The episode of the Tree of Knowledge is the first and last episode in the Torah to encompass the whole world and all of humanity. All of humanity – because Adam and Eve together comprised the entire human population. The situation before the sin, the plight after the sin, the motivation for the sin itself and the logic underlying the edict of banishment following the episode of the tree of knowledge – all of these require continual scrutiny.

The Rambam, at the beginning of his “Guide for the Perplexed”, asks the following question: If after the sin, they were “as gods, knowing good and evil”, what was their status before? We will return to this question and its significance a little later. Right now I want to explore one of the central topics which relates to a number of questions, and from there we will arrive at our opening theme.

The Tree of Knowledge – is there something special about this specific tree – “the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil” – that the Torah wants us to know? We know that it was forbidden to eat from the tree. G-d decreed that: “Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, you shall surely not eat”. Is there something about the tree itself that the Torah can teach us, with relevance to our daily lives, outside of the Garden of Eden, on the other side of the “flaming sword turning upon itself”? Is there a connection between Adam’s punishment – exile from the Garden of Eden – and his act of eating? And, most important of all, if Adam and Eve were on such a high spiritual level before the sin, what caused them to transgress? What tempted them? Obviously the serpent – but how? Why was it so hard for them to withstand temptation?

I would like to remind you of a famous Midrash – “Tadshe”, by R. Pinchas Ben Yair. It is interesting to note that this same R. Pinchas is quoted at the beginning of “Mesilat Yesharim” as saying that the Torah leads us to caution, caution leads us to swiftness, and swiftness leads us to cleanliness. It is he who determined this progression, the path on which the entire ethical system rests. I think that this Midrash is based on the same foundation:

R. Pinchas Ben Yair said: Until Adam ate from this tree, it was known simply as “tree” like all the other trees. However, once he ate from it, thus transgressing the edict of G-d, it was called “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil”, because of its ultimate status. We have found many things which are likewise called by their final status. How do we know that the tree was not so called from the beginning? From the woman’s reply to the serpent. She said to him: “Of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God has said, You shall not eat of it.” She did not say: “From the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” Furthermore, when God asked Adam why he was hiding, what did He say? He said: “Did you eat of the tree, whereof I commanded that you should not eat?” He did not say: “… of the tree of knowledge of good and evil” (Midrash Tadsheh).

R. Pinchas Ben Yair says that the tree of knowledge of good and evil is not so called because of its essential nature. It has no special nature. Its name arises from its final status, from its outcome, because ultimately it brings about something that is both good and evil.

And why is it “the knowledge of good and evil”? Because, by eating of it, man gained awareness of evil. Until he transgressed God’s command he never knew toil, hardship, cold, heat, pain, or any other harmful thing, but once he disobeyed God’s edict, his deeds were affected by many evils” (ibid.)

R. Pinchas Ben Yair shares with us his perception of the state of the world before the sin was committed. He maintains that the tree was a tree like any other, only acquiring the title “tree of the knowledge of good and evil” once Adam began to experience evil, to feel pain and hardship – not to distinguish between good and evil, but to be aware that good and evil exist in the world. We must understand the concept that this awareness had now become part of Adam’s world. It is the serpent who says: “For God knows that on the day you eat from it, your eyes will be opened and you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.” In other words, we see here a transition to a situation of awareness and openness that did not exist before.

And why did God command him to eat from every tree in the garden, and yet forbade him to eat from one of them? In order that he would always see it and remember his Creator, that he would realize that the yoke of his Maker is upon him and that he would not have a crude spirit. (ibid.)

This is a very difficult trial – what does God want? It is true that only one tree is forbidden, it is true that all the other trees are not only permitted but Adam is even encouraged to eat from them: “And the Eternal God commanded the man saying, of every tree of the garden you may freely eat”. The word ‘permitted’ does not yet exist! Nothing is forbidden or allowed – you can eat from everything except this one. So why was this tree withheld from him? “In order that he would always see it and remember his Creator, that he would realize that the yoke of his Maker is upon him and that he would not have a crude spirit”. In other words, something is forbidden – an excellent explanation. I think we must try to advance with this, and at the end we will find something much deeper hidden within the Midrash.

