Kavana (concentration)- The defense of the mind against external penetration

                Concentration is one of the most fundamental and essential elements of a meaningful tefila (prayer). Each time we say Shema Yisrael, we’re supposed to cover our eyes with our right hand to minimize the possibility of being distracted to the very best of our abilities. Shema is just one of many prayers that demand our upmost concentration. The early pious ones (Chasidim Harishonim) would prepare themselves for an hour before each prayer so that they could maintain proper concentration. They appreciated the difficulty of remaining focused on the one hand and the importance of it on the other. If I were to use them as a model to improve my own prayer, over the course of an hour my mind would wonder to so many places that I probably wouldn’t even realize when davening started much less have improved concentration throughout it. Additionally, waking up an hour earlier would give the added difficulty of fighting off sleep while attempting to focus. We need to find a model for the preparation that is greatly lacking from our tefila. Simply jumping in to davening while anticipating the day to come or reflecting on the day that passed will leave us zooming through each prayer while mumbling the words off by memory. Tefila would be the least significant part of the day, and an opportunity to come close to God will be turned into an obligated waste of time.

                In the fifth book, Harry is challenged to focus so intently that even men with access to his brain could only see the thoughts that he wanted them to. For this exercise he received a few very helpful tips. Occlumency, as Snape explains, is the ability to block out certain memories and feelings. It’s the use of one’s brain to repel intrusions and stay focused. That sounds like it would be exactly what we need to push out distractions and stay focused on the words, their meaning, and our personal connection to them. The three steps that Snape repeats to Harry in the first lesson are close your eyes, clear your mind, and let go of all emotion. Only then can he achieve proper focus. Firstly, like we see by covering our eyes in Shema, the more we’re seeing the harder it is to pay attention. Secondly, it’s not enough just to concentrate on one thing out of the hundreds that are zooming through your head. That concentration will only persist for so long before another idea pushes it out. First the mind needs to be emptied. Rather than blocking out ninety nine distraction to focus on one thought. Empty out everything and build what you want to focus on from scratch. Lastly, while emotions themselves may not be distracting, in fact they should even be embraced while davening, the way you feel has a powerful influence on how you think. We need to let go of our emotion and allow our prayer to influence how we feel rather than the other way around.

                Upon the completion of the lesson, Snape gives Harry homework to prepare for their next meeting. “You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep; empty it, make it blank and calm, you understand?” Proper focus is a skill. Clearing out your thoughts is an art. These things can’t be done on a whim; they require constant practice. Additionally, what’s true about occlumency is true for tefila as well. “And be warned, Potter… I shall know if you have not practiced” if you don’t work on it, it will become readily apparent when put to the test. Snape can tell immediately when Harry hadn’t been practicing because focus can’t be so easily turned off an on.

Harry Potter and the Power of Desire

                Of all the miracles that occurred throughout the Chanuka story, the least important, least critical, and least significant one would seem to be the oil lasting for eight days- the very miracle that we glorify and celebrate above all others. We went to a war with a massive army that had far more advanced weapons, and all signs indicated that a slaughter was going to occur. The only Jews who remained true to the Torah where about to be mass murdered. However, there was a miracle that our tiny, not well-equipped army drove the Greek forces out of Yerushalayim. Not only is that a tremendous miracle in nature, but it was tremendously important. Without it numerous Jews would have been murdered. At the same time, we faced, not a physical threat, but a spiritual one. The Greek culture made its way into Judaism, and it was taking the nation by storm. Their Hellenism was leading Jews to neglect the Torah for the values and practices of the Greeks. Those Jews who deserted the Torah were called Mityavnim- meaning people who were becoming Greek. That had never before happened. We had been oppressed by many other nations, but there wasn’t a group called the Mitashurim- people who were becoming Assyrians. We faced a real threat to our religion and culture, and only by a series of miracles was it maintained. Without them we wouldn’t have been here today. What would have happened if the oil that was enough for one day only burnt for one day? Nothing! We’re not talking about our spiritual or physical existence. We’re talking about one positive commandment that we wouldn’t have done for one week. And seeing as how we had no oil there’s no way God would have held us accountable. When something is completely out of your hands, you’re exempt from performing it. We would have gone back, waited a week, and been exempt from the performance of the mitzvah until more oil came. No harm done. It seems like an almost unnecessary miracle. Thanks God, but we wouldn’t have minded waiting for a week. What makes this miracle so important to commemorate?

