The Paradoxical Lessons In Counting Sefira

There are two ways to understand the Sefirat Haomer period. It can be viewed as a countdown to receiving the Torah on Shavuot. Or it can be viewed as a period of incremental growth- for the Jews as they left Egypt and for each of us as well. These two approaches can be used to understand the logic behind a number of Halachik arguments:

Is Sefirat Haomer today Torah-ordained or Rabbinic? If we are counting towards Receiving the Torah, then we count today as it has been done throughout history and can continue to be viewed as a Torah-obligation. However if Sefira is about personal/ national transformation, this was symbolized by the transition from Korban Haomer (barley) to Korban Shtei Halechem (bread on Shavuot). Since we no longer have Korbanot, our count is only a commemoration and would be considered Rabbinically obligated.

1)      Is Sefira one mitzvah or 49 separate mitzvot? If the Count is about reaching Matan Torah, then there is only one destination. Therefore one would view the entire period as one Mitzvah. However if Sefirat haomer is about personal/ national development, then it is possible to view each and every step of growth as important and a mitzvah in its own right.

2)      Whether one can fulfill their obligation to count by listening to someone else (ie does Shomei’ah K’oneh apply to Sefirat Haomer?) If Sefirah is about getting to Matan Torah, then each person must prepare for Matan Torah themselves. However if Sefira is about personal/ national development, part of that development is the notion of Areivut -that Jews are responsible for one another- which is demonstrated through Shomei’ah K’Oneh

In these ways Sefirat HaOmer teaches us important, yet dichotomous lessons: The importance of the individual as well as the community. The value of having a goal, while appreciating every step along that journey.

Cursing The Deaf In A Fit Of Road Rage

Towards the beginning of Parshat Kedoshim we find the prohibition against placing a stumbling block before the blind. Less famous is the beginning of that verse (19:14) “Do not curse the deaf.” There is a difference of opinion as to the meaning of this verse, and why the Torah singled out the deaf for mention in regards to this prohibition.

Ramban suggests that the Torah frames these interpersonal obligations in terms of when it is most likely to be violated. For instance, we are mandated not to oppress any fellow Jew, yet the Torah framed this prohibition in reference to widows, orphans and strangers because they are most vulnerable populations. Similarly, it is prohibited to curse any Jew, and the Torah framed this prohibition in connection with the deaf, because people are more likely to curse the deaf with a sense of impunity.

The Rambam in his Sefer Hamitzvot explains otherwise. He explains that the real reason that cursing someone is prohibited is because of the negative impact that cursing has on the perpetrator. From his rational perspective the Rambam is most concerned about the damage that such behavior has on the person doing the cursing. Speaking is such a way is vile and base, it will turn that person into a coarse and insensitive human being.

We need to keep in mind both of these perspectives. We need to be careful how we treat all people, and be especially sensitive to those who are most vulnerable. At the same time let us remember the Rambam’s perspective the next time we feel like cursing out the driver in front of us in a fit of road rage. That person will not hear what we say, s/he will be deaf to our curse. But such speech and behavior will nonetheless have a negative impact on us- so is it really worth it?

The TWO Factors involved in getting to Carnegie Hall

The beginning of Parshat Acharei Mot describes in detail the intricate Yom Kippur service in the Temple. Part of that service involved two identical goats: one was slaughtered and offered in a normal manner; the other “scape” goat was sent into the wilderness and thrown off a cliff. The Torah states that the Kohen would send the scapegoat out with the “ish iti”.

Rashbam suggests that the word Iti is related to the word “eit”, time or more specifically frequency. The Ish Iti was a person that frequently traveled the wilderness. He knew his way around ad was therefore perfectly suited for the task of leading the goat into the wilderness. 

Rashi quotes the Medrash that the Ish iti was a person designated for this role from before Yom Kippur. The designation is so important that the Talmud (Yoma 66b) states that if the Ish Iti becomes ritually impure, he nonetheless enters the Temple Courtyard to perform his assigned duty.

Perhaps we can combine the two opinions to teach us a lesson that can apply to each of us. Achievement is a combination of preparation and frequent effort. Hashem may give us a certain talent, but it is up to each of us to identify that talent and then cultivate it to our maximum capacity.

            

Each of us must be an Ish Iti, finding our G-d given talents and then cultivating those talents to the best of our abilities. Just as the Talmud in Yoma seems to indicate, no one can replace us, and if we do not cultivate our talents then not only will we be missing out, but the entire world will be lacking as a result.

The Bloody Bird That Gets Away

Our Response to the Misfortune of Others Part 2 

The Bloody Bird That Gets Away

At the beginning of Parshat Metzora we learn about the purification process of the Metzora. One part of the process entails two birds: one is slaughtered and its blood is collected into an earthenware vessel. The second bird is dipped into the blood of the first bird (mixed with a few other ingredients) and then sent free. 

Rashi notes the appropriateness of using birds that chirp in the purification process for a Metzorah, who may have been afflicted due to his slanderous speech. But that is not the only unusual aspect of this ceremony. Why are two birds taken, only for one to be let free? And why is the freedom-bound bird first dipped in its peer’s blood?

