Bereshit 42:25,27,35 – The middle of the game between Yosef and his brothers: A double dose of fear

Bereshit 42:25 records that Yosef instructed his servant to secretly return to his brothers the silver (money) they had spent on buying the food. Why did Yosef do this? To be nice? 

Most likely, Yosef was trying to re-create the situation which he thought had occurred when he was sold as the brothers would now be returning home without one brother (Shimon) and with money. Note that Yosef also gave the brothers food for the trip, 42:25, maybe in order that they would not have to open their bags right away which meant that they would only find the silver when it was too late for them to return to Egypt.

Bereshit 42:27 then records that when the brothers stopped at some place on the road home, one brother found the silver that he had used to buy the food. When he told this to the other brothers, they were all scared, and they stated, “what has G-d done to us?" 42:28. The brothers then continued on their way home, and upon arrival they told Yaakov about Yosef’s accusations and that Shimon was being kept as a hostage, 42:29-34. They did not mention anything about the silver. Instead, they opened their sacks, found the silver and they and Yaakov were scared, 42:35. What does it mean that they found the silver in 42:35, as they already knew about the silver in 42:27? Why were they scared a second time?

The traditional answer (see Rashi, Ibn Ezra, Ramban, Radak on 42:27, Luzzatto on 42:35) is that initially only one brother found the silver and it was only when the brothers came home did all the other brothers find their silver. This approach is difficult for three reasons. One, 43:21 records that when the brothers returned to Egypt they returned the silver, and they told Yosef’s steward that they found the silver on their way home. Why should they have lied to the steward about where they found the silver? Two, it is more logical to assume that once one of the brothers found his silver, the other brothers would have searched their sacks as well. Three, this approach does not explain why the brothers did not mention to Yaakov that at least one of them had found the silver.

Sarna (1989, p. 296) suggests that the brothers “had prearranged to tell their father nothing of the money and to stage the discovery in his presence.” Similarly, Robert Altar (2004, p. 244) writes that maybe “the brothers deliberately acted out a discovery in the presence of their father in order to impress upon him how they were all at the mercy of a superior power.” With this idea, one of the brothers found the money in his amtahat, 42:27, and after he told the other brothers they also checked their packs and found the money in their respective amtahot, 43:21. The brothers then put the silver back in the bottom of the sacks with their food for the animals. Once they came home and reported to Yaakov what happened, they deliberately emptied their sacks in front of him to have Yaakov “find” the silver, 42:35.

A possible reason for this explanation is that this was the second time the brothers were returning home without a brother. On the first occasion, they returned home without Yosef, and now they returned home without Shimon. The brothers were very aware of this parallelism since when Yosef told them of his plan to hold one of them hostage, they immediately associated this with their actions with regard to Yosef, 42:19-22.  Hence maybe they thought that it was better for Yaakov to “find” the money instead of them showing him the money since this would increase the chance that he would believe this crazy story that they had been accused of spies and Shimon was being held hostage. Or, maybe the brothers staged the discovery of the money instead of showing the money to Yaakov to break the parallelism between this return home and their previous return home without Yosef. The idea being that they thought that if they showed Yaakov the silver it would appear that they had sold Shimon, and this might have led Yaakov to suppose that they had sold or caused Yosef to be sold.

These ideas can explain why the brothers did not inform Yaakov about the silver they had found, but there is a simpler explanation as to how the brothers found the silver twice and were scared twice. When they were home speaking to Yaakov, the Torah, 42:35, does not state that the brothers found their silver, but that they found their money bag or purse/ wallet. One can simply understand that 42:35 means that the brothers found an empty money bag, and then 42:27 and 42:35 refer to two separate findings, one the brothers found their silver, 42:27, and one the brothers found their empty money bags, 42:35.

This means that when Yosef ordered a person to return the brother's silver to them, 42:25, this was done in two different ways, the silver was placed in their amtahat and the money bag was placed in the sack. Yosef had only said to put the silver in the sack, but either the person on his own separated the silver from the money bags or maybe it was obvious that this is what Yosef wanted.

How would Yosef have attained the brother's money bags, as when people pay for items they give their money/ silver but not their purses? While it could be that they handed over their bags of silver when they paid for the grain, it could also be that Yosef got the bags when he had the brothers in jail, 42:17.

The double finding, first of the silver and then of the empty money bags increased the effect of Yosef scaring his brothers. Furthermore, it is possible that had the money bag not appeared, the brothers would never have told Yaakov about the silver, but once the money bag appeared, then they had to explain that their silver had mysteriously returned to them. Maybe, this is why the money bag was separated from the silver to increase the chance that Yaakov would find out about Yosef returning the silver.

After discussing this idea in my synagogue, Oded Walk noted to me that the following verse, 42:36, records that Yaakov bewailed, "Me you have bereaved, Yosef is no more, Shimon is no more and Binyamin you would take!" (Altar, 2004 translation, pp. 244, 245). Yet, all the facts about Shimon and Binyamin was known before the brothers found their money bags, and hence Yaakov should have made this statement before the finding of the money bags, i.e. after 42:34 and before 42:35. Thus, it is clear that it was the finding of the empty money bags that caused Yaakov to make his statement in 42:36. Oded suggested that maybe the money bags had some relation to the special coat that Yosef had, as somehow it brought back a memory of the brothers showing Yaakov the coat when they returned home without Yosef, 37:32. My wife, Yonina, suggested that this could have happened if there was a family mark or insignia on the money bags.

It is also possible that the fear that resulted from the finding of the empty money bags was not related to the sale of Yosef but to the present predicament of the brothers and Yaakov. My son in law, Yuri Lubomirsky, suggested that when they found the silver, they might have thought that it was a mistake but when they found their money bags, then it was obvious that the returning of the silver was not a mistake. My son, Binyamin, suggested that if Yosef really got the brother's money bags when the brothers were in prison, then the finding of the money bags meant that Yosef was behind the return of the silver.

Bibliography:

Alter, Robert, 2004, The five books of Moses: A translation and commentary, New York: W. W. Norton and Company.

Sarna, Nahum (1923-2005), 1989, The JPS Torah Commentary: Genesis, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society.

Bereshit 28:11- The wealth test (Va-yetse)

28:11 (also 28:18) records that one night when Yaakov was on his way to Haran he used a rock as a pillow.  This surely must have been uncomfortable, and this indicates that he did not have a pack with him with any clothing which could have been used as a pillow.  We know that Esav had at least two pairs of clothing (27:15), so presumably Yaakov also had at least two pairs of clothing. Why did Yaakov not use some of his clothing as a pillow?

During the night, Yaakov had an amazing dream, 28:12-15, and when he awoke in the morning, he made a vow. However, Yaakov made several conditions to the vow, one of which was that G-d would give him food and clothing, 28:20. This condition implies that Yaakov was lacking both items.

Later, when Yaakov was returning home he prayed to G-d before meeting Esav, and in the prayer he mentioned that when he left the land of Israel, all he had was his walking stick, 32:11.

These three verses (28:11, 28:20 and 32:11) indicate that Yaakov left home with nothing, and raises the question, why did his parents, Yitzhak and Rivka, not give Yaakov at least some clothing when he left to go to Haran?

One might answer that Yitzhak did not offer Yaakov any assistance since Yitzhak was angry at Yaakov for lying to him and tricking him (27:18-30). However, the Torah never informs us that Yitzhak desired to punish Yaakov for tricking him. When Yitzhak first realized that he had been tricked, he trembled that he had been fooled, but he still said that Yaakov was to be blessed, 27:33. A few seconds later, Yitzhak stated that Yaakov had tricked him, 27:35, but he made this statement matter-of-factly with no apparent anger. Afterwards, Yitzhak gave Yaakov another set of blessings, 28:3,4.

Rashi (on 29:11) quotes from Bereshit Rabbah (70:12) another answer. According to this approach, really Yitzhak and Rivka gave Yaakov lots of material assistance when he left home, but Elifaz the son of Esav was sent by Esav to kill Yaakov. When Elifaz caught up with Yaakov, Yaakov convinced him to rob him of everything (except his staff?) since a poor person can be considered as if he was dead. If this did happen, then it must have occurred almost immediately when Yaakov left home since it seems that Yaakov's dream was on the very first night that he left home.

Ibn Ezra (on 25:34) suggests a third answer that Yitzhak was generally poor even though he inherited great wealth from Avraham (25:5) and became wealthy from his planting (26:13). One of his proofs is the fact that Yaakov came penniless to Haran since he argues that surely Yitzhak or Rivka would have helped Yaakov out if they could have. However, were they so poor not to give Yaakov anything?

Ramban (on 25:34) strongly disagrees with Ibn Ezra, as nothing in the Torah indicates that Yitzhak lost his wealth. Ramban notes that G-d thrice blessed Yitzhak, 25:11; 26:3,24 and what kind of blessing could it have been if Yitzhak was to lose all his wealth? Instead, Ramban suggests a fourth answer that Yitzhak did not want to give Yaakov money when Yaakov went to Haran in order not to increase Esav’s hatred of Yaakov. Yet, Yitzhak had told Esav that Yaakov was to be blessed, 27:33, and had given Yaakov another set of blessing, 28:3,4, which Esav was aware of, 28:6. It is unlikely that letting Yaakov take some clothing would have enraged Esav even more.

My guess is that Yitzhak purposely sent out Yaakov with nothing and did not allow Rivka to supply Yaakov as a test whether Yaakov was truly to be the blessed son. After Yitzhak realized that Yaakov had tricked him, he stated that Yaakov was still to be blessed, 27:33, and he gave Yaakov another blessing, 28:3,4. However, after initially desiring to bless Esav, and then being lied to by Yaakov, Yitzhak must have wondered if Yaakov really deserved to be blessed. Yaakov’s leaving to go to Haran was an opportunity for Yitzhak to test whether Yaakov was truly to be the blessed son. The test was that Yitzhak sent Yaakov away with nothing to see if Yaakov could succeed and flourish completely on his own. It seems that G-d even responded to this test by making Yaakov fabulously successful, 30:43.

