Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion

The Rambam, in his Mishneh Torah, devotes a single section to the halakhot of Chanukah and Purim. In the introduction to this section he writes that in the following chapters he discusses "two positive mitzvot of the Sages." In other words, the Rambam includes all the mitzvot of Chanukah under a single mitzva, and likewise all the mitzvot of Purim as one mitzva.

Grouping together all the different mitzvot of Purim requires some justification. Three of the obligations indeed seem to very much relate to one another. Mishlo'ach manot and matanot la'evyonim, according to many views, are meant to help one another conduct a proper, lavish Purim feast; as such, these three mitzvot - the meal, mishlo'ach manot and gifts to the poor - all very closely connect with one another. But why does the Rambam include the two readings of the Megila under the same general mitzva as these three obligations? How does the Megila reading relate to these mitzvot?

Rav Soloveitchik zt"l suggested an answer based on a careful reading of the She'iltot (67), which cites the prohibition mentioned in the Gemara (Pesachim 68b) against fasting on Purim but adds an explanation: "mi-shum nisa" - because of the miracle. The Rav noted that the essence of the mitzva of the Purim feast involves "pirsumei nisa" - publicizing the miracle - the same concept underlying the obligation to read the Megila (see Masekhet Megila 18a). Once we view the mitzva of the meal as an expression of pirsumei nisa, rather than simply a requirement to rejoice, we can understand why the Rambam included the meal and the Megila readings under the same category of mitzvot.

This approach towards the nature of the obligation of the feast may yield some interesting practical ramifications. On Yom Tov, we generally assume that someone who will experience discomfort by eating is exempt from the obligation of simchat Yom Tov (rejoicing through eating and drinking on the festival). No such provision appears to exist regarding Purim; one must, it seems, force himself (presumably so long as this poses no threat to his health) to eat at least the bare minimum amount to fulfill the obligation of se'udat Purim. The Rav explained that on Yom Tov, the root of the obligation is simcha - rejoicing, which we accomplish through the medium of food and drink. Once food and drink do not yield the desired result, the obligation cannot apply. On Purim, by contrast, the merrymaking serves primarily to publicize the miracle; one's personal enjoyment, while certainly encouraged and perhaps an important component of the mitzva, does not lie at the core of this obligation. Therefore, even when one will not enjoy eating, he must conduct the Purim meal anyway so as to fulfill the obligation of pirsumei nisa.

(Taken from Rav Michel Shurkin's Harerei Kedem, pp.333-334)

*****

The mitzva of Megila reading on Purim essentially requires every individual to personally read the Megila. The common practice of having one individual read on behalf of the congregation emerges from the halakhic mechanism of "shomei'a ke-oneh" - that listening is equivalent to speech. By listening attentively to the Megila reading, one is rendered as having himself read the text. (According to one view among the Rishonim, however, women's obligation vis-א-vis Megila reading is different, in that their essential requirement is to hear, rather than read.) One must therefore ensure not to miss even a single word of the reading by the ba'al korei.

An interesting dispute among the Acharonim exists as to how precisely "shomei'a ke-oneh" operates. (We briefly discussed this debate several weeks ago, in our S.A.L.T. series for Parashat Yitro, in the context of kiddush.) One view, espoused by the Beit ha-Levi, claims that the listener is considered as having actually articulated the words he hears. Halakha in effect transforms the listened word into a spoken word. The Chazon Ish, by contrast, disagreed. He maintained that the recitation of one individual has the power to fulfill the obligation of the listener even though we do not consider the listener as having personally articulated the words. Halakha allows one to fulfill his obligation concerning a given recitation by carefully listening to the recitation of another; we need not view him as having actually said the words.

The practical difference between these two approaches involves external requirements relevant to the recitation. For example, Tosefot (Pesachim 99b) debate as to whether those who fulfill their obligation of kiddush by listening must hold a cup of wine in their hands, as does the one reciting kiddush. The Chazon Ish claims that this question hinges around the fundamental issue we have discussed. If all "shomei'a ke-oneh" does is transform one's listening into verbalization, then only the recitation of the words can transfer from speaker to listener. The audience will thus require their own kiddush cups. If, however, we take the more liberal approach, that the Torah enables one to "ride on the back" of the speaker and have his recitation apply to the listeners, then only the speaker himself is bound by the external requirements. Once halakha allows one to fulfill his obligation through the recitation of another, then he need only to listen; the speaker's fulfillment of his requirement automatically transfers to them, as well.

