The Barley Offering: Mistress or Mastery

Nature in the Parasha - Parashat Naso

Printable Version

Dealing with the Grabbing Instinct

Barley

Every Jewish holiday is an opportunity to practice holy eating. I just completed my annual six-day juice fast coming out of it on Shavuot. While watching everyone at the table enjoying their eggplant parmesan and cheesecake, I was happily munching away at my delicious organic salad. Juice fasting and coming out of it gracefully without throwing yourself into the food like an animal is quite an exhilarating restraint practicing experience. It is an amazing feeling to eat so slowly and mindfully, chewing every bite carefully, feeling satisfied with so little. I experienced that dealing with my grabbing instinct helped me get in touch with my neshama (soul), feeling so much more loving and giving. Victor Lindlahr said, “You are what you eat!” I’d like to modify this statement to, “You are how you eat!” We have a choice to behave like an animal grabbing the biggest piece first, gulping it down quickly before going for seconds, or patiently waiting our turn to eat for the sake of being healthy to serve Hashem. In Megillat Ruth, Boaz “gave her [Ruth] a pinch of parched grain, and she ate, was satisfied and she left over.” Ruth, the mother of kingdom, is a model for holy eating, rectified sexuality and selfless behavior for the sake of others. Note, that these are the very qualities that bring redemption. Together with Ruth, we have gone through the refinement period of counting the Omer of barley, which is considered animal food. During this period, we have worked on self-refinement, becoming less and less animalistic with every Omer count. When Shavuot arrived, we moved from barley to wheat, which is considered human food. The holiday of Shavuot is linked to wheat because two whole-wheat chametz loaves were sacrificed then. Not only food needs to be eaten in measured ways. Food and sexuality are two sides of one coin. How many suffer today in broken families because of unrestrained sexual behavior, when a married man or even woman inadvertently gave up eternity for the sake of a fleeting pleasure? Below I share with you more about the mystical and medicinal properties of barley part of which is excerpted from my book: The Seven Fruits of the Land of Israel with their Mystical & Medicinal Properties.

Animal Food
This week’s parasha tells of the suspected adulteress – סוֹטָה/sotah who secluded herself with a man whom her husband had specifically warned her not to befriend. Her sin offering is a barley sacrifice rather than the usual wheat because barley is considered animal food. The סוֹטָה/sotah brings a barley sacrifice. “Just as her actions were animalistic, so does her sacrifice consist of animal food” (Babylonian Talmud Sotah 14a). Her inability to protect the precious boundaries of her marriage is considered an animalistic act, as we cannot expect an animal such as, for example, an ox to be faithful to any specific cow. “The superiority of the human over the animal is nothing (אָין/ayin)...” (Ecclesiastes 3:19). The word ayin means nothing’ or ‘no.’ In addition to the accepted interpretation, that there is no difference between man and animal, this verse can also mean that the superiority of the human being over the animal is our ability to say ‘ayin’ (No!). (Rav Ruderman (1901–1987), quoted by Rabbi Frand, Parshat Naso http://www.torah.org/learning/ravfrand/5762/naso.html). Therefore, the suspected adulteress sacrifices an offering of barley in order to rectify her animal soul, and to ingrain within her the Gevurah of self-restraint and setting proper boundaries.

Our Actions Create an Inverse Reaction
In my book I link each of the Seven Fruits of the Land of Israel with one of the seven lower sefirot based on the teachings of the Arizal. It is interesting that in spite of the fact that barley is considered animal food and people and animals differ by the animals’ inability to practice self-restraint, barley corresponds to גְּבוּרָה/gevurah – restraint. The sotah brings a barley offering, for barley embodies the power of all the gevurot (Arizal, Sefer HaLikutim, Parashat Ekev, chapter 8). Perhaps, this teaches us that the nature of the world is such that our actions create an inverse reaction. For example, when we give of ourselves to someone, the recipient of our giving becomes the receiver. When we act unrestrained, we create a constricted reality. This explains that only when we keep the laws and rules in the Torah do we become truly free. Animals that do not have this ability are relegated to a world of limitations embodied by the constrained barley animal-food.

The Boundaries of Measure
When we measure something, we determine its particular boundaries. Barley corresponds to the boundaries of measurement. The root of the Hebrew word for barley, ש-ע-ר /sin-ayin-reish with the ו, consists of the same letters as the Hebrew word for measurement, שִׁעוּר/shiur. This term is often used in Jewish law, as for example one needs to eat a certain שִׁעוּר/shiur – amount, in order to be required to recite an after-blessing (See for example Rav Shlomo Ganzfried, Ungvar, קיצור שולחן ערוך/Kitzur Shulchan Aruch, 54:8). We also use the term שִׁעוּר/shiur to refer to a Torah class. Many people may not be aware, however, that a שִׁעוּר/shiur implies that the class takes place within a certain time frame, and must begin and end on time. It is also interesting to notice that a grain of barley is used to determine the minimum measure that negative spirits may control. Therefore, the Egyptians were unable to replicate the plague of lice, “for the demon is powerless over a creature smaller than a barley seed” (Rashi, Exodus 8:14). Perhaps the reason for this is that whatever is beyond measure belongs exclusively to the Divine domain.

In Praise of Barley
From what we have written so far, it seems as if barley is a lower kind of food not worthy for human consumption. However, this is far from the truth. By way of contrast, barley teaches us to behave like a mentch rather than let our impulses lose. Barley also has many nutritional benefits. In my book, I quote Rambam who teaches that barley cereal has cleansing properties. It cleans the respiratory system and dries up mucus. Barley is also cooling, especially for the eyes. Lentils have opposite qualities to barley and balance it. Therefore, a dish cooked from a mixture of barley and lentils is especially beneficial (Nisim Krispil, Medicinal Herbs of the Rambam, p. 208). I also explain there, how Barley is an excellent source of dietary fiber, iron, phosphorus, magnesium, manganese, selenium, and thiamin. It is also a great source of niacin, riboflavin and vitamin B6.

Each of the seven fruits of the land has their own song in the פֶּרֶק שִׁירָה/Perek Shirah – Nature’s song. In my book I have a section from Nature’s Song, beautifully illustrated, for each of the seven fruits. I will conclude with the Song of Barley from my book.

The Song of Barley: “A prayer of the poor, when he wraps himself and pours out his trouble before Hashem” (Psalms 102:1). Barley is ‘poor man’s food.’ When a person is hungry and has nothing to eat, he is happy to receive even barley. From this we may learn that when we are, G*d forbid, in trouble, we must stand with a broken heart like a pauper who stands in the doorway all wrapped up. We must, likewise, wrap ourselves and pour out our trouble in heartfelt prayer to Hashem. Then Hashem will hear our prayer and redeem us (Album Perek Shirah, quoting Rav Ya’acov Emden, HaYa’avetz and Rav Moshe MiTrani, (Hamabit), Beit Elokim).

May Hashem hear our prayer and help us on the windy road to true freedom through exercising proper boundaries in our lives through mindful motivational mastery!

