Carrying our Broken Hearts to the End of a Cursed Year, by Rav Dovid Gottlieb
How can we process the murder of the 6 hostages and what should we be thinking about as 5784 comes to a close?
Swords of Iron | Day 339
KMTT - the Torah Podcast
Carrying our Broken Hearts to the End of a Cursed Year
"Someone unexpectedly and surprisingly Winston Churchill was back in the news over the last week. For those of you who know what I'm referring to, I may be Yavin, for those who don't consider yourself lucky, but I do want to go on record as saying that I am among those who consider Churchill one of the most important and influential, in a positive sense, people of the 20th century. But as it may, I mention him because not only was he an incredible leader, a statesman, historian, he was also one of the most articulate writers and speakers, at least of the last hundred years. So much so that not only are so many of his speeches famous and relevant, he had such a way with words that many of the phrases that he coined or words that he used in interesting and creative ways still remain popular and part of the written and spoken vernacular to this very day. In a radio broadcast that Churchill delivered in October of 1939, discussing the emerging threat of Russia and its confounding nature, Churchill coined an incredibly articulate and powerful and compelling phrase when he described Russia as a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. I'm reminded of this artful description when considering the Egla Rufa ritual that was discussed in this past week's Parsha, Parsha Shofteem. The mitzvahat confounded them of Farshem throughout the ages. After all, the Torah tells us that in the tragic event of an anonymous victim, murder victim's body being found in between two cities. We don't know who the victim is, we don't know who the murderer, the culprit is. We measure what is the closest city to the body. And the ziknei ha'ir, the religious leaders, the elders of that city have to go to crime scene, go to a certain untilled, unworked valley, nakhal etan, and they take this calf and they do an egla arufa ritual. They have to kill it in a certain way and say certain things, all very surprising and confounding and truly confusing, culminating in the well-known formulation brought down in the bsakim, how the leaders have to say, yad dei newlo shafru, esa dama zeb. The elders of the city say, we're not the ones who killed them, we didn't spill this blood. And from the beginning to the end, this mitzvah, this ritual defies easy explanation. In fact, I think we can suggest three specific questions that have confounded imafarsham, a riddle, a mystery, and an enigma. First, the riddle. Most basically, what is the purpose of this ritual? As understood by the torschabal path, collaborating on these ziknei, we know that not only are the leaders of the city involved, the Sanhedrin, some of the greatest rabbis the leaders of the whole generation, had to come from Yushalayim. Kohanim participate, I already mentioned the ziknei here, there's a specific way of killing the animal in this undeveloped, unworked valley. Why? What's it all for? Question number two, the mystery. The previous parikh, parikhof, begins with the coin's monologue to the soldiers before battle, it continues with the guidelines of taking the boudi and the provision, the fruit trees while mounting a siege, and then next week's parocha, this coming week, parchos kisei, which opens in the continuation in the middle of Parikhofalath, begins yet again, kitei te l'amil hamah, with the special permission granted of H. S. Fastatawar to take a female fugitive and captive as a wife. Also it's own mystery and riddle for Hazal. But in between these sections, the kitei te l'amil hamah and the beginning of Parikhof, and the second kitei te l'amil hamah, in the middle of Kapalath, which begins parchos kitei, in the middle of this section, we have a handful of shukim, which appear to have a little, if anything to do with warfare. Parchos shofim ended, right in between these two sections of war, with this intriguing halakhah of agla rufa. What to do, as we mentioned, if a corpse is found between two cities, et cetera, et cetera. What does this have to do with war? This is Dabqah talking about something that happened in peacetime, we're not describing in the middle of battle, finding an anonymous body. Parikhofalath slan, this is par for the course, unfortunately, in war. But Dabqah, the whole purpose, in the whole context of agla rufa, is Dabqah not during war. During regular peacetime, ne bah, the society, the community is shocked, finding a murder victim, a dead body, an anonymous person, no less, who, where, what, that is what gives rise to the agla rufa ritual. What does that have to do with Milhama, what's that do with war? Why is it sandwiched in between two sections, kafalath and the continuation of kaf, kaf, excuse me, and then the continuation of kafalath, which are both about war? And finally, the third question, the enigma. Tamara in Soto, Dabmhe'am abbei, is quoted by Rashi, explains that it's obvious and intuitive to anyone that the shukim has taken literally don't seem to make any sense. The elders of the city have to say that Daniel or Shafqah wa sadama zeh. As the Tamara itself asks dramatically, does anyone really think that the elders actually killed this person such that they have to formally deny such an accusation? So Gamara famously answers that, in fact, there is a concept of levaya, of accompanying a visitor out when