באדיבות ישיבת הכותל
היחס בין שני הפסוקים
"הַלְלוּ אֶת ה' כָּל גּוֹיִם שַׁבְּחוּהוּ כָּל הָאֻמִּים. כִּי גָבַר עָלֵינוּ חַסְדּוֹ וֶאֱמֶת ה' לְעוֹלָם הַלְלוּ יָהּ" (תהילים קי"ז, א-ב)
תלמוד בבלי מסכת פסחים דף קיח עמוד ב
אמר רב כהנא: כשחלה רבי ישמעאל ברבי יוסי שלח לו רבי: אמור לנו שנים ושלשה דברים שאמרת לנו משום אביך.
שלח לו, כך אמר אבא: מאי דכתיב [=מהו שכתוב]: "הללו את ה' כל גוים" (תהלים קי"ז, א)?
אומות העולם מאי עבידתייהו [=למה הם צריכים לשבח ש"גבר עלינו חסדו"]?
הכי קאמר [=כך הוא אומר]: הללו את ה' כל גוים - אגבורות ונפלאות דעביד בהדייהו [=על הגבורות והנפלאות שעשה להם], כל שכן אנו דגבר עלינו חסדו.
לעיון בפוסט של הרב אלחנן סמט העוסק גם הוא בשאלת היחס שבין שני הפסוקים
למי הארץ?
"הַשָּׁמַיִם שָׁמַיִם לַה' וְהָאָרֶץ נָתַן לִבְנֵי אָדָם" (תהילים קט"ו, טז)
תלמוד בבלי מסכת ברכות דף לה עמוד א
רבי לוי רמי [הקשה]: כתיב "לה' הארץ ומלואה" (תהלים כ"ד, א), וכתיב: "השמים שמים לה' והארץ נתן לבני אדם" (תהלים קט"ו, טז)
לא קשיא,
כאן - קודם ברכה [על האוכל],
כאן - לאחר ברכה.
צדיקים יבואו בו
"זֶה הַשַּׁעַר לַה' צַדִּיקִים יָבֹאוּ בוֹ" (תהילים קי"ח, כ)
ספרא אחרי מות פרשה ט
"אשר יעשה אותם" (ויקרא י"ח, ה) -
היה רבי ירמיה אומר: אתה אומר מנין אפילו גוי ועושה את התורה הרי הוא ככהן גדול? תלמוד לומר "אשר יעשה אותם האדם וחי בהם" (ויקרא י"ח, ה),
וכן הוא אומר "וזאת תורת", הכהנים והלויים וישראל לא נאמר כאן אלא "וזאת תורת האדם ה' אלהים" (שמואל ב ז', יט),
וכן הוא אומר: "פתחו שערים ויבא", כהנים ולויים וישראלים לא נאמר אלא "ויבא גוי צדיק שומר אמונים" (ישעיהו כ"ו, ב),
וכן הוא אומר: "זה השער לה'", כהנים לווים וישראלים לא נאמר אלא "צדיקים יבאו בו" (תהילים קי"ח, כ),
וכן הוא אומר "רננו", כהנים לויים ישראלים לא נאמר כאן אלא "רננו צדיקים בה'" (תהילים ל"ג, א),
וכן הוא אומר "הטיבה ה'", לכהנים ללויים לישראלים לא נאמר כאן אלא "הטיבה ה' לטובים" (תהילים קכ"ה, ד).
הא אפילו גוי ועושה את התורה הרי הוא ככהן גדול.
ספרא - מדרש תנאים לספר ויקרא מבית מדרשו של רבי עקיבא. המדרש מפרש את הפסוקים לפי סדרם. נערך בארץ ישראל במאה השלישית. ( מתוך: ע' רייזל, מבוא למדרשים, מכללת הרצוג תשע"א)
"The Perfection of Beauty:" The Symbolism of Jerusalem and Eretz Yisrael
Based on a sicha by Harav Aharon Lichtenstein zt"l (adapted by Matan Glidai and translated by Kaeren Fish)
The book of Tehillim (48:3) describes Jerusalem as being "of panoramic beauty; the joy of the whole world." This relates to two aspects of the city. The "panoramic beauty" expresses its esthetic splendor, while the "joy" describes our experience of Jerusalem. Similarly, the book of Eikha (2:15) mentions these two aspects when lamenting the destruction of Jerusalem: "Is this the city that was called 'the perfection of beauty,' 'the joy of the whole world'?"
The beauty of Jerusalem is itself twofold. On the one hand, its beauty reflects its national status: Jerusalem is the center of the Davidic Kingdom. Royalty, of course, is related to grandeur and beauty: "Your eyes will behold the king in his beauty" (Yishayahu 33:7). On the other hand, the beauty of Jerusalem is also a reflection of its holiness, as the seat of the Shekhina. Although the Shekhina is awe-inspiring, it is also a complex symbol of beauty: "Grandeur is before Him; might and splendor are in His Temple."
