Seeking Rav Kook's Glasses, to See and Welcome Redemptive Times

by Rav Tal Haimowitz, Yeshivat Maalot and Head of the Rabanan Agadta Project, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Everyone feels that the post-Oct. 7^th world is in upheaval. Rav Kook saw the Redemption, and we must study and analyze his writings so that we can see it as well.

HaRav Avraham Yitzchak HaCohen Kook (1865-1935) of saintly blessed memory, the first Chief Rabbi of the modern-day Jewish yishuv in the Land of Israel, was undoubtedly the seer and shepherd of the Generation of Redemption. Not only did he pronounce already then that his times were those of atchalta deGeulah, the beginning of Redemption, but he even discerned that during this special period, there are communal guidelines and perspectives that are different than during previous periods.

The Rav explained, for instance, that according to the Holy Zohar, in the times of Ikv'ta d'Mishicha, the Footsteps of Messiah, even those who appear to be sinful on the outside are actually good in their inner selves – and the proof is their national aspirations and their dedication to the Nation of Israel. This led him to lovingly bring close those sons who had strayed from the Torah path, as opposed to the habitual approach of rebuking and rejecting them until they somehow find their way back.

So did Rav Meir Bar-Ilan write in his introduction to Rav Kook's work Chazon HaGeulah: "The light that shone in [Rav Kook's] soul was the light of salvation and Redemption… In all [his copious spiritual work], almost without exception, he had one path and one approach: to restore the Children of Israel to their Father in Heaven, and to restore the Nation of Israel to its Land…"

This principal trait of Rav Kook has practical ramifications also regarding what should be our approach to Torah study in this critical Redemptive generation, as we will now see.

The ability to anticipate processes underway in our world, and to identify historic changes and human progress, depends on whether we can take stock of the inner reality that leads creation along. As we saw in the above example, HaRav Kook noted a change underway in the souls of Israel. Despite the behavior of a very large part of those who came to the Holy Land in the Second Aliyah (the arrival of close to 40,000 Jews from 1904-1914), who came largely for socialist ideals and were often most scornful of Torah values, he studied them closely and knew that their "inner aspects" were truly good, as he explained in his Igeret Takanah (Letter 555).

Rav Kook also understood that the brazen heresy of many Jews of those times stemmed from an aspiration to an even higher level of holiness than those they had been exposed to. Their souls were actually illuminated with a great Divine light, and were not a product of brash audaciousness (Orot HaT'chiyah, p. 47).

What was the source of Rav Kook's ability to fathom the inner reality? It stemmed from his long years of deep and intense study of the inner, Kabbalistic secrets of the Torah. This study began when he was a young rabbi in Zoimel; struck with several fundamental questions, he received his community's permission to spend a month learning with the great Kabbalist sage Rav Shlomo Elyashiv, author of the famous Leshem Shvo v'Achlamah and grandfather of this generation's venerated sage R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv.

His Focus on the Return to Zion and the Centrality of Redemption

Rav Kook's natural inclination towards the inner teachings and Kabbalist esoterics of Torah is that which brought him to so intensively call for and teach towards the concept of Israel's "return to Zion" (Psalms 126,1). He wrote that there can be no comprehension of the importance of the Land of Israel and its central importance in the Torah without delving into the secrets of Torah. He dramatically writes: "The recognition of the sanctity of the Land of Israel appears in a blurred manner [the more we] distance from understanding the secrets… and then the Exile begins to find favor" (Orot Eretz Yisrael 2).

The above is also that which brought him to so totally anticipate and long for Israel's Redemption in all its facets. This is because the Redemption is dependent upon the revelation of the inner layers of the Torah, as the Zohar itself states, and as is repeated in the Kabbalistic works afterwards. The greatest of the Arizal's students, R. Chaim Vital, in his introduction to the Arizal's Shaar HaHakdamot, found no explanation to the delay in the Redemption other than the fact that the study of the inner levels of the Torah were not being studied.

Of course, Rav Kook sought to write in a way that would be understood, as much as possible, by the general public, including even those who are not familiar with Kabbalah. (The late Chief Rabbi of Haifa, R. She'ar Yashuv Cohen, son of Rav Kook's close student the Nazir, explained as much to the Lubavitcher Rebbe during a meeting they once held.) Still, his words were certainly rooted in and directed towards the Torah's inner, hidden levels.

A New Type of Literature

Our generation has been privileged to see many students of Kabbalah and many who seek the inner understandings of Torah, in which is revealed how G-d acts in His world via His Torah and Providence. Ever since Simchat Torah of 2023, there is no one who does not sense that the entire world is in an upheaval. The Nation of Israel will never be the same as it was before the events of that day and those afterwards. From here stems the understandable and justified quest to understand what is happening beneath the surface, amidst the understanding that the outer reality is merely a thin shell of what truly is.

There is thus a new mission in the Torah study halls that identify the Redemption on the close horizon: to connect the nigleh (outer) words of Rav Kook regarding Jewish Law, Talmud, Bible and the like to the nistar (inner) layers of Torah. He himself said that he wrote nothing that lacks a source in the writings of the Arizal – and the goal now is to find these sources. A new literature is arising that will find the bonds that connect the Rav's above writings and those of and about the Kabbalah.