they leave your house, when they leave the city, and you have to accompany them at least a little bit for Amos, and you have to give them Sayyidul Adarach, you give them some food, and you're supposed to escort them, and if you do that, say kafalath, that's considered a shimira. If you don't do that, you've put them at risk, and therefore says the Gamara here quoted by Rashi in the Parsha, that in essence, the elders are saying, lo yadayla wa shafqah wa dama zeh, we didn't let this person leave without levaya, therefore you can't blame us because we did accompany him, we did accompany him out of the city a little bit for Amos, we did give him some food, some provision, some Sayyidul Adarach, and therefore yadayla Shafqah wa sadama zeh. But this doesn't seem to answer the question at all, it actually makes it almost even more absurd, as if just walking a person for Amos, that protects a person on his way from whatever city he's going to, to the next big city, long stretches of road, of highway, of forest, of who knows what, and because you walk the person for Amos, Dafqah, not only for Amos, which are nothing, but Dafqah the safest for Amos, the first for Amos outside the city, that counts as if you protected him, if you saved them, if he's really in danger, how does that help? And if a person didn't do that, you didn't walk him for Amos, that makes you a murderer, I mean, the whole thing makes no sense. The question is not just better than the answer, the answer raises its own set of questions, which seem to be even better than the first questions. What is going on? Agla Rufa truly is, in Riddle, a mystery, and an enigma. So let's take these questions one by one. The first question, what's the whole purpose of this dramatic tech-ass we have to involve Sanhedrin, Kohanim, Zikhne Ha'ir, what's going on? So there are some, Rishonim, including the Ramam, Amor and Ibukham, who give very practical explanations, that we make a big deal about this, because the more people involved in the bigger deal we make it, the more publicity, the more world we'll spread, and perhaps we can sort of speak it crowdsource, and it's more likely that that will help us catch the murderer. Okay, perhaps. But I think a much more compelling interpretation is offered by other Rishonim, including Revios Bihor Shor, who says, "So beautifully," and I quote, "Agham Nira," in addition to the pragmatic explanation, which we just mentioned, perhaps an additional more fundamental reason. Davar Gidola, Ukpeta Gidola, we're making a statement by this big ceremony, with the leaders not only of the city, but the Sanhedrin, the Kohan, the leaders of the nation, all participating why? To show, Shaqar Shbar Khul, Matriach al Nefesh Aqas. This is how valuable and how precious and how sanctified even one person is. The loss of even one life is a Davar Gidola Ukpeta Gidola. It's a grave thing. It's a huge thing. It pains Aqar Shbar Khul, and it should pain us. Says the Bihor Shor, again, doesn't explain some of the oddities of the ritual. But the "bigness" of the ritual says the Bihor Shor highlights the importance of even a single life. And that explains the riddle. What about the mystery? The second question. Why is the ceremony of the Mitzvah of Agla Rufa sandwiched in between two sections relating to war? And for this, we have a beautiful interpretation that I found in my notes, to be honest, in the name of Rufa Ruderman Zatzal, the famed Roshishiva of Nairi Swar. I couldn't identify a source for this, which means I assumed that I heard it or read it somewhere from Rabbi Fran. So probably it's a Rabbi Fran, but either way, it's the name of his great Rabbi, the great Nairi Swar Shishiva Ruderman. And even though he didn't quote the Bihor Shor, his interpretation is perfectly in line with and consistent with the Bihor Shor. Cesar Ruderman, warfare by nature, often desensitizes those who are involved through supreme value of human life. Soldiers are by definition trained to kill. And there is therefore a danger that will arise that they could lose perhaps proper perspective regarding the sanctity of every human being, of every soul. This by the way, not in our context, but in general about the dangers of war is a comment made by more classical and earlier Mafarshem, even the Ruderman, the Nitzvah, for example, takes this point very dramatically in Parshas Pinchas, that war and specifically taking of another life, by definition can numb a person and can desensitize them to the sanctity of life. And therefore, Cesar Ruderman, Dafka, amidst discussions of wartime procedures, the Halakhos of war that were in Parakkaf in Parshashev team, the further Halakhos of war, which will be continued later in Parakkavalev, in Parshas Kiteze, right in the middle, right, the sandwich in between all of that, the Torah saw fit to insert the Halakh of Ergula Arufa, by which the elders of the city and of the community of the nation reaffirm their awareness of the immense loss suffered even when a single person, even when a John Doe, a single anonymous person, is found dead. Again, doesn't quote the Bakhoshor, but perfectly consistent in explaining and answering this second question, why the Halakhos and the ceremony of Arufa is Dafka where it's located, just like the Bakhoshor said, the whole purpose of the ritual, and Cesar Ruderman, the location of the ritual in the Torah text, both together come to highlight and to remind us that even, no matter what the circumstances are, whether it's during times of peace or times of war, we