The Profound Word

Parashat Tzav 5770 Shabbat Hagadol

The Profound Word
Howard S. Joseph
http://TheProfoundWord.com

JOSEPH AND THE FOUR CUPS OF WINE

Why do we drink the four cups of wine at the Pessah Seder? The usual explanation focuses on the four expressions of redemption found in God’s promise to Moses after the “cool” treatment he initially receives from both Pharaoh and the Israelites. In an attempt to reassure and encourage Moses, God says: ‘ve-hotzeiti’ – I will remove you from the burdens of Egypt; ‘ve-hitzalti’ – I will save you from their bondage; ‘ve-ga’alti’ – I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and great judgments; and ‘ve-lakahti’ – I will take you to be my people and I will be your God. Thus, the four cups represent these four redemptive, comforting expressions.

This interpretation is attributed in the Talmud to one of the early Rabbis. However, many other views and alternate explanations are included within this same Talmudic discussion, while others are mentioned in different Midrashim as well as various other Rabbinic texts. I would like to focus on one of the other interpretations cited.

According to R. Yehoshua ben Levi – in some texts it is R. Shemuel ben Nahman – the four cups of wine are related to the four times that the word ‘cup’ is mentioned by Pharaoh’s jailed butler as he recounts his dream to Joseph in the common prison they share. Although it is interesting that the word appears four times, we certainly may wonder what this has to do with the Exodus from Egypt which we celebrate at the Seder?! What relevance do the troubles of Pharaoh’s butler have for us, especially on our night of freedom?!

Of course, it is this dream that foreshadows the butler’s release from prison and return to service as a trusted member of Pharaoh’s court. In that sense, it is an example of liberation. Joseph’s clarification of the dream also leads to his own release from prison: it is this same butler who recalls the unfortunate ‘Hebrew lad’ who helped him when later Pharaoh is plagued by his recurring dreams. Joseph is summoned from prison and soon emerges as second only to Pharaoh himself in the leadership of Egypt.

We have established that these four cups in the butler’s dream are related to Joseph’s rise to freedom and power. Still, what do they have to do with Pessah and the Exodus?

Our ancestors who lived through the period of slavery in Egypt were certainly aware of their predicament: they knew they were slaves as they suffered through the oppression. To them, Egypt was a house of bondage, and they left it with great relief.

However, we may wonder what Joseph’s personal attitude was towards Egypt. Joseph lived in the pre-bondage period and rose to be second in command. He rescued the Egyptian economy during seven years of drought, enriched the Crown and fed the populace, winning honor and glory for himself. By all accounts, Joseph “made it” in Egypt. There was no place higher to go for him except the seat of Pharaoh himself, which was certainly beyond the reach of a foreign “Hebrew lad”. How then did Joseph view Egypt, based on the position of power and leadership he had reached?

A survey of Joseph’s career reveals an interesting trajectory. Initially, he seems totally absorbed in the realm of his responsibility and office. He names his first son Menashe, meaning, “God has made me forget completely my hardship and my parental home.” Gone are the troubles of his youth, the fights with his brothers, the sibling rivalries caused by his dreams of glory. Gone, too, are the dreams of Abraham and the special covenant established by God with the family. Joseph is an Egyptian, with an Egyptian name, wife and family. He sits among the mighty in one of the mightiest nations of the ancient world.

However, the name he chooses for his second son is Ephraim, meaning, “God has made me fertile in the land of my affliction.” Why is Egypt the land of his affliction? Does it refer to his earlier servitude and imprisonment, or has his view of Egypt begun to change? Is Joseph really a free man or is he beginning to feel some sense of bondage in this foreign land in which his star has risen?

Although there is some ambiguity here, the smoke begins to clear as his life-story develops. When his brothers arrive to purchase grain, intrigue sets in. Did he act harshly with them in order to remain beyond potential suspicion concerning his own Hebrew origins? Was he worried about accusations of disloyalty if he gave them special treatment? How did he regard Egyptian treatment of Hebrews, specifically the prohibition of Egyptians to eat with Hebrews?

