Today we begin to analyze the first of the Ten Commandments. As we shall see, understanding what this commandment is saying is not easy. Why? Mainly because the First Commandment is not formulated in the imperative mode. Thus the Tora says: “I am HaShem your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt, from the house of slaves.” Here, seemingly, there is NO specific order as in the case for example of “You Shall Not Kill”. The First Commandment does not tell us that we have to do something or avoid doing anything …

Therefore, the first question we need to address: is this Commandment a Biblical precept, an order we must follow, or is it just a preamble to the other commandments, that is: the way the Creator presents Himself to the people of Israel before pronouncing His commandments.

Through history, rabbis debated at length about the nature of the First Commandment. For Maimonides, for example, despite not being formulated in the imperative mode, the First Commandment expresses a command to follow; roughly: to “believe in God.”

For other rabbis, such as Nahmanides or Rabbi Hasdai Crescas, the First Commandment does not express a specific order to follow. Rabbi Crescas writes in his book “Or HaShem” that there cannot be a commandment that requires us to believe in the existence of God. Recognizing God’s existence cannot be a “law” but a “philosophical” prerequisite for all other commandments. Therefore, he explains, the First Commandment, which emphasizes the existence of God, is just as a preamble to all other commandments which are presented below, is not a commandment itself. It is similar to “We the People…” in the American constitution.

Now we will try to understand HaRambam, Maimonides’ opinion on this subject. As a rule, Maimonides would not move an iota from what the Gemara says. And the Gemara in Masekhet Makot explains that of the 613 precepts of the Tora, 611 were given through Moshe Rabbenu, and the remaining two were transmitted “directly” by HaShem. And those two precepts transmitted by HaShem are the First and the Second Commandment (אנכי ולא יהיה לך)! This is also evident from the fact that only the first two Commandments were expressed in the first person singular ( “I amHaShem your God” … “You shall have no other gods before Me“) while from the Third Commandment, Moshe addresses the people of Israel, and refers to HaShem in the third person (the biblical text says, “You shall not take the name of God in vain” and it does not say “You shall not take My name in vain”). According to this Talmudic text, the first commandment is indeed a Mitsva, a Biblical precept, not a preamble. And so, in his famous book Sefer haMitsvot, a book that presents the 613 precepts of the Tora, Maimonides mentions the First Commandment as the Number One Mitsva of the Tora.

Following this view, our next question is: What is specifically the order, the precept, that we are commanded to follow and fulfill in this commandment that says: “I am HaShem your God”?

We will examine this point BH tomorrow.

דע מאין באת ….

In this Mishna, ‘Aqabiya ben Mahalalel reminds us of the exciting topic of the interaction between body and soul. He says that the best way to avoid committing a transgression is to remember that my body comes from something that is materially insignificant ( “a fetid drop …”), and it also goes to nowhere ( “…food for worms”). In contrast, my soul has a nature that is not material. It is not made of atoms, molecules or cells. It will not die or disappear. It will survive  the death of my body. My soul, in other words, is “I, less my body.” After life, my soul has absolute awareness of its identity (it knows that it’s “I”) , preserves my memory (knows the things I did with my life) and my conscience (feels righteous, if I led a righteous life). And, therefore, my soul can and should be held accountable by the Supreme Judge for whatever I may have accomplished during my earthly existence, when my soul, in other words “I”, was integrated with my body.

I recognize that it is very difficult to speak or describe the soul, because as we said, it is not an organ of the body or a physical part of the brain. I have always tried to find a metaphor which could help visualize better what the soul is, in itself and in relation to the body.

For a long time I thought that body and soul could be compared to a car and its driver. The car is the body and the soul the driver conducting the body. Then it occurred to me that it would be more accurate to speak of a taxi (or an Uber.). The car is our body, the driver is our brain and the passenger is ME, I, my soul. The driver knows how to drive the car, and how to bring the passenger by the best possible way, etc. but the driver cannotdecide for himself where to go… It is the passenger who needs to make that decision and determine the final destination!

