Saturday, January 8, 2022

 

What is Normal Life?

Parshas Bo

Posted on January 22, 2021 (5781) By Mordechai Dixler | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

The current global upheaval due to the raging pandemic, combined with political upheaval, has made us all unsettled; many are even broken and in despair. We all ask, “When will life return to normal?” The Exodus story, which we read about in the Torah portion this week, teaches us a fundamental lesson to help us frame these events and cope with the unexpected twists and turns.

 

The ten plagues were an attack on the Egyptian nation and the natural world order. They demonstrated G-d’s authority and control over all elements of nature. Ultimately, they forced the leader of the civilized world, Pharaoh, a man who made himself a god, into submission. The Al-mighty stripped Pharaoh of his false sense of control over his world, to the point that he begged his Jewish slaves to leave Egypt after the final plague, the Plague of the Firstborn.

 

The Torah portion ends with a selection of Commandments: donning Tefillin (phylacteries), the recounting of the Exodus on Passover, and redeeming the firstborn – all reminders for future generations of the Exodus. The Mitzvos of keeping the Sabbath and observing the Jewish holidays also serve as a reminder of the Exodus, as is reflected in the liturgy recited on those days. The Exodus demonstrated G-d’s dominion over the world, and these Mitzvos, many of them daily, and weekly, would ensure the Jewish people never forget.

 

The message of the Exodus is simple but easily forgotten. Whatever your opinion is of mass media, there’s one thing we can all agree on – its failure to express the hand of G-d of world events. Yet, the fact remains –  He is in charge.

 

With the current rollout of the vaccine, and governmental changes, there’s the potential for our own Exodus from this upheaval and a return to normalcy. But times of upheaval, times when G-d’s presence is more obvious, remind us that “normal life” must still have that same awareness of G-d’s constant involvement in public and private affairs. Adam, the first man, was fully aware of G-d in his life, and the actions of man that followed muddled that reality through the generations that would follow. The lessons of the Exodus (and the Pandemic?) were a “reset” for the world, allowing all to see the reality of G-d’s involvement once again. That’s what a return to normalcy looks like – a return to the normalcy of Adam’s freshly minted world.

 

We all crave the return to the comfort of how things used to be, but our souls will only find true comfort with the knowledge of our Creator’s constant presence in our lives. I do hope life returns to normal soon. It is also my hope and prayer, that we listen to the lessons of the Exodus, (and the Pandemic) and the feelings of our soul, to recognize “normal life” as it was meant to be.




Understand the Pharaohs

Parshas Bo

Posted on January 21, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

Since every word of our holy Torah carries with it many layers of significance and importance, it is incumbent upon us to understand why this particular word, Bo, is employed by the Torah to describe a certain situation.

 

In the opinion of the commentators to the Torah, the word Bo, which appears at the beginning of this week’s reading, contains a deeper meaning than the simple translation meaning ‘to come.’ The fact that the word is then followed by the Hebrew word ‘el’ meaning not only ‘to’ but perhaps more literally ‘into,’ gives us insight into what the word Bo in this context really means.

 

It was not sufficient for Moshe merely to visit or come to the Pharaoh of Egypt to deliver the warnings from G-d regarding the plagues that were going to descend upon the Egyptian nation, because of their refusal to free the Jewish people from bondage. Moshe could have delivered this information by proxy, by messenger, by letter or any of the other means that human beings used then to communicate one with another.

 

Rather, it was necessary for Moshe to enter into the brain and feelings of Pharaoh, so to speak, that propels the entire narrative of this week’s reading and will lead to the great moment of freedom and emancipation for the Jewish people.

 

It is as though the Lord, so to speak, wants Moshe to really understand the stubbornness and almost suicidal behavior of the Pharaoh, and to appreciate that it is this intransigence itself that will be his undoing and the destruction of Egypt.

 

It is as though the Torah is teaching us that if one is unable to comprehend the depths of the personality of evil, one can never really combat evil in a practical and strong fashion. It is this recognition of the evil lurking originally, though only in the background of events, that is the beginning of the process of preventing it from triumphing.

 

The Jewish people were fooled by the Pharaoh into volunteering for their own forced labor and eventual slavery. They did not recognize his call for patriotism as the true evil that lay behind his national the plan for them. The Jewish people were so willing to be recognized as good Egyptians that they volunteered to become their own worst enemy and submit themselves to centuries of slavery and servitude.

