Parashat HaShavua: Emor

The Happy Medium

And you shall take for yourself on the first day the fruit of beautiful trees, branches of palm-trees, and branches of thick trees, and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before Hashem, your God, seven days.”

Leviticus 23:40

In Parashat Emor, the different Jewish holidays are enumerated and discussed. Among them, we see the holiday of Sukkot, in whose context the Torah discusses the Four Species the etrog (“Fruit of a beautiful tree”), lulav (“Branches of palm-trees”), aravot (“Branches of thick trees), and the hadassim (“Willows of the brook”). Two of the Four Species species symbolize two different parts of a person's life: the etrog represents this world and the lulav represents the “World to Come”. The hadassim and the aravot, though, represent two different humanistic traits: the hadassim are plain, and are there to remind us to refrain from materialism, and the aravot symbolize humility. Looking at the hadassim, though, a contradiction arises. Were we not commanded to “...be fruitful and multiply and populate the land and conquer it,” (Genesis 1:28) meaning that we, as human beings, should fully indulge ourselves and take advantage of what the world has to offer. In addition, when looking at what the aravot symbolize, we are told that humans were created “...in His own image, in the image of God that created him,” (Genesis 1:27). Why should we not be proud of this fact? After all, we are the only species on earth to be created in God's image!

Looking at the symbolism of the hadassim and the commandment “and conquer it,” we see that they represent a circumstance at one end of a spectrum — either we refrain from all worldly pleasures and never “conquer” the world, or we do the opposite; we “conquer” the world and completely forget to refrain from going overboard. The same applies to the concept of humility and publicly flaunting the fact that we were made in God's image. In both instances, we are presented with rather extreme choices.

Although the hadassim and the aravot, self-restraint and humility, are directly connected to the lulav, or the “World to Come”, they are accompanied by the etrog, which symbolizes this world, and is the brightest of the Four Species, with most pungent smell and taste of all the species. Although self-restraint and humility are required to be a part of the “World to Come”, we must still be able to enjoy some of what this world has to offer, from the color to the taste to the smell. Despite this, we must exhibit self-control.

God has given us free will, He wants us to find the the balance between the two to “Fill up the land and conquer it,” while at the same time, to know when certain pleasures may be considered “too much.” While we were made in God's image, we still must be able to act with humility. Achieving this balance depends on us as individuals. This point of equilibrium may not be a clear 50/50 cut, as some might think. The choice as to where to put this barrier between too much and too little is ours — no one can make this decision for us.

Parashat HaShavua: Acharei Mot-Kedoshim

On Being an "Insider"

“And you shall say unto them: any man from the house of Israel, or from the strangers that sojourn among them, that shall offer a burnt-offering or a sacrifice, and he did not bring it to the door of the Tent of Meeting, to sacrifice it to God — that man shall be cut off from his people.”

(Leviticus 17:8, 9)

These verses contain the commandment that B'nei Yisrael are forbidden to bring a sacrifice outside of the “Tent of Meeting,” or the Tabernacle. The punishment for this transgression is karet. Why would bringing a sacrifice brought outside of the Tabernacle be forbidden? One might say that, perhaps, the Tabernacle is the only place holy enough for sacrifices. One might even argue that personal sacrifices, such as the olah and shelamim, should be brought from one's own house, and not from a communal gathering place, as this might even add a more personal aspect. To help answer this question, consider the following parable:

There was once a king who owned a magnificent palace. Whenever his friends, the nobles, would come to visit, he would invite them into his personal chambers, where they would sit and dine. Other citizens of the kingdom were not allowed to enter these chambers, rather, if they requested an audience with the king, they would have to meet with the king in a public chamber of the palace. One day, a poor beggar approached the palace in the hopes that the person who lived there might be able to give him some money or food. When he approached the gates to the palace, he demanded to speak to the king. One of the sentries that were standing guard over the palace gates ran off to tell the king that a beggar was outside and had requested an audience with him. Instead of inviting the beggar into the public chambers of the palace, however, the king got up off his throne and personally went outside to give the beggar money. Some of the king's servants remarked that the king seemed to have shown more respect to a lowly beggar than he did to his own friends, since the king left his throne to give the beggar money, whereas even the nobles were required to walk through the palace to speak with the king. The king explained that he did not want the filthy beggar to enter the palace, lest he make the palace dirty, whereas the king's friends, the nobles, were clean and dignified, and thus were allowed to enter the palace.

B'nei Yisrael could be compared to the king's nobles. They were personally invited to enter the king's palace — the Tabernacle — in order to bring sacrifices. This was because B'nei Yisrael, at this point, were very close to God, and they were holy, or “dignified.” They had Moses as their leader, who spoke to God face-to-face, not like other prophets, who would receive a prophecy through a dream, riddle, or parable. This generation of B'nei Yisrael had a direct relationship with God, which was why they were not only allowed, but were required to bring sacrifices in the Tabernacle and later in the Holy Temple, God's palace. B'nei Yisrael's camp and, later, the land of Israel, can be compared to the “public chambers” of the king's palace.

