Parshat Bereishit – 5780
Cleaning Up Well
One of the most incredible individuals I have known, was
Rabanit Avigail Rock z”tl. I first met Avigail over 13 years ago when
she and her husband, Rabbi Yehuda Rock joined the Boca Raton community
Kollel. Rabbi Rock, an outstanding and erudite
Talmid chacham served as Rosh Kollel, and Avigail was the founding director of the
women’s division of the Kollel. Her shiurim and lectures were widely attended,
and she remained a frequent guest lecturer there and around the country long
after they returned to their lives in the Gush.
You might remember her from several
years ago, when she served as a Scholar in Residence at our shul. She became a role model to Tziporah and me
during the short window in which we overlapped at the Kollel. Every interaction with her was a teaching
opportunity, one which proved transformative and memorable for us.
I distinctly recall a story she shared during a somewhat
casual interaction - she described that when
she was living in Israel several years before the family’s “shlichut”, her preschool
aged daughter returned home one afternoon, confused by something which had
transpired earlier that day in class.
The morah was teaching the children about various professions,
and then proceeded to ask a select few students to share with the classmates
what their parents did for a living. One
was a רופא (doctor), another was a מלמדת (teacher),
another served as an בונה (builder/contractor).
Suddenly, half a dozen hands shot up into the air, each eager child
could hardly wait to blurt out their parent’s vocation and thereby establish
their bona fides. But there was one little
boy who the morah seemed to have ignored, calling on every child except
for him. This made him even more excited
to the point that he could no longer contain himself and he called out – האבא שלי נהג "אגד"!, with unbridled enthusiasm and beaming
with pride. But the morah seemed
ashamed for the boy, attempting to silence him before he embarrassed himself.
So, Dr. Rock’s daughter, having witnessed
this curious drama, came home and after relating the incident, she remarked
that little boy is so lucky – his father is a bus driver! "כל כך מקסים!, but I
cannot understand why my teacher try to prevent him from sharing this news. Perhaps, she reasoned, other children would
be jealous!
To an innocent child there is no such
thing as kavod. Something we
adults see as honorable is meaningless to them, and there is nothing which is
considered beneath their dignity. There
is no job which may be deemed אינו מכובד.
That is something which they learn in
due time – from us, their teachers.
This story came to mind a few days ago, on אסרו חג as I began the unpleasant task of Sukkah disassembly. For eight blessed days we ate, drank, studied
and napped in this glorious structure. But
pulling down the lights, decorations, schach and walls is inconvenient and
downright depressing work. As the work
of organizing the various pieces was underway, I looked around and piles of zip
ties, leaves and fallen decorations all around.
I thought of the lyric from the classic rock song by The Who, Baba O’Riley
– “Don't cry, Don't raise your eye, It's only teenage wasteland”
a lyric conceived of by Pete
Townshend when he looked upon the chaos and mayhem wrought by the Woodstock
festival.
There is nothing glorious about the post
festival cleanup! And as I considered
this drudgery which lay before me, one of my children remarked – “Abba,
building a Sukkah is much more fun, than taking it down!”
I said – but we are doing a mitzvah now
as well. “What mitzvah is that?” He pressed onward.
I had no answer…this isn’t a mitzvah,
and it isn’t even a hechsher mitzvah – it is grunt work – and I
wondered, aren’t I better than this job?
I should be off delivering some drasha, opening a sefer or visiting with
someone who is sick…
This sort of yetzer hara,
the one that plagued the pre-school teacher in Israel is a prominent voice in
all of our heads. But it is nothing new. Man has long struggled with this notion that
certain tasks are worthy and others are pedestrian and shameful.
The parsha tells us about events which culminated
in the first act of murder, and the first act of fratricide. Brother pitted against brother – how could it
have happened? Especially when there
were so precious few people inhabiting the earth!
וַיֹּ֥אמֶר קַ֖יִן
אֶל־הֶ֣בֶל אָחִ֑יו וַֽיְהִי֙ בִּהְיוֹתָ֣ם בַּשָּׂדֶ֔ה וַיָּ֥קָם קַ֛יִן
אֶל־הֶ֥בֶל אָחִ֖יו וַיַּהַרְגֵֽהוּ׃
Cain said to his brother Abel …
and when they were in the field, Cain set upon his brother Abel and killed him.