 

Jewish people, for centuries, have often been unable to perceive that they themselves create the seeds of their own destruction. In the rush for acceptance and approval of others, Jews are often blinded, willfully overlooking the evil arising around them.

 

It is insufficient to come to the Pharaoh to argue one’s case. One must be able to come ‘into’ Pharaoh and to see the true motivation that created this situation of sadness and servitude. This lesson, recorded for us in the Torah, forms a message that applies to all ages of Jewish existence and to all circumstances of political, social, and national life.

 

Shabbat shalom

Rabbi Berel Wein

 


Saturday, January 1, 2022

 

Thanking the River

Parshas Vaera

Posted on January 13, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

 

From earliest childhood, we are taught to express our gratitude for anything we receive. Think back. What were the first things your parents taught you? “Say please” and “Say thank you.” Appreciation and gratitude seem to be fundamental universal values. Why is this so? Is it only to give our benefactors a good feeling? Or is there some deeper purpose? What exactly do these words mean?

 

In this week’s Torah portion, we find a rather strange form of gratitude. As the story unfolds, Pharaoh defiantly refuses to release the Jewish people from bondage. The Ten Plagues begin. First, the Nile River turns to blood. Pharaoh persists in his stubborn refusal, and the river spawns and disgorges myriad frogs that swarm over all of Egyptian. Pharaoh still resists, and the very dust of the earth is transformed into lice. But this, too, does not convince Pharaoh to release the Jewish people, and as the plagues continue, Egypt is overrun with beasts of prey. And so it continues until Pharaoh finally lets the Jewish people go.

 

If we look carefully, however, we notice an interesting distinction between the first three plagues and all the rest. Moses was the divine messenger to Pharaoh and the Egyptians, and he personally administered the plagues. Nonetheless, Hashem chose his brother Aaron to administer the first three plagues. Why was this so?

 

The Sages tell us that for Moses to strike the river and turn it into blood or to generate a plague of frogs from its bowels would have been an act of ingratitude. During the decree of infanticide (the crime of killing a child within a year of birth) , Moses had been concealed among the bulrushes of the Nile, and in effect, the river had saved his life. How could he now afflict it with plagues? Furthermore, Moses had struck down an Egyptian taskmaster who had been tormenting a Jewish laborer and buried the body in the soil. Therefore, it would have been an act of ingratitude for him to transform the soil into lice.

 

But wait! What sort of gratitude was Hashem demanding from Moses? What is the point of being grateful to inanimate entities such as the river and the soil?

 

Clearly, the primary purpose of gratitude is for our own benefit. People sometimes have a tendency to avoid expressing their gratitude, because somehow doing so makes them feel diminished. Their egos do not allow them to acknowledge that they are beholden to others. In order to counteract this tendency, the Torah repeatedly emphasizes the importance of expressing thanks. Indeed, the Hebrew word for gratitude is hakaras hatov, acknowledgment of the favor. Acknowledgment is the key, regardless of whether the benefactor is another person or an inanimate river.

 

The tendency to ingratitude, the commentators explain, is one of the major obstacles to a close relationship with the Creator. A person whose ego does not allow him to acknowledge his own limitations and needs will not recognize the limitless presence of the Creator in the world. Only by becoming conditioned to express gratitude at every appropriate occasion, to acknowledge dependency on others, can a person break out of the ego- driven illusions of self-sufficiency and gain a clear vision of the world. This knowledge and humble acceptance is the first step towards connecting with the Master of the Universe.

 

A great sage was having dinner with one of his young disciples in a hotel dining room.

“The owner of this hotel is a fine person,” remarked the sage. “Look at this dinner he prepared for us. And the service!”

 

“Well, what do you expect?” said the young disciple. “He is getting paid very well for it.”

“Naturally, he has to get paid,” said the sage. “He has expenses, you know. That’s the only reason he takes our money. But he is such a considerate, wonderful host.”

“He takes more than to cover expenses,” the young man persisted. “He makes quite a tidy profit here.”

 

“Of course, he makes a profit,” said the sage. “Otherwise, how is he to support his family? Nonetheless, he is such a warm host. But you, my young friend, have thought of every which way to avoid being grateful to him. Do you know why? Because you are afraid that acknowledging the good in others may make you indebted to them and thereby diminished. But the opposite is true. Recognizing the good in others makes you a better person.”

 

In our own lives, we must never underestimate the importance of expressing gratitude and appreciation to others. We must recognize every good turn that is done for us, and we must declare our acknowledgement in no uncertain terms. We owe it not only to our benefactors but to ourselves even more. A person wise enough to thank the doorman for opening the door is exalted enough to be in touch with eternity.

