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PARASHAT BECHUKOTAI
Rav David Silverberg
The opening section of Parashat Bechukotai describes the blessings God
promises to bestow upon Benei
Yisrael in reward for their
observance of the Torah. Among
these blessings we find the verse, "You shall eat very old [produce] that has
aged; and you shall take old [produce] instead of new produce" (26:10). The Torah here speaks of the material
abundance that Benei
Yisrael will enjoy, to the point
where the warehouses will still be filled when the time comes to store the newly
harvested produce. The people will
partake of grain many years after it was harvested, due to the overabundance of
produce. Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch
notes that this blessing relates to the immediately preceding verse, in which
God promises to increase Benei
Yisrael's numbers. Here, the Torah emphasizes that the
steady population growth will not result in shortages of food and other
resources, that the increase in human fertility will be accompanied by a
corresponding upsurge in agricultural production.
Rav Dov Weinberger, in his Shemen Ha-tov, comments that beyond the straightforward
reading of this verse, it might also allude to another vital component of God's
blessing. The consumption of
produce that had been harvested years earlier reflects not only an overabundance
of food, but also the people's ability to overcome the instinctive preference
for what is new and fresh. There is
a natural tendency to constantly anticipate new products, and to look
disdainfully upon the old. Not
always will people be willing to make use of the old grain in order to clear
space in the storehouse for the new produce. God's blessing to Benei Yisrael is not only that they will enjoy several
years' worth of surplus, but also that they will feel content making use of the
stored grain, rather than discarding it out of preference for the new
crop.
There can be no blessing without an ability to feel content with what one
has. If a person constantly yearns
for something new, he will never feel blessed. Thus, the blessings of Parashat
Bechukotai are incomplete without the promise of "va-akhaltem yashan noshan," that we will feel content and gratified
even with old produce, and not be plagued by the widespread obsession with the
new.
******
Towards the end of Parashat Bechukotai, the Torah introduces the
prohibition of temura, which forbids attempting to transfer the
halakhic status of kedusha from one animal to another. If a person consecrated an animal as a
sacrifice, it is forbidden for him to declare another animal as consecrated in
place of the original animal (27:10).
Similarly, after a person designates every tenth animal in his herd as
ma'aser beheima a "tithe" sacrifice, as the Torah
requires he may not then try to transfer this status onto a different animal
(27:33). In either instance, the
second animal obtains consecrated status, yet the original animal still retains
its status.
Rav Moshe Feinstein (Kol
Ram, vol. 1) suggested a possible
symbolic explanation for the reason underlying this prohibition. Namely, the Torah seeks to convey the
message that kedusha cannot be transferred from one person to a
next; no member of Am
Yisrael can absolve himself of the
obligation to strive for holiness by assigning this responsibility to
others. Just as a consecrated
animal retains its status even if it is shared with other animals, similarly, a
Jew must retain his commitment to the ideal of kedusha even if others are similarly devoted to this
ideal. The fact that people around
him already commit themselves to Torah and mitzvot does not grant him the right to excuse
himself from this responsibility.
(We should perhaps clarify that the concept
of pidyon kodashim, divesting a consecrated item of its status
of kedusha by transferring that status onto something
else, applies only to kodashei
bedek ha-bayit- objects that cannot be offered as a sacrifice. This status of kedusha relates merely to the object's having come
under the ownership of the
In this sense, we might add, the concept of
temura serves as a fitting conclusion to Sefer
Vayikra, which is often referred to as Torat Kohanim, the book that is in large measure devoted
to the laws involving the kohanim.
The Torah's designation of a priestly tribe, charged with the
responsibility of devoting themselves to serving the Almighty in the Mikdash, should not be misconstrued as excluding
the rest of the nation from the concept of kedusha.
The unique status of priesthood must not be perceived as temura, as transferring the responsibilities of
kedusha from the rest of the people onto the
kohanim.
