Posted on 08/03/23
And you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and upon your gates. In order to prolong your days and the days of your children… (דברים יא כ-כא)
The Talmud derives from this verse that the consequence for one who is lax in fulfilling this command to affix a Mezuzah on the doorpost, is the premature death of one's children. (שבת לב)
The actual episode the Talmud records as evidence to this reality was an incident where a person had rented a house and dutifully placed Mezuzos upon the doorposts, but upon the conclusion of his term of rental he moved out and took down the Mezuzos. His children subsequently died. He should have left them up for the next renters. This is the law as recorded in Shulchan Aruch. (ב"מ קב)
Despite the obligation of the new dwellers to affix Mezuzos, the previous tenant must leave them up and not take them down.
But why is this so? There is no positive command upon the former tenant to fulfill the new renter's personal responsibility to affix a Mezuzah upon the house he is renting.
What did he do that was so terrible that it deserved his children dying?
What is unique about this precept that rewards one with long life in its adherence and warrants death upon its neglect?
Although there is no clear source for the custom to 'kiss' the Mezuzah when entering or exiting a room, it has been widely practiced and mentioned in earlier sources.
Why has this Mitzvah, more than others, become so cherished to warrant a loving kiss? Is it solely due to our appreciation of the special protectiveness G-d offers through this Mezuzah?
The Talmud depicts how Rebbe Abba would lovingly kiss the rocks of Akko. (כתובות קב)
Maimonides qualifies this act of devotion as something the great scholars would do specifically when standing at the תחומי ארץ ישראל — outer border of the Land of Israel. Why only there?
Several weeks ago, I wrote the following:
Have you ever wondered why we call this article of Mitzvah a Mezuzah? Literally the word simply refers to the מזוזה — the doorpost, it is affixed to.
The great sage and linguist, Rav Yaakov Zvi Mecklenberg, ponders why a doorpost is called a מזוזה. He suggests it is rooted in the word זיז — constant movement.
The doorpost at the entrance and exit of our homes is the stationary marker that observes a flurry of motion, dizzying comings, and goings, that are a metaphor for our lives.
The Torah sought to elevate the inner spirit within us to direct all our movements by its elevated striving, stifling our distractions, commanding us to place the banner of the Name of G-d at the forefront of our actions, infusing it with a firm allegiance to Him.
The Rambam writes:
A person must show great care in [the observance of the mitzvah of] Mezuzah, because it is an obligation which is constantly incumbent upon everyone.
[Through its observance,] whenever a person enters or leaves [the house], he will encounter the unity of the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, and remember his love for Him. Thus, he will awake from his sleep and his obsession with the vanities of time and recognize that there is nothing which lasts for eternity except the knowledge of the Creator of the world. This will motivate him to regain full awareness and follow the paths of the upright. (משנה תורה הלכות תפלין מזוזה ס"ת פ"ה ה"יג)
Each time we stop to gaze, touch, and kiss the Mezuzah, we reiterate the loving bond between G-d and His children. We put our dizzying lives on hold, however briefly, proverbially connecting briefly with the One we love, before returning to our distractions.
The Zohar, regarding the verse in the Song of Songs, where we express longingly, “Oh, that ישקני — He would kiss me, מנשיקות פיהו — with the kisses of His mouth…!”, describes this as a moment of דביקותא רוחא ברוחא — Cleaving of רוחא , spirit, to spirit. Therefore, kissing is by mouth, for the mouth is the outlet and source of rucha, breath; so, kisses are kissed with the mouth in love, and spirit clings to spirit, never parting from one another.
Perhaps it is in those focused moments when we stop to confirm our loving bond amid our chaos that generates the deepest feeling of love that finds its expression in a kiss, a testament to the life force that connects us to our Creator.
Might that be the reason why precisely when either exiting or returning to our holy land, facing the contrast of holiness and impiety, we reassert our realization of the eternal and all-encompassing bond we are privileged to have, with a kiss.
When we commit ourselves to the message of the Mezuzah — never permitting ourselves to be זז — moving away from a consciousness if the Divine Presence in our lives, we experience this notion of דביקותא רוחא ברוחא — Cleaving of רוחא , spirit, to spirit.
In the Sefer Shushan Sodos — authored by possibly a student of Nachmanides, or by the 15th century scholar and kabbalist, Rav Moshe ben Yaakov of Kiev — says that the reason one shall not remove a Mezuzah when leaving a rental, is because השכינה לא זזה משם — the Divine Presence [that descended with the placing of a Mezzuzah] shall never depart from there.
Might this idea relate as well to the custom to kiss the כותל המערבי — the Western Wall, of which we are taught השכינה לא זזה משם — the Divine Presence shall never depart from there?
In the second portion of the recitation of Shma, that our original verse is taken from, that aligns the performance of the command to affix a Mezuzah on our homes with the promise it will lengthen the lives of our children, the word for Mezuzos is written 'full' — מזוזות. This contrasts with the first portion of Shma, where this command also appears but is written 'missing' — מזוזת.
The two outer letters of this word are מ and ת, together spell מת — death. The middle letters, ז-ו-ז-ו, equal 26, the numerical equivalent to the Ineffable Name, י-ה-ו-ה, the Divine Presence. When we embrace G-d constantly, living with that consciousness — the very purpose of the Mezuzah — we ward off death itself. (ספר הקנה)
The gematriya of מזוזות is 466, which is exactly the same as נשיקה adding one for the כולל — the notion of One, the very objective of the kiss!
Children are our connection to eternity. We can only ensure that privilege if we live with the consciousness of the Eternal One in every moment of our life.
Think about that the next time you kiss your kid. Contemplate that when you kiss the Mezuzah. Ponder the depth of this act the next time you kiss the stones of the Kosel.
May we merit to absorb the kiss of eternal life, with the return of the full-blown expression of G-d's presence on that holy spot with the coming of Mashiach soon.
ישקני — Let him kiss me, מנשיקות פיהו — with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is better than wine.(שה"ש א ב)
באהבה,
צבי יהודה טייכמאן