Previously I asked what motivated Adam and Eve and caused them to sin? When Cain killed Abel the Torah tells us that words passed between them – we don’t know what was said exactly, but something happened: “And Cain said to Abel his brother… and it came to pass, when they were in the field”. Yet in the present context, what impelled them? Who is this serpent? What is his motive? What does he say? If the serpent is the evil inclination, why is he depicted as a serpent, an external element who comes to tempt them?

The Torah describes the dialogue between the serpent and the woman. From the text we will try to understand the inducement to sin:

“And the serpent said to the woman, you shall surely not die. For God knows that on the day you eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened, and you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and a tree to be desired in order to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof and did eat, and gave also to her husband with her, and he did eat.”

The woman attempts to explain to the serpent that if they eat they will die, according to the word of God, and she struggles with herself. Incidentally, it is interesting to note that there is not mention of Adam having a similar struggle. Maybe yes, maybe no – but he accepts the fruit and eats it. It would seem that she already struggled for him. But why did she eat it in the end?

The woman uses three arguments to justify her behavior to herself: the fruit of the tree is good to eat, the tree is a delight to the eyes, and it is to be desired in order to make one wise. The issue of understanding, the issue of desire – desire is linked to the sense of sight – and the issue of taste – the fruit is delicious. It is good because it must be understood!

We began with Rambam’s basic assumption that before the sin the situation must have been better, more elevated, than it was afterwards. Rambam does not explain, as did R. Pinchas ben Yair, that the tree of knowledge of good and evil refers to the fact that Adam became aware of evil, or at least began to realize it, when things began to go badly for him, when he experienced pain, toil, heat and cold. Rambam maintains that after the sin, the world came down to a level of discernment of good and evil. Before the sin, man had lived in a world which distinguished between two other concepts, truth and falsehood.

Good and evil are subjective concepts. In the language of the Rambam, “truth and falsehood” are conceptual, while “good and evil” are relative. Something can be good for me and bad for you, something can be both good and bad for me, but nothing can be true and false at the same time! Sometimes I must tell a lie for the sake of peace, but that’s not truth, it’s something I must do. Rambam maintains that before the sin, the world was one of truth and falsehood, and after the sin it became a world of good and evil. Many commentators on the Rambam have attempted to examine these “codes”. I would like to refer to the great commentary by the author of “Nefesh Hachayim”, R. Chayim of Volozhen. He begins his commentary without referring to the Rambam, but there is no question that his work is based on Rambam’s interpretation. The author of “Nefesh Hachayim” says as follows:

And the matter is as follows: before he sinned, he was entirely free to choose the path he wished to follow – whether to do good or, God forbid, to sin, because this is the purpose of all mankind. Although he sinned, he was not prompted by evil influences within himself, since he was a completely righteous man, surrounded by the forces of holiness. He was pure and holy in all things, entirely good, without the interference of any evil inclination.

It is clear that even before he sinned Adam had completely free choice, because a man without choice is not a man, and this is the purpose of all mankind. Despite the fact that he later sinned, nevertheless he could choose between good and evil. Before sinning he was entirely righteous, as we read in Kohelet on Succoth: “God has made man upright and they have made many inventions”. He chose as he did not because the powers of good and evil were equally aligned within him, since he was entirely righteous. If so, we must ask ourselves, in what terms does his choice express itself?

The author of “Nefesh Hachayim” continues as follows:

The powers of evil stood at the side, a matter unto themselves, apart from him. He had the option of choosing the powers of evil, God forbid, just as man has the option of choosing whether or not to go into a fire. Therefore, when he wished to cause him to sin, the serpent had to come from outside to tempt him. Not as is the case nowadays, when the temptation to sin comes from within, and one is convinced that he himself is drawn towards evil behavior, and no outside influence is tempting him… Then the forces of evil were combined within him – this is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, where the worlds of good and evil combined, one within the other…

Before the sin, the forces of evil stood apart from man – good and evil were not combined within him. He was entirely pure and righteous, not in the subjective sense but in the sense that “God has made man upright”. Evil stood beside him, and he had the choice to take it or leave it alone. He is compared to someone who can choose whether or not to enter the fire. This is a most interesting example. Do I have the choice to decide whether or not to enter a fire? Of course I have. Can the danger of my being harmed as the result of my decision to enter a fire be compared, as regards force and risk, to the risks of falling prey to my evil inclination, my decision to look where I don’t want to? Naturally I am much further from entering a fire, but my distance from the fire does not arise from the fact that I have no choice. I can choose something further away, something outside myself. The fire is in another room, it is external. Yet sometimes people choose to enter the fire, and I, too, in the positive sense, have the choice of entering the fiery furnace of Abraham or other situations of martyrdom. But the fire is outside, it is external, a negative element which stands apart from me. In the wake of the sin a new situation was created in the world – good and evil were mingled and combined.

