The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

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Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT VAETCHANAN

Rav David Silverberg

            Perhaps the most famous story surrounding the tragedy of the destruction of the Second Temple is that of Kamtza and Bar-Kamtza (told in Masekhet Gittin 55b-56a), the two men who were, respectively, the dear friend and archrival of a wealthy man in Jerusalem.  The wealthy man once hosted an affair and sent an invitation to his comrade Kamtza, but it was accidentally delivered to Bar Kamtza.  Upon seeing his despised adversary at the party, the man angrily and publicly ousted him, despite Bar Kamtza's pleas and even after his offer to pay for the entire affair.  Bar Kamtza was infuriated by this incident, particularly by the silence of the rabbinic figures present at the celebration, and brought false reports of the Jews' plans for insurrection to the Roman emperor.  These allegations ultimately led to Jerusalem's destruction.

            The Talmud introduces this famous account by asserting, "Jerusalem was destroyed because of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza."  Many later authors and darshanim have addressed the question of why the Gemara implicates Kamtza, whose only crime was having a name that resembled Bar Kamtza and thus confused the mail carrier.  Why is he to blame for this affair?  Why is he deemed indirectly responsible for the fall of Jerusalem?

            The most common answer, perhaps, is that Kamtza bears accountability for allowing or even encouraging the hostilities between his friend and Bar Kamtza.  It seems that the Jewish communities of the time divided themselves into exclusive cliques that rivaled against one another.  The Gemara thus casts responsibility upon all parties involved – including Kamtza, apparently an active member of the "clique" that looked down upon and shunned Bar Kamtza and his crowd.

            The Ben Ish Chai, however, in his work Ben Yehoyada (as cited and developed by Rav Dovid Gottlieb at www.cross-currents.com/archives/2007/07/17/kamtza-and-bar-kamtza-a-fresh-look-at-a-familiar-story), suggests a much different explanation.  Namely, the Talmud seeks to emphasize that the Temple's destruction was caused by a seemingly minor, innocent mistake by a mail carrier.  A brief moment of confusion on the part of an unnamed delivery boy set into motion the process that led to this great catastrophe.  What the Gemara seeks to convey, the Ben Ish Chai suggested, was that so-called "little things" really do matter, that small mistakes can have very large consequences.  Innocent mistakes certainly do happen, but not all innocent mistakes are so innocent.  Just a bit more care and patience on the mailman's part would have ensured the invitation's delivery to the proper address, and would have averted this entire tragedy.  All it took was this small mistake to cause a Jew devastating humiliation and bring exile and destruction upon the Jewish people.

            Of course, this episode is an unusually extreme example of the consequences of minor oversights, but it serves as an example nonetheless.  It bids us to pay close attention to detail and avoid even minor mishaps and careless mistakes, which can often yield more serious repercussions than we sometimes think.

            One particular area where this phenomenon is commonly manifest is that of interpersonal relations; indeed, it is perhaps no accident that this is the precise context of the carrier's oversight.  It often takes just one thoughtless remark, a brief moment of anger or absentmindedness, to spark controversy, ignite hostility, and destroy a relationship.  Forgetting to return a friend or colleague's phone call might seem like a very minor "offense," but often it could cause considerable frustration and inconvenience.  If there is an area of life where we must be extra vigilant in distinguishing between "Kamtza and Bar Kamtza," in thinking carefully to avoid not-so-innocent mistakes, it is our relationships with friends and family members.  If the confusion of "Kamtza and Bar Kamtza" destroyed Jerusalem, then we could perhaps hasten the city's return to glory by exercising greater care and concern for even the so-called "little things," particularly in how we speak and act towards our relatives and peers.

