SALT | Haazinu - Shabbat Shuva 5785
MOTZAEI
As we discussed yesterday, the haftara read on the first day of Rosh Hashana (Shemuel I 1:1 – 2:10) tells the story of the birth of the prophet Shemuel to Elkana and Chana. In introducing Elkana, the Tanakh describes his practice of making an annual pilgrimage to the Mishkan: "This man used to go up from his town every year to worship and to offer sacrifice to the Lord of Hosts at Shilo" (1:3). The Yalkut Shimoni, commenting on this verse, informs us that besides going with his family to the Mishkan, Elkana would make a proactive effort to bring as many other families with him as he could. Apparently, people at that time had little or no interest in frequenting the Sanctuary, thus requiring Elkana to embark on a vigorous campaign to draw pilgrims to Shilo. Likewise, a different passage in the Yalkut Shimoni describes the stature Elkana earned in his family and community, and concludes, "all his stature came only from himself." As Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg explains in his "Musar Ha-nevi'im," the Midrash here points to the fact that Elkana had no one from whom to learn the importance of visiting the Mishkan. This practice was entirely his own initiative, and was at odds with the prevalent attitude among the people.
To what can we attribute the people's indifference towards the Mishkan in Shilo?
The answer emerges clearly from the continuation of the verse: "Chofni and Pinchas, the two sons of Eli [the kohen gadol], were kohanim of the Lord there." In the next chapter of Sefer Shemuel I, we read of the disturbing corruption that plagued the institution of the kehuna, and particularly Chofni and Pinchas themselves. Most likely, as Rav Ginsburg claims, a sense of disillusionment had overcome the nation with respect to the kohanim, the sacrificial order, and the entire institution of the Mishkan. Under such circumstances, with the kehuna overrun by greed and even promiscuity (see 2:22), the people felt distant from the Mishkan and had no interest in taking part in its service. Elkana alone made a point of visiting Shilo regularly, "to worship and to offer sacrifice to the Lord of Hosts at Shilo."
Elkana's conduct, and Chazal's praise that it earned, perhaps teach us the importance of doing what one can even under less than ideal circumstances. Many areas of contemporary Jewish life leave much to be desired, and we often find ourselves disillusioned by what we see and hear regarding the current situation of the Jewish people. But like Elkana, we must visit the Mishkan even if the Mishkan is far from perfect. We may have legitimate complaints about a given synagogue, educational institution, community, etc., but this does not mean we ought to ipso facto distance ourselves from it until such time as perfection is attained. We learn from Elkana to continue involving ourselves in religious life, even under imperfect conditions, even when the desired standards are still far from being achieved.
SUNDAY
On the second day of Rosh Hashana, we read for the haftara a prophecy in Sefer Yirmiyahu (31:1-20). Interestingly, the Gemara in Masekhet Megila (31a) refers to this haftara as, "Truly, Efrayim is a dear son to Me" – the final verse of this haftara. A quick survey of that passage in Masekhet Megila clearly shows that the Gemara generally refers to Torah or haftara readings by either its opening verse or its predominant theme or personality. (For example, the haftara for the first day of Rosh Hashana is understandably referred to as "Chana.") Why in this case is the haftara named after its final verse?
Rav Yehuda Shaviv, in his work on the haftarot ("Bein Haftara Le-parasha"), suggests that this verse, which speaks of Benei Yisrael (referred to in this verse as "Efrayim") as God's dear and precious son, encapsulates the central theme of this haftara. Rav Shaviv demonstrates this by first suggesting a beautiful parallel between the Torah reading for this day and its haftara. The Torah reading for the second day of Rosh Hashana tells the famous story of the "akeida," the binding of Yitzchak, when God commands Avraham to offer his son, Yitzchak, as a sacrifice. In the end, of course, just as Avraham prepares to slaughter his beloved son, the Almighty instructs Avraham not to touch Yitzchak, and Avraham sacrifices a ram, instead. This is a story about a seeming detachment between father and son, the impression given of a father who no longer treats his son as his own child. It then becomes clear that this was but an illusionary impression, and in truth, God had never intended for the son to be taken from the father.
