Assessing a Yeshiva

The Alter of Novhardok (R' Yosef Yozel Hurwitz, d.1919) used to say:

מדת הישיבה אינה נמדדת כמה טובים וכמה רעים בתוכה, אלא מהו המכונה והנחשב לרע או לטוב. (ספר המאורות הגדולים, ר' יוסף יוזל הורביץ, ר"א)

A yeshiva is not measured by how many good or bad students are in it, but by what the students consider good or bad. (Sparks of Mussar, p.148)

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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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The Prohibition of Ona'as Devarim – Hurting Another Jew's Feelings

“And you shall not hurt the feelings of one another, but you shall fear your God, for I am HaShem your God.” (Leviticus 25:17)

The Torah commands us not to hurt our fellow Jews in any way, even through speech. Harming another Jew with words is called ona’as devarim – oppressing with words. The Talmud (Bava Metzia 58b) tells us that harming another Jew’s feelings is even worse than cheating him of money.

The Talmud gives several examples of the kinds of harmful statements that are prohibited:

• Reminding a person of something shameful in his past, or in his family’s past. For example, if he was once not properly religious and has since repented, it is forbidden to remind him of his previous deeds. Related to this, if a person is a convert, we are not permitted to make remarks that imply that his non-Jewish origin somehow diminishes his status as a Jew.
• If a person is suffering from misfortune or illness, we are not permitted to tell him that his suffering is a punishment for his sins.
• Shaming someone in public. Even if it is sometimes necessary to admonish a person for his misdeeds, this should be done in private. Shaming a person in public is a terrible sin, even if it is done with good intentions. Obviously, to maliciously shame a person in public is far worse. The Talmud tells us, “Anyone who shames his fellow in public, it is as if he spilled blood.” Shaming another person in public is akin to murder.
  

  “Anyone who shames his fellow in public, it is as if he spilled blood.”

  Instead of saying that it is as if he spilled “his blood”, the Talmud refers to blood in the plural (which doesn’t translate well into English). The Ben Ish Chai (Rabbi Yosef Chaim of Bagdad – 1832-1904) explains that when one shames another person in public, every time the victim remembers his shame or meets someone who was present, he experiences the shame again. So when one shames his fellow in public, he has not merely shamed him once, but he has spilled his blood repeatedly! The Ben Ish Chai

• Calling someone an insulting name. This is particularly problematic if one calls someone by an insulting name so frequently that it becomes a popular nickname for the person.
• Giving misleading or self-serving advice. Do not think that since no one will know that the bad advice was given with bad intent that you will get away with it, because God knows. That is why the Torah adds here, “you shall fear your God”. (Rashi on Leviticus 25:17)
• Arousing false hopes. For example, if one goes into a store with no intent of buying anything, but asks the store owner for prices making him think that you are a potential customer.

The importance of this mitzvah cannot be understated. The Talmud (Bava Metzia 58b) states:

All those who go down to Gehinom (Hell) eventually come back up, except three: one who has committed adultery with another man’s wife, one who has shamed his fellow in public, and one who has given an insulting nickname to his fellow.

We must be very careful not to hurt the feelings of our fellow Jews. We must always bear in mind Hillel’s rule “What is unpleasant to you, do not do to your fellow” (Talmud Shabbos 31a). Sometimes we think that an insulting remark made in jest is harmless. Yet we all know many times when someone’s feelings were hurt from a joking remark. “I was only joking” is not a valid excuse. Just as one does not treat another person’s life as a joking matter, one must treat his fellow’s feeling with great respect. (Pele Yo’etz – Ona’ah)

In addition to the basic mitzvah not to hurt another Jews feelings, the Torah tells us to be extra careful about hurting the feelings of people who are particularly vulnerable. This includes a convert, “When a convert comes to live in your land, do not hurt his feelings” (Leviticus 19:33) or any other person who is not a native to your country, place, or culture (see Exodus 22:20). We must also be extremely careful about the feelings of widows and orphans, for the Torah says, “You shall not afflict any widow, or orphaned child. If you afflict them in any wise, and they cry to me, I will surely hear their cry; And my anger shall burn hot, and I will kill you with the sword; and your wives shall be widows, and your children orphans” (Exodus 22:21-23). The Talmud (BM 59a) also says that a man must be particularly careful not the hurt his wife’s feelings.

