Parashat Shemot: Does It Really Matter Where We Live?

Sefer Shemot begins repeating the names of בני ישראל and then says יוסף היה במצרים, “Yosef was in Egypt.” We all just finished sefer Beraishit last week -, it’s been a while that Yosef was in Egypt already, so why does the Torah feel the need to again tell us he was there?

I use the context of the Avot and their personal struggles to reflect upon some different hashkafot existing in Orthodoxy today. It goes without saying that our Avot were on a high spiritual level we cannot fathom, but yet the Torah describes their struggles for us to learn from. Avraham struggled with two competing sons, specifically with Yishmael and who he would become. Yitzchak dealt with the rift between Eisov and Yaakov and they each struggled with that relationship, regardless of what Yitzchak fully understood was going on. Yaakov dealt with 12 sons, 10 of which had a real struggle with Yosef. Regardless of how we understand their justification for selling Yosef, they had to deal with a father who expressed more love for one sibling. Despite all of this, everyone after Avraham was raised in a Jewish environment, in some sense a sheltered shtetl in an attempt to infuse only Torah philosophies. In fact, the Torah says this almost explicitly when it describes Yaakov having heard Yosef is alive. He sends Yehudah ahead to Egypt to settle in the city of Goshen, where they could be in their own environment, away from the impurity of Egypt proper. The bottom line?  Avot seemed to prefer a sheltered community to a more mixed or diverse one.

Yosef, although he grew up in a sheltered environment, after being sold and sent to Egypt, spent most of his years in a land of impurity. And yet, he grew into the gadol that the king of Egpyt relied on to run the country, he withstood the temptation of the wife of Potifar, and essentially lived in Egyptian society without compromising on his avodat Hashem at all. Perhaps that is why the Torah emphasises where Yosef lived. In Egypt, where the sides were stacked against him, unable to live a true Torah Torah lifestyle,  he rose to the occasion and did not let that waiver from what he knew to be true and right at all. Moreover, he produced אפרים ומנשה, who seemed to have a much more peaceful relationship than their uncles, great-uncles and great-great-uncles. Isn’t it interesting, that this was the case despite them being the first to grow up in a totally non-Jewish environment? Perhaps this is why the tradition for thousands of years has been that on Friday night we bless our sons that they should be like אפרים ומנשה, not only to live a peaceful life, but to be strong in your conviction to Torah and Mitzvot, regardless of what the world around you is promoting and endorsing.

We live in a Jewish world that continues to polarize. Unfortunately, the intermarriage rate continues to rise and the non-orthodox world continues to dwindle; in some cities a little faster, in others a little slower, but the numbers are declining consistently. In the Orthodox world, the right wing charedi community continues to grow at strong levels; this world seems to promote more of the “fully” sheltered environment with a complete focus on Torah and mitzvot and not much of an emphasis on contributing to the  world around us, to general education and professionalism. Even in the once called Modern Orthodox community, its own polarization is occurring - more and more people who want to call themselves modern orthodox, but in practice seem to be more ‘modern’ than they are orthodox. For many this term and community has turned more into a social structure for a community, than a description of philosophy towards Torah and mitzvot.

It would seem to me that if we looked to Yosef for chinuch advice, much of the Jewish world would not be following his modale. I suppose the Chareidi approach has its value, but more so if they really live in seclusion, without interacting with the general world. But if they are to live and make a living in the world at large, there may be a few areas that need improvement in their approach. If we look to the non-Orthodox world that is devoid of complete commitment to Torah and Mitzvot, perhaps we can understand why their numbers are dwindling and why their youth are less interested. If we look at the “Modern” or “Centrist” Orthodox community, I believe we need to look at  the Orthodoxy as being equally as important as the Modern. The original philosophy of Rav Soloveitchik and Rav Hirsch, although different, both understood the need of the modern Jew to live and interact in the world around them. They understood the need and value that general education has to allow us to become professionals and to deepen our appreciation for Hashem’s world. They understood that our reality was like אפרים ומנשה; that we would grow up in a secular world and despite the growth of Torah learning, increased number of shuls and Jewish Day Schools, there is a balance that has to be struck to live truly both modern and orthodox.

I do not espouse to have the answers to all of the Jewish communities challenges, but when it comes to this issue, I think back to a shiur I heard over twenty years ago on a cassette (for those of you who remember what those are) from Rabbi Mordechai Gifter, the Rosh Yeshiva of Telz Cleveland. Despite being from a more chareidi Yeshiva, Rav Gifter’s upbringing allowed him to understand the full gamut of the Jewish world;  he suggested that we stop using descriptors to Orthodox, and he preferred that we all aspire to be “Torah Jews.” He understood there are going to be philosophical differences in the Jewish spectrum, but the most important thing is are we Torah Jews. Is the Torah the main motivator in how we live our lives? Is the Torah the main decider of how we practice and how we act? Perhaps this was the strength of Yosef and why the Torah emphasizes in this week’s parasha that he was in Egypt. Despite being in Egypt, he was a Torah Jew and he was always sure to make Torah the motivator behind everything he did.

Parashat Vayechi: A Message for Life from Sefer Beraishit: Challenges Leads to Growth

As we conclude the book of Bereishit, I am struck by one reality: most of our Avot and Imahot did not have easy lives. They each had struggles and challenges, including family feuds and waiting many years for children. There is a famous Medrashic comment which states that our Imahot had to wait many years to have children because Hashem desired their tefillot. One common message we can take away from this is that Hashem wants us to daven; he wants us to develop a relationship with him and this is so important that He gives us challenges in life to bring us to daven.

Two years ago, I spent a week in Israel, visiting my son who was then learning in Yeshivah for the year. Like many people when traveling to Israel, we often go with some apprehension and concern for safety. I found myself experiencing extreme emotions about this. On the one hand, my wife and I felt  the new security measures - walls on the highways, etc., gave us a greater sense of security than we had on previous trips. However, our trip concluded only 10 minutes away from the terrible terrorist attack in Armon Hanatziv. Before I even had the chance to feel fear for my son, wife or myself, I was struck by what I saw happening around me. Despite the sadness and grief over the horrendous attack, Israeli’s did not let it bring them down, nor did it let them feel despair; they did not let it dampen their spirit for our country. Israelis continued on with their lives, as they walked the streets, malls, markets, shuks and centers with genuine feelings of safety and security. There was also a feeling in the air -  an ‘energy’, if you will - that our lives are all in the hands of Hashem. Even the non-observant taxi driver commented many times on how Hashem takes care of us, and that the strength of our country comes from our rallying together after events like these; that horrific acts such as what transpired that day can only serve to bring us closer together as a nation and a people, and reaffirm our commitment to our country. And all I could think of was ‘my goodness, what unbelievable people, what unbelievable strength of character, what a remarkable sense of purpose they have’ - מי כעמך ישראל!

To come full circle, this experience helped me understand the words of Chazal, mentioned above in a different light. It is not just the tefillot that Hashem wants from us, but it is our struggle, it is our commitment to His Torah and His land which ultimately defines the way we choose to live our lives. It is not about having an “easy” life. “Easy” doesn’t mean better. The easy way doesn’t cause you to grow. Of course we should never know from such horrible tragedies, but perhaps we shouldn’t hope for everything to be easy. Perhaps we should look for times of struggle and challenges; those are what make us into great people!

Parashat Vayigash - Some Questions Are Better Than Their Answers

As educators, we are taught to encourage our students to question, think deeply and not to take everything at face value. There are some questions that are better than their answers. In this week’s parasha, I believe we find one such example. The parasha describes the story of Yaakov and Yosef being reunited. After years of thinking that Yosef is dead, Yaakov is told that Yosef is alive and he travels to Egypt to meet him. Imagine the scene, the emotion, the excitement. When they finally see each other, the Torah says,

וירא אליו ויפל על צואריו ויבך על צואריו עוד (מו:כט)

According to most commentaries, this means that Yosef saw Yaakov, he fell on his neck and wept. Rashi points out the usage of the word ויבך, and he cried, is singular. This is meant to teach us that only Yosef cried. Really? Yaakov who had just found out that his son was alive and he doesn’t cry? What is even more difficult to understand is that Rashi says the reason Yaakov didn’t cry at that moment (I am sure he did cry later, even though the text doesn’t discuss it) is because he was busy reciting Kriat Shema. Of all the time in the day to say Shema, now Yaakov says it? Could he not have said it earlier in the day? Later in the day? And why didn’t Yosef have to say Shema at that moment?

Let’s explore a few solutions to these questions; but think we might come to the realization that the question is in fact better than the answer.

1. Since Yosef had attained a level of malchut in Egypt and there is a commandment for Jews to honor malchut, Yaakov was actually on a mitzvah mission to honor malchut. Additionally, there is a principle of עוסק במצוה פטור מן המצוה, that one who is involved in mitzvah is exempt from other mitzvot that come his way, for fear that he might not fulfill the first one properly. Therefore, until the scene of being reunited, Yaakov was exempt from the mitzvah of Shema. Only once he arrived and showed honor to the malchut completing that mitzvah, did his obligation of reciting Shema return. He thus had to fulfill it before losing the opportunity.
2. With a slightly different twist, the K’tav Sofer suggests that Yaakov came to show honor to the malchut, to Yosef as a king. But Yaakov wanted to show he was coming to honor Yosef due to the malchut that Hashem had bestowed upon him -- not because of some honor that Pharaoh bestowed. For this reason, he stopped to say Shema, which is the ultimate display of accepting the yolk of heaven upon oneself.
3. The Maharal says that the moment Yaakov saw Yosef, he understood that it was not just that Yosef was alive, but that he was a king. He now understood the chesed that Hashem had performed and thus he recited Shema at that moment to declare his acceptance of the yolk of heaven. This teaches us that when something good happens to us, the first thing we need to remember is that only through the chesed of Hashem do good things happen to us.
4. The sefer Kol Yehuda remarks that as part of Shema, we recite, ואהבת את ה׳ אלוקך בכל לבבך ולכל נפשך, this implies that loving Hashem supersedes the level of any other love that one has.  Therefore, since Yaakov had so much difficulty in his life, whenever he would say ואהבת את ה׳ it was not such a novelty because he didn’t have that much else to love aside from Hashem. However, at a momentous event like meeting up with Yosef, that Yaakov felt the love of Hashem בכל לבבו, and thus he recited Shema.
5. My friend, Jeff Kirshblum suggests an alternate idea in that Yaakov lived a very difficult life. He grew up with an evil twin brother, he struggled with his father-in-law, Lavan. He was led to believe that his beloved son Yosef had been brutally murdered. One might suggest that Yaakov lived a difficult life. Even the years he studied in the Yeshiva of Shem and Eber, he was constantly worried that Eisov might catch up with him. When he met Rachel, he foresaw her early death and he had to work additional years to marry her. It was Yaakov’s faith in Hashem that sustained him throughout the years. When he was finally reunited with Yosef, this could have been the first moment of unadulterated joy he had known in years, maybe even ever. Yaakov took that joy and used it to thank Hashem. How could he not take this wonderful moment to thank Hashem? The message here is that we often turn to Hashem when things are difficult and we need His help. Yaakov is teaching us that we need to thank Hashem at times of joy as well.

