Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion
PARASHAT TZAV
by
Rav David Silverberg
In
Parashat Tzav, the Torah briefly discusses the halakhot concerning utensils
used to cook meat of korbanot chatat (sin offerings), and it distinguishes in
this regard between earthenware utensils ("kelei cheres") and metal
utensils (see 6:21). Earthenware utensils
must be broken, whereas metal utensils may be reused if they undergo the
procedure of "merika u-shetifa" – immersion in boiling water followed
by rinsing in cold water.
A
fundamental debate exists between the Rambam and the Ra'avad concerning the
application of these laws. In Hilkhot
Ma'aseh Ha-korbanot (8:14), the Rambam writes that generally, all utensils –
both metal and earthenware - used for sacrificial meat are "kashered"
(made reusable) through the process of merika u-shetifa. The rule mentioned in the Torah requiring
that earthenware utensils be broken applies specifically to utensils used to
cook meat of a korban chatat. Only
regarding meat of the sin offering does the Torah preclude the possibility of
kashering and demand the utensil's destruction.
Kelei cheres used for the meat of other sacrifices, however, may be
reused after merika u-shetifa. The
Ra'avad considers this ruling "an error," and claims that earthenware
utensils can never be kashered.
Indeed,
the Ra'avad's position appears, at first glance, very compelling. For the Rambam's ruling seems to contradict
one of the basic rules of kashering – rules which become particularly relevant
this time of year, as Pesach approaches.
The Gemara says in Masekhet Pesachim (30a), "The Torah testified
about earthenware utensils, that the prohibited material does not ever leave
its walls." Utensils used for
cooking non-kosher food may not be then used for cooking kosher food because
the taste of the cooked food is absorbed into the wall of the utensil over the
course of cooking. This taste will then
be extracted when the utensil is next used, thus rendering the food it cooks
non-kosher. Therefore, these utensils
may be used again only after undergoing the process of kashering, which is intended
to expunge any previous particles from the walls of the utensils. Based on the Torah's requirement to break any
earthenware utensils used for cooking meat of a chatat offering, the Gemara
deduces that absorbed particles in earthenware utensils can never be
expunged. This is precisely why the
Torah allows for merika u-shetifa only for metal utensils, and does not allow
for the kashering of earthenware utensils.
Therefore, as we know from the laws of Pesach, earthenware utensils
cannot be kashered for use on Pesach.
(Similarly, an earthenware utensil used for cooking dairy foods may
never be used for cooking meat.)
This
basic principle would appear to entirely negate the Rambam's ruling. How can the Rambam allow merika u-shetifa for
earthenware utensils used with sacrificial meat? Did not the Gemara establish that we have no
means by which to extract all particles absorbed into the walls of an
earthenware utensil?
Rav
Chayim of Brisk suggested that the Rambam distinguishes between two cases:
"hetera bala" and "issura bala" – meaning, between
instances when the particles were permitted for consumption at the time they
were absorbed, and when they were forbidden.
The case discussed in the Torah is one of "hetera bala" – the
utensils were used for cooking sacrificial meat permitted for consumption, and
at that moment they absorbed particles from the meat. The particles become forbidden only later,
when the time allotted for the consumption of the sacrificial meat ends, at
which point the meat becomes forbidden for consumption – a prohibition called
"notar." But at the time the
utensil was used to cook the meat, the meat was permitted for consumption and
hence the particles were absorbed in a state of "heter"
(permissibility). If, however, one would
cook non-kosher food, the utensil absorbs particles from forbidden food –
"issur bala." This distinction
will affect the status of earthenware utensil after kashering. In the Rambam's view, kashering an
earthenware utensil accomplishes a partial extraction of taste from its
walls. What remains in an earthenware
vessel after kashering is a "ta'am kalush" – a slight flavor of the
food previously cooked in the utensil.
Now the halakhic status of a "ta'am kalush," Rav Chayim
explains, depends on the circumstances.
If this taste had already been forbidden, then reducing it to a
"ta'am kalush" will have no effect; it will retain its forbidden
status. If, however, a utensil absorbed
taste of permissible food, and only after the taste was reduced into a
"ta'am kalush" did the given prohibition set in, the prohibition
would not affect the "ta'am kalush."
Therefore, since one performs merika u-shetifa on the utensil before the
sacrificial meat becomes notar (according to the Rambam; not all Rishonim agree
on this point), the onset of the prohibition of notar cannot affect the
"ta'am kalush" that remains after kashering.
