Early Tisha be-Av

 Tisha beAv is unique among post-Mosaic fasts in that it lasts a full twenty-four (and-a-half) hours, from sunset until nightfall. But one aspect of it starts earlier: not studying Torah. Let’s consider the prohibitions of  9 Av, as recorded in the Talmud (Taanit 30a):

One must not eat, drink, anoint himself, wear shoes, or have sexual intercourse. The Torah, Prophets and Writings must not be read. The Mishna, Talmud and Midrash must not be studied, neither law nor lore…  one may read Job, Lamentations and the bad prophecies of Jeremiah, but the schoolchildren must be idle on that day, for it says, “God’s directives are upright; they make the heart rejoice” (Ps. 19).

However, this refers to 9 Av itself. What about the 8th? Let’s turn to the Rema, R. Moses Isserles, the Ashkenazi half of the Shulchan Arukh, specifically OC 553:2:

It is permitted to wash, anoint and to wear shoes until twilight… However, the custom has been not to study on the day preceding 9 Av from midday onwards, unless it is something permitted on 9 Av. Therefore if it falls on the Sabbath, one does not recite Ethics of the Fathers. Similarly, one should not loiter on the day preceding 9 Av.

So, even though one may eat until sunset, one must put down the Talmud at halakhic noon (which is usually closer to 1 PM, what with DST and all). Indeed, I remember well in camp how the books would slam shut at midday: no more hermeneutics of torts, ports and warts — it was time for sports! Surely, what better preparation for a full-day summertime fast could there be than running around chasing balls?

Indeed, this custom is so powerful that it trumps the Sabbath itself: though many have the custom to learn a chapter from the mishnaic tractate Avot (Ethics of the Fathers), 9 Av’s imminence trumps the eminence of Shabbat.

This is particularly astounding when we consider what the previous page of Talmud (Taanit 29a) tells us about the encounter between 9 Av and Shabbat. Of course, the fast is pushed off if they fall on the same day, but what of the Sabbath afternoon which immediately precedes the Fast of 9 Av (Observed)? The Rema tells us not to study Avot, but what of the traditional third meal?

If 9 Av falls on a Sabbath, or even if the eighth falls on a Sabbath, one may eat and drink whatever he chooses, and may place on his table even such viands as were eaten by Solomon while he was yet king.

So, you may eat your Beluga caviar, foie gras and venison, with a tankard of ale to your left and and a Burgundy glass of Pinot Noir to your right, but if you dare to talk about the weekly Torah portion, you are a sinner!

The problem, of course, is that people do not read that last line of the Rema’s ruling: “Similarly, one should not loiter on the day preceding 9 Av.” The term in Hebrew is tiyul, which has come in modern Hebrew to refer to hikes and school outings. However, that is not its original meaning, as we find it listed in OC 639:1 as one of the activities to be performed in one’s sukka. Certainly, an ad hoc dwelling in a booth/ hut/ tabernacle is no place for wide-ranging travels. Rather, the term refers to relaxing, hanging out, enjoying leisure time. You know, the sort of things that people do instead of studying Torah.

Why are people so eager to apply the first half of the Rema’s ruling? Perhaps there is a psychological element, the gotcha syndrome. There is something deliciously ironic about the Torah crying, in Carrollesque fashion, “Don’t read me!” on Tisha beAv. It reminds me of the monomaniacal obsession that grips some people when Passover begins on a Saturday night. We stop eating leaven by the late morning, and touching matza before the Seder is akin to deflowering one’s bride before leaving for the wedding hall, so with neither challa nor matza, how can we eat the third meal on Shabbat afternoon? Never mind that people are fine making do with a piece of cake, fruit, water or air on many a wintry Sabbath afternoon — now that Halakha says that we simultaneously must and mustn’t eat bread, the game is afoot.

So maybe we just don’t accept this ruling of the Rema. It wouldn’t be the first time. However, I like to turn to the words of the Chafetz Chayim (BH 553), who writes:

I am inclined to allow, even on a weekday, to study until near twilight, and were I not apprehensive of my colleagues, I would say that even on the day of 9 Av itself, we should be lenient; for in our great sins, the generations have become corrupted, and on the day of 9 Av they loiter in the streets and engage in idle chatter, and even those who are literate and some of the scholarly are lenient about this.

