Parshas Emor: Spring Charity

 Parshas Emor: Spring Charity

If you’ve been counting the way I’ve been counting, then congratulations on making it this far in Sefiras Haomer. (Trust me, there are years I missed counting on day two!) More seriously, if you’ve been counting the way I’ve been counting, then you are fulfilling a mitzvah from this week’s parsha: “And you shall count for yourselves from the day after the day of rest, from the day that you brought the sheaf of the waving, seven weeks shall be completed” (Vayikra 23:15).

 

It is a fact that we take our holidays very seriously. Vayikra 23 is just one of several places in the Torah where they are listed in detail, which actually makes it easy for one to just glance over them when reading the parsha and sort of nod to one’s self. Yup – Pesach, omer, Shavuos…yup, Seventh month…got it, yes. Tucked in among those perakim, however, is an extra commandment – one that seems to have nothing to do with the holy days. It is the only verse in Vayikra 23 that is, seemingly, unrelated to the holidays. It says: “And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not wholly reap the corner of your field, neither shall you gather the gleaning of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor, and for the stranger: I am the L-rd your Gd” (Vayikra 23:22).

 

The obvious question, of course, is why this verse is here at all since it seems to take away from the general subject. While one can insert basic principals of logic, such as “Seeing that the principal period of harvesting commences around the time of Shavuot, the Torah chose to speak of this season first, when discussing special laws of benefit to the poor connected with the act of collecting the harvest” (Chizkuni, Leviticus 23:22:1), this only answers the question of what is the connection, not of why it was connected here.

 

Shavuos is a strange holiday. In the Torah it has no official date, just that it is celebrated at the end of the count. It is a convocation without any specific rituals. Much of how we celebrate this chag is based on minhagim rather than rules, such as all night learning and eating dairy. If we lived in an agrarian society, as Bnei Yisrael once did, Shavuos might have a more potent impact as we would be right in the middle of the spring harvest. We would have been working for weeks, and we would be highly aware of all the effort that went into the production of the food. If we were running a farm, we might come to feel that all the grain we had brought for the omer offering was enough to lose from one’s hard work. But, “Perhaps the Torah wanted to inform us that the owner of a field from which the barley for the Omer sacrifice has already been taken is still subject to the variety of tithes the farmer is commanded to leave for the poor when he harvests his field” (Or HaChaim on Leviticus 23:22:1). The Or Hachaim goes on to say that the Torah interrupts itself here, in Vayirka 23, so that a person would not think that their barley field would “no longer be subject to the legislation of the various donations which have to be separated from the harvest” (ibid.).

 

This is a very practical and efficient understanding of the verse. Perhaps we can add to that an understanding for the Jewish generations of the 21^st century, most of whom are not agrarian and none of whom yet have access to the Beish Hamikdash.

 

Reaping the harvest of the land is the glorious culmination of hard work. Our chagim are the gathering times that we today, with our long-distance families and our overbooked lives, can look forward to as a time to get back to what is most important – our spirituality and our relationship with God. On all of these holidays, we must stop and be aware not just of how fortunate we are but also on how we can help others in a dignified and meaningful way.

 

This reminder could be inferred for any of the more agriculturally aligned holidays – the shlosh regalim. It is inserted after the commandment of Shavuos, perhaps because Pesach and Sukkot are themselves so full of mitzvot and are therefore busy times for this reminder. Or perhaps it is the other way around. Sukkot and Pesach surround the winter. In the fall, as the temperatures drop, we are all aware of the upcoming need for stocked food and warm clothing. In the early spring of Pesach, we have not yet recovered from the winter, so we are more aware and conscientious of those in need who might have suffered more challenges. But in the late spring/early summer, when warm air and the sunny skies make us all feel joyful and lighthearted and optimistic and we are celebrating a holiday for which we do not have weeks of physical preparation, it is easy to be wrapped up in a sense of ease.  But even if it is warm and sunny, there are still many people who are struggling to get their basic essentials.

 

This probably is not the reason that Vayikra 23:22 is included in the middle of all the chagim. However, with today’s lifestyle being so very different from that of the majority of our ancestors, we need to seek out an application that resonates. The laws of the Torah are laws that can be eternally applied; it is up to us to see a deeper perspective and to recognize that Hashem has made it clear that chesed is always important.

Enjoy the spring. Enjoy our movement toward the celebration of Matan Torah. Have a beautiful Shabbas.

Parshas Kedoshim: Three Times the Ghost

How much time in your day-to-day living do you spend thinking about Hashem, how to get closer to Him or what He really wants from you? This week’s parsha brings us to the quintessential command for living – holy you shall be. So simple to say; not so simple to implement or even to understand on its deeper levels.

There are many ways that we can think about being holy. Simplistically, one might say it is to be religious, to be part of the community that lives life to a higher standard. Many of these standards, mitzvos and laws, are set down in this week’s parsha, Parshas Kedoshim.

