Rabbis describe G-d finding delight in three experiences, 3 finds, each based on a Biblical text. Each teaches a moral principle. First Metziah: Abraham. ומצאת את לבבו נאמן לפניך. Loyalty of heart; faith. Not so much intellectual conception monotheism as faith in G-d in all totality and purity. 1. sign of times, sophistication, is "emancipation from all faith". 2. state categorically that’s impossible. Every man has faith; depends what kind — a. No more than two ways. No "grays”. b. either in G-d — or idols, wheteher stone, scientism, psychology, destiny, wealth, security, communism, free enterprise. No matter how good, still idol. 3. כיון שאדם פורש מן התורה הולך ומתדבק בע"ז. 4 Cynics deride this idea as too conservative, tight orthodoxy. Under guise of sham liberalism, "so open-minded that their brains fall out", they insist on third way — no faith in anything at all. 5. Bertrand Russel: “To live a human life, man must have grounding in something, in some sense outside of human life....in some end which is impersonal and above mankind, such as G-d or Truth or Beauty". 6. There must, therefore, be a choice of which faith. Abraham recognized this etc. Second Metziah: David. מצאתי דוד עבדי. Servitude, or service. 1. G-d could have found delight in so many other great aspects of David: a. Royalty: a monarch reigning in august majesty ... consolidated Jewish kingdom. b. Military prowess: uncanny strategist ... 2nd Book Samuel (vs Absalom). No Koje incident possible under him. c. Poet: sublime thoughts which run so mellifluously thru his Divine verses... inspiration to countless generations in times of need and also bliss. 2. Yet G-d extolls servitude above all these. Two great qualities of an עבד: a. Surrender, Yielding to Master ... Sacrifice in toto. 1. איזו עבודה שבלב? — תפילה, once altar, now Bimah; once Kohen, now Shatz; once animal physically, now man spiritually —. 2. בידו אפקיד רוחי. A measure of intensity. Noticeable in Psalms. 3. In this sense David a complet…

1. A great Hasidic Rabbi once explained why Shavuot is known as zman matan torateinu, the time of the giving of the Torah, and not as zman kabalat torateinu, the time of the receiving of the Torah. He said that the reason was that God gave the Torah to all Jews equally. There was one matan, one giving. But it is up to each Jew to receive the Torah, and each one receives a different amount and on a different level of understanding. There are thus as many “receivings” of Torah as there are Jews. Hence, Shavuot is the zman matan and not zman kabalat ha’torah. For every Jew must today, as an individual and in a sacred and inviolable personal act, receive the Torah. 2. So that we are now prepared, each one of us, to receive the gift of God, the Torah. We must therefore know what Torah is. What, in short, does Torah mean? What does it mean to us? What does it mean to each and every individual here? Allow me to give a number of impressions as to what Torah is, so that perhaps some one person here will see it in a new light, and receive the Torah anew. I. Torah is an inheritance. תורה נתן לנו משה, מורשה קהילת יעקב It is a legacy left to us by parents, grandparents, and forbears since the beginning of time. In it are recorded the annals of man’s greatness as well as his depravity. Towering saints like Moses move through its sacred script even as petty scoundrels like Bilaam worm their way into this all-encompassing picture of man on Earth. It is the chain of tradition which links us with all the giants of history whose blood pulsates through our own veins at this very moment. It links us to primitive Adam as he was formed out of the bowels of the Earth. It unites us with Abraham as he stands before God debating with the Almighty for the rescue of the evil Sodom. It puts aside the Patriarch Jacob as he wrangles with his angelic opponent before the break of dawn upon the distant plains of Mesopotamia. It makes us feel part of the Israelites who crossed the Red Sea and then en…

