Category: Hashkafa

  • Pi & Its Torah Source

    Pi & Its Torah Source

    For a more details/sources, please see my source sheet:

    https://www.sefaria.org/sheets/60352?lang=bi

    &

    Search: ‘Game Theory’ on this site for a related post

    “V’es dasei hamelech einum osim” –the laws of the king they do not observe.

    (Esther 3:8)

    The above quoted verse was among the complaints Haman lodged against bnei yisroel so as to get Achashveirosh to agree to their annihilation.

    Chazal (Megillah 13b) elaborate on and reveal the true meaning of this particular complaint. “All year the Jews succeed in getting out of work, claiming, ‘Today is Shabbos’, ‘Today is Shavous’, ‘Today is ‘Pesach’, etc.”

    Haman was, in effect, introducing the world to an old anti-Semitic standard of ‘too many Jewish holidays’, Rachmana l’tzlan.

    Ironically, today, our calendar simply can’t compete with the amount of national holidays that exist in the secular one!

    There is National Donut Day (June 5th), International Beer Day (first Friday in August), Love Your Lawyer Day (first Friday in November), the list goes on and on. Based on a loose count, I have learnt of over sixty such days!

    Some of these holidays are often referred to cynically as ‘Hallmark Holidays’. The suggestion being that the Hallmark greeting card company invented these holidays only to benefit their bottom line.

    In fact, several years ago, in an effort to quell these rumors, Hallmark themselves issued the following press-release:

    “…While we’re honored that people so closely link the Hallmark name with celebrations and special occasions, we can’t take credit for creating holidays. Congressional resolutions, proclamations, religious observances, cultural traditions, and grassroots leadership by ordinary people create these special days. It’s really the public who give occasions like Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day widespread acceptance as celebration events.

    “…So if you think that special date on the calendar is a “just a Hallmark holiday,” think again. There are fascinating histories behind every holiday for which Hallmark makes cards…”

    Fascinating indeed.

    While some of these ‘holidays’ have unknown provenance, some of them have celebrated histories.

     For instance, Haaretz published the following headline a few years back:

    “How a Jewish Mom Created a Global Ice Cream Holiday”

    The article goes on to tell the story of mid 1960’s Rochester, New York housewife who decided one cold February morning to serve her six children ice cream for breakfast. The custom spread, and now several countries celebrate this ‘holiday’ on the first Friday in February.

    However, if there is one international secular holiday whose date and reason instantly understandable it is the one from last week, March 14.

    This is known as ‘National Pi Day’. No, not ‘Pie’ Day (that is on January 23rd. Really!), rather Pi, the irrational ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter. This famous endless number begins, and is known as, 3.14, so March 14 (3/14) is the obvious choice.

    While I am not sure how one is to observe this day –some mathematicians bake pies with the π sign! – this year a special opportunity arose.

    On Shushan Purim the news of a fast-approaching storm was alarming, excepted to dump close to twenty inches on New York City.

    Although while living in Buffalo this storm would simply be known as ‘Tuesday’, here in New York in anticipation of the storm Mayor De Blasio canceled all schools. Many chedarim closed as well.

    Many parents would also be staying home from work, either to watch their kids or because their offices were closed as well.

    A high school rebbe of mine once said that one can tell a true ben torah by how one acts on the second night of yom tov, when after arriving home we have to wait for the food to warm up. This is a time where one only has two options: waste time or learn.

    I would apply the same to a ‘snow day’.

    So, I decided that in honor of ‘Pi Day’ I would give a shiur in my shul before Mincha on the very subject of ‘Pi Day’ in Halacha. This would also hopefully give incentive for people to get to minyan on a day when parking was very difficult.

    I was also betting on the title of this shiur awakening some curiosity. ‘What does Pi have to do with halacha?’

    As it turns out, a lot.

    Wilbur Knor, a professor of math history at Stanford University, asserts that Rambam was the first to lay claim that Pi is an irrational number (infinite, and can not be expressed in common integers).

    While many cultures throughout history, and long before Rambam, had various and close approximations, this that Pi was irrational was only proven in the 18th century.

    The Rambam to which Proffesor Knor was referring was coming to explain a ruling in the Mishna (Eruvin 1:5 or 13b). The Mishnahthere teaches us about the dimensions needed for a koreh – a beam utilized for the fourth side of certain types of eruvin, and no longer practiced today (Rema). The Mishnah teaches that if the circumference of of koreh is three tefachim (handbreadths) than we know that its diameter is one tefach. In other words, they are teaching that the circumference of a circle to its diameter is simply 3:1.

    The Rambam, in Peirush Mishnayos to this Mishnah is obviously bothered by this approximation (3:1) when the number is in fact irrational. “You must know that the ratio between a diameter of a circle and its circumference is not known. It is something whose measure is impossible to know precisely, this not due not to our lack of understanding rather to the ratio itself…”. His verboseness is likely due to not having a word for ‘irrational’.

    As fascinating as this statement is, consider the Gemara itself.

    Commenting on the ratio in the Mishnah (3:1), the Gemara asks how the Mishnahknew this; meaning what is its biblical source.

    The Tosfos HaRosh (d. 1327) wonders why something based on math would need a scriptural source; can’t Chazal create a mathematical equation on their own?  He suggests that the Mishnah knew that 3:1 was not the exact value of Pi and yet rules that we may use an approximation for Halacha. This is what bothered the Gemara: from where does our Mishnah know that Hashem accepts our using an approximated Pi for Halacha?

    Fascinating, as it would seem that both Rambam and Rosh accept that Chazal knew if not the true value of Pi than at least that it is irrational.

    Even in our day, when we have proven Pi to be irrational, the Halachos affected by utilizing a mere approximation is unchanged. The Aruch Hashulchan makes this clear (siman 363) and mirrors the words of the Rosh, that this is precisely why Chazal wished to marshal pesukim, as they were aware that the number for Pi was far more complex.

    On the hand, the Tashbeitz (chelek 1 #165) suggests the possibility that while Chazal were indeed only giving us the approximate for Pi, they did so not for halachic reasons, rather only to make Torah study simple for all. However, when calculating these measurements for Halacha l’maaseh one would have to embrace exactitude.

    Let us end here with a final amazing idea. We mentioned that Chazal brought a pesuk to prove this ratio. Which pesuk would discuss this issue?

    In Melachim 1:7:23 it describes the (round) yam shel shlomo hamelech, as ten amos in diameter and 30 amos in circumference. So there you have a navi utilizing the same approximation for Pi found in the quoted Mishnah.

    But is it really only the approximation?

    Many kiruv agencies have utilized the idea that follows. While many say this in the name of the Vilna Gaon it has have yet to be discovered in his name.

    In the measurement of this bath’s circumference the pasuk utilized the term ‘kav’ or line. However, the word is oddly spelled with a hei at the end, but it is not recited this way. This is called a ‘kri’ and a ‘kesiv’- a word spelled one way in the Tanach and pronounced another way. When taking the gematriya of the word “kav” (106) and ‘kaveh’ (111), their ratio (111/106) is 1.0471698. This can be used to represent the ratio of the value for Pi to 3 (3.1415094/3 = 1.0471698).

    However, we should point out that this only works by ignoring conjunctive vav, which if included would them make the figures 117/112, changing the math.

    Others suggest that the kri/ksiv of this word is to hint to yet another hidden message. The ratio of the gematriyos of “v’chamesh” in this pasuk (the height of this circle in amos) and “v’kav” is 3.1415929…, within one part in a million of the exact value of Pi, and seemingly the closest any gematria would allow for.

    However, we should point out that this last hint only works if one adds ‘one’ to each of the respective words. This is called ‘im hakollel’ and is something that is well cosseted in toras hagematria (see e.g. Baal HaTurim)

    Either way, to discover this in the one pasuk in all of Tanach (repeated in Divrei Hayamim) describing diameters and circumferences, is pretty remarkable!

    Hafoch Buh Sh’Kula Buh!

  • The Chazon Ish on Rabbanus

    Hidden in one of my file cabinets, underneath a pile of hand-out mareh makomos to a shiur given more than a decade ago, rests a sheet of paper. Worn and yellowed, it awaits me. In times of distress and chalishas hadaas, it is there to offer me a little comfort.

