The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

Search  

logo
The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash
The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion


 

PARASHAT EMOR

 

By Rav David Silverberg

 

            Parashat Emor begins with the prohibition of tum'at kohanim, forbidding a kohen to come in contact with a human corpse.  Twice in his critique of the Rambam's Mishneh Torah, the Ra'avad (Hilkhot Nezirut 5:15, Hilkhot Avel 3:7) expresses his view that this prohibition does not apply to a kohen who has already contracted tum'at met (ritual impurity through contact with a human corpse).  In his view, kohanim nowadays, who, like all Jews, are assumed to have come in contact at some point with tum'at met, may come in contact with human corpses, since the Torah does not forbid a kohen to come in contact with tum'a if he is already tamei.  Only once the kohen divests himself of this status, through the ritual of the para aduma, does he again become subject to the prohibition of tum'at kohanim.

 

            The Mishneh Le-Melekh (Hilkhot Avel 3:1) describes the Ra'avad's position as a shitat yachid, a view unique to the Ra'avad, not held by mainstream Halakha.  However, as the Chatam Sofer already noted (responsa, Y.D. 339), this view in fact appears in the writings of a number of other Rishonim, including Rabbenu Tam (cited by the Rosh, Hilkhot Tum'a, chapter 6) and the Behag (as noted by the Shiltei Giborim to the Rif, Hilkhot Tum'a, 4).  And the Avnei Neizer (Y.D. 2:466,470) observes that this position is expressed as well in the Semag.

 

            Of course, conventional practice does not follow the Ra'avad's position, and kohanim today must, indeed, avoid coming in contact with human corpses.  Nevertheless, the poskim discuss the question of whether the Ra'avad's position can be introduced as a senif le-hakel, as a factor to take into consideration in questionable situations.  Meaning, in situations where, for whatever reason, it is unclear whether the prohibition of tum'at kohanim would apply, we may perhaps take into account the Ra'avad's position to yield a sefeik sefeika – a case of two points of uncertainty, which would allow us to rule leniently.

 

            The Dagul Mei-revava (Y.D. 372) initially raises such a possibility, of invoking the Ra'avad's leniency in conjunction with other factors.  But he then dismisses this notion, arguing that even the Ra'avad acknowledges a Torah prohibition for a kohen to expose himself to tum'at met despite his preexisting state of tum'a.  The Dagul Mei-revava understood the Ra'avad to mean only that the court does not administer corporal punishment to a kohen who comes in contact with tum'a if he had already been in a state of impurity.  The Torah prohibition, however, applies even to a kohen already in a state of tum'a.  The Chatam Sofer (responsa, Y.D. 336) tells that he was present during a conversation between his mentor, Rav Natan Adler, and Rav Yechezkel Landau (author of the Dagul Mei-revava), where Rav Adler proved to Rav Landau that the Torah prohibition applies even after a kohen had become tamei, and even according to the Ra'avad.

 

            Other Acharonim, however, understood the Ra'avad to mean that if a kohen is already tamei, no prohibition obtains at all.  Rabbi Akiva Eiger demonstrates this understanding of the Ra'avad in one of his responsa (Mahadura Tanina, 18), and this is the clear implication of the Mishneh Le-Melekh, in the passage referred to above.  Furthermore, the work Shulchan Gavoha documents that kohanim in Jerusalem, when bringing a deceased relative to burial, would enter the graveyard, rather than standing outside and burying the deceased along the edge of the cemetery, as the Shulchan Arukh requires (Y.D. 373:7).  The practice of these kohanim is based upon the Ra'avad's position, that once in any event they become tamei by tending to the burial needs of their relative, they may then expose themselves to tum'at met without concern.  Clearly, this view works off the assumption that the Ra'avad held that no prohibition applies at all to a kohen that is already in a state of ritual impurity.  According to this view, then, a halakhic decisor may, indeed, take the Ra'avad's position into account to yield a lenient ruling in situations where other sefeikot (halakhic uncertainties) arise.