In
summary, the Rambam maintained that kashering an earthenware utensil has the
effect of weakening the taste absorbed by the walls of the utensil. The resulting weak taste will retain its
previous status: if it had already been forbidden before kashering, it remains forbidden; if it was permissible at the time of kashering,
it cannot become forbidden afterwards, even if the given prohibition sets in at
that point.
One
problem, however, remains. If Rav
Chayim's analysis is correct, then we should be allowed to kasher earthenware
utensils for use on Pesach. Since the
kashering takes place before the prohibition of chametz sets in, the chametz particles
in the walls of the utensils should not become forbidden once Pesach begins,
since they had already been reduced to a "ta'am kalush" through
kashering. Why, then, according to the
Rambam, may we not kasher earthenware utensils for Pesach?
Tomorrow
we will iy"H address this question.
David Silverberg
*****
As
we discussed yesterday, the Torah mentions in Parashat Tzav (6:21) that an
earthenware utensil used for cooking the meat of a korban chatat (sin offering)
must be destroyed. Metal utensils, by
contrast, may be reused once they undergo "merika u-shetifa" –
immersion in hot water followed by rinsing in cold water. The Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (30a)
explains that the Torah here establishes a generic principle that when an
earthenware utensil is used for cooking and thus absorbs some taste of the
cooked food, that taste can never be extracted.
Therefore, once sacrificial meat is cooked in an earthenware utensil,
that utensil can never be used again, since the meat becomes forbidden for consumption
once its allotted time for consumption expires, and there is no method of
removing all the taste from the utensil.
Likewise, then, an earthenware utensil used for cooking non-kosher food
may never be used again, and an earthenware utensil used for cooking meat may
never be used for dairy (and vice versa).
Finally, earthenware utensils may not be "kashered" for
Pesach, for the same reason: the taste of chametz can never be fully removed
from the utensil.
The
Rambam, however, as we discussed, appears to contradict this rule established
in the Gemara. Yesterday we presented
the explanation given by Rav Chayim Brisker, who claimed that in the Rambam's
view, kashering an earthenware utensil in fact does release the absorbed taste,
but only partially, leaving behind a "ta'am kalush" ("weak"
taste). Although forbidden taste will
thus remain forbidden even after kashering,
permissible taste cannot become forbidden when a given prohibition takes effect
after kashering. Therefore, according to
the Rambam, one may kasher earthenware utensils used for sacrificial meat (with
the exception of meat of a chatat, to which special rules apply), because by
the time the prohibition of "notar" sets in, the taste in the utensil
has been reduced to a "ta'am kalush."
We
were left, however, with one important question. According to Rav Chayim's theory, the Rambam
should allow kashering earthenware utensils for Pesach. After all, if one kashers the utensil before
the onset of Pesach and before chametz becomes forbidden, the chametz taste in
the walls of the utensil reduces into a "ta'am kalush," which should
not be susceptible to the prohibition of chametz. Why is it, then, that according to all views
earthenware utensils cannot be kashered for Pesach?
Rav
Soloveitchik zt"l answered by demonstrating a fundamental distinction
between kashering utensils generally and kashering utensils for Pesach. In his discussion of the laws of kashering
non-kosher utensils, the Rambam (Hilkhot Ma'akhalot Asurot 17:4) writes that non-kosher
utensils used with hot water are kashered through immersion in hot water –
"hag'ala." Nothing more is
required. In the context of hilkhot
Pesach, by contrast, the Rambam requires for these utensils not merely
immersion in hot water, but also shetifa – rinsing in cold water after
immersion. This requirement does not
apply to kashering generally, and pertains only to the laws mentioned in
Parashat Tzav, regarding utensils used with sacrificial meat.
What
this demonstrates, Rav Soloveitchik explained, is that the laws of kashering
for Pesach differ from the halakhot of kashering generally. Normally, kashering is required only to
extract any forbidden taste that the utensil had absorbed. When it comes to Pesach, however, Chazal
imposed an additional requirement when one wishes to use on Pesach pots that
had been used with chametz. Beyond the
practical need to eliminate all absorbed chametz, Chazal added a separate rule
requiring chametz utensils to undergo a formal process before they can be used on
Pesach. They decreed that we should
treat chametz utensils before Pesach just as we would utensils used for
sacrificial meat, where the Torah requires not only the elimination of absorbed
taste, but also a separate, formal process, signified by the obligation of
shetifa – rinsing in cold water. This
rinsing has no physical effect upon the pot as does
hag'ala, but is part of the formal process of "kashering" required by
the Torah for utensils used for sacrificial meat, and which the Sages required
for chametz utensils in preparation for Pesach.
