(This drash is “text-centric.” If
you like text, dive in. If you’re
wary, please give it a try. If you’re
still confused after reading it, know that you are not alone because Talmud
texts are confusing to many people, and feel free to be in touch with me. The
two Talmudic passages that are discussed in this drash— from
tractates Shabbat and Rosh Hashanah—are
included at the end of the drash.)
We think we know what time is.
Scientists have defined one second to be 9,192,631,770 oscillations of a
hyperfine transition in the 133 caesium atom—at least if we’re all in
the same inertial reference frame. Einstein’s Special Relativity taught us that
it’s not that
simple. Hermann Minkowski’s
spacetime gave us a very different perspective on the very large scale. But
here at home, a day still has 24 hours, an hour has 60 minutes, and the garbage
goes out Thursday morning. Most of contemplate the meaning of time in our lives
far more than the implications of spacetime for the universe. Steve Jobs said: “My
favorite things in life don’t
cost money. It’s really
clear that the most precious resource we all have is time.” More than two centuries earlier, William
Penn said: “Time is
what we want most, but what we use worst.” And
twenty-one centuries earlier, Pericles said: “Time is the wisest counselor of all.”
This week’s double
portions, Behar and Bechukkotai, has something to say about time.
Among the many subjects it takes up is shemittah, the sabbatical year.
As an ancient and extraordinarily progressive eco-friendly and anti-poverty
institution, shemittah is unsurpassed. It’s remarkable. For one in every seven
years, the land was permitted to lie fallow to renew itself—a sabbath
for the land. All those who had sold themselves into slavery to pay off debts
was released and sent home. Land that was sold outside a patrimony due to
economic hardship was returned to the original owner. The shemittah is a
great leveling institution: the poor were given a new lease on life, an
opportunity to begin anew. It turns out that Behar offers us even more
wisdom: a principle to live by that speaks to ever facet of life. Tracing the
path of that principle, we begin with Chanukah.
The Babylonian Talmud records a
famous argument between the Schools of Hillel and Shammai concerning how to
light the Chanukah menorah.
Bet Shammai say: On the first day
eight lights are lit and thereafter they are gradually reduced. But Bet Hillel
say: On the first day one is lit and thereafter they are progressively
increased.
We know who won this one because we
light one candle the first night and increase by one each night. But did you
ever wonder why the School of Hillel held this opinion and why the
School of Shammai held the opposite view? Talmud provides two explanations, one
attributed to R. Yose b. Avin, and another according to R. Jose b. Zevida (see
Shabbat 21b below). The first R. Yose understands the candles in the menorah to
be a counting mechanism, a candle-calendar for keeping track of the festival.
The difference is that Bet Shammai want to count how many days remain which,
given the story of the miraculous cruse of oil that lasted eight days, makes
sense; Bet Hillel want to count each day of the festival as it occurs. The
second R. Yose tells us that Bet Shammai is concerned with the sacrifices,
which makes sense since Chanukah is about the rededication of the Temple and
reinstitution of the sacrificial rites; Bet Hillel, however, is aiming for a
far more general principle that applies well beyond Chanukah: “we promote
in sanctity but do not reduce.” For
Bet Hillel, this principle bespeaks not only the story of Chanukah, but all of
Torah and Judaism: it is all about increasing holiness in the world.
Bet Hillel has framed the principle
of increasing holiness in very general terms, but it has concrete applications.
Tractate Rosh Hashanah (daf 9) considers the situation of holy time. If we want
to add to holy time, where do we draw that extra time from? Clearly, from
ordinary time. For example: Shabbat begins at sundown Friday and ends at
sundown Saturday, but… we light
the shabbat candles 18 minutes before sundown Friday and do not make havdalah
until at least 42 minutes after sundown Saturday. Therefore, while in theory
Shabbat is 24 hours long, in reality we keep it for 25 hours. We take 18
minutes from Friday and 42 minutes from Saturday to—in the
words of the Rabbis—“add
from the ordinary on to the holy.” We
convert “ordinary
time” into “holy time.”
In tractate Rosh Hashanah, the Sages
want to know what the basis in Torah is for this principle. A baraita
(Mishnah-era teaching that didn’t make it into the Mishnah) is
brought that offers as the basis the verse Exodus 34:21: …the
seventh day you shall rest; in plowing time and harvest time you shall rest. This is a
surprising verse to bring because it’s about shabbat and, in context,
merely means that even during the pressured seasons of plowing and
harvest, one must nonetheless cease from work on shabbat.
Talmud then records the differing
views of two Sages: R. Akiba and R. Yishmael. R. Akiba understands the verse
from Exodus to apply to the shemittah (sabbatical year) because in our
Torah portion, Behar, we already find the prohibition of plowing during the
sabbatical year: You shall not sow your field (Leviticus 25:4). Therefore,
the reference to plowing and harvesting in Exodus 34:21 must refer to something
else (since, for R. Akiba, Torah never repeats itself). R. Akiba explains: in
the sabbatical year, we are to stop plowing even before the year begins,
and refrain from harvesting even after the year ends. In this way, we
lengthen the year by a few weeks or perhaps months on both ends, enlarging it, “adding
from the ordinary on to the holy.”
