Lessons from the Schach

The Talmud in Megilla 11a learns that vines and vegetation must be detached from the ground before being utilized as s’chach. In its discussion of acceptable s’chach, the Gemara asks the following question:  Can you use vines or palm leaves that were still attached to the ground when placed over the sukkah, but were then cut? Would that be considered kosher s’chach? On the one hand, when you placed the leaves in their schach position, they were still attached to the ground. However, since you subsequently cut them, perhaps it should be viewed as detached and completely kosher. There is a dispute between Rav and Shmuel on this matter. Rav says that by cutting the leaves from the ground, you have done an intentional action that created kosher s’chach. Shmuel holds that this would not suffice. Since the position of the freshly cut leaves is identical to where they were while attached to the ground, the vegetation remains invalid for s’chach. The only way to remedy the situation, according to Shmuel is to move the leaves a little bit after they have been cut. In this way the s’chach can be viewed as having been placed for the purpose of the mitzvah of sukkah in their detached, (kosher) state. 

The basis for Shmuel’s opinion is the pasuk in Parshas Re’eh: חַ֧ג הַסֻּכֹּ֛ת תַּֽעֲשֶׂ֥ה לְךָ֖ שִׁבְעַ֣ת יָמִ֑ים “You shall make the holiday of Sukkot for a 7-day holiday”

The Talmud learns from here: “Taaseh V’Lo Min Ha’Asuy”. The sukkah must be actively made and cannot be fashioned from something that has already been used for other purposes. Taaseh V’Lo Min Haasuy is not a concept unique to s’chach. The Gemara in Sukkah discusses the application of Taaseh V’lo min Haasauy to the mitzvah of tzitizit as well.

The s’chach literally hangs over our holiday celebration and reminds us that no matter what the mitzva, no matter what memory or theme we are trying to evoke, Taaseh, V’lo Min Haasuy! Our mitzvot must always be fresh. Our mitzvot can never just be “called in”; they must be performed with intention and special for each occasion. They should be accompanied with vigor and creativity. We cannot merely utilize what already exists to dispense our obligations.

The symbolism of s’chach is two-fold. Rav Hirsch pointed out that the s’chach warns us to never forget our complete reliance on Hashem. For what good are walls without a roof? And when we look up in our sukkah we see how we remain exposed to the elements. With this in mind we will be motivated to cling to Hashem and His Torah. On this point, too, the s’chach comes to warn us “Taaseh v’Lo min Haasauy”: In our service to Hashem, there are no shortcuts. What worked for the other person, or even for me last year is invalid. Each of us must create anew our spiritual path.

There’s a Halachic concept related to sukkah known as “Teishvu K’Ein Taduru”, which refers to the fact that our living in the sukkah should resemble how we live in our homes all year. Perhaps the comparison can also be made in the reverse. Our sitting in the sukkah should teach us how to live in our homes- with vitality and with faith in Hashem. May we learn the lessons of s’chach and bring them back indoors to enrich the rest of our year.

What Shabbat Can Teach us About Yom Kippur

Yom Kippur is called Shabbat Shabbaton. When we look carefully at Shabbat and Yom Kippur independently, we begin to realize that Yom Kippur is called Shabbat Shabbaton because it takes the themes of Shabbat to a whole new level.

On Shabbat we are imbued with a neshama yeteira, an additional soul. On Yom Kippur this idea is taken to the next level: we act completely in consonance with the soul. We shun material comfort and distractions and focus on spiritual pursuits that help to strengthen our relationship to G-d. Shabbat is “Me’ein Olam Habah” in that our physical activities are directed towards a spiritual goal. Yom Kippur is 25 hours of actual Olam Habah (World to Come), as is evident from the fact that we recite the verse “Baruch Shem Kevod malchuto” aloud just like the angels in heaven.

