The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

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by Rav David Silverberg

Why did Lot decide to move to Sedom? Chazal sharply criticize this decision, describing his settlement in Sedom as moving away from God (see Rashi, 13:11). The Torah itself issues a somewhat subtle condemnation of Lot's choice of residence by reminding us in this context, "And the people of Sedom were very evil and sinful to God" (13:13). But what was Avraham's nephew thinking? Had he really deteriorated so drastically to the point where he fell prey to the sinful temptation of the depraved society?

A hint to understanding Lot's decision may emerge from the Torah's illustration of the Jordan River Valley as Lot gazed thereupon while considering settling there: "like the Garden of God, like the land of Egypt…" "Garden of God" clearly refers to Gan Eden. What about the region of Sedom rendered it comparable to Gan Eden and Egypt? The conventional interpretation views this comparison as focused on agricultural prosperity: Sedom, Egypt and Gan Eden all benefited from constant water sources, in contrast to the hills of Eretz Yisrael, which depend on rainwater. (See Bereishit 2:10, Devarim 11:10-11). However, the focus on God - 'the garden of God" - may give rise to a different interpretation.

Gan Eden is characterized not only by constant, effortless availability of food and other comforts, but by the harmonious coexistence of the physical and spiritual. Man lived together with God until he failed to maintain the strict standards that such an intense man-God relationship demands. Banishment from the garden meant not only back-breaking labor to till the land, but also God's distancing Himself from man.

When Lot observed the material comforts and luxuries of Sedom, he may have very well considered the possibility of turning it into a Gan Eden. True, Sedom resembled the land of Egypt, the moral emptiness of which he had just experienced with the abduction of his aunt, Sarah. On the other hand, perhaps Sedom retained some redeeming quality that afforded it the potential of becoming a Gan Eden, a place where physical indulgence and spirituality live hand-in-hand. Obviously, Lot was wrong. Only through Avraham's merit did he escape the destruction of Sedom (see 19:29). Apparently, he, too, deserved the same fate as the iniquitous city.

It is often difficult to distinguish between "the garden of God" and "the land of Egypt." Lines between good and evil become obscured and our eyes desensitized to the parity between the two. Particularly in a culture that worships the god of tolerance and openness, there remains little room for healthy taboos and necessary discrimination between right and wrong, sacred and profane, and righteous and corrupt. Lot may have allowed Sedom's redeeming qualities to blind him from the city's defining characteristic of corruption. The lesson to learn is that when making any decision throughout life, we must ensure to carefully discern between the "garden of God" and the "land of Egypt," and not to naively ignore the corruption that unfortunately abounds in our society.

The final section of Parashat Lekh-Lekha introduces us to the mitzva of "mila" - circumcision. As we know, a newborn boy must have a circumcision on the eighth day of his life. The Gemara writes that this responsibility rests upon the father (to either perform the ritual himself or see to it that someone else does), but not the mother. The source cited for this halakha comes from next week's parasha, Parashat Vayera:

"Avraham circumcised his son, Yitzchak, at eight-days old, like God commanded him." The Gemara understands the masculine form, "him" as limiting the responsibility to the father.

Many scholars throughout the ages have questioned the need for a derivation of this halakha from a verse. After all, a well-known principle exempts women from time-bound "mitzvot asei" (positive commandments) in the absence of an indication otherwise. Since circumcision may be conducted only from the eighth day on and only during the daytime hours, why would one have considered including mothers in this obligation?

Among the many answers suggested over the years, a particularly sharp resolution was penned by the son of the Minchat Chinukh. Chazal claim that the obligation of circumcision applies not only to Bnei Yisrael, but also to the offspring of Ketura, whom Avraham married after Sarah's death. According to Rashi, this means that Ketura's sons were circumcised, while the Rambam extends the obligation to all descendants of Ketura, to this very day. It turns out, then, that according to the Rambam "Keturite" parents bear the responsibility of circumcising their sons. Now the exemption of women from time-bound mitzvot does not apply to gentiles; only Jewish women are free from these obligations. Therefore, mothers descending from Ketura would bear an equal burden of responsibility in this regard to that of their husbands. It would thus stand to reason that this mitzva is different from all others: if "Keturite" mothers are included in this obligation, presumably so are Jewish mothers. Chazal must therefore derive from a verse women's exemption from this mitzva.

However, here's some food for thought regarding this analysis: this approach assumes that the exemption from time-bound obligations does not apply to gentile women. But does such a thing exist - a time-bound, positive commandment obligatory upon gentiles? If no such precedent exists, and the circumcision of Ketura's offspring is the only example, then perhaps gentile women really are exempt from these obligations…

(Based on Rav Binyamin Tabory, "Hamitzva B'Parasha,' Shabbat B'Shabbato, Parashat Lekh-Lekha 5760.)

