Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 5

Shalom, fellow trailblazers! It is so good to gather with you, my camp-alums, around our virtual campfire. Remember those nights under the stars, singing songs, sharing stories, feeling that special sense of belonging? Tonight, we’re going to tap into that same magic, that same spirit, but with a grown-up twist. We're taking some profound ancient wisdom and seeing how it lights up our modern homes, our families, and our very lives. No s'mores tonight, but I promise, the sweetness of Torah is even better!

Hook

Alright, close your eyes for a second. Can you hear the crickets? Feel the warmth of the fire? Now, can you hear that familiar tune echoing through the trees? It’s the kind of song that makes you think about where you’ve been, where you’re going, and that deep yearning for a place of comfort, a place where you truly belong.

(Imagine everyone swaying, humming along)

Singable Line/Niggun Suggestion: Let's hum a little melody that captures that feeling of journeying home. Think of a simple, repetitive tune, like a niggun on the words "L'artzeinu, L'artzeinu, Bo'u v'na'aleh L'artzeinu!" (To our land, to our land, come let us ascend to our land!). Or, for a classic camp feel, try a line from a song like "Country Roads": "Take me home, to the place I belong!" (Can you hear it? Good!).

That feeling, that deep pull towards home, towards belonging, towards a place that holds your heart – that's the spirit we're bringing to our text tonight. Because while our text talks about kings and wars and lands far away, at its heart, it’s all about building and protecting our sacred spaces, both physically and spiritually, and knowing where our true home lies.

Context

Let's set the scene for our campfire story. The text we're diving into tonight comes from one of the greatest Jewish legal works ever penned:

• Rambam's Grand Blueprint: Our text is from the Mishneh Torah, written by the incomparable Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, Maimonides, or the Rambam, back in the 12th century. Imagine building an entire Jewish legal system, from the ground up, covering every single aspect of Jewish life, all organized and crystal clear. That's what the Rambam did! The Mishneh Torah is a monumental achievement, a kind of spiritual GPS for the entire Jewish people, making the vast ocean of Torah accessible to everyone.
• Laws of Kings and Wars: Specifically, we're in Sefer Shoftim, the Book of Judges, within a section called Hilchot Melachim U'Milchamot – the Laws of Kings and Wars. Now, before you think this is all about ancient geopolitics, remember: Jewish law often describes an ideal society, a blueprint for how things should be. So, when the Rambam talks about a king, he's often speaking about leadership, responsibility, and the vision for a sovereign Jewish people living in their land, guided by Torah. It's about how we create and maintain a just, holy, and thriving community.
• Trail Markers for Our Sacred Space: Think of it like this: When you’re out hiking in the wilderness, your map and trail markers aren't just about getting from point A to point B. They define the boundaries of your safe path, they tell you which detours are worthwhile and which are dangerous, and they remind you of the essential route to reach your destination. Tonight's text gives us those kinds of markers, helping us understand the essential paths we must forge, the boundaries we must protect, and the profound significance of our spiritual "home."

Text Snapshot

Let’s take a quick glimpse at some potent lines from our text, Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars, Chapter 5:

"A king should not wage other wars before a milchemet mitzvah... It is forbidden to leave Eretz Yisrael for the Diaspora at all times except... At all times, a person should dwell in Eretz Yisrael even in a city whose population is primarily gentile, rather than dwell in the Diaspora, even in a city whose population is primarily Jewish... whoever leaves Eretz Yisrael for the Diaspora is considered as if he worships idols."

Wow. That last line is a real gut punch, isn't it? "Considered as if he worships idols." Sounds intense! But let's unpack it, not just through the lens of ancient kings, but through the lens of our own lives, our own homes, and our own sacred journeys.

Close Reading

Alright, grab your imaginary s'mores sticks, because we're about to roast some deep insights from this text! We're taking these ancient concepts and seeing how they apply to the "kingdoms" of our homes and families, helping us navigate our daily paths with purpose and passion.

Insight 1: Defining Our Battles and Our Boundaries – The Milchemet Mitzvah of Home

The Rambam starts by distinguishing between two types of wars a king might wage: milchemet mitzvah (an obligatory war) and milchemet reshut (an optional war). This distinction is incredibly powerful for understanding priorities in our own lives and homes.

