Tetzaveh - The Hidden Name of Moses

Many commentators note that despite the fact that he is present throughout the portion, the name of Moses is not mentioned in Parshas Tetzaveh. The best known answer to this question is provided by the Baal HaTurim:

לא הזכיר משה בזה הסדר, מה שאין כן בכל החומש, שמשעה שנולד משה אין סדר שלא הוזכר בה. והטעם משום שאמר מחני נא מספרך אשר כתבת, וקללת חכם אפילו על תנאי באה, ונתקיים בזה.

The name of Moses is not mentioned in this portion, unlike the rest of the Pentateuch, where, from the moment that Moses was born, there is no portion that does not mention him. The reason for this is because (when Moses prayed to God that he should forgive the Jewish people for the sin of the golden calf) he said, "[And now, if You will forgive their sin--, and if not] erase me from Your book which You have written." (Exodus 32:32), and [there is a principle (Talmud, Makkos 11a) that] the curse of a chacham (wise person) is fulfilled, even if it is conditional. [The curse] was fulfilled in this (i.e. the omission of his name from this portion).

The Vilna Gaon

The question that remains, however, is why God chose to omit the name of Moses specifically from Parshas Tetzaveh, especially being that Tetzaveh precedes the verse in which Moses asked to be "erased" from the Torah.  The Vilna Gaon, R' Eliyhau of Vilna, famously explained (הובא בספר קהלת יצחק עה"ת) that God chose Parshas Tetzaveh for this purpose because the seventh of Adar, the yahrtzeit (anniversary of the passing) of Moses, almost always occurs the week of Parshas Tetzaveh.

Moreover, the Vilna Gaon continues, there are 101 verses in Parshas Tetzaveh. This number is equivalent to the numerical value of the "hidden" portion of Moses' name. Most of us are familiar with the concept of gematria, the idea that Hebrew words have numerical values. The "hidden", or nistar, value of a word is calculated by spelling out each letter in full, and calculating the value of the additional letters. For example, the letter 'א is spelled in full as אל"ף, thus the "hidden" letters of 'א are ל"ף, with the numerical value of 110 (the full value of the letter 'א is 111). The name of Moses is משה. The letter 'מ is spelled מ"ם.  The letter 'ש is spelled שי"ן.  The letter 'ה is spelled ה"א. The hidden portion of Moses' name is therefore מינ"א) 101).

Thus, even though Moses's name is not mentioned explicitly in Parsha Tetzaveh, in reality it is still there in a hidden form. The Vilna Gaon explains that this is intended to teach us that even though Moses is no longer with us physically, his inner spiritual essence is still with us in the form of the Torah that he taught us and the great deeds of righteousness that he performed.

Perhaps we can expand on this idea in connection to Purim. Just as Moses is not mentioned in Parshas Tetzaveh, the name of God is not mentioned in the book of Esther! The Talmud (Chullin 139b) tells us that God hid His face in the days of Esther, and through the entire megilla we do not read of a single super-natural event. The lesson of Megillas Esther is that we must recognize God's miracles and providence even in what appear to be ordinary events. Even when we cannot perceive God openly, we must always know that He is still with us.

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Teruma - You Only Have What You Give

With Parshas Teruma, the Torah begins to discuss the the construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle). This is the main topic of the remainder of the book of Exodus. The parsha opens with God telling Moses to instruct the people to donate materials for the Mishkan (Exodus 25:1-2):

וידבר ה' אל משה לאמר: דבר אל בני ישראל ויקחו לי תרומה מאת כל איש אשר ידבנו לבו תקחו את תרומתי:

And God spoke to Moses, saying: "Speak to the children of Israel, and they shall take to Me a portion; from every man whose heart is willing you shall take My portion."

Many commentaries note the rather odd phrasing of "ויקחו לי" - literally, "and they shall take to Me" - rather than the more conventional, "ויתנו לי" - "and they shall give to Me" - and they provide a variety of explanations. Many see in this phrasing an allusion to the idea that, ultimately, the only true acquisitions that we possess are the good deeds that we perform in our lives.

Thus, when the Torah speaks of the Jewish people donating their material wealth to God's service, does not say,  "ויתנו" - "and they shall give to Me," for we cannot truly give anything to God, for both we and our possessions are already in His possession, as the verse states, "The earth and that which fills it is God's; the world, and they who dwell in it." (Psalms 24:1) Instead the Torah uses the phrase,  "ויקחו" - "and they shall take" - alluding to the idea that it is only by giving to God that we truly "acquire" for ourselves.