I think that, although slightly better than the first, the metaphor of the taxi is far from “perfect”. What I think is better to illustrate the nature of the soul and its interaction with the body is the motif of the horse and the rider. The rider, obviously, is the soul. And the horse is the body. The rider needs the horse to reach his goal and reach the final destination. A conscientious rider knows the horse has material needs and he makes sure not to neglect them. The rider feeds the horse, gives it to drink, allows it to rest, takes it often to the vet, and sometimes spoils it. He does everything possible to satisfy his horse’s needs and to keep it as strong and healthy as possible. This is the ideal scenario in which rider and horse are interdependent, cooperate with each other, synergizing.

But there are less ideal scenarios. For example: What if the rider does not know where to go, or if he feels that there is no goal to reach, and therefore the rider just has to “kill time”, find something for the horse to do and just the allows the horse to wander aimlessly? What happens when the rider cannot control his horse, gives up and ends up loosening the horse’s reins? Probably the worst case scenario, and perhaps the most common one, is when the rider never gets that he is a rider, an independent entity separate from his horse. In other words, what if the rider never realizes and is lost or confused about his identity and feels more like a centaur (those half-men, half-horse of Greek mythology) than like a rider on horseback?

In all these cases, unlike the case of the taxi driver who will not move from his place until the passenger tells him where to go, the horse, having a life of its own, would live the life of a horse. Its existential concern will be to find the best-quality grass and accumulate as much as possible of it. The horse will rest whenever it feels like it, and will run through the meadows without any specific goal, chasing female horses or anything else that appeals to it. The horse will not stay idle, waiting for orders from a sleeping rider…

The Tora teaches us that we are riders,  and as such we must be constantly aware that there is a NON-MATERIAL goal to achieve. It also teaches us, through a lot of Mitsvot, how to feed our horse, how to avoid whatever is damaging for it, when let our horse rest, and how to tame and control it.  How to keep our horse healthy and strong, so it is able to take us to our destination. And knowing that someday we will go down from our horse, bid a grateful farewell and continue our way, from the point that, with the horse’s help, we were able to achieve.

In the third chapter of Pirqe Abot we find Aqabiya ben Mahalalel, a prominent rabbi of the time of the Mishna, who lived during the first half of the first century of the Common Era. Before examining what he has said, let’s see something about the unique personality of Aqabiya ben Mahalalel.

Aqabiya was famous for his extreme loyalty to his teachers and his solid moral integrity, which was tested on more than one occasion. What most marked the life of Aqabiya was that he maintained his view on four rabbinic subjects (טומאת שער הפקודה, דם ירוק and other themes that we will not describe because they are very technical issues) against the view of his colleagues. We know that, on the one hand, we must be faithful to the traditions we have received from our elders, and that loyalty to the received tradition is absolutely critical in the teacher-student relationship. Teachers are confident that their students will follow their steps, and disciples considered a matter of honor to convey the tradition received from their teachers. On the other hand, as we know, many times different opinions arise among the rabbis–similar to the differences between judges or legislators of any country–and when those differences are not resolved within the framework of the rabbinical debate , the matter is submitted to vote and the court would respect and adopt the majority’s opinion. In the case of Aqabiya ben Mahalalel, these two principles, loyalty to one’s teachers and following the opinion of the majority of Rabbis, collided,  came into conflict: on one hand, his teachers taught him to follow opinion A, while most rabbis of his generation held view B.  Aqabiya’s colleagues urged him to reconsider and change his mind, but he refused. Then the rabbis made him an irresistible offer: knowing that Aqabiya had sufficient knowledge, good name and merits for the job, they offered him that, would he change his mind, he would be assigned as the Chairman of the Highest Rabbinical of Israel! To everyone’s surprise, Aqabiya rejected the offer. He said, “I’d rather be taken for a fool for the rest of my days (for not accepting that deal) than leading anyone to ever believe that I’m a corrupt person (for accepting that “sweet” deal)” …מוטב לי ליקרות שוטה כל ימי.

