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 offering was necessary to get the blood to put on the doorposts, and the subsequent sacrifices are to remember that offering. 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) – The prohibition of magic and witchcraft in the Torah: 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 Ran towards the very end of the fourth derasha, in the middle/towards the end of the eleventh drasha and in the second half of the twelfth derasha in his 13 derashot and 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 (early 14th century, 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. 

On the other hand, the Ran’s (14th century, derasha 12) explanation for why magical practices are forbidden, what Chazal call darkei ha-emori, is that it is because the non-Jewish nations would try to invoke their gods when doing their magic, and then this would be a form of idolatry. Following this, 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, "A literary pattern to the description in the Torah of the creation of the world."

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.

Why is there no law/ custom to have a festive meal on Hanukkah?

One curiosity of Hanukkah is that there is no obligation to eat a festive meal in honor of the holiday. Shulchan Arukh (Orah Chayyim 670:2) writes that extra meals on Hanukkah are voluntary since it was never decreed that one is obligated to have festive meals to celebrate Hanukkah. Rama (670:2, 16th century) adds that that some people say there is a "small" commandment to have extra meals in honor of Hanukkah. (See article by Meir Rafled, 1995, for a discussion of the sources for having a festive meal on Hanukkah.)

This lack of a festive meal is surprising since the most typical way that people celebrate a happy occasion is by having a festive meal, and on all other holidays there is an obligation to have a festive meal. Why is there no obligation to have a festive meal for Hanukkah? It is true that Hanukkah is not mentioned in the Torah, but Purim is also not mentioned in the Torah and there is an obligation to have a festive meal on Purim. Four different answers have been suggested based on differences between Purim and Hanukkah.

The Levush (published from 1590-1604, quoted in the Mishnah Berurah, 670:6), who seems to have been the first to ask this question, suggests that the difference between Purim and Hanukkah is that on Purim the people were in danger of being killed, but on Hanukkah the people's freedom to practice religion was threatened but not their lives. Thus, since on Purim the danger to the people was physical, then we eat which is a physical act to celebrate our salvation, but on Hanukkah the danger was spiritual so there is no need to celebrate by eating.

The Taz (670:3, 1586-1667) rejects this rationale since he points out that religious freedom is just as important as physical freedom. Instead, he slightly varies the idea of the Levush. He suggests that on Purim, a festive meal was instituted since on Purim there was a clear miracle to save the people's lives, but on Hanukkah the military victory over the Greeks was not an obvious miracle. Instead, the miracle of Hanukkah was that the oil lasted eight days, but this was a "spiritual" miracle that would not have provided as much happiness as by a miracle that saved people's lives. This distinction between the nature of the miracles of Purim and Hanukkah is difficult since one could just as easily argue that the Hasmoneans victory over the much larger Greek armies was a more obvious case of divine intervention than Esther's actions to save the Jewish people. Also, the miracle of the oil was a physical event and presumably made the people happy who saw it.

The Taz's father-in-law, the Bach (1561-1640, comments on the Tur, 670) suggests a different distinction between Purim and Hanukkah. He notes that according to Chazal, on Purim the decree that the Jews were supposed to die was in response to the people's sin of enjoying Achashverosh's party in the first chapter of Megillat Esther (Talmud Bavli, Megillah 12a). Hence, the people had to fast as part of their repentance, and the meal we have on Purim is to "fix" the initial sin of the people. However, by Hanukkah, he writes the sin of the people that caused the Greek decrees was the people's negligence by the sacrifices, and hence the "fixing" of the sin is the just the lighting of the menorah, which is related to the Bet ha-Mikdash.

A fourth suggestion is from the Maamar Mordechai (Mordechai Karmi, 1749-1825, France, commentary on the Shulchan Arukh 670:2) who notes that on Purim the people were saved by Esther's meal with Achashverosh and Haman, and hence the meal on Purim recalls the salvation of the people. However, on Hanukkah, the people's salvation was not related to eating so no meal was established.

Other possible reasons can be suggested. One reason is that it would have been difficult (expensive and time consuming) for people to have large festive meals every day for eight days. On the other hand it was not desired to institute a requirement to have a festive meal just on one day since that would have made the day more important than the other seven days. With this idea, Chazal did not institute a festival meal for practical reasons.

