Haazinu: G-d Doesn't Miss

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

This Shabbat – the special Sabbath of T'shuvah (Repentance), between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur – is also the Sabbath of a very special Torah portion: Haazinu, which is the entire chapter of D'varim 32.

Haazinu is often overlooked because of the abundance of holidays during this month. But if we delve into it a bit, we might be surprised to find a wealth of depth and themes of critical importance to the Jewish Nation.

I ask you to perform the following experiment, which I have done myself several times: Ask someone to suggest his or her idea of a central Torah portion (with no intent to detract, of course, from the importance of every single letter in our holy Torah) that stands out. They will likely answer Kriat Shma, the Ten Commandments, the story of Creation, and others. Unless you do this on Parashat Haazinu itself, no one ever suggests Haazinu – until you explain the following.

For one thing, the very last mitzvah in the Torah – that of writing a Torah scroll – appears in Haazinu, and it sheds light on the entire picture. The command in the previous portion is, "And now, write yourselves this song" (31,19), referring to the Song of Haazinu. However, since the Torah is not written in fragments (parshiyot parshiyot), it means that we must write (or have written for us) an entire Torah. Thus, writing Haazinu means writing the whole Torah.

But more comprehensively, as the Ramban (Nachmanides) emphasizes in his commentary on the Torah, Haazinu speaks of and recounts our entire history.

Z'khor yemot olam, "Remember days long gone by, ponder the years of each generation; ask your father and he will tell you, and your elders and they will explain it to you" (32,7). The portion then goes on to describe Israel's entry to their Land, the sins there, the terrible exile, and finally – the return and the Redemption.

The centrality of Haazinu is based on two point. First, Israel's history teaches that the Torah is not just a book on the shelf, but rather a song, a song of life, the Torah of life. Our mission is to live the Torah and to bring it to the reality of the world. The path is long and winding, filled with stumbling blocks and failures – but in the end, it will lead us to success and Redemption for the entire world.

The second aspect of Haazinu's importance is explained in the very mitzvah that it be written down and studied: "… so that this song will be a witness for the children of Israel… And when they are beset by many troubles and evils, this song shall attest for them like a witness… for I knew their inclinations… even before I brought them into the Land…" (31,19-21).

The Torah is telling us that there will come a time during the terrible centuries of Exile when Jews will fear, as the accursed Replacement doctrine (supersessionism) held, that, Heaven forbid, G-d's plan for the world to bring Redemption via the Jewish People had failed. "Behold," went the theology, "Israel has sinned and is being terribly punished and humiliated; the Jews are a desecration of His Name, and are now being replaced."

At that time, all we have to do is open up the Song of Haazinu and see that this was the entire Divine plan all along! G-d knew, as we read in these very verses, that Israel would sin and that would be exiled – and with this in mind, He created the world, the Torah, the Jewish People, and the entire world! For in terms of history and nations, there is no Free Will as there is for individuals; everything is pre-determined. (The Ramchal, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, 18^th-century author of the classic work Mesilat Yesharim, expands on this topic at length.)

When we need this reassurance, the Song of Haazinu will strengthen and encourage us to continue and bear the torch, carrying it down through the generations, and to remember and believe that just as the difficult parts of Haazinu came true, so too will those aspects that deal with our Redemption.

As the Ramban wrote: If we were to find the writings of some fortune teller who was able to successfully predict and accurately describe many events that had not yet happened, would we not then believe his writings concerning events that have not yet occurred? How much more so, then, regarding this poem, written by the Creator of the World Himself, which describes many events that later came to pass, that we also believe in its conclusion, which states, "He will reconcile His people [to] His Land" (32,43) – may it be speedily in our days, Amen.

Nitzavim: A Little-Known Commandment

by Rav Shai Tachan, Rosh Kollel Shaarei Ezra, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

At the end of Parashat Nitzavim (which we read aloud this Shabbat, together with Parashat Vayelech; D'varim 29,9-31,30), we read of the importance of loving and actually "cleaving to" G-d, "for He is your survival and long life in dwelling in the Land that He swore to your forefathers…" (30,20).