As in the case of animal sacrifices, "both it and its substitute shall be
sacred." The entire nation, and not
merely the kohanim, must remain devoted to the ideal of
kedusha as presented in the Torah, and live their
lives in strict accordance with the restrictions and obligations associated with
their special status of sanctity.
******
Parashat Bechukotai opens with a description of the blessings God promises to bestow upon Benei Yisrael in reward for their faithful observance of the mitzvot. The first verse reads, "If you walk in accordance with My statutes and observe My commandments by performing them " The Torah then proceeds to outline the various blessings the people will earn for their obedience.
Rashi famously comments that this parasha's opening phrase "If you walk in
accordance with My statutes" actually refers to Torah study, rather than
mitzva observance. As the verse's subsequent clause "and
observe My commandments" clearly speaks of the observance of mitzvot, the first clause necessarily refers to
something else, which the Sages in Torat Kohanim identify as she-tiheyu ameilim ba-Torah "that you exert yourselves in
Torah."
Many different insights have been offered to explain the particular
significance of ameilut intensive engagement and exertion in
the context of this verse. One
possible approach is to associate this theme with the specific terms employed in
this phrase "Im be-chukotai
teileikhu" ("If you follow My
statutes"). For one thing, it is
noteworthy that the Torah in this phrase speaks specifically of chukim, a term that is traditionally understood as
a reference to those commands whose underlying rationale eludes human
comprehension. If Chazal understood this verse as describing
Benei Yisrael's "ameilut" concentrated efforts and hard work in
learning Torah then they likely saw some connection between the themes of
chukim and ameilut.
Perhaps, they sought to convey the message that toil and exertion in
Torah study is possible only when one unconditionally recognizes the value and
importance of learning, even when its value is not readily evident. The importance of in-depth study and
analysis of even the more esoteric and practically inapplicable areas of Torah
scholarship is, essentially, a chok, something that we cannot fully
comprehend. A student's willingness
to invest long hours and arduous efforts into mastering difficult areas of Torah
stems, to a large extent, from the same unconditional commitment that drives him
to observe chukim, those commandments whose reasoning cannot
be explained. And so ameilut the exertion of effort and hard work in
studying Torah closely relates to the theme of chukim.
We might also identify a close association between the notion of ameilut and the next word in this verse teileikhu ("follow"). This word, which is derived from the root h.l.kh. ("walk"), has a connotation of regularity and consistency, something that accompanies a person wherever he goes. Ameilut in Torah learning entails not merely exertion, but also a consistent routine. A person who recognizes the "chok" latent within the commandment to study, the significance ascribed to learning that we cannot fully comprehend, will display a greater commitment to "teileikhu" maintaining a consistent learning regimen throughout his life. This recognition will lead one to afford priority to talmud Torah over his other pursuits, such that his learning schedule will remain intact even when he is encumbered by other responsibilities. Thus, the term teileikhu sheds light on the concept of ameilut, which refers not only to hard work and effort, but also to consistently maintaining a regular schedule of Torah study.
(Based on an article by Rav Yaakov Neuberger
at http://torahweb.org/torah/2003/Parsha/rneu_bchukosai.html).
******
The final section of Parashat Bechukotai presents a series of laws
relevant to the area of hekdesh consecrating property to the
This verse, at least at first glance, determines than any human being declared "cherem" may not be ransomed, and should instead be put to death. The Gemara in Masekhet Arakhin (6b) records two approaches in explaining the context and implications of this verse. One view, which Rashi follows in his Torah commentary, explains that the Torah establishes here an exception to the concept of arakhin dealt with in the beginning of this section. Generally speaking, if a person makes a vow to donate to the Temple treasury the "value" of a certain person, he is bound to donate an amount based upon the representative "values" ascribed by the Torah to different groups of people, as outlined in this parasha. In this verse, the Torah makes an exception in the case of a vow made to donate the "value" of a person being led to execution for a capital crime. Such a person, Rashi explains, does not have "value" as far as the institution of arakhin is concerned, and hence the pledge is meaningless. According to this view, the verse should be read as follows: "Anyone condemned to death among men whose value is pledged need not be redeemed, for he will surely die."
