Emuna: Fulfilling G-d's – and Man's – Decrees

by Rav Netanel Yosifun, Rosh Yeshivat Orot Netanya, yeshiva.co, translated by Hillel Fendel. 

It is said that the son of the saintly Chafetz Chaim was once asked to tell stories of miracles about his father. "For surely," the son was told, "when the Talmud says that G-d fulfills that which a tzaddik (righteous person) decrees, it was referring to a tzaddik like your father."

The son replied: "I don't know stories of 'a tzaddik decrees and G-d fulfills' regarding my father, but I can tell you many stories about him and 'G-d decrees and the tzaddik fulfills.'"

This nice story raises a curious point. As is known, R. Yisrael Meir HaCohen, known as the Chafetz Chaim - the author of the classic Mishna Berura – was a tremendous tzaddik whose blessings accomplished great things for people. (Even my family has a tradition of a blessing to one of us from the Chafetz Chaim that was fulfilled.) Certainly, then, a great man like him, who serves a model for generations regarding the sanctity of speech, spoke holy words that had a great effect in the world! Why, then, would his son not want to tell of those incidents?

It must be that there was a very deep message in the response of the son of the Chafetz Chaim.

Let us first ask: Why does Hashem fulfill the words of a tzaddik? And, for that matter, how do we explain prayer altogether? How and why does it work? Hashem knows what He is doing, so how can He be swayed to change His plans because of our prayers? Does He play favorites for those who plead to Him?

This is of course a very profound matter, that the great scholars of Israel wrote much about, and explained in various ways. Let us illuminate this matter in accordance with one of these approaches, by considering a glass utensil. We know that if one would want to change its shape, he could do so only by breaking it. On the other hand, it was fashioned in the first place by a glass-maker melting sand in very intense heat – and then, during the manufacturing process, he can shape it as he wishes.

Thus, after the object is made, it cannot be changed – but while it is still being formed, the maker can fashion it however he wants.

This is a common phenomenon in the creation of the world. After the world was made, it cannot be changed. But while it was being created, it was able to be shaped in different ways. As such, man cannot change the world's reality, for he did not make it; as far as he is concerned, the world has been completed. But G-d, on the other hand, continually creates the world; as we say in our morning prayers, He "always renews, in His goodness, every day, the act of Creation." As the world's maker, He continually changes reality as He wishes. [This can and must be explained on much deeper levels as well, but for our purposes, this will suffice, as we will see.]

In truth, the reason why G-d fulfills that which a tzaddik decrees is because the tzaddik fulfills that which G-d commands! That is, one who "nullifies" himself in favor of the Divine decree, is actually a pipeline for G-d's word; he has no independent existence of his own, but is rather with G-d. As such, G-d is with him. And when he asks something of G-d, G-d then fulfills his desire – for they are together, so to speak, at the initial point of creation – the point at which it is still possible to change it.

This idea has already been taught to us by the great Rabban Gamliel, son of the redactor of the Mishna, Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi. Rabban Gamliel stated in Pirkei Avot (4,2): "Make His will your will, so that He will make your will His will; nullify your will before His will, so that He will nullify the will of others before your will."

Support for this concept can be found in Parashat Ki Tavo (D'varim 26), where we read that after one completes giving all his required tithes, he is commanded to recite viduy maasrot before G-d – a passage in which he states, "I have done all that You commanded me; look out from Your holy abode and bless your nation Israel and the Land that you have given us." Rashi explains there that we are asking G-d to "look out from Your holy abode" and see that "we have done what You commanded us, and therefore please do what You have committed to do for us!"

For instance, G-d said, "If you walk in My statutes, I will give you rain at their right time." Thus, one who listens to G-d's commands, will have his prayers to G-d heard.

May it thus be G-d's will that we all merit to nullify ourselves before G-d's word, and thus G-d will hear our prayers and shower us with blessing and protection.

Lech Lecha: Patriarch on the Move

by Rav Haggai Londin, Rosh Yeshivat Holon, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The weekly Torah portions of B'reshit and Noach dealt with a pre-historic world: Creation, the Garden of Eden, lifespans of hundreds of years, a great flood, the Tower of Babel, and more of the like. These portions and the descriptions of the first steps of mankind provided a measure of inspiration, but did not really touch upon life as we know it. From Parshat Lech Lecha, however [this week's portion: B'reshit 12,1-17,27], the Torah deals with man and his personality, traits, and struggles.

In Lech Lecha we meet Avraham Avinu, the Patriarch. The world has already undergone all the events listed above, and Avraham's world is new and different. A careful study of the verses in B'reshit and Noach shows that Avraham was born in the year 1948 after Creation, meaning that it took nearly two millennia for mankind to actualize its potential to internalize that which is Divine; only then was Avraham able to appear in history.

The Medrash teaches that the history of the world is divided into three periods: 2,000 years of chaos (tohu va'vohu, B'reshit 1,2), 2,000 years of Torah, and 2,000 years of Messiah. The first period was one of disorder and unrestrained forces. During the course of Parashat Noach, these forces settled down somewhat: The flood softened the world; the center of strength that supported the construction of the Tower of Babel was dispersed throughout many nations; and even the shortening of man's life expectancy attested to the transformation from a world with no strict limits to one of more moderation and calm.

