Our Covenant – the Great Equalizer

Parshas Netzavim

Posted on September 19, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

In emphasizing once again the eternal validity of G-d’s covenant with the Jewish people, Moshe addresses his words to the entire nation. All classes of society are included in the covenant – the heads of the people, the judges, the wealthy and powerful, the poor, menial and manual laborers, and those that chop the wood and draw the water. No one is excluded from the terms of the covenant and no one is allowed the luxury of assuring one’s self that Jewish destiny will not apply to him or her.

 

There may be exceptional people in every generation but there are no exceptions to the efficacy of the covenant on all of Israel.Judaism does not have two sets of rules, one for the elite and the other for the masses. It is an equal opportunity faith. Its leaders, be they temporal or spiritual, are bound to the same code of behavior.

 

Unlike other faiths that have different rules and mores for their clergy than they do for the lay population, Judaism does not even recognize the existence of a clergy class. There is no separate Shulchan Aruch for rabbis. The covenant binds and governs us all equally.

 

We see throughout Tanach that kings and prophets were held to the same standards and requirements of the covenant that apply to the ordinary citizen as well. The power of the covenant is all encompassing and embraces all generations – those that have gone before us, those that are currently present and those that will yet come after us. This is the key to understanding the Jewish story from the time of Moshe until today.

 

The Torah recognizes the nature of human beings. It knows that we all procrastinate and make rational excuses for our shortcomings. Therefore, the concept of the covenant is a necessary facet of all human existence and especially so for the Jewish people.

 

The covenant of the rainbow exists to remind us of the wonders of the natural world in which we are temporary guests. The covenant of history, of which the Jewish people is the primary example in the human story reminds us of the Creator’s involvement in human affairs, unseen but omnipresent.

 

The covenant is the great net which encloses us all, even those who somehow have convinced themselves that they swim freely in the waters of life. The binding, and many times, tragic effects of the covenant are part of the Torah readings of this week’s parsha and that of last week as well. The events that befell the Jewish people over the last century amply show that the dread engendered by the force of the covenant is justified and real. But the covenant has an optimistic and hopeful side to it, in its promise of redemption and restitution to greatness and tranquility.

We are a covenantal people. And though we each possess freedom of will, the terms of the covenant control our national destiny and our personal lives as well.

 

Shabbat shalom and Shana tova,
Rabbi Berel Wein

 

Family Values

Parshas Netzavim

Posted on September 27, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

We have heard a great deal recently about family values. For a while, the phrase was mocked and ridiculed. Then it enjoyed a shift in popularity, and everyone claimed to be its champion.

 

Today, it is universally acknowledged in our society that family values are important. But what exactly are family values, and how are they to be transmitted to our children? These questions remain points of serious contention.

 

Let us look into this week’s portion to see what the Torah has to say about this subject. The Jewish people are standing on the Plains of Moav, about to enter the Land of Israel. Moses, however, knows that he will not enter the Land and that he is about to die. “I have placed before you life and death, blessings and calamity,” he admonishes the people from whom he will soon be parted, “and you shall choose life, in order that you may live, both you and your children.” (Deuteronomy 30:19)

 

These words are a veritable enigma. Why did the Jewish people need to be instructed to “choose life”? What sane person, when presented with a choice between life and death, would not choose life? And how would “choosing life” ensure that their children would live as well?

 

Wouldn’t the children be presented with the same choices as their parents?

 

The famous medieval commentator Rabbeinu Yonah of Gerona, author of the classic Shaarei Teshuvah, explains that our decision to embrace the values of the Torah should not be based solely on our obligation to G-d to obey His will. Rather, we should embrace it with a profound appreciation of its awesome power and eternal truths. We should appreciate fully that the Torah, which is the Word of the Creator of the Universe, is the true source of life – the only source of life. He goes on to explain that the importance of developing this outlook with regards to developing a relationship with G-d is not only in order to ensure that we have the proper attitude. It is to raise us to a higher level, to make us servants who serve their lord out of exuberant joy rather than sullen obedience.

 

With this in mind, a great sage explained how “choosing life” affects one’s children. If parents fulfill their obligation to G-d as if it were a burden upon them, the children may choose to do even less. However, if children see their parents living by the wisdom and guidance of the Torah with joy and enthusiasm, the children will associate their precious Jewish heritage with the essence of life itself. Then they too will “choose life.”

 

There was once a noted scholar who taught many disciples and received people from early morning until late at night. To his great disappointment, however, his son was wild and displayed little interest in his studies. Down the street lived a simple shoemaker whose son was a budding young scholar. One day, the scholar paid the shoemaker a visit.

