Holy Garments

1. Garments as the "Character Traits" of the Soul

Just as physical clothes cover and express the body, a person's character traits (Middot) are the "garments" of their soul. A person can have a holy soul, but if their "garments" (their patience, emotional reactions, etc.) are flawed, their inner light is distorted. Therefore, spiritual growth requires changing one's spiritual clothes.

"מוכרחים לפעמים להסיר ממנו לגמרי את ההרגשות הנמוכות אף על פי שהן משמשות בקדושה לאחרים."

"One is sometimes forced to completely remove from himself the lower feelings [garments], even though they may serve a holy purpose for others."

2. The Danger of "Lowly Garments" for Great People

Why must the High Priest (and Mordechai in Megillat Esther) must wear garments of "Honor and Glory" (Kavod and Tiferet)? Sometimes, truly great people fail because they dress their souls in inappropriate "garments" of extreme, misplaced humility or smallness. A great soul must wear majestic spiritual garments, not lowly ones.

Quote:

"בקטנות אמונה בעצמם הבאה מתוך שפלות קיצונית שהיא חוץ מאורח אמת של אור תורה דלעילא."

"[They fall due to] a smallness of faith in themselves, coming from an extreme lowliness [false humility] which is outside the true path of the higher light of Torah."

3. Human Ideologies vs. Divine Truth (Muddy Water vs. Pure Water)

There is a sharp distinction between the "garments" (ideologies, laws, and moral systems) invented by human beings, and those derived from the Divine. Human morality is inherently tainted by human flaws, whereas Divine morality is pure.

"כהבדל שבין מים עכורים ודלוחים שאינם ראויים רק לשתיית בהמה... לבין אותו העידון של אוויר זך וצח מים קרים נוזלים צלולים מתוקים מצינור מים חיים... כן הוא ההבדל שבין ההשפעה הנפשית ההולכת מכל אשר יהגה לב האדם... ואשר מוכרח הוא בטומאת הבשר להטמא... לעומת ההשפעה הבאה מן הרוח האלהי העליון."

"Like the difference between murky, muddy water fit only for an animal to drink... and the refinement of pure, clear air and sweet, clear, flowing cold water from a living spring... So is the difference between the psychological influence that comes from whatever the human heart invents... which is inevitably tainted by the impurity of the flesh... as opposed to the influence that comes from the Supreme Divine Spirit."

4. The National Garments of the State of Israel

When a nation creates laws and societal norms based purely on human intellect ("what they invent from their own hearts"), it is a form of idolatry (Avodat Elilim), because man is essentially worshipping his own mind. Israel's national "garments" (its statehood, laws, and culture) must be Bigdei Kehuna—garments drawn from the pure, Divine source.

However, Chazal offer a profound defense of the secular or rebellious elements of the Jewish nation. Playing on the Hebrew words for garments (Begadim / בגדים) and traitors/rebels (Bogdim / בוגדים), Chazal note even those who rebel against the Torah in Israel are still fundamentally different from the nations of the world, because their root is holy.

"אשר גם ריח בגדיו, אשר גם ריח בוגדיו הוא כריח שדה אשר ברכו ה'."

"That even the smell of his garments [begadav]—which can be read as the smell of his traitors/rebels [bogdav]—is like the smell of a field that the Lord has blessed."

Even the rebellious 'traitors' of Israel emit a holy scent, because beneath their secular 'garments' lies an inner drive to build the nation, which stems from a holy, Divine source, unlike the self-serving humanism of other nations.

Conclusion

The commandment to make "Garments of Holiness" (Bigdei Kodesh) is not just an ancient ritual instruction for the Priests. It is a modern, national directive for the Jewish people. The State of Israel must strive to clothe its national life, laws, and society not in the "muddy waters" of human-invented morality, but in the "royal, priestly garments" of Divine light and truth.

Does A Kohen Gadol Who Was Mekadesh Bi-Biah Have to Divorce Her?

Introduction: The Timing of Betrothal via Biah

The lecture begins with a discussion from Maseches Kiddushin regarding the mechanics of betrothing a woman through sexual intercourse (biah). The central question is exactly when the legal acquisition (kiddushin) takes effect:

Tchilas Biah Koneh: Does the betrothal take effect at the very beginning of the act (initial penetration/ ha'ara'ah)?

Sof Biah Koneh: Or does it only take effect at the end of the completed act (gemar biah)?

Practical Differences (Nafka Minah)

The Talmud outlines two practical scenarios where this distinction matters:

Intervention by Another Man: If a man begins the act of biah for the sake of betrothal, but before the act is finished, the woman accepts kiddushin (such as money) from a different man. Who is she married to? It depends entirely on whether the first man's betrothal took effect at the beginning of the act or only at the end.

The Case of the Kohen Gadol (High Priest): This is the primary focus of the lecture. According to Jewish law, a Kohen Gadol is forbidden from marrying a non-virgin (be'ulah). If he attempts to betroth a virgin through biah, the timing is critical:

If tchilas biah koneh (it takes effect at the beginning), the marriage is valid because she is still a virgin at the exact moment the betrothal occurs.

If sof biah koneh (it takes effect at the end), by the time the betrothal legally finalizes, the physical act has already rendered her a be'ulah. Therefore, he is effectively trying to marry a non-virgin, which is forbidden. Says the Mishnah La-melech - If he married her with biah, he is compelled to divorce her (yotzi b'get).

In Yevamos, the law states that if a Kohen Gadol rapes (ones) or seduces (mefateh) a virgin, he is forbidden to marry her and if he does then he must give her a get. 

Znus (Promiscuity) vs. Ishus (Marriage)

However, there is a deep conceptual distinction between these two cases based on the Yerushalmi (Jerusalem Talmud) and the commentary of the Zecher Yitzchak (Rabbi Yitzchak Isaac Rabinowitz):

You cannot compare the physical act of rape/seduction to an act intended for marriage.

Biah of Znus: Rape or seduction is an act of promiscuity (znus). When this happens, the woman definitively becomes a be'ulah in a context entirely devoid of marriage. If the Kohen Gadol later tries to marry her, he is attempting to marry an established be'ulah.

Biah of Ishus: When a Kohen Gadol betroths a virgin via biah, the entire intent of the act from the very first second is for the sake of marriage (ishus).

The Yerushalmi states that if an unmarried man sleeps with an unmarried woman just for fun, he renders her a Zonah (a degraded status). From here the Yerushalmi derives that if a Kohen Gadol betroths a woman through biah, he is not marrying a beulah.

What does this mean?

In the case of betrothing a woman through biah, even if the legal finality of the marriage doesn't occur until the end of the act (sof biah koneh), the intent for marriage was present from the beginning. Because the entire action is draped in the context of ishus (marriage), it is protected from being classified as a be'ilah of znus. He may then retain her as his wife just as he may retain a Bogeres [semi beulah according to the Gemara. The Gemara explains that this is because eventually she was going to be a beulah in any case]. Therefore, the act of kiddushin does not violate the prohibition of a Kohen Gadol marrying a woman who has been degraded by a prior act of promiscuity.

