The Fifth Commandment – Man’s Compelling Interaction with G-d

 

In my last article, I mentioned that the Fifth Commandment, the Mitzvah to “honour thy father and mother” is a subject that has engaged many commentators. The core of that deliberation rests on the question as to whether that directive relates to Man’s interaction with his fellow Man or to that between Man and G-d.

I also pointed out in that article that it is the only Commandment which carries a reward, a Divine reward, “So that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your G-d gives you.”  Moreover, in D’varim (Deuteronomy) 5:15, the Divine incentive for following that commandment is expanded. Not only will one live a long life for honouring their parents, but they “will also prosper” on the land that G-d gives them. Hence, it, further, reinforces the concept that this Mitzvah is not only restricted to the realm of humans but is closely connected and anchored in our relationship with G-d, its author.

The importance of revering our parents has been stressed by numerous Jewish scholars. Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, for instance, asserts that G-d favours honouring one’s parents over exalting Him.

Both Ramba”n and Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim of Lutschitz rationalize the importance of this Commandment by asserting  that just as we are required to revere G-d, our Creator, so should we honour those who are His partners in our creation. In the words of Chaza”l, “there are three partners in the creation of Man: G-d, his father and his mother. When a Man honours his mother and father, G-d said: ‘I consider it as though I live among them and am respected by them”” (Kidushin 30:51). As Rabbi Sacks ZT”L points out, “G-d is seen in the Torah as a father, a parent, ’My first born son Yisrael’” (Shemot 4:22).

In his attempt to summarize parent - child relationship, Ramba”m suggests that our parents are in a sense our Torah. Our parents’ authority is akin to the word of G-d. They are the source of our heritage and code of conduct in the same way that the Torah is the foundation of our Divine legacy (Hilchot Mamrim).

Ramba”n, who links the Fifth Commandment to the first four ones which solely address the relationship between Man and G-d, proposes that the ways to honour our parents are “too numerous to count.” On one issue, however, scholars agree. Though children are obligated to help their parents with any chore, they should refuse to partake in any activity which offends G-d. Ramba”m adds that even when disagreeing with a parent, the child should do it in a dignified manner.

Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim of Lutschitz elaborates on this point.  In his book “Kli Yakar,” he notes that the proximity between the Fourth Commandment to “Remember the Shabbat” and the following Fifth one proves that the will of G-d precedes the directive to honour our parents. At the heart of both these commandments, though, rests the duty to honour G-d. Shabbat reminds us that G-d created the world and thus we should honour Him. Shabbat teaches us that there is one big Father in the universe and that His wish surpasses that of our small father, our physical one. These two commandments are further linked in Vayikra (Leviticus 19:3), “Each of you must respect your mother and father, and you must observe my Shabbats. I am the Lord your G-d.”

Additional support and confirmation of the unique and discernable interconnection between Man and G-d, in the Fifth commandment, is provided in this week’s Parashah, “Mishpatim.”

In it, the Torah elaborates on the forms of punishment for two forms of transgressions against one’s parents. The first is “Whoever strikes his father, or his mother shall be put to death” (Shemot 21:15). The second, “Anyone who curses their mother and father must be put to death” (Shemot 21:17). The kind of execution differs between the two, again, pointing at the interconnectedness between the Fifth Commandments and Man’s relationship with G-d.

The Gemara (Sanhedrin 66:71) asserts that death by stoning is the punishment for the first sin. In contrast, the punishment for the second one is death by strangulation (Sanhedrin 84:72). Judging by the four forms of biblical death penalties, stoning, burning, beheading and strangulation, the first is the most painful whereas the last is the least.

Ramba”n reasons that the act of cursing is more severe than that of striking in two ways. The first, it is more common thus the severe punishment is used as a deterrent to prevent it from deteriorating to a physical attack. The second, which again stresses the interrelation between the Fifth Commandment and the first four, is that cursing is not only a transgression against one’s parents but against G-d as well since, in the Torah, a curse includes the mentioning of  G-d’s name in vain which goes against the Third Commandment.