"Cleaving to G-d" is, in fact, a positive Torah commandment (see D'varim 13,5 and 10,20). Since it is a relatively less-known mitzvah, let us elaborate here upon it, for it is a Torah commandment no less binding than that of keeping the Sabbath and reciting the Kriat Shma.

Let us begin with an explanation as to how exactly one is to "cleave" to G-d. Our Sages related to this point (Tr. Ketubot, p. 111b), asking: "Is it at all possible to cling to the Divine Presence? For it is written, "The Lord your G-d is a consuming fire” (D'varim 4,24)!" 

The Sages of the Talmud answer: "One who marries his daughter to a scholar, and who does business with Torah scholars, and who benefits Torah scholars with his wealth – the Torah relates to him as if he were clinging to the Divine Presence."

We thus learn from our Sages' holy words that when a person clings to the scholars of the Torah, it is literally considered as if he is clinging to the holy Presence.

Later rabbinic authorities expand on this approach. The Sefer Mitzvot Gadol explains that the ultimate goal of adhering to Torah sages is in order to learn their ways. The Sefer HaChinukh adds that this means to learn from them how to fulfill the commandments of the Torah and what is the correct Torah outlook. That is, one should not think that he can understand all the Torah's mitzvot and other teachings on his own; no true autodidacts exist in Torah. We must make sure to study with Torah scholars and not rely on our own understanding. 

Interestingly, even though this law is cited by Maimonides (Deot 6,2), there are those who explained this commandment more literally. For instance, Nachmanides (to D'varim 11,22) remarkably writes the following: 

"The commandment of adhering to G-d means to remember and love G-d always; your thoughts should never part from Him, neither when you walk on the way, or lie down to sleep, or awaken. To the point that when you speak with people, it will be only with your mouth, while your heart will be elsewhere, before G-d."

Clearly, Nachmanides is not disputing Maimonides, who echoed the Talmud's words. Rather, the former explains that this mitzvah can be understood on two levels: one according to the expositions of the Sages, as the Rambam wrote, and the other according to the straightforward meaning of the verses. In fact, that which Nachmanides wrote appears as well in Maimonides' codex of laws, albeit as part of a different Torah commandment: "to love God." Specifically, the latter wrote in his Laws of Repentance (10,3):  

"What is the proper degree of love? That a person should love God with a very great love until his soul is bound up in this love. Thus, he will always be occupied with this love as if he is lovesick for a woman, whose thoughts are never diverted from loving her; he is always occupied with her: when he sits down, when he gets up, when he eats and drinks. Love for God should be even greater… as the Torah charges (D'varim 6,5), "Love God... with all your heart and with all your soul,” and as Solomon wrote metaphorically (Song of Songs 2,5), “I am lovesick;” indeed, Song of Songs in general is a parable depicting this love for G-d."

[Here the author elaborates on additional Rabbinic formulations: Rabbeinu Bachye writes that the commandments of Love for G-d and Cleaving to G-d are one and the same; the Chovot HaLevavot says that cleaving to G-d is a matter of true and complete love for G-d; and the Mesilat Yesharim states that "cleaving" is a branch of the mitzvah of "loving G-d."]

Elsewhere, we explained that there are three aspects of our relationship with the Creator: Sometimes it is like a son to a father, sometimes like a servant to his master, and sometimes like lovers, i.e., husband and wife. Here we see that the mitzvah under discussion is a manifestation of our relationship with G-d as husband and wife. These verses make it clear how strongly Hashem seeks a deep and close relationship with us, and that He anticipates that we feel towards Him the same closeness that He feels towards us. 

The Rambam used the metaphor of love between a man and woman quite purposefully to describe our relationship with G-d. It would not even be an exaggeration to say that G-d created the entire institution of marriage in order that we learn from it how we should feel towards Him.

