Torah and Tea – Emor 5780

Welcome to another edition of Torah and Tea. Today we’ll talk a bit about the Parsha. It’s interesting that the Parsha’s name is emor—to say. Just a couple of weeks ago, we learned about improper speech: lashon hara—negative speech, and the portions of Tazria, Tzaraas, and Mitzora, which deal with the consequences of speaking negatively. Emor means “say,” but it can also mean to say things that are kind and uplifting. The power of speech is amazing—it can make a tremendous difference in someone’s life. Even something as simple as asking someone, “How was your day today?” can have a huge impact.

We see an example of this in the Chumash, when Yosef was in prison with the butler and the baker. One day, Yosef noticed their faces were downcast and asked, “Why are your faces sour today?” This led them to share their dreams, which Yosef interpreted. That moment set off a chain of events that eventually brought Yosef before Pharaoh and led to the salvation of the Jewish people from famine. It all started with Yosef noticing someone was upset and asking how he could help. This teaches us the importance of being there for others. The Rebbe explains that emor means to say encouraging words, to give people support and strength. If you do that, you can make a big difference in people’s lives.

There’s a difference between thinking something nice about someone and actually saying it. You might think, “I think you’re a great person,” but when you say it out loud, you bring it into the world and make it real. Just as saying lashon hara is worse than thinking it, speaking positively has tremendous power. When you say something kind, you create a real impact in the world.

I also want to mention that Thursday night and Friday is Lag B’Omer. There are two reasons for the celebration. During the period of the Omer, many of Rabbi Akiva’s students died. The Gemara says the reason was that they did not conduct themselves with honor towards one another. This is surprising, since just last week we read, “You shall love your fellow as yourself,” and Rabbi Akiva is the one who emphasized this as a central principle of the Torah—zeh klal gadol baTorah—this is a great principle of the Torah. If Rabbi Akiva taught this, why did his students fail in this area?

It wasn’t a simple lack of respect. Rather, because of their great love for each other, when they saw a friend acting in a way they disagreed with, they couldn’t pretend to agree. This is the idea of lo nohagu kavod zeh bazeh—they did not conduct themselves with honor toward one another. Many of the problems in Jewish history come from people acting l’shem shamayim—for the sake of Heaven. Each person thinks they know the true intent of their teacher, and because of that, they can’t honor someone with a different view. The lesson is that even when you disagree, you must still be respectful and accepting.

On Lag B’Omer, the plague among Rabbi Akiva’s students stopped. Some say it stopped completely, others say there was a break, but either way, Lag B’Omer is celebrated as the day the mourning ended. That’s one reason for the festival. As Mrs. Breiner mentioned, Hillel also taught a similar principle. The Talmud tells the story of a non-Jew who wanted to convert and asked Shammai to teach him the entire Torah while standing on one foot. Shammai, being strict, sent him away. He then went to Hillel, who was humble and accepting. Hillel said, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah; the rest is commentary. Go and study.” Again, we see the centrality of this principle.

Rabbi Akiva was also the teacher of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, whose passing is the second reason for celebrating Lag B’Omer. It’s surprising that we celebrate the passing of such a holy sage, the author of the Zohar, the foundational text of Kabbalah. But Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai himself instructed that his day of passing should be a day of joy. His life was deeply spiritual—he spent thirteen years hiding in a cave with his son, sustained by a carob tree and a spring of water, because the government sought to kill him. During that time, he reached great heights in Torah and mysticism, connecting to Hashem in a way beyond the ordinary.

Most people connect to Hashem through regular mitzvot, referred to as “creatures of the dry land” (open tzaddikim). Hidden tzaddikim like Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, who couldn’t perform many mitzvot physically, are compared to “creatures of the sea,” hidden beneath the surface. While he couldn’t do mitzvot like sukkah or tefillin in the usual way, he connected to Hashem on a spiritual level. When his time came to pass, he felt he was able to unite with Hashem even more powerfully, without the limitations of the physical body. He asked that his day be celebrated with joy, as it marked his ultimate connection to Hashem.

According to the inner teachings, Lag B’Omer is one of the happiest days spiritually, because it is Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s special day. He gave us the mystical part of Torah. Later, the Baal Shem Tov had an aliyat neshamah—his soul ascended to the heavenly chambers, where he asked Mashiach, “When are you coming?” Mashiach answered, “When your wellsprings will spread to the outside.” The Baal Shem Tov took the mystical teachings of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and brought them to the masses. The spreading of these teachings, especially through the Chabad Rebbes, is seen as a preparation for the coming of Mashiach.

