Bamidbar - The Lesson of the Degalim

The second chapter of Parshas Bamidbar discusses the division of the Jewish population in the wilderness into four camps, each containing three tribes, surrounding the camp of the Levites,  with the Tabernacle in the center. Each of these four camps was to have a degel - banner - that symbolically represented the tribes within that camp (and, according to many sources, each tribe had its own banner as well).

The midrashim and commentaries discuss the symbolism and significance of these degalim (banners), and the division of the nation into camps, at great length. However, after all the discussion, we still need to understand what purpose there was in dividing up the nation in this manner and assigning each tribe its own symbol.

Many commentaries note that this system, with the regulated division of forces and the assignment of banners and symbols, closely resembles that of a military organization. Some understand this in the simple manner that this was intended to prepare the Jewish nation for military operations upon entering the land of Israel. Nevertheless, it seems self-evident that this was much more than simply a practical arrangement for pragmatic purposes. The midrashim clearly see in this division - "each man by his banner" - a spiritual lesson of profound significance. Indeed, the Medrash Tanchuma (Bamidbar 14) states that our future redemption will be in the merit of the banners (בזכות הדגלים אני גואל אתכם)!

It would seem that the basic message of the degalim was twofold. The first message of the degalim was to symbolize the unique status of the Jewish people as separate and distinct from all the other nations of the world. Thus, just like a military force moves and camps with banners, so that all who see them will know they exist to serve their king and nation, so too the Jewish people moved and camped with banners to declare that they exist to serve God. Thus, the most basic message of the degalim was that we must recognize that, like soldiers, we live to serve God and to obey His every command. It is this which sets us apart from all the other nations of the world. While every human being is obligated to serve God, just as every citizen is obligated to serve his king and nation, a Jew exists only to serve God, and every aspect of his life must be directed to that purpose.

By contrast, the second message of the degalim is that the fact that we all - as Jews - exist for the single purpose of serving God does not mean that we all are expected to serve God in exactly the same way. On the contrary, we see from the degalim that God not only acknowledges the diversity of the Jewish people but actually celebrates it. Every tribe had its own unique strengths and virtues that enabled it to serve God in its own unique fashion. Thus, the tribes camped separately, but were held together by the central camp of the Tabernacle, symbolizing the Torah, which must always remain our exclusive focus. (See my previous post: Noach - The Value of Diversity.)

When, as a nation, we truly internalize the lessons of the degalim, that we all must devote our lives to the service of God - each in our own way - then we will truly merit the coming of the redemption.

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Behar-Bechukosai - The Strange Lesson of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi

In Parshas Behar we read (Leviticus 25:17):

ולא תונו איש את עמיתו ויראת מאלקיך כי אני ה' אלקיכם:

“And you shall not hurt the feelings of one another, but you shall fear your God, for I am HaShem your God.” 

This is the prohibition of onaas devarim - hurting the feelings of another Jew. Torah law prohibits us from causing suffering to our fellow Jews, even just hurting their feelings through insensitive speech.

The midrash (Yalkut Shimoni here, Vayikra Raba 33:1) tells us of an interesting object lesson that the great sage, Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, used to bring this lesson home to his students:

רבי עשה סעודה לתלמידיו, הביא לפניהם לשונות רכין ולשונות קשין. התחילו בוררין את הרכין ומניחין את הקשין. א"ל, בני, כך יהא לשונכם רך אלו עם אלו!

Rabbi [Yehuda HaNasi] made a feast for his students, in which he brought before them [cooked dishes of] soft tongues and hard tongues. The students began to choose the soft tongues and setting aside the hard tongues. He said to them, "My sons! So should your tongues be soft with each other!"

It's a cute lesson. In fact, it almost seems too cute. The students of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi were not children. They were all respected scholars in their own right, who were perfectly capable of understanding such a simple concept without using such a dramatic presentation. Why did Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi choose to make his point in such a manner?

The Chofetz Chaim

Perhaps we can understand this by reference to a public letter written by the Chofetz Chaim, R' Yisrael Meir Kagan (d.1933) in which he bemoans the existence of public strife between rabbis and Torah scholars. In the course of the letter he talks about the common tendency, especially with regard to religious disputes, for each side to justify their own behavior and to place the entire blame for the dispute on the other side. However, the Chofetz Chaim writes, this a basic error, for even if, in principle, they are indeed correct in their position, it is virtually impossible for a person to engage in such strife without falling into the trap of improper behavior and, even worse, bringing about a grave chillul Hashem (desecration of the honor of God)

In this context, the Chofetz Chaim discusses the tragic deaths of the 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva, for whom we continue to mourn until this day, and he writes:

ואיתא בגמ׳ שעונם היה על שלא נהגו כבוד זה לזה. ועתה נתבונן נא, דהלא רק אונאת דברים הוא׳ והוא רק לאו בעלמא ואין חייב על זה מיתה בידי שמים, ולמה מתו? אלא שעי״ז נסבב הילול ה׳ גדול בעולם שתלמידי חכמים רבים זה עם זה ומבזים התורה ומצותיה לעין כל.

ועל זה אני אומר, מורי ורבותי, למה לא נירא מארזי הלבנון, קדושי עליון, שבודאי היה לכל אחד תירוץ בפני עצמו שאין בו אשם, ועיקר האשם על חבירו ולא עליו, ואפילו הכי אנו רואין שתורתן וקדושתן לא הגינו עליהן ושלטה מדת הדין בכולן.

The Talmud states that their sin was that they did not show proper respect for each other. Now, let us consider this. Their sin was only onaas devarim, which is an ordinary prohibition that does not bear the penalty of death by Heavenly decree. So why did they die [for this sin]? Because, when Torah scholars fight with each other it brings about a great chilul Hashem in the world, bringing public disgrace upon the Torah and its mitzvos.

And on this I say, my teachers and rabbis, how can we not be afraid [to engage in strife] when these (i.e. the students of Rabbi Akiva) Cedars of Lebanon, exalted holy men, each of whom certainly could provide a good explanation to justify their actions, and to place the blame entirely on their fellow and not on themselves, and even so, their Torah and their holiness did not protect them, and the attribute of justice was dominant over all of them.

The Chofetz Chaim is pointing out that as severe as the sin of onaas devarim is, there is an even greater obligation upon Torah scholars to avoid such behavior with each other, for such behavior causes the honor of God and His Torah to be diminished in the eyes of the world.

This was the reason for the unusual object lesson of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi was the student of the later students of Rabbi Akiva. In fact, the Talmud (Kiddushin 72b) states that he was born on the day of Rabbi Akiva's death. For the generation after Rabbi Akiva, this lesson was far from a an obvious and simple lesson. They had seen, with their own eyes, how the entire world of Torah had been laid desolate  through the deaths of these great scholars. They fully understood how easy it could be to fall into the trap of strife and discord with their fellow rabbis.

They, in turn, conveyed this message to their students; one of the most prominent of whom was Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi. Thus, for Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, this lesson was literally a matter of life and death, both for his students and for the survival of the Jewish people, for the Jewish people can only survive with the Torah. When it comes to these most basic lessons, we use every technique available to us to continually reinforce and internalize them, so that they become part of our very nature and being.

This story of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi teaches us two profoundly important lessons. On the simplest level, it teaches us of the importance of speaking gently to our fellows, especially for Torah scholars. However, it also teaches us that, when it comes to learning the most basic lessons of Torah and mussar (character development), there is no such thing as a "silly" lesson. Any technique that will help us reinforce these lessons, in ourselves and in our children and students, is valid and legitimate, even if it involves making strange analogies from food.

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Bo - Do Not Separate from the Community

Parshas Bo tells us of the final three of the ten plagues that God inflicted upon the Egyptians before the exodus of the Jewish people from Egypt. The second from last plague was the plague of darkness, in which the entire land of Egypt experienced a supernatural darkness.

