First Impressions

Parshas Vayera

Posted on November 3, 2009 (5770) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

It is a blistering hot day. Abraham, that paragon of hospitality, is sitting by the door anxiously looking for passersby that he can invite into his home. Suddenly, he sees three dust-covered desert nomads trudging down the road. Before he brings them into his house, Abraham asks them to wash their feet, because he suspects they might be pagans who worship the dust of their feet. Then he feeds them lavishly.

Before they leave, the travelers, really angels in disguise, inform Abraham that Sarah would give birth in a year. Sarah overhears and bursts into laughter. After all, Abraham is one hundred years and she herself is a sprightly ninety, not exactly the height of the child-bearing years.

The Almighty, however, does not consider the situation humorous. He asks Abraham why Sarah found this a laughing matter, and Abraham, in turn, rebukes Sarah for laughing.

Let us consider for a moment. What had Sarah done wrong? After all, she did not know that the dusty wayfarers were really angels. Why then should she have thought that their blessings were efficacious? Can she be blamed for finding the fanciful good wishes of these wayfarers laughable?

The commentators explain that Sarah might indeed not have known that the wayfarers blessing her were angels, and this was exactly the reason she deserved to be reprimanded. She saw before her people who dressed differently, spoke differently, thought differently, and therefore, she looked down on them. She did not consider the blessings of such people worthwhile.

But how could she judge who is worthy and who is not? How could she know what lay within the hearts and souls of other people? How could she determine their inner value?

This was the reason Sarah was reprimanded. She took one look at these dusty wayfarers and instantly jumped to the conclusion that they were worthless people whose blessings were equally worthless.

A young man approached the stately house and knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked again. Still no response.

Suddenly, he heard a hoarse voice speak. “What are you doing here, young fellow?”

He turned and saw an old man dressed in tramp’s rags sitting on the ground, his back against the wall. He had not noticed him before.

“I’ve come to see the great sage, old man,” the young man replied. “I want to become his disciple and learn from his knowledge and wisdom.”

“Hah!” said the tramp. “He doesn’t have so much knowledge, and he has even less wisdom.”

“How dare you?” the young man replied in a flash of anger. “What does a person like you know about knowledge and wisdom?” He turned back to the door and resumed knocking. Still no response.

The following day, the young man returned. His knock was answered by a servant who showed him into the presence of the sage. Amazingly, the sage seemed to be the identical twin of the beggar.

“You recognize me, don’t you?” said the sage, “I was the man sitting on the ground. I am afraid I cannot accept you as my disciple.”

“But why?” the young man asked plaintively. “How was I to know it was really you?”

“You saw a man,” said the sage, “and based on his outward appearance you decided that he could now nothing about knowledge or wisdom. You can never be a disciple of mine.”

In our own lives, we are called upon to make value judgments about other people all the time. Whether it is in a business, social or any other setting, we tend to jump to conclusions about new people. We rely on first impressions. We look at their clothing, their accessories, their bearing, their air of sophistication or lack of it, and we make assumptions about their intelligence, character, talents and social standing. First impressions are certainly important, and we should always try to make a good first impression on others. Nonetheless, it is unfair to pigeonhole and stereotype people on the basis of external appearance. Appearances can be deceiving, and we could be missing out on some very fine blessings.

Text Copyright © 2009 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

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

 

 

 

A Glimpse of the Divine Presence

Parshas Vayera

Posted on November 11, 2011 (5772) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

The Lord appears to Avraham at a very strange time. He is convalescing from his surgical circumcision; the day is very hot and it is high noon; and he is apparently looking for human company as he sits at the entrance to his tent. And even though he does espy three strangers and invites them in, the Lord, so to speak, interrupts this happening by appearing just then to Avraham. He is left conflicted as to which of his meetings he should give precedence to.

The rabbis deduce from Avraham’s behavior that greeting and hosting human guests even takes precedence over communicating with the Divine Spirit! But the fact that such a juxtaposition of events occurs at the same time is itself a great lesson in life and faith.

The Lord appears to people at strange and unpredictable times. To some it is in sickness and despair. To others it is at moments of joy and seeming success. Some glimpse the Divine in the beauty and complexity of nature while others find their solace and epiphany in the halls of study and in challenges to the intellect. Since we are all different in nature and outlook, the Lord customizes His appearance to each one of us to fit our unique circumstances.