Despite the importance of not insulting another person, it is sometimes acceptable to respond strongly to someone who is verbally attacking you. However, even in such a case, one should use care and not speak out of anger. Moreover, it is considered a great level of righteousness to avoid responding even to those who verbally attack you. (Sefer HaChinuch 338)

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This material was originally written for young students.

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On the Popularity of the Mesillas Yesharim

One of the most influential and popular seforim (Jewish religious works) ever written is the mussar (ethical) work, Mesillas Yesharim, by R' Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (d.1747) - popularly known as the "Ramchal". The Mesillas Yesharim is considered a basic text in most yeshivos today and is widely studied by Jews throughout the world (both in the original Hebrew and in translation).

The question, of course, is why - of all the great mussar works written over the generations - this work should have become so immensely popular that it has reached the point of being one of the basic religious works of the Jewish world?

Before we can address the reasons for the immense popularity of this work, we first need to address a concern that is sometimes raised. The Ramchal, who passed away at the young age of 39, had the misfortune of being a rather controversial figure in his lifetime. He was accused - and even threatened with excommunication - of improper involvement in mystical practices and even Sabbatianism (adherence to one of the heretical cults based on the false messiah, Sabbatai Zvi). At first glance it might seem surprising that a work written by such a controversial figure has become such a central text of the Jewish world.

The reality, however, is that the Jewish world has long accepted that these accusations were incorrect. The fact that major figures, most notably, the Vilna Gaon (R' Elijah of Vilna, d.1797), strongly endorsed the Ramchal and his works has served to completely clear any suspicion from his name. The conventional opinion within the Orthodox community is that, as is often the case with complex figures (and the Ramchal was certainly a complex figure), especially those deeply involved with kabbalah and mysticism, the Ramchal was simply misunderstood. (The Ramchal was not unique in this regard; R' Yonason Eibshutz (d.1764) is another example of a major figure accused of Sabbatianism, whose works are fully accepted today, and for largely the same reason.)

The accusations against the Ramchal have, therefore, not been given any credence within the religious Jewish world for well over two centuries, and have long been viewed as just another unfortunate aspect of history.

Of course, the fact that the Ramchal is not viewed as a controversial figure does not, in of itself, explain why the Mesillas Yesharim became so popular. In fact, the Ramchal himself wrote many other works, and while some are fairly popular today, none of them comes close to the extraordinary popularity that the Mesillas Yesharim has enjoyed for more than two centuries.

I don't believe there can be any definite answers to this question. The fact that the Mesillas Yesharim was enthusiastically endorsed by numerous major rabbinic figures over the years (such as the Vilna Gaon and, perhaps most significantly, R' Yisrael Salanter (d.1883), the founder of the Mussar Movement in 19th century Eastern Europe) has certainly played a large role in its popularity. However, asides from the fact that this does not explain why the book received such enthusiastic endorsements in the first place, it also fails to really explain the work's general popularity as well. There have been many works over the years that have been enthusiastically endorsed by major figures that failed to really gain general popularity. (For example, in addition to Mesillas Yesharim, R' Yisrael Salanter also sought to popularize the study of several other mussar works, yet none of these works enjoys anything resembling the popularity of the Mesillas Yesharim, and some, such as the medieval mussar work, Tikkun Middos HaNefesh, by R' Solomon ibn Gabirol (d.1058), remain virtually unknown.) The reality is that it is the popularity of the Mesillas Yesharim that explains why people are aware of the many endorsements it has received, not the other way around.

So what was it about the Mesillas Yesharim that set it apart from all the other classic mussar works?

In my opinion, the most significant factor that sets the Mesillas Yesharim apart from earlier works is that, unlike many earlier mussar works, the Mesillas Yesharim refrains entirely from harsh, condemnatory language directed at the reader.  With many earlier mussar works, it is all too easy for the reader to come away from his studies with a sense of despair and fear. (An elderly - and very religious - woman once told me that she had difficulty studying the classic mussar work Shaarei Teshuva (by Rabbeinu Yona of Gerona, d.1263) because, for her, its uncompromising style was too intimidating and, ultimately, discouraging.) Many older mussar works seem to make a special effort to describe the dreadful fate of the sinner in the afterlife (the Reishis Chochma, by R' Elijah di Vidas, d.1592, is particularly noted for this).