In a famous medrash, the Sages tell us that in addition to functioning as a punishment for the Egyptians, the plague of darkness also served to hide an event that God did not wish the Egyptians to witness. The medrash states (Shemos Raba 14:3, also see Tanchuma, Va'era 14, and Tana D'Vei Eliyahu 7):

Why did He bring darkness upon them? Blessed be the Name of the Holy One, blessed is He, for there is no favoritism before Him, Who delves deep into the [human] mind and examines [their] thoughts: For there were sinners (פושעים, Rashi here has רשעים, "wicked people") in Israel who had patrons among the Egyptians, and they had wealth and honor there, and they did not wish to leave. God said, "If I bring a plague upon [these sinful Jews] openly and they die, the Egyptians will say, 'The same thing that is happening to us is also happening to them!'" Therefore He brought the darkness upon the Egyptians for three days, so that [the Jews] would be able to bury their dead, and their enemies would not see.

There were Jews who were comfortable in Egypt and did not want to leave. The Sages do not accuse these people of any kind of sinful behavior, whether towards God or to their fellow men. Their entire wickedness is summed up in the fact that they did not wish to leave Egypt! 

Moreover, we know that there were some genuinely wicked Jews who did leave Egypt together with their fellow Jews, the best known examples being the famous troublemakers, Dathan and Abiram. And the Jewish people as a whole were far from perfect. The Sages tell us that when God drowned the Egyptians at the Red Sea, the angels challenged the Divine Justice in drowning the Egyptians and not drowning the children of Israel, famously declaring, "הללו עובדי עבודה זרה והללו עובדי עבודה זרה" - "These are idol worshipers and those are idol worshipers!"

The implication of this medrash is that the issue was not that these particular Jews were exceptionally sinful, but rather that they were sinful in a very specific way, one which made it impossible for them to live to see the redemption of their people from Egypt. This was the simple fact that, regardless of any other virtues they may have possessed, these Jews wanted to stay in Egypt. They were quite comfortable in Egypt, and they saw no reason to leave!

As Jews, we have an obligation to see ourselves as part of a larger unit, the Jewish people, to which we are intrinsically connected. Our connection to God as individuals cannot be distinguished from our connection to the Jewish people as a whole. We can never simply go our own way, as if the fate of our fellow Jews means no more than that of any other random group of people.

One of the most famous teachings of the great Talmudic sage, Hillel, was (Avos 2:4), "אל תפרוש מן הצבור" - "Do not separate from the community." The commentaries explain that when the community is suffering, you have an obligation to bear the burden and suffer together with the community, even if the problem does not directly affect you. The Talmud (Taanis 11a) says that one who separates from the community when it is suffering will not merit to see the community's deliverance. This is precisely what happened to these Jews who did not wish to leave Egypt!

Not every sin requires actively violating an explicit prohibition. Indeed, as we see in this case, it is possible that one could be considered a sinful and wicked person even without doing a single forbidden or even improper act. Simply having the wrong mental attitude can be enough, if that improper attitude touches upon fundamental aspects of one's relationship with God and man.

This concept can also help us understand why it is that certain sins which seem to be relatively minor are sometimes given far more significance than others which would seem to be far more severe. One classic example is the case of a Jewish man sinning with a non-Jewish woman. Technically speaking, there is a debate if this is a Biblical or Rabbinical prohibition. And even if it is a Biblical prohibition, it clearly does not qualify for the severe penalty of kareis (spiritual excision) that we find by many other prohibited relationships. Yet, this is actually one of the most severe sins a Jew can commit! As the prophet Malachi said (2:11-12):

Judah has been treacherous, and an abomination has been done in Israel and in Jerusalem; for Judah has desecrated the holiness of God, which He loves, and has married the daughter of a foreign god. May God cut off (kareis) from the man that does this any living child from the tents of Jacob, and anyone that might bring forth an offering to the God of Hosts.

The prophet applies the penalty of kareis to an act that, according to many authorities, is not even a Biblical prohibition! Indeed, the Sefer Mitzvos HaGadol (R' Moses of Coucy, 13th century) writes (Lavin #112) that, in certain regards, the kareis described by the prophet is actually more severe than that of any other sexual sin. 

The Talmud (Eruvin 19a) states (in a somewhat obscure passage) that, in the afterlife, when a Jew is condemned to punishment in Gehinom, the patriarch Abraham comes and takes him out, "except for a Jew that has had relations with a non-Jewish woman, for his foreskin is pulled forward and he is not recognized" as a Jew. Here we see that a Jew who commits this, technically "minor" sin, is said to have lost his circumcision, the sign of the Jewish covenant with God!

This brings us back to our original topic. Our relationship with God cannot be separated from our relationship with the Jewish people. This is the nature of the Jewish people, we are His people, and He is our God. It is that relationship with God that makes us a nation, and it is as a nation that we have that relationship with God. When we cut ourselves off from the Jewish people, we are cutting ourselves off from God. As Jews, we have a moral and spiritual obligation, unlike that found in any other nation, to remain loyal to our people, both as individuals and as a group. We bear our burdens together, we share in the suffering of our fellows Jews, no matter where they are or how different they may seem, and, ultimately, we will all experience the joy of the final redemption together, as one people.

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Va'eira - The Hardening of Pharaoh's Heart

In Parshas Va'eira we read of the first seven of the ten plagues that God inflicted upon the Egyptians. Before the plagues, God instructed Moses to go and speak to Pharaoh, demanding that he allow the Jewish people to go free. In the course of these instructions, God tells Moses (Exodus 7:3), "ואני אקשה את לב פרעה" - "And I shall harden Pharaoh's heart" - and that Pharaoh would not listen to his pleas and God would perform many "signs and wonders" and would take the Jewish people out of Egypt "with an outstretched hand". And indeed, we find that after the sixth, eighth, ninth, and tenth plagues that "God strengthened the heart of Pharaoh", ultimately culminating in the destruction of the Egyptian army in the Red Sea.

Many commentators discuss how we are to understand the concept of God "hardening" Pharaoh's heart. if God hardened Pharaoh's heart, then how could he be held responsible for his actions? Moreover, one of the most basic principles of Judaism is the concept of free-will. Yet these passages imply that free-will is not guaranteed, and that it is possible that a person could lose his free-will.

Maimonides
Traditional Depiction

Indeed, Maimonides explains that it is possible for a truly wicked person to be punished with the loss of his free will, making it impossible for him to repent for his evil deeds. He writes (Hil. Teshuva 6:3):

It is possible that a person would commit so great a sin, or so many sins, to the point that justice demands from the True Judge that the punishment appropriate for the willful sins of this sinner is that teshuva (repentance) should be withheld from him and he should lose the ability to turn from his evil, so that he will die and be lost in the sins he has committed. ...

Therefore it says in the Torah (Exodus 14:4), "I shall strengthen the heart of Pharaoh," for Pharaoh had sinned on his own volition and was wicked towards the people of Israel that dwelt in his land.... Justice required that teshuva be withheld from him until he had been punished. God therefore hardened his heart. 

In his commentary on this verse, the Ramban also addresses this issue and provides two answers. The first answer is identical with the approach of Maimonides. In his second answer, however, the Ramban argues that the "hardening" of Pharaoh's heart does not refer to a loss of free-will, but the opposite, that God gave Pharaoh the strength of will to be able to defy God despite the incredible pressure brought about by the plagues. At no point did Pharaoh actually desire to let the Jewish people go. It was only that, after all of these plagues, he simply did not have to strength to continue fighting. Thus God strengthened the will of Pharaoh, leaving him free to make the choice that he wished to make.

