Mon and Shabbat- Their Flavor Is Up To Us

The Taste of Mon, The Taste of Shabbat

In Beshalach we are introduced to the miracle of mon- the bread from Heaven that would sustain the Jewish People during their time in the wilderness (they don't know it yet, but it will end up being 40 years.) There are many miracles associated with the mon. One of the miracles is that everyone could only collect what they needed for that day- except on Friday. Friday they collected a double portion, for the mon did not fall on Saturdays.

Chazal tell us that on all other days of the week, if the Jews would try to hoard any mon for the next day, it would spoil overnight. Shabbat, however was different. On Saturday, the mon did not fall. It would appear then that on Fridays one was allowed to save mon for the next day.

It emerges then that Shabbat is the day most associated with the mon for the Jews as they leave Egypt. Their first taste of freedom and their first observance of Shabbat as a nation are tied into an extra taste, an extra amount, of mon. What is the relationship between mon and Shabbat?

I'd like to focus on just one of the miracles associated with the mon. According to some, mon tasted like whatever you wanted it to taste like. All you had to do is think about what flavor you want and the mon miraculously would acquire the your desired taste

Shabbat is so linked to mon because it shares this quality. Our Shabbat experience "tastes" like whatever you want it to taste like. Shabbat can be a day indistinguishable from the rest of the week. It can be a day that we sleep all day. It can be a day that we rue all the things that we are prohibited from doing.

Or it can be a day of family and friends, Torah study, relaxation, appreciating what we have and re-charging our batteries and souls for what is yet to come.  Shabbat can be a day on which we unplug from our cell phones and reconnect with others, ourselves and Hashem.

The Torah teaches us that on Shabbat we had extra mon- because they share an important lesson:  Like mon, Shabbos is experienced based on how we want it to taste.

Perhaps this is what it means when we say that Bnai Yisrael were tasked with:

 "V'Shamru Bnei Yisrael et Hashabbat,- to guard the Sabbath

 And also "La'asot et Hashabbat"- to make the Sabbath.

What does this mean for us to “make the Sabbath”? I thought God made the Sabbath!

V'Shamru includes the “do’s and don’ts”, the fixed, rigid contours of Shabbat commanded by God in the Torah.

La'asot et Hashabbat- refers to how each of us experiences the taste of Shabbat. Just like the mon, how Shabbat ultimately tastes for us and our family is entirely up to each of us.

The Prohibition of Chametz- While Enjoying Our Challah

The Gemara in Brachot states that Rabbi Alexandri would end his daily prayers with the following supplication:

“Master of the Universe, You know full well that it is our desire to act according to Your will. But what prevents us? The “Se’or She’ba’isa, the yeast in the dough.

                

Rabbi Alexandri equates Chametz with our yetzer harah, our Evil Inclination. The Baalei Mussar took note of the physical characteristics of Chametz and related them to bad character traits. For example, dough will only begin to rise after a period of time has elapsed. This corresponds to the trait of sloth and laziness. Similarly, with the help of yeast, dough is able to rise; a phenomenon that the Mussar Movement related to the attribute of haughtiness.

In Parshat Bo we read about the prohibition of Chametz on Pesach. The punishment for eating (or even possessing) chaemtz on Pesach is sever- karet.          The question is: If chametz is so bad, why do we eat it all year? Throughout history (putting aside, Atkins-type diets), bread has been a staple of nourishment. When the Pasuk says (Deutoronomy 8:3)

“Not by bread alone does man live, rather by everything that emanates from G-d’s mouth does man live”.

The Torah is effectively telling us that in terms of nutrition, human beings can and do subsist on just bread. How are we to make sense of eating our daily bread the other 51 weeks of the year if it is associated with such negative connotations?

The answer is that Chametz is not evil. During the course of our lives, most of the time bread, as a food and as a symbol, is appropriate and necessary. It is in regards to our commemoration and celebration of Pesach that chametz has no place. Let’s take another look at chametz and try to understand why this is so.

