Orot Shalhevet - Tishrei 2019 | 5780 by shalhevethighschool

DEAR SHALHEVET COMMUNITY, RABBI DAVID BLOCK ASSOCIATE HEAD OF SCHOOL

WWW.SHALHEVET.ORG

Years ago, I heard a speaker utter words that have stuck with me since: “You are and will be the aggregate of your five closest friends.” Despite the hyperbole and individual identity challenges that this statement might ignore, the message is quite important. Simply stated, we are necessarily impacted – positively and negatively – by the people around us. It is this truth that guided Avraham’s spiritual journey; Chazal (Sages) explain that Avraham chose to stand on the “other side of the river,” away from the surrounding immorality (Bereishit Rabba, 41). This truth was also the impetus behind Rambam’s thunderous conviction that a person should go so far as caves and deserts to escape the company of bad neighbors (Hilchot De’ot 6:1). In a more positive analogy, Chazal note that when one walks out of a spice store, one necessarily carries out some of that aromatic scent (Pirkei D’Rebbi Eliezer 25). If you’ve ever walked through our halls and sat in our classrooms, you know of the world-class caliber of our Limudei Kodesh (Judaic Studies) faculty. Their Torah, scholarship, thoughtfulness, moral character, caring, sensitivity, and values permeate the halls, classrooms, and Batei Midrash of Shalhevet and the souls of our students. Every teacher radiates values of Modern Orthodoxy and Torah-true Judaism, but each with her/his own unique flavor and style. The teachers are our “Orot” – our beacons of light who illuminate the Torah’s depths and lessons. But our diversity of thought and shared value placed on Torah learning doesn’t stop with our faculty, of course. Our students and alumni have their unique Torah voices, as well. A flame is remarkable in its ability to share of itself, to light others on fire, ad infinitum. It is our students’ hearts and minds that are set ablaze by our faculty, and they, in turn, share their own personal Torah with others – as they do here, with you. They, too, are the true “Orot Shalhevet.” I’m thrilled to present this Tishrei edition of Orot Shalhevet. As always, the Torah inside is profound and inspiring, and the diversity of thought of the different Orot is stunning. As but one example: Inside, there are three essays about Hoshanah Rabbah – one penned by an alumnus, two others by teachers – and each approaches the topic with a unique perspective, prism, and flavor of talmud Torah (Torah learning). So, it is not only the Orot individually that are so remarkable, but all the Orot together that make up our dazzling Shalhevet (flame). It is a true zechus (privilege) to work with our incredible Limudei Kodesh faculty and to learn and grow with our amazing students and alumni. I would consider myself extraordinarily fortunate to become the “aggregate” of these bright Orot. I hope this edition of Orot Shalhevet helps to ignite your soul and add incredible meaning to your holidays – as it has mine. Best, Rabbi David Block

TABLE OF CONTENTS ‫שבת שובה‬

CLARA SANDLER

PAGE 7

‫ראש השנה‬

YOETZET HALACHA ATARA SEGAL

PAGE 3

‫שופר‬

JOSH GLETTNER

‫יונה‬

RABBI ARI SCHWARZBERG

PAGE 8

‫יום כיפור‬

DR. SHEILA KEITER

PAGE 5

‫תשובה‬

SHEYNA SCHUSTERMAN

PAGE 6

THANK YOU TO THE FOLLOWING SUPPORTERS WHO HAVE GENEROUSLY SPONSORED THIS EDITION OF OROT SHALHEVET. WE ARE GRATEFUL TO THEM FOR HELPING TO PROMOTE THE SPREAD OF MEANINGFUL TORAH LEARNING AND SPIRITUAL GROWTH IN OUR COMMUNITY. PLEASE ENJOY THE TORAH YOU WILL FIND WITHIN IN THEIR MERIT.

PAGE 10

‫סוכות‬

RAV YITZCHAK ETSHALOM

PAGE 14

‫אושפיזין‬

RABBI ABRAHAM LIEBERMAN PAGE 16

‫הושענא רבה‬ NOA SEGAL

PAGE 17

‫הושענא רבה‬

MS. ILANA WILNER

PAGE 19

‫הושענא רבה‬

RABBI DEREK GORMIN

PAGE 20

KAREN AND AVI ASHKENAZI RONIT AND JACK EDRY MICKEY AND HAIM KAHTAN BATSHEVA AND SHELDON KASDAN DANIELLE AND STEVE KUPFERMAN TAMAR AND HERTZEL MACHMALI SYLVIA AND TUCKER SANDLER TAALY AND ADAM SILBERSTEIN SUSIE AND FRED TOCZEK NAOMI WEISS AND RABBI ARI SCHWARZBERG

‫ראש השנה‬

REPENTANCE, REDEMPTION, AND THE THREAD OF CONNECTION YOETZET HALACHA ATARA SEGAL Y OETZ E T H AL AC H A ATAR A SEGAL I S PAR T OF T HE JU DAI C ST UD I ES L EADERS HI P T EAM , A M EMB ER OF LIMUD EI KOD E S H FACU LT Y , AND A DIR ECT OR OF ISR AEL GUI D ANC E AT SH ALHEV ET H IG H S C HOOL. ATAR A REC EI V ED H ER B A F ROM STER N C OLLEGE AN D C OM PLET ED H ER M. A. I N B I B LE AT THE B ERNARD R EVEL GRAD UAT E SCH OOL. S HE I S A CER TI F I ED P HY S I C S TE ACH ER, AND I S CER TI F I ED AS A Y OETZ E T H AL AC H A TH R O UGH N ISH MAT ' S R IG OROUS M I RI AM G LAU B AC H CEN TER.

The rhythm of the Jewish calendar is distinctive – Nisan is the season of freedom, Av is the time when we remember our exile, and Tishrei is designed for teshuva and personal reflection. The compartmentalization of these themes is so strong that certain activities are proscribed or required – we refrain from washing garments and celebrating marriages during the first part of Av, and we do not recite eulogies in Nisan. Because of this, I have always been struck by the way that the theme of redemption “bleeds through” to the davening of the Yamim Noraim. In the Mussaf Amidah of Rosh Hashanah, many of the pesukim quoted in the section of Shofarot connect the shofar to our ultimate redemption, and we even conclude the section with the plea of “‫תקע בשופר גדול לחרותנו‬,” asking God to blow the shofar signifying that our redemption has arrived. If our primary focus during the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is supposed to be strongly on personal teshuva, examining our personal deeds and improving them, why do we shift our attention to a collective, national eschatological yearning? A close reading of the haftarah for the second day of Rosh Hashanah (Yirmiyahu Chapter 31) reveals one particular approach to the connection between repentance and redemption. In it, we read the words of Yirmiyahu, the prophet who foresaw the destruction of the first Beit HaMikdash and the subsequent exile to Bavel. Despite much derision, scorn and even personal peril, he pleaded with the people to repent. Unfortunately, he ultimately saw his awful visions come to fruition and mourned with the people upon witnessing the destruction of the Temple and the Land. Throughout, he alternatively scolded, cajoled, and comforted the people to enable them to survive the exile and eventually return to Israel. The beginning of the haftarah sets the stage for the theme of redemption by invoking the flight from Egypt: “‫כה אמר ה' מצא חן במדבר עם שרידי חרב הלוך להרגיעו ישראל‬,” “So says Hashem: The people who had escaped the sword [of Egypt] found favor [from Hashem] in the desert; He went to give Israel their rest.” Yirmiyahu then references the way Miriam celebrated the crossing of Yam Suf with percussion instruments (31:3) in order to declare that these expressions of redemption will occur again: “‫עוד תעדי תפיך ויצאת במחול משחקים‬,” “Yet again shall you be adorned with your tambourines, and you shall go out dancing with the joyful.” After this introduction referencing Yetziat Mitzraim, Yirmiyahu then further describes the future salvation of the exiled nation in poignant terms (31:8-9): “‫ מזרה ישראל יקבצנו ושמרו כרועה עדרו‬...‫בבכי יבואו ובתחנונים אובילם‬,” “They will come with crying, and I will lead them with tachanunim (supplications)… the Scatterer of Israel will gather it [Israel] and will guard it as a shepherd guards his flock.” The scene then shifts to one of the most famous imageries in all of Tanakh (31:14-16): ‫”כה| אמר ה' קול ברמה נשמע נהי בכי תמרורים רחל מבכה על־בניה מאנה להנחם על־בניה כי‬ :‫ כה| אמר ה' מנעי קולך מבכי ועיניך מדמעה כי יש שכר לפעלתך נאם־ה' ושבו מארץ אויב‬:‫איננו‬ :‫ויש־תקוה לאחריתך נאם־ה' ושבו בנים לגבולם‬,” “So says Hashem: A voice is heard on high, crying and lamenting bitterly; it is Rachel weeping over her children, refusing to be comforted, for they are gone. So says Hashem: Refrain (your voice) from crying and your 3