have to realize that any loss of life, even of one person, and even of a person who is so anonymous that we don't even know who they are, exactly the leader of the community, exactly a prominent or important person, someone who we don't even know can't even identify on the lower levels of society, even the death of one person and even an anonymous person, is so important that it's worth our, we have to attain our sensitivity to the Chisachayim sanctity of life, and therefore we make it a big deal, and it's Dafka put even in the times of war we shouldn't lose sight of this important point. Well, if this idea helps us solve both the riddle and the mystery, what remains is the enigma, and this is really the question, I think. What we're Hazal talking about when they seem to say that by the leaders accompanying a person fulfilling the midst of a la vaya as they leave the city, for Amos, what is that? 10 feet, whatever exactly it is, minimum, nothing symbolic. That somehow is a shem where as a protection, and therefore they get their hands are clean, such that the opposite, if they hadn't done it, on some level, at least if not literally then morally, they'd be culpable in the person's death. How does that make any sense? So there is a well-known interpretation attributed in the name of the Maharal. In fact, I had known about this for so many years, I just lazily assumed he was in the Grieriye in his commentary to Arparsha, and I looked, and I didn't find it, but I'm happy to say I kind of crowdsourced, and with help of some other abonim, I was actually able to locate this Maharal, and it's in his haloosh al-guros on the Gomara in Massach the Sota. And there, Maharal has a decently lengthy interpretation, but it's enough suffice it to just share one line of his powerful formulation, which encapsulates his thesis and his beautiful interpretation. Says the Maharal, clearly bothered by this question, how could just accompanying a person symbolically a few amos, how is that saving him, and if you don't do that, so to speak, Mr. Kabul, with his death, says the Maharal so beautifully, the power of a person, his protection, his vitality, his stability, is greater when he is part of the community, because then even as an individual, he or she carries with him or her the power, the protection, the stability, the zhuyos, of the whole seaboard, however, kashera adam huyi edi, nephrada, but if that person is separated from the community, doesn't feel part of the community, yeshla kohak pratih, they only have, they merely have their own, the person's own, his or her own zhuyos, but they don't have the kohak of the rabbim, and no matter who he or she is, no matter what a person is, by themselves, by yourself, there's too many dangers, there's too many risks in the world, in a precarious position, it's very possible, if not likely, that you will not have enough zhuyos, you will not have enough power or stature to be able to withstand all of the threats that could come your way. The us concludes the Maharal, pogim, bow, various problems can come to him or her. Now the Maharal seems to clearly, I think, the simple reading of the Maharal is very much a more metaphysical or mystical interpretation, they're just somehow symbolically by the zhuyer walking this person out, being the love of the person outside the city, that person's leaving with the kohak of the city, with the kohak of the seabor, and that is kind of like a horseshield, so to speak, which will help protect the person more than if they don't have that lavaya, they didn't have that accompaniment, and therefore they leave the city on their own, therefore they don't have the same power of defense, of a horseshield, as if they would had that lavaya. It seems to me that the Maharal probably does mean this in some kind of mystical and metaphysical way. However, over the years, I have often heard a more prosaic, if you will, in a more psychological interpretation, really based on this Maharal, and this is also an idea that I first heard the name of a Ruderman, again, I assume as well, even though I haven't been able to locate it, the written source, but I assume that I probably heard this from Rabbi Franz, and I think others may say this as well, and I think people read this into the Maharal, again, I'm not sure exactly what this is what the Maharal meant, but based on the Maharal, perhaps in a little bit more of a prosaic, and down-to-earth and psychological way, one could say, and I believe this is what Ruderman did say, that what the white might be being conveyed is that yes, the lavaya accompanying a person could just be a few minutes, a few blocks for almost 10 feet, it's clearly symbolic if a person is about to go on a long journey. It's not practically and pragmatically really going to protect the person, but if you are in a place and then you feel like you were really a part of it, you were seen, you were known, you were understood, you were embraced, you were part of that group or that community, then even when you leave on your own, you have a certain shtaltz, you have a certain pride, you have a certain inner strength because you are a somebody, and you're feeling of being up somebody is the fact that you are part of a community and they saw you, they respected you, they know you, they like you, they love you, they felt for you. On the other hand, if a person is part of a larger group and no one seems to really care about the person, talk to the person or maybe even notice the person, that is a very, very different and