Brought in the name of Rav Kook in Chaim Sabato's Ahavat Torah:
Only with humility is Eretz Yisroel conquered: it says “tovah ha’aretz me’ohd me’ohd,” and in Pirkei Avos it says “me’ohd me’ohd hevei shefal ru’ach.” This unusual expression, "me'od me'od", shows a relationship between humility and our ability to acquire the land of Israel.
Rav Kook adds that this is what it means in Tehillim 37:11 “ve’anavim yirshu eretz,” the meek shall inherit the earth; Aretz, in this passuk, means Eretz Yisrael. (Also quoted by the Nesivos Shalom from the Rebbe of Lechowitz. Also, see Reb Isaac Sher's similar approach to the mistake of the Meraglim.)
So it was known to the Meraglim that humility was a central ingredient in Yerushas Eretz Yisrael, and no doubt they prepared themselves accordingly; they learned mussar with hispa'alus, they did a cheshbon hanefesh, a spiritual audit. They went on their mission well prepared, with the requisite shiflus haru'ach. But it seems that this good thought was misapplied, and was ultimately counterproductive. They felt that the hanhaga of lema'ala miderech hateva, the supernatural protection of the Jewish people, would stop upon entering Eretz Yisrael, and Hashem would leave them to their own zechusim and abilities: they said they felt like chagavim, that bederech hateva they had no hope of conquering the land, even if Hashem would help in a derech hateva way. Their sin was misapplied humility.
Scrupulosity is the conviction of spiritual uncleanliness, of unworthiness, the inflation of trivial failings into major catastrophes. Scrupulosity, and its brother, unctuousness, perhaps are, perhaps are not, sinful. I've known several people who were classically unctuous as young men, but who ended up becoming successful and influential Mashgichim. (By the way; the etymology of unctuous is the Latin word for oily, or greasy, because these people often walk around rubbing their hands around each other as if the are rubbing oil into their hands. Thus, the epithet 'greaseball' in the Yeshiveshe jargon. This phenomenon, evidently, is not exclusive to our yeshivos.) But these traits, unless carefully controlled, certainly can become counter-productive. Think about Reb Zecharia ben Avkilus!
After the disaster of the Meraglim, a group of contrite men decided that they would take their lives into their hands and march into Eretz Yisrael- the Ma'apilim. They were all killed. The sin of the ma’apilim was misapplied bitachon. They believed that if they bravely put themselves into danger, if they did like Nachshon ben Aminadav at the Yam Suf, Hashem would step in in recognition of their faith in Him. (The Netziv there says that they hoped their bravery and trust would elicit Hashem's help; and if it didn't, it was better to die ahl kiddush Hashem in the attempt than to live through the forty years of the Midbar.) They, and the Meraglim, made the mistake of applying middos tovos without constant appraisal of whether the middos were serving Hashem’s will.
You can’t let a midda tova run away with you; you need to constantly reassess whether the middah is being used correctly. This is what Rava (Sotah 5a) means when he says, regarding humility, בשמתא דאית ביה ובשמתא דלית ביה. Excommunicated in whom it is, excommunicated in whom not.
How, you wonder, can a person be liable for well-intentioned mistakes? Beyond the issue of punishing intellectually sincere non-believers, here the question is more serious: here, the sins stemmed from anivus and bitachon; shouldn't they have been rewarded for good faith? Even if they didn't deserve reward, did they deserve such serious punishment for what must have been well-motivated errors? And similarly, why did Hashem punish the generation of the Midbar for what Hashem said was a sin of "Lo he'eminu." If you don't believe, you don't believe. Belief is, after all, an inevitable outgrowth of experience: you trust those who earn your trust, and nobody else. If you don't trust someone, whose fault is it? If Klal Yisrael didn't believe, whose fault was it?
The answer seems to be that much of what we consider well-reasoned decisions are post-facto rationalizations of base motivations that we are unwilling to explicitly consider. These true motives, which embarrass us because they are hedonistic, or solipsistic, or infantile, are hidden in the closet, and we self-servingly create rationalizations that not only hide the dark truth, but even make our decisions appear, superficially, honorable and self-sacrificing. The thing is, you can lie to your friends, and you can lie to yourself, but you can't get away with it when you're dealing with the Bochen Levavos.
Just as Chazal say we can love Hashem "bi'shnei yetzirecha," that we can use the Yetzer Hara- Ga'ava, Azus, Kin'ah, Nekama- in the service of Hashem, it turns out that we can rebel against Hashem with our Yetzer Hatov- Anivus, Bitachon, and Yir'ah.
Mei'inyan le'inyan be'oso inyan:
The Tefillah of Moshe on the sin of the Meraglim: the Gemora in Shabbos 89a. “Reb Yehoshua ben Levi: when Moshe came up to Hashem, he found Him tying crowns on the letters. Hashem told him, “Don’t they say “Shalom” where you come from? Moshe answered, “Is it right for a slave to greet his Master?” Hashem said, “You should help Me.” Moshe said, “Ve’atah, yigdal nah Koach Hashem....” What does “ve’atah yigdal no Ko’ach Hashem” mean? And what was it that Moshe realized when Hashem told him to say Shalom?
Rav Freidlander in his Sifsei Chaim on Mo’adim, vol 1 page 276 or something, brings the Maharal in the Ohr Hagolah, and explains the dialogue. 'Crowns on letters' means perfection of the Torah, the absolute power and inherent sufficiency of the Torah and the Middos of Hashem. Hashem asked Moshe, don’t you say hello where you come from? That is, don’t you say Shalom, which is a brachah that Hashem’s power be increased in your world of Gashmius? Moshe answered, what good is my brachah on the Middos of Hashem? Hashem answered, (just as we have in Brochos 6a with Yishmaeil ben Elisha in the Kodesh Kadashim– barcheini be'ni– http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPDski6IBfM ), that this is the secret of tefillah. The middos are a reality. But, just as was the case with the rain that gave life to Gan Eden, to actuate them, to bring them to fruition in our world, they need to be unlocked, and Hashem wants mankind to hold that key. The key is tefillah. As I have said from the Alshich on the Middos, the 13 Middos are infinitely potent; but in order for the middos to be given effectiveness, man has to become a proper conduit for the power of the middos, and this is only through tefillah AND through BECOMING the middos. A water pipe can carry water, a gas pipe carries gas, a copper wire carries electricity. A person who is ra’ui to carry the middos of Hashem can invoke them through his tefillah.
So: this parsha teaches us about the sin of humility, the sin of faith, and the power of Tefillah. How on earth can a mortal man know that he is fooling himself through his ostensible application of middos tovos and pursuit of good? There is only one answer. What distinguished Yehosuha and Kalev? They were not greater than the others. Why didn't they fall into the trap that destroyed the other meraglim? What distinguished them was tefilla. The other meraglim were the greatest of the great; they were paragons of Mussar and self-sacrifice and middos tovos, and after careful meditation and thought, they made their fateful decisions. But-- Yehoshua and Kalev had one advantage- and that made the difference between life and death. The difference was tefilla. Moshe prayed for Yeshoshua, and Kalev went to Chevron to lie prostrate on the kevarim of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov. No matter how great one is, no matter what he has achieved in life, it is only through tefilla for siyata dishmaya can we hope to accurately discern when our middos tovos are being used letov or ch'v the opposite. Pick up that Tehilllim and pay attention to what you are saying in davening, or you might, Ch'V, follow the path of the meraglim.
~
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Fun and Games on Shavuos.
I had an experience "ahf alleh Yiddishe sonim gezogt" on Shavuos. I spoke in a neighborhood shul, and this is the drasha I prepared. The drasha is probably not useful to anyone until next Shavuos, but in my case, the delivery was far more interesting than the content.
I had finished the introductory part of the drasha, set up the structure, and was beginning the heart of the drasha, and suddenly I had no idea what was supposed to follow. I sat there looking at the passuk in chumash I had built the drasha on, and had no idea what preceded it and what I meant to do with it. I appeared to the listeners like a half-wit bar mitzvah boy who forgot his place in the pshetel. In that I am almost forty four years past my bar mitzvah, it was an uncomfortable position to be in, both for most the listeners and for me (although I think some listeners were getting oneg yomtov out of it). After five minutes of increasing perplexity and anxiety, in the spirit of shooting a horse with a broken leg, the Rav decided it was time to bentch. Two of my friends- doctors who had come to hear me speak- decided I needed to go to the emergency room to be examined, and another friend took me and my wife and waited for three hours, until I was admitted. After a night of physical invasion, observation and introspection, I learned that 1. I am mortal; after more than fifty years of perfect health despite a spectrum of habits ranging from execrable to negligent, some consequences are inevitable; 2. High blood pressure, untreated, can lead to circulatory dysfunction which can cause a transient inability to access memory files, 3. It is acutely uncomfortable to be the object of pity and scrutiny; 4. The attractiveness of "Live while you live and die and be done with it" as a life philosophy appears to diminish in direct proportion to the proximity of its natural consequences.
The drasha. Thanks to Chaim B. of www.divreichaim.blogspot.com for several of the marei makom.
Reb Akiva Eiger, in his first teshuva, says that a woman who forgets yaaleh veyavo in bentching on Yomtov does not have to repeat bentching, because simcha, and its concomitant chiyuv to make seudos on Yomtov, (where there is no Shamor/Zachor hekesh,) is a zman grama. Her husband has a chiyuv to be mesamei'ach her, but she has no personal simcha obligation. For her, the day is not mechayeiv the seuda, and so bedi'eved, if she doesn't mention the day in bentching, she does not have to repeat the bentching.
The Vilner Dayan, the Binyan Shlomo (OC II 47), says that while this may be true on Pesach and Sukkos, he would disagree regarding Shavuos. The Gemara in Taanis says that everyone agrees you need chatzi lachem on Shavuos, because it is the day of Matan Torah, and simple logic mandates that we celebrate this day with festive meals. If so, he says, the chiyuv seuda and simcha on Shavuos is a svara; the ptur of zman grama only applies to dinei Torah, not to things that are mi'svara, as indicated in several gemaros, such as mezuza, tefilla, megilla, and daled kosos.
Reb Shlomo Kluger in the Chachmas Shlomo OC 428 says that although kiddush levana should be recited as early as possible, in Sivan it is best to say it after Shavuos: we say "chok uzman nasan lahem shelo yeshanu es tafkidam," and it was only with Matan Torah that the laws of nature were ratified and made immutable.
So the celebration of Shavuos is unique. Our bodies and souls join in a festive celebration of the culmination of the brias ha'olam, the covenant that elevated Klal Yisrael to be the earthly representatives of the Ribono shel Olam, and a roadmap and opportunity for true communion with God. But Shavuos seems relatively poor in specific mitzvos. On Pesach, when we commemorate Yetzias Mitzrayim, we reenact the geula with the Seder and eat Matza. Sukkos, we sit in Sukkos to re-experience the Sukkos Hashem provided for us in the Midbar. On Shavuos, the King of the Shalosh Regalim, we have no special mitzvos. There is an issur melacha, there are the Shtei Halechem and Shelmei Tzibur that are kodshei kodoshim, there are Kiddush and simcha, but there is no particular and unique mitzva for individuals on Yomtov. Why is that? We try to create some physical focus for the Simchas Hayom with the minhag to eat milchiks and we stay up all night; I have no doubt that the development and success of these minhagim express and reflect our desire for special mitzvos. But these are just minhagim. Why is there no special Mitzva? In fact, the Shaarei Aharon in Emor brings a pirush (whose roshei teivos don't look good in English,) that the reason Chazal, as first appears in Onkelos, call Shavuos "Atzeres," (when in fact Shavuos is the only one of the three Regalim that the Torah does not call Atzeres,) is because it has no special ma'aseh mitva and is distinguished from other days only by issur melacha- atzira mi'me'lacha!
Even outside the context of the Yomtov of Shavuos, the basic commemoration of Matan Torah seems relatively minor. The Passuk in Devarim 4:9-10 say that we must never forget what Hashem has told us, Hishamer lecha pen tishkach...Yom asher amadeta lifnei Hashem Elokecha beChorev, but the Rambam does not count this as one of the Taryag. The Ramban, in his list of Mitzvos Lo Sa'aseh (#2) lists this obligation to remember Mattan Torah as one of the Mitzvos that he holds the Rambam should have included. In truth, both the Rambam and the Ramban need iyun. The Gemara in Menachos 99b says that the passuk in Devarim teaches that one who causes himself to forget any halacha has transgressed a torah prohibition, but the Gemara says nothing of the Ramban's Lahv. The Gemara in Kiddushin 30a uses the passuk to teach that if one teaches a grandchild Torah it is as if he is standing in front of Har Sinai while the Torah was given, again no mention of the Ramban's Lahv. On the other hand, the Rambam does not list any issur of forgetting divrei Torah, seemingly ignoring the Gemara in Menachos, and also leaves us wondering what to do with the words in the passuk "yom asher amadeta."
The Rambam, the Megilas Esther in Sefer Hamitzvos explains, didn't list this as a mitzvah, because it is, pardon the barbarism, a meta-mitzvah; it reinforces as a general matter the entire Torah. Although Anochi is a mitzvah, that is because Anochi requires that we learn to see God in His bri'ah. This, however, does nothing but remind us to remember and do all the mitzvos which we have already been told to remember and to do. Also, as the Rambam stresses in the Morah, he holds that the great importance of empiricism mandates that we eschew fanciful imaginings, and not imagine things that are outside of our experience of reality. We can't remember standing at Har Sinai, so we shouldn't create fanciful images of having been there. The Ramban deals there with the Gemara in Kiddushin.
So certainly according to the Rambam, who must view this passuk as a general reinforcement of the mitzvos and limud of the Torah, the national memory of Mattan Torah does not devolve into any practical zikaron requirement. Even according to the Ramban, that there is a mitzva of Zikaron, how does this mitzva compare to the mitva of Zechiras Yetzias Mitzrayim? One would think that Mattan Torah, that singular and unimaginably spiritual formative event, would be central to our tefillos. But Yetzias Mitzrayim is ubiquitous; in Tefilla, in Kiddush, it is constantly repeated. Mattan Torah is almost totally absent from our daily thoughts. Why is this so?