We no longer have the Holy Temple or the Tabernacle to bring sacrifices; we are no longer God's “nobles,” who were able to enter the innermost chambers of the palace. Yet, we are also not the beggar, who is not even allowed to enter the palace. (The fact that he is not allowed to enter the palace is an insult to the beggar.) Instead, we are the middle ground — the general public who, while allowed to enter the “palace,” or Eretz Yisrael, although we are not allowed to bring sacrifices. This past Wednesday, we celebrated Yom Ha'aztmaut, marking the anniversary of being able to, finally, re-enter the “public chambers” of the king's palace, or Israel.  It is the Jewish dream to, one day, be able to bring personal sacrifices to God in his “innermost chamber,” a privilege not given to any other nation, and we will be able to rebuild the personal relationship with God that we once had. 

A Teenager Could Have Figured This Out

A recent study was conducted by the Pew Internet and American Life Project and the University of Michigan's Department of Communication Studies shows that teens are very attached to their cellphones. They have also embraced text messaging ("texting") as a regular form of communication. While teens love this, parents and schools do not.


Um...please don't accuse me of over-analyzing this. But, let's see: texting is a perfect way to send short, blunt messages under your desk / dinner table  with only a few muscles being moved. Slowly, it seems, texting is taking the place of calling, which is much more obvious to a parent / teacher, since the phone is stuck to your ear -- much more conspicuous. So, let's see: kids love it because they can get away with it, and teachers and parents hate it because their kids get away with breaking school rules, and doing so in a very unnoticeable manner.


Wow, this really is intuitive. Moreover, the survey also says more than 75% of the 800 teens, ages 12 through 17, own a cellphone. More than half of those who own a cellphone admitted to texting during school or other times when using a cellphone for its primary use -- calling -- would normally be prohibited. In addition, the survey also found that teenagers who pay for their own cellphone bills are more likely to "sext" (sending sexy text messages; use your imagination here) than teens who either have their parents pay the phone bill or pay a fraction of it.


Again, this seems obvious: does one really want their parents knowing who they are texting or what the text messages contain if they are sending messages or pictures that are sexually explicit?


This next bit of information is also not surprising: teenage girls are more likely to have their cellphones monitored than teenage boys, although the younger the age, the more parents say they use features such as GPS, by calling to check in, or via a teen's favored method of communication, through text messages. (What I'm writing here is that texting may actually have a potential use for parents.)


Let me just quickly summarize what this survey has proven:

• teenagers love being able to be constantly connected with their friends
• parents and teachers hate it when kids break the rules
• teenagers love breaking rules and getting away with it
• teenagers are less likely to break rules when their parents know what they are doing

So, all in all, this survey just proved, once again, what we already knew.

Parashat HaShavua: Tazria-Metzorah

Three Worlds

This week's parashah begins with the laws of birth and circumcision. Rabbi Bechaye, who lived in 11th century Spain and wrote the book Duties of the Heart, says that a person's life can be divided into three main worlds: the pregnancy, in which the embryo is not yet born, its life in the actual world as a human being, and its death, when the soul returns to Heaven. While these three worlds seem like an obvious way to divide one's life, these “worlds” are symbolic for B'nei Yisrael's life as a nation and how their relationship with God changes throughout the course of their life.

Looking at the first stage, when the embryo is developing, we see a striking resemblance to how B'nei Yisrael are connecting with God in the desert. While the embryo is developing, Chazal tell us (Nedarim 30b) that an angel is sent to teach the embryo every halakhah to the developing embryo. The embryo is also the Garden of Eden, and the embryo is promised that it will ultimately be admitted to the Garden of Eden if it leads a righteous. Looking at B'nei Yisrael in the desert, we see that this is exactly what God, through Moses is trying to do. Moses, especially in the Book of Leviticus, is giving B'nei Yisrael all of the commandments, promising them that, if they are righteous, they will continue to remain close to God — in other words, to enter the Garden of Eden, a land of paradise, just like Israel, which is a land “...flowing with milk and honey,” (Exodus 33:3), and a land in which “...you shall not lack anything in it, a land whose stones are iron and from whose hill you may mine brass” (Deuteronomy 8:9). Although it is hard to compare the two, both the Garden of Eden and Israel are places where B'nei Yisrael are close to God.

Looking at Rabbi Bechaye's second world, we see another parallel in Jewish history. After Moses's death in the Book of Deuteronomy, the Book of Joshua picks up immediately after Moses was mourned, Rashi comments on the words “Moses my servant has died,” (Joshua 1:2) saying that after Moses's death, 3000 laws were lost and never recovered. Just like a baby that is now beginning to meet the world on its own terms, so too are B'nei Yisrael entering a new world and trying survive without a direct connection to God. The angel, who is in charge of teaching an embryo Halakhah, must then erase everything that the embryo has learned before it enters the real world. (We see a number of parallels between this angel and Moses, namely, both were charged with educating B'nei Yisrael.) They no longer have Moses as a spiritual leader with a direct connection to God to immediately answer their questions, rather, they must enter the land and be able to fight their own battles and learn by themselves, without a mentor — Moses or the angel Gabriel — to guide them.

The third world, Rabbi Bechaye writes, is when the human dies and returns to Heaven. While this too has a parallel in Judaism, it does not correspond to an event that has occurred in history. This world represents the coming of the Messiah. While the previous two worlds are relatively short, this world is eternal. It is also when everything will be revealed, when the 3,000 laws as well as countless other works on Jewish law and philosophy, and we will, once again, have a direct connection to God.