 

There are many fascinating structural elements to this parsha, such as the frequent repetition of Ani Hashem, that are intriguing to explore. One of these interesting elements can be found in the thrice repeated prohibition regarding Ohv and Yidoni, which seems to most often be translated as ghosts and familiars.

 

If this gave you pause, that is not surprising. Most of us knew that there was a prohibition against necromancy; that in itself is not odd. What is interesting is how it flows in and out of the parsha that is generally subdivided into multiple, brief topics. This prohibition is mentioned in 19:31, 20:6, and 20:27 – the last pasuk of the parsha. Allowing for the concept that there are no extra words in the Torah, there is then a question of what distinguishes each of these perakim.

 

Interestingly, when set one after another, the three verses read as follows:

19:31 – Do not turn to ghosts or to familiars, do not seek to be defiled by them. I am the Lord your God.

20:6 – And the soul that turns to ghosts or familiars, to go astray after them, I will set My face against that soul and cut him off from his people.

20:27 – A man or a woman that is within them [meaning divines through] a ghost or familiar shall be put to death. They shall stone them with stones. Their blood shall be upon them.

 

From this perspective, there appears to be a progression from commandment not to do so, to the consequence of seeking such “guidance,” to the punishment for the one who performs those actual rituals of “communication.”  And the verses go from no punishment, to a punishment that is generally considered spiritual, to a punishment that is physical – to death. One might deduce from this progress that the man or woman mentioned in verse 27 has gone beyond negating holiness to being one who destroys the holiness of others.

 

But one still needs to ask why these pesukim are not set one after the other since they are so obviously related. Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsh provides interesting insights, both on 19:31 and 20:6, on deeper concepts that might be drawn from these prohibitions in each of their locations. Verse 19:31 follows a restatement of keeping Shabbas, but, more significantly, it precedes the commandment “You shall rise before the aged and show deference to the old; you shall fear your God: I am Hashem” (18:32). Rav Hirsh points out how this is the “complete positive opposite.” Perhaps we should understand from here that a person who seeks guidance from ghosts and oracles and familiars should do far better to seek that guidance from those who have lived and experience a great deal of life, particularly those who have steeped themselves in Torah.

 

Similarly, 20:6, which describes those people who actually turn to this guidance, comes immediately after Hashem reiterates His feelings about those who turn to Moloch. The worship of Moloch was hideous and included the burning of children. It is also interesting, however, to note the name of this false god and how it so closely reflects the term Melech, king. Hashem is Malachei Hamelachim, and this avoda to Moloch represents the absolute dismissal of Hashem’s reign. Many people turn to idolatry because, perhaps, they have trouble with the distance Hashem needs to keep in order to give us free will. This is the same drive that leads someone to consult oracles and ghosts. Rav Hirsh points out that “The belief in the imaginary power of oracles is closely related to that of the power of Moloch, a power of ill-luck or providence apart from God. It is seeking pronouncement on the desirability of taking action or abstaining from it, and of one’s fate, from other imaginary sources.”

 

The third reference follows the verse “And you shall remain holy to Me, for I, God, am holy and I have separated you from the nations to be Mine” (20:26). Hashem chose us, and it is up to us to make a relationship with Him. That is the very purpose of being kadosh. If we feel the need to seek out ghosts or familiars, oracles and divination [as some translations go], then we, as a nation, have lost our purpose.

 

When we hear that the Torah bans necromancy and communing with the dead, as the wording is often put in the modern modes of language, many of us laugh a bit inside. Who would do such a thing? It is so obviously a contradiction to what we believe. And yet it is so strongly repeated in the Torah because it is a natural inclination in man. But one that has such a desire can react to it by following the path of his elders and learning Torah and connecting to God, or that person can follow the path of ultimate destruction and destroy his or her relationship with the Divine. It is up to us to choose the path, to have the strength to be holy even when we face the vast unknown.

Parshas Acharei Mos: Wandering Thoughts on Civilization

The dictionary definition of the term “civilization” is, in my opinion, rather funny. According to Oxford Words, it means: “The stage of human social and cultural development and organization that is considered most advanced.” Why is this funny? Because it is based on an incredibly subjective reality. Who, after all, gets to determine what “advanced” means? And yet, for centuries Western “Civilization” has done just that.

 

Perhaps the decline started during the era of the enlightenment, but many would say that it accelerated in the 1960s, when the concept of free expression transformed into a cult of personal liberation. Over the last half a century, however, there has been an increased whittling away at tradition and community that has led to a society in which the adulation of “freedom” has become the be all and end all. This is certainly not everyone – quite probably not even the majority – but it is a voluble minority filled with news makers and cultural idols.

 

We have just completed the holiday of Pesach, the holiday of freedom. Our concept of freedom, however, is not about celebrating our individual identities. It’s not about what “I” want or who “I” am above all other things. This is, in fact, a major aspect of this week’s parsha, Parshas Acharei Mot.”