If this sage had lived another century and witnessed Instagram, Twitter and Facebook loitering, I think he would have overcome his apprehension.

3 strikes, yer (coming) out

Sometimes being well-versed isn't enough.
I've noticed in the two weeks since Obergefell came down, the opponents of the U.S. Supreme Court's ruling, at least those of the Jewish persuasion, have been changing up their tactics.
It's old hat to cite Lev. 18:22/ 20:13. After all, then one would have to admit that halakhically, all that prohibits is anal sex between males (as Hizkuni ad loc. notes, whetting one's sword would not be included). Also, one might have to admit that various commentators have read the verse differently, not just in modern times but a millennium (Rabbeinu Hananel ad loc.) or two (Bar Hamduri, Yevamot 83b) ago. Those readings may have more philosophical than legal implications, but they're still significant.
Instead, they rely on a trinity of exegetical passages, from the Talmud and Midrash. Let's see them:
#1: Midrash, Sifra, Aharei 9:8

I did not say this [prohibition] except for the statutes enacted by them, their fathers, and their father's fathers. And what would they do? A man would marry a man, a woman [would marry] a woman, a man would marry a woman and her daughter, and a woman would marry two men. Therefore it says, "and in their statutes do not follow" (Lev. 18:3).

In other words: Don't walk like an Egyptian. This is the source for forbidding lesbianism in Jewish law (Maimonides, Laws of Forbidden Relations 21:8). It is a lower-level prohibition than all the others in Chapter 18, the punishment only rabbinical. But what about for non-Jews? Maimonides does not mention it in his list of prohibitions for Noahides (Laws of Kings 9:7), but maybe it's implied by this source. After all, God seems to be criticizing Egypt for it. The only problem is that many of the relationships described in that chapter are perfectly fine for non-Jews. So perhaps the Sifra is highlighting the ones that are universally unacceptable, like polyandry and same-sex marriage? A fine thought, except in between them we have "a man would marry a woman and her daughter"--and a Noahide is allowed to marry his daughter-in-law. In fact, he's allowed to marry his own daughter. No, really, look it up. Traditional marriage, what can I say?
#2: Midrash, Genesis Rabba 5

"They took women of all they chose"--wives of [other] men; "of all they chose"--males and animals.
Rabbi Huna in the name of Rabbi said: The Generation of the Deluge was not wiped off the face of the Earth until they wrote gemumasiot for males and animals.
Said R. Simlai: Wherever you find promiscuity, collective punishment comes to the world and kills good and evil alike.

Gemumasiot are translated by some as ketubot, prenuptial documents (mainly based on source #3). Well, there you go. People start writing ketubot for gay weddings, and it's all over! But a ketuba is a marriage contract between two people--did people write one for a cow? And why use some bizarre foreign-sounding word instead of a famous Hebrew one for a Jewish concept?
Prof. Marcus Jastrow, in his authoritative Aramaic dictionary, points instead to Hymenaios, a rousing coupling song sung at weddings. Oh, and another volume of Midrash, Leviticus Rabba (23), has a slightly different version of this tradition.

Said R. Simlai: Wherever you find promiscuity, collective punishment comes to the world and kills good and evil alike.
Rabbi Huna said in the name of Rabbi Jose: The Generation of the Deluge was not wiped off the face of the Earth until they wrote gumasiot for males and females.

Not males and animals, but males and females. Suddenly, it's the bawdiness of the songs and the licentiousness it reflects which is at issue. Sir Mix-a-lot may yet kill us all.
#3: Talmud, Hullin 92a-b

"And I said to them: If ye think good, give me my hire; and if not, forbear. So they weighed out for my hire thirty pieces of silver" (Zech. 11:13). Said R. Judah: These are the thirty righteous men among the nations of the world by whose virtue the nations of the world continue to exist.
Ulla said: These are the thirty commandments which the sons of Noah took upon themselves but they observe three of them, namely (i) they do not draw up a prenuptial document for males, (ii) they do not weigh flesh of the dead in the market, and (iii) they respect the Torah.

Rabbi Ari Hart already wrote an excellent piece about this passage, and I heartily recommend it. I would just add that it is important to note how difficult it is to make lore into law. Ulla is trying to explain an obscure verse in Zechariah, and there are some striking differences between his conception of Noahide laws and the standard view, explored at length in the seventh chapter of Tractate Sanhedrin and codified by Maimonides.

