Toldot: Matriarch Rivka's Heroism - Combining Strengths

by Rav Yitzchak Zaga, Beit HaRav Kook, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

In this week's Torah portion of Toldot (B'reshit 25,19 – 28,9), we read of the birth of the twins Yaakov and Esav to our Patriarch Yitzchak and Matriarch Rivka, and the story of the "stolen" blessings. A deep reading of the portion also shows us the might and heroism of Rivka, as shown in her proactive role in ensuring that the blessings are delivered to their proper address, namely, Yaakov.

It is well known that the primary trait of our Forefather Avraham is Chessed (lovingkindness), and that of Yitzchak Avinu is G'vurah (strength, bold force). The G'vurah of Yitzchak comes to actualize and give practical expression to Avraham’s trait of Chessed; so writes the holy saintly HaRav A. I. Kook. (Though Rav Kook died in 1933, his legacy of Torah leadership lives on in very wide circles of religious Jewry in Israel, and abroad, today.)

When we speak of G'vurah, we note that in the realm of concrete action, it has two levels: that of Yitzchak, and that of his wife Rivka.

The Rav writes (in Shmoneh Kvatzim 6,163): "It must necessarily be that everything that disturbs the light of great Chessed from appearing in the world must be expelled, neutralized, and nullified with all strength." This means, perhaps unintuitively, that it is precisely because of Avraham's trait of great kindness that we know that whatever seeks to prevent the great light of Divine kindness from spreading throughout Creation must be forcefully deleted and removed.

Rav Kook continues: "The validity of this Divine kindness shines with the glory of the Heavenly G'vurah – the G'vurah of Yitzchak." That is, the divine Chessed that shone in Avraham is gloriously revealed in the Heavenly G'vurah of Yitzchak, because "the world of action and doing is not appropriate for him [Yitzchak]." That is to say, the revelation of Yitzchak's G'vurah is not enough – because it is merely a relative revelation found on a high spiritual level, but one that is not sufficiently practical to be able to wisely actualize things on an appropriate level for this world of action. This work that must be done requires, also, the power to negate anything that mars the revelation of the Chessed.

Rav Kook's words continue: "But it must connect and unite with a weaker life-shine – one that is still full of strength and solid Divine will that can stand before anything that would negate it – but it is initially derived from the will of evil and brazen people, even if it was later purified … In Rivka – our holy Matriarch who was descended of Betuel from Padan Aram and was the sister of the wicked Aramite Lavan – we find practical Chessed in the framework of practical G'vurah, and not of abstract idealism."

This difficult passage means that one of the two forms of G'vurah brings out the best of the other. The G'vurah of Yitzchak must necessarily link up with that of Rivka, which is full of iron will – a force that can withstand anything that will block the light of Divine Chessed from appearing in the world. The source of this G'vurah originates, it is true, precisely from the aggressiveness of the wicked ones, Betuel and Lavan. But it is fundamentally a good and refined force that Rivka purifies by her good choice. And in this way, practical Chessed appears in the practical G'vurah of Rivka, which fills out the abstract, ideal G'vurah of Yitzchak.

These fundamental ideas have their effect on the practical aspects thereof, as Rav Kook continues: "This proper merging of the ideal G'vurah with the practical G'vurah – in both of which the light of Divine Chessed shines – is proper to be that which the House of Israel is established upon. As is written in Ovadiah: "The House of Yaakov will be fire, and the House of Yosef will be flames, and the house of Esav will be straw. And saviors will ascend Mt. Zion to judge the mountain of Esav, and G-d will retain the kingdom."

That is: The G'vurah of Yitzchak is idealistic and abstract, and merges with the refined G'vurah of Rivka, that which can be put into practice. In both of these, the light of Divine Chessed shines, from the source of Avraham.

The Nation of Israel is to use this cooperative venture to establish a world that has two types of work: that of building physically and that of negating that which is not-good, that which seeks to prevent the light of Chessed from shining forth. This latter is the source of that which the Prophet Ovadiah calls the "fire of Yaakov," which is manifest most fully in generation following Yaakov: his son Yosef HaTzaddik, who burns the force of Esav who battles against the shining forth of Irael's light. This is also the source of "the saviors," those who will ascend Mt. Zion to judge the mountain of Esav, and who will install G-d as King in His world.

