Saturday, October 24, 2026

 

When History Got Personal

Parshas Lech Lecha

Posted on October 17, 2018 (5779) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

The pace of the narrative of the Torah abruptly changes with the events described in this week’s reading. Until now the Torah has dealt with large periods of time and many many generations and different numbers of human beings and nations. It concerns itself apparently with a broad overview of the origins of human civilization and of the formation of societies, tribes and nations.

 

Its narrative confirmed the idea expressed so vividly in the story of the building of the tower of Babel, that the individual human being was relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things and that individuals mattered little in the development of the course of civilization and nation building. All of this dramatically changes with the appearance of our father Abraham and our mother Sarah.

 

The Torah now dwells on details and the lives of individuals, their hopes and disappointments, their struggles and achievements. The story of the individual thus becomes the story of the world in its entirety. Judaism teaches us that the life of an individual is really to be considered the life of the world itself. We become privy to the innermost thoughts and aspirations of Abraham and Sarah. We read of their great trials and the vicissitudes they endure in following the path of goodness and holiness in a world that was corrupted by idolatry and poisoned by violence and greed.

 

The story of mankind becomes a stand-alone narrative. Even though the big picture is certainly in the background, it is the actions and beliefs of individuals that truly set the course for the further development of civilization and humankind.

 

How often do we feel insignificant and of little consequence in the overall scheme of society, government and world affairs. After all, in a world where millions of votes are required to win a major election in democratic societies or where the rule of police and government crushes individualism in totalitarian societies, of what value is there to what an individual may think or believe.

 

But all of history has shown us that it is the individual that sets the course for human civilization and that literally a handful of people are responsible for the great changes, defeats and definitive struggles that have marked human history from its onset until today. I think this is the strongest lesson of the narrative of the lives of our father and mother, Abraham and Sarah, as recorded for us in the immortal words of the Torah.

 

The prophet Isaiah will characterize our father Abraham as being an individual, one, alone and different from all others. In this way his greatness has made him the founder of the people who are smaller in number but enormous in influence and who have fueled the progress of human civilization over the many millennia.

 

The rabbis have taught us that we are to attempt to be Abraham and Sarah in each generation of human society. We are to represent what is right and moral, lasting and valuable, to be righteous individuals in a world that often loses its moral compass and godly direction.

 

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

Cloudy Vision

Parshas Lech Lecha

Posted on October 20, 2026 (5787) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

People who have experienced a miraculous rescue will usually tell you that their lives are forever changed. Mundane matters that had once loomed large and important, such as the pursuit of financial success and status, are suddenly rather inconsequential, while spiritual matters become the focal points of their lives. They begin to think about mortality and eternity, about the rewards of kindness, of tending primarily to the needs of the soul rather than the body. They live with a new perspective, a new awareness.

 

In this week’s Torah portion, however, we find the exact opposite happening. During the time of Abraham, the Babylonian Empire was the dominant force in the Middle East, and the small kingdoms of Canaan paid annual tribute to the imperial coffers, as did every other principality that didn’t want to be invaded and crushed. But the thought of paying tribute was irksome, and Sodom and four neighboring cities formed an alliance and rebelled. A few months later, the Babylonians arrived in force and easily defeated the rebels. They took Abraham’s nephew Lot hostage and carried off the bulk of the wealth of the vanquished cities.

 

When he heard the news, Abraham and his small group of followers pursued the imperial armies, miraculously routed them and freed Lot. He also recovered all the captured wealth of the defeated cities and returned it to the original owners, without taking even a shoelace for himself.

 

What an astonishing spectacle the people of Sodom witnessed! First, they saw the clear intervention of Heaven to affect Abraham’s victory over the massive imperial armies. Second, they saw the most phenomenal altruism on the part of Abraham, refusing the customary victor’s share of the spoils. The rapid recovery of their former grandeur and prosperity was undoubtedly the farthest thing from their minds, and yet, in not much longer than the blink of an eye, it happened.

 

What effect should this miraculous turn of events have had on the people of Sodom? Surely, they should have undergone a radical change of perspective, a total shift of focus. But they did not. In next week’s Torah portion, we read about the utter degeneracy of their lifestyle and its destruction by a rain of fire and brimstone. Why were they impervious to the miracles that took place in their behalf? Why did they remain as self-centered and greedy as ever?

