Saturday, June 25, 2022

 

Hard Choices

Parshas Shlach

Posted on June 22, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

The vast Jewish encampment stands at the edge of the desert on the threshold of Canaan. It is a time of incredible excitement. After centuries of bondage in Egypt, the Jewish people are finally returning as a nation to their ancestral homeland. They know that Hashem has promised them the land, but they also know they will have to fight a war of conquest. They choose twelve outstanding men, one from each tribe, and send them off to reconnaissance the land before they invade. The results of this ill-fated expedition are disastrous, to say the least.

 

The spies deliberately slant their reconnaissance reports to sow fear and despair among the people. The generation of the Exodus loses its chance to enter the Holy Land and is doomed to remain in the desert for forty years. Moreover, as our Sages tells us, because of the betrayal and subversion of the Meraglim, the night of their return, the ninth of Av, becomes an occasion of national mourning for all time.

 

How could such a thing happen? Was it a mistake to send the spies?

The Torah tells us that the Jewish people asked Moses to send the spies, and as always, Moses presented the question to Hashem.

 

“Shelach lecha,” Hashem replied. “Send for yourself.”

 

What did Hashem mean by “send for yourself”? Rashi explains that, in effect, Hashem was saying, “You decide. Send them if you so choose, but I am not instructing you to send them. I leave it completely to your discretion.”

 

Many questions immediately come to mind: Why did Hashem refrain from giving Moses specific instructions regarding how to proceed? Why didn’t Hashem spare the Jewish people all this grief by simply instructing Moses not to send the spies?

 

Furthermore, since Hashem specifically declined to endorse the reconnaissance plan, why did Moses choose to go ahead with it anyway? Why didn’t he let the whole thing go, just to be on the safe side?

 

The answers to these perplexing questions derive from one of the fundamental aspects of Judaism. We all know how difficult it is to cope with the temptations and challenges of life, and it would certainly be easy to deal with it by withdrawing into a monastic life of sheltered meditation. But that is not what we are meant to do. The Torah teaches us to live spiritually at the very center of civilization. It teaches us not to run away but to face the issues squarely and make the hard choices.

As long as the Jewish people were in the desert, they lived in a spiritual cocoon, shielded from the choices of everyday existence. Their food, water and clothing were miraculously provided, nor did they engage in commerce or agriculture. But all this was part of the process of preparation for their entry into the real world where they would face the hard choices. In the desert, the bread falling from heaven conditioned to the concepts of faith and trust in Hashem, but the ultimate goal was to carry this faith forward to a time when bread would grow from the ground. This was their national destiny.

 

As they stood on the threshold of Canaan, this time had come. Soon they would inherit the land and begin the daunting task of building a functioning society built on faith in Heaven and Torah values and ideals. It was time to begin making the hard choices.

 

When Hashem told him to decide on his own if he should send spies to Canaan, Moses realized that Hashem, far from expressing divine disapproval, was actually presenting the Jewish people with their first opportunity to make their own choice. From the point of their very entry, Hashem was telling them, would already be allowed to choose. Moses chose to send the spies. But now the choice shifted to the spies themselves, and tragically, almost all of them chose poorly.

 

In our own lives, we are bombarded with myriad choices. The media and technology bring the temptations and blandishments of contemporary culture into the innermost privacy of our homes, making every day a never-ending struggle to maintain our sanity and morals. How can we preserve our ideals and values for ourselves and our children in such an environment? It can only be done if we see beyond the glitter and hype that surrounds us, if we reach into our reservoirs of faith and recognize the hand of Hashem guiding us – as it always has and as it always will.

 

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

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

 

Saturday, June 18, 2022

 

 

A Manna of Perspective

Parshas Behaaloscha

Posted on June 17, 2022 (5782) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

G-d blessed the Jewish people with the miraculous Manna to collect each morning as they traveled and camped in the desert. Most, of course, were grateful for this daily sustenance, literally a gift from Heaven, but many of them complained. “If only we had meat! We remember the fish we had in Egypt, the vegetables, and the melons.. All we see now is Manna!”

 

The verse that follows (Bamidbar 11:7) their gripe makes an unusual pivot, lauding the uniqueness of the Manna: “The manna was like coriander seed, it looked like crystal. It tasted like cake, kneaded with oil, and it would fall every night with the dew. “Why does the narrative suddenly shift from the complaints against the Manna, to a detailed description of its qualities?

