Tag Archives: Language

The Difference between “Jew” and “Hebrew”

“Death of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram” by Gustave Doré

This week’s parasha is named after Korach, the rebellious cousin of Moses. Korach felt he had been unfairly slighted. Moses had apparently made himself like a king over the people, then appointed his brother Aaron as high priest. The final straw was appointing another cousin, the younger Elitzaphan, as chief of the Kohatites, a clan of Levites of which Korach was an elder. Where was Korach’s honour?

Korach’s co-conspirators were Datan and Aviram, leaders of the tribe of Reuben. They, too, felt like they’d been dealt a bad hand. After all, Reuben was the eldest son of Jacob, and as the firstborn among the tribes, should have been awarded the priesthood.

The Sages explain that Reuben indeed should have held the priesthood. Not only that, but as the firstborn, he should have also been the king. Reuben, however, had failed in preventing the sale of Joseph, and had also committed the unforgivable sin of “mounting his father’s bed”. For this latter crime especially, and for being “unstable like water”, Jacob declared that Reuben would “not excel” or live up to being “my first fruit, excelling in dignity, excelling in power” (Genesis 49:3-4).

Instead, the status of “firstborn” was awarded to Joseph, who had taken on the mantle of leadership and saved his entire family in a time of terrible drought. Jacob made Joseph the firstborn, and thus gave Joseph a double portion among the Tribes and in the land of Israel. He put Joseph’s sons Ephraim and Menashe in place of his own firsts Reuben and Shimon (Genesis 48:5). Meanwhile, the excellence of “dignity”—the priesthood—went to the third-born son, Levi, and the excellence of power—royalty—went to the fourth son, Judah. (The second-born Shimon was skipped over because he, too, had greatly disappointed his father in slaughtering the people of Shechem, as well as spearheading the attempt to get rid of Joseph.)

Levi merited to hold the priesthood because the Levites were the only ones not to participate in the Golden Calf incident (Exodus 32:26). The Book of Jubilees (ch. 32) adds a further reason: Jacob had promised to God that he would tithe everything God gave him (Genesis 28:22), and everything included his children. Jacob thus lined up his sons, and counted them from the youngest up. The tenth son, the tithe, was Levi (who was the third-oldest, or “tenth-youngest”, of the twelve). And so, Levi was designated for the priesthood, to the service of God.

Judah merited the royal line for his honesty and repentance—particularly for the sale of Joseph, and for the incident with Tamar. He further established his leadership in taking the reins to safely secure the return of Benjamin. The name Yehudah comes from the root which means “to acknowledge” and “to be thankful”. Judah acknowledged his sins and purified himself of them. Ultimately, all Jews would be Yehudim, the people who are dedicated to repentance and the acknowledgement and recognition of Godliness in the world. Much of a Jew’s life is centered on prayers and blessings, thanking God every moment of the day, with berakhot recited before just about every action. The title Yehudi is therefore highly appropriate to describe this people. Yet, it is not the only title.

Long before Yehudi, this people was known as Ivri, “Hebrew”, and then Israel. What is the meaning of these parallel names?

Hebrew: Ethnicity or Social Class?

The first time we see the term “Hebrew” is in Genesis 14:13, where Abraham (then still called Abram) is called HaIvri. The meaning is unclear. The Sages offer a number of interpretations. The plain meaning of the word seems to mean “who passes” or “who is from the other side”. It may refer to the fact that Abraham migrated from Babel to Charan, and then from Charan to the Holy Land. Or, it may be a metaphorical title, for Abraham “stood apart” from everyone else. While the world was worshipping idols and living immorally, Abraham was “on the other side”, preaching monotheism and righteousness.

An alternate approach is genealogical: Ever was the name of a great-grandson of Noah. Noah’s son Shem had a son named Arpachshad, who had a son named Shelach, who had a son named Ever (see Genesis 11). In turn, Ever was an ancestor of Abraham (Ever-Peleg-Reu-Serug-Nachor-Terach-Abraham). Thus, Abraham was called an Ivri because he was from the greater clan of Ever’s descendants. This must have been a powerful group of people recognized across the region, as attested to by Genesis 10:21, which makes sure to point out that Shem was the ancestor of “all the children of Ever”. Amazingly, archaeological evidence supports this very notion.

“Habiru” in ancient cuneiform

From the 18th century BCE, all the way until the 12th century BCE, historical texts across the Middle East speak of people known as “Habiru” or “Apiru”.  The Sumerians described them as saggasu, “destroyers”, while other Mesopotamian and Egyptian texts describe them as mercenary warriors, slaves, rebels, nomads, or outlaws. Today, historians agree that “Habiru” refers to a social class of people that were somehow rejected or outcast from greater society. These were unwanted people that did not “fit in”. That would explain why Genesis 43:32 tells us that Joseph ate apart from the Egyptians, because “the Egyptians did not eat bread with the Hebrews; for that was an abomination to the Egyptians.”

One of the “Habiru” described in Egyptian texts are the “Shasu YHW” (Egyptian hieroglyphs above), literally “nomads of Hashem”. Scholars believe this is the earliest historical reference to the Tetragrammaton, God’s Ineffable Name, YHWH.

