7th & 8th Days of Pesach

Torah Gems - April 25th

This Shabbat we are fortunate to have Torah Gems from
Jennifer Rudin & Jim Morgan
Enjoy!


Jennifer Rudin:


On the 7th day of Passover, as our celebration of our exodus from mitzrayim is coming to a close, we read a portion of the Torah that is well known for its descriptive and poetic recounting of our crossing the Red Sea. Here we read the song of Moses and the song of Miriam, both inspired by the miraculous splitting of the sea. As the Egyptians drown in the water, the Israelite people, overwhelmed with emotions of fear, faith, and gratitude, release themselves to the power of song.

So Moses and the Israelites sang this song to the Lord. They said: I will sing to the Lord for He has triumphed gloriously; Horse and driver He has hurled into the sea... The Lord, the Warrior - Lord is His name! Pharaoh's chariots and his army He has cast into the sea; and the pick of his officers are drowned in the Sea of Reeds...You made Your wind blow, the sea covered them. They sank like lead in the majestic waters... Exodus 15:1-19

Then Miriam the prophetess, Aaron's sister took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women went out after her in dance with timbrels. And Miriam chanted for them: Sing to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously Horse and Driver He has hurled into the sea. Exodus 15:20-21

Although both songs use vivid imagry and serve as testimony to God's might, Miriam's song starts out confidently and assertively with "Shiru l'adonai, Sing to God!" whereas her brother's begins with a slight hesitation, "Az Yashir ... l'adonai- So, they sang to God." This grammatical variation sheds light on the difference between the way the men and women related to the miracles of the Divine. One explanation, "When the Israelite women came to give birth (in Egypt), they did so in the fields, and God sent one from the highest heavens to clean and tend to them, like a midwife. So when God appeared to them at the Sea, they recognized Him first, as it is said, 'This is my God..." Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Sotah 11b

It is in this parasha that Miriam is referred to by name for the first time in the Torah as she leads the women in song. Here the Torah refers to Miriam as "Aaron's sister." She is a woman confident to lead her people in song, Miriam's uniqueness, not only from her brother Moses, but from the entire people of Israel, makes her a role model and leader among the Jewish people. The Torah refers to Miriam as a "n'viyah," prophetess. An important qualification of a Jewish prophet is the ability to foreshadow the attitudes, problems, and predicaments that will face the Jewish people in the future. Miriam's recognition as "n'viyah" is a result of two actions. First, she separates herself from the masses in the act of taking the timbrel and leading the women in song. Second, her foresight of bringing drums to the Red Sea posits a special relationship that she has with the God. Rashi points out, "'With drums and dancing': the righteous women of that generation were confident that God would do miracles for them; so they brought drums with them from Egypt."

Unlike Miriam who packed timbrels for the journey out of Mitzrayim with an eye towards the future, Moses carried Joseph's bones, fulfilling a past promise. According to the midrash, the Israelites couldn't leave Egypt without taking the bones of Joseph with them, so the Egyptians hid the coffin in the Nile. Only Serach bat Asher, a niece of Joseph, and a survivor from that generation knew where the coffin was. The bones of Joseph were so important, that they were carried in an 'aron' the same word used for the ark for Ten Commandments. The Rabbis connect the two and say that two 'arks' journeyed with the Israelites in the wilderness: one with Joseph's bones and with the Tablets.