The appearance of Avraham on the world stage was a major turnabout in the history of mankind. His name at first was Avram, literally meaning "exalted father" of mankind. G-d later added the Divine letter heh and changed his name to Avraham. The new five-letter combination is alluded to in the verse, "These are the chronicles of the heavens and earth when they were created" (2,4), from which the Sages derived homiletically that the world was created especially for Avraham. Another Medrash calls him "Eitan HaEzrachi," from the root meaning "shine" – and says that his appearance in history stands for the beginning of the shining of the sun in the world. Thus Avraham's birth begins a new era in history, one of light and rectification.

This transformational stage takes place within every person as well, in his personal development. Just as Avraham appears in the world when it is time for it to advance to its next stage, so too each individual must recognize when he must mature and proceed to shape his life correctly.

THE NEW AGE -"Leave your homeland, birthplace, and father's home, to the land that I will show you." These first words spoken by G-d to Avraham stand for the new character of the new world: Proactivity, walking and doing, as opposed to passivity. Noach's role was to hide out in the face of a world full of evil, but Avraham acts differently: He is always in motion – going, rushing, traveling, hurrying to fulfill G-d's command. Mankind has once again become proactive, but in a positive way.

We find Avraham walking throughout Parashat Lech Lecha: First he goes to the Land, and then he goes down to Egypt because of the famine, where he has a skirmish with Pharoah. After he returns to the Land, he separates from his nephew Lot, fights against the Four Kings, and G-d forges the Covenant Between the Pieces with him. After his son Yishmael is born, G-d and Avraham forge another covenant, that of circumcision. Lots of action in Lech Lecha.

Another attribute of this new era is "independence." Avraham is commanded to detach himself from his childhood home and all that is familiar to him, and to set off on a new path of his own, in a new place with a different culture. Not that he is to change his ways; he is called Avraham Ha'Ivri, because he is on one ever (side) and the rest of the world is on the other ever. What this means is that Avraham is not obligated to anyone or to any "common conceptions;" he shakes off his entire past and begins to make his own way, both physically and spiritually.

Avraham has more than one encounter with kings: First with Nimrod (according to the Medrash), then with Pharaoh, then with the Four Kings, and later (in Parashat Vayera), with Avimelekh. This indicates yet another dimension of Avraham's multi-faceted personage: royalty. If he struggles with kings, that means that he himself is a king, in the sense that he has control and acts with independence. The human culture in which Avraham lived was one of submission to the environment and situation, and he showed that man can control these, and move and advance within them.

FROM NOACH TO LECH LECHA -Pirkei Avot teaches that G-d tested Avraham no fewer than ten times. Tests are not necessarily one-time challenges; a test can also be a period of activity whose end is not certain, nor its measure of success. The number ten, which stands for an aggregate, shows that Avraham was required to pass all the different types of tests and difficulties that the world presents.

This is the process that every person must undergo when he passes from the unripe Noach stage to the developed stage of Lech Lecha. First he builds himself while remaining within himself, but then comes the stage when he must go outward. After he builds his personality, he must then act and withstand tests. That is, the keywords that accompany him from now on are Lech Lecha, "Go!" While Noach comes from the root meaning "to rest," the next stage is that of walking, moving, and doing. The world of tohu va'vohu has prepared the groundwork for mankind to advance to the next level, that of Avraham Ha'Ivri.

Avraham grew up in Ur Kasdim, where the king was Nimrod, "a mighty hunter before the Lord" (10,9). The violent act of hunting characterizes the culture from which Avraham detaches himself. The Sages say that Nimrod hunted not only animals, but also people who opposed his ways; he even threw young Avraham into a fiery furnace, from which G-d saved him. Avraham turns his back on the world of hunting, wars and violent power struggles.

Avraham's next station was in Haran, from the word haron, anger. The Sages say that until Avraham came along, Divine anger reigned. And another thing that Avraham had to abandon was a sense of helplessness and despair: His father's name, Terach, signifies 'tar achar ruach," "aimless searching for meaning." And thus, from a world of hunting, anger, and emptiness, sprouts a person who will lead it to justice, morality, and faith.

We recall that Avraham was charged to leave his "homeland, birthplace, and father's house." Each of these express a framework in which a person grows – and Avraham was commanded to leave them behind. He is no longer to remain in his comfort zones, routines, and inertia; he must get a move on.

"Leave your land" is the call that every Jew hears – must hear – ever since Avraham. We must stand up and head out for the unknown – not for illogical, dangerous missions, but rather for a long and sometimes difficult path, until the goal is reached. One who truly wishes to be a descendant of the Patriarch Abraham does not take refuge in his comfort zone, and does not expect results "now." He is rather open to move and successfully navigate the challenges of life.

