Saturday, July 28, 2018


Moshe’s Lesson of Acceptance

Parshas Vaeschanan

Posted on July 19, 2010 (5770) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

We all believe in the power of prayer. There have been controversial but yet seemingly proven studies that have shown that somehow prayer and being prayed for are of definite physical help to the sick, the bereaved and the troubled. Yet prayer oftentimes leaves us unfulfilled and unanswered. Prayer does not seemingly avert disasters, sadness and even tragedies.

All of us face the challenge of unanswered prayer, when our hopes and requests are apparently ignored and refused by Heaven. Many times this fact of life causes a crisis of faith and belief within a person. King David in his Psalms reflects on this issue many times. The book of Iyov deals with it as well. And to a certain extent it is the main issue raised in this week’s parsha.

Moshe’s prayers are not answered. In fact the Lord instructs him to stop raising the issue of his entry into the Land of Israel with Heaven. There is a finality to Heaven’s refusal to answer or even deal with Moshe’s prayers any longer. Moshe’s prayers, which have saved his people, his brother and sister and others from Heavenly wrath, are now of no effect regarding his own personal request.

The rabbis of the Talmud phrased it succinctly: “The prisoner himself cannot free himself, by himself, from his own confinement.” Moshe will not lead his beloved people into the promised Land of Israel. His time has ended and his prayer will forever remain unanswered. There is therefore a note of inevitable sadness that hovers over this parsha.

Over the millennia of Jewish commentary and exposition of the Torah many reasons have been advanced as to why Moshe’s prayer was so finally and flatly rebuffed. Among the ideas advanced is that the time for Yehoshua’s leadership had arrived and that “the dominion of one ruler cannot overlap the dominion of his successor even by a hair’s breadth.”

Another thought advanced is that Moshe’s generation would not enter the Land of Israel so it would be an apparent unseemly favoritism for Moshe alone to be able to do so. A third idea is that Moshe would appear to the new generation entering the Land of Israel as a supernatural figure, a type of god in a world of pagan belief that regularly deified humans, especially national leaders. Therefore, for the sake of Israel itself, he could not be allowed to lead them into the Land of Israel.

As valid as all of these ideas are, the blunt truth is that we cannot read G-d’s mind, so to speak. Living human beings, the finite, can never grasp the Infinite One. So we must be satisfied to remain unsatisfied in our search for the reasons for unanswered prayers.

Our true refuge lies in faith and acceptance of the unknowable. This in no way weakens the resolve and necessity to continue praying. It merely lowers our levels of expectation and tempers our hubris that somehow Heaven must follow our wishes and dictates. Moshe accepts the fact that his prayers will now go unanswered. His example serves as a lesson for all of us.

Shabat shalom.
Rabbi Berel Wein



 
Our Family Business
Parshas Vaeschanan
Posted on July 26, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner
 