Shabbat commemorates the creation of the world. Observing Shabbat serves as testimony to the fact that G-d created the world and rested on the seventh day. As Shabbat Shabbaton, Yom Kippur commemorates something even more fundamental. You may ask what can possibly be more fundamental than the 6 days of creation. The answer is found in Pirkei Avot, where we learn that Teshuva as a concept was created before the world. This makes sense as the ability to rectify (and even elevate) our mistakes runs contrary to all of the natural laws of cause and effect. For Teshuva to exist in the world, it must’ve pre-dated creation. Our observance of Yom Kippur commemorates the creation of Teshuva and testifies to G-d’s desire to grant atonement to those who approach him in sincere repentance.

On Shabbat we welcome G-d into our homes. We clean the house and set the table in Shabbat’s honor. On an ordinary Shabbat we would sing Shalom Aleichem, welcoming Hashem’s angels into our homes. On Yom Kippur, this relationship is intensified- as Hashem invites us to join Him. As the verse says,

“Before G-d you shall be purified.” It is up to us to become purified. What is unalterable is the fact that on Yom Kippur we stand before G-d as invited guests into a realm where spirituality is the focus.

Shabbat is a day that we can only fully appreciate with preparation. As the Talmud states (Avoda Zara 3a): “Those who prepare on Friday, will have what to eat on Shabbat.”

Yom Kippur takes preparation to a whole new level. Yom Kippur is the culmination of a process of introspection that was supposed to begin 40 days ago, on Rosh Chodesh Elul. In the Beit Hamikdash, the Kohen Gadol who has a key role to play on Yom Kippur would begin preparing a week in advance. On Yom Kippur itself, each ensuing part of the day, every subsequent tefilah, prepares us for an upcoming moment that should be even more meaningful. Already in the first Selicha we will recite Yom Kippur night, we make mention of Neilah. The hope is that every word of tefilah will enhance the subsequent one, culminating in a Neilah that will be optimally meaningful.

The Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni) in Parshat Yitro explains that Shabbat serves as the anchor to the weekdays before and after it. On Shabbat we reflect on the previous week’s accomplishments. This is an aspect of Zachor, remembering the past week. Additionally on Shabbat we resolve to do better in the upcoming week. This is an aspect of Shamor, watching and correcting ourselves for the future.

As Shabbat Shabbaton, Yom Kippur also serves as an anchor. It is not an anchor for two weeks, but rather it is our anchor for both the previous and upcoming years. We reflect on the past year 5784 and recognize those areas in which we might have come up short. We also resolve to take the concrete steps necessary for improvement in this new year of 5785.

Hearing the Shofar: More Difficult Than It Sounds

Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, “It is the province of knowledge to speak, and it is the privilege of wisdom to listen.” Less pithy, but just as accurate is the saying that G-d created us with two ears and with one mouth because we are supposed to do twice as much listening as talking.

On Rosh Hashana, the only concrete mitzvah that is unique to the holiday entails using our ears. On both days of Rosh Hashanah this year the Baal Tokeiah will recite the following blessing on our behalf:

 “Blessed are you Hashem, Our G-d, king of the Universe who has sanctified us with His Commandments and commanded us Lishmo’ah Kol Shofar.

What does it mean “Lishmoah” the sound of the Shofar? It could mean to physically hear the shofar; that is to ensure that the sound waves emanating from the ram’s horn reach our ear drums. Halacha emphasizes the importance of physically hearing the shofar in a number of instances. For example, an individual who cannot hear is exempt from the mitzvah of shofar. The sound that enters our ears must be pure and unadulterated. For example, one cannot use a shofar whose mouth is covered in gold. This is because the gold will stifle the natural sound of the ram’s horn. Along the same lines, the Talmud expresses its concern towards a person hearing the shofar from someone who is down in a pit. The Rabbis warn that the listeners need to be careful that they are actually hearing the sound of the shofar, as opposed to the sound of any echo.

But Lishmoah also means to listen to the shofar, not just to hear. Hearing and listening are two very different procedures. We use our ears to hear, while listening also requires the use of our mental and emotional faculties. Perhaps the best example of this is found in the pasuk “Shema Yisroel Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad”. We need to not only hear, but understand and internalize the significance of G-d’s oneness.

