Vayechi: Death, Blessings, and Life Choices

 

Vayechi – Death, Blessings, and Life Choices

If one were to boil this week’s parsha down to its most basic elements, Parshas Vayechi would be said to be about death and blessings, blessings that all focus on “this will be you when I am gone.” Death and blessings sound like a strange combination of themes as we tend to think of death as the ultimate negative, and even more so when we remember that the name of the parsha translates to “And he lived.”

 

He lived. Yaakov lived. For 17 years Yaakov lived in a land not his own, and, in many ways, he flourished. It was not, one would assume, his ideal life. He was not where he wanted to be as he understood the kedusha of Eretz Yisrael, but it was where Hashem told him that He wanted him to be. It is a sharp contrast to the commentaries surrounding the beginning sentiment of “Vayeishev,” “and he dwelled,” where Yaakov is criticized in the Midrash for settling into complacency.

 

Because Yaakov lived his life in the best way he could for being in a less then ideal state (an ability he had proven already during his sojourn with Lavan), his last years had a tremendous impact. The Torah describes the funeral procession set for him by Paroah and the fact that there was a period of national mourning throughout Egypt. Some of this was a reflection of the nation’s feelings for Yosef, but a reaction so grand only occurs from respect, nay – reverence, for the deceased himself.

 

Yaakov’s choosing to LIVE those 17 years, rather than just accept his altered state, gave him the kochos, the spiritual strength, to end his life in a way that carried his life forward. He focused his ability to see the world on a spiritual plane to provide guidance and shine light on the deeper journey ahead for each of his sons and, thus, strengthening them. Yes, even the blessings that were tochacha were the means of shoring them up against the challenges that were to come. Yaakov on his deathbed focused not on his own end but on the future that was to come.

 

Today is Aseres B’Teves. It is the shortest fast day on the calendar, but it is also noted as the most significant of the minor fasts of mourning the destruction of Jerusalem. Today represents the beginning of the end of what had been an idyllic time when the first Beis Hamikdash was the heart of our nation. We fast to mourn our loss and to spur on teshuva so that we can return, so that Hashem will redeem us. But as this year it overlaps with Vayechi, perhaps we must recognize a different lesson in our mourning.

 

Like Yaakov Avinu, we are not living in our ideal world, we are separated from the greater spirituality, but that is not a reason to live any less. That is not a reason to become complacent, but rather it is a reason to bring that ideal world as close to where we dwell as possible. And this does not apply only to one’s physical location. Yaakov did not live an easy life. From sibling rivalry to in-law troubles, from Rachel’s dying to Yoseph’s disappearance, from trouble with Shechem to famine in Canaan… But he did not let that stop him from living. Often times life takes a hard turn, but it is our job to persevere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Miketz Chanukah Brief piece

 

On the road and not much time…. This will be a one brief thought, please pardon me.

 

This week’s Parsha, Parsha Miketz, focuses on the famine in Mitzrayim. There are many, many commentaries on, well, just about every part of this story. One could say, however, that this is the portion of the Torah in which we really learn that quite often situations that appear to be hardships are stepping stones to that which must come later.

 

It is terrible that Yosef was sold by his brothers to Mitzrayim – but he had to go to Mitrayim in order to save everyone from the famine.

 

It was difficult that he was sent to the home of Potifar, where the plotting mistress lay in wait – but this was where he needed to go to learn the administrative skills that would serve him well in the time to come.

 

It is horrible that he had to experience being falsely accused – but perhaps this was the source of his realizing that the only way to really understand the brothers’ motives was to falsely accuse them and Binyamin in particular.

 

It was depressing that Yosef had to linger in prison for two years, his kindness to the butler forgotten – but that was the butler’s release was not yet the time for the 7 years of plenty and famine to be set underway and in the prison was a time to learn and understand the working of the minds of the Egyptian people.

 

We all have difficult times in our lives that we, perhaps, wish we hadn’t had to experience. Quite often, however, one step – difficult as it may have been – directly correlates to a far great step in our future.

 

On Chanukah, during the short days of winter – when it is often cold and dark – we struggle, sometimes, to see the light that is to come. But when we shed light on the miracles of daily living and of the incredible history of the Jewish people, as we do each night of Chanukah, we are able to be inspired, and we turn to Hashem in praise each day.

