Terumah: The Mishkan in the Synagogue; Hidden in Plain Sight

I've been told that this post (and my writing in general) would be easier to follow if I avoided tangents, used footnotes, and wrote in standard English.  With all due respect, I'm not here to entertain you, and I'm not changing my style of writing.  If you want to learn something worth knowing, make the effort.


In the forthcoming sections of the Torah, the architecture and layout of the Tabernacle/Mishkan and various types of sacrifices are described at great length. This information seems, to many of us, to be arcane and completely irrelevant to modern life. The fact is, though, that the laws of the Sacrificial Service that was done in the Tabernacle and the Temple pervade the everyday life of the Orthodox Jew. The Torah explicitly links the mortal prohibitions against consuming tallow and blood to the sacrificial service; our daily prayers derive from and correspond to the daily communal sacrificial services in the Mishkan (Berachos 26b); the requirement that we have salt on the table when we eat bread (table is like the altar and salt accompanied all offerings); the prohibition of shatnez/clothing that mixes wool and linen (Chizkuni in Ki Seitzei- made exclusive to bigdei kehuna); the double meal on Shavu'os/Pentecost (OC 494:3 Rama); Birkas Hagomel/the thanksgiving blessing (equivalent of Korban Todah/the Thanksgiving Offering); Kisui Hadam/covering the shechita blood of non-korban species (Ramban and Kli Yakar Vayikra 17:3), we read the section of the Torah that describes the Red Heifer before Passover, just as we used to use it in olden times to prepare for eating the Pesach offering; and-- the architecture of the synagogue, the layout of the Beis HaKnesses.

The Noda B'yehuda (II OC 18) says that there is no 'blueprint' for Synagogues, and one may build an eight-cornered or silo-shaped synagogue. Still, he encourages us to follow our traditions in building Shuls, unless some exigency or compelling logic dictates innovation. Indeed, we find very little direction; the Shulchan Aruch (OC 90) says that a synagogue should, if possible, have twelve windows, for various symbolic reasons, and (OC 150) that the shul should be higher than any residences in the city. (In a slightly different universe, we would be the ones with the steeples.) The Rambam (2 Tefilla 3) says that the Bimah, from which the Torah is read, should be placed in middle so that everyone should be able to hear the Torah reading; the Kesef Mishna (there) says that on that basis, if it is a small Shul, one may place the Bimah anywhere one wants. As we will see, however, it is a mistake to think that traditional synagogue architecture is merely utilitarian with a vague gloss of accreted traditions. It is crystal clear that traditional synagogue architecture reflects, in minute detail, the layout of the Mishkan. The correspondence is specific, exclusive, and indisputable. The entrance, the Bimah upon which the Torah is read, the Amud where the leader of the prayers stands, the Rabbi's seat, the President's seat, the Ner Tamid/eternal light, the Aron Kodesh which contains the Torah, the Paroches/curtain that hangs in front of the Aron Kodesh, and the Ezras Nashim/ladies' section, all are placed precisely to replicate the environment of the Mishkan and the Beis Hamikdash. Our racial memory of the Mikdash Me'aht, the Mishkan in miniature, manipulates our unsuspecting hands.


(Please note: some elements and variations of the description below have been said by others, notably the Chasam Sofer (OC 28) and the Netziv (Meishiv Davar OC 15, where he argues with the Kesef Mishna in 3 Tefilla 11.). The global description, however, is unique to this website, both in scope and in specificity. After reading this, you might feel that what I am saying is self evident. That may be true. Great truths, once uncovered, often seem obvious. The fact remains, though, that to the best of my knowledge, nobody has said this before.
There is a Medrash Rabba (Breishis 53:14) that says Amar Rebbi Binyamin, Hakol bechezkas Sumin ahd sheHakadosh Baruch Hu mei'ir es eineihem," All men are in a state of blindness until Hashem enlightens their eyes. This is an excellent example. Just as Hagar didn't see the well that was right in front of her until Hashem let her see it, once you see it, you wonder why it wasn't obvious before. The answer is that you need siyata dishmaya for ha'aras einaiyim.
The Author, Eliezer Eisenberg, requests proper attribution. At least in the month of Adar, let's try to fulfill the rule we learn {Megilla 15a} from Megillas Esther-- Ha'omer davar be'shem omro meivi ge'ula le'olam- Proper attribution brings redemption to the world.   A word to the wise: our sage's words are intended to be understood Michlal Hein Atta Shomei'a Lahv, negation of the rule does not merely result in no effect, but instead generates the opposite effect.  The failure to properly attribute brings the opposite of redemption.)

Let us visualize what is in front of us when we walk into the Mishkan. Here are simple line drawings of the Mishkan.  I have three here, because readers might prefer one over the other.  The first, which can be enlarged, has two errors:  It places the Golden Altar west of the Menora and Shulchan, when in fact the Menora and Shulchan were west of the Altar, and it is lacking the ramp to the top of the Altar.  The first image is "oriented" in the modern style, with North on top.  The second image is correct, and is drawn in the Traditional style of placing the more relevant direction on top, here being the West, which would be the perspective of a person entering on the East side and proceeding Westward toward the Kodesh Kadashim.  The third image is the best of all, (despite leaving out an entrance) in that it is labeled and correct and enlarge-able.  Note, however, that there are various opinions as to the placement of the copper/brazen/outer altar.  Some place it in middle, some toward the north.
 . 

The length of the Mishkan lies on a East-West axis, and the entrance, whose equivalent in the Temple in Yerushalayim, the Beis Hamikdash, was called the Gate of Nikanor, is on the east side. So we walk in facing west.

