the practice of public Torah teaching and communal gatherings on Shabbat. While some people may not not fans of the Shabbat morning Drasha / sermon and subscribe to the mantra that “there’s no sermon like no sermon”, this Midrash teaches us that public Torah study, especially in large audiences, is integral to the weekly Shabbat experience. It is the spirit of this Midrash that our shul offers many learning opportunities on Shabbat. From weekly and monthly shiurim, to Guest Speakers and Scholars in Residence, our most robust and varied Torah offerings are on Shabbat. I encourage you to take advantage of the Torah learning opportunities offered at shul, all week long and especially on Shabbat. At the very least I urge you to pay attention and take to heart the weekly Dvar Torah that is presented at each Shabbat morning minyan by one of the YIH Rabbis. When you listen to the Shabbat morning Dvar Torah (and discuss it at your Shabbat table) you are engaged in an endeavor of Biblical proportions: you are recreating the experience described at the beginning of Parshat Vayakhel. I will conclude with a timely Dvar Halacha related to Shabbat. Recently the City of Hollywood completed construction of a splash pad at the Mara Berman Giulianti Park. It is a wonderful addition to our Emerald Hills neighborhood, and I am sure that children will enjoy using it especially as the weather gets warmer. Although there is now a splash pad at “The Shabbos Park”, using the splash pad is not an appropriate Shabbos activity. In addition to the many actual and potential halachic problems involved, water activities are not consistent with the uniqueness, spirit and sanctity of Shabbat. Some parents have raised concerns about the presence of the splash pad at the Shabbos Park, but I believe that it can be viewed as a true gift - 7 days a week. Six days a week our children and grandchildren have another option for play and enjoyment at the park. And on Shabbat, by enjoying the park in other ways but avoiding the splash pad we will have the opportunity to teach our children a valuable lesson. Through our words and through our actions (what we do and what we avoid doing) we can educate and model to our children how special, unique and holy Shabbat is to us.

Bad Masks and Good Masks

 Parshat Ki Tisa contains the episode of the golden calf. The Torah refers to the golden calf as (32:4) “egel masecha”. The Stone Chumash translates this as “a molten calf”.  “Masecha” could be a type of metal, and if so, the “Egel Masecha” would be a metal calf, or more precisely, a calf that had undergone the process of melting, since it was made out of many pieces of gold that needed to be fused together. Masecha” can also be interpreted as deriving from the word “Masach”, an object used to conceal other objects. This is also the meaning of the “Masecha” we wear on Purim, which covers the face. This is not the only appearance of a mask in our Parsha. After Moshe prays and Hashem forgives the Jews for the golden calf, Moshe is called upon to receive the second set of tablets. When Moshe comes down from the mountain, the Torah describes how Moshe’s face glowed as a result of his exposure to an intense Divine manifestation. Moshe resorted to wearing a “masveh” (34:33) which is a veil or mask. In two episodes in Ki Tisa Moshe ascends Mt Sinai to receive luchot from Hashem. In both cases, this act causes the need for a mask of some sort. The mask of the golden calf is one of the greatest mistakes in Jewish history. The mask that Moshe wears after descending with the second luchot is viewed as having a positive purpose. How do we understand the vast difference between these two masks? Our world is full of masks, hiding the perception of God’s role in our lives. The Hebrew word for world “Olam” is related to the word “hidden” (“he’elem”) because nature is a force that masks God’s handiwork. Political history is another mask that obstructs our appreciation for God’s role in unfolding events. We will celebrate Purim in less than a month. The story of Purim (like the story of the 6 Day War) can be read as a fascinating tale of political (or military) intrigue. But really those events are masking the Prime Cause of it all- Hashem. Idolatry can also be understood as a mask. It hides inconvenient truths, such as reward and punishment, and the need to submit to a Higher Being. This type of mask leads to destruction. Sometimes a mask hides the truth. But sometimes a mask is needed to allow the truth to come forth. Rav Saadiah Gaon explains that the masveh was intended to make disputants less afraid to approach Moshe for assistance. Others suggest that Moshe wore the masveh as a sign of modesty. In effect the masveh allowed Moshe to express his true self, and not hide in any way. There’s a difference of opinion as to when exactly Moshe wore the masveh. Everyone agrees that Moshe did not wear it when he was communicating with Hashem. Everyone also agrees that he did wear the masveh when he was in the Israelite camp not engaged in teaching Torah. There’s a difference of opinion whether Moshe wore the mask when he was teaching Torah to the people. It would seem based on the pesukim at the end of Ki Tisa that Moshe would not wear the masveh while he was engaged in teaching Torah. Rabbi Akiva Eiger, however, suggests that Moshe in fact wore the masveh even while teaching Torah to the people. Rabbi Eiger explains that Moshe wore the masveh to hide his humility. As teacher and prophet, Moshe had to “hide” this innate quality of humility, for the benefit of his role as leader. When a mask is used to obscure God’s role in our lives, then it’s a bad mask. When a mask is used to bring out our true selves or to hide some of our innate qualities that interfere with maximizing our potential, then it’s a good mask. As we put away our Purim costumes, and read Parshat Ki Tisa, let’s be on guard to avoid the bad masks and find ways to utilize the good masks.