I discussed this idea in my synagogue, Yakir Efrayim in Modiin, and some people (including my son Binyamin) questioned me whether a father would really act in this way. One friend, Efrayim Chotam, even called this idea akedat Yaakov. Yet, Yitzhak had experienced the real akedah when G-d tested Avraham, 22:1, and also Yitzhak knew (saw?) that his father sent out his brother Yishmael, with almost nothing, 21:14. Thus, this idea of testing a son by sending him away with nothing would not have seemed foreign or bizarre to Yitzhak. (Later Yaakov would act similarly, also sending out his son, Yosef, 37:14, though in a different context, see our discussion on 37:2-14, "Parenting" https://lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2013/11/bereshit-372-14-va-yeshev-parenting.html)

Beating the willows

One of the stranger customs in Judaism is that on the seventh day of Sukkot, Hoshana Rabbah, we takes some aravot (willow branches) and beat them on the ground, havatat aravot. The Rambam (Laws of lulav 7:22) writes that a person is to take one or more branches and to hit them on the floor or on an item, two or three times without reciting a blessing. The Shulchan Arukh (664:4) follows this ruling, while the Mishnah Berurah (664:19) quotes the Ari that one should hit the branches five times on the floor. What is the point of this custom?

The Mishnah (Sukkah 4:5,6, Talmud Sukkah 45a) records the ceremony in the Bet ha-Mikdash of hoshannot, that people circled around the altar with aravot on each of the seven days of the holiday of Sukkot, but it does not mention beating the aravot. Instead, at the end of its discussion of the hoshannot ceremony, the Mishnah quotes Rebbi Yochanon ben Berokah that the seventh day of Sukkot was called the day of the beating of the palm branches since the people would beat palm branches on the ground by the side of the altar. Why all of a sudden is the Mishnah referring to palm branches in the middle of the ceremony of the aravot?

The Tosefta (Sukkah 3:1, also Talmud Sukkah 43b) records that when Hoshana Rabbah was on Shabbat there was an argument between the Rabbis and the Boethusians whether the aravot could be beaten, the Rabbis said yes while the Boethusians said no. This source indicates that really it was aravot that were beaten on the seventh day and not palm branches. (Maybe to cover up this argument the Mishnah switched the aravot to palm branches.) Note that because of this argument the calendar was fixed that Hoshana Rabbah could not come out on Shabbat, which suggests that the Rabbis agreed with the Boethusians that it was wrong to beat the aravot on Shabbat but that they allowed it due to the demand of the people. Yet, still what is the reason for beating the aravot in the Bet ha-Mikdash?

Bradley Shavit Artson (1996) reviews several reasons that have been suggested for beating the aravot. One reason he quotes from Abraham Milligram that is that beating was connected with rain bringing rituals. Artson rejects this reason since "there is nothing extant to indicate why the willow beating would symbolize rain." Instead, he suggests that the beating was to make the aravot pasul, no longer usable. A proof for this idea is that the following Mishnah (Sukkah 4:7) records that after the hoshannot ceremony, the children would separate the lulav from the other items and eat the etrogim. Yet, why only beat the aravot and not the hadasim or lulavim?

My guess is that the beating of the aravot is related to the prayers for rain during Sukkot and it must be connected with the hoshannot ceremony of circling the altar.  In our discussion, "Aravot in the Bet ha-Mikdash," (https://lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2017/09/aravot-in-bet-ha-mikdash.html) I suggested that the circling of the aravot was to make the Bet ha-Mikdash green. The idea was that by making the altar green, this was a prayer that there should be rain to make the land green. I suspect that the beating of the willows had the same purpose, to make the altar green, as the beating was a  way of painting the altar green. This was done on the last day of Sukkot to leave the altar green since the people would no longer be circling the altar with aravot. This explanation offers a reason why the Boethusians objected to this practice only on Shabbat since this beating was a form of painting the altar, and then they would argue that it was forbidden to paint on Shabbat.  Also, maybe the Mishnah switched the beating from aravot to palm branches since palm branches would not leave stains.

Aravot in the Bet ha-Mikdash

The Mishnah (Sukkah 4:1) lists seven different laws of Sukkot, one of whom is the law of aravot. The Mishnah (Sukkah 4:5) explains the law of aravot: In the time of the Bet ha-Mikdash the people would go to Motza to get aravot and then they would stand them by the side of the altar in order that the top of the aravot would be over the altar. Afterwards, the shofar would be blown, the people would circle the altar, and recite the phrase, anna hashem hoshiah na, anna hashem haslicha na, "G-d, save us, G-d, let us prosper." On the seventh day of Sukkot, the people circled seven times around the altar. The Mishnah did not discuss the reason for this ceremony.

The most likely explanation for the aravot ceremony is that it relates to prayers for rain since the Mishnah (Rosh Hashanah 1:2) records that Sukkot is the time of judgment for the water for the year. (This dating accords with the weather pattern in Israel that the rainy season begins in the fall after Sukkot.) Furthermore, in many societies, prayers for rain involved processions. (For one example, see The New York Times, July 6, 1908, "Italians pray for rain: Procession of 30,000 seeking to end disastrous drought in Apulia.) The increase in processions on the seventh day would then be because this was the final time to pray on Sukkot, and these processions on the seventh day were so important that they occurred even if the seventh day was on Shabbat (Mishnah Sukkah 4:6). Furthermore, the prayers "G-d, save us and G-d, let us prosper" can also relate to prayers of rain that the rain was needed for the people to live and to prosper. Finally, the blowing of the shofar in the ceremony of the aravot also connotes the idea of judgment.

Two questions remain. How did the placing of the aravot on the altar relate to prayers for rain? Also, on Sukkot there is the water libations ceremony which is also for rain (see Mishnah, Sukkah 4:9, and statement by R. Akiva in Talmud Rosh Hashanah 16a), why was there a need for two ceremonies (aravot and water libations) to pray for rain?

The answer is that the two ceremonies, aravot and water libations, worked together to form a joint symbolism. By the water libations, the altar was "being watered," and then by placing the aravot on the top of the altar, this made the altar green. Thus, at the end of the ceremony of the aravot the people would say how beautiful was the altar, end of Mishnah, Sukkah 4:5. In addition, if the people circled the altar holding aravot (the simple reading of the Mishnah Sukkah 4:5, but see Talmud, Sukkah 43b), then this also gave the entire area around the altar a green imagery. This symbolism of watering and greenery is the hoped for result from the prayers for rain, that there would be enough rain to make everything green that the crops would grow.

23:25,26 (Ki Teitzei) – Maximizing the use of ownerless land

Devarim 23:25,26 record that if a person passes through a vineyard or stalks of wheat, then the person is allowed to eat the grapes or wheat in the field but the person is not allowed to gather the grapes in a bucket or use a sickle to cut down the wheat.

The simple explanation of these verses is that any person can enter anybody's fields and eat their crops. This is the approach of Isi ben Yehuda (Baba Metsia 92a). However, as noted by Rav (on Baba Metsia 92a) this permission would ruin a farmer since he/ she would never get to harvest his/ her crops, and hence he/ she will not plant any crops. Thus, the Mishnah (Baba Metsia 7:2, Talmud Baba Metsia, 87a, 87b, and all the mishnayot Baba Metsia 7:2 through the beginning of 7:8) explains that this allowance to eat the crops only applies to a worker working in the field. Luzzatto (on 23:26) expands this allowance to include any person who is permitted to be in the field. While this approach limits the damage to the farmer from the law, it contradicts 23:25,26 since the verses imply that all people have the right to eat the crops.

How can people pass through somebody else's fields? Why is this "passing" not considered trespassing? The poor are allowed to come into fields only after the field has been harvested (Vayikra 19:9; 23:22, Devarim 24:19), while here all people are seemingly allowed carte blanche into other people's fields and can eat until they are satiated.

A different perspective is that instead of viewing the case as one where the passerby is entering the private property of the farmer, it is the farmer who is attempting to plant in ownerless land that is public property. With this understanding, the reference to reecha in 23:25,26, your neighbor, which seemingly indicates that the property in question is private property, should be interpreted to mean that only the vines or stalks of grains is the farmer's property but not the land the crops are situated on. A proof for this is that 23:26 does not use the word fields, as it refers just to the stalks of grains as being the farmer's since the land is not owned by the farmer. With regard to the word vineyard, kerem, in 23:25, the idea would be that kerem could also mean the vines and not necessarily the land on which the vines are situated. Other possible instances where the term kerem means vines are 24:21, Bemidbar 22:24 and Shemot 23:11.

The idea would then be that since the land is ownerless land, any person is allowed to walk in the fields and eat the crops of the field. However, how could a person be allowed to plant his private crops in the public domain?

I believe the laws of 23:25,26 are an attempt to maximize the use of ownerless land. If the ownerless land is land which people use, then it will not be worthwhile for the farmer to plant any crops since the public will either trample and/ or eat his/ her crops. The land will then remain only for the public use. However, some ownerless land is wasted that nobody uses the land either for productive purposes or to pass through. In this case, the most efficient allocation of the land would be to allow a farmer to use the land for planting. The farmer would calculate the number of people who would eat from the crops versus the gain from planting the field, and only use the field if it was worthwhile to develop the field. If the farmer gained from using the field after taking into account the number of people who would eat of the crops, then the field would be used productively, the quantity of food in the country would increase, and any person could eat of the crops.

