The Flood, the Rainbow, and Why Walking with God Doesn’t Promise You a Comfortable Life

 

As I discussed in last week’s post, God doesn’t change, its man that changes. According to the Rambam, a catastrophic flood isn't a result of God  suddenly deciding  to do something new. The world getting wiped out can just be a natural event, the same way the dinosaurs got wiped out by a meteor. Nature does what nature does. God set the order of the world and it keeps running.

What the Torah is teaching is that a person who walks in the ways of God can see something coming and do something about it — whether through actual knowledge, ruach hakodesh, or nevuah. The people who died weren’t specially targeted. They lived like animals. They did whatever felt good instead of following justice and the way God set up the world. That’s what the Torah means by “והלכתם עמי בקרי” — if you live by happenstance, then happenstance hits you. “ויספתי עליכם מכה שבע כחטאתיכם.” You become a victim of whatever nature throws at you.

A person who is actually trying to live according to the middot built into creation is different. He’s constantly thinking about how the world works and what justice looks like, so he ends up either saving himself or the people around him from pure chance. That’s the point of the ship example the Rambam gives in the Moreh (3:17). The ship going down is chance — a natural event. But the fact that certain people got on that ship isn’t just chance. It’s tied to the choices they made. (Rambam’s own brother drowned at sea, so this isn’t an abstract example for him.)

Rambam puts it like this: in the world, individual providence only really applies to humans. Everything else happens by chance, the way Aristotle described. Providence is connected to the intellectual influence that reaches a person. The more of that someone has, the more protected they are. The less they have, the more they’re left to chance — “like the beasts.” This is the meaning according to the Rambam of "הכל בידי שמים חוץ מיראת שמים".

So Noah is the story of someone who wasn’t living by keri. Through prophecy, he saw what was coming and built the ark. Even the Ramban says the rainbow itself always existed as a natural thing — sunlight on moist air does that. It wasn’t a brand-new creation. Noah, through prophecy, turned an existing natural phenomenon into the symbol that this particular kind of destruction wouldn’t happen again. Or maybe the deeper point of the rainbow is that from now on people would start moving toward knowing God (Abraham and onward) by looking at nature and finding God in how the world actually works, and that would be what prevents another total wipeout.

There’s a caveat here, though, for anyone who thinks that walking in God’s ways means wealth, success, and personal physical happiness as the end result. That’s not necessarily true. Noah walked with God and still lost his entire society. He was traumatized enough that he got drunk and lost control. The Rambam’s whole framework makes this make sense. Providence isn’t a promise of comfort or material reward. It’s tied to the intellectual attachment and the drive to know God’s ways in the world. When someone follows that, personal needs start to matter less — or, on a higher level, there’s a kind of abandonment to God’s will as it plays out in creation. The real need becomes the survival and betterment of society and the world.

Just look at Noah: he preserved the physical continuation of mankind. Or Moshe, the greatest prophet who ever lived — he changed how the world thinks and practices for eternity, toward the eventual realization of the unity of God by all of mankind. That’s the higher end of walking in the ways of God. Not a comfortable life for yourself, but something that lasts beyond you.

God doesn’t change. Nature keeps going. What changes is whether a person is close enough to God that he’s not just another body in the path of whatever happens next — and whether he’s willing to put the world ahead of his own ease. That’s the whole story, and that’s what the rainbow is pointing to.

If every leaf falls by the decree of God, the commandments make no sense...

If God controls everything — even which leaf falls and exactly where it lands — and if the wind does not blow by chance but only because God moves it, then it is not the wind that makes the leaf fall. Each leaf falls by God’s decree. On that view there is no freedom of choice, and everything is predestined. Every movement of an animal is preordained and no one has the power to do or to refrain from doing anything. 

But then there is no point to revelation, or to the Torah’s commandments, which assume we can choose. That is why this picture is not the rational Jewish view. Free choice is foundational; without it, command, reward, and punishment lose their sense.

Something to keep in mind as we read this week about God creating the world. For more on the Torah’s view of hashgacha see the Rambam in MN 3:17.

The Torah demands we know one God. So why is His name in creation plural?

 

It always bothered me reading Elohim in the Torah. The word is plural. Why would a Torah that demands we know and believe in one unique God use a plural name for the Creator of the world — בראשית ברא אלהים?

