The
Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit
Midrash
Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion
PARASHAT SHELACH
At the outset of Parashat Shelach Lekha, God tells Moshe to
send spies to the
Another possibility is that, within the problematic situation that was created, God's endorsement of the plan has positive content. Seforno suggests the following: God told Moshe to send leaders of the people as spies. The purpose of this was to guarantee that the spies would be able to appreciate the land for what it was. Not everyone would be able to appreciate the land. Indeed, despite their dreadful failure, the spies successfully conveyed a positive impression of the land, its natural resources and riches. Their lack of trust in God caused their courage to fail them, and they delivered an unsolicited evaluation of whether the land could be conquered at all. However, the fact that the spies were truthful in their account of the richness of the land made ultimate repentance a real possibility for the people. As soon as they became aware of their sin in losing faith in God, the people repented, and expressed a wish to enter. Had simpler people been chosen, they might have been unable to appreciate the natural beauty of the land, and the people as a whole would never have changed course.
We may suggest a variation of the Seforno's idea. Were simpler people chosen, they may not have given a positive report of the land, not because of their inability to appreciate it, but because of the common inability to see reality independently of one's evaluation of it. Often, one who has a strong opinion concerning a given issue is unable to present it, or even see it, in a fair way. People are affected by their evaluations, and are often unable to appreciate reality in a neutral manner. It is a sign of greatness to be able to view, a situation positively, and yet present a negative evaluation of it. While the spies sinned terribly, they were still able to detach the question of the richness of the land from the issue of whether it was conquerable. In the long run, this meant that they left the people the possibility of repenting.
Were God to have left the sending of the spies to the people, they might have entrusted this responsibility to the hands of populists who would not care to give an honest description of the land. The spies would have let their personal opinions take hold completely of their report. The people would not have been able to extricate themselves from their state of spiritual cowardice, because they would have seen the evil report as a full evaluation of the situation. Since the report was indeed honest, they were able to regain their courage and their faith.
This shows us how important it is to be honest towards oneself. Even when one sins, due to a weak heart and lack of faith, an honest appreciation of the situation makes repentance an easier task. When, however, one lets one's emotions overpower one's understanding of the situation, repentance necessitates a complete reevaluation of one's experiences.
Shlomo Dov Rosen
*****
After the traumatic affair of the
sending of the spies, the people's loss of faith, and the resultant punishment,
the Torah relates to us various mitzvot that apply
only in the
However one understands the idea
of a sacrifice, it is clear that these additions are of a different nature than
the animal itself. They seem to intimate a certain closeness. If the animal can
be understood almost as a substitute for the life of the worshiper, the wine
and meal offerings seem associated with the idea of being a respectful guest in
a home, or paying tribute to a king. Perhaps this is the reason that the wine
and meal offerings would be offered the people upon entering the
The concluding verses of this section (Bamidbar 15:13-16) clarify, at great length, that this procedure should be followed by a convert also. This may be understood in light of the above. One may have thought mistakenly that the closeness celebrated in the bringing of wine and a meal offering together with one's sacrifice, would not be applicable in the case of a proselyte. The Torah teaches us that such an understanding would be mistaken. With great emphasis, we are told of the absolute equality of the convert.
Three terms are used in the section regarding the convert: chuka achat, torah achat, and mishpat echad, roughly translatable as: one statute, one rule, and one law. Outside of this week's parasha, each of these three terms appears in one other place in the Torah only. Both Chuka achat and mishpat achat appear in relation to the pesach offering; the former in Bamidbar 9:14, and the latter in Shemot 12:49. We are told that a convert keeps the mitzvot of the Pesach offering: "There shall be one statute for you and the convert", "there shall be one law for the ezrakh and for the convert". We can appreciate the use of these terms in the context of the convert by noticing how they are used generally. Chuka is used specifically concerning the laws of the pesach offering (in that very same verse), while torah is used continuously in relation to the sacrificial laws. (These two verses seem to pick up on different aspects of the pesach offering.) This understanding is ratified by noticing that in this week's parasha, the phrase torah achat appears also in relation to the chatat sacrifice, brought as atonement for one who sins inadvertently. We are told that a proselyte brings such a sacrifice also.