Beyond the bones and the timbrels, one might wonder how the words of the song evolved. Rabbi Akiva says: Moses said, "I will sing to God," and they responded, "I will sing to God"; Moses said, "For He has triumphed gloriously" and they responded, "I will sing to God" (and so on with each verse -- Moses would sing the verse, and they would respond with the refrain, "I will sing to God").
Rabbi Eliezer says: Moses said, "I will sing to God," and they responded, "I will sing to God"; Moses said, "For He has triumphed gloriously," and they responded, "For He has triumphed gloriously" (and so on -- they repeated each verse after Moses).
Rabbi Nechemiah says: Moses sang the opening words of the song, after which they each sang it on their own. (Talmud and Rashi, Sotah 30b)
These three opinions represent three levels of leadership. Rabbi Akiva describes an ideal in which a people completely abandon their individuality to the collective identity embodied by the leader. Moses alone sang the nation's gratitude to God, their experience of redemption, and their vision of their future as God's people. The people had nothing further to say as individuals, other than to affirm their unanimous assent to what Moses was expressing.
At first glance, this seems the ultimate in unity: hundreds of thousands of hearts and minds yielding to a single program and vision. Rabbi Eliezer, however, argues that this is but a superficial unity -- an externally imposed unity of the moment, rather than an inner, enduring unity. When people set aside their own thoughts and feelings to accept what is dictated to them by a higher authority, they are united only in word and deed; their inner selves remain different and distinct. Such a unity is inevitably short-lived: sooner or later their intrinsic differences and counter-aims will assert themselves, and fissures will begin to appear also in their unanimous exterior. So Rabbi Eliezer interprets the Torah's description of Israel's song to say that they did not merely affirm Moses' song with a refrain, but repeated his words themselves. Each individual Jew internalized Moses' words, so that they became the expression of his own understanding and feelings. The very same words assumed hundreds of thousands of nuances of meaning, as they were absorbed by each of the minds, and articulated by each of the mouths, of the people of Israel.
Rabbi Nechemiah, however, is still not satisfied. If Israel repeated these verses after Moses, this would imply that their song did not stem from the very deepest part of themselves. For if the people were truly one with Moses and his articulation of the quintessence of Israel, why would they need to hear their song from his lips before they could sing it themselves? It was enough, says Rabbi Nechemiah, that Moses started them off with the first words of the song, so as to stimulate their deepest experience of the miracle, with the result that each of them sang the entire song on their own. (The Lubavitcher Rebbe)



Jim Morgan:

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach: I hope you are in the midst of a meaningful and wonder-filled Passover. This week, I have compiled the voices of two rabbis who teach us about Serach Bat Asher, the legendary wise woman. Serach plays important roles in midrashim about our Torah reading for the seventh day of Passover. This portion, Exodus 13:17-15:26, comprises the first four aliyot of Parashat Beshallach, from Pharaoh's final decision to release the Israelites through the Song at the Sea. Serach does not appear in the Torah text here. Rather, her name is mentioned in two lists, generations apart: the genealogy of Jacob in Genesis 46:17 and the census in Numbers 26:46. This coincidence of names led our rabbis to proclaim that this was the same person, granted an extra-long life or even immortality for her gifts of memory and gentleness. Enjoy these excerpts.


"And Moses took with him the bones of Joseph, who had exacted an oath from the children of Israel, saying, 'God will be sure to take notice of you: then you shall carry up my bones from here with you'" (Exodus 13:19). This is the second of three times that Joseph's bones are mentioned in the Torah. In Genesis 50:25, on his deathbed, Joseph speaks to his brothers: "God will surely take care of you; bring my bones up from this place!" The same verb, the Hebrew root pei-kuf-dalet, is used in both instances, translated as "take care" (Genesis 50:25) and "take notice" (Exodus 13:19). [In the Eitz Chaim chumash, both instances are translated as "take notice."] Adele Berlin points out that the same verb is translated as "remembered" when "God fulfilled a promise to Sarah [and] she became pregnant with Issac" in Genesis 21:1 (in The Torah: A Women's Commentary, ed. Tamara Cohn Eskenazi [New York: URJ Press, 2008], p. 296). The theme of memory is woven throughout the Joseph saga. His own story is one of being forgotten and being remembered. Once he dies, he is forgotten by those who most directly benefited from his management skills: "A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph" (Exodus 1:8). The Egyptians forget, but the Israelites are charged to remember. Joseph had told his brothers: God will remember the Israelite people, the descendants of Jacob, if they, if you, remember me.

