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

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...

Do we truly have free will? And what dors it mean that God descends into exile with us? Parsaht Vayigash

 Do We Truly Have Free Will? And What Does It Mean That God "Descends" Into Exile With Us?

In this week's parsha, Vayigash, a profound mystery unfolds when Yosef reveals himself to his brothers. He declares (Bereishit 45:7-8):

וַיִּשְׁלָחֵ֤נִי אֱלֹהִים֙ לִפְנֵיכֶ֔ם לָשׂ֥וּם לָכֶ֛ם שְׁאֵרִ֖ית בָּאָ֑רֶץ וּלְהַחֲי֣וֹת לָכֶ֔ם לִפְלֵיטָ֖ה גְּדֹלָֽה׃

"God sent me before you to make for you a remnant in the land, and to preserve life for you, that there be many survivors."

וְעַתָּ֗ה לֹֽא־אַתֶּ֞ם שְׁלַחְתֶּ֤ם אֹתִי֙ הֵ֔נָּה כִּ֖י הָאֱלֹהִ֑ים וַיְשִׂימֵ֨נִֽי לְאָ֜ב לְפַרְעֹ֗ה וּלְאָדוֹן֙ לְכׇל־בֵּית֔וֹ וּמֹשֵׁ֖ל בְּכׇל־אֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם׃

"And now, it was not you who sent me here, but God; He set me as father to Paroh and master of all his house, and ruler throughout all of the land of Egypt."

These words are startling. After all, it was the brothers who sold Yosef into slavery. It was Yosef's own choices—his integrity in Potiphar's house, his interpretation of dreams—that propelled him from prison to palace. So what is Yosef truly saying? Is he denying human free will (bechirah chofshit), suggesting we are mere puppets in God's grand design?

Later in the parsha, God appears to Yaakov in a night vision, reassuring him about the descent to Egypt (Bereishit 46:4):

אָנֹכִ֗י אֵרֵ֤ד עִמְּךָ֙ מִצְרַ֔יְמָה וְאָנֹכִ֖י אַֽעַלְךָ֣ גַם־עָלֹ֑ה וְיוֹסֵ֕ף יָשִׁ֥ית יָד֖וֹ עַל־עֵינֶֽיךָ׃

"I will go down to Egypt with you and I will also surely bring you up, and Yosef will set his hands upon your eyes."

Judaism emphatically rejects any notion of God having a physical form or descending literally into the world. So what does this divine "descent" mean? It powerfully echoes Yaakov's earlier dream of the ladder, with angels—messengers of God—ascending and descending, symbolizing an unbroken connection between heaven and earth.

Remarkably, these two puzzles share a single, profound resolution—one that illuminates the Jewish understanding of free will, divine providence (hashgachah), and how we carry God's presence into exile.

The Rambam, in Moreh Nevuchim 2:48, unveils a mind-expanding principle: Every event in the universe traces back through a chain of causes to the ultimate First Cause—God Himself. Prophets and the Torah therefore often attribute events directly to God as the ultimate source, even when intermediate causes (natural laws, chance, or human choices) are at play.

With unusual urgency, the Rambam urges readers to pay closer attention here than anywhere else in the Guide. He illustrates this using Yosef's story twice:

- For voluntary human choices: Yosef's words, "It was not you who sent me here, but God" (45:8).

- For chance events: "God sent me before you" (45:7).

Free will is not illusory—it is part of God's creation—yet every choice and its consequences ultimately trace back to the First Cause. Yosef wasn't absolving his brothers of responsibility; he was inviting them to see the bigger picture: Their freely chosen actions, painful as they were, became threads in a divine tapestry that preserved the family.

This perspective brings deep comfort: Even wrongdoing, when viewed through the lens of the First Cause, can be redirected toward redemption.

The key to God's promise "I will go down with you to Egypt" lies in this same idea—but with a transformative twist.

In Moreh Nevuchim 1:27, the Rambam explains anthropomorphic language like "descending," and in Yaakov's prophetic dream, the literal wording is retained because it is visionary imagery. More profoundly, divine "descent" into exile is not God literally accompanying us in a physical sense. Rather, hashgachah—divine providence—is our human recognition that everything traces back to the First Cause.

It is we who "take God with us" into exile through this elevated consciousness: by perceiving all events as ultimately rooted in God, and by actively choosing to imitate His ways (chesed, truth, justice) even in darkness.

This is the fulfillment of Yaakov's ladder vision. There, the angels (or "men of God," as some interpretations render) ascended first—representing the soul's upward journey in contemplation, grasping the esoteric truth that all reality flows from the First Cause. Only then did they descend, carrying that sublime understanding back into the world.