This approach is also taken by the Seforno (commentary on Torah by R' Ovadia Seforno, d.1550) and the Sefer HaIkkarim (philosophical work by R' Joseph Albo, d.1444) and appears to be the dominant approach taken by most later commentators as well. Among these later commentators is the famous Dubno Maggid, R' Yakov Kranz (d.1804), in his commentary (Kochav L'Yakov on the haftara of Lech Lecha) on the verse (Isaiah 40:29), "He gives strength to the weary, and for the powerless He gives abundant might." The Dubno Maggid cites the famous medrash about Joseph in the house of Potiphar, that states that Joseph was on the verge of succumbing to the seductive ploys of his master's wife, when God sent him a vision of his father, Jacob. This vision inspired Joseph to absolutely reject the sinful advances of Potiphar's wife. The Dubno Maggid asks why the Sages revealed this fact, which would appear to reflect so poorly on Joseph, as he was on the verge of committing such a severe sin and was only prevented from doing so by a Divine vision? Moreover, doesn't this diminish the free-will of Joseph? (Indeed, the Sages view Joseph's resistance to Potiphar's wife as one his greatest acts of righteousness - "for he sanctified the Name of God in secret" (Sotah 10b). Yet how many people would commit a sin immediately after receiving a prophetic vision?)

The Dubno Maggid therefore explains that the reality was that Joseph had absolutely no desire to sin and had resisted Potiphar's wife with all his strength. But ultimately, the pressure of her campaign had simply become too much for him. He simply did not have the strength to fight any longer (which, if we imagine his circumstances, as a young slave in a foreign land with no moral support of any kind, is not surprising). He was on the verge of succumbing to sin, not because of desire, but because he had reached the limits of his strength to fight. At this point, God gave him renewed strength by sending him a vision. This is the idea expressed in the verse that God "gives strength to the weary," which, the Dubno Maggid explains, is fundamentally the same thing that happened with Pharaoh. In both cases, God gave them the renewed strength of will to resist what would otherwise have been overwhelming pressure. The difference between the two is only that in the case of Joseph his true desire was to do what was right, and in the case of Pharaoh his true desire was to do evil.

These two approaches may be reflected in the debate between the Sages, R' Yochanan and R' Shimon Lakish, in the medrash (Shemos Raba 13:3, cited in the Ramban):

"For I have hardened his heart." (Exodus 10:1) - R' Yochanan said, "This gives an opening for heretics to claim that he had no opportunity to repent!" R' Shimon ben Lakish said to him, "May the mouths of the heretics be sealed! Rather, [the true understanding is] "He mocks the mockers" (Proverbs 3:34) - He warns him once, twice, and a third time, and he [still] does not repent, and He closes his heart to repentance in order to punish him for his sin. So it was with the wicked Pharaoh. Once God had communicated with him five times (i.e. the first five plagues) and he paid no heed, God said to him, 'You have stiffened your neck and hardened your heart, behold, I shall add impurity upon your impurity!"

The Yefeh To'ar (commentary on Midrash Raba by R' Shmuel Yafa Ashkenazi, 16th century) argues that R' Yochanan follows the second approach that we have described, that Pharaoh did not lose his free will. Thus he says that a simple reading of the verse would seem to support to the claims of the heretics that Pharaoh had no free-will and therefore did not deserve to be punished. R' Shimon ben Lakish, however, following the approach of Maimonides, says that Pharaoh did indeed lose his free will, but that the arguments of the heretics are nevertheless baseless, for this was his punishment for his extreme wickedness.

R' Elya Lopian

Whether we follow the interpretation of the Yefeh To'ar or not, it would seem clear that R' Shimon ben Lakish is the following the approach of Maimonides, that Pharaoh did indeed lose his ability to repent for his sins. However, in Lev Eliyahu (vol.2, p.49), R' Elya Lopian (d.1970) argues - emphatically - that teshuva is always possible, stating:

Know and remember this: That one who says, "I am unable to break my desire and stand up against my nature," this is heresy. As we see in the debate between R' Yochanan and R'Shimon ben Lakish... that both agree that this is what is said by heretics.

(Thus, in a lengthy note on the Lev Eliyahu (p.49-51), R' Sholom Schwadron (d.1997) argues (based upon a later passage in Hil. Teshuva) that even according to Maimonides, it is possible for a person to regain his ability to repent through prayer.)

Instead, R' Elya Lopian (p.44) understands the opinion of R' Shimon ben Lakish to mean not that God takes away the sinner's ability to repent, but rather that God ceases to reach out to the sinner to motivate him to repent.

This idea is also found in the Kedushas Levi (R' Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev, d.1809). The Kedushas Levi (Deuteronomy 28:1) states that the Sages tell us that there is a Heavenly voice that calls out every day, "Return, O wayward sons!" (Jeremiah 3:22). This Heavenly voice is heard, on a spiritual level, by every Jew, and it serves to arouse his soul to repentance. However, the Sages tell us of certain Sage, R' Elisha ben Avuya, who became a heretic and became known as Acher. On a few instances, when asked why he did not repent from his sins, he responded that he had heard a Heavenly voice call out, "Return, O wayward sons! - Except for Acher!" (Chagiga 15a)

The Kedushas Levi explains that Acher did not lose the ability to repent, and if he had repented, his repentance would have been accepted. What Acher had lost was the daily Divine inspiration towards repentance that is the normal state for every Jew. Acher's sins were so great that the Heavenly voice no longer functioned to arouse his soul to repentance. For Acher, without that Divine inspiration, repentance would be far more difficult than for an ordinary Jew, but it remained within his power to do.

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Vayechi - The Merit of Zevulun

In Parshas Vayechi we read of Jacob’s blessings to his sons before his passing. After blessing the four eldest sons of Leah, Jacob then blessed Leah’s two youngest sons, Yissachar and Zevulun. However, in this case, Jacob blessed Zevulun before his elder brother, Yissachar, saying (Genesis 49:13):

זבולן לחוף ימים ישכן והוא לחוף אנית וירכתו על צידן

Zevulun shall dwell by the seashores; he shall be a port for ships, and his border shall reach until Sidon.

Many commentaries note this change in order. The Midrash Tanchuma (Vayechi 11) explains:

קדם זבולן ליששכר, ולמה? שזבולן עוסק בפרקמטיא, ויששכר עוסק בתורה. עשו שותפות ביניהם שיהא פרקמטיא של זבולן ליששכר, שכן משה ברכן, "שמח זבולן בצאתך ויששכר באהליך", שמח זבולן בצאתך לפרקמטיא משום דיששכר באהליך עוסק בתורה. למה? "עץ חיים היא למחזיקים בה." לפיכך הקדים זבולן ליששכר, שאלמלא זבולן לא עסק יששכר בתורה. ומתוך שנתיחד יששכר בתורה ולא עסק בפרקמטיא ולא היה לו עמל בדבר אחר לפיכך כתוב בו, "מבני יששכר יודעי בינה לעתים."

Why did he put Zevulun before Yissachar? For Zevulun was occupied in trade and Yissachar was occupied in Torah study. They made a partnership with each other, so that Yissachar would be supported by Zevulun’s trade. For thus were they they blessed by Moses (Deuteronomy 33:18), “Rejoice, Zevulun, in your going out, and Yissachar in your tents.” [Meaning,] “Rejoice, Zevulun, in your going out” for trade, because “Yissachar is in your tents” studying Torah. Why [should he rejoice]? “For it (i.e. the Torah) is a tree of life to those who support it.” (Proverbs 3:18). For this reason he gave priority to Zevulun over Yissachar, for if it were not for Zevulun, Yissachar would not be occupied with Torah. And from the fact that Yissachar was devoted exclusively to Torah, and was not involved with trade and did not have to labor in any other area, therefore it was said of him (1 Chronicles 12:33), “And from the children of Yissachar came men that had understanding of the times.”

The medrash tells us that Zevulun was given priority over Yissachar because he supported Yissachar in his Torah studies. The medrash adds that thanks to Zevulun’s support, Yissachar was able to devote himself purely to Torah study and thereby produced many important Torah scholars who served as leaders of the Jewish people.

