Parashat Kedoshim presents the famous prohibition of lifnei iver lo titein mikhshol – "You shall not place a stumbling block before a blind man" (19:14).  The straightforward reading of this verse suggests that it forbids cruelly exploiting the handicap of a blind person and making him fall.  As Rashi comments, however, Chazal explained this law in reference to misleading somebody by suggesting unsound advice or assisting him in committing a transgression.  The Torah employs the image of a "blind man" to describe the condition of vulnerability in which all people find themselves in some form under certain circumstances.  People are often "blinded" by factors such as lack of knowledge or their own frailties.  Their peers bear the obligation of helping restore the handicapped individual's "vision" by providing the information or assistance he needs to follow the most beneficial course, rather than allowing him to "stumble" along his current route.

            A particularly striking example of lifnei iver appears in Masekhet Bava Metzia (75b), where the Gemara applies this principle to a case of lending money without witnesses.  A loan received in private, without the observation of witnesses, offers the borrower the tempting opportunity to easily deny the debt.  Since a court will not award money to a plaintiff in the absence of acceptable testimony, the borrower enjoys a legal advantage that might tempt him to falsely deny having borrowed the money.  Placing a person in such a position – where he might easily be tempted to sin – also constitutes lifnei iver.  The Gemara adds that even if the borrower is reputed to be a scrupulously pious Torah scholar, one should still lend only in the presence of witnesses, given the possibility that the scholar will forget about the loan due to his preoccupation with his studies.  This halakha is codified in the Shulchan Arukh (C.M. 70:1).

            This instance of lifnei iver underscores the sharp contrast between the straightforward reading of the verse and its interpretation according to the oral tradition.  According to the simple reading, the Torah speaks here of a cruel, sadistic prank pulled against the most vulnerable members of society.  In the case spoken of in the Gemara, an individual displays sincere generosity and sensitivity to his fellow in need, granting him both a loan and the respect and trust to do so without summoning witnesses.  His intentions are undoubtedly sincere and magnanimous; he seeks not to mislead the borrower or cause him to stumble, but rather to assist him and avoid the uneasiness and practical complications entailed in summoning witnesses or drawing a contract.

            This contrast between the peshat (straightforward reading) and derash (halakhic exegesis) interpretations of this verse perhaps serves to express – rather drastically – the notion that not every perceived act of kindness is necessarily kind.  In some situations, even a well-intentioned gesture can amount to cruelty, if it could potentially lead the "beneficiary" to commit grievous mistakes.  Even in the case of the magnanimous lender, his beneficence can have the same effect as a stumbling block placed directly in the path of a blind man; this gesture, too, has the potential of becoming an act of cruelty.

            The law of lifnei iver thus instructs that even when dealing kindly with one's fellow, he must carefully examine his course of action to determine whether it truly serves that person's best interests.  If it does not, then regardless of how sincerely one wishes to help, he is bidden to withdraw his offer of assistance, rather than offer assistance that will ultimately prove detrimental.

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            Parashat Kedoshim begins with the famous admonition, "Kedoshim tiheyu" – "You shall be holy."  Among the lesser-known interpretations of this command is that of Seforno, who explains it as requiring that we strive to emulate the Almighty by "observing the commandments written on the first tablet, the entire intention of which is specifically for eternal life…"  Seforno refers here to a theory he develops in his commentary to Sefer Shemot (20:11), claiming that observance of the first five of the Ten Commandments leads a person to eternal life.  Here, in Parashat Kedoshim, God instructs the people to strictly adhere to the principles of those five commandments by observing the mitzvot presented here, in this parasha, which are associated with those commandments.  In so doing, they will earn a share in the eternal world and thereby be "holy" in that they will then resemble the Almighty.

            Leaving aside Seforno's intriguing perspective on the first five commandments and the association he draws between those commandments and the mitzvot here in Parashat Kedoshim, it is noteworthy that he defines "kedoshim" in this context in terms of eternity.  In his view, the exhortation of kedoshim tiheyu is essentially a call to achieve eternity by clinging to that which is eternal – namely, mitzva observance.  It means that a person should focus his attention throughout his lifetime on those aspects of life which have eternal meaning and significance, rather than on those which are ephemeral and confined to physical life.