 

Text Copyright © 2008 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Rabbi Reich is on the faculty of the Ohr Somayach Tanenbaum Education Ce

 Faith and Patience

Parshas Vaera

Posted on December 25, 2013 (5774) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

The Lord, so to speak, bemoans to Moshe the lack of faith exhibited by him and the Jewish people during the moments of crisis in their encounter with Pharaoh and their Egyptian taskmasters. G-d points out that the previous generations of the founders of the Jewish people never wavered in their faith and belief that G-d’s covenant would be fulfilled, no matter how harsh the circumstances of their lives were.

 

And now when the process of redemption from Egyptian slavery is already underway, whenever there is a hitch or a delay or an apparent reversal, the complaint immediately arises against G-d and against Moshe as well. Now the Torah itself clearly makes allowances for this behavior due to the bone- crushing physical work imposed on the Jewish slaves by their Egyptian taskmasters.

 

It is difficult to be optimistic when one’s back is being whipped. Nevertheless, the Lord’s reproof of Moshe and of Israel is recorded for us in strong terms in the opening verses of this week’s Torah reading. G-d, so to speak, is pointing out to Moshe the existence of a generational disconnect. The previous generations were strong in belief and faith and possessed patience and fortitude in the face of all difficulties.

 

Moshe’s generation and in fact many Jewish generations throughout history demand action and that action must be immediate. Their faith is conditioned upon seeing and experiencing immediate results and the changed society and world that they desire. Otherwise, they are prepared to abandon ship. That is what the prophet means when he chides Israel by saying that “your goodness and faith resemble the clouds of the morning that soon burn off when the sun rises. ”

 

Faith to be effective has to also be long-lasting. Since mortality limits our vision and naturally makes us impatient it is often difficult for us to see the big picture and witness the unfolding of a long-range historical process. Our generation, unlike those of our predecessors – even our immediate predecessors – has rightly been dubbed the “now generation.” Instant gratification is not only demanded but is expected and when it does not happen our faith is sorely tested, if not even diminished.

 

Patience and faith is the essence of G-d’s message to Moshe. Part of Moshe’s leadership task will now be to instill this sense of patience and long lasting faith within the psyche and soul of the Jewish people. This daunting task will take forty years of constant challenges and withering experiences before it will see results and accomplishments. At the end of the forty year period – forty years after the Exodus from Egypt – Moshe will proclaim that the Jewish people have finally attained an understanding heart and an appreciation of the historical journey upon which the Lord has sent them.

 

Both patience and faith are difficult traits to acquire and they remain very fragile even after they have been acquired. But in all areas of human life – marriage, children, professional occupations, business and commerce, government and politics, diplomacy and conflict – patience and faith are the necessary tools to achieve success. That is the message that G-d communicates to Moshe and to Israel in all of its generations and circumstances in this week’s parsha.

 

Shabat shalom Rabbi Berel Wein

 

Faith and Patience

Parshas Vaera

Posted on December 25, 2013 (5774) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

The Lord, so to speak, bemoans to Moshe the lack of faith exhibited by him and the Jewish people during the moments of crisis in their encounter with Pharaoh and their Egyptian taskmasters. G-d points out that the previous generations of the founders of the Jewish people never wavered in their faith and belief that G-d’s covenant would be fulfilled, no matter how harsh the circumstances of their lives were.

 

And now when the process of redemption from Egyptian slavery is already underway, whenever there is a hitch or a delay or an apparent reversal, the complaint immediately arises against G-d and against Moshe as well. Now the Torah itself clearly makes allowances for this behavior due to the bone- crushing physical work imposed on the Jewish slaves by their Egyptian taskmasters.

 

It is difficult to be optimistic when one’s back is being whipped. Nevertheless, the Lord’s reproof of Moshe and of Israel is recorded for us in strong terms in the opening verses of this week’s Torah reading. G-d, so to speak, is pointing out to Moshe the existence of a generational disconnect. The previous generations were strong in belief and faith and possessed patience and fortitude in the face of all difficulties.

