Parshas Vayikra - Proper Prayer

~ Thoughts on the Parsha ~

Parshas Vayikra

Proper Prayer

By: Daniel Listhaus

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם אָדָם כִּי יַקְרִיב מִכֶּם קָרְבָּן לַה' מִן הַבְּהֵמָה מִן הַבָּקָר וּמִן הַצֹּאן תַּקְרִיבוּ אֶת קָרְבַּנְכֶם

“Speak to the B'nei Yisroel and say to them: When a person from among you will bring an offering to Hashem: from the animals – from the cattle and from the flocks you shall bring your offering.”

-Vayikra 1:2

            After getting used to the continuing story of the Torah starting from the beginning of time and going through the generations of Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, and the shevatim in Sefer Beraishis, followed by the relaying of the Jews as slaves in Mitzrayim, their miraculous redemption, the receiving of the Torah, and the beginnings of their story of their travels through the midbar (desert) in Sefer Shemos, we leave the realm of being used to the weekly “story” portion and enter Sefer Vayikra into a world of obscure laws and difficult concepts. With this mentality, there is no doubt that we are reminded that the Torah is more than a history book and more than a book of laws, rather an instruction manual which gives us insight into the mind of Hashem, thereby teaching us how to live most productively in the world He created.

            The parsha begins discussing some of the halachos (laws) regarding various karbanos (sacrifices). The passuk[1] states, “When a person from among you will bring an offering to Hashem...”. Rashi[2] is bothered why as to why the Torah writes “Adam” (a person) as opposed to the more conventional terminology of “ish” (a man). Rashi answers that the Torah is teaching us that just as Adam, the first man, did not bring a karbon from that which was stolen, since everything was his, so too 'you' must not bring an offering from that which was stolen.

            Although this Rashi seems quite simple and logical, it is difficult to understand why it is necessary. After all, even without this Rashi, we certainly know that it is forbidden to steal and logic would dictate that if Hashem does not want us to steal, He most probably would not want us to use stolen goods to serve Him. Even if this would not be convincing enough, for perhaps one would argue that everything belongs to Hashem anyway so maybe He would be willing to accept a stolen karbon,[3] the Gemara tells us otherwise. The Mishna[4] states that one who brings a stolen lulav on Succos does not fulfill his obligation. The Gemara[5] asks that from the fact that the Mishna does not specify which days of Succos it is referring to, it must be that it is a blanket rule for all the days of Succos. The problem with that is that the passuk (verse)[6] states, “And you should take for yourself on the first day...” From this passuk we learn that the Torah would forbid someone from using a stolen or borrowed lulav on the first day of Succos. After all, the Torah commands that the first day it must be yours: not one that you borrowed, and not one that you have stolen. We therefore learn that a stolen lulav is only problematic on the first day of Succos. However, the Mishna does not differentiate between the first and remaining days of Succos and yet still rules that a stolen lulav is passul (no good to use for the mitzva). What is the reason behind it being passul? Rebbe Shimon ben Yochai answers by introducing a concept called mitzva ha'ba'ah b'aveirah (a mitzva coming about through doing an aveirah). In other words, Hashem is never interested in the mitzvos which we  achieve by doing aveiros (sins). The Gemara proceeds to bring the source for this concept from a passuk,[7] which says, “...And you brought a stolen one [karbon] and a lame one, and a sick one as an offering – will I accept it from your hand?...” The Gemara learns from here that we see Hashem equates a stolen animal with a lame animal. Just as a lame animal is lame for life, so too a stolen animal cannot be 'fixed' – even if the original owner completely gives up hope on it, the thief still cannot offer it as a karbon. The Gemara then continues to say that we could understand why before the original owner completely relinquished his ownership from it that it cannot be used, because the passuk in our parsha says, “When a person from among you will bring an offering...”, where we learn that it has to be an animal that belongs to you (i.e – the person who is bringing it). However, as the Gemara asks, what reason is there that a person not be allowed to bring a stolen animal even after the original owner relinquishes all rights to it? The Gemara answers that the reason must be because of mitzva ha'ba'ah b'aveirah.

            We see from this Gemara that even without Rashi's understanding of the passuk that the reason it used the word “Adam” is to teach that the karbon cannot be a stolen animal just as Adam never brought anything stolen because everything was his, it is still pretty clear in the passuk that one cannot offer a stolen karbon.[8] So why is this Rashi necessary?

