Parashat BiChukosai

Everything happens for a purpose. The Klalos of Parashat BiChukosai are terrifying and gruesome, but they are not petty. Hashem promises His chosen nation that He will never permanently abandon them, and that they will emerge atoned through their suffering.

“Then they will appease [Me] over their sins,” they shall atone over their sins through their suffering.

Rashi, VaYikra 26:41

This suffering somehow generates a shift in the sinful nation’s mentality. The Malbim explains that Klal Yisrael stray from Hashem because of their desire to act like foreign nations. When Hashem exiles His nation to these foreign lands, they expect to relinquish their former identities and assume those of their new neighbors. However, through G-d’s benevolence, the foreign nations never accept the Jews as their own. And after ages of relentless oppression, the Jews will ultimately discover and admit to their true identity, their everlasting bond to Hashem, and their innate drive towards His Bris Rishonim, the covenant of old.

But the Klalos are itself a contract of sorts. Hashem pairs His rebuke with a contrasting set of blessings, promising good for those who follow in His ways and bad for those who do not. Each man chooses every day between these two options. When he chooses well, Hashem rewards him. Conversely, poor decisions warrant disagreeable consequences. Presumably, any sensible man will choose the lifestyle of righteous acts over one of wicked deeds. The overall structure of this Tochacha reflects something much simpler than the Malbim’s elaborate description of Hashem’s master plan.

The Malbim therefore explains that Klal Yisrael does not simply disregard Hashem’s ways but also His presence. They blame their woes on G-d’s undeniable absence and wish for His return, yet they fail to recognize that He is responsible for every drop of their suffering, and their very reluctance to accept His involvement attests to their lack of desire for a true relationship. They wish only for unconditional good and neglect their obligation to do good for Hashem in return. And so the suffering continues today until Klal Yisrael regains its identity and sincerely, wholeheartedly, returns to Hashem.

And they will admit their sins and the treacherous sins of their fathers, and [they will admit] that they obstinately went [against My ways]. I too will act obstinately with them and bring them in the land of their enemies; perhaps then they will humble their blocked hearts and appease [Me] over their sins.

VaYikra 26:40-41

Although the Jews admit to their treacherous deeds, they do not fully repent, and Hashem continues to punish them. As the Malbim explains, until Klal Yisrael desire a unique bond with Hashem and dissociate from the ways of the other nations, they will continue to live with oppression and suffering under the hands of their enemies.

By the Malbim’s view, Hashem uses His Klalos to bring about repentance and a constructive change in the Jewish nation. Much like Brachos, the Klalos are a necessary impetus to yield true Avodas Hashem. Nonetheless, there is a clear distinction between Brachos and Klalos, for Brachos physically and psychologically benefit the nation while Klalos hinder them. However, this distinction is slightly blurred within Rashi’s understanding of Hashem’s Klalos:

“And I will bring them in the land of their enemies,” I myself will bring them. This is a favorable deed, for [Bnei Yisrael] should never say ‘since He has exiled us to foreign lands, let us act like them.’ I will not let you [claim this], rather I will establish my prophets and return you to Me.”

Rashi, VaYikra 26:41

By Rashi’s assessment, Hashem does not fully withhold favorable deeds from His nation while they sin. Rather, Hashem graciously calls for their repentance through His prophets. According to the Malbim, Hashem expects His nation to cling to the ways of foreign nations and then afterwards reconsider their decision. But Rashi claims that Hashem will never let them make such a mistake in the first place.

However, Rashi’s interpretation is contextually very difficult. Hashem first threatens, “I will treat you casually,” a clear indication of undesirable consequences, and then immediately promises to remain close to us even in exile. Even if Rashi can infer a favorable deed from the words “I will bring then in the land of their enemies,” how could he ever infer anything favorable from their context?

In truth, the very thought that Hashem intends Klalos to produce positive outcomes is really itself a surprising notion. In the Tochacha of Parashat Ki Savo, Moshe Rabbeinu makes no promises or guarantees that Hashem will save Klal Yisrael from the perilous consequences of their misdeeds. “And you will be sold into slavery and no one will purchase you,” thus ends the fate of the Jewish nation. Hashem promises neither mercy nor favorable deeds.