Moses remembered. But how did Moses come upon Joseph's bones? The Talmud teaches that after the Exodus, there was a single survivor of Joseph's generation: Serah bat Asher. Moses sought her out, and her direction and good counsel enabled him to find Joseph's remains and thus fulfill his ancestor's last words (see Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 13a and M'chilta, B'shalach). Who was this remarkable woman? The Rabbis interpreted her "remarkable longevity to ... a powerful blessing ... that her grandfather Jacob bestowed on her when she informed him in song that Joseph was still alive" (Midrash HaGadol and Sefer HaYashar on 48:8, cited by Judith Baskin, in The Torah: A Women's Commentary, p. 276).

from Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell, "Observing and Remembering: Joseph's Bones and Ours," April 21, 2008 (http://urj.org/torah/, accessed April 24, 2008)

It was Serah who told Moses where Joseph's coffin was buried. On Joseph's deathbed, he made his family promise that when they eventually left Egypt they would carry his bones with them. The Midrash notes that so many years had passed since Joseph's death that no one remembered where he was buried. On the day before the Israelites were to leave Egypt, Moses was brokenhearted when he was unable to locate Joseph's coffin.

"Why are you so gloomy?" an old woman asked.

Moses explained his desire to fulfill the ancient promise. "I can lead you to his burial place," she responded.

"But how do you know?" Moses demanded.

"Because I am Serah bat Asher. I was present at Joseph's funeral; his coffin was sunk into the Nile."

Serah led Moses to the very spot in the Nile, and Moses cried out: "Joseph, Joseph, we are leaving now." Suddenly, Joseph's coffin floated to the surface and Moses took it with them as they left.

The legendary story of Serah bat Asher doesn't end there. The Midrash identifies her as the one Israelite who saw the angels gather to watch the children of Israel cross the Sea of Reeds. She saw God commanding the waters to part. She saw the divine presence among the Israelites when Miriam played the tambourine. Other than Moses, Serah bat Asher was the only one of her generation who could look upon God and live.

Serah bat Asher also turns up in the first century beit midrash of Yochanan ben Zakkai. He was describing to his students that when the waters of the Sea of Reeds parted, the walls of water looked like a wall of sprouting bushes. Suddenly, a voice came through an open window in the back of the beit midrash: "No. That's not right." All the students turned around and saw an old lady peering through the window. "I am Serah bat Asher. I know what the walls looked like because I was there! They looked like mirrors, mirrors in which every man, woman and child was reflected so it seemed as though even more people crossed there, not only those who were present, but their descendants and the descendants of their descendants!"

How did Serah bat Asher eventually die? One legend reports that she died in a fire in a synagogue in Persia in the ninth century. Another legend is that she never actually died. Instead, she is like Elijah, wandering around the world, setting the record straight. A third legend is that a fiery chariot took her to heaven where she presides over a palace in which thousands of women who tended the old and sick in their lifetimes, as she cared for her grandfather Jacob, are privileged to study Torah with her as their teacher.

from Rabbi Laura Geller, "Serah's Legend," December 13, 2002 (http://www.jewishjournal.com/home/preview.php?id=9792, accessed April 24, 2008)




Shabbat Shalom

Chag Kasher v'Sameach

SEDER INSIGHTS

Torah Gems - April 18th


Compiled by Rabbi William Hamilton


SEDER INSIGHTS

Dayeinu is, on the surface, a simple song. It is a recitation of events of God's kindness over the course of Jewish history from the Egyptian exodus until the arrival in Israel, with the refrain Dayeinu - "It would have been enough for us."

Would it really have "been enough for us" had God not, for instance, split the Red Sea, trapping our ancestors between the water and the Egyptian army? "Had God not sustained us in the desert" - would that really have been enough for us? "Had God not given us the Torah." What are we saying when we say "it would have been enough?

I like to imagine that Dayeinu is 'an exercise in radical appreciation.' So often we see as given, that which is really a gift.

Yet another way of understanding Dayeinu, might touch on a pedagogic technique of hiding a message, leaving hints for its discovery. Could Dayeinu be hiding something significant in plain sight?

Dayeinu may be precisely such a puzzle. And its solution might lie in the realization that one of the song's lines is, in fact, not followed by the refrain at all. Few people can immediately locate it, but one of the events listed is pointedly not followed by the word dayeinu.

Take a look. Can you find the only phrase on the page that is not following by dayeinu? You found it, of course: the very first phrase in the poem. Dayeinu begins: "Had He taken us out of Egypt..." That phrase - and it alone - is never qualified with a dayeinu.

The subtle message of Dayeinu may be just that, the sheer indispensability of the Exodus - its contrast with the rest of Jewish history, its importance beyond even the magnitude of all the miracles that came to follow.