Now, as Yaakov and his family descend to the depths of Egypt—the epitome of impurity and materialism—they embody that descent of the ladder. They take the profound insight received in the Land of Israel, this esoteric worldview of tracing everything back to God and living in imitation of His attributes, down with them into exile. In doing so, they transform galut itself, ensuring that divine providence remains with them—not as an external force coming down, but as an inner light they carry downward.

Yosef modeled this perfectly: Amid betrayal and suffering, he maintained integrity and attributed the entire chain of events to God. In doing so, he brought the divine perspective into Egypt itself.

This is the timeless, empowering message of Vayigash: True hashgachah in exile is not God coming down to us, but our rising to Him—through understanding that all leads back to the First Cause, and through our resolute choice to live in imitation of His attributes. Like the angels on the ladder, we first ascend in thought and commitment, then descend into the world carrying that truth. In this way, we bring God with us wherever we go, turning even the darkest exile into a path of closeness and redemption.

Being close to God

 Within Jewish thought(Maimonidean), the less one presumes to know of God's essence, the closer one draws to Him.

The Rambam quotes the following in MN 1:59 to prove this point-

Tehillim 65:2-

לְךָ דֻמִיָּה תְהִלָּה אֱלֹהִים בְּצִיּוֹן

"To thee silence is praise"

TB Berakhot 33B

הַהוּא דִּנְחֵית קַמֵּיהּ דְּרַבִּי חֲנִינָא, אֲמַר ״הָאֵל הַגָּדוֹל הַגִּבּוֹר וְהַנּוֹרָא וְהָאַדִּיר וְהָעִזּוּז וְהַיָּראוּי, הֶחָזָק וְהָאַמִּיץ וְהַוַּדַּאי וְהַנִּכְבָּד״.

הִמְתִּין לוֹ עַד דְּסַיֵּים. כִּי סַיֵּים אֲמַר לֵיהּ: סַיֵּימְתִּינְהוּ לְכוּלְּהוּ שִׁבְחֵי דְמָרָךְ?! לְמָה לִי כּוּלֵּי הַאי? אֲנַן, הָנֵי תְּלָת דְּאָמְרִינַן אִי לָאו דְּאַמְרִינְהוּ מֹשֶׁה רַבֵּנוּ בְּאוֹרָיְיתָא, וַאֲתוֹ אַנְשֵׁי כְּנֶסֶת הַגְּדוֹלָה וְתַקְּנִינְהוּ בִּתְפִלָּה — לָא הֲוֵינַן יְכוֹלִין לְמֵימַר לְהוּ, וְאַתְּ אָמְרַתְּ כּוּלֵּי הַאי וְאָזְלַתְּ! מָשָׁל לְמֶלֶךְ בָּשָׂר וָדָם שֶׁהָיוּ לוֹ אֶלֶף אֲלָפִים דִּינְרֵי זָהָב, וְהָיוּ מְקַלְּסִין אוֹתוֹ בְּשֶׁל כֶּסֶף. וַהֲלֹא גְּנַאי הוּא לוֹ!

A particular individual descended before the ark as prayer leader in the presence of Rabbi Ḥanina. He extended his prayer and said: God, the great, mighty, awesome, powerful, mighty, awe-inspiring, strong, fearless, steadfast and honored.

Rabbi Ḥanina waited for him until he completed his prayer. When he finished, Rabbi Ḥanina asked him: Have you concluded all of the praises of your Master? Why do I need all of this superfluous praise? Even these three praises that we recite: The great, mighty and awesome, had Moses our teacher not said them in the Torah and had the members of the Great Assembly not come and incorporated them into the Amida prayer, we would not be permitted to recite them. And you went on and recited all of these. It is comparable to a king who possessed many thousands of golden dinars, yet they were praising him for silver ones. Isn’t that deprecatory? All of the praises we could possibly lavish upon the Lord are nothing but a few silver dinars relative to many thousands of gold dinars. Reciting a litany of praise does not enhance 

God’s honor.

One more thought that just occurred to me: Is it possible that Chazal’s mashal of gold and silver was inspired by (or even based on) these pesukim in Isaiah 46?

לְמִי תְדַמְּיוּנִי וְתַשְׁווּ וְתַמְשִׁלוּנִי וְנִדְמֶה׃

To whom can you compare Me Or declare Me similar?To whom can you liken Me,So that we seem comparable?