 

May we all try to have insights into the challenges we have faced so that we remember to thank Hakadosh Baruch for the struggles as well as the joys.

 

Wishing you all a good Shabbas.

Parshas Vayeishev: Personal Potential

 In this week’s parsha we take an interesting detour from the main narrative to discuss the relationship of Yehuda and Tamar. Obviously from our vantage point we know why their story is important, but its placement interrupting the narrative of Yoseph seems to startle me every year. It is a story that evokes a wide range of emotions. We feel pity and anger and fear at the actions toward and by this young woman, but once we know the complete story, what we feel should be awe. And the complete narrative itself is replete with lessons.

 

The relationship of Yehuda and Tamar is a relationship that isn’t a relationship. Yehuda acknowledges that he is the father of her unborn children, but, as the Torah itself states: “And he did not know her again” (Bereishis 38:26). To be honest, that was a pasuk that always made me sad for her. I felt like they should be truly partnered, for their lives were so bound together, but they weren’t. They were partnered as they were for one purpose and that was the birth of their sons, which was significant for future generations.

 

It is almost impossible not to wonder why these two had to go through such tough times. If Hashem wanted these twins to be born from a union of Yehuda and Tamar, why not just make a shidduch? Why not bring them together in a more direct way? Why did they have to suffer?

 

Really, both of them suffered to get to this point. Yehuda lost two of his sons in the prime of their lives, and while the Torah doesn’t actually relay his emotional state, one can make assumptions from the fact that he kept Tamar from marrying Shelah. It was obviously quite a traumatic experience.

 

Tamar’s suffering came from multiple angles. Quite obviously there was the pain of becoming a widow before even truly becoming a wife. Hopes and prospects dashed not once, but twice. But the rejection for the third son was devastating on a far deeper level. Not only did it imply some level of blame upon her, but it also probably generated gossip and societal rejection. Even more painful was the fact that it put her one great desire out of reach. Tamar wanted to join the family of Yaakov. It was, she believed and knew, her destiny.

 

Yehuda and Tamar are two souls that had a mission together, and that mission was Perez and Zerach. That mission was the generations to come.

 

But we are not just the parents of our children. The narrative of Tamar and Yehuda teaches us something else as well, and that is the importance of process. Yes, their lives were challenging; but, they could not have met their potential without it. They had to dig deep within themselves and meet the potential that they had within.

 

To live up to our greatest potential, we often have to go through turmoil. In order to even start to discover the strength Hashem has given us, we need to look for our true selves. We need to be able to see what we have and what we need to give. Tamar had no interest in playing the harlot, but she knew that she wanted to bring forth the next generation of Yehuda’s family, and so she had to step out of her comfort zone and do something more. Yehuda could easily have saved his pride and denied her markers, but he dug deep and stood up to admit his truth. Both Tamar and Yehuda found their strength.

 

Next week we will light the Chanukah candles. Each night we light another candle. We start with one flame and the light expands from there. We do so to remind us that we only ascend toward holiness, that kedusha must grow.

 

Tamar and Yehuda were individuals who exemplified this idea. They put what was right from a kedusha point of view ahead of any concern about prestige or what things looked like to other people. This could not have happened at an earlier point in time as neither of them were ready, neither of them was able to access that individual power. Once they were, however, they set off a chain of miracles.

 

It is not always easy to look at ourselves as individual pillars of potential, as having within our own selves the power to be great. Very few people I know have lived an easy, stress-free life, but the greatest people I know are those who took those challenges and used it to build themselves, to become more, and to channel the reflection of Hashem into the world.

 

I hope you all have a beautiful Shabbas and a wonderful Chanukah.

Parshas Vayishlach: Asking for a Name

 Parshas Vayishlach: Asking for a Name

 

Do manners matter? It’s a funny question, especially as just about everyone who might be reading this (or listening to it) was, without question, raised on a steady diet of being told to say please and thank you and to hold the door for the next person. Truth be told, though, the etiquette of manners is really dependent on the society in which you live. (For instance, the European kissing of the cheeks of everyone becomes a problem in our community.)

