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Yeshivat Har Etzion


 

 

PARASHAT BEHAR

 

 

In Parashat Behar we are prohibited from taking interest (Vayikra 25:35-38). Rather, we are told, when "your brother" begins to fall you must "hold onto him" (Vayikra 25:35). This is one of the sources of the mitzva to give charity. The verse ends with the additional qualification that the declining individual "shall live with you". Both the term "to hold onto", and the stipulation "he shall live with you", are in need of clarification. They seem to imply something concerning the nature of charity.

 

In Torat Kohanim the sages interpret this verse in a manner that reveals matters of great importance to us, relating to widespread issues in modern society. The first peculiarity, the phrase, "you shall hold onto him", is understood as suggesting a continuous and persistent action. Even if it is necessary to uphold the declining person repeatedly, we are commanded to provide support again and again. The commandment to give charity is not a one-time action of giving another a chance. Often, one that falls financially once, does not succeed in rehabilitating himself at the first opportunity. It is not our business whether the other is to be blamed for his repeated decline; we have an obligation to support him. Perhaps the poor individual does not know how to use intelligently the money and support that he receives; this, however, does not discharge you of your responsibility.

 

There is one exception to this rule. Often the declining individual is not only unsuccessful in using the support he receives in order to extricate himself from his sad situation, he even uses it to fall farther. In such a situation, the good intended helping hand becomes a catalyst in the spiraling cycle of self-destruction. Our sages understood this verse to relate to such a situation also: "perhaps even if you are causing him to be lost to bad influence? Therefore it says: 'with you'."

 

The aim of your continuous and repeated support must be for the weak individual to "live with you". As elsewhere in the Torah, "with you" is understood to imply a closeness and identification. The care one gives must be aimed at rehabilitation; the goal must be for the poor to be integrated into society. While one must provide support even if this objective is not fulfilled successfully, one must ensure that it is not being undermined.

 

We are obligated to never leave the declining, but return almost illogically to support one that cannot untangle himself from his troubles. This must, however, never become an act of simplistic apathetic piety. One must ensure that the assistance does not become an added aspect of the individual's fall. Charity must be given with an almost illogical insistence, but this must be joined by a prudent concern.

 

Shlomo Dov Rosen

 

*****

 

Two people are lost in a desert. One has enough water to bring himself to safety. The other has nothing. However, if they share the water, neither will get enough and have the strength to escape the desert. Must the one that has the water sacrifice half to the other? This famous dilemma was decided by Rabbi Akiva (in Gemara Bava Metzia 62a) on the basis of a phrase in this week's Parasha (Torah reading).

 

Our obligation to give charity to the financially unstable is juxtaposed to the prohibition to take interest from them. Instead of taking interest, rather, "your brother shall live with you" (Vayikra 25:36). Rabbi Akiva understood from this continuation that responsibility for the life of the other comes after one's responsibility to ensure one's own safety. Your are obligated to ensure that "your brother shall live", but the responsibility is subordinate to the condition that it is "with you".

 

This does not apply only to questions of life and death. Rabbi Akiva interprets here a verse within the context of the requirement to give charity. In the Shulchan Aruch we find the ruling that one's responsibility to give charity comes after the requirement to assure one's own welfare (Yoreh Deah 251:3, in the Rama). The Biur HaGra (note 6) quotes the ruling of Rabbi Akiva (discussed above) as a source.

 

Yet, this precise wording appears elsewhere. Concerning the condition of a servant, the phrase appears: "for it is good for him with you" (Devarim 15:16). The Gemara (Kidushin 20a) deals with this verse in a similar manner:

"For it is good for him with you" - with you in food, and with you in drink. That it should not be that you eat clean bread, and he eats low quality bread, that you drink old wine, and he drinks new wine, etc… From here they said: "anyone who acquires a Jewish servant - it is as if he had acquired a master for himself".

Tosaphot adds, from a source in the Gemara Yerushalmi, that "it is as if he had acquired a master for himself" since the obligation upon him to ensure the good of his servant overrides his own right for pleasure. If the master has only one pillow, he must give it to his servant. Were he to sleep upon it and let his servant sleep without, he would have violated the Halacha. Here, the phrase "with you" is not understood as conditional, and secondary, to one's own pleasure. In the context of a servant's welfare, the requirement that you treat him well is a demand that surpasses equality. You must ensure his pleasure at the expense of your own.

