Audio Shiur: Parshat Emor - The Sanctity of Yom Hazikaron

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Emor - The Sanctity of Yom Hazikaron

With the rawness of Yom Hazikaron, when we honor and remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice for the State of Israel, in our minds, we search for the source of strength within the brave soldiers willing to risk and give their lives for the Jewish people. We read of the great courage of Gadi Ezra, who fell in "Chomat Magen" in 2002, and the beautiful letter he wrote to his beloved before his death. His strength must spur us to bring holiness to the world.

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Bring Back an Old Prohibition

This store sells products made from Yoshon.
And they accept food stamps too!

Keeping a kosher kitchen is a basic tenet of normative Jewish life. While the rules can be complicated, we all know the basics: which animals can be eaten and which cannot; not to mix milk and meat; meat must be slaughtered and prepared in a precise, exacting manner - if you keep kosher, you know what I'm talking about. But there's another basic law of Kashrut that you may have never even heard of, even though it appears explicitly in the Torah: a law called Chadash (new grain). Essentially, grain planted after Pesach is not kosher until the next Pesach.
No, this isn't some crazy stringency. It's black and white in the Torah, in Parashat Emor.

ט וַיְדַבֵּר ה', אֶל-מֹשֶׁה לֵּאמֹר. י דַּבֵּר אֶל-בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם, כִּי-תָבֹאוּ אֶל-הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אֲנִי נֹתֵן לָכֶם, וּקְצַרְתֶּם אֶת-קְצִירָהּ--וַהֲבֵאתֶם אֶת-עֹמֶר רֵאשִׁית קְצִירְכֶם, אֶל-הַכֹּהֵן. יא וְהֵנִיף אֶת-הָעֹמֶר לִפְנֵי ה', לִרְצֹנְכֶם; מִמָּחֳרַת, הַשַּׁבָּת, יְנִיפֶנּוּ, הַכֹּהֵן... יד וְלֶחֶם וְקָלִי וְכַרְמֶל לֹא תֹאכְלוּ, עַד-עֶצֶם הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה--עַד הֲבִיאֲכֶם, אֶת-קָרְבַּן אֱלֹהֵיכֶם: חֻקַּת עוֹלָם לְדֹרֹתֵיכֶם, בְּכֹל מֹשְׁבֹתֵיכֶם.

And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, Speak to the children of Israel and say to them: When you come to the Land which I am giving you, and you reap its harvest, you shall bring to the kohen an omer of the beginning of your reaping. And he shall wave the omer before the Lord so that it will be acceptable for you; the kohen shall wave it on the day after the rest day. And on the day of your waving the omer, you shall offer up an unblemished lamb in its [first] year as a burnt offering to the Lord...You shall not eat bread or [flour made from] parched grain or fresh grain, until this very day, until you bring your God's sacrifice. [This is] an eternal statute throughout your generations in all your dwelling places. (Vayikra 23:9-14)