This would cast shadows of doubt on the assertion of the Mishna La-melech that if he was mekadesh with biah that he must divorce her. Since the whole act was done for Kiddushin, he may keep her. Only when she became a beulah through an act of promiscuity must he divorce her.   

Addressing Rashi's Language

There is a textual difficulty found in Rashi's commentary. Rashi writes that if sof biah koneh, the Kohen Gadol is attempting to betroth a woman who "became a be'ulah from the initial penetration (ha'ara'ah), which was not for the sake of kiddushin (she'lo l'shem kiddushin)."

This language is highly problematic based on the previous point. How can Rashi say the beginning of the act was not for the sake of kiddushin? The whole reason the Kohen Gadol does this is with the intent for marriage which spans the entire act!

The Reinterpretation of Rashi:

The speaker resolves this by distinguishing between legal efficacy and personal intent.

When Rashi says the beginning of the act was "not for the sake of kiddushin," he does not mean the Kohen Gadol lacked the intent to marry her. Rather, Rashi means that from a purely legal standpoint, if the law is sof biah koneh, the initial penetration simply lacks the legal power to execute the marriage.

However, the man's intent (kavanah) to marry her is absolutely present from the first moment. Because this overarching intent for ishus exists, the physical act does not degrade her into a Zonah. Therefore, the logic of the we expressed holds up: she is not considered a woman who engaged in a meaningless, promiscuous act, and the process remains fundamentally an act of marriage.

Or maybe Rashi means that this man's intention when performing the initial penetration [ha'aarah] was NOT for Kiddushin but it is sufficient that he intended to execute the Kiddushin at the end of the act.

Conclusion

The lecture concludes by reiterating that as long as the intention at the end of the act is aligned with the intention at the beginning (that it is for the sake of marriage), the woman is not considered a zonah, and the complex mechanics of kiddushin via biah are upheld and the Kohen Gadol may retain her as a wife].

**מבוא: זמן חלות הקידושין בביאה**

ההרצאה נפתחת בדיון ממסכת קידושין בנוגע למנגנון קידושי אישה בביאה (יחסי מין). השאלה המרכזית היא מתי בדיוק מתרחשת הקנייה ההלכתית (קידושין):

- **תחילת ביאה קונה**: האם הקידושין חלים ממש בתחילת המעשה (חדירה ראשונית / העראה)?

- **סוף ביאה קונה**: או שמא רק בסיום המעשה המלא (גמר ביאה)?

**נפקא מינה**

הגמרא מציגה שני תרחישים מעשיים שבהם ההבחנה הזו משמעותית:

1. **התערבות איש אחר**: אם איש מתחיל את מעשה הביאה לשם קידושין, אך לפני סיום המעשה, האישה מקבלת קידושין (כגון כסף) מאיש אחר. למי היא נשואה? הדבר תלוי לחלוטין האם קידושי האיש הראשון חלו בתחילת המעשה או רק בסופו.

2. **מקרה הכהן הגדול**: זהו המוקד העיקרי של ההרצאה. לפי ההלכה, כהן גדול אסור לו לשאת אישה בעולה. אם הוא מנסה לקדש בתולה בביאה, מועד הקידושין קריטי:

   - אם **תחילת ביאה קונה** – הנישואין תקפים, כי ברגע המדויק שבו מתרחשים הקידושין היא עדיין בתולה.

   - אם **סוף ביאה קונה** – עד שהקידושין מתגבשים הלכתית, המעשה הפיזי כבר הפך אותה לבעולה. לכן הוא למעשה מנסה לשאת בעולה, דבר האסור. אומר המשנה למלך: אם קידשה בביאה – מוציאין אותו בגט (יוציא בגט).

במסכת יבמות נאמר: אם כהן גדול אנס (אונס) או פיתה (מפתה) בתולה – אסור לו לשאתה, ואם נשאה – יוציא בגט.

**זנות לעומת אישות**

עם זאת, קיים הבדל מושגי עמוק בין שני המקרים, על פי הירושלמי ופירוש זכר יצחק (הרב יצחק אייזיק ראבינוביץ):

אי אפשר להשוות מעשה אונס/פיתוי למעשה שנעשה לשם נישואין.

- **ביאת זנות**: אונס או פיתוי הם מעשה של זנות. במקרה זה, האישה נעשית בעולה באופן מוחלט בהקשר נטול כל אישות. אם הכהן הגדול ינסה לאחר מכן לשאתה – הוא מנסה לשאת בעולה מוכחת.

- **ביאת אישות**: כאשר כהן גדול מקדש בתולה בביאה, הכוונה בכל המעשה – מהרגע הראשון – היא לשם אישות.

הירושלמי קובע: אם איש פנוי שוכב עם אישה פנויה לשם שחוק בלבד – הוא עושה אותה זונה. ומכאן דורש הירושלמי: אם כהן גדול מקדש אישה בביאה – אינו נושא בעולה.

משמעות הדבר: במקרה של קידושין בביאה, גם אם הסיום ההלכתי של הנישואין מתרחש רק בסוף המעשה (סוף ביאה קונה), הכוונה לאישות הייתה קיימת מההתחלה. מאחר שהמעשה כולו עטוף בהקשר של אישות, הוא מוגן מפני סיווג כביאה של זנות. לכן הוא רשאי לקיימה כאשתו, בדומה לכך שהוא רשאי לקיים בוגרת [שנחשבת כמעט-בעולה לפי הגמרא, שמסבירה זאת בכך שבסופו של דבר היא הייתה עתידה להיות בעולה בכל מקרה]. לפיכך, מעשה הקידושין אינו עובר על איסור כהן גדול לשאת אישה שנפגמה קודם במעשה זנות.

דבר זה מעורר ספקות לגבי טענת המשנה למלך, שאם קידש בביאה – חייב לגרשה. מאחר שכל המעשה נעשה לשם קידושין – הוא רשאי לקיימה. רק כאשר היא נעשית בעולה במעשה זנות – חייב הוא לגרשה.

**התייחסות ללשון רש"י**

קיימת קושי טקסטואלי בדברי רש"י. רש"י כותב: אם סוף ביאה קונה – הכהן הגדול מנסה לקדש אישה ש"נמצאת בעולה מההעראה, שלא לשם קידושין".

לשון זו בעייתית מאוד לאור הנ"ל. כיצד יכול רש"י לומר שהתחלת המעשה לא הייתה לשם קידושין? כל הסיבה שהכהן הגדול עושה זאת היא בכוונת נישואין שחלה על כל המעשה!

**פירוש מחדש של רש"י**:

המרצה פותר זאת בהבחנה בין תוקף הלכתי לכוונה אישית.

כאשר רש"י אומר שהתחלת המעשה "שלא לשם קידושין" – אין הכוונה שהכהן הגדול חסר כוונת נישואין. אלא, רש"י מתכוון שבמישור ההלכתי הטהור, אם ההלכה היא סוף ביאה קונה – ההעראה הראשונית חסרה את הכוח ההלכתי לבצע את הקידושין.

