Here To Stay

The Haftorah we Lein this week is the second of the Tlasa D’Parenusa, the series of heart-rending Haftoros which we began last week. During the “three weeks” we observe certain Minhagei Aveilus which become stricter as we get closer to the Churban, until they reach a pinnacle—or nadir—on Leil Tisha B’Av. Similarly, the words of the Navi that we read in each of these weeks seem to become more intense, more biting, as we approach Tisha B’Av. It would certainly seem that Chazal, in being Misken the combination of Dinei Aveilus and the Haftoros, wished to convey the message that as Tisha B’Av approaches, not only should our conduct be altered, but our mindset as well. With that in mind, let us examine the words of the Navi that our Chachamim felt should guide us at this point in the process.

The Pessukim of the Haftorah come from Sefer Yirmiah and are in fact a continuation of the Haftorah we read last week. As we noted, however, the words of Hochacha found in this Haftorah are far more direct—gone are the Meshalim of the previous Perek. Instead, we find open and stinging criticism of Klal Yisroel from the very outset, when the Navi asks, on behalf of Hashem: “Mah Matzu Avoseichem Bi Avel Ki Rachaku M’Alai”. The Pesukim continue, pointing out that Klal Yisroel seems to have forgotten all that Hashem had done for them, taking them out of Mitzrayim, sustaining them in the Midbar, and finally bringing them to the “Eretz HaKarmel”. The Navi also points out that we had strayed from Hashem, turning to other gods in His stead. Before turning to the punishment that awaits us for our deeds—hardship and destruction—the Navi sums up the gravity of our actions: “Ki Shtayim Ra’os Asah Imi Odi Azvu Mekor Mayim Chaim LaChatzov Lahem Bo’aros Bo’Aros Nishbarim Asher Lo Yachlu Hamayim.”

Though we may we assume that is was only the Pechusim among Klal Yisroel, those who were far from the Ribbono Shel Olam, who were at fault, the Navi seems to lay blame at the feet of others as well: “Hakohanim Lo Amru Ayeh Hashem V’Tofsei HaTorah Lo Yedauni V’Haroim Pashu Bi”. There are three classes of individuals that the Navi takes to task by name: the Kohanim, the “Tofsei HaTorah”, and the Ro’im. It would seem that if the Navi went out of the way to refer to these groups, it is important to understand to whom he refers, and what their sins were.

The identities of two of these groups are easily understood. The term “Kohanim” is self-explanatory, and all Meforshim agree that “Ro’im” refer to the Melachim, especially the Machei Yisroel who were far from perfect. The meaning of the term “Tofsei HaTorah”, however, is less apparent. Though the literal translation, those grasping the Torah, is not hard to understand, the terminology is unique and certainly has implications. Further, there seems to be a difference of opinion to whom exactly this title belongs.

Rashi, very succinctly, writes that the “Tofsei HaTorah” are the Sanhedrin—it is they that the Navi accuses of not “knowing” Hashem. Radak, and others, seem to have a broader approach, attributing this title to the “Chachamim Lomdei HaTorah”. Though the common denominator is clear—both refer to those steeped in the Torah—there seems to be a definite distinction made between regular Chachmim and the Sanhedrin itself. We must of course try to understand why Rashi would limit the title to the Sanhedrin while others use a more expansive definition.

Interestingly, there seems to be another way of understanding the term ““Tofsei HaTorah”, which is divergent from either of these approaches.

The Yalkut Shimoni on Sefer Yechezkel describes a conversation, Kaviyachol, between the Malachim and HKB”H regarding the Churban. The Malachim attempt to find a Pischon Peh, some mitigating factor which might forestall the impending doom, but at each turn Hashem uses a Passuk to explain why they are wrong. For example, the Malachim suggest: “Asei Bishvil HaAvos”, hoping that perhaps the Zechus of the Avos HaKedoshim can be successful, but Hashem responds with the words “V’HaAvos Mavirim Es HaEsh”. At one point the Malachei HaShares suggest that Klal Yisroel be spared because of the youth, “Asei Bishvil HaKetanim”, but again they are rebuffed, this time using familiar words: “V’Tofsei HaTorah Lo Yedauni”. Here we have an instance when the Medrash uses the term “Tofsei HaTorah” but does not seem to refer to the Sanhedrin or Talmidei Chachamim, but to the Ketanim. How are we to understand this? Hashem seems to be telling the Malachim that the Ketanim don’t have adequate Zechuyos to stop the Churban because they do not recognize Him, but why would they be called “Tofsei HaTorah”, a term that would seem reserved for those who have reached heights in Limud HaTorah?