Chad gadya "One little kid, that father bought for two zuzim."

"And then came the cat and ate the kid, that father had bought for two zuzim. And then came the dog and bit the cat that had eaten the kid that father had bought for two zuzim....

"And then came the Holy One, blessed be He, and slaughtered the Angel of Death, who had slaughtered the slaughterer who had slaughtered the ox that had drunk the water that had quenched the fire that had burned the stick that had beaten the dog that had bit the cat that had eaten the kid that father had bought for two zuzim - one little kid, one little kid."

This is a fun song with which to part from our friends and family at the Seder. Though it does not appear to originate in Ashkenazi communities until fairly recently (mid- to late 16th century), Chad Gadya is more than a lively children's song, an amusing musical game to keep the children awake.

Indeed, the CHIDA (Rabbi Chayim Yosef David Azulai of Jerusalem, Hevron and Italy, 1724-1806) records in his book of Halakhic responsa the following question: "Somebody made fun of Chad Gadya... and thereby befouled his mouth. One of the company thereupon arose and excommunicated him. Is this excommunication valid?" The CHIDA's answer is unequivocal: "Making fun like this is a very severe act and the excommunication is indeed valid." Clearly, Chad Gadya is far more than a simple children's nursery rhyme.

We are so familiar with the words that most of us probably never even notice that Chad Gadya is Aramaic, not Hebrew (chad gadya, rather than g'di echad; ve-ata shunra, rather than u-va he-chatul, and so on). So, the first question is: Why was this song composed in Aramaic? After all, almost the entire Haggadah is in Hebrew.

Yet towards the end, Chad Gadya suddenly reverts to Hebrew: the slaughterer is ha-shochet in Hebrew, rather than necheisa in Aramaic; the Angel of Death is Malach ha-Mavet in Hebrew, not Malach Mota in Aramaic; and the Holy One, blessed be He is ha-Kadosh baruch Hu in Hebrew, not Kud'sha brich Hu in Aramaic. So, the next question is: Why the reversion to Hebrew?

And finally, what is the significance of father buying this kid for two zuzim?

Indeed, almost the entire Haggadah is in Hebrew. But there is another Aramaic section near the beginning: Ha lachma anya di achalu avhatana be-ar'a de-Mitzrayyim.... "This is the bread of affliction which our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. All who are hungry - come and eat; all who need - let them come and join in the Pesach. This year here; next year in the Land of Israel. This year slaves; next year, free people."

This section is also predominantly Aramaic, with a few well-selected words in Hebrew. And this deceptively simple paragraph has some important lessons.

The Ha lachma section had to have been written in a context when the Pesach sacrifice was not offered (either after the destruction of the Holy Temple when the Temple Mount was under foreign occupation, or in exile) as the invitation makes clear: Kol ditzrich yeitei ve-yifsach, "all who need, let them come and join in the Pesach." This invitation has to date from after the Pesach sacrifice had ceased, so that it refers to the Seder ceremony, not to the Paschal lamb itself. And so, since it applies to a time of galut (exile), it is written in Aramaic - the language of exile. But the corollary is that when looking forward to the time of redemption, back in our Land as free people, the phrase is le-shana ha-ba'ah ("next year") in Hebrew, the language of redemption, of the Land of Israel.

Now we begin to see the parallel with Chad Gadya: the kid represents Israel, the nation that was "eaten" by the cat, devoured, defeated, conquered, dragged away into exile. It is appropriate that this parable be related in Aramaic, the language of exile. Then the dog bit the cat, the stick beat the dog, the fire burnt the stick, the water quenched the fire, the ox drank the water. One by one, every nation that ever dared raise a hand against us was defeated: Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Greece, Rome, mediaeval Spain, the Turkish Empire, Germany, the British Empire, the Soviet Union - every one of them, when they turned against us, collapsed.

"And then came the slaughterer and slaughtered the ox." The ox symbolizes Rome - the exile that is currently drawing to its painful end, and will begin to lead us out of exile and back to independence in our Land. So, ha-shochet - "the slaughterer" in Hebrew, not Aramaic - represents the beginning of the redemption from exile. The Angel of Death might (not definitely) take the slaughterer; and then, the final stage of redemption will be the Revival of the Dead, when God Himself will "slaughter the Angel of Death," because death itself will be cancelled.

