Where Are You?

Parshas Bereishis

Posted on October 6, 2026 (5787) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

 

Creation. After 5756 years it still mystifies us. Where did the world begin, and where will it end.

 

We often forget to ask a question which is much more pertinent than how many stars are in the Milky Way. We forget to ask what are we doing on this world and where do we fit into the great picture of creation. This week we are reminded of that question by no one less than the Creator Himself.

 

After Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden, they were gripped with shame. They covered themselves with fig leaves and hid from the wrath of G-d. G-d, about to interrogate them, appears as if he is searching the Garden for them as if they would be fugitives from justice. Then seemingly in mock frustration, He asks a question quite unbecoming the Omnipotent, “Where are you?” I was always bothered. Why the shtick. He knew good and well exactly where they were, precisely what they had done, and why they were hiding. Why then the question, “Where are you?”

 

Perhaps there is a great lesson for us to learn from this. Even after we commit what we may think is the greatest sin and we wish that we would disappear, we tend to lose self-confidence and self-interest. Hashem doesn’t lose interest in us. He still asks for us. He wants to know where we are. He also wants us to know where we are.

 

In the town of Chelm, there was a man who was quite absent-minded. Upon going to the bathhouse, he was worried that without clothes he would forget who he was. He tied a red string around his big toe in order to make sure he would not lose his identity. Unfortunately, the string slipped off his toe and wound itself on the toe of a fellow bather. Shocked by seeing the string on his neighbor’s foot, he exclaimed, “I know who you are, but who am I?”

 

We often are occupied in asking “where is G-d?” or “who is G-d?” Sometimes our questions are placed in the present, “where is G-d?” Sometimes they are asked about the past, “where was G-d?” We are so caught up in the search for the unknown and the unseen that we often forget to search for ourselves. It is possible that G-d’s first question of man is an unremitting query that reverberates from time immemorial, “where are you?” Maybe we ought to ask ourselves constantly, “where are we?” We should analyze our standing in every aspect of life. After all, if G-d wants to know where we are shouldn’t we want to know too?

 

Dedicated by Dr. & Mrs. Dwight Herschman & Dr & Mrs. Ronnie Herschman In memory of Paula and George Herschman

 

Text Copyright © 1996 Rabbi M. Kamenetzky and Project Genesis, Inc.

An Imperfect World

Parshas Bereishis

Posted on October 24, 2019 (5780) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

The Garden of Eden is portrayed for us as being the perfect place. Mortality had not yet entered the way of the world, and our aged father and mother lived in an environment where everything was provided; food, shelter and freedom from external dangers. Yet, in this most idyllic of situations – one that we cannot begin to contemplate or imagine – temptation lurked even in this setting.

 

Humans are the union of the body and soul, and as such, perfection cannot be achieved.

 

Humans are destined to always be unsatisfied. We desire foods and pleasures that we do not need, and in fact are not beneficial to us, but we want them just because we haven’t acquired them yet. Once having achieved our goal and desire, so to speak, we are always disappointed and look to find another area of seeming pleasure, in order to satisfy our unquenchable thirst to attain more.

 

There was a famous comedic skit that was popular in the United States many decades ago about a very wealthy man who built an enormous mansion with many more rooms that he could ever populate or use. Nevertheless, he invited all his friends to the housewarming dedication of his mansion and gave them all a tour of this enormous building. As everyone was showering compliments upon him for having created this monstrosity, he was heard to remark: “This is nothing! Wait until you see the next house that I am going to build for myself.” His Garden of Eden was certainly still not enough.

 

The rabbis of the Mishnah accurately observed that the more one has, the more worries one acquires. Though Judaism does not preach poverty or austerity, it does emphasize moderation and for satisfaction not to be found in material items and pleasures alone. When Adam and Eve were driven from the perfect world that they had originally inhabited and were sent out into the dangerous and less-than-perfect world that we now inhabit, they never lost the original human drive that brought about their expulsion from that perfect world.

 

Wise men and women throughout the ages have always defined the struggles of society, its wars and decisions, its lack of fairness and the presence of so much evil, as being the futile attempt of humans to try and batter down the gates of that garden and reenter and create a perfect world. The obvious inability of human beings to do so only adds frustration and disappointment. It destroys societies and political systems and destabilizes seemingly great and powerful countries and nations.

 

But there is an inner voice that reminds us that we do have within us a piece of that perfect world, a system of morality and human goodness, kindness and obedience to the moral code that our Creator has fashioned for us. This enables us to survive and thrive in the imperfect world in which we now live.