Honouring one’s parents is a practice that should go without saying.  It is a logical one, a basic moral debt which is consensual the world over. Am Yisrael, though, is the only People for whom it is a Commandment, one which is decreed by G-d!.

 

The Ten Commandments – The Divine Component in Interpersonal Ethics

 

 

                           “Can we see the trace of G-d in the face of a stranger?” -   Rabbi Jonathan Sacks

The Ten Commandments have engaged Jewish and non-Jewish scholars over the centuries. 

Many believe that they can be divided into two columns. The first five, on the right, address the Mitzvot governing the interactions between Man and G-d. The left column, many claim, addresses the interpersonal and social intercourse with our fellow Man. I doubt that anyone can disagree with that claim, except, perhaps, question the fifth Commandment, the Mitzvah of honouring our parents, which is placed in the right column and may be perceived as one relating more to human interaction rather than to Man and G-d. 

This might, indeed, be the case, unless we fail to notice that it is the only Commandment which is rewarded, “so that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your G-d gives you.” The Divine incentive for following the fifth Commandment explicitly keeps G-d in the equation of human interaction.

Chaza”l teach us, on several occasions, that though the Mitzvot, in both columns, are equally important, the last five bear significant weight with regards to conducting our daily affairs as members the human race.

In this article, I will try to show that the practice of morality between Man and his fellow Man reflects the character of G-d and serves Him no less than it serves us, humans. In other words, breaching any of the last five Commandments is not only a transgression against our fellow Man but against G-d as well.

“You shall not murder,” is the sixth Commandment, the first in the left column. This prohibition stems from the concept that Man was created in G-d’s image. This hints at the unique and high status of Man that somewhat resembles G-d.  Hence “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for G-d made man in his own image” (Bresheet 9:6). An act of murder disrupts the order of the universe. Therefore, the blood of the murdered cries out from the ground (Bresheet 4:10). It is a crime against G-d and is irremediable. The following law in Shemot 21:28 sheds light on the severity of this violation: “If a bull gores a man or woman to death, the bull is to be stones to death, and its meat must not be eaten.” Why is the bull punished? Does it have criminal responsibility? The only way to make sense of this law is through the underlying principle of the Biblical law. The animal ravaged an image of G-d. For such a heinous deed, it must pay the price. It must be stoned, and its meat prohibited for consumption. Furthermore, the Biblical view of the uniqueness and superiority of human life leads to another conclusion. The value of the life of a human being is above and beyond all values. It cannot be measured by money nor by another human’s life. Neither can it be compensated. The Torah is very clear about that: “Do not accept a ransom for the life of a murderer, who deserves to die.” (Bamidbar 35:31).

The seventh Commandment is “Lo Tin’af.” In English it translates into, “Thou shall not commit adultery.” The Hebrew root of “Na’af” means, betrayal or disloyalty. Here, is used to describe infidelity in a matrimonial relationship when one of the parties engages in an extramarital affair. Since the marriage contract is of Divine origin and Divinely sanctioned, it is clear why any violation of it will offend G-d. It is well evident in the case of Yoseph when his master’s wife asks him “to come to bed” with her. Yoseph’s response is “My master has withheld nothing from me except you because you are his wife. How then could I do such a wicked thing and sin against G-d?” (Bresheet 39:9).

As some commentators note, the term became a metaphor for Idolatry. Jewish tradition uses marriage as a metaphor to the relationship between Am Yisrael and G-d. Therefore, Am Yisrael needs to give G-d the same absolute fidelity that a wife exercises for her husband. The use of term intimating adultery to describe the worship of other gods is already made in Shemot 34:16: “and you take of their daughters for your sons, and their daughters whore after their gods and make your sons whore after their gods.”

Later, Ezekiel and Jeremiah, explicitly use the term when allegorizing Am Yisrael to a prostitute and adulteress: “How sick is your heart, declares the Lord G-d, because you did all these things, the deeds of a brazen prostitute……Adulterous wife, who receives strangers instead of her husband!” (Ezekiel 16:30-32). “For the land is full of adulterers,” (Jeremiah 23:10).

