Gender Genie

I tried it on some of my posts, and various emails I received from people, and it has been accurate. Counts number of occurrences of certain words, gives weights to them, determines if you are male or female. Check it out at:

http://www.bookblog.net/gender/genie.html

Eruvin Complete!

I took my bechina in hilchot eruvin yesterday, and am fairly certain I passed. Thisw was the last test for the last class for smicha. Now I need to find myself a fourth year halacha limaaseh thingie to do. Suggestions, anyone?

A bit more about Noach's family

We know Noach's children were Shem, Cham, and Yefes.
What is not widely known is that Noach's wife was named Joan.
Or that he had a pet named Aard.

That is all.

Bereishit: Three paths to sin

Another dvar torah i wrote for homiletics a few years back...
This sparked several comments when I first delivered it, so I expect I may annoy some people with this this time around. Comments welcome:


[Genesis 2:16:17]
Vaytzav Hashem Elokim al-HaUdum laimor, mikol etz-hagun uchol tochel. Oomeetz hadaas tov vuru lo sochal mimenoo, ki biyom achulchu mimenoo mos tamoos.

“Hashem commanded upon the Man, saying: Of every tree in the garden you may freely eat. But of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and evil you shall not eat of it, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.”

Yet, a few psukim later, [Genesis 3:6]

Vattikach mipiryo vattochal, vattitten gam li-ishah (mapik), eemah (mapik) vayyochal.

And she took from its fruit and she ate, and she gave also to her husband with her and he ate.

What could possibly have motivated Adam and Chava, the very first humans and the very purpose of Creation, to eat from the Etz HaDaas, in direct violation of God’s command? This week’s Parasha, Parashas Beraishis, lends insight into the question of what makes humans sin and turn from the path they know to be proper. In the parasha, Hashem creates Heaven and Earth, Light and Darkness, Waters, which he separates to be above and below the firmament, and Land and Sea. He creates plants, the Heavenly spheres, fowl, animals, and fish. Finally, He creates humanity, placing Adam in the Garden of Eden and creating Chava from Adam. Hashem places them in a Garden Paradise and issues only one proscription: they may not eat from the Etz HaDaas, The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Yet, Adam and Chava eat from the etz, and Hashem, in his Infinite Mercy, does not kill them on that day. They are cursed and are sent out from the Garden. A possible explanation for why Adam was only sent out from the garden and not actually killed is that Hashem utilized the Rabbinic principle of shlucho shel Adam kimoso … or … the sending out of Adam is like his death. However, most miforshim do not offer this explanation.

At any rate, this story is difficult to comprehend. Adam and Chava are tzadikim, created by God Himself, in the image of God. Adam heard the command directly from God’s mouth and knew that eating the fruit brought about Death. Furthermore, they could eat from any other tree in the garden. It is difficult to understand why they would sin, yet the snake convinces Chava to eat, and Chava somehow manages to get her husband to eat the fruit as well.

There is a machlokes among Chazal about this question of why Adam sinned. Chazal also discuss why Chava sinned, but I will focus now only on Adam.

Beraishis Rabba Parasha Yud-Tes: Siman Heh (19:5) and Parasha Chuf Siman Ches (20:8) relate a three-way dispute as to why Adam ate from the tree. They have interesting insights into Adam’s motivations in sinning, all of which are derived from a close reading of the text of parashas beraishis.

Rabbi Aivu quotes the above pasuk: vattitten gam li-ishah (mapik), eemah (mapik) vayyochal. and she gave also to her husband with her and he ate. Rabbi Aivu derives from the pasuk that he ate because she gave it to him. He says,
Suhchatuh Anuhvim vinuhsinu lo.
The etz hadaas was a grape vine, and Chava squeezed the grapes into grape juice and gave it to him. Thus, he did not know that he was partaking of the forbidden fruit and was therefore acting either out of shogeg or peshiah.