And you shall teach them (V’shinatam) to your sons and speak of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk on the way, and when you lie down and when you rise up. (Devarim 6:7)
And you shall teach them (V’shinatam): In Hebrew Chidud is an expression of sharpness…They should be sharp in your mouth…That is when somebody asks, you should not hesitate and stammer but rather you should be able to answer immediately. (Rashi)
It seems everyone is expected to be an expert and acquire great proficiency in learning Torah. It may already be obvious but what is the purpose of this requirement? Is it to raise the level of scholarship?! How is everyone able to fulfill this standard if people have different learning styles and varying intellectual capacities?
The Maharal says that the reason for this Mitzvah is that the Torah should become “his”. The student should make the Torah his very-own. He learns this from the very first chapter of Tehillim. It says, “If the Torah of HASHEM is his desire and in his Torah he meditates day and night, he will be like a tree planted by streams of water which yields fruit in its season and whose leaf does not wither… (Tehillim 1:2-3)
Our sages saw a shift in ownership from the first part of the verse to the second. At first it was the Torah of HASHEM that was his desire. Later it is his, the student’s Torah that he meditates in day and night. It became his possession.
How is this done? For sure it takes a great deal of work! There are no short cuts, but perhaps we can find here a hint at a motivation that might make this achievement more possible.
How many times does it happen to each and every one of us? We have all experienced it! Sometimes, many times in the same week this wondrous phenomenon will be displayed before our eyes and go unnoticed. Now we can begin to recognize what it means.
I was in a grocery store this past week. Like a dutiful husband, and like all the other fellows walking around with shopping carts and a handwritten list of specific items that we must come home with or else, there are always those few items that seem impossible to find. They don’t fit neatly into an aisle category like dairy or beverage, or they are just exotic. So we all pass each other wondering aimlessly and calling home multiple times in search of that clue about how it might look or what category it might fit into. Only after the pressure is built up and his patience for this process is diminished will a man park his ego and ask for help. Who do you ask for help in a large grocery store?
There, sitting on a milk crate, busily organizing cans on a shelf is a fellow you may not stop to have a casual conversation with in the street, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So you stand near him and clear your throat attempting politely to get his attention, “Excuse me, but where can I find salmon flavored toothpicks?” He looks up in your general direction pausing for a split second.
At first you wonder if he understood your question or if he speaks your language but within that nanosecond he scans the store in his mind and miracle of miracles, he says in a broken English, “Aisle 6 on the left side, 2nd shelf, half-way down.” Then he goes back to putting cans on the shelf oblivious to and unimpressed with his own intellectual feat.
I always marvel. How did he do that? He must be a genius! Perhaps he stays up all night studying detailed pictures of the organization of shelves in the grocery store. Perhaps he is going to school at night in pursuit of a doctorate, a PHD in grocery shelf stocking.
None of this is true obviously but the question remains. How does he know where everything in the store is without having to study and memorize notes? The answer is, “It’s his job!” We can learn from here that anybody can learn anything when they make it their business and learning Torah is our family business!
The Wiser We Will Be
Parshas Vaeschanan
Posted on August 2, 2012 (5772) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner
 
See, I have taught you statutes and ordinances, as HASHEM, my G-d, commanded me, to do in the midst of the land to which you are coming to possess. And you shall keep them and do them, for that is your wisdom and your understanding in the eyes of the nations, who will hear all these statutes and say, “Only this great nation is a wise and understanding people.” For what great nation is there that has G-d so near to it, as HASHEM our G-d is at all times that we call upon Him? And which great nation is it that has just statutes and ordinances, as this entire Torah, which I set before you this day? (Devarim 4:5-8)
I’m still basking in the afterglow of the Daf HaYomi Siyum at (Giant) Gedolim Stadium and trying to hold on to the memory of being there and Davening with 100,000 brethren. It was awesome! I am haunted by the challenge of the verse in this week’s portion, “Beware and watch yourself very well, lest you forget the things that your eyes saw, and lest these things depart from your heart, all the days of your life…” (Devarim 4:9) I could not help but notice, part jokingly and very seriously too that one of the emphatic themes of the evening was most lit up for all to see in the largest type there at “MET LIFE Stadium”. “MET” is death in Hebrew and “LIFE” is life in English! As if to say, “I place before you today- life and death… and then HASHEM implores, “Choose LIFE!” A celebration of a grueling and complex 7 and ½ year learning cycle by working people with financial burdens and extra-large families is a great testimony of a desire for life. In a world where instant pleasures dominate and the size of the sound bites match the attention span of a fly, and still so many were able to endure, staying focused on a bigger and deeper daily purpose. What an accomplishment!
Rashi says on the verse: “For that is your wisdom and your understanding in the eyes of the nations”- “with this you will be considered wise and understanding to the eyes of the nations.” This is in reference to the Torah and the study of Torah! That is truest indicator of our national IQ.
Rabbi Nota Schiller, the Dean of Ohr Somayach Jerusalem told about an episode when he was yet a Yeshiva student at Ner Yisrael in Baltimore. He had been attending night classes at John Hopkins University in pursuit of a degree. It was the first day of the semester and the professor was taking attendance, methodically reciting names and matching them with faces. Nearing the end of the alphabet, he called out, “Schiller!” Young Rabbi Schiller raised his hand declaring himself present. Noticing a Yarmulka planted firmly atop his head, the professor asked, “Are you a student of the Talmud?” To which Rabbi Schiller proudly acknowledged, “Yes!” The professor then asked rhetorically, “What are you doing here!?”
Rabbi Schiller admitted that he was more than a little taken aback. He had had his share of debates and disagreements with other professors and they had come to some philosophical loggerheads but this was the first day. He was just taking attendance and he did not even have an opportunity to challenge him on any point. He wondered why he was being singled out and picked on! Is this not a case of blatant anti-Semitism?! Without being prompted the professor explained himself as follows: “You realize of course this is a class on sociology and the Rabbis of the Talmud were the greatest sociologists. If they can hold a people together for thousands of years, in disparate lands, under the most difficult of circumstances, and without a central authority, and they should remain one people- one nation, then they must be the greatest sociologists of all time. Since you are a student of the Talmud, I am afraid I have nothing to teach you!” Rabbi Schiller reports breathing a sigh of relief and announcing, “Professor Waterman, I want to put your mind at ease. I had no intentions of learning anything. I only came here for the easy A.”
The Talmud is the original blog. It has a selection of posts from the greatest and most reliable minds over many generations. The closer we can be in spiritual proximity to the notions of those noble minds then the wiser we will be!
DvarTorah, Copyright © 2007 by Rabbi Label Lam and Torah.org.
 