eyes from shedding tears; for there is a reward for your deeds, said Hashem; and they shall return from the land of the enemy. And there is hope for your future, said Hashem; and the sons shall return to their borders. This passage focuses on another character, the maternal intercessor. Rachel, the mother who gave birth to two of the tribes, takes responsibility to intercede with Hashem to forgive her children in order to bring about the desired redemption discussed in the previous pesukim. Apparently, the Jewish people are not yet worthy for it, and they therefore continue to suffer in exile. According to a famous Midrash, it is Rachel’s crying that moves God to save the nation because she serves as a personal rebuke to God. If she could willingly allow and enable her beloved betrothed Yaakov to also marry her sister, certainly God can forgive the nation for betraying Him by worshiping idols. However, the imagery does not end here. After God reassures Rachel that He will forgive Bnei Yisrael, we learn the reason for this change of heart. It is not just due to the difficulty of the exile or the tears of our mother Rachel. Rather, God explains (31:18) that He heard the repentance of the tribe that descended from Rachel, Ephraim, who represents the entire people when he says: “‫כי אחרי שובי נחמתי ואחרי הודעי ספקתי על ירך‬,” “For after I turned, I changed my mind; and after I had been brought to know myself, I slapped my thigh.” This physical, perhaps visceral, action of “slapping the thigh” expresses how deeply Bnei Yisrael have recognized what they did wrong. In fact, anyone who has used the “face-palm” emoji ( ) instinctively understands this expression of regret. This recognition, ‫הכרה‬, along with confession of one’s sins is the first step towards teshuvah, as recorded by the Rambam (Hilchot Teshuva 1:1) and noted by the Radak here. The haftarah concludes with God’s reaction to hearing these words, which is to ask the following rhetorical question and then declare His intention to have mercy on Ephraim: “‫ אם ילד שעשועים? כי מדי דברי בו זכור‬,‫הבן יקיר לי אפרים‬ .'‫אזכרנו עוד על כן המו מעי לו רחם ארחמנו נאם ה‬,” “Is Ephraim my precious son, the child with whom I play? Every time I speak of him, I remember him. My insides churn for him; I will surely pity him.” I believe that this last verse contains the key to the connection between redemption and teshuvah. As mentioned above, in the previous pesukim, Ephraim takes the first step towards true repentance, “hakarat hacheit” – recognizing the sin. Without a true and honest admission that one has sinned, it is impossible to make lasting and profound changes. Once Ephraim does this, Hashem responds by explaining how He feels when he mentions Ephraim and when He thinks of him. The problem is though that in the flow of the perek, these verbs do not seem to make sense. Ephraim appears to be right there expressing his regret; if so, God should see Ephraim directly. Why, then, is God – who is omniscient and all-seeing – acting as if he is not able to interact directly with Ephraim? Hashem is, I believe, interacting with an exiled Ephraim. Of course God always knows what His people say and do. However, when the nation is in galut, we might feel functionally “invisible” to God. Not only do we feel the absence of God – He would feel the absence of the people. And it is this absence that causes Hashem to join us in spirit. As the Gemara in Megilla (29a) notes: “‫ בוא וראה כמה חביבין ישראל לפני הקב"ה שבכל מקום‬:‫תניא ר"ש בן יוחי אומר‬ ‫שגלו שכינה עמהן‬,” “It is taught that Rabbi Shimon ben Yochai says: Come and see how beloved Israel is before God, as in every place to which they have been exiled, the divine presence is with them.” Although we are exiled from the land, we maintain the connection to God. And that inspires not only our repentance, it triggers God’s forgiveness. It seems to me that one of the key messages of this haftarah is that redemption is the culmination of the teshuvah process not just because it is a “reward” for returning to God, but since it is a natural result of the collective teshuvah of the nation in exile. Teshuvah is an existential response to the absence of God. As the pasuk states in the passage above (31:17), "‫“ – "שמוע שמעתי אפרים מתנודד‬I surely heard that Ephraim is wandering,” and Ephraim therefore feels the loneliness inherent in the absence of the divine presence. Consequently, he reaches out to God and admits "‫יסרתני ואוסר‬," “you have caused me to suffer and I have suffered,” and then wishes to repent, as is clear from the final phrase of the pasuk: "‫"השבני ואשובה כי אתה ה' אלוקי‬, “Bring me back, and I will return, as You are Hashem my God.” Thus, when God redeems the people, He is not merely rewarding them for mending their ways. Rather, if the entire purpose of exile is for us to repent, then once we do, the entire raison d’etre of the exile no longer exists. God is then able to welcome the people back to His warm embrace, enabling Him to recognize and “see” us directly. May we merit to perform complete teshuvah and return to Hashem, thus leading Hashem to bring our complete redemption in the coming year! 4

THE CURIOUS SYMBOL OF THE SHOFAR JOSH GLETTNER JO SH GLET T NER IS CU R RENT LY A JU NIO R AT SH ALHEV ET HI GH SCH O OL, AND A M EMB ER OF SH ALHEV ET ’S B E I T MID RA S H PR OGRAM .

‫שופר‬

During the month of Elul, we are awakened by the sound of the shofar. As we finish Shacharis, the blower raises the horn triumphantly and lets out a cry. The shofar is the historic symbol of triumph of the nation of God, which was used most famously by Yehoshua in conquering Canaan. But on Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of the new year (which follows Elul), we blow the shofar no less than one hundred times. The Torah highlights the close connection of the shofar with Rosh Hashanah in its identification of the day as a Yom Teruah or Zichron Teruah. What is the significance of this sound at a time when our existence is in peril and we rest in the purgatory of judgment? The traditional meforshim explain the conundrum in various ways. Onkelos, for instance, translates the more neutral term “terua,” a blow, as “yavvet,” a loud cry of distress. Thus, the shofar is not just a cry of victory, as it is used in battle, but also a lament. This understanding explains the common practice of sounding one hundred blows on Rosh Hashanah, which the mefarshim note is based upon the one hundred cries of Sisera’s mother after her receiving the news of his death in battle. Just as she cried one hundred times for her son, so too we use the shofar to sound a similar type of cry before God on the Day of Judgment. In addition, Rashi explains that the term Zichron Teruah refers to a remembrance of Akeidas Yitzchak. Perhaps we can suggest that this could similarly refer to the cries of Sarah Imeinu upon hearing that her son was to be sacrificed as an offering, which would parallel the cries of Sisera’s mother for her son. The Rambam also addresses the issue in two separate statements in the Mishneh Torah. In Hilchos Chanukkah (3:6) he states that Hallel isn’t recited on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur “because they are days of repentance, fear and awe; not of extra happiness.” Rosh Hashanah is not meant to be a day primarily of joy, but of fear of justice. The shofar’s role within this fearful atmosphere is of utmost importance, as the Rambam makes clear in Hilchos Tshuva (3:4): “Even though the sounding of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah is a decree from God, it still contains a personal message: It is as if the shofar’s call is telling us: Awaken from your slumber! Examine your actions, return to your true selves, and remember your Creator.” According to the Rambam, the shofar’s role lies not in sounding a cry of triumph per se, but in waking us up from our mundane state to acknowledge the awesomeness of the day. It is a signal blast like the bugle of the cavalry, leading us forward in the service of God. But when we hear an alarm, we often ignore it and push it aside. To prevent this, the sad undertone of the shofar is designed to pierce us with meaning before we can press snooze. It allows the importance of the day to be absorbed deep within us so that we can better formulate a plan for repentance and return to God during the time of judgment. The sound of the shofar, then, serves multiple functions during Elul and on Rosh Hashanah, symbolizing both an alarm as well as a cry of distress, both of which are important elements of this time of year. So as we begin to settle in to the regular routine of a new year, let us make sure to allow the shofar blasts of Elul and Rosh Hashanah to penetrate our hearts, wake us up, and push us forward in our quest to serve God as best as we can!

