In response to the deaths of his 24,000 talmidim, Rabbi Akiva said of the pasuk v’ahavta l’reiacha kamocha (love your peer as yourself) (Leviticus 19:18) that it is a klal gadol batorah (a big general law). Rabbi Akiva’s students died because they did not treat each other each other with proper honor; therefore, Rabbi Akiva learned to stress the need for one to love his fellow Jew like he would love himself.
But Rabbi Akiva’s words do not seem to teach us anything new. Could one suggest that without Rabbi Akiva we would never have identified this mitzvah as the crux of all mitzvos in the Torah? Certainly not, for years before Rabbi Akiva was even born, a geir (convert) asked Hillel the Elder to teach him the entire Torah on “one foot,” and Hillel cited, “Anything you would unto like done unto you, do not do unto others. The rest of the Torah is [this axiom’s] explanation” (Mesechet Sahbbat 31a). Hillel tells the convert to treat his neighbors with the same care that he would treat himself, and Hillel considers this lesson the axiom upon which the entire Torah is structured. What then does Rabbi Akiva’s “klal gadol” teach that Hillel had not already taught?
Perhaps Rabbi Akiva said the lesson of v’ahavta not only as a response to the deaths of his 24,000 students, but in addition as the answer to an equally troubling dilemma, namely a paradox which arises from the first half of the same pasuk. The pasuk opens, lo sikom v’lo sitor es b’nei amecha, do not take revenge and do not bear a grudge against the people of your nation. Rashi comments that these two commandments address the identical scenario: Reuvein asks for a favor from his neighbor, Shimon, and Shimon refuses to help. The next day, Shimon asks to borrow Reuvein’s axe. What is Reuvien supposed to do? On one hand, if he refuses to lend his axe to Shimon, he would be taking revenge for his neighbor’s selfishness. On the other hand, lending his axe to Shimon would be no different than saying “I’m better than you, for you wouldn’t help me, but I’ll still help you in spite of your selfishness,” a truly begrudging gesture. The Torah seems to force Reuvein to sin simply at the hands of his neighbor’s actions!
Therefore we must accept that neither lo sikom nor lo sitor can depend solely on Shimon’s perception of Reuvein’s actions. Reuvein has every right not to lend the axe to Shimon if he requires it for his own needs, even if this disappoints Shimon. And he may certainly lend it to Shimon, but must have pure intentions in mind, even if Shimon walks away feeling insulted. Instead, it is Reuvein’s decision process which exclusively determines whether his actions constitute a fulfillment or a violation of these commandments. Because Hillel’s rule determines the law from the neighbor’s viewpoint, his axiom has no solution to the axe lending paradox. However, Rabbi Akiva’s modification does.
Rabbi Akiva teaches us that the mitzvah of v’ahavta l’reiacha kamocha cannot be measured solely by a person’s actions. A person must understand that the love he shows to his neighbor may not necessarily show externally in his decision to lend or withhold an axe, but still must be present internally. It was to this lesson that Rabbi Akiva proclaimed “zeh klal gadol batorah,” for this law redefines the guidelines for fulfillment of every other mitzvah in the Torah. We come to recognize that it is never enough to simply perform good deeds, that we must also have the purest of intentions.
After his students’ deaths, Rabbi Akiva gathered five new talmidim (students): Rabbi Meir, Rabbi Yehuda, Rabbi Yose, Rabbi Elazar, and Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai. These five regenerated Torah study back to life, which was threatened with dormancy, and their teachings are recorded throughout the Mishna, Tosefta, and Breisaos. But what happened to the Torah of the 24,000 students? Though they died, surely someone must have remembered a teaching or two of theirs. Yet aside from the five, no other Rabbi quoted in tannaitic sources was a student of Rabbi Akiva’s. How is this so?