Upon their return from Egypt, Avraham and his nephew, Lot, encounter a family crisis. Their shepherds suddenly quarrel with each other, a situation that prompts Avraham to suggest that he and Lot part ways ("bilateral separation," to use contemporary, Middle-Eastern jargon). A subtle shift in terminology, however, catches the eye of careful readers. The Torah tells of a "riv" - a quarrel - between the two groups of shepherds (13:7). Avraham then tells Lot (in the next verse), "Let there not be a 'meriva' [fight] between me and you; separate, please, from me." Are "riv" and "meriva" synonymous? If so, then why did the Torah change expressions in the same story? And if they denote different forms of argument, how did this altercation between the shepherds suddenly change?

An interesting explanation cited in the name of the "Shelah" understands "meriva" as a stronger form of "riv," a fiercer and more bitter confrontation. The two groups of shepherds clashed only mildly; they had a minor disagreement. Avraham tells Lot that he fears that this misunderstanding could quickly mature into a full-blown "meriva," an all-out fight. He therefore insists that a resolution be found immediately, before the argument progresses any further.

In the world of medicine, "early detection" is of critical importance; the quicker a physician can diagnose a serious condition, Heaven forbid, the greater the chances of full recovery. Avraham Avinu recognized a similar characteristic of interpersonal relationships. Friction that goes untreated leads to the accumulation of feelings of resentment, which can often destroy mutual trust and good-will. One must therefore ensure to "treat" conflicts from the outset, rather than waiting for them to transform from a "riv" to a "meriva."

Towards the end of Parashat Lekh-Lekha, God changes Avraham's name from "Avram" to "Avraham" (adding the letter "hei"). The Gemara in Berakhot (13a) cites Bar Kapra's ruling, "Whoever calls Avraham 'Avram' violates a positive commandment, as it says, 'your name shall be Avraham.'" Rabbi Eliezer adds that such a reference to Avraham constitutes as well a violation of a negative prohibition, "Your name shall no longer be called Avram."

Ilight of this passage, an interesting question came before Rav Yitzchak Weiss concerning foreign language transliterations of the name Avraham: may one transliterate Avraham's name into a language without an "h" sound? Obviously, without the "h" Avraham's name becomes once again "Avram." Is this permitted?

Rav Weiss answers by embarking on a thorough analysis of the halakhic status of this statement in the Gemara. The Tzelach (authored by the "Noda B'Yehuda") on that Gemara notes that no Rishonim cite this prohibition in their codes of law, not the Rif, Rambam or Rosh. Nor does it appear anywhere in the Shulchan Arukh, though the Magen Avraham cites this prohibition as authoritative (O.C. 156). The Tzelach therefore argues that this ruling is not halakhically binding, as in fact is strongly suggested by the Tosefta Berakhot 1:14-5. The Tosefta cites Avraham's name-change as an example of a non-absolute replacement; "Avraham" became his primary name, while Avram retained its status as a secondary name. The Torah Temima similarly views this prohibition as non-binding. Rav Weiss also points out that the Mishna Berura (156) suspiciously omits this prohibition when citing the comments of the Magen Avraham in the context of that chapter in the Shulchan Arukh. (Recall that the Magen Avraham there codified this halakha.) He thus suspects that the Mishna Berura concurred with the position of the Tzelach.

Rav Weiss notes, however, that most other authorities do seem to accept this prohibition. Nevertheless, he arrives at a lenient ruling in our case in light of the nature of this prohibition (assuming that it exists). He notes that the "Melo Haro'im" there in Berakhot explains that calling Avraham by his former name constitutes a demonstration of disrespect. The added letter "hei" to the patriarch's name was meant to underscore the unique stature he had earned as the "father of a multitude of nations." A reference to him as "Avram" suggests a neglect of Avraham's nobility, thus an affront to his honor. Therefore, when the name "Avram" is used in a respectable way, no prohibition applies. (Such an approach emerges directly from the aforementioned Tosefta.)

Therefore, concludes Rav Weiss, when the name "Avram" results merely from the transition to a foreign language, its usage clearly does not suggest a disrespectful attitude towards our patriarch. Therefore, given the view that discards the prohibition entirely, and that even should there exist such a halakha it may very well not apply in our case, Rav Weiss rules that one need not object to such usage. Nevertheless, he writes that optimally one should certainly pronounce the name "Avraham" in the original Hebrew.

In Parashat Lekh-Lekha we learn about the mitzva of circumcision. As we know, when conducting a "brit mila" we designate a chair for Eliyahu Hanavi. What's this all about?

The source for this practice appears in Pirkei D'Rabbi Eliezer 29. During the time of Achav, king of the Northern Empire, his constituency abandoned the practice of circumcision. As a result, Eliyahu decreed a devastating drought that threatened to destroy the kingdom. When the queen sought to kill Eliyahu, the prophet fled to Mount Sinai where he "pleaded his case" to the Almighty. God then scolded Eliyahu for his zealousness, and ordered his presence at every single Jewish circumcision for all time, so that he witness the nation's meticulous observance of this special mitzva.

