Tag Archives: Torah Study

An Honest Look at the Talmud

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

An illustration of Rabbi Akiva from the Mantua Haggadah of 1568

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

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

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

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

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

Promiscuity in the Talmud

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

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

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

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

Science in the Talmud

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

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

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

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

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

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

History in the Talmud

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

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

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

Archaeological remains of the Beitar fortress.

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

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

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

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

Understanding the Talmud

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

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

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

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

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

The Shocking Opinion that the Akedah Never Happened

This week’s parasha is Vayera, which concludes with the famous account of the “binding of Isaac”, or Akedah. Last year we explored how God never intended for Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, nor did He command it. This year we explore a much bigger question: did the Akedah even happen? In his Moreh Nevuchim (“Guide for the Perplexed”, Part II, Ch. 41) the Rambam writes:

Know again that in the case of everyone about whom exists a scriptural text that an angel talked to him or that speech came to him from God, this did not occur in any other way than in a dream or in a vision of prophecy.

The Rambam gives a number of examples of events that did not physically happen, but were only dreamt, including, quite surprisingly, Jacob wrestling the angel, Bilaam and his donkey, and the three angels that visit Abraham at the start of this week’s parasha. The Ramban, meanwhile, criticizes the Rambam for his approach, going so far as to say that “It is forbidden to listen” or “to believe” in such ideas.

Nonetheless, the notion that the Akedah happened entirely in a dream vision persisted long after the Rambam and Ramban. Marc B. Shapiro presents a thorough analysis of this conflict in his Changing the Immutable (pgs. 67-71). Shapiro notes that among those who accepted the Rambam’s opinion are the great Rabbi Abraham Abulafia (1240-1291), the Efodi (Rabbi Isaac ben Moses haLevi, c. 1350-1415), and Rav Nissim of Marseilles (c. 13th-14th century), who stated that Ibn Ezra (c. 1089-1167) also took this approach.

These sages argue that the Akedah passage is highly uncharacteristic of Abraham. When God told Abraham that He would smite Sodom, Abraham immediately protested and argued with Him. Yet here, God commands something incomprehensible, and Abraham does not even say a word? Abraham spent his entire life combatting idolatry, including child sacrifice, and now he suddenly and willingly goes to sacrifice his own child? It simply cannot be! The Akedah must have been a dream.

Is the Torah a History Book?

In truth, the notion that the Akedah was only a vision doesn’t hold much water. The text itself states that “Abraham woke up in the morning”—God’s command was certainly a vision, but the rest did physically happen. It was a three day’s journey, and after the incident Abraham names the place that would eventually be Jerusalem. At the end, we are told that Abraham returned to Be’er Sheva. It is difficult to see how the whole thing could be a dream. The same is true for the three angels visiting Abraham. How could it be a dream if Sarah interacted with these angels as well, and two of the angels went on to destroy Sodom?

Of course, there are those who argue that none of this happened at all, and the Torah is nothing but a set of national myths or stories. This brings up an important question: is the Torah a history book?

The answer is a definitive no. “Torah” can mean a lot of things (“law”, “instruction”, “teaching”, “guide”) but it does not mean “history”. The Torah is an instructional manual for life. Some of it describes historical events, but most of it records laws, ethics, rituals, and metaphysical realities. The purpose of the Torah is for us to study it and discuss it, “turn it over and turn it over”, analyze it and develop its ideas, and thereby bring the Torah to life. We have already written in the past that Jews don’t really “follow” the Torah, we live it, and we grow with it, and evolve together with it.

Besides, archaeologists have found a plethora of evidence to support the historical aspects of the Torah, including multiple seals bearing the name Yakov, the tomb of a Semitic-Egyptian official that fits the bill of Joseph exactly, Egyptian records describing the expulsion of a large Semitic nation of “shepherd-kings”, and many more events from the Tanakh.