The Seforno (R’ Ovadia Seforno, d.1550) expands on this teaching in his commentary:

והקדים זבולון העוסק בפרקמטיא ליששכר העוסק בתורה, וכן משה רבינו בברכתו, באמרו, "שמח זבולון בצאתך, ויששכר באהליך", כי אמנם אי אפשר לעסוק בתורה מבלי שישיג האדם קודם די מחסורו, כאמרם, "אם אין קמח, אין תורה." וכשיסייע האחד את חבירו להמציאו די מחסורו כדי שיעסוק בתורה, כמו שאמרו בזבולון, הנה עבודת הא-ל ית' בהשתדלות העוסק בתורה תהיה מיוחדת לשניהם.
וזאת היתה כונת התורה במתנות כהונה ולויה, שיסייע כל העם לתופשי התורה, שהם הכהנים והלויים, כאמרו "יורו משפטיך ליעקב," ויזכו כולם לחיי עולם, כאמרם, "כל ישראל יש להם חלק לעולם הבא."

He placed Zevulun, who is involved in trade, before Yissachar, who is involved in Torah study (as did our teacher, Moses, when he said (Deuteronomy 33:18), “Rejoice, Zevulun, in your going out, and Yissachar in your tents”) because it is not possible for a person to devote himself to Torah study unless he first is able to supply his basic needs, as the Sages taught (Avos 3:17), “If there is no flour, there is no Torah.” So, when a person helps provide his fellow with his basic needs so that he can devote himself to Torah study, as we are taught about Zevulun, the service of God that is achieved through the efforts of the one who is devoted to Torah study is attributed to both of them.

This is also the intent of the Torah with regard to the various gifts given to the Kohanim and Leviim, so that the entire nation should thereby provide support for the Torah scholars, who are the Kohanim and Leviim (as it says (Deuteronomy 33:10), “They shall teach Your law to Jacob”), and through this they will all merit eternal life, as the Sages say (Sanhedrin 90a), “Every Jew has a share in the world to come.”

The Seforno tells us that the underlying principle of the Yissachar and Zevulun arrangement, i.e. that by enabling others to study Torah we share in the merit earned through that Torah, is the basis for the relationship between the priestly tribe of Levi and the rest of the Jewish people. Moreover, the Seforno indicates that it is precisely this principle that makes it possible for the entire Jewish people to merit a share in the world-to-come.

So we find that Zevulun was blessed before Yissachar in order to teach us that Zevulun’s merit is equal to that of Yissachar (contrary to what we would otherwise have assumed), and they are equal partners in the merit of Yissachar’s Torah study.

However, this leaves us with a difficulty because, when all is said and done, Yissachar seems to be getting the far better end of the deal. Granted that, in the end, both Yissachar and Zevulun will share the merit equally, but in the meantime, while Zevulun is stuck working as a merchant, Yissachar actually gets to study Torah! (Of course, even with his support of Yissachar, Zevulun is still subject to the obligation to study Torah, just like any other Jew. However, the nature of the arrangement is such that Yissachar is able to devote himself to Torah to a far greater degree than Zevulun.)

We are all familiar with many famous verses and sayings that stress the great benefit and pleasure of Torah study in of itself, which stands entirely independent from the reward that it earns. As we say to God every evening in our prayers:

אהבת עולם בית ישראל עמך אהבת, תורה ומצות, חוקים ומשפטים, אותנו למדת. על כן ה' אלקינו, בשכבינו ובקומינו נשיח בחקיך, ונשמח בדברי תורתך ובמצותיך לעולם ועד, כי הם חיינו וארך ימינו ובהם נהגה יומם ולילה.

You have loved Your people, the House of Israel, with an eternal love, and You have taught us Torah and commandments, decrees and laws. Therefore, Hashem, our God, when we lay down and when we arise, we shall speak of Your decrees, and we shall rejoice in the words of Your Torah and in Your commandments for all eternity, for they are our life and the length of our days, and in them we shall meditate day and night!

The partnership between Yissachar and Zevulun would therefore seem to be grossly imbalanced in favor of Yissachar. Why would Zevulun be satisfied with such an arrangement, in which Yissachar gets both the pleasure and the merit of studying Torah, while Zevulun only gets to share in the merit? What is Zevulun’s compensation for accepting this role in the first place?

To add a slightly more esoteric element to our question, the Zohar HaKadosh (1:242a) also discusses the blessing of Zevulun:

אמאי אקדים בברכאן זבולון ליששכר תדיר? והא יששכר אשתדלותיה באורייתא, ואורייתא אקדים בכל אתר. אמאי אקדים ליה זבולון בברכאן? אבוי אקדים ליה, משה אקדים ליה. אלא זבולן זכה על דאפיק פתא מפומיה ויהב לפומיה דיששכר. בגיני כך אקדים ליה בברכאן. מהכא אוליפנא מאן דסעיד למריה דאורייתא נטיל ברכאן מעילא ותתא. ולא עוד אלא דזכי לתרי פתורי, מה דלא זכי בר נש אחרא. זכי לעותרא דיתברך בהאי עלמא וזכי למהוי ליה חולקא בעלמא דאתי.

Why is Zevulun always placed before [his elder brother] Yissachar in the blessings? [Especially,] being that Yissachar was devoted to Torah study, and the Torah is always given priority, why is Zevulun first in the blessings? [For we find that both] their father put him first and Moses put him first?
Zevulun merited because he took bread from his own mouth and gave it into the mouth of Yissachar. This is why he is before [Yissachar] in the blessings.
From here we learn that one who supports a Torah scholar receives blessing from above and below. And not only that, but he merits to two tables, that which no other person merits. He merits blessed wealth in this world, and he merits a share in the world-to-come.

From the Zohar we see that in addition to receiving reward both in this world and the next, Zevulun also receives “blessing from above and below.” What does that mean?

The Arugas HaBosem (commentary on the Torah by R’ Moshe Greenwald of Chust, d.1910) discusses the question of the apparent unfairness of the tribal blessings in relegating Zevulun to the mundane role of a merchant, in order to enable Yissachar to exclusively study Torah.

He compares this apparent injustice to a medrash (cited in Rashi on Leviticus 2:13) that says that on the second day of Creation, when God created the firmament to separate the “upper” and “lower” waters (Genesis 1:6-7), the lower waters complained of being separated from God. God appeased the lower waters by promising that they would be used in the Temple service, in the form of the salt added to every offering, and the nisuch hamayim – the water libation – of Sukkos.

Similarly, it would seem that the tribe of Zevulun would have been justified in complaining of their being “separated” from God, and being given the mundane task of earning money, while Yissachar is able to engage exclusively in Torah study. However, this is not so, for in reality Zevulun has been given a spiritual task that, in certain respects, is superior to that of Yissachar.

At the end of the book of Proverbs we read the famous poem, Eishes Chayil – “A Woman of Valor”. The commentaries tell us that, in addition to its simple meaning, this poem is also an allegory for the Torah. In the poem we read (Proverbs 31:14):

היתה כאניות סוחר ממרחק תביא לחמה:

She is like a trader’s ships, bringing her bread from afar.

A sea-merchant’s trade is based on the idea of buying merchandise in a location where it is plentiful and cheap, and then transporting the merchandise for sale in a location where it is rare and valuable. Generally speaking, the further the merchandise travels, the more valuable it becomes because of its rarity in its new location.

The Arugas HaBosem explains that just as a sea-trader’s merchandise is of great value because it comes from far away, in a similar sense, the Torah enables us to transport into this world a holiness that comes from highest spiritual realms, and also gives us the ability to lift our physical actions up to those same spiritual heights. Just as merchandise from far distant lands is precious, so too are our physical acts of avodas Hashem (service of God) of immense value in the Heavenly realms.

From this we can understand why the service of Zevulun, who works to earn money in order to support Torah study, is in certain respects even more precious than the service of Yissachar, who devotes himself purely to Torah study. For Zevulun takes the most mundane of activities and lifts it up to the highest spiritual heights by using his earnings to support Yissachar’s Torah study.