Besides understanding to whom the Navi refers with this terminology, we must also try to explain why it is used in the first place. Nowhere else do we see the words “Tofsei HaTorah” used to describe anyone. Why in this case, when the Navi is criticizing them, is this title used?

This question is addressed by the Mincha Gedolah, R’ Moshe Frankfurt, in his Pirush on these words. He writes that the Torah Hakedosha originates from Shamayim, and would it not be for Talmidei Chachamim holding on to it, it would return there. This, he explains, is why the Passuk says “Etz Chaim Hi L’Machazikim Bah”, because Talmidei Chachamim “hold on” to the Torah, preventing it from returning to Shamayim. There is a fascinating Chazal, which the Mincha Gedolah brings, that supports this idea: the Gemarah in Pesachim tells us: “Shlosha Chhazru L’Matasan…Ksav HaLuchos D’Ksiv V’Ashabrem L’Einechem Tana Luchos Nishbiru V’Osios Porchos.” We see from the Gemarah that at the time that Bnei Yisroel did the Chet HaEgel, the Ksav HaLuchos returned to Shamayim, from whence they came, supporting the notion that the Torah always seeks to return to Shamayim.

We can understand, according to the Mincha Gelodah, the roots of the term “Tofsei HaTorah” to refer to those who have a close Shaychus to Torah, as they hold the Torah on this world. We must still understand, however, why the Navi choses to use this title here, when he is criticizing this group of people. The term “Tofsei HaTorah” would seem to be an approbation, why employ it in seemingly denigrating context?

The Mincha Gedolah himself seems to address they question, noting that as the Tofsei HaTorah they ought not to have forgotten Hashem, but that really should be true to anyone who has a relationship to the Torah HaKedosha—what is it about their roles as the Tofsei HaTorah specifically that makes the next words, “Lo Yedauni”, more egregious? This question is especially pressing given that Rashi defines the Tofsei HaTorah specifically as the Sanhedrin—in what way does the Pshat of the Mincha Gedolah apply to them more than any other Chacham?

Perhaps there is a slightly different approach to these words that can help us answer these questions.

The truth is that the concept which the Mincha Gedola introduces, and supports based on the Gemarah in Pesachim seems to be somewhat in conflict with another precept that is found in Chazal: “Torah Lo BaShamayim Hi”, the Torah was given to us on earth and no longer has a connection to the Shamayim. If this is true, why would we assume that the Torah continually tries to return to the heavens, and is only held down by the “Machazikim Bah”? In order to answer this question, we must of course better understand the concept of “Torah Lo BaShamayim Hi”.

There are various Divrei Chazal, in Medrashim as well as Gemaras, that tell us of the encounters between Moshe Rabbeinu and the Malachei Hashares at the time that Moshe went to Shamayim to be Mekabel the Torah. The Gemrah in Shabbos tells of one specific claim that the Malachim made: “Tnah Hodcha Al HaShamayim”, the Torah belongs in Shamayim and not on the earth.

The Shefa Chaim of Sanz (brought in Otzros Divrei Yatziv), asks a penetrating question on this Gemarah: why would the Malachim care if the Torah was given to mankind and went down to earth, so to speak? How would this affect them and their mission in any way at all? He explains that in fact Mattan HaTorah had a profound effect on the role of Malachim. As we know, there is a Malach who is Memunah on each part of the Teva. For example, the Gemarah in Sanhedrin tells us that the Malach who is in charge of the winds is called Domeh, and that Malach Gavirel is appointed over ripening fruit. There is, however, a force which has even more control over Teva: the Torah itself, which was used to create Teva, as Chazal tell us “Histakel B’Oraysa U’Bara Alma.” Each Chelek of the Torah, explains the Shefa Chaim, is therefore in some way related to a piece of the Teva, and vice versa.