“You shall not steal,” is the eight Commandment. Everyone knows that theft in any shape of form is an immoral act.

Aside from theft in its common meaning, I wish to draw the readers’ attention to another, more serious kind of robbery, where it becomes an act against G-d. In his interpretation of the Ten Commandments, the great Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria (200 CE) perceives that it is not merely an act committed against individuals when their assets are stolen. He believes that it is also aimed at acts committed by bigger and more powerful robbers. He refers to those in power, the law givers who use their power to enrich themselves, rob whole cities without worries since, allegedly, they are above the law, while in the name of ruling and leadership commit what is, in fact, theft. That is precisely what Samuel warned Am Yisrael against in his harsh and famous sermon when they demanded to appoint a king (Shmuel 1, Chapter 1:10-18).

The ninth Commandment, likewise, states that which is, clearly, obvious, “Thou shall not bear false witness,” which is translated into the prohibition to lie. Again, as in the previous Commandments, it is not merely a transgression against our fellow Man but also against G-d. The Midrash wishes to stress the necessity to adhere to the truth, to reality. If a person testifies falsely, it means that what happened did not happen. It implies that there is no significance to existential concepts such as, honesty, truth reality and existence which are so important to Man and thus turns reality into something meaningless. If anyone can describe the world as they wish, then there is no Creator, no creation, there is nothing and everything is relative. In the words of the prophet Isiah (43:10), “’You are my witnesses,” Declares the Lord.’” Man’s vocation is to be a witness to the existence of G-d.

Finally, the tenth Commandment, warns us not covet our neighbour’s house, his wife his male or female servant, his ox, donkey or anything that belongs to them. On the surface, it seems that this Commandment strictly relates to interpersonal relations. Here, again, Jewish scholars debate its Divine rationale.

Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra (Spain 1164-1092), for instance, clams that this prohibition is not meant to protect our neighbour from the act of coveting. He, asserts, rather, that one is prohibited from coveting that which G-d forbids or refuses to give us. Man, he believes, should be content with that which G-d has bestowed upon him.

Ramba”m sees the divine prohibition in this Commandment from another angle. According to him, it serves as a safeguard from other, worse offences. Lust, he believes, leads to covet which in turn leads to theft quoting Micah 2:2 “The covet lusts after the fields and seize them.” That eventually may induce bloodshed as the example of Ahab and Navot shows.

The Ahab and Navot sorrowful matter recounted in Melachim I (Kings I) chapter 21, is indeed a typical example where coveting the property of one’s neighbour’s leads to murder. And, as was established earlier, murder is not only a crime against our fellow Man but an offence against G-d as well.

Whichever way we interpret or understand the Ten Commandments, one fact remains clear. They are meant to improve Mankind and keep the order of the universe intact. What then is a better way to achieve it than, as Rabbi Sacks, ZT”L suggests, seeking to “see the trace of G-d in the face of a stranger?”

Shavua tov, Am Yisrael and a wonderful weekend to all

"B’Shalach,” Denotation vs. Connotation

 

“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” –Mark Twain

On several occasions, I have lectured and written about the challenges that translation poses. Through translation, we are exposed not only to different languages, but also to the lifestyle, customs, and world view of those who speak those languages. Such “cultural exchanges,” through their creators prompted people like George Steiner to say: “without translation, we would live in districts that border silence.” The same tone emanates from Anthony Borgess who maintains that “Translation is not a matter of words only; it is a matter of making intelligent a whole culture.”

This brings me to this week’s Parashah, B’Shalach. It gets its name from the verse that opens it “VaYehi B’Shalach Par’o et ha’am” Shemot (Exodus) 13:17. The English translation of the verse states: “When Pharaoh let the People go…”

The Hebrew verse and its English translation, I believe, do not convey the same message. Their incongruity is an example of the difference between “denotation,” the literal definition of the word and “connotation” which is an idea or feeling that the word evokes aside from its literal definition. The translation, in my view, misses a very important aspect of the history of our Jewish culture.