 

The commentators explain that clear vision requires a certain detachment, an ability to step outside oneself and do some critical self-examination. Abraham, in his youth was able to step back from his aristocratic background and privileged social status and take a hard, objective look at the world around him. This ability opened his eyes and allowed him to recognize the existence of the Creator. The people of Sodom, however, had become so entangled in their physical existence that they were no longer able to view themselves with any degree of detachment. They saw everything through a sensual fog, and the most obvious miracles could no longer redirect their jaded minds.

 

A drunk was sitting at the curbside, taking huge gulps from a bottle of wine. His clothes were filthy and disheveled, and chunks of grime lodged in his hair.

 

“I don’t understand you,” a disgusted passerby berated the drunk. “You want to drown your life in a bottle? Fine. But why do you have to be such a slob? Why can’t you at least shake the grime out of your hair?”

 

“If I had the sense to shake the grime from my hair,” said the drunk with a twinkle in his eye, “I’d have the sense to go home and have a normal life.”

 

In our own lives, we often get caught up in the mad rush of daily life. We become absorbed in our businesses and professions and the myriad little tasks of maintaining a good standard of living. But we must never forget to retain a healthy measure of detachment, to keep everything in perspective, to know which things are truly essential, and which are just pleasant paraphernalia. And every once in a while, we should take the time to step back and examine our lives with as much honesty as we can muster. At the very least, it will engender in us the habit of seeking the truth, a habit that can only bring us benefit and fulfillment.

  

Saturday, October 17, 2026

 

Stop the Flow Before the Flood

Parshas Noach

Posted on October 28, 2022 (5783) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

The story of Noah and the great flood actually began at the end of last week’s Torah portion.

 

That is when G-d determined that the moral corruption of man had reached terminal levels. His decision was to erase all of mankind, indeed the whole world, and start afresh. As this week’s reading begins, He instructs the prophet Noah, the only righteous man of his generation, to begin construction of an ark that will save his family and all the various kinds of animals.

 

Noah was given 120 years to construct this life-saving boat. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 108b) explains that G-d intended a public, 120-year spectacle as Noah completed his construction project. People would inevitably ask Noah what he was doing, and this would give him the opportunity to warn them of the impending flood, and to beg them to change their ways to prevent the destruction.

 

Sadly, his warnings went unanswered. It’s perplexing: why did no one heed his message? Given Noah’s ongoing work, the skeleton of the Ark warning humanity that the evil into which they had descended was going to destroy the world, why didn’t anyone turn away from evil and corruption? Noah was known both as a righteous man and as a prophet, so his statement of G-d’s intent was undeniably accurate. Yet, over more than a century, as multiple generations of children asked their parents about the big Ark Noah was working on, and about his prophecy, no one took his message to heart. Even when the flood rains began to fall and the truth of the prophecy was coming to life, no one changed their ways.

 

The people didn’t change, because they were not able to change. Their 120 years of stubborn refusal to budge proved that their evil was beyond repair. As the Talmud says (Eruvin 19), “The wicked, even at the gates of purgatory do not repent.” Habits have the potential to reach such a state that even if you know that your behavior is wrong, and you say you want to change, you tragically lack the ability to change.

 

Habits, and even addiction, do not usually reach the intensity of Noah’s generation. Most often, they can be changed — but its not easy. The recalcitrance of that generation is a lesson for all of us to be vigilant in our behavior and avoid forming destructive habits. The more habitual an activity is, the more difficult it becomes to break the pattern.

 

The challenge we have is that although we are wise enough to know that our behavior is wrong, our actions do not necessarily follow. The sages of the Mishna (Avos 3:22) say, “All whose deeds are more than their wisdom, their wisdom will endure.” The secret to practicing what you preach is to practice! And practice, and practice some more. When you learn a piece of wisdom, find a way to put it into practice. Commit to some small improvement, something easy, and keep to it. If your good deeds, those tiny changes, accumulate, they too will become habits, and the great wisdom you’ve learned of how to live a more meaningful, joyful, spiritual life will endure and stay with you for a lifetime. 

 

(Based on Lev Shalom, Rabbi Sholom Shvadron ztl).

 

 

Saturday, October 10, 2026

 

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

 

Saturday, October 3, 2026

 


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