            Rav Mayer Twersky (http://torahweb.org/torah/2002/parsha/rtwe_kedoshim.html) noted that Seforno's understanding of kedoshim tiheyu may shed some light on this verse's final clause: "for I, the Lord your God, am holy."  One might wonder, at first glance, why the Torah hinges the obligation to be "holy" on the fact that "holiness" is characteristic of the Almighty Himself.  Elsewhere the Torah establishes a general obligation to follow God's example and emulate His attributes (see Rambam, Sefer Ha-mitzvot, asei 8).  Understandably, then, God's attribute of "holiness" requires us to strive for the obtainable aspects of this quality.  According to Seforno, however, we might perhaps explain that one would have questioned the human being's ability to relate in any way to eternity.  Since all earthly beings are by nature temporary, we might wonder how we can achieve kedusha – how we can become "eternal."

            The answer, as Rav Twersky explains, lies in the fact that the Almighty is "the Lord your God":

He exercises divine providence; He established a covenant with us.  He is involved with the world, with us.  Hashem's covenant with us – "for holy am I, Hashem your God" – attests to the fact that we are capable of cultivating holiness.  Hashem who is holy would only establish a covenant and intimately associate Himself with a holy nation.

Thus our verse…encapsulates a religious philosophy of man.  Lest one think that holiness is excluded from the mandate of imitatio dei, lest one think that only Hashem in His numinous transcendence can be holy, the Torah proclaims, "you shall be holy"….because "holy am I, Hashem your God" – i.e., my covenant with you attests to your capacity for holiness.

The fact that the eternal God relates to and associates with mankind demonstrates man's capacity for eternal existence, which he achieves by living a life focused upon the eternal values of Torah and mitzvot, rather than allowing himself to be trapped by the ephemeral aspects of earthly existence.

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            Parashat Kedoshim introduces the famous obligation of ve-ahavta le-rei'akha kamokha – "Love your fellow as yourself" (19:18).  The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (31a) tells the story of a non-Jew who approached Hillel and requested that he teach him the entire Torah "while I stand on one foot."  The gentile expressed interest in converting to Judaism, but on condition that he could be taught the Torah in a brief, succinct manner.  Hillel replied, "That which you find displeasing – do not do unto your fellow.  This is the entire Torah; the rest is its commentary – go study it."  Hillel thus taught that the requirement to treat others as one wishes to be treated constitutes the fundamental precept upon which the Torah is based, in the same spirit as Rabbi Akiva's famous declaration that this verse signifies the "kelal gadol ba-Torah" – "great principle of the Torah."

            The Maharsha, commenting on this account, questions why Hillel formulated his response only in terms of mistreating others – "That which you find displeasing – do not do unto your fellow."  Why, the Maharsha asks, did Hillel not also mention the converse rule – "That which you find pleasing – do unto your fellow"?  Seemingly, if the Torah demands "love your fellow as yourself," it means that one should not only refrain from treating others in a displeasing fashion, but also actively treat them in a beneficent manner, just as one would want others to treat him.

            The Maharsha answers, surprisingly enough, that "Love your fellow as yourself" in fact refers only to refraining from treating others inappropriately, and does not go as far as to include acts of kindness and benevolence.  He notes that the Torah introduces this command in the context of the prohibitions against bearing a grudge and exacting revenge, indicating that this command, too, relates to refraining from negative behavior, and not to performing acts of kindness.  Moreover, the Maharsha contends, it would be inaccurate to say that Halakha requires treating others with the same level of kindness as one would treat himself.  The Gemara in Masekhet Bava Metzia (62a) records the famous view of Rabbi Akiva regarding the case of two desert travelers with only one jug of water between them.  Rabbi Akiva maintains that if there is only enough water to sustain one of the two travelers, the jug's owner may keep the water for himself, because "your life takes precedence over your fellow's life."  Thus, the Maharsha claims, the obligation to love one's fellow as himself must be limited to refraining from treatment that one would himself find displeasing, and does not extend to actively treating others with the same level of concern that one wishes for himself.