 

Breaking into personal honesty here, this has always been a parsha that made me uncomfortable. In fact, it was one of my son’s bar mitzvah parshas, and I remember worrying that one of the other children had read it too closely (and, indeed, she did tell me that she read it in English, but asked no further questions). An entire perek of the parsha, perek yud ches, is a description of whose nakedness one shall not uncover. On the whole, it is a summation of the Torah’s prohibition against incest, but it goes farther than that. How we behave in our most intimate moments is a basic foundation of a society.

 

The fact that I felt uncomfortable with this perek was a reflection of many things, and among them was the understanding that the general society in which I was raised was filled with an ever-growing counter-culture that abhors the idea of personal limitations. The 21^st century mores of personal rightness make sense in an advanced technological “civilization” wherein we have a sense of being able to control all things. We “make” meat without a cow. We grow plants without dirt. We build machines that can think. Why would we accept ancient dictates of right and wrong when we obviously know better?

 

Our so-called advanced civilization appears, right now, to be calling for support of terrorist organizations. There is a masochistic urge to support ideologies that diametrically oppose Western Civilization. Our society rejects itself and, particularly among young adults, there seems to be a great self-hatred even as there is a vaunting of the ideal of absolute personal expression.

Something’s wrong.

This year I read Perek yud ches with a different perspective. Societal norms for intimacy – whether adhered to by all members or not but that are recognized and accepted as norms – are foundation stones. The term civilization is built from the term civil, as in civil law. The civil laws in the Torah are known as the mishpatim, and they are often defined as the laws that are necessary for a just society (no stealing, no murder, etc.). The laws in Acharei Mot are mishpatim, even if they deal with the most individual and personal choices of life.

 

It is straight forward and honest. To build a civilization, a place of advanced social and cultural development, one must look to tradition. Hashem gave klal Yisrael a blueprint that sets out rights and wrongs because when human beings start to believe that they know best, ego and hedonism play powerful roles in swaying our perception. Granted the ability to make and create, given our inherent power, we tend to forget that He who created the world, and Who creates the world on an ongoing basis, is the One is the one in charge. It’s not us. It’s not about Me.

 

Good Shabbas

Parshas Metzora: The Beauty in Materialism

A beautiful, new set of freshly toiveld silverware sparkles in my hand as I gently dry it in preparation for the upcoming holiday. I smile, humming as I work because I feel happy that my Yom Tov table will look so pretty. Suddenly I start to wonder about redemption and Moshiach and what my joy in my pretty Amazon purchase bodes for my attitude toward redemption. Am I too attached to my home and my possessions? If Moshiach came now and this Pesach we celebrated the true call of redemption, would I be happy to, or even capable of, picking up and leaving?

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a bracha and an honor to be able to make a beautiful Yom Tov. We use the material to elevate us as we focus on the spiritual. The Torah doesn’t promote ascetisism. It’s okay to own and enjoy nice things, and it is even encouraged to fulfill mitzvos in the most beautiful way.

In an interesting way, we even see this in the roots of Pesach. During the ninth plague, Hashem made certain that we had the nice things. The plague of darkness provided Bnei Yisrael with the opportunity to discover the gold and silver that they would later request from the Egyptians, payment for the years of servitude. They later used that gold and silver, each person of their own desire, to build the mishkan.

It is noteworthy to think about the wealth they acquired. It was both payment and fulfilment. Payment, as in compensation for the generations during which the people were enslaved, and thus could be seen as something earned. Fulfilment, as in Hashem promised Avraham that his descendants would come out of the land of oppression with great wealth – a promise fulfilled; but also fulfillment, as in Hashem gives each person exactly what he or she is supposed to have.

So if Hashem gives each person exactly what they need, does that mean I might need new crystal for my Seder table? Maybe…but then it means it is there for a reason, and I should gain something spiritual from it.

The spiritual and material are inherently connected, and this week’s parsha, Parshas Metzora, makes that point in a particularly fascinating way. The parsha talks about the possibility of tzaraas transferring onto one’s possessions. It’s a very difficult-to-understand concept. In this day and age, unless something is designated as a religious object, we don’t think of the possibility of an inanimate object having spiritual modulation.

Our material possessions, however, are connected to us just as much as we are connected to them. My possessions can reflect a spiritual downturn, as in the case of tzaraas, or they can reflect elevation, as when used for a mitzvah. The question, as with many things, comes down to bechira, free will. If I use my wealth to do mitzvot as beautifully as possible, that underlines spiritual growth. If I use my wealth to build myself up to become either arrogant or, on the other hand, my attachment to materialism makes me jealous or avaricious, then that demonstrates a lack of growth.

There is an interesting Midrash (Vayikrah Rabbah 17:6, cited by Rashi on Vayikra 14:34) that explains that quite often the destruction of a house and possessions because of tzaraas led to the discovery of treasure hidden behind the walls (left by the Amorites, according to the Midrash). Hashem’s aim is not poverty and punishment. Hashem’s aim is to help us draw closer to Him.                                                                                                                                                                        In the fall, we celebrate Sukkot by leaving our homes and moving into “huts,” which demonstrates our faith that Hashem is truly in control. On some level, we leave behind our physical and material security. Right now, however, we are about to celebrate Pesach, to celebrate redemption from slavery, and we do so with a lavish and luxurious seuda in which we are taught to recline like royalty and drink rich wine – we surround ourselves with a physical glory in order to honor what Hashem did for us.

