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by Rav David Silverberg

The mishna in Pirkei Avot (4:11) likens repentance to a "shield in face of calamity." Meaning, teshuva helps save one from calamity much as a shield protects the body from harm. Later writers have addressed the specific metaphor employed by the mishna, the comparison between teshuva and a shield. The fact that the mishna did not write simply, "Teshuva protects one from calamity," but rather drew this analogy, suggests that this specific image could shed light on how precisely teshuva works to help a sinner avoid punishment.

Rabbi Azarya Pigo, in his Bina le-Itim (52), distinguishes between a shield and other forms of bodily protection. Armor and other protective gear defend against injuries to specific parts of the body; a helmet shields the head, a bulletproof vest protects the chest, and so on. The shield, by contrast, is used to protect the entire body. By moving his shield in the direction of the enemy, the warrior can avoid harm to any part of his body. Similarly, teshuva has the power to cure all spiritual ills - and thus help the individual avoid punishment for any transgressions. Repentance is generic; all transgressions lend themselves to repentance. A person can therefore never excuse himself from repentance with the claim that his sin can never be forgiven.

A commentary to Avot attributed to Rabbi Avraham, the brother of the Vilna Gaon, focuses on a different characteristic of the shield as the point of its similarity with teshuva. Although, as mentioned, the shield protects the entire body, it does so only when its bearer holds it in the proper direction. A shield defends only against assaults from the direction to which it points. Similarly, teshuva is effective only to the extent to which it is directed towards the "enemy," toward the sin for which the threat of punishment looms. One cannot be said to have performed teshuva if he intensifies his observance of an area other than that in which he had erred. Teshuva entails confronting one's faults directly; only by facing the "enemy" head-on can one hope to overcome the effects of his sin.

We conclude with an interesting observation concerning this mishna in the work, "le-Horot Natan." The fact that the mishna speaks of a "shield against calamity" implies that it addresses a situation where the threat of calamity exists; meaning, the repentance that the mishna describes did not eradicate entirely the threat of retribution. The "le-Horot Natan" therefore concludes that we are dealing here with an incomplete teshuva, a situation where the sinner has not made a total break from his sinful past. Nevertheless, even this halfhearted repentance protects him from punishment. It may not have the same power as complete teshuva to eliminate any threat of punishment, but it does offer some protection. This notion should perhaps encourage us during this period of the Asseret Yemei Teshuva to simply do the best we can. We will likely not break all our bad habits entirely over the course of 5763; undoubtedly some of even our most sincere efforts at change will fall short of the desired result. But this does not undermine the significance of these efforts. Even a partial achievement in teshuva is an important achievement.

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As discussed several days ago, one of the components of the Yom Kippur "avoda," or sacrificial ritual, was the "sa'ir la-azazel," known as the "sa'ir ha-mishtalei'ach," or "scapegoat," which was sent into the wilderness as symbolic of the elimination of Benei Yisrael's sins. The mishna in Masekhet Yoma (67a) records that booths with food and water were erected along the route leading from the Temple Mount to the cliff from where the goat was cast. As the man carrying the goat - known as the "ish iti" (Vayikra 16:21) - proceeded along the route, he would encounter the booths, whose attendants would offer him food and drink. The Gemara there adds that never did it happen that the individual required some food or drink as he made his way into the wilderness. The implication, however, is that special permission would be granted to the "ish iti" to eat or drink should the need arise. Indeed, the Rambam writes (Hilkhot Avodat Yom ha-Kippurim 3:7) that if the messenger felt faint he was fed along the route. The implication is that the "ish iti" may eat even before the point of "sakanat nefashot" - where he faces a life-threatening situation. Once he feels too faint to continue along his trek to the wilderness, he is permitted to eat or drink, as necessary to complete this ritual of the "sa'ir ha-mishtalei'ach."

At first glance, this halakha should surprise us. True, as the Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (66a) establishes, the Yom Kippur rituals override the issurei melakha - the work-related prohibitions that Yom Kippur shares with Shabbat. Most obviously, then, the slaughtering of animals for the Yom Kippur service is clearly sanctioned, despite the general prohibition against killing animals on Shabbat and Yom Kippur. But from where do we derive the halakha that the Yom Kippur ritual overrides the requirement of "inuy" - fasting on Yom Kippur? Nowhere in the Talmud do we find an explicit source for this provision.

