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.

Parshas Vayeira: Talk to Hashem

(I hate to start the parsha off with an apology, but I am going to do so nevertheless. I am adjusting to a very different teaching schedule this year, which means I have to rewire my brain to write earlier, which I have not yet managed. My process, therefore, is a bit more curtailed and off-the-cuff than I would like  - meaning less reading into the words and more conceptual.)

 

It would be easy to jump into all that the parsha has to say about Hagar and Yishmael this week to talk about the situation in the world. This is, after all, the beginning of Yishmael. Indeed, even before Yishmael, we see the root of the problem in Hagar, who, according to the Midrashim, flaunted herself before Sarah as the real wife of Avraham because of her ability to carry a child. Hagar did not see that Sarah’s own spiritual greatness was a contributing factor to the greatness of this family. It is interesting to note that between Yishmael and the sons she bore when she returned as Keturah, the children of Hagar, the population disparity was 7 to 1. But population, or might, did not make right, and Hashem designated only Yitzchak as Avraham’s true heir.

 

Thus has it been proven how easy it is to look at Parshas Vayeira and see deep connections to our life and times in 2024. There is, however, another section of the parsha that seems important to look at, and that is Avraham’s conversation with Hashem about S’dom.

 

One could consider Avraham’s petition to Hashem futile. Afterall, he didn’t stop the destruction of S’dom. S’dom’s destruction was, at that point, inevitable. Every argument that Avraham could prepare was something Hashem had already taken into consideration. Hashem had made His decree, and history was set in motion. So why was this discussion included in the Torah? Indeed, not only was it included, but the Torah goes out of its way to stress how important Hashem felt it was to tell Avraham about that which was about to happen.

 

But everything in the Torah serves a purpose for the future of Klal Yisrael. Throughout the thousands of years of our history, the Jewish people have faced times of immense crisis. Often, we could see the danger coming, but it seemed that the spirals of history were too far in motion to be stopped. We might feel forsaken. We might feel unheard. We might even feel bereft and abandoned.

 

Hashem wants us to be like Avraham, to react and to try to change the world. The dialogue with Avraham tells us that we still have a proactive responsibility to try, to pray, to beseech Hashem. There are no unstoppable spirals; there is only that which Hashem decrees. S’dom couldn’t be spared or redeemed, but still Hashem listened and was mindful of that which Avraham argued. Hashem listened to the possibility, dwindling, that there might be righteous people left, and one must believe that if He could have found a redeeming feature for S’dom, He would have.

 

The year 5784 feels like the beginning of another spiral. So much has happened that feels out of control, out of line with the natural course of history and society… that’s, at least, how it feels. We have davened to Hashem, and yet we still await resolution. We have beseeched Hashem, and the hostages are still not free.

 

Avraham kept inquiring down to the last 10. This is the chizuk that we must take from the parsha. History has a path, Hashem’s path. We won’t always like it; it will sometimes be devastating – in truth - but Hashem knows the far greater plan. Our voices cannot remain silent, because our calling out to Hashem is the core of our relationship; it is our true inheritance from Avraham.

 

 

 

 

 

Parshas Lech Lecha: The Extra Hoo

 As a child, one of the most exciting ideas to learn is that every person has a unique fingerprint. Even when we are young, our psyche ponders our place in the world, our role in the universe, and learning that our fingerprints are completely our own – even if one is an identical twin – is an affirmation to our uniqueness. Fingerprints are a physical expression of an important fact, that each one of us has a unique neshama.

 

The essence of human life is that we are a combination of goof and neshama, the physical and the spiritual, and this, perhaps, has significance when one reads Bereishis 13:1. “And Avram went up from Mitzrayim - he and his wife and all that was to him - and with Lot, to the Negev/South.” The grammar in this pasuk leaves much to question for its seeming redundancy. Avram went up – he and his wife. Why does the pasuk add the pronoun hoo/he, when it already states his action? Why are Avram and Lot named, but not Sarai?

 

Each one of these people had a journey that impacted them on every level. Avram came to Mitzrayim and became a man of great wealth and influence. There in what was considered the epitome of civilization in the ancient world, Avram gained material wealth and associated power. For most people, being so well treated and honored by Pharoah would be seen as the epitome of success. But Avram was able to look beyond the material gains of Mitzrayim and recognize that returning to Eretz Canaan was the truly upward path. Avram, when leaving Mitzrayim, took both his physical self and his spiritual self.

 

Hoo v'eeshto – He and his wife. Why isn’t Sarai named. Certainly, their journey to Mitzrayim impacted her more than anyone else. She was physically taken to Pharoah, held captive and unsolicitedly wooed. But for Sarai, there was no attraction to life in Mitzrayim. There was no risk of her losing track of who she was and what her purpose was. According to Bereishis Rabba, Avram put her in a box to protect her on their way into Mitzrayim, and while that may not have kept her from the soldiers’ notice, she went down to Mitzrayim spiritually protected. Thus when they went up she was the same partner she had always been; she was the match to Avram’s “hoo.”

 

Lot, on the other hand, left Mitzrayim with his name and his wealth. He didn’t change for the better not did he adhere to principles. Lot went with Avram when Avram went up because he had to, but he, his deeper essence, did not ascend. Lot just followed.

 

Parshas Lech Lecha is a parsha very much about being and journeying. Who we are and where we are matter, as does where we are heading. And all of that can be understood on the two distinct plains of existence. We may live in a place that is spiritually unhealthy, but we ourselves do not have to become spiritually unhealthy. It is easy to be like Lot and lose yourself to physical comfort and material enrichment. It is inspirational to look to Sarai and know that even in times of mortal danger one can maintain one’s spiritual dominance. But it is to Avram that klal Yisrael looks to demonstrate how we must emulate our ancestors. He accepted success but always remembered the importance of his relationship with Hashem. He did not shun wealth, but later, when he saw how wealth effected his nephew, he was able to prioritize proper conduct over material ease.

