This
mitsvah
appears as
the third of
the
sacrificial
commandments
connected to
the
holidays.
The previous
two mitsvot
in Rambam
were the
obligations
to offer a hagigah
and an olat
re-`iyah,
a sacrifice
in
celebration
of the
holiday as
well as an
offering
that would
wholly be
given to
God, to mark
one's
appearance
at the
Temple. Whie
only men
offered
those two,
all adult
Jews were
also
obligatedt
offer
another shelamim,
another
sacrifice
which was
shared among
the mizbeah,
the altar,
the kohanim,
and the
person who
brought the
sacrifice.
At its basic
level, then,
the mitsvah
of simhah,
of joy, on
the
holidays,
applies only
to the
Temple.
Indeed, the gemara
(Pesahim
109a)
records a
statement
that in the
time of the
Temple,
there is no simhah
other
than that of
eating this
sacrifice.
Before we
analyze how
the mitsvah
is fulfilled
today, then,
we should
try to
understand
the
components
of the mitsvah
in its
original
form.
One
option would
be to
declare that
we simply
cannot
understand
the mitsvah
as
originally
observed,
since it was
something
specifically
connected to
besar
shelamim,
to the meat
of a
sacrifice,
that we
cannot
understand.
Indeed, that
seems to be
the simplest
reading of
Pesahim,
since it
goes on to
say that
nowadays all
the members
of the
family
should find
joy in the
ways most
appropriate
to them, men
(for
example) by
drinking
wine. In the
Sefer
haMitsvot,
in fact,
Rambam only
mentions
drinking
wine as the
contemporary
mode for a
man seeking simhat
Yom Tov.
In that
view, we
have no way
of fully
understanding
the original
simhat
Yom Tov,
since it was
integrally
connected to
the
experience
of the
Temple and
sacrifices
generally,
realms in
which none
of us have
direct
experience.
In
the Mishneh
Torah (Hilkhot
Yom Tov 6;18),
Rambam
surprisingly
(and without
an apparent
source) adds
meat to the
list of ways
in which men
can create
the desired simhah
even
nowadays,
despite
quoting the gemara
that
only
mentions
wine. He
thus assumes
that eating
meat itself
leads to
some kind of
joy (as many
men can
attest); the
Talmud only
wanted to
point out
that without
a Temple we
cannot
capture the
full
experience
of eating
that
sacrifice.
The eating
of the
sacrifice,
then,
created joy
in two ways,
one, the
fundamental
joy fostered
by eating
meat, and
also the
element of
its being in
the Temple,
as part of
one's
service of
God.
Women’s
relationship
to this mitsvah
seems to be
necessarily
different
from what it
was in the
times of the
Temple, even
according to
Rambam.
While men
might be
able to
experience
some of that
joy by
eating meat,
Rambam (and
the gemara)
assume that
meat-eating,
perhaps
pleasurable,
is not the
way in which
women will
achieve the
kind of joy
we seek to
engender.
Instead of
meat-eating,
Rambam
recommends
new
clothing.
(As I write
this, I
wonder
whether
people will
see it as
sexist; I am
not sure,
however, why
it is any
more
"normal"
to get joy
from eating
meat or
drinking
wine than
from having
a new
garment).
This is not,
I should
add, a
ruling of
Rambam's,
but an
expression
of his
understanding
of what
would bring
the joy of simhat
Yom Tov to
women. Women
who feel
that getting
new clothing
just because
of the
coming of a
holiday
would not
bring them
that joy
should feel
free to
forego that
expenditure.
Women who
feel that
the
experience
of eating
meat and
drinking
wine does
contribute
to that joy
should do
that as
well.
The
interesting
part of this
difference
between men
and women,
though, is
how it
affects our
understanding
of the
impact of
the
destruction
of the
Temple on
our Yom Tov
experience.
To the
extent that
women derive
joy from
experiences
other than
food, their simhat
Yom Tov
currently
differs more
greatly from
that of the
time of the
Temple than
does men's.
In Temple
times,
eating
sacrifices
was the way
we all
experienced
joy; now,
each sex has
to go its
own way in
finding
joyful
holiday
experiences.
For men (for
Rambam in
the Mishneh
Torah),
regular meat
provides
some pale
shadow of
that joy;
for women,
that is less
obviously
true. The
joyful
experiences
they use to
achieve simhat
Yom Tov
will
necessarily
have to look
other than
at the
models set
up in the
time of the
Temple.
A
final
question
worth
considering
has to do
with why God
ordained
holidays at
all. Sefer
haHinukh and
Rambam seem
to see it as
a concession
to human
needs. Sefer
haHinukh
says that
humans need
to be happy
sometimes,
so God found
a way to
make it for
a useful
purpose.
Rambam, in
Moreh
Nevukhim
III: 43,
adds that
holidays are
useful in
terms of
fostering
good
relations
among the
members of a
nation
(celebrating
together
gives a
sense of
unity and
common
purpose),
and also
help to
inculcate
certain
ideas and
ideals in
the
citizens.
Without our
need for
celebration,
or the
national
unity such a
celebration
creates
(like a
ticker-tape
parade down
the Canyon
of Heroes),
God might
not have
ordained
that we
observe the
holidays.
Possibly,
God was
doing more
than
channeling
the human
urge for
group
celebrations
in positive
ways. It
could be
that the
human urge
for
happiness,
and for
group
experiences,
were
instilled by
the Creator
since those
urges,
properly
used, can
bring us
closer to
God. We see
in Tanakh
that
prophecy
comes to
people who
are happy,
not those
who are
sad.; so,
too, the
Divine
Spirit might
have the
best chance
of striking
us when we
are happy.
The simhah
of Yom
Tov,
then, might
be a
built-in
opportunity
and urge to
bring us to
a moment of
communion
with the
Holy One.
Similarly,
God is more
likely to be
palpably
present in a
group—be-rov
am hadrat
melekh—
than to a
particular
individual,
and the
joint simhah
of Yom Tov
might also
be seeking
to promote
that, all
with an eye
towards
deepening
our
relationship
with God.
Shabbat
Shalom.