In Just Five Verses (Shemos)

The narratives of the Torah, from creation through the Exodus, cover an incredibly intense time period. A lot of things happen and so taking an extra look at where the text focuses can lead to particularly interesting. For instance, the dialogue between Yosef and Yehuda is repeated. On the other hand, moments that one would expect to be discussed in detail are covered only briefly. An excellent example of this brevity is the incident when Moshe slays an Egyptian taskmaster and is called out on it and ends up fleeing Pharaoh and Egypt. All of that takes place in five verses.

11: Some time after that, when Moses had grown up, he went out to his kinsfolk and witnessed their labors. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his kinsmen.
12: He turned this way and that and, seeing no one about, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.
13:When he went out the next day, he found two Hebrews fighting; so he said to the offender, “Why do you strike your fellow?”
14: He retorted, “Who made you chief and ruler over us? Do you mean to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?” Moses was frightened and thought: Then the matter is known!
15: Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters. They came to draw water and filled the troughs to water their father’s flock;

The verses of Shemos 2:11-15 are rather surprising really. From the narrative perspective Moshe has just been set up for a charmed life as the adopted son of Pharaoh’s daughter – and that life is totally ignored in the text because it was all false. Instead, the Torah jumps right into a scene of murder! One almost feels as if one has been dropped into a vigilante movie scene.

These verses, however, are a pivotal moment in Moshe’s life. (Ok, there were a lot of pivotal moments.) One could read this text and cheer at Moshe for stepping up for justice, rather than look at it as his casting away of his Egyptian privilege, but this was the moment that he broke his connection to the Egyptian he was being groomed to be. The fact that the text says he “went out to his brethren” implies his awareness of his connection to the Hebrews. Interestingly, the Torah does not reveal exactly how much he understood this connection. At this point in his life he might have felt only the vague connection of knowing he was of Hebraic origin or he might have really wished to know his biological family. Perhaps he was drawn to his heritage but did not know how to come closer to the Hebrews  since his position in life was so far from theirs.

In a way, it is reminiscent of the position of so many Jews in the last few generations who were raised away from their heritage. Many have sought a way to connect, but not all of them were able to take those steps.

In a book based on the commentaries of the Ramchal, there is an interesting idea that explains that the reason that Pharaoh wanted to kill Moshe was that when Pharaoh heard that Moshe had spoken the holy name of God (Midrashic explanation for how the taskmaster died), Pharaoh understood that Moshe was still attached to the kedusha (holiness) that was an anathema to the avodah zarah that was the foundation of Egyptian life. First, he recognizes his connection to the Hebrew slaves, his brethren, then he connects to kedusha.

But the next day, his sudden elevation to a connection with the Jewish people is not met with warmth. When he comes upon the quarreling Hebrews, he is rejected, pushed away and rebuked. Shouldn’t the men have been somewhat welcoming? You might respond that they were upset and were interrupted in the midst of arguing, but they appear to present a unified reaction against Moshe. You might presume that they responded in fear, but a frightened person would not be so confrontational. No, these two men were stuck in their places and were thus resentful and angry that a man they wished to perceive as Egyptian was showing such a deep connection to kedusha. Here was a man who was not afraid to stand up to the Egyptian world in which he had been raised, here was a man who looked at the Jewish world and saw brethren. Alas, it is easy to live a Jewish life and be afraid of the passion of another person. If we are honest, it's something that we see in our own era and not just in reactions to baalei teshuva and gerim but often to people who are judged as extreme in their observance.

So why was this important moment so sparsely discussed? I can't answer that. But I can enjoy this opportunity to speculate :).  

When Jacob Summoned His Strength (Vayechi #1)

This week completes the annual reading of Sefer Bereishis (the Book of Genesis). A great number of important events occur in these final chapters, all of which have profound and lasting impact on the Jewish people. In a quick summary, Vayechi contains the blessing of Ephraim and Menasheh, the gathering of the 12 sons at Jacob’s deathbed, the prophetic blessings of the 12 sons by their father, Jacob’s death, and Joseph’s fulfilment of his promise to bury his father in the Land of Canaan. 

All of these topics are fascinating, but let us look at the interesting introduction of the first blessings: “It was after these things that Joseph was told, ‘Your father is ill.’ So he took with him his two sons, Menasheh and Ephraim. When Jacob was told, ‘Your son Joseph has come to see you,’ Israel summoned his strength and sat up in bed” (48:1-2).

At first, this line strikes an emotional chord in me. Jacob is old, he is sick, and he knows he is dying, but when his son comes, he makes a great effort to pull himself together. Many commentaries, including Rashi, explain this action as respect for the high station that Joseph had achieved, second to the king. Other commentators pointed to it being a demonstration of the importance of what he was about to say. For instance, the Daas Zikanim stated: “He [Jacob] did not wish to bless his sons while bedridden, as he said that the blessing of a person clearly on the brink of dying would not be considered as having been given by someone in possession of all his faculties.”

Perhaps, however, it is also a hint to the deeper relationship of Jacob and Joseph. For Joseph, whose final years of youth he missed, Jacob still felt a need to appear strong. Or, perhaps, he worried most about how Joseph would react to seeing him old and feeble since he was aware of the great tragedies Joseph had suffered and how much his youthful relationship with his father had meant to him.

Kibbud Av v’Eim, honoring your father and mother is not only one of the ten commandments, but it is a mitzvah for which there is a great deal of explicit halachic conversations. It is a mitzvah for which Joseph is often greatly praised, and perhaps here we see the beautiful depth of their relationship.

About Genesis 48:1-2, Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch writes:

48:1 - Above, where Jacob wants something from Joseph, he has him called. Here, where he wishes to give something to Joseph...he simply has him told “your father is ill.” He is not to be called, he is to come as a child, in the feelings of a child when he hears that his aged father is ill, and at this opportunity Jacob gives him that which he has to apportion him. Jacob, even when he is giving the highest gift, does not make much of a parade of it.

48:2 - Joseph does not know how his father is and does not wish to excite him, so he has him told just casually that he is coming to visit him, and only then has him told that he is there.  

In many ways, Genesis is a strange narrative of the beginning of the Jewish people. The relationships within are anything but simple and are often far from ideal. Jacob is in no way painted as the perfect father, particular in his actions favoring one child over the others. These two verses, however, teach a subtle but beautiful lesson about how wonderful a mature parent-child relationship can be.

There is, however, something else about these verses that grabbed my attention, particularly the second verse: “When Jacob was told, ‘Your son Joseph has come to see you,’ Israel summoned his strength and sat up in bed” (48:2).  Another way of looking at these verses is that Jacob the father was told that his son had arrived, but Israel - the force of the Jewish nation - knew that now was the time to pass on the strength and vigor of the children of Abraham.  This is why, in the middle of one verse, the name changes from Jacob to Israel. The sickly body of Jacob is invigorated by the soul of Israel to make certain that the holy covenant is passed down properly to the next generation.

Please Hashem, let me have the strength of character to have an ideal type of relationship with my children and that I can be a proper conduit of the beautiful blessings of my Jewish ancestors.

Stronger Because of You (Vayigash #1)

“And the news was heard in Pharaoh’s house saying: ‘Joseph’s brothers have come.” Pharaoh and his servants were pleased” (45:16). Thus concludes the reunion of Joseph and his brothers.

This simple, seemingly transitional, verse tells us a great deal about the respect that Joseph earned in Egypt. From the narrative of the Torah, one sees that he was an outstanding politician, and while, like all politicians, he obviously knew how to handle people and deal with authority, he also displayed tremendous foresight for the benefit of those under his care. Joseph is described as a fair leader and a man who maintained his morality even in difficult times. Such inner strength is a character trait that I think most of us wish to see more of in our modern political leaders.

