Tag: Yeshiva of Greater Washington

By Rabbi Ahron Lopiansky
Rosh Yeshiva, Yeshiva of Greater Washington–Tiferes Gedaliah

I. Concealment

And the earth was empty and without form, with darkness covering the abyss.

Bereishis 1:2

The story of Creation begins with a prelude — the enumeration of four states of imperfection that were present in the universe at the moment of Creation: tohu (empty), vohu (without form), choshech (darkness), and tehom (abyss).

The Maharal (Ner Mitzvah) explains that these four states of imperfection are not incidental deficiencies that merely happened to become manifest at the time of Creation. Rather, they are intrinsic to the process of creation itself. Every created being, explains the Maharal, is by its nature limited and imperfect. Only the Creator is perfect, boundless, and limitless. These four “imperfections,” then, are not limited in time to the dawn of creation, nor to the four states mentioned above. Rather, they constitute the antecedents of every evil and fault in all of its dimensions — personal, national, and historical — that manifest themselves during the entire duration of the created world.

The Midrash Rabbah demonstrates how these four flaws have made their appearances throughout history, most prominently under the dominion of the four kingdoms that dominated world history — as revealed to Daniel in a dream — leaving their impact upon mankind for generations to come. These are the empires of Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Rome. Each empire was a national and cultural embodiment of one of these four dimensions of evil: tohu denotes Babylon, described in sefarim as the embodiment of self-deification and egoism; vohu signifies the unrestrained hedonism of Persia; choshech represents the so-called intellectual enlightenment of Greece; and tehom, the seemingly interminable wicked domination of Rome.

Upon closer examination of the midrash’s pairing together of symbol and nation, we notice a subtle difference between the characterization of Greece as darkness and the dimensions of evil attributed to the other empires. The other evil traits can be considered as resulting from a lack of perfection and godliness, the shortcomings of an incomplete and as yet unformed world; darkness, by contrast, is different. It is a “positive” dimension — an object of creation — purposefully introduced into the universe. Rashi (Pesachim 2a) also makes this point clear. He explains darkness, not as an absence of light, but as a positive force that “darkens” the world, so to speak. Indeed, a pasuk in Yeshayah (45:7) declares God to be “yotzer or u’vorei choshech” (He who forms light and creates darkness). Darkness was indeed created.

If this distinction between darkness and the other flaws of creation exists on the metaphysical plane, it must also be evident in its human and national manifestation: Greece as compared to the other powers. How does one understand the cultural essence of Greece as a positive yet destructive force? What distinguishes Greece’s trait of wisdom or philosophy from the identifying traits of Rome, Persia, and Babylon?

Perhaps one can begin by noting how Greece’s national character, i.e., Greek philosophy or wisdom, relates to Israel. While idolatry, hedonism, and imperialism are totally alien to the Jewish national character, wisdom is an attribute shared by the Jewish nation. True, our wisdom, Torah wisdom, is on a plane of its own (as in Devarim 4:6: “For it is your wisdom and understanding in the eyes of the nations”); theirs, by contrast, is a superficial or external wisdom. The common denominator of wisdom, however, is unmistakable. No such common ground is shared by Israel and the other kingdoms in regard to their traits of idolatry, hedonism, or subjugation of others.

Chazal point out the relationship between Greece and Israel in the pasuk, “God shall endow Yefes with beauty, and he will dwell in the tents of Shem…” (Bereishis 9:27). The beauty of Yefes will find its place in the tents of Shem. In the historical sense, this was realized in the translation of sacred texts into Greek (the Septuagint), the incorporation of elements of the Greek language into the Oral Law, and the use of Greek philosophy by many rishonim (such as the Rambam) to explain and illustrate many concepts of Torah. No such relationship was established with any other empire or culture.

Yet, despite this seeming affinity, Greece is the only empire that Israel succeeded in fighting and overpowering. Babylon disintegrated on its own. Israel avoided the Persian decree of total annihilation. And our attempt to rid ourselves of Roman domination failed. It was only the rule of Greece that we challenged and were able to vanquish. What, then, is the essence of this Hellenism, so tantalizingly similar in character to Israel, yet so apparently opposed to everything Israel represents? What is the Grecian beauty that can adorn the tents of Israel? What is its sinister darkness, which will be overcome by the light of Mashiach?

II. Dawn of Darkness

A day that is neither day nor night.