That Joseph is back on track is confirmed by God to Jacob as he prepares to descend to Egypt.

Gen 46:3-4 “I am God, the God of your father,” he said. “Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you into a great nation there. I will go down to Egypt with you, and I will surely bring you back again, and Joseph will place his hand on your eyes.”

How is God reassuring Jacob? What is the message? So what if ‘Joseph will place his hand on your eyes?’

Of course, the word for ‘eyes’ is here ‘ein’ in the plural: ‘einekhah.’ Neziv cites the comment of Abraham Ibn Ezra that this refers to Jacob’s death: Joseph will close his eyes for him. But how does that comfort Jacob’s anxiety about the future of the nation?

Neziv, therefore, follows the earlier commentators Rashbam and Seforno in understanding the ‘hand’ as Joseph’s power and ability as symbolized by his hand. Then he adds:

This is a wondrous promise concerning the essential survival of the nation in Egypt. The meaning of ‘einekhah’ [your eyes] are the hopes and unique vision that Jacob sought. This is explained in Deuteronomy as ‘Israel shall dwell in safety and alone, [according to] the vision of Jacob….’ The meaning of safety is to be at peace and with love among others as was Jacob’s supreme value…. ‘Alone’ means not to integrate more than necessary with the nations of the world…. In Egypt the vision of Jacob was only guarded through Joseph. That is, the safety came through Joseph’s commitment to kindness and great love…. Aloneness came through Joseph’s clearing of Goshen for them….

Jacob was returning to the Joseph of his dreams, to the son who shared his dreams and now had the power, position and the ability to execute them. Yes, his spirit was indeed revived. After a long, hard and bitter life,? as he later explains to Pharaoh,? Jacob may find fulfillment of his deepest aspirations and lifelong search.

When Jacob dies, Joseph accompanies the body back to Israel for burial. Pharaoh sends a detachment of royal guards with him. Why: to protect him? Or to ensure Joseph’s return to Egypt?

And when Joseph is on his deathbed, he makes a shocking request of his brothers: when God brings you out of this land, you will carry my bones from here with you. This request was duly fulfilled by Moses himself as our ancestors departed. Why? What did Joseph know? All was peaceful and prosperous in Egypt for his family! What did he see differently from his royal perspective? Why would God have to take them out of Egypt, a land in which they were now living in comfort and security?

The answer is clear: Joseph realized that he too was a slave. Despite the trappings of wealth and power, ultimately this was not his land. The more he rose in prominence, the more pronounced his sense of alienation. The very prominence, position and power made him more of a slave: the “trappings” were actually a “trap.”

While the rest of the family lived in security and tranquility, Joseph again had a vision of the future. The Bible does not record the brothers’ reaction to his request for transfer of his remains to Israel. They had never really understood his demands and visions. Was this another crazy dream? “Why should we ever want to leave this land that has welcomed us and in which we are prospering?” Or, had they learned by now to respect Joseph’s uncanny insight, causing them to wonder about their prospects for the future? A few sentences later the Bible begins the description of the bondage. Joseph knew something.

So what is the connection between Joseph’s four cups and the four cups of the seder? R. Yehoshua ben Levi is reminding us that Pessah is not just for the poor and the oppressed; Pessah is for the Josephs of our people too. While appearances may seem benign, Jews must always be watchful.

How well do we all know this? We have all come from lands in which our communities lived for centuries. While there were periodic disturbances in these lands, we thought of ourselves as relatively secure. We had friends and even compatriots in high places, close to the king or government officials. Yet, our position proved tenuous. Change came quickly. Our friends disappeared; our compatriots were dismissed. Who would have thought that communities that were thousands of years old would so quickly be dislodged and disappear? Today only a few Jews remain in the great Jewish communities that existed not so long ago.