            Rav Asher Zelig Weiss, in his Minchat Asher, takes issue with this theory proposed by the Maharsha.  For one thing, as Rav Weiss notes, a number of sources clearly point to an obligation to actively treat one's fellow as he would like to be treated.  Most notably, perhaps, the Rambam, in Hilkhot Avel (chapter 14), explicitly rules that acts of kindness such as visiting the ill and comforting mourners fall under the category of ve-ahavta le-rei'akha kamokha.  This view is adopted by the Sefer Ha-chinukh, as well (243).  Likewise, the Nimukei Yosef in Masekhet Sanhedrin (chapter 4) applies the rule of ve-ahavta le-rei'akh kamokha to require a knowledgeable physician to cure an ill patient.  And the Radbaz (responsa, vol. 1, 728) claims that this obligation would require a person to assist his fellow carrying a heavy load.

            As for the Maharsha's proof from Rabbi Akiva's ruling regarding the desert travelers, Rav Weiss notes that this ruling has no bearing on the parameters of the obligation to love one's fellow as himself.  Rabbi Akiva issued this halakha only with respect to the unique case where a decision must be made whose life to spare, and in this specific instance he rules that one must save himself before saving his fellow.  This ruling does not affect the broader principle of treating others with the same degree of kindness and sensitivity with which a person would himself wish to be treated.

            Rav Weiss therefore suggests other possible explanations for why Hillel mentioned only the point of avoiding mistreatment in his response to the prospective convert.  Firstly, the gentile requested that Hillel encapsulate the entire Torah in the most succinct terms possible, and thus Hillel perhaps limited himself to most minimum obligation implied by the command of ve-ahavta le-rei'akha kamokha.  We therefore cannot reach any conclusions regarding the actual parameters of this obligation from Hillel's response.  Furthermore, Rav Weiss speculates, Hillel was renowned for his extraordinary humility and simple, austere lifestyle, and we might assume that he harbored no expectations that others would go out of their way to treat him with kindness and benevolence.  From his perspective, then, the obligation "Love your fellow as yourself" relates only to refraining from mistreating others, rather than to actively performing acts of kindness and generosity.

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            Yesterday, we discussed the famous story told in Masekhet Shabbat (31a) of a prospective convert who approached Hillel and asked that the sage teach him the entire Torah "as he stood on one foot."  He was prepared to embrace Judaism and convert on the condition that he could be taught the entire Torah very briefly and succinctly.  Hillel accepted the challenge and replied by admonishing, "That which you find displeasing – do not do unto your fellow.  This is the entire Torah; the rest is its commentary – go study it."  Hillel essentially informed the man that the essence of the Torah lies in the verse in Parashat Kedoshim, "Love your fellow as yourself" (19:18).

            Before this gentile approached Hillel, the Gemara relates, he first came before Hillel's famous contemporary, Shammai.  Unlike Hillel, however, Shammai responded angrily to the man's request and dismissed it out of hand.  Acquiring Torah knowledge is a process that requires many years of diligent work, and certainly cannot be achieved "while standing on one foot."  Shammai thus deemed it impudent and irreverent to make such a request, and furiously sent the prospective convert away.

            The different responses between Hillel and Shammai to this man reflect their generally differing approaches, as the Gemara establishes before relating this incident, "One should always be gentle like Hillel and not a kapdan like Shammai."  The term kapdan denotes a strict, uncompromising attitude, which characterized Shammai's approach.  Hillel was prepared to embrace the prospective convert despite his unreasonable demand, and found a way to encapsulate the Torah's message in a single proverb.  Shammai, however, showed no tolerance for the man's foolish request and reacted with simple rejection.