 

These two rabbinical interpretations, on similar phrases, are seemingly contradictory. In the first, the phrase, "with you", was understood as a qualification. One must ensure the good of one's brother, but on the condition that it does not come at the expense of one's own welfare. In the second interpretation, the phrase, "for it is good for him with you", was understood as obligating an assurance of the servant's welfare even at the expense of one's own.

 

Technically, it is likely that the difference is due to the appearance of the subject, "good", in the second case. However, conceptually, we appreciate here a fundamental distinction, essential to our understanding of crucial issues in interpersonal relationships.

 

Generally, our responsibility to assure our own welfare precedes our obligation to provide for another. You are not obligated to give charity before your own needs are provided for. However, if one takes responsibility for another - if one employs someone else - the welfare of the dependant becomes a weightier consideration. By taking responsibility for another, or by entering upon a relationship of superior towards a dependant, you change the usual order of priority. You lose the privilege of personal precedence, and create a responsibility towards others beyond equality.

 

Shlomo Dov Rosen

 

*****

 

Parashat Bechukotai contains the first of the two tokhachot, the 'admonitions,' in which God warns of what will happen to us if we turn away from Him and His mitzvot (Vayikra 26:15-46). Towards the beginning, we are told that we shall fall before our enemies and that they shall rule us. We are then told that we shall flee; yet no one will be actually pursuing us (Vayikra 26:17). This is, presumably, a way of portraying utter terror. People are running away, yet, no enemy is present.

 

Rabbeinu Heschel of Krakow (circa 1595-1664) asks why the admonition relates that there is no one actually pursuing. Surely it is preferable to flee and not be pursued, than actually to be pursued! He answers this question by quoting a medrash in Parashat Emor (Vayikra Rabba 27:5), which teaches that God always seeks after one who is persecuted (the word"nirdaf" holds both meanings: pursued and persecuted). The argument is radical: "Even if a righteous man pursues a wicked man, nevertheless, 'God seeks after the pursued' (Koheleth 3:15)." God takes up the case of the persecuted, regardless of his own merit. Therefore, says Rabbeinu Heschel of Krakow, were we actually to have pursuers, God would have to come to our aid. However, since we would be fleeing without pursuers, we would not have hope of deliverance without merit.

 

Perhaps the logic is the following: God always comes to the aid of the persecuted. This means that whenever there is a rift between two people, God will take the side of the persecuted. It says something about how God intervenes in the world, and in history. But it does not mean that if someone brings upon himself a psychological obsession of being persecuted, he may hope to receive automatic attention from God.

 

This may be an important insight regarding various forms of suffering from anti-Semitism. Often, memories of persecution trigger a psychological state in which individuals, or communities, feel unstable, although, in reality, there is no danger present. It would seem that this verse relates to such a condition. Specifically then it may be especially hard to find God, and feel His closeness. No one is pursuing. There is no meaning to taking the side of the pursued individual, as, in reality, there is no chase.

 

Shlomo Dov Rosen

 

*****

 

In Parashat Behar we read: "I am the Lord your God, who took you out of the land of Egypt, in order to give you the land of Cana'an, to be for you a God." (Vayikra 25:38).  This verse seems to connect living in the land of Israel with the Lord being our God. Our Sages explain:

 

Our Rabbis learnt: One should always live in the land of Israel, even in a city which is mostly not Jewish; and one should not live in the Diaspora, even in a city which is mostly Jewish. For anyone who lives in the land of Israel is as one who has a God; and anyone who lives in the Diaspora is as one who has no God, as it says: "in order to give you the land of Cana'an, to be for you a God"…and similarly it says, concerning David, "For they have expelled me today from being a part of the estate of Lord, saying, 'Go and serve foreign gods'" (Samuel I 26:19). (Ketubot 110b)

 

The Rabbis understood that this verse teaches that where one lives affects his relationship with the Divine. Why should this be so?

 

The key to understanding this lies in the phrase, "is as (domeh) one who has/has no God." The Hebrew word "domeh" can be translated: "it is as if," "he may be compared to," or "he seems as if he is."