Rav Aivu thus takes the words vattitten gam li-ishah, and she gave also to her husband, as the reason for Adam’s sin. He just ate what she gave him, and did not know it was the etz hadaas. Thus, when Hashem reprimands him, he defends himself.

Vayyomer hu-udum hu-ishu asher nusatu eemudee, hee nusinu-li min-hu-etz vu-ochel.
I just ate what my wife gave me to eat, which happened to be from the etz hadaas.

In contrast, Rabbi Simlai quotes beraishit 3:17 (gimmel, yud-zayin), where Hashem says he will punish Adam Ki shumatu likol ishtechu, vatochal min-hu-etz, “because you listened to the voice of your wife and ate from the fruit.” Listening to the voice of someone generally means listening to an argument put forth by that person and agreeing to the validity of his or her argument. Thus, according to Rabbi Simlai, this pasuk implies that Chava presented a compelling argument to Adam, and Adam, persuaded by her argument, ate the fruit.

What was her argument?

Rabbi Simlai said She came upon him with her answers all ready, saying to him: “What do you think –that I will die and another Chava will be created for you? Ain kol-chudush tachas ha-shumesh. There is nothing new under the sun (Eccl 1:9) Or do you think that I will die while you remain alone? Lo sohoo viru-u, lu-sheves yi-tzu-ru. He created it not a waste, He formed it to be inhabited. (Isa 45, 18)

How did Rabbi Simlai know that this specifically was Chava’s argument? I would suggest that he derives her words from the strange phrasing of the pasuk: vattitten gam li-ishuh (mapik), eemuh (mapik) vayyochal. and she gave also to her husband with her and he ate, This could also be read:

Vattiten: and she gave the following argument. Gam Li-Eeshuh: also to her husband – The question: do you think there will be Gam Li-Eeshuh also to her husband another Chava? Secondly, Imuh: with her. The fact that Chava was created is proof that Man was not intended to be alone, but rather with his wife, so do you think that you will or should be alone?

Finally, the Chachamim disagree with Rabbi Simlai’s understanding of the pasuk Ki shumatu likol ishtechu vatochal min-hu-etz: Rabbi Simlai posited that shumatu likol ishtechu meant listening to Chava’s words, but if so, the pasuk should have said Ki shumatu lidivray ishtechu. Kol implies voice, not words, so the Chachamim claim that Chava began weeping and crying to him until he ate from the etz.

The Tiferes Tzion claims that Rabbi Aivu, Rabbi Simlai, and the Chachamim are all correct. First Chava tried to trick Adam, but he suspected her trick and wouldn’t drink. Then, she admitted that it was the etz hadaas and argued with him to convince him that eating the etz hadaas was the proper course of action. Finally, when she saw that she could not convince him, she started crying, shouting at him, and making a scene until Adam could not stand it anymore and partook of the etz hadaas.

While he makes an admirable attempt to create Elu VeElu Divray Elokim Chayim, to claim that all three opinions are correct historically, the Tiferes Tzion is almost certainly incorrect. Each Man DiUmar says what he says based on a verse, which he interprets to mean that this is the reason that Adam ate, NOT that this was an occurrence that happened before Adam ate from the etz but was not actually the reason he ate from it. Furthermore, Rabbi Simlai and the Chachamim argue about the meaning of the word kol, with the Chachamim giving a specific reason why the meaning of the pasuk is NOT that Adam listened to the argument of his wife. The Tiferes Tzion manufactures a fourth account with which none of the three would agree.

However, each of these three opinions are valid and important in that they lend insight into the question of what trap Adam HaRishon fell into, and more generally, how one can fall into sin. This lesson is important enough for the Torah to mention the story and then add extra or awkward words, so that we may darshan Adam’s motivation. Each mon diumar felt that the Torah was trying to warn us of a particular trap, and even if this was not actually why Adam sinned or what the Torah was trying to tell us, Chazal considered it enough of an ensnarement to be the cause of Adam’s sin. And, if a tzadik like Adam can make the mistake, certainly we must be wary of the same trap.