The Book of Ruth, which is read on this Shavuot Festival, offers us one of the most profound insights into the modern status of religion. By telling the extremely personal tale of love and pathos concerning three major meta-historical characters, all women, we are given one of the most illuminating analyses of the two kinds of religion which vie for the control of men’s consciences, souls, and destinies this very day. Elimelech was a rather important person in the Palestine of about three thousand years ago. Financially, scholastically, and personally, he was a well-known Jew whose name was important enough to be mentioned in a book of the Bible. One fine day, Elimelech decided to leave his homeland and emigrate to the nearby Moab. Famine stalked Israel, and Elimelech thought that he and his family would fare better in this strange land. And so, he took with him his Naomi, whose name means “pleasantness,” and his two sons and their non-Jewish wives. Very soon thereafter, Elimelech and his two sons die, and they fade out of the picture as secondary and unimportant characters. The sweet but sad Naomi now decides to return to her native Land of Israel, probably to die in loneliness and sorrow. She decides to take leave of her two daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah, and go back to what once was her home. But the young ladies have become too attached to her to say goodbye so easily. They tell her that they share a common grief, a common tragedy, and therefore, a common destiny. Both Ruth and Orpah tell Naomi that they want to accept her faith – Judaism – and return with her to Israel. We begin to sense a religious stirring in these pathetic souls who find themselves enmeshed in this intensely human drama. Naomi is moved by their expression of loyalty, but she will not hear of it. In consonance with Jewish teaching that we are not to encourage conversions to our faith, she bids them return to their heathen countries – to Moab – to return to their parents, perhaps to remarr…

Two mountains loom large in the history of our people and the traditions of our faith. One is Mt. Sinai, from which Moses came down with the Ten Commandments. The other is Mt. Moriah, which Abraham ascended in order to bind his son Isaac and offer him up as sacrifice until God bade him stop at the last moment. Both of these mountains are prominent in the history of the civilized world. And yet one wonders at the difference between them. One wonders why, when it came to building the Beit Hamikdash, the Temple, it was Mt. Moriah which was so honored and which became sacred in Jewish Law and life, whereas Mt. Sinai retains only historic significance but is of no importance religiously. Why is it that Mt. Moriah has become the geographic center of Judaism, the place to which we turn in our prayers, and Mt. Sinai is just another little hill in the great barrenness called the Sinai Desert?In the answer to that question lies a whole philosophy, the essence of the Jewish approach to God and the kernel of the Torah world-view.The answer, in fact, can be expressed in a parallel to the study in contrast of two historic personalities whose names are associated with these mountains. They are: Moses and Abraham. The name of Moses is inextricably bound up with Sinai, and Abraham with Moriah.Moses, of course, is the prophet par excellence of Judaism. He is the lawgiver and the man whom God chose to redeem Israel from Egypt. He reached the highest rung any man can ever hope to reach. But the early history of Moses is one of ease and facility. There are struggles, but not great struggles. There are difficulties, but no tormenting ones. He was a man who was chosen to lead and to prophesy, and his very birth was accompanied by signs of greatness. He was tending his flock in the land of Midian one fine day when he heard a voice call out of a bush which burnt but was not consumed. It was the voice of God summoning him to his great role in history. It happened so suddenly, so quickly. It…

The Book of Ruth, which is read on this Festival of Shavuot, and whose mood of pastoral beauty at harvest time in the agricultural community of ancient Palestine dominates the whole atmosphere of this holiday, teaches us, quite incidentally, a profound lesson on the very nature of Torah and its tremendous significance in our daily lives.Synopsis of book…especially Naomi, Ruth, Orpah…Ruth wants to remain, but Orpah really wants to leave, just feigns desire to remain… finally Ruth-David, Orpah-Goliath.Our Rabbis seem to have attached great significance to that tender parting scene. That Ruth acted nobly, selflessly, and devotedly, we know. Her reward – marriage to the great Boaz and grandmother of King David – was deserved and recognized. But what of Orpah, the woman doomed to become the grandmother of this foul Philistine, this Moabite who returned to her people. True, she did not remain with Naomi, with religion and the people she adopted when she married the ill-fated son of Naomi. But, after all, she did make some attempt, some offer, to remain with her mother-in-law. Did not she, too, with Ruth, declare her willingness to accept Judaism? Does not this unfortunate person deserve some recognition?Yes, our Rabbis answer, she deserved and got recognition. Rabbi Berachiah omer, arba pesiot halcha Orpah im chamotah, ve’nitla li’vnah arbaim yom. R. Berachiah says that Orpah accompanied her mother-in-law four steps, and because of this kindness of four paces with Naomi, her descendant Goliath was spared for 40 days between the time he challenged Israel and terrorized his Hebrew enemies and the time young David came and slew him. Only four steps, four small steps. But they were significant, they were important. And for it, her Goliath was awarded 40 more days of life, glorious days for him and his family and his Philistines; 40 days in which he shined as the great hero, as the unchallenged champion of the battlefield, 40 days in which he basked as the supreme warrior of …