Another frequently discussed theme of the story of Joseph is his unwavering emunah (faith). Even as he is reunited with his brothers, deep in an emotional moment, he affirms his belief that everything that has occurred to him has been part of God’s plan. It is, in truth, a level of emunah that I think many Jews today deeply wish to attain but certainly feel far away from.

There is tremendous power in the apex of this narrative - the moment when Joseph reveals himself. This section of the Torah builds to an incredible sense of anticipation: “Joseph could no longer control himself before all his attendants, and he cried out, ‘Have everyone withdraw from me!’ So there was no one else about when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. His sobs were so loud that the Egyptians could hear, and so the news reached Pharaoh’s palace” - 45:1-2). 

Perhaps we could look at this text with a different perspective than simple family reunion: How relieved Joseph must have been to finally be among his own people. Not just the joy of being reunited with his brothers, not just the excitement of seeing his father, and not just the affirmation of his belief that God had a plan, but rather the recognition that finally he would be among people who shared his beliefs, his culture and his language. In fact, the Midrash (Genesis Rabbah 93:10, cited by Rashi) relates that Joseph revealed himself to his brothers in Hebrew.

Recently I attended a four-day course in London. There was one other Jewish participant at the program, a delightful woman from El Salvador who was strongly affiliated but not specifically religious. As much as I enjoyed the program, I spent a significant amount of the mealtimes explaining to people why my meals were different, a conversation that often segued into larger discussions about religious beliefs and traditional life. It was fascinating for me particularly in that, as an East Coast Jew, I am used to people knowing at least a little something, but many of these international students had never seen special kosher meals before. And while I have always enjoyed being an ambassador of Judaism, arriving at my hosts’ home for Shabbat was a great relief. I was now in my natural element, where I didn’t have to explain my food choices, or why I didn’t shake hands, or feel as if I stood out for my way of dress.

Joseph did take on the semblance of an Egyptian while he lived in Egypt, but one can imagine that he never felt as if he was in his own skin, so to speak. Even as he rose through the ranks, he was always, in his own mind, an outsider. And the only way that he could shed that feeling of being different was by being together with his own kind. Revealing himself to his brothers was not just a joy, but it was also an internal pleasure of simply acknowledging one’s true self.

Joseph’s life in Egypt is a journey that most people today can relate to. Most of us live in foreign lands, and we have grown up steeped in two cultures - our Jewish world and our national identities. Most of us are not rising political leaders, but all of us have an obligation to remember our values, our morals, and our faith, no matter what situation we are put in. As important as this inner strength is, however, we should never forget the necessity of the strength we gain from being part of a community.

Perhaps one could look at Pharaoh’s reaction to the news of the arrival of Joseph’s brothers in a different light. Pharaoh and his servants knew that they could trust Joseph, knew that he was working for their benefit and that he took his responsibilities seriously. Perhaps now they saw that Joseph would be an even stronger leader for having reconnected with the Children of Israel.

Impact (Vayetzei)

The second verse of this week’s parsha begins “Va'yiphgah Bamakom, and he [Yaakov] came upon the place. . .” (28:11). If you are reading the parsha in English, this language may not seem strange, but the word va'yiphgah is actually a bit odd. In fact, if one were to look the root pey gimmel ayin in a Hebrew dictionary, one would find a strange assortment of translations, ranging from encountering someone to being hurt or struck. (Indeed, in modern usage, a piguah is an unexpected attack.)

The implication of the word yiphgah in the context of encountering someone is that of an unexpected meeting. It is what we today might call “bumping into someone,” which explains how it can also mean being hurt. There is an element of impact to the meeting.

Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch actually brings this idea by stating that the phrase Va’yiphgah Bamakom “cannot simply mean he chanced to come to a place…[it] never mean just a meeting, but always a meeting where the one makes an important impression on the other. Hence it is also used for the intentional going to meet with weapons, or to make a request, to attack or to urge. So that here, too, it must have been a place to which he had been meaningfully attracted and held.”

The rest of the chapter of the text describes Yaakov making a pillow of stones for himself, going to sleep and dreaming of angels travelling up and down a ladder that stretches to Heaven. This is followed by a promise of Divine protection. Until this moment, Yaakov has been Yitzchak’s son. And while he has secured the birthright and received his father’s blessing, this is his first direct encounter with Hashem and the moment when it seems fully determined that he can be the heir to the blessings of Avraham and Yitzchak. Certainly, this fulfills Rav Hirsch’s understanding of the place having a striking impact upon Yaakov!

The words of the Torah are written for all generations, and I cannot help but think that the term yiphga has its own resonance in our own time. Yaakov’s arrival at the place of his dream has an impact on the entire history of the Jewish people and therefore the world. Yaakov wakes from his dream and recognizes the holiness of the place and vows that if all that he has dreamt really does come to pass then he will accept God as his Divine Master - which is what happened.

How often are we in our own lives given an experience that could and should impact us, but we allow the opportunity to build our connection with Hashem to dissipate. Perhaps we can learn from this section of the Torah that when we encounter an unexpected moment or place of holiness, we must grab on to it and let it make a lasting impact upon us.

The History Lesson That Never Ends (Parsha Toldos)

Although it is a basic tenant of traditional Judaism that there are no words wasted in the Torah, many of us can recognize certain passages that we glance over because they seem simple or too familiar. One such is the narrative of Isaac and Rebecca travelling to Gerar - perhaps because it is the third iteration of “my wife is my sister” - and the detailing of the activity around wells being dug by Isaac’s servants. It is all the more easily passed over as it is sandwiched between the exciting narratives of the sale of the birthright from Esau to Jacob and the drama of Isaac’s blessings to his sons.

But the events are not without significance, and, like all of the Torah, this section has an impact even unto our generation. After their full identity as a family was discovered, “Avimelech commanded all the people saying: ‘He that touches this man or his wife shall surely be put to death’” (26:11). Then Isaac settles and grows wealthy, which seems to cause a chain reaction: “The Philistines became jealous of him. And all the wells which the servants of his father had dug in the days of Avraham his father, the Philistines had closed them up and filled them with earth. Avimelech then said to Isaac: ‘Go away, for you have become much greater than us’” (26: 14-16). Isaac accepted Avimelech’s request, left the city and continued to be harassed. He dug a well and the Philistine herdsman - not the men of the city who had seen him grow wealthy - claimed it as their own. This happened twice, and then “he moved away from there and dug another well, and over that they did not quarrel” (26:22).

Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, writing with his 19th century perspective, commented thus on the Philistine hostility: ...How the envy and jealousy of the nations who find the Jews well-to-do....send them out of their countries – may form not the least of God’s method for our salvation. Who can tell how easily Isaac, in the hustle and bustle of managing his great wealth, and in the prominent civic position he won through it, might not have given himself up to it more than would be seemly for the son of Abraham and the nearer of his spiritual heritage, had not the jealousy of the Philistines driven him again into isolation...

The message Rabbi Hirsch was communicating is clear. It’s one we have seen replayed over and over throughout our generations. A nation invites us in or welcomes Jewish settlement, but when we get too comfortable or wealthy...then we are not only expelled, but all that we have done that has benefited that nation is forgotten or credited to others.

It would be lovely if this was a new thought, but it was hard to look at this week’s parsha and not think about anti-Semitism and the uncertain times we are facing right now where every other Jewish social media article is about the anti-Semitism on both sides of the political spectrum. And yet, the fate of our people to be subjected to the trauma of national rivalry is not only in the parsha in Isaac’s dealings with Gerar, but both at the beginning and end of the parsha as well.

Parshas Toldos opens with Rebecca conceiving twins who struggle so fiercely in utero that she seeks Divine guidance on her troubles. The response she receives is that: “Two nations are in your womb. Two separate people shall issue from your body. One people shall be mightier than the other, and the older shall serve the younger” (25:23). This is the first prophecy of the national rivalry to come.

At the end of the parsha, Isaac gives his sons the following blessings:

To Jacob: “Let peoples serve you, and nations bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers, and let your mother's sons bow down to you. Cursed be every one that curses you, and blessed be every one that blesses you” (27:19).

