Frum or Krum: Mikvah for a Kohen

The time has come once again to don our cape and venture out into the weird, wild, and wacky world of contemporary Halacha, to determine whether the writ as presented to us by the establishment is truly frum or a disingenuous dose of abject religiosity cloaked in frum garb but in actuality krum. As always, this being the Jewish blogosphere, there can be no middle ground.

Today’s Question was inspired by a phone call I received a few days ago. Some of my students are on a trip to our nation’s capital, and a chaperone called me with an urgent question. It seems that two of the boys, who (like me) are Kohanim, had inadvertently been in a museum with mummies and now wanted to know if they need to go to a mikvah. I was surprised by the suggestion and responded that they absolutely do not have to go to a mikvah. It turns out that if you Google this topic, you are likely to find one short article (link) on the topic, where both in text and audio the authority on the site says and repeats that “it is proper” for a Kohen who became tamei accidentally to immerse in a mikvah. That sounds awfully frum, but is it krum? Further research has given me more insight into the topic and, as usual, ever more skepticism about the selective sourcing by some in the frum world.

Discussion: The sole source in the article linked to above is the obscure work “Torah Lishmah” by the Ben Ish Chai. This volume of Teshuvot (responsa) of the great Sefardi sage of Baghdad (1833-1909) is available on, so I took the liberty to learn the entire relevant Teshuva of the Ben Ish Chai (direct link to Teshuva #35). The discussion there is centered on a Gemara in Bechorot, 27a-b.

 ,רב נחמן, ורב עמרם, ורמי בר חמא, הוו קאזלי בארבא, סליק רב עמרם לאפנויי. אתאי ההיא איתתא עלת קמייהו. אמרה להו: “טמא מת מהו שיטבול ואוכל תרומת חוצה לארץ?” אמר ליה רב נחמן לרמי בר חמא, “וכי הזאה יש לנו?” אמר ליה רמי בר חמא, “לא ליחוש ליה לסבא?” אדהכי, אתא רב עמרם. אמר להו, הכי אמר רב: ‘טמא מת טובל ואוכל בתרומת חוצה לארץ.” ולית הלכתא כוותיה

Rav Nachman, Rav Amram, and Rami bar Chama were traveling on a boat. Rav Amram went to relieve himself. A woman came to them (Rav Nachman and Rami bar Chama) and said, “May someone who is tamei met (impure from contact with a dead body) immerse in a mikvah and then eat Terumah from outside Israel?” Rav Nachman said to Rami bar Chama, “(Why not?) Do we have (the ability to fully purify ourselves by) sprinkling from the ashes of the red cow (anyway)?!” Rami bar Chama responded, “Shouldn’t we wait for the elder, (Rav Amram, to return before we answer the woman)?” Eventually Ram Amram returned. He said to her, “Here is what Rav said: ‘A tamei met may immerse and then eat Terumah from outside Israel.” But the Halacha is not like him.

The Ben Ish Chai notes that how we understand this Gemara is contingent on a debate between Rashi and Tosafot. According to Rashi, the woman assumes per force that the tamei met needs to immerse in a mikvah; her question centered around the issue of whether he also needs to wait until the evening to eat Terumah (הערב שמש), as would have been necessary if he had access to the ashes of the red cow. Hence Rav Nachman’s answer that in the absence of the ashes, the need to wait until evening is no longer necessary. Tosafot, however, explains that the woman’s question centered on whether even immersion is necessary, given that the Terumah in question is merely Rabbinic, inasmuch as it is outside of Israel. Rav Nachman’s answer would then be that in the absence of the ashes of the red cow, even immersion is no longer necessary. Rav Amram and Rav clearly feel differently – that in fact a tamei met may immerse and eat Terumah (without הערב שמש), but the narrator of the Gemara nevertheless concludes that the Halacha does not follow their opinion and that immersion is unnecessary.

The Ben Ish Chai concludes that whether or not a Kohen who accidentally becomes Tamei Met must immerse in a mikvah hinges on this debate between Rashi (that this woman and the Rabbis are discussing הערב שמש only, but immersion is certainly required) and Tosafot (that they are in fact debating the necessity even of immersion). But in actuality, given the conclusion of the Gemara, this debate is less than consequential. Whether or not הערב שמש was under the microscope, Rav Amram and Rav clearly felt that the tamei met requires immersion, while the Gemara itself concludes differently (ולית הלכתא כוותיה – but the Halacha is not like this). Yet somehow, the Ben Ish Chai, while acknowledging that Tosafot questions the need for immersion, still concludes that even Tosafot would prefer ideally that a Kohen immerse:

נמצא לפי פירוש התוספות הנזכר, הדין הוא דלא צריך טבילה הוא. ועם כל זה יש לומר גם לפירוש התוספות חיובא הוא דליכא, אבל על צד היותר טוב, נכון לעשות טבילה, כי באמת הכי סבירא ליה לרב ולרב עמרם ולרב ששת. על כן גם לסברת הש״ס, לפי פירוש התוספות הנזכר, אין להחליט ולומר שאין ממש בטבילה, שאין להרחיק הדיעות של גדולי האמוראים מצד לצד

So we see from the explanation of Tosafot mentioned earlier that the law is that immersion is not necessary. But even still, it is possible to say that even according to Tosafot, while there is no definite obligation, it is nevertheless still a meritorious practice to immerse, because in truth this is certainly how Rav and Rav Amram and Rav Sheishet held. Therefore, even according to the opinion of the Gemara, as explained by the Tosafot quoted earlier, we should not be so decisive as to say that there is no value whatsoever in immersion, so as to not simply push aside opinions of our holy Sages.

This is a difficult Gemara to follow through the Halachic process, because, as the Gemara itself says, “לית הלכתא כוותיה,” “the law does not accord with this (opinion that immersion is required),” and Halachic works do not always write things that aren’t the Halacha (although sometimes they do). But perhaps we can learn something from the absence of such a requirement in the Tur and Shulchan Aruch Yoreh Deah 369-374, which, while discussing the laws of Kohanim and Tumah at some length, never mention that a Kohen should go to a mikvah if he comes into contact with a dead body. The excellent new Hebrew book Taharat Hakohanim (link), which is essentially a commentary on that section of Shulchan Aruch, also never mentions such a requirement. The English-language version of that book, The Kohen’s Handbook, while discussing “What Happens if a Kohen Becomes Tamei-Mes?” (Chapter 2, pp. 44-46), also never mentions a requirement for a Kohen to immerse in a mikvah.

All of this makes it somewhat perplexing that the article and MP3 linked to above fixate on the Ben Ish Chai’s analysis, which in turn essentially takes a revisionist view of Tosafot’s opinion and ignores the conclusion of the Gemara and the absence of an immersion requirement from any other Halachic source such as the Tur and Shulchan Aruch. While it is certainly commendable that the Sefardi authority on the website follow the precedent of Sefardi authorities such as the Ben Ish Chai, it should be remembered that, of course, the Beit Yosef was also a Sefardi. The Ben Ish Chai may have meant his analysis to apply more in the context of what even he terms “a meritorious practice” for the particularly pious or Kabbalistic-minded set, yet the impression left by the article and MP3 is that the requirement is more universal than that. Of course, without even Rabbinic Terumah nowadays, or the ashes of the red cow, or a requirement of הערב שמש – and living as most of us do in a state of perpetual impurity brought on by being outside of Israel, or more generally by the lack of the ashes of the red cow – it is extremely difficult to explain what such an immersion would even begin to accomplish beyond the non-Halachic feel-good notion that the Ben Ish Chai seems to be trying to advance. In the Gemara’s case, the tamei met could look forward to eating Terumah. In our case, any practical outcome of the immersion seems to be null.

Verdict: Krum. Notwithstanding the Ben Ish Chai’s Teshuva in Torah Lishmah and its sole use by the website cited at the beginning of this post, I stand by my original assertion that mikvah is unnecessary for Kohanim today, in light of any reasonable read of the Gemara’s conclusion (and Tosafot’s read of the premise of the Gemara), and the absence of such a requirement in any mainstream Halachic text that discusses the subject as a whole. May we merit to see the Beit Hamikdash rebuilt, the red cow’s ashes restored, Terumah re-instituted – and my students needing to immerse for accidental tumat met so that they can perform their priestly duties properly.

Posted in Communal Matters, Frum ... Or Krum??, Halacha | Leave a comment

Frum or Krum: Using the Shamash on Chanukah

The time has come once again for our should-be-award-winning exploration into mores and vicissitudes in the Jewish world and how they stack up to the light of objective research (spoiler: usually, not well).

Today’s question: Does the presence of the shamash in the Chanukah menorah allow one to read, learn, or otherwise benefit from the other candles? If not, may one receive such benefit anyway but presume that this benefit is derived in fact from the shamash?

