SALT | Acharei-Mot - Kedoshim 5785

MOTZAEI

Parashat Kedoshim opens with the famous, ambiguous imperative for which this parasha is named: "Kedoshim tihyu" - "You shall be holy."  Scholars throughout the generations have raised possible different meanings of this commandment. What does "being holy" entail? Rashi and others understand the term here as a reference to the strict laws governing sexual conduct, halakhot that, perhaps more than all others, reflect the level of sanctity towards which we must strive. The Ramban develops a famous theory known as "kadesh et atzmekha be-mutar lekha."  The Torah here seeks to prevent one from living a spiritually empty life within the framework of Jewish law. This commandment requires us to refrain from, or moderate our involvement in, certain activities permitted by the strict letter of the law to thereby afford a general, sacred quality to our lives.

A less known but equally as powerful explanation is cited by the Chida (Rav Chayim Yosef David Azulai) in the name of Rabbeinu Efrayim. In several places in Chumash, the Torah uses the term "kedusha" to mean "preparation" - see Shemot 19:10, 14; Bemidbar11:18). "Kedoshim tihyu" thus means, "Be prepared."  Meaning, we must maintain a constant state of readiness and preparedness to do God's will. At any moment, some obligation may take effect or an opportunity for a mitzva may arise. We must be "on our toes," ready at any moment, like a servant who rushes to his master immediately upon hearing the bell.

The verse continues, "For I, Hashem your God, am 'kadosh.'"  Here, too, suggests Rabbeinu Chayim, "kadosh" denotes preparedness. The Almighty here reminds us of His constant readiness to come to our aid: "God is close to all those who call for Him… "  We summon His compassion during times of need and desire His comfort during times of tragedy. If we expect Him to always be ready for us, then He naturally demands the same, as it were. We must prepare ourselves at all times to follow God's word, so that He will answer us whenever we call.

SUNDAY

Parashat Acharei-Mot includes the prohibition against the consumption of blood (chap. 17), a prohibition repeated several times throughout Chumash. A major controversy exists among the Rishonim as to the status of "dam she-bishlo" - blood that had been boiled. The Gemara in Menachot (21a) writes that one who drinks this blood does not violate the Biblical prohibition; it is prohibited only on the level of "derabanan" - through rabbinic enactment. Indeed, this is the ruling of the Rashba. The Rambam, however, indicates that even drinking cooked blood constitutes a Biblical violation (see Bet Yosef, Y.D. 87).

Some have questioned this distinction between fresh and cooked blood in light of a Gemara in a completely different context. In Masekhet Avoda Zara 29b, the Mishna and Gemara address the prohibition of "setam yeinam," drinking gentile wine, enacted out of concern for the possibility of the wine's having been used for pagan rituals. The Gemara comments that wine that had been cooked is permitted, because pagans would not normally use previously boiled wine for their ceremonies. However, notes the Gemara, if the gentile cooked his own wine, that wine remains forbidden, given the concern for idolatrous service therewith prior to the boiling. The Gemara then challenges the necessity of such a statement. If the wine was forbidden before the gentile boiled it, then how can the wine become suddenly permitted thereafter? To where would the prohibition have disappeared that a specific statement to this effect is deemed necessary?

The Gemara's answer does not concern us at this point, but its question most certainly does. This question strongly suggests that boiling cannot strip forbidden liquid of its status as such. How, then, can many Rishonim - and even a Gemara - maintain that blood loses its Biblical prohibition after being cooked?

One answer given distinguishes between the prohibition of drinking blood and that of "setam yeinam."  As mentioned, gentile wine is forbidden due to the likelihood of its prior use for pagan libation rituals. The wine thus becomes prohibited by a single act, in a single moment. Blood, by contrast, is forbidden by virtue of its identity as blood; no act is required. Therefore, the prohibition against drinking blood is renewed, if you will, at every moment. Every instant at which the blood can be identified as such brings about this prohibition. Therefore, it can lose that status through a chemical process that changes its identity. Pagan wine, by contrast, becomes forbidden in a single moment. It can therefore never lose its status as forbidden, since past history can never be changed; it will always have been used for pagan worship.