    Of all the pieces of advice I have received over the years, only once did I seek it out in its original sourced written form and file it away, so as to re-read it from time to time.

    It was my brother, Rav Shmuel Taub, who shared with me this piece of guidance, which came from the holy Chazon Ish, and which is recorded in the multi-volume biography of his life, the monumental ‘Maaseh Ish’, 4:95. Depending on one’s vantage point, these are either words of comfort or a charge of responsibility.

    A yungerman with semicha came to Bnei Brak to seek counsel from the Chazon Ish. This fellow was offered a position in rabbanus in a town outside of Haifa.

    While on paper this offer appeared to be a wonderful opportunity, the young rav was not so convinced. He explained to the Chazon Ish the reason for his reticence. “I am not a baki in halacha, nor have I dedicated my time delving into the words of the poskim”

    This is a common fear, and hopefully one that does not dissipate with time.

    What makes the Chazon Ish’s forthcoming response so extraordinary is not so much what he says, rather who stated it –a masmid par-excellence who put Torah and the daled amos shel halacha above any and all other pursuits.

    Dispelling this man’s fears, the Chazon Ish answered, “True, it used to be that the main purpose and role of a rav was to answer and pasken shailos, however today the tafkid (purpose) of a rav is the be mikarev and draw his fellow Jews under the kanfei hashechina”

    The main role!

    To add an exclamation point to his bold statement, the Chazon Ish concluded with a beracha to this rav in his new position, “May Hashem bring you hatzlacha in being mikareiv people to Torah”

    Of course, the Chazon Ish was talking to a ben torah –one who likely knew a lot more halacha than he let on -and indeed, a few moments later, assuaged his fears in paskening as well.

    Several years later I saw another story brought in this same sefer that colored the first one.

    Someone came to the Chazon Ish asking if a certain rav in a certain town was reliable.

    “In relation to what?” asked the Chazon Ish

    “Well, his eiruv and his kashrus” the shoel responded.

    The Chazon Ish, who was apparently unfamiliar with this rav in question, wondered aloud, “Why do you not call the rav and speak to him and see if he is holding in learning?”

    The man responded that indeed he had done just that. However, when he asked this rav if he could be rely upon him, the rav responded, “While everything I do is kdas u’kdin, I would prefer if you would not be someich on me. It enough of an achroyos that my own membership trusts in me, I don’t need to add to my pekel acher meah v’esrim your cheshbon as well.

    The Chazon Ish was delighted with this response. “A rav that answers this way, who prefers not having any achroyos beyond what he must, is a rav that one may be someich on!

    To me, this second story always colored the first story. It was due to the very fact that the young rav in the initial incident was so concerned about his abilities in psak halacha that gave the Chazon Ish confidence in him to go out and shine in other areas as well.

    The story is told that when Rav Yitzchak Blazer was once approached about accepting a certain rabbinical position he responded in horror.

    “Chazal teach in the name of Rav Shmuel bar Nachmeini (Sanhedrin 7a) that when someone rules in halachik matters they should view it as if a sword is drawn toward them with the gates of gehennim below! Mah Li L’tzarah Hazos! Why should enter into such achroyos?”

    That was all the balla battim needed to hear. “Rav Itzelleh! That is precisely why we want you as our rav! What, should we hire someone who is less afraid?!”

    When looking at the first perek of Pirkei Avos one discovers a peculiar pattern.

    The 8th,,9th and 11th mishnayos are directed to rabbanim and poskim. For example, Mishneh 8: “…When litigants stand before you they should appear as if wicked, and when they leave, as if they are righteous…” Mishneh 10: “…Thoroughly examine witnesses…”. Mishneh 11: “Chachamim! Be carefull with your words…”

    Inexplicably, stuck in the middle of these teachings is Mishneh 10. Ostensibly speaking to all people, it states: “Shemayah says, “Love work, hate positions of power (‘rabbanus’) and do not become overly familiar with the government”.

    Many wonder why, in the midst of offering directives to rabbanim would the Mishneh suddenly, and momentarily, switch gears. And, if indeed this is speaking to leaders as well, why would it tell them to hate their jobs?!

    I once saw a beautiful idea brought in chasiddeshe sefarim to explain this order. In truth, even Mishneh 10 is speaking to rabbanim and leaders. However, now that chazal have the attention of these members of klei kodesh it wishes to express the following idea: When one is a rav or an av beis din he must be very careful which part of the job gets him out of the bed each morning, which part of his duties gives him direction.

    The Mishneh is then read as follows: Rabbanim, and those serving am yisroel, when it comes to your jobs love the work involved (‘ohev es hamelacha’ –the answering shailos, the learning of Torah, giving shiurim –but do not become enamored with the power and kavod itself (‘u’sneh ess harabbanus’). And, should one fall victim to that temptation, beware lest the heavens notice him and judge him harshly (‘v’al tisvadah l’reshus’)!

    As we are soon to return to our summer series of the History of Early American Rabbanim, it is important to keep all of this in mind. These were men who gave up so much of their own kavod to fight important battles. Not only was their goal not for kavod or acclaim, they gave those up to wage a holy milchama lmaan hatorah. More importantly, in many cases, they were willing to give up renown as poskim and lamdanim with the understanding that their main job at that juncture was kiruv and teaching the New World the mesorah and the truest values of the Torah.

  • Adar & Secrets of Birchas/Kiddush Hachodesh

    March, 2016

    The siddur is a mysterious work. In it one finds tefillos and pizmonim that were composed anywhere from the period of the Anshei Knesses Hagedolah (a period that ended around 100 BCE) to the Dark Ages (500 to 900 CE), all the way up to eighteenth century (for example, Shalom Aleichem was written in the seventeenth century). There are tefillos whose composers are anonymous and whose implementers are not quite clear. Who composed Avinu Malkeinu (not simply the few stanzas that come from Rabbi Akiva in Taanis25b)? Who designed Pesukei d’Zimra in its current form (not just the daily hallel referred to in Shabbos 118)?

    And yet the siddur is seen as one unit; in fact, its name means “order.” The term “siddur” has strong associations for each one of us, connected as it is to a favorite publisher, a specific font, a particular translation, and familiar customs.

    Not a week goes by without someone asking me a question about the siddur that teaches me something new, fostering an even deeper appreciation of its wisdom and depth.

    Recently Shevach High School, the local Bais Yaakov high school where I teach, had its 37th annual dinner. Among the worthy honorees were the recipients of the Torah Heritage Award, Rabbi and Mrs. Paysach Krohn. Miriam Krohn is the associate principal for limudei kodesh, and her husband, one of the founding baalei batim of the school, needs no introduction.

    All the speeches that evening were wonderful and touching. It was especially moving to see the special gift the Krohns received. As most readers know, Rabbi Krohn began his career as a maggid by developing a close relationship with the famed maggid of Yerushalayim, Rav Shalom Schwadron, and publishing a number of books of Rav Schwadron’s stories and divrei chizzuk.

    The director of the school told the audience that the dinner committee members had contemplated what to give the Krohns. At first they had thought that the perfect gift would be a silver washing cup, and they even had the perfect inscription: “Maggid, Rachtzah”! But they soon discovered that the Krohns already had a beautiful washing cup.

    An assistant then came up to the podium and handed the director the real gift—a magnificent original painting of Rav Shalom Schwadron.

    Everyone in the room was taken aback.

    In his acceptance speech, Rabbi Krohn said that he wished to give everyone at the dinner a gift as well.

    “On everyone’s table is a card with a special tefillah for parnasah written by the Chayei Adam (Rabbi Avraham Danzig, d. 1820) in his tzava’ah.” (The Chayei Adam was Rabbi Avraham Danzig, d. 1820, and the tzava’ah can be found in his Beis Avraham, #16.) The Chayei Adam urged his family to recite this special tefillah before they engaged in any business dealings.

    Rabbi Krohn said he had recently heard an idea connecting this tefillah to the month of Adar. In an Ashkenazi siddur, the special Yehi Ratzon that we say on Shabbos Mevarchim contains the word “chaim” 11 times (“chaim aruchim, chaim shel shalom,” etc.). Someone suggested to him that these 11 chaims represent the 11 times we say Birchas Hachodesh during the year (not 12 since we do not bentch Rosh Chodesh for the month of Tishrei).