The gemara in Mesechet Megila (31b) provides a strong distinction between the two sets of Klalos. The Klalos of BiChukosai are all stated in the plural tense; therefore they affect the nation as a whole, not each and every individual. If the nation is good, then this will be their reward. If the nation is bad, then this will be their punishment. However, the Klalos of Ki Savo are written in the singular tense and framed as the consequences of an individual’s actions. If the individual is good, then such is his reward, and so on.

The Klalos of BiChukosai are aimed at repairing a broken nation, a nation guaranteed of salvation no matter how far they sink. In stark contrast, the Klalos of Ki Savo affect the individual, and no individual is safe from utter annihilation. Mitzrayim can sell several individuals into slavery and the nation can survive. Hashem can send His prophets to keep the masses (or maybe even the minority) along a straight path, but not every member of the nation will heed their words. Some will inevitably lose their way forever.

Perhaps according to Rashi, even this good measure is actually a curse in disguise. Obviously, for the righteous, the counsel of prophets is a welcome blessing. For those evil individuals who cling to foreign cultures and customs and do not wish to repent, the very promise that prophets will keep the nation straight is itself a curse. Hashem’s promise, aside from guaranteeing salvation, also demands change on the part of the people. And those who cannot change will simply get left behind.

The distinction between blessing and curse is not so elementary. Reward, like punishment, stimulates change, and change is all Hashem asks of His people. Even amidst the mass enslavement of His people, His prophets will guide the righteous to safety and salvation. And this itself behooves those of lesser character to change and improve, to repent as best they can. For as long as there is room for improvement, on the part of His nation, Hashem will never have reason to become fully disgusted with them.

Parashat Kedoshim

Fear your mother and father, and keep My Shabbosim, I am Hashem your G-d.

VaYikra 19:3

“And keep My Shabbosim,” [the Torah] places the observance of Shabbos next to fear of one’s father to state that although you are warned to fear your father, if he orders you to profane the Shabbos, do not listen to him. And [do listen to him when he tells you to violate] all other Mitzvos.

Rashi, VaYikra 19:3

Our parasha opens with two fundamental precepts. Rashi infers from their juxtaposition that the weight of Shabbos overwhelms one’s obligation to fear his father. But how does Rashi know which Mitzvah overwhelms the other? Perhaps the pasuk implies that one should disregard the Shabbos to fulfill his father’s command. From where does Rashi’s proof come?

The Mizrachi takes issue with Rashi’s reasoning. At the opening of Parashat VaYakheil, Moshe Rabbeinu instructs the nation to observe the Shabbos and then tells them to build the Mishkan. Rashi infers there that Moshe mentions Shmiras Shabbos before Meleches HaMishkan to express that one should not build the Mishkan on Shabbos. When confronted with a conflict between two juxtaposed Mitzvos, Rashi apparently prioritizes the former Mitzvah over the latter. (Indeed, Rashi applies this same axiom later in our parasha, 19:30, where Shmiras Shabbos precedes Meleches HaMishkan.) By this measure, when confronted with Mora Av and Shmiras Shabbos, Rashi should prioritize the former Mitzvah, Mora Av. Why does Rashi deviate from his usual axiom?

The Mizrachi challenges Rashi’s inference from an alternative angle. Rashi interprets the closing of the pasuk, “I am Hashem,” to establish a hierarchy between man, his father, and G-d. One must obey Hashem instead of his father because Hashem is also his father’s G-d. Both he and his father must obey G-d’s commandments; therefore, a father no right to tell his son to violate the Torah. Rashi here, the Mizrchi notes, seems to repeat his initial inference. Does Rashi really need two sources, a juxtaposition and a logical appeal, to derive a hierarchy between Mora Av and Shmiras Shabbos?

To answer these questions, the Mizrachi additionally notes that the disobedience of one’s father is itself a violation of the Torah. Therefore, when one’s father orders him to profane the Shabbos (or violate any other Mitzvah for that matter), he inevitably will either forgo his obligation to keep the Shabbos or his obligation to obey his father. Perhaps it is impossible to reconcile this conflict, and therefore one may choose whichever approach he deems most appropriate. Our pasuk therefore juxtaposes these two Mitzvos, thereby recognizing this conflict as having a just resolution and suggesting that one Mitzvah outright overwhelms the other. And which Mitzvah is the stronger? By closing “I am Hashem,” the pasuk logically prioritizes Shmiras Shabbos above Mora Av.