Background: As we approach Chanukah, the question of the shamash is a thorny one, what with our ubiquitous electric light casting darkness over what was once a surefire solution to the prohibition against benefiting from the Chanukah candles themselves. Already in the days of the Gemara (Shabbat 21b), one who had an alternate light source did not need an extra candle (נר אחרת), unless he was an important person who did not rely on the alternate light source:

תלמוד בבלי מסכת שבת דף כא עמוד ב
אמר רבא: צריך נר אחרת להשתמש לאורה
ואי איכא מדורה – לא צריך
ואי אדם חשוב הוא, אף על גב דאיכא מדורה – צריך נר אחרת

Given that we do use our electric lights exclusively, the shamash would seem to be expendable nowadays. Nevertheless, no competent Posek since the proliferation of electric lights has written that we can definitively do away with the age-old custom of having an extra light by the Menorah. But further obscuring the need to maintain the custom is the possibility that it serves no purpose anyway, as we read in ArtScroll’s aptly named volume “Chanukah” (p. 118): “If someone wishes to do anything needing light, he should refrain from doing it near the menorah, even though the shamash is burning (OC 673:1 with MB).” This struck me as a strange statement. Why bother lighting the shamash if it can’t be used anyway? What purpose is the so-called shamash then meant to serve? This claim by ArtScroll sounds frum, but is it true?

Discussion: Let’s first look at the sources ArtScroll claims to cite – “OC (Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim) with MB (Mishna Berura).” To the Shulchan Aruch we go:

שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות חנוכה סימן תרעג סעיף א
… ונוהגים להדליק נר נוסף, כדי שאם ישתמש לאורה יהיה לאור הנוסף שהוא אותו שהודלק אחרון. ויניחנו מרחוק קצת משאר נרות מצוה. הגה: ובמדינות אלו אין נוהגים להוסיף, רק מניח אצלן השמש שבהן מדליק הנרות, והוא עדיף טפי, ויש לעשותו יותר ארוך משאר נרות, שאם בא להשתמש, ישתמש לאותו נר (מרדכי).

We can already see hints of ArtScroll’s direction from the prevaricating nature of the wording of the Shulchan Aruch and Rama – note the bold words above. Still, we need to see how this is explained by the Mishna Berura:

משנה ברורה על שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות חנוכה סימן תרעג סעיף א
שאם ישתמש וכו’ – ועיין מגן אברהם, שלכתחלה אין להשתמש אצל כולן יחד, כם אם לאור הנוסף [או להשמש] בלבד, כשהוא אחד בפני עצמו, דהרואה יאמר לצרכו הדליק כולן, דלפעמים אדם מדליק כמה נרות, ועיין בבאור הלכה

The Mishna Berura references a vaguely worded Magen Avraham (paragraph 4) that “initially, one should not do things near all of them together, but rather (כי אם) only by the light of the extra candle, when it is by itself.” On its own, this could be interpreted to mean (as ArtScroll seems to assume) that even when it is part of the group of candles but separated slightly, the shamash should not be used, though again the point of having it there would then be hard to understand. But the Magen Avraham might also mean that it is only when the extra candle is by itself that the other candles may not be used, but then, by extension, if it is with them they all may be used. And would the Magen Avraham perhaps consider the shamash to be “by itself” (בפני עצמו) when it is near the group but raised or otherwise separated slightly? We need to see other interpretations of the Magen Avraham, most of which will not read it as ArtScroll does.

The Beur Halacha (the Mishna Berura’s own super-commentary) weighs in:

ביאור הלכה סימן תרעג סעיף א
שאם ישתמש וכו’ – עיין במגן אברהם שכתב, “אבל מכל מקום אסור להשתמש אצלן וכו’,” עיין בפרי מגדים שפירש דאף נגד אור הנוסף או השמש, גם כן אסור לכתחלה

The Pri Megadim, a super-commentary on the Magen Avraham, does indeed interpret the Magen Avraham as ArtScroll does, that the shamash should not be used. But the Beur Halacha continues:

והמעיין ברבינו ירוחם שהובא בבית יוסף לא משמע כן, אלא דנגד השמש, כשמניחו בפני עצמו רחוק קצת מהנר, מותר לשמש נגדו. וכן כתב במחצית השקל בביאור דברי המגן אברהם, עיין שם. אחר כך מצאתי באליה רבה שהסכים גם כן לדינא, דנגד השמש מותר להשתמש. ועיין בשערי תשובה סוף דבור המתחיל “השמש,” דעתו נמי כמו שכתבנו

The Rabbeinu Yerucham quoted by the Tur, the Machatzit Hashekel discussing the same Magen Avraham, the Eliyah Rabba, and the Sha’arei Teshuva all assume that if the shamash is separated slightly, it may be used, against ArtScroll’s narrower interpretation of the Magen Avraham. This seems to be the interpretation preferred by the Beur Halacha, who again is the same person as the Mishna Berura that ArtScroll was supposedly quoting.

The Machatzit Hashekel (another super-commentary on the Magen Avraham) makes the point that the Magen Avraham would allow use of the shamash itself, but not the candles it is “serving,” even though the very presence of the shamash would appear to mitigate the possibility that one is using the other candles:

מחצית השקל על שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות חנוכה סימן תרעג סעיף א
אבל מכל מקום אסור להשתמש אצלן – רצה לומר, דוקא אצל השמש מותר להשתמש, אבל אצל נר חנוכה, אסור להשתמש, אף על גב דאיכא שמש, דנהי דלא חיישינן במה שנהנה מאורן, כיון דאין צריך להם, דהא איכא שמש, וכמו שכתב מגן אברהם סוף סעיף זה [סעיף קטן יא] … ואף על פי שהרמב”ן לא מיירי שיש לו נר אחר אצל נר חנוכה כי אם על שלחנו, מכל מקום, סבירא ליה למגן אברהם, דהוא הדין בשמש, אף על פי שעומד אצל נר חנוכה. מכל מקום, שייך חשש הרמב”ן אם ישתמש אצל נר חנוכה, יאמר הרואה, לצורכו הדליק כמה נרות

The Machatzit Hashekel further assumes that the Magen Avraham, in allowing the shamash to be close to the other candles, is disagreeing with the Ramban, who requires it to be farther away. The Machatzit Hashekel does make an interesting distinction between the presence of the extra candle, which he says (explaining the Magen Avraham) may be close to the other candles, and the location of the activity (such as reading or sewing), which should nevertheless not be done close to the Menorah. Nevertheless, the extra candle may be put close to the other candles – and even should, so that one may then reasonably be assumed to be using that extra candle when engaging in activities elsewhere in the room.

Throwing a further wrinkly into the Pri Megadim and ArtScroll’s read of the Magen Avraham is that the Magen Avraham himself makes a startling revelation a few paragraphs down the page (paragraph 11):

מגן אברהם על שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות חנוכה סימן תרעג סעיף א
מותר להשתמש אצלן – דהא הדלקת השמש הוא כדי שישתמש לאורן! שמע מינה דאם הם ביחד, מותר להשתמש אצלן [דרכי משה]. והב”ח חולק וסבירא ליה דדוקא שמש שעומד למעלה מכל הנרות שרי דמשתמש לאור השמש, מה שאין כן כאן, עד כאן לשונו.

Here, in Paragraph 11, far from doubling down on his earlier claim that the shamash may not be used, the Magen Avraham claims that the entire purpose of the shamash is to allow use not only of the shamash but of all the candles! Not only does the Magen Avraham explicitly side with the broader interpretation of his earlier words preferred by the Machatzit Hashekel, but even the stricter opinion mentioned in this Magen Avraham in the name of the Bach would hold that if the shamash is “standing higher than the other candles” (as ours is), it would be “permitted to benefit from the shamash.” That is apparently the strictest the Magen Avraham can imagine being on the issue. So how does this square with the Magen Avraham’s earlier, apparently stricter opinion in Paragraph 4? Let’s look at it now inside piece by piece, rather than in the briefer form cited in the Mishna Berura which we saw earlier.

מגן אברהם סימן תרעג סעיף קטן ד
שאם ישתמש –
אבל מכל מקום אסור להשתמש אצלן, דהרואה אומר לצרכו הדליק כולן, דלפעמים אדם מדליק כמה נרות [מלחמות]

This was the line quoted by the Mishna Berura. While he could have meant (as ArtScroll assumed) that even the presence of the shamash does not permit the other candles to be used, he also might mean that despite the presence of the shamash, the candles still may not be used on their own, i.e. without the shamash assisting them. The existence of the shamash does not ipso facto permit the candles themselves to be used. This would fit with what the Magen Avraham himself says in the later paragraph (#11) that we already saw. Then, after quoting two other sources, the Magen Avraham concludes thus:

 ומכל מקום, צריך להניח שמש אצלן, שמא ישתמש אצלן

Apparently the shamash needs to be close to the other candles specifically so that in case the other candles are used, we will have a reasonable guarantee that one is in fact using the shamash. Again, this is an indication that the shamash itself is supposed to be used and that it should be close to the other candles, all as the Machatzit Hashekel explained the earlier Magen Avraham. Clearly, the beginning of Paragraph 4 (the part quoted by the Mishna Berura) was not meant to suggest that a shamash cannot be used or that it prevents other candles from being used, a point the Mishna Berura himself made in the Beur Halacha and the Magen Avraham made in Paragraph 11. This would seem to end any remaining interpretation of the Magen Avraham as having forbade use of the shamash altogether (or at least in the way that we lay it out in our Chanukiyot), and the line of argument based on that possible reading of the first line of Magen Avraham #4 by the Mishna Berura, as advanced by ArtScroll, becomes impossible.