To me, this teaches important lessons about how we react to the events around us. When we hear or see people dealing with difficulties, it may be that we can’t do anything to alleviate that suffering. But it nonetheless must impact us. Just like by this bird, seeing the blood of others must leave us bloodied. 

At the very least our flight away from the difficult situation must be combined with empathy. Just as the bloodied bird flees but not before being impacted by its surroundings, so too must we. As humans we are naturally protective of our lives. But our lives are only fully lived if we are not being protective of our humanity as well, which includes empathy for others.

Our Response To Knowing The Misfortune of Others

Parshat Tazria begins the description of the laws of the Metzorah. The Torah states that a person declared to be a metzorah must tear his clothes, let his hair grow out, wraps his head and “he shall call out ‘Contaminated! Contaminated!”

The Midrash (Sifra), as quoted by Rashi, explains that the Metzorah must call out his impure status so that other people know to stay away from him. A person who comes into physical contact with the Metzora would also become impure.

The Talmud (Shabbat 67) offers a different understanding. According to the Talmud, the Metzorah calls out “Tamei, Tamei” so that people are aware of his/her status and they can then pray on the Metzorah’s behalf.

I think that the two interpretations are very relevant to us in our interpersonal relationships. When we hear troubling or disturbing news- what are we supposed to do with it? For instance: a person tells me that he got into a car accident at a busy intersection and is now under medical treatment. What is my response? Do I ask him what intersection it was, so that I can be more careful when I am driving there? Do I ask him how his treatment is going so that I know whether to go to those doctors, or recommend them to my friends?

Or do I engage the person in conversation for his sake, not my own? Do I ask him if there is anything I can help him with? Do I ask him if he’d like his name added to the Mi Sheberach list?

There are definitely instances in which the information we hear about others needs to be used primarily for the benefit and protection of ourselves and our loved ones. I believe that is the message Rashi is conveying from the Sifra. However the Talmud in Shabbat reminds us that we must always ask ourselves if there are ways to utilize our knowledge of the misfortune of others to not only make our lives better- but their lives as well.  

A Purim Thought: Duress Comes in Many Forms

Towards the beginning of Megillat Esther, we read how King Achashverosh threw a big party. At that party we are told (1:8) The drinking was according to the law, without coercion.” I’d like to share a two brief commentaries on this verse. Feel free to utilize/ expand them at your Purim Seudah:

1)      Some commentators note that the word “coercion” (Ones) is written without the letter Vav. They see this as a hint to the fact that the party was not completely without coercion. Rather at the party an announcement went out: “The King desires that you eat of his food and drink of his wine…but you can do whatever you like.” The king’s wishes were made clear, even if it was also expressed that people had a choice. It’s like when a spouse or parent says, “I really want you do to X, but you can do whatever you want.”

2)      Rabbi Yonatan Eibeschutz claims that indeed the party was lacking any coercion whatsoever. And this was exactly the challenge. Freedom and liberty are a challenge for us Jews. History has shown that Judaism has experienced tremendous growth and strengthening in countries where we have been given freedom. At the same time, freedom and liberty has also contributed to unprecedented assimilation. When Napoleon was conquering Europe, there was a dispute among the rabbis in Russia whether to support Napoleon or the Czar. Some felt that the Czar was a tyrant and dictator, and the Jews could only fare better under Napoleon. Others were afraid that if Napoleon was victorious, Jews would be granted freedom; and included in that freedom was the freedom to assimilate and turn one’s back on Torah and Mitzvot.

Achashverosh appreciated the challenge of freedom and hoped that the Jews would be spiritually caught in its trap. What was true in the times of Achashverosh and Napoleon, remains true today.

Let Things Happen - Or MAKE Things Happen?

The third book of the Torah begins with the word Vayikra. The word is written with a small letter aleph. 

The word Vayikra means that “Hashem called to Moshe.” Without an aleph at the end it is also a meaningful word, Vayikar, which would mean that “Hashem happened upon Moshe.” Rashi explains that whereas G-d happens upon wicked prophets such as Bilaam, He lovingly seeks and calls out to righteous prophets such as Moshe. There are many interpretations as to why the letter aleph is written small. For example the Baal Haturim explains that the small letter is meant to highlight Moshe’s humility.

            I think that the difference between the words Vayikra and Vayikar, affords us the opportunity to note the difference that exists between “having a calling” (Vayikra) and “letting things happen to you.” (Vayikar) We all have a calling in life and we hope to hear that calling and live it. But as Ferris Bueller (the movie celebrating its 25^th anniversary this year) so eloquently put it: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

If we are not listening carefully we can end up not only missing our calling, but allowing life to just happen to us, instead of making things happen.

Perhaps this is the lesson of the little aleph. It’s a fine line between Vayikar and Vayikra, and we must be vigilant to pay attention and ask for help from the One Above in order to be successful in finding and fulfilling our calling.