 

 This week’s parsha starts out with Lech Lecha, those famous words that can be translated as “Go for yourself.” Each of us is on a unique journey through this world. And each of us must strive to make certain that we are not just a name, not just the physical manifestation of ourselves, but that we bring with us our neshamos, that we go up as we go forward.

 Wishing you all a beautiful Shabbas.

 

Parsha Noah: In an Era of Safa

 Parshas Noah: In an Era of Safa

Let’s be honest. Many of us are looking to the week ahead and wondering what will be. As I write this Dvar Torah at midnight on Erev Shabbas Rosh Chodesh MarCheshvan, the headlines are filled with discussions of Iran’s threats of imminent attack and no one can even make sense of the political headlines on the eve of the US elections. Thank goodness Hashem runs the world as we mere mortals are truly on the wrong track.

 

Interestingly, we might be on the same wrong track as one described in this week’s parsha - the Dor Haflaga, the generation of the Tower of Bavel. It is a narrative we all know. The world’s population gathered together and built a tower with the intention of fighting Hashem. They believed that they had no need for Hashem. If we look back twenty years or so ago, many people in the west possibly felt same way. Certainly, there were problems, global hot spots or revolutions, but with the dissolution of the Cold War, most nations felt more connected than ever. The internet’s pervasiveness crossed and broke boundaries; it brought people together. Technology would shape our lives.

 

When we talk about language in a Torah context, most of us think of lashon, which is also the word for the tongue. It’s how we form words internally. Our inner voice is the voice of our souls. But Bereishis 11 does not talk about lashon. It talks about safa, the language of the lips.

 

Safa is an external language. Safa is the language of the internet. Safa is the language spoken because that’s what everyone else is saying. It’s how politics devolved into hyperbole and soundbytes and name calling, because it became more important to sound like part of the herd then to stand out.

 

The Dor Haflaga was noted as being unified, and one might argue that today’s society is divided rather than unified – is unable to build because it is shaking its own foundations. But this question is addressed in an interesting Kli Yakar on Bereishis 11:1:

 

“For when the wicked gather together, they think among themselves of wicked plans against others. On top of this, fights, disagreements, and hatred break out among them. And this is the law of jealousy (alluding to Numbers 5:29) that is found among groups, all the actions of which are not for the sake of the Heavens, but rather to make a name for themselves in the world (referring to Genesis 11:4). And the main reason for this is that, since each one has his own personal motive, their hearts are divided against each other. For this one will desire money and glory, that one much food, the other much sex, and still another one will say, "Let's make a name for ourselves," and wants to be the highest of the high. Because of this, a fight develops. Either it is from not having one goal, given that there are many evil paths, whereas there is only one good path. Or it is from each one wanting and desiring to be more important and higher than the others. And is this trait not found in most of our people? Hence the dispersion of these groups is better than their assembly…”

We see this today. The language of protest is used to promote harrassment. The language of justice is used to promote hate. Our world is so much larger than the world of the Dor Haflaga. (After all, we aren’t the regeneration of human life after a world-washing flood.) Therefore, it is harder to recognize how unified the language of the world is. But it has been pointed out, far too many times lately, that both “the right” and “the left” have seen a dramatic rise in unveiled anti-Semitism. They are two sides of the same coin.

 

The Dor Haflaga lived in a time when Hashem’s presence was almost physical (Hashem is described as walking through Gan Eden, Noah is described as walking with Hashem). That was many eras ago, before Hashem pulled Himself back and before Hashem designated one nation to represent Him amongst all the others. The Dor Haflaga used their safa to build a tower to attack Hashem, the upcoming generation in western society – in their need to be seen as heroic, each as a “good” person – are using their safa to slander and demoralize Klal Yisrael, that one nation.

 

The Dor Haflaga recognized the existence of Hashem but resisted the idea of being under control. Today’s generation does not believe in Hashem, in the active force of God in the world. But, the Jewish people know differently.

 

Everything that has occurred over the last fateful year makes it almost impossible not to see Hashem’s hand in the world. Hashem is blindfolding an entire generation so that they appear unable to see true evil when it is before them, and Hashem is doing this, perhaps, so that Klal Yisrael will have their own eyes opened and will step away from the other nations and closer to Him before He knocks down their figurative tower.

 

With this in mind, as the week bears down on us, let us pray not for the right outcome – since what ever outcome occurs is right, is per Hashem’s intentions – but rather, let us daven the Klal Yisrael be given the strength to stay strong and see truth.

 

I wish you all a beautiful Shabbas

Parshas Nitzavim-Vayelech: 21st Century Wood and Stone

There is something extraordinarily profound about the opening of this week’s Parsha, Parshas Nitzavim-Vayelech. Unlike many parshios that start with Vayomer or Vayidaber or a few common phrases, this week’s parsha begins with words to which we must take heed. Atem – You all, Nitzavim – are standing, Hayom -this day, Coolchem – all of you, Lifnei Hashem – in front of Hashem.

 

It's powerful, yes because we are on the cusp of the Yomim Noarayim, on the days when we stand before the Sovereign Judge and ask that He see us with favor. But it is also powerful because it specifies “All of you” and “This day.” The unity that we all so frequently pontificate about is something necessary everyday, and Devarim 29:9 immediately reminds us of the tremendous power of our unity.

 

The opening of the parsha goes on to express who is included in “all of you”: men, women, and children; Jews by birth and “Jews by choice”; and those who seem, in some eyes, to be the lowest level of society. Every descendant – physical and spiritual - of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov is included in coolchem because everyone of these neshamos understands the trials and tribulations that took us out of Mitzrayim, out of the narrow straits of the world, and separated us from the nations. Then the Torah reminds us “And you saw their abominations and their repugnant idols of wood and stone, silver and gold which were with them” (29:16).  

