1. Practice Makes Perfect
At the end of the previous Parsha, Aaron the High Priest and his sons were told to spend seven days at the Tent of Meeting in preparation for the official inauguration of the Tabernacle. This week?s Parsha opens by describing the priestly service of ?the eighth day?, the day upon which the Tabernacle was officially dedicated and the priests assumed their formal role in the service of G-d.
The question: Why does the Torah refer to the day upon which the Tabernacle was consecrated as ?the eighth day?? Shouldn?t it be called ?the first day??
The answer: In his book Kol Dodi on the Torah, Rabbi David Feinstein, Rosh Yeshiva of Mesivta Tifereth Jerusalem, says that the Torah wishes to teach us that the preparations one makes for doing a mitzvah are nearly as important as the performance of the mitzvah itself. By referring to the day upon which the Tabernacle was inaugurated as ?the eighth day?, the Torah is indicating that the preceding seven days of preparation and practice were also significant. Rabbi Feinstein writes, ?The seven days which preceded the consecration, even though they were not the ultimate raison d?etre of the Mishkan [Tabernacle], had an importance nearly equal to that of the days that followed.? Were it not for the preparation, it would be impossible to do the mitzvah in an appropriate manner.
The lesson: Sadly, it has become common in some circles to downplay the significance of physically building the Land of Israel, arguing that such toil is not a priority because the purpose of being here is entirely spiritual. ?Leave something for the Messiah to do,? people joke, asserting that we should devote our efforts completely to spiritual matters. Such a perspective, however, fails to appreciate the point made above, namely that even the preparatory work for a mitzvah, as mundane as it might seem, can constitute a spiritual act. Going to a forest and chopping wood can be a sacred act, if it is done for use in building a Sukkah. Similarly, building Israel physically prepares the country to better fill its intended spiritual role in the world. The preparations we make now, by strengthening and expanding the State, are an integral part of the process of national redemption. Settling the land, building homes, paving roads ? all are seemingly mundane acts, but they carry within them sparks of holiness. It may be hard to conceive of the Public Works Department, or the National Water Authority, as forces for spiritual development. But even if those who do such work may not always be aware of it, they are laying the groundwork for Israel?s final redemption, and that is something that no one has the right to belittle.
2. Communal Mourning
The Parsha relates that on the day of the inauguration of the Tabernacle, at the height of the festive celebrations, two of Aaron?s sons (Nadav and Avihu) brought ?an alien fire? (Chap. 10, verse 1) into the Sanctuary and tragically died when a fire issued from G-d and consumed them. The Torah tells us that upon hearing the dreadful news, Aaron remained silent (Chap. 10, verse 3). After the bodies of Nadav and Avihu were removed from the scene, Moshe comforts Aaron that ?your brethren the entire House of Israel will weep over the fire that G-d ignited? (Chap. 10, verse 6).
The question: If Aaron remained silent in the face of the tragedy, why did all of Israel weep for his loss?
The answer: Rabbi Yosef Shaul Natanson, Rabbi of Lvov, answers by saying that the deaths of Nadav and Avihu were Aaron?s personal tragedy, and a Jew is supposed to accept whatever befalls him in life with love and faith in G-d. Hence, Aaron?s heroic silence in the face of the horrible news is praised by the Sages, who tell us in the Talmud in Tractate Zevahim (115b) that Aaron ?remained silent and was rewarded?. But for the rest of the Jewish people, the deaths of Nadav and Avihu constituted the tragedy of a fellow Jew and, says Rabbi Natanson, one is forbidden to accept another person?s sufferings with silence. Rather, one must participate in his fellow Jew?s mourning. This, says Rabbi Natanson, is why Aaron remained silent but all of Israel wept.
The lesson: This week, Israel marked Yom HaShoah, the day that commemorates the six million Jews murdered by the Germans and their collaborators during the Holocaust. Next week is Yom HaZikaron, when the country unites in memory of those who gave their lives defending Israel on the battlefield. Sirens sound across the country, and all activity comes to a halt as people rise and stand silently, recalling the heroism and sacrifice of others. Unfortunately, there are those who openly disdain such ceremonies, brazenly ignoring the sirens without regard for the pain and anguish this causes others. They continue about their business, breaking the ranks of unity as the nation mourns it fallen. Whatever justification they may offer for their actions, such people ignore the two-fold lesson to be learned from Aaron?s tragedy. First, standing in silent contemplation in memory of the fallen has a precedent in Jewish history, as Aaron himself demonstrated. Indeed, what could be more meaningful than to take a moment of silent reflection, to recall those who were killed and to better appreciate what it was they fought and died for. While in Aaron?s case, it was only he who stood silent, as the rest of the nation wept, the practice in Israel today is for everyone to stand silently during the siren. That is how the community mourns, as a community, and to refrain from participating is to show disdain for the collective?s grief. Second, as we saw above, another Jew?s loss is everybody?s loss. When tragedy strikes and a precious young Jew is killed on the battlefield, it is not only a private calamity for the family involved ? it is also a national catastrophe, one that demands that we all take part in the suffering of the family, the collective Jewish family. How sad that there are those who fail to appreciate this simple, basic truth.