 

Sociological discussions about manners in religious communities would probably focus on that which we call mitzvos bein adam l’chavero. These mitzvos include actions that most of us consider standard behavior – visiting the sick, giving charity, taking care of people in need, hosting guests, and etc. And our traditions are rife with such interactions and considerations. However, throughout Jewish tradition there are references to far more subtle actions that are important to manners and etiquette. Indeed, even to such a simple action as smiling…there are several references to the importance of smiling.

 

In this week’s parsha, Parshas Vayishlach, there is the extremely famous but somewhat perplexing narrative of the wrestling match between Yaakov and an angel. Don’t worry, the good manners are not attacking someone at midnight. At the end of the wrestling match, when the malacha has declared himself bested, he gives Yaakov a new name in response to Yaakov’s demand of a bracha. Yaakov’s response is fascinating in and of itself:

 

“Yaakov inquired and said, ‘Please tell your name.’ He replied, ‘Why do you ask my name?’ And he blessed him there” (Bereishis 32:30). At this point it is obvious that Yaakov’s opposition is not a mortal man, so why did Yaakov ask for a name? Tradition has several answers to this and makes it a point to note that names are sources of power. That is not the point too this dvar Torah.

 

The perek ends with the angel blessing Yaakov…but perhaps that should be restated as the angel blesses Yaakov again. Afterall, the change of name was Yaakov’s bracha, was it not? So why does the angel bless him again. Perhaps because he stopped to ask his name. Yaakov stopped to recognize the identity, so to speak, of the being with whom he was conversing. Yaakov wasn’t intimidated by the nature of his companion, and he bore no grudge to the violence of their initial interaction. He asked his name, and that was significant; that was a recognition of basic respect.

 

Think about the effort that Adam HaRishon put into naming all creatures. Names have significance and meaning. Names have an impact. Names have power, and asking someone’s name immediately makes them feel seen and respected…individualized.

 

The commentator Chizkuni points out on the angel’s response: “‘Why are you asking for my name?’ The angel informs Yaakov that there is no point in knowing his name; he explains that when people that have not seen one another ever, upon meeting, will extend greetings with one another and bless each other wishing each other well, and ask one another for their names, they justify this in the event that they wished to communicate with each other in the future.” Asking for a name means building a bond, but, as almost all the commentaries point out, the malachim have temporary identities that are actually statements of their missions rather than core identities.

 

Nevertheless, that Yaakov inquired, that Yaakov demonstrated his recognition of the malach as unique and significant, even if it was only for his temporary existence, was a moment of derech eretz.

 

Most of us are faced with dozens of opportunities to impact the lives of others on a regular basis. Random people do kindnesses for us all the time, and we don’t even always thank them much less ask for their name. But what of the people who we see regularly, with whom we share regular moments on an ongoing basis – the barrista at the coffee shop, the crossing guard, the doorman, etc. – Perhaps we should be making the effort to learn their names. And even if a person is transient in our lives, as the malach suggested he himself was in Yaakov’s world, there is still, in here, a reminder of meeting their eyes and smiling our thanks and expressing a connection, a recognition of the impact they have made.

 

May we all be blessed with reasons to smile and reasons to be grateful to others.

 

Wishing you all a Shabbas Shalom

Parshas Vayeitzei: The Sisters

We in the 21^st century believe that we have learned a lot about human psychology, about how a person develops in their childhood to become a healthy adult. There are, of course, an extraordinary amount of factors in that process, but we know that, in many ways, we are a reflection of who our parents see us as. It is, therefore, a rather interesting question to ponder just what sort of “dad” Lavan was to his daughters.

 Lavan had two daughters, and life for them does not sound particularly easy. His older daughter Leah was considered not-quite beautiful and was known for being tearful. The Midrash states that she cried often because she knew that she was destined to marry Esau and his reputation preceded him. One wonders, how this information had been presented to her and it is easy to doubt that it was presented in a gentle, caring manner but rather as a fait accompli and now be quiet about it and stop whining. Why can such a crass reaction be suggested, you may ask. Because our text indicates in a rather wide variety of ways, that Lavan viewed his daughters as possessions, as assets, rather than as people.

