Outsiders

Parshas Lech Lecha

Posted on October 25, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha| Level: Beginner

And Hashem took Abraham outside and said, gaze toward the heavens and count the stars if you are able! And He said to him, so shall your offspring be!”(Genesis:15:5) With those words, the Torah tells us G-d’s promise, ”Jews will be like the stars.”

 

Something is troubling. Why was is it necessary for Hashem to take a field trip with Abraham in order to impress upon him the vastness of the universe? At the time Abraham was 100 years old. Surely he knew that one cannot count the stars! Rashi, therefore, explains the verse on a deeper level.

Abraham had been told by soothsayers and astrologers that he and Sora would never bear children. Hashem however, took him outside.” Go outside of your pre-ordained destiny, ”He exclaimed. ”You are no longer governed by conventional predictions. I am taking you outside that realm.”

It’s quite interesting to note that Abraham’s great-grandson, Yoseph, followed literally in Abraham’s footsteps. He too ran outside. Yoseph was about to be seduced by the immoral wife of his master, Potiphar. She claimed she had a vision that a union of Yoseph and her would produce prestigious offspring. (She did not know that Yoseph would legitimately marry her daughter.) In Genesis 39:12 the Torah tells us that ”Yoseph dropped his coat and ran outside”.

 

Perhaps he was saying, ”I am not governed by your visions and predictions. I must do what my faith and morality teach me. Like my forebearers Abraham and Sora, I go outside your visors.”

 

Reb Yoseph Chaim had studied under the Chofetz Chaim before he settled in America. He had a very long and tranquil life until tragedy struck. His son Hirschel was in a terrible car accident and the doctors feared the worst. The family did not know just how to tell the news to the aged, yet very coherent, 87-year-old father. The hospital chaplain, Rabbi Schapiro, was asked to drive the old man to the hospital and slowly break the news on the way. This would be the last time Yoseph Chaim would probably see his son alive. When he broke the terrible news, however, the Rabbi was shocked at the old man’s indifference. “Perhaps I didn’t explain the severity of the situation, ”he thought. He figured that the scene at the bedside would speak for itself. It didn’t. Reb Yoseph Chaim walked up to the bedside, saw his son connected to a maze of tubes protruding from all over his body, and said to the surrounding physicians, “I guess he’s not up to talking right now. We probably should come back a little later”

 

The entire family was stupefied. They knew their father had an astute grasp of almost every situation, yet in this instance he could not face reality. The doctors predicted that Hirschel was not going to survive. Yet his father was not even fazed.

Reb Yoseph Chaim looked at all the shocked faces in the crowded ICU. “You doctors think you know the future? I know that Hirschel will be just fine. Let me explain. Many years ago the Chofetz Chaim wanted to make sure that his writings were understandable for the layman. He asked me to read the galleys and point out any difficult nuances. He was very appreciative of my efforts, and before I left for America he promised me, “Yoseph Chaim, if you remain a faithful Jew and Shomer Shabbos, I promise that you will have a long life filled with nachas. You will not lose any one of your children or grandchildren in your lifetime.’ Now gentlemen,” Reb Yoseph continued, “who should I believe?” Needless to say, within weeks Hirschel was out of the hospital. (Reb Yoseph lived to the ripe age of 96 and all his children and grandchildren did outlive him!)

 

The Jewish people are not controlled by the soothsayers of conventional wisdom.

 

Predictions of defeat were abound when Israel’s army is outnumbered 10 to 1 and — yet we survived. The dire predictions of mass assimilation amidst despair after World War II faded into a rebirth of a Jewish community and renewed Torah education on unparalleled levels. Conventional wisdom had lost hope for our Russian brothers and sisters, yet new embers of Torah Judaism are beginning to glow out of the former bastion of atheism.

 

We are not ruled by conventional wisdom. Like our forefather Abraham, we Jews are just outsiders.