‫תשובה‬

ASERET YIMEI TESHUVA AND THE ESER SEFIROT

The month of Tishrei is a pivotal month for the Jewish people. It begins with Rosh Hashanah, which introduces the new year, and then transitions into the more solemn holiday of Yom Kippur. In between these two holidays are the Aseret Yemei Teshuvah, the ten days during which we are meant to focus on repenting. The number ten is significant, since on a Kabbalistic level, that is the number of sefirot, the attributes (midot) through which God partially manifests Himself in this world. The sefirot consist of seven emotive midot and three intellectual midot. The emotive midot are kindness (chesed), strength (gevura), harmony (tiferet), perseverance (netzach), submission (hod), foundation (yesod), and royalty (malchut), while the intellectual midot include wisdom (chochmah), understanding (binah), and knowledge (da’at). The emotive midot tend to be attributes through which we can emulate God and put into action, while the intellectual midot take on a more Godly essence that can be understood as acknowledging and understanding the presence of God in the world. According to the Arizal, the ten-day period of aseret yemei teshuva corresponds to these ten sefirot and is an opportune time to internalize and develop them. When the gates of heaven are open and our prayers are being listened to more intently, we have a special opportunity to become in tune with the seven emotive and three intellectual characteristics within our soul. As we repent during this time, we focus on all of the wrongdoings for which we may have been responsible. Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Lubavitcher Rebbe, teaches in his Sefer HaTanya that with all of the mundane concerns and distractions that surround us every day, our Nefesh Habahamit, animalistic soul, tends to take control and we act solely based on our natural inclinations. Our focus during this time should be to try and elevate our Nefesh Ha’elokit, our divine soul, which tends to steer us in the right direction. We can allow our Nefesh Ha’elokit to be a guiding light for us by striving to put our God-based emotive and intellectual midot into action. We must remember that even when a person acts in a way that is unjust, their essence remains pure, and the ability to improve their actions is always present. Developing the characteristics represented by the ten sefirot during the ten days of repentance is one way of improving ourselves. By doing simple things such as being more attentive to others, which is a type of kindness (chesed), and using our wisdom, knowledge, and understanding in service of God, our final judgement can be changed for the better.

SHEYNA SCHUSTERMAN SHE Y NA S CHUSTE RMAN IS CURRE NTL Y A SE NIOR AT S HA L HE VE T HIG H S CH OOL , AND A ME MBE R OF S HA L HE VE T’ S BE IT MIDR ASH PROG RAM.

‫שבת שובה‬

SHABBAT SHUVA: MAKE THE MOST OF IT CLARA SANDLER CLAR A SAND LER I S A GR A UD AT E OF SH AL HEV ET ' S CLASS OF 2 0 1 9 , AN D I S C URRENT LY L EAR NI NG AT MIDR ES HET L IN DE NB AUM I N JER U S ALEM . S HE I S A R E C I P I ENT OF MAH ARAT ' S E M ER GI NG SCH OLARS AWARD .

The Aseret Yemei Teshuva – the ten days of repentance between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur – are an extremely underrated time of year. It is a time for reflection, slichot and self-improvement, and one with great potential for developing our relationship with God. Shabbat Shuva, the Shabbat that falls during this time period, is named for the first word of the special Haftarah read on this Shabbat, Shuva, literally translated to “return.” In the Haftarah,which focuses on repentance, the navi states that while the Jews made a mistake, God nevertheless showed mercy: “‫ארפא משובתם אהבם נדבה כי שב אפי ממנו‬,” “I will remedy their backsliding; I will love them freely, for My wrath has turned away from them” (Hoshea 14:5). The section from Yoel also speaks of repentance: “‫ויקנא ה׳ לארצו ויחמל על־עמו‬,” “And the Lord was zealous for His land, and He pitied His people” (Yoel 2:18). In Micah, the navi expresses the notion that Hashem forgives our sins in His mercy: ‫ ישוב‬.‫ל כמוך נשא עון ועבר על־פשע לשארית נחלתו לא־החזיק לעד אפו כי־חפץ חסד הוא‬-‫”מי־ א‬ ‫ירחמנו יכבש עונתינו ותשליך במצלות ים כל־חטאתם‬,” “Who is a God like You, Who forgives iniquity and passes over the transgression of the remnant of His heritage? He does not maintain His anger forever, for He desires loving-kindness. He shall return and grant us compassion; He shall hide our iniquities, and You shall cast into the depths of the sea all their sins” (Micah 7:18-19). Each of these three passages illustrate how God is merciful and kind. So often, we are intimidated by the concept of God. I’ll speak for myself; there are times in life where I have not done something out of fear of horrible punishment. Indeed, we have a commandment to fear God, and the yamim noraim often highlight that approach to our relationship with Hashem. But we also have a commandment to love Hashem. It is easy to love someone who is compassionate, kind and forgiving. The God described in this Haftarah is one that is loving, understanding and open-hearted. Perhaps the reason that the sages chose this reading as the Haftarah just when we're in the midst of receiving our judgment from Hashem, is to remind us that God will make choices carefully, kindly and with our best interests in mind. There are times in everyone’s lives when God tests us, when it feels like all hope is lost. This Haftarah reminds us that Hashem is reasonable and sympathetic and will also act mercifully towards us. During the Aseret Yemei Teshuva, we should take the time to reflect on the past year and self-improvement. We should consider our relationship with Hashem and see how we can grow in the coming year. By the time Yom Kippur arrives, we should be willing to return to Hashem and open our hearts to new mitzvot and to God, and He will, in turn, hopefully conduct Himself with mercy and forgive us for our sins, as the Haftarah teaches. In the finale of arguably the best television show in existence, The Office, Andy Bernard says, “I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you actually left them.” The Aseret Yemei Teshuva have the potential to be those good old days if we allow ourselves to open up to Hashem and to engage in introspection and contemplation. Do not let the good old days pass you by; take advantage of this opportunity to connect with a loving Hashem. And be sure to have a piece of good honey cake too. 7

‫יונה‬

YONAH: SHOULD A JUDGE BE MERCIFUL?