Interestingly, before Aqabiya died he told his son that he should follow the opinion of the majority of the rabbis, and not his father’s opinion. His son asked, “But father, all your life you kept your opinion, and you are asking me now to follow the opposite view.” To which Aqabiya replied: “I received the tradition of my teachers, who in those days were the majority. And my colleagues followed the opinion of their teachers …But you my dear son, you just received the tradition from me, an individual. My colleagues are now the majority, and you must respect the new leaders and adopt their opinion … “

The Gemara also tells an episode, very relevant for today, which demonstrates the limitless integrity of this illustrious Hakham. At the end of the days of Aqabiya, his son asked him a very “common” favor. He said something like this: “Dear father, you are very well respected, loved and admired among the Hakhamim. Your colleagues would do anything for you. I ask you please to recommend me, and talk about me to any of your friends, so I can have an easier access to a position of prominence.”  Then, Aqabiya ben Mahalalel formulated one of the most famous Rabbinic statements of all times, four Hebrew words that became the highest standard of moral integrity and the rejection of nepotism, traffic of influence and other similar forms of corruption. His words were, verbatim, מעשיך יקרבוך ומעשיך ירחיקוך, which means: “Your own actions will bring you closer (to the position you aspire) or will you drive away (from that position).” In other words: I’ll not recommend you to my colleagues. What really matters is your merits, not your family connections. Your merits will bring you to the position you so long. Your actions are your best recommendation. It is about your deeds, not my influence.

 אִם-יִהְיֶה נִדַּחֲךָ, בִּקְצֵה הַשָּׁמָיִם מִשָּׁם, יְקַבֶּצְךָ ה’ אֱלֹהֶיךָ, וּמִשָּׁם, יִקָּחֶךָ. וֶהֱבִיאֲךָ ה’ אֱלֹהֶיךָ, אֶל-הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר-יָרְשׁוּ אֲבֹתֶיךָ וִירִשְׁתָּהּ; וְהֵיטִבְךָ וְהִרְבְּךָ, מֵאֲבֹתֶיךָ

We commemorate today Yom Hazikaron (“The Day of Remembrance” or “Memorial day”)  honoring the memory of the soldiers of the Israeli army who sacrificed their lives for the establishment of the State of Israel and its continued existence.

The young soldiers who gave their lives in the wars of Israel are the greatest heroes of Israel. “The silver platter” on which the State of Israel was delivered to us. As Rabbi Eliezer Melamed says, “these soldiers, most of them very young, sacrificed everything, so that we can have our land, where we can fulfill our greatest dream, all AM ISRAEL returning to their homeland to serve HaShem … .we should be inspired by their sacrifice and devotion to sanctify the name of God (leqaddesh shem shamayim). “

Today, in Israel, tens of thousands of people attend local cemeteries to mourn for their children, grandchildren, parents, siblings, grandparents, and friends. In the morning, at 11.00 am, a siren sounds throughout the country. Everything and everyone stops for two minutes: people, cars, businesses, public transportation, etc. to honor the memory of the fallen heroes and victims of terror.

This year we honor the memory of 23,447 soldiers and victims of terrorism who fell in Israel’s wars or terrorist attacks since the War of Independence in 1948 to the present day. Sixty eight new victims were added since last year’s Yom haZikaron. In addition, fifty-nine disabled veterans who served in the Israeli army, mostly young, died as a result of their condition.

Today, there are 9,442 parents who have lost children, 4,917 widows and 1,948 orphans, according to interior ministry of Israel.

