A Vision Thing

Parshas Terumah

Posted on January 31, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

Among the items that were to be included in the building of the Tabernacle was acacia wood. And though there is no acacia wood in the Sinai Desert, Rashi tells us that 210 years before the exodus, on the journey to Egypt, Yaakov (Jacob) brought acacia trees to be planted in Egypt. He knew that one day the Jews would be liberated and would need a sanctuary in their sojourn. So he prepared wood. Yaakov had not seen his son for 22 years, yet mind while going to see Yoseph, he brought the material needed for a structure, that was to be built years in the future! What prompted Yaakov to think that way? Was there nothing else to bring to Egypt? Why wasn’t he worried with the needs of the present? After all, 70 souls were entering a new land and culture. I am sure there were more pertinent things to bring than wood.

 

On a visit to Congregation Toras Chaim of Hewlett, NY, Rabbi Paysach Krohn told a wonderful story. Ponovez Yeshiva in Bnai Beraq is one of the most distinguished Yeshivos in the world. A number of years ago, at the beginning of a semester, a young boy from Switzerland who applied there was denied entry. The Rosh Yeshiva (Dean) told him to come back in a few years, his level of study was not advanced enough for the Yeshiva, and he also was a bit too young.

 

The boy said he understood, but he wanted to speak to the Rebbitzen, the widow of the founder and late Rosh Yeshiva of Ponovez, Rabbi Yosef Shlomo Kahanamen, of blessed memory. The Yeshiva administration was a bit surprised: Rav Kahanamen had passed away a number of years prior, and the young man did not claim to know the Rebbitzen. More important, she had no role in the admission process. Nevertheless, the young man was shown the Rebbitzen’s apartment.

After a few moments, the boy emerged, and the Rebbitzen asked to speak with the Rosh Yeshiva. It took less than a few minutes, for the Rosh Yeshiva to emerge and motion the young student waiting outside of the Rebbitzen’s apartment.

“Welcome to Ponevezer Yeshiva,” the Rosh Yeshiva heartily declared. “We have decided to accept you wholeheartedly.”

The boy smiled while many of the students and others who gathered outside the apartment were baffled. “What could have influenced the decision?” they wondered.

 

The young man solved the mystery for the students who had gathered near the Rebbitzen’s apartment.

“When I was seven years old, one summer my mother and I vacationed at a Swiss mountain resort.”

Coincidentally, the Ponovezer Rav z’l was in Switzerland for the summer and checked in to the only kosher hotel in the area – the one we were at! The problem was, the only available room was on the upper floor, and it was hard for the Rav to walk up and down. My mother heard about the problem and immediately offered to switch our room on the first floor, with his.

After thanking her profusely, the Rav called my mother and me into his new room. “I want to thank you, Mrs. Schwartz,” he said. “I understand that when on vacation it is hard to move rooms, but more so I also want to express appreciation to your son. I’d like to buy him a toy in a gift shop. What would he like?”

 

“I told the Rav that I did not want a toy, I did not want any prize. I did not even want a few coins. All I wanted is to become a student one day in the Ponovez Yeshiva. The Rav smiled and said that he would accept me whenever I felt I was ready. Immediately, the Rav took out a pen and paper and wrote the note that I handed to the Rebbitzen today. Frankly, I never even read it. All I know is that the vision of my youth was fulfilled today.”

 

Upon descending to Egypt, Yaakov Avinu knew that redemption would be a long way off. He also understood that one day there would be a Mishkan (Tabernacle) for his children. For without it, the exodus would be meaningless. Yaakov realized that a home for spirituality would be the key to Israel’s survival. In Braishis (Genesis), after crossing a river, Yaakov worries about little things he left behind and returns to retrieve them. He worried about the small things that were dear to his children. He worried about the memories of the past. Here, Yaakov worries about what he needs to build the future.

 

There were flourishing Jewish communities in the early years of American Jewish immigration. The communities that had the vision to bring the wood to build a Mishkan – the home for Torah — are still vibrant and flourishing. For with the vision for spirituality the Jewish people will always have the spirituality for vision.

 

Good Shabbos!