Saturday, July 21, 2018


Watch Your Step

Parshas Matos Masei

Posted on July 12, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

In a certain sense we may view this week’s Torah reading as being the concluding chapters of the written Torah of Moshe itself. Even though the fifth book of the written Torah, the book of Dvarim, is also to be treated with the holiness and eternal awe, regarding the four preceding books, there are opinions in the Talmud that they are to be assigned to a different category as far as rabbinic exegesis is concerned.

There is no question that there is a definite tone of finality in the concluding chapter of this week’s Torah reading. The story of the formation of the Jewish people into a nation through its exodus from Egyptian slavery and its forty-year sojourn in the desert of Sinai is now complete. A new generation of Jews, no longer constrained and embittered by slavery in Egypt, now stands at the threshold of entering the promised land. The great leaders of Israel who have guided them to this point in their national existence have all passed on. And, in the case of Moshe, he is about to leave them for his eternal reward.

It is interesting to note that as this story of nation building concludes, the Torah chooses to record for us a review of the encampments of the Jewish people in the desert of Sinai. The Torah does not intend this to be a travelogue. Rather, it is meant to create that necessary ingredient of national memory that alone can preserve the Jewish people throughout its long history and many challenges. For without that national memory, Jews generally and individually are lost in the swirl of current events and changing fortunes.

As Rashi points out, each of the way stations and encampments listed in this week’s Torah reading represents an event in the history of the Jewish people. It is not merely a list of places and oases that exist in the Sinai desert but rather it is meant to focus the memory of the people on the events, triumphs and mishaps that were experienced in the development of the Jewish nation.

The Torah could well have omitted mentioning these places and just given us a general overview of the fact that we were freed from Egyptian bondage, witnessed the Divine revelation at Mount Sinai and wandered in that desert for 40 years before finally arriving at the borders of the land of Israel. But the Torah wishes to emphasize that every step in that long journey was meaningful and taught us lessons of faith and hope and charted a course for us as to how the Jewish national entity was to be created and strengthened.

For that to happen, we have to be able to recall our errors and mishaps so that we somehow learn not to repeat them. We also have to remember our great moments of glory and of accomplishment so that these may be preserved in our memory and repeated throughout the existence of our national life. Past events, no matter how seemingly minor they may appear to be at the moment, are the stuff of nation building and accomplishment. That is why all the facets of memory are so much a part of Jewish life and observance.

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

The Next Giant Step

Parshas Matos Masei

Posted on August 5, 2016 (5776) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

These are the journeys of the Children of Israel who left the land of Egypt in their legions, under the charge of Moshe and Aaron. (Bamidbar 33:1)

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

They journeyed from the mountains of Abarim and camped in the plains of Moab by the Jordan at Jericho. (Bamidbar 33:48)

Forty-two journeys are spelled out -starting from the Exodus from Egypt until the final encampment in the plains of Moab looking into the “Promised Land.” This long list, the winding review, Rashi tells us is in order to inform us of the kindliness of HASHEM. If the Torah is investing so much “ink” it must give us pause to think, how weighty and truly beneficial this exercise is.