                Neville is perhaps one of the most abysmal, unimpressive wizards in the series… at least for four books. He can’t prepare the simplest of potions without seriously injuring himself or one of his classmates, he doesn’t master the simplest of spells- not for Flitwick nor for McGonagall. He makes a fool of himself the first time he flies. His family was sure he was a squib until they accidentally dropped him out of a second story window, and he bounced back. Needless to say that if he was the chosen one in the end, the Wizarding world would have been in trouble. But interestingly, he’s exceptional in Herbology. He ends up being a professor for the subject; he’s clearly not an idiot. No, I think what we see from Neville in Herbology is what we see from him in the fifth book and on. What someone can accomplish if it means enough to him. He’s a forgetful, klutzy, sub-standard wizard, but all of a sudden something happens to him in the 5^th book. He joins the DA, and for the first time he’s learning spells not because he has to or to prepare for a test, or because he’s afraid of the teacher. He’s learning and practicing because it’s important to him, and what we see is exceptional. For the first time he could disarm, stun, and preform difficult defensive spells on a high level that not just any wizard could perform. When Bellatrix breaks out of Azkaban we see a side of Neville that we would have never thought possible. The only person mastering spells faster is Hermione, and there are wizards in there who are of age and two years older than he is. Ginny is exceptional when it comes to Jinxes, but in the DA meetings Neville was just outshining the rest. He practiced at any opportunity; he wouldn’t accept that that he couldn’t do something. Neville, the kid who was so magically unadapt, went to the ministry and fought with Voldemort’s Death-Eaters at the age of fifteen. He spent his seventh year fighting of the Cruciatus curse. He killed one of Voldemorts Horcruxes. He proves to be one of the bravest, most talented students in Defense Against the Dark Arts. How did that happen? He showed almost no talent for four years. Neville displays the power of desire and hard work. When his effort came from a personal burning desire to succeed, there was no one better than him.

                It says in the Book of Maccabees that while fighting, the Jews skipped the holiday of sukkot. They didn’t have the opportunity to celebrate it. They didn’t have the opportunity to bring the sacrifices or to perform the various rituals, but it’s okay… they had an excuse. There was nothing they could have done. There was simply no opportunity. They were exempt. After weeks of fighting they returned to the Beit Hamikdash, and their first thought wasn’t resting, feasting, or even celebrating. Their first thought was we missed Sukot! How can we make up for all of those missed opportunities to do a mitzvah?! They established an eight day commemoration opposite the eight day holiday that they missed due to the war. The very laws of Chunaka hint that to us multiple times. One opinion in the Talmud is that we should light the candles starting from 8 and decreasing each night because the sacrifices on sukkot decrease. There’s a minimum and maximum height off that ground that the Chanukiah (commonly referred to as menorah) may be lit. Coincidentally, these heights are the same as the minimum and maximum height that a sukkah may be! The only thing the Maccabees wanted to do was make up for the commandments that they missed even though they would never be held accountable for what they didn’t do! It didn’t matter to them. They didn’t have to do these mitzvot; they wanted to, and they weren’t willing to accept that they couldn’t fulfill the commandments despite having missed the date by over two months. They established an eight day commemoration because they wanted to, and because they had a burning desire to come close to God through these Mitzvot. That effort and commitment was incredibly powerful.

Perhaps it was the power of the Jews deep seeded desire to connect with God and perform mitzvot that they didn’t have to do that warranted the miracle of the oil. Perhaps God looked at us and said that if you want to perform my mitzvot so badly that even when you don’t have to you still invest all of your energy into performing them then where you fall short of performing a mitzvah that you’re not even obligated to do, lighting candles with no oil, I’ll take care of it. We showed that being exempt from a mitzvah wasn’t cause for celebration for us. The mitzvot were the most precious thing in the world to us, so Hashem enabled us to do every last one of them even by miraculous means. Perhaps that’s what we should be learning from Chanuka- the power of connecting to God from a deep-seeded desire to do so as opposed to an obligation to do so. The Talmud says that a person should only learn the areas that he desires to becasue that will be the only area he will truly understand. Here in the time of Chanuka we commemorate a number of things. Our culture and way of life were at risk of being wiped out. The Torah was at risk of being forgotten to make room for new and exciting ideas. The solution to this problem was not and never will be force yourself to do a lot of things you don’t like. Just like Neville shouldn’t have continued with potions after his fifth year, we shouldn’t invest all of our time in the areas that don’t interest us. The way of connecting to God and learning His Torah on a more powerful level is for it to be from a place of love and desire. Sure there are basic obligations. But I connect to God by helping others and doing acts of loving kindness then that should be my central focus. If I connect to God more through learning than through praying, then rather than a four hour davening on Shabbat, I’ll do an hour and a half and then learn. If you connect to God through touring His amazing creations and seeing His beautiful sights then don’t fight it; use it to bring yourself closer. Of course, we have the obligations in the Torah that we cannot neglect, but we see from Neville the difference between a person practicing from desire as opposed to a person practicing from fear. We can only get to that place that the Jews were in, a place where their first thought was we just want to do your mitzvot Hashem, if we connect to Him and love Him. That can only happen by exploring by what means of connecting to God am I most comfortable and most happy? To fight back against losing our culture and losing our connection to Torah, we can’t just force ourselves and everyone around us to follow it, we need to love it. We need to reveal what element of the Torah we have a burning desire for. Then nothing and no one will be able to take us away from it.  

Harry Potter and the Taste of the Tree

                You may be surprised to find that if you were to eat an etrog, one of the four species we take on Sukot, it would taste oddly similar to the very tree the etrog came from. While I’ve never tasted a tree, I know this because, while discussing the commandments of Sukot, the Torah says that we need to take a fruit of a tree. The Talmud elaborates on this and says that the intention of the Torah is that the taste of the tree is like the taste of the fruit that we need to take. Our tradition from Moshe is that this fruit is an etrog. Generally, when something is a tradition from Moshe, the torah doesn’t address or explain what our tradition is supposed to. When the Torah says totafot, there’s no explanation that it was referring to black boxes with different scrolls inside that we know today as tfiliin. That we only know because of a tradition from Moshe. The Torah doesn’t write words for no reason, which is why I want to explore an additional reason why we’re told in the Torah that the fruit we’re looking for has the same taste as the tree it comes from. Perhaps licking the tree would be exactly like licking an etrog, or you maybe have to do something to it first like grind it or grate it. I can’t personally verify the truth of that. However, I can try to prove the truth in what I believe to be the deeper hidden meaning of the etrog’s description. I can try to prove why it’s crucial that the Torah tell us that the taste of the tree is the taste of the fruit and why this fruit is such a fundamental part of sukkot.