עם זאת, כוונת האיש לשאתה קיימת באופן מוחלט מהרגע הראשון. מאחר שקיימת כוונה כוללת זו לאישות, המעשה הפיזי אינו משפיל אותה לזונה. לכן, ההיגיון שהובע קודם נשמר: היא אינה נחשבת כאישה שעשתה מעשה זנות חסר משמעות, והתהליך נשאר מהותית מעשה אישות.

או אולי רש"י מתכוון שהכוונה של האיש בעת ביצוע ההעראה הראשונית לא הייתה לקידושין, אלא די בכך שהתכוון לבצע את הקידושין בסוף המעשה.

**סיכום**

ההרצאה מסתיימת בחזרה על כך: כל עוד הכוונה בסוף המעשה מתיישרת עם הכוונה בתחילתו (שהיא לשם נישואין), האישה אינה נחשבת זונה, ומנגנוני הקידושין בביאה נשמרים, והכהן הגדול רשאי לקיימה כאשתו.

Shabbos 54: The Crown Of The Wise Is Their Wealth [Mishlei 14-24]

Context and the Textual Dilemma

The lesson continues a discussion from Tractate Shabbat regarding Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah. A previous text stated that a single cow belonging to him went out on Shabbat wearing a strap between its horns, a practice the Sages disapproved of.

The Gemara then questions this premise: Did he really only have one cow? The Talmud answers by citing Rav, who states that Rabbi Elazar actually had 12,000 calves as his Maaser Behema (animal tithe) every single year. This implies an astronomical level of total wealth.

The Purpose of Talmudic Exaggeration

The speaker uses the Rav’s commentary to explain why the Talmud employs such massive, seemingly exaggerated numbers.

Preserving the Impression: When recounting the lives of great individuals, the narrator's goal is not merely historical accuracy, but conveying the spiritual and emotional magnitude of the person to future generations.

Overcoming Time: Over time, the details of a great person's life fade. To ensure that readers centuries later feel the same awe that Rabbi Elazar's contemporaries felt, the Sages must use vivid, rhetorical framing.

The Crown of Wisdom: The narrator wants to portray how Rabbi Elazar’s wealth was a "crown" to his wisdom (referencing Proverbs 8:14) and how he used it for the public good. The graphic depiction of his wealth is necessary for the listener to truly appreciate his stature.

The Four Tiers of Economic Life

To explain why the specific number of "12,000" is used, the Rav categorizes economic existence into four numerical tiers:

Singles: Represents lack and poverty.

Tens: Represents sufficiency and satisfaction (basic needs are met, but there is no surplus).

Hundreds: Represents abundance and prosperity (wealth beyond basic needs).

Thousands: Represents expansive wealth that extends its influence outward to affect and benefit others.

By describing Rabbi Elazar’s wealth in the "thousands," the Talmud indicates that his wealth was not just abundant, but deeply impactful to the broader society.

Furthermore, the number 12 represents complete, multidimensional expansion:

3 represents full dimensionality (length, breadth, depth; or beginning, middle, and end).

4 represents spreading out in all directions (the four winds/corners of the earth).

Therefore, 3 x 4 = 12, symbolizing a wealth that is fully developed and spreads its positive influence everywhere.

The Sanctification of Wealth (Maaser Behema)

A crucial element of the story is that the 12,000 calves were his Maaser Behema (animal tithe). The Rav draws a profound distinction between agricultural tithes and animal tithes:

Agriculture (Farmers): Farming requires deep immersion in the physical dirt and material grind of the earth. This intense physicality can cause a person to forget their spiritual side. Therefore, God created the Kohanim (priests) and Leviim to serve as spiritual intermediaries. Farmers give their tithes to them to maintain the nation's spiritual equilibrium.

Animal Husbandry (Shepherds): Raising livestock is less tied to the "earthy" materiality of farming. It allows for a freer, more contemplative mind (which is why the Patriarchs and Moses were shepherds). Because the owner is less spiritually corrupted by the labor, there is no need for a priestly intermediary. The owner himself brings the Maaser Behema to Jerusalem, sacrifices it, and eats it in a state of holiness.

By explicitly noting that Rabbi Elazar's wealth was measured in Maaser Behema, the Talmud is teaching that his wealth was entirely sanctified to Heaven. He did not need a middleman to elevate his material success; he was his own "Kohen." He engaged with his massive wealth in a state of total purity and holiness.

The Ultimate Pedagogical Lesson: Responsibility

If Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah was so extraordinarily wealthy and uniquely holy, why does the Talmud introduce him by criticizing a single cow violating Shabbat?

The speaker explains that this contrast serves a vital educational purpose. As the Gemara clarifies elsewhere, the cow in question did not actually belong to Rabbi Elazar—it belonged to his neighbor. However, because Rabbi Elazar was an individual of such immense spiritual stature, wealth, and influence, he had an obligation to protest his neighbor's Sabbath violation. Because he failed to speak up, the Talmud attributes the sin directly to him ("his cow").

Conclusion: The narrative is perfectly constructed. First, it establishes the staggering scale of Rabbi Elazar's sanctified wealth and his unparalleled spiritual greatness. It does this so the reader can grasp the ultimate lesson: With great stature comes great responsibility. The greater and more influential a person is, the more accountable they are for the actions of those around them.

הקשר והדילמה הטקסטואלית

השיעור ממשיך דיון ממסכת שבת בנוגע לרבי אלעזר בן עזריה. טקסט קודם קבע כי פרה אחת שלו יצאה בשבת כשהיא חבושה ברצועה בין קרניה – מנהג שהחכמים לא הסכימו עמו.

הגמרא אז מעלה שאלה על הנחת היסוד הזו: האם באמת הייתה לו רק פרה אחת? התלמוד עונה על ידי ציטוט של רב, שאמר כי לרבי אלעזר היו למעשה 12,000 עגלים כמעשר בהמה שלו בכל שנה ושנה. דבר זה מרמז על רמת עושר אסטרונומית.

מטרת ההגזמה התלמודית

המרצה משתמש בפירושו של הרב כדי להסביר מדוע התלמוד משתמש במספרים כה גדולים, לכאורה מוגזמים.

שימור הרושם: בעת סיפור חייהם של גדולים, מטרת המספר אינה דיוק היסטורי בלבד, אלא להעביר לדורות הבאים את גודל הרוחני והרגשי של האדם.

התגברות על הזמן: עם הזמן, פרטי חייו של אדם גדול נשכחים. כדי שקוראים מאות שנים אחר כך ירגישו את אותה יראת כבוד שהרגישו בני דורו של רבי אלעזר, חייבים חכמים להשתמש במסגרת רטורית חיה ומרשימה.

כתר החכמה: המספר רוצה להציג כיצד עושרו של רבי אלעזר היה "כתר" לחכמתו (בהתייחס למשלי ח:יד), וכיצד הוא השתמש בו לטובת הציבור. התיאור הגרפי של עושרו נחוץ כדי שהשומע יעריך באמת את מעמדו.