Shadal has a good answer. The pagans believed in many powers, each ruling its own realm. Greek gods of thunder, of water, and so on. Christianity still has the devil ruling hell. Judaism, he says, used the plural on purpose: our God is not one power among others. He rules all of creation. There is no division.

His words:

אלהים: אל ואיל לשון כח וחוזק, ואלהים לשון רבים, והיה נוהג אצל האומות העובדות אלילים (כוזרי מאמר ד' סימן א'), והיו קוראים כן כל כחות הטבע, אשר הם סיבות המאורעות בארץ, והיו עובדים את כולם, וכל א' מהם יהיה להם לאלוה, ואמנם העברים בעלי היחוד קיימו שם זה בלשון רבים להורות, כי האל אשר הם עובדים איננו כח פרטי אחד, כמו שהיו הגוים אומרים אלהי הרים ה' ולא אלהי עמקים הוא (מ"א כ' כ"ח), אבל הוא קיבוץ כל הכחות ובעל הכחות כולם (וכיוצא בזה מילות ימים עיין למטה פסוק י'), כן קראו אותו בשם צבאות לומר שהוא עצמו כולל כחות כל צבאות השמים שהיו הגוים עובדים, עיין פירושי

Translation-

"El and Eil mean power and strength. Elohim is the plural. The idolaters used it for the forces of nature, and worshipped each one. The Hebrews, who hold God’s unity, kept the plural to say the opposite: the God they serve is not a local power, the way the nations said “the Lord is a god of the mountains but not a god of the valleys” (I Kings 20:28). He is the sum of every power, and master of them all. Same reason they called Him Tzevaot. He includes the hosts of heaven the nations worshipped."

The Rambam comes at the word differently. In the Guide (1:2) Elohim means God, angels, and judges. An angel is a messenger — a force of nature, a prophet, or a person carrying out God’s will (Guide 2:6). Miracles, for him, were planted in things at creation (Commentary on Avot 5:6; Guide 2:29). God does not later change His mind or suspend the decree. Providence works the same way. God does not come down, shift mood, and cancel the פורענויות. It follows a person’s connection to Him (Guide 3:17–18). We are the ones who change. By imitatio Dei, and by living the Torah, a person can behave, judge and rule in a godly manner. That is why Elohim is the name used for creation. Only by studying creation, and the will of God in it, does someone become a proper ruler(either over himself or others) and judge. That is tzelem Elokim.

We say every morning, ויעמידם לעד לעולם חק נתן ולא יעבור (Psalms 148:6). אמת ויציב says the same thing, and says who it is for: על אבותינו ועלינו, על בנינו ועל דורותינו, ועל כל דורות זרע ישראל… אמת ואמונה חק ולא יעבור. The rules of nature do not change, and they are not violated. The promise to the Avot is the same kind of decree. They imitated the will of God in creation. The generations that keep doing so do not drop out of history. The promise does not get revised. We go on, a people and a nation in sync with the will of God in creation. Both God and Tzelem Elohim will go on together hand in hand  throughout eternity

From Altar Fire to Kedusha: How “Kadosh” Began as Burning

 

Interesting Shadal on this past week’s parsha, Ki Teitzei (Devarim 22:9), on the pasuk of kilayim — which also appears in tomorrow’s daf:

ט לֹא־תִזְרַע כַּרְמְךָ כִּלְאָיִם פֶּן־תִּקְדַּשׁ הַמְלֵאָה הַזֶּרַע אֲשֶׁר תִּזְרָע וּתְבוּאַת הַכָּרֶם

“You shall not sow your vineyard with mixed seeds, lest the fullness of the seed that you sow and the produce of the vineyard become kadosh.”

The Gemara in Kiddushin 56b learns פן תקדש homiletically as פן תוקד אש — “lest it be burned by fire.” The Torah uses this language because the produce is forbidden for benefit and is to be destroyed by burning.

Shadal (on Shemot 15:11) uses this same Gemara to extend the idea further. He suggests that the term kodesh originally derived from קד אש / יקוד אש (“burning of fire”), referring first to the korbanot that were burned on the altar. From there the word was extended to anything from which one may not derive benefit, and eventually to anything set apart for God.

I would like to take this idea one step further in our parsha, with the prohibition of prostitution among the daughters of Israel (23:18):

לֹא־תִהְיֶה קְדֵשָׁה מִבְּנוֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל

“There shall be no kedeshah among the daughters of Israel.”

