Receiving The Gift

In some ways Shavuos can feel like the forgotten Yom Tov: it is shorter than the other Regalim, and does not have the flurry of preparation and variety of Mitzvos that are part and parcel of Pesach and Sukkos. On the other hand, we know that Shavuos is central to our lives, as we celebrate the day that we received the Torah. The Gemarah tells us “Hakol Modim B’Atzeres DiBainan Nami Lachem”, Shavuos is a day that certainly requires a physical celebration, for it is the anniversary of such a momentous occasion, which affects the way we live every moment of our lives. It is therefore appropriate to prepare for this Yom Tov by understanding how we too can be Mekabel the Torah, how we can experience the bliss of Chag Mattan Toraseinu.

Although, cheesecake aside, Shavuos does not have any Mitzvos of its own—at least B’Zman HaZeh—we do have the Minhag to Lein a Megilah just as on the other Regalim. As we learn Megilas Rus, however, its connection to the Yom Tov is not readily apparent. The story itself, which we are all familiar with, does not have any clear relationship with this Yom Tov, but the Meforshim offer various explanations as to why this Megilah is chosen for Shavuos.

The Avudraham, for example, notes that the story takes place between the beginning of the barley harvest and the end of the wheat harvest—the period of time during which Shavuos falls out. Others explain that the Geirus of Rus, which is akin to the Geirus that Klal Yisroel underwent at Har Sinai, making this a most appropriate Kriah for Shavuos. As we said, however, the focal point of this Yom Tov is a renewal of Kabalas HaTorah—surely the Megilah that we Lein should be directly connected to this aspect of the Yom Tov. What message can we find within the story of Rus that may be instructive in this goal?

On the face of it, Megilas Rus is essentially the story of Rus and Na’ami, their trials and tribulations, and eventual salvation. It seems to be a relatively informational text, and would not presume to find much Halacha within. Toward the end of the Meggilah, however, this notion is disturbed.

Once Rus had the opportunity to speak directly with Boaz, and plead for him to serve as the Goel, the Pessukim tell us that he wasted no time, proceeding directly to the Sha’ar Ha’Ir the very next morning to speak with Ploni Almoni. After the exact circumstances we made clear, the two quickly reached an agreement that Boaz would indeed serve as the Go’el. At this point, instead of telling us that the deal was consummated, or even how this was done, the Megilah interrupts the narrative, seemingly to teach us an historical fact: “V’Zeos Lifnim B’Yisrael…LiKayem Kol Davar Shalaf Ish Na’alo.” The Passuk informs us that the way Kinyanim were done at the time was that one part would remove his shoe and give it to the other. Indeed the Pessukim continue, telling us that Boaz and Ploni Almoni completed their transaction in that exact manner.

Now, for this is not usually the way the Torah teaches us Halachos; it would be more common for the Megilah to tell us the way Boaz was Koneh his role as the Goel, and leave it to Torah Shel Ba’al Peh to explain the mechanics of the Kinyan. In fact, perhaps the entire Passuk is extra: from the fact that this Kinyan was done in this manner, would we not have known that such was the practice at the time? Certainly there must be a message in the fact that the Torah interjects this explanation of the Kinyan in middle of the story, and especially in Megilas Rus, which is not where one would expect to find it. The truth is that the Gemarah in Bava Metziah, and elsewhere, discusses this Passuk at length for it is the ultimate source for Kinyan Chalipin, which is a very common method of transaction when one is Koneh a large or immovable, which would be impossible to lift or drag. As the Passuk explains, in a Kinyan Chalipin the actual Kinyan is done on a smaller item, such as a shoe or a handkerchief, and through this Kinyan the larger item is conveyed to the new owner. It is through Chalipin, for example, that a car maybe acquired by lifting a shoe, or a field transferred through the exchange of a shoe.

There is a Machlokes in the Gemarah, however, as to whom the item used for the Chalipin must belong to: Rav holds that the item must belong to the Koneh, the one who is acquiring the object, while Levi holds that the item belongs to the Makneh—the one who is conveying the object.

In discussing this Machlokes, the Gemarah asks a question based on the assumption that according to Levi the Chalipin works as one Kinyan: when the Koneh lifts the pen, for example, that act functions as a Kinyan on the car as well. This assumption is quickly disregarded, in rather harsh terms—the Gemarah states that if Levi were present he would shoot sparks of fire at the questioner—and the real mechanics of the Chalipin are explained: “B’Hahi Hana’ah D’Ka Mekabel Mineih, Gamar V’Aknei Lei: The enjoyment that the Makneh gets from the fact that the Koneh accepted his item causes him to transfer the larger item to the Makneh.” Thus, Levi’s Chalipin operates via two separate Kinyanim, one of which spurs the other.