Let us reexamine the three opinions. Rabbi Aivu claimed that Chava squeezed the grapes into grape juice, and Adam unwittingly partook of the Etz HaDaas. Even though he should have been able to trust Chava, he is punished. Hashem himself gave this mitzvah to Adam, and the punishment was Death. Adam should have gone out of his way to verify that everything that entered his mouth was not from the Etz HaDaas. He did not give the proper chavivus to the mitzvah, and did not treat it with the trepidation it deserved. Therefore, it is regarded as pshiah, neglect of the mitzvah, and he is punished, though perhaps the replacement of exile for immediate death is a result of his being a shogeg. (Skip: This would accord with another midrash which states that God decided to treat Adam as similar to one who kills beshogeg, who gets exiled to a city of refuge instead of death.)

We must also be careful to treat mitzvos with the trepidation that they deserve. Sure, we check the hechsher before we eat a piece of food, but do we always check to see that our tzitzis are kosher before we put them on, in fear of violating a Biblical mitzvah to have tzitzis on any four cornered garment that we wear? Do we check our mezuzos and tefillin periodically to ascertain that they are still kosher? Do we watch television shows on channels that we know may place before our eyes inappropriate imagery during a show or a commercial? If we truly feared sin, we would take drastic measures to distance ourselves from it.

Rabbi Simlai claimed that Adam knew that it was the Etz HaDaas, whose consumption Hashem had proscribed. However, Chava presented arguments convincing him that violating Hashem’s Word was actually the righteous course of action. Thus, the second trap is rationalization. Not only is the human mind capable of manufacturing a moreh heter that it is not the worst thing in the world to do something, it can even produce a reason why what we are doing is a Mitzvah! We can convince ourselves about ra that it is tov and about tov that it is ra. Thus, we are to be a Light Unto the Nations, and we are supposed to be compassionate, so we can champion abortion rights and gay rights, even though the Torah does not condone abortion nor homosexuality. Furthermore, we then claim that this is the Jewish perspective.

Finally, the Chachamim claimed that Adam ate the fruit because Chava began to cry. He felt sympathy and empathy for Chava, and compromised halachah as a result. While it is a Torah ideal to have rachmanus, and not to hurt people’s feelings, this does not supersede the prohibitions in the Torah. For example, if you are invited to a meal by a close friend or close relative who does not keep kosher to the proper standards, you should not eat at his house for fear that you will make him feel bad. Try to decline as tactfully as you can. Empathy and sympathy have their place, but they cannot supersede halacha.

Thus, Chazal have highlighted these three pitfalls – negligence, rationalization, and sympathy. Now that we know these pitfalls, we should studiously avoid them.

The pseudo-pausal

We just switched over to saying mashiv haruach umorid hagashem. Or is that morid hageshem? Yup, its more pausal stuff, a followup to Succat David Hanofelet!

Some folks say hageshem, some say hagashem. The difference between the two is the hagashem assumes that the phrase mashiv haruach umorid hageshem is the termination of the previous paragraph in shmoeh eserei. Hageshem, which is not pausal, assumes it is the beginning of the next paragraph (for the phrase stands between two paragraphs). Only at the end of a paragraph would it be at the end of a sentence and thus warrant pausal form.

While this is so, the matching phrase, morid hatal, or as some say it, mashiv haruach umorid hatal, is by all accounts in pausal form. The pausal form is heh patach tet kametz lamed, that is, with a kametz as opposed to a patach under the tet. This is so even according to those who say hageshem.

Why? This is something in Hebrew known as the pseudo-pausal. It has pausal form but does not come as a result ot being at the end of a sentence or midsentence.

Rather, when you have roots of the form XYY, often the second Y drops off. Thus, RBB as myriad, but we say rav. HRR as mountain, but we say har. GNN as garden, but we say gan. TLL as dew, but we say tal.

However, is certain forms, the gemination of the second root letter manifests. For example, Harerei kedem, telalim, revevot.

