Saturday, July 11, 2026

 

History and Your Story

Parshas Masei

Posted on July 28, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah Level: Beginner

 

Moshe wrote their goings out according to their journeys at the bidding of HASHEM, and these were their journeys according to their going out…” (Bamidbar 33:2)

 

These are the journeys: Why were these journeys recorded? To inform us of the kindliness of the Omnipresent…-Rashi

 

This is the introduction to the 42 journeys made by the Jewish People during their 40-year stay in the desert. There are a few points to take note of here. Their journeys were “at the bidding of HASHEM”. They were not wandering aimlessly. Every move was according to Divine guidance.

 

Also, it seems that Moshe is keeping a journal, a travel log and writing down all of the journeys.

 

What would be the purpose of documenting all the traveling that the Jewish People did? Rashi tells us that it is in order to inform us of HASHEM’s kindliness. How so?!

 

Years ago, I started a big project traveling throughout New York City and the New York Metropolitan area. I was charged with learning Torah with big businessmen, doctors, lawyers, men of industry, and influence. Before taking my first baby step onto the field I realized I had a problem. I had been learning in Yeshiva for years and teaching in Hebrew Day School but I had little experience in the business world and I was feeling outmatched and ill equipped to sit before people with vastly more practical and worldly experience than I had. So, I approached a senior colleague for some advice. Here was a man with many-many years of experience in the field. For sure he could answer my burning question. I asked him, “Which periodicals shall I subscribe to? What should I be reading and studying in order to remain current and in the conversation?” He looked at me oddly. Then he gave an answer I never expected but it turned out to be priceless for this project and ever since. He said, “You don’t need to subscribe to any particular periodical. Just know your own story! Know your story!”

 

I was more than a little surprised, but I took it to heart. I went home and started writing my life story.

 

It was an amazingly therapeutic process and it has proven to be very practical. I have learned to spell out some version of that “story” whether I have 2 minutes in the elevator or an hour in front of a large audience. People are always fascinated and beyond curious to hear about me and how I transitioned from being an all American-Jewish kid who went to public school and was captain of the football, basketball, and baseball teams, but ended up in Yeshiva and is raising a Torah family. How does one get from here to there or there to here?

 

Maybe that explains why over and over again the Torah records not only where the Jewish People traveled to but where they came from each time. That’s part of the story. Each move is a fascinating chapter by itself. How does one transition from there, wherever it is we came from, to here, to where we find ourselves now? Life is way too interesting. Truth is stranger and more symphonic than fiction!

 

King Solomon writes, “Trust in HASHEM with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding. In all your ways know Him, and He will make your ways straight.” (Mishlei 3:5-6)

 

What is King Solomon the wisest of all men telling us here? This is how to live a successful life.

 

Trust in HASHEM with your whole heart. We cannot possibly manage enough details in life to create a guaranteed result. We need to work with our Supreme Partner, HASHEM. That is Bitachon. (trust in G-d) It’s a division of labor. I do my job and my All-Knowing Partner I must trust will take care of the rest. What is my job? Know HASHEM in all my ways. We follow daily Torah instructions, some spiritual by nature and others quite earthy. We are painting by numbers.

 

Standing up close to the canvas of life it is hard to discern what we are doing. When we stand back and observe where we have been, a beautiful picture is revealed. We just tried to do the right thing at each moment and in the end a masterpiece emerges. “Who wrote this beautiful story?!” It can only be attributed to the author of all existence and the playwright of history and your story.

 


Growing Pains

Parshas Masei

Posted on August 1, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Elly Broch | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

 

“These are the journeys of the children of Israel, who went forth from the land of Egypt according to their legions, under the hand of Moshe and Aaron.” (Bamidbar/Numbers 33:1) The beginning of the portion details the entire forty-year journey traveled by the nation, from their departure from Egypt until their encampment across the Jordan River, prepared to enter the land of Israel. As the Torah contains no extraneous letters, no less extra words, why was it deemed necessary to recall all these locations, each already explained in detail in the previous sections of the Torah?

 

Sforno (1) expounds that G-d recorded all the stages of the travel to teach us the devotion of our forebears who followed him in the terrible wilderness. It was that devotion that earned them entry into the land of Israel. The Torah reports numerous weaknesses and faults of the Jewish nation – they denied the benefits they had received, often declaring they would prefer to live in Egypt, they slandered the Promised Land and Moshe, and they provoked quarrels. Now, the Torah describes another side of Israel, revealing the national trust in the Divine, following G-d in the harsh wilderness despite the challenges.