The opening statement of Rambam’s Mishneh Torah has fascinated me for years. Rather than beginning his legal treatise of Jewish law with a standard halakhic ruling, Rambam’s code of Jewish law begins (Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah 1:1) with a fundamental doctrine of religious existence: .‫יסוד היסודות ועמוד החכמות לידע שיש שם מצוי ראשון‬ The foundation of foundations and firmest pillar of all wisdom is to know that there is a First Being. For Rambam, ‫ שמירת המצוות‬is the mechanism that brings one towards knowing God, but it, in and of itself, is decidedly not the apex of religious life. Commenting on Rambam’s unique approach, Professor Moshe Halbertal explains that “The details of the commandments requiring or prohibiting various actions are not the purpose of religious existence; they are, rather, only the means that enable a man to fulfill his purpose as a knowing creature.” Perhaps intuitive to some, this is nevertheless a striking declaration about religious law. Halakha is a proxy to something greater. In a way, this conveys a similar message to that of the prophetic rebuke that we read on Yom Kippur morning where Isaiah scolds the Jewish people for checking the boxes of sacrificial worship while being morally complacent. Likewise, Rambam begins his treatise with a clear statement that godliness, not punctiliousness, is the pinnacle of Jewish existence. This approach is essential for Jewish living on a continual basis, but I find it to be especially relevant during the season of repentance. Technically speaking, the institution of teshuva is irrational: If a norm is violated and a response doesn’t follow, what weight does the expectation actually carry? If a person is forgiven by petitioning for mercy, doesn’t the entire system risk its credibility? I see this first hand with my own children. The minute I give in to their merciful appeals (which happens quite often) is the minute my words gradually lose their value (which also happens quite often). Similarly, the very existence of teshuva has the potential to undermine the dignity of halakha. In fact, it’s this very argument that animates Yonah’s accusation of God in the fourth chapter of Sefer Yonah, a story that is prominently featured in the Haftara of Yom Kippur afternoon. In a subversive twist, Yonah invokes the ‫ יג מדות‬against God. He accuses God of being overly merciful and benevolent, and ultimately unfair. Yonah desires a divine judge that governs rationally through the prism of truth and justice. Indeed, this is the promised theology of ‫ שכר ועונש‬repeated throughout the Torah, and for Yonah, mercy is a corrupt ingredient in the eyes of the law. While Yonah’s logic may be sound, his perspective fails to appreciate the fundamental difference between the way humans interact with the law and the way God perceives the purpose of law. This distinction is illustrated by the following Midrash, which brilliantly highlights the singular nature of God. They asked the Torah: “How is the sinner to be punished?” It replied, “Let him bring a sacrifice and he will be pardoned.” They asked the prophecy: “How is the sinner to 8

RABBI ARI SCHWARZBERG RABBI ARI S CHWARZBE RG IS THE F OUNDE R AND D I RECTOR OF THE SHAL HE VE T I NSTITUTE AND DE AN OF STUDE NTS AT S HA L HE VE T HIG H SCHOOL . HE RE CE IVE D HIS S EMIKHA FROM Y E SHIVA UN IVE RSITY AND HO LDS A MASTE RS O F T HE OL OG ICAL S T UDIE S FROM HA RV ARD DIVINITY SCHOOL .

be punished?” It replied, “The person who sins… he shall die” (Ezek. 18:4). They asked Wisdom: “How is the sinner to be punished?” It replied, “Misfortune pursues sinners” (Prov. 13:21). They asked the Holy One Blessed be He: “How is the sinner to be punished?” He replied, “Let him repent and I will accept it, as it is written: ‘Good and upright is the Lord…’ (Ps. 25:8).” In a remarkable literary move, the Midrash contrasts God with His own scriptures! Torah, Nevi’im, and Ketuvim represent the letter of the law where a violator is met with his/her corresponding consequences. God, however, desires redemption and change, and teshuva becomes the corrective measure for the sinner in place of the consequence. While the strict law of Scripture responds to sin with punishment, God, Himself responds with a demand for teshuva. According to the Midrash then, teshuva is a distinctive feature unique to God, and thus represents the divine response to sin. God, the Ultimate Judge, operates in a space beyond the law, where the letter of the law is sometimes sacrificed on the altar of human growth. It’s this very quality that makes God the Judge of all judges. This, I think, is Rambam’s intention in beginning with the recognition of Hashem at the outset of his Mishneh Torah. Halakha, mitzvot, and ritual shape the contours of our religious lives, but those commitments are insufficient on their own. The underlying principle of our legal system is to know, understand, and emulate God, and we mustn’t lose sight of that destination. To be sure, that’s no easy task, one that even the prophet Jonah struggled to fully grasp. For many of us the High Holiday period begins in the ‫בית דין של מטה‬, in the “Lower Court” where fear of judgement motivates our penitence. The High Holiday season forces us to address questions about our survival: Do your good deeds outweigh your bad ones? Are you innocent or guilty? Who will be rich and who will be poor? But if the High Holiday experience ends there, the religious experience of this season becomes a transactional one. That is Rambam’s concern about the nature of halakhic observance, as well – it can’t just be transactional! The power of the ‫ ימים נוראים‬is in its ability to elevate us from the ‫ בית דין של מטה‬towards the ‫בית דין של מעלה‬. Our work during this time period is not just to exonerate ourselves from judgement, but to emerge from the teshuva process feeling like we’re better people, with greater clarity about our ultimate purpose in this life. We are called upon to be godly people, and it’s the institution of teshuva that enables us to get there. So, while I wish each of you a year of good health and fortune, I also hope the new year brings about a renewed yearning to feel ever closer to the divine. ‫!שנה טובה‬

‫יום כיפור‬

YOM KIPPUR: DISCONNECTING TO RECONNECT

Neilah is the culmination of Yom Kippur, a unique prayer service reserved for a singular day of the year. It caps a full day of prayer and repentance that begins nearly twenty-four hours earlier. Similarly, Yom Kippur itself marks the conclusion of the ten-day period of repentance that begins with Rosh Hashanah. And, in turn, the High Holidays are the capstone of a month-long period of reflection and repentance that begins on Rosh Chodesh Elul. Thus, Neilah is comparable to the final few minutes of the championship game that will define whether our entire season was successful. Or is it? We often think of Neilah as our last chance. We have an hour left to make our last appeal to God to accept our offers of teshuvah, of repentance, before the gates of Heaven are locked. If we feel sorry enough, and if our prayers are uttered sufficiently sincerely, God will inalterably inscribe our names in the book of life. The urgency of the closing of the day is meant to drive us to contrition and return. Perhaps. Really, our repentance was supposed to be achieved during the month of Elul. As the Gemara states (b.Rosh Hashana 16b), our judgment is thought to be inscribed on Rosh Hashanah. So, God’s judgment was really passed down ten days prior. Neilah rather becomes a last-minute desperation appeal following judgment that follows an entire ten days of such pleading. One more time ought to do the trick, right? On the other hand, we might just as easily adopt the opposite attitude. If all our efforts up to this point have not convinced Heaven to alter the evil decree, there is precious little we can do to change God’s mind in this last hour. If so, what is the purpose of Neilah? If it is unlikely to affect our outcome, why bother pushing ourselves to the limit at the conclusion of an exhausting twenty-four fast? I would like to suggest another focus for Yom Kippur and Neilah. To do so, I want to share a Yom Kippur experience from the year I spent in Israel after high school several years ago. While the Israeli students went home for the holidays, my school took its foreign students to a moshav in the Judean Hills for aseret yimei teshuvah, the ten days of repentance. On this moshav, we spent most of our time harvesting grapes from the moshav’s vineyards. The workday was long, and the weather was hot, but we enjoyed the advantage of the vines’ shade and snacking on as many grapes as we pleased. Occasionally we found grapes that had dried on the vine – raisins! It is not so much the Yom Kippur on the moshav that sticks out in my memory as much as the day’s juxtaposition with the grape harvest. To this day, when the yamim noraim roll around, I remember that time on the moshav, and I have the involuntary consciousness that it is grape harvesting season. It is this consciousness of the natural world around us that alters my view of this time of year and offers an important lesson for Yom Kippur as well. We live in an age of connectivity. We are always connected to the internet, through Wi-Fi, through cellular networks, and through internet hotspots, if necessary. We have communication capabilities undreamed of by previous generations. We can send an instant message to friends on the opposite end of the globe and be annoyed if they don’t respond within seconds. We have access to news from pretty much everywhere, not to mention our 10

DR. SHEILA KEITER D R. S H E IL A KE ITE R TEACHE S J UDAIC STUDIE S AT S HA L HE VE T HIG H S CHO OL . SHE HAS A B .A. IN HISTORY F ROM UCL A, A J D F ROM HARVARD LA W SCHOOL , AND RECEI VE D HE R PHD I N JEW ISH STUDIE S FROM UCL A, WHE RE SHE TAUG HT IN THE D EPARTME NT OF N E AR E ASTE RN LA N GUAG E S AND CUL TURE S.