To Esau: “And by your sword shall you live, and you shall serve your brother; and it shall come to pass when you shall break loose, that you shall shake his yoke from off your neck” (27:40).

Once again, national rivalry is predicted.

In a recent online conversation in a more political group, a poll was taken asking what members believed was responsible for the recent increase in anti-Semitism. The answers were all political - ranging on both sides of the spectrum. Perhaps the answer is far less simple. Anti-Semitism is so nonsensical, so hypocritical, and so ceaselessly pervasive that it can only chalk it up to Divine plan ... Trying to intellectually dissect anti-Semitism leads to madness.

Our great ancestors did not know that they were setting a pathway for history - if they had they could not have functioned as human beings. But we have the tools to look back and see how the world has been structured. When the people of Gerar and the herdsmen of Gerar acted from envy and jealousy, Esau and Jacob were not small children. They were with their parents. They were witness to the actions of the world, and who knows what lessons Esau learned from their actions about how to win, how to acquire, and how to drive an enemy away. These are the tools his descendants use to bring themselves to ascendance. While we are dealing with the rage of Ishmael (a subject for another time), we are seeing Esau struggling to remind us what happens when we do not live up to our precious birthright blessing.

Bringing Opposites Together (Chayei Sarah #1)

When my husband and I were dating, we often joked about certain parts of our personalities that made us different. I was the “Capricorn” (Hebrew month of Tevet) to his “Cancer” (Hebrew month of Tammuz), which we most often saw defined as head-over-heart and heart-over-head. In many ways we were an excellent case of “opposites attract.” Similarly - sort of - the courtship story of Isaac and Rebecca, which begins in this week’s parsha and continues next week, is about a Divine pairing of opposites. It is also a narrative from which our current society can learn a beautiful and important lesson.

Of the three patriarchs, Isaac is the one about whom there is the least text in the Torah. He is a man of steadiness. Unlike Abraham, his father, and Jacob, his son, Isaac made no grand journeys. The furthest he travelled was to Gerar, a city where his parents had already made an impact. Isaac was the son of a man known for his acts of chesed, loving-kindness, and a woman renowned for her wisdom and modesty. His persona is of an introvert, focused on preserving his father’s legacy. Holding onto a traditional path, he wanted to pass what he had on to his eldest son. Isaac is considered in Judaic texts to be the embodiment of the middah of gevurah, inner strength.

Rebecca, on the other hand, is a woman of movement and change. The daughter of an avaricious con man (according to the Midrash), she did not let her family’s corruption hold her back. Nor did traditions constrain her. When a man (Eliezer) spoke to her at the well, she immediately responded, provided him with water, and brought water for his camels. She doesn’t hesitate to follow Eliezer to marry a man she’s never met. When her twins fight within her, she demands an answer why, and when she sees a need to correct the path of events (who should receive the blessing) she takes action to correct it.

It seems that Isaac is head-over-heart and Rebecca is heart-over-head. This is significant because their union brought about the creation of Jacob, who is known as the embodiment of tiferet, splendor - a blending of gevurah and chesed that leads to emes, truth.

After the terrible tragedy in Pittsburgh this past week, there was a tidal wave of finger-pointing articles. Perhaps in the wonderful union of Isaac and Rebecca we can learn a lesson that will bring people together. From the bringing together of Isaac, a conservative, and Rebecca, a liberal, the splendor of truth could be born, and from the man of truth came the Jewish nation, whose purpose is to be a holy nation and light unto the world.

In the wake of tragedy - may our people have no more - let us be inspired by Isaac and Rebecca and come together as the family that we truly are.

Passing Judgement on Nations (Vayera #1)

Do we have a right to assess the values of another nation? Ok, conventional wisdom says absolutely not and that our judgement is blurred by our own cultural biases, but what about from a Torah point of view? The answer to this is not straightforward, but Parshat Vayera can provide us with some very interesting insights. 

The first outside culture dealt with in this week’s parsha is the infamous Sodom. The second half of Genesis 18 contains a curious dialogue in which Hashem tells Avraham that he has decided to destroy Sodom and Amarah, and Avraham argues with him: “Will you end the innocent along with the guilty?” (18:23). Avraham, being a natural people person and a man whose greatest characteristic is chesed (loving kindness), assumes that the region cannot be ALL bad. He then attempts to find some salvation for the city in which his nephew has settled. He slowly whittles his plea from 50 innocent people to 10 innocent people, but Hashem assures him that there are not even 10. Avraham has no further argument left.

Why did Avraham try so hard? He wasn’t ignorant of Sodom. He had interacted with its people, with its king. He lived close enough to hear of the nasty customs that, according to the midrash, ran the gamut of punishing those who tried to help the poor to torturing guests who sought lodging in the city. And yet Avraham still believed he could find innocence.

The second outside culture that is encountered in this week’s parsha is that of Gerar, a small Philistine kingdom to the south ruled by a king known as Avimelech. This is Avraham’s first mentioned interaction with Avimelech and the people of Gerar. Perhaps because he is moving south, the same direction as Egypt where he had discovered the pernicious character of their king when it came to beautiful women, Avraham once again introduces Sarah as his sister rather than his wife (although it did cause him a bit of trouble previously). When Avimelech claims the beautiful Sarah, Hashem comes to him in a dream and corrects him. The next morning Avimelech confronts Avraham with a sentence that I found rather intriguing: “What did you see that you did this thing?” (20:10).

Avimelech assumes that there is a reason that he and his people were deemed untrustworthy by Avraham. And Avraham had reasons, but they were based, perhaps, on his understanding of Egyptian culture rather than Philistine culture. Avraham’s response is a mixture of apology and explanation: “Because I said, there is no fear of God in this region and they will slay me on account of my wife” (20:11).  (Concept inspired by commentary of Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch). Indeed, Avimelech demonstrates a true and genuine fear of God.

In parshat Vayera, we learn that it is human to judge others. God did not rebuke Avraham for trying to hide Sarah from Avimelech, He simply intervened, and no one came to harm. And although Hashem proved to Avraham that the society of Sodom really was rotten unto its core, Avraham is certainly presented as praiseworthy for his attempt to save “even ten.”

Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch has a beautiful insight on Genesis 18:23, when Avraham asks God if he would ruin the righteous with the wicked: “Avraham put himself in the place of such an innocent person [the possible one among the many wicked] to be saved in the midst of the general terrible catastrophe. He feels what he would feel in such a position….and now he ventures to express the thought - whether perhaps the pain which the righteous would have to endure at seeing the terrible destruction of their fell-citizens all around them might not be worthy of consideration….”

Nations have character. The jokes about Irishmen, Germans, and even Jews, all have a morsel of truth, which is what makes them funny. Avraham made an assumption about the people of Gerar because of his experience with similar cultures - he was wrong about their lack of fear of God, but not wholly wrong about how they might behave. And Avraham was unable to see the  all-encompassing wickedness of the people of Sodom because he could not possibly relate to it, and so he tried to find merit for them. (Perhaps this is the Biblical source for those who so blindly try to excuse the violence of our enemies.)

As the Jewish nation, the Chosen People, we must learn many lessons from our great ancestors. We cannot blur all other nations into one. The Philistines were not like the Egyptians, even though they shared some cultural traits. At the same time, we have enemies, alas, and we must not assume that they view the world in the same way we do, as Avraham hoped for at least someone in Sodom.

There is only One Judge in this world, only One who can assess the ratio of goodness to evil, and the only One who can direct us to the right actions to take.

Avram, Lot and the Challenges of Differences (Lech Lecha)

Have you ever thought about the relationship of Avram or Lot? It seems almost a tangent to the unfolding of the history of the Jewish nation. Certainly, Lot is important, as is pointed out by commentators after the destruction of Sodom - he was the forefather of Moab and thus one of the progenitors of King David. Prior to the destruction of Sodom, however, one might wonder about the importance of Lot. Reading the narrative of Genesis 13 one realizes that part of the necessary development of Avram was recognizing the character flaws of his nephews and dealing with the need to let him go.

