Archive for 2008

This week, we come to the climax of the Joseph story. All through the drama, Joseph has not revealed his identity to his brothers; they think he is the vice-Pharaoh of Egypt. At the end of last week’s parsha, Miketz, Joseph framed his younger brother Benjamin by placing his goblet in Benjamin’s knapsack, making it look as if Benjamin had stolen it. As the brothers left Egypt on the way back to Canaan, Joseph sent his men to catch up with them and accuse them of the theft. The brothers, who knew nothing of the goblet’s whereabouts, are indignant, and say the if any stolen object is found in the possession of one of them, that man should be put to death, and the rest of them made slaves. Joseph’s men make a more reasonable demand - the guilty party will be enslaved in Egypt, and the rest of them will be set free. Their bags are searched, the goblet is found where Joseph put it, in Benjamin’s bag, and the brothers, astounded, tear their clothing in a symbolic act of mourning.

Does Judaism believe in a stable, natural order or is nature a misleading illusion because, in truth, God directs every moment? Medievals and moderns debate this point and the argument can have serious implications. Does human effort and initiative working within the natural order truly solve problems? Who protects the state of Israel - kollel students or those serving in the army? Is becoming a doctor a wonderful way to help people or just another profession? Assumptions regarding the natural order can impact on our response to all of these questions.

Some passages of Ramban have led many to think that he denied the natural order altogether. In his commentary on the Torah (Shemot 13:16), Ramban writes that “A person has no portion in the Torah of Moshe Rabbenu until he believes that all our happenings are miracles; they have no nature or customary order of the world.” This passage strongly implies a denial of nature and Ramban is often cited in such a fashion.

In an excellent article (“Miracles and The Natural Order in Nahmanides,” Rabbi Moses Nahmanides: Explorations in His Religious and Literary Virtuosity ed. Isadore Twersky, Cambridge, 1983), David Begrer proves the error of this standard understanding of Ramban. In several passages, Ramban limits intensive providence to the truly righteous. The rest of humanity is left to the accidents of nature.

A verse in Bereishit (18:19) says that God “knew Avraham.” Ramban suggests that “knowledge” here refers to providence. Ramban explains that whereas most people are left to accidents, the pious receive God’s careful attention to know them and guard them as individuals. As we say every Shabbat morning, “Behold, God’s eye is on those that fear him” (Tehillim 33:19).

Ramban’s famous discussion of the role of human medicine (see his commentary on Vayikra 26:11) says that in an ideal universe, sickness would inspire repentance and there would be no need for doctors. However, people chose to consult doctors and “God left them to the accidents of nature.”

Someone might argue that individuals are subject to nature but that the Jewish collective knows only constant providence. Dr. Berger refutes that reading based on Ramban’s commentary to Iyyov (36:7). There, Ramban asserts that most people belong to the group subject to the natural order. He utilizes this point to explain why the Torah treats warfare as a human endeavor that requires strategy and planning. The wars of the Jewish people certainly consist of the actions of the Jewish collective and yet, Ramban writes of working within the natural order because the people’s religious stature does not merit acute providence.

How do we reconcile all of the above with the passage from his commentary on Shemot? Dr. Berger provides an explanation. “All things that happen to us in the context of reward and punishments are miracles (p. 127).” Ramban is not denying the natural order but rather arguing that that order plays no role in the working out of divine justice. God dispenses reward and punishment in a purely miraculous fashion. At the same time, the natural order exists and most individuals find themselves unworthy of the kind of providence that lifts them beyond its limitations.

I argued in the first paragraph that this question can have serious repercussions. If so, Dr. Berger has performed an important service in clarifying Ramban’s true position.

The Rabbis taught: Shimon haPekoli arranged the eighteen blessings [of the amida] before Rabban Gamliel at Yavne. R. Gamliel said to them: “Is there anyone who knows how to compose a blessing about the heretics [the nineteenth blessing, added to the amida at a later date]?” Shmuel haKatan got up and composed it. The next year, he forgot it and tried to remember it for two or three hours and they did not remove him [from leading the community as the Chazan]. (Berachot 28b)

R. Gamliel’s search for the right person to compose a blessing asking for the destruction of certain heretics or enemies indicates a sense of difficulty with this new prayer. Apparently, Shmuel haKatan was a person with the character and ability to resolve the difficulty. What was bothering R. Gamliel and how did Shmuel haKatan alleviate the problem?

R. Yaakov Reisher (Iyyun Yaakov in the Ein Yaakov) suggests that the wording for the amida’s blessings must reflect very precise intent and not everyone has the requisite knowledge and sensitivity to language to compose these blessings. This explains the need for the right person but does not explain why this blessing in particular caused a difficulty. Was it simply because rabbinic literary talent was harder to come by later in history or was there something complicated about this specific blessing?

Three different aharonim offer the same answer albeit with different nuances. I was not able to look up one of the three because the impressive library near my house does not have the relevant volume of haMedrash vehaMa’aseh of R. Yehezkel Lifschutz. However, I can cite the presentations of R. Kook and R. Soloveitchik. Both point out that our essential requests from God in prayer are full of compassion and love. On behalf of the community, we ask for wisdom, health, sustenance, and the ingathering of the exiles. Composing such blessings poses less of a challenge.

The blessing added to the amida, on the other hand, asks God to destroy our enemies. Praying for another’s destruction raises new issues. R. Kook contends that such a blessing must come from a pure heart motivated by the desire to better the world. If instead, this blessing comes from a place of natural enmity towards enemies, it runs the risk of getting out of hand. Shmuel haKatan was the perfect choice because, as we know from Avot 4:19, the verse “When your enemy falls, do not rejoice” was his most common message. Only he could compose this blessing out of noble motivations and not with the desire for personal vindication over his enemies. [R. Kook’s approach appears both in his Ein Ayah on Berachot and in his commentary on the siddur, Olat Ra’aya]

R. Soloveitchik echoes this idea in his eulogy for R. Hayyim Heller (entitled “Pleitat Sofrehem” in Divrei Hagut ve’Ha’arakha). He adds some historical perspective. Even when the Sadducees gained significant influence among the priesthood during the second temple period, the sages did not institute a blessing calling for destruction. They counted on wicked or problematic ideologies to self –destruct and continued to focus their energies on positive goals. After the destruction of the second temple, some enemies of authentic Judaism threatened the entire edifice of Judaism. Suddenly, compassion itself demanded the desire for the enemies’ devastation. Composing this blessing proved a challenge that only Shmuel haKatan could meet.

Why did Shmuel haKatan struggle the following year? R. Kook says that it was not because of a difficulty in remembering the words but rather because he struggled to maintain the same purity of heart in facing enemies that he had achieved when he first wrote the words of this blessing.

Standing for ideals sometimes demands that we forcefully fight against other groups and even seek their destruction. Yet these moments call for far greater caution and carry far thornier dangers than situations where we emphasize compassion and love.

[For those curious why Shmuel’s extended pause did not constitute a hefsek (interruption) of the amida, see Pri Hadash Orah Chayyim 65:1 and Pnei Yehishua on Berachot]