On this basis, Rav Chayim Brisker arrived at a fundamental theory concerning the nature of Yom Kippur. Both the prohibition against "melakha" (work, activity forbidden on Shabbat) and the requirement to fast (and abstain from other forms of physical enjoyment) evolve from the same essential, halakhic origin. That is, we should not view these two halakhot as separate, distinct laws that both apply on Yom Kippur. Rather, Yom Kippur possesses a specific "kedushat ha-yom" (a sanctity intrinsic to the day) which naturally yields both a requirement to fast and a prohibition against fasting. Therefore, in situations when one halakha is overridden, the other is automatically overridden, as well, since the two stem from the same origin. Rav Soloveitchik found further evidence to this theory in the Rambam's syntax in Hilkhot Shevitat Asor 1:5, where he employs the term "shevita" in reference to the obligation to abstain from food and the other "inuyim" (forms of self-denial) on Yom Kippur. This term is generally reserved for issur melakha, the prohibition against certain forms of activity on Shabbat and Yom Tov. That the Rambam introduces the term in the context of the inuyim would perhaps suggest an intrinsic relationship between them and issur melakha, that both originate from the same halakhic source.

Another possible ramification of this theory involves a situation when a circumcision must be performed on Yom Kippur. A well-established halakhic axiom dictates that when a baby boy's eighth day falls on Shabbat, Yom Tov or Yom Kippur, the circumcision is performed that day regardless of the prohibition against bloodletting that would normally apply. According to Rabbi Eliezer (in Masekhet Shabbat, chapter 19), not only does the circumcision itself override the prohibitions of Shabbat, but all preparatory stages override these prohibitions, as well, Thus, for example, a mohel may carry the knife needed for the circumcision through a public domain to perform a circumcision on Shabbat, despite the prohibition against carrying in public on Shabbat. Rav Chayim Brisker wondered about a situation where a baby must be circumcised on Yom Kippur but the mohel experiences physical weakness due to the fast - a weakness that precludes the possibility of his performing the ritual. Would Rabbi Eliezer permit him to eat or drink as necessary to enable him to perform the circumcision? (Incidentally, halakha does not follow Rabbi Eliezer's view; Rabbi Chayim's query therefore has no practical application.)

Rav Soloveitchik explained this inquiry based on the above discussion. If preparations for circumcision may override the issurei melakha of Yom Kippur (according to Rabbi E), then, according to the theory advanced earlier, they should override the inuyim, as well. Just as the Yom Kippur rituals theoretically override inuyim - and thus the "ish iti" is permitted to eat should this be necessary for the completion of his task, so might the preparations for a berit mila override the obligation to fast.

(Taken from Rav Michel Shurkin's "Harerei Kedem")

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We conclude this year's series of divrei Torah for Yom Kippur with an idea related to the se'irim - to the two goats brought by Benei Yisrael as sin-offerings on this day. As discussed in previous editions of S.A.L.T., one of the two goats was offered as a standard korban chatat, or sin-offering, upon the altar. The other, known as the "se'ir ha-mishtalei'ach," or the "se'ir la-azazel," was carried into the wilderness and cast off a cliff. The designation of the goats was determined by a "goral," a lottery, which the kohen gadol drew as part of the Yom Kippur ritual in the Temple. The kohen gadol would have two pieces of paper brought to him, with one the two words, "le-Hashem" and "le-azazel" written on each. He would place one piece of paper near each goat, and this would determine the fate of each. The mishna in Masekhet Yoma (62b) introduces an interesting provision, that the two goats chosen for this lottery were to be identical in size, appearance and value.

What is the meaning behind this ritual, and how does this final provision contribute to this meaning?

Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in his commentary to Vayikra 16, develops a beautiful, symbolic approach to the two se'irim. In his view, the two goats represent the two potentials latent within every human being. Each of us has the potential to be entirely "le-Hashem," to become sacred and pure, entirely devoted to the service of our Creator - similar to the sin-offering that is burnt on the altar. At the same time, man has the potential of "le-azazel," to lead a life of sheer meaninglessness and vanity. At the outset, the two goats are identical; neither has more of a chance of being selected for either destiny than the other. Until the kohen gadol conducts the lottery, the fate of the goats are undetermined. This symbolically represents the fundamental precept of free will. Inherently, our two potentials are precisely equal; before our own decisions, no one "goat" within us has more of a chance of being actualized than the other. Only we, not fate or any other predetermining force, hold the key to the outcome, will decide the outcome of our two, internal se'irim. One potential within us will remain dormant, while the other will be actualized in our behavior and in the kind of people we become.