At the time of the exodus the verse tells us, “So G-d led the people around [by] way of the desert [to] the Red Sea, and the children of Israel were armed when they went up out of Egypt. (Shemos 13:18) The word for “armed” – “chamushim” is an unusual term. There is a hint here! Rashi explains that according to the most modest estimate, “chamushim” mean one fifth- 1/5.

Only one fifth of the Jewish People merited the leaving Egypt while 4/5th died secretly in the 9th plague, the plague of darkness. This is shocking news. The celebrated exodus was actually accompanied by a most catastrophic loss.

The Jewish Nation consisted of 600,000 adults-males between the age of 20 and 60 as recorded explicitly in the Torah. Counting females, people above 60, and below 20 years, we can guestimate that perhaps there were 3 million people who actually left Egypt.

If that’s so, then 12 million perished and were disappeared during the plague of darkness. What a heartrending misfortune numerically and individually! To have travelled so far in an exile only to be eliminated in the final moments before the redemption reeks of human tragedy.

Now, even after all that, here comes the tough news. Rabbi Aigdor Miller ztl. said that not only at that time but in every generation, 80% are lost to the particular “plague of darkness” of that generation. That is really scary. I appreciate that statistics don’t proscribe behavior in advance but only describe behavior ex post facto. Even still, this is a frightening historical trend. How do we make sure that we and our children are not a statistic, going by default, the way of the 80%?

It dawned on me this year at the Pesach Seder an insight about this chilling information. I had to share it then and now. This awareness may just be the beginning of the cure we seek. I came to realize that we are the 20% of the 20% of the survivors of the survivors, surviving selection after brutal selection for 3700 years. It is worthwhile meditating deeply on and sincerely about the price tag of the seat we occupy.

This is not a guilt trip! It’s a reality check. We are on “the one yard line” of history after having endured so long and hard a fight to get here. That path to here is paved with supreme idealism, rivers of blood, and yes, Heavenly help. To walk off the field at this point because someone in the stands winked in our general direction is a failure in understanding the value of our current position.

No different than the Children of Israel poised to enter the “Promised Land” after a circuitous journey in the desert, we at the edge of a bitter exile, desperately need to review how we got here to take the next giant step.