The Wealth Challenge

Parshas Terumah

Posted on February 26, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

One of the greatest problems that has dogged religious life throughout the centuries is the place of material wealth and money in the structure of religious life. It is obvious to all that wealth corrupts and sullies noble programs and plans. The question boils down to the eternal issue as to whether the noble ends – Jewish education, synagogue worship, social charitable endeavors — justify the means, as the process often borders on the unethical procurement of money.

 

Monetary scandals have plagued all religious projects and ambitions from time immemorial. The fact that the goal trying to be achieved is so noble and morally necessary, makes the temptation to deviate from correct integrity and proper behavior in fund raising and monetary conduct all the more tempting. Unfortunately, the history of religion is littered with monetary scandals driven by poor decisions.

 

The prophets of Israel decried this situation during First Temple times, but apparently to little avail. Religion sadly has a tendency to transform itself into a business, a commercial enterprise. And this always leads to the desecration of G-d’s name and catastrophic disasters. Many commentaries and scholars have stated that this monetary corruption was the real basis for the destruction of the Temples themselves, and the continued cessation of Temple service even until our very day. Even buildings and programs conceived in holiness and founded by the most righteous of people are susceptible, over time, to fall into the trap of monetary scandal. I need not and will not enumerate specific examples of this weakness, but all of us are aware of their existence and sad influence.

 

Yet, despite all of this, these dangers are almost inevitable.  This week’s Torah reading combines the ideas of holy service to G-d with the necessity of fund raising and material wealth. The Torah apparently is of the opinion that the benefits of channeling and using money for noble good outweighs the dangers inherent in combining religion with wealth and money.

 

In fact, this is the pattern of the Torah in all matters of everyday life, events and society.

 

Judaism does not allow for excess ascetism or hermit-like lifestyles. We are always somehow to be engaged in this world, gaudy and flawed as it may be. Yet the challenge is to somehow remain a holy people, a kingdom of priests, while dealing with these challenges that mark our daily lives and society. The holy tabernacle/mishkan is to be constructed through heartfelt donations of material wealth and personal volunteerism. Though religion and faith are corrupted by monetary issues, wealth applied correctly and through a generous hand can enhance and even ennoble religion.

 

Moshe was shown a coin of fire in Heaven. It could burn and destroy, but it could also warm and light the way. The word Terumah itself, in its literal sense, means to uplift and raise. Wealth properly used and applied can be the engine that propels all holy endeavors forward. As it was in the time of Moshe, so, too, does it remain one of the greatest challenges in Jewish life.

 

Shabbat shalom
Rabbi Berel Wein

 

 

Good Judgment

Parshas Mishpatim

Posted on February 1, 2019 (5779) By Rabbi Yaakov Menken | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

Our reading begins, “And these are the judgments…” [Ex. 21:1]           

 

The laws in the Torah described as “judgments” are civil laws, which every society must have in order to avoid anarchy. Yet the Torah emphasizes that its civil laws are of Divine origin, like the laws governing the Sabbath and festivals. As Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki says, “Just as the earlier [words] were from Sinai, these also are from Sinai.”

 

The world cannot tell us what is right, appropriate, and good — even in the area of civil laws. This is true both of the laws themselves, and in how they are observed. Secular civil laws are things we are forced to do… unless we feel certain we won’t get caught. All Torah laws, by contrast, should be ones we are anxious to observe in meticulous detail.

 

The Torah tells us that even in our daily affairs, there is a Divine standard. We shouldn’t learn how to act, how we should conduct ourselves, from watching society around us. We shouldn’t mimic those whom others admire, whether that means politicians, the wealthy, sports “heros” or entertainers (none of whom, it must be said, have distinguished themselves as role models).

 

Who, then, should we emulate? The answer is obvious: the scholars who have absorbed the teachings of the Torah. In the Talmud, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says that one who has learned Torah and Talmud, yet has not served a scholar, is still an ignorant person! [Brachos 47b] This is because Torah is about a different approach to life, and not simply an intellectual exercise. Learning how a holy person conducts his daily affairs is a lesson in Torah.

 

It’s not that hard to see the difference. A child raised on “these found items are his [to keep], but these must be announced [in order to return them]” gains a different perspective than one taught “finders keepers, losers weepers!”