On
this basis Rav Soloveitchik explained why even the Rambam does not permit
kashering earthenware for Pesach.
Although, as we saw, in the Rambam's view, kashering earthenware
utensils will prevent the chametz prohibition from taking effect upon the
chametz taste embedded in the utensil's walls, it will not satisfy the second
halakha – the formal process of kashering instituted by Chazal. Since the taste of chametz remains absorbed
in these earthenware utensils, the utensil has a formal halakhic status of a
"chametz utensil," and must therefore undergo the process of
kashering. Given the impossibility of
ever divesting an earthenware utensil of its chametz status (since at least a
"ta'am kalush" of chametz will always remain), these utensils cannot
be kashered for Pesach.
(Taken from Rav Menachem Genack's
"Gan Shoshanim," 13)
David Silverberg
*****
Among
the laws concerning sacrifices presented in Parashat Tzav involves the duration
of time within which sacrificial meat may be eaten. The Torah writes that when a person offers a
voluntary shelamim offering, he may partake of the meat for the remainder of
that day and through the following day (7:16).
The Torah introduces this rule in the context of its discussion of the
korban toda (thanksgiving offering), which has the status of a shelamim
offering but differs from other shelamim in that it must be eaten only that day
and night, not the following day.
The
Torah formulates the general rule concerning shelamim sacrifices as follows:
"If the sacrifice he offers is a votive or freewill offering [as opposed
to a korban toda], it shall be eaten on the day that he offers his sacrifice,
and what is left of it shall be eaten on the morrow." The Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (as
understood by Rashi) asserts that the word "im" ("if") in
the phrase, "Im neder o nedava" ("If… a votive or freewill
offering") is superfluous, and must therefore come to allude to an
additional offering to which this halakha applies. It therefore claims that this halakha,
permitting the consumption of a shelamim for two days, applies as well to
"chagigat yud-dalet" – the chagiga ("celebration") offering
brought together with the korban pesach on Pesach eve. Unlike the korban pesach
itself, which may be eaten only that night, the accompanying chagiga may be
eaten through the following day, as well.
This position in the Gemara runs in opposition to the minority view of
Ben Teima (recorded in Pesachim, 70a), which equates the korban pesach and the accompanying korban chagiga. According to Ben Teima, just as one may not
eat the meat of the korban pesach after the night of
Pesach, so may the accompanying korban chagiga be eaten only that night.
The
Gemara there notes that the halakha derived from this verse, permitting the
consumption of this korban chagiga for two days, will affect our reading of a
different verse, in Parashat Re'ei.
There, in the context of the laws of korban pesach,
the Torah writes, "none of the flesh of what you slaughter on the evening
of the first day shall be left until morning" (Devarim 16:4). It appears from the simple reading of this
verse that it refers to the korban pesach itself and
forbids leaving over any of its meat past dawn.
The Gemara, however, explains that "until morning" refers not
to the morning of the 15th of Nissan – the first day of Pesach, but
rather the morning after that – the morning of the 16th. This verse discusses not the korban pesach, but rather the accompanying korban chagiga, and
permits partaking of its meat even past dawn on Pesach morning, throughout the
first day of Pesach.
Returning
to Parashat Tzav, the preceding verse establishes (as we mentioned) that a
korban toda, unlike other shelamim offerings, may be eaten only the remainder
of that day and that night. The Gemara
in Masekhet Zevachim (36a) notes that the verse employs a seemingly peculiar
phrase in referring to the korban toda: "zevach todat shelamav." For some reason, the Torah here emphasizes
the fact that a korban toda classifies as a shelamim. It seems awfully strange that the Torah would
place such emphasis on the toda's status as a shelamim specifically in a verse
that establishes the toda's distinction from regular korbanot shelamim. The Gemara therefore explains that the word
"shelamav" in this verse indicates that other types of korbanot
shelamim also feature this irregular characteristic, that they may be eaten for
only that day and that night. One of the
korbanot mentioned by the Gemara is "shalmei pesach." What does "shalmei pesach"
mean? Rashi, in his commentary there in
Masekhet Zevachim, explains that this refers to the korban chagiga brought with
the korban pesach.
It thus turns out that according to this Gemara – as opposed to the
aforementioned Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim – the chagiga accompanying the
korban pesach resembles the korban pesach, and may be eaten only that day and
that night.
At
first glance, we might immediately associate this Gemara, as understood by
Rashi, with the position of Ben Teima mentioned earlier. In other words, according to Rashi, the
Gemara in Zevachim which forbids eating the chagiga after dawn on Pesach
morning, follows the view of Ben Teima, who holds that the halakhot of the
korban pesach apply to its accompanying chagiga, as well.
However,
as Tosefot contend in Masekhet Pesachim (71b), it is difficult to explain the
aforementioned Gemara in Zevachim as following Ben Teima's position. For as we noted, Ben Teima's view forbidding
eating the chagiga after daybreak Pesach morning is but one application of a
much broader theory. Ben Teima believes
that Halakha equates the laws of the korban pesach and
those of its accompanying chagiga. As a
result of this equation, the time limitation on the consumption of the korban pesach applies to the korban chagiga, as well. But according to Rashi's reading of the
Gemara in Zevachim, the Gemara derives this specific halakha restricting the
consumption of the chagiga to one night from a verse in Parashat Tzav. This is not Ben Teima. Ben Teima has no need for a particular limud
(extrapolation) to forbid eating the chagiga after dawn Pesach morning, for
this evolves naturally from the general theory he espoused.
Tosefot
therefore explain the Gemara in Zevachim differently. "Shalmei pesach" refers not to the
chagiga, as Rashi explains, but rather to "motar ha-pesach," meaning,
animals that were consecrated for use as a pesach offerings but for one reason
or another were not offered for the korban pesach. Halakha requires that these animals be
offered as korbanot shelamim. According
to Tosefot, the Gemara in Zevachim establishes that the meat of these shelamim
offerings, unlike standard shelamim offerings, may be eaten only until dawn of
the following day.
How
might we explain Rashi's understanding of the Gemara in Zevachim? Which position does it follow? It can't follow Ben Teima, for it requires a
specific limud to extract the prohibition against eating the chagiga past dawn
Pesach morning, and it most certainly can't follow the majority position, which
allows eating the meat of the chagiga the following day, as well. Indeed, Rashi's explanation appears difficult
to explain, and iy"H tomorrow we will discuss his view further.
David Silverberg
*****
Yesterday,
we began discussing the debate recorded in the Gemara (Pesachim 69b-70a)
between the Chakhamim and Ben Teima concerning the sacrifice known as
"chagigat yud dalet" – the chagiga (or "celebration")
offering brought together with the korban pesach on the 14th day of
Nissan. According to the majority view
of the Chakhamim, this chagiga offering, like most korbanot shelamim
("peace offerings"), may be eaten for the remainder of that day and
through the following day. Ben Teima, by
contrast, maintains that this chagiga shares the same halakhic properties as
the korban pesach it accompanies. As such, the time frame allotted for its
consumption is the same as that of the korban pesach,
and thus this korban, like the korban pesach, may be eaten only during the
night of Pesach, and not the following day.
Towards
the end of yesterday's discussion, we noted the comment of the Gemara in
Masekhet Zevachim (36a), commenting on a verse in Parashat Tzav regarding the
korban toda (thanksgiving offering). The
Torah (7:15) asserts that whereas most shelamim offerings may be eaten for two
days, the toda, which generally falls under the category of korbanot shelamim,
must be eaten by the morning after its offering. Based on the peculiar wording in this verse
("zevach todat shelamav"), the Gemara establishes that a number of
other shelamim offerings also feature this peculiarity, among them
"shalmei pesach." Rashi, as we saw, interprets this term as a
reference to the chagiga accompanying the korban pesach. In other words, according to this Gemara in
Zevachim, this chagiga may be eaten only until the following morning. Though instinctively we might claim that this
Gemara follows the view of Ben Teima, this is not the case. Ben Teima holds that in all respects, the
korban pesach and its accompanying chagiga are
halakhically equivalent, and for this reason the chagiga may not be eaten after
dawn on Pesach morning. But according to
Rashi's reading of the Gemara in Zevachim, the Gemara deduces this halakha from
the wording of a verse in Parashat Tzav.
It thus turns out, seemingly, that the Gemara follows neither Ben Teima
nor the Chakhamim!
