On Shavuos, Jews have the custom to read the Book of Ruth. The subtext of the book is how crucial it is to pursue a stake in Torah and to want to be a part of the Jews. The conclusion of the story is the genealogy of Ruth’s descendants, culminating in David drawing from her lineage – and Moshiach too.

It is pertinent to note that the story is not a happy one. Boaz died the morning after he redeemed her, leaving her a pregnant widow. She never saw the happy ending, nor did Boaz or Naomi see the vindication of their actions. David’s rise was generations after they had passed.

This clearly indicates that God’s justice is not simple or immediate, but calculated over centuries and generations.

The Chasam Sofer notes that the story of Cain and Abel is included in the Torah, right at the beginning, to teach precisely this lesson. God favoured Abel, and Cain murdered him out of jealousy. Yet Cain is recorded to have lived for 1,600 years, with countless descendants. Where is the justice? The Chasam Sofer notes that every single one of them died in the Flood, long afterward.

Justice is complicated. It is curious to note that the end of the book – the ostensibly happy ending that paints her struggle as having been worthwhile – the genealogy of Moshiach is consistently from apparently odd couplings.

Ruth was descended from Moav, borne of incest between Lot and his daughters. The other child born of this was Amon, of whom Shlomo’s wife Naama was a member.

The line of Yehuda was descended from Peretz, borne of the bizarre story of Yehuda and Tamar. The Gemara says that he lost his free will when he approached the crossroads and spotted her.

Boaz himself fainted at the sight of Ruth in his bed chambers. Everyone castigated him, supporting Ploni Almoni’s arguments. The day after adjudicating Ruth’s case, he died. Certainly the simpletons labelled his death as divine justice, wrath and retribution.

The story of David and Batsheva is equally odd. The Gemara says whoever says David sinned is making a mistake. But whoever says he didn’t sin is also making a mistake!

Moshiach appears through bizarre circumstances. Incest, prostitution, adultery, and promiscuity only track the origin of the house of David!

The reason Moshiach is needed is compelling. Although life is geared towards earning Olam Haba, the World to Come, that alone is not enough. If it were, an individual could take care of themselves, and leave the world to its damned fate, to burn and unravel. Clearly we do not believe this. This world needs repair. We have to do what we can to make it a better place – and Moshiach will finish the job. His origin reflects the nature of his task. Emerging from the ashes of a broken world to fix it.

Shavuos is the moment we were chosen; through which the entire universe was perpetuated. Perhaps Ruth is read to remind ourselves that the responsibilities entailed are hard, laborious, and seem fruitless. They may even be genuinely fruitless for us. But we must persevere and endure, fortified with the knowledge that’s what right isn’t always what’s easy.

Shavuos is very different to the other Chagim.

Each Yom Tov celebrates something, and there tends to be a mitzva specific to it. Shavuos does not explicitly recall a specific event – the Torah does not record it as remembrance of anything; once the count from Pesach is complete, it is עצרת, a stop. There is no specific personal mitzva either.

No other Chag has a build up beforehand, whereas Shavuos has the 3 days of preparation where the Jews readied themselves to receive the Torah.

The Chagim require pilgrimage to Jerusalem, along with which every Jew who makes the journey must bring a sacrifice. For the other Chagim, this can only be brought within the seven days of Chag. Shavuos however, has a six day window after, in which people can bring this offering.

These various laws mark Shavuos as being in a fundamentally different wavelength to the other Chagim. To what end is it different?

The other Chagim celebrate greatness and grandeur on God’s part; that He saved us; the He sheltered us; that He is majestic in judgment; that He is benevolent in forgiveness. But Shavuos does not.

There is a story in the Gemara that R Yosef told his servant to bring fat calf in celebration of Shavuos, because if not for Shavuos, there’d be lots of Yosef’s on street.

It seems odd that Shavuos was the specific festival that saves people from the street, and that if it did, is the way to mark it with a lavish feast?

Moshe emphasised to the Jews that they people don’t deserve God’s love, it is a gift:

כִּי עַם קָדוֹשׁ אַתָּה, לה אֱלֹהֶיךָ: בְּךָ בָּחַר ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, לִהְיוֹת לוֹ לְעַם סְגֻלָּה, מִכֹּל הָעַמִּים, אֲשֶׁר עַל-פְּנֵי הָאֲדָמָה. לֹא מֵרֻבְּכֶם מִכָּל-הָעַמִּים, חָשַׁק ה בָּכֶם–וַיִּבְחַר בָּכֶם: כִּי-אַתֶּם הַמְעַט, מִכָּל-הָעַמִּים. כִּי מֵאַהֲבַת ה אֶתְכֶם – You are a holy people to God. It is you He has selected, to be his chosen people, from all other nations on the face of the earth. You have not been chosen because you are mighty; you’re not. Purely because He loves you so… (7:6-8)

Moshe explained them that God declared His love for the Jews, and it was not because they had earned it. It was unconditional – they brought nothing to the table. Like winning the lottery, we celebrate our good fortune in having been chosen. This is עצרת – “stopping” – to take stock of the monumental opportunity and position in which this places us.

The Torah calls Shavuos שבועותיכם – “your Shavuos”. The Torah does not call any other Chag “yours” – סוכותיכם or פתחיכם. Shavuos is our Yom Tov. It is for us and about us. There is no mitzva, because the Chag is marked by just being Jews. There is no mitzva as it would limit and confine the expression of love to something. The greatness and luck we have is too awesome to simplify.

However, there is a caveat. To digest and incorporate what it entails, it can’t simply be an experience. It demands an integral preparation that the others don’t; the three days of preparation. The six day window in which one can still bring an offering is the return to a normal, everyday, mundane life. But the six day window clearly and undeniably links everyday life to that day.

Shavuos was not the day the Torah was given. That was on Yom Kippur, when Moshe came down the second time and told them they’d been forgiven. The Midrash says that Shavuos is when Moshe ascended, and was confronted by angels, who could not abide for the Torah to be given to man, or in their parlance, “one borne of a woman”, an epithet alluding to his mundane, material existence. But God told him that Torah was always meant for man.

The Gemara about R Yosef alludes to this. The speciality of Shavuos is marked by celebrating physicality because that is precisely what elevates the human being. We are holy because we are human, and achieving means so much more.

The Sfas Emes quotes the Kotzker that God has plenty of holy angels. What He wants from us is holy people.

The Ramban says that Shmita and the Yovel cycle are fundamental mitzvos.

Something is lost on us today – slavery and a global agricultural society have mostly vanished from Earth with the advent of industry; Shmita and Yovel have long been missing large chunks of their key halachos, for thousands of years.

Consider the fact that when the Ramban classified it as fundamental, Yovel hadn’t been properly marked for centuries. When the laws associated with it seems so antiquated, archaic, and arguably irrelevant, what about it is fundamental?

The Pnei Yehoshua explains that Yovel is not just a time when slaves go free – it is a Yom Tov that celebrates freedom and liberty. The Sfas Emes notes that the nation was born by being liberated from the crucible of Egypt.

After millennia of exiles, restrictions on movement, bans, pogroms, genocide, and general oppression, society has developed to give all people human and civil rights; Jews can now practice Judaism relatively freely, to the extent that young people today have little to no idea of what it means to not be free. While progress is undoubtedly a good thing, we must be vigilant not to take our rights for granted.

One of the brachos said daily is שלא עשני עבד – perhaps this alludes to the principle that we do not take our unprecedented liberties for granted. But our ancestors said it even whilst it wasn’t strictly true – when they were harried and enslaved! So perhaps it doesn’t refer exclusively to our bodies.

The Sfas Emes explains that the body is a vessel for the soul. With discipline, the body can simply be an appendage of the soul; physicality can be transformed into spirituality. To do so, the soul must lead the way, so that the body is almost passive in decisions. The Mishna in Avos says לא מצאתי לגוף טוב אלא שתיקה – I found nothing better for the body than silence. The Sfas Emes notes that the emphasis is on silence for the body specifically. When the body is silenced with deference to the soul, it is elevated.

This is precisely mirrored in Yovel. The land is dormant and fallow for a year, and man internalises that God is the true provider of sustenance and nourishment. Matter is led by the soul. A microcosm of this is reflected in the fact that humans are the only creatures that are made to stand upright. We strive to reach upwards, and animals cannot.

Yovel was dedicated to displaying our gratitude that we are always able to serve God – indicated by the shofar being blown. A slave, whose entire existence is subjugated to his owner, goes free on Yovel. It becomes abundantly clear why it is classified a foundational mitzva; freedom is a wonderfully thing that we are very grateful for. But perhaps it also shows that even under oppression, slavery, and exile, we are nonetheless subjugated exclusively to God. The Zohar says that on Yovel, everything returns to its source.

The soul always remains free.

The Cohanim are restricted over and above other Jews with regard to certain laws:

לֹא-יקרחה קָרְחָה בְּרֹאשָׁם, וּפְאַת זְקָנָם לֹא יְגַלֵּחוּ; וּבִבְשָׂרָם–לֹא יִשְׂרְטוּ, שָׂרָטֶת. קְדֹשִׁים יִהְיוּ – A razor may not pass over your head, nor may you remove your beard. Do not cut your skin. Be holy… (21:5-6)

The prohibition on men to remove all their hair is actually not specific to Cohanim, and pertains to all Jews. The Maharil Diskin explains why.

Jews are defined by their actions, not appearance. A Jew is recognised by their force of good deeds and quality of character. In popular culture however, we know all too well that in the age of “celebrity”, a makeover is somehow newsworthy. Appearances are deceptive; the same person is perceived differently by looking different, yet remaining the same.

But how is the principle that appearances aren’t all they seem, taught from the laws of a Cohen – who actually have a uniform they are required to wear?

Perhaps a distinction can be drawn. The uniform is not universal – that would truly be meaningless. The uniform is exclusive to Cohanim. An on-duty Cohen is serving God in the Beis HaMikdash – the clothing is for the office, not the individual.

The way you dress might not be appropriate for a monarch or head of state. They have to dress up out of respect for the office, not themselves – not a hair can be out of place. But as God’s people, as princes and princesses one and all, we have to dress for the office too. Not everyone has to have a suit and black hat; everyone is at a different place. But we have to respect who we are enough to dress with class and dignity.

Shabbos HaGadol – “The Great Shabbos” – is an anniversary of a one off event. The Jews were automatically safe from the first nine plagues; but for the tenth they had to do something to be saved – two things, to be precise: circumcision and the Korban Pesach. Through these mitzvos they were saved, earning freedom as a result.

The Korban Pesach was to be set aside on the Shabbos a few days before they left, the tenth of Nissan. Shabbos HaGadol memorialises that event.

It is highly unusual to mark a day of the week, and not the calendar date of an event. Yet the Shabbos before Pesach is when we remember that the Pesach sacrifice was to be set aside, and not the tenth of Nissan. Why?

The Sfas Emes expounds how Shabbos is the transition between the previous week and the next. It is the culmination of what came before, and sets the tone of what is to come. Particularly with regard to redemption, Shabbos has trappings of eternity and liberation, with an eye to the conclusion of Creation. As such, the pending Exodus required a particular investment on the people’s part to earn redemption the coming week. It was Shabbos that the instruction was particular to, and the calendar date was incidental – this is why it is remembered on the Shabbos before Pesach. Shabbos sets the tone for redemption and Geula.

But why is it called Great – HaGadol?

The Sfas Emes teaches that the “greatness” refers to the Jews. The Jews had little or no merit; they kept their names, clothing and language, but had literally nothing else. By following the instruction to prepare for the mitzva of Korban Pesach, they matured as a nation, and became capable of greatness, and worthy of redemption. The surrender to God’s will and removal of other influences, particularly Paroh’s, made the nation “great”. They became big, or adult – HaGadol.

R’ Shlomo Farhi explains that the separation of the sheep, a sacred animal in Egypt, was not just symbolic of their intent to eat it. It correlated to the second commandment – that there be no other false gods or entities, including Paroh. This was actually a prerequisite to the first commandment, that Hashem is God, exemplified by the Korban Pesach a few days later. They couldn’t just add Hashem to the pile; they had to make a clear distinction.

The Sfas Emes notes that setting the animal aside wasn’t even a real mitzva – it was never replicated later on in any commandments. It was a one-off instruction in Egypt. It is not a mitzva that we remember then. Instead, the we remember that the Jews took a very tentative, but very tangible first step. The Gemara gives an analogy that if a person makes an opening the size of the eye of a needle, God can then turn it into a grand ballroom. It is Shabbos HaGadol because all subsequent greatness stemmed from that first baby step, that seemed like so little.

Shabbos HaGadol also parallels Shabbos Shuva, only from a different perspective. Shabbos Shuva is Teshuva from Fear, and Shabbos HaGadol is Teshuva from Love – and love is stronger than fear. The nature of Shabbos HaGadol and Pesach after is that the relationship between God and His people is so strong that the redemption comes without deserving it – the same is true of Teshuva and prayer. This is precisely how they were pulled out if Egypt – they were given access to so much by doing something so small.

That first step forward makes all the difference. Take the initiative!

Two of the mitzvos particular to Purim are Mishloach Manos, and Matanos L’Evyonim – giving gifts to people, and distributing charity freely. The Sfas Emes explains that the function of these mitzvos as they relate to Purim is that they increase unity and brotherhood.

Unity is the anathema of Amalek, who Haman was descended of. His complaint to Achashverosh:

יֶשְׁנוֹ עַם אֶחָד מְפֻזָּר וּמְפֹרָד בֵּין הָעַמִּים בְּכֹל מְדִינוֹת מַלְכוּתֶךָ וְדָתֵיהֶם שֹׁנוֹת מִכָּל עָם – There is one nation, scattered and dispersed among all the regions of your kingdom, and they are different from everyone else. (3:8)

Even in exile, Jews must maintain identity, and resist assimilation. Haman points out their refusal to integrate, they remain עַם אֶחָד – one nation; this in spite of how the Purim story begins with the Jews attending Achashverosh’s party celebrating their own downfall with the parading of the sacked Temple’s artefacts. The Jews lost their identity and it paved the way for Haman’s nefarious plans to destroy them all – the moment they let their guard down.

The resolution came at the hand of Mordechai and Esther. She tells him to unite the people and impress on them the severity of their futures:

כְּנוֹס אֶת כָּל הַיְּהוּדִים הַנִּמְצְאִים בְּשׁוּשָׁן וְצוּמוּ עָלַי וְאַל תֹּאכְלוּ וְאַל תִּשְׁתּוּ שְׁלֹשֶׁת יָמִים לַיְלָה וָיוֹם – Gather all the Jews in Shushan. Fast for me; don’t eat or drink for three days and nights. (4:16)

The threat is faced when they gather once more, when the Megila tells us that וְעָמֹד עַל נַפְשָׁם – it does not say ועמדו in the plural, that they stood for their lives, but in the singular. Their national identity had discovered. The Jewish nation had united and defended itself from attack.

It is famously expounded in Chazal that Purim also celebrates קימו מה שקיבלו כבר – the Jews had no choice to accept the Torah at Sinai, but after Purim they accepted the Torah afresh, voluntarily. A prerequisite to the Torah is unity; ויחן שם נגד ההר – The nation camped by the mountain, in the singular – not ויחנו – like one man with one heart. The Sfas Emes teaches that וְעָמֹד עַל נַפְשָׁם is directly parallel to ויחן שם נגד ההר.

Unity is fortified with acts of ואהבת לרעך כמוך – loving ones fellow as oneself. If people identify with the nation, they have a very direct connection to the Torah and Sinai. It is quite reasonable to suggest that due to this, it is taught that זה כלל גדול בתורה.

The Gemara says that Mordechai is identified as an איש יהודי. It asks that he was not from Yehuda, but from Binyamin, and answers that we do not read it יהודי, but יחידי – from the root אחד. He brought unity and identity back to Jews who had lost it, cementing their faith, culminating in a new acceptance of the Torah. All mitzvos of the day will reflect unity and friendship to some degree.

The way to fight Amalek is a constant quest for unity and understanding our identity, and the closer we get, the nearer we get ultimate truth and redemption.

Having delivered word of a fair few plagues already, Moshe is told to go see Paroh again, and the reason he is given is quite bizarre:

וַיֹּאמֶר ה אֶל-מֹשֶׁה, בֹּא אֶל-פַּרְעֹה: כִּי-אֲנִי הִכְבַּדְתִּי אֶת-לִבּוֹ -Hashem said to Moshe, “Go see Paroh, because I’ve hardened his heart”. (10:1)

What is the cause and effect in the instruction? Why is the fact Moshe is sent related to Hashem hardening his heart?

The Sfas Emes explains that Paroh’s heart was hardened, meaning his resolve was given the endurance to withstand the plagues. This was the challenge Moshe was sent to address.

The Sfas Emes teaches that every Jew must know that every hurdle and obstacle they will ever face in life is a challenge straight from God. It is precisely because God is testing you that you must rise to the occasion. When a כִּי-אֲנִי הִכְבַּדְתִּי אֶת-לִבּוֹ is placed before us, is precisely when we receive the instruction of בֹּא אֶל-פַּרְעֹה.

To recap history; the fast of Asara b’Teves marks the beginning of the final siege of Jerusalem. On 17 Tamuz the walls were breached; and on 9 Av, the Temple was sacked and destroyed.

Asara b’Teves has a quirk to it in Halacha. The BeHaG, a late Rishon, ruled that the fast on the tenth if Teves is observed on Shabbos, and Friday too. This never occurs with our fixed calendar, but with the fluctuating calendar it could. The same is not true of any other fast, barring Yom Kippur – what is markedly different about Asara b’Teves that it could be observed in Shabbos?

A story is told of a sad old gentleman, one Shabbos afternoon in the city of Psyszcha. Noticing his despondency, R’ Simcha Bunim ambled over to him, and told him that sadness has no place on Shabbos. “Rosh Chodesh and Yom Kippur, Shabbos steps aside. But not for Tisha b’Av!”

Sadness has no place on Shabbos – so again, why does Asara b’Teves have the capacity to override regular Shabbos observance?

The Shulchan Aruch records the law that for certain types of bad dreams, a person can and should fast (if they are bothered by what they saw). Such a fast can be observed even on Shabbos, also overriding regular Shabbos observance. The reason for this is that for such a person, addressing his concerns and fears is his only way of having a peaceful Shabbos.

Dealing with such matters that require resolution is not sadness, and makes perfect sense.

There is a Gemara that states that if a generation fails to see the Temple rebuilt in their days, it is considered to have been destroyed in their days. The Chasam Sofer says that Halachically, the evaluation is very simple; if the Temple existed at that moment, would it continue to? If it is not built yet, it is because it would not last in such an environment.

The last time this evaluation generated a different outcome was Asara b’Teves – the generation failed and the siege began, setting into motion a chain of events. This lends an extra function beyond that of stirring a person to Teshuva, like a regular fast.

It then emerges why it overrides regular Shabbos observance; like the bad dream, the looming cloud disturbs and threatens us. It is a din Torah, a court case. It overrides Shabbos because it is detrimental to our Oneg Shabbos – our concern should be for its construction, may it come quickly.

On Chanukah, two main miracles happened. First, the uprising against the Greeks; and secondly, the reestablishment of the Beis HaMikdash service, particularly finding the oil for the Menora, surviving despite attempts to sabotage, which subsequently lasted a week longer than it was meant to.

For the duration of Chanukah, an additional paragraph is inserted into our prayers. It’s contents discuss the incredibly unlikely military victory the Jewish rebels had, defeating a vastly superior Greek army. Yet the way we celebrate Chanuka revolves entirely around the second miracle, finding the oil which lasted an extra week.

Is there a discrepancy? Probably not.

However, a comprehensive military victory is miraculous, and while not entirely impossible, still fairly unlikely. But unlikely victories happen enough throughout history to downgrade it’s importance. Is it not a miracle at all then? Again, probably not.

As an isolated event, the successful war was not quite miraculous. But coupled with the oil, it was transformed. The quest to find uncontaminated oil was noble, but seemingly misguided. There is a premise in Judaism called טומאה הותרה בציבור – Purity isn’t necessarily required for public service. So why were they adamant to have it?

The Maccabees were motivated by a pursuit of fundamentalism. They were literally the extremists resisting modern interference in their lives, and did not want to compromise. So they looked for an uncontaminated pitcher of oil, and found one. But this too is only unlikely, and not impossible.

But something incredible happened, the quintessential Chanuka miracle. It lasted for eight days, not one. This marked something incredible – Hashem approved of their campaign! They were totally vindicated, and their achievements were framed in a new light – they were miracles!

On specials occasions, a blessing called שהחיינו is made, that thanks Hashem for the opportunity of living to see a momentous event. The completion of the Torah cycle on Simchas Torah seems to fit the criteria needed to say the blessing, so why don’t we say it?

It isn’t said on Shavuos, commemorating the Torah being received, because it marks the beginning, and the blessing of שהחיינו is only said at conclusions – otherwise nothing has happened yet!

R Shlomo Farhi points out that the first word in the Torah is בראשית, and the last, ישראל. The first and last letters in the Torah spell out the anagram לב – heart. What Hashem wants from us is an emotional commitment.

But in the correct order, it also spells out בל, as in בלבל or מבלבל, meaning “confusion” or “mixed up”. When we look at the ocean of Torah looking forwards, it is בלבל, uncharted and unknown territory. But looking back, it is לב. A cycle is never isolated – every new cycle lends further light on previous cycles, and new insights always discovered.

Truly, this lends light on the adage that the Torah never finishes, and we immediately start again from the beginning. There is truly no end, only a constant battle against בלבל by way of לב, finishing again. And again. And again.

The job is never done, never finished, and as such, no שהחיינו is made – or in other words, there’s no והגיענו!

Avraham and Hashem spoke many times. We find that after the instruction to leave his birthplace, something happens that never happened before:

וַיִּפֹּל אַבְרָם, עַל-פָּנָיו; וַיְדַבֵּר אִתּוֹ אֱלֹהִים, לֵאמֹר – Avraham fell on his face, and God spoke to him. (17:3)

Hashem tells him what truly lies ahead for Avraham, and tells him that the symbol of the covenant will be the mitzva of circumcision.

Avraham falls over, as if he is recoiling, as though he were burned. This is unique to this command – Avraham doesn’t fall over at any other time Hashem speaks to him. So what changed now, that it never happened before?

R’ Chaim Soloveitchik explains that until the command to circumcise was delivered, the fact he hadn’t done it yet didn’t render him ערל – the term used for an uncircumcised person. The beginning of the communication requiring it was when it was expected – it suddenly became a deficiency, and literally could not stand God’s presence in this state.

R’ Shlomo Farhi explains that this rubs both ways.

What is expected of all Jews is nothing less that absolute, perfect dedication and diligent mitzva performance. But everything is a long way away from anything less that that, so improvements can be gradual. So long as a person is not ready to take on more, the fact they haven’t yet done so is no problem at all – it’s perfectly reasonable in fact!

But equally, the moment they are ready for more and are content to stay out, suddenly a new burden is cast upon them – וַיִּפֹּל אַבְרָם, עַל-פָּנָיו.

There’s nothing wrong with someone not ready for more. But sometimes more is expected, and the challenge must be taken.

Avraham’s true ascent to greatness begins when Hashem calls on him:

וַיֹּאמֶר ה אֶל-אַבְרָם, לֶךְ-לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָ וּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ, אֶל-הָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָּ – Hashem said to Avram; “Go – לְךָ – from your land; from your birthplace; the home of your ancestors; to the land which I will show you. (12:1)

The instruction is an odd one, without delving into the nuances of the structure of order things to leave. לֶךְ-לְךָ is taken at face value to mean “Go, for you” – ie it is in his interests to follow.

The Kli Yakar takes issue with this, and says that לְךָ is not “for you”, but “to you” – “you” is the destination, by way of הָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָּ. He is told to leave where he is to become who who he will be – independent and great. This is לְךָ.

Avraham was not the first to recognise Hashem, nor was he the only righteous person of his day. But he was the first who taught and lived accordingly – he is not noted for his great faith, but for his great kindness and warmth.

This was what made him remarkable. There was a synthesis between what he believed and how he lived.

Recognition of Hashem is very little without recognition of the soul – the spark of God within us all. There needs to be a fusion of these two components to meet the responsibility incumbent on us to be a לְךָ – independent, quality people.

The Midrash teaches that the idea of Teshuva predates the universe, and that Teshuva does not wipe the slate entirely clean, but a small root of the transgression remain with the individual.

Teshuva is the flipside of the same coin as being tested. Hashem wants us to pass tests, but tests can be failed. In that case, there is Teshuva. Genuine Teshuva enables someone to learn from their mistakes, and move on.

When learning to ride a bicycle and you lose your balance; you fall and hurt yourself. You need to learn how to keep your balance – focussing on the fall doesn’t teach anything. After hard work, you learn to keep your balance, and you now know how to ride a bicycle.

This is why Teshuva cannot mean wiping the slate clean – a fresh start necessarily means no history, and therefore nothing learned from mistakes made. This is also why Teshuva predates the creation of the universe; Hashem did not create a static world, He created a world that is meant to grow. Teshuva enables people to move on from their mistakes.

When a person does Teshuva, their sins and transgressions can be measured differently based on their motivation. If motivated by fear, they are downgraded to accidents and oversights; if motivated by love, they become merits. This should seem perplexing, but should now be perfectly logical – a person adapts their past mistakes and uses them to become a better person.

This explains why a year is called שנה – similar to the words שני and שנוי – “secondary” and “change” subjectively. These are not mutually exclusive terms. It is from the past, the foundations one lays, that anything later comes. A fresh start wouldn’t be secondary, and nor would a repetition. It only through change, growth, that one can move on. This is ראש השנה – and also why we temporarily act more stringently during the Aseres Yemei Teshuva. From reliable foundations comes a strong building.

Perhaps this is why we read about the Akeida on Rosh Hashana. Without any of this information, it is obviously a monumentally important story, a watershed moment in Jewish history. It cemented Avraham into Avraham Avinu. But perhaps there is something more.

The story is not one where he willingly goes along with Hashem’s instruction; he begrudgingly conceded to Hashem. His life was predicated in kindness and being good; this is why Hashem displayed an interest in him. Yet here he was was, being asked to commit the ultimate of selfishness and cruelty, stifling out someone else’s very existence. It simply made no sense, and he struggled to come to terms with what he was told to do.

The Nesivos Shalom points out that Torah subtly references the turmoil he faced. We are told that as Avraham approached the area, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham lifted his eyes, and saw הַמָּקוֹם from a distance. (22:4)

Classically, this means that he literally “saw the place”. But הַמָּקוֹם is also a name of Hashem – He is “The Place”, He is everywhere, the Omnipresent. As we say on Pesach; ברוך המקום ברוך הוא.

In this context, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק means that Avraham evaluated the situation, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem. It tore him apart – he’d spent his whole life fighting idol worship and sacrifice, and yet here he was, about to sacrifice his son, throwing away his entire future, and Hashem had not even demanded it. וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem.

When it comes to follow through, we are told how וַיִּשְׁלַח אַבְרָהָם אֶת-יָדוֹ, וַיִּקַּח אֶת-הַמַּאֲכֶלֶת – Avraham sent his hand, and picked up the knife.
The Torah disembodied the action from the actor – his hand was not doing what he wanted it to – he didn’t want to do it at all!

And in the end, he was vindicated. He was right the whole time! Every fibre of his being told him what he was doing was wrong, and he was proven right.

This is the comparison to Teshuva; the vindication of a struggle. It’s hard, and we don’t understand everything, but at the end of the tunnel, it all fits into place.

During the Aseres Yemei Teshuva, we insert the following plea into our prayers:

זכרינו לחיים, מלך חפץ בחיים, וכתבינו בספר החיים למענך אלוקים חיים – Remember us for life, our King who desires to grant life, and inscribe us in the book of life, for Your sake.

זכרינו לחיים

We grow up learning about the “Books” of Life and Death, which are essentially the books that categorise one as righteous or evil. So how can we implore Hashem that זכרינו לחיים – that He should give seemingly give a biased judgment? It would seem a fairly simple evaluation; are we or are we not worthy? The judgment should be impartial, so what are we asking for?

One doesn’t transform into a tzaddik because they pray or ask for something; and this isn’t a plea despite our sins. This is a prayer for us to be found righteous. How does it work, if we don’t deserve it?

Being a tzaddik is multi-faceted. Our sages teaches that one can be righteous in certain aspects of their lives.

Does a Paralympian athlete not deserve a gold medal if there is an Olympic athlete who can perform better? No – because the lines are drawn between able-bodied and disabled athletes.

We say זכרינו לחיים – see us as people worthy of life, so treat us individually, separately, in our own category. Let our accomplishments be foremost in our own unique category.

If a child does their best, but fails a test, will the parent get angry? They shouldn’t. Disappointment should only be manifest when the child is capable of more.

מלך חפץ ביים

It’s impossible to be perfect, and no one can stand comparison to objective perfection – the Gemara says that even Avraham would wither in the face of this comparison. But Hashem is kind, and does not expect this of us.

A tzaddik is someone who does their best, which is entirely subjective. What we’re good at can be evaluated externally, and crumble in the face of analysis, or can be evaluated on a personal level – מלך חפץ ביים – that Hashem wants to and can find a way to judge us as being good in our own way.

למענך אלוקים חיים

Why should Hashem give us things we don’t necessarily deserve?

If a person is looking for a house, and the real estate agent asks for a million dollars, is there a problem handing it over? The agent is acting for you; of course there’s no problem!

Hashem has no problem giving us things that help us serve Him better – למענך אלוקים חיים – they’re free! We can ask Hashem for things to help us serve Him better even when we don’t deserve it.

During the Selichos, Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur prayers, we regularly mention that Hashem is ותיק ועושה חסד – He is old, and kind.

We’re probably not paying enough attention when saying this, but this clearly sounds very odd. What is the intent of the prayer by labelling Hashem as “old”, and what effect does that on His kindness? My father explains with a parable.

If someone gets pulled over for speeding on a particular road, and the police officer is in a particularly good mood, perhaps a very good explanation about a family emergency or what have you, will get them off the hook.

But if the same person gets pulled over by the same cop the next day, will the same excuse work? Absolutely not.

Every year, we make the same promises, and make the same excuses. Hashem is ותיק, that same “old” judge as last time, and yet ועושה חסד – nonetheless, He will act kindly with us.

Moshe reiterates to the people the responsibility they took on when they agreed the covenant at Sinai:

הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה, ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ מְצַוְּךָ לַעֲשׂוֹת אֶת-הַחֻקִּים הָאֵלֶּה–וְאֶת-הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים; וְשָׁמַרְתָּ וְעָשִׂיתָ אוֹתָם, בְּכָל-לְבָבְךָ וּבְכָל-נַפְשֶׁךָ. אֶת-ה הֶאֱמַרְתָּ, הַיּוֹם: לִהְיוֹת לְךָ לֵאלֹהִים וְלָלֶכֶת בִּדְרָכָיו, וְלִשְׁמֹר חֻקָּיו וּמִצְו‍ֹתָיו וּמִשְׁפָּטָיו–וְלִשְׁמֹעַ בְּקֹלוֹ. וַה הֶאֱמִירְךָ הַיּוֹם, לִהְיוֹת לוֹ לְעַם סְגֻלָּה, כַּאֲשֶׁר, דִּבֶּר-לָךְ; וְלִשְׁמֹר, כָּל-מִצְו‍ֹתָיו. וּלְתִתְּךָ עֶלְיוֹן, עַל כָּל-הַגּוֹיִם אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה, לִתְהִלָּה, וּלְשֵׁם וּלְתִפְאָרֶת; וְלִהְיֹתְךָ עַם-קָדֹשׁ לה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, כַּאֲשֶׁר דִּבֵּר

Today, Hashem your God commands you to perform these laws and statutes; to guard and keep them – with all your heart and soul. Regarding Hashem you have said today, that He will be a god to you; that you will walk in his ways, to keep his laws and statutes; and listen to His voice.