Reb Aharon Kotler (quoted in Kuntres Ha'inyanim Le'chag Hashavuos) writes that Mattan Torah is an ongoing event, it is the Kol Gadol Velo Yasaf-- lo passak. Zichronos, commemorations, are memorializations, and are appropriate only for an event that took place in the past and which resonates in the present. Mattan Torah, however, is a current event; bechal yom, yihyu be'einecha kechadashim. We sit at a seder primarily because we were redeemed at the time of Yetzias Mitrayim, and the time is one of possibility of Geula; we dwell in Sukkos because we dwelled in Sukkos, and the time is one of stronger Hashgacha Pratis. But to do something that recalls Mattan Torah would be wrong and false; we shouldn't be recalling Mattan Torah; we should be experiencing it in real time just as we did in Sinai three thousand years ago. One who is experiencing a current Mattan Torah doesn't need to artificially reinforce the experience, just as someone who lives in Florida and can look out the window and see the beach won't have a souvenir starfish on his living room mantle.
I don't think Reb Aharon would agree with this, but I would extrapolate on his approach. We assume that Matza and Lulav and Sukkah are ways of remembering the events of the past. This is certainly true. Also, we accept that Mitzvos are beyond human comprehension, and we do them because God commanded us to, knowing that there may be many hidden reasons, and that we do them even if we don't know the reasons. Indeed, this is clearly true, because many mitzvos were done before the reason given for them occured, such as Matza and Parah Adumah and Pidyon Haben. So let us speculate: Perhaps these mitzvos are not only ways of evoking the past, but are actually ways of recreating the past; of actualizing the potential of the past and bringing it into our time. The Geula of Mitzrayim stems from the segula of that date for geula in general. Be'Nissan nigalu, be'Nissan asidin le'hi'ga'el. By creating a tableau vivant, by sitting at the seder and seeing ourselves as if we had just left Mitzryim, by eating matza as our ancestors ate matza the night they left Mitzrayim, perhaps we recreate, we stimulate, we call up the power of Geula. It's a segula; not the cheap superstitious segulos of our times: the matza is not a juju or a fetish that we shake at our enemies; it is a real segula that the Ribono shel Olam has provided for us to summon up the power of geula. One might say that it is invocation through evocation.
Such Segula Mitzvos, however, are totally unnecessary for Shavuos and for Mattan Torah. Mattan Torah is not an event of the past that resonates in the present: it is an ongoing and universally accessible reality, and no summoning up is necessary. Just sit down, open a Gemara, perhaps learn with your grandchild (Kiddushin 30a), and you are standing at Har Sinai.
In any case, let's think about the lomdus of the Machlokes Ramban and Rambam. Why does the Rambam hold there is no chiyuv zechira while the Ramban holds there is? I say it is the same machlokes as the machlokes Rashi and Tosfos in Yevamos 49b whether we say "ee lo tafsi pak'i."
Reb Akiva holds that kiddushin cannot be executed when the partners are prohibited to marry. The Chachamim hold that even if they are transgressors, the marriage is a legally recognized marriage, although we force them to divorce. According to Reb Akiva, what if there was a non-problematic and legal marriage, and during the course of the marriage, an event occurred which prohibited this union. According to Rashi, "ee lo tafsi, paki." A prohibition which interferes with the execution of a marriage, which would prevent a marriage from being created, will equally end an existing marriage. Ee lo tafsi, paki; if it couldn't take hold, it is annulled. Tosfos argues. Tosfos holds that although if the prohibition preceded the marriage, it would prevent the marriage from taking place, it does not end an existing marriage.
Achronim have said that the essence of the machlokes Rashi and Tosfos revolves around the theoretical nature of a marriage contract. According to Tosfos, when a marriage is created, there is a change in the state of the parties, and this change of state is permanent and self-contained. According to Rashi, a marriage contract is permanent only because it is self-renewing. The contract creates a marriage for the moment of acceptance, and separately it renews itself the next moment, and so on for every moment of the parties' lives. As the Rogotchover is quoting as having said upon hearing this idea, tell Reb Chaim mazal tov, since according to him he is getting married anew every moment.
The Rambam holds like Tosfos. Mattan Torah was the Yom Simchas Libo, the eirusin, of Klal Yisrael to the Ribono shel Olam. This was a permanent change in status. We were all born; the fact we are alive is because we were born at a certain point, and we continue living. It's not a new chalos "life" every second. We get married, and we are married people, and we stay that way. The bechira of Klal Yisrael and the eirusin of Torah took place, and what we are stems from that event, which we remember on Shavuos. The Ramban holds like Rashi. The eirusin of Klal Yisrael was not a one time event; it is a forever self-renewing event. Every time we open a Gemara, every time we do a mitzvah, we are doing it because at that moment Hashem is telling us "Learn! Do Mitzvos!" and we are being mekabeil. This is why the Ramban tells us that we need to constantly renew the awareness of our kabalas hatorah, the eima, yira, reses and zei'ah that must accompany Kabalas Hatorah. We must remind ourselves of the nesina because it is recurring every second of our lives.
While there may be a machlokes rishonim whether there is a mitzvas zechira of Mattan Torah, there is absolutely no doubt about another zechira: Zechiras Maaseh Ha'Eigel. This is because what happened forty days after the Aseres Hadibros? The Chet Ha'Eigel. Unless we learn that lesson, remembering Har Sinai will be a waste of time. Forty days after the actual Mattan Torah, after Krias Yam Suf, after Yetzias Mitzrayim, an aveira was publicly done which insulted and denigrated the entire Torah and contravened Hashem's will. How can this have happened? It happened because things we get as gifts are cheap. If we don't work hard to earn the gifts we receive, we consider them worthless and lose them. Obviously, Klal Yisrael had spent the time of Sefira growing and learning what it meant to be Avdei Hashem and not slaves to mankind or to one's physical desires. It wasn't enough. After receiving the Torah, they should have worked harder to incorporate its lessons. They didn't, and the Matana of Torah remained a Matanah, not something they earned, and it never penetrated their souls. What you don't work hard for is very difficult to keep. A thrilling Mattan Torah, hearing and seeing and smelling the fragrance of the Aseres Hadibros, all that was not enough. It was ephemeral and superficial and ultimately fell by the wayside as they found that other religious options could be much more exciting.
Here's an East Side story; no names, but it's a maaseh she'haya that really did happen.
In the thirties and forties, being a shomer shabbos was extremely difficult for working men. This man, as many others, came home most Fridays with a pink slip and his last day's salary. But he came in with enthusiasm, and said "It's erev Shabbos! Ba Shabbos ba menucha! Baruch Hashem we have Shabbos, and next week I'll find another and a better job." Over time, he was able to make his own business, and slowly accumulated some money, and finally he bought a little house. Come Sukkos, after all the years of eating in community sukkos, for the first time he built his own sukkah in the tiny back yard. He and the kids went out to decorate it, and as they stood there wondering what to use, he said "Wait! I have the perfect decoration!" He ran into the house, and came back with a shoe box, and took out hundreds of pink slips. "This", he said, "is the perfect decoration. Every soldier has ribbons and medals he gets for the wars he fought and the wounds he got, and these are my medals and ribbons for Shemiras Shabbos and Kavod Shabbos." And he covered one whole wall with the pink slips. This is a man who earned Shemiras Shabbos. For many, Shabbas remains as it was given, a Matanah Tova. For this man, it was both a Matanah Tovah and earned.
Ne'ilas Hachag does not mean that the last man out of the building closes the lights and locks the doors. Ne'ilas hachag is the locking of Gan na'ul achosi kallah. Klal Yisrael and the Torah are the Chasan and the Kallah, and the Ne'ilah is how we lock in the his'orerus of the Yomtov, the aliyah ruchnis of Mattan Torah, and how we enrich our life-long work of earning the Matana Tova of Mattan Torah.
(For an extended discussion on how a Ne'ilas Hachag strengthens the hisorerus of Yomtov, see Ohr Gedalyahu on Pesach, which I heard about after writing this.)
~
I had finished the introductory part of the drasha, set up the structure, and was beginning the heart of the drasha, and suddenly I had no idea what was supposed to follow. I sat there looking at the passuk in chumash I had built the drasha on, and had no idea what preceded it and what I meant to do with it. I appeared to the listeners like a half-wit bar mitzvah boy who forgot his place in the pshetel. In that I am almost forty four years past my bar mitzvah, it was an uncomfortable position to be in, both for most the listeners and for me (although I think some listeners were getting oneg yomtov out of it). After five minutes of increasing perplexity and anxiety, in the spirit of shooting a horse with a broken leg, the Rav decided it was time to bentch. Two of my friends- doctors who had come to hear me speak- decided I needed to go to the emergency room to be examined, and another friend took me and my wife and waited for three hours, until I was admitted. After a night of physical invasion, observation and introspection, I learned that 1. I am mortal; after more than fifty years of perfect health despite a spectrum of habits ranging from execrable to negligent, some consequences are inevitable; 2. High blood pressure, untreated, can lead to circulatory dysfunction which can cause a transient inability to access memory files, 3. It is acutely uncomfortable to be the object of pity and scrutiny; 4. The attractiveness of "Live while you live and die and be done with it" as a life philosophy appears to diminish in direct proportion to the proximity of its natural consequences.
The drasha. Thanks to Chaim B. of www.divreichaim.blogspot.com for several of the marei makom.
Reb Akiva Eiger, in his first teshuva, says that a woman who forgets yaaleh veyavo in bentching on Yomtov does not have to repeat bentching, because simcha, and its concomitant chiyuv to make seudos on Yomtov, (where there is no Shamor/Zachor hekesh,) is a zman grama. Her husband has a chiyuv to be mesamei'ach her, but she has no personal simcha obligation. For her, the day is not mechayeiv the seuda, and so bedi'eved, if she doesn't mention the day in bentching, she does not have to repeat the bentching.
The Vilner Dayan, the Binyan Shlomo (OC II 47), says that while this may be true on Pesach and Sukkos, he would disagree regarding Shavuos. The Gemara in Taanis says that everyone agrees you need chatzi lachem on Shavuos, because it is the day of Matan Torah, and simple logic mandates that we celebrate this day with festive meals. If so, he says, the chiyuv seuda and simcha on Shavuos is a svara; the ptur of zman grama only applies to dinei Torah, not to things that are mi'svara, as indicated in several gemaros, such as mezuza, tefilla, megilla, and daled kosos.
Reb Shlomo Kluger in the Chachmas Shlomo OC 428 says that although kiddush levana should be recited as early as possible, in Sivan it is best to say it after Shavuos: we say "chok uzman nasan lahem shelo yeshanu es tafkidam," and it was only with Matan Torah that the laws of nature were ratified and made immutable.
So the celebration of Shavuos is unique. Our bodies and souls join in a festive celebration of the culmination of the brias ha'olam, the covenant that elevated Klal Yisrael to be the earthly representatives of the Ribono shel Olam, and a roadmap and opportunity for true communion with God. But Shavuos seems relatively poor in specific mitzvos. On Pesach, when we commemorate Yetzias Mitzrayim, we reenact the geula with the Seder and eat Matza. Sukkos, we sit in Sukkos to re-experience the Sukkos Hashem provided for us in the Midbar. On Shavuos, the King of the Shalosh Regalim, we have no special mitzvos. There is an issur melacha, there are the Shtei Halechem and Shelmei Tzibur that are kodshei kodoshim, there are Kiddush and simcha, but there is no particular and unique mitzva for individuals on Yomtov. Why is that? We try to create some physical focus for the Simchas Hayom with the minhag to eat milchiks and we stay up all night; I have no doubt that the development and success of these minhagim express and reflect our desire for special mitzvos. But these are just minhagim. Why is there no special Mitzva? In fact, the Shaarei Aharon in Emor brings a pirush (whose roshei teivos don't look good in English,) that the reason Chazal, as first appears in Onkelos, call Shavuos "Atzeres," (when in fact Shavuos is the only one of the three Regalim that the Torah does not call Atzeres,) is because it has no special ma'aseh mitva and is distinguished from other days only by issur melacha- atzira mi'me'lacha!
Even outside the context of the Yomtov of Shavuos, the basic commemoration of Matan Torah seems relatively minor. The Passuk in Devarim 4:9-10 say that we must never forget what Hashem has told us, Hishamer lecha pen tishkach...Yom asher amadeta lifnei Hashem Elokecha beChorev, but the Rambam does not count this as one of the Taryag. The Ramban, in his list of Mitzvos Lo Sa'aseh (#2) lists this obligation to remember Mattan Torah as one of the Mitzvos that he holds the Rambam should have included. In truth, both the Rambam and the Ramban need iyun. The Gemara in Menachos 99b says that the passuk in Devarim teaches that one who causes himself to forget any halacha has transgressed a torah prohibition, but the Gemara says nothing of the Ramban's Lahv. The Gemara in Kiddushin 30a uses the passuk to teach that if one teaches a grandchild Torah it is as if he is standing in front of Har Sinai while the Torah was given, again no mention of the Ramban's Lahv. On the other hand, the Rambam does not list any issur of forgetting divrei Torah, seemingly ignoring the Gemara in Menachos, and also leaves us wondering what to do with the words in the passuk "yom asher amadeta."
The Rambam, the Megilas Esther in Sefer Hamitzvos explains, didn't list this as a mitzvah, because it is, pardon the barbarism, a meta-mitzvah; it reinforces as a general matter the entire Torah. Although Anochi is a mitzvah, that is because Anochi requires that we learn to see God in His bri'ah. This, however, does nothing but remind us to remember and do all the mitzvos which we have already been told to remember and to do. Also, as the Rambam stresses in the Morah, he holds that the great importance of empiricism mandates that we eschew fanciful imaginings, and not imagine things that are outside of our experience of reality. We can't remember standing at Har Sinai, so we shouldn't create fanciful images of having been there. The Ramban deals there with the Gemara in Kiddushin.
So certainly according to the Rambam, who must view this passuk as a general reinforcement of the mitzvos and limud of the Torah, the national memory of Mattan Torah does not devolve into any practical zikaron requirement. Even according to the Ramban, that there is a mitzva of Zikaron, how does this mitzva compare to the mitva of Zechiras Yetzias Mitzrayim? One would think that Mattan Torah, that singular and unimaginably spiritual formative event, would be central to our tefillos. But Yetzias Mitzrayim is ubiquitous; in Tefilla, in Kiddush, it is constantly repeated. Mattan Torah is almost totally absent from our daily thoughts. Why is this so?