The Whisper of the Wilderness

Nature in the Parasha - Parashat Bamidbar
(This article is inspired by student articles written by Aharona Ganz and Chaya Berdugo)

Printable Version

Hearing the Sound of Silence – the Divine Voice Within

The Judean Desert

Here in Bat Ayin we live at the edge of the wilderness. We have green springs and yellow summers. Just a 20 minute drive southeast will take us to the Judean desert where it is yellow most of the year with wisps of green. Here in Bat Ayin we enjoy the benefits of the dry rather than moist heat and the cool summer desert nights. Yet, we also enjoy the cleansing rain and soothing dew that caresses growing plants, from wild weeds to fertile fruit trees. While I love the lush green blooming fruitfulness of the Judean hills, I can appreciate the serene, silent, sandy, desert. The desert is a place so seemingly silent, and yet Hashem knows that it says so much. Therefore, He chose it as the backdrop from the giving of the living Torah, which is compared to black fire upon white fire (Midrash Tanchuma, Bereishit 1). The Hebrew word מִדְבַּר/midbar – desert is related to מְדַבֵּר/medaber, which means ‘to speak.’ The wilderness speaks – When we enter the vast open empty space of the wilderness, we are able to hear the sound of silence. Without the humdrum distractions of technical devices, mundane chores that need to get done, the constant background noises of cars driving by, we can turn inwardly to the Divine voice within. We can re-evaluate who we really are and learn to live more meaningful lives. When we tune into ourselves we may become aware of some of the deeper processes we are going through which we often repress through overeating and “workcoholism.” In the desert we can experience the detachment needed to be able to speak to G-d from the heart, and attain the clarity of hearing His answers. The desert speaks to us if we can silent the ongoing chatter inside of us for long enough to hear the words that Hashem has been crying out to us for years, while we have been too afraid to listen. The desert gives us a glimpse of the infinite, the timelessness of Hashem’s beauty and the vastness of open space, which is so needed for those of us who have been swarmed with the commercial jingles of fluorescent lighting, traffic jams, billboards and skyscrapers that obscure the view of getting in touch with our core. Our souls are infinite yet trapped inside a finite body with restrictions of time and space. It is the spiritual and emotional baggage that blocks our souls from coming out to full expression, and our ears from hearing the silent song of our souls. Leaving behind all the flicker of our surrounding electronics from computer monitors to smartphones and going out into the wilderness can help us melt away any spiritual and emotional blocks and thus enable us to reconnect and recharge our souls. Now, before the giving of the Torah Hashem takes us by the hand, leading us to the empty space, which serves as a clean white piece of paper, where we can take time to contemplate let go of any attachments and prepare ourselves for receiving the black letters of the Torah. It is always so much pressure when Shabbat flows into the holiday. Yet on the other hand, it is a gift to enter Shavuot directly from Shabbat, the Shabbat of Parashat Bamidbar – “In the Desert.” This Shabbat give us the opportunity to take the time to listen to the silent whisper of the wilderness that pierces the soul.

Becoming Desolate like the Desert to Deserve Torah

ספר במדבר פרק א פסוק א וַיְדַבֵּר הָשֵׁם אֶל משֶׁה בְּמִדְבַּר סִינַי

“Hashem spoke to Moshe in the wilderness of Sinai…” (Bamidbar 1:1).

The Torah was given with three things: with fire, water and wilderness. With fire as it states, “The entire mountain of Sinai was smoking because Hashem descended upon it with fire (Shemot 19:18). With water as it states, “Oh Hashem, when you came forth from Seir, when you marched forth from the field of Edom, the earth trembled; the heavens dripped, yea, the clouds dripped water” (Shoftim 5:4). In wilderness as it states, “Hashem spoke to Moshe in the wilderness of Sinai” (Bamidbar 1:1). Why was the Torah given through these three things? To teach you that just as these things are free for all people in the world, also the Torah is free for anyone who desires it. Similarly, it states, “Ho, all who are thirsty, come for water” (Yesha’yahu 55:1). Why was the Torah given in the wilderness, to teach you that a person cannot acquire Torah until he has made himself הֶפְקֶר/hefker – ownerless like the desert (Midrash Bamidbar Rabbah 1:7). The word hefker is hard to translate. It seems to me that in this context it refers to being free of attachments, like the empty desolate desert, which consists of nothing but a vast space of emptiness. This is also, why the Torah is compared to water, as water descends from a high to a low place. Similarly the words of Torah pass over the arrogant person and settles with the humble. For the same reason Hashem gave the Torah at Mt. Sinai – the very lowest mountain. Living in the desert or just spending some time there is truly a humbling experience. When we shed all the comforting trappings to be alone with the essentials and ourselves, we realize that money, possessions, career, title are only exterior wrappings. They do not entail any intrinsic value. It takes the humility of the desert to experience the greatness of ‘being’ rather than ‘having.’ Therefore, “the Torah was only given to those who ate manna” Mechilta b’Shalach 17). To those who do not seek luxury, but desire only the minimum to sustain their souls. “Such is the way of Torah: Bread with salt you shall eat, water in small measure you shall drink, and upon the ground you shall sleep; live a life of deprivation and toil in Torah. If so you do, ‘fortunate are you, and good is to you’ (Tehillim 128:2): fortunate are you in this world, and it is good to you in the World to Come” (Pirkei Avot 6:4).

Decluttering Desert Drive
The Torah was given in the bare wilderness to teach us that in order to become steeped in Torah we need to live simple lives devoid of luxuries. However, today even the bare necessities like good bread without toxic additives and good chlorine-free water has become a luxury! It is hard to return to simplicity in a world where we are so bombarded with advertisement for endless amounts of items, which supposedly will enhance our lives. The secret is to minimize what we buy and bring into our space and just keep a few quality items that we enjoy. For example, instead of all kinds of cosmetic products, I stay with basic stables like coconut oil, which is a perfect makeup remover, body lotion and even face-cream. I use shea-butter as a heavy hand and foot-cream that protects the skin before and after gardening and doubles up as a lip balm for parched and sundried lips. I would love to learn to minimize other areas in my life; being a collector, this is not easy. We tend to collect too many words as well. Who has time to read all of these emails and articles in our excess overflow society? Each time I sit down at the computer to write my weekly Nature in the Torah, I decide I am going to keep it brief, but somehow the words sneak in. I think my writing is not good enough if I don’t add more. Perhaps this insecurity about our own self-worth is the underlying reason why we think we need so much. It is possible that the desire for excess expensive pampering comes to fill the void feeling of unworthiness. Allowing the Torah to fill us with value and meaning may help us appreciate the free pleasures such as taking a brisk walk with our loved ones. When it really comes down to it, we can manage with so much less than what we have. We spend the first half of our lives accumulating things, then the rest of our lives trying to rid ourselves of all the extras. We all know what happens to the things we put in storage. When we find these boxes a year or so later, we can’t believe we ever needed any of this stuff. Driving through the desert, we pass numerous Bedouin enclaves where families live in bare minimum tent colonies, a remnant of how people used to live thousands years ago. I’m always amazed and in awe of how these people can live this way today in our modern world. Somehow, the desert is conducive to deep decluttering.

Walking in Avraham’s Path of Simplicity
The numerical value of the word מִדְבַּר/midbar – desert is 248. This is the number of positive mitzvot in the Torah. The concept of the desert facilitates our receiving the Torah and its mitzvot. It teaches us to be like the desert free of distractions that takes us away from keeping the mitzvot of the Torah. The name אַבְרָהָם/Avraham also shares the gematria of 248. Avraham was like the desert because he needed nothing for himself. In this way, he was like the sand of the desert that absorbs nothing, recharging with every day in the sunshine. Avraham became recharged through his constant giving to others. Becoming like the desert is like being an empty channel – a clean conduit without sediments for Hashem’s goodness to flow through. Avraham perfected the level of loving Hashem. He had no unrectified fears. It is our fears that makes us hold on to things, like holding on to a rope or a stick that we think may save us from ourselves. Sometimes, we cushion ourselves with layers of excess stuff, because we are afraid to face our naked selves. The desert is a powerful place to discover the pieces inside of our true selves. Here we can strip ourselves of all the non-essentials and allow the daily complexities to settle into simplicity. In the desert, we can reconnect with our soul – the part of us that guides the journey into truth – Avraham’s journey of understanding, love, connectivity and healthy relationships.

May we merit to walk in Avraham’s path of simplicity feeling perpetual fulfillment through keeping Hashem’s Mitzvot. Shavuot Sameach!

