The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

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by Rav David Silverberg

Parashat Bechukotai begins with the berakhot, the promise of blessings that Benei Yisrael will enjoy should they remain faithful to the mitzvot. The opening verse of the parasha presents the condition for the bestowal of these blessings: "If you walk according to My statutes" – "Im be-chukotai teileikhu." The Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 35:4) claims that the term "chukotai" ("My statutes") here is a reference to "the statutes with which I established heaven and earth." The Midrash continues by citing the verse, "Thus said the Lord: As surely as I have established My covenant with day and night – the laws ['chukot'] of heaven and earth… " (Yirmiyahu 34:25). Meaning, the term "chukot" in the opening verse of our parasha corresponds to the "chukot" there in Sefer Yirmiyahu, where it refers to the laws of nature, "the laws of heaven and earth." The simple meaning of this Midrash is that the doctrine of reward and punishment discussed in this parasha should not be perceived as a system imposed onto the natural order. Rather, it constitutes part of the natural order itself. God created the world in such a way that mankind bears responsibility for his conduct, and that the natural world reacts to man in accordance with his behavior.

A deeper analysis of this Midrash, however, appears in Rav Barukh Yitzchak Yissakhar Halevi's "Birkat Yitzchak," which focuses specifically on the Midrash's reference to "the laws of heaven and earth." The Birkat Yitzchak suggests that the "laws of heaven and earth" refer to the inconsistent nature of life, the cycle of ups and downs that characterizes the world. For individuals, nations, and the world at large, life at times brings us high into the heavens, and at other moments it casts us down to the ground. We experience great moments of triumph and glory, and others of defeat and humiliation. This is the law of the heaven and earth, of the world generally, and this is also the law of Torah observance, which must be continued under all circumstances. We cannot limit our commitment to Torah to "the heavens," to periods when we enjoy prosperity and comfort, when circumstances allow for convenient involvement in Torah study and observance. The Torah must accompany us through all the hills and valleys of life, along all our journeys to the heavens as well as the unfortunate return to the depths of the ground.

The Birkat Yitzchak then suggests a second approach to the symbolism of "heaven and earth," one which better accommodates the straightforward reading of the Midrash. The Midrash perhaps refers here to the relationship between heaven and earth that God implanted within the world He created. "The laws of heaven and earth" might mean the effect the man's conduct on earth has on the heavens, the power invested within the human being to control the skies, so-to-speak. Commenting on Yaakov's famous dream of the ladder, Chazal note that the Hebrew word for ladder, "sulam," has the same numerical value as "Sinai." The Birkat Yitzchak explains that the Torah is our ladder, it is what allows us to control the heavens even while we stand on earth. Indeed, the blessings promised in Parashat Bechukotai are mainly about abundant rainfall. Rain, perhaps more than any other natural phenomenon, symbolizes the connection between heaven and earth. The Torah here makes rainfall contingent upon our observance of Torah. This is the essential nature of "chukotai," of God's commandments, that they grant us the power to control the heavens even as we live our lives here on earth.

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Parashat Bechukotai presents the "berakhot" and "kelalot," the descriptions of the blessings and curses that Benei Yisrael will experience for their observance or neglect of the Torah (respectively). An enigmatic passage in the Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 35:1) notes the letters with which each of these sections begins. The berakhot section begins with the first letter of the alphabet, "alef" ("Im be-chukotai teileikhu"), and ends with the final letter, "tav" ("va-oleikh etkhem komemiyut" – 26:13). The curses, by contrast, begin with the sixth letter, "vav" ("Ve-im lo tishme'u li" – 26:14), and conclude with the immediately preceding letter, "hei" ("be-yad Moshe" – 26:46). "Not only that," the Midrash continues, "but they are in reverse order." Meaning, not only do the curses begin in the middle of the alphabet, rather than at the beginning, but they move backwards, so-to-speak, from "vav" to "hei." What is this Midrash coming to tell us?

Rav Shlomo Yosef Zevin explains that this Midrash expresses the fundamental nature of berakhot and kelalot, of times of success on the one hand, and of crisis on the other. In good times, events follow a logical sequence and arrangement, they unfold in a more or less predictable and sensible fashion. "Alef" is followed by " bet," which itself is followed by "gimmel," etc. Crisis, by contrast, is characterized by irrationality. Disaster is often accompanied by incomprehensible cruelty, entirely insensible conduct of those involved, and the unpredictability of events. A period of kelalot is a period that cannot be easily understood or foreseen, when we hesitate before opening the newspaper in fear of what we might read.