Defining “Hebrew” as an unwanted, migrating social class also solves a number of other issues. For example, Exodus 21:2 introduces the laws of an eved Ivri, “a Hebrew slave”. When many people read this passage, they are naturally disturbed, for it is unthinkable that God would permit a Jew to purchase another Jew as a slave. Yet, the Torah doesn’t say that this is a Jew at all, but an Ivri which, as we have seen, may refer to other outcasts from an inferior social class. The Habiru are often described as slaves or servants in the historical records of neighbouring peoples, so it appears that the Torah is actually speaking of these non-Jewish “Hebrews” that existed at the time. Regardless, the Torah shows a great deal of compassion for these wanderers, and sets limits for the length of their servitude (six years), while ensuring that they live in humane conditions.

Rebels and Mystics

Though he was certainly no slave or brigand, Abraham was undoubtedly a “rebel” in the eyes of the majority. To them, he was a “criminal”, too, as we read in the Midrash describing his arrest and trial by Nimrod the Babylonian king. Abraham spent much of his life wandering from one place to another, so the description of “nomad” works. So does “warrior”, for we read of Abraham’s triumphant military victory over an unstoppable confederation of four kings that devastated the entire region (Genesis 14). There is no doubt, then, that Abraham would have been classified as a “Habiru” in his day.

His descendants carried on the title. By the turn of the 1st millennium BCE, it seems that all the other Ivrim across the region had mostly disappeared, and only the descendants of Abraham, now known as the Israelites, remained. The term “Hebrew”, therefore, became synonymous with “Israelite” and later with Yehudi, “Judahite” or “Jew”. (This is probably why later commentators simply assumed that the Torah was speaking about Jewish slaves in the Exodus 21 passage discussed above.) To this day, in many cultures and languages the term for a “Jew” is still “Hebrew”. In Russian it is yivrei, in Italian it is ebreo, and in Greek evraios. In other cultures, meanwhile, “Hebrew” is used to denote the language of the Jews. It is Hebrew in English, hebräisch in German, hébreu in French.

In fact, another rabbinic theory for the origins of the term Ivri is that it refers specifically to the language. In Jewish tradition, Hebrew is lashon hakodesh, “the Holy Tongue” through which God created the universe when He spoke it into existence. The language contains those mystical powers, and because the wicked people of the Tower of Babel generation abused it, their tongues were confounded in the Great Dispersion. At that point, God divided the peoples into seventy new ethnicities, each with its own language, giving rise to the multitude of languages and dialects we have today.

A possible language tree to unify all of the world’s major tongues, based on the work of Stanford University Professor Joseph Greenberg. (Credit: angmohdan.com)

Hebrew did not disappear, though. It was retained by the two most righteous people of the time: Shem and Ever. According to tradition, they had built the first yeshiva, an academy of higher learning. Abraham had visited them there, and Jacob spent some fourteen years studying at their school. The Holy Tongue was preserved, and Jacob (who was renamed Israel) taught it to his children, and onwards it continued until it became the language of the Israelites.

Alternatively (or concurrently), Abraham learned the Hebrew language from his righteous grandfather Nachor, the great-grandson of Ever. We read of the elder Nachor (not to be confused with Nachor the brother of Abraham) that he had an uncharacteristically short lifespan for that time period (Genesis 11:24-25). This is likely because God took him away so that he wouldn’t have to live through the Great Dispersion. (Nachor would have died around the Hebrew year 1996, which is when the Dispersion occurred. The Sages similarly state that God took the righteous Methuselah, the longest-living person in the Torah, right before the Flood.)

Interestingly, we don’t see much of an association between the Hebrew language and the Hebrew people in the Tanakh. Instead, the language of the Jews is called, appropriately, Yehudit, as we read in II Kings 18:26-28, Isaiah 36:11-13, Nechemiah 13:24, and II Chronicles 32:18. The term Yehudit may be referring specifically to the dialect of Hebrew spoken by the southern people of Judah, which was naturally different than the dialect used in the northern Kingdom of Israel.

Israel and Jeshurun

The evidence leads us to believe that “Hebrew” was a wider social class in ancient times, and our ancestors identified themselves (or were identified by others) as “Hebrew”. This was the case until Jacob’s time. He was renamed Israel, and his children began to be referred to as Israelites, bnei Israel, literally the “children of Israel”. The twelve sons gave rise to an entire nation of people called Israel.

The Torah tells us that Jacob was named “Israel” because “he struggled with God, and with men, and prevailed” (Genesis 32:29). Jewish history really is little more than a long struggle of Israel with other nations, and with our God. We stray from His ways so He incites the nations against us to remind us who we are. Thankfully, throughout these difficult centuries, we have prevailed.

Within each Jew is a deep yearning to connect to Hashem, hinted to in the name Israel (ישראל), a conjunction of Yashar-El (ישר-אל), “straight to God”. This is similar to yet another name for the people of Israel that is used in the Tanakh: Yeshurun. In one place, Moses is described as “king of Yeshurun” (Deuteronomy 33:5), and in another God declares: “Fear not, Jacob my servant; Yeshurun, whom I have chosen.” (Isaiah 44:2) Yeshurun literally means “upright one”. This is what Israel is supposed to be, and why God chose us to begin with. “Israel” and “Yeshurun” have the same three-letter root, and many believe these terms were once interchangeable. The Talmud (Yoma 73b) states that upon the choshen mishpat—the special breastplate of the High Priest that contained a unique stone for each of the Twelve Tribes—was engraved not Shivtei Israel, “tribes of Israel”, but Shivtei Yeshurun, “tribes of Yeshurun”.

What is a Jew?