Zevulun, therefore, truly has no grounds for complaint, for his spiritual task is indeed equal, if not superior, to that of Yissachar. The Arugas HaBosem sees this idea as hinted to in the blessing, in the words, “זבולן לחוף ימים” – literally, “Zevulun dwells by the shores of the seas.” The verse ought to have said, “לחוף ים” – “by the shores of the sea” – in the singular. The use of the plural, “seas”, is an allusion to the “upper” and “lower” waters, and is telling us that we should not think that Zevulun's apparently mundane role has relegated him to the lower realm, but that, in reality, Zevulun dwells on the “shores of the seas” of both the lower and higher realms.

With this understanding, we can perhaps also explain the statement of the Zohar that Zevulun receives blessing “from above and below”. By supporting Yissachar, not only does Zevulun receive reward in this world and the next, but he also experiences the immediate blessing of spiritually unifying the highest and lowest realms.

Zevulun’s role as a supporter of Torah study is clearly far more significant that it might appear at first glance. While Yissachar represents the deveikus – spiritual connection with God – that is achieved through Torah study, Zevulun represents the deveikus that is achieved by fulfilling the concept taught by the Sages (Talmud, Brachos 63a):

איזוהי פרשה קטנה שכל גופי תורה תלוין בה? "בכל דרכיך דעהו"

What is a small verse upon which all the basics of Torah depend? “In all your ways know Him.” (Proverbs 3:6)

In his Asara Maamaros, the Shelah HaKadosh (R’ Isaiah Horowitz, d.1630) devotes the entire eighth maamar to this concept, which he describes as "דביקות הלב בכל הדרכים לעבודת ה' יתברך" – “Connecting the heart in every way to the service of God.” Towards the end of the maamar, the Shelah HaKadosh uses this idea to explain an otherwise difficult medrash on the verse in Psalms (119:59):

חשבתי דרכי ואשיבה רגלי אל עדתיך:

I considered my ways, and I turned my feet to your testimonies.

The medrash (Vayikra Raba 35:1) states:

אמ' דוד לפני הקב"ה, רבון העולמים בכל יום ויום הייתי מחשב ואומר למקום פלוני אני הולך , לבית דירה פלונית אני הולך, והיו רגליי מביאות אותי לבתי כניסיות ולבתי מדרשות, הה"ד ואשיבה רגלי אל עדותיך.

David said to the Holy One, blessed is He, “Master of the Worlds! Every day I plan and say, ‘I will go to such-and-such location,’ ‘I will go to the home of so-and-so,’ and my legs bring me to the synagogues and the batei medrash (houses of study).”

At first glance, this medrash seems to be saying that every day King David would plan out his day, yet despite his plans otherwise, he would always end up at the shuls and batei medrash! However, the Shelah HaKadosh rejects this understanding for several reasons, including the fact that this would imply that in some sense, King David’s free will had been compromised, which would make his good deeds meaningless.

Instead, the Shelah haKadosh explains that in reality, King David indeed made plans every day to take care of his many responsibilities as a king, and he did exactly what he planned to do. He went here, he visited there, and he met with whomever. However, King David is saying in this medrash that everything he did, throughout the day, as mundane and workaday as it seemed, was all for the purpose of maintaining the synagogues and study halls of the Jewish people. Thus, even though he was going here and there, from a spiritual perspective it was as if he was going to the synagogues and study halls himself!

While their techniques are different, both Yissachar and Zevulun are fulfilling the purpose of this world by spiritually lifting this physical world up to the highest spiritual realms. Each one makes a unique and irreplaceable contribution. This is the reason God made the world in such a manner, in which different people find themselves serving Hashem in different ways.

The Chofetz Chaim taught (ח"ח עה"ת) that God has never expected the entire Jewish people to be exclusively involved in Torah study. From the beginning of the establishment of the Jewish people, God gave different roles to different tribes, and He distinguished Yissachar as a tribe that was uniquely suited for exclusive Torah study and Zevulun as a tribe that was uniquely suited to the role of supporting Torah study. Together, the two tribes are the “pillars of the world”, for their combined efforts uphold God’s creation, which only exists through the merit of Torah study.

Today we no longer have the clear-cut roles that once existed for the tribes. Nevertheless, every one of us can still choose to be a pillar of the world if we truly devote ourselves to the study of Torah, whether through study or by supporting those who study, or, ideally, both!

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Mikeitz - The Error of Desperation

At the end of last week's parsha, after Joseph intepreted the dream of Pharaoh's wine steward and told him that he would be freed from prison, he asked the wine steward to intercede on his behalf with Pharaoh. Yet, upon being freed, the wine steward immediately forgot Joseph and did nothing for him.

Parshas Mikeitz begins exactly two years later, when Pharaoh is himself experiencing a dreams that no one is able to explain. Suddenly the wine bearer remembers Joseph, the man who had interpreted his own dreams while he had been in prison.

The Midrash Raba (פט:ג) states that there was a reason for this two year delay:

ע"י שאמר לשר המשקים זכרתני והזכרתני ניתוסף לו שתי שנים

Because he said to the wine steward “remember me… and mention me” two years were added [to his time in prison].”

The Midrash seems to indicate that by asking the steward for help, Joseph demonstrated insufficient bitachon – trust in God. This is extremely puzzling, as we know that it is permitted, even required, to make normal efforts to solve our problems. We are not supposed to simply sit back and wait for God to miraculously help us. So what was wrong with what Joseph did?

The Chazon Ish

The Chazon Ish, Rav Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz (d.1953), in his work אמונה ובטחון, explains that the true essence of bitachon is an absolute certainty that God is always in control of events. A person who genuinely believes this will therefore never give up hope or act out of desperation, because he knows that even if he is not able to do anything himself, God is still in control.

When a person who feels a sense of desperation, i.e. that he has a problem for which he can find no reasonable solution, he will often attempt to solve his problem through methods that are extremely unlikely to succeed. He will do strange and unusual things because he believes that he has run out of alternatives. However, a person with genuine bitachon will never do this, because he always has God to fall back on.

In other words, while we are required to take normal, rational steps to care for ourselves, and we are not permitted to simply rely on God to miraculously provide us with all our needs and solve all our problems, this does not mean that bitachon has no practical expression. Bitachon means that once one has exhausted all reasonable means to deal with a problem, then the problem is no longer your responsibility. A person with genuine bitachon never feels that he has to "do something", no matter how crazy, because "doing something is better than doing nothing." From a Torah perspective, if the "something" is nothing more than a shot-in-the-dark act of desperation, then doing nothing actually is better than doing "something", for doing "something" demonstrates that one doesn't really believe that God is in control.

Based on this concept, the Chazon Ish explains that the nature of Egyptian society was such that it was extremely unlikely that the wine steward - a high ranking nobleman - would repay Joseph - a foreign slave - by mentioning him to the king. Thus, when Joseph asked the steward to remember him and mention him to Pharaoh, he knew that this was really just a wild "shot-in-the-dark", and that it was extremely unlikely to succeed. Such an act of desperation expressed a lack of bitachon that was inappropriate for a person on Joseph’s high spiritual level.

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Vayishlach - The Task of the Yetzer Hara

In Parshas Vayishlach we read of Jacob's nighttime struggle with a mysterious antagonist who attacked him and struggled with him until just before daybreak. When the "man" saw that he could not defeat Jacob, he dislocated Jacob’s hip joint. He then said to Jacob (Genesis 32:27), “Let me go for the dawn is rising.” Jacob said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” The man then told him that he would no longer be called Jacob but Israel, for he had become great before God and man. Jacob then asked for the man’s name but he refused to reveal it.

The Sages tell us that the mysterious antagonist was an angel, specifically שרו של עשו – the ministering angel of Eisav - who is also identified as the שטן (Satan) and the יצר הרע (yetzer hara - "evil inclination"). This struggle therefore symbolized the basic struggle between good and evil that takes place on many different levels.

