Parshat Bereishit: Sibling Rivalry Begins

The Torah does not waste any time introducing sibling rivalry into the world. The very first brothers in the world end up fighting, a fight that was so critical it led to one murdering the other. What exactly happened here and what are we supposed to learn from it? Let’s explore the story as told in the Torah and then fill in some gaps from the Medrash.

In chapter four, the Torah tells us Chava gave birth to Cain and Hevel.  Cain becomes a farmer and Hevel a shepherd. They both become successful and seek to bring offerings to Hashem. Cain brings an offering of the fruit of the ground, not his best quality, while Hevel follows with his own offering of the finest animals. Hashem “turns” to Hevel’s offering, but not to Cain’s. Cain gets really upset, and Hashem asks him “why are you so upset?”. Cain proceeds to speak to Hevel in the field and ultimately kills him. The aftermath is also interesting in how Hashem approaches Cain about this, but let’s leave that for another time.

What happened here? Why did Cain get so upset? The Torah clearly states Cain was upset, so why did Hashem ask him why he was so upset? Even if he was really upset, how did this lead to killing Hevel?

Medrash Rabba says they were fighting about how to rule the world.  One took the earth and one took the moveable objects. One said "That land you are standing on is mine!" and the other said "What you are wearing is mine!" One said "Take it off!" and the other said "Fly!" Because of this, "Cain rose up against Hevel his brother and slew him.“

There is a famous story that once took place in the city of Brisk where a shochet came to the Beit din concerned one of his animals might have become a treifa and no longer kosher. He presented the animal to the dayan, Rav Simcha Zelig who confirmed the shochet’s fears that the animal was treif, and he had to bear the huge financial loss. The shochet accepted his ruling humbly and went home. A few weeks later, the same shochet comes into the beit din with a financial dispute with another individual, one of relatively minor financial impact. After hearing the case, the dayan rules against the shochet, whereupon he gets up enraged, begins yelling at the dayan and had to be escorted out of the beit din. Everyone was stunned and wondered why the same shochet who had accepted the dayan’s ruling a weeks prior on a matter that cost him a huge financial loss, would now get enraged over losing a few dollars? Rav Chaim Brisker explained the difference; in the second case he lost to someone else! When it was a case of his animal being treif, that was just him and halacha, no opposition, but in the second case he lost to someone else. The amount of money wasn’t the issue; it was that he couldn’t stand losing to someone else.

With this story in mind, Rabbi Frand suggests we can understand Cain and the source of his anger. If he was upset Hashem ignored his gift and felt rejected, that would be an understandable reason to be hurt. If, however, his anger stemmed from losing to Hevel, then his anger was unfounded. Hashem said to Cain, “Why are you annoyed?. It was because he knew Cain was angered by the competition. He was teaching Cain a lesson: When we get upset and angry, we need to assess our emotions to see where they stem from. Are we hurt because of our own failure or because someone else did better than we did?

The lesson for us is the same; we should strive for excellence in all we do, and if we have a setback or failure, it is ok to be upset and use that energy to refocus ourselves to be successful the next time around. But to be angered by competition and/or because others are striving while we struggle is not a healthy emotion.

Taking this one step further, the Medrash Tanchuma says Cain’s offering consisted of flax, while Hevel’s was of wool. Clearly the mixing of wool and flax (linen) is flammable and leads the Torah to prohibit the wearing of shaatnez (clothing with a mixture of wool and linen). Add this to the Medrash Rabba we mentioned above, it became clear to the brothers that they could not coexist and that is why they sought to divide the world - one with the land and one with the moveable objects. These offerings of shaatnez led to destruction... the first murder! I once heard Rabbi Pesach Krohn add to this the understanding of why there is only one exception to the halacha of shaatnez, only one person who not only is allowed to wear shaatnez, but is obligated to. The Kohen Gadol’s special clothing consisted of shaatnez. The first Kohen gadol was Aaron who we know was an אוהב שלום ורודף שלום, someone who always sought after peace. He was the opposite of Cain and Hevel; he brought people together as the rectification of discord.

Let us learn this invaluable lesson and seek self improvement, but not competition for its own sake. Let us seek to bring people together in peacefulness and not do things to create strife or hostility. Finally, let’s get along with our siblings!