                It’s fascinating to hear the thought process of the sorting hat. He really boils people down to their essence and makes well though-out and logical placements. We even see him spend a full minute on certain people’s placement. In short, it’s no simple decision. Harry noticed that it took a while for the hat to decide that Seamus belonged in Gryffindor (I believe we find out in the fifth why he was questionable as well as why he was placed in Gryffindor in the end). It seems that even the object bewitched for sorting still has difficulty. Yet, at a certain point you’d expect someone to pick up on the fact that ninety nine out of a hundred times he just puts the person where his parents were. In the entire series Siruis may be the only definite exception to that rule. On the one hand we see that the decision is based on very complex considerations, and on the other hand, any teacher who knew their parents could call what house they would be in with exceptional accuracy before even meeting the person. That being said, I don’t believe it’s a contradiction.

                Our first impression of Draco Malfoy reveals that already from a young age he has a biased against muggle-borns. By the second book he’s willing to call Hermione a mud-blood to her face, and it’s just surprising to see someone as young as twelve who can be so foul. He, along with Crabbe and Goyle, display such hideousness very early on, and the reason is simple. They spit out what they’ve absorbed from their Death-Eater parents. Luna Lovegood may be among the only people to find her father’s work to be logical. Even though it wasn’t always his most prominent attribute, Neville displayed the pure bravery that his parents became famous for as early as the first book. Ron becomes the sixth out of seven Weasleys to end up in the same house as his parents, and, along with Bill and Ginny, break the stream of pureblood in their family that their parents preached wasn’t important. Then there’s obviously Harry who’s constantly reminded just how similar he is to his father in every respect. He had never even met his father! Simply by spending time with his friends and hearing stories he was automatically inclined to do as his father did. It’s innate, and we see from a dream he had in the third book just how much a year with a friend of his father’s impacted him. Harry was walking through the forrest chasing wisps of his patronus with a firebolt on his back. The excellence in quiditch that he already had was displayed by the broomstick he was holding, and the other elements of his father that he so aspired to attain were symbolized by the wisps of light, which would soon take the form of a stag. He was chasing both his and his father’s patronus. He was chasing after what would link him to his father. All of this in the book where he meets all of his father’s friends.

It’s clear both based on their sorting and on their most dominant qualities that throughout the series Rowling writes the characters with a striking similarity to their parents. Even the characters who didn’t turn out like their parents still had a lot in common. There’s no question the Sirius was much closer to Slytherin than James. Sirius essentially sent Snape off to his death in school, while James risked his life to save Snape. Sirius was ready to kill Pettigrew in the third book, and we’re told by Dumbledore that James would have saved him. As much as Sirius hated his family's mentality and beliefs, he grew up in their house, and he was more similar to them than he wanted to admit. To understand the seeming contradiction, a crucial distinction needs to be drawn. Malfoy wasn’t in Slytherin because his father was in Slytherin. He was in Slytherin because he was so much like his father… who was in Slytherin. That hat does look at exactly who the person is, but for good reason, that’s almost always who their parents are as well. In short, one of the most commonly seen phenomena in Harry Potter is as the expression goes- The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

                In that age old expression, the tree of course represents the parents, and the fruit that was detached from it represents children. I think that’s the same exact metaphor that the Torah utilizes. The taste of the tree is like the taste of the fruit is the original the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. However the tree tastes, that’s how the fruit will taste. Essentially, the way a parent acts or relates to something will almost inevitably be how the children act and relate to it as well. Parents who don’t try to connect to the meaning and the beauty of Torah and mitzvot and then wonder why their children don’t keep them at all are over-looking the fact that the taste of the tree is the taste of the fruit. If you treat Judaism like a burden, your children will almost inevitably do the same. The Torah is trying to stress here the power that parents have in impacting their children. A child’s personality is a reflection of what they saw and learned from their parents. That’s a tremendous responsibility as well as opportunity. The nation of Israel started from Yaakov’s children, as opposed to Avraham’s and Yitzchak’s, not just because he had more, but because he had twelve righteous children who built a special connection with Hashem, and the nation needed to be built on the importance of proper education and proper influence from parent to child.

                This message is especially important on Sukot. The Jews left Egypt on Pesach and started a fifty day journey until they were ready to receive the Torah. Shortly after they made a grave mistake by making the golden calf and were camped by Har Sinai until they received the second set of tablets on Yom Kipur. At that point they really began the traveling that we commemorate by dwelling in sukot. But not only did they begin traveling, they began what would continue for generations- inculcating mitzvot into their everyday lives. For the generation who was at Har Sinai and heard Hashem speak, it wasn’t crazy to imagine having a personal connection with Hashem; it wasn’t hard to find significance and meaning in what they were doing. But for every generation afterward the difficulty would increase. That’s when it becomes most important that the taste of the tree is like the taste of the fruit. When the magic is bound to diminish through the generations, the clarity with which parents display their connection to Hashem becomes indispensable.