 

Moshe’s generation and in fact many Jewish generations throughout history demand action and that action must be immediate. Their faith is conditioned upon seeing and experiencing immediate results and the changed society and world that they desire. Otherwise, they are prepared to abandon ship. That is what the prophet means when he chides Israel by saying that “your goodness and faith resemble the clouds of the morning that soon burn off when the sun rises. ”

 

Faith to be effective has to also be long-lasting. Since mortality limits our vision and naturally makes us impatient it is often difficult for us to see the big picture and witness the unfolding of a long-range historical process. Our generation, unlike those of our predecessors – even our immediate predecessors – has rightly been dubbed the “now generation.” Instant gratification is not only demanded but is expected and when it does not happen our faith is sorely tested, if not even diminished.

 

Patience and faith is the essence of G-d’s message to Moshe. Part of Moshe’s leadership task will now be to instill this sense of patience and long lasting faith within the psyche and soul of the Jewish people. This daunting task will take forty years of constant challenges and withering experiences before it will see results and accomplishments. At the end of the forty year period – forty years after the Exodus from Egypt – Moshe will proclaim that the Jewish people have finally attained an understanding heart and an appreciation of the historical journey upon which the Lord has sent them.

 

Both patience and faith are difficult traits to acquire and they remain very fragile even after they have been acquired. But in all areas of human life – marriage, children, professional occupations, business and commerce, government and politics, diplomacy and conflict – patience and faith are the necessary tools to achieve success. That is the message that G-d communicates to Moshe and to Israel in all of its generations and circumstances in this week’s parsha.

 

Shabat shalom Rabbi Berel Wein

 

Saturday, December 25, 2021

 

Leadership Qualities

Parshas Shemos

Posted on January 4, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

 

Moses, the chosen messenger of the Master of the Universe, came riding out of the desert into the fabled kingdom of Egypt. With nothing more than the staff in his hand and his brother Aaron at his side, he strode into the royal palace, confronted Pharaoh and demanded, “Let my people go!”

Thus began the spectacular story of the Exodus. Time and again, Moses confronted the belligerent Pharaoh, and after each refusal, he visited a shattering new plague onto Egypt until it was beaten into submission, and the enslaved Jewish people were finally free. As for Moses, he has come down to us as the greatest leader of all time, the man who single-handedly took on the might of the entire Egyptian kingdom and prevailed.

 

But let us stop and think for a moment. Wherein exactly lay the greatness of Moses in his mission to Egypt? Every step he took, every word he spoke, every move he made was choreographed by Hashem. Hashem told him exactly when and where to go, exactly what to say, exactly what to do. All Moses had to do was follow his instructions faithfully. He had no personal input into any aspect of his spectacular performance. Why then is Moses considered such a towering figure in the history of the Exodus?

 

The commentators explain that the one critical element that would determine the success or failure of his mission was entirely in Moses’s control. “I want you to know,” Hashem said to him, “that you are going on the condition that you perform my wonders in front of Pharaoh without fearing him.” Without fearing him. This was the key.

 

As Hashem’s chosen messenger, Moses enjoyed full divine protection, and he knew full well that Pharaoh could not harm him. But it is one thing to know this intellectually and quite another to feel it in one’s heart. According to the Midrash, Pharaoh’s throne was surrounded by snarling lions and fierce warriors, and Pharaoh himself was an exceedingly intimidating tyrant. No matter how sure Moses was that he would come to no harm, could he enter such a scenario without a twinge of trepidation in his heart? And yet, if he had exhibited the slightest tremor in his voice, the slightest flutter of his heart, the slightest blink of his eye, he would have compromised his entire mission. Hashem had sent Moses to demonstrate His absolute mastery over Pharaoh, to show that Pharaoh was utterly nothing, putty in the hands of Heaven. Therefore, had Moses felt any fear, he would have acknowledged Pharaoh as an adversary, albeit an infinitely weaker one, and thereby doomed his mission to failure.

 

Here then lay the greatness of Moses. He saw clearly that there is no power in the world other than Hashem, that Pharaoh in contraposition to G-d was a total nonentity, unworthy of even the slightest smidgen of fear. Therefore, when Moses walked fearlessly into Pharaoh’s palace, everyone, Egyptian and Jew alike, knew that Hashem was in absolute control.

 

A great general, who was in the process of mounting an invasion of a neighboring country, called a meeting of his most trusted advisors. “Gentlemen, I have a problem,” the general began. “I had hoped to win fame and glory for our armies during this campaign by thoroughly trouncing the enemy. But wherever my armies appear, the enemy flees. We have still had no opportunity to engage them in battle and destroy them. How can we get the enemy to stand and fight?”

“We take hostages,” said one advisor. “That will force them to fight.”

“We plan ambushes,” said another. “We cut off their escape routes.”