We enter the Chatzer, the courtyard.  Directly in front of us, in middle of the Chatzeir, is the Mizbach Hanechoshes, the Copper/Brazen Altar, also called the Mizbach Ha'olah, the Altar used for the burning of most sacrifices, Korbanos. (There are three opinions as to exactly where the Mizbei'ach was; it began on the left and ended at the midline, or it straddled the midline, as in the illustration, or it began at the midline and was itself all on the right/north.) This Mizbei'ach was quite tall; in the Mikdash, it was nine amos high to the walking and working surface; in the Mishkan, there is a difference of opinions among the Tanaim how high it was, but in any case, it was high enough that a ramp was necessary to provide access to the working surface. To the left/south of the Mizbei'ach you see the ramp.

Proceeding westward, we come to the Mishkan itself, the smaller rectangle within the drawing.

Entering the Mishkan, we see directly in front of us, centered on a north/south line, the Golden Altar/Mizbei'ach Hazahav, also referred to as the Altar of Incense/Mizbach Haketores, used (almost exclusively) for burning the Incense/Ketores.

Farther in, closer to the Paroches, there are two more utensils/keilim. On the right side is the Table, the Shulchan, used for the Show Bread/Lechem Hapanim, and on the left is the Candelabrum/Menorah.

On the opposite side of the room, farthest west, is the Curtain/Paroches, covering the entrance to the Holy of Holies/Kodesh Kadashim. Behind the Paroches, in the Kodesh Hakadashim, is the Ark/Aron, which contained, most importantly, the Tablets/Luchos. In the drawing, the Aron is centered between two horizontal lines.  These lines are the Badim, the "carrying poles" on its sides, which never were removed from the Aron, even when it was at rest.

Every single one of these elements is present in our shuls. From the simplest architectural perspective, one can see that the objects in the shul are laid out exactly as are the objects in the Mishkan. But the correspondence is more than merely superficial. Not only is the layout the same, but the function of the objects is the same- the rear entryway, the elevated Mizbach Ha'olah, the Mizbach Haketores, the Shulchan, the Menorah, the Paroches, and the Aron Hakodesh. Let's look at them one by one.

The entryway is the simplest. The Tur in OC 90 says that the entrance of a shul should be opposite the Aron Kodesh, just as it was in the Mikdash.

The Bimah is the Mizbach Ha'olah. This has been pointed out by the Chasam Sofer (Teshuvos OC 28) and the Netziv (Meishiv Davar OC 15). (The Chasam Sofer calls it the Mizbei'ach Hapnimi, which sounds like the Mizbach Haketores, but he can't possibly mean that, as Reb Moshe points out in Igros OC II 41.) The reason for the correspondence is the Gemara in Menachos 110a; אמר ריש לקיש מאי דכתיב זאת התורה לעולה למנחה ולחטאת ולאשם כל העוסק בתורה כאילו הקריב עולה מנחה חטאת ואשם-- It is at the Bimah that we read the Torah; Reading the Torah is our equivalent of sacrificial service, our Avodas Hakorbanos. (In OC 660, the Gaon and the Pri Megadim in Mishbetzos Zahav sk1 bring that on Sukkos we are makif the Bimah that has a Sefer Torah on it as a zecher le'mikdash based on Megilla 31b, that reading the Parshios of Korbanos is mechaper like physically bringing korbanos. Why, you may ask, don't they bring the Reish Lakish memra from Menachos which seems to be on eisek Torah in general and not just parshos hakorbanos? I suppose that they are mechalek between 'kor'in' in Megilla and "oseik' in Menachos. Now, the Gaon/PM are mashma that the ikkar thing to be makif around is the sefer Torah, that the Sefer Torah, not the Bimah, is like the Mizbei'ach. But the Taz in sk 1 says that the Bimah is like the Mizbei'ach "when it has a sefer Torah on it," and there is no reason to say that the Gaon or the PM are saying different than him.)

Just as the Mizbeiach was elevated, our Bimah, too, is elevated. The elevation is not just for better acoustics or line of sight, it is minhag Yisrael, to the extent that one is prohibited from taking a shortcut from one side of the shul to the other by way of the Bimah platform, because the platform is considered a different, and more holy, reshus (Mekor Chaim OC 151:5).

The next element is the Amud of the Chazan. The Amud is the Mizbei'ach Hazahav, the Altar of Incense/Mizbach Haketores. Tehillim 141:2, "תיכון תפילתי קטורת לפניך...." My prayer shall be established like incense before You.  The Amud, where the Chazan/leader of the prayers stands, is the Golden Altar of Incense.  (see Baal HaTurim Shemos 30:34-זכה. ג' במס' ולבונה זכה ונתת על המערכת לבונה זכה ותפלתי זכה. זש''ה תכון תפלת. קטורת לפניך שהתפלה דומה לקטורת כשם שזה זכה כך התפלה צריכה שתהיה זכה)

The Rabbi and the President of the shul are the Menora/Candelabrum and the Shulchan/Showbread Table. The Rav, obviously, is the source of the light of Torah and Kedusha. The president of the shul is the Parnas Hatzibur, the man of means and influence, the political voice and financial mainstay of the community. The Rav and the Parnas are to the left and the right of the amud, closer to the Paroches.

There happens to be a difference of opinion whether the Rav should be on the left or the right (see Mishbetzos Zahav 94:2); most shuls and yeshivos have the Rav/Rosh Yeshiva on the right side, which is the south side, not the left. This is actually a very old question, and there are minhagim both ways. But please realize: both minhagim are attempting to replicate the layout of the Mishkan.  The only question is whether the directions should be subjective or geographic, that is, determined by their relation to the Kodesh Kodashim or cardinal directions. In other words: in the Mishkan, the Menora was on the left. But that left side was the south, since the Paroches was west. In our shuls, the Aron Hakodesh is East. So, the issue is, do we put the Rav on the south side, like the Menora was on the south, and, in our shuls, that would be on the right, or do we put him to the left of the Aron Kodesh, as the Menora was on the left side from the perspective of one who walks into the Kodesh and vis a vis the Kodesh Kodashim. But both minhagim are centered on creating a correspondence with the Mishkan/Mikdash.