 

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 110b) records the statement of Rabbi Yochanan that the generation that traveled the wilderness was very highly regarded by G- d, despite the recorded infractions they perpetrated. This generation was chosen to be witnesses of the most wondrous miracles demonstrating the presence of the Master of the Universe – the Ten Plagues, the Splitting of the Sea, the national prophesy of the Revelation at Sinai. But because of this exalted status and greater responsibility they were the recipients of severe chastisement.

 

The period in the wilderness was the paradigm of how our physical life in this physical world is a test in recognizing the Creator: “And you shall remember all the way which Hashem your G-d had led you these forty years in the wilderness, in order to afflict you, to test you…He afflicted you and he caused you to hunger in order to make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but by all that comes from the mouth of Hashem…As a man chastises his son, so G-d chastises you.” (Devarim/Deuteronomy 8:2-5).

 

A superficial reading of the text could yield the erroneous conclusion that this generation was rebellious, unappreciative, and impudent. However, a careful study reveals that they were subjected to challenges and were faulted for even reasonable arguments due to their exalted stature and privileged existence. G-d was training them to be cognizant of His presence, His love and His intervention, not unlike strict measures a parent may use with his child to impart essential lessons.

 

Rabbi Eliyahu Munk (2) asserts that this lesson applies to every generation. We, the Jews of 2000 years of Diaspora life, have had our travel through “the wilderness”. We have trekked through places and times of great physical and spiritual challenge, filled with our own “fiery serpents and scorpions, arid lands with no water”. And we could not have survived without copious doses of Divine Mercy. The “great civilizations” of history – the Greeks, Persians, Babylonians, and Romans – all exist today as only an archaeological relic. The Jewish people, while our numbers may be small, thrive and flourish to this day.

 

We have experienced various vicissitudes both in our physical and spiritual condition, but as a nation we are still vivacious in following the Creator. As did our ancestors we have crossed the wilderness, the continents and the centuries, by following our devotion to the Divine.

 

Have a Good Shabbos!

 

The Stuff of Real Life

Parshas Masei

Posted on July 6, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

This week’s Torah portion concludes with an overview of the Jewish nation’s wanderings in the wilderness, as well as key laws and preparations associated with their inheriting the land. Moshe Rabbeinu designated six Levite cities, three in Eretz Yisrael and three in Trans-Jordan, as cities of refuge where an accidental murderer can escape an avenger from the victim’s family.

 

Although his act of homicide was not premeditated, the Torah considers him culpable for being negligent and not adequately protecting another’s life. The time he spends in the Ir Miklat will enable him to realign his values and correct the habits that led to his negligent behavior. The Levite city was the ideal place to achieve this rehabilitation. The Levites were landless and wholly devoted to teaching and guiding their fellow Jews. Even while in Egypt, the Levites were preoccupied with spiritual advancement and distanced themselves from the pursuit of material prosperity.

 

Their conduct was emblematic of the highest degree of moral responsibility. Living among people of this caliber would re-educate and sensitize the murderer to the supreme sanctity of human life.

 

The Talmud asks why were there precisely the exact number of “refuge” cities in Trans Jordan as there were in Israel? After all, Trans Jordan was only home to two and a half tribes, while the remaining nine lived in Israel. Why not distribute the cities of refuge in a way that would more accurately reflect the demographics?

 

The Talmud answers that in Trans Jordan there were more homicides and the population’s sensitivity to human life became diminished. The likelihood of accidental murder was therefore greater. The average citizen was less conscious of the need to exert himself to the utmost to protect his fellow Jew; he would be more likely to pursue his own needs at the expense of his fellow citizen.

 

The great sage R’ Itzel of Volozhin offers a different interpretation of the Talmud’s assertion that bloodshed was more prevalent in Trans-Jordan, thus requiring more cities of refuge in that region. The problem, he explains, lay not in the higher incidences of accidental homicide in Trans-Jordan but in the over-eagerness to avenge it. Since the inhabitants of Ever HaYarden were less sensitive to murder, it was far more likely that an accidental killer would be pursued by a family member driven to exact vengeance for unsavory reasons. The Torah therefore provided the perpetrator with more immediate access to an Ir Miklat.

 

The culture of tolerance toward bloodshed would delude people into thinking they were motivated by moral principles in trying to avenge their relative’s death, when all too often they were simply trying to even the score with a hapless fellow Jew.

 

The underlying message of the portion is that nothing affects our mindset and value system more than our social environment. We are all conditioned by repeated and constant exposure to the prevailing culture. Harmful outside influences can easily pollute our ability to distinguish right from wrong and can easily desensitize us from appreciating the value and sanctity of every human’s life.

