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Torah Musings Digest
Thinking About Jewish Texts and Tradition | Edited by: Rabbi Gil Student © 2026 |
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by R. Gidon Rothstein
A Mishnah on Bechorot 28b—a Mishnah, not some side topic I picked because it’s easy to discuss—speaks of when a judge makes an error. The Mishnah says the ruling stands, and the judge must repay, unless he is a mumcheh le-beit din, someone of established credentials. Of the many places the ensuing discussion could take us, I am most interested here in the definition of the levels of error.
The sugya on this Mishnah focuses on the judge having to repay the damage. The Gemara says this could be the view of R. Meir, garmi, directly causing damage, obligates repayment as if one created the damage. Or, the judge might have taken an action to enact the verdict, such as feeding a carcass to the dogs after ruling it terefah.
The next Mishnah, same page, tells where R. Tarfon did exactly that. When the sages of Yavneh heard about it, they said he had gotten the facts wrong, removal of an animal’s womb does not make it terefah, citing a doctor named Todros, who said the people of Alexandria removed the uteruses of all cows and pigs they exported, to avoid others breeding these fine quality animals.
R. Tarfon assumed he had to repay, but R. Akiva said he did not, because he was a mumcheh le-beit din, a court-recognized authority. In the Gemara, the formal authority to judge came from the Resh Galuta, head of the Exile; in later times, being appointed rabbi of a community counted to indemnify the judge, Aruch HaShulchan wrote in Choshen Mishpat 25;2; or, the litigants’ voluntary agreement to have him judge the case would do it as well.
People Have Thought It Through, Differently
The Gemara adds another possibility for why R. Tarfon would be exempt, the error was so egregious, the verdict could be reversed. (Where it could not, such as where the “winner” is powerful enough to refuse, we would need the court expert reason).
Or, our case could have been an error be-shikul ha-da’at. Literally, those words mean the weighing of one’s thoughts, but Rashi cites Sanhedrin 6a, where the Gemara explains it to be an unresolved debate between tanna’im or amora’im (the only kinds of authorities the Gemara knows), where sugya de-alma, a blurry term, went one way and this judge another.
Kessef Mishneh has Rashi holding sugya de-alma means most judges follow one view, and this judge did not realize, where Tur adopts what Kessef Mishneh thinks is Rif’s opinion, sugya de-alma means the flow of the Talmudic sugya, the Gemara basing its questions on this perspective, implies it is the more correct one.
Rif also said required an element of error to this judge’s view. Where there is not, another Talmudic phrase comes into play, kevar horah zaken, an elder (a reputable authority) has already ruled, and a ruling has standing.
Rambam, Laws of Sanhedrin 6;1-2, held that the judge had to have not known of the consensus for it to be an error of shikul ha-da’at. If he knew and ruled the other way anyway, Rambam implies, even though no formal process codified that view, it would still be an error bi-dvar Mishnah.
Kessef Mishneh gives us another example of an error of that level, Sanhedrin 6;1, where he gives us Tur in the name of Ra’avad, if the judge had not heard a ruling of the Ge’onim, and would have followed their view had he heard, it counts as to’eh bi-dvar Mishnah. [A reminder of how authoritative the Ge’onim once were.]
Rosh moves the end date later, to’eh bi-dvar Mishnah includes any precedent this judge would have accepted had he known it. Shulchan Aruch, Choshen Mishpat 25;1 seems to accept Rosh’s view, since he speaks of a matter clear in Mishnah, Gemara, or divrei ha-poskim, words of the authorities, with no time period restriction.
The Right to Argue
Rema adds a wrinkle. Based on another view of Rosh, quoted by his son, the Tur, Rema says if the judge and the members of his generation have clear proofs to the contrary of the earlier authorities, and he is of stature, he has the right to disagree, since the ruling was not in the Gemara. [So many debatable terms, such as what proofs are clear, who counts as “members of his generation,” and what is sufficient stature.] Aruch HaShulchan allows even a lone judge, if knowledgeable and insightful enough, to come to his own conclusions.
Still, says Rema, where a stringency has spread, we should not treat it lightly, unless a person has a tradition from his teachers not to follow it. Where a community follows a lenient view, based on one Torah scholar’s having ruled for them this way, if another scholar thinks they should no longer accept it as permitted, a responsum of Rashba said we should refrain.
Further, he explicitly decries someone who says, well, it’s a debate, so I’ll take the position I want. This is a false verdict, says Rema, unless the judge in question is knowledgeable and expert enough to bring proofs for the view he adopts.