Rav Chaim Soloveitchik, grandfather of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik put it this way: Hearing the shofar is the necessary physical pre-requisite (the maaseh mitzvah), while listening to the shofar gives that physical act meaning and elevates it to the status of a mitzvah (kiyum hamitzvah). It is therefore not surprising that the Rambam requires a special level of kavanah, intent, while fulfilling the obligation of shofar above and beyond that which is necessary for other mitzvot. Since hearing is a passive endeavor, the mitzvah of shofar requires greater sophistication and intention in order to give it “mitzvah credibility”, more so than that which is necessary for dynamic activities such as eating matzah or shaking a lulav.

Some people are hard of hearing; many more are hard of listening. Though most of us were born with the ability to hear with our ears, fewer people have refined that ability of hearing into the art of listening. Let us take advantage of Rosh Hashanah’s unique mitzvah of hearing the shofar to inspire us to develop our listening skills. In that merit, may Hashem hear and listen to our prayers this Rosh Hashanah and grant us all a year of blessings and peace.

Messages from the Past

A team of volunteers excavating an archaeological site in Normandy, France, found a “time capsule” this week from a 19th century colleague who surveyed the region nearly 200 years ago. “P. J. Féret, a native of Dieppe, member of various intellectual societies, carried out excavations here in January 1825,” the message rolled up inside a glass flask said. “He continues his  investigations in this vast area known as the Cité de Limes or Caesar’s Camp.” The message was found while the volunteers were conducting an emergency dig at the ancient Gaulish clifftop village near the town of Eu, France, because of erosion on the hillside. The message and its flask were found inside an  earthenware pot at the Cité de Limes. “It was an absolutely magic moment,” team leader Guillaume Blondel told BBC News. “We knew there had been excavations here in the past, but to find this message from 200 years ago… it was a total surprise.”

He added: “Sometimes you see these time capsules left behind by carpenters when they build houses, but it’s very rare in   archaeology. Most archaeologists prefer to think that there won’t be anyone coming after them because they’ve done all the work!”

These finds are exciting because they allow people to connect with a specific person and a  specific message from centuries ago. As Jews we are lucky that we have a rich tradition of    messages and texts from great people who lived hundreds, and even thousands, of years ago. Sefer Devarim is Moshe’s final speech to the Jewish people, and Parshat Nitzvaim is the last portion of that speech. It was delivered by Moshe the day  before he died at age 120. In Nitzavim Moshe both warns and encourages Bnei Yisrael.

He warns the people that turning away from Hashem’s commands will lead to disaster. But Moshe also strikes an encouraging note by telling Bnei Yisrael that we have the choice to do what’s right, and when we choose correctly we will be rewarded. Even when we choose incorrectly we have the opportunity to do teshuva and to recover from our setbacks.

Moshe’s message in Parshat Nitzavim is a timely one as we have reached the last Shabbat of the year.

Ashkenazim will begin reciting Selichot on Saturday night. There will be two Selichot services in the Sanctuary on Saturday night: one at 12 midnight and the other at 1:15 am (chatzot). Between the two   Selichot services there will be a kumsitz with the YIH Rabbis. Selichot marks the beginning of the Yomim Noraim season; a time to reflect on the messages that we have received from our Torah, our teachers, and our tradition.

On the last Shabbat of last year, 5783, none of us could have imagined what the upcoming year would bring for The Jewish People and for the State of   Israel. May it be Hashem’s will that the upcoming year of 5785 brings unimaginable blessings and salvation for Am Yisrael and for Medinat Yisrael.

Be Like A Sunflower

Researchers at Tel Aviv University say they have discovered that sunflowers growing together in dense environments move in a zigzag pattern as if they’re dancing, not only to get more sunlight but also to avoid blocking the sunlight of their neighbor.

The discovery sheds light on a scientific idea that Charles Darwin first explored 200 years ago when he observed that plants moved in circular movements, called circumnutations.