 

This underscores the importance of ensuring that our homes are bastions of light, joy and an appreciation for the kedusha of Klal Yisroel. These values must permeate the atmosphere to the point where they are imprinted on the minds and hearts of our children. Only by building our homes according to the Torah’s blueprint can we turn them into lighthouses of positive energy. They will thus become the miniature ‘cities of refuge’ that will protect ourselves and our families from the steady onslaught of moral decay and corruption in the surrounding culture.

 

Wishing you a wonderful Shabbos

 

Saturday, July 4, 2026

 


It Takes a Family…

Parshas Pinchas

Posted on July 14, 2017 (5777) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah Level: Beginner

 

These were the numbers of the Levites according to their families: the family of the Gershonites from Gershon, the family of the Kohathites from Kohath, the family of the Merarites from Merari. These were the families of Levi: the family of the Libnites, the family of the Hebronites, the family of the Mahlites, the family of the Mushites, the family of the Korahites and Kehat begot Amram. (Bamidbar 26:57-58)

 

I think I detect a theme. In these two verses the word or some derivative of this word is used 10 times, “MISHPACHA”- “family”. The Nation of Israel is built almost entirely on this single organizational principle; family. Therefore, it might prove worthwhile to gain an appreciation of the meaning of that one Hebrew word, “MISHPACHA”.

 

The word MISHPACHA is related to the word SHIFCHA which oddly means a maidservant. How does that help define a family?

 

A senior colleague told me that that when he was a young man pursuing his doctorate in philosophy a professor made the bold declaration; “The Jewish Bible is the source of human rights in the world!” All of the students diligently wrote it down in their notebooks but this curious fellow who was the only Jew in the class, promptly approached the teacher and challenged him, “Where is it written in the Jewish Bible any verse that promises human rights?”

 

The professor wondered if he in fact agreed with his claim that the Jewish Bible is the source of human rights in the world. The student agreed wholeheartedly. He was merely curious as to what the source might be.

 

This was a case of the student giving the teacher a homework assignment. A week later he came back to class and admitted that he could not find a single verse that supported his statement. He was mystified. Everybody in the history department agreed. The literature department, and the sociology department agreed too. So, he fed the question back to his student, “Maybe you have the answer!”

 

This budding young scholar answered as follows: “Let’s take for example one verse, that great-general principle in the Torah “And you should love your neighbor as your-self!” The implication of that statement is that everyone has a right to be loved. When I walk into a room, since you are all obligated to love me, I have a right to be loved! The only difference is that the Torah never came as a “bill of rights” but rather as a “bill of responsibilities””.

Imagine how much more love exists in a relationship when both parties know what they owe in love as opposed to when each demands that their rights be met. How much more love is in the room when every member of a family knows that they are duty bound to love and happily contribute. How much greater is an entire community or a nation when it is composed of individuals who live up to this universal notion and categorical imperative to “love your neighbor as your-self”!

 

A family is a place where people learn to serve each other. On any given Erev Shabbos someone is sweeping and someone else is polishing shoes, while another person is peeling potatoes. Everyone contributes! A family is a microcosm of the whole world and is its most fundamental building block. How so? It is the training ground that prepares people for life in the greater community. Each home has its own signature style, and cultural flavor, but this quality of serving others is an immutable standard.

 

How important is a family? When my wife and I were just beginning to look for a match for our oldest son, we decided to call my Rebbe for guidelines. He is a huge Talmud scholar, and he had already married off 13 children. We were ready for a long list. He answered the phone and we explained the reason for our call. He said without hesitation and emphatically, “Look for a family! A girl comes from a family!” I asked, “Is there anything else?” He said, “No! That’s it! Good night!” We were stunned. Some have said “it takes a village to raise a child” but I think we can declare with certainty and appreciate the simple fact it takes a family…



Breaches in the Wall

Parshas Pinchas

Posted on June 29, 2026 (5786) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

Two thousand years ago, Roman armies surrounded and laid siege to Jerusalem, and life inside the city became one continuous purgatory. Huge boulders, flung by mammoth siege engines, came screaming over the walls, smashing into buildings, pulverizing them and everything inside. Hailstorms of arrows filled the air, and fires raged everywhere. Some managed to find a bit of shelter, but there was no shelter from the rampant disease and starvation.

 

On the Seventeenth of Tammuz, the Romans breached the walls of the city, and the three-week-long destruction of the city began. This past week, on the anniversary of this national tragedy, we fasted and we grieved. We grieved for the pain and suffering of our people, for the destruction of our homeland, and for the interminable exile to which we were condemned.

