For those who heard this drash last year, sorry. I hope it will still be interesting.
We call Hashem by many names, relating to him in different ways. Father, King, Savior, Creator, etc etc. This week's paresha emphasizes one such name, found nowhere else in the Torah as a reference to Hashem, but relatively common in later works, particularly tehillim (psalms), and tefilot (prayers). That name is Tzur, Rock. It is not so immediately evident how we are to relate to God in this way -- how do you relate to rocks generally? We have two explanations given in the Yalkut Shim'oni for the name: First haTzayar, the one who gives shape and form to matter. Don't forget about that, I will come back to it. There are then several midrashic treatments of haTakiph, the mighty one, whose characteristic might Rav Hirsch describes as the overpowering sort. In this role, the midrash describes God meting out reward and, much more so, punishment. Indeed, we see this theme prominently taken up by the rishonim, the medieval commentators. Rashi and Rashbam both say that these words refer to the punishments that he will send against the Jewish people, and Ramban says that they hint at midat hadin, the attribute of judgment. Clearly an idea with strong traditional support, brought here at the first instance of this way to refer to Hashem. However, when we look at how "Tzur" is used later on, in seems difficult to see it simply as an expression of din. Even within the paresha, we see "Tzur yeshu'ato", the Rock of his salvation, and "Tzur yeladkha", the Rock that gave you birth, and the post-ḥumash uses tend more toward that vein. Not exactly language of yira, of fear and awe.
To resolve this tension, I will recall to mind the first midrashic understanding of that pasuk, and connect it to another place where we see the word "tzur", albeit not as a name for Hashem. Everywhere in Tanakh that an implement is mentioned for berit mila (circumcision), that implement is always called "tzur". What is the role of the mohel? He cuts us, inflicting pain, in order that we may be brought closer to perfection. What is our attitude toward the mohel? Do we ask to be spared from his blade? Certainly we would be greatly upset if he cut any more than need be, or if he took pleasure in our pain, but we put our trust in him. We say, knowing that there will be pain, please cut according to your knowledge of what is needed, because we know that the result is worth the pain. So it is with Hashem in his attribute of strict justice. When we pray that he circumcise our hearts, do we expect that to be a painless process? Through his punishments, we are able to grow, we are shaped and given the form that is truly suitable for us. So, through the name Tzur, we relate to him in his judgment, but through bitaḥon (trust) rather than yira.
Why, then, do we pray for raḥamim (mercy), pleading that we not be held to account through strict justice? Should we not wish for a full punishment that will perfect us all at once? We are taught that not even the greatest tzadik can stand before Hashem's justice untempered by mercy. To seek such a shortcut is to court destruction. Raḥamim is needed to give us time to slowly improve, to take our due punishment bit by bit, to do teshuva and obviate the need for further correction through trial and tribulation. But that which has been decreed for us, do not think that it is too much or that God takes pleasure in our suffering, trust in his wisdom and his love. Try to grow from every pain that you experience.
Along those lines, a nice little story from yeshiva life. I don't generally go in for spooky hashgacha pratis (direct divine involvement) stories, but at least this one is in the first person, not about my roommate's aunt's friend. For background, I have had a bit of a problem with shaḥarit (morning services), historically. Really, with waking up in general. Now, a few days before Yom Kippur, I started feeling rather poorly. Headache, a little feverish, a bit dehydrated, and a sharp pain behind my eyes whenever I moved them. Naturally, my response was to drink vast quantities of water and sleep even more. Everything got worse. The headache especially became very nearly debilitating. Then, the day before Yom Kippur, I find myself awake and alert in good time to easily make it to davening, and feeling pretty good. I go, get through seliḥot, and start learning a little for the ten minutes until shaḥarit proper was scheduled to begin. As the davening is starting, I am in the middle of something, and I think maybe I will just finish a paragraph or two, and skip some of the opening psalms to catch up. BAM. Headache back instantly, and not subtly. I put away the book and start to daven, headache disappears again. Whole thing was maybe 2-3 seconds. Don't know how to explain it. But I know I am planning to work at being there on time in the future.