                

Bread is the result of adding yeast to dough. Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Berlin, the Netziv, writes,

“Leaven is a human invention used to modify through ingenuity the world that G-d created.” The Netziv utilizes this construct to understand why leaven (and honey) are forbidden to be brought on the altar in the Temple. He explains that an encounter with G-d at the altar is not the time to demonstrate our ability to innovate. Rather, bringing a Korban is a time to reflect on G-d as Creator and the Cause of all human ingenuity and achievement. Chametz represents man’s ability to use his intellect in conquest of the world around him. Although an important and necessary perspective for our lives, there is no room for Chametz on Pesach. Pesach commemorates the birth of the Jewish People. At that moment of Exodus we were passive, as Hashem tells Moshe at the Splitting of the Sea:

“Hashem yilachem Lachem V’Atem Tacharishun” – “You remain passive and God will fight for you”

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 the Passover symbol. Acknowledging the role of Hashem within the realm of human creativity is a theme that Pesach shares with Shabbat, when we are commanded to rest from work and recognize G-d as creator and cause of all. This helps us understand why the Torah, in describing the the Mitzvah of Sefirat Haomer, refers to Pesach as Shabbat:

“Usefartem lachem mimacharat Hashabbat.” We begin counting the Omer the day after ‘Shabbat”- (we begin counting the day after) Pesach, the time in which, like Shabbat, we remember our total dependence on G-d. There is nothing wrong with chametz, just not the message of Pesach.

As we enjoy our challah over Shabbat Parshat Bo, let us remember the importance of both chametz and matzah: human ingenuity and humility in our relationship with Hashem.

God of The Universe and God My Universe

Parshat Va’era begins with God identifying Himself to Moshe:

I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob with [the name] Almighty God, but [with] My name YHWH, I did not become known to them.

גוָאֵרָא אֶל אַבְרָהָם אֶל יִצְחָק וְאֶל יַעֲקֹב בְּאֵל שַׁדָּי וּשְׁמִי יְהֹוָה לֹא נוֹדַעְתִּי לָהֶם:

Maimonides notes that it is impossible to comprehend the essence of God. All that we are able to understand of the Almighty is the manner in which He interacts with us and the universe. The Vilna Gaon explained that when we say a beracha we begin with Baruch Ata Hashem (YHWH name of God ) to indicate that on the most fundamental level we are unable to comprehend the Divine.

Immediately thereafter we invoke the name Elo-heinu, which according to the Vilna Gaon represents the Personal God, the God who plays an ongoing role in our personal lives. The third and final mention of God at the beginning of blessings is Melech Ha’Olam, Master of the Universe, which declares our belief not just in Hashgacha Pratit, ie God’s role in the life of the individual, but Hashgacha Klalit, God’s role in the big picture of history, humanity and the universe.

We invoke the personal God first and only afterwards do we mention the Universal God. Perhaps this is so because living with an awareness of a personal God is the more difficult task. It can sometimes be easier to talk about God in the abstract compared to appreciating God in the realm of practice. It is easier for many to believe in the God of The Universe, than it is to believe in the God of My Universe.

Every time we say a blessing it is an opportunity to cultivate and nurture this more relevant, yet challenging, personal relationship with Hashem. 

There Are No Guarantees

At the end of his life, Yaakov wanted to leave his children with a message of hope and consolation. Chapter 49 begins with Yaakov calling together his sons at which point he says, 

Jacob called for his sons and said, "Gather and I will tell you what will happen to you at the end of days.

אוַיִּקְרָא יַעֲקֹב אֶל בָּנָיו וַיֹּאמֶר הֵאָסְפוּ וְאַגִּידָה לָכֶם אֵת אֲשֶׁר יִקְרָא אֶתְכֶם בְּאַחֲרִית הַיָּמִים:

However if we look further in the Parsha we will see that Yaakov does not live up to this particular promise. He blesses his children but we see no further explicit mention of the End of Days anywhere else in Yaakov’s last words. Rashi quotes the Midrash that Yaakov wanted to reveal to his children when Moshiach would come, but just then his Divine inspiration departed and he no longer had access to that information.

