Pursuit Of Peace

Sukkos

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!

 

(1) in Michtav Me’Eliyahu, his collected writings and discourses; 1891- 1954; of London and B’nai Brak, one of the outstanding personalities and thinkers of the Mussar movement

Here's an excerpt from a longer parsha I thought was a good summary of the cycle on the calendar we've been through recently ....

Autumn marks the entry to the darker, colder days of winter. But autumn is not only a time of harvest; it is also a time to plant that which will bloom in the coming spring. We know that the physical realm is really a reflection of the spiritual. With Simchas Torah we culminate the sowing of these last thirteen weeks. The Three Weeks, Tisha B’Av, the four weeks of Elul, Rosh HaShanah, the ten days of return, Yom Kippur, Succos and Simchas Torah have been months invested with contemplation, invigoration and commitment to make this new cycle one of development and progress in our spiritual growth.

 

To be sure, there will be challenges to our resolve, times that are “dark and cold”. But we are secure with the confidence that G-d rewards human efforts with the daily gifts called “the course of nature” and these presents are forthcoming for our spiritual sustenance as well as our physical. We will have our successes – some “miraculous”, some “natural”. But come next spring, when Pesach brings the cycle of holidays that celebrate a new harvest of spiritual bounty, we will recall these days of planting and humbly rejoice in the Divine presents each day brings.

 

Good Shabbos and Good Yom Tov!

 

Open Door Policy

Parshas Haazinu

Posted on October 2, 2024 (5784) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

They are among the most stirring words in the Torah. In vermilion verse, Moses calls upon heaven and earth to bear witness to the poetic image he is about to conjure of Hashem’s awesome majesty and His special relationship with the Jewish people. The Song of Moses, which we read in this week’s portion, is a stunning eulogy characterized by sharp rebuke but also glorious hope.

 

Towards the beginning of his Song, Moses inserts an enigmatic cue for the Jewish people. “As I call out the Name of Hashem, declare the greatness of our Lord!” These are very puzzling lines.

 

Since the entire Song is a declaration of Hashem’s greatness, what exactly was he asking the people to contribute? Furthermore, why does Moses calling out Hashem’s Name trigger the Jewish declaration of Hashem’s greatness?

 

Let us look for a moment into the first portion of the Torah, which we will be reading in just a few weeks. After the serpent subverts Adam and Eve and causes then to be expelled from the Garden of Eden, Hashem curses him, “And you shall eat dust all the days of your life.”

 

The commentators wonder: How severe can this curse be if it assures the serpent of a plentiful supply of food at all times? This exactly is the essence of the curse. the commentators explain.

 

Man, who must struggle for his sustenance, is always calling out to the Creator for help and support, and as a result, man’s very needs provide him with the transcendent rewards of a relationship with Him. The serpent, however, was given everything he would ever need and cast aside, without any prospect of enjoying a spiritual relationship with Hashem.

 

This is what Moses was saying to the Jewish people. When they hear him call out the Name of Hashem, when they realize how immensely privileged they are in that they can always call out to Hashem, that they can raise themselves up spiritually by connecting with Him, then they should declare Hashem’s greatness. For surely this precious gift, the opportunity for mortal man to bond with the divine, is one of the greatest kindnesses that He has ever bestowed upon his people.

 

A king was very displeased with the behavior of one of his sons. Despite being warned many times, the young prince persisted in his profligate ways, and presently, the king could no longer tolerate the situation. With a heavy heart, he banished the prince to a distant province and decreed that he live the rest of his life as a commoner, without any of the privileges of royalty.

 

On the day the prince was to leave the palace, the king came into his room and handed him a tiny sealed box.

 

“Take this, my son,” he said. “Although you are banished from the palace, this box may help you in times of most dire need.”

 

Years passed. The prince managed to survive without the protective cocoon of privilege, but not with exceedingly great difficulty. In the hardest of times, however, he knew in the back of his mind that when all else failed he could break open the sealed box and use the riches it contained.