            There is another halacha (law) which Rashi stresses a couple of times when it comes to karbanos, and specifically the karbon chatas (sin-offering), and that is the fact that the karbon must be brought for its own sake – with the the right intentions in mind.[9] Why is it that the Torah hints to this numerous times and that Rashi keeps pointing them out?

            If we zoom out and think about the general idea of karbanos, it is certainly a concept that is difficult to understand. After all, why are we offering physical animals to Hashem Who has no body or form and Who certainly has no need to eat? The answer is that like all the mitzvos, they are not for Hashem but rather for us to connect to Him. The way we, as humans, were created – part physical with a body, but also part spiritual with a neshama (soul) requires a physical world with means of connecting in a spiritual way. Karbanos serve as a direct telephone line to Hashem as a means of communicating to him whether it be to express thanks, guilt, or any of the other purposes the karbanos represent. When we utilize this communication system, there could be absolutely no flaws on our end or the call will be ignored. Don't steal a cookie and make a beracha (blessing) on it, don't steal an animal and offer it as a karbon. It is worthless, it is not wanted, and it is a slap in the face, so to speak.

            However, what exactly constitutes a “stolen” item? We oftentimes rationalize so many things that the definition of stealing gets a bit blurry. “I only borrowed without permission, but I would never steal”, “I know he lets me take”, and “I know he won't care as long as I pay him back” are only some of the ways we rationalize to help ourselves to things which do not belong to us. Perhaps this is precisely what Rashi is coming to teach us. There is a simple formula to test if something belongs to you and that is to see if there are any doubts. If there are excuses that need to be made, rationalizations to be thought up, or doubts that need to be explained, it is not yours. Just like by Adam ha'rishon, there were no doubts or rationalizations or excuses, because there was no one else in the picture, also when it comes to the honesty of our own things and what we help ourselves to, it must be with the same approach. We should only be calling ours and using that which no one else is in the picture of. This is the lesson Rashi is teaching here. If the Torah would have just written, “take from that which is yours” it would be insufficient because people tend to think that they have more rights to things than they really do. This is why the Torah adds in “Adam”, to teach us that the only things we should consider ours are those things which there is no doubt about.

            Similarly if one tries to bring a karbon with the wrong intention, it is like dialing a number with the wrong area code, and will never arrive at the right destination. Attempting to bring a karbon which is even slightly not our own, or offering a karbon with the wrong intentions will definitely get the operator telling us, “I'm sorry but your call cannot be completed as dialed, please hang up and dial again”.

            Perhaps we could suggest that this is a lesson which not only applies to karbanos and to everyday items, but even extends to tefillah (prayer). Nowadays, while we are in galus (exile) we do not merit to have access to the mizbe'ach (alter) or bring karbanos, but in their place we do have tefillah. When we daven, we have the same ability to ask Hashem for things, thank him, and apologize for what we may have done. However, when we daven we must keep in mind that the same two essential elements that are necessary by karbanos, are vital to davening as well. A tefillah is not allowed to be “stolen” or have the wrong intentions. We must pay careful attention to the way we daven. Are we davening that Hashem should help us succeed, or are we davening that our friends fail? Are we davening that Hashem help raise us up, or that he should push everyone else down so we appear higher? A stolen tefillah is when one tries to use this powerful tool as a means of communicating messages which are bad in the eyes of Hashem. We must make sure that when we are davening we are doing so as an “Adam” – that we are only asking for things which cannot bring any harm to others.

            Additionally, when we daven we must be honest with ourselves as to what our intentions are. Why are we asking for such and such? Is it really for the reasons we say or are there underlying reasons and motivations driving it? Also, are we really davening for Hashem to step in and help us, or are we really saying to Him to stay out of the way?

           

            Theses are the two important factors we could learn from these Rashis by karbanos to apply to our everyday lives and to our tefillos as well.

            May Hashem help us fix our motivations and intentions in order that the communication lines be fully open for Him to accept and answer our proper prayers.

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[1]    Vayikra 1:2

[2]    Ibid.

[3]    See Rashi Gemara Succah 30a

[4]    Mishnayos Succah 3:1 ; Gemara Succah 29b

[5]    Succah 29b-30a

[6]    Vayikra 23:40

[7]    Malachi 1:13

[8]    See Tosfos 30a where based on his question it is clear that indeed the limud of the Gemara that the karbon cannot be stolen is in fact from the word “me'kem” and not from “adam”.

