Pasul

This past Tisha b’Av I came to terms with a sad reality. My tefillin are pasul. I knew this was coming. I’ve worn these tefillin for a long time…all the years since my Bar Mitzvah. I wore them every morning at camp, and when I davened at home. Granted, it wasn’t always daily, but still, they got good use at home. I davened with them at the Kotel, and on top of Masada. I wore them when I helped make a minyan for Rabbi Joseph Telushkin so he could say Kaddish at Mincha on Tisha b’Av several years ago. They have served in times of joy and sadness, and have marked my times, as well as my arm. Considering the time, and that they are not gassot (thick ones), I’m pretty impressed at how well they held up.

For my non-Jewish readers I should probably explain what tefillin are. It is a pair of boxes made from the hide of a kosher animal. The thick ones are made from oxen. One is for the arm and one for the head. The boxes (batim) each contain parchment with verses from the Torah written on them (parshiyot). The box for the head has four separate chambers for the four verses, which are placed in a specific order. The one for the arm has one chamber with all four verses written together on one piece of parchment. Leather straps, retzuot, are used to bind them to the head and the arm. The box for the head (tefillin shel rosh) is made with the retzuot knotted to form the letter daled, which sits on the back of the head at the point where the medula oblongata passes through the foremen magnum. The box for the head (tefillin shel yad) has a knot made to form the letter yud, which should be pointing toward the wearer's heart. The letter shin appears on the tefillin shel rosh; one with 3 branches and another with four. These three letters form one of the names of G-d. When the tefillin shel yad is wrapped properly, these three letters are made on the hand as well.

Unfinished Batim

My retzuot, though still in good condition were getting shorter and shorter. I can still get them wrapped, but not as securely as in years past. But there isn’t a crack in the color at all, at least to my untrained eye. I need to have the parshiyot inspected, as at this time I don’t know whether they are still kosher. It’s the batim that have gone south. They are horribly warped. This happened over the last year or so. I thought I had noticed it before, but it was almost imperceptible. Now, it’s obvious.

Tefillin shel yad

It’s odd. I’m not going to pretend that I daven regularly. I don’t, not in the conventional sense. Is it strange that on my way to work I find myself saying the Birchot HaShachar in my head…or am I saying it out loud? But no, I don’t always daven daily, and sometimes go months at a time. But as Tisha b’Av was coming I resolved that I would get myself into better practice, and be more regular about it, daven daily again, and now I have no tefillin. I feel exposed, like a soldier at the front whose weapon has malfunctioned. Let this be a cautionary tale.

So what is the message that I am receiving from this, that I find my tefillin are pasul as I prepared to embark on this renewal? I suppose it is that I need to do more than simply reengage in ritual. The tefillin are a physical manifestation of the words of the Shema, which commands us to carry the word of G-d in our hearts at all times, wearing them as sign upon our hands, and frontlets between our eyes (there are deeper, mystical purposes for the tefillin but I won’t get into that here). As we approach the month of Elul I’m getting a message that I need to try and renovate from the bottom up, recommit myself to what is important.

And, bottom line, I need a new pair of tefillin. There are a lot of places to get them, some more reputable than others. I know the type of batim, the ktav of the parshiyot, the knots…and I want them to have been made in Israel. They are not cheap, but considering they are made by hand, and the parshiyot are not only time consuming to write, and must be done precisely, it is not a surprise that a fair bit of money must be spent to acquire them.

For example, if a letter in a word is found to be wrong in the middle of sentence that has already been written, the sofer, the person who writes the Torah verses on the parchment that is placed within the batim, has to bury the parchment and start over. It is an expensive proposition, and one that a sofer who possesses the true spirit necessary to carry out such work, expends an incredible amount of energy to complete, spiritually and physically.

Certainly a sofer can correct words they have written and no one would know, but the sofer knows. And HaShem knows. A true practitioner of the art understands that they are fashioning a spiritual tool used to inspire the wearer to serve something higher than them. If the sofer cares about this he abides by the law, regardless of the expense in money paid for the parchment, and the time it took to write the words. And it pays to invest in a well made pair of tefillin. If treated well, they will last for years.

As the universe works, I was talking to a friend of mine, a veteran of the IDF. I told him about all this and he said, “Before you buy new tefillin, let me get you my father’s.” His father passed away a few years ago and his tefillin are sitting unworn. Before I could suggest that he should wear them he said, “I know you’re going to say that I should wear them, but I won’t, but you will, and I want you to have them.” So now I await the arrival of these tefillin. I do not intend to take them from him. I'm going to teach him how to wear them. They belonged to his father. Even if he never davens, he should say the blessing, put them on, and be closer to him. For my part, I am saving what money I can so I can buy a new pair of tefillin for myself.

Am Yisrael fights a spiritual war, in addition to it's battles to survive from one generation to the next. A warrior needs the proper gear.