The Mesillas Yesharim entirely refrains from such rhetoric. On the contrary, the work continually stresses that every positive step, no matter how small, is actually a major achievement, and that even one who attains to only the lowest of the levels described in the book has done something extraordinary.

Another significant factor that, in my opinion, distinguishes the Mesillas Yesharim from most earlier works is that he largely refrains from lengthy technical discussions. Many other works are written more in the style of philosophical works than as guides to self-improvement. Perhaps the most dramatic example of this is the classic Chovos Halevovos (by Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda, 11th century), with its often cumbersome lists of proof-texts from Scripture and Rabbinic literature and philosophical arguments that, for the average reader, are often unnecessary. (It should be noted that, despite this issue, the Chovos Halevovos remains quite popular, and is probably the next most popular mussar work after the Mesillas Yesharim.)

Both of these factors point to the single, unique quality that distinguishes the Mesillas Yesharim: The sense that the author is there for you as a supportive and understanding personal mentor. The Ramchal in Mesillas Yesharim never condemns you; he never implies that your spiritual failings mean that you are a bad person or that you just don't care. He never implies that you just need to get your act together and stop doing bad things, as if it were an easy thing to do. And he never attempts to motivate you through fear of punishment. Instead, the Ramchal guides the reader step by step, with practical and inspirational advice, on how to gradually develop oneself and work one's way upwards spiritually. (For an overview of the general structure of the Messilas Yesharim, see my previous post: Who Achieves Divine Inspiration?)

In writing the Mesillas Yesharim in this manner, the Ramchal demonstrated a deep sensitivity to the changes that were taking place in society (both in Jewish society and in society at large). While earlier generations apparently found the older style mussar works effective, in the modern world a very different approach was necessary. The Mesillas Yesharim was thus, in many ways, the first modern Hebrew work. (Indeed, the early maskilim were great admirers of the Ramchal, and the Mesillas Yesharim, for this very reason.)

Given all of the above, it is not surprising that the Mesillas Yesharim was a huge "hit" and became the most popular mussar work of all time.

There is one more issue that is often raised that needs to be addressed. Anyone who has studied the Mesillas Yesharim will quickly recognize that, of the nine levels he describes, few people ever attain much beyond the first two or three. That being so, what is the point of studying the later sections?

Not long ago, I had the opportunity to discuss this topic with my rebbi, who is himself a long-time student of the Mesillas Yesharim. In the discussion, we came to three basic reasons why the later sections of Mesillas Yesharim are relevant to every Jew.

1. "You can't begin a journey if you don't know where you are going." Even when you are still on a lower level, the knowledge of what you are working to eventually achieve on the higher levels still has a major impact.
2. Spiritual growth is usually uneven. There are always some areas in which we are stronger than in other areas. Thus, it is possible that while a person may have only achieved the first or second level in most regards, he is nevertheless on level 5 or 6 in certain specific areas. A person should not restrict his spiritual growth in stronger areas while he waits for his weakest areas to "catch up". On the contrary, it is often the case that as one improves in one area, other areas tend to be "drawn along" and improve as well.
3. It is important for us to understand what true spirituality is, so that we will be able to recognize it (or its absence) in the people around us. Even if we have not achieved the highest levels described in Mesillas Yesharim, if we study them we will at least be able to recognize such greatness when we encounter it in another person, and we will also be able to recognize its absence in those who put on false pretenses of holiness.

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Originally written in response to a question on an on-line forum.

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Shemos - A Man Married a Woman...

In Parshas Shemos the Torah tells us the story of the birth of Moses, the savior of the Jewish people; the man who would lead them out of Egyptian slavery, who would bring them to a national revelation at Mt. Sinai, and who would lead them for forty years in the wilderness, teaching them God's Torah. The man whom, the Torah tells us, was both the humblest man and the greatest prophet of all time.

We would expect that this account would be one of drama and miracles, yet the Torah tells us the story in the simplest of possible terms (Exodus 2:1-2):

And a man of the house of Levi went and married a daughter of Levi. And the woman conceived, and bore a son....

A man married a woman and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. A more ordinary story could not be told.