I leave it to you to decide;  are any of these answers as good as the question?

Parashat Miketz - Dreams: What Do They Really Mean?

The parasha begins with the famous episode of Pharaoh’s dream. There is a vision of seven robust and beautiful cows that emerge from the river, followed by seven ugly and skeletal cows. The ugly and skeletal cows proceed to consume the robust and beautiful cows, whereupon Pharaoh awakens from the dream. He then falls back asleep and has a second dream, seeing seven healthy ears of grain sprouting forth from the ground, followed by seven thin and scorched ears of grain. In a similar pattern, the seven skinny and scorched ears proceed to consume the seven healthy ears. The pasuk then says something quite interesting that I never stopped before to think about:

ויהי בבקר ותפעם רוחו וישלח ויקרא את כל חרטמי מצרים ואת כל חכמיה ויספר פרעה להם את חלמו  ואין פותר אותם לפרעה. (מא,ח)

“And it was in the morning: His spirit was agitated, so he went and summoned all the necromancers of Egypt and all its wise men; Pharoah related his dream to them, but none could interpret them for Pharaoh.”

We all have dreams. Some  more memorable than others. What in the world was so concerning about this dream that Pharaoh awoke after the first dream? What could have gotten him so agitated after the second dream that had him call in all of his advisors and magicians to help him understand the dream? Why was he so concerned?

Rav Shimon Schwab suggests that as a powerful ruler, Pharaoh was used to seeing the strong defeat the weak, and the many defeat the few. Being the ruler of a powerful and strong country, he had been sitting confident. When he suddenly saw a vision of the weak eating the strong and then the same vision came a second time, he was scared that perhaps this was a message that his throne was in danger of being overtaken. This is why he called in his magicians and advisors; to share both his concern and his need for being sure he was understanding the message correctly.

It is therefore not a coincidence that parashat Miketz always falls out on Chanukah, as a hint to infer that the weak can in fact defeat the strong. This juxtaposition reinforces that Pharaoh’s concern was real and well founded. It appears that Hashem used this vision to “wake” up Pharaoh to confirm his interpretation. What is interesting is that this was not the ultimate message Hashem intended for Pharaoh to walk away with.

The above explains why Pharaoh was concerned. But how are we to understand the end of the pasuk? Despite repeated attempts by his magicians, Pharaoh was not convinced any of them had interpreted the dream properly. Why didn’t he like their interpretations? Furthermore, a young Jewish child is taken out of prison. He interprets the dream and immediately Pharaoh and his officers agree  he got it right. What is going on here? Why did they like his interpretation better?

One could argue the Egyptian magicians suggested interpretations like the one where Pharaoh would have seven sons, and then they would die, and other such suggestions that would affect Pharaoh personally (see Rashi). Yosef’s interpretation stood out because his dream was big; it wasn’t about Pharaoh as a person, but rather it was about Pharaoh as a leader. It was about his country; that there would be seven great agricultural years, followed by seven years of famine. Yosef explained that Hashem was warning Pharaoh to save his people by saving up food during the years of plenty. Pharaoh was a wise leader; he understood  this interpretation had to be correct; that Hashem was speaking to him as a leader.

The message for us? We have to see life beyond ourselves as individuals. For those of us who are married, we have to see the world as “we.” For those of us who have children, we have to see the world as “we.” All of us have a place in the community, and as the saying goes, “we rise by lifting others.” We, the collective we, should always seek ways in which to help another; to be a source of guidance and support. Apropos at this time of the year: The shamash is the candle that lights the others. Be a shamash.

Chanukah: Recognizing the Hand of Hashem in Our Lives

The holiday of Chanukah is in commemoration of two miraculous events: the miracle of one jug of oil lasting eight nights and the great victory of the Maccabees over the Greeks. One might suggest that we do two things to commemorate these two events; that we light the menorah to commemorate the miracle of the oil and we recite hallel on each day of Chanukah to show gratitude for the miraculous victory of war.

But is this really true? Are these two events so distinct? Are these two commemorations so distinctly applied to each event?

The famous Gemara in Shabbat (21) asks מאי חנוכה?, “What was the miracle of Chanukah?” It then proceeds to tell the story of the oil, but concludes by saying the Jews at the time made this into a Yom Tov, and said Hallel. This implies that Hallel is to be thankful for the miracle of the oil? We could similarly ask from the text we recite while lighting the menorah, הנרות הללו..., which primarily describes the miracle of the oil, but it also mentions the victory of the war. So which is it? It seems these two miracles are intertwined.