very bad feeling. And one of the places where this really can come up is when that person takes leave. When you take leave of a community that you are really a part of and that really felt your presence, that was Makhshiv, that recognized your presence, that made you feel part of the neighborhood, part of the community, part of the, etc., whatever the group is, then when you leave, even though you are now going out on your own, but you are going with this very positive self-image and this positive feeling because you have been part of that community, whereas if you were there and no one noticed you when you were there, and therefore certainly no one notices you when you are gone, that is a very different kind of feeling. If no one noticed you when you are there, they are actually not going to come in you and not notice you when you leave. And then you leave, not only feeling alone, you kind of feel like a loser. Said, Revhotner, Chubhi said, "Rudhrman, excuse me," that on some level, this is the idea of the mitzvah of La Vaya, that when a person is leaving, they need to be able to feel that they were somebody. By accompanying them, by Malavah, them out of the city, you let them know that while they were there, it was for a short time, but you noticed them. They became a part of you, and therefore you accompany them out. This is an important feeling for a person to possess. They feel connected to people, that gives them a positive feeling by themselves, which gives them confidence in their future journeys in the next steps. And therefore, perhaps symbolically or psychologically emotionally, if you are confronted with challenges on the road, whether it be a challenge in a benign sense or even a, God forbid, an actual physical danger, you will have more courage to face that challenge when you already have the inner confidence, having known during somebody because that last place where you were, the city, the community, you were in, they were Malavah, you because they cared about you because you were a part of them. That gives you kind of not a self-confidence to face even perhaps a danger. As opposed to a person who Nebuch didn't feel that, was ignored and therefore totally abandoned when they left and they left on their own, they don't have that self-confidence. If that, they may even feel defeatist. And therefore, they may not have the ability to fight off, God forbid, a danger, a hunter, Jimmy, again, I apologize, Reverend Ruderman, as a side of proof for this, because it's not in the morale as far as I can recall. But he points out that the first time we have the showerge of the word "Lavaya" in the Torah is embracious pericuf tests, describing the etymology of the name "Lavi". And the classical translator commentary on the Torah, the unclus says, "What is the "Lavaya"? "Yitqabair" to be attached. The Malabah person is to tell them we're attached to you. Yes, you're leaving our community now, you're leaving our city now, but you're a part of us, you're attached to us. And that, the morale may mean this more metaphysically, but perhaps we can also understand it, as Ruderman and others do, on an emotional psychological level. That gives the person a feeling of confidence that they were part of something bigger than themselves they were cared for, and therefore that perhaps would give them more confidence to be able to fight off any future danger. It's also understood if the elders had not been Malabah the traveler from the city, then to a certain extent, they were guilty, because they didn't give the person that feeling of being important, being valued, being seen, and therefore perhaps on some level, morally, if not literally, Shafkul Asadam Azam. Ad Khan, I hope, a comprehensive, somewhat, and full interpretation of these three different questions to help us appreciate Agla Arufa. Elul is always a heavy time of the year. Some has ended, people are returning to, from vacations, people are returning to your school, into your Shiva, and Russia's Shana is now a month away. It's always a heavy time, but this past week, Elul, now, is a lot heavier than usual. We're all familiar with the fact that one of the kind of word games that is so popular throughout the ages, Varyasr Bahnam, who have suggested different interpretations for what is the abbreviation of the letters, Elul, Alaflamid, Vavlamid, Elul, most famously Anilidodi, Vadodili, and there are other interpretations, and I saw this year for the first time in one of the mystical early capitalistic type works, the Magala Amukos. He says one of the Russia tables of Elul, Aron, Lujos, Vishivre, Lujos, Aron, Alaf, Lujoslamid, Viv, Vishivre, Vav, Lujoslamid. Elul, Aron, Lujos, Vishivre, Lujos. We know there are two sets of the tablets of the Lujos. The first set, which Moshe had to break, the broken tablets, and then the second one, when Hashem forgives them, and he goes back and he comes down with the second set of Lujos. He says the Magala Amukos on a deeper level. We come into Elul, yes, we have full Lujos, my interpretation. We do have full Lujos. We come with hopefully confidence in the year of success. We come with confidence in anticipation of a future year, but we also enter Elul with shivre, Lujos, with broken Lujos. We look back on the past year of failures and disappointments, and we're a little bit broken. Well, if that's true on a typical year, certainly this year, with the news that hit the Jewish world just a few days before Oshodosh, we entered Elul. We go through this season and we're still carrying very