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            Yesterday we discussed the famous story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, which tells of a vicious confrontation between two archrivals, one of whom sought revenge by falsely reporting to the emperor that the Jews planned a revolt.  The Gemara (Masekhet Gittin 55b-56a) tells that to prove his allegations, Bar Kamtza advised the emperor to send an animal to be offered as a sacrifice in the Beit Ha-mikdash, and predicted that the Jews would refuse to accept it.  As he transported the emperor's animal to Jerusalem, Bar Kamtza made an incision in the animal's eyelid or lip (depending on two different recorded versions of the incident), knowing that this disqualified the animal as a sacrifice.

            The rabbinic leadership, aware of Bar Kamtza's scheme, faced the question of how to respond.  The Gemara tells that Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkulas, apparently one of the leading authorities of the time, ruled that the kohanim must refuse to offer the animal, lest it establish a precedent allowing a blemished animal as a korban.  He further ruled against killing Bar Kamtza to prevent him from reporting back to the emperor, claiming that this might convey the message that blemishing an animal designated as a sacrifice is punishable with death.  The Talmud famously records Rabbi Yochanan's sorrowful reaction to this incident: "Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkulas' humility destroyed our home, consumed our Sanctuary, and exiled us from our land!"

            It appears that the Gemara attributes Rabbi Zekharya's ill-conceived ruling to his misplaced "humility."  The danger that loomed over the Jewish people at that moment called for bold action and decisions on the part of the leadership.  Despite his position of prominence and authority, Rabbi Zekharya felt that he simply did not have broad enough shoulders to demand as an emergency measure a one-time suspension of the protocol in the Mikdash.  To his credit, Rabbi Zekharya was firmly devoted to the halakhic minutiae of the Temple's sacrificial system, and was naturally – and rightfully – reluctant to suspend the fundamental rule that forbids offering blemished animals.  No one – especially not rabbinic leaders – should act cavalierly towards the halakhic system and sanction deviations from normative practice at whim.  But the gravity of the Jews' situation during the time of Rabbi Zekharya mandated such a provision, and Rabbi Zekharya lacked the boldness of character to issue this ruling.

            Interestingly enough, the Midrash (Eikha Rabba 4:3) tells that Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkulas was among the rabbis at the party to which Bar Kamtza had been mistakenly invited.  Recall that Bar Kamtza's ire was kindled not merely as a result of the host's hostility, but, primarily, by the indifference he sensed on the part of the rabbis in attendance.  ("He said: Since the rabbis were sitting [there] and did not object, then apparently they approve.")  Once again, it appears the Rabbi Zekharya is accused of misdirected humility.  He likely felt unworthy or too unimportant to intervene as the host chased Bar Kamtza.  He of course did not approve of the host's behavior – as Bar Kamtza rashly concluded – but he was too humble to make the bold move of protesting Bar Kamtza's humiliation.

(For a fuller discussion of this topic, see Rav Yitzchak Blau's essay at www.vbm-torah.org/3weeks/9av-65-ryb.htm.)

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            The Torah reading for the morning of Tisha B'Av is taken from Parashat Vaetchanan (4:25-40), where Moshe foresees the exile Benei Yisrael will endure as punishment for their abandonment of God and the Torah.  He assures the people that their repentance in exile will be accepted by God, because, he explains, "the Lord your God is a compassionate God – he shall not fail you or destroy you" ("lo yarpekha ve-lo yashchitekha" – 4:31).

            The Netziv, in his commentary to this verse, explains that these two promises – that the Almighty will neither "fail" nor "destroy" the Jewish people – address Benei Yisrael's two primary concerns in exile: the threats of spiritual and physical destruction.  Lo yarpekha refers to the concern that the spiritual influences and pressures exerted upon them in foreign lands will not prevent them from renouncing idolatry and returning to the service of God.  Yarpekha literally means "allow you to become weak," which, according to the Netziv's interpretation, refers to "weakness" of resolve and determination in resisting the foreign pressures and influences that Benei Yisrael confront in exile.  The second promise – ve-lo yashchitekha – refers, of course, to the nation's physical survival despite the harsh conditions of exile and the unrelenting enmity to which they are subject.