 

One time, he was in such a desperate situation that he had no choice but to open the box. He fully expected to find it filled with diamonds, but to his surprise, it contained a piece of paper folded over many times.

 

With trembling hands, he unfolded the paper and read it. Then he burst into tears. It was a letter from the king allowing the banished prince to enter the palace and present any request directly to the king. This letter, the prince realized, was a more precious gift than a boxful of the finest jewels.

 

In our own lives, when we stand before Hashem and pour out our hearts in prayer, it is important for us to realize that the very act of prayer is its own reward, that the relationship we form with Hashem through intense spiritual communication is far more important than many of the things for which we pray. Hopefully, during this season of hope and prayer, Hashem will grant us all long life, health, prosperity and joy. But it’s important to remember that even before all these blessings are delivered to our doorsteps, we have already been immeasurably enriched through the very act of prayer.

 

Text Copyright &copy 2007 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Humble Beginnings

 

Parshas Haazinu

Posted on September 13, 2023 (5783) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

 

This week, Moshe composes the song of Ha’azinu. It is a hauntingly prophetic piece replete with predictions and admonitions. It extols the virtues of Israel and forewarns them of a perilous future, if they disobey the Torah. He finishes the song, standing side by side with his disciple Yehoshua, as he prepares to transfer the mantle of leadership. Deuteronomy 32:34: “Moshe came and spoke all the words of this song in the ears of the people, he and Hoshea the son of Nun.”

 

Moshe equates his own stature with that of his student in order to show the world his high regard for the future leader to whom he had entrusted his people. Yet there is something strange. Yehoshua is not referred to by the regal name that Moshe had long since given him; rather he is called Hoshea. Before the hazardous mission of the spies forty years prior, Moshe added the Hebrew letter yud to Hoshea’s name. The yud represented the name of Hashem and served to protect Hoshea from the malicious intent of the slanderous spies.

 

From that day on, Hoshea is always referred to as Yehoshua.

 

Why then at the height of Yehoshua’s career, on the day he is to take over the reign of power, does the Torah refer to him as Hoshea? Is the Torah surreptitiously diminishing his stature? Isn’t that exactly what the Torah would like to avoid?

 

On April 12, 1945, Vice-President Harry S. Truman was summoned to the White House. He was shown to the sitting room of the First Lady, Eleanor Roosevelt. Gently, she told him that President Roosevelt was dead.

 

After a few moments of stunned silence, Mr. Truman composed himself and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you, Mrs. Roosevelt?”

 

The First Lady shook her head. “Is there anything we can do for you? For you are the one who is in trouble now.”

 

Perhaps Yehoshua’s crowning moment was also meant to be quite sobering. He was made to realize that the force behind his greatness would no longer be with him. The man who had crowned him with the glory of G-d’s name was joining the Creator, leaving Yehoshua alone and diminished. He was now just Hoshea.

 

It was now up to Yehoshua to remember from whence his greatness came. Often, we bask in the spotlight of greatness and expect to glow when the radiance is turned off.

 

Unfortunately, we are not made of phosphorous. The time comes when our light must shine from within our own selves. Sure, enough from that moment on, Hoshea shines as Yehoshua.

 

Given the task we will shine too.

 

 

Mordechai Kamenetzky – Yeshiva of South Shore

Good Shabbos

 

 

The Ultimate Contact

Parshas Haazinu

Posted on October 1, 2025 (5786) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

The Ultimate Contact Never give up hope. No matter how bleak your plight may seem, do not allow yourself to surrender to despair. This is what we are told. This is what we tell others. This is what we believe. Hope springs eternal in the human heart.

 

In this week’s Torah reading, however, we find an altogether different perspective. On the last day of his life, Moses addresses an evocative poem replete with metaphors and allusions to the Jewish people. With broad strokes, he presents a sweeping view of the past and a searing vision of the future. When will Hashem bring an end to the suffering of His people? He tells them.