By the middle of the 1st century BCE, only the kingdom of the tribe of Judah remained. Countless refugees from the other eleven tribes migrated to Judah and intermingled with the people there. Then, Judah itself was destroyed, and everyone was exiled to Babylon. By the time they returned to the Holy Land—now the Persian province of Judah—the people were simply known as Yehudim, “Judahites”, or Jews. Whatever tribal origins they had were soon forgotten. Only the Levites (and Kohanim) held on to their tribal affiliation since it was necessary for priestly service.

As already touched on previously, it was no accident that it was particularly the name of Yehuda that survived. After all, the purpose of the Jewish people is to spread knowledge of God, and within the name Yehuda, יהודה, is the Ineffable Name of God itself. This name, like the people that carry it, is meant to be a vehicle for Godliness.

Perhaps this is why the term Yehudi, or Jew is today associated most with the religion of the people (Judaism). Hebrew, meanwhile, is associated with the language, or sometimes the culture. Not surprisingly, early Zionists wanted to detach themselves from the title of “Jew”, and only use the term “Hebrew”. Reform Jews, too, wanted to be called “Hebrews”. In fact, the main body of Reform in America was always called the Union of American Hebrew Congregations. It was only renamed the “Union for Reform Judaism” in 2003!

All of this begs the question: what is a Jew? What is Judaism? Is it a religion? An ethnicity or culture? A people bound by some common history or language? By the land of Israel, or by the State of Israel?

It cannot be a religion, for many Jews want absolutely nothing to do with religion. There are plenty who proudly identify as atheists and as Jews at the same time. We are certainly not a culture or ethnicity, either, for Ashkenazi Jews, Sephardi Jews, Mizrachi Jews, Ethiopian Jews, all have very different customs, traditions, and skin colours. Over the centuries, these groups have experienced very different histories, too, and have even developed dozens of other non-Hebrew Judaic languages (Yiddish, Ladino, Bukharian, and Krymchak are but a few examples).

So, what is a Jew? Rabbi Moshe Zeldman offers one terrific answer. He says that, despite the thousands of years that have passed, we are all still bnei Israel, the children of Israel, and that makes us a family. Every member of a family has his or her own unique identity and appearance, and some members of a family may be more religious than others. Family members can live in distant places, far apart from each other, and go through very different experiences. New members can marry into a family, or be adopted, and every family, of course, has its issues and conflicts. But at the end of the day, a family is strongly bound by much more than just blood, and comes together when it really matters.

And this is precisely what Moses told Korach and his supporters in this week’s parasha. Rashi (on Numbers 16:6) quotes Moses’ response:

Among each of the other nations, there are multiple sects and multiple priests, and they do not gather in one house. But we have none other than one God, one Ark, one Torah, one altar, and one High Priest…

There is something particularly singular about the Jewish people. We are one house. We are a family. Let’s act like one.

The Names of the Torah’s Hidden Women

‘Shemot’ is also the name of the second book of the Torah, known in English as ‘Exodus’.

This week’s parasha, Shemot, literally means “names”. The Sages stress how important a name really is, so much so that the word shem and neshamah (“soul”) appear to share a root. The Talmud (Berakhot 7b) teaches that a person’s name affects their destiny, and changing one’s name can change one’s fate (Rosh Hashanah 16b). (Other things that can change one’s fate: moving to a new place, charity, prayer, and repentance.) The Zohar (II, 179b) further elaborates that the combinations of letters in a person’s name can reveal much about them.

Jewish tradition holds that an angel whispers a baby’s name to its parents. And yet, many Jews don’t have a Jewish name or don’t connect to their given name. Thus, the Arizal taught (Sha’ar HaGilgulim, ch. 23) that a person can have two names: a name from the side of kedushah, “holiness”, and a name from the side of kelipah, unholy “husks”. Meanwhile, the Midrash states that each person has three names: the name given by the parents, the common name (or nickname) called by close ones, and the name that a person acquires for himself. (The best of these, the Midrash concludes, is the name one makes for himself.)

The Midrash also states that Israel merited to be redeemed from Egypt because they preserved their Hebrew names, among other things.* Fittingly, Rav Yitzchak Ginsburgh points out that the midwives Shifrah and Puah ensured the survival of the Jewish babies, so the gematria of their names equals 746, the value of shemot (שמות).

Where Are The Women?

Clearly, names are very important. Yet, while the names of Shifrah and Puah are mentioned, the names of many other important female figures are not! The Talmud (Bava Batra 91a) is troubled by this, and even states that in those days people argued against the Torah’s authenticity by pointing out all those missing female names (especially because Judaism passes down through the mother). And so, the Talmud fills in the details and tells us some of these important names:

Rav Chanan bar Raba stated in the name of Rav: the mother of Abraham was Amatlai, the daughter of Karnevo [אמתלאי בת כרנבו]; the mother of Haman was Amatlai, the daughter of ‘Oravti [אמתלאי בת עורבתי]… The mother of David was Nitzevet, the daughter of Ada’el [נצבת בת עדאל]. The mother of Samson was Tzlelponit [צללפונית], and his sister was Nashyan [נשיין]…

What about the others? What was the name of Rachel and Leah’s mother? How about Lot’s salt-pillar-turning wife? The wife of Potiphar that tried so hard to seduce Joseph? It is said that one of the reasons Cain killed Abel is because of a dispute over a girl (see Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer, Ch. 21 or Beresheet Rabbah 22:7). What was her name? Luckily, other texts provide the answers.

Sefer HaYashar states that the mother of Rachel and Leah was called Adina (עדינה), while the wife of Potiphar was Zuleikha (זליכא). There are two main opinions as to the name of Lot’s wife: either Idit/Edith (עידית), according to sources like Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer (ch. 25), or Irit (עירית), according to the commentary of the Ramban (on Genesis 19:17).