The Chasam Sofer

The Chasam Sofer (R' Moshe Sofer, d.1839) expands further on this idea, noting that if everything already belongs to God, so that we are not truly donating anything to Him in the first place, then there is no merit inherent in the donation in of itself. Rather, the merit of the donation is rooted in our attitude towards the donation. When we give of our possessions to God, the only actual share we have in the donation is the joy and good-will that we feel in the donation. This is why the verse states, "from every man whose heart is willing you shall take My portion" - for it is the willing heart that is the true gift to God.

As should be self-evident, this principle applies to far more than the donation of material wealth. In reality, everything we have, including our very lives and strength, belongs to God. In every mitzva, the true merit is in the attitude with which we perform the mitzva. In his commentary on Psalms (חומת אנ"ך, תהלים ק:ב), the Chida (R' Chaim Yosef David Azulay, d.1807) makes an analogy to the relationship between a slave and his master. While a good and kind master will certainly reward his slaves for obedient service, strictly speaking he is under no obligation to do so. As such, any such reward is fundamentally an unearned gift. Similarly, we cannot truly speak of earning reward for simple obedience to God, because everything we do, we do with that which He has given us. The only truly earned reward is the reward for serving God with joy and love.

The Chida writes that this is the meaning of the verse, "Serve God with happiness; come before Him with singing." (Psalms 100:2) Only by serving God with joy can we merit to ultimately come before Him, not as beggars asking for a handout or slaves asking for a gift, but as self-respecting beings that have an actual claim to their earned reward.

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Mishpatim - Our Spiritual Struggles are the Purpose of Our Existence

At the end of Parshas Mishpatim, the Torah returns to the narrative of the Sinai Revelation. (The commentaries debate whether the events described in Exodus 24 took place before or after the revelation of the Aseres Hadibros (Ten Commandments) described in Parshas Yisro.) It is here we find the famous declaration of the Jewish people (Exodus 24:7), "All that God has spoke, we shall do and we shall hear."

Maimonides

Two verses previously, the Torah states, "And he (Moses) sent the youths of the children of Israel and they brought up elevation-offerings and they slaughtered oxen as peace-offerings to God." This was the final step in sealing the covenant of kabalas haTorah - the receiving of the Torah - in which the Jewish people converted to Judaism. As Maimonides writes (Hil. Issurei Biah 13):

Israel entered the covenant through three things: Circumcision, immersion [in a mikva], and korban (a sacrifice). The circumcision took place in Egypt, as it states (Exodus 12:48), "And no uncircumcised man eat of it (the Paschal lamb)." ... Immersion was performed in the wilderness before the Giving of the Torah, as it says (19:10), "Sanctify them today and tomorrow  and they shall wash their clothing." And the korban, as it says, ""And he sent the youths of the children of Israel and they brought up elevation-offerings." They made these sacrifices on behalf of all Israel.

The Giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai was what made the Jewish people Jewish; it was their conversion to Judaism, and it serves as the model for all later conversion. As Maimonides continues:

And so it is for [future] generations, when a non-Jew wishes to enter the covenant and shelter beneath the wings of the Shechina and he accepts upon himself the yoke of the Torah, he requires circumcision, immersion, and offering a korban. If she is a woman, she requires [only] immersion and a korban. For the Torah says (Numbers 15:15), "As for you, so for the convert," [meaning] just as you required circumcision, immersion, and the offering of a korban, a convert in [future] generations will also require circumcision, immersion, and the offering of a korban. ... And in our time, when we cannot bring korbanos, a convert requires circumcision and immersion, and when the Temple is built he will bring his korban. 

This event was the highest pinnacle of spiritual achievement in the history of the Jewish people. The Talmud (Shabbos 88a) tell us that when the Jewish people declared, "We shall do and we shall hear", six hundred thousand  angels came and set two crowns upon each Jewish man. Yet, just forty days later, the Jewish people sinned with the golden calf, and, the Talmud continues, they lost those crowns that they had earned only a short time before. Ultimately, despite the powerful and transformative experience of their conversion, the Jewish people were still subject to the same challenges and temptations that they had been subject to before they underwent their conversion.