Reb Aharon Kotler (quoted in Kuntres Ha'inyanim Le'chag Hashavuos) writes that Mattan Torah is an ongoing event, it is the Kol Gadol Velo Yasaf-- lo passak. Zichronos, commemorations, are memorializations, and are appropriate only for an event that took place in the past and which resonates in the present. Mattan Torah, however, is a current event; bechal yom, yihyu be'einecha kechadashim. We sit at a seder primarily because we were redeemed at the time of Yetzias Mitrayim, and the time is one of possibility of Geula; we dwell in Sukkos because we dwelled in Sukkos, and the time is one of stronger Hashgacha Pratis. But to do something that recalls Mattan Torah would be wrong and false; we shouldn't be recalling Mattan Torah; we should be experiencing it in real time just as we did in Sinai three thousand years ago. One who is experiencing a current Mattan Torah doesn't need to artificially reinforce the experience, just as someone who lives in Florida and can look out the window and see the beach won't have a souvenir starfish on his living room mantle.
I don't think Reb Aharon would agree with this, but I would extrapolate on his approach. We assume that Matza and Lulav and Sukkah are ways of remembering the events of the past. This is certainly true. Also, we accept that Mitzvos are beyond human comprehension, and we do them because God commanded us to, knowing that there may be many hidden reasons, and that we do them even if we don't know the reasons. Indeed, this is clearly true, because many mitzvos were done before the reason given for them occured, such as Matza and Parah Adumah and Pidyon Haben. So let us speculate: Perhaps these mitzvos are not only ways of evoking the past, but are actually ways of recreating the past; of actualizing the potential of the past and bringing it into our time. The Geula of Mitzrayim stems from the segula of that date for geula in general. Be'Nissan nigalu, be'Nissan asidin le'hi'ga'el. By creating a tableau vivant, by sitting at the seder and seeing ourselves as if we had just left Mitzryim, by eating matza as our ancestors ate matza the night they left Mitzrayim, perhaps we recreate, we stimulate, we call up the power of Geula. It's a segula; not the cheap superstitious segulos of our times: the matza is not a juju or a fetish that we shake at our enemies; it is a real segula that the Ribono shel Olam has provided for us to summon up the power of geula. One might say that it is invocation through evocation.
Such Segula Mitzvos, however, are totally unnecessary for Shavuos and for Mattan Torah. Mattan Torah is not an event of the past that resonates in the present: it is an ongoing and universally accessible reality, and no summoning up is necessary. Just sit down, open a Gemara, perhaps learn with your grandchild (Kiddushin 30a), and you are standing at Har Sinai.
In any case, let's think about the lomdus of the Machlokes Ramban and Rambam. Why does the Rambam hold there is no chiyuv zechira while the Ramban holds there is? I say it is the same machlokes as the machlokes Rashi and Tosfos in Yevamos 49b whether we say "ee lo tafsi pak'i."
Reb Akiva holds that kiddushin cannot be executed when the partners are prohibited to marry. The Chachamim hold that even if they are transgressors, the marriage is a legally recognized marriage, although we force them to divorce. According to Reb Akiva, what if there was a non-problematic and legal marriage, and during the course of the marriage, an event occurred which prohibited this union. According to Rashi, "ee lo tafsi, paki." A prohibition which interferes with the execution of a marriage, which would prevent a marriage from being created, will equally end an existing marriage. Ee lo tafsi, paki; if it couldn't take hold, it is annulled. Tosfos argues. Tosfos holds that although if the prohibition preceded the marriage, it would prevent the marriage from taking place, it does not end an existing marriage.
Achronim have said that the essence of the machlokes Rashi and Tosfos revolves around the theoretical nature of a marriage contract. According to Tosfos, when a marriage is created, there is a change in the state of the parties, and this change of state is permanent and self-contained. According to Rashi, a marriage contract is permanent only because it is self-renewing. The contract creates a marriage for the moment of acceptance, and separately it renews itself the next moment, and so on for every moment of the parties' lives. As the Rogotchover is quoting as having said upon hearing this idea, tell Reb Chaim mazal tov, since according to him he is getting married anew every moment.
The Rambam holds like Tosfos. Mattan Torah was the Yom Simchas Libo, the eirusin, of Klal Yisrael to the Ribono shel Olam. This was a permanent change in status. We were all born; the fact we are alive is because we were born at a certain point, and we continue living. It's not a new chalos "life" every second. We get married, and we are married people, and we stay that way. The bechira of Klal Yisrael and the eirusin of Torah took place, and what we are stems from that event, which we remember on Shavuos. The Ramban holds like Rashi. The eirusin of Klal Yisrael was not a one time event; it is a forever self-renewing event. Every time we open a Gemara, every time we do a mitzvah, we are doing it because at that moment Hashem is telling us "Learn! Do Mitzvos!" and we are being mekabeil. This is why the Ramban tells us that we need to constantly renew the awareness of our kabalas hatorah, the eima, yira, reses and zei'ah that must accompany Kabalas Hatorah. We must remind ourselves of the nesina because it is recurring every second of our lives.
While there may be a machlokes rishonim whether there is a mitzvas zechira of Mattan Torah, there is absolutely no doubt about another zechira: Zechiras Maaseh Ha'Eigel. This is because what happened forty days after the Aseres Hadibros? The Chet Ha'Eigel. Unless we learn that lesson, remembering Har Sinai will be a waste of time. Forty days after the actual Mattan Torah, after Krias Yam Suf, after Yetzias Mitzrayim, an aveira was publicly done which insulted and denigrated the entire Torah and contravened Hashem's will. How can this have happened? It happened because things we get as gifts are cheap. If we don't work hard to earn the gifts we receive, we consider them worthless and lose them. Obviously, Klal Yisrael had spent the time of Sefira growing and learning what it meant to be Avdei Hashem and not slaves to mankind or to one's physical desires. It wasn't enough. After receiving the Torah, they should have worked harder to incorporate its lessons. They didn't, and the Matana of Torah remained a Matanah, not something they earned, and it never penetrated their souls. What you don't work hard for is very difficult to keep. A thrilling Mattan Torah, hearing and seeing and smelling the fragrance of the Aseres Hadibros, all that was not enough. It was ephemeral and superficial and ultimately fell by the wayside as they found that other religious options could be much more exciting.
Here's an East Side story; no names, but it's a maaseh she'haya that really did happen.
In the thirties and forties, being a shomer shabbos was extremely difficult for working men. This man, as many others, came home most Fridays with a pink slip and his last day's salary. But he came in with enthusiasm, and said "It's erev Shabbos! Ba Shabbos ba menucha! Baruch Hashem we have Shabbos, and next week I'll find another and a better job." Over time, he was able to make his own business, and slowly accumulated some money, and finally he bought a little house. Come Sukkos, after all the years of eating in community sukkos, for the first time he built his own sukkah in the tiny back yard. He and the kids went out to decorate it, and as they stood there wondering what to use, he said "Wait! I have the perfect decoration!" He ran into the house, and came back with a shoe box, and took out hundreds of pink slips. "This", he said, "is the perfect decoration. Every soldier has ribbons and medals he gets for the wars he fought and the wounds he got, and these are my medals and ribbons for Shemiras Shabbos and Kavod Shabbos." And he covered one whole wall with the pink slips. This is a man who earned Shemiras Shabbos. For many, Shabbas remains as it was given, a Matanah Tova. For this man, it was both a Matanah Tovah and earned.
Ne'ilas Hachag does not mean that the last man out of the building closes the lights and locks the doors. Ne'ilas hachag is the locking of Gan na'ul achosi kallah. Klal Yisrael and the Torah are the Chasan and the Kallah, and the Ne'ilah is how we lock in the his'orerus of the Yomtov, the aliyah ruchnis of Mattan Torah, and how we enrich our life-long work of earning the Matana Tova of Mattan Torah.
(For an extended discussion on how a Ne'ilas Hachag strengthens the hisorerus of Yomtov, see Ohr Gedalyahu on Pesach, which I heard about after writing this.)
~
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Shavuos and Shaltenoses
Does anyone recognize the word Shaltenoses? (shal-tih-nuh'-sess) Perhaps there is some Litvak out there for whom the word rings a bell. I think this could be a definitive test for Litvish-keit. Do you know what Shaltenosses are, or not? Since around 98% of the Jews living in Lithuania in the forties were murdered, there aren't very many of us real Lithuanians around.
For the rest of you, it's kind of a cold noodle and cottage cheese mixture, but the noodles are like a thick shreds of blintzeh dough, sans sugar, sans salt, sans shmeteneh, although you are allowed to add these things on your individual plate-- maybe, even, cinammon. I've seen some who define it as cold blintzes. Rav Micha Berger, in a comment, says it is a variant of the blintze, cooked instead of fried, servable cold. In my mesora, it's more like cold thick blintzeh dough cooked instead of fried, mixed with clumps of unsweetened cottage cheese, and then sent through a freezing wood-chipper. If shaltenosses are like blintzes, then matza is like dough-nuts.
Forgive the mixture of the banal and the divine, but for me, this occupies the same plateau of yomtov memories as Matza on Pesach and Lulav on Sukkos. For one thing, this writer eats Shaltenoses only out of ethnic loyalty, and also because any other time of the year, Shaltenoses would be seen as utterly out of place. They are a chok, not a mitzvah sichlis.
See also OC 494:3, and Magen Avraham there, and the Kitzur 103:7.
Post Shavuos notes:
1. No, it's not pronounced Shalteh-nauseous.
2. Although for some reason I remember it served most often cold, it is in fact served hot as often as cold.
For the rest of you, it's kind of a cold noodle and cottage cheese mixture, but the noodles are like a thick shreds of blintzeh dough, sans sugar, sans salt, sans shmeteneh, although you are allowed to add these things on your individual plate-- maybe, even, cinammon. I've seen some who define it as cold blintzes. Rav Micha Berger, in a comment, says it is a variant of the blintze, cooked instead of fried, servable cold. In my mesora, it's more like cold thick blintzeh dough cooked instead of fried, mixed with clumps of unsweetened cottage cheese, and then sent through a freezing wood-chipper. If shaltenosses are like blintzes, then matza is like dough-nuts.
Forgive the mixture of the banal and the divine, but for me, this occupies the same plateau of yomtov memories as Matza on Pesach and Lulav on Sukkos. For one thing, this writer eats Shaltenoses only out of ethnic loyalty, and also because any other time of the year, Shaltenoses would be seen as utterly out of place. They are a chok, not a mitzvah sichlis.
See also OC 494:3, and Magen Avraham there, and the Kitzur 103:7.
Post Shavuos notes:
1. No, it's not pronounced Shalteh-nauseous.
2. Although for some reason I remember it served most often cold, it is in fact served hot as often as cold.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Bamidbar 3:12 and 3:46. The mitzva of Pidyon Haben.
On Shabbos erev Rosh Chodesh Sivon ‘66/May 27, 2006, Reb Yaakov Feigenbaum sponsored Shalesh Seudos in honor of his first personal making of a siyum. He has been coming to the Daf since Me’ilah, which is not the masechta I would advise starting at, but Pesachim was the first masechta he made the Siyum himself. He said that he was motivated to join the Daf because R’ Shteinman said he should be kovei’ah ittim, and mostly because his son, Josh the Brisker, asked him why he wasn’t taking part in the Daf. I said the following, which has to do with the mitzva of pidyon.
The last Gemora in Psachim brings that R Simla’i attended a pidyon haben and was asked who should make the She’hechiyonu. Should the Kohen make it because he gets the pidyon, or should the father since he gets the mitzvah.
The Rashash asks, Why does Reb Simla’I assume that it’s an either A or B bracha? Why shouldn’t both the father and the Kohen each make a bracha? The Rashash answers that since it is one ma’aseh mitzvah that is being done, it’s more proper for the individual who is the greater neheneh, the one who has the more pleasure, to make the brocha, and the other to respond with Amen.
The Tzlach asks, why should the Kohen make any she’hechiyonu at all? You don’t make a bracha when you make some profit on a business deal, so why would the Kohen make a bracha here? He answers that the Kohen is also participating in the mitzvah, so his profit is connected to a kiyum hamitzva, and that’s why there’s a hava amina.
The Rosh at the end of Bechoros says that there’s no reason on Earth for the Kohen to make a birchas hamitzva here, because he’s just getting the money, and he’s not doing any mitzva at all.
It seems that the Rosh is contrary to the Tzlach, and also contrary to the hava amina here.
The answer is that there’s a big difference between birchas mitzva and she’hechiyanu. Birchas hamitzva only applies where you are being m’kayeim a chiyuv, when you are fulfilling an obligation, because doing the mitzva as you were commanded is m’kadesh you. This does not apply to the Kohen. But She’heciyanu refers to the hana’ah that results from doing the mitzva. Of course the Kohen is ne’heneh from the mitzva, because he gets the pidyon.
But now, the question arises again. If both the father and the Kohen are being neheneh from the doing of the mitzva, it is obvious that the primary beneficiary of the mitzva is the kohen. The whole point of the mitzvoh is that the Kohen should get the money! So of course as far as the hana’as kiyum hamitzva, the primary beneficiary is the person for whom the whole mitzva was created! So why shouldn’t the Kohen make the she’hechiyanu?
The answer is that the question is based on a false premise. The tachlis hamitzva is not so that the Kohen should get money. Hashem has many methods of getting money to people that should have it. The tachlis hamitzva is so that we should give money to a kohein. The fact that the kohein is ne’heneh is tangential. The same is true wherever we are commanded to give money– to the poor, for machtzis hashekel– the purpose of the mitzva is that the person should give the money to the other. The purpose of every mitzva is that the person should be influenced and elevated by the mitzva, by the act of giving. The primary beneficiary is the benefactor.
Some people do mitzvos or learn in an indifferent manner, and walk out no different that they walked in. Baruch Hashem, we have an olam that allows their learning to change their perspective, who learn with interest and enthusiasm. I mentioned then, and time has borne out the observation, that Yaakov in particular is a seeker of growth in learning, and he, and others in the shiur, have, through their participation and the example they provide, reinvigorated the shiur so that it is like we are learning it for the first time.
The last Gemora in Psachim brings that R Simla’i attended a pidyon haben and was asked who should make the She’hechiyonu. Should the Kohen make it because he gets the pidyon, or should the father since he gets the mitzvah.
The Rashash asks, Why does Reb Simla’I assume that it’s an either A or B bracha? Why shouldn’t both the father and the Kohen each make a bracha? The Rashash answers that since it is one ma’aseh mitzvah that is being done, it’s more proper for the individual who is the greater neheneh, the one who has the more pleasure, to make the brocha, and the other to respond with Amen.