 

It is a strange pasuk – which might be why it is a fairly well-known one. And where once we understood this pasuk to refer to those who worshiped idols – which were a threat to our nation in the days before the Anshei Knesses Hagadola davened for the removal of the taiva for avodah zara - it came to be understood as a reference to Christianity and Islam – wood or the cross and stone for the Black Stone of Mecca.

 

Just as the commentators understanding of the idols of wood and stone, silver and gold passed the test of time as the Western World was dominated by the other Abrahamic religions, so too we can look at our world today – a world in which religion seems to bear a political role far beyond belief systems – and recognize the necessary warning of abominations.

 

As the US Presidential election approaches, Jews in the country with the second largest Jewish population* in the world need to decide for whom to vote, and the choice – at least from my perspective – seems impossible. The country has polarized to the right and to the left. To the left is stone. The stone is a cold heart that finds it difficult to acknowledge the atrocities committed on October 7^th or to sympathize with Jewish students harassed on their college campuses. To the left are people who have embraced the rallying cries of the anti-Israel protesters and don’t even understand the murderous meaning of “From the river to the sea.” To the left is the delusion of safety among people who claim to have no bias but who have been empowering anti-Semitism for years.

 

To the right is wood. To the right are people who speak with fiery rhetoric about protecting Israel’s right to exist, but who, more and more, have been open to embracing men and women with deeply troubling beliefs. To the right are people who sound trust-worthy but whose values, historically, lean toward defining Jews as other.

 

The idols of wood and stone are still with us today, still luring us into trouble. The antidote to those troubles, however, has already been stated. “You are all standing this day before the Lord, your God…” (Devarim 29:9). Hayom – this day – tells us that this pasuk is important in every era. Coolchem – all of you – tells us, once again, about our most powerful weapon, which is Jewish unity. Our weapon is Nitzavim, which means to stand in an upright position.

 

Obviously, it is important to vote in the national election - That is one’s right and duty as a citizen. But as a Jew, it is most important that we stand together, stand proud of who we are, and, most significantly, remember that we stood before Hashem and we continue to stand before Hashem.

 

In a few more days, it will be Rosh Hashana (when we will literally be standing all day…lol) 5785. I think it is fair to say that 5784 was a year in which Hashem made it clear that our place, the place of the Jewish people, is neither to the right nor the left. Our place is outside of politics because our job is to remember and uphold our covenant with Hashem.

 

May this Shabbas be restful and the upcoming Rosh Hashana usher in a new year that sees victory and peace.

 

*possibly the first by a few thousand different according to the Jewish Virtual Library

Parshas Ki Tavo – The Important of Being Good

 As an English teacher, I often ask students to take a large concept and break it down to its most simplified form. Parshas Ki Tavo is, therefore, rather fascinating in its structure in that Bnei Yisrael are first presented with what could be considered a skeleton list of behaviors to be avoided lest one be cursed followed by an extremely detailed composition describing life when blessed by Hashem verses life when cursed by Hashem.

 

The skeletal list of curses, which one expects from the text to be paired with a similar list of blessings but is not, are fascinating. They do not mention any of the halachos that we most associate with living a Torah life, and they do not mention anything about the avodah, although the mishkan and its actions have taken up a large percentage of the Torah thus far. In fact, of all the curses listed, only one could be considered bein adom l’makom – and that one prohibits the making of idols and setting them up in secret, which is a very specified avodah zara.

 

In other words, Hashem is not saying to curse the person who does not keep Shabbas or who eats non-kosher food or who violates the holidays, even though these topics are related numerous times in the Torah. But one who violates basic human decency, that is whom one should curse, and the actions for which one shall be cursed are oddly specific: insulting one’s parents, moving a landmark, misdirecting a blind person, taking a bribe to be a false witness, and etc. Taken as a whole, however, they create broad brush strokes of decency.

 

The only one of the curses that is not hyper-focused, so to speak, is the concluding “Cursed be whoever will not uphold the terms of this Torah and observe them.—And all the people shall say, Amen” (Devarim 27:26). The debate, which one can even say is ongoing as rabbis today prepare divrei Torah, is whether this refers to the just completed list to which it belongs or to the Torah in its entirety. But that is a mute point for now.

 

There is one other subtle unifying factor of these curses. They are all private acts, things that might be done when – or because – there are no witnesses.

 

The curses and the blessings are to be recited just before Bnei Yisrael enter the Promised Land. This warning of the temptations that might follow, the lure of selfish violations of decency, is declared just before Bnei Yisrael are going to leave the safety of Hashem’s palpable presence. These curses are a mother or father telling their newly adult child not to overspend on their credit card. It might not seem problematic and it’s so easy to do, but the repercussions for the future are serious.

 

The curses of transgressors of decency may be directed at entering the Land of Canaan in Parshas Ki Tavo, but the curses are a warning no matter where one lives. And the temptations are far greater in gulus than when Bnei Yisrael lived in the spiritually infused Promised Land, where the recognition of Torah and Hashem was ever-present. So here we are, 2 long millennia in exile constantly encountering a world in which the mores of society are ever changing. Ours, however, should not. Gulus is a world in which Hashem’s face is hidden, in which we struggle to feel the spiritual around us, but the necessity of being a good person – of not doing ill to another even when one thinks they cannot be caught – never goes away.

 

I wish you all a good Shabbas.

 

Parshas Ki Tezei – All for One or One for All

In America, every person is entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness – a philosophical statement of rights, if nothing else. It sounds lovely, and it does appear to be the heart of western society today. The question for a Dvar Torah, however, is what does that have to do with Torah. Do these values line up with Jewish values? Let’s look at them in reverse order and see how they compare to the mitzvos of Parshas Ki Tezei, or at least some of them.