The pioneers of this work were certainly Rav Kook's son Rav Tzvi Yehuda and the Rav HaNazir, who found and published the Kabbalistic sources of his Kabbalah-type writings. But in recent years, this quest has taken on a broader context, and many important writers have begun to publish works whose unique objective it is to explain more deeply these sources and others of his writings in this manner. I, myself, have also been privileged to contribute my humble ideas on these matters in a new work that I am writing, entitled, "The Ari and the Ra'yah [referring to the Arizal and Rav Kook] – the Tzimtzum." Its goal is to encompass various topics of Kabbalah and faith that touch upon them, topic after topic.

But in truth, the work is very great. The source(s) must be found for all that he wrote, and he wrote very much and very profoundly. It is appropriate that just after having commemorated a century since Rav Kook founded his great Yeshivat Merkaz HaRav, many Torah scholars should dedicate themselves to delving into his deep Torah and revealing its profound secrets. Only thus can we truly see through the glasses of Rav Kook, who was able to reveal universal secrets and happily welcome the Redemption and our national salvation.

Teruma: The Mutual Love Between G-d and Israel

by Rav Moshe Tzuriel zt"l, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

During the times of the Sages of the Talmud, it was customary among some young couples that the groom would leave home before marriage in order to study Torah with the greatest rabbis. [Perhaps this started] with Rabbi Akiva, who left his home for 12 years, and then for another 12 years – of course with the permission of his young and dedicated wife Rachel. Rava's son also received permission from his wife to leave for the same reason, for six years. The Gemara also tells of the son of R. Judah the Prince, redactor of the Mishna, who became engaged to the daughter of R. Yossi ben Zimra – with the condition that the groom would spend 12 years studying Torah. It happened that the boy saw his future wife walk through the room, and he asked his father if he could reduce the period to six years. The parents agreed, but before the final agreement could be signed, the boy said that he wished to reconsider once again, and asked that the wedding take place immediately, before he left for his studies. The boy then became embarrassed at his impatience, but his father mollified him, saying:

"You have the idea of the Holy One. He, too, promised to dwell in the midst of the Children of Israel – but only when they come to the Land of Israel, as written in the Song of the Sea: "You will bring them and plant them in the mountain of Your inheritance" - i.e., Jerusalem - "the place You made for Your dwelling, Hashem" (Exodus 15,17). But then what happened? Hashem rushed things up, telling Moshe [in this week's Torah portion of Teruma] to tell Israel that "they should make Me a sanctuary and I will dwell in their midst" (ibid. 25,2). As Rashi explains, the groom followed G-d's pattern when He did not wait 40 years until Israel entered the Holy Land to dwell in their midst, but rather decided to do so at once.

And it is in the Tabernacle, and then the Holy Temple, that the cherubim atop the Holy Ark symbolize the mutual love between G-d and His people, as explained at length by the Torah commentators.

Why exactly does G-d love us so? There are two answers, as the Maharal of Prague wrote in his commentary to Pirkei Avot: First is the very creation of Israel as "the branch planted by [G-d], the work of My hands in which I take pride" (Isaiah 60,21); Israel is the nation thus worthy of the World to Come, even before they fulfill mitzvot and perform good deeds. And secondly, we have the additional level of our good deeds and integrity. That is, as the Maharal continues, "while the Christians and the Ishmaelites (Muslims) tend to extremism in their religions, Israel has the trait of the middle road (see Rambam's Guide 3,39 and De'ot 1)." "This nation I created for Me," we read in Isaiah (43,21); Rashi explains that the world was created for Israel – which means for the sake of the Divine objective – and our higher level is not dependent upon our merits, which grant us an extra level of Divine preference.

As an aside, we must ask: Is this not a racist viewpoint? The answer is no, because racism is defined as something that claims to grant one race authority to take advantage of and subjugate the others that are supposedly lower than them. But if one race claims to have advantages, but does not adopt the supposed right to subjugate others, this is not racism. If we say that a European race is polite and orderly, as opposed to a Far East tribe that is barbaric and lacks those traits, that is not racism.

HaRav Kook, of saintly blessed memory, taught us (Introduction to Musar Avicha): "For as long as one does not teach himself to understand the greatness of the soul of Israel and the virtue of Israel, and that of the Holy Land, and the longing of every Israelite for the building of the Holy Temple, and the greatness of Israel in the world – he will be practically unable at all to taste the true flavor of the service of G-d."

This helps us understand the mutual love between G-d and Israel symbolized by the cherubim in the Temple facing each other with a common goal. We also understand why G-d rushed to have Israel build a Tabernacle in the desert 40 years earlier than planned – because G-d, as the "male," always wishes to give to His chosen "female." And this also helps us understand the comparison to the groom who wished to marry his intended right away.