הַזָּלִים זָהָב מִכִּיס וְכֶסֶף בַּקָּנֶה יִשְׁקֹלוּ יִשְׂכְּרוּ צוֹרֵף וְיַעֲשֵׂהוּ אֵל יִסְגְּדוּ אַף־יִשְׁתַּחֲווּ׃

Those who squander gold from the purse And weigh out silver on the balance, They hire a metal worker to make it into a god,To which they bow down and prostrate themselves.

Korach the son or grandson of esav-וישלח

 In this week’s parsha (Bereishit 36), I’ve always found the listing of Esav’s descendants a bit confusing—specifically the son named קֹרַח who appears to be both a direct son of Esav and a son of Eliphaz (making him also Esav’s grandson).

Here are the relevant pesukim:

עֵשָׂ֛ו לָקַ֥ח אֶת־נָשָׁ֖יו מִבְּנ֣וֹת כְּנָ֑עַן אֶת־עָדָ֗ה בַּת־אֵילוֹן֙ הַֽחִתִּ֔י וְאֶת־אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ בַּת־עֲנָ֔ה בַּת־צִבְע֖וֹן הַֽחִוִּֽי...  

וְאׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ יָֽלְדָ֔ה אֶת־[יְע֥וּשׁ] (יְעִ֖ישׁ) וְאֶת־יַעְלָ֖ם וְאֶת־קֹ֑רַח אֵ֚לֶּה בְּנֵ֣י עֵשָׂ֔ו אֲשֶׁ֥ר יֻלְּדוּ־ל֖וֹ בְּאֶ֥רֶץ כְּנָֽעַן׃

So we see that one of Esav’s wives, אׇהֳלִיבָמָה, gave birth to קֹרַח.  

(On a side note—her name אׇהֳלִיבָמָה, meaning “my tent is exalted” or “my tent is a בָּמָה,” is also quite interesting.)

The Torah repeats this lineage again:

וְאֵ֣לֶּה הָי֗וּ בְּנֵ֨י אׇהֳלִיבָמָ֧ה בַת־עֲנָ֛ה בַּת־צִבְע֖וֹן אֵ֣שֶׁת עֵשָׂ֑ו וַתֵּ֣לֶד לְעֵשָׂ֔ו אֶת־[יְע֥וּשׁ] (יְעִ֖ישׁ) וְאֶת־יַעְלָ֖ם וְאֶת־קֹֽרַח׃

Then we are told that Eliphaz (Esav’s firstborn son from his wife עָדָה) also had a son named קֹרַח:

אֵ֖לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֣י בְנֵֽי־עֵשָׂ֑ו בְּנֵ֤י אֱלִיפַז֙ בְּכ֣וֹר עֵשָׂ֔ו אַלּ֤וּף תֵּימָן֙ אַלּ֣וּף אוֹמָ֔ר אַלּ֥וּף צְפ֖וֹ אַלּ֥וּף קְנַֽז׃  

אַלּֽוּף־קֹ֛רַח אַלּ֥וּף גַּעְתָּ֖ם אַלּ֣וּף עֲמָלֵ֑ק אֵ֣לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֤י אֱלִיפַז֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ אֱד֔וֹם אֵ֖לֶּה בְּנֵ֥י עָדָֽה׃

And once more the Torah lists קֹרַח among the chiefs descended from אׇהֳלִיבָמָה(esav's wife):

וְאֵ֗לֶּה בְּנֵ֤י אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ אֵ֣שֶׁת עֵשָׂ֔ו אַלּ֥וּף יְע֛וּשׁ אַלּ֥וּף יַעְלָ֖ם אַלּ֣וּף קֹ֑רַח אֵ֣לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֞י אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָ֛ה בַּת־עֲנָ֖ה אֵ֥שֶׁת עֵשָֽׂו׃

The Rishonim noticed this apparent contradiction: How can קֹרַח be both a son of Esav and a grandson (son of Eliphaz)?

Both Rashi and בְּכוֹר שׁוֹר (a prominent student of Rabbeinu Tam) brings a remarkable explanation, citing the words of our Sages-(I'm quoting the bechor shor below):

ורבותינו אמרו: כי אליפז בא על אהליבמה והולידו, ולפיכך מנהו באלופי אליפז ובאלופי אהליבמה ובבניה.

Meaning: Eliphaz had relations with his father’s wife אׇהֳלִיבָמָה and fathered קֹרַח with her. That is why the Torah counts קֹרַח both among the chiefs of Eliphaz and among the chiefs/descendants of אׇהֳלִיבָמָה (and originally as a direct son of Esav).