 
Golden Opportunities
Parshas Devarim
Posted on July 23, 2012 (5772) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner
In this week’s Torah portion of Devarim, Moshe begins the book of Deuteronomy with a detailed recounting of the nation’s long and painful journey through the wilderness. Rather than spell out all the unflattering incidents where the Jewish people stumbled spiritually, Moshe refers to names of places in which these episodes transpired.
He delivers his message in veiled but pointed language. As an example, when referring to the incident of the aigel, the golden calf, Moshe omits the official location, calling the place of sin, ‘Vedi Zahav,’ the “place of excess gold.”
Instead of issuing a stern rebuke to the Jewish people for abandoning the Torah they had just been given and dancing around the golden calf, Moshe seems almost to be offering an alibi for their shameful behavior. He mentions the excessive gold with which they were laden as if to imply that they erred only by dedicating their newfound wealth to idolatry.
That prompts another question: why then Moshe change his tune and use harsher language when it came to actually detailing the sin of the golden calf later in the Torah?
The commentaries explain that Moshe’s veiled reprimand about “the place of excessive gold” was probably the sharpest rebuke of all. They note that when G-d showed Moshe the first Jewish currency, the shekel, it was enveloped in fire. That symbolized that just as fire is marked by dual properties in the sense that it can destroy but also provides warmth and nurture-so too, money can be potently dangerous or immensely beneficial.
Moshe was alluding to this challenging dualism in his reference to “Vedi Zahav”-the place of excessive gold,” reminding the people of how they had been ensnared.
As we prepare for Tisha B’Av, it is worthwhile for us to reflect on the role money and materialism play in our life. After all, on Tisha B’Av we express our yearning for a messianic era, a time of spiritual bliss and delight when swords will be crushed into plowshares and the lion will walk docilely next to the lamb.
It all sounds very picturesque and idyllic but I’m not ready just yet to give up my brand new Bose speaker system or my luxury car. How will Moshiach affect my desire to live the American dream and how will he affect my retirement portfolio?
All of these questions and similar ones naturally lurk in our subconscious mind. Although we give voice to our yearning for the geulah, how much do we really need it and how much are we really prepared for it?
Preparing for Moshiach’s times requires us to be ready to divest from many of our materialistic attachments and transition into a different modus operandi, in which money and materialism is not the central focus of our life. It is fine to have another home at the beach or a comfortable car and financial security. But all of these things should be secondary to our primary goal to be bonded as one with Hashem and secure in our relationship with him.
The concept is well illustrated in the following story.
A computer scientist received an important assignment in a top-secret government project and was urgently called out to Dayton, Ohio to join an elite team of engineers that were being hastily assembled to initiate the projects development. Arriving in the airport with his suitcases Sunday morning, he was dismayed to hear that his luggage would not be allowed on board the plane. He complained bitterly to the supervisor, to no avail. She showed him the plane sitting on the tarmac. It was a little twin propeller turbo jet that could only hold twelve people. She told him apologetically that only his hand luggage and a suit bag would be allowed on the plane.
Since the mission was so critically important, he left the luggage to the porter and boarded the plane, readying himself to launch the new project at 8:00 the next morning.
Right behind him came another fellow who was part of the same team, a brilliant programmer who happened to be massively built, weighing over 500 pounds. The supervisor soberly told him that she could not accommodate him on the flight. “But I have my ticket!” he protested. “If I need two seats I’ll be happy to pay.” He slapped his Amex platinum card on the counter but the supervisor wouldn’t budge. She took him to the window and showed him the little plane. “Look,” she said, “the door is only 24 inches wide; you just don’t fit on board. I’m sorry.”
If material possessions define our identity, and we are laden with “vedi zahav,” excess gold that becomes our primary objective in life, it is truly difficult to transition into a spiritual world. But if we regard our possessions as mere baggage that can be left behind, then we can easily free ourselves from attachments that tie us down to a physical existence and enjoy the spiritual bliss that awaits us in the Messianic era.
Text Copyright &copy 2012 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.
Rabbi Reich is on the faculty of the Ohr Somayach Tanenbaum Education Center.



 

Saturday, July 14, 2018


A Bridge to Nowhere

Parshas Matos

Posted on June 7, 2002 (5757) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

 

Moshe had been the consummate conciliator for the past 40 years. From the sin of the Golden Calf when he appeased Hashem through the many ordeals throughout the 40-year desert sojourn, he is constantly an advocate for the wishes of his nation. This week, however, Moshe he reacts totally different to what appears to be a simple requisition.

The children of Gad and Reuvain come to Moshe with a simple request. They are shepherds and do not want to cross the Jordan River into the Land of Canaan. They claim that the land on the east bank of the river is better for grazing. Before they even get a chance to fully present their request, Moshe releases a virtual tirade at them. For eleven verses, more than any single rebuke in the entire Torah, Moshe chastises them. He says that their request is subversive and will dissuade others from crossing the Jordan. He relives the fateful episode of the spies and their slander of the Land of Israel. He recounts the wrath of Hashem and details the suffering of Israel because of that sin. He compares the representatives who requested to remain to those terrible men, and claims that Gad and Reuvain “have risen in their place to add more burning wrath of Hashem against Israel” (Numbers: 32:6-16)

It is extremely difficult to comprehend why Moshe, normally so conciliatory, patient, and understanding, even during the most difficult of times, became so sharply incensed at this request. Obviously, Moshe’s actions are a lesson to all of us. What is it?

David was driving to the Catskills for Shabbos but set out from his Manhattan office with hardly enough time to make the trip and arrive before sundown. Traffic was backed up on the Major Deegan and crossing the Hudson via the George Washington Bridge seemed an almost impossible task. Mid-span, after sitting nearly an hour in stop-and-go traffic, he realized that the red orb in the sky was about to sink below the horizon. He had never desecrated the Shabbos before and traffic on the George Washington Bridge was not going to make him violate the Sabbath now. In a panic, he pulled his car as close as he could to the guard rail, left the keys on the visor, removed his wallet and hid it together his personal effects and hoped for the best. At worst, the car would be stolen. Maybe the police would get to it first and tow it.