In preparing our magnificent seder tables – or while perusing those over-the-top magazine images of the perfect seder table – we are presented with the empowering challenge of being clear in our intentions. These sparkling new knives bring me joy because they will enhance my Yom Tov, not because they will enhance me, and if – no, and when, Moshiach knocks at my door, I could, if required, walk away from it all.

As we enter this auspicious time, I wish you all a gut Shabbas and the ability to focus on what really matters in this world, and I pray that Hashem will send a speedy redemption for those still held by Hamas and for our entire nation from this dire threat.  

Parshas Beshalach – What About the Walls

Dedicated to those who remain as hostages, may they know freedom soon, and to the brave chayalim who are fighting for Bnei Yisrael.

 

In this week’s parsha we read, about the incredible events that took Bnai Yisrael through the Yam Suf. The description is vividly familiar – waters parted, dry land on which to walk, an army bearing down behind, and walls of water on either side. When we hear of the walls of water, many of my particular generation might conjure up, a little too easily, images from Spielberg’s Prince of Egypt, which was a beautiful imagining but not necessarily how one should learn Torah.

 

There is something very significant about the way Bnei Yisrael walked through the Yam Suf. It is not just that they crossed on dry land, but that the waters formed a wall for them on their right and on their left. This idea was so important that the Torah mentions it twice in the span of a few verses, in Shemos 14:22 and 14:29.

 

There are, of course, the practical understandings brought down in the commentaries. In between pasuk 22 and 29, the Torah describes how the Egyptians entered the Sea and how the waters came crashing back down on them. The second mention of the walls of water is to emphasize the fact that there were still Israelites in the Sea, that Bnei Yisrael hadn’t fully crossed, but that the water remained parted where they were walking.

 

The repetition of these words, however, brought forth thoughts about walls. Walls are protection; they are security. One might ask why the Torah goes through the effort of stating that the wall formed on their right and on their left. Why was it not a wall before them, like a shield preventing water spillage from before them? Why was it not a wall behind them for a sense of security?

 

The most obvious answer is that the Egyptians needed to feel that it was possible for them to follow Bnei Yisrael. This was the way to guarantee their final ultimate demise. As to why not before them… the fact that this is not stated indicates that the Sea split in one grand motion.

 

There is a beautiful metaphor within the imagery of the splitting of the Sea, within the significance of the walls forming to the right and to the left. The way forward is the miracle, the path made by the Divine.  The way backward is not an option. And on either side are walls of water. The water creates a path; it gives shape to the way that the mass of people needs to move forward. In Jewish tradition, water is symbolic to Torah.  The Jewish people are blessed to have the opportunity to surround themselves with Torah and thus be able to find the path forward in life.

 

It is easy to wonder how the people perceived those walls? They must have been stupendous, miraculous. And if you were willing and wanting to perceive the miracle… what joy and splendor awaited.  But what about those who found it so awesome as to be terrifying, perhaps to those of the erev rav whose faith was so negligeable. Then what did those walls look like?

 

We won’t ever know, and so we must delve into the metaphysical understanding of krias Yam Suf.

 

Sometimes in life we feel like we are stuck, that we are trapped in situations that are harmful to us spiritually. And sometimes we are, and we must remove ourselves, must hurry forward. Many times, however, we need to take a look at the walls and see their source, and understand that everything that occurs is part of Hashem’s plan, is the Mayim Chayim of life.

 

Wishing you all a beautiful Shabbas.

Parshas Bo. – Negated Negotiations are Part of the Plan

Last week we passed the 100 day mark of the hostages being held in Gaza and the turmoil of outright war. We have watched in shock when the most simple and obvious international requests – the return of the hostage, getting medicine to our hostages, recognition of truth – are consistently denied or reinterpreted with modifications. But why are we surprised? Is this not, yet again, something we have seen before, something we have seen over and over throughout history.

In the world of our forefathers that we consider ancient times, Egypt was the dominant world power. They set the tone of the world, and the tone they took was that of the upper hand. The Israelites were their slaves. The Israelites were the potential enemy they were controlling. Slowly but surely, however, the Egyptian people realized that the price of keeping the Israelites was not worth it. But their leaders refused to relent. Their leaders refused to offer compromise that could be acceptable. Go for three days but leave your source of sustenance or offerings. Go for three days but leave your elderly and little ones. And even when Pharaoh’s ministers were telling him that it was over, that the time to relent had come, Pharaoh remained obdurate. He compromised and reneged, agreed and broke faith.

Villainy remains villainy throughout time. We are not the first to witness it, but, please Gd, we shall be the last.