[9]    See for example Rashi Vayikra 4:24 and 5:9

Parshas Pikudei - Life’s but a Journey

~ Thoughts on the Parsha ~

Parshas Pikudei

Life’s but a Journey

By: Daniel Listhaus

כִּי עֲנַן ה' עַל הַמִּשְׁכָּן יוֹמָם וְאֵשׁ תִּהְיֶה לַיְלָה בּוֹ לְעֵינֵי כָל בֵּית יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּכָל מַסְעֵיהֶם

“For the cloud of Hashem would be on the Mishkan by day, and fire would be on it at night, before the eyes of all the House of Yisroel in all their journeys.”

 -Shemos 40:38

            Throughout the B’nei Yisroel’s travels through the midbar (desert), we as a nation were far from alone. Hashem protected us through the wilderness and provided us with miraculous accommodations. One of the most comforting gifts that Hashem gave us at that time was the clearly visible constant protection of the cloud guiding and guarding the mishkan during the day and the pillar of fire filling that role at night. The passukim (verses)[1] describe that whenever Hashem wanted B’nei Yisroel to travel, the cloud would go up and start moving. When it did so, B’nei Yisroel would pack up the mishkan and obediently follow. When the cloud stopped, B’nei Yisroel knew that it was time to camp.

            The last Rashi[2] in the parsha, and of all sefer Shemos, points out a slight discrepancy in the passukim. As mentioned earlier, when the cloud moved, B’nei Yisroel did as well, and when the cloud rested over the mishkan, then B’nei Yisroel knew that it was time for them to camp. The problem is that the last passuk says, “For the cloud of Hashem would be on the mishkan by day, and fire would be on it by night, before the eyes of all Beis Yisroel in all their journeys”. Rashi is bothered how the Torah could use the word “journeys” in referring to the times that the cloud would be on the mishkan by day? The cloud only settled on the mishkan once they were camped, not while they were journeying?

            Rashi offers the following answer. The reason that the encampments, as symbolized by the cloud resting on the mishkan, are also referred to as “journeys” is because it is from the place of encampment that they picked up and travelled again.

            This Rashi seems to dance right around the issue, without clearly explaining the reason. If one would point to a man working and say that he is sleeping, it would be ludicrous to justify such a weird statement by explaining that since it is from sleep that he must awaken from in order to work that he is considered to still be sleeping. Following Rashi’s logic flow, going is stopping and stopping is going, making noise is being quiet and being quiet is making noise, after all, one could only recognize an opposite relative to its lack of being present before doing it. Is it okay to refer to light as darkness since it was necessary to have lack of light in order to have light? How is Rashi answering the question? If he is bothered how could the cloud resting on the mishkan be referred to as a journey, then how could the answer be that that was the starting point of each journey? Of course it was! Just as sleeping is the starting point of awakening, and sneezing is the starting point of stopping to sneeze, so too camping is the start of the next journey. How could we understand how Rashi is answering the question?

            Perhaps Rashi is teaching the following lesson. It is not simply because they traveled from the place that they were camped that the encampments are referred to as travels, but rather because the encampments were just as essential to the traveling as the traveling itself was. After all, the goal of traveling through the midbar was to eventually reach Eretz Yisroel. Every stop along the way commanded by Hashem was therefore a necessary aspect of the journey. Just as us receiving the Torah was necessary and considered a part of the journey even though we all stood in place as a nation and listened, so too the commands to B’nei Yisroel to camp at particular points of the journey were all tzivui Hashem (commandments from Hashem) and were therefore inherently an essential facet of the journey to Eretz Yisroel. Perhaps this is what Rashi means when he writes that the encampments were called journeys because it was from those encampments that they returned to traveling. Had they been detrimental encampments against the word of Hashem or encampments that fostered rebellious behavior that would hinder the ultimate goal, indeed those would not be part of the journey. However a productive encampment on the other hand, whether one needed in order to be physically able to move forward, or one needed because it is inherently necessary as a tzivui Hashem, are without a question considered part of the core journey itself.

            An extension of this idea is the importance of breaks and rest. In order to be productive, people need breaks and need to rest. However, at the same time we must be careful about what occurs during such “down-times” when we have a free moment or need to take a break from our daily routine. If it is something productive in the sense that it will be a neutral ground that will provide a sturdy platform for one to be able to pick oneself back up and return to the main goals at hand then by all means, the break itself is considered an essential part of the journey. However if the hobbies or activities we choose are destructive or inappropriate and don’t provide a sturdy platform that allows us to get back to where we left off, but instead present themselves on a shaky stand which distracts us and makes it easier to slide down than climb up, then such diversion could certainly not be characterized as part of the journey forward.