But we are well-advised to ensure that the love is mutual. Just as the Sages tell us that G-d shows His great love for us via "the ten perpetual miracles in the Temple" (Avot 5), and just as the Western Lamp attests to His presence there (Shabbat 22b) – so too we must act upon our desire to rebuild the Holy Temple. We may not allow ourselves to be distracted from this vision and dream, and we may not have weakness of spirit as if many long years will yet pass (Heaven forbid) before the Divine King's palace is re-established. Rather, we must take the following practical steps:

The Government of Israel must forbid non-Jews from entering the holiest locations of the Temple, as is Halakhically ruled in the Mishna (Kelim 1). After the battles of the Six Day War died down, no Arab set foot on the Temple site, until then-Defense Minister Moshe Day gave them the keys. How could it have happened that not one of the religious parties protested this disgrace? How can it be that they all did not protest it? How did the rabbis not cry out in opposition? And even now, Jewish prayer on the Mount is very restricted; is this not a great disgrace that we cave in to the Gentiles, instead of ruling there as we should?

But the general populace are lovers of G-d and greatly desire and long to restore the Divine Presence to Its place. "For your salvation we have pined all day long," we say thrice daily in our prayers.

We conclude with these words of inspiration from the Tanna D'vei Eliyahu Rabba:

"Every wise man in Israel who learns true words and ideas of Torah; and who sighs in pain at the [degraded] honor of G-d in the world, and regarding that of Israel, all his days; and who pines intensely for the honor of Jerusalem and the Holy Temple and the Salvation that it may sprout speedily in our times; and for the Ingathering of the Exiles – immediately, the Holy Spirit dwells within him."

Emuna: Our Public Reaction to Hurtful Remarks

by Rav Zalman Baruch Melamed, Dean of Yeshivat Beit El Institutions, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Last week, the head of an important yeshiva, Yeshivat Slobodka in Bnei Brak, who is a great Torah scholar and genius, one who has spread and taught Torah very widely, and a man with very many merits – publicly said something somewhat incensing. He sharply criticized the religious-Zionist sector, saying that the Torah it teaches, and that the Torah of the religious-Zionist rabbis, is "warped." It was hard to hear these words, and there were those who protested them publicly.

At first glance, hearing these words is truly infuriating. We are immediately inclined to protest this insult to the honor of Torah. Many Zionist rabbis, and many who are no longer living, taught and teach this Torah, and this is an insult to their Torah-imbued approach, and therefore it is incumbent upon us to protest and dissent.

On second thought, though, one starts to think that perhaps it would be better to be - as the Talmud states in Tr. Shabbat 88b - among those who "are insulted but do not insult back; who hear their disgrace but do not respond, about whom is stated, 'let them who love G-d be as the sun when it comes out in its might'" (Judges 5,31).

Then another day passes, and another thought arises: Maybe it's not as one-sided as it looks? What, actually, do the Zionist rabbis think about the hareidi rabbis? Do they believe that the hareidi approach is correct – or maybe that it is "warped?" Perhaps the Zionist rabbis believe that the Torah of the hareidim is incomplete and distorted in not including Land of Israel Torah and not focusing on Ahavat Yisrael and the Land of Israel? Perhaps Zionist rabbis also believe that a Torah that does not emphasize everything – is a "warped" Torah? So both sides believe that the other side is teaching a wrong type of Torah – so why should you be so angry at them for saying the same thing you might be thinking about them? The difference might be that you don't say it aloud – but there are those who do.

In short, there is a difference of opinion, and each side speaks against the other. What's not OK is that they don't know that the intentions of the others side are for the sake of Heaven – which leads, as we learn in Tr. Sotah 40a, to "out of both sides G-d will be praised." There is room for disagreements, and G-d's name is sanctified by the different opinions.

Even within the hareidi public there are those who speak against hareidi rabbis and leaders and say that their Torah is "warped" because they go along with the State and accept grants from the State. They say that it is "warped" to have anything to do with the secular State.

And there are also those within the religious-Zionist camp who say about each other that their Torah is "warped." Some say that the others are too liberal, while the latter say that they are Beit Hillel and the others are Beit Shammai [whose opinion is generally stricter and usually not accepted]. Those among the Zionists who are more Torah-oriented say that the hareidim are Beit Shammai and that they themselves are Beit Hillel. And some hareidim say this about each other.

These disputes are acceptable. But what's not acceptable is when one side feels that the other does not have intentions for the sake of Heaven, "because if they did, then they would agree with me – for after all, I'm right! And if he doesn't agree with my opinion, it means he has ulterior motives, for why else would he not agree with me, given that the truth is on my side?" But we know that two people can both have correction intentions and sincerely believe that the other is wrong.

And then another day passes, and still another thought arises. Perhaps the rabbi did not really say these things totally on his own, but rather the Master of the Universe wanted these words to be heard – and therefore we must be attentive to them. What he said might truly be something that we can learn something from; perhaps it can help us to improve ourselves. Why should we not accept these words of mussar (proper conduct) and see if we have something to improve? Everyone has where to improve, and every approach can be refined and become better and more perfect. So it is a good idea to be a person who appreciates being told that what he is doing wrong. In fact, this is one of the 49 ways in which Torah is acquired, as we learn in Pirkei Avot (Chapters of the Fathers) 6,6. When you hear someone rebuking you, try to think how it can help you become better.