Hashem has said of you this day, for you to be a Chosen People for Him, as He has said to you; and you will keep His mitzvos. And He will place you supreme, above all the nations He made; for praise, honour and glory, that you would be a holy nation dedicated to Him, as was said. (26:16-19)

The first part relates to our commitment to the relationship, and the end, Hashem’s commitment. The transition though, is quite difficult: וַה הֶאֱמִירְךָ הַיּוֹם, לִהְיוֹת לוֹ לְעַם סְגֻלָּה, כַּאֲשֶׁר, דִּבֶּר-לָךְ; וְלִשְׁמֹר, כָּל-מִצְו‍ֹתָיו – Hashem has said of you this day, for you to be a Chosen People for Him, as He has said to you; and you will keep His mitzvos.

The opening is clearly Hashem speaking of us, but the ending is clearly back to our commitment. How is adherence to Torah related to being called עַם סְגֻלָּה? Whose commitment is this about? And what is the supremacy granted as a result?

Rabbeinu Bachye teaches that being called עַם סְגֻלָּה – “chosen” – is not what it seems at face value. It is not a status we are born with; it is a title, an achievement, that we have to work towards.

In a similar vein, a man does not make the blessing שעשני איש the way a woman says שעשני כרצונו – because איש – to truly be a “man” – is what we spend our lives striving towards.

So too with circumcision, the first mitzva a newborn is party to, is a microcosm of the Jewish mission; perfecting what we have with what we are given, working towards the ultimate goal of perfection..

Rabbeinu Bachye says that the entire verse pertains to our commitment – לִהְיוֹת לוֹ לְעַם סְגֻלָּה, כַּאֲשֶׁר, דִּבֶּר-לָךְ; וְלִשְׁמֹר, כָּל-מִצְו‍ֹתָיו – we just have to earn it.

So being chosen is in fact a bestowing of responsibility, but is in turn rewarded with being עֶלְיוֹן, עַל כָּל-הַגּוֹיִם – supreme over the other nations. What does this mean?

R Shamshon Refael Hirsch writes how when the responsibilities are met, the world becomes a better place. The world is damaged, and being a better person repairs it.

Adam was commanded to “conquer” the world, when he was still all alone. His conquest was through listening to God; this is how all the animals knew to come to him to be named – they perceived godliness in him.

The same with Yakov – the Torah emphasises how he left Beersheba and went to Charan. The former seems redundant – it should only matter that he arrived somewhere- and the answer is that his departure does matter. When someone righteous leaves or goes somewhere, the environment and atmosphere of the place fundamentally change.

There is a story told of a young Chafetz Chaim, who saw the ills of the world, and decided to change the world. Seeing that the task was too monumentally large, he changed his mind, and set out to change his community. After seeing that that too was impossible, he downgraded his ambitions again, and decided that if he could not make them better, he’d at least himself.

And by making himself better, he really did change the world.

R Hirsch teaches that by being better people, the world becomes a better place. There is famine, war, child slavery and kidnapping in the world, and while people attempt to deal with the symptoms, it is ultimately futile if humans aren’t more humane.

This is also what we mean when we make brachos, when we say אשר קדשנו במצוותיו; and what we mean we say אתה בחרתנו on Yomim Tovim – וקדשתנו במצוותיך.

The Torah assures us that perfection of the world comes through perfection of self.

Before the first Shabbos, where Hashem stopped creating things, the concluding overview sums up how Hashem related to His handiwork, finally complete:

וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים אֶת-כָּל-אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה, וְהִנֵּה-טוֹב מְאֹד; וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם הַשִּׁשִּׁי – And God saw all that He had done, and it was very good. With an evening and a morning, the sixth day. (1:31)

The Ramban teaches that everything in the universe, כָּל-אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה including the less pleasant things in life, is brought together into what Hashem calls טוֹב מְאֹד – excellent. Ultimately – everything is for the best. With a greater perspective, everything turns out for the best.

The Netziv further adds that this was not just true of that moment – that unique point in existence where Hashem created things – from then on, all potential futures were dormant, awaiting their moment. Developing the Ramban’s concept, all latent potential is positive.

Rabeinu Bachye notes how at the conclusion of every other day, the Torah describes it as כי טוב – it was “good”. But on the final day, where all the different aspects of existence had been formed and came together, it became something else; טוֹב מְאֹד – “very” good. The creation itself was truly greater than sum of its parts; like a sophisticated machine, all the various levers, gears and cogs came together to become something utterly incredible.

The Kli Yakar points out the contrast between calling the first five days כי, and the conclusion of events is called וְהִנֵּה טוֹב מְאֹד. The Kli Yakar explains that כי is a term of clarification – that there is a deliberation weighing towards טוב with the other days. But when everything comes together, it is וְהִנֵּה טוֹב מְאֹד – it is clear and absolutely good.

The Sforno explains that the conclusion of creation achieved a balance, an equilibrium; existence was literally “at rest” – precisely the definition of Shabbos, which is itself the state of perfection. With the acceptance and absorption of the imperfections in the world, which the Torah calls טוֹב מְאֹד – then וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם הַשִּׁשִּׁי – the sixth day – with the definite article, begins. Existence becomes whole, complete, and it is truly Shabbos. On such a sixth day – הַשִּׁשִּׁי – “the” perfect sixth day, Shabbos commences.

Indeed, the Torah continues;

וַיְכֻלּוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם וְהָאָרֶץ, וְכָל-צְבָאָם – And the heavens and earth were completed…

The incorporation of the negative into the positive is truly the epitome of perfection.

The entire book of Devarim is one long event, Moshe’s farewell speech to the Jews. It begins with Moshe listing the locations they travelled through, which Rashi points out are thinly veiled hints to the sins and tragedies that took place at each of them.

But if Moshe’s goal was to rebuke, the way to that is to gently reference the event, and not the location – the locations played no role in what took place!

The way for a person to know they have done Teshuva – repented properly, as delineated by the Rambam, is that the same people, in the same situation, in the same place, do not make the same mistake. With the initial misaction/sin, something was damaged, and through repentance, it gets rectified.

Moshe referenced these locations because what occurred at each of them had altered the fabric of the environment, damaging it. They had made big mistakes and not rectified them.

They were on the cusp of entering Israel – he pleaded with them not to make the same mistakes that they had. He was telling them that the environment in Israel is sensitive to the actions of its residents – that they ought to be careful and not literally destroy the land as they had in the desert.

When Ahron was instructed to light the Menora, we find that the Torah emphasizes something seemingly out of place:

דַּבֵּר, אֶל-אַהֲרֹן, וְאָמַרְתָּ, אֵלָיו: בְּהַעֲלֹתְךָ, אֶת-הַנֵּרֹת, אֶל-מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָה, יָאִירוּ שִׁבְעַת הַנֵּרוֹת. וַיַּעַשׂ כֵּן, אַהֲרֹן–אֶל-מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָה, הֶעֱלָה נֵרֹתֶיהָ: כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוָּה יְהוָה, אֶת-מֹשֶׁה – Speak to Ahron, and say to him; “When you rise to kindle the lights on the Menora, light seven,”. And Ahron did so; he lit the candles on the Menora, just as Hashem had commanded Moshe. (8:2-3)

Rashi notes that וַיַּעַשׂ כֵּן – that the person commanded did as directed, is not regularly found in the Torah; it is assumed that when God speaks to you, you do as told.Rashi explains that it appears here to praise Ahron.

The Sfas Emes takes the praise to mean that Ahron was meticulous to light the Menora every day himself, when in fact, it could have been done by any member of his family. That is to say, he retained the initial enthusiasm for the job his entire life – וַיַּעַשׂ כֵּן as though that were the day he was instructed. Later, we find this lesson lost:

וַיִּסְעוּ מֵהַר ה’ דֶּרֶךְ שְׁלֹשֶׁת יָמִים – They travelled from the mountain of God a three-day journey. (10:33)

The Gemara in Shabbos teaches that this alludes to the Jews straying from their closeness to Hashem. They literally left where God was.

Rashi notes that it was their departure from Sinai that cultivated their craving for meat – the manna was not enough. The Ramban compares their attitude to leaving Sinai to a child running out of school. They left Sinai – the place where they were exposed to God and the Torah – in excitement that the “class” was over. The Chasam Sofer explains that had they not thrown off the yolk of Torah and fled like a child running from school, they never would have developed their infamous craving for meat.

The Mishna in Avos says: “Whoever throws off the yoke of Torah, they place the yoke of drech eretz upon him,”. There is a fixed amount of input that must be channeled one way or another. Derech eretz here refers to physical desires. This catalyzed an unfortunate chain of events. The Jews were supposed to go straight from receiving the Torah into Eretz Yisrael. Yet, because of the attitude with which they left Mount Sinai, they developed their craving for meat. Because of their craving for meat, they were delayed for 30 days while many were lost to plague. This delay allowed the opportunity for Miriam to slander Moshe, causing a further delay of seven days while waiting for her purification. The episode of the spies followed, deduced from the juxtaposition of the episodes of Miriam next to the episode of the spies; due to which the fate of that generation was sealed. They were to die out over the course of the next 40 years, never to reach Eretz Yisrael.

It was during that time that Moshe Rabbeinu himself was denied the opportunity to enter Eretz Yisrael because of the incident wherein he struck the rock. Had Moshe Rabbeinu entered Eretz Yisrael, there never would have been a destruction of the Holy Temple, and the ensuing exile. History would have been drastically different. What emerges is that Judaism is not exclusively about learning Torah and doing mitzvos, regardless of one’s intentions and attitude. Chovos halevavos, duties of the heart and spirit, are critical. It is because of poor attitude to how we relate to Torah and mitzvos that we find ourselves in galus to this day.

It is famously said that Yom Kippur, also known as Yom Kippurim, can be read Yom k’Purim – the day that is like Purim. In this vein, Yom Kippur is only a reflection of what Purim is. It would also be evident that if Yom Kippur is about atonement and teshuva, then Purim would be too, albeit in different manners on the respective days.

All year round, we are meant to give charity, but on Purim, there is a more particular emphasis than usual, so much so that the Rambam codifies it as כל הפושט ידו נותנים לו – whoever holds out his hand, give him.

There are people who say that Purim is therefore a highly auspicious time to pray, as if we reach out to Hashem – פושט ידו – then Hashem will be compelled to respond – נותנים לו.

R’ Yosef Kaplan explains this differently.

We say of Hashem that His יד is פושט to us – His hand is extended to welcome back people who do teshuva. The Halacha on Purim is כל הפושט ידו נותנים לו – if Hashem’s hand is out, how could we not give Him what He seeks, that we return to Him?

The first parsha after receiving the Torah addresses a Jew who steals, and is sold into temporary slavery. The Beis Halevi is bothered by this.

The Parsha opens with ואלה המשפטים – And these are the laws… Rashi points out how ו – “and” – is a point that continues something that came first, in this case that these laws are a continuation of the Torah just given at Sinai.

But why then, is this the very first instruction the Torah teaches us on becoming fully fledged Jews; why aren’t we first charged with being good, kind and responsible for society, such as the parsha after, which addresses distributing money to the poor?

The Beis Halevi explains that the Torah has a prerequisite for kindness and charity. The money has to be kosher. When people want to demonstrate their kindness, they have to ensure that the ingredients are properly sourced.

The Jew who steals becomes a slave. Although he must be treated exceptionally well, and is not the permanent property of his owner, he is not a fully fledged Jew. He is devoid of responsibility to Hashem, and is responsible to his master. He is allowed to marry a non-Jew in this state, and create a family of slaves for his master. This is what the Torah proscribes as the solution to theft. The Torah terms these things as less bad than one who steals.

The Torah impresses upon us the severity of theft, that it is a prerequisite to being capable of aiding society. The Torah demands high standards of people involved in society, as a prerequisite for all laws.

After the Jews left Egypt, and experienced the miracle of the Red Sea, we are told how people from all over heard about it, but particularly one man:

וַיִּשְׁמַע יִתְרוֹ כֹהֵן מִדְיָן, חֹתֵן מֹשֶׁה, אֵת כָּל-אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה אֱלֹהִים לְמֹשֶׁה, וּלְיִשְׂרָאֵל עַמּוֹ: כִּי-הוֹצִיא יְהוָה אֶת-יִשְׂרָאֵל, מִמִּצְרָיִם – Now Moshe’s father in law, Yisro, chief of Midyan, heard all that God had done for Moshe and for Yisrael, His people; that Hashem had taken Yisrael out of Egypt. (18:1)

This seems rather strange – the Torah tells us twice that Hashem did something to the Jews – first אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה אֱלֹהִים לְמֹשֶׁה, וּלְיִשְׂרָאֵל עַמּוֹ, and then immediately after כִּי-הוֹצִיא יְהוָה אֶת-יִשְׂרָאֵל, מִמִּצְרָיִם. How are we to understand the repetition?

On hearing wonders the Jews experienced, he sought out to their encampment, along with Moshe’s family, and Moshe came out to greet them. We then find that:

וַיְסַפֵּר מֹשֶׁה, לְחֹתְנוֹ, אֵת כָּל-אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה ה לְפַרְעֹה וּלְמִצְרַיִם, עַל אוֹדֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל – And Moshe told his father in law all that Hashem had done to Pharoh and to Egypt, on behalf of Yisrael. (18:8)

Immediately after Moshe tells Yisro what happened, Yisro praises Hashem; בָּרוּךְ ה, עַתָּה יָדַעְתִּי, כִּי-גָדוֹל ה מִכָּל-הָאֱלֹהִים. This ought to be perplexing – we were first told how וַיִּשְׁמַע יִתְרוֹ – Yisro heard what had happened, he knew; what was there for Moshe to tell, that caused Yisro to react so?

I want to suggest an explanation.

Yisro was a man who believed in the idea of a god; he was a priest himself. What he heard was that אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה אֱלֹהִים לְמֹשֶׁה, וּלְיִשְׂרָאֵל עַמּוֹ – there had been an act of אֱלֹהִים, an act of god, that happened to the Jews. He came to investigate.

What Moshe told him was that this wasn’t just an act of god, but rather it was עָשָׂה ה לְפַרְעֹה וּלְמִצְרַיִם – it wasn’t just אֱלֹהִים, but rather, Hashem (we do not say His name). Moshe identified that God was Hashem, whom we have a name for and whom we have a relationship with. On hearing this, Yisro reacted the way he did, by praising Hashem specifically, not just the idea of a god.

This explains our difficulty in the first pasuk. וַיִּשְׁמַע יִתְרוֹ כֹהֵן מִדְיָן, חֹתֵן מֹשֶׁה, אֵת כָּל-אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה

    אֱלֹהִים

לְמֹשֶׁה, וּלְיִשְׂרָאֵל עַמּוֹ – he heard what

    God

had done, but the remainder of the pasuk is not what he heard, but what actually happened -כִּי-הוֹצִיא ה אֶת-יִשְׂרָאֵל, מִמִּצְרָיִם. The second part is why he heard it, but not what he heard. He hadn’t heard of Hashem, only the general concept of god, and the pasuk tells us that he heard what god had done. Why did he hear it? כִּי-הוֹצִיא ה אֶת-יִשְׂרָאֵל, מִמִּצְרָיִם.

To illustrate: Steve was told to be somewhere. The reason, unknown to Steve, was that his friends had organised him a surprise party. But all Steve knew was to be somewhere. So we can say how Steve went somewhere, for his surprise party, but Steve only knows the first bit.

We find in Parshas Shemos a potentially surprising fact: not all the Jews were enslaved:

ויאמר אלהם מלך מצרים למה משה ואהרן תפריעו את העם ממעשיו לכו לסבלתיכם – The king of Egypt said to them, “Moshe and Aharon, why do you disturb the people from its work? Go to your own burdens”. (5:4)

Rashi quotes a Midrash that the tribe of Levi were not oppressed by the Egyptians, which was why Moshe and Aharon, who were from Levi, were freely able to go where they pleased. But why were they exempt?

Ramban explains how every nation had elders and wise men to teach the nation their respective laws. Pharaoh therefore left Levi alone in order to allow them their role. R’ Simcha Ziesel Broide notes that if a person like Pharaoh could understand and accept that every nation, and even it’s slaves, need spiritual guidance and role models, how much more so do we need to respect and cherish Torah scholars, and help establish Torah as much as we can.

Daas Zkeinim explains how the Egyptians slowly manipulated the Jews into working, rather than a sudden enslavement, which could provoke a revolution. The Jews who participated at first were then forced to continue against their will. Yet the people from Levi, knowing that they were destined to serve Hashem, refused to compromise and cooperate. They did not participate on the first day, and never became committed or obligated.

Maharal questions how, if Hashem told Avraham his descendants would be enslaved, (Bereishis 15:13-14.) how could Levi not be included in the slavery? Maharal answers, that truly Sheivet Levi was not included in this prophesy. Levi are the “portion of Hashem” set aside from the rest of the Jewish Nation, dedicated to His service. Rabbeinu Bachye goes so far as to say that Levi was the “tithe” of his brothers.

Pharaoh knew according to the prophesy, that the nation that enslaved Avraham’s offspring would be severely punished. He interpreted that if he did not enslave the entire Jewish nation, he would be free of the repercussions. He chose Levi specifically out of respect, for even Yaakov honored Levi by not allowing them to take part in his burial. His mistake was that Levi are not counted among the rest of the Jews in that prophesy for the above reason, meaning that he did in fact enslave all of Avraham’s offspring as related to the prophesy, and was therefore punished.

The Mishneh L’Melech proves that inheriting the Land of Israel was only possible through being enslaved in Egypt. Anyone who would eventually get a portion in the Land would have to endure slavery; those who were not going to get a portion need not be enslaved. Esav left Eretz Yisroel for this reason; he wanted nothing to do with enslavement. Levi too, who were not to receive a portion in the Land, did not have a reason to be enslaved.

Maharil Diskin shares a fascinating idea. The prophesy to Avraham was that the oppression would start when his offspring would be “strangers in a land not their own.” Since the land of Goshen in Egypt was originally given to Sarah as a gift by Pharaoh, there the Jewish nation could not be “aliens” in Goshen. As long as the Jews resided in Goshen, the terms of enslavement would not begin. The verse states, “The Children of Israel were fruitful, teemed, increased, and became strong – very very much so; and the land became filled with them” (Shemos 1:7). The Maharil Diskin explains that it is implied by the population increase that the land would become filled with them. Why state the obvious? Rather, the pasuk is teaching that they did not want to stay isolated in Goshen, and instead they branched out into the rest of Egypt and became involved in their society. In leaving Goshen, they allowed for their own enslavement. Levi, however, stayed and served Hashem in Goshen.

The Maharil Diskin is also explaines a Zohar (Beraishis 27a). The Zohar expounds on the passuk in Shemos 1:14, וימררו את חייהם בעבודה קשה בחומר ובלבנים כו’, and says, קשה – זו קושיא, בחומר – זו קל וחומר, ובלבנים – זו ליבון הלכה. The Maharil Diskin enlightens us by saying that the enslavement to Egypt occurred only to those not already “enslaved” to Torah. The Gemara (Sanhedrin 99b) says that every person was created to work. The Mishna (Avos 3:5) says, “Whoever accepts upon himself the yoke of Torah, the yoke of the government is removed from him.” We see that when we fulfill our necessity to work by toiling in learning Torah, it “exempts” us from the necessity of doing other, potentially more physical labor. The Jews in Egypt who did not carry out their requisite work by exerting themselves with Torah, needed to fulfill it with the physical enslavement to Egypt. I heard many times from my Rebbe and Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Daniel Lehrfield Shlit”a, that proof of this is that Sheivet Levi was not enslaved. Since they continued to learn Torah at the same strenuous and laborious level as the slave-work of the rest of Klall Yisroel, they fulfilled the decree of slavery prophesized to Avraham by learning, instead of manual labor.

In a similar vein, Panim Yafos says that Sheivet Levi learned Torah and kept the mitzvah of bris milah, whereas the rest of the Jewish nation did neither. Sheivet Levi’s merits protected them, unlike the rest.

Finally, the Maskil L’David interestingly learns that the people of Levi were not fully enslaved due to Pharaoh’s own daughter’s intervention. In raising Moshe as her own, Bisya had an affinity towards him and asked of her father to exclude Moshe’s tribe, Levi.

This explanation is particularly fascinating for it implies that up until Basya took the initiative, Sheivet Levi too was oppressed. The Maskil L’David explicitly writes that Sheivet Levi was subjugated even after Basya’s intervention, the only difference being the intensity of the work. While the rest of the Jews worked unimaginably hard, Sheivet Levi only had to perform regular labor.

This would explain a question that has bothered me for a while. If Levi were not oppressed whatsoever, on Pesach, why would Kohanim and Leviim sit and say, “Avadim hayiinu” – “We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt…”?

[The simple explanation that one could say according to the other opinions that Sheivet Levi was truly exempt from all labor, is that since most of the Jews went through what they did, therefore the Jews as a whole (including Levi) need to recognize and relive this on the Seder night. Another possibility is as the Chasam Sofer writes, there were two types of exiles happening in Egypt. One was physical, the other was spiritual; Bnei Yisrael had reached the 49th level of spiritual impurity due to their Egyptian surroundings and influences. If so, we can suggest that even if Levi was not enslaved physically, they certainly could have been affected and “enslaved” by Pharaoh in the spiritual sense. This would explain why Kohanim and Leviim say “Avadim hayiinu”; spiritual slaves.]

According to the Maskil L’David, however, new light is shed on the matter. Levi too were physically enslaved to Pharaoh.

Even according to the other opinions, that Levi were truly free from enslavement, this does not imply that living in Egypt was a walk in the park for them. Although they may not have been enslaved or worked helpless, their lives were still in danger. This is clear as we see that Moshe’s father, Amrom, went so far as to divorce his wife (Sota 12a). He did so because of the futility in childbirth due to the law that all male newborns be thrown into the Nile. Even after he was convinced by Miriam to take Yocheved back, by which they had their third child Moshe, there came a point when Yocheved could no longer hide Moshe. She was forced to place him in the little boat in the Nile. All this notwithstanding that their family was from Levi. Furthermore, the Meshech Chochma (4:20) writes that Moshe, concerned that the Jewish People would not believe his claims of imminent Heavenly redemption, decided to bring his wife and family to Egypt (a thing he would only do if he was certain that they would not be in danger) in order to heighten Klall Yisroels’ trust in Hashem. Now, if Sheivet Levi were completely above all cruel Egyptian devastation, what proof of Heavenly protection would it be for Moshe to bring his family there?

Furthermore, Yalkut Shimoni says that when Aharon met Moshe on the latter’s way down to Egypt, and saw him bringing his family, he said to him, “We are pained by [the distress of] those Jews already in Egypt, and you want to bring in more?!” Maharal points out that from this we see that clearly life was bitter for Sheivet Levi as well.

After writing all this, and after being bothered for a few years by the question of why Kohanim and Leviim say the Haggada, I was finally shown Simchas

 

Haregel, the Chida’s commentary to the Haggada. Commenting on the excerpt: “כל המרבה לספר ביציאת יצרים הרי זה משובך” – “All who speak plentifully of story of the exodus is praiseworthy,” the Chida writes that “כל” – “All” is meant to include even Kohanim and Leviim (כל – same initials as כהן לוי). Even they shall speak of the exodus, despite their not being oppressed. The Chida give two explanations for this.

Firstly, even though they were not oppressed, they were not able to leave Egypt of their own volition; so they too were freed by Hashem. Secondly, had the Jews stayed in Egypt but one more second than they did, they would have sunk to unimaginable lows and impurity which would have effected even Levi (similar to the Chasam Sofer quoted above). They too need to recognize and praise Hashem for His salvation. In fact, the Chida writes that he told this over to a Gadol, who replied that he too had thought of this interpretation, and added that converts too are included in “All.” It is for this reason that the next item in the Haggada is the story with R’ Eliezer, R’ Yehoshua, R’ Elazar Ben Azaria, R’ Akiva and R’ Tarfon who sat in Bnei Brak telling over the story of the exodus all night long. Rabi Yehoshua was a Levi, Rabi Elazar Ben Azaria and Rabi Tarfon were Kohanim, and Rabi Akiva came from converts.

From a somewhat historical standpoint, Rav Yaakov Kaminetzky explains at length all these goings-on regarding Levi. As a brief summary, it was all Yosef’s doing. Yosef had a particular wisdom – that of how to stay alive spiritually in a foreign environment. He learned this from Yaakov, who in turn learned it from Shem and Ever in order to survive living with Lavan. This wisdom enabled Yosef to recognize that to insure the spiritual (not to mention physical) survival of the Jewish People, he needed to take measures to isolate and protect Levi. This was in order that they in particular would continue to grow in Hashem’s service uninhibited by anything or anyone, to be a “light” and source of guidance to the rest of the nation. It was Yosef who established the law in Egypt that priests were to be excluded from taxes and other governmental rules and regulations. Due to Yosef’s foresight, Levi played the essential role in the Jewish People’s survival.

Incidentally, there is a fascinating Meshech Chochma in Parshas Vaeira (6:13). The passuk says, “וידבר ה’ אל משה ואל אהרן ויצום אל בני ישראל ואל פרעה מלך מצרים להוציא את בני ישראל מארץ מצרים” – “Hashem spoke to Moshe and Aharon and commanded them regarding the Children of Israel and regarding Pharaoh, king of Egypt, to take the Children of Israel out of the land of Egypt.” The commentaries offer various approaches to understand “ויצום אל בני ישראל” (literally: “to the Children of Israel”); we have translated according to Rashi’s logical interpretation (“regarding the Children of Israel”). The Meshech Chochma, however, learns the pasuk literally. Without quoting all of his proofs and extrapolations, simply put the Meshech Chochma learns that Sheivet Reuven, Shimon and Levi all held places of stature in Egypt. They were also slave-owners. Jewish slave-owners. That is why Hashem commanded Moshe and Aharon to not only tell Pharaoh to release the Jews from bondage, but even to command the Jewish slave-owners to do so as well. The Meshech Chochma writes further that the reason Hashem did not allow these three Shevatim to be enslaved was not because of a positive nature (i.e. some positive distinction that played a role in their protection); on the contrary, it was due to their spiritual weakness resulting from Yaakov Avinu’s strong final words to these particular Shevatim. Had they been enslaved, they would have been lost forever.

Upon meeting Pharoh for the first time, Yakov and Pharoh have this conversation:

וַיֹּאמֶר פַּרְעֹה, אֶל-יַעֲקֹב: כַּמָּה, יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיֶּיךָ. וַיֹּאמֶר יַעֲקֹב, אֶל-פַּרְעֹה, יְמֵי שְׁנֵי מְגוּרַי, שְׁלֹשִׁים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה: מְעַט וְרָעִים, הָיוּ יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיַּי, וְלֹא הִשִּׂיגוּ אֶת-יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיֵּי אֲבֹתַי, בִּימֵי מְגוּרֵיהֶם – And Pharaoh said to Yakov, “How many have been the days, the years of your life?” And Yakov said to Pharaoh, “The days of the years of my sojournings are one hundred thirty years. The days of the years of my life have been few and miserable, and they have not reached the days of the years of the lives of my forefathers, in the days of their journeys.” (47:8-9)

Yakov lived a tremendously difficult life. He had fled his family to live in hiding from his brother; been cheated and overworked by his father in law; been denied marriage to the love of his youth, been betrayed by his firstborn son; seen the rape of his daughter; seen his sons bickering result in Yosef’s disappearance and presumed death for 22 years; and seen Rachel die in childbirth. This was not the future he had sought to create for the Jewish people.

Mishlei 3:2 advises that תורתי אל תשכח….. כי אורך ימים ושנות חיים – my son, don’t forget the Torah… Because it lengthens days and years of life. Life is lived through peace, wholeness and Torah – pain and suffering are not true living. It therefore stands to reason that Yakov says מְעַט וְרָעִים, הָיוּ יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיַּי – “The days of the years of my life have been few and miserable,”.

However, the opening of Parshas Vayechi, which addresses the conclusion of Yakov’s life, states:

וַיְחִי יַעֲקֹב בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, שְׁבַע עֶשְׂרֵה שָׁנָה; וַיְהִי יְמֵי-יַעֲקֹב, שְׁנֵי חַיָּיו–שֶׁבַע שָׁנִים, וְאַרְבָּעִים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה – And Yakov lived in Egypt for seventeen years, and Yakov’s days; the years of his life; were a hundred and forty seven years. (47:28)

The Torah asserts that at this juncture, just 17 years after “few and miserable”, that וַיְחִי – Yakov truly lived, “living” being the thing he had lacked his whole life, what with all his suffering.

This marks a significant change. Before reuniting his family, he felt his life had been a failure. Now they were together, living in harmony, fulfilling Yakov’s ambitions for creating a nation, יְמֵי-יַעֲקֹב, שְׁנֵי חַיָּיו – Yakov’s days and years became years of life, to the extent that שֶׁבַע שָׁנִים, וְאַרְבָּעִים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה – he could look back, and his entire life had been worth it in the end, having achieved the harmony he sought his whole life.

The Midrash and Gemara in Shabbos say that a real exile begins in chains and handcuffs; Yakov was spared this in his exile because of his merits. The Nesivos Shalom explains how the brothers could attempt to murder Yosef and then sell him, whilst seeming incredibly evil, was actually their bodies expressing what Hashem wanted, that they eventually wind up in Egypt. The people Yosef was sold to we’re traditionally salesmen of foul scented products, but Yosef was “fortunate” that they were carrying sweet smelling spices on that day.

But it was not just “fortune”, and it was the same with Yakov

There had to be an exile to Egypt. Everything had been calculated precisely. Yakov recognised at the end of his life, that every event in his life had led him to where he was.

Having recognised that all his negative experiences brought him to where he was, he was finally content, satisfied and fulfilled.

We find that Yosef’s brothers harboured animosity to him almost from the beginning:

וַיָּבֵא יוֹסֵף אֶת דִּבָּתָם רָעָה אֶל אֲבִיהֶם – And Yosef brought evil tales to their father. (37:2)

Rashi explains he brought three issues he brought to his fathers attention. The first was that Leah’s sons allegedly mistreated Bilhah and Zilpah’s sons for being “slaves”, the second was that he suspected them of illicit, adulterous relationships, and the third was that they ate limbs of live animals.

Rashi notes how Yosef suffered in each of these three areas later on in his life. Having accused his brothers of taunting and mistreating “slaves”, he was sold into slavery himself. Having accused his brothers of forbidden relationships, he was challenged by Potiphar’s wife in this area. For accusing them of eating live animals; when he was sold, they slaughtered a goat and dipped his coat into it, which they then presented to their father, implying his death. They then ate it.

R Ezra Hartman points out an issue with this. Regarding the adultery and slavery, Yosef was the subject of the challenges – they happened to him, presumably to learn that he was wrong in these areas. However, the blood his coat was dipped in did not directly involve Yosef at all. Given that these occurrences appear to be lessons, what was Yosef supposed to learn from it if it didn’t happen to him?

R Chaim Shmulevitz explains that sometimes, people cannot concede that they were wrong. It hurts too much to admit to someone else they were right all along. Yosef saw how he was wrong, and was forced to accept that what he had reported to his father was not true, and had to suffer in silence and indignity. His humiliation at seeing he was wrong was the lesson to be learnt.