Finally, what is the significance of father buying this kid for two zuzim? Having established that the kid represents Israel, it follows that abba here refers to God (our Father in Heaven). How, then, did He acquire us "for two zuzim"?

Although g'di can be a generic term for the young of any kosher animal (see the Talmud, Chullin 113 a-b), it usually refers specifically to a kid (a goat up to the age of one year) or a lamb (a sheep up the age of one year). And these are precisely the animals which are sacrificed for the Tamid (daily) offerings and the Mussaf (Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh, and Festival additional) offerings.

A month and a half ago, we began the countdown to Pesach with the first of the special Shabbatot - Shabbat Shekalim (Exodus 30:11-16). Then, we read how every Jew was obligated to pay the half-shekel due, the annual tax that was used for purchasing the goats and lambs for the Tamid offerings. The shekel (equivalent to the Talmudic sela) was a unit of currency equal to four zuzim (equivalent to silver dinars in the Talmud). Thus, the two zuzim, with which father bought the g'di and with which we conclude the Seder service, are worth half a shekel.


The mitzvah of eating matzah (plural: matzot) on the night of the fifteenth of the month of Nissan is stated explicitly in the Torah: "In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month, in the evening, you shall eat matzot." (Exodus 12, 18) The Torah also says "You shall eat matzot for seven days." (Exodus 12, 15)

Yet the rabbis used the Torah's exegetic principles to show that this verse does not mean to command us to eat matzot all seven days, but rather that matzah is the principal food one is to eat during Pesach instead of bread. A person who does not want to eat matzot is not duty-bound to do so, but is allowed to eat just fruits and vegetables, and meat and dairy products, as he wishes.

The simple meaning of this would seem to be that one who eats matzot all seven days of Pesach does not thereby fulfill a mitzvah, and that this is what the rabbis meant when they said that eating matzah during the seven days is "voluntary" (Pesachim 120a) - that is, not obligatory. Nevertheless, many major halachic authorities have written that, while it is true that eating matzah is obligatory only on the night of the Seder, and that is why our sages instituted recital of the special blessing "al achilat matzah" only for the eating of matzah on Seder night. Yet one who eats matzah on the other days of Pesach is still fulfilling a mitzvah, even if it is not obligatory.

Accordingly, what our sages meant when they said that eating matzah on the seven days of Pesach is "voluntary" is that, by way of contrast with the obligation to eat matzah on the night of the fifteenth, on the rest of Pesach a person is free to decide whether or not he wants to fulfill an additional mitzvah by eating matzah.

May matzah consumption throughout the Festival this year, remind you of the dignity of voluntary commitment. May the dayeinu you sing, remind you of the one verse we don't sing and the centrality of our People's founding story (the Exodus). And may your Aramaic recitations blend neatly into their portions that hint of Hebrew, so that full redemption will seem a bit closer in the year to come. A sweet Pesah and Shabbat to you all.




Shabbat Shalom

Chag Kasher v'Sameach

Parashat Metzora 5768/2008

Torah Gems - April 11th

Prepared by Jennifer Rudin

Parshat Metzora, is about the purification process of the metzora, the individual who developed a form of leprosy not for physical reasons but for spiritual reasons.

In the beginning of Parashat Metzora the priest who assists in the purification of the leper is commanded to take two birds (Lev. 14:4). Why birds? Rashi explains: "Since the afflictions (associated with leprosy) come because of gossip, which is idle chatter; hence, in its purification one uses birds that also prattle in a chirping voice." In addition to birds, the priest must take "cedar wood." This, too, Rashi finds to be symbolic: "Since the afflictions come because of being unrefined." The cedar is a tall tree, and loftiness is well-known as a symbol of arrogance. In addition the priest must take "crimson stuff, and hyssop"; these Rashi sees as a fitting remedy for the sin of arrogance; "What can make amends (for the leper) so that he be healed? If he humbles himself like a worm [from which crimson dye is derived] and like hyssop [a lowly plant, in contrast to the cedar]."

