The Weekly Shtikle - Tazria
Eliezer Bulka
WeeklyShtikle@weeklyshtikle.com
Shtikle Blog Weekly Roundup:
An online forum for sharing thoughts and ideas relating to the Parshas HaShavua
This week's parsha begins on the eighth day of the proceedings leading up to the final setup of the mishkan. The joy of the day is interrupted by the tragic death of Aharon's sons, Nadav and Avihu. Later on, the parsha deals with the various signs of kashrus pertaining to animals, fish and birds. This is a rather odd transition at first glance. One usually expects to find some sort of common thread between two juxtaposed passages.
The key is one word.
Following the death of Nadav and Avihu, HaShem commands Aharon that he and his sons (and all kohanim who follow) that they may not drink wine before performing the service or they will be subject to death. The reason for this, as stated in the following pesukim (10:10-11) is ulhavdil, so that they may discern between holy and mundane, tamei and tahor. And so they may teach B'nei Yisrael all the laws that HaShem spoke to them through Moshe.
At the end of the parsha, after the discussion of the laws pertaining to the animal kingdom, we are told the reasoning - or at least some driving force - behind these laws, (11:37) lehavdil, so that we may discern between the tamei and tahor, between the animal that is to be eaten and the animal that is not to be eaten. The repetition of lehavdil is the essence of the thread that runs through the parsha. First, we are taught of the great burden that the kohanim carry, the responsibility to judge between holy and mundane and between tamei and tahor. There are certainly many areas where it is only the kohanim who bear this burden. However, lest one think that this task is one reserved only for the kohanim, the Torah impresses upon us that each and every Jew carries this responsibility to a certain extent. This is an essential challenge for all Jews. The world has been created with forces of tum'ah and forces of taharah. Through this parsha we see that we have all been provided with the necessary guidelines to tackle this challenge and accurately discern between the holy and mundane, and the tamei and tahor.
In a leap year, this lesson falls in just the perfect time (although maybe just one week too late.) We just finished the joyous celebration of Purim. A superficial view of the holiday might lead one to refer to it as the "Jewish Halloween." But of course we know that it is nothing like that whatsoever and we must strive to make that distinction clear. Also, the lessons regarding responsibility with wine are also most apropos for this time. And as we leave Purim behind (while we finish off all the candy and nosh) and turn our sights to Pesach, we find another similar challenge. The Christian holiday of Easter falls out on Pesach nearly every year - not by coincidence but by design (theirs, not ours. In fact, the only time it does not fall out on Pesach would be on certain leap years when it falls out just after Purim.) Again we are given the opportunity to make a clear distinction between the devotion and dedication with which we celebrate our Holy Days and the way others celebrate their holidays.
There are certainly no shortage of interpretations out there for the exact understanding of the ad delo yada obligation on Purim. However, I would like to share yet another which R' Kulefsky, zt"l, would unabashedly repeat nearly every year in the name of the Nesivos. R' Kulefsky would often repeat certain vortlach in their applicable time over and over but would make it clear that he was well aware of the repetition but that it was nevertheless worthwhile for all who have heard it to hear it again.
As an introduction, the gemara (Pesachim 50a) states that whereas in this world, we make the berachah of hatov vehameitiv on joyous news and dayan haemes on unfortunate, saddening news, in the world to come we will only make the berachah of hatov vehameitiv. The Tzelach asks, what unfortunate saddening news will there be on which to recite hatov vehameitiv? Rather, we will look back in retrospect at the events in history we regarded as sorrowful and realize the truth purpose of each and every one and realize that it was all for the good.
In fact, even for us in this world, a certain degree of this realization can be reached. The sefer Orchos Tzaddikim (Sh'ar HaSimchah) describes the highest levels of joy, citing the gemara (Berachos 48b and others) which states that just as we recite a blessing on the good, we must recite a blessing on the bad and unfortunate. He understands that when the gemara says kesheim, just like, it means that we should recite a blessing on the bad with the same degree of joy and happiness as that which we do on the good.
In the story of Purim we read about the evil decree of Haman, a mournful moment for the people of that time. And yet, that decree was a catalyst to unprecedented levels of teshuvah and the ultimate deliverance from that imminent threat. And so, suggests Nesivos, the obligation to rejoice on Purim until one does not decipher between "cursed Haman" and "blessed Mordechai" is not to say we should lose our ability to judge and not see the difference between them. Rather, we should reach a level of joy such that, with the utmost clarity, we realize that there is no difference and that even the gravest calamities that befall us are part of a greater good.
We certainly live in turbulent times on many fronts. (Have there ever been times that weren't turbulent?) Our nation faces threats to its very existence at nearly every turn. But perhaps these dire times present an even greater opportunity to use this Purim to strive to reach the realization that everything HaShem does is for the good.
Labels: פורים