Note 23:25,26 does not allow the passerby to use a bucket or a sickle to gather the crops since the goal is to balance the production of the farmer with the public needs. If a bucket or sickle is allowed, then one person can take all the crops of the field, which will cause the farmer to let the land lie fallow and the field will not be developed due to the efforts of one person. However, if many people use the land, and they eat a large percentage of the field without needing to use a bucket or a sickle, then the farmer will not plant the land since the benefit from the land to the public is greater than the benefit from growing crops on the land.

In addition, the permission for anybody to enter the fields insures that the farmer would not be able to claim the land as his private property. Furthermore, the permission is only given to plant fields on the ownerless land but not to build buildings.

This idea of balancing between the public and private interests is similar to the Coase theorem in economics, see Schein, A biblical precedent for the Coase theorem? Journal of Markets and Morality, 2004, 7:2, pp. 495-503..

Tisha B'av, the Holocaust and the founding of the State of Israel

I have heard many times that Tisha B’av is historically related to the tragedy of the Holocaust (in print see Rav Soloveitchik, 2006, p. 226, and Press, 1996, p.70). The claim is that World War I started on Tisha B’av in 1914, and World War II is a continuation of WWI. Almost certainly future generations will view the two world wars, which were so close in years and involved almost the exact same countries fighting each other, as one war, yet this connection is not just ex post. During the negotiations leading up to the Treaty of Versailles, which officially concluded WWI, John Maynard Keynes (1919), wrote a celebrated essay “The Economic Consequences of the Peace” where he predicted that the harsh terms of the treaty imposed on Germany in the Treaty of Versailles would lead to another war.

Accordingly, it is reasonable to see a connection between WWI and the Holocaust, but did WWI begin on Tisha B’av? This cannot be answered definitely since is not clear on which day the war began. Tisha B’av in 1914 was on August 1, which was the day when Germany declared war on Russia. Yet, one could argue for other dates for the beginning of WWI such as June 28 1914 when the Archduke Francis Ferdinand was assassinated, July 28th when Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, July 30th when Russia ordered a general mobilization or August 3 when Germany declared war on France and invaded Belgium. Thus, it seems that while WWI started around the time of Tisha B’av, one cannot categorically state that it started on Tisha B’av. However, even if there is no exact historical connection, as Tisha B’av is a day of national mourning it still is appropriate to remember the Holocaust on Tisha B’av.

One of the themes of Tisha B’av is that while we have suffered on this day, the day will eventually be a festival since it will be related to the future redemption. If the present state of Israel is the beginning of the redemption (and we should remember the failure of Bar Kokhba) and one has accepted the argument above that WWI is connected with Tisha B’av, then maybe one can claim that the same Tisha B’av of 1914 relates to the future redemption. I have heard it argued that the “world” allowed Israel to exist because of its guilt for the Holocaust. I have never liked this argument, as for example Great Britain showed no evidence of any guilt about the Holocaust when it acted with tremendous cruelty in not allowing Jews to come to Israel after WWII. Yet, one could make the simpler argument that WWI itself led to the founding of the state of Israel.

In 1917, near the end of WWI, after Great Britain had captured the southern part of the land of Israel, it announced the Balfour Declaration, which committed Great Britain to support "the establishment of a national home for the Jewish people" in the land of Israel. In 1918, Great Britain conquered the remainder of the land of Israel from Turkey and ruled the land, as a British mandate, until May 1948. Initially Great Britain was very supportive of Jews coming to Israel, and throughout the entire period it helped foster the development of the economy in the land. Under the British mandate the Jewish population in Israel rose from around 56,000 people in 1918 to 650,000 in 1948. It is hard to imagine that such a growth in population would have occurred had the land of Israel remained under Turkish rule. Furthermore, throughout almost the entire Mandate period, including the years of the Great Depression and WWII, the economy boomed in the land of Israel, as the area had the second highest growth rate in the world from 1922-1947, and this economic growth was one of the factors (the main one?) that enabled the Jewish population to achieve independence in 1948. (For more information on the excellent economic growth in the land of Israel under the British, see Schein 2007, 2012 and 2016.)

Bemidbar 24:1 (Balak) – A duh

Bemidbar 24:1 records that Bil'am realized that G-d wanted him to bless the Jewish people and not curse them. This is quite amazing that only now this understanding dawned on Bil'am. He had experienced a talking donkey, 22:28,30, a vision of a malakh, 22:31-25, and G-d had him state two blessings to the Jewish people, 23:5,16, but only now he realized that G-d did not want the Jewish people to be cursed! (Note, I do not refer to the conversations recorded in 22:12,20 since I think Bil'am made up these conversations, see our discussion above on 22:8-35, "The wizard of Petor." https://lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2009/07/bemidbar-228-35-balak-wizard-of-petor.html)

What made Bil'am suddenly understand in 24:1 that G-d wanted the Jewish people to be blessed? Milgrom (1990, p. 201) writes that Bil'am learned this from his second blessing, 23:23. This cannot be since even after the second blessing Balak took Bil'am to a third place to curse the people, and Bil'am instructed Balak to offer sacrifices as part of his and Balak's efforts to curse the Jewish people, 23:27-30. Instead, it must be something about the place that Balak took Bil'am to offer the sacrifices and curse the Jewish people, 23:28, or the sacrifices themselves that made Bil'am wake up, 23:29,30.

One possibility is that coincidently the place where Balak took Bil'am to curse the Jewish people was exactly the place where the Jewish people had camped prior to their battle with Sihon, 23:28 and 21:20. Thus, maybe at this place Bil'am saw some evidence of the Jewish people's great victory over Sihon and from this he understood that G-d wanted the Jewish people to be blessed. (This seeing could then correspond to Balak's seeing in 22:2.) Or, maybe Bil'am saw some remnants of the camping of the Jewish people that led him to realize that the people were to be blessed.

A different idea is that it was the third set of sacrifices that made Bil'am wake up since it reminded him of his incident with the donkey. Bil'am had struck the donkey three times to get the donkey to go where he wanted, and the donkey and the malakh had questioned Bil'am why he hit the donkey three times, 22:23-33. The sacrifices prior to each attempted blessing (altogether three sets: 23;1-4,14,29,30) were similar to the hitting of the donkey since in both cases Bil'am was trying to force something to happen, either to get the donkey to walk in a certain way or to curse the Jewish people. Thus, maybe as the third set of sacrifices were being offered, Bil'am realized that just as he was wrong to hit the donkey three times since there was a reason the donkey was not going in the correct direction, so too it was wrong both to offer sacrifices to try to curse the Jewish people and to curse the Jewish people. This possibility is supported by the fact that this realization by Bil'am is recorded immediately after the sacrifices were offered, i.e., 24:1 (the realization) is the next verse after 23:30 (the description of the sacrifices being offered).

Bemidbar 5:24-28 – Powerful water by the sotah process

Bemidbar 5:24 records that the woman who is suspected of marital infidelity, sotah, drinks water that is mixed with dirt and ink(?). The priest then takes the minhah sacrifices, waves it (?), and places a handful of the grains from the minhah sacrifice on the altar to be burnt, 5:25,26. The end of 5:26 and the beginning of 5:27 then repeat that the woman drinks this concoction of water. 

The Mishnah (Sotah 3:2) quotes an argument as to when the woman drinks, before or after the offering of the sacrifice, but both opinions agree that she only drinks once. Tikva Frymer-Kensky (1984, see also Milgrom, 1990, p. 351) agrees as she argues that the apparent repetition is a literary technique of repetitive resumption. Nevertheless, my understanding is that the woman drank the water twice (5:24 and 5:26) or even three times if the beginning of 5:27 is not referring to the same drinking as in the end of 5:26.

This effect of the woman drinking the water was quite powerful since the water could either cause marks on the woman, 5:21, which would indicate her guilt, or increase her fertility, 5:27,28.  This effect of the water is clearly miraculous, and hence the sotah ordeal is unique in that it relies on miracles to be effective.  It is true that a miracle is needed to find the woman guilty, but still why in this case does G-d provide a miracle as part of the judicial process?

The Talmud (Baba Metsia 59b) records the argument between R. Eliezer ben Hyracanus and R. Yehoshua ben Hananiah concerning the oven of Akhnai, where R. Eliezer invoked numerous miracles to prove his point, but R. Yehoshua rejected them since he argued that miracles cannot determine the law. The case of the sotah seems to support R. Eliezer, but I believe that R. Yehoshua's opinion has become the accepted opinion (excluding Kabbalists?). Furthermore, even if R. Eliezer is correct, is G-d is promising to provide this miracle for all time?

If the reason for the sotah ordeal is to reduce the incidents of adultery, then it could be that G-d provides a miracle because G-d is just providing "facts" and not determining the law, and in this case, these facts are needed since on many occasions a human legal system cannot determine if the woman committed adultery. Yet, by murder, there are also many times that we cannot find the murderer, and G-d does not provide a miracle to find the guilty person. For instance, a suspected murderer could also be forced to drink the water to determine his or her guilt.

One might argue that adultery is a "worse" sin than murder since it is also a sin against G-d (see Bereshit 20:6) and not just against man, and hence G-d intervenes to stop the sin. Yet there are other sins against G-d such as idolatry where we do not have an ordeal that depends on a miracle to determine the guilt of a person. It is true that by the sin of the golden calf there was a similar ordeal as the people had to drink the water with the ashes of the golden calf, but that was a onetime event (see our discussion on Shemot 32:20-28, "Spiked water"). However, one could argue that adultery is worse than other sins since the children of adulterous unions are mamzerim, and they suffer due to the sins of their parents.