The Desolate Land from Desert to Bloom

Nature in the Parasha - Parashat B’Chukotai 

Printable Version

Berot trip helping at a Gush Katif nursery in 2005

From my window I am greeted by blooming pea-flowers, roses and jasmines. Their pleasant scent enthralls me as I walk to my backyard to pick a full basket ripened loquats, the first fruits of the holy shemitta crop. I thank Hashem for the abundance on our land, which just 20 years ago before we settled here, was a dry disarray of thorns and prickles. It is amazing to have experienced this transformation from desolation to fruitfulness. As a teenager, surrounded by pro-Palestinian propaganda, I recall an exhibition at a hippy dippy café, called “The House,” which was the gathering place where my friends and I used to hang out. The exhibition was called, “The Desolate Land.” Its aim was to disprove the notion that ‘Palestine’ was desolate prior to Jewish settlement at the end of the 19th century. I remember viewing walls lined with photos of nomads and other ‘Palestinians’ who were farming a fruitful land of ‘Palestine’ before the Jewish emigration and subsequent establishment of the State of Israel. At that time, I felt an identification with the poor ‘Palestinians’ – the true indigenous people who lived in harmony with nature for generations, cruelly expelled and made into miserable dejected refuges by self-absorbed Zionist imperialists. Until this day, many of my old friends in Denmark, even the Jewish ones still feel this way. But is it true that the land of Israel indeed was flourishing during the Islamic rule? The Torah teaches us otherwise. The fate and fruitfulness of the land of Israel is totally dependent on its relationship with the Jewish people. As part of the many curses enumerated in this week’s Torah reading, if we don’t follow Hashem’s directives, the Torah tells us that the land of Israel will lay completely fallow and desolated to the degree that people will be astounded by its desolation:

ספר ויקרא פרק כו פסוק לב וַהֲשִׁמֹּתִי אֲנִי אֶת הָאָרֶץ וְשָׁמֲמוּ עָלֶיהָ אֹיְבֵיכֶם הַיּשְׁבִים בָּהּ

“I will make the land desolate and your foes who dwell upon it shall be astonished at it” (Vayikra 26:32).

The Silver Lining in the Cloud of Desolation
Rashi explains that this curse is a blessing in disguise, “This is a kindly measure for Israel, that the enemies will find no satisfaction in their (the Israelites) land, and so it would become desolate of its inhabitants (the enemies) (Rashi, Vayikra 26:32). For centuries, the Christian church claimed that the desolation of the Land of Israel was proof that G-d had rejected the Jewish People. Ramban testifies to the contrary. He elaborates on the good tidings that Hashem is telling us that within all of our exiles, our land will not open herself to receive our enemies. This is a great proof and promise for us. “In the entire world you won’t find a land so good and so wide open, which had been settled from the beginning of time, but then became so desolate. Since we were exiled from it, it didn’t allow any other nation to settle within it, even though everyone kept trying unsuccessfully” (Ramban, Vayikra 26:16). Indeed, throughout the millennia – as numerous empires conquered the Land, and fought countless wars for its possession – astonishingly, no conqueror ever succeeded in permanently settling Israel or causing the desert to bloom. This made it easier for the Jewish people to return and resettle their homeland – what a hidden blessing.

From Fruitfulness to Wasteland Testimonials
Prior to the Roman exile, Josephus Flavius testified to the abundance in Eretz Yisrael: “For it is an extremely fertile land, a land of pastures and many varieties of trees.... The entire land is planted by her inhabitants and not one stretch of earth is left uncared for. Because the Land is blessed with such goodness, the cities of the Galilee and numerous villages are densely populated. Even the smallest of villages boasts of at least 15,000 inhabitants” (Josephus Flavius, The Jewish Wars).

In 1260, the Ramban, writing to his son from Eretz Yisrael, gave a very different picture: “What shall I tell you concerning the condition of the Land... She is greatly forsaken and her desolation is great... That of greater holiness is more desolate than that of lesser holiness. Jerusalem is most desolate and destroyed” (Ramban, Letter to his Son).

Six centuries later, in 1867, Mark Twain found the Land in similar condition: “A desolate land whose soil, though more than sufficiently rich, produces only thorn bush and thistle – a silent mourning expanse. There exists here a state of neglect that even the imagination is incapable of granting the possibility of beauty of life and productivity. We arrived in peace to Mount Tabor...we did not see a soul during the entire journey...everywhere we went there was no tree or shrub....The Land of Israel dwells in sackcloth and ashes. The spell of a curse hovers over her, which has blighted her fields and imprisoned the might of her power with shackles.” Twain saw the desolation as so great that he wrote: “The Land of Israel is a wasteland...The Land of Israel is no longer to be considered part of the actual world...” (Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad or the New Pilgrim’s Progress 1867). This statement by Mark Twain is a complete fulfillment of the astonishment over the desolation of the Land of Israel that our Torah verse predicted.

Returning to Bloom – the Most Revealed Sign of Redemption
During all our exiles, our Land has never accepted our enemies. It has refused to be fertile, so that no other nation would settle in it permanently. An army may conquer territory, but to establish a permanent settlement requires the co-operation of the Land. This explains why Rabbi Abba said, there is no more revealed end [of days] than that which it states: “But you, O mountains of Yisrael, you shall shoot forth your branches, and yield your fruit to my people of Israel….” (Yechezkiel 36:8; Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 98a). Maharsha explains, “there is no more revealed end of days than this for as long as Israel does not dwell on its Land, the Land does not give her fruits as she is accustomed. However, when she will begin to flower again, and give of her fruits, this is a clear sign that the end – the time of the Redemption – is approaching, when all of Israel will return to its Land” (Maharsha, Sanhedrin 98a). We are fortunate to thank G-d, having experienced this return and this blossoming of the land in our recent time.

Agricultural Paradise
I personally heard from a previous Gush Katif resident that when the first tomato plant sprouted forth in the desert of Aza, all the surrounding Arab farmers clapped their hands in praise and amazement. They had tried for decades, but were unable to grow even a mustard seed in these sand dunes. Gush Katif’s agriculture achieved international recognition and was a significant part of Israel’s export. The Gush Katif farmers were determined to make the desert blossom against all odds, in a desolate, bare and sandy place. The land of Israel responded to their efforts, the unique conditions, the challenging reality, and the connection between the farmers and the Rabbis brought about Halachic innovations, and the development of new agricultural methods which stood up to the highest standards – including Halachic ones. Unfortunate as soon as the Israeli army carried out the Cabinet's decision and forcibly remove the 8,600 residents of Gush Katif from their homes in August 2005, the blossoming agriculture of the area went down the drain. This is in spite of the fact that The Economic Cooperation Foundation, funded by the European Union purchased the greenhouses for $14 million and transferred ownership to the Palestinian Authority, so that the 4,000 Arabs employed to work in them could keep their jobs (http://www.nytimes.com/2005/08/18/nyregion/18donate.html?_r=1).

Dramatic Downturn of Agriculture in Aza
In spite of the efforts and donations to help the Arabs keep the successful agriculture going in Aza after Israel’s withdrawal, fewer people are able to sustain their source of livelihoods from agriculture in the area. The percentage of Arab labor force working in agriculture went down from 12.7% ( 2007) to 7.4% (2009), (Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics (PBCS). 2009). (I cannot find more current statistic about the agriculture in Aza but I am positive that it keeps declining after the Jewish people no longer live there). This stands in sharp contrast to the agricultural abundance prior to Israel’s withdrawal, when the agricultural produce of Gush Katif represented some 10% of all agricultural produce raised in Israel; accounted for 65% of Israel's organic export industry; 90% of Israel's bug-free leafy vegetables; 45% of tomato exports and 95% of Israel's cherry tomato exports; 60% of Israel's herb exports; (http://www.jewishagency.org/ disengagement/content/26369). Ironically the decision of the farmers of Gush Katif to leave their greenhouses intact in Gush Katif, was initially greatly opposed by agriculture Minister Yisrael Katz who argued that leaving the greenhouses to the Palestinians would lead to a tough competition between Palestinian and Israeli produce in Europe's markets. (http://www.haaretz.com/news/israel/gush-katif-s-farmers-to-leave-greenhouses-to-palestinians-1.164847). It seems like Yisrael Katz could have saved his worry had he studied the Ramban on Vayikra 26:16 regarding the desolation of the land.