Others comment similarly explaining that metzorah was a punishment for the transgression of speaking lashon hora. Lashon Hora, which translated literally means 'the evil tongue' or 'evil speech', includes slander, gossip, and rumors, amongst other things. The Talmud relates in the name of Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani "Why is the evil tongue called a thrice-slaying tongue? Because it kills three people: the person speaking, the person spoken to, and the person being spoken about." The Rambam, Maimonides, adds a further dimension - sometimes a person may say something that is not quite lashon hara. Yet, as his statement passes from person to person, it eventually does cause harm or trouble, fright or hurt to the other party being spoken about. The Orchos Tzadikim (Ways of the Righteous) comments that "Before you speak, you are the master of your words. After you speak, your words master you." The Midrash Rabba relates that Rabbi Shimon son of Gamliel asked his servant, Tevi, to buy him something tasty from the market. The servant returned with some tongue. Rabbi Shimon then asked his servant to buy something bad from the market. The servant returned with more tongue. "How can this be? I asked you to buy something good, you bought tongue, I asked you to buy something bad, you also bought tongue?!?" "It has good and bad - when it is good, it has a lot of goodness. When it is bad, it is very bad."

In Lev. 14 6-7 we read, "[As for] the living bird, he (the Kohein) shall take it; and the cedar wood, the crimson thread and the hyssop and immerse them and the live bird in the blood of the slaughtered bird, over the running water. He shall sprinkle on the person undergoing purification from the tzora'as, seven times and make him pure; and send the live bird into the open field." How does blood, a substance associated with impurity in last week's parasha, now become associated with purification? In "Tumah and Taharah: Ends and Beginnings" Rachel Adler addresses this question. She writes,"What characterizes the pure as opposed to the impure? This can be deduced from the characteristics of the impure. Impurity stems, firstly, from contact with a corpse. Likewise, it stems, secondly, from a leper, a live person who has lost some of his flesh and who appears to be at death's door. Impurity also stems, thirdly, from any discharge of liquids that represent life -- semen and menstrual blood -- which are the source of life. In other words, when a liquid of life is lost from a living organ -- a sort of partial death -- this leads to impurity.[8] Thus impurity is associated with death, while purity is associated with life. Therefore, the most potent substance needed for purification is blood, and next after that, flowing water, known as "living water." This is water that is closest to its condition at the time of Creation. Embodied in the notions of pure and impure are qualities characteristic of G-d: life and creation. That which promotes creation and life is associated with purification, and that which is detrimental to creation and life is associated with impurity. In other words, life and creation represent the will of G-d, whereas death and degeneration are contrary to His will."

Parashat Tazria/Shabbat HaChodesh 5768/2008

Torah Gems - April 4th

A THE SAGES ORDAINED THAT ON THE shabbos that precedes Rosh Chodesh Nisan - or on Rosh Chodesh itself, if it falls on Shabbos - the Torah portion that begins with the words: This month shall be the first of months for you (Shemos 112:2) should be read. This portion is read in addition to the regular weekly sidrah.

Our Sages ordained that this additional parashah be read on this Shabbos because of the importance of the month of Nisan, which is referred to as the head-or king-of all the months. [This is alluded to in the verse: This month shall be the first of months for you, for the Hebrew word lachem -"for you" contains the same letters as melech-"king."] Because of the month's significance, our obligation to sanctify it [i.e., establish it] is greater than it is for other months. Hence, we announce its commencement through special readings from the Torah and haftarah in the synagogue on Shabbos when people are gathered there.

THE FIRST OF MONTHS - WHOEVER COUNTS months for that time, shall count them beginning from Nisan. Why is this so? Because the day of redemption is greater than the day of birth, and the redemption itself is greater than any other incident or event. Before Israel came out of Egypt, they calculated the months starting from Creation, or from the time the world was renewed after the deluge, as the verse (Bereshis 15:13), to which the verse (Shemos 12:41) alludes: And it was when four hundred and thirty years had passed. However, as soon as the redeemed nation came out of Egypt, they abandoned all these reckonings and counted only from redemption - the first months for you.