Perhaps Rabbi Akiva’s lesson was not only a solution to preventing future deaths between colleagues, but also an active response to the loss of his own talmidim. While the product of his students’ effort may have been Torah, Rabbi Akiva realized that the process by which this Torah came about was tainted by greed and disrespect. One should not learn from the products of greed and disrespect. Rabbi Akiva did not forget his old students’ Torah; instead, he chose to erase it and to start anew with thoughtful, caring talmidim, for the conduits of Oral Torah must be pure in both content and intention. May we learn from and build upon this lesson, to lead honest lives and show proper honor, in fulfillment of Rabbi Akiva’s ever-essential klal gadol.
6.5.05
21.4.05
Parashat Acharei Mos
As an introduction to the various Issurei Gilu’ei Arayos listed in this week’s parasha, the pasuk prefaces “Lo Sikrivu LiGalos Ervah, Ani Hashem.” Rashi comments on the words Ani Hashem that the pasuk adds these seemingly unnecessary words to remind us that Hashem is “Ne’eman LiShaleim Sachar,” trusted to issue reward [for our keeping of the Mitzvos, like distancing ourselves from Gilu’ei Arayos]. But how can Hashem give us Schar for not doing a Mitzvas Lo Sa’asei? Of all places to remind us aboutSchar, the pasuk interjects this in the middle of an Azhara! Wouldn’t a lesson about Onesh be more fitting?
The Mizrachi answers that separation from Gilu’ei Arayos is much more active than not doing a Mitzvas Lo Sa’asei. The Schar is only paid for a person who is put into a situation where he could have violated the Mitzvah and then fought off his Yeitzer. One must wonder, however, why the Torah did not make separation from Gilu’ei Arayos into a Mitzvas Assei if Hashem intended to reward us for this action. There are plenty of other Mitzvos, like Yom Tov or Hashavas Aveida, that are both Mitzvos Asei and Lo Sa’asei, so if Rashi meant to say that we receive Schar for this Mitzvah, why wouldn’t the pasuk have been structured as a Mitzvas Asei? Furthermore, we still have no explanation why Rashi should talk about potential Schar and not potential Onesh in the middle of an Azhara.
It should be noted that Rashi’s comment “Ne’eman LiShaleim Schar” is not an isolated statement; rather it is the continuation to a much longer explanation on pasuk 2. The pasuk there introduces the concept of Chukos HaGoyim and states “Ani Hashem Elokeichem.” There, Rashi quotes the Sifra’s explanation of this seemingly superfluous declaration:
Rebbi said: It was known and obvious to [Hashem] that [Bnei Yisrael] were destined to resort to Arayos in Ezra’s time. Therefore, he came to them within His decree “Ani Hashem Elokeichem,” [meaning] know who is decreeing upon you, [for I am a] judge who collects payment, and I am trusted to issue reward. (Sifra 13:5)
There are several problems with this Sifra. First of all, if the words Ani Hashem Elokeichem directly regard the commandment of Gilu’ei Arayos, why should they precede the pasukim about Chukos HaGoyim? Why not write about Ma’asei Artzei Mitzrayim ViKina’an first, and then introduce Arayos with this pasuk? Also, why do we consider Hashem “trusted to issue reward?” Why not simply regard Him as the Dayan HaPorei’ah U’MiShaleim Schar?
But before we address these smaller problems, we should first wonder what Rebbi meant to teach about Hashem and His decree altogether. Does his comment to mean that Hashem did not want us to sin, and therefore He reminded us about all the bad that would happen to us should we err and all the good we would earn should we act properly? No! He clearly states that Hashem knew we would sin in the future; the Aveirah was inevitable. Sure enough, the people still sinned in Ezra’s days, despite the fact that Hashem had stated Ani Hashem Elokeichem! So what then did Hashem accomplish by saying “Ani Hashem Elokeichem”?! What is Rebbi trying to teach us?