Back to the Torah, I would like to close with a question that I have been unable to resolve on this subject: our paresha ends with a reference to Moshe's sin with the waters at Kadesh. Now, when Moshe first brought forth water from a rock, at Rephidim, it was a tzur, and he was not criticized (Shemot 17). The second time, for which he was denied entry into the land, was water from a sela', a different word for rock with less connotation of hardness or sharpness (Bamidbar 20). How does this bear on our understanding of Hashem as a Tzur? I don't think that Hashem is ever referred to as a sela'.
Shabbat Shalom uMevorakh!
To resolve this tension, I will recall to mind the first midrashic understanding of that pasuk, and connect it to another place where we see the word "tzur", albeit not as a name for Hashem. Everywhere in Tanakh that an implement is mentioned for berit mila (circumcision), that implement is always called "tzur". What is the role of the mohel? He cuts us, inflicting pain, in order that we may be brought closer to perfection. What is our attitude toward the mohel? Do we ask to be spared from his blade? Certainly we would be greatly upset if he cut any more than need be, or if he took pleasure in our pain, but we put our trust in him. We say, knowing that there will be pain, please cut according to your knowledge of what is needed, because we know that the result is worth the pain. So it is with Hashem in his attribute of strict justice. When we pray that he circumcise our hearts, do we expect that to be a painless process? Through his punishments, we are able to grow, we are shaped and given the form that is truly suitable for us. So, through the name Tzur, we relate to him in his judgment, but through bitaḥon (trust) rather than yira.
Why, then, do we pray for raḥamim (mercy), pleading that we not be held to account through strict justice? Should we not wish for a full punishment that will perfect us all at once? We are taught that not even the greatest tzadik can stand before Hashem's justice untempered by mercy. To seek such a shortcut is to court destruction. Raḥamim is needed to give us time to slowly improve, to take our due punishment bit by bit, to do teshuva and obviate the need for further correction through trial and tribulation. But that which has been decreed for us, do not think that it is too much or that God takes pleasure in our suffering, trust in his wisdom and his love. Try to grow from every pain that you experience.
Along those lines, a nice little story from yeshiva life. I don't generally go in for spooky hashgacha pratis (direct divine involvement) stories, but at least this one is in the first person, not about my roommate's aunt's friend. For background, I have had a bit of a problem with shaḥarit (morning services), historically. Really, with waking up in general. Now, a few days before Yom Kippur, I started feeling rather poorly. Headache, a little feverish, a bit dehydrated, and a sharp pain behind my eyes whenever I moved them. Naturally, my response was to drink vast quantities of water and sleep even more. Everything got worse. The headache especially became very nearly debilitating. Then, the day before Yom Kippur, I find myself awake and alert in good time to easily make it to davening, and feeling pretty good. I go, get through seliḥot, and start learning a little for the ten minutes until shaḥarit proper was scheduled to begin. As the davening is starting, I am in the middle of something, and I think maybe I will just finish a paragraph or two, and skip some of the opening psalms to catch up. BAM. Headache back instantly, and not subtly. I put away the book and start to daven, headache disappears again. Whole thing was maybe 2-3 seconds. Don't know how to explain it. But I know I am planning to work at being there on time in the future.
Back to the Torah, I would like to close with a question that I have been unable to resolve on this subject: our paresha ends with a reference to Moshe's sin with the waters at Kadesh. Now, when Moshe first brought forth water from a rock, at Rephidim, it was a tzur, and he was not criticized (Shemot 17). The second time, for which he was denied entry into the land, was water from a sela', a different word for rock with less connotation of hardness or sharpness (Bamidbar 20). How does this bear on our understanding of Hashem as a Tzur? I don't think that Hashem is ever referred to as a sela'.
Shabbat Shalom uMevorakh!
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