The name of this holiday, Shavuot, which celebrates the giving of Torah at Mt. Sinai, is usually explained as deriving from the word shevua, meaning “weeks”, because it comes at the end of seven weeks, counted from the second day of Passover. There is another explanation, however, offered by the Gerer Rebbe in his “S’fat Emes,” which shed a new light on the entire festival and the nature of the relation of each and every one of us to Torah itself. He maintains that the word Shavuot comes from the word shevuah meaning an oath or a vow. This he derives from the Talmudic statement that every Jew is mushba v’omed mei’har sinai, that each of us is in a state of oath consummated at Mt. Sinai to observe the Torah and all its commandments. Shavuot, therefore, is the time that each of us reaffirms the essence of our relationship with Torah – not an easy-going friendship, not just pride in it, not the use of it for private ends – but shevuah, an oath, a sacred and inviolable vow.Those of us who keep abreast of current religious writings will recognize that idea in one word used very frequently – “commitment.” To be religious means to be committed to Torah, to submit to it without reservation or qualification. The Bible calls it “bris” or covenant, the Talmud calls it shevuah or vow, Hassidism calls it dveykus or attachment, modern thinkers call it “commitment” or “the leap of faith.” But call it what you will, it means the same thing: the knowledge that the whole essence of your life is intertwined with Torah, that you live only by the law of God, that otherwise life has no meaning for you. It means you are bound to Torah, and stray from it though you may, it is all you have, all your life, and that you recognize this and only this as truth.In a modified way, all of you will recognize what we mean by this shevuah, this idea of vow or commitment. When, as children, some of us may have belonged to the Boy Scouts, we committed ourselves to the principles of good citizenship, ki…

1. The Book of Ruth read on Shavuot is a beautiful and inspiring story, instructive to us in many ways. The story itself is fairly simple, and most of us are, or should be, well acquainted with it. The cast of characters is well-known: Boaz, Ruth, and Naomi as the major characters, and Orpah, Elimelech, Machlon, and Kilion as the minor characters. 2. But there is one personage who makes a brief appearance in this book whom we may designate as the “mystery man.” The Bible doesn’t even give him a name. He is an anonymous and therefore mysterious character. You recall that Boaz was determined to marry this young widow of his cousin, this Moabite girl Ruth who had embraced Judaism. Now, since Ruth and her mother-in-law Naomi owned the land left to them by their husbands, marriage would mean that these lands would be transferred to the new husbands. Let us remember that in those days, real estate had more than commercial value – it meant the family inheritance, and sentiment was supported by law in making every attempt to keep property within the family or as close to it as possible. Now, while Boaz was a first cousin, there was a nearer relative – the brother of Elimelech, who was the father of her late husband. Before Boaz could marry her and take possession of the family property, he must have the closer relative’s consent (this relative is called the go’el, or redeemer, for he redeems the family’s possessions). Boaz, therefore, met this man, offered him priority in purchasing the lands of father and sons. He seemed willing to do this, regardless of price. But when Boaz told him that he would also have to marry Ruth if he should redeem the land, this go’el hesitated, then refused. I can’t do it, he said. Boaz was then next in line for the right of redemption, and that he did, and, of course, he married Ruth too, and from them, four generations later, came one of the greatest Jews who ever lived, King David. 3. Who is this relative who missed the opportunity of his li…

The Book of Ruth, “Megillat Rut,” which we shall read later today as we do every Shavuot, has come under very close scrutiny these past two years or so. It is the story, you will recall, of the woman Naomi, whose husband and two sons died after the famine caused them to emigrate from Palestine, and found herself left with her two young widowed daughters-in-law. One of them left her for non-Jewish parents. The other, also non-Jewish, Ruth the Moabite, pleaded with Naomi and won her consent to stay with her and throw in her lot with her and become Jewish. Ruth ultimately meets Boaz, they marry, and Ruth bears a son to make Naomi’s older years happy, and four generations later, from this same Ruth, there is born David, King of Israel.What these new writers on the Book of Ruth have to offer is mostly a complaint. Why, they argue, is this called the Book of Ruth in the first place? Ruth was a fine young lady, but after all the real heroism, the real depth of character, and even of strategy is shown by Naomi, not Ruth. Such is the argument of Maurice Samuel, and now of Dr. Hiller Zeidman. Naomi is the heroine of this great and charming Biblical narrative, and the Megillah should therefore be called Megillat Naomi, the Book of Naomi.And yet our tradition has called it the Book of Ruth, and it is she, more than Naomi, who shines as the great heroine of the story. Naomi and Boaz are both pleasant and even gigantic characters, endeared to history and beloved by the generations. But the heroine, the ancestress of King David – that is Ruth and only Ruth.Why is that? Why did Ruth receive so much more commendation and praise than modern students of the Bible are willing to give her? Primarily because she was not a Jewess to begin with, because she came to this Jewish way of life as a novice, as a newcomer. Of Naomi we expect a certain noble course of behavior. Of Boaz, we expect a high-minded and noble attitude, for he was a great Jew, and it was only Jewish to do what he did. B…