Rashi

Rashi (R' Shlomo Yitzchaki d.1105) explains that when the “man” asked Jacob to release him "for the dawn is risen," his intent was that he had to go at dawn to sing before God, "צריך אני לומר שירה ביום" – "I must recite song by day." The Talmud (:חולין צא) explains:

אמר לו: מלאך אני, ומיום שנבראתי לא הגיע זמני לומר שירה עד עכשיו

[The angel] said to him, “I am an angel, and from the day that I was created, my time has not come to recite song until now.”

This raises the obvious question as to why it happened that the very same day that the angel struggled with Jacob was also the very first time that the angel ever sang before God?

The Koznitzer Maggid (R' Yisrael of Koznitz, d.1814) explains (בשם חכם אחד), that an angel only gets to sing before God when it has fulfilled its purpose of existence. As we mentioned above, the angel that fought with Jacob was the yetzer hara - the so-called "evil inclination" - that tempts man to sin. The struggle between Jacob and the angel was therefore not a simple, physical wrestling match, but an attempt of the yetzer hara to seduce Jacob to sin in some manner. However, the ultimate purpose of the yetzer hara is not actually to cause us to sin, but to tempt us to sin and be defeated! Thus, when Jacob succeeded in completely defeating the yetzer hara  he enabled it to finally fulfill its true purpose, and the angel got to sing before God for the very first time.

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The Ten Trials of Abraham

According to the Talmud (Avos 5:3), Abraham was tested ten times and he passed all of the tests. The purpose of these tests was to "to demonstrate how great was the love of Abraham our Father" for he never questioned God's judgment.

Maimonides

In his commentary on the Mishna, Maimonides lists the ten tests, all of which are clearly stated in the Torah:

1. The command for Abraham to leave his home and live in a strange land. (12:1)
2. The famine that occurred in the land of Canaan after God promised to make Abraham into a great nation in that land. (12:2-10)
3. The violence of the Egyptians when they abducted Sarah. (12:14-20)
4. The war with the four kings. (14)
5. Marrying Hagar after giving up hope that Sarah would have children. (16:1-2)
6. The commandment of circumcision in his old age. (17:1)
7. The violence of the king of Gerar who also abducted Sarah. (20)
8. Sending away Hagar after she had borne him a child. (21)
9. The difficult commandment to send away his own son, Yishmael. (21)
10. The binding of Isaac. (22)

There are several other opinions on the exact numeration of the ten tests. Many of these alternate lists include incidents that are not written explicitly in the Torah but are only known from midrashim (such as Abraham being thrown into the furnace in Ur Kasdim).

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Vayeira - The Concept of Heavenly Trial ("Nisayon")

Parshas Vayeira ends with the story of the final trial of Abraham, the Akeidas Yitzchak - the Binding of Isaac. The Torah introduces this story with the explicit statement that this was a test: "והאלקים נסה את אברהם" - "and God tested Abraham."

What is the function of a נסיון – a “test” from God? Maimonides (Moreh Nevuchim 3:24) says that this topic is “מן הקשיים החמורים שבתורה” – “from the most difficult topics in the Torah.” The primary difficulty, of course, is that God already knows if the person will pass the test, which would seem to make the test unnecessary. Indeed, as the verse in Psalms 11:5 states, "ה' צדיק יבחן" - "God tests the righteous"; God only imposes tests upon those whom He already knows to be righteous.

Clearly, then, a Heavenly trial - a nisayon - is not a "test" in the conventional sense. Rather, it serves a positive function on the person being tested or the people around him.

The Midrash (ב"ר לב:ג and elsewhere) gives three analogies to help us understand the concept of Heavenly trials upon the righteous. As explained by the commentaries, these three analogies describe three different functions that can be found in Heavenly trials. In most cases, such as with the Akeidas Yitzchak, all three functions exist simultaneously.

The first analogy given by the midrash  is to a potter who bangs on his pots to demonstrate their durability in order that people should buy. Of course, the potter only bangs on his best pots for this purpose, banging on his worst pots would defeat his purpose. Similarly, God subjects righteous to trials in order to demonstrate their great virtues to the world so that others will emulate them. (This is the approach taken by Maimonides in Moreh Nevuchim.)

Beating flax in ancient Egypt.

The second analogy is to a flax worker who beats on flax to improve the quality of the linen made from it. When beating the flax, care must be taken not to break the actual fibers. The fibers in poor quality flax are more susceptible to breakage, and therefore can only be beaten minimally if at all, and are used to produce poorer quality products.  The better the quality of the flax, the more the workers beat it to create a finer quality linen. Similarly, God subjects the righteous to great challenges because through these challenges they can grow to higher and higher levels of righteousness.

The third analogy is to a farmer who owns two oxen, a weak ox and a strong ox. The farmer uses the strong ox to do the hardest and most important tasks, while the weaker ox is only used for easy tasks. Similarly, God subjects the righteous to great challenges so that their merit will benefit the entire world.

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Noach - The Value of Diversity

Towards the end of Parshas Noach we read the famous story of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11:1-9):

The whole earth was of one language and of unified terms. When they journeyed from the east, they found a plain in the land of Shinar; and they settled there. And they said, a man to his fellow, "Come, let us make bricks, and fire them," and they had brick for stone, and asphalt for mortar. And they said, "Come, let us build us a city, and a tower with its top in the sky, and let us make for ourselves a name; lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth."

And God descended to see the city and the tower which the children of men had built. And God said, "Behold, they are one people with one language for all of them, and this is what they begin to do! And now nothing that they plan to do will be withheld from them! Come, let us go down and confuse their language, so that a man will not understand the language of his fellow." And God scattered them from there over the face of all the earth, and they stopped building the city. Therefore it was called by the name Babel, for there God confused the language of all the earth, and from there God scattered them upon the face of all the earth.

The story of the Dor Haflaga - the Generation of the Dispersal - is one of the most enigmatic narratives in the Torah. Humanity joins together in a great project, to build a great city and tower, that would enable them to live together in unity. This would seem to be a good thing, certainly not a sin! Yet, while the Torah never actually accuses them of committing a sin, or even of doing anything improper, God clearly disapproved of this plan and instead caused humanity to be scattered over the entire earth.

The commentaries struggle a great deal to explain what the Torah is telling us in this story. There are many midrashim that tell us that the builders of the Tower were engaged, in some sense, in a rebellion against God; that they intended to ascend to the Heavens and wage war against God (an utter absurdity, if understood literally). Others say that the Tower was intended for idolatry, or to somehow prevent another flood. However, in the final analysis, the Torah does not mention any of these concerns, and instead focuses only on the fact that the entire human race was unified. The Torah is clearly indicating that, whatever other issues may have been going on, the critical problem was the fact that they were unified. And, in the end, they were not really punished, but simply dispersed over the face of the earth. Thus, the problem was unity and the solution was dispersal.

How are we to understand this? Aren't peace and unity among the most basic values taught by Judaism? The unity of the human race should have been a good thing; one that we should try to emulate! Indeed, the Ibn Ezra writes that even the most righteous men of that generation - Noah, his son Shem, and even Abraham himself - were among the builders of the Tower of Babel!^[1] Clearly, then, the intent of the builders of the Tower was not wicked. So what did they do wrong?

The Netziv
R' Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin

In his classic essay on anti-Semitism, She'ar Yisrael (usually printed in the back of his commentary on Shir Hashirim), the Netziv (Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, d.1893) explains that the fundamental problem with the Dor Haflaga was that their actions went against God's intended goals for mankind in two basic ways.

Firstly, because God's intent is that mankind should spread out over the entire earth, as God instructed Noah (Genesis 9:7), "And you, be fruitful and multiply; swarm in the earth, and multiply therein."