One
possible explanation for Rashi emerges from the Tosefta in Masekhet Pesachim
(5:3), which introduces a middle position, in between those of Ben Teima and
the Chakhamim. The Tosefta rules that
any food that was served together with the korban pesach,
including meat of the korban chagiga, must be burned together with the meat of
the korban pesach at the end of the night.
According to this position, intrinsically, the korban chagiga may be
eaten throughout the following day, as well.
However, a separate halakha requires that no food served together with
the korban pesach may be leftover after dawn, so as to
avoid confusion. Due to the concern that
some meat of the korban pesach might be mistaken for
meat of the chagiga, Chazal required destroying in the morning all meat – and
in fact all food – served on the table together with the korban pesach. This halakha is codified by the Rambam (Hilkhot
Korban Pesach 10:14). Now the Meiri, in
his commentary to Masekhet Chagiga (7b), cites those who interpret the
aforementioned berayta in Masekhet Zevachim in a similar vein. According to this approach, the berayta cited
in Masekhet Zevachim, which Rashi interprets as limiting the consumption of the
chagiga until Pesach morning, establishes this halakha as a precautionary
measure. One may not eat the korban
chagiga after the morning of the 15th only due to the concern that
one may eat at that point meat of the korban pesach
misidentified as meat of the korban chagiga.
The Meiri suggests that those who espouse this reading of the berayta
maintain that its reading of the verse in Parashat Tzav constitutes an
"asmakhta" – a subtle allusion in the verse, rather than its primary
reading. In other words, the prohibition
against partaking of the chagiga after dawn is not a Torah prohibition, but
rather a rabbinic ordinance to which Chazal found a subtle allusion in the
Biblical text.
Perhaps
this is how Rashi understood the Gemara in Zevachim. Fundamentally, the Gemara follows the view of
the Chakhamim, that eating of the korban chagiga may continue throughout the
first day of Pesach. But the berayta
cited in this Gemara maintains – similar to the Tosefta in Pesachim – that Chazal
forbade eating the meat of the chagiga after dawn out of concern for
confusion. The berayta does not actually
extract this halakha from the verse in Parashat Tzav, but rather invokes this
reading as an "asmakhta." We
might even claim that the Chakhamim would agree with this berayta. They perhaps argue with Ben Teima only on the
level of Torah law, while agreeing that as a practical matter, the korban
chagiga may not be partaken of after dawn.
In
truth, however, it is difficult to ascribe this approach to Rashi, in light of
his commentary to the Chumash.
Commenting on the verse cited by the Gemara in Zevachim, Rashi adopts
the Gemara's reading as his understanding of the verse (and here, too, he
interprets "shalmei pesach" to mean the
accompanying chagiga). Now if, we as we
suggested, Rashi understood the Gemara's extrapolation of this halakha from the
verse as an "asmakhta," as a secondary reading which the Torah likely
never intended (a famous debate exists as to what "asmakhta" really
means), it is hard to imagine that he would adopt this reading as his
interpretation of the verse. Much has
been and will be written regarding what Rashi means when he writes in several
places in his commentary that he follows only the "peshat"
(straightforward) reading, rather than the Midrashic reading. But in any event, it seems very unlikely that
he would invoke an "asmakhta" reading of the Gemara as his primary
interpretation of the verse in his commentary.
Therefore, if Rashi includes in his commentary to Parashat Tzav the
Gemara's reading of this verse, he presumably understood the Gemara as in fact
deriving a Torah prohibition from this verse.
According to this Gemara, then, this verse introduces the prohibition
against partaking of the korban chagiga past dawn.
It
would appear, therefore, that we have no choice but to explain that Rashi
viewed this Gemara as presenting a third view.
Unlike the Chakhamim, this view forbids partaking of the chagiga after
the night of Pesach. But unlike Ben
Teima, this view does not draw a halakhic equation between the korban pesach and its accompanying chagiga. Rather, a separate halakha derived from the
phrase "zevach todat shelamav" in Parashat Tzav introduces this
prohibition.
David Silverberg
*****
The
Torah in Parshiyot Vayikra and Tzav describes the various categories of
korbanot, including both mandatory korbanot (those required under certain
circumstances), and voluntary offerings.
The two primary groups of voluntary offerings are ola
and shelamim. The korban ola was entirely burnt upon the altar, whereas the shelamim
is divided between the altar, the kohen and the ba'alim (person or persons who
bring(s) the offering).