Alternatively, we may suggest a more scientific approach, distinguishing between the substances of blood and wine. Chemically speaking, the change undergone by blood when boiled is a drastic and fundamental one; it becomes an entirely different liquid. Wine, by contrast, may have some properties changed through boiling but essentially remains the same chemical substance. Therefore, the Gemara saw no possible reason for wine's halakhic status to change after boiling. Blood, by contrast, can lose its prior halakhic identity while sitting on the stove. Since it undergoes an essential, chemical change when boiled, it no longer retains, according to many Rishonim, its Biblical prohibition.

(The writer expresses his gratitude to Dr. Aaron Cypess for providing the scientific information necessary for the final segment of this piece.)

MONDAY

Parashat Acharei-Mot opens with the presentation of the "avodat Yom Ha-kippurim," the special service performed by the kohen gadol on Yom Kippur. Towards the end of this section, the Torah summarizes the function of this ceremony in a verse repeated several times in our Yom Kippur liturgy: "For on this day, atonement shall be made for you to cleanse you of all your sins, before God you will be cleansed" (16:30). The mishna in Masekhet Yoma (85b) cites Rabbi Elazar Ben Azarya as rereading the final clause of this verse as follows: "to cleanse you of all your sins before God," where "before God" modifies "sins."  From here Rabbi Elazar derives the well known principle that Yom Kippur atones only for sins committed "before God," against the Almighty alone. By contrast, "transgressions between a person and his fellow - Yom Kippur does not atone until he appeases his fellow."

The necessity of this derivation from our verse is called into question by a different mishna, in Bava Kama (92a). The eighth chapter of Bava Kama deals with compensatory payments required of one who inflicted physical harm upon another. The mishna points out that even after payment, the guilty party is not forgiven until he asks forgiveness from his victim. The mishna derives this requirement from God's admonishment to the Philistine king Avimelekh after is abduction of Sara. God indicates to the king that he must ask Avraham to pray on his behalf, for otherwise he will not be forgiven for his crime.

Wherein lies the difference between these two mishnayot? What do we learn from the verse in Parashat Acharei-Mot that we would not have concluded from the incident of Avimelekh?

Rav Soloveitchik (cited in Mesorah, vol. 2, p. 23) draws an insightful distinction between the general obligation - addressed in Bava Kama - and the specific requirements of Yom Kippur, spoken of in Masekhet Yoma. All year round, one who harms his fellow must ask him for forgiveness. The mishna in Yoma, however, introduces an additional obligation applicable specifically on Yom Kippur: to "appease" one's friend. On Yom Kippur, mere request for forgiveness does not suffice. The two must restore their relationship to the point at which it stood before any wrongdoing. The crime must be not only forgiven but driven from memory; the relationship between the two must continue as if the sin had never occurred.

Rav Soloveitchik then proceeds to explain the basis for this unique requirement on Yom Kippur. This day grants atonement to Am Yisrael as a single entity; each individual earns expiation from his sins only through his association with the nation as a whole. This national atonement can be effected only if the individuals join together to form a single whole. This process naturally requires the elimination of any barriers standing in between people. The obligation of asking forgiveness before Yom Kippur thus means the absolute eradication of wrongdoing from memory, so as to generate a real sense of unity and brotherhood among Kenesset Yisrael.

TUESDAY

Parashat Kedoshim presents many mitzvot, including the prohibition against withholding payment from a laborer: "A laborer's work shall not remain with you until morning" (19:13). An interesting question concerning this prohibition came before Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson, recorded in his classic work of responsa, Shut Sho'el U-meishiv (Mahadura Tanina, 3:42). A man wishes to give a gift to his friend, a tailor. He therefore gives the tailor some material from which to make himself a garment, and the giver will pay the tailor full price for his work. The dress-maker completes the work, but the "generous" friend delays his payment. Does he violate the prohibition of delaying a worker's salary? At first glance, it would seem that since he hired the tailor to perform a given task, what difference should it make who ultimately benefits from this labor? Once the time of payment arrives, the patron must pay; if he does not, he violates this prohibition.

