The Root Of Unhappiness

Parshas Ki Savo

Posted on September 2, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Yochanan Zweig | Series: Rabbi Zweig on the Parsha | Level: Intermediate Beginner

 

“Because you did not serve Hashem, your G-d, with happiness and goodness of heart, when you had everything in abundance”(28:47)

 

The Torah attributes all of the horrific curses which will befall Bnei Yisroel to not serving Hashem with happiness. The complaint is not that we will not serve Hashem, rather, although we will serve Him, the stress is upon the fact that it will not be done with happiness. Citing the Zohar, the Ramban teaches that the admonition in this week’s parsha refers to the period of the second Beis Hamikdash through its destruction and the subsequent exile.¹

 

The Talmud states that the second Beis Hamikdash was destroyed because of “sinas chinam” – “baseless hatred”.² This would appear to contradict the reason offered by the Torah, that the destruction was precipitated by Bnei Yisroel’s not serving Hashem with happiness. How do we reconcile this contradiction?

 

The Torah attests to the fact that we were unhappy, even though we had everything. This is mirrored by the contemporary phenomena which finds a high percentage of depressed and disenchanted people to be those who enjoy success and high social standing. Why do people who apparently have everything that life has to offer, still exhibit a lack of happiness?

 

A person can only be truly happy if he appreciates what Hashem has given him. However, if a person is egocentric, considering himself deserved of all that he has, he will not be content by that which is already his; rather, he will be focused on those things which are not yet his, but to which he feels entitled. If a person goes through life with the attitude that everyone owes him, he will constantly be miserable, never satisfied with what he has. Furthermore, since he feels he is entitled to everything that he desires, a person who has something he desires becomes an immediate threat to him. He begins loathing that person for no reason other than the perception he maintains that that person is withholding from him an object which should rightfully be his. It is this type of loathing that the Talmud defines as baseless hatred.

 

Consequently, baseless hatred can be traced back at its inception to our lack of appreciation for what Hashem has done and continues to do for us. Therefore, sinas chinam is not a different reason than the reason offered by the Torah as to what precipitated the destruction of the Temple; it is a manifestation of being unhappy when serving Hashem.

 

Double Standards

Parshas Ki Seitzei

Posted on August 18, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

Dishonesty is an affront to Heaven and mankind. It is a violation of the divine will, a transgression of the most basic standards of morality. The Torah places tremendous emphasis on honesty, especially in business transactions and consistently demands that we deal with integrity and fairness and never cheat another person.

In this week’s portion specifically, the Torah enjoins us, “Do not keep two different measures in your house, one large and one small . . . keep a whole and just measure.” Obviously, the Torah is legislating against merchants cheating their customers. But the question immediately arises: Why would a dishonest merchant keep two sets of measures, one true and one false? Why wouldn’t he simply use the false measure at all times?

Furthermore, immediately following these commandments, the Torah enjoins us never to forget the treachery of Amalek when they attacked the Jewish people emerging from Egypt. What is the correlation between these two sets of commandments?

The commentators explain that the Torah is giving us a metaphor which applies to many aspects of our lives. Unfortunately, it is very common in our day-to-day activities to apply a double standard, one for ourselves and one for everyone else. From others, we are inclined to demand a high standard of behavior, but when we find ourselves in a similar situation we tend to rationalize and equivocate and find some way to allow ourselves that which we would deny to others.

“Do not keep two sets of measures,” the Torah tells us, for by doing so we not only deceive others but also ourselves. Living by a double standard forces us to sacrifice our integrity, to lie to ourselves, to infuse our lives with chronic dishonesty. Rather, the Torah tells us, we must “keep a whole and just measure.” We must live our own lives and view others with the same whole and consistent measure, for a justice that is not universal is not justice at all.

This then is the correlation to the attack of Amalek. As the Torah relates, Amalek’s attack was treacherous, preying on the straggles who fell behind the main body of the people. They did not meet the Jewish people head on with bravery and courage as did their other enemies. But the Amalekites themselves would certainly have disdained an enemy who stooped to such shabby tactics, and yet they did not hesitate to use those selfsame tactics to further their own ends. This is the essence of evil, and it must never be forgotten.

A man was sitting in shul on Yom Kippur, wrapped in his tallis and swaying back and forth. He was completely absorbed in his prayers, and from time to time, a sigh or a groan escaped his lips.

Presently, a young boy came to join his father, who was sitting beside the man praying so fervently. In order to get to his father, the boy had to squeeze by his neighbor and unintentionally jostled his shoulder.

The man flung the tallis off his head and turned on the boy in fury. “What is the matter with you?” he snapped. “Don’t you have respect for your elders? Can’t you see there’s a person sitting here?”

The young boy flushed crimson and ran off to his mother.

“Tell me, my friend,” said the boy’s father. “Didn’t you just say in the Shemoneh Esrei that you are an empty vessel full of shame? How could you do that to a child if you really consider yourself a nothing?”

“A nothing?” the man sputtered. “Me, a nothing? Maybe to Hashem I’m a nothing, but I am certainly something to everyone else.”

In our own lives, it is almost impossible to avoid situations which call for a double standard. For instance, how often have we reprimanded our children for all sorts of transgressions of which we ourselves are also guilty behind closed doors? Of course, it is easy to rationalize and say that we want our children to have better standard than we do. But it is not honest, and in the end, it is bound to fail. Better and wiser would be for us to listen closely to the words we speak to our children. If they have the ring of truth then perhaps we would better served to apply to ourselves as well.

Text Copyright © 2006 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

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

Family Friction

Parshas Ki Seitzei

This week’s Torah portion deals with many different issues of human behavior and family relations. We are all aware that the relationships between parents and children, as well as between other relatives in the same family are often difficult ones and fraught with potential danger, frustration and even tragedy. People within a family are very capable of disliking and even hating one another despite their biological and social connection. This is because in the basic family structure there exists a bond of love between the members of the family that is natural and quite strong. And any time strong love is present, the possibility of strong hate always lurks in the background.

Precisely because children love their parents, they feel justified in holding them to unrealistic standards of behavior and attitude. And since parents often fall short of such absolute perfection, the resentment towards them can become so great as to lead to awful family disputes. Hard statistics reveal that most murders occur between perpetrators and victims who are related or know each other well. These family members have experienced disappointment and often complain of severe mistreatment.

There are many current theories as to how to properly raise children and create tranquility and harmony within the family unit. But, as is true in almost all areas of life, one size does not fit all, and it is difficult to fit each separate case into any general rule. Because of this, it is obvious that every family must sort through relationships and affairs individually. Very rarely if ever can any outside source, no matter how wise or professional, solve the problems and workings of the family unit.

From the narrative that appears regarding the rebellious son – a narrative that according to one opinion in the Talmud is to be treated only as a metaphor – it is clear that we are being taught that there are instances when no logical or rational solution is present or possible. It is difficult for us in our time, when we have unlocked so many doors regarding the mysteries of science, technology and medicine to have to admit that there are basic human problems that exist within family relationships that we are powerless to solve on our own.

Later in the Torah we will read that that there are many hidden things in human life that only Heaven can deal with. We can only do the best that we can, to the extent that we are physically, emotionally and intellectually able. There is no question that this limitation upon our omnipotence is very frustrating especially to modern humans who believe that they are capable of everything.

By realizing that paradoxically we can accomplish more than we thought possible in times of difficulty, eventually we know that we must rely upon the G-d that infuses us with life, to help us solve all difficult situations and to accept G-d’s will.

Shabbat shalom
Rabbi Berel Wein

 

 

 

All that Glitters is Not Gold

Parshas Shoftim

Posted on September 5, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

When the Torah tells us two things in practically the same breath, we can be sure that they are very closely related. Yet sometimes the connection is somewhat obscure, and we are completely dependent on the guidance of the Talmud to enlighten us.

 

In this week’s Torah reading, we are instructed to appoint judges of the highest integrity, people who are honest, upright and unwavering, people who would never consider taking bribes or otherwise corrupting the process of justice. Side by side with these laws is the prohibition against planting an asheirah tree, a species commonly worshipped in the pagan societies of the Near East.

 

What is the connection between these two apparently unrelated topics?

The Talmud tells us that the appointment of an unworthy judge is comparable to planting an asheirah tree.

 

Illuminating but not completely enlightening. The corruption of justice and idolatrous practices are both unarguably very grave transgressions, but how are they related to each other? What specific kinship places them on a common ground?

 

The commentators explain that the asheirah tree has marvelous natural beauty, as do all the other trees the Creator implanted in this world. But through their idolatrous practices, people have transformed this thing of pristine beauty into an abomination. Although the asheirah tree still retains its enchanting exterior, its very essence has been corrupted, and therefore, it is forbidden to plant such a tree. The Torah compares people to “the trees in the field.” People are also dominant and exceptionally beautiful fixtures on the natural landscape of the world. Some of them, endowed with special talents and abilities, are even more outstanding. They exude an aura of wisdom and integrity that seem to make them ideal choices to serve as the magistrates of society.

 

Beware, warns the Torah. Do not be taken in by exterior appearances. This seemingly ideal candidate for judicial office may be nothing more than an asheirah tree. If he is guilty of the slightest bribery or any other subversion of perfect justice, he has become an abomination, and all his cleverness, wisdom and charisma mean nothing.

 

A king was seeking a suitable candidate for a ministerial office which had become vacant. He invited a number of promising government officials to his palace for a conference on the pressing problems facing that ministry. The most knowledge official would be offered the post.

The king prepared a royal table for his guests, with the finest foods and beverages and an assortment of exotic fruits which could not be found anywhere else in the realm.

 

At the conference, one official in particular stood out among all the rest. He was a highly personable man who spoke with eloquence, wisdom and wit. His grasp of the issues and problems was exceptional, and the solutions he offered were clever and insightful. After an hour, it seemed a forgone conclusion that he would be chosen, but to everyone’s surprise, the king chose another man.

The disappointed candidate approached the king. “Your majesty, why was I passed over for the post? Am I not the most qualified by far?” “Take out what you have in your right pocket,” said the king.

The man flushed crimson. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a persimmon. “Your majesty, for such a minor matter I lost the post?” he said. “It is nothing but a tiny fruit that I wanted to take home to my family.”

 

“It is indeed a very minor thing,” said the king. “And if you had asked, I would surely have given you a basketful to take home. But when I saw you slip that persimmon into your pocket I knew I could never trust you.”

 

In our own lives, we are all impressed by the glittering people we encounter, people who sparkle with personality, wisdom, talent and extraordinary accomplishment. But those are not necessarily the best people. We wouldn’t buy a car without taking a good look under the hood. In the same way, we should not invest admiration in these glitterati without asking ourselves if there is true goodness behind the façade, if there is kindness, humility and integrity. Those are the qualities we should admire and emulate. Those are the qualities that will make us better people.

 

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

 

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

 

Left and Right

Parshas Shoftim

Posted on August 11, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

 

LEFT, RIGHT & THE POLITICS OF MISCONSTRUCTION

In an era when political opinions are so clearly aggrandized — one is pigeonholed as liberal or conservative, a rightist or leftist — this week’s portion shines a new perspective on right and wrong, and even left and right.

 

In describing the importance of following the advice of our sages, the Torah uses an interesting expression. “Do not stray from the path of their counsel, neither to the left or to the right.” The Talmud espouses the faith we are to have in the wisdom of the sages by explaining: “Even if they tell you that left is right and right is left, and surely when they tell you that right is right and left is left.”

 

I was always puzzled by the interpretation. Theological insights into events are subject to interpretations as varied as the eye-colors of the viewers. Even rabbinical conjectures can be objectively understood from varied perspectives and lifestyles. But direction? How can we misconstrue directional accuracy? Either something is right or it is left.

 

Back in the old country, a notorious miser was castigated by members of his community, for his lack of involvement in charitable endeavors. He was urged to begin inviting the poor to his home. He was even advised of how good the mitzvah would make him feel.

 

Reluctantly, the next Friday afternoon he gave his son a few coins and told him to buy the cheapest piece of fish. He warned him not to spend more than an amount that would buy the lowest quality fish. He also cautioned him to buy it just before the shop was to close for the Sabbath when the price was sure to be at it’s lowest. He was not to worry about freshness or appearance, just size and price. The son did exactly as he was told and brought back an excellent bargain: a large fish, thoroughly rancid.

 

Pleased with his purchase, the miser went to synagogue that evening and was proud to invite a pauper to his home. For the first time in memory he had a stranger actually eat with him. True to what he had been told, he really did feel wonderful. The beggar didn’t. His weak stomach could not take the putrid fish and he became seriously ill.

 

That Monday, the miser went with his son to visit the ailing beggar in the community ward of the local hospital. When the poor soul died of food poisoning, he proudly attended the funeral. He even paid his respects to the relatives who sat shiva at their hovel.

 

Upon leaving the home of the mourners, the miser remarked proudly to his son, “Isn’t it wonderful that we got involved with this beggar? Look how many mitzvos we have already performed. And it didn’t even cost us more than a few pennies!”

 

Often, perceptions of right and wrong are discerned, formulated, and executed according to a warped sense of justice. Personal perspectives, attitudes, and experiences greatly influence our Torah-values and attitudes. Political correctness often hampers proper rebuke. Is it that we would not want to offend an overt transgressor or do we just not want to get involved? Does overzealous rebuke stem from our concern for the word of Hashem? Or are we just upset at the individual because we have a debt to settle with him?

 

When we see a definitive right and left, perhaps we are looking from the wrong angle. It may very well be that our right is the Torah’s left, and the same is true of the reverse.

We are told to follow our sages whether they tell us that right is left and left is right. In a confusing world, they may be the only ones who really know which way is east.

 

Dedicated in memory of Jesse Chatzinoff by Mr. and Mrs. Peter Chatzinoff

Mordechai Kamenetzky – Yeshiva of South Shore

Good Shabbos

 

 

Improve Your Eyesight

Parshas Reeh

Posted on August 13, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

To Moshe, life choices are clear and self-evident. He tells the Jewish people to merely look, and they will see the difference between life and death, good and evil, eternity and time-burdened irrelevance. He implores the Jewish people to use their common sense, to pay attention to the experiences over the past 40 years in the desert, and their story. Then, they will be able to clearly see their choices in life, and what basic decisions they must make regarding what should be visible and obvious to them.

 

Yet, we know that even when people are aware of the consequences of their behavior, when, so to speak, they actually do see the differences and choices that lie before them, they will often choose to sin and take the wrong turn in life. People know that all addictive drugs and immoral behavior inevitably lead to personal disaster. The evidence for this is so abundant that all of us know cases and people that somehow willingly and even voluntarily choose this path of self-destruction. None of this holds people back from themselves.

 

The story is told about a man who was becoming an alcoholic, who was taken by his children to visit skid row where the victims of alcoholism reside on the street in their drunken stupor. One of the drunks was wallowing in the gutter amidst the filth that permeated the area. His children – those of the potential alcoholic – said to him: “Father don’t you see where excessive drinking will lead you?” However, the man went over to the drunk in the gutter and whispered to him: “Where did you get such good and powerful whiskey?” We always see what we want to see.

 

What is perfectly obvious to the sane and rational mind, is not seen by one captured by the evil instinct, affected by social pressure, and suffering from a lack of self-discipline.

All parents and educators know you may lead someone to a fountain of fresh water, but you cannot make that person drink from it, unless the person wishes to do so. It is hard to convince people to see what they do not want to see, and to believe what they do not wish to believe. All the exhortations of the prophets of Israel were of little avail in the times of the first Temple, simply because the people refused to see the obvious consequences of idol worship, and the abandonment of Torah and its teachings.

 

The only hope for parents and educators is to improve the eyesight, so to speak, of their children and students, so that those individuals themselves will be able to perceive the clear difference between life and death, right and wrong. This is a slow and painful process, but with persistence it can be successful and lifesaving. Good eyesight requires tenacity of focus as well as excellent peripheral vision. Jewish tradition and Torah values within both the family and society help provide the good vision which enables productive choices, that will lead to eternal life and goodness.

 

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

Seeing Clearly

Parshas Reeh

Posted on August 17, 2012 (5772) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

In this week’s parsha the Torah continues with the theme that runs through the previous parshiyot of Dvarim, that we are always faced with stark choices in life – either blessings or curses, good or evil. The words of the Torah seemingly offer little option for middle ground on these basic issues of belief and behavior. Yet, we are all aware that the events in life are rarely, if ever, all or nothing, one hundred percent blessing or curse. In fact, Jewish tradition and teachings instruct us that hidden in tragedy there is always a glimmer of hope and goodness, and that all joy and happiness contains within it the taste of the bittersweet.

 

Jewish philosophy and theology has taught us that evil somehow has a place in God’s good and benign world. We are faced with the problem of why the Torah addresses these matters without nuance, in such a harsh way which seemingly brooks no compromise, without a hint of a middle ground. After all, the Torah is not a debating society where one is forced to take an extreme uncompromising stand in order to focus the issue being discussed more sharply and definitively.

 

Many rabbinic scholars of previous generations have maintained that it is only in our imperfect, post Temple period that we are to search for good in evil and temper our joy with feelings of seriousness and even sadness. But in the ideal and idyllic world, where the Divine Spirit is a palpable entity, the choices are really stark and the divisions are 100 percent to zero.

 

Far be it from me to not accept the opinion of these great scholars of Israel. However I wish to interject a somewhat different thought into this matter. This parsha begins with the word re’eih – see. As all of us are well aware, there are stages in life that we can see well only with the aid of corrective lenses. Without that correction, we can easily make grave mistakes trying to read and see what appears before us.

 

If we have to read small print, such as looking up a number in the Jerusalem telephone directly – it is almost impossible without the aid of corrective lenses. Well, this situation is not limited to the physical world, of just our actual eyesight, but it applies equally to our spiritual world of Torah observance and personal morality.

 

Many times we think we are behaving righteously when we are in fact behaving badly because we are not seeing the matter correctly. We are not wearing our corrective lenses, with the benefit of halacha, history, good common sense and a Jewish value system that should govern our lives. Without this advantage, we see blessings and curses, good and evil, all blurry and undefined before our eyes.

 

The Torah wishes us to see clearly – to instinctively be able to recognize what is the blessing in our life and what is not. The Torah itself has been kind enough to provide us with the necessary corrective lenses to see clearly and accurately. These lenses consist of observance of Torah and its commandments and loyalty to Jewish values and traditions.

 

Shabat shalom,

Rabbi Berel Wein

 Pleasures and Lusts

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?

 

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.