 

“Tell me, my friend,” he said, “what do you do that has earned you such a fine son? I want to learn from you.”

 

“It is very simple, rabbi,” said the shoemaker. “Friday night, you come to the table exhausted from your holy efforts. You rush through the meal, give the children a few minutes of your time and go to sleep. On the other hand, the highlight of my whole week is Friday night when I can linger over the meal, sing songs with my family and review the events of the week in the light of the wisdom of the Torah. The spirit of Shabbos is alive in my home, and my children love it.”

 

As we face the new year, let us take these lessons to heart. Family values begin with ourselves.

 

If we know what to value in life, if we appreciate the priceless gifts of the Torah, our own enthusiasm will automatically be transmitted to our children. And when they are presented with the awesome choices of this week’s Torah portion, they will undoubtedly “choose life.”

 

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

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

 

 

 

Healthy and Productive Living

Parshas Ki Savo

Elul / Rosh Hashanah

Posted on September 8, 2017 (5779) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 Could a Shofar be blown in a city and the people not tremble in fright?! (Amos 3:6)

Rav Sadiah Gaon offered ten different messages of the Shofar. Amongst them is included, 1- A reminder of the Yom HaDin, the day of ultimate judgment. 2- The sound of the Shofar signals the day when the Jewish People will be gathered in again from various lands of exile. 3- The Shofar is portends the time of the revival of the dead. 4- The Shofar is also a haunting reminder of the destruction of the Temple, and when our enemies triumphantly blew Shofar. 5- The Shofar is connected with the near sacrifice of Yitzchok and the ram that was as his replacement. 6- The Shofar reminds us of the corrective words of the Prophets. 7- The Shofar hearkens back to the sounds surrounding the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai. 8- The Shofar alerts us that The King is making a decree and this is His warning. 9- The Shofar heralds the presence of the King in the Midst of His coronation. The King is being inaugurated. 10 – The Shofar is meant to inspire fear. About this the Prophet Amos said, “Could a Shofar be blown in a city and the people not tremble in fright?!”

 

If the Shofar is meant to create an experience of fear, then the question is about how we spend our on this day of awe. We are happily eating and drinking and rejoicing. How can we afford to be so relaxed when there is so much to be serious, real serious about?!

 

Here are few approaches and I am certain there are many more. In order to have fulfilled our requirement of listening to the Shofar on Rosh HaShana it is necessary that one hears a combination of three sounds. There is a straight sound- Tekiah that is followed by some combination of two or one of a sobbing sound -Shvarim and a staccato –

Truah sound followed once again by the straight Tekiah. The pattern is straight and then broken and then straight.

 

One hint here, one implied message is that while on the inside a person is shattered and trembling with awe he must still conduct himself outwardly with joy and calmness. This is part of the art of living a normal life with HASHEM deep in hearts while conversing with the world.

 

I remember that when I was in Yeshiva, one day during the month of Elul I was walking past a Rabbi who noticed my dour and ultra-serious expression. He asked me, “What’s wrong?” I answered in on word, “Elul!” He told me, “Elul is for the Rishus HaYachid –the private domain, inside your heart. Your face, however, is the Rishus HaRabbim- the public domain.”

 

I was at a principals’ convention and we had the honor of hearing Rabbi Michel Twerski from Milwaukie. I was overawed by his presentation. There was one thing he said just as the lecture was beginning which was like a throwaway line and not his main topic at all. I’m certain it slipped unnoticed beneath the radar but this chunk of wisdom caught my attention big time.

 

There was so much depth and poetic wisdom in this one subtle phrase. He said in a slow and thoughtful almost hypnotic tone, “People ask me if I get scared before I speak. I have been doing this for more than 50 years. I still get butterflies, but by now the butterflies are flying in formation.”

 

Fear is good. Before speaking I am only afraid if I’m not afraid. That fear cannot be a paralyzing or debilitating fear but rather a fear that is sublimated and channeled into healthy and productive living.

 

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.

 

1.28:42 2.Yoma 9b

 

Jewish History and the Farmer

Parshas Ki Savo

Posted on September 2, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

I have in earlier years written about the strange requirement that the Torah imposes upon the Jewish farmer in the land of Israel when he brings his first crop of the year to Jerusalem as an offering in the Temple. However, I want to reiterate and expand on the matter once again in this short article because I believe it to be of vital and relevant importance to us in our times.

 

The Jewish farmer, in a review of Jewish history, recounts as to how he arrived at bringing this offering to the temple. He relates the story of our forefathers, of Abraham and Jacob and of their struggles to survive in a very hostile environment.  He explains how the great and essential idea of monotheism, morality, charity, and godliness in human society was propagated. The one bringing the offering then recounts the fact that we have never had an easy road on which to travel. Our forefathers were enslaved in Egypt for centuries and sank to low levels of physical and spiritual standards. Yet, the Lord redeemed us and took us out from the house of bondage through miraculous events under the leadership of Moshe.

 

We were granted the Torah and we were entrusted with the mission to be a holy nation and a kingdom of priests. We wandered in the desert for 40 years, sustained only by the will of heaven, and finally arrived in the land of Israel, a land promised to us through our forefathers by the G-d of Israel. And now, as a fulfillment of this drama of Jewish history, the farmer can bring these first crops of the year to Jerusalem, as an offering in the temple.

 

There is an innate desire within all human beings to know about their past. At one time or another, all of us experience the feeling of déjà vu, about events and places that we know we have never been to before or have never experienced in this lifetime. It is this sense of history, of the past that imposes itself upon us. Unfortunately, most Jews in our time are completely unaware of their past. They have no idea as to their ancestry, traditions and the events that have led them to where they are and who they are today. In that ignorance lies the main cause for the alienation and disaffection of so many Jews as to their faith and future.

 

They are overwhelmed by the present and fearful of the future simply because they are ignorant of their past. This engenders a feeling of panic and uncertainty that gnaws at the very vitals of their existence. This is especially true here in Israel, now almost 75 years after its creation and founding, the state is still taken for granted and has lost some of its luster. It is no longer treasured as it once was and should be.  To sanctify the mundane – to make even the produce of this country into a holy offering – knowledge and appreciation of the past is necessary. This is an important lesson that this week’s reading imparts to us.

 

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

 

A Measured Approach to Change

Parshas Ki Seitzei

Posted on September 9, 2022 (5782) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

Moshe (Moses) continues to enumerate in Ki Seitzei, this week’s Torah portion, the many Mitzvos (commandments) G-d gave to the Jewish people. This portion actually has the largest listing of Mitzvos of any weekly Torah reading — 74 in total.

 

Among these is the prohibition of doing business with, and even owning, faulty weights and scales. The prohibition to steal another’s property is well known (See Lev. 19:11), of course, and using inaccurate weights would seem to be just another form of stealing. However, when the Torah describes the specific prohibition of faulty weights, it goes out of its way to explicitly condemn the practice saying, “All who do these things are an abomination to G-d — all who do falsehood. (Deut. 25:16)” General theft, as severe as it is, does not carry this harsh condemnation. What is it about faulty weights that warrants this language?

 

To understand this, we should ask ourselves: how much money is stolen when a person uses a false weight? In order to fool customers, he or she would only adjust the scales slightly, so as not to raise suspicion. One would probably offset the weight by no more than 10%. So, if the person were selling apples for $1 per pound, but set the scale so that a “pound” was really only 9/10 of a pound, all they’ve pilfered is 10 cents per pound. Is 10 cents such a severe crime?

No, ten cents is not a huge act of theft—but that is only one purchase, of one pound of apples. After ten purchases, it’s a dollar. After a day, it’s well over $10. After a year, it’s thousands of dollars.

 

The crime of false weights and measures is so abominable because it is not simply the result of a one-time temptation. It takes obvious premeditation to alter the scales, and to decide, each and every day, to open up your shop with false weights, every sale a small act of theft. It is this unrepentant, ongoing engagement in crime that warrants the Torah’s severe condemnation.

 

We know that the reward for good deeds is greater than the punishment of bad ones. So if such is the condemnation of a persistent evil practice, one can imagine the effusive praise for one continually engaged in Mitzvos! It’s for this reason that when we seek to make positive changes in our life, its so important to undertake a small, repeating commitment. This is known in Jewish tradition as a “Kabola,” a pledge. To make real change in your life, commit to a positive practice, like giving money to charity, or offering a compliment to someone, and pledge to do it every day. I know a young man who gives 5 cents to charity every day. That’s not very much, but it requires forethought, and persistence, and it trains him every day to think about other people.

 

It’s a small investment, that adds up to not only $1000 over 50 years, but it ultimately changes his personality, and he is more likely to give of himself when called upon for greater sacrifice.

 

As Rosh Hashana approaches, we look to make lasting changes in our lives. Let’s avoid the end of the year rush and make a small daily pledge. It amounts to a daily decision to do a special Mitzvah, and the benefits that accrue will bring overwhelming rewards. (Based on Be’ar HaParsha, Rav Elimelech Biderman)

 Family Friction

Parshas Ki Seitzei

Posted on September 12, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

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.

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