Make a “See” Change

Parshas Shlach

Posted on June 24, 2022 (5782) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

Before entering the land of Israel, the Jewish people asked to send in spies to understand the challenges they would face as they conquer the promised land. Moses sent twelve spies, all respected representatives of each of the twelve tribes. Among them were the saintly Joshua and Caleb. Upon their return all but Joshua and Caleb reported on the titanic inhabitants and enormous fruits they found. They claimed the conquest appeared impossible. Caleb protested their assessment, but they insisted it is a land “that consumes its inhabitants; and all the people we saw in it, are men of great stature.”

 

The Talmud (Sota 35) explains that they noticed there were funeral processions everywhere they went. People seemed to be dying all around them, and they therefore concluded it was “a land that consumes its inhabitants.” The Talmud teaches that G-d lamented their poor judgement, saying, “My intention was positive, and their thoughts were negative.” In reality, G-d purposely orchestrated these funerals so the natives would be involved with the processions and burials, and would not pay attention to or question the foreign spies surveying the land.

 

As we learned last week, two can observe the same scene, experience the same set of circumstances, yet interpret it in completely different ways.

 

The story is told of a visitor to an art museum who commented to the gallery curator on his way out that he was disappointed to see that all the paintings and sculptures lacked detail and the colors were dull and uninteresting.

 

The curator then handed the man a cloth and a bottle of glass cleaner and said, “Of course, sir.

 

Your glasses are all smudged. I can barely see your eyes. It’s no wonder everything appears blurry and dull!”

 

Through “rosy glasses” the land would have appeared healthy and vibrant. The large fruits, and powerful citizenry only testified to the robust resources and environment of the new land. With a brighter attitude and outlook they would have understood that if people were dying within such bounty, an unnatural phenomenon, it must have been orchestrated by G-d to help their mission. This should have served as encouragement, a sign that G-d would not abandon them when they enter the land. He was making His presence and assistance obvious, but their vision was obstructed by their corrupted perspective.

 

A negative attitude can cloud our vision and prevent us from seeing G-d’s presence, and the blessings in our lives. When faced with darkness try thinking, “How would this appear if I was in a better mood? Is this really so terrible, or is it just my blurry glasses?” His intention is for our ultimate good. Sometimes it just takes a cloth and a bottle of glass cleaner to see it. 

 

(Based on Birkas Peretz, Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky zt”l)

Gentle Reminders

 

Parshas Shlach

Posted on June 25, 2024 (5784) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

The universal image of the devout Jew is a praying figure wrapped in a tallis, but it is not the tallis that is significant. Rather, it is the long fringes on each of its four corners. At the conclusion of this week’s Torah portion, we read that these fringes were to be dyed a particular shade of blue called techeiles. What was the significance of this particular shade of blue?

 

The Talmud explains: “Because techeiles is reminiscent of the sea, and the sea is reminiscent of the sky, and the sky is reminiscent of the Kiseh Hakavod, Hashem’s celestial throne.” Wearing techeileth, therefore, draws the mind to thoughts of Hashem and is a source of constant inspiration.

 

The questions immediately arise: Why do we need any memory devices at all to remind us of Hashem? Why doesn’t the Torah simply command us to think of Hashem continuously?

 

Furthermore, why does the Torah choose techeiles which reminds us of Hashem in such a roundabout way? Why doesn’t the Torah simply choose a color directly associated with Him?

 

The commentators point out that our natural tendency of people is to connect what we see with whatever is dear to our hearts. Thus, a businessman spotting a piece of paper on the ground will think of the problems of waste disposal, the new technologies, the investment opportunities in companies active in this field. A policeman spotting the same piece of paper will think of the littering laws, zero tolerance policies, litterbug fines. An environmentalist will think of the tree that was cut down to produce this piece of paper which was so casually discarded. The businessman, the policeman, the environmentalist may all have been walking along absorbed in totally unrelated thoughts. But that little deviation from the ordinary, the simple piece of paper lying on the ground, pulls each one out of his reverie and sets him off in his own individual direction along the route that is dear to his heart.

 

In this light, the commentators explain the rationale behind techeiles. The Torah does not make unrealistic demands of us. The Torah realizes full well that no matter how spiritual we want to be, no matter how much we would like think of Hashem, we still live in the mundane world. We have to earn a living and pay the mortgage and take care of the children, and we cannot realistically expect to keep our minds focused on Hashem at all times.

