Our Spiritual Basket

Our Spiritual Basket

In the United States there is a popular prize that appears frequently on many TV quiz shows and other similar competitions.  The winning contestant is given the opportunity to go on a ‘trolley dash’, meaning that he or she is given an empty trolley and a set amount of time and is then allowed free rein in a supermarket, toy store, clothing shop or other such retail outfit.  During that time, which is usually very short, the winner may place into his basket any product he desires, regardless of price.  The clever winner will carefully compile a list of his desired items beforehand and will also ensure that he has mapped out the best path around the store to allow himself maximum benefit from the time allotted.  The disorganized winner, however, will waste precious time accumulating unimportant and cheap goods.

Whatever you may feel about this unashamed contest of consumerism, it does provide us with the tools of understanding what our spiritual priorities should be.  This week’s parsha discusses an ancient form of the ‘trolley dash’, only in this case, the ‘winner’ was collecting the prize for someone else.  This ritual was known as the bringing of the first fruits (bikkurim) to the Temple, which was accompanied by a special reading by the farmer.  The Torah instructs the Nation prior to their entry into Israel (Devarim 26:1-11) that when they come into the land that Hashem has promised to their forefathers and have settled therein and worked the land, they are to bring from the first of their fruits to the Temple in a basket and present it to the Cohen on duty.  Once the Cohen has taken the basket from them, they are to recite a declaration of praise and thanks to Hashem for all of the goodness He has heaped upon them from the time of their ancestors till the present day.  Although this mitzvah can most definitely be understood in its literal sense and, indeed, the Mishna dedicates an entire Tractate (Tractate Bikkurim) to the procedure of bringing the bikkurim, nevertheless there is a much deeper intention behind the Torah’s words, as explained by the commentary of the Ohr Hachaim (Rabbi Chaim ben Attar, Morocco, 1696-1743).

This great cabbalist explained that the Torah is hinting to another ‘ceremony’ that will happen at the end of our mortal life.  “It shall be when you come to the land which Hashem has promised you” - this is a reference to the world to come, “you shall take from the first of your fruits” - this refers to the choicest deeds you have performed in your life, “and place them into a basket” - that is to say, the deeds must comply with the laws of the Torah, as explained in the Talmud which is comprised of roughly 60 Tractates, the same numerical value as the Hebrew word for basket (teneh).

As we go through life, we accumulate ‘fruits’, which are automatically placed into our spiritual basket.  It is this ‘basket’ that we will present one day to our Creator.  We are given but one basket and a set amount of time, albeit an amount of time that is not revealed to us, and during that time the challenge is to accumulate worthwhile fruits and not rotten or unripe specimens.  Just as the intelligent winner of ‘trolley dash’ plans his route and his product choice, so too must we plan our route in life and determine which deeds are the most favourable and worthwhile, which are simple necessities and which are pointless distractions.

Rabbi Paysach Krohn relates the story of a young Yeshiva student who went for an interview at the renowned Novordok Yeshiva in Lithuania.  During his meeting with the Rosh Yeshiva, he displayed an unacceptable amount of self-assurance and perhaps even arrogance, prompting the great Rabbi to tell him that he was not yet ready to enter the doors of that famous bastion of ethical behaviour and deep Torah learning.  Dejected, he went to the town’s local shul and found it deserted, expect for a solitary figure, a young man, who was engrossed in a certain page of the Talmud.  The young man kept on saying, over and over “chatof v’achol, chatof v’ishtei” - “grab and eat, grab and drink!”  These words come from the Talmudic Tractate of Eruvin (54a) where the great sage Shmuel said to Rav Yehudah: “Grab and eat, grab and drink, for this world, which is passing us by, is like a wedding feast!”  Rashi explains that just as a wedding feast is soon over, so too is the life of a man, and therefore it behooves us to snatch as much as possible from the ‘buffet table’ before the evening is over and we are left as hungry as when we came in.  The mysterious figure was inculcating into his psyche that in this world there is no time to waste and that he should therefore make the most of his studies and dedicate his life to accumulating the choicest ‘fruits’ - mitzvoth and kind deeds.  Those words, repeated over and over again, made such an impression on the young Yeshiva student that he immediately returned to the Yeshiva and declared that this time he was ready to enter.  The young man in the shul turned out to be Rabbi Ya’acov Kanievsky, the famed Steipler Gaon (genius from Steipel), who later made aliyah to Israel, took up residence in Bnei Brak and became one of the twentieth century’s greatest rabbinic minds.

