Tag Archives: Miriam

Secrets of the Pesach Seder Plate

This Friday evening marks the start of Passover. At the Passover seder, it is customary to have a plate upon which all the symbolic Passover foods are placed. According to one arrangement, on the top right we place the zeroa bone; parallel to it on the left is an egg; then the maror (bitter herb) in the centre; the sweet charoset on the bottom right, opposite the karpas vegetable; and in the bottom centre the chazeret, horseradish or another serving of maror (which is used in the korech “sandwich”). In addition, we have three matzahs and the cup of wine, to be filled four times. What is the significance of these Pesach elements?

The zeroa represents the fact that God took us out of Egypt “with an outstretched arm” (b’zeroa netuya), as the Torah states. It also represents the korban pesach, the Pesach offering that would be brought and consumed in the days of the Temple. For this reason, it is best to have a zeroa from a lamb shank, since the Pesach offering was a lamb. The lamb itself was in commemoration of the fact that the Israelites smeared the blood of the lamb on their doorposts on the eve of their Exodus, to protect their homes from the tenth and final plague. It was a lamb in particular because the astrological sign for the month of Nisan is Aries, a ram or sheep. This is tied to Egyptian idolatry, where a number of Egyptian gods were depicted as ram-headed, or with the horns of a ram, including Khnum and Osiris. The slaughter of a lamb was thus symbolic of destroying the idols of Egypt, like the Ten Plagues themselves (see ‘The Ten Plagues: Destroying the Idols of Egypt’ in Garments of Light).

The egg symbolizes another offering brought on Passover: the chagigah, or holiday offering. This was the standard offering brought on all festivals in the days of the Temple. The reason that it is specifically an egg is because a whole egg is one of the foods traditionally consumed by mourners. (The round egg represents the cycle of life.) In this case, the egg is a symbol of mourning for the destruction of the Temple. Intriguingly, Rav Sherira Gaon (d. 1006) wrote how it is customary to eat meat, fish, and egg at the Pesach seder to represent the foods that will be eaten in the End of Days at the Feast of Mashiach. According to the Midrash, in that time the righteous will eat the fishy flesh of Leviathan, that great sea-dragon that Mashiach will slay; as well as the meat of the beast called Behemoth; and the egg of the mythical bird Ziz. So, eating an egg at the Pesach meal is symbolic of that future messianic feast.

‘Destruction of Leviathan’ by Gustav Doré

The maror famously represents the bitter oppression of the Jews, just as the Torah states that the Egyptians “embittered” (v’imareru) the lives of the Jews with mortar and brick, and hard labour (Exodus 1:14). The need to eat maror actually comes explicitly from the Torah, which commands that Jews should eat the Pesach offering together with matzah and bitter herbs (Exodus 12:8). The Mishnah (Pesachim 2:6) lists five possible maror herbs, though their identity is not entirely clear. The only one that appears to be undisputed is lettuce, and hence it is lettuce that is used for maror in Sephardic communities. Another possibility is that maror is horseradish—not the mustard-like sauce but an actual horseradish root (since maror must be a raw vegetable, as the Shulkhan Aruch states in Orach Chaim 473:5). There are other traditions for maror’s identity as well.

Interestingly, the Midrash states that the consumption of maror on Pesach is one of the few things King Solomon did not understand! In Proverbs 30:18, Solomon wrote that “Three things are wondrous to me and four I do not know.” Although the passage continues to state what it is that Solomon wondered about, the Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 30:14) has an alternate explanation: The three things wondrous to Solomon were the Pesach offering, matzah, and maror; and the four he didn’t know were the mysteries behind the four species of Sukkot!

The Mystery of Karpas and Charoset

The maror is dipped into the sweet charoset. This paste is meant to resemble the clay mortar that the Israelites used, or the mud that was baked into clay bricks. The word charoset comes from cheres, “clay”. There are vastly different traditions as to the ingredients of charoset. One tradition is to use the fruits mentioned in Shir HaShirim, the Song of Songs, among them: apples (2:3), figs (2:13), nuts (6:11), dates (7:7), wine (1:2), and cinnamon (4:14). The romantic lyrics of the Song are interpreted as an allegorical “love story” between God and Israel, and the fruits are used throughout the text in metaphorical fashion to describe that passionate love. It is particularly appropriate to use the Song of Songs recipe since it is customary to read the Song of Songs on the holiday of Pesach. (There are five megillot, “scrolls”, in the Tanakh, and each is read on a particular holiday: Shir HaShirim on Passover, Ruth on Shavuot, Eichah on Tisha b’Av, Kohelet on Sukkot, and Esther on Purim.)