And we can also think something else: It wasn't enjoyable for us to hear those words – so,

"that which you don't like, don't do to others" (Shabbat 31a). That is, we should not cause others the same discomfort that these words caused us by speaking badly about them. And if in fact his words taught us the right way to act, we should write him a note of thanks for having taught us to be more careful in our behavior and not say things that can make others feel bad. And in this way, everything will turn out be for the best and for blessing.
We look at our disagreement as a "dispute for the sake of Heaven." That is, we are sure that our path is right and complete, while we see others who focus only on selected parts. Still, we see that everyone adds a good point, so that out of it all "G-d's praise will arise."
But it is possible to think differently, which we do. We believe that the proper approach is to be partners with G-d in the national Redemptive processes. One group builds the Land of Israel, one group is busy with national unity, one group is busy with Torah – and in the end, from out of all of them, "G-d's praise will arise."

A Dispute for the Sake of Heaven

HaRav Kook taught us this approach. The things that were said against him 100 years ago were even more hateful than what the Rosh Yeshiva of Slobodka said about us. Yet he accepted them with equanimity, understanding that the dispute was for the sake of Heaven. Everyone has virtues, all of which join together and increase the honor of Heaven.

There are those who emphasize learning Torah over other matters, for reasons that they believe are correct. They believe that if we focus only on Torah and less on Eretz Yisrael and Am Yisrael, we will thus strengthen the Torah, and that this is "a time to do for the Lord - they have voided Your Torah" (Psalms 119,126). Of course we must fulfill the entire Torah, they say, but now there is no choice other than to build walls [between themselves and the secular world] until they are very strong.

Mishpatim: Mercy, Mercy!

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

This week's Torah portion of Mishpatim (Sh'mot, chapters 21-24), which follows the grand Giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai, begins unexpectedly with the technical laws of a Hebrew slave: "If you should purchase a Hebrew slave, for six years he shall work for you, and in the seventh year he shall go free" (21,1).

Why does the Torah choose to begin its legal section of various detailed laws regarding torts, damages and the like with the Hebrew slave (eved ivri), of all topics? It could have started, for instance, with, "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Vayikra 19,8), which R. Akiva said is a "great principle of the Torah," and which is a primary fundamental on which the entire Torah stands (Shabbat 31a). Why do the laws begin with the Hebrew slave?!
Our holy Torah specifically began its laws with those of eved ivri in order to teach us the basis of all the laws of the Torah, which is that we may never forget the "heart." We must always strive to combine the trait of compassion with that of strict judgement, and to thus form a more perfect world – in remembrance of both the Exodus from Egypt and the creation of the world.

Rabbeinu Baḥye, a great Torah scholar and commentator in Spain (1255–1340), explains [paraphrased]: "The Torah begins with this law because the Hebrew slave is a testament to both the Exodus from Egypt and the creation of the world. It recalls the Exodus, in that the Israelites were slaves in Egypt and G-d took them out to be slaves to Him alone, as is written (Vayikra 25,55), "For the children of Israel are My slaves" – My slaves whom I brought out of Egypt. The laws of the eved ivri are first, just as the Ten Commandments begin with the fact that G-d "brought you out of the land of Egypt, from a house of slaves" (Sh'mot 20,2).

"And it also recalls the creation of the world," Rabbeinu Baḥye continues, "just as the Sabbath is a remembrance of Creation, for G-d created His world in six days and the seventh is a day of rest – and the Hebrew slave is also a remembrance of Creation, in that his seventh year is one of rest from his master, just like the seventh day of the week – and all the sevenths are special: the Sabbath day, and the Sh'mitah year, and the seventh Sh'mitah year which brings on the Jubilee; all of this is one great principle from one source, the secret of history, mentioned in the story of Creation in B'reshit (1,1-2,3)."

Rabbeinu Baḥye is telling us that the eved ivri is a symbol of two great principle of faith in G-d. The forerunner to the Shulchan Arukh – the Baal HaTurim – makes the same point (O.C. 625): "Scriptures hinged the mitzvah of Sukkah, and many other mitzvot, on the Exodus, because the Exodus is something that we saw with our own eyes and heard with our own ears [and was passed down through the generations], something that no one can deny; it teaches the truth of the existence of the Creator, that He created all according to His will, and that He has the power and ability in the upper and lower spheres to act with them as He pleases, as He did with us when He extricated us from Egypt with great miracles and wonders."

The Sefer HaChinukh, too, in Mitzvah 26, explains why we recite Kiddush on the Sabbath "in remembrance of Creation." It is in order that we realize through this to remember the greatness of this Sabbath day, and set in our hearts our belief in the creation ex nihilo of the world.