            The Netziv extends this approach to explain the subsequent verses (4:32-37), in which Moshe urges the people to recall the wonders of Ma'amad Har Sinai and the Exodus.  In his reference to the Revelation at Sinai, Moshe emphasizes Benei Yisrael's survival of this experience despite their direct exposure to the Almighty.  This description, the Netziv explains, corresponds to the guarantee of lo yarpekha, that the nation would always succeed in withstanding the pressures of exile and remaining steadfastly committed to the Torah.  The extraordinary ability God granted Am Yisrael to survive the frightening spectacle of Ma'amad Har Sinai established the precedent of future Torah acceptance under the most difficult conditions.  Ordinarily humans would be unable to survive the kind of encounter Benei Yisrael experienced at Sinai; that they succeeded in doing so expresses the Almighty's guarantee that He will always enable us to commit ourselves to the Torah and live up to that commitment regardless of the pressures and obstacles we confront along the way.

            The Exodus, of course, corresponds to the second promise, that of ve-lo yashchitekha, the nation's physical survival.  The memory of the wonders and miracles in Egypt reminds us of our ability to survive as a people regardless of where we live or how we are treated.  We are thus assured that even after the nation's banishment into exile, our survival is guaranteed and, as was the case in Egypt, we will one day earn redemption and return to our homeland where our sovereignty and Mikdash will finally be restored.

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            In Yirmyahu's prophecy read as the haftara during shaharit on Tisha B'Av, the prophet records God's declaration that the land was destroyed "al ozvam et Torati" – "because of their abandonment of My Torah" (Yirmiyahu 9:12).  A famous passage in Masekhet Nedarim (81a) explains this verse to mean "she-lo beirkhu ba-Torah techila" – "they did not first recite the blessing."  This remark is commonly understood as attributing the destruction – or at least one aspect of the destruction – to the people's neglect of the halakha of birkat ha-Torah, the obligation to recite a berakha before studying Torah each day.  Many different approaches have been taken to explain why the neglect of this specific detail rendered the people liable to such devastating punishment.

            The Shita Mekubetzet in Masekhet Bava Metzia (86a) cites a much different interpretation of this passage in the name of the Rambam.  According to the Rambam, the Talmud blames the destruction on the fact that "they" – the Torah scholars – were not granted the honor of reciting the berakha first, before others.  Congregations would call laymen and ignoramuses to begin the Torah reading in the synagogue, rather than affording this honor to Torah scholars, and it was on account of this denigration of scholars that Jerusalem was destroyed.  These comments of the Rambam correspond to his harsh remarks in his commentary to the Mishna (Gittin, chapter 5), where he strongly denounces the practice of calling an unlearned kohen for the first aliya rather than a scholarly non-kohen.  (Interestingly, however, in Hilkhot Tefila 12:18, the Rambam codifies this practice without objection, and this is, of course, the prevalent practice today.)

            Rav Aryeh Leib Shapiro, in his work Chazon La-mo'ed (Jerusalem, 5756), notes that according to the Rambam's understanding of the Gemara's comment, this passage may be read in conjunction with a different Talmudic passage, in Masekhet Shabbat (119b).  The Gemara there cites numerous statements from different Amora'im attributing Jerusalem's destruction to a variety of different transgressions.  Rav Yehuda is cited as attributing the tragedy to the fact that "they scorned Torah scholars."  This theory is inferred from a verse in Sefer Divrei Hayamim II (36:16) which tells that God exiled the Jews because they insulted "the angels of God," which Rav Yehuda interprets as a metaphoric reference to Torah scholars.  It is perhaps no coincidence, Rav Shapiro suggests, that Rav Yehuda is also the author of the comment cited in Masekhet Nedarim regarding that the verse "because of their abandonment of My Torah."  According to the Rambam, Rav Yehuda's interpretation of that verse refers to the lack of respect afforded to Torah scholars, the disregard shown to their halakhic authority and stature.  Consistent with this understanding of the churban, Rav Yehuda comments in Masekhet Shabbat that Jerusalem fell due to the scorn and contempt shown to Torah scholars.  This attitude made it impossible for the rabbinic leadership to do its job of guiding and instructing the people, who therefore continued along the path of religious indifference and misconduct that led to the ultimate destruction of Jerusalem.