I had the privilege a few years ago to hear a shiur from my Rebbi, Rabbi Yonason Sacks, Rosh Yeshiva of Lander College for Men. In his shiur, Rabbi Sacks explained the true message of these miracles, and ultimately the true message of Chanukah. The miracle of the oil was clear and undeniable to all. The miracle of the war, however, could be explained rationally as another example of the underdog winning.

Imagine you were there at the time of these miracles; we could visualize the debate over the question of the war being miraculous or not. But then you hear of miracle of oil, which is undeniable, a נס נגלה, which illuminates for us the certainty the war was miraculous as well.

This idea is supported by the words of the Ramban at the end Parashat Bo, where he writes that miracles are there to shed light on everything Hashem does. We do not have a portion in Torat Moshe until we recognize that nothing in life is natural. It is all miraculous – some miracles are open and some are hidden, but they are not brought for that moment; they are brought to help us see that everything comes from Hashem. Rabbi Sacks added that in addition to translating נס as miracle, a נס can also be translated as flag or a banner. Why? Because miracles are intended to reveal to us the miraculous nature of the daily routine. There is no such thing as nature – it is all yad Hashem.  The Maharal expands, saying this is the real reason we needed the miracle of the oil altogether! Many commentators wondered why we needed a miracle at all, as the oil could be used in the Beit Hamikdash despite its impurity; that impurity is overridden when the entire tzibur is impure. It must be that this miracle was really only to shed light, and to indicate that miracle of the war was the same Yad Hashem.  This idea can be seen as well in the Rambam (3:3) where he describes the purpose of lighting the menorah as להראות ולגלות הנס, “to demonstrate and uncover the miracle.” One could have wondered, what are we uncovering? It must be, as explained earlier,  that the miracle of the oil uncovers the great miracle of Hashem, saving us in the aw; both events are miraculous and are absolutely critical. It is for this reason, when we light and say הנרות הללו, we mention the war in addition to the oil, and it is also why the Gemara, when describing מאי חנוכה, mentions the story of the oil but also mentions Hallel – we cannot separate these – they are all part of the same yad Hashem.

Rabbi Sacks concluded his shiur by explaining that most of our Yomim Tovim commemorate נסים גלויים, the open and undeniable miracles of יציאת מצרים, מתן תורה וענני הכבוד, but Chanukah and Purim are dealing with times of galut and hester panim, they are hidden. The purpose of these miracles are to reveal that the miracles of the שלש רגלים teach us how to celebrate Chanukah and Purim. This helps explain why in a Jewish leap year you delay and connect redemption of Purim to Pesach – Pesach represents the open and undeniable miracles, whereas Purim represents the hidden miracles. But these are not independent experiences;  they are all the same Yad Hashem, and it is for this reason we celebrate Purim in Ader Sheini and not Adar Alef.

We must recognize that life in its entirety is a miracle. There is no such thing as coincidence. Our waking up each day, the fact that most of us remain healthy with our physical and emotional capacities intact is in fact miraculous. As we celebrate this Chanukah, let’s be sure we share this idea with our children. Let’s be sure to show them the world is a miraculous place!

Parashat Vayishlach: It's the Little Things that Matter Most

This week’s parasha tells the episode of Yaakov’s struggle with the angel of Eisav. The Torah says, ויתר יעקב לבדו, ויאבק איש עמו עד עלות השחר - “Jacob was left alone and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn.” Many commentators question why Yaakov remained alone? Why did he separate from the rest of his family? Rashi answers that after crossing the river with his family, he realized  he left some small jugs behind and went back to get them. Why? For a few small jugs? It was dangerous to go back alone. What was so important about them? Rashi explains further -- the righteous guard over monetary possessions more than their own bodies;  he went to save these small jugs despite the danger involved. But many commentators suggest there must be an even deeper lesson here. Let’s try to understand it through a parable.

A man once knocked on the door of a home and was greeted by the homeowner. “I absolutely love your house and must have it; I know it is worth $500,000, but I love it so much that I will pay you $1,000,000 for it.” The owner discussed it with his wife and they decided they had no interest in selling. The visitor was persistent and said, “All I need is one room in your amazing house. I will give you $250,000 to buy one room!” The owner discussed it with his wife, who felt this would leave her with little privacy in her own home, and so they rejected this offer as well. The visitor persisted, “All I need is to put one of my nails into your wall and I will pay you $50,000 for it!” The owner discussed this with his wife and they agreed that a nail couldn’t be too intrusive and so they agreed. The visitor came in the home, took a nail, hammered it into the living room wall and left.”

Later that night at 3:00 AM, a knock on the door awoke the homeowner’s wife. She asked her husband to answer the door and there he found the man who purchased a slot in the wall for his nail. The owner inquired to why he was there at such an odd time. The visitor replied, “I couldn’t let the nail stay there without a picture, so I brought a beautiful picture to hang up. I paid a lot of money for this so I must come inside now to hang up the picture. At 4:00 AM the door rang again, the visitor said, “I found an even better picture, I must hang this one up.” The same thing occurred at 5:00 AM, and repeated for a week.