There is just more than a week until Rosh Hashanah, the great Day of Judgment.  Let’s make sure that when we stand before G-d and present our case, we have filled our baskets with only the finest fruits!

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Liebenberg

 


Inequality

Inequality

Those laws of the Torah focusing on farming and working the land are often ignored simply because we no longer live in agricultural societies. But if we study them in detail, we will discover many lessons that are applicable even to this generation of city-dwellers. One of these is the Torah’s (Devarim 22:10) warning that: “You shall not plough with an ox and a donkey together.” The Sages of the Midrash (Sifrei) explain that this prohibition is not limited to an ox and a donkey or just to ploughing, but extends to any two species and to any other activities, including threshing or pulling a load, such as a wagon. Why does the Torah prohibit this?

Rambam (in The Guide To The Perplexed section 3:49) suggests that the prohibition of working two species together is actually a preventative measure to ensure that the farmer would not try to crossbreed them. If he were allowed to tie them together and plough a field, he may be tempted to mate them and thereby transgress the Torah’s rule about the crossbreeding of species. Most of the commentators reject the Rambam’s view and feel that this is a prohibition in its own right and should not be connected to the law against crossbreeding.

Rabbi Avraham ibn Ezra (Spain 1080-1164), one of the earliest Torah commentators, suggests that “G-d has compassion upon His creatures and [would not like them to work together] because the strength of a donkey is much less than that of an ox.” While one may take issue with this explanation because the prohibition is not limited to an ox and a donkey, nevertheless it teaches us an important life principle. G-d does not want two animals of unequal strength to work together on the same project because the one will tire out the other. What is true of animals is certainly true of human beings - we should not place two or more people of unequal strength and talent into a situation where the one overshadows the other. In the world of sport, one would never put a featherweight into the boxing ring with a heavyweight or send a ‘C’-side to play an ‘A’-side. It’s no contest and it’s unfair. This mistake is frequently made in the field of education. Often academically-minded ‘left-brained’ children are placed together with creative ‘right-brained’ children and both groups are expected to flourish with the same syllabus and the same teaching style. This experience can ruin a child’s academic career for life. A friend of mine at Yeshiva only realised a decade after leaving school why his grades had been so low - he had ADHD, but was never diagnosed. He was expected to master the same work as everyone else and he just could not. We need a radical rethink about education if we hope to cater for the varying levels of academic ability.

Unfortunately, the Yeshiva system has not been that different. The original curriculum, established in the famous “mother’ Yeshiva in Volozhin, Lithuania, was meant for gifted young men. They started on the first page of the Talmud and were expected to complete all 63 tractates by the time they left the Yeshiva. Although other Yeshivas did not aim for such a lofty goal, they nevertheless had rigorously high standards for their students. This was acceptable in Europe where the Yeshivas could only afford to take a small quantity of students and therefore only the very best pupils were considered. However, now that a Yeshiva education is basic to every religious child, there are countless students who just cannot make the grade and often fall out of Judaism entirely because the curriculum is too academic. Thankfully, new institutions have opened that cater for the less academically inclined students and occasionally offer training for a trade together with religious studies.

In this overlooked mitzvah, the Torah provides us with valuable information about the challenges of co-existence. We should not expect polar opposites to shine in the same scenario and we should not create a situation of animosity between co-workers. Rather, we must bring out the inherent strengths of every child, labourer and person by allowing them to use those strengths in a non-threatening way rather than matching them against people of far superior strength or intellect.

Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Liebenberg


#PJPOWER

#PJPOWER

As the well-known African proverb says ‘It takes a village to raise a child’ and what a powerful 'village' we have! We are overwhelmed by the community’s incredible response to our #PJPOWER fundraising campaign held from 4pm Tues 14th - 4pm Wed 15th of August.

In 24 hours, thanks to our very generous matchers and donors, Phyllis Jowell Jewish Day School successfully raised more than R2.52 million Rand! For more than a decade PJJDS has played a vital role in sustaining our Cape Town Jewish community and we are heartened by this wonderful show of support and positive investment in our school.