Another possibility is that had a meal been instituted then this might have generated discussions about the war between the Greeks and the Hasmoneans, which in turn might have led the people to try to rebel again. However, after the disastrous rebellions against the Romans in 66-70 and then by Bar Kokhba, 132-135, the idea was just to stress the candle lighting aspect of the holiday without having a meal. However, this idea would not explain why a festival meal was not made obligatory from the time of the Hasmoneans.

A final possibility for the lack of an obligatory festive meal on Hanukkah might be due to the time in the year when the holiday falls. Hanukkah can occur from the end of November to the beginning of January, which means that in certain years (as in 2016) it occurs near the time of the winter solstice, which was a time of festivals of other nations. In Greek times there were festivals for Dionysius and in Roman times the pagan holiday Saturnalia was celebrated in the end of December, for many years, on December 17-23. (The Mishnah, Avodah Zarah 1:3 refers to Saturnalia and another Roman holiday, Kalends, which apparently was celebrated a few days after Saturnalia.) On these holidays there were large feasts and hence maybe Chazal did not institute a mandatory meal on Hanukkah in order to separate Hanukkah from these other holidays. Accordingly, Chazal just instituted the reciting of Hallel (to G-d), and that the candle lighting should be in the homes (Talmud Bavli, Shabbat, 21b) to keep the celebrations of the holiday within the family and the Jewish community. This idea would accord with the notion that Hanukkah was part of the battle to remove the Greek influence from the Jews.

Bibliography:

Rafled, Meir, 1995, Eating and happiness on Hanukkah, in Minhagei Yisrael, edited by Daniel Sperber, Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, Vol. 5, pp. 85-101.

Bereshit 24:50-55 – Lavan and Betuel holding their tongues

Bereshit 24:50 records that after Avraham's servant presented his marriage proposal that Rivka should marry Yitzhak, both Lavan, Rivka's brother, and Betuel, Rivka's father, agreed to the proposal saying, "The matter comes from G-d, we cannot speak anything to you bad or good. Here is Rivka before you, take her and go, she may be a wife for the son of your lord, as G-d had spoke," (Fox, 1995, translation).

After this acceptance, the servant gave gifts to Rivka, her mother and her brother, but not to her father, 24:53. The following morning, Rivka's mother and brother tried to delay the marriage by requesting that Rivka stay at home for some time, and again Betuel is absent, 24:55. Where was Betuel in the morning and why did the servant not give him presents?

Rashi (on 24:55) quotes from the Midrash that Betuel died during the night, while the Bekhor Shor (on 24:55, also see Luzzatto on 24:55) explains that he did not speak in the morning since he did not want to delay the marriage.

Perry (2007) suggests that it is possible to explain Betuel's disappearance based on idea that Rivka's mother and father had separate houses. He suggests that Rivka was always in her mother's house (24:28), and that Lavan went back and forth between her mother's house and her father's house. When Rivka came home after meeting the servant, she went to her mother's house, but the servant went with Lavan to her father's house. After Lavan and Betuel agreed to the match, the servant went back to the mother's house, where he gave presents to Rivka and to Lavan who went with him but Betuel stayed in his house so he did not get any presents. Finally, in the morning, when the servant went to take Rivka, he went to Rivka's mother's house and Betuel was not there.

While these approaches are possible, I do not understand why there is even a question why Betuel did not speak in 24:55. After Betuel heard the servant's tale he said that the marriage was destined by G-d, and that "he would not say anything bad or good," 24:50. This means he would keep quiet. Why should one expect him to say something the following morning?

One might then wonder why 24:55 records that Rivka's brother asked for Rivka to stay at home for some time if Lavan had also said in 24:50, that "he would not say anything bad or good"? Did Lavan go back on his word? More likely, the reference to Rivka's brother in 24:55 is not to Lavan but to a different brother of Rivka. The proof is that had 24:55 been referring to Lavan, then the text would have referred to him by his name, as occurs throughout the chapter. Instead, 24:55 is referring to another brother of Rivka who is referred to anonymously as Rivka's brother, and this anonymous brother asked for Rivka to remain at home for some time.