Another great source for names is the apocryphal Book of Jubilees. Here (4:2) we learn that the name of Cain and Abel’s sister was Aven (און). In traditional Jewish texts, Cain was born with a twin sister and Abel was born with two twin sisters, whom they were meant to marry. Cain reasoned Abel’s second twin should be his wife since he was the elder, and the firstborn deserves a double-portion. Abel argued that if that was the case she would have been born alongside Cain! This was one of their major points of contention, leading to Cain’s murder of Abel. The Book of Jubilees says none of this, and holds that Cain killed Abel out of anger that God did not accept his offering.

The Book of Jubilees also states that Noah’s mother was called Bethnah (ביתנה), and his wife was Emtzarah (אמצרה). Meanwhile, the Midrash (Beresheet Rabbah 23:3) holds that Noah’s wife was Na’amah (נעמה), the sister of Tuval-Cain (Genesis 4:22). Interestingly, Jubilees gives us the name of Shem’s wife, too: Tzedeket-Levav (צדקת לבב). This is fitting, since Jewish tradition identifies Shem with Melchizedek. Interestingly, Jubilees states that all three of Noah’s sons built cities for themselves, and named the cities after their wives!

The Mothers of Israel

The Torah devotes quite a bit of attention to the Four Mothers of Israel (Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah), but what about the names of the wives of the Twelve Tribes? The Torah only mentions the wife of Joseph (Osnat) and passively mentions the wife of Judah, calling her the daughter of Shuah. Seder HaDorot states that her name was actually Eilat, and fills in the rest:

The wife of the elder Reuben was a Canaanite woman named Elyarem. Shimon’s wife—according to this particular text; there are other opinions—was his sister Dinah, the daughter of Leah. (The Midrash explains that Shimon had to marry her because he killed Shechem, whom she was meant to marry.) Levi married Adina, a descendent of Ever, one of the forefathers of Abraham. It seems Issachar married Adina’s sister, Arida.

Zevulun married a Midianite named Marusha, while Dan married a Moabite woman named Aflala. Naftali married Merimat, a distant cousin descended from Nachor, the brother of Abraham. Gad married her sister Utzit. Asher married a great-granddaughter of Ishmael named Adon, and after she passed away, married a woman named Hadurah. Benjamin had two wives: one called Machlat, and another Arvat, the granddaughter of Abraham from his later wife Keturah.

Each of these names certainly carries deep meaning, as do all names and appellations. Jewish texts call God by many different names and titles, each of which captures a different essence of God, and thereby helps us understand Him. Similarly, all of a person’s various names and titles combine to make up who they are.

To conclude with a famous story that illustrates this, it is said that a three-year old Tzemach Tzedek (the third rebbe of Chabad, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, 1789-1866) was once sitting on the lap of his grandfather, the Alter Rebbe (first rebbe of Chabad, Rabbi Schneur Zalman, 1745-1813). The Rebbe asked his grandson: “Where is grandpa?” The child quickly pointed to his grandpa’s head, to which the Rebbe said, “That’s just grandpa’s head! Where is grandpa?” The child tried again and again, pointing to other parts of the body to which the Rebbe similarly replied. Later on, the young Tzemach Tzedek was playing outside and called his grandfather. The Rebbe immediately hurried over to him, and the smiling child said: “There’s grandpa!”

The Alter Rebbe and the Tzemach Tzedek

*This is actually a problematic Midrash. Names like Aaron and Pinchas don’t seem to have a meaning in Hebrew but do in ancient Egyptian! Aaron is believed to come from the Egyptian aha rw, “warrior lion”, while Pinchas sounds like the common Egyptian name Pa-Nehasi, “the bronze one”. Thankfully, a variant Midrash preserves a different tradition. While Vayikra Rabbah (Ch. 32) states that Israel was redeemed on account of their names, language, abstaining from lashon hara and licentiousness, Pesikta Zutrata (on Ki Tavo, 46a) states that it was because of their clothing, food, and language.

Marriage and Prayer: Why They Are the Same, and How to Succeed in Both

This week’s parasha is Toldot, which begins:

And these are the genealogies [toldot] of Isaac, the son of Abraham; Abraham begot Isaac. And Isaac was forty years old when he took Rebecca… for a wife. And Isaac prayed to Hashem opposite his wife, because she was barren, and Hashem accepted his prayer, and Rebecca his wife conceived.

The Torah explicitly juxtaposes Isaac’s marriage to Rebecca with Isaac’s successful prayer. One of the Torah’s central principles of interpretation is that when two ideas or passages are placed side by side, there must be an intrinsic connection between them. What is the connection between marriage and prayer?

Another central principle of interpretation is that when a word or concept appears for the first time in the Torah, its context teaches the very epitome of that word or concept. The first time that the word “love” is used between a man and woman in the Torah is with regards to Isaac and Rebecca, and the two thus represent the perfect marital bond (a topic we’ve explored in the past; see: ‘Isaac and Rebecca: the Secret to Perfect Marriage’ in Garments of Light).

So, we see that Isaac and Rebecca were very successful in their love and marriage, and simultaneously very successful in their prayers. In fact, our Sages teach that when the Torah says “Isaac prayed… opposite his wife”, it means that the two prayed together in unison, and some even say they prayed while in a loving embrace, face-to-face, literally “opposite” one another. God immediately answered their prayers. What is the secret of Isaac and Rebecca’s success in love and prayer?