 You might jump to point out how considerate he was of Leah’s feelings when he worried that the younger should marry before the older, but if he had truly been worried about her feelings, he would never have agreed to Rochel’s betrothal in the first place nor would he have put his eldest in such a fraught position on the night of the wedding. One can, after all, imagine all the ways in which that could have gone wrong!

 Perhaps, one might suggest, there was something in the relationship with Leah that forced him to be more caustic, less caring.  There is, however, a very interesting line that reveals a lot about Lavan as a person and as a father. In Bereishis 29, Yaakov meets Rochel and is smitten. He comes to Lavan, identifies himself (which should have been an indicator of being someone to be greeted with love or respect), and asks for her hand in marriage. Lavan’s response…”Better I give her to you than give her to another man.”

 Wow Dad! Thanks for caring. Tom, Dick, Harry…Yaakov. Ok, you can marry her as long as I benefit.

 With a father like Lavan, it is almost amazing that Leah and Rochel were able to be such loving parents to the flock of children in their household. And, on the other hand, with a father like Lavan, it explains a lot about the behavior of the two sisters in their married home. There is, from both of them, a deep insecurity as to their being loved by their husband.

 While it is made clear throughout the parsha that Yaakov loved Rachel, there is also a distinct feeling that Rachel is not exactly happy. She watches her sister’s brood grow and grows frantic at her own lack. Of course, part of this is because she yearns to be a mother, as many women do, and part of this is because, on a spiritual level, there is a known prophecy that this was the way Klal Yisrael would be formed. However, from a psychological point of view, Rachel may have felt that having children was her way of contributing to the family. As a married woman, it was her “job” to procreate, and she wasn’t doing it. Remember, Rachel was the child that Lavan sent out with the flocks. Rachel had been raised to contribute, to prove herself among the shepherd boys, so that she was a contributing member of the household and thus, perhaps gained favor in her father’s eyes.

 Leah, on the other hand, was sadly too aware that she had to prove her value because her sister was the one Yaakov wanted to marry. One certainly gets the feeling that this was a familiar position. Making assumptions, one could imagine that Lavan believed that Esau, as the eldest son, was going to be the primary heir and so Leah had her value. She may not have been naturally as beautiful, but she was kept from labor so that she was preserved for her future. However, as time went on, Rachel’s work made her, in her own way, as equal – if not more – to her sister in their father’s eye.

 As many children as she had, Leah could never feel confident in her husband’s affection – any level of affection, because all she and her sister had ever known was affection based on value added.

 It would be easy to make this all about Lavan being a bad guy - and, certainly, he was a man of many, many flaws - but his was a common approach to women and family. Indeed, this basic attitude is seen throughout history. Here, now, in the comfortable days of the 21^st century, we have the time and luxury to contemplate such concepts as attachment parenting and the need for emotional affirmations. For most of human history, however, basic life left no room for such reflections.

 It would be wonderful to write that our age of contemplation and reflection has created a situation in which we enjoy a world of confidence and psychological health for all. Alas, most of us are still riddled with insecurities, and each of them individualized to our own personalities. This is what makes us human, of course, just as does the process of learning and growing and overcoming those insecurities. When we study the avos and the imahos, we are empowered to know that they faced such relatable challenges, too, and were able to rise to greatness, even if they still had personal work to do.

 Wishing you all a meaningful Shabbas.

Parshas Toldos: To Go Forward

 The word Toldos, which is the name of this week’s parsha, infers both progeny and that which one hands down to future generations. The parsha focuses on the arrival and growth of the next generation, but it is also about the critical ways in which the future Jewish nation must develop. This concept must be kept in mind as one reads Parshas Toldos, because otherwise, one is often left perplexed at many of the interactions. One of these perplexities is the simply stated “Yitzchak loved Esau because he had a taste for game; but Rivka loved Yaakov.”

 

Beyond the somewhat obvious statement that favortism in a family is a recipe for trouble, it is hard to understand how Yitzchak, who had a unique connection to the divine after his near sacrifice, could favor Esau. The Midrashim explain that Yitzchak believed Esau’s outwardness would make him capable of expanding those who understood Hashem in the world just as Avraham had. At some point, however, it becomes hard to believe that Yitzchak had no intuition that Esau did not care about the family legacy or that Yitzchak could not see Yaakov’s special strengths.

