Not Enough Time

Parshas Vayeitzei

Posted on December 2, 2022 (5783) By Rabbi Yaakov Menken | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

This week’s reading provides what seems, in an initial, superficial view, to be a romantic account. When Yaakov (Jacob) sees Rachel, he gains superhuman strength, single-handedly rolling away the cover of a well, a stone that ordinarily took a team of shepherds to move, in order to water her father Lavan’s flock (Gen. 29:10). He kisses her, and, overwhelmed with emotion, he cries.

 

But when we look more deeply, we realize that some elements of the story don’t seem to fit.

 

Yaakov only approaches Rachel after he waters the flock, prioritizing the sheep over his intended bride. And later, when he and Lavan arrange that he will work for seven years for the privilege of marrying Lavan’s daughter, the Torah records that those seven years seemed to Yaakov “like individual days, due to his love for her” (29:20). Seven years passed by in a hurry, as if they were only a few days.

 

That, of course, is simply not how the story is supposed to go. When you are waiting for your wedding day, or any big event, you want the big day to arrive—a few days are more likely to feel like seven years than vice-versa. So any romantic tale would have had the protagonist at the limits of his endurance, agonizing over the time separated from his bride to be. Why, in reality, did Yaakov perceive the seven long years as if they were just a few days?

 

All of us have, at various points, prepared for tests. And we all know that when you aren’t done studying, the time remaining feels too short. We might have two weeks to prepare for finals, but they seem like just a few days if we don’t feel we know the material well enough.

 

Yaakov knew that he was going to become the third of the patriarchs. He had purchased the right of the firstborn, and received the blessings of his father. Now, he was going to marry his bride and begin building the Jewish nation. He spent those seven years preparing himself, working on himself. He was not merely waiting to be married, but preparing for a momentous opportunity and obligation. And that is why the years flew by.

 

The truth is that every parent should look at child-rearing as the tremendous opportunity and obligation that it actually is. Yaakov modeled this for us, simply with his attitude. To him, seven years of preparing for this critical role felt like a few days, as he prepared to be the father he was destined to be.

 

That Fallen Tree

Parshas Vayeitzei

Posted on December 2, 2022 (5783) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah| Level: Beginner

And Yaakov left Beer-Sheva, and he went to Charan. (Brieshis 28:10)

 

And Yaakov left: Scripture had only to write: “And Yaakov went to Charan.” Why did it mention his departure? But this tells [us] that the departure of a righteous man from a place makes an impression, for while the righteous man is in the city, he is its beauty, he is its splendor, he is its majesty. When he departs from there, its beauty has departed, its splendor has departed, its majesty has departed… Rashi

 

There seems to be an obvious oddity in this explanation of Rashi. Why is the departure of the Tzadik emphasized? Why not highlight and showcase the time that he was actually there? Let us try on a few approaches.

 

My visceral response to this question sends me way back to the old song by Joni Mitchel from so many years ago. Whatever she was singing about is one thing, and it may not be scripture but there may be a kernel of the eternal in her words. “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” There she said it.

 

Sometimes we only realize the value of someone or something when it is no longer. How often is that the case, with loved ones, health, youth, and many other transient aspects of life!? So, when the Tzadik leaves, the impression is felt. The citizens of that locale wake up to the realization of who they had in their midst.

 

The Talmud tells us about a fascinating conundrum, a spiritual law of life. If someone runs after honor then honor will run away from him, and if someone runs away from honor then honor will pursue him. Of course, there is the famous story of the person who came to his Rabbi with a question about the efficacy of this principle. He said, “Rabbi, all my life I am running from honor but honor never runs after me.” The Rabbi answered, “The problem is that you are busy looking over your shoulder to see if it’s running after you!” There is a requirement for authenticity in this arena. The Brisker Rav observed that in either case, it would seem that a person cannot get honor.

 

If he is chasing honor, it is running away and if he is running away from honor and it is chasing him, he keeps running away. He said that the answer is, the difference is after he passes from the world. If he was chasing it then it runs away leaving without a trace, without a memory. If he was fleeing from honor then after his life, when he cannot run away any more, then it will catch up with him.