The kindness of Avraham and Sarah is built upon the G'vurah of Yitzchak and Rivka, and is put into practice by Yaakov, Rachel, and Leah. And we, all of us, the followers of our holy Forefathers and Foremothers, must learn and adopt for ourselves their special path - including the ideal G'vurah of Yitzchak and the practical G'vurah of Rivka. We must know how to construct the great building of the nation, how to be positive - but also how to be firm against anything that hinders positivity, firmness, and the process of Israel's redemption. This, as we were privileged to see with our own eyes in the leadership of our great rabbi, son of Rav Kook, Rabbi Zvi Yehuda HaCohen Kook, of saintly blessed memory.

Vayeira: Sitting by the Tent and Hoping for Guests

by Rav Yosef Naveh, Hassidic Educator and Torah Coach, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

This week's Torah portion of Vayeira (B'reshit 18-24) begins with this verse: "G-d appeared to him [our Patriarch Avraham] in Elonei Mamre, and he was sitting at the entrance to the tent, in the heat of the day." 

R. Natan of Breslov, in Likutei Hilchot Ishut, tells us the connection between the two parts of the verse: "In order to reach the high level of 'G-d appeared to him' – i.e., perceiving Divinity and closeness to G-d – a person must pass through 'sitting at the opening to the tent in the heat of the day.'"

Let us quote his words, and then explain them:
              "… but one who does not want to fool himself, but rather thinks truly about his eternal objective, does not allow himself to ever go backwards, no matter what. He rather remains and waits at the entrance for many days – as long as it takes. And even if he is not allowed into the tent, and the heat bears down heavily upon him – even so, he does not leave his place, but rather waits there at the tent of the righteous people until G-d has mercy on him – just like Avraham sat outside the tent in the heat of the day."  

In every person’s life there are ups and downs. There are states of mohin d'gadlut, “expanded consciousness” — when everything is bright and clear in his service of G-d, and he does what is required of him freely and with joy, loving his spiritual state. But there are also states of mohin d'katnut, "constricted consciousness," when one's thoughts and urges confuse him and cast doubts even on his faith in G-d; he might actually feel that he has no place in Judaism, and wonders what meaning and value his actions have.

Indeed, in moments of mohin d’katnut, when a person feels unwanted before G-d, there is a danger that he will seek vitality and excitement outside of Torah and Judaism, imagining that there he will find meaning and light in his life.

But he must be strong and of valor: sturdy and steadfast in his mind, determined that as long as his soul is within him, he will never abandon Hashem, no matter what. For this is what measures a person’s true greatness - that even when his yetzer hara (evil inclination) overpowers him with the burning heat of lust for forbidden pastures, as in "the heat of the day,” he will not abandon his place and will not retreat. He rather continues to “sit at the entrance of the tent,” waiting and hoping for G-d's salvation.

Generally, at times of mohin d'katnut, one's yetzer hara manages to convince him that Hashem does not care about him or what he does, and doesn't need or appreciate the "unimportant" things he does. And in this way, the person is led to abandon everything – even that which he can do well.

But the S'fat Emet, the second Gerrer Rebbe, teaches us that just like Avraham sat near the tent's opening, so too "a person must leave one little point open, and through it his entire body will be drawn after this illumination." 

That is to say: Mainly during the "downs" in one's life, and during the "heat of the day," he should make sure to leave at least a little opening, a point of connection to Hashem, from which, when the time comes, he will be able to return to the holiness of Israel completely. 

An example of this is found in the life story of the Holy Rebbe Rav Yitzchak Isaac Yehuda Yechiel Safrin, Rebbe of the Komarno Hassidic dynasty in Ukraine. He wrote about his own years of tribulations until he merited to have "Vayera," i.e., "G-d appeared to him." He wrote as follows: 

“This poor, afflicted man [myself] — a lowly and dark creature, trampled underfoot. ‘A thousand tastes of death’ I tasted in this world, and many troubles, poverty, humiliation, pain, and exile – I became like dust to be trodden upon… Know that everything you are about to read in my writings came only after years of toil and struggle. And only because I held firm did I merit what I merited."

And he continues: 

“[Finally] the heavens were opened for me, granting me a tremendous comprehension of the sacred unifications and the secrets of the Torah, to elucidate its mysteries and commandments. G-d in His mercy and kindness shines upon me from His light, His radiance, and His splendor of Torah and mitzvot — a truly wondrous light, a taste of the World to Come, beyond measure or description — to the point that I have become truly a new being. The tefillin shine upon me like the light of the seven days of Creation, I no longer feel any worldly sensation, and my mind has expanded with a joyful heart.”

