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Exodus: Challenge in Exile

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On one hand, people shy away from challenges. There is a danger of failure were there not, it would not be a challenge and no one likes to fail. On the other hand, we seek challenge, for confronting a challenge lifts us out of the doldrums of ordinary experience.

Similar concepts apply with regard to our Divine service. G-d does not want our Divine service to be merely routine. And so, He presents us with challenges. Some of these challenges are limited in scope, and some are more daunting, forcing us to summon up our deepest resources.

This is the nature of the challenge of exile. During the Era of the Beis HaMikdash, the open revelation of G-dliness inspired Jews to serve G-d with heightened feeling and intent. In the era of exile, by contrast, G-dliness is hidden, and we are presented with many obstacles to our observance of the Torah and its mitzvos. We can no longer rely on our environment to deepen our feeling for G-dliness. Instead, our focus must become internal. In this manner, exile arouses our deepest spiritual resources, and strengthens our connection to G-d.

-Rabbi Eli Touger
In the Garden of the Torah
“Challenge, Growth, and Transition”
Commentary on Torah Portion Exodus
Adapted from
Likkutei Sichos, Vol. III, 843ff; Vol. XVI, p. 36ff;
Vol. XXVI, p. 301ff;
Sefer HaSichos 5751, p. 240ff
Chabad.org

In yesterday’s morning meditation, I wrote about some of the challenges of serving God, particularly in how Christians and Jews differ in understanding such service. I also talked about some of the things a Christian can learn about serving God from a Jew, such as preparing our souls to perform a deed in His Name, and approaching such a deed with awe and fear of our Creator.

In today’s commentary on the Torah Portion, we see that God sometimes presents challenges to our service, so we don’t become lazy and complacent. After all, how many religious people advance just so far in their faith and then “rest on their laurels” so to speak? Probably a lot. Could that describe you for certain parts of your spiritual life? Have you ever suddenly faced inconvenient and troubling problems just when you thought you had your life together? Did you ever cry out to God, “Why are you doing this to me?” Maybe this is the answer.

But what does any of this have to do with this week’s Torah reading and the beginning of the Book of Exodus? Let’s continue with Rabbi Touger’s commentary.

These concepts are reflected in our Torah reading, which describes the successive descents experienced by the Jewish people in Egypt. As long as Yosef and his brothers lived, the Jews enjoyed prosperity and security. But with the death of the last of Yaakov’s sons came forced labor, the casting of Jewish infants into the Nile, and other acts of cruelty. Even after Moshe brought the promise of redemption, the oppression of the Jewish people worsened, to the extent that Moshe himself cried out: “Since I came to Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has done evil to this people.”

Nevertheless, the Torah reading also tells how the Jews cried out to G-d, awakening His attention. In response, G-d conveyed the promise of Redemption and His pledge that, “when you take this people out of Egypt, you will serve G-d on this mountain,” i.e., G-d committed Himself to give the Jews the Torah. This revealed the possibility of a higher and deeper bond with G-d than could have been reached before.

There’s a lot going on here that answers our questions. For the first forty years of his life, Moses experienced relative ease as a “Prince of Egypt” (much like Joseph before him) while his brothers and sisters labored as slaves. The next forty years, he labored as a simple shepherd, but life was still good and without undo complications as Moses married and raised a family and lived a meager but satisfying existence. Then came God and His challenge, and the life of Moses was thrown into turmoil.

Then Moses returned to the Lord and said, “O Lord, why did You bring harm upon this people? Why did You send me? Ever since I came to Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has dealt worse with this people; and still You have not delivered Your people.” –Genesis 5:22-23 (JPS Tanakh)

While Moses was closer to God than he had ever been in his life up to this point, he was also extremely upset, frustrated, and miserable. Everything he had done to try and help his people had blown up in his face. Things were worse for the Children of Israel than they had been before Moses showed up at the behest of God. When we are serving God, we usually expect things to get better right away. For Moses, they didn’t. They don’t always get better for us right away, either. Even when God says:

Then the Lord said to Moses, “You shall soon see what I will do to Pharaoh: he shall let them go because of a greater might; indeed, because of a greater might he shall drive them from his land.” –Exodus 6:1 (JPS Tanakh)

In theory, we know we should trust God completely and whatever He says He will do, He will do. On a very human level however, we tend to have doubts, especially when we feel like we’re up to our neck in hot water, or in Moses’ case, up to his neck in angry and beaten down kinsmen. We can feel trapped in such situations and even lost.