Understanding Prayer

It is commonly (and wrongly) believed that prayer is about asking God for things. Not surprisingly, many people give up on prayer when they feel (wrongly) that God is not answering them, and not fulfilling their heartfelt requests. In reality, prayer is something quite different.

A look through the text of Jewish prayers reveals that there is very little requesting at all. The vast majority of the text is made up of verses of praise, gratitude, and acknowledgement. We incessantly thank God for all that He does for us, and describe over and over again His greatness and kindness. It is only after a long time spent in gratitude and praise that we have the Amidah, when we silently request 19 things from God (and can add some extra personal wishes, too). Following this, we go back to praise and gratitude to conclude the prayers.

Many (rightly) ask: what is the point of this repetitive complimenting of God? Does He really need our flattery? The answer is, of course, no, an infinite God does not need any of it. So why do we do it?

One answer is that it is meant to build within us an appreciation of God; to remind us of all the good that He does for us daily, and to shift our mode of thinking into one of being positive and selfless. Through this, we build a stronger bond with God, and remain appreciative of that relationship.

The exact same is true in marriage. Many go into marriage with the mindset of what they can get out of it. They are in a state of always looking to receive from their spouse. Often, even though they do receive a great deal from their partner, they become accustomed to it, and forget all the good that comes out of being married. They stop appreciating each other so, naturally, the marriage stagnates and the couple drifts apart.

Such a mindset must be altered. The dialogue should be like that of prayer: mostly complimenting, acknowledging, and thanking, with only a little bit of request. The Torah tells us that God created marriage so that man is not alone and has a helper by his side. The Torah says helper, not caretaker. We should appreciate every little bit that our spouses do, for without them in our lives we would be totally alone and would not even have that little bit. The Talmud (Yevamot 62a) tells a famous story of Rabbi Chiya, whose wife constantly tormented him and yet, not only did he not divorce her, but he would always bring her the finest goods. His puzzled students questioned him on this, to which he responded: “It is enough that they rear our children and save us from sin.”

A Kind Word

By switching the dialogue to one of positive words and gratitude, we remain both appreciative of the relationship, and aware of how much good we do receive from our other halves. Moreover, such positive words naturally motivate the spouse to want to do more for us, while constant criticism brings about the very opposite result.

Similarly, our Sages teach that when we constantly praise God and speak positively of Him, it naturally stirs up His mercy, and this has the power to avert even the most severe decrees upon us. We specifically quote this from Jeremiah (31:17-19) in our High Holiday prayers:

I have surely heard Ephraim wailing… Ephraim is my precious child; a child of delight, for as soon as I speak of him, I surely remember him still, and My heart yearns for him. I will surely have compassion for Him—thus said Hashem.

Ephraim is one of the Biblical names for the children of Israel, especially referring to the wayward Israelite tribes of northern Israel. Despite the waywardness, Ephraim’s cries to God spark God’s compassion and love for His people.

A kind, endearing word can go very far in prayer, as in marriage. The same page of Talmud cited above continues to say that Rav Yehudah had a horrible wife, too, yet taught his son that a man “who finds a wife, finds happiness”. His son, Rabbi Isaac, questioned him about this, to which Rav Yehudah said that although Isaac’s mother “was indeed irascible, she could be easily appeased with a kindly word.”

Judging the Self

The Hebrew word for prayer l’hitpalel, literally means “to judge one’s self”. Prayer has a much deeper purpose: it is a time to meditate on one’s inner qualities, both positive and negative, and to do what’s sometimes called a cheshbon nefesh, an “accounting of the soul”. Prayer is meant to be an experience of self-discovery. A person should not just ask things of God, but question why they are asking this of God. Do you really need even more money? What would you do with it? Might it actually have negative consequences rather than positive ones? Would you spend it on another nice car, or donate it to a good cause? Why do you need good health? To have the strength for ever more sins, or so that you can fulfill more mitzvot? Do you want children for your own selfish reasons or, like Hannah, to raise tzadikim that will rectify the world and infuse it with more light and holiness?

Prayer is not simply for stating our requests, but analyzing and understanding them. Through proper prayer, we might come to the conclusion that our requests need to be modified, or sometimes annulled entirely. And when finally making a request, it is important to explain clearly why you need that particular thing, and what good will come out of it.

Central to this entire process is personal growth and self-development. In that meditative state, a person should be able to dig deep into their psyche, find their deepest flaws, and resolve to repair them. In the merit of this, God may grant the person’s request. To paraphrase our Sages (Avot 2:4), when we align our will with God’s will, then our wishes become one with His wishes, and our prayers are immediately fulfilled.

Once more, the same is true in marriage. Each partner must constantly judge their performance, and measure how good of a spouse they have been. What am I doing right and what am I doing wrong? Where can I improve? How can I make my spouse’s life easier today? Where can I be more supportive? What exactly do I need from my spouse and why? In the same way that we are meant to align our will with God’s will, we must also align our will with that of our spouse.

The Torah commands that a husband and wife must “cleave unto each other and become one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). The two halves of this one soul must reunite completely. This is what Isaac and Rebecca did, so much so that they even prayed as one. In fact, Isaac and Rebecca were the first to perfectly fulfil God’s command of becoming one, and this is hinted to in the fact that the gematria of “Isaac” (יצחק) and “Rebecca” (רבקה) is 515, equal to “one flesh” (בשר אחד). More amazing still, 515 is also the value of “prayer” (תפלה). The Torah itself makes it clear that marital union and prayer are intertwined.