 

How many great people have become even greater since their departure from this world!? King Solomon writes, “Pri Tzadik Eitz Chaim” – the fruit of the Tzadik is a tree of life. Some great people leave behind Seforim/Holy writings, and others leave a legacy of children, a living Torah dynasty of scholars and leaders, while others leave behind Yeshivas and Torah institutions that last in perpetuity. In a few rare cases there are those who leave behind all three.

 

In some very rare cases there are Tzadikim that leave behind none of the above but their greatness only grows after they are no more. One of the most visited places here in Monsey is the Kever of the Ribnitzer Rebbe. He had no children. He wrote no Seforim. He struggled to cobble together a Minyan. He built no institutions in his lifetime, but he served HASHEM and helped Jewish People with self-sacrifice and devotion beyond description. Yet now, decades later his grave has become the address for people seeking Yeshuos. The numbers and stories of results only grow. I pass by every day and I slow down, and I must, because there is so much traffic there.

 

Shraga Silverstein wrote in a book of original Musar aphorism entitled, “A Candle by Day” a phrase that caught my attention many years ago and I think it has direct application to this question of the Tzadik making an impression at the time of his departure from a place. He wrote, “It is easy to make your presence felt, but it is hard to make your absence felt!” Some can make noise and headlines like a huge storm and there’s a sense of relief when he has passed but rare is the individual who humbly does his job and only when he’s gone, people begin to realize the scope of the shade provided by and the true scale of that fallen tree.

 

 

Food For Thought

Parshas Toldos

Posted on November 16, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Yochanan Zweig | Series: Rabbi Zweig on the Parsha| Level: Intermediate Beginner

“Eisav came in from the field and he was exhausted” (25:29)

Rashi cites a Midrash which explains “ayeif” means that Eisav was tired after having committed murder, as we find the term “ayeif” – “exhausted” relating to murder elsewhere in the Torah.¹ Rashi generally follows the literal interpretation of the verse, relying on the Midrash only when it supports the simple reading. Where in the verse do we see that “tired” does not simply mean physically exhausted? Furthermore, why does the act of murder cause a state of exhaustion?

 

There are two ways in which one can be exhausted. A person can be either physically exhausted due to an expenditure of energy, or emotionally exhausted as a result of being involved in something that leaves him completely unfulfilled. A person who mans a store all day long, without any customers entering may be completely drained at the end of the day; this is not because of any physical strain, but because he did not accomplish anything.

 

Murder is an act which is completely destructive and cannot offer a person any true sense of accomplishment. Therefore, the Torah connects exhaustion to murder, for ultimately this is the feeling that the murderer experiences. What still must be resolved is the question of where in the verse Rashi sees that the exhaustion is an emotional one, rather than a physical one. The answer lies in the continuation of the narrative. Eisav comes home exhausted and requests to be fed. A person who is physically exhausted desires sleep, not food. Wanting to eat is very often a manifestation of emotional exhaustion. When a person feels emotionally unfulfilled, he looks for food to satisfy his craving for fulfillment.

The Search for Blessings

Parshas Toldos

Posted on November 16, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha| Level: Beginner

This week’s parsha begins the saga of the long, almost endless struggle between Yaakov and Esav. Yaakov buys the birthright from a hungry Esav and then, coached by his mother, Rivka, he dresses like Esav and receives blessings from his father Isaac.

 

I have received numerous letters throughout the years pondering those actions. Indeed, Yaakov himself is wary of acting in a seemingly devious manner and is reassured by his righteous mother who accepts full responsibility for his actions.

 

When Esav arrives for the blessings, his father tells him that his younger brother cleverly took all the blessings, but Esav, despondent as he may be declares to his father, “He (Jacob) took away my birthright and see, now he took away my blessing!” He adds, “Have you not reserved a blessing for me? Isaac answered, and said to Esau, “Behold, a lord have I made him over you, and all his kin have I given him as servants; with grain and wine have I supported him, and for you, where — what can I do, my son?”. And Esau said to his father, “Have you but one blessing, Father? Bless me too, Father!” And Esau raised his voice and wept. (Genesis 27:36-38).