Some have pointed out that charoset may have a Greek origin, as it was common to eat fruit and nut mixtures in the Greek symposia, which the Pesach seder might be loosely modelled on. Similarly, karpas has a Greek etymology (as does afikoman) and means “vegetable”. This vegetable can be celery, parsley, water cress, green onion, or even boiled potato. It is commonly said that the karpas symbolizes, once again, the difficult labour of the Jews. In the word karpas (כרפס) appear the letters פ-ר-כ, as in the Torah’s statement that the Egyptians worked the Israelites בפרך, b’farekh (Exodus 1:13), exceedingly hard. It is customary to dip the karpas in salt water, which represents the tears of the Israelites.

Having said that, there may be a better explanation for the karpas, and its secret lies in an alternate custom to dip it not in salt water, but in wine vinegar. The Hebrew word karpas (כרפס) actually appears in one place in the Tanakh. This is in Esther 1:6, amidst a description of the feast of King Ahashverosh, where his palace was draped with chur karpas u’tekhelet (חור כרפס ותכלת), “white linen and blue thread”. So, while the Greek karpos means “vegetable”, the Hebrew karpas means “linen” or “fabric”. Dipping the karpas in wine vinegar is therefore like dipping clothing in blood, symbolizing the tunic of Joseph which his brothers dipped in blood and presented to their father Jacob. It was that act which sparked the sequence of events leading to the Israelites descent to Egypt, and their ultimate enslavement.

The sixth spot on the seder plate is sometimes missing altogether, and other times holds horseradish (sometimes the creamy kind), salt water (for dipping karpas), or another serving of maror which is used in the korech, the “sandwich” made up of matzah, charoset, and maror. As the Haggadah states, this was the custom of the great Hillel, who used to make such a sandwich to literally fulfil the word of the Torah to eat the Pesach offering together with matzah and bitter herbs.

In addition to the plate, we have three matzahs. These symbolize the three patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—as well as the three divisions of the Jewish nation—Kohen, Levi, and Israel. (We have explored in the past why it is the middle matzah, corresponding to Isaac, that is broken in half.) They can also be said to symbolize the three siblings who led the Exodus: Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.

The Four Cups

The four cups of wine symbolize the four expressions of salvation that the Torah uses (Exodus 6:6-8) in describing the Exodus:

I am Hashem, and I will [1] bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and [2] I will deliver you from their bondage, and [3] I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, and with great judgments; and [4] I will take you to Me for a people, and I will be to you a God; and you shall know that I am Hashem your God, who brought you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians. And I will bring you to the land, concerning which I lifted up My hand to give it to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob; and I will give it you for a heritage: I am Hashem.

We see a fifth expression here, too—“and I will bring you to the land…” This is why we do pour a fifth cup, but we do not drink it. It is left for the prophet-turned-angel Eliyahu. In the Talmud, it is common for the rabbis to leave an unsettled debate “for Eliyahu”, who will come in the Messianic days and finally resolve all the Talmudic disputes. Since there is a debate whether to drink four or five cups of wine on Pesach (based on a variant text in Pesachim 118a), we drink four and leave a fifth “for Eliyahu”. The deeper meaning behind the debate here is whether our salvation is complete or not. Although we were taken out of Egypt, Jews have continued to experience oppression for centuries ever since. We will not be totally redeemed until the coming of Mashiach. Our presence in the Holy Land will not be secured until then either. This is why the fifth cup is for Eliyahu, who is the harbinger of Mashiach.

It has also been pointed out that in Genesis 40:11-13, Pharaoh’s cupbearer mentions a cup four times in his dream. Joseph interpreted the cupbearer’s dream in the positive, and prophesied that he shall return to his position, while the Pharaoh’s baker would be put to death. Joseph asked the cupbearer that he remember Joseph and help to get him out of his imprisonment. Although the cupbearer forget all about Joseph, he later remembered the young dream interpreter when the Pharaoh’s own dream was inexplicable. This led to Joseph’s release from prison, his ascent to Egyptian royalty, and the eventual settlement of his family in Egypt, leading to their enslavement. So, the dream of the “four cups” sets in motion the events that lead to Israel’s descent to Egypt.

Likewise, when Joseph tests his siblings and places his special goblet in the bag of Benjamin (Genesis 44), the word “goblet” is mentioned four times. Better yet, the numerical value of “goblet” (גביע) is equal to the value of “cup” (כוס) when including the kollel. And the value of “cup” (כוס) itself is 86, which is the number of years that Israel was enslaved. (Israel was in Egypt a total of 210 years, of which the first 94 were peaceful. Then came 30 years of persecution, followed by 86 years of hard slavery. For a detailed analysis see ‘How Long Were the Israelites Actually in Egypt?’)