In ancient days our forefathers must have looked about and wondered what would be. After all, when Moshe first spoke to Pharaoh, their load was made even harder. Things were tough and getting tougher. It is not rare to hear people question how Gd can allow bad things to happen in the world. If one were in ancient Egypt, one might have wondered why life was so horrid, why slavery and oppression was happening to them. Throughout history we ask why bad things happen to good people, or, on a larger scale, why bad things happen to the Jewish nation if we are Hashem’s chosen people. Certainly, right now, when 90-some percent of the world seems to be wanting to harm our nation, that question sparks beneath the surface. How do lies promulgate when they are so obviously untrue?

At the beginning of Parshas Shemos, Hashem tells Moshe “Come to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart and the heart of his servants, in order that I may place these signs of Mine in his midst, and in order that you tell into the ears of your son and your son's son how I made a mockery of the Egyptians, and [that you tell of] My signs that I placed in them, and you will know that I am the Lord" (10:1-2).

Hashem hardened Pharaoh’s heart is just a statement of Hashem’s omnipotence. The story of the Jews in Egypt was just the start of the necessary journey of all of humanity.

What do the Jewish people represent? We represent God in this world, but not in the way that that sounds; The Jews are the people who taught humanity that we, as creations, owe true fealty to the Creator and not to created gods that appease our need for worship without challenging our morality or, as more recent history has shown, to our own whims and will.

The world has free-will, and the way the Jewish people are treated in the world represents humankind’s metaphysical battle with accepting the fact that Hashem, and not they, are in control. For there to be that free-will, Hashem has to let the world run its course, has to let humankind think that it has power until… until He makes a mockery of them, until he breaks every rule of logic in order to remind us, the people who have dedicated themselves to Him, that there is always a bigger plan that Hashem is involved in.

What does it mean to make a mockery of something? It is to reveal its falsehood. God, through Moshe, showed Mitzrayim just how little power they had and that their Pharoah was as far as could be from a powerful god.

The Jews of the 21st century have the benefit of the Torah and the centuries of history to help us stay strong. Our faith must be stronger than the will of our enemies. Our faith must be stronger than feeling and whims. Our faith must be more than faith; it must be knowledge that Hashem is always in control.

Parshas Vaera: Beyond Hail

Dedicated to the hostages as a prayer for their release after 100 days in captivity. May Hashem bring them home and may we find a path to peace until Moshiach arrives, bimheira b’yameinu.

In Jewish tradition ,the number seven has a great deal of significance. It is, as you probably know, the number that symbolizes nature and wholeness. Nature is one of the most awesome demonstrations of Hashem’s magnificence in the world. The awe that nature inspires can be inspirational, or it can be terrifying. And there are few demonstrations of nature that have the potential to be more beautiful or more frightening than the weather…which is, in truth, why it is actually rather fascinating that it is only at the 7th makka that Hashem involves weather.

Without question the first six makkos were terrifying in their own rights. However, the people of Mitzrayim were able to explain those makkos. After all, the chartumim (magicians) were able to turn water into blood – although to a lesser extent – and could even call up frogs. And lice, insect swarms, dying livestock, and excessively contagious skin diseases were, on some level relatable. As devastating as they were, each plague subsided within a week, and human nature has an uncanny ability to minimize and recategorize events. We know this all too well in our own time…how easily Covid recessed from our minds.

One could say that weather events are the same…naturally disastrous events that we expect to occur on a regular basis. (Didn’t all us Montrealers – and our guests – survive the Pesach ice storm!). The plague of barad, hail, was an altogether different situation. In a land where rain is rare, they saw fire and ice coming down from the sky. This was nature coming undone, and this was the seventh plague.

When the Torah describes the plague of hail in parshas Va’era, there is an interesting phrase used in Hashem’s instructions on what Moshe should say to Pharaoh: “Because this time, I am sending all My plagues into your heart and into your servants and into your people, in order that you know that there is none like Me in the entire earth” (9:14).

This pasuk is worth exploring for its particular wording. What can it mean that Hashem is sending ALL of His plagues when there are three yet to come and there have already been six, and why will these go into the heart?

Perhaps, and yes this is me going out on my own line of thought, one can see in this a connection to the elements: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Earth and Air are constants in the Egyptian world, Fire seems controlled by man, and Water – particularly in a culture dedicated to praying for the Nile water – is divine. When Fire and Water come from the Air and smash into the Land causing utter destruction, nature has been uprooted. Suddenly, it becomes unquestionable that all of the plagues are beyond nature.

Most of us think of Egypt being struck were the English term “Ten Plagues,” but in Hebrew we usually refer to the plagues as makkos, which means strikes. In this pasuk, however, when Hashem says “all of His plagues,” the word used is magefati. Magefah, a more literal plague, is connected to the word goof, or body. It is interesting that Hashem is telling Moshe to use this word right after the sixth plague, which was boils. The first five plagues were external attacks. The sixth was the most like an actual physical plague or illness. This wording was a striking reminder to Pharaoh that Hashem has control over everything, not just the physical world, not just the elements.

And what about the heart? Just before Hashem begins speaking to Moshe, the Torah tells us in 9:12: “But the Lord strengthened Pharaoh's heart, and he did not hearken to them, as the Lord spoke to Moshe.”