 

The pursuit of happiness is an abstract concept. One assumes that it was not meant to mean that every person should put themselves and their specific wants as first priority, but it does seem that this is how society has devolved in the decades that have passed. The halachos of the Torah in this week’s parsha, however, emphasize that the pursuit of happiness takes second priority to the “pursuit” of a harmonious community. Thus we have the commandment, and the detailed rules expanded upon in the Torah she’baal peh, of returning a lost object (Devarim 22:1-3) and, similarly, the halachos of helping even an enemy if his oxen have fallen on the road. We put others first.

 

The right to liberty is defined in the Merriam-Webster dictionary as the quality or state of being free; the power to do as one pleases, the freedom from physical restraint, and the freedom from arbitrary or despotic control. Is this different than the Pursuit of Happiness? Happiness is stating that how I  feel matters more than other people. Liberty means that my choices need to be without constraint. But in this week’s parsha, we learn about the laws of Yibum – the law by which a man must marry the widow of his brother if his brother died without children. There are, of course, halachos to exempt oneself, but the idea remains a firm part of Torah. A person does not necessarily have liberty in a Torah world. Even the most intimate aspects of a person’s life are constraint by law.

 

The right to life seems like an incredibly basic entitlement. And, in truth, most of Western Civilization is built on a Judeo-Christian foundation that places tremendous importance on life. But stating that one has a right to life implies that one has a right to no-life, that one can throw one’s life away or choose not to live. There is no right to life in the Torah; there is a responsibility to life. We see this in Parshas Ki Tezei in Devarim 22:8: “When you build a new house, then you shall make a parapet around your roof, that you shall not bring blood upon your house, if any man fall from there.”

 

It is a person’s responsibility to protect life – even on a roof-top upon which they never choose to tread. This verse, this one simple verse, reflects the identity of Klal Yisrael. Why are the numbers so disparate in the current war? Because it is built into us to know that we must protect life, that life is precious, and that life is not a right but a responsibility. Sadly, in the State of Israel, one must not only build parapets around rooftops but safe rooms and bunkers. The government invests in such evolved protection because every life matters.

 

Western civilization has taken the American Founding Fathers’ call to the right for Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness to its extreme, and, as a result, we’ve lost far too many Jews to attrition and assimilation. The evolution of Western society has allowed Jews an unprecedented opportunity to live peacefully in our gulus, to feel like we can be both who we are religiously and still be part of our host nation. And that is fine – I myself am a proud American and a proud Canadian – as long as being a Jew is what shapes our moral outlook.

 

Parshas Ki Tezei could be read as a list of rules, a review of halacha learned throughout the wandering in the Wilderness. Within that list, however, we see the true dignity of Torah: return a lost object; unload a beast lying under its burden; do not leave out a stumbling block; pay your workers’ wages on time; do not charge one’s brother interest nor hold on to the collateral of a borrower over night if it is something that they might need; not to have inaccurate scales; and etc. The parsha also talks about war, about bringing home a captured woman as a wife (how to treat her so that the truth of the relationship might be revealed and as a warning against the dangers that may come from such a union) and about remembering Amalek, who thought us a weak nation.

 

In this time period, when the shadows of the world continue to grow and the anti-Semitism long buried in the veneer of Western Civilization continues to be revealed, remember that this is who we are – a nation that values each person, their life and their dignity, because each life is essential to who we all are and not just because we want to make certain that our own happiness is guaranteed.

Parshas Shoftim - Relating to Kingship.

 As school years begin across the northern hemisphere, millions of children are sitting in their classrooms, looking at their teachers, and asking, “Why do we have to learn this?” It was even noted at a recent teacher training conference that this question can be hard to answer specifically for a history teacher. Kids don’t generally resonate with “Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.” Nevertheless, the truth of this statement is highlighted in the current global climate when leadership in so many countries is shifting. Many people were in denial over the possible return of nationalism, and, equally, it still astonishes many that countries could choose to follow the path of Communism that failed so gloriously in the USSR.

What, you might be wondering, does this have to do with the parsha, parshas Shoftim? Shoftim has a wealth of fascinating subsections and verses that could, indeed, be connected to our current situation – some literally and some more figuratively - but in a world rocked by leadership debates it seemed pertinent that we are reminded of the Torah’s dictates on a Jewish king. It is famously known that the Torah prohibits kings of Israel from owning too many horses or marrying too many wives. It is also common knowledge that each king is obligated to write two Torah scrolls, and the reason for this is “so that his heart will not be haughty over his brothers, and so that he will not turn away from the commandment, either to the right or to the left, in order that he may prolong [his] days in his kingdom, he and his sons, among Israel” (Devarim 17:20).

Devarim 17:20 may be speaking of the ancient kings, of the men who reigned in the days of the Beis Hamikdash, and of royalty when all of klal Yisrael understood the Divinity of Torah. But the instructions in the Torah are often those which most resonate throughout time and regardless of place. Now we look at our world today and we have to wonder. “…so that his heart will not be haughty.”

Is there a politician today about whom one can say they are not haughty? Is there a “world leader” for whom it isn’t apparent that they are always going to put themselves first, to adjust the rules as they need them? Sadly, not really. And this is not a statement about any one particular party or figure; this is all of them.

Except now we are in Elul. Now we are in a time when we are meant to focus on Kingship – as it is said: “The King is in the field.” Now is the time to approach Hashem and supplicate Him even as we draw close, spiritually, and remember His awesomeness.