Some say the four cups parallel the four types of kelipah, the impure “husks” in Creation. Kabbalistic texts often speak of Pharaoh as the ultimate force of kelipah. It just so happens that the Torah speaks of four pharaohs altogether: the first Pharaoh was the one Abraham encountered upon his descent to Egypt; the second was the one that took Joseph out of prison and appointed him viceroy; the third was the wicked one who enslaved Israel and later decreed the drowning of the Israelite babies; and the fourth is the pharaoh at the time of the Exodus.

Yet another explanation is that the four cups correspond to the four exiles of Israel: the Babylonian, the Persian, the Greek, and the Roman. Just as we were redeemed from the oppression of Egypt, we were redeemed from the future exiles (awaiting the final redemption). Appropriately, the Arizal taught that Egypt was the root of all future exiles (Sha’ar HaMitzvot on Re’eh). Similarly, the Talmud and Midrash state (based on Exodus 14:13-14) that the Jews split into four groups when trapped between the Red Sea on one side and the approaching Egyptians on the other. There were those that lost all hope and wanted to surrender, and those that wanted to kill themselves rather than surrender; those that wished to arm themselves and fight the Egyptians, and those that simply prayed to God for salvation. Regardless of their faith or faithlessness, God saved all four groups of Jews, and we drink four cups in commemoration.

Lastly, if the three matzahs parallel the three patriarchs of Israel, then the four cups can be said to parallel the four matriarchs: Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah. After all, the Talmud (Sotah 11b) states that “As the reward for the righteous women who lived in that generation were the Israelites delivered from Egypt.”

Sefirot of the Seder Plate

Etz Chaim, the Kabbalistic “Tree of Life”

The Arizal arranged his seder plate according to the mystical Tree of Life that depicts the Ten Sefirot. The zeroa is in the top right because this is the position of Chessed, kindness, as it represents God’s compassion in taking us out of Egypt. The egg is in the position of Gevurah, or Din, strict judgement and restraint, since it represents mourning the Temple’s destruction. (Another symbolic explanation for the egg is that it represents the Jewish people: just as an egg gets harder the more it is boiled so, too, does the Jewish nation only grow stronger the more we are “boiled” and oppressed.) The all-important maror is in the central sefirah of Tiferet, balance and truth.

The sefirot of Netzach and Hod (paralleling the legs) are charoset and karpas, symbolizing our difficult labour. The salt water, chazeret, or additional maror below is for Yesod. Finally, the plate itself is Malkhut, since Malkhut is the receptacle for all the sefirot above, just as the plate holds all the foods. Alternatively, Malkhut may correspond to the cup of wine.

Finally, at the top are the three matzot, corresponding to the upper three mochin of Chokhmah, Binah, and Da’at (or Keter). This reveals a deeper secret as to why we break the middle matzah into two halves. The middle matzah is the middle sefirah of Binah, which actually has two aspects: Binah and Tevunah. While “Binah” is simply understanding a matter, “Tevunah” is internalizing that information more deeply. Tevunah is engraving that understanding into one’s mind, and it leads to being able to apply that knowledge in real world situations. Thus, we end the seder with the consumption of the afikoman—the Tevunah half—as we wish to not only understand what was discussed at the seder, but to internalize it on the deepest of levels.

Chag Sameach!

Embracing Converts, and the Seeds of Amalek

'The Meeting of Jacob and Esau' by Gustav Doré

‘The Meeting of Jacob and Esau’ by Gustav Doré

This week’s parasha is Vayishlach, which recounts Jacob’s return and settlement in the Holy Land after twenty years of living in Charan. At the end of the parasha is a long list of the genealogies of Jacob’s brother, Esau. The list seems unnecessary, and many Sages have wondered why the Torah bothers to spend so much time recounting Esau’s descendants. There have even been debates on whether the entire text of the Torah is equally holy, or if passages like the Ten Commandments are holier than passages such as this list of Esau’s genealogies. Meanwhile, the Arizal states that many of the deepest secrets of Creation are embedded particularly in this seemingly boring and superfluous passage. He draws particular significance from the list of the kings of Edom. The Arizal says these kings are codenames for the Sefirot, and a careful reading of the text reveals the cosmological rectifications (tikkunim) required to repair all of Creation and restore the world to perfection.

