Countering Chaos

Parshas Bechukosai

Posted on May 27, 2022 (5782) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

The majority of this week’s reading is devoted to G-d’s warning of severe curses that will come upon the Jewish nation, if it acts with disregard for the laws of the Torah. As these curses come from a loving G-d, they stem from a place of love, and are a warning intended to spur change. About this King Solomon wrote “The discipline of G-d, my son, do not detest, and do not loathe His reproach. For whom G-d loves, He reproaches, and as a father to a son, He will conciliate (Proverbs 3:11-12).”

 

As the reading turns to a second, new round of more severe curses, those words are preceded with words of guidance: “And if as a result of these [curses] you will not turn to Me, and you proceed with your lawlessness, I too will proceed with lawlessness…” It’s puzzling that this verse expresses G-d’s absolute justice as “lawlessness,” though it comes in response to Israel’s similar behavior — lawlessness for lawlessness. How could lawlessness, a lack of justice, be considered justice?

 

The regular protection of G-d is a blessing we often overlook, and that is what this verse intends to remind us about. If G-d removes His protection, the consequence is that we are left abandoned in a lawless world, where the elements of nature and man immediately endanger us. We are ordinarily under G-d’s constant protection, ensuring that our bodies function properly, and that we are safe from the dangers of our environment. The moment that protection is removed, we are vulnerable. (Based on the teachings of HaRav Yaakov Weinberg zt”l).

 

The modern world comes with many freedoms, for which we are grateful. However, what we see is that when freedom becomes the ultimate value, people demand to be free of even the most sensible restrictions on their personal liberty.

 

This is the challenge our world faces at this moment. We can’t ignore the effect it has on our personal attitudes, especially our spiritual life. When society throws off the restraints of civilization, we must strengthen and embrace G-d’s guiding laws.

 

When governments drop their restrictions, lives are endangered by the environment of lawlessness. To merit G-d’s protection from this loss of control, we need to embrace the controls G-d has blessed us with.

 

A Mountain of Inspiration

Parshas Behar

Posted on May 18, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

This week’s portion creates an eternal connection between Mount Sinai, the Jewish people, and the Torah itself. The fact that the Torah emphasizes its eternal association with Mount Sinai is meant to teach us important lessons regarding Judaism and Jewish life.

 

There are grand and majestic mountains that dot our planet. They are awe-inspiring in their height and strength, and they tower over us, making us feel puny and insignificant when standing at their base. I remember that when I was able to visit Mount McKinley in Alaska, a mountain which rises vertically more than 20,000 feet above the plane from which it emanates, the feeling of tension was so overpowering that people in our tour group burst into tears. The mountain blocks out the sun and creates its own weather.

 

However, the Torah was not given to human beings on Mount McKinley or Mount Everest or any of the other great mastiffs that exist in our world. Midrash teaches us that Mount Sinai was and is a relatively low mountain. The rabbis derived from this the emphasis on and the requirements of humility. Arrogance and godly values do not coexist. So, even though Mount Sinai is a mountain, it is a low mountain, one that can be scaled and conquered. And the achievement of climbing that mountain will not produce fanfare or notoriety.

 

If the Torah had been granted on Mount Everest it would be unreachable for almost all human beings. It was given on Mount Sinai, to emphasize that it is accessible to all, and that even though it is a mountain, it is one that can and must be scaled, to achieve the eternity that it promises human beings.

 

From the top of a mountain, one has a majestic view of the surrounding area. A mountain peak provides us with perspective, and the ability to judge the world from an overview as an observer, even though we are participants. Without that overview, is very difficult to make sense of life, or to have any personal sense of serenity or peace.

 

The prophet tells us that the wicked are like the raging sea whose waves constantly batter the shoreline but are always limited. Mountains, when appreciated, give us the blessings of unique wisdom, patience, and a sense of optimism and hope in our lives, no matter how bleak events may be, or how worrisome situations are.

 

Our father Abraham founded the Jewish people and brought “godliness” down to our earth. He saw that measure of godliness as being in the form of a mountain. His son, Isaac, would modify it so that it would become like a field. And his grandson Jacob would see it as being a house. But all of these characteristics still remain within Judaism. Mount Sinai exemplifies the mountain that Abraham saw.