If this was true even for the Jewish nation at Sinai, it is certainly true for converts of later generations. Despite the fact that conversion definitely effects a fundamental spiritual change in the spiritual makeup of the convert, the convert nevertheless retains the same basic personality, with the same spiritual challenges and difficulties that he had before his conversion. Indeed, earlier in this parsha (23:9), we are commanded, "Do not oppress a stranger (i.e. a convert); you know the nature of a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt." Rashi comments (based on Bava Metzia 59b):

בהרבה מקומות הזהירה תורה על הגר, מפני שסורו רע

The Torah admonishes in many places regarding [afflicting] the convert, because his original nature is bad (and he is therefore more likely to abandon the Torah - Gur Aryeh).

As should be self-evident, this does not mean that converts are inherently "bad" people. There are innumerable sources that speak of the great virtues of converts (including the medrash upon which I based the name of this blog). The point is that, just as that first generation of Jews faced exceptional challenges because of their background in Egypt, a convert also faces spiritual challenges that are far more difficult that those faced by someone who was born a Jew, and we are required to bear this in mind when we interact with a convert. It is also of vital importance for those who mentor converts to be sure to make this clear to a potential convert. It is all too easy for a potential convert to imagine that his conversion will transform him into a new reborn being, without the challenges and difficulties that he had before conversion. This is simply a falsehood, and only sets the convert up for a sense of failure and rejection when it inevitably fails to come true.

The truth is that this principle is relevant not just for converts, but for every Jew. We all face spiritual challenges with which we struggle and we are taught that God helps us in our struggles with the yetzer hara (evil inclination), as in the famous Talmudic passage (Yoma 38b), "בא לטהר מסייעין אותו" - "one who comes to be purified, they (i.e. Heavenly forces) help him." We are even supposed to pray to God for such help, and we find such prayers in the traditional prayer services. People sometimes misunderstand these teachings to mean that if they just try hard enough, at some point God will simply take their yetzer hara away from them. The reality, however, is that God does not - ever - directly change us for the better. As Maimonides states in Moreh Nevuchim (III:32): 

The nature of man is never changed by God by way of miracle.... it has never never been His will to do it and it never will be. If it were part of His will to change the nature of any person, the mission of the prophets and the giving of the Law would have been altogether superfluous.

The sources that describe God's help in our struggles with temptation are telling us only that if a person has truly reached the limits of his ability - so that he literally no longer has the ability to resist succumbing to sin - then God will give him the strength to continue the struggle. God helps us with our struggle, by giving us the strength to keep fighting, but the struggle itself is ultimately entirely our responsibility  and it will end only when we pass on to the next world. (See my previous discussion of this concept: Va'eira - The Hardening of Pharaoh's Heart.)

The Baal Shem Tov ('ספר הבעש"ט לך לך ג) is quoted as saying in the name R' Saadia Gaon, כי עיקר בריאת האדם בעוה"ז הוא לשבר מדות רעות שלו הטבעיות - "The primary purpose for the creation of man in this world is for him to break his natural bad characteristics." The struggle to overcome our natural, inborn urges is the primary purpose of our existence. It is the reason why we are here in this world.

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Yisro - Torah as the Measure of a Jew

What does it mean to be a Jew? When I describe myself as a Jew, what does that really mean?

It is readily apparent that none of the normal categories for group identification (e.g. ethnicity, race, nationality) really fit the Jewish people. It might be tempting to define a “Jew” as an adherent to the religion known as “Judaism”, but, while religion is certainly an important aspect of Jewish identity, such a definition doesn’t really work either.

This question is not simply theoretical. A Jew has an obligation to identify with the Jewish people. As we have discussed previously, the Sages tell us that there were "wicked" and "sinful" Jews who died during the plague of darkness. What was so wicked and sinful about these Jews? We are told only this: That they were comfortable in Egypt and did not wish to leave. Their sin was that they had separated themselves from the community, and did not see themselves as an inseparable part of the Jewish people.

This raises an obvious and critical question. What does it actually mean, in practical terms, to be part of the Jewish people? As we see from the fate of these Egyptian Jews, a large part of it is that we are required to identify with other Jews and to see our fates as inextricably intertwined, so that what is "good for the Jews" is good for us, and what is "bad for the Jews" is bad for us. Thus, Chazal teach us, "אל תפרוש מן הצבור" - "Do not separate from the community,” which means 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. Indeed, we are taught that one who separates from the community when it is suffering will not merit to see the community's deliverance.