About half way through the list we are told that “… the sister of Lotan was Timna” (Genesis 36:22). Again, the Sages are baffled at this extra addition. We already care little enough that there was once an Edomite chief named Lotan – who cares that he had a sister named Timna? The Talmud (Sanhedrin 99b) notes how there were those who scoffed at such verses, saying: “Did Moses have nothing better to write?” And then, the same page of Talmud comes in to explain its tremendous significance:

Timna was a royal princess… Desiring to become a proselyte, she went to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but they did not accept her. So she went and became a concubine to Eliphaz the son of Esau, saying, “I’d rather be a servant to this people than a mistress of another nation.” From her, Amalek was descended, who afflicted Israel. Why so? Because they should not have repulsed her!

The Talmud combines the verse in question – which states that Timna was the royal sister of the chief, or prince, Lotan – with an earlier verse (36:12) that says she married Esau’s son Eliphaz and bore Amalek. She wished to convert to Judaism and approached the Patriarchs. All three rebuffed her. So, she ended up with Eliphaz – the closest she could get to being part of the nation. This union gave rise to the evil Amalek, that antagonizing force which has been oppressing Israel for millennia. The Sages state that the Patriarchs should have embraced this potential convert, instead of pushing her away. Their failure to open their arms led to centuries of Jewish suffering. The Talmud sends a pretty clear message: gentiles and converts should not be turned away, and doing so only breeds more resentment against Jews, bringing out all of the world’s “Amaleks”.

Soulmates of Jacob and Moses

The Arizal comments on the Timna passage and points out something even more amazing. He taught (Sha’ar HaMitzvot, Shoftim) that Timna was actually the soulmate of Jacob! Timna contained a great deal of holiness, and Jacob was meant to convert her and marry her, thereby elevating her spiritual sparks. That would have been a massive tikkun of its own, and would have hastened the coming of Mashiach. Instead, Jacob rejected her, and she went on to produce Amalek, bringing evermore evil into the world, and further delaying the coming of Mashiach.

The Arizal highlights that Moses made a similar mistake in not consummating his marriage to the Cushite (Ethiopian) woman. Both Tzipporah and the Cushite woman were Moses’ soulmates, and while Moses did the right thing in converting the Cushite, he never properly married her. Her sparks of holiness were not fully elevated, and the tikkun was left incomplete. This is why Aaron and Miriam were upset with their brother, as we read later in Numbers 12:1, “And Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married…”

Rabbi Akiva’s 24,000 Students in Shechem

In this week’s parasha, too, we read how the people of Shechem genuinely wished to unite with Jacob’s family, agreed to circumcise themselves, and converted en masse. However, Jacob’s sons Shimon and Levi rejected them and resorted to violence in avenging what was done to their sister Dinah. Jacob was horrified at the actions of his sons, and later did not bless the two on his deathbed. It appears their sin was never forgiven, as hundreds of years later the tribes of Shimon and Levi were not given set borders within the Holy Land, but only a handful of cities interspersed among the other tribes. Kabbalistic texts reveal that Shimon and Levi killed 24,000 people in Shechem, and these 24,000 converted souls later reincarnated as the 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva!

All of these narratives point to the same lesson: converts should be welcomed and accepted wholeheartedly. They have the potential for great holiness. The Talmud (Bava Kamma 38a) states that a gentile who occupies himself with Torah is equal to a kohen gadol, a High Priest! The Arizal describes five types of Jewish souls, and the souls of converts are among the purest. (The other types are “Old Souls”, “New Souls”, “True New Souls”, and the “Souls of Cain and Abel”. Of these, the most impure are Old Souls.) It goes without saying that there is no place for racism of any kind within Judaism – Moses himself married a black woman, and was reprimanded for not being diligent in consummating that union.

Historically, Jews were never the proselytizing kind. There are no Jewish missionaries that go out knocking on the doors of gentiles to seek converts. At the same time, Judaism was rarely a popular religion to convert in to. But this will change very soon, and we have to be ready for that day, for the prophet Zechariah (8:23) predicted:

It shall come to pass that ten men shall take hold – from all the languages of the nations – shall take hold of the corners of a Jew’s clothes, saying: “We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you…”

Who Was Miriam the Prophetess, and What Did She Prophesy?  

This week’s parasha is Chukat, in which we read of the passing of Miriam, the older sister of Moses. The Talmud (Megillah 14a) lists Miriam as one of the seven major female prophetesses of Israel, and also states that she was so righteous that the Israelites had water for forty years in the Wilderness in her merit (Taanit 9a). Who was Miriam, why was she so great, and what exactly did she prophesy?