Although very little context is
established in the moment, it is pretty clear to us that Kayin’s rage was fueled
by jealousy, having to endure God’s rejection and the favoritism shown to his
younger sibling:
וַיִּ֣שַׁע יְהוָ֔ה
אֶל־הֶ֖בֶל וְאֶל־מִנְחָתֽוֹ׃
The LORD paid heed to Abel and his
offering,
וְאֶל־קַ֥יִן
וְאֶל־מִנְחָת֖וֹ לֹ֣א שָׁעָ֑ה וַיִּ֤חַר לְקַ֙יִן֙ מְאֹ֔ד וַֽיִּפְּל֖וּ
פָּנָֽיו׃
but to Cain and his offering He paid no
heed. Cain was much distressed and his face fell.
What is inexplicable is God’s reaction
to Kayin –
וַיֹּ֥אמֶר יְהוָ֖ה
אֶל־קָ֑יִן לָ֚מָּה חָ֣רָה לָ֔ךְ וְלָ֖מָּה נָפְל֥וּ פָנֶֽיךָ׃
And the LORD said to Cain, “Why are you
distressed, And why is your face fallen?
What exactly is the question? Doesn’t Hashem, the omniscient One know very
well why Kayin is crestfallen and feeling deflated – after all, it was He who favored
Hevel’s advance over Kayin’s in the first place.
R’ Moshe Alshich, in his commentary provides a meaningful window into
this elusive narrative:
The Alshich notes that God didn’t outright reject Kayin’s offering from
the outset. In fact, at first it says
that He paid heed to Hevel – and only afterwards are we told וְאֶל־קַ֥יִן וְאֶל־מִנְחָת֖וֹ לֹ֣א שָׁעָ֑ה. God would have accepted his offering, but when
he realized that Hevel had the better material, Kayin’s disposition became one
of anger – and this led him down a self-destructive path – to the point in
which he lost his human countenance, the one forged in the image of God –
לָ֚מָּה חָ֣רָה לָ֔ךְ
וְלָ֖מָּה נָפְל֥וּ פָנֶֽיךָ
אלשיך על בראשית פרק ד פסוק ו
(ה) והנה היה ראוי לכתוב תחלה שלא שעה
אל קין - שהקריב תחלה, ואחר כך יאמר שאל הבל ואל מנחתו שעה. אך יהיה כי בראות קין
כי שעה אל הבל ואל מנחתו, כיוון גם הוא לכוין כאילו מקריב את עצמו, ולא שוה לו כי
היה מצות אנשים מלומדה. וזהו שאחר אומרו וישע ה' אל הבל ואל מנחתו, אמר ואל קין
ואל מנחתו לא שעה, אז ויחר לקין מאוד. ובבואו לכלל כעס בא לכלל טעות,
….
(ו) ויאמר ה' אל קין למה חרה לך
כו', לומר הנה אם אומר למה פשעת עד גדר נפלו פניך, הלא תענה כי הכעס החטיאך, אך
אעיקרא דדינא פירכא, למה חרה לך שעל ידי כן נמשך היות עליך תביעה אחרת, והיא
ולמה נפלו פניך, ששיחת מאיש מראך ואיבדת צלם אלהים, כי אשר חשבת שהענין תלוי במנחה
אשר תביא, וכעסת על שלא קבלתי, אינך אלא טועה, כי (ז) הלא אם תטיב ותכשיר
מעשיך הוא השאת והמנחה.
Kayin’s sense
of being a subordinate, of offering something less significant had tainted his
own sense of accomplishment – he felt like chopped liver to the point that it
manifested itself in his very attitude.
The Alshich
offers us much more than a way to understand a difficult text – he also gives
us a window into the human psyche and why religious enthusiasm seems to wane. There are certain “offerings” which do not
present themselves to us as the most coveted and sought-after activities. They are often the sort of contributions which
go unnoticed and uncelebrated. Like disassembly
of a Sukkah or cleaning up machzorim after a long Yom Kippur service.
The Alshich
is saying something truly revolutionary!
The only reason why it is not recognized by God is because we see it
as dirty work, beneath our dignity. It
is that attitude which is dangerous and corrosive, not the very endeavor. What Judaism wants from us to bring
enthusiasm and positive attitude into every Jewish engagement – whether they
are the type of activities that come with recognition and pleasure or the parts
of our service which are less hyped and illustrious.
There is no clearer
expression of this ethic than the Terumas HaDeshen – the very first activity
performed by the priests in the Temple each day, before the Tamid Shel Shachar,
is the clearing out of the ashes from the previous day’s service! Why don’t we clean up the night before, why
leave it until the morning? Because the
Torah wants us to know that cleaning the altar every bit as much a holy endeavor
as is the ketoret on Yom Kippur!
In fact, you may not start your day before first engaging in this sort
of work, as well as the clearing out of the old oil and wicks in the menorah.
Recently, the
daf yomi (now in the final mesechta in the cycle) discussed the appointment of
the Kohanim to the various roles within the Temple service and the matter of
choosing the representatives for the Terumas haDeshen arose. The Rabbis noted that it was once a privilege
so universally sought after that they decided to confer the honor via
lottery. But the Talmud notes that it wasn’t
always the case:
תלמוד בבלי מסכת תמיד דף כח עמוד א
דתנן: בראשונה - כל מי שרוצה לתרום את המזבח תורם, בזמן שהן
מרובין - רצין ועולין בכבש, כל הקודם את חבירו בתוך ארבע אמות זכה. היו שנים שוין,
הממונה אומר להם הצביעו! ומה הן מוציאין - אחת או שתים, ואין מוציאין גודל במקדש.
מעשה (ב' היו) +מסורת הש"ס: [בשנים שהיו]+ שוין רצין ועולין בכבש. ודחף אחד
מהם את חבירו ונשברה רגלו, וכשראו בית דין שהיו באים לידי סכנה, התקינו שלא יהו תורמין
את המזבח אלא בפייס.
The mishna continues: That used to be the procedure, but an
incident occurred in which two priests were equal as they
were running and ascending on the ramp; and one of them shoved the other
and he fell, and his leg was broken. And when the court saw that people were
coming to potential danger, they instituted that the priests would
remove the ashes from the altar only by means of a lottery.
Can you imagine a world in which people
are chalishing to clear the shmutz out of the alter – animal fats,
unburned carcasses, charred bird remains… It was so important in their eyes that
it turned violent[1], and
measures had to be put in place to ensure the safety of the Kohanim.
We just finished a whirlwind holiday –
one replete with honors, sought after roles and kibudim. But in the wake of the holiday there is a
great deal of cleanup – from the sukkah, to the machzorim, moved furniture
candy wrappers and other trash.
A few brave souls helped to disassemble the
Sukkah (and they deserve our recognition) but I can assure you, there was no
race up the ramp for this job. And one
woman came to me in tears – she couldn’t understand how a synagogue, “a house of
God” as she referred to it, could be left in such disrepair – it was a
veritable teenage wasteland. I
tried to console her, but she continued – In my Church, this would never
happen!
If you haven’t guessed, that woman was
Milah, our incredible custodian – she believes that she is doing God’s work cleaning
up after a long holiday or Kiddush – the question is, do we also believe that
to be true?
Who is going to help unload 15 boxes of
shaimos this week for the shul? Who is going
to see keeping this place beautiful as a cheilek in the avoda –
whether or not we pay the bills! It’s not
only a matter of watching your children, remember, they will follow our lead. And don’t just clean begrudgingly - לָ֖מָּה
נָפְל֥וּ פָנֶֽיךָ,
do it with a smile, like you are engaged
in an exalted activity.
We have to do a better job here not just
in assembling the majesty of this בית אלוקים, but also in tending to the Terumas HaDeshen. When it comes to honest work in this world,
there is nothing which is beneath us, and this is especially true in our avodat
Hashem.
Comments
Post a Comment