Other advisers suggested yet other ruses to force the enemy to fight.

“You are all wrong,” said one old advisor. “If the enemy flees whenever your armies appear, what greater glory can there be?”

 

In our own lives, we often face trials and challenges that strike fear into our hearts. Whether the threat is to our health, financial security, family life or anything else, the effect can be frightening and, indeed, devastating. But if we can find the strength to look at the world in the broader perspective, if we recognize that we are all messengers of Heaven doing his bidding here on the face of the earth, we will discover that there is nothing to fear but fear itself. As long as we connect ourselves to the infinite reality of the Creator, all our worries pale into insignificance.

 

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

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


The Anatomy of an Exile

Parshas Shemos

Posted on January 8, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

Now Yosef died, as well as all his brothers and all that generation. The children of Israel were fruitful and swarmed and increased and became very-very strong, and the land became filled with them. A new king arose over Egypt, who did not know about Yosef. (Shemos 1:6-8)

 

A new king arose: [There is a controversy between] Rav and Samuel. One says: He was really new, and the other one says: His decrees were new. – Rashi

 

The Torah is not a history book! That doesn’t mean that there isn’t history in the Torah. It’s just not information that has been recorded for intellectual intrigue alone. Everything is scribed for a profoundly relevant lesson. We are treated to a narrative about the descent of the Jewish People into the Exile of Egypt to notice a classic pattern to discern the key features of an exile, so we can better understand our own circumstances, and survive.

 

This is how it all began. Yosef and all his brothers and that whole generation died, and the children of Israel were fruitful and multiplied to an extraordinary extent. Let’s put these two factors together. That means that an entirely new generation was growing up without a vision of the stature of the Tzadikim and Gedolim of the previous generation, and there was no one Mashgiach, trained observer. Too often the behavior changes depending upon who’s watching. Next, the Torah reports that the land became filled with them. What does that mean? By design, Yosef had set up his family that they should settle apart from the rest of Egyptian society in Goshen. It was the first Jewish ghetto, but it was purposefully arranged that way to isolate and insulate the Holy Children of Israel from the ills and evils of Egyptian life.

 

Now this is the beginning of all exiles. This is how it works! The Jewish Nation may be even sitting in the Land of Israel with a Temple and suddenly the allure of Babylonian culture captures the imagination of the many.

 

People begin to fantasize that those idols are better and easier and more effective than what we have in an invisible G-d. They can do whatever they want, and go wherever they wish without restriction. There is no need to feel guilty anymore. Maybe we can unbridle ourselves and be free and live like those highly cultured and sophisticated Babylonians.

 

What does HASHEM do!? Like a good father he does what a friend of mine’s father did. He told me that his father smelled smoke in the basement. He questioned him whether or not he was the one that was smoking. He admitted to his father that it was him. The father did not give him a lecture about the ills and costs of smoking. He did something wonderfully wicked. He told his son, “You like smoking!? Let’s smoke!” He took him to a store and bought a carton and he sat him down in the basement and had him light cigarette after cigarette for hours on end until his face was green and he was coughing and vomiting. After that encounter, he never wanted to look at a cigarette again.

 

So too HASHEM says, “You like the Babylonian or Egyptian lifestyle?! You think it’s noble!? I’ll give you a giant dose of their “nobility”. So it was in Egypt, Babylonia, Greece, Spain, and Germany, you name it! By the bitter end we found ourselves nauseated by their grotesque hypocrisy and cruelty, and we were happy to have survived to rejoin the normalcy of a life of Torah and Mitzvos.

 

The generation that followed the demise of Yosef and his brothers gradually became enchanted by Egyptian culture and were seduced by their ways. They forfeited their power of renewal, the Koach of Chiddush, to alien and external forces. The idea and the ideal became to be more like them. Now they are vulnerable to being controlled by a New King with new ideas and laws.

 The Strife Factor

Parshas Shemos

Posted on December 26, 2018 (5779) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

Moses did not grow up among the Jewish people, although he bore them a passionate love. During the decrees of infanticide, an Egyptian princess had discovered the infant Moses hidden among the bulrushes of the Nile River and reared him as her own.

 

Although surrounded by luxury and opulence, the thought of his people enslaved and oppressed gave Moses no rest. Finally, when he was old enough, he set out to see firsthand the suffering of his people and to find how he could help alleviate it. As he ventured forth, he encountered a sadistic Egyptian taskmaster beating a Jewish laborer brutally. Overcome with compassion, Moses struck down the Egyptian tormentor and buried the corpse in the sand, unaware that he had been observed by a pair of Jews named Dathan and Abiram.

