Tag Archives: Haftarah

An Honest Look at the Talmud

Earlier this week we discussed the necessity of the Talmud, and of an oral tradition in general, to Judaism. We presented an overview of the Talmud, and a brief description of its thousands of pages. And we admitted that, yes, there are some questionable verses in the Talmud (very few when considering the vastness of it). Here, we want to go through some of these, particularly those that are most popular on anti-Semitic websites and publications.

An illustration of Rabbi Akiva from the Mantua Haggadah of 1568

By far the most common is that the Talmud is racist or advocates for the destruction of gentiles. This is based on several anecdotes comparing non-Jews to animals, or the dictum of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai that “the best of gentiles should be killed”. First of all, we have to be aware of the linguistic style of the Talmud, which often uses strong hyperbole that is not to be taken literally (more on this below). More importantly, we have to remember that these statements were made in a time where Jews were experiencing a tremendous amount of horrible persecution. Rabbi Shimon’s teacher, Rabbi Akiva was tortured to death by being flayed with iron combs. This is a man who never hurt anyone, who raised the status of women, sought to abolish servitude, preached that the most important law is “to love your fellow as yourself”, and taught that all men are made in God’s image (Avot 3:14). For no crime of his own, he was grotesquely slaughtered by the Romans. Rabbi Shimon himself had to hide from the Romans in a cave for 13 years with his son, subsisting off of nothing but carobs. The Jews in Sassanid Persia didn’t fare too much better. So, the anger and resentment of the Sages to their gentile oppressors sometimes come out in the pages of Talmud. Yet, the same Talmud insists “Before the throne of the Creator there is no difference between Jews and gentiles.” (TY Rosh Hashanah 57a). Moreover, a non-Jew who is righteous, and occupies himself with law and spirituality, is likened to a kohen gadol, the high priest (Bava Kamma 38a).

In fact, the contempt that the Sages sometimes had for gentiles is not simply because they were not Jewish, for we see that the Sages had the same contempt, if not more so, for certain other Jews! The Talmud (Pesachim 49b) warns never to marry an ‘am ha’aretz, an unlearned or non-religious Jew, and even compares such Jews to beasts. In the same way that gentiles are sometimes compared to animals, and in the same way Rabbi Shimon said they should “be killed”, Rabbi Shmuel said that the ‘am ha’aretz should be “torn like a fish”! Why such harsh words for other Jews? Because they, too, do not occupy themselves with moral development, with personal growth, or with the law. Therefore, they are more likely to be drawn to sin and immorality. (This sentiment is expressed even in the New Testament, where John 7:49 states that “the people who know not the law [‘am ha’aretz] are cursed.”) After all, the very purpose of man in this world “is to perfect himself”, as Rabbi Akiva taught (Tanchuma on Tazria 5), and how can one do so without study? Still, the Sages conclude (Avot d’Rabbi Natan, ch. 16) that

A man should not say, “Love the pupils of the wise but hate the ‘am ha’aretẓ,” but one should love all, and hate only the heretics, the apostates, and informers, following David, who said: “Those that hate You, O Lord, I hate” [Psalms 139:21]

Rabbi Akiva is a particularly interesting case, because he was an ‘am ha’aretz himself in the first forty years of his life. Of this time, he says how much he used to hate the learned Jews, with all of their laws and apparent moral superiority, and that he wished to “maul the scholar like a donkey”. Rabbi Akiva’s students asked why he said “like a donkey” and not “like a dog”, to which Akiva replied that while a dog’s bite hurts, a donkey’s bite totally crushes the bones! We can learn a lot from Rabbi Akiva: it is easy to hate those you do not understand. Once Akiva entered the realm of the Law, he saw how beautiful and holy the religious world is. It is fitting that Rabbi Akiva, who had lived in both worlds, insisted so much on loving your fellow. And loving them means helping them find God and live a holy, righteous life, which is why Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani (the same one who said that the ‘am ha’aretz should be devoured like a fish) stated that:

He who teaches Torah to his neighbour’s son will be privileged to sit in the Heavenly Academy, for it is written, “If you will cause [Israel] to repent, then will I bring you again, and you shall stand before me…” [Jeremiah 15:19] And he who teaches Torah to the son of an ‘am ha’aretz, even if the Holy One, blessed be He, pronounces a decree against him, He annuls it for his sake, as it is written, “… and if you shall take forth the precious from the vile, you shall be as My mouth…” [ibid.]