The commentaries (including Shadal) explain that female cultic prostitution was a common pagan form of worship: the wages were donated to the gods in the form of sacrifices to be burned on the altar. The Torah is warning against this type of “service” to Hashem — which is why the very next verse forbids bringing the wages of a prostitute as a sacrifice. This fits beautifully with the idea that kadosh originally meant something burned on the altar.

Interestingly, a bat kohen who commits adultery is punished by burning (Vayikra 21:9). Perhaps this is another reason the term kedeshah appears in discussions connected to sacrifices.

We can take this even further and see a hint to the story of Tamar and Yehuda. After acting as a prostitute, Tamar is accused of infidelity and brought out to be burned

 (Bereishit 38:24). Notice the language Yehuda uses when searching for her:

אַיֵּה הַקְּדֵשָׁה הִוא בָעֵינַיִם עַל־הַדָּרֶךְ וַיֹּאמְרוּ לֹא־הָיְתָה בָזֶה קְדֵשָׁה

“Where is the kedeshah who was at Enaim by the roadside?” And they said, “There was no kedeshah here.”

Taking this to another level: when we pray in the Amidah אַתָּה קָדוֹשׁ — it means “You are separate (holy),” but according to Shadal’s understanding it can also mean “to You we burn our sacrifices.” וּשְׁמְךָ קָדוֹשׁ — “and Your name is holy,” or “to Your name we offer sacrifices” (perhaps alluding to the times when the Kohen Gadol pronounced the Name during the Yom Kippur offerings).

And וּקְדוֹשִׁים בְּכָל־יוֹם יְהַלְּלוּךָ סֶּלָה — this too can refer to the priests, Levites, and Israelites who recited prayers over the sacrifices.

In fact, when we quote from Isaiah קָדוֹשׁ קָדוֹשׁ קָדוֹשׁ, perhaps it alludes to the tamid of the morning, the tamid of the afternoon, and the burning of the eimurim at night — which correspond to our three daily prayers.

This fits nicely with the seraphim earlier in Isaiah, which can also mean the “burners” of the sacrifices — the kohanim. When we say in the Musaf Kedusha כְּסוֹד שִׂיחַ שַׂרְפֵי קֹדֶשׁ הַמְקַדְּשִׁים שִׁמְךָ בַּקֹּדֶשׁ, it can once again be speaking of the sacrifices-the ones that speak over the burning of the sacrifices. 

The prophecy of Isaiah makes much more sense in this light, and it explains why Chazal incorporated these verses into our prayers — in memory of the Temple and its sacrifices. Time to view every mention of קדוש in a new light...

From War Spoils to the Throne of Glory: A Deeper Look at Today’s Daf

 

At the end of today’s daf (Chullin 88b) and continuing into tomorrow’s (89a), the Gemara teaches:

אָמַר רָבָא:

בִּשְׂכַר שֶׁאָמַר אַבְרָהָם אָבִינוּ

״אִם מִחוּט וְעַד שְׂרוֹךְ נַעַל״,

זָכוּ בָּנָיו לִשְׁתֵּי מִצְוֹת:

לְחוּט שֶׁל תְּכֵלֶת, וּרְצוּעָה שֶׁל תְּפִילִּין.

Rava said:

As reward for what our Patriarch Abraham said —

“That I will not take a thread nor a shoe-strap…” (Genesis 14:23) —

his descendants merited two mitzvot:

the thread of techelet and the strap of tefillin.

The Gemara continues:

בִּשְׁלָמָא רְצוּעָה שֶׁל תְּפִילִּין… אֶלָּא חוּט שֶׁל תְּכֵלֶת מַאי הִיא?

Granted, the strap of tefillin makes sense… But what is the special quality of the techelet thread?

דְּתַנְיָא, רַבִּי מֵאִיר אוֹמֵר:

מָה נִשְׁתַּנָּה תְּכֵלֶת מִכׇּל הַצִּבְעוֹנִין?

מִפְּנֵי שֶׁתְּכֵלֶת דּוֹמֶה לַיָּם,

וְיָם דּוֹמֶה לָרָקִיעַ,

וְרָקִיעַ דּוֹמֶה לְאֶבֶן סַפִּיר,

וְאֶבֶן סַפִּיר דּוֹמֶה לְכִסֵּא הַכָּבוֹד…

As it was taught in a baraita, Rabbi Meir says:

Why is techelet different from all other colors?