Many shuls have a Ner Tamid/Eternal Light, which also refers to the lamp on the Menora that miraculously continued burning (until the end of the tenure of the Kohen Gadol Shimon Hatzadik-- Yoma 39a) after the other lamps had burned out (Shabbas 22b). This was the Ner Ma'aravis, which was closest to the Kodesh Kadashim. (There are, of course, many opinions as to what, exactly, 'ma'aravis' means. The Menora may have been lined up north/south, in which case ma'aravis wouldn't mean what it means if the Menora was lined up east/west. This doesn't matter. Pashut pshat remains that the Ner Ma'aravis was the Ner Tamid, and so we put it next to the Aron Kodesh.)

And, of course, the Aron Hakodesh. The Paroches/Curtain in shul and the niche containing the Sifrei Torah is the Paroches of the Mishkan, behind which reposed the Aron Hakodesh, which contained the Luchos and the Sefer Torah written by Moshe Rabbeinu.  Sometimes people are confused by the fact that in a synagogue, the closet is called the Aron Kodesh, whereas in the Mikdash/Mishkan, the Aron Kodesh refers to the box that contains the tablets/Torah, and the area is called the Kodesh Kadashim.  So in the synagogue, we are conflating the Kodesh Kadashim and the Aron container of the Torah and calling it the Aron Kodesh.

The Ezras Nashim/Women's Section, too, recreates the balconies that were constructed in the Mikdash, as Reb Moshe explains in OC 39. These, however, were present only in the Mikdash, because they were only necessary when groups of men and women were present for particular events, as Reb Moshe explains there; there were no such gatherings in the Mishkan, so no provisions for an Ezras Nashim were made. Indeed, if a woman needed to enter a shul for some personal reason, such as to say kaddish for Yahrtzeit during the week when the men daven in a side room which has no mechitza, Reb Moshe proves from the fact that women often entered the Mikdash to do semicha or mattan behonos for ziva or tzara'as, that now, too, a woman may occasionally enter the men's shul to say kaddish. (Igros OC 1 end of 39 and more clearly in OC 5 20:2. I didn't believe it was true, but I asked Reb David Feinstein, and he said it was legitimate.  Note on February 17, 2013:  Last night I dreamed about this Teshuva.  I dreamt I was at a local modern-ish shul, and the women's section was overcrowded, so the women took over the rear two rows of the shul.  When I realized what had happened, I had to decide whether to walk out in protest, or to stay and do nothing, out of respect for Reb Moshe's teshuva.  I woke up before I made the decision.)

The only one of the major Klei Shareis that is not represented in the Beis Knesses is the Kiyor/Laver, and it should be obvious why it's not in the room. It's a machshir and only Kohanim need it in order to do the avodah.  I say this because the Gevuras Yitztchak (107) suggests that according to the Rambam the Kiyor is not considered a Kli of the Beis ha'Mikdash. The Torah does not list the Kiyor in the Parshah of the Kelim of the Beis ha'Mikdash (but rather in Parshas Ki Sisa). When the Rambam lists the Kelim in the Beis ha'Mikdash, he does not include the Kiyor, which implies that he holds that the Kiyor is not considered a Kli.  Similarly, the Seforno (Shemos 30:18) says that the purpose of the other Kelim was to make the Shechina rest on the Jewish people, while the purpose of the Kiyor was to ready the Kohanim for their Avodah. 

And this is how it looks, superimposed:

and here's one I did freehand.  It's not to scale, and it's not beautiful.  But it's more clear.  The regular type is the Mishkan.  The bold is the Synagogue.  (I want to point out that one important difference between Jewish and Gentile drawings of the Mishkan is that we leave the carrying-staves only in the Aron.  The staves that were used to carry the table and the altars are not drawn.  This is because the Torah states, regarding the Aron, that the carrying staves shall never be removed, even when it is at rest.  For the other items, the staves were only there when they were necessary for transportation.)

Several more points.
The halacha is that the door of the sanctuary should be opposite the Aron Kodesh (OC 150:5, based on Tosefta Megilla 3:14).  This is because in the Beis Hamikdash, which had the holiest place in the west, we entered on the east side, facing west.

Additionally, the Bach (OC 90) states that one should provide an anteroom for the synagogue, and not construct it so that one walks directly into the sanctuary.  One should have two doors to open before entering the sanctuary.  This opinion is cited in the Magen Avraham (sk 35) and the Mishnah Berurah (sk 61).  The Chasam Sofer (Tshuvos, OC 27) adds that the entrance to the anteroom or hallway should not be directly opposite the entrance to the sanctuary; Since the door to the shul should be on the west side, the door to the anteroom should be on the north or south.  He bases this, again, on the layout of the Beis Hamikdash: "שהרי כן מצינו בבית המקדש, אע"ג שהיה שער ניקנור במזרחה של עזרה, מ"מ עיקר הכניסה והיציאה היה לצפון ולדרום… והכי נמי יש לבנות פתחי האכסדרה שלפני בית הכנסת לדרום או לצפון".  There, too, the main entrances used to the area prior to the Beis Hamikdash proper was on the north and south.

