Teshuvah
--It’s Time!By Rav Aharon Kahn, Rosh Yeshiva and Rosh Kollel Elyon
Referring to the posuk: Shuva Yisroel ad HaShem Elokecho, R. Levi proclaims the greatness of teshuvah: Great is repentance for it reaches even unto the Throne of Glory. In this context, "ad" means all the way to. It signifies a complete arrival. "Ad" and "el"both express movement in space. But whereas "el"HaShem suggests movement in the general direction of HaShem, "ad" HaShem adds a sense of arrival, a sense of the completeness of the journey. "El"is "to", "ad" is "all the way to."
The distinction between Shuva Yisroel "ad" HaShem and Veshuvu "el"HaShem may be understood in new ways, if we understand the word "ad" as a time reference.
We find this time dimension of teshuvah in various teachings of Chazal. Ad HaShem Elokecho is interpreted: while yet middas "HaShem" and before middas "Elokecho." Do teshuvah while yet there is middas Rachamim, because, in time, middas Rachamim reverts to middas Din. Carpe Diem!
Our coming near to HaShem in teshuvah is a function of time. Evidently, the calendar provides us with times that allow us an unusual closeness to HaShem. Although we can, and must, do teshuvah at any time, still the ten days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippurim are especially propitious. "Ad" is a remez to this period of repentance. "Ad" refers to a nearness in time. Shuva Yisroel "ad" HaShem Elokecho. The time is now!
Along similar lines, I offer a suggestion that "ad"--"el" is a kind of time-space matrix. We exist in time as well as in space. If HaShem is called Mokom it is an acknowledgment that he is Mekomo Shel Olom Velo Ho’Olom Mekomo. But this must refer also to the dimension of time. HaShem’s time contains all time. If He is Space, He is also Time. Of course, we do find this dimension in HaShem’s name. The name offered to Moshe at the Sneh clearly indicates the dimension of time. The Tetragrammaton as it is written indicates the dimension of time as well as of space. Thus, if, in the process of teshuvah, we return to HaShem, we must describe such a return in terms of both space and time. And we do: Shuva Yisroel "ad" HaShem Elokecho: Kechu Imochem Devorim Veshuvu "el"HaShem. "ad" refers to time; "el"refers to space.
One who sins grows instantly distant from HaShem. That distance cannot be measured in miles or in light years. It is a distance that manifests itself in moral confusion and existential isolation, in spiritual sickness and despair. The approach to HaShem which is called teshuvah brings a nearness that manifests itself in joy and spiritual vitality. It is a closeness in the time dimension of the spirit as well as in the space dimension of the spirit. It is "ad" HaShem as well as "el" HaShem.
One of the manifestations of this time-dimensional closeness to HaShem is the merging of the ba’al-teshuvah with eternity. The sinner reaches for the ephemeral and the superficial, for the evanescent pleasure of the instincts. He is of the moment. He belongs to the "here and now" of the hedonist’s life. The sinner is trapped by the yetzer hora’s beckoning, which is always for the moment’s pleasure, for the current fad or fashion. How distant must the sinner be from HaShem Eternal! Nearing HaShem means embracing eternity. Commitment to a Torah that is eternal allows for such an embrace.
Our nearness to HaShem at Har Sinai was for all times even though, individually, we are mortal. This is achieved by a covenant with klal Yisroel. Velo itchem levadchem....We are individual beneficiaries of a covenant with an eternal klal Yisroel. Ein hatzibbur mesim. Collectively speaking, klal Yisroel is immortal. Were a sinner able to sever his connection with klal Yisroel, he would lose that immortality. Then teshuvah would be rendered impossible. It is only his inherent connectedness to klal Yisroel that allows him to reclaim his nearness to the Infinite One. But Yisroel af al pi shechoto, Yisroel hu. A sinner remains a Jew. And his connectedness is assured. Teshuvah is therefore possible. This teshuvah is "ad" HaShem, a reunion with the eternal.
May we be zocheh to mechiloh, selicho, vechaporoh and a new year full of HaShem’s bounteous blessings.
What’s in a Name?
By Manis Berger
"And Moshe came and spoke all the words of this poem in the ears of the people, he and Hoshea the son of Nun" (Devarim 32:44).
Upon completion of Moshe’s final address to the Jewish People, the Torah tells us that this "poem" was articulated by Moshe, as well as by Yehoshua. Many commentators are bothered by the mention of Yehoshua in this pasuk. Moreover, they are perplexed by the absence of the "yud" in Yehoshua’s name. What is the Torah trying to teach us? Perhaps a possible explanation for the difficulties in this pasuk can be reached through an understanding of the importance of a person’s name.
