Understanding “The Torah and God Are One” (Tikunei Zohar 74:1) Through the Rational Lens of Rambam

 

I am definitely not a believer that the Zohar was written by Rashbi, and I do believe that the Zohar — and especially the Arizal — are responsible for many of the problems we are having today, especially with the Chareidim/Chasidim and many of the “voodoo Judaism” rituals that have permeated throughout Orthodox Judaism.

Having said that, this one line from the Tikunei Zohar (74:1) can be beautifully interpreted through the philosophy of the Rambam. Moshe de León (the real author, in my view) was deeply well versed in the Rambam’s writings — he even had a personal copy of the Moreh Nevuchim (Guide for the Perplexed) written specifically for him — and likely had Rambam’s rational ideas in mind.

The Tikunei Zohar (74:1) states:

דאורייתא וקדשא בריך הוא כולא חד

(“The Torah and the Holy One, Blessed Be He, are entirely one.”)

What does this actually mean? Not, God forbid, a literal pantheistic identity where the Torah is God.

According to the Rambam, “Torah” itself is not only the literal text and mitzvot but also the deep rational understanding of God and how He runs the world. The study of physics (ma’aseh bereshit) and metaphysics (ma’aseh merkavah) — what we today call science and philosophy — is itself part of Torah, because these very subjects form the foundation of Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah (the opening section of the Mishneh Torah), where Rambam places them as the core principles for knowing God (see especially chapters 1–4, in which he identifies these sciences as the “secrets of Torah” and explains that contemplating creation and God’s governance leads directly to love and fear of Him).

Only once we have this broad, rational “Torah” do we see how man brings the Divine into reality: through Imitatio Dei — by imitating the divine middot (characteristics) that God embedded in the Torah and mitzvot as the ideal blueprint for life.

When we internalize this Torah and actually live its commandments, our thoughts and behavior become godly. By imitating God’s middot we are perfecting our own thoughts and character, our behavior, society, and the entire world — all by fulfilling Ratzon Elokim (God’s will) with every single thought and action. In this way man truly becomes the “tzel” — the living shadow and reflection — of God in this world.

Rambam supports this powerfully:

In Mishneh Torah, Hilchot De’ot 1:5–6:

“We are commanded to walk in these intermediate paths… as it says, ‘And you shall walk in His ways’ (Deuteronomy 28:9).”

“Just as He is called Gracious, you shall be gracious; just as He is called Merciful, you shall be merciful… 

A person is obligated to accustom himself to these paths and to resemble Him to the extent of his ability.”

In Sefer HaMitzvot, Positive Commandment 8: 

We are commanded to emulate the Holy One to the best of our ability, explained by the Sifrei as: just as God is called merciful, be merciful; just as gracious, be gracious.

And in the climactic final chapter of his masterpiece, Guide for the Perplexed 3:54: After acquiring knowledge of God and His providence, one “will then be determined always to seek lovingkindness, justice, and righteousness and thus to imitate the ways of God.”

Rambam considers all of mankind equal in the sense that they are all individually a Tzelem Elokim and have the same equal potential to meditate (intellectual contemplation of His ways and creation) and imitate God's ways — no one person is more special or holy than another.

Unlike Christianity and many Chareidi and Chasidic sects of Judaism that worship their leaders (both alive and dead), authentic rational Judaism according to the Rambam sees every human being as having this same equal potential.

It’s fascinating to note that ancient idol worshippers often viewed their statues (also called tzelem) not as the gods themselves but as vehicles or shadows meant to channel divine power(see MN 3:29). Judaism completely revolutionizes this idea: Man is the true Tzelem Elokim. Endowed with the unique ability to think abstractly (as Rambam explains in Guide for the Perplexed 1:1, where the image refers to our intellectual form), and by imitating God’s ways while doing His will, man becomes the authentic living shadow and representative of the Divine on earth.

Bottom line: By embodying this broad Torah, man creates the living unity described in the Zohar — דאורייתא וקדשא בריך הוא כולא חד — because by “pulling” the Torah into reality through his thoughts, choices, and actions, God’s will becomes fully present and manifest in man’s inner world, his behavior, and the outcomes he produces in the world around him. The Torah and the Holy One are one through the human being who lives them perfectly.

The "Torah" thus become our greatest opportunity — a dynamic partnership with the Creator to align reality with perfection.