With this understanding, maybe we can also understand why the servant did not give any gifts to Betuel in 24:53. The servant already had the agreement from Lavan and Betuel for the match, and they had indicated that they did not want to have anything more to do with the servant as they said, "here is Rivka before you, take her and go," 24:51. Thus, the servant did not give them any gifts. However, the servant must have sensed that not everybody else in the family was so thrilled with the match. Thus, he gave Rivka's mother and her anonymous brother (not Lavan) gifts to get them to be more supportive of the match, but in this effort he did not succeed since the following morning they tried to stop the match by requesting that Rivka not leave right away, 24:55.

Bibliography:

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

Perry, Menachem, 2007, Counter-stories in the Bible: Rebekah and her bridegroom, Abraham's servant, Prooftexts, 27, 2007, pp. 275-323.

Bereshit 11:1-9 (Noah) – The tower of Bavel: To boldly go, not?

Bereshit 11:1-9 records the story of the Tower of Babel. The people of the world gathered together to build a city and a tower, but G-d disapproved of their efforts and stopped them by dispersing them all over the world. What was wrong in building the city and the tower that G-d had to intervene in the world? Also, this episode is recorded between two sets of genealogies, elleh toledot of the children of Noah, 10:1-32 and the elleh toledot of Shem, 11:10-11:26. How does this episode relate to these genealogies?

One approach to understanding the building of the city and the tower is that the tower was meant to be used for idolatrous practices. Bereshit Rabbah 38:6 explains that the people said "Come let us build a tower at the top of which we will set an idol holding a sword in its hand, which will thus appear to wage war against Him." (This same idea appears explicitly in the piyyut atah konnata and hinted to in the piyyut amitz koah, both of which are recited in the avodah prayer in the repetition of the chazzan’s Shemoneh Esrei on Musaf of Yom Kippur.)  This approach is based on the idea that the word shamayim in 11:4 means the heavens, but really this word in all of the Torah just means air. 11:4 then means that the people wanted to build a tower or building high in the air.

Seforno (on 11:4, see Sanhedrin 109a and Haketav Vehakabbalah on 11:4) varies this idea and suggests that when the Torah records that the people wanted to make a name for themselves this meant they wanted to worship idolatry.

Modern archeological might support this approach, as large towers, called ziqqurat, have been found in many ancient Mesopotamian (Bavel, modern day Iraq) cities. Sarna (1970, pp. 63-80) notes that the Torah specifically records that the bricks for building the tower were baked in an oven and bitumen was used for mortar, 11:3, and this was the method for building in Mesopotamia. Also, the idea of making a name, 11:4, could correspond to the ancient practice of inscribing names of kings on bricks and depositing the bricks in the foundations of the ziqqurat. Ziqqurat were a central part of the Mesopotamian religion that it was believed that by going up to the tower the people would contact god.

Sarna argues that the episode is an anti-pagan polemic since it shows G-d's superiority that G-d could easily stop the building of the tower. This episode could then relate to the birth of Avram, which is recorded at the end of the elleh toledot of Shem, 11:26, because prior to the development of a new religion the Torah shows the meaninglessness of the pagan religion of Avram's time.

While this approach seems reasonable, P.J. Harland (1998) doubts this approach since "there is no reference to any image on the tower,… there is no mention made by the people that they intended any improper worship,"… and he claims the word tower, migdal, should be understood as a fortress and not a tower. 

N. Leibowitz (1976, pp. 100-108, see also Ramban on 11:2 though he is very cryptic) proposes a second approach that the purpose of building the tower was "to make man forget his insignificance and transientness, to delude him with his greatness and immortality, in short to make for himself a name." The sin was then of hubris that the people thought they could become like G-d. With this idea, the people's dispersal was a punishment to cut them down to size and reduce their pride. N. Leibowitz further writes that "only when there will be an end to man's pride which takes advantage of the wisdom implanted in him by G-d in order to turn himself into a deity and worship the work of his own hands" will people be able to truly worship G-d. One could then suggest that humankind's pride had to be reduced before Avram was to spread his religious message.