We find that Yosef has two vivid dreams, that had trappings of prophecy:

וַיַּחֲלֹם יוֹסֵף חֲלוֹם, וַיַּגֵּד לְאֶחָיו; וַיּוֹסִפוּ עוֹד, שְׂנֹא אֹתוֹ. וַיֹּאמֶר, אֲלֵיהֶם: שִׁמְעוּ-נָא, הַחֲלוֹם הַזֶּה אֲשֶׁר חָלָמְתִּי. וְהִנֵּה אֲנַחְנוּ מְאַלְּמִים אֲלֻמִּים, בְּתוֹךְ הַשָּׂדֶה, וְהִנֵּה קָמָה אֲלֻמָּתִי, וְגַם-נִצָּבָה; וְהִנֵּה תְסֻבֶּינָה אֲלֻמֹּתֵיכֶם, וַתִּשְׁתַּחֲוֶיןָ לַאֲלֻמָּתִי. וַיֹּאמְרוּ לוֹ, אֶחָיו, הֲמָלֹךְ תִּמְלֹךְ עָלֵינוּ, אִם-מָשׁוֹל תִּמְשֹׁל בָּנוּ; וַיּוֹסִפוּ עוֹד שְׂנֹא אֹתוֹ, עַל-חֲלֹמֹתָיו וְעַל-דְּבָרָיו. וַיַּחֲלֹם עוֹד חֲלוֹם אַחֵר, וַיְסַפֵּר אֹתוֹ לְאֶחָיו; וַיֹּאמֶר, הִנֵּה חָלַמְתִּי חֲלוֹם עוֹד, וְהִנֵּה הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ וְהַיָּרֵחַ וְאַחַד עָשָׂר כּוֹכָבִים, מִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לִי. וַיְסַפֵּר אֶל-אָבִיו, וְאֶל-אֶחָיו, וַיִּגְעַר-בּוֹ אָבִיו, וַיֹּאמֶר לוֹ מָה הַחֲלוֹם הַזֶּה אֲשֶׁר חָלָמְתָּ: הֲבוֹא נָבוֹא, אֲנִי וְאִמְּךָ וְאַחֶיךָ, לְהִשְׁתַּחֲו‍ֹת לְךָ, אָרְצָה. וַיְקַנְאוּ-בוֹ, אֶחָיו …

And Yosef dreamt a dream, and told it to his brothers, and they continued to hate him. And he said to them, “Listen to this dream I dreamt! We were binding bundles in the field, and my bundle arose, and also stood upright, and then your bundles encircled and prostrated themselves to my bundle.” So his brothers said to him, “Will you reign over us, or will you govern us!?” And they continued to hate him for his dreams and for his words.

And he dreamed another dream, and he related it to his brothers, and he said, “I have dreamed another dream; the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were prostrating themselves to me.” And he told [it] to his father and to his brothers; and his father told him off and said to him, “What is this dream that you have dreamed? Will we come; I, your mother, and your brothers, to prostrate ourselves to you to the ground?” And his brothers envied him… (37:5-11)

The dreams were not empty visions – they were prophecies.

The Beis Halevi explains how the bundled grain dream related to the physical; Yosef’s incredible future rise to governor of Egypt, future owner of all the grain stores in the empire, and subsequently, his vast amounts of wealth. The dream about the stars and heavenly bodies correlated to spirituality – Yosef is called Yosef HaTzaddik, the righteous, the foundation of the universe.

R Ezra Hartman explains how this differentiated his brothers reactions to each dream. Wealth is external to a person; it does not define him, is not a part of him. This is related very subtly, where they did not bow to him, but to his bundle – אֲלֻמֹּתֵיכֶם, וַתִּשְׁתַּחֲוֶיןָ לַאֲלֻמָּתִי. Perhaps this is why they hated him, that they misunderstood him and though that somehow great wealth would mean he ought to rule them – אִם-מָשׁוֹל תִּמְשֹׁל בָּנוּ. The dream about the bundles engendered hatred – וַיּוֹסִפוּ עוֹד שְׂנֹא אֹתוֹ.

But with the stars, they did not bow to a representation of Yosef, but rather, כּוֹכָבִים, מִשְׁתַּחֲוִים לִי – they bowed to him, himself. This dream about the stars, hinting to his holiness and the spiritual attainments he would achieve, engendered jealousy – וַיְקַנְאוּ-בוֹ, אֶחָיו.

It seems that the dream about wealth did not engender jealousy, only hatred, perhaps as described above. The dreams about spirituality were not something to hate him for – they could use their jealousy as a motivational tool. But regarding his immense wealth, there was nothing to be jealous of – wealth doesn’t make someone better, hence their retort.

There was no such retort to the dream about spirituality. Bettering oneself is the only currency that counts, and they knew it.

We find that Yakov while crossing a river at night, Yakov remains behind the rest of his family, and is accosted by Eisav’s guardian angel, which has many forms – Satan, the angel of death, the evil inclination etc:

וַיִּוָּתֵר יַעֲקֹב, לְבַדּוֹ; וַיֵּאָבֵק אִישׁ עִמּוֹ, עַד עֲלוֹת הַשָּׁחַר. וַיַּרְא, כִּי לֹא יָכֹל לוֹ, וַיִּגַּע, בְּכַף-יְרֵכוֹ; וַתֵּקַע כַּף-יֶרֶךְ יַעֲקֹב, בְּהֵאָבְקוֹ עִמּוֹ. וַיֹּאמֶר שַׁלְּחֵנִי, כִּי עָלָה הַשָּׁחַר; וַיֹּאמֶר לֹא אֲשַׁלֵּחֲךָ, כִּי אִם-בֵּרַכְתָּנִי. וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו, מַה-שְּׁמֶךָ; וַיֹּאמֶר, יַעֲקֹב. וַיֹּאמֶר, יַעֲקֹב לא יֵאָמֵר עוֹד שִׁמְךָ–כִּי, אִם-יִשְׂרָאֵל: כִּי-שָׂרִיתָ עִם-אֱלֹהִים וְעִם-אֲנָשִׁים, וַתּוּכָל. וַיִּשְׁאַל יַעֲקֹב, וַיֹּאמֶר הַגִּידָה-נָּא שְׁמֶךָ, וַיֹּאמֶר, לָמָּה זֶּה תִּשְׁאַל לִשְׁמִי; וַיְבָרֶךְ אֹתוֹ, שָׁם. – And Yakov was left alone, and a man grappled with him until daybreak. And when he saw that he could not overcome him, he struck his hip, and dislocated his hip, as he grappled with him. And he said, “Let me go, because dawn is breaking!” – but Yakov said “I will not let you go, until you bless me”. So he said to him, “What is your name?”, and he replied, “Yakov”. And he said, “No longer shall your name be Yakov, for your name is Yisrael, because you have mastery with God and men, and you have prevailed”. And Yakov asked, and said, “Now tell me your name?”‘ and he replied, “Why is it you ask for my name?”‘ and he blessed him there. (32:25-30)

Rashi explains how the word וַיֵּאָבֵק – to wrestle/grapple, comes from the word אבק, dust, called so for the dust that is kicked up when moving and grappling for leverage. There is a Midrash that the dust kicked up from this epic struggle, reached all the way to Hashem’s throne.

R Tzvi Meir Silberberg explains how this relates to all of our struggles. People think that Judaism is about results, an end product. Not so. It was the not the victory that went up to Heaven; that remained with Yakov. But the struggle, the dust kicked up, went straight up to Hashem.

No one is born perfect. We are human, and we struggle. It is the human condition, and it’s what we are here for.

It is apt that this struggle occurs at night, which is darkness, the uncertain, the unknown. When confronted with light, which is truth and reality, the night is dispelled. This angel has to leave at sunrise, to sing in front of Hashem.

The Gemara in Suka teaches how at the end of days, Hashem will slaughter the Satan, and the righteous will cry because they will see it as a mountain, and they don’t understand how they overcame it, but the evil will cry because it will be as if it were a hair, and lament their lack of control and discipline to resist it. The Yetzer Hara is subjective.

The Steipler compares this to someone who hasn’t seen their family in a long time, and is certain that when they meet, they will all be happy, and never argue or fight again. It will never last. The imagination stage is always better that the reality, because when reality hits, the illusions disappear.

The angel had to leave when confronted with reality, and Yakov asks for his name. He asks for his name. The angel seems to refuse a real answer, “Why is it you ask for my name?”.
R’ Leib Chasman explains that this is the essence of what it is – nothing. It cannot be defined, because it’s almost a reflection of ourselves. There is no answer to what is, just what we make it into.

We find an argument takes place between Rachel and Leah, apparently over whose tent Yakov is to sleep in.

וַיֵּלֶךְ רְאוּבֵן בִּימֵי קְצִיר-חִטִּים, וַיִּמְצָא דוּדָאִים בַּשָּׂדֶה, וַיָּבֵא אֹתָם, אֶל-לֵאָה אִמּוֹ; וַתֹּאמֶר רָחֵל, אֶל-לֵאָה, תְּנִי-נָא לִי, מִדּוּדָאֵי בְּנֵךְ. וַתֹּאמֶר לָהּ, הַמְעַט קַחְתֵּךְ אֶת-אִישִׁי, וְלָקַחַת, גַּם אֶת-דּוּדָאֵי בְּנִי; וַתֹּאמֶר רָחֵל, לָכֵן יִשְׁכַּב עִמָּךְ הַלַּיְלָה, תַּחַת, דּוּדָאֵי בְנֵךְ. וַיָּבֹא יַעֲקֹב מִן-הַשָּׂדֶה, בָּעֶרֶב, וַתֵּצֵא לֵאָה לִקְרָאתוֹ וַתֹּאמֶר אֵלַי תָּבוֹא, כִּי שָׂכֹר שְׂכַרְתִּיךָ בְּדוּדָאֵי בְּנִי; וַיִּשְׁכַּב עִמָּהּ, בַּלַּיְלָה הוּא – Reuven went in the days of the wheat harvest, and he found flowers in the field and brought them to Leah, his mother, and Rachel said to Leah, “Please give me some of your son’s flowers.” And she said to her, “Is it not enough that you have taken my husband, that [you wish] to take my son’s flowers too?” So Rachel said, “Fine, he shall sleep with you tonight in return for your son’s flowers.” Yakov came from the field in the evening, and Leah came to meet him, and she said, “You shall come to me, because I have hired you with my son’s flowers,” and he slept with her on that night. (30:14-16)

The pasuk then discusses Leah’s children’s births, after which:

וַיִּזְכֹּר אֱלֹהִים, אֶת-רָחֵל; וַיִּשְׁמַע אֵלֶיהָ אֱלֹהִים, וַיִּפְתַּח אֶת-רַחְמָהּ – And Hashem remembered Rachel, and Hashem listened to her,and opened her womb. (30:22)

Rashi explains that what Hashem remembered was Rachel’s kindness to Leah, where the night Rachel was to be married, Yakov provided codes to know he had not been tricked, and Leah would it have know them, and would otherwise have been found out. Rachel passed on the codes, and Leah was not discovered until the next day.

But years had since passed – why does Hashem remember and repay Rachel’s kindness here?

R’ Ezra Hartman explains that in this episode, the Torah teaches us how to treat our fellow man. What was Leah thinking when she accused Rachel of taking her husband? Rachel was the sole facilitator that enabled Leah to have been a member of Yakov’s family – without the codes, Leah would have been left in the cold.

But Rachel does not say this.

R’ Ezra Hartman explains that sometimes, people like to rub in the fact that they’ve done someone a favour, that the other person owes them something. With a real favour, true kindness, the recipient is not aware that they are being done a favour. Rachel mentioned the codes in passing, for example, “Yakov likes to be told X and Y”. Leah was unaware of what Rachel had done for her, hence her question. She actually had no idea.

Rachel did not say a word about what had happened years earlier, and just talked about the flowers. It is very appropriate therefore, that at the perfect moment to silence Leah, her silence was rewarded, וַיִּזְכֹּר אֱלֹהִים, אֶת-רָחֵל – And Hashem remembered Rachel – specifically here, as the Seforno says, Hashem remembered her through the flowers.

Hashem repaid her her incredible kindness at the moment she showed she still stood by it.

A fair portion of Parshas Toldos deals with Yitzchaks growth into an influential businessman, and some of the dealings he had. He becomes so wealthy, the locals ask him to leave, as they feel his assets would pose a strategic threat were they to be attacked. The Torah details how he owned his fathers wells, which the locals had filled up, and how he had them redug, and then excavated new ones, called Eisek, Sitna and Rechovos. It is not so apparent what function this portion serves.

וַיִּגְדַּל, הָאִישׁ; וַיֵּלֶךְ הָלוֹךְ וְגָדֵל, עַד כִּי-גָדַל מְאֹד. וַיְהִי-לוֹ מִקְנֵה-צֹאן וּמִקְנֵה בָקָר, וַעֲבֻדָּה רַבָּה; וַיְקַנְאוּ אֹתוֹ, פְּלִשְׁתִּים. וְכָל-הַבְּאֵרֹת, אֲשֶׁר חָפְרוּ עַבְדֵי אָבִיו, בִּימֵי, אַבְרָהָם אָבִיו–סִתְּמוּם פְּלִשְׁתִּים, וַיְמַלְאוּם עָפָר. וַיֹּאמֶר אֲבִימֶלֶךְ, אֶל-יִצְחָק: לֵךְ, מֵעִמָּנוּ, כִּי-עָצַמְתָּ מִמֶּנּוּ, מְאֹד. וַיֵּלֶךְ מִשָּׁם, יִצְחָק; וַיִּחַן בְּנַחַל-גְּרָר, וַיֵּשֶׁב שָׁם. וַיָּשָׁב יִצְחָק וַיַּחְפֹּר אֶת-בְּאֵרֹת הַמַּיִם, אֲשֶׁר חָפְרוּ בִּימֵי אַבְרָהָם אָבִיו, וַיְסַתְּמוּם פְּלִשְׁתִּים, אַחֲרֵי מוֹת אַבְרָהָם; וַיִּקְרָא לָהֶן, שֵׁמוֹת, כַּשֵּׁמֹת, אֲשֶׁר-קָרָא לָהֶן אָבִיו. וַיַּחְפְּרוּ עַבְדֵי-יִצְחָק, בַּנָּחַל; וַיִּמְצְאוּ-שָׁם–בְּאֵר, מַיִם חַיִּים. וַיָּרִיבוּ רֹעֵי גְרָר, עִם-רֹעֵי יִצְחָק לֵאמֹר–לָנוּ הַמָּיִם; וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם-הַבְּאֵר עֵשֶׂק, כִּי הִתְעַשְּׂקוּ עִמּוֹ. וַיַּחְפְּרוּ בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת, וַיָּרִיבוּ גַּם-עָלֶיהָ; וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ, שִׂטְנָה. וַיַּעְתֵּק מִשָּׁם, וַיַּחְפֹּר בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת, וְלֹא רָבוּ, עָלֶיהָ; וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ, רְחֹבוֹת, וַיֹּאמֶר כִּי-עַתָּה הִרְחִיב יְהוָה לָנוּ, וּפָרִינוּ בָאָרֶץ. – (26:13-22)

It is curious how the Torah discusses this at length, without it being clear at all what it is we are meant to learn from here, or what significance these events bore.

R’ Ezra Hartman explains that this portion of the Torah tells us what our aspirations should be.

וַיָּשָׁב יִצְחָק וַיַּחְפֹּר אֶת-בְּאֵרֹת הַמַּיִם, אֲשֶׁר חָפְרוּ בִּימֵי אַבְרָהָם אָבִיו, וַיְסַתְּמוּם פְּלִשְׁתִּים, אַחֲרֵי מוֹת אַבְרָהָם; וַיִּקְרָא לָהֶן, שֵׁמוֹת, כַּשֵּׁמֹת, אֲשֶׁר-קָרָא לָהֶן אָבִיו – and Yitzchak returned, and dug the wells that had been dug in the days of his father Avraham, that the Phillistines had filled, after his father Avraham’s death. He called them the names his father had called them.

The Torah tells us that if our fathers are worth emulating, we absolutely should. We should have an eye on family heritage and tradition – Yitzchak pursued and reclaimed his fathers assets, and called them the name his father did. But we should not aspire to be someone else – we should aim higher, to exceed where our ancestors reached.

The Ramban and Kli Yakar discuss the details of the three wells that Yitzchak had excavated. The Ramban discusses how the three wells are veiled references to the three Temples, the Batei Mikdash.

וַיָּרִיבוּ רֹעֵי גְרָר, עִם-רֹעֵי יִצְחָק לֵאמֹר–לָנוּ הַמָּיִם; וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם-הַבְּאֵר עֵשֶׂק, כִּי הִתְעַשְּׂקוּ עִמּוֹ – And the shepherds of Gerar quarreled with Yitzchak’s shepherds, saying, “The water is ours”; so he named the well Esek, because they had contended with him.

This is the first Beis HaMikdash. There is a strong parallel, in that the Torah emphasises two factions, that argued. The era of the first Beis HaMikdash was defined by two factions, the Malchei Yisrael against the Malchei Yehuda – the kingdom of Israel against Judea, arguing over who deserved to be king.

וַיַּחְפְּרוּ בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת, וַיָּרִיבוּ גַּם-עָלֶיהָ; וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ, שִׂטְנָה – And they dug another well, and they fought about it too; so he named it Sitnah.

This is the second, which was defined by hatred between everyone. This is worse than the first. The Torah emphasises how the first was fought by the shepherds, which is a metaphor for the leaders, which is who fought for the first Temple. This time around, “they” just fought. No one in particular, a heavy hint to baseless hatred. Further, they failed to listen to the lesson of the first – וַיָּרִיבוּ גַּם-עָלֶיהָ – they fought about this one too.

The third however had no such strife – וַיַּעְתֵּק מִשָּׁם, וַיַּחְפֹּר בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת, וְלֹא רָבוּ, עָלֶיהָ; וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ, רְחֹבוֹת, וַיֹּאמֶר כִּי-עַתָּה הִרְחִיב יְהוָה לָנוּ, וּפָרִינוּ בָאָרֶץ – And he moved away from there, and he dug another well, and they did not quarrel over it; so he named it Rechovos, and he said, “For now the Lord has made room for us, and we will be fruitful in the land.”

The third is defined by peace. The word for peace is שלום, from the root שלם, whole. With peace, there is wholeness, harmony and space, and there is expansion.

Avraham’s ultimate test was Akeidas Yitzchak, but the test runs much deeper than it appears at face value. It seems the basic difficulty was that he had to sacrifice his son, although Hashem had said that this very same son would be his heir, and the future of Avraham’s covenant.

The Ran explains that there is much more to it, and points out a major subtlety, that adds a whole new dimension into what was required of Avraham. Hashem says: קַח-נָא אֶת-בִּנְךָ אֶת-יְחִידְךָ אֲשֶׁר-אָהַבְתָּ, אֶת-יִצְחָק, וְלֶךְ-לְךָ, אֶל-אֶרֶץ הַמֹּרִיָּה; וְהַעֲלֵהוּ שָׁם, לְעֹלָה – Please take your son, your only son, whom you love, Yitzchak, and go, for yourself, to the land of Moriah, and sacrifice him,max a burnt offering. (22:2).

The Ran point out that Hashem said קַח-נָא – “please take”. This was a request. It was not a command, it was not an instruction; sacrificing his son was something Hashem desired, but did not demand. It is quite possible that if Avraham had refused, he would not have violated Hashem word, as Hashem had not issued an instruction.

This enhances our view of the difficulty this task posed. Hashem did not require it, and Avraham did not “need” to go through with it. It would just please Hashem were he to go through with it, it ideas his choice. He was not compelled to do it at all.

The Slonimer Rebbe adds a further subtle reference to the turmoil he faced. The pasuk says
that as Avraham approached the place, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham lifted his eyes, and saw הַמָּקוֹם from a distance. (22:4)

Classically, this means that he literally “saw the place”. But הַמָּקוֹם is also a name of Hashem – He is “The Place”, He is everywhere, the Omnipresent.

In this context, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק means that Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem. Avraham was doing what he felt he ought to do, when he knew that what he was doing did not feel right. It tore him apart – he’d spent his whole life fighting idol worship and sacrifice, and yet here he was, about to sacrifice his son, throwing away his entire future, and Hashem had not even demanded it. וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem.

We read this on Rosh Hashana, and perhaps, apart from the obvious merit this story brings, perhaps we can also relate to this on a personal level. Things aren’t always clear cut what we have to do, what’s right. We don’t always “feel it”, but sometimes, we have to persevere with what we have to do, and we will come out better for having done so.

The parsha opens with:

ויאמר ד׳ אל אברם לך לך מארצך וממולדתך ומבית אביך אל הארץ אשר אראך – And Hashem said to Avraham, “Go for yourself, from your land, your homeland, and the house of your father, to the land which I will show you”.

This pasuk is loaded with inferences. Rashi points out that Hashem was telling Avraham that this journey would be לך – for his own benefit and growth, which seems difficult to understand. Did Avraham need a personal gain to do what Hashem had instructed?

Further, the pasuk uses an expression of leaving from, rather than exiting to, which seems odd, if the actual goal was to arrive at the land Hashem would show him.

Lastly, the requirement to go “from your land, your birthplace, and the house of your father, to the land which I will show you”, seems redundant – the goal is אל הארץ אשר אראך, the land he would be shown. Why include where he was leaving from at all?

Avraham is commanded to go first from his country, then his homeland, and lastly, his father’s house. Shouldn’t the sequence be reversed? When travelling internationally, you leave the house first, then the area and then the country. So why is the command in this order?

The Nesivos Shalom explains that Hashem was telling Avraham to leave his negative traits which he acquired in these locations. Our environment is instrumental to developing who we are as people. The more localised the environment, the greater the affect it can have.

As such, a home environment is more persuasive than a homeland, which in turn is more influential than a country. The command is brought to greater light; Hashem was telling Avraham to leave, abandon even, the negative influence he picked up from his country, homeland and father’s house. The order is listing in ascending difficulty.

This further bring to light that לך לך means “Go fro yourself”. Avaham understood that ultimate happiness is becoming close to Hashem, echoing the Mesilas Yesharim, that the supreme joy in this world is the joy of serving Hashem; acknowledging one’s purpose in life and fulfilling it. Hashem told him that in order to grow further, he needed to totally separate himself from the negative culture he’d lived his whole life in – מארצך וממולדתך ומבית אביך.

It’s not enough for a person to try to be the best they can be, where they are. To reach full potential, he also has to remove himself from the bad midos of his environment because they still have an affect on him.

Once Avraham abandoned his past, he could achieve אל הארץ אשר אראך.

This further answers why the command was to “go” from somewhere, not just to somewhere. He had to leave where he was to get where he was going.

Avraham enters into a covenant with Hashem, that his descendants will be many, they will be great, and they will inherit the land. The sign of the covenant, is circumcision, the bris milah.

At the beginning of the parsha of milah, the pasuk says:

וַיֵּרָא יְהוָה אֶל-אַבְרָם, וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו אֲנִי-אֵל שַׁדַּי–הִתְהַלֵּךְ לְפָנַי, וֶהְיֵה תָמִים – And Hashem appeared to Avraham, and said to him; “I am The Omnipotent, be before me, and be perfect”. (17:1)

The Beis HaLevi explains that people who deny fundamental precepts of Judaism, or even Hashem, can sarcastically ask that “if God can do everything, why do we have to do anything? Let Him have made the world perfect!”. They feel that the existence of imperfection disproves God. In the context of milah, the question is the same, that “if God wanted you circumcised, why didn’t He make you that way?”.

The Beis HaLevi points out that the name Hashem appears to Avraham with is אֵל שַׁדַּי. Chazal teach that this means the Omnipotent, that Hashem could have kept creating and building from Creation, but said דַּי – “enough”. Had Hashem not chosen to stop, creation would manifest itself perfectly, where all living things would give birth to adult offspring, food would not need processing or cooking, etc.

But Hashem said “enough”. Creation is not meant for us to enjoy in perfection, as the Torah tells us at the onset of Shabbos, the transition from Creation to existence, כִּי בוֹ שָׁבַת מִכָּל-מְלַאכְתּוֹ, אֲשֶׁר-בָּרָא אֱלֹהִים לַעֲשׂוֹת – for on that day did Hashem refrain from all His work, which He made to be done. (2:3). The point of existence is לַעֲשׂוֹת – to be done by man. Our instruction of וֶהְיֵה תָמִים, to be perfect, is our own responsibility.

Circumcision, and everything else in life, do not come naturally. They require input of effort and hard work, but it is the end goal of being here – to be perfect.

The entire incident of the Flood seems perplexing. Humanity had started populating the world, and initially fulfilled Gods mission, until suddenly, things came to a bottleneck, and society degenerated to a point where God decided to “start over” from Noach. But why?

The Malbim observes that the Torah writes:

צֵא, מִן-הַתֵּבָה–אַתָּה… כָּל-הַחַיָּה אֲשֶׁר-אִתְּךָ מִכָּל-בָּשָׂר, בָּעוֹף וּבַבְּהֵמָה וּבְכָל-הָרֶמֶשׂ הָרֹמֵשׂ עַל-הָאָרֶץ–הוצא (הַיְצֵא) אִתָּךְ; וְשָׁרְצוּ בָאָרֶץ, וּפָרוּ וְרָבוּ עַל-הָאָרֶץ – Leave the Ark – you… Every living creature with you. Every creature, bird, animal and insect that creeps on the earth, should leave with you, and they will multiply and infest the earth. (8:16-17)

Malbim explains that the salvation of life on earth was through Noach, and the psukim say as much, by emphasising כָּל-הַחַיָּה אֲשֶׁר-אִתְּךָ – he was the instrument through which they were saved, because they were “with him”.

The Malbim explains the undercurrent in the sequence of events that led to the Flood, and what it repaired. When Adam was created, he had the potential of all Creation within him. Every possible characteristic and outcome was seeded within him, including those of animals. The way he behaved; nature reacted. We see this somewhat today, to a small degree, in how pets reflect characteristics of their owners.

The generation of the Flood squandered and destroyed their potential to be good, and had no positive characteristics. Nature reacted accordingly, and animals became evil too, with all species mingling with others, to a point where the Torah (6:12) writes כִּי-הִשְׁחִית כָּל-בָּשָׂר אֶת-דַּרְכּוֹ, עַל-הָאָרֶץ – that every living creature had lost its way.

Noach reclaimed decency, and “humanity” – in the true sense of the word, by being honest and good. He reclaimed the potential to be good. He was the sole being that had not corrupted itself, and as such existence was perpetuated solely for his sake. This is why he was chosen of all men – existence owed itself to him.

צֵא, מִן-הַתֵּבָה–אַתָּה… כָּל-הַחַיָּה אֲשֶׁר-אִתְּךָ מִכָּל-בָּשָׂר, בָּעוֹף וּבַבְּהֵמָה וּבְכָל-הָרֶמֶשׂ הָרֹמֵשׂ עַל-הָאָרֶץ–הוצא (הַיְצֵא) אִתָּךְ; וְשָׁרְצוּ בָאָרֶץ, וּפָרוּ וְרָבוּ עַל-הָאָרֶץ – Leave the Ark – you… Every living creature with you. Every creature, bird, animal and insect that creeps on the earth, should leave with you, and they will multiply and infest the earth. (8:16-17)

Nature owed Noach a debt – it was preserved through him. In the beginning of the very next chapter, God permits man to eat meat for the very first time – as a direct result of this.

In Moshe’s final speech to the nation, having fulfilled his duties, he informs them of what will be later. He says:

ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ הוּא עֹבֵר לְפָנֶיךָ, הוּא-יַשְׁמִיד אֶת-הַגּוֹיִם הָאֵלֶּה – Hashem, your G-d; He will cross you over, He will destroy the nations before you. (31:3)

The emphasis on הוּא, that “He” will do it, seems strange, and the fact it is said twice is even stranger.

The Ohr HaChaim explains that the Jews were worried that on losing Moshe, they would further lose two abilities he had; first, that he could and would intercede on their behalf, such as with the Golden Calf, where his intercession ended the plague and prevented their destruction; and second, that he would not be leading them in the wars they would inevitably fight on entry into the Land of Israel.

Moshe addressed the first concern by telling them that הוּא עֹבֵר לְפָנֶיךָ – the same word is used to describe Hashem’s capacity to forgive – עובר על פשע. Moshe explained that in reality, it had been Hashem all along, that He had aroused the idea of praying for the Jews in Moshe, and that capacity to be forgiven would remain, since Moshe had been an instrument for Hashem’s forgiveness, and not the cause.

Regarding the second, Moshe expressed the same idea – it had never been him – הוּא-יַשְׁמִיד אֶת-הַגּוֹיִם הָאֵלֶּה – Hashem had been with them all the time, and would remain so.

The Seforno explains the whole speech as conveying this message – that they had Hashem watching over them, and it would be better for them to experience Hashem directly than via himself as a conduit.

Sometimes people are averse to recognising their own abilities, and they don’t feel capable of rising to a challenge without their teachers. Moshe was telling the Jews that after 40 years of preparing, they were finally ready to become what they left Egypt to be. We too need to recognise that eventually, the training wheels have to come off.

In the beginning of Devarim 29, Moshe does a wrap up of what the Jews went through on their journey through the desert:

וַיִּקְרָא מֹשֶׁה אֶל-כָּל-יִשְׂרָאֵל, וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם: אַתֶּם רְאִיתֶם, אֵת כָּל-אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה יְהוָה לְעֵינֵיכֶם בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, לְפַרְעֹה וּלְכָל-עֲבָדָיו, וּלְכָל-אַרְצוֹ. הַמַּסּוֹת, הַגְּדֹלֹת, אֲשֶׁר רָאוּ, עֵינֶיךָ–הָאֹתֹת וְהַמֹּפְתִים הַגְּדֹלִים, הָהֵם. וְלֹא-נָתַן יְהוָה לָכֶם לֵב לָדַעַת, וְעֵינַיִם לִרְאוֹת וְאָזְנַיִם לִשְׁמֹעַ, עַד, הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה – And Moshe called all the Jews, and said to them: “You saw all that Hashem did in Egypt, with your own eyes, to Paroh, his servants, and his land. The great miracles and signs you saw. And Hashem didn’t give you a heart to understand, eyes to see, nor ears to hear, until this day. (29:1-3)

Rashi elaborates that עַד הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה has an undercurrent. In Devarim 31, Moshe writes the Torah in the form we have it, and give it to the Levi’im, who entrusted with the task of safeguarding and teaching Torah. Rashi says that עַד הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה refers to that event. What was the appraisal of their faculties, that on “this day”, Moshe praised the Jews?

Rash explains how when Moshe gave the Torah to the Levi’im, the Jews protested their being singled out for keeping it, with the worry that perhaps Levi would claim the Torah for their own, and exclude the other tribes. When Moshe saw this, he saw the the Torah was precious to them, and said עַד הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה.

R’ Leib Salomon has great difficulty with this. What was the protest going to be, exactly? It couldnt be that they were worried that perhaps the Levi’im would keep the whole Torah for themselves, how could they? Who would give ma’aser, among many other things?

R’ Matisyahu Salomon explains that the Jews were not worried about the Levi’im laying an exclusive claim to mitzvah performance, but rather, the capacity to be a Torah scholar, talmud Torah. When Moshe heard this, he understood how much the Torah meant to them.

R’ Matisyahu points out that “The great miracles and signs you saw” were not enough to persuade Moshe that they had לֵב לָדַעַת, וְעֵינַיִם לִרְאוֹת וְאָזְנַיִם לִשְׁמֹעַ – it was exclusively their desire and passion for Talmud Torah that precipitated this realisation.

Seeing miracles isn’t what makes someone a true servant of Hashem, it is the struggle, the slog, that comes with learning Torah that a Jew has his heart, eyes and ears.

When the Bnei Yisrael assembled on Har Grizim and Har Eival for the blessings and curses, different tribes ascended the different mountains as instructed by Moshe. The people on each peak all spoke in unison to the other peak, in a kind of very loud conversations spanning mountains.

The pasuk tells us that:

אֵלֶּה יַעַמְדוּ לְבָרֵךְ אֶת-הָעָם, עַל-הַר גְּרִזִים, בְּעָבְרְכֶם, אֶת-הַיַּרְדֵּן: שִׁמְעוֹן וְלֵוִי וִיהוּדָה, וְיִשָּׂשכָר וְיוֹסֵף וּבִנְיָמִן. וְאֵלֶּה יַעַמְדוּ עַל-הַקְּלָלָה, בְּהַר עֵיבָל: רְאוּבֵן גָּד וְאָשֵׁר, וּזְבוּלֻן דָּן וְנַפְתָּלִי – These tribes will ascend to bless the people, from Har Grizim, (…), and these are the tribes that will ascend for the curse, on Har Eival (…). (27:12-13)

From the above translation, it is evident that the construct of the commands is subtly different, wherein the people on Har Grizim were actually going to bless everyone, whereas the people on Har Eival were going to be passive, to be there “for the curse”.

Why the disparity?

The Kli Yakar explains that curses only come due to an individuals actions, that cause Hashem to distance himself from a person. The people went up the mountain weren’t going up to affirm that Hashem would curse, as an action, but rather, to affirm that without Hashem’s blessings, that is a curse. But these curses are not fixed.

