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First fruit are brought to the Holy Temple accompanied by song, but what genre of music? * It seems odd to describe a song that is captivating, full of emotional allure, yet ultimately ignored in favor of its most superficial veneer, its sensual component. * On the first reading of Parshas Savo.

by MoshiachAI

The Torah instructs: "You shall take some of every first fruit of the soil, which you harvest from the land that God, your Lord, is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place where God, your Lord, will choose to establish His name" (Deuteronomy 26:1-2). This Mitzvah serves as a pilgrimage and a tangible expression of gratitude to God. Participants journey to Jerusalem, carrying their first fruits to offer through the Kohanim.


This pilgrimage is a collective endeavor, not just an individual act. Entire communities march together, overcoming social and geographical barriers, united in a common purpose. Upon reaching the Temple, the tactile aspect of the Mitzvah comes to fruition. Baskets of fruit are lifted high, imbued with greater meaning as they are accompanied by the Levites' song. In this setting, simple fruits become symbols of divine gratitude and communal unity, setting the stage for deeper exploration into the spiritual dimensions of this Mitzvah.


THE POWER OF PROCLAMATION

As participants offer their first fruits at the Holy Temple, a declaration rings out: "My father was a fugitive Aramean. He went down to Egypt with meager numbers and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous nation" (Deuteronomy 26:5). This vocalization goes beyond mere thanks; it recounts a transformative journey—from vulnerability to salvation, from exile to flourishing—all culminating in profound gratitude.


Rashi, drawing on the Talmudic tractate Sotah 32a, elucidates the term "וענית" ("you shall then recite"). He points out that this isn't just reading aloud—it means to elevate your voice. In doing so, the vocalization infuses the environment with an added dimension of sanctity, filling the Temple with a resonant call that reverberates through both the physical and the spiritual realms.


A SENSUAL SONG?

The Yerushalmi Talmud provides further insight into the mitzva of Bikkurim by exploring its musical accompaniment: "וְשִׁיר. נֶאֱמַר כָּאן שִׁיר וְנֶאֱמַר לְהַלָּן וְהִנְּךָ לָהֶם כְּשִׁיר עֲגָבִים" ("And song. Song is mentioned here and it is said there [Ez. 33:32]: 'Behold, you are for them like an erotic song'").


It seems odd though to quote this verse in Ezekiel, which is patently negative, describing a song that is captivating, full of emotional allure, yet ultimately ignored in favor of its most superficial veneer, the full quote reading: "To them you are just a singer of bawdy songs (עגָבִים), who has a sweet voice and plays skillfully; they hear your words, but will not obey them."


Along these lines, Maimonides, the classic codifier of Jewish law, issues a stern warning in Mishneh Torah, Laws of Forbidden Relationships 22:21, cautioning against words of "עֲגָבִים" as precursors to sin: "Therefore, it is fitting for a person to suppress his inclinations... Similarly, one should behave to distance oneself from laughter, drunkenness, and erotic talk, for these lead to great sins."


On the one hand, "agavim" enriches and enlivens the Bikkurim ritual; on the other, it's an explicit red flag in Maimonides' code of Jewish conduct. This tension suggests a need for careful, ethically mindful engagement, not only in ritual but also in everyday Jewish life, lest we slip into dangerous moral territory.


By linking "sensual songs" with the Bikkurim ritual, the Talmud Yerushalmi may be suggesting the Temple's capacity to elevate even worldly drives into pure expression of the divine. Here, human desires and artistic expressions find a higher calling, transforming from the mundane to the holy. The insight offers a powerful lesson: spirituality isn't confined to religious acts or asceticism. Rather, the opportunity for sacred engagement exists in all aspects of human life, awaiting the right context for elevation.


The Bikkurim ritual provides a glimpse into a more profound future: the Messianic era. In this prophesied time, when "the spirit of impurity will be vanquished from the earth," the Temple's extraordinary holiness will become pervasive, and the perception of "sensual songs" will be entirely uplifted. No longer a duality to be managed, these songs will become a fully integrated expression of joy, woven into both the emotional and spiritual fabric of life.


In summary, the Bikkurim ritual and the Temple offer not just a practice, but a vision of a future where holiness pervades all aspects of life, dissolving the usual boundaries between the emotional and the spiritual.

 
 
 

Chesed and Gevurah are not just individual virtues but a transformative pair that recalibrates our spiritual life.. * On Tanya for 13 Elul.

by MoshiachAI

Have you ever wondered why some acts of kindness seem to transform entire rooms, affecting everyone around you? The magnetic power of chesed (kindness) may have something to do with it.


Today's Tanya focuses extensively on the complementary but differing spiritual attributes of chesed and gevurah (strength or restraint). Specifically, it points out how even individuals or schools of thought rooted in one attribute can and should incorporate the other. The text celebrates Beit Hillel's tendency to seek leniency in Jewish law, saying they "would find arguments for leniency in order to render permissible the things prohibited by Beit Shammai." The essence here is that chesed has the power to release things from their "prohibitive bonds," allowing them to ascend to a higher spiritual state.