Interestingly
enough, we find conflicting sources regarding the relationship between these
two types of korbanot. Rabbenu Bechayei,
in his commentary (to 6:2), claims that the korban ola
represents the highest stature among the korbanot. Instinctively, this is perhaps what we might
have expected. The korban ola, which one
offers entirely to God, retaining for himself no portion whatsoever, most
sharply captures the essence of korbanot – the symbolic giving of oneself to
the Almighty. Understandably, the korban
shelamim, from which the individual actually receives the lion's share (the
altar receives only the fats, and the kohen receives only the chest and right
leg), represents a lower level of "sacrifice."
Surprisingly,
however, the Zohar writes just the opposite.
The first verses of Sefer Iyov mention as an example of Iyov's piety the
fact that he would offer ola sacrifices to God to atone for his sons, in case
they entertained blasphemous thoughts.
(Chazal derive from this verse that the ola
offering atones for inappropriate thoughts – Vayikra Rabba, 7:3.) According to the Zohar, it was precisely for
this reason that the Satan was granted license to torment Iyov – because he
offered ola sacrifices, rather than shelamim
offerings. Why does the Zohar perceive
the korban shelamim as a greater form of service to God than the ola offering? The
Zohar cryptically explains, "He [Iyov] did not offer a sacrifice that
would include it, as would have been proper." "It" here refers to the Satan, or,
in Kabbalistic terminology, the "sitra achara" (literally,
"other force," the force of evil in the world).
In
the Zohar's view, the korban shelamim is of a higher spiritual quality than the
korban ola specifically because it includes
"it," it pacifies, as it were, the physical and base instincts of the
human being. Whereas the korban ola rises entirely to God and in no way enhances a person
physically, the shelamim brings a sense of peace and harmony between the
physical and spiritual.
This
comment of the Zohar brings to mind a famous passage in the Ramban's commentary
(Vayikra 16:8) regarding the "se'ir ha-mishtalei'ach" – the Yom
Kippur sin-offering which is sent away to the wilderness and cast off a
cliff. The Ramban writes that on Yom
Kippur, God instructs us to bring an offering to the "other force." Although, as the Ramban stresses, clearly we are
to perform this ritual strictly to obey God's will, His command in this regard
resembles a king's order to offer a gift to one of his officers. On Yom Kippur, two special sin-offerings were
brought – one whose blood is sprinkled in the kodesh ha-kodashim (innermost
sanctum of the Temple),
and the other sent to the wilderness.
These offerings represent the ongoing tension between the spiritual and
the sensual, our pursuit of holiness on the one hand, and on the other, our
instinctive drive for physical gratification (see Rav Hirsch's commentary to
Parashat Acharei-Mot). The Ramban likely means that we pacify, so-to-speak, the
"other force" – the force of physical instincts, so that we can then
focus our energies and attention onto the "kodesh ha-kodashim."
The
Zohar appears to take a similar approach with regard to the korban
shelamim. The greatness of the korban
shelamim lies in the balance it strikes between the physical and the spiritual. It is often easier to bring a korban ola, to
devote oneself entirely and exclusively to sanctity, denying oneself all forms
of physical gratification, than to bring a korban shelamim – to partake of the
physical world within the context of spirituality. In one sense, Rabbenu Bechayei is indeed
correct: the ola offering signifies a higher level,
for it involves total rejection of the physical and the mundane. Ultimately, however, it is the korban
shelamim that best represents the practical aspirations of a Torah Jew: to walk
along the fine line between indulgence and asceticism, gluttony and
self-denial, excess and deprivation.
(Based on an a devar Torah by
Professor Shalom Rosenberg)
David Silverberg
*****
The haftara reading for Shabbat Ha-gadol (the Shabbat
immediately preceding Pesach), taken from the very final chapter of the
Prophets (Malakhi 3), warns of the "great, awesome day of the Lord"
(3:23), or Day of Judgment (see 3:5).
The Almighty here famously promises that this otherwise frightening day
will be preceded by the arrival of Eliyahu the Prophet, whose job it will be to
prepare Benei Yisrael for judgment by inspiring them to perform teshuva:
"He shall return the hearts of parents with the hearts of children, and
the hearts of children with the hearts of parents, so that when I come, I do not
strike the whole land with utter destruction."