Verdict: So what to do with ArtScroll’s frum-sounding statement that “if someone wishes to do anything needing light, he should refrain from doing it near the menorah, even though the shamash is burning?” We label it “krum,” and another example of the English-speaking Jewish world held hostage by books written as if their readers lack the resources, ability, time, or wherewithal to look anything up themselves, especially when, as in this case, no clear source reference is given. As an educator, it is a reminder that the central goal of our profession is to give every student the ability to question, research, and solve problems for themselves, or to consult competent authorities to which they have personal access, and not trust what is given to them in English books with which they cannot interact. A liberating feeling indeed, when we can do it. A happy holiday of liberation to all!

Posted in Chanukah, Frum ... Or Krum??, Halacha, Holidays | Leave a comment

Parshat Mattot: Mi Ya’aleh B’Har Hashem – Hearing the Echo of Diaspora’s Call

By a fluke of the calendar and my travel schedule, I got to hear Parshat Mattot twice – first in Israel, then in America. Parshat Mattot is a difficult one for those who have made Aliyah and like to stick their thumb in the eye of those of us who have not. Clearly, despite his initial misgivings, Moshe eventually comes to accept the request of Reuven and Gad to live away from their brethren on the eastern side of the Jordan for reasons that seem trivial at best. Finding the eternal message in this story, and applying it to our lives today, entails reflection and intellectual honesty.

In exploring the story of the tribes who are granted permission to live on the eastern side of the Jordan River at the end of Parshat Mattot, many questions emerge, specifically in regard to the presence of “חצי שבט מנשה,” “half the tribe of Menashe,” in the story:

1) Presence of Menashe: Strangely,”חצי שבט מנשה” does not appear in the story until 32:33, at the time that Moshe is actually giving the land to the separating tribes, long past the forging of the agreement with Reuven and Gad that they would first conquer the Land of Israel with their brethren and only then leave to settle east of the Jordan. Why the late entry of Menashe into the story? Are they, too, subject to the agreement made with the other two tribes which precedes their introduction into the narrative? What is the significance of their being referred to (32:33) as בן יוסף? In light of their being given land by Moshe in 32:33, why the need for them to conquer land in 32:39-41? Likewise, why the need for Moshe to approve of the conquering in 32:40 (as it seemed to be pre-approved), and why is he silent after Yair ben Menashe’s conquering of the villages in 32:41?

2) Makeup of Menashe: We are told that “חצי שבט מנשה,” “half of the tribe of Menashe,” will join Reuven and Gad. It is strange to see “half” of a tribe do anything, as a tribe is usually of a single destiny. But stranger still is the makeup of this “half.” As the Pesukim proceed, we find two sons of Menashe – Machir (32:39) and Yair (32:41) – conquering land of Gilad. A look back at the listing of the sons of Menashe in Parshat Pinchas (26:28-34) shows that the sons of Menashe are Machir and Gilad. Yair is not listed as a son of Menashe, but Gilad is both a son of Menashe (hence Machir’s brother) and a son of Machir. Remember that Gilad is also the name of the territory conquered by Machir and Yair in our story, at the end of Parshat Mattot. How did Yair become a member of the tribe of Menashe, and is Machir conquering his own son or brother, Gilad? And given that Menashe only has two sons, Machir and Yair would seem to represent 100% of the tribe, not 50%, unless we read the narrative as saying that half of the tribe (namely Gilad) is being conquered by his only legitimate brother Machir (the other half of the tribe) with help from Gilad’s familial replacement Yair. (Yair was actually from the tribe of Yehuda. Concerning his adoption into Menashe, see Ibn Ezra to 32:41.)

3) Novach: In the very last Pasuk of Parshat Mattot (32:42), a man named Novach (נֹבַח) conquers Kenat (קְנָת) and names it after himself. Who is this man, whose name does not appear anywhere else in Tanach? What tribe is he from? Does he have a mandate from Moshe to live east of the Jordan, or does Moshe at least approve of this land-grab post-facto as he does for Machir in 32:40? Rashi tells us that the absence of a dagesh in the word לה regarding the naming of the city indicates that the word should be read לא, because Novach’s renaming of the city was rejected and his sons reverted to the city’s original name of Kenat. Why would his own sons reject their father’s legacy? Compare this to 32:38, which emphasizes how successful Reuven and Gad were in renaming the cities that they conquered. Who is this mysterious man, what is his tribal affiliation and mandate to leave Israel, and why is he seemingly unsuccessful in doing so?

To begin with the end, some thoughts on Novach. Perhaps his lack of tribal affiliation is exactly the point. He is not a Reuvenite, a Gadite, or a Menasheite – he is an opportunist, a member of a different tribe who spies opportunity in the form of an easier life outside of Israel without the work of conquering the land as required of Reuven and Gad. He hitches a ride out of Israel on the coattails of Reuven and Gad, eager for a taste of the “good life” unencumbered by the Mitzvah obligations or military challenges that the Land of Israel entails. Unfortunately for Novach, his own sons turn their father’s legacy on its head, recognizing that he was a non-respectable sloth who sought the easy way out of a life in the Holy Land. His name may never appear before or after in Tanach, but it rings a bell:

אסתר פרק ג פסוק טו
הָרָצִים יָצְאוּ דְחוּפִים בִּדְבַר הַמֶּלֶךְ וְהַדָּת נִתְּנָה בְּשׁוּשַׁן הַבִּירָה וְהַמֶּלֶךְ וְהָמָן יָשְׁבוּ לִשְׁתּוֹת וְהָעִיר שׁוּשָׁן נָבוֹכָה:

תורה תמימה הערות אסתר פרק ד הערה א
כי המלה “נבוכה” שבפסוק הקודם, הוי משמעה כאדם הנבוך ומבולבל מאיזו ידיעה בלתי ברורה, המפילה עליו אימים ולא ידע מה.

The Torah Temimah explains that the city of Shushan being נבוכה means that it was “like a man who is confused and bewildered and has a lack of clarity about a certain thing, which is causing him fear but which he is not fully aware of.” Novach of our story – like the classic nebach that his name would engender – stumbled through the darkness of his life seeking the easiest and most convenient road, the path of least resistance. His own children did not respect him, and his machloket with the rest of the Jews was אין סופו להתקיים, not destined to last (see Avot 5:17).

The moral of this story: Those of us who choose to live outside of Israel, particularly in our generation when it is relatively easy to live there, must make a regular accounting to ourselves as to what our reasons are for doing so and whether they meet objectively meaningful criteria. Certainly there are some among us who follow the path of Reuven and Gad, having made a reasoned decision based on discussion with an objective authority, as modeled by the tribes of Reuven and Gad who spoke to Moshe and whose renaming of Diaspora cities was successful. But from the size and health of Jewish communities all over the globe, particularly in America, nearly 70 years since Israel became a State, it is hard to believe that this is the case for many of us who continue to live in the Diaspora even now. For how long we can continue to follow the path of Novach without squandering our legacy is a question that should give us pause.

If Reuven and Gad stand on one end of the spectrum and Novach on the other, where does חצי שבט מנשה stand? What of their absence for most of the story? Why don’t they ask permission of Moshe to live outside of Israel? Perhaps the answer lies in their apparently superfluous description as בן יוסף. Their permission was not sought from or granted by Moshe because it had already been granted by their ancestor יוסף. Consider the emphasis on the birthplace of Yosef’s sons in their presentation to Yaakov:

בראשית פרק מח פסוקים ה-ו
וְעַתָּה שְׁנֵי בָנֶיךָ הַנּוֹלָדִים לְךָ בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, עַד בֹּאִי אֵלֶיךָ מִצְרַיְמָה, לִי הֵם אֶפְרַיִם וּמְנַשֶּׁה כִּרְאוּבֵן וְשִׁמְעוֹן יִהְיוּ לִי
וּמוֹלַדְתְּךָ אֲשֶׁר הוֹלַדְתָּ אַחֲרֵיהֶם לְךָ יִהְיוּ עַל שֵׁם אֲחֵיהֶם יִקָּרְאוּ בְּנַחֲלָתָם

Yaakov’s reason for selecting Ephraim and Menashe as his own is precisely their having been born outside of Israel; any later progeny who are born in Israel are less essential and are not to be considered as tribes. Yosef picks up on this theme and emphasizes his sons’ foreign birthplace in responding to Yaakov:

בראשית פרק מח פסוקים ח-ט
וַיַּרְא יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶת בְּנֵי יוֹסֵף וַיֹּאמֶר מִי אֵלֶּה
וַיֹּאמֶר יוֹסֵף אֶל אָבִיו בָּנַי הֵם אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לִי אֱלֹהִים בָּזֶה וַיֹּאמַר קָחֶם נָא אֵלַי וַאֲבָרֲכֵם

Onkelos translates “בזה” as “הכא,” “here.” Once again, Yosef emphasizes the foreign roots of his sons on the precipice of their being blessed. The blessing itself demonstrates why their foreignness is an asset:

בראשית פרק מח פסוק טז
הַמַּלְאָךְ הַגֹּאֵל אֹתִי מִכָּל רָע יְבָרֵךְ אֶת הַנְּעָרִים וְיִקָּרֵא בָהֶם שְׁמִי וְשֵׁם אֲבֹתַי אַבְרָהָם וְיִצְחָק וְיִדְגּוּ לָרֹב בְּקֶרֶב הָאָרֶץ

The identity of this ארץ is ambiguous – is it the Land of Israel or the entire earth? Onkelos explains:

תרגום אונקלוס בראשית פרק מח פסוק טז
מלאכא דפרק יתי מכל בישא יבריך ית עולימיא ויתקרי בהון שמי ושום אבהתי אברהם ויצחק וכנוני ימא יסגון בגו בני אנשא על ארעא

The charge to the sons of Yosef – who were born and raised in a foreign land – is to spread out over the entire earth and influence those whom they find there with a spark of spirituality. Like their father Yosef, who never tired of mentioning God in conversation with the pagans around him, it was the mission of his sons to spread out like fish all over the world and imbue Godliness in the hearts of everyone they might find. So it is that in our story, Menashe does not seek the permission of Moshe to live east of the Jordan, nor does Moshe feel the need to grant it, because they have already received that mandate from Yosef. Nor are they subject to the same agreement as Reuven and Gad, because their lack of participation in conquering the Land of Israel is not meanspirited or aloof. Their participation in conquest is expressed differently, as they crisscross the globe infecting all with Godliness. Unlike Reuven and Gad, whose reason for not living in Israel was more physical than spiritual, the people of Menashe are sheluchei mitzvah and not subject to the same agreement.

This begs the question that if both of Yosef’s sons were charged with the responsibility to stretch their legs and reach out to the world, why is Ephraim absent from our story here in Parshat Mattot? This, too, goes back to the origin story in Bereishit, when Reuven was speaking clandestinely to his brothers, unaware that Yosef could understand them:

בראשית פרק מב פסוקים כב-כג
וַיַּעַן רְאוּבֵן אֹתָם לֵאמֹר הֲלוֹא אָמַרְתִּי אֲלֵיכֶם לֵאמֹר אַל תֶּחֶטְאוּ בַיֶּלֶד וְלֹא שְׁמַעְתֶּם וְגַם דָּמוֹ הִנֵּה נִדְרָשׁ
וְהֵם לֹא יָדְעוּ כִּי שֹׁמֵעַ יוֹסֵף כִּי הַמֵּלִיץ בֵּינֹתָם

Yosef strategically placed an interpreter between himself and his brothers, in an effort to carry on the ruse that he was not one of them and could not understand their Hebrew tongue. This interpreter, who knew both Hebrew and Egyptian and could relate to either camp, was none other than Menashe:

רש”י בראשית פרק מב פסוק כג
והם לא ידעו כי שומע יוסף – מבין לשונם ובפניו היו מדברים כן
כי המליץ בינותם – כי כשהיו מדברים עמו היה המליץ ביניהם, היודע לשון עברי ולשון מצרי, והיה מליץ דבריהם ליוסף ודברי יוסף להם, לכך היו סבורים שאין יוסף מכיר בלשון עברי
המליץ – זה מנשה

Thus it is not surprising that Menashe now is the branch of Yosef which presents itself at the opportune moment to join Reuven and Gad in living outside of Israel, in Menashe’s case to create a satellite location from which to promulgate the message of spirituality throughout the world.

The complexity of our relationship with the Land of Israel today has a long tradition. Nine and a half tribes fulfilled their God-given mandate to conquer and live in the Land of Israel. Two tribes sought and were granted permission to live outside of the Holy Land for reasons that seem fairly trivial – the better to graze their flocks. Half of one tribe followed a mandate from Yosef and Yaakov to serve as the outreach arm of the Jewish people, leaving Israel to imbue the rest of the world with the message of God. One man left Israel purely for the “good life” and left little to show for it – his own sons wrote their father off the page of history. Taken as a whole, our Parsha is not giving us an easy, one-size-fits-all directive for living in or abandoning Israel. What we are supplied with here is a series of guidelines for making that decision intelligently in our own lives. May we merit to make that decision wisely, honestly, and unselfishly.

Posted in Communal Matters, Parshat Hashavua | Leave a comment

My Actual All-Time Favorite Moments in Iggerot Moshe

For some time now I have taught classes and posted write-ups on landmark Teshuvot of Rav Moshe Feinstein under the header “My All-Time Favorite Moments in Iggerot Moshe” (link). But it has occurred to me over time that that title is a bit of a misnomer, because while these might be his most significant Teshuvot – on Chalav Yisrael, Mechitza, Mikvah and others – they are not truly my “all-time favorite moments.” That designation belongs to a special class of Teshuvot that would not be worthy of shiurim on their own, but in which we find the topic ostensibly unbecoming of the Gadol Hador, or we find Rav Moshe trying to understand an American milieu with which he was not entirely familiar, or unabashedly did not want to be. Here, then, in no particular order, are my truly all-time favorite moments in Iggerot Moshe. If you have any suggestions of your own, feel free to add them in the comments – I’d love to hear from you!

1) Can You Daven In a Shul with a Flag In It?
Iggerot Moshe Orach Chaim 1:46
My favorite thing about this Teshuva is how he turns on the questioner in the middle. In 1957, Rav Moshe was asked by a Chassidic Rebbe, Rav Yissachar Halperin of the Bronx (link), whether it was permissible to Daven in a shul with an American or Israeli flag in it. After pointing out that even committing a carnal act in a shul would not lower its level of holiness, Rav Moshe pivots to wonder what exactly would bother the questioner about the flag to begin with: All of our shuls are built על תנאי (on the condition that they can be used for non-holy purposes), and the Israeli flag is merely a symbol created by “רשעים” who never intended to invest it with any holiness, either Jewish or secular. Its purpose in the shul is merely “לסימן על מנהלי בית הכנסת שמחבבין מדינה זו ומדינת ישראל, וחפצו להראות זה במקום רואים,” “to signify that the administrators of the shul love this country and the State of Israel, and that they desire to show this in a public way.” In the end, Rav Moshe shows his keen eye for perceiving machloket and spends the final paragraph dressing down the erstwhile congregants for not being sufficiently aware of their own moral shortcomings:

ולכן אלו שרוצים לעשות בשביל זה מנין במקום אחר וחושבים שעושים בזה דבר גדול, אין עושים כהוגן, ורק הוא ענין פוליטיקא מצד כח היצר הרע והשטן אשר בענונותיהם הרבים מרקד בינן.
And therefore, those who, because of this, want to make a Minyan in a different place, and think that they are doing something monumental because of that, are not acting appropriately, and this is just a political matter powered by the strength of the Evil Inclination and the Satan who, due to their great sins, is dancing among them.

2) “Nusach” Sefard Is No Such Thing
Iggerot Moshe Orach Chaim 2:24
Try this one out on your Chassidic friends. To a questioner who wanted to know whether he should retain his family’s Nusach Sefard or adapt to the Nusach Ashkenaz of his shul, Rav Moshe professed to not understand why anyone would Daven Nusach Sefard at all:

הנה ידוע שכל אנשי פולין ואונגארן ורוסלאנד לבד מקומות הרחוקים הקרים וקאווקאז וכדומה, הם בני אשכנז, אף החסידים! ועד שנתפשתה שיטת החסידות, התפללו כולם בנוסח אשכנז … ונמצא שאין להחשיב שינוי מנהג, מה שהתחלת להתפלל נוסח אשכנז, אף שאביך ועוד ב’ וג’ דורות התחילו להתפלל בנוסח החדש, שהרי אדרבא – הם שינו מנהג אבותיהם, ורבותינו אדירי עולם חכמי צרפת ואשכנז. ואין ידוע טעם ברור במה שהתירו לשנות נוסח הקבוע …
It is well known that everyone from Poland, Hungary, and Russia – except for the faraway, cold places, and Caucasus and places like that – are all Ashkenazi, even the Chassidim! And until there became widespread the viewpoints of the Chassidim, everybody Davened Nusach Ashkenaz … So we see that beginning to Daven Nusach Ashkenaz is not considered changing one’s custom, even though your father and the past two or three generations began to Daven with this new Nusach. Because just the opposite is true – they changed the custom of their fathers and of our sages, the great Rabbinical luminaries of France and Germany. And it is not known what specific reason allowed them to change the established text of the prayers …

In other words, it is impossible to “change” one’s Nusach from Sefard to Ashkenaz, because the innovation was having ever changed to this sham “Nusach Sefard” to begin with. The questioner is simply returning to his roots and should feel no guilt in doing so. Reading between the lines, Rav Moshe is relegating Nusach Sefard to a מנהג טעות, a mistaken minhag which should never have been established to begin with and therefore can be discarded with ease. Quite a statement against the many Jews and Kehillot which follow Nusach Sefard.