 

Doris and Beatrice rocked back and forth outside the retirement home, chatting about their newlywed children. “Doris! Don’t get me started about my son, Brian. His new wife Amy is so needy. Every day he has to call her from work, to check up on her. When he gets home, he does whatever he can to please her. He offers her fruits, snacks. Then he has to entertain her and sit with her the whole evening, listening to her babble on, keeping her busy with board games and walks. He never gets a break! But, enough about my troubles.. Doris, how is your daughter Ellen doing?” “Oh, I’m so happy you asked, Beatrice. Ellen’s dear husband, David, is so considerate – an angel! Every day he calls from work to see how she’s doing, and when he gets home he only wants to please her. He offers her fruit, goes for long walks, plays board games… she is so blessed!”

 

Rashi (the classic medieval commentary of Rav Shlomo Yitzchaki zt”l) explains the changing narrative: The Jewish people complained, “All we see is Manna!” However, at the same time they were complaining, G-d bemoaned the incident saying, “People of the world! Look at what my children are complaining about… The Manna was really so special. It was like coriander seeds, crystal…”

 

What allows people to get frustrated and complain when things don’t go their way? Most often it stems from a lack of perspective. If we take a moment to contemplate the blessings we have, we can see our life in the proper context. How could people blessed with Manna from heaven, desire a return to Egypt to eat fish and melons? Only because they ignored the blessings of the unique gift they were given.

 

If only G-d’s call, “See what my children are complaining about…” would ring in our ears, if we’d take the time to see in full perspective what we’re complaining about, the bountiful blessings would break through the negativity, and transform our thinking to gratitude, contentment and joy. (Based on Sefer Atara L’Melech, Rav Avraham Pam zt”l).

 Encouragement!

Parshas Behaaloscha

Posted on June 16, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

HASHEM said to Moshe saying, “Speak to Aaron and say to him: When you “light-up” the lamps, toward the face of the Menorah shall the seven lamps cast light.” Aaron did so- (Bamidbar 8:1-2)

Aaron did so: To tell the praise of Aaron that he did not change. (Rashi)

 

What’s so great that Aaron lit the lights? Anybody could do that! Why would he do differently than what he understood perfectly what HASHEM had instructed him to do? If any one of us understood with that level of clarity what it was that HASHEM wants us to do, would we, could we do otherwise?! So, what’s the great praise about? He did what he was supposed to do!

 

Now it is occurring to me that it is not only we who are hearing about the praise of Aaron for not having deviated from HASHEM’s instructions, but it is in order to praise Aaron for not changing, to tell the praise of Aaron to Aaron. Aaron is being praised for doing the right thing. How does that help? It helps a lot!

 

I was shown at a Shiva call just last night a moving video clip of my good friend Shimi who just passed away. There he is in a hospital room in Israel, hooked up to wires and looking frail. A troubadour of musicians with guitars are serenading him.

He’s singing along and at one point he even stands up and with great effort begins dancing with them. Then he starts to tell them what a great thing they are doing by coming and performing for him.

 

“Doctors are prescribing all kinds of medicine that we hope will be effective, but this is the best medicine of all that you are doing here for me today.” He continues to heap praise on them and thank them in multiple ways, and he tells them that he is having this little Chizuk session videoed so he can send it to their families so they can see how much good they are doing.

They were coming to give him courage and strength and he was feeding them. It was truly amazing! He was truly amazing!

 

He recognized that everybody needs encouragement, even people who know that what they are doing is the right thing. Why not!?

 

The guy sweeping the floor needs encouragement. The gabbai of the Shul needs encouragement! Teachers need encouragement. Doctors need encouragement. Principals need encouragement. Husbands need encouragement. Wives need encouragement. Parents need encouragement. Kids need encouragement. The Rav of the community needs encouragement. Elderly people need encouragement. The mailman needs encouragement. The grocer needs encouragement. The Baal Koreh needs encouragement. The cab driver needs encouragement. Everybody needs encouragement! Even Aaron HaKohain needs encouragement.

 

Aaron had been involved incidentally and tangentially in the Chet HaEgel (the sin of the Golden Calf) and he was feeling embarrassed by all the pomp and pageantry involved with the inauguration of the Mishkan. He was assuming that he was excluded because of his association with that cosmic- national disaster.

 

When he was called upon to light the Menorah, which would be the crowning event, he felt woefully unworthy and he was ready to hide behind his deep sense of shame and excuse himself with good reason. “I am not worthy of such an honor.” “And Aaron did so…” He did what he was commanded to do. It was not a small thing and HASHEM, Who reads the heart of men, let Aaron know that, it wasn’t easy but he did the right thing. Even people who know they are doing the right thing need words of encouragement. Certainly, people who have doubts about themselves need encouragement.

 

I saw a phrase like this and I believe it describes all of us; “I can be both a masterpiece and a work in progress!” The “masterpiece” part of us is need of being recognized. We cannot demand that attention but since we recognize the need, we might as well identify it in others. The “work in progress” part of us is in constant need of encouragement. We cannot command it, but since we recognize the need, we might as well give as much as we can to others, encouragement!

 


The Flame of Independence

Parshas Behaaloscha

Posted on June 17, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

One of the tasks of the Priests in the Tabernacle and in the Temple was the rekindling of the great Candelabra on a daily basis. We are taught in this week’s Torah reading that the Priest had to keep the flame, with which he was lighting the wicks of the lamps, next to those wicks until the lamp wick caught hold and was able to burn by itself. Over the ages, this has become the metaphor for Jewish parenting – for Jewish education itself. The parent or the teacher is responsible for the child or the student, just as the Priest was responsible for the wicks until they were lit.

 

The task of the parent/teacher is that the child/student will sustain himself or herself spiritually, socially, financially, and psychologically, after having been given the necessary life tools. I was a child at a time when children were considered adults by the time they reached puberty and their teenage years. However, in our more modern era childhood extends far beyond even the teenage years. Many children and students do not achieve any sort of true independence until they are well into their twenties, and sometimes even later than that.

 

The question then arises: is the responsibility of the parent/teacher open ended, i.e., does it remain, no matter how long it takes for the child or the student to truly become independent? Is the parent/teacher still on the hook, so to speak, to provide aid, sustenance, financial support and means for survival? Since it is not clear to us when the flame of independence and self-sufficiency is truly able to burn on its own, there arises a situation where the obligations of the parent, the educational system and even of society generally appears to remain unlimited. This type of dependency eventually becomes self-destructive, and certainly cannot be what the Torah had in mind for the Jewish family and the Jewish society.

 

The goal of parenting and of education is to produce people who are well-balanced, to provide their child/student – the next generation, with the necessary tools for self-reliance and independence of thought and action. There is a window of time for such an opportunity. In my opinion, that window closes quickly as time progresses. The options remaining in life for someone in their 30s or 40s are far fewer than the options that existed when they were in their 20’s.

 

Keeping the outside flame on the wick of the lamp of the candelabra for too long does not enhance the flame nor will it light the candelabra. Rather, it creates a situation of danger, containing too much fire, and is counterproductive in its purpose of lighting the lamps of the candelabra itself. So, too, a wise parent and/or a devoted teacher will eventually see the productivity of removing that outside fire and letting the wick burn on its own, to radiate its own life. Every human being is unique and holy. Every human being is entitled to its own lamp and light.

 

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

Saturday, June 11, 2022

 

A Powerful Lesson in True Humilty

Parshas Naso

Posted on June 13, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

The Kohen shall bring her near and have her stand before HASHEM. The Kohen shall take sacred water in an earthenware vessel, and the Kohen shall take from the (APHAR) dust that is on the floor of the Tabernacle and put it in the water… (Bamidbar 5:16-17)

The Midrash is puzzled why APHAR- dust is invited as part of the Sotah solution. The answer that is given is that in the merit of Avraham Avinu when he was praying on behalf of Sodom he referred to himself as “APHAR v AIFER – DUST and ASHES”!

 

OK but how is that an answer? What’s the connection between his declaration and the requirement of this unfaithful woman to be offered to drink water with dust from the floor of the Temple?

 

Obviously Avraham Avinu was adopting a posture of extreme humility when praying to HASHEM and interceding on behalf of Sodom. How else can one approach The Creator of the Universe?! It’s an exercise in ultimate humility, a finite creature standing before an Infinite Being! This portrait of Avraham’s self-effacement and absolute nullification remains etched for all time as the definitive portrait of humility.