 

My wife heard from a teacher who, after decades of experience in public schools, started teaching in the primary school my boys attended. She told of an incident that made her realize she was in a “different” school (her word).

 

She awarded a boy a can of soda as a prize at the end of class. He stopped to put the can in his locker on his way to his next class, to drink it later — and she asked him if he would prefer that she keep the soda for him to pick up from her, so that no one would take it in the meantime.

“No one would take my soda,” said the boy. “That would be stealing!”

 

What is obvious to children is not always equally obvious to adults. Our minds learn to make excuses, and we are influenced by what we read and hear, by what others have done. This is why it is so important to learn from the standards of the Torah, and the practices of scholars. “Even” in daily affairs, we should aim for a higher standard!

 

 

Delayed Gratitude

Parshas Yisro

Posted on February 4, 2021 (5781) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

After the great miracles of the Exodus — the splitting of the sea, the falling of the Manna, and the Jewish victory when attacked by the Amalek nation — Yisro (Jethro), Moshe’s father-in-law, was so impressed by this evidence of G-d’s love for His nation that he traveled into the desert to join them, to become one of them.

 

Upon his arrival, Moshe recounted to Yisro all that had transpired. To this Yisro responded, “Blessed is G-d, who saved you from the hand of Egypt and Pharaoh!” The Talmud comments that no one said “Baruch Hashem” (Blessed is G-d) before Yisro.

 

“Baruch Hashem” is essentially an expression of thanks to G-d. Was Yisro really the first to thank G-d? The Torah recounts numerous instances when the Patriarchs and others gave thanks as well. Moshe and Miriam led the Jewish People (separately) in singing praises to G-d after the sea split and the pursuing Egyptians were drowned. What, then, was unique about Yisro’s expression of thanks?

 

Those who preceded Yisro were thankful, but they only expressed their thanks immediately after they were personally favored with G-d’s goodness. The moment of deliverance overwhelmed them with a sense of gratitude, and they recognized G-d as the source of their blessing. Yisro’s special expression of thanks came long after the splitting of the sea, possibly many months later [and in addition, he was not there himself to witness it]. He was the first to give thanks after the excitement of the moment had abated. He showed we should be no less thankful, and express our thanks even for kindnesses of the past. (Based on a weekly Maamar of HaRav Moshe Sternbach)

 

As any self-help book will tell you, gratitude is an essential ingredient of happiness. The challenge is to be thankful even when life appears to be unkind to us. To keep ourselves in good spirits, it is crucial to maintain a feeling of gratitude for previous kindnesses, even many years after they happened — for that feeling will help us pass through what may seem to be darker times.

 

We must also be thankful for G-d’s daily gifts, which are so common that we may not think about them. The simple ability to breathe is a constant gift. Tragically, the Covid virus, one that can severely infect the lungs and impair breathing, has taught all of us not to take steady breathing for granted. So this, too, is a constant reason to give thanks.

 

In reality, we should constantly be giving thanks for the gifts given to us at every moment, but routine would quickly drain this of all meaning. We owe it to G-d and to ourselves, nonetheless, to express our thanks for the commonplace at least periodically, and to recall the gifts of the past as well.

 

Judaism incorporates gratitude into our daily prayers: “Modim,” in particular, is both an essential part of the Amida, the standing prayer, and a beautiful expression of thanks (in translation, its text may be found here). It is important both religiously and psychologically that we teach ourselves not to merely recite, but to deeply feel its words.

 

And we owe our thanks to Yisro for teaching mankind this meaningful lesson!

 

The post Delayed Gratitude appeared first on Project Genesis, Leaders in Online Jewish Learning.

 

A Welcome Introduction

Parshas Yisro

Posted on February 8, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

It is well known that there is a difference of opinion as to whether Yitro’s arrival in the camp of Israel in the desert occurred before or after the revelation and granting of the Torah at Mount Sinai. Even if we say that Yitro arrived before the momentous event of Mount Sinai and that the Torah is recording events in a chronological manner, it still is difficult for us to understand.