The Chazon Ish tries to prove his position, that the recitation applies to the listener even without his being considered as having personally recited, from the halakha concerning Megila reading. One cannot fulfill his obligation to read the Megila if he recites the Megila by heart; it must be read from a scroll. Therefore, the Chazon Ish argues, if shomei'a ke-oneh merely renders the listeners as having personally verbalized the words, how do they fulfill their obligation of Megila reading by listening? As halakha requires reading the Megila from the written text, how can their halakhic "recitation" be valid if they do not have a text before them? (Needless to say, nowhere does halakha require that those listening to Megila reading have a proper Megila before them, though many poskim recommend it.)

Interestingly enough, the Chazon Ish himself laid the groundwork for the refutation of this proof. Recall that he understood Tosefot's debate in Masekhet Pesachim as surrounding this very issue as to how shomei'a ke-oneh operates. The fact that Tosefot does not invoke this proof suggested by the Chazon Ish indicates that it is not a valid proof.

But why not? How can we explain the application of shomei'a ke-oneh to Megila reading if we view it as simply rendering the listener as having personally read the Megila?

One may answer this question by sharpening the distinction between "reading" and "reciting." Indeed, according to the Bet ha-Levi's approach to shomei'a ke-oneh, one cannot fulfill requirements external to the recitation itself by listening. However, the requirement to READ the Megila from the scroll, rather than RECITE it by heart, constitutes an internal, rather than external, requirement. In other words, halakha requires reading the Megila, not reciting the Megila, and reading from a text is a fundamentally different act than reciting from memory. Therefore, one who listens to the reading of the Megila, even according to this approach, fulfills his obligation because he is considered as having himself READ the Megila. Were the written text requirement to be merely an external prerequisite, not inherent in the nature of the reading itself, this may indeed pose a problem. Once, however, this requirement relates to the very definition of the mitzva - to read, as opposed to recite, than this feature can indeed transfer from reader to listener. The listener is considered as having himself read the Megila, just as the reader himself did.

(Based on Rav Eliyahu YehuRosenthal, Imrei Dei'a, p.225)

*****

Upon leaof Haman's edict ordering the Jews' annihilation, Mordekhai informs Ester of the edict and implores her to appeal to the king (Ester 4:8). Though hesitant at first, Ester ultimately agrees to appear before Achashverosh in an attempt to spare her brethren. However, apparently refusing Mordekhai's specific instructions, Ester does not immediately beg the king to annul the decree. Instead, as we know, she invites him and Haman to two dinners she prepares and only then informs the king of her inclusion in Haman's plot. Why did Ester not appeal to the king right away?

In an elaborate analysis of Megilat Ester, Rav Soloveitchik (in an address at Yeshiva University in 1973; published by Hamevaser in "Shiurei ha-Rav") demonstrates that Achashverosh's fear of insurrection explains much of what transpires in the Megila. The enormous celebration described towards the beginning of the Megila and Achashverosh's generous invitation to the entire population of the capital city was likely an effort by an insecure king to win the populace's favor. The assassination attempt by Bigtan and Teresh reveals a militant opposition group within the royal ranks themselves. Immediately thereafter the king appoints Haman second-in-command. The assassination attempt rattled Achashverosh's sense of security and prompted him to protect himself by appointing his main loyalist to a position of power. Haman persuades the king to order the Jews' annihilation by describing them as a people scattered among the empire who do not follow the traditional practices of the land (3:8). Having aroused Achashverosh's suspicion of this nation's alleged plans for revolt, Haman easily wins his consent to the plot.

Ester perceptively knew all this and realized that she could not possibly persuade the king to spare the Jews in his current state of mind. Haman had successfully programmed the paranoiac king's mind to suspect the Jews of insurrection; an appeal by the queen, no matter how impassioned or eloquent, would be of no avail. Instead, she stalled for time, waiting for a window of opportunity to open and shift the king's suspicion from the Jews onto Haman. This occurred on that fateful night when "sleep escaped the king" (6:1). Achashverosh was reminded of Mordekhai's loyalty to him, and perhaps became angry at Haman for not rewarding the informer and even plotting to destroy his entire nation. With Haman suffering humiliation and Mordekhai having earned the king's favor, Ester saw an opportunity and seized it. Now she could turn the tables and shift the king's suspicion away from her people and onto Haman.

The Rav adds in this context that in the post-prophetic era, when God speaks to us only indirectly, we must exercise clear, careful and sound judgment in determining modes of action that will determine the fate of our nation. Our national leaders are charged with the responsibility of "intuiting prophecy," if you will, to carefully consider all options and decide how the Almighty wishes them to carry out their mission which He has assigned them.