            Interestingly enough, Shammai himself is the author of the famous exhortation in Pirkei Avot (1:15), "Hevei mekabel kol adam be-seiver panim yafot" – "Greet every person with a pleasant countenance."  Shammai – no less than Hillel or any other sage – emphasized the importance of cordiality, warmth and friendship in one's relations with other people.  "Every person," he taught, deserves a pleasant smile and warm greeting.  Necessarily, then, when the Gemara speaks of his quality of kapdanut, it refers not to an irritable personality, but rather to a certain educational philosophy.  He advocated unyielding, strict standards not in the context of casual, social relationships, but rather in the specific framework of Torah education.

            The Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yehuda Amital shlit"a, explained Shammai's educational approach as follows (as recorded by a student – see http://www.vbm-torah.org/archive/sichot/vayikra/30-66kedoshim.htm):

Shammai maintained that one who wishes to study Torah should seek out a teacher.  The teacher need not go about trying to convert or preach to the whole world.  A person who seeks to progress in his service of God and to learn Torah must himself make the effort; he should not wait for others to run after him and try to convince him.  When a person comes to study of his own accord, he should be accepted and extended the friendliest and most pleasant welcome possible – but he must take the first step…

It is for this reason that Shammai rejects the would-be convert who wants to study Torah while standing on one leg: a person who wants to learn Torah must make the effort; no one owes him any favors or shortcuts.

Shammai maintained that Torah must be taught warmly, pleasantly, and lovingly – but only to those who sincerely wished to study it and commit themselves to it.  He was not prepared to begin "marketing" Torah in an effort to "sell" it to those who are as yet uninterested.

            The Rosh Yeshiva added that although the Gemara instructs following Hillel's flexible approach, we must nevertheless recognize and appreciate the value of Shammai's position, particularly in today's mercantile environment:

People today expect everything to be handed to them on a silver platter; living in a consumer society, they think that the marketers have to chase after the consumers.  Yet Torah is not a commodity to be sold.  It is a precious gift that one has to seek out: "If you seek her as silver, and search for her as for hidden treasures, then shall you understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God" (Mishlei 2:4-5).

We cannot expect to "market" Torah to everybody who is willing to "buy" it for a small price, on condition that they can acquire it while "standing on one foot."  Even if in principle we are bidden to follow Hillel's approach, we must, at the same time, understand that Torah can ultimately be acquired only by those who are prepared to expend the time and effort needed to master it, and make the sacrifices necessary to observe it.

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            The Torah commands towards the beginning of Parashat Kedoshim, "Each person among you shall fear his mother and father, and observe My Shabbatot" (19:3).

            Rashi, based on Torat Kohanim, comments that the Torah juxtaposes these two commands – reverence towards parents and Shabbat observance – in order to indicate a limitation on the former.  Namely, if a parent requests or even instructs that a child desecrate the Shabbat, or perform any other forbidden act, the child must refuse the request despite the general obligation to respect and revere one's parents.

            Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda, suggests a different possible point of connection between these two commands.  Both respecting parents and observing Shabbat require – on some level – a positive, optimistic outlook on the world and life generally.  A person who looks positively upon life, who feels genuine joy and enthusiasm over the special opportunities that life affords him, will likely also feel a sense of gratitude to his parents.  He will respect, admire and revere them if for no other reason than the fact that it was they who brought him the precious gift of life.  Similarly, a positive feeling towards the world engenders a sense of appreciation towards the Almighty, who brought the world into existence.  This appreciation is expressed through the observance of Shabbat, which celebrates God's completion of the process of the world's creation.  But if one fails to appreciate the value of life and the opportunities it offers, if he focuses his mind only on the difficulties and hardships of life, he might resent his parents for bringing him life, and feel no gratitude to the Almighty for creating such a difficult world.  The Torah thus juxtaposes the commands of reverence for parents and observing Shabbat – both of which touch upon the fundamental concept of appreciating all that the world has to offer.