 

Shabbat shalom
Rabbi Berel Wein

 The Nature of Human Behavior

Parshas Bereishis

Posted on October 12, 2012 (5773) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

There are many moral lessons that are derived from the story of creation as related to us in this parsha and also in next week’s parsha of Noach. One of the insights that I find most relevant and instructive has to do with the relationship of humankind to the animal kingdom and the rest of the natural world.

 

According to Jewish tradition Adam and Chava and their immediate descendants were herbivorous, subsisting on the fruit, plants and the bounty of the earth. According to rabbinic tradition the animal kingdom imitated the human species and also refrained from killing other creatures to satisfy their own daily need for food. The lion ate just as the elephant did, the leopard as did the giraffe. In short, the animal kingdom followed the lead of the human species.

 

It was only after the Great Flood and the new lower level of human existence that the Lord allowed humankind – Noach and his descendants – to become flesh eaters and to kill animals for human purposes and gain. The rabbis again taught us that this change in human behavior precipitated a change in animal behavior as well. Now deadly predators and killers stalked other creatures in the animal world.

 

Judaism sees humans as the primary creature in the process of creation. It is human behavior that influences animal behavior. Those who deny a Divine Creator have it the other way round – it is animal behavior that influences human behavior and civilization. To them, humans are not exceptional and unique creatures. A human is just a more dangerous lion or leopard or crocodile.

 

The prophet Yeshayahu, in his majestic and soaring description of the utopian era – the end of days – states that the lion will lie down with the lamb and that war between nations will no longer be possible. Maimonides chose to view this prophecy in an allegorical sense rather than in a literal sense. He interprets it as stating that large and powerful nations will no longer impose their will and wring unfair concessions from poorer and weaker countries.

 

This is in line with his statement that nature will not change in any given way even when the messianic era of the end of days arrives. However, there are many great scholars and commentators who reject this idea of a rather bland messianic era as foretold by Maimonides.

 

Instead, they state categorically that nature will change and that predators such as the lion and the bear will now revert back to their original state at the time of creation and become wholly herbivorous.

 

Again, that seems to presuppose that humans, when giving up war and violence in the messianic era will no longer eat the flesh of animals, and herbivorous humans will influence the animal world to do the same. There remains the problem of what to do then with animal sacrifices in the Jerusalem Temple.

 

Answers are advanced but as is easily understood, the topic is esoteric and no one really knows what that world of the messiah will look like. But it is clear that Judaism preaches that the animal kingdom follows the behavior of the human race and certainly not vice versa.

 

Shabat shalom.

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

 

The Happiness Box

Sukkos

Posted on October 17, 2019 (5780) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

Every once in a while, when reading a bed time story to the younger children I find myself in the end wiping a tear from the corner of my eye and wondering if any of the children are really capable of appreciating the depth of the seemingly simple story, if it is not meant more for the parents and if we get it either.

 

One such book reappeared on the bookshelf recently. It must have been with all the stuff for sukkot because it certainly belongs there. It’s called, “The Happiness Box”. The plot is something like this. There’s this kid that’s never happy with what he has. He finds things to complain about all day. Whatever he has is not enough or not just right and all he can find is fault.

 

One day after his family moves into a beautiful new house a giant package arrives. It’s a washing machine or some other large appliance and the kid is suffering from existential nausea because it’s not for him. His clever father convinces him that the box is the real item of desire and it’s just for him.

 

It’s called “a happiness box” and while inside one must think only happy thoughts.

 

This boy accepts the premise of the box and at first begrudgingly but later with greater ease is able to generate happiness producing thoughts such as; “Sometimes my mother makes dinners I like.” And other such affirming statements that put him into a state of mind that makes him feel rich and full.

 

After a while he’s complaining a lot less. Then he becomes anxious about going to summer camp because all his possessions need to fit neatly into a duffel bag and he would have to leave “the box” at home. What would become of his state of happiness? He then realizes the great truth that the happiness is not in his box but in his head. The important life lesson is well learned. The children are fast asleep, but I am more awake.

 

The simple child’s story reminds me a little of a bad joke about a fellow who claims his dog is so talented he can do anything he is commanded to do. The challenge is taken up by a friend who throws a stick a distance and commands the dog, “Fetch!”