Emuna: Causeless Love – With Open Eyes

by Rav Lior Engelman, yeshiva.co, translated by Hillel Fendel. 

One of the most central topics in the philosophy of HaRav Kook is "love" – love in general, and love of Israel in particular. We are accustomed to thinking that love is simply a matter of emotion, and that therefore we cannot control it: One loves whomever his emotions motivate him to love, and hates those for whom his emotions direct him to feel antagonism. Given that our emotions command and direct our love, it is hard to utilize it for additional purposes; this is why we sometimes encounter destructive love, with which we seem to be unable to deal.

Rav Kook did not see love as the fruit of mere emotions. He posited that love is the strongest life force in the world. It stems from the fact that all of creation is a manifestation of G-d – Who is One and Whose Name is One – and therefore all the creatures that He created wish to unite together. The driving force towards this unity is called "love" – not a fleeting and frantic emotion as it sometimes seems, but a fundamental life force that can be developed and learned.

The love of Israel is nothing less than a discipline that must be studied and analyzed, as Rav Kook writes in Orot Yisrael:

"Ahavat Yisrael, and our efforts to see the good in Israel – both its community and its individuals – is not merely a work of emotions, but rather a great discipline in Torah and wisdom, deep and broad, with many branches, all of which grow and are nourished from the life-essence of the light of our Torah of kindness."

When we look at love, it seems to make no sense, and this is why "if a man gives all his wealth in love, he will be mocked and scorned" (Song of Songs 8,7). But in truth, love is in a place that is hidden from our eyes, and therefore in order to properly learn Ahavat Yisrael, one must delve into the innermost aspects of the Torah. Jewish Law can command us to "love your neighbor as yourself" (Vayikra 19,18) - but only a deep study into "faith" can reveal to us how natural this love truly is to us.

Generally, people who are in love are actually blind. They are unable to see the deficiencies in the object of their love, and they are even afraid to totally open their eyes and recognize the imperfect reality – because they don't want to lose the justification for their love. Only after the "in love" period has ended are their eyes opened, and then they do see the deficiencies of the other side, and then, sometimes, love turns into criticism and disappointment. It is hard to both love and be aware of faults, and so people tend to color everything pink and rosy when they love, or black when their love seems to have evaporated.

Despite Rav Kook's great preoccupation with calls for Ahavat Yisrael and the need to learn it in depth, he does not call for blind love. On the contrary, he seeks to base our love on "conscious awareness," so that it will also help us rectify that which is not worthy. This is why he writes there:

"The great love with which we love our nation will not blind us from criticizing all its faults. However, even after we do this in the broadest manner, we find its essence to be free of any stain. 'You are entirely beautiful, my beloved; you have no blemish' (Song of Songs 4,7)."

Rav Kook makes a fascinating and significant differentiation here. We love our nation for its very being; we know that the world's hope lies in this nation, and that it has the power to reveal the Divine dimension of life. Nevertheless, we do not say that everything Israel does is good; our love is not blind, but is rather clear and open-eyed and sees the problems and everything that needs to be fixed most clearly – yet the love persists.

Perhaps this is another meaning to the phrase Ahavat Chinam, which literally means "love for nothing" and which we are bidden to feel. That is, Ahavat Chinam stems not from open and revealed reasons, but rather seemingly from no reasons at all. In truth, this love is an expression of an inner grace that connects between the lover and the beloved, between each one of us and Am Yisrael.

In order to be precise, we must clarify that this love is not only for Israel. As opposed to other nations, whose self-love is liable to be a cause for apathy or even deep hatred for others, as we experienced in Europe eight decades ago – in Klal Yisrael, this is not the case. With us, our Ahavat Yisrael stems from the blessing that our nation is able to bring upon the entire world. This means that our love for Israel and hatred for others cannot co-exist. Rav Kook writes in Orot Yisrael most unequivocally:

"Ahavat Yisrael requires love for all people; when it leads to hatred for others, this is a sign that our soul has not yet been totally purified of its filth, and can therefore not yet commune in the delight of the supreme level of love."

Given that Ahavat Yisrael is such a fundamental concept in our tradition, the question arises of its own: How is it that infighting and even hatred have played such a painful role in our history? It began with Joseph and his brothers, and then continued with the tragic national split into two kingdoms, Israel and Judea. And it continues this very day with various manifestations of "causeless hatred." What is the source of this evil force, and how can we uplift it for good?

In his Ein Ayah commentary on the Aggadot in Tractate Shabbat, Rav Kook writes that precisely because of Israel's tremendous national mission, and because of its power of unity, the danger exists that the special uniqueness of each tribe, and certainly each individual, could be lost. This danger is acute, because our national success requires the participation of all the different strengths that our nation has to offer; we do not want to become a nation that obfuscates the identity of its individual parts.