Yet, in reality, the Sages tell us that there was a great deal of drama to this story. Moses was not from an ordinary Levite family. As the Torah tells us (Exodus 6:20), Moses was the son of Amram, the grandson of Levi and, the Sages tell us, the leader of the generation, and Jochebed, a daughter of Levi. Amram and Jochebed had been previously married (as we know from the fact that Moses had two older siblings, Aaron and Miriam), but in the face of the decree to cast all male children into the river, Amram had separated from her, and his example had been followed by the rest of the Jewish people. The Sages tell us that this continued until Miriam, Amram's daughter, said to her father, "Your decree is worse than Pharaoh's! For Pharaoh has decreed only against the males, but you have decreed on both the males and the females!" Amram accepted this criticism and remarried Jochebed. As R' Samson Raphael Hirsch writes:

R' Samson Raphael Hirsch

In such times courage was required to become a father or a mother. So it does not say, ויהי איש מבית לוי ויקח וגו' ("And there was a man from the house of Levi that married...") but וילך וגו' ("And he went..."). In this וילך lies the whole great resolution that was necessary for taking such a step.

Note further, that it does not say, ויקח בת לוי ("and he took a daughter of Levi") but ויקח את בת לוי ("and he took the daughter of Levi"), i.e. one who was already definitely known. In any case we know from the sequel that when this occurred, the couple had been married previously. A sister was already there and this sister had already a brother. All this tells us what our Sages say, viz. that this was not their first marriage, but that a man who had separated from his wife in consideration of the King's cruel order, made up his mind to take her back again to oppose this order.

Yet, despite this, the Torah tells us the story in exceptionally sparse and simple terms. We are not even told the names of the parents, only their tribe. Why does the Torah do this?

In his commentary on the Torah, Rabbi Joseph H. Hertz (d.1946) writes:

The explicit language in these two verses brings out an important characteristic of Judaism. In other religions, the founders are represented as of supernatural birth. Not so in Judaism. Even Moses is human as to birth, as also in regard to death (Deut. 34:5).

R' Hertz sees in the simple and straightforward language of the Torah an apparently simple lesson that is actually of profound importance. Judaism emphasizes the human nature of its founders and leaders, and does not see this as in any way diminishing their stature. An "ordinary" child of "ordinary" parents can grow up to reach the highest levels of spirituality. (This point is also made, and developed at some length, by R' Yaakov Kamenetsky in Emes L'Yakov.)

Rav Zalman Sorotzkin (d.1966) sees a related idea in the omission of the names of the parents. If the Torah had stated their names at this point, we might have thought that Amram and Jochebed were somehow predestined to be the parents of the savior of the Jewish people. By omitting the names, however, the Torah teaches us that any righteous Jewish man can be the father, and any righteous Jewish woman the mother, of the savior of the Jewish people.

The Torah tells us the story of Moses' birth in these simple terms, "a man of the house of Levi went and married a daughter of Levi", to teach us to recognize the significance of a Jewish man and woman coming together in marriage and raising a family. To teach us that, ultimately, every Jewish family has the ability to bring about the salvation of the Jewish people.

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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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Vayigash - The Joy of Jacob

In Parshas Vayigash we read of the meeting, after a separation of many years, between Joseph and his father Jacob. The Torah states (Genesis 46:29):

ויאסר יוסף מרכבתו ויעל לקראת ישראל אביו גשנה וירא אליו ויפל על צואריו ויבך על צואריו עוד

Joseph harnessed his chariot and went up to greet his father, Israel, in Goshen, and he appeared before him and fell on his neck and cried for a long while.

It is hard for us to imagine the incredible sense of joy that Jacob must have experienced at this time, finally seeing his beloved son, whom he had thought dead for many years, and finding him to be not only alive and well, but a father and the ruler of the land of Egypt! Yet, in the description of the meeting, we find that it was Joseph who fell upon Jacob and cried, but Jacob is not described as doing anything at all!

Rashi explains:

יעקב לא נפל על צוארי יוסף ולא נשקו, ואמרו רבותינו, שהיה קורא את שמע:

Jacob did not fall upon the neck of Joseph, and did not kiss him. Our Sages say that he was reciting the Shema.

R' Yehoshua Leib Diskin

Why was Jacob reciting the Shema at such a time? R' Yehoshua Leib Diskin (d.1898) explains (חידושי מהרי"ל דיסקין עה"ת) that when Jacob experienced the extraordinary feeling of love and joy upon seeing his son, he immediately sanctified that love by using it for the love of God, as expressed in the Shema when we say (Deuteronomy 6:5), "ואהבת את ה' אלקיך בכל לבבך ובכל נפשך ובכל מאדך" - "And you shall love Hashem your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your might."

