----- Original Message -----
From: David Hillel Nadoff
To: toratimecha@yahoogroups.com
Sent: Sunday, May 10, 2009 6:33 PM
Subject: [Torat Imecha] A Sukkah Tale for Yom Yerushalayim





Last fall, my family and I were guests in the sukkah of an alumnus of Beit Medrah Gevoha-Lakewood who, for decades, has continued learning in one of its satellite kollels. With us were my host's son-in-law, a current talmid of Lakewood, and his father in-law, the venerable rav of a significant Torah community. Together with our respective families, we comprised a rather substantial gathering.

Having not quite the yeshiva world pedigree of the others, I was feeling a bit insecure as we convened for Kiddush. I was relieved, however, and perhaps emboldened when a D'var Halacha I offered concerning the sukkah blessing was rather well received.{1} After that, our seuda progressed pleasantly enough and, when the bochrim in our midst completed a particularly soulful rendition of "L'maan Achai V'rei'ai", I was feeling sufficiently at ease to challenge them with a question.

With closed eyes lifted heavenward, the young men had sung, "For the sake of my brothers and friends, I will now say, 'Peace be within you.' For the sake of the house of the Lord our God, I will earnestly seek good for you." (Psalms 122:8-9.) When their rapture subsided, I asked if they could tell me to whom the pronoun "you" refers in their song. To my chagrin, a protracted, deafening silence ensued. I wouldn't say it was an embarrassed or pensive silence. It seemed more like a glaring or defiant silence, as if to say, "You dare ask us, gemara students, a Tanach question? Do you seriously believe it is the meaning of the words we lift from Tehilim that inspires our song?" As these thoughts passed through my mind, the silence was finally broken by my host, who sheepishly volunteered a answer to my question: "The Toira?"

I had directed my question to the youngsters because I took it for granted that the answer was well known to their elders. But no, the only adult to venture even so much as a guess in fact did not know, though I consider him a very learned and thoughtful man. Even as I informed the group that the subject of the song is actually Yerushalayim, and not the Torah, I felt that my placement of the lyric in its true scriptural context was a clumsy intrusion on their pious assembly, an unintended offense to their religious world-view and an implicit critique of their approach to Torah. To the apparent relief of all, I promptly dropped the subject, even as I mentally invoked the sages' dictum on irreverent usage of biblical verses: "The Torah dons sackcloth and stands before the Holy One, Blessed is he, saying, 'Your children have made me like a harp on which scoffers play.'" (Sanhedrin 101a.)

The 122nd chapter of Tehilim, from which the song is taken, is one of King David's odes to Jerusalem. (See also Tehilim 132.){2} Yet in that sukkah, Yerushalayim seemed like a vague abstraction; a chimerical shadow vanquished by the glare of what some take for Torah. One scarcely believed or cared to reflect that Yerushalayim might be the subject of King David's impassioned verse. Surely, it must have been the compelling concreteness of Torah, in all its exclusive comprehensiveness, that so moved our ancient monarch. For what but Torah so commands our attention, motivates our striving and evokes our deepest emotions? Such were my pained reflections as I silently beseeched: "Harachaman Hu yakim lanu et sukkat David Hanofalet / May the Merciful One erect for us the fallen sukkah of David."

One would have thought I might see my way to keeping still for the balance of the visit. And, indeed, I would have, but for the host's insistence that I share some Divrei Machshava on a theme of the Yom Tov. Giving in at last,{3} I discussed a teaching of Sefat Emet regarding the practice on Hoshana Rabba of setting aside the arba minim and circling the alter (or nowadays, the Torah) with nothing but aravot (Sukkah 42b, 45a). In contrast to the arba minim, which symbolize the unification of all classes of Israelites, the aravot, which lack both flavor and fragrance, are emblematic of the least distinguished in Israel – those who have neither Torah knowledge nor good deeds to their credit. Sefat Emet explains this as follows:

"The sages chose the arava, rather than any of the other species, even though it corresponds to those lacking both flavor and fragrance, because this is truly more indicative of that which binds the Children of Israel to Hashem Yitbarach. ... The point is that even without deeds, but simply on account of their essential being, the Children of Israel cleave mightily [to God], more than all other nations. This is clarified on Sukkot ... and the Children of Israel rejoice more over this feature impressed in their nature by creation than they do over anything they merit by their deeds. For what can the act of mere flesh and blood accomplish ...?" (Sefat Emet, Sukkot 5634, s.v. Mitzvat Arava; see also ibid. 5646, s.v. B'yom Hoshana Rabba.)