Rema gives another example of where the truth is not as settled as it seems, later authorities disagreeing with earlier ones, on a matter the earlier ones had ruled about in writing. As Maharik recorded, the Gemara tells us to follow later authorities in such situations, because the later ones saw what the earlier ones had said, evaluated their views, and came to a different conclusion.
That means, though, that if we find a ruling of an earlier authority unknown to the later ones, we cannot be sure they would have rejected it if they had seen it, and would have to evaluate it anew, or just follow it.
A Right Rejected
Aruch HaShulchan, 25;13, brings up the possibility of a litigant insisting he follows a view favorable to his claims. AH isn’t willing to analyze the whole concept here, but what is clear to him is that the litigant may not say it where an individual authority opposes a clear consensus, nor where the view the litigant claims to adopt had been excluded from Shulchan Aruch. More, the litigant must have some recognized Torah scholar who agrees with him/her.
Otherwise, says AH, no judge will ever be able to rule, because each litigant will find prior authorities who take their side, and say kim li.
It Has to Be a Torah Way of Thinking
A last point: Among the reasons Tzitz Eliezer rejects using non-Jewish courts, 12;82, he notes a responsum of Mahariaz Enzil (a student of the Ketzot, 1790-1858), who pointed out that those judges’ whole way of thinking has been shaped by a different legal system. We cannot trust them even on matters where we have to reason our way to answer, because they don’t think in the Torah way.
We are left with an elaborate system for how to react to judges’ errors, depending on their qualifications, their permissions, their acceptance by the litigants. And also as a function of the kind of error, ranging from so obvious as to not constitute a ruling (to be not even wrong, as the phrase goes), to so debatable the judge has the right to his view even if it is not that of the mainstream.
Truth isn’t always clear.
by R. Gil Student
I. Stormy Times
By the time Sukkos began this year, a major nor’easter storm was already affecting the East Coast. Forecasters had been warning for several days that a slow-moving coastal storm would bring heavy rain, strong winds and coastal flooding from the Mid-Atlantic into New England. The storm continued through Yom Tov into Chol Hamoed, bringing repeated periods of rain and wind across the region. That raises a question about how to view that rain.
The Sages describe rain on Sukkos as a siman kelalah, a sign of curse. Does that description apply to a nor’easter that meteorologists had tracked and predicted before Yom Tov and that was already underway as Sukkos began? Or does a storm with that kind of lead-up fall into a different category?
The Mishnah (Sukkah 28b) compares rain on Sukkos to a servant who comes to pour a cup for his master and has the pitcher thrown back in his face. The Gemara (ibid., 29a) explains the image as though the master were saying, “I do not want your service,” i.e., when it rains on Sukkos, Hashem tells us that He does not want our mitzvah of sukkah. In a different Gemara, Rabbi Yehoshua describes rain during Sukkos as a siman kelalah (Ta’anis 2a). Does this mean that every rainstorm on Sukkos carries this meaning? Later authorities offer several approaches.
II. The First Night
Rav Yom Tov ben Avraham Ishbili (Ritva; 14th cen., Spain) cites Rabbeinu Ephraim (12th cen., France) as limiting the siman kelalah to the first night of Sukkos. After the first night, according to this approach, rain is neither a curse nor a blessing. Ritva himself disagrees because he believes that the broader wording of the discussion in Ta’anis refers to any time during the festival (Ritva, Ta’anis 2b, s.v. Amar Rabbi Yehoshua).
Rav Menachem Ha-Meiri (Meiri; 14th cen., France) records a similar view in the name of some Geonim. This approach finds special significance in the first night because eating in the sukkah then constitutes an absolute obligation. During the rest of Sukkos, the obligation to eat in the sukkah generally arises when one chooses to eat a meal of the kind that requires a sukkah (Meiri, Ta’anis 2a).
Rambam (12th cen., Egypt), in his commentary on the Mishnah (Ta’anis 1:1), likewise speaks of rain “at the beginning of Sukkos” as a negative sign. His formulation points toward a more limited period at the opening of the festival rather than every instance of rain throughout all seven days.
III. Sudden Rain
Rav Ya’akov Ettlinger (19th cen., Germany) quotes Chemdas Ha-Yamim, a controversial early eighteenth-century kabbalistic work, as recording a tradition that the Mishnah’s comparison applies when the weather had been dry beforehand and clouds suddenly gathered as the festival began. Rain that had already begun before Yom Tov and continued into Sukkos is described instead as “gishmei ratzon, berachah u-nedavah, rains of favor, blessing and bounty” (Bikkurei Ya’akov 639:39).
