The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

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Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT MISHPATIM

Rav David Silverberg

The final verses of Parashat Mishpatim tell that the leaders of Benei Yisrael – Moshe, Aharon, Aharon's two older sons, and the seventy elders – beheld the representation of God's presence: "They saw the God of Israel: under His feet there was the likeness of a sapphire brick, like the very sky for purity" (24:10). While we obviously cannot fully comprehend the true meaning of this sight, which, according to Ibn Ezra and Chizkuni, constituted a prophetic vision, we will nevertheless attempt to understand at some level the meaning behind this description of God's presence.

To what does the Torah refer when it speaks of "under His feet"? The simplest explanation appears to be that of Seforno, who associates this verse with a famous phrase from the end of Sefer Yeshayahu (66:1): "The heavens are My Throne, and the earth is My footstool." What this group of select individuals saw, therefore, was the top of God's "footstool" – the highest point of the earth, where it meets with the heavens. The Torah thus emphasizes that the vision of God's presence shown to these men marked the very "bottom" so-to-speak, of God's glory, its manifestation in its lowest form.

A different approach to the symbolic meaning of this phrase – "under His feet" – appears in Rav Barukh Yitzchak Yissakhar Ha-levi Leventhal's "Birkat Yitzchak." Earlier in Sefer Shemot (11:8), we read that Moshe warns Pharaoh of the final plague – the smiting of the firstborn – which would prompt the king's courtiers to plead with Moshe to take Benei Yisrael out of Egypt. Moshe foresees that the royal courtiers will approach him and beg, "tzei ata ve-khol ha-am asher be-raglekha" – literally, "Depart, you and all the people 'that are in your foot'." This final phrase – "ha-am asher be-raglekha" – clearly refers to those people under Moshe's charge. From here Rav Leventhal concludes that the word "regel" – "foot" – at times denotes leadership and authority. Accordingly, he understands the Torah's reference to "God's feet" to mean His governance of the world. These men did not actually see a physical image of God's presence. Rather, they arrived at a clear understanding of "His feet," the system by which He governs, judges and rules mankind. This system now appeared to them as clear as sapphire, "like the very sky for purity." God's judgment and authority now appeared crystal-clear; the many questions and perplexities that often beleaguer the human mind upon witnessing the seeming injustices of the world were at once resolved at this moment of prophetic clarity.

The verse describes what they saw as "the likeness of 'livnat ha-sapir." Some controversy exists as to the precise meaning of this phrase. Rav Sa'adya Gaon interpreted it to mean "the whiteness of sapphire." Chizkuni explains that there exists both black and white sapphire, and thus the Torah clarifies that these men saw the likeness of white sapphire. Ibn Ezra strongly disagrees, advancing several arguments to prove that "livnat" here evolves from the word "leveina" – "brick" – rather than "lavan" – white. Accordingly, Ibn Ezra claims, these men saw a sapphire brick, which he explains as a reference to the sapphire Throne of God described by the prophet Yechezkel (1:26).

Rashi, based on the Midrash, also interprets "livnat ha-sapir" to mean a sapphire brick. He writes, "It [this brick] was before Him during the period of bondage to remember the suffering of Israel, who were subjected to brickwork." Meaning, what Moshe, Aharon, and the elders saw was what the Almighty Himself kept before Him, as it were, ever since the days of the Egyptian bondage: the image of brick, symbolic of the brickwork painstakingly performed by the Israelite slaves in Egypt. How might we understand this concept, that a "brick" was placed before God in the heavens to symbolize Benei Yisrael's bondage?