God Shrunk the Moon After It Talked Back… And It Won Big! (Chullin Daf 60)!

 

Tomorrow's daf- in Chullin Daf 60 we learn this powerful Gemara (Chullin 60b):

“The moon said before the Holy One, Blessed be He: Master of the Universe, is it possible for two kings to serve with one crown?

God said to her: ‘If so, go and diminish yourself.’

She said: ‘Master of the Universe, because I said something correct, I must diminish myself?!’

… God said to her: ‘Go; let righteous men be named after you — just as you are called the lesser [hakatan] light, there will be Ya’akov HaKatan, Shmuel HaKatan, and David HaKatan.’

God saw that the moon was not comforted, so the Holy One said: ‘Bring atonement for Me, for I diminished the moon.’”

Most commentaries get stuck on a technical issue with Shmuel and change the text to refer to Shmuel HaKatan the Tanna (not the prophet). I respectfully disagree — because if you do that, you completely miss the explosive message the Gemara is trying to teach us.

Here’s the real point the Gemara is screaming:

Hashem created the world so that man could partner with Him and actually improve creation.

The Moon was originally meant to be the same size as the Sun. But Hashem intentionally made it smaller — so it would reflect the Sun’s light. Why? So that the Jewish people could look up at the sky, see the new moon, and declare:

“This is my moment to sanctify time.”

We built our entire calendar, our holidays, our entire relationship with time around the Moon’s cycle.That’s man taking raw nature and turning it into a holy tool to serve Hashem.

The Gemara then pushes back: “But the Sun also matters — we adjust the calendar so the seasons line up with the festivals!” So what’s the big deal about the Moon being smaller?

And then comes the breathtaking philosophical answer:

Being smaller is not a defect — it’s the secret to greatness.

Look at Yaakov (the younger brother), Shmuel (the servant to Eli), and Dovid (the boy who replaced King Shaul). Each one was the “smaller” one — yet each became the true leader, the one who carried the light forward.

Exactly like the Moon.

The Sun looks powerful, but the Moon — the smaller, humbler one — ends up being the star of Jewish life. It’s the Moon we bless. It’s the Moon that sets our holidays. It’s the Moon that reminds us every month that renewal comes from humility.

That’s exactly why the Torah commands a Jewish king NOT to have a huge army, massive wealth, or many wives — the exact opposite of every other nation.

Instead, the king must write his own Sefer Torah and keep it with him at all times.

Small. Humble. Close to Hashem.

And in that smallness… he becomes like the Moon — quietly shining God’s light to the entire world.

Now comes the most difficult part: What does it mean that God needs atonement? On the surface this sounds completely ridiculous — one could even argue it borders on heresy. But the answer is beautiful: the atonement for God is not literal. Instead, it describes the entire esoteric message of the Aggadah. Man becomes a partner with God in perfecting nature. By bringing the korban, he reminds himself that the world was created in a way that allows man to participate with God in furthering its perfection — both physically, personally, and societally — by observing how God created the world and imitating those ways.

The message for us today?

What looks big, loud, and impressive is not necessarily what represents Hashem.

The real power is in the humble, the reflective, the one who takes what exists and elevates it.

Tzelem in Eternity: Man’s Imitation of the Timeless Creator by Weaving All Three Tenses

 

This Shabbos I completed my annual siyum on Mishnayot — actually seventeen months and three weeks. I’d like to share with you what this completion stirred in me.

In the second part of the Moreh Nevukhim(chapters 13-30), the Rambam explains that time itself is an accident tied to physical bodies and their movement. Because God is not physical, He is not subject to time. Past, present, and future are all one to Him — a single, perfect “now.”

We, the Jewish people, are commanded to draw close to God by studying His ways and imitating His middot. Perhaps that is why the Torah uses the phrase tzelem Elokim precisely at the creation of man. Just as the ancient pagans believed their idols channeled the power of their gods, the Torah tells us that we are the living image through which God’s presence enters the world — not through stone, but through human beings who choose to walk in His ways. By imitating the Creator, each of us, and the Jewish people as a whole, becomes a living shadow and channel of the Divine in daily life.

And this imitation reaches even into the dimension of time.