Because techelet resembles the sea,

the sea resembles the sky,

the sky resembles sapphire,

and sapphire resembles the Throne of Glory…

(Source: Chullin 89a)

On the surface, this seems strange. What is the connection between Abraham refusing the spoils of war after rescuing Lot and the mitzvot of techelet and tefillin?

I understand this Gemara as an expression of the core Jewish idea of imitatio Dei — “and you shall walk in His ways” (והלכת בדרכיו).

Abraham recognized the Creator, the First Cause of existence. As the Rambam describes in hus MT Yesodei HaTorah, once a person truly apprehends God, he naturally seeks to know Him by imitating His ways. That is why Abraham is remembered above all for gemilut chasadim — acts of kindness — a quality he learned by imitating God.

In the war of the kings, the balance of society was shattered. Injustice was done: hostages were taken, freedom was stolen, and property was seized. Abraham corrected that imbalance. He restored people and property to their rightful owners — and then refused to take even a single thread or sandal-strap as reward. He wanted the restoration to be pure. He would not introduce any new imbalance of self-interest. In doing so, he participated in rebalancing the world, just as God maintains balance and order throughout creation.

The Gemara is teaching a powerful lesson: this very religious ideal that Abraham pioneered — imitatio Dei — is embodied in the mitzvot we wear.

Tefillin reminds us (and those who see us) that we are called to imitate God’s ways in the world.

Techelet trains the eye and the mind to look deeper into creation until we reach the “Throne of Glory.”

According to the Rambam, the “Throne” is not a physical seat. In Guide for the Perplexed (Part I, Chapter 9) he writes:

“The original meaning of the word kisse (‘throne’) requires no comment… The term is used… to denote the rank, greatness, and authority of a person… When applied to God it signifies His greatness and majesty… not that the Omnipotent, Supreme God is supported by any material object.”

For the Rambam, the Throne represents God’s sovereign control and the ordered plan He implanted in creation. When we look at the techelet on our tzitzit, we are invited to contemplate that very plan — and to strive, in our own small way, to imitate it through lives of justice, balance, and integrity.

Abraham restored justice without taking anything for himself.

We wear the symbols of that act every day.

The Shema Teaching That Almost Made Me a Heretic – And What the Rambam Really Meant by ‘Echad’

 

I remember when I was a kid, I was taught that when saying Shema, while pronouncing the word אחד in the first verse, I should have the following in mind:

א = one God

ח = over the 7 skies and 1 earth

ד = the 4 corners of the world

The original source for this idea is the Gemara TB Berachot 13B. The Shulchan Aruch OC 61:6 also brings this idea down in the name of the Tur.Though both are not really exactly in the above format.

As I got older, this became very problematic. First of all, describing God literally as “one” in a purely numerical sense can limit Him. Adding “7 skies and 1 earth” plus “4 corners of the world” further confines Him — not to mention the outdated idea that the world is flat. Holding these thoughts while reciting Shema could almost lead a person to a limited or even heretical conception of God.

As I matured, I began to understand that one must be interpreted as,"God as unique" — nothing can be compared to Him.

Then I studied Hilchot Keriat Shema in the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah. Here are his words, followed by the Sefaria translation:

וּמַה הוּא קוֹרֵא, שְׁלֹשָׁה פָּרָשִׁיּוֹת. אֵלּוּ הֵן (דברים ו ד) ״שְׁמַע״ (דברים יא יג) ״וְהָיָה אִם שָׁמֹעַ״ (במדבר טו לז) ״וַיֹּאמֶר״. וּמַקְדִּימִין לִקְרוֹת פָּרָשַׁת שְׁמַע מִפְּנֵי שֶׁיֵּשׁ בָּהּ יִחוּד הַשֵּׁם וְאַהֲבָתוֹ וְתַלְמוּדוֹ שֶׁהוּא הָעִקָּר הַגָּדוֹל שֶׁהַכֹּל תָּלוּי בּוֹ. וְאַחֲרֶיהָ וְהָיָה אִם שָׁמֹעַ שֶׁיֵּשׁ בָּהּ צִוּוּי עַל (זְכִירַת) שְׁאָר כָּל הַמִּצְוֹת. וְאַחַר כָּךְ פָּרָשַׁת (במדבר טו לח) ״צִיצִית״ שֶׁגַּם הִיא יֵשׁ בָּהּ צִוּוּי זְכִירַת כָּל הַמִּצְוֹת:

"And what is it that one recites? These three sections:

"Hear O Israel..." (Deuteronomy 6:4-9),

"And if you will listen..." (Deuteronomy 11:13-21), and

"And God said..." (Numbers 15:37-41).