Just before we became a nation, Joseph and his brothers took part in a "battle" that ultimately defined and sharpened the role of each tribe of the nation. Centuries later, during the period of Kings David and Shlomo, we were blessed to have all our forces and strengths unite under one leadership that did not blur their differences and unique identities. Most unfortunately, after Shlomo's death, under the leadership of Rehavam and Yerovam, the people of Israel were not able to understand that all of the nation's parts needed each other - and we divided into two kingdoms. However, during the period of Redemption, the tribes will again reunite (as explained at length in Rav Kook's obituary for Binyamin Zev Herzl).

The hatred that has sadly been a frequent part of our history began once again to sprout forth in our times, with our return to the Land of Israel – because it has the important task of honing our different ideas and views. This will ultimately be rectified, in that because the hatred causes each opinion in Israel to be sharpened and thoroughly refined, the end of the process will see each of the forces brought to its fulfillment – with the knowledge that its completion depends on its joining together with the other national forces in total Ahavat Yisrael.

As Rav Kook wrote: "If senseless hatred is what destroyed us, together with the world, it will be causeless love with which we will rebuild ourselves."

(originally written in 2012)

Noah and the Power of Shabbat

by Rav Yosef Naveh, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

We find that the Holy Zohar says that Noach represents the aspect of Shabbat. What does this mean? Rabbi Avraham Schorr, a prominent rabbi in Brooklyn, NY, explains in his work Lekach V'haLibuv how we can utilize the Shabbat-Noach connection to strengthen our service of G-d. 

We know that the Torah tells us, in the verse just prior to this week's Torah portion of Noach (B'reshit 6,9 – 11,32), that "Noach found favor - Hebrew: ḥen - in G-d's eyes." The same word, ḥen, is also used in the Sefer Yetzirah regarding the Shabbat.

It is taught by the righteous that just as Noach was saved from the "evil waters" of the flood by the Ark, so too, in our generation we can be saved from the flood of heresy and deception by the Ark of the Shabbat. That is, a person must sanctify and exalt the Sabbath, and recognize that it is his lifeline and anchor amidst all the challenges and tests that he faces throughout the week. 

The holy Sabbath gives every Jewish man and woman the ability and strength to overcome the various trials he faces; to install G-d as King over himself at every moment; and to serve Him in every place and every time. And thus he will find favor, ḥen, in the eyes of his Father in Heaven, as he remains in his ark, untouched by the evil waters.

The Hebrew word for "flood" is mabul, from the same root as bilbul, "confusion." Sadly, we are witness to a flood of foreign and false ideas that are introduced into our consciousness from every angle. The winds of confusion and blurring of the differences between truth and lies, between light and darkness, between Israel and the nations – blow with great strength. The danger is ever-present that a person will drown in untruths and will thus lose his share in the Eternal World. 

We are well-advised, then, to totally enter the Ark of the Sabbath, and to utilize this holy day to rest our soul, and calm and cleanse our mind.

The special quality of the Sabbath will have its effect upon whomever observes its laws in a spirit of connection and love and awe of G-d. This will help grant him protection from the "evil inclination" throughout the days following the Sabbath. 

Noach and his family were told to "come into the Ark" (7,1) – and we too must enter, during the week, the atmosphere of the Ark that we built on the Sabbath day. We must remember during the week the light of the Sabbath, in order to bring upon us vitality, renewal, and connection to the potion of life. 

During the week, we are faced with the danger of falling into the "flood" of heresy and physical lusts – and this is why we must take with us during those weekdays the light and holiness of the Sabbath, and remember the Divine ideal to which we belong and for what purpose we have been placed in this world. 

What is the significance of ḥen, favor or grace? 

Rabbi Yaakov Moshe Charlop (d. 1951), a close student and colleague of Rav Kook, explained in his work Mei Marom (on prayer) the difference between external beauty, known as yofi, and inward beauty, known as ḥen. 

On the holy Sabbath, the splendor and beauty of Creation – i.e., the Nation of Israel – is revealed, in accordance with one of the Medrashic interpretations of the first verse of the Torah: 

"B'reishit bara Elokim" – For the sake of the reishit, the beginning - namely, Israel - G-d created the world. (Vayikra Rabba 36,4)

We, Israel, are unique in our understanding that there is a deep purpose and meaning for all of creation even in our physical pursuits. We note how everything in the world has an inner and hidden intention, through which we can serve G-d and fulfill His will.

This is the special ḥen that Israel has, but which the nations of the world do not – because the nations either separate themselves totally from everything material, or they go to the other extreme and sink themselves totally into the physical pleasures of This World. 

Only we, the Nation of Israel, have the special ability to find the right balance between materialism and spirituality – and this is our glory that gives us the front-running role among all the other peoples: We serve G-d in every aspect of life. As is written: "Know G-d in all your ways" (Proverbs 3,6).

The Sages (Tanna D'vei Eliyahu Rabba) teaches that we must "make the Sabbath entirely of Torah." Perhaps this means that one should study Torah the entire Sabbath day – but it can also be explained to mean that the power of the Sabbath is that it can enable man to sanctify even that which is physical; all of his deeds, both physical and spiritual, will be of Torah. 

And therefore we are bidden to enjoy the holy Sabbath day physically as well, such as with plentiful food and drink – for everything is uplifted in sanctity on this day. As we recite in our blessings, "Everything was created for His honor."