When the Torah was given to Bnei Yisroel, it was submitted to them completely, Torah Lo BaShamayim Hi tells us that the Chachamim have a control over the Torah, and the ability to interpret or change the Torah however they see fit. As a result, they can be Oker Davar Min Hatorah if the determination is made that such a step is necessary. When this happens, however, the part of the Teva that is connected to that Chelek of the Torah will also be affected: if a part of the Torah is changed or removed, the corresponding part of the Briah will be as well. In this way, the fact that the Torah was given to mankind, along with the ability to alter or modify it, truly affected the role of the Malachim, as control over their individual “domains” was now in the hands of mankind. When the Malachim found out that Moshe Rabbeinu had come to take the Torah down to earth, they therefore protested, averring that the Torah belonging in Shamayim so that their role in the Teva would remain intact.

Based on this concept, perhaps we can gain a new understanding into the criticism leveled at the “Tofsei HaTorah.”

We see from the Gemarah, and the explanation of the Shefa Chaim, that the Torah was given to us in such totality that the Chachamim can affect the Torah itself even when that may change Teva beyond the control of the Malachaim. When Chazal tell us “Torah Lo BaShamayim Hi”, they are just providing us with locational awareness; they are teaching us how deeply connected we are to the Torah, and how solid that connection really is. It would follow that if someone sees himself a “Tofes”, constantly fighting to keep the Torah on Earth, lest it return to Shamayim, there is something lacking in that relationship. Everything in life is a projection: if one is concerned about the Torah leaving us, it is because he senses the weakness in his connection to it.

Rashi writes that the Tofsei HaTorah, those criticized for thinking they must hold fast onto the Torah, are the Sanhedrin, because the Sanhedrin are the ones most closely related to the concept of Torah Lo BaShamayim Hi. The Sanhedrin are the ones most likely to be Oker Davar Min HaTorah, to issue Psak so fundamental that it could affect the Briah itself and should therefore be most sensitive to the precept of “Lo BaShamayim Hi” .If they are lacking in their awareness of this aspect of the relationship, then, they can certainly be labeled as “Tofsei HaTorah Lo Yedauni”, those who grasp onto the Torah due to a lack of awareness. Radak expands this definition to Chachamim to show that even when one who is not on the level of the Sanhedrin, the regular “Chachamim Lomdei HaTorah” have some level of this relationship to the Torah—they too should not be scared of the Torah running away from them. Any hint of “Tofsei HaTorah” clinging to the Torah so that it doesn’t return to Shamayim, is therefore evidence of a Rifyon in that connection.

We see from the Yalkut, however, that this applies to each any every one of us. Even the Ketanim, be it in age or in stature, are faulted in the Medrash for being “Tofsei HaTorah Lo Yedauni”, because on some level each of us should know better. We have the opportunity to forge such a close relationship to the Torah, to be Koneh it with such finality, that there would be no thought of it returning to Shamayim. Out shortcoming in this area begets an urge to hold on to the Torah with force, because we are so concerned that it may leave us.

The Passuk later in Sefer Yirmiah tells us why the Churban came: “Al Azvam Es Torasi Asher Nasati Lifneihem”—there is a clear connection between the Churban and our relationship with the Torah. Perhaps at this point in the “three weeks” Chazal wished us to focus on this part of the tragedy. We must ask ourselves: Is the connection that each of us maintains with the Torah itself, through a dedication to Limud HaTorah and Kavod HaTorah V’Lomdeha, secure? Or, are we V’Tofsei HaTorah Lo Yedauni” holding on for dear life, knowing that our connection to the Torah is lacking, worried that the reality of “Lo BaShamayim Hi” may cease to be true? Our answers to these questions can help us avert another day of Aveilus, instead rejoicing K’Nisinasan M’Sinai.