It’s striking that both Yaakov and Esav had similar scandals with their children. Yet by Yaakov and Reuven, the torah spells it straight out and by Esav and Eliphaz, it's only hinted…

Even more fascinating: centuries later, at the time of יציאת מצרים, the name קֹרַח became a common Jewish name—most famously borne by the Korach who challenged Moshe Rabbeinu. The fact that Jews in Egypt freely used names of Esav’s descendants may hint that, in that earlier period, Esav’s family was not yet viewed as the eternal adversary it later became (especially from the Second Temple era onward). In fact the Rambam(MN 3:50) says that the reason the descendants of Esav are listed in such detail, is so that in our mitzvah of erasing Amalek, we don't accidently harm Esav’s other children

Hashgacha pratis/ladder

 A message to the chareidi leadership in Israel that follow voodoo judaism!

Hashgacha Pratis isn’t God reaching down – it’s man reaching up.

In this week’s parsha, Yaakov sees the angels going up the ladder first, and only then coming down. And at the top stands Hashem – “nitzav alav” (Bereishit 28:13).

The Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim 1:15) explains that when the Torah says God is “nitzav” (standing), it’s not about a body. It means God is eternal, unchanging, constant – absolutely steady, never moving, never changing.

So if God doesn’t change, how does personal hashgacha happen? How does God “get involved” in our lives?

The Rambam answers this beautifully in the exact same chapter: the torah says that  the angels go up first, and only then come down. A person has to climb – through thought, learning, prophecy– and only after that ascent does he bring something down-action to this world, to fix it, to teach it, to lead it.

That descent, says the Rambam elsewhere (1:10), is what the torah calls “God coming down.” In truth, it’s man who went up (mentally/prophecy)and is now bringing God’s light back into the world through revelation and action.

Yaakov’s dream isn’t showing some magical divine intervention. It’s showing the real mechanism: the tzaddik, the prophet, the leader – anyone created b’tzelem Elokim – climbs the ladder in his mind and soul, grasps God’s will, and then comes back down to change reality via action.

That’s hashgacha pratis in action.  

Not God moving.  

Us moving – and becoming the hands of heaven right here on earth.

Did the Akeida really happen? Does God really need to test us?

 

The Rambam in MN 2:41 says that whenever it says regarding a prophet that an angel spoke to him, it is always through a dream or a vision.

  החכמים ז"ל דיברו על כך במפורש ואמרו: "'וַיֹּאמֶר ה' לָהּ [שְׁנֵי גֹיִים בְּבִטְנֵךְ...]' (שם כה,כג) – על ידי מלאך" (בראשית רבה סג,ז). ודע שכל מי שנאמר עליו בפסוקים שדיבר איתו מלאך או שהגיע אליו דיבור מאת ה', לא היה דבר זה בשום אופן אלא בחלום או במראה הנבואה.

In this week's parsha, Genesis chapter 22, God speaks to Avraham and tells him to offer Yitzchak as a sacrifice.

וַיְהִי, אַחַר הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה, וְהָאֱלֹהִים, נִסָּה אֶת־אַבְרָהָם; וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו, אַבְרָהָם וַיֹּאמֶר הִנֵּנִי.  ב וַיֹּאמֶר קַח־נָא אֶת־בִּנְךָ אֶת־יְחִידְךָ אֲשֶׁר־אָהַבְתָּ, אֶת־יִצְחָק, וְלֶךְ־לְךָ, אֶל־אֶרֶץ הַמֹּרִיָּה; וְהַעֲלֵהוּ שָׁם, לְעֹלָה, עַל אַחַד הֶהָרִים, אֲשֶׁר אֹמַר אֵלֶיךָ

The next thing we read is that Avraham woke up in the morning and attempted to fulfill God's command until an angel tells him to stop.

וַיַּשְׁכֵּם אַבְרָהָם בַּבֹּקֶר, וַיַּחֲבֹשׁ אֶת־חֲמֹרוֹ, וַיִּקַּח אֶת־שְׁנֵי נְעָרָיו אִתּוֹ, וְאֵת יִצְחָק בְּנוֹ; וַיְבַקַּע, עֲצֵי עֹלָה, וַיָּקָם וַיֵּלֶךְ, אֶל־הַמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר־אָמַר־לוֹ הָאֱלֹהִים...וַיִּקְרָא אֵלָיו מַלְאַךְ יְהוָה, מִן־הַשָּׁמַיִם, וַיֹּאמֶר, אַבְרָהָם אַבְרָהָם; וַיֹּאמֶר, הִנֵּנִי.  יב וַיֹּאמֶר, אַל־תִּשְׁלַח יָדְךָ אֶל־הַנַּעַר, וְאַל־תַּעַשׂ לוֹ, מְאוּמָה:  כִּי עַתָּה יָדַעְתִּי, כִּי־יְרֵא אֱלֹהִים אַתָּה, וְלֹא חָשַׂכְתָּ אֶת־בִּנְךָ אֶת־יְחִידְךָ, מִמֶּנִּי.  