The homeowner's wife told her husband she had enough and had not slept all week. She instructed her husband to go sell the visitor the home. The owner first offered to sell the home for $1,000,000, but the visitor replied, “I no longer need the whole home; I have my nail.” The owner replied, “just take it for the market value of $500,000.” The visitor again replied he no longer needed the home, as he was happy with just his nail. The owner persisted, “I will even sell it at a loss for $250,000; just take it and leave us alone.” But the visitor replied again that he no longer needed the home and was content with his nail. Finally, the owner and his wife were so frustrated that they just got up, left the house and told the visitor he could take over the home for nothing.

The lesson from this story can help us shed light on the importance of the small jugs of Yaakov. Each of us is on a path of growth in avodat Hashem and it is only the yetzer hara that gets in the way. He tries to attack us over small things, just to get his foot in the door, so he can break us down completely. This occurs in two ways:

1. The yetzer hara gets us to do small aveirot which eventually leads us to do bigger aveirot. He gets us first to do small things, convincing us they are not that bad. Once we fall in our spirituality and get used to some aveirot, our guard is down, and he gets us to perform even worse acts.
2. The yetzer hara prevents us from performing small mitzvot first, but eventually that prevents us from performing even bigger mitzvot. Again, he convinces usthe smaller ones are not so important and once we get out of the habit of performing these mitzvot, he is able to more easily prevent us from performing the big ones.

So what is our response? How do we overcome the yetser hara?

1. We need to live in the here and now. We need to take small steps. Remember the small jugs of Yaakov. Taking small steps in our avodat Hashem; not taking on too many new things at once, will allow us to grow in a healthy ways --  ways that will allow us to maintain our growth over the long term.  
2. From a slightly different perspective, we sometimes tragically see ourselves as pachim ketanim and listen to the deflating and denigrating lies of the angel of Eisav. We don’t believe we are capable of greatness; we believe we are worthless pots that are certainly not worth others risking their lives for us. We have to remember that we were all created with our own unique bility to be great and make a difference in the world. We can all achieve greatness!

Parashat Vayeitzei: Being Thankful For What We Have

The Gemara in Brachot (33b) says that one should thank Hashem for the bad that happens in his life the same way that he thanks Him for the good. What exactly did Chazal have in mind here? How can one possibly be thankful for the bad that happens to him? How can a poor person, who has nothing to eat, be as thankful as the wealthy man who affords the world’s finest delicacies? How can one who cannot afford to buy clothing for his children be as thankful as the man who affords closets full of clothing per child?

The Chofetz Chaim explains this with the following parable. A man once presented this question to a Rabbi and was told, “I also do not fully understand our Sages’ words, but we have a real tsaddik in our city who can certainly help you. He suffers a great deal, has barely anything to eat, sleeps on a hard bench and walks around barefoot. This man and his wife receive weekly charity to put the basic necessities on the table, and yet they live a happy life, serving Hashem with happiness, thanking Hashem for all that he has. This person will surely be able to help you understand the words of our sages. The man traveled to the home of this poor man and asked him how he understands the words of our Sages? How do you thank Hashem for all of the bad? To his surprise, the man responded, “You know, I also do not fully understand our Sages’ words. I am not the one who can help you since it seems to me that I never have had a bad day in my life; I lack nothing and Hashem has always been good to me.”

In reality, the tsaddik did not have a wonderful or easy life. But he was thankful for everything he had, and carried himself with a positive attitude which made his life a happy one. From where did he get this attitude? From which of our Avot or Imahot did he see this strength?

In parashat Vayeitzei, the Torah records the birth of Leah’s first four children: Reuven, Shimon, Levi and Yehudah, but the way the Torah characterizes the birth of the fourth son, Yehudah, is a bit odd. The Torah states:

ותהר עוד ותלד בן ותאמר הפעם אודה את ה׳, על כן קראה שמו יהודה, ותעמד מלדת. (כט:לה)

"And she became pregnant again and had a son; and she said: This time I will praise Hashem.” Therefore she called his name Yehudah.”

What does it mean that “this time” she thanked Hashem? Did she not thank Hashem upon the birth of her first three sons?

To make things even more confusing, Rashi on this pasuk quotes the Medrash that says, “From the day that Hashem created the world, no person came to thank Hashem until Leah came and thanked Him here in our parasha with הפעם אודה את ה׳. Why was she so thankful upon the birth of her fourth son? Rashi explains that Leah had a prophesy that through Yaakov there would be twelve tribes from his four wives. With the birth of her fourth son, she gave thanks for having a bigger portion than the other wives. (In actuality she would eventually have six sons).

As if our first question in understanding Chazal was not enough, how are we to possibly understand this Medrash? Leah was the first person to thank Hashem? Was Adam not thankful for being the first man to be created? Was Noach not thankful for being saved from the flood? Was Avraham not thankful for his wife and children? Not Yitzchak either? What does this mean? What is the message for us?

For those of us who are fortunate to have healthy children, we run the risk of taking them for granted. Not just their existence, but the added value that they each bring to the world. Leah understood that having another son meant having another entire tribe that would descend from her. With that came another tribe of people who would serve Hashem and do mitzvot. The domino effect would lead to millions of more mitzvot that would be attributed to Leah. Once Leah realized this, she was astonished and full of thanks.