Following the sixth plague, the Torah tells us that Hashem strengthened Pharaoh’s resolve. It is inferred that Pharaoh was, perhaps, about to relent. But he was willing to do so because “And the magicians could not stand before Moshe because of the boils, for the boils were upon the magicians and upon all Egypt” (9:11). Pharaoh was finally beginning to understand that he was dealing with a power far beyond what he could even hope to control…but he still did not recognize the ultimate power of Hashem.

Hashem has strengthened Pharaoh’s heart and now Hashem is declaring that He will send all of the plagues into Pharaoh’s heart. There is no escape. There is no rationalizing and scientific theory. There is no accounting for that which has happened and that which is about to happen except for God, and Hashem is declaring through Moshe that now Pharaoh will be forced to come to terms with that.

The seventh plague is a transition. The whole of nature has been overturned. Even the elements have turned against Mitzrayim. It is also the first time that Pharaoh acknowledges the true awe he should have before Hashem: “I have sinned this time. The Lord is the righteous One, and I and my people are the guilty ones” (9:27).

It is human nature to try to explain the world, to try to find scientific explanations for that which we see and experience. Right now, most of us – in our minds, at least – are trying to find logical, rational, explanations for vicious monsters being hailed as hapless victims. The answer, we must remind ourselves constantly, is that Hashem runs the world. That nature and science and logic are all part of the goof’s need to put order to the world. From Shemos 9, however, we have a distinct reminder that the Grand Scheme, from devastating earthquakes to obtuse accusations, are beyond human control.

Parshas Shemos – Who me?

Dedicated as a tefilla for the speedy end to these challenging times.

The fourth perek of Sefer Shemos begins in a seemingly abrupt manner: “Moshe answered and said, "Behold they will not believe me, and they will not heed my voice, but they will say, 'The Lord has not appeared to you'" (Shemos 4:1).

This response comes in the middle of the narrative of the burning bush, and this narrative is well-known for highlighting Moshe’s reluctance to take on the role of leadership. Indeed, he questions his capabilities, and thus Hashem’s choice, both before and after this pasuk (verse):

“But Moshe said to God, "Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should take the children of Israel out of Egypt?... And Moshe said to God, "Behold I come to the children of Israel, and I say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they say to me, 'What is His name?' what shall I say to them?" (3:11,13)

And

“"I beseech You, O Lord. I am not a man of words, neither from yesterday nor from the day before yesterday, nor from the time You have spoken to Your servant, for I am heavy of mouth and heavy of tongue… But he said, "I beseech You, O Lord, send now [Your message] with whom You would send" (4:10, 13).

Moshe’s first response is logical. He was an Egyptian prince; it makes no sense for Bnei Yisrael to believe him. His third response is also logical because he is noting an actual limitation, a speech impediment. It is interesting, however, that this is the verse that most often leads into a discussion of Moshe’s sense of self, of his allowing insecurity to take hold. That discussion seems most appropriate for our originally quoted pasuk, 4:1.

Perhaps you are wondering why it is significant to consider which refusal of Moshe has deeper meaning. The important part, after all, is understanding that at Moshe’s first conversation with Hashem, he tried to remove himself from the position of leader, and thus we can understand that Moshe, though raised as a prince, was a humble person.

But there is significance here. Indeed, the significance stands out from the fact that these are the first words of a perek (chapter). Perek daled begins, literally, with an answer, v’ya’an. But answers are, by nature, the response to a question, or, at the very least, to a statement. So why would this be the place to start the perek.* It certainly wasn’t a worry that a perek would be too long. Perek Gimmel is only 22 verses.

This is the pasuk that shows us the real humanity of Moshe. Not his humility, his humanity. Moshe’s response to this intense set of instructions is to worry, again, that “they will not heed my voice.” He was able to ignore everything else that he was being told. He didn’t question the wisdom of bringing the elders to Pharoah. He didn’t argue about asking to take the slaves out for a three-day holiday, which might seem like a pittance. He didn’t ask why Hashem wanted him to go to Pharaoh if Pharaoh would only reject him and that Hashem knew this.

Moshe’s been given the words to prove himself. He’s been told exactly what will happen. And Moshe still gets stuck on the very first line of God’s instruction: Go to the elders. His question here is a question that every person faces at different points in their lives: What if they don’t hear me? What if they reject me? What if they don’t accept me?

Opportunities for leadership abound (obviously not generally so significant or important as Moshe’s). We see it all the time in our communities where there is such deep need for leadership and so many opportunities to organize tzedakah and chesed outlets. Perek Daled is asking us, each individual, to recognize that when we say, “Who me?” or “Oh someone else will take charge of that,” we are ignoring the fact that Hashem always has a well-laid out plan for us and our own insecurities are often the biggest impediments to letting Him show us His direct involvement.

Moshe was a stranger. Moshe had a speech impediment. But most significantly, Hashem did not let Moshe get stuck on worrying about how others would react to him. This verse, simple as it may be, holds a very important lesson for life.