Sign of the Rightful Suitor of the Land
Eretz Yisrael is compared to a faithful wife told that her husband suffers in a foreign jail from which he will never return. Nevertheless, she waits for him, accepting no suitor in his place, convinced that one day, he will return. The following metaphor also applies to the relationship of the Land of Israel with the people of Israel: Two different young suitors requested the hand of a young woman from her father. He told them to ask the young woman directly to make her choice. When one of them turned to her, he got a slap in the face, whereas the young woman responded with a smile to the other. Many nations came to the Land of Israel but she gave them the cold shoulder, yet she receives the Jewish people with the greatest smile. Is there a clearer sign who is her rightful suitor? (Rav Shlomo Aviner, Planting in the Land of Israel, a Messianic Sign, part of Planting in the Land, The Institute of the Torah and the Land, (Hebrew) p.122).

The Redemptive Secret of the Yovel Year

Nature in the Parasha - Parashat B’Har

Printable Version

Personal Plot of Land for Expressing Spiritual Essence

ספר ויקרא כה:י

 וְקִדַּשְׁתֶּם אֵת שְׁנַת הַחֲמִשִּׁים שָׁנָה וּקְרָאתֶם דְּרוֹר בָּאָרֶץ לְכָל ישְׁבֶיהָ יוֹבֵל הִוא תִּהְיֶה לָכֶם וְשַׁבְתֶּם אִישׁ אֶל אֲחֻזָּתוֹ וְאִישׁ אֶל מִשְׁפַּחְתּוֹ תָּשֻׁבוּ

“You shall sanctify the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout all the land to all its inhabitants: it shall be a jubilee for you; each of you shall return to his estate, and each of you shall return to his family” (Vayikra 25:10).

Although I have returned to what I believe is my personal estate in Israel, I have still not returned to my family. The challenge of being far away from family is an unnatural painful situation. When we reach the final redemption, all family members will live close to one another, even within our extended families, as we all come from the same soul group and our destinies are intertwined. During my childhood in Denmark, I was also separated from family, as my maternal grandparents made Aliyah to Israel. Wherever we lived, I enjoyed being surrounded by pleasant gardens. I remember, as a child, planting my own vegetable garden, and praying to Hashem that the seeds would grow and show the way to freedom and peace, chasing away all evil and hatred. This was my debut connecting gardening and spirituality. After my two sisters and I left the nest, my parents moved into an apartment with only a balcony for flowers. Meanwhile, my husband and I received a nice piece of land in the heart of Israel – the Judean hills.

The laws of Yovel (jubilee) Year, which only applies to the Land of Israel when the majority of Jews live here, teaches us that each family had an allotted plot of land in Israel that they would return to every fifty years during biblical and temple times. Even if they had sold it or rented it out in the meantime, when Yovel Year kicked in, each family was to return to their own inherent land, and this is called “liberty” in the Torah. Actually, people would know in advance to sell their land only until the Yovel Year, the value of the land would decrease based on the proximity to the Yovel Year. “In buying from your neighbor, you shall deduct only for the number of years since the Yovel, and in selling to you, he shall charge you only for the remaining crop years. The more such years, the higher the price you pay, the fewer such years, the lower the price, for what he is selling you is a number of harvests (Vayikra 25,15-16). This implies that when all Jews return to live on the land of Israel, we are bound to our particular plot of land, and can never sell it for good.

Why is this principle called “freedom” in the Torah? It seems like the rules of being unable to sell one’s land is a limitation rather than a freedom. When the land of Israel was originally conquered in the time of Yehoshua, it was divided between the tribes and within the tribes, each family had their own particular plot to call theirs. This plot would be like their extended self an indivisible part of themselves, which would outlive them and extend their memory as we learn from Megillat Ruth 4:5 “To establish the name of the dead upon his inheritance.” Just as every person has a body and soul, and the body encases the soul and helps it ambulate within this world, a Jew has a body to his body, which is his piece in the Land of Israel. This plot is his extended self through which he can truly manifest the essence of his soul. Actualizing and manifesting ourselves in full by means of our personal piece of land is the true expression of our freedom.

The Yovel Year and Counting the Omer
There are several parallels between counting towards the Yovel Year and counting the Omer. Both Mitzvot are introduced with the directive to count וּסְפַרְתֶּם לָכֶם/u’sefartem lachem – “You shall count” (Vayikra 23:15), וְסָפַרְתָּ לְךָ/u’sefarta lecha –”You shall count” (Vayikra 25:8). In both cases, we count seven sets of seven in connection with Shabbat. We count seven shabbatot in counting the Omer, whereas the count of seven Shabbat years leads us to the Yovel Year. Rav Shimshon Rafael Hirsch notes that by counting the Omer, Am Yisrael highlights a major difference between Judaism and other religions. Upon leaving Egypt, B’nei Yisrael have accomplished physical liberty, and when entering into Eretz Yisrael they have the opportunity to achieve prosperity. The annual celebration of Pesach would therefore seem to be the celebration of having accomplished our ultimate goal. However, for Israel, this only represents our starting point, from which we begin to count towards our true goal of receiving the Torah. It is the ethics and morality of the Torah, which creates the foundation of our nation, independent of material needs.

This counting includes he seven-fold reference to Shabbat, which bears the message of refraining from work, thus freeing us from the materialistic demands that the drive for prosperity places upon us. By constantly referring us back to Shabbat, we are reminded of the basic message of Shabbat, the fact that G-d created the world and that He is intimately involved in its workings. The aspiration to individual greatness implicit in the counting of the Omer parallels the counting of the Yovel on the national level. After fifty years, we reach a level of social perfection, characterized by the release of slaves and the return of land to its original owners. Once again, we see a seven-fold counting of Shabbat, but this time the Shabbat of Shmitta (sabbatical year), when we acknowledge that the land is not ours but G-d’s. We are to disengage ourselves from a more materialistic outlook, and focus on building our moral status. In our time when most of us live in relative prosperity, this message of counting is more relevant than ever. The counting reminds us that physical freedom is not an end goal in itself; it is only the means to receive the spiritual freedom that the Torah and the Yovel Year engenders (Based on, Rav Michael Sussman, & http://harova.org/torah/view.asp?id=982).

The Secret of the Torah and the Land
We count the Omer in order to reach the fifties gate from where the Torah was given. It consist of five books corresponding to the five parts of our soul. There are forty-nine gates of understanding created in the physical world, and all of them were given to Moshe Rabbeinu, as it states, “You have made him a little less than Divine” (Tehillim 8:6). Yet, the fiftieth gate has not been handed over to any human being, since this world is created in seven days, and when you complete the seven by squaring them, they amount to forty-nine, but the fifties gate is not attributed to this world (Maharal, Orh Chadash p. 174).

Just as number eight corresponds to the miraculous level being beyond the seven days of creation, number fifty being beyond seven times seven is associated with the supernatural realm. The secret of the fiftieth is very deep we can only scratch the surface of what the Kabbalist have to say on the topic. The reason for the counting until fifty both of the Omer and towards the Yovel Year is one. The counting of the forty-nine corresponds to the seven lower sefirot, whereas the fiftieth corresponds to Binah (understanding). It is through Binah that we are sent into freedom, and it is from that same Binah that we received the Torah. Therefore, this number is sanctified (Torah Ohr of Maharam Paparish, Parashat Emor). Whenever it mentions counting in the Torah, it centers around arriving at the fifties Gate which correspond to Binah. Therefore, it also states that Israel rose through the fiftieth from Egypt (Shemot 13:18). Likewise, the redemption from Egypt is mentioned fifty times in the Torah. The goal is to arrive at the Yovel Year when each person returns to his estate (Vayikra 25:13). “He will be redeemed, and in Yovel he will emerge” (Ibid 24), (Sha’arei Orah, The Eight Gate, The Third Sefirah). Each step that we count towards freedom brings us closer to our ultimate redemption. True redemption is to return to our essential element – to the root of our creation – the place of the emanation of Torah completely beyond nature. We are created within the seven dimensions of the physical world in order to perfect it and then eventually surpass it. Both receiving the Torah and returning to our inherent plot of land are interconnected sides of one coin in the ultimate goal of redemptive freedom for every Jew.