Promiscuity in the Talmud

Another horrible accusation levelled against the rabbis of the Talmud is that they were (God forbid) promiscuous and allowed all sorts of sexual indecency. Anyone who makes such a claim clearly knows nothing of the Sages, who were exceedingly modest and chaste. They taught in multiple places how important it is to guard one’s eyes, even suggesting that looking at so much as a woman’s pinky finger is inappropriate (Berakhot 24a). Sexual intercourse should be done only at night or in the dark, and in complete privacy—so much so that some sages would even get rid of any flies in the room! (Niddah 17a) Most would avoid touching their private parts at all times, even while urinating (Niddah 13a). The following page goes so far as to suggest that one who only fantasizes and gives himself an erection should be excommunicated. The Sages cautioned against excessive intercourse, spoke vehemently against wasting seed, and taught that “there is a small organ in a man—if he starves it, it is satisfied; if he satisfies it, it remains starved.” (Sukkah 52b)

Anti-Semitic and Anti-Talmudic websites like to bring up the case of Elazar ben Durdya, of whom the Talmud states “there was not a prostitute in the world” that he did not sleep with (Avodah Zarah 17a). Taking things out of context, what these sites fail to bring up is that the Talmud, of course, does not at all condone Elazar’s actions. In fact, the passage ends with Elazar realizing his terribly sinful ways, and literally dying from shame.

Another disgusting accusation is that the Talmud permits pederasty (God forbid). In reality, what the passage in question (Sanhedrin 54b) is discussing is when the death penalty for pederasty should be applied, and at which age a child is aware of sexuality. Nowhere does it say that such a grotesque act is permitted. The Sages are debating a sensitive issue of when a death penalty should be used. Shmuel insists that any child over the age of three is capable of accurately “throwing guilt” upon another, and this would be valid grounds for a death penalty. Elsewhere, the Talmud states that not only do pederasts deserve to be stoned to death, but they “delay the coming of the Messiah” (Niddah 13b).

The Talmud is similarly accused of allowing a three year old girl to be married. This is also not the whole picture. A father is allowed to arrange a marriage for his daughter, but “it is forbidden for one to marry off his daughter when she is small, until she grows up and says ‘this is the one I want to marry.’” (Kiddushin 41a) Indeed, we don’t see a single case of any rabbi in the Talmud marrying a minor, or marrying off their underage daughter. Related discussions appear in a number of other pages of the Talmud. In one of these (Yevamot 60b), Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai states that a girl who was converted to Judaism before three years of age is permitted to marry a kohen, although kohanim are generally forbidden from marrying converts. This, too, has been twisted as if Rabbi Shimon allowed a kohen to marry a three-year old. He did not say this at all, rather stating that a girl under three who is converted to Judaism (presumably by her parents, considering her young age) is actually not considered a convert but likened to a Jew from birth. Once again we see the importance of proper context.

Science in the Talmud

Last week we already addressed that scientific and medical statements in the Talmud are not based on the Torah, and are simply a reflection of the contemporary knowledge of that time period. As we noted, just a few hundred years after the Talmud’s completion, Rav Sherira Gaon already stated that its medical advice should not be followed, nor should its (sometimes very strange) healing concoctions be made. The Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim III, 14) expanded this to include the sciences, particularly astronomy and mathematics, which had come a long way by the time of the Rambam (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, 1135-1204). The Rambam did not state that the Sages are necessarily wrong on scientific matters—for indeed we see that they are often quite precise—nonetheless:

You must not expect that everything our Sages say respecting astronomical matters should agree with observation, for mathematics were not fully developed in those days: and their statements were not based on the authority of the Prophets, but on the knowledge which they either themselves possessed or derived from contemporary men of science.

Some scientific statements of the Talmud which have been proven wrong include: The earth’s crust is 1000 cubits thick (Sukkot 53b)—today we have mines that go down four kilometres, which is well over 5000 cubits at least! Lions, bears, and elephants have a gestation period of three years (Bekhorot 8a)—while the Talmud is right by previously stating that cows have a nine-month gestation period, lions actually have gestation of 110 days, bears of 95-220 days depending on the species, and elephants of 22 months.

On the other hand, the Talmud is accurate, for example, when describing the water cycle (Ta’anit 9a), with Rabbi Eliezer explaining that water evaporates from the seas, condenses into clouds, and rains back down. It is also surprisingly close when calculating the number of stars in the universe (Berakhot 32b), with God declaring:

… twelve constellations have I created in the firmament, and for each constellation I have created thirty hosts, and for each host I have created thirty legions, and for each legion I have created thirty cohorts, and for each cohort I have created thirty maniples, and for each maniple I have created thirty camps, and to each camp I have attached three hundred and sixty-five thousands of myriads of stars, corresponding to the days of the solar year, and all of them I have created for your sake.

Doing the math brings one to 1018 stars. This number was hard to fathom in Talmudic times, and even more recently, too (I personally own a book published in the 1930s which states that scientists estimate there are about a million stars in the universe), yet today scientists calculate similar numbers, with one estimate at 1019 stars.