Emuna: A Good Time to Root Out Social Media Slander

by Rav Haggai Londin, yeshiva.co, translated by Hillel Fendel. 

Wartime is a good opportunity to improve our character. For instance, how can we put into practice the principles of the Chafetz Chaim against slander and evil speech in the world of social media and modern communications?

It's a bit awkward to speak about the issue of lashon hara – gossip, slander, spreading defamatory rumors, and the like – in this era of internet and social media. At a time when a simple X-tweet can turn into lashon hara on a worldwide scale within moments, we may be inclined to think that trying to place limitations on our speech is simply a war lost in advance.

The Halakhic definition of the prohibition against lashon hara is simple: One is forbidden to speak negatively about a person – even if true – unless some worthy benefit can be gained therefrom. Our Sages view lashon hara as one of the most severe prohibitions, because it mars our most important and exalted ability: the capacity of speech. 

Speech, in the Torah view, is not just a technical means of communication between people. It is rather the primary tool by which a human being can express his inner world, and thus essentially define himself. Rabbi Onkelos, who translated the Torah into Aramaic some two millennia ago, translated the words "the [newly-created] man became a living soul" (B'reshit 2,7) as, "the soul in man became a speaking spirit." That is, speech is the definition of the living soul of man. 

When a person speaks, he expresses his spiritual world and brings to actuality its potential. As a result, a large part of one's spiritual identity is directly dependent on the manner in which he speaks. When he speaks negatively about someone else (if not to warn of harm that person is liable to cause), this causes him to position his personality on the negative side of life. The ramifications thereof touch on all aspects of life: focusing on the bad, being over-critical, and estrangement from his environment.

The study of the laws of forbidden speech received a great boost precisely 150 years ago, when R. Yisrael Meir HaCohen of the city of Radin first published his Halakhic-ethical work Chafetz Chaim. He gave it this name, which means "desirous of life," because of the verse: "Who is the man who desires life… Guard your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking deception" (Psalms 34,13-14). This work, which quickly became a classic in the Jewish world, deals with specific details of what may and may not be said, under what circumstances, how to avoid this harmful sin, and why it is so socially and spiritually harmful.

As expected, the book deals with local lashon hara issues, such as family and neighborhood gossip. Newspapers were distributed in a limited manner at the time, and are dealt with in the work accordingly. But today, the rules of the game have changed unrecognizably, as modern communications and media have taken over our world. TV, internet, smartphones, social media – all these have multiplied infinitely our accessibility to lashon hara, thus gravely worsening the damage it can cause. 

Solutions

We can deal with this spiritual threat in several ways, simultaneously. First, the Torah world is called upon to develop a multi-faceted approach – Halakhically and otherwise – to deal with the new reality. For example, we must find the right balance between the values of the lashon hara prohibition, on the one hand, and the need to constructively criticize public bodies and personages; the media, for better and worse, currently serves as one of the main tools by which we can call out public corruption. 

Secondly, we must try to act on the governmental level, via the formulation of an ethical code for the media and other bodies. 

Thirdly, even though the public expanse today is controlled by the media, the personal expanse is still under our own control, and we have the ability to shape it via our Free Choice. The ability to stay away from large doses of "media" – and certainly to ensure that we are not addicted to it – is one of the main ethical tests facing one who wishes to develop his full potential. Yes, there is a minimal reasonable level of exposure to the internet and social media that one is required to have so that he can live functionally in his society. But every unnecessary second that one spends in this media swamp of small-mindedness, negativity and unending blabber is harmful.

We can be comforted somewhat by the fact that the power of the electronic media is actually not as strong as it may appear. It is precisely because of its accessibility, its frenzied nature, and the inconceivable amount of information that it offers, that its influence is waning. The soul of post-modern man has become worn out from all the non-stop talk. In the past we said that newspapers were of value for one day only and the next day would be used to wrap fish – but today, in the age of electronic communication, they can't even be used for that. The scandals that so agitate the web fade into oblivion within a few hours, and in any case are paid short shrift by thinking persons. This is evident, for example, in the lack of attention paid of late to talkbacks, as their shallowness, cheapness and even violence have rendered them quite irrelevant. 

In any case, building a culture of talk that emphasizes the positive and strengthens that which unites us over that which divides us is our personal and national mission.

In Kohelet we read: "There is no advantage to the person who speaks" (10,11). The Sages of the Talmud (Taanit 8a) understand this as asking a puzzling question: What advantage does a person possibly receive from speaking lashon hara? If we are fair and honest with ourselves, we would answer those Sages that we actually derive great enjoyment from slandering others. But our Sages are telling us clearly: "If so, go find yourselves other less harmful ways to have fun."