The Tzlach asks, why should the Kohen make any she’hechiyonu at all? You don’t make a bracha when you make some profit on a business deal, so why would the Kohen make a bracha here? He answers that the Kohen is also participating in the mitzvah, so his profit is connected to a kiyum hamitzva, and that’s why there’s a hava amina.
The Rosh at the end of Bechoros says that there’s no reason on Earth for the Kohen to make a birchas hamitzva here, because he’s just getting the money, and he’s not doing any mitzva at all.
It seems that the Rosh is contrary to the Tzlach, and also contrary to the hava amina here.
The answer is that there’s a big difference between birchas mitzva and she’hechiyanu. Birchas hamitzva only applies where you are being m’kayeim a chiyuv, when you are fulfilling an obligation, because doing the mitzva as you were commanded is m’kadesh you. This does not apply to the Kohen. But She’heciyanu refers to the hana’ah that results from doing the mitzva. Of course the Kohen is ne’heneh from the mitzva, because he gets the pidyon.
But now, the question arises again. If both the father and the Kohen are being neheneh from the doing of the mitzva, it is obvious that the primary beneficiary of the mitzva is the kohen. The whole point of the mitzvoh is that the Kohen should get the money! So of course as far as the hana’as kiyum hamitzva, the primary beneficiary is the person for whom the whole mitzva was created! So why shouldn’t the Kohen make the she’hechiyanu?
The answer is that the question is based on a false premise. The tachlis hamitzva is not so that the Kohen should get money. Hashem has many methods of getting money to people that should have it. The tachlis hamitzva is so that we should give money to a kohein. The fact that the kohein is ne’heneh is tangential. The same is true wherever we are commanded to give money– to the poor, for machtzis hashekel– the purpose of the mitzva is that the person should give the money to the other. The purpose of every mitzva is that the person should be influenced and elevated by the mitzva, by the act of giving. The primary beneficiary is the benefactor.
Some people do mitzvos or learn in an indifferent manner, and walk out no different that they walked in. Baruch Hashem, we have an olam that allows their learning to change their perspective, who learn with interest and enthusiasm. I mentioned then, and time has borne out the observation, that Yaakov in particular is a seeker of growth in learning, and he, and others in the shiur, have, through their participation and the example they provide, reinvigorated the shiur so that it is like we are learning it for the first time.
Bamidbar 1:49 Contronyms: מילים שיש להם מובנים הפכיים
The National Census discussed in this week's Torah portion can be viewed in entirely different ways. Reb Yakov Kaminecki says that counting can be a purely secular matter, to assess military strength or to apportion resources, in which case it evidences a lack of trust in God's promise of victory. On the other hand, it could be motivated by a spiritual purpose, so that the Jewish nation could better emulate the Merkovo, the heavenly host that appeared at Har Sinai, or as Rashi says, "kedei l’hashros Shechinoso aleihem", in order to rest the heavenly presence upon them.
The hamon am, the unenlightened among the people, viewed it as military planning, a lack of faith which later expressed itself in the Chet Hameraglim, the sin of the spies, who said that a realistic comparison of the Jewish people's military strength and the Canaanite armies indicated that the Jews would be routed.
The Levites, on the other hand, understood the real purpose of the Census. The Jewish Nation did not base their decisions on ostensible military realities or on mundane considerations of resources and actuarial prognostication. They were the Nation of God, who, while inhabiting a natural world, were in God's hand and under God's protection, and therefore above the vagaries and caprice of chance or the dismal calculations of economics and strategy.
Reb Yaakov points out that the the Torah says, in 1:2, "Se’u es rosh kol adas b’nei Yisroel." Also, the word "Naso" is used in the beginning of the next Parshah. This expression can have contrary meanings: in the story of Yosef interpreting the dreams of the Sar haofim and the Sar hamashkim, he used the expression "yisa roshcha" for both the sar hamashkim and the sar ha’ofim, but in one case it meant yisa roshcha, he will be elevated and respected, and the in the other it meant yisa roshcha mei’alecha, his head will be separated from his body. One word; two diametrically opposed meanings.
When Christopher Wren completed his Cathedral in the late 1600s, King Charles II was brought to see that great architectural work, which he had commissioned. He said that he found it “awful, artificial, and amusing.” Christopher Wren felt highly honored. He had received a great compliment. At that time, awful meant awe-inspiring or awesome, artificial meant a work of art and craftsmanship, and amusing meant inspired by a muse, or a work of genius. Sometimes, one word can have two meanings that are very, very different. In fact, in a few odd cases, those two meanings are not only different, but actually opposite. This is not like ‘pitted,’ which can mean with pits or pits removed, or boreich, (as in “hamevareich es Hashem,” which means to curse the heavens,) which can be used euphemistically or ironically to have the opposite of the usual meaning. The words I refer to here really have two diametrically opposed definitions. For example, in English, we have the words cleave, which means to cling but also means to split; fast, meaning moving quickly but also immobile; bolt, which means to screw into place, but also to quickly run away; temper, which means quick to heated anger but also to quickly cool off; qualified, which means unquestionably fit, but also unsure and doubtful, and sanction. These words have been described as auto-antonyms, enantiosemic or Janus-words, or, Richard Lederer’s neologism, contronyms.
Freud, in a paper published in 1910 ("Uber den Gegensinn der Urworte", "The Antithetical Meaning of Primal Words") refers to this phenomenon, and builds on the theories of a philologist named Abel in 1884. Freud claimed that this displacement expressed itself in dream symbolism, where instead of visualizing something disturbing, a person will dream about its opposite. As Lacan recently said, "the unconscious is structured like a language" I once had a brief correspondence with Professor Laurence Horn, author of A Natural History of Negation (Chicago, 1989), in which he suggested that not only was Freud’s philology utterly unscientific and erroneous, but that his theories were bizarre, and interesting primarily for the window they provided into Freud’s subconscious. In any case, we are not writing here about the history of negation, nor about Freud’s ideas on the subject. We are writing only from the Torah perspective. However, I do find it interesting and ironic that Freud missed a classic example of this theory as applied to dream symbolism-- that when Yosef interpreted the dreams of the butler and the baker, Yosef interpreted identical words and image in the two dreams as having opposite meaning– yisa roshcha either meaning (for the butler) lift your head by pardoning you, or (for the baker) lift your head by removing it from your shoulders, as Reb Yakov Kaminecki noted, quoted above. Let us then disregard Freud's theories about the gegensinn of urworte and focus on developed languages. In the case of such words in, for example, English, one assumes that these chimeras developed because two words that come from different languages coincidentally sounded the same and were joined in the English language, or the same root word was used differently by distantly separated groups. In Hebrew, a language that developed among and was used by a small and relatively homogenous group of people, one would think that such cases would not exist, or would be extremely rare. In fact, however, we find a vast array of such words in Hebrew.
The word Keles can mean praise and glory, but it can also mean shame and disgrace— la’ag vakeles, but le’alei ulikaleis. Atzura can mean attached, or separated. Yosof can mean to add, but it can mean absolutely finished. And the word ‘Chet’ can mean sin, but it can mean cleansing. Arum, from the story of creation in the beginning of Chumash, is another example. Applied to Adam and Chava, it means uncovered, or exposed. Applied to the Nochosh, it means covert, shrewd, or deceptive. And there is also ‘pokad,’ which means remember, as in “pokad es Soroh,” but also missing, as in “lo nifkad mimenu ish.” (A complete list of these words follows this discussion, below.) This duality is noted by the Rambam in his “Moreh Nevuchim.” His example is the word “ponim.” Ponim means face, the exterior, the exposed surface. On the other hand, ponim is very close to ‘Pnim,’ which means the interior, the hidden, and to ‘Lofonim,’ which means long ago, or hidden in the past. According to the Rambam, this phenomenon is not isolated. Instead, he says, the recurrence and centrality of this phenomenon teaches that one must always assume that a word implies something very different from what our initial presumption leads us to believe. Whenever a word is used in the Torah, there is the manifest meaning that is indicated by the context, but there is also a hint, a trace, of a meaning that is very different. In fact, we can use the Rambam’s example as the symbol of this concept— every word has a ponim, a face, a literal and self-evident meaning, but it also has a pnim, an interior in which a meaning that is very different is hiding.
In our tradition, words are very powerful things. They are not merely a tool to enable communication, but instead were created at the same time– and with the same creative power and significance as– the tangible world. Words reflect, in a manner of speaking, the soul of reality. When we realize that words in the Torah are written to have an inherent duality, we must understand that the Torah is teaching us that it is not only words that may contain opposite meanings. The duality of these words teaches us that there is a duality in life itself. Although things mean what they mean, they carry within themselves the potential to mean the opposite. Through the creation of one, the potential for the other is also created. Every thing has a ponim, but it also has a pnim. It has within it a little seed that can grow and produce the opposite of the ponim. A sin, chet, creates the need for cleansing, and remembering, pokad, means that something had previously been, and might in the future be, forgotten. We compose our ponim, our face, to hide what is bifnim, hidden in our hearts.
Chazal apply this philosophy to the greatest of all good things, the Torah itself. It says in Chumash, “vesahmtem es devorai eileh ahl levavchem.” The Gemora says that the Torah is a ‘sahm,’ like a medicine. If one merits, the Torah will be his medicine of life. If he does not merit, then the Torah can be his poison. If one merits, he will draw life from the well of Torah. But if one is not worthy, his behavior will cause that dangerous little seed to sprout and produce not life, but his own destruction.
This is closely related to the philosophical concept called “zeh le’umas zeh.” Hashem told Moshe that he must lead the Bnei Yisroel in a war against the Midyanim, and that after that war he, Moshe, would die. We have to wonder, why does the Torah associate Moshe’s death with the war against Midyan? Was it merely a calendric coincidence, that the war was scheduled first, and Moshe’s death second? There seems to be more to the connection than that. Chazal tell us that Bilaam, the great and evil prophet, died during that war. When Bilaam the Rosho died, Moshe Rabbeinu had to die. Similarly, when the magic of Avodah Zarah came to an end, true prophecy disappeared. The world has to remain in balance, there has to be a tension between good and bad. The divine gift of human free will cannot be disturbed. Not only do words contain contrary meanings, but the world as a whole must be balanced between clashing forces, to the extent that every moment of great holiness creates the potential for evil, and vice versa. And perhaps we can take this even further— every event that takes place, every thing that we experience, every action we take, can result in good things or bad. The expression “blinding sun” also evokes this concept. Light is necessary for vision, but too much light can inhibit, even destroy, vision. Yisro saw the hashgochas Hashem on Klal Yisroel, and he came to join us. Amalek was exposed to the same light, and was blinded by it. Of course, the expression “sagi nahor” is a euphemism, but it can be seen as meaning that the person cannot see just like a person that cannot see because he has too much light. In Yeshaya 55:13 it says, “Tachas hana’atzutz ya’aleh verosh vesachas hasirpod ya’aleh hadas.” This doesn’t only mean that the good berosh and hadas will replace the bad thorns. It means that the thorns themselves will become the source of beroshim and hadasim. And in the next perek it says (56:3-5) “let not the childless say, behold, I am a dry tree...I will give them in my house and in my walls a place and a name.” This, too, means that the suffering and sadness that people experience will enable them to reap blessings greater than they would have been capable of receiving if they had a calmer life.
There is a remarkable Chazal that talks about the power of teshuva. If one does teshuva properly, “zedonosov ne’esin lo kezachuyos.” This means, not only can teshuva erase the red ink in our account book, but it can transform a debit into a credit. Hashem views the sin as if it were a meritorious act. On the other hand, if a person does a mitzvah, and becomes a ba’al ga’avah, or uses his reputation for personal gain or to accomplish wicked things, or creates a chillul hashem, then his mitzvah becomes an aveirah. It is not merely that his merit is erased: his mitzvah, meritorious at the time it was done, is viewed in retrospect as if it were a wicked thing. As A member of my shiur, Lothar Kahn, says, “vehoseir sotton milifoneinu umili’achareinu—” first, the Yeitzer Hora stands in our way to stop us from doing mitzvos. If we overcome him, and do the mitzvah, right away he gives us a yasher koach and says “You are such a tzadik!” This, too, can generate excessive confidence and haughtiness, which ultimately leads to a downfall. Here is the list of words for the moment. If you are aware of any others, please write me at eliezere@aol.com.
Keles
Sotah 27a top of the daf Kodesh Yosof Bamidbar 11:26, and by Yehuda and Tomor, as Rashi mentions there..
Otzar
See Kedushin 6a Ozov can mean abandon/leave, can mean stay and help. See Shemos 23:5. (it’s interesting to note that in I Melochim 14:10, it says "otzur ve'ozuv b’Yisroel.” Rashi there explains ‘ozuv’ in that possuk differently than where he brings the possuk in Shmos. In any case, both words, ‘otzur’ and ‘ozuv’, are on this list.
Cheit
Nacheim
(console/acceptance/comfort, and remorse). But see Rashi in Chumash by No’ach, where he says that it just means change of heart, which could be regret or consolation. Orum Ponim Rambam in Moreh
Pakad
(Pakad es Sarah, lo nifkad mimenu ish. So ploni nifkad could mean remembered or lost.) Seichel/Sachal. (The difference between a Shin Smalis and a samach is insignificant to everyone except Rava in Sotah 4b. Come to think of it, Maseches Sotah is a funny place for Rava to make that point. I guess that in Rava's Gemara, Sotah and Kli Cheres were spelled with a Shin Smalis.)
Tzedek
(arguable, because it is not justice/mercy, but rather righteousness, or rectitude.)
Chalatz
(armed and ready to pioneer, and abdication/withdrawal)
The hamon am, the unenlightened among the people, viewed it as military planning, a lack of faith which later expressed itself in the Chet Hameraglim, the sin of the spies, who said that a realistic comparison of the Jewish people's military strength and the Canaanite armies indicated that the Jews would be routed.
The Levites, on the other hand, understood the real purpose of the Census. The Jewish Nation did not base their decisions on ostensible military realities or on mundane considerations of resources and actuarial prognostication. They were the Nation of God, who, while inhabiting a natural world, were in God's hand and under God's protection, and therefore above the vagaries and caprice of chance or the dismal calculations of economics and strategy.