One of the most popular Jewish prayers is “Nishmat Kol Chai”, recited each Shabbat right before the Shema and Amidah. The prayer ends with an acrostic that has the names of Isaac and Rebecca. The names are highlighted to remind us of proper prayer, and that first loving couple which personified it.


The last major aspect of Jewish prayer is confession. Following the verses of praise and the requests comes vidui, confessing one’s sins and genuinely regretting them. It is important to be honest with ourselves and admit when we are wrong. Among other things, this further instills within us a sense of humility. The Talmud (Sotah 5a) states with regards to a person who has an ego that God declares: “I and he cannot both dwell in the world.” God’s presence cannot be found around a proud person.

In marriage, too, ego has no place. It is of utmost significance to be honest and admit when we make mistakes. It is sometimes said that the three hardest words to utter are “I love you” and “I am sorry”. No matter how hard it might be, these words need to be a regular part of a healthy marriage’s vocabulary.

And more than just saying sorry, confession means being totally open in the relationship. There should not be secrets or surprises. As we say in our prayers, God examines the inner recesses of our hearts, and a couple must likewise know each other’s deepest crevices, for this is what it means to be one. In place of surreptitiousness and cryptic language, there must be a clear channel of communication that is always wide open and free of obstructions.

To summarize, successful prayer requires first and foremost a great deal of positive, praising, grateful language, as does any marriage. Prayer also requires, like marriage, a tremendous amount of self-analysis, self-discovery, and growth. And finally, both prayer and marriage require unfailing honesty, open communication, and forgiveness. In prayer, we make God the centre of our universe. In marriage we make our spouse the centre of our universe. In both, the result is that we ultimately become the centre of their universe, and thus we become, truly, one.

The Names and Divisions of Angels

This week we commence the third book of the Torah, Vayikra (known in English as “Leviticus”). The Zohar begins its commentary on this section by reminding us that the ancient generations—even the lowest and most wicked among them—knew the secrets of the Hebrew alphabet and their permutations. Unfortunately, they sometimes used this knowledge to control angelic forces towards evil ends.

Mystical texts describe how angels are formed from God’s speech, and the different combinations of letters of their names give them their powers. The Arizal explains that this is the meaning of Psalms 33:6, “By the word of Hashem the Heavens were made, and by the breath of His mouth all their legions.” He further explains that this is the meaning behind the perplexing words in Exodus 20:14, where the Israelites apparently “saw” God’s voice at Mt. Sinai (וכל העם ראים את הקולת). The Arizal tells us what they saw were the angels emanating from God’s voice.

Elsewhere, the Arizal writes that starting in the generation of Enosh (the grandson of Adam), people began manipulating the divine names of angels to suit their own selfish, unholy desires. This is the meaning of Genesis 4:26, “And to Seth was also born a son, and he named him Enosh. It was then that God’s Name began to be profaned.” Rashi famously comments here that in Enosh’s generation idolatry emerged. The Arizal explains that it began with the manipulation of God’s ministering angels through their names.

‘Turris Babel’ by Athanasius Kircher

In fact, this is how the Tower of Babel was built. Moreover, the aim of its power-hungry builders was to move beyond angels and learn how to manipulate God Himself! The Torah introduces the passage by saying the Tower generation were “one people with one language” (Genesis 11:1). The Ba’al HaTurim points out that the term “one language” (שפה אחת) has the same gematria as “holy tongue” (לשון הקדש), since the people were experts in the mystical wisdom of Hebrew, the language with which God created the universe, and through which God’s angels emanate. Not surprisingly, the punishment of the Tower builders was to have their language confounded. Their knowledge of Hebrew was taken away, replaced with countless new tongues and dialects.

The Meaning of Vayikra

The Zohar’s commentary on this week’s parasha continues by explaining the meaning of the word Vayikra. This word symbolizes God’s primary legion of angels, the one that descended upon the Tent of Meeting together with the Clouds of Glory that rested upon it (Exodus 40:35). The Zohar says the Cloud was actually meant to conceal these angels.

The commanding “general” of this legion is the angel Michael (מיכאל). Below him, his chief officer is called Tzadkiel (צדקיאל). Tzadkiel stands over three “colonels”, each with a “lieutenant” angel, surrounding by twelve ministering angels (three on each of the four sides). The names of the three pairs are Kdumiel (קדומיאל) and Ariel (אריאל), Yofiel (יופיאל) and Chakhamiel (חכמיאל), and Raziel (רזיאל) and Rumiel (רומיאל). The source of their angelic glow is the letter Vav, which emanates from the inner Holy of Holies. Guarding the Holy is Kdumiel’s division, shining with the letter Yud. Before him is Yofiel’s division, shining with the letter Kuf; then Raziel’s with the letter Reish, and finally Tzadkiel with the letter Aleph. This order of letters spells Vayikra (ויקרא).

The Zohar goes on to explain the divisions of the second camp of angels that parallel this first camp. While the first is under the command of Michael, the second is under the command of his counterpart Gabriel (גבריאל). His subordinates are Chizkiel (חזקיאל), and under him are Gazriel (גזריאל) with his twelve angels, then Rahatiel (רהטיאל) and Kadshiel (קדשיאל) with their twelve, Kaftziel (קפציאל) and Aza’el* (עזאל) with their twelve, as well as the twelve around Shmiel (שמעיאל) and Ragshiel (רגשיאל), who move between the camps of Michael and Gabriel.