1. Ulla has 30, 27 of which are unidentified, rather than 7.
2. Ulla says the nations "took upon themselves" these strictures, rather than being commanded by God.
3. Ulla lists commandments which have no equivalent among the 613 commandments incumbent upon Jews.
4. According to the Jerusalem Talmud (Avoda Zara 2:1), the thirty commandments are not what the Noahides accepted, but what they will accept in the future.

With all this in mind, it is very hard to try to formulate a comprehensive worldview based on Ulla's statement. But he sure doesn't like gay marriage, right?
Well, the first presumption is that Ulla is in fact talking about males who are marrying each other. It may be that he is simply talking about an arrangement in which wealthy females write prenups guaranteeing that they will support their poor husbands after death or divorce.
As Rashi reads it, it's a little bit more complicated. Gay prostitution is accepted in Ulla's locale, gay concubinage is accepted, but gay prenups go too far. Why would this be? A prenup seems to be quite technical. If the issue is making the relationship open, official and ordinary, why is concubinage fine? Concubines were publicly known, their children were recognized--that IS biblical marriage. Solomon's 300 concubines were not a secret.However, if one studies Ketubot, it becomes clear why the ketuba is so important: it is the bedrock of societal gender roles. A female goes from her father's house straight to her husband's house, but what maintains her after the latter's death or divorce? That is why the Rabbis instituted ketuba, to obviate the need for women to step into a man's world. They went so far as to say that any marriage without it was unacceptable. And thus, extending that to males would totally change the social order.
Ulla, as explained by Rashi, accepts the reality of anal sex between men and of that relationship being formalized. He just objects to extending rights, creating a sinecure for a gay paramour. If people really accepted Ulla's statement as halakha--and there are many compelling reasons not to--then their cry would be: sex, yes; marriage, yes; rights, no. Instead they claim the opposite position, as exemplified by Israeli Education Minister Naftali Bennett: “Rights, yes. Recognition, no.”
Ulla's exegesis is social commentary, which is why he points to socioeconomic mores, rather than the essential issues addressed by the Seven Noahide Laws. And when it comes to socioeconomic mores, I don't think we're in third-century Palestine anymore.
So would the sages of the Talmud and Midrash have celebrated this ruling? I highly doubt it. But if we want to figure out how we should react, we must do our due diligence and subject our sources to the strictest scrutiny.

Bitter Torah

---

The last hurrah--or perhaps I should say the last boo--of the Generation of the Exodus happens in this week's Torah portion (Num. 21:5):

The people spoke out against God and Moses, "Why did you take us out of Egypt to die in the desert? There is no bread and no water! We are getting disgusted with this flimsy bread!"

"This flimsy bread" is a reference to the manna. Rashi cites the tradition that the Israelites were alarmed by the manna's four-decade defiance of a law of nature, namely: Everybody poops.

They said: This manna will swell up their bowels, for none of woman born absorbs food without eliminating it too! (Talmud, Yoma 75b)

But that's the manna that the Israelites consumed. What happened to the manna that was not collected? The Torah tells us, "Then, when the sun became hot, it melted" (Exod. 16:21). The Midrash (Ancient Tanhuma, Beshallach 21-22) then picks up the story:

Zabdi ben Levi said. "Two thousand cubits of manna fell every day, and it would last through the fourth hour. When the sun shone upon the manna, it began to melt and formed rivulets upon rivulets flowing down... Once it formed rivulets, the nations of the world would come to drink of it, but it would become bitter and acrid in their mouths, as it says (Num. 11): 'The manna was like a bitter seed.' But for Israel it became like honey in their mouths, as it says (Exod. 16): 'And its taste was of a wafer in honey.'" Since the nations of the world could not drink of it, as it was bitter in their mouths, what would they do? They would hunt a gazelle which had drunk from it, and tasting in them the taste of the manna that came down for Israel, say: 'Blessed is the people who have it so.'"

This is a remarkable narrative. The manna would be wormwood to the non-Jewish palate if ingested "raw," but after being digested by the wildlife, it became delectable. Which is it, the bitter or the sweet?