It would seem from the above that concerning two other sacrificial laws, pesach and chatat, the Torah found it necessary to clarify that the convert has the same law as any other Jew. The Torah emphasizes in two separate places that even concerning the pesach, a mitzva that has national and historical meaning, the convert is equivalent to the born Jew. Furthermore, the Torah points out that he offers a chatat like any other Jew, lest one think that a newcomer would have no atonement if he falls.
Mishpat echad appears in Vayikra 24:22, in relation to laws of damages and injury. This is easily understood, as the word mishpat usually means laws in the general legal sense (e.g. Shemot 21:1). It would therefore seem that this source teaches us that the convert enjoys legal equality. In the eyes of the law, there is no difference whether you are a new citizen or a veteran.
If we now return to our parasha, we find it hard to understand why all these terms, so understandable in their other contexts, are brought together here. The term mishpat seems completely out of place, and, while the phrase chuka achat may be taken differently, to refer to law generally, it is hard to understand why this needs to be said here. It would seem that God chose to use each term in one other parasha, and then to purposely bring them all together here. Why?
We discussed above the nature of the mitzva to join to every sacrifice both a meal offering and wine. We noticed that it intimates a sense of spiritual closeness, beyond the basic ritual aspect of the sacrifice itself. The fact that the proselyte is included in this mitzva is unlike the mere fact of equality in the eyes of the law, or being able to atone for mistakes; it is more than being told that the historically-based commandments of Pesach are applicable to him. All those cases may be understood as issues of equality in the sense of fairness, or national identification with the Jewish People. However, here we are told that even in ritual acts that express extreme closeness to God, there is no difference between the proselyte and any other Jew. This is the heart of the issue: not merely legal and moral equality, but spiritual identification. Bringing the whole subject into focus in this context teaches much about the nature of the equality taught in those other contexts. They are not merely fairness; they are expressions of the spiritual stature of the proselyte.
Shlomo Dov Rosen
*****
Parashat Shelach Lekha ends with the mitzva of tying tzitzit on the four corners of garments that one wears. Originally, at least one of the strings of the tzitzit was coloured with a dye, which seems to have been a form of light blue. The Medrash Tanchuma, in the name of Rabbi Meir, interprets this as a type of catalyst in associative thinking. The colour of the dye was similar to the sea, the sea is similar to the sky, and the sky is similar to the heavenly throne. In other words, the purpose of the tzitzit as being a reminder of God's mitzvot (Bamidbar 15:39), is achieved by associative thinking. We are told that we shall see them and remember all of God's commandments. Rabbi Meir explains that this is done through one's imaginative connection of the colour to one's conception of God's spiritual presence. Although, of course, we have never actually seen the heavenly throne, nor is it a physical entity that could be visible, we imagine it in a certain way. This reminds us of God's commandments.
A similar idea, of meditative exercises in
stages, appears in Gemara Berakhot
(5a). We are told that one should fight against one's evil inclination. If one
is unsuccessful, one should study Torah; if one still does not win, one should
read the Shema. If you are still unable to control
it, you should remember the day of death. The question is asked: If there is a
foolproof remedy to the evil inclination, reminding it of the day of death, why
should one work in stages?
One convincing answer is that thinking about
one's death would not necessarily lead to victory over weakness. A person could
also choose to be lax precisely because one day he shall die and will no longer
be able to enjoy himself. However, if one advances through the stages
suggested, one studies Torah and then reads the Shema,
the idea of death is approached from a religiously healthy context.
We see here another example of a thinking
exercise, working through stages. Here the stages are necessary. If one thinks
without the context, the meditation may backfire. This, however, differs from
the associative thinking of tzitzit. Here a thought
is given context; there an idea is arrived at through a process of meditative
association.
However, with all the difference between the
cases, the necessity of stages in the case of tzitzit
would seem to stem from the same idea. Why not look at the blue strings of the tzitzit and try to imagine the heavenly throne, directly? Because it would not work. Trying to imagine the ultimate
spiritual presence of God by looking at a dyed string on one's clothing is an
exercise that may prove slightly strenuous, if at all meaningful. However, one
can easily appreciate the similarity of the string to natural phenomena of the
same colour. The sea is closer to our physical world than the sky. When one
proceeds to consider the similarity of the sky to the sea, one makes the move
from the directly temporal world to that of spirituality, or something that has
that connotation for us. One cannot move directly to the extreme of
spirituality from the mundane. However, one can meditate by association, and in
that way make connections between one's own physical existence and spiritual
ideas that are able to propel us forward.