    Perhaps, he continued, each chaim corresponds to a month. If we start with Marcheshvan, chaim aruchim would be a unique tefillah for that month, chaim shel shalom would be unique to the month of Kislev,and so on. It works out that the chaim for Adar is chaim shel parnasah,making this month an auspicious time to recite the tefillah of the Chayei Adam!

    It was a wonderful idea, but it struck me that I had already seen something like this. I was excited when I was able to locate a source, and I contacted Rabbi Krohn the next day to share something remarkable with him.

    First, the idea that these 11 chaims represent the 11 months for which we say Birchas Hachodesh is first mentioned in an old edition of the classic sefer Shaarei Ephraim, by the mechaber of Bris Avos (see the page called “Shaarei Rachamaim,” 10:49). He cites others who mentioned it, indicating that many gedolim had this idea.

    But there is something even more interesting. In the sefer Birchas Hachodesh, the prolific author Rav Tzvi Cohen of Eretz Yisrael cites an article in Sefer Moadim by Rav Tzvi Hirsch Farber, in which the author demonstrates how each month is connected to its chaim. For example, he explains that on 17 Marcheshvan the waters of the mabul began to pelt the earth, killing all life, and a year later, on 27 Marcheshvan,the waters receded; therefore, the chaim for this month represents life itself, chaim aruchim.

    I wondered how Rav Farber would explain Adar’srelationship to chaim shel parnasah. He asserts that Adar represents parnasah because Moshe died in this month. What is the connection to parnasah, you ask? Well, we know that when Moshe was niftar, the mann stopped. For the first time since achieving the status of a nation, we had to find our own parnasah, at the same time maintaining bitachon.

    What a beautiful correlation!

    Amazingly, this idea works out in an other instance. Many sifrei machshava (e.g. Likutei Halachos, tefilla 5) point out that the original 12 middle berachos of bakashah/request in shemoneh esreh represent the shevatim. Even when a 13th was added, they explain that this is due to Menashe and Ephraim being each seen as a shevat.

    It would seem that the same is true by the months of year, where they also equal twelve or thirteen, depending on an extra Adar.

    With this in mind, the other day I simply counted in shemoneh esreh from the first beracha of daas, correlating it to Tishrei etc. How delighted I was to see that the month of Adar, the sixth month, corresponds to the beracha of parnasa –birchas hashanim, the sixth beracha!

    Interestingly, the Aruch Hashulchan (siman 417:9) wanted to ban Birchas Hachodesh because we generally do not daven for personal needs on Shabbos. Many poskim, however, defended this practice by explaining that the chaims are not tefillos but are actually brachos! And others say that there is one exception when it comes to davening for personal matters on Shabbos, and that is parnasah, for which we may pray(Rav Felder in Yesodei Yeshurin, Vol. 4, p. 426; Shu”t Rivevos Ephraim 1:217; Noam, Vol. 12, pp. 222-223).

    So not only is the month of Adaran auspicious time to daven for parnasah,and not only is this fact alluded to in Birchas Hachodesh,but the allowance of prayer for our livelihood on Shabbos is what makes it possible for us to say this special tefillah each month.

    And we have gleaned all this from just three words in the siddur.

    Wishing readers the chaim of parnasah!

  • Surnames -Some Jewish History

    Surnames -Some Jewish History

    May, 2015

    Once, by a simcha in Buffalo, a man showed up to shul, took a yarmulke from the bin and placed it on his head. He came over and introduced himself to me as a lawyer in town, friendly with the father of the groom.

    “Babad is my last name”.

    That name seemed so familiar, but I just could not place it. “Do you possibly have relatives in Toronto (my home town)?” I asked him.

    He did not.

    I shrugged my shoulders, as if to say ‘my error’, and turned to move on to greet the next guest when he tapped me on my shoulder.

     “Perhaps my name is familiar to you because you know of my great ancestor, I think he wrote a book on the commandments?”

    Why, of course! Rav Yosef Babad was the author of the classic commentary to the Sefer Hachinuch, titled Minchas Chinuch. While I had never determined exactly how they were related, it was a reminder of just how last names can sometimes reveal so many secrets about a Jew.

    Last week we explored the idea of everyone having a unique story. In my time in the rabbinate I have been surprised over and over again with the amazing backgrounds of so many in my memberships, often from those one would least expect it.

    We talked about a neighbor of mine in Buffalo whom I had never met until several years there and his amazing background –to be continued in a future week.

    With the right knowledge a rav can sometimes begin a conversation with someone just from hearing their last name –where their family likely stemmed from (e.g. Reiss/Rice, Halpern), if they are a Kohen, and, sometimes, what possible minhagim they may have.

    While the genesis of Jewish last names is somewhat murky, historians agree that it was the sefardim who were first to take on this custom long ago. Indeed, there are some sefardim who may carry names that are predicated upon pesukim, teffilos or zemiros. Those examples may be described as more than simply chosen last names, rather they represent, better put, a type of quasi family coat of arms.

    Some of the oldest sefardi surnames –and the oldest Jewish surnames-go back to the end of the geonic era, and include Berdugo and Alfasi (refer to Dr. Chanan Rappaport’s article Sheimos U’Mishpachos B’Yisroel).

    When it comes to ashkanazim, however, the practice of last names begins far more recently. Up until not too long ago an individual was very often known through their paternal line, e.g. Avrahan ben Yitzchak.

    Of course, there were some exceptions, such as, for example, Teumim, Weil, Eiger, Bacharach, Mintz and Lowe, variations of which we find already in the 1400’s.

    It was not until 1787 and 1804, when the Austria-Hungarian empire and the Russians, respectively, issues decrees on many Jews to choose family names when surnames really took-off.

    Nevertheless, kinnuiyim or nicknames (for lack of a better term) to describe families dates back further, especially in larger cities. Examples of these range from Metzger, Kaufman and Kaplan/Rokeach for certain occupations, and Frank or Frankel for those stemming from Germany (Frankfurt). The latter surname would often begin as a nickname when someone moved to, say Italy from Frankfurt.

    For example, Rav Yehudah Mintz, known today as the Mahari Mintz, moved from Mainz in Germany to Italy in the 1400’s. Once settled in his new home, he became known by the city he emigrated from, Mainz, or, Mintz.

    Beyond the examples above, and because a paternal name for a kohen or a levi would often anyway end with that term, last names like Cohen, Levi, Levin and Katz (abbreviated from ‘Kohen Tzedek’) are also older than most last names.

    Most famously is the last name Rappaport, and one of the rare last names with its own Wikipedia page! While some argue that this last name goes back to the 1400’s, the best evidence to its modern provenance is from the 1500’s when Rav Shlomo ben Menachem haKohen Rapa of Venice likely made a shidduch with Rav Avraham Porto haKohen. The former was the rav of this Italian community while the latter was its parnas. Together, the two last names form Rapa-Porto, Rappaport. Further, it seems that both of these families were able to substantiate their yichus all the way back to Ahron hakohen. For this reason, until today, kohanim with the last name of Rappaport are prized. Indeed, it is widely written that the Vilna Gaon would consistently throughout his lifetime redeem himself with coins for his pidyon haben out of fear that each kohen was not really a kohen. He did this until he met a kohen who was carried the last name of Rappaport, at which point he was satisfied.

    Speaking of the Vilna Gaon and last names, we discover another secret to surnames. In a recent biography on the life of the Vilna Gaon, the volume had the subtitle, ‘The story of Rav Eliyahu Kramer’, and in other books his surname is spelled Kremmer.

    However, historians now seem to agree that neither were his true last name, and this particular surname had only begun to become attached to the Gaon over the past sixty-seventy years.

    One resourceful researcher went back to look at the old Vinius (Vilna) census records, and lo-and-behold the true last name of the Vilna Gaon may have been discovered!

    “Eliasz Zelmanowicz, wife Chana, son Zelman, daughter Basia, and servant Nechama”. Later records show his second wife Gittel. However, even this researcher admits that the last name Zalmanovitz likely refers to the fact that his father’s name was Zalman. This is an illustrations of another way surnames sprung up.

    Some last names are of more recent vintage. Many changed their names upon moving to the new state of Israel. In Buffalo there was a young rav names Rabbi Freidfertick. A deep lover of Eretz Yisroel, about ten years ago he decided to pick up his family and learn in kollel and write sefarim the rest of his life. Upon doing so, he changed his last name to Tzion! (And he has written at least ten sefarim since the move!)