When the definite article "the" = ha is added to such a word, rather than manifesting the second geminated root letter, the patach becomes a kametz, in a pausal manner(perhaps as compensatory lengthening. Often, when we would ordinarily double a letter with a dagesh, but we cannot because it is a gutteral, we lengthen the vowel under the preceding letter in compensation). So, if you look in the beginning of Bereishit, you will encounter over and over hagan, with a kametz under the gimel, even where there is no trup of etnachta or silluq. You will not encounter hagan with a patach under the gimel.

So too hatal.

King David's Fallen Succah

Towards the end of birkat hamazon, we say Harachaman Hu Yakim Lanu Et Succat David Hanofalet. Or we say Hanofelet.

I heard someone recently give a dvar torah where he explained the difference to be that Hanofalet is past tense, while Hanofelet, which it should be, is a gerund, and it means that is is currently (and continuously) falling.

In sooth, however, there is no real difference between Hanofalet and Hanofelet. The basis for this Harachaman is a pasuk in the last perek of Amos, where the word occurs at the end of a phrase; there is an etnachta by the word. Amos 9:11:

בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא, אָקִים אֶת-סֻכַּת דָּוִיד הַנֹּפֶלֶת; וְגָדַרְתִּי אֶת-פִּרְצֵיהֶן, וַהֲרִסֹתָיו אָקִים, וּבְנִיתִיהָ, כִּימֵי עוֹלָם.

"In that day will I raise up the tabernacle of David that is fallen, and close up the breaches thereof, and I will raise up his ruins, and I will build it as in the days of old;"

Because of the etnachta cantillation, we would expect the word to be הַנֹּפָלֶת rather than הַנֹּפֶלֶת. It is a pausal form, slightly more archaic and used in a stylized manner at the end of a half-pasuk or full pasuk. This happens to names as well, for example Lemech becomes Lamech in pausal form, and no semantic difference is conveyed. On occasion, this rule is not followed, and we have the pausal form in a zakef cantillation, or non-pausal form with pausal cantillation.

(The use of hanofalet according to some in benching is a development of people who see that is is at the end of a sentence, and so should get pausal form. But, since the original pasuk had that word where it deserves pausal form and does not get it, we should not impose it, and we should say Hanofelet. That is what Prof. David Segal says.)

In terms of meaning, succah translated as tabernacle, as above, suggests the bet hamikdash. The problem with this is that Amos was a prophet speaking when the first bet hamikdash was still standing, so it does not really make sense for him to be talking about the bet hamikdash being rebuilt if it is standing (on the other hand, he is a prophet!) I think some folks try to use this to show a late authorship of Amos. This is part of a general trend of some modern scholars to say that if anything presented as prophesy is shown to be true, is must have been authored after the events predicted occurred (for example, the book of Daniel). This view presupposes that true prophecy does not exist and works backwards from there, a very unscientific approach in my view.

Many meforshim explain that succat david hanofelet refers to the fallen malchut, kingdom of david. Originally, the davidic dynatry ruled over all of Israel, but then the kingdom split into malchut bet david (yehuda) and malchut yisrael. Metzudat Tzion, Metzudat David, and Targum (not absolutely sure what Rashi is saying) all say this. Malbim takes this as prophecy relating to the first, second, and third Temples (it is prophecy, after all). In context, I think succah as malchut makes a lot of sense.

A Succah Higher Than 20 Amot

The beginning of masechet (2a) Succah discusses the law that a succah cannot be higher that 20 amot. Different reasons for this law are given. The first, given by Rabbah, is that the verse in Vayikra 23:42 states that the reason for sitting in the Succah is לְמַעַן יֵדְעוּ דֹרֹתֵיכֶם כִּי בַסֻּכּוֹת הוֹשַׁבְתִּי אֶת-בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל,, "that your generations may know that I made the children of Israel to dwell in booths." Until 20 amot, a person knows he is dwelling in the Succah. (When the schach is) Higher that 20 amot, a person does not know that he dwells in a Succah, because his eyes do not reach that high. In Hebrew/Aramaic:
"Ad Esrim Ama, Adam Yodea SheDar BaSuccah; Limaala MeEsrim Ama, Ein Adam Yodea SheDar BaSuccah, Mishum Delo Shalta Bah Eina." (From Mishum until Eina is Aramaic, before that is Hebrew.)