Look at the structure of the Shemoneh Esrei: we begin with the Avot — the past, the God of our fathers and the covenant they forged. We then turn to our present needs — wisdom, repentance, healing, sustenance, justice. We conclude with the future — thanksgiving, acceptance of our prayer, the rebuilding of Jerusalem, the coming of the redeemer, and Sim Shalom, universal peace. In one standing prayer we weave all three tenses together and stand before the King who experiences them as one.

The same beautiful pattern appears when we learn Mishnayot. We open with Berachot and the practical mitzvot of today — the present. We study the laws of the Temple, purity, and korbanot — the living past. And we are constantly pointed toward the future: the final Mishnah in Uktzin speaks of the World to Come, the reward of the righteous, and peace among the Jewish nation.

It is no coincidence that the Mishnah began to take shape toward the end of the Second Temple period, when the future looked increasingly bleak. Its compilation continued in Yavneh and was completed one hundred and thirty years later—precisely as the nation stood on the brink of exile. In Masechet Yadayim (chapter 4), we still see the Sages of Yavneh deliberating over the very laws of purity and sacrifices that were slipping into the past—yet carefully recording them so the Jewish people could carry their entire heritage into an uncertain future. Thus, the Mishnah was born as a portable Torah, a vessel that would allow us to survive as a nation no matter where history might scatter us.

By learning it, we do more than remember. We imitate the One who is beyond time. We pull past, present, and future into a single holy act — and in that moment we become a little more like the God whose Name itself means “Was, Is, and Will Be.”

May the merit of this siyum — and of all the siyumim we make together — help us continue to walk in His ways, until the day when past, present, and future truly merge in the final redemption, speedily in our days.

You Can Do the Mitzvah of Shechitah Perfectly According to Halacha — But It’s Still Pasul: What We Learn from Chullin and Rambam’s Halachic Psak!

 

This week’s Daf Yomi (Chullin 38–41) contains a powerful teaching that we can learn from how the Rambam paskens/rules on the laws of shechita that feels strikingly relevant to the broader condition of Jewish religious practice in our time.

The Gemara had already discussed shechita of chullin performed without kavanah. Examples include throwing a knife off a wall so that it bounces and slaughters a cow, or slaughtering while preoccupied or in a playful manner. The Rambam rules that the shechita is nevertheless kosher, provided it is executed properly in the correct location and according to the required measure.

In Hilchot Shechita, Perek 2, the Rambam writes:

אֵין שְׁחִיטַת הַחֻלִּין צְרִיכָה כַּוָּנָה; אֵלָא אַפִלּוּ שָׁחַט כְּמִתְעַסֵּק, אוֹ דֶּרֶךְ שְׂחוֹק, אוֹ שֶׁזָּרַק סַכִּין לְנָעְצָהּ בַּכּוֹתָל וְשָׁחֲטָה בַּהֲלִיכָתָהּ--הוֹאִיל וְהַשְּׁחִיטָה כָּרָאוּי בִּמְקוֹמָהּ וְשֵׁעוּרָהּ, הֲרֵי זוֹ כְּשֵׁרָה

Translation:

The slaughter of non-sacred animals does not require intention. Rather, even if one slaughtered while preoccupied with other matters, or in a playful manner, or if one threw a knife to embed it in the wall and it slaughtered the animal in its flight — since the slaughter was performed properly in its place and according to its measure, it is kosher.

The Gemara furtber on addresses a different scenario: a Jew slaughters an animal for a non-Jew (an idolater), and the non-Jew intends the act as a dedication to his god. The ruling is that the shechita remains fully kosher. Another person’s intention — even the owner’s — cannot invalidate the act of the shochet.

The Rambam states in the same perek:

יִשְׂרָאֵל שֶׁשָּׁחַט לְנָכְרִי--אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁהַנָּכְרִי מִתְכַּוֵּן לְכָל מַה שֶׁיִּרְצֶה, שְׁחִיטָתוֹ כְּשֵׁרָה:  שְׁאֵין חוֹשְׁשִׁין אֵלָא לְמַחְשֶׁבֶת הַזּוֹבֵחַ, לֹא לְמַחְשֶׁבֶת בַּעַל הַבְּהֵמָה

Translation:

A Jew who slaughters for a non-Jew — even though the non-Jew intends whatever he wishes, his slaughter is kosher. For we are only concerned with the intention of the slaughterer, not with the intention of the owner of the animal.