    My own last name, Taub, has a number of meanings. Some suggest it refers to a dove, others that it stems from tov/good. But there is another possibility.

    Once, an older gentleman, a guest in his shul, went over to my father to give shalom.

    “Vuz iz de rav’s nummen?” (What is the rabbi’s name?)

     “Taub”.

    “Voz?” (What?)

    “Taub”

    “Nechemul; vuz?” (Once again, what?)

     “Taub”

     “Ahn shuldiks mir, ubber ich bin toyb” (Excuse me, but I am the “deaf” one.

    You see, Taub in Yiddish can also mean deaf.

    I was reminded of this potential etymology when doing research on the topic of deafness in halacha for this column several years ago. I kept finding variants of my last name scattered throughout the literature. Often poskim of a couple of hundred years ago would discuss spending time with the deaf/mute they would describe these institutions as: Taub/Stummer-Schul (Deaf/Mute School).

    I like to imagine, that if this is indeed the source for my last name, it is not due to a deaf ancestor, but rather to a gadol who was ‘deaf’ to lashon hara!

  • Of P’tcha & Pedigree

    A Guest Reveals His Amazing Yichus and Backstory

    May, 2015

    “Everyone has a story to tell, everyone is a writer. Some are written in the books and some are confined to hearts.” American Proverb

    Indeed, everyone does have a story, just some are more remarkable than others.

    When I first moved to Queens, I made it a point to meet, over the course of a year, with every member of my shul. Naturally, the main purpose for such meetings would be to get to know them on a personal level.

    But there was something else driving me. I have come to learn that there is no single person in this world who does not have something fascinating in their background.

    So, whether it was the remarkable stories of survival of the holocaust by so many of their parents, the genius math-wizard father who worked together with Albert Einstein at Princeton, or the member who was Rabbi Schneerson’s physical therapist during his final years, these new members did not disappoint.

    In my old shul in Buffalo as well there were many stories. When I moved to Buffalo I naively believed that yiddeshkeit – at least the backgrounds I was used to –was confined to the major Torah centers of the world.

    But I was wrong.

    There was the one-hundred-year-old man from Dvinsk who was forced to bury his own family during the war. In his younger days, although unlearned, he recalled listening to the holy fires that left of the lips of the Meshech Chochma and the Rogatchover gaon. Although he never learned even a modicum of English, he would come each evening for davening and listen quietly to my divrei halacha. There was the retired Chabad rosh yeshiva, Rav Greenberg, who was chavrusos with Rav Shisgal and Rav Simcha Schustal –in their younger days they were known as ‘the three musketeers’ among their peers. He even once spent a Shabbos with Rav Menachem Zemba hy’d, while in yeshiva in Europe.

    However, due to language, sickness, or time –and sometimes all three- I was never able to develop a close relationship with either of these two men.

    But then came Shay.

    He had a ponytail and walked with a cane. He looked about eighty-years old, and had a small kipa seruga pinned to his grey, thinning slicked-back hair.

    I was walking to shul Shabbos morning when I first spotted him, lumbering slowly on the other side of the street.

    At this point I had lived in Buffalo for seven years and I had never seen this man before.

    I would have ventured that he was a guest, yet he was walking in an area that was residential and not near the many hotels where visitors would be staying.

    As I watched him slowly make his way to shul I asked the person I was walking with, who himself had lived in the neighborhood for many decades, “Who is this man?”.

    “Oh, him?” he responded, pointing to the older gentleman, “That is Shay Mintz, he lives a block away from you”.

    I was surprised, as I thought I knew of all the Jews-religious or otherwise-that lived in my close proximity.

    After davening I went over to give him a hearty shalom aleichem, and he could not have been sweeter.

    In fact, he asked me a question on the parsha. I can not now recall what the question was (and I wish I could!) but I do remember thinking that it was a good question, in fact, I recall thinking that it was too good of a kasheh for an amateur, someone new to Torah.

    I inquired more about this neighborhood visitor to shul and was told that although he himself has always been frum, he worked for many years for the adult education at the local conservative synagogue and helped run the Hillel at the University of Buffalo. The university’s campus was down the block from our shul and the reason why he was never in our shul is because he had been, for decades, running their Shabbos services.

    Once retired he still felt that perhaps he would be considered persona-non-grata in a frum shul, so he reluctantly stayed away. But he he could not go anymore without a minyan, and although quite sickly he began to walk the short distance to shul, which for him took much effort and time.

    I thought to myself that he must have come from a different, more confusing time in America and, nebech, got lost in the shuffle somehow. I mean, how ‘frum’ could he really be, could he really have been?

    The next week he was back, and then the week after that, and again after that. He soon became one of the the Shabbos regulars. Every week after davening he would always first comment to me about the drasha and then ask me a question on the parsha.

    In time I came to realize that every question he asked was taken from the sefas emes. ‘Interesting that he seems so fascinated with the sefas emes’, I would think for but a moment, but I never gave it any more contemplation.

    At one kiddush soon after he began coming to shul each week I mentioned to him that I wanted to get home as I had made fresh ptcha for Shabbos and wanted to see how it came out.

    Shay closed his eyes and, as if going back in time, he smiled and said “What I would do for a geshmekah piece of ptcha”.

    Naturally, I invited him for lunch. “Bring your wife as well”, I sincerely encouraged.  Sadness suddenly engulfed his face as he shared with me his present reality; his wife was in a home, suffering from late-unsought Alzheimer’s disease. So, from that Shabbos onward, Shay would come to my house almost every Shabbos lunch thereafter.

    It was at this first Shabbos seudah together that I discovered who this man really was.

    “So, Shay” I asked, as I cut him a healthy slice of my ptcha, “Where did you learn to eat such heimeshe food”.

    “Yerushalayim”, he replied.

    “Oh, you spent some time there?” I innocently inquired.

    “I was born there, before there was modern state”

    He paused, “Perhaps in your time in eretz yisroel you have seen some streets named ‘rechov mintz’ found in Yerushalayim, Bnei Brak and other cities?”

    “Yes” I replied with, in truth, only a shadow of a vague memory of such streets.

    “Well, these were named after my father”

    He then pointed to a sefer I had on my shtender from the great gaon and bibliophile Rav Reuvein Margolios zt’l. He began to swell with tears how recounted the time he had spent with that genius in Torah.

    Just who was this man at my Shabbos table, who lived just a block away from me in, of all places, Buffalo, New York?!

    Well, my dear reader, Shay Mintz, passed away last week in Yerushalaim. Sitting and writing this column has been cathartic, my way of dealing with his passing.

    There is so much I want to share with the reader about his amazing life. But the news was so sudden, I am scrambling to find in my boxes the letters he kept from Rav Meir Shapiro, the great rebbes of Gur, and the biography of his father that he published, and much, much more.

    Just who was Shay Mintz, and how he went from a chassideshe yingle in pre-Israel Yerushalim to Upsate New York?

    For that story the reader should seek out his book -about his father’s life and his -titled Ai Shel Efshar (Hebrew).

  • Source Code

    Are There Sources For Famous “Chazal” Sayings?

    May, 2015

    “Don’t believe every quote you read on the internet”

    Abraham Lincoln

    This will hopefully be a fun, yet illuminating article in honor of Shavous.

    “Ein navi b’iro”-It is hard to be a Navi in one’s hometown, is a common expression used to articulate the idea that it is hard to find honor among those who knew a person from back in their youth.

    Where is the adage taken from? One can search all the ‘Bar Ilan’ Torah software’s, as well as all the libraries of the world, yet come to one conclusion –it does not come from chazal, rather it comes from a book within a series of books that, lets just say, is often found in hotel room drawers.

    This does not mean that it did not emanate first from within klal yisroel, rather that we do not find it written in toras chazal.

    In past Shavous issues we discussed the idea of hufuch bu v’hufuch bu sh’kulu bu, that everything can be found within the Torah. Be it science or mathematics, we sought to demonstrate the inherent truth of this statement.