 

Why is this most important event in Jewish history as outlined for us in the Torah, be preceded by a rather mundane description of Yitro’s arrival and reception in the camp of Israel? Would it not be more effective to highlight the revelation at Sinai immediately at the beginning of the parsha? And this appears to be especially true since the parsha goes into great detail and some length in describing the circumstances and experience of the revelation at Sinai.

 

Why is there such an apparent emphasis on Yitro and his arrival? And this question certainly is even more difficult if we adopt the opinion that the revelation at Sinai occurred before the arrival of Yitro. It almost seems that by recording for us the entire story of the arrival of Yitro the Torah somehow diminishes, in emphasis and focus, the narrative regarding the revelation at Sinai itself.

 

If there ever was a stand-alone event in Jewish and in world history it certainly would be the moment of the revelation and granting of the Torah at Mount Sinai. So what is the story of Yitro doing being involved in the immortal narrative of the most seminal event in human history?

 

We are all aware of the great dictum of the Talmud that proper worldly behavior precedes the Torah itself. The order of the subjects in this week’s parsha reinforces this idea clearly and cogently. The Torah records for us the politeness, courtesy, respect and sensitivity extended to Yitro by Moshe and Aaron and the Elders of Israel and all of the Jewish people when he arrived in their midst.

 

The Torah indulges in great detail in describing the reception that Yitro received. Simple courtesy extended to a stranger is the basis of the Jewish value system. It is what separated Abraham from Sodom. The Ten Commandments and in fact the entire Torah itself cannot be understood or appreciated without a grounding in this basic idea of the worth of the human being and of the necessity to honor, welcome and help of one another.

 

That is why we are not to be murderers, robbers, adulterers, lying witnesses or people of greed and avarice. The Talmud places great emphasis on the small things in life that make for a wholesome society. It records for us in great solemnity that one of the great virtues of the leading scholars of Torah of its day was that they greeted everyone, no matter who that person was, in pleasantness.

 

This value is emphasized over and over again in the writings of the great men of Israel, throughout the generations. Therefore the welcome to Yitro must inevitably precede the law of the Torah itself for it is the value upon which the Torah itself is based.

 

No Justice No Place

Parshas Yisro

Posted on June 7, 2002 (5783) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

The Jewish judicial system was brought into existence after Moshe’s father-in-law Yisro criticized the system he felt was wrought with confusion and delay. In that system, Moshe bore the brunt of every minor complaint and grievance. He ruled on everything, and it was too much for him. His father-in-law would no longer allow it.

 

“What you are doing is no good.” cried Yisro. “You and the entire nation will wither from exhaustion.” (Exodus 18:17)

 

Yisro devised a plan in which judges were appointed on many levels. The simple cases would be presented to the lower judges, and the more difficult cases would work their way up the system until they finally reached Moshe. It was a workable plan that was received enthusiastically by Moshe and the leadership. It was the foundation for every judicial system from that time on.

 

Yisro ends his ingenious instruction with a blessing and an assurance. “If you do this thing — with G-d’s consent, then you will endure and the entire nation will arrive at their place in peace.” (Exodus 18:23)

 

They are very encouraging words. But they are difficult to relate to. What does expedient adjudication have to do with arriving at one’s destination or finding one’s place? What could Yisro mean by stating that if you mete out justice everyone will arrive at his place in peace? He should have said, “and the entire nation will live together in peace.” The words “arrive at his place in peace” seem to have little meaning.

 

Rabbi Chaim Kreisworth, the Chief Rabbi of Antwerp, Belgium, tells of a member of his congregation who approached him obviously quite upset.

 

“Rabbi,” he exclaimed, “I just don’t understand.” My friend Yankel and I began businesses of the same type at approximately the same time. He is doing remarkably well, while I am just floundering!.” “Are you working as hard as he is?” Rabbi Kreisworth asked.

 

“I sure am!” came the reply. “My place is right down the block from his, and I never close my shop until I see his car pull away!”

 

“Perhaps he has more employees?”

 

“Can’t be. I checked with his manager, and I have recently added two more than he has!”

“Perhaps the decor of his store is more attractive to consumers?”

 

“It just can’t be that, Rabbi. He remodeled last year, I checked the lighting, square footage, display cases — and on each count I outdid him when I remodeled a month later!”

 

At this point Rabbi Kreisworth smiled, “I have it all figured out. The reason Yankel is doing so much better than you is because he is only concerned in running his business. You, my friend, are running two! If you would just stay in your own place, you will also become a success.”

 

One of the Jewish people’s greatest assets is their ability to watch their own place. “How glorious are your tents, Jacob” is a reference to the dessert tents whose doorways did not face each other. When Jews argue and there is no justice, each one looks at the other: “what is he doing with my money?” However, when quick and fair justice is meted, each party can go home satisfied and ready to proceed with their own life. Yisro stated it with an exact certainty “and the entire nation will arrive at their place in peace.” If you have justice then everyone will truly arrive at his place in peace. No one will be interested in someone else’s place! And in that manner they all can find a place in peace.

 

 

 

An Eloquent Silence

Parshas Beshalach

Posted on February 3, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

If ever there was anyone caught between a rock and a hard place it was the Jewish people on the shores of the Sea of Reeds. With their backs to the churning waters, they watched in wide-eyed horror as thousands of Egyptian chariots thundered towards them, murderous steel blades flashing in the sun. Desperately, the people plunged into the depths of the sea, and wonder of wonders, Hashem parted the waters and led them through to safety.

 

At this transcendent moment, their hearts filled with joy and gratitude, they burst into a thrilling song of praise which the Torah records verbatim. In one of the most passionate lines, they cry out, “Who is like You among the lords, O Hashem?” The Sages perceive a deeper dimension in this declaration. The Torah uses the Hebrew word eilim for lords, and the Sages detect in this an allusion to the Hebrew word ilmim, silent ones. Accordingly, the Jewish people were also saying, “Who is like You among the silent ones, O Hashem?” This, the Sages explain, was a prophetic reference to the destruction of the Second Temple and the devastation of Jerusalem by the evil Roman general Titus, who desecrated the sanctuary and spilled rivers of innocent Jewish blood while Hashem remained silent.

 

The question immediately arises: Why choose the occasion of the splitting of the sea to mention Hashem’s silence during the holocaust that destroyed Jerusalem?

 

We all know that when we go through periods of anguish we are inclined to feel alienation and anger towards Hashem – even if we ordinarily strive for high levels of faith and observance.

 

Enough is enough, we scream silently. How can You let us suffer so much pain? And this feeling of abandonment, irrational as it is, just makes the suffering that much worse. Wouldn’t our suffering be more bearable if we could see Hashem watching over us throughout our ordeal, if we realized that, even in His silence, Hashem does not abandon a single person to random fate.

 

At the Sea of Reeds, this realization struck the Jewish people with great clarity. For so many years they had suffered the cruel agony of Egyptian shackles, their backs bent in backbreaking labor, their hearts and spirits shriveled inside their tortured bodies. It seemed as if the Creator had forgotten them. But now, in the most stunning miraculous display, He had split the sea to lead them to safety. Suddenly, they realized He had been watching over them all along, that His love for them stretched back hundreds of years to the Patriarchs. The pain and suffering had been an indispensable feature of the “iron crucible” of Egypt in which the Jewish people were molded and formed. From the perspective of hindsight, their suffering was not random, and the silence was very eloquent indeed.

As this important revelation sunk into the Jewish consciousness beside the sea, they realized how important it was to remember it for all future trials and travails. There would undoubtedly be other times of divine silence in the face of Jewish suffering and misfortune. But if the Jewish people would have the wisdom to perceive the benevolent presence of the silent Creator they would be able to accept their lot with courage and hope, and their suffering would be mitigated. Even during times of such profound darkness as the destruction of Jerusalem by the evil Titus, they would not fall victim to despair.

 

A young boy was wheeled into the operating room for a serious procedure. He was frightened but all alone. He yearned for the comforting hand of his father, but his father had been barred from the sterile operating room.

 

I want my father, the boy thought desperately. I want him here. But his father did not come, and the boy was terribly upset and resentful. How could his father abandon him at this time, the most trying of his entire life?

 

The operation was successful, and the boy was returned to his room. There stood his father, tears streaming down his face. He hugged and kissed his son with a greater outpouring of love than ever before. “My son, my precious son,” he said. “How sad that you had to be in that operating room all by yourself, but I was in constant touch with the doctors. You did not leave my thoughts, not even for a moment.”

 

In our own lives, all of us go through difficult periods at one time or another. Grief and suffering are part of the very fabric of life. But the way we deal with them is up to us. If we recognize that our warm and loving Father in Heaven pays meticulous attention to every minute detail of our lives, that He is with us constantly even in our darkest moments, we can find peace and serenity that are not vulnerable to the vicissitudes of life.

 

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

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

 

 

Input…Output

Parshas Beshalach

Posted on February 3, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

The sea had split. The enemy was drowned. And now the problems began.

 

The newly liberated nation was stranded in a scorching desert facing an unending landscape of uncertainties. Taskmasters no longer responded to their cries — Hashem did. He responded with protection and shelter on every level. But the Jews were still not satisfied. They were hungry. “If only we had died.. in the land of Egypt. Why did you liberate us to die in the desert? ” they cried to Moshe. (Exodus 16:3 )

 

Hashem responds with a most miraculous and equally mysterious celestial gift. Food fell from the heavens, but the people accepted it with piqued curiosity. Indeed, the dew-covered matter satiated their hunger, but they were not sure what exactly it was. “Each man said to his friend, manna ! For they did not know what it was.” (Exodus 16:14) The commentaries explain that the word manna is a Hebrew-Egyptian form of the word “what.”

 

At first, the Torah only discusses the physical attributes of the manna : “it was like a thin frost on the earth.” The Torah continues to tell us that on Shabbos the manna did not fall. A double portion fell on Friday — the extra portion was allotted for Shabbos. In referring to the manna of Shabbos the Torah tells us, “the children of Israel named it manna , and it tasted like a cake fried in honey.” Later, however, the Torah describes the manna ‘s taste differently: “it tasted like dough kneaded with oil.” (Numbers 11:8) Why does the Torah wait to describe the manna ‘s taste until Shabbos? Also, when did it taste sweet and when did it only taste like oily dough?

 

Another question is before Shabbos people asked, “what is it?” On Shabbos they named the miraculous food — “It is ‘what'” (manna ). Why did the Jews wait until Shabbos to describe concretely the miraculous edible with an official title manna — the ‘what’ food?

 

In the town of Lomza there was a group of woodcutters hired by the townsfolk to cut down trees for firewood. The strong laborers swung their axes and hit the trees all while shouting a great cry HAH with each blow. The timing had to be flawless. If the cry HAH came a split second early or, a second after the blade hit the tree, it would be a worthless shout that would not aid the lumberjacks at all.

 

Each year, Zelig the meshugener (crazy), a once-successful businessman who had lost his mind together with the loss of a young daughter, accompanied the woodcutters on their quest. He stood in the background and precisely as the ax hit the tree he, too, shouted on the top of his lungs HAH!

 

When it was time to get paid, the deranged Zelig also stood in line. “I deserve some silver coins!” he exclaimed. “After all without the chopping would not be as effective!”

 

The case was brought before the Chief Rabbi of Lomza who looked at the five lumberjacks and then at the meshugener. “Listen carefully, Zelig,” said the Rabbi. He then took 10 silver pieces in his hand and jingled them loudly. They made a loud clanging noise. Then he gave each woodsman two silver pieces. He turned to Zelig and smiled. “The men who gave the labor get the coins, and, Zelig, you who gave the sound, get the sound of the coins!”

 

Hashem in His infinite wisdom began our lessons in living through our daily fare. The Talmud states that the taste of the manna was integrally linked with the taster’s thoughts. If one thought of steak the manna tasted like steak: if one thought of borscht, the manna tasted like borscht. In fact, the Chofetz Chaim was once asked, “what happens if you think nothing?” He answered very profoundly: “If one thinks of nothing, then one tastes nothing!”

 

During the week the Jews had the manna but did not realize its great potential. The Malbim explains that is why it only tasted like oily dough. But on Shabbos, a day filled with sweet relaxation, heavenly thoughts filled the minds of the nation. And those sweet thoughts produced sweet tastes!

 

The Talmud also says that to small children the manna tasted like dough, but to scholars it tasted like honey. For if one thinks of honey, he tastes honey. When one thinks blandly, he has bland taste.