 

The next day, Moses saw Dathan and Abiram fighting each other.

“Villain!” Moses cried. “Why do you strike your fellow Jew?”

They turned to Moses with disdain and said, “So what do you propose to do? Will you murder us as you murdered the Egyptian?”

 

Moses was shocked. “Aha, the thing is known,” he cried out.

On the surface, it would seem that Moses was shocked at finding out his killing of the Egyptian was no secret. But the Midrash reads a deeper meaning into these words. Aha, Moses was saying, this is why the Jewish people continue to suffer in exile. If they are capable of strife and informing on each other, they are not deserving of redemption.

 

But let us reflect for a moment. Was this the worst of their sins? The Jews had been thoroughly contaminated by Egyptian society. Their behavior were barely distinguishable from that of the Egyptians; their lives were characterized by idolatry and immorality. Nonetheless, in spite of all this dreadful sinfulness, Moses had found the Jewish suffering inexplicable. But now that he saw two Jews fighting, he finally understood the cause of the Jewish exile. How can this be?

 

Furthermore, the Sages tell us the Second Temple was destroyed because of unjustified hatred Jews harbored in their hearts against each other. How are we to understand this? Many other sins incur punishments far more severe that does unjustified hatred. Why then did this particular sin bring on the destruction of the Temple and the removal of the Divine Presence from among the Jewish people for thousands of years?

 

The commentators point out that the revelation of the Divine Presence in this world is really a paradox. How can the ultimate manifestation of spirituality reside in a physical world? It can only be done, they explain, by creating an oasis of spirituality to serve in the physical world, an oasis composed not of physical elements such as bricks and mortal, of soil and grass but of a community of people whose spiritual essence is paramount in their existence. Collectively, these people form an island of transcendent spirituality upon which the Divine Presence descends.

 

But how do we measure if a community is genuinely spiritual? It is in their relationships with others. Materialistic people see others as adversaries and are always jealously protective of their own status and domain. Spiritual people, in tune with eternity, are above these petty concerns; strife and egotism have no place in their world. Therefore, interpersonal relations are the barometer which tell us if the community is worthy of having the Divine Presence in its midst. If the strife factor is low, then the spirituality level is high, and Hashem comes among them. In Egypt and at the end of the Second Temple era, however, the strife factor was high, and the Divine Presence left the Jewish people.

 

Two boys were fighting in school, shouting and pummeling each other until one of the teachers pulled them apart.

When tempers cooled, the teacher called the boys to the front of the classroom.

“Do you understand what a terrible thing you did?” he asked.

“But he started up with me!” said one boy.

“Make two fists,” the teacher said to the boy.

The boy complied, and the teacher took the two fists in his hands and pounded them against each other.

“Ouch!” the boy screamed. “It hurts!”

“Exactly,” said the teacher. “When your friend suffers pain, it should also hurt you. When you hit him, it is as if you are hitting yourself!”

 

In our own lives, as we aspire to raise our level of our spirituality through studying the Torah and living by its values and ideals, how can we determine if we are truly connecting with the divine? We can do so by measuring the strife factor in our daily existence. If we live in harmony with other people, appreciating the goodness inherent in all of them, if our lives are essentially free of strife and discord, then we have indeed attained a high level of spirituality and forged an eternal bond with our Father in Heaven.

 

Text Copyright © 2007 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

 

 

Saturday, December 18, 2021

 

A Glimpse of the Future

Parshas Vayechi

Posted on December 14, 2021 (5782) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

If we could look into the future and discover when the major events in our lives will take place, would we do it? If we could ascertain the exact dates on which we will marry, have children and pass away from this world, would we want to know? Most people would rather live with the uncertainty than face the possibility of an unpleasant certainty.

 

In this week’s portion, however, we seem to find an opposite view. As the final minutes of his life draw near, the old patriarch Jacob summons his sons to his bedside. With his great powers of divine inspiration, he sees the long exile of the Jewish people stretching far into the future, but as he continues to look, he also sees the arrival of the End of Days when the exile will come to an end.

“Gather around,” he says to his family, “and I will tell you about the End of Days.” But then he goes on to speak of other matters. What happened? The Sages tell us that Jacob attempted to reveal the end of history to his family. But the Divine Spirit departed from him, and his vision faded away.

