Ki Tetzeh

This week’s parsha includes the mitzva of shiluach hakein, in which one who chances upon a bird’s nest and sees the mother bird sitting either on its chicks or eggs, has to send the mother bird away before taking the eggs or chicks for himself. Medrash Rabba 10 states that “because the mother bird was engaged in building the world, she deserves to be saved.” The Ramban explains that shiluach hakein is intended to inculcate in us the trait of rachmanus.

In our day and age, where the supermarket frozen poultry section seems light years away from a bird’s nest, it’s hard to imagine how shiluach hakein engenders rachmanus. Think back, though, to the pre-industrial age when live chickens were brought to a shochet, bird-trapping was a legitimate way of procuring food, and a mother bird unwilling to abandon her nest was an easy target.

Only, we should ask: If the Torah wanted to teach us rachmanus, why is this mitzva limited to birds? Why not command us to send away a mother deer or cow? Moreover, in a number of mitzvos, undomesticated animals and fowl (chaya ve’of) have the same din (such as inkisui hadam and the heter of chelev). Why here are birds singled out as opposed to other undomesticated animals?

Rav Zalman Sorotzkin, in his sefer Oznayim LaTorah, explains that the mesirus nefesh of the mother bird for its offspring is of a level far beyond that of other animals. Most baby animals look exactly like their mother immediately upon birth, whereas the mother bird lays eggs that have no semblance of their species and exhibit no signs of life whatsoever. Nevertheless, the mother bird sits on its nest, depriving herself of food and drink, loyally guarding and warming her offspring. When a predator approaches, the mother bird represses her natural instinct to flee for her life and holds fast to her young. This, explains Rav Sorotzkin, is only possible because Hashem imbued the mother bird with an especial love for her offspring, which leads her to be moser nefesh for them — even though they don’t show any signs of life or similarity to her. Shiluach hakein is predicated on a mother’s rachmanus for her young, and this is the Torah’s lesson to us: we must empathize with that love, respect it and not, chalila, exploit it, as the Medrash says: “because the mother bird was engaged in building the world, she deserves to be saved.”

Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz notes that particularly now, in the month of Elul, we should make it our business to develop the trait of rachmanus, as the Gemara (Shabbos 151b) states, that “when one has mercy on others, he is dealt with mercifully from Heaven; but one who is not merciful toward others will not be dealt with mercifully from Heaven.”

Many of the tefillos of Rosh Hashana express our desperate need for Hashem’s mercy, and the way to bring about a merciful relation from Heaven is for us to act mercifully in our own lives. Rabbeinu Hakadosh (Rebbe Yehuda Hanassi, author of the Mishnah) taught this lesson with his own experience, as it states (Bava Metzia 85b) that once, a calf fled to him because it was being led to the slaughterhouse, and he sent it back on its way, saying: “Go, because for this you were created.” For such callous behavior Rabbeinu Hakadosh suffered 13 years ofyissurim, which finally came to an end only because his maidservant came across a weasel while sweeping the house and wanted to sweep it out but he instructed that it be left alone, saying: “His mercy is upon all of His creations.” If Rabbeinu Hakadosh needed to behave with especial mercy for an animal in order to escape yissurim, all the more so must we act mercifully with the people around us!

Rav Shlomo Wolbe would point out that rachmanus is not as easy as it seems. Many of us think we’re being considerate to others when in fact we may be doing just the opposite. People are different, and each person needs different things. One person may need a smile and patience, another may need an encouraging nudge; others need advice while still others are in dire need of material assistance. Rachmanus requires that we first understand the needs of those around us.

It’s been about two years since Klal Yisrael lost a great talmid chacham who was a shining example of just this form of rachmanus and sensitivity to others. Rav Avraham Genichovsky, one of the Roshei Yeshivos of Tchebin, was a man who engaged in the chassadim that many others were not interested in doing. Although he almost never arrived late to a learning seder, this once happened and his talmidim pressed him to explain why. He answered curtly that he had attended a levaya. When asked who had passed away, and what his connection was to the niftar, Rav Genichovsky reluctantly disclosed that he had not known the niftar, but he saw that very few people were attending the levaya, and therefore giving honor to this Jew took precedence over his learning (he of course did not mention the importance that his attendance at the levaya would have).

Another time, as he was walking outside Rav Genichovsky overheard children crying from an apartment on an upper story. He climbed up the stairs to the front door to enquire if everything was alright, and when the children were unable to open the door for him, he understood that the parents were not home and had locked their children inside (which, incidentally, is a very dangerous practice). Rav Genichovsky went back to his home and returned with a ladder, which he then positioned against the wall of the building and climbed up until he reached a window through which he could talk to the children. He calmed them down and then proceeded to tell them a long, entertaining bed-time story.

May we develop rachmanus and merit Hashem’s rachamim on the Yom Hadin!

Ashem