[Ed. note: The message is thus: No matter how down you might feel, spiritually or otherwise, always remember to keep even a little window open to the joyous, uplifting possibilities that are always there. Do one mitzvah a day, keep one good friend who can influence you positively, keep positive thoughts always on hand – and when the time comes, they will help you return to your soul and to G-d."

Lech Lecha: How Can a Philosopher Become a Kabbalist?

by Rav Netanel Yosifun, Rosh Yeshiva, Yeshivat Orot Netanya, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Shavuot night, sometime around the expulsion from Spain ( ~ 1492):

In those days, the custom of Tikun Leil Shavuot had not yet become prevalent. This practice involves remaining awake the entire night of the Shavuot holiday [which commemorates Israel's acceptance of the Torah at Mt. Sinai] and reciting excerpts from every Biblical chapter, as well as other Jewish texts.

But behold, a small group of sages and pious individuals had begun to take shape, among them Rabbi Yosef Karo, author of the Shulchan Arukh, and Rabbi Shlomo Alkabetz, composer of Lekha Dodi. On this Shavuot night, they decide to stay awake on the night of Shavuot, studying according to the order of the Tikkun. Suddenly, in the midst of this special Tikkun, a surprising and wondrous event occurs, the impact of which is felt to this very day.

And so recounted R. Shlomo Alkabetz:

"We were reading the verses… with fear and awe, with melody and cantillation… and then, as we began to learn the Mishna, our Creator granted us the privilege of hearing the Voice speaking from the mouth of the great pious man [R. Yosef Karo], a loud and clear voice...  We fell on our faces, and no spirit was left within [us]… And the voice said as follows:

'My beloved friends, peace upon you… Go to live in the Land of Israel! Do not worry about your possessions, for you will eat of the goodness of the Upper Land – and if you hearken to me, you will eat the goodness of that land, so therefore make haste and go up to the Land…'"

This is a very rare account of the Heavenly Maggid - R. Karo's Divine mentor who taught him the secrets of Torah and ethical living, in the period of the Exile. This description by R. Alkabetz is familiar to many because of its depiction of the virtues of Torah study on the night of Shavuot – but very few notice that already in this first revelation, Rabbis Karo and Alkabetz and their group are instructed to ascend to the Land of Israel! And indeed, they do go to the Land, where Rabbi Yosef Karo merits to complete his great works, such as the Beit Yosef, Kesef Mishneh, and Shulchan Arukh, and becomes the “master rabbi of the Land of Israel.”

If we delve a bit more into this point, we will discover that over the course of the generations of the Exile, when only a small portion of the nation of Israel was in the Land, still, many of the main Torah giants made Aliyah - or tried to do so - to Eretz Yisrael. And it was especially those who were leading giants in the study of Kabbalah who made Aliyah, and many of them merited to receive Divine revelations: Nachmanides, the holy Arizal, the Ramak, the holy Rashash, the holy Ohr HaChaim, the Baal Shem Tov, the Ramchal, the Vilna Gaon, Rabbe Nachman of Breslov, HaRav Kook, the Baal HaLeshem, and very many others.

This must be understood: Why is it that specifically the Divine revelations are linked with Eretz Yisrael?

The answer begins in our weekly portion of Lekh Lekha (B'reshit 12-17), where G-d commands our Patriarch Avraham: "Go… to the Land that I will show you" (12,1). The Torah tells us that Avraham was 75 years old at the time, but tells us nothing else of his life until then. But that which the Torah conceals from us is revealed by our Sages and the Rambam. The latter explains (in the beginning of the Laws of Avodah Zarah) that in those years people worshiped idols, and “there was no one who recognized or knew G-d, except for a few individuals such as Hanokh, Metushelah, Noah, Shem, and Ever. And the world continued along in this manner, until was born the pillar of the world: our father Avraham.”

The Rambam continues on to say that as a child, Avraham began to think and wonder, night and day, "how is it possible for the sphere [universe] to continue to revolve without anyone controlling it? Who is causing it to revolve? Surely it does not revolve itself! He had no teacher; he was mired in Ur Kasdim among the foolish idolaters… But he continued to explore and gain understanding, until he realized that there was one G-d who controlled the sphere and created everything…"

From this description we understand that Avraham Avinu did not receive his faith and belief in G-d as a tradition from his parents. He rather attained it totally on his own, after deep thought and investigation. In short, he was a "Divine Philosopher."