One of the unique challenges we have as believers is the challenge that the Children of Israel had in the time between Joseph and Moses. Both of these men are considered “Messianic” figures in relation to their people and the world and during their lifetimes, both provided rescue and safety (though perhaps not in an absolute sense) for God’s chosen ones. Rabbi Touger explains it this way.

The cycle of Jewish exile and redemption is significant for the world at large. The purpose of creation is to establish a dwelling for G-d. This dwelling is fashioned by the involvement of the Jewish people in different aspects of worldly experience. During exile, the Jews are scattered into different lands and brought into contact with diverse cultures. As such, as the challenge of exile brings the Jews to a deeper connection with G-d, it also elevates their surroundings, making manifest the G-dliness which permeates our world.

The saga of exile and redemption is not merely a story of the past. On the contrary, heralds of the final transition from exile and redemption are affecting all dimensions of existence today. To borrow an expression from the Previous Rebbe: “Everything is ready for the Redemption; even the buttons have been polished.” All that is necessary is that we open our eyes, recognize Mashiach’s influence, and create a means for it to encompass mankind.

The Sages liken the times of Joseph and Moses to the time of the Beis HaMikdash; the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. Their times are also like the time of the Mashiach. People are able to serve God with great fervor and zeal and experience a particular closeness because both the Temple and the Mashiach, for the Jewish people, act as points of “access” of Jews to God. In contrast, the days between Joseph and Moses and the times of slavery are like the time of the great exile after the Second Temple. These are times when people feel a tremendous separation from God and must summon up great courage to go on and to serve God. We know that during their slavery in Egypt, the Children of Israel did not hear from God at all and felt very much alone. Only when the Prophet Moses was raised up did God speak to His people again.

How does all this relate to us? During the earthly lifetime of Jesus, people began to have a unique access to God in the form of a human being that had never happened before. How this was possible, we cannot say for sure, but Jesus himself confirmed it.

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” –John 14:6-7 (ESV)

He also said:

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise. –John 5:19 (ESV)

When people were able to see and hear Jesus, they were able to experience access to God in a unique and unprecedented manner.

And then he was killed.

And then he rose and was among his people for forty days (Acts 1:3).

And then he left. And we’ve been waiting for his return ever since.

Like the Children of Israel in slavery and after the destruction of the Second Temple, we who are the disciples of Jesus are in a kind of exile. God promised Jacob (Genesis 46:4) He would go down into Egypt and into exile with Israel and He would surely come back out with them. That is also like us. Our Joseph, our Moses, our Messiah is not with us today. We have the Spirit, so God is with us in exile. Many times we speak to God and He speaks to us in some manner, but it is not the same as if the Messiah were present in the world in a physical manner. We know this because he has promised to return and we await his return. It matters if he is in the world because once he comes back, everything will begin to change. It won’t be so much like we will be taken out of our exile but that our exile will be transformed into our home, though this will not occur in its final form until the end of days.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. –Revelation 21:1-3 (ESV)

In Eden in the beginning, God dwelt with man in the Garden until the fall. For a short time, “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). God dwelt among His people in the desert (Exodus 40:34-35) and in the Temple of Solomon (1 Kings 8:10-11). God desires to dwell with us again and to that end, we have faith in the promises of the Messiah that when he returns, it will be so.

At the end of last week’s Torah Portion, the readings from the book of Genesis were concluded and this week we begin the readings from Exodus. At the end of the readings in any book of the Torah during the annual Torah cycle, the last reader, by tradition, recites a phrase that we also need to hear as we who are in exile await the return of our King. Let these words be instilled in our hearts and give us courage and hope as we face the challenges of God.

Chazak! Chazak! Venitchazeik! Be strong! Be strong! And may we be strengthened!

We also have these words of encouragement.

There are no things. There are only words. The Divine Words of Creation.

The words become scattered and we no longer understand their meaning. Only then are they things. Words in exile.

If so, their redemption lies in the story we tell with them. Reorganizing stuff into meaning, redefining what is real, and living a life accordingly.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Reinterpretation”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

Good Shabbos.