This could also help us understand why she had more to thank than the Avot and Imahot before her. Until her time, no one had had so many sons to continue their legacy of service of Hashem. Adam only had Kain, Hevel and Sheit, Noach only had Shem, Avraham only had Yitzchak, and Yitzchak only had Yaakov. Leah had the zechut to raise four G-d fearing sons. She felt that having so much more than those before her, obligated her to be that much more thankful.

As Jews, we are called Yehudim, after this name of Yehudah. This name carries a responsibility of not just being thankful for everything we have, but to search for all of the things in our lives that we have to be thankful for. Like the Rabbi in the parable above, we have to see our very existence as a blessing. We have to see our family, our jobs, our community, even the petty things that we tend to focus on as blessings.

How can we teach ourselves to appreciate this reality?

I would argue that the place to start is to take our brachot more seriously. Chazal tell us that we should aim to recite one hundred brachot every day. It is for this reason -- if we are constantly thanking Hashem for what we have and focus on the words, we will come to recognize all of our blessings. Let us all focus on the brachot we recite when waking up in the morning, before we do mitzvot, when we daven, before and after we eat food. There is so much to be thankful for; we just have to open our eyes and see it.

Parashat Toldot: The Power of Peer Pressure

The parasha begins with Rivkah becoming pregnant with twins, and the Torah tells us:

ויתרצצו הבנים בקרבה, ותאמר אם כן למה זה אנכי, ותלך לדרוש את ה׳.

“The children agitated within her, and she said, “If so, why am I thus?” And she went to inquire of Hashem.”

There was something going on inside of her to such an extent that Rivkah needed guidance to support her feelings of distress. Rashi explains that the word ויתרצצו comes from the root רץ, to run. The distress of Rivkah would be incited whenever she would pass by the Torah Academy of Shem and Eber as Yaakov would “run” towards the beit medrash in desire to learn from them, whereas when she passed a house of idol worship, Eisav would “run” and struggle to get out.

The Brisker Rav asks a simple, often unnoticed question. Why did Yaakov want to leave the womb of Rivka to go learn in the yeshiva of Shem and Eber? Was he not already learning in the womb with the angel of Hashem? Chazal teach us that every baby learns the entire magnum opus of Torah while in the womb. As great as Shem and Eber were, could they present a Torah more sweet and grand as the angel of Hashem?

The Beit Halevi gives an astonishing answer to this question. Since Yaakov was in the womb, in the presence of his evil brother Eisav, it was better for him to lose out on learning with an angel, rather than associating  with a wicked person.

I believe this insight vastly enhances the meaning of a famous Mishnah in Pirkei Avot (Chapter 1, Mishnah 7) which says, הרחק משכן רע, ואל תתחבר לרשע. “Distance yourself from a bad neighbor and do not associate yourself with a wicked person.”  The Avot D’Rebi Natan explains one should not associate with a wicked person, even to learn Torah. Meaning, one might think it is ok to befriend the wicked to learn Torah, but Chazal in this Mishnah and the Torah in our parsha are telling us one you should never get close and associate with the wicked.

Taking this one step further, the Vilna Gaon says, “Do not associate with the wicked,” even to bring him closer to Torah. Really? Even if our intent is to bring the wicked closer to Torah, we should not do it? Why is this so?

Let’s ask one more question before we try and understand the deeper message here. The exact words in the Mishnah in Avot immediately preceding this says והוי דן את כל האדם לכף זכות, “that you should give everyone the benefit of the doubt.” Does it make sense to go straight from giving the benefit of the doubt to not even going near the wicked, even to learn Torah or to try and bring him closer to Torah?

I believe the message here is crucial for all of us. We live in an inclusive society, which for the most part is very positive. We encourage acceptance of differences, not being judgmental, having an open mind and giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. But the Torah is teaching us that we should not be inclusive when it jeopardizes our religious stability or that of  our families. True Torah observance and commitment requires strength, consistency, and the ability to rise above peer pressure. This is even more difficult in today’s society where there is so much pulling at us, much of which can be tugging at our religious sensitivities. Yaakov is teaching us that it is better to leave the best chavruta in the world, the angel of Hashem, rather than associate with the wicked. To avoid negative religious influences, are your challenges as big as that? What do you have to give up to ensure you and your children remain close to the pathways of the Torah?

Parashat Chayei Sarah: Making the Most of Every Minute

Many of our children take a year off between high school and college to spend the year learning in Israel. I, too, had that privilege - I spent that time  learning many valuable lessons. I would have to say, the single most important thing I learned that year is the Jewish value of time. Let’s use this week’s parasha to elaborate on what I mean.

וַיִּֽהְיוּ֙ חַיֵּ֣י שָׂרָ֔ה מֵאָ֥ה שָׁנָ֛ה וְעֶשְׂרִ֥ים שָׁנָ֖ה וְשֶׁ֣בַע שָׁנִ֑ים שְׁנֵ֖י חַיֵּ֥י שָׂרָֽה:
“And the life of Sarah was one hundred years and twenty years and seven years; [these were] the years of the life of Sarah.”