This is not a technical question about a miraculous food from a three-millennia-old narrative. The manna, "bread from heaven," has great symbolism, as it represents the Torah. At the conclusion of Exodus 16, the story of the manna, a jar of it is ordered to be placed "before the Testimony," i.e. the Ark of Testimony, containing the shattered First Tablets, intact Second Tablets and eventually the first Torah scroll, written by Moses himself. Exodus 16 also has the first mention of "Sinai," as well as the term "My Torah": "I will make bread rain down to you from the sky. The people will go out and gather enough for each day. I will test them to see whether or not they will keep My Torah." Rabbi Simon bar Yohai puts it bluntly in the Mekhilta: "The Torah was given only to manna eaters."

So the question of how the manna tasted to non-Jews actually reflects dueling views of what Torah means for the outside world, nourishing or poisonous.This Midrash adopts both views: the Torah can be noxious to the nations of the world, but if it gets to them in the right way, they may appreciate its sweetness and benefit from it.

One week ago, the vandals who set fire to the Church of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fish at Tabgha, on the Sea of Galilee took the latter view to a vile and criminal extreme. The inscription they spray-painted, "And the false gods shall be utterly cut off," comes from the Aleinu prayer, traditionally attributed to Joshua at the fall of Jericho. In other words, this phrase expresses the views of the Israelites as they came into Canaan, a center of child sacrifice and other barbaric practices. To apply it to a house of faith which venerates Abraham, Moses and David is unacceptable. Isn't it time that we embrace the potential celebrated by the Midrash--that the taste of Torah and the Jewish tradition can sweeten and enrich all mankind, especially those of the Abrahamic faiths who share so much with us?

As a Jewish and democratic state, Israel must not fail to swiftly bring to justice the perpetrators, nor can it countenance any violence of this sort, regardless of the faith tradition of the victims. Unfortunately, 43 of these attacks against churches and mosques alike have been carried out since 2009, with not one person prosecuted. That would be an affront in any case; but the lesson of the manna makes it a religious affront as well. Do we really want the nations of the world to taste only the bitterness of the manna?

A plague with a penis is worth more than a treasure without

Are arakhin misogynistic? Leviticus 27, which we'll read this coming Shabbat, sets valuations by gender and age (vv. 3-7).

The valuation you are to assign to a man between the ages of twenty and sixty years is to be fifty shekels of silver, with the sanctuary shekel being the standard; if a woman, thirty shekels. If it is a child five to twenty years old, assign a valuation of twenty shekels for a boy and ten for a girl; if a baby one month to five years of age, five shekels for a boy and three for a girl; if a person past sixty, fifteen shekels for a man and ten for a woman.

This is not one's theoretical worth on the slave market (damim), which of course varies by training, intelligence and aptitude. Hezekiah (Talmud Arakhin 19a) famously states that "An old man in the house is a plague; an old woman in the house is a treasure" to explain why the relative gap narrows after age 60. (Rashi explicitly says that the former is "only a burden," while the latter "can work hard and labor in her old age.")
Yet the "plague" is still worth more (15 shekel) than the "treasure" (10). By stunning coincidence, the maximum valuation of a woman, 30 shekel, is the fine you pay if your ox gores a slave, male or female (Exodus 21:32). Yet the valuation of a male slave (or random non-Jew) is still more than that of a freeborn Jewish woman--50!
What makes this even more perplexing is that this is in the context of the Tabernacle, to which the money is given. The Torah explicitly states that both men and women took an active part in putting the Tabernacle together.

 Both men and women came, as many as had willing hearts; they brought nose-rings, earrings, signet-rings, belts, all kinds of gold jewelry... All the women who were skilled at spinning got to work and brought what they had spun, the blue, purple and scarlet yarn and the fine linen. Likewise the women whose heart stirred them to use their skill spun the goat’s hair... Thus every man and woman of the people of Israel whose heart impelled him to contribute to any of the work Lord had ordered through Moshe brought it to Lord as a voluntary offering.

So why does the "valuation of souls/ lives" (Lev. 27:2) make such a distinction and value judgement?

ApologetLag

Apologetics is hard. Arguing defensively for one's faith is always a dicey proposition, compounded by the fact that one is always fighting last generation's battle.
This was very clear to me growing up in 80s America in an Orthodox Jewish community. In 1985, we finally had an answer for the society of 1955. Now it's 2015, and we've come up with responses as fresh as 1985. (Sorry, as a child of the 80s, I can only think of time in Back to the Future settings.)