ארבעת המדרגות של החיים הכלכליים

כדי להסביר מדוע דווקא המספר "12,000" נבחר, הרב מחלק את הקיום הכלכלי לארבע מדרגות מספריות:

יחידות: מסמל חוסר ועוני.

עשרות: מסמל די והספקה (צורכי היסוד מסופקים, אך אין עודף).

מאות: מסמל שפע והצלחה (עושר מעבר לצורכי היסוד).

אלפים: מסמל עושר מתרחב שמשפיע כלפי חוץ ומשפיע ומטיב עם אחרים.

על ידי תיאור עושרו של רבי אלעזר ב"אלפים", התלמוד מרמז שעושרו לא היה רק שופע, אלא בעל השפעה עמוקה על החברה הרחבה יותר.

יתרה מזאת, המספר 12 מייצג התרחבות שלמה ורב-ממדית:

3 מסמל מימדיות מלאה (אורך, רוחב, עומק; או התחלה, אמצע וסוף).

4 מסמל התפשטות לכל הכיוונים (ארבע רוחות השמים / ארבע פינות העולם).

לכן 3 × 4 = 12, מסמל עושר שפותח במלואו ומפיץ את השפעתו החיובית בכל מקום.

קידוש העושר (מעשר בהמה)

אלמנט מכריע בסיפור הוא שה-12,000 עגלים היו מעשר בהמה שלו. הרב מביא הבחנה עמוקה בין מעשרות חקלאיים למעשרות בעלי חיים:

חקלאות (איכרים): החקלאות דורשת טבילה עמוקה בעפר הארץ ובטרחת החומר. טבילה פיזית זו עלולה לגרום לאדם לשכוח את צדו הרוחני. לכן ברא ה' את הכהנים והלויים כמתווכים רוחניים. האיכרים נותנים להם את מעשרותיהם כדי לשמור על איזון רוחני של האומה.

גידול בהמות (רועים): גידול צאן ובקר פחות קשור ל"ארציות" החומרית של החקלאות. הוא מאפשר נפש חופשית ומתבוננת יותר (זו הסיבה שהאבות ומשה היו רועים). מכיוון שהבעלים פחות נפגם רוחנית מהעבודה, אין צורך במתווך כהני. הבעלים עצמו מביא את מעשר בהמה לירושלים, מקריבו ואוכלו בקדושה.

על ידי ציון מפורש שהעושר של רבי אלעזר נמדד במעשר בהמה, מלמד התלמוד שעושרו היה מקודש לשמיים לחלוטין. הוא לא נזקק למתווך כדי להעלות את הצלחתו החומרית; הוא היה "כהן" לעצמו. הוא התנהל עם עושרו העצום במצב של טהרה וקדושה מוחלטת.

הלקח החינוכי האולטימטיבי: אחריות

אם רבי אלעזר בן עזריה היה עשיר להפליא וקדוש במיוחד, מדוע התלמוד מציג אותו דווקא בביקורת על פרה אחת שחיללה שבת?

המרצה מסביר שהניגוד הזה משרת מטרה חינוכית חיונית. כפי שהגמרא מבהירה במקום אחר, הפרה לא הייתה באמת של רבי אלעזר – היא הייתה של שכנו. אולם, מכיוון שרבי אלעזר היה אדם בעל מעמד רוחני, עושר והשפעה עצומים, הייתה לו חובה למחות על חילול שבת של שכנו. מכיוון שלא מחה, מייחס לו התלמוד את החטא ישירות ("פרתו").

מסקנה: הנרטיב בנוי בצורה מושלמת. תחילה הוא מקים את סולם העושר המקודש העצום ואת גדלותו הרוחנית חסרת התקדים של רבי אלעזר. הוא עושה זאת כדי שהקורא יוכל לתפוס את הלקח האולטימטיבי: עם גדלות גדולה באה אחריות גדולה. ככל שאדם גדול ומשפיע יותר, כך הוא אחראי יותר למעשי הסובבים אותו.

Understanding Why It Is So Critical To Remain Silent

1. The Foundation: Rambam on Silence

The lecture opens with the teachings of the Rambam (Maimonides) regarding speech and silence. The Rambam advises that a person should cultivate silence and minimize speech, speaking only words of Chochma (wisdom) or what is absolutely necessary for physical survival. According to the Sages, "Whoever multiplies words brings sin."

Furthermore, the Rambam states that "a fence for wisdom is silence." Therefore, one should not be hasty to answer, should speak calmly without shouting, and should embody a pleasant demeanor. The rest of the lecture delves into the metaphysical reasons why silence is so deeply connected to wisdom.

2. Two Modes of Existence: Ruach (Spirit) vs. Nefesh (Soul/Rest)

The speaker introduces a fundamental dichotomy in human existence:

Ruach (Spirit/Movement): This represents life, movement, growth, and the drive to elevate oneself. A person operating in the realm of Ruach is in a constant state of ascending. It requires patience (Orech Ruach) and a long-term perspective.

Nefesh (Rest/Settling): This represents a state of being settled (Menucha), stillness, and immediate gratification. When a person is operating merely at the level of Nefesh, they are stagnant, similar to the existence of an animal, seeking what they want now.

This dynamic is tied to the Yetzer Hatov (Good Inclination) and Yetzer Hara (Evil Inclination). Both inclinations are driven by desires, but they differ in the Tzura (form) they give those desires. The Yetzer Hara wants immediate gratification (the present), while the Yetzer Hatov is willing to wait and build toward long-term, elevated spiritual goals.

3. The Dynamics of Chochma (Wisdom) and Bina (Understanding)

To understand silence, one must understand the Jewish mystical concepts of Chochma and Bina:

Chochma (Wisdom): Chochma is the process of bringing things from the hidden realm (He’elem) into the revealed realm (Giluy). It originates from Ayin (nothingness/the hidden divine source). Chochma is associated with the question "Mah?" (What is this?). It is pure potential and is completely connected to its divine, infinite source. כח-מה. It asks "where does it's power come from?"

Bina (Understanding): If Chochma is the raw material, Bina is the building process. The speaker quotes the Sefer Yetzirah (Book of Creation), comparing letters to stones and words to houses. Chochma is pre-verbal, and Bina creates letters [stones אבנים-בנין-בינה] and builds structured concepts (houses/words) out of them. Bina defines, categorizes, and settles the raw wisdom.

4. Metaphysical Gender: Zachar (Male) vs. Nekeiva (Female)

The speaker applies these concepts to the metaphysical/kabbalistic archetypes of male and female:

Zachar (Male): Aligned with Chochma, Ruach, and the infinite source. The gematria (numerical value) of Zachar equates to Bracha (Blessing). A blessing is limitless and represents the flow of continuous, uninhibited life force.

Nekeiva (Female): Aligned with Bina, Nefesh, and Menucha (rest/settling). The word Nekeiva is rooted in the word for a "hole" or "boundary," representing limits and structure (like a set salary as opposed to a limitless blessing). The feminine archetype takes the limitless flow of Chochma and gives it physical boundaries, building the structure of reality. The Talmud states that women were given "nine measures of speech" out of ten, linking the feminine archetype directly to the creation of words/structures.