Now, did the vision ever end, or did all this happen—including his attempt to sacrifice Yitzchak—all as a vision? 

It would make sense that it was a vision, because at the end, when the angel speaks to Avraham, it would confirm that the entire event from beginning to end was all one vision. 

I know that there are many problems that arise with this theory, including: What kind of test was it if it was all a vision? And what reward does Avraham get for an Akeida that was just a vision? There are other problems with saying the Akeida really did happen. One of them is that, according to math and the Rabbis in Bereishit Rabbah, Yitzchak was 37 years old when the Akeida happened. In reality, he should receive more reward than Avraham. After all, he was the one allowing himself to be sacrificed despite not receiving the command or prophecy from God.

Now let's examine the word ניסיון, or test, according to the Rambam in MN 3:24:

"The sole object of all the trials mentioned in Scripture is to teach man what he ought to do or believe; so that the event which forms the actual trial is not the end desired: it is but an example for our instruction and guidance."

So if ניסיון is a lesson in how we—and future generations—should behave, then the fact that this was all a vision is not a problem. It would also explain why Yitzchak does not get credit for allowing himself to be offered as a Sacrifice. As regards why Avraham is rewarded for an act that he never performed, the Torah says twice—that an angel called out once when he was about to slaughter Yitzchak (if it was in a vision)—

וַיֹּאמֶר, אַל־תִּשְׁלַח יָדְךָ אֶל־הַנַּעַר, וְאַל־תַּעַשׂ לוֹ, מְאוּמָה:  כִּי עַתָּה יָדַעְתִּי, כִּי־יְרֵא אֱלֹהִים אַתָּה, וְלֹא חָשַׂכְתָּ אֶת־בִּנְךָ אֶת־יְחִידְךָ, מִמֶּנִּי. 

And again from the angel after he slaughtered a ram instead—

וַיִּקְרָא מַלְאַךְ יְהוָה, אֶל־אַבְרָהָם, שֵׁנִית, מִן־הַשָּׁמַיִם.  טז וַיֹּאמֶר, בִּי נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי נְאֻם־יְהוָה:  כִּי, יַעַן אֲשֶׁר עָשִׂיתָ אֶת־הַדָּבָר הַזֶּה, וְלֹא חָשַׂכְתָּ, אֶת־בִּנְךָ אֶת־יְחִידֶךָ.

I know this is far-fetched, but perhaps the sacrifice of his son is not what God is referring to when He says ולא חשכת את בנך את יחידך (notice that Yitzchak by name is never mentioned). Perhaps it is referring to sending his eldest, Ishmael, away so that Yitzchak can be the chosen one or the one to inherit the mission of Avraham. We saw in the previous chapter how much sending away his son Ishmael bothered and pained him. Yet he chose to do so because God told him. This may not have been an actual Akeida, but it definitely had similar emotional results...

It is to this sacrifice that God was referring in Avraham's vision.

We must differentiate between a test being the cause of the reward versus a lesson for future generations. The ten tests are lessons and not necessarily sources of reward.

What is divine intervention or Hashgacha Pratis?

 

In this week’s parsha, when Yitzchak asks Yaakov—whom he believes to be his brother Esav—how he managed to return so quickly with the prepared food, Yaakov answers as follows (Bereishit 27:20):

וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יִצְחָק֙ אֶל־בְּנוֹ֔ מַה־זֶּ֛ה מִהַ֥רְתָּ לִמְצֹ֖א בְּנִ֑י וַיֹּ֕אמֶר כִּ֥י הִקְרָ֛ה יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ לְפָנָֽי׃  

“And Yitzchak said to his son, ‘How is it that you found it so quickly, my son?’ And he said, ‘Because the Lord your God made it happen (hikrah) for me.’”

Yaakov’s response essentially means: “God arranged it for me that the food came quickly.” The word הִקְרָה (from the root ק־ר־ה) normally implies mere happenstance or coincidence. But when it is used together with the name of God—“הִקְרָ֛ה יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ לְפָנָֽי”—Yaakov is saying that what might appear to others as chance was, in truth, the guiding hand of God.