The study, led by Prof. Yasmine Meroz from Tel Aviv’s School of Plant Sciences and Food Security and Prof. Orit Peleg from the University of Colorado Boulder, along with other researchers, was published last week in the peer-reviewed journal Physical Review X. University. (Courtesy/Tel Aviv University)

Researchers at Tel Aviv University say they have discovered that sunflowers growing together in dense environments move in a zigzag pattern as if they’re dancing, not only to get more sunlight but also to avoid blocking the sunlight of their neighbor.

The discovery sheds light on a scientific idea that Charles Darwin first explored 200 years ago when he observed that plants moved in circular movements, called circumnutations.

The study, led by Prof. Yasmine Meroz from Tel Aviv’s School of Plant Sciences and Food Security and Prof. Orit Peleg from the University of Colorado Boulder, along with other researchers, was published last week in the peer-reviewed journal Physical Review X. In describing how sunflowers moved in their experiment, Meroz and Peleg told The Times of Israel by telephone to “imagine a party where it’s very, very crowded.” If nobody moves, said Meroz, “then you’re stuck in some places which are kind of empty, and other places, like next to the buffet, where it’s very, very crowded.” But if “you dance just the right amount,” she said, “then you will have enough space.” The experiment showed that sunflowers “seem to wiggle.” One flower will “go to the right, another to the left, in a zigzag pattern,” the researchers said, moving in circumnutations that seem to be coordinated so that a crowded group of plants can move about “collectively to find more light.” The researchers said their work was inspired by research done on sunflowers grown closely together in a field. The flowers perceive light signals from their immediate neighbors and change their positions for optimal growth of the crowded group. Meroz and Peleg grew five sunflowers close together in a row and followed their movements by taking a time-lapse photo every couple of minutes over a week to 10 days to make a movie where the sunflowers seemed to be wiggling in a zigzag pattern like in a dance. “We saw that the plants moved a lot — a lot more than we thought they would,” Meroz said. “The idea came to us that these circumnutations might have a function in helping these plants find “an optimal configuration, where all of them have enough sunlight,” Meroz said.

The study indicates that sunflowers wiggle not only to optimize their own access to sunlight, but they also do so in a way that optimizes the sunlight for their fellow sunflowers. This is a classic example of “win-win”. Just like sunflowers, we should never view life as “zero sum”. Our wins do not need to come about at the expense of someone else’s loss. In Ki Tavo the pasuk says הסכת ושמע. What does the word הסכת mean? The Gemara in Berachot 63b suggests that הסכת has the word כת in it, to teach us that Torah is optimally acquired in a group setting. Sunflowers are one of my favorite flowers, and we can learn important lessons from them. We should strive to be like the sunflower, seeking to maximize our own potential while seeking to lift up and optimize others at the same time.

Strength In Vulnerability

 At the end of this morning’s Parsha, Ki Teitzei, the Torah encourages us to remember a time in our national history during which we were vulnerable, and directs us in how to channel those feelings.

In the seventh aliyah, The Torah states: Vezacharta Ki Eved Hayita B’Mitzrayim:

Remember the suffering and vulnerability that you felt, and that you may continue to feel due to your experiences in Egypt. One possible response to vulnerability is to sublimate those feelings into an attitude of indifference and callousness. One who had been a slave in Egypt might say to him/herself, “when I was vulnerable in Egypt, no one helped me but Hashem. Now that I am self-sufficient let everyone take care of him/ herself.”

For this reason, the Torah commands us to be extra vigilant not to pervert justice in cases that involve the Ger Yatom or Almanah; the stranger, orphan and widow.

There is a relationship between feeling vulnerable and feelings of love and connection towards others. The more vulnerable we are willing to be, the stronger that relationship can grow. To fully connect we have to take risks- the risk of exposing who we really are and the risk of facing rejection. Taking those risks will increase our feeling of connectedness. Perhaps that is what the Torah is telling us by the Stranger Orphan and Widow: We should tap into our feelings of vulnerability because by doing so we will be more inclined to empathize with their situation, connect with them, and provide for them. I believe there’s a kal v’chomer at work here: if remembering our vulnerabilities can help deepen our bond with those whom we don’t know well, how much more so can it strengthen our connection to loved ones and those familiar to us.