The verses on choosing a human king are separated out as their own aliyah (sheini). The message is important. Human leaders are, by nature, easily led to think themselves godlike in their power, untouchable by the world. (As an aside, haven’t you ever wondered when a politician gets caught in a public scandal how someone who lives under constant press coverage could believe they could have a secret life?) Once upon a time we thought that if we got rid of absolute monarchies, we would solve the problem of leaders who were led astray by arrogance, by wealth, or by their own frivolous whims, and so we moved to democracies hoping that these leaders would always remember to whom they were responsible. But anyone who must face election cycle after election cycle inevitably must build up their ego and must cater to special parties. This is history. History shows us how human leadership is… human.

In the closing days of Av, all of Klal Yisrael was devastated by the news of the monstrous execution of six of the hostages. It rocked our world. They were so close to freedom after suffering so long. For all these months we prayed for their lives, and Hashem said yes. For all these months we prayed for their freedom, and then Hashem said no. And we don’t really understand. We want to understand why such a terrible thing has occurred, but we never will because we are humans, because we see the world and see our slice of history, our specific story. We won’t be able to understand, but we look toward the leadership and are reminded that they seemingly put their own specific agendas first. But they are human, they cannot see the bigger picture.

It is Elul. The King is in the field. The King of kings knows the good and the bad and everything in between. He knows how much this hurt our nation, but He also knows the why that we may never understand.

Coming into Elul with this tragedy on our heads may have us perplexed. We davened so hard for these hostages, and Hashem said no. What do we do now? Now we turn to Hashem and we recognize His answer, and then we daven that their deaths will not be in vain, that we will, perhaps, be able to see a sliver of the bigger picture soon. We turn to the King of kings, and we declare how we accept His far broader perspective of the world, but nevertheless, we ask for what we need, what we want, and what we hope for. We daven, we request, we supplicate… yes, we have many words for ways we address Hashem … but we never forget that Hashem is the King.

It’s been a long week of reflection. May this Shabbas bring us a sense of comfort and peace, and May Hashem send Moshiach soon so that we can truly, truly understand.

 

Good Shabbas

 

Parshas Ra’eh: Two Interpretations But Not really

For thousands of years, the Jewish people have prided themselves on being unique, on following a different path, on having a mission. In order to, please Hashem soon, fulfill our ultimate goal of being a mamleches kohanim, a nation of priests – a nation that leads the world in matters of spirituality and holiness (and thus ethics) - we need to hold ourselves to different standards; and that is often really very hard. Living in galus, the imperfect state of the world, has forced us to be surrounded and, thus, influenced by nations and peoples who have different goals. It is up to us to navigate that path between.

 

In this week’s parsha, Parshas Ra’eh, there is a seemingly short and simple pasuk that could easily be overlooked as a simple wrap up to the subject being discussed but is far more impactful than might be realized. Pasuk 12:4 states: “Lo ta’asoon ken la’Hashem E-lo-kay’chem. Do not do thus to Hashem your Gd.” The pasuk follows instructions to Bnei Yisrael that upon entering the Promised Land they should make certain to destroy all the places where the other nations had worshipped false gods. Indeed, the pasuk before says: “And you shall tear down their altars, smash their monuments, burn their asherim with fire, cut down the graven images of their gods, and destroy their name from that place.”

 

The preceding pasuk, however, is exactly what makes this pasuk so curious. It seems as if the Torah is telling Bnei Yisrael not to tear down or destroy anything that is part of the avodah to Hashem, but that seems like an obvious statement. The entire focus of the Torah is getting to the Promised Land to fulfill the ultimate means of serving Hashem, so who would even think to tear down Hashem. That would seem to fall under prohibitions against blasphemy and rebellion and the like.

 

Perhaps it is this conundrum that has led a great number of wise scholars to interpret this pasuk as meaning that one should not worship Hashem in any way that is similar to the worship of Avodah Zara. It isn’t as simple as don’t carve images or designate holy trees. Taking Jewish worship and shaping it to reflect modern standards is a slippery slope. Just look at where the introduction of an organ led… And it is tempting. Seeing outsiders in the throes of their own faith could very well lead one to wanting to bring that passion or joy to Jewish prayer. If you’ve ever seen gospel, it is full of energy and joy that is aimed at God. But it is not for us. We can be inspired by that to inflect more energy and joy into our own avodah, but we should not transform our avodah to mimic theirs.

 

Don’t worship like the others and don’t destroy the places or vehicles of avodas Hashem - one verse with two very different understandings, and yet they are both relevant comments on life in our modern day galus. These two instructive interpretations merge in that much of popular culture seems to thrive on erasing religion. For thousands of years of history, one could not have imagined a world where so much secularism reigned. Jews avoided the ways of worship of other nations – to the point that it is common to avoid even giving directions using a church as a landmark – but now we must be wary of the penchant for the world around us to diminish, if not erase all together, the Creator of the Universe.

 

There is one more powerful aspect to this verse: “Lo ta’asoon ken la’Hashem E-lo-kay’chem. Do not do thus to Hashem your Gd.” The power is in our hands. Hashem instructed us on how to connect to Him, and He commanded us what to do or not do according to His “Creator’s Manuel,” His omniscient view of all things. The word La’asot, as in ta’asoon, means to do or make. It is a powerful word that implies just how much bechira, free will, each of us has. Hashem gave us control over our relationship with Him, because, ultimately, that is the only way we will be able to fulfill our role as a mamleches kohanim.

 

I wish you all a beautiful Shabbas, a good start to the new school year, and an upcoming chodesh tov.

Parshas VaEschanan: Thinking About What is Coming

This past week was…intense. Not a few people went into last Shabbas wondering if this week would see unthinkable disaster or, perhaps, ever-yearned for salvation. With Iran threatening to attack and reports insinuating that they would do so on Tisha B’Av, the Jewish world held its breath. And life continued forward as before. And many wondered, even as they were grateful for the lack of attack, why or when – and even why we keep cutting to the edge of a new era but are unable to get there.