If we look at this exchange in the abstract, it appears that Levi holds that the way to affect a Kinyan, to show that one is truly willing to give his possession to someone else, is by creating a relationship. “B’Hahi Hana’ah D’Ka Mekabel Mineih, Gamar V’Aknei Lei”, the fact that the Koneh was willing to take the small object creates feelings of positivity that allows the primary object to be transferred without any further action on the part of the Koneh.

The Ritv”a notes that according the Levi the Koneh need not be anyone specifically Chshuv, in which case there would be a higher level of Hana’ah from the fact that he accepted the item—anyone who desires to be Mekabel something from his fellow engenders these feelings of positivity, such that the Chalipin is completed.

I think that this message is central to the Yom Tov that we are about to celebrate.

It is not coincidental that on this Yom Tov we celebrate “Mattan Torah” as opposed to “Kabbalas HaTorah”, for this highilights an essential aspect of the Torah itself: one cannot “earn” a Chelek in the Torah, rather it is given to him, and he must be Koneh it, as any other gift.

The Gemarah in Meggilah tells us: “Yagati U’Matzasi Ta’amin”, only if one asserts that he has toiled in Torah should we believe that he was successful in achieving greatness, as opposed to one who says he has accomplished without effort. R’ Chatzkel Abramsky points out that the terminology doesn’t seem to match: the word “Matzasi” refers to a found object, one that comes without any effort in an exchange—why does the Gemarah use this word to describe the results of one who expends effort in the pursuit of Torah?

R’ Chatzkel explains that the word Matzasi is indeed appropriate: one should never assume that he has earned the Torah—it can only be given to us by the Nosen HaTorah. By applying ourselves and engaging in Ameilus BaTorah, we can prepare ourselves, putting us in position to accept this gift, but we cannot merely earn it.

It is not surprising then that the Mishna refers to the forty-eight “Drachim SheHatorah Niknas Bahem”—Torah requires a Kinyan much as any object that is given as a gift. It cannot be bought and paid for, or earned, it can only be bestowed upon us.

The lesson of Boaz’s Kinyan, as explained by Levi, is therefore an essential message for this Yom Tov: “B’Hahi Hana’ah D’Ka Mekabel Mineih, Gamar V’Aknei Lei.” If we seek to be Koneh the Torah HaKedosha, we must first create the feelings of Hanaah that will cause Hakadosh Baruch Hu to be the Gamar V’Aknei.

R’ Shimshon Pincus explains that the Torah is referred to as a “Bris”, which by its very nature means a give-and-take relationship. The Torah is represents a two-way connection between us and the Nosen HaTorah—we show our love for Him, and he responds in kind by granting us the gift of the Torah. He gives the example of a child who reaches up to give his father a kiss, which the father then returns. This is not transactional, explains R’ Shimshon, but rather the love that the son shows for his father causes the parent to reciprocate these feelings to his child.

On Shavuos we bring the Shtei Halechem, which are referred to in the Passuk as “Mincha Chadasha.” The Kli Yakar notes that this is an especially appropriate terminology for Shavuos, because we must realize that each day can be a new Kabalas HaTorah, we can receive the Mincha, the gift of Torah, each day anew. We can approach each and evey day of our lives as the Yom Shenitna Bah Torah, for on every day we have the opportunity to be Mekabel the Torah. When we Lein Megilas Rus on Shavuos it may be easy to overlook the message contained within that is so closely related to the Chag Mattan Torosienu: how we can be Zoche to a Chelek in the Torah itself. It is from this story that we learn the Halachos of Kinyan that are so relevant to our own Kinyan HaTorah. “B’Hahi Hana’ah D’Ka Mekabel Mineih, Gamar V’Aknei Lei”: when we show our Ahavas Hashem, we can generate the feelings, Kaviyachol, that are necessary to cause Hakadosh Baruch Hu to bestow upon us the ultimate gift—Mattan Torah.

We need not limit this approach to the days of Shavuos though.

The Shtei Halechem, which we being on Shavuos, are referred to in the Passuk as “Mincha Chadasha.” The Kli Yakar notes that this is an especially appropriate terminology for Shavuos, because we must realize that each day can be a new Kabalas HaTorah, we can receive the Mincha, the gift of Torah, each day anew. We can approach each and evey day of our lives as the Yom Shenitna Bah Torah, for on every day we have the opportunity to be Mekabel the Torah.

On each day that we show our Ahavas Hashem, we can be Zoche to the gift of Torah, just as we were so many years ago at the foot of Har Sinai—we need only make the Kinyan.