The questions immediately arise: Why did Jacob want to tell them when the exile would come to an end? Especially in light of what we now know, that it would take thousands of years, wouldn’t it only have disheartened and discouraged them? Furthermore, if Jacob felt there was a purpose in telling them, why indeed didn’t Hashem allow him to do so?

 

The commentators explain that Jacob had no intention of revealing the date of the End of Days to his children. There certainly would have been no point in doing so. Rather, he wanted to give them a glimpse of what awaits them in the End of Days. He wanted them to see the idyllic future world suffused with the unrestricted emanations of the Divine Presence, a world of perfect harmony and peace in which all humankind will be blessed with unlimited knowledge and transcendent insight. This was the image he wanted to impress on their minds so that they would not succumb to despair during the tribulations of the dark years of exile.

 

But Hashem did not allow him to do so. The kindness of a father’s heart had motivated Jacob to reveal this image to his children, but as is often the case, this well-intentioned kindness would ultimately deprive them of immeasurable reward. If the Jewish people had seen a clear prophetic image of the rewards in store for them in the future, they would naturally be motivated to persevere and struggle against all odds to fulfill the Torah and achieve those rewards. In that case, though, they would be doing it for their own benefit rather than out of love for Hashem. But as long as they have no such images in their minds, their continued loyalty to the Creator through the worst of times remains an expression of incredibly powerful faith and love for Him, and their reward will be proportionately bountiful.

 

A mother gave her two sons jigsaw puzzles and sent them off to play.

A long while later, she went to check on the them. Both boys had completed their puzzles.

One of them jumped up and ran to her. “Look, it’s all done,” he said proudly. “Could you frame it and hang it on the wall?”

“Certainly,” she said. Then she turned to her other son and asked, “Do you want me to frame yours as well?”

 

The boy shrugged and shook his head. “Nah. It was no big deal. You don’t have to.”

The mother was perplexed. “But your brother wants his framed. Why don’t you want the same for yours?”

 

“Well, I’ll tell you,” said the boy. “He didn’t look at the picture before he did the puzzle, so I guess it was a pretty big deal for him. But I looked at the picture first, so it wasn’t such a big deal.”

 

In our own lives, we are all faced with periods of discouragement and even hopelessness during which we would be much relieved if we could steal a glimpse of Hashem’s hidden hand at work. How much easier it would be to deal with the vicissitudes of fortune if we understood how everything leads to the ultimate good. But it is in this very darkness, when we stand on the verge of despair, that we must discern Hashem’s closeness by our faith alone and feel ourselves enveloped in His loving embrace..

 

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

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

 

Aging Gracefully

Parshas Vayechi

Posted on December 14, 2021 (5782) By Rabbi Pinchas Avruch | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

 

“And it came to pass after these matters that [the messenger] said to Yosef (Joseph), ‘Behold, your father is ill.’…(Beraishis/Genesis 48:1) This is the first time in the history of the world that someone became sick.

 

Yalkut Shimoni (1)(Chayai Sarah 105) narrates that Avraham requested from G-d the phenomenon of visible aging, for he feared that when father and son entered a room people would not know whom to give honor first, so G-d granted him his wish, with him as the first recipient. Yitzchak (Isaac) requested suffering before death, for he feared the result of the process of Divine judgment if one never had the warning to do teshuva (regret one’s misdeeds and resolve to return to G-d’s path), so G-d granted him his wish, with him as the first recipient. Yaakov (Jacob) requested illness, for he feared the consequences of not having a few days to resolve outstanding issues between one’s children. G-d granted him his wish, with him as the first recipient.

 

Michtav Me’Eliyahu (2) explains that each of our saintly forefathers made requests consistent with his most pronounced character trait. Avraham, known for his acts of chesed (loving kindness), appreciated the need for giving genuine honor to his fellow human. G-d concurred to the great impediment this indistinguishability placed on one’s Divine service through chesed. Yitzchak’s focus was on justice, and he recognized the great tragedy in the afterlife that awaited one who did not do teshuva. Therefore, he beseeched a mechanism in this life that would awaken the consciousness to this inevitability so that the requisite correction could be made. Yaakov’s pursuit was perfection and completion, seeking resolution between opposing forces. Prior to death, a simple declaration of one’s will was insufficient; efforts needed to be made to ensure that the children accepted the determination. He understood that there would continue to be jealousy unless everyone genuinely felt his interests had been served, that there could be no peace (shalom) between parties without feeling a sense of wholeness (shleimus). This could not be accomplished with the suddenness that accompanied natural death at that time. G-d’s accommodation was extended illness.