 

When the power of their enemies spreads uncontrollably and no one can withstand the onslaught.

 

What does this mean? The Talmud provides the answer. It is a reference to the Messianic era.

 

Moses is prophesying that the Messiah will come when then Jewish people abandon all hope of redemption, when they despair of salvation.

 

The commentators are mystified. Why is despair a prerequisite for redemption? Yearning for the arrival of the Messiah is one of the central tenets of Judaism. If so, why does the Talmud contend that this yearning must be forgotten before the Messiah can come?

 

The commentators explain that the yearning for the ultimate redemption must indeed remain strong and vital among the Jewish people without any interruption. The Talmud, however, is addressing a different brand of hope. What is our first reaction when we face an anti- Semitic crisis? Do we turn toward Hashem and plead with Him to save us? Or do we consider other avenues? Do we mobilize our military forces, if we have any? Do we bring all our political and diplomatic influence to bear? Do we flex our financial muscles? Do we call upon the press and the media to help us?

 

This then is the hopelessness that will hasten our redemption. First, we must recognize the utter futility of self-reliance. We must despair of solving our problems on our own. Only then will we turn to Hashem with absolute trust and faith in Him as the sole Source of salvation. Only then will we deserve to be redeemed.

 

A great sage was sitting in his room, immersed in a pile of holy books. Just then a distraught woman burst through the door and planted herself in front of him.

 

“You must help me!” she wailed as tears ran down her cheeks. “My husband is desperately ill.”

“Come back tomorrow,” said the sage.

 

“Tomorrow?” she shrieked. “I can’t wait until tomorrow. He may be dead by tomorrow. I need your help now!”

 

“If you insist,” said the sage. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips. After two minutes of silence, he opened his eyes. The woman looked at him with breathless expectation.

 

“I’m very sorry,” he said. “I can do nothing for your husband.”

 

The woman went deathly pale. She clutched her head and screamed, “Lord in Heaven! Help me! I am lost. Even the holy sage cannot help me. Only You can save my husband. Please! I beg of you!”

 

Then she collapsed into a chair, her body wracked by wrenching sobs.

 

“Go home in peace, my child,” said the sage. “Your prayers will be answered. As long as you placed your trust in me, there was no hope. But the hopelessness in your heart led you to our Father in Heaven. He is the only One who can give you what you need.”

 

In our own lives, as we strive for financial and professional achievement, how often do we think to ourselves that the key to success lies in contacts, marketing or other stratagems? But that is not really true. No matter how hard we work or plan or scheme, Hashem can wipe it all away with a flick of His figurative wrist. So, what are we supposed to do? Of course, we need to make our best efforts, to go after the contacts and the marketing and whatever else seems to be indicated. But we must always keep in mind that Hashem controls the world, and if we’re looking for contacts, He is undoubtedly the Ultimate Contact.

 

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

 

The Power of Bad Habits

Parshas Haazinu

Yom Kippur

Posted on September 21, 2023 (5784) By Rabbi Yaakov Menken | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

“Is this the way you pay Hashem back, foolish nation and unwise…” [Deut. 32:6].

 

The Talmud teaches (Tamid 32b) “Who is wise? The one who sees the future.” This is not a reference to prophecy but to the ability to see the predictable consequences of our actions.

 

One who can perceive these consequences will not be foolish, and thus calling the nation “foolish” and “unwise” are interdependent. The Talmud also says (Sukkah 52a) that at the end of days, G-d will present us with the Yetzer Hara, the Evil Incliination, and destroy it in front of the righteous and the wicked. And, says the Talmud, to the righteous the Evil Inclination will look like a mountain, but to the wicked, it will look like a hair’s breadth, a tiny thing. But how can it be both? How can it appear so different to two groups of people, yet be one and the same?