The Torah refers to Nisan as the first month [since the redemption from Egypt it is always counted that way.] It is also referred to as the month of spring, for it is then that new life and vegetation flourish and are renewed,. It is in this month that life and bounty are given to the world.

The name Nisan is of Babylonian origin, and it came into use after the Babylonian exile. The word Nisan also connotes spring, for it is similar to the Hebrew word nitzan - bud - as in the verse (Shir ha-Shirim 2:12): The buds have appeared in the land. The later Sages interpreted the word avis as an acronym: aviv can be separated into av, meaning father or head, and the letters yud and beis have a numerical value of twelve, corresponding to the twelve months, that is to say, the head of all the months of the year.

THE RAMBAN WRITES: IF ONE GOES out into the fields or gardens during the month of Nisan and sees fruit trees in blossom and buds appearing, he should recite the following blessing: Blessed are You, God our Lord, King of the universe, in Whose world nothing is lacking, and Who has created in it good creations, and good and beautiful trees for man to benefit therefrom (Rambam, Hilchos Berachos 10:13). The text recited today differs very slightly from the Rambam's wording and there are also small variations between the Sephardic and the Ashkenazic texts.

Our Sages said: The first of Nisan was crowned with ten crowns. It was the first day of Creation. It was the day when the first of the princes of the tribes - Nachshon ben Aminadav - offered his sacrifice. It was the day when Aharon began his duties as a kohen, for until then the Divine service had been the task of the firstborn. It was the first day of the communal Divine service. It was the first day that Divine fire descended from Heaven. It was the first day that the sanctified portions of the sacrifices were eaten only within certain sanctified limits, for when sacrifices could be offered on private alters, the sanctified portions of the offerings could be eaten anywhere. It was the first day on which God's presence dwelt among the people - as the verse says: I will dwell in your midst (Shemos 25:8). It was the first day on which the Kohanim blessed the people with the special priestly blessing, as it says: And Aharon lifted up his hands and blessed them (Vayikra 9:22). It was the first day on which the use of private altars became prohibited, and finally it was the first day of the beginning of the months (Shabbos 87b).

Just as the tribes of God can be compared to the months of the year, so too can the first twelve days of Nisan be compared to the coming twelve months. The princes of each tribe brought their sacrifices on successive days, and by so doing, each prince opened the Heavenly gates of purity and bounty for one month. Thus, by reading of their offering from a Torah scroll we recall that original blessing and we cause abudnace and goodness to be brought to the world for all the following months.

IT IS A WIDESPEARD TRADITION AMONG JEWISH communities that during the first few days of Nisan, kimcha d'Pischa [ Aramaic for "flour for Presach"] funds are solicited from every member of the community - each person giving according to his ability. This month is used to purchase matzos, which are distributed to the poor according to their needs for Pesach. It is also customary to supply the poor with other provisions-wine, meat, and fish-or with funds so that they will be able to purchase these things on their own.

[The Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying: If a person has

in the flesh of his skin a sore ... " (Lev-13:1-2)].

... The verse makes these afflictions depend upon the skin

('or). This is based on the verse that says: "... the Lord God

fashioned garments of skin for the man and his wife and He

dressed them" (Gen. 3:21). The Midrash refers to a distinction

between these "garments of skin" and "garments of light"

('or). It was because of sin that they came to be garbed in this

coarse clothing, the skin of the snake. All of corporeality de-

rives from there. Previously, they were in a spiritual state, as is

said of the future. At the giving of the Torah, too, Israel were

ready for this state. That is why it says of Moses that the skin

of his face shone. He so redeemed "skin" that he was lit up

through the shining speculum.

But we did not remain at that rung. Therefore, the afflic-

tions reappeared; the Midrash teaches that it was sin that

made us again impaired.

It is also known, however, that the skin is porous, contain-

ing many tiny holes. These allow the light to shine through

its "shells." Only sin clogs up those pores, so that "darkness

covers the earth" (Is. 60:2). That is why "the leprous afflic-

tion" is translated [into Aramaic) as segiru or "closing."

Now we also understand why the purification rites are as-

signed to Aaron and his sons the priests: it was they who set

right the sin of the Golden Calf.

3:130

From The Language of Truth

Translated and Interpreted by Arthur Green

SHABBAT SHALOM