Many commentators wonder why the Torah chooses to split up the numbers of Sarah’s lifespan into 100 and 20 and 7. But I choose to question the end of the pasuk; why the need to repeat the words “these were the years of the life of Sarah?” The beginning of the pasuk already said “and the life of Sarah was…,” why the need to repeat this at the end of the same pasuk?

Rashi suggests the message is to emphasize that all the days of Sarah’s life were equally good. But what does this mean? What exactly was equally good?

There is a Medrash (Beraishit Rabba 58:3) relating to a story that could shed light on the message of Sarah’s life. The Medrash relates that Rabbi Akiva was sitting and teaching his students Torah, when his audience began to fall asleep (every good Rabbi experiences this phenomenon at some point.) In an attempt to awaken his students, R’ Akiva said: “Why was Queen Esther seen fit to rule over 127 countries? Let the daughter of Sarah, who lived 127 years, rule over 127 countries.”  What does this mean? What was R’ Akiva trying to convey? Rav Asher Weiss explains that R’ Akiva had been in the middle of a lesson, teaching his students the importance of learning Torah, and how Torah can only be mastered by totally committing yourself to its pursuit. Torah is not something that can be acquired by kicking your feet back with a cup of coffee for a few minutes. This was learned from our forefathers who taught us to utilize every day to our fullest potential. Sarah lived for 127 years and “all of the days of her life were equally good,”, meaning she sanctified every moment of her life by applying each and every waking moment to the service of Hashem.

Similarly, Queen Esther must have learned this lesson from her great-great-great grandmother Sarah. It is hard enough to rule over 1 country; how does one rule over 127 countries successfully? It can only be done by paying careful attention to each and every city to ensure there is no rebellion which could ultimately spread out of control. She would have had to pay attention to everyone. The only possible way to do this would be to maximize every day of her life; a lesson she learned from Sarah Immeinu.

Wow! What an important lesson! It is our duty to maximize our time, to maximize each day of our lives. My experiences from my post high school year in Israel, coupled with this lesson from Sarah Immeinu, teach us that time is precious. Let us never look to “waste some time,” or look to do things just to “pass some time.” I don’t know how many of us will live until 120, but Sarah lived longer; she lived until 127 and made the most of every minute! We can do it too!

Parashat Vayeira - The Root of Morality

For the second time in as many parshiyot, Sarah is thrown into a situation where she is told to act as if  she is the brother of Avraham. On a simple level, we understand Avraham’s intentions were to save himself, for if she were to say she was his wife, they would kill him to take her.  But upon closer look, the text of these two incidents are not the same. When going down to Egypt and Pharaoh in Parashat Lach Lecha, Avraham actually says,

ויהי כאשר הקריב לבוא מצרימה ויאמר אל שרי אשתו, הנה נה ידעתי כי אשה יפת מראה את.

והיה כי יראו אתך המצרים ואמרו אשתו זאת והרגו אתי ואתך יחיו.

אמרי נא אחתי את, למען ייטב לי בעבורך וחיתה נפשי בגללך (יב:יא-יג)

Avraham warns Sarah that the Egyptians might see her beauty and upon hearing he is her husband, they might kill him. Therefore, she should say she is his sister.

However, when looking at the pesukim in this week’s parasha as Avraham and Sarah go south to Grar, all the Torah says is,

ויאמר אברהם אל שרה אשתו אחתי היא, וישלח אבימלך מלך גרר ויקח את שרה (כ:ב).

The text simply says that Avraham told Avimelech that Sarah was his sister.  The text makes no mention of Avraham warning Sarah about this or what his reasons were. Rashi suggests that after being taken by Pharaoh in last week’s parasha, Avraham feared that Sarah might not consent to this ploy for a second time. Here I offer another possibility, but it requires looking at a few more pesukim.

As the story with Avimelech continues, he takes Sarah, but before anything can happen, Hashem appears to him in a dream and says not to touch her for she is a married woman. Avimelech not only listens to Hashem, but claims his innocence for not knowing she was married; Hashem concedes Avimelech’s character would not have done anything with Sarah had he known she was married. Moreover, Avimelech wakes up in a panic, calls in his cabinet and tells them what happened and וייראו האנשים מאד, they were all frightened. It is clear that everyone is upset and scared. But why? The story continues as Avimelech goes to Avraham; This is where the message of the entire episode is found. Avimelech says, what did you do to me? By saying she was your sister you almost caused me to sin with a married woman. We do not do things like that in this place! Then comes the big question from Avimelech:

? What did you see here that caused you to do this- מה ראית כי עשית את הדבר הזה?

At this point, I feel sorry for Avimelech; he is upset about almost committing a huge sin, is seemingly not only sincere, but  seems right in his accusation against Avraham. What do you expect Avraham to answer? This is what Avraham replies,

ויאמר אברהם כי אמרתי רק אין יראת אלקים במקום הזה, והרגוני על דבר אשתי.

Sorry, Avimelech, there is no fear of G-d here and I was worried you would kill me to get to Sarah. Can this be correct? Am I understanding this correctly? We just had numerous pesukim showing Avimelech’s fine character. Chazal confirms that the city of Grar was a place of culture and morals (unlike Egypt), and Avraham’s response is that there is no fear of G-d? At first glance, this looks like Avraham spitting in Avimelech’s face. How is Avraham answering the question? What is even more puzzling is that Avimelech does not respond, apparently conceding to Avraham’s statement. What does this all mean?