 

            The specific case addressed by the Dagul Mei-revava is a kohen's passage through a cemetery where only gentiles are buried.  The Rishonim and later authorities debate the question of whether one contracts tum'a from a gentile corpse by walking over it, as is the case with Jewish corpses, or only through direct contact.  The Dagul Mei-revava writes that according to the Mishneh Le-melekh's understanding of the Ra'avad, we should permit kohanim nowadays to walk through gentile cemeteries, given that two halakhic uncertainties are involved: whether or not the prohibition of tum'at kohanim applies to kohanim nowadays, and whether or not one becomes tamei by walking through a gentile cemetery.  It should be noted that both the Shulchan Arukh and the Rama rule stringently on this particular issue.

 

(Based on Rav Asher Zelig Weiss' Minchat Asher, Parashat Emor)

 

******

 

            Parashat Emor, as we discussed yesterday, begins with the laws regarding tum'at kohanim, the prohibition for a kohen to come in contact with a human corpse.  The Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 26:6) comments regarding this prohibition, "Because of the fear that Aharon experienced before the Almighty, he was rewarded and given this section [of tum'at kohanim], which does not leave him or his descendants…"  To what unique quality of "fear" does the Midrash refer, and why is the prohibition of tum'at kohanim a suitable reward?  Furthermore, why does the Midrash emphasize that this prohibition remains in effect for all time – "which does not leave him or his descendants"?

 

            Rav Dov Weinberger, in his Shemen Ha-tov, suggests that the Midrash refers to Aharon's sense of awe and reverence even when he did not serve before God in the Mishkan.  One of the potential dangers of the Mishkan, the representation of the Almighty's presence among Benei Yisrael, is that those who minister in and frequent the site may mistakenly conclude that His presence is limited to that site.  The majesty and awe of the Beit Ha-mikdash is intended to inspire the individual with an awareness of God's presence in every location and every moment.  There is the risk, however, particularly for the kohen gadol, who ministers in the Temple each day, that he may grow so accustomed to this sense of the divine presence in the Mishkan that he will not experience this awareness outside the sacred precinct.

 

            The Midrash here perhaps applauds Aharon for carrying with him this sense of awe and fear in every area of his life, even outside the framework of his service in the Temple.  Appropriately, he was rewarded with the mitzva of tum'at kohanim, which applies for all time, even in the absence of the Beit Ha-mikdash.  The basic concept underlying this prohibition is that the kohanim, who serve before God in the Temple, must avoid contact with tum'a, which (for whatever reason) is symbolic of spiritual defilement.  The fact that this prohibition remains in force even after the Temple's destruction is testament to the fact that Aharon had successfully lived up to the ideal of the Mikdash – sensing the divine presence in every location and in every situation.  The Torah therefore instructed that the kohanim avoid contact with tum'a even after the Temple's destruction, since they, as the descendants of Aharon, represent the ideal of seeing oneself as in the constant presence and service of the Almighty – even outside the Temple grounds.

 

*******

 

            The first section of Parashat Emor deals with the laws of tum'at kohanim, the prohibition for a kohen to contract tum'at met, the ritual impurity that results from direct contact with a human corpse.  Upon reading this section within the broader context of Sefer Vayikra, one must question why these laws appear here, in the latter section of Sefer Vayikra, rather than in the earlier chapters of this Book.  The first half of Sefer Vayikra, through the first section of Parashat Acharei-Mot, deal mainly with issues concerning the Temple, including both the sacrifices and the laws governing tum'a and tahara (ritual impurity and purity).  In the middle of Parashat Acharei-Mot, the Sefer moves onto laws that do not directly relate to the Beit Ha-mikdash, laws involving a wide range of areas including sexual morality, commercial integrity, and festival observance.  It seems, at least at first glance, that the Torah "transplanted" the section of tum'at kohanim from its more natural context – the section of Sefer Vayikra dealing with the priestly service in the Mikdash and ritual impurity – to the part of Sefer Vayikra that addresses a far broader range of activity.