Rav Avraham Yafhan of Nevardok, as cited in the work, "Ha-musar Ve-ha-da'at," explained this Midrash as expressing the fact that nothing of Egypt's architectural achievements had an enduring effect, other than their slaves' suffering. The enormous buildings, pyramids, cities and warehouses built from the sweat, blood and tears of the Hebrew slaves never made it to the heavens, so-to-speak; it all disappeared from memory at some point and hardly left an impact. When God looks upon Benei Yisrael's period of slavery in Egypt, He sees only the bricks that Benei Yisrael were forced to produce; He affords importance not to the towering palaces and fortresses, but to the injustice through which they came into being. The Midrash thus emphasizes the point that God's assessment of mankind focuses not on their material achievements, but rather on the values and principles by which they live.

Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in his commentary, likewise associates this "sapphire brick" with the bricks of Egypt, only in a different vein. He writes: "Just as when they were 'avdei Pharaoh' [servants of Pharaoh] they had to prepare bricks…to build up the might of the Pharaohs, so now, as 'avdei Hashem' in the service of God, they make 'bricks' for building up the Kingdom of God on earth." The sapphire brick thus underscores the transformation Benei Yisrael have now undergone from subjects of Pharaoh to subjects of the Almighty. Rather than collecting straw to produce bricks for Egypt's buildings, Benei Yisrael have now, through their expression of commitment to God's laws ("na'aseh ve-nishma" – 24:7), built the "brick" – the foundation – of God's Kingdom. Their unwavering devotion to His Torah and faithful observance will serve to glorify the Name of God in His world, and represent His unchallenged authority to the rest of the mankind.

*****

In Parashat Mishpatim the Torah warns of the harsh punishment that will befall those who mistreat widows or orphans: "If you do mistreat them, I will heed their outcry… And My anger shall blaze forth and I will put you to the sword, and your own wives shall become widows and your children orphans" (22:22-3). At first glance, the Torah's description of God's wrath that will be kindled as a result of this crime contradicts a general principle established by the Rambam, in his Moreh Nevukhim (1:35). The Rambam there asserts that the Torah employs the anthropomorphic image of divine anger only in reference to God's response to idolatry. No other sin, the Rambam claims, evokes a divine response worthy of description in these terms. The Rambam posits this principle in discussing the unique nature of idolatry that sets it fundamentally apart from all other transgressions. In any event, the verse cited above from Parashat Mishpatim, in which God warns that His "anger shall blaze forth" to punish those who abuse the underprivileged, would appear to contradict this principle.

The Malbim therefore suggests that this very problem prompted Rabbi Yishmael, as cited in the Mekhilta, to associate the term "charon af" ("anger") used in this context with a later instance of this term – in the second paragraph of shema (Devarim 11:17). There, Moshe describes the arousal of God's anger in response to the people's idolatry, which will be punished through drought and exile. Rabbi Yishmael comments that these same punishments will befall Benei Yisrael should they mistreat the widows and orphans. According to Rabbi Yishmael, then, we might still accept the Rambam's theory, that the concept of divine anger is reserved for the sin of idolatry. In our context the Torah simply enlists the term "charon af" for purposes of drawing an association between the sin of abusing the underprivileged and idolatry, as a subtle indication of the fact that similar punishments will befall the nation for both these violations.

Still, the question remains, what rationale underlies this association? Why should Benei Yisrael suffer the same punishment for mistreating orphans as they do for worshipping idols?

Rav Moshe Feinstein is cited as boldly asserting that abusing the disadvantaged position of the underprivileged itself constitutes a form of idolatry. Very often, disregard for the needs of the underprivileged results from a philosophy of predetermined casting, the belief that destiny has somehow subjected certain people to certain conditions, and there is therefore no need or purpose for others to intervene and try to improve their lot. Such an outlook indeed involves a certain element of idolatrous beliefs. Many ancient idolaters accepted the monotheistic concept of a single Creator, but believed that He has withdrawn from the world and delegated the various powers among the forces of nature. As such, certain conditions are predetermined and unalterable. If a person suffers poverty, his crisis must have resulted naturally from his astrological sign or some other alleged natural force, which cannot be opposed or neutralized. Naturally, adherents of such an approach will have no qualms of taking full advantage of the plight of the orphan and widow, since, according to their outlook, this is their predetermined destiny in any event.