 

If, however, we truly yearn to be connected with Him, if we harbor a strong love for Him deep in our hearts, then a few gentle reminders here and there will bring Him squarely back into our thoughts. Therefore, the Torah does not simply command us to think of Hashem at all times. It is too much to expect of us amid the sea of distractions in which we live. Instead, the Torah tells us to keep a symbol with us at all times, a symbol which will remind us of Hashem with just a brief glance.

 

To accomplish this purpose most effectively, the Torah does not choose a symbol directly associated with Hashem. Rather, the Torah chooses a fairly simple symbol which can insinuate itself easily into the mad rush of daily life, a shade of blue that reminds us of the sea. But once the chain of thought is set in motion, our natural tendencies take over. That flash of blue sets us to thinking, and if there is a true love for Hashem deep in our hearts, our thoughts will naturally turn to Him. If the heart is set in a good direction, the mind is sure to follow. But the converse is also true.

 

A great sage was visiting an art gallery, and he saw a large redfaced man protesting vigorously in front of a colorful abstract painting.

 

“How can you display such lewd art?” the angry man yelled.

 

Intrigued, the sage drew closer and looked at the painting.

 

“My good fellow,” he said. “This is a wonderful painting. It is a warm representation of a mother soothing a distraught child. The lewd images you see on the canvas are a reflection of the lewd images that occupy your own mind.”

 

In our own lives, we are all caught up in the dynamics of our daily existence, continuously distracted by financial, familial, social, emotional and all sorts of other concerns that make up the fabric of our lives. Under these circumstances, it is very easy to forget about Hashem. But if He has a permanent place in our hearts, if deep down we recognize and acknowledge that life has no meaning without a strong relationship with Him, then we will inevitably find myriad symbols everywhere that will nudge us gently back on track and bring Him back into our thoughts.

 

Text Copyright © 2010 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Rabbi Reich is on the faculty of the Ohr Somayach Tanenbaum Education Center.

 

 

Fear of the Unknown

Parshas Behaaloscha

Posted on May 30, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

Human beings are by their very nature creatures who are eternally dissatisfied and fearful. It is a rare person that, even at a joyous family occasion, can grasp the moment and fully enjoy it.

 

Even as the bridal couple stands under their marriage canopy, observers and the families of those concerned are already fretting about what the future will hold for the young couple.

 

Rarely can a person truly live and enjoy the present.

 

In the Torah reading of this week the generation that left Egypt, received the Torah on Sinai and witnessed all of G-d’s miracles on a first-hand basis, nevertheless they begin to fray and fall apart. Their main concern, the doubt that hovers in their minds throughout the 40 years of existence in the Sinai desert, is how they will fare when they finally do reach and settle the promised land of Israel.

 

This task appears to be so daunting that it frightens them. The reassurance given them by Moshe, that G-d will continue to perform miracles on their behalf does not resonate with them. Their frustration will eventually burst forth in the Torah reading of next week with the story of the spies and their evil report regarding the land of Israel. The father-in-law of Moshe himself leaves them and no arguments or persuasions can change his mind. In its way, this was a crushing blow to the morale of the Jewish people and only confirmed their doubts as to whether they have a future in the land of Israel.

 

In effect, the mindset of the people was that today’s miracles do not guarantee the presence of miracles tomorrow and that the land of Israel is too risky an adventure to entertain.

 

The fear and disaffection for the land of Israel lies at the root of all the upheavals and rebellions that we will read about this Shabbat and in the coming Torah readings as well. They may complain about food, their leaders and all sorts of other gnawing issues that trouble them but that is only a cover for their fear of the future and for the unknown that the land of Israel represents to them.

 

This is a situation that exists even today in the Jewish world. It is a lack of self-confidence that we paper over with bravado. Deep down we are aware of the precarious nature of our situation and of the hostility of the world towards our state and us. To a great extent we whistle when passing the graveyard because of our lack of faith in ourselves, our future and even in the G-d of Israel.

 

We cannot be satisfied with the moment because of our concerns, no matter how unwarranted they may be regarding the future. Naturally, we are somewhat traumatized by our past and it is not a simple matter to simply ignore the problems and enemies that loom over us.