Also involving doors- The Mishna Berura (151:SK21) says that it is a mitzva to leave the synagogue from a different door than the one through which he entered, because this shows love for the kedusha of the Beis HaKnesses, that one desires to spend as much time there as possible.  (This is based on the Gemara in Megilla 29, one version of which says it is allowed, and the other that it is a mitzva.)  A Maaseh Rav- someone built a ramp and second floor on the Lederman shul so that Reb Chaim Kanievsky could daven there without climbing stairs.  When he came in, he realized that there was only one entrance, and he mentioned that he always had a minhag of walking out from a different door than he walked in.  The patron immediately made the change, and now there are separate doors for entrance and exit.


Another issue: there are prominent poskim that say that if the floor above the synagogue is designated and used for a purpose that contradicts the holiness of the synagogue, the prayers will not be effective.  Therefore, while technically the prayers are kosher, they will not be effective- the prayers in a part of a synagogue above which there is a bathroom will not rise up to Heaven.  This has been quoted from Rav Eliashiv by Rav Menachem Tzvi Berlin, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshiva Rabbeinu Chaim Ozer, as follows:

כשבנו פה את הישיבה הקד' עשו כאן שתי תקרות כדי שיוכלו לישון למעלה, הבדל של טפח, היתה מחשבה שבמקום שני חדרים לעשות מקלחת ועוד משהו, עליתי לירושלים לשאול, אמר לי רבי, "תשמע מנחם צבי, מותר לעשות ואין איסור, אבל התפילות ישארו תקועות בדרך"

On the other hand, the Divrei Malkiel 5:10 says that it is not a problem, and it doesn't matter at all what is above the shul.  The Zohar that says that צלותא סלקא לעילא, that tefillos rise upwards, is not talking about physical direction.  (and Abaye and Rava in Brachos 48a were just children.)  (The Divrei Malkiel is a sefer chashuv me'od, written by the Rov of Lomzhe, one of the great talmidim of Volozhin.)

(Several more technical matters on this topic are discussed here.)

So what do we learn from the fact that the shul recreates, as much as possible, the environment of the Beis Hamikdash?
1. Our minhagim, even those that we consider relatively unimportant, have profound meaning and deep and ancient foundations. As I write elsewhere, even the Minhag to wear masks on Purim re-enacts our people's foundation story of Yakov and Eisav, and kal vachomer the layout of our shuls. Kapparos and Gebrokts, less so.
2. If you talk in shul, you are not just transgressing kevod beis haknesses. You are deconsecrating the Beis Hamikdash that others are trying to create. There comes a point when the talking is as loud as or louder than the shliach tzibur. At that point, the sin is not zilzul Beis Haknesses. The sin is making a Mikdash Me'aht into a tavern. Sometimes, the bar imagery is reinforced by the people who go out for a lechaim. These people should get the Hell out of shul and go to a real bar or a country club where that kind of behavior is appropriate.
3. What if your friends don't respond to verbal requests to either be quiet or to go outside to talk? It is likely that according to the Nesivos at the end of Siman 4, and even the Ketzos in the Meshoveiv there, you're allowed to physically dissuade them. One might argue that they are not doing an "issur de'oraysa." To that I say that the Chayei Adam brings the Yerei'im that Kvod Beis Hakneses is De'orayasa. And even though we most likely go with the Ran and the Ramban that it is Derabanan, whether because of tashmishei mitzva or tashmishei kedusha, some things are not "de'oraysa" but have the same severity.
4. Rabbis who claim adherence to "Tradition" but approve of the absence of a mechitza in their shuls may be venal and they may be stupid and they may be both, but they are not neither. The congregants know nothing. The Rabbi has no such excuse.
5. For those of you that still think that the similarities between shul and Mikdash are coincidental, and that the traditional shul floor plan is just the most efficient way to accommodate the service and the worshipers,  I suggest you do some image searches for layout or "floor plan" for church, mosque, and hindu temple. You will find that they have nothing in common with our shuls.
6.  This analysis applies only to European shuls, and not to the Eidot Hamizrach.  Not my problem.  Either they follow some other idea that remains to be discovered, or they hold there's a Lo Sa'asun Itti issue.

Speaking of Bimahs being elevated-- in Europe, especially in Lithuania, the Bimos were really high. This is a picture, taken in the nineteen twenties, of the Bima in the Summer Shul in Shavlan (Shiaulenai), where my grandfather, Harav Akiva Tzvi Berlin, HY'D, was the Rov. My mother shetichyeh says it was a shul of great antiquity, and I have read that it dated from the sixteen hundreds..  The shul is not there anymore: my grandparents and the other Jews of the town were burned alive on that Altar in Tof Shin Alef/1941.

Photograph by Balys Buracas

Update:  I found a sefer by Harav Shimon Sofer, the Chasam Sofer's grandson, that mirrors many of the points I discuss: link

Land Mines: Bor or Eish?

At the kiddush at my house this morning, the question arose as to whether land mines have a din Bor or a din Eish. One nafka mina would be whether the person who laid the mine would be chayav as a rotzei'ach. We pasken Eisho mishum Chitzo, so a baal eish is chayav missah. But for Bor, the guy who dug the pit is not chayav missa or kofer. So: on the one hand, you have the Gemara that says that avno sakino u'masa'o that fell in a ruach metzuyah have a din eish if they damaged while falling, because ko'ach acheri me'urav bo. On the other hand, here, the damage was precipitated by the nizak stepping on the mine; until that point, it was quiescent. But one can say that a mine is not passive, like a bor. It is eish. The fact that the eish is potential instead of actual should not make any difference.


One wise guy said that it couldn't be bor, because it says in the Torah velo yechasenu, and mines are always very carefully covered up. That, of course, crosses the line between Torah and Purim Torah.