*****

At the outset of his Hilkhot Megila, the Rambam lists those who are included in the obligation of Megila reading. Among those specifically mentioned are geirim (converts). From the explicit mention of converts, it appears as though their inclusion in this obligation is not self evident from their identity as Jews. This also emerges from a verse towards the end of the Megila: "The Jews undertook and obligated themselves and their descendants and all who might join them… " (9:27). Rashi interprets "all who might join them" as a reference to future converts. Apparently, a separate, explicit provision was necessary when the mitzvot of Purim were instituted to include geirim in the relevant obligations. Why? Does not a convert become obligated in all mitzvot just like Jews from birth?

Rav Soloveichik (as quoted in Mesorah, vol. 8, pp. 9-10) suggested that the institution of Purim differs from other edicts of Chazal in that it began purely by force of custom. The Megila states explicitly that the observance of Purim began as a custom and only thereafter became institutionalized as a formal, binding obligation: "The Jews accordingly assumed as an obligation that which they had begun to practice… " (9:23). Therefore, one may have instinctively assumed that only those whose ancestors originally undertook these practices were bound by the subsequent, formal requirement - to the exclusion of converts.

We may add that unlike Chanukah, Purim celebrates our defeat over racial, rather than religious, persecution. Whereas the Greeks sought to destroy the Jewish religion, Haman decreed annihilation on those of Jewish ethnicity. It is commonly understood that for this reason we observe Purim through physical indulgence, whereas on Chanukah no obligation of festivity or merrymaking applies. Thus, without an explicit decree to the contrary, one may have intuitively excluded converts from the obligations of Purim. As they took on the religion but do not share the same ethnic origins, the Purim story may have no relevance to them. When establishing Purim, however, the Jews of the time issued an explicit provision including future converts in the celebration of Purim.

[For "extra credit": According to our suggestion, what may we learn about the nature of Purim from the fact that, in the end, geirim were in fact included in the mitzva?]

*****

The opening sections of Parashat Ki-Tisa present a few final details concerning the mishkan, including the "shemen ha-mishacha" - the anointing oil. The Or ha-Chayim notes that the section dealing with the shemen ha-mishcha features an unusual introduction: "And you shall take for yourself… " Apparently, the Or ha-Chayim claims, Moshe had to himself provide the ingredients for the anointing oil; it had to be made from his own property. Why was this necessary? What about the shemen ha-mishacha required that Moshe himself donate the materials for its production - something we do not find with regard to any of the other items in the mishkan?

As is the case regarding virtually every aspect of the mishkan, we must resort to the symbolism underlying the intricate details presented in these parshiyot. Rav Moshe Feinstein zt"l suggested that as the anointing oil consecrated Aharon and his sons as kohanim and the mishkan and its accessories for the sacred avoda (Temple service), it had to come from the highest, most sacred source. In order to infuse the kohanim and the mishkan and its contents with the required level of kedusha (sanctity), the oil must itself be of a certain sacred quality. It must therefore come from Moshe Rabbenu himself.

This process, Rav Moshe adds, symbolizes the "transfer of sanctity" that occurs in every generation from parent to child and from teacher to student. The greater level the parent or instructor has achieved, the better equipped he is to "consecrate" the next generation and prepare them for lives of holiness. A person in a position of influence must therefore ensure that he has, indeed, developed himself spiritually to the point where he can successfully convey to others the ideals and values he represents, thus forming a link in the golden chain of the mesora.

*****

As we discussed yesterday, the shemen ha-mishcha, the anointing oil introduced in Parashat Ki-Tisa, had to be of a certain, unique quality in order to fill its role of consecrating the kohanim and vessels of the mishkan. Not only, as the Or ha-Chayim claimed, did this oil have to come from Moshe himself, but, the Gemara in Keritut (5b) says, it was of a supernatural nature. Reminiscent of the menorah lighting after the Hamoneans' defeat of the Greeks, the original quantity of oil produced by Moshe for use in the mishkan was never depleted; the supply lasted throughout the period of the Bet ha-Mikdash and will be used again when the Temple is rebuilt.

Yesterday we assessed the symbolic significance of this unique quality; today we will discuss this issue from a strictly halakhic perspective. Later on that same page in MasKeritut, the Gemara tells that two extra drops of anointing oil were left on Aharon's beard he was anointed. Moshe and Aharon feared that the superfluous use of this sacred oil violated the prohibition of "me'ila" - misuse of sacred property. God reassured them that the prohibition does not apply to these two drops. The implication, however, is that generally, the me'ila prohibition indeed applies to the anointing oil; God made a special dispensation with regard to the two extra drops of oil poured on Aharon.