Yom Kippur, then, is the day when we establish which of the two se'irim within us we want to materialize. By devoting this day entirely "le-Hashem," we declare our intention to pursue a life of meaning and substance, rather than a life of "la-azazel" - of purposelessness and futility. Perhaps more importantly, we declare our recognition of the fact that the choice is others. We have the power to decide who we will become this coming year, and we have the power to actualize that decision.

Gemar chatima tova

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When taking the lulav to fulfill the mitzva on Sukkot, we recite the berakha, "al netilat lulav," a berakha already recorded in the Talmud (Masekhet Sukka 37b; 46a). The question arises as to why in formulating the text for this berakha, Chazal chose the term, "netila" to describe the mitzva of lulav. True, this word does, indeed, mean to take or to take hold. But the Torah employs a different expression in introducing the obligation of lulav: "U-l'kachtem lakhem" (Vayikra 23:40) - the expression "lekicha," which also means taking. We would perhaps have expected Chazal to adopt the Torah's expression when formulating the text for the berakha over this mitzva. Why did they ordain that we employ the term, "netila" rather than "lekicha"?

Rav Barukh ha-Levi Epstein, in his Torah Temima (to Vayikra 23:40), offers an explanation based on a Midrashic passage concerning the nature of this mitzva. According to the Midrash, we hold the lulav and etrog on Sukkot as symbols of triumph, representing the favorable sentence we are confident we earned on the Yamim Nora'im. The Torah Temima cites from a work, "Lechem Sheleima" that triumphant armies would march with palm branches held high to celebrate their victory. Similarly, we celebrate our victory in the heavenly courtroom by proudly holding our lulav on Sukkot. The Torah Temima suggests that Chazal sought to express this underlying meaning of this mitzva in the text of the berakha. As opposed to "lekicha," which implies nothing more than the physical, objective act of taking, "netila," Rav Barukh Epstein claims, denotes taking hold of some item in a proud, emphatic, demonstrative manner. (He cites a proof text from Yeshayahu 63:9.) "Netila" thus more accurately describes the mitzva of lulav, and for this reason Chazal incorporated this expression, rather than the Biblical term, into the text of the berakha.

This approach, however, seems to assume that this Midrash indeed reflects the essential nature and quality of the mitzva and lulav. Birkot ha-mitzva (berakhot recited over the performance of mitzvot) are generally formulated in such a way that they capture the specific obligation required by the given mitzva. For example, there is a debate among the Rishonim concerning the proper text of the berakha recited over shofar blowing. According to the Rambam, the mitzva entails listening, rather than blowing, the shofar, and we therefore recite the berakha, "li-shmo'a kol shofar" ("to hear the sound of the shofar"). Rabbenu Tam, by contrast, views the essential obligation as requiring one to blow; his text therefore reads, "al teki'at shofar" ("blowing the shofar"). The underlying assumption seems to be that the text of the berakha should reflect the essential obligation. In his approach, the Torah Temima assumes that this Midrash describes not an ancillary, or accompanying, symbolic feature of the lulav, but rather its essential obligation, to hold the lulav triumphantly. This is far from simple. This would perhaps suggest that if one does not do so, but rather holds the lulav indifferently and lethargically, he does not fulfill the mitzva - which is somewhat difficult to imagine.

We may perhaps entertain a different possible explanation as to why Chazal chose the term "netila" when formulating the text of this berakha. The term "lekicha," which the Torah employs, can also mean "purchasing," rather than the physical act of taking hold of an item. Therefore, in the interest of specificity and clarity, Chazal substituted the Biblical term with the word "netila," which has only the meaning of physical holding and thus more clearly expresses the essential obligation of the mitzva of lulav.

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Among the most famous Midrashim associated with the festival of Sukkot identifies the arba minim (four species) as symbols for the four different categories within Am Yisrael. The etrog, which features both taste and fragrance, represents the tzadikim - the righteous among the nation who both study Torah and perform the mitzvot. The lulav comes from a palm tree, whose dates have a taste but no smell - symbolizing those who study but fail to perform. Conversely, the tasteless but fragrant hadasim represent those who observe and perform but do not study. Finally, the willows - aravot - symbolize those with neither taste nor smell - neither knowledge nor performance. The Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 30:12) concludes that we take all four species together in the hope that the merits of each group will be shared by all the rest, such that a unified Am Yisrael, when assessed as an organic entity, earns a favorable judgment before the Almighty.