 

The Midrash tells us that Yitzchak loved Esau because he believed in Esau’s potential. Yaakov - if one thinks about what the Torah tells us - was a man of the tents, which implies he was a scholar; Yaakov was already meeting his spiritual potential. He was natural to Yitzchak’s world and, perhaps, Yitzchak felt that he had nothing left to really give to him. It is, one should remember, a primary Jewish concept that we grow to love through giving. Yitzchak was aware of where Esau was lacking and gave his energy toward helping him develop, and thus grew to love him over Yaakov.

 

On the other hand, the Torah, however, tells us rather specifically that Yitzchak loved Esau for the game he provided through hunting. Yitzchak had a reason to favor him. A bond was formed through what he gained. While this sounds like behavior unworthy of one of the avos, it just reminds us that they were human, and the Torah presents reality. People are affected by giving and receiving. There is a reason that even a compliment can be seen as a bribe when dealing with judges in halachos.

 

One cannot, of course, forget the fact that the Torah also states the Rivka loved Yaakov. Was she any less culpable for the difficult dynamic of the family if she too favored one child over another? Perhaps she is, but perhaps it is important to notice how this is written almost as an afterthought. Did Rivka love Yaakov because Yitzchak loved Esau, because as a mother she saw that one of her sons was being neglected? Or did she, perhaps, love Yaakov because he was like his father, because he was already atuned to the life she had chosen? Or, one step further, did she love Yaakov because Esau, in his outgoing worldliness that so enchanted Yitzchak, reminded her of herself and her family?

 

It seems simplistic to say that Yitzchak should have been aware that Yaakov was good, that he was spiritually striving, and that Esau was bad. Good and bad, righteousness and evil, are black and white terms that limit one’s understanding of the world. As wickedly inclined as our sages state that Esau was, they made certain to note that he excelled at the mitzvah of kibbud av, honoring his father.

 

We know that Esau presented a false front. The Torah whitewashes his behaviors in this chapter, but the Midrashim make it clear that Esau was driven by negative impulses to which Yitzchak turned a blind eye. The Torah states that Yitzchak was blind and unable to see, but he had not been blind throughout the twins’ life so as not to be able to see their natures. Yitzchak, in this case, was blind to Esau’s faults because he wanted to see the potential, wanted to believe that Esau could bring his powerful spirit into alignment with the path Avraham had set down. But also, Yitzchak was unable to see his mistake in favoring Esau because Hashem was making certain that all the pieces were in place for the history of the world to move forward, for Yaakov to not only receive the bracha but to be forced to move, and in being forced to move, he was forced to grow up and develop his own strengths.  

 

Yitzchak’s behavior provides and interesting lesson in life in the 2020s. It is simplistic to declare good and evil, both when speaking about Yaakov and Esau and when talking about world politics today. Every nation has nuances, and within that there are usually even more nuances. Esau was, after all, a true master of honoring his father. He wasn’t completely cut off from the Torah world. She c

 

Right now, the world is blind like Yitzchak. The world has grown to accept, if not to actually love, those who act like wild animals in the streets and who spew hatred, sometimes violently, against their neighbors. They see in the anti-Israel factions the opportunity to prove themselves generous in fostering potential for the future. They believe that nations can change their nature if the world just tries to understand them better and believes in their potential goodness – even when they kill and maim and murder.

 

And Yaakov, who sits in his tent and studies or minds the flock, is overlooked

 

For the last many months, the Jewish people have witnessed an assuredly peculiar situation,  watching the world support outright terrorists and politicians of all ilk make excuses for threatening and violent behavior. The twists and turns of truth – such as this week’s declaration by Montreal’s mayor that last week’s protests were peaceful until some ”vandals” got involved just to make trouble – are designed from above to bring things into focus for the Jewish nation. Such obvious ignorance and distortion of truth as pervades today’s media and discussions makes it obvious that everything occurring is yad Hashem, the hand of Hashem, and, therefore, there is a purpose whether we understand it or not.