History in the Talmud

When it comes to historical facts the Talmud, like most ancient books, is not always accurate. Historical knowledge was extremely limited in those days. There was no archaeology, no linguistics, and no historical studies departments; neither were there printing presses or books to easily preserve or disseminate information. This was a time of fragile and expensive scrolls, typically reserved for Holy Scriptures.

All in all, the Talmud doesn’t speak too much of history. Some of its reckonings of kings and dynasties are certainly off, and this was recognized even before modern scholarship. For example, Abarbanel (1437-1508) writes of the Talmud’s commentaries on the chronology in Daniel that “the commentators spoke falsely because they did not know the history of the monarchies” (Ma’ayanei HaYeshua 11:4).

The Talmud has also been criticised for exaggerating historical events. In one place (Gittin 57b), for instance, the Talmud suggests that as many as four hundred thousand myriads (or forty billion) Jews were killed by the Romans in Beitar. This is obviously impossible, and there is no doubt the rabbis knew that. It is possible they did not use the word “myriads” to literally refer to 10,000 (as is usually accepted) but simply to mean “a great many”, just as the word is commonly used in English. If so, then the Talmud may have simply meant 400,000 Jews, which is certainly reasonable considering that Beitar was the last stronghold and refuge of the Jews during the Bar Kochva Revolt.

Archaeological remains of the Beitar fortress.

Either way, as already demonstrated the Talmud is known to use highly exaggerated language as a figure of speech. It is not be taken literally. This is all the more true for the stories of Rabbah Bar Bar Chanah, which are ridiculed for their embellishment. Bar Bar Chanah’s own contemporaries knew it, too, with Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish even refusing to take his helping hand while nearly drowning in the Jordan River! (Yoma 9b) Nonetheless, the Talmud preserves his tall tales probably because they carry deeper metaphorical meanings.

Having said that, there are times when the Talmud is extremely precise in its historical facts. For example, it records (Avodah Zarah 9a) the historical eras leading up to the destruction of the Second Temple:

…Greece ruled for one hundred and eighty years during the existence of the Temple, the Hasmonean rule lasted one hundred and three years during Temple times, the House of Herod ruled one hundred and three years. Henceforth, one should go on counting the years as from the destruction of the Temple. Thus we see that [Roman rule over the Temple] was two hundred and six years…

We know from historical sources that Alexander conquered Israel around 331 BCE. The Maccabees threw off the yoke of the Greeks around 160 BCE, and Simon Maccabee officially began the Hasmonean dynasty in 142 BCE. That comes out to between 171 and 189 years of Greek rule, depending on where one draws the endpoint, right in line with the Talmud’s 180 years. The Hasmoneans went on to rule until 37 BCE, when Herod took over—that’s 105 years, compared to the Talmud’s 103 years. And the Temple was destroyed in 70 CE, making Herodian rule over the Temple last about 107 years. We also know that Rome recognized the Hasmonean Jewish state around 139 BCE, taking a keen interest in the Holy Land thereafter, and continuing to be involved in its affairs until officially taking over in 63 BCE. They still permitted the Hasmoneans and Herodians to “rule” in their place until 92 CE. Altogether, the Romans loomed over Jerusalem’s Temple for about 209 years; the Talmud states 206 years. Considering that historians themselves are not completely sure of the exact years, the Talmud’s count is incredibly precise.

Understanding the Talmud

Lastly, it is important never to forget that the Talmud is not the code of Jewish law, and that Judaism is far, far more than just the Talmud. There are literally thousands of other holy texts. Jews do not just study Talmud, and even centuries ago, a Jew who focused solely on Talmud was sometimes disparagingly called a hamor d’matnitin, “Mishnaic donkey”. The Talmud itself states (Kiddushin 30a) that one should spend a third of their time studying Tanakh, a third studying Mishnah (and Jewish law), and a third studying Gemara (and additional commentary). The Arizal prescribes a study routine that begins with the weekly parasha from the Five Books of Moses, then progresses to the Nevi’im (Prophets) and Ketuvim, then to Talmud, and finally to Kabbalah (see Sha’ar HaMitzvot on Va’etchanan). He also states emphatically that one who does not study all aspects of Judaism has not properly fulfilled the mitzvah of Torah study.

A Torah scroll in its Sephardic-style protective case, with crown.

Those who claim that Jews have replaced the Tanakh with the Talmud are entirely mistaken: When Jews gather in the synagogue, we do not take out the Talmud from the Holy Ark, but a scroll of Torah. It is this Torah which is so carefully transcribed by hand, which is adorned with a crown to signify its unceasing authority, and before which every Jew rises. After the Torah reading, we further read the Haftarah, a selection from the Prophets. At no point is there a public reading of Talmud. As explained previously, the Talmud is there to help us understand the Tanakh, and bring it to life.