However, the Medrash tells us a different story – namely, that Avraham concluded with finality that there was a Creator only after He actually revealed Himself to him. The Medrash states: "What happened is likened to a wayfarer on his travels who once saw a brightly lit palace. He wondered: 'Can this palace possibly exist without an owner [or operator]?' The owner then revealed himself to him and said, 'I am the owner.' Similarly, Avraham wondered: 'Is it possible for the world to exist without a leader?' G-d then revealed Himself to him: "G-d said to Avram, go ye to the Land that I will show you…"

The Rambam said that Avraham discovered G-d after his own research, and the Medrash said that G-d revealed Himself to him. Are these two accounts contradictory? Was Avraham a Divine philosopher, or was he a Kabbalist-like prophet who merited Divine revelation?

The answer appears in the Medrash. Avraham in fact started off as a philosopher, asking and searching: "Who's in charge here?" He concluded that there is certainly a Creator, but he then discovered the complete truth of the matter when G-d revealed Himself and spoke to him.

And this discovery means immediate Aliyah to the Land of Israel. As we read in the Kuzari (2,14): "All the prophets prophesied only in or for the Land of Israel. For instance, Avraham received prophecy so that he would go to the Land [i.e., this was the first thing that G-d told him]."

Outside the Land, one can come to a knowledge of G-d with one's intellect or via research – but one who wants to truly experience Divine revelation has to make Aliyah to Eretz Yisrael!

Noah: Keeping Kosher on the Ark – and in the Holy Land

by Rav Hillel Fendel.

This week's Torah portion of Noah (B'reshit 6,9 - 11,32) is a fine opportunity to learn a bit about some of the laws of kashrut. How so?

We know that Noah was originally commanded to bring “two of every kind of every living thing of all flesh” (6,19). However, as Rashi explains, what this meant was at least two, and possibly more – for shortly afterwards we read that G-d told Noah: “Of every animal take with you seven, and of every animal that is not pure, take two…" (7,2)

How was Noah to know what rendered an animal pure or impure? Again, Rashi explains: A pure animal is “one that is destined to be pure for Israel.” In short: a kosher animal.

And what makes a kosher animal? In Parashat Sh'mini the Torah tells us (Vayikra 11,2): “Every animal that has a split hoof, completely divided, and that chews the cud - that animal you may eat.”

For one thing, as Rashi further tells us, this shows that Noah was taught at least some laws of the Torah, nearly 800 years before it was given to Israel. That is, he was taught which animals were kosher, to be saved in groups of seven, and which were not kosher and should be saved only in pairs. The intention was that there would be more kosher animals than impure: three pairs that would reproduce, and one individual to be brought as a sacrificial offering to G-d after the Flood.

Regarding these signs that Noah was taught, and which we later learned in the Torah (Vayikra 11,2), there appear to be three: mafris parsah, shosaat shesa, and maaleh gera. However, in fact the second term is an elaboration of the first, and it means that the hoof - a kind of thick nail on the animal’s foot, helping it climb rocky terrain safely - must be split all the way through. A camel, for instance, has a partially split hoof, but because it is not split all the way up, it lacks this kosher sign and is in fact not kosher.

The second sign, chewing the cud, is that the animal regurgitates partially digested food from its stomach in order to re-chew it; this aids digestion.

The Shulchan Aruch rules that there is an additional identifying sign: the animal must not have upper teeth. This is based on a Rabbinic tradition.

 The Ramban, Rabbeinu Bachye, and others wrote that pure mammals are herbivores and have gentle temperaments, whereas impure ones are predators and aggressive.

“And since the food a person eats influences his soul, the Torah commanded us not to eat species that are inclined toward cruelty,” summarized Rabbi Eliezer Melamed, Rosh Yeshivat Har Bracha in the Shomron (Samaria) region of Israel.

 The two signs we mentioned indeed relate to the kind of food these animals eat: grass and plants contain much cellulose, which is hard to digest – such that chewing the cud allows for repeated chewing to improve digestion. And the split hooves allow climbing on rocks and steep hillsides to reach the necessary grass.

It is important to note the following sign of the Divinity of the Torah: The Torah mentions exactly four species that have exactly one of these two signs: the camel, the hyrax, and the hare (which only chew the cud), and the pig (which only has split hooves). And indeed, no animal other than these has ever been discovered with only one of the two signs.