 

 

The Ordeal of Departure

Parshas Lech Lecha

Posted on October 25, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

Before Abraham could be deemed worthy of becoming the Patriarch of the Jewish people, Hashem put him through ten ordeals to probe the depth of his devotion – all of which he passed brilliantly. The last and most familiar is, of course, the Akeidah,

when Hashem commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son, only to stay his hand at the very last moment. This week’s parshah describes one of the earlier ordeals, Hashem’s command to Abraham to leave Mesopotamia and settle in a different land.

 

The Midrash considers this ordeal comparable to the Akeidah as a test of Abraham’s devotion.

 

But how can these two situations be compared? On the one hand, we have the tragic image of an old man blessed with an only son at the age of one hundred and now being asked to bind him hand and foot and place him on the altar as a sacrificial lamb. Not only would he be left childless and devastated, but for his remaining age-dimmed years, during his every waking moment, he would think of nothing else but what he had done to his son. What a shattering ordeal! An ordinary man could not possibly have withstood it. On the other hand, we have the image of a man in vigorous middle age being told to relocate to a different land. Granted, relocation is an unpleasant experience. But tragic? Harrowing? Shattering?

 

Furthermore, let us take a closer look at the wording of the command. “Go away from your land, from your birthplace and from your father’s house to the land I will show you.” (Bereishis 12:1) Logically, it would seem, an immigrant first leaves the house of his father, then the city of his birth and, finally, his country. Yet here, Hashem tells Abraham to make his exits in the reverse order. Why is this so?

 

The answer lies in a deeper understanding of the command of departure. Hashem was not merely telling Abraham to relocate geographically a few hundred miles to the west. He was telling Abraham to make a complete break with the culture in which he had grown up and spent all of his life. Abraham had indeed recognized his Creator at a very young age and was completely free of pagan ideology, but he was still connected by cultural ties to the pagan society in which he lived. The style of his home, the clothes he wore, his modes of language, the cultural timber of his daily existence were all Mesopotamian. As long as he remained thus connected to the corrupt society of his ancestors, he would never be able to reach the highest levels of prophecy and attachment to his Creator. The only choice was to break away and move to a different land. In a strange land, even a corrupt pagan one, he could remain totally detached from his cultural surroundings. Standing alone in Canaan in his stalwart purity and righteousness, he could penetrate to the highest spheres of Heaven. But not in the land of his fathers.

 

Therefore, Hashem commanded him to sever all his cultural umbilical cords in a logical progression. First, his attachment to the country in general. Then his closer attachment to his birthplace. Finally, his attachment to the very household in which he was born. When this final detachment was accomplished, he could begin his spiritual journey toward prophecy and the establishment of the Jewish nation.

 

This departure, therefore, was a most difficult ordeal indeed. Abraham was required to purge himself every cultural vestige of his entire life, to penetrate every hidden crevice of his heart and soul, search out every hidden crumb of Mesopotamian culture and sweep it out. Perhaps this ordeal was not as frightening and tragic as the Akeidah, but in pure difficulty it may have surpassed it.

 

We all live in our own Mesopotamia, and no one can deny that the sinister strands of the surrounding culture insinuate themselves into the innermost crevices of our own hearts.

 

We are not Abrahams, of course, and we cannot be expected to extricate ourselves completely from these entanglements. However, we can at least recognize them for what they are and try to keep them at arm’s length so that we can grow spiritually even as we live in such an environment.

 

 

The Roots of Evil

Parshas Noach

Posted on October 18, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

What would it take for the entire world to be condemned to destruction? What heinous sins would society have to commit for Hashem to decide to wipe it out and start over again? We do not have to look far for the answer. In this week’s Torah portion, the world is inundated by the Great Flood, its cities, its institutions, its people, even its animals, all swept away. Only the hand-picked passengers on Noah’s ark were allowed to survive. What brought this on?