                

We can understand Yaakov’s desire to take leave of his children on a note of optimism abd comfort. His family was now in Egypt and the years of slavery were yet to begin. As Yaakov lay on his deathbed, his sons were feeling vulnerable and dejected. It is only natural that Yaakov wanted to tell his children that “everything will be OK- and I can prove it to you by telling you when Moshiach will come.”

                

However Yaakov was not allowed to convey that message. In this way the Torah is teaching us that there are no sure things in life. We have to try our best every day, even when the results are not guaranteed. We cannot give up on doing the right thing, even when if we do not understand where it is all leading; even when it appears that “nice guys finish last”.

             
It would have been great had Yaakov been allowed to assure us that everything would work out OK in the end. By God not allowing him to do so, we are given the greater challenge – living a righteous life without any guarantees.

Standard Bearers for the Past and the Future

When Yaakov is introduced to Pharaoh in Egypt he is asked his age. Yaakov responds in a surprising manner:

And Jacob said to Pharaoh, "The days of the years of my sojournings are one hundred thirty years. The days of the years of my life have been few and miserable, and they have not reached the days of the years of the lives of my forefathers in the days of their sojournings."

טוַיֹּאמֶר יַעֲקֹב אֶל פַּרְעֹה יְמֵי שְׁנֵי מְגוּרַי שְׁלשִׁים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה מְעַט וְרָעִים הָיוּ יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיַּי וְלֹא הִשִּׂיגוּ אֶת יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיֵּי אֲבֹתַי בִּימֵי מְגוּרֵיהֶם:

There are a number of questions that immediately came to my mind (this time I read this verse):

Why does Yaakov call his years “few and bad” at this juncture- especially since he has just been reunited with his long lost son Yosef? Granted, he has just been forced to relocate- which is never easy and certainly not so for a man of Yaakov’s age- over 100 years old. But even within that difficult transition- God has just spoken directly to him and assured Yaakov that things will be OK- that God will continue to be with him and his family with transition from a family clan into the nation that was promised to Avraham.

What does Yaakov mean when he says that his years have not reached the life span of his father or grandfather? Yaakov is still alive!

Perhaps we can better understand Yaakov’s declaration in light of a Rabbinic teaching: A person should always be asking him/herself:  When will my actions reach the actions of my forefathers, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov?" (Tanna deBei Eliyahu 25)

At this crossroads in Yaakov’s life he reflects and wonders whether he has lived up to his family name. He wonders whether his father and grandfather would be proud of the choices he’s made and the direction his life- and that of his children and grandchildren- has gone. No amount of Divine assurance is sufficient for a person to stop asking him/herself that question.

As we read this episode- the very beginning of the pivotal Jewish experience that was Egyptian slavery- we should accustom ourselves to think in a similar way. As parents and transmitters of a rich Jewish tradition we should ask ourselves: Are we doing our part to project a rich and meaningful Jewish life that can be a model for the next generation. As receivers of this tradition we must ask ourselves: How are we doing at safeguarding And nurturing that gift of Jewish values that was safeguarded by our ancestors and then entrusted to us?

The Universal Lesson of Chanukah

The Halacha states that the most appropriate time to light Chanukah candles is at sunset. However if for whatever reason it is not done at sunset,  one can light Chanukah candles “until there are no more pedestrians coming back from market.” The Talmud goes on to explain that that the very last people to go home from the market were the Tarmoda’i merchants who sold small twigs to other merchants as firewood. After all of the customers went home for the day, the shopkeepers had to close up shop before making their way home. Oftentimes, after arriving home they would be informed that the house needed firewood to stay warm through the night. The shopkeepers would then have to trek back to the market, where the Tarmoda’i would be waiting to make their last sales of the day. One is allowed to light Chanukah candles so long as these Tarmoda’i have not made it home yet.

            According to Rashi, these Tarmoda’i were not Jewish. It emerges that the criteria for lighting Chanukah candles is not necessarily that Jews should see the Chanukah lights. So long as even non-Jews, such as these Tarmoda’i,  have seen the Chanukah candles, one has dispensed of his obligation to publicize the miracle of Chanukah. The question is why does it help to publicize this Jewish miracle to non-Jews?