The Midrash continues, "If you are worthy, I will turn the curses into blessings for you. When? When you observe My Torah." Rav Zevin explains that the backward progression from "vav" to "hei" can, potentially, also reflect a logical progression: we can continue proceeding backward until we come around again back to the letter "vav." Meaning, times of trouble have the potential to turn into times of triumph, regression can often help precipitate progress. If, after suffering defeat, we are meritorious, then God can and will easily make order out of chaos, stability out of turmoil. The Midrash thus emphasizes to us as we prepare to read Parashat Bechukotai that even the curses can turn into blessings, and out of the most chaotic realities can emerge a period of blessing.

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Amidst the warnings presented in the "tokhecha" section of Parashat Bechukotai, God threatens Benei Yisrael, "Va-avadetem ba-goyim" – literally, "You will be lost among the nations" (26:38). The straightforward reading of this clause implies that God here threatens to annihilate Benei Yisrael, Heaven forbid, in exile. Yet, just several verses later, when God offers soothing words of comfort and solace to conclude the harsh, frightening list of curses, He guarantees them that He will never destroy them completely (26:44). What, then, did God mean by "Va-avadetem ba-goyim"? The Torat Kohanim cites the explanation of Rabbi Akiva, that this verse refers specifically to the tribes often called "the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel." In the latter part of the First Temple period, the Northern Kingdom, which consisted of all the tribes besides Yehuda and Binyamin (and Levi), were exiled by the Assyrian Empire. According to Rabbi Akiva, our verse forewarns that these ten tribes never have nor ever will return to the Jewish people. This position of Rabbi Akiva appears as well in the mishna in Masekhet Sanhedrin (11b), where Rabbi Akiva posits, "The ten tribes will never return."

The Torat Kohanim then presents an anonymous second view that the word "va-avadetem" in this verse does not mean destruction, but rather exile. This is presumably the position of Rabbi Eliezer, mentioned in the aforementioned mishna in Sanhedrin, who claims that the Ten Lost Tribes will ultimately return to Am Yisrael, they have not been lost forever.

Rav Barukh Ha-levi Epstein, in his Torah Temima, cites a number of examples where the verb "a.v.d.," which generally denotes permanent loss, actually means exile. Among these examples are relatively famous verses, such as the verse from Parashat Ki-Tavo cited at the Pesach seder: "Arami OVED avi." According to some commentators (see Ibn Ezra, Devarim 26:5), this verse means, "My father [Yaakov] was a lost Armean." "Lost" here obviously does not refer to his having been destroyed, but rather describes Yaakov's constant wandering, his never having found a permanent residence. The Torah Temima also cites here the famous verse in Sefer Yeshayahu (27:13), "U-va'u ha-OVEDIM be-eretz Ashur" – "The 'ovedim' in the land of Assyria will come… " This verse foresees the return of those exiled to Assyria (the Ten Tribes?), to whom it refers as "ovedim."

Returning to the view of Rabbi Akiva, one must wonder as to how such a thing can occur – that ten of the twelve tribes of Israel are lost forever. Do Reuven, Shimon, Yissakhar, Zevulun, etc. really have no more descendants that remain part of the Jewish people? Did all these tribes really leave entirely, such that forever more we consist only of those from Yehuda, Binyamin and Levi?

Rav Reuven Margaliyot, in his "Margaliyot Ha-yam" to Masekhet Sanhedrin, claims that the Ten Tribes did not entirely disappear. He notes that the Rash Mi-shantz, in his commentary to Masekhet Yadayim (4:4), writes that when Sancheriv (the Assyrian emperor) occupied the countries of Amon and Moav, he exiled only the upper classes, leaving behind the peasant class. Perhaps, then, the same occurred when Sancheriv captured the Northern Kingdom of Israel, that he exiled only the upper classes. The lower class, perhaps, moved south to join the Judean Kingdom, which at that time became a strong kingdom under the capable leadership of Chizkiyahu. Rav Margaliyot adds that recently discovered manuscripts indicate that Sancheriv took only 27,290 people from the Northern Kingdom. We might speculate, then, that he exiled only the prominent citizens, leaving behind the peasantry, who joined the southern kingdom. The debate in the mishna and in Torat Kohanim, then, is whether or not the descendants of those upper classes who did go into exile will ever return. According to both views, however, remnants of all twelve tribes remain to this very day.