In the haftara for the second day of Rosh Hashana, the prophet Yirmiyahu speaks of a similar phenomenon. Only here, the father is not Avraham, but the Almighty, and the son, Yitzchak, is the Almighty's collective "son," His children, the entire people of Israel. Am Yisrael exclaim in anguish in the haftara's second verse, "From the distance does the Lord appear to me." They feel distance and detached; they perceive God as unloving, indifferent, and uninterested in continuing His relationship with them. But the Almighty immediately responds, "But I have loved you with eternal love; I therefore continue My grace to you." As in the story of akeidat Yitzchak, the detachment between father (in this case, Father) and son is but an illusion. God may appear at first to stand at a distance, but in truth, He never left His people and His love for them never diminished.
Thus, the theme of this haftara is accurately captured by its final verse: "Truly, Efrayim is a dear son to Me, a child that is dandled!" This haftara speaks of the ongoing, parent-child relationship between God and Israel. "Whenever I speak of him," God declares, "My thoughts dwell on him still." No matter how distant a parent may be from a child, no matter how their relationship might be shaken, the parent cannot help but think lovingly and longingly about his/her child. Similarly, God always remembers us favorably, even at times when He seems distant and unloving.
We might add that this approach to the haftara's theme helps explain the famous verses towards the end of the haftara, describing how Rachel weeps for her children and refuses to receive comfort (31:15-17). Even as the centuries pass and her children have yet to return, Rachel knows no consolation, and she continues to weep. A mother does not give up on her children even after centuries of absence. The prophet invokes this image because God, too, weeps, as it were, for His children, and He anxiously awaits their return to Him and their land – "And there is hope for your future, declares the Lord: Your children shall return to their country" (31:17).
Finally, it must be noted that, as Rav Mendel Hirsch emphasizes in his commentary to this haftara, Yirmiyahu speaks here specifically of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, the Ten Lost Tribes. Throughout this prophecy, Yirmiyahu refers to Benei Yisrael as "Efrayim," undoubtedly a reference to the Northern Kingdom, which was centered in the territory of Efrayim (and established by Yeravam Ben Nevat, from the tribe of Efrayim). The prophet foresees the day when "Again you shall plant vineyards on the hills of Shomron" (31:5). Shomron was the city that King Achav established as his capital of the Northern Kingdom. (Furthermore, one could suggest, perhaps, that Efrayim's cry, "You have chastised me… like an untrained calf" - 31:18 – is intended as a subtle allusion to the two golden calves that the Northern Kingdom worshipped, and may have been the symbol of the Kingdom.)
Yirmiyahu stands at the brink of the destruction of the First Temple, the exile of Yehuda, and yet he foresees not only the return of the Kingdom of Judah, but the restoration of the Ten Lost Tribes, as well: "He who scattered Israel will gather them" (31:10). There can hardly be a stronger expression of God's eternal, unshakable love for His people then this prophecy, where at the lowest depths of anguish and despair, when the future of the Jewish people seemed questionable, He promises to return of even those tribes that seemed lost forever. Regardless of how far the child has wandered, no matter how detached the Father seems, the child remains a dear, precious son. "That is why My heart yearns for him; I will receive him back in love, declares the Lord" (31:20).
MONDAY
In the introductory paragraph "Lekha Hashem ha-tzedaka" in our Selichot prayers, we humbly confess that we stand before the Almighty without any merit on the basis of which we can submit requests. We proclaim, "Neither with kindness ['chesed'] nor with good deeds ['ma'asim'] have we come before You; like paupers and beggars have we knocked on Your doors." Why do we confess to having neither "kindness" nor "good deeds"? Is not "kindness" included under the general category of "good deeds"? If we intend here to declare that we have insufficient merit, then we could simply say, "Without good deeds have we come before You." Why must we specify "kindness"?