However, when the Jew performing the shechita himself harbors a corrupt intention, the result changes completely — even if every technical detail of the shechita is flawless. The Rambam draws a sharp distinction:

If one slaughters while invoking mountains, hills, seas, rivers, or deserts for healing or similar purposes drawn from the foolish beliefs of the nations (without intending to worship them as gods), the shechita is invalid (pasul).

But if one slaughters in the name of the mazal of the sea or the mountain, or for the stars, constellations, and the like, then the animal is prohibited for any benefit whatsoever, just like an offering to avodah zarah.

Here are the Rambam’s words:

הַשּׁוֹחֵט לְשֵׁם הָרִים, לְשֵׁם גְּבָעוֹת, לְשֵׁם יַמִּים, לְשֵׁם נְהָרוֹת, לְשֵׁם מִדְבָּרוֹת--אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁלֹּא נִתְכַּוַּן לְעָבְדָן אֵלָא לִרְפוּאָה וְכַיּוֹצֶא בָּהּ מִדִּבְרֵי הֲבָאי שֶׁאוֹמְרִין הַגּוֹיִים, הֲרֵי שְׁחִיטָתוֹ פְּסוּלָה; אֲבָל אִם שָׁחַט לְשֵׁם מַזַּל הַיָּם, אוֹ מַזַּל הָהָר, אוֹ לַכּוֹכָבִים וְלַמַּזָּלוֹת וְכַיּוֹצֶא בָּהֶן--הֲרֵי זוֹ אֲסוּרָה בַּהֲנָיָה, כְּכָל תִּקְרֹבֶת עֲבוֹדָה זָרָה.

Translation:

One who slaughters in the name of mountains, hills, seas, rivers, or deserts — even though he did not intend to worship them but only for healing and similar things from the foolish words that the nations say — behold, his slaughter is invalid. But if he slaughtered in the name of the constellation of the sea, or the constellation of the mountain, or for the stars and constellations and the like — behold, this is prohibited for benefit, like any offering of idolatry.

To summarize the halachic principles:

No intention on the part of the shochet → still kosher.

Intention on the part of someone else (even the owner, even for idolatry) → still kosher.

Intention on the part of the shochet for superstitious “healing” through natural forces → pasul.

Intention on the part of the shochet for stars, constellations, or idolatrous entities → prohibited for any benefit.

These disqualifications apply even when the knife is perfectly sharpened, the beracha is recited correctly, and all the simanim are severed as required.

The deeper lesson is clear: merely performing the external actions of a mitzvah does not make the deed acceptable before Hashem. Reciting Tehillim while praying to the dead for healing — whether for oneself or for a relative or friend — remains prohibited. Even reciting Tehillim or the Shemoneh Esrei while directing prayers to the dead is problematic. Lighting bonfires while dancing in an ecstatic trance and singing words of Tehillim or of the Rashbi, with the intention that the Rashbi hear and answer one’s prayers, is likewise problematic.

All these acts may appear religious and part of Judaism on the surface, yet they are deeply flawed. This is the same phenomenon we see with the spies, who sincerely believed they were acting religiously by speaking negatively about the Land of Israel — when in reality their actions were evil. The same was true of Korach and his congregation. 

That is why the prophet Isaiah declares in chapter 1:

שִׁמְעוּ דְבַר־יְהוָה, קְצִינֵי סְדֹם; הַאֲזִינוּ תּוֹרַת אֱלֹהֵינוּ, עַם עֲמֹרָה. יא לָמָּה־לִּי רֹב־זִבְחֵיכֶם יֹאמַר יְהוָה, שָׂבַעְתִּי עֹלוֹת אֵילִים וְחֵלֶב מְרִיאִים; וְדַם פָּרִים וּכְבָשִׂים וְעַתּוּדִים, לֹא חָפָצְתִּי. יב כִּי תָבֹאוּ, לֵרָאוֹת פָּנָי--מִי־בִקֵּשׁ זֹאת מִיֶּדְכֶם, רְמֹס חֲצֵרָי. יג לֹא תוֹסִיפוּ, הָבִיא מִנְחַת־שָׁוְא--קְטֹרֶת תּוֹעֵבָה הִיא, לִי; חֹדֶשׁ וְשַׁבָּת קְרֹא מִקְרָא, לֹא־אוּכַל אָוֶן וַעֲצָרָה. יד חָדְשֵׁיכֶם וּמוֹעֲדֵיכֶם שָׂנְאָה נַפְשִׁי, הָיוּ עָלַי לָטֹרַח; נִלְאֵיתִי, נְשֹׂא. טו וּבְפָרִשְׂכֶם כַּפֵּיכֶם, אַעְלִים עֵינַי מִכֶּם--גַּם כִּי־תַרְבּוּ תְפִלָּה, אֵינֶנִּי שֹׁמֵעַ: יְדֵיכֶם, דָּמִים מָלֵאוּ