We begin with the section of "Hear O Israel" since it contains [the concept of] the unity of God, [the commandment of] loving Him and the study of Torah, it being a fundamental principle upon which everything is based.

After it, [we read] "And if you will listen...," since it contains the imperative to fulfill the rest of the commandments, and finally the portion of tzitzit, since it also contains the imperative of remembering all the commandments.

https://www.sefaria.org/Mishneh_Torah,_Reading_the_Shema.1.2

I believe Sefaria is incorrectly translating תלמודו as “the study of Torah.” This is a mistake.

The first part of the Rambam makes perfect sense: by reciting Shema one contemplates the unity (or uniqueness) of God — that nothing can be compared to Him — which then leads to love of God. As the Rambam writes in Yesodei HaTorah:

בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁיִּתְבּוֹנֵן הָאָדָם בְּמַעֲשָׂיו וּבְרוּאָיו הַנִּפְלָאִים הַגְּדוֹלִים, וְיִרְאֶה מֵהֶם חָכְמָתוֹ שְׁאֵין לָהּ עֵרֶךְ וְלֹא קֵץ--מִיָּד הוּא אוֹהֵב וּמְשַׁבֵּחַ וּמְפָאֵר וּמִתְאַוֶּה תַּאֲוָה גְּדוֹלָה לֵידַע הַשֵּׁם הַגָּדוֹל, כְּמוֹ שֶׁאָמַר דָּוִיד "צָמְאָה נַפְשִׁי, לֵאלֹהִים--לְאֵל חָי" (תהילים מב,ג).

"When a person contemplates His deeds and His wondrous and great creations, and sees in them His wisdom that has no measure or end, he immediately loves, praises, and glorifies Him, and is filled with a great desire to know the great Name, as David said: “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (Psalms 42:3)."

When one thinks about God and His uniqueness, that naturally leads to love. But what about תַלְמוּדוֹ? How does thinking about God lead specifically to “Talmud”(if we translate it like sefaria -learning torah)?

Let’s look in MT Hilchot Talmud Torah 1:12  to see how the Rambam understands תַלְמוּד:

כֵּיצַד: הָיָה בַּעַל אֻמָּנוּת--יִהְיֶה עוֹסֵק בַּמְּלָאכָה שָׁלוֹשׁ שָׁעוֹת בַּיּוֹם, וּבַתּוֹרָה תֵּשַׁע: אוֹתָן הַתֵּשַׁע--קוֹרֵא בְּשָׁלוֹשׁ מֵהֶן, בְּתוֹרָה שֶׁבִּכְתָב; וּבְשָׁלוֹשׁ, בְּתוֹרָה שֶׁבְּעַל פֶּה; וּבְשָׁלוֹשׁ, מִתְבּוֹנֵן בְּדַעְתּוֹ לְהָבִין דָּבָר מִדָּבָר. וְדִבְרֵי קַבָּלָה, בִּכְלַל תּוֹרָה שֶׁבִּכְתָב הֶן; וּפֵרוּשָׁן, בִּכְלַל תּוֹרָה שֶׁבְּעַל פֶּה; וְהָעִנְיָנוֹת הַנִּקְרָאִין פַּרְדֵּס, בִּכְלַל הַתַּלְמוּד.

"How is the above expressed? A person who is a craftsman may spend three hours each day involved in his work, and [devote] nine hours to Torah study: In those nine hours, he should spend three reading the Written Law; three, the Oral Law; and three, meditating with his intellect to derive one concept from another.

The “words of the prophetic tradition” are considered part of the Written Law; and their explanation, part of the Oral Law. The matters referred to as Pardes are considered part of the Talmud."