Rav Moshe Feinstein zt"l thus concludes that "kindness" here cannot refer to acts of kindness, which would obviously be included under "good deeds." Rather, "kindness" in this passage of Selichot means the attribute of kindness, a kind and generous personality. What God requires of us is not merely to perform acts of kindness, to assist and do favors for others, but to engender within ourselves the character trait of generosity and benevolence. Kindness must become part of one's being, second-nature, rather than something he must force himself to do. As we stand before God and ask for forgiveness, we acknowledge that we have fallen short of both our obligations: we have not performed the acts required of us, and, furthermore, we have failed to become people of "chesed." We are still plagued by selfishness and greed, and have yet to build within ourselves the qualities of loving kindness and generosity.
Rav Moshe adds in this context an insightful interpretation of a phrase from our daily prayer service. In the morning berakhot, we beseech God for assistance in our religious life. We ask, "Do not bring us to sin, or to transgression or iniquity, and not to test ['nisayon']." A "nisayon" is a situation of challenge, where one confronts and must struggle with his inclination to sin. At first glance, it appears that in this request, we ask God to see to it that no such situations arise over the course of our lives. Rav Moshe, however, suggests a different explanation. We ask the Almighty to help us mold and fashion our personalities in such a way that doing the right thing no longer involves a "nisayon," we need not struggle with ourselves to act as we should. Our ultimate goal, which we need God's ongoing assistance to achieve, is for Torah and mitzvot to become second-nature, for our minds and hearts to become naturally inclined to the fulfillment of God's laws, so that we no longer confront any "nisayon," any challenge to our commitment and devotion to Him.
TUESDAY
In his Hilkhot Teshuva (2:2), the Rambam defines repentance as "abandoning" the sin one had committed, eliminating it from his thoughts and firmly resolving never to repeat the act. The Rambam adds that teshuva entails regretting the act to such an extent that "He who knows all secrets will testify about him that he will never again repeat this sin." Seemingly, the Rambam requires that one who performs teshuva must undergo such a change of heart that he will undoubtedly never repeat the act again.
But such a comment is very difficult to accept. What about all those countless instances when we sincerely regretted a given action, but repeated it sometime later in a moment of weakness? Does this mean that the initial repentance cannot be considered "teshuva" at all? If teshuva means repenting to the point where God foresees that the sinner will never repeat his wrongdoing, then apparently, one who repents and repeats the sin has not done teshuva at all!
In response to this question, several alternative readings of this passage have been suggested. Some claimed that teshuva means regretting the act to the point where normally, the individual will not repeat that sin; this is not to say, however, that he will not regress and repeat the sin. A sin's recurrence does not necessarily reflect a flaw in the repentance; people sin for a variety of reasons. The Rambam simply meant that sincere teshuva means changing oneself to become a person who does not engage in such sinful conduct. That the person may at some point change into a different kind of person, who does behave this way, does not mean he did not perform proper teshuva initially.
However, the Rosh Yeshiva, Harav Aharon Lichtenstein shlit"a, explained somewhat differently. He notes that the Rambam describes a situation where God testifies "that he will never again repeat THIS SIN." A person who performs teshuva at the standard described by the Rambam may commit the same technical violation as he had previously, but he will not commit precisely the same sin. Through the process of teshuva, a person changes, grows, and develops. If he genuinely regrets his previous misdeeds, then it will take much stronger pressure or stimuli for him to commit the act than it had originally. If one feels repulsed by his wrongdoing, then any recurrence of the sin will not be of the same character, it will be accompanied by a much greater sense of reservation and reluctance, and will occur only in instances of more overwhelming pressure.
Therefore, a sincere "ba'al teshuva" will never commit precisely the same transgression as he did the first time. The experience of teshuva has changed his entire attitude towards that transgression, and to sin in general, to the point where he is no longer capable of committing the act in the same manner as he had originally.
WEDNESDAY
Parashat Ha'azinu contains one of the several "shirot," or poems, in Tanakh. Among the defining characteristics of these shirot is the manner in which they are written in the Torah. The Gemara in Masekhet Megila (16b) mentions two different ways in which Biblical poems are written. Most appear in the scroll as "ariach al gabei leveina; leveina al gabei ariach." Meaning, every second row contains an area of empty space at either end, and the other rows have text on either end with empty space in the middle. Thus, all blocks of text have empty space above and beneath it. Two shirot, however, are written as two parallel columns; text is situated above text, and empty space is situated above empty space. The Gemara mentions that the list of Canaanite kings defeated by Benei Yisrael, which appears in poetic form (Yehoshua 12), as well as the names of the ten sons of Haman in Megilat Ester (chapter 9), appear in this format.