Hat, beard, peyos, jacket--1885 was such a mechayeh!

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the way contemporary halakhic Judaism grapples with homosexuality. Whenever religious Jews try to talk about gay issues, they end up sounding like recent arrivals from another era. Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) parties make no bones about it: they won't even put a female on their lists, as part of their commitment to 18th-century ideals.
But it's particularly irksome when you encounter some of the opinions offered by members of Bayit Yehudi, the Jewish Home Party, ostensibly representing the dati (translation: let's just go with the barely serviceable "Modern Orthodox") perspective. Party Leader Naftali Bennett, a moderate, explained that same-sex marriage is as kosher as a cheeseburger, while Rabbi Eli Ben Dahan, once (and future?) Deputy Minister of Religious Affairs called it "a recipe for the destruction of the Jewish people." Yehudit Shilat, director of the Takana Forum dedicated to helping victims of sexual abuse, has stated that since most homosexuals choose to be that way, "advancing the gay-lesbian agenda legislatively" leads to "collective suicide." Bezalel Smotrich reported that he now regrets organizing the Beast Parade in 2006 to compete with the Jerusalem Pride Parade, but he's still a self-identified "proud homophobe" (see, proud is gay-eh in Hebrew; get it?) who declared ("normal," in modern Hebrew, is a synonym for "sane" or "free of mental illness"):

Any person can decide he doesn't want to live a normal life. That's his right. But they don’t have the right — just because they are uncomfortable being abnormal — to demand of us all to redefine the norm and claim "there is no such thing as normal."

And that's not even getting into the mortifying video of Bayit Yehudi candidates responding to the issue of same-sex marriage.

While Shilat did not get into Knesset and the Jewish Home lost 1/3 of its seats, the others are now proudly serving. If two of Likud's current members move on and Amir Ohana, number 32 on the Likud list, takes his seat, I wonder how the gay Tel Aviv lawyer will be welcomed by his party's "natural partners" in the Jewish Home.
For a man who ran on a platform of "No apologies," Bennett surely seemed apologetic when presenting his offer to the LGBT community, "Rights, yes. Recognition, no." He talked about how much he loves all Jews, even the gay ones, and how he served alongside them, but "Look, I've got a kipa on my head! Formalistic Judaism does not recognize same sex-marriage."
I might note that formalistic Judaism does not recognize weddings performed in Cyprus either, but I digress. What does formalistic Judaism actually say? And since it looks like the Jewish Home will, almost against its will, accept the Education Ministry, what will they teach?
It all starts with that perplexing pair of verses in Leviticus, 18:22 and 20:13, which we read yesterday in Israel and will be read by Jews abroad this week, prohibiting and penalizing "bedding a male the beddings of a woman." What exactly that means on the literal level is unclear, as I wrote two years ago (Rabbeinu Hananel seems to have suggested the same thing a thousand years ago), but halakhically it definitely forbids anal sex between men. But what if they're not men?

They must both be stoned if they are both adults, as it states: "Do not bed a man," whether he is the active or passive partner.
If a minor of nine years and a day or more is involved, the man who enters into relations or has the minor enter into relations with him should be stoned and the minor is not liable.
If the male [minor] was less than nine years old, they are both free of liability.
(Maimonides, Laws of Forbidden Relations 1:14)
 

Here is where the apologeticists' heads explode. You see, they love to explain how the severe penalties for sex between men is really about pedophilia, launching into lusty descriptions of Greek culture. But the fact is that by Torah law, a man having consensual sex with an adult is liable to the death penalty, but one raping an eight-year-old gets off scot-free. This is explicitly laid out in the Talmud, Sanhedrin 54b. Maimonides himself seems bothered by this, so he concludes:

It is, however, appropriate for the court to subject the adult to lashing for rebellious conduct for homosexual relations although his companion was less than nine years old.

Well, that's something. Except of course that the Hinukh, a comprehensive listing of the 613 commandments based on Maimonides' count, thinks another party should be subject to lashing:

If one was a minor below thirteen years and a day, but above nine years and a day, the adult is stoned whether he was the active or passive partner, while the minor is biblically exempt but lashed by rabbinical law.

So, Naftali, I wear a kipa too. And if I lived in a Jewish state that followed this ruling, I would do everything in my power to burn it to the ground. I guess the question is when you're willing to apply the rule promulgated in the last line of the first tractate of the Mishna, Berachot (9:5):

And it says, “It is time to act for God, they have nullified your Torah.” (Psalms 119:126) Rabbi Nathan says, “'They nullified your Torah' – because it is time to act for God.”

The best way to avoid apologetics is to have nothing to apologize for in the first place.

My Rebbe is gone

This morning, we lost one of the greatest Torah minds of our generation, Rabbi Dr. Aharon Lichtenstein, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion, PhD in English Literature from Harvard, winner of the Israel Prize for Jewish Literature last Yom HaAtzmaut.

Studying under Rav Aharon and his fellow Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yehuda Amital (who passed away in 2010), was one of the greatest privileges of my life. It seems like yesterday that I was sitting in the moadon, the gazebo where he gave shiur, waiting for the lesson to begin, wondering if I prepared the sources properly with my havruta (study partner), trying to anticipate what paths this once-in-a-generation scholar would lead us down.

In particular, I recall how, nineteen years ago, we were studying the third chapter of Ketubot, dealing with some of the most dense, complex and sensitive topics of sexuality in the Talmud. We had reached folio 39a, which at its top deals with the contraceptive device known as mookh.  Rav Aharon was ready to go on to the next mishna, but I begged, “Rebbe, what about mookh?” “Ah, mookh,” he replied, and then launched into a meticulous analysis of the varying opinions, the parallel passages, the practical conclusions. All that was at his fingertips.

And yet he never relied on his superior memory. Many a time and oft he could be found at his makom, his modest seat at the front of the beit midrash (study hall), poring over another well-worn volume from his library, taking notes, stacking them one after another. Still it’s a wonder that he managed to get anything done there, as there were often students waiting to consult him on all manner of theological, halakhic and personal matters. Some were teenagers, some were middle-aged, but it was Rav Aharon’s way to help you find the answer (or at least refine the question) for yourself. He never sought to be an oracle; his only goal was to teach, to inspire, to challenge.

The first and wisest of them all professed
To know this only, that he nothing knew.
JOHN MILTON, Paradise Regained

And those were challenging times. After Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated on 4 November, 1995, Rav Aharon led us to pay our respects amid the long line of mourners. Then he delivered a blistering three-hour tour-de-force of a lecture, demolishing the twisted interpretation of Jewish law that had led a former yeshiva student to murder the prime minister while asking the troubling questions of how such a person could come from our midst. Exactly four months later, on the Fast of Esther, Rav Aharon cut short another lecture when he learned of the Dizengoff Center suicide bombing, saying: “This is the time for prayer, not study.” Five years later, when I was injured in the Sbarro suicide bombing in Jerusalem, Rav Aharon called me personally to check on me.

And now my rebbe is gone. Anything I can utter will pale in comparison to what his learned children and students will say tomorrow. Besides, we don’t eulogize on the New Moon, so instead I will offer a small devar Torah.

Today is 1 Iyar, the first day of the second month. It is a prominent date in the Hebrew calendar. This is how the Book of Numbers, which we’ll start reading later this month, opens:

Lord spoke to Moshe in the Sinai Desert, in the tent of meeting, on the first day of the second month of the second year after they had left the land of Egypt. He said, “Take a census of the entire assembly of the people of Israel, by clans and families. Record the names of all the men twenty years old and over who are subject to military service in Israel. Enumerate them company by company, you and Aharon.”

Aharon the Priest is explicitly included in this command. And yet when it comes time to count his own tribe, the Levites, the Talmud (Bekhorot 4a) tells us that “Aharon was not in that counting.” Malbim (Num. 3:39) explains that Aharon had a special mission among the Levites: speaking to the firstborn among them.

At this point in the desert, the holy duties of the firstborn are transferred to the Levites (3:6-12), as God says: “Summon the tribe of Levi, and assign them to Aharon the Priest… I have taken the Levites from among the people of Israel in lieu of every firstborn… All the firstborn belong to me, because on the day that I smote all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, I separated for myself all the firstborn in Israel.”

The Levites replace the firstborn–but what about the Levites who were firstborn as well? Aharon was to help them “redeem themselves”–since he too was a firstborn Levite! (See Rashi and Tosafot ad loc.). Now, what did this mean practically? These individuals were holy regardless, either as firstborn or as Levites, so why was there a formal ceremony to redeem themselves? This indicates that as important as the “what” and “how” are in Judaism, the “why” and “wherefore” are equally significant. Aharon’s mission was to teach the firstborn Levites to see a new aspect of their identity, to realize the multiple worlds they held in their souls.

If Rav Aharon taught us, his students, anything it was to see the complexity of humanity and the world. There are always multiple facets, and we must strive to reveal them.

May his memory be a blessing.

Bless You

The most well-worn pages of our Haggadot are those in the section known as “Barech.” After the Seder night, we have no pressing need for the text of “Dayenu” or “Chad Gadya,” but we still have to say Birkat HaMazon, and as our leavened year-round birkonim have been put away, we pull out our Haggadot. After all, the version we say at the Seder is almost identical to what we say throughout the holiday week—with one exception. Many have the custom, as cited by the Aruch HaShulchan (O.C. 479:2), to say an extended HaRachaman, praying for “a day which is fully long, a day when the righteous sit, with crowns on their heads, enjoying the glow of the Divine Presence (Shechina).”
The first part of this insertion is a variation on a theme we know well. Every Shabbat and Yom Tov, we add a HaRachaman that makes reference to Olam HaBa, the World to Come; in each case, it is, essentially, a play on words, as in Midrashic sources, Olam HaBa is referred to as “a day which is fully restful (shabbat)” (Tamid 7:4, et al.) and “fully good (tov)” (Kiddushin 39b, et al). Thus, on the day of Shabbat, we admit that the true Shabbat is elsewhere, and on Yom Tov, literally “a day of good,” we admit that true good is elsewhere. Olam HaBa is also referred to as “fully long” (ibid), or eternal. However, we have already said the regular formula for Yom Tov, so what does this reference add? After all, if any holiday if called “The Long Day,” it is not Pesach, but Rosh HaShana!
Furthermore, what is the reference in the second part of this special HaRachaman? It seems to come from Rav’s famous statement (Berachot 17a): “The World to Come has neither eating nor drinking... rather, the righteous sit, with crowns on their heads, enjoying the glow of the Shechina.” As such, it seems quite out of place at the Seder—is there any meal in the Jewish calendar which involves more eating and drinking? Are we begging God to relocate us to a world where we won’t have to eat so much matza and drink so many cups of wine?
It seems that in order to understand this HaRachaman, we must reverse our hypothesis. We have assumed that it is connected to the day, and its placement within Birkat HaMazon is coincidental; this is, after all, the template for the ones we recite for Shabbat, Yom Tov, Sukkot, Rosh Chodesh and Rosh HaShana. But what if we were to start from the opposite point of view: that this HaRachaman is essentially connected to Birkat HaMazon, and its recitation on the Seder night is coincidental. This would indicate that there is something unique about this meal as a meal—but what could that be?
Let us return to the three-word source for Birkat HaMazon in the Torah (Devarim 8:10): “Ve-achalta, ve-savata u-verachta,” “You will eat, you will be satisfied, and you will bless.” The Written Torah spells out an obligation only in the case where one has eaten enough to be fully satiated; the Oral Torah expands this to specific amounts, and very small ones at that. In fact, this is God’s response in a beautiful legend in Talmud Berachot (20b). The angels accuse God of being partial to the Jewish people, to which He responds: “How can I not show favor to Israel? I wrote for them in the Torah, ‘You will eat, you will be satisfied, and you will bless Lord, your God,’ but they are so exacting upon themselves, even for an olive’s volume [of bread], even for an egg’s!”
In fact, for every meal we have throughout the year, whether for a mitzva or just for sustenance, we don’t even consider the issue of satisfaction, merely measuring the minimum amount. There is, however, one meal in which we cannot stop until we have fulfilled “ve-savata”—the Seder. We must eat our afikoman, our final portion of matza, which parallels the actual piece of the paschal sacrifice which our ancestors would eat, “al ha-sova,” being satiated. This is the one time when the entire nation fulfills the mitzva of Birkat HaMazon in its most literal sense.
With this in mind, we may return to our HaRachaman. It points out that the long meal of the Seder, where we literally drink and eat our fill, is only a reflection of the true sova, the ultimate satisfaction of being in God’s Presence. Thus, our proper fulfillment of the mitzvot of the Seder night allows us not only to reenact the Exodus, but to reconnect to those practices which define every day of our lives as Jews.