    Ironically, this year, I wish to show saying that while people often assume come from the Torah or chazal in relaity are not found, at least not in the written form. Many gedolim and mechabrei sefarim have published their own lists of unsourced ‘chazals’ (see, for example, ‘Otzar Hayedios’ chelek 2 by Rav Yechiel Michel Stern, and, ‘Mitzuveh V’Oseh’ ch. Talmud Torah by Rav Shmuel Freidman), and we will offer ours.

    While many of the sayings we will mention may indeed be alluded to in chazal, they are either not said the way we same them, and sometimes not clearly even hinted at.

    Some axioms have their provenance in early rishonim. For example, ‘Bo Shabbos, bo menuchah’ –with Shabbos’s arrival comes tranquility, is a Rashi, but not a chazal.

    Others have their source in kabala. For example, “Ein davar omed b’fnei haratzon”-nothing can stand in the way of will, is stated, although in different terms, by the Zohar.

    In fact, the latter category may help illume history. Rav Chaim Kinievsky writes (Krias Melec,h p.282, in the footnote) that the Rambam never saw or studied the Zohar. However, some disagree. Rav Reuvein Margolios wrote an article seeking to prove that the Rambam must have studied the Zohar. One of the famous examples is a ruling in Rambam (hilchos deos 2:7) that has now become a famous Jewish proverb: ‘kol hakoes k’ilu oved avodah zara’- whoever loses their temper it is as if he served idolatry.

    This statement can not be found anywhere in chazal, however it is stated by the Zohar several times.

    While some indeed use this, among other statements of Rambam, as evidence that he had access to the Zohar, Rav Chaim (ad loc.) explains that such examples more likely came from the sefarim of the geonim or midrashim that Rambam had access to yet that are no longer today extant.

    Indeed, this proverb is strongly alluded to by chazal themselves. The gemara (Shabbos 105) states, “Anyone who tears his clothing in anger, or breaks utensils, etc. is as if he served idolatry”.

    A similar example of a famous proverb that likely came from an analogous chazal is ‘maaseh avos siman la’banim’-the actions and histories of our forefathers allude to the future history of klal yisroel. Although originated and mentioned by the Ramban several times in his peirush on chumash (see, e.g., 12:6), we have no chazal utilizing this phrase. However, chazal do say that Hashem told Avraham “Stay! –as you are a siman for your children” (Bereishis Rabba).

    But there are still maxims for which we seemingly find no written source at all. One of the most famous examples of these may be, ‘Devarim hayotzim min halev nichnasim el halev’ –things said from the heart enter the hearts of others. Although a very popular expression, it is not found in any writing from chazal or kabala!

    The well-known three volume encyclopedic work ‘Michlol Hamaamarim V’Pisgamim’, sources this adage to R’ Moshe Ibn Ezra (d.1066), while others (see the yarchon Nezer Hatorah, kislev 5769 p. 305, as well as Metzuveh V’oseh p.367) source this proverb to a gemara (Berachos 6) where we are taught that any person with yiras shomayim will find his words listened to.

    Another, perhaps even more surprising, axiom that has no known source is ‘Yeshuos/Teshuos Hashem b/k’heref ayin’ –the salvations of Hashem can/will come in the blink of an eye. While certainly a statement in fact to any baal emunah, it is not a pasuk as some may asume, and in truth is not found even in chazal.

    While some quote Rav Aryeh Levin as asserting that this came from a piyut said on the Yomin Noroim, in the Torah journal Ohr Yisroel, Rav Gedalia Oberlander offers other potential sources. He first brings from other sefarim and likkutim that sought to find its source, one even suggesting, incorrectly, that it came from a midrash Tanchuma. In the end he shows numerous piyuttim over the centuries that use this idiom.

    This should not trouble is, for as a nation suffering through two-thousand years of galus we likely developed this phrase, as well as many others, as a response to amazingly swift salvations, as well as in the hope of future ones.

    Moments before I sent this article in to the editor, I found one last amazing potential source for this most famous adage. In a Hebrew academic work on the siddur (‘Teffila L’yisroel Bihitpachusa Ha’historiot’) where the authors lay out every nusach of the siddur ever discovered, they show a nusach of Shemoneh Esreh from a geniza in Eretz Yisroel that reads as follows (ibid. p. 392): “…michalkel chaim b’chesed…m’chayei meisim k’heref ayin yeshuah lanu tatzmiach…”!

    Another famous proverb goes, ‘mi sh’yeish lo manah ratzah ma’asaim’-when one acquires a hundred (he will not be satisfied, rather) he will then desire two hundred. No such chazal exists, although it is strongly alluded to in Koheles Rabbah (1:32).

    There are so many more examples of proverbs from unknown sources.

    • ‘Kol harodef achar hakavod, kavod baorech momenu’-whoever chases honor will find honor allude him (likely taken from the Shelah, korach).
    •  ‘Mitzvah habah l’yadecha al tachmitzenah’-when a mitzvah comes up do not push it off (mentioned by the Rama siman 625 and perhaps first formulated by Rashi to Megilla 6b)
    • ‘Kabal es ha’emes m’mi sh’amro’-accept the truth from whoever says it
    • ‘Kabdeihu V’Chadsheihu’-Honor (all) but remain suspectful. (In America there is a simaler saying, rooted in Reganism: ‘Trust but verify’)
    • ‘B’yoser sh’yehudi shomer es hashabbos, hashabbos shomeres es hayehdui’-As much as the Jew kept Shabbos (throughout the generations), Shabbos has ‘kept’ us Jewish.
    • ‘Osiyos machkimos’ –letters make us wise. This is a very common expression with a few meanings, yet that has no known provenance.

    But perhaps the most famous example of this column’s topic is the one that will surprise the most.

    ‘Hamakom yenachem eschmen b’soch shaar avlei tzion v’yerushalim’. Although commonly said upon taking leave of an avel, its provenance is a mystery. Although the Tur and others give other sentences to say that strike some of the same themes, the hamakom we say must have developed over time.

    In fact, even before shiva, by the levaya itself, there is a pasuk often quoted (Yeshayahu 25:8) that although exists, is so often misquoted. The famous niggun based on this pasuk goes, ‘umucha Hashem dima m’al kol panim’-Hashem (in the days of Moshiach) will erase the tears from upon our faces. Although popularized through this song, the actual pasuk reads ‘umucha Hashem Elokim dima m’al kol panim’.

    All of this should only serve to galvanize ourselves this Shavous to study as much of the Torah Shb’ksav and Baal Peh for ourselves, thereby knowing what indeed stems from chazal and what does not, and by which will bring the merits to hasten the very day to which the Yeshayahu hanavi was reffering. A gutt yom tov to all

  • For Whom Does Shabbos Food Taste & Smell Special?

    For Whom Does Shabbos Food Taste & Smell Special?

    The Mailman’s Kugel and the Sweet Smell of Shabbos

    I once heard quoted in the name of Rav Yisroel Reisman who suggested, in humor of course, that a non-Jew will never understand the pleasure of not having to say tachanun on a Monday or a Thursday due it being a yom simcha.

    In truth there are many pleasures (outside the beauty of the Torah itself!) not understood outside our macheneh. In my old shul one of the congregants become frum later in life. Already married and leading successful professional lives, they gave up much of their creature comforts to embrace an existence of Torah and chesed.

    In the initial process of coming toward Torah, before they were fully frum, they would often be invited out for Shabbos lunch. Recounting these shabbosim to me, now years later, they remarked how they were amazed that their hosts were restricted from going anywhere beyond their neighborhood to do some other activity after the meal. After all, the whole day lay ahead.

    “What do you do the rest of the day?” they  sincerely wondered. “It is now only two-pm and Mincha is not for another six hours!”

    The host family respectfully and honestly replied that they spend the remainder of the day with a mix of learning Torah, and the kids playing games, and often they take a nap.

    “We were shocked to hear this!” they recounted, now years later. “Who goes to bed after a Saturday lunch?! How does on sleep away an afternoon?

    “But then sometime later we kept our first Shabbos. By lunch, we ate cholent and sang songs and by the time bentching arrived we felt a deep sense of menucha fall upon us. And that is when the ‘shabbos-nap’, and its unique pleasures, finally made sense!”

    But it is not just the Shabbos nap that is unique to us.

    The following story is absolutely true, and happened just weeks ago.