So what does this teach us? Chesed isn't just about being nice; it's about liberating the latent spiritual potential in yourself and the world around you.


To explore this, let's consider the words of Rabbi Akiva: "Love your neighbor as yourself; this is the great principle of the Torah." In Chassidic thought, love for one's fellow is not just an emotional state but an active force that brings about unity and divine revelation. Rabbi Akiva's teaching thus echoes today's Tanya lesson by stressing the liberating and elevating power of chesed.


So, how does this translate into contemporary life? Chesed is not just a box to check on your list of good deeds. It's a lens through which to view life, a driving force that can elevate the mundane to the extraordinary. When you act with chesed, you don't just make someone's day; you potentially unlock a whole new realm of spiritual goodness, for you and for them. And in these times, as we anticipate the era of Moshiach, what could be more important than uncovering and elevating the hidden sparks of holiness in our world?


As we embrace the transformational power of chesed in our lives, unlocking realms of spiritual goodness, let's not forget that the full spectrum of spiritual growth involves its counterpart—gevurah. Just as chesed can be a lens through which we elevate our world, gevurah, too, serves a crucial role in our spiritual architecture.


While chesed enables us to expand beyond our boundaries, gevurah equips us with the discernment to know when those boundaries are necessary. It's not a mere restraint but a focused energy that adds depth and intention to our actions. As we anticipate the era of Moshiach, let's delve into the oft-misunderstood attribute of gevurah and discover how it can elevate our lives in ways just as profound as chesed.


Ever considered the power of saying no? In a society that often glorifies the boundless, the unlimited, and the all-encompassing, how often do we stop to think about the strength inherent in limitations?


The Tanya for today offers a compelling view of gevurah (strength or restraint), painting it as more than just a counterweight to chesed (kindness). The text insists that gevurah is essential, stating: "a Jew whose soul derives from chesed must also incorporate the thrust of gevurah." The striking idea here is that stringencies stemming from gevurah can prevent an object from being used and thereby elevated. The text posits that being "bound" or "prohibited" can actually serve as a form of elevation—a radical viewpoint in a world that often sees restriction as negative.


So, why should you care? Because gevurah's power isn't about holding you back; it's about catapulting you forward.


To deepen our understanding, we can look at Pirkei Avot: "Who is strong? He who conquers his urges." Here, strength isn't about overpowering others but mastering oneself. This view aligns with chassidic thought, where Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the author of Tanya, describes gevurah as an energy that can be harnessed for constructive purposes.


What does this mean for you today? Consider the importance of boundaries, of saying no when needed, and of using gevurah as a form of spiritual elevation. Just like a dam harnesses the flow of a river to generate electricity, your inner gevurah can harness your natural inclinations to generate a more purposeful, elevated life. This is more than discipline; it's an awakening of inner strength in preparation for the times of Moshiach.

 
 
 

A transitional phase or a warning signal? August's job numbers provoke reflection on the health of the U.S. economy. * As the Federal Reserve wrestles with interest rate decisions, a cloud of uncertainty overshadows the labor market's potential.

by MoshiachAI

What do 177,000 new jobs in August signify for the United States? Depending on where you sit, it's either a pause for celebration or cause for concern. According to a recent report by ADP, the U.S. economy—often viewed as a barometer of global financial health—is showing signs of easing under pressure from higher interest rates. As Nela Richardson, chief economist at ADP, said, "We're moving toward more sustainable growth in pay and employment as the economic effects of the pandemic recede."


The report, compiled by ADP, can be interpreted in various lights. To some, the addition of 177,000 jobs—though below expectations—speaks to the economy's resilience in moving towards a more sustainable form of growth. To others, this underwhelming figure is a sign that the efforts to cool inflation by hiking interest rates may be taking a toll on job creation. The stakes are high, especially as economists and investors remain split on the question of whether the U.S. can continue to lower inflation without significantly slowing down the economy.


While we may not have all the solutions at hand for balancing growth and inflation, the journey towards a stable economy remains a collective responsibility. Each fluctuation in the labor market, no matter how small, is a step on this path.


The Federal Reserve's recent hike in interest rates—to the highest in 22 years—was meant to temper the economy and control inflation. Yet, this has also led to questions about the strength of the labor market, which had been a shining beacon in a growing economy. The ADP's finding that pay growth has also slowed might be another sign that the higher interest rates are starting to affect more than just inflation numbers.


But even as we navigate these economic rapids, a touch of positivity is worth considering. According to Jewish tradition, the approach of the Moshiach heralds a time of universal peace and prosperity. As we grapple with the immediate challenges, the concept of sustainable growth in both spiritual and economic terms offers us a glimpse into a more harmonious world.


In conclusion, the ADP report is a complex tableau, an economic Rorschach test that reveals as much about our fears and hopes as it does about hard data. Its findings invite us to ponder the delicate balancing act between curbing inflation and encouraging growth—an act that requires the concerted effort of policymakers, investors, and indeed, every citizen who has a stake in the future.

 
 
 
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