However, the Mizrachi’s approach does not sit well with me. First of all, the Mizrachi totally disregards Rashi’s axiom regarding the priority of a Mitzvah listed directly before another seemingly unrelated Mitzvah. The Mizrachi apparently does away with this axiom because the closing of the pasuk poses a strong contradiction. Nonetheless, the Mizrachi would still hold of this axiom in other instances, which leaves me to wonder why this pasuk can’t simply list Shmiras Shabbos before Mora Av and entirely do away with its closing. What more do we learn from the pasuk in its current state?

I must confess, by my feeble understanding of Rashi, I cannot agree with the Mizrachi that Rashi subscribes to any such axiom in the first place. In Parashat VaYakheil, Moshe opens with three pasukim devoted to the observance of Shabbos; the rest of his speech discusses Meleches HaMishkan. Clearly, the main topic of Moshe’s speech is Meleches HaMishkan. Why then does Moshe preface his speech with a remark about Shmiras Shabbos? If the obligation to build the Mishkan overpowers the need to keep Shabbos, then there would be no need for Moshe to mention Shmiras Shabbos, especially not before addressing his primary topic. One must therefore conclude that Moshe delayed his instruction of Meleches HaMishkan on order to discuss a Mitzvah of greater priority, namely Shmiras Shabbos. However, Rashi cannot apply any such inference to the juxtaposition of our pasuk for Parashat Kedoshim does not address any single central topic. Rashi must resort to some alternative method by which to reconcile the conflicting Mitzvos.

But before one can even begin to consider Rashi’s method of reconciliation between these conflicting Mitzvos, one must identify the source of his inference. Does Rashi’s inference come from the juxtaposition within the opening of the pasuk, or does it derive from the logical hierarchy expressed afterward? Rashi comments that one should not violate any Mitzvah by his father’s command, and his comment appears in connection to the command to keep the Shabbos. Rashi’s placement of this comment implies that his primary inference, namely that Shmiras Shabbos (and other Mitzvos for that matter) overpowers the obligation of Mora Av, precedes his interpretation of “I am Hashem.” But what then is the purpose of the pasuk’s closing passage?

Stepping back for a second, one must question the relevance of Shabbos within the pasuk altogether. If Rashi infers from “ViEs Shabsosai Tishmoru” that all Mitzvos take priority over Mora Av, then there’s nothing special about the Mitzvah of Shabbos to warrant its mention in the pasuk. All things considered, Rashi should infer the importance of Shabbos from the juxtaposition and interpret “I am Hashem” as the general concept of disregarding one’s parent’s orders when they conflict any other Mitzvah. (Indeed, the Sifsei Chachamim implies towards such an understanding of Rashi’s words. However, I cannot bring myself to agree with their approach, primarily because of Rashi’s strange placement of the comment “and so too all other Mitzvos.”)

Similar difficulties emerge from a gemara in Bava Metziya:

How do we know that if one’s father forbids him from returning a lost object that he must not listen to [his father]? “Fear your mother and father, and keep My Shabbosim, I am Hashem,” you are all obligated to honor Me. Because the pasuk states “keep my Shabbosim” [this inference works]. Presumably had the pasuk not stated [“keep my Shabbosim”], I would think otherwise. But why? [Kibud Av] is [only] a Mitzvas Assei and this [other Mitzvah] is both an Assei and a Lo Sa’asei? [In reality, “keep my Shabbosim”] is needed, otherwise I would have thought that [the Torah] equates Kibud Av to Kavod Hashem (for it states “Honor your parents” in Shemos and “Honor your G-d” in Mishlei). [“Keep My Shabbosim”] therefore teaches us not to listen to one’s father [when he orders you to violate any Mitzvah in the Torah, in spite of the weight of your obligation to honor him.]

Mesechet Bava Metziya, 32a

The gemara focuses on the significance of the clause “keep My Shabbosim.” Had the pasuk not contained this clause, one would think that the obligation to honor his parents outweighs his obligation to honor Hashem. But startlingly, the gemara isn’t discussing the obligation of Shmiras Shabbos altogether; rather, the gemara focuses solely on the obligation to return lost objects (also contrary to one’s father’s orders). Why then does the gemara involve itself so closely with a clause about Shmiras Shabbos. The gemara opens with a far more versatile inference, “I am Hashem, you are all obligated to honor Me,” yet it inexplicably abandons this drasha in favor of the pasuk’s former half.