    Every erev Shabbos I begin my day by teaching at Shevach High School, after which I come home for a quick lunch and then go to my office to prepare for my Shabbos shiurim.

    Like many, my quick snack on Fridays is a piece of hot, fresh kugel straight out of the oven. As in many homes, in our house too more kugel is eaten then than on Shabbos itself.

    As I typically arrive home before my children, I always get the first crack of the kugel. On this particular week I arrived home to see that someone got to it first…the mailman. As I came up the steps I see him –with his uniform and bag in toe – sitting on the bench outside my home with a plastic spoon and bowl blowing on piping hot kugel!

    It was such a peculiar portrait!

    I figured there must be a story here. Walking into my house I asked my wife, humorously, “Why is the mailman eating my kugel?”

    She explained that a few minutes prior there was a knock at the door. She opened it to see the mailman standing there with a package she needed to sign for.

    She also noticed that his mood was solemn, almost rude.

    “Is everything alright, sir?” she kindly inquired.

    Usually when you ask that of a stranger it is meant as rhetorical, a way of saying ‘cheer up’, or to have them know that their mood is showing.

    This postman, however, was more than happy to not only admit that he was unhappy, but also to share the reason for his bitter mood.

    “For years I was a mailman in Kew Gardens. Every week I would dread Fridays because inevitably there were some houses whose doors I would need to knock on. When I saw a mezuzah I knew what would come next: the door would open and most unbelievable smells of cooking foods would waft out. My mouth would water and my stomach grumble! This would happen at house after house

    “’What was that smell?’ I always wondered. ‘What are they making that always smells so good?’

    “Then I was moved to a different area, where Orthodox Jews do not live, and where I didn’t have to be teased with those smells every Friday. But now I was switched routes again, this time to your area, and its happening again!”

    My wife concluded, “I felt so bad that I went into the kitchen and pulled the just ready kugel from the oven and handed him a piece, telling him to take a break and eat it on the porch outside”

    As my wife recounted all of this to I could not help my laughing. “Its like feeding pigeons! Before you know it there will be lines outside our house each Friday with post office workers!”

    In Monsey, near my in-laws, there is mailman who stops his route every Shabbos in one home near Forshay so that he can sit down and eat cholent and have a lechaim!

    However, although I am sure these mailmen enjoyed their food, it is doubtful that they receive the same geshmak we do, for he is not the first non-Jew to note the special smell of Shabbos food (more: see what the Bnei Yisaschar writes in mamrei hashabbasos 1:12!).

    The gemara (Shabbos 119) tells us of the Caesar who asked Rav Yehoshua ben Chanania why the food for Shabbos smells so wonderful.

    He famously responded, “There is a special spice, and Shabbos is its name, that we place in our food and it causes its smell to penetrate the senses”

    Caesar responds, “Well, please give some of this spice!”

    To which Rav Yehoshua ben Chanania responded, “It only works for those who keep Shabbos”.

    Caesar’s reaction is strange. Once Rav Yehoshua informed him that the secret ‘spice’ was Shabbos, how could the Caesar request this nontangible item for himself?

     In a fascinating explanation of this Gemara, the Maharsha suggests that Caesar misunderstood the reply. This is because the Mishnah (Uktzin 3:4) teaches us of a spice actually named ‘shabas’, and this was the spice that the Caesar thought Rav Yehoshua was referring to.

    It was this mistake to which Rav Yehoshua responded, “No, I meant that the smell is due to those who keep Shabbos, the day”.

    The Maharal suggests another fascinating interpretation to this chazal. Caesar was actually making fun of the Jews who because they can not eat fresh hot food on Shabbos it does not smell good. To this Rav Yehoshua responded, “To those who keep Shabbos, the food is always delicious”. Meaning, that we love Shabbos so much that the food tastes as good, if not better, than when fresh.

    The Maharal’s brother (in Sefer Hachaim 3:6) offers a deeper explanation. We all have moments where we question emunah, especially emunah that comes from our own intellect. Just like a dish needs spice, so too does Shabbos act like the tavlin/spice to our faith in the Torah.

    Even more interesting is what I discovered after this ‘mailman’ incident. The Bnei Yisaschar writes (mamrei hashabbasos 1:12) that food for Shabbos should not, if possible, be given to non-Jews! This, however, is not due to our feeling superior, rather for their own protection. He explains that for Jews Shabbos food is a sam hachaim, while for others it can be a sam maves. The Tiferes Shlomo (Mishpatim, 21:19) teaches similarly, explaining that not only does Shabbos food taste and smell good, it contains the power to heal!

    The Tiferes Shlomo (Mishpatim, 21:19) teaches that not only does Shabbos food taste and smell good, it contains the power to heal!

    Rav Moshe Feinstein would often suggest (see Rav Moshe, Artscroll) a difference between the families in early America whose children maintained their yiddeshkeit and those that did not. These Europeans arrived to these shores during period in our recent history when one who did not show up to work on Shabbos would immediately lose their job.

    The first group, whose children often maintained their yiddeshkeit, would be b’simchah on Shabbos, even though they will soon be summarily fired. In fact, I know of one family who, in the 1930’s and 40’s, would decorate their Sukkah walls with all the pink-slips received due to not coming into work on Shabbos!

     The latter group, however, would come home on Shabbos, justifiably fearing that their new job would now be lost, and exclaim “Es iz shver tzu zein ah yid!’-It is tough to be a Jew.

     No message is more dangerous for children to hear, and one that could risk alienating them from Torah.

    Rather we must recognize that beyond the day-to-day challenges and battles there are bountiful gifts and secret gems both open and hidden within all of the mitzvos.

    Today, especially without those challenges of yore, we must show our children that we do not only keep Shabbos, but that we delight in it and its gashmiyos and ruchniyos pleasures.

    So, pass the kugel, please!

    

    
			
    
		
    
		
	
  • 
		
		
    
			
    A Lag B’Omer Secret
    
			
    A Lag B’Omer Secret
    
			
    

     The Mystery Behind Why We Celebrate.


    Why Do We Celebrate The Plague Ending, If It Already Killed ALL 24,000 of Rebbe Akiva’s Students ?
    




    April, 2015
    




    Lag ‘Bomer always falls on the same day of the week as that year’s Purim.
    




    Perhaps this is not simply by chance.
    




    After all, if there are two days during the year when the focus is on children, and that our children look forward to the most, it is these two days.
    




    We may find an even deeper connection between these two days. The Shulchan Aruch points out the above Purim-Lag B’omer day connection (siman 428:1), also providing us with a siman to remember this rule: the Hebrew word peleg (pe’lg= purim/lag b’omer).
    




    Perhaps this word alludes to the very heart of the potential breech that can take place between these two days each and every year.
    




    On Purim we provide each other with mishaloach manos, in large part to foster closeness, friendship and camaraderie between Jews. However, and as the word peleg (sect, or faction) alludes, too often that closeness can quickly dissipate.
    




    After all, at the heart of Lag B’omer is the history of Jews not showing each other proper respect. So, whereas on Purim we had an enemy from without, on Lag’B’omer we recall the lurking enemy from within.
    




    For, although chazal make no mention of this period of mourning that precedes Lag B’omer (it was a minhag that became solidified as law in the days of the geonim), they do often recall the death of the students of Rebbe Akiva during these days, and the reason for their demise –their lack of kavod for one another.
    




    However, even this is somewhat murky. When chazal share with us the story of Rebbe Akiva’s students’ death, not always are the same terms used.
    




    In the gemara (Yevamus 62b) the story is told as follows: “Rebbe Akiva had 12,000 pairs of students…who all died in the same period because they did not show each other proper respect”. Later, the gemara will inform us that this ‘same period’ was in fact during the days between Pesach and Shavuos.
    




    However, in the midrash (Bereishis Rabba 61:3) when these same events are taught, there are some slight discrepancies: “Rebbe Akiva had 12,000 students…who all died in the same period. Why did they die? Because they looked at each other begrudgingly (ayin tzara)”
    




    The first difference between these two sources is the number of talmidim we are told that died –the gemara teaches a total of 24,000 (12,000 pairs), while the midrash gives us their number as 12,000 total. Even more difficult is the Tanchuma (Chayay Sara, 6) that teaches us that the total number of Rebbe Akiva’s students, as well as the total of those that perished, was 300.
    