Ultimately, one has to remember that the Talmud is a continuing part of the evolution of Judaism. We wrote before how we were never meant to blindly follow the Torah literally, but rather to study it, develop it, grow together with it, and extract its deeper truths. The same is true of the Talmud—the “Oral” Torah—and of all others subjects within Judaism, including Midrash, Kabbalah, and Halacha. Judaism is constantly evolving and improving, and that’s the whole point.

For more debunking of lies and myths about the Talmud, click here.

That Year When Sukkot was 14 Days Long and Everyone Ate on Yom Kippur

The Haftarah reading for the second day of Sukkot is a passage from the Book of Kings. The passage describes how the Jewish people inaugurated the Holy Temple in Jerusalem:

And all the people of Israel assembled themselves unto King Solomon at the feast, in the month of Eitanim, which is the seventh month. And all the elders of Israel came, and the priests took up the Ark. And they brought up the Ark of Hashem, and the Tent of Meeting, and all the holy vessels that were in the Tent; even these did the priests and the Levites bring up… (I Kings 8:2-4)

1896 Illustration of King Solomon Drafting Plans for the First Temple

The passage goes on to describe the offerings presented to God, and then the speech and blessings delivered by Solomon to the people. The Haftarah ends at this point, but the Tanakh continues to relate a prayer of Solomon, where he asks God to bless the Davidic dynasty, to maintain His presence in the new Temple, and to act justly with the Jewish people. Solomon requests for God to forgive the sins of Israel, to protect them, and to keep them as His treasured people. He asks God to keep the Jews on the right path, and give them strength to fulfil their mission in this world: “So that all the peoples of the Earth may know that Hashem, He is God; there is none else.” The chapter concludes with some puzzling words:

So Solomon held the feast at that time, and all Israel with him, a great congregation, from the entrance of Hamath unto the Brook of Egypt, before Hashem our God, seven days and seven days, fourteen days altogether. On the eighth day he sent the people away, and they blessed the king, and went unto their tents joyful and glad of heart for all the goodness that Hashem had shown unto David His servant, and to Israel His people. (I Kings 8:65-66)

Since we are talking about the month of Tishrei (then known as Eitanim), the seven-day festival must be Sukkot, and the eighth day that is mentioned must be Shemini Atzeret. The text says that the festival was fourteen days, an extra week in honour of the Temple inauguration. That means Sukkot started a week early, on the 8th of Tishrei. If that’s the case, what happened to Yom Kippur, on the 10th?

The Talmud (Mo’ed Katan 9a) surprisingly states that Yom Kippur was not commemorated that year, as it was superseded by the Temple’s inauguration! But how could such a thing be done? Yom Kippur is a clear commandment from the Torah! What gave Solomon and his elders the authority to negate a Torah mitzvah in order to throw a party?

An Era of New Holidays

The Midrash famously prophesies that a day will come when all the current holidays will be nullified (except for Purim, according to most opinions). Meanwhile, Zechariah prophesied that all the fast days will be transformed into feast days (Zechariah 8:19). When will this happen? When Mashiach comes, of course. And who is Mashiach?

Mashiach is a descendent of King David, who establishes a united Jewish kingdom in the Holy Land, builds a Temple in Jerusalem, and brings peace to the world. Solomon was the son of David, ruled over a united Jewish kingdom, built the first Temple, and successfully brought peace to the whole region, if not the whole world. (According to tradition, there were no wars at all during Solomon’s reign, hence his name Shlomo, which means “peace”.) Solomon fit the bill of Mashiach perfectly, and was quite literally Mashiach ben David.

And so, since there is an established tradition and prophecy that Mashiach’s coming will nullify the holidays, there was no need for Yom Kippur. If that’s the case, why celebrate Sukkot? Shouldn’t Sukkot be nullified as well? Amazingly, the Haftarah reading for the first day of Sukkot tells us:

And it shall come to pass, that every one that is left of all the nations that came against Jerusalem shall go up from year to year to worship the King, the Lord of Hosts, and to keep the feast of tabernacles.

Sukkah decoration featuring the “Sukkah of Leviathan”, in which the righteous shall feast with Mashiach during the festival of Sukkot. (Malkhut Vaxberger, www.mwaxb.co.il)

The prophet Zechariah stated that after Mashiach’s coming, the land of Israel will finally be secured for the Jewish people, and once a year—only once a year—all the nations of the world will come to celebrate together with the Jews. What will they celebrate? The feast of tabernacles, Chag haSukkot!