 

We are accustomed to speaking about the “dark and bitter exile” of the Jewish people but let us stop and take stock for a moment. Those of us living in the United States enjoy full rights under the law and unrestricted financial opportunities. We are free, prosperous and respected. Do we see ourselves as exiles? Do we feel any emotional kinship with our ancestors who were led away in chains and sold into slavery after the destruction of Jerusalem? How are we to relate to our being in exile?

 

Perhaps we can find the keys to this dilemma in this week’s Torah reading. After a close brush with disaster at the hands of Balak and Bilaam, the Jewish people are corrupted by the Midianites who send their own daughters to entice the Jewish people into sin. The Torah exacts a terrible vengeance for this treachery, ordering the Jewish people to crush the Midianites mercilessly. And yet, the Torah tells us to be grateful to the Egyptians, even though they enslaved the Jews for centuries, because they provided hospitality to our people in times of distress. How incongruous this seems as first glance! The Egyptians who oppressed, enslaved and tried to annihilate the Jews are to be treated with kid gloves, while the Midianites are to be crushed?!

 

The commentators explain that the difference between the Egyptians and the Midianites lay in the focus their attack. The Egyptians sought the physical destruction of the Jews, and every decree was designed to accomplish that end. The Midianites wanted to subvert the Jews spiritually, and that is far more destructive. The direction, the goal, the very life of the Jew is spiritual, and therefore, the attack of the Midianites was direct and against the very essence of the Jewish people.

 

A king wanted to prepare his two sons for the responsibilities of government, and so he dressed them as commoners and sent them into the land to make their own way. They were not to return for ten years. The older son immediately set about seeking employment. Over the years, he moved from one job to another, and eventually he formed connections with organized crime and grew very rich.

 

The younger son sought out different sages and mentors from whom he could learn about his country. He had very little to eat and his clothing became tattered, but his quest for knowledge was relentless. As the day of reunion drew near, the older son hired the finest tailors to dress him as befitted a prince. The younger son, however, practically stopped eating and sleeping so that he could cram in as much knowledge as possible before returning to the king.

 

After ten years both sons came before the king. On the day of the reunion. The older son looked every bit the prince, but as soon as the king began to converse with him, he was sorely disappointed. The ostensible prince was no more than an empty-headed, shifty-eyed shopkeeper! The younger son, however, despite his bedraggled appearance, was a true delight, wise, intelligent, sensitive, clearly the best choice to become crown prince.

 

If the Jewish people are to be the crown princes of the world, it will not be their material possessions which qualify them but their spiritual achievements. The freedom we enjoy in the United States today is certainly a wonderful thing, but it also presents a serious danger.

 

We have been lulled into a sense of complacency. Our spiritual walls have been breached, and we are under a relentless cultural attack. We are indeed in exile, an exceedingly insidious and subtle exile. Our only defense is to dam up the breach in our own personal lives, to saturate our lives with the Torah spirit, to reaffirm our unswerving commitment to Torah values and ideals.

 

Our very survival as a nation is at stake.

 

Text Copyright © 2007 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Saturday, June 27, 2026

 

Everyday Miracles

Parshas Chukas

Posted on June 15, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Pinchas Avruch | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

 

The Mishna (Rosh HaShanah 3:8) notes the similarity between the raised hands of Moshe during the battle with Amalek and the copper snake atop the staff that induced healing for those bitten by the serpents following their complaint against G-d’s justice. “And it happened that when Moshe raised his hand Israel was stronger and when he lowered his hand Amalek was stronger.” (Shemos/Exodus 17:11) But could Moshe’s hands wage a battle or lose a battle? Rather this is to teach that whenever Israel looked on high and subjugated their heart to their Father in Heaven they prevailed, but if not they failed. Likewise we understand, “G-d said to Moshe, ‘Make yourself a fiery serpent and place it on a pole and it will be that anyone who was bitten will look at it and live.'” (Bamidbar/Numbers 21:8)

 

Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler (1) comments that these events demonstrate the incredible power inherent in a tangible image to impact the heart, for without such images it would be impossible for a person to focus and inculcate into the depths of his heart the spiritual concepts he has learned. The importance of this truth is why the Torah so strongly emphasizes the psychological effect of a physical icon.

 

Rabbi Dessler explains that the potential that comes from looking heavenward is the contemplation of the capacity for evil that is called “Amelek”. The nation of Amelek is the living manifestation of this awful force, but the capability for such malevolence is latent in everyone.