Secondly, and more significantly, the goal of the Dor Haflaga was not only to keep mankind united geographically, but also to keep them united ideologically, that they should have a unified culture and philosophy. The function of the Tower was to enable the people to supervise the surrounding regions, in case any group attempted to break away from the community and go off on their own. God, however, does not intend mankind to have a single monolithic culture. Rather, God's intent is for humanity to be diverse, with many different cultures and opinions and ways of life.

While the people of that generation may have had good intentions, they made the same error that has been made by innumerable intelligent people throughout history. They sought to create a utopia - an ideal society. And like every other utopia that has ever been proposed, their perfect society had one critical flaw: the repression of diversity. Every utopia requires a system - ultimately, a totalitarian system - that ensures conformity to the standards of the society. Once true diversity is allowed in, once people are allowed to make independent choices about how to live their lives, the utopia will quickly lose its utopian qualities.

We see here that diversity is a good thing, and that mankind is supposed to have many different kinds of people and cultures. This is true not only on a global scale, but even within the Jewish people themselves, in the twelve tribes of the children of Israel, each of which had its own unique culture and way of life.

Of course, there are limits to diversity. There are moral principles that God has imposed on all mankind, and even more so on the Jewish people. These cannot be set aside for the sake of diversity. However, within the parameters of the laws and teachings of the Torah, there remains a great deal of room for diversity. Indeed, the Chozeh M'Lublin (R' Yakov Yitzchak Horowitz, d.1815) commented on the famous passage from the Talmud (Makkos 3:16), "God wanted to give merit to Israel, therefore He increased for them Torah and mitzvos," that the abundance of mitzvos is intended to enable each individual to serve God in his own unique fashion.^[2]

It goes without saying that peace and unity are extraordinarily important values, but they are not absolute values. Tolerance of diversity is an intrinsic aspect of genuine peace and unity and a peace and unity that is built upon conformity for its own sake has no value whatsoever. True peace and unity must be built upon a foundation of truth and the recognition of shared core values that are far more important than any superficial conformity. Indeed, such a unity of mankind is the ultimate goal of history. As God described the messianic age to the prophet Zephaniah (3:9), "For then I will change the peoples to a pure language, so that they will all call in the name of God, to serve Him in unity."

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[1] Ibn Ezra (Genesis 11:1) states: ...היה אברהם מבוני המגדל, ואל תתמה, כי נח ושם היו שם. The Seder HaDoros (א' תתקע"ד) cites this opinion as well, נח ואברם ושם עזרו בבנין המגדל. Rav Miller similarly cites the Ralbag as saying that Noah and Shem were among the builders, but I was not able to find this in the Ralbag.

[2] ביאורי חסידות לש"ס from R' Y.Y. Chasida on Makkos 23b from Sefer Zichron Zos - Vayakhel.

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Ki Seitzei - The Lesson of Shatneiz

In Parshas Ki Seitzei we read (Deuteronomy 22:11), "לא תלבש שעטנז צמר ופשתים יחדו" - "You shall not wear shatneiz, wool and linen together." 

This is the prohibition of shatneiz, wearing any garment containing a mixture of wool and linen (flax). The prohibition includes any use of such a material to warm the body (such as a blanket).

Shatneiz is one of the classic examples of a chok - a non-rational commandment. Nevertheless, as is the case with all of the chukim, there are always insights and lessons that can be drawn from this commandment.

The midrash (תנחומה בראשית ט', פרקי דר' אליעזר כ"א) connects the prohibition of shatneiz to the incident of Cain and Abel in Genesis 4. As the Torah tells us there, Cain brought an offering before God from the “fruit of the ground” and his brother, Abel, brought an offering from the choicest of his flock of sheep. God showed favor only to Abel’s offering because, as the commentaries explain, Abel brought from the best of his sheep, whereas Cain brought inferior material from his crops. Cain was angered by this and murdered his brother. The midrash states that the crop that Kayin brought as an offering was פשתים – flax. The midrash continues that this is the reason why it is forbidden to combine linen (which is made from flax) with wool (which comes from sheep) in our garments.

The Yismach Yisrael (Rav Yerachmiel Yisrael Yitzchak Danziger of Alexander, d.1910) uses this medrash to explain the deeper meaning of the verse from Eishes Chayil, the famous paean of praise for the Jewish woman written by King Solomon in Proverbs 31. The verse (Proverbs 31:13) states, "דרשה צמר ופשתים ותעש בחפץ כפיה" - "She seeks out wool and linen and her hands work willingly."

The Yismach Yisrael explains the words דרשה צמר ופשתים to mean, “She delves (דרש) into the meaning of wool and linen” - she seeks out the meaning of the prohibition of shatneiz taught by the medrash and she learns that the reason the offering of Abel found favor before God was that Abel made his offering with genuine happiness and enthusiasm, whereas Cain only gave from the poorer quality plants. Having learned this lesson and taking it to heart, ותעש בחפץ כפיה – “her hands work willingly;” she fulfills the commandments of God with happiness and enthusiasm.

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From Av to Elul – From Tragedy to Repentance

We are currently in the Jewish month of Av, the month devoted to mourning the destruction of the Holy Temples in Jerusalem – which culminates in the fast of Tisha B’Av – and to our faith that God will eventually comfort us – as expressed in the seven haftaros read each Shabbos between Tisha B’Av and Rosh HaShana. The month of Av is followed by Elul, the month devoted to teshuva (repentance) in preparation for Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur.

What is the meaning of this sudden shift from the month of tragedy and mourning to the month of penitence and rapprochement between Man and God? To understand this we need to gain a deeper insight into the basic message of Av.

The Midrash (Eicha Raba 1:1) states:

Three [prophets] prophesied using the term “eicha”: Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah. Moses said, “How (Eicha) can I bear this people alone…” (Deut. 1:12). Isaiah said, “How (Eicha) has the faithful city become a harlot…” (Isaiah 1:21). Jeremiah said, “Alas! (Eicha) She sits in solitude…” (Lamentations 1:1).

R’ Levi said, “This is analogous to a noble-woman that had three servants, one saw her when she was in comfort, one saw her in her licentiousness, and one saw her in her disgrace. Similarly, Moses saw Israel in their honor and comfort and said, “How can I bear this people alone…”, Isaiah saw them in their licentiousness and said, “How has the faithful city become a harlot…”, and Jeremiah saw them in their disgrace and said, “Alas! She sits alone…”

These verses of Eicha are all read in the month of Av – the verses in Deuteronomy and Isaiah are read on the Shabbos before Tisha B’Av and the book of Lamentations is read on Tisha B’Av – and, taken together, they give us a key to the basic message of Av. The Elef HaMagen (Commentary on the Torah by Rav Eliezer Papo, d. 1824, author of the Pele Yo'etz) draws a connection between these three verses of Eicha and a passage in the Talmud (Yoma 35b):

A poor man, a wealthy man, and a wicked man are brought before [the heavenly court for] judgment. They say to the poor man, “Why didn't you study Torah?” If he responds that he was too poor and was preoccupied with his livelihood, they say to him, “Were you more impoverished than Hillel?” [Hillel the Elder, one of the greatest sages of the Talmud, was also an extremely poor man.] … 

They say to the wealthy man, “Why didn't you study Torah?” If he responds that he was wealthy and was preoccupied with his financial obligations, they say to him, “Were you more wealthy than Elazar ben Charsom?” [Rabbi Elazar ben Charsom was a prominent sage who was also extremely wealthy.]…

They say to the wicked man, “Why didn't you study Torah?” If he responds that he was very good-looking and was [therefore] preoccupied by his desires, they say to him, “Were you more beautiful than Joseph HaTzadik (the Righteous)?” [Joseph, the son of Jacob, was extremely beautiful and was severely challenged in this regard when he lived in the home of Potiphar in Egypt.]…

Thus we find that Hillel obligates the poor, Rabbi Elazar ben Charsom obligates the wealthy, and Joseph HaTzadik obligates the wicked.