In light of the oil's supernatural quality, however, its inclusion under the me'ila prohibition poses a certain difficulty. The first mishna of the fifth chapter of Masekhet Me'ila (18a) cites a dispute among the tanna'im as to the type of "misuse" required to violate the me'ila prohibition. According to the accepted, majority view, a distinction is drawn between sacred objects that are used in a manner that necessarily diminishes its quantity - such as food - and other items, such as utensils, whose standard use has no quantitative impact. One who drinks from a glass belonging to the Temple treasury has violated the prohibition despite the fact that the treasury has incurred no loss as a result. Since people generally use glasses by drinking from them, an activity which does not diminish from its quantity, one violates the prohibition even without any loss being incurred. By contrast, one who smells fruit belonging to the treasury does not violate the prohibition: as fruit is normally used for consumption, one must therefore diminish its quantity somehow in order to be liable for me'ila. If so, then how could me'ila apply to the shemen ha-mishcha? Since oil is normally used in a manner that diminishes from its supply, while the shemen ha-mishcha was never depleted, the me'ila prohibition should not take effect with regard to this oil.

The simple answer, as suggested by Rav Yitzchak Rosenblat in his book, "Chedvat Yotzer," is that we must view the shemen ha-mishcha as a substance qualitatively different from ordinary oil. The shemen ha-mishcha, by its very essence, is not something ordinarily used in a manner that diminishes from its quantity. This might have been true if we viewed it simply as oil that miraculously is never depleted. But since it takes on an entirely new identity - "anointing oil" rather than "oil," it is, at its core, a substance that is not used in a manner that diminishes from its quantity. Therefore, one violates the prohibition of me'ila by misusing the anointing oil, even though no loss of oil occurs as a result.

*****

Parashat Ki-Tisa describes the "kiyor," the washing faucet situated just outside the mishkan from which the kohanim were to wash their hands and feet before entering to perform the service (30:17-21). These verses feature a subtle, textual peculiarity which may reveal a fundamental quality of faucet. When first introducing the kiyor, God says, "You shall make a copper faucet and its copper base for washing… " Throughout its discussion of the vessels of the mishkan, the Torah generally first introduces the appearance, composition and construction of the given item and only thereafter explains its function. (One notable exception might be the mizbach ha-ketoret - 30:1. Indeed, the Seforno here - 30:18 - draws an implicit association between it and the kiyor; compare his comments here with those to 30:1, and see the footnotes to the Seforno here in the Torat Chayim Chumash.) In this context, however, the Torah immediately associates the kiyor with its function - for the kohanim to wash in preparation for their service in the mishkan.

The Torah may be alluding to the fact that unlike the other vessels in the mishkan, the kiyor has no intrinsic value as a "keli sharet" (vessel used in the mishkan) beyond its specific purpose. The menorah and shulchan are important as components of the mishkan even if, for whatever reason, the candle lighting or baking of the show-bread cannot be performed. By contrast, perhaps, the inherent value of the kiyor with respect to the mishkan is confined to the specific requirement that the kohanim wash prior to their entry into the Tabernacle.

One comment of Rashi, however, in his commentary to Shemot 25:9, may imply otherwise. Rashi derives from that verse that the specifications outlined in these parshiyot concerning the construction of the mishkan and its accessories apply for all times. If at some later point another of the "keilim" is built, these guidelines must be followed. In listing the "keilim" included in this provision, Rashi includes the kiyor, along with the shulchan and menorah. Rav Mordechai Gifter (cited by his students in "Pirkei Torah") thus argues that the kiyor, too, is identified as one of the "kelei ha-mikdash."

Why, then, does our parasha focus on "le-rochtza" - the specific purpose served by the kiyor?

Rav Gifter explains that the kiyor's inclusion as an essential component of the mishkan reveals an important lesson concerning the relationship between means and ends in avodat Hashem. True, as the verse suggests, the intrinsic value of the kiyor is restricted to its specific function. However, this specific function - preparing the kohanim for their service - itself renders it an integral part of the mishkan. Judaism has always afforded intrinsic significance to the preparatory stages of mitzva performance, beyond the specific result intended. An attempt to reach a certain level is inherently meaningful even if that level is never attained; a genuine effort to understand a seemingly problematic idea in Torah is valuable even if the difficulty is never resolved. Just as the kohanim's had washing is viewed as a significant part of their service despite its function as but a preparation therefor, so is our sincere effort with regard to religious observance inherently meaningful regardless of the outcome.

This shiur is provided courtesy of the Virtual Beit Midrash, the premier source of online courses on Torah and Judaism - 14 different courses on all levels, for all backgrounds.

Make Jewish learning part of your week on a regular basis - enroll in the
Virtual Beit Midrash

Yeshivat Har Etzion
Alon Shvut, Israel, 90433
office@etzion.org.il