Breishit: Cain and Abel - No Room for Civil War

by Rav David Stav, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

One of the most fascinating educational challenges facing every parent who wishes to teach Torah to his children is how to present the stories of brotherly rivalry and fighting in the Book of Genesis. Children learning Genesis for the first time are generally not old enough to have ever been exposed to the idea of murder – and certainly not between brothers! For them, close family is supposed to be their most protective, safe and secure environment. Parents go to all lengths to settle fights in the home, to teach their children to compromise and sometimes give in – and suddenly they find themselves having to explain, in the framework of Torah study, that Cain has murdered his brother Abel, because of some fight whose details are not explained. 

We can of course just skip over this story and let the children discover it when they're a bit older. But what about the story of the sale of Joseph, and the other sad stories of brotherly hatred? We can't skip over all of them! Our working assumption has to be that G-d's word was spoken to, and meant for, all of us, young and old alike. We must therefore uncover the message and teaching that the Torah wishes to transmit to us in these difficult stories, and especially in Cain's murder of his own brother. 

The Torah provides us with some background to this story: Cain felt that he had been treated unfairly compared to his younger brother, in that Abel's sacrifice was Divinely accepted and his own was rejected. It's important to note that the Torah tells us that it was Cain who initiated the sacrifices: "Cain brought of the crops as an offering to G-d; Abel also offered from the first-born of his flock…" (4,3-4). G-d accepted Abel's offering and not that of Cain, who became very angry, and did not calm down even after G-d sought to appease him. And then we reach this intriguing verse: "Cain said to his brother Abel, and when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel and killed him" (verse 8). The verse doesn't tell us what Cain said to Abel! Nor does it say what the latter answered him, if at all. 

The number of answers given to these questions, it seems, can compete easily with the number of explanations for Moshe Rabbeinu's sin when he hit the rock…

One Medrashic proposal is that Cain and Abel were arguing over how to divide the world between them after their parents' demise; another one is that the issue was whose area would house the Beit HaMikdash; and still another is that the fight was who would get to marry their mother after their father passed. The common denominator of these and other suggested explanations is that they have absolutely no support from the verses. 

The famed Nechama Liebowitz, a great Bible teacher in Jerusalem who died in 1997, saw the above explanations as attempts to explain not these verses, but rather the very nature of strife and dissention in the world. 

Yet it appears that the most essential point here is the very fact that the Torah tells us nothing at all about the argument between them, or if there even was one. Not only that, it looks like the Torah clearly cut off Cain in the middle of his words: "Cain said to his brother Abel"  – what did he say? We wait to hear what was said and what happened, but we then see that we have been clearly shut out.

And that itself is the message: The Torah does not want to get involved in the details of the argument between them. It is telling us that it doesn't even matter what they said to each other, and what they were or weren't arguing about. The bottom line is that there were two brothers and one killed the other. People can argue about the gravest and most important issues, and they can be perfectly justified in feeling jealousy or discrimination. But even such justified feelings cannot justify brotherly murder. 

And when we realize that Cain was no regular Joe – he was actually a prophet, it would seem, for he merited to speak directly with G-d – the message cries out even more strongly: Even a prophet may not take his brother's life.

The 19th-century commentator Malbim suggests that Cain was sure, based on G-d's words of comfort to him in the previous verse, that the right thing to do was to kill Abel. Accordingly, the first murder in history stemmed from a misunderstanding of G-d's words! That is, Cain carried out this murder "for the sake of Heaven," and not out of jealousy or any other base feeling. If we assume that every "first" in the Torah has a meaning that truly indicates the roots of the phenomenon in question, we learn from here a tremendous lesson:

When one brother strikes another, both sides believe they are acting for the sake of Heaven – and this is perhaps the worst danger of all. The most dangerous brotherly disputes are when they are accompanied by the conviction that they are what G-d wants. The same happened when the brothers sold Joseph: They were convinced that Joseph was a downright spiritual danger to the entire nation.

As R. Yonasan Eybeschutz (18th century) wrote in his Yaarot Dvash, "Aside from the disagreements between Hillel and Shammai, no other argument is truly for the sake of Heaven – because even when that element exists, the Sitra Achra also has a part in it, and it will end up bad… It is the way of the Evil Inclination to say that everything is for the sake of Heaven, thus misleading a person in all his ways." 

Rav Tzadok HaCohen of Lublin (d. 1900) wrote slightly differently in Pri Tzaddik: "A dispute for the sake of Heaven is only when the disputants behave with affection and friendship towards each other; but if there is strife, then even if the dispute is for the existence of the world, it does not have the 'light of goodness.'"

Nowadays, it is very hard to find an argument that is for the sake of Heaven, as even legitimate and important disagreements very quickly turn into insults and worse – certainly not in line with the above thoughts by Rav Tzadok and Rav Eybeschutz. Every year, when we read of the murder in Parashat B'reshit, our failures to wage peaceful disputes echo around us. 

My late father used to quote the previous Belzer Rebbe, Reb Aharon, when he heard one of this followers say, "It is a mitzvah to curse" a particular Jew because of certain terrible things he did. The Rebbe said, "A mitzvah? There are some mitzvot that one need not fulfill so carefully." And when one man told that it was an actual sin to help certain people, he would say, "There are some sins that one is allowed to commit once in a while – and may our sins be in having too much baseless love, and not hatred and quarreling."