The midrashim seize upon this answer and connect it beautifully to two earlier episodes: the Akeidah and Eliezer’s search for a wife for Yitzchak.

- At the Akeidah, after Avraham is stopped from offering Yitzchak, a ram suddenly appears caught in the thicket, ready to be sacrificed in his place.  

- When Eliezer prays at the well for a sign to find a wife for his master’s son, he explicitly uses the same root: הַקְרֵה־נָ֛א לְפָנַ֥י הַיּוֹם (“Cause it to happen [hakreh na] for me today…” – Bereishit 24:12).

The midrashim explain Yaakov’s reply to his father this way: “If God can ‘cause a ram to happen’ for the sake of His direct service (the Akeidah), and if He can ‘cause the right woman to happen’ at the well when one is seeking a spouse, then surely, when it comes to basic human sustenance—food—God will arrange for it to come quickly.”

These midrashim immediately remind me of the Rambam’s words in Moreh Nevukhim 3:51:

“When we have acquired true knowledge of God and rejoice in that knowledge in such a way that, even while speaking with others or attending to our bodily needs, our mind is wholly with God… when our heart is constantly near God even though our body is among people… when we are in the state the Song of Songs describes: ‘I sleep, but my heart is awake; it is the voice of my beloved knocking’ (Shir HaShirim 5:2)—then we have reached not only the level of most prophets, but the unique level of Moshe Rabbenu…”

In the very same chapter, the Rambam continues:

"I have just had a most amazing flash of light that will lose many a knot and lay bare many a divine mystery:In the chapters on providence, I explained that providence over any rational subject is in the measure of his reason. So providence is constant over an enlightened person whose focus on God is unbroken. But should that person's thoughts stray for a moment, he is cared for only while he concentrates on him.Providence recedes while he is distracted, although it does not leave him in the same state as someone who has never known such thoughts "

The Avot lived with an unbroken awareness of God, guiding every action by imitating His ways as revealed in creation. They viewed the world through lenses that revealed God’s will in everything—whether in direct worship through sacrifice or prayer, in finding a spouse, or even in the simple act of obtaining food. This is precisely the state the Rambam describes: constantly thinking of God, even amid daily life.

This is actually how the Rambam learns hashgacha pratis-man being aware of god and thereby choosing to imitate his ways. 

It is no wonder, then, that in next week’s parsha Yaakov dreams of the ladder with angels ascending and descending. The ladder symbolizes the prophet’s (and every Jew’s) task: first to raise the mind to God and His ways, and then to descend and bring that divine consciousness back down into everyday activities—transforming the mundane into the holy. This is the ultimate purpose of the mitzvot and of the rabbinic enactments such as blessings before eating, on seeing the new moon, on hearing thunder or lightning, etc.—to keep our hearts and minds focused on seeing and imitating God's ways in creation, at all times.

Shabbat shalom!

Is belief in God enough?

 Is Believing in God Enough?

I was reading פרשגן on this week's parsha, and he quotes an interesting insight from Nehama Leibowitz regarding Genesis 15:5-6:

"וַיּוֹצֵא אֹתוֹ הַחוּצָה, וַיֹּאמֶר הַבֶּט-נָא הַשָּׁמַיְמָה וּסְפֹר הַכּוֹכָבִים--אִם-תּוּכַל, לִסְפֹּר אֹתָם; וַיֹּאמֶר לוֹ, כֹּה יִהְיֶה זַרְעֶךָ.  

וְהֶאֱמִן בַּיהוָה; וַיַּחְשְׁבֶהָ לּוֹ, צְדָקָה."

"And He brought him forth abroad, and said: 'Look now toward heaven, and count the stars, if thou be able to count them'; and He said unto him: 'So shall thy seed be.  

And he believed in the LORD; and He counted it to him for righteousness.'"

In the last sentence, where it says "He counted it to him for righteousness," there is a debate between Rashi and the Ramban regarding who "him" refers to.

 According to Rashi, it refers to God counting Avraham as righteous due to his belief in Him. 

The Ramban interprets it as Avraham counting God as righteous. 

Nehama Leibowitz offers a fascinating insight into why the Ramban took this view. The Ramban was frequently debating Christians who claimed that "belief" alone in Jesus grants righteousness or entry into the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, he did not want to understand this pasuk as God finding Avraham righteous solely based on his belief. In Judaism, belief without mitzvot or proper behavior is deemed worthless. Thus, the Ramban concluded that Avraham recognized the righteousness in God.

So, what exactly did Avraham find righteous about God in this vision of his children being compared to the stars?