During
Eliyahu's original stay on earth, he was unable to attain this goal. Eliyahu lived during one of the darkest
periods in Am Yisrael's spiritual history, when Achav, king of the Northern Kingdom, married Izevel, princess of Tzidon,
thereby introducing the pagan worship of "ba'al" into the country and
effectively transforming it into a pagan state.
The prophet's initial reaction to the process he witnessed (or at least
the first reaction recorded in Tanakh) was to declare a drought, a three-year
period without a drop of rainfall (see Melakhim I 17:1). According to many, Eliyahu decreed the
drought of his own accord, and was not instructed to do so by God (for example,
see Rashi, Melakhim I 17:7; Bereishit Rabba, 33; Masekhet Sanhedrin 113a). Eliyahu felt unable to impact upon the pagan
people, and resorted to drastic, punitive measures. Later, after three years of devastation which
apparently triggered a process of repentance among the people (see Radak, Melakhim
I 18:1), Eliyahu succeeds in bringing much of the nation back to monotheism
through the miraculous spectacle at Mount Carmel (see Melakhim I, 18). When even the effect of this great miracle
proved short-lived, Eliyahu journeys into the wilderness and asks the Almighty
to take his life (Melakhim I 19:4).
Eliyahu despairs from fulfilling the role of prophet under such
circumstances, crying in frustration, "for the Israelites have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and put Your prophets
to the sword. I alone am left, and they
are out to take my life" (Melakhim I 19:10,14). In response, God orders Eliyahu to appoint
Elisha as prophet in his stead (Melakhim I 19:16). Elisha's approach will be far different from
Eliyahu's, as he will work together with the people, rather than against them,
and gradually inspire a return to monotheism.
In
our haftara, Malakhi foresees the day when Benei Yisrael will finally be ready
for Eliyahu. The centuries of exile and
oppression will gradually cleanse the Jewish people and prepare them for the
arrival of Eliyahu. Only once we are
prepared for him will he arrive to prepare us for the Day of Judgment.
Earlier,
we mentioned the haftara's final verse, which describes Eliyahu's role upon his
final return: "Ve-heishiv lev avot al banim ve-lev banim al
avotam." Literally translated, this
verse means, "He shall return the hearts of parents onto children, and the
hearts of children onto parents."
In our translation above, we followed the approach taken by several
commentators (see Ibn Ezra, Radak) who interpret "al"
("onto") in this verse to mean "with." In other words, Eliyahu will inspire both
parents and children to perform teshuva.
Rashi, citing "Rabbi Menachem" (probably referring to the
famous grammarian, Menachem Ben Saruk), explains differently, claiming that
Eliyahu will have fathers bring their children to teshuva, and have children
bring their parents to teshuva.
According
to either interpretation, the question arises as to the significance of the parent-child
relationship in this teshuva process.
Why must the prophet emphasize that this process will affect parents and
children together, or that it will involve the mutual impact of parents and
children?
Rav
Kook zt"l explained that "parents" and "children" in
this verse represent two streams that invariably exist among the nation in
every generation, each of which is potentially legitimate in its own right
(though in practice often crosses the line of legitimacy), but is constantly at
odds with the other. "Parents"
symbolizes the conservative trend, the stubborn insistence on maintaining norms
and traditions of the past and the resistance to change. "Parents," the older generation,
usually frown upon innovation and reform.
The "children," by contrast, seek to shake themselves free
from the chains of the past and promote new ideas, tread uncharted territory,
and introduce revolutionary theories. In
Rav Kook's thought, each approach has merit and plays an important role in the
spiritual development of the Jewish nation.
While we obviously must passionately preserve the ancient laws and
traditions of Sinai, we have always found ways to apply those ancient teachings
to our current setting. The
"children's" approach of creativity and ingenuity is to be
encouraged, so long as it serves to perpetuate the teachings of the
"parents," rather than oppose them.
When
Eliyahu Ha-navi arrives, Rav Kook writes, he will show us how, once and for
all, to unite and combine these two approaches.
Throughout Am Yisrael's history, the "children," the
innovators, have always sought to detach themselves from their heritage and
distort it, rather than find new ways and venues to preserve it, promote it,
and strengthen it. We therefore
anxiously await the arrival of Eliyahu, who will help us find that delicate
balance between preservation and innovation, and will reunite the
"parents" of Am Yisrael with their "children."