The Talmud gives three categories of rationalizations – the excuses of poverty, wealth, and temptation – that people rely upon to deny their responsibility for their moral failures. Almost every excuse that we make for ourselves falls into one of these three categories. These three excuses are paralleled in the three verses of Eicha. Moses spoke of the Jewish people in their time of success, paralleling the challenge of wealth; Isaiah spoke of the Jewish people in their time of sin, paralleling the challenge of temptation; and Jeremiah spoke of the Jewish people in their time of suffering, paralleling the challenge of poverty.

Rav Avigdor Miller

The Midrash (Eicha Raba 1:1) points out the connection between the word Eicha and the word Ayeka (both words are spelled identically) in Genesis 3:8, when, after the sin of eating from the Tree of Knowledge, God calls out to Man, “Ayeka?" - "Where are you?” What exactly was God asking? God certainly knew exactly where Adam and Eve were hiding! Rav Avigdor Miller explains:

Every sinner hides from Hashem… behind self-justifications and self-deceptions. ...all sinners are actually hiding from Him behind their barricades of self-deception and self-justification. ... Hashem calls to the Man: “Where are you?” meaning: Reveal yourself to Me, by removing the barricades of self-justification and false reasoning behind which you attempt to hide from Me.

The cry of Eicha – How can it be! – alludes to that original call of Ayeka – Where are you? – in which God calls us to stop deceiving ourselves and return to Him. The tragedies we mourn in the month of Av are repetitions of that call, intended to shake us out of our complacency and force us to accept responsibility for our actions. The message of Av is precisely this, that it was our failures – failures that we continue to repeat – that brought about these tragedies, and that we must recognize this and acknowledge our own power to change our behavior. We are not slaves to our circumstances; as human beings we are fundamentally free to control our actions, and we therefore bear the responsibility to do so.

Maimonides

Maimonides devotes two full chapters of his laws of repentance to the topic of free-will (Hil. Teshuva 5:1-3):

Free-will is given to every human being. If he wishes to turn himself to the good path and to be righteous, he has the ability to do so, and if he chooses to turn himself to the bad path, and be wicked, he has the power to do so....

Do not think... that God decrees upon a person at the beginning of his existence whether he will be righteous or wicked. It is not so! Rather, every single human being has the ability to be as righteous as Moses our Teacher, or as wicked as Jeroboam....

This concept is a major principle and the pillar of the Torah and the Commandment, as it says (Deuteronomy 30:15), "See, I have placed before you today life and good, and death and evil." And it is written (ibid. 11:26), "See, I have placed before you today blessing and curse."

Maimonides concludes his discussion of free-will stating (Hil. Teshuva 7:1):

Since, as we have explained, every human being has free-will, a man should strive to repent and to cleanse his hands of his sins, so that he should die as a penitent and merit to the life of the world to come.

The recognition of our free-will and responsibility is of fundamental importance as we enter the month of Elul – the month of teshuva (repentance). As long as we deceive ourselves into thinking that our actions are not within our control, teshuva is impossible. It is only after we accept responsibility for our deeds that we can begin the process of teshuva.

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The Martyrdom of Chana and her Seven Sons

The story of the martyrdom of Chana and her seven sons is recorded in several sources. The primary sources are the Talmud (Gitin 57b), the Midrash Rabba (Eicha 1:50), the book of II Maccabees (chap. 7), and the medieval historical work, Yossipon (chap. 19). There are some significant variations in the different versions of the story. For example, only Yossipon identifies the mother as Chana; most of the sources do not give the mother a name but simply refer to her as a widow. (The Midrash Rabba gives her name as Miriam bas Nachtom or Tanchum.) It is possible that there were actually two (or more) similar stories that merged over time.

One difference in the versions that seems to get a disproportionate amount of attention is that in the Talmudic and Midrashic versions, the martyrs were killed for refusing to bow before an idol, whereas in the version found in II Maccabees and Yossipon they were killed for refusing to eat pig meat. However, in reality this is a very minor distinction, as the the latter sources are almost certainly referring to an idolatrous offering (as is explicit  in the story of the martyrdom of Eliezer that immediately precedes the story of the seven sons in both sources) and the critical issue, in both versions, is idolatry. (Although, given the circumstances, Jewish law would almost certainly demand martyrdom even if there was only a violation of the dietary laws.) 

In my opinion, the most dramatic distinction between the versions is that, in the versions of the Talmud and Midrash, each son justifies his refusal by simply quoting a Biblical verse (except the youngest son, who engages in a more extended dialogue with the king, especially in Midrash Rabba), whereas, in the versions of II Maccabees and Yossipon, each son gives a short but powerful speech, discussing many important principles of Judaism. While these speeches are quite edifying, in my opinion the Talmudic version is far more plausible. While it is not at all surprising that devout Jewish children of the period were proficient in the Bible (especially the famous verses that are quoted), the skilled rhetoric described in II Maccabees seems rather incongruous coming from the mouths of youngsters. It would seem that the author of II Maccabees (or his source material) modified the story for a Greek speaking audience.

The following recounting of the story is based primarily on the Talmudic version with some additional  details from the other sources, primarily the Midrash Rabba.

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Chana and her seven sons were brought before the King. The eldest was brought forward and commanded to bow down to an idol. The son refused, stating, “It is written in the Torah 'I am HaShem your God' (Exodus 20:2).” They took him out and killed him.

(II Maccabees and Yossipon describe the manner of execution in detail. Yossipon writes that when the king heard the eldest son’s refusal, he became very angry. He commanded that an iron pan be brought and placed upon the fire. He then ordered that the son’s tongue should be cut out, his arms and legs should be cut off, and he should be scalped, and that all of these pieces should be placed in the hot frying pan. This was to be done in front of the family. He then ordered that the son, who was still alive, be placed in the pan himself. When the son was close to death, Antiochus ordered that the fire be removed so that the son would not die quickly. This was done to terrify the other members of the family.)

The second son was then brought before the king. He was ordered to bow down to the idol and he refused, stating, “The Torah says, 'You shall not have any other gods before me' (Exodus 20:3).” He was then taken out and killed.

The third son was then brought before the king. He was ordered to bow down to the idol and he refused, stating, “The Torah says, 'Do not bow down to another god' (Exodus 24:14).” He was then taken out and killed.

The fourth son was then brought before the king. He was ordered to bow down to the idol and he refused, stating, “The Torah says, 'He who sacrifices to any god other than HaShem shall be destroyed' (Exodus 22:19).” He was then taken out and killed.

The fifth son was then brought before the king. He was ordered to bow down to the idol and he refused, stating, “The Torah says 'Hear Israel, HaShem is our God, HaShem is one' (Deuteronomy 6:4).” He was then taken out and killed.

The sixth son was then brought before the king. He was ordered to bow down to the idol and he refused, stating, “The Torah says 'Know today and take to heart, that HaShem is God, in the sky above and the below, there is no other.' (Deuteronomy 4:39).” He was then taken out and killed.

The seventh, youngest son was then brought before the king. He was ordered to bow down to the idol and he refused, stating, “The Torah says 'You have, today, declared HaShem to be your God…and HaShem has, today, declared you to be His special people' (Deuteronomy 26:17-18). We have already promised HaShem not to exchange Him for another god, and He has promised us not to exchange us for another nation.”  The king said to the boy, “I will throw my seal (or ring) on the floor, bend down and pick it up so that the people will say that you have accepted the authority of the king.” The boy responded, “Woe on you, King! Woe on you, King! If your own honor is so important, how much more so the honor of the Holy One, blessed be He!” They took him out to be killed.

His mother said to them, “Give him to me so I may kiss him a little.” She said to him, “My son, go tell Abraham your father, you bound one son to the altar, I bound seven, yours was only a test, mine were for real.”

A few days later the mother went mad and fell off a roof to her death. A heavenly voice said, “a happy mother of sons” (Psalms 113:9).

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