The specific word "Dar" (dwell) seems out of place. "Yoshev" (=sit, dwell) seems more appropriate, given that that the pasuk states כִּי בַסֻּכּוֹת הוֹשַׁבְתִּי אֶת-בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל. At first glance, the derasha seems to be either on the word Yedu (know), namely that the person sitting in the succah must know he is doing so. Or, we might say, the entire purpose of sitting in the Succah is to know that Hashem caused our ancestors to dwell in Succahs in the midbar. Unless we know we are sitting in a succah, we can't then realize the reason for sitting on a Succah. Both of these are hard. Lets examine Rashi.

Rashi writes, "לְמַעַן יֵדְעוּ: Create a succah such that the sitting in it (yeshivata) is evident to you, as it says לְמַעַן יֵדְעוּ כִּי בַסֻּכּוֹת הוֹשַׁבְתִּי. (Rashi takes out the word דֹרֹתֵיכֶם and אֶת-בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, thus stressing that you should recognize that YOU [NOT the Jews in the midbar] were made to sit in the succah. He then explains what Hoshavti means:) I commanded that you dwell. So did they darshen it. And even though [the verse] does not leave its pshat that the Clouds of Glory surrounded them, however, they darshened it for a derasha."

My own suggestion as to what the derasha is is based on the curious word Dar. If, like Rashi, Hoshavti is a key word, why switch in the explanation to the word Dar, which means the same thing but lacks the echo of הוֹשַׁבְתִּי?

I suggest it is an Al Tikra. Don't vowelize a word to be X but rather to be Y. (This is on the level of drash, not pshat in terms of establishing a girsa in Tanach.) Dont read דֹרֹתֵיכֶם, Doroseichem, your generations, but דִירֹתֵיכֶם, Diroseichem, your dwellings. The pasuk would then read לְמַעַן יֵדְעוּ דִירֹתֵיכֶם, that you should know your dwellings. Until 20 amot, a person knows (Yodea) that he dwells (Dar) in a Succah, but more that 20 amot he does not know (yodea) that he dwells (Dar) in a Succah.

New notes from Eruvin and Horayot

On my web page:
www.yucs.org/~waxman

for eruvin, class 5.
for horayot, class 5 and 6. today we will have class 7.

Why do we sit in a succah?

A draft of a dvar torah from my days in Homiletics:

In Vayiqra perek chuf-gimmel posuk mem-gimmel, Hashem commands us to live in sukkot “Lema‘an yed‘u dorotekem ki bassukkot hosabti et bene yisra`el,” so that we should know that God caused the bene yisra`el to live in sukkot when they left Egypt. Thus, we sit in sukkot to remind us of a historical fact. We are used to the establishment of specific days to remember facts and events, some of which are important and defining for us as a nation, and the establishment of other days commemorating things that are not so important. For example, as Americans, we celebrate Columbus Day to celebrate the man who discovered the New World. We celebrate the 4th of July as a national independence day. There are also official holidays such as National Pickle Week and Groundhog Day. On the surface, it would seem that the historical event of the Jews sitting in sukkot that we are commemorating is not so important. We dwell in sukkot because our ancestors dwelled in sukkot. We also ate quail in the wilderness. Why don’t we have a National Quail Awareness Week? However, Sukkot is one of the shalosh regalim, one of the more important holidays. What, then, is the significance of the Jews having sat in sukkot, and why is it so important?