Reb Yaakov points out that the the Torah says, in 1:2, "Se’u es rosh kol adas b’nei Yisroel." Also, the word "Naso" is used in the beginning of the next Parshah. This expression can have contrary meanings: in the story of Yosef interpreting the dreams of the Sar haofim and the Sar hamashkim, he used the expression "yisa roshcha" for both the sar hamashkim and the sar ha’ofim, but in one case it meant yisa roshcha, he will be elevated and respected, and the in the other it meant yisa roshcha mei’alecha, his head will be separated from his body. One word; two diametrically opposed meanings.
When Christopher Wren completed his Cathedral in the late 1600s, King Charles II was brought to see that great architectural work, which he had commissioned. He said that he found it “awful, artificial, and amusing.” Christopher Wren felt highly honored. He had received a great compliment. At that time, awful meant awe-inspiring or awesome, artificial meant a work of art and craftsmanship, and amusing meant inspired by a muse, or a work of genius. Sometimes, one word can have two meanings that are very, very different. In fact, in a few odd cases, those two meanings are not only different, but actually opposite. This is not like ‘pitted,’ which can mean with pits or pits removed, or boreich, (as in “hamevareich es Hashem,” which means to curse the heavens,) which can be used euphemistically or ironically to have the opposite of the usual meaning. The words I refer to here really have two diametrically opposed definitions. For example, in English, we have the words cleave, which means to cling but also means to split; fast, meaning moving quickly but also immobile; bolt, which means to screw into place, but also to quickly run away; temper, which means quick to heated anger but also to quickly cool off; qualified, which means unquestionably fit, but also unsure and doubtful, and sanction. These words have been described as auto-antonyms, enantiosemic or Janus-words, or, Richard Lederer’s neologism, contronyms.
Freud, in a paper published in 1910 ("Uber den Gegensinn der Urworte", "The Antithetical Meaning of Primal Words") refers to this phenomenon, and builds on the theories of a philologist named Abel in 1884. Freud claimed that this displacement expressed itself in dream symbolism, where instead of visualizing something disturbing, a person will dream about its opposite. As Lacan recently said, "the unconscious is structured like a language" I once had a brief correspondence with Professor Laurence Horn, author of A Natural History of Negation (Chicago, 1989), in which he suggested that not only was Freud’s philology utterly unscientific and erroneous, but that his theories were bizarre, and interesting primarily for the window they provided into Freud’s subconscious. In any case, we are not writing here about the history of negation, nor about Freud’s ideas on the subject. We are writing only from the Torah perspective. However, I do find it interesting and ironic that Freud missed a classic example of this theory as applied to dream symbolism-- that when Yosef interpreted the dreams of the butler and the baker, Yosef interpreted identical words and image in the two dreams as having opposite meaning– yisa roshcha either meaning (for the butler) lift your head by pardoning you, or (for the baker) lift your head by removing it from your shoulders, as Reb Yakov Kaminecki noted, quoted above. Let us then disregard Freud's theories about the gegensinn of urworte and focus on developed languages. In the case of such words in, for example, English, one assumes that these chimeras developed because two words that come from different languages coincidentally sounded the same and were joined in the English language, or the same root word was used differently by distantly separated groups. In Hebrew, a language that developed among and was used by a small and relatively homogenous group of people, one would think that such cases would not exist, or would be extremely rare. In fact, however, we find a vast array of such words in Hebrew.
The word Keles can mean praise and glory, but it can also mean shame and disgrace— la’ag vakeles, but le’alei ulikaleis. Atzura can mean attached, or separated. Yosof can mean to add, but it can mean absolutely finished. And the word ‘Chet’ can mean sin, but it can mean cleansing. Arum, from the story of creation in the beginning of Chumash, is another example. Applied to Adam and Chava, it means uncovered, or exposed. Applied to the Nochosh, it means covert, shrewd, or deceptive. And there is also ‘pokad,’ which means remember, as in “pokad es Soroh,” but also missing, as in “lo nifkad mimenu ish.” (A complete list of these words follows this discussion, below.) This duality is noted by the Rambam in his “Moreh Nevuchim.” His example is the word “ponim.” Ponim means face, the exterior, the exposed surface. On the other hand, ponim is very close to ‘Pnim,’ which means the interior, the hidden, and to ‘Lofonim,’ which means long ago, or hidden in the past. According to the Rambam, this phenomenon is not isolated. Instead, he says, the recurrence and centrality of this phenomenon teaches that one must always assume that a word implies something very different from what our initial presumption leads us to believe. Whenever a word is used in the Torah, there is the manifest meaning that is indicated by the context, but there is also a hint, a trace, of a meaning that is very different. In fact, we can use the Rambam’s example as the symbol of this concept— every word has a ponim, a face, a literal and self-evident meaning, but it also has a pnim, an interior in which a meaning that is very different is hiding.
In our tradition, words are very powerful things. They are not merely a tool to enable communication, but instead were created at the same time– and with the same creative power and significance as– the tangible world. Words reflect, in a manner of speaking, the soul of reality. When we realize that words in the Torah are written to have an inherent duality, we must understand that the Torah is teaching us that it is not only words that may contain opposite meanings. The duality of these words teaches us that there is a duality in life itself. Although things mean what they mean, they carry within themselves the potential to mean the opposite. Through the creation of one, the potential for the other is also created. Every thing has a ponim, but it also has a pnim. It has within it a little seed that can grow and produce the opposite of the ponim. A sin, chet, creates the need for cleansing, and remembering, pokad, means that something had previously been, and might in the future be, forgotten. We compose our ponim, our face, to hide what is bifnim, hidden in our hearts.
Chazal apply this philosophy to the greatest of all good things, the Torah itself. It says in Chumash, “vesahmtem es devorai eileh ahl levavchem.” The Gemora says that the Torah is a ‘sahm,’ like a medicine. If one merits, the Torah will be his medicine of life. If he does not merit, then the Torah can be his poison. If one merits, he will draw life from the well of Torah. But if one is not worthy, his behavior will cause that dangerous little seed to sprout and produce not life, but his own destruction.
This is closely related to the philosophical concept called “zeh le’umas zeh.” Hashem told Moshe that he must lead the Bnei Yisroel in a war against the Midyanim, and that after that war he, Moshe, would die. We have to wonder, why does the Torah associate Moshe’s death with the war against Midyan? Was it merely a calendric coincidence, that the war was scheduled first, and Moshe’s death second? There seems to be more to the connection than that. Chazal tell us that Bilaam, the great and evil prophet, died during that war. When Bilaam the Rosho died, Moshe Rabbeinu had to die. Similarly, when the magic of Avodah Zarah came to an end, true prophecy disappeared. The world has to remain in balance, there has to be a tension between good and bad. The divine gift of human free will cannot be disturbed. Not only do words contain contrary meanings, but the world as a whole must be balanced between clashing forces, to the extent that every moment of great holiness creates the potential for evil, and vice versa. And perhaps we can take this even further— every event that takes place, every thing that we experience, every action we take, can result in good things or bad. The expression “blinding sun” also evokes this concept. Light is necessary for vision, but too much light can inhibit, even destroy, vision. Yisro saw the hashgochas Hashem on Klal Yisroel, and he came to join us. Amalek was exposed to the same light, and was blinded by it. Of course, the expression “sagi nahor” is a euphemism, but it can be seen as meaning that the person cannot see just like a person that cannot see because he has too much light. In Yeshaya 55:13 it says, “Tachas hana’atzutz ya’aleh verosh vesachas hasirpod ya’aleh hadas.” This doesn’t only mean that the good berosh and hadas will replace the bad thorns. It means that the thorns themselves will become the source of beroshim and hadasim. And in the next perek it says (56:3-5) “let not the childless say, behold, I am a dry tree...I will give them in my house and in my walls a place and a name.” This, too, means that the suffering and sadness that people experience will enable them to reap blessings greater than they would have been capable of receiving if they had a calmer life.
There is a remarkable Chazal that talks about the power of teshuva. If one does teshuva properly, “zedonosov ne’esin lo kezachuyos.” This means, not only can teshuva erase the red ink in our account book, but it can transform a debit into a credit. Hashem views the sin as if it were a meritorious act. On the other hand, if a person does a mitzvah, and becomes a ba’al ga’avah, or uses his reputation for personal gain or to accomplish wicked things, or creates a chillul hashem, then his mitzvah becomes an aveirah. It is not merely that his merit is erased: his mitzvah, meritorious at the time it was done, is viewed in retrospect as if it were a wicked thing. As A member of my shiur, Lothar Kahn, says, “vehoseir sotton milifoneinu umili’achareinu—” first, the Yeitzer Hora stands in our way to stop us from doing mitzvos. If we overcome him, and do the mitzvah, right away he gives us a yasher koach and says “You are such a tzadik!” This, too, can generate excessive confidence and haughtiness, which ultimately leads to a downfall. Here is the list of words for the moment. If you are aware of any others, please write me at eliezere@aol.com.
Keles
Sotah 27a top of the daf Kodesh Yosof Bamidbar 11:26, and by Yehuda and Tomor, as Rashi mentions there..
Otzar
See Kedushin 6a Ozov can mean abandon/leave, can mean stay and help. See Shemos 23:5. (it’s interesting to note that in I Melochim 14:10, it says "otzur ve'ozuv b’Yisroel.” Rashi there explains ‘ozuv’ in that possuk differently than where he brings the possuk in Shmos. In any case, both words, ‘otzur’ and ‘ozuv’, are on this list.
Cheit
Nacheim
(console/acceptance/comfort, and remorse). But see Rashi in Chumash by No’ach, where he says that it just means change of heart, which could be regret or consolation. Orum Ponim Rambam in Moreh
Pakad
(Pakad es Sarah, lo nifkad mimenu ish. So ploni nifkad could mean remembered or lost.) Seichel/Sachal. (The difference between a Shin Smalis and a samach is insignificant to everyone except Rava in Sotah 4b. Come to think of it, Maseches Sotah is a funny place for Rava to make that point. I guess that in Rava's Gemara, Sotah and Kli Cheres were spelled with a Shin Smalis.)
Tzedek
(arguable, because it is not justice/mercy, but rather righteousness, or rectitude.)
Chalatz
(armed and ready to pioneer, and abdication/withdrawal)
Tzofeh (see, and remove from sight/hide, as in tzafun) Malbim Yehoshua 2:4-
הצפון הוא העומד במקום שאין העין רואהו (והוא ההיפוך מפעל צפה, כדרך השרשים המשמשים דבר והפוכו)
Mahul
(mixed/blended, and separated/cut off.) (Might be wrong, because one is Mol and the other is mohal.)
Raga: Yeshaya 51:4, it means "calm" and "placid." Yeshaya 51:15, ten psukim later, it means "agitated" or "turbulent."
Ohn
Breishis 35:18, Rachel meant weakness/suffering, Yakov meant strength. See Rashi there. (Coincidentally, that parsha, Vayeishev, also contains the word Yasaf, where it says about Yehuda and Tamar that lo yasaf le'da'ata.)
Deshen. Ash and luxury/fat/fertility.
Aratz. In Yeshaya 2:19, it means "Shatter."
(mixed/blended, and separated/cut off.) (Might be wrong, because one is Mol and the other is mohal.)
Raga: Yeshaya 51:4, it means "calm" and "placid." Yeshaya 51:15, ten psukim later, it means "agitated" or "turbulent."
Ohn
Breishis 35:18, Rachel meant weakness/suffering, Yakov meant strength. See Rashi there. (Coincidentally, that parsha, Vayeishev, also contains the word Yasaf, where it says about Yehuda and Tamar that lo yasaf le'da'ata.)
Deshen. Ash and luxury/fat/fertility.
Aratz. In Yeshaya 2:19, it means "Shatter."
Tzofeh/Tzafun
Yehoshua 2:4, in the Malbim: Tzafun means off to the side, where nobody is looking. Tzofeh means seeing from a distance or piercing vision.
וּבָ֙אוּ֙ בִּמְעָר֣וֹת צֻרִ֔ים וּבִמְחִלּ֖וֹת עָפָ֑ר מִפְּנֵ֞י פַּ֤חַד יְהוָה֙ וּמֵהֲדַ֣ר גְּאוֹנ֔וֹ בְּקוּמ֖וֹ לַעֲרֹ֥ץ הָאָֽרֶץ׃
Elsewhere, it means praise, or praiseworthy, such as in Kedusha, נעריצך. (So when we say נעריצך ונקדישך, both words can mean their opposite.) Also found as "tyrant" or "tyrannical" in
”לָכֵן, הִנְנִי מֵבִיא עָלֶיךָ זָרִים עָרִיצֵי גּוֹיִם...“ (יחזקל כח, פסוק ז)
” רָאִיתִי רָשָׁע עָרִיץ; וּמִתְעָרֶה כְּאֶזְרָח רַעֲנָן“ (תהילים לז, פסוק לה)
”וּמַלְּטוּנִי מִיַּד צָר; וּמִיַּד עָרִיצִים תִּפְדּוּנִי“ (איוב כו, פסוק ג)
but "mighty" in
”וַיהוָה אוֹתִי כְּגִבּוֹר עָרִיץ, עַל כֵּן רֹדְפַי יִכָּשְׁלוּ וְלֹא יֻכָלוּ...“ (ירמיהו כ, פסוק יא)
Interestingly, as the Navi Yeshaya is wont to do, he contrasts the two meanings in succeeding pesukim:8:12
לֹא־תֹאמְרוּן קֶשֶׁר לְכֹל אֲשֶׁר־יֹאמַר הָעָם הַזֶּה קָשֶׁר וְאֶת־מוֹרָאוֹ לֹא־תִירְאוּ וְלֹא תַעֲרִיצוּ׃
8:13
אֶת־יְהוָה צְבָאוֹת אֹתוֹ תַקְדִּישׁוּ וְהוּא מוֹרַאֲכֶם וְהוּא מַעֲרִצְכֶם׃
למשחה means ligdulah. משחתם בהם means degradation.
Note, also, that wherever these words occur, Rashi states that the two meaning stem from the same idea. He opposes the Rambam’s concept of true contradictory meaning co-existing in a word. For example, Rashi says that the reason Keles means two opposite things is because Keles means
"arousing talk about unusual character." See Rashi Yechezkel 22:4. See also Rashi Kiddushin 6a DH Atzurasi. Most important, see Rashi Sotah 27a DH Dumah. For an excellent example of Rashi's opposition to this concept and the alternative he offers, see Rashi Yechezkel 23:17.