The Hebrew word, “shalach,” literally means “sent.” Yes, it also means “release.” However, the translation into “let go” is, in the words of Twain, not “the right word,” it is, rather, “the almost right word.” Had the Torah wanted to tell us that Pharaoh ‘Let” the people go, it could have used a different Hebrew word such as “"תן which means precisely “let” or “allow” and which expresses the same notion as the English translation purports.

There is a reason, in my view, that the Torah uses the word “shalach”. It is a major component of the story of the Exodus and plays a big role in forming the essence of what has later become Am Yisrael. In fact, the choice of that specific word has engaged many Biblical scholars over the centuries.

Ohr HaChaim (Rabbi Moshe ben Atar 1696-1743) not only wonders about the choice of that word. He also goes one step further and poses the following question, “why did the Torah use “when Pharoah sent” rather than “when G-d took us out of Egypt?”

The root, “shalach,” is used each time Moshe turned to Pharaoh in a plea to release the people. G-d, according to Ohr Ha’Chayim, wanted to teach Pharoah a lesson. He wished to coerce Pharaoh into releasing and sending away the people against his will, if merely to avenge for the latter’s boldness and audacious statement: “who is the Lord that I should obey him and send Yisrael’ I do not know the Lord nor shall I send Yisrael” (5:2). Furthermore, G-d delivered on his promise to Moshe to not only bring Pharoah to release the people but to banish them, drive them out: “Then the Lord said to Moshe, I will bring one more plague on Pharoah and on Egypt. After that, he will send you from here and when he does, he will drive you out completely” (11:1). And that is what indeed happened. Following the plagues that G-d brought upon Egypt, Pharoah eventually caved in and, at the right moment, called Moshe and Aharon in the middle of the night, begged and urged them to hasten their departure, take the people, get out of Egypt and go worship G-d (12:31).

Ohr Ha’Chayim also notes that, according to the Mekhilta*, throughout the negotiations with Pharoah, Moshe keeps asking him to send, liberate his people, “Shalach et Ami,” which is of paramount importance. The Exodus must have Pharoah’s stamp of approval. Hence the first verse of this Parashah, “When Pharoah sent the people,” comes to tell us that the people left Egypt with permission and lawfully. In fact, all of Egypt implored them to leave: “The Egyptians urged the people to hurry and leave the country. ‘For otherwise,’ they said, ‘we will all die!’” (12:33).

The message of this Parashah is that the people did not leave clandestinely, under the cloak of darkness. They left in broad daylight along with their livestock and other possessions.  Moreover, in 14:5, the Egyptians themselves later admit that they sanctioned the Exodus which is added proof that the people did not run away or leave without prior approval. It is of prime importance to G-d that every human being recognizes that Pharoah and the Egyptians sent the people out of their free will.

Rash”i further elaborates on the choice of the word “shalach.” According to him, the use of the word suggests that Pharoah sent his officials to escort the people to ensure that they return to Egypt after three days (14:5). Rash”i claims that these officials were nothing but “איקטורין” (actors, imposters, even spies). That is what “Erev Rav,” (multitudes) mentioned in 12:38, he explains, means. They were Pharoah’s emissaries disguised as the Children of Yisrael. Their task, suggests Rash”i, was to incite, confuse and cause the latter to sin and eventually return to Egypt.

That, however, is a subject for another article, dear readers.

Shabbat Shalom Am Yisrael and fellow Jews and a wonderful weekend to all

 *A rule of scriptural exegesis in Judaism, attributed to any several authors.

 

The Gift Called Freedom

 

“The Exodus from Egypt occurs in every human being, in every era, in every year and in every day.”    –                                                 Rabbi Nachman of Breslov

 

The concept of Freedom is the central theme in this week’s Parashah, Bo. It tells us that the tenth plague was the last straw that brought about Pharoah’s change of heart and forced him to agree to free the Yisraelites and let them leave Egypt.