Today we live in a different sort of land. In principle, we are not guests but citizens. This land belongs to us as much as to any others. However, there are always some persons who would like us to think of ourselves as guests – unwelcome guests at that. From time to time we hear from these people who poke their heads out of their holes long enough to remind us that we are not welcome.

I do not wish to suggest that Western countries are beginning to turn against us. But let us examine the question from another angle. How did Joseph feel about all of his accomplishments? He had reached the pinnacle of power and contributed mightily to the well-being of the country. Ultimately, however, whatever he produced was not really his; it was Egypt’s might and glory that was expanded. Joseph secured temporary safety for his family and temporary fame for himself in Egypt. But soon after there ‘arose a new king who not know Joseph.’ Soon after that there was nothing for him nor his people. Egypt moved on to a new chapter of its own history. Joseph turned out to be a temporary side-show not even remembered in Egyptian records.

Even without the threat of physical violence, Jews must always ask about our real place in this world. A place not only where we can be secure but wherein our creative accomplishments can be our own and not stripped away from us so easily; wherein we are not guests but fully at home in a society for which we are responsible. Thank God, we today have a place such as this. The great gift of Providence to our generation is the State of Israel where millions of our people live today. True enough, they are periodically threatened by violence and hostility. But we constantly witness their tremendous courage and their intense devotion to the land. This attachment comes from a sense of being fully at home and standing firm to protect that home when it is under attack. People in exile are ready to move from one place to another, for one exile is as good as another; people at home stand up and defend their homes and do not readily let anyone push them out.

We are really living in miraculous times and most of those miracles point to Israel: the founding of the State, the in-gathering of exiled communities that continues with great intensity, and survival despite numerous attempts to destroy the State. The question we must ask ourselves is whether these miracles point us towards Israel. Do we appreciate the gift we have received? Are we caring and supportive of its many needs, which sometimes seem overwhelming? Do we visit often enough to drink in the spirit of freedom and redemption that prevails there? Do we send our children to study and be inspired as they see the pages of our history come alive?

Where, indeed, is our place and the place for our children? Where can we really build a special Jewish life for ourselves, our children and our people? Where can we avoid the problem of assimilation which decimates our people even when we are free from physical attacks? We are building a good community here but we know the answer. R. Yehoshua ben Levi suggested it to us a long time ago.

When we drink the four cups of wine, we remember not only the slaves who were freed from their bondage and oppression, but also Joseph who, in his own way, was also a slave to Pharaoh in Egypt. He too was freed by Moses when his bones were taken out during the Exodus. He finally was placed to rest in the homeland he knew was the only homeland that the people of Israel ever had or ever will have.

LE-SHANA HABA’A BI-YERUSHALAYIM. May we all celebrate next year in Jerusalem.

Shabbat Shalom, Hag Sameah

Hayyim Shemuel Yosef

Nisan 12, 5770

March 27, 2010

A weekly parashah essay based on the writings of Rabbi Naphtali Zvi Yehudah Berlin, the Neziv, in Ha’amek Davar [HD] and Harhev Davar [HRD]. Please feel free to distribute this material for educational purposes. All rights reserved.

Parashat Vayikrah 5770

The Profound Word

Howard S. Joseph

http://TheProfoundWord.com

Home, Pleasant Home

Neziv had advised us in his introduction to the Book of Shemot that the second book of the Torah was indeed a second Book of Creation. It involved the creation of a new entity  in the world, the People of Israel in Covenant with God. This marriage-like entity is going to have a critical role in the maintaining the creation and preventing the creation from returning to chaos.

After the ‘marriage’, a home is planned wherein the parties can relate to each other in numerous ways. While some early troubles arise, these are resolved and the parties continue on their way together. Initially the bride, Israel, had been overwhelmed by the groom and felt compelled to join this covenant. The resolution of the conflict included a more open and creative role for Israel. Israel will not be overwhelmed by God again and will retain her independence, integrity and identity in the future so that a wholesome relationship will prevail.