First, of course, there is the obvious Dvar Torah material: Avram asks Lot to split from him because he disagrees with Lot allowing his shepherds to graze on the lands of the Canaanite and the Perizzites. There are many important lessons one can learn from this - particularly in the age of copyright infringement...but the perek has several less obvious but equally striking details.

Lot is introduced into this perek with “V’gam, And also to Lot, who went with Avram...” (13:5). All these things (going forth from his land, finding Canaan in a state of famine, going down to Egypt and all that occurred there) happened with Avram and Sarai, and also Lot went with them. The verse concludes, however, by stating that Lot now had sheep and cattle and tents. Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch points out that the final word, “and tents,” is written in complete form to infer that Lot had “ceased being a member of Abraham’s household, had his own independent circle in which he was master of the house.” This, according to Rabbi Hirsh’s comments on the next verse, is why the land could not support all of them - because they were two different households with two different life missions. Whereas Avram raised sheep and cattle for sustenance, Lot raised them for wealth.

When Avram approached Lot to resolve the situation, he said to him: “Let there be no strife, please, between me and you, between my shepherds and your shepherds, because we are ‘brothers.’ Is not the whole land before you? Separate, please from me. If you go left, I will go right; and if you go right, I will go left” (13:8-9).

While Avram literally asks Lot to go away from him, he does so in a way that implies a desire for a connection to remain. He does not refer to his relationship with Lot as “kirovim, relatives,” but rather as “achim, brothers.” This sets a tone of equality in their relationship, even though one assumes that since Lot is the nephew, he is younger and has basically spent his life following Avram. Indeed, v’gam Lot tells us that the material possessions to which Lot is so dedicated are his only because he was part of Avram’s party.

Avram recognizes that Lot and he have different philosophies about life and that Lot is not then interested in change. He knows it is best to send Lot away, but he also hopes that Lot will someday change his stripes and look at the world through a more spiritual lens. Rashi points out that his wording “If you go left, I will go right; and if you go right, I will go left” is Avram’s way of telling Lot “Wherever you settle down, I will not go far from you and I will stand by you as a shield and as a helper.” This idea reminded me of the advice stated in Talmud Sanhedrin 107b: “Let the left hand repulse but the right hand always invite back.”

Lot, of course, proves his materialistic drive by looking at the land around him with a whole new perspective (“Vyisah Lot et ainav...Lot raised his eyes and saw,” but he had already been dwelling in this place, implying that he saw it in a whole new way - in this case with an eye of possession or greed).

Lot departs, and suddenly God visits Avram and tells him to perform an act very similar to Lot, to lift up his eyes and look out over all of the land. God then reaffirms his promise of offspring to Avram. Why? Because Avram is human. He has emotions. He is sad that he has had to ask his nephew to separate from him. As much as he believes in God’s promise of lineage, he somewhat perceived Lot as his successor. Lot was the youth who dwelled among his tents. But Lot lifted up his eyes and saw the “well-watered plain of the Jordan Valley” - he saw wealth ready and there for the taking.  Avram, on the other hand, raised his eyes and saw potential, and God told him to “get up and walk the land” - to take action so that all that the land possessed, all of its spiritual wealth a well as its physical grandeur, could be his.

Humans, Not Animals (Noah)

The generation into which Noah was born was a generation of corruption. Throughout rabbinic literature and Biblical commentary, one can find discussions of what it means that the people had become corrupted. They stole from each other. They took each others’ spouses. They were violent in their dealings. But one of the most interesting Midrashim is one that explains that God decided to wipe out ALL flesh (kol basar, not just all of humankind) because man’s behavior had begun to corrupt the behavior of other species. I am not going to explore the details of what behavior this midrash is inferring, but it goes along the lines of interspecies cohabitation and such.

So how could humankind have such an influence over animal-kind. How did man corrupt beast? The fact is that we do not (and perhaps cannot) understand humankind’s relationship with animals before the flood. In one particularly interesting set of verses in parshat Bereishis, Hashem determines that “it is not good for Adam to be alone; I will make a fitting helper for him” (2:18). Hashem then brings all of the animals to man “to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that would be its name...but for Adam no fitting helper was found” (Bereishis 2:19).

According to one Midrash, Adam lived closely with the animals, which is why he was able to name them. Only when it was obvious that Adam was different from all the rest did Hashem create the division of Adam and Chava, so that now they were a pair. And while God gave them dominion over the land and the animals (“Be fertile and increase, fill the earth and master it; and rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and all the living things that creep on earth” - 1:28), perhaps they were still closer in nature to the other creations. Indeed, perhaps this is why they could communicate with the snake.

There are lots of current discussions about what separates humankind from animal-kind, and the list of abilities often include speech and reason and discourse. Speech and reasoning and discourse...is it possible that these distinctions were the result of eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad?

Perhaps the generations just before the flood could have such influence over the animal kingdom because they did not distinguish themselves from them. After the flood, however, Hashem gives Noah and his family a new understanding of their relationship with the animals they had just preserved: “The fear and the dread of you shall be upon all the beasts of the earth and upon all the birds of the sky – everything with which the earth is astir– and upon all the fish of the sea; they are given into your hand. Every creature that lives shall be yours to eat; as with the green grasses, I give you all these” (9:2-3).

It is very hard for us, today, to understand both how Adam could have named the animals and how the animals could have been corrupted by a generation (and, one could add, how Noah and his family dwelt in a boat with all of the animals). Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsh points out that herein: “the attachment between man and animal is broken. Animals fear man, he is no longer their guiding master. Man has unlearnt [sic] to understand animals and they keep fearfully away from him.” He later adds, “the bond between humankind and the animal world is torn, and humankind is primarily directed to work on itself and for itself.”

These ideas are particularly fascinating in the 21^st century, in a world where people might have …an emotional support squirrel? PETA? Equivocating animal rights to the Holocaust and perceiving animals to be no different than humans? If world history is an arc, with the end being the coming of Moshiach, and we are in the final centuries before the messianic era, than perhaps there is a reason that people are once again blurring their understanding of the difference of humankind (made in the image of God) and animal-kind.

Sukkot and Our Miraculous Life

There are many Divrei Torah about the correlation of the Sukkah to the Ananei Hakavod, the Clouds of Glory that sheltered Bnei Yisrael as they travelled through the Wilderness. It is a commonly stated midrash that the Ananei Hakavod protected Bnei Yisrael from their enemies, absorbing arrows and obstructing the Israelites from view, and that it helped maintain a temperate climate. According to one Dvar Torah, the clouds also altered the landscape they were traversing to make it easier on them, smoothing the path before them. It was pointed out, how this also changed the point of view of the Children of Israel.

In the journey through the wilderness, one generation gave way to the next and by the end of their 40 years in the desert, there remained only a few extraordinary figures who could truly recall their exodus from Egypt and slavery, the ten plagues, or even standing at Mount Sinai. This generation grew up with water from Miriam's well and manna from heaven. They were literally raised on miracles. However, because they were completely surrounded by the Clouds of Glory, because they couldn't see the rocky terrain or the steep hills and valleys, or feel the burning, they could not see how miraculous their existence was.

The Dvar Torah went elsewhere from here, but the sense of the generation’s entitlement was rather intriguing. A statistic mentioned in the recent 175th anniversary edition of The Economist noted that over that period of time, "the share of people living below the threshold of extreme poverty has fallen from 80% to 8%..." This reminded me of how, when reading out loud to my children, I tried to stress passages such as that in Little House on the Prairie where Laura Ingalls was delighted that she received a spoon for Christmas. If I tried to give any of my children the gift of a spoon, their reaction certainly would not be deep-seated gratitude.