 

Rav Y.Y. Horwitz, the “Alter [Elder] of Novardok,” said that it is indeed a mountain, built of tiny hair’s breadths! Think of a spider’s web. A single thread is very fine and easy to brush aside or break. But when a fly gets stuck in a spider’s web, the spider surrounds it with layer upon layer of silken thread, until it is impossible to break free or even move.

 

The first time a person does a bad thing, he feels it intensely, and it is easy to stop. But if it becomes a habit, then it becomes much harder to break. [From VeHigadtah, collected teachings of Rav Yaakov Galinsky.]

 

We see this with addictions, like smoking: the first time a person smokes, he or she coughs, doesn’t enjoy it, and can easily stop. But once they master it and feel the nicotine, it is much, much harder to give it up.

 

The truth is that doing something bad can give its own mental rush. Initially, the person will feel alarmed, but can become inured to it, and have it become a habit. The key is to see the future and not get caught from the outset.

 

Yom Kippur, however, is when Hashem is “closest” to us, when we have a special power to break free of our bad habits and to approach Him. If we are wise, we will see and seize this opportunity, to free ourselves of those bad habits for the new year.

 

May Hashem help us to take full advantage of this opportunity, and may all be sealed in the Book of Life for a blessed year.

 

The Counsel of My Heart

Parshas Netzavim

 

Posted on September 23, 2019 (5780) By Torah.org | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

Our reading this week contains an extraordinary passage, one which is very relevant for the upcoming High Holy Days. Moshe gathers the Nation of Israel together and describes to them a truly unforgivable sin. It is so terrible that “Hashem will not be willing to forgive him, but Hashem’s anger and jealousy will be kindled against him…” [29:19]

 

What is this great crime? What could a person do that is so terrible and degraded that it is certain to arouse Divine anger, rather than forgiveness?

 

The answer describes something so simple that, at first glance, we may not understand why it is so wrong. G-d, through Moshe, makes a covenant with the Jews that they will not follow idols or the immoral practices of idolaters, a covenant that we are sworn to follow. But then the Torah describes an individual, family or tribe that is drawn to idolatry. “And when he hears the words of this curse, he will bless himself in his heart, saying, ‘I will have peace, as I follow the counsel of my own heart,’ adding ‘the watered upon the dry.’” [29:18]

 

What is it that arouses Divine anger? Simply that he lies back, instead of trying to improve. “I will have peace — I can continue misbehaving, and nothing bad will happen.”

 

As I said, we may not understand why that’s so horrible. Isn’t the actual sin what matters? Why is a person’s “lackadaisical attitude” more worthy of Divine wrath than serving idols?

 

To be drawn to idolatry, or any form of misbehavior, is to be overwhelmed by a desire. We are human. We want things that we’re not supposed to have, whether power, tempting foods, someone else’s money or a forbidden relationship. And, sadly, we sometimes give in to those temptations. G-d knows we are human, and can forgive us if we turn back, express sincere regret, and commit to doing better.

 

Not so the person who says, “I will have peace.” I remember my teacher, Rabbi Asher Rubenstein zt”l, speaking about how dangerous and wrong this is. Self-satisfaction with our own shortcomings? That’s what infuriates Hashem.

 

Rashi explains what the verse means by “adding the watered upon the dry.” When a person is indifferent to his own wrongdoing, there is no longer any distinction between inadvertent error and deliberate sin. Once he is willing to callously do the sin deliberately, the fact that today he did it by mistake no longer makes his behavior easier to forgive.

 

This thought applies to every person, no matter his or her spiritual level. We cannot be satisfied with where we are; we must look at our actions, and try to do better.

 

And that, of course, is one of the key messages of Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. We must grab the special opportunity of these Holy Days to turn away from our mistakes and our bad choices and set ourselves upon a better path. Let us show HaShem that we are not indifferent to our wrong actions but sincerely desire greater closeness to the Divine.

 

May we all be Written and Sealed for a Blessed Year!

 

Yaakov Menken