Shlomo Dov
Rosen
*****
Parashat Shelach Lekha recounts the story of the spies, how they toured the land, and returned with a negative evaluation, which caused a general upheaval among the people. Their wish not to enter the land was punished by God in the form of a decree that they indeed would not be allowed to enter. They died in the wilderness, their children entering in their place. The continuation of the parasha deals with mitzvot that would apply only after entry into the land, presumably as a kind of consolation. The parasha concludes with the mitzva of tzitzit (Bamidbar 15:37-41). Why is the mitzva of tzitzit located here?
We are commanded to tie strings on the four corners of our garments, so that, when we see them, we shall remember God's commandments, and do them (15:39). The verse then tells us that we shall not "tour" after our hearts and our eyes, which lead us astray. The Hebrew word used is "tur" ("lo taturu"), which can actually be rendered quite well into English by the translation, "to tour." It is interesting that this verb, to tour, appears in this context. This is the precise word used to describe the task that the spies were supposed to fulfill. Besides two verses that describe the movement of the Holy Ark before the camp (Bamidbar 10:33 and Devarim 1:33), this word appears in the whole Torah only in the mitzva of tzitzit and in the account of the spies. Why is this so? What is the connection between the mitzva of tzitzit and the spies' story, and why is this rare term used in both?
Rashi, in a rewording of an idea from the Midrash Tanchuma, says that the heart and the eyes are the two "spies of the body." "The eye sees, and the heart desires, and the body does the sin" (Rashi, 15:39). The mitzva of tzitzit seems to be related directly to the sin of the spies. However, there is a difference. The spies were sent; their sin was in the negative evaluation that they gave, and in their lack of faith. With regard to tzitzit, we are told not to "spy" at all.
How, then, are we to understand this mitzva as a response to the spies? The Jewish People wished to send spies and God agreed. It was not originally God's preferred plan. Even it had been God's original wish, we showed that we are incapable of playing the role of tourist among the attractions of the world. Part of God's response was to tell us that we should no longer look around and try things out. People lose faith and are lured after their eyes.
Another possibility understanding of the connection may be derived from a consideration of differences in the wording. We are told not to "tour" after our heart and after our eyes. Rashi says that the eye sees and the heart desires. However, the verse actually mentions the heart first. The spies were sent to see and report. Their sin lay in their negative evaluation of the possibility of conquering. What this means in our context is that God does not command us to close our eyes. While sending the spies was the wish of the people, God could sanction their mission as long as it was merely a question of seeing. If a pure heart looks around, it should not find the world overly alluring. On the contrary, the world is full of the glory of God. However, if one comes with desires and egoistic wishes, lack of faith and failing courage, spying out the world may prove fatal.
God tells us "not to tour after our heart and after our eyes:" we should not look out into the world in order to satisfy our desires. If the heart precedes the eyes, it may be dangerous to look about. That was the sin of the spies. But if we approach the outside world with a spiritual outlook, if we remember God's commandments, then, on the contrary, it is important to look around.
The purpose of mitzvot
is to bring spirituality into the temporal and mundane world. The mitzva of tzitzit is designed to
remind us of the spiritual as we go through our daily lives. It may be a
response to the failure of the spies. Great people, the spies were sent by Moshe to "tour," to receive impressions from the outer world. Yet they fell, for
they did not have a continual reminder of holiness and the will of God.
Shlomo Dov
Rosen
*****
The reason for the mitzva of tzitzit is explicitly stated in the Torah: "In order that you remember, and perform all my commandments, and you shall be holy for your God" (Bamidbar 15:40). The previous verse explains how this is accomplished: "And you shall see it and remember all the mitzvot of the Lord and do them" (15:39). The verse indicates that the purpose of tying tzitzit onto the corners of one's clothing is in order to see them.
Two different types of talit are commonly worn today: a large prayer shawl, and a smaller version with an opening in the center that fits over the head. The second is commonly worn throughout the day below one's outer clothing. Should this second set of tzitzit also be visible?
This issue has been debated amongst halachic authorities from various angles. From the Torah itself, it would seem that one should at least let the tzitzit strings dangle out, over one's clothing. The earliest source that understood the verse this way is the Midrash Tanchuma on this week's parasha; it was finally codified in the Shulchan Arukh (Orach Chaim 8:11), and stressed by the Mishna Berura (8:25-26).