Bnei Yisrael in the wilderness had the stories of the personal experiences of their parents and the tremendous leadership of Moshe, in addition to the miracles with which they lived, and STILL they struggled not to rebel. For us, so very many generations after Mount Sinai, the struggle is even greater. In the wilderness, they were learning this new Torah and it was clear that they were on a journey to somewhere (the Promised Land). Plus they were involved in the constant avodah of the Mishkan (service in the Tabernacle).

Today, in the vast expanse of the diaspora and after years of exile, when there have been constant attacks on our people, both aggressive and passive (the pull of assimilation), it is, perhaps, surprising that we are even still here. Indeed, from a material perspective, we are thriving.

We live in a miraculous age, and yet we are all so easily oblivious to these miracles. This is the holiday of Sukkot. When we take ourselves out of our homes and live in temporary huts, reminding ourselves that God has been the One to provide. This Sukkot, as we adjust out heat lamps (or our air conditioners), set out our fancy china and lush silver, sit down to exquisite meals, or shake our personally owned set of arba minim (owned for more than just the moments of doing the mitzvah), let us all remember that the wealth of the era in which we live is also of Divine making.

Generations and Individuals (Haazinu)

A common term in the Torah is the word "dor," meaning generation. One often gets the sense that, from a Torah perspective, each generation is considered unique. Sometimes the difference between generations is great; sometimes it is subtle. It is also part of the Jewish perspective that each generation is “weaker” than the generation before in that they are one step farther from Matan Torah. This is emphasized in the verse in this week’s parsha: “Remember the days of old. Consider the years of ages past. Ask your father, he will inform you, your elders and they will tell you” (Deuteronomy 32:7).

The majority of parshat Ha’azinu contains the song that Moshe and Yehoshua were instructed by God to write in parshat Vayeilech (“And now write for yourselves this song and teach it to Bnei Yisrael to place it in their mouths; in order that this song will be for Me a witness against Bnei Yisrael” - 31:19). The song reiterates the message stressed in the previous parshiot that the Children of Israel would earn the wrath of God by turning to idolatry, the other nations would be given power over them, and eventually the Jewish people would be redeemed.

In Moshe’s song, it was made clear that the challenges the people would face would be a reflection of the generation: “Children unworthy of Him - That crooked, perverse generation - Their baseness has played Him false. Do you thus requite the Lord, O dull and witless people?” (32:5-6). What is not made clear in the Torah was that this would be a repetitive situation that would last for generations. Each generation, far too many, have been to Hashem “a treacherous generation, Children with no loyalty in them” (32:20).

The general message of the culpability of the generation(s) can be quite jarring since we live in a time when Hashem has fulfilled his declarations and hidden His face from us. Moshe understood that even as his song concluded with our reunion with the Divine, the triumph of Hashem, and the decimation of our enemies, it would be easy for Bnei Yisrael to feel as if their overarching goal of serving Hashem was unachievable. And so Moshe said to them: “Focus your thoughts on all of the statements that I am bringing to witness against you today, which you are to command your sons to guard and to fulfill all the statements of this Torah. For it is not a futile thing for you, for it is your life...” (32:47).

Living in a generation from which Hashem has hidden His presence is not easy. One can gain solace and faith by looking back at who we were and the holy level of our forefathers, but Judaism, while respecting and honoring those who came before, is a system of the here and now. Not one of us can know the impact of our actions and whether that will impact the path of the generation. Furthermore, the Torah constantly reminds us of the importance of teaching all of the Torah to the future generation, for none of us live in a vacuum and every generation carries on the mission of the ultimate triumph of acknowledgement of Hashem. Our actions are individually potent, and while we may not be living in our ideal state, the Torah remains the path of life.

Strength and Boldness (Vayeilech)

I am writing this week’s parsha post on an airplane. Among the inflight entertainment options on my screen is a movie titled “Birthmarked,” described as the story of two scientists who “attempt to prove the power of nurture over nature by raising three children contrary to their genetic predispositions.” I did not watch the movie, but the description caught my attention and made me chuckle. As a parent, I know how hard it is to try to bend the nature of a child. Then I read this week’s parsha, Parsha Vayeilech, and I was struck by how much insight one can gain when reading the Torah with child psychology in mind.

As we so frequently remind ourselves at this time of year, God is the ultimate Father, Avinu. Throughout the Torah (but particularly in the Book of Devarim), we are reminded that God knows us, His children, well and that He knows that we will go wrong and worship false gods. “The people will arise and stray after the gods of the others of the land that they are going there among them, and they will forsake Me and break My covenant that I made with them” (Deuteronomy 31:16). God is here informing Moshe and Yehoshua that this is the nature of the Children of Israel.

Perhaps you, like me, find it hard to understand the idea of worshipping idols. We so often think of idol worship as people bowing down or making sacrifices to statues or praying to multiple deities. We can’t fully understand it because the desire for idol worship has been removed from our people for many generations (since the Anshei Knesset Hagedola). But the desire for “false gods,” for following the ways of the others among whom we live, is still in our nature. The hypothesis is that the urge for avodah zara is deeply connected to self-esteem and the desire for a tangible object to blame for one's failures. Perhaps in the most recent era people seek to fulfill that need through celebrities and the desire for one's "five minutes in the spotlight." But really, we need to rely only on Hashem and trust that the path He set out for us is the way to go.  

Parshat Vayeilech features the transfer of leadership from Moshe to Yehoshua. In announcing this transfer, the use of the phrase “Be courageous and be bold!” occurs three times, which makes it significant and interesting. Moshe says it to the people and then he says it to Yehoshua directly, neither of which would have been particularly interesting if not for the fact that Hashem then used this language with Yehoshua, which adds a whole new level of significance.

Moshe’s words were meant to be encouragement, both to the Children of Israel and Yehoshua. Hashem saying it to Yehoshua is both a comfort and a forewarning. In telling Yehoshua to be strong and courageous, Hashem is informing him that his role to come will not be an easy one. This generation, raised in the wilderness, had all of Hashem’s nurturing. But when sent out on their own, human nature would quickly reassert itself and they would seek more tangible deities. This would not be Yehoshua’s fault; it would be the influence of nature over nurture. 

The challenge of the desire to follow after false gods, whatever they may be, remains a tremendous struggle. May we all have strength and boldness to overcome the natural inclination (perhaps to take the path of least resistance) and to nurture our connection with Hashem.

Choices for the Relationship (Nitzavim)

Most Torah discussions about the Jewish people accepting the Torah refer to the famous utterance of “na’aseh v’nishmah, we will do and we will listen” (Exodus 24:7), said by the Jewish people in the shadows of Mount Sinai. This was the great dedication of the Jewish people to serve Hashem. Yet it is here, in parshat Nitzavim, when the Jewish people are finally (38 years later) about to be permitted into the Promised Land, that Moshe states that the Jewish people are entering into the covenant of the Torah, as it says “You stand this day, all of you, before Hashem, your God...For your passage into the covenant of Hashem, your God...” (29:9, 11).

It is fascinating to look at the difference of who we were at Mount Sinai and who we were on the border of the Promised Land. When the Jewish people approached Mount Sinai, they were pumped with adrenaline. They had experienced miracles. They had faced decimation and survived. They were very much aware that they were on the verge of something awesome. Hashem looked at this beautiful nation and (symbolically speaking) got down on one knee and proposed a union. One can imagine the joy and the excitement. One can hear the echo of the Jewish people, full of emotion, shouting “We will do and we will hear!” But the energy of first love, the adrenaline of the moment, was unsustainable. A fact proven by the sin of the Golden Calf.

That the Jewish people betrayed their heartfelt promise does not mean that they hadn’t been earnest in their desire to dedicate themselves to Hashem. But it did demonstrate that raw emotion would not be enough to carry the Jewish people through the cycle of success and failure that would move the nation toward a fulfilled destiny.