R' Yehoshua Leib Diskin's son, R' Yitzchak Yerucham Diskin (d.1925), expanded on this idea by pointing out that the basic theme of the Shema is the absolute unity of God. This means that God is the only power in the universe, and nothing happens - good or bad - outside of His control. This idea is in fundamental conflict with those worldviews that believe that good and bad come from separate powers, an idea that was basic to ancient paganism (and which still exists, in various forms, in modern times).

Thus, when Jacob finally met his son, and was able to see how all the suffering that he had experienced until now from the loss of his son had ultimately been for the benefit of his family, he attained a new level of recognition of God's dominion, and how there is no true distinction between what we perceive as good and what we perceive as bad. Thus, at that point he was inspired to recite the Shema and declare:

שמע ישראל ה' אלקינו ה' אחד

Hear O Israel, Hashem is our God, Hashem is One!

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Moshiach ben Yosef

The concept of Moshiach ben Yosef (literally, "the anointed son of Joseph"), while not a major concept, is well-established in Judaism, being mentioned in many sources, including the Talmud. At the same time, like many of the more esoteric ideas surrounding the coming of the messiah, it is a very obscure concept and open to a wide range of interpretations. Unlike the belief in Moshiach ben David, which is a core principle of Judaism and has a clear legal definition, the concept of Moshiach ben Yosef is agadic, i.e. non-legal, and it can be understood to be entirely allegorical or as only one of several possible courses of events in the coming of the messiah.

Virtually all sources see Moshiach ben Yosef as a (possible) precursor to Moshiach ben David. Thus, for example, Rav Saadia Gaon (Emunos v'Deos 8) presents Moshiach ben Yosef as a necessary precursor to Moshiach ben David only if the Jewish people have not yet repented.

Many sources appear to view Moshiach ben Yosef as referring primarily to an early stage of the redemption in which events will take place in a non-miraculous manner, to be replaced ultimately by the coming of Moshiach ben David, when the redemption will be completed through miraculous events. (This appears to be the view of the Vilna Gaon presented in the work, Kol HaTor.) Many of the sources that discuss Moshiach ben Yosef in detail (like Kol HaTor) are heavily kabbalistic, so interpretation by a layman like myself is difficult. One of the areas that is often unclear in many of these sources is whether the concept of Moshiach ben Yosef needs to be associated with an identifiable human being, or if it can be understood simply as a symbolic term for the earlier stages in the redemption, or possibly some middle ground, such as the righteous in each generation who teach and guide the people, preparing them for the ultimate redemption.

Rav Kook

Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook (d.1935) famously (and controversially) identified the secular Zionist movement with Moshiach ben Yosef, who is to lay the groundwork for the true redemption and then die and be replaced by Moshiach ben David. It is difficult to say how Rav Kook would have viewed the secular State of Israel , but he might well have extended this identification to the State as well.

In short, there is no single, straightforward interpretation of the Moshiach ben Yosef concept; rather there is a range of ideas, all of which are tentative. This is true of many of the details of the process of the coming of the redemption, we will not know what these prophecies and teachings really mean until after the event.

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Originally written in response to a question on an on-line forum.

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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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On Ambiguities in Jewish History - A Correspondence with a Concerned Reader

I recently received an e-mail from a reader, Chanie, who was legitimately concerned about an aspect of an earlier post of mine. With her permission, I am sharing our brief correspondence (slightly edited), as I believe it touches upon an important issue with regard to our understanding of history in general, and Jewish history in particular:

Hi, First of all, great blog - I always look forward to your posts and the insights they bring to light. With regard to your post on how the Chanukah revolt began - you quote a Midrash that states: "When her brothers saw this, they were ashamed, they turned their faces to the ground, tore their clothes, and they got up to kill her." What a horrific story - it sounds exactly like the honor killings we condemn the Muslims for carrying out. How could the Maccabees, whom we hold up as heroes, have been so ready to kill their sister?