    To answer this first discrepancy, we could suggest a simple solution. Chavrusa’s are supposed to be symbiotic and united as one. For this very reason does the gemara describe them as 12,000 pairs instead of simply saying 24,000. The midrash was only furthering this same idea by actually counting each pair as one entity. As for the 300 figure, see Shekalim 21b as well as many other gemaras where the number ‘300’ is often used as a descriptive for any large number (see Gra ad loc.).
    




    However, the greater difficulty – at least as it relates to our own personal growth – is how on the one hand the gemara describes their bad behavior as a general lack of respect for each other, while the midrash designates a specific flaw of jealousy and contempt for each others’ personal and Torah growth.
    




    The Sifsei Chaim quotes from the Ponivitcher Rav who explained that there is in fact no discrepancy at all. Chazal are informing us how even a small putrid midda can sometimes metastasize and destroy so much more. The midda they failed in was,as the midrash accurately teaches, ayin tzara. However, that seemingly small failing colored so much else, to the point of each student becoming so fearful of the other’s growth as to not show proper respect to one another. This then caused all of their learning to be for the sake of their own personal benefit – to be better than the other – and not l’shmah. (Sifsei Chaim, 3).
    




    The Maharsha echoes this idea by asserting that due to their jealousy they likely spoke lashon hara about each other. In fact, he points out that the disease that killed them –asakrah- is taught to be related to the sin of lashon hara (Shabbos 33a).
    




    As to why they died specifically during this period of the year, the Beis Yosef brings from the Tashbetz a stunning explanation: the chillul Hashem caused when talmidei chachamim do not act properly leads people to say, “Woe to those who study Torah!” R’l. For this reason, they perished during our countdown to Shavuos and the giving of the Torah!
    




    The Maharsha suggests the reason this time of the year was chosen for their demise was for a more technical reason. Hakodosh Barush Hu wanted it to be clear that this was a Divine punishment. Chazal teach (Shabbos 147a) that the period between Pesach and Shavuos is set aside with the special power to heal. Their death during that same period would suggest to the homan am that this was clearly a punishment from Above.
    




    On the point that this time of year contains the power to heal, the Chasam Sofer to that gemara suggests that it refers specifically to the month of Iyar, and is alluded to in the pasuk ‘Ki Ani Hashem Rofecha’ (I am you Gd, your Healer), the first letters of the last words spelling out ‘Iyar’.
    




    There is so much more that lays beneath the surface of these days, but let me end with one more hidden message contained in the many chazals that discuss this story.
    




    Both in the midrash and the gemara, always, the discussion that leads chazal to mention the students of Rebbe Akiva was a lesson derived from Koheles 11:6 “Do not be idle in the evening”.
    




    From here chazal derive the lesson that if you study Torah in your youth, make sure to also study in your old age. Whenever this lesson is taught, invariably, it causes chazal to teach us the story of Rebbe Akiva’s students. This is because the greatest lesson we can draw from it is how Rebbe Akiva never gave up. Even when he lost everything, he rebuilt his yeshiva again in the ‘evening’ of his life.
    




    This may also explain the significance of Lag B’omer as a day of celebration – a famous debate (as, after all, there were no more students left to perish!), and which was the subject of last year’s column.
    




    Lag B’Omer always falls out on the 18th of Iyar.
    




    In the gemara (Rosh Hashana 11) we learn that according to R’ Yehoshua the first day of the mabul in the days of Noach was the 17 of Iyar.
    




    According to many (see Sefer Hayashar, cf. Ibn Ezra) the waters by the Flood killed everyone on the first day, so that by the 18th of Iyar the deaths ended. The 18th of Iyar is also the date when we recall how another mageifa ended on this same day –the deaths of Rebbe Akiva’s students.
    




    Perhaps, then, Lag B’omer, or the 18th of Iyar is set aside as a time of renewal. It reminds us of two people who saw their world lay desolate, having witnessed all they built destroyed by a Divine decree. More saliently, it reminds us that on this date, twice in our history-by Noach and again by Rebbe Akiva- neither surrendered to forlorn, rather they galvanized themselves to start over, again.
    




    As we see the dead trees of winter suddenly revivified by Spring, so too may we take the lessons of these days and work to have those relationships thought to have also withered on the vine have a second chance.
    

    
			
    
		
    
		
	
  • 
		
		
    
			
			
    Judaism and Veganism
    
			
    

    See also the following posts:

    “Vegans, Vegetarians, and Sensitivity”

    “Vegan Restaurants: A Kashrus Minefield” 
    




    Society will always be judged by history by how they reacted to their own major events.
    




    How did Germany react to the rise of Hitler?
    




    How did Bush and America respond to 9-11?
    




    Enter a new question for the history books that, in my judgment, will go down as marking a red-letter day when leftist culture had officially taken over the American milieu:
    




    How did America react to the Cincinnati Zoo gorilla incident?
    




    As we approach that day’s one-year anniversary, let me first catch the reader up to speed: In May of 2016, a mother of small children went to the zoo. Her three-year-old asked if he could get a closer look at the gorilla. Of course, the mother was heard saying ‘No!’.
    




    Focusing for a moment on the other children in her entourage was all it took for the 3-year-old to somehow climb over the fence and fall into the gorilla enclave.
    




    Zookeepers rushed to the now the screaming crowd and saw the 450 pound gorilla, named Harambe, holding the child.
    




    They promptly shot the gorilla.
    




    My reaction upon hearing this was not just of relief, but that this incident finally answered a nagging question I always had about how prepared the zoo keepers are for such an emergency. I was not just in obvious agreement with their decision, but also impressed.
    




    To quote then candidate Donald Trump: “The way he held that child, it was almost like a mother holding a baby … It was so beautiful to watch that powerful, almost 500-pound gorilla, the way he dealt with that little boy. But it just takes one second … one little flick of his finger.”
    




    Parenthetically, now a year later, his reaction to this incident may give more away about our president’s approach to foreign policy than simply about animal protection.
    




    But many disagreed. Animal Rights activists and common citizens were oddly up in arms about this. Aside for the frightening death threats against this boy’s mother, the zoo also was attacked.
    




    Their concerns were so far removed from common-sense that one wonders how quickly some, and our culture, are becoming unhinged from basic social mores.
    




    In fact, in a time when the holder of the White House was thought by some to be potentially sympathetic to their cause, five-hundred thousand people signed the following petition on the government’s website (emphasis mine):
    




    “The zoo made the last-resort decision to shoot Harambe because of the increased risk of aggression if a tranquilizer was used in such close proximity to a human. This heartbreaking decision was made in the best interests of keeping the child and the public safe. This beautiful gorilla lost his life because the boy’s parents did not keep a closer watch on the child. We the undersigned believe that the child would not have been able to enter the enclosure under proper parental supervision. Witnesses claim that they heard the child state that he wished to go into the enclosure and was actively trying to breach the barriers. This should have prompted the parents to immediately remove the child from the vicinity. It is believed that the situation was caused by parental negligence and the zoo is not responsible for the child’s injuries and possible trauma. We the undersigned want the parents to be held accountable for the lack of supervision and negligence that caused Harambe to lose his life. We the undersigned feel the child’s safety is paramount in this situation. We believe that this negligence may be reflective of the child’s home situation. We the undersigned actively encourage an investigation of the child’s home environment in the interests of protecting the child and his siblings from further incidents of parental negligence that may result in serious bodily harm or even death.”
    




    Some people wished to compare this incident to the case of a three-year-old fifteen years ago outside Chicago where a gorilla held the fallen boy until helped arrived. However, that case was far different, as the child then was unconscious and there was no fear of sudden movements, yelling and confusion –all of which could have led the gorilla to change his calm demeanor.
    




    It may of interest to note that chazal in the beginning of Bava Kama teach that there is a distinction in the punitive perspective toward the animal that harms another animal and the animal that harms a human. Rashi, in his second explanation, explains that a human is harder to harm due to its distinct mazel. I imagine many in the outside world would bristle at such a view.
    




    I was reminded of this story, and its anniversary, when I was asked the other day what the Torah’s view is on vegetarianism. In fact, this is a question that rabbanim get with some frequency.
    