 

The Torah gives a lurid account of the level of depravity to which society had fallen, widespread idolatry, promiscuity and adultery so pervasive that even the animal kingdom was perverted, the total collapse of moral standards, the degeneracy and the shamelessness. And yet, the Torah tells us, the final decree of annihilation was triggered by financial crimes – “vatimalei haaretz chamas,” and the land was filled with robbery. Why was the crime of robbery considered worse than all the other horrendous crimes of society? After all, robbery is not a capital crime, while some of the others are indeed punishable by death. Why then was robbery the fuse that ignited the explosion called the Great Flood?

 

To further complicate matters, the Midrash that the robbery so prevalent in society was of a quite peculiar nature. Legally, a robber is not required to return stolen goods worth less than a small coin called a prutah. Such small sums are considered unworthy of litigation, and the victim undoubtedly writes it off. The people in prehistoric society would, therefore, steal from each other numerous times but always no more than the most minuscule sums. Over a long period of time, however, they were able to secure the property of their victims in a legal manner. But let us stop and think for a moment. This was no brazen robbery, no flaunting of the established authorities! Why should just this form of robbery be considered the worst possible offense, sufficient cause for the total inundation of society? How did this accepted, almost white-collar form of theft surpass idolatry and adultery in pure evil? The answer goes to the heart of the Torah perspective on the relationship between sin and evil. Hashem does not consider people as individuals or society as a whole to be evil simply because they committed a sin, even a very serious sin. Hashem recognizes that people are but flesh and blood and that sometimes it is exceedingly difficult to control the impulse to transgress, to step over the line.

 

Sinners are not necessarily evil and incorrigible.

 

The powerful attraction of sin does not, of course, exonerate the sinner. It does not absolve him from having to take responsibility for his actions and suffer the consequences. After all, he was given free will, and it is his moral obligation to exercise it when faced with temptation. But if he fails, if he is still not beyond hope. When the momentary weakness passes and he faces the enormity of his transgression, he can still feel shame and remorse. He can still find room in his heart for repentance.

 

But what if the sinner contrives loopholes and stratagems to give his sins a patina of legality? Such a person is truly evil and incorrigible.

 

He pats himself on the back for his strict adherence to the law, even as he thrusts his hand into another man’s pocket. This person acts not on impulse but with loathsome preparation and premeditation. What chance is there that such a man will have a change of heart, that he will repent? Not very likely. And therefore, Hashem recognized the corruption of society as permanent and irreversible. It was time to wash it away.

 

A ship was sinking, and land was just a faint line on the horizon. The dust-encrusted life rafts were unfortunately all leaky, but the passengers ran to grab them anyway.

One wise man ignored the rafts and prepared to plunge into the water.

“Don’t you want a raft?” asked the captain. “I can get you one.”

 

“No,” said the wise man. “If I know that I must swim with all my might I have a chance of surviving.

 

But if I mistakenly think I have a raft under me, I am surely doomed.”

 

In our own lives, we may sometimes find ourselves rationalizing our transgressions and shortcomings, maneuvering to find a path through the minefields of our moral dilemmas. We must recognize these tendencies as danger signals, as warnings that we are turning down a path that leads to corruption. We should take advantage of these moments to reevaluate ourselves, to transcend the frailties of the human condition and choose goodness for its own sake. At these very moments, when we stand on the brink of ruination, the right choice can elevate and enrich us for the rest of our lives.

Stop the Flow Before the Flood

Parshas Noach

Posted on October 28, 2022 (5783) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

The story of Noah and the great flood actually began at the end of last week’s Torah portion.

 

That is when G-d determined that the moral corruption of man had reached terminal levels. His decision was to erase all of mankind, indeed the whole world, and start afresh. As this week’s reading begins, He instructs the prophet Noah, the only righteous man of his generation, to begin construction of an ark that will save his family and all the various kinds of animals.