Sudden rain beginning with the arrival of Sukkos closely resembles the Mishnah’s image of a master immediately rejecting the servant’s attempted service. Rain that belongs to an existing weather pattern has a different character and can retain its ordinary positive meaning as beneficial rain. Perhaps the emphasis lies in the sudden and unexpected nature of the rain. If so, it has implications for this year. The nor’easter was forecasted several days before Sukkos, giving people time to prepare for the storm. According to the view quoted by Rav Ettlinger, this seems to resemble rain that had already developed before the festival and then continued into Sukkos, which is a blessing and not a curse.
Rav Ettlinger also discusses the first night from another angle. Rema (16th cen., Poland) rules that one should eat an olive’s volume of challah in the sukkah on the first night even when rain falls (gloss to Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chaim 639:5). Rav Ettlinger suggests that, according to this view, first-night rain can become a sign of blessing because the person receives an opportunity to fulfill the mitzvah under difficult conditions and earn greater reward. The negative significance of rain then emerges more strongly when the rain actually exempts a person from the mitzvah.
IV. Curse Despite the Mitzvah
Rav Ya’akov Reischer (18th cen., Germany) argues that the Mishnah in Ta’anis is clear that rain on Sukkos is always a sign of curse. However, he points out that someone who fails to perform a mitzvah out of duress receives reward for the mitzvah as long as he intended to fulfill it. He briefly considers distinguishing between rain that starts after a person has already begun the mitzvah and rain that was already falling beforehand, but he rejects that distinction. The Mishnah speaks generally of rain during Sukkos as a sign of curse, including circumstances in which the rain precedes the actual performance of the mitzvah (Shevus Ya’akov, vol. 2, no. 10).
Rav Reischer separates the meaning of the rain from the religious standing of the individual. The rain is a negative sign because Heaven has interrupted the mitzvah and, in the imagery of the Mishnah, rejected the service at that moment. Yet the person who wished to perform the mitzvah and was prevented by an unavoidable circumstance is treated as though he had performed it. Even during rain that is a curse, you can still fulfill the mitzvah through your intent.
Rav Shalom Perlow of Koidanov (20th cen., Russia) disagrees with Rav Reischer, who assumes that the curse applies everywhere in the world. Rav Perlow suggests that rain on Sukkos is only a curse in Israel where rain on Sukkos is unusual (Mishmeres Shalom 43:1). Rav Yechiel Epstein (20th cen., Russia) likewise parenthetically quote some who say that it is only a curse in Israel. However, the many authorities, such as Rav Reischer, who assume it applies in their diaspora locations presumably disagree.
V. A Curse or a Blessing?
According to Rabbeinu Ephraim and the Geonim, the central issue is the first night of Sukkos. Rain then carries the strongest negative significance because it interferes with the absolute obligation to eat in the sukkah. Rambam similarly speaks of rain at the beginning of the festival as the negative sign. On these views, the timing within Sukkos matters more than whether meteorologists saw the storm coming in advance. For those who were prevented from eating in the sukkah on the first night, the rain appears to be a negative sign according to these views.
Rav Ettlinger quotes a view that rain that begins suddenly as Sukkos arrives resembles the servant whose master rejects his service. Rain that was already developing before Yom Tov and then continues into the festival can instead be regarded as a sign of blessing. This year’s nor’easter fits that description particularly well because the storm was tracked for days and was already affecting the region as Sukkos began. Rav Ettlinger also raises the possibility that first-night rain can itself be a blessing when the obligation to eat in the sukkah remains in force and the difficulty increases the reward for the mitzvah.
Rav Reischer understands the Mishnah in Ta’anis to mean that rain on Sukkos is a sign of curse regardless of when the rain began. The fact that the storm was forecasted in advance does not change that status. At the same time, the person who sincerely intended to fulfill the mitzvah and was prevented by rain receives credit for the mitzvah. The rain can therefore be a negative sign while the individual still receives the reward of faithful intention.
So was this year’s nor’easter a curse? For Rabbeinu Ephraim, the Geonim and Rambam, the timing within Sukkos matters most: rain at the start of the festival, especially the first night, is the negative sign, whatever the forecast. Ritva applies it to rain at any point during Sukkos. Rav Ettlinger's quoted view gives strong reason to call this year's storm a blessing, since it was already developing before Yom Tov. For Rav Reischer, it remains a negative sign, though anyone prevented from sitting in the sukkah keeps the reward of the mitzvah. The answer depends on which factor receives emphasis: when the rain began, when during Sukkos it fell, or whether it prevented the mitzvah.
by R. Ephraim Glatt, Esq.