The gemara in Mesechet Avoda Zara offers a tremendous insight – a critical Yisod – regarding the concept of Hashem collecting payment and issuing reward to Klal Yisrael:
[Some heretics once asked Rebbi Avahu:] the pasuk says “Rak Eschem Yadati MiKol Mishpachos HaAdamah, Al Kein Efkod Aleichem Es Kol Avonoseichem,” [Hashem says] ‘I love you [Bnei Yisrael] more than all the other nations of the world, therefore I will make you pay for all of your sins.’ When a person is angry, does he vent his anger on his best friend?! Of course not! Why then does Hashem vent His frustration on you if He loves you the most? Rabbi Avahu answered: what is this [pasuk] like? Like a man who lends money to two people: one friend and one enemy. From the friend, he goes out of his way and is willing to trouble himself to collect payments in small sums, little by little. But from the enemy, he waits until the end of the loan period and then collects it all in one heap. So too, Hashem treats us like His friend and makes us pay for our sins over a long duration so that all we will have when Olam Habah arrives are our Mitzvos. But He does not collect from the Goyim, His enemies, until their day of judgment, and so none of them will merit Olam Haba. (Avoda Zara, 4a)
Rabbi Avahu’s response turns our perspective of Hashem’s system of punishment upside-down! The fact that Hashem punishes us for our Aveiros does not reflect Midaas HaDin; in fact, it is actually something Hashem does out of Rachamim and out of His love for us. Therefore the pasuk uses the name Hashem, and not Elokim, in order to reflect the Midas Rachamim present in His judgment. Also, we now understand why He is Ne’eman LiShaleim Schar. Because He doesn’t mete out Schar until Olam Haba, all we see are our punishments and Puraniot; therefore, the pasuk teaches us that we shouldn’t worry; we will receive our rewards in due time.
And we can even come to understand the tremendous love Hashem expresses to us through giving us a Mitzvah that He knows we cannot keep! It seems like the strangest thing in the world. Did Hashem actually create Man without the potential to fulfill all 613 Mitzvos – or even 7 Mitzvos, for that matter – to the fullest degree?! It seems unfair. To a certain degree it is very unfair, but we can also view it as Hashem’s way of guaranteeing that only His chosen nation will merit Olam Habah. If both we and the Goyim sin, then everyone will end up in debt to Hashem. This gives Hashem the awesome ability to select who will pay for these inevitable sins over a long span of time, and who will pay for them on judgment day, what the gemara in Avoda Zara calls Yom Eidam (see dafim 2-4).
The lesson of “Ani Hashem Elokeichem” stretches way beyond the simple reminder to do the right thing. It is the recognition that sometimes Hashem gives us difficult Mitzvos and expects exactly the opposite results! However, Hashem promises to always be Porei’ah from us, and so he becomes Ne’eman LiShaleim Schar.
But this lesson is only helpful for us, and it only eases our concerns regarding the impossibility of perfectly observing Issurei Arayos, if we truly recognize that we are Hashem’s friend and the Goyim are His enemy. That’s why the pasuk cannot immediately segue into Hilchos Arayos. Instead, we spend four pasukim detailing the concept of Chukim, both the Chukim of the Goyim and the Chukim of the Torah. We come to recognize that there is a significant difference between us and the other nations of the world. We recognize how their customs and traditions are meaningless and hollow, while our customs are the King’s decree. And we are thus assured that we will maintain our close relationship to Hashem through even our toughest times. It is now clear that Chukos HaGoyim does not only connect to the concept of Arayos, there is no more fitting introduction to the concept. And there is no more fitting Mitzvah for Klal Yisrael to embrace than Arayos, especially within the parasha that thoroughly details Hashem’s guarantee to forgive all of our Avonos.