I do not like this approach for two reasons. One, as noted by Sarna, "the desire for fame is perfectly human and not in itself reprehensible. Indeed, the granting thereof is part of the divine promise to Avram, 12:2" (see also Cassuto, 1964, p. 243). Two, is there really a need for G-d to intervene to reduce man's pride? Lemekh (4:23,24) and others since him have been proud and G-d did not intervene explicitly in the world to reduce their pride.

According to the above approaches, the dispersal of the people was a punishment, but there are other approaches which understand the dispersal as a beneficial action. One of these approaches is to argue that the sin of building the tower and the city was that the people were setting up an inappropriate political system. S.R. Hirsch (1989, p. 207) writes that the building was "to make something that should serve as a perpetual reminder of the power of the community over the individual." (I wonder if these comments relate to Hirsch's fight to separate from the Reform community in Germany.) Similarly, Yeshayahu Leibowitz (1990, p. 18) writes that the sin of the building of the city and the tower was not the building per se, but "the aim to use these artificial means to ensure a situation of 'one language and one speech' of centralization, which in modern parlance would be known as totalitarianism." Thus, Y. Leibowitz argues that when G-d dispersed the people, G-d was helping the people by giving them back their freedom. This approach could also relate to the birth of Avram since as Avram was going to start a new nation there was need for political freedom. Yet, while this approach is interesting, I doubt the Torah here is trying to teach us political lessons.

Another approach which views the dispersal of mankind in a positive vein is that the dispersal was part of the fulfillment of the blessing to humankind in 1:28 and 9:1 to "fill the world." (Ibn Ezra end of comments on 11:7, Rashbam on 11:4, Radak on 11:5, Bekhor Shor on 11:4, Hizkuni on 11:1, Luzzatto on 11:4 and Cassuto, 1964 p. 243, all follow this approach.  See also Hiebert 2007.) The idea here is that the people wanted to build the tower and the city to ensure that everybody would live in one place since the tower was to be a central point that people would return to. Similarly, the idea of making a name was that if people left the city they would remember the city and return to it (Radak on 11:4). Ibn Ezra (on 11:4) notes that according to this approach there is no issue with the height of the tower, as the phrase "until the heavens" was just meant to imply a tall building (see Devarim 1:28). 

According to this approach, the problem here was that G-d did not want people to live in one place since humankind was blessed to spread throughout the world (1:28, and 9:1), and hence G-d dispersed the people. The people were not being punished since it was always part of their destiny to spread out all over the world. Furthermore, according to this approach it is not even clear if the people sinned, as Ibn Ezra (on 11:4) points out that maybe they did not know that they were supposed to spread out all over the world.

This "dispersal" approach accords with the text as 11:4 explicitly records that the people said that they were building the city and the tower "lest we be dispersed over the face of all the earth." The same word for dispersed, nafutz, occurs again in 11:8, va-yafatz, which records G-d's dispersal of the people, and in the last sentence of the description of this incident, which summarizes the incident, 11:9, he-fitzam. We see that this was the main issue that the people did not want to disperse since they wanted everybody to live in some large metropolis, and G-d wanted them to disperse.

Yet, why was there a need for G-d to intervene and disperse the people, as human nature will lead people to go out, travel and explore, and eventually after building the tower, people would have left to go to other places. Furthermore, chapter 10 already recorded that the people had dispersed throughout the world, 10:5,32, which seemed to occur without G-d intervening. Thus, the phrase "all the earth" in 11:1 most likely signifies many people in the world were involved in this project to build the city and the tower, but not that literally every person in the world was involved in building the tower since some people had already dispersed from the area. 

People will naturally spread out throughout the world, but the episode here shows that this action is part of G-d's will. G-d's dispersal of the people by the Tower of Babel was then one example of the spreading out of people throughout the world as recorded in chapter 10, and hence this episode is part of the elleh toledot section of chapter 10.