According to the Rambam, Talmud means Pardes (and not specifically learning torah)— the study of esoteric thought, the sciences, and the nature of God. As he writes in Yesodei HaTorah:

ד,כ [יג] וְעִנְיְנֵי אַרְבָּעָה פְּרָקִים אֵלּוּ שֶׁבְּחָמֵשׁ מִצְווֹת הָאֵלּוּ--הֶם שֶׁחֲכָמִים הָרִאשׁוֹנִים קוֹרְאִין אוֹתָן פַּרְדֵּס, כְּמוֹ שֶׁאָמְרוּ אַרְבָּעָה נִכְנְסוּ לַפַּרְדֵּס: וְאַף עַל פִּי שֶׁגְּדוֹלֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל הָיוּ וַחֲכָמִים גְּדוֹלִים הָיוּ, לֹא כֻּלָּם הָיָה בָּהֶן כּוֹחַ לֵידַע וּלְהַשִּׂיג כָּל הַדְּבָרִים עַל בָּרְיָן.

"And the subjects of these four chapters that are in these five commandments—they are what the early Sages call Pardes, as they said: “Four entered the Pardes.” And even though they were the great ones of Israel and great sages, not all of them had the power to know and to grasp all the matters thoroughly [in their true nature / as they truly are].

Now the first verse of Shema makes much more sense."

Now the words,of the Rambam are powerful. Twice a day, when we recite this passage, we are meant to force ourselves to contemplate the unity of God — the ultimate Cause of all existence. This contemplation leads to loving Him, and then to continuing that pursuit by seeking a deeper understanding of Him through the study of the world and of God’s relationship (or lack of relationship) to everything that exists. This is the “Talmud” the Rambam is referring to: the highest form of intellectual and spiritual seeking (Pardes).

That is also why that of all the parts of Shema that one must have kavana, the first pasuk of Shema Yisrael etc is a must or one does not fulfill one's obligation 

Unlike the modern popular idea that Torah study is an end in itself, according to this understanding it is actually the opposite. Everything we do and practice is meant to lead us to the fundamental principle of the Shema — the understanding of God, the world, and our relationship to both.

כי אם בזאת יתהלל המתהלל השכל וידע אותי כי אני יהוה עשה חסד משפט וצדקה בארץ כי באלה חפצתי נאם יהוה

Tisha baav

Tonight we read in Eicha that it was the religious leadership that caused the Churban.

Perek 4:

מֵחַטֹּאות נְבִיאֶיהָ עֲוֺנֹת כֹּהֲנֶיהָ הַשֹּׁפְכִים בְּקִרְבָּהּ דַּם צַדִּיקִים׃

“It was for the sins of her prophets,  

The iniquities of her priests,  

Who had shed in her midst  

The blood of the just.”

The very next pesukim show how the remaining religious leaders were in denial even as death and the Churban were taking place. They were still preoccupied with tumah instead of helping their fellow Jews who were being murdered and abused:(disclaimer-this is my own chiddush on how to interpret these next two pasukim)

נָעוּ עִוְרִים בַּחוּצוֹת נְגֹאֲלוּ בַּדָּם בְּלֹא יוּכְלוּ יִגְּעוּ בִּלְבֻשֵׁיהֶם׃

“They wandered blindly through the streets,  

Defiled with blood,  

So that no one was able  

To touch their garments.”

סוּרוּ טָמֵא קָרְאוּ לָמוֹ סוּרוּ סוּרוּ אַל־תִּגָּעוּ כִּי נָצוּ גַּם־נָעוּ אָמְרוּ בַּגּוֹיִם לֹא יוֹסִפוּ לָגוּר׃

“‘Away! Unclean!’ people shouted at them,  

‘Away! Away! Touch not!’  

So they wandered and wandered again;  

For the nations had resolved:  

‘They shall stay here no longer.’”

As a result, midah k’neged midah, the people finally realized the evil of the leadership that caused God’s countenance to abandon them—and therefore they abandoned the leaders:

פְּנֵי יְהֹוָה חִלְּקָם לֹא יוֹסִיף לְהַבִּיטָם פְּנֵי כֹהֲנִים לֹא נָשָׂאוּ וּזְקֵנִים לֹא חָנָנוּ׃

“GOD’s countenance has turned away from them,  

And will look on them no more.  

They showed no regard for priests,  

No favor to elders.”

https://www.sefaria.org/Lamentations.4.16