Walking in the Wilderness
This fact leads to the following fascinating Halakhah [Jewish law], as ruled in the Shulchan Aruch (Yoreh Deah 79,1):

“If someone finds an animal in the wilderness and does not recognize it, yet he knows that it is not a camel, and that it chews its cud, and it is impossible to check its hooves – he should check whether it has teeth in the upper jaw. If it does not, it is known to be a kosher animal. Similarly, if one finds an animal and it is impossible to determine whether it chews the cud, he should examine its feet: if its hooves are split, it is known to be kosher, provided that he recognizes that it is not a pig.”

That is to say: If the animal has one sign, and we cannot know if it has the other sign, and we know that it is not a pig or another of the four animals that have only one sign – then it is kosher, provided it also has the Rabbinic sign of no upper teeth.

Behind the Scenes
We know that we cannot ascertain absolute reasons for many of the Torah's commandments, especially those that are chukim, seemingly incomprehensible statutes. However, we can still derive values and meanings from many of the mitzvot. Rav Melamed, for instance, comments that the most important principle regarding chukim is that they distinguish between the Jewish Nation and the other peoples. G-d first created many different animals, and permitted them to be eaten by all – but He then separated us from the other nations (as we say in the Havdalah blessing), and sanctified us with His mitzvot. That is, He permitted us to eat only the "pure" animals and forbade us those that are impure.

 This is summed up in the following Torah passage from Parashat Kedoshim (Vayikra 20, 23-26):

"You shall not follow the practices of the nation that I am driving out [from the Holy Land] before you, for they committed all these [sins]… You shall take over their land, and I shall give it to you to possess it - a Land flowing with milk and honey. I am the Lord your God, Who has distinguished you from the peoples. And you shall distinguish between pure animals and impure ones… And you shall be holy to Me, for I, the Lord, am holy, and I have distinguished you from the peoples, to be Mine."

Thus, we may sum up as follows:
The laws of kashrut return us full-circle to the fact that we are a holy and distinguished nation, and have been given the Holy Land in which to fully manifest our sanctified peoplehood.

Breishit: Creation - Not Just a Story, but Testimony

by Rav Hillel Fendel.

This week's Torah portion of B'reshit, with which the Torah begins, tells the story of the Divine creation of the world. The story is capped by a three-verse passage known by its first word, Vay'khulu, which tells us the origin of the holy Sabbath day: "The heavens and the earth were completed… G-d completed His work on the seventh day, and abstained from all His work, and blessed the seventh day and hallowed it…" (B'reshit 2,1-3).

We recite this short passage three times on Sabbath eve (Friday night): Once in the evening Amidah prayer, once right after it, and again during the Kiddush at home. All three of these are said while standing [including Kiddush, according to most customs], as the 14^th-century scholar Avudraham wrote: "[It] is said loudly and while standing, because it is edut, testimony that G-d created the heavens and the earth in six days and rested on the seventh day, and testimony must be said while standing." [See Siftei Cohen to Sh. Ar. Choshen Mishpat 17,3.]

This raises an interesting question: When we recite Kriat Shma morning and evening, this is also considered edut: We are testifying that G-d is One, that He is our G-d, and that we are His nation. A strong allusion to this is found in the fact that in the Torah (Deut. 6,4), where we read Shma Yisrael, "Hear O Israel," the last letter of the word Shma, and the last letter of the word Echad (One), are both larger than all the other letters – and these two letters spell ed, meaning "witness"! Yet still, we know that the law follows Beit Hillel, in that one does not need to stand for Kriat Shma! Why is this different than Vaykhulu?

Let us elaborate on the law regarding Kriat Shma. The scholars of the School of Shammai understood that when the Torah instructs us (in Deut. 6,7) to recite Shma both when we lie down and when we arise, this is meant literally: one must recite the morning Shma while standing and the evening Shma while lying down! However, the School of Hillel ruled – and this is accepted as law – that these words merely allude to "evening and morning," and that one need not physically stand for the morning Shma.

In fact, the Shulchan Arukh rules (O.C. 63,2) that "one who wishes to be stringent on himself and stand up from his sitting position for Kriat Shma, is called a violator of the Law!" The Mishna Brurah goes even further and states: "Even if he stands not because he believes the law is like Beit Shammai, but only because he wishes to arouse his feelings of concentration – he may not do so!" That is, he may stand up before saying Shma and then remain standing, but he may not stand up specifically for Kriat Shma.