However, there is yet another, deeper layer to this idea. A Hebrew slave is one who was so destitute that he had no choice but to sell himself into slavery, or was sold into slavery because he stole and could not repay what he took. He is thus on the bottom of human society, having been forced into giving up his freedom and basic dignity. The Torah therefore began its litany of laws with the Hebrew slave in order that we remember that we, too, were once in that position, enslaved and humiliated in Egypt. Thus we will identify with the pain of those who are on the bottom levels of society, and show compassion towards them, and do all we can to rehabilitate them. And during their six years of servitude, we will respect them; the master is commanded to treat him with special honor, such as not serving him wine or bread of lesser quality than his own, and other such laws, to the point that the Gemara says, "Whoever acquires a Hebrew slave is like one who has acquired a master over himself" (Kiddushin 20a).  When he is sent free, the master must give him gifts, and he then returns to being a slave only to G-d. This is in remembrance of Creation, which was effected with the trait of compassion (see Rashi to B'reshit 1,1, as well as 2,4).

Emuna: Nothing Like Prayer with Repentance

by the late Chief Rabbi of Israel & Rosh Yeshivat Merkaz HaRav, Rav Avraham Shapira ZT"L, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

In Chapters of the Fathers (Pirkei Avot 2,18) we learn the words of R. Shimon ben Netanel (Rshb"n, mentioned beforehand in Mishna 10):

When you pray, do not perform your prayers by rote, but rather render them [an appeal for] mercy and grace before G-d, as is written: "For He is gracious and full of mercy, slow to anger, abundant in kindness, and relenting of the evil decree"(Joel 2,13).

This teaching appears to parallel very closely a teaching by R. Eliezer in another Mishna (B'rachot 4,4): "One who renders his prayers by rote, it is not [an appeal for] mercy."

However, there is a big difference between them: Rshb"n added a verse to prove his point.

But this is very puzzling: What proof is there in the verse from Joel regarding Rshb"n's teaching? The verse speaks of one who did t'shuvah, repentance, whereas Rshb"n was speaking about prayer!

The explanation is this: In the above-cited Mishna 10, Rshb"n was specifically commended as one whose outstanding quality was "fear of sin." That is, he was always replete with fear of sin – even when he prayed. His prayer was one of "fear of sin," which necessarily results in t'shuvah – and that is why he cited, in his teaching about prayer, a verse having to do with t'shuvah.

That is to say: Rshb"n wished to teach us that our prayers must stem from t'shuvah. After one does t'shvuah, all of his good deeds and his mitzvah-actions take on a new light. We see this in the classic work by Rabbeinu Yonah entitled Shaarei T'shuvah (The Gates of Repentance). Its first two "gates" deal with t'shuvah, followed by a section on mitzvot that seem to have nothing to do with t'shuvah. Why is this? Because after a person does t'shuvah, all of his mitzvot receive new meaning.

The same is true for prayer: Once one is engaged in t'shuvah, his prayer is different; it is powered by t'shuvah, and is lit up in the light of t'shuvah. Rshb"n comes to teach us that our prayers must always be of that type – and that is why he cites the verse from Joel.

The Rambam (Maimonides) speaks precisely of this type of prayer. He writes that "one of the ways of t'shuvah is for the returnee to cry out always before G-d." This is actually a novel thought of the Rambam, for we don't find that he holds that there is a special prayer of t'shuvah.

To elaborate on this point: We know that the Rambam and the Ramban (Nachmanides) have a fundamental disagreement on the obligation of prayer. The latter holds that the Torah obligation is to pray during times of trouble, such as, "When there is war in your land, against an enemy who oppresses you…" (Bamidbar 10,9), and as King Shlomo explained (Kings I 8, 33-39). Thus, the Ramban maintains that the mitzvah of prayer is reserved for times of trouble, when one must do t'shuvah and pray that the evil decree be rescinded and that his sins be forgiven.

However, the Rambam's approach is that any type of prayer is a daily Biblical obligation, and there is no need for a special Torah directive to pray specifically when we are in trouble – for we must pray in any event. We therefore would not have thought that there was a special prayer for or about t'shuvah – but when the Rambam tells us that "crying out" is one of the "ways of t'shuvah, this is a great lesson for us regarding his view of the concept of prayer.

In sum: There is a special obligation to pray amid and with t'shuvah - and just like any other mitzvah, prayer that is done in this way is on a much higher level than other prayer. 

Yitro: How the Sacrifices Made the Torah More Approachable

by Rav Mordechai Hochman, Head of Kollel "Rinat Beit El" and the Beit El branch of Beit Midrash "Tzurva Miderabanan", yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The Israelites in the desert received the Torah willingly, even saying, "We will do and we will listen," committing to perform the mitzvot even before knowing exactly what they were. But it didn't come to them so easily…

At the end of Parashat Mishpatim in the Book of Sh'mot (Exodus), Moshe Rabbeinu comes to the Israelites and proposes a covenant between them and G-d, regarding the acceptance of the Torah they were being given. Israel answered eagerly: Naaseh v'nishma, "All that G-d has said we will do and we will hear" (Sh'mot 24,7).

The Nation of Israel thus showed their willingness to fulfill the commandments that they already knew – as well as those that they were still yet to hear, even those that the Sages would institute later (as the Torah commands; Deut. 17,10). And in this merit, G-d gave them the Torah.