*This could also turn to a discussion of the history of pasuk and perek (verse and chapter). The Torah was not given to Am Yisrael with these divisions. They were added later, by Christians in the Middle Ages. They have, however become accepted, and so one wonders why it was decided that this was a good place to start a new chapter.

Parshas Vayechi: Go Gad! Go Asher

Dedicated to those who are putting their lives on the line for the security of our people.

In the pursuit of Torah study, the dynamic partnership of Zevulen and Yissachar is one of the most popular topics for discussion. Zevulen, who is represented in Yaakov’s blessings as a ship and a port; it is a distinct reference to commerce. Zevulen’s business acumen partners with Yissacher, who is hailed as a tribe of learning. Zevulen’s wealth supports Yissacher’s learning, and, in return, Yissacher shares the merit of the learning with Zevulen.

The Yissacher-Zevulen dynamic is beautiful, especially for the fact that it continues until this day with a multitude of working men and women giving money to support those who spend their days studying the Torah. It is, for many, the best way they are able to contribute.

The men and boys who spend their days learning Torah are providing a tremendous defensive force for out nation. Over the last three months, however, we have had to look toward a different type of defense, a physical defense. We are, one might say, in an age of Gad.

In this week’s parsha, when Yaakov blesses his sons, his blessings are both definitions of character and prophecies of how each nation will develop, of what their defining characteristics will be. “Gad, a troop will troop forth from him, and it will troop back in its tracks” (Bereishis 49:19).

The commentaries note that the tribe of Gad, which was one of the two tribes who asked to settle on the east side of the Jordan, was designated as the soldiers who led the conquest of the Promised Land, putting themselves forward as a vanguard troop. And, because their homes were on the far side of the Jordan, they were also the rear guard who swept through the conquered territory and made certain to rid the land of any further enemies. We are in an age of Gad.

For almost three months, we have been dependent of troops to provide protection on a physical level (while still, of course, relying on the spiritual impact of those who shield us with Torah study). For many of us in the diaspora, it has been a desperate and frustrating time. There is a great urge to help, to provide, to do, and yet, beyond prayer, it is difficult to feel as if one can give any effectual support.

The Daas Zkaynim has a very interesting commentary on the bracha of Gad. He suggests that Gad, like Yissachar, had a partner. Bereishis 49:20 states, “From Asher will come rich food, and he will yield regal delicacies.” And thus the Daas Zkaynim says:

“‘Troops will be called up from Gad;’ if you were to question how this tribe would secure its livelihood, seeing its men of military age will be conscripted as soldiers? The tribe would obviously have to be blessed with independent wealth in order to succeed. This is why in the next verse we hear about the fertile fields of the tribe of Asher, which would supply also the needs of the neighbouring tribe of Gad. The soldiers’ physical needs would be supplied by that tribe, i.e. he would supply the King’s needs, the King having to pay the soldiers” (translated on Sefaria).

This is chizuk. This is what we have seen across our great nation. Thousands of men and women who have joined the tribe of Asher, who have raised funds and sent supplies and cooked feasts for those who have marched out to fight.

The world right now seems chaotic and confused. Certainly, it feels as if its moral compass has disintegrated. And yet here we stand, Am Yisrael, with each of us filling the roles necessary to keep our people strong.

May we see a resolution to this situation in our favor, and may Moshiach come soon in the right time. Shabbat Shalom

Vayigash - What Do We Do with the Blessings of Hashem?

This week’s parsha is the culmination of the narrative of Yosef in Mitzrayim. He reveals himself to his brothers and is reunited with his father. He actively recognizes, in this parsha, that all that has come to pass was designed precisely to put him in the position to bring the family to Mitzrayim and save them from the famine. “But now do not be sad, and let it not trouble you that you sold me here, for it was to preserve life that God sent me before you.For already two years of famine [have passed] in the midst of the land, and [for] another five years, there will be neither plowing nor harvest. And God sent me before you to make for you a remnant in the land, and to preserve [it] for you for a great deliverance” (45:5-7).

It is common to speak of the subject of Yosef’s ability to find the reason and the benefit to the hardships that he suffered. It is an incredibly powerful lesson to every individual – a powerful reminder that our most difficult challenges may just be pieces of a path that gets us to where we need to be. And given everything that occurred between Yosef and his brothers, his insight and forgiveness is truly remarkable.

This week’s parsha also provides us with a different lesson about Yosef that can be deemed important. Yosef grasped each of the blessings that came his way and made the most of the situation not just for himself, but for everyone around him. Potifar’s household benefited. The prison benefitted. And, of course, the entire country of Mitzrayim benefitted.

Yosef’s greatest strength was - as is noted by the Midrashic reference to seeing his father - his concrete faith and identity, which he managed to pass on to his two sons who were born and raised surrounded by the Mitzri culture. His second greatest strength was his instinct to channel all of the blessings that Hashem gave him – intelligence, charisma, business acumen, and even good looks (never a bad thing in politics) – into that which benefitted others.