 

Perhaps on Shabbos the Jewish People realized the important lesson of life. The questions we face should not be addressed as eternally mysterious. We can not face the unknown with the question, “what is it?” Rather, we can define our destiny and challenge our uncertainties. “It is what!” What you put into it is exactly what you take out! Life presents us many opportunities. We can approach those moments with lofty thoughts and see, smell, and taste its sweetness. Or we can see nothing and taste nothing. We can chop hard and reap the benefits, or we can kvetch and enjoy only the echoes of our emptiness.

 

Our Capable Partner

Parshas Beshalach

Posted on February 3, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

They gathered it morning by morning, each one according to his eating capacity, and [when] the sun grew hot, it melted. It came to pass on the sixth day that they gathered a double portion of bread, two Omers for [each] one, and all the princes of the community came and reported [it] to Moshe. So, he said to them, “That is what HASHEM spoke, Tomorrow is a rest day, a holy Shabbos to HASHEM. Bake whatever you wish to bake, and cook whatever you wish to cook, and all the rest leave over to keep until morning” (Shemos 16:21-24)

 

The reception of MANN as a daily diet was not just a practical, albeit miraculous solution to sustaining a nation in the desert until they were ready to enter the land. It was part of an important training program. The Talmud tells us, “Ain HaTorah Nitna Ella L’Ochlei MANN” – “The Torah is only given to eaters of MANN”. What does that mean?

 

Was it just the purifying quality of this heavenly bread that prepared their bodies to receive the Torah or is there more? How do we become recipients of the Torah?

 

The Chovos HaLevavos, in his introduction to the Gate of Trust in HASHEM, spells out a few basic principles that explain the dynamics of Bitachon and how “it works”. Not only how Bitachon works but that Bitachon works. The first postulate is that it is impossible for a person to be free from worry unless he relies on HASHEM. This bold statement is calling out for an explanation. Bitachon is not sitting back passively and watching things happen. It is a division of labor, a working relationship built on trust.

 

I need to stay focused on my job, whatever is in my sphere of influence, and my Partner, HASHEM, takes care of everything and everyone else in the world. I cannot do my job if I am constantly bombarded by concerns about how everything and everyone else will be managed or controlled. It’s distracting at a minimum and ultimately maddening to bear the burden of a world over which you have no control. In the end, a person will not be able to do his primary job which is to first develop himself and then influence his family and friends.

 

He will be so busy being global that he will fail to be local, and it gets worse. The second postulate of the Chovos HaLevavos is that if one is not relying on HASHEM, then, by default, he is relying on something or someone else. It may be his good looks, his glib tongue, his rich uncle, Uncle Sam, a political connection, or public opinion. So, we see that a person has a natural trait, an instinct, a need to trust. The only question is, in what or whom he is trusting?!

The Chovos HaLevavos then states something that only he could say with certainty, and it explains a lot, and maybe everything. He states that HASHEM places the person into the limited capacity of whatever he believes in and trusts. Let’s see how far a person can go with his good looks alone.

 

If one relies on his money or popularity then he is left vulnerable and insecure. Whatever he is placing his trust and hope in, whatever he is relying on becomes his boss, his god. This is what he is dedicated to working for and protect and to satisfy at all costs.

 

Can a person have all of these good things and still rely solidly on HASHEM? Yes! How so? There is a Hallacha that a person is not allowed to lean on a lectern, a Shtender when Davening, Shmona Esreh. What is the standard that defines leaning on? If the person estimates, if the Shtender would be suddenly removed, would he remain stable or would he fall?! What if I didn’t have my money or friends anymore? Would I – could I still stand happily before HASHEM or would my world crumble?

 

Now, what was the purpose of this stuff called MANN? It was a training ground for the entire Jewish People to realize that we are absolutely reliant on HASHEM. We can have everything but if we don’t have HASHEM then we have nothing. If we have nothing else but we have HASHEM then we have everything. Now we can each focus on our job, learning Torah and doing Mitzvos, and raising a next generation to do the same, because while we are busily engaged in our job, everything else is reliably being catered and managed and perfectly ordered by our capable Partner.