Essentially the Torah teaches us here that we are forbidden to eat any grain planted after the second day of Pesach until the Omer sacrifice is offered in the Beit Hamikdash. If there is no Temple, then we at least must wait until the end of the day that it should have been offered - the second day of Pesach. This prohibited grain is called Chadash (often written in America as Chodosh) which means simply, "new". Thus, the only permitted type of grain is "old" grain, conveniently known as Yashan (or Yoshon)
You might be wondering: if this prohibition is so explicit, how come most people have never heard about it?
Great, wise rabbis, recognizing the extreme difficulty strict adherence to this rule would incur, issued legal leniencies upon which Jews relied to permit them to eat the local bread. Two hundred years ago in Eastern Europe, there wasn't that much grain available to begin with, and often the only flour available was new grain, planted that year. If you really want to understand this issue in a deeper way, many shuirim and articles are available on the web which can explain them, the scope of which are far beyond a simple blog post. (There are numerous articles on the web which explain the issues related to Chadash and the leniencies involved. See here, for example.) Rest assured that the kulot are there, and one may rely upon them.
But they are leniencies. The basic halachah has not changed. The basic prohibition against eating Chadash remains fully intact. And, times have changed for the better. Grain is readily available, and storage options are open to everyone. It's no longer nearly impossible to keep the laws of Chadash. It's simply inconvenient. (Today, if you want to eat only yoshon, you can buy basically any kosher grain product from Pesach through about Rosh Hashanah. After that point, you've got to start checking lists in order to know which grain went into what product. See here. It's rather involved.)
Here in Israel, everyone keeps the laws of Chadash, primarily because the halachic leniencies rely, among other things, on a debate whether the rules of Chadash apply only in Israel (like those of Terumot and Ma'asrot) or also outside of Israel. In Israel, there was never a debate, and all grain in Israel is Yoshon (although someone asked me about products imported into Israel. I'm still trying to find out).
I understand why kashrut agencies didn't originally attempt to require that certified products include only yoshon grain. After all, in their infancy decades ago, they lacked the leverage to make such a demand from major corporations. Moreover, imposing a yoshon requirement might very well have made it impossible for them to certify any widely produced commercial food products. But today these agencies carry great weight, and even if they couldn't insists that all Cheerios come from yoshon grain, they could at least make a run of "yoshon" Cheerios - and many other popular products - and label them as such. Moreover, entire communities could locate the necessary storage to purchase enough grain to last throughout the winter until Pesach (there are plenty of self-storage businesses across the country). With minimal effort, local Kashrut councils could create a co-op allowing consumers the ability to communally purchase, and then share the grain they needed to adhere to this halachah.
I've always been fascinated by the fact that broad communities now adhere to the halachah of Chalav Yisrael - which is a great thing, and should be lauded. People really sacrifice for Chalav Yisrael, especially in communities where finding CY dairy products can be challenging. Yet, for some reason, many if not most of those same people do not make the same effort to adhere to the strictures of Yoshon, for reasons that were never clear to me.
Rabbi Avrohom Pollack of the Star-K, concludes his article about Chodosh by writing,

In fact, a few Rabbis have suggested that there are more compelling reasons to observe chodosh than there are for eating only Glatt Kosher and Cholov Yisroel. Although at this time none of the mainstream kosher supervising agencies are insisting on Yoshon, except in those instances where a caterer, store proprietor, or food manufacturer advertise Yoshon, one never knows what will happen in the future as the Yoshon trend among kosher consumers becomes more pronounced.

I think that's a bit of a cop-out. Do the kashrut agencies wait for consumers before deciding what's kosher and what's not? Why then should the consumer first create demand for what's clearly a halachic value? It's time, to my mind, for Kashrut agencies to take the lead, and return this "old" law to the awareness, and adherence of the general public.

Audio Shiur: Parshat Emor - The Paradox of Sefirat Haomer

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Emor - The Paradox of Sefirat Haomer

The Omer is a merging of opposites. Reading through the text in the chumash, we find a number of examples of these opposite values, and try to understand how the Torah blends them to create deep meaning.

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Audio Shiur: Parshat Emor - The Omer Offering, Israel's True Protection

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Emor - The Omer Offering, Israel's True Protection

The juxtaposition of the death of Osama bin Laden and Yom Hashoah challenged me personally as we vacillate between joy and mourning, hope and despair. What is the secret to our eternal national survival? Surprisingly, according to the Midrash, the secret lies in the Korban haOmer. Really? Yes. But how can a meal offering of barley save the Jewish people?

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Parshat Emor - Men, Women and the Rabbah

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Emor - Men, Women and the Rabbah

The RCA's recent resolution regarding female Orthodox rabbis - namely that they're beyond the pale of Orthodoxy, once again raises the challenging issue of gender in Judaism. We find ourselves torn between modern values and our ancient timeless tradition. We study some of those traditions found at the outset of Emor, and discuss how we struggle with the messages of the pesukim and how they impact our lives.