3) Rav Moshe on Baseball – Is It Permitted to Play? Is It Permitted to Attend a Game?
Iggerot Moshe Choshen Mishpat 1:104 and Yoreh Deah 4:11
Rav Moshe wrote two Teshuvot on baseball, from what I can find, with very different attitudes to the national pastime of his adopted homeland. In an undated Teshuva in the first volume of Choshen Mishpat (the volume was published in 1963), Rav Moshe responds to the question of “אם מותר להתפרנס ממשחק הכדורים שיש בזה חשש סכנה רחוק טובא,” “whether it is permitted to earn a living from the game of the balls which has an extremely small likelihood of causing danger.” He responds that given that the unlikelihood of danger in playing “משחק זריקת הכדורים שנקרא באל בלע”ז,” “the game where you throw the balls which is called “Ball” in English,” which causes injury to only “one out of many thousands of people,” it is permitted to play the game. Indeed, this is the case whether the potential danger is to others or only to oneself, “דמאי שנא מחשש דליהרג בעצמו? דגם להרוג את עצמו יש איסור לא תרצח,” “because why should this be any different than killing oneself? For killing oneself is also included in the prohibition not to kill.” However, you can tell your old camp counselor that it is forbidden to force someone else to play baseball, ,דודאי אין לו רשות להכניס, אף בספק הרחוק כזה, את אלו שלא ידעו, או לא רצו להכנס אף בספק רחוק כזה, “because it is certainly forbidden to enter someone – even in such an extremely unlikely event of danger – who does not know or who does not want to enter into even such an extremely unlikely event of danger.”

Rav Moshe took a much dimmer view of baseball when it comes to watching it as a spectator, according to a Teshuva dated 1981 dealing mainly with the prohibition of ובחוקותיהם לא תלכו, not following in the ways of the non-Jews. In the first section of the Teshuva, dealing with going “לתיאטרון ואיצטדיון ספורט בימינו,” “to theatres and sporting events nowadays,” Rav Moshe first brushes away the possibility that we are in fact dealing here with an issue of ובחוקותיהם לא תלכו, using a similar pattern of thought established in connection with Thanksgiving, namely that if there is a clearly stated reason why the non-Jews are doing a certain thing (in this case, “frivolity and licentiousness”), that excludes the possibility that it is a violation of ובחוקותיהם לא תלכו. However, given that the reason non-Jews go to such events is ליצנות, fool-mockery, this fact in itself establishes a solid reason for Jews to be prohibited from attending. Other reasons given here to avoid such locales are איסור מושב לצים, “the prohibition of sitting among fools,” and ביטול תורה, “wasting time from Torah study,” which Rav Moshe goes on to clarify: “לא רק על זמן זה, אלא שגורם לו להיות בטל לגמרי מהתורה,” “not only the time wasted right now, but additionally that such a person will invariably become completely lost from a life of Torah.”

4) What’s Wrong with Teenage Dating?
Iggerot Moshe Even Ha’ezer 4:60
How about a lot? In 1975, ידידי הצעירים, a friend of the children, sent in a letter on behalf of one of his protegees asking what exactly is wrong with dating outside of the context of marriage, and the boy probably got more of an earful than he was expecting. We already know that the boy is in trouble when Rav Moshe tells us that he is interrupting his summer vacation (the byline is “במעון קיץ סמוך לנוא יארק,” “in my summer home near New York”) to answer the young man in all due haste: “אינו רוצה לשמוע דברי מוסר ותוכחה אלא כשישמע ממני הדבר על פי הלכה פסוקה, ואם כן מוכרח אני תיכף להשיב, שהרי נוגע למעשה תיכף,” “He does not want to hear words of rapprochement or rebuke, but rather he will only hear from me the matter according to the final Halacha, and if so it is incumbent upon me to answer immediately, as this matter is related to a practical, urgent need.” Indeed, Rav Moshe does not spare on the lomdus, quickly deriving from a qualifier in the Rambam (“כלומר”) that even things which will lead to the prohibition of avoiding contact with forbidden relationships – itself a protective fence – are likewise prohibited, thus prohibiting “דברים בטלים,” “worthless things” (i.e., hanging out) as much as kissing, hugging, and touching. Furthermore, while actions which are entirely of the boy’s choosing (such as smelling her perfume) may only be a Rabbinic prohibition, a conversation, which is mutual on the part of both the boy and the girl, would be a Torah prohibition. Rav Moshe worries about the consequences of this meeting on actions which might take place later in the day, and he professes that the prohibition of לא תקרבו, not coming close to a forbidden person, is in full force because the only reason he would possibly want to spend time with her – and not his male friends in whose company he would not be punished – is that she is a woman: “וזה ברור, שקשרי רעות עם נערה הוא מצד חבת אשה ולא רק רעות בעלמא, שלזה יותר היא ניחא  לו עם חבריו הבחורים, ולמה לו הנערה הזה? ובפרט שאין לו כבוד ושם טוב מזה, הרי ודאי שהוא מצד חבת הנערה מצד שהיא אשה.” Finally, Rav Moshe points out the prohibition of Yichud in such a situation would be stricter because לבו גס בה, he is already strongly attracted to her, which mitigates the usual exception of being alone where there is an open door to the outside of the building. All in all, although this young man quite likely kept up his relationship with the girl, he at least could not say that he had not been warned by the Gadol Hador not to do so. Who knows – maybe they read the Teshuva together on the next date.

5) A Glass Mikvah in a Bad Neighborhood
Iggerot Moshe Yoreh Deah 2:91
A mikvah with glass windows in a neighborhood of voyeuristic non-Jews? What could go wrong? Spoiler alert: Rav Moshe feels this would be a bad idea. In a 1964 Teshuva to “הגאון הצדיק מפורסם במעשיו הגדולים לטהרת בנות ישראל,” “the sage, the Tzaddik, one famous for his great actions in the area of the purification of Jewish women,” Rav Moshe addresses the question of whether a mikvah could be built “במקום נכרים שהם פרוצים ורואים בהחלונות כשהנשים טובלות,” “in a place of non-Jews who are licentious and look in the windows when the women are immersing.” Rav Moshe is clear that this is a problem, even in a place where it is not definite that the non-Jews will in fact peer through the windows. In fact, to add insult to injury, a woman’s immersion in such a situation may in fact not even be valid (imagine telling her that when she gets home!). This possibility is based on a situation discussed in Tosafot and Shulchan Aruch in which a woman may not immerse in a river near a port where people may see her, because this may lead to her immersing too quickly due to her legitimate fear at that moment. Therefore, in the case of the port, “רק בדיעבד, באומרת ברי לי שטבלתי כראוי, עלתה לה טבילה,” “only post-facto, if she says she is sure she immersed properly, is the immersion considered valid.” Meanwhile, Rav Moshe rules, the community should find some method whereby it will become impossible for the non-Jews to peek inside the mikvah.

Honorable Mention: Do Chassidim Really Need to Dress Like That?
Iggerot Moshe Yoreh Deah 1:81
No, they don’t. In 1953 Rav Moshe was asked whether Polish immigrants or their descendants need to maintain Polish garb, rather than dress like their Americanized counterparts “שאין חלוק בין ישראלים לנכרים,” “who make no distinction [in dress] between the Jews and the non-Jews.” Rav Moshe points out that the Maharik and Rama allow Jews to dress in the manner of non-Jews if the non-Jews themselves dress modestly and in a manner which does not make their dress distinct enough that it will be obvious that the Jews are copying them if they dress the same way. Even in the latter case, it might have to be stated or known definitively that the Jew intends to copy the distinctive non-Jewish garb for there to be a problem. Moreover, Rav Moshe wonders how we are even to know that our American garb is more non-Jewish than it is Jewish: “ומדוע לא נאמר שמתחילה הם גם מלבושי ישראל? דלא נקבע כלל מתחילה להנכרים ואחר כך גם להישראלים,” “And why should we not say that at first, these were also Jewish clothing styles? For these forms of clothing were in no way established originally as non-Jewish styles and only afterward copied by the Jews.” Thus, Polish immigrants who adapt to wearing Americanized garb are simply exchanging the clothing of Jews in one country for the clothing of Jews in a different country. Which may not have convinced too many Chassidim to run out to Macy’s, but it is another wonderfully colorful example of what makes Iggerot Moshe so unpredictable and engaging for those who take the time to read it – and occasionally be entertained by it.

Posted in Halacha | 2 Comments

Priorities in Mikvah Building

I was privileged to give an adult ed class over Shavuot on the topic of the relative prioritization of building a mikvah as compared with building a shul or school. The shiur also dealt with the relative importance of a men’s mikvah, both objectively and as compared with a women’s mikvah. Click here for the sources. In the write-up below, the numbers and letters correspond to the sources in the shiur at the link above.

For some context, the shiur was given as my community continues its ongoing fundraising and planning for a new mikvah after the last one was condemned due to poor construction, and as we deal with our desperate need to build a shul building so we can finally escape the multipurpose room my 200-family shul currently occupies in an affiliated school that is itself desperately short on space. Hence the not-so-theoretical nature of the questions raised in the shiur. But as I said during the shiur, I am not a posek and the shiur was meant as a source for general reflection or enlightenment rather than as a means of deciding on practical local community matters.

