The Illusion of Jealousy

Parshas Yisro

Posted on January 17, 2014 (5774) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

 “I am HASHEM, your G-d, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage (Shemos 21:2)

Honor your father and mother! (Shemos 21:12)

…You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, his manservant, his maidservant, his ox, his donkey, or whatever belongs to your neighbor.” (Shemos 21:14)

Here we have a sample of three of the Ten Commandments. They were chosen here for discussion because they have something profound in common. We are compelled to find the common denominator even though it may not be so apparent, because of their positioning. The Ten Commandments were not spelled out on one page like a laundry list or a Divine wish list. No, it was organized into two albeit inseparable groups. One side is defining the relationship between man and G-d while the other outlines the major boundaries in our relationships with other people. Therefore, the Ten Commandments are not to be read only from one to ten but in all kinds of directions like a crossword puzzle.

Number one relates not just to number two, but to its companion, number six, the first one on the other column. What does knowing there is HASHEM have to do with the mandate not to kill? You guessed it! Who gives man life? Who breathes a soul of life into his nostrils? Who decides, ultimately, who lives and who dies? If someone understands there is a G-d in, and involved in the affairs of this universe, he will tend to see himself and his fellow as a Divine creature worthy of the highest respect. He will see the G-dliness he knows he possesses in others. The converse is also true. If someone fails to recognize a Creator then it’s not likely he will be able to identify that holy spark in the heart of others and when push comes to shove, what will stop him from committing the worst of crimes!? That was easy enough.

Now we can do this four more times for fun, but we won’t now. What does number five, “Honor your father and mother”, have to do with not coveting, desiring what someone else has?I think that that one is a little harder. Let’s first examine vertically and figure out what number on the first column and number five on the same side have to do with each other. What is the relationship between knowing there’s a G-d and honoring parents?

Here is an approach that maybe helpful. The Ten Commandments are really statements, introductory statements by G-d to humanity. It is actually an orientation to reality. The first large fact of reality, unarguable and non-negotiable given is the HASHEM is and He does! Park the philosophy, curb the skepticism, and accept this primary point, period. Now maybe there is some lost and confused soul on the planet that questions and wonders why his parents are his parents and why he was thrust into this family with these siblings at this time in history? Sounds frighteningly familiar, huh? Well, these are your parents! You inherited your 46 chromosomes from them, with the curly hair and the odd shaped nose and the asymmetrical features. Don’t try to wriggle out from respecting them because you found some small or large fault in their character. This, these are your givens. Welcome to reality. Don’t fight reality! Accept it! Love and embrace and honor it-them!

Now we turn to the tenth commandment! What does it have to do with its near neighbor, number five, honoring parents? Maybe we can extend the same notion and employ the same idea. Don’t covet your neighbor’s house, wife, car etc. That’s what was granted to him! You (we) have to accept reality, his and ours! This is what has been granted to us! Get over it!

Number ten is the final exam on number one! If you believe and accept The Almighty as the ultimate arbiter of good, then the settling of that notion from knowing to understanding to accepting, to embracing that reality can cure the human heart of the illusion of jealousy.

 

 

 

Help – My Life Could Use some Tech Support!

TECH SUPPORT FOR HUMANITY

From the dawn of human creation until history’s Seminal Event at Mount Sinai, people had been steeped with a predicament. When human beings arrived on the world scene, they were given the incomparable gift of their own world-altering potential. True, many other forms of living beings existed before them [we can tackle the questions of how dinosaurs, Neanderthal man, and the Flintstones fit into the picture on another occasion]. But human beings were the first “super computer” creations endowed with the inner “technology” – i.e. freewill – to make moral decisions and wield global impact.

There was just one problem: the great “Super Genius” who created our “technology” gifted it to us without including an instruction manual. Sure, we were programmed with the wherewithal to learn user-friendly applications like “Word” (basic language skills) and “Photoshop” (achievements in Design & the Arts); but frustration began to set in for those who perceived how much the human machine is truly capable of, knowing that we were only tapping into a minute fraction of our potential. After a while, we realized that even our glorious feats in the realms of architecture, commerce, and the arts – while quite wonderful and often crucial as means to more fundamental goals – were not what essential human achievement is really about.

THE 6TH DAY OF CREATION & THE 6TH DAY AT SINAI

Accordingly, the Sinai experience was the crowning day of Creation. In fact, the Torah provides various hints and linguistic cues connecting the 6th day of Creation (the day humans were created) with the 6th day of Sivan (the day the Torah was given). At Mount Sinai, the Creator came out from behind the proverbial mask of nature to reveal once-and-for-all that life has a purpose and that humans have a special mission. He revealed that our essential mission exists in the realms of morality and holiness, and He even taught us “Best Practice” tips we could use to achieve our assignments. He made it known that in order to capitalize on the tremendous gift of human life, each of us is called upon to enthusiastically & sincerely seek out the coveted “Instructions for Living”. May we all be successful in our noble, passionate pursuit!

Have a Wonderful Shabbos! Love, Jon & The Chevra

Appreciation in Times of Pain

Parshas Beshalach

Posted on January 24, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

The people of Israel had a charmed existence in their life in the desert. Unlike us, their descendants, they did not face economic downturns or long lines waiting at the supermarket checkout counter. Their food was delivered to them daily (for the righteous at their doorstep) and a magical well of Miriam sustained their needs for water without bills and taxes and surcharges.

The great clouds of honor protected them from heat and the sun and their clothing was miraculously laundered and cleaned for them. It was the idyllic life. But apparently it wasn’t. The rest of the Torah, including this week’s parsha, is replete with repeated complaints about the food, the water, about everything, about life itself.

Their memories of Egypt become fonder and fonder and their ingratitude towards Moshe and G-d reaches startling proportions. Moshe, the redeemer of Israel and their unquestionably revered leader, is heard to say to G-d in this week’s parsha that he feels his life endangered by the murmurings of dissatisfaction of the people against G-d and him. “Soon they will stone me,” he states.

What happened to their belief in “G-d and in Moshe, His servant?” How did it occur that they could complain about the marvelous situation of security and freedom in which they now found themselves? How can they proclaim that they want to return to Egypt, the country of their oppression and persecution? These questions are very disturbing ones and all of the great Jewish commentators to the Torah have attempted to deal with them.

Though each of the commentators offers a differently nuanced answer to these questions there is a common thread that runs through all of their words and ideas. And that is that human beings are basically dissatisfied creatures. The rabbis taught us that he who has one hundred (million, billion, trillion?) always wishes for two hundred!

The rabbis, therefore, defined wealth in terms of personal satisfaction and gratitude and they regretfully remarked that there are rather few wealthy people present in our world. “Most of the world is poor,” they declaimed, and they were not speaking of material artificially and statically arrived at poverty lines. In fact, the bounty and ease poured unto our ancestors as they left Egypt was meant to teach them that no amount of material well being would ever be enough for them.

There had to be another dimension that had to enter their lives and beings. And that was an intangible one of spirit and holy purpose, of G-dly behavior and gratitude for life itself. It was represented by the Torah that they would receive and accept at Mount Sinai fifty days after their liberation from Egyptian slavery.

For fifty days their ingratitude would be forgivable for they had no other insight into life except the always unsatisfactory material one. After receiving the Torah at Sinai they would now be held to a higher standard of appreciation and thankfulness.

That has been the secret of Jewish resilience and survival throughout many a very bleak physical time. It remains valid and true for our current time as well.

Shabat shalom.

Rabbi Berel Wein

The True Spice of Life

Parshas Beshalach

Posted on February 10, 2017 (5777) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

The layer of dew ascended and behold – it was over the surface of the Wilderness, something thin, exposed- thin as frost on the earth. The Children of Israel saw and said to one another, “Is it Manna?!” for they did not know what it was. (Shemos 16:14-15)

You open your hand and satisfy every living thing with its desire. (Tehillim 145) He gives to each and every person what they quest. Each and every person tasted in the Manna what he wanted… Rabbi Abba stated that he did not even have to request it with his mouth but rather if he just thought in his heart that this is what he desires, the taste was the taste of what he wanted! (Midrash Rabba)

That heaven-sent bread known as Manna that the Jewish People ate for their duration in the desert functioned like a kind of culinary Rorschach test. It tasted just like one wanted it to. All they had to do is think of what wanted and that was the flavor. Someone once famously asked the Chofetz Chaim how the Manna tasted if someone did not think. Something to the effect that, “if a person does not think then how can a thing taste?!” was his spicy response. I often wondered what that might mean.

Years ago I went to visit a friend on a hot summer day. After climbing to his apartment on the top floor he invited me in and offered a cold drink. There he placed a cold can of apple juice. I looked curiously at the Hebrew lettering studying the brand of the drink. “Very odd” I thought as I put the word together…Somech- Feh- Reish- Yud- Nun- Gimel, “SUFFERING?” That name will entice a drinker to happily partake?!  Then I turned the can around and there in English was the name “SPRING”.  Then I recognized my mistake and I also realized that the difference between an experience of SUFFERING and SPRING can be a single point.

I remember vividly from more than thirty five years ago when walking down the long driveway of the Yeshiva one wintery evening I looked up and the sky was filled with huge snowflakes gently gliding to earth. The Street light high above accented the depth of this awesome scene. My visceral reaction, “OY What a huge inconvenience this is gonna be!”

As I continued on my way, coming in the other direction was a young fellow from South Africa, Ben Tzion. He had never seen a single snowflake in his lifetime, till now. He was marching with glee, looking up at the same street light and shouting with radical awe, “MANNA from HEAVEN, MANNA from HEAVEN!”

As we passed each other it occurred to me how snow had lost its innocence with me over time and how darkened my attitude had become. We were both responding to the exact same phenomenon and having completely different experiences.

The son of an old friend who is learning in a nearby Yeshiva came to our house recently on a Shabbos when plenty of snow fell. When I drove him home after Shabbos he was busy telling me how amazing it is that these fragile and individual snowflakes when added together created such a huge effect.

We spoke about how great accomplishments in learning can be achieved with small and steady steps.  I told him about the Penny Harvest we are having in Yeshiva and the statement from the sages, “Each and every penny adds up to a great sum!”

There is so much to learn from snow.  I was thinking this morning  that King David writes, “It is He Who gives snow like fleece (a sheep’s wool coat)  and He scatters frost like ashes” (Tehillim 147) HASHEM will only make it so cold to the degree that the wool coat of the sheep can sustain and protect him protect him from the cold. So too HASHEM gives us challenges in life only to the extent that we can endure them and not more.

King David also writes, “Taste and See HASHEM is good!” (Tehillim 34) Maybe it means that a person could either taste or see that HASHEM is good. Maybe “taste”- Taamu can mean to reason- contemplate and if one invests thought they can then see HASHEM is good!  We joke all the time in our house, “Whoever invented (for example) dates or garlic or cantaloupe or bee honey knew what they were doing!” Tasting HASHEM changes the way we experience everything in life and is it not the true spice of life!

 

Here are a couple of excerpts from other parsha that caught my attention .......

 

The Hebrew word for “bone” is “etzem”. The word “atzmiyus” which describes a person’s sense of self has the same root word. This connection indicates that a person acquires his sense of self, his psychological structure from his father as well. This sense of self comes to a person who can define himself by his parents. A person will approach life with confidence if he has a strong sense of his roots. It is imperative that we identify positive qualities within our parents to which we ourselves can aspire, for having a strong foundation allows for our growth to endure.

 

 

The foundation of genuine love in any relationship is respect. Respect assures that there will not be contempt. Developing the G-dliness within ourselves by imitating Hashem’s ways enables us to elicit the respect which will preserve our relationships. Therefore, the same verse which teaches us how to preserve our relationship with Hashem is also the source of how to maintain our own personal relationships.

Choose Light

Parshas Bo

Posted on January 17, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

What is the worst calamity that can befall a person? What agonies are the most difficult to endure? To find the answer, we need only look at the plagues that afflicted the Egyptians when they refuse to let the Jewish people out of bondage.

The Ten Plagues were designed to break down the stubborn resistance of Pharaoh and the Egyptians. Each successive plague turned up the pressure another notch or two higher, until Pharaoh, no longer bear the pain, finally capitulated. The final and most crushing blow was the death of the firstborn. The runner-up in sheer torture was the ninth plague, which enveloped Egypt in such a dense, palpable darkness that all the people were completely immobilized. The agony of a prisoner in solitary confinement does not compare to the living death that gripped the benighted Egyptians.

While all the Egyptians were trapped in the darkness, life for the Jewish people continued as usual. As with all the other plagues, they were completely impervious to the effects of the catastrophes to which Egypt was being subjected. And yet, the Torah tells us that during the plague of darkness “the Jewish people had light in all their dwelling places.” Why was it necessary to tell us that the Jewish people were unaffected by the darkness? Furthermore, what is the significance of their having light in “their dwelling places”? Surely, they enjoyed light wherever they were.

Earlier in Genesis (28:10), we read that “Jacob departed from Beersheba and went to Harran.” The Midrash observes that the Torah finds it appropriate to mention his point of departure in addition to his destination point. This teaches us that “when a righteous person is in a city he represents its glory, light and beauty, and when he departs, its glory, light and beauty are removed.” What is the significance of this redundant language?

The commentators explain that all too often we do not appreciate what we have until we lose it. When do people realize that the righteous person is the glory of his city? When he departs, and the glory is removed.

In Egypt as well, the Jewish people did not appreciate fully the wonderful gift of light until the plague of darkness struck Egypt. Watching the Egyptians immobilized by the darkness, they were suddenly extremely grateful that they had light to illuminate their lives.

On a more mystical level, the commentators see darkness and light as metaphors for the Egyptian and Jewish cultures. Egyptian society, steeped in superstition, magic and idolatry, was blind to the Presence of the Creator in the world. It was a place of darkness. The plague of darkness tapped into the Egyptian way of life and produced a physical manifestation of the spiritual darkness. And the severity of the plague was clear proof of the extent to which the spiritual light had been extinguished in Egypt. The absence of spirituality immobilizes a person and prevents him from moving forward.

When the Jewish people perceived the spiritual blight of the Egyptians, they recognized the Presence of the Creator in every grain of sand, every blade of grass, and this profound faith illuminated their world. The purity of life in “the Jewish dwellings,” therefore, shone with a transcendent light that reflected the inner spirituality of the Jewish people.

A young student was sitting in the back of the classroom and daydreaming. At the front of the room, the teacher was explaining the intricacies of a difficult subject, but the student paid no attention. He was lost in the faraway world of his imagination.

Suddenly, he heard another student speaking loudly and disrupting the class. The teacher asked the troublemaker to be quiet, but to no avail.

The daydreamer’s interest was piqued. He ears perked up, attuned to every word that transpired in the classroom. He listened to the teacher trying to convey important ideas, and he listened with revulsion as the troublemaker blotted out the teacher’s words with his disrespectful noise.

How foolish I’ve been, thought the daydreamer. My teacher is telling us such important things, and I wasn’t paying attention. Unfortunately, it took the troublemaker’s antics to make me aware of what I was missing.

In our own lives, we sometimes become so caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily life that we lose sight of the deeper truths of life, of a sense of which things that are important, and which are not. But then when we see the extreme degradation of the society in which we live, we are snapped back to reality and regain our innate appreciation for Jewish values and ideals. It is better, of course, never to lose sight in the first place, not to wait for the darkness of others to inspire us to choose light.

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

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

 

Total Control

Parshas Bo

Posted on June 7, 2002 (5760) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

 

 “Come to Pharaoh,” says the Almighty at the beginning of this week’s portion. “For I will harden his heart and the hearts of his servants in order to put my wonders in his midst.”

The concept of a hardened heart, influenced by Divine intervention, is grappled with by countless commentators and myriad meforshim. After all, how do we reconcile a Divinely hardened heart with free-will?

Some explain that Divinity only influenced Pharaoh’s physical resilience, as Hashem did not want to score a definitive knockout in the early rounds. Others discuss how Divine intervention can actually hinder the opportunity of penitence.

All in all, the natural order was changed, and the imposition on Pharaoh’s free-will rarely occurs to the rest of humanity.

What troubles me, however, is the juxtaposition of Hashem’s request that Moshe once again beseech Pharaoh, followed by the words, “because I will harden his heart.”

Aren’t those two separate thoughts? Shouldn’t the command be “go to Pharaoh because I want him to free My people”?

From the word flow it seems that Hashem’s hardening of Pharaoh’s heart was a reason for Moshe to go to Pharaoh. Was it?

A friend of mine told me the following story. Years ago, he visited an amusement park. Among the attractions was a haunted house. It was pitch black inside, save for dim lights that illuminated all types of lurking monsters strategically placed to scare the defiant constituency that dared to enter the domain.

Reading the warnings for park patrons who were either under 12 years old, below a certain height, or suffering high blood pressure or heart disease, my friend hurried his family past the attraction. He only glanced at the almost infinite list of other caveats and exculpatory proclamations from the management. He surely did not want his kids to challenge him to the altar of the outrageous.

Then he noticed the line that was forming. The only life form it contained was tattooed motorcyclists, each more than six feet tall and broadly built.

In spite of the ominous warnings that were posted, they stood anxiously in line waiting to prove their masculinity to themselves and the groups that hurried by the frightening attraction.

But nestled among the miscreants of machismo, he noticed a young boy, no more than seven-years-old, standing on line. He was laughing and giggling as if he were about to ride a carousel.

My friend could not contain himself. Surely, he could not let a young child like that show him up.

“Sonny,” he called to the boy. “Can’t you read? This is a really scary ride. And besides, you’re not even ten!” The boy just laughed. “Why should I be scared?”

“Why should you be scared?” my friend asked incredulously. “This is the scariest ride in the park! It is pitch black in there! You can’t see a thing — except for the monsters!”

The boy’s smile never faded. In fact it broadened. Then he revealed the source of his courage.

“You see the man over there?” He pointed to a middle-age fellow who sat in front of a switch-filled control box.

“Well that’s my dad! If I just give one scream,” exclaimed the child, “all he does is flip one switch and all the lights go on, and the monsters turn into plastic dummies!”

Rav Yecheil Meir Lifschutz of Gustinin explains that Hashem began the final stages of the redemption commanding Moshe, “Go to Pharaoh.” Hashem’s next words were said as the reason to disregard any of Pharaoh’s yelling, shouting, and cavorting. They are totally meaningless, “Because I will harden his heart. I am the one in control. I am the one who hardens hearts and causes tyrants to drive you from their palaces.” With one flip of a heavenly switch they will chase after you in the darkest night and beg you to do the will of the Creator.” So “Go to Pharaoh,” says the Almighty “because I am the one who hardens his heart!”

When faced with challenges, we can approach them with a sense of certainty if we know that there is a higher destiny that steers our fate. We can even walk into the den of a Pharaoh with the confidence of one who knows that it is the Master of Creation who is pulling the switch.

A Matter of Time

Parshas Bo

Posted on January 8, 2008 (5768) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

Egypt reels under a barrage of plagues. Pharaoh’s stubborn resistance is finally crumbling. The Jewish people sense the long-awaited end of their enslavement. Hashem is about to take them out of bondage and forge them into His chosen people, the recipients of His holy Torah. Indeed, even before the final plague is administered to the Egyptians, Hashem already gives them their very first mitzvah as a nation.

So what is this first mitzvah that will cement the nascent relationship between Hashem and our emancipated ancestors whom He has chosen as His own special people? One might have expected an exalted ideal, such as the mitzvah of emunah, faith in Hashem. Or perhaps a mitzvah of personal refinement, such as loving other Jews as oneself. But no. It was the very practical mitzvah of establishing a lunar calendar to regulate the annual cycle of festivals and observances. This is really quite baffling. Why this particular mitzvah? Would it not have been more appropriate perhaps to initiate the Jewish people with a mitzvah that represents transcendent spiritual concepts?

Let us reflect for a moment on one of the more notorious features of our society – the mad rush that characterizes our daily existence. The rhythm of our lives is driven by the tick tock of the clock. Our jobs, our schedules, our appointments, rush hour traffic, all the aspects of our contemporary lifestyles are measured and regulated by the inexorable clock. But this is not really a new phenomenon. The accelerated pace of society has simply highlighted one of the fundamental truths of the world – that the most precious commodity by far is time.

“Time is money!” we are told, but a wise man once turned this adage on its ear and said, “Money is time!” Time, not money, is the fundamental currency by which the value of all things is measured.

Coming out of bondage, the Jewish people were presented with a sudden wealth of time. As slaves, their time had been stripped away from them, but now they got it back. What would they do with this great treasure that was about to fall into their laps?

This crucial question was answered by the mitzvah of establishing the calendar. When designating the new month, the Beth Din declares, “Mekudash, mekudash! Sanctified, sanctified!” Hashem gave the Jewish people the power to sanctify time by what they say and do, not only to give it worth but to imbue it with holiness. Rosh Chodesh, the first day of the new month, has the status of a minor festival, reminding us that we can consecrate all the moments of our lives. By living in a way consistent with Torah values and ideals, we consecrate our time and preserve it for all eternity. This mitzvah, therefore, does indeed represent some of the most transcendent spiritual concepts in the Torah. This mitzvah, delivered with the gift of time, was indeed a most fitting beginning for the special relationship between Hashem and the people He had chosen as His own.

The mitzvah of establishing the calendar also highlights another aspect of time – its cyclical nature. Life, as we know all too well, is an endless procession of ups and downs, with no guarantees as to the outcome. But the eternal existence of the Jewish nation is unconditionally guaranteed by our Creator. The symbol of this guarantee is the lunar cycle which our calendar follows. The Jewish people are compared to the moon. Just as the moon wanes to the point of oblivion but always returns to its fullness, so will the Jewish people always return to their greatness, no matter how far they are driven down by the pressures of exile.

Therefore, the mitzvah of the calendar was doubly appropriate for the time it was given. The Jews were slaves deprived of spirituality and even basic human dignity, a people on the verge of extinction, yet they would once again glow with the brightness of the full moon. They had been mired for centuries at the nadir of human existence, but now Hashem had lifted them up and placed them on the pinnacle of Creation.

A man once visited a great sage.

“How is your life going?” asked the sage, “Spiritually? Materially?”

“Splendid!” said the man. “Everything is excellent. It’s been great for years and years. Couldn’t be better.”

“Life without ups and downs? You are living in a dream world. If you do not know you are down, how do you expect to get up?”

In our own lives, we can also take comfort in the metaphor of the lunar cycle. The flow of time is a harbinger of hope, both for ourselves as individuals and for all of us as a people. But even as we wait for the future, it is within our power to sanctify the present, to give meaning and value to our time by the manner in which we live. We can mold our time into a bridge to an illuminated future.

 

Text Copyright © 2008 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

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

 

 

Belief Comes from Within

Parshas Vaera

Posted on January 10, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

Moshe faces a crisis of faith at the onset of this week’s parsha. He apparently has made no headway with and little impression on the Pharaoh of Egypt. The situation of the Jewish slaves has worsened considerably, and the leaders of the people place blame upon Moshe for that situation.

So, Moshe is apparently unsuccessful with the Pharaoh and unsuccessful with the Jewish people all at one and the same time. Is it any wonder that Moshe complains to the Lord about this mission which, he now reiterates, he wishes to abandon? And even though the Torah does not state so in so many specific words, it is obvious that Moshe, so to speak, is disappointed in G-d as well.

The Lord patiently sends him back to his task and reassures him that all will yet turn out well for him and his people. And by the end of the parsha, we find Moshe in full strength and confidence delivering his message of redemption to Pharaoh and to the Jewish people.

This crisis of faith has somehow passed, though we do not find that Moshe’s earlier concerns have been addressed. The Lord merely reiterates the message that Moshe has already heard from Him a number of times. Yet Moshe is revitalized now that he hears G-d’s promise once again, of Jewish redemption from Egyptian bondage.

Repeated promises rarely if ever inspire. So what causes this change of spirit and attitude within Moshe’s thoughts and actions? What is the catalyst for his new found optimism and boldness of speech and purpose?

I have often felt that it was the very crisis of faith that Moshe endured that was the main contributing factor to his future steadfastness and strength of purpose. Only someone who has experienced doubt can truly come to faith.

The Lord created a world that tests our faith in Him daily. Life automatically introduces doubt into our existence. It is in dealing with our omnipresent doubts, with the unfairness of life itself and with the illogic and irrationality of it all that one achieves the plateau of faith and spiritual strength. Only the doubter can become a strong believer.

It is Moshe’s crisis of faith that now anneals and strengthens his belief in his mission as the savior of Israel from Egyptian bondage. The rabbis stated that, “All things are in the hand of Heaven, except for fear and belief in Heaven itself.” Therefore the Lord, so to speak, does not respond to Moshe’s complaints directly. He does not explain to Moshe why the process of redemption has seemingly taken on such a difficult and negative turn. The Lord makes no excuses for what has occurred. He only tells Moshe to keep on persevering and redemption will eventually arrive.

Moshe has to overcome his crisis of faith on his own. There is no one that can help make one believe except for the person himself. This is probably the most important message that one can derive from the study of this week’s parsha.

Shabat shalom,
Rabbi Berel Wein

 

Faith and Patience

Parshas Vaera

Posted on December 25, 2013 (5774) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

The Lord, so to speak, bemoans to Moshe the lack of faith exhibited by him and the Jewish people during the moments of crisis in their encounter with Pharaoh and their Egyptian taskmasters. G-d points out that the previous generations of the founders of the Jewish people never wavered in their faith and belief that G-d’s covenant would be fulfilled, no matter how harsh the circumstances of their lives were.

And now when the process of redemption from Egyptian slavery is already underway, whenever there is a hitch or a delay or an apparent reversal, the complaint immediately arises against G-d and against Moshe as well. Now the Torah itself clearly makes allowances for this behavior due to the bone- crushing physical work imposed on the Jewish slaves by their Egyptian taskmasters.

It is difficult to be optimistic when one’s back is being whipped. Nevertheless, the Lord’s reproof of Moshe and of Israel is recorded for us in strong terms in the opening verses of this week’s Torah reading. G-d, so to speak, is pointing out to Moshe the existence of a generational disconnect. The previous generations were strong in belief and faith and possessed patience and fortitude in the face of all difficulties.

Moshe’s generation and in fact many Jewish generations throughout history demand action and that action must be immediate. Their faith is conditioned upon seeing and experiencing immediate results and the changed society and world that they desire. Otherwise they are prepared to abandon ship. That is what the prophet means when he chides Israel by saying that “your goodness and faith resemble the clouds of the morning that soon burn off when the sun rises. ”

Faith to be effective has to also be long-lasting. Since mortality limits our vision and naturally makes us impatient it is often difficult for us to see the big picture and witness the unfolding of a long-range historical process. Our generation, unlike those of our predecessors – even our immediate predecessors – has rightly been dubbed the “now generation.” Instant gratification is not only demanded but is expected and when it does not happen our faith is sorely tested, if not even diminished.

Patience and faith is the essence of G-d’s message to Moshe. Part of Moshe’s leadership task will now be to instill this sense of patience and long lasting faith within the psyche and soul of the Jewish people. This daunting task will take forty years of constant challenges and withering experiences before it will see results and accomplishments. At the end of the forty year period – forty years after the Exodus from Egypt – Moshe will proclaim that the Jewish people have finally attained an understanding heart and an appreciation of the historical journey upon which the Lord has sent them.

Both patience and faith are difficult traits to acquire and they remain very fragile even after they have been acquired. But in all areas of human life – marriage, children, professional occupations, business and commerce, government and politics, diplomacy and conflict – patience and faith are the necessary tools to achieve success. That is the message that G-d communicates to Moshe and to Israel in all of its generations and circumstances in this week’s parsha.

Shabat shalom Rabbi Berel Wein

 

 

 

Our Long Term Family Relationship with G-d

Parshas Vaera

Posted on January 12, 2010 (5770) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

The Lord appears to Moshe at the beginning of this week’s parsha with a recounting of His relationship with the fathers of Israel, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov. The Talmud comments that the Lord, so to speak, complained that it is a sadness and loss that those who were once here and alive are no longer so. This is in connection with Moshe’s complaint to G-d that since the beginning of his mission to Pharaoh and to the enslaved Jews things had gotten far worse instead of improving.

The fathers of Israel never complained in such a fashion when faced with their own many tests and challenges. They fully believed in G-d’s promise that all would somehow turn out well for them and their descendants. Avraham and Yitzchak saw the “place from afar” and even though they would first have to undergo the supreme test of the akeidah – the proposed sacrifice of Yitzchak – they also saw “from afar” the Temple and the redemption of Israel that would take place on that very spot of Mount Moriah.

G-d always preaches patience and a long term outlook on events. The rabbis preached that the wise person was one who took the long term view of one’s actions and is cognizant of how the future will view present behavior and ideals.

Moshe’s task in Egypt is not to be fazed by the current rather bleak scene. Rather he himself must be able to see the future which will be better and even more importantly to have the Jewish people share his faith and belief in that better future. Moshe is to be held to the standard of faith of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.

It is interesting to note that G-d appears to Moshe and to the Jewish people always as the G-d of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov and not as the Creator of the universe or other attributes that can be used to identify Him. We Jews imitate that type of description in the Amidah prayers that we recite thrice daily by blessing You, the G-d of Avraham, the God of Yitzchak and the G-d of Yaakov.

Our connection to G-d is through our parents, our ancestors, through the founders of our faith and people. Midrash tells us that the voice that spoke to Moshe at the burning bush sounded in Moshe’s ears and heart as the voice of his father Amram. As long as Jews feel that the voice of their past is speaking to them even now they will yet have a valid connection to G-dliness and holiness.

For so many Jews this ancient and vital chord of memory has been weakened if not even severed.

G-d is therefore no longer a personal presence or factor in their lives. Truly they and we should mourn over “what has been lost and can no longer be found.”

The Lord, so to speak, is the storekeeper who has serviced generations of our family granting them credit and sustenance and we are His latest customers applying for further credit from Him on the basis of our long term family relationship with Him. Truly the past lives within us.

Shabat shalom.

Rabbi Berel Wein