The Chain Effect of Our Actions

Parshas Ki Seitzei

Posted on September 7, 2011 (5771) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

Rashi in his commentary to this week’s parsha emphasizes the idea of cause and effect. Rashi points out that this is true in both a negative and positive sense. In the words of the rabbis of the Mishna, a mitzva causes other mitzvot to occur while a transgression automatically drags along other sins in its wake. This is why the rabbis describe a wise person as being one who can see the future consequences of events and human behavior.

It is not only the individual act itself that is of consequence and importance. It is rather the sequence of behavior and related consequences that flow from that individual act that are just as important. The Jewish soldier who takes the captive woman unto himself in a moment of temporary passion is not intending that the end result of this act will be enduring domestic strife, hatred and eventually a dissolute and dangerous child.

But all behavior creates a ripple effect in life and many unintended consequences are derived from an intentional act of poor judgment and base desire. And the opposite is also true. A positive act of tradition and Torah service brings to the person performing that act of goodness and kindness unforeseen opportunities to perform other acts of goodness and kindness.

The performance of mitzvot leads to there being a protective fence that surrounds one’s home and is redemptive in so many other unforeseen ways. Again, Judaism is committed to a far sighted view of life and behavior and the understanding that nothing that a person does or says is truly to be deemed inconsequential.

The charitable person will be given many continuing opportunities to be charitable. The miser will soon realize that no one will frequent his home or office. Initially he may feel relieved at this situation, but he will eventually regret it for it brings with it a loss of stature, a poor reputation and a loneliness of the soul.

The story is told about a wealthy man who, because of his wealth, gave much charity and had many visitors and was held in great esteem in his community. People came to him for advice and succor, though he was not particularly noted for his wit or wisdom. One day he decided that he would no longer give any charity. As this news spread, the visitors soon dwindled and eventually stopped altogether. The man complained to his wife: “I don’t understand why people stopped coming. My funny jokes and good advice are still available to them!”

People often mistake honors and attention paid to them as being their personal right when that honor or attention is only given to them because of their good deeds. It is clear that a person’s actions and behavior propels his reputation and standing in the eyes of humankind as well as Heaven.

The Psalmist put it most bluntly: “If only humans would be wise and discerning and appreciate what their end will look like.” It is not only about our eventual mortality that the Psalmist speaks. It is also certainly about the consequences here in our lifetime – of our acts, attitudes and behavior.

Shabat Shalom,

Rabbi Berel Wein

Don’t Forget to Say Thank You

Parshas Ki Seitzei

Posted on August 15, 2002 (5762) By Rabbi Pinchas Avruch | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

In its discussion of foreign peoples who may convert to Judaism, the Torah excludes Ammonites and Moavites, but allows Edomites and Egyptians, under certain conditions. “You shall not reject an Edomite, for he is your brother; you shall not reject an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land. Children who are born to them in the third generation may enter the [Jewish people].” (Devarim/Deuteronomy 23:8-9). Rashi (R’ Shlomo Yitzchaki, 1040-1105, the commentator par excellence, whose commentary is considered basic to the understanding of the text) notes that Egyptians are allowed to convert and eventually marry naturally born Jews because they accepted Ya’akov Avinu (Jacob our Patriarch), his children and grandchildren into Egypt during the famine. Therefore, in our appreciation, they may convert.

We should have appreciation for their giving us refuge!? The collection of the Egypt’s abundance during the most prosperous years of the Egyptian Empire was under the watchful eye of our forefather Yosef (Joseph). The aforementioned seven years of famine came to a conclusion five years early in the merit of the arrival of Ya’akov Avinu. How did they reimburse us for those kindnesses? They turned us into slaves, beating us and forcing backbreaking labor upon us. They exacerbated the work conditions by refusing to supply straw for the bricks while maintaining the production quota. They slaughtered our sons, embedding them in the bricks and tossing them into the Nile. How can we be obligated to have any semblance of appreciation to this morally corrupt nation?