True freedom is not necessarily the ability to do whatever we feel like as the term is understood in the Western world. True freedom is the ability to return to our essential abode both spiritually and physically, as an individual and as part of the entire unified nation. Our redemptive freedom warrants the ability to express the Divine Torah within the physical framework of the Holy Land. We will ultimately return to this land, divinely designed to encompass the Torah of our soul as a glove fits the hand. When we count the Omer, we are not just counting towards receiving the Torah. Super-consciously, we are counting towards the Final Redemption, when we will all return to complete actualization of the Torah in the Land of our Soul.

The Problem of Pet Sterilization

Nature in the Parasha - Parashat Emor

Printable Version

My son, Meir, recently became a dog owner. Together with my daughter in law and granddaughters, their life has been enriched by the loving dog Chiquita. She mainly lives on their porch, but is allowed in the house whenever they are home. She is a very good-natured and friendly dog and doesn’t bark much, in other words, this is a dog with excellent midot (character traits)! The children learn a lot from taking care of Chiquita. My daughter in law reports that they have become more in touch with their feelings, more cooperative and sharing. By trying to feel how Chiquita feels, they become more aware of how other kids feel. Actually, the whole family is happier since they brought Chiquita home. Daily contact with the dog and responsibility for her care offers my grandchildren a sense of self-worth, as animals are so accepting. One day Chiquita escaped and only returned the next day. Exactly two months after on a Friday when I was eagerly expecting a Shabbat visit of my children and grandchildren, I got a phone call from Meir, “Eh Mazal tov we had puppies.” He hesitatingly began. “We don’t exactly know about coming for Shabbat as we can’t leave the dog alone now with the seven new puppies.” I was a bit in shock, I didn’t even know she was expecting. What was my son and his family going to do with all those puppies? So many mouths to feed and so much work to take care of them all. Knowing how busy they both are, working full time and also studying. What about coming for Shabbat? Would they ever be able to leave all those dogs?

Meanwhile, they managed, the puppies were nursing and the children were delighted, they each adopted two of the puppies, which they eagerly named after their favorite ice-cream, names such as Chocho, Vanilla and Banana. Three month later, they were still the proud owners of eight dogs. “What are you going to do with all these puppies?” I asked my son. “We are trying to find homes for them. Do you know anyone in Bat Ayin who would be interested?” answered my son with a question. “Sorry no, I absolutely know no-one who would want to adopt a mutt puppy. I only know people who are trying to get rid of their extra dogs and cats.” In fact, the Bat Ayin community has its own strays. Some got lost and never returned and they continue to multiply until happily ever after. The holy city of Jerusalem too is bursting with stray cats, and so are many other places I have been. We even have a special name for these strays: ‘Garbage cats.’ Because of the scarcity of food to feed them all, they have this scrawny famished look. So, I told my son, “You may want to look into spading your dog, so you won’t have seven new dogs every year. I know it is a halachic problem, but there must be some way to get around it. I mean, some way to do it in a permissible halachic way, ‘cause I can’t believe Hashem wants this overpopulated unbalanced situation which is the source of much tzar ba’alei chaim (pain caused to animals).” I was happy when a few weeks after this conversation I found the prohibition to castrate people and animals in this week’s parasha. This would be my opportunity to look into what the Torah has to say on the topic. Read on to learn the answers I found.

To Spay or not to Spay
This week’s parasha discusses disqualification of animals for sacrificing. A male cow, sheep or goat that has been sterilized may not be sacrificed as it states,

ספר ויקרא פרק כב וּמָעוּךְ וְכָתוּת וְנָתוּק וְכָרוּת לֹא תַקְרִיבוּ לַהָשֵׁם וּבְאַרְצְכֶם לֹא תַעֲשׂוּ

“You shall not offer to Hashem anything which has its testicles bruised, crushed, torn, or cut; neither shall you do thus in your land (Vayikra 22:24).

Rashi explains that this prohibition is a personal responsibility of the individual and not a duty to be practiced only in the land of Israel such as bikurim (first fruit sacrifice), chalah (bread tithes) etc. The phrase, “Neither shall you do so in your land,” therefore, comes to include any animal that exists in your land whether kosher or non-kosher. Likewise, the Talmud records that when the students asked Ben Zoma, “What about castrating a dog?” He replied in the negative, “Anything in your land you shall not do” (Babylonian Talmud, Chagigah 14b). The sages understood this verse to prohibit sterilization of all male creatures, human and animals alike (Sifra Emor 121). The Torah verse applies to any deliberate impairment of the male reproductive organs in domestic animals, beasts, birds, and man, including the castration of a person who is already impotent or genitally maimed (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 110b). While the biblical commandment for men remains clear, scholars debated its applicability to women. While some maintain that females are also biblically prohibited from removing internal sexual organs, it is halachically accepted to be a lighter rabbinic violation (Even Ha’ezer 5:11). Neutering female animals may only stem from the laws against tza’ar ba’alei chayim (causing suffering to animals), and for women from the general prohibition of causing someone pain (Taz 5:6). Therefore, many halachic authorities permit hysterectomies for therapeutic purposes and to prevent dangerous or unusually painful childbirth (Bach EH 5), However, they remain less preferable options when nonsurgical forms of contraception are equally available (Igrot Moshe EH 4:34). Whether Noachide laws includes the prohibition of sterilization is disputed. Whereas the Talmud records one view according to which the ban on castration is included among the Noachide Laws (Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 56b), many halachic authorities assert that non-Jews are permitted to perform these procedures (Aruch Hashulchan 5:26).

Fruitful and Multiplying
Sefer HaChinuch explains the reason for the prohibition of sterilization from an early environmentalist perspective. Castration may bring about extinctions which could impoverish our rich, diverse, various, complex world, a world with many species, which the Creator called “good” and “very good” (Bereishit 1:25, 31).

משרשי המצוה, לפי שהשם ברוך הוא ברא עולמו בתכלית השלימות, לא חסר ולא יתר בו דבר מכל הראוי להיות בו לשלימותו, והיה מרצונו ובירך בעלי החיים להיותם פרים ורבים, וגם צוה הזכרים ממין האדם על זה, למען יעמודו, שאם לא כן, יהיה המין כלה אחר שהמות מכלה בהם, ועל כן המפסיד כלי הזרע מראה בנפשו כמי שהוא קץ במעשה הבורא ורוצה כהשחתת עולמו הטוב

“The root of the mitzvah is that Hashem may He be blessed, created His world for the purpose of perfection. There is nothing lacking or is extra in it from what is suitable for the perfected world. Through G-d’s benevolent will, He blessed the animals to be fruitful and multiply. He also commanded the human males about this, in order that they endure. If not so, the species would be extinct. Therefore, if someone incapacitates the male sexual organs, he shows himself to be as one who cannot tolerate the work of the Creator and desires the destruction of His good world” (Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 291).

The mitzvah to be fruitful and multiply has such a central place in the Torah. It is ingrained in the very fabric or creation when all species was blessed with fruitful procreation. The mitzvah to be fruitful and multiply is also the very first mitzvah given to humanity (Bereishit 1:28). Unfortunately, we have destroyed the eco balance of the earth, and somehow this has caused an overpopulation of certain species. Therefore, spaying dogs and cats will no longer threaten these species from being extinct. On the contrary, it would avoid contributing to the population of unwanted dogs and cats. Certainly, no one wishes to see packs of starving feral dogs roaming our cities, or desperate bony cats massacring our remaining songbirds. So what can we do about this problem in a halachic permissible way?

Finding a Permissive Halachic Way to Neuter Your Pet
In recent years, both public health officials and animal rights groups have advocated that pet owners neuter their pets. They note that excessive reproduction and overpopulation can endanger the animal, the species and the public. Experts advise us to neuter our cats and dogs. We should do so, they say, as responsible pet owners.

1. While halacha prohibits us from neutering our pet, it does not prohibit us from owning a pet that is already neutered. Therefore, one solution is to acquire and already neutered pet.