While all the current Jewish holidays (except Purim) may indeed become nullified, Sukkot will transform into a special international holiday for the whole world. Thus, King Solomon’s nullification of Yom Kippur and establishment of an extra-long, special Sukkot is right in line with what’s supposed to happen when Mashiach comes. (A careful reading of the verses even suggests that Solomon invited the nations for the festival: “a great congregation” from Hamath until Egypt.)

Was Solomon the Messiah?

All of the above begs the question: was King Solomon the prophesied messiah? It appears Solomon should have been the messiah, but unfortunately failed to fulfil this role. As is well-known, Solomon’s taking of one thousand wives and concubines was not for his personal pleasure, God forbid, but in order to make peace treaties with all the surrounding nations and kingdoms, and to introduce them to monotheism. Had he been successful in this, Solomon would have been Mashiach.

Instead, Solomon was unable to control those wives and concubines, and they turned him to idolatry. To be fair, it is highly unlikely that Solomon himself participated in idolatrous practices. Rather, because he was unable to reign in his wives, and his palace had become filled with idols, the Heavenly Court considered him personally responsible, and Scripture describes it as if Solomon himself fell into idolatry.

1553 Illustration of King Yehoash, or Joash

We read that Solomon’s reign lasted 40 years. This is, in fact, the prophesied length of time that Mashiach is supposed to rule (see Sanhedrin 99a, and Midrash Tehillim 15). It was also the length of David’s reign, and the righteous kings Asa and Yehoash. It appears all of these were potential messiahs. The same is true for Moses, who led the Israelites for 40 years. According to tradition, had Moses entered the land with the people, the Temple would have been built, and the World to Come would have been ushered in immediately.

Alas, it wasn’t meant to be, and we continue to await the day when (Zechariah 14:9) “Hashem shall be King over all the Earth; in that day Hashem will be One, and His Name one…”

Chag Sameach! 

Courtesy: Temple Institute

Is Mount Sinai Really a Mountain?

This week we read another double portion, Behar and Bechukotai, which begins by telling us that God “spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai” (Leviticus 25:1). Why does the Torah constantly reiterate that God spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai? Why does Mount Sinai matter so much?

Pirkei Avot opens by stating that Moses received the Torah not “at Sinai” (b’Sinai), but “from Sinai” (miSinai), as if the mountain itself revealed the Torah. More perplexing still, it is said that Sinai was so unique it descended down into this world just for the Torah’s revelation—and can no longer be found today! What do we really know about this enigmatic “mountain”?

A Mountain of Many Names

The Talmud (Megillah 29a, Shabbat 89a) records that Mount Sinai had multiple names, including Horev, Tzin, Kadesh, Kedomot, Paran, Har HaElohim, Har Bashan, and Har Gavnunim. The latter name comes from the root meaning “hunched” (giben) or short. Mount Sinai was a lowly and humble mountain, which is why God picked it in the first place. This name is also a reason why it is customary to eat dairy foods on the holiday of Shavuot—which commemorates the giving of the Torah at Sinai—since gavnunim is related to gevinah, cheese.

The term gavnunim comes from Psalms 68:17, where we read how other mountains were jealous of Sinai. The same verse is cited by Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer (ch. 19) in stating that God created seven special mountains, and chose Sinai for the greatest of His revelations. We are told that the name Sinai comes from s’neh, the burning bush that appeared to Moses on this mountain. Delving deeper, however, we see that Moses didn’t just stumble upon the place and, in fact, Sinai was far more than just a mountain.

Mountain, or Vehicle?

In commenting on the first chapters of Exodus, Yalkut Reuveni tells us that Mount Sinai actually uprooted itself and flew towards Moses while he was shepherding his flocks. Meanwhile, the Talmud (Shabbat 88a) famously states that the Israelites stood not at the foot of Sinai, but underneath Sinai, with the mountain hovering over their heads. Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer (ch. 41) gives us even more fascinating details:

On the sixth of Sivan, the Holy One, blessed be He, was revealed to Israel on Sinai, and from His place was He revealed on Mount Sinai and the Heavens were opened, and the summit of the mountain entered into the Heavens. Thick darkness covered the mountain, and the Holy One, blessed be He, sat upon His throne, and His feet stood on the thick darkness, as it is said, “He bowed the heavens also, and came down; and thick darkness was under His feet.” (II Samuel 22:10)

Despite being a lowly mountain, Sinai’s summit ascended up to the Heavens. Then God Himself descended upon it, with His “feet” amidst the cloud of thick darkness (‘araphel) surrounding the mountain. The passage continues:

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Karchah said: The feet of Moses stood on the mount, and all his body was in the Heavens… beholding and seeing everything that is in the Heavens. The Holy One, blessed be He, was speaking with him like a man who is conversing with his companion, as it is said, “And Hashem spoke unto Moses face to face.” (Exodus 33:11)