Photo: John Rodsted

Yisro, Shemos 20:3. Worship No Other Gods in My Presence. לא יהיה לך אלהים אחרים על פני

Hashem warns us that we must not worship other gods "in My presence." Obviously, since Hashem is present everywhere, this means everywhere. But this is really self evident. What is gained from saying "ahl ponoy"?

I read an interesting story by (the recently deceased) John Updike in the New Yorker of January ‘08 called "Outage." Strange, unsettled weather causes a power outage in a rural village and the surrounding area in Maine. A man, standing in line in a store while the clerk laboriously adds numbers longhand, has a conversation with the woman behind him. Both their spouses are out of town. The woman seems slightly anxious and distracted, and she tells him that she’s nervous about being alone in her isolated house in the weird half-light and amid the creaking trees. Out of simple kindness, he accompanies her to her home, and things, predictably, deteriorate and develop their own momentum. Just at the moment that it becomes clear to the characters that they are going to be unfaithful to their spouses, the lights suddenly come on, the burglar alarm starts chirping, the dishwasher starts churning, and they are jolted back into reality. As if awoken from a daze, he realizes that he has no business being there, and he apologetically leaves, and the woman, too, is relieved to see him go.

To me, the story is a powerful evocation of a truth (besides the fact that Yichud is, even for decent people, a really bad idea): when we find ourselves in a changed environment, sometimes we feel detached from the rules and morals we live by; we’re in kind of a dream-state where everything is different, or we think of our everyday life as a distant, half-forgotten dream. Indeed, Updike, in an running undertone, refers to the pale and ghostly appearance, the seeming intangibility, that the day lends to the things and people in the story.

My mother shlita told me that many refugees from Eastern Europe who gathered in Russia during the war, frummeh people who had lived blameless, innocent lives, just dropped away all their morals and upbringing, and the moral decay in arayos and gneiva in a great number of the people was terrible to see. Outside of the cocoon of their past, irretrievably torn from their community, they became entirely different people, brutish and amoral.

To some extent, people feel this when they go on vacation, or even on a business trip. The great avoda is to so deeply inculcate and incorporate our moral beliefs that change in circumstance does not result in anomie, the feeling that our life-mores don't apply, so that when we find ourselves in a different matzav, our regular life doesn’t seem like an easily forgotten dream. Wherever you find yourself, you are always "Ahl Ponoi." Everyone is brave on the firing range, as they learn how to shoot a rifle and crawl under barbed wire. When people actually face the enemy, they learn that their putative bravado may turn out to be a thin facade. It's easy to fool yourself into thinking that you've succeeded in this hard avodah. But in fact, it's a never-ending task; the only way to really know if you've succeeded is through trial by fire, rachmana litzlan.

(By the way, even without involving the Ribono shel Olam, if you think you can get away with stuff on vacation, you're wrong. First of all, bad behavior sticks. As a certain famous Mashgi'ach once said to me, "Good comes and goes, but bad is forever." You can't be a sheigitz away from home and then come back and put on the mask of tzidkus; once damage is done, the roshem of the aveira stays there, deep inside, even if you don't see it in your safe, predictable daily life. Second: here's a classic example of why it doesn't work: my wife and I took one of our kids to a low-class redneck type vacation area- a sprawling bedlam of tattoo parlors, go-cart tracks, and "Ripley Believe it or not" type attractions, the Wisconsin Dells. We picked what was basically a trailer park type of motel on the outskirts of a trailer-park town, so that "we shouldn't run into anyone who knows us." We would put on baseball caps, wear T-Shirts, and 'go native.' It wasn't exactly a "yilbash shechorim" matzav, but it was the same basic idea. As soon as we settled in, who parked next to us in the lot? The founder of our local Pirchei, who had planned exactly the same thing.  UPDATE: More recently, we went on a two day trip to Louisville, Kentucky.  Who lives in Louisville?  Well, there's a nice orthodox minyan there, and who did I meet at the minyan?  My very frum neighbor, my car mechanic.)

Yisro, Shemos 18:23: וְגַם כָּל הָעָם הַזֶּה עַל מְקֹמוֹ יָבֹא בְשָׁלוֹם. Sometimes, It’s Better to Know Less

The Netziv says that Moshe was not dan b’pshara, he did not arbitrate disputes, because when litigants presented their case to him, he immediately knew what the halacha would be al pi ‘yikov hadin es ha’har’, (Let the law pierce the mountain). This type of scorched-earth psak, while Torah-true, does not necessarily contribute to shalom. (I don't know why the Netziv does not cite the Gemara about ‘he’emidu divreihem al din Torah (Bava Metziah 88), that one of the sins that brought the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash was that they insisted on following the letter of the law in civil disputes, which, I think, is essentially the same point as the Netziv.)

This is reminiscent of the vort of Rav Yosef Ber (Y.U.) who said, in his sefer about his father (I think ‘Ish Ha’halacha’) that the reason that Moshe was not as famous as Aharon for being a rodef shalom was because he stood for absolute and unwavering truth. Aharon, on the other hand, could be ‘meshaneh mi’pnei hashalom’. For example, Aharon would go to 'Reuven' and tell him that his enemy 'Shimon' wanted to end their fight, but that Shimon couldn’t bring himself to approach Reuven.  Then he would go to Shimon and tell him the same thing about Reuven wanting to end the fight, and they would reconcile. Moshe Rabbeinu couldn't do that. He would say that Reuven was wrong, or he would say that both of them were wrong, or he would say there was nothing to fight about and they were both fools. None of these objurgations, true as they were, would bring peace to anyone. Ha'emes ve'hasalom ehavu is no easier than vegar ze'ev im keves.