2. There is no halachic prohibition against using hormonal treatments or contraceptives, when available, to limit fertility.

3. Most halachic authorities hold that a Jew may not take his pet to a non-Jewish vet to get it fixed, since it’s not permitted for a Jew to tell a non-Jew to perform a Torah prohibition. A Jew may not ask a non-Jew to sterilize for himself (amira le’akum), even in a subtle or indirect manner (EH 5:14). However, it may be permissible to sell our animal to gentiles, who in return would get a second non-Jew to neuter the animal. Then, if both parts agree, it would be allowed to buy back the animal. This law was originally instituted by 19th century scholars to prevent severe financial loss from business owners who used animals for commercial purposes, (Ha’elef Lecha Shlomo EH 23). Although many contemporary halachic authorities believe it inappropriate to utilize this procedure with household pets for purposes of convenience (e.g. to eliminate unwanted litters or to prevent the animal from trying to leave the house), (Shu”t Bemareh Bazak 6:77), it is quite possible that one may do so if it is necessary to alleviate an animal's suffering due to sickness. Aruch Hashulchan would very likely agree with this conclusion since he rules that non-Jews are permitted to remove reproductive organs. Whereas we may not violate a biblical prohibition to alleviate an animal's suffering, it is possible that we may violate the rabbinic prohibition to ask a non-Jew to do what a Jew may not do in order to alleviate suffering.

4. An alternative solution has been offered by Rabbi I. Y. Unterman (Otzar Haposkim I, pp. 164-165). He describes a procedure of neutering which he believes constitutes only a rabbinic prohibition since it does not involve direct removal of reproductive organs. Instead, the blood supply to the testicles is eliminated and the animal is rendered sterile. Rabbi Unterman asserts that one who performs this procedure violates the prohibition indirectly (grama) which is permitted on a Torah level and forbidden by the rabbis. The authorities who rule that non-Jews are forbidden to neuter animals concede that non-Jews are forbidden only to perform biblically forbidden acts of neutering. Non-Jews are not required to follow rabbinic legislation.

5. There is greater room for leniency when a female pet is involved since many authorities believe neutering a female to be a rabbinic prohibition, and a minority opinion (Taz, Even Haezer 5:6) believes that one is permitted to neuter a female animal if the procedure is performed for the creature's benefit. As with most mitzvot, sterilization becomes permissible when done for urgent therapeutic needs. Given the lighter strictures regarding female species and claims of significant health benefits, Rabbi Shlomo Aviner allows a Jewish veterinarian to spay female pets (She’elat Shlomo v.6), while Rabbi Shmuel Wosner (Shevet Halevi 6:204) more hesitantly permits a non-Jew to perform the procedure.

6. Recently, Sephardic Chief Rabbi Shlomo Amar has alternatively contended that because of public safety concerns from wild and ownerless animals, one may ask a non-Jewish veterinarian to neuter pets of both genders.

Wow, I didn’t know this topic was so complicated. Seems to me that to be on the sure halachic side it doesn’t hurt to ask our personal Rabbi before getting involved in neutering our animal in any way.

Ingrained Giving

Nature in the Parasha: Parashat Acharei Mot/Kedoshim

Printable Version

During the week when the Land of Israel was returned back into Jewish hands after nearly 2000 years of exile we read Parashat Acharei Mot/Kedoshim. I just noted that the meaning of these Parshiot is, After death/Holiness. May I venture to interpret this as, “After the deathening exile there is holiness through the Jewish people once again returning to their Holy Land.” Parashat Kedoshim opens with the directive to be holy: “You shall be holy; for I Hashem your G-d am holy” (Vayikra 19:2). So what is kedusha – holiness? A word that sounds weird in other languages. Our Torah verse gives us the clue, holiness is about emulating Hashem. An important part of being holy and living a holy life is to be giving in all our endeavors, for Hashem is all about giving. Holiness is not only in the synagogue and in the House of Study; holiness is in the work-field and in the corners of our orchard. We naturally want to give and enjoy the feeling of being a beneficiary. While, we all have various areas where we enjoy giving, the Torah teaches us a different attitude towards the very concept of ownership and giving. While it is gratifying to select personal gifts for loved ones, at times it can be challenging to give, especially when we have worked very hard for it. Having really earned something by the hard work of our hands, may give rise to a feeling of exclusive ownership. At harvest time, when we look forward to bringing the fruit of our own labor home. Precisely at the moment when we are about to proudly pronounce, “This is my own,” that is the time to bear in mind and signify in deed how we are obligated to care for others as well (Rav S.R Hirsch, Vayikra 19:10).

ספר ויקרא פרק יט

ט) וּבְקֻצְרְכֶם אֶת קְצִיר אַרְצְכֶם לֹא תְכַלֶּה פְּאַת שָׂדְךָ לִקְצֹר וְלֶקֶט קְצִירְךָ לֹא תְלַקֵּט

י) וְכַרְמְךָ לֹא תְעוֹלֵל וּפֶרֶט כַּרְמְךָ לֹא תְלַקֵּט לֶעָנִי וְלַגֵּר תַּעֲזֹב אֹתָם אֲנִי הָשֵׁם אֱלֹהֵיכֶם

“When you harvest the harvest of your land, you shall not completely harvest the corner of your field; neither shall you collect all the gleanings of your harvest. Do not collect single or underdeveloped grapes from your vineyard; neither shall you glean all the fallen grapes. Leave them for the poor person and the convert. I am Hashem your G-d” (Vayikra 19:9-10).

The Torah designed these special agricultural mitzvot not only to assure that the poor and less fortunate are cared for at the time of harvest. These mitzvot are also to help the landowner harness his ego and open his heart to the less fortunate. The manner in which we may harvest our field of grain or vineyard is restricted to assure that we leave behind some portion of the crop for the poor. Verse 9 delineates specific mitzvot that apply to a field of grain, while verse 10 describes the commandments that apply to a vineyard. These mitzvot instill within us a general attitude of giving not just to loved ones but even within the furthest corners of our lives.

Forget it for the Poor
The first mitzvah of the field mentioned in Parashat Kedoshim is known as peah, referring to the corner of the field that must be left uncut for the poor to reap. This mitzvah applies equally to all fields, orchards and vineyards (see Devarim 24:20). In addition, we have the mitzvah of leket, often translated as gleanings. It refers to the mitzvah of leaving for the poor the fallings of the hands of the harvester while harvesting the field. This only applies if less than three stalks fall in one place during the harvest. If, however, three stalks fall at once, the owner it permitted to collect them. Ruth was aware of this law and was careful to glean only one or two fallen stalks (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 113b). There is a similar mitzvah regarding the vineyard, known as peret. The vineyard also has an additional mitzvah, not to “pick clean” the vines by collecting the ollelot, the underdeveloped clusters of grapes. Parashat Ki Tetzei introduces another mitzvah known as shichecha. If a sheaf is forgotten during the harvest, it is to be left for the poor. The owner of the field may not return to collect it. This mitzvah applies to trees as well; when one forgets to pick one or two trees, they must be left for the poor. In the summary, the agricultural gifts are as follows:

The Four Gifts of the Vineyard: 1. פֶרֶט/peret – the fallen grapes 2. עוֹלְלִים/ollelim – the undeveloped clusters 3. שִׁכְחָה/shichecha – the forgotten clusters 4. פְּאַה/peah – the corner of the vineyard.
The Three Gifts of the Field: 1.לֶקֶט /leket – the gleanings 2. שִׁכְחָה/shichecha – the forgotten sheaf bundle 3. פְּאַה/peah – the corner of the field.
The Two Gifts in the Orchard: 1. שִׁכְחָה/shichecha – the forgotten fruits 2. פְּאַה/peah – the corner of the orchard (Babylonian Talmud Chullin 131a). Together all the mitzvot transform our field into a center for agricultural tzedakah (charity), allowing us to provide for the poor in a dignified manner.