However, while it is clear that a Jew is obligated to identify with the Jewish people, and to bear the burdens of the community, this alone does not really answer our question. After all, people can disagree on what is and what is not "good for the Jews." We can be sure that many of the Jews that wished to remain in Egypt honestly believed that remaining in Egypt was "good for the Jews." Instead of just giving up on Egypt, they believed that the Jewish people should be using the opportunity provided by the plagues to fight for full civil rights as Egyptian citizens. To these people, remaining in Egypt – the center of civilization – was "good for the Jews", while running off to conquer some insignificant backwater was obviously "bad for the Jews."

Even if we think they were wrong, why did simply having this opinion make them "wicked" and "sinful"? These Jews didn't see themselves as turning their back on their people. On the contrary, they sincerely believed that their approach was in the best interests of the Jewish people. What made their opinion so invalid that not only was it wrong, but it essentially cut them off from the Jewish nation?

The root of the problem was that Moses, the prophet of God, had made it very clear that the God wanted the Jewish people out of Egypt. That should have been the end of the debate. If God wants us out, then clearly that is what is "good for the Jews." So, regardless of their intent, their opinion was one that was in conflict with God’s vision of the purpose of the Jewish people.

Identifying with the Jewish people cannot be separated from the recognition that the Jewish people are the chosen people of God to whom He has revealed His intent through His Torah and His prophets. The Jewish people are not a nation like other nations; rather we are a "kingdom of priests and a holy nation." We are the "children of God", His "first-born son", and any identification with the Jewish people that fails to include these factors is as false as it would be for a brother to insist on his familial relationship with his siblings while denying his connection to their father.

Rav Saadia Gaon famously wrote (Emunos v’Deos 3:7), אומותינו איננה אומה כי אם בתורותיה – “Our nation is only a nation through its Torah.” The Torah is what truly binds us together and it is the reason for our existence as a nation. We express this recognition every morning when we recite the Birchos HaTorah (Blessings on the Torah) in which we declare:

ברוך אתה ה' אלקינו מלך העולם אשר בחר בנו מכל העמים ונתן לנו את תורתו. ברוך אתה ה' נותן התורה

Blessed are You, Hashem, our God, King of the universe, Who chose us from among all the nations and gave us His Torah. Blessed are You, Hashem, Who gives the Torah.

R’ Samson Raphael Hirsch explains (Siddur, p.9):

From the very beginning, His purpose in electing us was to give us His Torah, to make us its bearers, students, and executors (Exodus 3:12). Our entire historical significance among the nations stands and falls by the manner in which we cultivate and cherish the Torah in our midst. Should we ever cease to know the Torah, or to fulfill it, we should also cease to have a place among mankind.

The Torah is the core of all true Jewish identity. To truly identify as a Jew means to recognize the Torah as the purpose of our existence and, as in R’ Hirsch’s words, to "cultivate and cherish the Torah in our midst." It is this that is the true measure of one’s identity as a Jew.

R' Elchonon Wasserman

R’ Elchonon Wasserman once wrote (Daas Torah):

דער ריכטיגער באַראָמעטער אין אידישקייט, וויפיעל גראַד אידישקייט יעדער האָט, זאָל באַטראַכטען ווי איז זיין באַציהונג צו תורה: צו ער לערענט אַליין, צו ער גיט זיינע קינדער צום לערנען, און צו ער איז מחזיק תורה.

The true barometer of Judaism with which to measure a person’s level of Jewishness is a person’s relationship with the Torah: Does he study Torah himself? Does he send his children to study? And does he support Torah study?

To identify as a Jew requires much more than simply the mere assertion of such an identity, no matter how strongly felt. It requires a genuine commitment to what the Jewish nation actually is: God’s kingdom of priests, who heard the voice of God at Mt. Sinai and received His Torah.

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Science and Creation

This is a video of a presentation I made a few years ago to middle school students at an Orthodox Jewish day school discussing how to think about the apparent conflicts between our current scientific understanding of the age of the universe and the traditional Jewish understanding of the Torah.

 

 As usual, all comments and criticisms are welcome.