Commenting on this Gemara, the Ran observes that the poem of Ha'azinu resembles the two exceptions – the lists of the Canaanite kings and Haman's sons. It, too, is written as two parallel columns. The Ran explains that as the Gemara there explains, these two lists appear in two parallel columns "so that they will have no ability to stand ground." This means (according to the Ran; Rashi explains differently) that a straight, even column cannot be built to too significant a height, if its base is no narrower than its top. This symbolizes our hope that our enemies, such as the Canaanites and Haman's followers, will lack the strength to rise to power and greatness. Similarly, the Ran claims, the song of Ha'azinu ends with the promise of our foes' downfall. By writing Ha'azinu in this manner in the Torah scroll, we express our hope that once our enemies fall, they never rise up again to destroy us.
What is the halakha if the song of Ha'azinu is not written in this format? If the blocks of text are not precisely aligned one atop the other, does this disqualify the Sefer Torah from use?
By and large, this problem is easily rectifiable. If in a given line some text protrudes into the empty space in between the columns, the word or that entire line can be erased and rewritten in a manner taking less space. Conversely, if a block of text on a given line is too short, such that it does not line up precisely with the text above or below, it can be erased and rewritten to cover the entire space.
However, a case came before the Noda Bi-Yehuda (Y.D. 176) where the words "havu godel le-Elokenu" (32:3) did not cover the entire space under the line above it. Obviously, the final word of this line, "le-Elokenu," a Name of God, cannot be erased, and so the problem in this situation cannot be rectified. What should the congregation do? Is the Torah scroll disqualified? (Bear in mind the enormous cost of Torah scrolls, as well as the financial woes of 18th-century Eastern European Jewry.)
The Noda Bi-Yehuda initially suggests that the first word of the following line, "Ha-tzur," be erased and appended to the previous line to cover the empty space. The next two words, "tamim pa'alo," could then be erased and rewritten in stretched form to fill the space opened by the absence of the word "ha-tzur." As the Noda Bi-Yehuda himself notes, however, the verse "Ha-tzur tamim pa'alo" is among those verses that are traditionally to be situated at the beginning of a line, a custom that one clearly violates by moving the word "ha-tzur" to the end of the previous line. Nevertheless, he writes, it emerges clearly from the Tur and Shulchan Arukh (Y.D. 275) that deviations from customs such as this one do not disqualify a Sefer Torah from use.
The Noda Bi-Yehuda concludes, however, that in truth, this is not necessary. Although the Ran, as mentioned, indeed requires that Ha'azinu follow the format of the lists of Canaanite kings and Haman's sons, such a requirement appears nowhere in the Talmud or later authorities. Recall that the Gemara in Masekhet Megila makes no mention of the format for the writing of Shirat Ha'azinu. The special format is therefore required only by force of custom, rather than the strict halakhic codes for writing a Sefer Torah, and thus should it be written mistakenly, the scribe need not begin erasing and rewriting to correct it.
(The Munkatcher Rav, in Minchat Elazar 3:55, cites and strongly rejects this ruling of the Noda Bi-Yehuda, noting that a mishna in Masekhet Sofrim – 1:11, cited by the Ran in the aforementioned passage, appears to require the conventional format of Shirat Ha'azinu. The Noda Bi-Yehuda, who confesses in this responsum that time constraints required that he keep his remarks brief [he writes that he was busy planning his daughter's wedding], presumably understood that mishna differently. The fact that the Gemara in Megila made no mention of this requirement likely led him to believe that no such requirement exists, thus compelling him to dismiss the straightforward reading of that mishna in Masekhet Sofrim.)