Question: Should one recite a b'rachah every time he takes a shower?
by R. Eliezer Simcha Weisz
There is a word in Tanach that describes a person’s ability to think ahead, make plans and find a way to achieve what he wants: tachbulot.
A tachbulah is more than a good idea. It means thinking a few steps ahead, seeing what might help, and figuring out how to get where you want to go.
We find this idea already at the very beginning of the Torah, in Gan Eden.
There were two special trees in Gan Eden: the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (Eitz HaDaas) and the Tree of Life (Eitz HaChaim). Hashem commanded Adam HaRishon HaRishon not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge. He was not forbidden to eat from the Tree of Life.
The Torah tells us:
וּמֵעֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע לֹא תֹאכַל מִמֶּנּוּ כִּי בְּיוֹם אֲכָלְךָ מִמֶּנּוּ מוֹת תָּמוּת
"But from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil you shall not eat from it, for on the day that you eat from it, you shall surely die." (Bereishis 2:17)
After Adam HaRishon ate from the Tree of Knowledge, the Torah says:
וְעַתָּה פֶּן־יִשְׁלַח יָדוֹ וְלָקַח גַּם מֵעֵץ הַחַיִּים וְאָכַל וָחַי לְעֹלָם
"And now, lest he stretch out his hand and take also from the Tree of Life, and eat and live forever." (Bereishis 3:22)
The Ohr HaChaim HaKadosh asks a basic question: If Adam HaRishon was allowed to eat from the Tree of Life, why didn't he do so before? Why did the concern that he might take from it arise only after the sin?
The Ohr HaChaim explains that before the sin, Adam HaRishon did not yet have the awareness that would lead him to think about how to improve his situation and look for ways to achieve it:
"כי הוא מושלל מההכרה והידיעה לבקש תחבולות לעלות ברומי הצלחות גופיות"
Before the sin, he did not yet have the awareness to think of ways to attain greater material success.
After the sin, something changed. He now had a new awareness. He could think about what might benefit him and how he could get it. That raised the possibility that he might also think of taking from the Tree of Life so that he could live forever.
This is the point the Ohr HaChaim is making. He is not only explaining why Adam HaRishon did not eat from the Tree of Life. He is explaining why the thought did not occur to him in the first place. Before the sin, he did not yet have this way of thinking — looking at a situation, figuring out what might help, and then looking for a way to achieve it.
After the sin, the Torah tells us:
וַיְשַׁלְּחֵהוּ ה' אֱלֹקִים מִגַּן־עֵדֶן... וְאֵת לַהַט הַחֶרֶב הַמִּתְהַפֶּכֶת לִשְׁמֹר אֶת־דֶּרֶךְ עֵץ הַחַיִּים
"And He drove out the man... and the flaming sword that turns in every direction, to guard the way to the Tree of Life." (Bereishis 3:24)
Adam HaRishon left Gan Eden with a new ability: to think ahead, make plans and find ways to accomplish things. But the way to the Tree of Life was now blocked.
The Tree of Knowledge gave man the ability to think about how to get what he wanted. The Tree of Life reminds him that there are things he cannot achieve on his own.
We are expected to use the intelligence Hashem gave us. We have to think, plan and make an effort. But we also have to remember that our abilities, our success and the final outcome are all in Hashem's hands.
And this brings us to war.
Shlomo HaMelech says:
כִּי בְתַחְבֻּלוֹת תַּעֲשֶׂה־לְּךָ מִלְחָמָה וּתְשׁוּעָה בְּרֹב יוֹעֵץ
"For with plans you wage war, and salvation comes through much counsel."
(Mishlei 24:6)
War makes this especially clear.
One side makes a plan. The other side tries to figure it out. One side comes up with a new idea; the other looks for a way to counter it. Every move leads to another move.
In the war we are fighting today, we have seen extraordinary examples of this: intelligence, technology, deception, long-term planning and operations that depended on thinking several steps ahead.
One striking example was the pager operation against Hezbollah in September 2024, followed by the explosions involving its walkie-talkies. Thousands of devices used by Hezbollah exploded in two waves. The operation was widely attributed to Israel, although Israel never officially claimed responsibility.
The details of the operation are not the point here. The point is to see what can be accomplished when intelligence, technology and careful planning are brought together.