Rabbi Yishmael, however, presents an entirely different reading of this verse, namely, that it comes to preclude the possibility of ransom in lieu of capital punishment. A convicted offender cannot be "redeemed" from execution through monetary payment, as the court is required to follow through with the sentence mandated by Torah law.
The obvious
question arises, of what relevance is this halakha to the context of arakhin and other forms of hekdesh pledges? Why does the Torah introduce in this
section a law pertaining to capital punishments?
Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in his
commentary to this verse (see also Ramban), explains that Rabbi Yishmael
interprets this verse as intended to dispel the notion that the possibility of
"redemption" applies to criminals just as it does to hekdesh. The Torah in this section describes the
procedure of pidyon, whereby a person reclaims a consecrated article from
the
Rav Hirsch proceeds to elaborate on this distinction between hekdesh articles, which are subject to pidyon, and violators of capital offenses, whom money cannot "redeem":
Decisions, which, such as hekdesh, emanate from the free-will of human beings exercised on objects, can, if need be, find a way to be altered or compromised with, but the decision of a judge is naught but the decision of God expressed through the mouth of man, which allows of no alteration, substitution of compromise.
The status of hekdesh is alterable because it was initially endowed by the declaration of a human being. The status of a person sentenced to capital punishment, by contrast, is declared by the court in their capacity as the "executors" of the divine will. A status prescribed by the Almighty cannot be erased through monetary payment; in Rav Hirsch's words, the law of God cannot be "altered, substituted or compromised," not even through a sizeable payment.
******
In the opening section of Parashat Bechukotai, God describes the blessings He promises to bestow upon Benei Yisrael in reward for their faithful obedience to the Torah. After promising the blessings of rainfall and agricultural prosperity, God then declares, "I shall grant peace in the land" (26:5). Rashi comments (based on Torat Kohanim), "Perhaps you will say, 'There is food and drink, but if there is no peace, there is nothing' the verse therefore states after all this, 'I shall grant peace in the land.' From here one learns that peace is equivalent to everything else." The blessings of material abundance are meaningless in the absence of peace ("if there is no peace, there is nothing"), and God therefore emphasized that He will bless His nation with both prosperity and peace.
At first glance, we might explain, very simply, that "peace" here refers to secure borders and peaceful relations with surrounding peoples. A nation cannot enjoy its wealth if it routinely finds itself at war or under the threat of enemy attack, and thus in this sense, "if there is no peace, there is nothing," the blessing of prosperity very much depends upon the blessing of peace.
The Ketav Sofer, however, explains differently, claiming that Rashi actually understood "peace" in this verse as a reference to internal peace, harmonious relations between members of Am Yisrael themselves (see also Ramban). Without peace and goodwill among Benei Yisrael, material success quickly becomes a curse, rather than a blessing. If people look to each other with enmity, suspicion and resentment, then the nation's resources and agricultural yield become the focus of bitter contention and rivalry. Every citizen and every sector will stubbornly and greedily insist on his right to the lion's share, and whatever wealth one person accumulates will cause others jealousy and grief. Prosperity is a blessing only when there is peace within the nation, when people feel genuine concern for others, and not only for themselves. When the citizens rejoice rather than fret over the success of their neighbors, when the wealth of their fellow townspeople brings them satisfaction, rather than envy, then abundance is a blessing for the entire nation. But without peace, in the absence of mutual feelings of love, concern and fraternity, the earth's bountiful produce causes only strife and conflict, which is hardly the blessing the Almighty wishes to bestow upon His nation in reward for their observance.
******
Parashat Bechukotai includes the section known as the tokhecha, the warning God issued to Benei Yisrael describing the catastrophes He will visit upon them should they disobey the Torah. Towards the beginning of this section God warns, "Ve-shavarti et ge'on uzekhem," which literally means, "I shall break the pride of your strength" (26:19).