 

            The Rosh Yeshiva, HaRav Aharon Lichtenstein shlit"a, suggested (see http://vbm-torah.org/archive/sichot/vayikra/31-62emor.htm) that the context in which this section is placed underscores the dual nature of the kohanim and their function within the nation.  The role of the kohanim is defined, on the one hand, by the service they perform in the Beit Ha-mikdash.  They serve as the nation's "emissaries" to the Almighty in the Temple, representing them before God.  Benei Yisrael tend to their fields and businesses throughout the Land of Israel, but retain their connection to God through the service of the kohanim, their representatives in the Mikdash.  But the concept of tum'at kohanim, the prohibition for a kohen to contract tum'at met, introduces a second dimension of the institution of the kehuna, the notion of a kohen's status of sanctity even outside the framework and precinct of the Temple.  This prohibition applies everywhere (and, as we discussed yesterday, even in the absence of the Beit Ha-mikdash), and in fact, very rarely would a kohen encounter tum'a while serving in the Mikdash.  This prohibition, then, presents for the first time the notion of kehuna unrelated to a kohen's ministering duties in the Temple.  A kohen retains his special status wherever he is, and not only while serving in the Beit Ha-mikdash.

 

            To emphasize this dichotomy, perhaps, the Torah specifically placed this section in the latter half of Sefer Vayikra, among the laws that apply to all members of Benei Yisrael, to emphasize that the kohanim retain their role and status even outside the Temple grounds, as they live among the rest of the people.

 

            Rav Lichtenstein extended this duality to the modern-day ben Torah, who is generally identified primarily by his avoda, his "service," within the four walls of the study hall in the yeshiva.  While this is undoubtedly true, a ben Torah must retain this status of distinction wherever he goes.  The responsibilities of a Torah Jew are not limited to his work in the beit midrash; they follow him in every area of his life, into which he must bring the values and mode of conduct that he represents.

 

*******

 

            Parashat Emor contains the section often referred to as parashat ha-mo'adim, the section dealing with the laws of the festivals.  Included in this discussion are the laws of the special sacrifices brought on Pesach and Shavuot – the korban ha-omer and korban shetei ha-lechem (23:9-22).  The Torah requires bringing an offering on the second day of Pesach from the very first grain harvest, and then another special offering seven weeks later, on the festival of Shavuot.  Interestingly, this section concludes with a verse that seems to bear little relevance to the particular context of these offerings: "And when you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap all the way to the edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor and the foreigner" (23:22).  How do these obligations of pei'a (leaving aside the corner of one's field) and leket (leaving the gleanings) relate to the specific context of Pesach and Shavuot?

 

            Torat Kohanim derives from this juxtaposition an equation between the fulfillment of one's obligations to the poor, and the offering of sacrifices.  On the basis of the Torah's association between these laws, Torat Kohanim establishes that one who leaves the required gifts for the poor is considered as if he has offered sacrifices upon the altar.  By contrast, a landowner who neglects his responsibilities to the poor is considered equivalent to somebody living in the time of the Temple who neglects to bring korbanot.  It appears that Torat Kohanim seeks to convey the notion that financial resources are like the Beit Ha-mikdash, as they provide the opportunity for closeness to God.  Just as the Temple provides the opportunity to offer sacrifices, so does wealth provide one the opportunity to draw nearer to God by assisting the needy.  Therefore, one who leaves the required portions of his field for the poor is equivalent to one who seizes the opportunity provided by the Beit Ha-mikdash for offering sacrifices to enhance his relationship to God.

 

            The commentators, however, suggest other reasons why the Torah makes mention of these obligations in this context.