R. Yishmael offers an alternative
view. For him, the verse from Exodus pertains to Shabbat. He learns the
principle of “adding
from the ordinary on to the holy” from
another source: the commandment concerning Yom Kippur. Specifically, he cites
Leviticus 23:32: It shall be a sabbath of complete rest for
you, and you shall practice self-denial; on the ninth day of the month at
evening, from evening to evening, you shall observe this your sabbath. R.
Yishmael, noting the peculiar wording of the verse, explains that, in fact, we
begin fasting before sundown on Yom Kippur, and do not eat until after
sundown at the conclusion of Yom Kippur. And so it is: we stop eating prior
to sundown and arrive in synagogue prior to sundown because Kol Nidre must be
chanted before the sun sets. At the other end, after Yom Kippur, we must pray ma’ariv (evening
prayers) and then make havdalah before we break the fast. The “day” of Yom Kippur is stretched out at
both ends, “adding
from the ordinary on to the holy.”
For the Sages, holy time provides a
unique and unparalleled opportunity. Let’s return to the observations of three
wise people, and imagine that they were talking, specifically, about holy time.
Pericles: “[Holy]
Time is the wisest counselor of all.” Holy time calls us to stop our
normal activity and consider our impact on the world and the lives of others.
Holy time carves out space in our lives for meditation, reflection, and prayer:
Who are we? Who do we wish to be? What are we doing with our lives? William
Penn said: “[Holy]
time is what we want most, but what we use worst.” Holy time affords us the opportunity
to live in eternity and to contemplate what might be, on the one hand, and on
the other to be wholly in the moment with our thoughts, with those we love, and
with all creation. But for that to happen, we need to consciously and
purposefully sanctify the time. The Jewish mechanisms for that include lighting
candles, kiddush, and other rituals that help us savor holy time. Steve Jobs: “My favorite things in life don’t cost money. It’s
really clear that the most precious resource we all have is [holy] time.” Imagine
holy time as a resource to help us infuse our lives with purpose and meaning,
pleasure and joy, reflection and direction, community and eternity. And it’s free.
Hey, if it’s free, “add from
the ordinary on to the holy” and enjoy!
There’s a
principle to live by.
Babylonian
Talmud, tractate Shabbat 21b
Bet Shammai say: On the first day eight
lights are lit and thereafter they are gradually reduced. But Bet Hillel say:
On the first day one is lit and thereafter they are progressively increased.
Ulla said: In the West
[Land of Israel] two amoraim, R. Jose b. Avin and R. Jose b. Zevida, differ. [R.
Jose b. Avin] maintains that
Bet Shammai’s
reason is that it shall correspond to the days [of the festival of Chanukah]
still to come, and Bet Hillel’s reason is that it
shall correspond to the days that are gone. But [R. Yose b. Zevida] maintains:
Bet Shammai's reason is that it shall correspond to the bullocks [offered as
sacrifices on the altar in the Temple] for the Festival; while Bet Hillel's
reason is that we promote in [matters of] sanctity but do not reduce.
Babylonian
Talmud, tractate Rosh Hashanah 9a,b
And
how do we know [from Scripture] that we add to from the ordinary on to the
holy? —
As it has been taught: …on
the seventh day you shall rest; in plowing time and harvest time you shall
rest (Exodus 34:21).
R.
Akiba, [commenting on this,] said: There was no need [for Scripture] to specify
the plowing and harvest of the Sabbatical year, since this has already been
mentioned [in], You shall not sow your field (Leviticus 25:4). It must
therefore refer to plowing on the eve of the sabbatical year that is passing
into the sabbatical year, and to harvesting in the sabbatical year that continues
into the period after the sabbatical year.
R.
Yishmael said: Just as plowing is optional, so too harvesting [here referred
to] is optional, excluding the harvesting of the Omer, which is a mitzvah.
Whence
then does R. Yishmael derive the rule that an addition is to be made from the
ordinary on to the holy? — He learns it from that which has been taught:
And you shall afflict your souls on the ninth day (Leviticus 23:32[1]).
I might think [literally] on the ninth day. It therefore says, at
evening. If at evening, I might think, after dark. It therefore
says, on the ninth day. What, then, am I to understand? That we begin to
afflict ourselves [by fasting] while it is yet day. This teaches that we add
from the ordinary on to the holy.
© Rabbi
Amy Scheinerman
[1]
Leviticus 23:32 on Yom Kippur: It shall be a sabbath of complete rest for
you, and you shall practice self-denial; on the ninth day of the month at
evening, from evening to evening, you shall observe this your sabbath.
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