The Ten Commandments were divided among two tablets. The first one being mitzvot between man and God and the second one between man and man. It’s commonly asked why honor your father and mother is placed on the first tablet given that it’s a mitzvah between two people. Rav Hirsch explains that anything on the second tablet can be figured out logically or even be instinctive. However, the first tablet wouldn’t be. From parents, or great teachers who are often compared to parents, we derive the knowledge and ability to follow Hashem properly. It was so exceptional that Avraham realized on his own to follow Hashem because things like recognizing that He is all-powerful or sanctifying His holy days are something we can’t figure out on our own nor are they easy. They need to be taught; they need to be inspired and lit like a flame within someone, and the earlier the better. That’s why this massive responsibility falls on the parents. Says Rav Hirsch, without the commandment of a proper connection between children and parents, there is no first tablet. The prejudice that Draco shows at such a young age, which is so scarily similar to his father’s, and the increasing bravery that Neville displays as the books go on, which is so amazingly reflecting of his parents is the perfect glimpse at the impacts parents have.  Sukot is the time to stress the impact that parents have on their children as well as the importance of conveying the Torah to the next generation with the same enthusiasm and passion that it was conveyed initially. The only way to do that is to build the same love and attachment that we want to pass on because the next generation will express with their actions what may have never left our minds. That’s what the etrog symbolizes; the taste of the fruit will almost inevitably be the taste of the tree.  

Harry Potter and the Path to Appreciation

                Those who have been righteous for their entire lives (tzadikim gmurim) don’t stand in the same place as those who turned to righteousness through repentance (ba’alei tshuva). This claim of the Talmud (Brachot 34b) seems strange and even counter intuitive. Looking at two people displaying exemplary behavior, I wouldn’t expect that what they did or who they were a year ago would make much of a difference. At this stage in life they seem to be in the same place- doing the same things. If anything the opposite seems logical. It would seem that the longer one could maintain his commitment the better. The longer one strives to act according to their beliefs and manages to overcome the temptations the better. Presumably they would be on a higher level if either, but the Talmud suggests that not only are they not equal, but there’s something that tzadik does not have, which the ba’al tshuva does. The claim isn’t that one is better than the other, just that the tzadik is missing something.

                There are two characters who, at one point or another, seriously doubted that they were supposed be in Gryffindor. One of whom didn’t believe that he possessed the most valued quality of Godrick Gryffindor, courage, and one of whom was worried that because he had to request that the sorting hat not put him in the house it wanted to that meant that he didn’t belong there as much as everyone else did. He was only there because the hat was nice enough to grant his wish. Harry and Neville expressed doubt in the sorting hat’s choice for them. It’s no coincidence that the only two people we know of who doubted that they were rightfully placed in Gryffindor are also the only people we know of who were able to pull Gryffindor’s sword from the sorting hat, which, as Dumbledore explains, only a true Gryffindor could do. Rowling draws a direct and clear correlation between doubt that you belong in a certain place and a true appreciation for what it means to be there. The key to understanding that correlation is in Dumbledore’s explanation to Harry not being placed in Slytherin at the end of the 2^nd book. He explains that choosing Gryffindor is the clearest expression that he belongs there and not the other way around. The significance is in choosing to do something when it’s not automatically understood.

All Ron knew was Gryffindor. I wouldn’t expect a well thought out answer from him if I asked why he wouldn’t want any of the other houses. His mother, Father, and all five brothers were Gryffindor. He didn’t decide what he wanted. Breaking from the pattern is the choice- not flowing with it. Black chose to break the pattern. Ron went with the flow. Because Harry had to choose Gryffindor, he understood why he chose it. Harry was told by the object whose one purpose in the world was to sort students into houses that he would do well in Slytherin, he had dreams where he was told to switch to Slytherin, and he went a year with the entire school thinking that he was the last remaining descendant of Slytherin himself! If Harry didn’t believe in what it meant to be a Gryffindor, he would have given in. He would have connected to what the hat, his thoughts, and his dreams were telling him. He would have connected to the house of his supposed ancestry. Harry chose to defy his inclination time and time again because he believed in Gryffindor. You can’t maintain your resolve that powerfully if it’s a resolve you don’t value or appreciate. Harry valued Gryffindor, and it was through the tests and through choosing again and again that he could understand that value better than anyone else.

Hermione probably never debated whether or not to express her opinion or stand up for what she believed in. That element of courage was always an integral part of her. Neville had been pushed around his entire life. Whether by his grandmother, his enemies, or even his friends, he was constantly stepped on. When Neville decided to stand up for himself to Malfoy he appreciated the significance of what he was doing more than Hermione ever could. Hermione never felt what it was like to be pushed over. When Neville stood up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he did so out of the incredible value he saw in defending what he believed in because he knows what it’s like not to be defended. He would never defy others for no reason; that’s not his personality, and it doesn’t come easy enough to him. Before you do something against your nature, you ask yourself 100 times if it’s right, do you believe in it, and why. Every act of courage he put forth was a choice for idealistic reasons. Every act of courage comes from his appreciation and admiration for courage and a choice to deploy it for those reasons. By the end of the series, both Harry and Neville stared Voldemort in the eyes and defied him. They were the only students to do so. They carried an unmatched appreciation for the courage that Gryffindor represented because they had to choose it.