Rambam, in Moreh Nebuchim, section 3, chapter 43, explains that the purpose of sitting in the succah is to remind man during times of plenty of the days of deficiency. This increases our hakarat hatov, or gratefulness, to Hashem, who brought us to good fortune, and increases our humility by recalling what we came from and where we would be if not for Hashem. On Pesach, we eat matzoh and marror to recall the days when we were slaves, contrasting to today when we are free. Similarly, on Sukkot, we leave our houses and sit in booths in the manner of toilers, who dwell in deserts and forests, to recall that this was our situation in days of old, as the pasuk says, “ki bassukkot hosavti et bene yisra`el.” From that situation in the wilderness, God brought us into the land of Israel, to dwell in houses in the best of lands. Thus, by dwelling in sukkot, we recall our previous lack and appreciate Hashem’s beneficence for causing our current bounty.

In contrast, Ramban states that the remembrance is of all the *good* that Hashem did for us in the wilderness. The sukkot in which the Jews dwelled, even according to pshat, or the simple meaning of the text, were not actual booths but rather ‘anane Hakkabod, Clouds of Glory, with which Hashem protected us in the midbar. Thus, the hakarat hatob is for past help that God provided us, and not to recall any lack that we had in the midbar. Ramban also considers the possibility that the sukkot in which the Jews dwelled were actual booths. Thus, the festival of Sukkot is held in the beginning of winter. A people encamping in the desert, when the weather turns cold, will build sukkot for protection, so we are building the sukkot when the generation of the wilderness would have done so. The Jews in the desert did not build cities, but dwelt in tents and booths. Even so, Hashem provided for all of their needs. This is why we sit in sukkot – we remember that the Jews sat in Sukkot – they sat in temporary dwellings, and we would think that they would not be well off, but God took care of them. Thus, sitting in sukkot is still to recall with gratitude Hashem’s help to the Jews in the midbar, and to ingrain within us Hashem’s hashgochah.

Rav Shamshon ben Rafael Hirsch says has a position similar to that of the Ramban. He maintains that there was something intrinsic in living in the physical booths in the wilderness that demonstrated God’s providence, in which He provided the Jews with food and shelter for 40 years, and sitting in the succah is reminiscent of that providence. Both the rich person who has a comfortable dwelling and a poor person must live in the succah – firstly, to show that we are not doing this because we are homeless, but rather because it is a mitzvah. Secondly, sitting in the succah reminds the wealthy that their parnossah comes from Hashem, and reminds the poor that they should seek their parnossah from Hashem, just as in the wilderness all protection and parnossah was provided by Hashem.

A mashal to explain the Rambam is: A man lives a life of poverty. He is homeless and begs for money to buy food. His only shelter from the elements is a tattered and dirty trench coat. One night, he has a dream, in which Eliyahu hanavi appears to him and tells him of some buried treasure and tells him to invest it in Intel stock. He wakes, finds the money buried where Eliyahu told him it would be, invests the money, and becomes a millionaire overnight. Every year, on the anniversary of his dream, he would throw a huge party for his friends and family, and would put on his tattered and dirty coat. Several years later, during the party, his son asked him, “Father, you have all of these wonderful clothes and all of this wealth. Why do you wear that tattered coat to the party?” He answered, “many years ago, I was poverty-stricken and all that I had was this coat. Wearing this coat reminds me from whence I came and reminds me how much my fortunes have changed for the better as a result of Hashem’s help. This reminds me that without Hashem’s help, I would be nothing.”


Chasidish story: A malamud worked for a bal habos for a zman, and during this time the bal habos built an expensive mansion, and there was a big simcha as they made a housewarming party. The malamud was as joyous as anyone in the household. The bal habos asked the malamud – why are you so happy – after all, your stay here is only temporary. You don’t own this house. The malamud replied – and you, is your stay permanent?
This is another significance to succah. We leave our permanent residence and reside for 7 days in a temporary residence. This is to make us realize that even our stay in our permanent house is temporary – the period of our life. We can tie this in to the pasuk – so your generations should know, even in times of plenty, that I sat your forefathers in sukkot, temporary dwellings, because that is not the purpose of life. – to get nice dwellings, but rather to serve God.