Still, the Torah is not a history book and should not be studied that way. The Ramak (Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, 1522-1570) wrote that the narratives of the Torah are only its outermost garment, the legal and homiletical aspects are its main body, but it is the spiritual and mystical wisdom within it that is the true soul of the Torah. He based this on the Zohar (III, 152a), which speaks with even harsher language:

Rabbi Shimon said: “Woe to the person who says that the Torah comes to give instructions and tell descriptive stories and simple tales. … Every word in the Torah reflects higher wisdom and higher secrets… The narratives of the Torah are only the outer clothing of the Torah. Whoever thinks that this outer clothing is, in fact, the Torah and there is nothing underneath the clothing is spiritually backward and has no portion in the World to Come…

One who studies the Torah superficially, and accepts its laws and narratives only at face value, without penetrating into the Torah’s depths, is making a big mistake and will ultimately forfeit their portion in Olam HaBa. Such a person’s faith will be weak, and they will be unable to deal with supposed “historical inaccuracies” or “scientific contradictions” which we are bombarded with constantly. In reality, when delving deeper into the Torah and embracing it entirely, it becomes abundantly clear that there are no inaccuracies or contradictions at all. The Torah is truth.

Why Physical Labour is a Spiritual Necessity

In this week’s Torah portion, Ekev, Moses tells the Israelites that if they follow God’s commandments, He will “give the rain of your land in its season, the former rain and the latter rain, and you shall gather in your corn, and your wine, and your oil.” The Talmud (Berakhot 35b) asks:

“And you shall gather in your corn.” What is to be learned from these words? Since it says, “This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth,” I might think that this injunction is to be taken literally. Therefore it says, “And you shall gather in your corn”, which implies that you are to combine the study of them with a worldly occupation.

Although elsewhere the Torah states that one should always be meditating upon the Torah, here we are told that we should be working the fields. The Sages learn from this the importance of combining Torah study with some form of employment. This sentiment is expressed throughout rabbinic literature. Pirkei Avot (2:2) famously states:

Rabban Gamliel, the son of Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi, would say: Beautiful is the study of Torah with the way of the world, for the toil of them both causes sin to be forgotten. And all Torah study that is not accompanied by work will eventually be negated and lead to sin.

Rabban Gamliel goes so far as to say one who only learns Torah and does not combine it with labour will have their Torah learning nullified, and will be lead to sin. The Rambam (Hilkhot Talmud Torah 3:10) takes an even more hard-line approach:

Anyone who takes upon himself to study Torah without doing work, and derive his livelihood from charity, desecrates [God’s] Name, dishonours the Torah, extinguishes the light of faith, brings evil upon himself, and forfeits his life in the World to Come, for it is forbidden to derive benefit from the words of Torah in this world.

Our Sages declared: “Whoever benefits from the words of Torah forfeits his life in the world” … Also, they commanded and declared: “Love work and despise rabbinic positions,” and “All Torah study that is not accompanied by work will eventually be negated and lead to sin.” Ultimately, such a person will steal from others.

Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, the Rambam (1135-1204)

In another place (Hilkhot Matnot Ani’yim 10:18), the Rambam further elaborates:

Even a dignified Sage who becomes poor should work in a profession, even a degrading profession, rather than seek public assistance. It is better to skin the hides of dead animals than to tell the people, “I am a Sage” or “I am a priest, support me.”

… Our greatest Sages were wood-choppers, porters of beams, water-drawers for gardens, blacksmiths, and charcoal-makers. They did not ask anything from the public and refused to accept anything that was given to them.

The Sages that the Rambam is referring to include the great Hillel, who famously worked as a wood-chopper, though just enough to support his family and pay the entrance fee to the Torah study hall (Yoma 35b), and Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananiah who was a blacksmith and charcoal-maker (Berakhot 28a). Meanwhile, Rav Papa and Rav Chisda were beer brewers, and Rav Chanina and Rav Oshaia were cobblers (Pesachim 113a-b). The Rambam was himself a physician.