In Moshe’s opening to the people at the mountains, he says:

הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה, ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ מְצַוְּךָ לַעֲשׂוֹת אֶת-הַחֻקִּים הָאֵלֶּה–וְאֶת-הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים; וְשָׁמַרְתָּ וְעָשִׂיתָ אוֹתָם, בְּכָל-לְבָבְךָ וּבְכָל-נַפְשֶׁךָ – On this day, Hashem your God has commanded you to keep these statutes and laws, and you will guard them and perform them, with all your heart and soul. (26:16)

This pasuk is monumental in its context, but equally to all of us today. Rashi points out that this is written in the present tense, that we have the same obligations every day as when we accepted the Torah and mitzvos.

In the past, we may not have been all we could have been. But we can always draw a line, and start afresh, and say הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה, today is a new day. There is always an opportunity to do become a better person and do Teshuva, most apt as we approach Rosh Hashanah.

The laws of a Ben Sorer Umoreh, a rebellious son, are given in this week’s parsha:

יח. כִּי יִהְיֶה לְאִישׁ בֵּן סוֹרֵר וּמוֹרֶה אֵינֶנּוּ שֹׁמֵעַ בְּקוֹל אָבִיו וּבְקוֹל אִמּוֹ וְיִסְּרוּ אֹתוֹ וְלֹא יִשְׁמַע אֲלֵיהֶם יט. וְתָפְשׂוּ בוֹ אָבִיו וְאִמּוֹ וְהוֹצִיאוּ אֹתוֹ אֶל זִקְנֵי עִירוֹ וְאֶל שַׁעַר מְקֹמוֹ כ. וְאָמְרוּ אֶל זִקְנֵי עִירוֹ בְּנֵנוּ זֶה סוֹרֵר וּמֹרֶה אֵינֶנּוּ שֹׁמֵעַ בְּקֹלֵנוּ זוֹלֵל וְסֹבֵא כא. וּרְגָמֻהוּ כָּל אַנְשֵׁי עִירוֹ בָאֲבָנִים וָמֵת וּבִעַרְתָּ הָרָע מִקִּרְבֶּךָ וְכָל יִשְׂרָאֵל יִשְׁמְעוּ וְיִרָאוּ

18. If a man has a wayward and rebellious son, who does not obey his father or his mother, and they chasten him, and [he still] does not listen to them. 19. his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his city, and to the gate of his place. 20. And they shall say to the elders of his city, “This son of ours is wayward and rebellious; he does not obey us; [he is] a glutton and a guzzler.” 21. And all the men of his city shall pelt him to death with stones, and he shall die. So shall you clear out the evil from among you, and all Israel will listen and fear.

The Gemara in Sanhedrin 71a states that a Ben Sorer Umoreh never happened, and never will. Why is it in the Torah then? So that we will analyse it and be rewarded.

The underlying reason that a Ben Sorer Umoreh would ostensibly have a death sentence is that it is better for him to die innocent, than guilty of murder later in life. But the Torah sets an impossible condition – the parents have to be united in every regard that their son be sentenced to death -no parent would out themselves through this. Furthermore, the age at which Ben Sorer Umoreh applies is limited to the three months after his 13th birthday, he needs to have stolen a certain amount of meat, itself cooked a particular way, he needs to have drunk a certain amount of wine, all on his fathers property.

R’ Moshe Mordechai Epstein has great difficulty with the restrictions to the application of Ben Sorer Umoreh. Furthermore, the reward the Gemara discusses cannot be that we will study more Torah – that is not a reason to be in the Torah, in addition to which, even if it were left out, in a thousand years a person could not hope to complete the entire Torah – the Torah was not short on material that it needed “filler”. This compels him to conclude that the mitzvah of Ben Sorer Umoreh has a more subtle reward than the ability to just have more Torah to study.

By studying this episode, one discovers the Torah’s approach to parenting, to raise them correctly, and if they stray, how to correct them.

When a child is overindulged, it is detrimental to him and society. The Ben Sorer Umoreh is someone who is out of control from the outset of adolescence, and the Torah tells us to learn from it. This is what the pasuk means when it says ובערת הרע בקרבך, וכל ישראל ישמעו ויראו -destroy the evil in your midst, and all of Yisrael will see and fear. The Torah wants us to be balanced individuals, and not wild, carefree and selfish, and tasks us with preventing evil in our children, before it is too late. We should learn from the Ben Sorer Umoreh as the paradigm of what not to do – וכל ישראל ישמעו.

If I may, I would like to suggest that the Gemara itself hinted at this. The Gemara said that the function of Ben Sorer Umoreh was דרוש וקבל שכר – analyse it and receive reward. The Gemara did not say למוד, to study it, but דרוש, analyse it. This is itself וכל ישראל ישמעו, that we learn from the Ben Sorer Umoreh to raise balanced children.

The pasuk tells us with a double statement that:

עשר תעשר – you shall tithe (14:22)

Gemara in Taanis 9a derives from this pasuk that עשר בשביל שתתעשר – one who gives ma’aser, the tithes, will become wealthier. This applies to all other forms of tzedaka, charity, too.

The Vilna Gaon explains that this highly unusual affirmation from the Gemara is due to a difficulty. The standard explanation of a double statement is that it means “to surely” do it, an unlimited amount of times. The difficulty is that the Gemara in Kesubos 50a states that a person is not allowed to give away more than 20% of his income. This would seem to indicate a flaw that a double statement cannot mean to do something with no limit, as it does not apply here – a person is not allowed to give an unlimited amount of money away.

The Vilna Gaon therefore teaches us that this still applies, even to giving charity, wherein a person will have more than he did prior to giving tzedaka, that he will be able to keep giving more, and never give an amount that he wasn’t allowed to. The reward for giving charity is the ability to give more, and it won’t hinder the giver, because we learn that עשר בשביל שתתעשר – a person will be able to keep giving charity.

The pasuk tell us:

 וְלֹא תַחֲנִיפוּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַתֶּם בָּהּ כִּי הַדָּם הוּא יַחֲנִיף אֶת הָאָרֶץ וְלָאָרֶץ לֹא יְכֻפַּר לַדָּם אֲשֶׁר שֻׁפַּךְ בָּהּ כִּי אִם בְּדַם שֹׁפְכוֹ – And you shall not deceive the land in which you live, for the blood corrupts the land, and the blood which is shed in the land cannot be atoned for except through the blood of the one who shed it. (35:34)

The word חניפה means flattery/deception/corruption/obfuscation. The expression seems highly odd in the context of the land.

R’ Moshe Feinstein draws a major distinction between the conventional wisdom of the world, and Jewish law. The world worries about peace and rights – if someone disturbs peace or rights, since the goal is peace, the person destroying it is therefore a target, as they are destroying the world as they see it. Countless wars are fought, with countless dead, because one nation has a claim to repairing and saving the world, or some other ideal.

For Jews, the Torah tells us “Do not murder.” – regardless of who – one may not kill another human being. Even someone who destroys the world is still taken care of by this.

What results from this is that someone who murders or wages war to ostensibly “save the world”, is יַחֲנִיף אֶת הָאָרֶץ – wherein the land takes precedence over a man. He is being murdered for the sake of preservation of the land, for peace!

The Torah tells us that the land is always secondary to the person – all land is worthless if the people on it aren’t upstanding individuals. חניפה is the disconnect between reality and an ideal – we must always know that we have to be real with ourselves, always trying to improve. This is what the pasuk means when it says וְלֹא תַחֲנִיפוּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַתֶּם בָּהּ.

The pasuk teaches that a man who kills someone accidentally is forced to run to an עיר מקלט, a city of refuge, and he must remain there until either he or the Kohen Gadol die. A close family member of the dead man is appointed to chase the murderer, and if he catches up to him before he arrives at the עיר מקלט, is fully permitted to avenge his dead relative and kill his murderer. Gemara in Sanhedrin 45b adds that if no family member will set out to avenge the dead man, then the Beis Din themselves must appoint someone.

The Steipler Gaon explains that the purpose of the murderer fleeing to the עיר מקלט is two-fold – it saves and punishes at the same time. It saves the murderer from being murdered by the person who has set out to avenge his family member, but even in a situation where for some reason the avenger would definitely not kill him, he must still go to the עיר מקלט anyway. He needs to stay there until he dies, and is buried in the עיר מקלט – the avenger can’t kill him one he’s dead, but he still has this punishment there.

The city he runs to is meant to rehabilitate him – he runs to a city of the Levi’im – the teachers of Bnei Yisrael. The reason there needs to be an avenger appointed by the Beis Din is that we must always be responsible and accountable for our actions – this man cannot get away with it, and the Torah teaches us that he cannot bribe his way out – he stays until the end. There must always be justice in the world.

Hashem runs the world on mercy and strict judgment – with the two there is Creation, and there is justice in the world.

The daughters of Tzlafchad came to Moshe and said:

לָמָּה יִגָּרַע שֵׁם אָבִינוּ מִתּוֹךְ מִשְׁפַּחְתּוֹ כִּי אֵין לוֹ בֵּן תְּנָה לָּנוּ אֲחֻזָּה בְּתוֹךְ אֲחֵי אָבִינוּ – Why should our father’s name be eliminated from his family because he had no son? Give us a portion along with our father’s brothers. (27:4)

Rashi explains that this was not an emotional request, rather, a halachic one. אנו במקום בן עומדות, ואם אין הנקבות חשובות זרע, תתיבם אמנו ליבם – We stand in the place a son ought to be, if we do not inherit our father, then let our mother perform yibum – levirate marriage.

A woman does not perform yibum if she has children from her deceased husband – as the children carry on the name of their father. The daughters of Tzlafchad made the association between yibum and inheritance – if they were זרע, progeny enough for yibum, then they ought to inherit, and if they weren’t to inherit, then their mother ought to perform yibum.

Rashi further points out that הא אם היה לו בן לא היו תובעות כלום. מגיד שחכמניות היו – If there had been a brother, they would not have made a claim (and left the inheritance to him). This displayed their intelligence. 

What exactly is the intelligence they displayed?

R’ Yehoshua Hartman explains that they demonstrated their understanding of the function of inheritance. The conventional wisdom is that when the owner dies, his assets are passed on. It is a default process – assets cannot lie unclaimed.

The genuine, Torah, understanding of inheritance is that whatever Hashem blesses someone with becomes a part of who they are. A person’s name takes root in his house – that’s what ownership really is. That is not to say that this goes to the extent of society today where people are defined by how much money they have at the bank. But property does have a certain relationship with the owner, a sort of extension.

When the person dies, the re-allocation of his assets is only to perpetuate the name of the deceased, which his property bears the name of. The people who are the continuation of his legacy will, inherit, which is why children usually inherit, as they are the continuation of their father’s legacy.

The daughters said if we weren’t continuations of their father’s lineage regarding inheritance, then they ought not to be for yibum. They understood what the function of both is to continue the lineage of their father.

The association was so correct, that Hashem told Moshe that they were right, teaching a previously unknown halacha.

Earlier in sefer Bamidbar, a chunk of the people go to Moshe, and lament that they were impure at the time the korban Pesach was offered, and request inclusion in the mitzvah in the form of Pesach Sheni.
In Parshas Korach, it is clear that Korach too seeks more inclusion. Why are they paradigms of how to and how not to perform diplomacy, when the bottom line for both was the same?

There is a concept that all negative characteristics have a positive application. Rabbeinu Yona writes how a person can be jealous of a tzaddik or talmid chacham. Jealousy is an inherently bad trait – however, the jealousy fosters aspirations, and if they are realised, the person grows from it. In this way, מתוך שלו לשמה, בה לשמה – from which it began without the correct intentions, the actions nonetheless develop into something meaningful.

However, there is a caveat to this rule, that all misguided actions are fixed in the long term – one type of action will never become לשמה – a machlokes – an divide. The Mishna in Pirkei Avos 5:17 says: כל מחלוקת שהיא לשם שמים, סופה להתקים. ושאינה לשם שמים, אין סופה להתקים.
איזו היא מחלוקת שהיא לשם שמים? זו מחלוקת הלל ושמאי. ושאינה לשם שמים? זו מחלוקת קרח וכל עדתו – Any argument for the sake of Heaven, will endure in the end. One that is not for sake of Heaven, will not endure. What is the paradigm of an argument for the sake of heaven? Hillel and Shamai. What is the paradigm of an argument not the sake of Heaven? Korah and his congregation.

What are the paradigms, exactly? That an argument in Torah will endure, and that politics will not?

R’ Yaakov Minkus explains that there is more to it than that. Adding the mitzvah of Pesach Sheni was not a problem – the Torah was not closed canon yet. Korach however, was looking to destroy (a cursory reading of Rashi illustrates this).

Hillel and Shamai were looking to build halachos, and build a fabric for life. From one’s point of view, we understand the other better. We need both to build and consolidate.
Not so with Korach. His arguments and divisions were not constructive at all. His claims and goals were baseless and without foundation – this was the midd a k’negged midd a of the earth opening up beneath him – he was not fighting for anything or against anything real. The Mishna says as much. What was the paradigm of an argument not for the sake of heaven? “Korach and his congregation.”. If the parallel to Hilel And Shamai were correct, it ought to have said Korach and Moshe. R ‘ Yaakov Minkus uses this to prove that Korach wasn’t really fighting anyone at all – it was just about causing a stir and break down the system that existed.

This is what Rashi and the Targum mean when they say that ויקח קרח – “And Korach took” – What did he take? Himself, to one side (against the other side, of Moshe.)

It was never about Moshe.

Sefer Vayikra, called Toras Kohanim, or Leviticus, deals with kohanim, their roles and duties throughout. Sefer Shemos, or Exodus, deals with the Exodus and what followed.

Sefer Bamidbar is known as Sefer Pikudim, the Book of Numbers. It is odd that the book takes its name of numbers, given that the numbers of the census after which it seemingly takes its name, appear only in Parshas Bamidbar and Pinchas.

So why is the whole book called Pikudim? R’ Matis Weinberg explains that Bamidbar is not about numbers or countings; but logistics, or context. All the sections discuss the formation, establishment, and development of society, the Machane. But if Bamidbar tracks how to build society, there are bits that don’t seem to fit.

Parshas Naso begins with the different families of Levi, and their respective roles. There are four interceding sections until the continuation of forming the camp, wherein the princes of each tribe bring the Korbanos for their tribe.The interceding mitzvos are about:

(1) how a metzora and zav, certain types of sick people, must leave the camp until rehabilitation,

(2) what happens if a convert dies with no family, his assets are distributed to kohanim,

(3) the law of Sotah and

(4) the law of Nazir.

Why do these four mitzvos appear here, interrupting the flow of establishing the Machane?

R’ Weinberg explains that in truth, they aren’t. They help society deal with exceptions. The laws of the metzora and zav appear in Parshas Metzora, but the laws appearing here don’t pertain to him, so much as ourselves, society. Our society, the Machane, is deficient while he is a part of it, and that is why he must leave. The convert with no family poses a difficulty. Jews tend to have an integrated community setup – with common ancestry, a large enough family tree shows everyone to be related. Yet the convert has no one. This is a system failure; how do we deal with it?

The Torah explains how his assets are distributed, and no one slips through the gaps. The Sotah has trampled on society’s rules, and violated the sanctity of marriage by cavorting with men after warnings not to. How does society respond to people tearing it apart from within? The Torah explains the procedure. The Nazir, whilst displaying admirable commitment, has deviated from what the norm too. Drinking wine and cutting hair are normal things to do; abstaining is abnormal.

Is there a place for odd people? Hashem does not ask for homogenity. The Torah tells us that in a developed society, everyone is part of the setup; even those who don’t seem to fit. The logical continuation of the princes offering korbanos is interrupted specifically to include these people too; an imperfect but ultimately complete society. Regarding the Korbanos, all the princes brought the same selection, yet the Torah saw fit to repeat each group on its own.

Why, given that they were identical? The principle of numbers in Sefer Bamidbar is that being part of a number generates a speciality. Each set of korbanos ends with זה – with a numerical value of 12, the number of tribes. Elsewhere, a number is impersonal; but here, the underlying theme is that speciality lies in being a part of the number, so much so that deviating from it is bad. זה is the collective, the Klal.

The Torah tallies the total number of korbanos brought, because the Torah appreciates the community, wherein the total has greater speciality than the number of individual parts. This principle of standing out by being part of something bigger is true of Birchas Kohanim too – it does not originate from the kohen; but from Hashem. It is for the whole Klal, but personalised.

The halacha is that before the kohanim start they clench their fists, and once they start they open their palms. When the fists are clenched, the fist is flat – everything is the same. But when the fingers protrude, they are all different, much as we all are. It is evident that the way to express individuality is from within the Klal. The parts of an engine are not remarkable. But put them together and it makes the machine – remove a bolt or wire and it’s useless.

The parsha opens with אִם בְּחֻקֹּתַי תֵּלֵכוּ וְאֶת מִצְוֹתַי תִּשְׁמְרוּ וַעֲשִׂיתֶם אֹתָם – If you follow My statutes and observe My commandments and perform them (26:3)

Rav Shach quotes a pasuk from Neviim, Chabakuk 3:6 that הליכות עולם לו – that the ways of the world are Hashems. We say this when we say korbanos at the end of davening, and we quote the ma’amar Chazal that expounds אל תקרי הליכות אלא הלכות – Read it not as ways, but as laws. The הלכות, the Torah, that we bring in to the world, dictates the הליכות, the ways, of Hashem’s world.

Our performance of mitzvos has a very real effect on the world – the mitzvos dictate Read Full Dvar Torah →

One of the curses in the parsha is וְכָשְׁלוּ אִישׁ בְּאָחִיו – Each man will stumble over his brother (26:37)

Rashi remarks that the Torah is referencing tripping over the sins of our brothers. Rashi explains that this curse is the inverse of the famous maxim of כל ישראל ערבין זה לזה – all of Israel are accountable for one another.

R’ Yehoshua Hartman quotes the Maharal, who asks why this is the meaning, and not the literal translation.

The Maharal points out that if someone were to trip over someone on on the ground, it is not related brotherhood – as such, this is not what the pasuk means. When the pasuk says וְכָשְׁלוּ אִישׁ בְּאָחִיו – the tripping is because of the brotherhood – the tripping is over sin, due to the accountability that brotherhood engenders.

The root of the word word ערבין is the word ערב – meaning mixture – it is the same root as the word for tasty, evening, guarantor, Arab and eruv. R’ Ezra Hartman explains that these are all mixtures; An eruv mixes property rights; tasty is the cuisine that “mixes” when digested; evening is twilight, in contrast to בקר which means “differentiate”, in twilight things are hard to make out. The name for ערבי – Arab, is a mixture too. The pasuk in Bereishis says of Yishmael, their ancestor, that יָדוֹ בַכֹּל וְיַד כֹּל בו – his hand will be upon all, and everyone’s hand upon him (16:12). Today, we see this as terrorism. Terrorism has no borders – it is potentially everywhere, in a school, a mall, a bus, a train or a plane.

The Maharal shows how Rashi teaches us that כל ישראל ערבין – the nation is a unit, a brotherhood, a mixture accountable for one another – the pasuk assures us that we will stumble on our brother’s problems it if we do not help them, and therefore we must.

Why is there suffering in the world? More specifically, why does the Torah give the tochacha, the list of all the curses that will afflict the people if they do not keep the Torah properly?

In this world, we have a body and a soul. The Yetzer Hara – the evil inclination – exists in the soul, and the Yetzer Tov – the positive inclination – exists in the body. Ideally, אִם בְּחֻקֹּתַי תֵּלֵכוּ וְאֶת מִצְוֹתַי תִּשְׁמְרוּ – the soul transcends the physical of the world, and the person becomes separate from the world, different, holy.

However, אִם בְּחֻקֹּתַי תִּמְאָסוּ – if the body sins, it comes to the fore, and it supersedes the soul, to the point where soul is almost strangled, as it were. If the soul were to die, the body would be no different to that of animal – lead by sense and impulse.

Suffering is an emergency safety measure that kicks in to avoid this. It minimises the physicality the body partakes in. It prevents the body from getting addicted to what will eventually destroy the soul. In this way, suffering cleanses us.

This applies to all suffering, including the Holocaust.

The victims were martyrs. Whatever they were in life, they were קדושים, holy martyrs, in death. They died על קידוש ה. The Gemara in Sanhedrin explains that in dying על קידוש ה, the victim becomes a figurative and actual korban, a sacrifice. All suffering is smaller degree of this, all suffering is in some way a קרבן לה. The Bluzhever Rebbe used to tell people to get a bracha from a Holocaust survivor for the very same reason.

All suffering reduces the domination of body over soul, of matter over mind,

People usually suffer most in their old age, toward the end of their lives. This is when they are older, and thus free from the sins of their youth. Hashem postpones suffering in the elderly in order that the person may greet his Creator in the most pure and direct way.

Parshas Behar and Bechukosai frequently appear together – Behar teaches about the Torah at Sinai, and Bechukosai is the blessings and curses. R’ Yaakov Minkus explains that they are together because they both take us to Har Sinai – Torah and suffering both.

Suffering removes the framework the Yetzer Hara operates and thrives in. It brings a person closer to Sinai and Hashem by breaking the hold his body has over his soul, purifying and cleansing him.

Regarding Shemitta, the sabbatical year, the pasuk says : וַיְדַבֵּר יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶל מֹשֶׁה בְּהַר סִינַי לֵאמֹר – (25:1)

Rashi explains that in the same way that Shemitta was taught in detail at Sinai, all other mitzvos were taught in the same way.

Shemitta is a key mitzva, much like Shabbos, which is a reference point for other mitzvos. Through the performance of key mitzvos, we find a gateway to the performance of all others. The Sfas Emes explains that Shemitta here is truly the reference point for all mitzvos, utilising the above Rashi.

The pasuk (25:2) says כִּי תָבֹאוּ אֶל הָאָרֶץ – When you come to the land. The Torah says this many times in Chumash – that is to say that when the Jews get to Eretz Yisrael, the reason the land is given is to fulfil God’s will.

The way the Jews have freedom in the the land is solely in this way – through marginalising themselves and their egos, by subjugating themselves to Hashem. In the case of Shemitta, the subjugation manifests itself that we are told to refrain from working the land. The reason this is so is that people become enslaved by their work – it consumes them, and it becomes them. These people do not and cannot stop. The Sfas Emes explains that this concept enables us to serve Hashem – from being released from all consuming work, we can devote our strength to the same extent to His service.

This is why we were sent to Egypt, and why we were released. There must be a burden in order for us to realise how much we can carry – one the burden is removed, we can carry our faith freely. The Sfas Emes compares this to our eternal struggle with the Yetzer Hara, and why it starts immediately. In the same way, Eretz Canaan had to have idolatry and immorality to the degree that it’s inhabitants had to be destroyed, in order for it to become Eretz Yisrael, containing the Beis HaMikdash. This concept manifests itself freely.

The point of Shemitta and Shabbos is to bear witness that Hashem sustains existence anew every day. We say every morning that Hashem is ברוך אומר ועושה – Hashem says, and Hashem does. The Sfas Emes explains that Hashem said, and created something from nothing – but Hashem also does, every day, now that Creation exists, maintains it. 

The Sfas Emes develops this further, and says that the same is true of mitzvos. Every mitzva we do should arouse and inspire us – every day. The life we get from a mitzva’s performance should be anew each time, and the same with Torah. The Sfas Emes teaches us that the preparation and freshness, of everything, only serves to enable what comes after.

Tosfos explain that Sefiras Ha’Omer is a rabbinical law, in memory of the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash. The reason this is so is that the pasuk says:

וּסְפַרְתֶּם לָכֶם מִמָּחֳרַת הַשַּׁבָּת מִיּוֹם הֲבִיאֲכֶם אֶת עֹמֶר הַתְּנוּפָה שֶׁבַע שַׁבָּתוֹת תְּמִימֹת תִּהְיֶינָה – And you shall count for yourselves, from the morrow of the rest day, from the day you bring the omer as a wave offering seven weeks; they shall be complete. (23:15)

The Rambam disagrees, and says it is a commandment directly from the Torah to count today. Looking at the above pasuk, it seems difficult to suggest this, as we don’t bring a Korban Omer – so how can we say there is a mitzva today to count the Sefira?

R’ Yaakov Minkus explains that there are two reasons for counting Sefira.

Tosfos say that the Sefira marks the beginning of the harvest cycle. Pesach marks the beginning, and is called ראש הקציר – the initiation of the harvest. It was marked through the Korban Omer, and allowed the consumption of new grain within the Beis HaMikdash. Shavuos marks the end, and is called חג הקציר – the celebration of the harvest. It was marked through the Shtei HaLechem, which allowed the consumption of new produce, outside the Beis HaMikdash, and everywhere.

The Sefira is the process of enabling produce. We return the first of the harvest, the beginning, to Hashem. The Korban Omer exists to show our fealty and identity with Hashem. The Sefira results from this.

The Rambam explains that the pasuk’s instruction is to count מִיּוֹם הֲבִיאֲכֶם אֶת עֹמֶר – from the day, that is to say, not from the Korban itself. So what is it we are counting from today then?

The Sefer HaChinuch teaches that counting Sefira takes us to Har Sinai. It is easy to think of Pesach as a standalone day where we celebrate our liberation – it is not so. Pesach was the sole means by which we could transition from slavery to Shavuos and receiving the Torah.

Shavuos is an annual occurrences. It occurs without the Korban Omer – this is how it can still be a mitzva to count Sefira. We count מִמָּחֳרַת הַשַּׁבָּת – from after Pesach, not the Korban itself.

When a person makes a bracha, they say אשר קדשנו במצותיו, וצונו. Women have the first part, the אשר קדשנו במצותיו, but not the second, וצונו. Har Sinai gave us the Torah and it’s 613 commandments in a general sense. The women accepted the Torah in a general sense too. Although women are exempt from many mitzvos, which is to say they don’t have to, it does not mean they cannot grow from their performance – this is קדשנו. A non-Jew who performs a mitzva does not have either part of the bracha, and cannot grow from the performance of a mitzva.

This is the difference between Pesach and Shavuos. Pesach is full of mitzvos; the Korban Pesach, circumcision, the Seder. In performing Hashem’s instructions, we became His people, subjugated to Him. This is all וצונו. However, Sinai is Torah. This gave mitzvos a קדשנו – which women are also subject to. Sefira connects the אשר קדשנו במצותיו to the וצונו.

But the Sefira is not “just” to connect Pesach to Shavuos, the mitzvos to the Torah; but also, the other way around, Shavuos to Pesach. The first of the Ten Commandments is אָנֹכִי ה’ אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֲשֶׁר הוֹצֵאתִיךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם מִבֵּית עֲבָדִים – (to know that) “I am the Lord, your God, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage”. How can the first (or any) commandment be faith?

The first command specifies that Hashem took us out of Egypt. Egpyt and faith are inextricably linked. We were not liberated from Egypt at all – we were transferred. In the same way we recognised that Hashem had taken us out of Egypt, that same Hashem was giving us the Torah, based on a belief in Him. Sinai’s eternity is based on having been taken out of Egypt, and in this way Sefira links Shavuos and Pesach, both backwards and forwards.

There is a very basic question one can ask about Olam Haba – the World to Come. It is our reward for being Jews, and as such, central to Jewish life. But if it so important, why doesn’t the Torah mention or discuss it anywhere?

The Maharal explains that the question is flawed. To promise something that is not empirically true or provable is cheap, and moreover, useless. The Rosh says that הרוצה לשקר ירחיק עדותו – about one who wants to lie, distance his testimony. We could be promised 72 golden cows, or similar, but the promise is essentially worthless, in the same way that a pop-up or scratch card assure you have won a billion dollars.

Hashem doesn’t have a problem telling us to keep the Shemittah, the Sabbatical year. It comes with a guarantee that for the farmers who keep it faithfully, the sixth year will yield a triple harvest – וְצִוִּיתִי אֶת בִּרְכָתִי לָכֶם בַּשָּׁנָה הַשִּׁשִּׁית וְעָשָׂת אֶת הַתְּבוּאָה לִשְׁלֹשׁ הַשָּׁנִים – I will command My blessing for you in the sixth year, and it will yield produce for three years. (25:21). There are countless stories even in recent years of farmers who have miraculously experienced a triple yield in spite of difficulties, such as drought, crop failure or insects plaguing neighboring fields. This is the strength of Torah.

It is no weakness in Judaism to not discuss Olam Haba. It is the strength of Torah to tell us about what is relevant in our lives, which Olam Haba is not.

בְּצֶדֶק תִּשְׁפֹּט עֲמִיתֶךָ – You shall judge your fellow with righteousness (19:15)

Rashi paraphrases the appropriate ma’amar Chazal on this, from the Gemara in Shabbos 127b, that ת”ר הדן חבירו לכף זכות דנין אותו לזכות – that the Rabbis taught that one who judges his fellow favorably is judged favorably in return.

The Ba’al Shem Tov explains the mechanism through which we are judged when we leave this world. When a person gets to Heaven, he will be ushered into a courtroom, and will be told he is required to pass judgment on a case. They bring the case before him, and the prosecution speaks, then the defense. This new-comer-come-judge pounds the gavel and declares the defendant guilty.

The angels pull him aside, and they say to him, “R’ Yid, the man we are judging is you. Don’t you remember that time you…”. They then list the amount of times he was guilty

R’ Yisroel Reisman points out that this is why we call this process דין וחשבן – a ruling and accounting. The ruling comes before the accounting.

R’ Reisman asks a poignant question – this mechanism will work on everyone. Everyone that is, except people who already know this. When it is eventually and inevitably their turn to judge, and they declare everyone and everything innocent, when they are informed “R’ Yid, this man is you” – will they feign surprise and truly be absolved? Read Full Dvar Torah →

קְדֹשִׁים תִּהְיוּ כִּי קָדוֹשׁ אֲנִי ה’ אֱלֹהֵיכֶם – You shall be holy, because I, the Lord, your God, am holy. (19:2)

The Midrash in Vayikra Rabba points out that Hashem did not say “Be קָדוֹשׁ, like I am קָדוֹשׁ”, but rather, “Be קָדוֹשׁ , because I am קָדוֹשׁ”. Hashem cannot tell us to be like Him, as Hashem’s קדושה is greater than ours.

Rav Shach quotes the Rambam which explains that we are instructed to perform the mitzva והלכת בדרכיו (Devarim 28:9) – to emulate Hashem’s ways. It would seem that since the pasuk said אֲנִי ה’ אֱלֹהֵיכֶם , the instruction was to be קָדוֹשׁ specifically because we are meant to attempt to be more spiritually inclined, which is what the Midrash addresses.

Rav Shach then contrasts this with a later halacha, which clarifies the previous one. The Rambam states that a person who removes himself from day to day life, refrains from eating meat or drinking wine, and has limited contact with people, is still following the wrong path, and it is forbidden to behave in such a manner.

As such, even though we are meant to emulate Hashem’s ways, we are incapable of being separate from existence in the way Hashem is. As the Midrash said; “Hashem’s קדושה is greater than ours.” Our ability to be קָדוֹשׁ is confined to this world, and it is only through this world that we can attain קדושה . R Shach thus explains that our attempts at והלכת בדרכיו with regard to קדושה is only because Hashem is קָדוֹשׁ , but we are incapable of being like Hashem.

The Aruch HaShulchan wonders why the subsequent pasuk is juxtaposed to אִישׁ אִמּוֹ וְאָבִיו תִּירָאוּ וְאֶת שַׁבְּתֹתַי תִּשְׁמֹרוּ אֲנִי ה’ אֱלֹהֵיכֶם – Every man shall fear his mother and his father, and you shall observe My Shabbosos – I am the Lord, your God. (19:3)

The Aruch HaShulchan explains that in the Ten Commandments, כבד את אביך and שמור את יום השבת were followed by כאשר צוה ה – As Hashem commanded. The reason this is so is that the people who gave you life, cared for you, and made you as a person, are logically deserving of respect. Equally, a day off of work makes a lot of sense too! A rested, happy, worker is more productive. The pasuk therefore stresses that we are not to perform these actions as logical decisions, but rather, kasher tziva hashem.

[It is worth noting that the first set of Luchos did not contain these last few words. The first set of Luchos were made entirely by Hashem (as opposed to hewn from actually rock by Moshe, like the second ones). It seems that Torah learned from the first set of Luchos would never be forgotten, and the people would become like angels. This is why Moshe did not forget the Torah, and why his face shone when he came down the first time at Har Sinai. The first set of Luchos was meant for people who would become like angels – there was no need to tell them כאשר צוה ה.]

This is why the pasuk also attached כאשר צוה ה – through doing these mitzvos purely because כאשר צוה ה, and אֲנִי ה’ אֱלֹהֵיכֶם ,we become קְדֹשִׁים תִּהְיוּ. This can be a reference point to us for all mitzvos – when we want to become קָדוֹשׁ, it is not purely through spirituality that we can do so, echoing what Rav Shach taught. By “taking a day off”, and observing Shabbos Kodesh, we become קָדוֹשׁ. This further brings the words of the Midrash to life, that “Hashem’s קדושה is greater than ours” – precisely because our קדושה is to be found in the physical,

There is a dichotomy regarding the Matza on Pesach. Is it poor man’s bread, indicative of slavery; or is it because of the redemption, that they were freed before they had time to prepare bread?

The Sfas Emes explains that we cannot celebrate being freed from Egypt on it’s own; we must celebrate the fact we were enslaved as well. If we were capable of being a nation that could serve Hashem in freedom initially, we need not have been enslaved, and if we could serve Hashem in slavery, we weren’t in need of rescue. So being enslaved in Egypt was a key part of the process through which we became Hashem’s people.

What transition took place in Egypt that created a nation capable of serving God?

The Sfas Emes explains by being in crushing slavery, the people were far beyond their comfort zones, and pushed way past the extremes of what they thought they were capable of. This was a life lesson to the people that the arrogance and ego of man could be removed, and a person could devote his entire being to something. This was a key stage in becoming Hashem’s servants – the people knew what it meant to give their all; which would not have been the same thing without the ravages of slavery.

The Sfas Emes explains that this is what all evils and adversity in life are for – they educate us about our limits, and more than that, they show us the opposite extremes to which we can aspire, attain and transcend. This is the only purpose they serve, just like Egypt. If they weren’t there to help us become closer to Hashem, they would have no function, and therefore would not exist.

This was the only way in people could have accepted Hashem as their King entirely; in the same way they had been entirely subjugated to Paroh, they could now subjugate themselves entirely to Hashem. This was the critical moment the Jews were born as a nation. As we say in Shema every day: אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלוקים – “That I took you out of Egypt to be for you a God” (Bamidbar 15:41). The causation is clear – we had to have been in Egypt before, in order to be taken out, to become everything we were meant to be.

Being God’s people hinges on the need to have subdued arrogance and ego. This is what טוב אחרית הדבר מראשיתו means – “the end is better than the beginning” (Koheles 7:8). It was far from pleasant to be in Egypt, but what followed was receiving the Torah.

The Sfas Emes tells us that our celebration of leaving Egypt must hinge around the fact that we became better once we left – we accepted Hashem as our King and our God, and we received the Torah. The first thing we did on being freed was for Hashem – this is why there is a concept of firsts going to Hashem, for example the korban Omer (and Pidyon haBen, bikkurim etc).

This is what is so vital on Seder night, to relive the Exodus from Egypt. It is when we became God’s people.

The Sfas Emes answers that this is why Matza correlates to both slavery as well as freedom – it is devoid of the ego, exemplified by chametz, yet it also correlates to the freedom – the process of freedom started when we were slaves. It is how we became truly free to serve Hashem.

Our freedom stems from having not been free once.

In the Haggada we read; חכם מה הוא אומר? מה העדות והחוקים והמשפטים אשר צו ה’ אלוקינו אתכם– What does the wise son ask? “What are the testimonies, statutes and laws that God our Lord commanded you?”

The Sfas Emes understands that the wise son is asking the reasons behind the laws, not the laws themselves. Since he is the wise son, it is assumed that he knows the laws. However, how can he ask for a reason for the statutes? חוקים do not have reason, for example, the Para Aduma and sha’atnez. These mitzvos have no clear reason. So why does the wise son ask for the reason for these types of mitzvos?

In Tehillim, we say; “מַגִּיד דְּבָרָיו לְיַעֲקֹב חֻקָּיו וּמִשְׁפָּטָיו לְיִשְׂרָאֵל – He told his words to Yakov, His statutes and laws to Israel”. מַגִּיד implies a discussion – the implication is that חוקים is not just an instruction, but a talking point, something to be talked about. So חוקים have meaning as well – but how can discover these reasons? The Sfas Emes explains that the way to attain an understanding of the חוקים is by doing them even without understanding, but with the belief that what we are doing has a deeper significance. By performing these mitzvos without understanding why, we merit knowing the reason eventually.

The Sfas Emes explains that the mitzva of matza alludes to this. The matza is made of flour and water. It has no additional taste. In Hebrew the same word is used for taste and for reason – טעם. We specifically do not add any טעם to it to show that the command itself has enough טעם for us.

Through this, we develop a closer relationship with Hashem, a Naaseh v’Nishma of sorts, that we do as instructed even though we don’t understand.

The answer we give the wise son is, “We do not eat any dessert after the Pesach lamb.” He wants to know the טעם for the mitzvos including the חוקים . We tell him that the way to know the reasons is to do them, without knowing why, but with faith in Hashem’s command. We hint this when we tell him not to add to the טעם of the Korban Pesach.

It seems that asking the right questions leads to self discovery, and that it is most important to simply place one’s trust in Hashem .

Before the commandments regarding the arayos, forbidden relationships, the pasuk begins with:

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם אֲנִי ה’ אֱלֹהֵיכֶם – Speak to the children of Israel, and say to them: I am the Lord, your God (18:2).

This is a pasuk that appears frequently in Chumash. Rashi here explains that it is a paraphrase of Sinai, and this rings true for every occurrence of this pasuk and similar:

אני ה’ אלהיכם: אני הוא שאמרתי בסיני (שמות כ:ב) אנכי ה’ אלהיך, וקבלתם עליכם מלכותי, מעתה קבלו גזרותי – I am the Lord, your God: “I am He who said at Sinai (Shemos 20:2) I am the Lord, your God – and there you accepted my Kingship, now you accept my decrees.”

God is instructing Moshe to tell us that in the same way we accepted the yoke of heaven at Mount Sinai, we should now accept His decrees. The instruction to perform mitzvos is based solely on our acceptance of Hashem.

The Sfas Emes explains that this is not just an idea – this is practical advice that can be applied to all mitzvos. The intent upon doing any mitzva needs to be to accept the yoke of heaven. This is the very purpose of the mitzvah. Doing as Hashem instructs confirms that we defer to Him.

With this concept, the Sfas Emes explains why it is that Nadav and Avihu died. The pasuk says: וַיִּקְחוּ בְנֵי אַהֲרֹן נָדָב וַאֲבִיהוּא אִישׁ מַחְתָּתוֹ וַיִּתְּנוּ בָהֵן אֵשׁ וַיָּשִׂימוּ עָלֶיהָ קְטֹרֶת וַיַּקְרִבוּ לִפְנֵי’ ה’ אֵשׁ זָרָה אֲשֶׁר לֹא צִוָּה אֹתָם – And Ahron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, each took his pan, put fire in them, and placed incense upon it, and they brought before the Lord foreign fire, which He had not commanded them. (10:1)

וַתֵּצֵא אֵשׁ מִלִּפְנֵי ה’ וַתֹּאכַל אוֹתָם וַיָּמֻתוּ לִפְנֵי הֹ – And fire went forth from before the Lord and consumed them, and they died before the Lord. (10:2)

The Sfas Emes explains that אֲשֶׁר לֹא צִוָּה אֹתָם, that they weren’t commanded, was the cause of their deaths, as it was their attitude that led to to the אֵשׁ זָרָה .  This should be astounding – they were held responsible not for what they had done, that they offered a foreign fire, but because of their outlook, what they had done represented – they were expressing themselves in a way that God had not asked, and for this they died. It is therefore clear from this episode that our key aim in doing a mitzva should be to do G-d’s will, and the performance of said mitzva should stem from this alone.

Accepting the yoke of Heaven and deveikus, cleaving to Hashem, are interchangeable. When one does a mitzva, their soul moves closer to Hashem, and this develops our relationship with Him. Our relationship grows stronger through the performance of mitzvos, and vice versa with sins. As our perception and feeling to Hashem grows, Hashem comes closer to us too, as it were.

The Sfas Emes explains that this is the translation of the pasuk: וּשְׁמַרְתֶּם אֶת חֻקֹּתַי וְאֶת מִשְׁפָּטַי אֲשֶׁר יַעֲשֶׂה אֹתָם הָאָדָם וָחַי בָּהֶם אֲנִי ה - You shall observe My decrees and My laws, which a man will do and live by them. I am the Lord. (18:5).

וָחַי בָּהֶם is not an instruction, it is a statement. Since the mitzvos are the mechanism through which we draw life into this world, it follows that we can draw life to everything by transforming every action into a mitzvah. Chazal allude to this concept when they say that the wicked, even as they live, are considered dead. This is because they are without mitzvos. וָחַי בָּהֶם – by doing mitzvos, there will be life.

Significantly, the pasuk is in the future tense, “אֲשֶׁר יַעֲשֶׂה אֹתָם – which a man will do,”. The Torah is teaching us to be constantly prepared to do God’s will. Hoping for an opportunity to do God’s will is what this pasuk calls, keeping “My decrees and My laws”. With this approach, when the opportunity arises, we will perform the mitzvah properly and it will have the greatest positive effect on ourselves and our surroundings. Following the beginning of the pasuk leads us to the end result of וָחַי בָּהֶם. Looking for the opportunities to do God’s will is the path to life and happiness.

The Sfas Emes has shown that doing mitzvos is the way we accept Hashem’s kingship. Mitzvos encompass all human activity – there is a way to do everything in a halachically prescribed manner. Hence, by doing mitzvos we can bring all creation closer to Hashem. By doing HaShem’s will, we are accepting His authority, and in so doing we can bring life and joy to the world.

With korbanos, the sacrifices, there is a concept within certain categories of korban called olah v’yored – where the animal offered will vary, dependent on the person’s status. For example, Parshas Tazria deals with a woman who gives birth – olah v’yored applies, and as such, a woman from a wealthy family offers a חטאת and עולה of sheep, and a woman from a poor family offers a חטאת and עולה of doves.

But what if a poor person decides to save up, and instead of bringing the doves, he chooses to offer a wealthy man’s offering of sheep/cows? In other words; are people confined to their social status?

The halacha according to all is that if a wealthy man were to bring a poor man’s offering of doves, he has definitely not fulfilled his obligation. So the, olah v’yored applies to the animals, and it applies to the supplicant if he attempts to downgrade his responsibility. So the question becomes: can a person upgrade their responsibility?

The Sefer Hachinuch says that a poor person who upgrades his sacrifice from the birds to the cows has not fulfilled his obligation. The Rambam disputes this, and says that he has.

What is the basis of the dispute?

There is a story told about R’ Meir Schapira, at a gathering of all the pre-war Gedolim. He presented this very question, and asked how the Sefer HaChinuch could suggest he hadn’t fulfilled his obligation, possibly contradicting various Gemaras.

Present at the gathering, was the Imrei Emes, the Gerrer Rebbe. He simply muttered, “there is a missing korban”. Those gathered were puzzled what the Rebbe had meant. Among his attending disciples was R’ Menachem Zemba of Warsaw, a renowned genius, who took the floor. “Let us analyse where the Sefer HaChinuch says his halacha. There are 6 applications of the concept of olah v’yored:”

1. A ritually impure person who enters the area of the Beis haMikdash

2. A ritually impure person who eats kodshim (produce set aside for kohanim)

4. A person who falsely swears he did not witness an event, thereby avoiding needing to testify

5. A woman who gives birth

6. A person stricken with tzara’as (a metzora)

“5+6 are different. The wealthy person brings one animal, as does the poor person. Not so in 1-4, delineated in Parshas Vayikra, wherein the wealthy person only bring the חטאת , and no עולה , thereby only needing one animal. The Gemara that the Sefer HaChinuch seemed to go against, that a poor person who brings a rich mans offering has indeed fulfilled his obligation, was regarding 5+6, where there were two animals, brought by both the rich and poor.”

“However, in Parshas Vayikra, where the pasuk discusses cases 1-4, it is insufficient for a poor person to bring a wealthy man’s offering – he’s missing an animal!”

“The Ibn Ezra discusses the possible causes for the discrepancy in how many animals a person would bring, based on his social standing.”

“1. A poor man would by definition be unhappy with his standing in life, and he would bear a grudge against Heaven for his misfortune. This necessitates an additional animal.”

“2. A wealthy person’s offering has a large enough portion to burn on the Mizbeach by itself, a cow is a very large animal. Not so with a bird, with a woefully small portion to burn. It is disrespectful to offer such a miniscule portion, and this necessitates a whole new animal to satisfice the demands of the Mizbeach.”

The genius continued; “So the Sefer HaChinuch would agree with the first possibility. It doesn’t help for a poor person, who must bring the second to atone for his grudge against Heaven, to bring one animal. He has not addressed this feeling within, and as the Rebbe said, there is a korban missing.”

However, the Rambam would hold with the second option, that the second animal is not brought because of the person, but rather, by the nature of the animal being offered. If he were to bring a cow, there would be no need for a second animal, and he would indeed have fulfilled his responsibility!

We are charged with an eternal war against Amalek:

וַיֹּאמֶר, כִּי-יָד עַל-כֵּס יָהּ, מִלְחָמָה לה’, בַּעֲמָלֵק–מִדֹּר, דֹּר – And God said, “Because there is a hand upon the throne of God; Hashem’s war with Amalek spans all generations,”. (Shemos 17:15)

This prominent statement, the conclusion of Parashas Zachor, cries out profusely for elaboration. Rashi points out that the word used for throne in this verse, כס, has a different spelling to the usual כסא. In addition, the Name of God that is used in this pasuk is י-ה , which contains only half of the letters that comprise Hashem’s full and ineffable four-letter appellation. Rashi concludes that this is part of the Divine oath; that neither God’s Name nor His throne can be complete until Amalek’s name is eradicated.

The Maharal probes the unique essence of Amalek and why he is such a formidable opponent of God, Truth and Yisrael. The Maharal states that unlike other nations, Amalek is an incessant enemy of the Jews, who opposes them across the ages. Indeed, it was revealed in Sefer Bereishis, through the inability of Esav and Yaakov to reside in the same womb, that Amalek and the Jews are incompatible, diametrically opposing entities. If one rises, the other must fall. This conflict was glaringly illustrated when Amalek attacked the Jews as they came out of Mitzrayim. As Rashi comments, Amalek is even prepared to commit suicide if it will dampen the flames of Jewish inspiration. The Amalekim are the original suicide attackers.

It is surely a fundamental Torah precept that God is omnipotent and infinite; his completeness is independent and indestructible. Yet how exactly does Amalek cause Hashem’s Name to be rendered incomplete? Furthermore, how does Amalek seemingly dethrone Hashem? The imagery of the Midrash appears to be equally baffling.

The Maharal explains that Hashem’s name reflects absolute oneness. Indeed, we declare thrice daily the mantra, שמע ישראל ה אלוקינו ה אחד – Hashem’s Name is One. Now, oneness is harmony’s partner and is undermined by discord and disunity, which is exactly what Amalek stands for. Because a partnership between Yisrael and Amalek is impossible, division enters the universe.

This broken world now becomes a place where unity and the Divine Name are concealed since oneness is blurred by Amalek’s obfuscation. Of course, Hashem is impeccably One and is utterly unaffected; it is just that our perception of Him and His oneness is diminished by Amalek’s divisive influence. The word Amalek, which has the numerical value of ספק – meaning doubt, brings exactly that into our realm. Amalek’s existence causes us doubt to ourselves and our better judgment. What was once a clear and vivid appreciation of God’s uniqueness becomes fragile, fractured and belittled.

This also explains how Amalek limits God’s throne. The throne represents the concept of Malchus, Hashem’s undisputed kingship over the world and its inhabitants. This notion is also rooted in the idea of God’s oneness. Only when there is a unique and empowered monarch can true sovereignty reign supreme. That is the reason, writes the Maharal, why we say, ברוך שם כבוד מלכותו לעולם ועד – “Praise the glory of His Kingdom for eternity” immediately following the declaration of unity, ה אחד in Shema. This demonstrates that God’s Kingdom is predicated on His uniqueness as king. Amalek’s splinters, contaminates and ultimately destroys the clarity of this recognition.

The task on Purim is the alchemist’s charge: to turn the turpitude of Amalek into religious gold. When we blur the distinction between Baruch Mordechai and Arur Haman, between good and evil, we revisit a world in which Amalek no longer dulls our senses and numbs our hearts. We catch a glimpse of the Source of all, the King of kings, Whose existence is unlike any other and Who lovingly awaits our reaching out Him.

(זאת התורה לעולה למנחה לחטאת ולאשם וגו’     (צו ז:לז

“This is the law of the burnt-offering, the meal-offering, the sin-offering, and the guilt-offering;” (Parshas Tzav 7:37)

The Gemara (Menachos 110a) extrapolates from this pasuk that one who toils in the parsha of the Korban Olah is considered as if he has brought a Korban Olah. One who toils in the parsha of the Korban Chatas considered as if he has brought a Korban Chatas, etc.

Rabbeinu Bachayei writes: “The idea [behind this Gemara] is that a person should contemplate and recognize the explanation of the Parsha [which he is learning] and to what it alludes. As a consequence of this, he will fathom and understand wonders from the Torah of Korbanos which will result in increased efforts in performing Torah and Mitzvos, and atonement for his sin as if he brought korbanos. For one cannot say that the intent [of this Gemara] is that a person should simply read the words of the Parsha without understanding them.

Similar to this, Chazal say [Gemara Brachos 4a]: ‘Anyone who says Tehila L’David [Ashrei] every day is promised to be a Ben Olam Habah.’ The intent being that by contemplating and recognizing what the pasukim teach and to what they allude, one will recognize the wonders of Hakadosh Baruch Hu and strengthen his heart with emunah in Hashem and His service, with which he will merit Olam Habah.”

Our great leader and sage, Rabbeinu Bachayei, student of the holy Rashba, has set down for us a significantly important cornerstone in our faith. The dissemination of this point is a mitzva. The Jewish religion is not one of superstitions. Rather, the objective is fairly simple: by doing what Hashem wants of us, like keeping the Torah and doing Mitzvos, we find favor in Hashem’s eyes and merit Olam Habah. And if not, chas v’shalom…

In Judaism there are no tricks or shortcuts or anything of that sort. On the contrary, practicing “segulas” makes Judiasm appear primitive and childish. The only reason why shaking a palm branch on Succos does not appear as such is because Hashem told us to do it. Had He not, but had there been some “tradition” that doing so would make the “shaker” wealthy or bring rain, this would not prevent him (not to mention the religion) from looking very foolish. Even when Chazal make statements that imply a guaranteed positive result to one who does or says a certain thing, Rabbeinu Bachayei is explaining to us that Chazal’s intention was in recognizing and working on the meaning behind the act or the saying. Avodas Hashem is just that: serving Hashem; it involves a cognizant (thinking and knowing) relationship, not just habitual acts.

Although there are certain things which can help our avoda (like looking into a siddur when davening to improve concentration), they are not “segulas” in the classic sense, but rather experience-tested methods which are basically guaranteed. A wilder example would be what Rabbi Akiva Eiger writes in his glosses to Shulchan Aruch (Yorah Deah 336:1): “The Maharil said, ‘We are forbidden to attempt any of the medical advice that is mentioned in the Talmud since we are unable to fully understand them. They will not be effective, resulting in criticism and mockery of the words of our Sages. This is not including the advice mentioned in the Gemara Shabbos (67a), the one who has a bone stuck in his throat shall bring from the very same type, that is to say the same type of bone, and place it on his forehead and say, ‘Chad chad nachis bula bula nachis chad chad.’ This incantation is guaranteed, therefore only this one are we allowed to continue to practice, and not a single one more.’” This tool is not simply “hocus pocus,” but rather an example of the medical knowledge of Chazal which even we are not inadequate enough to botch.

The bottom line is – we need to drum it into ourselves that the only way to serve Hashem is with full awareness and cognizance (see Isaiah 29:13-14 regarding “lip-service” in Avodas Hashem). If we do our part and try, Hashem will help us continue in the right path (see Menachos 29b בא לטהר מסייעין אותו). May we merit serving Hashem b’emes.

כל המתפלל בעד חברו והוא צריך לאותו דבר הוא נענה תחילה

One who prays for a friend, and needs the same thing, he is answered first – Bava Basra 92a

There is a very obvious question to ask on this famous and oft quoted Gemara. Why should the person davening take priority and be answered first? This is exacerbated  when we note that the person davening made no mention of himself at all.

There are several points in this Gemara that require clarification.

The Gemara used the phrase והוא צריך – the person praying must be facing the same problem – this is important to note. This is however, just a point to note, and not a reason for the Gemara’s statement.

We can suggest that in answer to the first part of the question, the reasoning for the Gemara, is that the person has performed a phenomenal act of chessed – commonly translated as loving kindness, but a good word for it is altruism. The definition of the term is that the person had no other motives for what they did – and here is a person who is in the same situation as  oneself, and the person praying has put himself on the side entirely and devoted a prayer to see someone else get helped. So we must say that it is the power of the underlying chessed, and not the power of the prayer itself, that is the reason behind the Gemara. As such, it would seem that one who prays for another person with this Gemara in mind is not really performing an act of chessed at all, and would find that this does not work. Undoubtedly the prayer is itself important, but one will not see the effects about which the Gemara speaks.

The second part of the question, where the person praying was mentioned that he would find himself answered first, in answered by what the general nature of any tefilla is. There is a concept that a תפלה של רבים – a group prayer – is more potent and powerful than a תפלה של יחיד– an individual’s prayer, and this has many reasons to it. Furthermore, there are many resultant halachos about davening with a minyan

When a person prays for another individual, they are adding to the pool of tefillos. To illustrate this: we say in Shemoneh Esrei every day the prayer of “ולירושלים” – that Jerusalem should be rebuilt in our days – what about the 2,000 years worth of our ancestors prayers requesting the same thing? They passed away before seeing their prayers answered, but could one suggest their prayers didn’t help? G-d forbid! The Beis Hamikdash will be rebuilt, one brick at a time. It is certain that our ancestors will receive their due credit for helping us get there.

This is why there is no such thing as a group prayer going to waste – a prayer for a member of the community’s recovery from sickness, a shidduch for a neighbour, success in business for a friend – even if we don’t see our prayers answered the way we would like, they still count to the pool of group tefillos. Like our ancestors will receive their reward for helping Jerusalem be rebuilt, we are credited for these prayers – so really, when praying for someone else, our name is on that prayer, so really, the person praying never needed to mention himself.

There will always be a tremendous value on davening for another Jew in need.

It’s a very basic question, and there are many approaches to take. The Ramban on Vayikra 1:9 discusses various approaches we will analyse, and is widely considered one of the fundamental parts of the Ramban’s commentary on the Chumash.

The Ramban quotes the Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim as the first approach. The Rambam writes there that the idea of Jews using animal sacrifice was necessary for the people as they needed a physical method of worship, having been a part of the pagan culture in Egypt and other such places. To battle and rectify the idol worship in the world, the Jews would do the same action for a sacred purpose.

The Ramban disagrees strongly with this on many facets. If we base an entire method of service to Hashem on the actions of fools and sinners, why would Hashem gain anything from it at all? Vayikra 1:9 says that the korban creates אשה ריח ניחוח ליהוה – Hashem “enjoys” the fact that we bring korbanos. The implication of the Rambam is that the korbanos are more for man than Hashem, but  if the korbanos were for man, why would Hashem enjoy it? We must find a suitable explanation for bringing korbanos that also explains why Hashem instructs it of us, rather than why why we ought to do it.

The Ramban points out that if the Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim is correct, that Jewish animal sacrifice only exists to battle idol worship, then we would not find instances of korbanos before an instance of idol worship. But this is not so – Adam was the first human – there were obviously no other people around to worship idols – yet he brought korbanos nonetheless, and so too with Noach; his family were the sole survivors of the Flood – so again, there could be no idol worshippers – and we find that nonetheless he did bring korbanos. How would the Rambam explain these instances where there was no idol worship to fight?

He further asks why the solution to idol worship would be to do the same thing in a different way – this seems to lend credibility to the idolatry the korbanos are trying to fight, chas v’shalom. It would seem that it would be better to just eat animals and not have sacrifices at all if we were indeed trying to fight the credibility of idol worship, as eating them shows we don’t consider them to be worthy of special attention.

R’ Yakov Minkus explains the solution to this issue. The Rambam in his magnum opus, the Mishneh Torah (Hilchos Me’ila 8:8) writes explicitly that the yesod – the distilled, fundamental, reason to bring korbanos is a חוק – there is no reason to do it other than the fact we were told to. The Moreh Nevuchim explains the inverse of this – once the mitzva exists, there is a spillover effect that we can relate to more, but the underlying reasoning remains a חוק. With this knowledge at hand, of course Noach could bring a korban, and the question about the non-existence of idol-worship falls away. Battling idol worship isn’t why there are korbanos as a starting point, rather, it helps explain it after the fact.

With this knowledge of the Rambam’s true approach to korbanos, we can suggest an answer to the question of why the countering of idol worship would take a similar form, rather than denigrating it, by simply eating all animals regularly, without any sacrifices at all.

Korbanos have their blood sprinkled on the Mizbeach, by a kohen, in the Beis Hamikdash. The Korban Pesach had none of these key functions, so why is it called a korban at all? R’ Moshe Shapiro explains that the key to understanding this issue is that idol worship is not nothing. Paganism and idol worship have a כח הטומאה – they usurp and corrupt spirituality. Eating an animal doesn’t battle the the negative of idol worship, it just nullifies it. The nullification does not require the Beis Hamikdash, or sprinkling of blood by the kohen.  This is why the Pesach could be brought publicly in Egypt. The Rambam in Moreh Nevuchim was saying that all korbanos have this nullifying the negative aspect to which we can relate, but we now see this isn’t the full spectrum of his opinion.

The Ramban then offers a second approach. There is an intrinsic good on man’s part in having korbanos. The idea of a korban is that a person should see the animal as being his substitute, and really, he ought to be sacrificed. The animal takes his place and atones for his sins, and this is the reason to have korbanos.

There is a mighty flaw with this approach too however. Most korbanos are donated, rather than obligated of people, so the Ramban’s approach doesn’t explain the existence of donated korbanos at all.

The Ramban offers a third solution, that is beyond the scope of this site to explain properly. The word קרבן, the root of which is the word קרב, means “closeness”. Offering a korban engenders closeness with Hashem. This is a difficult concept to explain, let alone understand, but to illustrate: we perform mitzvos to emulate Hashem’s ways, but we are not emulating Hashem by bringing korbanos – we are doing something else: we are interacting with Hashem. We are provoking a reaction in Hashem, as the pasuk says; “אשה ריח ניחוח ליהוה” – on which Rashi remarks “נחת רוח לפני, שאמרתי ונעשה רצוני”. This is difficult to illustrate, but there is a difference between doing Hashem’s will, and making it. When we bring a korban, we bring more of Hashem’s will into the world. One could suggest there is an element of creation here.

The Ramban brings a proof from Isaiah 60:7 that says: יַעֲלוּ עַל רָצוֹן מִזְבְּחִי וּבֵית תִּפְאַרְתִּי אֲפָאֵר – the Mizbeach is the expression of Hashem’s will.

So in bringing a korban, a person intentions are going to correlate to how they have extended G-d’s will in the world. This is why there is a concept of pigul, (a lengthy concept regarding what happens in the event that all the actions of a korban were carried out correctly, but someone in the porcess was thinking about something mundane, like the weather. Around 40 pages of Meseches Zevachim are devoted to this) – because the physical animal isn’t what matters – there is a transfer of spirituality here, from potential/theoretical to physical in this world. It’s a very big deal. The improper thoughts mean one can’t interact with what he’s trying to, and the korban has served it’s purpose, as the whole idea is not the physical at all.

So in answer to why we bring korbanos: there is the simple Moreh Nevuchim approach that we are counteracting paganism, the Ramban’s simple approach that we can atone our sins, and the Ramban’s esoteric Kabbalistic approach. We can suggest though, that perhaps the חוק aspect that the Rambam referred to was this third approach, and perhaps all the opinions harmonise together. Admittedly, this doesn’t answer why we bring korbanos, but it does explain what the function of the korban is.

כב. וּבְצַלְאֵל בֶּן אוּרִי בֶן חוּר לְמַטֵּה יְהוּדָה עָשָׂה אֵת כָּל אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶת מֹשֶׁה

‘And Bezalel, son of Uri son of Hur, of the tribe of Yehuda, did all that Hashem commanded Moshe.’ (38:22)

The Torah tells us that Bezalel built the Mishkan according to the word of Hashem. Rashi points out that the Pasuk doesn’t say that Bezalel did what Moshe had commanded him to do, rather, he did what Hashem commanded Moshe on Har Sinai. Bezalel had already figured it all out.

Moshe commanded Bezalel to first build the Kelim (vessels/ furnishings) and then build the Mishkan afterwards. Bezalel says to Moshe that the custom of the world is to first build the house and then the furnishings. Moshe responds that he was right and Hashem had commanded him to first build the Mishkan and then the Kalim. Moshe then says ‘B’zal-al’ you were in Hashem’s shadow. (Gem. Brachos 55a)

All the Achronim ask, how could Moshe forget what was supposed to be done first? Moshe had just taught the Torah in its entirety (the day before, Yom Kippur, was the day he came down with the second Luchos and taught Kol Hatorah Kulah to Klal Yisroel except for the Parsha of the Mishkan since the Mishkan couldn’t be done on Yom Kippur) and now he forgets which was supposed to come first?

One could say that Moshe forgot the Halacha, but it would be very difficult to explain that Moshe forgot such a Pashut Din. We can’t say that Hashem never taught Moshe which one to build first because Moshe says clearly, ‘indeed Hashem commanded me to first build the Mishkan’. So what in the world is going on with this Medrash?

The Or Hachayim answers this question back in Parshas Teruma. The Pasuk says, ‘like all that I show you, the form of the Mishkan and the form of its vessels; and so shall you do. They shall make the Aron etc.’ (25:9)

The Or Hachayim explains (using various Medrashim) that Hashem showed Moshe an image of the Mishkan first, and then all of its vessels afterwards. After showing Moshe the overall blueprint He then went on to explain each one individualy starting with the Aron. So it becomes a bit more understandable that  Moshe was a bit confused about which one should come first as Hashem had showed him the Mishkan first, but when showing him how to build everything, he showed him the Aron first.

What did Hashem want to be built first? Moshe wasn’t entirely clear until Bezalel explained the logic of how Man always builds the house first. With Bezalel’s answer Moshe was able to understand what Hashem wanted to be built first and thus Moshe called Bezalel ‘Bzal-al’. (When Moshe said, ‘indeed Hashem commanded me to first build the Mishan’, he meant now I understand that Hashem truly wanted the Mishkan first)

The Levush Haorah explains this episode in a different way. (First he says anyone who says Moshe didn’t know the Pshat is wrong and doesn’t know anything etc.) He says that Bezalel and all Klal Yisroel were confused in how Moshe was teaching them how to build the Mishkan. In Parshas Terumah, which Moshe taught first, Moshe started by saying the vessels are to be built first (25:9). However, in Parshas Vayakel (35:10) he first says that the Mishkan should be built first. All of Klal Yisroel were listening to Moshe and they were confused, which one did he want first?

At that time Bezalel gets up and asks, ‘Moshe which one do you want us to do first, for it makes sense to build the Mishkan first etc’. Moshe then responds by saying that Bezalel is a great Chacham, one who knew the answer before Moshe had told him. Moshe didn’t forget or was confused, he was teaching and before he taught which one was supposed to be built first Bezalel jumped up and answered. Moshe didn’t do it in a confusing way, rather he was telling Klal Yisroel that the Aron was really supposed to be first because the main reason for the existence of the Mishkan was to bring the Shechina down to this world. The Shechina began with the Aron, meaning the Torah. (This is the pashut answer. If you have time I highly recommend seeing the Maskil Ledavid (one of the 11 commentators on Rashi) and the Gur Arye for other explanations on this piece.)