            Rabbi Soloveitchik suggests that the struggle and victory of Chanukah is one that deserves the attention of the non-Jewish world as well. As opposed to other celebrations of victory and salvation (for example- Purim) on Chanukah there is no indication that the physical lives of the Jewish people were at risk. Rather the threat that the Maccabees encountered was an existential spiritual threat.

            To fight for one’s life is something that all people do- in fact even animal instincts dictate that an animal defends its physical existence. However in the story of Chanukah the Jews fought with similar vigor to defend their right to live Jewish lives. That is something that not everyone understands. Non-Jewish religions may not have ingrained the idea that some religious values are worth fighting for, even worth dying for. It is this aspect of the story and victory that is appropriate to publicize to all- even non-Jews.

            The notion that there are"ideals worth fighting for," or even worth dying for, has become a problematic topic, tarnished due to terrorists who justify not just dying, but killing for their ideals. As we celebrate Shabbat Chanukah let us ask ourselves: Are there values and causes for which we are willing to fight? What are they? How do we remain firm in our convictions and teach others to do so as well, while  encouraging a culture of tolerance at the same time?

The problem with asking for some peace

ועוד נדרש בו וישב ביקש יעקב לישב בשלוה, קפץ עליו רוגזו של יוסף.

When Jacob sought to dwell in tranquility, the troubles of Joseph sprang upon him

Rashi quotes this Midrash at the beginning of Parshat Vayeshev that seems critical of Yaakov’s desire for some peace and respite after many years of challenges and turmoil. The question that must be asked is: Why? What’s wrong with seeking some peace? Isn’t peace a great blessing that we seek for ourselves from Hashem?

I’d like to suggest an answer based on explanations that I recently read on the bleassing of “Birkat Hashanim” in our Amidah. This is a timely blessing to review since we will begin to say “V’tein Tal Umatar” beginning Saturday night with Maariv.

In that bracha we ask Hashem to bless “Et Hashana Hazot” THIS year, with prosperity. The problem is that we believe that one’s prosperity is set at Rosh Hashanah. So what are we asking for all year long?

The son of the Vilna Gaon explains that blessings can materialize in many different ways; some easier and some with more challenges. For instance, even if we have been decreed to receive the blessing of rain for the year- that blessing can manifest in a way that is easier- ie it rains at convenient times in proper amounts in the right locations. Or that blessing can materialize in more challenging ways. The lesson is that no blessing is unequivocal.

The Midrash is critiquing Yaakov for imagining that the blessing of “shalva” was unequivocally positive. It’s understandable that Yaakov thought so- after all he had experienced no peace and quiet for close to a quarter century. But even “Shalva” is only sometimes a bracha. I am reminded of what some of my “empty nester” friends will tell me when I appear haggard by the noise and mess that comes with the blessing of 4 energetic children. They will tell me that when the house empties and there is peace and quiet- I will miss the noise. (I try to keep that perspective in mind, instead of buying earplugs.)

Later in the bracha of Birkat Hashanim  we ask that God bless this year “Kashanim Hatovot” , “Like the good years”. The Siach Yitzchak explains this is meant to highlight for us the challenges that can accompany any blessing; specifically the challenge of ignoring God and thinking that our success is a result of our own efforts and cutting the Divine out of the picture. “Good Years” means a time in which we are the recipient of God’s blessings- and still remember where it all came from.

With this in mind, we can suggest a second aspect of the Midrash’s critique of Yaakov’s request for “shalva”. Shalva, like many blessings in life, cannot be viewed as an end onto itself. Peace and tranquility are blessings that enable us to accomplish and enjoy. Yaakov asked for “shalva” but viewed it merely as a respite from all of the challenges he had thus far experienced, instead of considering what he would be able to accomplish going forward with the gift of “shalva”

.

The Midrash is teaching us the contours of a proper request for blessing. First, we must request with the understanding that no blessing is unequivocal. “Be careful what you pray for, for you might get it” is something we need to consider carefully. Second, we must view blessings not as a response/ reward for the past but as an opportunity and a means to propel us forward.