However, even before one considers whether this
is advisable in secular society, there is a dispute whether this is really the
ideal practice. Certain kabbalistic
authorities, including the Ari z"l,
taught that the small talit
should be worn below one's outer clothing and should be completely covered.
This is not an argument about tzitzit generally, as
the large prayer shawl is obviously exposed. The kabbalistic opinion shapes the outlook of Rav Ovadia Yosef shlit"a on this issue. Although Sefardi halachic authorities generally accept
rulings of Rav Yosef Karo, author of the Shulchan Arukh, this case is an
exception. The Shulchan Arukh
only said that it is preferable to let the tzitzit be
seen, while kabbalistic
authorities claim that doing so is very mistaken. In such a case, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef explains, Sefardi custom is to follow the kabbalistic teaching (Yechaveh Da'at
vol. 2, 1). He explains that no claim can be made against Ashkenazi custom, which is, on the whole, to the
contrary, since they side with the strictly halakhic authorities in disputes with kabbalistic sources (vol. 2, page 9, in note).
There are additional considerations to factor into this decision. Some would claim that it is disrespectful to stick the strings into one's pants, while others, to the contrary, would argue that it is incorrect to wear them out when this would seem peculiar to non-Jews who are not familiar with the meaning of tzitzit. The Mishna Berura argues that, because of these considerations, one who feels that his tzitzit should be hidden because of his movement among Gentiles, should not stick them into his pants, but rather into the corners of the tzitzit clothing. However, both he and the Arukh Ha-shulchan (Orach Chaim 8:17) argue that, while halachically this is allowed, one should be proud of God's commandments and not feel a wish to hide the tzitzit. The Arukh Ha-shulchan says that only one who moves among Gentile ministers who will make fun of him should hide the tzitzit.
An additional issue is that of whether it
should be considered a haughty practice to keep this mitzva
in a publicly open manner, when not obligated to do so. This obviously depends
very much upon what is considered usual and accepted behavior.
However, in the present case, it is crucial that several halakhic authorities understand that wearing
the tzitzit out is the correct way to perform the mitzva. It is not merely an outward showing of a form of
service, but rather a form of service that inherently involves showing itself
outwardly.
Shlomo Dov Rosen
*****
The Gemara (Menachot 43a) teaches that we are obligated to tie tzitzit strings only on clothes that are worn during the day. This can be understood in two ways. The Rambam understood that one is obligated to wear tzitzit on all clothing that one wears in the daytime, regardless of the type of clothing. All clothing worn at night does not need tzitzit. The Rosh argued that at night also one may fulfill the mitzva. The Gemara simply means that one is not obligated to wear tzitzit on nightclothes. It all depends on the function of the clothing. Clothes particular to the day need tzitzit, even at night. Clothes worn at night do not need tzitzit, even during the day.
This dispute is recorded in the Shulchan Arukh (Orach Chaim 18:1) and left unresolved. In cases of doubt, one does not recite blessings, and for this reason one who puts on tzitzit at night does not recite a berakha.
The Gemara derives this halakha from the qualification, "and you shall see it, and remember all of the Lord's mitzvot" (Bamidbar 15:39). Intrinsic to the mitzva of tzitzit is its being seen. Therefore, it does not apply at night. In this sense, it differs from other mitzvot that apply only by day or only by night. Tzitzit is not presented as a mitzva of the day, but rather, we learn that sight is intrinsic to it, and for that reason it cannot be performed at night (or on nightclothes). While a blind person is indeed able to fulfill the mitzva (Orach Chaim 17:1), at times of natural darkness one is not obligated to wear tzitzit. The distinction between mitzvot of the day and the mitzva of daylight (i.e. tzitzit) is not merely theoretical.
Halakhically, twilight is an uncertain period of time. We do not know at what point day ends and night begins. Therefore, generally speaking, we do not perform mitzvot particular to the day, or particular to the night, during this period of time. The Magen Avraham (O.C. 18:4) argues that during twilight one is, however, obligated to wear tzitzit, even according to the Rambam. Concerning the mitzva of tzitzit, twilight is not a time of doubt. He explains that the reason for not being able to wear tzitzit at night is not because tzitzit are connected to the day, as opposed to the night, but rather that one must see the tzitzit. Twilight is defined as the period of time between the disappearance of the sun beyond the horizon and the darkness of night. During this time, there is still light. It is technically uncertain whether it should be considered night, since the sun has disappeared, or day, since it is not yet dark. However, concerning the mitzva of tzitzit, there was no direct stipulation that the mitzva can be fulfilled only during the day. As long as it is light, and one can see the strings, the mitzva still applies. Therefore, even according to the Rambam, who argues that the mitzva of tzitzit appies only during the day, it applies during twilight also.