Parshat Ha'azinu: The Power of Learning Torah

The pasuk in this week’s parsha says, ( כי שם ה׳ אקרא הבו גודל לאלקינו (לב:ג - “When I call out the name of the Lord, ascribe greatness to our G-d.” The Talmud (Brachot 21a) tells us that this pasuk is the Biblical source for making Birchat HaTorah every morning before learning Torah. The commentators go to great lengths to analyze what this means exactly: is it really a biblical level obligation or not? And what are the ramifications? Similarly, the commentators  ask, why do we say two brachot on the mitzvah of Learning Torah, when typically, one mitzvah gets one bracha assigned to it? (We say לעסוק בדברי תורה and שבחר בנו מכל העמים… והערב נא….)

I will focus this thought on a different, yet  basic question; one that I suspect many of us have often wondered about.  Why do we not recite a bracha when we conclude our learning of the Torah? When we have kriyat HaTorah in shul, we recite a bracha before and one after. Why is our individual practice different?

Rabbi Mordechai Jaffe, otherwise known for his classic commentary, The Levush, suggests a novel approach to understand this concept. When we make Birchat HaTorah over the kriyat haTorah in shul, it fits the pattern of a typical birchat hanehenin; a bracha over receiving benefit. Just as we make a bracha before and after receiving the benefit of eating a food, so too, for kriyat haTorah in shul we recite a bracha before and after. But the brachot recite every morning goes on our obligation to learn Torah, which is upon us at all times, as the pasuk in Yehoshua (1:8) says, והגית בו יומם ולילה, “you should toil in it by day and night.” In other words, our obligation to learn Torah each day has no end time; it is always there. Whenever we are not occupied with earning a livelihood, attending to our family needs, or to other mitzvot, the mitzvah to learn Torah is paramount. Therefore, it does not make sense to make a bracha achrona on our individual obligation to learn Torah.

The Levush adds that one reason we recite two brachot in the morning is so that one of them should count for the bracha achrona on the learning we did the previous day. He suggests we cannot even say a bracha achrona at night, before going to bed for our obligation continues up until the moment that we actually go to sleep. He notes that although according to this logic, we should really recite the bracha of אשר בחר בנו first to go on the previous day's learning, since we recite that bracha as a bracha rishona before the kriyat haTorah in shul, we remain consistent and use that as the bracha rishona each morning before learning Torah.

On the heels of Yom Kippur and in anticipation of Simchat Torah, it is incumbent upon us to understand the importance of learning Torah. It is always there; you cannot hide from it or run away from it. This year, me must accept upon ourselves to strengthen our own Torah learning and the learning which takes place in our homes.

A few practical suggestions:

1. Parents should find an additional weekly shiur to attend. Model the importance of learning for your children. If your schedule doesn’t allow for going attending a shiur, make a set time each week to listen to a shiur online. Make it part of your week! Your children will see it too.
2. Choose something the entire family can learn at the Shabbat table, or perhaps even at the dinner table a few times a week. Keep it simple so that you will be able to maintain it. Imagine the impact this can have on you and your children.

Aseret Yemai Teshuvah: We Are Hanging in the Balance

The Talmud tells us there are three books open before Hashem on Rosh Hashanah:

1. רשעים - the evil/ non-observers,

2. צדיקים - righteous observers,

3. בינונים - those in the middle, the average Jew.

On Rosh Hashanah, books one and three are signed and sealed, the righteous for life and the evil for death. But the average person, the בינוני, is

תלוין ועומדין מראש השנה עד יום כיפור - זכו לחיים, לא זכו למיתה, loosely translated they are “hanging in the balance,” or their judgement is deferred until Yom Kippur. Whereupon if they merit it, they will be written for life. If not, they will be written for death.

The commentators have lots to discuss on this passage. Many search to understand the notion that the Talmud; is it promising all the righteous are written for life and the evil to death, when our observations in the world do not support that? How to define the tsadik and rasha in this passage is also not simple. Let’s leave that for another time. Lets focus on the last segment, discussing the ביננוני as it is likely describes most of us average Jews.

The Rambam quotes this description of the three books in the laws of Teshuva, but uncharacteristically, he changes the language in a subtle, yet significant way. He writes

תולין אותו מראש השנה עד יום כיפור – ואם עשו תשובה נחתם לחיים, ואם לא עשו תשובה, נחתם למיתה. This means that it is not a question of our “meriting” life per se, but we have to actively do teshuva to merit life.