Emanuel Rackman (1988) argues that there is a view in Chazal that believed that the sotah ordeal was a “sophisticated psychological test” designed to extract a confession or if the woman did not confess to demonstrate her innocence, which would either create domestic harmony and/ or stop the jealous husband from killing or striking his wife. It is clear that Chazal viewed this ordeal from a psychological perspective, as the Mishnah (Sotah 1:4, see also Rambam, Moreh, 3:49) quotes that several attempts were to be made to have the woman confess and stop the process. However, Rackman goes further than this viewpoint to claim that the water never had any effect, as the whole process was a "bluff" to get the woman to confess or to convince the husband that his wife was innocent. With this idea, G-d does not intervene at all in the sotah procedure.

One of Rackman's arguments is that the oath seems to be irrelevant since the ordeal could go on even without the oath, and hence the oath is just there for the psychological element. Yet, while it is true that the oath adds a psychological element that does not mean that the ceremony is a "bluff." Also, while Chazal stress the idea of getting the woman to admit, this possibility is never mentioned in the Torah. Furthermore, one can understand the oath as being a type of information and the woman's amen to be showing her consent/ and or understanding. (I thank my daughter Talia for the last point.)

Another proof for Rackman's argument, which he does not mention, is that the Mishnah (Sotah 9:9, see also Tosefta Sotah 14:2) records that the sotah ordeal was stopped since there were too many adulterers. This is difficult. Why should Chazal annul a law from the Torah? Furthermore, if there was a period of many people committing adultery, then this should have been all the more reason to have the ordeal to stop people from committing adultery.

The standard explanation of the Mishnah (see Talmud Sotah 47b) is that since the husbands were also guilty of adultery, then the waters would not check the women. (The Ramban, on Bemidbar 5:20, offers a slightly different idea, that the people would not appreciate the miracle.) 

I cannot believe that there were no husbands who were faithful and then the waters would have worked. Rackman's explanation accords better with the Mishnah. If there were many people committing adultery, and the test was done many times, then people would realize that it was a bluff since nothing happened to the women according to Rackman.

Rackman's idea is very interesting, but I find it hard to accept that G-d was intentionally fooling everybody, by saying that He would do a miracle, but that G-d had no intention of doing the miracle. The Torah records that the bitter waters would punish the woman if she was guilty, but this is a false statement according to Rackman.

I think the Ramban's (on Bemidbar 5:20) argument that G-d would only do this miracle when the people were worthy of the miracle is correct. Thus, when the law was first given (in the beginning of the people's second year in the desert?), G-d was willing to do this miracle on a regular basis for the people. This would be to limit the incidents of adultery with the subsequent mamzerim and to protect a wife from a jealous husband. However, once the people were no longer worthy of this miracle, then G-d would stop performing this miracle.

When were the people no longer worthy of this miracle of the waters of the sotah? Was it sometime in the distant future when there were many adulators in the population as the Ramban maintains? My guess is that when the people sinned by refusing to go into the land of Israel after the spies came back with their report, then they were no longer worthy of the miracle. The people were all supposed to die, 14:12, and while G-d agreed that the people could live, there is no reason to believe that G-d would continue to do extra miracles for them. This sin by the spies occurred a short time after the law of sotah was promulgated. Thus, when the sotah law was instituted G-d was willing to intervene with regular miracles by the sotah process, like by other miracles in the desert (the mahn), but this intervention ended after a short period of time. The sotah ordeal continued, but only as argued by Rackman, as either a threat to have the woman confess or to calm the husband. However, once there were too many adulterers, then even on the psychological level, the process was ineffective and was ended. Chazal could stop this law since really G-d had already stopped it after the sin by the spies, and hence they were only annulling a "rabbinic law."

Bibliography:

Frymer-Kensky, Tikva, 1984, The strange case of the suspected sotah (Numbers V 11-31)” Vetus Testamentum, 34:1, pp.11-26.

Milgrom, Jacob, 1990, The JPS Torah Commentary: Numbers, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society.

Rackman, Emanuel, 1988, The Case of the Sotah in Jewish Law: Ordeal or Psychodrama, National Jewish Law Review, Vol. 3, pp. 49-64.

Customs of mourning during sefirat ha-omer

The period of sefirat ha-omer (between Pesach and Shavuot) is considered a period of mourning, but there is great confusion as to what are the periods of mourning and why there is mourning at all.

In the Torah, the Mishnah, the Talmud and the Rambam there is no mention of any type of mourning in reference to the period of sefirat ha-omer. The Talmud (Yevamot 62b) records that 12,000 pairs of students of Rabbi Akiva died between Pesach and Shavuot, but the Talmud does not mention that any mourning was instituted in this period for these scholars who died.

The first reference to mourning in this period is from the Geonim. Otzar ha-Geonim (7:141, on Yevamot 62b) quotes Rav Natronai Gaon, (9th century) and R. Hai Gaon (939-1038) that one does not marry during the entire period from Pesach to Shavuot, though one can become engaged in this period. Similarly, the Otzar Ha-Geonim (also quoted in Tur, Orah Chayyim 493) quotes R. Yitzhak ibn Giat (Spain, 1020-1089) who also mentions the custom of not marrying the entire period of sefirat ha-omer. The reason recorded for this custom is the deaths of R. Akiva's students, but Trachtenberg (2004, p. 255) notes "that according to some, the Roman superstition which forbade marriages in May" was the source of this custom not to marry. In addition, Rav Hai Gaon refers to a custom not to work at night from Pesach to Shavuot, also due to the deaths of R. Akiva's students. As noted by Sperber (1990, p.102), in all of the Geonic literature, the mourning in the period of sefirat ha-omer was for the entire period, and it consisted just of not getting married and not working at night.

This custom from the Geonim, was not mentioned by the Rambam, why not? It is difficult to believe that the Rambam was unaware of this custom of not getting married, which suggests that the Rambam rejected the custom, but why? Did the Rambam think that the deaths of R. Akiva's students were not "sufficient" to justify people not getting married during sefirat ha-omer? Or, did he think that the source of the custom not to get married was based on the Roman superstition and hence he left it out?

In the same period of the Rambam, R. Avraham Hayarchi (1155, Provence, to 1215 Toledo, Spain) writes in the Sefer ha-Manhig (quoted in Abudarham, 1995, pp. 271,272, and by Zevin, 1956, p. 299) that in some places (Provence?) the custom was to marry from Lag Ba-omer onwards. This change was based on a claim that in a text in Spain it was recorded that R. Akiva's students died until "peros" Shavuot. R. Hayarchi writes that peros means half, and as the word half appears with regard to the law of learning the laws of Pesach 30 days before Pesach, then peros means half of 30 or 15. Thus, he writes that the mourning stopped 15 days prior to Shavuot, namely on Lag Ba-omer, the 33rd day of sefirat ha-omer, and the 18th of Iyar. Similarly, in the 13th century, the Meiri (1249-1306, commentary on Yevamot 62a) who was also from Provence, writes that the custom was not to marry just from Pesach to Lag Ba-omer. According to these sources, there is still no mention of not cutting one's hair during sefirat ha-omer. In addition, with this development of the holiday of Lag Ba-omer, the custom of mourning was shortened, and became a major factor for why there are some many customs since it was not obvious how to integrate Lag Ba-omer and the shortened period of mourning into the forty nine day period of sefirat ha-omer. For a discussion of the development of the holiday of Lag Ba-omer and the drasha of peros see our discussion above on Lag Ba-omer, "You do the math," https://lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2009/05/lag-ba-omer.html

Also in the 13th century, the Shibolei Haleket (Italy, 1230-1300, quoted in Sperber, 1990, p. 109) writes that people do not get married during the entire period from Pesach to Shavuot, but in some places people would get married until Rosh Chodesh Iyar. Sperber suggests that the basis for this custom was that that the first Crusaders in 1096 began massacring Ashkenazi Jewry in Iyar, and hence Ashkenazi Jewry started mourning only in Iyar. According to the kinah, mi yiten mayim by R. Kalonymos ben Yehuda (12th century, Germany) that we recite on Tisha B'av, on the 8th of Iyar the Jews of Speyer were killed, on the 23rd of Iyar and on the 1st day of Sivan, the Jews of Worms were killed and on the 3rd day of Sivan, the Jews of Mainz were killed. A different possibility unrelated to the suffering due to the Crusades is that this custom of having marriages until Rosh Chodesh Iyar was a way of reducing the period of no marriages, just like the idea of allowing people to marry on and after Lag Ba-omer, again see our discussion on Lag Ba-omer, "You do the math."

The book, Sefer Minhag Tov (anonymous, apparently from Italy, end of the 13th century) quotes customs from France and Germany, and the author mentions new customs of mourning for the period. He writes (61, in Sperber, 1990, p. 107) that it is a good custom not to cut one's hair and nails, not to wear new clothing, and not to enjoy bathing from Pesach to Shavuot excluding Lag Ba-omer. Furthermore, he writes that these customs are because of the righteous who died in this period, which Sperber explains refers to the German Jews who were massacred by the Crusaders. We see that the custom of not cutting your hair during sefirat ha-omer is both a later development and not related to the custom of not getting married during this same period. Presumably it developed from the idea of not cutting one's hair by the mourning for the destruction of the Bet ha-Mikdash since the mourning for the massacres of the communities in Germany by the Crusaders was made equivalent in some ways to the mourning for the destruction of the Bet ha-Mikdash (see the kinot we recite on Tisha B'av).