Bitterness in Egypt

'Departure of the Israelites' by David Roberts 1829

‘Departure of the Israelites’ by David Roberts 1829

The Israelites spent a total of 210 years in Egypt. This duration was prophetically hinted to by Jacob himself when he told his children to descend to Egypt (Genesis 42:2), where the numerical value of the word “descend” (רדו) is 210. While the sons of Jacob were still alive, the extended family was treated well by the Egyptians. After their passing, and as the family multiplied to ever greater numbers, persecution of the Jews began. These decrees started 94 years after the Israelites arrived in Egypt (or 116 years before the Exodus). Thirty years later, the Israelites were officially enslaved. That year – 86 years before the Exodus – was when Miriam, the firstborn daughter of Amram and Yocheved, was born. Not surprisingly, her parents named her Miriam, which literally means “double bitterness”, or “very bitter”.

It is important to point out that people often mistakenly think the Israelites were slaves in Egypt for 400 years. The correct number is 86 years. This, too, has a numerical hint in that we drink four cups of wine on Pesach, and the gematria of “cup” (כוס) is 86. At the end, we pour a fifth cup that is not drunk, and altogether the five cups (5 × 86) make 430, which is the time elapsed since God decreed the Israelite sojourn in Egypt.

Birth of a Prophet

Six years after the slavery began, the Egyptians noted that the Israelite population continued to miraculously flourish. It was then that Pharaoh decreed the male-born be drowned in the Nile. Amram and Yocheved, along with many other couples, decided to separate to prevent bringing more children into the world, lest they be murdered. At this point, Miriam stepped in and told her parents: “Your decree is harsher than Pharaoh’s. Whereas Pharaoh decreed against the males, you have done so against the females as well” (Rashi on Exodus 2:1). It was then that Miriam had her first prophecy, aged just six years: “My mother is destined to bear a son who will save Israel” (Megillah 14a). And so, Amram remarried Yocheved and she had Moses, who did indeed go on to save Israel.

The Talmud further explains that this is why Exodus 15:20 describes her as “Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron.” Why did the Torah not say “the sister of Moses” or “the sister of Aaron and Moses”? This is because when she had made her first prophecy, and received the status of a prophet, she was only the sister of Aaron, since Moses had yet to be born!

Prophecy for the Distant Future

Exodus 15:20 is the only place in all of scripture where Miriam is described directly as a prophetess. The Kli Yakar comments here that Miriam prophesied once more during the “Song of the Sea” following the Exodus. The Torah describes how she called out to the other women to continue singing, after the men had finished doing so. Miriam used the masculine term “lahem” in place of the feminine “lahen”.

The Kli Yakar explains that in this current world women have often been oppressed, disadvantaged, and generally treated as second-class citizens compared to their male counterparts (this was especially true in his day, having lived 1550-1619 CE). What Miriam prophesied is that a time would come when women would finally be equal to men in all ways, hence the use of the masculine lahem. (For a more in-depth analysis of this, read The Moon’s Lost Light, by Devorah Heshelis.)

Mother of Royalty

The Torah writes how two midwives delivered the Israelite babies in Egypt, and refused to follow Pharaoh’s decree of killing the male-born. The midwives’ names were Shifrah and Puah (Exodus 1:15). The Sages state that they were none other than Yocheved and her daughter Miriam, who were called Shifrah and Puah because they beautified (meshaper) the newborns and soothed (po’ah) them. Amazingly, archaeologists discovered an ancient Egyptian papyrus that mentions a woman named Shifrah among a list of slaves during the time of Pharaoh Sobekhotep III, who reigned not too long before the estimated time of the Exodus. (The papyrus is currently at the Brooklyn Museum.)

In addition to Puah, the Midrash (Shemot Rabbah 1:17) records the many names with which Miriam was called. One of these names – based on I Chronicles 2:19 – is Efrat, because she made the Israelites be fruitful and multiply (Efrat shares a root with pru u’rvu – God’s command to procreate). For doing such a huge mitzvah, the Midrash says that Miriam merited to be the mother of royalty, with King David being her direct descendent.

Miriam’s husband was Caleb ben Hetzron (not to be confused with the good spy Caleb ben Yefuneh), who was a great-grandson of Judah. (Hetzron was the son of Peretz, who was Judah’s son with Tamar.) Although it is actually Hetzron’s son Ram, and not Caleb, who is the forefather of King David (I Chronicles 2:10-16), the Midrash insists that David descended from Caleb and Miriam, and this is why I Samuel 17:12 describes him as “David, the son of an Efrati”, Efrat being Miriam. It is quite possible that Caleb and Ram are one and the same person, and this seems to be the suggestion of this Midrash.

Miriam at the Seder

It was once customary to place an additional item on the Passover seder plate that does not officially appear there today. The haggadah of Rav Sherira Gaon (c. 906-1006 CE) suggested placing a piece of fish next to the shank bone and the egg, and this custom was also cited by the Ma’aseh Rokeach (c. 1665-1742 CE). The shank, egg, and fish were meant to symbolize the three prophets of redemption: Moses, Aaron, and Miriam, as described in Micah 6:4.