Translation:

Hear the word of the LORD, you rulers of Sodom; give ear to the teaching of our God, you people of Gomorrah!

“To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices to Me?” says the LORD. “I am sated with burnt offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts; I have no delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats. When you come to appear before Me, who has required this at your hand, to trample My courts? Bring no more vain offerings; incense is an abomination to Me. New moon and Sabbath, the calling of assemblies — I cannot bear iniquity together with solemn assembly. Your new moons and your appointed seasons My soul hates; they have become a burden to Me; I am weary of bearing them. When you spread forth your hands, I will hide My eyes from you; even when you offer many prayers, I will not hear — your hands are full of blood.”

Outwardly the jews were performing acts of worship and sacrifice, yet because the intentions were corrupt and the accompanying behaviors evil, Hashem declares them repulsive.

We see the identical dynamic with the Chareidim in Eretz Yisrael. On the outside their conduct looks religious — they learn Torah all day. Their leaders and rabbis look and act religious in their appearance, age and serious demeaner. Yet the chillul Hashem they cause is anything but religious. That they encourage and insist that healthy young men refuse to participate in the labor market and  the defense of their country (and their fellow Jews), while instead consuming valuable national resources to sustain their lifestyle, is disgusting to Hashem. That they can justify hatred of Zionism and the Jewish state by building an entire movement on the basis of an aggadah is abhorrent to Him.

Anyone who supports these individuals may believe they are performing a great mitzvah by sustaining “Torah learners.” In truth, they are no different from the shochet who sharpens his knife according to halacha, recites the beracha, and severs all the proper simanim with precision — yet directs his intention toward the wrong “god.” Such a shechita is pasul, and it is prohibited to derive any benefit from it.

Rambam’s Bombshell for Every Observant Jew: “Miracle-Based Belief Has a Serious Defect” – The Shocking Truth of Matan Torah!

What is really so special about Matan Torah? Every religion has a foundational experience that its followers claim makes their religion unique. So what makes the Matan Torah experience so central to Judaism?

The Kabbalists speak of Tzimtzum, that God had to shrink Himself, so to speak, to make room for creation. Some anti-Zionists demand revealed miracles before they will return to Jewish governance in the Land of Israel. The Rambam, however, teaches that it is not miracles or philosophical paradoxes that make us Jews or ground our belief in God and His Torah.

Instead, it is about human beings bringing God into this world through our own actions. God does not become part of our reality unless we draw Him in — by ascending the spiritual ladder through deep thinking, meditation on His ways in creation, and changing ourselves by imitating Him. This is the true meaning of B'tzelem Elokim. Just as a shadow follows a person wherever he goes, so too we are the shadow of God in this world through Imitatio Dei.

Just as the Avot were permanently transformed — their outlook and destiny completely changed through their intimate connection with God — and just as Moshe Rabbeinu became an entirely different person with a new destiny after the Burning Bush, so too the experience of Matan Torah changed the Jewish people forever. At Sinai we transformed not only ourselves, but the destiny of all our descendants for eternity.

Shavuot reminds us of this sacred process: the journey from Yetziat Mitzrayim to Matan Torah, when the entire Jewish nation experienced prophecy together. It serves as a microcosm of the future era when the whole world will recognize that Hashem is One and the world will be filled with peace, justice, and the knowledge of God — as Maimonides describes in Hilchot Melachim.

Maimonides explains the unique importance of Shavuot in the Guide for the Perplexed (3:43):

The Feast of Weeks is the anniversary of the Revelation on Mount Sinai. In order to raise the importance of this day, we count the days that pass since the preceding festival, just as one who expects his most intimate friend on a certain day counts the days and even the hours. This is the reason why we count the days that pass since the offering of the Omer, between the anniversary of our departure from Egypt and the anniversary of the Lawgiving. The latter was the aim and object of the exodus from Egypt, as it is said: "I brought you to Myself."