Michtav Me’Eliyahu (collected writings and discourses of Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler (1891-1954) of London and B’nai Brak, one of the outstanding personalities and thinkers of the Mussar movement) explains that, although the years spent in Egypt were pain filled, that does not detract from their gracious act, no matter how mean spirited they were throughout. Yes, the Torah tells us, the obligation for appreciation extends that far.

But we should not be surprised, continues Rabbi Dessler. Our lifelong mission is to foster our G-d consciousness and emulate His ways and we see from the Torah that G-d’s own “sense of appreciation” is wondrous. He “safeguards the covenant and the kindness for those who love Him and those who observe His commandments, for a thousand generations” (ibid. 7:9). This is for our performance of His mitzvos (Divine commandments), acts which are for our benefit but do nothing for Him (as it is impossible for finite humans to so anything that benefits the infinite, omnipotent Master of the Universe). Similarly, when G-d tried, through Yirmiyahu (Jeremiah) to bring us back to His service, the Prophet relates, “The word of the L-rd came to me, saying, ‘Go and cry in the ears of Yerushalayim saying: Thus says the L-rd, I remember in your favor, the devotion of your youth, your love as a bride, when you went after me in the wilderness, in a land that was not sown.'” (2:1-2) In truth, when the Jewish nation followed G-d out into the wilderness, they had just witnessed the most fantastic array of miracles and knew G-d is all powerful and looking only for their best interest; they were also motivated to follow Him to ensure their survival! Nevertheless, even though G-d has no inherent need for followers, G-d paints this decision as a generous leap of faith, expressing appreciation for their trusting Him. If G-d blesses us with kindness as a response to our actions which do nothing for him, how much greater is our obligation to one who DOES bestow goodness upon us?

But, more so, concludes Rabbi Dessler, in today’s day we find ourselves more challenged to reach out and grab the mitzvah opportunities. But knowing G-d is reaching out to us, generously showering us with His goodness in response to our genuine embrace of Him and His mitzvos – chessed (acts of kindness), prayer and Torah study opportunities that surround us and concretize our connection to G-d, acts which benefit our lives – make it much easier for us to reach out and take hold of the extended hand.

Have a good Shabbos!

The Torah’s Path to Justice

Parshas Shoftim

Posted on August 31, 2011 (5771) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

This is the ‘law and order’ parsha of the Torah, so to speak. Implicit in studying it is the realization of the delicate balance between an ordered society, with some restraints on personal freedom and expression, and, on the other hand, a society of complete personal freedom but also of anarchy and chaos.

The judges and police that the Torah commands and authorizes are to be the arbiters that decide the rules of society and the acceptable behavior of its citizens. But, they are merely the enforcers of the law. It is the citizenry itself that sets the limits and mores of the society.

As we have recently seen, thousands of police cannot, by themselves, stop looting, rioting and other forms of social mayhem. There has to be an agreed upon social imperative within the society to make for order. Traffic flows because there is an unwritten but nevertheless binding agreement among drivers to observe traffic signals and stop lights.

Police can be a deterrent to law breakers, but police do not guarantee a civil or lawful society. Eventually all societies based purely upon police power falter and fail. Again, witness what is happening in the countries that surround us. Police states cannot control beliefs, ideas and human longings. These eventually rise to the fore, unfortunately many times violently and in revolution, and assert themselves to be stronger than the power of the police state. Police are only valid as the enforcers of the public will. When they overstep that boundary, they can become a very negative force in society.

The Torah bids judges and courts to rule fairly, justly and righteously. There is no judge in the world that enters the courtroom without personal prejudices and preconceived beliefs. Yet, the Torah still demands that this judge, burdened by this weight, weigh the matters before him fairly and decently. The pursuit of true justice is a never ending one.