Herein, Rav Moshe suggests, lies the connection between abusing the underprivileged and idolatry. God punishes Benei Yisrael for mistreating orphans and widows because such conduct involves a tinge of idolatry, a denial of God's direct providence over all mankind and loving concern for each and every member of His nation and His world.

*****

Parashat Mishpatim begins with the laws of the "eved ivri," the Hebrew indentured servant, generally identified as a Jew whom Bet-Din sells into indentured servitude due to his inability to repay money he had stolen. (According to one view in the Gemara, this section refers as well to a Jew who sold himself into slavery after experiencing financial straits.) The Torah requires that the master free the servant after six years of service. If, however, the servant expresses his preference to remain in his master's service, the master must perform a ceremony called "retzi'a," by which he pierces his ear to the door of his home. This symbolic act binds the servant to his master's service until the jubilee year.

The Gemara in Masekhet Kiddushin (22b) explains the underlying meaning behind this ceremony, which expresses the Torah's strong disapproval of the servant's decision to remain in his master's service. Firstly, the Gemara says, "the ear that heard at Mount Sinai, 'for it is to Me that the Israelites are slaves ' (Vayikra 25:55) and went ahead and acquired a master for itself – shall be pierced." Many commentators have noted the difficulty in this passage, given the fact that Benei Yisrael did not actually hear this declaration from God at Mount Sinai. For our purposes here, however, it suffices that the Gemara views this ritual as a punishment, admonishing the servant for choosing a life of servitude, which necessarily infringes upon his sense of servitude to the Almighty. Similarly, the Gemara continues, the doorframes of the Jewish homes in Egypt witnessed God "passing over" these homes to rescue Benei Yisrael and take them as His slaves. Appropriately, then, the indentured servant undergoes this ritual specifically in front of the doorframe, as a reminder of his status as God's slave, which has now been undermined by his decision to become a permanent servant of another Jew.

Even more strikingly, the Yerushalmi (Kiddushin 1:2) views the ear-piercing ritual as a punishment against the ear which heard at Sinai, "You shall have no other gods besides Me" – the second of the Ten Commandments – and violated this precept by willingly entering the service of a human master. According to the Yerushalmi, then, willful acceptance of a master other than God may even constitute a form of idolatry, as it infringes upon one's absolute devotion and fidelity to the Almighty.

This understanding of the ear-piercing ritual might shed light on the first halakha mentioned in this parasha, namely, the requirement to release the indentured servant after six years of work. Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in his commentary to these verses, emphasizes the ethical message underlying this obligation, Judaism's outright condemnation of the concept of slavery as it had been practiced for centuries by so many other peoples. However, the aforementioned sources give rise to the possibility that all the limitations relevant to a master's authority over his servant stem from a theological, rather than ethical, precept – "for it is to Me that the Israelites are slaves." Besides the injustice committed against the servant himself, permanent or degrading subjugation infringes upon God's honor, as it compromises His status, as it were, as the sole authority figure in the universe.

As Rav David Kviat notes in his "Sukat David," the Gemara's condemnation of one's willful subjection to servitude renders this area of Halakha practically relevant and of crucial importance even if technically the institution of "eved ivri" no longer obtains. There are many different ways in which a person can willingly take upon himself a master and thereby diminish his sense of exclusive servitude to the Almighty. Most obviously, as Rav Kviat discusses, many otherwise observant Jews subject themselves to "indentured servitude" in their professional life, by becoming "enslaved" by their careers and pursuit of wealth. While the Torah never discourages working to earn a livelihood, the laws of "eved ivri" could perhaps be seen as drawing a clear line between employment and subjugation. One's professional life must be accompanied by an awareness of God's ultimate control over one's sustenance, the obvious need for personal effort notwithstanding. Excessive or obsessive investment of time and effort in the pursuit of wealth could, at some point, infringe upon one's sense of subservience to the Almighty. If one's profession becomes his "master," rather than just an occupation, then he has compromised the exclusivity of his commitment to his Creator.