 

Nevertheless, we are bound to rely upon our faith that all will yet turn well for the Jewish people and the state of Israel and we attempt to live our lives and order our priorities accordingly.

 

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

The Menorah – A Lesson in Parenting

Parshas Behaaloscha

Posted on June 12, 2008 (5768) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

Lighting the menorah – the great candelabra – in the Temple seems to be a very straight forward, cut and dried matter. One needs little skill or training apparently to light a candelabra.

 

Yet the Torah’s emphasis in this week’s parsha insures that a deeper meaning is also present to this seemingly mundane and simple act.

 

Rashi already indicates the presence of this deeper idea by his comment that the obligation of the kohein was to keep his fire at the candelabra’s wick, “until they caught and burned brightly on their own.” This is a rule not only in lighting a menorah but also in life generally – in raising and educating children and students, in inspiring others with ideals, skills and knowledge.

 

It is a rule in the home, the classroom, the workplace and anywhere else in human life where people intersect and influence one another. It applies in those areas of life that are also subject to this challenge – that the wick has to catch fire and rise on its own.

 

The ability to let the “wick” catch fire and flame eventually on its own is a necessary trait in successful parenting and teaching. It is always difficult to let go of a child and a student. One becomes so emotionally involved that letting go becomes increasingly impossible. But the truth is that only by letting go and allowing the “wick” – child, student, etc. – to flame on its own is one’s parental and educational responsibility fulfilled. We cannot live another person’s life for that person. We can only attempt to provide that other person with the wherewithal to succeed and accomplish.

 

The other side of the coin in this matter is equally valid and important. The kohein may not remove the flame from the wick prematurely. He must make certain that the flame of the wick will not sputter out when he removes his flame from the wick.

 

The responsibility of parents and teachers remains as long as the child or student is still unable to flame on its own. Many times in life it is difficult to light the flame in others. It always seems never to catch and flame on its own efforts and abilities. The tendency therefore is for the flame giver to despair and eventually give up on the effort.

 

Students are expelled from schools and parents and children remain distant. No two instances in life are alike and there are therefore no real general rules that can be imposed in such situations. Yet it must be obvious to all that infinite patience and untiring efforts must first be expended before reaching a point of impasse and no return.

 

Some people are late bloomers and thus the flame has to be kept to their wick longer than usual. These are all naturally individual judgments and uncertain decisions. Perhaps that is why the Torah emphasizes this seemingly ordinary act of lighting the menorah in the Temple because it represents the ambiguities that lie at the heart of many basic issues in life, family and community affairs.

 

Shabat shalom.

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

 

Small Talk

Parshas Naso

Posted on May 31, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

 

This week’s parsha contains a number of exciting episodes. It details the sordid tale of the adulterous women, her fate and that of her illicit adulterer. It illustrates the rules and regulations of the nazir, one who has abstained from worldly pleasures by eschewing wine in addition to leaving his hair unshorn.

 

However, tucked away in the midst of the controversial episodes are the priestly blessings — five verses that shine an encouraging light in the midst of a difficult portion. Those verses contain the priestly blessings that are well known to many of us. “May Hashem bless you and keep you. May Hashem shine his countenance on you and be gracious to you. May Hashem lift his countenance upon you and establish you in peace. (Numbers 6:24-26)”

 

Less celebrated, however, are the verses that appear immediately before and after the actual blessings. “Thus, shall you bless the children of Israel, speak to them.” What is the importance – even the meaning — of the extra words, “speak to them”? After Hashem charges the priests with the actual verses of blessing, He ends with an additional command. “Place My name upon the children of Israel and I shall bless them.” Again, the verse leaves us wondering – of course, it is Hashem that will bless them but what does His name have to do with it? Didn’t He just prescribe the formula? Why aren’t the three verses enough to spur G-d’s blessings?

 

A few months after moving to Woodmere, a lovely young Israeli couple with two young children moved next door to us. After conversing with them, my wife and I realized that in Israel they had not been the least bit observant of Jewish tradition. They had not even observed Yom Kippur, let alone kept Shabbat or kosher. It seemed that the reason they moved to America because Israel was becoming too Jewish for them. My wife and I felt a responsibility to bring these fine people closer to the Torah, yet we also did not feel comfortable telling them about laws that they must have known about but chose not to observe.