 

Noah was given 120 years to construct this life-saving boat. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 108b) explains that G-d intended a public, 120 year spectacle as Noah completed his construction project. People would inevitably ask Noah what he was doing, and this would give him the opportunity to warn them of the impending flood, and to beg them to change their ways to prevent the destruction.

 

Sadly, his warnings went unanswered. It’s perplexing: why did no one heed his message? Given Noah’s ongoing work, the skeleton of the Ark warning humanity that the evil into which they had descended was going to destroy the world, why didn’t anyone turn away from evil and corruption? Noah was known both as a righteous man and as a prophet, so his statement of G-d’s intent was undeniably accurate. Yet, over more than a century, as multiple generations of children asked their parents about the big Ark Noah was working on, and about his prophecy, no one took his message to heart. Even when the flood rains began to fall and the truth of the prophecy was coming to life, no one changed their ways.

 

The people didn’t change, because they were not able to change. Their 120 years of stubborn refusal to budge proved that their evil was beyond repair. As the Talmud says (Eruvin 19), “The wicked, even at the gates of purgatory do not repent.” Habits have the potential to reach such a state that even if you know that your behavior is wrong, and you say you want to change, you tragically lack the ability to change.

 

Habits, and even addiction, do not usually reach the intensity of Noah’s generation. Most often, they can be changed — but its not easy. The recalcitrance of that generation is a lesson for all of us to be vigilant in our behavior, and avoid forming destructive habits. The more habitual an activity is, the more difficult it becomes to break the pattern.

 

The challenge we have is that although we are wise enough to know that our behavior is wrong, our actions do not necessarily follow. The sages of the Mishna (Avos 3:22) say, “All whose deeds are more than their wisdom, their wisdom will endure.” The secret to practicing what you preach, is to practice! And practice, and practice some more. When you learn a piece of wisdom, find a way to put it into practice. Commit to some small improvement, something easy, and keep to it. If your good deeds, those tiny changes, accumulate, they too will become habits, and the great wisdom you’ve learned of how to live a more meaningful, joyful, spiritual life, will endure and stay with you for a lifetime.

 

 (Based on Lev Shalom, Rabbi Sholom Shvadron ztl

 

Let Us Make Man

Parshas Bereishis

Posted on October 11, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

Why would the Creator need any help to complete the work of creation? Surely, the One who formed the world out of nothingness, who created all the hosts of the heavens and the teeming life of the earth, was perfectly capable of creating anything He chose to create. And yet, on the seventh day of creation, He said, “Naaseh adam. Let us make man.” Whose help was He seeking? And why?

 

The Sages explain that Hashem was consulting with the angels, inviting their participation in the process of creating mankind. Although He obviously did not need their participation, Hashem was teaching us to be sensitive to protocol and proper behavior. Before undertaking a major project, consult with others.

 

The questions, however, continue to baffle. The angels were created on the third day, yet Hashem did not consult with them until the sixth day when He created mankind. Why didn’t he invite their input when He was creating the mountains and the valleys, the tress and the flowers, the animals and the fishes?

 

The commentators explain that the creation of mankind was indeed the most appropriate setting for teaching the lessons of proper etiquette. How do we measure the worth of a person?

 

On the one hand, every person is infinitely valuable, worthy of having the entire universe created for his sake, as the Sages tell us. On the other hand, there are people who are undoubtedly a disgrace to their purpose and design.

 

How then do we evaluate a person? We see if he is attuned to others or if he is totally egocentric. Only a person who recognizes that there is much to be learned from the knowledge and experience of his peers, who is sensitive to the feelings and sensibilities of others, truly has the potential for growth and fulfillment as a sublime human being.

 

Therefore, it was in the context of the creation of man that Hashem teaches us this important lesson. A tree is a tree and a flower is a flower no matter what, but a human being who has no use for other people’s advice is not much of a human being. He is not a mensch.

 

A young lady came to seek the advice of a great sage.

 

“I am so confused,” she said. “I have many suitors who have asked my hand in marriage. They all have such fine qualities, and I simply cannot make up my mind. What shall I do?”