The Mizrachi answers that separation from Gilu’ei Arayos is much more active than not doing a Mitzvas Lo Sa’asei. The Schar is only paid for a person who is put into a situation where he could have violated the Mitzvah and then fought off his Yeitzer. One must wonder, however, why the Torah did not make separation from Gilu’ei Arayos into a Mitzvas Assei if Hashem intended to reward us for this action. There are plenty of other Mitzvos, like Yom Tov or Hashavas Aveida, that are both Mitzvos Asei and Lo Sa’asei, so if Rashi meant to say that we receive Schar for this Mitzvah, why wouldn’t the pasuk have been structured as a Mitzvas Asei? Furthermore, we still have no explanation why Rashi should talk about potential Schar and not potential Onesh in the middle of an Azhara.
It should be noted that Rashi’s comment “Ne’eman LiShaleim Schar” is not an isolated statement; rather it is the continuation to a much longer explanation on pasuk 2. The pasuk there introduces the concept of Chukos HaGoyim and states “Ani Hashem Elokeichem.” There, Rashi quotes the Sifra’s explanation of this seemingly superfluous declaration:
Rebbi said: It was known and obvious to [Hashem] that [Bnei Yisrael] were destined to resort to Arayos in Ezra’s time. Therefore, he came to them within His decree “Ani Hashem Elokeichem,” [meaning] know who is decreeing upon you, [for I am a] judge who collects payment, and I am trusted to issue reward. (Sifra 13:5)
There are several problems with this Sifra. First of all, if the words Ani Hashem Elokeichem directly regard the commandment of Gilu’ei Arayos, why should they precede the pasukim about Chukos HaGoyim? Why not write about Ma’asei Artzei Mitzrayim ViKina’an first, and then introduce Arayos with this pasuk? Also, why do we consider Hashem “trusted to issue reward?” Why not simply regard Him as the Dayan HaPorei’ah U’MiShaleim Schar?
But before we address these smaller problems, we should first wonder what Rebbi meant to teach about Hashem and His decree altogether. Does his comment to mean that Hashem did not want us to sin, and therefore He reminded us about all the bad that would happen to us should we err and all the good we would earn should we act properly? No! He clearly states that Hashem knew we would sin in the future; the Aveirah was inevitable. Sure enough, the people still sinned in Ezra’s days, despite the fact that Hashem had stated Ani Hashem Elokeichem! So what then did Hashem accomplish by saying “Ani Hashem Elokeichem”?! What is Rebbi trying to teach us?
The gemara in Mesechet Avoda Zara offers a tremendous insight – a critical Yisod – regarding the concept of Hashem collecting payment and issuing reward to Klal Yisrael:
[Some heretics once asked Rebbi Avahu:] the pasuk says “Rak Eschem Yadati MiKol Mishpachos HaAdamah, Al Kein Efkod Aleichem Es Kol Avonoseichem,” [Hashem says] ‘I love you [Bnei Yisrael] more than all the other nations of the world, therefore I will make you pay for all of your sins.’ When a person is angry, does he vent his anger on his best friend?! Of course not! Why then does Hashem vent His frustration on you if He loves you the most? Rabbi Avahu answered: what is this [pasuk] like? Like a man who lends money to two people: one friend and one enemy. From the friend, he goes out of his way and is willing to trouble himself to collect payments in small sums, little by little. But from the enemy, he waits until the end of the loan period and then collects it all in one heap. So too, Hashem treats us like His friend and makes us pay for our sins over a long duration so that all we will have when Olam Habah arrives are our Mitzvos. But He does not collect from the Goyim, His enemies, until their day of judgment, and so none of them will merit Olam Haba. (Avoda Zara, 4a)
Rabbi Avahu’s response turns our perspective of Hashem’s system of punishment upside-down! The fact that Hashem punishes us for our Aveiros does not reflect Midaas HaDin; in fact, it is actually something Hashem does out of Rachamim and out of His love for us. Therefore the pasuk uses the name Hashem, and not Elokim, in order to reflect the Midas Rachamim present in His judgment. Also, we now understand why He is Ne’eman LiShaleim Schar. Because He doesn’t mete out Schar until Olam Haba, all we see are our punishments and Puraniot; therefore, the pasuk teaches us that we shouldn’t worry; we will receive our rewards in due time.