Thus people experience their own sense of spirituality and connection to their inner essence and to their Creator differently and at different moments in their lives. Some are frightened into such an experience while others enter into it with serenity and confidence. But we can certainly agree that there is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to dealing with our souls and the eternal One.

The Lord appears to Avraham at the moment of his hospitality and tolerance towards strangers. In the tent of Avraham and Sarah, creatures can enter as Bedouin Arabs covered with desert dust and leave refreshed as radiant angels. It is in the service of others and in the care for the needs of others that the Lord appears in the tent of Avraham and Sarah. It is in the goodness of their hearts that the Lord manifests His presence, so to speak, to Avraham and Sarah.

Every one of us has traits and a nature that defines us. Just as chesed – goodness, kindness, and care for others – defined Avraham and Sarah, so too are we defined by our concerns, habits and behavior. And it is within that background that the Lord appears to each of us individually, if we are wise enough to recognize His presence, so to speak.

The prophet Yirmiyahu teaches us that in times of trouble and sickness the Lord appears to us “from afar.” But, nevertheless, He appears to us. The great Rabbi Menahem Mendel of Kotzk was asked: “Where can one find God?” He answered in his usual direct fashion: “Wherever one is willing to allow Him to enter.” The performance of the acts of Torah and goodness, the bending of our traits and will towards service and concern for others, are the means by which we will glimpse the Divine presence within ourselves and in our homes – in health and contentment.

Shabat shalom,

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

When History Got Personal

Parshas Lech Lecha

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

 

 

Defying Natural Order

Parshas Lech Lecha

Posted on October 26, 2017 (5778) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

In this week’s Torah portion we find the moving exchange between Avraham and Hashem, in which Hashem promises to secure the Land of Israel for Avrahams future descendants. To this promise, Avraham responds, ‘But I have no children that will perpetuate my values and spread them to the world at large’ ‘Whatever you give me is insignificant if the dreams that are closest to my heart remain unrealized’!.

Hashem directs Avraham to step outside, gaze up at the stars and count them. “So shall be your seed!” he promises. ‘Your children will fill the world like the stars’.

It certainly paints a fascinating scenario. But why did Hashem require Avraham to first count the stars? What was the purpose of this exercise in futility? And are we truly as many as the stars. Are we not told by Hashem that we will always remain the smallest of the nations?

A scintilating insight is presented by the saintly Imrei Emes that addresses this very point. Hashem told Avraham to go out and count the stars and he immediately obeyed. Have you ever tried to counting stars? Before very long it becomes a frustrating and nigh impossible task. One soon forgets which ones were already counted and which ones remain to be calculated. Yet Avraham persisted in fulfilling Hashem’s command. He continued to count until Hashem said “Enough”!

, “So shall be your seed.” said Hashem. Your children too will assume seemingly impossible tasks to fulfill my slightest whim. They will scale mountains and traverse oceans in their quest for the truth. They will tenaciously abide by my Torah’s teachings in the face of impossible challenge. They will remain locked in a transcendent bond with their Creator even under the most trying circumstances. Neither tantalizing material delights nor the dazzle and shine of humanistic and enlightened philosophies will seduce them.

Hashem was not simply comparing Avraham’s descendants to the stars. He was promising him that his act of counting the stars–a seemingly futile task simply would be an indelibly etched into the genetic makeup of his progeny.

In the darkest hours of our history, confronted with barbaric persecutions and seemingly insurmountable difficulties, the Jewish people tenaciously clung to the Torah’s teachings, defying the natural order. This ability to exist on a sublime and transcendent plane is a spiritual force we inherited from Avraham, and it sprung from Hashem’s promise to him that this force would be forever implanted in his descendants. When we are cognizant of these sublime powerful energies that are embedded in our genes we too can emulate our Avos Hakedoshim and realize our life’s potential to its fullest measure.

Wishing you a wonderful Shabbas

Rabbi Naftali Reich

Text Copyright © 2013 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

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

 

The Miracle of Free Will

Parshas Noach

Posted on October 15, 2004 (5765) By Rabbi Elly Broch | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

 “And from all that lives, of all flesh, two of each shall you bring into the ark to keep alive with you; they shall be male and female.” (Beraishis/Genesis 6:19)

G-d decided to inundate the earth with a flood due to the corruption of humanity and the animal kingdom. Noah, due to his righteousness, was commanded to build a gigantic craft in which he, his family, and an uncorrupted selection of every type of creature could escape the cataclysmic event.