*****

Two days ago, we discussed the prohibition mentioned in Parashat Mishpatim against mistreating widows or orphans. This prohibition is accompanied by a warning of the divine retribution incurred by its violators: "If you do mistreat them, I will heed their outcry… And My anger shall blaze forth and I will put you to the sword, and your own wives shall become widows and your children orphans" (22:22-3). God here promises to severely punish those who abuse widows and orphans, by putting them to death, such that their wives and children will become widows and orphans, respectively. As we noted then, the anthropomorphic imagery of God's "anger" is generally reserved for sins involving idolatry. Its use in this context, as the Mekhilta explains, serves as an indication that violators of this prohibition will suffer as well the punishments that befall idolaters – drought and exile (see Devarim 11:17). The question remains, as we discussed two days ago, why should abuse of the widow and orphan incur the same form of retribution as idolatry?

Today we will suggest a different answer than the one we cited two days ago from Rav Moshe Feinstein zt"l.

In the verses cited above, God promises to heed the cry of the widow and orphan and exact retribution against their abusers. The Midrash (Shemot Rabba) provides the following explanation for this promise:

The Mekhilta of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai similarly explains, "I [the Almighty] am quick to punish on account of the widow and orphan, more so than any other person, because a wife resorts to her husband, a son resorts to his father; but these – they have none to whom to resort, other than to Me." In other words, the Almighty proclaims Himself the father of orphans and the husband of widows. Since they have no one else to protect their rights and provide for them, God Himself assumes this role. This is why He reacts the way He does to the mistreatment of widows and orphans. A crime committed against a widow or orphan amounts to a crime committed against the Almighty Himself, for He is their husband or father, as it were. He exacts retribution against the offenders because He, like any parent or husband, naturally comes to the protection of His loved-ones. He punishes not so much as a God, but as the victim's family-member, so-to-speak.

Indeed, the Rambam writes in Hilkhot Dei'ot (6:10), that the prohibition against mistreating orphans applies until "they have no need for an older person on whom to rely, to train them and to care for them, but he rather cares for his own needs independently, like all other adults." This prohibition stems from God's self-proclaimed status as "father of orphans" and "judge of widows." Naturally, then, it applies with respect to orphans only so long as the orphan requires a "father" to defend him and care for him. The moment he grows to maturity to the point where he, "like all other adults," can function independently, God is no longer his "father" (besides in the more general sense, in which God is, of course, everyone's "Father"), and the prohibition thus no longer applies.

In this vein, perhaps, we can understand the association drawn between this violation and idolatry. As we recently read in the Ten Commandments, God warns, ""You shall not bow to them [idols] or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a zealous God" (20:5). God punishes idolaters because of the element of personal betrayal involved. Obviously, the concept of "anger" and "zealotry" in reference to God works solely on the level of anthropomorphic imagery, and we do not really understand what the Torah means when it speaks of God experiencing these emotions, so-to-speak. But on this level of imagery, God's anger is aroused by foreign worship because it constitutes an outright rejection of His authority and an abrogation of His covenant with us. Idolatry thus amounts to a personal betrayal of God, and He thus reacts with anger and zealotry.

The same perhaps applies to the abuse of His children and spouses, as it were – the orphans and widows. One who mistreats them commits a personal offense against Him, inasmuch as they are part of His family, so-to-speak. Expectedly, then, just as in the case of idolatry, God warns, "My anger will blaze forth" to punish the violators and thereby protect the abused orphans and widows, whom He has taken as His own children and spouses.

*****

Today we will discuss further the prohibition mentioned in Parashat Mishpatim against mistreating orphans and widows (22:21). One obvious question emerges from the very need to issue such a command: what about everyone else? If the Torah must instruct, "You shall not ill-treat any widow or orphan," does this not imply that one may mistreat those who are blessed with husbands and fathers? Or, does the Torah here perhaps refer to a higher standard of treatment required when dealing with orphans and widows, beyond that which it demands in our relationships with other people?