Lest they forget the enormity and importance of the experience of that moment in our history, G-d commands Moshe to set up a calendar based on the monthly rebirth of the moon and commemorate the event we have all come to know as Pesach (Passover), “This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you” (Shemot 12:2). Later in the Parashah, G-d commands Moshe to ensure that Pesach always occurs in the Spring, “On this day in the month of Aviv (Spring), you have been set free” (13:4).  Launching and adhering to the calendar is the first mitzvah that Am Yisrael is commanded.

The significance of that Mitzvah is twofold.

The first is related to the concept of time. Time is of essence in our lives. As anyone who has ever been enslaved or deprived of freedom would know, one of the indications of such a state is the inability to control time. The momentous component of time is embedded in this Mitzvah, which comprises of the two verses, above, in which G-d commands Moshe to set up, for Am Yisrael, not just a lunar calendar but to combine it with a solar one (Spring, like the other seasons, are determined by the sun). Since, as we all know, the lunar and solar differ in the number of days, they require synchronization. I refer the reader to an article I wrote on this subject several years ago https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/in-israel-keep-the-gregorian-calendar-but-bring-back-to-wider-use-the-hebrew-calendar-and-reinstate-some-of-our-jewish-pride/ .

The  second important aspect of this Mitzvah is the obligation to remember and remind ourselves that we were, once, slaves in Mitzrayim (Egypt). Now that we are liberated, we are required to evoke the belief that it should remain the backbone of every society. It is our duty, as members of humanity, to ensure that the celebration of Freedom remains the inherent right of every human being, all the time.

Hasidism explains that Mitzrayim (Egypt) stems from the same root as Meitzar which means “a narrow place, a place of confinement.” Yetziat Mitzrayim, the Exodus from Egypt, when Am Yisrael broke the shackles of slavery, is a colossal event (regardless of whether it is a subject of debate among scholars) in world’s history.

As testimony to the scale of that event, I direct the readers to the opening words of the Ten Commandments, which include the most universal moral code. They state:

“I am the Lord, your G-d, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.” (Shemot 20:2).

Rabbi Yehudah Halevi asked Rabbi Yehudah Ibn Ezra, “Why did G-d say, ‘I am the Lord G-d who took you out of Egypt and not I am the Lord your G-d who created the Heaven and Earth?’ which is a much more consequential act than the Exodus?” Ibn Ezra’s response, we are told, was that the virtue of Freedom from bondage is just as significant as the creation of the world, if not more.

G-d expands on the Mitzvah of commemorating the Exodus from Egypt and directs Moshe to command Am Yisrael to observe it, for seven days, each year by removing all leaven from their homes and eating Matzah.

Most importantly, Am Yisrael is charged with the duty to tell the story of their redemption, their liberation from the house of bondage to their children “And thou shalt tell thy son in that day, It is because of that which the Lord did for me when I came forth out of Egypt.” (13:8).

Chaza”l go one step further and state : “In every generation, a person is obligated to regard himself as if he personally left Egypt” (Pesachim 10:5). In line with that directive, some families, symbolically re-enact the Exodus by carrying a small bag and passing it around the table so that each participant can take part in that ritual.

I believe it was Rabbi Sacks ZT”L who best expresses how Jews and Am Yisrael staunchly conform to that Mitzvah when he says: “The Jewish festival of Freedom is the oldest continuously observed religious ritual in the world. Across the centuries, Passover has never lost its power to inspire the imagination of successive generations of Jews with its annually re-enacted drama of slavery and liberation.”

Though the Exodus from Egypt is associated with the Jewish People only, slavery, unfortunately, in different forms still plagues our world. Freedom is, on many occasions, taken for granted. When that happens, it is lost. “The battle for freedom,” tells us Rabbi Sacks, “must continue to be fought and is never finally won.”

Shabbat Shalom Am Yisrael and fellow Jews and a blessed weekend to all.

Defying the Odds

 He was born as Arkadi. He is now Arik. His twin brother was named Misha. Now he goes by the name Michael.