It has been suggested that in light of this Midrash, we may perhaps associate - on the level of "derush" - the halakhot relevant to the various species to their identification in the Midrash. One particularly enlightening application of this theory has been suggested with respect tothe etrog, which, as stated, symbolizes the righteous. The Torah never uses the term "etrog" when introducing the obligation of arba minim. Instead, it speaks of a "peri etz hadar" - "fruit of a citrus tree" (Vayikra 23:40). The Gemara cites several different possibilities as to how the verse may be alluding specifically to the etrog, among them that of Rabbi Avahu (Masekhet Sukka 35a). He claims that we reread the word "hadar" as the composite term, "ha-dar" - "which resides." This hints to the fact that the fruit spoken of in the verse "resides" on its tree all year round, as opposed to other fruits which ultimately wither and fall from the tree. Hence, the verse alludes to the etrog as the specific fruit we are to take on Sukkot.

Returning to the Midrashic association between the etrog and the righteous, how does this quality of "ha-dar" characterize the tzadik, metaphorically represented by the etrog? Perhaps this association teaches that consistency is the trademark of a tzadik from a Torah perspective. The truly righteous person is the one who "resides on his tree" all year round, who acts as he should day in and day out. While most of us cannot maintain the standard we perhaps should over an extended period of time, the tzadik is constant and consistent.

This quality of the etrog/tzadik bears particular relevance to the festival Sukkot - as we would of course expect. Sukkot, which occurs just several days after Yom Kippur, marks our first opportunity to implement the decisions and resolutions made over the course of the Yamim Nora'im period. With the close of ne'ila on Yom Kippur begins the season of Sukkot, which affords us the opportunity to prove to ourselves the sincerity of our teshuva process during Elul and the first ten days of Tishrei. This is our chance to show that we are indeed an "etrog," which sits on its tree consistently all year round; this is our chance to show that the standards we set for ourselves in the weeks preceding Sukkot will be adhered to during the week of Sukkot and for many weeks and months beyond.

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The Gemara in Masekhet Sukka (26a) draws a fundamental distinction between the first night of Sukkot and the rest of the festival with regard to the mitzva of sukka. Throughout the festival, the obligation to eat in the sukka applies only if one chooses to eat; if he prefers not to eat an amount requiring a sukka, he may do so and thus never eat in the sukka (though it is much more preferable to eat everything in the sukka). This halakha stems from a basic axiom concerning the obligation of sukka known as "teishvu ke-ein taduru" - we must treat the sukka as our home. This principle yields several halakhot, among them the law we mentioned: just as one does not eat in his home if he chooses not to, so does one have the option not to eat a meal throughout the festival of Sukkot and thus never face an obligation to eat in the sukka.

This is not the case on the first night of Sukkot. The Gemara establishes that the Torah associates the festival of Sukkot - which occurs on the fifteenth of Tishrei - with Pesach - which falls on the fifteenth of Nissan. This association yields a parallel of sorts between the obligations of Pesach and that of Sukkot: just as one must eat a ke-zayit ("olive's worth") of matza on the first night of Pesach, so must one eat a ke-zayit of bread in the sukka on the first night of Sukkot. Unlike the rest of Sukkot, the first night features a specific obligation to eat in the sukka.

Much debate and discussion has taken place concerning the precise definition of this obligation. As mentioned, the principle of "teishvu ke-ein taduru" would dictate that the mitzva of sukka cannot compel an individual to eat against his will. On the first night, however, the association between Pesach and Sukkot does indeed do just that. One might therefore conclude that the obligation introduced by this association effectively renders all normal rules of sukka irrelevant. The fact that one must eat on this night, which seemingly negates a basic precept of the mitzva of sukka, perhaps suggests that the obligation to eat on the first night exists entirely independent of the familiar system of hilkhot sukka. On the other hand, some have argued that the basic halakhot of sukka still apply on the first night. All the association between Peach and Sukkot informs us is that what is optional the rest of Sukkot is obligatory on the first night. Just as the consumption of matza is optional throughout Pesach but required on the first night, so is eating in the sukka obligatory on the first night. But this does not amount to a suspension of the standard rules governing the obligation of sukka.