Now we must address ourselves to the phrase “When he wished to cause him to sin, the serpent had to come from outside to tempt him”. This is astonishing – why is it necessary to call it a serpent? Why not just refer to the evil inclination? Ibn Ezra asks whether the serpent is internal or external, from earth or from heaven? What does it matter? R. Chayim of Volozhen has a wonderful approach to this. He says that since Adam was in a situation where evil was external to him, it was necessary for the serpent to approach him from without and instill the evil within him. “Not as is the case nowadays, when the temptation to sin comes from within, and one is convinced that he himself is drawn towards evil behavior, and no outside influence is tempting him…” How confusing this is – is it me or is it not me? What do I mean by “me” anyway? Am I righteous, or am I a mixture of good and evil, always at war with myself? R. Chayim concludes: “Then the forces of evil were combined within him”. This is what happens as the result of sin. “This is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” – what a wonderful interpretation of “the tree of knowledge of good and evil”. We are familiar with the word “knowledge” from biblical sources. We always return to it. In this context, in this parsha, we read “Adam knew Eve his wife”. To “know”, in the Bible, is not informative. To “know” is to conjoin, to connect, to combine, to create a mutual joining. “And this is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, where the worlds of good and evil combined, one within the other…”

As the result of the sin, good and evil became partners and guests at the same table. The world had contained both good and evil and free choice existed. But in the wake of the sin, a different world came into being, a world of mingled good and evil. After the sin, the new reality was that man lost the ability to clearly distinguish – he lost his identity – am I righteous or am I both good and evil?

This is the most difficult question of all, the one that makes this story the most relevant of all. Every time I studied the commentary of R. Chayim of Volozhen I wondered what was meant by “And you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil”. Does the same evil also exists for the Holy One, Blessed be He? Does “you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil” means that good and evil are indeed combined. The answer is a resounding yes! God creates light and darkness, He makes peace and creates the evil. The higher man is elevated, the greater and purer becomes his desire (often dangerously so) to bring everything into his world, to attain a level where the roots of evil can be restored, since the roots of evil are good. Redemption is not the stage where no evil creatures exist “and I will rid evil beasts out of the land, neither shall the sword go through your land”. R. Shimon Bar Yochai explains that this does not mean “I will take the evil beasts and shut them up in a cage” but “I will rid the world of the evil of the beasts”. The Redemption, in terms of “the tiger will lie down with the kid”, means that whatever has evil at its innermost core also has great goodness. The greatest redemption is represented by our aspiration to this condition, where everything will return to its source, to its foundation. But in this world man must understand that his manner of pursuing this aspiration is very dangerous, because he is not God. He may encounter evil not only in its pure form, at its roots, but also part of its outer covering, its peel. He must therefore learn to distinguish. Whether he wants to or not, he must know how to discern between light and dark, between sacred and profane, between Israel and the nations. He must be able to see the difference.

As the Redemption draws closer, two opposing forces continually battle one another. One deals with uniqueness, the other is concerned with clouding, with blurring and confusing. I truly aspire to a state where “my house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations”, but perhaps it is less important to focus on “between Israel and the nations”. We are liable to forget that in order that “my house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations” it is necessary for them to come to a realization that “out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem”. This is the moving force behind “many people shall go and say, Come and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; and He will teach us of His ways, and we will walk in His paths”. It is an excellent thing that a Torah path exists, but if I don’t have my own paths and ways then what exactly will be revealed in the “house of prayer for all nations”?

On the one hand, we are witnessing a very strong trend towards true tolerance, a genuine conjoining, arising from something very great and powerful. On the other hand, this is the time of greatest danger, because all may be lost if I don’t have my own paths. If I don’t have my own roads to follow then I have nowhere to go. They will come to see the “house of the God of Jacob”, but I will have nothing to show them!

