Tag Archives: Purim

Korach and Daniel: What’s the Connection?

This week’s parasha (in the diaspora) is Korach. In a traditional Chumash, at the end of each parasha there is a “Masoretic note” that provides a mnemonic to remember how many verses are in the parasha. This mnemonic is not random, and has a deep significance of its own. The mnemonic for parashat Korach, which has 95 verses, is “Daniel” (דניאל), which has a numerical value of 95. What hidden connection were the Masoretes concealing in this note? What does Korach have to do with Daniel?

“Death of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram” by Gustave Doré

At the heart of Korach’s rebellion was the argument that “all of Israel is holy” (Numbers 16:3). He accused Moses of nepotism and elitism, saying that Moses and his family took over the top positions and placed themselves above the commoners. Rashi comments (on 16:6) that Moses actually agreed with Korach to some extent, and said he also wished that everyone could be on the same spiritual plane. This is why he told Korach and his followers to take their own incense pans and attempt to make an offering like a High Priest. Moses’ defence was that, of course, he was only fulfilling God’s will.

In the absolute sense, Korach’s argument was not wrong, it was just not l’shem shamayim (as our Sages state in Avot 5:17). He was not rebelling for Heaven’s sake, or to truly elevate the people, but for his own glory and ulterior motives. This is why he failed. Truthfully, though, God did intend for all of Israel to be on the same plane—eventually. The Wilderness generation was not yet ready for it, but in time God would lead Israel towards oneness and equality. And when did this happen? Precisely in the time of Daniel!

After the First Temple was destroyed, Israel was exiled to the melting pot that was Babylon. Outside the Holy Land and without a Temple, the kohen had no role, and being a priest became mostly irrelevant. Instead, Babylon saw the rise of the chakham, the Jewish sage. The educated scholars knew how to adapt and what to do, and how to lead the community in exile. Of course, being a chakham was not based on birthright or genealogy, it was entirely based on merit and scholarship. Anyone could be a chakham!

Meanwhile, in a few short generations, the old Israelite tribal affiliations were forgotten. In Babylon, everyone became a Yehudi, simply a Judahite or “Jew”. We read in Megillat Esther that Mordechai was a Benjaminite, yet he is first called an Ish Yehudi before the text mentions that he is an Ish Yemini. His primary identity was that he was a Jew, not a Benjaminite! Mordechai knew his Benjaminite lineage because he was one of the elders and original exiles, but the younger generations that followed quickly forgot their detailed backgrounds. In short, everyone became a Jew (even the priestly Levites!) and everyone now had the potential to be a great chakham and leader, like Mordechai himself.

Mordechai’s contemporary was Daniel, another great sage who made sure to keep Jewish law despite serving the Babylonian government (as we read in the first chapter of the Book of Daniel), and worked tirelessly to ensure Judaism would not be forgotten in exile. In fact, Daniel plays a hidden role in the Megillah, as our Sages identified him with the character called Hatakh (Esther 4:5), palace attendant of Queen Esther (Megillah 15a). Hatakh is the hidden hero in the story, delivering the secret communications between Esther and Mordechai, and helping her confront Haman. There is a beautiful gematria here, too, because Haman (המן) is 95, as is Daniel (דניאל), suggesting numerically that Daniel “neutralized” Haman.

So, it was in the era of Daniel that Korach’s case for an equal Israel was realized. This is the deeper meaning for why parashat Korach has exactly 95 verses, and this is why the Masoretic note reminds us about Daniel at the end of Korach’s parasha.

Shabbat Shalom!

That Purim When Rava “Killed” Rabbi Zeira

‘Two ancient Jewish sages studying and ascending to Heaven’ an image generated for me (in just seconds!) by Midjourney AI (Artificial Intelligence) software.

The Talmud famously quotes the sage Rava as teaching that one should imbibe wine on Purim ad d’lo yada, until one does not know the difference between “cursed is Haman and blessed is Mordechai” (Megillah 7b). This is a bizarre statement, because a Jew is never supposed to be so heavily under the influence. Indeed, the Talmud continues right after to tell a story of how one Purim, that same sage Rava got so drunk that he seemingly “killed” Rabbi Zeira! All was well though because, great sage that he was, Rava resurrected Rabbi Zeira back to life. The short passage ends by saying that the following year, Rava invited Rabbi Zeira to another Purim feast, and Rabbi Zeira politely declined, saying “miracles don’t happen all the time!” Nothing more is said, leaving the reader scratching his head. What really happened between Rava and Rabbi Zeira?