The Tur (1275, Germany to 1340, Spain, Orah Chayyim 493) writes that in all places people do not marry from Pesach to Shavuot, which follows the custom from the Geonim. He also writes that some people do not cut their hair for the entire period and some people cut their hair after Lag Ba-omer. This implies that he knew of three customs with regard to cutting one's hair, see the Bach's comments on the Tur. One, some people cut their hair during the entire period of sefirat ha-omer, two, some people refrained from cutting their hair for the entire period, and three, some people did not cut their hair from Pesach to Lag Ba-omer. The Tur did not specify which places followed which custom. However, following Sperber's argument that the custom of not cutting one's hair was due to the massacres by the Crusaders, then it is likely that in Germany more people kept the custom of not cutting their hair in the entire period, as recorded by the Sefer Minhag Tov, while in Spain more people either cut their hair or just refrained from cutting their hair until Lag Ba-omer.

The Tur also refers to the custom from the Geonim of not working at night during the period from Pesach to Shavuot, but he writes that only women had this custom to not work after sunset. The Shulchan Arukh (493:4) quotes this custom, again just with regard to women. The Taz (Poland, 1586-1667, 493:3) limits it even more, as he writes that after one counts the omer, then one can work. The Arukh Hashulchan (Russia, 1829-1908, 493:9, also Chayyei Adam 131:11) writes that in his time some women kept this custom of not working until after maariv, but I am unaware of women who keep this custom today.

At around the same time as the Tur, R. Yehoshua ibn Shuiv (Spain, 14th century, quoted in Bet Yosef, 493 and Sperber, 1990, p. 104) writes that on the 34th day of the omer, people would shave apparently after not having shaven since Pesach. He might be the first person to mention not shaving during this period.

Abudarham (Abudirham?, Seville, early 14th century, laws between Pesach and Shavuot, 1985 version, p. 271) quotes two customs. One, to not get married and to not have a haircut the entire sefirat ha-omer (one possibility in the Tur), and two, to not marry and not cut one's hair from Pesach until (not including) Lag Ba-omer.

The Maharil (Germany, 1365-1437, Sefer Maharil, 1989, pp.154,157, quoted in Darkei Moshe 493:3 and Sperber, 1990, p. 110, footnote 37) writes that the custom in all places (Germany?) was not to marry for the entire period between Pesach and Shavuot and this apparently included Lag Ba-omer. With regard to hair cutting, he personally also did not shave for the entire period. However, he told his students that they could shave on and after Lag Ba-omer, and that he also accepted that some people shaved until Rosh Chodesh Iyar. It is not clear to me, whether he shaved on Lag Ba-omer or not. He writes that one cannot shave on erev Shabbat when Lag Ba-omer is on Sunday, which implies that one can shave on Lag Ba-omer itself, though maybe this was only according to his instructions to his students whom he told that they could shave on Lag Ba-omer.

Rav Yosef Caro (1488, Spain - 1575, Israel, Bet Yosef and Shulchan Arukh, 493) quotes that the custom is to equate the mourning of not getting married with the custom of not cutting one's hair, and that both are not done from Pesach through (including) Lag Ba-omer. In the Shulchan Arukh, he writes explicitly that haircuts are only permitted on the 34th day of the omer (the day after Lag Ba-omer), as stated by R. Yehoshua ibn Shuiv, and this apparently is also his view in reference to getting married. It seems that for R. Yosef Caro, Lag Ba-omer was not a special day.

Yaakov Gliss (1994, p.140) writes that the custom in Israel was to keep the mourning from Pesach until Lag Ba-omer, but starting from Lag Ba-omer people would marry and cut their hair. This differs from the Shulchan Arukh since according to the Shulchan Arukh it is only from the 34th day of the omer that it is permitted to cut one's hair and to marry. R. Chayyim David HaLevi (Mekor Chayyim 195:18-20) writes that the custom of Sefardim today with regard to getting married is not to marry from Pesach until Lag Ba-omer, while from Lag Ba-omer onwards it is permitted to marry. With regard to hair cutting, R. Chayyim David HaLevi first writes that the custom of Sefardim is not to cut one's hair until the 34th day of the omer like the Shulchan Arukh, but then he writes that some people cut their hair on Lag Ba-omer, the 33rd day of the omer.

The opinion of the Rama (Poland, d. 1572) is not clear. First, with regard to the Shulchan Arukh's comment about not getting married until the 34th day of the omer, he writes (493:1) that it is permitted to marry from Lag Ba-omer onwards. Afterwards, in reference to the Shulchan Arukh's comment that one cannot cut their hair until the 34th day of the omer, he writes (493:2) that this too is permitted on the day of Lag Ba-omer, though not the night of Lag Ba-omer. He also writes that if Lag Ba-omer is on Sunday, then one can cut their hair on erev Shabbat, the 31st day of the omer because of kavod Shabbat. Afterwards, he writes (493:3), that the custom in most places (in the Darkei Moshe, a few places?) was that one would not cut one's hair from after Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuot excluding Lag Ba-omer (and Rosh Chodesh Sivan, see Darkei Moshe). This period of mourning corresponds to the attacks by the Crusaders on the Jewish communities in Germany in 1096. In this third comment, he only refers to not cutting one's hair, but does he also mean not to get married in this period? The question is does his first comment (493:1) about getting married from Lag Ba-omer onwards apply only for people who also do not cut their hair from Pesach to Lag Ba-omer or was the Rama stating that with regard to not getting married the period is from Pesach until Lag Ba-omer, but with regard to not cutting one's hair the period starts from Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuot excluding Lag Ba-omer (and maybe Rosh Chodesh Sivan). Accordingly it not clear if the Rama himself thought that the two prohibitions of not getting married and not cutting one's hair were for the same time periods.

The Bach (1561-1640, Poland, 493), agrees with Rav Yosef Caro that the customs with regard to not getting married and not cutting one's hair are for the same time periods, and he writes that in his time, there were two customs amongst Ashkenazim. One custom was to mourn until (not including) Lag Ba-omer, while the second custom was to start the mourning the day after Rosh Chodesh Iyar and continue until Shavuot, just excluding Lag Ba-omer. He writes that according to the second custom one should not cut one's hair on Rosh Chodesh Sivan.

The Taz (1586-1667, the Bach's son-in-law, 493:2) explicitly writes that there was a difference between the customs of not getting married and of not cutting one’s hair. He writes that the custom in all places (amongst Ashkenazim? Poland?) was not to get married throughout the entire period from Pesach to Shavuot except for Lag Ba-omer. With regard to not cutting the hair, the Taz writes that this prohibition was only until Lag Ba-omer. He explains that the mourning until Lag Ba-omer is due to the deaths of the students of R. Akiva, while afterwards the mourning is due to the suffering during the Crusades. In addition, he suggests that the mourning due to the suffering during the Crusades was only to curtail great happiness like a wedding, but would not prohibit hair cutting. This is a difficult explanation since the custom not to marry for the entire period is from the time of the Geonim who lived before the time of the Crusades. In any event, the custom as stated by the Taz was soon changed by the Magen Avraham.

The Magen Avraham (Poland, 1637-1683, 493:2,5) also equates the times for the two types of mourning, but he changed the Bach's second custom since he allows people to marry in the three day period before Shavuot (the 3rd-5th days of Sivan). He records that the mourning should begin on the first day of Rosh Chodesh Iyar (the 30th day in Nisan) and include Rosh Chodesh Sivan, which gives 33 days (1 in Nissan, 29 in Iyar including the little bit on Lag Ba-omer and three in Sivan including a little bit on the 3rd day of Sivan). This dating started the mourning two earlier than by the Bach in order that it would end two days earlier, on the third of Sivan instead of the fifth of Sivan. One problem with this dating is that this custom is invoking the principle that if one mourns a little it is like a full day twice, once by Lag Ba-omer and once on the third day of Sivan.

The Magen Avraham (see also Biur Halacha 493: Yesh nohagim) also quotes an idea to mourn the entire period except for Pesach, Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh Iyar, Rosh Chodesh Sivan and Lag Ba-omer. This idea is based on the explanation of the Maharil that the students of Rabbi Akiva did not die on the days when tachanun is recited. This explanation was theoretical for the Maharil to justify the holiday of Lag Ba-omer, but was not the custom of the Maharil. The Magen Avraham notes that as the Rama did not quote this custom it seems that he rejected it. It is unclear to me if this custom was ever followed.

The Chayyei Adam (1748-1820, Vilna, 131:11) wrote that the custom in Vilna was to follow the custom recorded by the Magen Avraham to start the mourning on the first day of Rosh Chodesh Iyar until the third day of Sivan (a little bit on the third day) and during this period one did not marry or cut their hair. He does not state that one has to mourn a little bit on Lag Ba-omer, which might imply that people cut their hair at night on Lag Ba-omer.

The Mishnah Berurah (1907, Poland, 493:14,15) and Arukh Hashulchan (1829-1908, 493:6) both write that their custom was like the Magen Avraham. The Mishnah Berurah also quotes (end of 493:15) a custom to mourn the entire period except for Rosh Chodesh Iyar, Lag Ba-omer, and all the days of Sivan.

I have been told that the Magen Avraham's dates for the mourning was the dominant Ashkenazi Eastern European custom prior to WWII. Nowadays, this custom appears to have lost its popularity since most people, especially in Israel, follow the custom of mourning from Pesach until Lag Ba-omer, with Sefardim waiting to cut their hair until the 34th (except by the chalakah?) and Ashkenazim cutting their hair on Lag Ba-omer itself. However, I have been told (in April 2014) that Jews in Switzerland and South Africa still follow this custom.

After the founding of the state of Israel, a new variation developed that Yom Ha-atzmaut became a break in the period of mourning. Thus, in Israel, where almost everybody follows the period of mourning as being from Pesach to Lag Ba-omer, many of the people who are Zionists shave (cut their hair? get married on Yom Ha-atzmaut?). After 1967, Yom Yerushalayim (the 28th of Iyar) also became a break for some people, though this was only relevant if a person kept the mourning until the third day of Sivan.