A woman takes man's raw chochma [seed] and builds and develops it [בנין-בינה] into a complete human being. 

5. Why Speech Leads to Sin and Silence is Wisdom

Speech (Dibbur) is the act of taking pure, infinite wisdom and trapping it within limited words (houses).

The Danger of Speech: When a word leaves the mouth, it risks being cut off from its divine source (Ma'ayan Chaim - the spring of life). If a person speaks excessively without connecting their words to Chochma, their words are "dead" and disconnected from God. This disconnection is the root of sin.

The Power of Silence (Shtika): Silence is the realm of Chochma and the realm of the hidden (Ne'elam). By remaining silent, a person stays connected to the infinite, limitless source of truth. Therefore, silence is the ultimate "fence for wisdom" because it prevents wisdom from being corrupted, limited, or disconnected from God through careless words.

6. Practical Application: Accepting Divine Decrees (Yissurim)

The lecture concludes by applying this philosophy to the human experience of suffering and divine decrees.

When a person complains or questions God's judgment using words, they are using a limited tool (Bina/speech) to try and comprehend an infinite reality (Chochma/God).

The proper response to divine decrees is silence. By remaining silent, a person acknowledges that God's wisdom is beyond human comprehension and human words. Silence is an act of ultimate submission and connection to the Divine.

The ultimate example of this is Aaron the High Priest. When his two sons died tragically, the Torah records: "Vayidom Aharon" (And Aaron was silent). Because he used silence to accept God's infinite wisdom, he was rewarded by God speaking directly and exclusively to him in the subsequent verses.

The speaker references a famous story from the Talmud (Menachos 29b). Moses is given a prophetic vision of the future and sees the great sage Rabbi Akiva teaching Torah. However, Moses is then shown Rabbi Akiva’s horrific death—he is martyred by the Romans, his flesh torn with iron combs.

Horrified, Moses asks God: "Zu Torah v'zu s'chara?" ("This is the Torah, and this is its reward?").

God replies: "שתוק, כך עלה במחשבה לפני" ("Be silent, for thus it has arisen in My thought").

The Standard Understanding vs. The Speaker's Deep Interpretation

On a surface level, God's answer sounds like a harsh dismissal: "Stop asking questions; you aren't allowed to know."

However, using the kabbalistic concepts built throughout the lecture, the speaker completely reframes God's response. God is not simply telling Moses to "be quiet." Instead, God is giving Moses the exact metaphysical tool required to process incomprehensible suffering. By saying, "Thus it has arisen in My thought," God is identifying the exact spiritual location actually giving Moshe a profound spiritual instruction on how to access the infinite. 

"Go into the world of shtika and you will understand".  

Conclusion:

True wisdom is not found in excessive talking or trying to define everything with words. True wisdom is found in silence, which connects the soul to the infinite, the hidden, and the divine source of all life.

### 1. היסוד: הרמב"ם על השתיקה

ההרצאה נפתחת בדברי הרמב"ם בנוגע לדיבור ולשתיקה. הרמב"ם מייעץ לאדם לטפח שתיקה ולהמעיט בדיבור, ולדבר רק דברי חכמה או דברים שהם הכרחיים ממש לקיום הגוף. לפי חז"ל, "כל המרבה דברים מביא חטא".  

יתרה מזאת, הרמב"ם קובע ש"סייג לחכמה שתיקה". לכן, אין למהר להשיב, יש לדבר בנחת בלי צעקה, ולהיות בעל נימוס נעים. שאר ההרצאה עוסקת בסיבות המטאפיזיות העמוקות לכך שהשתיקה קשורה כל כך עמוק לחכמה.

### 2. שתי מצבי קיום: רוח מול נפש (מנוחה)

המרצה מציג דיכוטומיה יסודית בקיום האנושי:  

**רוח** (תנועה/רוחניות): מייצג חיים, תנועה, צמיחה והתעלות. אדם הפועל ברמה של רוח נמצא במצב מתמיד של עלייה. זה דורש סבלנות (אורך רוח) ומבט ארוך טווח.  

**נפש** (מנוחה/התיישבות): מייצג מצב של התיישבות (מנוחה), דממה וסיפוק מיידי. כאשר אדם פועל רק ברמת הנפש, הוא קפוא, דומה לקיום של בעל חיים, המחפש את מה שהוא רוצה עכשיו.  

דינמיקה זו קשורה ליצר הטוב וליצר הרע. שני היצרים מונעים מתאוות, אך הם שונים בצורה (צורה) שהם נותנים לתאוות. היצר הרע רוצה סיפוק מיידי (ההווה), בעוד היצר הטוב מוכן להמתין ולבנות לקראת מטרות רוחניות מרוממות ארוכות טווח.

### 3. הדינמיקה של חכמה ובינה

כדי להבין את השתיקה, צריך להבין את המושגים הקבליים של חכמה ובינה:  

**חכמה** (Wisdom): חכמה היא התהליך של הבאת דברים מהעלם (הנסתר) אל הגילוי. היא נובעת מאין (האין האלוקי הנסתר). חכמה קשורה לשאלה "מה?" (מה זה?). היא פוטנציאל טהור ומחוברת לחלוטין למקורה האלוקי האינסופי. כח-מה. היא שואלת "מאין כוחה בא?".  

**בינה** (Understanding): אם חכמה היא חומר גלם, בינה היא תהליך הבנייה. המרצה מצטט מספר יצירה, המשווה אותיות לאבנים ומילים לבתים. חכמה היא טרום-מילולית, ובינה יוצרת אותיות [אבנים – בנין – בינה] ובונה מושגים מובנים (בתים/מילים) מתוכם. בינה מגדירה, מסווגת ומתיישבת את החכמה הגולמית.

### 4. מגדר מטאפיזי: זכר מול נקבה

המרצה מיישם מושגים אלה על הארכיטיפים הקבליים/מטאפיזיים של זכר ונקבה:  

**זכר**: מתיישר עם חכמה, רוח ומקור אינסופי. גימטריה של "זכר" שווה ל"ברכה". ברכה היא ללא גבול ומסמלת זרימה מתמדת של כוח חיים ללא מעצורים.  

**נקבה**: מתיישרת עם בינה, נפש ומנוחה (התיישבות). המילה "נקבה" שורשית ב"נקב" (חור/גבול), ומסמלת גבולות ומבנה (כמו משכורת קבועה לעומת ברכה ללא גבול). הארכיטיפ הנשי לוקח את הזרימה האינסופית של חכמה ונותן לה גבולות פיזיים, בונה את מבנה המציאות. התלמוד אומר שנשים ניתנו "תשעה קבין דיבור" מתוך עשרה, ומקשר ישירות את הארכיטיפ הנשי ליצירת מילים/מבנים.  