 

I often wondered about the lesson of this repartee. Esav, clearly angered by Yaakov’s cunning, still has clarity of mind to ask for a blessing. Yitzchak seems to demur, inferring that there is nothing left. But Esav prevails by pleading, even crying for a blessing. And only then does his father acquiesce and bless him as well.

 

Was there a blessing left or not? Can pleading with the saintly patriarch produce a previously non-extant blessing? Maybe Esav’s tears taught a lesson even for the children of Yaakov?

 

In the summer of 2001 30,000 Boy Scouts joined together in Virginia for a national Boy Scout Jamboree. Among the myriad groups of scouts who attend this event that occurs every four years are many Jewish Scouts as well. Mike Paretsky, a Vice Chairman of the GNYC Jewish Committee on scouting, was the kosher food liaison to the jamboree. Special food was ordered from O’Fishel caterers of Baltimore, so that the Jewish scouts would be able to nourish their bodies as well.

 

One of the scoutmasters, a Jewish man caught a glimpse of the kosher offerings. He had never eaten a kosher meal in his life, yet when he saw the special meals, something stirred. He and his troops were being served pork-this and bacon-that for breakfast, lunch and supper, and all of a sudden this man decided he was sick of the monotonous treif stuff. He wanted to eat kosher. Scoutmaster Paretsky gladly let him partake in a meal, but that was not enough for the fellow. The man decided to keep kosher during the entire jamboree!

 

Mr. Paretsky agreed to accommodate the neophyte kosherphile, but a skeptic approached him.

 

“Mike,” he said, “why are you wasting your kosher food on this fellow? He is not going to eat kosher after this is over, and he observes absolutely nothing! Why waste the food on him?”

 

Mike answered with an amazing story of the Chofetz Chaim. When Russian soldiers entered the town of Radin, Jewish townsfolk prepared kosher meals for the Jewish soldiers in the Czar’s army. Soon their acts of charity seemed to fly in their face as they saw the soldiers devour the food and then stand on line to receive the forbidden Russian rations.

 

When they complained to the Chofetz Chaim and threatened to stop preparing kosher food, he reflected with an insight that must be passed on to generations.

 

“Every mitzvah that a Jew does, every good deed and every bit of kosher that he eats is not a fleeting act. It is an eternity. No matter what precedes or ensues, we must cherish each proper action of a Jew.”

 

The wayward son, Esav is at first told by his father that there are no blessings. But he cries bitterly and cannot fathom that fact. “Is there nothing left?” He asks. It cannot be. And he was right. There is always some blessing left to be found. No matter how far one has strayed, no matter how bleak a situation looks. There is always blessing. We must pursue it, even cry for it, and when we receive the tiniest blessing it may seem trivial, even fleeting, but it is with us for eternity.

 

 

All the Good that Was Done

Parshas Chayei Sarah

Posted on November 10, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah| Level: Beginner

…and Avraham came to eulogize Sarah and to cry for her. And Abraham arose from before his dead, and he spoke to the sons of Heth, saying, “I am a stranger and an inhabitant with you. Give me burial property with you, so that I may bury my dead from before me.” (Breishis 23: 3-4)

 

To eulogize Sarah and to cry for her: The account of Sarah’s demise was juxtaposed to the binding of Yitzchok because as a result of the news of the “binding,” that her son was prepared for slaughter and was almost slaughtered, her soul flew out of her, and she died. — Rashi

Avraham Avinu endured ten great tests in his lifetime and most probably millions of micro tests as well. Most everyone agrees, however, that the height of heights, the test of all tests, was when Avraham was told to bring his son, his only son, the son he loved, Yitzchok to be brought up for an offering at the Akeida. Yet, Rabeinu Yona counts the purchase of a burial plot for Sarah as the 10th test. How is anything a test after the Akeida?