And we can even come to understand the tremendous love Hashem expresses to us through giving us a Mitzvah that He knows we cannot keep! It seems like the strangest thing in the world. Did Hashem actually create Man without the potential to fulfill all 613 Mitzvos – or even 7 Mitzvos, for that matter – to the fullest degree?! It seems unfair. To a certain degree it is very unfair, but we can also view it as Hashem’s way of guaranteeing that only His chosen nation will merit Olam Habah. If both we and the Goyim sin, then everyone will end up in debt to Hashem. This gives Hashem the awesome ability to select who will pay for these inevitable sins over a long span of time, and who will pay for them on judgment day, what the gemara in Avoda Zara calls Yom Eidam (see dafim 2-4).
The lesson of “Ani Hashem Elokeichem” stretches way beyond the simple reminder to do the right thing. It is the recognition that sometimes Hashem gives us difficult Mitzvos and expects exactly the opposite results! However, Hashem promises to always be Porei’ah from us, and so he becomes Ne’eman LiShaleim Schar.
But this lesson is only helpful for us, and it only eases our concerns regarding the impossibility of perfectly observing Issurei Arayos, if we truly recognize that we are Hashem’s friend and the Goyim are His enemy. That’s why the pasuk cannot immediately segue into Hilchos Arayos. Instead, we spend four pasukim detailing the concept of Chukim, both the Chukim of the Goyim and the Chukim of the Torah. We come to recognize that there is a significant difference between us and the other nations of the world. We recognize how their customs and traditions are meaningless and hollow, while our customs are the King’s decree. And we are thus assured that we will maintain our close relationship to Hashem through even our toughest times. It is now clear that Chukos HaGoyim does not only connect to the concept of Arayos, there is no more fitting introduction to the concept. And there is no more fitting Mitzvah for Klal Yisrael to embrace than Arayos, especially within the parasha that thoroughly details Hashem’s guarantee to forgive all of our Avonos.
19.4.05
Pesach 5765
Sippur Yitzeas Mitrayim begins with the paragraph of Mitichilah Ovdei Avodah Zara Hayu Avoseinu and segues into the pasukim of Arami Oveid Avi. We open at a point where we couldn’t be more distant from Hashem, and ultimately achieve closeness with Hashem and a separation from the other nations. (Rambam, Hichos Chametz U’Matzah, 7:4)
But along the way, we get chronologically sidetracked from what the Rambam tells us to focus on. We make mention of Terach Avi Avraham and then of Avraham himself, then of Yitzchak, and then of Yaakov and Eisav, and Yaakov and his sons heading down to Mitzrayim. The obvious next segment of this sequence should be Shibud Mitzrayim, yet we break our train of thought and retrace history back to Avraham and the Bris Bein HaBisarim. We thank Hashem for keeping his promise to Avraham that we would go down to Mitzrayim and, 400 years later, emerge a free nation.
OK, so now we should get back to the story and detail how Hashem kept His promise. Right? Wrong! In fact, we totally abandon the Hagadah’s history lesson and talk about how all the nations of the world hate us. It must be known before we continue any further into the Hagadah that Paroh wasn’t the only person who tried to kill us, but rather in every generation, they try to murder us. And miraculously Hashem saves us each and every time. What does this paragraph have anything to do with Yitze’as Mitzrayim?
