This week is a double parsha, Behar-Bechukotai, but this will just be about Behar. There are a few interesting things mentioned in Behar. It starts off with ה׳ introducing Shmittah year, every seventh year you may not work the fields. After every seventh Shmittah there is Yovel, which is every 50th year. Yovel has similar rules to Shmittah but more rules. All slaves are freed and everyone goes back to their original land portion.ה׳ promises us that He will make sure we will have enough food. He explains to us some more rules about buying and selling houses, the difference between houses in a walled city and a regular house, and that is basically it.
There is one question that should have made the Jewish people afraid, What will they eat? They can't gather crops and they can't buy crops from other people. Another way to put the question is how do they pay for such a thing? How does the economy continue to function, especially in an agricultural society?”
In a school, not every faculty member is off during the same year. That would be impossible. Yet, surprisingly, the Torah prescribes that Shmittah to be observed simultaneously. We are all meant to leave the fields in the very same year.
Here’s a practical approach that you don’t have to be a genius to think of. Everyone should put away a percentage of their crops every year in anticipation of the coming crunch. It may require foresight and self-discipline but it solves the pressing problem. “No!” says the Torah. The solution is, “I will ordain My blessing for you in the sixth year and it will yield a crop sufficient for a three year period.” Since we are not planting during the 7th year, the 8th year is also a problem but the 6th year will miraculously provide for the needs of the nation during the 6th, the 7th, and the 8th years. How can anyone feel comfortable making such a mad request of an entire nation? If the promise is not delivered, how long would it take for the Torah to be discredited? That’s right! Six years! This is a program for economic and spiritual suicide. How could the Torah take such a massive risk in an area where there are such simple solutions, and why?
There was a biker going around a mountain curve when the road gave way and he found himself falling down into the ravine thousands of feet below. In the last moment, he managed to grab hold of a branch jutting out from the side of the mountain. Barely holding on for his life he screamed for help but to no avail. Suddenly and miraculously a thunderous sound was heard echoing from the heavens. “Is that You, Lord?” inquired the man in desperation. “Yes!” boomed the voice. “Help me!” cried the man. “I can’t hold on much longer! What should I do?” “Just let go of the branch!” came the heavenly reply, Asks the man again: “Is there anybody else up there?” Who would let go of that branch? Only an insane person or one who was certain that it was, in fact, The Almighty delivering the directive. To have the nerve to observe the Sabbatical Year requires being plugged into the historical reality of “Mount Sinai” in a sober way. Similarly, living the Sabbatical Year has the potential to reawaken and reaffirm the veracity of that national event. The Vilna Gaon writes, “The main function of the giving of the Torah is to inspire trust in Hashem.” Therefore, every courageous mitzvah step we take, though thousands of miles and years from that place, emanates from and beckons us back to Sinai.
Shabat Shalom,
Michael Finkelstein