much, not just broken Lujos, but a broken heart. When we all heard the news, Carmel got, Eddene Roshalmi, Alexander Lopanov, Ahlmog Sarussi, Ora, Ori, and of course Hirsch, Holber Polin. We gasped, we cried, and we were shivre Lujos. We were broken. Thinking about the last 11 months, I think the messages of Egla Rufa are certainly appropriate to consider and internalize as we now appreciate them. After all, during this war, going back to the 7th of October, shivin at Sarussi and Christova, and until today, unfortunately, there have been so many people, Nebuch, killed, civilians, heroic soldiers, and on the one hand, gives us a sense of the awesome loss to know what the numbers are. On the other hand, the greater the numbers, the greater the scale of the loss, the easier it is to lose sight of the individuals. But what happened when these six hostages were assassinated, is it reminded us, when we saw the pain of each one of those families, Rahmar al-Utslan, it reminded us exactly of the lesson that the B'Hoshor and Erudaman were teaching us that need to be sensitive to the loss of even one life, even and maybe especially during wartime. Perhaps a silver lining of the fact that of all of the hostages, Hirsch became so well known. Not because his life is worth any more than anyone else's, his death is not any more tragic than anyone else is. They're all equally valuable, and it's all equally tragic. But perhaps the benefit of him having become so familiar to us, of his parents and his so incredibly articulate mother becoming so familiar to all of us, is it gave us a window into the pain of even one family. And that can, in a certain sense, bring us more feeling and connect us more than just thinking about 1200 on Simchas Torah and whatever it's been a few hundred soldiers since then, that's too overwhelming, it can numb us, it's an anonymous number, it's just a statistic. But when you think about an individual loss, it could be Hirsch or anyone's. When you think about it in individual families' pain, whether it's the Goldberg-Polins or any families, that helps remind us of the Kadushasahayim sensitivity we have to have, the pain we have to feel even for the loss of one life. That in a certain sense is even more powerful and more important than thinking about the bigger numbers. So what's the answer? What's the answer? How do we move forward? How can we hopefully turn the corner and have a better year next year? The answer is clearly we need to remain united, we need to tap into the power of the community and not be divided even when we disagree. If I were to have scripted, what would be the worst case scenario from the news of the hostages being killed last week came out? I had to strip the worst case scenario. I would have described exactly what did happen as large parts of the Israeli population into some extent even the world jury, but certainly the Israeli community, large parts of it. Fighting with each other, criticizing each other in very, very graphic and painful ways, we're ripping ourselves apart. We're totally divided and we need to remember the quote and the message of the Maharal. If you think that the right thing to do now is to make any deal, no matter how much we have to give up, prisoners, Philadelphia courters, whatever, because we need to get them out now. That doesn't mean you're weak or a defeatist. And if you disagree with that and you think as sad as it may be for the sake of the greater good so that there should be future hostages in future October 7, we can't let out blood thirsty murderers from our jails. We can't give up an important strategic location like the Philadelphia court. If that's how you feel, that doesn't make you a murderer, that doesn't make you uncaring or cruel. I have said from the beginning in my earliest shurim even on the halachic issues involved in such a decision that this is an impossible decision, truly, salamonic. I am not sure I can think of a single other example in recent or even ancient history and I don't even know how many years where Jewish leaders or a leader has to make a decision this difficult and this impossible. Both choices are bad. Both choices are wrong. Both choices are right. It's just impossible. How do you choose? I don't know. And luckily no one's actually asking me. I don't know really what's right. It's clearly a conflict. It's clearly an impossible situation. But what I do know is that we need to respect the other side, even those who disagree with us, not demonize them. I'm not sure what's better for the Jewish people. What's better for the war? I don't know. Make a deal, not make a deal. Like I said, barah Hashem, no one's asking me what to do. That I'm not sure of. But I do know that what we're doing is wrong. Ripping ourselves apart, that is not the answer. You need to stay together as the morale taught us. If we can try to remember that lesson where we really were those first weeks and early months after October 7, when we were more united than in any of our lifetimes, probably a statement I made then and I still stand behind it. But unfortunately, we've lost that. If we can get back to that, if it was so clear to us 11 months ago, then hopefully as Elle winds down and heads towards Tishre, hopefully it will truly be a period in which we can look back on and say, "Tikla Shana Vakilo-Saha, this horrible, cursed year, will have ended and hopefully soon we will start Tahoshana-Uberah-Saha, a new year filled with blessing, peace, victory, and halavai, a safe return of all of the hostages.