Nevertheless, Rav Nathanson rules otherwise. He bases his decision on a careful reading of this verse: "A laborer's WORK shall not remain with you… "  Meaning, the Torah forbids not the withholding of payment per se, but rather receiving unpaid services from the worker. The work performed by the employee may not remain with the hirer; upon receiving the benefits of the labor, he must make his payment. Therefore, if the work performed by the laborer benefits himself, rather than his customer, the latter does not violate the prohibition of withholding payment.

There appears to be room to debate this conclusion, but we live this for the reader's consideration.

WEDNESDAY

Parashat Acharei-Mot opens with, and devotes much attention to, the day of Yom Kippur. It includes as part of this discussion the source of the obligation to fast on this day: "In the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month, you shall torment your souls… " (16:29). Significantly, the Torah expresses this obligation as a positive commandment. Meaning, nowhere do we find in the Torah a direct prohibition against eating; the verses rather speak of an obligation to fast. Interestingly enough, a dispute exists as to whether or not a prohibition against eating is included in the list of the 613 mitzvot. The Rambam does list such a prohibition, while Rav Sa'adya Gaon includes only the obligation of fasting.

In any event, that the prohibition against eating on Yom Kippur differs from other prohibitions regarding eating expresses itself in practical halakhic terms. Perhaps most prominently, this distinction directly affects the issue of the quantity of food required to violate the prohibition. Generally speaking, "eating" throughout halakha is defined by the consumption of a "ke-zayit" (the volume of an olive). Although one may not consume even the slightest amount of forbidden foods (see below), one becomes liable for punishment only through the consumption of a ke-zayit. Conversely, any mitzva requiring eating, such as the recent obligation of eating matza at the seder, can be fulfilled only by consuming a full ke-zayit.

The issue of eating on Yom Kippur, however, does not involve a ke-zayit at all. Since the Torah does not introduce a specific prohibition against eating, but rather a requirement of fasting, one does not violate this commandment until he reaches the point where he no longer "torments his soul."  Chazal assessed this quantity as a "kotevet ha-gasa," a large, dried date, a volume somewhat larger than a ke-zayit. Thus, one who ingests a ke-zayit is considered by halakha as having "eaten," but not as having satiated his appetite to the point where he no longer "torments his soul."

This distinction raises an interesting question concerning the common occurrence of Yom Kippur coinciding with Shabbat. As we know, this case marks the only instance in which halakha mandates fasting on Shabbat. Some have asked, why not simply eat a ke-zayit - and no more - on this Shabbat/Yom Kippur? After all, one fulfills the mitzva of "oneg Shabbat," of enjoying oneself through food on Shabbat, with the consumption of a ke-zayit of bread. Since this relatively small amount does not qualify for a Yom Kippur violation, why not eat this quantity on Shabbat Yom Kippur? One will have thus observed both the requirement of "oneg Shabbat" and that of fasting on Yom Kippur!

One answer given claims that quite simply, one cannot fulfill in a single day both "oneg" and "tormenting of the soul"; the two concepts are inherently self-contradictory. True, generally speaking, one violates Yom Kippur only through the consumption of a kotevet. However, if a person partakes of a ke-zayit with intention to fulfill the requirement of "oneg," physical indulgence on Shabbat, he can no longer be said to have observed the obligation of fasting on Yom Kippur. If the individual himself considers this ke-zayit as indulgence, then halakha must, as well. Consequently, he cannot possibly be viewed as having "fasted" on this day.

We have largely ignored a related but critical issue called "chatzi shiur."  According to the accepted view in halakha, even if a given quantity is required to becomes liable for punishment for a certain violation, the Torah nevertheless forbids the consumption of even the slightest amount of the forbidden food. Thus, one may not  normally consume any quantity of food or drink on Yom Kippur. The question we addressed presumed that for the sake of fulfilling the obligation of eating on Shabbat, we would override the prohibition of eating small quantities of food on Yom Kippur. The answer given argued that no matter what the amount, one cannot fulfill both "enjoyment" and "torment" on the same day.

THURSDAY

In Parashat Acharei Mot, God has Moshe issue the following admonition to Benei Yisrael: "You shall not copy the practices of the land of Egypt where you dwelt, or of the land of Canaan to which I am taking you; nor shall you follow their laws. My rules alone you shall observe, and faithfully follow My laws… " (Vayikra 18:3-4). In other words, Benei Yisrael may not look to the mores of other nations as examples to necessarily follow; God's laws alone may and must form the authoritative basis of the nation's religious, moral and legal code.