Finally, as I discuss below, "The law/ custom of not cutting one's hair in the nine days and three weeks," https://lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2009/07/cutting-ones-hair-in-three-weeks-and.html, I strongly believe that a person who shaves throughout the year for Shabbat, has to shave for Shabbat during the sefirat ha-omer period. To summarize the discussion there, I believe that the idea that one should not cut their hair/ shave for Shabbat during the mourning periods of the three weeks and sefirat ha-omer is from the Karaites who had no concern for kavod/ oneg Shabbat, and really the rule of the Mishnah, the Rambam, Tosafot and others is that Shabbat takes precedence over the mourning of the Bet ha-Mikdash and certainly Shabbat takes precedence over the mourning for the students of Rabbi Akiva and the suffering during the period of the Crusades. If a person normally shaves for Shabbat, and does not do so during the sefirah period (and the three weeks), then he is making the mourning more important than Shabbat and this is wrong.

To summarize all the different periods of mourning, if we exclude the Rambam's opinion of no mourning and the custom not to work at night, we see that there were at least sixteen different customs from the time of the Geonim until today with regard to getting married and cutting one's hair during sefirat ha-omer.

One, from the Geonim, the custom was not to get married throughout the entire period from Pesach to Shavuot but there was no prohibition of cutting one's hair.

Two, from Sefer ha-Manhig (12th century), the custom was not to marry until Lag Ba-omer, and there was no prohibition of cutting one's hair.

Three, mentioned by the Shibolei Haleket (13th century) was not to marry from Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuot, but there was no prohibition of cutting one's hair. This does not appear to have been a wide spread custom, but it might have influenced the later Ashkenazi practice.

Four, one custom quoted by the Tur and Abudarham (both early 14th century) was not to marry or to cut one's hair for the entire period of sefirat ha-omer. This custom did not allow any exception even for Lag Ba-omer. It seems the Maharil followed this custom, though he might have cut his hair/ shaved on Lag Ba-omer.

Five, also in the Tur, was the custom not to marry the entire period, but to cut one's hair on and after Lag Ba-omer. This custom accords with the Maharil's instruction to his students.

Six, a second custom in the Abudarham, was to not get married or to cut one's hair from Pesach until Lag Ba-omer, but from Lag Ba-omer onwards, both are permitted. I think this is the dominant custom today.

Seven, mentioned by the Maharil (15th century), was the custom not to get married the entire period of sefirat ha-omer and not to cut one's hair from Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuot.

Eight, the Shulchan Arukh (16th century) writes that one does not get married or cut one's hair until the 34th day of the omer. This custom ignores Lag Ba-omer.

Nine, the Shulchan Arukh's practice is varied slightly by some (many?) Sefardim today. They wait until the 34th day of the omer to cut their hair, but will get married on the 33rd day (Mekor Chayyim).

Ten, one way of understanding the Rama (combining 493:1,2,3) is that the custom is not to marry from Pesach until Lag Ba-omer, but to start the prohibition of not getting a hair cut from the day after Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuot, excluding the daytime of Lag Ba-omer (and the 31st day of the omer if Lag Ba-omer is on Sunday and maybe also Rosh Chodesh Sivan). I am not sure if this is the correct way to understand the Rama and whether this possibility was ever followed.

Eleven, from the Bach (end of 16th century, beginning of 17th century) was the custom not to marry or cut one's hair from after Rosh Chodesh Iyar until Shavuot excluding Lag Ba-omer but including Rosh Chodesh Sivan.

Twelve, quoted by the Taz (middle 17th century) was the custom not to marry the entire period of sefirat ha-omer except for Lag Ba-omer, and not to cut one's hair until Lag Ba-omer. This custom is the same as number five, except that with this custom one could marry on Lag Ba-omer, while according to custom five one did not get married on Lag Ba-omer.

Thirteen, from the Magen Avraham (middle to late 17th century) was the custom that one does not marry or cut one's hair starting from the first day of Rosh Chodesh Iyar until the morning of the third day of Sivan, excluding Lag Ba-omer. The Magen Avraham writes that even by Lag Ba-omer there is some mourning at night, but it seems from the Chayyei Adam that the adherents to this custom did not mourn at all on Lag Ba-omer. I believe that this was the main Ashkenazi custom in Europe before the holocaust.

Fourteen, also mentioned by Magen Avraham, was the custom not to get married or to cut one's hair on all the days of sefirat ha-omer except for Pesach, Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh Iyar, Rosh Chodesh Sivan, and Lag Ba-omer (excluding a little bit).

Fifteen, mentioned by the Mishnah Berurah, though he seems to have followed possibility thirteen, is not get married or cut one's hair for the entire omer period until Rosh Chodesh Sivan, excluding Rosh Chodesh Iyar, and Lag Ba-omer. This is a slight variation (adding days 2-5 of Sivan) from possibility fourteen.

Sixteen, in Israel today (2017) amongst the dati leumi community, the mourning is from Pesach up to Lag Ba-omer, but on Yom Ha-atzmaut people attend festive celebrations, and shave. Also many people in this group shave on erev Yom Ha-atzmaut to look "clean" at the start of Yom Ha-atzmaut.

From this review, we see that the two main customs of the period of sefirat ha-omer, not to marry and not to cut one's hair, are independent of each other even though today both are observed for the same period of time. The custom not to marry might have been due to the death of the students of R. Akiva, while the custom not to cut one's hair was due to the deaths of the Jews in Germany in 1096 during the first Crusades. Also the advent of the holiday of Lag Ba-omer in the Middle Ages reduced the period of mourning from the entire period from Pesach to Shavuot to being around 33 days, and has led to many variations as to how to make this reduction.

Commentary on the Haggadah 2017

Hello,

The 2017 version of my commentary on the Haggadah (62 pages) is now available. It has some additions/ corrections/ revisions from the previous versions. If you are interested in receiving the commentary, please send me an email, ajayschein@gmail.com, and I will send you the file. I wish everybody a chag kasher ve-samaech.

Andrew Schein

Vayikra 1:9 – How can one understand sacrifices in the Torah?

Vayikra 1:9 records that an olah sacrifice has a pleasing smell, re-ach nichoach,  to G-d. This phrase occurs repeatedly in the Torah in reference to sacrifices. As noted by the Ibn Ezra (on Bereshit 8:21), this phrase does not mean that G-d actually smells the sacrifices, but rather it is a figurative expression that G-d approved or is happy with the sacrifice. This positive view of sacrifices is very difficult for modern sensibilities, even for those of us who are not vegetarians. Even though we kill animals to eat them, which means that for us non-vegetarians we see nothing immoral in killing animals, still why would G-d want people to kill animals as part of their worship of Him? What is the reason for sacrifices and does the Torah view them positively?

Menachem Kasher (1992, Torah Shelemah, additions to parashat Vayikra) quotes the Rama (16th century, Krakow) who presents 12 reasons for sacrifices. The first reason is from the Kuzari (see also Everett Fox 1995, p. 507, who quotes Smith 1927) that the sacrifice connects the giver with G-d through the food. Apparently, the idea is that the sacrifices are a shared meal that joins man with G-d as any regular meal joins people together. I find this difficult since there is no action of G-d by the sacrifices, and as Ehrlich (1900, p. 168) points out the sacrifices are eaten before G-d but not with G-d, see Shemot 18:12.

Reasons #2 and #8 are that sacrifices show a denial of idolatrous beliefs. Rambam (Moreh 3:46) writes that people used to worship sheep, goats and oxen, and hence he suggests that we are commanded to sacrifice these animals to show that we deny any divinity to these animals. (The Rambam does note that as these species are domesticated they are easy to obtain.) Ramban (on Vayikra 1:9) disputes this idea since then the point of sacrifices is only to deny beliefs of foolish people who worshipped the animals. Furthermore, sacrificing the animals is not a denial of the divinity of the animals but a form of honoring the animals. If the Rambam was correct, then we should just eat the animals. Ramban also points that one cannot claim that sacrifices are a “pleasant smell” because they show a denial of idolatrous beliefs since when Noah and Hevel offered their sacrifice nobody else existed, and the Torah records that G-d approved of their sacrifices, Bereshit 4:4, 8:21.

The 3rd reason is the juridical approach. Ramban (on 1:9, apparently quoting Ibn Ezra) writes that when a person pours blood on the altar one should think that he sinned to G-d and really his blood should have been poured on the altar. With this idea, it is G-d's kindness to spare the person and take the sacrifice instead. Yet, Hoffmann (1953, Introduction to Vayikra) points out that some sacrifices were not animals. Also, not all sacrifices were for sins and even when the sacrifices were due to sins the person was not supposed to die for their sins even had there been no sacrifice.

A variation on the 3rd reason is reason #11, that the sacrifice redeems or expiates a person from sins that did not entail cardinal punishment. Bekhor Shor (on Shemot 30:1 and Vayikra 2:13) suggests a further variation that the sacrifices show a person that he has been forgiven for his sins and this stops a person from sinning further. If there had been no sacrifices, then a person might have become discouraged and say, “well I have sinned already what harm is there in sinning again.” Yet, again this rationale of expiation might be applicable when the sacrifice is brought for sins but as pointed out by Hoffmann many sacrifices were not due to sins.

The 4th and 5th reasons are that sacrifices are to stop people from sinning because either the cost of the sacrifice is a financial penalty (#4) or because when one sees the dead animal one realizes how precarious is one’s own life (#5). The problem with reason #4 is that again many sacrifices are not based on sins, most sins do not require sacrifices, and even when sacrifices are due to sins many times they can be brought cheaply, as in Bemidbar 5:15. The problem with reason number five is any non-animal sacrifice and whether seeing a dead animal will really inspire a person to question the point of life. I have been told that for people who are accustomed to seeing blood and guts, the sight of the sacrificed animal would have no impact on them.