(Rav Margaliyot cites as proof the verses in Sefer Divrei Hayamim II (beginning of chapter 30), which tell of letters King Chizkiyahu of the Judean Kingdom sent to tribes in the north, implying that there remained a discernible population from the northern tribes. But it is clear from the sequence of events as told there in Divrei Hayamim that this occurred before Sancheriv's capture of the Northern Kingdom, and one thus wonders how Rav Margaliyot sought to draw proof from those verses. Likewise, Rav Margaliyot cites as a source to this theory, that Sancheriv left behind the peasantry, from the comments of the Radak in Zekharya 7:5. This, too, appears to be a terrible mistake, as the Radak there is referring to the peasant population left in Eretz Yisrael after the destruction of the First Temple at the hands of the Babylonians; he does not speak there at all about Sancheriv and the Ten Tribes.)

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The mishna in Masekhet Megila (31a) establishes that "ein mafsikin be-klalot," literally, "we do not interrupt the [reading of the] curses." This refers to the reading of the "tokhecha" section in Parashat Bechukotai, the description of the unspeakable horrors that God warns will befall Benei Yisrael should they disobey His commands. The mishna teaches that we may not end an aliya in the middle of this section; the one who begins the tokhecha section must complete it. The Gemara (31b) explains that this halakha evolves (according to one opinion) from a principle mentioned in Sefer Mishlei (3:11) that we should not "despise rebuke." By bringing the aliya to a close before concluding the sharp words of admonition presented in the tokhecha, one gives the impression that he attempts to avoid the continuation, that he has heard enough. Chazal instituted that we must read the tokhecha section straight and uninterrupted to its completion, symbolic of the message that we must confront the bitter truth honestly, rather than trying to escape it. The fact that the curses of this section are very unpleasant to the ear – not to mention the heart – does not make it any less relevant to our lives, nor does it excuse us from carefully listening to and studying its harsh details.

Rabbi Yitzchak Stollman, in his "Minchat Yitzchak," suggests a deeper dimension to this halakha of "ein mafsikin be-klalot." Ending an aliya in the middle of the curses makes it appear as though nothing remains afterwards, that this is the end. Our insistence on continuing to read through the entire tokhecha section symbolizes our national resolve to continue regardless of the curses that have befallen us. Am Yisrael has always understood that the hard times it endures do not mark the final chapter; they ultimately lead to the blessings that follow. We therefore do not stop an aliya during the tokhecha, but rather press onward, confident that better times will soon be upon us.

That same Gemara in Masekhet Megilla cites the comment of Rav Acha, "Al ta'aseh ha-tokhecha kotzin kotzin" – do not turn the tokhecha section into thorns. On the surface, Rav Acha teaches us simply that we mustn't break up the tokhecha into small pieces, but rather read it as a single unit. But what specifically does the image of "thorns" convey? Rav Stollman suggests that periods of crisis and tragedy can often become "thorns" that keep Jews away from their faith. Like a fence of thistles intended to ward off trespassers, the fulfillment of the tokhecha threatens to keep Judaism off limits to so many among the nation. By ending the aliya, so-to-speak, in the middle of the tokhecha, by placing a period at the end of the sentence, we effectively plant a thorn bush around the Torah preventing Jews from coming near. Only by reminding ourselves and others of the eternal strength of the Jewish people, through our firm belief that the sentence does not end in the middle of tokhecha, can we continue inviting all Jews into the world of Torah and mitzvot, rather than keep them at a distance.

(It is important to point out that Rabbi Stollman published this volume in 1948, three years after the end of the Holocaust.)

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The opening verses of Parashat Bechukotai describe the blessings God promises to bestow upon Benei Yisrael in reward for their observance of the commandments. These blessings speak mainly of two categories: prosperity and security. First, Benei Yisrael are promised abundant rainfall and a surplus of produce. Thereafter, God speaks of military success and the blessing of security, the ability to live without fear of attack.