Passover Haggadah, based on Zechariah 14:7

A human being perceives the world around him through his senses, each of which conveys a different type of information. The clearest and most vivid sense is that of sight, for while other senses provide limited data, vision gives one the feeling of total perception and cognizance. Thus, “seeing is believing.” Other senses give the feeling of knowing about the object in question; sight focuses on the object itself.

It is this concept of light and vision that we must bear in mind when discussing the light and darkness of Creation. Were Creation fully illuminated and were we to actually perceive the Omnipresent and Omniscient Deity, there would be no room for self-perception as independent beings: “כי לא יראני האדם וחי — For man cannot see Me and live” (Shemos 33:20). The only feasible way for humanity to retain a semblance of independent existence, with the possibility of free will and constructive potential, is with the introduction of a veil of darkness, which effectively conceals the Divine radiance.

What is this “darkness”? Where do we encounter it? It is what is commonly referred to as nature — the laws, concepts, and formulae that dictate and run the universe. Within this framework, the Divine Being is neither visible nor apparent; rather, it is the natural order of events that seems to bring sensibility to our examinations of the universe. Cause and effect replace Divine will.

Greece plunged headlong into this darkness. It is wisdom, indeed, but a wisdom of the external world, divorced from the essence of Creation and denied of its association with the Divine. Taken as such, the darkness becomes an end unto itself; or worse yet, it is mistaken for light. As it says: “Woe to those who define darkness as light and light as darkness” (Yeshayah 5:20).

Israel, on the other hand, examines this same darkness and uses it as a means of discovering the very light it is meant to conceal. When one carefully examines a veiled countenance, one can obtain some idea of the existence of a force or substance behind the veil. As the Zohar (parashas Emor) states: Even the person not informed of the secrets of the Divine may discern them by carefully studying the external universe and extrapolating to the internal universe. The complexity of nature, human drives and psychic composition, the patterns of history — these can all lead man to a glimpse of what lies beyond the obvious, to a bit of an inkling as to how hashgachah (Providence) conducts the affairs of the world. Even the Torah, which is the direct word of Hashem, is clothed in the fabric of nature: it discusses topics such as oxen goring one another and marriage and divorce. Yet these mundane concerns express cosmic truths and convey deeper spiritual concepts.

Darkness, then, serves as a metaphor for the concealment of the Divine in the universe. In addition, several specific incidents recorded in the Torah refer to darkness in its literal sense as masking Divine revelations:

• At Sinai, the mountain was enveloped in three increasingly dense layers of cloud. In order to receive the luchos, the Tablets of the Law, Moshe was required to step into the “thickest and densest” layer of the three (Shemos 19:9, Rashi).
• Aaron’s children, Nadav and Avihu, were guilty of gross conduct at Sinai described as, “ויחזו את האלקים ויאכלו וישתו — They gazed at God, and they ate and drank” (Shemos 24:11), meaning they feasted their eyes, so to speak, on the glory of God. Their punishment was death. Aaron was consequently commanded to bring incense into the Holy of Holies before entering that area on Yom Kippur. The incense would burn and form a cloud so clear perception would no longer be possible; rather, “In a cloud will I appear on the Ark” (VaYikra 15:2, Yalkut Shim’oni).
• When Moshe Rabbeinu was ensconced in the nikras hatzur (the crevice of the rock), God covered the entrance to Moshe’s cave so he would not be blinded by the Divine radiance (Shemos 33:22).

Darkness represents the mechanism of nature designed to conceal and disguise the Creator, Who is continuously directing and conducting the affairs of the universe. Yet every Jew can utilize this very system as a means of achieving personal growth by gaining a more profound understanding of God. This, then, is the natural progression of learning to detect God within creation. Initially all is seen as impenetrable darkness; only later does the light of day become apparent through this darkness.

III. Contrast

The elementary understanding of the concept of darkness is that it is like a cloak, concealing the Divine presence and radiance to allow man free choice and a meaningful existence as an independent being. But the full meaning of this concept is far deeper. Darkness is actually a prime element of sight, as we will demonstrate. It is in this context that we understand the concept of beauty as it expresses itself in Greece. Not only does darkness suggest a dimming of the Divine illumination, it simultaneously makes us aware of the illumination.