 

There are many interesting aspects to this week’s parsha, Parshas Vaeschanan, that could speak to the situation in which we are living. In particular, it is interesting to look at the second half of perek hey (5), starting at pasuk 20, which is the beginning of the fifth aliyah. In the parek, Moshe is describing the reaction of Bnei Yisrael to hearing Hashem at Har Sinai, at the giving of the Aseres Hadibros.

 

“And it was, when you heard the voice from the midst of the darkness, and the mountain was burning with fire, that you approached me, all the heads of your tribes and your elders. And you said, ‘Behold, the Lord, our God, has shown us His glory and His greatness, and we heard His voice from the midst of the fire; we saw this day that God speaks with man, yet [man] remains alive. So now, why should we die? For this great fire will consume us; if we continue to hear the voice of the Lord, our God, anymore, we will die. For who is there of all flesh, who heard the voice of the living God speaking from the midst of the fire, as we have, and lived? You approach, and hear all that the Lord, our God, will say, and you speak to us all that the Lord, our God, will speak to you, and we will hear and do’” (Devarim 5:20-24).

 

In other words, the people stood at Sinai, saw the thunder, heard the lightening, listened to Hashem’s voice, and grew terribly afraid. They knew that they were receiving something sublime, that they were experiencing a moment that would take them to another level of existence – and they backed away from it. They feared it. They asked Moshe to intervene for them.

 

The Rambam listed 13 tenets of Jewish faith, the Ani Maamins, and one of those is “I believe with complete faith in the coming of Moshiach, and although he may tarry, nevertheless, I wait every day for him to come.” Waiting – yearning – planning – pining for Moshiach. This is what a Yid does.

 

But, to say something controversial…

 

It is part of the human condition to fear change.  It is natural to be afraid of the unknown. And as much as we all may express our emunah, true emunah and bitachon is incredibly difficult to achieve. Over the past few weeks, the question of what to daven for has been a conundrum. If one davens that this is Moshiach coming, does that mean one does not daven for peace and stability. And if one davens that the enemy backs down, is that buying more time until global decisions necessary for spiritual change are made?

 

Bnei Yisrael at Har Sinai were at an inconceivable level of spiritual awareness, and their fear drove them to make space between themselves and the Divine. Have we grown past that? Can we? Ani Maamin b’emunah shelaima bviyas Hamashiach…but is that enough? Believing Moshiach is coming, wanting Moshiach to come, preparing for Moshiach –  but will we be able to embrace Moshiach when he comes?

 

This week’s parsha is named Va’eschanan, which means “And I entreated.”  This week’s Shabbas, however, is known as Shabbas Nachamu, after the opening words of the Haftarah, which mean “Console, console My people," says your God” (Yeshiyahu 40:1).  There is a tremendous lesson of bitachon in the two names associated with this Shabbas. When one takes it upon themselves to truly beseech Hashem, to reach out and entreat Him for help – whether that be asking Hashem to send Moshiach or asking Hashem to help one get to the level of emunah to fulfill the ani maamins – then one will be able to witness Nachamu, the consolation and comforting of our nation.

 

May we achieve this soon.

Good Shabbas

 

Parshas Devarim: These are the words of Moshe – [This is] the vision of Isaiah

 Without question, Jews around the world are “holding our breath” this Shabbas. For many of us, we do not remember a Nine Days that felt so rife with threat – and we in the diaspora are experiencing only a small sliver of that tension.  Some may be asking “How did we get here?”, while others are pondering “How can the situation be saved?”

 

This Shabbas is known as Shabbas Chazon, which technically translates into the Shabbas of vision but receives the name because chazon, vision, is the first word of the Haftara, the opening lines of Sefer Yishayahu (Isaiah). Shabbas Chazon is always the Shabbas right bfore Tisha B’Av, and it is also always Parshas Devarim. Within that duality lie responses to both questions.

 

How did we get here? Parshas Devarim begins with Moshe reviewing the actions of Bnei Yisrael throughout their sojourn in the Wilderness. Most significantly, however, Moshe focuses on the appointment of the spies who so thoroughly led the nation astray. And it is only here, in Devarim, that we learn the subtle details of how Moshe felt about their request to spy out the land and how troubled he was by their lack of bitachon. Here it is that we are reminded that had we, meaning the whole of klal Yisrael, not cried out in self-pity that Hashem was leading us to our destruction, all of history would have been different. We are reminded of how often Klal Yisrael can be its own worst enemy.

 

How did we get here? Hashem makes it clear in Yishiyahu’s vision that all of our trials and tribulations stem from our own behaviour. We bring upon ourselves destruction because we did not learn from our mistakes, because we allowed our society to become selfish and sinful. More importantly, even as we practiced perfect sacrifices and orderly rituals, it is clear from Yishayahu’s words that we lost the ikker, the heart, of the Torah – which is about creating a true and just society.

 

How did we get here? Ritual and ceremony, and even prayer, mean little without actual bitachon. Without bitachon, we cannot set up a just society because we work under the pretense that we control the outcome and so our instincts for self-preservation kick in. Alas, as pointed out in Shaar Habitachon (I believe), the ways of Hashem are such that when mankind believes in a force other than Hashem – be that an idol or money or people or self – Hashem leaves them in their delusion.

 

Parshas Devarim wraps up with the assignment of land to Reuven, Gad, and half of Menashe on the far side of the Yarden. This is significant because it reminds us of an important aspect of bitachon, which is knowing that we are in a relationship with Hashem, that Hashem listens to our opinions and desires as well.

How can the situation be saved? Loftily stated – by creating a society built on bitachon. This doesn’t mean religiosity, but rather “Learn to do good. Devote yourselves to justice; Aid the wronged. Uphold the rights of the orphan; Defend the cause of the widow” (Yishayahu 1:17). One can build a truly just society only when one truly comprehends that Hashem runs the world for the good of all and that we are each only tools for His will to be carried out.