So, the covenant is about love and the Holy Place of the Covenant is to reflect that love. The Mishkan is a place to act out that love in numerous ways. It is the family home. It enables both parties to interact with each other in ways that will strengthen their bond.

The creation is complete with the construction and erection of the Mishkan. Indeed, Exodus ends with language reminiscent of the beginning of Genesis. The word ‘melakhah’ appears in both stories. Moses reviews all the work and pronounces it good as God reviewed the six days of creation and pronounced them very good. Neziv’s points that the instructions for the Mishkan reflect the creation of the world and that this is necessary for God to dwell among the people are supported by this common language. As the book ends, the creation story is complete.

In Neziv’s introduction to Leviticus, he is mostly concerned about the halakhic nature of the book and the halakhic literature generated by its legal focus. However, I would like to leave this aside for a while and carry through the lessons of Exodus, applying them to the opening materials of Vayikrah.

We must try to understand the activities described here in the context of the love relationship that has been established. The Sanctuary is a place of love and the primary experience in that place should reflect some dimension of love.

This is apparent from the first word of the book: vayikrah. Normally, the Torah just tells us that God addressed Moses and asked him to transmit commands to the people. But here there is an introduction:

He [God] called to Moses, and the Lord spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying….

God called to Moses before charging him with a specific task. The commentaries in Talmud and Midrash Rabbah see this ‘calling’ as lashon hibbah, an expression of love and affection:

But [what took place] in the Tent of Meeting [may be compared to the case of a king] who is pleased with his children, and with whom the members of his household are pleased; when giving instructions regarding them to the messenger he does so within [the royal residence], like a man who takes [his child] on his lap, or like one whose hand is [affectionately laid] on his son. Therefore it says, HE CALLED UNTO MOSES.

Rashi amplifies:

Every [time God communicated with Moses, whether it was represented by the expression] ‘He spoke,” or “He said,” or “He commanded,” it was always preceded by [God] calling [to Moses by name] (Torath Kohanim 1:2-3). Keriah is an expression of affection, the [same] expression employed by the ministering angels [when addressing each other], as it says, “And one called to the other…” (Isa. 6:3)

From another Midrashic text, Neziv suggests that it is possible that after the first calling to Moses by name from the special Tent of Meeting [which included the Mishkan] Moses was able to enter the Tent at anytime he wished even at night when God never spoke to him for “Oral Torah purposes”, that is, to study. Moses entered freely to study. Out of love God allowed Moses to use the Tent as a Bet Midrash, his own personal study hall for the purpose of developing the Oral Torah which is the special loving gift  to Israel as a participant in the process of understanding, interpreting and applying the commands to every day life throughout the ages.

We can also add the following. Looking at the Hebrew Torah text it is strikingly obvious that the word Vayikrah is written with a shortened last letter. This renders the word ‘called’ into another word altogether. Some render it as vayikar meaning coincidental. They suggest that this is to contrast purposeful revelations to Moses with revelations by God to heathen prophets such as Balaam.

Another possibility might be to highlight the affection shown to Moses. Reading vayakar we have a different meaning for yakar suggests dear and precious. So the shortened letter can indicate that God wished to endear Himself to Moses and Moses to Him and through Moses to the people. Moses was always welcome into the Tent of Meeting.

What activities prevail in the Mishkan? The Torah mentions the word korban which is often translated as a sacrifice. This word derives from the term ‘to bring close’. In this section we find a variety of different forms of this word. We are to think of a korban as something we bring: an offering, a gift. Through it we ourselves are brought closer as well.

What is the role and purpose of these gifts brought to the Mishkan?

In the daily life of a couple one tries to achieve a sense of closeness and intimacy. Sometimes every day responsibilities can get in the way and we miss the opportunity of that intimacy.

Or we might feel we failed in some way to please our partner. We might wish to seek another opportunity to rise up to that closeness once again. For the intimacy leads us to a greater knowledge of the other. Knowing each other and trying to understand each other are the warp and woof of the relationship.