There’s reason to continue doing something even if you don’t fully understand or appreciate it. It’s just what you’ve always done or it’s the only thing you know so there’s an inclination to continue. There’s no reason to change what you do for something you don’t understand or appreciate. A ba’al tshuva’s choice to lead a new lifestyle reflects an appreciation for Torah, religion, or God, which is so absolute that it caused them to change their lives. People don’t decide to accept hundreds of commandments for a weak reason. People don’t choose to give up their Saturday without thinking twice about why. Taking on new things against your inclination and against what is easy is never thoughtless. It’s accompanied with a sense of certainty and appreciation for every detail of what you do because you asked yourself 100 times why it was important before starting. It comes with an understanding that keeping Shabbat isn’t just what I do on Saturdays; it’s connecting to Hashem and his world by joining him in rest in appreciation of the amazing world he created in six days and his decision to reflect on its beauty on the seventh. It comes with an understanding that guarding Hashem’s Torah isn’t just a list of daily Do’s and Don’ts. It’s a way to turn every detail in life from thoughtless or insignificant into a significant and elevated way to live, connect, and relate to the world around you. The beauty of Torah being so complex and difficult is that it demands understanding it on a certain level before being able to follow. But someone who chooses every detail of the Torah one by one based on a connection to that detail and an understanding of it, carries an unmatched appreciation for details of the life they lead because they had to choose it.  

Harry Potter and the Sinai Ultimatum

                On Shavuot we celebrate receiving the Torah after a long journey that elevated us to a level of unprecedented spiritual heights. Accepting the Torah sounds like this glorious, surreal moment of closeness to Hashem, but that’s not at all how the Gemara (Shabbat 88a) makes it sound. The Torah says we gathered “in the bottom of the mountain,” as opposed to saying “opposite the mountain” as is written a few verses earlier. What’s the difference? Says the Gemara that we were literally underneath the mountain; Hashem held it over us and said accept the Torah or die. According to the Gemara we were forced to accept the Torah. Firstly, how can it be that in a stage of such purity and greatness we still needed to be forced?! Secondly, what about Na’aseh V’nishma (we will do and we will hear)? That statement has been regarded as one of the highlights of Jewish history. It was when we proclaimed our acceptance of God’s gift to us with so much trust in Him that we didn’t even ask what was in it first. That’s the version of the story I know and seemingly the version written in the Torah. What does the Gemara mean by saying that we were forced?

                When 13 people dine together the first to rise is the first to die. That’s one of the many strange theories we hear Trelawney ramble about in the series. She’s invited to join a meal with 12 other people in the third book but initially refuses on the grounds that by sitting she’d be sentencing someone to a premature death (given the fact that Dumbledore was at the table it was possibly a very premature death as he may have been around 100 years older than the youngest person there). What’s troubling is that with this in mind Trelawney still sits down after minor persuasion. Anyone who thinks that what she said is crazy wouldn’t be surprised, but it’s important to note that in hear head, she just traded a meal for a human life. What exactly was she thinking? Let’s take a deeper look at the life of Sybill Trelawney. There are three people who have ever heard her make a real prediction, and everyone else, including most of her esteemed colleagues, believe that she’s a complete fake. She has almost no knowledge of anything she’s ever said coming true. Since she clearly didn’t figure it out for herself, all of these theories and tricks that she knows about she either read in a book, or, being the great-great granddaughter of a world renowned seer, Cassandra Trelawney, she heard them by word of mouth. Her ancestor’s insights were passed down the generations through people who may not have had any clue what they were talking about until finally they reached our beloved divinations teacher.

The answer to why she sat down is pretty simple; she doesn’t actually believe most of the things that come out of her mouth, and she certainly doesn’t understand them as her great-great grandmother did. But I’d like to venture a guess. Cassandra Trelawney, who had real recognized talent in the area, and who may have even figured this idea out for herself, never would have sat down. It wouldn’t have even been a question for her. Anyone who understood that sitting at that meal would cause the death of whoever stands up first wouldn’t even think twice about sitting down.

Rav Eliyahu Dessler has an insight into our initial question. How could it be that the Jews needed to be forced to accept the Torah? He says that the idea that we were forced didn’t stem from our lack of desire to accept it. We were on such a level, one where we were ready to have Hashem revel himself to us, that the Torah was clear. We never had, nor before or after, such an enlightening experience as living the miraculous existence that we did leading up to Har Sinai. The words of God weren’t going to be these crazy ideas, which we don’t understand, that we either read in a book or had passed down from our great-great grandparents. The words of God were going to be no less than the clear truth of existence in our eyes. Like Cassandra Trelawney, who understood the cause and effect of her actions, we, with a clear understanding of the Torah had no choice but to follow it. What does it mean that we were forced? Anyone who understands on the deepest level, the severity of straying from the Torah, and what it does to us and the world around us, has no choice but to follow it. There isn’t even a second thought at that point. We understood the truth and understood that nothing could be worth the result of abandoning the Torah’s teachings. The same Gemara goes on to say that they Jews accepted the torah voluntarily during the Purim story. I’m pretty sure that many people chose to accept the Torah in the 700 years between the two events. Before Purim we were in a world of miracles and a clear perception of God. Purim, which is acknowledged as the Holiday of Hashem’s presence being hidden- He’s not even mentioned in the Megilla, was the first time, that we could truly accept the Torah by choice. Things weren’t clear anymore. The importance of keeping the Torah was hidden, and there was no recognition that turning away from the Torah had some severe instantaneous effect. In a world of doubt and questions if we still choose the Torah, it was clearly by choice.