Let us return to our originl question: Why must we stand for the Vaykhulu testimony regarding Creation, but not for the Kriat Shma testimony of G-d's existence? The Iyun Tfilah – author of one of the first commentaries on the prayerbook – asked this question, and did not provide an answer.

However, perhaps we can explain as follows: The two "testimonies" are fundamentally different! That of Shma Yisrael is actually a mitzvah, a positive commandment: We are instructed in the first of the Ten Commandments to know and believe that G-d is One. When we fulfill this mitzvah by reciting Shma, we are reminding ourselves to internalize these concepts that are incumbent upon us to know. It is "testimony" to ourselves!

But when we recite Vaykhulu, telling the story of G-d's creation of the world in six days and then His sanctification of the seventh day as the Sabbath, we are not commanded to do so; we are simply magnifying G-d's honor, and that of the Sabbath, before all. We are "testifying" aloud to the story of the Sabbath, and therefore we must stand, as with all testimony.

Similarly, this explains why Vaykhulu should be recited by two people together, as with all testimony, while Kriat Shma may be recited alone.

May we merit, as this new year begins, to imbue our lives with all of these fundamental concepts: the Oneness of G-d, His relationship to Israel, and the holiness of the Sabbath, leading to our personal and national obligations to participate in G-d's work to bless the Nation of Israel in the Land of Israel in the spirit of the Torah of Israel.

Nitzavim: The Love-Filled Commandment of Giving Rebuke

Based on an article by Rav Meyer Fendel.

In this week's Torah portion of Nitzavim (Deut. 29,9-30,20), Moshe Rabbeinu tells Bnei Yisrael in his parting speech as follows: "The hidden sins [of Israel] are for Hashem our G-d, but the known sins are [the responsibility of] ourselves…"  (29,28). The Talmud teaches that the dots that appear in Torah scrolls atop some of the letters in this verse indicate, according to Rabbinic tradition, that Israel was not punished for these sins until after they crossed the Jordan River into the Holy Land (see Talmud Tr. Sanhedrin 43b).

Rashi explains that the reason for the collective punishment referred to here is because of the concept of arvut: the mutual and collective responsibility of each member of Israel, one for another. It is a matter of Talmudic dispute (ibid.), however, how far this concept extends. R. Yehuda teaches that the nation was punished for concealed sins only after crossing the Jordan River, while R. Nechemia holds that they were never punished for concealed sins – for how can the hidden thoughts of individuals be known to others? – and were punished for revealed or known sins only after they entered the Land.

Well-known educator Rabbi Meyer Fendel <https://mishpacha.com/a-pioneering-spirit/>, who passed away earlier this year, writes, "We see that Israel's arrival in the Land of Israel put them on a very high national level, and upgraded their responsibility one for another. According to the holy Sh'lah, it is very telling that they entered the Holy Land at Arvot Moav – an allusion to the arvut that they were about to take upon themselves. That is, according to R. Nechemia, their arrival in the Holy Land meant that they were finally responsible for one another's revealed sins - while according to R. Yehuda, their entry into Eretz Yisrael upgraded their level of love, cohesiveness and unity so greatly that they became responsible even for each other's private sins."

But the question still begs to be asked: How can one be held responsible for the concealed sins of others, even in Eretz Yisrael and even after arvut applies? How can anyone be punished for a sin committed secretly by another?

An answer is provided by Rav Moshe Yechiel Tzuriel: "If the mitzvah to give rebuke is specific and individual, then in fact it cannot be expected to apply to sins committed by others unbeknownst to us. But if this command is actually an outgrowth of our national responsibility and arvut, then it applies to everything we and others do, whether they are revealed or not. For arvut means that we are all one body; if one limb in a body is stricken, it would be unthinkable for another limb to say it doesn’t concern him…"

The General Atmosphere

"To further explain R. Yehuda's opinion," Rabbi Fendel continues, "let us add that even if we do not know about others' secret sins, we do know of the atmosphere that we all contributed to forming – an atmosphere that apparently enabled such sins. As such, we and especially our leaders are responsible not because we knew about the transgressions, but because we helped, indirectly, facilitate them. This is the sublime nature of the arvut of Israel."