Aside from providing a background for observation, darkness is an integral element of sight, for the eye distinguishes shapes through the medium of contrast. An area that is monoluminous and monochromatic contains no visual information. We are able to see a picture by discerning between lighter and darker areas and different shades of color. Thus, “sight” is the perception of the contrast between light and darkness. Eliminate darkness, and light becomes as meaningless as well!

The Ramchal, in Da’as Tevunos (sec. 34), uses a similar concept to explain that our understanding of God refers solely to the attribute of unity. Why is this so? Because no other attribute can be understood or defined by negating its opposite. For example, lack of stupidity does not imply intelligence, lack of weakness does not define strength, nor does “not ugly” describe beauty. Achdus (oneness), however, can be defined as “not multi-.” True, we may not perceive God’s unity in its essence, but we can sketch its parameters (for the person who believes in Divine forces) by negating polytheism. Having defined the set “not A,” we have adequately defined “A.”

This gives us a new insight into the pasuk: “And God saw the light that it was good, and He divided between the light and darkness” (Bereishis 1:4). Since light and observation are good, one needs the distinctive focus and contrast of light from darkness for them to be fully appreciated. A totally gray picture is meaningless. On the other hand, when the lights and darks contrast sharply, we have a picture with high resolution.

Beauty, too, is the relationship and interplay between two or more elements, but it is far more complex. “Strong,” “smart,” “good” are all definable in terms of one unit. Beauty, on the other hand, represents an interplay between various different elements. When two or more elements are in harmony, symmetry, contrast, or balance, we have the components of beauty.

The Sefas Emes uses this concept to explain the mishnah, “One hour of repentance and good deeds in this world is more beautiful than all of the World to Come.” (Avos 4:22). He asks: “Is the next world not far more perfect than this world in its highest form?” He answers: “Better, yes. More beautiful, no.” For beauty in this context refers to the contrast between the person’s yeitzer hara (evil inclination) and nisyonos (tests for the purpose of prompting the individual to rise above the evil inclination), on one hand, and his actual raising himself above the challenge through teshuvah and mitzvos on the other. The beauty of this interplay, says the Sefas Emes, is without counterpart in the World to Come, where pure truth reigns and there is no room for doubts and struggles.

This idea of beauty as interplay and contrast may also explain the gemara, “Poverty becomes Israel as a scarlet strap to a white horse” (Chagigah 9b). Poverty (red) is an obstacle to Israel’s task, but when Israel succeeds in raising itself spiritually (white), in spite of its difficulties, a thing of beauty has been created, as startling as the contrast between red and white.

The lights of the menorah in the Beis HaMikdash and those of Chanukah are both lit at night. The reason is not utilitarian, for one is not permitted to benefit from the lights of Chanukah nor from those of the Temple. The reason for nighttime kindling, then, is that one perceives the light best at night. It is in this perspective that Israel and Greece relate to each other. When the lines are clearly drawn and the contrast is sharp, not only does Israel appear in its fullest beauty and radiance, but Greece, too, finds its place in adorning the batei midrash shel Shem. However, when the boundaries are unclear and the distinctions blurred; when the havdalah between “sacred and profane, light and dark, Israel and the nations” is unclear; not only does Israel’s light dim, but Greece’s beauty turns a colorless and amorphous gray. Conversely, only when the havdalah light distinguishes between “sacred and profane, light and dark, Israel and the nations” does the beauty of Yefes burst forth in the tents of Shem.

About Rabbi Ahron Lopiansky

Rabbi Ahron Lopiansky is the distinguished Rosh HaYeshiva of the Yeshiva of Greater Washington–Tiferes Gedaliah, where for more than three decades he has shaped generations of talmidim through the depth of his Torah, clarity of thought, and devotion to the mesorah of his rebbeim.

A musmach of the Mir Yeshiva in Yerushalayim, Rav Lopiansky was privileged to learn under the towering guidance of Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz zt”l and Rav Nachum Partzovitz zt”l. He later taught at Aish HaTorah and at the Mir before assuming the leadership of the Yeshiva Gedolah in Washington in 1994.

Widely regarded as one of the leading contemporary voices in Torah thought and hashkafah, Rav Lopiansky is the author of more than thirty works spanning machshavah, tefillah, and Jewish philosophy. His scholarship has also contributed to Encyclopedia Talmudis, Klal Perspectives, and Dialogue, while his shiurim and addresses have inspired audiences across the United States and around the world.