But the enemy also plans. It digs tunnels, hides weapons, changes its methods and looks for new ways to surprise us.
That is the reality of war. One move leads to another.
The Torah tells us:"כִּי בְתַחְבֻּלוֹת תַּעֲשֶׂה־לְּךָ מִלְחָמָה""For with plans you wage war."
We are supposed to think, plan, seek advice, gather information and prepare. Hashem gave us intelligence and ability, and we are meant to use them. That is hishtadlus.
But hishtadlus does not take away from emunah. We do what we can, while remembering that even the ability to make the effort comes from Hashem. The Torah warns us :
וְאָמַרְתָּ בִּלְבָבֶךָ כֹּחִי וְעֹצֶם יָדִי עָשָׂה לִי אֶת־הַחַיִל הַזֶּה. וְזָכַרְתָּ אֶת־ה' אֱלֹקֶיךָ כִּי הוּא הַנֹּתֵן לְךָ כֹּחַ לַעֲשׂוֹת חָיִל
"And you may say in your heart: My strength and the might of my hand have made me this wealth. But you shall remember Hashem your G-D, for He is the One who gives you the strength to accomplish." (Devarim 8:17–18)
The Torah is not telling us that we have no strength. It is telling us where that strength comes from.
There is no contradiction between bitachon in Hashem and hishtadlus. We think, plan and act — but we never forget Who gives us the ability to do so.
Shlomo HaMelech says:
רַבּוֹת מַחֲשָׁבוֹת בְּלֶב־אִישׁ וַעֲצַת ה' הִיא תָקוּם
"Many are the plans in a person's heart, but Hashem's plan will prevail."
(Mishlei 19:21)
We make plans. We think ahead. We try to work out what will happen next.
But ultimately, Hashem's plan will prevail.
We saw this in a striking way in the recent Flydubai incident. A flight from Dubai to Tel Aviv, carrying 174 passengers, was suddenly thrown into danger when an attacker on board became violent. The captain was injured, the aircraft rapidly lost altitude, and passengers and crew had to act quickly to restrain the attacker. The plane was diverted and made an emergency landing in Tabuk, Saudi Arabia.
There was extraordinary human effort and quick thinking. People did what they could. But an event like this also reminds us of the limits of human control. We can plan, react and make every effort — but ultimately, the outcome is in Hashem's hands.
That is how Klal Yisrael has to live as well.
We cannot rely on miracles and use that as an excuse not to make an effort. We have to build, plan, defend, research, develop, think and act. We have to use every ability Hashem has given us.
But we must never forget where those abilities come from.
We make our plans and do our hishtadlus. But ultimately, Hashem's plan always prevails.
This brings us back to the two trees in Gan Eden: the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (Eitz HaDaas) and the Tree of Life (Eitz HaChaim).
Eitz HaDaas gave man the ability to think, plan and look for ways to achieve what he wanted. That ability is part of our responsibility in this world. We are not meant to sit back. We are meant to use our minds and make the effort.
But Eitz HaChaim teaches us something deeper: knowing how to find a way is not the same as knowing where life comes from.
Life itself is a gift from Hashem. Our intelligence, our strength, our resourcefulness and everything we accomplish are also gifts from Him.
The way to Eitz HaChaim was blocked, but its message remains.
We make our plans. We make our hishtadlus. But Hashem's plan always prevails.
The ability to find a way is our hishtadlus.
The ability to make the effort comes from Hashem.
And success is through siyata diShmaya.
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by R. Gidon Rothstein
Parshat Bereshit
Over the course of seven years, in this space, I have collected and summarized ideas from a range of commentaries on the weekly portion, and now I can admit the truth: It’s all been building to this year. While each specific comment was interesting, what I really wanted to see was how they would/could hang together.
Taking the comments we’ve seen, I want this year to use as many as I can, see what larger picture they build. I will try not to force it, omit comments that really don’t fit any overall narrative, but my goal is to see what the parsha looks like given all we have seen.
It’s part of what has become a sort of quest, a search for what Torah says to us when we listen to it rather than ask it for what we want to hear. I worry we often find what we want, consciously or not, rather than let it speak to us. Our greatest Torah scholars might do it, too, but their genius means they produce masterpieces of authentic Torah, but still, of Torah they were prone to find.
[Maybe that’s why the Gemara says a Torah scholar’s Torah belongs to him.]