Interestingly, though, one verse seems to itself combine both themes: "Your threshing shall overtake the vintage, and your vintage shall overtake the sowing; you shall eat your fill of bread and dwell securely in your land" (26:5). How do the two halves of this verse – agricultural success and security - relate to one another? By and large, this section separates between these two areas of blessing; why does this verse combine the two?

The Or Ha-chayim suggests that the description of agricultural prosperity in this verse includes an additional element – that foreigners will perform the labor in the fields for Benei Yisrael. This situation naturally results in a need for security: if Benei Yisrael spend their days in their homes, offices or yeshivas, while foreign workers tend to their fields, they need a special blessing to protect their property from the hostility possibly felt by their laborers.

Previously, however, the Or Ha-chayim suggests a different, simpler interpretation, one to which we can very easily relate in our times. Agricultural success means little if the nation is constantly preoccupied with security. Beautiful homes, large bonuses and expensive cars do little for a nation if it must consistently deal with wars and conflict. Therefore, the natural culmination of the blessings of financial prosperity is the blessing of security. The Or Ha-chayim then adds a comment about the word "be-artzekhem" ("in your land") in this verse. He claims that this word comes to explain to what type of security the verse refers: a situawhere our right to the land is accepted and unchallenged. "You shall dwell securely in your land" thus means, "You shall dwell securely, for all will recognize that this is your land."

The modern history of the Land of Israel affords us a perspective by which we can add a further dimension to this interpretation to our verse. So long as there was no threshing or sowing in the land, we faced no challenge to our right to Eretz Yisrael, and we thus had no particular need for security living there. But once Benei Yisrael come to Eretz Yisrael and "eat your fill of bread," then suddenly we are confronted, we are challenged, we are denied our historic and divine right to our homeland. It is at this point, when the first half of this verse is fulfilled, that we so desperately call to the Almighty in prayer that He fulfill the second half, as well: "You shall dwell securely in your land," that the nations of the world once and for all acknowledge our right to Eretz Yisrael, so that we can once and for all dwell securely, without fear of bloodshed and conflict.

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Towards the end of the "tokhecha" section in Parashat Bechukotai, which describes the terrible tragedies God threatens to bring upon Benei Yisrael for their disobedience, we find a prediction that the nation will ultimately repent. The Torah foresees the time when "They shall confess their iniquity and the iniquity of their forefathers, in that they trespassed against Me" (26:40). Much to our surprise, in the very next verse, God promises to intensify His punishment of Benei Yisrael: "I, in turn, will be hostile to them and bring them into the land of their enemies… " How is this an appropriate response on God's part to the nation's repentance? Does not teshuva constitute among the most basic and central concepts in Judaism, the opportunity mercifully granted to a sinner to return to God and eradicate his iniquitous past? Why, then, does Am Yisrael's confession result in their being driven to their enemies' lands?

Chazal, in Torat Kohanim (cited by Rashi here), explain that beneath the surface of this prediction, of Benei Yisrael's banishment into enemy lands, lies a glimmer of hope and encouragement. Living among foreign peoples in foreign lands, Benei Yisrael may likely decide to abandon their heritage, bring their unique covenant with God to an end, and become like all other nations. God here assures Benei Yisrael that this will not happen. He will bring them into the lands of their enemies; meaning, He will ensure that the host nation will always be an enemy, thus preventing full Jewish assimilation into the society. In this way, the first step of God's acceptance of Benei Yisrael's teshuva is ensuring their successful maintenance of identity, which He accomplishes by ensuring continued resentment on the part of the host population towards the Jews.

The Ramban suggests a different explanation, claiming that the land to which Benei Yisrael are brought in these verses is actually Eretz Yisrael. In the Ramban's view, as elaborated upon by Professor Nechama Leibowitz in her Studies to this parasha, the verbal confession marks only the first stage of repentance, and, in response, God brings about the first stage of redemption. In this stage, He brings Benei Yisrael back to Eretz Yisrael but keeps them under foreign rule. "I will bring them to the land of their enemies" refers to a period when Benei Yisrael live in their land as subjects to another kingdom, such as when they returned during the time of Ezra, under the protection and authority of the Persian Empire. As Professor Leibowitz notes, however, it seems difficult to interpret "the land of their enemies" as a reference to the Land of Israel.