The Minchat Chinukh says that the mitzvah of giving rebuke when necessary and helpful has two aspects: the positive command to offer rebuke, and the negative charge "do not stand by your neighbor's blood" (Vayikra 19,16), in the spiritual sense. One who does not reprove his friend when obligated to, violates both commandments:

* The negative mitzvah of not standing by a Jew's blood is based on arvut, that is, one's general responsibility towards all of Klal Yisrael. As we learn in Tanna D'vei Eliyahu 11: "Whoever can protest against a sin and does not, or can cause Israel to repent and does not – all blood that is spilled in Israel is on his hands… for all of Israel is responsible one for another." Arvut is a type of national mitzvah, one that requires of all of us to work to ensure the welfare of the nation at large, including by rebuking or reaching out to sinners to ensure that our nation is not punished. The obligation is therefore not to give rebuke per se, but rather to safeguard the nation.

* But the positive mitzvah, that of giving rebuke, is more pointed. It is not based on the principles of arvut and nationhood, but is rather a specific, individual commandment incumbent upon a Jew to give rebuke when the occasion arises.

The Situation Today

How are we to give rebuke today, when sins are so prevalent? The Chafetz Chaim cites an opinion (Sh. Ar. Orach Chaim 608, Beiur Halakhah) that only when it is within our power to enforce our rebuke are we obligated to do so. He adds that those who have totally "denied and shirked the yoke of mitzvot" need not be rebuked. Furthermore, writes the Chafetz Chaim, even the authoritative Rav Moshe Isserles, who says that purposeful sinners must be rebuked, would agree that sinners who perpetually flaunt their Torah violations need not be rebuked.

We must always keep in mind that which the Chazon Ish, and many after him, said, based on Maimonides: Most of today's sinners are considered like tinokot she'nishbu, babies who were brought up by Gentiles and who therefore have no knowledge whatsoever of a Torah way of life. They must therefore be approached with love, not anger or resentment, in order to return them to Judaism – and that is the bottom line of all rebuke.

Ki Tavo: Different Approaches to the Holocaust, etc.

Based on an article by Rav Moshe Leib HaCohen Halbershtadt, Founder and Director of YORU Jewish Leadership, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Close to half of this week's Torah portion of Ki Tavo (D'varim 26,1–29,8) is devoted to the tokhecha, a detailed list of unimaginably terrible curses that will befall the people of Israel if they do not hearken to G-d's word. We know that tragically, many if not all of these curses came to pass during the course of our history: with the destructions of both the First and Second Temples, and in the centuries in between and mainly afterwards, during our long Exile. The shadow of the destruction of European Jewry in the terrible Holocaust is still ever-present in our minds and memories.

How are we to deal with the fulfillment of these dreadful curses, faith-wise? For many of our brethren, it caused a crisis of faith. They experienced the horrors, sometimes face on, and simply could not accept that such things could happen in G-d's world. 

Even among the great leaders of Israel, there were different approaches in the struggle of faith in confronting the horror. There were those who took a strict approach of rebuke, saying that the horror was a direct consequence of straying from the path of G-d – precisely as the Torah states here in Ki Tavo. They even pointed to specific sins and sociological processes that brought about specific punishments, measure for measure.

Others opposed this approach of seeking specific sins in order to explain the Holocaust. In their view, the tokhecha and punishments are inherent in the destiny of the Jewish people until the coming of the Messiah, and its ultimate reasons are up to the Creator's will, for reasons known and understood to Him alone. One would need to be a prophet or even just a Tanna (sage of the Mishnah) to claim to understand the specific causes of what happened to us. Anyone who falls short of this level yet still claims such an understanding, tramples in vain upon the bodies of the martyrs who died for the sanctification of G-d’s Name, and misuses the power of interpreting and understanding Jewish history. This confusion arises not only when we seek to "explain" the Holocaust, but also when smaller or more personal tragedies befall us, whether they be wars, terror attacks, illnesses, and the like,

In response to those who explain the Shoah as a measure-for-measure punishment, their opponents challenge: "Are you speaking logically? Why would the Al-mighty need to bring upon us such dreadful things? Could He not have found gentler means by which to bring us back to the right path? And what about all those infants who neither sinned nor transgressed?"