The parsha begins, “Eleh pekudei hamishkan, mishkan haedus asher pukad al pi Moshe…”. The Medrash refers this pasuk to the pasuk in Mishlei (28:20) “Ish emunos rav brachos”. The Sfas Emes explains that the Ish emunos is Moshe Rabbeinu and what the Medrash is telling us is that although counting something is not a siman brocha when the counting is done by an Ish emunos then brocha will be bestowed on the counted subjects.

The Kli Yakar in the beginning of parshas ki sisa explains the idea behind why one should not count and why counting brings ayin raah. When one counts something he is in essence giving this object its own individual importance, thereby creating additional awareness of it in shamayim. This awakens the debate as to the rights of the object, and all the relevant zechuyos and chovos are judged.

The Sfas Emes this week expounds this idea and with it beautifully explains the Medrash. All the good bestowed upon this world comes from a single higher source and as you distance from the source the good is diminished. From this shoresh hayachid hashmeymi branches out big then smaller and smaller branches, and the smallest furthest branch profits the least from the goodness supplied by those roots. When somebody counts something the individuality and importance that he applies to it separates it further from the source as it now has its own new identity. It is a new branch of its own. Before it was counted it was a part of the bigger branch, closer to the roots. This is why counting usually brings less brocha.

In many places the Sfas Emes explains that the root of the word emunah means connecting the subject back to its real true source. With this the medrash becomes beautifully clear. The medrash is explaining the pasuk as follows. Why does the pasuk mention that the counting was done by Moshe? Read Full Dvar Torah →

On Parshas Shekalim, various shuls have a custom to insert Yotzros, additional prayers and piyutim into the Shabbos davening. A recurring chorus is the phrase “ אור פניך עלינו אדון נשא – ושקל אשא בבית נכון – ונשא” – “The light of Your face, shine on us please, our Master, because I will raise a shekel in your glorified house.”

The question is obvious – the Jews were only ever commanded to give מחצית השקל – a  half-shekel – how does the prayer parallel what actually transpired?

The Gemara in Brachos 20b tells us that the angels queried Hashem regarding a contradiction: it is written that: כִּי ה’ אֱלֹהֵיכֶם הוּא אֱלֹהֵי הָאֱ־לֹהִים וַאֲדֹנֵי הָאֲדֹנִים הָאֵל הַגָּדֹל הַגִּבֹּר וְהַנּוֹרָא אֲשֶׁר לֹא יִשָּׂא פָנִים וְלֹא יִקַּח שֹׁחַד - G-d does not show favour and does not accept bribes (Devarim 10:17), however, elsewhere (the bracha of Brichas Kohanim) it is written  יִשָּׂא ה’ פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם - “G-d will show you favor and give you peace” (Bamidbar 6:26).  Hashem answered them that  he must show favour to the Jews, because in the Torah it says that “וְאָכַלְתָּ וְשָׂבָעְתָּ וּבֵרַכְתָּ אֶת ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ” - “you should eat and be satisfied and bless your G-d” (Devarim 8:10), and yet the Jews recite Birchas Hamazon after a much smaller amount (k’zayis/k’beitzah). If the Jews go lifnim m’shuras haDin – above and beyond the letter of the law, how could Hashem not reciprocate?

The general attitude of a G-d fearing Jew is to perform mitzvos with zeal, and exceed the requirements necessary, as essentially all mitzvos are not defined by a legal quantity. But an exception would be the mitzva of מחצית השקל, regarding which the pasuk says that a rich person may not exceed, and a poor person may not claim his poverty as impeding his ability. How would a Jew possibly go lifnim m’shuras haDin? Read Full Dvar Torah →

In Parsha Pikudei, the phrase “כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ אֶת מֹשֶׁה” appears 18 times, at the end of nearly every set of instructions. It would seem obvious that the construction of the Mishkan would take place as commanded, as the preceding parshiyos make painstakingly clear; so why the additional stress on how the work was carried out?

The Beis Halevi explains that the Mishkan was only required as a tikkun for the Eigel HaZahav (Golden Calf) – it was not required prior to then. If the Mishkan was to restore the status quo, it would have to be the polar opposite of the problem it was intended to solve. The Beis Halevi explains that what caused the Eigel was the people’s own ideas about how best to serve Hashem, and this led them to the conclusion they reached, which was decidedly not as they were commanded. As such, at every suitable juncture, the Torah sees fit to emphasise “כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ אֶת מֹשֶׁה“, – the reason the people did everything they did was for no reason whatsoever – other than that Hashem had instructed them.

The Ohr HaChayim asks a similar question to the Beis Halevi – the pasuk says “כָּל אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה” – rather than the regular “כַּאֲשֶׁר” in the other psukim – in three contexts ie 38:22, 39:42 and 40:16. What is the significance of this specific phrase, that the Torah differentiates between the standard “כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה“?

He explains that the people’s spontaneous actions at the Eigel, there were three problematic issues: the thought, speech, and actions, without which the incident would not have occurred. In transgressing just one of the three, a person was responsible for denying the entire Torah, let alone all three. The antidote to the Eigel would have to be a fusion of thought, speech and action together, which the Mishkan was.

If I may be so bold, I would like to suggest a thought I had after learning the Ohr HaChayim’s pshat.

The phrase כָּל אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה appears in three contexts – with regard to the planners, the workers, and Moshe:

-וּבְצַלְאֵל בֶּן אוּרִי בֶן חוּר לְמַטֵּה יְהוּדָה עָשָׂה אֵת כָּל אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ אֶת מֹשֶׁה – Bezalel, son of Uri, son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, had made all that the Lord had commanded Moshe (38:22)

-כְּכֹל אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ אֶת מֹשֶׁה כֵּן עָשׂוּ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֵת כָּל הָעֲבֹדָה – In accordance with all that the Lord had commanded Moshe, so did the children of Israel do all the work. (39:42)

-וַיַּעַשׂ מֹשֶׁה כְּכֹל אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ אֹתוֹ כֵּן עָשָׂה – Thus Moshe did; according to all that the Lord had commanded him, so he did. (40:16)

I was bothered by the Ohr HaChayim’s explanation that the Mishkan counteracted the thought, speech and action that led to the Eigel. The pasuk would have to reflect it, and it appears not to – all the above psukim simply refer to actions – וַיַּעַשׂ , כֵּן עָשׂוּ , עָשָׂה . This is problematic as how can we explain now that these psukim reflect a counteraction of the components of the Eigel? Where is thought and speech reflected?

The thought behind the Eigel would be atoned for by ignoring the underlying wisdom of the work done (possibly the Beis Halevi’s pshat). The plans and architecture of the Mishkan were drawn up by Bezalel – about whom Chazal attribute the ability to see the construct of the entire creation down to the Aleph-Beis that composes it. He understood the plans of the Mishkan – but he did not do it because he understood it to be correct, he did it because Hashem told Moshe.

The action behind the Eigel can also be counteracted. The wholde idea of Parshas Shekalim, as the Nesivos Shalom explains, is that in donating to the Mishkan (the Machatzis HaShekel, rare metals and precious stones), they collectively bought into the project as a whole, thus atoning for the actions behind the Eigel.

We must now somehow say that the speech that led to the Eigel would be atoned for by Moshe’s speech for this to work. If we analyse the portion of the Torah portion in which 40:16 appears, we will find:

וַיְדַבֵּר ה’ אֶל מֹשֶׁה לֵּאמֹר – And the Lord said to Moshe, to say. (40:1)

בְּיוֹם הַחֹדֶשׁ הָרִאשׁוֹן בְּאֶחָד לַחֹדֶשׁ תָּקִים אֶת מִשְׁכַּן אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד – “On the day of the first month, on the first of the month, you shall set up the Mishkan of the Tent of Meeting.” (40:2)

This fits beautifully. The speech of the Eigel was the speech that initiated the incident. This is counteracted by Moshe speaking to initiate the construction of the Mishkan!

The opening pasuk in Parshas Vayakhel reads:

וַיַּקְהֵל מֹשֶׁה אֶת כָּל עֲדַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה’ לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָם’ – Moses gathered the whole community of the children of Israel to assemble, and he said to them: “These are the things that the Lord commanded to do” (35:1)

The Nesivos Shalom points out how this is the sole instance where וַיַּקְהֵל is the first act in an episode, not a speech or instruction. What is the significance of gathering everyone?

Furthermore, this episode occurred directly after the Golden Calf, as Rashi notes that Vayakhel occurred the morning after Yom Kippur, when Moshe returned with the second luchos. It is likely that his first public appearance upon his return would include a notable message to the people regarding the bridge between G-d’s wrath and appeasement. What was said or done that addressed their sin?

The Noam Elimelech explains that the duty to perform a mitzvah stems from the way in which it was given – to the entire nation. A corollary is that when a person sins, it stems from a desire to break apart from the nation, albeit momentarily. But a person who has sinned can still perform a mitzvah, by rejoining the people. The reason that the tzibbur, the collective, is safe is from the Yetzer Hara is simply that an individual does not stand out in a crowd.

Moshe argued that the Golden Calf should be attributed to rogue individuals, rather than the entire nation. As explained by the Noam Elimelech, what motivates sin, is a desire to act as an individual – as such, how could the nation be held accountable, regardless of how many had indeed sinned?

So Moshe pleaded on their collective behalf, and Hashem relented to Moshe’s prayers. On his return, the very first action he takes is וַיַּקְהֵל – he gathers the individuals into the collective tzibbur he had interceded on behalf of. Hashem’s wrath had been assuaged, and through וַיַּקְהֵל. This is what makes וַיַּקְהֵל unique – it is the introduction of the concept of כח הצבור – a team greater than the sum of its parts.

This has many parallels to the underlying concepts of all actions requiring a minyan.

Moshe told them laws Hashem transmitted לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָם – “to make/do them” – but the instructions are about Shabbos; not to light fire, and not to work. How is not doing something called לַעֲשֹׂת – to do?

The Nesivos Shalom reads this back into the pasuk, that לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָם isn’t discussing Shabbos at all. G-d’s command to Moshe was לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָם – to make them, the Jews, into a collective – וַיַּקְהֵל.

This is why the two mitzvos instructed post-Eigel were to keep Shabbos and build a Mishkan – both are incumbent on the nation as a collective, incontrast to lulav, tefila, tzitzis. The Midrash in Bereishis Rabba says “שאמרה הק”בה לשבת – כנסת ישראל בן זבוגך” – Hashem said to Shabbos: “The כנסת ישראל is your pre-ordained”. כנסת ישראל is the Jewish national consciousness, a supersoul, a multitude that becomes a single unit.

The collective mitzva is the tikkun – the rectification – for the rash actions of the thousands of individuals.

The Mishkan rectified the sin of the Golden Calf in a similar vein, in that every individual was required to make donation – were several wealthy individuals to fund the entire Mishkan project on their own, the Mishkan would not have served it’s purpose. The construction bound the people together, and is quite reasonable to suggest that their donation purchased a small share in the Mishkan.

The following are other examples of this concept:

- We can develop this idea further, and attribute the collective/individual argument to the incident with the spies, that resulted in the 40 year wandering in the desert, and the whole generation dying out. The Torah in Parshas Shelach elaborates that all the spies were leaders of their respective tribes; indeed, they were the representatives of the people, and this is why they were sent. This could not be repaired, as apart from being the people’s representatives, the people were the ones who sent them, as it says: שְׁלַח לְךָ אֲנָשִׁים – send for yourself (13:2). The people could not be absolved of this.

- Furthermore, we can say the same of Korach. His Weltanschauung – his worldview – stemmed from the ideology that every individual had unlimited freedoms, and everyone could aspire to the same greatness – he said that “כולם קדושים” – that each individual alone could achieve this, and not that the nation itself was the source of the קדושה. His reasoning was that the nation was formed of individuals, and that nothing was to be gained from unity. Korach’s denial of the power of the tzibbur precluded Moshe’s prayers from helping him, and he was absorbed into the land.

- The same can be said of Purim, that Haman challenged the idea of Jews as a nation, and the solution in Esther 8:11 was לְהִקָּהֵל וְלַעֲמֹד עַל-נַפְשָׁם – to gather and stand for their lives. This is a direct parallel to the Eigel, wherein here too the people faltered and attended Achashverosh’s feast, which set the whole story into motion. Only through the tzibbur could they find redemption.

- The theme keeps recurring, with Pesach too. The Korban Pesach can only be eaten as part of a חבורה – a group. This was the mitzva through which the people were saved – they were at the lowest rung of the 49 levels of impurity, and this could only be remedied by the כח הצבור – and this unity carried them through Yetzias Mitzrayim, the Yam Suf, and Har Sinai, as Rashi quotes a famous Mechilta that says they encamped כאיש אחד בלב אחד – as if they were one man, with one heart, the perfect metaphor for perfect unity.

- We refer to Hashem as our father, but He is not physically our father, rather, He is conceptually our father. If we choose to be part of His people, then He is indeed our father, but if, Heaven forbid, one does not perceive himself to be part of the people, how can he lay claim to Hashem being his father? We say in the Amida every day: ברכנו אבינו כולנו כאחד באור פניך – the Nesivos Shalom explains that when we are כולנו כאחד, only then will we see ברכנו אבינו.

Parshas Tetzaveh is an anomaly in the Torah. It is the only parsha in the narrative of the Jews of that time in which Moshe Rabbeinu’s name does not appear at all, from his birth until the end of the Torah (barring certain parts of Devarim, where he was the person speaking).

The Ba’al HaTurim comments on the first pasuk in Tetzaveh (27:20) that in Parshas Ki Sisa, after seeing the Golden Calf and subsequently Hashem’s wrath through the plague, Moshe pleaded that “ וְעַתָּה אִם תִּשָּׂא חַטָּאתָם וְאִם אַיִן מְחֵנִי נָא מִסִּפְרְךָ אֲשֶׁר כָּתָבְתָּ – And now, if You forgive their sin But if not, erase me now from Your book, which You have written.” (32:32). The Ba’al HaTurim explains that although Hashem did indeed refrain from destroying the nation, a tzaddik’s word is always fulfilled.

The parsha in which Moshe’s name does not appear is about the kehuna, the priesthood, which was given to Ahron. R’ Yakov Minkus explains that there are 2 ways for Torah (representing Heaven) and mankind (representing Earth) to intersect:

1. The first way is that the Torah descends from Heaven. Moshe embodied this, as exemplified when he brought down the luchos from the mountain to the people.
2. The second is that we elevate become elevated ourselves. Ahron embodied this, as the ultimate “people’s person”. He was אוהב שלום ורודף שלום – a lover and pursuer of peace. The entire priesthood was based on helping the people interact with Hashem through the services.

The Gemara in Sanhedrin concludes that there are two ways to settle litigation, through din emes (an actual judgement), or a pshara (a compromise). The fact that both are valid settlements shows that both are equally powerful at achieving their goal, settling a dispute.

The role of the kohen is to play the arbiter, the middle man. As a man of the people, he is meant to feel their emotions, guide them through the services in the Beis HaMikdash, and follow the path that Ahron set.

If we are to say that this way of getting to the intersection of people and Torah is equally valid, Moshe almost had to be left out, to show that here is another, equally valid way.

There are various incidents in the Torah where Ahron and Moshe are mentioned, with Ahron preceding Moshe, as opposed to the usual Moshe first, and Ahron second. This is meant to show their equality. But as pointed out in many places, Moshe was the greatest man to have ever lived, without equal, so to what ends can we suggest their equality?

Knowing what we now know, the answer is simple. Their equality was not as people, as indeed Moshe was without equal, but rather, their equality was in the validity of their approaches in how to get the Torah to the people.

There were four keilim that were kept inside the Mishkan – the Shulchan (table), the Aron (Ark), the Mizbeach (altar) and the Menora.

וְצִפִּיתָ אֹתוֹ זָהָב טָהוֹר מִבַּיִת וּמִחוּץ תְּצַפֶּנּוּ וְעָשִׂיתָ עָלָיו זֵר זָהָב סָבִיב – And you shall overlay it with pure gold; from inside and from outside you shall overlay it, and you shall make upon it a golden crown all around. (25:11) – Aron

וְצִפִּיתָ אֹתוֹ זָהָב טָהוֹר וְעָשִׂיתָ לּוֹ זֵר זָהָב סָבִיב – And you shall overlay it with pure gold, and you shall make for it a golden crown all around. (25:24) – Shulchan

וְצִפִּיתָ אֹתוֹ זָהָב טָהוֹר אֶת גַּגּוֹ וְאֶת קִירֹתָיו סָבִיב וְאֶת קַרְנֹתָיו וְעָשִׂיתָ לּוֹ זֵר זָהָב סָבִיב - You shall overlay it with pure gold, its top, its walls all around, and its horns; and you shall make for it a golden crown all around. (30:3) – Mizbeach

The  Aron, Shulchan, and Mizbeach all had “crowns”, a gold design that bordered their edges, whereas the Menora is the odd one out, it had no crowns. What is the cause of this discrepancy? Read Full Dvar Torah →

In Parshas Teruma we are instructed regarding the construction of the Aron (Ark). The Torah tells us that it should be covered from inside and out with gold ‘מבית ומחוץ תצפנו’ Rashi on the pasuk (25:11) explains, in accordance with the Gemara, that three separate boxes were made – a central wooden box, and inner and outer golden boxes. Rashi says that they put the wooden box into the larger golden box and then the smaller golden box inside of it.

The pasuk says they covered the inside of the box first, and only then the outside, whereas Rashi first says that they covered the outside first, and worked their way inwards. Why does Rashi change the order of the pasuk? Read Full Dvar Torah →

The pasuk says דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִקְחוּ לִי תְּרוּמָה מֵאֵת כָּל אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר יִדְּבֶנּוּ לִבּוֹ תִּקְחוּ אֶת תְּרוּמָתִי – Speak to the children of Israel, and have them take to Me an offering; from every person whose heart inspires him to generosity, you shall take My offering. (25:2)

The Midrash says that this pasuk is the same as the pasuk in Mishlei 4:2 כִּי לֶקַח טוֹב, נָתַתִּי לָכֶם; תּוֹרָתִי, אַל-תַּעֲזֹבוּ – For I gave you good teaching; forsake not My instruction.

The Midrash explains that this means that when we were given the Torah, Hashem was included as part of the deal, as it were. There is a parable here to which we can relate.

A powerful king had an only child, the princess. Read Full Dvar Torah →

Why does Parshas Mishpatim begin with the laws of an עֶבֶד עִבְרִי – a Hebrew servant? What is the significance of this topic that marks it out as the first of the laws after receiving the Torah?

The Gemara in Bava Metzia 10a introduces a key concept to Jewish law; that a hired worker can stop in the middle of the job for whatever reason he chooses, so long as he compensates the lost labour, ensures a replacement etc. He cannot be made to work. This is in contrast to an עֶבֶד  who is a slave, and is bound to his work.

The psukim say: כִּי תִקְנֶה עֶבֶד עִבְרִי שֵׁשׁ שָׁנִים יַעֲבֹד וּבַשְּׁבִעִת יֵצֵא לַחָפְשִׁי חִנָּם - Should you buy a Hebrew servant, he shall work [for] six years, and in the seventh [year], he shall go out to freedom without charge. (21:2)

וְאִם אָמֹר יֹאמַר הָעֶבֶד אָהַבְתִּי אֶת אֲדֹנִי אֶת אִשְׁתִּי וְאֶת בָּנָי לֹא אֵצֵא חָפְשִׁי – But if the slave says, “I love my master, my wife, and my children. I will not go free,” (2:5)

וְהִגִּישׁוֹ אֲדֹנָיו אֶל הָאֱ־לֹהִים וְהִגִּישׁוֹ אֶל הַדֶּלֶת אוֹ אֶל הַמְּזוּזָה וְרָצַע אֲדֹנָיו אֶת אָזְנוֹ בַּמַּרְצֵעַ וַעֲבָדוֹ לְעֹלָם – his master shall bring him to the judges, and he shall bring him to the door or to the doorpost, and his master shall pierce his ear with an awl, and he shall serve him forever. (2:6)

There is a basic rule in the Gemara that the term “עֶבֶד” alone demarks a Canaanite, a slave, which is a permanent service, whereas an עֶבֶד עִבְרִי is a temporary status, which is why it must be specified.  My rebbi pointed out to me that when he begins his service (21:2), he is an עֶבֶד עִבְרִי whereas after the allotted time has passed at which he is meant to go free, should he remain to say, he has become an עֶבֶד – a slave, with no עִבְרִי – the Jew has become a Canaanite slave. Although this is not halachically accurate, this is certainly hashkafically accurate.

But what has he done that is so reprehensible, that he is pierced, a form of branding of property? Read Full Dvar Torah →

The Rambam states in that there are three distinct types of unintentional killers:

1.) One who kills b’shgagah. This is defined as the state of mind possessed by one whose act is completely unforeseen. This category is referred to states in Sh’mos 21:12: v’asher lo tzadahwho did not lie in ambush. The punishment that applies to such a person is galus, whereby he is exiled to one of the arei miklot in order to receive a kaparah for his actions and to find refuge from the goel hadam who would not be penalized for exacting vengeance.

2.) One who kills b’shgagah korov l’oness, which describes the mental state of one who could not only not foresee the death as an outcome of his actions, but the killing was a wonderment which would not have occurred in the same circumstances in the majority of cases. This person is exempt from galus and if the goel hadam were to kill him, the avenger would be sentenced to death by the beis din.

3.) One who kills b’shgagah karovah l’zadon. This pertains to a person who acted with an attitude of wanton recklessness. His sin is considered too great for galus, he is prevented from receiving a kaparah and is not afforded any protection from the goel hadam, who is permitted to exact retribution without fear of capital punishment.

There exists a fundamental condition attached to the law of the pure shogeg (category 1), as taught by the Mishnah in Makkos 6b. The general rule is that if this type of unintentional killer was travelling in a downward direction at the time when the cause of death was set in motion, he is liable to be sent to galus since such an action is deemed to have been committed b’shogeg. However, if the offender was not descending at this time, he is exempt from galus. The Mishnah exemplifies this principle with several scenarios, one of which is involves a man who was climbing down a ladder when a rung broke causing him to fall on top of the victim below, who perished as a result. This is considered to be a case of shogeg and the defendant is sentenced to galus. However, if the killer was ascending when he slipped and fell he is exempt. The Gemara explains that the reason for this distinction is the verse in Bamidbar 35, where the Torah states that an inadvertent killer who is liable for galus is one who, ‘V’yapeil alav v’yamus’And he fell on him and he died. Chazal expound this phrase to teach that the killer must be moving in a downward direction in a derech nefillah (the way of falling) in order to be liable for galus.

The Rambam provides a rationale for the Torah’s distinction between descent and ascent. He submits that the reason why the one who was ascending the ladder is exempt is because it is as if he were coerced, thus falling under category 2. Indeed, in most cases, that fatal outcome would not have occurred. Therefore, the killer’s culpability is beneath the threshold required for the punishment of galus.

In contrast, if the killer was descending the ladder at the crucial moment, the Rambam reasons that in such a case there is a greater risk of injuring others because it is a rule of nature that weight is pulled in a downward direction with rapidity. (It is interesting to note that the Rambam, writing approximately 200 years before Newton, was not that far away from the theory of gravity!) Therefore, if someone did not take proper care at the time of his descent, he will be liable to galus.

What is the correct perspective in terms of defining the culpability of one who kills b’shogeg? We have learnt that such behaviour is sufficient to deserve galus; however, galus is more of a refuge and a kaparah zone, rather than a brutal onesh. Moreover, the Rambam describes the shogeg mindset as totally blind to the outcome of his actions. Nonetheless, there appears to be some level of criminal negligence and blameworthiness associated with a shogeg. We are left with the question, what proportion of blame may be attributed to one who kills b’shogeg, requiring a kaparah, and to what extent is the death the result of Divine intervention?

Perhaps the answer can be found in Parashas Mishpatim, 21:12-13, wherein the Torah declares that, ‘makeh ish va’meis mos yumas; v’asher lo tzadah v’ho’elokim inah l’yado v’samti l’cha makom asher yanus shamah.’ – ‘One who strikes a man and he will die, he (the killer) shall be put to death; and if he did not lie in ambush and God placed it in his hand and I shall place for you a place to where he may flee’.

As Rashi interprets, the pasuk is referring to the laws pertaining to intentional and inadvertent killing; the one who murders deliberately receives the death penalty, whereas the individual who did not intend to kill is exiled. Philosophically, a most striking element within the verse is that we are being taught that Hashem arranges for such inadvertent killings to take place. Onkelos translates inah as it’m’sar, to transmit or to hand over, while Rashi writes that it is an expression akin to zaman, to invite or summon (this is an example of a word in lashon hakodesh upon which the English equivalent is based). This demonstrates that, at times, G-d deliberately causes a person’s death via human agency.

To explain this notion, Rashi cites a Medrash that depicts a saying of David HaMelech. The Medrash reports that the monarch stated that the Torah tells us ‘m’rashaim yeitzei resha’- from evil-doers comes out evil. Where does the Torah convey this? From our posuk: ‘v’ho’elokim inah l’yado’, which refers to a situation involving two people, one who killed inadvertantly and one who killed on purpose. However, in both cases there were no witnesses to enable the prosecution of either offender. Consequently, the unintentional killer was not ordered to go to galus and the murderer did not receive the death penalty. The Medrash, quoted by Rashi, continues by teaching that, in such a case, Divine intervention may arrange for these two killers to arrive at the same public house. The one who killed deliberately ends up sitting below a ladder and the inadvertent killer climbs up the ladder and subsequently falls on top of the killer beneath him with fatal consequences. Conveniently, on this occasion there were witnesses, thus enabling the beis din to send the shogeg to galus, which he was liable for anyway, while the intentional killer has already received his just deserts.

The glaring question is, how can Rashi quote the Medrash as teaching that the shogeg was climbing up the ladder (oleh ba’sulam) before he fell onto the person below. Surely it is the clear ruling of the aforementioned Mishnah in Makkos that in such a case, the individual is in fact exempt from galus. This problem is compounded by the actual reading of this Mechilta, as quoted in the Gemara in Makkos 10b. There, the text reads that the shogeg killer was descending the ladder (yored b’sulom) at the time of his fall. In that case, with what licence did Rashi not only alter the text of this Medrash, but give a misrepresentation of the correct halachah? This cannot be a simple mistake for we are dealing with Rashi, who the Meiri dubs greatest of the commentators.

The Sifsei Chachomim and the Mizrachi both opt for a rather ‘lav davka’ approach to resolve this conundrum by concluding that of course Rashi meant that when the killer fell he was moving downwards. Rashi merely refers to the fact that the shogeg went up the ladder so that it was possible for him to descend before falling. This may be true but it remains perplexing as to why Rashi so conspicuously deviates from the text of the Medrash as quoted by the Gemara and thereby risk halachically misleading the reader.

Enter the Maharal in his opus, Gur Aryeh. He contends that the sole message of the Medrash was to convey the extent of Divine intervention into human affairs. Therefore, Rashi deliberately changed the text in order to emphasize that the man’s ascent up the ladder was not the result of his own free choice, but rather, was entirely engineered by the Celestial chess player. The descent down the ladder however, was not the outcome of Divine programming and is thus irrelevant to the Medrash’s agenda. This approach not only absolves Rashi, but provides a scintillating insight into the Yad Hashem which clandestinely arranges earthly goings on in order to bring out justice and retribution.

Furthermore, this yesod assists us in our inquiry as to the correct understanding of the shogeg killer. This person is certainly subject to the Divine master plan, who leads him up the ladder. Nonetheless, the act of killing must contain an element of moral blameworthiness and G-d does not force you to sin under duress. It is within this person’s bechirah to be watchful of his actions, as it is axiomatic that he would not be exiled without deserving it. Thus, his descent must have been the result of his autonomous free will. These insights not only alert us to the penetrating truths of our holy Torah, but reveal extent of Hashem’s awesome jurisdiction over our existence.

.י: וַיֹּאמֶר יִתְרוֹ בָּרוּךְ יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֲשֶׁר הִצִּיל אֶתְכֶם מִיַּד מִצְרַיִם וּמִיַּד פַּרְעֹה אֲשֶׁר הִצִּיל אֶת הָעָם מִתַּחַת יַד מִצְרָיִם  :

10. [Thereupon,] Jethro said, “Blessed is the Lord, Who has rescued you from the hands of the Egyptians and from the hand of Pharaoh, Who has rescued the people from beneath the hand of the Egyptians.

יא: עַתָּה יָדַעְתִּי כִּי גָדוֹל יְ־הֹוָ־ה מִכָּל הָאֱ־לֹהִים כִּי בַדָּבָר אֲשֶׁר זָדוּ עֲלֵיהֶם:
11. Now I know that the Lord is greater than all the deities, for with the thing that they plotted, [He came] upon them.” (18:10-11)

What is it that he now knew?

There is a well-known Midrash that Pharaoh had 3 advisers during the episode of the Jews slavery in Egypt – Bilam, Iyov (Job), and Yisro. When Pharaoh sought to annihilate the Jews by drowning the Jewish boys in the river Nile, Bilam supported this and Iyov abstained, whereas Yisro advised against this and subsequently had to flee to Midyan to escape Pharaoh’s clutches.

With regard to our question, (what did Yisro ‘now’ know) I heard a fabulous explanation on a pshat level. What he now knew was Hashem’s system of hashgacha – oversight – the system of midda k’neged mida, measure for measure.

Pharaoh had sought to destroy the Jews by drowning them, and the reverse had happened to him and the entire Egyptian army.

. יא: עַתָּה יָדַעְתִּי כִּי גָדוֹל יְ־הֹוָ־ה מִכָּל הָאֱ־לֹהִים כִּי בַדָּבָר אֲשֶׁר זָדוּ עֲלֵיהֶם
11. Now I know that the Lord is greater than all the deities, for with the thing that they plotted, [He came] upon them.” (18: 11)

So now he saw that Hashem delivers justice, he realized that he was in a bad situation. Although he had fled Pharaoh when it became clear that official Egyptian policy was genocide, what had he done up until that point? The entire enslavement episode occurred whilst he was in Pharaoh’s cabinet government, and what had he advised then? Nothing in the Jews favor, as it was only when he did that he had to flee. So Yisro realized he had erred and required a tikkun, a solution, to achieve teshuva, repentance.

His solution to the bad advice he had given was to offer good advice.

‘13. It came about on the next day that Moses sat down to judge the people, and the people stood before Moses from the morning until the evening.’ (18:13) – after which he offered the solution of having elders judge as well, solving the inefficiency of the judicial system in the state it was in.

א: וְאֵלֶּה הַמִּשְׁפָּטִים אֲשֶׁר תָּשִׂים לִפְנֵיהֶם

1. And these are the ordinances that you shall set before them (21:1)

The Yalkut Shemoni in the beginning of this week’s Parsha quotes Rav Alechsandri who gives a parable for this week’s Parsha. Two men, who hate each other, are leading their donkeys who are carrying large loads, along the way. One donkey stops walking, and crouches down, (for its load was too heavy) while the other (man and donkey) passes him by. The one who passes says, ”It’s written in the Torah (23:5), ‘Perhaps you will see the donkey of someone you hate lying under its burden, will you refrain from helping him?’ Immediately, the man returns and helps his brother unload his donkey. The man who is being helped thinks to himself how a moment ago they hated each other and now he is helping him! It must be that they aren’t really enemies at all! They then make peace with each other and all hatred is lost.

This is the meaning to ‘And these are the judgments’. Hashem knows what is moral and ethical, and what it takes to make this world a better place. We just have to do and learn His mitzvos and the rest will fall into place on its own.

There are a lot of different mitzvos in this week’s Parsha, so choosing one was very difficult, but here goes.