אישה לוקחת את חכמתו הגולמית של הגבר [זרע] ובונה ומפתחת אותה [בנין-בינה] לבן אדם שלם.

### 5. מדוע דיבור מביא חטא ושתיקה היא חכמה

דיבור (דיבור) הוא פעולת לקיחת חכמה טהורה ואינסופית ולכידתה בתוך מילים מוגבלות (בתים).  

**הסכנה שבדיבור**: כאשר מילה יוצאת מהפה, היא מסתכנת בהינתקות ממקורה האלוקי (מעיין החיים). אם אדם מדבר יותר מדי בלי לחבר את דבריו לחכמה, דבריו "מתים" ומנותקים מאלוקים. ניתוק זה הוא שורש החטא.  

**כוח השתיקה**: שתיקה היא תחום החכמה ותחום הנעלם. על ידי שמירה על שתיקה, האדם נשאר מחובר לאינסופי, ללא גבול, מקור האמת. לכן שתיקה היא "סייג לחכמה" האולטימטיבי – היא מונעת מהחכמה להיפגם, להיות מוגבלת או מנותקת מאלוקים על ידי מילים רשלניות.

### 6. יישום מעשי: קבלת גזירות שמיים (ייסורים)

ההרצאה מסיימת ביישום הפילוסופיה הזו לחוויה האנושית של סבל וגזירות אלוקיות.  

כאשר אדם מתלונן או שואל על משפטי אלוקים במילים, הוא משתמש בכלי מוגבל (בינה/דיבור) כדי לנסות להבין מציאות אינסופית (חכמה/אלוקים).  

התגובה הנכונה לגזירות היא שתיקה. על ידי שתיקה, האדם מכיר בכך שחכמת ה' למעלה מהבנת האדם ומילותיו. השתיקה היא מעשה של מסירות והתחברות מוחלטת לאלוקי.  

הדוגמה האולטימטיבית היא אהרן הכהן. כאשר שני בניו מתו בטרגדיה, התורה כותבת: "וידום אהרן" (ואהרן שתק). משום שהשתמש בשתיקה לקבל את חכמת ה' האינסופית, זכה שאלוקים ידבר אליו ישירות ובאופן בלעדי בפסוקים הבאים.  

המרצה מתייחס לסיפור תלמודי מפורסם (מנחות כט ע"ב): משה רואה בחזון נבואי את רבי עקיבא מלמד תורה, אך אחר כך רואה את מותו הנורא – מעונה בידי הרומאים, בשרו נתלש במסרקות ברזל.  

משה מזועזע ושואל: "זו תורה וזו שכרה?"  

הקב"ה משיב: "שתוק, כך עלה במחשבה לפני".  

**ההבנה הרגילה לעומת הפירוש העמוק של המרצה**  

ברובד הפשט, התשובה נשמעת כדחייה קשה: "תפסיק לשאול; אסור לך לדעת".  

אבל באמצעות המושגים הקבליים שנבנו לאורך ההרצאה, המרצה משנה לחלוטין את הפירוש. הקב"ה אינו פשוט אומר למשה "תשתוק". במקום זאת, הוא נותן למשה את הכלי המטאפיזי המדויק הנדרש כדי לעבד סבל בלתי נתפס. באומרו "כך עלה במחשבה לפני", ה' מצביע על המיקום הרוחני המדויק – ומעניק למשה הוראה רוחנית עמוקה כיצד לגשת לאינסופי.  

"לך אל עולם השתיקה ושם תבין".

### סיכום:

חכמה אמיתית אינה נמצאת בדיבור מופרז או בניסיון להגדיר הכל במילים. חכמה אמיתית נמצאת בשתיקה, המחברת את הנשמה לאינסופי, לנסתר ולמקור האלוקי של כל החיים.

Trump Hires Team USA Goalie To Guard Southern Border

WASHINGTON, D.C. — America's national security received a significant boost this week, as President Donald Trump announced that he had hired the goalie of the U.S. men's Olympic hockey team to guard the southern border.

Trump made the announcement from the White House on Tuesday, telling the media that goaltender Connor Hellebuyck had been enlisted to stop all illegal aliens from crossing into the U.S. from Mexico.

"He's unbeatable. Nothing gets past him," Trump told reporters. "I watched him on Sunday against Canada, and he was unbelievable. Pucks flying everywhere. Those Canadians didn't know what to do. He's the best defender I've ever seen. I told Tom Homan, ‘We've got to get Connor. He'll keep everything out, believe me.'"

Hellebuyck was eager to accept the job following the Olympic team's spectacular run. "I'm all about America," he told the media. "Keeping pucks from entering the goal and keeping human beings from entering the country are basically the same thing. Plus, they told me I'm still allowed to use my stick, so that helps."

Sources close to the administration said Border Czar Tom Homan planned to deploy Hellebuyck to the southern border of Texas immediately. "He'll be on the first plane to the border," one insider said. "We've also agreed to supply him with a cooler of ice-cold beer at all times. That's a requirement for hockey players, apparently."

At publishing time, Hellebuyck had already begun practicing for his new job by successfully blocking all CNN journalists from entering the White House.

Return To The Pure Olive Oil

 

  

The speaker uses the biblical commandment of "שמן זית זך" (Pure Olive Oil)—used to light the Menorah in the Tabernacle—as a profound metaphor for the spiritual and national state of the Jewish people today.

The lecture diagnoses the modern Israeli crisis and offers a path forward.

1. The Menorah as the Soul of Israel

The pure olive oil comes from the very first drop of the crushed olive—representing pristine, untainted, original wisdom (Chochmah). The Menorah, which is lit with this oil, represents the inner essence of the Jewish people.

"המנורה כוללת קדושת נשמת ישראל מצד עצמה, שנראית לכאורה חיצונה לגבי התורה שבקודש הקודשים... ובאמת היא מאירה לכל, והיא סוד עדות לישראל..."

Translation: "The Menorah encompasses the holiness of the soul of Israel in its own right, which seemingly appears external compared to the Torah in the Holy of Holies... but in truth, it illuminates everything, and is the secret of the testimony for Israel..."

Meaning: While the Ark of the Covenant represents the hidden Torah, the Menorah represents the active Soul of Israel. Its job is to take the holy wisdom from within and radiate it outward to the world. To do this, the "oil" (the wisdom guiding the nation) must be absolutely pure and deeply connected to its divine source.

2. The Crisis of the Generation: The Gap Between Intellect and Ability

The current state of Israeli society and leadership suffers from a loss of direction, political weakness (e.g., entertaining the division of the land), and a dilution of Torah values. There is a painful gap between knowing what is right and having the willpower to do it.

"יש גם שההכרה המוסרית מקדמת היא את עצמה הרבה מהיכולת המוסרית החופשית... ואז הוספת דעת זו תוסיף מכאובים רבים... כי הוא הולך בעצמו קודר תחת הלחץ של רצון עצמו הנדכא..."

"There are also times when moral recognition advances far ahead of free moral ability... and then this added knowledge adds many pains... because he walks in gloom under the pressure of his own depressed will..."