 

I am afraid though that we may have a wrong impression of what true humility is if we view this scene too quickly and superficially. I saw a phrase that might illuminate the topic, “Humility is not thinking less of your-self. It’s thinking less about your-self.” Is that not the exact description of what Avraham Avinu was doing here?

 

This aligns with the famous statement from the Kotzker Rebbe. A person should have two pieces of paper. One is each of two pockets. On one piece of paper the words from the Mishne in Sanheidrin should be inscribed, “A person has an obligation to say, ‘The whole world was created for me!’”

 

On the other piece of paper the words of Avraham Avinu should be written, “I am dust and ashes!” The trick is to know when to take out which piece of paper!

 

Avraham Avinu was hoping to change the mind of The Almighty! He did not consider him-self completely unworthy. How else can one have the temerity to countermand G-d!? It seems he understood very well the import of his position in the world. Obviously Avraham, in all his humility, was not thinking too little about him-self!

 

 

It’s very clear that Avraham was not thinking about him-self. Just the opposite! All that he is depicted doing is for the sake of the people of Sodom. He was not asking for anything for him-self.

 

When he was called upon to deliver his beloved son Yitzchok as a Korbon he did not whisper a word of protest. For the people of Sodom, Avraham Avinu carried on as a defense attorney before a strict judge to protect a community he knew was guilty of many crimes. Avraham thought enough of him-self, to have the courage to face off with HASHEM, and at the same time he though not about him-self at all, but only about the welfare of others. That’s the real portrait of humility.

 

Now let us apply this same standard to the other side of the equation, the Sotah. The woman who allowed her-self to be lured by the seductive sirens of temptation and indulgence was either not considering or was underestimating the import and impact of her actions, which are serious and severe. She obviously thought too little of herself.

 

At the same time she was thinking only about herself! She engaged in an act of ultimate selfishness! Rather her behavior betrays qualities that demonstrate just the opposite of true humility. Perhaps that’s why, now she is forced to digest APHAR- dust, as a strong reminder of and a powerful lesson in true humility.

 

A Life Saving Lesson

Parshas Naso

Posted on May 24, 2018 (5778) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

Why is the Subject of the Nazir juxtaposed to the subject of the Sota? To teach you that anyone who sees a Sotah in her destruction should refrain from wine. -(Rashi)

There’s a glaring question in this statement of Rashi. With a little information, it will become apparent. A Nazir is someone who goes on a specific 30 day spiritual diet to “detoxify” himself.

 

The situation involving a Sotah is one which arises when a husband suspects and formally investigates whether his wife has placed herself in a position of impropriety. When a doubt still lingers over whether there was actually an act of infidelity, she is offered a sort of truth serum to resolve the doubt. If she drinks the Sotah water and is found innocent, then she is promised a blessing of children. If, however she drinks it and she is in violation, then she swells up and dies.

 

Let’s say you saw a friend drive up to a certain non-kosher drive-thru window and buy himself a DOUBLE CHEESE WHOPPER AND A MILK SHAKE! He then surreptitiously pulls his car to the side and (without a blessing) opens his mouth wide to take the first bite. You watch in amazement as a dark rain cloud gathers spontaneously as if it had a mind and mission of its own. As your friend begins to sink in his teeth…WHAM! A bolt of lightning is launched from the cloud leaving him and his whopper a charred piece of toast.

 

Are you now more or less committed to the discipline of keeping kosher? The fright of that experience is enough to put a pause before eating anything of doubtful kosher status. The lesson could not have been taught more clearly. Why then if someone witnesses the Sotah in her hour of doom, do they then need a spiritual realignment? After all, he’s seen “the hand of G-d” in action. Why should he of all people become a Nazir? He is the last one that needs to take on this regimen.

 

Reb Levi Yitzchok from Berditchov tzl. had been working on himself, in a private setting, trying to overcome some challenge, on whatever high level he was struggling, when he resigned to accept that it was just not possible for him to change.

 

Immediately afterward he stepped out into the street where he witnessed an argument between a wagon driver and a store owner. The store owner wanted the wagon driver to unload the goods into his store. The driver insisted, “I can’t!” The store owner barked back. “It’s not that you can’t! It’s that you don’t want to!” The fight went on like this with ever increasing intensity, “I can’t!” “It’s not that you can’t! It’s that you don’t want to!” Then a surprise!