Moses’s feet were “on the mount”, yet his entire body was in Heaven! This brings to mind the vision of Ezekiel, where the prophet sees the Merkavah, God’s “Chariot”, descending from Heaven before “… a spirit lifted me up, and I heard behind me the sound of a great rushing… also the noise of the wings of the Chayot as they touched one another, and the noise of the wheels beside them, the noise of a great rushing.” (Ezekiel 3:12-13)

A Sci-Fi Version of Ezekiel’s Vision

Like Elijah and Enoch before him, Ezekiel was taken up to Heaven upon a mysterious vehicle, complete with wings and spinning wheels that generated a deafening noise. (With regards to Elijah, we read in II Kings 2:11 that “there appeared a chariot of fire… and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind up to Heaven.”) Similarly, Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer suggests that there were 22,000 such chariots at Sinai! This is based on Psalms 68:18, which says “The chariots of God are myriads, thousands upon thousands; Adonai is among them, as at Sinai, in holiness.”

A Vehicle of Prophecy

The similarities between Ezekiel’s Vision and the Revelation at Sinai don’t end there. Ezekiel (1:4, 13, 24) writes:

… A stormy wind came out of the north, a great cloud, with a fire flashing up… and out of the fire went forth lightning… a tumultuous noise like a great military camp…

Exodus 19:16-18 describes the scene this way:

… There were noises and lightning bolts, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the sound of a horn exceedingly loud… And Mount Sinai was covered in smoke, because Hashem descended upon it in fire…

Both passages speak of fire and lightning, thick clouds and ear-splitting noises. The semblance is undoubtedly the reason for Ezekiel’s Vision being read as the haftarah for the holiday of Shavuot. The Midrash (Shemot Rabbah 43:8) even writes that the inspiration for the Golden Calf at Sinai was the face of the bull upon God’s Chariot, as described by Ezekiel (1:10).

These midrashic descriptions suggest that Sinai—far from being simply a mountain—is a vehicle of prophecy and revelation, much like the Merkavah. It is therefore not surprising to see Sinai implicated in various other prophetic visions, including Elijah’s conversation with God (I Kings 19), and Jacob’s vision of the ladder (where “ladder”, סלם, also has the same gematria as “Sinai”, סיני). It explains why Pirkei Avot states that Moses received the Torah from Sinai, and why the Torah constantly connects Moses’ prophecy to it.

Ultimately, prophecy and divine revelation will return with the coming of Mashiach and the rebuilding of the Temple. So, it is fitting to end with one more midrash (Yalkut Shimoni, Isaiah 391), which states that God will bring back Sinai in the future; it will descend upon Jerusalem, and the Holy Temple will be rebuilt right on top of it.


Make your Shavuot night-learning meaningful with the Arizal’s ‘Tikkun Leil Shavuot’, a mystical Torah-study guide, now in English and Hebrew, with commentary.

1909: End of the “Jewish Curse” and Fulfilment of Prophecy

Towards the end of this week’s parasha, Ki Tavo, we read a long list of horrifying curses with which God threatens the Jewish people if they stray from the path of righteousness. What’s more shocking than reading this terrible list is realizing that the Jewish people have experienced just about every one of these curses in our long history: oppression, destruction, injustice, fear, poverty, starvation, exile, genocide, desperation, forced conversion, captivity, expulsion, and utter annihilation. The Torah says that these travails will be so extensive that the Jewish people “will become an astonishment, an example, a byword among all the peoples to whom Hashem will lead you.” (Deut. 28:37) Israel will become the very epitome of curses and suffering. Indeed, history has confirmed this unfortunate prophecy.

Thankfully, the prophecies don’t end there. The haftarah for this parasha is a passage from the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah prophesies the very opposite, and says that a time will come when all of these curses will be reversed into blessings. Whereas Moses says God “will scatter you among all the nations, from one end of the earth to the other,” (28:64), Isaiah says that “all have gathered, they have come to you; your sons shall come from afar, and your daughters shall be raised…” (60:4). While Moses warns that “your skies above you will be copper, and the earth below you iron” (28:23), Isaiah says that “Instead of the copper I will bring gold, and instead of the iron I will bring silver.” (60:17) God confirms that He has put us through many trials in the past, and while this was long in duration, it was nonetheless only temporary, for “in My wrath I struck you, and in My grace I have had mercy on you.” (60:10)

Amazingly, we are living the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecies. The Jewish people have returned en masse to the Promised Land, have made the barren deserts bloom once more, and have miraculously defended their borders time and again. In the span of just several decades, the State of Israel has transformed into an agricultural, technological, and military powerhouse – despite very few natural resources, a small landmass, and a tiny population. As Isaiah predicted “…the abundance of the west shall be turned over to you, the wealth of the nations will come to you.” (60:5) Now, all that remains to be seen is the last part of Isaiah’s promises:

Violence shall no longer be heard in your land, neither robbery nor destruction within your borders, and you shall call your walls “salvation”, and your gates “praise”… And your people, all of them righteous, shall inherit the land forever, a scion of My planting, the work of My hands in which I will glory. The smallest shall become a thousand and the least a mighty nation; I am Hashem, in its time I will hasten it. (60:18, 21-22)

Israel will finally have true peace, with the world no longer questioning the indigenous Jewish people’s legitimacy to inhabit their Holy Land. The very last verse of this prophecy then says that when that time finally comes, God will “hasten” its arrival. This is quite the perplexing statement, and one that has kept rabbis and scholars thinking for millennia. The problem is as follows: If something is being hastened, then it is obviously coming before its time, and if it is coming on time, then it hasn’t been hastened!

Another way of looking at it is that one makes haste when they are already late. Few would disagree that this final redemption is long overdue. Since it is so late in coming, God will make haste to bring it about. An even simpler explanation is that when the time comes, God will hasten the series of events to bring about that happy ending. Recent history has shown that this is exactly what has happened.

In the late 1800s, the thought of an independent Jewish state in the Holy Land was still a very distant dream. The “first aliyah” began in 1882, and though as many as 35,000 Jews migrated to Israel by 1903, some scholars estimate that up to 90% of them left Israel soon after because of unfavourable conditions.

Then came 1909. In that year, a group of ten men and two women established a unique collective near the Galilee which would become the first kibbutz. The model of the kibbutz proved successful, and expanded from twelve people in 1909 to four thousand people living in thirty kibbutzim across the country by 1929. The kibbutz became one of the most significant factors in the rebirth of Israel, playing a key role in defending the land, driving agricultural innovation, and inspiring the “Israeli dream”.

Degania Alef, the first kibbutz, in 1910 (Left), and in 1931 (Right)

Degania Alef, the first kibbutz, in 1910 (Left), and in 1931 (Right)

Around the same time in 1909, a group of 66 families parceled out a plot of land outside of Jaffa (which was previously purchased by a wealthy Dutch Jew named Jacobus Kann). By 1922, this little settlement had become the bustling city of Tel-Aviv, with a population hitting 34,000 just a few years later. It would only take two more decades for the declaration of independence to be proclaimed from that city, and two more to liberate all of Jerusalem.

66 Families Parcel Out Tel-Aviv in 1909 (Left), the city in 1922 (Middle), and Tel-Aviv today (Right)

66 Families Parcel Out Tel-Aviv in 1909 (Left); the city in 1922 (Centre); and Tel-Aviv today (Right)

Events have certainly progressed very quickly, and a glance at today’s geopolitical situation shows that they continue to rapidly accelerate. The spark for it all appears to have been lit in 1909 by those two seminal events – the first kibbutz and the first city – which propelled the rebirth of Israel and the fulfilment of Biblical prophecy. What’s most interesting is that this special number – 1909 – is precisely the gematria (numerical value) of that final cryptic verse of Isaiah: “The smallest shall become a thousand and the least a mighty nation; I am Hashem, in its time I will hasten it.”

Will There Be Sacrifices in the Third Temple?

Offerings on the Altar (Courtesy: Temple Institute)

Offerings on the Altar (Courtesy: Temple Institute)

This week’s Torah reading is Acharei, focusing on the details of the priestly procedure performed on Yom Kippur in the Temple (or Tabernacle). God instructs Aaron to take two goats and one bull. One of the goats is to be sacrificed, while the other is to be sent to “Azazel” (the identity of which we have discussed in the past).  Meanwhile, the bull is also to be sacrificed, and its blood sprinkled on the Holy Vessels within the innermost chamber of the Temple, the Holy of Holies. The third book of the Torah, Vayikra (Leviticus), often details such lengthy sacrificial procedures. To the modern reader, these passages tend to be quite difficult to read, with rituals that seem unnecessarily bloody and grotesque. Does God really want us to sacrifice animals? And when the Third Temple is rebuilt, will we once again be responsible for performing such rituals?

Back to the Garden of Eden

When God initially created the world, he placed man in a perfect environment where there was absolutely no death or bloodshed of any kind. Man was instructed only to consume fruits and plant matter. In fact, it wasn’t until the time of Noach that God reluctantly agreed to allow mankind to consume meat. From a Kabbalistic perspective, this was done only for the purposes of tikkun, spiritual rectification (see Sha’ar HaMitzvot on parashat Ekev, and Sha’ar HaPesukim on Beresheet). The sinful souls of the flood generation were reincarnated into animals, and through their slaughter and consumption, those souls could be rectified and returned to the Heavenly domain.