 

A little more than a week ago I was invited to speak at a meeting of local Rabbanim who were gathering to lend support and encouragement to the county DA that was up for election, Mr. Tom Walsh. He was visibly shaken up because he had taken a principled position in favor of a Jew that some other local authorities desperately wanted to make an example of. Since making his unpopular decision he and his staff were subjected to intimidation and threats. This was all very new and uncomfortable for him. I think they asked me to speak because they felt I could relate to this old Irishman best with my all-American background. It comes in handy once in a while.

 

I told him, “Tom, I want to speak a language that I don’t think the Rabanim here will understand, but you will. I would like to tell you about one of my greatest heroes. He was most famous for what he didn’t do. At the turn of the century Sport Illustrated crowned him the athlete of the century. He was disproportionately more successful in his game than any other athlete in their sport. A Jewish boy, a baseball pitcher for the Brooklyn and Los Angeles Dodgers, Sandy Koufax.

 

In 1965 he didn’t pitch in the 1st game of the world series which fell on the holiest of days, Yom Kippur.

 

In spite of all his athletic accomplishments, when you look him up on Wikipedia already in the 2nd line it is written that he didn’t pitch in the 1st game of the world series in 1965 because it fell out on Yom Kippur. His behavior sent a shockwave down the spine of the Jewish people and the entire world. He delivered a message, “There is something more important than baseball”. I was also an aspiring baseball pitcher and this stirred around within me for a long time and made a huge difference in my life. You can only imagine the pushback and heat he took from teammates and management and fans. Some people, the Talmud tells us, acquire their entire world in one move. I don’t know what else he did with his life but this single deed will stand out forever.

 

Mr. Walsh, Tom, by taking a principled stance and doing what is just and right, you are now facing the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and I know it’s not easy. What you did sent a shockwave across Rockland County and delivered a message that, “There is something more important than politics”. Some people earn their entire world in one move. I want you to do me a favor, Mr. Walsh and that is, please do not regret for a moment what you have done. You have a giant diamond. It is priceless. The more you struggle because of what you did, the more valuable that diamond becomes. You have something more than the endorsement of these Rabbanim and the Jewish community. You have a blessing from the Creator of Heaven and Earth!”

 

Why did I ask him not to regret what he did? The Rambam writes that just as someone can erase a sin with regret, so too a person can erase a Mitzvah with regret. A wealthy businessman once told me that he knows someone who gave away tens of millions of dollars to Tzedaka and then his fortunes reversed. He heard a little voice chirping in his head saying, “If only you had not given away all that money you would have plenty now!” He shouted at that voice, “QUIET!”

 

He never gave it another thought. It would not bring his money back but it might erase the merit of all he had achieved. So it was that Avraham lost Sarah because of the Akeida, Rashi tells us. He had to tell that voice chirping in his head, “QUIET!” Sadness won’t bring Sarah back and regret may undo all the good that was done!

 

Be a Window Not a Pane

Parshas Chayei Sarah

Posted on November 18, 2022 (5783) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah| Level: Beginner

 And [food] was set before him to eat, but he said, “I will not eat until I have spoken my words.”

 

And he said, “Speak. “And he said, “I am a servant of Avraham!” (Breishis 24:33-34)

This is one of the most remarkable accounts in the entire Torah. Rashi says it all when the Torah begins to record Eliezer’s repetition of the narrative we just read about. “Rabbi Acha said:

 

The ordinary conversation of the servants of the Patriarchs is more beloved before the Omnipresent than the Torah of their sons, for the section dealing with Eliezer is repeated in the Torah, whereas many fundamentals of the Torah were given only through allusions.” Yes, Eliezer gets more airtime in the Torah than almost anybody else. How is that possible? Why is that so? What are we to learn from the fact that this man whom Avraham deemed unworthy to have his daughter marry Yitzchok, is still so revered in the Torah?! Eliezer was from a cursed lineage. He would have been voted in his high school class least likely to be featured in the Holy Torah and yet here he is dominating the stage. What is this all about!? What do we learn!?