The Mitzvot of the Field and the Nature of Property Ownership
These agricultural mitzvot ingrain within us that our field and vineyard do not yield their produce for us alone, (this is the message of peah and ollelot). With the labor of our own hands we do not work only for ourselves (this is the message of leket and peret) (Rabbi S. R. Hirsch, ibid). We shouldn’t think that we are giving to the poor from our own property, or that Hashem has despised him by not giving him the abundance that He has given us. The mitzvot of the field teach us that the poor is also Hashem’s child, just as we are, but his portion is in our produce. It is for our merit that Hashem intended to give his/her portion from our hand. This is the reason why the beginning of the verse “When you reap” is plural, but the end “you shall not reap all the way” is singular. At the beginning, it uses the plural “the harvest of your [plural] land,” belonging to the owner, the poor, and the stranger, for in truth, their portion is included in the owners field (Rav Moshe Alschich, Torat Moshe, Vayikra 19:9-10). The change in terminology in our Torah verse from plural to singular can also imply that the verse is focusing on the individual responsibility of providing for the poor, even when society as a whole is involved in the harvesting (Rabbeinu Bachaya). Moreover, the Torah may have wanted to dispel the faulty notion that when the amount of gleanings does not add up to anywhere near enough to provide something meaningful for the poor, the law does not apply. The Torah, therefore, addresses each farmer individually, telling us that even if our individual contribution is minimal, we must still keep the laws of the land (Ohr Hachayim). The fact that the agricultural gifts apply even when we don’t have enough produce to satisfy the needs of the poor teaches us that the purpose of the agricultural gifts is also to limit the landowners sense of ownership and strengthen his character trait of generosity.

Applying the Gardening Gifts Today
How does these mitzvot apply to us today? With a small plot of a few dozen fruit trees in the land of Israel, I’m eager to practice character development through the mitzvah of the gifts of my garden. Do these mitzvot even apply today? If so, how do I go about it? Luckily, my husband showed me our book מצוות הארץ כהלכתן/The Mitzvot of the Land According to their Laws by Rav Yitzchak Goldberg. This book includes a section about the agricultural gifts in our time. Originally, these gifts are mitzvot from the Torah as we learn from this week’s parasha. However, these mitzvot of the field, which have the same status as terumot and ma’aserot (tithes), only apply from the Torah when the majority of the Israelites have returned to their land. Until then they apply according to rabbinical status (Rambam, Hilchot Terumot 1:26). The Rabbis ruled that we must keep these mitzvot also today to ingrain within the corners of our being the limitation of ownership and ego through the mitzvot of allowing the poor to take what is rightfully theirs. This explains also why there is an opinion that the mitzvot of the agricultural gifts apply even outside of Israel according to the Rabbis (Rambam, Hilchot Matanot Ani’im 1:14). These mitzvot mandate that we can’t even get the feeling of control through the apparent benefit of deciding which needy individuals will receive our gifts. The mitzvot teach us to let go of ownership and allow the poor their entitlement. For this reason, the Torah does not use a terminology of giving bur rather: “You shall leave them” in Vayikra, “It shall be” in Devarim. However, the obligation to leave the agricultural gifts for the poor only apply even according to Rabbinical ruling as long as there are poor people who come and pick up these gifts. If no-one picks the fruits left for the poor, then anyone can pick them including the landowner, since we are not obligated to leave the produce for animals and birds (Babylonian Talmud, Chulin 134b). There is an opinion that even if no poor people come to pick we still must leave the peah in order not to transgress the commandment “You shall not completely harvest the corner of your field” (Vayikra 19:9). According to the Torah, peah has no set amount; however, the Rabbis ruled that it must be at least on sixtieth (Mishnah Peah 1:2). So, if for example my pear-tree has sixty fruits I need to leave one unpicked and declare it peah. After a few days, if no poor people come to pick, I can pick the last pear myself before the birds gets it. The best way of fulfilling these mitzvot today, would be to tell some poor students and all the beggars that come to our door weekly, that they can help themselves for peah and ollelot in our garden. For most, the few fruits they could gather may not be worth their effort, but that will be their decision. At least I can do my part the best I can.

Reapers of the Holy Apple Field
The field exists also in the spiritual realm. It corresponds to the sefirah of malchut, which is called a field. There exists different kinds of spiritual fields. The field of Esav is filled with arrows and murderers. In contrast, the field that is called “the field of holy apples” corresponds to the lower Garden of Eden. The mitzvot that we perform becomes seedlings in that field. From all our actions and speech that we perform in the lower world, we produce fruits in the Garden of Eden. The inner meaning of, “When you harvest the harvest of your earth” is to cut down the yetzer hara (negative impulse) which destroys us through our earthliness. How can we destroy our yetzer hara? Through Torah and tefilah and good deeds by which we can become holy. It is possible to reach the upper Garden of Eden through planting a spiritual vineyard by means of Torah learning for the sake of Hashem. In our learning we must take precautions to stay away from fallen wisdoms, which correspond to the peret and ollelot. Our goal when serving Hashem should not be in order to receive a reward, even not in order to receive spiritual reward in the world to come. Rather, our worship needs to be for the sake of giving pleasure to Hashem, and influence blessing, life and healing to the world. “Do not glean the gleanings of your harvest,” which is dew of holiness, for yourself, in order that the Creator shall bring down blessings upon you. Only do it for the sake of the “poor” the lower worlds that look forward to our mitzvot that cause the Creator to bring down influences to them. There are inner hidden meanings in the mitzvot of the field. Leaving agricultural gifts for the poor connect us with the living G-d. We learn this from the fact that the numerical value of the word פְּאַה/peah is 86 the same gematria as אֱלֹהִים/elokim – G-d. (Based on Pardes Yosef and Toldot Aharon, Vayikra 19:10).

Plants of Purification

Nature in the Parasha - Parashat Tazria/Metzora

Printable Version

Let My Tongue Remain Chametz Free!
“So what are you taking with you from Pesach?” asked my sister. I hesitated, it was not so much what I was taking with me, but more what I was not taking with me, things that I hope to have left behind with the puffed up chametz (leaven). Everything had been cleaned and excess shed, and I wish it to stay that way. How amazing to manage without all the extras such as supplements, vitamins, perfume and excess words, how humbling. While Facebook was lined with photos of pizza eaten only three hours after Pesach, we were in no chametz rush. The simplicity of matzo and quinoa was enough for now. Yes, let the taste of purifying Pesach linger. Let it linger into our lingo influencing body and soul. Pesach means, “The mouth speaks.” The entire month of Nissan is about rectification of speech (Sefer Yetzirah, Chapter 5). It is no wonder that the last parasha of the month of Nissan is about purity of speech. So, that is what I want to take with me from Pesach, no extras, no more unnecessary words. If we let out a phrase or even a word we shouldn’t have said, then what happens? It’s not like we sprout a long nose like when Pinocchio lies. However, in Biblical times evil speech caused immediate retribution through the skin breaking out in a spiritual disease called tzara’at. The remedy for this impure disease was a purification ritual consisting of plants and birds:

ספר ויקרא פרק יד: ב-ד

זֹאת תִּהְיֶה תּוֹרַת הַמְּצֹרָע בְּיוֹם טָהֳרָתוֹ וְהוּבָא אֶל הַכֹּהֵן: וְיָצָא הַכֹּהֵן אֶל מִחוּץ לַמַּחֲנֶה וְרָאָה הַכֹּהֵן וְהִנֵּה נִרְפָּא נֶגַע הַצָּרַעַת מִן הַצָּרוּעַ: וְצִוָּה הַכֹּהֵן וְלָקַח לַמִּטַּהֵר שְׁתֵּי צִפֳּרִים חַיּוֹת טְהֹרוֹת וְעֵץ אֶרֶז וּשְׁנִי תוֹלַעַת וְאֵזֹב

“This shall be the law of the metzora (person afflicted with tzara’at) in the day of his purification: he shall be brought to the kohen. The kohen shall go outside the camp; if the kohen sees that the metzora has been healed from his scaly plague; then the kohen shall order two live pure birds, cedar wood, scarlet worm, and hyssop” (Vayikra 14:2-4).

What is the connection between these plants and birds and the purification of the metzora?