 

People do certain things in order to give a certain impression, and this is valid. People are defined, and define themselves, by external marks; and these, in turn, affect their character. This is part of the reason why Jews often try to live in neighborhoods which are predominantly Jewish. It is not only a question of religious practicality, but, to some extent, a formative step.

 

In this context, the Gemara teaches that living in Israel is to be preferred to living in a Jewish neighborhood in the Diaspora. A person who lives in Israel "is as one who has a God."  His choice of a place of residence creates an impression that he is a person of faith; and this affects not only how others view him, but also how he views himself.

 

Shlomo Dov Rosen

 

*****

 

Parashat Behar ends with a repetition of the prohibition to make idols (Vayikra 26:1). Various types of objects used for idol worship are mentioned. Among them are those that themselves are served. However, we are also prohibited from erecting a matzeva, a stone used as a signification of service. The matzeva was not actually served, and our forefathers used it in the service of Hashem. It was later forbidden because of the idolatrous use pagans made of it. We are then told not to bow down upon an even maskit, the meaning of which is unclear.

 

Rav Saadia Gaon explains that an even maskit is a stone that has been decorated. Presumably it was also served. If so, this is just another example of an idol. However, Onkelos translates it as a stone prepared for bowing upon, and Rashi says that what is meant is a stone covering of the ground. According to Rashi, we are forbidden to bow down upon a stone floor outside the Temple. Since no such prohibition exists in the Temple, we may understand that there is nothing actually wrong with it. The problem with this sort of worship would then seem to be in its being used by pagans, as we saw concerning the matzeva (which immediately precedes it in the verse).

 

In Gemara Megila 22b this prohibition is discussed concerning the prayer of Tachanun. Today, it is customary to lean over one's arm during the prayer, however, in the time of the Gemara, the worshiper would bow down fully during its recital. In this context we learn that bowing down on stone is permitted in the Temple. We also find out that certain Rabbis would lean on their side when they prostrated themselves outside of the Temple. Some authorities (e.g. Rambam and Rav Sherira Gaon) understood this behaviour as a way of solving the problem of bowing on stone. In leaning to the side they were no longer prostrated directly on the stone floor.

 

The Rambam discusses this prohibition in the same halacha in which he discusses the prohibition of erecting a matzeva (Hilchot Avoda Zara 6:6). He continues to explain that the reason why it is forbidden is because it was a form of pagan worship. If one, however, leans on the side, or covers the stone, one may prostrate oneself even on a stone floor in prayer to Hashem. This is in line with the Rambam's general philosophical claim, that various forms of behaviour are prohibited due to their being identified with ancient forms of paganism.

 

Many authorities do not accept this position of the Rambam. Rav Hai Gaon and the Or Zarua understood that the problem is not that it was a form of idolatry, but rather, that "it looks as if he is bowing to that which is before him". They, therefore, understood that it is insufficient to lean to the side. Their position seems in line with the interpretation that Rav Saadia Gaon gave for the term even maskit: a stone that has been decorated. The problem is not that one is doing that which was done by idolaters (as the Rambam held). Rather, there is a problem in the very act itself; it looks like idolatry. It is therefore insufficient to lean to the side; one must hold one's head above the floor so that it does not look like one is bowing to the stone.

 

Shlomo Dov Rosen

 

*****

 

Yesterday, we discussed the prohibition of prostration upon stone. We saw that some authorities understood that it is forbidden because it looks like one is bowing down to the stone. Others, such as the Rambam, understood that the prohibition is due to its use as a form of idol worship, but not that we are concerned that one gives the impression of performing idolatry. We saw also that this dispute affects the halacha regarding what constitutes the prohibited prostration. According to the Rambam, once one leans to the side, the act is permitted. The conflicting understanding holds that over a stone floor one may not let one's head touch the ground in any manner.

 

The Gemara discusses this issue in relation to the Tachanun prayer, which in those days was recited in a state of prostration. In order to ensure that one does not bow down directly upon a stone floor, the custom developed that one leans to the side even today, although we recite the prayer in a sitting position. Later authorities discuss whether one should lean to the right or to the left.