Feeling a little guilty about adding to the traffic delays on the bridge, David left his car, flashers blinking, and walked back toward New York City where he decided to spend the Shabbos at a friend who lived in nearby Washington Heights.

Saturday night he returned to the bridge and his car was nowhere to be seen. He went straight to the police station and asked for the desk officer. “Did anyone see the gray Honda that was on the George Washington Bridge on Friday night?”

The officers eyes widened. “You mean the car with the keys on the visor?”

David nodded.

“Franky, get over here,” the cop yelled to his friend,” listened to this!” By now a couple of officers moved closer to David.

The sergeant raised his voice. “You mean the Honda with the flashers on?” Again David nodded, this time more nervously. You mean the Honda with the wallet with close to $500 dollars left under the front seat!” he shouted. “Was that your car!?” David shook his head meekly. “Yes, officer, that’s my car. Where is it?”

Where is it??” mocked the officer, “Where is it? Do you know how many divers we have looking for your body in the Hudson!?”

Moshe understood that the worst of all sins is not what one does privately in his heart or in his home but rather when his actions affect the spirit of others. Often, one’s self-interest mires any thought of how his conduct will affect others. The children of Gad and Reuvain had a personal issue. They did not want to cross the Jordan River because they wanted to graze in greener pastures. Yet they did not consider what effect their request might have on an entire nation. They did not take into account the severe ramifications their actions may have on the morale of hundreds of thousands of enthusiastic people wanting to enter the Holy Land.

In our lives, at home and at work, not everything that we do, say or act upon may be interpreted with the intent that motivated the action. And sometimes those misinterpretation can have devastating effects on morale, attitude and feeling. We may refuse to cross a river for a matter of convenience. Others, however, may see it as a calamity. Our job is to be conscious that everything we do affects not only ourselves, but is a bridge to many other people.

Dedicated in memory of Henry Hirsch by the Hirsch and Friedman Families

Good Shabbos!

Personal Tragedies

Parshas Matos Masei

Posted on July 9, 2007 (5767) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

Two men commit identical crimes. Both are convicted and sentenced. One remains in confinement for twenty-five years, while the other goes free after six months. How is this possible?

In this week’s Torah portion, we read that a person who commits accidental homicide is exiled for the rest of his life to one of the designated cities of refuge. However, when the High Priest dies all the accidental killers in exile at the time go free – regardless of whether they had been there for six months or twenty-five years. As a result, two men can commit identical acts of accidental homicide and serve widely different sentences. Where is the fairness in this system? And why indeed should the death of the High Priest result in amnesty for all exiled killers?

Furthermore, the Talmud tells us that the High Priest’s mother, fearful that the exiled killers would pray for her son’s untimely death, used to visit them in their places of exile and bring them food and other small gifts. But why would an old woman bringing cookies and chocolate dissuade a cooped-up killer from praying for the death of the High Priest and his early release from exile?

The commentators explain that the sentence of exile is not intended as a punishment but as the beginning of the process of rehabilitation. Accidental homicides which result in exile are due to a significant degree of negligence, of thoughtlessness and insensitivity. Had the accidental killer genuinely appreciated the sanctity of human life, he would have been extremely careful while swinging that hammer, and the accidental death would most probably never have been occurred. It is this cavalier attitude that the exile is intended to correct.

In these cities of refuge, populated for the most part by Levites, the exiled killer came into contact with people who lived not for themselves but for their Creator and their people, devoting themselves to study and prayer and to teaching, inspiring and helping others. In this environment, he learned to be sensitive and unselfish, to think about other before he thought about himself. In this environment, he also gained profound admiration and attachment to the High Priest, the peacemaker of the Jewish people, the loving father figure who tended to their spiritual needs and ailments, the ultimate Levite role model. He began to feel a personal connection to the High Priest, whether or not they had actually ever met, and learning from his example, he began to develop those positive character traits he had been missing before.