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            Parashat Vaetchanan introduces for the first time the mitzva of keri'at shema, the obligation to recite certain sections of the Torah (shema, ve-haya im shamo'a, and va-yomer) twice each day, in the evening ("when you lie down") and in the morning ("when you arise").

            The opening Mishna of Masekhet Berakhot establishes that the obligation to recite the nighttime shema begins at tzet ha-kokhavim, nightfall; hence, one who recites shema before nightfall does not fulfill his obligation.  Rashi, commenting to this Mishna, notes the prevalent practice to recite the nighttime shema with arvit earlier in the evening, before nightfall.  It seems that communities in Rashi's time recited arvit before dark – presumably due to safety concerns – and the arvit service included the shema recitation.  (Arvit may be recited as early as pelag ha-mincha, approximately 1.25 hours before sundown.)  Rashi thus addresses the question of how these communities fulfill the obligation of the nighttime shema.  He answers that the shema recitation included as part of the arvit service did not – at least in these communities – serve to fulfill the Torah obligation of shema.  Rather, it served to ensure that the shemona esrei prayer would be recited immediately after the recitation/study of words of Torah.  The Torah obligation of shema, Rashi claimed, is fulfilled through the bedtime shema reading (keri'at shema she-al ha-mita), which people would of course always recite after dark.

            Tosefot challenge Rashi's position, noting that the prevalent practice was to recite only the first paragraph of shema before going to sleep, rather than all three paragraphs.  If, as Rashi contended, it was through the bedtime shema that these communities fulfilled the Torah obligation, they would clearly be required to recite the complete shema, and not merely the first paragraph.

            Apparently, as the Rashba comments, Rashi followed the view (that is shared by a number of other Rishonim) that the Torah obligation of shema is limited to the first paragraph.  The recitation of the second and third paragraphs is required by force of Rabbinic enactment, and is not part of the Torah obligation which requires reciting only the first paragraph.  Since the second and third paragraphs are not included in the Torah obligation, Rashi appears to have held, Halakha treats their recitation more leniently and allows one to recite them earlier in the evening.  Just as one may recite arvit before dark, Rashi maintained, so may one recite the second and third paragraphs of shema before dark.  The first paragraph, which we recite in fulfillment of the Torah obligation of keri'at shema, must be recited after dark, and thus Rashi held that the bedtime shema is recited for this purpose.

            The question, however, remains, why did Chazal not apply to the additional two paragraphs the same time-frame that applies to the first paragraph?  Once they extended the shema obligation to include the second and third paragraphs, why did they not subject the additional recitation to the same schedule that applies to the first paragraph?

            Rav Mordechai Willig, in his work Am Mordechai (p. 17), suggests that in Rashi's view, the additional two paragraphs of shema were added not as an extension of the obligation of shema, but rather as part of the mitzva of tefila (prayer).  The Sages enacted not that the second and third paragraphs should be appended to the shema obligation, but rather than they be recited as part of the daily prayer service.  Accordingly, these additional two paragraphs are subject not to the time-frame of shema, but rather to that of tefila.  Hence, just as Halakha allows reciting arvit before dark, so did Chazal permit reciting the complete shema before dark.  The Torah obligation of shema, which includes only the first paragraph, must be recited after dark.

            Rav Willig adds that this theory could perhaps explain an otherwise difficult position of the Kolbo recorded in the Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 58:7).  According to this view, a person can "make up" a missed shema recitation.  Just as a person who forgot to recite one of the three daily prayers can (and must) recite an additional shemona esrei with the subsequent prayer, so may one "make up" a missed shema recitation during the next time-frame.  Meaning, if a person forgot to recite the daytime shema, he recites an extra shema at night, and vice versa.  (Halakha does not follow this view; see Mishna Berura 58:29.)