Altogether, these camps are symbolized by the letters of vayikra. The parasha begins with the words Vayikra el Moshe, “And He called unto Moses”. The Zohar suggests that when God called out to him, Moses saw a vision of all these angels in their divisions. Moses was entrusted with the wisdom of their names and powers—information that had been kept secret since the Great Dispersion and confounding of languages that followed the Tower episode.


The root of vayikra means to “call out” or to “name”, as the angels are brought into existence through God “calling” them forth and naming them with their task. It is not a coincidence that the term vayikra appears in Genesis 4:26, cited above, where we are told the names of angels began to be manipulated.

In total, the term vayikra appears 90 times in the Torah. Meanwhile, the gematria of the word “angel” (מלאך) is 91. The Kabbalists teach that when the value of a word is one more than another, this progression of numbers suggests that the former emanates from the latter. Indeed, we see how angels (91) emanate from God’s call, vayikra (90).

Of course, God is the Commander-in-Chief of all His legions (“Hashem Tzevaot”). He is most commonly referred to as the King, and this is how the angels address Him. The value of “king” (מלך) is also 90. This should remind us that while we read of angelic generals, colonels, and lieutenants, we must never forget Who is really in charge.

*Multiple Jewish texts identify Aza’el with a fallen angel (see our previous post here). The Talmud, among other sources, says that Aza’el never repented and remained chained in this physical world, hence the ritual of sending a goat to “Azazel”. If that is the case, how could he be one of the important angels listed above?

A careful reading of the Zohar shows that the angel Gazriel stands alone without a partner. All the other angels are paired. (Michael-Tzadkiel, Kdumiel-Ariel, Yofiel-Chakhamiel, Raziel-Rumiel, Gabriel-Chizkiel, Rahatiel-Kadshiel, Shmiel-Ragshiel.) Kaftziel is paired with Aza’el. Perhaps Aza’el was initially placed within this legion, but after his fall, Gazriel took his place.

This actually results in a much more balanced symmetry to the camps, as follows:

Secrets for Living a Long Life

This week’s parasha is Ekev, continuing Moses’ final speech to the nation in the last 37 days of his life. In this parasha we find the second paragraph of the Shema. This paragraph ends by stating:

And you shall place these words of Mine upon your heart and upon your soul, and bind them for a sign upon your hand and they shall be for ornaments between your eyes. And you shall teach them to your children to speak with them, when you sit in your house and when you walk on the way and when you lie down and when you rise. And you shall inscribe them upon the doorposts of your house and upon your gates, in order that your days may increase and the days of your children…

The passage tells us to meditate upon God’s Word constantly, to never cease learning Torah, and teaching Torah. It tells us to place these wise words upon our hearts and souls, our arms and between our eyes, and onto our doorposts. It concludes by saying that doing so will lengthen the days of one’s life, and the lives of one’s children. God guarantees that persistent study and contemplation will lead to longevity.

Indeed, throughout history we see how our greatest Sages lived very long lives. Some of the earliest rabbis – Hillel, Yochanan ben Zakkai, Akiva – lived to 120 years, like several prophets before them, including Moses and Isaiah. In more recent times, the Lubavitcher Rebbe lived to 92 years, Rav Ovadia Yosef to 93, Rav Elyashiv to 102, and Rav Yitzchak Kaduri to 103 years – and some say 118!

The world-renowned Jewish neurologist Rita Levi-Montalcini said the secret to longevity is “minimal sleep, limited food intake, and always keeping the brain active and interested.” She would know: in addition to being one of the top scientists in the world, she was the first (and so far only) Nobel Prize winner to live over 100 years. Before calmly passing away from natural causes at 103, she still worked in her lab and served on the Italian senate! Her formula for longevity – little sleep, little food, and most importantly, busy brain – is probably true of every great rabbi in Jewish history.

Long before, the wise King Solomon taught the same thing in the ninth chapter of his Book of Proverbs. In this chapter, Solomon personifies Wisdom. He begins by saying that “Wisdom has built her house, hewing out her seven pillars.” He goes on to say that the First Wisdom is “awe of God” and “knowledge of holy things”. Simply collecting information in one’s brain is not enough; one must also be a righteous and Godly individual. A scorner or a proud person can never be truly wise, for such a person hates to be criticised, and will grow little. The real wise person is the one who loves those who critique and reprove him. “Teach the righteous, and he will increase in learning.” Ultimately, the pursuit of wisdom is the path to longevity, “For through me your days will be multiplied, and years of life will be added to you” (Proverbs 9:11).

Seven Pillars of Wisdom

1896 Illustration of King Solomon Drafting the First Temple

1896 Illustration of King Solomon Drafting the First Temple

King Solomon tells us that wisdom has seven pillars. He seems to identify the first of these pillars as being the study of God, holiness, and spiritual matters – in other words, Torah study. What about the other six branches of wisdom? What other studies are worth pursuing? While King Solomon does not explicitly say what they are, a later Kabbalistic text called Kol HaTor does describe them in its Sha’ar Be’er Sheva: mathematics, medicine, grammar, music, and three more that are described as “formations and syntheses”, “repair and integration”, and “how the physical interacts with the spiritual”. The last of these is clearly related to King Solomon’s First Wisdom (others say it is psychology, the study of the mind, which bridges the physical and the spiritual); the other two might be referring to general science (how things form) and perhaps mechanics or engineering.