Why was it important to show that the spreading out of people throughout the world was G-d's will? The answer relates to the ensuing narrative, which records the genealogy leading up to Avram. G-d was going to establish a covenant with Avram and his descendants (15:18, 17:7), but did that mean that G-d was no longer the G-d of the other nations? No, and this is seen by the episode of the Tower of Babel. The other nations of the world would not be part of the covenant of Avram, but they were still part of the blessing in Bereshit 1:28, that they should fill the world and conquer it. The episode of the Tower of Babel shows that G-d cares about all people in the world as G-d was helping the people of the world to fill and conquer the world, and hence G-d was also their G-d. To highlight this connection between humankind and G-d, the Torah uses anthropomorphic words, that G-d came down to see the building (11:5) and the use of the royal we in 11:7. The message of 11:1-9 is then to show that G-d is involved with the affairs of all of humankind, even if G-d was about to make a covenant with one nation.

Bibliography:

Harland, P.J. 1998, Vertical or horizontal: The sin of Babel, Vetus Testamentum, 1998, pp. 515-533.

Hiebert, Theodore, 2007, The tower of Babel and the origins of the world's cultures, Journal of Biblical Literature, 126:1, pp. 29-58.

Hirsch, S. R. (1808-1888), 1989, The Pentateuch, rendered into English by Isaac Levy, second edition, Gateshead: Judaica Press.

Leibowitz, Nehama (1905-1997), 1976, Studies in Bereshit, translated by Aryeh Newman, Jerusalem: The World Zionist Organization.

Leibowitz, Yeshayahu, 1990, Notes and remarks on the weekly parashah, translated by Shmuel Himelstein, Brooklyn: Chemed Books.

Sarna, Nahum (1923-2005), 1970, Understanding Genesis, New York: Schocken Books.

Devarim 32:11 (also Shemot 19:4) – On the wings of eagles

דברים לב:יא - כנשר יעיר קנו, על גוזליו ירחף, יפרש כנפיו יקחהו, ישאהו על אברתו. 

Devarim 32:11 records that just like a nesher (a bird) protects its young so too G-d protected the Jewish people, and as an example of this protection, the second half of the verses states that the nesher would put is young on its wings. This imagery is also mentioned in Shemot 19:4, but it is difficult since physically it is not clear that birds can put their young on their wings. Thus, Rabbenu Saadiah Gaon (on Shemot 19:4, also see Luzzatto on Shemot 19:4), writes that the phrase should be understood figuratively that G-d took care of the people. However, it seems that the imagery can be understood literally.

Driver (1955) discusses the identity of the nesher and he concludes that "the vulture is probably commonly intended, if only because it is the most easily and often seen of the great birds of prey. At the same time, the nesher undoubtedly includes the eagle." Three years later, (1958), he wrote that he "wrongly ascribed Shemot 19:4 and Devarim 32:11 to the vulture because of the great span of its wings, forgetting that instances of the eagle carrying its young on its back or wings had been recorded." He then recorded two observers of birds who noted that when the eagle teaches its young to fly it pushes the little bird out of the nest and then when the young bird falls down, the eagle swoops underneath the young bird. The eagle will repeat the process until its young learns how to fly. Thus, the eagle does not put its young on its back but it does carry its young on its back, as recorded in Shemot 19:4 and Devarim 32:11. Driver notes that both of these cases were with a golden eagle, and he concludes that "in the two passages, the nesher will be the golden eagle."

N. Leibowitz (1976a, pp. 295,296) compares the two verses, Shemot 19:4 and Devarim 32:11, and she claims that the verses present different images. One reason is that she claims that in Devarim 32:11, "it is doubtful if the idea of training and education can be read into it and the surrounding verses." Yet, as pointed out to me by my son Alon, this idea that the eagle carries its young when it is teaching them to fly, implies that the imagery of Devarim 32:11 refers both to G-d protecting the Jewish people and to G-d teaching the people.

Bibliography:

Driver, Godfrey Rolles, 1955, Birds in the Old Testament: I. Birds in laws, Palestine Exploration Quarterly, 86, pp. 5-20.

-----, 1958, Once again birds in the Bible, Palestine Exploration Quarterly, 90, pp. 56-58.

Leibowitz, Nehama (1905-1997), 1976a, Studies in Shemot, translated by Aryeh Newman, Jerusalem: The World Zionist Organization.