S.A.L.T. – PARASHAT MIKETZ

By Rav David Silverberg

MOTZAEI

            Parashat Miketz tells of Pharaoh’s unusual dreams, which Yosef interpreted as predicting seven years of agricultural surplus which would be followed by seven years of severe drought.  Yosef urged the Egyptian monarch to appoint an official who would oversee the storage of grain throughout the seven years of surplus, in order to prepare for the subsequent famine.

In describing the storage that should be conducted during the coming seven years, Yosef used an unusual term – “ve-chimeish” (41:34) – and the commentators offer different theories to explain this word.  A number of commentators, including the Rashbam, Chizkuni, the Radak and Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, explain “ve-chimeish” as a reference to a twenty-percent tax imposed on all farmers.  (According to this view, the word stems from the Hebrew word for five, chamesh, and thus refers to one-fifth.)  The government ordered the mandatory storage of one-fifth of all produced grain during the seven years of surplus, in preparation for the drought years.  The Rashbam claims that whereas farmers were generally required to pay only ten percent of their yield to the government, Yosef advised Pharaoh to double the tax during the coming seven years in order to adequately prepare for the looming famine.  Indeed, the Rashbam adds, we read later, in Parashat Vayigash (47:24), that Yosef instituted a twenty-percent tax on all agricultural lands in Egypt.

Shadal, however, challenges this explanation.  The twenty-percent tax of which we read in Parashat Vayigash was imposed during the drought years, when the farmers languished from underproduction and were forced to sell their fields to the government.  The landowners thus essentially became Pharaoh’s serfs, working his lands and receiving a (large) percentage as payment.  This arrangement, Shadal contends, has nothing at all to do with Yosef’s plan for mass storage during the years of plenty.  To the contrary, the fact that Yosef introduced the twenty-percent levy upon the produce during the drought years would seem to indicate that this was an exceptional provision which differed from the standard taxation system.  It indeed seems difficult to explain how the Rashbam attempted to draw proof to his explanation of “ve-chimeish” from the arrangement that Yosef established later, during the drought.

Shadal therefore prefers the interpretation offered by Targum Onkelos, which was also embraced by Rashi, explaining “ve-chimeish” to mean “he shall arm.”  Rashi cites as a basis of this interpretation a verse from Sefer Shemot (13:18), which describes Benei Yisrael leaving Egypt in a state of “chamushim,” which Rashi explains to mean “armed.”  Shadal writes that the term is used here, in Parashat Miketz, to mean that Egypt was “armed,” or equipped, with grain through the process of mass storage.  Weapons were a vital necessity in the ancient world, and thus the verb ch.m.sh., which, narrowly defined, means “arm,” is also used in reference to equipping oneself with any vital commodity, including food.  Thus, the term is used here in Parashat Miketz to mean the “arming” of Egypt during the seven years of surplus with large warehouses of grain, which the country would come to rely on once the drought years set in.

SUNDAY

            We read in Parashat Miketz of Yosef’s harsh treatment of his brothers when they came to Egypt to purchase grain.  Yosef, who was now the Egyptian vizier and unrecognizable to his brothers, baselessly accused them of spying and demanded that they bring their younger brother, Binyamin, to Egypt.  At first, he ordered that one of them should return to Canaan to bring Binyamin while the others remained incarcerated in an Egyptian cell (42:16).  But later, after keeping them in prison for three days, Yosef allowed nine of the ten brothers to return to Canaan and bring Binyamin, while one of them, Shimon, remained with him in Egypt (42:19).

            Different approaches have been taken to explain Yosef’s plan, why he ordered his brothers to bring Binyamin to Egypt.  But regardless of how we understand Yosef’s general objective, we must also address the specific question of why he changed his decision concerning the number of brothers he permitted to return to Canaan.  As mentioned, he first allowed only one brother to go to Canaan, and then, after keeping the brothers in prison for three days, decided to allow nine brothers to return.  How do we explain this sudden change?