Regarding the phrase “many people shall go and say, Come and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob” our sages ask: why doesn’t it say “the house of the God of Abraham”? Why not “the God of Isaac”? Why Jacob? They answer as follows: Abraham had sons who spoke the “Ishmael” language as well as those who spoke the “Isaac” language. Historically, this took a long time to evolve. Then Isaac had sons who spoke the “Jacob” tongue as well as sons speaking the “Esau” language. Some of them even spoke “Amalekite”. This, too, was a historical necessity. Rambam teaches that Christianity and Islam gradually advanced the world to a belief in one God.

Our hope for the future is not for all the nations to say once again to Abraham “thou art a mighty prince among us”. They always knew this. Neither do we expect them to say to Isaac, as Abimelech did “the Lord was with thee”. We want the nations to say to Jacob the persecuted, who only has the languages of “Reuben”, “Shimon”, “Levi”, “Yehuda”, “Issachar”, “Zebulun”, that now they understand why all this uniqueness was necessary throughout history. “Many people shall go and say, Come and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; and He will teach us of His ways, and we will walk in His paths”. Many, many times the house of Jacob has found itself very much “a people alone”, far from redemption. It is clear that he must remain in this condition in order to survive, but as he draws closer to redemption, to his function of “a house of prayer for all nations”, he must give up some of the “house of Jacob”.

The serpent knows precisely what it wants from Eve, and Adam accepts whatever Eve says. The serpent says to Eve “You are scared of having it all. What are you afraid of? You can also be like the gods. There is no need to fear. Why should the fruit of one tree go uneaten? What’s wrong with an enlightened, “cosmopolitan” world, where even the roots of a harmful tree contain some good, since at the root everything is good?”

Our sages relate an Aggada, which at first glance appears very strange. It implies that Eve and the serpent were extremely intimate with one another:

When the serpent came to Eve he contaminated her. This contamination ceased when Israel stood at Mount Sinai.

The phrase “when the serpent came to Eve” is most disturbing. Why does it appear in the story? Why is it relevant? Rashi has the following to say:

When the serpent came to Eve – when he made the suggestion that she eat from the tree, he came to her, according to the text (Genesis 3) in the language of marriage.

How do we know that he came to her? Rashi, strangely, says that God asked Eve why she had eaten and she replied “the serpent beguiled me and I ate”. “Beguiled” in the language of marriage. (Interestingly, the sages link this with the fact that Eve [Chava] is similar to Chavia, which means ‘serpent’ in Aramaic).

This profound Midrash is the entire Torah. The serpent said to Eve “tell me what you are afraid of. Is it that you are not capable of eating from this tree? Your refusal to deal with this tree – does it arise from fear, from weakness?” But in fact it arose from something else entirely – the connection between “a lover and a friend”. Where such a marriage exists, there are no eyes for another. It’s not that I am afraid – it’s simply that I am truly committed to one person! If the link is one of marriage, the need to explore other options simply does not exist. But if the connection is merely academic, external, then one can also be wed to other options. It is then possible, for a brief time, to marry the serpent option. However, if the marriage is a true one, when the tie is one of “You have chosen us”, one of “because it is us that You have chosen”, a deep inner bond, then I feel loyalty, I feel a sense of connection. A person without a sense of uniqueness can easily identify with everything, because he has lost his own identity. As we draw closer to the Redemption, to the ultimate great aspiration of “my house shall be known as a house of prayer for all nations”, the danger of blurred identity is growing too.

Now we can understand why this is both exile and redemption. The first man is connected to all of reality – he must name all the animals and the trees, but in order to do so he must remember his uniqueness. He must remember that he is not one of the trees – he bears the yoke of his Maker. We are all created by God but Adam has a unique marriage bond with Him. This bond was shattered by the serpent, who made his own marriage proposal. A betrayal has occurred here – as the result of the two marriage proposals I am no longer truly married.

The great catchphrase of our time is “sovlanut” (tolerance) – the ability to be patient (savlan) and the ability to be tolerant (sovlan). It is a modern concept. Ben-Yehuda defines it as a word of modern writers. Both words include the root form “sevel” – suffering – implying that one suffers for the sake of a certain value. The word “tolerance” is not used by our sages, but we find it among the Gaonim and Rashi also uses it. It is written in the Beraita that “one should always be as humble as Hillel, not as strict as Shammai”. Humility in this context is equated with tolerance – acceptance of another person, despite the differences between us. Hillel exemplified tolerance in the sense of connecting with one’s fellow man.