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Serving God

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The Rebbe of Sanz-Klausenberg, shlit”a, gave a very inspiring talk based on a statement on today’s daf. “The Rokeach writes that one should prepare himself with cheshbon hanefesh and teshuvah before fulfilling a mitzvah; he should beg God that he merit to do the mitzvah as is fitting, without feelings of self-aggrandizement. Some would even fast before fulfilling certain mitzvos. The reason for these extra exertions is that a mitzvah done with genuine feeling as it should be makes huge rectifications in the upper worlds. Obviously there are many barriers that block the way of the person who wishes to reach this pinnacle. The least we can do before performing a mitzvah is to beg God for help.

“Now we can understand why, although it was a printer’s decision, every tractate in the Talmud begins with a shaar blatt, a page with a gateway, and then starts on a page marked as number two. Tzaddikim always petition God for help to learn and do mitzvos. They plead with God: ‘I know in my heart that I am not as I should be. I have done much wrong. Nevertheless, You God are gracious and merciful. I therefore plead with You to help me serve You in truth.’ The first page is the gateway: we enter into the gates of learning Torah lishmah by begging God for His aid. Only after entering this gateway can we begin the actual tractate on page two.

Daf Yomi Digest
Stories Off the Daf
“Seeking the Laws of Pesach”
Bechoros 58

According to Rabbi Daniel Gordis in his book God Was Not in the Fire (pg 132), most people understand the word “mitzvah” to mean “good deed” when the better translation is “commandment”. He states that, “Doing a mitzvah might well be nice, but – perhaps surprisingly -Judaism values it not only for its “kindness” but for its “commandedness” as well.” This might go some of the distance in explaining how we can understand the Jewish value of asking; in fact, all but begging for God’s help in performing a mitzvah, even to the point to fasting and praying beforehand. For a Christian, this may seem way over the top and far too formal a process. If you feel moved to donate canned food to the local food bank, volunteer at the homeless shelter, or visit a sick friend in the hospital, can’t you just do that without all the preliminary activity suggested by the Rebbe of Sanz-Klausenberg?

Rabbi Gordis says that many Jews feel this way, too and resist “what they see as Judaism’s tendency to regulate too many elements of life.” I think that’s one of the reasons Christians and many “Messianics” are critical of the “man-made rules” contained in Talmud and the principle of halacha. After all, does this vast collection of minute details really matter to God? Isn’t He pleased if we just do His will without all the ceremony involved? Rabbi Gordis offers one possible answer.

Yet as much as it sounds reasonable to wonder whether God really cares about the details, these specific elements of Jewish life are often important not necessarily because God cares about them, but because we need them. It is through our attention to detail, tradition claims, that we express what Judaism called a sense of “commandedness,” a sense that we behave in a certain way in order to construct a relationship with God. Mitzvah is designed not to make unnecessary limitations on our privacy and autonomy, but to express the idea that if we wish to feel God’s presence, we need to evoke that feeling in action.

This is what Christians would probably call “works-based religion”. A Christian “believes” and “feels” God through faith while a Jew “obeys” and “acts” on their faith. I suppose this is as good a place as any to (again) invoke James 2:14-26 including the very famous verse 17: “faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. “ The specific formalities of Judaism in preparing to perform a mitzvah and then the specific manner in which the mitzvah is accomplished may not actually matter to God, but that ritual and ceremony provides meaning and structure in the life of a religious Jew (and this isn’t the first time I’ve talked about how important ritual and tradition is in a life of faith).

I suspect that one of the primary reasons why many “Gentile Messianics” resist Talmud and halacha when attempting to emulate a Jewish lifestyle, is not that the traditions were constructed by human beings, but that the traditions were constructed by Jews for Jews for the specific purpose of Jewish performance of Torah “commandedness”. Many non-Jews are attracted to Torah as a means of having a closer walk with God through the commandments, but they resist a fully Jewish experience with those commandments (because it is too Jewish).

Derek Leman wrote a multi-part series called Not Jewish yet Drawn to Torah (the link goes to part 1) addressing this dynamic in much detail. Leman doesn’t criticize Gentile attraction to the mitzvot but rather the approach that allows Christians (including “Gentile Messianics”) to approach the Torah with a casualness that Judaism doesn’t understand and finds offensive. Christians, particularly in the West, tend to think of their faith as only involving Jesus and the individual (“Just me and Jesus”). Judaism, though acknowledging the individual relationship, is much more about community and being a people under God, rather than an individual under God. Leman presents “Lessons Learned from Past Mistakes” illustrating some of this problem:

You should know that many have walked the path before you. And many have found some unhelpful paths and can warn you not to try them.