Ramban (1) explains that although the ark was an extremely big structure, it was only through a miracle that the craft could have contained all the variety of life, plus enough food for an entire year. Why, then, was it necessary for Noah to build such an immense craft? Could G-d have not performed the same miracle with a smaller, less cumbersome ark? Ramban suggests that, beside the fact that only a boat of such magnitude would cause a stir among mankind that a catastrophic event was indeed on the way, this is the way of the miracles described in the Torah and Prophets. Individuals must attempt to perform all that is humanly possible before the creator will supplement it with the miraculous.

Rabbi Avigdor Miller (2) explains that where miracles are deemed necessary, G-d chooses to minimize them. The main purpose of our existence is to utilize our free will to the greatest extent possible. Life is about making decisions, especially in the realm of morality and spirituality, and it is these decisions that promote a relationship between us and our Creator, a connectedness that is our ultimate reward for serving Him. If miracles commonly occurred that could only be attributed to the Divine, mankind would be robbed of their freewill and the reward that it yields. We understand the notion that proportionate to the exertion and effort expended to achieve an objective is the value of that achievement. This is also the case in the spiritual world: the more effort invested in gaining an awareness of the Creator the greater the intensity of the relationship. Thus, even miraculous events contain natural aspects and can be rationalized and attributed to natural causes, serving as a challenge to us, facilitating our growth.

If we look around us we are confronted with these types of mundane miracles every day. Why should we consider it any less miraculous when food grows from the ground than if it descends from the sky? The number of precise processes and steps are astounding and all point to miraculous plan and purpose. We are now experiencing the seasonal transition to autumn, commonly known as “fall” because the leaves fall from the trees. This phenomenon is extremely important because the leaves that fall decay into the ground and provide essential nutrients which the earth lost during the summer months of production. Also, it becomes cooler with less direct sunlight as we advance into winter, which stops the earth from producing crops and vegetation allowing rest and replenishment for the earth. If this did not occur the earth would turn into a barren desert due to overproduction and lack of nutrients. The plan and purpose are evident.

In order to maintain our free will, the miracles of life are seemingly mundane, automatic and perpetual. Our challenge is to think objectively and to investigate the world around us to the best of our abilities through the Torah’s lens, thereby uncovering the Divine in all aspects of life.

Have a Good Shabbos!

Missed Opportunities

Parshas Noach

Posted on October 26, 2011 (5772) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

One can only view the entire Torah narrative of parshat Noach as being one that describes lost opportunities, of roads not taken and chances missed. It begins with the generation of Noach itself. Noach warns his society of the looming disaster that will destroy them and their world and its civilization. Either he is not persuasive enough or the society is purposely and perversely oblivious to what is about to happen to their world.

Many times in history, both Jewish and general, we are witness to the consequences of not taking heed of warnings and ignoring evident signs of danger. No one likes to listen to prophets of gloom and doom. These contrarians disturb our daily lives and its sense of equilibrium and inertia. We say that we want positive change to occur but in our hearts we are more than satisfied to have the status quo of life remain.

So Noach’s generation misses an opportunity to save itself and thereby to change all of later world history. They judge Noach and his ark building project as being odd if not entirely daft. So, even as the rains begin and the water begins to rise they continue to scoff at Noach and his message to them.

The unwanted savior is usually ignored in human events. He does not fit our preconceived matrix of help and salvation and thus, though he may be accurate and correct in his assessments, he is usually reviled, ridiculed and ignored. I need not give examples of this truism of human behavior to those of us who have lived in Israel over the past number of decades.

After the flood it is Noach himself who is found wanting in this very trait of missed opportunities. The reason that the commentators have always seemed to treat Noach negatively, even harshly, is because he missed out on creating a new world unsullied by past error and sin. An opportunity such is that, essentially the same one offered to Adam and Chava in the Garden of Eden, has never again been offered to anyone else in the long history of human civilization.

Not accepting that offer, not seizing that opportunity is the weakness that dooms Noach to criticism and bad reviews in Jewish rabbinic scholarship. The Torah itself advances clearly the necessity to make correct decisions and choices in life. The Torah tells us to choose life over death, good over evil, the eternal over the fleeting.

Many times the refusal to make any choice when the correct one was patently present is not viewed in Judaism as being cautious or neutral. Rather it is viewed as being a fatally wrong choice. An opportunity squandered is a sin and sins of omission are many times worse and more dangerous than sins of commission.

Our lives are defined by the choices that we have made and continue to make. Often times the necessity of making such choices is unavoidable for outside circumstances crowd in upon us. Hopefully the Lord will grant us enough wisdom to take advantage of opportunities presented and to make wise choices in our personal and national lives.

Shabat shalom,

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

Noah’s Spiritual Leadership

Parshas Noach

Posted on October 7, 2010 (5771) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

The usual take on Noach seems to be that even though he was himself a righteous individual he really is not to be overly commended since he was unable – some say even unwilling – to save his generation from the cataclysm of the flood.

Since the opinions of the rabbis and the sages of Israel over all of the ages is pretty much divided on how to deal with Noach – especially vis a vis Avraham – I really cannot venture a definitive opinion on this matter. However as an individual and certainly as a rabbi I empathize greatly with Noach and the challenges that he faced.

The story is told about a great Jewish holy man (insert any favorite name you may wish here) who once ruefully stated: “When I was young and fresh out of my yeshiva training and undertaking my first rabbinic post I was convinced that I could influence all of humankind for the good. However, as I grew older I realized that this was beyond my abilities, so I concentrated my efforts on changing my community for the better.

As I grew still older, I realized that this was also beyond my capabilities so I decided to concentrate my efforts on my synagogue members solely and elevate them spiritually to proper heights. This I also discovered was not within my capabilities so I now concentrated on changing my family members for the better.

When it became apparent to me that this was also a somewhat futile effort, I finally realized that my efforts should be directed solely towards my own personal self-improvement.” Though this is obviously an overly pessimistic view of Jewish spiritual leadership and its ability to change and influence people, it certainly gives us an insight into Noach, his greatness and eventual tragedy.

Noach builds his ark publicly and painstakingly over many decades. He exhorts his generation to repent from its evil ways and warns of the coming apocalypse. For his pains and prescience he is mocked and reviled, rejected and isolated. Some of his own descendants will eventually betray him with their behavior and attitudes.

It is not the trauma of the Flood itself that so depresses Noach as much as it is that somehow he has not found a way to communicate his message to his society and even to his own family. We are told little about Noach after his family disappointments upon emerging from the ark. He is apparently sapped of his will to influence others after so many years of being rejected. He sees no basic difference in post-flood humankind than in pre-flood humankind.

Avraham will also face many disappointments and failures in his chosen mission of spreading Godliness in a heathen, immoral and violent world. But if Avraham will initially fail with Yishmael he will succeed with Yitzchak. If Avraham cannot enlist Lot in his cause he will at least save him from destruction. If he cannot change Sodom he will strive to see that it is never again rebuilt.

The true test of spiritual leadership is what happens after one’s dreaded disappointments have proven to have been accurate. Since Noach could not save his generation prior to the flood, he somehow gave up on the generations after the flood as well. Therein lays the undertone of implicit criticism of this great and pious person that is reflected in Jewish rabbinic tradition over the ages.

Shabat shalom.

 

 

Let Us Make Man

Parshas Bereishis

Posted on October 14, 2009 (5770) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

Why would the Creator need any help to complete the work of creation? Surely, the One who formed the world out of nothingness, who created all the hosts of the heavens and the teeming life of the earth, was perfectly capable of creating anything He chose to create. And yet, on the seventh day of creation, He said, “Naaseh adam. Let us make man.” Whose help was He seeking? And why?

The Sages explain that Hashem was consulting with the angels, inviting their participation in the process of creating mankind. Although He obviously did not need their participation, Hashem was teaching us to be sensitive to protocol and proper behavior. Before undertaking a major project, consult with others.

The questions, however, continue to baffle. The angels were created on the third day, yet Hashem did not consult with them until the sixth day when He created mankind. Why didn’t he invite their input when He was creating the mountains and the valleys, the tress and the flowers, the animals and the fishes?

The commentators explain that the creation of mankind was indeed the most appropriate setting for teaching the lessons of proper etiquette. How do we measure the worth of a person? On the one hand, every person is infinitely valuable, worthy of having the entire universe created for his sake, as the Sages tell us. On the other hand, there are people who are undoubtedly a disgrace to their purpose and design.