Torat
Kohanim cites three different explanations of this verse. The first approach, which is the most
intuitive explanation and that which Rashi follows in his commentary, identifies
the "pride of your strength" as the Beit
Ha-mikdash. The second view is cited in the name of
Rabbi Akiva, who explained that this verse speaks of "the mighty ones [giborim] of
One might wonder why Rabbi Akiva chose to mention specifically Yoav as
the paradigm of the "giborim" of
Rav Reuven Margoliyot (as cited in Ke-motzei Shalal Rav) speculated that Rabbi Akiva here in fact
makes a veiled reference to another "mighty one of
Unfortunately, however, both generals exhibited unwarranted violence in
the pursuit of this goal. Yoav
assassinated two personal adversaries Avner and Amasa and Bar-Kokhba
brutally and impulsively executed one of the great sages of
Rabbi Akiva thus interpreted this verse as foreseeing the failure of
Bar-Kokhba's campaign, a failure for which Bar-Kokhba himself bore
responsibility. Rabbi Akiva expressed his view by way of a compelling parallel
between Bar-Kokhba and Yoav, both of whom exhibited great courage, skill and
selfless devotion, but also displayed overzealous, unrestrained rage that led
them to shed innocent blood.
******
The haftara for Parashat Bechukotai is taken from Sefer
Yirmiyahu and begins by foreseeing the time when the nations of the earth will
acknowledge the fallacy of their beliefs: "
nations shall approach You from the
ends of the earth and shall say, 'It was just falsehood that which was
bequeathed by our ancestors- vanity that is of no avail!'"
(16:19).
In the subsequent verse, the prophet succinctly sums up the inherent flaw
of pagan belief: "Can man make a God, when they are not
Gods?"
We find among the commentators two different interpretations of this
verse, which depend upon how one identifies the ambiguous subject "they." The Targum explains "they" as referring to the idols;
the prophet here simply states the obvious fact that the pagans attempt and
claim to make Gods that "are not God," that quite clearly have no divine
attributes. Metzudat David, however, explains that the subject of the
clause, "they are not God" is mankind.
The human being is himself far from a divine being; he lives under the
constraints of physical existence and human frailty. How, then, could he possibly create a
divine being? Can an inherently
flawed and limited human being produce an omnipotent creature that controls the
earth and its inhabitants?
Rav Mendel Hirsch, in his commentary, follows this approach of Metzudat David, and adds that the message conveyed in this
verse constitutes "the rent in the bandage which for thousands of years has kept
the eyes of mankind from seeing."
He then proceeds to explain to what "bandage" he refers and how it has
continued to blind mankind even well beyond the demise of ancient
paganism:
For this bandage is nothing other than the
erroneous conception that Man has to produce his God for himself. That Man, that mankind, if only they
would unite to put their best spiritual and material powers together, would be
able to make for themselves an everlasting support for their existence, an
everlasting means of their well-being, a God for their lives and happiness. Such a God for themselves have men been
seeking ever since the gates of Paradise closed behind them and they no longer
heard the Voice of God walking next to them in the Eden He had planted for
them. This God is what the savage
seeks in his fetish, the heathen in his image, is what the modern thinker seeks
in the principle on which he would found the permanent salvation of the
vacillating and tottering well-being and security of the world. They all forget that only a God can
create gods, forget that they themselves are not gods, themselves are only
limited creations of That Which created them and the world, that the world had
existed long before them and without them, and all universal happiness can only
be founded permanently by the One Who created the world and
them.
The flaw of paganism lies in the belief in
mankind's self-sufficient capacity to secure their well-being. Just as the builders of the Tower of
Bavel believed (at least according to one view in the Midrash) that through a
joint effort mankind could build a "support" to the heavens and thus bring
security and happiness, so did the pagans trust in their own ability to create
"Gods," manmade, self-contained sources of power and prosperity. Rav Mendel Hirsch ascribes this same
mindset to "the modern thinker" who formulates ideas and principles that he sees
as holding the key to man's salvation.
Yirmiyahu reminds us that, in Rav Hirsch's words, "only a God can create
gods," and that only He can bring mankind the joy and salvation it so
desperately seeks.