 

Fortunately, in our neighborhood lived the great Rosh Yeshiva who brought thousands of people close to Torah, Rabbi Shlomo Freifeld, of blessed memory. I explained our situation to him and basically asked him, “Rebbe, what do you in order to make someone frum (religious)?”

 

He smiled and put his large hand on my shoulder. “Do absolutely nothing!” I stood shocked and confused as he continued. “Be a mensch: Never miss a ‘good morning’ or a ‘good afternoon’.

 

Make sure your lawn is neat and your children are well behaved. And just be friendly.” Then he quoted the words of our sages, ‘make sure that the name of Hashem is cherished through you.’

 

He paused, looked me in the eye, and proclaimed confidently, “follow that advice and you will not have to do a thing. They will get closer to the Torah.”

 

We followed his advice. We invited them for meals, and our children played together. I talked politics with him while my wife discussed gardening with her. We spoke about everything — except religion. I was therefore shocked, when, in October, our neighbors asked us where the closest synagogue was.

 

They decided to go to shul for Yom Kippur. I was even more surprised when days later they asked for my help in building a Sukkah. I am sad to relate that recently we lost some very good neighbors. After 5 years of living in the US, they decided to move back to Israel. America was becoming too goyish (gentile) for them.

 

Before it enumerates the actual blessings, the Torah teaches us the true way to bless Jews – speak to them. The words, “speak to them” may be more important than the actual blessing.

 

The saintly Chofetz Chaim charged my wife’s grandfather Rabbi Laizer Levin, who was Rabbi of Detroit for 50 years, with a simple message. “Laizer, gei rehd tzoo Yidden.” (Reb Laizer go and speak to Jews.) And the actual priestly blessings do not end much differently. “Place My name upon the children of Israel and I shall bless them.” (Numbers 6:27). When Hashem’s name is placed upon His nation, then blessing is sure to follow.

 

A smile, a hello, a Good Shabbos, or Shabbat Shalom may be the key to forging a different attitude to an otherwise skeptical Jew. To paraphrase a man who reached great heights, “One small word to man can produce giants for mankind.” The true blessing does not come from theological incantations; it comes from the simple smiles of the heart.

 

A Powerful Lesson in True Humilty

Parshas Naso

Posted on June 13, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

The Kohen shall bring her near and have her stand before HASHEM. The Kohen shall take sacred water in an earthenware vessel, and the Kohen shall take from the (APHAR) dust that is on the floor of the Tabernacle and put it in the water… (Bamidbar 5:16-17)

 

The Midrash is puzzled why APHAR- dust is invited as part of the Sotah solution. The answer that is given is that in the merit of Avraham Avinu when he was praying on behalf of Sodom he referred to himself as “APHAR v AIFER – DUST and ASHES”!

 

OK but how is that an answer? What’s the connection between his declaration and the requirement of this unfaithful woman to be offered to drink water with dust from the floor of the Temple?

 

Obviously Avraham Avinu was adopting a posture of extreme humility when praying to HASHEM and interceding on behalf of Sodom. How else can one approach The Creator of the Universe?! It’s an exercise in ultimate humility, a finite creature standing before an Infinite Being! This portrait of Avraham’s self-effacement and absolute nullification remains etched for all time as the definitive portrait of humility.

 

I am afraid though that we may have a wrong impression of what true humility is if we view this scene too quickly and superficially. I saw a phrase that might illuminate the topic, “Humility is not thinking less of your-self. It’s thinking less about your-self.” Is that not the exact description of what Avraham Avinu was doing here?

 

This aligns with the famous statement from the Kotzker Rebbe. A person should have two pieces of paper. One is each of two pockets. On one piece of paper the words from the Mishne in Sanheidrin should be inscribed, “A person has an obligation to say, ‘The whole world was created for me!’”

 

On the other piece of paper the words of Avraham Avinu should be written, “I am dust and ashes!” The trick is to know when to take out which piece of paper!

 

Avraham Avinu was hoping to change the mind of The Almighty! He did not consider him-self completely unworthy. How else can one have the nerve to countermand G-d!? It seems he understood very well the import of his position in the world. Obviously Avraham, in all his humility, was not thinking too little about him-self!

 

It’s very clear that Avraham was not thinking about him-self. Just the opposite! All that he is depicted doing is for the sake of the people of Sodom. He was not asking for anything for him-self.