The 6th reason is that the sacrifices give a livelihood to the priests. Yet, while this is a result of the sacrifices, it is unlikely to be the reason for the sacrifices since there could have been just donations to the priests, like by the Levites.

The 7th reason is that the fire of the altar destroys the evil inclination within the person sacrificing the animal. How this happens is completely unknown to me.

The 9th and 12th reasons are that the sacrifices lead a person to a further dedication to G-d. I think the idea is that going through the whole process leads one to dedicate himself to G-d. Yet, is this different than other commandments? Maybe sacrifices are a particularly lengthy and physical process.

The 10th reason is Kabbalistic that the sacrifice is a process that unites the divine powers, the Sefirot, see Ramban on 1:9, "the true reason." After recording these 12 opinions the Rama adds a 13th opinion based on a connection with the creation of the world that is also mystical.

Hoffmann (1953, Introduction to Vayikra, pp. 59-67) presents a shorter list of four reasons for sacrifices. One approach is the “rational” approach of the Rambam (Moreh 3:32, also see Luzzatto on Vayikra 1:1). The Rambam writes that really G-d does not want there to be sacrifices, but when the Torah was given the people were so accustomed to religion involving sacrifices that G-d allowed for there to be sacrifices. With this idea, sacrifices do not appear to have any positive value, but the Rambam (Moreh 3:46) believes that there is some positive value to sacrifices since, as mentioned above, he thinks that they can eradicate idolatrous beliefs. Hoffmann rejects this approach since he claims it has no support in Chazal, though the Rambam (Moreh 3:32) argues that his view is supported by the prophets and by some Midrashim. (Maybe there is even a proof from the Torah for this idea, see our discussion below on 10:16-20, "An argument for the sake of heaven,"  https://lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2015/03/vayikra-1016-20-shemini-argument-for.html)

A second approach is anthropological that sacrifices are to propitiate G-d by giving G-d gifts. Hoffmann rejects this approach since the most important part of the sacrificial process was the sprinkling of the blood on the altar, and not the offering of the sacrifice itself. Also, G-d does not need our gifts.

The third approach is the juridical approach, mentioned above.

The fourth approach is the symbolic approach that the sacrifices symbolize a dedication to G-d, which corresponds to approaches nine and twelve above. Hoffmann argues that this approach can be seen in the sacrifices brought prior to Mount Sinai by Hevel, Noah, Avraham (the akedah) and Yaakov, that Hoffman suggests that each person was showing his belief and dedication to G-d. Hoffman argues that an oral dedication is not enough since actions are needed to show that the dedication is sincere. Yet, why is there a need to kill an animal to show a sincere dedication as opposed to some other action?

My guess is that to understand sacrifices, we need to understand the phrase "a pleasing smell" in 1:9. The phrase "a pleasing smell" connotes a good thing, but the use of the imagery of one of the senses, smell, suggests the idea of temporariness as senses give a temporary sensation but then are absent when the cause of the sensation is gone. Smells might be the least permanent of the senses since even when the cause of the smell is present, smells dissipate. This imagery of a "pleasing smell" then suggests that the sacrifices have at best a temporary effect on the person and/ or on G-d's view of the person.

What is this temporary effect? Here we enter the realm of speculation, but following the Rambam's approach (Moreh 3:32), in olden times, sacrifices were how people thought they were connecting to and establishing a relationship with G-d, and hence G-d allowed sacrifices since people then could not conceive of having a religion without sacrifices. The act of offering the animal was considered as giving something to G-d, and this gave the person bringing the sacrifice a feeling of being connected to G-d. The phrase a "pleasing smell" is then G-d's recognition that the person is offering the sacrifice to get close to and to worship Him, and hence the sacrifice is viewed positively. Yet, due to the temporary effect of the sacrifice, the sacrifice has no value in itself and the person is not considered intrinsically better or more religious since he/ she offered sacrifices. For example, I doubt that G-d decided not to curse the world again after the flood just because Noah offered sacrifices when he left the ark, Bereshit 8:21. However, when Noah offered sacrifices, this action was viewed positively by G-d since G-d knew that Noah was offering the sacrifices to thank G-d for saving him and his family from the flood. (This idea would be similar to reason number one of the Rama, though I doubt that people thought they were sharing food with G-d, and number four of Hoffmann, but it minimizes the value of the sacrifice.)

This idea would apply to the korban olah, to the minhah, which was a poor man's olah, and the shelamim sacrifices. It also could apply to a person who brings a sacrifice when he/ she sins accidentally, and who needs to "re-connect" with G-d, 4:31. This idea does not apply to the korban pesach, which is a re-enactment of the first korban pesach in Egypt. In Egypt, the sacrifice was necessary to get the blood to put on the doorposts, and the subsequent sacrifices are to remember that sacrifice. Possibly for this reason, the phrase "a pleasing smell" is never used in reference to the korban pesach since the bringing of this sacrifice is viewed positively forever.

Bibliography:

Ehrlich, A. 1990, Hamiqra Kifshuto, Berlin: Poppelauer.

Fox, Everett, 1995, The Five Books of Moses: A new translation, New York: Schocken Books.

Hoffmann, David Tzvi (1843-1921), 1953, Leviticus, Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook.

Smith, Robertson, 1927, Lectures on the Religion of the Semites, 3rd edition, New York: Macmillan

Shemot 22:17 (Mishpatim) – Bewitched

Shemot 22:17 records, "no witch shall you let live," (Alter, 2004, p. 445, translation). This short verse raises several questions. Does the fact that witches are not to be tolerated imply that witches have real power? What harm is there if they do nothing? What is the difference between magic and science, as both are trying to change nature? Magic would seem to be bad science.

Does the Torah accept the efficacy of magic? One possible proof that it does is that the Egyptian magicians were able to turn their staffs into crocodiles and perform the first two plagues, Shemot 7:11,22; 8:3. Ramban and Ibn Ezra (on 7:11) explain that their ability was due to witchcraft. On the other hand, Seforno (on 7:12,23; 8:3) explains in all three cases that it only appeared that they performed magic. 

I believe that these two instances were unique since G-d gave the Egyptian magicians these powers as part of G-d’s plan to harden Pharaoh’s heart. My guess is that the Egyptian magicians were surprised themselves that they were able to do these actions, and hence on the third plague, which was the first plague that they were unable to repeat, they immediately recognized the plague as being from G-d, 8:15. However, Pharaoh was not convinced by the third plague since he assumed that the magicians really did the plagues. For Pharaoh, the third plague was the first time the magicians had been refuted and one incident is never enough to convince doubters. 

The medieval commentators argued whether witchcraft is efficacious. Rambam (Laws of Idolatry 11:17, translation from Twersky, 1972, pp. 75,76) writes regarding magic that “whoever believes in these and similar things and in his heart, holds them to be true and scientific and only forbidden by the Torah is nothing but a fool deficient in understanding… Sensible people who possess sound mental faculties, know by clear proofs that all these practices which the Torah prohibited have no scientific basis but are chimerical and inane; and that only those deficient in knowledge are attracted by these follies.” This strong statement would seem to end the issue, but nothing is ever so simple.

Ramban (on Devarim 18:9, see also the Abravanel's comments on Devarim 18) seems to refer to Rambam as he writes that many do not believe in witchcraft, but he accepts their efficacy since he claims that "their powers have been seen by many." Ramban explains that really witchcraft demonstrates wisdom, but it is only to be used by non-Jews. Jews are supposed to listen to prophets and that is why they are forbidden to do witchcraft. Not only is the Ramban’s acceptance of witchcraft difficult, but it seems to contradict the Torah. Devarim 18:12 refers to these practices as an abomination, which cannot accord with his idea that they show wisdom. Ramban argues that only some of the practices listed in Devarim 18:9-11 are abominations, but the simple sense of the text is that all the practices, including witchcraft are abominations.

It is fascinating that H. R. Trevor-Roper (1967, pp. 92,93) points out that until the 12th century, Christian Europe rejected the idea that witches had any power. However, starting in the 13th century Christian Europe began to accept as an objective fact the powers of witches, and it reached a point that whoever disbelieved of them was considered of unsound mind. This suggests that maybe the views of the Rambam, who lived in the 12th century though not in Christian lands, and the Ramban, who lived most of his life in the 13th century under Christian rule, were influenced by the views of the general society. This correspondence is further strengthened since, as mentioned above, one reason the Ramban accepted witchcraft was that he claimed that many people saw their powers.

To return to our verse, Encyclopedia Judaica (1971, 11:703) mentions the possibility that the Torah was only prohibiting mischievous or “black” magic, so then one could understand 22:17 as only referring to "evil" witches. However, as Cassuto (1967, p. 290) points out, the Torah forbids all magic even when used for good purposes. Cassuto argues that any use of magic is an “attempt to prevail over the will of G-d, who alone has dominion over the world.” Yet, if witches cannot change anything in the world, then they are showing no dominion in the world. Again how is magic different from science? Why should 22:17 outlaw witches?

In order to understand this prohibition, we need to define what is witchcraft. Thrower (1999) notes that anthropologists have accepted that one cannot separate magic from religion. He quotes Eric Sharpe, who writes, “magic involves the harnessing and the manipulation of forces from ‘beyond,’ from the ‘parallel world’ of gods, ghosts and spirits. Magic does not assume that effect follows cause without the intervention of any spiritual or personal agency. On the contrary, it sees such agencies everywhere, and does its best to use them, either with or without acknowledgment.” For example, Trevor Roper (1967, p. 94) records the descriptions of the sabbat (gathering) of the witches, and writes “with them were scores of demons… and above all, dominating them all, was the Devil himself.”