The major problem many Torah-seeking gentiles have run into is very similar to the problem of shallowness in much evangelical Christianity: individualism run amok.

EVANGELICAL CHRISTIAN SHALLOWNESS = “The gospel is about me and my salvation.” Read some N.T. Wright, like Justification or Surprised by Hope or After You Believe.

TORAH-SEEKING GENTILE SHALLOWNESS = “The Torah is about me and my status with God.” Read some medieval commentators and Jewish theologians, would you? Learn the depth.

A BETTER PATH = Learn slowly and carefully. Think before jumping into things. Consider that God has a plan for the whole world, through Israel, to redeem. How does Torah fit into that? What is your place in God’s plan?

While Christianity doesn’t share an equal and identical covenant identity with the Jews, we do operate from the same “core values:”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” –Matthew 22:37-40

If we, as Gentile believers, feel drawn to perform some additional mitzvot on a voluntary basis, and beyond what is required by Jesus, in order to further honor God, we need to respectfully approach how best to prepare for the experience of offering that service. While there is no mandate to flawlessly imitate a Jewish person, we can still attempt to take our actions a little more seriously and inject more formality into the process, not because God needs it, but because we need to be reminded that any action performed in His Name should invoke respect and awe of God.

Christianity and Judaism do share mandates to perform some of the same mitzvot, the actions I typically quote in many of my blogs, to feed the hungry, visit the sick and the prisoner, clothe the unclothed, and to welcome the stranger. In doing those deeds, why shouldn’t we as Christians, allow ourselves to perceive the incredible responsibility God has placed in our hands to serve Him and to serve others? Doesn’t that deserve a little formality and ceremony? Shouldn’t we ask for God’s aid in performing duties done in His Name? Aren’t these types of details there to help us, too? Let us remember these words and say them in truth to God:

I know in my heart that I am not as I should be. I have done much wrong. Nevertheless, You God are gracious and merciful. I therefore plead with You to help me serve You in truth.

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Origins of Supersessionism: My Upcoming Article for Messiah Journal

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Occasionally I receive a few complements from folks who think well of my blog and who suggest that I should do more formal kinds of writing in religious publications. While it’s very flattering to receive such attention, since I don’t have a formal education in theology, I thought such a contribution to be beyond my current skill sets. However, that has changed.

Several months ago, Boaz Michael, the Founder and President of First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ), asked me to write a four-part series on Replacement Theology or Supersessionism for their quarterly publication Messiah Journal (MJ). The series will touch upon the historic origins of Supersessionism, its placement in Christian doctrines, how Supersessionism affects the Church and Jewish people today, and how the Church can leave Supersessionism behind. One article in the series will be published in each of 2012’s quarterly releases of MJ. According to Toby Janicki at FFOZ, the issue of Messiah Journal containing my article should be available by the end of January. Look for “Origins of Supersessionism in the Church” in the January 2012 (#109) issue of Messiah Journal.

I want to take this opportunity to say that I am deeply honored Boaz and the fine folks at FFOZ considered me for this project and am gratified that I can offer my small talents in the service of their ministry and in service to God.

Blessings.

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On Fire

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Below, this glimmer of a soul craves to return to her primal essence above. She yearns with an obsession beyond reason, as metal is drawn to a mighty magnet, as a flame yearns its own extinction—for she knows full well she will be nameless there once again.

Trapped within the fetters of time and space, body and persona, her yearning swells to its bursting point, generating a fierce power. The power sparks and flames. Her thirst intensifies; it cannot be quenched.

Such is the divine plan. Now you must harness the power. With it, you can transform an entire world.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“The Glimmer Yearns”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

That sounds almost like certain eastern religions which suggest that when a person dies, their soul returns to the “universal consciousness”, surrendering any sort of individual identity. Christianity is fairly certain that “in the resurrection from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage” (Luke 20:35),  and they (we) are pretty sure that in some sense, we will still be the people we are now, though “we can no longer die and we’ll be like the angels” (Luke 20:36). But was the Rebbe (as interpreted by Rabbi Freeman) being literal or figurative?