‘When you will lend money to my people, to the poor person who is with you, do not act towards him as a creditor; do not place interest upon him. If you will take your fellow’s garment as security, until the sun sets you shall have returned it to him. For it alone is his covering, it is his garment for his skin; in what will he lie down? So it will be that if he cries out to me, I shall listen, for I am compassionate’. (22:24-26)

Here the Torah teaches us three mitzvos. To lend money to poor people, not to act as a creditor when you know he has nothing to pay you with, and not to lend money with interest. The Kli Yakar points out that we refer to this pauper with three different names. In the beginning we call him in the name of ‘my people’, then we call him ‘the poor person who is with you’, then lastly we say ‘your fellow’s garment’. Why do we change his name and not just refer his to the poor person the entire time? Answers the Kli Yakar that the Torah was telling us three reasons why we are required to lend money to a poor person.

1.  Since he is part of ‘my people’, that is Hashem’s people. Hashem is the King and whoever gives money and food to the King’s men has a guarantee that the King will pay him back. Thus the Pasuk, ‘Malveh Hashem Chonain Dal’, that he who gives to poor people is considered as if he lent to Hashem.

2. The Gemara relates how Turnus Rufus asked R’ Akiva that if Hashem loves us so much why does our nation have poor people? R’ Akiva answered that it’s so that we can give Tzedakah which will save us from the Din of Gehinnom (hell) (See Gemara Bava Basra 10a for the rest of the discussion). If Tzedakah is so powerful that it could even save a person from the Din of Gehinnom then we see that the poor person does a lot more than the giver. The giver gives money (i.e. Olam Hazeh – this world) for only a small part of this poor person’s life, whereas the poor person gives this giver Olam Haba – the world to come – which is an immeasurable reward. Therefore the Torah’s second lashon of this pauper was, ‘to the poor person with you’. Why was this person poor? So that you could give Tzedakah and go to Olam Haba. Thus he is ‘with you’, meaning this poor person is here for your merit.

The Kli Yakar says that with these two reasons, we can now understand the next two mitzvos in the Torah.

Why should one not act like a creditor towards the pauper? We use reason number one, that since a person should be secure that Hashem is going to pay him back for that which he lent, he must then not act like a creditor thus proving he doesn’t believe Hashem is going to end up paying him back.

Why can a person not take interest for his loans? We use reason number two, that the poor person already gave him a pass through the Din of Gehinnom and now this person wants to make even more money from his loan? He is poor to help you become righteous, and you want to take advantage of him by making more money?

3. If we are dealing with a person who lacks faith that Hashem will pay him back and will therefore ask for a collateral, the end result that he will be will be borrowing his ‘fellow’s garment’. Meaning that he will be this poor man’s ‘friend’ in poverty. So what does Hashem say to this person? ‘If you stray off the straight path you can always come back.’ Give the man back his cloak before ‘the sun sets’.

There is a valuable lesson to be learned from the Mitzvos commanded in this week’s Parsha.

The Mishna in Pirkei Avos says: אם אין תורה, אין דרך ארץ; אם אין דרך ארץ, אין תורה – without Derech Eretz there can be no Torah, and without Torah there can be no Derech Eretz.

Rabbeinu Yonah explains that the first time there is a reference to Derech Eretz it means the basic and essential practices that anyone must be in possession of in order to learn Torah. This is the meaning that most people recognize today.

But the second time Derech Eretz is referenced it means a new kind of Derech Eretz. One that is rooted and sourced in Torah alone, about which we say “without Torah there is no Derech Eretz”.

What is the Derech Eretz of Torah? R’ Elya Lopian brings two example from our Parsha:

Within the laws regarding an עבד עברי – a Jewish servant – there is an obligation on the master’s part to address all the servant’s needs in the same regard that he would address his own needs. This is exemplified in a classic case: if there were only one mattress in a household, the servant would take precedence over the master. This is what the גמרא  in Kiddushin means when it says ‘קנה לו עבד עברי קנה אדון לעצמו’ – ‘one who acquires a servant has acquired a master over himself’.

With regard to ourselves, if one were to enter a house and saw two people sleeping, one on a mattress and one the floor, a sensible person would surely understand that the person asleep on the mattress is the master and the person sleeping on the cold, hard floor is the servant.

The Torah teaches us that this is not so, that the reverse is true. The master is obligated to give his sole mattress to the servant. It must be pointed out who exactly an עבד עברי is. This is a degenerate man who has brought himself into the situation he is in, he has robbed and stolen, and being unable to return his ill-gotten gains, has had sell himself to pay back his debts. For this man we are obligated to give up our beds.

R’ Elya Lopian explains that such Derech Eretz is uniquely a Torah sourced Derech Eretz. No other wisdom would generate such ethics for such a man.

The second example is:

ח:  אִם רָעָה בְּעֵינֵי אֲדֹנֶיהָ אֲשֶׁר [לא] לוֹ יְעָדָהּ וְהֶפְדָּהּ לְעַם נָכְרִי לֹא יִמְשֹׁל לְמָכְרָהּ בְּבִגְדוֹ בָהּ

ט: וְאִם לִבְנוֹ יִיעָדֶנָּה כְּמִשְׁפַּט הַבָּנוֹת יַעֲשֶׂה לָּהּ

8. If she is displeasing to her master, who did not designate her [for himself], then he shall enable her to be redeemed; he shall not rule over her to sell her to another person, when he betrays her. 9. And if he designates her for his son, he shall deal with her according to the law of the daughters [of Israel]. (21:8-9)

Rashi explains that it not only instructs the master to marry her, or let his sons marry her, but its actually a commandment – a mitzvah.

אשר לא יעדה: שהיה לו ליעדה ולהכניסה לו לאשה, וכסף קנייתה הוא כסף קידושיה. כאן רמז לך הכתוב שמצוה ביעוד ורמז לך שאינה צריכה קדושין אחרים

Who had not designated her as his wife: that he should have designated her and should have married her. The money used for her purchase serves as the “money” for executing the marriage. Here the Torah implies that it is a mitzvah for him to marry her. It [also] indicates to you that she requires no other marriage ritual.

The Jewish maidservant refers to the daughter of a man who has sunk from depth to new depth, and ended up in the terrible situation of having to sell his daughter as a maidservant as he can not afford to support her or whatever the reason. Specifically regarding this מיוחסת – “girl of such “noble” descent” – does the Torah instruct the man, who may really be of noble descent, to marry this girl or allow his sons to?

To what degree are we instructed to do so?

R’ Elya Lopian explains further: This girls’ world has been destroyed, and she is in turmoil and despair. She has been sold into slavery by her own father, and has no hope of finding the man she is to marry the way other Jewish girls would do. Therefore the Torah worries for her despair, and so obligates the master to rescue her from the danger that she has for the rest of her days, and marry her.

No cultural or academic pursuits would point one in these directions and draw these conclusions. You won’t find similar ethics elsewhere, only Hashem’s Torah could produce them. This is the “Derech Eretz of Torah”.

ה. וַיְהִי בִישֻׁרוּן מֶלֶךְ בְּהִתְאַסֵּף רָאשֵׁי עָם יַחַד שִׁבְטֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל

5. And He was King in Jeshurun, whenever the sum total of the people were gathered, and the tribes of Israel were together (Devarim 33:5)

This Pasuk teaches us that Moshe was appointed King of Yisroel, ‘בְּהִתְאַסֵּף רָאשֵׁי עָם’, after the Torah was given on Har Sinai.

In the Parsha this week, Yisro comes to Klal Yisroel in order to convert, slaughters a certain offering to Hashem, and makes a lavish feast. Rashi (18:12) says that Moshe didn’t sit and eat during the feast, rather he stood and served everyone.

The Meshech Chachmah asks, how was Moshe able to be forgo his honor by serving the guests? A Rav or Nassi can forgo their honor, but a King can never forgo their honor (see Kedushin 32b)? He answers that there is a Machlokes Tannaim in regards to when Yisro came to Klal Yisroel. One says before Matan Torah and one says after (could even be after the Hashkamas Hamishkan). If Yisro came before Matan Torah then we don’t even have a question because Moshe was only King after Matan Torah. But, if we say Yisro came after Matan Torah then our question stands and how was Moshe able to be Mochel his kovod? Thus the Meshech Chachmah has to answer that according to the one who holds Yisro came after Matan Torah, then the aforementioned Rashi doesn’t exist, that Moshe never served during the meal and he really sat and enjoyed like a King.

The Meam Loez gives a different answer. Gem. Sota 31b says that Agripas Hamelech used to read the Torah on Hakel standing up in the Bais Hamikdosh. Everyone knows that the King is allowed to sit, but Agripas would still stand. The Chachamim said that Agripas was absolutely right and righteous for standing in the Bais Hamikdosh. The Gemerah asks, but Agripas was a King, so how did he forgo his honor? The Gemarah answers that a Mitzvah is different. Meaning that since a Mitzvah was being done (Hakel) Agripas was able to forgo his honor for the sake of doing a mitzvah. Tosofos there asks that we know a King can’t be Mochel his Kovod from a Gem. in Kedushin 32b. There it retells the story how Rav Gamliel (a Nassi) served his guests at a certain Seudas Mitzvah. The Gemarah asks, how can he be Mochel? In which it answers a Nassi can be Mochel his Kovod and that only a King cannot be Mochel. There the Gemarah was dealing with serving his guests at a seudas mitzvah and the Gemarah says that a Nassi can be Mochel, but a King, even by a Seudas Mitzvah, isn’t allowed to be Mochel. So what is the Gemarah’s answer that a King can be Mochel his Kovod if he is doing a mitzvah if the Gemarah in Kiddushin clearly doesn’t hold that way? Tosofos answers that to accomplish a regular mitzvah the King wouldn’t be able to be Mochel his Kovod, whereas a mitzvah which involves the Shechina to come a King could be mochel. Therefore Agripas was able to stand up in the Bais Hamikdosh for the Shechina was there.

The very next Rashi in the aforementioned pasuk 18:12 says that when you eat at a meal with talmidei chachamim its as if you benefited from the ”Ziv Hashchina” (Maharsha says for Torah will be discussed at such a meal. For another reason see Gur Aryeh). Now we have a pashut answer. The meal Moshe was serving was a meal hosting many Talmidei Chachamim. Thus the Shechina was at the meal, (as Rashi pointed out) and even if we were to say that Yisro came after Matan Torah, Moshe could still be Mochel his Kovod for the sake of the Mitzvah which involves the Shechina. (Only question is, why wasn’t the Shechina by the meal of Rav Gamliel? There it was a Seudas Mitzvah with Talmidei  Chachamim and yet only a Nasi was able to be Mochel, but not a King? A bit of a Tzarich Iyun. This question could be why the Meshech Chachmah didn’t want to answer like the Meam Loez.)

As the newly liberated Jews flee Egypt, their former captors gave chase:

וּפַרְעֹה הִקְרִיב וַיִּשְׂאוּ בְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶת עֵינֵיהֶם וְהִנֵּה מִצְרַיִם נֹסֵעַ אַחֲרֵיהֶם וַיִּירְאוּ מְאֹד וַיִּצְעֲקוּ בְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶל ה – Pharaoh drew near, and the children of Israel raised their eyes, and Egyptians were pursuing them. They were terrified, and they cried out to the Lord. (14:10)

Although the Torah clearly intends to mean that he drew near i.e. that he and his army approached, it doesn’t actually say that at all. It says הקריב – a word used for sacrifices, meaning “he brought near”. The Medrash says that Pharaoh was indeed מקריב – what he “brought near” was the Jews, closer to Hashem.

Why does the Torah attribute such credit Pharoah and what is it he did which deserved such high recognition?

There is a Midrash that teaches that prior to the Jews leaving Egypt, there was a debate in Heaven as to whether they should be allowed to leave. The prosecution and defense, the Kategor and Sanegor, would keep going in circles; “The Egyptians worship idols,” was countered with “So do the Jews!” – no redeeming quality could be found in the Jews favour.

The decisive factor in allowing their departure to occur was the faith placed in Hashem through deciding to follow Moshe.

Egypt recognised that their departure would be a massive loss and pursued them. Suddenly, the Jews faith evaporated:

וַיֹּאמְרוּ אֶל מֹשֶׁה הַמִבְּלִי אֵין קְבָרִים בְּמִצְרַיִם לְקַחְתָּנוּ לָמוּת בַּמִּדְבָּר מַה זֹּאת עָשִׂיתָ לָּנוּ לְהוֹצִיאָנוּ מִמִּצְרָיִם – They said to Moshe, “Were there no graves in Egypt that you have taken us to die in the desert? What have you have done by taking us out of Egypt!?” (14:11)

Their attachment to Moshe was severed, their faith gone. They cried out to Hashem but didn’t mean it – the entire episode demonstrates a lack of belief in God’s providence.

Moshe prays for assistance, and Hashem replies: מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי – What are you crying out to me for? Now is a time for action! This is וּפַרְעֹה הִקְרִיב – Pharaoh brought the Jews close to Hashem; but to the exclusion of Moshe from the equation. It is no praise at all.

So Hashem responds:

וַיֹּאמֶר ה אֶל מֹשֶׁה מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעוּ – The Lord said to Moshe, “Why do you cry out to Me? Speak to the children of Israel and tell them to go!”. (14:15)

Their salvation was not going to be based on Moshe’s prayers, or theirs, as that wasn’t the problem.

Moshe’s authority had to be re-established, so Hashem gave him the solution: דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעו – their salvation would be as it was on leaving Egypt – through displaying faith their leader.

As the Pasuk says upon their entering the Red Sea: וַיַּאֲמִינוּ בַּה’ וּבְמֹשֶׁה עַבְדּוֹ – They believed in Hashem and His servant Moshe. (14:31).

One of the most incredible miracles of all times occurs, the Splitting of the Sea, and it’s conclusion happens the same way it began:

וַיֹּאמֶר ה אֶל מֹשֶׁה נְטֵה אֶת יָדְךָ עַל הַיָּם וְיָשֻׁבוּ הַמַּיִם עַל מִצְרַיִם עַל רִכְבּוֹ וְעַל פָּרָשָׁיו – Hashem said to Moshe; “Stretch your hand over the sea, and the water will crash back onto the Egyptians, their chariots, and their horseriders. (14:26)

R’ Shimshon Pinkus wonders why it was necessary for him to lift his hand to “close” the sea, as he did when it came to splitting it. The miracle would be over when the last Jew went ashore, and the sea returning to its normal natural state would seem to be something that just ought to “happen”.

R’ Shimshon Pinkus explains that Hashem was trying to teach the Jews an essential lesson about “natural” occurrences. Quite understandably, splitting the sea requires an action of some sort because it was a miracle; but the returning of the sea to its natural state is equally miraculous!

We take the laws of nature and physics for granted – Hashem was expressing that we ought not to. There is no fundamental reason which causes things to happen; it is all Hashem. This was the underlying message of Hashem’s command for Moshe to stretch out his hand, in the same way, to both start and conclude the miracle. They are the same from Hashem’s perspective.

The Ksav Sofer at the Hesped of his sister told the following story:

Beruriya (wife of the Tanna R’ Meir) had two children whom their father R’ Meir loved very much. One day when R’ Meir was in the Bais Medrash both the children passed away and Beruriya placed them on their beds and covered them with a sheet. When R’ Meir came home from his studies he asked his wife where his children were. Afraid that the news of the passing of his two beloved children would cause too great a harm to her husband, Beruriya told him that they were probably out the house.

While feeding her husband supper she asked, ‘Rebbe, I have a question.’ R’ Meir indicated that she proceed. She went ahead and asked, ‘If someone gave me a deposit to keep safe, when the time is done do I have to give it back to the rightful owner’? Answered R’ Meir, ‘of course you do!’.

Beruriya then got up, took her husband’s hand, brought him to the room and showed him his two sons. R’ Meir fell on the floor and started crying excessively. Beruriya then said to R’ Meir, ‘My husband, did I not just ask you what to do with a deposit and you answered me that I must give it back to the owner? So too Hashem gave us our children, but when he wants them back we have to give them’. With the words of his Aishess Chayil (woman of valour) , R’ Meir was comforted.

The Ksav Sofer explains that R’ Meir was afraid that his children died early because of his sins and if not for him his children would still be alive. Beruriya needed to comfort R’ Meir and let him know that it wasn’t because of his sins rather simply that their time in this world was done and they accomplished whatever it was they needed to accomplish.

The Ksav Sofer finishes off saying that one must realize that when anything bad happens to an individual it is really still within the Chasdei Hashem (G-d’s kindness). According to our sins we may well deserve much worse, but G-d with his compassion lightens the burden and only gives us a small amount of punishment based on what we can handle.

The Midrash in this weeks Parsha writes that if not for the 22 years of Yosef being in exile, (which caused everyone to have a massive Tikun [rectification] because, as a result, Yosef passed the greatest of tests, and all the brothers did Teshuva.) Yaakov would have been brought down to Egypt in chains and the exile would have started then. But, since Yosef was in Egypt and became King, it led to Yaakov being brought down through his own choice, and the exile of Egypt was able to be delayed.

After Yaakov came to Egypt he clearly saw that the pain and suffering that he had had for 22 years was truthfully the Chasdei Hashem, and that everything had worked out for the best. Ultimately, Hashem knows what’s best for us, it’s up to us to believe in Him.

The pasuk at 4:22 says: “וְאָמַרְתָּ אֶל פַּרְעֹה כֹּה אָמַר ה’ בְּנִי בְכֹרִי יִשְׂרָאֵל”- “You shall say to Pharoah, so says G-d: My firstborn son is Israel”

Rashi writes: “ומדרשו כאן חתם הקב”ה על מכירת הבכורה שלקח יעקב מעשו” - “Here G-d had agreed to the fact that Yaakov had taken the firstborn right from Esav”.

What is the connection here?

The Lev Aryeh explains with the following: The next Pasuk, (verse 23) writes that eventually a plague would come in which the firstborn of each Egyptian household would die.

If we look at Makas Bechoros (plague of the firstborn) in Parshas Bo (12:30) it says: ”כִּי אֵין בַּיִת אֲשֶׁר אֵין שָׁם מֵת” – “In every house there was a death”

Rashi asks, how could every household have a firstborn son? He goes on to explain that the Egyptian wives would commit adultery and have sons with other men, each of these sons would be the oldest to its father, hence when the Torah said that the firstborn would die, it referred to the firstborn of the father not the mother.

“דבר אחר מצריות מזנות תחת בעליהן ויולדות מרווקים פנויים, והיו להם בכורות הרבה, פעמים הם חמשה לאשה אחת, כל אחד בכור לאביו”

Now look at the Pasuk about the famous birth of Yaakov and Esav, in Parshas Toldos (25:26): “וְיָדוֹ אֹחֶזֶת בַּעֲקֵב עֵשָׂו וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמוֹ יַעֲקֹב”- “His hand was holding unto the heel of Esav, and they called him Yaakov”

Rashi writes:

“נמצא עשו הנוצר באחרונה יצא ראשון, ויעקב שנוצר ראשונה יצא אחרון, ויעקב בא לעכבו שיהא ראשון ללידה כראשון ליצירה, ויפטור את רחמה, ויטול את הבכורה מן הדין” – “Yaakov was created first, but was only born second, so he claimed that he deserves the firstborn rights, because he was created first, therefore he clutched onto the heel of Esav as if to hold him back.”

Rashi explains that Yaakov was created first; i.e. he was the firstborn of his father, but Esav; who was born first, was firstborn to his mother.

So from the plague of the firstborn where we see that “firstborn” refers to the firstborn of the father, and we can bring a proof that Yaakov deserved the right of the firstborn, as he was also firstborn of his father.  That is the link with our original Rashi, showing because of Makas Bechoros, Yaakov was the true firstborn, in that Hashem passed judgment based on the formula Rashi presented at Yakov’s birth of being the father’s first son.

Amazing!

ותאמר שתה אדני ותמהר ותורד כדה על ידה ותשקהו. ותכל להשקותו ותאמר גם לגמליך אשאב עד אם כלו לשתות.

“She [Rivka] said, ‘Drink, my lord,’ and quickly she lowered her jug to her hand and gave him [Eliezer] drink. When she finished giving him drink, she said, ‘I will draw water even for your camels, until they have finished drinking.’” (Chayei Sarah, 24:18, 19)

The pasuk in Devarim 11:15, says,  ונתתי עשב בשדך לבהמתך ואכלת ושבעת– “I shall provide grass in your field for your cattle, and you will eat, and you will be satisfied.” The Gemara in Brachos 40a learns from here that one must feed his animals before feeding himself.

What about drinking? Who comes first?

The Sefer Chassidim (531) learns from our pasukim in Chayei Sarah that humans come first. We see this from Rivka, who first gave Eliezer to drink, and only afterwards did she give the camels.

The Shulchan Aruch (O”C 167:6) is discussing a situation in which a person has already made a bracha on his food, and between that and eating, he discusses something that is of the interests of the meal. In such a case, one does not need to make a new bracha. One of the examples the Shulchan Aruch gives is that one asks someone else to feed his animals. This too is considered “tzaruchei seudah,” as the Gemara says, one must feed his animals before he feeds himself. The Magen Avraham (ibid 18), contrasts this with drinking. In such a situation, if one were to ask another to give his animals to drink, one might (see Machatzis HaShekel) have to make a new bracha. He bases this on the Sefer Chassidim’s limud from Rivka. According to the Sefer Chassidim, since humans come before animals regarding drinking, it would thereby not be tzarchei seudah to discuss giving them to drink first. The Mishna Brurah (ibid 40) brings this Magen Avraham as halacha l’meisah.

The Yad Ephraim (ibid) asks, surely there is a better proof to this Halacha (that regarding drinking humans come before animals), from the pasuk in Parshas Chukas (20:8),והוצאת להם מים מן הסלע והשקית את העדה ואת בעירם – “You shall bring forth for them water from the rock, and give drink to the assembly and to their animals.” (It seems that his question stems from the fact that this pasuk is after Matan Torah, as opposed to the pasuk in Chayei Sarah. However, the Yad Ephraim obviously did not see the Sefer Chassidim inside, for the Sefer Chassidim does learn from that pasuk as well). He quotes the Ohr HaChaim (in Parshas Chukas and here in Chayei Sarah) who says that we cannot use either of these pasukim as proofs that man comes before animals with regard to drinking, since both are cases where man was in a situation of great thirst. Under such circumstances, it is obvious that one should give man to drink before animals. However, under normal circumstances there is no difference between food and drink; animals come first.

The Kli Chemda (Chayei Sara 4) writes that the Sefer Chassidim meant nothing different than the Ohr HaChaim, that animals always come first unless the human is specifically uncomfortable, be it hunger or thirst. He extracts this by the wording of the Sefer Chassidim: לענין צמאון אדם ובהמה יתנו לאדם תחילה ואח”כ לבהמה – “Regarding [the] thirst of man and animal we give to man first and afterward to animal.” The Sefer Chassidim does not say לענין שתייה – “regarding drink,” but rather “thirst.” If so, he means exactly as the Ohr HaChaim.

(According to the Kli Chemda a new halacha would appear. That is, specifically one who was not uncomfortably thirsty yet he wanted to have a drink, makes a bracha on his drink. But before taking a sip, he asks of a friend to quickly give his animals to drink. This would be considered tzarchei seuda according to the Kli Chemda’s interpretation of the Sefer Chassidim. One would thereby not be required to make a new bracha. However, for one who is thirsty, this would not be considered tzarchei seudah, and would require a new bracha. This is clearly not how the Magein Avraham and others understood the Sefer Chassidim.)

This suggestion of the Kli Chemda in interpretation of the Sefer Chassidim is difficult to accept, besides for the fact that many other Torah giants did not understand the Sefer Chassidim this way. Surely this is due to the contrast the Sefer Chassidim draws between drink and food. The Sefer Chassidim begins by saying, “Regarding [the] thirst of man and animal we must give to man first and afterward to animal,” and he continues by sourcing the pasukim in Chayei Sara and Chukas. He then contrasts this as follows: אבל באכילה הבהמה קודמת – “But as for eating, the animal is first,” and he carries on by citing the appropriate pasukim as proofs. Now, according to the Kli Chemda, why does the Sefer Chassidim contrast “thirst” with “eating”? A better contrast would have been “thirst” and “not thirsty,” or “hunger” and “not hungry.” Rather it certainly appears that clearly the Sefer Chassidim’s intention was to differentiate between food and drink, and that by “thirst” he meant “drink,” as all other Achronim understood him.

Other Achronim are bothered with the Sefer Chassidim’s halacha for a reason other than the Ohr HaChaim’s. How can we learn from Rivka who gave Eliezer before the camels if the camels were not her own. It seems clear from the Gemara in Brachos that this halacha to give to animals first is only if they are one’s own animals. There is no notion that one would have to feed every stray cat on the block before sitting down to lunch. If so, Rivka did not have any obligation whatsoever (not even tzar baalei chayim, see Igros Moshe O”C 2, 52) to give the camels to drink. Naturally, she gave Eliezer first. And as part of her great altruistic characteristics, she gave the camels too. But how can one see from this story any proof to who comes first in drink between man and animal?

The Chasam Sofer (Toras Moshe, Chayei Sara) brings the Elya Raba who asks this question. The Chasam Sofer explains that really the halacha is not like the Sefer Chassidim, and that even for drink animals come first. He elucidates Rivka’s actions based on the Gemara Baba Metzia 49a, that one can be makneh a small gift just by saying so. There is no requirement for a physical transaction (maiseh kinyan). That is why she said “Drink, my lord,” and quickly gave him to drink even before mentioning giving to camels to drink. She had been makneh just enough water to him to quench his own thirst, but no more, in order to insure that he was not required to give to the camels. Had she said, “I will give you and your camels to drink,” Eliezer would have acquired from her enough water for himself and the camels, and would have had to give the camels first, despite his thirst. Rivka chose her words wisely in order to insure that Eliezer got before the camels.

The Ksav Sofer (Teshuvos, O”C 32) uses his father’s interpretation to illuminate the pasuk in Chukas. “You shall bring forth for them water from the rock, and give drink to the assembly and to their animals.” He asks, why was it necessary for Hashem to tell Moshe Rabbeinu והשקית – “give drink” to the people? Would it not suffice to say, “You shall bring forth for them water from the rock”?  Once Moshe Rabbeinu had released water from the rock, the people would have been perfectly capable in getting the water themselves. The Ksav Sofer answers that had Hashem just said that, then every individual would have attained water from Hashem and would have been required to give to their animals first. In order to insure that the people themselves would quench their thirst first, Hashem specifically said to Moshe Rabbeinu that he was to give them to drink. Meaning that as the water left the rock it was given by Hashem into Moshe’s possession. Thereby it was not considered to be given to the people directly by Hashem, but rather from Moshe specifically enough for each individual. Thereby they were not required to give their animals first. After their thirst was quenched, they were allowed to have more for their animals. Clearly, the Chasam Sofer and the Ksav Sofer did not see the necessity to learn these pasukim as the Sefer Chassidim did.

In defense of the Sefer Chassidim, Rav Moshe Feinstein (Igros Moshe O”C 2, 52) suggests that clearly Rivka was obligated to do tzedaka towards Eliezer. Inasmuch, her requirement was to do so in the form that Eliezer himself would have needed to do. Meaning, in the same way that had Eliezer had his own water he would have had to give the camels first due to his obligation of tzedaka toward the animals (if the halacha is the same by drink as it is by food, as those who oppose the Sefer Chassidim believe), so too when Rivka was to give water to Eliezer she was to give it to him in the same way that he would have distributed it. Her mitzvah of tzedaka toward Eliezer required her to do that which held preliminary status among his obligations. That is, to give to the camels first, albeit that they were not her own. Since we see that she rather gave to Eliezer first, the Sefer Chassidim learned from here that it must be because the halacha by drinking is that man comes before animal.

A question one might ask on this is, never mind that the camels were not Rivka’s, they weren’t Eliezer’s either! They belonged to Avraham Avinu, as did Eliezer who was his slave. Inasmuch as this halacha did not apply to him, how could Rivka be fulfilling her obligation via his obligation if he didn’t have such an obligation to begin with? The answer to this seems to be, that all these halachos of feeding animals are obligatory not to the monetary owner of the animal, but rather to the one who carries out the feedings (“mizonosav alecha,” see O”C 324:11 and Mishnah Berurah 29). Often, they can be the same person. But in the case of Eliezer, although he was not the monetary owner of the camels, they were given into his care. It was thereby his requirement toward the camels, and thus Rivka’s requirement to act according to Eliezer’s, as Rav Moshe writes. This same idea can be used to redefine the pasuk in Chukas. It was Moshe Rabbeinu’s obligation to give the Jews to drink according to their very own obligation towards their animals. Thus, since he carried this out by first giving the people to drink and only then to their animals, we see that when it comes to drinking, man comes before animals.

(See the Yad Ephraim who explains  על דרך דרושwhy there should be this discrepancy between food and drink.)

As Avraham recovers from his circumcision, the temperature gets blazingly hot, with the intention that Avraham relax and recover.

. וַיֵּרָא אֵלָיו ה’ בְּאֵלֹנֵי מַמְרֵא וְהוּא יֹשֵׁ בפֶּתַח הָאֹהֶל כְּחֹם הַיּוֹם. וַיִּשָּׂא עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא וְהִנֵּה שְׁלֹשָׁה אֲנָשִׁים נִצָּבִים עָלָיו וַיַּרְא וַיָּרָץ לִקְרָאתָם מִפֶּתַח הָאֹהֶל וַיִּשְׁתַּחוּ אָרְצָה

Hashem appeared to him in the plains of Mamre; and he was sitting at the entrance of the tent when the day was hot. He raised his eyes and noticed three men were approaching him, and he saw them. He ran toward them from the entrance of the tent, and he prostrated himself to the ground.

His location “from the entrance of the tent” is established when the setting is described, yet repeated when he departs. Why?

The Kehilas Yitzchak explains that the Gemara in Brachos teaches that one who  leaves a synagogue should not take large steps while leaving - he shouldn’t appear happy when finishing a mitzvah. There is also a halacha in he Shulchan Aruch that it is a mitzvah to run towards any mitzvah.

If someone is switching from one mitzvah to another, should he run or not? A paradox is presented:  if he runs, it appears to devalue the first mitzvah; if he doesn’t run, then he isn’t doing the mitzvah of running to perform the second mitzvah!

The resolution is that if the first mitzvah is greater than the second, then he shouldn’t run; so as to not devalue the first and greater mitzvah. If the second mitzvah is greater, the he should run in order to fulfill the second greater mitzvah with haste and zeal. What if the two are equal? He should walk the first half of the journey and run the second half, in this way he fulfills both his obligations.

So how did Avraham conduct his behaviour? The Gemara in Shabbos teaches that taking in guests is greater than speaking to Hashem.

If so, when Avraham went to take in guests, although previously speaking to Hashem, the second mitzvah was greater than the first, Avraham had to run the entire journey.

Therefore the Torah writes that he ran towards them to praise his eagerness to run towards the second mitzvah the entire journey; “from the entrance of the tent”.

Hashem sends two angels, one to save Lot and the other to destroy Sedom. The people of Sedom became so twisted and corrupt that Hashem had to destroy the entire city. Sedom knew the concept idea of kindness and chessed; they just twisted it in the most perverse way.

Chazal teach that if someone were too tall for a bed, they would cut off his legs so he would fit. Give Tzeddaka, plenty of it, just don’t let the pauper use those coins to buy food in the city. Sedom took the attribute of chesed and warped it to what they saw as ethical, what they believed kindness to be.

Lot brings the angels, disguised as travelers  into his home, prohibited by law in Sedom. He offers them food and lodging, punishable by death. A mob gathers to dispense justice, and when the people of Sedom want to attack the travelers, Lot offers his two daughters in their place, and is willing to give up his own life to save his guests. The angels intercede, striking their attackers with blindness. They subsequently inform Lot that he must flee from Sedom to save himself.

Rashi (19:29) says that Lot merited from being rescued from Sedom because when Avraham put Sarah in a box before going into Egypt, Lot didn’t tell the Egyptians that Sarah was hidden inside. Lot could have told the Egyptians who would then kidnap Sarah, kill Avraham, and Lot would inherit all of Avraham’s property; but instead he kept his mouth shut.

Lot’s only true merit was from not informing on Avraham and Sarah; he had nothing else.

Why in the world would Lot not get any merit for hosting guests in the incredible manner delineated above? Lot was willing to give up his life for them; yet his only merit came from not getting his uncle killed?

Rashi (19:17) also says that the angels warned Lot not to look at Sedom being destroyed because Lot himself wasn’t fit to be saved through his own merit, but only through Avraham’s merit which is controversial to what I just said above.

Rav Dessler says that if a person was taught as a child all the laws of Shabbos and he grows up in a Shomer Shabbos house, then he doesn’t get much credit for not turning on a light on Shabbos. This person doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. He knows not to (and why not to) turn on a light on Shabbos. The disgrace that he would be in his friends and family’s eyes, stop him from even thinking about it. Thus his struggle in life doesn’t include the will he/won’t he use the lights on Shabbos, but something more sophisticated; such as will he study Torah for a bit on Shabbas? Or will he be haughty when he interacts with friends?

The point is that every Jew is on their own level with their own respective trials and tribulations. But something that you are so accustomed to do, that you are taught to do your whole life, stops becoming a test for you eventually – it literally becomes natural. The Evil Inclination has no pull over something so naturally ingrained into a person.

Lot grew up in the house of the kindest man who ever lived – the epitome of chessed. After living with Avraham for so long, and following his example day by day, Lot became so accustomed to hosting guests, to the point where he had no choice in the matter. Lot had to be kind to people, he’d been living that way for so long. If so, says Rav Dessler, Lot’s conduct of self sacrifice are not as valuable as they appear. There is still merit received for mitzvos done with no choice, but it wouldn’t have been enough to save Lot.

On the other hand, Lot had extreme passion for financial success.

As we see later  Lot parts from Avraham due to a financial disagreement. If Lot would’ve informed on Sarah, he would have been phenomenally wealthy. He would inherit Avraham’s property and live a happy life. This was truly a difficult test for Lot, in a field he hadn’t had training or experience. Lot conquered his inclination for money, and didn’t tell on Sarah.

Through this act alone, which appears fairly insignificant to the unenlightened eye, Lot merited to be saved from the destruction of Sedom.

The value of our actions is directly proportional to the effort expended to perform them.

Our Shemona Esrei, the staple point of prayer, begins with a Tefila called Avos.  Avos goes through how Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov each accepted and were accepted by Hashem. The Bracha ends off with ברוך אתה…מגן אברהם.

The Beis Yosef in in the Tur brings down a Midrash from Shivulei Haleket  that says that each Brachaof Shemona Esrei is in essence what the angels said when an awe-inspiring event happened in the history of the Jews. For example when Yitzchak was brought as a Korban the Melachim cried out Mechayay Hamasim or when Yosef was taught 70 languages by the Malaach Gavriel, the Melachim cried out חונן הדעת. So what is the story behind מגן אברהם ?

In this weeks Parsha (15:7) G-d proclaims to Avraham “I am Hashem who took you out of Ur Kasdim to give to you this land as an inheritance”. (Rashi 11:28). Many of the Meforshim bring down that אברהם  figured out on his own that there was a monotheistic creator and traveled around the world preaching this claim. Nimrod, the leader of the World at the time, wasn’t satisfied with him and threw him into a fire from which he walked out 3 days later, unscathed as Hashem had protected him. At this point the Melachim in heaven screamed out מגן אברהם‘’ – ‘the G-d who protects Avraham  ‘ which is what we do too in our Shemonah Esrei to commemorate this incredible miracle.

This is a beautiful Midrash which shows how Avraham was willing to give up his life for G-d even before He showed Himself to Avraham. There is only one question: Why didn’t the Torah tell us about this incident? The Tanach brings so many other cases of people dying Al Kiddush Hashem, why not mention this one? Yes, it is mentioned in Oral Torah , but this looks like one of the focal points of Avrahams life, so why wouldn’t the Torah mention it any other form other than בדרך רמז  (hint)? (רשי 11:28)

The Shela asks this question (Sefer Yad Hashela) and gives an incredible answer. We have a Halacha that at certain times (when forced to kill someone, have illicit relations, or commit the sin of idol worship)  a Jew must give up his life rather than committing a forced sin upon himself (Please ask your Rav for confirmation). This is called dying אל קידוש ה’ .

The Shela says that this Halacha is true only when a Jew is forced to commit the sin. But, if the Jew brought the issue on himself, it would not be called dying אל קידוש ה’ . He brought it upon himself to be killed and that is not what G-d wanted. Avraham did just that. He went too far trying to convince the world that there was a G-d and he brought it upon himself to be thrown into the furnace. Since Avraham acted against Halacha the Torah couldn’t have written it down because as we know the Torah is a book of laws, not a story book. Therefore the only way we could mention this incredible act of Avraham is in the Oral Torah . The Shela finishes and asks  why did Avraham go against Halacha? He answers that it was at a time when the world was so entrenched with idol worship that Avraham needed to go against Halacha to put an end to it. This is fine for Avraham as Hashem obviously agreed with his course of action, but it is not a way of living for us to emulate and thus it is only hinted in our Torah in the two words Ur Kasdim.

When Hashem informs Noah of the impending flood,  a distinction is made for the first time in the Torah between kosher (“טהור”) animals and non-kosher (“טמא”) animals.

At the time, this was not practical dietary information; man was not yet permitted to consume meat, its criticality to the kosher diet was not known until Sinai. Yet was a certain relevance to the people of the time who kept the Seven Noachide Laws – they were only allowed to bring offerings from kosher animals.

When Noah is informed how to populate the ark: “of every pure animal you shall take” (7:2); whereas concerning the non-kosher animals he is told “they will come to you” (6:20). Why did the kosher ones need to be sought out?

The word טהור is related to the word “צהור” meaning transparent, which describes allowing for light to pass through something. Consequently, purity has the connotations of being receptive, being able to accept the light of God.

The dietary laws for which Jews are obligated to keep for all of time are not intended to preserve bodily health, nor are they related to climatic conditions – both reasons being documented elsewhere. After all, we have a responsibility to ensure that non-Jewish residents living in Israel keep the law (גר תושב) are taken care of, and it is completely permitted to do so using non-kosher food products.

The actual reason, as explained by  Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, is that animals are “pure” if they are receptive to human influence; they submit their nature to man without requiring taming; they serve his purposes; and instinct and passion do not overwhelmingly predominate them. Animals which are “impure” have that status because they are unable to be controlled, and can only be tamed, if at all, through violence, which is detrimental to nature.

The same applies when animals are to be used for sacrifices. The main function of a sacrifice is to express complete dedication to God. Through the blood spilled we symbolically devote our lifeblood to God’s will. Therefore only animals which closely align to man’s nature are suitable for a sacrifice. The characteristics of the kosher animals are what Jews should aspire to have within them – the ability to subdue instinct. Accordingly, only those animals that were later permitted to Jews as food are fit to be used as offerings – the same reason applies in both instances.

Consequently we can see why Noah was commanded to actively seek out the pure animals, while the impure animals would come to him. The pure animals by their very nature are meant to inform mankind of the mission, the duty to overcome what comes naturally, which, back then, was achieved by offering them as a sacrifice. Today we achieve this by eating them.

Literally food for thought.

Regarding the extent of the severity of the flood, we are told:

וימח את כל היקום אשר על פני האדמה מאדם עד בהמה עד רמש ועד עוף השמים וימחו מן הארץ וישאר אך נח ואשר אתו בתבה – Hashem blotted out all existence on the face of the Earth – from man; to animals; to creeping things; and to the birds of the skies; and they were blotted out from the earth. Only Noah survived, and those with him in the Ark.” (7:23)

Rashi quotes the Midrash that teaches that Noah was once late to feed a lion, and it bit him in the leg. The Midrash extrapolates this from this verse, from the word “אך” – “only,” which implies a limitation – an exception. The “limitation” was Noah himself, that he was more limited; a part of him was missing – having been bitten off by the lion.

What is the goal and function of this teaching? What is the significance of this account?

The Gemara in Bava Metzia states that whenever R’ Chanina and R’ Chiya were in a dispute, R’ Chanina would say to R’ Chiya; “If the Torah were to be forgotten in Israel, I would restore it using my argumentative ability.”

R’ Chiya would reply to R’ Chanina: “I already made sure that Torah should not be forgotten in Israel. I  planted flax and made nets from it, trapped deers with the nets. I fed their meat to orphans, and prepared scrolls from their skins, upon which I wrote the five books of Torah. Then I went to a town which contained no teachers and taught each of the five books to five children, and the six orders of the Talmud to six children. And I instructed them: ‘Until I return, teach each other the Torah and the Mishna;’ and thus I preserved the Torah from being forgotten in Israel.”

The obvious question is why he didn’t just buy some parchment ready-made. Was it necessary for R’ Chiya to go through all the entire manufacturing process just to obtain some parchment?

The Maharsha explains that in commencing something, one must be sure that it starts out fundamentally sound. Thus, R’ Chiya intended to ensure that the continuation of Torah would spread from solid foundations. There was no room for financial impropriety leading to the emergence of the parchment in the marketplace; they needed to be secured in holiness from the outset. He could only do this if directly under his own supervision.

However, this itself begs extra clarification. Why was all this necessary? The Mishna in Avos 1:2 teaches: “Shimon HaTzadik used to say: ‘The world is stands on three things: On Torah, on Service (Prayer), and on Acts of Kindness”. Rabbeinu Yona explains that “the world stands” on these three things means that these are the purpose of creation; creation happened in order to bring these things into being.

It is evident then, that if one of these three things were removed from the equation, creation would have no reason for this world to exist. To this end, R’ Chaim of Volozhin writes regarding the study of Torah, that if not a single Jew across the globe were to learn for even one second, the entire universe would cease to be.

It is for this reason that R’ Chiya needed to take extreme measures to insure the future of Torah learning. One of the three foundations of the world certainly requires impeccable establishment.

With this insight we can explain the Midrash’s story of Noah being attacked.

The Midrash teaches that until the Torah was given and the Mishkan built, Torah and Prayer were not required; and the sole foundation the world stood on was Acts of Kindness. Rashi quotes the Gemara in Sanhedrin that explains that although the generation of the flood was guilty with all sorts of activity, it was only due to their “חמס” – corruption, theft and extortion – that their fate was sealed. Because the world at that point stood only – or was created only – for the perpetuation of kindness. By going to the opposite extreme, by robbing and cheating each other, they doomed themselves. Without standing up for the purpose of the world, they retained no purpose in existence.

Noah and his family had a very particular job to accomplish in the Ark. Rashi suggests another interpretation of the word “אך” : that Noah was himself, less. This means that he started out eager and excited, but then sighed and groaned about the burden of his duty to care for the animals. Chazal teach that for all twelve months in the Ark, Noach and his sons did not sleep, for there were always more animals to feed. (This poses a slight difficulty – as if he was always at work, he could never be “late” per se.) But this certainly seems odd – if Hashem found Noah to be righteous among his generation – at least enough to warrant his survival – why trouble him for the duration of the flood to such an extent that he was overworked? Why not simply allow him to enjoy the cruise?

As the Midrash said; at that time there was but one purpose to the world: Acts of Kindness. That generation had destroyed their foundations, resulting in their annihilation. It is not a stretch then, to say that Noah’s “job” was to rectify and restore Kindness; to rebalance the world on its single, shaky leg. He could not sit back and enjoy the cruise; of course he had work to do!

In rebalancing the world with Noah, Kindness required that he not just feed one animal from time to time, but to go to great lengths – to the extent of not sleeping for an entire year – to feed all animals, all the time. All this was necessary to counter the severity of the destruction to the pillar of Kindness caused by his generation. This is congruent to the story of R’ Chiya who also exhausted great efforts in establishing the pillar of Torah.

So the Midrash tells us; at one point Noah slacked, or came late. This was a disaster – given the magnitude of his task. He was the one chosen to perpetuate Kindness, and his performance needed to be perfect – being late was not an option. The lion delievered this message to Noah by biting him.

To balance the world, imperfections were intolerable and could not be afforded. It is implied that the lion bit Noah in the leg, as we are told that he left the Ark limping – and the symbolism is clear; in reestablishing the “leg” of the world there must not be any fault.

There is an old joke: “Why do flamingos stand on one leg? Because if they lift it, they’ll fall.” In causing Noah to limp, he was reminded of just how delicate his world was, standing on it’s one “leg,” it’s one purpose – Kindness. It may only be one “leg” but it would be enough to give life to the world. The world needed Noah’s Kindness on the Ark to be done to a perfect level. The lion bite was a rectification for his infraction, however slight.

But the world got its’ leg to stand on, a purpose, in his חסד – Kindness.

Every year, on Yom Kippur and 9 Av, we recall the death of the Asara Harugei Malchus – the Ten Martyrs

One of the reasons revealed about their death is in the prayer itself, quoting the Midrash that the Ten Martyrs died as an atonement for Yakov’s sons abducting Yosef. It’s a powerful notion; but the there were Ten Martyrs and only nine brothers who sold Yosef. Reuven had returned home, and Binyamin hadn’t left with them, and Yosef was not party to his own sale. What is the discrepancy; if the Martyrs were to absolve the brothers of their sin, there ought to only have been 9

R’ Shimshon Ostropolier answers that after the brothers sold Yosef they agreed a Cheirum – an excommunication order on anyone who revealed the truth to their father.

But, as mentioned above, there were only nine brothers present and for the order to come into effect there would need to be ten present – a minyan. The Midrash says that Hashem joined to be the tenth and to formalise the order. This is easily proven by the fact that Yosef’s outcome was withheld from Yakov, in spite of his prophecy.

Nine Martyrs gave up their lives as an atonement for the nine brothers. But one of the Martyrs gave up his life for the tenth member of the minyan to. R’ Shimshon tells us that it was R’ Akiva, but why was R’ Akiva in particular selected for this honour?

The Gemara in Bava Kama 41b discusses how there were two Tanaaim who expounded on all instances of the word ”את” appearing in the Torah. They hypothesised that את implies a secondary law. Their observation worked until they reached “את ה’ תראה” – ‘Hashem your G-d you shall fear’. They weren’t sure what to derive from this “את”. What is supplementary or secondary to God? They were unable to complete their project from lack of being able to expound upon this particular “את”.

Generations later Rabbi Akiva figured out the explanation. He said the “את” was including Talmidei Chachamim, that one must fear the Talmidei Chachamim as he fears G-d.

Rabbi Akiva demonstrably proved the importance of honouring Sages. Not that they are remotely equal or even similar, but to say that a Talmid Chacham must be revered just as we revere Hashem. By extending the honour of the Torah, he merited being the Tenth Martyr.

As heard from R’ Yakov Minkus
 
ז. זְכֹר יְמוֹת עוֹלָם בִּינוּ שְׁנוֹת דּוֹר וָדוֹר שְׁאַל אָבִיךָ וְיַגֵּדְךָ זְקֵנֶיךָ וְיֹאמְרוּ לָךְ
7. Remember the days of old; reflect upon the years of [other] generations. Ask your father, and he will tell you; your elders, and they will inform you.
  
טז. יַקְנִאֻהוּ בְּזָרִים בְּתוֹעֵבֹת יַכְעִיסֻהוּ
16. They provoked His zeal with alien worship; they made Him angry with abominations deeds.

Ha’azinu is a repetition of history and everything that happened in the Torah so far for example:
 
The first letters in the first 4 psukim are:
ה = הַאֲזִינוּ
י =  יַעֲרֹף 
כ = כִּי
ה = הַצּוּר 
 
These four letter equal a gematria of 40, corresponding to the letter מ.  The 5th pasuk starts with a  שֶׁ and the sixth starts with a ‘ה’.     
מ + ש + ה = משה 
 
The Midrash Tanchuma says that an author usually writes his name at the end of his book. If we apply this here then Ha’azinu seems to be the end of the Torah, even though on first glance it seems that the parsha of V’Zos Habracha is the final parsha. However, if we look into it then we will see that in fact, V’Zos Habracha is not a halachic or historical parsha, it is ’merely’ Moshe’s farewell speech to the Jewish People and his Brachos to them.

In last week’s parsha, Nitzavim-Vayelech, it says, ‘כִּתְבוּ…הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת’.

In this weeks parsha it says, ‘הַאֲזִינוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם…וְתִשְׁמַע הָאָרֶץ’ Finally, in the beginning of the Torah, parshas Bereishis it says, ‘ א. בְּרֵאשִׁית בָּרָא אֱ־לֹהִים אֵת הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֵת הָאָרֶץ: The Sefer Yetzira says that the end of an era, or in this case, the Torah, reflects the beginning.

There is an argument as to whether the instruction of ‘כִּתְבוּ…הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת’ is on Ha’azinu, or the whole torah. However, if we bring in the fact that the end should reflect the beginning, it is not a question, or an argument because they are inextricably linked and, essentially, one and the same.

There is a ‘יסוד’ – a ‘secret insight’ about the importance of Heaven and Earth, of שמים וארץ. In their essence, they interact through גשם – rain and the water cycle reflects this interaction, as we will now explain:

 
ג. כִּי שֵׁם יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶקְרָא הָבוּ גֹדֶל לֵאלֹהֵינוּ
3. When I call out the name of the Lord, ascribe greatness to our God. (Devarim 32:3)
The Rambam explains, ‘כִּי שֵׁםה’ is in שמים and ’הָבוּ גֹדֶל’ is on the ארץ. Effectively, this means that we have בכירה - a free will to see the physical in this world, elevate it in our own way and aquire the ability to be spiritual. Creating our own spirituality through the pre-existing physicality of the world.
Rain, in its being, improves, fixes, nourishes and revitalises everything it ’touches’  and this is the ’שפע’ – ‘goodness’ from שמים that provides production in the world.

We, in our own way, can connect to שמים through two different mediums - תורה and תפילה.

Why do we daven for rain? For the obvious reason that we are not looking for the physical aspect – but for the recognition of Hashem’s hand and part in our day to day physical lives.
Through תפילה, we connect to שמים and bring it down to ארץ, and through תורה we elevate the world and bring it up to שמים
Rain has two states of being. One of them being the vapor state, where moisture evaporates and ‘rises’ into the sky, and it condenses and ‘descends’ to earth.

Ha’azinu is the summary of the purpose of creation - history has proven that when we acheive this function of linking שמים וארץ, life unfolds pleasantly, and when there hasn’t been a link, there has been devastation and destruction.

 
אז הוחל: (לשון חולין) לקרא את שמות האדם ואת שמות העצבים בשמו של הקב”ה לעשותן עבודה זרה ולקרותן אלהות:
Then it became common: הוּחַל, is an expression of חוּלִין – profaneness: to name people and idols with the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, to make them idols and to call them deities. (Bereishis 4:26)
During the time of the דור ענוש there was a lot of עבודה זרה. Shamayim was ‘stopped’ and as a result the seas swelled and consumed a third of the earth – thus proving that when we sin through שמים/ תפילה we get punished through the ארץ. 
 
On the other hand, during the דור המבול the Jews sinned through the land and therefore, suffered punishment through the שמים – it rained for 40 days and 40 nights. Thus proving that when we sin through ארץ  we get punished through שמים.
 
The Zohar says that the דור המבול should have received the תורה.    
 
120 years of שת’s life was taken in order for נח to be able to wait 120 years.  Then there was the 40 days of rain which was נגד הר סיני, and when הר סיני happened, people thought there would be another מבול.

‘Vatishaches ha’aretz’ - The תורה was there to be able to elevate the physical.

Hashem broke up the world into nations, and the Jews were the link בין שמים וארץ.
In the מדבר, and when we had the ananei hakavod with us, we were with hashem, and truly experienced שמים on the ארץ on our level. When we got to ארץ ישראל, we experienced an ארץ elevated closer to שמים.
If or when we lose ארץ ישראל, we lose the connection between שמים וארץ, and the other nations will have the power to overtake and dominate us.
 
To conclude, the pasuk says, ‘הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת’  and we asked, ’is it ספר תורה or תפילה?’, the answer is that it is both. When we sing it as a prayer, its שמים בארץ. When we learn it, its ארץ לשמים.

מ. וּלְקַחְתֶּם לָכֶם בַּיּוֹם הָרִאשׁוֹן פְּרִי עֵץ הָדָר כַּפֹּת תְּמָרִים וַעֲנַף עֵץ עָבֹת וְעַרְבֵי נָחַל וּשְׂמַחְתֶּם לִפְנֵי יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶם שִׁבְעַת יָמִים:

40. And you shall take for yourselves on the first day, the fruit of the Hadar tree, date palm fronds, a branch of a braided tree, and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before the Lord your God for a seven day period. (Vayikra 23:40)

This pasuk, in parshas Emor, contains the commandment for each Jewish Man to use his own Esrog on Succos – specifying ‘לָכֶם’, ‘for yourselves’.

. יט. וְעַתָּה כִּתְבוּ לָכֶם אֶת הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת וְלַמְּדָהּ אֶת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל שִׂימָהּ בְּפִיהֶם לְמַעַן תִּהְיֶה לִּי הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת לְעֵד בִּבְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל

19: And now, write for yourselves this song, and teach it to the Children of Israel. Place it into their mouths, in order that this song will be for Me as a witness for the children of Israel.   (Devarim 31:19)

This next pasuk, in Parshas Vayelech, commands every Jewish man to write a Sefer Torah using the same specification  ‘לָכֶם’, ‘for yourselves’. However,the Halacha for the second usage of “לָכֶם” is not the same as the one for ‘פְּרִי עֵץ הָדָר’ – the Esrog. When performing the Mitzvah of writing a Sefer Torah, people can write them בשוטפות – in a group. A group of people share the writing of one Sefer Torah and each person is considered to have fulfilled their individual obligation to write a Sefer Torah.

How do we explain the difference between “לָכֶם” by the מצוה of esrog and “לָכֶם” by the מצוה of Sefer Torah? How do we justify the commonly accepted custom of sharing the great financial commitment of the writing of a Sefer Torah?

R Ahron Leib Shteinman explains in reference to the מצוה of esrog:  “לָכֶם” (in Gemara Succos 35a) is used to teach that financial ownership (בעלת ממון) of an esrog is not enough to fulfil the mitzva. There needs to be the possibility of extracting maximum productivity ie a היתר אכילה – the ability to eat it and use it up (destroy it). With shared ownership, a partner has the right to use the asset, but not deplete or destroy it; as this would deprive the co-owners of their rights. , In this case they require recompense. So in the case of the Esrog, if it cannot be used to the fullest extent ie eating it,then there is a deficiency in “לָכֶם” Thus it is clear that since a jointly owned esrog cannot be fully used by an individual partner, one cannot perform the mitzva with it.

However, with the mitzvah of Sefer Torah, the fullest use of the shared item consists of reading it and learning from it. This does not depreciate the asset nor detract from another owner’s share at all. If one partner were to read and learn from it, he is certainly using it to its fullest extent, so there is no deficiency in “לָכֶם”, and all of the participants can fulfill their full obligation even with only a partial share. Indeed, all can use it together to the same extent as it is used individually – so the “לָכֶם” aspect is equal both individually and collectively.

This then answers both our questions, showing that many people can share equally in the great Mitzvah of writing a Sefer Torah but each man must purchase his own individual esrog.

ב. וְשַׁבְתָּ עַד יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ וְשָׁמַעְתָּ בְקֹלוֹ כְּכֹל אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי מְצַוְּךָ הַיּוֹם אַתָּה וּבָנֶיךָ בְּכָל לְבָבְךָ וּבְכָל נַפְשֶׁךָ:

2. and you will return to the Lord, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul, and you will listen to His voice according to all that I am commanding you this day you and your children.
ח. וְאַתָּה תָשׁוּב וְשָׁמַעְתָּ בְּקוֹל יְ־הֹוָ־ה וְעָשִׂיתָ אֶת כָּל מִצְוֹתָיו אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי מְצַוְּךָ הַיּוֹם
8. And you will return and listen to the voice of the Lord, and fulfill all His commandments, which I command you this day.
י. כִּי תִשְׁמַע בְּקוֹל יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ לִשְׁמֹר מִצְוֹתָיו וְחֻקֹּתָיו הַכְּתוּבָה בְּסֵפֶר הַתּוֹרָה הַזֶּה כִּי תָשׁוּב אֶל יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ בְּכָל לְבָבְךָ וּבְכָל נַפְשֶׁךָ:
10. when you obey the Lord, your God, to observe His commandments and His statutes written in this Torah scroll, [and] when you return to the Lord, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul.
In each of the above pesukim, as highlighted, there is the root ‘תשב’ – translating as ‘return’ or repentance. The Ohr Hachayim says that these three instances refer to three different types of תשובה.
The first one, ‘וְשַׁבְתָּ’ refers to תשובה על ידי תורה. As the pasuk says, ‘בְקֹלוֹ’.
The second one, ‘תָשׁוּב’ refers to תשובה as a מצוות עשה. As the pasuk says, ‘וְעָשִׂיתָ’.
The third and final one, ‘ כִּי תָשׁוּב’ refers to תשובה as a מצוות לא תעשה. As the pasuk says,’לִשְׁמֹר’.  Proof of this reference is, we know that when the torah has previously said זכור שבת – it is a positive commandment but when it says שמור שבת it refers to a לא תעשה.
Now that we have that clear, what are they each inferring? R’ Minkus explains that these are the three ways to serve hashem, which are the following:
1. חתן לכלה - the relationship between a bride and groom where there shud be nothing in the world to come between them besides hashem is a  ”דביקות” – cleaving to Hashem.

2. בן לאב - son to his father a role that is fulfilled through אהבה (love) and is therefore a מצוות עשה – “I go out my way for him”

3. עבד מלך - servant to his king which is a service done through יראה (fear) and is therefore a לא תעשה – “I don’t disobey him”.
When a Jew learns the torah, their נשמה - which is a חלק אלו-ה ממעל ‘a part of G-d’ - is interacting with its source of being.
In order for us to effectively and completely do תשובה, to truly ‘return’ to Hashem, we need to fulfil our responsibilities in this all important relationship. The same as the way a relationship will not survive if both partners do not fulfil their role, or if either of them become complacent, or if a son ceases to act as a son to his father or a servant rebels against his master or vice versa in each case - we cannot become complacent in our relationship with Hashem. We must be continuously re-evaluating our role and ‘returning’ to Hashem.

In Parshas Ki Savo, the mitzvah and inyan of Bikkurim is discussed.

The first רשי in the Torah refers to this mitzva (in בראשית א:א). He explains that one of the reasons the world was created is for this particular מצוה.

The question that we have is: What is the significance of this deed/commandment that makes it worth the entire creation of the world?

The answer is: The depth of this מצוה lies in the fact that when one owns a plot of land, and begins doing all the physical labour and the phenomenal amount of work that is involved in producing fruit, one has to till the ground, sow the seeds, plough the earth, prune the weeds and give constant care. After this extraordinary amount of physical backbreaking labour the Torah commands us that one has to take the first fruit that sprouts and bring it to Jerusalem. During the procedure of presenting it to the כהן one says ‘Thank you Hashem for the land and fruit that you gave me’

These lines are a statement of intent. In essence it is a lesson in אמונה that however much a person invests in bringing home his livelihood he still has to understand and remember that nothing is entirely dependent upon him and that ultimately everything is decreed from Above.

We know that אמונה – true faith in Hashem – is the ultimate trait that one can acquire in this world. When one has reached that stage, through the humility required in bringing the first fruits to the כהן and effectively admitting the knowledge that it wasn’t merely through one’s own effort but was only possible through the help of Hashem; then this is one of the reasons to justify the entire creation of the world by Hashem.

As heard from R Yakov Minkus

5. And you shall call out and say before the Lord, your God, “An Aramean [sought to] destroy my forefather, and he went down to Egypt and sojourned there with a small number of people, and there, he became a great, mighty, and numerous nation.   ה. וְעָנִיתָ וְאָמַרְתָּ לִפְנֵי יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֲרַמִּי אֹבֵד אָבִי וַיֵּרֶד מִצְרַיְמָה וַיָּגָר שָׁם בִּמְתֵי מְעָט וַיְהִי שָׁם לְגוֹי גָּדוֹל עָצוּם וָרָב:
6. And the Egyptians treated us cruelly and afflicted us, and they imposed hard labor upon us.   ו. וַיָּרֵעוּ אֹתָנוּ הַמִּצְרִים וַיְעַנּוּנוּ וַיִּתְּנוּ עָלֵינוּ עֲבֹדָה קָשָׁה:

7. So we cried out to the Lord, God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression.   ז. וַנִּצְעַק אֶל יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֱלֹהֵי אֲבֹתֵינוּ וַיִּשְׁמַע יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶת קֹלֵנוּ וַיַּרְא אֶת עָנְיֵנוּ וְאֶת עֲמָלֵנוּ וְאֶת לַחֲצֵנוּ:
8. And the Lord brought us out from Egypt with a strong hand and with an outstretched arm, with great awe, and with signs and wonders.   ח. וַיּוֹצִאֵנוּ יְ־הֹוָ־ה מִמִּצְרַיִם בְּיָד חֲזָקָה וּבִזְרֹעַ נְטוּיָה וּבְמֹרָא גָּדֹל וּבְאֹתוֹת וּבְמֹפְתִים:

In the Haggada on Seder night, when we say the above pesukim in the second half of maggid, we are reviewing the תורה from the point where the Jews were going out of Egypt.

The question is: Why do we not review the actual events in their place in the parshas of Shemos, Va’eira, Bo and Bshalach i.e. in chronological order? This portion over here is:
a) Out of place, as this parsha reviews the commandments to bring bikurim, and
b) Not in any way linked to the rest of the story of יציאת מצריים.
However, it is a focal point, so why is it considered more important than the story in its proper place?

The Sefer HaChinuch explains that the whole avoda of יציאת מצריים is not just telling the story of יציאת מצריים  for its own sake, but rather to tell the story with a Hakoras Hatov angle which the פרשיות of Shemos etc do not have.

The מצוה of  Bikkurim is based on a gratitude for having Eretz Yisrael, which in turn is part of the gratitude for having been taken out of Egypt. So, in reality, this particular portion about יציאת מצריים fits very well in this פרשה – it is about Hakoras Hatov! This is the answer to our two questions as to why the psukim in the Haggada are from this פרשה of  Bikkurim and the proof that Sefer HaChinuch is right.

But, now we ask, what is proper Hakoras Hatov?
There are 4 prescribed events for which we are instructed to make a point of thanks – formerly as a קרבן תודעה (literally as Thanksgiving) but today as ברכת הגומל. These 4 events are:
1. recovery from illness,
2. release from jail,
3. travelling overseas, and
4. travelling through a desert.

The ‘root mitzvah’, the קרבן תודעה, had a special particular Halacha that along with the animal offering, one had to bring 40 loaves of bread.  Because they  are included in the קרבן , these loaves are  equally subject to the laws of Noser, whereby Korbanos left overnight must be destroyed. Unlike many other קרבנות only little portions are removed for the מזבח, Kohanim etc.

How does one eat most of an animal with 40 loaves of bread and avoid Noser?! The answer is simple. One would invite many guests to join the celebration! The whole idea of being Makir Tov is to publicise it and the קרבן פסח is identical – an entire roast animal that is to be consumed after a full meal, in a tiny amount of time, before midnight. Therefore, in order to avoid noser problems you must invite many Seder guests to tell them about יציאת מצריים!

Furthermore the קרבן פסח is a National קרבן תודעה for all four reasons above!
1. We were in bondage and released (Egypt),
2. We went through the sea,
3. We went through the desert, and (as the Midrash in Parshas Yisro says)
4. When the Jews heard Hashem’s Voice, they were cured from all ailments!

In addition, the קרבן פסח is just like the קרבן תודעה, in that the matza is a part of the Korban itself – the Afikoman is intended as Matza and קרבן פסח. Meseches Bikkurim says that when someone brought a single pomegranate as Bikkurim, every street he went along had to shutdown and accompany him to the Beis Hamikdash as part of the publicity. This is just more proof that these psukim are very apt as Pesach is innately affiliated to Hakoras Hatov.

Now, after talking extensively about Hakaras Hatov, how do we go about thanking hashem?
The final pasuk in Parshas Bikkurim וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְכָל הַטּוֹב אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לְךָ יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ וּלְבֵיתֶךָ – you should rejoice in all Hashem does for you – not just one blanket ‘thank you’, but thank Him for each thing individually! We would do well to bear this in mind and itemise each thing for which we ought to thank Hashem on this Rosh Hashana