The simplest reading suggests that the Talmud is trying to disqualify Rava’s opinion. It was Rava who suggested that one should get really drunk, so the Talmud right after describes how Rava himself got so drunk that he ended up murdering someone. Lesson: don’t get drunk on Purim! More ironic still, it was Rava who taught, elsewhere, that one shouldn’t even look at wine, since consuming wine could lead to bloodshed! (Sanhedrin 70a) It is most likely that he only taught this after that infamous Purim incident, when he learned his lesson.

The simple solution above works, but doesn’t answer the big mysteries: why did Rava phrase his teaching that one should not know the difference between Haman and Mordechai? To not be able to differentiate at all between good and evil seems almost impossible, even when totally under the influence. Second, how could a tremendously righteous and wise rabbi like Rava kill another person? This, too, seems impossible, even if he was completely drunk. Finally, if Rava had the power to resurrect another person, why did Rabbi Zeira fear to celebrate Purim with him the following year? Surely Rava wouldn’t make the same mistake again, and even in the extremely unlikely event that he did, couldn’t Rava just revive him once more anyway? To solve these problems, we have to look deeper.

As discussed in the past (see ‘The Secret Behind Wearing Masks and Getting Drunk’ in Garments of Light, Volume Two), the real reason to drink wine on Purim is only to be able to understand Torah on a more profound level. One of the effects of alcohol is that it increases levels of (and/or acts like) the neurotransmitter GABA, an inhibitor which shuts things off in the brain. When one drinks a little bit, GABA starts to shut down processes in the outer cortex and prefrontal cortex of the brain. This includes things like motor function, decision-making, and analysis, which serves to remove various inhibitions and restraints one has, often making a person “softer”, more open and more loving, and able to see things as being more attractive. When applied to Torah, a little bit of wine can help a person notice things they never did before, or come to new realizations. Indeed, GABA is also associated with the formation of new neural connections. And, with their normal analytical mind suppressed, a person may be able to think differently than their usual modes of reasoning, opening up the possibility to chiddushim. (With too much alcohol though, GABA levels start to go up deeper and deeper into the brain, and if it gets all the way to the brain stem—which controls vital functions like breathing—it can become fatal.)

This explains why Rava would teach that drinking wine in moderation can make a person wise (Sanhedrin 70a). Our Sages similarly taught that nichnas yayin, yatza sod: when one drinks wine, “secrets come out” (Sanhedrin 38a). The traditional way to understand this statement is that a person who drinks alcohol is likely to run their mouth and reveal embarrassing secrets. On a deeper level, however, it means that a person who drinks a little bit of alcohol may be able to uncover some new Torah secrets. They may be able to see things on a more profound level. For instance, within the phrase nichnas yayin, yatza sod is a mathematical secret where the value of “wine” (יין) is 70, as is the value of “secret” (סוד). Seventy comes in and seventy comes out!

In the same way, when Rava taught that one should drink until they don’t know the difference between “cursed is Haman” (ארור המן) and “blessed is Mordechai” (ברוך מרדכי), he really meant to look beyond the surface and see that, in gematria, these two statements are exactly equal! (Both add up to 502.) Mordechai is the force of goodness that perfectly neutralized Haman’s evil. So, it’s not that Rava said a person should get smashed on Purim, he meant that a person should drink just enough to learn Torah better and uncover its secrets. With this in mind, we can understand what happened between Rava and Rabbi Zeira that fateful Purim.

Basic Gematria Chart

Ascending to Heaven

As we might expect, when two sages get together on Purim, they are not getting together simply to party. They surely used it as an opportunity to pursue a higher spiritual endeavour. Purim, like all holidays, is when spirituality is heightened and the Heavens are more accessible. What Rava sought to do, with Rabbi Zeira’s help, is nothing less than ascend to the upper worlds. There is a long tradition of a pair or group of sages getting together to accomplish such feats. Surely the most well-known is the story of the Four Who Entered Pardes:

The Sages taught: Four entered “the orchard” [pardes], and they are: Ben Azzai, and Ben Zoma, Acher, and Rabbi Akiva… Ben Azzai glimpsed and died, and with regard to him the verse states: “Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His pious ones” [Psalms 116:15]. Ben Zoma glimpsed and was harmed, and with regard to him the verse states: “Have you found honey? Eat as much as is sufficient for you, lest you become full from it and vomit it” [Proverbs 25:16]. Acher “cut the saplings”. Rabbi Akiva came out safely. (Chagigah 14b)

Long before Rava and Rabbi Zeira, Rabbi Akiva led a group of four to ascend to the Heavenly “orchard”. Through various Kabbalistic means, the souls of the four wise men went up to the upper worlds, and the Talmud even describes some of the incredible things they saw. It was so shocking that Acher, previously known as Rabbi Elisha ben Avuya, “cut the saplings” and became a heretic. Ben Azzai’s soul never returned, while Ben Zoma went mad. Only Rabbi Akiva survived the experience and came out whole.

In his Ben Yehoyada, the Ben Ish Chai (Rabbi Yosef Chaim of Baghdad, 1835-1909) explains that this is precisely what happened to Rava and Rabbi Zeira! They were learning some really deep stuff and Rava was teaching Rabbi Zeira such great mystical secrets that his soul literally left his body and ascended heavenward. Rava was able to then draw Rabbi Zeira’s soul back down to this world and revive him. The Ben Ish Chai connects this to what happened at Mount Sinai, when the entire nation “died” and was “resurrected”, because God’s revelation was so intense. With this in mind, I believe we can properly understand why the Talmud uses a unique word in this passage:

Another version of ‘Two ancient Jewish sages learning Torah and ascending to Heaven’ generated by Midjourney AI

The standard Aramaic term for “killing” in the Talmud is katal (קטל). Yet here, the Talmud doesn’t use that word, but uses shecht (שחט) instead. This word is, of course, the one used in reference to the kosher slaughter of an animal, for meat consumption. So, what does it mean that Rava shechted Rabbi Zeira? We must remember that the purpose of shechitah is not to just kill the animal. Rather, shechitah is the mechanism through which the animal’s soul is able to return to Heaven. On a Kabbalistic level, it functions as a tikkun for the animal’s soul, allowing it to ascend upward. This is precisely what Rava did to Rabbi Zeira, by extracting the soul out of his body and elevating it to the upper worlds, giving him an “out-of-body” experience. I think this is the real reason the Talmud uses the term shecht!

To go back to our three starting questions: 1) Rava did not say one should be drunk out of their minds, rather he taught that one should drink a little wine in order to learn better and be able to unravel Torah secrets. 2) Rava never literally killed anyone, God forbid, but simply elevated the soul of Rabbi Zeira through the depth and breadth of his Torah teachings. 3) Rabbi Zeira did not wish to have another “out-of-body” experience with Rava the following year simply because he knew how perilous such a journey might be. After all, Ben Azzai’s soul was so happy up there that he never returned to Earth. So, it’s not so much that Rava wouldn’t be able to revive Rabbi Zeira again, but that Rabbi Zeira worried he might not wish to return!

It must be mentioned here that there is an alternate way to read the Talmud’s concluding words in this passage. Since the Talmud does not identify who the “he” is, some people read it to mean that it was Rabbi Zeira who asked for another Purim party with Rava—having had such an awesome experience the previous year—and it was Rava who declined, since he was not sure if he could revive Rabbi Zeira again! Whatever the case, we must remember that a Jew need not resort to chemical substances for spiritual elevation; Torah study itself can be far more potent.

Chag Sameach!

Should Jews Celebrate Halloween?

On Monday evening, people across the Western world will be celebrating Halloween. Today, it has become common in some places for Jews to partake in these festivities along with their non-Jewish neighbours. Might this be permissible? What are the origins of Halloween and should Jews participate in the holiday?

At first glance, the origins of Halloween appear to be Christian. The Christian “All Saints’ Day”, or “All Hallows’ Day” (hallow meaning “holy”) is commemorated on November 1st. In olden days it was customary for Christians to stay up the night before a holiday and hold a vigil, and the same was done for All Saints’ Day, hence All Saints’ Eve or All Hallows’ Eve, a name that eventually condensed into Hallowe’en, or simply Halloween. On this night, Christians would pray for the souls of the dead, and ring church bells for those in purgatory, as well as to remind the living about their ultimate fate. Some developed a custom to hand out “soul cakes” to commemorate the dead. It is believed that trick-or-treating came out of children and poor people going door-to-door to get soul cakes in exchange for prayers for the dead.