 

            Ibn Ezra explains that the festivals of Pesach and Shavuot are observed during the harvest season, and the Torah therefore reminds us in this context of the laws pertaining to harvesting.

 

            The Ramban extends this notion a bit further, claiming that in this verse the Torah speaks specifically of the harvesting it had mentioned earlier – the harvest of grain for the korban ha-omer on Pesach.  This grain is harvested for the mitzva of bringing the korban ha-omer.  The Ramban thus explains that the Torah warns against harvesting all the grain of a field for this purpose, without leaving the required gifts to the poor.  The Torah reminds us that even when harvesting fulfills a mitzva, it must not come at the expense of the needy, who depend upon the pei'a and leket left behind by the landowners.  This verse thus conveys the critical message that the attention one pays to his ritualistic duties must never diminish from his sensitivity to the plight of the underprivileged.

 

            Finally, Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch explains that the concept underlying the mandatory gifts to the poor very closely relates to that of the korban ha-omer.  The Torah requires the offering of the nation's very first gleanings to God to express our awareness of His ultimate ownership over the land tilled by the farmers.  We are but serfs working on our lord's (or "Lord's") property, and we therefore bring the first produce to Him.  This same theme underlies the obligation of matenot aniyim (the gifts to the poor); since we are not the true owners over our land, we cannot lay exclusive claim to its produce.  We must rather share it with the rest of God's nation, as yet a further expression of our sense of dependence and submission to His authority.

 

******

 

            Parashat Emor concludes with the disturbing story of the megadef, the blasphemer, who publicly cursed the Almighty.  The Torah tells of God's instruction to Moshe that the megadef be stoned by the entire nation, and this section concludes, "Moshe spoke to Benei Yisrael, and they took the blasphemer outside the camp and they stoned him; and Benei Yisrael did as the Lord had commanded Moshe" (24:23).  Many commentators struggled to explain the final clause of this verse – "and Benei Yisrael did as the Lord had commanded Moshe."  Once we are told that they executed the blasphemer in accordance with God's decree, why must the Torah repeat that the people "did as the Lord had commanded Moshe"?

 

            Due to this question (presumably), Ibn Ezra explains this clause as referring to a different command – or series of commands – that God had issued to Moshe.  After informing Moshe of the punishment for the blasphemer, God digresses onto several seemingly unrelated laws concerning property and body damages (24:17-21).  Ibn Ezra therefore suggests that when the Torah tells of Benei Yisrael's compliance with God's commands to Moshe, it refers to these laws.  Besides carrying out God's harsh sentence concerning the megadef, Benei Yisrael also committed themselves to implementing the civil laws God had conveyed to Moshe at that time.  (Why God introduced these laws in this context is a question that deserves a separate discussion.  We will simply mention Ibn Ezra's explanation, that the megadef, before cursing God, had quarreled with another Jew, as the Torah tells, and they caused each other physical injury.  God therefore informed Moshe of the laws governing damages, in addition to the punishment for blasphemy.)

 

            The Ramban suggests a different explanation, that the Torah here emphasizes the absence of ulterior motives in the execution of the blasphemer.  Benei Yisrael carried out this gruesome task without any feelings of personal animosity towards the blasphemer, but rather with the pure motive of fulfilling God's command to eliminate the megadef.

 

            A particularly fascinating approach to this verse is taken by Rav Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, in his Meshekh Chokhma.  According to one view in the Midrash (cited by Rashi to 24:10), the megadef was driven to blasphemy by his refusal to accept the mitzva mentioned in the previous section, that of the lechem ha-panim (showbread).  The Torah requires placing fresh bread on the shulchan (table) in the Mishkan once a week, on Shabbat.  The blasphemer charged that this law that Moshe had taught the people infringes upon God's honor, as it requires leaving stale bread on the table.  Certainly, he argued, it would be more appropriate to put out fresh bread each day!  His rejection of this mitzva ultimately led him to blaspheme God.