 

The store owner quietly reached into his pocket and waved a few bills and said, “What if I offered you 50 Zlotas? Would you be able to?” The wagon driver answered soberly, “I’ll give it try.” Reb Levi Yitzchok marveled that the wagon driver was indeed then quite capable of doing the job. It was not that he was not able. It really was because he did not really want to. He also understood that this incident played out before his eyes to instruct him about his own circumstance. If he could only meditate on and deeply realize the true value of the accomplishment at hand then he could gain enough power to leverage himself to do the impossible.

 

Reb Levi Yitzchok realized immediately that if he saw this event it was meant for his eyes. He was being shown this scene for a pointed reason. That’s how great people think! The Torah wants us to think like Tzadikim too. If this person who was in the Beis HaMikdash one day happened to have seen what he saw, then it was designed and prepared and acted out before his eyes for a special reason.

 

Imagine, now, you are hustling on the highway at a very fast pace when traffic slows to a crawl. Eventually the cause of heavy traffic is known as you have your turn to rubberneck while passing the scene of an overturned car. The police and EMT people are standing around looking quietly morose. It seems the worst has happened. For the next 10 minutes your foot wishes to press even harder on the gas pedal but you recall that deadly scene and arrest yourself. After a time it is already an ancient memory. You might wonder, why HASHEM showed you that picture, or why you had to hear some other piece of distressing news and then figure out how you can take that tragedy and switch it for a life saving lesson.

  

Saturday, June 4, 2022

 

The Wilderness Within

Parshas Bamidbar

Posted on June 6, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

Was it an accident of geography that a barren wilderness lay between Egypt and the Promised Land? Was it an accident of geography that the Torah was given to the Jewish people on a rocky mountain in a parched and desolate land? Would history have taken a different course had they encountered wooded mountains and verdant pastures when they emerged from bondage in Egypt?

 

This week’s Torah reading seems to indicate that there is a significant connection. The commentators observe that the reading begins with the words “And Hashem spoke to Moses in the Sinai wilderness.” Why was it necessary for the Torah to tell us the obvious, that the Torah was transmitted in the wilderness? These words, explain the commentators, contain a powerful implied message. In order for a person to make himself a receptacle for the Torah, he must first render himself a wilderness. In other words, he must distance himself from the concerns and pressures of society and live a more insular life.

 

What exactly does this mean? Are we meant to seek the wisdom of Torah in pristine corner of the world, far from the sounds and smells of civilization? Can’t the Torah be discovered in the synagogues and study halls of great urban centers where millions of Jewish people live? Of course it can. The Torah is identifying the mental rather than the geographic locales in which Torah can be found.

 

The Hebrew word for wilderness, midbar, reveals a certain ambivalence. On the one hand, it refers to a remote and isolated place. At the same time, however, it is closely related to the word medaber, one who speaks or communicates, which is quite the opposite of isolation.

 

A person who learns Torah has to function on two levels. He must focus on becoming a medaber, a person who interacts with others and communicates to them the values and ideals of the eternal Torah. But first he must fortify himself and become a midbar, a person insulated against the wicked influences and peer pressures of society, a person who stands on his principles and refuses to compromise in order to curry favor with others.

 

The Torah does not seek to make people into hermits and monastics. Rather, the paradigm of a true Torah Jew is one who brings the light of Torah to society with a sincere smile on his face and tempered steel in his heart, a gregarious recluse.

 

An idealistic young man came to seek the advice of a great sage. “I want to change the world,” he said. “I want to make it a better place. Where exactly should I concentrate my efforts?”

The sage smiled. “You remind me a little of myself when I was young,” he said. “At first, I wanted to change the world, but I discovered that I could not. Then I decided I would at least change my community, but I discovered that I could not. Then I decided that perhaps I could at least change my family, but that too was beyond my ability. Finally, I realized I should at least try to change myself, and that has been a lifetime struggle. But I believe that if I had started with changing myself, I might have been able to do something for the world as well.”

 

In our own lives, there is practically no spot in the developed world where we are not blanketed by an aura of decadence and corruption that seeks to penetrate our very souls. So what are we to do? Are we to abandon our homes and careers and go off to a desert island? Not at all. But we must always be acutely aware of the spiritual dangers that lurk everywhere we turn. We must imbue ourselves with the spirit of Torah until it become like an impenetrable suit of armor. Only when we are thus fortified can we venture forth to bring the message of the Torah to society at large.

 

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

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