 My interpretation is that, similar to the stars that  we see, which often appear millions or billions of light-years after the event, walking in the ways of God leads to positive consequences long after we're gone.

 This was Avraham's vision: he was told by God that the path and way of life he chose would result in his children continuing his mission and changing the world for thousands, perhaps millions, of years after he is gone. It is this capacity built into creation to have a positive impact on the world long after our time that Avraham attributed righteousness to God.

Shavua Tov!

R' Eliezer Hurkenos

 In today's Daf, we explore the concept of evolution and how Chazal (our sages) differ in their approach to the evolutionary process from a halachic perspective. The question arises: Does the changing nature of the world necessitate changes in halacha, or should we adhere to halacha based on historical scientific understandings? 

Beit Shammai argues that halacha should remain unchanged despite shifts in the natural world, while Beit Hillel contends that halacha can evolve over time and adapt based on the insights of each generation, following the proper processes (such as those established by a Sanhedrin).

This perspective likely explains why we predominantly follow Beit Hillel. Halacha is intended to be dynamic, much like nature itself, as both were created by God and entrusted to humanity, reflecting the principle of "Torah lo b'shamayim" (the Torah is not in heaven) and regarding nature-"V'kivshuha" (and we must conquer it).

An interesting point to note involves the renowned Rabbi Eliezer Hurcanus, who was previously mentioned in this tractate. He is described in the tractate Avot as a "בור סוד שאינו מאבד טיפה," meaning "a plastered cistern that doesn’t lose a drop." This metaphor illustrates his role as a student who absorbed knowledge from his teachers like an encyclopedia, adhering strictly to tradition and the teachings he received.

Despite being educated in the yeshivot of Beit Hillel, Rabbi Eliezer chose to follow the rulings of Beit Shammai. He was steadfast in his commitment to tradition and resisted innovation, a trait that ultimately led to his excommunication. The Torah cannot thrive without innovation. Ironically, it was Rabbi Eliezer’s famous student, Rabbi Akiva, who was celebrated for his creativity and innovation, as the Gemara describes how Rabbi Akiva would interpret the crowns of the letters in the Torah.

Below is the Gemara from today's Daf:

אָמַר רַבִּי חִיָּיא בְּרֵיהּ דְּרַבָּה בַּר נַחְמָנִי: אָמַר רַב חִסְדָּא, וְאָמְרִי לַהּ אָמַר רַב חִסְדָּא אָמַר זְעֵירִי: הַכֹּל מוֹדִים בְּבֶן תֵּשַׁע שָׁנִים וְיוֹם אֶחָד שֶׁבִּיאָתוֹ בִּיאָה, פָּחוֹת מִבֶּן שְׁמֹנֶה שֶׁאֵין בִּיאָתוֹ בִּיאָה. לֹא נֶחְלְקוּ אֶלָּא בְּבֶן שְׁמֹנֶה, דְּבֵית שַׁמַּאי סָבְרִי: גָּמְרִינַן מִדּוֹרוֹת הָרִאשׁוֹנִים, וּבֵית הִלֵּל סָבְרִי: לָא גָּמְרִינַן מִדּוֹרוֹת הָרִאשׁוֹנִים.

"Rabbi Ḥiyya, son of Rabba bar Naḥmani, says that Rav Ḥisda says, and some say that Rav Ḥisda says that Ze’eiri says: All, i.e., both Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel, concede regarding a boy nine years and one day old that his intercourse is regarded as intercourse, disqualifying a woman from marrying into the priesthood and resulting in her liability for the death penalty, even though he himself is not liable to receive it. They also all agree that a boy less than eight years old is not regarded as having engaged in intercourse with respect to these halakhot. Their disagreement pertains only to a boy who is eight years old, as Beit Shammai maintains that we learn from earlier generations, when people could father children at that age, and we apply that reality to the present; while Beit Hillel contends that we do not learn from earlier generations."

Kiseh

 Maimonides writes in MN 1:9 that the Hebrew word "Kisse" fundamentally translates to "throne." This throne was exclusively occupied by individuals of majesty and authority, such as kings. The throne itself isn't inherently special; it gains significance from the person who occupies it, due to the symbolism they bestow upon it. This is why the Beit Hamikdash is called God's throne, as it symbolizes, through the observer, the God who revealed Himself there (through prophecy-my words)

Maimonides further explains that the same concept applies to the heavens being referred to as God's throne. They reveal the majesty of God to those who study them, illustrating how He governs and controls the world, as evidenced by the benefits we experience on Earth, as a result of the heavens(rain, seasons etc). As stated in Isaiah 66:1: "So says God: The heavens are my throne."