Dvar for Haazinu

Warning: Grammatical discussion:
While they were laining Haazinu in shul this Shabbos, people at my table were surprised by the beginning of the 6th pasuk (Devarim 32:6):

הַ לְיְקוָק, תִּגְמְלוּ-זֹאת

I replaced the heh's in Hashem's name with kufs.
The heh in the beginning of the first word is written in a larger font, and is separated from לְיְקוָק by a space. There is a masora that this heh is a "teva bifnei atzmo," its own word. As a result, the baal koreh read "Ha," paused, then said "Le`Ado..." (with the ` symbol being an aleph) - that is, with a pronounced shva, a shva na, under the lamed.

Someone at the table expressed surprise that, if לְיְקוָק were its own word, there was no patach under the lamed (with an unpronounced shva nach under the aleph), that is "laDo...", as it usually becomes when you have "le" (lamed shva) followed by Hashem's name. He suggested it might be a mistake in our printed texts, at which point someone at the next table said it was foolish, since grammar does not determine what the masorah is, nor does it conform with it on multiple occassions. (I agree that grammar is descriptive of a language, rather than proscriptive. However, those who lay out the rules do so after observing the mass of evidence of how language is used, and if something is really strange, it is worthwhile to check to make sure (in manuscripts, and in sevara), that the text you see before you is not mistaken or misunderstood.)

In this instance, more is problematic that just that "le`Ado..." is irregular. It also violated a primary linguistic rule. You NEVER have two shva nas in a row. Shvas become other vowels to prevent this. For example, BeYerushalayim would have a shva na under the bet and the yud, so the first shva becomes a chirik and the shva under the yud disapprears, making the chirik a chirik maleh: BiyRushalayim. Here, the lamed is the first letter of the word, so the shva is a shva na. The A of "`Ado..." is a chataf patach, a form of shva na which apprears under gutterals (aleph, heh, chet, ayin), so we would have two shva nas in a row. This NEVER happens.

I suggested that the nikud reflects a tradition that the heh is not its own word. In that case, the shva under the lamed would be a shva nach. Thus, it would not be expected to be "la`Do..." and should be pronounced "Hal`Ado." Thus, we would have two conflicting masorahs.

I asked Prof. David Segal (Eliyahu's father) and he told me a lot more about this. First, he maintains that the heh being its own word only means that is written like that is the Torah, but not that is is read that way. That is, it is ktiv rather than krei. As evidence, he pointed out that if it were its own word, it should have trup, but it does not. Further, he showed me that in the Leningrad Codex there is a makef (dash) connecting the heh to the next word. Thus, it should be pronounced as one word, with a shva nach (unpronounced shva): "Hal`ado..."

He then pointed out that there was a dispute about the nikud between the two Codexes. The Allepo codex has the same nikud as we have in our Chumashim (and as I printed above) and would be "Hal`ado." The Leningrad Codex, though, has a chataf patach under the heh (rather than patach), a makef, a full patach under the lamed (rather than shva), and then יְקוָק, with a shva under the yud. He would claim that just as in every case of "La`do," the shva under the aleph quiesces, so does it here, and would thus be pronounced "HaLa`do."

Update: I misrepresented what Prof. David Segal told me. He had also pointed out that there was a sheva under the yud of YKVK in the Leningrad Codex, where there would normally be none. He theorized that that might be an indication that it was a sheva to be pronounced - a sheva na, and then the Leningrad Codex would be saying it should be: H(chataf patach)-L(full patach)`(chataf patach)...
That is, haLA`ado...
Actually he did not theorize as much as state "I don't know if it is supposed to indicate a shva na or not."

Also, the Minchas Shay states, with a manuscript like we have in Allepo Codex and our Chumashim, that there is a sheva nach under the lamed and shva na under the aleph. So that would be: HAL`ado... (with ` being aleph, A being full patach, a being chataf patach)