 

“Tell me about their qualities,” said the sage.

 

“Well, they are all handsome and well-established. I enjoy their company, they are so entertaining.

 

Why, I can sit and listen to any of them for hours and hours.”

 

The sage shook his head. “These are not the qualities you should be seeking. It is all good and well if a man is handsome and wealthy, but does he have a good character? Is he a fine person? As for their being so entertaining, it is far more important that your husband be a good listener than a good talker. Look for a fine man who knows how to listen. He will bring you happiness.”

 

In our own lives, we must learn to differentiate between self-confidence, which is an admirable quality, and egotism, which is not. It is all good and well to believe in one’s own talents and abilities. The truly wise person, however, knows that all people have limitations, and there is always someone of value to be learned from other people. And even in situations where other people do not have anything worthwhile to contribute, the wise person will be sensitive to their feelings and make them feel involved and helpful. If we can find it in ourselves to overcome our egotistic tendencies and behave in the sublime manner of which human beings are capable, we will reap not only spiritual rewards but material and emotional rewards as well.

 

 

Reality Check

Parshas Bereishis

Posted on October 11, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Pinchas Avruch | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

Adam was placed in the Garden of Eden with but one command to follow: do not eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad. When the snake came to entice Chava (Eve) to eat from it, he steered the focus to the one forbidden tree by inquiring if G-d had forbidden eating from ALL of the trees. “The woman said to the snake, ‘Of the fruit of any tree of the garden we may eat. Of the fruit of the tree in the center of the garden G-d has said, “You shall neither eat of it nor touch it, lest you die.”‘” (Beraishis/Genesis 3:2-3) Indeed, G-d had never said anything about touching it. Rashi explains that the snake pushed Chava against the tree and she suffered no harm, to which the snake responded, “Just as you did not die when you touched the tree, nothing will happen when you eat from it.” Rashi notes that her effort to embellish G-d’s command led to its diminishment.

 

But why did her coerced contact with the fruit convince her that eating was without risk? After all, G-d does not hold people accountable for violations of the Divine will caused by outside forces. Sifsai Chachamim (super commentary on Rashi by Rabbi Shabsai Bass, 1641-1718) clarifies that Chava, in her effort to understand the punishing power of the fruit, rationalized that the fruit was toxic, from which she assumed that the toxins killed by any contact, internal or external. She was so invested in this rationale, concludes Sifsai Chachamim, that when touching the fruit caused no harm, she concluded that there must be no poison – G-d must not have been forthright in his warning, just as the snake told her – and, therefore, nothing would come of eating it.

 

How could Chava make such an egregious error? She knew that G-d said nothing about toxins, that it was her own assumption, contrived to make sense of the situation, and that she further invented the danger of any – even accidental – contact. When she saw that she did not die, she should simply have realized that her hypotheses were WRONG. How did she suppose that G-d was not truthful in His warning such that she felt free to eat without fear of consequence?

 

Rabbi Alter Henach Leibowitz (Rosh Yeshiva/Dean of Yeshiva Chofetz Chaim in Kew Gardens Hills, New York) observes the destructive power of haughtiness and unbridled self assuredness.

 

Chava was so confident in her comprehension of the tree’s power that the undoing of her assessment discredited the ENTIRE warning, to the point she lost faith in the basic Divine caveat to refrain from eating. So great is the challenge of recognizing and admitting one’s own failings that the normal human reaction is cognitive dissonance, the unwitting manufacture of a preposterous fact pattern in the simple effort to lend credence to – and avoid retraction of – one’s original assumptions. Chava could believe G-d was less than truthful, eat from the tree, and introduce death to the world, but she could not be wrong.

 

True humility is difficult to attain, but the Mishna (Eduyos 5,6) advises that it is better for one to be called a fool by his peers for his entire life than be construed as evil by G-d for one moment.