In other words, unlike a human king who must fight to ascend to the throne, thereby making it royal and special through their reign, God is already the King through our observation and understanding of the cause of the world's existence. The throne symbolizes our realization through creation—whether divine or our own—that He is the cause and creator of everything we experience. Objects or creations that awaken this awareness are referred to as God's throne.

On this note, I'd like to highlight an interesting passage in the Book of Esther:

The word "kiseh" (throne) appears only three times in the Megillah. The first instance is when Achashverosh is mentioned as the occupier of the throne-Chapter 1:2:

"בַּיָּמִים הָהֵם כְּשֶׁבֶת הַמֶּלֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵרוֹשׁ עַל כִּסֵּא מַלְכוּתוֹ אֲשֶׁר בְּשׁוּשַׁן הַבִּירָה."

The second instance is when Haman is mentioned as the occupier of the throne- Chapter 3:1:

"אַחַר הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה גִּדַּל הַמֶּלֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵרוֹשׁ אֶת הָמָן בֶּן הַמְּדָתָא הָאֲגָגִי וַיְנַשְּׂאֵהוּ וַיָּשֶׂם אֶת כִּסְאוֹ מֵעַל כׇּל הַשָּׂרִים אֲשֶׁר אִתּוֹ."

Finally, in Chapter 5:1:

"וַיְהִי בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁלִישִׁי וַתִּלְבַּשׁ אֶסְתֵּר מַלְכוּת וַתַּעֲמֹד בַּחֲצַר בֵּית הַמֶּלֶךְ הַפְּנִימִית נֹכַח בֵּית הַמֶּלֶךְ וְהַמֶּלֶךְ יוֹשֵׁב עַל כִּסֵּא מַלְכוּתוֹ בְּבֵית הַמַּלְכוּת נֹכַח פֶּתַח הַבָּיִת."

In this last mention of the "kiseh," the Megillah is silent about who is occupying  the throne, referring only to the word "melech" (king). I believe this was intentional, to show that Esther was approaching two kings or two thrones at once—the earthly king who makes the throne his own and the divine King known through the realization of His throne.

Note-perhaps this is the reason that the word נכח is written twice-to support this idea

Purim 2025

 The evil Mordechai...!

This year, the part of the Megillah that resonates most profoundly with me is the final pasuk:

כִּי מָרְדֳּכַי הַיְּהוּדִי, מִשְׁנֶה לַמֶּלֶךְ אֲחַשְׁוֵרוֹשׁ, וְגָדוֹל לַיְּהוּדִים, וְרָצוּי לְרֹב אֶחָיו--דֹּרֵשׁ טוֹב לְעַמּוֹ, וְדֹבֵר שָׁלוֹם לְכָל-זַרְעוֹ

"For Mordechai the Jew was second in rank to King Ahasuerus, and he was esteemed among the Jews and favored by the majority of his brothers. He sought the welfare of his people and spoke peace to all his descendants."

What truly captivates me is the phrase "favored by the majority of his brothers." Much like the biblical Pinchas, Mordechai’s decisive actions led to the deaths of over seventy thousand fellow citizens. There were no trials, no justice system to condemn them; it was simply the king’s decree that sealed their fate. One can almost hear the progressive voices bemoaning that if only Mordechai had bowed down, this entire saga might have been avoided. I can envision the teshuvot written in condemnation of Mordechai for his refusal to bow, risking the lives of his fellow Jews while turning a blind eye to the ensuing bloodshed.

Imagine the fervent discussions among the frum community and in the chareidi yeshivot about a local Rosh Yeshiva marrying off his niece to a non-Jew! 

Now, picture if social media had existed then—how the self-righteous would argue about the precedent set by the slaughter of fellow citizens and the implications for future violence at the king’s whim. 

The modern-day debates circulating in Jewish social media against Trump and his recent actions regarding the terrorist Mahmoud Khalil likely mirror those once directed at Mordechai in his time. This is precisely why the Megillah emphasizes "the majority of his brothers." It serves as a powerful reminder that this is a recurring theme in Jewish history. We will always question and critique, even in the wake of a hard-won victory over our adversaries. Just as Pinchas, after slaying Zimri, received a blessing of peace to counter the dissenters of his actions, so too does the Megillah conclude with Mordechai and the enduring theme of peace:

דֹבֵר שָׁלוֹם לְכָל-זַרְעוֹ

Happy and peaceful purim to all my Jewish brothers and sisters! :)