The most interesting thing about the Netziv is what he says in the note on the bottom, at least in the old print of the Haamek Davar. He says that the great wisdom of Yisro was suggesting that Moshe Rabbeinu get dayanim that were not such talmidei chachomim as he, because they would be able to be dahn bipshara.

The lesson the Netziv is teaching is that sometimes it pays to go to someone who knows less, because mediation can be a better approach than a black and while decision of who is right and who is wrong, who wins and who loses. When there’s an outright winner and loser, there’s going to be hard feelings– the winner will be upset that he had to go to court to get what he should have been given without the trouble of litigation, and the loser will forever resent the dayanim. In cases where the court orders a compromise, too, sometimes pshara satisfies both sides, and sometimes it satisfies neither. Usually, dayanim know they were successful when both sides are angry at them. But with the passage of time, often both sides feel vindicated.

A good illustration is found when we examine the concept of compromise in Halachic applications. Example: Rashi (horizontal) and Rambam (vertical) on Mezuzah and Bimah. Diagonal is good according to both, so it’s a good pshara. Same thing with the shittos about parshah stumah and pesuchah. But sometimes a pshara will not be right according to either side, as the Gemara often says about daas shlishis not being machria where it doesn’t contain elements of the two other shittos. But even the latter might be better for shalom, expecially in matters of shalom bayis.

The implicit lesson of the Netziv is that of the Gemara in Bava Metzia 88: even when you are one hundred percent right, it is wise to accept-even to seek- some degree of compromise. The price of insisting on the full exercise of your rights is often greater than the advantage you think you will gain. The ego boost of proving you are right and the other guy is wrong, and the immediate financial gain, should be subjected to a serious and honest cost/benefit analysis, and you might find that giving in a little will be the wiser path. The intangible benefits of a reputation of being a gentleman, of being reasonable, of winning but not grinding your opponents into the dirt, can be very valuable. And the benefit of Shalom is priceless, for you and for all of Klal Yisrael.

Beshalach, Shemos 17:8. Az Yashir and Amaleik

The Kli Yakar here cites the Mechilta as saying that Amaleik is allegorized to the fly. (The Baal Haturim here points out that the first letters of “zikoron basefer vesim be’oznei” are ‘zevuv.’) The Kli Yakar explains that the metaphoric use of “fly” alludes to an insect that does not have the ability to pierce the skin. It is only when the skin is broken that the fly can feed and generate all sorts of problems. “Hazevuv lahut achar hamakkoh, ” a fly is drawn to wounds. A fly cannot instigate a problem; it can only exploit and aggravate a problem. When a fly lands on you and walks around, the fly is thinking “Is death here yet?”

Similarly, Amalek cannot do anything when the spiritual integument of Klal Yisroel is intact. Only when there is a breach in our ruchnius, when the skin is not intact, can Amalek exploit that breach and attack us.

Amaleik and Safeik are each gematria 240. Amalek has been described as “korcho baderech,” which some interpret to mean a philosophy of mikreh- randomness and coincidence, the philosophy that denies divine justice and providence. When our faith is weak, when we doubt the existence of Hashgachas Hashem, Amaleik is empowered to exploit that breach. As Rashi says, it was only after we began to wonder “Hayeish Hashem bekirbeinu,” did Amaleik attack. They were attracted to the stench of spiritual decay.

Now let us move from the malodor of sin and faithlessness to the opposite. The Gemara (Shabbos 89a) says that the Malach Hamavves taught Moshe Rabeinu that Ketores has the power to stop a mageifah, to halt the Malach Hamaves. Additionally, Rashi says that the Angel of Amalek, the Sar of Amalek, is the Malach Hama'ves. The sefer Nifla’os Mi’torasecha by R’ Mordechai Aran notes that the word Amalek only appears twice in all of Tanach as a rosh teivos or a sof teivos of four consecutive words: once in order, once out of order.  Shemuel I 2:28 על מזבחי להקטיר קטורת “Al Mizbechi Le’haktir Ketores”, and Bamidbar 16:6 where the Adas Korach was instructed זאת עשו קחו לכם מחתות  “zos Ahsu Kechu Lachem Machtos”. Both of these references involve the bringing of ketores. Imagine that! In all of Tanach, only these two phrases have consecutive words beginning or ending with the letters AMLK, and both explicitly refer to the Ketores! Both phrases discuss the sweet smell of ketores, and both contain singular references to the Amalek, to the rot of death.  The Torah locks together the polar opposites; Good and Evil, Kiddush Hashem and Chillul Hashem; the two primal antagonists in the eternal play of existence.

The antidote to the death-power of Amalek is the sweet smell of the ketores, which symbolizes the life-power of strong emunah and mitzvos done with joy.  As the Prophet Nechemiah told the Jewish people (Nechemiah 8:10)

  ויאמר נחמיה הוא התרשתא ועזרא הכהן הספר והלוים המבינים את העם לכל העם היום קדש הוא לה' אלקיכם אל תתאבלו ואל תבכו  כי בוכים כל העם כשמעם את דברי התורה.   ויאמר להם לכו אכלו משמנים ושתו ממתקים ושלחו מנות לאין נכון לו כי קדוש היום לאדנינו ואל תעצבו כי חדות ה' היא מעזכם.