Of course, one might argue that being Viceroy of Mitzrayim was pretty good for Yosef, but the truth is that being Viceroy of Mitzrayim meant he had to hide his identity and his faith. He spoke no Hebrew until his brothers came. He lived without anyone who could really understand the faith he held. And he managed, and it could not have been easy, to teach his sons about the people they came from.

It is interesting to note that the history of the Jewish people through all of our wanderings reflects this aspect of Yosef, which is really the blessing of Avraham that those who bless him shall be blessed. We have brought benefit to each land where we have lived (alas, the second half of the story – jealousy, protectivism, oppression also repeats itself).

While most of us will never have the opportunity to attain a position of power like Yosef, that does not mean that we lack our own spheres of influence. Whether that be through a job or in our communities or just in our homes, we must recognize our gifts and use the talents and skills with which Hashem has blessed us for the benefit of those around us.

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Wishing you all a beautiful Shabbas

PARSHAS VAYESHEV - Favorite Son Chosen Nation

Dedication: May we soon see peace once more after evil has been eradicated, and may our soldiers and the captives all come home safely.

I've spent a long day on the road with another ahead of me…so this will be more of a parsha thought than a full dvar Torah.

This week's parsha focuses, at the beginning, on Yosef being the favorite and the reaction of his brothers to this fact. The reaction, as we know, was not positive, but the relationship had purpose and led to Yosef's ultimate role of leadership.

The Jewish people are known as “the Chosen people,” and we refer to ourselves as Hashem's firstborn and beloved. Hashem created all of humankind btzelem Elokim; they are all His children. The Jewish people, however, have a special relationship with Hashem…and the other nations cannot understand the dreams we have, they cannot recognize the tikkun our nation has brought to the world.

Right now, we can relate too well to Yosef. We feel betrayed by the world, thrown into a pit. There are those who have shown us support, but somedays it feels as if the negative pressure is only growing.

And yet it is Chanukah… the time of miracles. It is the time when Hashem shows his hand. Yes, the world tries to crush us for that unique role, but time and time again we do more than survive. We thrive. Yosef went from slave to prisoner to viceroy, all while maintaining a path of righteousness.

There are many discussions about whether the miracle of Chanukah is military or spiritual, but we know that it was both. Showing might does not, as the rest of the world might think, negate spirituality. Yosef, while not militaristic, was a force of great power in Mitzrayim. The key is military might (or political power) while staying connected to Hashem and to our core Torah values.

Parshas VaYishlach – Echoing the Present in the Past

We are all well-aware of the fact there is no land as special as Eretz Yisrael, and as frequently fought over, as the Promised Land. This current, horrible embroilment is just the next step. Not surprisingly, there is something relevant to discover in this week’s parsha.

Parshas Vayishlach begins with Yaakov and his family returning to the Land and coming into confrontation with Esau and a cadre of 400 men. Although there is a great deal of tension and undercurrents, they part in peace – and while Esau invited Yaakov to be closer to him, Yaakov wisely knew that that was a dangerous path.

At the end of the parsha, when the Torah delineates Esau’s lineage, there is a pair of verses that state:

Esau took his wives, his sons and daughters, and all the members of his household, his cattle and all his livestock, and all the property that he had acquired in the land of Canaan, and went to another land because of his brother Jacob. For their possessions were too many for them to dwell together, and the land where they sojourned could not support them because of their livestock. (36:6-7)

This pasuk is strangely reminiscent of the incident that occurred with Avraham and Lot when they returned to the Eretz Canaan after going to Pharaoh’s court in Mitzrayim. Lot separates from Avraham, for their possessions had also become to great to sojourn in the land together.

The duality of Yitzchak/Yishmael and Yaakov/Esau is well known, but when one sees how Bereishis 36:7 reflects Bereishis 13, one realizes that Lot was Avraham’s contrast. Lot is not considered a forefather of any continuing civilization the way Yishmael and Esau are, but perhaps one could say that he was the forefather of an over-all collective of the self-serving who have no strong belief.

What is interesting here is to note that, in history, the descendants of Lot and the descendants of Esau moved away from their claim to the Promised Land. The descendants of Yishmael did not, just as Yishmael himself seems to have remained attached to Avraham and, one might presume, continued to hope for a portion of the Promised Land.

There is no take-away inspiring take away message here. There is only the fascination with the Torah’s continual revelation of history. And that theme continues on a totally different note when one looks at the story of Shechem.

It is almost frightening to point out that the story of the City of Shechem begins with the abduction and violation of Dena, an innocent young lady who went out to visit the local ladies. The king of Shechem, in collusion with his people, presented his violating son as a potential suitor, and the situation ends with Levy and Shimon murdering the men of the town. It seems like “disproportionate” violence, and Yaakov even reprimands them while noting his fear of the neighboring tribes’ reactions. The Torah sheh’ baal peh, the oral Torah, however, makes it quite clear that the entire city was happy to celebrate Shechem’s behavior and therein we know that there was a deep evil rooted here.

Again, there is no call to action in this Dvar Torah. There is only the fascinating information one can discover in the Torah and the inspiration that provides.

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