Parshas Ki Sisa - a thought on the first Rashi

“And God spoke to Moshe saying: When you take the count of B’nai Yisrael to determine their numbers, each man shall give an atonement pledge for his soul to God, when you count them, and thus there will be no plague among them when you count them.”

Shemos (Exodus) 30:13

Rashi comments on these verses and explains that when counting the Jewish people, it is inappropriate to take a head count. Rather, each person gives a half-sheckel coin and the grand total is assessed to determine the number of people. He continues by stating that a head count is to be avoided because things that are counted are subject to an ‘evil eye,’ which can lead to a plague breaking out, and references the First Book of Samuel, chapter 24, where King David ordered a head count census and a plaque subsequently occurred.

Seforno elaborates on the matter, stating that in each of the instances in the Torah where God orders a census there was some major change in the Jewish people’s status – once on leaving Egypt, once after the sin of the golden calf and, in this week’s parsha, as they prepare to encounter the Mishkan (traveling sanctuary). The census has the effect of creating a reckoning of the Jewish people’s status at that stage and, as such, a close person-to-person review may reveal troubling individual shortcomings. So, instead, the Jews are counted in a manner than is less exacting and more national in scope. And by each person offering a half-sheckel, there is the added effect that the people gain merit by contributing to the sanctuary.

This trajectory of thought brings to mind the idea that we may be prone to suffer afflictions through the things we count too much. For some it may be money or other prized possessions and for others it may be their accomplishments or their network of contacts. The danger in counting these things too often or closely is that we may easily develop a warped perspective, prizing the sum for what it does for our egos and not seeing them are mere tools for doing good deeds in the world. And that warped worldview can easily cause a plague in our lives.

Parshas Tezaveh - A thought on the first Rashi

"And you will command the Children of Israel that they should take for you clear olive oil ..."
~ Exodus 27:20

Rashi points out that "clear" means "without sediment."

When I initially read this Rashi I said, in all my eloquence, "Duh."  Doesn't "clear" mean "without sediment?"
Then it occurred to me that oil can be clear with sediment settled at the bottom.

And that got me thinking - wouldn't that be good enough?

Perhaps Rashi is pointing out that the answer, in fact, is no.

It sure would have been easier, in the desert, with few tools, and little time, to simply comply with God's command by producing clear-enough oil.

But maybe, for that which matters most in life, we are asked to go the extra mile.  Even if few notice, even if it doesn't seem to be drastically different, we are taught that the difference between good and best is a degree of effort.

For whom, and for what, do we show that concern?




Guest posting by
Jeffrey L. Korbman
Campaign Director
Jewish Federation of Greater MetroWest

Parhas Terumah - A Thought on the First Rashi

"And HaShem spoke to Moshe saying. Speak to the Children of Israel and have them take for me an offering. From every man whose heart impels him to generosity shall you take my offering."
Exodus 25:1-2

"Have them take for me an offering."
Lee (for me) means: for the sake of my Name."
Rashi on Exodus 25:2

In my experience as volunteer fundraiser for a few decades, people have different motivations for giving Tzedaka. Some do it to fit in with friends or neighbors who contribute, others do it to support a cause they like, some like the honor or recognition they receive, while still others enjoy the warm fuzzy feeling of doing good. Or it could be a combination of a few of these reasons.

But how often do we give ... primarily because its a mitzvah to do so? I'd like to think this idea occupies us when we give. But I must admit that, at least for me, this thought is often not at the forefront of my mind when I write a check or proudly mail in an envelope.

Rashi's comment can prompt us to keep in mind that, above all the personal inspirations, we should be giving simply because He asked us to do so - "for the sake of my Name.'

A thought on Parshas Mishpatim

The Talmud (Tractate Shabbat 88a) offers a “derash” (exposition) from R. Eliezer:

“When the Jewish people precede Naaseh, we will do, before Nishma, we will hear (the phrase at the end of Parashas Mishpatim, being “We will do/we will hear”- Exodus 24:7) a voice from Heaven comes forth and asks: Who has revealed to my children the secret used by Angels: It is written ‘Bless Hashem Angelic beings, mighty of power, doing his word, that hear the voice of his word (Psalms 103:20); the Psalm says “do” and then “hear” “

R. Eliezer offers a great praise, that a near spontaneous outburst after revelation puts all of the Jewish people on the level of Angels and elicits a direct, additional call from the Heavens of approbation after revelation.

The Maharal (R. Judah Lowe of Prague) finds in this something positive and less positive. On one hand, this is praise that the Jews can perform the commandments at an effective and complete level, inherently, and then pursue deeper meanings and connections within them.

On the other hand, Angels represent nearly pure action: their deeds and presence leave very little room for choice. Angels perforce “do”; “Shmeiah”, hearing, beyond that is something ethereal that can’t reconcile with our mode of “hearing”. The Psalm that R. Eliezer cites can’t quite apply to humans.

When we “hear”, Shomim in Hebrew, we are operating in one of three ways: We physically hear, we come to an understanding, or we come to some level of action that translates from having heard. Our “Shomea”, hearing, represents a full cognitive gamut that represents the human disposition, our capability distinct from that of Angels.

So we can’t fully perform “Naaseh vi Nishmah”. We have choice and will, and our actions aren’t dictated; we arrive at an action after understanding and recognition. As wonderful as it is to be considered near-Angelic, we fall short of being Angels-in-action. We’re much more brooding, pondering, questioning humans, who somehow have to arrive at doing the right thing.

The Maharal and R. Kook arrive at similar answers to this question. Our world is one where some amount of information must precede a deed (one hopes…). The world of the Jewish people, who already were established as a covenantal community, are in fact Hashem’s children, and have the capability, the spark, to do the commandments. R. Kook emphasizes that the ultimate expression of the covenant is the learning that follows our action. Emphasis on “Shmeiah” hearing, or listening, as a mere preparation for an action can allow us to perform  a commandment, and then walk away. The Shmeiah that comes after the Asiah, deed, is at a higher level and informs the action just done, and others that come after it.

Does this have anything to do with “Mishpatim,” legal ordinances? Absolutely. R. Elchanan Samet notes that the Parasha details laws in a hierarchy: laws first about humankind, then sentient life, vegetation and finally, inanimate objects.  The Torah imposes this ordering, but it represents as well a challenge for us to go further. The laws in Parshas Mishpatim provide the foundation, the basics, the Naaseh; we are beckoned to go further, to learn more from these ordinances and to deepen our understanding of, commitment to, and action on behalf of the hierarchy they represent; that is our Nishmah.

Guest posting by

Justin Hornstein