It is interesting to note that the very same tolerance which Hillel wanted to teach the world appears later, in the generation that witnessed the destruction of the Temple, as the most outstanding quality of the nation’s leaders. Because of tolerance the Temple was destroyed! The story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza is a famous illustration of the baseless hatred which came to a peak in that generation. Bar Kamtza was mistakenly invited to a feast in place of Kamtza. When the host saw Bar Kamtza arrive instead of Kamtza, he sent him away, publicly humiliating him. Bar Kamtza saw that none of the sages present protested his treatment, and assumed that it didn’t bother them. In his anger he went to Caesar and told him that the Jews were plotting a revolt. Caesar asked him to prove it, so Bar Kamtza suggested that an animal be sent to the Jews as a sacrifice. “You’ll see”, he promised, “the Jews won’t sacrifice it”. Caesar sent a prime calf, but Bar Kamtza intercepted it on the way and blemished it, to confuse the sages. At first the sages agreed to sacrifice the calf despite the blemish, in order not to antagonize the ruling power. On the other hand, they hesitated to do so, because future generations could be led astray, assuming that halacha permitted the sacrifice of a blemished animal. Then they decided to kill the informer, but R. Zecharia ben Abakules objected, despite the fact that he deserved to be killed, on the grounds that in future it would be said that “he who blemishes a sacrificial animal must be put to death”. Rabbi Yochanan belonged to the first generation of Amoraim in Eretz Yisrael. When he heard the story, he said:

“The humility of R. Zecharia ben Abakules destroyed our house, burned our Temple and banished us from our land”.

I do not know of any other instance where a leading light of one generation said of another one, of a previous generation, that he was responsible for the destruction of the Temple. Moreover, it was not only he but a particular quality he possessed – his tolerance. Rashi explains as follows:

“His tolerance – his patience in suffering this and not killing him.”

I find this entire Gemara astonishing. I don’t understand the whole discussion. Where did they find the peace of mind to discuss at length the issue of one who blemishes a sacrificial animal? An informer sat among them – it was plain that he was a spy, it was plain that he intended to report to the Caesar, who would immediately besiege Jerusalem, to slaughter its inhabitants and destroy the city. Had R. Zecharia ben Abakules never heard of the concept of saving life (pikuach nefesh)? If the welfare of an entire nation was being endangered by a spy, he must clearly be put to death. Why the discussion?

In my opinion there is something very important here. R. Zecharia ben Abakules lived in the generation of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, a generation of baseless hatred. Yet, living at this time, he still understood that it was his duty to love, love, love – to try and create as much love as he could. This is real truth, it knows no boundaries, it internalizes the evil, and even the informer becomes part of the symposium – and at that moment the Temple is destroyed.

This informer is the serpent in the story of Adam and Eve. There is a tree from which one cannot eat, because to do so would result in the loss of godliness – your uniqueness as a human being created by God. The blurring of identity, the dissolution of differences in a world where all options are open, a world where with one keystroke on one simple program you can have virtual faith, even a virtual serpent!

The concept of authority must also be considered. This is an interesting word. In some languages it translates into a rather unpleasant image, but the root letters of the Hebrew are samech, mem, khaf – something that you can lean or depend upon. In the Ten Commandments, the injunction to “honor your father and mother” appears on the side beginning “I am the Lord your God”. This is not merely because “honoring your father and mother is equated with honoring God”. There is a far deeper and more basic reason – one cannot exist without the other! “I am the Lord your God” is not a philosophical concept, one option among many, it is something my father heard from my grandfather who heard it at Har Sinai. “I am the Lord your God Who brought you out…” perhaps not you personally, but your father. If you invalidate your father, I too cannot be found, this too becomes blurred.

Redemption is connection. It is “and He shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers”. Redemption is the connection expressed by “my house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations”. The Succoth festival is the greatest example of a universal festival, when all the nations come to Jerusalem to sacrifice seven bullocks (for each of the seven peoples). They come to Jerusalem to see the living waters pouring forth from the House of God, a Jerusalem aware of itself, aware of its identity.