            Shadal cites an interesting theory from another Italian exegete, Yitzchak Shemuel Reggio.  Yosef left it for the brothers to decide who would return to Canaan to bring Binyamin, and kept them in prison until they reached this decision.  However, none of the brothers wanted to go.  They knew the devastation Yaakov would experience upon seeing only one of the ten children returning from Egypt, and they feared it would kill him (just as Yehuda would later claim that the anguish of losing Binyamin would kill Yaakov – 44:31).  And even if not, they assumed, Yaakov would certainly not allow Binyamin to go to Egypt after seeing that only one of the ten other children returned from there.  They therefore chose the option of inaction, waiting in the prison cell and hoping that in the meantime, the hostile vizier would ease his demands.

            Yosef, who (for reasons that are not entirely clear) wanted his younger brother to join him in Egypt, was left with no choice but to offer a better alternative.  He therefore allowed them to return, leaving only one brother behind as “collateral” to ensure that they would come back to Egypt with Binyamin.  The brothers felt that Yaakov would more easily tolerate this situation than if only one son returned home, and thus accepted Yosef’s revised demand.

MONDAY

            There is a prevalent custom to eat fried donuts on Chanukah, as the oil used for frying commemorates the oil of the Chanukah miracle.

            The accepted practice is to recite the berakha of mezonot over fried donuts, but there is some discussion among the halakhic authorities as to which berakha one recites if he eats a large quantity of donuts.  Donuts are generally made from dough kneaded with sugar, margarine and other sweetening agents, and thus belong to the halakhic category of pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin.  This category consists of different types of baked foods – such as cake – which share certain properties of bread, but are generally used as snacks.  (The Shulchan Arukh, in O.C. 168:6, outlines three different types of foods that are defined as pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin.)  These include foods made from dough that has been mixed with sweetening agents.  Since these foods serve a different function than bread, Halakha does not treat them like bread.  Meaning, one does not recite ha-motzi before eating these foods or birkat ha-mazon afterward; rather, these foods require the berakha of mezonot before eating, and the berakha acharona of al ha-michya after eating.  The exception to this rule, as the Shulchan Arukh writes (O.C. 168:6), is when a person eats an amount of these foods “over which others commonly establish a meal.”  If a person eats a quantity of pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin that lends it the status of a “meal,” rather than a “snack,” then he must, indeed, recite ha-motzi and birkat ha-mazon.  There is considerable discussion among the halakhic authorities as to what precise quantity of pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin transforms the food into a “meal.”  According to many opinions, the consumption of three or four ke-beitzim – or approximately 6-8 fluid ounces – of these foods qualifies as a “meal” that requires ha-motzi and birkat ha-mazon.

            Seemingly, then, a person who eats several donuts in one sitting would be required to first wash his hands and recite ha-motzi, and then, after eating, recite birkat ha-mazon.

            In truth, however, this conclusion is far from clear.  Later (168:13), the Shulchan Arukh addresses the status of dough that has been fried, rather than baked, and cites a difference of opinion in this regard.  Several Rishonim, including the Rash Mi-Shantz and the Rambam, maintained that fried grain products can never assume the halakhic status of “bread” with respect to berakhot.  In their view, the formal status of “bread” can be conferred only upon a baked product, and one would therefore not recite ha-motzi or birkat ha-mazon over a fried food in any situation.  Rabbenu Tam, however, disagreed, and held that if the fried food was prepared in a thick batter, similar to the process of baking bread, then it requires ha-motzi and birkat ha-mazon just like bread.  The Shulchan Arukh writes that a “God-fearing person” should avoid this debate, and ensure to eat these kinds of foods only with bread, so that he must in any event recite ha-motzi and birkat ha-mazon according to all opinions.

            Returning, then, to the case of one who ate several donuts, the berakhot he recites before and after eating would depend on these two opinions.  According to the first view, fried donuts can never obtain the status of bread, and therefore one recites mezonot and al ha-michya regardless of how many donuts eaten.  The second view, by contrast, would likely require one to recite ha-motzi and birkat ha-mazon, since, according to this view, frying is no different than baking.  Thus, just as large quantities of pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin require ha-motzi and birkat ha-mazon, similarly, this would be required of one who eats such quantities of fried pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin, such as donuts.

            Therefore, many halakhic authorities (see Piskei Teshuvot 168:19) advise that one should not eat several fried donuts in one sitting, in order to avoid this question (in addition to the obvious health concerns…).  It is preferable to ensure to eat only one or two donuts at a time, so that according to all views one should recite mezonot and al ha-michya.

            It should be noted that donuts have this status of mezonot – as opposed to the status of bread – even if the dough was not kneaded with significant amounts of sugar or other sweeteners.  Generally, grain products kneaded with mostly water, and only a minority of sweetening ingredients, are considered bread, and not pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin.  Fried donuts, however, are exceptional in this regard.  The Mishna Berura (168:85) approvingly cites the ruling of the Taz that deep frying suffices to lend a food the status of pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin.  Even though the dough was not kneaded with sugar or other sweeteners, the fact that it was deep fried, and not baked, places the food under the category of pat ha-ba’a be-kisnin.  (The Mishna Berura emphasizes that this applies only if the food was deep fried, such that the oil is the dominant taste in the food.)  Therefore, even unsweetened fried donuts would require mezonot and al ha-michya, and not ha-motzi and birkat ha-mazon.

TUESDAY

            The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (21b) famously delineates the three gradations of the mitzva of the Chanukah candle lighting.  The basic obligation requires lighting a single candle in every home each night of Chanukah, whereas the higher level of obligation – mehadrin – requires a candle for each member of the household.  The third and highest level, the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin, requires lighting a number of candles corresponding to the number of days of the holiday that have passed.

            Among the fundamental questions that have been discussed by later scholars is the relationship between this “hierarchy” of the mitzva of Chanukah lights and the general law of hiddur mitzva – enhancing mitzva performance.  Chazal in several places make mention of the obligation to endeavor to enhance the performance of mitzvot by maintaining high aesthetic standards.  Common examples of hiddur mitzva include the building of decorative sukkot and writing nice-looking Torah scrolls.  One might contend that with regard to the Chanukah candle lighting, the Sages enacted specific guidelines for the performance of hiddur mitzva.  Whereas generally Halakha leaves it to each individual to choose how to best aesthetically enhance the mitzva’s performance, when it came to the Chanukah candles Chazal (for reasons which we can only speculate) chose to delineate a precise system of hiddur mitzva.  Essentially, however, the additional candles lit at the standards of mehadrin and mehadrin min ha-mehadrin serve the purpose of hiddur mitzva, not unlike the measures taken to decorate a sukka or beautify one’s tefillin.

            This seems to have been the position of Rabbenu Chananel, who, in his commentary to Masekhet Shabbat, explained the concept of mehadrin and mehadrin min ha-mehadrin by referring us to the Gemara’s discussion in Masekhet Bava Kama (9b).  There the Gemara addresses the parameters of hiddur mitzva, and, specifically, the question of how much one must spend on enhancing a mitzva.   By drawing an association between these two Talmudic passages, Rabbenu Chananel clearly indicates that here in Masekhet Shabbat, the Gemara works within the system of hiddur mitzva.  In his view, the additional candles lit on Chanukah are kindled in fulfillment of the general precept of hiddur mitzva.