In the Book of Devarim, Moshe lays out, rather bluntly, what God expects of the Jewish people. He also offers them an honest preview of what the future holds according to how they fulfill their side of the relationship. Here now, 38 years after Mount Sinai, the Jewish people are being offered the opportunity to enter the covenant with wisdom and understanding as to its significance, in addition to the passion of their inspiration.

One of the most beautiful parts of this week’s parsha is the language of encouragement. By telling Klal Yisrael that they will mess up, Moshe is telling them that it will be okay, that it is an expected part of the process. And Moshe also lets them know that after mess-ups and consequences, there is forgiveness and reunion - “You will return to Hashem, your God, and obey Him exactly as I am commanding you today...” (30:1).

The parsha concludes with a declaration of choice. Moshe says to the people, “I invoke as witness this day heaven and earth, life and death, and I have placed before you blessing and curse; Choose life in order that you will live, you and your descendants” (30:19).

This is where the Jewish nation becomes the “chosen people.” When we said na’aseh v’nishmah, that was reaction. But here, when all the facts and possibilities, the positives and negatives, have been laid out, that is when our ancestors chose life for themselves and for us.

“The chosen people” is a term for the Jewish people that has fallen out of common usage. In western society today it is a term that is almost an embarrassment, since it can be so easily twisted and misunderstood. It can be heard as language that smacks of inequality and judgement. (Indeed, many people do use the concept as a reason to hold the Jewish people above others - an attitude that breeds arrogance.) Rather, we are the people who made the active choice for ourselves and our children ever after to be in a relationship with the Divine through the Torah, and, in so doing, were chosen to find the inspiration of the emotions that fueled our ancestors to declare na’aseh v’nishmah.

Declarations To Keep You Honest (Ki Tavo)

Parsha Ki Tavo is a parsha of declarations. It opens with the instructions for bringing the offering of the first fruits and includes the famous (a large part of the text of the Haggadah) declaration made at that time:

My father was a fugitive Aramean. He went down to Egypt with meager numbers and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous nation. The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed heavy labor upon us. We cried to the Lord, the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery, and our oppression. The Lord freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome power, and by signs and portents. He brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Wherefore I now bring the first fruits of the soil which You, O Lord, have given me (Deuteronomy 26:5-10).

The second section of the parsha is the instructions for a far less well-known declaration, one to be made by a farmer after he has completed all of the required tithes - a process that covers a three year period. After all of the tithes have been distributed, you shall declare before the Lord your God: I have cleared out the consecrated portion from the house; and I have given it to the Levite, the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow, just as You commanded me; I have neither transgressed nor neglected any of Your commandments: I have not eaten of it while in mourning, I have not cleared out any of it while I was unclean, and I have not deposited any of it with the dead. I have obeyed the Lord my God; I have done just as You commanded me. Look down from Your holy abode, from heaven, and bless Your people Israel and the soil You have given us, a land flowing with milk and honey, as You swore to our fathers (26:13-15).

I found this particular declaration requirement to be fascinating. A religious farmer will make certain that all the tithes are covered, so why must there be a spoken declaration. Not only that, the declaration is strangely detailed, referring to the different types of tithes and affirming that it was all done properly. To me, this declaration rang of what the modern era likes to refer to as “mindfulness,” and it is a way of being that is absolutely necessary for the best fulfilment of Jewish law.

After a decade or two of farming, one could easily imagine a farmer falling into a more blasé routine with providing the tithes, far less meticulous than in his first years of fulfilling the mitzvah. Here the Torah provides something better than a checklist. A checklist can be run over in one’s head, “did it, did it, yup, and that...” leaving an easy opportunity for a detail to be missed or a leniency to be forgiven. But the declaration must be stated out loud. Stating something out loud is like passing something through a lie detector test. As one reads through the statement, a soft second voice within affirms whether each part of the task was truly completed.

In these last weeks of the old year, as we approach Rosh Hashana, the inclusion of this requirement to speak past deeds out loud as an affirmation of the proper completion seems particularly pertinent. The declaration at the end of the tithing period is a great lesson in the importance of the act of making a cheshbon hanefesh - an accounting of the soul. Imagine the great strides we might make if we took such an accounting of our “everyday mitzvot!”

Much as I may need it, I am not going to announce a commitment to a daily cheshbon hanefesh. (Cause that might not be very honest of me!) However, just being aware of this passage in the parsha reinforces for me how beautifully Hashem prepared to help each of us on our journey of spiritual growth.

Just Wait Until Your Father... (Eikev)

In classic, stereotypical parenting, the type that makes one think of Leave It To Beaver, a mother wishing to draw a line of discipline for her child would often say, “Just wait until your father gets home!” This threat left the role of disciplinarian to the father and thus was attached to dad the seemingly cliche line of “This is for your own good” (or, similarly, “This hurts me more than it hurts you”).

Until recently in history, this was considered normal parenting. In recent generations, however, we parent more gently. The father’s role is less severe and punishment is often considered detrimental. (Yes, this is a stark generalization.) Perhaps this "more gentle” idea of parenting is one of the reasons that those who disdain religion accuse God of being a hard and cruel deity, but Jews refer to God as Avinu, our father, because we see beyond the black-and-whiteness of the text and the rules and the punishments declared. We see fatherly love.

How does this connect to the parsha? Because in this week’s parsha, Moshe says to Bnei Yisrael: “And you shall consider in your heart that just as man chastises his son, so the Lord your God chastises you” (Devarim 8:5).

The Torah commentator Sforno (Rabbi Obadiah Sforno - Italy - 1475-1550) explains that “along with the commandments He has given you, He gives you a superior moral/ethical challenge to help you achieve perfection as seen from His perspective.” The disciplines - the challenges - that God gives to you are opportunities to rise above the situation.

There is a platitude that is often quote in response to challenging times and difficult situations: “God only gives you what you can handle.” That’s nice, and that’s true, but the difficult situation or emotional pain is still very real. So rather than speak about the many wonderful philosophies that could be derived from this verse, let’s look at it a bit differently.

It may seem odd to say, but in these verses it feels like a real parenting dynamic in which Moshe is the mother. Moshe’s monologue throughout the parsha shifts between warnings, reminders of the good God has done for Bnei Yisrael, recollections of the errors they have committed, and subtle appeals for them not to go astray. Taken all-together, his words reflect his love for this people he has led for 40 years. It’s a tone many of us take with our children.

Moshe is the mother figure because God is a father figure. I understand that too. My father was the final disciplinarian. In our household, he was the parent that I was afraid of crossing... He was also the parent I was most afraid of disappointing.

It is easy to read a verse like this and nod. But Moshe knew how easy it is to let this fundamental knowledge of the relationship of God and Bnei Yisrael become passé, just as a mother will push her child to go give daddy a kiss. It is easy to think that the disciplinarian is out to get you, but a fundamental belief in Jewish life is that everything God does serves a positive purpose, and we should love Him for it.

Parsha Bibliography

Hirsch, Rabbi Samsom Raphael. The Pentateuch: Volume V Deuteronomy. Translated by Isaac Levy, Judaica Press, LTD, 1999.

Leibowitz, Nehama. Studies in Devarim. Translated by Aryeh Newman, The World Zionist Organization, 1980.

Soleveitchik, Rabbi Joseph B. Chumash Mesoras Harav: Sefer Devarim. Compiled and edited by Dr. Arnold Lustiger. OUPress, 2018.

Furer, Dov. Torah Treasures: Selected Thoughts and Insights from the Classic Commentaries on the Parshah of the Week. Translated by Avraham Yaakov Finkel. C.I.S. Publishers and Distributors, 1993.

Abarbanel, Isaac. Abarbanel: Selected Commentaries on the Torah, Volume I Bereishis/Genesis. Translated and Annotated by Rabbi Israel Lazar, Self Published with CreateSpace, 2015.

Caplan, Rabbi Yitzchok. Rav Wolbe on Chumach - Volume 2. Mesorah Publications, LTD, 2016.