He further teaches why our belief rests on Sinai rather than miracles (Mishneh Torah, Foundations of the Torah 8:1):

The Jews did not believe in Moses, our teacher, because of the wonders that he performed. Whenever anyone's belief is based on wonders, there is a shortcoming in his heart... What is the source of our belief in him? The revelation at Mount Sinai. Our eyes saw, and not a stranger's. Our ears heard, and not another's.

Finally, his vision of the Messianic future (Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 12:5):

In that era, there will be neither famine nor war, envy nor competition, for good will flow in abundance and all the delights will be freely available as dust. The occupation of the entire world will be solely to know God. Therefore, the Jews will be great sages and know the hidden matters, grasping the knowledge of their Creator according to the full extent of human potential, as it is stated: "For the earth shall be full of the knowledge of God, as the waters cover the sea."

Chag Shavuot Sameach. May we merit to bring more of the Divine presence into our world through our actions this Shavuot and always.

Lag Ba’Omer “Voodoo Judaism Day”!

 

Very apropos that on this Erev Lag Ba’Omer — the “Voodoo Judaism Day” when crowds rush to visit the dead and pray to deceased tzadikim (or, giving them the benefit of the doubt, merely ask the tzadikim to intercede and change God’s mind) so they can have children, wealth, and happiness — we are learning today’s daf in Chullin, daf 4 amud bet.

The gemara focuses on the word ויסיתהו (“entice”) as part of the Gemara’s core discussion about whether a mumar who worships idols can still be trusted with shechita.

For our Lag Ba’Omer conversation, I want to zero in on the ויסיתהו (“entice”) section.

The Gemara teaches that enticing someone is normally done with food and drink. (That’s probably why so many business deals are closed over lunch or dinner.) To prove the point, the Gemara brings several examples where the word always appears in the context of food-based enticement.

One classic case: when a person entices his friend to worship idols. The Gemara concludes that this, too, is typically done with food and alcohol. Maybe that’s why the Lag Ba’Omer and Uman “visits to the dead” parties almost always revolve around food and alcohol… :)

The Gemara then challenges this rule with the story of Iyov. The pasuk says about Satan (Iyov 2:3):

ותסיתני בו לבלעו חנם

(“You enticed Me against him to destroy him for no reason.”)

God is criticizing Satan for enticing Him to test Iyov with all kinds of yissurim (sufferings).

The Gemara immediately asks: Did Satan eat food and drink alcohol with God?! Obviously not. Therefore the Gemara answers that when the Torah speaks about God, its language is never literal. This is simply an exception.

The Ritva sharpens the point: the very concept of hasatah (enticement) cannot even apply to God, because God cannot be enticed.

So the big question remains: Why did the author of Iyov use the term “entice” about God in the first place? If God’s mind cannot be changed or enticed, why choose a word that could mislead the literal reader?

I believe the answer lies in the approach of the Rambam. The entire story of Iyov is allegorical. It is teaching a deep Jewish philosophical truth: real happiness is not found in physical pleasures — the very thing Satan represents. The narrative shows this by stripping Iyov of everything physical — wealth, children, family — forcing him to turn inward toward yedias Hashem (knowledge of God) through meditation and contemplation.

 Only through that painful process did Iyov reach perfection. When he eventually received back his riches and family, they were no longer primary; walking in the ways of God had become the true foundation of his life.

That is what God is telling Satan with the words ותסיתני (“you enticed Me”): “You enticed Me against him to swallow Iyov needlessly.” Had Iyov not been so attached to his physical desires, wealth, and needs from the beginning (enticement with food and drink represents the physical pleasures), none of this painful process would have been necessary. He could have reached the goal immediately — if only his priorities had been correct from the start.

It is only when a person is unhappy with what he has that he goes searching for meaning to fill the void. In Judaism, yedias Hashem — achieved by walking in God’s ways — is what actually brings us there.

That should be  the real Lag Ba’Omer lesson.

Asking the dead (or asking the dead to ask God) for our physical needs — believing they can convince a God who, by definition, does not change — is ultimately serving ourselves.