instant access to vast swaths of collective human knowledge. Yet we have never been so disconnected. Our online friendships substitute for real friendships. We ignore our children while staring at the devices glued to our palms. We are all too aware of the perils of our digital age, yet we persist. Our information age not only disconnects us from other people, but we are also disconnected from the very world in which we live, especially from the natural world of which I became keenly aware when harvesting grapes in Israel. Living in Southern California, we barely notice the seasons. We use air-conditioning to banish summer and central heating to ward off winter. From our houses to our cars we can travel in the rain and hardly get wet. Our food magically appears in the markets, and we buy it and eat it with only the vaguest of considerations for the fact that this food was produced on a farm somewhere. Except in the rare natural disaster (the recent earthquakes come to mind), the worst peril we might face from nature is the tragedy of a mosquito bite or a harrowing encounter with a spider in the bathroom. We are also disconnected from our past. Last year, I struggled to instruct my Tanakh class what a yoke was. We were discussing a reference to ‫עול תורה ומצוות‬, “the yoke of Torah and the commandments,” and I drew a picture of an ox wearing a collar to demonstrate what a yoke looked like. And yet, they were still baffled. Even once I conveyed the purpose behind the concept, they were puzzled as to why such information was relevant. No one uses oxen or yokes anymore, so who cares? And who can blame them? We have been living in a post-agrarian society for a mere 150 years, a veritable blink of an eye in human history, yet our society is so quick to dismiss all that preceded it. But perhaps the worst disconnect from which we suffer is the disconnect from God. Religion as a whole is in severe decline in the West. Religion is mocked as retrograde, the faithful as backwards rejecters of science clinging to myths and superstition. For Jews, our success in secular society has trained us to keep our faith to ourselves. But even among ourselves within the modern Orthodox world, there is too often a sense that professing a love of God are somehow unsophisticated. Let’s discuss halakhah, philosophy, history, or Tanakh as literature. But expressions of ahavat Hashem, love of God, are best left for the Hasidim. Yom Kippur is our chance to change all that. The gates are open wide. Think of those gates not as gates that are about to close on our final appeals for forgiveness. Rather, think of them as the gates that are opened wide, allowing us to connect with our Creator in ways that are impossible the rest of the year. All of Yom Kippur, those gates remain open. Use that time to reconnect with Him. Don’t be afraid to make that connection, genuinely and completely. The heavenly Wi-Fi is never stronger than it is on Yom Kippur, and the network is secure. I would like to share one final thought. The traditions and liturgy over the long period from Elul until Shemini Atzeret change as the period progresses: Shofar blowing, Selichot, the symbols of Rosh Hashanah for a sweet New Year, fasting on Yom Kippur, and then the shift to celebration as we enter Sukkot, while still reciting hoshanot, praying for God’s salvation. But there is one liturgical practice that remains constant throughout this entire period, the recitation of Psalm 27, ‫לדוד ה' אורי‬. It begins on Rosh Chodesh Elul and does not end until Shemini Atzeret. I have always been fascinated by this practice, for nowhere in the psalm does it mention teshuva. Rather, the psalm is a rousing expression of faith in God. I need not fear any enemy, for God is with me. The psalmist’s most cherished wish is to sit in God’s house and bask in His beauty. His greatest fear is being forsaken by God. The psalmist is in love with God and cannot stand the thought of being apart. This psalm, expressing the longing for connection for God, is the touchstone for the entire season. Yom Kippur is our opportunity to sit in the House of Hashem and bask in His glorious beauty. Make the most of it. Make the connection.

‫סוכות‬

CELEBRATING THE PAST, ANTICIPATING THE FUTURE

As Jews, we live in a state of perpetual memory. Every week we celebrate creation, the Exodus and the Revelation at Sinai. On Purim, we relive God’s salvation of His people as if we were right there, in 5th century BCE Persia. On Tishah b’Av, we sit on the ground, mourning the loss of Jerusalem as if it had just happened to us. The granddaddy of all “living memory” is the Pesach Seder, when we declare that every person is obligated to view himself as if he - himself! - had just been redeemed. Although we are tempted to think of Rosh haShanah and Yom haKippurim in different terms – as essentially focused upon the coming year – the liturgy of these days, known as the “High Holidays” indicates that they too are celebrations of the past, albeit in a different vein. Rosh haShanah is celebrated as the day of creation, with an additional evocation of the salvation of Noach, the Shofar sounded at Sinai, and Akedat Yitzhak. Similarly, one of the central motifs in our Yom Kippur davening is the Seder Avodah, where we retell, in exacting detail, the Kohen Gadol’s service on that day. Unlike Rosh haShanah and Yom haKippurim, Sukkot seems to be an automatic candidate for “commemorative festival”. The Torah tells us that we are commanded to live in the Sukkah “in order that your generations shall know that I caused you to dwell in Sukkot as I took you out of Egypt…” Whether we understand this reference to “Sukkot” as referring to huts, clouds of protection or the town of Sukkot – all proposals made in our traditional literature – it seems to be about an event in our past. Yet a careful look at Sukkot, in the Torah, in our liturgy, and as it is practiced, reveals a more textured and nuanced celebration. We start with the Torah. An area of Torah legislation that we instinctively avoid considering as relevant is the order of offerings to be brought in the Mikdash. These offerings have not been practiced in almost 2000 years, and we have a tendency to elide these sections of Vayyikra and Bamidbar in our study. However, moot though the offerings may be in practice, they bear the gravitas of Devar Hashem. The laws of Korbanot have great import, if not for what they direct us to do, then for the messages that they convey. The Gemara, for instance, derives the laws of which days one is obligated to recite Hallel based on the nature of the offering brought on that day. With regard to Sukkot as well, the particular offerings brought may be significant in understanding the significance of the holiday. On most festivals, the Torah commands us to bring one or two bulls, one ram, and seven lambs. On Sukkot, however, the Torah commands us to bring a greater number of bulls (beginning with thirteen and reducing by one each day; this unusual sequence is a study in and of itself), two rams, and fourteen lambs – in other words, besides the inordinate amount of bulls, twice as many rams and lambs as usual. What is the Torah communicating with this doubling? The other primary focus of the Torah with regard to each of the holidays concerns one specific Mitzvah that defines it. Pesach has Matza, Rosh haShanah has Shofar, Yom Kippur has Vidui – but Sukkot seems to have two equally vital rituals – Sukkah and Lulav. Again – doubling. Our liturgy also seems to express mixed (and double) messages about Sukkot. Whereas the mood of Pesach is completely festive and that of Rosh haShanah and Yom haKippurim is both somber and reflective, Sukkot is at once joyous yet pensive. The holiday is called, in our 14

RAV YITZCHAK ETSHALOM RAV Y ITZCHAK ES TH AL OM IS THE ROSH BE IT MIDR ASH A T SHAL HE VE T HIG H SCHOOL . RAV E TSHAL OM DIRE CTS THE TAN ACH MASTE RS P RO GR AM AT Y UL A BOY S’ HIG H S CHOOL , G IVE S SHIU R IM THRO U G HOUT THE CI TY, IS A RE G UL AR CO N T RIBUTOR TO YE SHIVAT HAR ETZION'S VIRTUAL BEIT MIDR ASH, AND I S A PUBL ISHE D AUTHOR ON T ANAKH ME THODOL OG Y AND RABBINIC LI T E RATURE . HE ATTE NDE D Y ESHIVAT KE R E M B'YAVNE , RABBI I S AAC E L HANAN T HE OL OG ICAL S EMINARY , AND YE SHIVAT HAR ETZ IO N BE FORE RECEI VING SE MICHA F ROM THE CHIE F RABBINATE OF Y E R U SHAL AYIM.