My Rabbi of four years at Yeshiva University, Rabbi Abba Bronspigiel, suggested the following answer based on the commentary of Rav Hirsch and the Malbim. Avraham was saying the following: It is true that Grar is a place of fine culture and morals, but any time societal norms are based on anything but fear of G-d, there is the fear that they can change at any moment.

Perhaps today society does not condone illicit relationships, but if you want something badly enough and you are the King, you can just as easily change the norms. The only thing that is eternal and non-breakable are the laws created by G-d himself. Unfortunately, history has proven this to be true. Pre-World War Two Germany was viewed as a place of fine culture and high morals. There were even animal protection laws that were more more protective than those in most civilized countries today. (CLICK HERE to read about this). And yet, we all know how quickly the norms and acceptable practices changed in Germany. If they are not G-d given laws, they can change in a heartbeat. This was the answer Avraham gave to Avimelech and Avimelech’s lack of response shows he understood why Avraham was concerned for his life.

Perhaps we can use this idea to understand the differences in the Torah’s description of the events in Egypt vs. the events in Grar. When Avraham and Sarah go down to Egypt, they are going to a place known for its licentiousness, immorality and lewd behavior. In this instance, the Torah describes the detail and motivation of Avraham’s plan with Sarah. This was done as a warning, not just for Sarah, but for all of us to understand that when it comes to immoral places, we must do everything in our power to avoid the bad influences, perhaps even extending the truth. But when a similar episode occurs in Grar, the city of fine character and morals that are not based on fear of G-d, Sarah does not need any explanation. Like Avraham, she understood  he would be concerned about these non-G-d made norms and practices. The Torah didn’t want us to think  this situation was just like Egypt; no, it was an even harder challenge as it seemed like a nice city. To teach us this valuable lesson, the Torah chose to say less and hide this message in the story line. Perhaps the Torah not explicitly detailing Avraham explaining this to Sarah indicates, unlike Rashi’s concern, that she might not go along with it, but rather, she didn’t need any convincing at all.

Parashat Lech Lecha - The Test of Change

We are taught that Avraham Avinu was given ten tests by Hashem to develop and become the Patriarch of monotheism. We find one of these tests hinted to at the end of last week’s parasha when Chazal teach us the story of Avraham being thrown by Nimrod, the wicked king, into a fiery furnace. We find another test in the beginning of this week’s parasha when Avraham is asked to leave the comforts of his home and travel to some uncertain location.

As an educator, there is something odd about the sequence of these tests. If a teacher were to give a child an exam that assesses advanced algebra and geometry, would it make sense for him to create a second assessment that covers basic addition and subtraction? Isn’t that what Hashem is doing here? After such a huge test, being asked to give up his life and jump into a furnace, does it make sense to be given the apparently smaller test of leaving his hometown to travel to somewhere else? If he passed the first more difficult test, wouldn’t it be obvious that he could pass this second, easier test?

Rav Chaim Pinchas Sheinberg zt”l offers an insight that not only explains the sequence of these events, but it enlightens our viewpoint of life’s challenges. He says that the essence of a test “lies in the power to awaken in a man’s spirit his hidden potential for greatness and to bring it out into reality.” A test is not measured by how big or difficult it appears, but rather by the potential it has to have man grow beyond his natural inclinations and change them. The test of the fiery furnace at Ur Kasdim was huge; Avraham consciously chose to give up his life for Hashem, rather than acknowledge idol worship. But as big of a test as that was, it was a single, isolated, one-time event. It was an event, not a process.

The Vilna Gaon writes that the main purpose of a person’s life is to constantly grow and improve one’s character. He uses a strange language and says, and if you don’t do this, “why live?” Is there nothing else to living? The answer is NO. Do not think that you can live a life of Torah and Mitzvot without also refining your character; without improving your middot, our lives are nothing at all.

We know character refinement is hard, because it requires us to break our natural habits and inclinations. We all become accustomed to acting in certain ways that become second nature; to change that is very difficult. Hashem is teaching us with the test of Lech Lecha that we can change. A person can change his nature if he makes a continuous and intense effort. Avraham is told to first leave his country, then his family and finally his father’s house. To leave his country is not as difficult as leaving his family; leaving his family is not as difficult as leaving his father; that is just too hard to imagine. So the test of Lecha Lecha goes from easier to harder, hence being the test of change, divorcing oneself from the comfortable past. In essence, the test of Ur Kasdim was unique; to die al kiddush Hashem is not an opportunity that everyone is given. However, that was a one time, out of the ordinary test. In some way that is easier than going through the daily grind of continuous personal growth.

We all face tests on a daily basis. We wake up in the morning and are confronted with making the choice to take time to pray. We enter the workplace where we are confronted with challenges of honesty and integrity; do we cut corners to make an extra buck or to save ourselves some time? Do we treat everyone we encounter with a warm, friendly demeanor? These kind of tests call into question some of our basic tendencies, what we have grown accustomed to doing, the way “we have always done things.”

Hashem first tested Avraham with death and then with life. For the test of death, Avraham was helped with the miracles of Hashem. For the test of life, he was left to grow completely on his own. Are you ready for that test?