The source of this idea is an early halakhic authority called the Ravia, quoted in the Mordechai (Megilla 801). He argued that in the morning one may recite a blessing upon tzitzit from the early rays of dawn. Halachic morning comes in stages, the latest of which is sunrise. The Ravia argued that since there is no direct specification that tzitzit be worn in the day, but rather that they be worn when they can be seen, the early rays of the day suffice for this purpose. However, mitzvot that are explicitly prescribed for the day must wait until sunrise.
While this ruling is hotly disputed, and is generally not followed today, it highlights the functional aspect of this mitzva. Wearing tzitzit is not merely a mitzva of the day; it is a mitzva that fulfills a function. It is supposed to be a reminder of God's commandments, and a catalyst in helping us perform them. It is an interesting mitzva in that it has a very practical purpose, and raises the question of whether all mitzvot can be understood in this way.
Shlomo Dov Rosen
*****
Parashat
Shelach Lekha concludes
with a verse reminding us that God took us out of
The mitzva
of recalling the exodus is completely distinct from the mitzva
of reciting the shema; therefore, the possibility is
open for it to have a different time frame. This was the innovative idea of the
Sha'agat Arye (1695-1785).
He argued that while the shema is recited only in the
early morning, because it is then that people rise, the mitzva
of recalling the exodus applies throughout the day. Was one to miss prayers in
the morning, one would still be obligated to recite something about how God
took us out of Egypt, later in the day (Sha'agat
Arye, chap.10). Similarly, one must be sure to recall the exodus after dark,
and not merely in early evening, when evening prayers are often said (Sha'agat Arye, chap. 8). While originally the shema of the night could still be recited even after the
beginning of early dawn, until sunrise (our Rabbis changed this), the mitzva to recall the exodus applies only up to the early
light of dawn (Sha'agat Arye, chap. 9). The reason for
the night shema's time frame being so flexible is
that it is associated with the period of time when one rests. The mitzva to recall the exodus does not have a subjective time
frame. Rather, it is defined by natural day and night. During the whole of the
night one has a mitzva to recall the redemption from
It would seem, then, that the mitzva to recall the exodus from
The Sha'agat Arye provides an innovative answer. He argues that the mitzva to recall the exodus is indeed dependent upon a time frame. While it always applies, it is controlled by time. The obligation to recall the exodus at night no longer applies by day; after dawn, one has missed the opportunity to fulfil this mitzva. Similarly, the mitzva of the day no longer applies after nightfall. While the mitzva is continuous, it is yet controlled by a time frame (Sha'agat Arye, chap. 12).
Other halakhic authorities disagree with this idea, but it is important to realize what it means for our understanding of women's exemption from time-bound mitzvot. According to the Sha'agat Arye, the idea is not that women are not obligated in mitzvot that come on occasion. On the contrary, all the laws of Shabbat, and many of the halakhot of the festivals, apply equally to women. Rather, women are exempt from mitzvot that have a time frame. Being obligated in the mitzva to recall the exodus, both in the day and in the night, means that one is held down by time. One must be sure to do a specific ritual by a specific time. The issue is not that the mitzva relates to an occasion in time, but that the mitzva contains within it the condition of time. It is from this temporal rigidity that women are exempt.
Shlomo Dov Rosen
|
|
|
|
||
|
To see this year's S.A.L.T. selections: |
|
www.vbm-torah.org/salt.htm |
||
This shiur is provided courtesy of the Virtual Beit Midrash, the premier source of online courses on Torah and Judaism - 14 different courses on all levels, for all backgrounds.
Make Jewish learning part of
your week on a regular basis - enroll in the
Virtual
Beit Midrash
(c) Yeshivat Har
Etzion2002 All rights reserved to Yeshivat Har Etzion
Yeshivat Har Etzion
Alon Shvut, Israel, 90433
office@etzion.org.il