This presents a few challenges:

1. When one studies the Rambam regularly, it is clear he goes to great lengths to maintain the integrity of the original text in the Talmud. If so, why did the Rambam change the language here?
2. Why is it even true? Why must we do this involved teshuvah process to merit life? If the average Jew is a beinoni, someone in the middle, someone with 50% merits and 50% aveirot, why can’t we simply do more mitzvot during these days to be moved to the book of life? Let’s give some extra tzedaka, refrain from lashon hora and let that tip the scales for us? Why the need for teshuvah?
3. Why does the Talmud say there are three books on Rosh Hashana? Isn’t the Talmud really describing two books on Rosh Hashanah? The Righteous and the evil? The average people are pushed off until Yom Kippur! So why state there are three books?

To gain insight into what our sages are trying to teach us here, let us look at three approaches that will help us resolve these challenges.

Approach #1

The famous commentator on the Ramabam, Lechem Mishneh suggests the reason we can’t simply do a few extra mitzvoth to tip the scales is because choosing not to do teshuvah is actually a sin that would tip the scales in the other direction. Rav Yitzchok Blazer adds that although Hashem has given us the gift of repentance and it can be done any day of the year, these ten days of repentance are days when Hashem is begging us to return to Him. In actuality, not doing Teshuvah is worse than any mitzvah we could possible do during these days. If is for this reason the Rambam emphasizes we must do teshuvah to merit life. So much so, that he did not want us to misunderstand the words of the Talmud – זכו – to merit; do not think that is some luck or mazel that we might get if Hashem is in the right mood. Rather, we need to earn it through systematically introspecting and changing our ways.

Approach #2

Rav Chaim Shmulewitz in his famous work, Sichot Musser, suggests a compelling, yet scary approach. When the Talmud writes תולין אותו, it does NOT mean that the judgement is deferred. Rather from the word Talui, to hang, Hashem actually judges the beinoni for death on Rosh Hashanah, as if we are on the gallows with a noose around our necks. But unlike the Rasha who is sealed for death on Rosh Hashana, the beinoni is given the 10 days of repentance to do teshuvah and uproot the death sentence. In other words, doing a few random acts of mitzvot will not uproot a death sentence; we have to really change who are and who we want to become. Again, this helps us understand why teshuvah is absolutely necessary and for this reason the Rambam didn’t want us to misunderstand the words of the Talmud. I believe this approach also helps us understand why the Talmud states that there are three active books on Rosh Hashana, for the beinoni really is being judged on that day.

Approach #3

Rav Yitzchak Hutner in his famous work, Pachad Yitzchak, suggests another way to approach the entire passage of the Talmud. He says that the three books and the three groups of people should not be understood in an immature, Kindergarten type of way, where the צדיק is 100% good, the רשע 100% bad and the בינוני 50% good and 50% bad. He argues that these categories are a מידה בנפש or a character description of who we really are. A רשע is someone whose predisposition is not to take the Torah and halacha into account in guiding his actions, while the צדיק is someone who generally does use the Torah and halacha to guide his actions. What then is a בינוני? He is someone who has no inner, spiritual definition. Sometimes he does this, sometimes that, sometimes good, sometimes bad; but there is no predisposition to either. Rav Hutner suggests that the Rambam is teaching us that to be written into the book of life, we need to define who we really are. We shouldn’t look at our Judaism in way of middle of the road in that we do some mitzvot but look the other way on others. No one is perfect, but we need to recognize that the areas of the Torah that we are not perfect in are areas we need to work on and grow with over time. Once again, doing some random mitzvoth cannot accomplish that; we need a systematic, holistic and honest look at who we are, who we want to become and how we are going to get there. For this reason, the Rambam veered from the language of the Talmud to teach us this invaluable lesson.

Regardless of which approach you connect to, the message seems obvious and direct. As orthodox Jews, we need to remind ourselves what the high holy days are really about. We have to be prepared to take an honest look at ourselves and evaluate if we are really living the life Hashem wants for us. Are we keeping the Torah and mitzvot as best as we can? Are we growing each year in our observance?

May the merit of our collective teshuvah reach the heavens and compel Hashem to write us all into the book of life.

גמר חתימה טובה!