David Silverberg
*****
The
Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (108a) brings two views concerning the obligation
of heseiba (reclining). According to one
position, a person is required to recline while drinking the first two cups of
wine, for it is at this point of the seder when we
commemorate – or relive – the onset of freedom.
Appropriately, then, we must recline as a demonstration of freedom and
royalty specifically while drinking these two cups. The second position maintains that to the
contrary, we specifically should not recline until after the point where
freedom has been finally established.
Therefore, according to the second view, we must recline only while
drinking the final two cups, which we drink after the point of achieving our
freedom. In conclusion, the Gemara
comments that no final decision has been made on this matter, and we therefore
recline while drinking all four cups.
The
Rishonim raise the question of why the lack of a conclusive decision warrants
this stringency, of requiring heseiba for all four cups. Generally, when faced with an irresolvable
doubt concerning a chiyuv de-rabbanan (obligation instituted by Chazal), we
follow the lenient option. In this case,
then, we should be allowed to recline for either the first two or last two
cups. Why did Chazal impose this
stringency, given that reclining constitutes only a chiyuv de-rabbanan?
The
Ran discusses this issue and cites one answer from earlier sources. Very simply, this answer contends that since
reclining does not involve much effort and exertion, the Gemara felt it
appropriate to act stringently in this instance, despite the rule of safeik
de-rabbanan le-kula (that we may act leniently when faced with a doubt
concerning a rabbinic enactment).
The
Ran himself, however, suggests a different explanation. In his view, the rule of safeik de-rabbanan
le-kula does not apply in this case. At
first glance, if we would apply this principle here, the Gemara would require
reclining for either the first two or last two cups. But since it reached no definitive conclusion
on this matter, on what basis will it decide which two cups require
heseiba? As such, applying the rule of
safeik de-rabbanan le-kula would dictate that we should not perform heseiba at
all. For the moment we prepare to drink
any one of the four cups of wine, a question arises regarding the obligation of
heseiba. In each instance, therefore, we
should apply this principle and absolve ourselves from the obligation to
recline. Since this would do away with
the entire institution of heseiba, the Gemara did not apply to this case the
standard rule of safeik de-rabbanan le-kula.
Rabbi
Akiva Eiger, in his chiddushim, raises an objection to the Ran's explanation,
claiming that we can, indeed, apply the rule of safeik de-rabbanan le-kula in
this case without eliminating heseiba altogether. True, when drinking the first two cups of
wine, a doubt arises concerning the obligation of heseiba, and the safeik
de-rabbanan rule allows us to follow the lenient position. But once we conclude birkat ha-mazon and
prepare to drink the third cup of wine, we are now undoubtedly obligated to
perform heseiba. For if Halakha follows
the view that the final two cups require heseiba, then
obviously one must perform heseiba at this point. And even if the correct position is the one
requiring heseiba for the first two cups, once a person neglected to observe
the heseiba obligation for the first two cups, he must do so for the final
two. Thus, Rabbi Akiva Eiger contends,
the Ran's question remains: why didn't Chazal apply the safeik de-rabbanan
rule, which would exempt us from heseiba for the first two cups, while
obligating us to recline while drinking the final two?
The
Steipler Gaon zt"l, in his "Kehilat Yaakov" (Berakhot, 1),
suggests the following answer. (The
Steipler reads this approach into the Ran; for the sake of simplicity, we will
present it independent of the Ran's comments.)
A famous halakha that appears many times in the Talmud involves a
scenario of two parallel roads, one of which contains a source of tum'a (such
as a corpse). It is unknown, however,
along which of these two paths the tum'a source is located. If two people walk along the two roads – each
along a different road - and then want to know if utensils they touched
subsequently must be considered tamei, the halakha depends on how they pose the
question. If each person comes
independently seeking halakhic guidance, we may consider each of them tahor,
given the situation of doubt. If,
however, they come together for guidance, we must consider them both
tamei. Since we must determine the
statuses of both people simultaneously, and we have no basis at all to consider
one tahor instead of the other, we have no choice but to declare them both
tamei.
The
same rule, the Steipler claims, will apply in our situation. With the onset of Pesach eve, all mitzvot of
the seder take effect simultaneously. At that moment, a decision must be made
whether one must recline during the first two cups or during the last two. Since we have no reason to prefer one pair
over the other, we have no choice but to require reclining for the drinking of
all four cups, similar to the case of the two people who walked along the two
paths and come together for a simultaneous halakhic ruling.
David Silverberg