A. Mikvah vs. Shul

In a 1960 Teshuva addressed to a scholar who, from my research, did not preside over a shul or community of any kind, Rav Moshe deals with the question of whether to first build a mikvah or a shul, employing two related Halachot in Shulchan Aruch (Sources 3 and 5). One Halacha (Source 5), related to the Gemara in Megillah (Source 2), states that one may sell his personal Sefer Torah to finance his own wedding. Another Halacha (Source 3), related to a Teshuva of the Rash, further states that one may sell an entire shul building (or a Sefer Torah) in order to finance the wedding of an orphan. Using these earlier Halachot, Rav Moshe extrapolates (Source 6C) that if the matrimonial possibility of even one person (oneself or an orphan) could supersede the possession of a Torah or shul, then certainly the marital harmony of an entire town would supersede owning such holy objects. Thus, Rav Moshe concludes, the building of a mikvah should supersede the building of a shul. This despite the fact that the earlier Halachot concerned selling a shul, while our question concerns whether to build a shul at all; and that the earlier Halachot concerned creating a marriage which otherwise would not exist, while Rav Moshe’s concerns the temporary betterment of existing marriages.

Rav Moshe proceeds (Source 6D) to further extend this ruling to a situation in which a mikvah exists, but is an unspecified distance away from the populace of the town. Even here, Rav Moshe asserts that the construction of the mikvah would supersede the building of the shul because many women will not be willing to travel a great distance to the mikvah, and even those who would normally be willing to travel will be unable to do so on Shabbat and Yom Tov, thus leading to the prevention of their being able to have children or be properly married (the mitzvah of שֶׁבֶת, derived from Source 1). Here, Rav Moshe is beginning to assert his own opinion more forcefully, because the original Halachot upon which his ruling is based concern situations in which the orphan or yourself will have no other means to finance the wedding besides this sale – see the final words of Source 5, אם אין לו דבר אחר למכור, if he has nothing else he can sell. Extending that to our case, in which some women may choose not to drive a distance, or the inconvenienced couple can access the far-away mikvah a night or two later after Yom Tov, is not an altogether obvious application of the earlier Halachot. Rav Moshe continues (Source 6F-G) by explaining that while it is possible to extend the Halacha of selling a Torah to that of selling a shul in order to finance the construction of a mikvah, it is preferable to avoid doing so unless it is absolutely necessary, but he does leave open the possibility that one could sell an existing shul to finance the building of a mikvah.

Turning to a different topic, Rav Moshe concludes the Teshuva by discussing whether it is permissible to build a mikvah in a shul building. While he does not advocate (Source 6H) doing so a priori, he does permit doing so as an extension of the Torah’s allowing the erasing of Hashem’s name in the Sotah waters and the Gemara’s allowing for the embarrassment of Torah scholars in order to bring peace between husband and wife. (See אגרות משה אורח חיים חלק א סימן נא for two more reasons to permit building a mikvah inside an עזרת נשים. It is interesting that the original Teshuva, written while Rav Moshe was still in Luban, Russia in 1939, discusses building a mikvah in an עזרת נשים; the later Teshuva, written in New York in 1960, refers to the earlier Teshuva as having concerned a mikvah in a “חדר בית הכנסת שנעשה להתפלל שם.”)

B. Mikvah vs. School

In a 1969 Teshuva (Source 7) addressed to the leadership of the new Jewish community of (East) Brunswick, Rav Moshe discusses which to build first – a school or a mikvah – emphatically coming out on the side of the school, in large part due to the existing mikvah in the town of Elizabeth, which the map in the sources shows is at least a half-hour drive from East Brunswick. In contrast to the earlier Teshuva, in which Rav Moshe worried (Source 6D) about the women who would be unable to travel to the mikvah on Shabbat or Yom Tov, Rav Moshe dismisses this concern out of hand (Source 7D) in this later Teshuva. As to the women who would be unwilling altogether to travel, these are not even mentioned in the later Teshuva. Rav Moshe does provide (Source 7E) that due to the small outside possibility (“לפעמים רחוקים”) that delaying a trip to the mikvah could impact on the couple’s ability to have children, priority should be given to the building of a mikvah over merely alleviating the financial burden on an existing school’s donors.

As the Teshuva proceeds (Source 6F-G), Rav Moshe allows that the mikvah could supersede the school if there is deemed to be greater suspicion that the lack of a mikvah will curtail women from traveling to a mikvah than that, without a school, the children will fail to be Jewishly educated in some other institution. However, if the suspicions are of equal viability, or if the educational suspicion is greater, the school should be built first, “שהוא במדינה זו הצלה מכפירה ומכל איסורין שבתורה.” Ultimately, Rav Moshe concludes (Source 6G), it is the job of the community’s leadership to determine and weigh such suspicions and plan accordingly. Hidden in the final lines of this Teshuva is a striking confirmation of the role of the town Rabbi and his jurisdiction in matters of town planning, albeit using the guidelines outlined by Rav Moshe in this Teshuva.

C. The Men’s Mikvah

As an aside, it is worth noting why some men use the mikvah daily. This is not, as it might seem, a custom rooted in Kabbalah or “Chassidut.” In fact, although normally Torah study and Tefillah are unaffected by tumah (impurity), the Gemara records (Source 8A) that Ezra ruled that men who had had an emission in the night should go to a mikvah in the morning, as a way of discouraging men from being with their wives every night (Source 8B). However, even in the time of the Gemara, this rule appears to have been honored in the breach. Rabbi Yannai (Source 8B) reports that some people were careful about observing this decree while others were not; Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi (Source 8B) was unsure why any men used the mikvah at all; and Zeiri (Source 8C) reported that Ezra’s decree – or perhaps the decree to wash one’s hands before Tefillah – was officially rescinded. The Rash and Rif (Source 9) report that the prevailing custom in their time (roughly the year 1200) was indeed for men to visit the mikvah in the morning. The Ein Yitzchak (Rav Yitzchak Elchanan Spektor, 19th century) notes (Source 10A) that the Shiltei Giborim says that the Rabbis did not protest men failing to use the mikvah in the morning, implying that it would have been better were men to continue the ancient practice. Rabbeinu Yonah (Source 10B), as well, felt that it was universally accepted that men should preferably continue the custom. In that context, it is not surprising that Rav Moshe has respect for those who continue to observe this daily ritual and considers the building of a men’s mikvah to be a town necessity which can be compelled even upon those who do not observe this custom (Source 11G).

However, the bulk of this 1970 Teshuva, addressed to the community of Detroit, leans strongly against men who use the mikvah on a daily basis. In discussing the propriety of a plan to build a new mikvah on the basis of excluding men at all times except Erev Rosh Hashana and Erev Yom Kippur, a plan which was naturally opposed by some men in the town (Source 11B), Rav Moshe rules (Source 11C-F) against the men, citing the Shoel U’Meishiv (Source 11C-D) that if the women’s protests were based on the perception that the men’s presence leaves the mikvah dirty and disgusting, the women can force the men to not come to the mikvah on a daily basis. He further cites the Ein Yitzchak (Source 11D) that a community has an obligation to build a separate men’s mikvah so that the women will have a clean mikvah of their own! He does posit that perhaps the Ein Yitzchak would not allow the women to kick out the men before the men’s mikvah is built, but he rejects that understanding and instead explains that the Ein Yitzchak’s point is only that despite Ezra’s decree having been rescinded, it remains in full force for those who choose to observe it, thus necessitating a separate men’s mikvah.

In any event, Rav Moshe is clear that women may force the community to build a separate men’s mikvah – despite the additional cost of building, staffing, and heating a separate men’s mikvah (Source 11E) – and that the women may block men’s entry to the mikvah even before a separate men’s mikvah is built. However, if the women have not made it clear that they have such a compunction against men using the mikvah, a community should not assume that they are of this mind and meanwhile should not prevent men from using the mikvah (Source 11C).

These are some of the salient points raised in relation to Rav Moshe’s positions on priorities in mikvah building. ואידך, זיל גמור!

Posted in Communal Matters, Halacha | Leave a comment

Still Rock and Roll to Me: Reflections on New Wave Tanach

A few weeks ago, to my surprise, I was invited to share a 15-minute D’var Torah in the coveted Thursday night pre-Maariv slot at my local right-of-center community Beis Medrash. In the days leading up to my D’var Torah, I was joking with another local YU-affiliated educator about how my D’var Torah would likely be received by the Lakewood-centric crowd. As readers of this blog may have noticed, I tend to follow the new school of Tanach methodology which prefers original inferences based on such techniques as repetition of words, changes of names, continuity in theme, and various forms of subtle wordplay, rather than “saying over” the idea of a latter-day Torah scholar or even a medieval one. If Rashi or another commentary is to be quoted, it is with a similarly critical eye and mainly serves to prove or disprove an independent philosophical inquiry, but not necessarily with objective reverence for the authority being quoted. These are elements of the New Tanach School which began with Dr. Nechama Leibowitz and has continued with Rabbi Menachem Leibtag and Rabbi David Forman and which, while liberating, are far removed from the sort of Divrei Torah usually heard at this Beis Medrash. The standard fare is heavy on quoting earlier or later authorities and telling related (or totally unrelated) stories which mainly serve to confirm, and almost never call into question, the accepted philosophical doctrine. Occasionally a truly sharp question opens the D’var Torah, but it is soon diluted by unrelated stories and does not end up being answered, presumably because the presenter could not find an answer in any book on his shelf, and he did not deem himself worthy of developing his own answer without a guru holding his hand.