A milchemet mitzvah, the Rambam explains, is a war against the seven nations of Canaan, against Amalek, or a defensive war to protect Israel from attack. These are not optional. They are about the very survival and identity of the Jewish people in their designated land. The king doesn't need court approval; he acts on his own volition and can even force the nation to go out. Furthermore, "The king may burst through the fences surrounding fields or vineyards to make a road and no one can take issue with him... He need not make his road crooked because of an individual's vineyard or field. Rather, he may proceed on a straight path and carry out his war." This is about clearing the path for the collective good, for the core mission.

Now, let's translate this to our homes. What are the milchemet mitzvah of our families? These are the non-negotiables, the foundational commitments that ensure the spiritual, emotional, and physical well-being and identity of our family unit. They are the battles we must fight, the values we must uphold, the practices we must maintain to build a strong, Jewish home.

• The Seven Nations of Canaan & Defense: In our homes, these aren't literal nations, but the external forces and internal challenges that threaten to erode our core values and identity. This could be the constant bombardment of secular culture, the pressure to conform, the cynicism that chips away at faith, or even just the daily grind that saps our energy for spiritual pursuits. Our milchemet mitzvah is to defend our family's spiritual space, to protect its Jewish identity. This means actively creating a Jewish environment, celebrating Shabbat and holidays meaningfully, teaching our children Torah values, and fostering an atmosphere of kindness and respect. As Steinsaltz notes on 5:1:2, Ve'Ezrat Yisrael is a "defensive war." We are on defense against anything that would compromise the integrity of our home.

• Amalek – The Archetype of Cooling Enthusiasm: The text speaks of the milchemet mitzvah against Amalek, not just to destroy them physically, but to "obliterate their memory" and "constantly remember their evil deeds and their ambush of Israel to arouse our hatred of them... 'Remember' - with your mouths; 'Do not forget' - in your hearts." This is a powerful instruction. Amalek represents not just a historical enemy, but an archetypal force that seeks to undermine, to cool enthusiasm, to attack the weak, to sow doubt and despair. They attacked Israel when they were weary and vulnerable, striking at the stragglers.

  In our homes, the "Amalek" is not a person, but those insidious forces that try to diminish our spiritual energy, our connection, our joy. It could be:

  • Distraction: The constant pull of screens, notifications, endless entertainment that makes us "forget" to truly connect with each other.
  • Laziness/Apathy: The ease of letting Jewish practices slide, of saying "later" to learning or prayer, allowing a spiritual chill to set in.
  • Cynicism: The tendency to dismiss meaningful moments, to be critical instead of appreciative, to let negativity overshadow gratitude.
  • Disunity: The subtle rifts that form when family members aren't communicating, not supporting each other, allowing small resentments to fester.

  Our milchemet mitzvah against Amalek is to actively remember and fight these forces. To "remember with our mouths" means articulating our values, speaking about what's important, discussing challenges openly. To "not forget in our hearts" means internalizing these commitments, feeling the passion for our Jewish identity, and nurturing a deep love for our family and its sacred mission. It means proactively turning off the distractions, making time for family connection, infusing joy into our rituals, and consciously choosing unity over discord.

• The King Breaking Fences – Prioritizing the Straight Path: This image of the king bursting through fences, not making his road crooked for an individual's field, is profound. In our homes, who is the "king"? It's often the parent, the leader, the one entrusted with guiding the family. Sometimes, making the "straight path" for the family's overall well-being means making tough decisions that might temporarily "break" an individual's immediate desire or preference.

  • Examples: Enforcing screen-free dinners for better family conversation, even if a child prefers to watch TV. Insisting on Hebrew school or Jewish summer camp, even if a child initially resists, because you see the long-term value of a strong Jewish identity. Moving to a community with better Jewish infrastructure, even if it means leaving a comfortable home. Setting firm boundaries around sleep schedules, homework, or chores, even when met with protest, because you know it's essential for their development and the smooth functioning of the home.
  • This isn't about being tyrannical, but about having a clear vision for the family's spiritual and emotional "destination." The "straight path" leads to a thriving, connected, Jewish family. Making it "crooked" to accommodate every individual "vineyard" (short-term desire) might lead the family off course. It requires courage and conviction to prioritize the milchemet mitzvah of the family unit.

In contrast, a milchemet reshut is an optional war, fought "to expand the borders of Israel or magnify its greatness and reputation." Crucially, this requires the approval of the "court of seventy-one judges." These are the "good-to-haves," the aspirational goals.