 

Life is never an easy climb, but climb it we must, to be able to stand at its peak, and truly observe life in society in a measured and wise way.

 

Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Berel Wein

Grateful Bread

Parshas Behar Bechukosai

Posted on May 18, 2002 (5782) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha| Level: Beginner

It is rare to read two Torah portions together, each with nearly the exact verse. This week we read two portions: B’har, which commands the laws of shmita in which the Jewish nation lets its land lie fallow, and B’chukosai, which entails both blessing and curses bestowed upon the Jewish nation in response to its behavior.

 

But in each portion there is a similar blessing. The Torah tells us, both B’har and in B’chukosai, that if we deserve blessing then “you shall eat to satisfaction and live securely in your land.” (Leviticus 25:19 & Leviticus 26:5) Each time the Torah talks about eating to satisfaction, an agricultural issue, it suffixes a security issue. Now there are verses that deal with the curse of war and the blessing of peace. But why mention tranquility with eating?

 

Yankel was a vagabond. Every Friday he would spend the last of his few zloty at the bathhouse and barber and, well groomed, he would present himself in the synagogue as a respected businessperson from out-of-town. Then he would usually get a sumptuous Shabbos meal at the home of the wealthiest Jew in town. One Friday afternoon he was in the city of Lodz and inquired about the wealthiest Jew. “Velvel, the banker,” he was told “is definitely the wealthiest Jew. But he is also the stingiest. You never get a chance to eat the delicious dishes that he serves you!”

 

“How’s that?” asked Yankel.

 

“Well, as soon as you take you first bite he engages you in conversation. You begin to speak, and as soon as your eyes leave your plate, a waiter comes and snatches your food away!”

 

With a game plan in mind Yankel posed as a businessman from Warsaw, and got invited to Reb Velvel’s magnificent home. The table was set with exquisite china, and the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen made Yankel’s hungry mouth water.

 

After kiddush and challah, the first course was served, a succulent piece of white fish stuffed with gefilte fish. As Yankel speared it with his fork a voice boomed from the head of the table.

 

“So, Yankel, tell me, how is my cousin Shloime feeling? You must know Shloime, the tailor of Podolska Street in Warsaw?”

Yankel kept his fork embedded in the fish and held tight as he nodded somberly. “He’s dead.”

 

“What?” shrieked Reb Velvel, “Shloime is dead? How can that be?” He ran to the kitchen and shouted for his wife, while Yankel managed to finish his fish in comfort. He even got in a few nibbles off an adjoining plate. After the shock wore off, they served the soup.

 

After the first sip, the banker was quick to his old ways. “You don’t happen to know my father’s brother Reb Dovid the bookbinder, do you?”

 

With the waiter poised to pounce, Yankel nodded again. “He died too!”

 

“What?” cried the stunned host. “How can that be? I just got a letter from him last week!”

 

He ran next door to tell his brother the terrible news — while Yankel calmly finished his soup.

 

The main course, with chicken, kugel and tzimmes also saw the death of more members of the Warsaw community, each tiding throwing the banker into a tizzy. Meanwhile Yankel ate his portion and all the portions of those who were sickened by the terrible news that they had just heard.

 

By the time dessert came, the banker got hold of the scheme.

 

“What’s going on?” he shouted. “Are you trying to tell me that the entire Warsaw has dropped dead?”

 

“No,” answered Yankel, “what I am trying to tell you is that when I eat, the whole world drops dead!”

 

The blessing of plenty is worthless without serenity. Peace in your land is not only a blessing for military men. It is a blessing that enhances every aspect of life, from breaking ground to breaking bread. What good are storehouses of plenty or a wonderful economy without the peace and harmony in which to enjoy them?

 

Calm and composure are the greatest blessing. For without them, the bread of plenty can still be bread of affliction. The Torah does not give half-baked blessings. It tells us that we will eat our bread to satisfaction because it guarantees us peace in our land. For we must not only pray for sustenance, but also health, well being, and serenity with which to enjoy it.

 

Good Shabbos

Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky