Who We Work For

Pesach

Posted on April 8, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

Halleluka…Servants of HASHEM, give praise; praise the name of HASHEM. (Tehillim 113:1) -from Hallel

 

Pesach is in the air! Everywhere people are working extra hard to be ready for the holy days of Pesach. Let us emphasize these words, “working hard”. For some reason it is one of those Yomim Tovim that no one can escape without “hard work”. Even if one is going to a hotel a lot of preparation and dislocation is involved. Why should it be so? It’s not for no reason!

 

Now I know this statement may sound shocking to our sensibilities but here it goes, “Slavery is not necessarily a bad thing!” We all know and agree that an abusive form of slavery is bad news, and everyone is repulsed by it. However, we refer to ourselves in Hallel as servants of HASHEM. It’s a part of Hallel, the utmost enthusiastic praise of HASHEM! It is not a mournful dirge! It would be our crown to be included in that rare club of servants of HASHEM. Moshe was called a servant of HASHEM. Yehoshuah was called a servant of HASHEM. Dovid HaMelelch is referred to as a servant of HASHEM. We aspire to be worthy of such a title. So, it sounds like being a servant, a slave is not only not a bad designation, it may just be the most noble.

 

Now let’s get this straight. Isn’t Pesach all about freedom? We commemorate and celebrate and relive our exodus from Egypt and our freedom from the tyrannic rule of Pharaoh. That’s the story we grew up with! Now at this advanced age I am coming to realize that that is only half the story.

 

What does it mean to be a servant/slave!? Your time is not your own. Your possessions are not your own. Your life is not your own. You must do many things that are not necessarily in agreement with a life of leisure. You are constantly being driven out of your comfort zone. You are being guided and yes controlled by an external force, a director, a boss.

 

There is a reason certain images from the world reach our eyes. They give us a way of reflecting on our situation. We have all seen the scenes of youth, most often, dressed in ways that betray their dignity. They wander about lost and drugs and violence become commonplace. I am being ginger here and circumspect, but I think we can all conjure up an image or ten million. Yet if one or a group of these same young people joins the military, or submits to a sports coach, or is involved in some religious training, their appearance and level of achievement is multiplied and amplified by the millions. What is the difference? A coach, a boss, G-d can shape a man into something he could never make out of himself.

 

This contrast is for our edification. We did not get out of Egypt 3333 years ago to just be free to do whatever we want to do. We actually only changed employers. Instead of working a cruel dictator that did not have out best interest mind and who bullied into submission forcing us to engage in futile labor just to break our hearts and souls, we willfully submit ourselves to HASHEM Who has demonstrated his concern for our ultimate well-being and Who encourages us to do actions that breath meaning into every step and every breath we take.

 

I am afraid that without a Rav, without a Shul, without a community, without Torah learning, without G-d any good and well-meaning Jew is at great risk of not only falling short of their potential but even becoming a hazard to himself and others, not unlike the wayward and destructive youth we referenced.

 

Great potential has a way of blossoming or imploding as Langston Hughes expressed in his poem, “What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore–And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over–like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode!?”

 

Reb Yeruchem Levovitz said that the main metric to measure the greatness of a Jew is, “How much of a Servant of G-d are they?” We all work for someone and fear someone and love someone. The question is who do we work for and fear and love?! On Pesach we became free to choose Who we fear and love and Who we work for!

 

 One Time, or Always?

Parshas Tzav

 Posted on April 8, 2025 (5785) By Rabbi Yisroel Ciner | Series: Parsha Insights | Level: Beginner Intermediate

 We are pretty funny creatures… We may long for something for an extended period of time. If we’ll finally obtain the desire of our longing our appreciation is relatively short lived. It’s mine now. Then, not only do we cease to feel appreciation for the gift we’ve received but we view it as inherently ours. Should it be taken away from us, we’re now way back where we started.

 We’re crushed. It was mine, I had it and it was taken away.

Let’s view things from a Torah perspective. 

The Kohen Gadol brings this offering every day because he must view every single day as the day that he was anointed. The fact that he held the position yesterday is no guarantee that he’ll hold it today. It’s not his. Each day is new. Each day is a gift. Each day he brings the offering of the day of his anointment.

 

The story is told of a king who ventured out into a nearby forest and came across a simple shepherd sitting on the ground with his bag on his back, playing a flute while his staff rested on his lap. After engaging him in a conversation and finding him to be exceptionally sharp, the king invited him to his palace where he would be trained as an advisor. The shepherd readily accepted the offer and came to the palace.

 

There his meteoric rise to prominence astonished everyone and within months he found himself in charge of the treasury (CFO). However, this didn’t go unnoticed by the other more senior advisors.

 

Their jealousy was aroused and they conspired to slander him to the king. “He’s stealing from the treasury,” they told the king. At first the king refused to believe them but after many repeated accusations he agreed to pay a surprise visit to his new advisor’s home and see if he was living above his means.

 

When they arrived at his house one morning for a surprise visit, they were indeed shocked at what they found. The house was the epitome of simple, modest dignity and cleared away any suspicion that he might have been embezzling from the treasury. As they were about to leave after having been given a ‘grand-tour’ of the premises, they noticed a locked room that hadn’t been opened. Their curiosity aroused, they asked to see what was inside but the advisor gently declined. When the children exclaimed that they too had never been admitted to that room they were sure that they had finally caught him. The king, losing patience and trust, angrily demanded that the door be opened.

 

Red-faced with embarrassment, the advisor slowly unlocked the door. A collective gasp came from the mouths of the onlookers as the door swung gently open. Before their eyes was a room, barren of any furniture, with only a flute, a staff and a course rucksack lying on the floor. They turned to the advisor for an explanation.

 

“From the day that I became an advisor to the king,” he explained, “I was afraid that I would become haughty and forget my humble beginnings. I therefore set up this room where, every morning, before I head to the palace, I put on my old rucksack, lay my staff across my lap and play my flute. I always remember that I am nothing but a simple shepherd, who has received great gifts from G-d and from the king.”

 

Every day a gift. Every day a responsibility. We can’t seek recreation while expecting and taking Hashem’s re-creation for granted.

 

Good Shabbos,