Kiddush and Tefillah, Zeman Simhateinu, the time of our rejoicing. Yet, the single word that is said more than any other over these seven days is Hoshanah – “save us now.” This desperate cry for salvation is an expression of anxiety and trepidation – hardly reflective of Zeman Simhateinu. Why is Sukkot the “double” holiday and a “Janus (two-faced)” holiday to boot? The answer relates to the fact that our nation is, at its root, anchored to our Land. Our calendar is an agricultural one and our most festive days are essentially related to planting and reaping. It is hard for most of us, urban and post-industrial people, to relate to this – but even a cursory look at the Torah bears this out. The festival of Pesach corresponds to the beginning of the harvest period (hence the Omer of barley brought on the second day of Pesach), Shavuot corresponds to the beginning of the more significant wheat harvest (hence the two wheat loaves brought to the Mikdash as part of the offering for Shavuot), and Sukkot is the harvest festival that corresponds to the conclusion of the harvest period, where we rejoice with God’s blessings realized during the summer harvest. On Sukkot, we not only live in farmers’ huts (Sukkot), but also decorate them with symbols of the bounty (the Gemara describes using fresh, edible foods as Sukkah decorations). Yet when the Torah defines Sukkot, it refers to it as taking place biTekufat haShanah – literally “at the turn of the year.” The end of one harvest season, a time for celebrating, is at the same time the beginning of the next planting season, a time for concern about next year’s bounty. This becomes most prominent in the rain-dependent clime of Eretz Yisrael; if it rains during the key late fall and early winter months – we are nearly assured of plenty. If, on the other hand, the rains do not come (we Californians know what that’s like!) then we run the very real risk of financial ruin and famine. Sukkot is truly at the “bend of the year”, the end of a successful and blessed (we hope) season but the beginning of the next one. For this reason, the Torah provides us with two central Mitzvot to fulfill on Sukkot, each of which reflects one of these themes. When we dwell in the Sukkah, we are surrounded by the bounty of the past year. At the same time, we take four species that represent the four climes of Eretz Yisrael (Lulav: desert, Hadas: mountains, Aravah: coastal plains and the Jordan valley, and Etrog: lowlands).1 We shake them in six directions before and during the recitation of Hallel to invoke God’s blessing for a nourishing winter and healthy amounts of rain, and we also punctuate these requests, made during the recitation of Hoshanot, with the refrain “save us” (Hoshana). The reason for this is that we recognize that without God’s blessing, all of this plenty that surrounds us could quickly become a wistful memory and a tragic piece of nostalgia. The offerings on Sukkot are doubled because Sukkot is indeed a “double-holiday”. As one of the three harvest festivals, it is a time of celebration - the Matza of Pesach is the Sukkah of Sukkot. Yet as part of the Rosh haShanah-Yom haKippurim-Sukkot continuum, it is a time of reflection and anxiety about the coming year. This anxiety could be debilitating were the Torah not to direct us to simultaneously celebrate and know that if our celebration is marked by a true sense of gratitude to the Ribbono Shel Olam for all of the great gifts with which He has blessed us, we will have another blessed year. At this time of taking stock of all the beautiful berakhot of this past year, we ought to remind ourselves of the source of those blessings – the Creator – and beseech Him, for our families, for our community, for all of Klal Yisrael, and for the world around us, to bless us with a healthy, prosperous year of peace.

1 For a more detailed discussion of this idea, see Zohar Amar, Arba’at HaMinim (Heb.), Tel Aviv 5770.

‫אושפיזין‬

THE ORIGIN OF USHPIZIN: GUIDANCE FROM GUESTS

One of the most famous and beloved customs of Sukkot is the custom of Ushpizin, where we invite a different illustrious guest from the past each night of the holiday (Avraham Avinu, Yitzchak, Yaakov, etc.) into the Sukkah. This custom is an extremely well-known one — the formulation recited to extend this invitation is printed in every machzor, Sefardi and Ashkenazi alike, and is also found on many posters designed to be hung up in the Sukkah. Yet one does not find any mention of it in the Shulchan Aruch (Code of Jewish Law) or even in the commentary of the Mishnah Berurah. In fact, even the etymology of the word ‫ אושפיזין‬is unclear and subject to controversy. At some point, the word took on the meaning of host, hospitality or an inn, as seen in Talmudic sources (Yoma 12a; Megillah 26a), and in this context is used to refer to the guests that we host. So what is the origin of this interesting custom? Quite surprisingly, this minhag is entirely a Kabbalistic novelty. It is first mentioned in the Zohar (Emor 3:103b), which requires that an oral invitation must be recited each night upon entering the Sukkah in order to invite the special guest of that night (first night Avraham Avinu, second night Yitzchak etc.). The Zohar then connects the custom of Ushpizin to inviting the poor and needy into one’s Sukkah. In fact, the Zohar states that if one does not entertain the poor as his guests as well, his Ushpizin for that night will exit the Sukkah. Inviting the Ushpizin orally is first mentioned as a standard practice in a halachic compendium entitled ‫ יש שכר‬published by Rabbi Issachar Ber of Kremitz in 1609, which contained Kabbalistic rulings of the Arizal (R. Isaac Luria, 1534-1572). From there, the custom spread, initially primarily in Kabbalistic circles, and later even more so in the Hasidic movement, where it become a most beloved minhag of the holiday of Sukkot. It has now become part of Sukkot in much of the non-Hasidic Jewish world as well. In addition, it has also led to further customs that have been adopted by some together with welcoming the Ushpizin. For example, in many homes, a special chair is designated for the Ushpizin in the Sukkah. The most common order of the Ushpizin is as follows: Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, Moshe, Aharon, Yosef, and David. Although chronologically Moshe follows Yosef, the above order placing Yosef after Moshe and Aharon is used for Kabbalistic reasons. Others though do in fact follow the chronological order and place Yosef immediately following Yaakov. Much has been written concerning the significance of this order and the importance of each of the Ushpizin being welcomed on their proper night. In this vein, a beautiful educational practice could be to learn each night about the midot of that night’s particular guest, for example to speak about the importance of chesed, the trait of Avraham, on the first night, the importance of gevurah, the trait of Yitzchak, on the second night, and so on. Just as on Sukkot we leave the permanence of our homes and erect a temporary Sukkah as our dwelling place, accompanied each day by one of the illustrious role models of Jewish history, so too in our temporary journey through life, we should be guided by the lessons learned from our Ushpizin.

RABBI ABRAHAM LIEBERMAN RA BBI ABRAHAM LI EBE RMAN IS A MEMBE R OF THE LIMU DE I KO DE SH FACUL TY AT S HA LHE VE T HIG H SCHOOL . HE PRE VIOUSL Y S ERVE D AS THE HEA D OF SCHOOL A T Y UL A G IRL S HIG H SCHOOL . RA B BI L IE BE RMAN L E ARNE D AT Y E SHIVA UN IVE RSITY AND RECI E VE D SE MIKHA FROM E ME K HAL AKHA IN B ROOKL Y N. HE RECI EVE D HIS M.A. I N JEWISH HISTORY FROM THE B ERNARD RE VE L GRA D U ATE SCHOOL ( YU) , WHE RE HE IS CURRE NTL Y WORKING T OWARDS HIS DOCTORATE .

‫הושענא רבה‬

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE ARAVA NOA SEGAL NOA S EGAL I S A GR ADUAT E OF SH ALHEV ET ' S CL ASS OF 2 0 1 8 . AFTE R GR ADUAT I NG, NOA LEAR NED I N MIGD AL OZ I N GU S H ETZION AND HAS SU BSEQUENT LY M ADE AL I YA T O LI V E IN TH E ST AT E OF ISR AE L. S HE I S CU R R ENT LY SE R VIN G I N S H ERU T LE'UM I AS A GUI D E ON HA R H ERZL .