A Worm for the Gossiper
We all know that the spiritual disease of tzara’at is caused by evil speech, which consist of three categories: Lashon Hara (true derogatory speech), Rechilut (gossip), Motzi Shem Ra (false derogatory speech). Lashon hara is the expression of looking for the weaknesses and negative in others, like the fly, which is attracted to open sores and infections. The need to overcome the negative impulse to put others down is symbolized by slaughtering one of the birds. The second bird corresponds to Motzi Shem Ra, as evil spirits will eat the souls of those engaging in false derogatory speech. Therefore, this live bird is sent out to the open field to these spirits that fly in the field (Torat Kohanim 2:5). The scarlet producing worm corresponds to the gossiper, as his sins are like red stains, which are transformed to white through repentance (Yesha’yahu 1:18). When we speak negatively about others we think we are better than them but in truth it is the opposite, we are lowly like the hyssop and those we speak against become high like the cedar tree (Sefer Toldot Yitzchak, Vayikra 14:4).

Purification of Body, Mind and Soul
All the rituals of the service in the Tabernacle and Temple have deeper than symbolic significance, even if we don’t always understand them. For example, it states: “The kohen shall take of the blood of the guilt-offering, and the kohen shall put it upon the tip of the right ear of the person being purified, and upon the thumb of his right hand, and upon the great toe of his right foot” (Vayikra 14:14). What is all this sprinkling of blood all about? Toldot Yitzchak continues to explain that the evil speaker sins through all of these body parts. Kicking with the foot, and finger pointing is all part of lashon hara, so is listening with the ear. Therefore, each of these places deserves blood. Yet, in the end, we are forgiven and this is symbolized by the oil poured on those same places (Ibid. 17). The three body parts where blood and oil was sprinkled include the upper body (ear), the middle body (hand), and the lower body (foot). These three places may possible allude to the mind, heart and body, which all need to be purified. The Shem M’Shemuel explains that the cedar tree, the scarlet producing worm and the hyssop allude to the גוּף/guf –body, נֶפֶש/nefesh – soul and שֶׁכֶל/sechel – intellect. Since the cedar is the tallest of trees, it corresponds to the intellect, the worm, which is red like blood corresponds to the nefesh, while the lowly hyssop corresponds to the body. All of these three parts need to be purified, as they include the elevation of man, the desire and will of the soul, and the subjugation of the body. During the Exodus from Egypt the hyssop was all they needed, because in Egypt the Children of Israel weren’t arrogant at all; on the contrary they were very submissive (Midrash Shemot Rabbah 2:5). Therefore, only their body needed purification so that it would be subjugated to Hashem alone and not be submissive merely due to the suffering of exile. Why did King David pray, “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean…” (Tehillim 51:9)? The reason he mentioned only the hyssop is that he had already purified his mind and soul and was only concerned about purifying his body from despair. Therefore, all he needed was the hyssop (Shem M’Shemuel, Parashat Metzorah, Year 5673).

Arrogance – the Plague Causing Character Trait
Arrogance is the underlying negative character trait expressed through evil speech. When we attribute greatness to ourselves as if we are a tall cedar tree, we need to humble ourselves to become like the lowly hyssop, in order to receive atonement (Midrash Tanchuma, Parashat Metzorah 3). We know that the cedar is the tallest and the hyssop the lowliest of plants from the wisdom of King Shlomo (I Melachim 5:13).

Why does the leper receive purification through both the very tallest and the very lowest? Although the tall cedar tree alludes to arrogance, it is still part of the healing process. This is because when we repent it is our previous arrogance, which helps us to lower ourselves to become even more humble. We also sometimes need atonement from being overly humble, when we think we are not good enough to do a certain mitzvah. It is important to find the right balance between feeling “I’m a worm and not a man” (Tehillim 22:7), and “The entire world is created for me (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 30b), (Pardes Yosef, Vayikra 14:4). In the purification ritual from the impurity of death the two plants, cedar and hyssop are juxtaposed, while the worm and birds are mentioned afterwards. This is the natural order moving from flora to fauna. Why then is the worm interspersed between the two plants in the purification ritual from tzara’at? One answer is that the speaker of lashon hara is lowly like a worm, but hits on people who are compared to the lofty cedar tree. The atonement for an evil tongue that committed a wormy deed against the prominent cedar, is to lower himself as a hyssop without desiring to blemish others. Therefore, the worm, which corresponds to the person committing the evil speech, is interspersed between the cedar corresponding to his victim and the hyssop corresponding to his rectification (Kli Yakar, Vayikra 14:4).

Tapping into the Devotion of Yitzchak & the Humility Ya’acov
While idol worship and murder characterizes Esau, conversely in the side of holiness מְסִירַת נֶפֶש/mesirat nefesh – devotion to Hashem is the aspect of Yitzchak and עֲנָוָה/anava –humility the aspect of Ya’acov. Therefore, אֶרֶז/erez – cedar has the same numerical value as יִצְחָק/Yitzchak (208), while the worm alludes to Ya’acov, who is called “the worm of Ya’acov” (Yesha’ayhu 41:14). Tapping into the humility of Ya’acov allows others to live and exist without being picked on or backstabbed. Furthermore, the phrase עֵץ אֶרֶז וְאֵזוֹב/ Etz Erez v’Ezov (cedar tree and hyssop) has the same numerical value as Yitzchak, Ya’acov (390) = (160+208+22) = (208+182) (Panim Yafot, Vayikra 14:4). Evil speech is compared to idolatry, (Midrash Yalkut Shimoni, Vayikra 14:558), which is an attempt to view reality as we wish, circumventing whatever gets in our way. When someone is seeking to benefit himself, he doesn’t care if his view of reality is unsubstantiated by what is real and evident. If he thinks it will be in his advantage he may turn to idol worship. Likewise, when a person speaks lashon hara, he lives in a delusional reality. If a certain person makes him feel inferior, he may need to ‘correct’ this by putting that person down. Evil speech is also compared to murder (Rambam, Hilchot Deot 7:1), as words can kill. The Midrash brings the famous example of Doeg the Edomite who told King Shaul that the Achimelech the Kohen had offered David protection. Consequently, Shaul had 85 kohanim killed (Midrash Tanchuma, Metzora 1). See also Kitzur Shulchan Aruch 30:1). The cedar tree can also allude to Hashem. Just as the cedar is taller than all other trees, so is Hashem taller than all. The hyssop alludes to the tzaddik (righteous person) who emanates from Hashem like a small tree that stem forth from a big tree. The scarlet string teaches us to connect ourselves to the tzaddikim by means of this we may be able to connect ourselves to the Creator (Avodat Yisrael, Parashat Para).

Plants of Repentance
We need to apply the character trait of גְּבוּרָה/gevurah (might and self-discipline) in order to overcome our negative impulse for evil speech. This is a very heavy and difficult inner war that we must wage. The tall and stout cedar tree teaches us to be hard and strong as this tree to fight against our negative impulse and overcome it. This is another reason why אֶרֶז/erez – cedar shares the numerical value of יִצְחָק/Yitzchak, as Yitzchak is known to correspond to gevurah. In our repentance process, we simultaneously need the humility of both the worm and the hyssop. Just as humility cleans us from our puffed up ego, hyssop is a cleansing herb both in the Torah and according to folk medicine. In the Torah, hyssop is used for spiritual cleansing, from the impurity of Egypt, arrogance and death, whereas in folk medicine it cleanses and eliminates viruses and infections. All sicknesses comprise a decrease of life force and hence a small death. The more humble we become, the more alive, since there is no true life but Hashem. While arrogance causes us to be far from Him, humility creates space for Hashem to enter our lives. The humility of the hyssop empowers us to purify from various forms of death and enables us to pierce through the darkness of death and impurity to connect with the eternal light of life. “Who is the man that desires life, and loves many days that he may see good? Guard your tongue from evil, and your lips from deceitful speech (Tehillim 34:13-14). May we overcome the tendency for evil speech by tapping into the energies of these plants of repentance!