If the difference between guarding these crazy or strange traditions instinctively or struggling and failing to do so is an understanding of them, then we need to work our way back. The struggles and frustrations that we have in our pursuit of truth boils down to a lack of understanding. For a nation with nothing but understanding it was simple. What would have happened if Trelawney believed in what she said? What could have happened if she understood and even tried to convince others that these strange ideas were true? Well firstly we need to set one thing straight. They are. In the sixth book Harry sees Trelawney as she’s looking through a deck of cards. She mutters to herself, “Knave of spades: a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the questioner —” Right before this happened Harry left his friends with the question of who the prince is (The Half-blood Prince). A knave in the royal family is a prince, which makes for an interesting juxtaposition. And the chapter The Prince’s tale may be able to help us with what was happening simultaneously- as we know that after hearing Trelawney Harry continues to Dumbledore’s office, and Dumbledore tells him that he had just spoken with Snape.

“They were back in Dumbledore’s office, the windows dark, and Fawkes sat silent as Snape sat quite still, as Dumbledore walked around him, talking.

“Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry.”

“Tell him what?”

“We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,” said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut.”

“You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment? I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter—”

Here we see a dark young man take the form of Snape. He’s quite troubled with hearing that his efforts to keep Harry alive have all been so that he’d die at the right time. And he’s growing increasingly angry with Dumbledore who is asking of him a little too much. The knave, or prince, is Snape.

                When thirteen people dine together the first to rise is the first to die. In the fifth book, Harry sits down to a meal with twelve other people in Grimmuld place (Arther, Molly, Bill, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Black, Lupin, tonks, and Mundungus). In a heated debate between Molly and Sirius, “Sirius started to rise from his chair.” If Trelawney believed that what she said was true and tried convince others rather than doing exactly what she just instructed everyone against, maybe she could have saved Sirius’s life. It would have been miles away, two years later, and she never would have known, but if she built an understanding and lived what she believed in, she could have affected lives in ways she couldn’t have even imagined. So what happened in the third? No one died. You could say that Harry and Ron stood up at the same time, as they say when Trelawney asks them, but someone had to be first. Fortunately, Pettigrew was in Ron’s pocket; there were 14 people dining together.

                Who would realize the truth behind these crazy ideas the first time they read them? Not many. But when we commit ourselves to learning something until we reach an understanding, some of these crazy ideas start to make sense. We won’t always see their direct impact, and living our lives in accordance with the tradition passed down to us for generations and the traditions found in the Torah, we, like Trelawney, may never know the impact it would make. However, if we worked to reach a level of understanding that we, as a nation, used to have, we’d see the importance with such clarity. Hopefully we can use Shavuot and the learning opportunities it presents to celebrate receiving the Torah with the same clarity that the Jews at Sinai had.  

 

 

 

Harry Potter and the Process of Redemption

             In addition to our daily obligation, on Pesach, we are not only obligated to remember the exodus from Egypt but to actually see ourselves as if we personally left. We fulfill this commandment by reenacting and reciting many experiences that the Jewish people went through in their departure. Perhaps the most important of the practices is the recitation of three central Pesach related items, Pesach, Matzah, and marror (biter herb), as well as what they symbolize. The Pesach is in commemoration of Hashem passing over the Jewish houses when He plagued the Egyptians. Our symbol for this commemoration is a shank bone because of the Pesach sacrifice brought that night and every year afterward. The Matzah is in commemoration of how the Jews hurried to leave Egypt and didn’t have time to let their bread rise. The Marror is in commemoration of the embittered lives the Jews lead as slaves. Raban Gamliel goes as far as to say that one who does not perform this recitation has not fulfilled his obligation of reliving the exodus, and the Rambam brings his statement in his list of the laws on Pesach. However, the Nodeh B’yehuda points out a glaring question. These three items represent the three stages of our redemption. The Pesach sacrifice was our long awaited freedom to serve and bring offerings to Hashem as we had not been able to for over 200 years. The Matzah was a transition period as we were rushing from slavery to freedom. Lastly, the Marror was our bitter lives before freedom was even in sight. Asks the Nodeh B’yehuda, if these three items are the most crucial part of seeing ourselves leaving Egypt- as if we’d really gone from slavery to freedom, why do we recite them in reverse?! How is the most crucial part of actualizing the process of going from an embittered life to serving Hashem freely performed by starting with freedom and bringing ourselves back into the bitter slavery?