There are also times when we actually might wrong each other unintentionally. These too cause hurt and a sense of failure and, hence, a sense of alienation that must be overcome. Forgiveness and reconciliation are necessary.

Or, there are simply times we wish to celebrate together special family moments, anniversaries of special occasions and the like.

With these illustrations from human family experience we can understand some of the korban experiences in the Mishkan.

The first offering is called an Olah. Some translations call it a ‘burnt offering’ possibly because it is almost completely burnt on the altar. But Olah probably derives from the term to rise up, to elevate. In the Olah gift we see the attempt to rise up in our relationship with God and to express our most intense devotion. We too are almost completely given over to the commitment to the relationship with God. [It is quite possible that the Olah is not completely burned as a reflection of the sense of not being completely overwhelmed by God as we saw a few weeks ago.]

As Rashi explains the Olah is prompted by a missed opportunity:

...it is accepted only for [failure to perform] a positive commandment.

A positive commandment is an occasion to come into close contact with God. It is an act that stems from love and promotes love. If one missed the opportunity the Olah can be a replacement exercise

Let us now see how Neziv understands this:

The purpose of bringing an Olah is to prepare oneself to seek knowledge of God….

He elaborates in his comments on verses 3-4:

…He shall bring it willingly to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, before the Lord. And he shall lean his hand [forcefully] upon the head of the burnt offering, and it will be accepted for him to atone for him.

Neziv explains:

[The process of bringing an offering involves] first setting aside the item then bringing it and then [in the case of an animal offering] sprinkling the blood…. This teaches us that the person must exert personal effort in all these steps until the gift arrives at the entrance of the Meeting Tent and should not give it to a messenger or servant [to bring].

Willingly: this means that [he is trying to] favorably arouse God’s will towards himself.

And he shall lean his hand [forcefully] upon the head: It is known that this must be done with both hands…. Why then is his the singular [hand] written?…. It seems that it comes to teach us that we must use our entire power [i. e., forcefully].

[We should remember that in the Jacob and Joseph story the word hand is seen as power as well in that Joseph will use his power to help achieve Jacob's vision.]

So, the gift bears our power, our strength that we wish to dedicate completely to seeking closeness to God. The leaning expresses the intensity of the devotee. It is this sincere and intense devotion that can arouse God’s acceptance.

The forceful leaning helps to achieve that God will accept him…. The atonement [or, reconciliation] comes after some misdeed between humans and God which causes a loss of potential to achieve intimacy with God and prevents effective prayer as well…. The essence of God’s desire for our gift is that we seek God’s intimate presence and not the wish for the body of the Olah.

An opportunity was missed. A sense of alienation followed. Now reconciliation is achieved. Love is raised and elevated to a new plane. The Sanctuary has fulfilled its purpose.

We have looked at only one of there gifts brought to the Sanctuary. We can understand the others too in this family medium and may return to them in the future. What we have seen is that Leviticus opens with the Sanctuary as the embodiment of love and affection. This is its message and mandate: promote affection between God and Israel.

We live in a profoundly different age than when this type of Avodah began. While the Mishkan is no more and the Temple of Jerusalem is gone as well, we are left with the Synagogue which the Sages called mikdash me’at, a little sanctuary, a pale reflection of the original, but yet also an institution that must embody and promote love and affection.  Gifts and offering still play a role in our family and religious life. It will probably always be that way. As we move through the book we hope to see how this process continues to unfold.

Shabbat Shalom

Hayyim Shemuel Yosef

Nisan 5 5770

March 20, 2010

A weekly parashah essay based on the writings of Rabbi Naphtali Zvi Yehudah Berlin, the Neziv, in Ha’amek Davar [HD] and Harhev Davar [HRD]. Please feel free to distribute this material for educational purposes. All rights reserved.

Parashat Ki Tissah 5770
The Profound Word
Howard S. Joseph
http://TheProfoundWord.com

Overwhelming Love: Fidelity, Infidelity and Renewal

In memory of my father, William Joseph [Ze'ev ben Zvi, z'l] who passed to his world on Adar 23.

The wedding ceremony is over. The plans for the couple’s new home and furnishings are prepared. Everything seems in order to produce a life of bliss. Then they begin to fall apart.

What happens?

The bride is certainly stiff-necked. This can be an admirable quality and certainly a factor in surviving hundreds of years of slavery.

Or, steeped in the idolatrous society of Egypt we should not be surprised that she easily stumbles into worship of the Golden Calf. The first of the Ten Commandments is broken and the tablets themselves shattered. What could trigger such a failure of this magnitude after Sinai seemed so certain. Where was the weakness?

The potential for failure is readily apparent in the description of the wedding itself. There we read of the terms expected by the groom. The bride says: we will do and we will obey, nothing more, nothing less. We do not hear from her what conditions she expects, what dreams she wants to fulfill, what aspirations he can help her achieve. At a wedding we celebrate “the voice of the groom, the voice of the bride.” At Sinai, we do not hear the voice of the bride. She is overwhelmed by the groom; her participation minimal. This is a recipe for failure.

In fact, rabbinic tradition sees this weakness from the very beginning. Actually, the whole foundation of the Sinai Covenant is questioned because overwhelming force was used by God to assure acceptance. In Tractate Shabbat [88a] we find:

They stood beneath the mountain (Sinai) (Ex. 19:17). Rav Abdimi ben Hama ben Hasa commented: This teaches that the Blessed Holy One lifted the mountain over their heads like a tub and said: if you accept the Torah, fine; if not, you will be buried here. Said Rav Aha ben Jacob: this is a strong protest about the (validity of the) Torah (i. e., because it was forced upon us we really are not ultimately responsible to obey it.)

Being overwhelmed we lost our free will. It was impossible to resist. Later on, during calmer moments of reflection, we might come to regret our enthusiastic response of “we will do and we will obey”. It seemed so right and wonderful at the moment but now we are not so sure.

That is because there are two types of wonders and miracles. Miracles can appear in highly visible and obvious forms. They are overwhelmingly convincing to the witnesses and leave no doubt about their presence. “What a handmaiden saw at the splitting of the Sea even the Prophet Ezekiel did not see.” This redemptive event was so convincing that anyone, even a non‑prophet, could see the hand of God operating in human affairs. Tradition calls this a ‘nes nigleh,’ a revealed or open miracle or sign.

However, there is also what is known as ‘nes nistar,’ hidden signs or wonders, mysteriously embedded in what appears to be a pattern of ordinary events. The protagonists seem to be acting from everyday impulses of greed, fear, jealousy or altruism. Yet, when all is said and done, and a redemptive ending results from an initial potentially disastrous set of circumstances, it is apparent that hidden behind the events was the Source of redemption, the Protector and Redeemer of Israel. Neziv suggests Purim as a primary example.

What was the coercion at Sinai? What is the tub uplifted above their heads? It is probably none other than the ‘nes nigleh‘ itself, the overpowering and compelling signs and wonders visible at the time, coming as they did at the end of the series of wonders they experienced prior to and during the Exodus. Fire and smoke, thunder and lightning, the voice of God: who could resist? Our freedom had been neutralized, rendered inoperative. This extraordinary event was irresistible but as an extraordinary event it was ultimately flawed. It may have been necessary to quickly stimulate fidelity. But it was insufficient to promote long term commitment. It did not prevent the deterioration into idolatry at the moment of disappointment in Moses’ tardy descent from the mountain. The Golden Calf was the result. Sinai was imperfect for what relevance could it have to everyday living wherein we must use our freedom to judge the quality of events and determine our response to them, to recognize holiness in the course of human affairs and everyday phenomena.