One of the primary customs of Hoshana Rabbah, the last day of Sukkot, involves the taking of the aravot (willow leaves) exclusively, which during the rest of Sukkot are only taken together with the other four species. What is the reason that all of Klal Yisrael performs this ceremony, sometimes known as Hoshanot, on Hoshana Rabbah? It seems from the Gemara (Sukkah 44a) that it is performed as a zecher lamikdash, a commemoration for the practices performed in the Beit HaMikdash. But what did that practice look like when it was done two thousand years ago, and how does that affect our practice today? The Mishna (Sukkah 45a) states that the aravot were placed leaning against the mizbeach, which is agreed to by all opinions, and that the mizbeach was encircled. The Gemara (Sukkah 43b) though notes that Amoraim dispute whether the aravot alone were taken in hand when encircling the mizbeach or whether all of the four species were held together while encircling the mizbeach. In addition, Rashi and Rambam disagree as to the exact order of the ceremony in the Beit HaMikdash. According to Rashi (43b s.v. v’hevium hakohanim), the aravot were taken in hand and shaken like we shake the arba minim nowadays. The aravot were then paraded around the mizbeach and finally leaned against the mizbeach. According to Rambam (Hilchot Lulav 7:21-22), the aravot were first leaned against the mizbeach and then taken in hand and struck (as opposed to shaken). The machloket as to whether the aravot are shaken or struck stems from the terms “chavata” and chibut arava used in the Gemara (43b, 44b), which can either mean to shake or to strike. According to Rashi (mentioned above), it means they are shaken, while Rambam (also mentioned above) and Rabbeinu Manoach hold that they are struck. The Rema (O.C. 664:4) suggests combining both opinions together by shaking the aravot first and then striking them. Many adopt the Aruch Hashulchan’s suggestion of shaking them lightly and then striking them. Another fascinating machloket discussed in the Gemara (Sukkah 44a) concerns the question of who actually performed the practice in the Beit HaMikdash. Reish Lakish holds that even kohanim with blemishes (baalei mumin) were allowed to enter the Mikdash to perform the hakafot. On the other hand, Rabbi Yochanan refutes this and holds that only unblemished kohanim were allowed to perform the service. With regard to this machloket, there is also a machloket rishonim about the implications of the inclusion of kohanim baalei mumin. Rashi and Tosfot hold that the fact that the argument is entirely within the context of kohanim, one may infer that the mitzvah of arava in the Beit HaMikdash did not extend to the rest of the Jewish people who were not kohanim. The Or Zarua though holds that the subject of kohanim baalei mumin is in fact a paradigm that can be applied to yisraelim (non-kohanim) as well. Therefore, according to the Or Zarua, Rabbi Yochanan and Reish Lakish disagree as well as to whether only kohanim may perform the mitzvah or whether all of Am Yisrael may do so as well. This dispute among the Rishonim as to who performed the mitzvah in the Mikdash may also impact upon the understanding of the essence of our practice of taking the aravot on Hoshana Rabbah nowadays. In order to explain this, we must first understand that in halakha, there are two types of “zecher”s, or commemorations (as we will see, one is not 17

really a reminder of what was done but rather an extension of it). One type of “zecher” is that of Birkat Kohanim. This practice, which is considered a mitzvah de’oraita even nowadays (see Rambam, Sefer Hamitzvot 26; Ramban, Bamidbar 8:2; Beur Halacha, beginning of O.C. 128), is in reality less of a “zecher” and more of a maaseh that replicates the same action that was performed in the Beit HaMikdash. Being that the purpose of this “zecher” is continuity, the ritual we practice today is very similar to that practiced in the Mikdash. The second type of zecher includes mitzvot such as Netilat Yadyim before eating bread. This is a symbolic zecher performed by all of Klal Yisrael in order to remind ourselves of what was done in the Beit HaMikdash. In the case of Netilat Yadayim, while today we all wash our hands before eating bread, in the Beit Hamikdash only the kohanim did so before eating some of the priestly gifts. Nevertheless, it was instituted on a national level to ensure that we do not forget the ritual. So too, other cases of this type of zecher serve to commemorate the practice but not necessarily to replicate it exactly. This brings us back to the topic of aravot. Which type of zecher is the practice of hoshanot that we do today? Based on Rashi and Tosfot, who believe that only the kohanim performed the hakafot, our hoshanot today where everyone participates are the latter kind – a commemoration of what once was. It is reminiscent of the ritual but does not reenact it (though see Rashi on 43b, s.v. ha’idna). On the other hand, if we hold like the Or Zarua, the hoshanot take on a totally different flavor. Because the Or Zarua holds that all of Bnei Yisrael performed the avodah with the aravot, our hoshanot on Hoshana Rabbah today, which includes even non-kohanim, are in fact a continuation and replication of the original practice. Whichever approach is taken concerning Hoshana Rabbah specifically, we see that there are two methods for connecting ourselves nowadays to the Beit HaMikdash. One approach is to commemorate the action or practice that was performed there, even if the manner it is done today is not exactly the same, in a way that reminds us of the mitzvah and maintains our connection with it as much as possible. The other is to literally maintain the exact practice of our forefathers in the Mikdash. Both methods are vital to preserving our connection to the Beit HaMikdash. Let us hope that in the merit of our ceremony with the aravot on Hoshana Rabbah as well as our other practices that commemorate the Mikdash, we will be able to practice the ceremonies in the rebuilt Beit Mikdash, speedily in our time.

‫הושענא רבה‬ BREAKING BARRIERS: THE TRANSITION OF HOSHANA RABBAH MS. ILANA WILNER MS. ILANA WILNER IS THE DIRECTOR OF STUDENT ACTIVITIES AND A LIMUDEI KODESH TEACHER AT SHALHEVET HIGH SCHOOL. ILANA HAS A MASTERS IN BIBLICAL AND TALMUDIC INTERPRETATION FROM YESHIVA UNIVERSITY’S GRADUATE PROGRAM FOR ADVANCED TALMUDIC STUDIES (GPATS) , AS WELL AS A MASTERS DEGREE IN EDUCATION FROM AZRIELI SCHOOL OF EDUCATION AND ADMINISTRATION.

Of all the holidays on the Jewish calendar, Sukkot is probably the hardest one to explain to non-Jewish coworkers, neighbors and friends. And of all the Sukkot rituals, perhaps the most baffling is our annual Hoshana Rabbah ceremony, often lamented as the longest weekday davening of the year, in which we circle the bimah seven times with our aravot in hand. Many see Hoshana Rabbah as a day of transition out of Sukkot and the Yamim Noraim. I’d like to offer a renewed understanding of Hoshana Rabbah seeing it not as simply a transition out of the chag; but rather as preparation for the start of the new year. This perspective doesn’t just come from my positive outlook on life, but rather from the Hoshana Rabbah ritual itself. The Talmud describes how in the times of the Beit HaMikdash, the priests would circle the mizbeach once on each day of Sukkot with their aravot (or some say all four species) in hand, and then on the seventh day they would circle the mizbeach seven times in this manner with shofar in hand. This ritual evokes the memory of the Jewish people circling the walls of the city of Yericho before conquering it when they first entered Eretz Yisrael. They circled it for six days, and on the seventh day, they simultaneously blew the shofar while circling, after which the walls of the city came crumbling down. This experience symbolized the beginning of the new life of the Jewish people. Before they entered Eretz Yisrael, the Jews lived in the desert and were dependent upon God for food, drink and safety. Following their entry, they needed to be independent from God – fighting their own wars, growing their own food. Bnei Yisrael were no longer nomads, but a settled nation in their homeland. The comparison to Yericho reminds us to see something in the Hoshana Rabbah ritual that may often go unseen: the walls themselves. Sometimes what we take away is as important as what we build. We all have a natural inclination for planning and determining how something is supposed to look when building it: We envision in our heads what the design should be, there are instruction manuals, and we know that the construction itself is a process. However, there is usually little forethought and planning involved in disassembling. Ikea doesn’t give us instructions on how to take items apart. Yet, taking down the walls of the sukkah is an important act in and of itself. I believe that hakafot on Hoshana Rabbah prepare us for the act of disassembling the Sukkah, a first step in heading into the new year. The Hoshana Rabbah ceremony of circling the bimah/mizbeach seven times helps ready us to take down our Sukkah when the chag is over. Indeed, the Halahkha states that one is not allowed to take down the Sukkah until after Hoshana Rabbah. The parallel to the story of Yericho helps illustrate the proper kavannah we should have during Hoshana Rabbah Hakafot by focussing us on taking down the sukkah walls in preparation for the coming year. It teaches us that our walls and boundaries, like the sukkah walls, aren’t as permanent or impermeable as they may seem. The circling prepares us to take down those walls, both the literal Sukkah walls as well as the metaphorical boundaries, to view and experience the world, and ensure that it is open to us and no longer closed off, and raise our consciousness to what is ahead and what is possible if we break down our walls. 19