                Let’s start with a simple question; why was it so much more difficult for Ron to say the name Voldemort than for Harry? Clearly there’s a big difference in their relation to Voldemort. Ron grew up in a house that knew the terrors of Voldemort. His parents and two of his older siblings were old enough to remember what his first rise to power was like. The name Voldemort was associated with nothing but terrifying tragedy, and it was therefore ingrained within Ron, from a very young age, that the name was not to be spoken. Harry on the other hand didn’t grow up in the same fearful environment. The first time he could remember hearing the name was when he was eleven, which is nearly too late to really engrain such a fear within him. He didn’t understand what Voldemort meant. He didn’t understand the extent of what Voldemort did. He didn’t grow up with it. Additionally, within a year of hearing Voldemort’s name for the first time he was told by Dumbledore to keep saying his name. Harry didn’t have the slave-to-Voldemort mindset that Ron grew up with. He grew up free from Voldemort’s oppression and, to his knowledge, free from Voldemort’s impact. When it came to saying his name, Harry couldn’t understand what was so terrible; it was just a name. He couldn’t understand what it meant to those who grew up with it.

                The question then becomes Hermione. She too grew up in a Muggle house to parents who had never heard the name. She wasn’t instilled with fear from a young age; she didn’t even know who Voldemort was until shortly before she started Hogwarts- just like Harry. Why then was it so much harder for her to say Voldemort’s name than for Harry? Throughout the fifth book she forces herself to become numb to using his name, but what was her difficulty in the first place? She was born free from fear. The reason needs to be attributed to a big difference between Harry and Hermione. Hermione learned everything she possible could have about Voldemort. She read the stories, the reports, and knew every detail of what happened. She came as close as she could have to re-living his reign of terror before she even started school. Then, in school, when her interactions with Voldemort’s victims increased, and she saw firsthand what he had done, her understanding only grew. Through learning, interacting, and even seeing firsthand how Voldemort impacted the Wizarding world, Hermione, despite being born free from the fear, where it’s so hard to relate to what it must have been like eleven years prior, she naturally developed the same mindset.

                This understanding helps explain the Nodeh B’yehuda’s answer. We were born free from Paroh’s rule. The terror he instilled is nearly unfathomable for those who didn’t grow up with it. The bitterness of slavery isn’t relatable for those born into freedom. If we want to fulfill our obligation of experiencing going from slavery to freedom, and we plan on jumping straight into the bitterness of the slavery mindset, we don’t have a chance of performing the mitzvah properly. What do we know?! We were born too far from the oppressed mentality to even fathom what it was like. That’s why we start from our freedom, the Pesach sacrifice; we need to start with what we know. If we learn enough about Paroh, about Egypt, and about the Jews’ embittered lives, as the last page of tractate Megillah instructs us to do 30 days before the holiday, perhaps, as Hermione did, we can start to understand. Perhaps we’ll start to understand what the Jews felt transitioning from slavery to freedom. If we pick it up a notch on Pesach, not just learning about the slavery, but experiencing firsthand some of their struggles, perhaps, as Hermione did, we can continue to understand. Perhaps we can understand the Jews’ mindset of being enslaved. Only then can we properly visualize ourselves as if we had left Egypt.  

It’s important to recognize the difference between Ron’s experience and Hermione’s. Ron, having been born into the fear, couldn’t break away from it when fear was the last thing they needed more of. His mentality was detrimental. Similarly, when the Jews left Egypt, they had seen one of the biggest display of miracles in history, but as soon as the Egyptians chased after them, they were ready to return to their previous masters- deserting Hashem’s plan for them. The Ibn Ezra famously answers that they were stuck in a slave mentality. The mentality was detrimental to their service of Hashem. Hermione, on the other hand, only benefitted from learning about Voldemort. It helped to know his past both for the sake of knowledge of the past and for the sake of properly understanding the present built from it. And when this mindset that she took on became a problem, she was able to break away from it. As Jews, understanding where we came from is both valuable in the sense that we are commanded to study our past and in the sense that it’s essential for understanding our present. Pesach is a time when we can look back to how we became a nation. We learn so much from the redemption process. Whether it’s sensitivity to those less fortunate because we were once in the same position or unity as a nation that came from common suffering, being saved, and being given the greatest gift of all time at Har Sinai (Mount Sinai) when our unity reached its climax. We were described as like one person with one heart. Perhaps sensitivity to others and national unity are needed more desperately now than ever. We need to use this Pesach to put ourselves back into that mindset so we can come to appreciate, yet again, where we came from and what kind of nation that makes us into. And by doing so gradually, we can develop that mindset but in a way that is easily broken when we need to return to thinking ahead, about the future of the Jewish people, and not get stuck in that mentality to let it hinder our service of Hashem as the slave mentality once did.

Voldemort Min Hatorah Minayin (Where is Voldemort found in the Torah?)

                The Gemara (Chullin 139a) asks an interesting question; where is Haman seen in the Torah? The answer it gives is in Bereishit when Hashem asks Adam if he ate from the tree that he was instructed not to eat from. Hashem says, “Hamin Ha’eitz hazeh;” is it from this tree? The Hebrew word for “is it from,” hamin, is spelled hey-mem-nun, which is the same as the Hebrew spelling of Haman. The issue is that multiple times throughout the Torah the same three letters are found in reference to the food that the Jews ate in the desert, which was called man. When spelled with a hey in the beginning of the word, which is the prefix for “the,” it’s made up of the same three letters. Why then does the Gemara single out Hashem’s question in Bereishit? The answer can be found through a close reading of both the fourth and seventh book in the Harry Potter series. We find Harry toward the end of the seventh book ready to sacrifice his life in order to kill the horcrux within him and bring Voldemort closer to mortality. However, when he’s hit by Voldemort’s killing curse something happened that no one, but Dumbledore of course, could have expected. Harry didn’t die. The question is why not. Contrary to popular belief, Harry being a horcrux had nothing to do with it. The answer is actually explicitly stated in the chapter King’s Cross.