The rabbis of the Talmud advised us to choose a court that has the established reputation for being fair, just and wise. The Talmud lists for us courts and judges that met this description in the early centuries of the Common Era. Being a judge is always a lonely, difficult position. No one will be completely satisfied with a judge’s decision. There always are perceived slights and injustices that occur in all legal proceedings.

The Torah bids all of us – judges, litigants, witnesses and the general public – to somehow rise above these inescapable human failings and continue to pursue justice and righteousness as best we can. The prophet challenges us “to create justice.” All human creations have an element of imperfection incorporated within them. We should not allow the presence of this unavoidable imperfection to cloud our general view of the necessity for the pursuit of justice to continue.

Judges may falter and be found wanting, but the Torah’s insistence upon the rule of justice and right in society is never ending. Both judges and police when set upon the Torah’s path of pursuing justice and a moral society fulfill a vital role in society and government.

Shabat shalom,

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

 

 

Constructive Destruction

Parshas Reeh

Posted on August 4, 2010 (5770) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

The goal was nothing less than total destruction on a vast scale. Moses warned the Jewish people that when they crossed into the Promised Land they would encounter all sorts of pagan idols and places of worship. These intolerable abominations were to be immediately eradicated. Pulverize every idol and graven image, he exhorted them. Burn down their asheirah trees. Destroy their altars and temples. Wipe out every trace of the idolatry prevalent in the land. The exhortation concludes, however, with a rather strange directive, “You shall not do so to Hashem!”

Why did Moses find it necessary to tell the people not to mount a campaign of destruction against Hashem? Who would ever dream of wantonly destroying Jewish places of worship?

The commentators explain that human nature has a way of adapting to the most unpleasant circumstances. Sensitive people exposed to violence and mayhem for longer periods of time very often become hardened and thick-skinned. After a while, deeds and spectacles which would have scandalized and revolted them no longer have the same effect. They become different people, cruel, hard, merciless.

When Moses told the Jewish people to attack the pagan culture with utmost violence, to uproot, pulverize, smash everything in sight, they had good reason to be concerned about how this would affect their character. Would formerly gentle, refined people become brutalized and violent?

There was no need to worry, Moses reassured them. Smashing idols was not an act of destruction, and it would not transform them into violent people. On the contrary, cleansing the land of the pagan abominations was a constructive enterprise of the highest order. Smashing idols would never lead them to acts of wanton and gratuitous violence.

“You shall not do so to Hashem!” Moses told them. This was a promise rather than a command. In other words, do not be afraid to attack the idols with unrelenting ferocity. You shall not become inclined to turn that same destructiveness against Hashem’s holy places. You shall remain the same high-minded, refined people that you were before.

Several army officers, one of them a field doctor, went to see a boxing match. As the pugilists stepped into the ring, the crowd greeted them with loud and boisterous cheers.

The match began. Punches and blows flew through the air. Most missed their mark, but some of them landed. After two rounds, both fighters were bleeding profusely from cuts to the face. The crowd loved it and screamed with delight at every new burst of blood.

The army officers were on their feet, lustily cheering on the fighters. Only the army doctor remained seated. He looked pale, and he face was bathed in a cold sweat.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” asked one of his comrades. “You look ill.”

“I cannot bear to watch,” said the doctor. “The sight of blood makes me queasy.”

The other officer laughed. “That’s a fine joke,” he said. “You queasy at the sight of blood? Why, I’ve seen you amputate a soldier’s leg on the battlefield without batting an eyelash. What’s a little blood to you? You must be immune to the sight of blood.”

“You don’t understand,” said the doctor. “When I operate in the hospital or out on the battlefield, I am healing my patients. That is not blood of violence. The blood flowing in that ring down there is of a totally different character, and I have no stomach for it.”

In our own lives, we often find it necessary to take harsh measures in our relations with our children, family members or business associates. Many people who find themselves in these situations experience feelings of self-doubt. Are they becoming somewhat cold and callous? The answer lies in focusing on the positive results we aim to achieve. If our motivations are constructive, well-advised and devoid of anger and frustration, we can rest assured that we will not suffer any spiritual damage.