 

One important factor here is revealed by the fact that Eliezer’s name is not mentioned even once in the entire episode. He only refers to himself as the servant of Avraham. This is the summary of his identity. He is not playing the role of himself. He is not acting as the authentic man expressing his raw feelings and doing what he pleases. Just the opposite is true.

 

He has totally quieted and subdued his ego and sublimated his own wishes to his master, Avraham. He is a messenger and a loyal extension of Avraham. It is as if we are watching and listening to Avraham. He has made himself into a vessel to accomplish only what Avraham wants. Eliezer himself is almost non-existent and by choice he has rendered his own personal agenda worthless in comparison to Avraham’s mission. He is such a big hero because he has made himself into a zero!

 

Years ago, I was asked to be a master of ceremonies – MC at a Yeshiva Dinner. It’s not my flavor or style at all and neither am I comfortable as a guest speaker at these types of gatherings. I would rather be eating chicken and listening to other people and even write a check just to avoid that stage. In this case I could not say “no” and so under duress I agreed.

 

I reviewed and studied my role as the MC and in my opening marks I declared, “The job of the MC is to be a window and not a pane, to allow the light of the main featured speakers to shine through. I’m not sure I succeeded but at least I understood where there was room for me to fail. What is most memorable and helpful to me is that definition of that definition of an MC. Be a window and not a pane/pain!

 

That’s what it means to be an Eved – a Servant, and an Eved HASHEM a Servant of HASHEM. Reb Yeruchem Levovitz writes in one of his Mussar Essays on Pesach that the measure of a Jew, the truest indicator of his greatness, is how big of an Eved HASHEM he is. The Jewish People did not exit Mitzraim to become free. That is less than half the story. We became available to become servants of HASHEM.

 

Eliezer was from that segment of Noach’s children that was cursed that they would be servants.

 

It’s not a pure curse and a punishment. It’s a recommendation for a cure. They would need guidance and coaching to shape them from without. Left to their own devices they would tend to self-destructive and antisocial behaviors. With proper training and an infusion of strong moral values they can be polished and formed into disciplined, marine-like soldiers and reliable citizens. Without a regimen, in the absence of a serious system of training, they will likely disassemble and backslide into disrepair and despair.

 

Not only does HE require that structure, a teacher, a community, a Torah, a G-d, we the Jewish People need it even more so. Without it, we are at great risk and so is the world around us. That is also evident! With those features in place, our substance has true form. We stand a chance of being a blessing as Avraham was promised. It’s not a birthright as much as it is a birth opportunity.

 

How do we do this? Simple as a dimple! The Ramchal writes in Derech Etz Chaim that a person should take some time each day to contemplate what Avraham and Moshe and Dovid did to attract the attention of HASHEM. What did Eliezer do? He made himself a zero. He did his job.

 

He made himself into a window to allow the light of Avraham to shine through and so our job is to become a window, to polish that window, and to allow the light of HASHEM to shine through us to the whole world. Be a window not a pane!

 

The Completion of Life

Parshas Chayei Sarah

Posted on November 8, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

Sleek sports cars, trendy clothing, hip hairstyles. So many middle aged and even old people are pre-occupied with these things, trying to make themselves look young and up-to-the-minute.

 

Why has old age come to be perceived in modern-day society as a liability? Why are fifty-year-olds considered over-the-hill? Surely, most middle-aged people, if given the choice, want to exchange places with a teenager. The quality of their lives is usually far superior to that of a teenager. It would seem obvious that these people are not really seeking youth, only the appearance of youth. But again, why should they want to delude themselves in this way?

 

Let us focus on the opening verse of this week’s parshah, which is called Chayei Sarah, the Lifetime of Sarah. The Torah begins by telling us that Sarah lived for one hundred and twenty-seven years and follows immediately with an account of Sarah’s death. Why then is the parshah called the “Lifetime” of Sarah?