I did not find a definition of witchcraft in Chazal, but the Talmud (Sanhedrin 67b) quotes a Rav Ibyu the son of Nagri who quoted R. Hiyya the son of Abba, that there is a difference between witchcraft and actions involving demons. The Tur (Yoreh Deah, end of 179), after listing and differentiating between many acts of magic, writes that witchcraft covers all these acts. Afterwards he quotes the Ramah (R. Meir Abulafyia) that actions involving demons are included in the definition of witchcraft. The Bach in his comments on the Tur, writes that from the Talmud we see that witchcraft is different than actions with demons. However, it is simpler to understand that witchcraft involves some action to invoke demons to do something, and every time the Torah uses the word witches, this means an action to invoke demons. (Is this the Rambam's understanding of witchcraft? The Rambam in the Mishnah Torah lists the prohibition of magic within the laws of idolatry, 6:1,2, 11:6-16, and see his discussion in the Moreh 3:37, 1963, p. 542.

We can now understand why witchcraft is forbidden. In our discussion on Shemot 20:3, "Forces and gods," (https://lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2013/01/shemt-203-yitro-forces-and-gods.html) we argued that the Torah does not forbid one from believing that other gods or forces exist, but it is forbidden to worship them, mention their names, and think they are equal to G-d. Witchcraft is not just a belief in demons, but an attempt to use these demons for some purposes, which is tantamount to worshipping demons. Thus, witchcraft is forbidden even if their acts are ineffective since they are worshipping demons. On the other hand, science is not forbidden since science rejects the existence of demons.

With this understanding, is it forbidden for a person to perform an action, such as twitching one’s nose due to a belief that this action will cause something to happen magically but without attempting to invoke demons? Even if no, still maybe it is wrong to read or talk about demons, even nice ones like the tooth fairy? Or, maybe reading about demons (in the Harry Potter series?) is okay in the modern era where everybody knows that demons do not exist. Maybe not, further thought is needed.

Bibliography:

Alter, Robert, 2004, The five books of Moses: A translation and commentary, New York: W. W. Norton and Company.

Cassuto, Umberto (1883-1951), 1967, A commentary on the book of Exodus, Jerusalem: The Magnes Press.

Thrower, James, 1999, Religion: The Classical Theories, Georgetown University Press.

Trevor-Roper, H. R. 1967, The European Witch-Craze of the 16th and 17th Centuries and Other Essays, New York: Harper & Row.

Twersky, Isadore, 1972, A Maimonides reader, New York: Behrman House.

Shemot 7:1-12:29- The ten plagues in Egypt: Their structure, order, and maybe their rationale

Shemot 7:1-12:29 record the changing of Aharon's staff into a crocodile, and the ten plagues. The Haggadah quotes Rabbi Yehuda who states a mnemonic for the ten plagues that splits them up into three groups (3+3+4) based on the first letters of the plagues, dzakh adash bachav. In the Middle Ages, the Rashbam (on 7:26) seems to follow this division and noted that that by the first two plagues in each set, Moshe warned Pharaoh and by the third plague in each set there was no warning. Seforno (on 8:12) expands on this distinction and notes that the tenth plague is separate from the other nine plagues. This separation can be seen by the fact that there is a lengthy break from the nine plagues, 7:1-10:23, and the tenth plague, 12:29. Thus, the order of the plagues can be thought of as being nine plus one, or 3, 3,  3,  1.

Many commentators (see for example Malbim on 7:14, and Sarna 1986, p. 76) have noticed other distinctions within each of the three sets of three plagues. When G-d tells Moshe to go to Pharaoh by the first plague in each set, the word used is nisav or hityasev, 7:15, 8:16, and 9:13, while by the second plague in each set the word used is bo, 7:26, 9:1 and 10:1. Furthermore, within the warning by the first plague in each set, G-d tells Moshe to tell Pharaoh a reason for the set of three plagues, 7:17, 8:18 and 9:14, while no rationale is recorded within the warning by second plague in each set. (8:6 records Moshe giving a reason for the removal of the frogs which was second plague, but this appears to be from Moshe since there is no indication that G-d instructed to Moshe to say this.)

In addition, and I did not see this mentioned, by the third plague in each set of three plagues not only is there no warning, but the plague comes and goes without any reaction by Pharaoh. By all the other plagues, Pharaoh responds in some way, by negotiating, 7:4, 8:21, 9:27, 10:16, by not being impressed, 7:23, or by noting the damage done by the plague, 9:7. 10:24 records Pharaoh speaking to Moshe after the plague of darkness (the third plague in the third set), but not only is the plague over, but Pharaoh makes no reference to the plague. Similarly, in the plague of kinnim (the third plague in the first set), Pharaoh's advisors state that the plague was "the finger of G-d," 8:15, but Pharaoh says nothing since he never responded to the third plague.

This grouping of three groups of three plagues plus the tenth plague does not include the miracle of changing the staff into a crocodile, 7:8-13, the introduction to the plagues, and hence really the order of the plagues should be 1, 3, 3, 3, 1. This pattern is similar to the structure of the creation of the world, which was 1, 3, 3, 1, see our discussion on Bereshit chapter one "A literary pattern?" (https://lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2011/10/bereshit-chapter-one-literary-pattern.html

Is there an order to the plagues?

A popular answer (see Rashi on 8:16 and Ralbag, comments end of Va-era`) is that the order is based on the escalation in the severity of the plagues. However, while the tenth plague is clearly the most severe plague, the ninth plague, darkness, seems to be less severe than the preceding plagues of locusts, hail and boils. It seems that if one wants to follow this idea of increasing severity, one would have to argue that the psychological effects of the plague of darkness were greater than the physical pain of boils, and then maybe one could divide the three sets of plagues into annoying, the first set, destructive, the second set and psychological, the third set. (The hail and the locusts, from the third set, also destroyed the Egyptian crops, but this was part of the psychological warfare since the people would worry about their future food.) On the other hand, if the second set of plagues was worse than the third set of plagues, than the severity of the plagues would be a parabola. Of course, the only people who can truly answer whether the plagues were escalating in severity were the Egyptians who lived through the plagues.

A different way to understand the order of the plagues is based on the rational for each of the three sets of three plagues in response to Pharaoh's statement in 5:2. (This idea is discussed in many places, see for example Greenberg, 1971, p. 607, and Weitzman, 1999, pp. 87-99.) In 5:2, Pharaoh stated that he did not know G-d, and even if he knew G-d, he would not release the Jewish people since he evidently did not believe that G-d had any power in this world.

The lesson of the first set of three plagues was that Pharaoh should learn of G-d, 7:17, and this lesson occurred in ascending order, first by nature (blood), then in the homes (frogs) and then on the bodies (kinnim).

The lesson of the second set of three plagues was that G-d is present in the world, 8:18, which was to be learned based on the distinction of the plagues by the Jews and the Egyptians, and this too had an ascending order. The first distinction (arov) was between the homes of the Jews and the Egyptians, 8:20, the second distinction (dever) was between the Jewish and Egyptian animals, 9:4, and the third distinction (boils) was between the bodies of the Jews and the Egyptians, 9:11.

The lesson of the third set of three plagues was that G-d was unique, Shemot 9:14, and the first two plagues of the set are reported as being unique Shemot 9:24 (barad), and 10:6 (locusts). The uniqueness here was in reference to G-d's control over the forces of nature. Note that by the plague of barad, the point of the plague was not to cause damage since Moshe warned the people to bring their animals inside, 9:19 (see Ramban on 9:19), and 9:33 can be understood, as explained by Rashi (on 9:33), that G-d even stopped the rain in mid-course. Instead, it was to show G-d's control over the rain, hail, lighting and thunder, 9:23,24. Also, the unique point of the plague of locusts was not its destruction of some of the crops, which occurs by all swarms of locusts, but the massive presence of the locusts throughout Egypt and this was due to the great wind that brought the locusts, 10:13. G-d's power and control of the wind was also evident when G-d removed the tremendous quantities of locusts, as 10:19 records that the locusts were dumped into the sea, which most likely gave the effect of a great tornado. By the third plague in this set of plagues, darkness, the word unique is not mentioned, but complete darkness for three days was also obviously unique, and this plague showed G-d's control of the sun. In this set of plague, the order was the increase in the demonstration of G-d's control of nature, first over the rain, barad, then over the wind, locusts, and then over the sun, darkness.

Accordingly, within each set of three plagues there is an order of ascending message/ lesson. These lessons of the plagues are most likely the rationale for the plagues since G-d did not have to do any plagues to take the people out of Egypt, as He could have told the people to walk and stopped the Egyptians from attacking them. The lessons of the plagues were to prepare the people for the Decalogue and the covenant with G-d, as finally after the miracle of the splitting of the Yam Suf, 14:31 records that the people believed in G-d.

On the other hand, 10:2 states that the reason for the numerous plagues was in order that the Jewish people would remember the plagues, which is different than the three lessons of the three sets of plagues. Also, 9:16 and 10:1 record in reference to Pharaoh and the Egyptians that the plagues were for them to tell the world about G-d. These are additional reasons to the main reason of the plagues, which was to inculcate the belief of G-d in the Jewish people.

Bibliography:

Greenberg, Moshe (1928-2010), 1971, Plagues in Encyclopedia Judaica, Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House, 13, pp. 604-613.

Sarna, Nahum (1923-2005), 1986, Exploring Exodus, New York: Schocken Books.

Weitzman, Gideon, 1999, Sparks of Light, Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson Inc.