I like the imagery in Judaism that we are like sparks thrown off the Divine “fire” so to speak, who all long to return to our source. We struggle to rise to heaven while our human existence chains us to earth. But is being “chained” such a bad thing? After all, it is by the will of God that we are here in the first place. If all we want is to “go to heaven,” why are we on earth? Rabbi Freeman says this about exile:

There is nothing larger than a mitzvah. There is nothing more powerful than Torah. When you are occupied in these things, the whole world becomes your servant, there but to stage your actions.

This seems to say that our real “power” isn’t in the heavenly realm but where we are right here and right now. While we can certainly obey all of the mitzvot related to worshiping God when our “spark” is united with His “fire,” how can we serve God in obedience in all of the commandments related to helping other human beings? We only have the power to serve others, to “feed the hungry, give the thirsty something to drink, invite a stranger into our homes, clothe the unclothed, and look after the sick” (Matthew 25:34-36) while in our lived, earthly existence. Only here, as the Master taught us, can we truly do for him by doing for the very least of his servants.

Although traditional Christianity doesn’t believe in the existence of souls prior to conception and birth, some traditions in Judaism do. We can borrow something from this picture and from Rabbi Freeman’s commentary on the nameless to illustrate a point.

High upon her precipice, the soul is nameless, for she has no form—she will be whatever she must be.

Peering below, beneath the clouds, she perceives a faint shimmering of her light in the deep, wet earth. There she finds form, and she calls it a name, and she is called when that name is called, for she says, “This is me.”

But it is not her. It is only a faint glimmering of her light within the frame of a distant world.

I recently told someone that the tales of the Chasidim don’t speak to me of literal facts and events, but of moral and spiritual principles, acting as a guide to some of the deeper things of God, which are hidden in my soul. Perhaps we can see some of the teachings of the Rebbe in this light as well. If Jewish wisdom seems elusive to you, rest assured that you are not alone. Yet it’s not always about finding the right answers, but discovering one really good question and the spending the rest of your life asking that question and attempting to penetrate the mystery of God.

The Tzemach Tzedek, zt”l, was respected throughout the Jewish world as a great scholar who was very astute. Even when asked the most difficult questions he always explained the subject in a manner to which the questioner could relate.

When a group of anti-semites approached the Czar of Russia—a consummate Jew-hater in his own right—and quoted strange-sounding parts of the Talmud taken out of context to convince him that it should be banned, he felt that they were likely right.

Not surprisingly, when the Tzemach Tzedek visited the Czar, the ruler brought up these many questions. “There is so much that sounds impossible in the Talmud. For example, in Bechoros 57 we find that a certain bird lays an egg which completely destroyed 60 cities and three hundred cedar trees. How can this be anything but nonsense?”

As usual the Tzemach Tzedek had a good answer. “As Your Majesty knows, a recent edict enacted was that no Jew may live within a certain distance from the border. Now, I am very respected amongst the Jewish people and am relied upon to publish only sensible things. If I were to write that with one dollop of ink His Majesty eradicated these cities—which were mostly Jewish—people will understand exactly what I mean. But later generations may not fathom how a few drops of ink can accomplish such a feat. Nevertheless, since I am well known, they will give me the benefit of the doubt and assume I mean something sensible although they don’t understand it and it sounds strange. Similarly, the sages of the Talmud meant something which may well be inscrutable now, but was understood by their generation and certainly has an important message.”

Daf Yomi Digest
Stories Off the Daf
“A Hidden Message”
Bechoros 57

We don’t always understand God. We don’t always understand ourselves. When on earth, we seek to fly back to Him. When in heaven, we long to serve Him on earth. We are a people caught in-between and a bridge between God and the world. We can only be who we are and serve Him as He desires by being a flaming span between the Divine celestial fire above and the mundane earth beneath our feet. We are Jacob sleeping at the foot of the ladder watching the journey of angels. We are also the angels. We are also the ladder.

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Recovered Priorities

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Once there was a shopkeeper who was very successful and made a fortune off of the people of his city and the surrounding environs. Virtually every waking minute was taken up with work. Not only did he lack time to learn one word of Torah, this gentleman didn’t even have enough time to daven. Since he worked until late at night it was hard for him to get up on time in the morning. He invariably arrived at shul around the time of borchu. Of course, since he always needed to rush to his business, he would leave early and never remained until aleinu.