 

Of course, life, and faith and individuality are far more complicated than just saying trust Hashem, and true bitachon is an exceptionally hard feat – made even harder by a host society that asserts its rights to self-expression and self-fulfillment above all else. Most of us are self aware enough to know that we as individuals are not in positions to shape national policy – or often even community behaviour. What we can shape is ourselves.

 

Will Iran attack? Might Hezbollah go rogue? Are our synagogues safe? We must daven that this evil will pass, but we can’t just daven in a vacuum. We have to do our hishtadlus by incorporating acts that lead to just-ness and by building our bitachon.

 

Shabbat Shalom.

 

 

Parshas Matos-Masai: Learning from War

 War… It means far more to us today than it did a year ago. Indeed, after the actions of this week it means far more to us today than it did a month ago. The war we hoped would come to a quick and victorious end hovers on the precipice of regional escalation. And this calls to the question the conundrum of the very existence of war.

 

One would think that in the ideal world there would be no such thing as war. Utopian fantasies are often premised on the very idea of a society so advanced and enlightened that there is no fighting. And, in truth, there are certainly ideas that in the coming days of Moshiach (bimhera, byamenu) the “lion shall lie down with the lamb” and “"nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.” But that’s the dream of the future, and this week’s parsha, parshas matos-massai, is just one of several parshios in the Torah that discuss Bnei Yisrael going to war.

 

Perek lamed -aleph actually presents a particularly relevant call to arms. “So Moshe spoke to the people, saying, ‘Arm from among you men for the army, that they can be against Midian, and carry out the revenge of the Lord against Midian’” (31:3). God has instructed Moshe to arm Bnei Yisrael to fight the Midianites as his final leadership act before he dies.

 

Quite clearly, this is neither a war of defense nor a war of conquest, but specifically a war of revenge against the Midianites. To those of us raised in the 20^th or 21^st century Western culture, the idea of a war of revenge seems anything but religious or Godly. Nevertheless, that is exactly what Hashem ordered.

 

What was it that needed to be avenged? Parshas Balak, it may be recalled, contains two nations trying to interfere with the Jewish people. Balak was the king of the Moabites, and, according to the commentaries, they had reason to be concerned about the Israelites. Chizkuni, on pasuk 25:17 states: “whatever the Moabites had done, they had done because they had believed that they had a legitimate reason to fear for their lives from the Israelites. Furthermore, the Israelites had already taken possession of lands which used to be theirs before Sichon had conquered it from them in war.”  The Midianites, however, also busied themselves with Balak’s war, and Rashi points out on Bamidbar 31:2 – “The Moabites entered into the matter out of fear, because they feared that they might plunder them, since about them it was stated only, (Devarim 2:9) “Do not contend with them in battle”; but the Midianites, however, had got excited (had interfered) in a quarrel that did not concern them.”

 

This is not so different from the world we live in today, when everyone seems to have an opinion and a sense of a permission to get involved in a quarrel that does not concern them.

As much as we may disagree with their ideology, the Palestinian battle has a morsal of reason to it (which is not to say that any of their means of fighting are legitimate or that their distortions of history are acceptable. There is a country for Palestinians as understood by the term as those who lived in the Ottoman entity of Palestine and that is the Kingdom of Jordan that was created from the majority of the original territory…but I digress). However, what have Houthis of Yemen to do with it? What does Iran have to do with it?

 

But there is a deeper issue at hand as well. What was it that the Midianites did to the Israelites? They followed the advice of Balaam of Moav and attacked Israel on a moral level. They lured them into licentious behavior so that Hashem would turn His favor away from them.

 

So much of the world today seems to believe that Israel wants to be aggressive, that Israel deserves to be judged and condemned. That sentiment is not just about Israel and Zionists, but as we see through the general increase in anti-Semitism, it is about all of Klal Yisrael. The global situation today, while it is actually bringing many Jews closer to their Judaism and the community, is derailing the Jewish nation from their greater responsibility, which is to be an Ohr LeGeula, a light unto the nations.

 

We are not in a world today where Hashem directly communicates. We have no great leader to tell us exactly what to do and how. But we do have to recognize that through all the trials and tribulations our nation is going through, it is up to us to remember our mission. It is up to us to make an even greater effort to make a Kiddush Hashem and show the world who we truly are. We also have to know and recognize that it is okay to fight, it is okay to engage in war, to let the truth shine through.

 

May Hashem protect Israel and all of the brave men and women who must stand strong in the face of so much danger and who protect our nation both physically and spiritually.

301 – BRING THEM HOME, please Hashem.

 

Good Shabbas

Parshas Pinchas: At This Time

Dedicated to all of those on the front lines of fighting for Klal Yisrael in every capacity.

This Dvar Torah is being written on the fuel of a thought, a thought that kept leaking into my thoughts as I contemplated what to write…and it is definitively political.

 

This week’s parsha, Parshas Pinchas, is often associated with discussions of zealotry, even though Pinchus’ great act is recorded at the end of Parshas Balak, which was read last week. Pinchus’ renown comes from the fact that he took a spear and, with it, killed a Midianitess and a prince of the tribe of Shimon in one shot. He didn’t do it as a reaction. He didn’t do it in anger. He didn’t do it to show himself as smarter or stronger or holier.

 

Pinchus’ actions were spurred by an inherent understanding of the order needed in the world and how the actions of Zimri and Cosbi broke that order.  Pinchus was that finely attuned to the Divine will, even though he was the only one of his family who had not been elevated to the kahuna. Of course, that leads right into this week’s parsha’s actual discussion of Pinchus, which is that Hashem recognizes that Pinchus has the inherent nature of his immediate family and makes him a kohain.  