            The question arises as to why tashlumin ("making up") should be allowed in the context of shema.  As the Vilna Gaon noted, the concept of tashlumin, as presented in the Talmud, was instituted only with regard to tefila.  How, then, could the Kolbo apply it to shema?  Rav Willig suggests that the Kolbo, like Rashi, evidently held that the Rabbinic extension of shema in essence constitutes an extension of tefila.  They enacted reciting all three paragraphs as part of the daily prayer service, and thus the laws of tefila are applicable to shema, as well.  Hence, just as tefila is subject to tashlumin, so does the notion of tashlumin apply to the shema recitation, as well.

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            As mentioned yesterday, the Torah in Parashat Vaetchanan introduces the mitzva of keri'at shema – the obligation to recite the shema twice each day, in the evening and morning.

            There is a custom practiced by most Ashkenazim to add the words "Kel Melekh Ne'eman" immediately before shema when reciting shema privately, not in the presence of a minyan.  This practice is recorded already by many Rishonim, and it emerges from their discussions that the recitation of "Kel Melekh Ne'eman" was intended for one of two purposes.  In some sources, this recitation is intended to take the place of Amen, as the first letters of Kel Melekh Ne'eman spell the word "Amen."  A number of Rishonim, including the Ra'avan (184) and Orchot Chayim (4), record a practice to recite Amen after completing the berakha preceding shema.  Although generally one does not respond "Amen" to his own berakha, there was a tradition that the berakha preceding the recitation of shema marks an exception to this rule, and one should always recite Amen upon concluding this berakha, before beginning shema.  A variation of this practice, it appears, was to recite Kel Melech Ne'eman in lieu of Amen before one begins the shema.

            Others explained that this practice was intended to add three words to shema in order to bring the total number of words to 248.  As the Shulchan Arukh comments (O.C. 61:3), the words of shema correspond to the 248 limbs in a person's body.  The Mishna Berura (61:6) cites a passage from the Midrash Ha'ne'elam that a person's limbs derive health and stability from the words of shema he recites, and one should therefore recite a total of 248 words with shema.  Thus, three words must be added to the 245 words of shema, and, according to the aforementioned tradition, this is achieved through the addition of Kel Melekh Ne'eman to the beginning of shema.

            Some Rishonim, however, objected to this practice.  The Hagahot Maimoniyot (Hilkhot Berakhot 1:8) wrote that this is indeed an ancient practice, but it was discontinued in many communities who determined that this recitation constituted a hefsek (interruption) in between the berakha and shema.  According to this view, the berakha preceding shema should be perceived as an introduction to the shema recitation, and thus one may not make any interruption in between that berakha and shema.  Instead, one reaches 248 words by listening to the chazan repeat the three words "Hashem Elokeikhem Emet" at the conclusion of shema.

            Accordingly, the Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 61:3) ruled that when one prays with a minyan, he should listen to the chazan's repetition of these three words and thereby reach a total of 248 words.  If, however, a person prays privately, then, according to the Shulchan Arukh, he reaches the total of 248 through the fifteen words that open the berakha after shema – "Emet Ve-yatziv" – all of which begin with the letter vav.  The letter vav has the numerical value of six, and thus the combined total of the vav's in this sequence is ninety.  This number, the Shulchan Arukh observes, represents three instances of the Divine Name of H-V-Y-H; the numerical value of this Name is 26, to which we add four, the number of letters in this Name.  Thus, one who recites shema privately should have in mind as he recites Emet Ve-yatziv that this sequence of words should complete the total number of words in shema to 248.

            The Rama, however, records the aforementioned practice of reciting Kel Melekh Ne'eman when reciting shema privately, thereby achieving the desired total of 248.