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Beshalach - The Beautification of Mitzvos

In the Song of the Sea, Moses and the Jewish people sang (Exodus 15:2), "זה א-לי ואנוהו" - "This is my God and I shall glorify Him!" Based on this verse, the Talmud (Shabbos 133b) teaches that we have an obligation to perform mitzvos in a beautiful manner:

זה אלי, ואנוהו - התנאה לפניו במצותֹ עשה לפניו סוכה נאה, ולולב נאה, ושופר נאה, ציצית נאה, ספר תורה נאה וכתוב בו לשמו בדיו נאה, בקולמוס נאה, בלבלר אומן וכורכו בשיראין נאין.

"This is my God, and I will glorify Him." - Be beautiful before Him with the mitzvos. Make before Him a beautiful sukkah, [use] a beautiful lulav, a beautiful shofar, beautiful tzitzis, and a beautiful Torah scroll, and write it for His sake with beautiful ink, with a beautiful reed, and with a skilled scribe, and wrap it with beautiful silks.

This is the concept of hiddur mitzva - the beautification of a mitzva. The Ramchal discusses this concept at some length in Mesillas Yesharim, citing this Talmudic passage (and other relevant passages) and expanding on this idea:

הרי דעת שפתותיהם ז"ל ברור מללו, שאין די בעשות המצוה לבד, אלא שצריך לכבדה ולהדרה. ולהוציא ממי שלהקל על עצמו יאמר אין הכבוד אלא לבני האדם המתפתים בהבלים אלה, אך הקב"ה אינו חושש לזה, כי הוא מרומם מדברים האלה ונשגב מהם, וכיון שהמצוה נעשית לאמתה די בזה, אמנם האמת הוא שהאדון ברוך הוא נקרא אל הכבוד, ואנו חייבים לכבדו, אע"פ שאינו צריך לכבודנו ולא כבודנו חשוב וספון לפניו, ומי שממעט בזה במקום שהיה יכול להרבות, אינו אלא חוטא.

Thus, the opinion of the Sages is very clear, that is not sufficient to simply do the mitzva alone, but it is necessary to honor and glorify it. This is a rejection of the opinion of one who, wishing to be lenient for himself, says that honor is only for human beings, who are seduced by such vanities, but God has no interest in this, for He is exalted far above such matters. Therefore, [he argues,] it is sufficient that the mitzva is simply fulfilled correctly. However, the truth is that God is called (Psalms 29:3) the "God of glory", and we are obligated to honor Him, even though He has no need for our glorification, and our glorification is of no real significance before Him.One who minimizes [his beautification of the mitzvos] when he has the ability to do more is simply a sinner.

The Ramchal then goes on to quote many additional sources that demonstrate the importance of this concept. But, while all of these sources clearly demonstrate that the sinner's argument is indeed false, they never really address the question of why his argument is incorrect. Why isn't it sufficient to simply fulfill the mitzvos precisely as they are commanded? Why is there an obligation to beautify the mitzvos?

Perhaps a hint to the answer can be found in a passage from Maimonides, when he concludes his discussion of the laws of acceptable oils for the meal offerings in the Holy Temple (Hil. Issurei HaMizbei'ach 7:11):

ומאחר שכולן כשרין למנחות למה נמנו, כדי לידע יפה שאין למעלה ממנו והשוה והפחות שהרוצה לזכות עצמו יכוף יצרו הרע וירחיב ידו ויביא קרבנו מן היפה המשובח ביותר שבאותו המין שיביא ממנו, הרי נאמר בתורה והבל הביא גם הוא מבכורות צאנו ומחלביהן וישע י"י אל הבל ואל מנחתו, והוא הדין בכל דבר שהוא לשם האל הטוב שיהיה מן הנאה והטוב, אם בנה בית תפלה יהיה נאה מבית ישיבתו, האכיל רעב יאכיל מן הטוב והמתוק שבשולחנו, כסה ערום יכסה מן היפה שבכסותו, הקדיש דבר יקדיש מן היפה שבנכסיו וכן הוא אומר כל חלב ליי' וגו'.

If they (i.e. kinds of oil) are all valid for the menachos (meal offerings), then why did [the Sages] rank them? So that one can know which is the very best, which are of equal status, and which are inferior. For one who wishes to earn merit should subdue his evil inclination and open his hands wide and bring an offering from the very finest and best of the species that he is bringing. For, behold, it says in the Torah (Genesis 4:4), "And Abel also brought from the from the firstborns of his sheep and from their fats, and God turned to Abel and his offering."