 

Rashi cites a tradition of his masters (see Tur and Bet Yosef, Orach Chaim 131) that one should fall to the right in consideration of the verse in The Song of Songs (2:6), "His left is below my head, and his right embraces me". Such a source may seem out of place in the context of this prayer. The Tachanun prayer is a confession and a supplication. It is said from a state of desperation, and seems to clash with the concept of extreme, almost romantic, closeness to the Divine.

 

Even more surprising is the rationale behind the conflicting opinion. The Shibalei Haleket records the tradition that one should lean to the left, since leaning on that side is a sign of freedom. He immediately explains this by saying that one should subdue oneself before God by leaning on that very side which generally shows freedom and pride. However, later authorities explain otherwise. They say that the Tachanun prayer is a time of forgiveness, and for that reason one should say it in a position which exhibits freedom (see Shaarei Teshuvah). Our present-day custom of leaning to the right when wearing Tefilin and to the left when not, while a Kabalistic code, may be a unification of these two positions.

 

We learn many things from this discussion of the correct posture for the recital of this prayer. The fact that it was originally said in a state of total prostration upon the ground shows that it is a prayer in which one pleads for forgiveness, and that a relationship with God in which one prays in such a state of subjugation is appropriate.

 

However, later generations changed the posture of the prayer to a sitting position. Even if this alteration was originally made out of concern for the prohibition of bowing down upon stone, the fact that such a prayer may also be said in this new position sheds light both upon the prayer and upon our relationship with the Divine. One pleads to God in a state of closeness. One's experience is of receiving comfort and feeling a Divine embrace. Furthermore, this process purifies and cleanses the human being. He may, therefore, expect forgiveness, and should see himself, while in the act of subjugation, in a state of freedom.

 

Shlomo Dov Rosen

 

*****

 

Twice, in Parashat Behar, we are told not to cheat. The first time (Vayikra 25:14) the verse explicitly defines a context of trade and business; yet the second mention (Vayikra 25:17) seems general. The Hebrew word used for cheating is "ona'a", a word which joins in its meaning the concept of swindling with the connotation of causing pain. Therefore, the Gemara, (Bava Metzia 58b) understands this second verse to relate to non-financial cheating and harassment. All forms of deception and abuse are prohibited in the same way that causing financial damage is forbidden. The Gemara claims that the former is actually worse than the latter, because it affects the actual person, whereas swindling affects only his money.

 

The classical example of what is forbidden by this mitzva is causing pain to another by hurting his feelings in recalling his past, even privately. The case brought by the Gemara is reminding a convert, or someone newly religious, of their past behaviour. However, any form of abuse is forbidden, even trickery that does not cause direct and immediate pain, such as giving misleading advice. Our Rabbis explain that the prohibition even includes not asking a merchant how much something costs, when in truth one has no interest in buying the article. The extent of this is extreme: one must not even eye merchandise when one does not have money.

 

The Gemara tells us that all sinners sent to hell are eventually redeemed, with the exception of three. One that commits adultery, one that shames another in public, and someone that makes up an abusive name for another. This teaching is hard to understand. While these undoubtedly are terrible violations, it is not clear why they should be singled out, and why specifically in this manner: that their transgressors remain in hell.

 

The key to understanding this idea presumably lies in the joint nature of these three sins. Adultery is an evil that lives on beyond the actual moment of the act. It violates a relationship, and causes a fissure, that may never heal. Because it relates to the psychological and most internal aspects of a person, it lives on. The evil of the sin is not only in the moment; it lies in the continually felt pain that may never heal, the violation of a relationship that may never be the same.

 

Shaming another in public, and coining an abusive name for someone, are similar to adultery in this sense. They cause lasting psychological pain. The public nature of the shame makes its effects hard to undo. Once someone has been branded with a name, it usually sticks. Therefore, we are told, these sins are different to others in that their transgressors never rise from hell. They are stuck in a continual damnation, because the pain they caused was continual and lasting.

 

This teaching urges us to realise that we are accountable for the results of our actions. A person is responsible for the effect that continues to echo in the world as a result of his behaviour. This is especially important regarding mitzvot that involve interaction between people. The psychological nature of such commandments makes their effects both emotionally pivotal and prolonged.

 

Shlomo Dov Rosen

 

 

 

 

 

 

To see this year's S.A.L.T. selections:

 

www.vbm-torah.org/salt.htm


 

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