            Rav Yaakov Betzalel Zolty, in his Mishnat Yabetz (O.C. 74), suggested that this issue may underlie a famous debate between Tosefot and the Rambam concerning the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin standard of the Chanukah candle lighting.  Tosefot, citing the Ri, claim that the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin standard does not include the mehadrin standard.  Meaning, if one wishes to light at the level of mehadrin min ha-mehadrin, adding a candle each night of Chanukah, then only a single set of candles is lit, rather than a set for each member of the household.  After all, the Ri contended, the purpose of the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin standard is to publicize that day’s number, and if multiple sets of candles are lit, onlookers will be unable to determine the number.  Necessarily, then, the standard of mehadrin min ha-mehadrin does not also include the mehadrin level.  The Rambam, however, disagreed.  In Hilkhot Chanukah (4:1), the Rambam explicitly ruled that fulfilling the standard of mehadrin min ha-mehadrin requires meeting the requirements of the mehadrin standard.  He writes that a family of ten would light twenty candles on the second night of Chanukah, thirty on the third night, and so on.

            Rav Zolty suggested that this debate depends on the question of whether or not this concept of mehadrin relates to the general principle of hiddur mitzva.  The halakha of hiddur mitzva, Rav Zolty asserted, involves the external appearance of the mitzva’s performance.  One glorifies the mitzva by enhancing its appearance, such that people regard it with the respect and honor it deserves.  Therefore, if the standard of mehadrin min ha-mehadrin is intended as a fulfillment of hiddur mitzva, then we must ensure that it can be easily recognizable to onlookers.  Hiddur mitzva is integrally related to outward appearance, and therefore if hiddur mitzva warrants lighting candles in accordance with the day’s number, then this must be made clearly and unmistakably visible.  Tosefot therefore maintained that one can perform mehadrin min ha-mehadrin only in a manner in which onlookers will be able to recognize the number signified by the lighting.

            The Rambam, Rav Zolty explained, likely held that the concepts of mehadrin and mehadrin min ha-mehadrin have nothing at all to do with the rule of hiddur mitzva.  In his view, the obligation of Chanukah candle lighting was enacted from the outset on three different levels, and therefore observing the mehadrin or mehadrin min ha-mehadrin does not serve the general purpose of hiddur mitzva.  These standards are integral to the obligation of Chanukah candles, rather than an expression of the more generic concept of hiddur mitzva.  As such, the crucial factor is the lighting itself, rather than the outward appearance.  One achieves the higher standard simply by lighting additional candles, and not by making a public demonstration of the number of days of Chanukah that have passed.  Therefore, the Rambam ruled that one fulfills mehadrin min ha-mehadrin regardless of whether onlookers are able to determine the day’s number by viewing the Chanukah lights, since this standard does not depend upon the mitzva’s external appearance.

David Silverberg

WEDNESDAY

            Yesterday, we addressed the question concerning the relationship between the three different standards of fulfilling the mitzva of Chanukah candle lighting, as delineated by the Gemara (Shabbat 21b).  The basic obligation, the Gemara writes, is  the kindling of a single light in each household on each night of Chanukah.  The second standard (“mehadrin”) requires lighting a candle for each member of the household (or by each member of the household), and the third and highest standard, which has, of course, been accepted as common practice, is to add a candle each night (“mehadrin min ha-mehadrin”).  As we saw yesterday, one could approach the concepts of mehadrin and mehadrin min ha-mehadrin in two different ways.  First, one may view them as a fulfillment of the general obligation of hiddur mitzva – enhancing, or beautifying, the fulfillment of mitzvot.  From this perspective, the addition of candles on Chanukah serves the same halakhic purpose as beautifying one’s sukka and tefillin.  Of course, the mitzva of Chanukah candles is unique in that the Sages specified a particular method of enhancement, but fundamentally, lighting additional candles is simple an enhancement of the mitzva done for the purpose of hiddur mitzva.

            Alternatively, one may view the additional candles as a higher standard of the mitzva itself.  Meaning, from the outset, the mitzva of Chanukah candles was instituted on three different levels.  According to this outlook, the additional candles do not serve the purpose of hiddur mitzva, but are rather integral to the mitzva itself.  They are lit not to enhance the mitzva, but rather to fulfill the mitzva as it was ideally intended to be fulfilled.  As we saw yesterday, Rav Betzalel Zolty (in his Mishnat Yabetz, O.C. 74) claimed that this question underlies a famous debate between the Rambam and Tosefot as to whether the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin standard incorporates the mehadrin standard, or stands independently.