There is a tradition that Elul is an acronym for various themes that should serve as mantras and tasks for the month leading into the High Holidays. One such acronym that many are familiar with is Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li (“I am for my beloved, and my beloved is for me”). Elul is a time to appreciate and reenergize our relationships with family, with friends and with Hashem. A lesser known acronym is based on the verse in Parshat Mishpatim (21:13). Concerning the accidental murderer who did not plan on murdering, the verse states: Ina L’yado Vsamti Lecha (makom) “God brought [it] about into his hand, I will make a place for you (to which he shall flee.)”

Hashem orchestrated a scenario in which this person is involved in an accidental killing. So it is Hashem who has also provided a place for him to go: the Ir Miklat, City of Refuge. Now, the words may form an acronym for Elul- but how does it relate to the theme of the month?

An accidental murderer must feel confused guilty and, yes, vulnerable. There is a Goel Hadam (blood avenger) after him and the death wasn’t even his fault. Elul is the time to tap into those feelings of vulnerability to allow us to question long held assumptions, see things in a new light, and deepen our connections to Hashem and to each oth

צֶ֥דֶק צֶ֖דֶק תִּרְדֹּ֑ף: Righteousness, Righteousness, Shall You Pursue

 The repetition of the word “Tzedek” in this verse from Parshat Shoftim has been the subject of much discussion and commentary. Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa famously explained this verse to mean that righteousness must not only be an ends, it must also be the means. We may not utilize unjust methods, even in the interests of a just cause. Many people focus exclusively on outcomes and the “bottom line”. However this is not a correct approach to life. Ethical living mandates that we consider the process and not just the outcome. Rabbi Chami Shmulewitz learns this lesson from the episode in Parshat Shemini. Moshe at first criticized Aharon in his role as Kohen Gadol for burning a sacrifice against Moshe’s instructions. Aharon countered that perhaps Moshe had misunderstood the Divine commandment. Ultimately Moshe admits that he had made a mistake; Moshe was wrong and Aharon was right. Rabbi Shmulewitz notes that Moshe was faced with a dilemma. If Moshe admitted that he had a mistake, it could jeopardize people’s belief in the veracity and authenticity of the entire Torah. If Moshe admitted making a mistake, people could ask: What else did Moshe forget? In what other ways did Moshe corrupt the Divine commandments? From this perspective we could understand why Moshe might gloss over his mistake, or even argue that he made no mistake at all. Instead Moshe understood that his only responsibility was to tell the truth; even if it put him in a negative light, even if it could jeopardize the way people viewed Torah more generally.

The Talmud teaches that in a capital case, if all 71 judges of the Sanhedrin find the defendant guilty, then the defendant is let go. The rationale is that the cross-examination of eye witnesses for a capital case was so meticulous that there was bound to be a discrepancy between the testimonies of the two witnesses, and this discrepancy would be grounds for an acquittal. (This is another reason why the death penalty was considered exceedingly rare by the Talmud). If the testimonies were exactly the same such as all 71 judges voted guilty, then that would be considered suspicious enough to acquit as well. What happens if a capital case comes before the Sanhedrin. The first 70 judges declare the defendant guilty. The 71^st judge also thinks that the defendant is guilty. If the last judge votes guilty- then the defendant will go free. If the 71^st judge votes not guilty- then the defendant will receive capital punishment (as the last judge believes the defendant deserves), but in order to receive that punishment, the last judge has to lie and say “non guilty” so that the Sanhedrin’s decision is not unanimous. The Ohr Hachayim says that the 71^st judge must vote his opinion and say “not guilty” even though the outcome of his saying the truth will be the opposite of what he wants for the defendant. The Ohr Hachaim explains that this is an example of pursuing righteousness in a righteous fashion.  A person is obligate to speak the truth as s/he sees it, rather than considering the outcomes or results. The process lies in human hands. Results are up to God. Let’s make sure that we pursue our goals in a righteous fashion.