Subar, Rabbi Reuven and Rabbi Mendel Weinbach. The Essential Malbim. Mesorah Publications, LTD, 2009.

Sforno, Rabbi Ovadia. Sforno: Commentary on the Torah, Volume I Bereishis/Shemos. Translated by Rabbi Raphael Pelcovitz, Artscroll-Mesorah Publications, LTD, 1987.

Zornberg, Avivah Gottleib. Genesis: The Beginning of Desire. The Jewish Publication Society, 1995.

Zakan, Miriam Stark. The Weekly Midrash, Tzena Ur'enah. Mesorah Publications, LTD, 1994.

For Enquire Now (Va'eschanan)

There are no such things as “throw-away lines” or “filler text” in the Torah. The traditional perspective is that every word is from Hashem, and Hashem did not waste any words. This is important to remember when reviewing parshat Va’eschanan, because one could easily get caught up in the big items that this parsha holds. Not only are there the words of the Shema, the ultimate utterance of Jewish faith (Hear O’ Israel, Hashem is our God, Hashem is one!) and two of the paragraphs that are read with it, but this week’s parsha contains the second iteration of the Ten Commandments. The less famous bits, however, are also incredibly significant.

The fourth chapter of Devarim contains Moshe’s dire prediction that Bnei Yisrael will stray from their relationship with Hashem and will “serve man-made gods of wood and stone” (4:28), but also that they will once again seek out Hashem, Who would forgive them and be compassionate to them. It is followed by a reminder of how unique their experience at Sinai had been, how no other nation had (or has) ever experienced such events.

Within these verses one can find the essence of Jewish survival, the path of teshuva (repentance being its most common translation, but more accurately, return). God never expected perfection, because only God is perfect. Moshe reminds Bnei Yisrael that if they falter, they are not lost. “But if you search for Hashem your God, you will find Him, if only you seek Him with all your heart and soul” (4:29).

Moshe is speaking to the soul of Bnei Yisrael. Many years ago, I heard a Dvar Torah about the name Yisrael and how it can be translated into “he who wrestles with God.” This translation resonated with me deeply, perhaps because emunah has never come easily for me. To really be in a relationship with God requires work. It requires knowing how to answer those who question faith. It requires being willing to fight with oneself against one’s personal, physical desires if they are contrary to the Torah. It requires an active process.

Judaism is a life of questioning, and this week’s parsha contains what very well might be the oldest line of proof text useable to rabbis trying to prove that Judaism encourages questioning and searching: “For enquire now concerning the earliest times which were before you, since the day that God created man (Adam) upon the earth...” (Devarim 4:32).

Perhaps I was particularly effected by this line because my own journey toward observance was very much based in looking at the past. The March of the Living (1992) had a profound effect on me, such that I thought about all of the people who had come before me and had sacrificed so that I could still be a Jew in the 20th (now 21st) century. Every Jew today reflects generations of striving and sacrifice. In later days, in times when I wrestled with faith, one of the most solid proofs in my mind was history. There is no nation that has remained so steadfast since “the earliest times.” Between wars, persecution, and assimilationist tendencies, the probability of Jews maintaining their traditions today is astounding.

This verse is also a reflection of Judaism’s encouragement to acquire knowledge about... everything. For by learning and exploring, one is bound to strengthen their faith in God. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch concludes his comments on this verse by stating that “to obtain knowledge of nature and history which is open to our research within these limits [reflecting previous commentary about limiting study to that which is after Creation] is not only  permitted but something which is eminently desirable to the fullest possible extent, for only a mind armed with such a wide panoramic view on all matters can draw the right conclusions of the Jewish position in the world in the whole of its speciality.”

These Are The Words (Devarim)

Eilu Devarim - These are the words...starts the first verse of the fifth book of the Torah. Perhaps that is what I should title this project that I have chosen to create for myself. These are the words, for I am starting a commitment to myself to write a brief essay on the weekly parsha. The goal is threefold. I am making a commitment to have a writing schedule. I am making a commitment to review the parsha each week. I am making a commitment to find my own voice, to reignite the fire I once had for delving into sources and sifting through the holy word (after ten years of writing almost solely as the voice of JewishTreats.org).

Perhaps this is an auspicious week for my journey into unleashing my personal commentary, for it is specifically stated in Devarim that Moshe’s words contain “every detail that God commanded to them (Bnei Yisrael)” (Devarim 1:3). The presentation, now in the first person, presents the four-decade experience of the Israelites from Moshe’s perspective.

And now for some of that more personal commentary....

The parsha of Devarim is always read at the time of Tisha B’Av, when the Jewish people mourn the loss of the Holy Tempe (twice) because the tragic tone of the day was set when the nation cried out in response to the report of the scouts sent to the Land of Canaan. (For a full recount of this event, here’s the Jewish Treat I wrote: http://www.jewishtreats.org/2008/09/forty-years-and-forgiveness.html).

Reading through the narrative of the scouts as retold by Moshe in Devarim, I was particularly struck by the words Moshe states as part of the people’s outcry. “Our brothers have shattered our hopes...” (Devarim 1:28).

What struck me most about this verse was its possible connection to recent stories describing how young Jewish adults travelled across the world to visit Israel on Birthright trips and then left the trips to protest the State of Israel. Let’s not talk about the theft involved (whether that be legitimate or simply the spirit of the law) in their taking a free trip in order to leave and work against the very purpose of the trip. Let’s talk about the distorted vision of these young Jewish adults.

When the Israelite scouts returned from the Promised Land, their first words were: “We came to the land you sent us to; it does indeed flow with milk and honey, and this is its fruit. However, the people who inhabit the country are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large...” (Numbers 13:27-28).

HOWEVER. What a terrible, poisonous word and it is a word that seems to capture the current relativism of public opinion about Israel. At the birth of the State of Israel, the Jewish people were rejoicing. Through long, hard years - interspersed with tragic, bloody wars - the Jewish people built a successful, vibrant, diverse Democracy in a land once desolate and corrupt (Ottoman era). And instead of saying that we have been blessed with a land flowing with milk and honey, a new voice has emerged decrying the fact that we are no longer the underdogs in the story. We were no longer weak, and somehow that is bad.

As the volume of the outrage against Israel grows louder, particularly from our own people, one can only wonder at how similar this is to the story of the scouts. Joshua and Caleb were the minority voices trying to remind the people of the promises made to them by God and of the magnificence of the Promised Land. Their voices were drowned out by the fear, the self-doubt, the lack of faith of the rest of the nation.

We today need to remember that God’s promises still hold true. That we are still a unique nation. And we need to stay strong when the cries of our people are overwhelming. Remember the words, “Good is the land that Hashem our God is giving us” (Devarim 1:25).

Israel: The First Two Days

Wednesday June 21 - Thursday June 22
Today is marked with a double date because, indeed, we felt as if the two days were all one. Our flight on Transat left Montreal at 2 in the afternoon, which meant that none of the kids were tired even though I had tried to keep them awake the night before.

Other then the fact that on Wednesday morning we discovered that Asher had Hand-Foot-Mouth and was difficult throughout the flight, the trip was uneventful. We landed around 7:30 am Israel time and then waited for Grandma, who finally came out of customs around 11:15.

Somewhat tired, but not wanting to either lose a day or perpetuate jet lag, we made our way to Tel Aviv with the intention of going first to the beach and then to Jaffa port. Realizing that we were closer to Jaffa, we went there first. Winding our way through crazy, narrow streets, we found the port. After admiring the glorious waves dashing against the port, we started walking in the old port area and fulfilled my silly desire of finding “the whale.” There is a whale statue at the edge of the artist colony that now inhabits ancient Jaffa. I have a picture of me and the whale from when I was 11 (family trip) and when I came at 16, so I wanted another.