So, the fault and failure of Sinai, the strong protest over the validity of the acceptance of the Torah is none other than the overwhelming love and power shown to Israel at that moment. God appeared to them as a wise elder, providing loving guidance. It was difficult to refuse. A covenant, a marriage must be freely entered, freely engaged. Otherwise, it is doomed.

Neziv is very sensitive to this dynamic. When Moses is instructed by God to carve out new tablets and ascend the mountain so God can re-write the commandments, he is told:

The Lord said to Moses: Hew for yourself two stone tablets like the first ones. And I will inscribe upon the tablets the words that were on the first tablets, which you broke. [34:1]

The question arises as to the status of the second tablets. The first set seemed to be totally prepared by God, both hewn and written. Here it is Moses who must hew and prepare the stones. God will then do the writing. The strange expression is the last phrase: which you broke. We know this already. Why are we reminded that Moses broke the tablets? Is it a criticism or is it a compliment? Let’s see how Neziv handles this.

We must begin with the words of Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra [in his commentary] quoting a Gaon, z’l [one of the supreme Jewish religious leaders of medieval Babylon] who says that the second tablets were more honored than the first. Ibn Ezra wrote about this comment that they are like words of fantasy. However, I think that the Gaon’s words are not at all empty of meaning. In [Midrash] Hazit there is a comment on the verse from Song of Songs: . His left hand was under my head, and his right hand would embrace me. It is explained as: His left hand was under my head, this refers to the first tablets; his right hand would embrace me, this refers to the second tablets. [The right hand is usually considered to be more important or honored than the left-hsj]

In Midrash Rabbah [Ex 47:7] we are told: It is written, It is good for me that I have been afflicted, in order that I might learn Thy statutes (Ps. 119:7). [This means that] It was for the benefit of Moses that he fasted a hundred and twenty days, so that he might receive the Torah…. Whereupon God said: You are distressed! Well, I assure you that you will not lose anything; for on the first tablets were only the Decalogue, but since you have now suffered so much, I will give you also Halakhot, Midrash, and Haggadoth….’

Neziv now explains the difference between the two sets of tablets.

The meaning of this is that in the first tablets there was not given the power of innovative interpretation, but only what Moses received [from God] as the precise interpretation of the verses and the halakhot that derive from them. However, there was no process of innovation using the thirteen principles of Talmudic reasoning as was later done in the Talmudic discussions. There was no Oral Torah except that which was delivered by Moses or that which was learned from analogy.

However, with the second tablets to every conscientious scholar was given the power to innovate halakhic matters through the thirteen principles and Talmudic processes.

At first, only Moses and his family were involved in this. However, in the Plains of Moab [at the end of the desert wanderings-hsj] Moses encouraged all Israel to engage in this process as well.

The incident of the Golden Calf was the cause of all this change….

For this very reason God commanded that the second tablets should be hewn by Moses. It was not because Israel did not merit to have tablets hewn by God but rather to show that the power of innovative halakhic thinking in these second tablets is the partnership of human effort and Heavenly assistance [siyatah dishemayah]. This is similar to the second tablets themselves that were a combination of Moses’ effort and God’s writing. Even here we see later on [verse 27] that Moses did some of the writing as well….

This is what our Sages meant when they said that whatever a conscientious scholar will innovate through serious Torah study was actually in the second tablets.

This is what the Gaon meant to teach us: in this particular point the second tablets were more honored than the first. However, the holiness of the first tablets was greater. If they had not been destroyed it would have been easier to reach the necessary teachings through reasoning and analogy. However, since we deteriorated [through the Golden Calf] and now we need to struggle to sharpen the ‘sword of Torah’, the second tablets are more suited for this.

A similar distinction between holy and honorable exists between the two Talmuds. The Jerusalem Talmud is holier than the Babylonian because it reflects the views of the earlier Amoraic sages….Also, the holiness of the Land of Israel helped as well. However, we know that the power of the Babylonian Talmud was more honored…. for it had the wondrous power to enlighten even the dark places such as Babylon and other Diaspora communities. Without this we would not have achieved the light of learning in these places. This is similar to the difference between the first and second tablets.