How then do we evaluate a person? We see if he is attuned to others or if he is totally egocentric. Only a person who recognizes that there is much to be learned from the knowledge and experience of his peers, who is sensitive to the feelings and sensibilities of others, truly has the potential for growth and fulfillment as a sublime human being.

Therefore, it was in the context of the creation of man that Hashem teaches us this important lesson. A tree is a tree and a flower is a flower no matter what, but a human being who has no use for other people’s advice is not much of a human being. He is not a mensch.

A young lady came to seek the advice of a great sage.

“I am so confused,” she said. “I have many suitors who have asked my hand in marriage. They all have such fine qualities, and I simply cannot make up my mind. What shall I do?”

“Tell me about their qualities,” said the sage.

“Well, they are all handsome and well-established. I enjoy their company, they are so entertaining. Why, I can sit and listen to any of them for hours and hours.”

The sage shook his head. “These are not the qualities you should be seeking. It is all good and well if a man is handsome and wealthy, but does he have a good character? Is he a fine person? As for their being so entertaining, it is far more important that your husband be a good listener than a good talker. Look for a fine man who knows how to listen. He will bring you happiness.”

In our own lives, we must learn to differentiate between self-confidence, which is an admirable quality, and egotism, which is not. It is all good and well to believe in one’s own talents and abilities. The truly wise person, however, knows that all people have limitations, and there is always someone of value to be learned from other people. And even in situations where other people do not have anything worthwhile to contribute, the wise person will be sensitive to their feelings and make them feel involved and helpful. If we can find it in ourselves to overcome our egotistic tendencies and behave in the sublime manner of which human beings are capable, we will reap not only spiritual rewards but material and emotional rewards as well.

 Text Copyright © 2009 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

In the Garden Where We Live

Parshas Bereishis

Posted on October 4, 2018 (5779) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

And HASHEM G-d planted a garden in Eden from the east, and He placed there the man whom He had formed. And HASHEM G-d caused to sprout from the ground every tree pleasant to see and good to eat, and the Tree of Life in the midst of the garden, and the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil… And HASHAEM G-d commanded man, saying, “Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat. But of the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat of it, for on the day that you eat thereof, you shall surely die.” (Breishis 2:8-9/16-17)

What are we to make of these two trees? What do they mean to us? That is the question? How are we to relate to the test of Adam the first man and his situation in the Garden of Eden? That was then and now is now! No! If the Torah is telling us about these trees then they apply equally to our life and our immediate situation.

At the risk of oversimplifying this is what we can get from these two trees. The Tree of Life is Torah, objective knowledge. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is subjective. Ah you might say that both provide knowledge so what’s the difference between them. One adds life while the other diminishes life. How so?

Someone asked me recently what happened to the strong admonishment that “on the day that you will eat from it you will surely die”? Adam did not die that day. He lived for another 930 years. My answer was that death was not man’s destiny until the terrible sin of eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It’s like lighting a candle that now begins to melt. It does not disappear like flash paper and evaporate immediately. Rather it melts slowly. The timer of life has started and the inevitable is death-finiteness.

The Tree of Life is like a school that teaches wisdom in advance of entering a zone of test. It is the test preparation for every situation in life. It requires toiling in study and an abiding trust that the guidance is most reliable. It promises and delivers increasing clarity. That is the advance price to pay for the entering the school, the Yeshiva of Torah Knowledge. It is what the Talmud calls “the long way which is the short way”.

The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil is the opposite. The tuition is free at first. It is the school of hard knocks. It is learning by experience. Sure there are many lessons to learn from our mistakes but they can be costly in terms of times, and life, and health, and relationships.

A person could have saved himself years of hardship and pain and sorrow by simply following the instructions. This is “the short cut which is the long way.” “I’ll figure it all out on my own”. The price is free at first and very costly in the end.

It’s worse than that too because the quality of the knowledge is not increasing clarity but rather greater confusion. It produces a mixed mental baggage of indistinguishably intertwined good and bad. Its waters are muddy and murky rather than lucid and clear. About this the Mishne states, “The older a Talmud scholar gets the more clear his mind becomes while the older an unlearned person becomes the more his mind is torn from him.”

Death may seem like a terrible punishment but the option of living forever in such a confused and sordid state is even worse. It’s actually quite merciful, if you think about it, and even if you don’t think about. It seems those trees are alive and well in the garden where we live.