How do we find what the Torah is saying? My answer, which I work on agonizingly slowly, is randomness. The more randomly I let Torah ideas come to me, the more likely it is that those are not ones I am imposing or seeking out. When I started this finding five Rashi’s a parsha, and later three Rambans, etc., especially when I made a point of taking the first ones I could present in a way I thought would interest readers, I am still the one choosing, but I am, I hope, reducing my role in the process.
After seven cycles of that, with commentators of different bents, approaches, concerns, and historical backgrounds, I hope and believe we will get some more overarching insight even than “great rabbi so-and-so said such-and-such.”
But the proof will be in the pudding, so let’s get started. A reminder: our library of commentaries consists of: Rashi (five per parsha), Onkelos (ditto), Ramban and Mesech Chochmah (three each), and then one each of Ibn Ezra, Sforno, Klei Yakar Ohr HaChayyim, Ha-Ketav Ve-Ha-Kabbalah, Chatam Sofer, Malbim, R. Samson Raphael Hirsch, Netziv, and R. Ya’akov Kamenetzky. Play ball!
For Parashat Bereshit, it seems to me we get a discussion of four main topics, in greater or lesser depth: God, Torah, people, and the world. Let’s take each for itself.
God
In our learning, the commentator who most consistently reacted to the Torah’s references to God, so much that I generally did not include it, is Onkelos. In this parsha, I was still noticing it. Onkelos translated both the four-letter Name of God (YHVH) and the Elokim Name with the same two-yod word, other than where they appeared together, when he used Elokim for Elokim. He apparently chose not to try to define the differences among Names of God.
We understand why when we see his rendering of the elohim the serpent defines as what the Tree will make Chava and Adam if they eat from it. While Rashi takes it to mean they will become world creators, similar to Hashem, Onkelos writes ke-ravrevin, like ministers, avoiding the divine sense of the word. He also refuses to take the snake’s reference to God “knowing” literally, writes it will be known before God
People can never be like God, and God is too far beyond us for us to describe.
Kli Yakar’s reading of Creation shares some of these elements. His understanding of the first verse of the Torah relies on Rashi’s idea that the world was created for Torah and the Jewish people. Because, says Kli Yakar, those are the surest paths to any knowledge of God. There is a third way, he concedes, fully understanding the Great Chain of Being, by and large beyond our capabilities, therefore available only to angels.
On the other hand, when God “regrets” creating humanity, at the end of the parsha, Ha-Ketav Ve-Ha-Kabbalah used commentarial dexterity to construe it to mean Hashem decided to have compassion, give people more of a chance before raining destruction. Although Hashem does eventually “have” to bring the Flood, the verse was telling us it came only after extending extra opportunities to improve and avert it.
A God we cannot describe meaningfully, nor approach or become anything like, in God’s terms. Whom we find through one of three paths, the more accessible ones being the Torah and Jewish people. But Who we are told had unwarranted compassion on people before destroying them, because of their being His creations.
A first view of God, from our commentators on Bereshit.
Torah
Only two comments we saw speak of the Torah itself, but one of them was Ramban’s lengthy introduction to his commentary, where he made significant, far-reaching claims: Torah predates the world; it was dictated to Moshe by God, word for word (hence the third-person narration, in contrast to other prophets, who speak in the first person); it contains all wisdom (all the sciences, all that later prophets would share, and more); that wisdom is found through the Torah’s writing, the extra letters or missing ones, the presence of a vav or not; its having been written as one long word, with multiple options for how to divide it up, each with a new level of insight; and it consists of Names of God.
In line with what we saw in Onkelos, above, Ramban thinks the one gate of wisdom not granted to Moshe (tradition said he was given forty-nine of fifty gates) was full knowledge of God, as God Himself says to Moshe later in the Torah, no human can “see” God and live.
Rashi’s comment on the first verse also addresses what Torah does and doesn’t cover. Although the R. Yitzchak he quoted thought the Torah should start with the first mitzvah, which assumes this is a book of law only, his answer—Bereshit comes to show how God gave the Land of Israel to the Jewish people—opens the door to realizing Torah teaches us law and other important matters, to be defined as we go along.
The divine Torah, dictated to Moshe, containing much more meaning than we often realize, far beyond the pure lawbook some might confuse it with.
The Nature of People, Before and After the Tree
More of the comments we’ve studied look at people, their nature, potential, flaws, and failings, than any other topic. Onkelos and Rashi understood the nefesh chayah Hashem “blew” into Adam to be the ability to speak, a higher soul than nonverbal animals. For Onkelos, eating from the Tree gave the capacity to know good and evil, but they would have to earn whatever wisdom it is on their own. Where, as we saw earlier, Rashi thought they would be world-creators, an idea he does not elaborate.