This parshah contains Oz Yoshir, the eponym of Shabbas Shira. Shira corresponds to ketores, as we find (Tehillim 141:2) “Tikon tefillasi ketores lefanecha.” This is reflected in the placement of the amud of the chazon in shul in a position that parallels the mizbeyach hazahav of the Beis Hamikdosh, which was used for burning ketores. Az Yashir is preceeded by "Va'ya'aminu BaHashem." When the Torah begins the shira, it uses the words ‘Az Yashir,’ not 'Az Shar.' Rashi explains (briefly, because it’s a dikduk Rashi) that Yashir is lashon assid, and Chazal darshan accordingly, but the pashut pshat is that sometimes lashon assid is used to say that “he was moved to...”, so the passuk means “Then, having experienced the miracle, Moshe and the Bnei Yisroel were inspired to sing, and they said...” The question is , why the three step introduction? 1; experienced miracle, 2. their hearts were moved to sing, and 3. they sang (or, Revelation, Exultation, Exaltation.) Why not just say that in response to the miracle, they sang? What does the extra step— “their hearts were moved to sing”— add? The answer is that shira is not just singing, it is song that comes from the heart. Mere chazanus is empty. Shira means song that comes from inspiration, from the heart, from the elevation generated by the awareness of Hashem’s loving presence.

So we see in this parsha, the Torah is really showing us a dichotomy, a contrast, a spectrum defined by, on the one hand, Shira, and on the other, Amalek. When Bnei Yisrael came to “Vaya’aminu Bashem uvemoshe avdo,” then “Oz Yoshir.” When Bnei Yisroel wondered “Hayeish Hashem bekirbeinu im oyin,” then “Vayavo Amalek.” Emunah brings shirah, which is like the ketores. Safeik brings Amalek.

The presence of Az Yashir and Amalek in this parsha is not coincidental. Just as we saw that in all of Tanach, only two pesukim contain the letters of Amalek, and both discuss the Ketores, here, too, the parsha that introduces Amalek precedes that story with Az Yashir, the antidote to Amalek. Once again, Ketores and Amalek face one another.

It was pointed out to me that this can be viewed as “Creating Your Own Reality.” In other words, when they doubted Hashem’s hashgocho and didn’t feel confident that they were safe, they were attacked; when they were confident that Hashem was protecting them, they were protected. This is like the Brisker story of “Ein Ohd Milvado” and R’ Chaninah ben Dosah. See also R Chaim Shmuelevitz in Sichos Mussor #35 and 64, who says that our beliefs create all of our realities, even to the extent that our beliefs contribute to the power of objects to cause us harm, as he brings from R Ami’s story of the Chuldoh and the Bohr in Taanis 8a.

Briefly: Amaleik=Zevuv. Zevuv is attracted to the smell of physical decay that comes from the wounds which allow it to feed and spawn and proliferate. Amaleik is empowered by and attracted to the metaphysical odor of spiritual decay--sin and failure of faith. The polar opposite of Amaleik/Zevuv is the fragrant Ketores. Ketores=Shir. Therefore, Shir is the opposite of Amalek. Shir expresses the exultation of faith and good works. Parshas Beshalach, which contains both Az Yashir and the Parsha of Amaleik, spans the two defining extremes of spiritual life: the state of Emunah and Shir, and the state of Safeik and Amaleik.

My son, in a drasha at his shul, expanded this with an insight that gives this genuine relevance to our lives. What follows is his.

We find that Parshas Ha'azinu contains many strongly worded criticisms of Klal Yisrael and warnings of dangerous and difficult times. Why, then, is it called a Shirah? Is the prophecy of Yirmiahu known as a Shira? Certainly not. So in what sense is Ha'azinu a Shirah? The answer is that Haazinu is a global perspective. It is only for us, who are handicapped by our imperfect understanding of the present and forgetfulness or unawareness of the past, that suffering is so emotionally painful and confusing. But with the global view of Shechina Medaberes Mitoch Grono shel Moshe, with a perfectly understood panorama of the past, the present, and the future, all things fall into place: U're'isem es achorai, ufanai lo yei'ra'u!" Life is experienced forward, but only understood backward. You cannot comprehend what you see because you simply are unaware of the factors that contributed to it or of the ultimate purpose of what you experience; we occupy a thin slice of dim light between endless expanses of darkness. When you finally are granted understanding, after all is done and the goal is acheived, then you will see that all of life is a Shirah, including the Chelbana. Reb Tzadok Hacohen of Lublin once said (in parshas Korach) that Chelbana comprises the letter Ches, which stands for Choshech, darkness, and the rest of the word is Levana, white, or light. Chelbana, the element of ketores that is foul smelling, symbolizes our narrow awareness-- light bound into darkness. But in the ketores, the Chelbana itself combines with all the other ingredients to create a supernally sweet fragrance.

The Beis Halevi in this week's parsha notes the Medrash that Moshe Rabbeinu said "with the word 'Az' I sinned, when I said "u'mei'az basi el Pharaoh," and with the word Az I now say Shira-- Az yashir Moshe. The Beis Halevi explains that now that Moshe saw the denoument of Yetzias Mitzrayim, he realized that not only should he say Shira on the Geula, but that he ought to say Shira on the suffering of the Jews in Mitzrayim.

It is Amalek, or the Amalek within us, that sees the suffering of innocents, the brutish indifference of nature, and says "the is no justice in life." They say that all is Mikreh, randomness, a black abyss of meaninglessness.

We, on the other hand, we say Shira. We know that everything happens for a reason, that Hashem loves mankind and that Hashem loves the Jewish people with a chiba ye'seirah, and we know that ultimately we will have a glimmer of understanding of the whole play of history. And that is the perspective that we express in Shira. Just as Moshe said Shira when the story of Mitzrayim reached its end, we say Shira too, in perfect faith in Hashem's justice and love.

What a great pity it is when people who suffer fall into despair or into sullen frustration. They give up, or they take it out on their friends and family, or they simply become emotionally unsupportive and distant. It is a pity because these people themselves will ultimately realize that they missed an opportunity to say Shira. They should have been saying Shira, and saying Shira itself would have lifted their spirits!