This concept applies to everything that is done for the sake of God, Who is good, that it should be from the finest and the best. When one builds a house of prayer, it should be more beautiful than his house of dwelling. When one feeds the hungry, he should feed them from the best and the tastiest food on his table. When one clothes the naked, cover him with the most beautiful of his garments. When one consecrates an item,he should consecrate the most beautiful of his possessions. And so it says (Leviticus 3:16), "All the fat is God's...."

Maimonides introduces this idea by saying that "one who wishes to earn merit should subdue his evil inclination and open his hands wide." In other words, doing the mitzvos in the most beautiful manner is, fundamentally, about subduing our own nature and changing ourselves for the better. Of course God Himself has no need for glory and honor. In truth, He, in of Himself, has no need for our mitzvos either! The mitzvos were given to us for our benefit. They are what enable us to connect to God.

The same is true for the concept of hiddur mitzva. When we beautify a mitzva, in the same way that we would beautify a gift that we give to someone that we love and respect, we reinforce in our own the minds the reality of God and of our relationship with Him. It is this recognition that is at the core of all Jewish spirituality.

Perhaps this explains why the Talmud finds this concept alluded to in this particular verse, which describes the amazing spiritual revelation that the Jewish people experienced at the splitting of the Red Sea. How can we, today, in any way grasp what it means to declare, "This is my God!" - when "this" refers to a direct spiritual experience? Perhaps the answer is that when we sincerely perform the mitzvos, not as formal legal obligations, but as expressions of a genuine loving relationship, with all the love and honor that we put into our most valued human relationships, then we too can eventually come to experience the personal relationship with God expressed in the statement, "This is my God!"

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The Weberman Conviction and Torah Justice

For most people who are aware of the case, the recent conviction of the child rapist, Nechemya Weberman, has come as a welcome sign that, even in the most insular of our communities, those who are willing to step forward and fight for what is right, can hope to see justice done, and - even more importantly - remove these violent predators from our midst.

Unfortunately, while the conviction itself was a good thing, there is also much about the case that is deeply discouraging. The fact that the leadership of Weberman's community came out aggressively in his support, even after it was absolutely clear that his behavior had long been in violation of halacha, indicates an almost willful blindness in many quarters with regard to this issue that is deeply disturbing.

That being said, I do not see myself as competent to discuss the communal aspects of this issue, which have been covered by far abler people than myself. I am also not going to address the issue of mesira, i.e. the prohibition against informing on a Jew to non-Jewish authorities. The poskim have already stated that the prohibition against mesirah does not apply to cases of abuse, whether physical or sexual. (For a full discussion, see Nishmat Avraham, vol. 3, ch. 18.)

What I wish to discuss here is a technical issue dealing with the question of the justice of Weberman's conviction from a Torah perspective. Throughout the course of the court case, I have come across the claim that from a Torah perspective the entire case is invalid, as the evidence against Weberman does not meet the standards of Jewish law. On the surface, this question, which I have encountered several times, seems to be valid. After all, one of the most basic concepts of Jewish law is that one can only be convicted for a crime when there are two eyewitnesses to the actual event. Circumstantial evidence and second-hand testimony are invalid. In general, Torah law describes a criminal justice system that is very heavily biased towards acquittal  So how can we support the conviction of Weberman when, it is argued, according to Torah law he would certainly not have been convicted him for anything?

While this might appear to be valid question, it is based on a critically flawed understanding of the reality of Jewish law as it was actually practiced when the Jewish people lived under Torah law. This issue is discussed at length in the Drashos HaRan (Rabbeinu Nissim, 14th century) in Drasha 11. The Ran points out that in a Torah society, the criminal justice system must serve two distinct functions, which can often be in tension with each other.

The first function of the Torah's criminal justice system is ישוב המדינה (yishuv hamedina), i.e. to provide a stable society in which people can function without fear of violence from others.

The second function of the Torah's criminal justice system is to enforce the laws of the Torah, as they are, regardless of the apparent utility of those laws from a yishuv hamedina perspective.

Most of the time, these two functions work together hand in hand. The reality is that the majority of people, in any society (and, hopefully, even more so in a society governed by Torah law), are basically law abiding citizens. Thus, even in the case of a violent crime, it is proper to give the ordinary citizen the benefit of the doubt, even to an unreasonable degree.