            May Hashem guide us with a cloud during the day and guard us with a pillar of fire at night in order to help us during our own personal times of encampment that they should not be destructive diversions on shaky surfaces which push us to give up instead of driving forward, but rather be productive ones which are viewed as necessary to continue our own personal journeys of growth forward.

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[1] Shemos: 40:34-38

[2] Shemos 40:38

Parshas Vayakhel - There's a Reason to Give... Even if They Don't Give a Reason

~ Thoughts on the Parsha ~

Parshas Vayakhel

There's a Reason to Give... Even if They Don't Give a Reason

By: Daniel Listhaus

וְהַנְּשִׂאִם הֵבִיאוּ אֵת אַבְנֵי הַשֹּׁהַם וְאֵת אַבְנֵי הַמִּלֻּאִים לָאֵפוֹד וְלַחשֶׁן

“The princes brought the shoham stones and the filling stones for the Eiphod and for the Choshen.”

-Vayakhel 35:27

            Rashi^[1] quotes Rebbe Nassan who points out that when it came to the dedication of the mizbeach (alter),^[2] the Torah relates that the Nesi'im (“princes”) were the first to volunteer whatever they could to ensure that the grand opening of the mizbeach would be a tremendous event with plenty of (karbanos) offerings. However, earlier, when the Mishkan (Tabernacle) was being constructed in this week's parsha, the Nesi'im appear to have been very lazy in their offering to help. By the time the Nesi'im came around to ask how they could help in the building of the Mishkan, everything had already been taken care of. The contributions from every individual of B'nei Yisroel added up to a fund with more than enough needed to meet the expected cost of the Mishkan. The Nesi'im begged for there to be something thought up of that was still needed in order that too should have a share in directly contributing the items needed for the Mishkan. They were told that the shoham and me'luim stones for the Eiphod (robe) and Choshen (breastplate) had not yet been contributed, and happily they donated exactly that.

            As Rashi explains, the Nesi'im at the time of the construction of the Mishkan were not trying to get out of their dues, rather they had a very good reason as to why they did not contribute immediately. Their calculation was as follows. They were very wealthy individuals and figured that they would wait and let the B'nei Yisroel cover as much as they can – and they would pledge the rest. Rashi continues, though, and writes that because of this laziness to donate right away to the Mishkan, a letter was taken out of their name.^[3] 

            This Rashi is difficult to understand. The Nesi'im's offer does in fact seem to have been made immediately and also appears to be the most generous offer of them all. After all, if the B'nei Yisroel would as a whole only be able to collect one-percent of the total needed, the Nesi'im were guaranteeing that they would make sure the other ninety-nine percent of expenses would be taken care of. What was wrong with their method? Imagine for a moment that you go out of town for one week in order to collect for an organization which is suffering from a one-million dollar deficit. You knock on the first door and you start describing to the man who answers about the organization you are collecting for and how they are in need of one-million dollars. He responds that you should work hard collecting money for the week and then come back to him and he will be happy to supplement the rest of the funds needed to reach the one-million dollar goal. Certainly one cannot argue that this person is not the most generous – even if it turns out that you were able to collect all the money needed without needing to return to him. Still, he was essentially willing to give you whatever you needed. He was willing to guarantee that your goal would be met no matter what. This seems to be precisely what the Nesi'im did. How could such a method be called lazy and considered as if they were not willing to give anything from the onset?

            The Sifsei Chachomim^[4] brings from the Nachalas Yaakov that even though the Nesi'im's intentions were good, they made a fundamental mistake. They assumed that even after collecting from the B'nei Yisroel, there would still be something that would need to be taken care of. However, they underestimated B'nei Yisroel's incredible quality of nedivos (generosity). Jews are rachmanim (merciful) and gomlei chasadim (ones who perform acts of kindness. We are a people who have a desire to help others. The tremendous amount of chesed (kindness) and tzedakah (charity) that we are not only expected to give, but want to give is something that is a unique part of us as a nation. B'nei Yisroel share a deep connection with each other in such a way that we really view ourselves each as a part of the tzubbur (community). Each of us is really only a part of a bigger picture and the things that we are blessed – whether wisdom, skills, money, or any characteristic – are not meant for us alone but for the benefit of the entire B'nei Yisroel. Certainly this is something that we experience during this time of year between Purim and Pesach with mitzvos such as machatzis hashekel (half-shekel) – the idea that each of us is only a part of a bigger picture - matanos l'evyonim (gifts to the poor on Purim) and maos chittim (money given to the poor to buy matza for Pesach). The Nesi'im's mistake was that they assumed that after collecting funds from the B'nei Yisroel to construct the Mishkan, that there would still be some opportunities remaining. However, this was not the case. With the money collected, there was even more than was necessary to complete the Mishkan.