Arguably the most famous ramification of this debate concerns a situation of rainfall on the first night of Sukkot. The Ran cites a view, which is adopted by the Rosh as well as by his son, the Tur (O.C. 639), that although one need not eat in the sukka during rainfall, one must eat a ke-zayit of bread in the sukka on the first night of Sukkot regardless of the weather. Since on the first night we suspend the usual regulations concerning sukka, we cannot apply the rain exemption. The Rashba disagrees, and indeed the Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 639:5) draws no distinction between the first and other days with regard to the rainfall exemption. Accordingly, Sefaradim generally do not abide by this stringency, and eat their meals inside when it rains on the first night just as they would do any other night. The Rema, however, cites the view that if rain falls on the first night, one must recite kiddush and eat a ke-zayit of bread in the sukka before going inside to complete the meal. This is the common practice among Ashkenazim.

We should note, however, that conceptually, one may argue for an exemption from sukka when it rains on the first night regardless of how one understands the special requirement of this night. Rav Soloveitchik cited his grandfather, Rav Chayim Brisker, as claiming that during rainfall a sukka loses its formal halakhic status as such; is it reduced from a "sukka" to a makeshift hut. The exemption from sukka during rainfall evolves not merely from the standard principle of "teishvu ke-ein taduru," but because, quite simply, halakha does not afford the formal status of "sukka" to a sukka upon which large quantities of rain descend. (Actually, Reb Chayim extended this principle beyond the specific case of rainfall, to all instances of "mitzta'er" - when the sukka poses considerable discomfort.) If so, then regardless of how one understands the unique obligation of the first night, no requirement to eat in the sukka can possibly apply when it rains. Since the sukka has lost its formal status as such, eating in it is meaningless. Indeed, as Rav Soloveitchik quotes, Rav Chayim Brisker was of the opinion that one need not eat in the sukka when it rains on the first night. As mentioned, however, the common practice is to recite kiddush and eat a ke-zayit of bread on the first night before going inside.

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Yesterday we encountered the famous dispute among the authorities as to whether or not one must eat in the sukka on the first night of Sukkot when rain falls. The Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 639:5) makes no distinction between the first and subsequent nights (or days) of Sukkot when mentioning the rainfall exemption, strongly implying that the exemption applies on the first night, as well. The Rema, however, sides with those Rishonim who require one to make kiddush and eat a ke-zayit of bread in the sukka on the first night even when it rains. As we mentioned, this is the commonly accepted practice among most Ashkenazim.

A question arises in this situation as to whether or not one recites the berakha "lei-shev ba-sukka" when eating in the sukka on the first night in the rain. In mentioning the requirement to eat in the rain on the first night, the Rema makes no comment concerning the requirement to recite a berakha. This would perhaps suggest that in his view, one indeed recites a berakha just as he does when eating in the sukka under normal circumstances. The Arukhha-Shukchan (O.C. 639:18), however, observes that the practice in his time was not to recite the berakha when eating in the rain on the first night of Sukkot. This is also the ruling of several authorities cited by the Mishna Berura (639:35). The Arukh ha-Shulchan explains that the issue at hand is whether or not the stringent view, which requires eating in the sukka on the first night even in the rain, is accepted definitively as authoritative halakha. The Rema decided conclusively in favor of this position, and hence there is no reason to refrain from reciting the berakha. Common custom, however, was likely based on the position that the issue of whether or not one must eat in the sukka when it rains on the first night remains unresolved and was not decided upon definitively. Therefore, according to this practice, we employ the standard rules of "sefeikot" - the guidelines to be followed in situations of halakhic doubt. Given the fact that eating in the sukka on the first night constitutes a Biblical requirement, we must follow the stringent view, and hence we eat a ke-zayit in the sukka. With regard to berakhot, however, we refrain from reciting a berakha unless we are certain of its requirement. Therefore, communities refrained from reciting the berakha over the sukka when eating in the rain on the first night.

The Arukh ha-Shulchan adds that this dispute, between the Rema and the common practice in his day, yields another ramification, as well: whether this stringency applies as well on the second night of Sukkot in the Diaspora. The requirement to observe a second day of Yom Tov outside of Israel is of rabbinic origin; the Torah obligation applies only on the first day. Therefore, if, as is the custom, we do not recite a berakha over the sukka when it rains on the first night, thus reflecting our conviction that the debate among the authorities has not been resolved, then the stringency would not apply on the second night. Since the obligatory eating of the second night is of rabbinic origin, we are not stringent in situations of doubt. According to the Rema, however, we accept the stringent position definitively, and hence one must eat in the rain even on the second night of Sukkot in the Diaspora.

The commonly accepted view on this matter, as ruled by the Magen Avraham, Arukh ha-Shulchan and Mishna Berura, is to recite kiddush and eat inside when it rains on the second night but to eat a ke-zayit of bread towards the end of the meal outside in the sukka.

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