Therefore, when the High Priest died, the exiled killers who had become so attached to him were devastated. Each of them, in his own way, felt he had suffered a deep personal tragedy. This catharsis sealed forever the bond between the erstwhile killers and the saintly High Priest, thereby completing the process of their expiation. After mourning the death of the High Priest, the exiles were fully rehabilitated.

The High Priest’s mother, however, was concerned that the exiled killers would not relate to her son in a direct personal way but rather as an abstract symbol in distant Jerusalem, and therefore, they might pray for his death. Therefore, she brought them food and small gifts. Let them meet the High Priest’s mother and enjoy her cookies and chocolates. Let them see him as real flesh-and-blood human being. Let them relate to him as a living, breathing father. It was important for their own rehabilitation, and at the same time, it would protect her son from malicious prayers.

A great sage once came to a town and was told by the townspeople to avoid a certain reputed informer.

Sure enough, the man approached the sage and began to question him. The sage, however, did not beat a hasty retreat. Instead, he asked the man his name, inquired about his welfare and his family and drew him into a long conversation.

In the course of the sage’s stay in the town, he was visited often by the informer, and each time, he was received warmly. By the time the sage left, the man had made a complete turnaround in his life.

“How did you accomplish it?” someone asked the sage as he was leaving. “What did you tell him that changed him so completely?”

“Why, nothing,” said the sage. “Because I treated him as a person, he related to me as person. And why would he want to hurt another person?”

In our own lives, we sometimes hurt and offend others with meaning to, and we excuse ourselves by saying it was all unintentional. But in the Torah system of values, lack of intention does not exonerate us, only lack of control does. If these hurts and offenses could have been avoided, we must bear responsibility for them. If, however, we learn from the example of the High Priest and from the exemplary people we meet in the course of our lives, we can refine our own characters and ultimately enrich ourselves and the people around us..

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

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

Keeping Your Word

Parshas Matos

Posted on July 22, 2011 (5771) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

This week’s parsha concentrates upon the great commitment of the spoken word. In English Common Law and in most legal systems in the world, agreements that are not committed to writing and then signed by the parties are of little enforceable value.

Though the parsha concentrates on the legalism of vows and oaths in Jewish law and life, the general message that it conveys is a clear one – the spoken word binds a person to what is said and declared. This is part of the general pattern of the Torah to rigidly enforce the value of truth and to warn humans of the dangers of duplicity and falsehood in personal relationships. The ultimate punishment of a con man is that he eventually cons himself.

Today’s financial markets are strewn with the wreckage of such falsehoods and cons. Ironically, most of them originate without criminal intent involved. But once involved with falsehoods, the trap closes on individuals and it becomes well nigh impossible to extract one’s self from the clutches of this self-made web of falsehood.

My word is my bond was the slogan of honest people in all commercial enterprises. There are many fields of economic endeavor where this motto yet has legal effect and the spoken word is itself a binding commitment to buy or sell or to establish a price for an item.

Jewish rabbinic responsa over the ages is replete with instances of enforceable oral commitments. It is not for naught that the rabbis warned us that wise men should be careful as to what they say. Saying is signing – it is committing and it is binding.

There are two tractates of the Mishna and Talmud – both of considerable size and complexity – that deal with this issue of the legal and spiritual ramifications of the spoken word. Nedarim – the tractate that deals with vows (there is no perfect translation of this Hebrew term in English) – appears in seder Nashim – the order of the Mishna and the Talmud that deals with marriage, divorce and domestic relations.

This placement comes to emphasize to us the necessary commitment and honesty that is the basis of the relationship of marriage and family. The vows and commitments that a husband and wife make to each other are deemed sacrosanct in Jewish life and law. Only by realizing the seriousness of vows can one train one’s self in honest speech and true emotional commitment in family life.

The tractate of Shavuot – dealing with oaths that are taken (again there is no exact nuanced translation of this Hebrew word in English) – is found in the order of Nezikin (torts, courts and commercial issues) in the Mishna and Talmud. Honesty and probity in the world of finance and commerce is dependent upon keeping one’s word. Breaking one’s word damages everyone involved.