Shira does not have to be a song, it doesn't have to have notes or lyrics. Shira is when a person comes home from a hard day, and he knows that his job is on the line, and that he made bad investment decisions, and the first thing he does when he comes home is to make sure his family knows how much he loves them and how grateful he is that he has his family to return to. That is the truest form of Shira. Let's not wait for Biyas Hamashiach to sing Shira. Let us learn that to not say Shira is a Zeicher of Amalek, and we must eradicate Zecher Amalek. Let us re-learn what emuna and bitachon are all about, and we will say Shira every day of our life.

When I posted an earlier version of this two years ago, there were two comments:
One, anonymous, pointed out that Shiras Miriam begins with the Present Tense, implying that Women can percieve the Yad Hashem in miracles more quickly than men. The other, calling himself Furbo, put in a link to a gematriya and Bible Code engine, http://www.bible-code-depths.com.
Someone else asked for the source of there being ten shiros in Tanach. The sources are Yalkut Shimoni Yehoshua19:2, Mechilat Vayishlach 15:1, and Shir Hashirim Rabba 6:10.)  The Targum in the beginning of Shir Hashirim says that in Tanach you only find nine, and we will sing the tenth when Mashiach comes.

For a discussion about the heightened significance attributed to the sense of smell in Talmudic literature, and some insight into why smell is the most appropriate metaphor, please see http://havolim.blogspot.com/2008/08/shoftim-devarim-1618-shoftim-veshotrim.html

A salute to the Kli Yakar: I believe his Yahrtzeit is around now. In any other generation, he would have been the Gadol Hador in Drush. He, however, had the misfortune of living next door to the Maharal.

Yeshaya 59:20-21. Lo Yamushu Mipicha U'mipi Zaracha

The Gemara in Bava Metzia 85a brings that after Rav Yosef fasted forty days, the passuk in Yeshaya 59, (which we say every day in Uva Letzion,) was read to him in a dream: "Lo Yamushu Mipicha," that the words of the Torah will never go away from his mouth. He fasted another forty days, and once again, it was read to him in a dream "Lo Yamushu Mipicha Umipi Zaracha," they will never leave from your mouth nor from the mouths of your children. He fasted yet another forty days, and he was read "Lo Yamushu Mipicha Umipi Zaracha Umipi Zera Zaracha," they will not leave your mouth, nor the mouths of your children, nor the mouths of your children's children." He did not fast any more, because, he said, if three generations of his family will learn Torah, it will become their natural heritage and predilection.

When I was in Yerashalayim two weeks ago, one of the great talmidei chachamim of Yerushalayim, Rav Aryeh Bernstein, asked me the following question. Why, in the successive dreams, was the promise of "Lo Yamushu Mipicha" repeated? The second dream should have said only the additional promise of "Lo Yamushu Mipi Zaracha" and the third should have said "Lo Yamushu Mipi Zera Zaracha." Why repeat "Lo Yamushu Mipicha"?

Rav Bernstein said a teretz, I said a teretz, and an acquaintance of mine, a Rav, said a teretz. This is kind of a Rorscharch Kashe, in the sense that it is diagnostic-- the teretz people say is symptomatic of who they are. Rav Bernstein is a Brisker, a talmid of Reb Berel and among the first talmidim of Reb Avraham Yehoshua, and his teretz is perfect for a Brisker. The Rav's teretz is perfect for a Rav. My teretz is, I think, the best of the three. It is based on something my father zatzal said, so don't tell me it's diagnostic of my ga'avah. Anyway, I delete comments that smart, unless they're smart. Or, to put it differently, I moderate comments that are immoderate.

1. Brisker Teretz
The Bracha of the subsequent dreams was not just that the children will be Talmidei Chachamim. The Bracha was that the Torah his children will say will be the same Torah as that of Reb Yosef, their father. The Torah the children will have will be the Mipicha Torah. What will not be mash from their mouths? The Torah that was in your mouth.
If you've ever heard a shiur from a Brisker, you will know why this is an echt-Brisker derech. Reb Baruch Ber? Reb Shimon Shkop? Reb Elchonon? Interesting, but essentially irrelevant. The only thing worth saying over is what the Rov said. And if the Rov said it, and it doesn't seem to make any sense, you say it over anyway.

2. Rabonishe Teretz
Torah without a mesora is not Torah at all. It's only shayach Lo Yamushu Mipi Zaracha if it is received as a mesora from Mipicha. A Torah that is learned without receiving it from others is not Torah at all.

3. My Teretz
It's not shayach to give a man a bracha that his children will be talmidei chachamim. What is shayach is to give a man a bracha that his Torah will be of a quality that will resonate in his childrens' minds, and of a quality that will inspire his children to emulate him and to become talmidei chachamim like their father.

With each Dream, the "Mipicha" changed. Dream One was a bracha of "Mipicha," that he will forever learn Torah. Dream Two was a bracha that his "Mipicha" will be of a higher order-- such that his Torah will make an indelible roshem on his children, that his Torah will be of a quality that will inspire and prepare his children to become, themselves, Talmidei Chachamim. Dream Three was a bracha that his "Mipicha" will be of such magnificence that not only his children will be influenced by his learning, but that even his grandchildren will naturally be drawn to Limud Hatorah, that his Torah will invest his family with both a cheishek and a aptitude for learning. Like the Briskers.

My father zatzal used to say that the Mitzvah of Chinuch in parshas Krias Shma is put next to the Mitzvah of Limud: How can you be mekayeim "velimadetem osem es be'neichem?" Only if "vedibarta bam beshivticha be'veisecha uve'lechtecha baderech u've'shavvecha u've'kumecha." Only if you learn with pleasure and hasmada will you be able to be mechaneich your children to be Lomdei Torah.