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

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

 

Parshas Reeh

Posted on August 6, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Ben Tzion Shafier | Series: The Shmuz on the Parsha | Level: Intermediate

What is wrong with desiring meat? The Torah might tell me that if I can’t afford meat, I shouldn’t eat it. If it is beyond my means and purchasing it would create an undue expense, I shouldn’t buy any. But what is wrong with just desiring it?

 

Pleasures and Lusts

The answer to this can be best understood with a moshol. Imagine that you find yourself shipwrecked on a desert island. You haven’t eaten in three days, and you are driven by one burning desire – food. As you hobble along the island, you notice a brown paper bag under a palm tree. You open it up to find a dry peanut butter sandwich that has sat out in the sun for three months. You gulp down that sandwich with more gusto than anything that you have ever eaten in your life.

Here is the question: how much pleasure did you derive from eating that sandwich? There is no question that you had a powerful urge, a very real desire, but how much enjoyment did you receive from that activity? The answer is not much. It certainly relieved your hunger, and in that sense brought a release from pain, but it would be hard to imagine that for the rest of your life you would be reminiscing back to the sensation of the bitter, spoiled peanut butter and dry, cracked bread as it scratched your throat when you swallowed it.

This is a good example of the distinction between pleasure and lust. You ate that sandwich with great desire – a lot of passion – but you didn’t derive much pleasure from that activity. Lust is the pull to engage in a given activity. Pleasure is the amount of enjoyment you receive from it. As unusual as it may sound, most people fail to make a distinction between pleasures and passions.

All will be Set Right

Parshas Eikev

Posted on August 8, 2012 (5772) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

The parsha ties together the observance of the Torah commandments, especially the warnings against paganism and idolatry, with the earthly blessings of longevity and prosperity. Over the ages this has caused great philosophic debate and discussion, for this cause and effect relationship is not always apparent in the national or personal lives of the Jewish people.

Many commentators hasten to add that these biblical promises refer to biblical times when the Divine Spirit was palpably present amongst the Jewish community and the spirit of prophecy was also present and prevalent in the Land of Israel. This means that it was applicable to First Temple times only, for in Second Temple times the spirit of prophecy was absent in the Jewish commonwealth.

Perhaps this is an insight as to why the rabbis attributed the destruction of the First Temple primarily to idolatry – a fulfillment of the cause and effect system of justice as outlined in this week’s parsha – while the demise of the Second Temple was attributed to social dispute and baseless hatred, an issue never specifically mentioned in this week’s Torah presentation.

It appears that different equations, moral gauges and causes affected the Jewish commonwealth’s spiritual status during Second Temple times than were present in First Temple times when prophecy and Divine Spirit were current and abundantly visible. In any event, it is apparent that the direct cause and effect relationship between observance of G-d’s commandments and blessings and prosperity and disobedience causing punishment and disaster has not always been evident in the annals of Jewish history and life, especially in our long years of exile and persecution.

The very fact that the Torah in this week’s parsha makes this cause and effect relationship so patently clear, and in fact repeats it a number of times, raises the age old problem of why the righteous suffer and the wicked are rewarded, in this world at least. This basic faith dilemma has its biblical origins in the book of Iyov where the problem is raised, debated and thoroughly discussed, but basically left unanswered.

Over the long Jewish exile with its attendant difficulties and pogroms this gnawing problem of faith has always accompanied us in every generation and circumstance. The events of the Holocaust, almost unimaginable in its numbers and horror, has certainly been a test of faith for many Jews, even for those who themselves were spared that actual experience. Yet the faith of Israel is that somehow in the unfathomable system of G-d’s justice, all will be set right.