Parshas Chayei Sarah

 

This week’s Parsha, Parshas Chayei Sarah, could be described as a parsha that is about death. After all, it begins with the death and burial of the matriarch and ends with the death and burial of the patriarch. (That may sound almost depressing, but it cannot be forgotten that in-between is the foundation of the next generation – the shidduch of Yitzchak and Rivka.) As significant as it is to have their passings and their burials recorded, the state of the world today bares a constant reminder of the other critical aspect of this parsha: the acquisition of a burial plot for Sarah.

 The details of the actual purchase of Marat Hamachpela are vital for the Jewish people to know and understand. Avraham’s specifically public negotiations and payment set the tone for all of his descendants. Even while Hashem had promised Avraham that his children and his children’s children, the myriad there would be for generations, would inherit the land, there were right ways and wrong ways to go about it. Avraham’s insistence on a clean purchase, on no solicitous gifts or false faced dealings such as those presented by Ephron the Hittite, reverberates through history and empowers us even today.

 It is interesting to note that Ephron the Hittite is recorded at both the beginning and the end of the parsha. The beginning, when the negotiations are recorded, make sense. Why, however, does the Torah repeat Ephron’s name when Yitzchak and Yishmael bring their father to his final resting place.  “His sons Yitzchak and Yishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron son of Zohar the Hittite, facing Mamre, the field that Abraham had bought from the Hittites; there Abraham was buried, and Sarah his wife (Bereishis 25:9-10).

 The obvious answer is that his name is attached here for clarification, so that no one will be confused about where Avraham was buried. That answer is just a bit too obvious because it would simply be redundant information. Bereishis 23 makes the purchase very clear by the burial of Sarah. We must, therefore, look deeper.

 The Midrash notes in Bereishis Rabbah 58 that Ephron was greedy. His persona is associated with Mishlei 28:22: “A greedy man rushes after wealth; and he does not know that diminishment will befall him.” His diminishment is noted in the Torah in that Pasuk 23:16 “diminished the letter vav from him.”  And while this specific short-form is noted at the end of the negotiations with Avraham, the negotiations in which Avraham demonstrated straight-forwardness and integrity, it should be noted that the short form is also used in the one reference to Ephron in perek chaf-hey. Avraham was willing to pay whatever price was necessary for Machpela, even the bloated evaluation of Ephron the Hittite. Thus stating the contrast between the two and legitimizing Avraham’s purchase of the cave.

 But this set of pasukim in Perek Chaf-Hey catch the commentators’ attention for other reasons. The pasuk states: “His sons Yitzchak and Yishmael...” Proper format, even according to today’s etiquette, is that the name of the elder child goes first. And while we know that Yitzchak was Avraham’s true heir, Yishmael was, nevertheless, his first-born son. A fair number of commentators, such as Rabbeinu Bahya and the Ramban determine from this pasuk that Yishmael has, by the time of his father’s funeral, done complete teshuva. This explanation means that not only did he repent of all his ways, but that he started following his father’s path.

 In doing teshuva, Yishmael needed to do more than just turn his life around. He had to overcome a possibly justifiable sense of righteous indignation at being seconded by a much younger brother. He had to put aside his jealousy at the bracha showered upon Yitzchak. He had to “see” that there was a designated path and accept it. Let’s be realistic, it probably was not an easy thing for him to do.

 Adding in the fact that Yishmael set his pride aside and acknowledged Yitzchak’s position at Machpela reminds us that Yishmael was fully cognizant of the legitimacy of the claim of Yitzchak’s descendants to the Promised Land. However, there is still a lingering question as the why it was necessary to repeat “the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron son of Zohar the Hittite, facing Mamre, the field that Avraham had bought from the Hittites.”

 We have all seen the maps of the Middle East. There are giant splashes of one color and a tiny sliver of another – a provocative reminder of the size of the claim the State of Israel has for a Jewish national holding compared to the size and number of Arab states. By stating this very specific location, the Torah is setting a reminder that we may claim only that which is ours and that we have no need for that which is others. The Jewish nation has no desire for anything more than its homeland, and the fact that it is our homeland – that Yitzchak’s descendants had precedence – was acknowledged and respected by Yishmael, the forefather of the Muslim people.

 Good Shabbas and Mazal Tov Eitan Kelly on you Bar Mitzvah this Shabbas.