 

When he was called upon to deliver his beloved son Yitzchok as a Korbon he did not whisper a word of protest. For the people of Sodom, Avraham Avinu carried on as a defense attorney before a strict judge to protect a community he knew was guilty of many crimes. Avraham thought enough of him-self, to have the courage to face off with HASHEM, and at the same time he though not about him-self at all, but only about the welfare of others.

 

That’s the real portrait of humility.

 

Now let us apply this same standard to the other side of the equation, the Sotah. The woman who allowed her-self to be lured by the seductive sirens of temptation and indulgence was either not considering or was underestimating the import and impact of her actions, which are serious and severe. She obviously thought too little of herself.

 

At the same time she was thinking only about herself! She engaged in an act of ultimate selfishness! Rather her behavior betrays qualities that demonstrate just the opposite of true humility. Perhaps that’s why, now she is forced to digest APHAR- dust, as a strong reminder of and a powerful lesson in true humility.

 

The Flavor That’s Forever

Parshas Naso

Posted on June 14, 2019 (5782) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

Mayer Amschel Rothschild of Frankfurt, Germany was the Eighteenth Century founder of the famed Rothschild dynasty. A guest in his home once inquired, with much chutzpah, “How much are you worth?” In reply, Rothschild took out a ledger with the word ‘Charity’ on it and started to sum up the figures. The surprised visitor exclaimed, “Perhaps you didn’t understand my question. I asked you what you have, not what you have given away.”

 

Rothschild smiled and replied, “I understood you perfectly well. When I die, I will leave all my material wealth behind. The only thing that I will be able to take with me is the merit of that which I have given away. Consequently, all that I really possess is that which I give.” (Quoted from Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis, Chief Rabbi of the UK)

 

Each individual was obligated by the Torah to give tithes from his crop to the Kohanim, the priests, and the Levites. The Torah says, “each man, his holy things shall be his” [Num. 5:10].

 

This verse refers the giver’s right to choose which individuals will receive his gifts. But these same words, says Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan zt”l (the Chofetz Chaim), can be understood to say that the only things we truly own are our holy deeds. No business investments have a guaranteed profit, and certainly not an eternal profit. Profits from spiritual investments, however, are both guaranteed and eternal.

 

A group of teenage boys were visiting Rabbi Avraham Schorr of Flatbush, a renowned lecturer and teacher. Rabbi Schorr wanted to give them a sense of the eternal value of a Mitzvah, one of G-d’s commandments. So, he asked them: “Think about the pleasure, the sense of satisfaction, you had a year ago from eating a juicy piece of steak, or any other delicious meal. Now think about the pleasure and satisfaction you had a year ago after helping an old person cross the street. Which pleasure do you still feel today?”

 

Thus, even in this world, our own experience in holy endeavors testifies to this truth: it is spiritual investments that have the most lasting gains.

 

Let us prioritize our spiritual pursuits in both Mitzvah observance and Torah study, so that we may then look forward to enjoying their everlasting benefits.

 

Growth Period

Parshas Emor

The Omer

Posted on June 7, 2002 (5755) By Rabbi Yaakov Menken | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

“And you shall count for yourselves from the day after the Sabbath, from the day when the Omer was brought, seven complete weeks will they be.” [23:15]

 

Our Sages tell us that the period of counting between Pesach and Shavuous came to separate the Exodus from Egypt and acceptance of the Torah on Mt. Sinai. The Jews in Egypt were stuck at a very base, non-spiritual level, and they needed this time period in order to grow and develop spiritually in order to be prepared for the reception of the ultimate spirituality, G-d’s blueprint for Creation, the Torah. Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, author of Oznaim L’Torah, writes that the Omer remains relevant every year. We say this about all holidays – that in Judaism they are not merely commemorations, but an opportunity to relive the events. As the Haggadah says, “in every generation a person is obligated to regard himself as if he left Egypt.”

 

Regarding the Omer, Rabbi Sorotzkin tells us that it has always been known to G-d that Israel – as a nation and as individuals – will fall from their spiritual heights. Therefore, he says, G-d set aside this time for us to work on spiritual growth each and every year. This period was sanctified for all time as conducive to self-purification and development.

 

There are several such time periods during the year, times when we can grow and accomplish more and more. The holidays form a natural spiral, leading us ever upwards in a lifetime of spiritual growth. Just… take advantage of it!