When this businessman grew older he started to notice that his hair was turning grey. The shock of his own encroaching mortality inspired him to make a rigorous cheshbon hanefesh. He decided that from that day on he would have a daily seder of several hours of Torah study after davening no matter what.

But his partner wondered why this man, always so regular in the past, did not come to help the moment the store opened at 7:00 AM. When he finally arrived somewhat after ten, his partner was a little annoyed with him. “Where were you?” blurted the partner.

“I couldn’t make it on time today,” he replied vaguely.

The next day the partner in the store anxiously awaited the reformed businessman, but to no avail. When this man finally arrived at the store, his partner virtually pounced on him. “Are you crazy? We cannot run a business this way!”

But the partner who had done teshuvah also did not mince words. “Listen carefully. What would you have done if the malach hamaves had come for me? Would you also insist that I simply may not die because our store is filled with customers? So I want you to imagine that, during those first three hours of business in the morning, I have left the world. Why should it bother you if after a couple of hours I am revived from the dead and come to lend a hand at the business?”

Mishna Berura Yomi Digest
Stories to Share
“Early Departure”
Siman 132 Seir 2

The story of the shopkeeper is interesting because it’s not about a person who goes from being an atheist to finding God. It’s the story of a religious person who was just too busy for God. That is, until he got his “wake up call.” I’m glad his revelation was as minor as simply noticing he was turning grey and getting older. For some people, it’s more dramatic, like a heart attack, or the death of a loved one due to cancer. It’s a shame we need such “reminders” at all, but that’s human nature. Even as people of faith, we tend to take God and His gifts (wealth, health) for granted until He gives us a reason not to. Of course we should go to God because He is God, but usually we need a “better” reason than that.

OK, there is no better reason to go to God than because He is King, but as we see from the shopkeeper’s example, we can become hopelessly tied up in our day-to-day lives and all of the immediate priorities we feel cannot wait for a few minutes, let alone a few hours. We may even have someone around us like the shopkeeper’s partner who continued to harass this man about the time he diverted away from business in order to meet his obligations to his Creator.

I found this part of the narrative particularly interesting:

So I want you to imagine that, during those first three hours of business in the morning, I have left the world. Why should it bother you if after a couple of hours I am revived from the dead and come to lend a hand at the business?”

The shopkeeper, in meeting with God for the first three hours of his day, effectively exited the world as we know it and was considered “dead” to the pressures and demands of life. He was “revived” upon leaving the presence of God and as he re-entered the world of the living in order to satisfy the requirements of his present existence. This is a concept not unknown in Judaism or Christianity.

I gratefully thank you living and existing King, for returning my soul to me with compassion. Abundant is Your faithfulness. –Modeh Ani

This is the first blessing an observant Jew recites upon awakening in the morning, usually even before getting out of bed. In religious Judaism, some consider sleep to be “made up” of a significant portion of “death”. It’s as if in sleep, we are closer to the realm of death and thus more at risk of entering its “influence” than when we’re awake.

Christianity expresses a similar sentiment, but the blessing is said before going to bed. If you were raised in a Christian family, you may have said this prayer at bedtime when you were a child.

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake.
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

I suppose I should mention that in Judaism the Bedtime Shema also contains imagery of entering into a state approaching death and asking God for protection.

The shopkeeper thought he didn’t have time to insert his service to God in his busy life. But when he realized that his life could end at any moment, he knew he didn’t have the same amount of time to devote to business as he did before because he needed to enter into God’s world first.

Why am I writing this? Because I think that “Early Departure” is a moving and meaningful tale, I think that it tells us something we need to be reminded of, and I know that I have put God on the “back burner” more than once because I’ve been too busy.

I also am aware that there are more days behind me than there are ahead and I’ve been arrogant about how I spend my time, ignoring the reality of my existence, which only continues by God’s grace. I suppose this can be considered the latest in a long list of “stop and smell the roses” messages, and as trite as that may sound, it also has the benefit of being true.

Stop for a moment in the middle of your busy day. Take time out today and every day to gratefully thank the King of your life and to let Him know you haven’t forgotten that He is the King.