The Talmud has great praise for this stand: "When Israel preceded hearing with doing, a Heavenly voice was emitted, saying, 'Who revealed to My children this great secret that the ministering angels use?'" (Shabbat 88a)

But actually, it wasn't so easy for them to reach that point. In fact, in this week's Torah portion of Yitro (Exodus, chapters 18-24), in which we first read of the Ten Commandments, they responded differently to Moshe's first proposal of a covenant with G-d. "If you will listen to My voice and keep My covenant, you shall be My treasure from among all the peoples… a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (19,5-6). Israel responded then more modestly: "All that G-d has said, we will do" (verse 8) – naaseh, but without nishma. And again later, they responded similarly: "All the things that G-d has said, we will do" (24,3). Twice they said that they would perform whatever they were commanded, and only on the third time – just four verses after the second time – did they add that they would also do whatever they would be commanded in the future.

What brought about this change?

It appears that it was what happened in the intervening four verses that did the trick. We read there that Moshe built an altar, with "twelve pillars for the twelve tribes of Israel. And he sent the youths of Israel and they offered burnt-offerings and peace-offerings of oxen to G-d" (verses 5-6). Moshe Rabbeinu wanted the Children of Israel to feel that they had a personal stake in the Torah; each pillar showed that the Torah touched the special quality of each of the 12 Tribes of the nation. In addition, the youths who offered the sacrifices were the first-borns of the various families, and they served as the priests in the sacrificial service. Thus, each family felt a personal connection to the Torah – and said eagerly, "We will also do whatever we will be commanded."

But it could be there was more to it than that.

We know that the Rambam (Maimonides) and Ramban (Nachmanides) explain differently the commandment of offering sacrifices. The Rambam writes in his Guide to the Perplexed that the sacrifices were not inherently required, but rather were the result of the Gentiles' practice of offering them. The Jews would have had a hard time receiving the Torah that did not include the "universally accepted" practice of sacrificing animals to G-d. The Rambam explains that G-d, in His great wisdom, would not have commanded something that went so totally against the people's nature – and therefore re-directed the inclination to bring sacrifices from "imaginary things [false gods and idols], to G-d's exalted Name." The Rambam elaborates on this concept at length.

Nachmanides, however, did not accept this approach at all, and said that the idea of sacrifices to G-d embodies very exalted concepts in the service of the One G-d. The Rambam, too, appears to accept this as well, in his Mishneh Torah, where he wrote that we cannot fathom the true purpose of sacrifices and that they will be renewed when in Messianic times.

Returning to the Israelites at Mt. Sinai, we can say that the Rambam's approach to sacrifices in his Guide, which is also found in the Medrash, is alluded to in Israel's acceptance of the Torah. At first, they said only, "We will do" what we know, without adding also the commandments not yet given to them – because they had trouble accepting a way of life that did not include sacrificial offerings to G-d. However, after Moshe built an altar for them, and they offered upon it sacrifices, as was familiar to them, they agreed enthusiastically to receive the Torah – even those aspects of it that they had not yet been commanded. And in the merit of this naaseh v'nishma, they received the Torah and set an example for generations of complete acceptance of G-d's word.

Tu B'Shvat: How the Fruits of the Land of Israel Comforted Rabbi Berlin

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

At the end of his life, the great Netziv of Volozhin – Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, Rosh Yeshivat Volozhin – was weak and ill, both physically and otherwise. The Russian authorities had ordered that secular studies be taught in the renowned Yeshiva for six hours a day (!), which was of course unacceptable to the Netziv, and so he closed down the institution. In addition, he and the other Yeshiva teachers were expelled from the area, and he was forced to wander from place to place.

The Netziv thereupon decided that he would move to Eretz Yisrael, his love for which was evident in all his many writings. This in fact gave him hope and happiness. However, his doctors ultimately forbade him from making the difficult trip, and he died in eastern Europe in August 1893.

But behold, several months before his death, a final ray of light and joy shined down upon him – directly from our Holy Land. His son Rabbi Meir Bar-Ilan, president of the American Mizrachi movement, described this event as follows:

"It happened just before Pesach of 1893. The 'Carmel' store selling wine made in the Land of Israel had just opened. When my father came to Warsaw, Yaakov Brody [a founder of Rechovot and co-owner of Carmel] and the directors of Carmel sent him some bottles of wine. Despite his physical and spiritual suffering, his face shined with joy when he received the wine, and he said, 'Thanks to G-d that we have merited to have wine from Eretz Yisrael, from a vineyard planted by Jews in the Land of Israel. It is a great privilege for all of us to 'eat of its fruits and be satiated from its goodness' [as we recite in the blessing after grains and Land of Israel fruits]. Blessed is He Who has brought us to this day!

"He did not stop expressing his bliss at the fact that we were able to enjoy the fruits of Eretz Yisrael for several days, until it was no longer a novelty. And even though he was told that the wine was too strong for his physical state, he insisted on drinking the Land of Israel wine on both Seder nights. With every blessing that he recited over the Four Cups, his tremendous happiness was evident to all."