[This is clearly hinted to in the phrasing of the Torah’s text: the animals that Noach took unto the Ark to be saved were initially described as zachar v’nekeva, “male and female” (Genesis 6:19). However, we are later told that some of the animals, particularly those to be slaughtered following the flood, were ish v’ishto, literally “man and woman”, or “husband and wife”! (Genesis 7:2)]

Thus, sacrifices – and the consumption of meat in general – is a temporary phenomenon, for the purposes of tikkun, and not what God intended in His ideal conception of the world. Indeed, God often states in Scripture that He neither wants, nor requires any sacrifices, and even that He never commanded them to begin with!:

So said Hashem, Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel: you add burnt offerings onto your sacrifices, and eat flesh, which I did not speak unto your forefathers, nor did I command them on the day that I took them out of Egypt, concerning burnt offerings and sacrifices. Rather, it is this that I commanded them: Listen to My voice, and I shall be for you a God, and you shall be for me a people, and you shall walk in all my ways that I shall command you, that it may be well for you.

The Rambam explains these perplexing words from Jeremiah 7:21-23 by saying that when taking the Israelites out of Egypt, God could not forbid them from offering sacrifices. This is because by that time period, offering sacrifices was the most common form of divine worship among the masses, and this is what the Israelites were familiar with. Thus, God had the Israelites bring sacrifices temporarily, to slowly wean them off this practice:

The Israelites were commanded to devote themselves to His service… But the custom which was in those days general among all men, and the general mode of worship in which the Israelites were brought up, consisted in sacrificing animals in those temples which contained certain images, to bow down to those images, and to bum incense before them; religious and ascetic persons were in those days the persons that were devoted to the service in the temples erected to the stars, as has been explained by us. It was in accordance with the wisdom and plan of God, as displayed in the whole Creation, that He did not command us to give up and to discontinue all these manners of service; for to obey such a commandment it would have been contrary to the nature of man, who generally cleaves to that to which he is used; it would in those days have made the same impression as a prophet would make at present if he called us to the service of God and told us in His name, that we should not pray to Him, not fast, not seek His help in time of trouble; that we should serve Him in thought, and not by any action. For this reason God allowed these kinds of service to continue; He transferred to His service that which had formerly served as a worship of created beings, and of things imaginary and unreal, and commanded us to serve Him in the same manner; namely, to build unto Him a temple; ‘And they shall make unto me a sanctuary’ (Exodus 25:8); to have the altar erected to His name; ‘An altar of earth thou shalt make unto me’ (ibid. 20:21); to offer the sacrifices to Him; ‘If any man of you bring an offering unto the Lord’ (Leviticus 1:2), to bow down to Him and to bum incense before Him… By this Divine plan it was effected that the traces of idolatry were blotted out, and the truly great principle of our faith, the Existence and Unity of God, was firmly established; this result was thus obtained without deterring or confusing the minds of the people by the abolition of the service to which they were accustomed and which alone was familiar to them…

The Rambam goes on to elaborate on this point in more detail, and to thoroughly prove his argument, which is quite a fascinating read (Guide for the Perplexed, Part III, Ch. 32). He is clear on the fact that sacrifices were not God’s original intention, as we see in the Garden of Eden and through the words of the Prophet Jeremiah, but only a temporary necessity.

Sacrifices in the Third Temple?

Having said that, the Rambam does paradoxically write in his Mishneh Torah that sacrifices will resume in the Third Temple. It appears that the Rambam publicly went with the mainstream Orthodox approach, but in private, held that sacrifices will not be performed ever again. The Rambam writes that prayer is a far greater mode of worship than sacrifice – an idea that goes back to the prophet Hoshea, who declared “we shall offer the cows with our lips” (Hosea 14:3).

More recently, Rabbi Avraham Itzchak Kook, the first Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Israel, similarly appeared to vacillate on the issue. In one place, he suggests that only grain offerings will be reinstated, and not animal offerings. (This is based on Malachi 3:4, which only mentions a restoration of grain offerings. Indeed, we have written how the Torah only mentions the mincha grain offering as being eternal.) Some suggest that only one type of offering will return (the voluntary Todah, or “thanksgiving” offering), while others suggest that sacrifices will return for a short period before being permanently abolished.

Ultimately, if God intended a perfect world with no death – as was His original plan for the Garden of Eden – and the future Redemption is essentially a global return to a state of Eden, then we certainly shouldn’t expect any more sacrifices in the future. We read in the Haftarah of the eighth day of Passover, describing the coming world:

…the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.
(Isaiah 11:6)

The world is set to return to an idyllic state without any death or bloodshed, as it was in the Garden of Eden. In such a world, there is certainly no place for sacrifices.

'Going Up To The Third Temple' by Ofer Yom Tov

‘Going Up To The Third Temple’ by Ofer Yom Tov