            Rav Zolty proceeds to note several other issues that likely hinge on this question, including the issue of whether a pauper must sell his belongings to fulfill the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin standard.  The Shuchan Arukh (O.C. 671:1) rules that a poor person who relies on charity for his basic needs must sell his possessions in order to purchase the materials necessary for the Chanukah candle lighting.  The Mishna Berura adds that this applies only to the single nightly candle that is required according to the minimum standard.  A pauper is not required to sell his belongings in order to acquire extra oil and wicks for the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin lighting.  Similarly, in the Bei’ur Halakha, the Mishna Berura writes (citing the Chemed Moshe) that charity officials are required to supply the poor with materials for one candle each night, and not for the additional candles.  By contrast, the Or Samei’ach inferred from the Rambam that a pauper must fulfill even the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin standard.  In Hilkhot Chanukah (4:12), the Rambam writes that a pauper must sell his belongings to purchase “oil and candles,” and the Or Samei’ach understood that the plural form – “candles” – refers to each night’s lighting, rather than the entire holiday of Chanukah.  If so, then the Rambam required the poor to do whatever is necessary to light not only the single nightly candle, but even the additional candles of the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin standard.

            Rav Zolty suggested that this issues hinges on the question concerning the nature of the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin lighting.  If we view this lighting as achieving hiddur mitzva, an enhancement of the mitzva, rather than as part of the mitzva itself, then we would likely not require a pauper to go to such lengths for the sake of this lighting.  This extraordinary requirement to sell one’s possessions is due to the critical importance of publicizing the miracle, the underlying purpose of the Chanukah candle lighting.  It therefore stands to reason that this requirement applies only to the fulfillment of the mitzva of candle lighting itself, and not to the enhancement of this mitzva.  However, if the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin lighting is a higher standard of the mitzva itself, as envisioned by Chazal when enacting this obligation, then we might, indeed, demand that the poor resort to whatever measures are necessary to fulfill even the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin standard.

            Another halakhic question that likely hinges on this issue is which candle should be lit first on the second through eighth nights of Chanukah.  The Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 676:5) rules that the new candle is added each night to the left of the previous night’s candle, and when one begins lighting the candles, the newest candle is lit first.  The Vilna Gaon, however, disputes this ruling, noting that it seems far more reasonable to first light the rightmost candle, through which one fulfills the basic obligation.  The candles to the left are lit only for the purpose of mehadrin min ha-mehadrin, the higher standard of the mitzva, and should therefore be lit only after one fulfills the basic obligation through the lighting of the first candle.  Rav Zolty notes that the Vilna Gaon’s argument is predicated on the assumption that the additional candles are lit as an enhancement to the mitzva, and not as part of the mitzva itself.  The Shulchan Arukh, apparently, viewed the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin as a higher standard of the actual mitzva of Chanukah candle lighting.  As such, it is perfectly valid to first light the newer candles, which are lit for the mehadrin min ha-mehadrin, as these candles, too, are integral to the performance of the actual of mitzva.

David Silverberg

THURSDAY

            The Megilat Antiochus, a text which recounts the events of the Chanukah miracle, famously relates that the Selucids enacted three specific decrees restricting the Jews’ religious observance, forbidding them from observing Shabbat, declaring new months, and performing circumcision.

            If we would search for a common theme underlying these three areas of Torah observance, we would likely point to the concept of kedusha, the idea that something ordinary can be made sacred.  (See Rav Binyamin Yudin’s discussion at http://torahweb.org/torah/2007/moadim/ryud_chanukah.html.)  The declaration of new months was necessary for the maintenance of the Jewish calendar system, upon which the Jewish holidays depend.  Accordingly, we should perhaps combine the first two decrees – concerning Shabbat and the new months – into a single enactment which sought to eliminate the Jewish holy days, both Shabbat and the festivals.  Apparently, the Greeks objected to the Jewish concept of kedushat ha-yom, the notion that a block of time can be deemed special and treated as intrinsically different from other times.  They maintained that all times are the same, and are not subject to any kind of special status.