Lets slow down for a second. What really is the point of this paragraph? Is it really inserted to pique our awareness of anti-Semitism? The words certainly suggest so, but then it wouldn’t have to end with thanks to Hashem for saving us every generation. Perhaps this no more than an extension of the previous Baruch Shomer Havtachaso, a tribute to Hashem for keeping us alive in every generation, because had it not been for His promise to Avraham, who knows if we would have been alive to make it down to Mitzrayim altogether. Tzei U’Limad Ma Bikeish Lavan HaArami! We must thank Hashem for keeping us alive so that we could journey down to Mitzrayim in the first place! And that’s why ViHee She’Amdah belongs exactly where we read it. And so everything fits together nicely…
Except we haven’t explained why we need to thank Hashem for keeping His promise. Somehow, the Bris Bein HaBisarim plays a vital role within our acknowledgement of the relationship we eventually establish with HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Strangely, this acknowledgement somehow belongs out of its proper frame in history’s timeline and instead attached to Yaakov’s journey down to Mitzrayim. Why? The paragraph of Tzei U’Limad seems to come as an explanation of everything we acknowledge in ViHee She’Amdah, so perhaps we should look a little further into the Hagadah’s story.
In Tzei U’Limad, we seem to focus on the evil of Lavan, the fact that he wanted to destroy the entire Jewish nation while Paroh only wanted to wipe out the males. What a perfect night to belittle Shibud Mitzrayim! And who really cares how much Lavan hated us? Lavan hated us, Mitzrayim hated us, both wanted to destroy the nation, both are remembered in the ViHee She’amdah, we were saved from both by Hashem. Does this really need to become a competition over who hates us more?
Which forces us to wonder if even Tzei U’Limad was intended to make us aware of Anti-Semitism. If Tzei U’Limad is merely a clarification of ViHee She’Amdah, then it can only serve as an analysis of anti-Semitism if ViHee She’Amdah does. So Tzei U’Limad is not an analysis of anti-Semitism after all. Rather, our awareness of how much Lavan hated us is the very form by which we thank Hashem. And if we can prove this, then maybe we can also come to understand why the thanks to Hashem we offer with our Bikurim must begin with the recognition that Arami Oveid Avi, as Rashi translates: (Lavan the) Arami sought to destroy our forefather (Yaakov).
What event in history does Arami Oveid Avi revisit and recount? Rashi in Ki Tavo (26:5) says this is a reference to the day when Lavan chased after Yaakov. Yaakov was living three days away from his father-in-law when he fled. Therefore, it took three days for Lavan to discover his son-in-law’s actions, and he furiously chased after Yaakov with lethal intent. When Lavan began his pursuit, Yaakov had a six day head start (as the messengers traveled three days east, Yaakov traveled three days west), but Lavan’s hatred fueled his chase and he caught up in only one day. Hashem appeared to Lavan in a dream that night and warned him to speak kindly to Yaakov the next morning, and it was this miraculous dream that saved Yaakov’s life. So Arami Oveid Avi refers to Lavan’s redifah.
To review, Lavan’s redifah was Derech Shivas Yamim, a seven day journey traveled in one day. Keep two things in mind: 1) Yaakov fled so fast, he could travel as fast as the messengers who returned to Lavan to tell over the bad news. 2) Lavan STILL caught up in one day! Fueled by Anti-Semitism, Lavan’s hatred of Yaakov was the sole reason he ever caught up.
So Lavan miraculously reached to Yaakov, and not a moment too soon, since virtually immediately after Yaakov’s confrontation with Lavan comes his confrontation with Eisav. How soon we forget that Lavan wasn’t the only man chasing after Yaakov with thoughts to kill him.
The years that Yaakov spent with Lavan taught him how to coexist with a man like Eisav, but even after those twenty years, Yaakov still only felt comfortable dealing with tricksters from a comfortable distance. Yaakov’s only hope to reunite with his brother was to learn to coexist peacefully, in close proximity, and that was something he learned to do when Lavan confronted him this last time. After this final confrontation, Yaakov undergoes a tremendous metamorphosis; he puts his head down to sleep for the first time in twenty years, and right next to Lavan. Only then is he prepared to, in the upcoming parasha, save his life a second time; only then has he properly learned how to coexist with Edom, as is clear to Eisav, who offers to travel alongside Yaakov. Though Yaakov refuses his brother’s offer, he says he will catch up and travel together in the future.