Arik and Michael came into the world in very unlikely circumstances. They were born in what is known, nowadays, the Ukraine, to a Jewish mother, Dr. Marina Yanovsky and an African Muslim father, Dr. Ibrahim Msengi.

Both their parents attended medical school in the former Soviet Union, during the 1980’s. As Arik likes to describe it, in his witty sense of humour, they “met for a cup of coffee and nine months later he and his twin brother came into the world.”

Well, not exactly the case, as Arik shared with me during our interview.

Marina and Ibrahim were together for five years. When Arik and Michael were one year old, Ibrahim was forced to leave the Soviet Union when he faced difficulties with the renewal of his visa. He returned to his native home in Tanzania.

Marina and their sons lost contact with him. The only shred of validation of him ever being part of their life was the retention of his last name, Msengi.

Though Arik and his brother were aware of the identity of their father, they vaguely knew anything about him. They never missed him nor felt deprived of his presence in their lives. They were showered with warmth and love by their mother, grandmother, and aunt.

Even though, prior to the fall of the iron curtain and the dismantling of the Soviet Union, ethnic and religious affiliations were under suppression, Arik and Michael were raised on a strong Jewish identity. Arik recalls how his grandmother shared with him stories about the Shoah and describes his mother as “Jewish to her core.”

In 1990, Arik, Michael, their mother, and aunt moved to Yisrael and settled in Be’er Sheva. In accordance with the family’s strong Jewish essence, they were finally free to live as Jews and fully connect to the Jewish culture. One of the manifestations of that linkage was when Arik and Michael celebrated their Bar Mitzvah at the Kotel.

Following their discharge from the IDF, Arik and Michael, like many young Yisraelis, decided to take some time off and travel the world. Africa was their first pick. Naturally, Tanzania came into mind and that choice gave birth to their resolve to visit Tanzania and try to trace the whereabouts of their biological father.

Arik Msengi

When the two embarked on that adventure, and found themselves in Dar Es Salaam, the biggest city in Tanzania, they had no clue as to where he might be. Since he was a medical doctor, the twins decided to start looking at the local hospitals and medical clinics in the hope that someone might know or has, perhaps, heard the name Dr. Ibrahim Msengi. Their efforts, so it seemed, produced no results.

However, just as they were about to give up their search, someone mentioned to them that in one of the state’s districts, there was a governor by that same name.

They followed that lead. Needless to mention the surprise that overcame Dr. Msengi when he was told that two young Yisraelis had been asking about him and claimed to be his sons. He was never aware that Marina and their children had retained their Jewish identity and emigrated to Yisrael.

When Arik and Michael arrived at his governor’s manor in the district which their Dr. Msengi controlled, they were dumbfounded. It was situated on a large estate with perfectly manicured gardens which were spotted with different animals roaming freely. Dr. Msengi and his other children, along with their extended family, were waiting for them with open arms. As the, somewhat overwhelmed, young men discovered, their father had been married to a Christian woman (who had passed away) and sired children. It turned out to be a very emotionally charged reunion, one which forged three faiths, Islam, Christianity and of course, Judaism, into one cohesive unit. 

The twins asked to call their mother in Yisrael so that she could also be part of that unexpected occasion. Marina and Ibrahim broke into a” fountain of conversation,” in Russian, their former language of communication. They finally had the opportunity to catch up after all these years.

Arik and Michael stayed at the manor for a while. Their father took them on excursions around the county and showered them with love and attention. Following their departure, they vowed to never lose contact with each other. He even visited them in Yisrael a few times and loved it.

For the last twelve years, Arik has been working as a tour guide, specializing in Africa. He learned to speak Swahili and considers Tanzania his second home. Michael moved to Tanzania, married a local woman and through a company that he set up there, represents western interests locally.

What an inspiring story of overcoming challenges, one that hails the victory of determination despite the odds, a story with a cheerful ending, the kind we all year to hear more and more.

May the coming calendar year shower us with many such accounts of reunification with happy outcomes.

Every blessing