3. Bird-Brain Critics
The Torah delineates the laws of Kashrut (keeping Kosher), listing which animals and fish may and may not be eaten. The Torah then lists which birds are forbidden for consumption, one of which is called ?Da?ah?, better known as a vulture (Chap. 11, verse 14).
The question: In Deuteronomy (Chap. 14, verse 13), the ?Da?ah? is referred to as ?Ra?ah?. Why?
The answer: The Talmud in Tractate Chullin (63b) says that the vulture is called ?Ra?ah? because of its keen sense of vision, which allows it to see great distances (the Hebrew word ?Ra?ah? means ?it saw?). The Talmud describes the vulture as follows: ?it stands in Babylonia and sees carrion in the Land of Israel.? Hence, it is referred to in Deuteronomy as ?Ra?ah?.
The lesson: As the Palestinians intensify their violent attacks against Israel, the Jewish state has been forced to respond with increasingly firm measures. The mortar shells fired by Palestinians this week at the Israeli city of Sderot prompted the Israeli Army to briefly enter Palestinian-controlled territory in northern Gaza. Even though Israel?s measures have been purely defensive in nature, critics abroad have raised their voices in protest, harshly attacking Israel for having the nerve to try to protect its citizens. Sadly, some of the loudest and harshest of the critics have been Jews. This brings to mind the comments of Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, in his book Oznaim LaTorah, on the section of Talmud cited above about the vulture and its vision. Rabbi Sorotzkin points out that it is a great talent to see things from a distance, but since the vulture uses this talent to see ?carrion? (i.e. something negative or derogatory) in the Land of Israel, the Torah places it in the category of the unclean birds. And this, says Rabbi Sorotzkin, should serve as an important lesson to those Jews who choose to reside in the Diaspora and shower Israel with criticism and reproach. Like the vulture, says Rabbi Sorotzkin, such Jews ?stand in Babylonia and see carrion in the Land of Israel?, meaning that they live in the Diaspora and see only that which is negative in Israel. Rather than moving to Israel and changing it for the better, he says, they prefer to cast aspersions from afar, akin to the impure vulture. Indeed, it is very easy for Israel?s critics to point the finger at the Jewish State from the safety and security of their living rooms, where they need not worry about mortar shells or bus bombings. They do not have to live with the dangers, and they need not fear the consequences. It would be best for Israel to simply ignore such prattle, and not allow it to influence the decision-making process. The primary responsibility of government is not to get good headlines abroad, but to ensure the safety and well-being of its citizens. Nothing can be more vital than that, even if those living far away are incapable of seeing it.
At the end of the previous Parsha, Aaron the High Priest and his sons were told to spend seven days at the Tent of Meeting in preparation for the official inauguration of the Tabernacle. This week?s Parsha opens by describing the priestly service of ?the eighth day?, the day upon which the Tabernacle was officially dedicated and the priests assumed their formal role in the service of G-d.
The question: Why does the Torah refer to the day upon which the Tabernacle was consecrated as ?the eighth day?? Shouldn?t it be called ?the first day??
The answer: In his book Kol Dodi on the Torah, Rabbi David Feinstein, Rosh Yeshiva of Mesivta Tifereth Jerusalem, says that the Torah wishes to teach us that the preparations one makes for doing a mitzvah are nearly as important as the performance of the mitzvah itself. By referring to the day upon which the Tabernacle was inaugurated as ?the eighth day?, the Torah is indicating that the preceding seven days of preparation and practice were also significant. Rabbi Feinstein writes, ?The seven days which preceded the consecration, even though they were not the ultimate raison d?etre of the Mishkan [Tabernacle], had an importance nearly equal to that of the days that followed.? Were it not for the preparation, it would be impossible to do the mitzvah in an appropriate manner.
The lesson: Sadly, it has become common in some circles to downplay the significance of physically building the Land of Israel, arguing that such toil is not a priority because the purpose of being here is entirely spiritual. ?Leave something for the Messiah to do,? people joke, asserting that we should devote our efforts completely to spiritual matters. Such a perspective, however, fails to appreciate the point made above, namely that even the preparatory work for a mitzvah, as mundane as it might seem, can constitute a spiritual act. Going to a forest and chopping wood can be a sacred act, if it is done for use in building a Sukkah. Similarly, building Israel physically prepares the country to better fill its intended spiritual role in the world. The preparations we make now, by strengthening and expanding the State, are an integral part of the process of national redemption. Settling the land, building homes, paving roads ? all are seemingly mundane acts, but they carry within them sparks of holiness. It may be hard to conceive of the Public Works Department, or the National Water Authority, as forces for spiritual development. But even if those who do such work may not always be aware of it, they are laying the groundwork for Israel?s final redemption, and that is something that no one has the right to belittle.
2. Communal Mourning
The Parsha relates that on the day of the inauguration of the Tabernacle, at the height of the festive celebrations, two of Aaron?s sons (Nadav and Avihu) brought ?an alien fire? (Chap. 10, verse 1) into the Sanctuary and tragically died when a fire issued from G-d and consumed them. The Torah tells us that upon hearing the dreadful news, Aaron remained silent (Chap. 10, verse 3). After the bodies of Nadav and Avihu were removed from the scene, Moshe comforts Aaron that ?your brethren the entire House of Israel will weep over the fire that G-d ignited? (Chap. 10, verse 6).