The experiential aspect of Jerusalem, its being "the joy of the whole world," likewise is multifaceted. Jerusalem is the seat of happiness and joy because it is the seat of the Shekhina, as well as the center to which Am Yisrael gather. "One who has not seen the joy of Simchat Beit Ha-Shoeva (the water-drawing ceremony of Sukkot at the Temple) has never seen true joy." This joy arises both from the contact with the Shekhina, as well as from the assembly of the nation. Jerusalem, then, embodies the splendor, the light and the holiness that are the pinnacle of our lives and that draw us out of everyday routine. It adds a dimension of depth to our existence.
In listing the ten levels of holiness related to place, the Mishna in Kelim lists Jerusalem as its own category, in between the holiness of the Temple and the holiness of Eretz Yisrael. We would expect, then, that Jerusalem would embody not only its own special holiness, but also that of Eretz Yisrael - but in greater force.
In several places in the Torah, Eretz Yisrael is referred to as a "land flowing with milk and honey." Milk is a symbol of naturalness: it is a basic substance that every person imbibes at birth. Honey, in contrast, represents something more special; it is beyond routine and naturalness. Correspondingly, as noted above, Jerusalem has elements that are like honey: a deepening and enriching of our lives, an additional dimension to our everyday existence. But Jerusalem also has aspects of "milk": there is something basic and fundamental to it; we cannot describe Eretz Yisrael without Jerusalem. It is not only an addition and a deepening, but also something fundamental and indispensable. All of the prophecies and lamentations over the destruction emphasize the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple to the almost complete exclusion of the rest of the country.
Jerusalem, then, contains two contradictory themes: something fundamental and solid, and something precious and special. These two elements are able to coexist. The Gemara (Yoma 54) explains that "even ha-shetiya," the "foundation stone" upon which the Temple was built, was named thus because the world rests upon it. Thereafter the Gemara notes that the world was created from Jerusalem, as it is written: "From Zion, from the composition of beauty" means that "From Zion is the beauty of the world composed." Thus, Jerusalem represents both the foundation of the world – the fundamental existence of the world was created from it – and also the source of all the beauty and splendor of the world. Jerusalem is both the foundation and the spires of the palace that is our world.
The verse, "Honey and milk are under your tongue" (Shir ha-Shirirm 4:1), is explained by Chazal as referring to Torah, and we may relate this dual image of honey and milk to holiness in general. Holiness is both something wonderful and rich, and also a fundamental dimension that is integral to our lives. A life devoid of holiness is a life that is empty of substance and meaning. Holiness is both the basis and foundation of our life, and also the lofty height to which we strive.
Thus, this dual nature - both foundation as well as pinnacle of aspiration - characterizes Eretz Yisrael, Jerusalem, and all holiness in general. May we realize both meanings in our lives.
(This sicha was delivered on Yom Yerushalayim 5756 [1996].)
This shiur is provided courtesy of the Virtual Beit Midrash of Yeshivat Har Etzion - www.etzion.org.il
מדוע זכה יהודה למלכות?
"בְּצֵאת יִשְׂרָאֵל מִמִּצְרָיִם בֵּית יַעֲקֹב מֵעַם לֹעֵז, הָיְתָה יְהוּדָה לְקָדְשׁוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל מַמְשְׁלוֹתָיו" (תהילים קי"ד, א-ב)
מכילתא דרבי ישמעאל בשלח - מסכתא דויהי פרשה ה ד"ה ויבאו בני
אמרו לו: רבי למדנו, באי זו זכות זכה יהודה למלכות?
אמר להם: כשעמדו שבטים על הים, זה אומר איני יורד תחלה וזה אומר איני יורד תחלה, שנאמר: "סבבוני בכחש אפרים וגו'" (הושע י"ב, א). מתוך שהיו נוטלין עצה אלו ואלו קפץ נחשון בן עמינדב ושבטו אחריו לתוך גלי הים לפיכך זכה למלכות, שנאמר: "בצאת ישראל ממצרים בית יעקב מעם לועז היתה יהודה לקדשו" לכך "ישראל ממשלותיו" (תהלים קי"ד, א-ב).
אמר להם הקדוש ברוך הוא: מי שקדש שמי על הים יבא וימשול על ישראל.