We then wandered through the old port area. It was beautiful, but people were getting tired and grumpy, so we moved on to a beach at Tel Aviv, the first one we came to. I hung out with Avi, who felt it was not ok for him to go to a mixed beach. David, my mom and the kids had a great time.

David and I had booked a hotel for the first night very last minute. It was called the Ophir Hotel, located in Dizengoff Center. Getting there should have been simple, but I kept falling asleep while giving David directions. In the process, we found ourselves on some incredibly narrow streets. One such street ended at a dead-end, and David had to reverse our 9 seater van. It was quite harrowing.

How to describe the Ophir Hotel. I told the kids that it is a place that builds character...meaning that it will help them build a character in a story. Squeezed between 2 other buildings was a small, wooden staircase and an almost hidden black awning. The reception area stank of smoke and was tiny. The rooms, one on the second floor and one on the third, were bizarrely set up. Each room was unique and it seemed to me that this was all salvaged furniture.  In our room, one wall had black and white striped wallpaper, while along the other wall was a giant white wooden bed with an enormous headboard. In the second floor room, where mom stayed with the girls, they told me there was a jet tub, but it was way too scary to go near. The rooms felt dirty, but I think it was shabby more than dirty.

We went to a beautiful café for dinner and got pizza for all. We also got awesome home fries and Cajun fries. Returning to the Ophir, we discovered that the air conditioning in the room was raining onto the floor, so David, Avi, Yaakov, Asher and I had a very sweaty night. At 3:30 in the morning, David and Avi went out to get cold drinks. They left some outside the girls"' room too, but the ladies never saw them...guess someone else at the hotel was thirsty.

Friday, June 23
We got the day started nice and early(ish) and ate cereal and milk at the Tel Aviv beach. Bye Bye Ophir, it’s been...strange.

We decided to head south. My mom and I both had strong memories of the Kibbutz Yad Mordechai Memorial. We convinced everyone to go because we saw that their was a honey museum there. Alas, after an hour plus drive, we discovered that the honey museum was closed. In fact, the sign implied that it is ONLY open on Shabbat and holidays! However, we did find a kibbutz member doing an exhibition of his photographs of women of the kibbutz dressed up like women they admired.  We also made our way to the Yad Mordechai War Memorial. Again, my mom and I had a strong memory of this. Thirty years ago, we believe, as the tour guide showed you the site of the battle, at strategic moments silhouettes of the soldiers popped up in the fields. It was really thought provoking. Seems that now the silhouettes are always there, which was just less interesting. However, we were able to walk through the trenches and get a feel for what it would have been like to have been there.

Trying to salvage the day, we headed north to Ashkelon. We stopped at a small mini-market and picked up pitas and hummus and cucumbers and cheese to eat at the National Park. The oceanside park is both a recreational area/camping ground and a site of numerous antiquities from many different eras. We passed a Canaanite gate coming it and later saw Roman columns. We found a large parking area and started our picnic but slowly found ourselves surrounded by large crow-like birds. It was a bit creepy. We walked over to an ancient Canaanite well and then hiked up a hill to see if we could find the places my mother and I remember. After a long, hot walk up, the kids were getting very irritable and all we found was one Canaanite relic. David volunteered to get the car and meet us at the campground up top, which definitely seemed to have a parking lot.

What we didn’t know then was that the road up to the parking lot had a bar across it that had to be opened by the guy standing there, but David drove right past it. We waited and waited until finally heading to a snack bar and getting ice cream. I knew what had gone wrong, but since both David and I had new sim cards for Israel, I didn’t know his phone number. Eventually, he called me and we met up, but it was rather stressful for him. He decided that we all needed a fun break and to go to the beach, which was right next to the parking lot. I was on the phone with the tour guide we had hired so I wasn’t at the water. The kids had fun...until the jellyfish came. Everyone got a few stings, but Yaakov seemed the most hurt - poor guy.

It was now time to head to Yad Binyamin, where we were going to spend Shabbas with a bunch of different friends.

Northern Tour, Day 1

We left Yad Binyamin early on Sunday morning to begin our first day of touring with a tour guide, and, once again, we got a little lost. Waze is a great App, but my phone was slow to match where we were so there were these tiny delays and then we would have already missed the next turn. The highway never had a sign for the road we needed and we added a half an hour before we turned around, but it worked out. We picked up our tour guide on the outskirts of Jerusalem and headed around the city toward Jericho. (Toward, not to,)

Cool dust funnel we saw on the road.

Let me now introduce our tour guide, who will feature in several segments of the journal. Gershon Portnoy is an experienced Israel tour guide who lives in Elon Moreh, which is a settlement in the Samaria region of Israel. An American who came to Israel in the early 1970s, he is, what a North American might call, “hard core.” Passionate about Israel and the need for Jews to reside in ownership of our land, he added a fascinating aspect to our tour.

Our first stop was Nachal Kibbutzim, but the drive up there was filled with descriptions of things we were seeing: the names of settlements, historical stories and insights into the land and agriculture. Nachal Kibbutzim is a water hike in the Beit She’an Valley, directly in view of the Gilboa Mountains (for those into Biblical history, Mount Gilboa is where King Saul and his son Jonathan were slain by the Philistines). After another lunch of pita, hummas and cucumbers (and some yogurts for those who protested), we were ready for the hike.

Gershon had warned us to bring swimming gear (and he had an floaty-tube for Asher) and that we would be walking through water, but this was more of a swim than a hike. You entered the water that is part of a natural stream system and begin walking, but the water quickly increased so that the kids had to swim most of it. Luckily we had also purchased Yaakov a raft (although it kind of deflated)!  In the intense heat of the Beit She’an Valley (and there was a heat wave on in the already hot area), this was actually delightful. At the end of the hike was a water pipe that one could go through, but the intense narrowing of the flow of water at a steep pitch created a strong suction. It was fun but scary.  This was the end of the swim, and then we walked back to the car.

Our next stop sounded sort of unexciting to me, but it was actually really awesome! Dvorat HaTavor, a honey bee and silk worm farm at Moshav Shadmot Devorah. We walked in and an older gentleman was standing at the gate. He lazily nodded his head to us as we entered, and I figured he was one of the general workers of the kibbutz. The kibbutz area we were in had a pen of a whole bunch of animals: chickens, geese and peacocks (one of which displayed his grandeur for us), as well as goats. The kids enjoyed that. Gershon told us they were ready to begin and we headed inside for what I thought was going to be a video presentation. Nope. The guy who had been hanging outside, Yigal, was at the front and he gave a dynamic, fun, informative and interactive explanation of bees and honey. You would never have guessed. Then he showed us a video of a news story about his son, Boaz, who had participated in an international contest of people who “wear bees as beards.”  After the presentation, we were given a taste of some delightful fresh honey (which was quite sticky). Outside, Yigal gave us an explanation of how the bee boxes work and why smoke is used to calm the bees. He then guided us into a protected area where we watched him open a bee box. The final part of the tour was an explanation of the life cycle of the silk worm, which the kibbutz also raises. Then there was a nice little arts and crafts project for the kids painting butterflies, rolling bee’s wax candle and enjoying some chocolate and honey. Overall, it was a really cool experience.

By now it was almost 7 pm, and we were ready to find our night's accommodations. Using Airbnb, we had booked ourselves for the next few nights at the Yavneel Bed and Breakfast. This being our first Airbnb experience, I was pretty nervous about what we would find, but the location was AWESOME. Nili and Arnie Abrahams have a gorgeous wooden home (rare in Israel) located on a nice plot of land and surrounded by a desert garden. They use the upstairs as the B and B. The Abrahams had also made arrangements for Gershon, and it turned out that I knew the people who owned the “zimmer” (guest room). It was owned by the Veffers, who used to live in Har Nof Jerusalem, on the same floor that I lived on when I was at Midreshset Rachel. Going back further than that, I believe that I went to them for a Shabbas when I was at Hebrew University!

Satisfied with an awesome day, everyone fell asleep very quickly.