            A similar outlook may have motivated the ban on circumcision.  The mila, for one thing, signifies the need for perfection, reflecting the underlying assumption that the human being must work to raise himself.  People are not created perfect; our instinctive drives and tendencies must be controlled and harnessed, rather than be allowed to act freely.  Soon after birth, a procedure is performed to indicate that the child needs to be perfected, that his natural state is not good enough.  This procedure is performed specifically on the organ representing the basest human drive, demonstrating that we, unlike other creatures, must work to rise above our natural instincts and tendencies to strive for a higher meaning and purpose on earth.  The Greek oppressors perhaps banned circumcision because they championed the inherent perfection and adequacy of the human being.  They denied the need to sanctify the human body, just as they rejected the notion of sanctifying time.  There is no meaning to sanctity, they felt, since the world and its creatures – all natural elements and forces – are inherently flawless and do not need to be elevated for a higher purpose.

            This ideological struggle may also underlie the emphasis that we find in the Gemara’s brief account of the Chanukah story (Shabbat 21b – citing from Megilat Ta’anit), as well as in the Ma’oz Tzur hymn, on the defilement of the materials in the Temple, particularly the lighting oil (“ve-tim’u kol ha-shemanim”).  The Greeks’ assault on kedusha naturally included the Beit Ha-mikdash, the holiest site, where they sought to undermine the unique status of kedusha that the Jews maintained with regard to everything related to the Temple rituals.

            This might also explain the focus on the theme of kedusha found in Ha-neirot Halalu, the text customarily recited at the time of the Chanukah candle lighting.  In this text, we declare the purpose of the Chanukah candles – to give praise to God for the Chanukah miracle – and designate them as “kodesh,” sacred and off-limits.  Interestingly, in this recitation we make a point of emphasizing that the Chanukah miracle was performed through “kohanekha ha-kedoshim” (“your sacred kohanim”).  We stress our recognition of the status of kedusha which can be accorded to people (kohanim) and even to ordinary natural elements, such as a flame.  Our victory over Greek oppression is expressed and celebrated through the renewal of our commitment to the kedusha idea, the need, challenge and opportunity we have to sanctify ourselves, our lives and our world.  We reaffirm the notion of “ha-neirot halalu kodesh heim,” that there is a concept of “holiness” which demands that we invest effort and make sacrifices to improve ourselves and the world, rather than allow the natural human tendencies to dictate our behavior freely and without restraint.

David Silverberg

FRIDAY

FRIDAY

            The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (23a) establishes that one is required to light Chanukah candles at all entrances of one’s courtyard.  Pedestrians who see an entrance without Chanukah candles may not realize that the homeowner lit candles at the other entrance, and might wrongly suspect him of neglecting the important mitzva of the Chanukah lights.  The Sages therefore required lighting at all entrances, in order to avoid suspicion.  (The Rama, in O.C. 671:8, writes that this halakha does not apply nowadays, since many, or most, people in any event light indoors and pedestrians do not necessarily expect to see the Chanukah candles at the entrance of the courtyards.)

            After establishing this halakha, the Gemara, rather surprisingly, raises the question as to the source of this concept of avoiding suspicion.  “From where,” the Gemara asks, “do you say that we must concern ourselves with suspicion?”  The Gemara responds by noting the mitzva of pei’a, which requires leaving aside a corner of one’s agricultural fields for the poor.  One reason given for this mitzva, the Gemara notes, is the concern for the landowner’s reputation.  Jealous passersby who see a fully-reaped field may resent the owner, who, they assume, keeps all his produce for himself without assisting the poor.  The Torah therefore required making a public charitable donation in the form of pei’a, in order to avoid suspicion.  The Gemara points to this mitzva as a precedent for the concept of “chayshinan li-chshada,” that we must make a point of avoiding suspicion.