 

Witnessing Moshe’s hands heavenward inspired the warriors’ reflection on their own deeds and attitudes, as did the meditation of the Jewish Nation on the copper snake.

 

Rabbi Dessler further elucidates that this clarifies the rationale for the Torah’s choice of Hebrew verbiage to reference the pole – “nais” – a word that is commonly used to refer to a miracle.

 

One who contemplates the delicacy and magnificence of an orchid or the human eye appreciates that “nature” is simply the miracles to which we are accustomed due to our constant exposure. This familiarity serves to cloud our perception of the Divine in nature, such that we accept the tangible as being no more complex than its appearance indicates. Spiritual forces and consequences are easily missed and ignored. The departure from nature, that which people call “a miracle”, is the suspension of the order of nature to allow one to comprehend G-d’s role in the world and appreciate the reality of spiritual forces at play around us. One who ponders this concept realizes that those spiritual forces of miracles are no less present even when nature proceeds as one expects. Thus, the world “nais” is used to describe the staff upon which the fiery snake was affixed.

 

G-d has His plan for Creation, and our actions do not determine the outcome of events. Indeed, our responsibility during our time in this world is not to accomplish, but to make the right decisions – G-d conscious decisions – in our effort to succeed. But that does not mean our choices are meaningless. Our decision to either foster a relationship with the Divine or allow the strength of that bond to weaken and fracture impacts the spiritual realm in concrete, but humanly indiscernible, ways. Our Jewish lives are filled with icons – a Torah scroll, tzitzis strings, a mezuzah on the doorpost – to assist us in keeping our focus, to remind us of the spiritual forces and consequences, to serve as the “nais” that refreshes our appreciation of life’s daily miracles.

 

Have a Good Shabbos!

 


Imaginary Fears

Parshas Chukas Balak

Posted on June 29, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Yaakov Menken | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

Several years ago, one of the writers for Torah.org reached out to me in a hurry. He had made a mistake and wanted to stop the distribution of the email he had just sent.

 

What was his mistake? He had identified the weekly reading as “Parshas Bila’am” — this was, of course, in a year when Balak, half of this week’s reading, was read separately, unlike this year when it is read together with the previous parsha, Chukas.

 

Misnaming this particular parsha was what we might call a “scholar’s error:” The reading is named after the Moabite King Balak, but the story centers around Bila’am, the evil prophet hired by King Balak to curse the Jews. Balak is something of a minor figure in the parsha that carries his name; it is primarily about Bila’am!

 

But, of course, without the actions of Balak, the whole story of Bila’am would not have happened.

 

I heard the following from Rabbi Meilich Biderman, a well-known inspiring speaker. He asks, did you notice that Balak is in a panic about the Jews coming from Egypt, that he is terrified of them? He says the Jews “will eat up everything around us like the ox eats up the vegetables in the field” [22:4]. He expects the Jews to come through, ruin the fields, and eat the crops. That is what caused Balak to send messengers to Bila’am to hire him to deliver curses, and the entire parsha comes as a result of this fear.

 

Balak’s fear was entirely, unquestionably, 100% baseless. Hashem had specifically told the Jews “Do not bother Moav and do not provoke war with them, for I will not give to you from their land as an inheritance…” [Deut 2:9]. So Balak was afraid for no reason. And because he acted on his irrational fears, he brought destruction upon himself and his people.

 

What do we learn from this? The Torah, Rav Biderman said, is eternal, and there’s a lesson in here for us today. I should introduce what he says by explaining that our Sages teach that everything G-d does is good, in ways we do not understand, and specifically good for us.

 

Nothing comes to a person unless G-d wants it to be so, and He only wants the best for us.

 

So, he says, we shouldn’t be living in fear! We must remember that Hashem runs the world and there’s nothing to be afraid of. Obviously, we should behave in a way that is prudent and reasonable, but not second guess ourselves, regret bad investments, or be afraid of every distant possibility. Balak’s unfounded fears led to the entire story!

 

For those interested, it’s not really possible to retract or stop a bulk email once sent. So every subscriber did receive a class entitled “Parshas Bila’am” that day. Yet the teacher had nothing to be afraid of—few noticed, and none, to my knowledge, lost any respect for him. It was, after all, a wise man’s error!

 

It is interesting that Rabbi Biderman is often described as a Mashpia, which translates as “influencer.” In today’s culture, an “influencer” is a teenager or twentysomething with many social media followers, who convinces them to buy the brands that he or she is being paid to promote. Think about the difference between one “influencer” and the other. We can all be influenced, it’s just a matter of which influencers we listen to!