Simchat Torah: The Wars of the Peaceful Levites

adapted from an article by Rav Moshe Tzuriel ZTz"L, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The time-honored custom among the Jewish People is to publicly read aloud the final Torah portion, Parashat V'zot HaBracha (Deut. 33,1-34,12), not on a particular Sabbath, as all the other portions, but on the holiday of Shmini Azeret/Simchat Torah. (This year, this festival falls out on Sabbath, this very week.) 

With all the excitement and great joy at completing the annual Torah cycle, accompanied by singing and dancing, not everyone gets the chance to study this portion as they do the other portions. Let us therefore discuss one particular verse, which appears at first glance a bit hard to understand. It is part of Moshe Rabbeinu's parting blessing to the Tribe of Levy: "May he smash the loins of those who rise up against him, so that his enemies rise no more" (Deut. 33,11). Our question is: When did Levy participate in a war? The Rambam (Laws of Shmittah 13,12) that the Levites are separated from the "ways of the world" and do not wage war or even inherit like the rest of Israel. They were consecrated for prayer and Torah study, and did not engage in battle. What then was Moshe referring to in this blessing?

The Sforno explains that the verse is referring to the Levites' "battle" against those who wished to take over the Priests' Temple service, such as during the "battles" of Korach and King Uziyahu. This does not appear to jibe with the straightforward explanation of the verse, however. 

HaRav Kook explains that the Levites took part in wars outside the Land of Israel, as the Rambam himself states (ibid., 11). They also took part in defensive wars, as Rashi to this verse explains, citing the example of the Hasmoneans [of the Tribe of Levy] who fought against the Greeks and the Hellenists. 

It occurred to me to explain that the Levites' wars were against the heretics of Israel, especially those who worshiped the Golden Calf. When Moshe declared war on them, the Levites gathered together to the cause (see Sh'mot 32,26). In his final blessing to Levy, Moshe stated, "He said of his father and mother, 'I do not see them,' not recognizing brother or child" – meaning that the Levites fought against these people as well. Rashi explains that this refers to unrelated family members, such as stepbrothers, stepchildren, or even maternal grandfathers. The only reason the Levites were able to fight and kill them was because of their sin of heresy with the Golden Calf – just weeks after the Torah was given! – which disqualified them from membership in the Israelite nation. 

Clearly this was a dangerous task for the Levites, for the heretics certainly fought back and sought to kill them. The verse therefore continues, "May he smash the loins of those who rise up against them, and his enemies will rise no more."  The word used here for "enemies" is as in Psalms 139,21, where it refers to those who rebel against G-d – and here as well. 

We find another case where the Levites were willing to wage war for G-d's honor. The Jerusalem Talmud (Sotah, end of Chapter 1) states that there appears to be contradictory verses as to where Aharon HaCohen died – in Moserot, or in Hor HaHar? The Talmud explains that when Aharon died, the Clouds of Glory left the Israelites, and the Canaanites saw an opening to threaten them. They therefore reversed course away from the Land of Israel and sought to return to Egypt. They reached Moserot, where the Levites caught up with them and killed eight families, losing four families themselves in the battle. The Israelites asked themselves: "What has caused such loss of life among us?" And they answered that it was because they hadn't shown honor to Aharon upon his death [in Hor Hahar], and so they made a special memorial and eulogy for him there [in Moserot], and so it was as if he had died there.

But, we ask: Why did the eight families deserve to be killed by the Levites? After all, they were running away in fear of the Canaanites!

Actually, we find in the Torah capital punishment for those who refuse to inherit and settle in the Land. The Torah tells us that during the Exodus, only one-fifth of the Jews left (Sh'mot 13,18) – and Rashi explains (there, and Sh'mot 10,22) that the other 4/5 died during the plague of Darkness, because "they were wicked and did not want to leave Egypt." Yes, they were righteous in not assimilating into Egyptian culture in other ways – but they were lacking the sense of sacrifice necessary to come to the Holy Land and take it over from its hostile populace. We thus see that the refusal to accept the Divine gift of Eretz Yisrael is a form of rebellion against G-d, rendering them liable to death! 

In addition, when the people chose the Spies' appraisal of the Land and did not want to enter, they were told, "Do not rebel against G-d [in this way]!" (Bamidbar 14,9) For only in the Holy Land do we truly accept G-d's kingship. And as the Gemara states (Ketuvot 110b): "Whoever leaves the Land, it is as if he has no G-d." Such a sin is clearly a capital one, deserving of the death penalty. The entire generation of the Desert thus died in the desert – except for the Levites, who did not take part in the Sin of the Spies. 

… 

The blessing to Levy states further: "They [the Levites] kept Your [G-d's] word, and safeguarded Your covenant."  The Talmud states (Yevamot 72a) that the Levites were the only ones to fulfill the commandment of ritual circumcision in the Desert; the others feared the danger of the great heat and the lack of a north wind. Thus, the Levites were totally dedicated to G-d's word. 