Some background of this time period can perhaps enhance our understanding of this Midrash. Achav introduced pagan worship and culture to his kingdom. He married Izevel, the princess of Tzidon, thus forming a political, military and cultural alliance with Tzidon. This association necessarily entailed the adoption of paganism. Achav effectively rejected the fundamental precept of Bnei Yisrael's ethnic isolation; he longed for the day when his kingdom would be indistinguishable from its neighbors. This policy is accurately represented by the failure to perform circumcisions. This mitzva represents Bnei Yisrael's ethnic integrity and refusal to racially mingle with other nations. Avraham was chosen to father a nation that would represent God to the world, which necessarily entails some association with other nations. Nevertheless, the nation itself must remain distinct from all others in order to achieve this goal, a separation symbolized by the mitzva of "brit mila."

Circumcision rituals thus celebrate Bnei Yisrael's ongoing commitment to their singular identity and refusal to assimilate. Day after day, Eliyahu witnesses the endurance of Jewish nationhood, which long outlasted that of any other Biblical people. Our commitment to "brit mila" means our determination to remain a distinct people, rather than becoming a nation like all others.

This week we have been exploring several issues pertaining to the mitzva of "brit mila," circumcision, whose origins are found in Parashat Lekh-Lekha. Today we will look at a practical halakhic issue relevant to attendance at "britot," though the reader should not reach a final "pesak halakha" (practical, halakhic conclusion) based on this brief discussion.

Many people have the practice of avoiding explicit invitations to a "brit." They make a point to informing friends of the event without actually inviting them. The source for this custom appears in the Pitchei Teshuva in Yoreh Deiah 265. The Rema there writes (based on Tosafot in Pesachim 114a) that one who does not participate in the celebration of a "brit" is considered "excommunicated from Heaven." Based on this passage, several authorities denounced the practice of public servicemen going around the community to invite everyone to a "brit" (perhaps the Medieval form of the modern "synagogue phone squad"). They contend that anyone who receives the invitation and fails to attend the celebration will be included in this excommunication.

However, the Pitchei Teshuva cites the dissenting view of the "Sharvit Hazahav" who justifies this custom. He convincingly argues that the excommunication applies only to those who are present at the feast and specifically abstain, or if only nine men are present and the individual refuses to join to complete the "minyan" (optimally, a "minyan" should be present at a "brit"). No obligation exists whatsoever to refuse an invitation if a "minyan" is available.

Some authorities have invoked yet another argument to allow refusing an explicit invitation. Rav Yaakov Emden maintains that an obligation to attend the celebration exists only when an individual receives the invitation twice. Therefore, new parents arranging a "brit" may, according to this view, make telephone calls and explicitly invite friends and family to the "brit," without having to worry about their possible excommunication from Heaven.

We should also note that the aforementioned Tosafot in Pesachim, which serves as the source for the Rema's ruling, includes in this halakha weddings of Torah scholars and kohanim. Therefore, those who refrain from explicit invitations to circumcisions would apparently apply the same stringency to certain types of weddings.

Today we conclude our series of divrei Torah related to "brit mila." The Shulchan Arukh (Y.D. 265:17) codifies the custom of conducting a festive meal on the day when a circumcision is performed. At first glance, this custom would require the newborn's parents to conduct the celebration prior to sunset that day. After all, the practice as recorded by the Shulchan Arukh requires a special meal "on the day of the circumcision," and in Torah law the day begins and ends at nighttime. Thus, one would expect that the parents may not delay the celebration until after sunset.

Some, however, have suggested otherwise. The Zohar bases the requirement of a festive meal on the day of a circumcision on the status of this practice as a "korban" (sacrifice) of sorts. (See also "Shibalei Haleket, Y.D. 265.) The father arranging the circumcision of his son is considered as bringing an offering upon the altar. Therefore, just as one offering a sacrifice partof the sacrificial meat as required by the Torah, the father must conduct a feast after offering his "sacrifice" through the performance of the mitzva of "brit mila." The Tosefet Berakha (Parashat Tazria) and others suggest that according to this approach, the laws of this feast should follow those of sacrifices. A well known principle dictates that in the Bet Hamikdash, the night follows the day. While in all other areas of halakha we view the day as beginning at nighttime, in the Temple a halakhic day begins in the morning. Therefore, regarding the celebration of a "brit," as well, the night should follow the day. Accordingly, one may conduct the festive meal in the nighttime hours after the day on which the circumcision occurred.

It should be noted, however, that other explanations exist for the custom of conducting a festive celebration after a circumcision. Most notably, as the Vilna Gaon points out, Pirkei D'Rabbi Eliezer comments that the feast conducted by Avraham Avinu "on the day Yitzchak was weaned" (Bereishit 21:8) actually took place on the eighth day, when he circumcised Yitzchak. (Clearly, however, the verses seem to explicitly indicate otherwise.) Some have noted that this derivation would seem to require a daytime celebration, as suggested by the expression, "on the day…" (see Megila 20a).

Additionally, even if we accept the Zohar's parallel between circumcision and sacrifices, we are not compelled to apply the specific halakhot of korbanot to the realm of "brit mila." After all, circumcision is not really a sacrifice!! (If it were, it would have to be performed in the Bet Hamikdash, and we would not conduct "britot" nowadays, when we are all considered ritually impure!) We would thus not necessarily adopt the argument that night follows the day with regard to the laws of "mila."

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