Of course, today we need rabbis who devote themselves full-time to the needs of the community, and to serve as teachers, judges, counsellors, and so on. Such leaders certainly deserve a good salary for their work. However, those adults that simply learn Torah most of the day, subsisting off of the community while giving little in return, are engaging in a tremendous transgression.

Humans are meant to be productive. From the very beginning, God made man His partner in creation, to complete what He started – asher bara Elohim la’asot. God explicitly instructed Adam to work the Garden and tend to it (Genesis 2:15). Physical work is part of man’s spiritual rectification. Amazingly, the Talmud (Nedarim 49b) records how Rabbi Yehuda would carry a huge pitcher of water over his shoulder on his way to the beit midrash, and Rabbi Shimon would similarly carry a heavy basket, both saying “great is labour, for it honours its worker”. Women are not exempt from this, and the Talmud famously states that a husband who forbids his wife from doing any work should better divorce her, since “idleness leads to promiscuity” and “idiocy” (Ketubot 59b).

The Rambam once again summarizes it best (Hilkhot Talmud Torah 3:11):

It is a great thing for a person to derive his livelihood from his own efforts. This attribute was possessed by the pious of the early generations. In this manner, one will merit all honour and benefit in this world and in the World to Come, as it is said: “If you eat the toil of your hands, you will be happy and it will be good for you.” [Psalms 128:2] You will be happy in this world, and it will be good for you in the World to Come, which is entirely good.

Donald Trump and the Year of the Rooster

This week’s Torah portion is Bo, which describes the last of the plagues on Egypt, the first Passover night, and the long-awaited end to the Israelite captivity. While the parasha recounts the First Redemption, the world is now eagerly awaiting the Final Redemption. This sentiment has become particularly intense since the inauguration of Donald Trump, which seems to have everyone anticipating the End of Days. While some see the new president as a messianic figure, others believe he is another tyrannical pharaoh. It is truly too early to tell which of these Trump will turn out to be. In any case, the world is a very different place now than it was just a few weeks ago.

Chinese Zodiac (Credit: powerofpositivity.com)

Interestingly, all of this coincides with the start of the new, 4715th Chinese year. According to the Chinese Zodiac, we have now entered the “Year of the Rooster”. At first glance, this may appear unrelated to anything that has to do with either geopolitics or Torah. However, there are actually a great number of parallels between the Hebrew Calendar and the Chinese Calendar, and between the ancient teachings of both cultures. [Might there be a deeper connection between Sinai (סיני) and Sin (סין), the Hebrew for “China”?] And the confluence of Trump’s presidency with the Year of the Rooster may in fact be very significant.

The Rooster’s Call

Jewish mystical teachings suggest that all things in the universe – both living and non-living – are constantly singing to their Creator. A popular text called Perek Shirah, “Chapter of Song”, describes what it is that everything in nature is singing to God. Each creation is chanting a unique verse. The first two chapters of Perek Shirah tells us what the stars and skies sing, the seas and rivers, fields and deserts, day and night, Heaven and Earth, wind and rain, and so on. The third chapter speaks of trees and plants; the fourth, fifth, and sixth of different animals. Pretty much all of the species mentioned sing a single verse. However, one organism is given a whopping eight lines: the rooster.

The rooster’s lines are all concerned with God’s final revelation and the World to Come. They are presented in sequence, with the rooster giving a total of seven calls, one after the other. A careful reading shows that these seven calls of the rooster parallel the seven-year narrative of the End of Days given by the Talmud (Sanhedrin 97a):

Our Rabbis taught: in the seven year cycle at the end of which the Son of David will come, in the first year, this verse will be fulfilled: “And I will cause it to rain upon one city and cause it not to rain upon another city” (Amos 9:7); in the second, the arrows of hunger will be sent forth; in the third, a great famine, in the course of which men, women, and children, pious men and saints will die, and the Torah will be forgotten by its students; in the fourth, partial plenty; in the fifth, great plenty, when men will eat, drink and rejoice, and the Torah will return to its disciples; in the sixth, [Heavenly] sounds; in the seventh, wars; and at the conclusion of the septennate the Son of David will come.