'Destruction of Leviathan' by Gustav Doré

‘Destruction of Leviathan’ by Gustav Doré

This ties into the Talmudic dictum (Taanit 9a) that in the merit of Moses, Aaron, and Miriam the Israelites in the wilderness had manna, the protective clouds of glory, and water. They further parallel the midrashic beasts said to come at the End of Days: Behemoth, the land beast; Ziz, the great bird; and Leviathan, the sea dragon. These creatures will be slaughtered and served in the so-called “Feast of Resurrection” or “Feast of Mashiach” (Pesachim 119b).

By eating an egg, fish, and meat at the Passover seder, one is not only commemorating the role of the three great prophets Moses, Aaron, and Miriam, and the three miracles in the Wilderness that existed in their merit, but also having a mini-Mashiach feast. After all, the Exodus was only the First Redemption, and we are eagerly awaiting the Final Redemption. May we merit to see it soon.

King Solomon on Feminism

This week’s parasha is Korach, recounting the rebellion instigated by Moses’ cousin Korach. The portion begins by telling us that “Korach, the son of Itz’har, the son of Kohath, the son of Levi took [himself], along with Dathan and Abiram, the sons of Eliab, and On, the son of Peleth, descendants of Reuben…” (Numbers 16:1). We go on to read how Korach, Dathan, and Abiram are all punished for their treason, yet On is never mentioned again! What happened to him?

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 109b) records that On – better known as On ben Pelet – was saved from Korach’s scheme by his righteous wife. She convinced her husband not to take part in the plot. However, he had already sworn to do so, and was unsure how to get out of it. Taking matters into her own hands, she seduced her husband and made him drink wine until he passed out. She then sat outside their tent with her hair loosened and uncovered. When Korach’s men inevitably came by to look for On, his wife’s immodesty made them turn away, so they left On behind. The Talmud insists that all of Korach’s co-conspirators were holy men of the highest degree. Their protest was indeed valid, and as we wrote in the past, Moses actually agreed with them! Nonetheless, their approach in sparking a rebellion and publicly confronting Moses was wrong, and they paid for it dearly. Thankfully, On was saved by his wise wife.

Meanwhile, the Talmud writes that the very source of the rebellion was Korach’s wife! She constantly taunted her husband, reminding him how Moses essentially made himself a king, and put his favourite people in positions of power. She even went so far as to say Moses was jealous of Korach’s beautiful hair – and this was why he had all the Levites shave their hair in their purification ceremony! The Talmud concludes with words from the Book of Proverbs (14:1), “Every wise woman builds her house, but the foolish one, in her hands it is destroyed.” A woman has the power to build a happy, righteous home, and at the same time, the ability to tear it down completely.

This duality brings about a contradiction within the teachings of King Solomon. In one place, he states that a man who “has found a woman, has found goodness” (Proverbs 18:22), while in another he states that he finds “the woman more bitter than death” (Ecclesiastes 7:26). How do we reconcile these verses?

The Woman

Rabbi Yosef Hayyim, the "Ben Ish Chai" (1835-1909)

Rabbi Yosef Hayyim, the “Ben Ish Chai” (1835-1909)

The Ben Ish Chai offered an amazing answer: In the first case, King Solomon used the word ishah (“woman”) while in the latter he used ha’ishah (“the woman”). Ben Ish Chai calculates that the numerical value of ishah (אשה) is 306. However, the value of ha’ishah (האשה) is 311, equivalent to the value of ish (איש), “man”. The woman that King Solomon finds bitter is the one that tries to be like a man! While women and men are of course equal, they are not the same. A women must not strive be like a man any more than a man should try to be like a woman.

In fact, this was the very philosophy of one the great feminists of our time, Simone de Beauvoir. She goes back all the way to Plato to point out where the flaw in feminism began. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy summarizes:

Plato, beginning with the premise that sex is an accidental quality, concludes that women and men are equally qualified to become members of the guardian class. The price of women’s admission to this privileged class, however, is that they must train and live like men. Thus the discriminatory sexual difference remains in play. Only men or those who emulate them may rule. Beauvoir’s argument for equality does not fall into this trap. She insists that women and men treat each other as equals and that such treatment requires that their sexual differences be validated. Equality is not a synonym for sameness.

Unfortunately, many feminists today make this same mistake by assuming that women should behave like men. The reality is quite opposite. King Solomon and de Beauvoir agree: women should not be emulating men, and doing so only brings about further conflict. This is particularly true within relationships and marriages. For a marriage to succeed, each partner needs to understand and fulfil their unique roles.