• Milchemet Reshut of Home: These are the family projects that are wonderful, but not existential. A big international family vacation, a major home renovation, pursuing an expensive hobby, or certain extracurricular activities that are not core to identity but enhance life. These are important, but they require collective discussion, buy-in, and resources. They need "court approval" – a family meeting, a joint decision with your spouse, ensuring everyone is on board and the foundational milchemet mitzvah is secure first. You don't embark on these if your core "defensive wars" (like maintaining a peaceful home or ensuring basic needs) are crumbling.

By understanding this distinction, we gain clarity. We can identify what battles are truly milchemet mitzvah – the non-negotiable foundations of our family life – and dedicate our primary energy there. And we can approach our milchemet reshut (optional enhancements) with wisdom, ensuring they don't overshadow our core mission.

Insight 2: The Land is Home – Belonging, Identity, and Spiritual Growth

The latter part of our text shifts dramatically to the profound importance of Eretz Yisrael – the Land of Israel. The Rambam lays out a powerful case for dwelling there, describing its spiritual benefits and even the severe prohibition against leaving. This section, perhaps more than any other, offers a blueprint for understanding the sanctity of our own sacred spaces: our homes and families.

The text states: "It is forbidden to leave Eretz Yisrael for the Diaspora at all times except: to study Torah; to marry; or to save one's property from the gentiles. After accomplishing these objectives, one must return to Eretz Yisrael." Even for commercial enterprises, leaving permanently is forbidden unless there's severe famine. And even then, "Though it is permitted to leave Eretz Yisrael under these circumstances, it is not pious behavior. Behold, Machlon and Kilyon were two of the great men of the generation and they left Eretz Yisrael only out of great distress. Nevertheless, they were found worthy of death by God." This is a stark warning!

Then come the powerful statements about the spiritual benefits: "Great sages would kiss the borders of Eretz Yisrael, kiss its stones, and roll in its dust... 'Whoever dwells in Eretz Yisrael will have his sins forgiven'... Even one who walks four cubits there will merit the world to come and one who is buried there receives atonement..." And finally, that truly intense line: "At all times, a person should dwell in Eretz Yisrael even in a city whose population is primarily gentile, rather than dwell in the Diaspora, even in a city whose population is primarily Jewish... whoever leaves Eretz Yisrael for the Diaspora is considered as if he worships idols."

Let's unpack this through the lens of our personal "Eretz Yisrael" – our home and family.

• Our Home as Our Eretz Yisrael: Just as Eretz Yisrael is the designated sacred space for the Jewish people, our individual homes are meant to be our personal mikdash me'at, our mini-sanctuaries. They are the primary places where we cultivate our spiritual lives, raise our children in Torah, practice mitzvot, and experience the Divine.

  • The "Prohibition of Leaving": The Rambam's strong prohibition against leaving Eretz Yisrael, except for specific, holy purposes, is a profound teaching about intentional presence. What pulls us "out of our home" – away from our family's core mission and connection?
    • "To study Torah" (Learning & Growth): We can (and should) leave our immediate home to learn and grow, but the purpose is to bring that wisdom back to enrich our home. This could be going to a class, a retreat, or even deep personal study.
    • "To marry" (Building New Family): This is about establishing a new "Eretz Yisrael," a new sacred family unit.
    • "To save one's property" (Essential Livelihood): We need to work, to provide for our families. But the text implies this is for saving, not just accumulating. The danger is when the pursuit of wealth, career advancement, or social status becomes the primary driver, pulling us away from our homes and families, making us "leave Eretz Yisrael" with the intent of settling permanently in the Diaspora.
    • Machlon and Kilyon's Warning: Their story (from the Book of Ruth) is a powerful reminder that even in "great distress" (like famine), leaving our spiritual home (or our family's core) should be a last resort. Their fate serves as a cautionary tale: prioritizing physical comfort or external success over spiritual rootedness can have dire consequences.
  • Modern "Exiles": Are we, in our modern lives, too often "leaving Eretz Yisrael" (our homes) for the "Diaspora" (external pursuits)? Overwork, endless social engagements, excessive screen time, constant travel, volunteering for everything under the sun – are these necessary for "saving property," or have they become ways we "settle permanently" outside our spiritual home? The text challenges us to be mindful of where our true allegiance and presence lie.

• "Whoever dwells in Eretz Yisrael will have his sins forgiven" (Isaiah 33:24): The commentary (Tziunei Maharan, Steinsaltz) clarifies that this isn't magic, but about the transformative power of being in the right spiritual environment. When we are truly present in our "home," living intentionally, focusing on our family's spiritual and emotional well-being, we are in a space of forgiveness, growth, and connection to the Divine. The "sickness" (sin, spiritual malaise) is addressed by being rooted in this holy place. When we are fully engaged in our home, cultivating its sacredness, we naturally grow, heal, and rectify our missteps.