Tzei U’Limad how much Lavan wanted to kill us, for if he hadn’t such a strong desire, Eisav would have certainly finished what Lavan had initially set out to do. It’s also worth noting that ViHee She’Amdah is very unclear as to whom it refers. SheLo Echad Bilvad Amad Aleinu LiKaloseinu, Elah SheBiChol Dor VaDor Omdim Aleinu LiKaloseinu. Shouldn’t it have read SheLo Dor Echad, and furthermore, why does it change from singular to plural? There are really two aspects to our recognition in ViHee She’amdah. First, we must recognize that Shibud Mitzrayim was not the only time in history we faced persecution. But we must also be aware that in those other generations, there is no single adversary. Lavan wasn’t the only foe out to destroy Yaakov. And yet Hashem arranged history in such a way that we could deal with all our enemies, one way or another. That’s the thanks and acknowledgement we express within Baruch Shomer Havtachaso; that’s the recognition of Arami Oveid Avi. And so when we recognize VaYeired Mitzraimah VaYagar Sham when we bring Bekurim, we make sure to note Arami Oveid Avi, for there is no greater proof that Hashem is Mechasheiv Es HaKeitz than if we look back at history and recognize how even the Anti-Semetism we face, ironically enough, is what keeps us alive.
But along the way, we get chronologically sidetracked from what the Rambam tells us to focus on. We make mention of Terach Avi Avraham and then of Avraham himself, then of Yitzchak, and then of Yaakov and Eisav, and Yaakov and his sons heading down to Mitzrayim. The obvious next segment of this sequence should be Shibud Mitzrayim, yet we break our train of thought and retrace history back to Avraham and the Bris Bein HaBisarim. We thank Hashem for keeping his promise to Avraham that we would go down to Mitzrayim and, 400 years later, emerge a free nation.
OK, so now we should get back to the story and detail how Hashem kept His promise. Right? Wrong! In fact, we totally abandon the Hagadah’s history lesson and talk about how all the nations of the world hate us. It must be known before we continue any further into the Hagadah that Paroh wasn’t the only person who tried to kill us, but rather in every generation, they try to murder us. And miraculously Hashem saves us each and every time. What does this paragraph have anything to do with Yitze’as Mitzrayim?
Lets slow down for a second. What really is the point of this paragraph? Is it really inserted to pique our awareness of anti-Semitism? The words certainly suggest so, but then it wouldn’t have to end with thanks to Hashem for saving us every generation. Perhaps this no more than an extension of the previous Baruch Shomer Havtachaso, a tribute to Hashem for keeping us alive in every generation, because had it not been for His promise to Avraham, who knows if we would have been alive to make it down to Mitzrayim altogether. Tzei U’Limad Ma Bikeish Lavan HaArami! We must thank Hashem for keeping us alive so that we could journey down to Mitzrayim in the first place! And that’s why ViHee She’Amdah belongs exactly where we read it. And so everything fits together nicely…
Except we haven’t explained why we need to thank Hashem for keeping His promise. Somehow, the Bris Bein HaBisarim plays a vital role within our acknowledgement of the relationship we eventually establish with HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Strangely, this acknowledgement somehow belongs out of its proper frame in history’s timeline and instead attached to Yaakov’s journey down to Mitzrayim. Why? The paragraph of Tzei U’Limad seems to come as an explanation of everything we acknowledge in ViHee She’Amdah, so perhaps we should look a little further into the Hagadah’s story.
In Tzei U’Limad, we seem to focus on the evil of Lavan, the fact that he wanted to destroy the entire Jewish nation while Paroh only wanted to wipe out the males. What a perfect night to belittle Shibud Mitzrayim! And who really cares how much Lavan hated us? Lavan hated us, Mitzrayim hated us, both wanted to destroy the nation, both are remembered in the ViHee She’amdah, we were saved from both by Hashem. Does this really need to become a competition over who hates us more?