            The obvious question arises as to why the Gemara needed to find a source for this halakha, and why it resorted to the precedent of pei’a.  It is already well-established in several contexts that we must avoid even permissible behavior that may arouse suspicion.  The oft-quoted source for this requirement is Moshe’s admonition in Sefer Bamidbar (32:22), “vi-hyitem nekiyim mei-Hashem u-mi-Yisrael” (“you shall be innocent before God and Israel”).  This verse is understood as requiring us to not only act correctly “before God,” but also appear innocent “before Israel” by avoiding suspicious behavior.  Why, then, did the Gemara search for a different source in establishing the requirement to light Chanukah candles at every entrance?

            Apparently, as discussed by Rav Menachem Genack in his Gan Shoshanim (40), the Gemara here deals with a different concept from the familiar halakha of mar’it ayin (avoiding suspicion).  When we speak of mar’it ayin, we refer to a prohibition against acting in a suspicious manner.  Here, however, the Gemara speaks of a different concept, namely, that fulfilling a mitzva requires performing it in a way that does not invite suspicion.  As opposed to the familiar concept of mar’it ayin, which forbids suspicious behavior, this halakha adds a new dimension to mitzva performance.  It establishes that a mitzva is incomplete if it is done in a manner that leaves room for suspicion.  The Gemara therefore pointed to pei’a as the source of this halakha, noting that the Torah did not simply command giving charity, but also required making it clear and evident that we share our material benefits with those in need.

            Rav Genack notes a number of sources which indeed seem to indicate that lighting Chanukah candles at the second entrance constitutes part of the actual mitzva of candle lighting, and does not merely serve the external purpose of avoiding suspicion.  Perhaps most strikingly, the Peri Chadash (675:6) writes that one recites a new berakha before lighting at the second entrance.  This position clearly suggests that lighting the second set of candles does not fulfill the external obligation of avoiding suspicion – an obligation that certainly does not require a berakha – but rather constitutes part of the fulfillment of the candle lighting obligation, thus warranting the recitation of a berakha.

            Another possible proof to this nature of the lighting at the second entrance is the halakha known as birkat ha-ro’eh.  The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (23a) establishes that one who does not light Chanukah candles (for whatever reason) recites the berakhot upon seeing Chanukah candles.  At first glance, one might question the propriety of reciting a berakha over seeing Chanukah candles, given the possibility that they may have been lit solely for the purpose of avoiding suspicion.  How does the viewer know that the candles he sees burning at the entrance of a courtyard were lit for the mitzva, and not to avoid suspicion given that there is an additional entranceway?  Rav Genack explains that evidently, even candles lit at the second entrance have the status of full-fledged Chanukah candles, since, as we saw, they constitute part of the fulfillment of the mitzva.

            An interesting result of this perspective relates to the case of an onein, a person whose immediate relative has passed away but has yet to be buried.  An onein is generally absolved from mitzvot asei (affirmative commands), as he is to focus his attention on the needs of the deceased family member.  Nevertheless, the Maharil Diskin, as cited in Rav Tzvi Pesach Frank’s Mikra’ei Kodesh (Chanukah, 25:2), rules that an onein must light Chanukah candles at the entrance to his courtyard, in order to avoid suspicion by those who are unaware of his status as an onein.  Rav Genack noted that this view presumes that lighting to avoid suspicion falls under the category of mar’it ayin, the prohibition against acting suspiciously.  According to the approach developed above, however, this is not the case at all, and the lighting is required as part of the candle lighting obligation itself.  As such, once the onein is exempt from the obligation of candle lighting, he is naturally exempt as well from the obligation to light in a manner that does not leave room for suspicion.  According to this perspective, then, an onein would not be required to light Chanukah candles.

David Silverberg