 

            The Meshekh Chokhma suggests that in the parasha's closing sentence – "and Benei Yisrael did as the Lord had commanded Moshe" – the Torah informs us that this unfortunate incident had no impact upon Benei Yisrael's observance of the mitzva of lechem ha-panim.  Often, public objections and challenges to a religious idea have some effect.  Even if the objector is ultimately defeated, his protestations leave a mark and, to whatever extent, diminish from the public's conviction.  In this instance, the Meshekh Chokhma explains, Benei Yisrael remained firmly devoted to the laws taught to them by Moshe, and paid no heed whatsoever to the accusations of the megadef.  According to the Meshekh Chokhma, then, the clause "and Benei Yisrael did as the Lord had commanded Moshe" refers not to the execution of the blasphemer, but rather to the previously mentioned law of lechem ha-panim.  The blasphemer's cynical rejection of this mitzva did not detract from the respect and reverence with which they lovingly embraced this and all of God's laws, with unwavering belief in their divine origin and the inestimable value of the observance of each and every mitzva – regardless of the extent to which we can grasp its underlying rationale.

 

******

 

            Parashat Emor features the prohibition against slaughtering an animal and its young on the same day (22:28).  Most (or at least many) classical commentators understood this prohibition as intended to engender a sense of compassion within an individual.  The Torah issues a number of guidelines forbidding causing unnecessary trauma to animals, so that a person will develop within his persona the qualities of sensitivity and compassion.  This general theme is articulated most famously, perhaps, by the Ramban, in his discussion of the obligation of shilu'ach ha-kein – to send away a bird before taking its eggs (Devarim 22:6-7).

 

            Yosef Ibn Kaspi (as cited by Professor Nechama Leibowitz), in his commentary to the verses concerning shilu'ach ha-kein, develops the concept underlying these mitzvot in a slightly different direction.  In his view, these guidelines are intended primarily to engender a sense of humility within the individual, to remind him that he is but a part of the earth's natural order, that he is one of many of God's creatures, with a limited degree of control in His world.  As Ibn Kaspi demonstrates, the Torah demands that a person treat all the earth's creatures and elements with a degree of respect and concern, and the degree of respect and concern required depends on the given entity's classification with respect to human beings.  At the highest level, the Torah demands that one treat all human beings with care and respect, including one's foes and those who are beneath him on the social or even moral scale.  It is forbidden to cause unnecessary harm to any person, regardless of his ethical or religious stature.  At the next level, the Torah demands a degree of sensitivity in one's treatment of animals.  Of course, one need not treat animals with the same level of care demanded when dealing with other human beings.  The Torah allows killing certain animals for food and clothing, and using animals for transportation and difficult labor.  Still, laws such as shilu'ach ha-kein ensure a degree of sensitivity when dealing with animals.  Moving one rung lower, the Torah requires that care be taken even in our handling of plants, forbidding the unnecessary destruction of edible vegetation (Devarim 20:19).  Finally, a small degree of sensitivity is required even in our treatment of the earth itself, as we are bidden to let the land lie fallow once in seven years.

 

            The theme underlying this system, Ibn Kaspi contends, is the perspective that sees man as representing but one class – albeit the supreme class – within the natural order.  Had we been granted unlimited access to the animal kingdom and natural resources, an exaggerated sense of control and dominion would overtake us which could easily infringe upon our humble submission to God.  The Torah therefore imposed a system that sets limits on our control of the earth's resources, reminding us that we, too, are but creatures on God's earth, and we do not enjoy the degree of power and authority that we might otherwise feel.

 

******

 

            The final section of Parashat Emor tells the unfortunate story of the megadeif, the blasphemer, whom the Torah introduces as the son of an Egyptian man and Israelite woman.  The Torah tells, "The son of an Israelite woman – who was the son of an Egyptian man – went out among the Israelites… " (24:10).  Commenting on the words "be-tokh Benei Yisrael" ("among the Israelites"), Torat Kohanim says, "This teaches that he converted."  Meaning, the megadeif had converted into the Jewish faith before this episode.