 

Orchos Tzadikim clarifies the corrosive nature of pride. G-d Himself warned us (Devarim/ Deuteronomy 8,14) that haughtiness causes such self overconfidence that one eventually forgets G-d and His role in guiding our daily affairs. With this comes dereliction to mitzvos (Divine commandments) and laziness toward chesed (kindness) opportunities, because his primary focus is himself. Conversely, continues Orchos Tzadikim, humility is the root of Divine service, because it is the recognition that our strengths and weaknesses, our successes and failures, are all ours as gifts from the Orchestrator of the Universe. Humility does not mean denying our talents. It means accepting that we are not the true source of those talents; accepting that the true source gave us those talents so we may fulfill a mission; and accepting that with those talents came a number of flaws, too.

 

Life is about choices. One of G-d’s greatest gifts to us is our freedom to choose…and one of our most important choices is: Whose will do I serve? Whose mission plan do I follow? Who is really “number one”? G-d or I?

 

Have a Good Shabbos!

 

Eve of Life

Parshas Bereishis

Posted on October 11, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha| Level: Beginner

Doom and despair and destruction. It all happened so fast after the promises of an idyllic life.

 

And all from two bites of the forbidden fruit. Man, who was promised eternal bliss in the Garden of Eden is now cursed with a plethora of misfortunes. He must toil by the sweat of his brow, work an earth that will produce thorn and thistle. His wife must bear the pain of childbirth with all its physiological implications. All these are crowned with the most powerful malediction that “you are of dust and to dust you shall return”.

 

But it seems that Adam takes all the news in proper perspective. In the verse that immediately follows the curses, Adam does not spread blame or lament his fate. He continues developing civilization exactly where he left off. Prior to his meeting Eve and partaking of the forbidden fruit, Adam began classifying all living things with names that appropriately described their attributes. After the curses he continues. He names his wife.

“Adam called his wife Chava because she was the mother of all life.” (Genesis 3:20)

 

Isn’t it unsuitable for Adam to name his wife Chava — the mother of all life — immediately following the curse of death? What message is the Torah sending us with that juxtaposition?

 

Rav Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev was known for his love and good will toward his fellow Jews always trying to assess the good in people rather than expose the bad.

 

Once on the Fast of Tish’a B’av he saw a Jew eating in a non-kosher restaurant. He tapped lightly on the window of the establishment and summoned the man outside.

 

“Perhaps you forgot that today is a fast day?” Rav Levi Yitzchok queried.

 

“No, Rebbe,” the man replied.

 

“Then perhaps you did not realize that this restaurant in not kosher.”

 

“No, Rebbe, I know it is a traife (non-kosher) eatery.”

 

Rav Levi Yitzchok softly placed his hands on the man’s shoulders and looked heavenward. “Ribbono Shel Olam, Master of the Universe,” he exclaimed. “Look at how wonderful your children are. They may be eating on a fast day. In a non-kosher restaurant to boot. Yet they refuse to emit a falsehood from their lips!”

 

Adam heard the curse bestowed upon himself, his wife, and humanity for eternity. His immediate reaction was not scorn or criticism. He named his wife Chava, derived from the word life. He viewed the woman whom he had once blamed for his downfall with a different perspective. He saw only the eve of life — and thus named her so. After tragedy and defeat there is enough blame to share and spread. Adam picked up the pieces and cherished the beauty of what was left.

 

He did not see himself on the eve of destruction. He saw himself standing at the dawn of life. And he appreciated that life dearly.