            According to the Shulchan Arukh, how does one praying privately achieve the total of 248 during arvit, when the paragraph of Emet Ve-yatziv is not recited?  The Mishna Berura (61:12) writes (citing the Magen Avraham) that according to the Shulchan Arukh, one who recites arvit without a minyan should have in mind that the three letters of the word emet – with which one concludes the shema – should complete the total to 248.  (Presumably, this would apply as well to somebody who recites the morning shema before the shacharit prayer service, such as if he suspects that the congregation will not reach shema before the final time before which shema must be recited.)

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            Moshe admonishes Benei Yisrael in Parashat Vaetchanan, "But take utmost care and carefully guard your soul lest you forget the things that your eyes beheld and lest they leave your heart…the day on which you stood before the Lord your God at Chorev…" (4:9-10).  In this verse Moshe exhorts Benei Yisrael never to forget Ma'amad Har Sinai, the Revelation at Sinai in which God declared the Ten Commandments.

            Why does Moshe emphasize to Benei Yisrael that they should remember that which "your eyes beheld"?  Why does he stress the fact that Benei Yisrael saw with their eyes the events of Ma'amad Har Sinai?

            The simplest answer, perhaps, is that Moshe refers here not to what the people saw, but to what they did not see.  Several verses later, in describing the Revelation, Moshe recalls, "God spoke to you from amidst the fire; you heard the sound of words, but you saw no image – only a voice" (4:12).  He then warns, "You shall carefully guard your souls – for you did not see any image on the day when the Lord spoke to you in Chorev from amidst the fire – lest you act wickedly and make for yourselves a statue, an image of any form…" (4-15-16).  Seemingly, then, Moshe's warning to Benei Yisrael that they must remember "the things your eyes beheld" refers to the fact that the "revelation" they beheld did not consist of any actual form of God.  He thus impresses upon them the fundamental belief in divine incorporeality and the grave transgression of fashioning graven images as representations of the Almighty.

            The Netziv, in his Ha'amek Davar, suggests a much different reading of this verse.  In his view, Moshe here warns of the possibility of losing sight of the basic value of yir'at Shamayim (fear of God) as a result of pilpula shel Torah – the in-depth study and analysis of the intricacies of Torah law.  In verse 11, Moshe emphasizes the frightening spectacle of Ma'amad Har Sinai – the fire, darkness, cloud and fog that enveloped the mountain.  As Moshe told the people after the Revelation (Shemot 20:17), this spectacle was intended – at least in part – to ensure that "His fear shall be upon you so that you shall not sin" – to infuse the people with a sense of fear of divine power and authority.  Am Yisrael's collective memory of this event serves not only to establish the theological truth of the divine origin of the Torah (as the Rambam emphasizes in several contexts), but also to perpetuate a sense of yir'at Shamayim, a degree of fear and dread of God's unlimited power.

            Moshe therefore commands Benei Yisrael never to forget that which their eyes beheld, the message of yir'at Shamayim that the memory of this event should reinforce.  The in-depth study of the intricate details of Torah could potentially blind a scholar's eyes to the origins of those details, to the greatness and power of God which we are to constantly remember and which must cause us to feel a sense of dread at all times.

            A famous Mishna in Pirkei Avot (3:8) cites this verse as the source for the halakha that "whoever forgets a single matter from his studies is considered as though he is liable to death."  Moshe here warns the people against forgetting "the things that your eyes beheld," which the Mishna understands as a reference to divrei Torah generally.  That Moshe introduces this admonition with a warning to "guard your soul" suggests that if a person is careless with regard to his Torah knowledge, he is considered "as though he is liable to death."

            The Netziv (in Herchev Davar) explains that this Mishna adopts a different approach in understanding the phrase "the things that your eyes beheld."  The Mishna here refers to conclusions reached by the Torah scholars through their study and analysis, and the phrase "that your eyes beheld" speaks metaphorically of the analytical process of halakhic decision-making.  Moshe thus warns against forgetting halakhic conclusions, and not about the events of Ma'amad Har Sinai.  As the Netziv notes, the Mishna's interpretation of the verse is intended not as the primary reading, but rather as a secondary understanding whereby the Torah alludes to the importance of remembering the material that one learns.