 

The answer goes to the heart of the Torah’s perspective on time. Unfortunately, many of us have been conditioned to view time as an adversary. We look in the mirror and see a gray hair, and suddenly we feel panic. We are getting old! As the birthdays pile up into the higher numbers, they start to bring feelings of depression rather than joy. Some of us even lie about our ages. Why? Because we feel we are losing something, that our grip on this wonderful thing called life is slipping away. And so we devise all sorts of clever schemes and stratagems to escape the tick of the clock. But whether or not we listen, the clock never ceases to tick.

 

In the view of the Torah, however, time is infinitely precious, and each moment has enormous value for itself. Life is a long progression of small units of time which are infused with value by the experience of living itself – by the wisdom we gain, the people whose lives we enrich, the spiritual growth we achieve. The Torah encourages us to do the best we can with these precious moments of our lives, to fashion them into jewels and ornaments to carry with us forever. Death is not the destruction of life. It is the completion of life.

 

A beachcomber once went down to the shore at the break of dawn, carrying an empty sack over his shoulder. For hours, he picked through the flotsam and jetsam that had washed up onto the beach, filling his sack with pretty seashells and anything else of value he could find. The sun beat down on him mercilessly, but he continued to work. By early afternoon, his sack was full. He was thoroughly exhausted but satisfied.

 

As he set off for home, he met a newly-arrived beachcomber carrying an empty sack. The newcomer looked at the first beachcomber and sneered.

“Look at you!” he said. “Your face is red. Your hair is matted. Your clothes are soaked with sweat. You are bent over like an old man. And look at me! I am fresh as a cucumber. Wouldn’t you love to exchange places with me?”

 

“Are you kidding?” the first beachcomber replied. “Didn’t you notice the full sack on my shoulder? If I changed places with you, I would have to start all over again filling that empty sack of yours. How would I be better off?”

 

This is the Torah’s perspective. Life has a destination and goals, things to be accomplished, growth to be achieved. Therefore, age rather youth must be valued. The Torah commands us, “You must stand up before the elderly.” The elderly, regardless of scholarship and piety, are laden with valuables, while the “sacks” of the young are still empty. Each year of life yields wisdom and experience that the most accomplished young person cannot possibly attain. It is true that youth is bursting with strength and vigor, but a person’s worth is not to be measured by physical endowments. The body is but an accessory of the soul, and the spiritual growth of old age enriches the soul.

 

Our matriarch Sarah lived with this perspective. Every moment was molded with loving care into a precious jewel to be carried with her – and to be enjoyed by her descendants – for all eternity. In this light, her death marked the completion of her journey and the full illumination of the “Lifetime of Sarah.”

 

If we integrate these ideas into our own lives, we will find that we have much more happiness – and much more time. We must give value and meaning to the years we spend on this earth, filling them with honesty, integrity, love, kindness, study and spirituality. Let us learn to appreciate the value of life. Let us be the beneficiaries of Sarah’s legacy – to live a lifetime.

 

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

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

 

 

 

Blessing In Disguise

Parshas Vayera

Posted on November 4, 2020 (5781) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha| Level: Beginner

In Pashas Vayera, Sora, the 90-year-old wife of Avraham, receives a most surprising piece of information from an even more surprising source. She is told by Arab nomads, who had found obliging accommodation in Avraham’s house, that in one year she will have a child. Instinctively, she reacts in disbelief to this prediction. She laughs.

 

Immediately, Hashem appears to Avraham He is upset. “Why did Sora laugh? Is there something that is beyond the Almighty? At the appointed time I shall return and behold Sora will have a son (Genesis 18:12-13).

 

Hashem’s ire must be explained. After all, Sora was not told by Hashem that she will have a baby. She was informed by what appeared to be Arab wanderers. And though the Talmud explains that the three nomads were indeed angels sent by the Almighty, they did not identify themselves as such. So, what does G-d want from Sora?

 

A man once entered the small study of the revered the Steipler Gaon, Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievski with a plea. “I’d like a blessing from the Rav. My daughter has been looking to get married for several years. All her friends are married and she would like to get married too, but nothing is working. Can the Rosh Yeshiva bless her to find her bashert? (appropriate one),” he asked.