When Adam eats the fruit of the one tree that is forbidden to him, he forfeits his moral strength and authority towards billions of other trees, because he has lost his uniqueness. Now he is simply one of them. From this moment of blurred identity comes the tension between the elements – between man and woman, between all of mankind, between mankind and godliness (“The woman whom You gave to be with me”), between mankind and all other creatures (“the serpent beguiled me”), between mankind and the earth.

Especially now, especially because of our great, correct and just desire to connect to all and to connect everything, we must learn and understand the lessons of this great parsha: one dangerous tree, a tree which presents good and evil equally in the system of options in which I live. This is the moment when Adam is transformed from a man of identity to a man of confusion, suffering greatly from his bewilderment. He is not alone in this suffering. As R. Chayim puts it, all the worlds suffer from the confusion.

I think the detail provided by Eve: “the tree was good for food”, is really the continuation of “you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil”. If we eat of it we will be part of this good. “It was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise” reminds us, perhaps, of what we say twice daily, the very difficult injunction “you shall not seek after your own heart”. Our sages say that “after your own heart” refers to sexual thoughts. These are two opposing options: “After your eyes” as against “pleasant to the eyes” – our sages say these are whorish thoughts “after which you go whoring” – these are thoughts of idolatry.

Rambam’s definition is riveting. I feel sure that there are some who would prefer that this commentary not be taught nowadays. Rambam was an extremely open minded man, as we know, and he explains as follows:

We are warned not to be too free in our thoughts, lest we believe in opinions contrary to the opinions expressed in the Torah. Rather, we should control our thoughts and set a border about them – the commandments and injunctions of the Torah. This is what is meant by “you shall not seek after your own heart”

Ibn Tivon interprets “we should control our thoughts” as “we should restrain”. Does this mean that Rambam considers freedom of thought a bad thing?

Rambam is telling us a great principle, one which is hard for us to swallow. It’s difficult and not very popular. Up to a certain point, up to a certain age, we can continue to say, as regards our desires and inclinations, ‘the more I fall, the more I will learn, the more I will be in control’. But there comes a time when we go beyond this point. At some time we realize that the principle of desire is a contrary principle, one of “he who hungers from it is sated, and he who is sated from it remains hungry”. We must learn to avoid becoming suffocated, we must learn to remain wisely in control, we must learn to balance, we must learn the process of discipline – we must learn everything! But we must also know the right direction, and this is not “you shall seek after your heart” and decide. The direction is “you shall not seek after your heart”. The direction is faith, obligation to one’s home, one’s self, one’s family. There is no direction that says “seek first, and then we’ll see; seek first and we’ll consider the options”. Rambam says that “you shall not seek after your heart” does not in any way cancel out freedom of choice, but makes you a more selective person. Similarly, says Rambam, “you shall not seek after your heart” does not mean I don’t have a thousand different personal options, it doesn’t stem from pettiness. It stems from a difficult, intellectual decision - we are warned against freedom of thought not out of fear but because we are wedded to the Holy One, Blessed Be He.

By the way, where does this sentence appear? In Parshat Tzitzit, the parsha of redemption, the story of the Exodus from Egypt.

In Masechet Berachot the gemara says that parshat tzitzit was selected because it includes the story of the Exodus from Egypt and also contains the commandment of “you shall not seek” – and redemption can only come when this commandment is obeyed. As we draw nearer to the Geulah we are aware of a very strong desire “to seek” – to enter into everything, to blur our identity. We do not find a new identity by canceling our uniqueness, by blurring our identity – we abandon the marriage and search for connections.

It is only when we are clearly aware that even at the pinnacle of Eden Adam remembered his Creator and knew he may eat from every tree but one, that he must leave the fire at the side, only then can we be secure in the knowledge that we are creating a new, mingled reality, we are creating an ideal situation out of doubt and confusion.

The magnificent tolerance of Hillel and of Rabbi Zecharia ben Abakules must not be permitted to become godliness. It is a virtue to be emulated, but at the same time we must not apply it to the one tree.

A society with one tree from which it knows it will never partake, a society that remembers its Creator and its obligations towards its Creator, such a society can contribute to the whole world. This is the only society capable of ensuring that “Torah will come from Zion and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem”, paving the way for all nations to a house which will finally become “a house of prayer for all nations”.

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