• "Kiss the borders, kiss its stones, roll in its dust": This beautiful image of the Sages' profound love for the land (Steinsaltz 5:10:1 tells us this was when they arrived from outside) should inspire us. How do we show this kind of passionate love and devotion for our home? Not just for the physical structure, but for the idea of home, the family within it, and the spiritual life we build there?

  • Practically: This means cherishing family moments, investing in relationships, creating sacred spaces within our home (a specific place for prayer, for learning, for Shabbat meals), showing gratitude for our blessings, and making our home a mikdash me'at. It means actively touching and feeling the sanctity of our daily lives within its walls.

• Living vs. Being Buried There: Steinsaltz (5:11:2) notes the difference in merit between one who lives in Eretz Yisrael and one whose body is brought there after death. This emphasizes active participation. We don't just want our family to be a Jewish family; we want to live a Jewish family life, actively engaging, growing, and experiencing its holiness now. It's not enough to be associated with Judaism passively; we must be present and active participants in building our sacred home.

• "Leaving Eretz Yisrael... is considered as if he worships idols": This is the most shocking statement. Tziunei Maharan (5:12:1) points out that Rambam's source for this is not the Talmud directly, but Midrashic tradition (Tosefta Avodah Zarah, Tanchuma) which derives it from verses like 1 Samuel 26:19 where David says, "They have driven me out today from dwelling in the heritage of God, saying 'Go, serve other gods.'" The Midrash explains that David wasn't literally saying he'd worship idols, but that by being forced out of God's land, he was being forced away from God's presence, from the place where His sovereignty is most fully accepted.

  • The Idolatry of Disconnection: In our homes, this means that abandoning our "Eretz Yisrael" – the sacred space of our family and Jewish practice – for external pursuits is a form of spiritual idolatry. It's not worshipping a physical idol, but worshipping other gods: the god of career, the god of social status, the god of entertainment, the god of self-indulgence. These "gods" pull us away from our true heritage, from the "heritage of God" that is meant to be cultivated within our homes. They sever our connection to the divine flow that nourishes our spiritual lives.
  • Preferring Eretz Yisrael even in a Gentile City: The Rambam concludes by saying it's better to live in Eretz Yisrael, even among gentiles, than in the Diaspora, even among Jews. This means the intrinsic holiness of the place and the commitment to building our spiritual home there is paramount. Translated to our homes: even if our immediate surroundings aren't perfectly Jewish (e.g., our neighborhood, our extended community), the internal commitment to making our home a Jewish home, a place of Torah and mitzvot, is what truly matters. The internal sanctity and our active participation in it outweigh external community if it means abandoning our own sacred space.

These insights challenge us to be profoundly intentional about our homes. They are not just buildings; they are our personal Eretz Yisrael, our sacred lands where we wage our milchemet mitzvah against spiritual apathy, cultivate our connection to God, and experience the transformative power of Jewish life.

Micro-Ritual

Let's take these powerful ideas and bring them into our homes with a simple, yet profound, Friday night ritual. We’ll call it: "Welcoming Shabbat, Welcoming Home: Grounding Our Sacred Space."

This ritual is designed to help us consciously establish our home as our personal "Eretz Yisrael," our sacred space, and to recognize Shabbat as our weekly "milchemet mitzvah" – the essential, non-negotiable battle for spiritual presence and connection. It connects directly to the idea of the Sages "kissing the borders" upon entering Eretz Yisrael, and the profound spiritual benefits of dwelling there.

When to do it: Just before Kiddush on Friday night, after the candles are lit and everyone is gathered at the Shabbat table.

How to do it:

1. Gather & Connect: Have everyone at the table join hands, or if that's not comfortable, simply place their hands on the table, feeling the connection to the physical space and to each other. Take a deep breath together. Let the week's rush melt away.

2. Declare Your Sacred Space (Kavanah/Intention): The "king" (or parent/leader) of the home can then say, slowly and with intention, something like this: "Tonight, as Shabbat descends upon us, we remember that our home is our Eretz Yisrael, our holy land. It is the sacred space where our family builds its Jewish life, where we connect to each other, and where we invite God's presence. Just as the Sages cherished every stone of Eretz Yisrael, we cherish this home, these moments, and each person gathered here."