 

The Steipler turned to the man and asked, “Is this your first daughter?”

 

“No,” replied the distraught parent, “Why do you ask?”

 

“When she was born did you celebrate with a kiddush?” ( a celebratory party in a religious setting)

 

The man was perplexed. “No. But, that was 27 years ago,” he stammerred, “and she was my third girl. I may have made a l’chayim while the minyan was leaving shul, but I never made a proper kiddush. But what does a missed kiddush 27 years ago have to do with my daughter’s shidduch (match) today?”

 

“When one makes a kiddush at a festive occasions,” explained Rav Kanievski, ” each l’chayim he receives is accompanied by myriad blessings. Some are from friends, others from relatives, and those blessings given by total strangers.

 

Among those blessings are definitely the perfunctory wishes for an easy time in getting married. By not making a kiddush for your daughter, how many blessings did you deprive her of? I suggest you make your daughter the kiddush that she never had.”

The man followed the advice, and sure enough within weeks after the kiddush the girl had met her mate.

 

At the bris (circumcision) of his first son (after ten girls), my uncle, Rabbi Dovid Speigel, the Ostrove-Kalushin Rebbe of Cedarhurst, Long Island, quoted the Ramban (Nachmanides) in this week’s portion.

 

The reason that Hashem was upset at Sora was that even if an Arab nomad gives the blessing, one must be duly vigilant to respond, “Amen.” One never knows the true vehicle of blessing and salvation. Hashem has many conduits and messengers. Some of those messengers’ divinity is inversely proportional to their appearance.

 

What we have to do is wait, listen, and pray that our prospective exalter is the carrier of the true blessing. And then, we have to believe.

 

Quite often, we have ample opportunities to be blessed. Whether it is from the aunt who offers her graces at a family gathering or the simple beggar standing outside a doorway on a freezing winter day, blessings always come our way. Sometimes they come from the co-worker who cheers you on at the end of a long day or the mail carrier who greets you with the perfunctory “have a nice day” as he brings today’s tidings. Each blessing is an opportunity that knocks. And each acknowledgment and look to heaven may open the door to great salvation. The only thing left for us to do is let those blessings in.

 

Good Shabbos.

 

First Impressions

Parshas Vayera

Posted on November 13, 2019 (5780) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

It is a blistering hot day. Abraham, that paragon of hospitality, is sitting by the door anxiously looking for passersby that he can invite into his home. Suddenly, he sees three dust-covered desert nomads trudging down the road. Before he brings them into his house, Abraham asks them to wash their feet, because he suspects they might be pagans who worship the dust of their feet. Then he feeds them lavishly.

 

Before they leave, the travelers, really angels in disguise, inform Abraham that Sarah would give birth in a year. Sarah overhears and bursts into laughter. After all, Abraham is one hundred years and she herself is a sprightly ninety, not exactly the height of the child-bearing years.

 

The Almighty, however, does not consider the situation humorous. He asks Abraham why Sarah found this a laughing matter, and Abraham, in turn, rebukes Sarah for laughing.

 

Let us consider for a moment. What had Sarah done wrong? After all, she did not know that the dusty wayfarers were really angels. Why then should she have thought that their blessings were efficacious? Can she be blamed for finding the fanciful good wishes of these wayfarers laughable?

 

The commentators explain that Sarah might indeed not have known that the wayfarers blessing her were angels, and this was exactly the reason she deserved to be reprimanded. She saw before her people who dressed differently, spoke differently, thought differently, and therefore, she looked down on them. She did not consider the blessings of such people worthwhile.

 

But how could she judge who is worthy and who is not? How could she know what lay within the hearts and souls of other people? How could she determine their inner value?

 

This was the reason Sarah was reprimanded. She took one look at these dusty wayfarers and instantly jumped to the conclusion that they were worthless people whose blessings were equally worthless.

 

A young man approached the stately house and knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked again. Still no response.