Eternal Feminine and Eshet Chayil

'Solomon Receiving the Queen of Sheba' by Gustav Doré

‘Solomon Receiving the Queen of Sheba’ by Gustav Doré

King Solomon might disagree with de Beauvoir when it comes to her concept of the “eternal feminine”. De Beauvoir believed that men have created a certain archetype of a woman needing to be modest, pure, graceful, and “angelic”. Society expects a woman to play a passive, supporting role, spent mostly in private, while the man is the primary subject and is out in the public eye. The lyrics of Eshet Chayil (Proverbs 31:10-31) – commonly sung before the Kiddush on Friday evenings – seems to fit right into this mould.

In this song, the ideal woman is described as a diligent, devoted mother and wife. She is doing all the work while her husband is by “the gates, where he sits among the elders of the land…” The husband is the subject, out in public discussing important matters with the elders, while she quietly takes care of everything back at home. It isn’t surprising that many feminists are not very fond of Eshet Chayil.

Having said that, it is also possible to look at this song from another perspective. The woman described in Eshet Chayil is not sitting at home all day; she is out and about like a “merchant ship” (v. 14), dealing with real estate (v. 16), and volunteering her time with the needy of the community (v. 20). She is not at all docile or passive, but strong (v. 17) and fearless (v. 21). She is wise (v. 26) and well-known in those same “gates” where the elders sit (v. 31). Whether she has grace or beauty is irrelevant (v. 30). Most importantly, she is happy, and “laughing to the last day” (v. 25).

While Judaism does indeed conceptualize an ideal woman, this is certainly not to make her a second-class citizen. It is instead meant to inspire and motivate. Moreover, it isn’t just the woman that is idealized, but the man, too. Men are held to the same standard of being modest, pure, and “angelic”, together with a host of other lofty traits. Both men and women are meant to strive towards greater righteousness, holiness, and wisdom. And Jewish history shows that it is usually the women that surpass the men in these qualities anyway. The Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni, Ruth 606) states that it is only in the merit of the women that the Jewish people are redeemed. Based on this midrashic passage, Rabbi Eliyahu Kitov wrote:

In the nation of Israel, throughout history, the primary source of virtue and goodness has been righteous Jewish women. Sara was the mother of prophecy; Miriam, the mother of redemption. The Jewish women who went out of Egypt were the mothers of loyalty to G-d, and strong, pure faith in Him. Devorah was the mother of heroism; Ruth, the mother of royalty; Esther, the mother of salvation; Chana, the mother of martyrdom. There also were the mothers of brave rebellion – Mattisyahu’s daughter and the women who followed her, and the heroic Yehudis. Who will be the mothers of the light of the Redemption to Come? These same women, and the righteous Jewish women of today.

When is Mashiach Coming?

This week’s Torah portion is Metzora, loosely translated as “leper”. It begins by detailing the procedures for the purification of one who has been afflicted by leprosy. The Sages famously state (Arachin 15b) that the term metzora comes from “motzi shem ra”, slandering one’s fellow. Thus, a person would be afflicted with skin ailments if they were guilty of slander and evil speech. Since the slanderer is making their fellow look bad in the eyes of the public, they are appropriately punished by becoming visibly unsightly.

The connection between a metzora and a slanderer is seen in the case of Miriam, the sister of Moses. In chapter 12 of Numbers, we read how Miriam confronted Moses about his personal affairs in the presence of others. As a result of this public embarrassment, she was afflicted with leprosy, and became “white as snow” (v. 10).

Strangely, there is one more important figure that is said to be afflicted with leprosy, and for this person, the reasons appear inexplicable. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 98a) recounts the following:

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi met Elijah [the Prophet] by the entrance of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s tomb… and asked him:
“When will the Messiah come?”
[Elijah responded:] “Go and ask him yourself.”
“Where is he?”
“At the entrance [of Rome].”
“And how will I recognize him?”
“He is sitting among the poor lepers, who are untying [their bandages] all at once, and retying them all at once, whereas he unties and reties each bandage separately, thinking, Should I be wanted, I must not be delayed.”

This fascinating passage suggests that Mashiach is sitting at the gates of Rome (according to the Vilna Gaon’s commentary) among all the lepers expelled from the city. Unlike all the other lepers, Mashiach treats one bandage at a time, just in case he might be called to his mantle at any moment, and must always be ready. Indeed, the following page of the Talmud asks what Mashiach’s name might be, and after citing several possibilities, the rabbis conclude that he is known as the “Leper Scholar” (or “the Leper of Rebbi’s School”).

Why would Mashiach be a leper?