But in response to them, the others say: "Does not the Torah say outright [here in Parashat Ki Tavo, et al] that severe punishments await the people of Israel if they do not listen to the voice of G-d?" Not only that, but Maimonides states clearly that to search for specific sins for which we were punished is the recommended path when punishment befalls us. In Mishneh Torah, Laws of Fasts 1:2–3, the Rambam writes (paraphrased): 

"This is among the ways of repentance: When calamity comes and the people cry out over it and sound the trumpets, everyone will then know that it was due to their sins – and this repentance will cause the calamity to be nullified. But if they do not cry out, etc., but instead say: "Whatever happened is merely the way of the world and happenstance" - this is actual cruelty, because it causes them to cling to their evil deeds, instead of to "search their ways and repent," and thus the calamity will bring upon them further calamities."

Foundations of Faith

“The ultimate of what we shall know of You is that we shall not know You. And yet we shall know Your existence — this is what remains for us from all our toil of study."
(by 14th-century Torah scholar Rabbi Yedaiah HaP'nini)

Without presuming to decide which of the above approaches is more correct, let us merely seek to understand our agreed-upon foundations of faith, according to the above teaching of the great sage and poet, our master Rabbi Yedaiah HaPenini. He seems to have taught here two foundations of faith that appear to be contradictory: "We know Your existence, but the only thing we know about You is that we cannot know You." How are we to understand this? 

Rational reflection on both recent and distant history leads to the clear and simple conclusion that "we know Your existence," that "the palace has a master," and that the Torah is true and are fulfilled precisely: "If you do not hearken to the voice of the Lord … then all these curses shall come upon you…" And as King Solomon writes in Proverbs (21,30), “There is no wisdom and no understanding and no counsel against the Lord.” 

But at the same time, it is also true that "the ultimate of what we know of You is that we do not know You." No one truly understands the ways of G-d; no one knows the calculations of Heaven. The debate is only about how to fulfill the Rambam’s directive to identify our sins: Should we point to specific sins, or should we repent in a more general way? 

But no one is capable of "understanding" G-d – and this is the ultimate knowledge of Him.

The Parable of the Farmer
The holy rabbi, leader and Shoah-victim Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman, may G-d avenge his blood, was asked during his final, terrifying days in Kovno, why such horrors had been decreed upon them. R. Elchanan told the following parable:

There was once a man who knew nothing of farming, who came to a farmer and asked him to teach him the work of the land. The farmer took him to his field and asked him what he saw. He said, “I see a plot of land, rich with greenery, pleasing to the eye.”

The guest then stood astonished as the farmer plowed under the greenery, turning the beautiful green field into heaps of low brown furrows. “Why did you destroy the field?” he exclaimed. “Patience, you’ll see,” said the farmer.

Later the farmer showed his guest a sack full of fine, nourishing wheat kernels, and asked him, "What do you see?" "Beautifully satisfying and appealing grain," he said. But he again looked on in shock as the farmer destroyed the valuable product, scattering the kernels along the furrows and casting them into the opened earth wherever he walked. He then covered the seeds with clods of soil.

“First you ruined the field," the guest demanded, "and now you’re wasting the grain! Have you lost your mind?”  

“Patience," said the farmer. "You’ll see.”

After some time, the farmer again brought his guest to the field. Now they beheld, as far as the eye could see, straight rows of green stalks sprouting and rising from the furrows. The guest smiled with relief: “I apologize. Now I understand what you did. The field is now more beautiful than ever. The farmer's work is truly amazing.”

“Not quite,” said the farmer. “A bit more patience, please.”

In time, the guest looked on with horror as the farmer cut down the fully-grown stalks; struck them and beat them until they turned into a mixture of straw and loose kernels; then loaded a wagon high with the grain and brought it to the mill where he ground it into powder. With each stage, the guest complained, and each time he was told to have patience. 

The same happened when the farmer brought the flour home, mixed it with water, and made a form of white mud. He then shaped it – and to the guest's horror, placed it into a burning furnace! 

At last, the farmer opened the oven and removed from it a fresh loaf of bread, golden and crisp, with an aroma that stirred the appetite. “Come,” said the farmer. "Enjoy the tasty and healthful bread. Now do you understand?!”

G-d is our Farmer, and we are the fools who have not even the faintest beginning of understanding of His ways or of the final outcome of His deeds. Only when the process is completed will the people of Israel know why all this has happened. When the Redemption process is complete, we shall understand all the steps that led up to it. Until then, we must gird ourselves with patience and faith that everything, even when it appears as destruction and suffering, is part of a process that will bring goodness and delight.