Many a person has been ruined by the inability to withstand the temptation of breaking one’s word for a seemingly short-term financial gain. Since this temptation is omnipresent and very persuasive, the Torah goes to great lengths to emphasize the importance of keeping one’s word under all circumstances. It reconfirms to us the maxim that “Life and death themselves are dependent upon the spoken word.”

Shabat shalom,

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

Saturday, July 7, 2018


Parshas Pinchas

Posted on July 12, 2017 (5777) By Rabbi Raymond Beyda | Series: Table Talk | Level: Beginner

20 TAMUZ 5764 //JULY 10 2004

” And the name of Israelite man who was struck with the Midianite woman was Zimri the son of Salu the Chief of a family of the tribe of Shimon” Bemidbar 25:14]

Bilaam, the wicked gentile prophet, failed to curse the Jewish people — to the contrary — he blessed them. Before leaving Balak, the King of Moab, he suggested a ploy that could bring death and destruction to the Jews. “The G-d of these people despises immorality and these people love the fineries of this world — therefore, I suggest that you set up a bazaar on the outskirts of their camp and have old women with inferior merchandise at the counter. When they ask to see better merchandise, the women should direct them into the tents where attractive young women will await to seduce them to immorality and idol worship.”

The plan, unfortunately, was successfully executed and a plague struck the people. The head of the tribe of Shimon went so far as to bring the princess of Midian into the camp, publicly flaunted her before Moshe and ridiculed our great prophet. He then secluded himself with her in his tent. Pinhas, who saw this scene, reacted by taking a spear and killing the two together and bravely carried the head of the tribe and his mistress throughout the camp, whereby the plague ceased. Pinhas received eternal reward for his zealous behavior.

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 a 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…

Tying Generations Together

Parshas Pinchas

Posted on July 13, 2011 (5771) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

The Torah records for us the genealogy of Pinchas, the true and justified zealot of Jewish history. There are many reasons advanced as to why the Torah felt impelled to tell us of the names of his father and grandfather. Many commentators saw in this an explanation to justify Pinchas’ behavior while others emphasized that it was an explanation for Pinchas’ reward and G-d granting him the blessing of peace.

But aside from these insights there is another more general message that the Torah is recording for us. And that is that a person’s behavior affects all of one’s family members, even those of previous generations who may no longer be currently numbered among the living.

A great act of sanctification of G-d’s name such as the one performed by Pinchas enhances the reputations and stature of previous generations as well My rebbe in the yeshiva summed this lesson up in his usual concise and pithy manner: “If both your grandparents and your grandchildren are proud of you and your achievements then you are probably alright in Heaven’s judgment as well.”

Our idea of immortality is based upon generations of our families, both previous generations and later ones. We find vindication of our lives and efforts in the accomplishments of those that come after us and continue our values and faith. We cannot control what children and grandchildren will do, whom they will marry and what type of life they will lead. But innately, we feel that we have a connection to the development of their lives and the actions that they will take.

The Torah emphasizes for us that Pinchas’ zealotry did not come to him in a vacuum. The Torah allows everyone freedom of will and behavior. Neither good behavior nor evil behavior is ever predestined. Yet as medicine has shown us, in the physical world there is an element of physical predestination in our DNA. And this DNA affects our moral behavior as well.

Judaism always envisioned itself not only as a universal faith but as a particular family as well. In our daily prayer service we constantly recall who our founding ancestors were. We name our children in memory of those who have preceded us. We extol a sense of family and a loyalty to the values that our families represent.

One of the most destructive trends in modern society has been the erosion of the sense of family in the world and amongst Jews particularly. Assimilation means abandoning family and abandoning family certainly contributes to intensified assimilation and loss of Jewish feelings and identity. It is ironic that in a time such as now when most children can be privileged to know grandparents and even great grandparents the relationship between generations in many Jewish families is frayed and weak.

Pinchas comes therefore to reinforce this concept of tying generations – past, present and future – together. It is imperative for us to know Pinchas’ genealogy for otherwise we have no clue as to who Pinchas was and why he behaved as he did in those given circumstances.

Shabat shalom,
Rabbi Berel Wein