כי ידוע הוא שהמעלה הגדולה אשר אין אחריה מעלה היא שיהיה האדם טוב לשמים וטוב לבריות

מגן אבות לרשב”ץ , הקדמה

Rabbi Shimon Duran (Rashbets, 1361-1444) explains in his introduction to the commentary of Pirqe Abot, Magen Abot, that the reason we study this Mishna before Shabuot, is to prepare ourselves to reach the level of “Hasidut”.

“Hasid” is translated today as pious, or is usually associated with a movement of followers of a prominent rabbinical figure. We will see now how Rabbi Duran defined the concept of “Hasid” in his book. Rabbi Duran quotes the Gemara in Qiddushin 40a saying that we might find a man that is a “tsadiq”, a righteous man, but not a good man. For example, when someone is very scrupulous in his relationship with God, but does not behave well towards his or her peers. Rabbi Duran explains that “the highest level, above which there is no other level, is when a person is good toward HaShem and good toward other people. And when a Yehudi reaches this ideal level he is called “Hasid”. “Hasid”, in other words, is the highest level a Jew should aspire to reach.

Let’s see now how Rabbi Duran describes in detail the characteristics of a Hasid.

The ideal Jew must be in permanent contact with God. Since you’re up in the morning until you go to bed at night, you must have the name of HaShem in your lips. Praying three times a day, reciting the berakhot every time you eat, and studying Tora during throughout the day and at night. Rabbi Duran mentions that the epitome (the highest level, the almost “utopian”) connection with HaShem was reached by the “Hasidim Rishonim”, the “old Hasidim” mentioned by the Mishna Berakhot. They used to meditate at length in their prayers, a task that took nine hours of their day.  The first element that you must develop in order to be a Hasid is a very strong relationship with God. Having HaShem constantly in your heart, mind and lips. However, if a Jew only dedicates to cultivate his or her relationship with God, he is NOT considered a Hasid, an ideal or complete Jew. There are two other dimensions to be developed to achieve this ideal.

The Gemara in Baba Qama 30a tells us that the “Hasidim Rishonim”, the same Jews who prayed nine hours a day, were also very scrupulous in their ethical behavior. These Hasidim, the Gemara says, were extremely careful not to steal or to cause any harm to anyone. The example mentioned by the Gemara, incredibly modern, illustrates how did the Hasidim Rishonim get rid of their broken glass or branches with thorns. While normal people would simply hide this type of waste superficially with a little soil, the Hasidim Rishonim dug a hole of at least 1 foot deep, and would placed there the broken glasses and thorns, to avoid causing any harm, even to those who perhaps years later might be working that parcel with their plow. These Hasidim were extremely careful in avoiding any direct or indirect harm or injury to others.

The third element that characterized the Hasidim Rishonim was “kindness”, hesed, acts of goodness. Do not forget that the word “Hasid” comes from the word “Hesed”. Hesed means my predisposition to help other people, even if they have not asked for my help. Sometimes Hesed consists in helping others with financial assistance (tsedaqa). Many other times, people need a different type of assistance, which cannot be bought or replace with money: for example, visiting a sick person, encouraging him, and bringing a word of encouragement and hope, is not something you can do with money, but with your “presence”and with your time. The same can be said of nihum abelim, comforting the relatives of someone who has just died. What brings comfort to the bereaved is our presence. Something similar happens when we invite people to our house for dinner on Shabbat, etc, hakhnasat orehim, we do not offer money but company, sharing time together. We do acts of Hesed, goodness, either with our money (tsedaqa) or with our presence and our time (gemilut hasadim).

Rabbi Duran gives us a good definition of what does it mean to be a role-model Jew. On the one hand, building and maintaining an ongoing relationship with HaShem, and on the other hand, being extremely honest, caring and above all generous and sensitive, doing everything in our power to help others, with our means and with our time.

Rabbi Duran concludes: Why should we study Pirqe Abot? Because this treatise of Mishna contains the advices of our sages to become a real “hasid”, the best possible Jew with HaShem and with one’s peers.