The authentic Jewish path is the opposite: we change ourselves, not God, so that we can serve Him better and walk in His ways.

The Hidden Meaning Behind Rambam’s Milah Blessing That Only Malbim Saw!

 

I have always had difficulty reconciling the Rambam’s statement in Hilchot Milah, Chapter 3, where he discusses the circumcision of a convert and writes the following:

הַמָּל אֶת הַגֵּרִים--מְבָרֵךְ בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְווֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ לָמוּל אֶת הַגֵּרִים וּלְהַטִּיף מֵהֶן דַּם בְּרִית, שֶׁאִלְמָלֵא דַּם בְּרִית, לֹא נִתְקַיְּמוּ שָׁמַיִם וָאָרֶץ:  שֶׁנֶּאֱמָר "אִם-לֹא בְרִיתִי יוֹמָם וָלָיְלָה--חֻקּוֹת שָׁמַיִם וָאָרֶץ, לֹא-שָׂמְתִּי" (ירמיהו לג,כה)

Translation: One who circumcises converts recites the following blessing: “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to circumcise converts and to draw from them the blood of the covenant. For were it not for the blood of the covenant, heaven and earth would not endure.” As it is stated: “If My covenant with day and night were not, if I had not established the laws of heaven and earth…” (Jeremiah 33:25).

What makes this surprising is that in Moreh Nevuchim the Rambam explicitly does not hold that the world was created for the sake of man. On the contrary, he teaches that the world came into existence solely through the goodness and will of God, and humanity is simply one small part of that vast creation. In Moreh Nevuchim III:12 he writes (Friedlander translation):

“It is of great advantage that man should know his station, and not erroneously imagine that the whole universe exists only for him… For an ignorant man believes that the whole universe only exists for him; as if nothing else required any consideration.”

He emphasizes that each creature exists for its own purpose (or for the perfection of the whole), not as a means to serve man. The celestial spheres, for example, are far superior to humanity in the hierarchy of being. So why, in the context of milah—and especially the milah of a convert—does the Rambam invoke these verses from Jeremiah to imply that heaven and earth endure because of the covenant (a statement that appears, at first glance, to place man at the center of creation)?

While flying back from overseas yesterday, I came across the Malbim’s commentary on these very verses in Yirmiyahu 33:25. I believe the Malbim had this exact difficulty with the Rambam in mind when he wrote it. Here are his words:

כה אמר ה' אם לא בריתי — ר"ל אם יצוייר שלא יהיה עוד ברית היום והלילה במציאות, ואם יצוייר שחקות שמים וארץ לא שמתי, שיתבטלו חקי הטבע והשמים והארץ כאילו לא שמתי אותם, אז יצוייר שגם זרע יעקב ודוד עבדי אמאס (כי שתי הבריתות מוכרחות למציאות ומהלך השלמות הכללי). ור"ל מקחת מזרע יעקב מושלים אל זרע אברהם יצחק, ומזרע דוד מושלים אל זרע יעקב, שזרע דוד ימשול על זרע יעקב, וזרע יעקב ימשול על בני ישמעאל ועשו.

Translation: “Thus says the Lord: ‘If My covenant…’” — Meaning: If one could imagine that the covenant of day and night would no longer exist in reality, and if one could imagine that I had not established the laws of heaven and earth (so that the laws of nature, the heavens, and the earth would be nullified as though I had never set them), then one could likewise imagine that I would also reject the seed of Jacob and My servant David (for these two covenants are indispensable for existence and for the general course of perfection in the world). In other words, just as rulers are taken from the seed of Jacob to rule over the seed of Abraham and Isaac, and rulers from the seed of David to rule over the seed of Jacob—so that the seed of David will rule over the seed of Jacob, and the seed of Jacob will rule over the children of Ishmael and Esau.

With the Malbim’s explanation, the Rambam’s words flow beautifully and no longer contradict his philosophy in the Moreh. The Rambam is saying that just as God established the immutable laws of nature and never violates them, so too His promises to the prophets (and to the Avot) are equally inviolable. Both truths stand together, hand in hand. When a convert undergoes milah and joins the Jewish people, he is affirming this very belief—that God does not retract His vows, whether they concern the natural order or the prophetic covenants. Even more strikingly, the Malbim uses King David—who himself descended from a convert (Ruth the Moabite)—as one of his central examples...