THURSDAY
The haftara for Shabbat Shuva, the Shabbat between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, is subject to a variety of customs. Many communities combine for this haftara prophecies from three different books: the final chapter of the book of Hoshea, the final three verses of Mikha, and a section from Yoel (2:11-27). Perhaps the most famous of these sections is the portion from Hoshea, which begins with the famous proclamation, "Shuva Yisrael" – "Return, O Israel (14:2). We will try to gain a deeper understanding of this prophecy and particularly its specific connection to the Ten Days of Repentance by considering its historical and textual contexts.
The first verse of Sefer Hoshea informs us that Hoshea prophesied during the time of Yeravam Ben Yoash, king of the Northern Kingdom of Israel. Not to be confused with Yeravam Ben Nevat, the founder and first king of the Northern Kingdom, Yeravam Ben Yoash was the grandson of Yeihu, the God-fearing zealot who led a revolt against the pagan government of Achav and established a new dynasty (see Melakhim II, chapter 10). The period of Yeravam Ben Yoash, whom Sefer Melakhim II describes as a sinner (14:24), marks the end of the stability temporarily enjoyed by the Northern Kingdom. He expanded and fortified the kingdom's borders, but after his death the kingdom regressed back to the chaos and strife that had characterized its earlier days (before its rise power during the time of Omri and Achav). Roughly forty years later, God destroys and exiles the corrupt Northern Kingdom at the hands of Ashur, the Assyrian Empire.
Throughout Sefer Hoshea, the prophet warns the kingdom of the impending disaster which God threatens to bring upon them as a result of their corruption and foreign worship. In the prophecy immediately preceding the declaration of "Shuva" (meaning, 13:12-14:1), the prophet appears to announce the finalization of the decree of destruction against the Northern Kingdom. "Efrayim's [a reference to the Northern Kingdom] guilt is bound up, his sin is stored away" (12:1). According to Ibn Ezra, this means that God keeps Efrayim's sin in a special place, so-to-speak, so that it will not be forgotten. The possibility of a pardon appears to have been eliminated. Two verses later, God proclaims, "From the hand of Sheol I will save them, redeem them from death." The commentators explain this as what God initially had in mind for the Northern Kingdom. In other words, God tells the people here that He was prepared to spare them the consequences of their wrongdoing had they repented and returned. Due to their refusal to change, however, the verse continues, "I Myself will speak of death for you, I will destroy you until Sheol" (based on Rashi's interpretation). Thus, any ambivalence God may have had concerning the kingdom's annihilation has faded; He no longer has any misgivings about pouring His wrath upon them. "He [the kingdom] now flourishes among reeds, but the east wind of the Lord shall come blowing up from the wilderness; his fountain shall be parched, his spring dried up. That [wind] shall plunder treasures, every lovely object." As Radak explains, this verse refers to the Northern Kingdom's rapid deterioration from the power and prestige it enjoyed during the time of Yeravam Ben Yoash to the blows it will suffer at the hands of Ashur following his death (see Melakhim II 15:19-20,29), culminating with its total destruction and dispersion.
Finally, the prophet declares, "Tesham Shomron, ki marta be-Elokeha." Many commentators translate this to mean, "Shomron shall be made desolate, for it betrayed its God." However, Yehuda Kiel, in the "Da'at Mikra" commentary, translates this to mean, "Shomron shall bear its guilt." The kingdom's fate is sealed, the decree has been issued by God that it must be eliminated.
But then, in the very next verse, the prophet calls for repentance: "Shuva Yisrael!" Why would the prophet even bother to urge the people to repent if God had already finalized the decree against them?
Most likely in response to this question, Rashi (14:2) explains that the prophecy of "Shuva" is directed not to the doomed Northern Kingdom, but rather to the Southern Kingdom of Yehuda, whose fate remains to be decided. The prophet urges the Southern Kingdom to learn the lesson of their brethren's destruction and ensure to avoid the sinful path of the north that resulted in its displacement at the hands of Ashur. Malbim explains differently, claiming that the finalization of God's decree applied only to "Shomron" – the capital city, the government, the country's leadership who led the people astray. The masses themselves, however, were merely victims of the government's policies implementing foreign worship and corruption, and they therefore retained the possibility of escaping calamity through teshuva. (In this vein, Malbim interprets the phrase, "ki kashalta ba-avonekha"- for you have "stumbled" in your sin. According to Malbim, this means that they, the masses, did not initiate the betrayal of God, but were rather innocently led astray by their corrupt leadership.)