 

The dog looks up at him and begins his diatribe. “All day long people tell me what to do. Roll over! Jump! Go through the fiery hoop! Good dog. Bad dog. Sit! Heal. Eat this! Don’t eat that! I can’t take it anymore. It’s no fun being a dog. I hate it. I wish I were never born! The fellow interrupts the dog and tells him with a sense of outrage, “All I asked you to do was fetch.” The dog answers back with surprise, “Ohhhhhh! I thought you said “Kvetch”.

 

Sukkos is referred to in our liturgy as “the time of our happiness”. How do we celebrate? We leave our lovely homes and sit exposed to the elements in little boxes. We are commanded by the Torah; “and you should rejoice with your holiday and be only happy!”

 

Maybe the story is not so simplistic and the joke not so (as we say in yiddish) “farfetched”. It’s very easy to be focused on what’s missing in life; to give special recognition to the cruel and heartless; to the unfinished business of history and history of business. Even more so these days we need a way to regain a sense of optimism. How about 7 days in “a happiness box” to see what’s right in G-d’s world. Hearing clearly the commandment as it is pronounced is a critical point. No where does it say, “kvetch”!

 

We all know how we can feel sometimes and how it creates a contagion of negativity. Therefore, we hung two signs in our sukkah. One upon entering reads, “You are entering a no kvetching zone”. The other posted prominently reads, “Don’t even think of kvetching in the sukkah!” The Vilna Gaon called this the hardest mitzvah in the Torah to fulfill. So, don’t expect it to happen with a simple story, a bad joke, by reciting an imperative verse, or by hanging a humorous sign but it sure is a good beginning.

A Perfect Cycle

Sukkos

Posted on September 25, 2007 (5768) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

Sukkot comes at the exact right time of the year, psychologically and emotionally speaking. If it were not for the advent of Sukkot and all of the preparations involved regarding this festival of joy and happiness, we would all be very depressed at having to climb down from the pinnacle of Yom Kippur to everyday mundane existence.

 

The Torah allows us to contemplate our future year with a sense of happiness and satisfaction.

 

The sukkah signifies the protection that the Lord will provide us with for the whole coming year.

 

Though the actual sukkah may be small and relatively flimsy as compared to our homes, it nevertheless symbolizes faith, serenity and confidence in the eternity of Israel and its Torah.

 

The four species of vegetation that are an integral part of Sukkot reinforce our appreciation of the beauty of God’s world. It reminds us that the world can be a Garden of Eden and we should endeavor not to destroy it or be expelled from it.

 

The different species represent the harmony of nature, the flash of its color and its built-in symbiotic nature. Whereas pagans worshipped nature, Judaism stressed its role as being one of the great wonders of G-d’s creation.

 

Abraham had it right when he stated that people wonder at the magnificence of a beautiful building but ignore the genius of the architect that designed it. Judaism, while always impressed by the wonder of the building itself, always looks intently to recognize and acknowledge the architect behind it.

 

Sukkot helps remind us of the necessity to always search for that architect in all of the facets of our lives and world.

 

Sukkot also reveals clearly our dependence upon Heaven for rain – for water. Without water in abundance, life cannot function and grow. The Torah tells us that the Lord sent us purposely into a land where water is a precious commodity. There are no great rivers or giant lakes that appear on the landscape of the Land of Israel. We are therefore dependent on the winter season’s rains.

 

We pray on Sukkot for those rains to be abundant, gentle and saturating. Rain has a cleansing effect not only on the air we breathe but on the life-spirit that exists within us. Hence its deep association with the joy of Sukkot.

 

Rain and water also symbolize Torah and purification. Moshe, in his final oration to Israel, states that his words of Torah should be felt as gentle rain and dew descending on the Holy Land. The prophet Yeshayahu compares Torah to water as does King David in Tehillim.

 

The holiday of Sukkot reinforces this connection with its own link to Simchat Torah, the day that marks the conclusion of this great and noble holiday period. For as obvious as it is that the Land of Israel cannot survive and prosper without water, so too the people of Israel will be unable to prosper and survive without an attachment to Torah, its commandments and values.

 

The message of Sukkot is the perfect conclusion to the spirituality of Yom Kippur.

Chag sameach.