The Mekhilta addresses this issue and cites two passages dealing with the scope of this prohibition. Rabbi Yishmael states explicitly that the prohibition against "mistreatment" clearly applies to all people, not only widows and orphans. He deduces this extension from a subtle nuance in the Torah's formulation. Generally, "you shall not ill-treat" would be written in Biblical Hebrew as "lo te'anu." However, the Torah here appends – seemingly unnecessarily – a letter "nun" at the end of the word "te'anu," yielding "te'anun." This type of nuance generally serves as a poetic device or as a means of emphasis. According to Rabbi Yishmael, the extra letter in this context alludes to its extension beyond the parameters explicitly established in the verse. Meaning, whereas the verse speaks only of orphans and widows, in truth, this prohibition applies to all people.

Why, then, does the Torah here refer to only these members of society? The Mekhilta, immediately after citing Rabbi Yishmael's comment, proceeds to bring a remark by Rabbi Akiva, seemingly intended to resolve this question: "Rabbi Akiva says, 'The widow and the orphan, who are customarily ill-treated – the Scripture speaks of them." The Torah issued this warning against mistreatment specifically with regard to widows and orphans because it is with regard to these particularly vulnerable members of society that such a phenomenon is most likely to occur. Seemingly, as mentioned, Rabbi Akiva here seeks merely to clarify Rabbi Yishmael's position, by explaining why the Torah specified orphans and widows when in truth the prohibition applies to all people. Indeed, Rashi writes, "This applies to all people, only the Scripture addresses that which is common – because they are feeble, and their mistreatment is a frequent occurrence." Rashi cites Rabbi Akiva's remark as an explanation for why the verse mentions only the orphans and widows if it actually refers to all members of the nation.

The Rambam, however, clearly held otherwise. Neither in his Sefer Ha-mitzvot (mitzvat asei 256) nor in Mishneh Torah (Hilkhot Dei'ot 6:10) does he give any indication that this prohibition applies to anyone other than widows or orphans. To the contrary, in introducing this prohibition (in Hilkhot Dei'ot), he explains that one may not torment a widow or orphan "because their mood is very despondent and their spirit is low." This law stems from the fact that orphans and widows are particularly sensitive and fragile. Clearly, then, this verse refers only to them, and not to anyone else. Indeed, the Rambam describes this law as requiring more than merely refraining from abusive conduct towards orphans and widows. He writes, "One must speak with them only softly, and should treat them only honorably. And one may not inflict pain upon their bodies through hard labor, or in their hearts, through harsh words. And one must care for their money more so than his own." The Rambam here speaks not only in the negative, but also in the affirmative; he speaks here not only of what one may not do to orphans and widows ("one may not inflict pain upon their bodies…"), but also of what one must do. The Torah requires not only refraining from abusive speech, but speaking with them softly; we must not only ensure not to take advantage of them financially, but "care for their money" as our own. In fact, in Sefer Ha-mitzvot, the Rambam adds that one must endeavor to engage in commercial activity with orphans and widows, to help ensure their financial stability. This standard of treatment clearly exceeds what is strictly required with regard to others.

According to the Rambam, then, this verse speaks specifically about widows and orphans, and requires a higher standard of sensitivity and concern. Given their particularly strong sense of insecurity, we are obliged to deal with them with a higher degree of compassion and respect, and make every effort to allow them the same healthy feeling of confidence, stability and security enjoyed by others.

*****

Towards the end of Parashat Mishpatim, we read of the formal covenantal ceremony conducted by Benei Yisrael at Mount Sinai (chapter 24). It is during this ceremony when the nation issues the famous declaration of "na'aseh ve-nishma" – "we will perform and we will hear" (24:7).

Interestingly, twice earlier Benei Yisrael make a similar proclamation, but with only the first of these two words – "na'aseh" ("we will perform"). Earlier, in Parashat Yitro, when Benei Yisrael arrive at Sinai and Moshe ascends the mountain, God bids him to inform Benei Yisrael of the basic terms of the covenant: "if you will obey Me faithfully and keep My covenant, you shall be My treasured people… and you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (19:5-6). Moshe conveys this message to the people, and the Torah records their response: "All the people answered as one, saying, 'All that the Lord has spoken we will do'" (19:8). Then, a bit earlier in Parashat Mishpatim, we read that Moshe informs the nation of "all the commands of the Lord and all the rules" (24:3). In the interest of simplicity, we will assume the position of Ibn Ezra (as opposed to Rashi), who interprets this verse as a reference to the laws of Parashat Mishpatim, which Moshe had just learned. Once again, the people proclaim their commitment: "and all the people answered with one voice, saying, 'All the things that the Lord has commanded we will do." The final declaration – "na'aseh ve-nishma" – occurs after Moshe reads to them the "Sefer Ha-berit" ("Book of the Covenant"), which he had written immediately after their prior declaration of "na'aseh." (See 24:4.) Again, for simplicity's sake, we will assume that this "Sefer Ha-berit" was simply a written record of the laws Moshe had just transmitted to them (in accordance with Ibn Ezra's position).

In summary, then, Benei Yisrael proclaim their obedience on three occasions: upon hearing the basic terms of the covenant; upon hearing the laws of Parashat Mishpatim; and upon hearing Moshe read the "Sefer Ha-berit."

The question, of course, arises, why only in the final instance do they pledge their commitment to both "perform" and "hear," whereas in the earlier two instances they proclaim only, "We will perform"?

Rav Yehuda Hertzl Henkin, in his work, "New Interpretations on the Parsha," suggests an explanation by first examining more carefully the precise meaning of the word "nishma" in this context. While we generally translate the word to mean, "we will hear," the verb "sh.m.a." at times denotes understanding, rather than hearing, listening or obeying. The clearest example, as Rav Henkin notes, appears in the story of Yosef and his brothers in Sefer Bereishit. Yosef's brothers come to Egypt to purchase grain and do not realize that the viceroy before whom they stand to make their request was in fact their brother. At one point, they converse among themselves in their mother's tongue in Yosef's presence, totally unaware that he could understand them, having spoken to him all along through an interpreter. The Torah tells, "They did not know that Yosef understood [ki SHOMEI'A Yosef], for there was an interpreter between him and them" (Bereishit 42:23). Clearly, the Torah here employs the verb "sh.m.a." in reference to comprehension.

On this basis, Rav Henkin suggests a novel interpretation of the celebrated expression, "na'aseh ve-nishma." Benei Yisrael here pledge that they will not only perform the commandments, but they will then apply themselves assiduously to studying and comprehending their intricacies and meanings, as well. This explains why this proclamation occurred only after Moshe recorded the laws he received. Only once Benei Yisrael had a written text can they commit themselves to studying and pondering the commandments. So long as the transmission of these laws took place only orally, they could pledge obedience, but not scholarship. But now that Moshe wrote for them the "Sefer Ha-berit," they now have a written text to which they can apply themselves and understand to the best of their ability.

Rav Henkin suggested that this approach also resolves another anomaly regarding these verses, which has troubled many commentators throughout the centuries. In recording Benei Yisrael's first two proclamations, the Torah emphasizes their unity and single voice: "all the people answered as one"; "and all the people answered with one voice." We do not find this emphasis with regard to the final proclamation, of "na'aseh ve-nishma." In this context, the Torah simply states, "And they said… " Rav Henkin explained that practical observance of Torah is the same for all members of the nation. We are all obligated to observe and perform all the Torah's laws, regardless of occupation, intellectual capability, general orientations, and so on. Appropriately, then, the Torah describes Benei Yisrael's collective promise to observe the Torah as having been issued "as one" and "with one voice," since they all made the precise same commitment: to obey the Torah's laws. The pledge of "na'aseh ve-nishma," by contrast, included not only observance, but scholarship, as well. Naturally, not all members of the nation will engage in this pursuit to the same extent. Am Yisrael has always had a hierarchy of scholarship, ranging from the laymen to the prophets and supreme halakhic authorities. This declaration, therefore, could not possibly have been uttered "with a single voice," because not everyone committed himself to study at the same level. Rather, each member of Am Yisrael made a commitment to study and understand the Torah's laws to the best of his ability, at a level which will necessarily differ from that achieved by others.

*****

Yesterday, we discussed the meaning and significance of the celebrated proclamation, "na'aseh ve-nishma" ("we will perform and we will hear"), which Benei Yisrael make upon hearing Moshe's reading of the "Sefer Ha-berit" ("Book of the Covenant"), as recorded in Parashat Mishpatim (24:7). As we saw, twice earlier (19:8, 24:3) Benei Yisrael declare "na'aseh" – "we will perform" – without adding the second pledge, "nishma" – "we will hear." Today we will present and discuss the approach taken by Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch to clarify the precise meaning of this declaration particularly in this context.

Rav Hirsch's approach, similar to the explanation cited yesterday, understands the unique significance of "na'aseh ve-nishma" as stemming from the availability of a written text of God's laws, which Moshe had just composed. Yesterday, we focused on the opportunities for thorough and intensive learning made available by a written text, as opposed to oral transmission, which does not easily lend itself to rigorous study and analysis. Rav Hirsch sees in the written text a grave danger, as well. Once words appear in writing, their readership can ascribe to them a certain independence from their author. The published word can be seen as standing on its own, and its strict, literal interpretation can be taken as its only relevant and authoritative feature. Readers might then dissociate the text from its original context and meaning, which, especially when dealing with the divine creed, can lead to catastrophic distortions and misinterpretations.

At this point, therefore, Benei Yisrael found it necessary to affirm their commitment to not only "na'aseh" – the observance of the written word – but also "nishma" – to continued devotion to the oral tradition accompanying the written text of the Torah. The oral interpretations and clarifications of the Torah's text are indispensable to the faithful observance of the laws it presents. Therefore, any serious commitment to Torah must, by definition, include a belief in and loyalty to the oral law, which provides us with the framework within which to study and contemplate the Torah's text, as well as the tools for extracting practical laws and values from the written word.

Rav Hirsch's comments bear relevance to a number of different issues. Most directly, Rav Hirsch here undoubtedly alludes to the secularist approach to Biblical study, which approached Tanakh without giving any deference whatsoever to Judaism's oral tradition. While many commentators throughout the ages – including Rav Hirsch himself – have offered novel interpretations to the Biblical text that differ from those given by Chazal, their approaches have nevertheless remained within the general halakhic and spiritual framework established by our tradition. Rav Hirsch here emphasizes that our nation's initial acceptance of the Torah at Sinai anticipated the dangers of divorcing the written word from the oral tradition, and our ancestors explicitly declared their commitment to both.

Additionally, however, this concept, of the inherent limits of a written text, brings to mind a point emphasized numerous times by the Rosh Yeshiva, HaRav Yehuda Amital shlit"a, concerning the significance of the yeshiva experience. Rav Amital argued that hearing a cassette recording of a shiur, while valuable in its own right, cannot compare with the experience of sitting in the presence of an accomplished scholar and listening to the lecture. The transmission of Torah involves more than the written word and the technical knowledge conveyed. The process of Torah education features as well a distinctively experiential quality, through which the student receives from his mentor far more than raw data. The process of mesora (transmission) involves a wide array of values, character traits and objectives that help infuse the young student with not only knowledge of Torah, but also an awareness of what it means to live a Torah life.