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The Burden and Opportunity of Holiness

No one likes being told what to do. Blessed to have been born into free societies where we have the right to choose our own paths in life, the notion of coercion seems foreign – even quaint. In Israel we struggle with this notion in the area of religion – what we call kefiyah datit – religious coercion. Why should someone be forced to marry in a religious ceremony? Why should it be against the law to sell Chametz on Pesach in a democratic society?
At the same time, Judaism very strongly believes in the notion of coercion. The Gemara makes no distinctions between interpersonal transgressions (stealing or maiming) and spiritual transgressions (violating Shabbat or kashrut) when discussing punishments meted out in Beit Din. The Jewish community can – and must – force each individual Jew to adhere to the Torah. The fact that modern courts lack the jurisdiction and power to mete out these punishments in no way diminishes the very real coercive role of the Jewish court. Unlike our less schooled brothers and sisters, we understand that mitzvot are neither "good deeds" nor positive acts. Mitzvot are commandments. God doesn't ask us to follow them. He commands us, warning us that should we fail to comply we will ultimately suffer the consequences. What are mitzvot if not a form of coercion? More importantly, how do we square this perspective with our basic understandings of freedom of choice inherent in modern life?
This notion of coercion appears in several places in Emor. Hashem commands us to sanctify the Kohen. As our representative before Hashem in the Beit Hamikdash, the Kohen himself enjoys a higher level of kedushah that demands special behavior. He cannot defile himself, other than for immediate family members. He cannot marry certain types of women, such as converts and divorcees. וקדשתו – "and you shall sanctify him," the Torah tells us.
Yet, in two separate places, Rashi inserts the notion of coercion. What if the Kohen – born a Kohen against his will – doesn't want to adhere to the rules? He desires neither the rights of Terumah, nor the obligations of his Kehunah. What if he falls in love with a pious convert and wishes to abrogate his kehunah and lead a "normal" life? Sorry – that's not permitted. Rashi (on 21:8) explains, על כרחו – "against his will – if he does not wish to divorce [such a woman after he married her in violation of halachah], they must lash him and afflict him until he does divorce her.] The Kohen doesn't have a choice. His father was a Kohen (yes, we all know the joke), so he must bear not just the rights, but the responsibilities of that kehunah as well. (see also Rashi on 21:6)
Coercion again appears at the conclusion of the chapter. Now speaking to the entire nation Hashem tells us,

וּשְׁמַרְתֶּם, מִצְו‍ֹתַי, וַעֲשִׂיתֶם, אֹתָם: אֲנִי, ה'. וְלֹא תְחַלְּלוּ, אֶת-שֵׁם קָדְשִׁי, וְנִקְדַּשְׁתִּי, בְּתוֹךְ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל: אֲנִי ה' מְקַדִּשְׁכֶם.
And you shall guard my commandments and do them, I am Hashem. And you shall not defile My holy name, and I will be sanctified in the midst of the Children of Israel, I am Hashem who sanctifies you.

And yet, when we look at Rashi, he again interprets these verses in a rather striking manner. What does it mean that we must sanctify Hashem's name? Says Rashi, "Give yourself over [to be killed] and sanctify my name." Here Hashem tells us that we must be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to protect and defend His sanctity.
Somewhat surprisingly, in each case the coercion appears in the form of Kedushah. Holiness isn't a feeling of spirituality; some vague sense of godliness or specialness. Rather, holiness emanates directly from a willingness to bend our own will to God's; to submit to His desire and sublimate ourselves. The Kohen achieves great kedushah precisely because he doesn't have a choice. He is kadosh – whether he likes it or not.
What's true for the Kohen applies to each of us as well. Every Jew was born into the גוי קדוש – Hashem's holy people. We all wear that mantle of kedushah on our shoulders, not despite the fact that it was forced upon us, but because of it. The real question we must ask ourselves is: do we see that Kedushah as a yoke and a burden forced upon us against our will, or a crown of glory bringing God's holiness into the world.
That's a choice that only we can make.