Thought of the Day

DON’T FLEE

War is a frightening matter.  And the closer the combat, the more frightening it is.  One can hardly compare the close-quarter trench warfare of World War I with the impersonal, remotely-controlled missiles that are sent from one country to another.  It is precisely because of the fear of war that the morale of soldiers is so important.  A battle can be lost before it even begins if one of the side is not mentally prepared for the engagement.  It is no wonder then that when the Torah speaks about war, that it mandates a ‘pep-talk’ to the troops who are massed at the front lines (Devarim 20:1-4):

“When you go out to the battle against your enemy, and you see horse and chariot – a people more numerous than you – you shall not fear them, for Hashem, your God is with you, who brought you up from the land of Egypt.  It shall be that when you draw near to the war, the Cohen shall approach and speak to the people.  He shall say to them, “Hear, O Israel, today you are coming near to battle against your enemies; let your heart not be faint; do not be afraid, do not panic, and do not be broken before them.  For Hashem, your God, is the One who goes with you, to fight for you with your enemies to save you.”

After the designated Cohen’s speech, officers would come forward to offer exemptions to certain categories of soldiers.  The passage then concludes (ibid verse 9): “When the officers have finished speaking to the people, the leaders of the legions shall take command at the head of the people.”  Rashi explains this as follows, “Wardens were appointed to stand at the front and the back of the ranks with iron rods in their hands.  If any man attempted to flee, they were permitted to strike him.  Moreover, these men were designated to assist the fallen and set them upright and to encourage them with words, saying, “Return to the battle and do not flee, for the beginning of defeat is fleeing.”  In fact, Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk (in Meshech Chochma 20:3) explains the phrase of the Cohen “do not be afraid” as a warning to the soldiers not to flee the front.  If not for this warning the wardens would not be allowed to strike them.  The morale of the troops, even that of the bravest men, can be completely broken when they see their fellow fighters fleeing in panic.

The author of Kli Yakar notes that several commentators interpret the passage of the battle homiletically as referring to the battle that every person has with his evil inclination.  This brings to mind the words of Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzato in his classic ethical work Messilat Yesharim (chapter 2): “This is precisely the device the evil inclination employs against people, for he is a master of war, trained in cunning, and it is only possible to escape him by acquiring great wisdom and foresight.”  It follows that the evil inclination will use the strategy of forcing his victims to flee the battlefield and will thereby win a decisive victory.  In that case “flight” is despair.  When someone despairs of improving himself and gives in to depression, the evil inclination has defeated him.  This is true of the myriad battles in the life of an individual Jew and in the life of a community.  It is worth noting that the sages often speak about Torah study as a “war” that must be waged in the battlefield of the House of Study.  Wrapping one’s mind around a difficult passage of the Talmud can be a frustrating exercise and very often a young scholar will close his book in despair.  It is precisely at moments such as these that one must not give in to despair, for the beginning of defeat is flight.

There have been so many difficult periods in Jewish history from Biblical times to the present day when the leadership of the Nation of Israel could easily have thrown in the towel.  The situation was bleak, even hopeless.  But it was precisely at such times that they refused to flee.

When the Roman emperor Hadrian forbade the study of Torah on pain of death, the very future of the Jewish people hung in the balance.  Who would be the next Torah leaders?  How would the youth learn about their religion?  Would the transmission of Torah come to an end?  Rabbi Akiva stepped forward and began teaching Torah in public.  He risked his life and paid the ultimate price when he was executed by the cruel Romans.  But his actions brought a sense of hope to his disciples who maintained his legacy and went on to renew their master’s work.

When the ashes of World War II settled and the true scale of the decimation of European Jewry became known, there were many great Torah leaders who counted themselves as part of the victims.  They lost everything – their families, their yeshiva, their students.  Was there any point in starting again?  A lifetime’s work was gone.  But these great men of spirit, among them Rabbi Yekusiel Halberstam, the Klausenberger Rebbe; Rabbis Eliyahu Meir Bloch and Mordechai Katz of Telz and Rabbi Kahanneman of Ponovez, picked themselves up and began afresh.  They rebuilt their institutions, their families and their disciples and so Torah flourished again.  It was a yeoman, almost super-human effort.  But they knew that if they gave in to despair, if they fled the battleground, the “average” troops would be completely demoralised and the war would be lost.

Today there is also a battle for the soul of the Jew.  The enemy is not a Ukrainian Cossack or an officer of the Inquisition.  The enemy is the appeal of the fleeting pleasures of the Western World.  For those of us at the front of the flanks, we dare not flee.  We dare not give in to despair even when we see mass assimilation.  Now is the time to pick ourselves up and lead the charge.

 

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Liebenberg

(Chairman of Phyllis Jowell School)