The specific reference to Egypt and Canaan in this context is beautifully explained by the Be'er Yitzchak. God here makes what we may perhaps call a most convincing argument. For what purpose did the Almighty take Benei Yisrael from Egypt if they will merely adopt the same practices of their former taskmasters? Likewise, Benei Yisrael's displacement of the Canaanites in Eretz Yisrael serves no purpose if they will adhere to the pagan practices of Canaan. God lifted His people from the mudpits of Egypt and brought them to the hills, plantations and vineyards of Eretz Yisrael for the specific purpose of enabling us to follow His special laws, as presented in the Torah and understood by the Sages.

In this light we may also explain the second verse in the aforementioned passage: "My rules alone you shall perform and observe My laws… "  As Rashi notes, the verse first mentions "mishpatai" ("My rules") and thereafter "chukai" ("My laws"). Rashi presents here the well known distinction between these two terms: "mishpat" refers to those laws that society would have intuitively enacted, while a "chok" is an incomprehensible rule arousing questions and doubts in the minds of skeptics. The warning against adopting the customs and values of the gentiles naturally includes mention of the observance of "chukim," laws lying beyond our comprehension. These mitzvot are particularly susceptible to the effects of exposure to the surrounding cultures: if no one else practices these laws, why should we? The Torah must therefore stress the importance of adhering to not only the intuitive "mishpatim," but the seemingly strange and purposeless (Heaven forbid!!!) "chukim," as well.

The message of these verses must ring loud and clear to contemporary Jewry. As we commemorated last week, so much has been and is sacrificed on behalf of the modern State of Israel. Additionally, in the Diaspora, so much time, money and manpower has been invested for the sake of Jewish continuity, to halt the frightening tide of assimilation. These verses remind us of the ultimate, underlying purpose behind all these efforts, both in Israel and abroad: to observe the "chukim" and "mishpatim."  The world does not need a Jewish people - and certainly not a State of Israel - if we will simply follow the ethical and religious values of the modern, western world. Rather, we continue to survive in order to adhere to the demanding standards of the Torah, thereby becoming God's treasured nation and the "light unto the nations."

FRIDAY

Parashat Kedoshim features, among other things, the famous dictum, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself."  What does "as yourself" entail? The Ramban insists that we cannot take this clause literally. It is inconceivable, he writes, that the Torah would require one to actually love and care for another person as he does for his own, personal well being. He even cites proof to this effect from a famous ruling of Rabbi Akiva (who, incidentally, authored the celebrated saying, "Love your neighbor as yourself - this is a great principle in the Torah") that one need not sacrifice his own life for the sake of another. Addressing a situation where one has only enough water to keep one person alive, Rabbi Akiva ruled that the owner of the water need not sacrifice his life by giving the canteen to his fellow: "Your life takes precedence to your friend's life."  Apparently, concludes the Ramban, the Torah's imperative of loving one's neighbor "as yourself" cannot be taken at face value. If, indeed, we must love others to the same extent as we love ourselves, then why would one be allowed to drink his final droplets of water and watch his friend perish from thirst? The Ramban therefore reads the verse as requiring loving one's neighbor "as himself" only in a general sense: just as one naturally wishes well for himself, so should he wish well for others.

The Maharal of Prague negates this proof of the Ramban. He distinguishes between the two concepts of love and life. As Rabbi Akiva rules, one may afford precedence to his own life over that of his friend. However, the love he shows for others must resemble that with which he treats himself. Rav Yaakov Filber (contemporary) paraphrased the Maharal's explanation as follows: "As for life itself, certainly one's own life takes precedence, but within the framework of life, one must share his love equally with his friend."

While this approach of the Maharal merely negates the Ramban's proof, the Rambam appears to actually dispute the Ramban's thesis. He writes in Hilkhot Dei'ot (6:3), "There is a mitzva upon every person to love everyone among Yisrael LIKE HIS OWN BODY, as it says, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'  One must therefore speak his praises and exercise care regarding the money of others just as he exercises care regarding his own money and wishes for his own honor."  Meaning, one must actually treat others with the same level of love and concern with which he looks after himself.

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