Meaning: We have a deep, internal recognition (Hakara) of our grand destiny as a holy nation in our land. However, our actual "ability" and "willpower" (Ratzon) are currently depressed. We know we shouldn't give away parts of the Land of Israel, but the nation lacks the spiritual strength to execute its inner moral compass.

3. Transitioning from Instinct to Conscious Recognition

Why is this happening now? The speaker explains that in the exile (Galus), Jews kept the Torah out of instinct and habit. However, the return to the Land of Israel requires a totally different level of spiritual maturity.

"כנסת ישראל עומדת היא עכשיו על המעבר, לצאת מתוך חיים אינסטינקטיים לחיים של הכרה."

"Knesses Yisrael [the Congregation of Israel] is currently standing at the transition, to leave an instinctual life for a life of conscious recognition."

Meaning: We can no longer survive on the "instinctual" Judaism of the exile, nor on the secular "instinctual" Zionism of the early state founders. The only way to move forward is through Hakara—a deep, intellectually rigorous, and conscious recognition of God and Torah. Without this, the nation becomes confused and adopts foreign ideologies.

4. Living on Nostalgia ("Zemer") instead of True Song ("Shir")

One can distinguish between different types of spiritual expression to explain the current secular and religious establishment.

"[מדרגת] שיר, שהוא שכל, יכולת, רצון [ר"ת שיר]... שהוא למעלה מזמר, החובק רק את ההמשכות של השיר ולא את עוצם מקוריותו."

Translation: "[The level of] 'Shir' (Song), which is intellect, ability, and will... is higher than 'Zemer' (Melody), which embraces only the continuations of the song and not the power of its originality."

Meaning: Shir (Song) represents the perfect harmony of pure Torah wisdom (Sechel), Will (Ratzon), and Action (Yecholes). This is the "pure olive oil." However, today, much of Israeli society is living on Zemer—nostalgia. They live on the fumes and memories of the "founders of the state" (Palmach, early pioneers) without any connection to the original divine source that fueled them. You cannot sustain a nation on nostalgia alone.

Conclusion

The speaker concludes that to properly "light the Menorah," we cannot use compromised oil—watered-down Torah, secularized Judaism, or reformist ideologies. We must return to "שמן זית זך" (Pure Olive Oil)—the very first drop. This means engaging in profound, uncompromising, and deep Torah study that rebuilds the authentic Jewish intellect, which will in turn restore the nation's willpower and strength to fulfill its divine mission.

On God and Auschwitz

Judaism has its silences, Elie Wiesel once said, but we do not speak about them. After the Holocaust, the Shoah, there was one of the great silences of Jewish history. A third of world Jewry had gone up in flames. Entire worlds – the bustling Jewish townships of Eastern Europe, the talmudic academies, the courts of the Jewish mystics, the Yiddish-speaking masses, the urbane Jews of Germany, the Jews of Poland who had lived among their gentile neighbours for eight hundred years, the legendary synagogues and houses of study – all were erased. A guard at Auschwitz, testifying at the Nuremburg trial, explained that at the height of the genocide, when the camp was turning ten thousand Jews a day into ashes, children were thrown into the furnaces alive. When the destruction was over, a pillar of cloud marked the place where Europe’s Jews had once been; and there was a silence that consumed all words. 

More had died in the final solution than Jews. It was as if the image of God that is man had died also. We know in retrospect that Jews – both victims and survivors – simply could not believe what was happening. 

Since the Enlightenment they had come to have faith that a new order was in the making, in which the age-old teachings of contempt for the chosen-or-rejected people were at an end, and in their place would come a rational utopia. It is hard in retrospect to imagine that sense of almost religious wonder which German Jews felt for the country of Goethe, Beethoven and Immanuel Kant. That Christian anti-Judaism might mutate into the monster of racial antisemitism, that a Vatican might watch as the covenantal people went to its crucifixion, that chamber music might be played over the cries of burning children, that the rational utopia might be Judenrein: these, for the enlightened Jews of Europe, were the ultimately unthinkable thoughts. Since the early nineteenth century, humanity had seemed to many Jews a safer bet than God; and it was that faith that was murdered in the camps. Where was man at Auschwitz? 

But where, too, was God? That He was present seemed a blasphemy; that He was absent, even more so. How could He have been there, punishing the righteous and the children for sins, their own or someone else’s? But how could He not have been there, when, from the valley of the shadow of death, they called out to Him? 

Jewish faith sees God in history. But here was a definitive, almost terminal moment, in Jewish history, and where was God’s hand and His outstretched arm? It seemed as if the Shoah must have, and could not have, religious meaning. 

Wiesel has written of that time: “Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself.” But to whom could one speak of these things so much larger than man, if not to God? It was a crisis of faith without precedent in the annals of belief. If God existed, how was Auschwitz possible? But if God did not exist, how was humanity after Auschwitz credible? 

There is a line of theological reasoning which argues that a single moment of innocent suffering is as inexplicable as attempted genocide. The death of one child is as much a crisis for religious belief as the Shoah. 

That is true. But it is to miss one essential of Jewish belief. There is theology, but beyond that there is covenant, the bond between God and a singular people. Even the most terrifying curse in the Bible ends with the verse, “Yet in spite of this, when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not reject or abhor them so as to destroy them completely, breaking my covenant with them.” The faith of Israel is peculiarly tied to the people of Israel, to its existence as God’s witness. If there were no Christians, Christianity might still be true. If there were no Jews, Judaism would be false. The survival of the Jewish people is the promise on which the entire covenant rests. 

Jews had faced inquisitions and pogroms before. They had even, in the book of Esther, recorded Haman’s decision “to destroy, kill and annihilate all Jews – young and old, women and children – on a single day.” But redemption had always come, or if not redemption, refuge. In the Holocaust, perhaps for the first time, Jews came face to face with the possibility of extinction. The covenant, the one Jewish certainty, was within sight of being broken. Not only the present and future, but the Jewish past too would have died. 

And so, for twenty years after the Shoah, there was an almost total theological silence. The questions were too painful to ask. It was as if, like Lot’s wife, turning back to look on the destruction would turn one to stone. 

There were, in those years, a few attempts to break the silence. But they only served to show how broken the traditional categories were. The late Rabbi Joel Teitelbaum, leader of the Hassidic community of Satmar and himself a survivor of Bergen-Belsen, invoked biblical theology and declared the Holocaust a punishment for sins. The Jewish people had, according to the Talmud, taken an oath to wait patiently in exile, but secular Zionism had broken this promise by forcing the course of Jewish history, and bringing a premature ingathering to the holy land. The Shoah was a punishment for Zionism. 

An Israeli thinker, Menachem Hartom, pursued the same logic to its opposite conclusion. Throughout its history, he argued, the Jewish people had regarded exile as punishment, as not-being-at-home. That is, until the Emancipation. Then, for the first time, Jews argued that Europe was where they belonged. Some abandoned the hope for a return to Israel, others deferred it to a metaphysical end of days. For the first time Jews ceased to be Zionists. And for this they suffered a devastating retribution. Germany, the country more than any other that Jews had worshipped, became the avenger. The Shoah was a punishment for anti-Zionism. 