מילים שיש להם מובנים הפכיים
קלס
קודש
יסף
עצר
עזב
חטא
נחם
ערום
פנים
פקד
שכל
צדק
חלץ
צפה
מהל
רגע
און
דשן
ערץ
משחה
UPDATE October 2, 2011, Three Tishrei Ayin Beis.
We just layned Parshas Haazinu, and I was with my mother shlitah in the hospital with a Gemara and a Chumash for two days, the second day of Rosh Hashanna and Shabbos. I looked at Haazinu more carefully than previously, and I noticed that there is a machlokes brought by Rashi from the Sifrei between Reb Yehuda and Reb Nechemia on passuk 32:36.
כִּי יָדִין ה' עַמּוֹ וְעַל עֲבָדָיו יִתְנֶחָם
כִּי יִרְאֶה כִּי אָזְלַת יָד וְאֶפֶס עָצוּר וְעָזוּב
As it turns out, Reb Yehuda and Reb Nechemia learn almost every word in these psukim as meaning diametrically opposed things, with Azlas, Atzur, and Azuv having opposite meanings respectively. Remarkably, this string of dual meanings is introduced with the word Yisnecham.
UPDATE June 10, 2020, 18 Sivan Pei.
Someone identifying himself as Desikan Jeyaram posed the following question on Quora:
Is the Hebrew word chesed (חָ֫סֶד) an auto-antonym?
The answer is yes. Rashi takes pains to deny it, but others would say that it is another contronym. The usual meaning is צדקה. רחמים, but it can also mean תועבה, חרפה.
I know Rashi talks about it, but I don't remember where. I do know the Ramban also says that it always means kindness and sympathy. The Ramban is in Vayikra 20:17 beginning with והנכון בעיני במלת "חסד" שהוא כמשמעו.
UPDATE June 10, 2020, 18 Sivan Pei.
Someone identifying himself as Desikan Jeyaram posed the following question on Quora:
Is the Hebrew word chesed (חָ֫סֶד) an auto-antonym?
The answer is yes. Rashi takes pains to deny it, but others would say that it is another contronym. The usual meaning is צדקה. רחמים, but it can also mean תועבה, חרפה.
I know Rashi talks about it, but I don't remember where. I do know the Ramban also says that it always means kindness and sympathy. The Ramban is in Vayikra 20:17 beginning with והנכון בעיני במלת "חסד" שהוא כמשמעו.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Hebrew Names, Jewish Names, & Secular Names. A Guest Post, Annotated
This was originally posted here in May 2009. In June 2013 we posted on three closely related topics: When one should name a daughter; The profound significance of the naming of a child; and Why some Gedolim insist that we only give our children traditional names.
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This is an article that appeared in the "Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society" (Fall 1997.) I referred to it in a post that discussed Jewish names that are abbreviations, and the author kindly sent me a copy. The article is thorough and engaging; Some format static was introduced by my inexpert conversion of the document from pdf to html. I have neither the skill nor the inclination to fiddle around with it, and the errors are inconsequential.
I have added my own remarks in and after the footnotes, and my interpolations, annotations, and addenda are clearly marked as such by being in bold italics.
Secular Names
Steven Oppenheimer, D.D.S.
And G-d formed from the earth every beast of the field and every bird of the sky and brought them to Adam to see what he would call each one; and whatever Adam called each living creature, that remained its name (Hu Sh'mo).1
Rav Shamshon Raphael Hirsch2 says the word Shem (name) comes from the word Sham (place). A person's name (Shem) indicates his place in the world. When someone is given a name, that name has a profound effect on that person's essence. The Besht, the Ba'al Shem Tov, commenting on this verse in Genesis,3 wrote HaShem Hu Ha'Neshama Shel Ha'Adam, one's name is one's very soul. In fact, the middle letters of the word neSHaMa (soul), spell the word Shem (name).
The Midrash states:
The Jews were redeemed from Egypt through the merit of four things: they didn't change their names, they didn't change their language, they didn't engage in gossip (Lashon HaRa), and they didn't engage in licentious behavior; they didn't change their names, they went down [to Egypt] as Reuven and Shimon and they left [Egypt] as Reuven and Shimon; and they didn't call Reuven, Rufus, and they didn't call Shimon, Luliani, nor Yosef, Listim nor Binyamin, Alexander.4
If a person's name is so important, and if the Midrash states that the Jews were redeemed from Egypt because they didn't change their names, how is it that today, secular names are so widespread among Jews? If one can learn from Galut Mitzrayim, the exile in Egypt, and extrapolate from Geulat Mitzrayim, the redemption from Egypt, then it would seem that we should not have secular names, but good Hebrew names! How is it that so many Jews in America today have Hebrew and English names? Could it be that we are holding up the Geulah by having secular names?
Maharam Shick5 quotes the Midrash, (that they didn't change their names) and writes that it is a Torah prohibition to have a non-Jewish name. We see this from the verse Hivdalti etchem min Ha'Amim, (and I have separated you from the nations)?6 Maharam Shick quotes Rambam7, that we see from this verse that one is not permitted to dress like the Gentiles. So, too, says Maharam Shick, we are not allowed to call ourselves by a non-Jewish name. "And don't say", says Maharam Shick, "that I also have a Hebrew name to be called up to the Torah, that is foolish and stupid, and it is still prohibited to have a non-Jewish name."
The Talmud8 quotes the verse in Mishle9, "and the name of the wicked shall rot," and brings a grim story referred to in a passage from Lamentations.10 A child was given the name Do'eg (in spite of Do'eg's bad reputation).11 His mother would measure his weight every day and would give the increase in his weight in gold to the Beit HaMikdash. In spite of this, the child died a horrible death. The Talmud states that none should name their children after wicked people and because of the unfortunate choice of name and the deviation from custom, "see what happened to him." The Migdal Oz, Rabbi Ya'akov Emden, writes12 that just as we are not allowed to name someone after a wicked person as it says in Mishle, "and the name of the wicked shall rot," so too, it is also not permitted to have a non-Jewish name.
Rabbi Yosef Rosen, zt"l, writes13 that one is permitted to have a secular name that is a translation of one's Hebrew name.
It interesting that the Chatam Sofer, writes14 that someone who has two names, shem kodesh and shem chol, a Hebrew name and a secular name, should not be called to the Torah by both names. He was not referring to the Hebrew name and the English name but to the Hebrew name and the Yiddish name. The Yiddish name is the shem chol, the secular name. If your name is Tzvi Hersh you should only be called up by the name Tzvi.
How is it that so many of us have Hebrew and secular names? Not only that, but throughout the ages we see Jews have taken secular names. We find many non-Hebrew names among the zugot mentioned in Pirkei Avot. Antigonos and Avtalyon are some examples. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, zt"l, points out that many Amoraim had non-Hebrew names, such as Mar Kashisha, Rav Z'vid, Mar Zutra, and Rav Papa. Most of the names of the Geonim were Aramaic and not Hebrew. The author of the Maggid Mishnah was Rabbeinu Vidal. The name Maimon, the father of Rambam, appears to be a secular name.15 Rav Yitzchak Zev Soloveitchik of Brisk was also called Rav Velvele; his grandfather, Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, the Bait HaLevi, was called Rav Yoshe Ber, and Rav Yitzchok Dov Bamberger of Wurtzburg was called Rav Seligman Ber.16 The great thirteenth-century leader of French Jewry was known by the Hebrew name, Rav Yechiel of Paris and by the French, Vivant of Meaux.17
Doesn't all this seem to be against the Midrash that we spoke of earlier? Rav Moshe Feinstein states18 that many non-Hebrew names that have gained acceptance in the Jewish community today as Jewish names started out as secular names taken from the countries in which Jews lived. At the time, says Rav Moshe, the rabbis complained about Jews taking these names, but they eventually gained acceptance. Today's secular names are not any worse than the old secular names. The new names just haven't been around as long. Eventually, they, too, will probably be accepted. And, therefore, when one writes a get, a bill of divorce, all secular names are equal, one isn't any holier than another.
Let us address, then, the last two remaining questions: (1) What about the Midrash, (they did not change their names) and, therefore, the Jews merited redemption? And if this is so, (2) Why do so many of us have a secular name? Rabbi Yehuda Loew, zt"l, the Maharal MiPrague, explains our Midrash as a special requirement only for the Jews of Egypt.19 They had not yet become a nation and needed the strict adherence to retaining their names and their language to serve as a distinction between them and the Egyptians. Rabbi Loew explains that one's name serves as one's personal connection to one's nation. A people's language serves as its connection to its nationhood. Rav Moshe also makes this point, that the requirement not to have a secular name was only for that period in time and is not a law today. While it may not be desirable to give your child a secular name, there is no issur (prohibition) involved.
As for the second question, "Why do so many of us have secular names?", I would like to share a fascinating historical insight. There are, apparently, three categories of names that Jews have had. 1) Shem kodesh – names taken from Tanach (Bible) or Gemara (Talmud). These were given at the Brit and were used for Aliyahs to the Torah, Jewish legal documents, and in prayers for the sick. 2) Shem chol – these were usually Yiddish-German nicknames that were given on the Shabbat that the mother came to Shul during the Cholkreisch (hollekreisch) ceremony. In Eastern Europe, in recent generations, this ceremony has been lost. 3) Shem lo yehudi – during the period of emancipation, these names were adopted by the Jews of Central and Western Europe for the purpose of governmental registration. These names were unrelated to the Cholkreisch ceremony.
The purpose of the Cholkreisch ceremony was to establish the child's nickname, the shem chol, to be used in his everyday life. The Cholkreisch ceremony is about 1,000 years old. Rav Simcha of Vitry20 and Rabbi Yehuda HaChasid both write about this ceremony. The first one to mention it by name and explain the name, however, was the fifteenth-century Rabbi Moshe HaLevi MiMagentza, the Maharam Mintz. He explained that Hol or Chol referred to the secular name and Kreisch referred to the calling out (Tze'a'ka) of that name. ["In German, in the southern region, they call Tze'a'ka, kreisch."]
Rabbi Avraham Moshe Tendlau (1801-1877) wrote that the word "kreisch" used in the sense of "Tze'aka" comes from the old German "kreien", or "kreischen". This is similar to the English word in use today, 'cry']. On the first Shabbat that the mother came to Shul, the children of the community would be invited to the home of the new baby. They would lift up the cradle and call out the nickname, the shem chol, of the new baby. The adults would throw fruit to the children. The sixteenth-century rabbi, Rabbi Yosef Hahn Neuerlingen, author of Yosef Ohmetz, warned about the custom of throwing fruit to the children. The fruit got squashed and this was Bizui Ochlin, a desecration of food. The custom arose to throw candy to the children. This is probably the origin of today's custom to throw candy to the children at joyous occasions in shul. There are those who say that the lifting of the cradle during the naming is the origin of the name Hollekreisch. In French, lifting the cradle is called, "haut la creche" which is similar to the term "hollekreisch".21
Rabbeinu Tam22 indicates that Jews would give themselves Hebrew names but the Gentiles would call them other names. When his Aunt Rachel got divorced, she had a secular name given to her by the Gentiles, Belle-Assez which means very pretty. This is the origin of the Yiddish name Bayla. The Rosh also speaks of Gentiles giving Jews names during his time. Zanvil was a nickname for Shmuel, Rechlin for Rachel, Mirush for Miryam, Bunam for Simcha, Seligman for Pinchas, Wolf for Shimon, and Zalman for Shlomo.23
Historically, there was a distinction between the Shem Kodesh, the Hebrew name, and the Shem Chol, the secular name. The Shem Kodesh served for d'varim she'b'kedusha, holy matters, such as being called to the Torah, prayers, and the writing of Jewish legal documents. The Shem Chol served for secular matters, as a nickname used by the person's family and friends. The Shem Kodesh was given in Shul at the time of the Brit; the Shem Chol was given at the baby's home while he lay in his cradle. We see this from Maharam Mintz who wrote over 500 years ago about a man called Meshulam Zalman. "He is called Meshulam to the Sefer Torah and this is the Shem Kodesh that his father gave him at the Brit, and the secular nickname for Meshulam is Zalman, the name given to him by his father and mother in his cradle on the Shabbat that she went with him to Shul, and this (ceremony) is called 'Hol Kreisch'."24
The student of the Trumat Ha'Deshen (1389-1459) wrote a sefer called Leket Yosher. In the introduction, he introduces himself as follows: "My name is Yuzlan and I am called to the Sefer Torah as Yosef B'Reb Moshe." Concerning his Rebbi he wrote: The Gaon is called to the Sefer Torah as Yisrael B'Reb Petachya, z"l, but the world calls him Rabbi Isserlin ."25 Rabbi Moshe ben Yisrael, zt"l, is known as the Ramo. Ramo is an acronym for Rav Moshe Isserlis. Isserlis means "son of Yisrael."
In Germany, a clear separation was kept between the Shem Kodesh and the Shem Chol. In Eastern Europe, however, over the course of time, this distinction was blurred, most probably as a result of the abandonment of the Cholkreisch ritual. There were some rabbis, such as the student of the Shevet Sofer , (Rabbi Yitzchak Meir Tzoval MiFakash) who attempted to stop the mixing of the two names. He allowed use only of the Shem Kodesh when calling someone to the Torah. In time it became common for people in Eastern Europe to use both the secular name and the Hebrew name for all matters. This created halachic problems in writing Gittin (divorce papers). In the past only the Shem Kodesh had been used. Now, it was uncertain exactly what should be written.26
During the period of Emancipation, there were Jews who wanted to be accepted by the Gentile population and took non-Jewish first names. In Prussia, the government prohibited Jews to change their Jewish names to Christian names. In 1787, an Austrian edict limited the Jews to biblical first names. Nevertheless, the assimilationists managed to take Christian names. In 1836, Leopold Zunz published a book entitled Namen der Juden in which he attempted to prove that throughout the ages Jews had names given to them by the Gentiles. In this way, he hoped to persuade the government to allow Jews to choose any name they wanted.