    I was once asked by someone –a wonderful man who would identify himself as someone with strong ties to leftist academia- if he may halachikly abstain from meat consumption. I responded, “You can be a vegetarian on one condition”. He listened intently as I revealed the one rule he was to follow. “You may not tell anyone that you are a vegetarian”.
    




    He laughed because he understood my point. Too often those that accept meta-ethics upon themselves do so, consciously or otherwise, to feel superior. For some (and, of course, we are excluding those who refrain from meat due to health reason or the like), excluding them from advertising their life-choices would be to cut their desire at its knees.
    




    Suffice it to say that while there is possibly no halachik concern with being a vegetarian (perhaps even on yom tov when some hold one has a mitzvah to eat meat–see Chullin 11b and siman 529 with commentaries), why one chooses to do so not only makes a difference in halacha but in hashkafa as well. Should one feel he is superior to other Jews, or to halacha, or to R’l Hashem and his Torah then it would not only be likely forbidden but if allowed would risk changing the landscape of the petitioner’s entire prism of Torah-based morality.
    




    However, we must also be careful to maintain a balance here, as well as to be cognizant of the Torah’s own ethics toward animals.
    




    The gemara lists those from our historical past who were destined to be moshiach had we earned it, or are the exemplar of the middos of the future moshiach (based on the two explanations to this gemara found in Rashi). It also lists someone from their own generation, still alive, that either was to be moshiach should they earn it or who was an exemplar of such middos. The person in the latter category so named was none other than Rebbe Yehudah Hanassi.
    




    Rashi explains that one of the reasons he was chosen as moshiach was because of an incident he was involved in that caused him to suffer throughout his life.
    




    Rebbe Yehudah Hanasi was passing by a slaughter house when a cow came over to him and pleaded to be saved from death/shechitah. Rebbe Yehudah Hanasi responded to the cow, “lech! sh’lekach notzarta!” –Go! For this is why you were created!
    




    What did he say wrong? After all, don’t we all eat meat? The mistake he made was in defining an animal’s sole existence as that of for food and slaughter. Do we not use cows for plowing, for fertilizer, etc.? Do they not serve purposes beyond human needs, adding and playing a part in the brilliant cyclical ecosystem and bionetwork that we all live in?
    




    For this error he suffered many years.
    




    Indeed, Sefer Chasidim is cited as having remarked that we are allowed to eat meat because they also give us the parchment necessary to write our Torah and our Teffilin!
    




    Of course there is no doubt that the yiddeshkeit places a high value on all animal life, and even when it comes to how one treats animals we have been way ahead of the curve –having dealt with these serious issues long before the world was awoken to them. Furthermore, in a perfect world we too would abstain from meat, as was in the days before Noach.
    




    But the anniversary of these events in Cincinnati remind us why Hashem felt it necessary to have us eat meat –so as not to compare ourselves to just another animal in the animal kingdom, a thought process that slowly led to humanity deserving of the mabul.
    




    Now –more so than ever –we need this reminder.
    




    The Ramban explains Yeshayahu 11:6 – “The wolf shall lie with the lamb” – as not a miracle of the days of moshiach but rather as a return to the true nature of old. However, we mustn’t act like the bnei Ephraim, forcing this future world upon a world not ready.
    




    Let us hope for those days to come when we are worthy, and not for the chaos of brought by forcing such holy nature before its time.
    

    
			
    
		
    
		
	
  • 
		
		
    
			
			
    The Role of the Rabbi
    
			
    

    December, 2015
    




    …The editor of the paper wished to do an essay on rabbanus. In order to facilitate this mission, he set out to interview four great geonim of the time and ask them, each, what the role of the Rav is…
    




    It is said that when Rav Chaim Volozion would send off a yungerman to a position of rabbanus he would first call him into his office.
    




    Likely assuming that great mysteries of the trade would be shared -treasured advice and collective wisdoms – we could only imagine the mixture of dread and anticipation these young men must have felt as they slowly made their way to meet with their holy rebbe.
    




    However, they were likely surprised when Rav Chaim would open his drawer and hand the young musmach a luach.
    




    A luach?
    




    He would explain that the role of a rav is many things. However, a rav must also keep in mind what balla battim may assume his role to be. While talmidei chachamim may understand that it is not shocking to be well-versed in the laws of choshen mishpat yet at the same time be unsure as to when the minhag of av harachamaim is said Shabbos morning, some in the audience may be shocked at this breech in knowledge.
    




    A rav must have the calendar on the tip of his tongue, explained Rav Chaim; the schedule for davening must be something that the rav never hesitates about, because it is something-rightfully-balla battim take very seriously.
    




    This past week in my shul a number of families had sons who received semicha from Yeshiva University, and over the course of the following Shabbos these families sponsored a kiddush, and, the newly-minted musmachim gave over a number of divrei torah and shiurim.
    




    To introduce the simcha felt among these families, I thought to say over the above story and hand each one a luach.
    




    I am now thankful for the fact that the sefarim store was out of luach; in hindsight it would have been a somewhat anti-climactic message.
    




    But then I remembered a story, a story that I had heard from one of the leaders of their yeshiva,  Rav Ahron Soleveitchik.
    




    I called my father to confirm the events, as I was but a child at the time.
    




    Rabbi Soleveitchik’s son-in-law, Rav Refoel Marcus, was a rav in Toronto until his untimely passing, and his father in law would visit from time to time. On occasion my father (and I) would go meet or hear him.
    




    It was at one of these visits that he shared the following story with us.
    




    At the turn of the century there was a non-religious newspaper, I believe named ‘Hatzoar’.
    




    While not religious, no doubt that each of the Hebrew writers grew up in religious homes, and some even spent time learning in yeshivos.
    




    The editor of the paper wished to do an essay on rabbanus. In order to facilitate this mission, he set out to interview four great geonim of the time and ask them, each, what the role of the Rav is.
    




    The first was Rav Refoel Shapiro, son in law of the Netziv, rosh yeshiva of Volozion and father in law of Rav Chaim Soleveitchk.
    




    “What is the job of the Rav” the reporter asked the holy gaon.
    




    As we would hope a rosh yeshiva would respond, Rav Shapiro said that the main goal of a rav is to make sure that the level of Torah and its learning was of the highest caliber.
    




    The reporter then went to Kovno to visit with Rav Yizchak Blazer. Also known as Rav Itzelle M’Petterburger (‘from St. Petersberg’ where he served as rav when he was but 25 years old), he was not just a gaon but also one of the prime disciples of Rav Yisroel Salanter.
    




    His response: A rav must give mussar to his congregants so that they should continually grow.
    




    The reporter then set out to Nevarduk to meet with illustrious posek Rav Epstein, who would go on to author the Aruch Hashulchan.
    




    It should surprise no one that when this important posek was asked by this reporter what the main job of rav was that he responded emphatically: ‘To pasken shailos’.
    




    Now it was time for this reporter to make one last stop. He boarded a train to Brisk to meet with Rav Chaim Soleveitchik.
    




    The reporter must have been beyond curious as to what answer Rav Chaim would give to his question.
    




    After all, it seemed that any of the previous answers would each be suited for his style.
    




    After posing the question, Rav Chaim paused. Always the wisest in any room, Rav Chaim first turned to the reporter and asked, probably half-jokingly: “First tell me what the others responded”.
    




    Rav Chaim carefully listened to the sage advice of those geonim v’tzadikim who were interviewed before him.
    




    He nodded his head in agreement to each. “Yes, yes, to make sure everyone is holding in learning. Avadeh! Ki Heim Chayeinu! Torah must be a high virtue. But the job of a Rav? After all, this is everyone’s responsibilityas well.
    




    “To give mussar? Of course, of course. But, after all, we all have a mitzvah of hochayach tochiyach, not just the Rav, so this can not be the one job unique to to the rav.
    




    “To pasken shailos? No one can deny that this is from the most important jobs a rav has. But this too is not the ikar role of the rav.”
    




    At this point we can imagine the reporter waiting with baited breath to hear what indeed was the main job of a rav in the eyes of Rav Chaim.
    




    Rav Chaim leaned in and said, all that you have heard from the prior geonim is emes l’amito, however if you would like to know the main job of a Rav is, it is this: make sure the almana has food, the yosom has clothing and warmth. Do not go to bed until the poor have been fed and the lonely are made to feel less alone!
    




    And this was the message I gave over to the new musmachim.