This coming week we will commemorate Tu B'Shvat (the 15^th day of the month of Shvat, commonly known as the Jewish New Year for Trees). This was the day that the students of the Arizal (Rav Yitzchak Luria of 16^th-century Tzfat) instituted as the day in which we connect with the special qualities of the Holy Land and its holy fruits. The Netziv was in fact one of a long line of great Torah giants who extolled at length of the virtues of the fruits of Eretz Yisrael.

The Ben Ish Chai (R. Yosef Chaim of Baghdad, master of Jewish Law and Kabbalah, d. 1909) wrote that enjoying the fruits of Eretz Yisrael is an aspect of the mitzvah of showing love for the Land. He was once asked whether it might be considered gluttonous to make a special trip of a few days simply to eat tasty fruits in a certain place in Eretz Yisrael. He answered by citing the Talmud (Eruvin 30a) that recounts the following incident by one of the rabbis:

"When we would follow R. Yochanan to eat of the [famously sweet] fruits of Ginosar [near Tiberias] – if we were 100 [people], each of us would take ten fruits, and if we were ten, each of us would take 100 – and each hundred of these fruits could not fit into a basket holding three se'ahs."

The Ben Ish Chai then concluded: "It is thus clearly stated that R. Yochanan and 100 sages did this, and this was the entire purpose of their trek, and certainly their intentions were for their love of the Land and for the sake of Heaven, to eat of its sweet and important fruits, and they were all righteous and holy … and since your intentions are the same, for the love of the Land and to thank G-d for the Land and its good fruits – go and eat in happiness.."

Lessons from the Manna

The Chessed L'Avraham wrote that the manna fell for the Israelites in the desert but not when they arrived in the Holy Land – because the Land had its own holy fruits which, like the manna, had the holiness of the Divine Presence. In other ways, too, the fruits of the Land are like the manna: Just like the manna changed forms in accordance with G-d's will, so too the fruits of the Land. Let us elaborate.

The manna was supposed to be eaten and not saved for the next day – and if it was left over until the morning, it would become wormy and foul-smelling. On the Sabbath, however, it would remain fresh and tasty, just as the manna which G-d commanded us to save in a jar in the Holy of Holies for future generations. In addition, on weekdays, the manna maintained a fixed dosage of an omer per person, whereas on Shabbat, the manna doubled its quantity, even for those who gathered less.

During the week, everything is contracted, both in time (shorter "shelf life" for the manna) and in quantity. This is in contrast with the holy day of Sabbath, when the time for eating manna is increased, as is the quantity – just as spirituality expands infinitely, in contrast with the limitations of materialism. The manna thus taught that one receives in proportion to his ties with G-d's word and with sanctity.

The same is true in Eretz Yisrael, and particularly regarding its holy fruits. The Torah promises us abundance and long life in the Land if we adhere to G-d's word, for that is what the Land of Israel is all about: the manifestation of G-d's word in our material reality, and that following His word brings economic and practical success. As we read in the second paragraph of Kriat Shma: "If you adhere to My commandments… You will gather in your grain, oil and wine [in abundance]… [all this] so that you and your children will live long on the Land that G-d swore to give your ancestors" (D'varim 11, 13-21).

How fortunate are we that we have merited to live in the Holy Land, and that we can eat of its fruits. This Tu B'Shvat - and every Tu B'Shvat - let us eat from the holy fruits of this Land, let us thank G-d for all the goodness He showers upon us, and with this we will merit to rise up and connect with the holiness of the Divine Presence that is being revealed in our Land!

Beshalach: Bitachon and the Media

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

In honor of this week's Torah portion of Beshalach (Sh'mot 13,17-17,16), let us recount the amazing story of the Splitting of the Red Sea and what followed it. The Children of Israel had lived as a sub-caste, and even as tortured slaves, for hundreds of years – and then suddenly find themselves in the midst of one of the most magnificent chapters in human history. They saw with their own eyes how G-d smacked their Egyptian tormentors with supernatural plagues, one after the next. They also watched how their Egyptian neighbors suffered the plagues, while they themselves, in the same places and at the same time, were untouched. They saw the Egyptians drink blood, while they themselves enjoy pure water; and the same for each plague afterwards. Thus was revealed before their eyes Divine Providence in its full strength and glory, with G-d Himself accompanying them the entire time: "G-d walked before them by day in a pillar of cloud to show them the way, and at night in a pillar of fire for light" (13,21).

But then, suddenly, the story takes an about-turn: The Children of Israel, having left Egypt, abruptly find themselves caught in a deadly trap. The Egyptians were taking chase, and even at the very shoreline the Egyptians keep coming – and the Jews have nowhere to go! They are trapped and begin panicking. What can they do? They begin complaining to their leader Moshe Rabbeinu, as if they had not just been miraculously rescued from bondage: "Are there no graves in Egypt, that you have taken us to die here in the desert? What have you done to us by taking us out of Egypt!?" (14,11)

Moshe calms the nation and encourages them: "Do not fear! Stand and watch G-d's salvation!" (14,13) Moshe raises his arms over the sea, G-d brings a strong wind, and – one of the most astonishing miracles in history happens in front of their eyes! The sea in front of them splits open! Israel goes through dry land and reaches the other side, while the cruel pursuers keep coming and are decimated by the power of the returning waves.