However, when applied to human predators, such as career criminals, serial murderers, rapists, and abusers, the simple reality is that this system does not work. If we would apply all the protections that are normally applied to the accused in Torah law, it would be virtually impossible to convict any of these criminals for their crimes. The Ran points this out explicitly:

אם לא יענשו העוברים כי אם על זה הדרך, יפסד הסדור המדיני לגמרי, שיתרבו שופכי דמים ולא יגורו מן העונש!

If law breakers are only punished under these conditions [i.e. the conventional standards of evidence required by Torah law] the order of society will be completely destroyed, for murders will increase and they will have no fear of punishment!

The Ran explains, therefore, that the Jewish criminal justice system actually had two tracks. The primary track, which functioned according to the ideal standards of pure Torah law, was run by the batei din - the Jewish courts that were established in every community. It was this system that the average citizen of the Jewish state interacted with when accused of a crime. Convictions, especially of capital crimes, were extraordinarily unusual under this system.

However, there was another system, which was specifically intended to ensure that true criminals would not be able to take advantage of the leniency of the standard judicial system to shield them from the punishment they deserved. This track was run by the king. Under Jewish law, the king was empowered to punish, and even execute, a criminal based upon his own judgement of what was necessary for the protection of society. The king was not required to follow the conventional laws of evidence that applied to the courts.

Indeed, the Ran points out that the king's power was so great that it was necessary to impose special obligations on him to teach him to restrain himself from abusing that power:

ולפי שכח המלך גדול, איננו משועבד למשפטי התורה כמו השופט, ואם לא יהיה שלם ביראת אלקיו יבוא להפריז על המדות יותר ממה שיתחייב לתקון הכלל, ציוהו שיהיה ספר תורה עמו תמיד... שכשיפריץ על מדות התורה לצורך תקון זמנו, לא תהיה כוונתו לעבור על דברי תורה כלל ולא לפרוק מעליו עול יראת שמים בשום צד, אבל תהיה כוונתו "לשמור את כל דברי התורה הזאת ואת החוקים האלה לעשותם", שבכל מה שיוסיף או יגרע, יכוון כדי שיהיו חוקי התורה ומצוותיה יותר נשמעים, כאשר נאמר על צד המשל, שכשיהרג הורג נפש בלא עדים והתראה, לא תהיה כוונתו להראות ממשלתו לעם שהוא שליט על זה, אבל יכוון בעשותו זה כדי שמצות "לא תרצח" תתקיים יותר ולא יפרצו עליה.

The power of the king is so great - in that he is not obligated to conform to the laws of the Torah like a judge - that if he is not perfect in his fear of God, he may go beyond those principles more than is necessary for the protection of the community. Therefore, he is commanded to always have a Torah scroll with him (Deuteronomy 17:18-19)... [to remind him] that when he goes beyond the principles of the Torah for the necessity of the situation, his intent should not be, in any way, to violate the words of the Torah or to cast off the yoke of fear of Heaven, but his intent should be "to guard all the words of this Torah and these decrees, that they be fulfilled." Whether he adds or detracts, his intent must be that the laws and commandments of the Torah be heeded to a greater degree. Thus, for example, if he executes a murderer without witnesses or warning. his intent must not be to demonstrate his dominion to the people, but his intent in doing this should be that the commandment of "Thou shalt not murder" will be upheld further and not violated.

The Ran also points out that when there is no proper king, as was the case for much of the Second Temple period, this power of the king is transferred to the courts. (See the Rambam, Hil. Sanhedrin 24:4-10, where he describes the extra-legal powers of the courts in detail.)

The point of all of this is that actual Torah law does not give a free pass for any criminal who is clever enough to figure out how to circumvent the - extraordinarily lenient - standards of the conventional Jewish court system. To imagine that this is so, is to imagine that the ancient Jewish government was unable to provide even the most basic protections to its citizens. Under a properly run Jewish government, a predator like Weberman would indeed have been convicted, and likely executed, for his crimes.

The fact that, in our current state of exile, the Jewish community no longer has the ability to protect itself from monsters of this sort and is forced instead to rely on the good graces of an - admittedly imperfect - non-Jewish justice system is indeed a tragedy. However, the fact that, in this case at least, the system worked is something for which we should be deeply grateful.

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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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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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