The Rambam (Hilchos Teshuva 2:4) says that "the ways of repentance are such that the repentant should scream and cry beseeching Hashem for forgiveness…and change his name, meaning that he should say, ‘I am a new person, not the same person who committed those deeds.’" It seems the Rambam links the changing of one’s name with the changing of one’s entire person. Thus, one can derive that a name is not merely an identifying label given a person, but an intricate part of a person’s being and character. This notion is expressed by the Zohar HaKadosh, which states that a person’s name represents the ‘mahus’, or essence, of the person. How can this idea be applied?
At the end of the Torah’s account of the fight between Yaakov Avinu and the angel, Yaakov, in reward for his unyielding efforts, is renamed Yisrael. As many third grade students learn, the fight with the angel foreshadowed the forthcoming meeting between Yaakov and his brother, Esav. What, though, was the purpose of changing Yaakov’s name?
Following the lines of the Rambam, it is possible to answer this question. At the time of his brawl with the angel, Yaakov was undergoing a major change in his life. He was no longer only the ish tam yoshev ohalim, but was adding a new dimension to his personality. He had "contended with G-d and man," and he had prevailed. Yaakov, through his fight with the angel, had acquired a physical prowess and a greater sense of self-confidence. He thus required a new name, Yisroel.
Similarly, Yehoshua’s name had been changed from Hoshea at the time of the incident of the meraglim. However, the midrash highlights one major difference between Yaakov’s situation and Yehoshua’s situation. Bamidbar Rabbah (16:9) offers two reasons that Moshe changed Yehoshua’s name. First, Yehoshua received the merits of the ten scouts who spoke ill of Eretz Yisrael. ("Yud", the letter added to Yehoshua’s name, has a numerical value of ten). Second, the new name reflected the prayer that Moshe gave to Yehoshua. Foreseeing that the meraglim would act wickedly, Moshe prayed that Yehoshua would not join their slanderous council. He emphasized this prayer by changing Yehoshua’s name.
The underlying principle of both explanations is that Yehoshua’s name was not changed on account of his own merit. Yehoshua did not have to struggle to attain his glory. He didn’t have to fight to merit the change in his name as Yaakov had done for the change in his. The ramifications of this distinction suggest an answer to the difficulties posed above.
Moshe, as he prepares to pass the torch to his successor, at this pivotal moment in Jewish history, understands that he must convey a critical message to Yehoshua. By omitting the "yud" from Yehoshua’s name, Moshe tells his disciple that he will no longer be able to depend upon the merit of others. As a leader, he would have to rely on his own efforts and on his own merit. In essence, Moshe is forcing Yehoshua to start over again as Hoshea. He gives him the chance to prove himself as a leader and to fully earn the extra "yud" in his name, Yehoshua.
The Orator’s Ideal
By Elli Fischer
Moshe introduces Shiras Ha’azinu, his farewell poem, with three verses that reflect the aims he hopes to achieve with his address. Specifically, the second verse deals with concrete aims that would serve any prospective orator well. Since the nature of a poem demands some level of encryption, Chazal, most notably Rashi (with some help from Sifrei and Malbim), become essential to unlocking Moshe’s message.
Following the ta’amim as well as the logical structure, the second verse of Ha’azinu breaks down into two contrasting halves which, in turn, break down into parallel halves, for a total of four similes.
The first simile that Moshe employs compares his lekach to falling rain. Malbim explains that lekach refers to mussar, admonition. So too, arifa denotes a strong falling or dripping action, which the Sifrei says often leaves people unhappy. On the other hand, the Sifrei stresses the eternity of rain and, consequently, the eternity of the message of the lekach. Moshe wishes for his words to contain a message of truth that will create a certain amount of tension and dissonance in the minds of his listeners. He wants them to be confronted with a terrifying eternal reality.
In stark contrast to this comes the next simile, which says that his imros should drip like dew. Rashi comments that, unlike in the case of rain, everybody rejoices in the presence of dew. Malbim accordingly explains imros to mean the type of message that inspires action. Thus, Moshe prays that his oration be met with rejoicing and a will to change in the face of the realities which the audience is forced to confront.
The second half of the verse deals with the broader impact of the address, beyond its initial reception. It follows very readily upon the heels of the call to action of the imros of the second simile. Furthermore, the parallelism of the final two similes is much stronger than that of the first two. This is highlighted by the use of the word alei in both, by the use of two words for a storm and two words for grass, and by the connection of the two with the letter vav, which implies a strong continuity.
In the third simile, Moshe expresses a desire that his lekach/imra affect the masses in a collective sense. Moshe intends for his words to act like se’irim, which Rashi explains are whirlwinds, upon deshe, which Rashi explains refers to a lawn. The reaction described in the fourth simile provides a perfect complement to that of the third. The action of revivim, which Rashi translates as individual drops falling like small arrows, upon esev, which according to Rashi are individual blades of grass (indeed, even individual species), relates to humans as a very powerful individual message which cuts to the heart like an arrow. Moshe hopes that not only will his finale seize hold of the community and whip them into an inspired frenzy, but that it will contain a powerful and meaningful message for every member of the most diverse audience.