‫הושענא רבה‬

HOSHANA RABBAH: A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH

Tishrei is arguably the most exciting month on the Jewish calendar. We quickly move from one glorious day to the next, jumping from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur to Succot and to Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah, and there is hardly room for pause. There is, however, yet another exciting date on our epic list of celebrations that we must not forget. Often even the most affiliated and observant Jews among us may not be phased by this incredible day. Usual observance of this day may consist of a certain baseline recognition in order to fulfill any halachic obligations, which can become simply a few extras points on the “morning to-do list,” before quickly moving on to the preparations and activities of the other days, as their names flash in bright lights above. Of course, we are speaking of the incomparable day of Hoshana Rabbah. While exploring this topic, I took a very informal poll, asking twenty different high school students and adults alike, each of whom identify as “very active” in an observant community, the simple of question of, “what can you tell me about Hoshana Rabbah?” The majority of answers were not answers at all. I received some blank stares, a few lines referencing “hitting bundles of leaves on the floor,” and two responses consisting of the responder referencing “Kabbalah.” When these last two responders were questioned further, they couldn’t recall any of the mystical teachings that they referenced. The bottom line is that Hoshana Rabbah is a day that we as a community owe it to ourselves to explore further. Starting at the Top, What is Hoshana Rabbah? The Talmud (Rosh Hashana 16a) informs us that the holiday of Succot is when God judges us with regard to determining how much rainfall will be received. Hoshana Rabbah is the final day of Succot, making it the final day of this judgment. It is for this reason that the Mishna and Talmud (Succah 43b-45a) describe an elaborate ritual performed on Hoshana Rabbah with the “hoshanot,” the willow leaves, in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, as well as how, when and where the ceremony is done. That practice is mirrored in our custom today, where on Hoshana Rabbah, we joyously circle the Bima seven times (as opposed to the other days of Succot, where the congregation circles the Bima in shul once). Typically, our circling on Hoshana Rabbah is done with an open ark, and many Torahs are removed for the occasion. In addition to this ceremony of circling seven times, Rabbi Shlomo Ganzfried in his Kitzur Shulchan Aruch (Siman 138) writes that on Hoshana Rabbah, it is customary to stay awake all night learning Torah, referred to as the “tikkun leil Hoshana Rabbah.” This special learning is called a “tikkun” or “ultimate soul fix” because on Succot we are judged with regard to water, upon which human life depends, and the power of Torah learning can help to “fix” our judgment on High. Rabbi Ganzfried continues to state that Hoshana Rabbah is the last day of Succot, and quotes the Talmud (Brachot 12) that “hakol holech achar hachatima,” “everything depends upon the conclusion.” Because Hoshana Rabbah is the conclusion of the holiday of judgment for water, it stands to reason that if we have an extremely powerful Hoshana Rabbah, we may have a fighting chance for a better judgment in the coming year (at least concerning water). Our year can really be affected by our observance and celebration of Hoshana Rabbah! 20

RABBI DEREK GORMIN RA B BI G ORMIN IS PART OF THE LIMU DE I KO DE SH FACUL TY AT S HA LHE VE T HIG H S CHOOL , WHE RE HE TE ACHE S TAL MU D, J E WISH PHIL OSOPHY , CH ASSIDU T , AND TEFIL A (PRAY E R). WHEN NOT INSIDE THE HOL Y WAL L S O F SHAL HE VE T, RA B BI G ORMIN IS THE RE G IONAL D I RECTOR OF WE ST CO A S T NCSY . RABBI D E RE K G ORMIN S TUD I E D POL ITICAL S CIE NCE , MUSIC A N D S OCIOL OG Y AT THE UNIVE RSITY OF CAL IFORNIA, IRVINE , AND RE CE IVE D A CERTIFICATE OF I N TE RNATIONAL P OL ITICS FROM YO N S EI UNIVE RSITY I N S E OUL , KORE A. UPON GRADUATION, DE RE K WAS B LES S ED TO SPE ND TI ME DIVING INTO THE D EPTHS OF HIS JEWI SH HE RITAG E IN VARIOUS YE SHIVO T IN J E RUSAL E M.

The second dimension of significance of Hoshana Rabbah (in addition to the judgment for water) pertains to the judgment process of each individual that began on Rosh Hashana and extended through Yom Kippur. The Talmud tells us (Rosh Hashana 16b) that Rosh Hashana is the day when the Almighty writes in three “books”: Tzadikim, the righteous, are written in the book of life, the Reshaim, evil individuals, are written in the opposite book, God forbid, and the Beinonim, the middle group, which includes most people, are written in the third book. The Gemara then informs us that for the Beinonim, the “sealing” of the book takes place on Yom Kippur, giving us “regular folk” what we refer to as the “Ten Days of Repentance” between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur to make changes. This sentiment is echoed in the chilling prayer recited during the Yomim Noraim entitled Unetaneh Tokeif, where it states, “On Rosh Hashana it [the judgment] is written, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed.” With that in mind, picture the process of a book being published. The book is first written, then printed, and subsequently ready for sale. Just before the books are shipped out, the publisher decides to add a “publisher’s note” in the front cover, which frames and shapes the entire book for any potential reader, and arranges to do so. This “publisher’s note” is what takes place on Hoshana Rabba as well with regard to our judgment. Although the verdict has already been issued on Yom Kippur, Hashem adds the additional note on Hoshana Rabba that can influence how the decree written in the book is implemented during the year. Given this understanding, we can appreciate the power and potential influence that this holy day provides us to beseech the Master of the world to add that publisher’s note. We can also now understand another prevalent custom of the day. Many have the custom on Hoshana Rabbah to wish our fellow Jews the blessing of a “pitka tava” (Aramaic) or a “gutten kvittel” (Yiddish), both meaning “a good note.” These two words send a blessing to the recipient that in addition to being inscribed in the book of life on Rosh Hashana and sealed in the book of life on Yom Kippur, they should also receive a stellar publisher’s note in the front of the book, from the ultimate publisher, God. Rebbe Nachman of Breslov adds a third perspective to our understanding of Hoshana Rabbah. Rebbe Nachman, in his magnum opus, Likutei Moharan (Torah 74), quotes the Zohar that these willows, which we are instructed to take on Hoshana Rabbah, are representative of our lips. Most notably, this symbolism stems from the fact that the willow leaves appear to be in the shape of lips. This teaches us that our ability to speak is deeply connected to the day of Hoshana Rabbah. Rebbe Nachman explains that there are many challenging aspects of speech, and divine assistance is necessary when it comes to our ability to communicate verbally. Therefore, it stands to reason that our lips, meaning our speech and our power to choose only kind, positive and encouraging words during Succot, really do matter! (While this mitzvah of guarding one’s speech may be most acutely felt on Hoshana Rabbah, of course we should respect the power of speech all year!) Hoshana Rabbah challenges us to reflect upon and deeply examine our usual modalities of speech. We should stop to ask ourselves questions such as, “Are we typically careful in the ways that we speak of others?” “Is my personal list of usual vocabulary filled with positive words, or perhaps the opposite?” “Do I use my words to build people and situations, or is the opposite true?” May our new understanding of Hoshana Rabbah based on the ideas explained above and our rededication to the process of writing our own “book of life” provide us with a “gutten kvitel” and a joyous year to come!

STEP 3: EXPLORING THE TEXT