Now, let’s return to our Parsha, Emor. We’ll look at two small pieces from Likkutei Sichos, volume 17, Emor 1 and Emor 2. This week, we have a single Parsha, Emor, sandwiched between several double Parshas. Emor is famous because every holiday, when we read from the Torah, we read from Emor, as it discusses all the holidays of the year. The Torah systematically lists the holidays, starting with Passover, then Shavuot, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot.

In the beginning of the Parsha, Hashem tells Moshe to speak to the children of Israel about the designated times—the holidays. The Torah says, “These are the festivals of Hashem, which you shall call holy.” But then, in verse three, instead of listing the holidays, it says, “For six days you shall do work, and on the seventh day it is a rest of rest, a holy convocation; you shall do no work, it is Shabbat in all your settlements.” Only after this does the Torah continue with the festivals. Rashi asks: Why is Shabbat mentioned here among the festivals?

The main difference between Shabbat and the festivals is that Shabbat does not depend on the Rabbis’ proclamation—it comes every seventh day automatically. The festivals, however, depend on when the Rabbis declare Rosh Chodesh—the new month. The holidays are set according to the calendar, which is determined by the Rabbis. Another difference is in the observance: Shabbat is called Shabbat Shabbaton—a complete rest, with all work prohibited. On Yom Tov, only certain types of work are prohibited; work related to food preparation is permitted.

Rashi explains that the Torah places Shabbat here to teach us the importance of the holidays. One might think that violating a festival is not as serious as violating Shabbat, since Shabbat is directly from Hashem and the holidays are set by the Rabbis. By mentioning Shabbat here, the Torah teaches that keeping the holidays is as important as keeping Shabbat. If you observe the holidays, it is like observing Shabbat; if you desecrate them, it is like desecrating Shabbat.

The Rebbe adds another point: Why does the Torah start with “Six days you shall do work”? The first time the Torah mentions Shabbat, it explains that we rest because Hashem created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. But here, the Torah could have simply said, “Keep the Shabbat.” The inclusion of “six days you shall do work” teaches that there are two categories: workdays and holy days. Anything not part of the six workdays—including Shabbat and the holidays—belongs to a separate category. This is why the Torah equates the holidays with Shabbat.

There is also a mitzvah to work for six days. Some people think they can just trust Hashem and not work, but Hashem wants us to make a vessel in the physical world for His blessings. There’s a story about a man who trusted Hashem to save him from a flood, but ignored all the help sent his way. Hashem wants us to put in effort—hishtadlut—and then He blesses our work. Maimonides writes that the prophets spoke of a future with abundance so that people could focus on Torah without distraction. Today, we have to work, but on Shabbat, we leave the physical behind and focus on the spiritual. During the week, we work; on Shabbat, we rest and connect to Hashem. Even within each day, we have our “Shabbat moments”: time for prayer, study, and spiritual connection.

Someone mentioned that the delicious food we eat on Shabbat and holidays is possible because we worked during the week to obtain it. That’s correct—we work to prepare, and then we elevate the physical through the mitzvah of eating on Shabbat and Yom Tov.

Let’s look at another piece from Emor, from Likkutei Sichos. We all know about kosher, but has anyone heard of chadash—the new grain? This is connected to the counting of the Omer. In the time of the Temple, on the day after Passover, they would bring an omer (a measure) of barley as an offering. Until that offering was brought on the 16th of Nisan, it was forbidden to eat from the new grain of that year. After the offering, the new grain became permissible. This concept of giving the first to Hashem appears in other mitzvot as well, like challah (separating a portion of dough), bikurim (first fruits), terumah (gifts to the Kohen), and maaser (tithes to the Levite). The Torah teaches us to recognize that everything comes from Hashem, and we show appreciation by giving the first portion to Him.

Most agricultural mitzvot apply only in the Land of Israel. For example, separating terumah and maaser is only required in Israel. However, the Torah sometimes uses the phrase b’chol moshvoteichem—in all your settlements—to indicate that a mitzvah applies everywhere, not just in Israel. Regarding chadash, the Torah says b’chol moshvoteichem, leading to a debate among the Rabbis whether the prohibition of new grain applies outside of Israel as well. Practically, when you buy packaged cookies or crackers, you might see the word yashan—old—meaning the flour was from grain harvested before the 16th of Nisan. Some are strict about this, others are lenient, but today it is easier to be careful about it because of modern storage and distribution.

The Rebbe teaches that sometimes, when we lack the opportunity to observe a certain mitzvah, it awakens a yearning for that mitzvah. There is a whole discussion about this, but we’ll leave it for another time.

Thank you all for joining. May everyone have a very happy Lag B’Omer, a good Shabbos, and a successful week. Looking forward to seeing everyone next time, im yirtzeh Hashem—if Hashem wills.