The straightforward reading of the verses, however, would indicate that the prophet here addresses the Northern Kingdom, in its entirety, the very people upon whom he just predicted doom and destruction. Indeed, Mahari Kara writes: "Since so much has been decreed against you, I therefore say, 'Return, O Israel, unto the Lord your God' beforehand," meaning, before the onset of calamity. The prophet promises that although the decree has been issued, it is not irrevocable. The people have the power to have the decree annulled through repentance.
According to this approach, we can perhaps appreciate more fully why Chazal selected this portion as the haftara for this Shabbat. After Rosh Hashana, when we stood on trial before God and were inscribed in one of the books opened before the Heavenly Judge, we are reminded that whatever harsh decrees issued against us are not yet final. We are still granted the opportunity to improve our sentence through prayer and repentance. Hoshea promises us that if we do, indeed, change our ways and improve our conduct, then, as God declares, "I will heal their affliction, I will generously take them back in love, for My anger has turned away from them" (14:5).
FRIDAY
As we discussed yesterday, the haftara for Shabbat Shuva, the Shabbat in between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, includes the prophet Hoshea's plea to the Northern Kingdom of Israel (or, according to Rashi, the Southern Kingdom of Judah) to repent. In this plea, the prophet foresees God's favorable response to the people's teshuva. He promises, among other things, "I will be to Israel like dew; it shall blossom like the lily" (14:6). Clearly, as Radak and others observe, this verse is meant as a contrast to the prediction of doom just several verses earlier. The prophet warns, "He [the kingdom] now flourishes among reeds, but the east wind of the Lord shall come blowing up from the wilderness; his fountain shall be parched, his spring dried up." In contrast to this "drying up" of the nation's agricultural resources, God promises the repentant nation that He will bring upon them His life-giving dew, that will help ensure the growth of the country's vegetation and crops.
But why does the prophet employ specifically the image of dew? Why does he not liken God's blessing to abundant rainfall? (Bear in mind the second verse of this week's parasha, Ha'azinu, in which Moshe draws an analogy between his teaching and both rain and dew.)
Radak suggests that dew, unlike rain, descends constantly, on a daily basis, regardless of the season. Rain (at least in the Middle East) falls only during certain times of the year. God promises that teshuva earns a never-ending cycle of divine blessing, a blessing that is not limited to particular circumstances or periods of time.
Malbim, however, advances a particularly novel approach in interpreting this verse. He claims that the verse refers to a plant discussed in scientific literature called "the Jericho lily." This flower does not strike deep roots in the ground where it grows, and the wind easily dislodges it from the ground and carries it over vast distances. Over the course of this plant's odyssey, it absorbs the dew in the air and is thereby sustained as it passes through the air. When it finally lands and settles into the ground, it blossoms and grows into a majestic, spectacular flower.
The prophet promises Benei Yisrael that they, too, will experience such a journey in exile if they repent. The "winds" of the exile will carry them from one continent to the next, they will be tossed through the air, battered and thrown about by the furious forces of oppression and persecution. Throughout this ordeal, however, "I will be to Israel like dew." God will ensure the survival of this nation flying through the air, He will provide the supernatural nourishment by which they will endure. Ultimately, "it shall blossom like a lily." At the end of the journey, Benei Yisrael will grow and develop into the glorious nation it had once been, cleansed from its impurities by the centuries of wandering and travails.
The prophet promises this life-giving dew on condition that Benei Yisrael heed his call of "Shuva," that they commit themselves to abandoning their sins of old and beginning a new chapter of faith, obedience, and devotion to God.
***********************************************
Our SALT Archives house decades of divrei Torah. Click here.
More recent SALTs can be found by searching for SALT in our Advanced Search box, along with the parasha name.
***********************************************
This website is constantly being improved. We would appreciate hearing from you. Questions and comments on the classes are welcome, as is help in tagging, categorizing, and creating brief summaries of the classes. Thank you for being part of the Torat Har Etzion community!