            Rav Ginsburg adds that this theme might also relate to the previous verse – the introduction to Parashat Kedoshim, which presents the famous command of "Kedoshim tiheyu" ("You shall be holy").  The Ramban, in a well-known passage in his Torah commentary, explains this command as referring to avoiding physical indulgence, even within the boundaries of what the Torah permits.  Living a life of "holiness," the Ramban explains, means setting limits on one's indulgence, focusing his time and energy on the pursuit of spiritual excellence, rather than the pursuit of physical pleasure.  Rav Ginsburg suggests that committing oneself to this ideal of kedoshim tiheyu helps ensure the positive outlook on the world described above.  A person whose primary aspiration is physical indulgence is unlikely to find inner peace and serenity, as he will always feel lacking and seek additional gratification.  If, however, a person lives in moderation and devotes himself to kedusha, he stands a better chance of achieving contentment and engendering a positive, enthusiastic feeling towards the world in which he lives.  Thus, the concept of kedoshim tiheyu forms the basis underlying the subsequent commands of Shabbat observance and respect for parents, in that it lays the groundwork for the upbeat, positive outlook expressed by these two commands.

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            Parashat Kedoshim presents the prohibition of "lo tokhelu al ha-dam" – literally, "Do not eat over blood" (19:26) – which the Sages interpreted as referring to a number of different laws.  One understanding of this verse, which appears in Masekhet Sanhedrin (63a), explains it to mean "lo tokhelu basar va-adayin dam ba-mizrak" – "Do not eat [sacrificial] meat while the blood is still in the basin."  The Torah here establishes a prohibition against partaking of sacrificial meat before the animal's blood has been sprinkled upon the altar.  Only after the zerikat ha-dam (blood sprinkling) ritual does the meat become permissible for consumption.

            A number of writers noted that this inference appears unnecessary, in light of a different verse later in the Torah.  The Gemara in Masekhet Makkot (17a) extracts this same halakha from the Torah's warning in Sefer Devarim (12:17), "You cannot eat in your gates…your voluntary offerings…"  According to the Gemara, the Torah here refers to sacrificial meat before its blood was sprinkled, and forbids partaking of the meat at this point.  The question thus arises as to why Chazal inferred the same halakha from two different Scriptural sources.

            The Meshekh Chokhma suggests that the two verses refer to two different periods.  In Sefer Devarim, the Torah discusses laws relevant to the Beit Ha-mikdash, the "site which the Lord your God shall choose" (see Devarim 12:5).  Clearly, then, the halakha established in Masekhet Makkot on the basis of the verse there in Devarim is said in reference to the period after Benei Yisrael's entry into the land.  Possibly, the Meshekh Chokhma suggests, the inference from "lo tokhelu al ha-dam" was intended specifically in reference to the period of Benei Yisrael's sojourn in the wilderness.  The reason why the Torah would specify this halakha's application in the wilderness emerges from a comment of Rabbi Yishmael, recorded in Masekhet Chulin (16b), that Benei Yisrael did not eat ordinary meat during this period.  Before they entered Eretz Yisrael, Rabbi Yishmael maintains, they were permitted to eat meat only in the context of a sacrifice, and thus anytime they wished to eat meat they had to bring a sacrificial offering to the Mishkan.

            It thus emerges, the Meshekh Chokhma notes, that most of the individual sacrifices offered in the wilderness were brought with the primary intention to partake of the meat.  This is as opposed to sacrifices offered in Eretz Yisrael, which were brought primarily as an offering to the Almighty.  Since the animals offered in the wilderness were slaughtered with the primary intent of consumption, one may have thought that the Torah would allow partaking of the meat before the sprinkling of the blood.  As the consumption signifies the offering's primary purpose, it should perhaps precede the secondary purpose of placing its blood upon the altar.  The Torah therefore found it necessary to emphasize that even during Benei Yisrael's sojourn in the wilderness sacrificial meat became permissible for consumption only after zerikat ha-dam.

            The Meshekh Chokhma then proceeds to suggest a second explanation, namely, that the inference from the verse here in Parashat Kedoshim refers to the situation of a bama (private altar).  Before the construction of the permanent Beit Ha-mikdash, there were periods when Benei Yisrael were permitted to offer sacrifices upon private altars.  Sacrifices offered upon a bama do not require an officiating kohen, and certain procedures that normally apply to sacrificial offerings need not be followed in this context.  Hence, the Torah felt it necessary to repeat the prohibition to emphasize that it obtains even in the framework of a bama, even though certain other regulations do not apply.