3. "Kissing the Borders" (Physical Connection):

   • Invite everyone to gently touch the Shabbat tablecloth, or the table itself, or even touch a mezuzah on a nearby doorpost.
   • As they do so, encourage them to think of it as "kissing the borders" of their personal Eretz Yisrael, acknowledging its sacredness.
   • The leader can then say: "This touch reminds us that we are choosing to dwell in our Eretz Yisrael this Shabbat. We are intentionally not leaving our spiritual home for the 'Diaspora' of distractions, tasks, or external pressures. We are fully present, fully here, in this holy space we create together."

4. Acknowledge Your Milchemet Mitzvah (Commitment):

   • Continue: "This Shabbat, we commit to our milchemet mitzvah – our essential, non-negotiable task – of cultivating connection, peace, and Jewish joy in our home. We put aside the 'Amaleks' of distraction and apathy. We commit to the 'straight path' of family presence, knowing that in doing so, we strengthen our family's soul."
   • You might add a simple, communal "Amen" or "Shabbat Shalom" after this declaration.

5. Sing a Niggun of Belonging:

   • To seal the ritual, gently hum or sing together a wordless niggun, or a simple melody like "L'artzeinu, L'artzeinu, Bo'u v'na'aleh L'artzeinu!" (To our land, to our land, come let us ascend to our land!). Let the melody fill the space, reinforcing the feeling of being rooted and connected in your sacred home.
   • This musical moment helps to internalize the intention, making it experiential and memorable, just like those camp songs that stick with you for years.

Why this works:

• Intentionality: It transforms a routine moment (sitting down for dinner) into a deeply intentional act, reminding everyone of the profound purpose behind Shabbat and family time.
• Physicality: The act of touching the table or mezuzah makes the abstract concept of "sacred space" tangible and real, echoing the Sages' devotion to the land.
• Connection to Text: It directly applies the Rambam's concepts of Eretz Yisrael and milchemet mitzvah to everyday family life, bringing ancient wisdom to the modern home.
• Unity: Holding hands or sharing a touch fosters a sense of unity and shared purpose within the family, reinforcing that this is a collective "milchemet mitzvah."
• Clarity: It clearly delineates Shabbat as a time for "not leaving Eretz Yisrael," a time to put aside external "Diaspora" pursuits and focus on the spiritual core of the home. This helps fight the "Amalek" of distraction by setting clear boundaries.

This simple ritual takes just a minute or two, but its impact can resonate through your entire Shabbat, and indeed, through your week, reminding you of the profound holiness you are building right within your own four walls.

Chevruta Mini

Alright, fellow campers, time for a little buddy-learning, just like we used to share stories around the fire. Grab a partner, or just reflect on these questions yourself:

1. The Rambam distinguishes between milchemet mitzvah (obligatory) and milchemet reshut (optional) for a king. What's one "milchemet mitzvah" – a non-negotiable, foundational value or practice – you're committed to upholding in your home or family life? How does recognizing it as such empower you to prioritize it, even when it feels like "breaking fences" for the greater good?
2. The Sages "kissed the borders" and "cherished the dust" of Eretz Yisrael. What's one specific, tangible way you can "kiss the stones" or "cherish the dust" of your own home or family this week, showing gratitude and strengthening its sacredness as your personal "Eretz Yisrael"?

Takeaway

Wow, what a journey we've taken tonight, from ancient kings and battles to the sacred space of our very own homes. We've learned that Torah isn't just about history; it's a living guide, a map for intentional living.

The Rambam, with his grand vision, reminds us that building a strong, Jewish life, whether for a nation or a family, requires clear priorities. We must identify our milchemet mitzvah – those essential, non-negotiable values and practices that define our identity and ensure our well-being – and fight fiercely for them, making a straight path for our spiritual journey. And we must be ever vigilant against the "Amaleks" of distraction, apathy, and cynicism that seek to cool our enthusiasm and pull us away.

Most powerfully, we’ve seen that our homes are not just buildings, but our personal Eretz Yisrael, our holy land. They are the sacred ground where we cultivate connection, grow in Torah, and experience God's presence. Just as the Sages cherished every stone of Israel, let us cherish every moment, every connection, every mitzvah within our own four walls. Let us commit to dwelling in our sacred home, not just physically, but with our full hearts and minds, choosing presence over distraction, and connection over outward pursuits.

So, as we extinguish our virtual campfire tonight, may we carry the warmth of these insights into our lives. May we be intentional trailblazers, building and protecting our sacred homes with purpose, passion, and the unwavering light of Torah. Shabbat Shalom, and may you find deep peace and connection in your personal Eretz Yisrael this week!