In reality, this is the main message of this week’s parsha. It informs us that our actions have consequences and that there is a guiding hand to Jewish and world history and events that will eventually reveal itself. So, our task remains, as it always was – to fulfill G-d’s commandments and to behave morally and justly. The whole system of G-d’s justice, opaque as it may seem to us to be, is simply to remind us of our potential and greatness, of the importance of our behavior in the grand scheme of things, and to reinforce our sense of destiny as individuals and as a people.

Shabat shalom,

Rabbi Berel Wein

All By Myself

Parshas Eikev

Posted on July 24, 2002 (NULL) By Rabbi Yaakov Menken | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 “And you shall eat and be satisfied, and you shall bless HaShem your G-d for the good land which He gave to you.” [Deuteronomy 8:10]

This is not merely a prediction, but a Commandment. We must bless G-d after a meal, and acknowledge all that G-d has done for us.

The specified time for this blessing is striking. Don’t we feel most thankful before the meal? Shouldn’t we say the blessing when we’re hungry? We say most blessings before rather than after — including the blessing on learning Torah. That is a Torah Commandment as well, but a blessing to say before we begin rather than after we finish.

This anomoly reflects the Torah’s profound understanding of human nature. Yes, it is easier to thank G-d before the meal, and that is exactly the point.

The Ohr Gedalyahu, Rabbi Gedalyah Schorr zt”l, tells us that the holy Kabbalistic work, the Zohar, says that the Torah frequently relates the positive and the negative. Our reading, he says, is one example of this concept. The Torah goes on to warn us that after we are sated, we can make a tragic mistake.

“Guard yourselves lest you forget HaShem your G-d… lest you eat and be satisfied, and build good houses and dwell therein… and you instill pride in your hearts and forget HaShem your G-d who took you out from Egypt, from the house of slavery… and you say in your hearts, ‘my strength and the might of my hand made me all of this great wealth!'” [8:11-17] Say a blessing recognizing that it all comes from G-d, to avoid the false claim that your own abilities brought you wealth.

The story is told of a woman late for a business appointment. Caught in traffic, she begins to pray. “G-d, help me get there, and I’ll light candles every Shabbat!” And at that moment the police open a lane around the accident and she gets through. She hits a long line at a toll. “G-d, help me get there, and I’ll be more honest in my business!” A new lane opens, and she slides through. With three minutes to go, there’s no parking space to be found. “G-d, help me get there, and I’ll even stop gossiping!” And at that moment, someone exits a nearby store, and pulls out from the space directly opposite the building entrance.

With moments to spare, she gets to the office. “It’s ok, G-d. I worked it out myself.”

This is why the Torah calls upon us to remember G-d specifically when His blessings have reached us, so that we not look upon the areas where we have been most fortunate and claim, “I did it myself.”

When it comes to learning Torah, the process is reversed. As the famous Israeli columnist Amnon Denker once commented, “the appetite comes with the eating.” The more Torah one learns, the more one wishes to learn. So it is before learning that one least appreciates the tremendous blessing G-d bestowed upon us by giving us His Torah.

We have just observed the mournful 9th of Av, the day both Temples were destroyed. The Talmud (Nedarim 81a) says that one reason for the destruction of the First Temple, drawn from the prophet Yirmiyahu (Jeremiah), is that scholars “did not bless upon the Torah before learning it.”

Rabbeinu Yonah explains how such an apparently trivial matter could cause the destruction of G-d’s House and the exile of the Jewish people. He says that people would learn Torah, but not because it was G-d’s gift to us. It was merely an intellectual pursuit, a curiosity, no more important than any other endeavor.

We need to recognize both the material and spiritual wealth that G-d has bestowed upon us. We must bless G-d, and recognize all our wealth, at precisely the moments when we are most likely to fail — after seeing material blessing, and before dwelling in the spiritual.

One final note of interest. If the two are parallel, then why did our Sages institute an additional blessing before eating, but not one after learning? The answer is simple: we’re never finished learning!

Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Yaakov Menken