            This lesson that we must be like the B'nei Yisroel in the midbar (desert) and view our G-d given abilities – whatever they may be – as things that we must bring to the table to help the tzibbbur, is something that is very true and must be internalized. However, the problem with this Sifsei Chachomim and Rashi is that they seem to conveniently forgetting about the outcome of the story. The story continues that the Nesi'im's donations were actually very much needed because not only had the B'nei Yisroel not gathered the shoham stones, but they as a whole could not even afford to do so if they tried. These precious stones were so expensive, only the Nesi'im had the means to get them.^[5] If so, what was wrong with their method of donation? It all worked out perfectly!

            When Hashem decided it was time to bring the makkos (plagues) upon Mitzrayim, the Torah^[6] relates that Aharon had to be the one who brought the makkos because, as Rashi^[7] explains, Moshe was unable to hit the water or sand. The water had protected him as a baby floating in a basket on the Nile River, and the sand had cooperated with him when he needed its help to bury the mitzri that he had killed. In order to express proper hakaras hatov (literally – “recognition of the good [deed]”) to the water and sand, he could not be the one to hit them to bring forth the makkos.

            The obvious question on this is two-fold. First, neither the water nor the sand did anything extraordinary. The water just did its job of flowing and the sand did nothing more than just be there on the ground. Why did Moshe need to show hakaros hatov to the sand and water when they really did nothing for him particularly? Furthermore, why was Moshe expected to show gratitude to inanimate objects which do not know that anything is being done for them?

            Perhaps the lesson to be learned from here is an insight as to what hakaras hatov really is. Hakaras hatov means recognizing the good. Not necessarily what your friend had to do in order to do the good deed for you, because it is very possible that he did not have to do anything extra at all. For example, imagine someone sees you walking in the rain on the way to shul – where he is heading anyway – and picks you up in his car. In such a case no extra exertion was necessary on his side, but for you an incredible favor was done nonetheless. So rather, the hakaras hatov comes from recognizing what you received and the fact that he was the one who brought the favor to you. How easy or hard it was for the person to do you a favor is not a reason to appreciate it less, only more. The fact that it may have been easy for him to do you the favor should be independent to the value that you place on having received it.

            The Torah^[8] tells us that the Mishkan was built through the highest form of giving – nediv leebo (generous of heart). The B'nei Yisroel did just that and put forth the effort to give what they wanted to give, regardless of what was on the sponsorship opportunity list for the Mishkan. As a matter of fact, the Torah tells us that more than was needed was given. Each person gave all he was able, whether it be his time, advice, or money. The Nesi'im, though, with their approach were perhaps lacking slightly in their nedivos lev. They were more concerned on being able to collect all the funds, when they should have just given according to what they felt they were able to give. How could one give less? Just like when expressing hakaras hatov it is a reflection not on what the other party went through, but rather what you are thankful for and the benefit you received, so too a gift given purely from the heart does not change in size even if others are giving as well. The money towards the Mishkan was more of an expression of love of Hashem and building a house where his shechina could dwell. Such a reason to give resources should have been unaffected by the amount others chose to give.

            The Nesi'im, who were the leaders of the shevatim (tribes), were called to task that they should have better understood what was expected of them to be nedivei lev. Fortunately, they learned from this experience and when it came time later for the Chanukas Ha'mizbeach (dedication of the alter), they were the first to volunteer everything that they could.

            May it be the will of Hashem to quickly bring the third Beis HaMikdash so that we could all have the ability to join as a world-wide tzibbur and each contribute whatever we can with nedivos lev.

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[1]    Shemos 35:27

[2]    Bamidbar 7:1-3

[3]    This is why the word for princes here in the Torah is spelled asנשאם instead of the conventional way of spelling it as follows:נשיאם

[4]    Shemos 35:27

[5]    See Kli Yakar 35:27

[6]    Shemos 7:19,  and Shemos 8:12

[7]    Ibid. in both places.

[8]    Shemos 35:5