 

For some reason, knowing that it is Parshas Pinchas and that this week is the opening of the 2024 Olympics in Paris strikes a chord. Pinchus set himself into a dangerous situation – not only because those lured out by the Midianite women were, one might assume, not quite in their right mines due to enflamed passions, but also because those looking on might have reacted with violence to his action as a natural next step. And yet he still did that which was right.

 

One could, of course, immediately state that the Olympics are striking example of goals that are far outside of a Torah lifestyle, but the world is what the world is and the Israeli athletes who wish to represent the Jewish nation have stepped out of their tent, so to speak, and into a seethingly dangerous situation where once again passions are enflamed.

 

Balaam could not curse Bnei Yisrael, and so he found an alternate route. The State of Israel’s enemies could not crush Israel, and so they found an alternate route. Balaam sent women to seduce the men into sin. Just as Balaam was able to recognize Bnei Yisrael’s weak point, so it is today, only our weak point is international perception and, oddly enough, Israel’s own strength. Today, Israel’s enemy has been using an exceptionally well-honed PR campaign as well as professional protesters and they have enflamed the world.

 

Alas, today none of us are on a caliber anywhere close to Pinchus, for we live in an era of hester panim, of obfuscation. However, we can remember that what Pinchus did was, most importantly, a kiddush Hashem.

 

There is a general presumption that this upcoming display of nations showing their best athletes, but really their national pride, will see Israel met with ire that has a high likelihood of spilling into violence, especially when we have seen it before.

 

As Israel heads into this fraught situation, and, in truth, in the global situation that we now face, remembering Kiddush Hashem is incredibly important. The Jewish people, individually and collectively, must seek to be above other nations’ standards of behavior. This isn’t about whether Israel is right or wrong in its actions in Gaza – that is certainly far beyond my scope of understanding. Nor is this a statement of how one should react to the protestors directly – again a complicated question. Kiddush Hashem is about each of us as individuals.

 

We most often think of Kiddush Hashem as that which reflects Torahdig behaviour to others. There is, however, another element – which is inward. Facing a sea of hate and disparagement, we each have to know that our neshamos have unique missions and our worth and our value and our identity come from that, come from Hashem who assigned Bnei Yisrael a role. Remembering that fact, even when everyone around you is either acting against logic or cowering from reacting, leads to true kiddush Hashem.

 

May we each find the best way to fulfill our role in this world and may Hashem reveal emes to the world.

Parshas Balak – Was Balaam Holy?

 Dedication: Please Hashem, guard our nation from strife both internal and external!

Today’s Dvar Torah will be loosely cited and may not lead to a conclusion. It is, in some ways, a thought experiment. Certainly, these thoughts are answered by many great Torah minds in depth, but it seems beneficial to bring them to the forefront.

One of the most frequently spoken about topics in Jewish life, and one of the essential concepts in Jewish life, is bitachon. Trusting in Hashem means trusting that He is constantly and absolutely in charge. It sounds simple; it isn’t.

Those who master bitachon never want. This is the premise of being a baal bitachon. This statement, however, leads to many questions, especially for those of us who are not masters in our own bitachon. We’ve seen impoverished tzadikkim and incredible Torah teachers struck by terrible illnesses, which lead us to the question of – well if that’s never wanting, what will be for me!

It isn’t simple. In the sefer “Becoming a Ba’al Bitachon,” Rabbi Yechezkel Abramov, discuss the different understandings of this idea and spends time examining the opinion that Hashem gives baal bitachon the outcome they seek verses a baal bitachon sees in every outcome that Hashem has provided that which was best. Interestingly, these two ideas are critically important in this week’s parsha.

In parshas Balak, the Torah introduces Balaam. Balaam is considered the equal of Moshe in his ability to recognize Hashem in the world. He is the prophet of the nations, a balance to Moshe’s greatness.

Balaam fully recognized Hashem’s constant hand in this world so much that he received direct responses, which makes him far greater in bitachon than most people. Balak came to him because up until this point, Balaam had a magnificent record of having his requests fulfilled. One could even wonder if Balaam’s absolute faith that what he requested would be given made him a baal bitachon, equal to those whom we revere as tzaddikim.

 

On the other hand, when Balaam actually stood to pronounce curses upon the Nation of Israel, what came out were blessings. Hashem answered Balaam's prayers; He just answered them in the way that was best for the world and therefore best for Balaam. 

 

It is fascinating, when you read the parsha, to notice how calmly Balaam seems to react to each curse turned blessing. And when Balak rages at him, he says: “But I even told the messengers you sent to me, say ‘If Balak gives me his house full of silver and gold, I cannot transgress the word of the Lord to do either good or evil on my own; only what the Lord speaks can I speak” (24:12-13).

 

Balaam really does come across as a baal habitachon. And that leads to further questions. What does it mean  thatBalaam is a smarmy person who accepts money to curse a nation and later plots for the moral dissolution of the Israelite men? What does it mean that he is seen as a prophet by other nations and that a wicked king seeks him out in particular.

 

It means that Balaam was not a baal bitachon because while Balaam recognized that Hashem was the Master of the Universe and the One in charge, he felt no need to accept a moral code upon himself. Indeed, from his choices at the end of the parsha when he advices that the Midianite women go out to seduce the men of Israel, one can almost see an underlying defiance of the yoke of shemayim, one can sense a desire to find a work-around to the path Hashem has set for the world.

 

One of the most acknowledged facts about the Torah is that its “heros,” for lack of a better word, are human. They have flaws. So too, the “villains,” for lack of a better word,” have middos that we can emulate. Esav is renowned for kibbud av, Lot understood hachnassas orchim, and Balaam had bitachon. We look at people and too often we judge them only for their weaknesses and deficits rather than that which is good. This week, as we head into the three weeks when we mourn so much tragedy that has happened, let us look for the good in others and remember the importance of bitachon in our everyday lives.

 

Shabbat Shalom