 

Count Your Blessings

Sukkos

Posted on October 21, 2003 (5764) By Rabbi Pinchas Avruch | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

SHMINI ATZERES/SIMCHAS TORAH and Parshas Vezos Haberacha – 22 Tishrei 5764

The First Day of the Rest of the Year

by Rabbi Moshe Peretz Gilden

 

Simchas Torah’s celebration of the completion of the Torah involves reading the final portion from the Torah, VeZos HaBeracha, and reading the account of the seven days of creation at the start of Beraishis (Genesis). The Torah’s conclusion is primarily the blessings that Moshe gave the Nation of Israel immediately before his death. But while the Parsha starts, “And this is the blessing that Moshe, the man of G-d, bestowed upon the children of Israel before his death.” (Devarim/Deuteronomy 33:1), before delivering the actual blessings, he first reviewed the giving of the Torah by G-d on Mount Sinai. Why is this interjection necessary?

 

Nachalas Dovid (Rabbi Dovid of Tevil, primary disciple of Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin, disciple of the famed Rabbi Eliyahu, Gaon of Vilna) explains that blessings cannot simply enter our lives.

 

Rather, blessings are requests for additional good to be added to the good one already has.

 

The prior blessing acts as a vessel to receive and carry the additional blessing. Moshe wanted to bless the Children of Israel, but he first needed to awaken their cognizance of their existing blessings. Thus, Moshe started with our receiving the Torah, utilizing the Jewish nation’s greatest blessing as the receiving agent for his blessings.

 

We all know we are supposed to “Count your blessings,” but we do not usually consider that a person who only sees the negative parts of his life he has no vessel to carry any blessings that he may deserve. However, one who is constantly attuned to all the good that he does have can receive even more, for now he has a “vessel” in which to carry them.

 

The holiday of Simchas Torah is a day to rejoice in the completion of the Torah. But it is also the completion of the cycle of holidays with which the Jewish year starts. We now appreciate the gifts G-d has given us: a renewed relationship with Him from Rosh Hashanah, a new lease on life and all of life’s accoutrements on Yom Kippur, and a new sense of trust in our Heavenly Father from Succos. Today we celebrate our manifold blessings: we savor the blessings of these past three weeks, and with them we ready ourselves to receive the bounty G-d has in store for us for the coming year.

 

Have a Good Shabbos and a Good Yom Tov!

 

Pursuit Of Peace

Sukkos

Posted on September 28, 2004 (5764) By Rabbi Shlomo Jarcaig | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

Sukkos

Pursuit Of Peace

By Rabbi Shlomo Jarcaig

 

Our daily evening prayers contain an interesting petition to the Almighty: “Spread over us the Succah of Your peace.” Our Sages explain that the Succah is representative of the six Clouds of Glory that surrounded and protected the Children of Israel throughout their travels in the wilderness. These clouds remained with them through the merit of Aaron,

the Kohen Gadol (High Priest). The attribute that Aaron epitomized was a lover and pursuer of peace. In what way does the Succah represent peace more than the other mitzvos (Divine commandments)? And what is the meaningful connection between Aaron’s loving and pursuing of peace and our observance of this mitzvah?

 

Rabbi Eliezer Dessler (1) explains that when we leave our houses and move into Succah booths for a week, we remind ourselves how little we really control our circumstances. By leaving the “security” of our brick and mortar homes and subjecting ourselves to the forces of nature, we are reminding ourselves that there is nothing given and absolute in the physical world. All of its structures and pleasures are temporal; only our Torah study and mitzvos have a lasting effect.

 

Our only true control is over the decisions we make in the situations in which we find ourselves.

This was Aaron’s unique trait. Aaron was chosen by G-d to be the High Priest, the Divine emissary to connect the Jewish people to G-d. Once the paradigm shifts and spirituality becomes the national priority, the realization soon follows that another’s spiritual growth is to my benefit. There is no room for jealousy beyond the physical world. With this achievement, peace is the natural byproduct.

 

Aaron chased after peace because he understood the “win-win”: everyone involved gained spiritually from the process, and the dividend was communal peace.

 

In our contemporary world of techno-gadgets, the lesson of the Succah is all the more essential to remind us of our limitations and enable our focus on our real priorities. With this may we merit the experience of genuine peace prevailing among us.

 

Have a Good Shabbos and a Good Yom Tov!