This kind of argument led everywhere and nowhere. An American Jewish theologian, Richard Rubinstein, drew the radical conclusion. If there is a God of history, he argued, we must see the Shoah as a punishment for sin. But there is no sin that could warrant the deaths of a million children. There can be no vindication of the ways of Providence. Therefore there is no God of history. An ancient heresy had been proved true. There is no justice and no judge. 

Rubinstein became a kind of religious atheist. But ironically, only a hair’s-breadth away, was a position found in classic Jewish thought. And it was now taken up by such leading Orthodox thinkers as Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik and Eliezer Berkovits. 

In the Bible there are references to hester panim, the hiding of the face of God. There are moments, perhaps eras, in which God withdraws from history. The rabbinic literature contained an extraordinary statement, which by a slight textual emendation, turned the phrase “Who is like You, God, among the mighty?” into “Who is like You among the silent?” God, as it were, holds Himself back in self-imposed restraint, allowing men freedom, including the freedom to do evil. God was neither present nor absent at Auschwitz: He was hidden. The line of thought was barely comforting, for it argued an exile of God from the human domain that was little short of complete eclipse. 

But it was in 1967, in the weeks surrounding Israel’s Six-Day War, that an extraordinary transformation took place in Jewish sensibilities. It seemed, in the anxious days before the war, as if a second holocaust was in the making. And the memory of the first, so suppressed for two decades, broke through with terrible force, in the form of an imperative: Never again. 

Israel’s sudden victory released a flood of messianic emotion. For some it seemed as if God had finally re-entered history after His long exile. And when the mood subsided a deeper sense began to form – that the State of Israel was a powerful affirmation of life, a determination never again to suffer the role of victim. Virtues which had long been at the heart of Judaism in exile – martyrdom, passivity, trust – had been overthrown. They now seemed, in retrospect, to be unwitting accomplices to genocide. A quite new Holocaust theology began to emerge. 

Its most articulate theoretician was Emile Fackenheim, who argued that the Holocaust was not to be understood, but responded to. His boldest move was to claim that the Shoah had created a new commandment – and he meant the word in its religious sense. Jews are forbidden to hand Hitler a posthumous victory. Because Hitler made it a crime simply to exist as a Jew, simply to exist as a Jew became an act of defiance against the force of evil. Choosing to have children after the Shoah was itself a monumental act of faith. The old dichotomy between religious and secular had now lost its meaning. For even the most secular Jew who chose to remain Jewish in the face of a possible future holocaust was making a religious act of commitment. Jewish survival became a, perhaps even the, religious imperative. 

Fackenheim spoke to a new Jewish consciousness. There was a sense, shared by many, that secular activity had been charged with religious meaning. Israel’s victory, her determination to survive, the intense involvement of Jews everywhere in her fate, all combined to place Jewish peoplehood and survival at the centre of the religious drama. God may have hidden His face. But the Jewish people had disclosed a new one of its own. God may have withdrawn from history. Israel, at least, had re-entered it. 

The American theologian, Irving Greenberg spoke of a new era in which the covenant had been voluntarily renewed, but in which man, not God, had become the senior partner. Never before had survival per se carried such religious weight. 

But there was to be a further twist in the dialectic. In the twenty years since Fackenheim’s commandment to survive, it has become clear that not all sectors of the Jewish world have heeded its call. In the Diaspora, Jewish birth-rates fell to below replacement levels. The momentum of assimilation has accelerated. Frustrating Hitler has proved to be no base for Jewish survival. 

One group of Jews, though, has obeyed Fackenheim’s command to the letter. They have had children in great numbers. They have rebuilt their lost worlds. They have proved themselves the virtuosi of survival. The irony is that they are a group who would deny the entire basis of Fackenheim’s thought. They are the ultra-religious, for whom piety, not peoplehood, is the dominant value, and to whom secular survival is not Jewish survival at all. 

This was the one group whose responses to the Holocaust lay unconsidered, and only slowly has the written testimony come to light. It makes remarkable reading. For we now know that there were Jews in the concentration camps who lived in the nightmare kingdom as if it were just another day, patiently confronting the never-before-imagined questions and finding answers. 

May a father purchase his son’s escape from the ovens, knowing that the quotas will be met and another child will die in his place? May a Jew in the Kovno ghetto recite the morning benediction, “Blessed are you, O Lord, Who has not made me a slave?” May one pronounce the blessing over martyrdom over a death from which there is no escape? What blessing does one make before being turned to ashes? The rabbis searched the sources and gave their rulings, and some of their writings have survived. 

Over one who uninterruptedly studies God’s word, said the rabbis, even the angel of death can win no victory. How true this was of the pious Jews of Auschwitz and Treblinka and Bergen-Belsen, discovering as they did that in the face of ultimate evil, the word of God was not silent. It had an awe-inspiring resonance. God did not die at Auschwitz, they said. He wept tears for His people as they blessed His name at the gates of death. Their bodies were given as burnt offerings and their lives as a sanctification of God’s name. “The fire which destroys our bodies,” said Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman before he was killed, “is the fire which will restore the Jewish people.” And so it was. The Jews of faith, who were able to sanctify death in the Holocaust, turned out to be the most determined to sanctify life after the Holocaust. 

So, once the silence was broken, Jewish responses to the Shoah have been many and conflicting. But one above all deserves mention, all the more remarkable for having been written fifteen hundred years before the event. 

The Talmud contains an enigmatic passage, which says that when the Israelites stood at Mount Sinai they were reluctant to accept the covenant. They did so only because God threatened to let the mountain fall on their heads. For centuries they kept the faith only because they were coerced. When, then, did they finally accept it voluntarily? The Talmud answers: in the days of Ahasuerus, when Haman threatened to kill all Jews. 

Only now, in retrospect, does the meaning of the passage become clear. The threat of genocide created a new dimension of covenant: the covenant of a shared fate. Every Jew, after Auschwitz, knows that in some sense he is a survivor, an accidental remnant, and he shares that knowledge with every member of his people. As the covenant of faith seemed to be breaking, the covenant of fate has risen to take its place. 

And the stubborn people has shown its obstinacy again. Faced with destruction, it has chosen survival. Lo amut ki echyeh, says the Psalm: “I will not die, but I will live.” And in this response there is a kind of courage which rises beyond theology’s reach. 

One writer about the Shoah records that he met a rabbi who had been through the camps and who, miraculously, seemed unscarred. He could still laugh. “How,” he asked him, “could you see what you saw and still have faith? Did you have no questions?” The rabbi replied, “Of course I had questions. But I said to myself, if you ever ask those questions, they are such good questions that God will send you a personal invitation to heaven to give you the answers. And I preferred to be here on earth with the questions than up in heaven with the answers.” 

As with the rabbi, so with the Jewish people. Without answers, it has reaffirmed its covenant with history. The people Israel lives and still bears witness to the living God. 

Faith in the future