Unfortunately, Kol HaTor is a very controversial text. It is supposed to be based on the teachings of the Vilna Gaon, but many reject this claim, especially because the book was only published in the last century. More problematic still is that the section called Sha’ar Be’er Sheva (which describes the seven wisdoms) is omitted from many manuscripts because it encourages the study of non-Torah subjects – something the ultra-Orthodox world is typically not fond of.

In any case, we see that the seven pillars of wisdom according to Kol HaTor actually resemble the classical branches of study at some of the earliest universities in Medieval times. These are often referred to as the “seven liberal arts”, and are comprised of three “humanities” and four “scientific arts”. The three humanities, consisting of logic, grammar, and rhetoric, were studied first. Once a person had a good grasp of these three, they moved on to study the more complicated scientific arts of music, arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy. The first three were known as the trivium, and the next four as the quadrivium. Interestingly, this is actually the origin of the English term for something being trivial, meaning very basic or unimportant, since the trivium consisted of basic entry-level subjects while the quadrivium was more advanced study.

Nests and Parents

The Torah mentions longevity with respect to two more specific mitzvot. The first is to honour one’s parents (Exodus 20:11 and Deuteronomy 5:15), and the second is known as shiluach haken, “sending away the mother bird” from its nest (Deuteronomy 22:7). The latter mitzvah applies if one happens upon a bird’s nest and wants to consume its eggs (or chicks).* The person should shoo away the mother bird first so that it does not see its offspring taken away. This is a clear sign of compassion on the parent bird. In this regard, the two mitzvot which promise longevity are actually related, both having to do with compassion and respect for parents.

If the “First Wisdom” is awe and fear of God, we can understand how respecting parents ties into it. The Ten Commandments were given on Two Tablets: the first listing five commands between God and man, and the second listing five commands between man and man. Honouring one’s parents is on the first tablet, and is considered a mitzvah not between man and man (as one would naturally assume) but between man and God! After all, the Talmud tells us there are three partners in the creation of a person: mother, father, and God. Disrespecting one’s parents is therefore akin to disrespecting God.

A Scientific Look at Longevity

Several years ago, the National Geographic Society backed a project (led by Dan Buettner) to identify and study the world’s “blue zones” – regions where people live the longest. They found a number of places where people regularly live well into their nineties and hundreds, and in good health, too. After studying these populations, they came to a number of conclusions as to how to increase longevity. The first was to do lots of natural exercise, ie. not going to the gym and pumping iron, but simply being active within one’s daily routine. They confirmed the importance of not overeating (phrasing it as the “80% rule”) and to consume more natural, plant-based foods as opposed to processed or meat-based ones.

All of these echo the Rambam’s teachings hundreds of years ago (Hilkhot De’ot 4:2, 14-15):

“A person should not eat until his stomach is full, rather he should stop about a quarter before he is filled… Overeating is to the body of a person like a poison, and it is the source of all sicknesses. The majority of sicknesses come upon a person either from eating bad foods or from filling the stomach and overeating, even with good foods…

“As long as a person exercises and exerts himself a lot, takes care not to eat to the point of being completely full, and keeps his bowels soft, illness will not come upon him and his strength will increase. And whoever sits comfortably and takes no exercise, even if he eats all the best foods and follows healthcare principles in other areas of his life, all his days will be full of pain and his strength will decline.”

Amazingly, the Blue Zone project also showed how huge of an impact religion and community has on longevity. They found that “belonging to a faith-based community” and going to a religious gathering at least once a week for prayer and connection added as much as fourteen years to one’s life! (See Dan Buettner’s full talk on longevity here).

Seven Pillars of Longevity

All of the above information can be neatly summed up in seven key points for living a long life. (1) Keeping the body naturally active, and (2) keeping the brain active and engaged. The study of spiritual matters takes priority, followed by subjects like math, music, and language arts. (3) Keep junk foods and processed foods to a minimum, and avoid overeating. (4) Be a part of a faith-based community, and (5) pray and meditate regularly. (6) Make sure to honour and respect parents, and (7) maintain an attitude of calm, compassion, and kindness in place of stress, anger, and selfishness.

The Blue Zone project narrows it down even further into four key points: have the “right outlook, move naturally, eat wisely, and belong”. Their website has a fun “age calculator” that estimates what your “biological age” is, your life expectancy, and how many extra years you’ve added (or lost) based on your habits.

Ultimately, if all else fails, the Torah mentions longevity four more times. In addition to the four explored above (two for honouring parents, one for the bird’s nest, and one for meditating on God’s Word), there are four that speak in general terms, promising long life for being attached to God and following His ways. This resonates with King Solomon’s final piece of advice in Ecclesiastes:

“The end of the matter, all having been heard: revere God, and keep His commandments; for this is the whole man.”

(Courtesy: ImmuneTree.com)

(Courtesy: ImmuneTree.com)


*It is important to note that, for some reason, it has become popular to believe that one needs to shoo away the mother bird of a nest even if a person does not need the eggs. Somehow, sending away the mother and taking the eggs is an “illogical mitzvah” that needs to be fulfilled. Such an interpretation is silly. The whole point is to have compassion on the mother bird. How would taking her eggs when there is no need for the eggs be compassionate? That would just be cruel! The Rambam writes that in most cases, this mitzvah is not going to be fulfilled since most birds and their eggs are not kosher – so why would anyone ever destroy a nest for no reason? See, for example, Moreh Nevuchim, III, 38:

“In most cases, this commandment will cause man to leave the whole nest untouched, because [the eggs] which he is allowed to take are, as a rule, unfit for food.”

A deeper analysis of shiluach haken can be found here.