The question: If Aaron remained silent in the face of the tragedy, why did all of Israel weep for his loss?
The answer: Rabbi Yosef Shaul Natanson, Rabbi of Lvov, answers by saying that the deaths of Nadav and Avihu were Aaron?s personal tragedy, and a Jew is supposed to accept whatever befalls him in life with love and faith in G-d. Hence, Aaron?s heroic silence in the face of the horrible news is praised by the Sages, who tell us in the Talmud in Tractate Zevahim (115b) that Aaron ?remained silent and was rewarded?. But for the rest of the Jewish people, the deaths of Nadav and Avihu constituted the tragedy of a fellow Jew and, says Rabbi Natanson, one is forbidden to accept another person?s sufferings with silence. Rather, one must participate in his fellow Jew?s mourning. This, says Rabbi Natanson, is why Aaron remained silent but all of Israel wept.
The lesson: This week, Israel marked Yom HaShoah, the day that commemorates the six million Jews murdered by the Germans and their collaborators during the Holocaust. Next week is Yom HaZikaron, when the country unites in memory of those who gave their lives defending Israel on the battlefield. Sirens sound across the country, and all activity comes to a halt as people rise and stand silently, recalling the heroism and sacrifice of others. Unfortunately, there are those who openly disdain such ceremonies, brazenly ignoring the sirens without regard for the pain and anguish this causes others. They continue about their business, breaking the ranks of unity as the nation mourns it fallen. Whatever justification they may offer for their actions, such people ignore the two-fold lesson to be learned from Aaron?s tragedy. First, standing in silent contemplation in memory of the fallen has a precedent in Jewish history, as Aaron himself demonstrated. Indeed, what could be more meaningful than to take a moment of silent reflection, to recall those who were killed and to better appreciate what it was they fought and died for. While in Aaron?s case, it was only he who stood silent, as the rest of the nation wept, the practice in Israel today is for everyone to stand silently during the siren. That is how the community mourns, as a community, and to refrain from participating is to show disdain for the collective?s grief. Second, as we saw above, another Jew?s loss is everybody?s loss. When tragedy strikes and a precious young Jew is killed on the battlefield, it is not only a private calamity for the family involved ? it is also a national catastrophe, one that demands that we all take part in the suffering of the family, the collective Jewish family. How sad that there are those who fail to appreciate this simple, basic truth.
3. Bird-Brain Critics
The Torah delineates the laws of Kashrut (keeping Kosher), listing which animals and fish may and may not be eaten. The Torah then lists which birds are forbidden for consumption, one of which is called ?Da?ah?, better known as a vulture (Chap. 11, verse 14).
The question: In Deuteronomy (Chap. 14, verse 13), the ?Da?ah? is referred to as ?Ra?ah?. Why?
The answer: The Talmud in Tractate Chullin (63b) says that the vulture is called ?Ra?ah? because of its keen sense of vision, which allows it to see great distances (the Hebrew word ?Ra?ah? means ?it saw?). The Talmud describes the vulture as follows: ?it stands in Babylonia and sees carrion in the Land of Israel.? Hence, it is referred to in Deuteronomy as ?Ra?ah?.
The lesson: As the Palestinians intensify their violent attacks against Israel, the Jewish state has been forced to respond with increasingly firm measures. The mortar shells fired by Palestinians this week at the Israeli city of Sderot prompted the Israeli Army to briefly enter Palestinian-controlled territory in northern Gaza. Even though Israel?s measures have been purely defensive in nature, critics abroad have raised their voices in protest, harshly attacking Israel for having the nerve to try to protect its citizens. Sadly, some of the loudest and harshest of the critics have been Jews. This brings to mind the comments of Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, in his book Oznaim LaTorah, on the section of Talmud cited above about the vulture and its vision. Rabbi Sorotzkin points out that it is a great talent to see things from a distance, but since the vulture uses this talent to see ?carrion? (i.e. something negative or derogatory) in the Land of Israel, the Torah places it in the category of the unclean birds. And this, says Rabbi Sorotzkin, should serve as an important lesson to those Jews who choose to reside in the Diaspora and shower Israel with criticism and reproach. Like the vulture, says Rabbi Sorotzkin, such Jews ?stand in Babylonia and see carrion in the Land of Israel?, meaning that they live in the Diaspora and see only that which is negative in Israel. Rather than moving to Israel and changing it for the better, he says, they prefer to cast aspersions from afar, akin to the impure vulture. Indeed, it is very easy for Israel?s critics to point the finger at the Jewish State from the safety and security of their living rooms, where they need not worry about mortar shells or bus bombings. They do not have to live with the dangers, and they need not fear the consequences. It would be best for Israel to simply ignore such prattle, and not allow it to influence the decision-making process. The primary responsibility of government is not to get good headlines abroad, but to ensure the safety and well-being of its citizens. Nothing can be more vital than that, even if those living far away are incapable of seeing it.