 

Rabbi Berel Wein Rabbi Berel Wein- Jewish historian, author and international lecturer offers a complete selection of CDs, audio tapes, video tapes, DVDs, and books on Jewish history at www.rabbiwein.com

 

Pursuit Of Peace

Sukkos

By Rabbi Shlomo Jarcaig

 

Our daily evening prayers contain an interesting petition to the Almighty: “Spread over us the Succah of Your peace.” Our Sages explain that the Succah is representative of the six Clouds of Glory that surrounded and protected the Children of Israel throughout their travels in the wilderness. These clouds remained with them through the merit of Aaron, the Kohen Gadol (High Priest). The attribute that Aaron epitomized was a lover and pursuer of peace. In what way does the Succah represent peace more than the other mitzvos (Divine commandments)? And what is the meaningful connection between Aaron’s loving and pursuing of peace and our observance of this mitzvah?

 

Rabbi Eliezer Dessler (1) explains that when we leave our houses and move into Succah booths for a week, we remind ourselves how little we really control our circumstances. By leaving the “security” of our brick and mortar homes and subjecting ourselves to the forces of nature, we are reminding ourselves that there is nothing given and absolute in the physical world. All of its structures and pleasures are temporal; only our Torah study and mitzvos have a lasting effect.

 

Our only true control is over the decisions we make in the situations in which we find ourselves.

 

This was Aaron’s unique trait. Aaron was chosen by G-d to be the High Priest, the Divine emissary to connect the Jewish people to G-d. Once the paradigm shifts and spirituality becomes the national priority, the realization soon follows that another’s spiritual growth is to my benefit. There is no room for jealousy beyond the physical world. With this achievement, peace is the natural byproduct.

 

Aaron chased after peace because he understood the “win-win”: everyone involved gained spiritually from the process, and the dividend was communal peace.

 

In our contemporary world of techno-gadgets, the lesson of the Succah is all the more essential to remind us of our limitations and enable our focus on our real priorities. With this may we merit the experience of genuine peace prevailing among us.

 

Have a Good Shabbos and a Good Yom Tov!

 

(1) in Michtav Me’Eliyahu, his collected writings and discourses; 1891- 1954; of London and B’nai Brak, one of the outstanding personalities and thinkers of the Mussar movement

Here's an excerpt from a longer parsha I thought was a good summary of the cycle on the calendar we've been through recently ....

Autumn marks the entry to the darker, colder days of winter. But autumn is not only a time of harvest; it is also a time to plant that which will bloom in the coming spring. We know that the physical realm is really a reflection of the spiritual. With Simchas Torah we culminate the sowing of these last thirteen weeks. The Three Weeks, Tisha B’Av, the four weeks of Elul, Rosh HaShanah, the ten days of return, Yom Kippur, Succos and Simchas Torah have been months invested with contemplation, invigoration and commitment to make this new cycle one of development and progress in our spiritual growth.

 

To be sure, there will be challenges to our resolve, times that are “dark and cold”. But we are secure with the confidence that G-d rewards human efforts with the daily gifts called “the course of nature” and these presents are forthcoming for our spiritual sustenance as well as our physical. We will have our successes – some “miraculous”, some “natural”. But come next spring, when Pesach brings the cycle of holidays that celebrate a new harvest of spiritual bounty, we will recall these days of planting and humbly rejoice in the Divine presents each day brings.

 

Good Shabbos and Good Yom Tov!

 

Open Door Policy

Parshas Haazinu

Posted on October 2, 2024 (5784) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

They are among the most stirring words in the Torah. In vermilion verse, Moses calls upon heaven and earth to bear witness to the poetic image he is about to conjure of Hashem’s awesome majesty and His special relationship with the Jewish people. The Song of Moses, which we read in this week’s portion, is a stunning eulogy characterized by sharp rebuke but also glorious hope.

 

Towards the beginning of his Song, Moses inserts an enigmatic cue for the Jewish people. “As I call out the Name of Hashem, declare the greatness of our Lord!” These are very puzzling lines.

 

Since the entire Song is a declaration of Hashem’s greatness, what exactly was he asking the people to contribute? Furthermore, why does Moses calling out Hashem’s Name trigger the Jewish declaration of Hashem’s greatness?

 

Let us look for a moment into the first portion of the Torah, which we will be reading in just a few weeks. After the serpent subverts Adam and Eve and causes then to be expelled from the Garden of Eden, Hashem curses him, “And you shall eat dust all the days of your life.”

 

The commentators wonder: How severe can this curse be if it assures the serpent of a plentiful supply of food at all times? This exactly is the essence of the curse. the commentators explain.

 

Man, who must struggle for his sustenance, is always calling out to the Creator for help and support, and as a result, man’s very needs provide him with the transcendent rewards of a relationship with Him. The serpent, however, was given everything he would ever need and cast aside, without any prospect of enjoying a spiritual relationship with Hashem.