Elsewhere Sefat Emet adds:

"The primary strength of Israel lies mainly in Hashem Yitbarach's having chosen us. Even though a person's submission and striving to serve is God's primary desire, one should not think that he thereby becomes closer to Hashem Yitbarach. All acts of service are nullified in the face of the choice of us that Hashem Yitbarach made." (Ibid., Bamidbar 5631.)

After paraphrasing the preceding insights, I was about to continue with a related teaching of Sefat Emet regarding Eretz Yisrael,{4} by which I hoped to bring the discussion full circle, back to Yerushalayim. It became apparent, however, that my remarks were not sitting well with the crowd when the son-in-law, citing Ramchal, asserted that the Jew cleaves to God only through Torah study and mitzva observance.{5}

In response, I explained that the subject must be approached on two levels: (1) being/segula (inherent chacter); and (2) doing/bechira (free will). In terms of segula, God's choice of Israel is an absolute fact, which constitutes Israel's creation as a national entity endowed with a specific Israelite essence and an inherent affinity for a particular land, also the chosen of God. Every individual Israelite, every community of them and each of their generations necessarily participates in and is conditioned by the character of Israel as such. This is matter of essential being, independent of any individual or collective exercise of free will (other than the absolute will of God). Indeed, Clal Yisrael has no free will in this regard. (See Akeidat Yitzchak, Nitzavim; Sichot Harav Tzvi Yehuda, Moadim, Vol. 2, p. 78.) In this respect, Israel is identified as one of the primordial entities that God conceived as a fixed essence prior to the creation of the world and even the Torah. (Bereishit Raba 1:5 or, in some editions, 1:4; Tana D'bei Eliyahu Raba, Chapter 14.) Thus, we recite in the daily Torah blessing: "... Who chose us from all the nations and gave us His Torah ...," giving priority to Israel.

In terms of bechira, however, we are recipients of Torah; free agents commanded to carry out the revealed will of God. This is not an external imposition, requiring that we abandon or transform our true nature and submit to a foreign will. On the contrary, Torah follows Israel precisely because it is nothing but the expression and practical specification of the essential content of the Israelite chacter impressed in its very being as a unique divine creation. (See Sichot HaRav Tzvi Yehuda, Devarim, pp. 42-4, 97, 186, 290-2, 458; see also ibid., Shemot pp. 107-9, 184-5.) It is for this reason that Israel is not just a witness to the revelation of Torah. Rather, as the master of Torah Shebaal Peh, which plots the course of its development over time, Israel actively shapes the ongoing disclosure of that revelation, which is in fact revelation not only of God's will, but of Israel's being as well.{6}

In choosing the path of Torah (positive bechira) one is true to and actualizes his innermost Israelite nature (segula) and thereby realizes his inherent Divine connection. In choosing an alternative path (negative bechira), one alienates himself from his own essence and represses his Divine bond. Nevertheless, his essence is unchanged and, despite himself, he continues to cleave to God. One cannot be other than what he is, even if he chooses to behave otherwise. That is, segula always trumps bechira.

Sadly, as Rav Tzvi Yehuda Kook observes, "The concept of 'Am Segula' is difficult to understand, even for those who sit in yeshiva." (Sichot HaRav Tzvi Yehuda, Shemot p. 189.) I was thus assailed at this point with barrage of objections – rather hostile ones, I felt –from my incredulous audience: "Where is it written that Clal Yisrael was created before the world?" "Of what value is an unexpressed Jewish essence?" "Of course Clal Yisrael has free choice, just like any other group whose members can get together and decide whatever they want." Etc. {7}

It felt the time had come to let it go, before heated questions morphed into angry declarations, and so I did, regretting all the while that I never got to explain how all of this leads back to Yerushalayim.{8} Perhaps another time, if I dare.