In the Torah’s description of their creation, Rashi spotted a reference to people’s being both of this world and the World to Come, the lower physical realms and the upper spiritual ones. After they ate, Rashi thinks God prevented them from eating of the Tree of Life because were they immortal, others would think they were divine, would be misled into thinking of them as gods.
Back to the Tree and what it would do to or for them, Chatam Sofer thought the ban would have lasted only until Shabbat. Had they waited a day, their first taste of the Tree would have been with a neshamah yeterah, an extra push to serving God properly, a boost to give them better control over the freewill the Tree endowed in them, would have allowed them to channel it more often in better directions.
Ibn Ezra seems to spot the possibility of people overcoming the handicap of having eaten from the Tree. The Torah’s description of God taking Chanoch indicates an esoteric secret, he says, with comments of his elsewhere in Tanach suggesting he thought some special people do not die in the ordinary sense, their soul rather unites with upper beings, who have no physicality. The higher realm aspect of ourselves we mistreated when we ate of the Tree, for Ibn Ezra, is still available, if we live properly.
Sin, How It Starts, How It Stays
In the event, they did sin, thanks to the serpent. Trying to figure out the serpent’s cunning, Or HaChayyim saw three ways it tricked Chavah, it sowed dissatisfaction with what God had granted them in the Garden, made her doubt she was allowed even what she thought she was allowed, and doubt Adam had told her the truth of what God had said.
Sin, for these two commentators, starts with error. Having landed in the world of sin, Ha-Ketav Ve-Ha-Kabbalah saw the Torah highlighting how hard it can be to extricate ourselves. Although Hashem gave us extra time, as we saw Rhim say earlier, people did not manage to use that time for any notable improvement.
What to Do in the Post-Sin World
Rashi gives the impression Kayin and Hevel took contrasting approaches to God’s cursing the ground after the sin. Kayin kept working it, fought through the curse, where Hevel raised animals instead. Netziv saw advantages to each approach.
Kayin farmed for subsistence, worked only to provide basic needs, Hevel’s shepherd pursued luxuries. In one sense, it is a misplaced focus, and were Kayin to use all his extra time well, in service of God and pursuit of understanding of God, his choice would be better.
However. For many people, batalah, empty time, leads to sin, which always beckons. Compared to that, says Netziv, better to be a Hevel, work hard to earn enough for all the luxuries of that lifestyle. The balance of work/life, necessity/luxury, and how they affect our service of God, Netziv sees in this story.
Choices about how to handle a post-sin world appeared elsewhere. After his failed offering, Sforno spots Hashem’s upbraiding Kayin for his jealousy. The situation having played out as it should, God wanted Kayin to accept what had happened, recognize its propriety, see where and how he could do better, and move on. Reader, Kayin did not.
Nor is it a challenge only a Kayin would fail to meet. In Rashi’s understanding, Chanoch died younger than the other people of his time because his hold on his righteousness was too weak to trust. Rather than leave him to eventually fail, Hashem did him the favor of taking him early, to protect him from himself.
Proper and Improper Sacrifice
Whichever version we adopt, Meshech Chochmah found human effort essential to sacrifice. He pointed out we don’t offer fruit, because it grows wild and would be offered in the form it grew. We do offer wine, because people have processed it, and grains, where the human role in their growth is more prominent.
Malbim found sacrifice to be a human instinct, with Kayin making errors about God fatal to the project. Kayin thought God was a factor helping his success, not the factor; thought God needed the sacrifices in some way; and that it was purely a physical act, needing no emotional or spiritual investment from the giver. Hevel knew the truth of all three.
People and the World
Moving to the nature of the world itself, Meshech Chochmah saw our actions affect nature. Sanhedrin 56b’s relating the prohibition against eating of the Tree to the ban on arayot, improper sexuality, meant the violation of such laws affected the fruit of the Garden itself. And continued throughout history, for Meshech Chochmah, violation of these laws hurts harvests.
He also thinks God commanded Adam to enjoy the Garden, absorb the pleasures of the physical world where permitted, even as human sins impact that world. For him, humanity is interwoven with the physical world, the two affecting each other.
The World God Created
Meshech Chochmah also spotted underlying tensions in creation. The light of Day One ends up being put away for the World to Come, meaning it had no impact on the world we inhabit. He then also laid out ways he thought R. Eli’ezer and R. Yehoshu’a had a consistent disagreement about the creation of this world being from the middle or from the side.