The miracles that Bnei Yisrael were exposed to at this time were so tremendous that our Sages of blessed memory say that the Jews were then on the highest level of prophecy. We are taught that what a simple maidservant saw at the Red Sea at that time was greater than all the prophecies ever seen by the Isaiah and Ezekiel!

From the Red Sea, the Jews traveled towards the Promised Land through the Shur Desert – but something then came up: "They walked for three days in the desert and did not find water. They came to Marah, and [found water] but could not drink it, for it was bitter." (15,22-23) What would be expected now of Bnei Yisrael, now that they have been miraculously saved both in Egypt and at the Red Sea? Would they not probably pray to G-d? They did not: "The nation complained to Moshe…" (15,24) What happened to even a bit of faith and trust in G-d after all they saw and went through? 

G-d is not bothered. He immediately solves the water shortage with another miracle: "G-d showed [Moshe] a tree, he threw it into the water, which then became sweet…" (15,25)

Bnei Yisrael continue to the Sin Desert, and they find themselves without food. They complain yet again, saying they would rather have died in Egypt where they had lots of meat and bread to eat. So strange! Not only do we see a nation without faith, but they have even managed to so quickly forget the tortures they underwent in Egypt!

Yet, once again, G-d performs a miracle for them: "I will rain down for you bread from the heavens…" (16,4).

The next station is Refidim, where another water shortage strikes them. Here already the nation openly revolts: "The nation fought with Moshe and said, Give us water! … They complained to Moshe: 'Why did you raise us up from Egypt to kill us by thirst?' Moshe cried out to G-d, saying: 'What shall I do with this people? They are close to stoning me.'" (17,2-4)

G-d lost no time, and told Moshe, "Strike the boulder, and water will come out of it for the nation to drink." (17,6)

How are we to understand this phenomenon? Bnei Yisrael see and experience so many unprecedented miracles and the hand of G-d before their very eyes, time after time – and yet when something goes wrong, they forget everything! How is it that with every test, they enter a state of hysteria, and instead of trusting Hashem, they fall into a pattern of complaints, and sometimes even worse?

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I recall during the Persian Gulf War days, I was with my wife in Ashkelon when we beheld a long line of very worried citizens, many of them even in a panic. I asked what was going on, and a man told me, "What, haven't you heard? The U.S. has attacked Iraq again with cruise missiles, and Saddam Hussein threatened to retaliate by attacking Israel! So we all need masking tape to secure our windows, and gas-masks [for those who didn't have]! Scary and dangerous!"

I asked my wife, "I understand that there is a need to prepare for different eventualities, but why such panic? Have they forgotten the great miracles when Iran sent Scud missiles our way, and though 39 of them hit us, in major population centers, only one or two civilians were killed! Why such panic now?"

But the answers are simple: The headlines that morning blared out. "Dozens of U.S. Tomahawk Missiles Landed in Iraq" and "Israel Says, We'll Respond if Attacked," and all the columnists and commentators discussed and debated the dangers and chances from every possible angle. And the immediate result, precisely as expected, was the fears and panic of the media-addicted masses. The powerful influence of the press and its obsessive pre-occupation with doomsday scenarios explain exactly why the masses go into panic-mode.

This insight can help us understand Bnei Yisrael's constant complaints and fears in the desert. It was the fault of "the media" of those times – none other than the erev rav, the Mixed Multitude of stragglers who joined up with the Jewish nation on its way out of Egypt. They were the "commentators" who constantly harped on the dangers and the fearful prospects of what could happen and all the dangers ahead. They explained what would befall babies if there was no water, and the terrible diseases that awaited the elderly if there was no food, and even provided in-depth analyses of the process of death by dehydration. Israel's fears were the natural outgrowth of the erev rav's success in shining their spotlights away from the miracles of the past and directly onto the fears of the future.

However, there were some who did not fall into this trap. They focused on G-d's saving presence in their midst, and concentrated on their trust that G-d would continue to be with them, hand in hand, all the way -  just as he had been until now. Nachmanides explains that when the Israelites jeered Moshe, "Is there a lack of graves in Egypt?" – it is not likely that this was the unanimous opinion: "People who are crying out to be saved are not likely to speak in this manner. Rather, there were different groups, and it was only one of these groups that denied G-d's providence."

We thus learn a great fundamental in the attribute of Trust in G-d, one that is very relevant to today. Every person has the free choice whether to pay careful attention to every peep that comes out of the mouth of a reporter or commentator, and be enchained to it and its resulting frights, and thus to live a life of worry. Alternatively, he can refrain from overly worrying about the future, and rather remember to always look back at the successes of the past, at how Hashem saved us time and again, and to live a life of serenity, faith, and trust in our Father in Heaven. 

May we merit to be of the latter type!