Which forces us to wonder if even Tzei U’Limad was intended to make us aware of Anti-Semitism. If Tzei U’Limad is merely a clarification of ViHee She’Amdah, then it can only serve as an analysis of anti-Semitism if ViHee She’Amdah does. So Tzei U’Limad is not an analysis of anti-Semitism after all. Rather, our awareness of how much Lavan hated us is the very form by which we thank Hashem. And if we can prove this, then maybe we can also come to understand why the thanks to Hashem we offer with our Bikurim must begin with the recognition that Arami Oveid Avi, as Rashi translates: (Lavan the) Arami sought to destroy our forefather (Yaakov).
What event in history does Arami Oveid Avi revisit and recount? Rashi in Ki Tavo (26:5) says this is a reference to the day when Lavan chased after Yaakov. Yaakov was living three days away from his father-in-law when he fled. Therefore, it took three days for Lavan to discover his son-in-law’s actions, and he furiously chased after Yaakov with lethal intent. When Lavan began his pursuit, Yaakov had a six day head start (as the messengers traveled three days east, Yaakov traveled three days west), but Lavan’s hatred fueled his chase and he caught up in only one day. Hashem appeared to Lavan in a dream that night and warned him to speak kindly to Yaakov the next morning, and it was this miraculous dream that saved Yaakov’s life. So Arami Oveid Avi refers to Lavan’s redifah.
To review, Lavan’s redifah was Derech Shivas Yamim, a seven day journey traveled in one day. Keep two things in mind: 1) Yaakov fled so fast, he could travel as fast as the messengers who returned to Lavan to tell over the bad news. 2) Lavan STILL caught up in one day! Fueled by Anti-Semitism, Lavan’s hatred of Yaakov was the sole reason he ever caught up.
So Lavan miraculously reached to Yaakov, and not a moment too soon, since virtually immediately after Yaakov’s confrontation with Lavan comes his confrontation with Eisav. How soon we forget that Lavan wasn’t the only man chasing after Yaakov with thoughts to kill him.
The years that Yaakov spent with Lavan taught him how to coexist with a man like Eisav, but even after those twenty years, Yaakov still only felt comfortable dealing with tricksters from a comfortable distance. Yaakov’s only hope to reunite with his brother was to learn to coexist peacefully, in close proximity, and that was something he learned to do when Lavan confronted him this last time. After this final confrontation, Yaakov undergoes a tremendous metamorphosis; he puts his head down to sleep for the first time in twenty years, and right next to Lavan. Only then is he prepared to, in the upcoming parasha, save his life a second time; only then has he properly learned how to coexist with Edom, as is clear to Eisav, who offers to travel alongside Yaakov. Though Yaakov refuses his brother’s offer, he says he will catch up and travel together in the future.
Tzei U’Limad how much Lavan wanted to kill us, for if he hadn’t such a strong desire, Eisav would have certainly finished what Lavan had initially set out to do. It’s also worth noting that ViHee She’Amdah is very unclear as to whom it refers. SheLo Echad Bilvad Amad Aleinu LiKaloseinu, Elah SheBiChol Dor VaDor Omdim Aleinu LiKaloseinu. Shouldn’t it have read SheLo Dor Echad, and furthermore, why does it change from singular to plural? There are really two aspects to our recognition in ViHee She’amdah. First, we must recognize that Shibud Mitzrayim was not the only time in history we faced persecution. But we must also be aware that in those other generations, there is no single adversary. Lavan wasn’t the only foe out to destroy Yaakov. And yet Hashem arranged history in such a way that we could deal with all our enemies, one way or another. That’s the thanks and acknowledgement we express within Baruch Shomer Havtachaso; that’s the recognition of Arami Oveid Avi. And so when we recognize VaYeired Mitzraimah VaYagar Sham when we bring Bekurim, we make sure to note Arami Oveid Avi, for there is no greater proof that Hashem is Mechasheiv Es HaKeitz than if we look back at history and recognize how even the Anti-Semetism we face, ironically enough, is what keeps us alive.
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