Rashi takes a curious approach to his commentary on this gemara. Regarding the drasha of “I am Hashem,” Rashi elaborates, “and if your father tells you to violate Shabbos, do not listen to him,” suggesting that the Mitzvah our gemara discusses is exclusively Shmiras Shabbos. Immediately afterward, when the gemara challenges that “this Mitzvah” is both an Assei and Lo Sa’asei, Rashi identifies these two Mitzvos as “Hasheiv Tishiveim” and “Lo Suchal LiHisaleim,” suggesting that our gemara solely discusses Hashavas Aveidah. Is Rashi inconsistent?

Let’s summarize Rashi’s assessment. From the words “I am Hashem,” we infer that a parent cannot order his son to violate Shabbos. From the words, “keep My Shabbosim,” we infer that a parent cannot order his son to violate any other Mitzvah in the Torah. This itself is an outright difficulty, for if any clause in our pasuk involves the laws of Shrimas Shabbos, it is “keep My Shabbosim!”

I would like to propose a radical resolution to Rashi’s approach. The Mitzvah of Shmiras Shabbos differs from all other Mitzvos in that it directly acknowledges Hashem’s creation of and interaction with the world. Therefore, Shmiras Shabbos, more than any other mitzvah, expresses Kavod to Hashem. Therefore, if one is obligated to both “Honor [his] parents” and “Honor [his] G-d,” he will only be confronted with a dilemma when his parents order him to forgo the honor he shows G-d. In other words, if one’s father ordered him to violate Shabbos, he would not know who’s Kavod takes precedence, and therefore he would not know what to do. Our pasuk “I am Hashem,” presumably comes along to establish the hierarchy between the Kavod one expresses for his G-d and for his father. Even the father owes respect to Hashem; therefore, one’s father may not order him to violate Shabbos.

The performance of other mitzvos, however, does not express Kavod to Hashem. Presumably, one’s father could then order him to violate these mitzvos because the Torah equates Kibud Av to Kavod Shamayim. How does our pasuk contest this assumption? Had the pasuk stated “Fear your mother and father, I am Hashem,” one would have known to listen to his father’s orders so long as they did not interfere with Kavod Shamayim. In other words, even of the pasuk did not explicitly state Shmiras Shabbos, one would know to keep Shabbos in spite of his parents’ contrary orders. Why then must the pasuk explicitly state “keep My Shabbosim?” Perhaps we infer from this extraneous clause that one’s obligation to keep Shabbos in spite of his parents’ contrary wishes surpasses his need to show Kavod to Hashem. Instead, the mitzvah of Shmiras Shabbos is a mitzvah like any other mitzvah stated in the Torah, and any mitzvah written in the Torah stands in strong opposition to Mora Av.

We can now understand the gemara in Bava Metziya. Without the explicit declaration, “keep My Shabbosim,” one would never equate Shmiras Shabbos to all other Mitzvos and would assume that only Shmiras Shabbos supersedes the contrary orders of one’s parents because of the Kavod Shamayim it expresses. Once the pasuk states both “keep My Shabbosim” and “I am Hashem,” we infer that when we weigh the obligation of Shmiras Shabbos against Mora Av, we must consider more than the Kavod Shamayim involved. We must also consider its nature as a Mitzvah, in spite of one’s obligation to honor his parents. Therefore, “all other Mitzvos” too outweigh Kibud Av (for if one’s priority were the reverse, there would be no point in mentioning Shmiras Shabbos in our pasuk).

And why should these “other Mitzvos” outweigh the Mitzvah of Kibud Av? Perhaps we can infer a third fundamental precept from this opening pasuk. Perhaps when one’s father commands him to violate any Mitzvah, one can no longer consider his fulfillment of his father’s wishes to itself constitute a Mitzvah. No circumstance can transform an Aveirah into a Mitzvah. In a way, our drasha concludes that there is no conflict between Mitzvos in our pasuk. Rather, the only Mitzvah that exists is the upholding of Hashem’s Torah, to the contrary of one’s father’s orders.