                “But if Voldemort used the Killing Curse,” Harry started again “and nobody died for me this time—how can I be alive?”

“I think you know,” said Dumbledore. “Think back. Remember what he did, in his ignorance, in his greed and his cruelty.”

 “He took my blood.” said Harry.

“Precisely!” said Dumbledore. “He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily’s protection inside both of you!

He tethered you to life while he lives!”

“He took your blood believing it would strengthen him. He took into his body a tiny part of the enchantment your mother laid upon you when she died for you. His body keeps her sacrifice alive, and while that enchantment survives, so do you.”

                Harry didn’t die because Voldemort taking his blood meant that Harry couldn’t die while Voldemort was alive. Voldemort seemed invincible. He was in control of the ministry, Hogwarts, nearly all of England, and the only one he ever feared was no longer there to stop him. But then he lost everything, and the most frustrating part for him must be how easily avoidable his failure was. Rewinding to the beginning of the fourth we see one of the most important conversations in the series. A conversation that, had it gone differently, could have assured Voldemort’s eternal domination.

                Wormtail told Voldemort in the beginning of the fourth, “It could be done without Harry Potter, My Lord.”

“Without Harry Potter?” breathed the second voice softly. “I see…”

Wormtail responded, “If we were to use another witch or wizard — any wizard — the thing could be done so much more quickly!”

However, despite Wormtail’s best efforts, he could not convince Voldemort to change his mind. Voldemort responded to him resoundingly, “I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other.” With that his fate was sealed. Voldemort could have so easily used anyone else’s blood to come back as Wormtail mentioned, but he refused. He had reasons to use Harry, and because he wouldn’t give those reasons up he took Harry’s blood, which, as Dumbledore explained, tied Harry to life as long as Voldemort lived. Voldemort had almost no chance of defeating him. As a side note, when Harry told Dumbledore in the end of the fourth that Voldemort had taken his blood and it was subsequently written, “For a fleeting instant, Harry thought he saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore’s eyes.” That was the gleam of triumph. Upon hearing that Voldemort took Harry’s blood he knew that Voldemort couldn’t kill him.

                So what were Voldemort’s reasons for using only Harry that were so important that he refused to use someone else? The protection in Harry’s blood prevented Voldemort from making contact with him. It wasn’t enough for Voldemort to come back through someone else and then kill Harry; He couldn’t stand that Harry had anything over him- not even protected blood. Additionally, it’s possible that Voldemort understood that without Harry’s blood, he’d meet the same problem trying to kill him as he had the last time. That could have been solved by asking anyone else to kill Harry for him, since Lily’s protection was only from Voldemort himself, but it wasn’t good enough to be one of the most powerful people in the entire word; he needed to have everything over Harry. Perhaps that would rectify the humiliation he suffered at Harry’s hands years prior. Because of his arrogance he tried to eliminate the weakness that he had to Harry’s protection, but in the process he created an enemy that he couldn’t kill. Because of his greed he found himself on the losing end of a duel against Harry, and like that he went from the top of the top to being killed in front of his former subjects. Haman was thinking along the same lines.

Haman was the second in command over 127 nations. He was worshipped by his people, respected by the kingdom, and had more money than he could ever hope to spend. The Gemara (Megillah 15a) says that despite having everything he could have ever wanted, when he saw Mordechai at the king’s gate he thought to himself that nothing he had was worth it. Rashi tells us that Haman sold himself to Mordechai for food years prior when he was poor and had nothing to eat. He was humiliated by seeing his former master, and it wasn’t good enough to be one of the most powerful people in the entire world; he needed to have everything over Mordechai. Perhaps that would rectify the humiliation he suffered at Mordechai’s hands years prior. Because of his greed he tried to wipe Mordechai and all of his people out, Ester exposed him for what he truly was in front of Achashveirosh, and like that he went from the top of the top to being hanged on a gallows in front of his former subjects.

                Haman, who was hanged on the gallows that he intended for Mordechai, and Voldemort, who was killed by the Avada Kedavra that he intended for Harry have one fatal flaw in common. They could have had everything in the world, but the one thing they’d be missing was too much to bear, and they lost everything because of their pursuit. That being said, why would Hashem need to ask Adam if he ate from the tree of knowledge; He obviously knew already? It makes sense that what Hashem said wasn’t a question but an exclamation. Is it from this tree that you ate?! The only tree in the entire garden that I said was off limits! Adam, I gave you everything in the world! You didn’t work, I gave you food, I gave you a wife, you had everything anyone could have asked for but the fruit of one tree, and you couldn’t stand there being one thing in the world that you don’t have! Now you’re going to lose everything. The Gemara wasn’t just asking where the letters of Haman’s name appeared. It was asking where the ideology of Haman was. The idea that you could have everything in the world and lose it because of one small thing you’re missing is the Haman ideology, and it’s the Voldemort ideology. That’s found in Beireishit when Adam was living in paradise and lost it all for the one fruit he couldn’t eat.