In the Book of Vayikra, in the passage where the Torah first mentions the major festivals of the year, we find the intrusion of a seemingly irrelevant verse, one which seems out of context in this list of great holidays. Our Rabbis already wondered at the fact that after the mention of Pesach and Shavuot, and before the mention of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot, the Torah introduces an extraneous verse, one which seems to have nothing whatever to do with the moadim, or holidays.ובקצרכם את קציר ארצכם לא תכלה פאת שדך בקצרך, ולקט קצירך לא תלקט, לעני ולגר תעזוב אותם אני ה’ אלוקיכם.When reaping the harvest, you may not reap the whole field, but must leave a peiah, a corner of the field unreaped; and the leket, the gleanings of the harvest, the ears of corn which fell to the ground were to be left there. And this leket and peiah, the gleanings and the corner, were to be left for the poor man and the stranger, for the needy and the alien who have not their own fields.Our Sages, contemplating the mention of peiah and leket in the context of the holidays, ask מה ראה הכתוב ליתנם באמצע הרגלים, פסח ועצרת מכאן וראש השנה ויום הכיפורים וחג מכאן. Why did the Torah see fit to mention leket and peiah in the middle of the portion of the moadim, with Pesach and Shavuot on one side, and Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur on the other?Many answers have been offered to this question posed by the Rabbis. All of them are worthy of deep study. This morning, however, I invite you to consider what I believe is the intention of the Torah in this juxtaposition of the mitzvot of tzedakah (for leket and peiah are really forms of tzedakah or charity-giving) and the festivals.We live in an age which has an unusual flair for the dramatic and the spectacular. Our interests are directed almost solely to headlines and lead articles. The big things in life, the flashy glamors, they attract us, while the prosaic, everyday matters are regarded as too dull to merit our consideration. In an age of space-tr…

Today’s Torah reading consists primarily of the reading of the Ten Commandments, the Aseret Hadibrot – the giving of which we celebrate on this festival of Shavuot. The fact that it is the greatest moral doctrine of all humanity, and the cornerstone of all civilization, it attested to in the Bible by the description of theophany, the dramatic thunder and lightning as the Children of Israel gathered at the foot of Mt. Sinai. Our Rabbis added to the narrative with the description of the cosmic silence that descended upon the world as God was about to reveal Himself to Israel at Sinai.The universal popularity of the Ten Commandments and the dramatic narrative both in the Bible and in Talmudic literature make all the more amazing the comparative lack of emphasis on the Aseret Hadibrot in our living tradition. Thus, Orthodox Rabbis will preach about the Ten Commandments much less frequently than their non-Orthodox counterparts. At a Berit Milah, we wish the parents that they raise their child to a life of Torah and good deeds and that they lead him to the wedding canopy – but there is no mention of the Ten Commandments. At a Bar Mitzvah, we speak to the youngster about dedicating himself to Torah, to the mitzvot, to parents, and to community – rarely do we mention to him the Aseret Hadibrot.Why this remarkable lack of emphasis on the Ten Commandments? Is it a matter of neglect, or is there some principle of historical and ideological importance which is at the root of this?It will perhaps broaden our horizons and liberalize our Jewish education to know that a particular custom, minhag, which we Western Jews cherish, has not always been looked upon with unanimous favor by our great legal authorities. This morning, as the reader recited the Aseret Hadibrot as part of our Torah portion, the congregation arose and remained standing throughout. This is an old and precious custom. And yet, some 800 years ago, an Eastern community inquired of the great Maimonides whether this …