 

Rabbi Akiva taught us (Tractate Berachos 60b) that one should regularly remind himself that all that G-d does is for the good. There are tragedies that challenge our faith in this maxim, such as the difficulties that comes with aging. But our Sages remind us often that trials are given to us as growth opportunities (see Kol HaKollel Parshas Lech Lecha 5764), and G-d, in his infinite kindness and love for us, granted our forefathers’ requests for the growth opportunities of aging. Our challenge is to maximize our utilization of them.

 

Have a Good Shabbos!

(1) most comprehensive Midrashic anthology, covering the entirety of the Tanach (Bible); attributed to Rabbi Shimon HaDarshan of Frankfurt of the thirteenth century

(2) collected writings and discourses of Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler (1891-1954) of London and B’nai Brak, one of the outstanding personalities and thinkers of the Mussar movement


Copyright © 2004 by Rabbi Pinchas Avruch and Torah.org

 

 A Strong Dose of Truth

Parshas Vayechi

Posted on December 17, 2021 (5782) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

 

Shimon and Levi are brothers; stolen instruments are their weapons. Let my soul not enter their counsel; my honor, you shall not join their assembly, for in their wrath they killed a man, and with their will they hamstrung a bull. Cursed be their wrath for it is mighty, and their anger because it is harsh. I will separate them throughout Yaakov, and I will scatter them throughout Israel. (Breishis 49:5-7)

 

Shimon and Levi did not seem to get what we would call a compliment from their father Yaakov. Yet these parting words were his blessing. How can such a brutally honest analysis be considered a blessing?

 

One of my great teachers once told us about a very traumatic episode that occurred to him when he was but a young boy. He was in the country – upstate for the summer and one day he was strolling with his father, who was a wealthy businessman and another man that he described as a German Jew. His father was also a European Jew from Switzerland and the two men were walking and talking together as he tagged along. The conversation was dominated by this German Jew telling of the great opportunity there was to be found in Wisconsin. Wisconsin has this and that. It was clear he was making a pitch to invest in some business venture in Wisconsin.

 

Now my Rebbe told us that he was a young precocious boy and he had devoured the encyclopedia and he knew a little bit about a lot and so he asserted himself into the conversation, “What’s the big deal about Wisconsin!? There are only so many people in the whole state. There are more cows than people etc.” Now the European expectation was that children should be seen but not heard from, but this was an American kid and he had clearly broken ranks and violated that protocol.

 

At that moment this German Jew turned to him with fury and berated him repeatedly, “What you don’t know, don’t talk about! What you don’t know, don’t talk about!” My Rebbe told us that he was shaken by the event. It shook him to his core. That moment of what felt like verbal abuse scarred his psyche and left him upset for the rest of the summer. That’s what happened!

 

65 years later, my Rebbe tells us, his father had already left this world but his elderly mother, now in her mid – 90’s was living nearby in relatively good health with a fulltime aid and a nurse. One Erev Shabbos he gets an urgent call from the nurse that his mother has a fever and her blood pressure is weak. He tells them to run to the emergency room and he will meet them there.

 

The doctor on call steps out from behind the curtain after examining his mother and tells my Rebbe, “You mother has an infection but we can easily treat it with penicillin. Do you know whether or not your mother is allergic to penicillin?” My Rebbe said that he started to think to himself, “I’m not allergic. My sisters are not allergic. My brother is not allergic to penicillin. So, my mother is probably not allergic either.” He is about to declare with confidence that his mother is not allergic to penicillin, when suddenly a voice from 65 years earlier charged into the present moment and arrested him in mid-sentence, “What you don’t know, don’t talk about! What you don’t know don’t talk about!” He looks up at the doctor and honestly admits that he does not know whether or not his mother is allergic to penicillin. The doctor said that he can easily check it out on her medical records. He comes back moments later and declares, “Well, it turns out that your mother is allergic to penicillin.”

Had he spoken what he assumed to be true and had he not been revisited by that brutish and furious voice at that very moment then, based on his word the doctor would have administered penicillin and given her already weakened state, he would have brought about the early demise of his beloved mother.

 

The Mishne in Brochos tells us, “One is obligated to recite a blessing for the bad just as he recites a blessing for the good, as it is stated: “And you shall love HASHEM your G-d with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might”” (Devarim 6:5). We see that what seems bad in a given moment is also worthy of a blessing. A negative experience might prove to be a blessing in disguise. So, Shimon and Levi were blessed with a strong dose of truth.