I responded:

Dear Chanie, Thank you very much for contacting me. I am always grateful to hear from appreciative readers (or any readers at all, actually). The question you asked about the passage I quoted is certainly a good one. The truth is that the same thing has always bothered me, and when I originally posted it I was tempted to edit that little bit out. I don't have a ready explanation for how they could have thought that it would be proper to kill their sister under such circumstances. Of course, one of the main problems is that we are dealing here with a minor midrash, or, perhaps more accurately, a midrashic fragment (the entire midrash is at most a couple pages long), of unknown provenance. Asides from the fact that such midrashim have no commentaries whatsoever (which is a big problem), they are often simply unreliable. Even if the basic narrative is true, we have no way of knowing to what degree the story has been modified or embellished by unknown hands over the centuries. In this case, I suspect the idea that the brothers got up to - literally - kill her (assuming the midrash is, in fact, intended to be taken literally on that point, and it isn't simply an exaggeration)  was an embellishment from a later author intended to bring out the ironic point made by the female character: "You are so filled with zealous rage for my minor infraction, yet you will give me over to that uncircumcised Gentile to be raped?!" I suspect that in the original version of the story, the brothers probably didn't do much at all, beyond yelling at her to put her clothes back on. Perhaps they got up to take her away where no one could see her. (I mean, what do you do when your sister strips naked at her wedding??) In fact, after receiving your e-mail I looked into it a bit more, and there actually is an alternate version of the story where the bride doesn't strip naked, but simply dresses herself in rags, with the intent of provoking the governor to kill her (because she is supposed to show up in her wedding finery), and the bride's family expresses embarrassment that she is dressed in such a manner at her wedding, to which she responds with the same basic speech, which, in turn, inspires the revolution. This version makes the same basic point as the one I posted, but it lacks much of the drama that makes the story so memorable. Of course, it is possible that this version is also modified, perhaps in order to be more palatable to our sensibilities. It is impossible to know. So, I guess my answer is that when dealing with sources of this sort, you just have to know how to take the good and discard the bad. As someone who has a long-standing interest in material of this sort, I pretty much do this automatically, but I need to bear in mind that most people don't. I really appreciate your taking the trouble to contact me about this. A freilichen Chanukah, Lazer Abrahamson

 Chanie replied:

Thanks so much for your quick and thorough response - I really appreciate your taking the time! And thanks for your candor - it's a bit frustrating not knowing what really happened, but your explanation is one I can live with. Just to clarify another point - so the story of Yehudis probably didn't happen? Is there any basis for combining the stories as this site suggests ? Best, Chanie

I replied:

One of the most basic lessons that I have learned in my studies of, primarily Jewish, history, is that the real world is messy. It is human nature to look for patterns in history - and current events - that have structure, with a clear cast of characters, and a clear beginning, middle, and end. Basically, the kind of structure that we look for in fiction. But reality isn't really like that, at least not on a level that we are able to perceive with our very limited knowledge of events. This truth is often missed by people, especially intelligent people, who instinctively try to "make sense" out of events, both current and historical. (At its most extreme, this kind of thinking can lead to conspiracy theories, a large part of whose appeal is their apparent "explanatory" power, or to radical "revisionism", where basic historical realities are denied (as in Holocaust denial).) Even professional historians, who ought to know better, often fall prey to this kind of thinking, especially when it fits in with preexisting biases. This is true even for modern history, despite the fact that we have often have direct access to eyewitnesses and modern records.When it comes to ancient history the situation is far worse. There is so much information that has been lost over time, and so much information that has been distorted and changed, that it is usually simply impossible to reliably reconstruct the exact details of events. The story of Judith - and the other stories of female heroes associated with Chanuka - are almost certainly built upon actual historical events. In fact, it is quite possible, arguably even likely, that there were several separate stories, involving different women, that over the ages evolved into the two or three basic narratives that we have today. However, untangling the exact details is probably impossible. Strictly speaking, I have no problem with telling over these stories as part of our tradition, being that they are certainly based on reality. (As opposed to the silliness about the ancient Jewish children playing dreidle in the woods, which is up there with Haman's triangular hat as pure fiction), but I think it is important for adults to at least be aware that the exact details of such stories are far from clear. I hope this is helpful. All the best, Lazer Abrahamson

Chanie replied:

Re: stories in Jewish history and looking for completion - I never thought about it that way. I hear you, I guess we do like things nice and tidy, but I agree that intellectual honesty is preferable to fairy tales, so thanks for being straightforward. Looking forward to future posts!

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