An antique Irish jack-o-lantern made from a carved out turnip.

However, as with many things Christian, the actual origins of Halloween date back to pagan practices. Like Christmas and Easter—which were instituted in place of earlier pagan festivals marking the winter solstice and spring fertility rituals—Halloween came in place of the earlier Celtic and Gaelic pagan holiday of Samhain. Samhain was celebrated on October 31st to mark the end of the harvest season and the start of the cold, dark, lifeless winter. It was believed that ghosts, fairies, and evil spirits emerged and would be more active through the difficult winter. Jack-o-lanterns were made (from pumpkins, turnips, and others) to ward off these evil spirits, and dressing up in ghastly costumes was thought to scare them away, too.

Meanwhile, people would leave offerings for the wicked spirits to appease them, as well as food and drink for the souls of their own deceased ancestors who were thought to return to Earth one night a year. This is the true origin of trick-or-treating! In some places, it was thought that the dead actually arose from their graves in the cemeteries to have a party, so a “danse macabre” re-enactment was performed, with people dressing up like the dead and going to dance and feast.

The Witch’s “Wheel of the Year”

Not surprisingly, Halloween was always an especially important day on the calendar for those practicing witchcraft and sorcery. Today, “neopagans” and Wiccans still consider Halloween one of their four major festivals (what they call a “Greater Sabbat”, unfortunately misappropriating our holy Shabbat). In short, Halloween is entirely a holiday of the Sitra Achra, a term for the realm of impurity and evil in Jewish mysticism.

With all of this in mind, there is no doubt at all that Jews should not participate in Halloween festivities. The Torah warns very strictly not to engage in any form of idolatry whatsoever, and something like 46 of the 613 commandments deal with various prohibitions related to idolatry and pagan practices.  Jewish law forbids even dabbling in darkei Emori, referring to various other practices of pagans, even if they are not directly idolatrous (as the Torah states in Leviticus 18:3: “Do not walk in their ways…”) In fact, even Protestant Christians used to oppose Halloween, and the Puritans much more vehemently. Halloween was actually not celebrated at all in the Americas at first. It was only with the infux of Irish and Scottish immigrants to America in the 1800s that the holiday started to become popular.

Some will argue that Halloween no longer has any religious connotations, and is simply a secular holiday and a fun time for the kids. This is false for several reasons. First, Halloween is quite clearly all about highlighting the dead, evil spirits, ghosts, demons, and the like, which is fundamentally a religious notion. Second, regardless of how they may be viewed today, the practices of Halloween are deeply rooted in pagan rituals, and there are those who do indeed still celebrate Halloween as a genuine pagan religious festival.

More significantly, Halloween teaches children nothing positive. Young minds are instructed to go out and request candy from strangers (while every other day of the year being cautioned not to take candy from strangers!) Some learn that it is okay to commit mischief. Aside from that, Halloween decorations tend to be disturbing and frightening, and stimulate no beneficial or constructive emotions in anyone. (Worse still, wicked people have used Halloween as an opportunity to abduct children, to poison treats, even to stick pins and needles into candies, among all the other horrible things that have been done on Halloween over the years.)

In stark contrast to Halloween, Judaism has Purim, a festival of “light, happiness, joy, and honour” (Esther 8:16). A holiday to celebrate life and people uniting for a good cause. Instead of begging for candy, children are taught to go out and deliver mishloach manot treats to others. Instead of hooliganism, children are taught to give matnot l’evyonim, charity to the poor. Instead of dressing up as evil spirits, demons, and grotesque beings, children dress up as regal heroes, prophets, prophetesses, and holy patriarchs and matriarchs—and if not these then at least a dignified, modest costume. If you like Halloween, simply switch to Purim!

To conclude, there is little of value in Halloween, a holiday all about death and mischief, eating junk food, frightening other people, and glorifying horror and violence. The decorations are disturbing, the blood sugar levels troubling, and the message entirely ungodly. The spiritual risk in engaging in something so deeply pagan—when God warns so sternly to avoid anything even remotely hinting of paganism or idolatry—is far too great. Thus, not only should Jews not celebrate Halloween in any way, they should encourage each of their friends and neighbours to abolish this unhealthy and unholy satanic death ritual once and for all.