Parshas Shoftim 5786
- Torah Tavlin
- Aug 14
- 2 min read
לא תטע לך אשרה כל עץ אצל מזבח ה' אלקיך אשר תעשה לך ... (טז-כא)
The Torah forbids planting an Asherah - a tree used for idol worship - next to the Mizbeach. While the literal prohibition against planting idolatrous trees near an altar seems distant from modern daily life, its broader message remains painfully relevant: we must not mix the profane with the sacred. Unfortunately, this blend of the holy and the secular creeps into even our vibrantly frum world. Consider neginah (song), one of Klal Yisroel’s most elevated spiritual tools. The Vilna Gaon zt”l teaches that the heichal of neginah in shamayim sits right alongside the heichal of teshuvah. Through a pure, holy niggun, a person can reach immense spiritual heights, stirring joy and yearning for closeness to Hashem. Yet today, this sacred tool has been hijacked. Under the thin guise of Hebrew or Yiddish lyrics, musical styles drawn from the lowest cultural elements have infiltrated our simchos, cars, and personal devices. Non-Jewish music frequently serves as wedding intros. Dance floors, once reserved for the exalted mitzvah of rejoicing with a chosson and kallah, often resemble wild disco clubs, filled with rowdy gyrating that expresses everything except spirituality. Is this not planting an Asherah tree in the middle of the Bais HaMikdash?
A respected yeshivah mashgiach once shared that while visiting a kiruv camp, he learned they had a psak allowing music during the Three Weeks due to their unique atmosphere. Upon hearing the song selection, he remarked that he fully understood the ruling: modern music reflects the tragedy of galus so deeply that listening to it is entirely fitting for mourning the Churban.
In another instance, an ostensibly heimish musician played heavy electronic club music at a wedding despite explicit instructions not to. When confronted by the baal simcha, he answered, “What should I do? I have a reputation to uphold!” It is tragic when an unrefined musician whose life revolves around a keyboard dictates the spiritual atmosphere of a Jewish celebration.
As Elul and the season of teshuvah arrive, let us be mischazeik ourselves. We must purge such music from our playlists and simchos, removing all modern “Asherahs” from our lives so we may approach Hashem pure, clean, and ready for forgiveness.