In the Austrian-Hungarian Empire, the government allowed the Jews to adopt Christian names. The overwhelming response on the part of the Jews to take such names surprised even the Gentiles. When Maharam Shick27 turned over the official list of names of his congregants to the local government official, the official berated him over the fact that so many Jews had non-Jewish names. The official was astounded that they were not proud enough of their Jewish heritage. It was then that Maharam Schick wrote his responsum decrying taking non-Jewish names.28 He explained that following the law making it obligatory for Jews to have surnames, his father took the last name, SHiK, which was the abbreviation for Shem Yisrael Kadosh – a Jew's name is holy. This was done to remind his progeny of the importance of retaining a Jewish name. It is interesting to note that when a controversy arose over a rabbi who preached in the vernacular rather than in a "Jewish language", Maharam Schick came to his defense and justified the rabbi's practice.29
Non-Jewish names were to be found among Jews even during the time of the Tanaim. There is a Braita30 that teaches:
Divorce papers brought from abroad (to Israel) signed by witneses, even if the names are like the names of idolators, [the divorce papers] are valid. [This is] because most of the Jews [who live] outside of Israel have names that resemble the names of idolators.
Rabbi Moshe Feinstein writes31 that it is impossible to determine when non-Jewish names came to be considered as Jewish names since all these names were originally taken from the Gentiles. In the beginning, the rabbis complained about these names, but they took hold. So, too, the rabbis could complain about the English names that Jews have taken in this country and similar names in other countries, but how much should they complain and how successful would they be? Rav Moshe is telling us that these non-Jewish names have been around for a long time in one form or another.
A number of countries in Central and Western Europe required Jews to register their children's birth in the official registry. Only German names were recognized, and so almost every Jew had a German first name, just as it is common today for Jews in Anglo-Saxon countries to have English names.32
Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach (1844-1918) wrote that since many Jews had left the ghetto and lived among the Gentiles, they were uncomfortable about calling themselves overtly Jewish names, fearing ridicule by the Gentiles, and so chose German names. Rabbi Carlebach recommended that they adopt a translation of their Hebrew names, i.e. Abraham for Avraham and Moses for Moshe. Social pressure, however, eventually led more and more Jews to take German names.33
A name determines one's destiny34
Had the generations so merited, G-d would have given each and every person a name, and from that name we would have known that person's nature and deeds.35
One should ever examine names, to give his son a name worthy of him to becoxme a righteous person, for sometimes the name may be a contributory factor for for evil or for good.36
The Talmud37 brings the story of Rabbi Meir who stopped at an inn with his two travelling companions. Rabbi Meir didn't want to leave his money with the innkeeper named Kidor, because Rabbi Meir doubted his honesty. He based his suspicions upon the verse, "they are a generation ( Ki Dor ) given to perverseness."38 In the end, Rabbi Meir turned out to be right and Kidor, the innkeeper, stole his (Rabbi Meir's) companions' money. They complained to Rabbi Meir that he should have warned them. Rabbi Meir answered, " I considered this name a suspicion, not a definite presumption." In other words, a name can only arouse suspicion that a person may have an intrinsic dishonest nature. A name cannot, however, determine this definitively, since a person may overcome this character flaw and control the negative influences of his name.
We see that one should be very careful to select a name for a child that will have a positive effect upon his growth and development. A Hebrew name carefully selected does just that. This is what the Ba'al Shem Tov meant when he wrote that a name can manifest one's very essence. While the practice of using non-Hebrew names has been around for a long time, it is clear that Chazal saw major benefits in having and using a Shem Kodesh – a Hebrew name.
Every time a person engages in the performance of mitzvahs, he acquires a good name (Shem Tov) for himself. A person is called by three names – that which he is called by his father and mother, that which he is called by others, and that which he acquires for himself. The best of all is the name he acquires for himself [by the performance of mitzvahs].39
Let us strive for the ideal approach. Let us choose a Shem Kodesh and pursue a Shem Tov. Let us pursue mitzvot and be proud to be Jews. And may our names and our deeds hasten the final redemption.
1.Genesis 2:19
2. In his commentary to Genesis 2:19
3 P'ninei Ha'Chasidut. (Blog note: this idea is also found in the Ohr Hachaim Devarim 29:19. By the way, the "Likutei He'aros" on the Ohr Hachaim there credits a sefer called "Ohr Habahir" for the oft searched for statement that the father is given divine inspiration, Ru'ach Hakodesh, when he chooses a name for his son. But I'll tell you that in my opinion, and in my personal experience, headstrong and/or stupid always trumps Ruach Hakodesh; when a Brass Band is playing, it's hard to hear the Kol Demama Dakah.)
4 Shir HaShirim Rabah, Chapter 4 (Blog note: Also in Vayikra Rabba in Parshas Emor #32)
5 Responsa Maharam Shick, Y.D., Chap. 169.
6 Based on Leviticus 20:24 (Blog note: The Maharam Shik's opinion on this matter is by no means normative. He tends toward the extremes when dealing with issues that touch upon haskala.)
7 Hilchot Akum 11:1 (Blog note: The Rambam he brings is a weak raya, especially since the Rambam doesn't mention the issue of Jewish names.)8 T.B. Yoma, 38b
9 Mishle, 10:7
10 Lamentations, 2:20
11 Do'eg Ha'Adomi, who lived during the time of Sha'ul HaMelech, was originally a great scholar and head of the Sanhedrin. He engaged in lashon ha'ra (slander) against David HaMelech and helped poison the relationship between Sha'ul and David. Do'eg died at age 34. The Talmud says that he had no share in olam haba (the world to come).
12 Nachal Tet, 14.
13 Tzafnat Pa'ne'ach, No. 275.
14 E.H., No. 21.
15 Iggerot Moshe, Vol. IV, No. 66.
16 Shorshei Minhag Ashkenaz, by R. Binyamin Shlomo Hamburger, B'nei Brak, 5755.
17 Encyclopedia Judaica, Vol. 12, page 810.
18 Iggerot Moshe, E.H., Vol. 3, No. 35. (Blog note: As the author mentions, Reb Moshe says the same svara as the Maharal, although he says it noncommittally-- he says it is a reasonable pshat, but he is not comfortable stating it as a matter of halachic fact. Also, while the author quotes Reb Moshe as saying "While it may not be desirable to give your child a secular name, there is no issur (prohibition) involved", in fact Reb Moshe calls it "megunah," shameful--unless it is given to honor or memorialize a family member who had a non-Jewish name; see below, Additional notes, #3.)19 G'vurot HaShem, Chap. 43.
20 Rashi's noted student and author of Machzor Vitry.
21 Shorshei Minhag Ashkenaz, loc. cit.
22 Tshuvot Rabbeinu Tam, No. 25.
23 Shorshei Minhag Ashkenaz.
24 Ibid.
25Ibid.
26Ibid.
27 Hungary, 1807 - 1879.
28 Responsa Maharam Shick, Y.D., No. 169. (Blog note: Shick is an old gentile German name. For example, Conrad Shick was a German protestant missionary who lived in Jerusalem in the eighteen hundreds. And see http://www.houseofnames.com/xq/asp.fc/qx/schick-family-crest.htm where it is clear that Shick has a long history as a German gentile name. I don't think the Maharam's father thought he was inventing a name. I think the Maharam's father chose the well known name of Shick because he could invest it with a dual meaning. Among gentiles, it is a common German name. Within his own family, he let it be known that it means "Shem Yisrael Kodesh." It would be like naming a child Mickey and saying it stands for Mi K'amcha Yisrael.) 29 Ibid. O.C. No. 70.
30 T.B. Gittin 11b.
31 Iggerot Moshe, E.H. Vol. 3, No. 35.
32 Shorshei Minhag Ashkenaz.
33 Ibid.
34 T. B. Brachot 7b.
35 Midrash Tanchuma.
36 Ibid., Parshat Ha'azinu. (Blog note: R' Eliezer Papo in the Pele Yoeitz, Letter Shin, D'H Shem Tov, says that if one is interested in the benefit the child can derive from the influence of a name, one should give his child a name that commemorates some chesed Hashem did for the father, rather than taking a family name. For example, Rav Gifter's daughter's name is Rebbetzin Shlomis Eisenberg, and Reb Moshe's son's name is Rav Sholom Reuven Feinstein, because they were born either during or immediately after WWII. See also below in Additional Blog Notes #4.)37 T.B. Yoma 83b.
38 Deuteronomy 32:20.
39 Midrash Tanchuma, Parshat VaYak'hel.
Additional Blog notes:
1. See the Comment section, below, for an interesting discussion of the names of Mordechai and Esther, which, are certainly not Hebrew, and which some consider reminiscent of the names of certain pagan deities.
2. An Important Preliminary Analysis:
Three Aspects of the Concept of "Names."
What, exactly, does the word "name" mean? What constitutes a name?
It can be argued, however, that the comparison to Gittin is incorrect: what we call a 'name' for Gittin may be totally irrelevant to what is called a name for the purposes of our discussion. The determination of the name in a Get is based exclusively on clarity in identification. The din that Shemo uShemah are de'oraysa by a get doesn't really require names at all. If the people had unique and prominent physical characterisitics, we could write a get with no names at all, but instead just write "the man with three eyes and the woman with the horn in middle of her forehead." On the other hand, the idea discussed in this article, the preference of using Jewish names, involves two entirely different issues: Ethnic pride/Religious affiliation (in other words, that a Jew should use a Jewish name because it shows pride and affiliation with Judaism, while a non-Jewish name shows indifference, as Rashi says in Shemos when Moshe Rabbeinu did not correct the daughters of Yisro when they referred to him as an "Ish Mitzri,", or the Maharam Shik's "chukos ha'amim,") and the spiritual advantage of the inner essence of whatever the Hebrew name signifies, whether it is a trait or a reference to some bygone tzadik, (as we find by Adam, whose naming of the species in Hebrew was a portentous event that reflected and reinforced their essential reality and spirituality.)
Again: Defining 'name' in the context of Gittin, therefore, is a matter of eliminating, as far as possible, potential ambiguity in the mind of the reader, and clarity in publicizing exactly who was divorced. Defining 'name' in the context of the article, being a two-pronged analysis, might not be that simple. If it is a matter of ethnic pride/religious affiliation/chukos ha'amim, then perhaps we should define 'name' as that which one chooses to use in daily life. If it is a question of the connection with and influence of the spiritual elements of the name, the deeper meaning and history of the name, perhaps all that matters is the fact he uses it to be called up for aliyos.
And since when are Surnames names at all? Perhaps "name" in our culture only refers to the individual's given name, not the family name, which, in a sense, is no different than identifying the person by calling him Hirshel Varzhaner to indicate that he's from Varzhan.
Once you have decided which of the above aspects of a name you are examining, you have to determine what the person's real name is- because not everything people call you is your name, and what they called you at the bris might not be your name either.
As the Medrash Rabba Koheles 7:3 on Tov sheim mi'shemen tov says, every man has three names: the name his mother and father called him (she'karu lo aviv ve'imo), the name his friends called him (she'karu lo chaveirav), and the name he is given in the heavenly record of his deeds and behavior (she'karui lo be'sefer toldos briyaso).
3. Reb Moshe says that initially, parents who gave their children secular names were strongly decried by the Gedolei Hador, but over time certain names gained acceptance. But, and this is an important 'but', he also says that once a name is in a family, "kevod hamishpacha" is more important than the general preference for a Hebrew name, and therefore one should take the name of the family member even if it is not Jewish.
4. The question of whether to name a child for an event or for a relative is literally antedeluvian: it has been discussed since before Noach. The Medrash in Breishis Rabbah Parshas Noach 37:11 on the naming of Peleg, "Ki beyamav niflegah ha'aretz" says the following:
5. Reb Moshe, in his Igros YD 3:97 has a fascinating teshuva. The case was that the mother did not tell the father that she gave birth to his child. I assume they were separated for six or seven months, or divorced, or never married. When the boy was born, she arranged the bris without telling her ex about it, and the child was named without the father's input. This sounds weird, but you can see it happening in bitter divorces. where one party leaves town. And, if you know about the battles even happily married couples sometimes have about names, you can be sure that this mother was determined to eliminate her ex's input on this important decision. Obviously, the Millah is valid. But what about the name? Does the father lose the right to name his child?
6. Naming a child is a very important and auspicious event. There is an amazing Drisha in Yoreh Dei'ah at the end of 360 that states the following: When one has a choice of which of certain events involving mitzvos to attend, there are rules of priority. For example, if there is a choice of attending a levaya, or a wedding, or a bris, the Tur there discusses the order of relative importance. The Drisha states that in those cases where a bris has top priority, attending the naming of a girl has equal status. Although he does not cite his source, this comes from the Eliah Rabba. It is clear that this shittah holds that the importance of attending a bris is not the milah, it is the fact that the child is named at that time. Therefore, he holds, attending the naming of a girl has exactly the same significance and importance.
See Even Ha'ezer 129 regarding what names are used in Gittin, and see the Chazon Ish EH 93:15 on these halachos, where he extensively discusses the relative standing of the various names a person has, such as the name given at the bris, when one is ill, by one's friends, and various disparate circumstances. For example, in business, when I'm dealing with a non-Jew, I tell them my name is Gene. I chose Gene because non-Hebrew speakers mangle my name, and Eugene means "born of good parents." It is completely unrelated to the name I usually use, but if you ask my business contacts, they'll tell you it is my name. So, is my name Gene? If you say it isn't, then you have to think about whether Reb Moshe's expression that a non-Jewish name is "megunah," shameful, applies to a person named Yaakov Koppel at his bris who chooses to tell people to call him Kyle or Gene or Steven. On the other hand, one can argue that the name a person is known by is more "his name" than the name that's only used to call him up for an aliyah or to write on his kesuva and gravestone. (As it happens, the Chazon Ish holds that one's name is what people call him, unless they know that he has a 'real' name and the 'real' name is used at formal occassions, such as signing documents or getting an aliyah. Reb Moshe said the same thing-- at a wedding, he was writing the kesuva, and the chasan told him that his kallah's name was Sarah, but she has another name that nobody knows and nobody calls her by because she hates it and is embarrassed by it, and Reb Moshe said "Nishtakei'ah" and didn't write it in the Kesuva.) . After all, Tanach is full of names that were given later in life, and they are called names anyway. I know two young men named Josh whose Aliyah names are not Yehoshua, but completely different. (And, among Chasidim, it so happens that almost every person who is called "Zalmen Leib" in his daily interactions is called to the Torah by "Yekusiel Yehuda.") When they get aliyos, people who are paying attention are surprised, because they always knew them as Josh, and here they're getting aliyos by names like Shmuel or Baruch. According to the Chazon Ish, it is not at all simple whether their 'real' names are Josh or the Aliya names.