The Leper Scholar

The Lubavitcher Rebbe offers one interesting answer to the puzzle. He teaches (Likutei Sichot, Vol. 7, pg. 100) that Mashiach is essentially a perfect person on the inside; however, no human being is completely perfect – such a distinction is reserved only for God – and so, his minor spiritual imperfections appear only on his most outer garments – the skin. The Rebbe goes on to say that the leprosy appearing on his skin is actually a sign of Mashiach’s tremendous spiritual powers. Rabbi Eli Touger describes the Rebbe’s teaching like this: “…there are sublime spiritual influences which, because of the lack of appropriate vessels… can produce negative effects. For when powerful energy is released without being harnessed, it can cause injury. This is the reason for the [leprosy] with which Mashiach is afflicted.”

The Midrash writes that Mashiach’s most powerful weapon is his tongue, and he slays evil with his speech. In one passage (Pesikta Rabbati 37), Mashiach is said to be confronted with 140 wicked kingdoms, and God comforts him: “… do not be afraid, for all of them will perish by the breath of your lips.” This is based on the verse in Isaiah 11, where the Messiah is similarly described as destroying the wicked with his speech. The power of speech is perhaps the greatest of all – it is through speech that God created this entire universe (“And God said ‘Let there be light’…”) – one who knows the true powers of speech can create and destroy worlds!

The power of speech is precisely what the metzora abuses in slandering a fellow, and is thoroughly punished for it with leprosy. Meanwhile, Mashiach uses the same power to root out all evil. Yet, his power is so great that containing it in his feeble body inevitably manifests as a leprosy on his skin.

With this definition in mind, we may see the word metzora in a new light. The Sages say that metzora means motzi ra, literally one who brings out evil. While this can be taken to mean one who brings out evil words about others, it can also be read as one who removes evil from the world, which is Mashiach’s ultimate purpose.

When Will Mashiach Come?

The same pages of Talmud quoted above (Sanhedrin 98a-b) record that the students of Rabbi Yose ben Kisma asked him: “‘When will the Messiah come?’… So he answered them: ‘When this gate falls down, is rebuilt, falls again, and is again rebuilt, and then falls a third time, before it can be rebuilt the son of David will come.’” Rashi comments here that the “gate” which Rabbi Yose is referring to is none other than Rome (just as the Vilna Gaon commented above that Mashiach is sitting at the gates of Rome).

Rabbi Yose is saying that Rome will fall, and will be rebuilt two more times. When the Third Rome falls, one is assured that Mashiach’s arrival is imminent. Amazingly, historians often speak of “Three Romes”. The first Rome was the original Latin Rome. It collapsed in the 5th century CE, and was replaced by the Greek-speaking Constantinople (today’s Istanbul), the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, later referred to as the Byzantine Empire. When Constantinople fell, the new, “Third Rome” was said to be Moscow. Moscow reached the peak of its global power with the Soviet Union, and collapsed just as dramatically less than 30 years ago.

Three Romes: Ancient Rome, Constantinople, and Moscow

Three Romes: Ancient Rome, Constantinople, and Moscow

Interestingly, Jewish literature commonly referred to Rome as Edom, literally the “red” empire. The Soviet Union, too, was known for its association with that colour; the Communists were commonly referred to as “the Reds”, the Soviet Army as the “Red Army”, with the focal point of their empire being Red Square in Moscow.

It is commonly taught that God created civilization as we know it to last 6000 years, followed by a seventh millennium of a peaceful, cosmic “Sabbath”, mimicking the seven days of Creation (see, for example, Sanhedrin 97a). Throughout the ages, various rabbis attempted to calculate the coming of Mashiach based on this principle. If the Final Era of mankind is the 7th millennium – the Sabbath – then the Messianic Era is the preparatory period that immediately precedes the Sabbath. How long should this period be? Well, how long do we spend preparing for Shabbat?

In Jewish law, one should stop working and start preparing for Shabbat six hours before its onset. If each millennium of human history corresponds to one day, then six hours corresponds to 250 years, which means that the official starting point of the Messianic Era was the year 5750 (since this is 250 years before the start of the 7th millennium). Indeed, 5750 is commonly cited as the beginning of the Ikveta d’Mshicha, the “Footsteps of Mashiach”.

Incredibly, Rosh Hashanah of 5750 was celebrated in September of 1989. The Berlin Wall – and the Soviet Union along with it – came crashing down less than two months after, that same November. The Third Rome had fallen right in line with the prophesized starting point of the “Footsteps of Mashiach”, just as the Talmud records in two brief pages of the tractate Sanhedrin (97a, 98b).

Needless to say, it appears that Mashiach’s arrival may very well be imminent.