מכילתא דרבי ישמעאל - מדרש תנאים לספר שמות, מבית מדרשו של רבי ישמעאל. המדרש מפרש הן את החלקים ההלכתיים והן את שאר הפסוקים בחומש ומכיל דברי אגדה רבים. המדרש עוסק רק ב12 פרקים מתוך 40 פרקי ספר שמות. המדרש מחולק לתשע מסכתות. (מתוך: ע' רייזל, מבוא למדרשים, מכללת הרצוג תשע"א)
Helping the Needy While Preparing the Omer for Shavuot
Parashat Emor is well known for its containing the "parashat ha-mo'adim," the section dealing with the festivals. In concluding its discussion here of the festival of Shavuot (23:22), the Torah reiterates the obligations of "leket" and "pei'a," various portions of one's field that he must leave for the poor. Those who paid attention this past Shabbat know that we already encountered these mitzvot in Parashat Kedoshim (19:9). Rav Moshe Feinstein suggests that these two references to these mitzvot signify two distinct aspects of the obligation. In Parashat Kedoshim, the Torah seeks to implant within the farmer's consciousness a keen awareness of his limited ownership over his property. By allocating specific portions to the poor, the farmer expresses his acknowledgment of the Almighty as the true owner of "his" field, or, more accurately, the field that he is granted the right to till. In our context in Parashat Emor, the Torah presents two mitzvot directed towards the same purpose: the "omer" offering, brought from the first harvest on the sixteenth of Nissan, and the "korban shetei ha-lechem," the bread offering brought on Shavuot. One may have thought to exempt the field that provided the grain for these offerings from the obligations of "leket" and "pei'a," as the purpose of these mitzvot have already been fulfilled. The Torah therefore introduces here a second element: the interest in helping those in need. Even fields regarding which the owner has already demonstrated his awareness of God's authority require "leket" and "pei'a," in order to help the underprivileged of society.
In essence, these two elements of this mitzva reflect the central, most general themes of our receiving of the Torah, which we commemorate on Shavuot. The Torah demands two forms of devotion and self-sacrifice: to the Almighty, as it were, and to others. Certain mitzvot help no one but the performer himself, reinforcing his sense of submission to his Creator. The second category of mitzvot are those that directly benefit others. Through them, the individual expresses his appreciation of the roles played by those around him. On Shavuot, then, we reaffirm both these commitments, to sharpening our humble acceptance of the yoke of Heaven and heightening our sensitivity towards the needs of others.
Courtesy of Yeshivat Har Etzion - www.etzion.org.il
Ibn Kaspi: Does the Torah Cultivate Sensitivity?
Parashat Emor features the prohibition against slaughtering an animal and its young on the same day (22:28). Most (or at least many) classical commentators understood this prohibition as intended to engender a sense of compassion within an individual. The Torah issues a number of guidelines forbidding causing unnecessary trauma to animals, so that a person will develop within his persona the qualities of sensitivity and compassion. This general theme is articulated most famously, perhaps, by the Ramban, in his discussion of the obligation of shilu'ach ha-kein – to send away a bird before taking its eggs (Devarim 22:6-7).
Yosef Ibn Kaspi (as cited by Professor Nechama Leibowitz), in his commentary to the verses concerning shilu'ach ha-kein, develops the concept underlying these mitzvot in a slightly different direction. In his view, these guidelines are intended primarily to engender a sense of humility within the individual, to remind him that he is but a part of the earth's natural order, that he is one of many of God's creatures, with a limited degree of control in His world. As Ibn Kaspi demonstrates, the Torah demands that a person treat all the earth's creatures and elements with a degree of respect and concern, and the degree of respect and concern required depends on the given entity's classification with respect to human beings. At the highest level, the Torah demands that one treat all human beings with care and respect, including one's foes and those who are beneath him on the social or even moral scale. It is forbidden to cause unnecessary harm to any person, regardless of his ethical or religious stature. At the next level, the Torah demands a degree of sensitivity in one's treatment of animals. Of course, one need not treat animals with the same level of care demanded when dealing with other human beings. The Torah allows killing certain animals for food and clothing, and using animals for transportation and difficult labor. Still, laws such as shilu'ach ha-kein ensure a degree of sensitivity when dealing with animals. Moving one rung lower, the Torah requires that care be taken even in our handling of plants, forbidding the unnecessary destruction of edible vegetation (Devarim 20:19). Finally, a small degree of sensitivity is required even in our treatment of the earth itself, as we are bidden to let the land lie fallow once in seven years.
The theme underlying this system, Ibn Kaspi contends, is the perspective that sees man as representing but one class – albeit the supreme class – within the natural order. Had we been granted unlimited access to the animal kingdom and natural resources, an exaggerated sense of control and dominion would overtake us which could easily infringe upon our humble submission to God. The Torah therefore imposed a system that sets limits on our control of the earth's resources, reminding us that we, too, are but creatures on God's earth, and we do not enjoy the degree of power and authority that we might otherwise feel.
Courtesy of Yeshivat Har Etzion - www.etzion.org.il
Why does Mitzvah Sukkot Apply to Everyone?
The Torah in Parashat Emor issues the command to reside in a sukka during the seven-day holiday of Sukkot: “You shall reside in sukkot for seven days; every citizen of Yisrael shall reside in sukkot” (23:42).
