LOANS
Many Jewish communities have dedicated this week to the Mitzvah of Gemilus Chassadim, acts of loving kindness, referring, specifically, to making interest free loans to those in need, which appears in this week’s parsha.
The Torah presents this law in the following words:
When you lend money to My people, to the poor person who is with you, do not act toward him as a creditor…
The simple meaning of this law is that when we make a loan to a poor person we should not pressure him to repay it.
Every law that applies to us in the physical sense can also be understood in a spiritual and allegorical manner. To discover the underlying spiritual dimension of this command we must retranslate several of the words in this verse.
AN EXERCISE IN [RE]TRANSLATION
The Hebrew word for money in this verse is kesef, which can also be translated as desire or passion.
The word for lending talveh can also be rendered “[you will be] attached.”
The word “poor” can also be understood as a metaphor for Moshiach; the description given to him in the Biblical book of Zechariah (9:9).
DON’T DEMAND OF MOSHIACH?!
In light of all these revised allegorical translations, let us now retranslate the entire verse:
When you have a desire to attach yourself to Moshiach that he should be with you, do not act toward him as a creditor.
This can be understood to mean that when we wait and yearn for Moshiach, we ought not demand of him that he reveal himself, because he is not the impediment. Moshiach wants to be revealed and liberate us from exile more than we could ever desire. If he has not done so yet, it is not for a lack of desire on his part. It is either G-d or us who have placed an impediment before his coming.
The Talmud (Sanhedrin 98a) relates the story of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi who asked Elijah the prophet how he could identify Moshiach. He told him he was sitting among the sickly paupers at the entrance of Rome. He stands out because these paupers untie all their bandages at once, cleanse all their sores, and then rebandage them all, whereas Moshiach unties and replaces each of his bandages separately, so that when the time comes to reveal himself, he will not be delayed by having to bandage many sores.
Moshiach is often described as one who suffers pain for every moment he cannot redeem his people. Moshiach, we are told, pines for the opportunity to redeem us much more than we could even want to be redeemed. So to demand of Moshiach, as if he owes us something and that, G-d forbid, he is withholding his coming from us, is out of place.
To translate the verse more specifically, it can yield the following retranslation and reinterpretation:
When you have a desire to attach yourself to Moshiach, realize that he is with you. He wants to be revealed no less than you. So, do not act toward him as a creditor and demand of him as if it is his fault that he was not given the signal from on High to reveal himself and redeem us. Don’t assume that he owes us something; on the contrary, we owe him.
DEMAND OF G-D AND YOURSELF!
So, if we shouldn’t demand of Moshiach to come, from whom should we demand the ultimate Redemption?
There is a twofold answer:
First, the demand must be made of G-d Himself! Indeed, this demand we make of G-d thrice daily during the Amida prayer when we, respectfully, demand the Redemption of Him. We demand of Him to bring us Moshiach and rebuild the Beis HaMikdash. Indeed, Moshiach himself says these same prayers with the most heartfelt devotion.
Moreover, Nachmanides writes that Moshiach suffers anguish over the fact that we do not weep and pray over the withholding of the Redemption. In his words, “we do not take it to heart, but go about our affairs among the nations.”
So instead of demanding of Moshiach, we should direct our prayers to G-d.
If one thinks that demanding something of G-d is irreverent or sacrilegious, we should quote a powerful Midrashic narrative (Midrash T’hillim 17), which establishes the reason we make these demands of G-d:
“Those thousands who fell in battle in the days of King David perished only because they did not request the building of the Beis HaMikdash.”
One way of explaining this Midrash is that the thousands that perished was not a punishment for them. Rather, it is to be understood that if they had demanded the building of the Beis HaMikdash it would have inaugurated the Messianic Age and there would not be any more wars and war casualties.
Furthermore, the Lithuanian Sage known as the Chafetz Chaim (in his commentary on the Siddur) writes:
Several times a day we ask for Redemption, but asking alone is not enough. We must demand Redemption, just as a worker demands his salary, because if he does not “his employer is not obligated to pay him that day.”
The second answer to the question, as to whom should we be making demands of concerning the Redemption, is: We should be directing the demands to ourselves. We must demand of ourselves the strengthening of our desire for Moshiach and for personal redemption.
The Chassidic work Me’or Einayim cites the teaching of the Baal Shem Tov that each of us possesses a spark of Moshiach. However, this spark is latent and needs for us to expose and liberate it. We must therefore make demands of ourselves and do everything in our power to reveal and activate that spark. That will certainly contribute to the revelation of the general Moshiach and bring about the full Redemption.
WHO CAN FORGET?!
Another nuance can be detected in the above verse. The Hebrew word for creditor, nosheh, also connotes the idea of forgetfulness, as in the name Menasheh which Joseph gave his firstborn because he said, “G-d made me forget [nashani] my travail…”
In light of this new translation of the word nosheh-forgetfulness, let us now retranslate the verse:
When you desire to be attached to Moshiach so that he is with you, don’t allow yourself to forget him.
We forget the things that are not important and which therefore have only superficial value to us. Moshiach cannot be forgotten for a moment because he, and the Redemption he will usher in, is so central to our lives. Every aspect of our lives will be affected positively in the Messianic Age just as every aspect of our lives is affected adversely in exile. The difference between a living person and a dead one is not just related to one organ but it involves one’s entire body. Similarly, Moshiach, who, according to the Sephardic commentator known as the Or HaChayim, is identified with the name Chaim-life, will affect every fiber of our being. There is not one aspect or dimension of our lives that does not yearn for true life; the life that is associated with Moshiach and Redemption!
We must understand then, if this is so, how is it possible for us to forget such a central part of our existence? How could it be that we can go a day, week or even a month and not focus on the words that we recite thrice daily in our prayers: “We await your salvation the entire day?”
ARE WE RIDING ON OUR DONKEYS?
The answer lies in the description of Moshiach as a poor man, which, as stated, is based on the verse in the prophetic book Zechariah. There it states: “a lowly/poor man riding on a donkey.” The Hebrew word for donkey is chamor, which also means materialism. Part of Moshiach’s “resume” is that he is tasked with controlling our animalistic and materialistic pursuits just as he exercises that control over his own.
The reason we do not think of Moshiach consistently and persistently is because we have yet to partner with him in “riding on our donkey,” our materialistic tendencies. Forgetfulness, the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya (Chapter 37), comes from the strengthening of our animal souls.
Thus, the verse exhorts us to not forget by working together with the poor man-Moshiach in controlling the animal within us so that we can elicit and reveal the spark of Moshiach.
RIDING ON A CLOUD
There is another salient point concerning the association of Moshiach with a poor man:
In the above allegorical interpretation of the verse concerning lending money to the poor, Moshiach is characterized as a poor person. There is, however, a radically different depiction of Moshiach, in the book of Daniel (7:13), as majestically riding on a cloud. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 98a) ascribes these two scenarios of Moshiach—either a poor or a majestic man—to two circumstances of his arrival. If he arrives and we are not worthy he will come as a poor man on a donkey. However, if we merit his coming because we have refined ourselves, he will come in a majestic fashion.
Let us now, retranslate the above verse yet a fourth way:
When you have a desire to attach yourself to Moshiach [who is tragically] “poor,” [it is because] he is with you [because you have not refined yourselves and you remain spiritually impoverished, he is therefore “poor” like you.] Do not [therefore] act toward him as a creditor. Do not demand of him to change; demand it of yourself!
When we demand of ourselves to stop living an impoverished life but the life of a spiritual magnate we will be able to easily demand the Redemption of G-d because we will have experienced personal Redemption.