Similarly, this seems to be the meaning of the statement in Tractate Menahot [89a,b]: Resh Lakish said: There are times when abolishing the Torah may be the foundation of the Torah, for it is written, ‘Which you broke’: The Blessed Holy One said to Moses, you did well to break them’!

Accordingly, abolishing the Torah, that is, the breaking of the tablets, is itself its foundation. Because of it the second tablets were given in a different way based on the foundation of innovation and effort. That is why God congratulates Moses for breaking the tablets so that the second tablets could be given in a different manner

Wow! The Torah itself teaches us that the idyllic Sinai scene was faulty. The covenant was not realistic nor sustainable. It had to be broken in order to be rebuilt on a new foundation. Israel had to be an active participant in its own destiny. Israel had to be allowed the creativity to compensate for its own weaknesses and the wide variety of circumstances it would face in various historical moments. This could only be accomplished as partners with God. The new covenant includes an invitation to Israel to be studious, creative and innovative. It is, therefore, an open covenant that will grow over the centuries as the pages of Talmud and subsequent commentaries, responsa and codes are written. Israel, the proud, independent minded and compassionate bride must and will be an active partner in this marriage.

The first tablets were as rigid and frightful as the overwhelming scene on and ‘below’ the mountain. They represent the Written Torah. However, it is the Oral Torah that enables Israel to be a dominant force in its own destiny. No heavenly voices could interfere. It is in our hands and with God’s blessing we will prevail. These are Neziv’s profound words for this week.

Overwhelming love just as any other overwhelming force is a danger to human freedom and dignity. Remember Jacob’s fear of Esau. Think of the story of the spies in the desert. They returned saying that: we were like grasshoppers in their eyes and in our own eyes as well. Think as well of highly charismatic leaders and teachers who use their popularity for destructive purposes. Losing yourself and your self confidence as well as the ability to clearly think lead to incorrect assessments of reality and improper decisions.

We were warned in the psalms: do not trust in princes, in a human being who can not offer salvation. [146:3] Yet we often give too much trust to others and repeat this mistake endlessly. Is it because life and especially modern life presents us with so many choices, and, as Kierkegaard pointed out, we often see ourselves drowning in a sea of possibilities? We surrender our choice to others as we are overwhelmed by them.

Moses, congratulations, for you broke the tablets. Yes, you saved Israel from being overwhelmed by a loving and irresistible God who showered us with miracles, wonders and wise guidance. It was very attractive, hard to say no, and we said a resounding yes. Some distance and some freedom even from God keeps us human and, therefore, a much more viable partner for God. Maintaining ourselves in the image of our free and creative God makes us more worthy for our loving and beloved God. That is why God congratulated Moses.

Finally, we return to the Talmudic discussion with which we began [Shabbat 88a]. It continues:

(Do not worry) Said Raba, they repeated their acceptance at Purim, as it is said: they fulfilled and accepted ‑ they now fulfilled (willingly) what they had previously accepted (under coercion)..

The second tablets provide the potential for covenant renewal. However, as we see here and in Neziv’s commentary on Purim, that potential is only actualized much later on with the holiday of Purim. The first Temple period is one of rampant idolatry. With the emergence of the strength of the Sages of the Oral Torah to leadership, idolatry ceases to be a stumbling block issue. The sword of Oral Torah is sharpened. The future appears much more promising for fidelity and partnership have stabilized the covenant.

Shabbat Shalom

Hayyim Shemuel Yosef

Adar 20 5770

March 6, 2010

A weekly parashah essay based on the writings of Rabbi Naphtali Zvi Yehudah Berlin, the Neziv, in Ha’amek Davar [HD] and Harhev Davar [HRD]. Please feel free to distribute this material for educational purposes. All rights reserved.