 

Suddenly, he heard a hoarse voice speak. “What are you doing here, young fellow?”

 

He turned and saw an old man dressed in tramp’s rags sitting on the ground, his back against the wall. He had not noticed him before.

 

“I’ve come to see the great sage, old man,” the young man replied. “I want to become his disciple and learn from his knowledge and wisdom.”

 

“Hah!” said the tramp. “He doesn’t have so much knowledge, and he has even less wisdom.”

 

“How dare you?” the young man replied in a flash of anger. “What does a person like you know about knowledge and wisdom?” He turned back to the door and resumed knocking. Still no response.

 

The following day, the young man returned. His knock was answered by a servant who showed him into the presence of the sage. Amazingly, the sage seemed to be the identical twin of the beggar.

 

“You recognize me, don’t you?” said the sage, “I was the man sitting on the ground. I am afraid I cannot accept you as my disciple.”

 

“But why?” the young man asked plaintively. “How was I to know it was really you?”

 

“You saw a man,” said the sage, “and based on his outward appearance you decided that he could now nothing about knowledge or wisdom. You can never be a disciple of mine.”

 

In our own lives, we are called upon to make value judgments about other people all the time.

 

Whether it is in a business, social or any other setting, we tend to jump to conclusions about new people. We rely on first impressions. We look at their clothing, their accessories, their bearing, their air of sophistication or lack of it, and we make assumptions about their intelligence, character, talents and social standing. First impressions are certainly important, and we should always try to make a good first impression on others. Nonetheless, it is unfair to pigeonhole and stereotype people on the basis of external appearance. Appearances can be deceiving, and we could be missing out on some very fine blessings.

 

A Next-Level Approach

Parshas Vayera

Posted on November 14, 2022 (5783) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

We are keenly aware of many levels of communication and connection with others. Broadly speaking, the closest level of connection, of course, is when we converse face-to-face. But we can also communicate via video, on the phone, and through the written word. I’m not sure where carrier pigeons and smoke signals used to fit within that spectrum.

 

When we converse with G-d, there are also various levels of communication, and we would presume that prophecy offers the deepest of those connections. What about conversation through prayer?

 

The Torah portion this week is called “Vayera” – and He appeared. That is to say, G-d appeared to Abraham when he was recovering from his circumcision at 99 years old. The portion continues with the story of Abraham’s hospitality with his three visitors, and the messages they relayed to Abraham and Sarah. As the guests depart and the narrative segues into Abraham’s appeal on behalf of Sodom, the story refers back to G-d’s revelation to Abraham: “And Abraham was still standing in front of G-d. And Abraham approached and said… (Genesis 18:22-23)” In the midst of his prophecy with G-d, Abraham approached still further. He moved closer to G-d to pray for Sodom.

 

This is curious, for if Abraham was already in the midst of a prophecy with G-d, why did he need to move closer for prayer? From this we can learn that although prayer is an entirely different type of communication with G-d, it is an even closer, more intimate form of communication than even prophecy. Prophecy is reserved for those uniquely righteous individuals that grew to the heights of spirituality to merit a personal message from G-d. Yet the deepest level of connection and communication with The Divine is prayer, something to which we all have access. (Based on Sefer Tiferes Shimshon, Rabbi Shimshon Pincus ztl, quoting Rabbi Aaron Leib Shteinman ztl)

 

One of my son’s Hebrew teachers was teaching his second grade class about prayer and in the middle of his lesson he pulled out his cellphone and dialed the White House. “Good morning,” he said, “Can I please speak to the President of the United States?” The receptionist responded, “I’m sorry, but the president is not available now. Please hold to leave him a message.” The teacher said “That’s ok, thank you,” and hung up the phone. He then said to his class, “When I call to speak to the president, he’s not available, but when you call for G-d, He’s always available to speak to.”

Speaking to G-d in prayer is an honor we always have, but that should not undervalue its significance. May we all seize this special opportunity to deepen our relationship with Him, and may He respond with blessing, success, and good health for all of us.