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The Many Paths of God

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It is very difficult to fathom how two opposing opinions can both be correct. The Ritva explains this in a wondrous manner: “When Moshe received the Torah at Sinai, God provided him with forty-nine perspectives to declare a matter pure, and forty-nine to declare it impure. Moshe Rabbeinu asked, ‘Master of the universe, why are these necessary?’ God answered, ‘So that they should be transmitted to the sages of every generation, that the law will be determined by them in accordance with the needs of their time.'”

This teaches that there are many valid paths to genuine Torah observance, all of which were received by Moshe on Sinai. But of course not all statements made are the words of the living God. As we find on today’s daf, sometimes a statement thought to be a mishnah is no mishnah at all. This means that sometimes what appears to be part of the chain of tradition is actually not and needs to be clarified as such.

Rav Menachem Mendel of Rimanov, zt”l, explains how the baalei mishnah reached a state in which they could draw down an authentic mishnah. “The baalei ha’mishnah explain how the oral Torah emerges from the written Torah. They could only draw down a genuine mishnah by completely nullifying all of their physical senses and immersing themselves absolutely in learning Torah. Once they reached this state they touched the inner essence of Torah and could determine the halachah and set down various mishnayos. When the sages perceived that a certain statement was not reached through this arduous process they declared it incorrect.

Daf Yomi Digest
Stories Off the Daf
“This is Not a Mishnah!”
Bechoros 56

Ohmygosh! What did I just say?

This teaches that there are many valid paths to genuine Torah observance, all of which were received by Moshe on Sinai.

That statement is bound to cause something of a stir in various religious circles. It is doubtful that Christianity will accept that there are many valid paths to genuine obedience to God since we have the Master’s own words saying that there is only one way to the Father, and that is through the Son (John 14:6). Of course this is midrash we’re talking about, so it’s not as if we have to believe the “conversation” between Moses and God actually took place as recorded in our “story off the daf”. I seriously doubt that many people participating in the “Messianic” movement will be enthusiastic about this midrash either, since most of the arguments I see in the blogosphere are about obeying the Torah in only one possible way.

That, of course, doesn’t make a lot of sense from a Jewish perspective, because there really is more than one way to perform a mitzvah, depending on various circumstances. For instance, how Askenazi Jews perform some of the mitzvot and how Sephardic Jews perform those mitzvot may vary drastically. And while there may be some debate between those two groups, no one is suggesting that the Ashkenazi are the only ones who “do it right” and that the Sephardic Jews “do it wrong”…or vice versa. And frankly, even if that suggestion exists, it’s not enough to compel one group or the other to change their traditions. How a Jew performs the mitzvot and understands his or her duty to God is largely based on tradition.

But how can the midrash dare to quote a conversation between Moses and God that, in all likelihood, never took place? Remember what I said in The Rabbinization of Abraham. In order to carry the Torah forward with Judaism in the centuries after the destruction of the Second Temple, Talmudic Judaism found it necessary to “refactor” the past, projecting the view of the Rabbis of the Common Era back onto Abraham and Moses. You and I may not find this “refactoring” to be accurate or factual, but if you understand the function and purpose of Chasidic Tales, you’ll understand that many great and important truths can and must be transmitted without necessarily being based totally on fact. Christians have a tough time understanding this, but it is also likely that not everything (hold on to your hats) in the Gospel accounts of the days of Jesus is literal fact.

Did that surprise you? If you think about it for a few minutes, it probably won’t.

(I should say that this point that when I realized this, I went into a crisis of faith and struggled a great deal with the idea that my faith was based on a book that was neither a legal document in full, or a newspaper reporter’s account of the “facts”).

If you don’t believe me, pop over to Derek Leman’s blog and read this write up, Passover, Last Supper, Crucifixion: 2011 Notes, Part 2. Leman illustrates in no-nonsense terms how the different Gospel versions of the Master’s death cannot be reconciled with each other, no matter how much literary and scriptural “slight of hand” you choose to employ.

So why shouldn’t we use midrash to understand mishnah and scripture? Perhaps they are useful tools after all.