            The Meshekh Chokhma proceeds to cite another approach, as well, which we will iy"H discuss tomorrow.

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            Yesterday, we presented the question raised by a number of writers concerning a verse in Parashat Kedoshim (19:26) in which the Torah commands, "Lo tokhelu al ha-dam" – literally, "Do not eat over the blood."  One interpretation of this verse, as mentioned in the Gemara (Sanhedrin 63a), explains that the Torah here forbids partaking of sacrificial meat before zerikat ha-dam – the sprinkling of the sacrifice's blood upon the altar.  As we saw, however, elsewhere, in Masekhet Makkot (17a), the Gemara infers this same prohibition from a different verse, in Sefer Devarim (12:17).

            The Meshekh Chokhma cites a theory in the name of his son-in-law, Rav Avraham Loftiver, who suggested that the verse in Parashat Kedoshim refers to eating sacrificial meat before shefikhat shirayim – "the spilling of the leftover blood."  After some of the blood of the sacrifice was sprinkled on the altar, the rest was poured from the basin onto the bottom of the altar.  Possibly, then, the two verses speak of partaking of the meat before these two stages.  From the verse in Sefer Devarim, the Gemara establishes that one may not eat the sacrificial meat before zerikat ha-dam – the sprinkling of the blood.  In Masekhet Sanhedrin, however, the Gemara interprets lo tokhelu al ha-dam to mean, "lo tokhelu basar va-adayin dam ba-mizrak" – "Do not eat [sacrificial] meat while the blood is still in the basin."  Here, the Gemara speaks of eating "while the blood is still in the basin," which might mean even after the blood was sprinkled.  Even at this point, one may not partake of the sacrificial meat, as the meat becomes permissible only once the remaining blood in the basin is poured along the bottom of the altar.  This approach is also taken by the Mitzpeh Eitan commentary (in Masekhet Sanhedrin).

            This theory, that sacrificial meat may not be eaten before shefikhat shirayim, may perhaps be proven from a comment in Masekhet Zevachim (13a).  The Gemara there addresses the halakha of pigul, the forbidden status of a sacrifice which was prepared with the wrong intention.  If the kohen performed one of the sacrificial rituals with the intention that its meat would be eaten beyond the prescribed time-frame, his intention disqualifies the sacrifice, and one may not partake of its meat.  The Gemara cites a berayta which seeks to determine precisely which stages of the sacrificial process are included in this halakha, meaning, at which points during the procedure this intention can disqualify a korban.  The berayta establishes the rule that a sacrifice becomes pigul if the kohen has this improper intention while performing any ritual ha-meivi li-dei akhila – which is necessary to render the sacrificial meat permissible for consumption.  Then, after presenting this principle, the berayta mentions a number of exceptions to this rule, including shefikhat shirayim.  Even though the pouring of the leftover blood falls under the category of davar ha-meivi li-dei akhila, improper intent on the part of the kohen during this ritual does not render the sacrifice pigul.

            As a number of writers noted (see Sefat Emet in Zevachim, and Rinat Yitzchak in Parashat Kedoshim), the Gemara here explicitly speaks of shefikhat shirayim as a procedure that must be performed to allow for the consumption of the sacrificial meat.  It thus appears, as the Meshekh Chokhma claimed, that it is forbidden to eat the sacrificial meat even after the sprinkling of the blood, until after the leftover blood has been poured onto the bottom of the altar.

            It should be noted, however, that the Rambam, in Hilkhot Ma'aseh Ha-korbanot (11:4), codifies only a prohibition against partaking of the meat before the sprinkling of the blood.  Furthermore (as noted by the Rinat Yitzchak), Rashi, in his commentary to Parashat Kedoshim, likewise speaks specifically in terms of eating the meat before zerikat ha-dam.  That Rashi spoke in these terms even in the context of this verse in Kedoshim clearly indicates that he did not subscribe to the theory proposed by the Meshekh Chokhma, that here the Torah introduces a prohibition against eating the meat before shefikhat shirayim.