For other examples of the Tribe of Levy's ultimate dedication to G-d, see our work Otzrot HaMussar, I, p. 662-4; here we simply explained the examples of such that can be derived from the blessing of Moshe to Levy.

V'Zot HaBracha: The Link Between the First and Last Verses of the Torah

by Rav David Dov Levanon, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Just as in the Kabbalah, the highest and lowest levels are connected, the Medrash teaches the same regarding the first and last verses of the Torah. We know that the Torah begins with, "In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth," and ends with, "[G-d's] mighty hand and great sights that Moshe wrought [miraculously] before the eyes of all Israel." When we seek the connection between them, it is clear: The end of the Torah teaches that the entire purpose of Creation is that the Torah should be brought down to earth and be revealed in This World in a way that Israel can see.

G-d, as well, so to speak, descended from His Throne above to create the world, as the Medrash teaches, "He desired to have a dwelling place in the lower worlds."

And Moshe Rabbeinu, the "man of G-d" (Deut. 33,1), who attained the summit of prophecy, also bridged between the Heavenly and the earthly: "No other prophet arose in Israel like Moshe, whom G-d knew face to face" (verse 10). On the one hand, he was exalted like an angel, but his entire desire was to enter the Land – and although this was not granted, he merited on the day of his death to partially fulfill this desire when G-d showed him the entire Land (Deut. 34,1). 

The Talmudic Sages ask: "Why did Moshe so long to enter the Land of Israel? Did he simply want to enjoy its fruits? Not at all; he knew that many Torah commandments apply only in the land, and so he wanted to enter the Land to fulfill them…" And still: not that Moshe wanted reward for his deeds, other than the fact that "the reward for a mitzvah is another mitzvah (Pirkei Avot 4,2);" he simply wanted to fulfill his life task, namely, to bring the Torah down to This World, to the Land of Israel where the mitzvot are fulfilled in actuality.

The Gemara says that Moshe was rewarded for his selfless dedication to Israel, literally giving his life for them. That is, he was not rewarded for his great Torah knowledge and study, nor for his prophecy – but rather measure for measure: He understood that his purpose was to give himself on behalf of Israel, and therefore he merited to bring down the Torah to the point where he saw its completion in Eretz Yisrael. 

On a slightly deeper level, we can derive this concept from Rashi's last words in his commentary to the Torah: "Moshe's heart raised him to break the Tablets before the eyes of Israel… and G-d agreed with him and endorsed this action." But – what was so "heart raising" about breaking the Tablets? The answer is that it was done for Israel's sake, and this shows his great love – a raised heart – for Israel!

Back to the first verse of the Torah: "In the beginning" – can literally mean "for the beginning," and this has several meanings: The 'beginning' (reishit) can be Torah, and it can be Israel. The Medrash (Kohelet Rabba 1,4) explains which of these beginnings come first: "The Torah was created for the sake of Israel, and will therefore exist forever – and Israel which was created for its sake, all the more so!"

This concept of Israel's greatness that we learn from the end of the Torah can also be learned from the very holiday that we will be celebrating at the end of this week: Shmini Atzeret, the day on which we end the public weekly readings of the Torah. Rabbeinu Bachye explains that both Shavuot (the day of the Giving of the Torah) and Shmini Atzeret (the day on which we conclude its reading) are called Atzeret, which stems from the root meaning "to stop." As follows:

On Shmini Atzeret, immediately after Sukkot, the Divine Presence "stops" especially for Israel; on the previous days of Sukkot, G-d received offerings for all the nations, while Shmini Atzeret is a festival just for Israel. And on Shavuot, Israel "stopped" [in the middle of several months of no holidays] to receive the Torah and study it and accept G-d's kingship and decrees. 

Thus, on the Atzeret of the receiving of the Torah, we accepted G-d upon us as our King, and on Shimini Atzeret, G-d made us into kings. 

Another Medrash (Yalkut Shimoni, D'varim 833) says that on Shavuot, we received the mitzvah of Kriat Shma in which we accepted G-d upon us – while on Shmini Atzeret, G-d made us the king among all the nations, as above, and in accordance with the verse, "Who is like Your nation Israel, one nation in the land" (Chronicles I 17,21).

This verse is not only praise for Israel, but even for G-d Himself, as written in the following difficult Talmudic passage: 

What is written in the tefillin of the Master of the Universe? "Who is like Your nation Israel, one nation in the land." Can it be that G-d is praised from Israel's praise? Yes, as written (Deut. 26,17-18): "You have raised up G-d… And G-d has similarly raised you up…"  

The upshot is that we must accept upon ourselves the yoke of Torah, and learn from the attributes of the Holy One, Blessed be He, Who descended from a high place to a low place to dwell below. We too must strive to live our lives striving to do good for others, thinking how we can contribute to the community, how we can be loyal emissaries to rectify the world for G-d's Kingdom – and then we will merit that G-d will grant us strength and the ability to succeed, and He will grant kingdom to Israel: "Who is like Your people Israel, one nation in the land."