The D’var Torah that I shared that night in the Beis Medrash explored the beginning of Parshat Vayigash, when Yehuda remembers that Yosef told him that if Yosef could not “put his eyes” (ואשימה עיני) on Binyamin, the brothers would not see Yosef’s face anymore (לא תוסיפון לראות פני). I asked why such overtly visual images were used, and pointed out similarly visual instances throughout Yosef’s life, noting that whenever Yosef’s eyes or appearance are mentioned, he soon gets into trouble. So why mention “putting his eyes” on Binyamin? I conjectured that as the only other son of Rachel, both Yosef and Binyamin struggled with the question of how to translate their mother’s attribute of beauty (she is noted as יפת תואר ויפת מראה) into a form which did not get them into trouble – a struggle innately connected with their eyes. By asking to connect their eyes, Yosef was asking to see how Binyamin had learned to cope with the same problem that Yosef had struggled with his whole life. Yosef’s three words of advice to Binyamin in Parshat Miketz – “ה’ יחנכך בני” – form a pithy but highly meaningful understanding of this challenge: Beauty is good when it is an expression of Divine will, but not when it is as an artificial superimposition. (See link.) Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, yes, but true beauty is a reflection of the Divine eye above. I wrapped it all around Chanukah – the 8th day (often called Zot Chanukah) is the day which recalls the leadership of Menashe, who was more connected to Egyptian society, underscoring the importance of outwardly expressing the beauty of Judaism to the world around us rather than keeping it bottled up as did Ephraim (Day #7). While seemingly at odds with the Chanukah message, I offered that this is exactly the point of Chanukah – not to reject beauty, but to understand its power and how to express it properly, a message which Rachel’s sons likewise needed to learn.

Sure enough, to the amusement of both myself and my YU-type friend who was standing nearby, the Menahel (administrator) of the beis medrash found me immediately after the D’var Torah and asked, “Where did you get that from?” I danced around his question – the best I could offer was that the piece about Chanukah was inspired by an idea of my wife’s cousin, the Ner L’Meah, in one of his less well-known books, but I had to admit that I had actually completely changed his idea because I didn’t agree with it (as explained at the link above). He seemed surprised by the extent of the originality of my D’var Torah and offered only that he hoped it would not take another eight years for him to ask me to speak again. I heartily agreed, if not for the same reasons.

This experience was still in the back of my mind when I saw that this morning’s Lookjed (a Bar Ilan University listserv for Jewish educators) contained the continuation of a fascinating thread about whether we should stop sending our teens to Israeli Yeshivot because of the possible influence of extremists with ideologies that promote violence or hatred of other Jews or of non-Jews. Rabbi Dr. Shalom Berger translated part of a related article by Yair Sheleg (full article at this link) which posits that the Dati Le’umi community is unduly influenced by an approach to Tanach study which ignores milennia of tradition in favor of a more open and unfiltered approach (what Sheleg calls “חשוף,” exposed). Here is part of Berger’s translation of part of Sheleg’s article:

The return to the study of an ‘exposed’ Tanakh without the filter of thousands of years of traditional interpretation has become one of the proud successes of National-Religious education over the past few decades. It is considered to be one of the central differences between National-Religious and Chareidi education. While the Chareidi student does not interact with Tanakh “as is” and knows it only through the lens of the Talmud, Rashi and other commentaries, the National Religious student comes to engage with the Tanakh itself, connecting with the places where the Biblical stories occurred in an attempt to understand the full historical circle encompassing biblical events and their own contemporary experience. This approach had a heart-stirring romanticism to it, but now its dangers have become clear. The exposed Tanakh writes about revenge; the exposed Tanakh commands to have no mercy; the exposed Tanakh calls for the total destruction of Amalek and the nations of Canaan …

Sheleg’s article begs the question: Did I go too far in implanting my own ideology into Yosef’s head? Did Nechama Leibowitz go too far in extracting meaning from the different names of Yishmael by his various relatives? Did Dr. Beni Gesundheit go too far (link) in creating an original paradigm for Tefillah based on phrases from Yaakov’s dream at Beit El? Is the New Tanach School at odds with millenia of tradition? Are we drifting too far from mesorah and allowing Dati Le’umi children to explore Tanach unshackled and without the guidance of traditional sources which would curtail misunderstandings like the ones of those recent murderous young men? Or, like Reform or Chassidism before us, was the new approach to Tanach conceived on solid ground because its founders were steeped in learning, but its next-gen followers have adopted the ideological skeleton while lacking the substance behind it that makes it function in a meaningful way?

I am only beginning to think about this issue now and am open to being convinced otherwise, but I had previously only thought of Torah Shebe’al Peh as critical to understanding the Halachic areas of Tanach, not the stories of Bereishit or Shemot or the Megillot, for example. For one thing, we have little to go on in understanding such stories through the lens of the Talmud. Midrash is often self-contradictory and is not presented as a definitive or overtly methodological approach in the same vein as Talmud, Rambam, and Tur are in our approach to Halacha. (Nor does Midrash cover most of Nevi’im anyway.) Moreover, the New Tanach School’s approach is not conceived to subvert the valuable Midrashic lessons when they are presented, but rather takes a different tack entirely by re-imagining how Tanach is interpreted, not what its interpretation should be.

Reading Sheleg’s Hebrew article, however, it sounds as if he believes that the stories of Tanach had been understood differently for thousands of years based on a consistent Talmudic or Midrashic methodology. I would argue that those stories had not been understood based on any mesorah at all for all that time.

היסוד האחד הוא הרומנטיזציה של התנ”ך: החזרה אל ספר-הספרים – ודווקא התנ”ך החשוף, ללא תיווך הפרשנות בת אלפי השנים – נתפסה בעשורים האחרונים לאחת הגאוות הגדולות של החינוך הדתי. היא גם נחשבה לאחד ההבדלים המשמעותיים בין החינוך החרדי לדתי-לאומי. אם ילד חרדי אינו מכיר כלל את התנ”ך “כמות שהוא” אלא רק בתיווך התלמוד, רש”י, ושאר פרשני הדורות, יבוא הילד הדתי-לאומי ויתוודע לתנ”ך דווקא כמות שהוא, יתחבר למקומות שבהם אירעו סיפוריו ויחוש את סגירת המעגל ההיסטורי בינו ובינם.

הייתה בגישה הזו רומנטיקה כובשת לב, אבל עכשיו מתבררות גם הסכנות שלה: בתנ”ך החשוף אכן כתוב “ואנקמה”, בתנ”ך החשוף אכן כתוב “לא תחונם”, בתנ”ך החשוף אכן מופיע ציווי להשמדה כוללת של עמלק ושבעת עמי כנען – ציווי שהחוקר היהודי-בריטי ג’ורג סטיינר אפילו טען שהוא, למרבה הבושה, רצח העם הראשון בתולדות האנושות.

Sheleg seems not to have spent much time inside the Chareidi school system, or for that matter inside a Tanach. The contemporary Chareidi approach to Tanach is not to learn it through a different lens, but rather to not learn it much at all. The idea that Chareidi schoolchildren are busy learning Tanach with lots of commentaries and Talmudic insight while the Dati Le’umi children learn it without those things is off the mark. In truth, the Chareidi children are not learning Tanach at all, while the Dati Le’umi children are learning Tanach with plenty of commentaries and what little Talmud there is on those stories, but those פרשנות בת אלפי השנים provide precious little תיווך because they dare not negate the sometimes difficult messages in the text. In particular on the earlier parts of Nevi’im, the פרשנות בת אלפי השנים would never argue explicitly with the messages of אנקמה or לא תחונם.

Having spent years learning Nevi’im Rishonim with various grade levels in American schools, I feel comfortable saying that no accepted פרשן ever negates the simple meaning of the difficult and bloody stories of Nevi’im, and they wade only tangentially into such topics as why Shimon and Levi thought it was a good idea to slaughter Shechem and his nation, or why Shaul felt it necessary to hunt down Dovid, or why Amnon felt it was acceptable to assault Tamar, or why Avshalom thought it was appropriate to hunt down and kill Amnon for assaulting Tamar. These are indeed extremely difficult stories, but no פרשן that I have ever seen – much less a Talmudic Sugya – has provided much in the way of a strong counterargument for these actions. The overriding goal of the commentaries is to explain, not to rationalize or apologize; the Talmud will occasionally call a character to task but rarely provides moralistic rejoinders for future generations to consider.