 

            Several writers addressed the obvious question of why this individual would have required conversion.  After all, the Gemara establishes (in Yevamot 45a and elsewhere) that a child born from a union between a Jewish woman and gentile man has the status of a full-fledged Jew.  Why, then, does Torat Kohanim comment that the megadeif underwent the process of conversion to Judaism?

 

            Chizkuni answers by claiming that this halakha took effect only at the point of Matan Torah.  Until that point, a child emerging from a "mixed" union followed the status of the father; it was only with the giving of the Torah that children followed the mother's lineage in this respect.  Therefore, since the megadeif was born in Egypt, prior to Matan Torah, he was considered a gentile until his conversion.  A possible source for Chizkuni's theory (as the Ramban mentions) is the halakha that among gentiles, lineage is determined based solely upon one's father's status (Yevamot 78b).  It would stand to reason, then, that this was the case among Avraham's descendants, too, until the halakha that was established at the time of Matan Torah.

 

            The Ramban, however, rejects this theory, insisting that this rule of matrilineal descent applied already during Avraham's time, and therefore the megadeif was considered a Jew already from the moment of his birth in Egypt.  Interestingly, Rav Yehuda Rosannes (author of the Mishneh Le-melekh), in his Parashat Derakhim (1), hinges this debate between the Ramban and Chizkuni on the classic question regarding the halakhic status of the patriarchs and their descendants before Matan Torah.  The Ramban here expresses his view that from the time Avraham was designation by God, he and his chosen offspring were granted the formal, halakhic status of Benei Yisrael.  The Ramban therefore held that lineage followed the mother's status already from that point.  Chizkuni, by contrast, was of the opinion that the personal status of "Yisrael" took effect only at Matan Torah, and thus only then did matrilineal descent become the determining factor.

 

To explain the comment in Torat Kohanim, the Ramban first suggests that this comment represents the view of a shitat yachid (a minority position) that is not accepted by mainstream Halakha.  He then advances a novel interpretation of Torat Kohanim's comment, namely, that it refers to the "conversion" of Matan Torah.  Torat Kohanim emphasizes that this child, born to a Jewish mother and gentile father, had made the conscious decision to follow Benei Yisrael to Sinai and enter the covenant with God, which marked the entire nation's "conversion" to Judaism.  As the Ramban explains, this is how Torat Kohanim understood the expression, "among the Israelites": he joined Benei Yisrael, rather than identifying himself as an Egyptian.

 

The Ra'avad, in his commentary to Torat Kohanim, suggests that Torat Kohanim is speaking here of the megadeif's Egyptian father, rather than the megadeif himself.  We are told that at some point after his relationship with Shelomit Bat Divrei (the megadeif's Israelite mother), the father underwent conversion.  Needless to say, this is a very far-fetched reading of Torat Kohanim.  And, as noted by Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in his Torah commentary, an explanation is required for why Torat Kohanim would find it necessary to inform us of the father's conversion.

 

A number of writers, including Rav Hirsch, suggest that this comment in Torat Kohanim perhaps forms the basis of the view indicated by Rashi, in Masekhet Kiddushin (68b), that the child of a gentile man and Jewish woman has the status of a gentile until conversion.  Rashi there appears to explain the Gemara to mean that after conversion, the child may marry any Jew, and does not have the status of a mamzer, as opposed to the conventional reading, whereby he is deemed a Jew from birth.  (This appears to be the view of Tosefot, as well, to Kiddushin 75b; Maharsha, however, understands Tosefot differently.)  This comment in Torat Kohanim, that the megadeif required conversion to become part of Benei Yisrael, perhaps provides a basis for this position.

 

 
Copyright (c) 1997-2012 by Yeshivat Har Etzion. Please send comments or questions to: office@etzion.org.il