A much different approach is taken by Rav David Tzvi Hoffman, in his commentary to this section. He claims that the second verse, which describes God's continued anger and punishment, is in fact part of the confession described in the previous verse. Benei Yisrael's admission of guilt will include an acknowledgment not only of their wrongdoing, but also that the calamities they suffered resulted from their misdeeds. Thus, the verse, "I, in turn, will be hostile to them and bring them into the land of their enemies… " does not tell of God's response to the confession, but rather presents the content of the confession. Clearly, however, as Professor Leibowitz observes, this interpretation, too, seems to deviate from the plain meaning of the text. The second verse ("I, in turn, will be hostile to them… ") so closely resembles the other verses of the tokhecha which predict the calamity God warns will befall Am Yisrael. It thus seems hardly likely that this is not a prediction but a citation of Benei Yisrael's confession.

Tomorrow we will iy"H look at other explanations suggested for these verses.

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Yesterday we looked at the difficulty arising from two adjacent verses in the "tokhecha" section in Parashat Bechukotai. Towards the end of the Torah's description of the devastating calamities threatening to befall Benei Yisrael should their fail to observe God's commandments, we find that Benei Yisrael will "confess their iniquity and the iniquity of their forefathers, in that they trespassed against Me" (26:40). Immediately thereafter, however, we are told that God "will be hostile to them" and "bring them into the land of their enemies." How is this an appropriate response to Benei Yisrael's teshuva?

Today we will consider three other possible explanations.

The "Bina Le-itim" finds the clue to understanding these verses in the term "and the iniquity of their forefathers." Confession involves more than the admission of wrongdoing; it means the admission of guilt. That is, the sinner must acknowledge not only that he committed a wrongful act, but also that he could have avoided the transgression, it was well within his capabilities to refrain from the sin committed. Attributing the cause of one's misdeed to external parties or factors undermines the entire worth of the confession. The Bina Le-itim thus suggests that in this verse, Benei Yisrael confess their wrongdoing but blame it on the "iniquity of their forefathers." This confession thus does not qualify as the first stage of repentance, and God therefore continues punishing Benei Yisrael. While it is true that much of who we are depends on our background and upbringing, there is a limit to how much we can hang our shortcomings on our education and childhood.

Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson, in his "Divrei Shaul," suggests a similar approach, only with a slightly different point of emphasis. The process of teshuva, as famously outlined by the Rambam in his Hilkhot Teshuva, entails both confession regarding the past and a commitment regarding the future. The sinner must not only acknowledge his previous wrongdoing, but he must make a concerted effort to change his conduct henceforth. God therefore does not absolve Benei Yisrael for their neglect of the Torah despite their confession, because this confession was not accompanied by the necessary commitment to improvement. The Divrei Shaul points out that for this reason, God adds that after bringing Benei Yisrael into enemy lands, "then at last shall their obdurate heart humble itself." This perhaps suggests that previously, before their banishment into exile, Benei Yisrael did not undergo a change of heart, regardless of their sincere confession. Exile was therefore necessary to effect the necessary change in Benei Yisrael's conduct.

Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his "Yalkut Yehuda," identifies a different deficiency in Benei Yisrael's confession. In his description of teshuva, the Rambam (Hilkhot Teshuva 7:3) emphasizes that one must repent not only for wrongful actions committed, but also for sinful thoughts, attitudes and personality. This includes sins such as anger, overindulgence, laziness, and so on. Teshuva is required not only for concrete acts of sin, but also for one's sinful interior, so-to-speak. Rav Ginsburg claims that herein lies the shortcoming in Benei Yisrael's repentance. As the verse describes, Benei Yisrael confess tiniquity "in that they trespassed against Me." The term used in this context, "ma'al," denotes an act of betrayal. Benei Yisrael are described as confessing their acts of sin, but not their sinful thoughts and personality traits. Therefore, God does not accept their teshuva, but rather continues punishing them until the point where "their obdurate heart humbles itself," meaning, they have cleansed themselves internally, as well, correcting the flaws of not only their conduct, but their heart and mind, as well.

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