Yom Hazikaron 5769 - Remembering the Chatual Family

Yad Binyamin is a wonderful mixing bowl: Israelis (mostly) and Anglos; but even more significantly, Yad Binyamin brought in many residents of Gush Katif after the Disengagement (i.e. expulsion). I'll write more about this mix and the benefits that it brings to all of us in another post. That's not my point today.
At last night's Yom Hazikaron ceremony, the organizers dedicated part of the program to those people from the Gush (Katif - we just call it "The Gush", which many Americans confuse for Gush Etzion) who were murdered in terrorist attacks. Watching the names scroll up the screen, I found myself wishing that every name was the last one, and that there would be no more names of murdered women, men, children. Of course the number of killed stayed the same - but each name rising up that screen brings another pang of pain; another family destroyed.
Then I saw a set of names that I recognized. The Chatual family. You may not remember, but Tali Chatuel, together with her four daughters, was murdered in cold blood five years ago - right around this time of year. I remember the devastation we felt even in Michigan; the sadness and anguish and pain.
And I also remembered that I spoke about Tali and her children in shul that Shabbat - which was Parshat Emor. I would like to share that drashah with you, as I think it still carries a powerful message for each of us. You can download the drashah here.
May we elevate the memories of Tali, 34, Hila, aged 11, Hadar, 9, Roni, 7, and Meirav, 2 - through the ways we improve ourselves in their memories.

Table Talk for Emor 5768

In honor of Yom Ha'atzmaut, I would like to share with you a thought sent to me by my good friend Rabbi Dov Lipman of Beit Shemesh:

The great Hassidic Rebbe of Sadigora, Rabbi Avraham Yaakov Friedman of blessed memory lived in Vienna. When the Nazis took over Vienna they sought to humiliate the Jews by forcing the great sage to sweep the streets of the city to the taunts and laughter of Austrian onlookers.
The German soldiers handed the Rebbe a broom, but while he swept, he recited a silent prayer: "Master of the Universe, may I yet merit to sweep the streets of the Land of Israel."
The Nazis then gave him a large flag and forced him to hoist it over a tall building. This time the rebbe intoned, "Master of the Universe, may I yet merit to raise the flag of Israel over a high place in the Land of Israel."
After surviving the war, the Rebbe was determined to fulfill his vision. And so, each year, on Independence Day, he would rise early, take a broom in hand, and proceed to sweep the streets of Tel Aviv in honor of God's answer to his prayer. And then the elderly rabbi would ascend to the top of Tel Aviv's Great Synagogue, and raise a large Israeli flag proudly for all to see.
The next time you find yourself either questioning the significance of the State of Israel on the one side of the spectrum or saddened by the lowly state of the country you love and its leadership on the other - think back to the Rebbe of Sadigora, with a broom in one hand, a flag in the other, and a heart full of gratitude to God for the miracle that is the modern State of Israel.
(adapted from article by Michael Freund)

Table Talk -- Emor 5767

אמור תשס”ז

The Gemara in Shabbos (88b-89a) relates that when Moshe climbs Mount Sinai to receive the Torah on behalf of the Jewish people, the angels protest. How, they ask, can God degrade the Holy Torah by allowing it in to exist in our lowly, physical world? Instead of answering Himself, God prompts Moshe to answer.

“Tell me,” Moshe asks them, “I notice that it says in the Torah, ‘do not kill,’ ‘do not steal,’ and ‘do not commit adultery.’ Do you angels have jealousy up here? Do you have an evil inclination here in the heavens?”

Immediately the angels acquiesce to God’s wishes to grant the Torah to the Jewish people.

Kli Yakkar uses this story to explain a curious detail about one of the sacrifices offered on Shavuos. The Torah tells us that on the holiday of fiftieth day of the Omer (which we call Shavuos), the Jewish people must offer a מנחה חדשה – a new grain sacrifice – to God. While the Omer offering brought on Pesach consists of smaller measurement of barley, this new offering must consist of fine flour, and חמץ תאפינה – must be baked as Chametz. Why must it specifically be Chametz?

Many commentators explain that chametz represents the yetzer hara -- the evil inclination. As Moshe argued on Mount Sinai, the only antidote to help us fight this inclination is the Torah. Therefore, God commands us to bring an offering of chametz on Shavuos, to remind us how the gift of the Torah that God gave to the Jewish people on Shavuos can help us overcome the chametz in our hearts.