Just as the Rabbis prophesy that in the third year “Torah will be forgotten”, the rooster’s third call is to “busy yourselves with Torah, so that your reward in the World to Come shall be doubled.” Just as the Rabbis prophesy that in the seventh year there will be wars, the rooster’s seventh call is to stand up and “act for God”, to battle those that are trying to destroy the Torah. After the wars, the Rabbis say Mashiach ben David will come, and after the rooster’s seventh call, the chicken proclaims God’s everlasting kindness.

A New Star

In the run-up to the presidential election, it was often pointed out that the gematria of Donald Trump (דונלד טראמפ) is 424, the same as Mashiach ben David (משיח בן דוד). I don’t think too many actually believe Trump himself is Mashiach ben David, but many do feel that his presidency will usher in the coming of the messiah. As we saw above, our Sages taught millennia ago that the coming of Mashiach will be preceded by a specific seven year sequence of events, and that the rooster will proclaim its beginnings. It is therefore quite intriguing to point out the convergence of Trump’s presidency with the Year of the Rooster.

The position of the new star, to appear in the “swan” constellation Cygnus

More fascinating still, the Talmud prophesies that in the sixth year there will be signs from Heaven. If 2017 really is the start of the seven year cycle, that makes the sixth year 2022. Recently, astronomers discovered that a “new star” will appear in the night sky in 2022, the result of a massive celestial collision that happened some 1800 years ago. The star will be visible with the naked eye, and will be among the brightest objects in the sky for about six months. Some rabbis have already stated they believe this to be the prophesied star of Mashiach.

Of course, this is all highly speculative, and may indeed be nothing more than coincidence. In the meantime, it is best to heed the rooster’s third call: “Arise, righteous ones, and busy yourselves with Torah, so that your reward in the World to Come shall be doubled.”

Sukkot: Uniting Heaven and Earth

This week we celebrate the festival of Sukkot. This holiday is possibly the least-observed among Jews in modern times. After the “high holidays” of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, many go back to their regular routines and completely forget about Sukkot. In reality, Sukkot is considered a “high holiday”, too, and is inseparable from Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Most people are aware that one is judged and written into the Heavenly Books on Rosh Hashanah, and that the books are sealed on Yom Kippur, but few know that the books are reopened on Hoshana Rabbah, the last day of Sukkot (before the semi-independent holiday of Shemini Atzeret which immediately follows Sukkot).

The Arizal describes the great importance of Hoshana Rabbah, and the need to stay up all night learning Torah, and saying selichot after midnight. Some also blow the shofar on this day. Hoshana Rabbah literally means “the great salvation”, and many prayers associated with this day beseech God to finally send us Mashiach and bring about the last redemption. It is well known that if all of Israel repented properly and wholeheartedly, Mashiach would come immediately. This was what Mashiach himself told Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi:

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…”
… So he went to him and greeted him, saying, “Peace be upon you, Master and Teacher.” [Mashiach] replied: “Peace be upon you, O son of Levi,”
“When will you come Master?” he asked.
“Today!” was his answer.
On his returning to Elijah, the latter enquired, “What did he say to you?”
“Peace be upon you, O son of Levi,” he answered.
Thereupon [Elijah] observed, “He thereby assured you and your father of [a portion in] the World to Come!’
“He spoke falsely to me,” he replied, “stating that he would come today, but has not.”
[Elijah] answered him, “This is what he said to you: Today, if you will but hearken to his voice…” (Psalms 95:7)

Rabbi Yehoshua was excited when Mashiach assured him he would come on that very day. When the day passed, the rabbi was heartbroken, and thought Mashiach had lied to him. However, when later meeting Elijah again, the prophet told him that Mashiach was only quoting Psalms, that the redemption would come today if the Jewish people merited it. The fact that Mashiach has yet to come means the people are not yet worthy.

As such, each Yom Kippur that passes without Mashiach’s immediate arrival means that Israel has not repented completely. In fact, the final long blow of the shofar at the conclusion of Yom Kippur is likened to the shofar blow that will be heard when Mashiach arrives. We hope that God has fully accepted our prayers, and that this final shofar blow is the one to bring the redemption. If Yom Kippur passes without the redemption, we have one more chance on Hoshana Rabbah, when the Heavenly Books are reopened one last time. We show our devotion by staying up all night learning Torah, and we say selichot just once more in the hopes that it might tip the scales in our favour. We blow the shofar for the very last time, too, in one final attempt at bringing Heaven down to Earth. This union of Heaven and Earth is precisely what Mashiach’s coming – and the holiday of Sukkot – is all about.

David’s Fallen Sukkah

When God created this world, He intended for the spiritual and material realms to coexist, and for human beings to inhabit both dimensions simultaneously. This perfect state of reality was embodied by the Garden of Eden, where Adam and Eve were “bodies of light” and God’s presence was openly experienced. But Adam and Eve’s actions caused their bodies of light, ‘or (אור), to turn to skin, ‘or (עור) – two words that sounds exactly the same in Hebrew, and written the same save for one letter. Man was banished from the Garden and descended into a world where spirituality is concealed, and God’s presence is not so easy to recognize.

Mashiach’s coming is meant to re-bridge the gap between Heaven and Earth, restoring the world to a state of Eden. This is what we are meant to experience on Sukkot, when we leave the material confines of our homes and spend our time in simple outdoor huts, surrounded by God’s “clouds of glory”. The sukkah is a place to experience Heaven on Earth.

The Kabbalists tell us that this is the inner meaning of sukkah (סוכה), the numerical value of which is 91. This special number is the sum of God’s name (יהוה), the value of which is 26, and the way we pronounce the name, Adonai (אדני), the value of which is 65. In Heaven, where Godliness is openly revealed, God is known by His Ineffable Name (יהוה). On Earth, where Godliness is concealed, the Tetragrammaton cannot be pronounced, and we say “Adonai” (אדני) instead. The fusion of God’s heavenly title (26), and His earthly title (65) makes 91, the value of sukkah, for it is in the sukkah that we can experience the fusion of Heaven and Earth.

[Incidentally, 91 is also the numerical value of malakh (מלאך), “angel”, for what is an angel but an intermediary between Heaven and Earth, a being that can freely migrate between these two dimensions?]

Sukkot is therefore a brief taste of a forthcoming world ushered in by Mashiach; a hint of the Garden of Eden that will be re-established by the Son of David. This is the deeper meaning of the final prophetic verses of Amos:

On that day, I will raise up the sukkah of David that is fallen, and close up its breaches, and I will raise up his ruins, and I will build it as in the days of old… And I will turn the captivity of My people Israel, and they shall build the waste cities, and inhabit them; and they shall plant vineyards, and drink their wine; they shall also make gardens, and eat their fruit. And I will plant them upon their land, and they shall no more be plucked out of their land which I have given them, says Hashem, your God.

Chag sameach!

Sukkot decoration featuring the "Sukkah of Leviathan". Midrashic literature suggests that Mashiach will slay the great mythical dragon Leviathan and build a sukkah from its skin. The righteous will then be invited to partake in the "Feast of Leviathan" together with Mashiach. (Malkhut Vaxberger, www.mwaxb.co.il)

Sukkot decoration featuring the “Sukkah of Leviathan”. Midrashic literature suggests that Mashiach will slay the great mythical dragon Leviathan and build a sukkah from its skin. The righteous will then be invited to partake in the “Feast of Leviathan” together with Mashiach. (Malkhut Vaxberger, www.mwaxb.co.il)