While I am still thinking about these issues and will likely return to them at a later date, I am not currently convinced that the “exposed” approach to Tanach – or likewise the New School of Leibtag and Forman, and I agree that the two schools are not precisely the same – are to be blamed for the radicalization of Dati Le’umi youth. I believe that even if those youth learned and memorized all of the Tanach commentaries and the entire Talmud, their approach to the stories under question would be largely unchanged. What perhaps may be askew – and this also may be worth exploring at a later date – is that the recent shift to a nationalistic viewpoint after 2,000 years in which nationalism was not on the radar screen has led to the Talmud’s appearing to have yellowed more quickly over the past half-century than it had in the many centuries before that time. The daily concerns of the average Dati Le’umi Jew do not call out to him from the pages of the Talmud in the same way that they may for a non-nationalistic Chareidi Jew or an American Jewish adult or child. But like a young child visiting a nursing home, the disconnect between the Talmud and certain parts of Israeli society is not due to their neglect of the Talmud as much as it is to the culture gap between the Talmud and the modern Israeli Jew.

Left without a primary historical text that does speak to those nationalistic, militaristic, and Messianic concerns in a way that contemporary Jews can understand, the age-old words of Tanach have appeared more resonant, even if (or perhaps precisely because) the primary goal of the Talmud and the Tanach commentaries over all that time was to implicitly ignore those stories as a by-gone relic that would never need to be dealt with in a hands-on way. But then what is a contemporary Israeli Jew to do if the concerns he faces on a daily basis are so hard to find in the Talmud? Has the Dati Le’umi community truly neglected the Talmud, or is it the Talmud which has neglected them?

Posted in Communal Matters, Jewish Education (meta), Nach, Parshat Hashavua, Talmud / Daf Yomi | 3 Comments

The Fall and Rise of Levi, Once and Future Priest

We discussed in a recent post (link) the motif throughout Bereishit of bechira over bechora – that in almost every instance, the firstborn is passed over in deference to a favored younger sibling. As Leah’s oldest two children, Reuven and Shimon should rightfully have received the priesthood and monarchy, but they were passed over due to mistakes they made (see 49:4-7), leaving Levi and Yehuda to share the national leadership. Levi, too, was castigated for his role in the Shechem and Yosef affairs (49:5-7), leaving Yehuda with the monarchy and Ephraim, the younger but preferred son of Yosef, with the priesthood, which then fell to the bechorim after makat bechorot.

What makes Yaakov’s castigation of Levi unclear is that it appears to be overridden by Hashem later, when He tells Moshe that the Levi’im will in fact replace the bechorim in the priesthood after all:

ספר במדבר פרק ג פסוק יב
וַאֲנִי הִנֵּה לָקַחְתִּי אֶת הַלְוִיִּם מִתּוֹךְ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל תַּחַת כָּל בְּכוֹר פֶּטֶר רֶחֶם מִבְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְהָיוּ לִי הַלְוִיִּם

Was Yaakov wrong in assessing the relative merit of Levi? How did Levi’s descendants earn back the privilege which was taken from their ancestor at the end of Yaakov’s life? And why were Reuven and Shimon unable to earn back their lost glory, while Levi had no such trouble?

To answer this question, let’s look more carefully at Yaakov’s indictment of Shimon and Levi in Parshat Vayechi:

ספר בראשית פרק מט פסוקים ה-ז
שִׁמְעוֹן וְלֵוִי אַחִים כְּלֵי חָמָס מְכֵרֹתֵיהֶם
בְּסֹדָם אַל תָּבֹא נַפְשִׁי, בִּקְהָלָם אַל תֵּחַד כְּבֹדִי, כִּי בְאַפָּם הָרְגוּ אִישׁ, וּבִרְצֹנָם עִקְּרוּ שׁוֹר
אָרוּר אַפָּם כִּי עָז, וְעֶבְרָתָם כִּי קָשָׁתָה, אֲחַלְּקֵם בְּיַעֲקֹב, וַאֲפִיצֵם בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל

Yaakov’s two specific indictments of Reuven and Levi, bolded and underlined above, are that “in their anger they killed a man, and by their will they cut off an ox.” The man referenced here is Shechem, whom they deceived into making a peace treaty before killing when he was weak and defenseless after undergoing a circumcision (see Chapter 34, especially 34:25-31). The ox is Yosef, whom Shimon and Levi were involved in selling down the river (see especially 37:21 and 37:26, in which only Reuven and Yehuda come out looking relatively clean). Let’s take these two incidents separately.

After the killing of Shechem, Yaakov castigated Shimon and Levi for failing to take into account the threat that their action would constitute to Yaakov and his family in the future:

ספר בראשית פרק לד פסוק ל
וַיֹּאמֶר יַעֲקֹב אֶל שִׁמְעוֹן וְאֶל לֵוִי, עֲכַרְתֶּם אֹתִי לְהַבְאִישֵׁנִי בְּישֵׁב הָאָרֶץ, בַּכְּנַעֲנִי וּבַפְּרִזִּי, וַאֲנִי מְתֵי מִסְפָּר ,וְנֶאֶסְפוּ עָלַי וְהִכּוּנִי, וְנִשְׁמַדְתִּי אֲנִי וּבֵיתִי

As Yaakov further reminds them at the end of his life, they acted באפם, in their anger, in haste and impetuosity rather than with thoughtful resolve. How interesting, then, that Levi’s descendant Moshe acts so differently when faced with a similar challenge:

ספר שמות פרק ב פסוקים יא-יב
וַיְהִי בַּיָּמִים הָהֵם וַיִּגְדַּל משֶׁה וַיֵּצֵא אֶל אֶחָיו וַיַּרְא בְּסִבְלֹתָם וַיַּרְא אִישׁ מִצְרִי מַכֶּה אִישׁ עִבְרִי מֵאֶחָיו
וַיִּפֶן כֹּה וָכֹה וַיַּרְא כִּי אֵין אִישׁ וַיַּךְ אֶת הַמִּצְרִי וַיִּטְמְנֵהוּ בַּחוֹל

Notice the three-time repetition of וירא, and he saw, in the Pesukim above. As opposed to Levi, who killed in haste, Levi’s descendant Moshe acted more thoughtfully, as Rashi explains:

ויפן כה וכה – ראה מה עשה לו בבית, ומה עשה לו בשדה
וירא כי אין איש – 
עתיד לצאת ממנו שיתגייר

Moshe took the time to consider all aspects of what the Egyptian had done previously and the possible ramifications of this killing for the future. Only after this period of reflection, when Moshe had concluded that this killing would be fully appropriate, did he kill the Egyptian. Rather than act in anger like his great-grandfather Levi before him, Moshe acted with premeditation and forethought.

Yaakov’s other indictment of Shimon and Levi is that ברצונם עקרו שור – by their own will, they maimed an ox, i.e., Yosef. How interesting, then, that Levi’s grandson Amram acts so differently. Rashi points out the length to which Amram went to preserve life, even in the face of great adversity:

פירוש רש”י – ספר שמות פרק ב פסוק א
ויקח את בת לוי: פרוש
 היה ממנה מפני גזירת פרעה, וחזר ולקחה. וזהו “וילך,” שהלך בעצת בתו שאמרה לו גזרתך קשה משל פרעה, אם פרעה גזר על הזכרים, ואתה גם כן על הנקבות. והחזירה ועשה בה לקוחין שניים

After Pharaoh issued his decree that all boys be thrown in the river, Amram and Yocheved divorced, for fear that they would have to disown their own child. Their daughter Miriam persuaded them to come back together, arguing that their actions were worse than Pharaoh’s, for their decree would destroy both the girls and the boys! The subsequent reunification of Levi’s grandson Amram with Yocheved resulted in Moshe, who was sent up the river in a basket of pitch and clay – so much the opposite of Yosef’s being sold down the river in a caravan of sweet-smelling spices. Once again, Levi’s descendant found a way to recompense the action of Levi, adding a soul to the world in place of the one Levi sought to snuff out. Amram and Yocheved used רצונם to create life at a time of great risk, rather than follow the path of least resistance in lieu of Pharaoh’s decree. (There is even a hidden Yosef reference when Amram and Yocheved are no longer able to hide Moshe: ולא יכלו עוד הצפינו. Yosef’s Egyptian name was צפנת פענח.)

Levi’s descendants found ways to close the gaps that their ancestor had left behind. Yaakov’s curse was not incorrect, but it provided a valuable progress report by which Levi’s grandchildren would know what needed to be repaired in order to receive the position Levi had always rightfully earned as the other non-oldest son of Leah alongside Yehuda. Once Amram, Yocheved, and Moshe showed they had learned those lessons, the priesthood could be taken back from the bechorim and given to Levi. Unlike the descendants of Reuven and Shimon, those of Levi identified the weaknesses in their lineage and worked to correct them through positive action.

Beracha is an expression of potential; nevuah is an opportunity to be used or squandered. Levi and his descendants faced the punishment of losing the priesthood, but they also realized that they were armed with the tools to change the future predicted for them. Levi’s descendants heard the call in the dire nevuot made to their ancestor, made amends, and earned back their lost glory. The Jews in Yirmiyahu’s generation heard his nevuot about the coming destruction of the first Beit Hamikdash, but they failed to change the future predicted in those ominous warnings. May we only have the ability to hear Hashem’s messages in our own lives – and the courage to act accordingly.

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