While he does not explain why each would hold his view, he does contrast it to their perspectives of the seat and source of human wisdom, R. Eli’ezer now the one who says it is from the side (the head), R. Yehoshu’a from the heart. Whatever the cause, Meshech Chochmah seems to be seeing an essential difference in the roots of the world’s creation as opposed to human wisdom.
Last, Rashi saw a kind of freewill to Nature, including the tradition the world did not fully follow God’s instructions in producing fruit trees. Another tantalizing comment he does not elaborate.
Between them, the world has underlying workings the Torah reveals, that we would not see on our own, and may not fully understand.
Leaving us with a Parshat Bereshit that introduces us to a God knowable only partially, through certain avenues, including a Torah that pre-dates the world and contains all of God’s wisdom, not just laws, and helps people find their way to God. People who contain aspects of the lower world and higher, the current world and future one, who could have developed farther and faster had they waited for Shabbat to eat of the Tree, but instead put themselves into sin, shaping theirs and the world’s future.
by R. Daniel Mann
Question: Is it permissible to use the same culinary torch (a small handheld butane fire-tool for browning food) for milchig, fleishig, and pareve?
Answer: While there is not much halachic discussion about this relatively new tool, applying the time-tested rules should provide a direction.
One concern is that since the torch is held mere inches from the food, it can unintentionally touch milchig and fleishig food in succession and transfer taste due to the heat. Because the part of the torch from which the flame emerges becomes extremely hot, food that touches does not always have a chance to properly absorb (see Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh Deah 92:6) and possibly the area is considered kashered by continued use (see Hagalat Keilim (Cohen) 13:(85)). However, the parts of the sides of the nozzle are the right temperature to absorb and be affected.
It is critical though that the torch is not meant to touch the food. Admittedly, there are times that Chazal or classical poskim were stringent due to concerns that unintentionally, things would touch or food would fall into food (see Shulchan Aruch and Rama, YD 88:2). On the other hand, Halacha often allows us to allow dangerous proximity. For example, the Shulchan Aruch (YD 108:1) permits roasting slabs of meat and dairy near each other in a somewhat big oven (the Rama prefers avoiding it). Later poskim generally do not turn such concerns into formal prohibitions. So, this concern does not preclude using the torch for both. Of course, if the torch touches a food, one must calculate the consequences. The worst-case scenario is if the sides of the torch touch opposite foods within 24 hours of each other (see Shulchan Aruch, YD 103:5). We will omit further detail.
The other concern is that splatter or vapor will rise from the food up to the torch. As above, the primary concern would be on that which lands on the sides of the nozzle, where splatter would not burn instantly. Regarding vapor, Halacha distinguishes between two types: 1. A relatively dry or non-concentrated vapor, which is called reicha (smell) because the particles that are transferred are noticeable primarily by odor, as our nasal receptors are sensitive to trace quantities of airborne particles. Halachic taste is imparted by such vapor only in certain closed-area circumstances (see Rama, YD 108:1). Higher density liquid (zeiah – “sweat”) can transfer halachic taste between foods and to and from utensils (see Shulchan Aruch, YD 92:8). In short, hot liquids transfer taste; hot air generally does not. My limited research informs me that culinary torches are used to singe/brown only the surface of relatively dry foods, and one must move the flame relatively quickly from place to place. Therefore, it is rare for the torch to produce zeiah, and taste transfer should not occur.
Let us be pessimistic, for the sake of exercise or caution, and assume that occasionally significant milk/meat will reach the sides of the torch nozzle. Even if so, there is no way (other than the torch touching the food) to get it to another piece of food. According to some, if one pours liquid from one utensil to another, the recipient utensil can return some taste to the source utensil. But that is likely a chumra (see Living the Halachic Process V, E-3), and it is unlikely to apply to minimal steam between them. It is plausible that a droplet of condensation will drop from the nozzle to the food, but this small amount would be batel in the food. Although we must not set up situations in which we will have to rely on bitul (Shulchan Aruch, YD 99:5), this is not the case here. We do not expect anything of halachic significance to fall in, and we are just covered by bitul if by chance it does.
Therefore, it appears to be permitted to use the same culinary torch for milchig and fleishig, even though occasionally a problem could arise. Here is our advice for those who prefer chumra/caution. Assuming it is uncommon to use the torch for fleishig, increase the distance from any meaty food you are browning.
לעילוי נשמת יואל אפרים בן אברהם עוזיאל זלצמן ז"ל