 

This is what Moses was saying to the Jewish people. When they hear him call out the Name of Hashem, when they realize how immensely privileged they are in that they can always call out to Hashem, that they can raise themselves up spiritually by connecting with Him, then they should declare Hashem’s greatness. For surely this precious gift, the opportunity for mortal man to bond with the divine, is one of the greatest kindnesses that He has ever bestowed upon his people.

 

A king was very displeased with the behavior of one of his sons. Despite being warned many times, the young prince persisted in his profligate ways, and presently, the king could no longer tolerate the situation. With a heavy heart, he banished the prince to a distant province and decreed that he live the rest of his life as a commoner, without any of the privileges of royalty.

 

On the day the prince was to leave the palace, the king came into his room and handed him a tiny sealed box.

 

“Take this, my son,” he said. “Although you are banished from the palace, this box may help you in times of most dire need.”

 

Years passed. The prince managed to survive without the protective cocoon of privilege, but not with exceedingly great difficulty. In the hardest of times, however, he knew in the back of his mind that when all else failed he could break open the sealed box and use the riches it contained.

 

One time, he was in such a desperate situation that he had no choice but to open the box. He fully expected to find it filled with diamonds, but to his surprise, it contained a piece of paper folded over many times.

 

With trembling hands, he unfolded the paper and read it. Then he burst into tears. It was a letter from the king allowing the banished prince to enter the palace and present any request directly to the king. This letter, the prince realized, was a more precious gift than a boxful of the finest jewels.

 

In our own lives, when we stand before Hashem and pour out our hearts in prayer, it is important for us to realize that the very act of prayer is its own reward, that the relationship we form with Hashem through intense spiritual communication is far more important than many of the things for which we pray. Hopefully, during this season of hope and prayer, Hashem will grant us all long life, health, prosperity and joy. But it’s important to remember that even before all these blessings are delivered to our doorsteps, we have already been immeasurably enriched through the very act of prayer.

 

Text Copyright &copy 2007 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Humble Beginnings

 

Parshas Haazinu

Posted on September 13, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

 

This week, Moshe composes the song of Ha’azinu. It is a hauntingly prophetic piece replete with predictions and admonitions. It extols the virtues of Israel and forewarns them of a perilous future, if they disobey the Torah. He finishes the song, standing side by side with his disciple Yehoshua, as he prepares to transfer the mantle of leadership. Deuteronomy 32:34: “Moshe came and spoke all the words of this song in the ears of the people, he and Hoshea the son of Nun.”

 

Moshe equates his own stature with that of his student in order to show the world his high regard for the future leader to whom he had entrusted his people. Yet there is something strange. Yehoshua is not referred to by the regal name that Moshe had long since given him; rather he is called Hoshea. Before the hazardous mission of the spies forty years prior, Moshe added the Hebrew letter yud to Hoshea’s name. The yud represented the name of Hashem and served to protect Hoshea from the malicious intent of the slanderous spies.

 

From that day on, Hoshea is always referred to as Yehoshua.

 

Why then at the height of Yehoshua’s career, on the day he is to take over the reign of power, does the Torah refer to him as Hoshea? Is the Torah surreptitiously diminishing his stature? Isn’t that exactly what the Torah would like to avoid?

 

On April 12, 1945, Vice-President Harry S. Truman was summoned to the White House. He was shown to the sitting room of the First Lady, Eleanor Roosevelt. Gently, she told him that President Roosevelt was dead.

 

After a few moments of stunned silence, Mr. Truman composed himself and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you, Mrs. Roosevelt?”

 

The First Lady shook her head. “Is there anything we can do for you? For you are the one who is in trouble now.”

 

Perhaps Yehoshua’s crowning moment was also meant to be quite sobering. He was made to realize that the force behind his greatness would no longer be with him. The man who had crowned him with the glory of G-d’s name was joining the Creator, leaving Yehoshua alone and diminished. He was now just Hoshea.

 

It was now up to Yehoshua to remember from whence his greatness came. Often, we bask in the spotlight of greatness and expect to glow when the radiance is turned off.

 

Unfortunately, we are not made of phosphorous. The time comes when our light must shine from within our own selves. Sure, enough from that moment on, Hoshea shines as Yehoshua.

 

Given the task we will shine too.

 

 

Mordechai Kamenetzky – Yeshiva of South Shore

Good Shabbos