The Netziv, in his Ha’amek Davar commentary, offers an insightful explanation for the why the Torah emphasizes that this mitzva applies equally to “kol ha-ezrach be-Yisrael” – “every citizen of Yisrael.” Sukkot is known as the “chag ha-asif,” as it celebrates the completion of the gathering of the harvested produce. The process of harvesting begins in the spring, and at the end of the summer, the farmer completes the work of collecting and storing his grain. The mitzva of sukka, as the Netziv (among many others) explains, is intended to remind the farmer, who feels content and gratified over the large amounts of produce in his warehouse, that he is but a “foreign resident” in God’s land. As the Netziv writes: “The purpose of the mitzva, on the level of peshat, is that one leaves his permanent residence into a temporary residence in order for those who have collected their produce to be aware that they are still only like foreigners, and not permanent residents.” As such, one might have concluded that a poor person who does not own land – in the Netziv’s words, the “ani ha-nodeid” (“wandering poor man”) – is not included in this mitzva. He is assuredly mindful of his status as a “foreigner.” People lacking financial security and whose lives are unstable are well aware of their dependence on God, and can never make the mistake of viewing themselves as masters over the land. The Torah must therefore emphasize that “kol ha-ezrach be-Yisrael yeishvu ba-sukkot,” that even the “ani ha-nodeid” must reside in a sukka during this holiday.
The question naturally becomes as why this is the case. If, as the Netziv claims, the mitzva of sukka is aimed at reminding the wealthy landowners of their status of transience in God’s world, then why does it apply to even to downtrodden, helpless paupers?
The answer, the Netziv explains, is provided in the very next verse: “In order that your future generations shall know that I had the Israelites reside in sukkot when I took them from Egypt.” This is commonly understood as explaining the reason for the entire mitzva of sukka, but according to the Netziv, on the level of peshat, it refers specifically to the application of this mitzva to the poor. He explains:
In order that they not despair from living a good life even if they do not own land or experience natural joy, they will learn from the mitzva of sukka, for they will remember their residence in sukkot when God took them [from Egypt]…and they nevertheless experienced immense joy. And, [as the verse concludes,] “I am the Lord your God” – who leads and watches over you always, and there is nothing that can prevent Him from bestowing goodness and blessing, even without ownership over land.
According to the Netziv, the commemorative aspect of sukka, as reminding us of the experience in the wilderness, is intended specifically for the poor. They are to be shown how Benei Yisrael enjoyed contentment and happiness even when traveling through an uninhabitable wilderness without food or water. God can provide our needs under all conditions and all circumstances, and thus we have no reason to feel anxious or despondent when our material conditions fall short of our aspirations. The message of the sukka is that joy need not and must not be contingent upon material prosperity, or even on financial security. Even the “ani ha-nodeid” must rejoice on Sukkot, as he contemplates the experience of our ancestors in the wilderness which demonstrates God’s ability to care for us and provide our needs under all circumstances.
Don't Respond Rashly: Moshe's Measured Approach to the Blasphemer
Parashat Emor concludes with the incident of the megadef, the individual who publicly blasphemed God, for which he was sentenced to execution. The Torah relates that the blasphemer was first held in custody as Moshe awaited God’s instructions how to proceed, and God indeed spoke to Moshe and commanded that the violator be executed (24:12-14).
Various reasons have been suggested for why Moshe – who presumably was aware of the fact that blasphemy is regarded as a capital crime – waited for an explicit directive from God before issuing the sentence. One explanation, suggested by Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg in his Yalkut Yehuda, has to do with the fact that the megadef was an Egyptian who had joined Benei Yisrael. Moshe thought that the capital sentence should perhaps be suspended in order to avoid the impression that it was the result of Benei Yisrael’s contempt for foreigners and outsiders. Knowing how strongly the Torah emphasizes the proper treatment of foreigners, Moshe hesitated and was not prepared to issue the death sentence until he received God’s clear instruction. Although the culprit’s guilt was clearly determined, Moshe was reluctant to issue the sentence out of concern for how it might be misperceived.
Moshe’s hesitation perhaps provides us with important guidance to be followed even now, when we do not have a system of corporal and capital punishment. Often the need arises to protest and decry improper behavior or other kinds of “blasphemy.” Moshe’s reluctance to sentence the megadef might demonstrate the need to carefully consider the potential results of protest and condemnation, including its effect on our nation’s image in the eyes of others. As in the case of the megadef, it may indeed be determined that condemnation is warranted and appropriate under the circumstances. But nevertheless, Moshe’s hesitation reminds us that the decision to make public protests must be taken patiently and carefully, with a keen sensitivity to their potential repercussions and possible impact upon our image and reputation. In short, not everything worthy of protest should in fact be protested. At times, overriding concerns and considerations warrant keeping silent and avoiding controversy even in the face of “blasphemy.”