It can be argued, however, that the comparison to Gittin is incorrect: what we call a 'name' for Gittin may be totally irrelevant to what is called a name for the purposes of our discussion. The determination of the name in a Get is based exclusively on clarity in identification. The din that Shemo uShemah are de'oraysa by a get doesn't really require names at all. If the people had unique and prominent physical characterisitics, we could write a get with no names at all, but instead just write "the man with three eyes and the woman with the horn in middle of her forehead." On the other hand, the idea discussed in this article, the preference of using Jewish names, involves two entirely different issues: Ethnic pride/Religious affiliation (in other words, that a Jew should use a Jewish name because it shows pride and affiliation with Judaism, while a non-Jewish name shows indifference, as Rashi says in Shemos when Moshe Rabbeinu did not correct the daughters of Yisro when they referred to him as an "Ish Mitzri,", or the Maharam Shik's "chukos ha'amim,") and the spiritual advantage of the inner essence of whatever the Hebrew name signifies, whether it is a trait or a reference to some bygone tzadik, (as we find by Adam, whose naming of the species in Hebrew was a portentous event that reflected and reinforced their essential reality and spirituality.)
Again: Defining 'name' in the context of Gittin, therefore, is a matter of eliminating, as far as possible, potential ambiguity in the mind of the reader, and clarity in publicizing exactly who was divorced. Defining 'name' in the context of the article, being a two-pronged analysis, might not be that simple. If it is a matter of ethnic pride/religious affiliation/chukos ha'amim, then perhaps we should define 'name' as that which one chooses to use in daily life. If it is a question of the connection with and influence of the spiritual elements of the name, the deeper meaning and history of the name, perhaps all that matters is the fact he uses it to be called up for aliyos.
And since when are Surnames names at all? Perhaps "name" in our culture only refers to the individual's given name, not the family name, which, in a sense, is no different than identifying the person by calling him Hirshel Varzhaner to indicate that he's from Varzhan.
So: the following three dinim and purposes in a 'name" are conceptually and analytically discrete; and unless you are careful to focus on which attribute is relevant to your discussion, you will end up ploydering.
a. Identification
b. Ethnic/Religious affiliation
c. Spiritual influence of the name
Once you have decided which of the above aspects of a name you are examining, you have to determine what the person's real name is- because not everything people call you is your name, and what they called you at the bris might not be your name either.
As the Medrash Rabba Koheles 7:3 on Tov sheim mi'shemen tov says, every man has three names: the name his mother and father called him (she'karu lo aviv ve'imo), the name his friends called him (she'karu lo chaveirav), and the name he is given in the heavenly record of his deeds and behavior (she'karui lo be'sefer toldos briyaso).
3. Reb Moshe says that initially, parents who gave their children secular names were strongly decried by the Gedolei Hador, but over time certain names gained acceptance. But, and this is an important 'but', he also says that once a name is in a family, "kevod hamishpacha" is more important than the general preference for a Hebrew name, and therefore one should take the name of the family member even if it is not Jewish.
4. The question of whether to name a child for an event or for a relative is literally antedeluvian: it has been discussed since before Noach. The Medrash in Breishis Rabbah Parshas Noach 37:11 on the naming of Peleg, "Ki beyamav niflegah ha'aretz" says the following:
Reb Yosi: The ancients, who saw ten generations of their living ancestors, named their children "l'sheim ha'me'orah," in the name of an event. We, whose ancestors haven't survived to see us, name our children for them. (Eitz Yosef-- so they should not be forgotten.)
Reb Shimon ben Gamliel: The ancients, who had Ruach Hokodesh, divine inspiration, named their children "l'sheim ha'me'orah," in the name of an event. We, that do not have Ruach Hakodesh, name our children after our ancestors.
So, you see two interesting things in the Medrash; that it is a personal choice whether to name a child after a relative or to commemorate an event, which is slightly different than the Pele Yo'eitz that I brought in the main note section #36. Also, a careful reading shows that Reb Yosi's "ahl sheim ha'me'orah" does not mean the same thing as Reb Shimon ben Gamliel's "ahl sheim ha'me'orah." RSbG means "a future event," which is why he says you need ruach hakodesh to do this; while Reb Yosi does not necessarily mean that, and can mean that they gave the name for an event in the past or the present, or changed the name contemporaneous with some event in the person's lifetime. If he meant the same as RSbG, he would have agreed that naming ahl sheim ha'me'orah would have required ru'ach hakodesh. Since he doesn't say that, he must have not meant the same thing with "ahl sheim ha'me'orah." So: Reb Shimon ben Gamliel is is certainly different than the Pele Yo'eitz, since RSbG is not discussing at all the idea of naming for a past event. Maybe the Pele Yoeitz works with Reb Yosi, maybe not, because the Medrash says that the minhag is to name after relatives, not events.)
5. Reb Moshe, in his Igros YD 3:97 has a fascinating teshuva. The case was that the mother did not tell the father that she gave birth to his child. I assume they were separated for six or seven months, or divorced, or never married. When the boy was born, she arranged the bris without telling her ex about it, and the child was named without the father's input. This sounds weird, but you can see it happening in bitter divorces. where one party leaves town. And, if you know about the battles even happily married couples sometimes have about names, you can be sure that this mother was determined to eliminate her ex's input on this important decision. Obviously, the Millah is valid. But what about the name? Does the father lose the right to name his child?
Reb Moshe says that there are no hard and fast rules about who may name a child. In the case of Moshe Rabbeinu, the name that is used was given him by the daughter of Pharaoh, while his father and mother called him other names, as explained in the Yalkut Shemos Remez 166. Certainly a mother's right to name her child is at least as valid as the father's. The preference of the name given by Yaakov to Binyamin over that given by Rachel, Ben Oni, was pursuant to reasons specific to that particular event. So this child's name will be that which the mother gave him, but his father can call him by a different name. The teshuva clearly indicates that he is called to the Torah by the name given to him by his mother (here, his maternal grandfather as directed by the mother,) at the bris.
6. Naming a child is a very important and auspicious event. There is an amazing Drisha in Yoreh Dei'ah at the end of 360 that states the following: When one has a choice of which of certain events involving mitzvos to attend, there are rules of priority. For example, if there is a choice of attending a levaya, or a wedding, or a bris, the Tur there discusses the order of relative importance. The Drisha states that in those cases where a bris has top priority, attending the naming of a girl has equal status. Although he does not cite his source, this comes from the Eliah Rabba. It is clear that this shittah holds that the importance of attending a bris is not the milah, it is the fact that the child is named at that time. Therefore, he holds, attending the naming of a girl has exactly the same significance and importance.
Steven Oppenheimer is a practicing endodontist in Miami Beach, Florida. This article was dedicated to the memory of his beloved father, Chayim Gershon ben Meir, A"H.
Barzilai is a quasi-functional biped metabolising in Chicago. His notes and comments are the product of a hobby that is, currently, pretty much the only thing keeping him from demonstrating his disagreement with Camus.
Thank you Dr. Oppenheimer for your kind permission to republish the article.
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Lehavdil elef havdalos:
Purely out of bemusement, allow me to direct you to an article called "Holle's Cry: unearthing a birth goddess in a German Jewish naming ceremony.", by Jill Hammer, published in 2005 in a Journal which is dedicated to exploration of feminine spirituality in Judaism named "Nashim". The article's perspective is at odds with Rabbinic Judaism and disdainful towards Orthodox philosophy and traditions, and it helps to have a couple of beers in you before you start to read it. But it does cite many interesting minhagim associated with the Holkreisch ceremony. The fact is that individual feminists occasionally appeared in the Orthodox milieu long before its modern incarnation as a movement, and it is possible that some of the ideas in the article reflect the attitudes and intentions of some ur-feminists. We all have the odd relative or two we prefer to not talk about. Antiquity is not evidence of legitimacy. An old fool is still no more than a fool. You might have to sign up for a free membership to view the entire article.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Parshas Emor Vayikra 21:24 A Non-Kohen that Shechts a Korban
When a Yisrael Shechts a Korban
21:24. V’el kol Bnei Yisroel. At the end of the Parsha that describes the mumim, the physical disfigurements, that disqualify a kohen from doing the sacrificial service in the Temple, the passuk says that Moshe told these dinim to Aharon and his sons and to all the Bnei Yisroel. The kashe is, what does this have to do with the Bnei Yisroel? This does not seem to have any relevance to non-kohanim, and, like the vast majority of Korban law, it should be addressed only to the Kohanim.
Rashi answers this by saying that this is a command to Beis Din to know and enforce these halachos for the Kohanim.
The Ibn Ezra here in 21:24 (as understood by Reb Meir Simcha here) says something much more interesting. As we know, the vast majority of the avodah, the sacrificial service, may be done only by a Kohen. However, the Shechita of Korbanos, even Kodshei Kodoshim, may be done by any Jewish person, male or female, tahor or tamei. Inasmuch as whoever can shecht chulin for consumption can shecht kodashim, one assumes that Shechita does not carry with it any particular restrictions. The Ibn Ezra is mechadesh that a Yisrael who shechts a korban cannot be a ba’al mum. (Can you imagine what Erev Pesach looked like in the Beis Hamikdash? I assume that the pesachim were shechted by the Yisraelim that brought them, or that all the shochtim in Israel were called up for duty. According to the Ibn Ezra, they would all have to strip and be examined by Beis Din to establish that they are not ba'alei mum! Unless perhaps the Beis Din trusted people to reveal and ask about any possible mum problem, since there is a chezkas kashrus and, I suppose, a rove that they are not ba'alei mum.)
Reb Meir Simcha asks from an open Mishna in the beginning of the third perek of Zvachim that says “kol hapsulim sheshachtu shchitasam ksheira,” and this includes ba’alei mum.
The sefer Kanfei Yona, by a Yona Voller, suggests that the Ibn Ezra means lechatchila. (He brings the Gemora there that asks that ‘sheshachtu” is mashma bedi’eved, but a passul can shecht lechatchila, and the Gemara answers that a tomei shouldn’t shecht lechatchila because he might be mitamei the korban, which is mashma that all the other psulim can shecht lechatchila, and he is madche that tomei is befeirush in the Mishneh, but ba’al mum is not, so the Gemara can’t use ba’al mum to be meyasheiv the loshon hamishneh.)
This Ibn Ezra reminds me of several things.
First, R’ Gifter in Parshas Shemini (Vayikra 10:9) says that the issur of shasui yayin (that one who has drunk wine cannot do avodah) applies equally to a Yisrael that shechts; this is similar to the idea of the Ibn Ezra here. So Erev Pesach, not only do you have to strip, you also have to breath into a breathalyzer.
Also, this issue relates to the machlokes (Rashi in Yevamos) about whether a Yisrael can shecht a korban tzibur on Shabbos.
Also, this relates to the machlokes Rabbeinu Efraim and Tosfos about whether a sakin has to be a kli shareis-- it seems to me that if the sakin does not have to be a kli shares, the shochet would have no particular requirements. Yes, of course it's easy to disagree with this.
It is universally accepted that the Yisrael, or the Kohen, who shechts, can be mefagel during shechita. If so, it obviously has aspects of avoda, so it’s logical that a Mum would be a problem.
But I still need to understand why mum and shasui are problems when tumah is not.
21:24. V’el kol Bnei Yisroel. At the end of the Parsha that describes the mumim, the physical disfigurements, that disqualify a kohen from doing the sacrificial service in the Temple, the passuk says that Moshe told these dinim to Aharon and his sons and to all the Bnei Yisroel. The kashe is, what does this have to do with the Bnei Yisroel? This does not seem to have any relevance to non-kohanim, and, like the vast majority of Korban law, it should be addressed only to the Kohanim.
Rashi answers this by saying that this is a command to Beis Din to know and enforce these halachos for the Kohanim.
The Ibn Ezra here in 21:24 (as understood by Reb Meir Simcha here) says something much more interesting. As we know, the vast majority of the avodah, the sacrificial service, may be done only by a Kohen. However, the Shechita of Korbanos, even Kodshei Kodoshim, may be done by any Jewish person, male or female, tahor or tamei. Inasmuch as whoever can shecht chulin for consumption can shecht kodashim, one assumes that Shechita does not carry with it any particular restrictions. The Ibn Ezra is mechadesh that a Yisrael who shechts a korban cannot be a ba’al mum. (Can you imagine what Erev Pesach looked like in the Beis Hamikdash? I assume that the pesachim were shechted by the Yisraelim that brought them, or that all the shochtim in Israel were called up for duty. According to the Ibn Ezra, they would all have to strip and be examined by Beis Din to establish that they are not ba'alei mum! Unless perhaps the Beis Din trusted people to reveal and ask about any possible mum problem, since there is a chezkas kashrus and, I suppose, a rove that they are not ba'alei mum.)
Reb Meir Simcha asks from an open Mishna in the beginning of the third perek of Zvachim that says “kol hapsulim sheshachtu shchitasam ksheira,” and this includes ba’alei mum.
The sefer Kanfei Yona, by a Yona Voller, suggests that the Ibn Ezra means lechatchila. (He brings the Gemora there that asks that ‘sheshachtu” is mashma bedi’eved, but a passul can shecht lechatchila, and the Gemara answers that a tomei shouldn’t shecht lechatchila because he might be mitamei the korban, which is mashma that all the other psulim can shecht lechatchila, and he is madche that tomei is befeirush in the Mishneh, but ba’al mum is not, so the Gemara can’t use ba’al mum to be meyasheiv the loshon hamishneh.)
This Ibn Ezra reminds me of several things.
First, R’ Gifter in Parshas Shemini (Vayikra 10:9) says that the issur of shasui yayin (that one who has drunk wine cannot do avodah) applies equally to a Yisrael that shechts; this is similar to the idea of the Ibn Ezra here. So Erev Pesach, not only do you have to strip, you also have to breath into a breathalyzer.
Also, this issue relates to the machlokes (Rashi in Yevamos) about whether a Yisrael can shecht a korban tzibur on Shabbos.
Also, this relates to the machlokes Rabbeinu Efraim and Tosfos about whether a sakin has to be a kli shareis-- it seems to me that if the sakin does not have to be a kli shares, the shochet would have no particular requirements. Yes, of course it's easy to disagree with this.
It is universally accepted that the Yisrael, or the Kohen, who shechts, can be mefagel during shechita. If so, it obviously has aspects of avoda, so it’s logical that a Mum would be a problem.
But I still need to understand why mum and shasui are problems when tumah is not.
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