This brings us back to the idea that there may be more than one way to obey God. This brings us back to the idea that there may be one way for a Jew to obey God relative to the Messiah and Torah, and a different but still correct way for a Gentile disciple of the Master to obey God. Are these two covenants? That suggestion is usually viewed with horror, especially if taken to the extreme and seen as “the Jews have Moses and the Gentiles have Jesus.” I’m not suggesting that (although the dynamics involving religious Jews who are not “Messianic” is certainly complex). I’m suggesting that for Jews who are disciples of Jesus and for Gentiles who are disciples of Jesus, there may be two paths to obedience based on identity and “covenant connection” (Jews were at Sinai and any Gentiles who were also present were absorbed into the Children of Israel, probably within three generations). The Jews have the Mosaic covenant connection which was not designed to accommodate non-Jews except for those Gentiles who were on the “multi-generational conversion track”. The Messianic covenant is unique in that it accommodates Jewish identity, allowing “Messianic Jews” to remain Jews (this is all heavily flavored by my opinions here) and also it allows Gentiles to enter into a covenant relationship with God, being “grafted in” as “wild branches” onto the “civilized tree” (note that the grafted in wild branches remain wild for the lifetime of the tree and don’t “morph” into civilized branches) and they can still remain Gentiles…forever.

Now we come back to the key phrase in today’s midrash.

This teaches that there are many valid paths to genuine Torah observance, all of which were received by Moshe on Sinai.

If you’re a non-Jew and you’re upset with how someone else is interpreting Gentile “Torah obedience”, figuring your way is right and their way is wrong, hold up a minute. First off, you Gentiles may not have any sort of “Torah obedience” based on the Mosaic covenant, so you may be traveling on the wrong path all together. Second, even within Judaism, as I previously mentioned, there is more than one accepted halacha to performing the mitzvot.

Hopefully, this will shake up someone’s moral certitude the next time they get into an Internet argument about how the Torah is supposed to be obeyed. If you continue to do your studying and are honest about it, you may find your assumptions challenged. The great Hillel was the master of teaching this lesson to potential converts, as recorded at SaratogaChabad.org.

Let us use the famous story of Shammai, Hillel and the three converts (Shabbos 31) to demonstrate the fusion of Halacha and Aggadah,: A gentile once came to Shammai, and wanted to convert to Judaism. But he insisted on learning the whole Torah while standing on one foot. Shammai rejected him, so he went to Hillel, who taught him: “What you dislike, do not do to your friend. That is the basis of the Torah. The rest is commentary; go and learn!” Another gentile who accepted only the Written Torah, came to convert. Shammai refused, so he went to Hillel. The first day, Hillel taught him the correct order of the Hebrew Alphabet. The next day he reversed the letters. The convert was confused:”But yesterday you said the opposite!?” Said Hillel: “You now see that the Written Word alone is insufficient. We need the Oral Tradition to explain G-d’s Word.” A third gentile wanted to convert so he could become the High Priest, and wear the Priestly garments. Shammai said no, but Hillel accepted him. After studying, he realized that even David, the King of Israel, did not qualify as a cohen, not being a descendant of Aaron

The convert was not just acting silly by standing on one foot; he was actually symbolizing his quest for true unity. This gentile had left behind a confusing plethora of pagan gods and multiple deities. He searched and finally found Monotheism, One Torah and One G-d, wanting to live by a single unifying principle, the ‘one foot’ on which all else stands. Hillel taught him that the underlying principle that unites all is Jewish Love. The second convert, had rejected the other man-made religions as human concoctions, was attracted to the Divine Torah, which consisted solely of G-d’s word. He was shocked to find that we follow a Rabbinical tradition. He wasn’t being rebellious, but sincerely asking a valid question; “I wish to observe G-d’s word alone, not any human additions.” Hillel creatively showed him that the two Torahs are not two separate systems, but are one and the same. The written word and the oral traditions complement each other. It is as basic as the Aleph Bais, where you can’t have one without the other. Indeed, the Torah itself bids us to follow the enactments of the sages. The third convert, disillusioned with pagan shallowness, aimed for a higher meaning to life. He yearned to reach the highest level, assuming that being a High Priest is the ultimate spiritual fulfillment.

Hillel didn’t just chase these would-be converts away, he (seemingly) accepted them on their own terms but allowed them to study and discover their own errors. Once they did so, they put aside their original assumptions and realized that in order to convert, they had to accept the Torah as it was within the Jewish framework of their day.

May God grant us the ability, wisdom, and will do to the same.