Vayelech: Hidden Within the Hidden – Not Hidden at All!

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

A rabbi and teacher par excellence once met with an elderly Holocaust survivor, and the two spoke of matters of faith. The survivor said, "I grew up in a Hassidic family, filled with Torah and awe and fear of Heaven, and my parents raised me to always believe that G-d runs the world with beneficence and goodness."

"But then," the man continued, "when the Shoah happened to us, and I saw so much evil, I realized that my parents had been mistaken. I knew it could not be that G-d the Good would run a world with so much evil in it. I therefore became a total heretic and stopped keeping the commandments."

The rabbi said, "Your parents were mostly right, but they erred in one thing: G-d is not good!"

The Shoah survivor was shocked at what he had heard, and after a moment of confusion, he reacted sharply: "Not true! My parents were right! G-d is good…"

The rabbi used an educational trick in this exchange. He sensed that deep down, this Jew was still totally connected with all his soul to his parents' traditions, and that in his heart, his belief in G-d was still strong – but that he had great anger at G-d because of his horrific Shoah experiences. His abandonment of Torah was just a manifestation of his pain, the rabbi realized, and that when push would come to shove, the Jew could not but cry out in faith in G-d with confidence in His goodness.

This approach can also be used in the face of difficult questions of faith asked by our youth - if the teacher or parent truly understands the child and where he is coming from. Sometimes, their questions are simply a way of acting out, expressing anger, etc. – but if someone were to tell them that their objections were correct, they would show their true colors of faith.  

The Same Divine Game

In truth, this is how G-d often acts with us, with this same educational "trick." In this week's Torah portion (a double reading, Nitzavim and Vayelech, D'varim 29,9 to 31,30), Hashem tells Moshe: "Know that the Nation of Israel will sin in the future; I will be angered at them and even abandon them, hiding My face, and they will undergo great tribulations" (see 31,16-21). "Haster astir panai – I will totally hide My face on that day…" (verse 18). 

This is why G-d insists that the song of Haazinu would comprise the next chapter in the Torah, D'varim 32 – so that when Israel experiences great tribulations, such as the Shoah, the song will be a testimony that G-d knew this all in advance.

And what will that help? Why is it important to have advance testimony? 

The explanation is that even though G-d says that He will hide from us, the very fact that He is telling us this in advance means that He is not really hidden! It is all known in advance; it's as if the game was "thrown" ahead of time, and is simply a Divine scheme. As such, everything – even His concealment – is part of G-d's revelation in the world!

After all, if we know in advance that someone will hide, and where, he cannot really be said to be hiding.

This is a Path to Teshuvah

This insight is actually a way for us to repent of our errant ways and sins. Many know the popular song Vaafilu b'hastarah sheb'tokh hahastarah, but have trouble with its exact meaning. It is infact based on the words of Rabbe Nachman of Breslov, who wrote it to explain the Torah's double use in the above passage of the word for "concealment," haster astir (of the same root as hastarah). 

Rabbe Nachman wrote: "And even in the concealment that is within the concealment, I am most certainly found there as well – for there is nothing that can exist without the vitality given by G-d; for without His life-force, it would have no existence at all" (Likutei Moharan 56,3). 

The idea is that there are two levels of concealment. If Hashem is hidden only once, it's true that He is "hidden," but we know it, and this gives us the ability to look for and find Him. But, if he is "hidden within a concealment," this is a situation in which we don't even know that G-d is hidden there, and we don't know to look for Him there!  But in truth, even there, G-d's life-force is present.

And where is this place of hastarah within hastarah? Rabbe Nachman explains that "even if, Heaven forbid, one commits a sin or deed against G-d's will – still and all, G-d's energy is there." That is, the sin is the place of hastarah within hastarah. Let us assume that we understand that, but how do we understand that a sin has G-d's life-force within it?

The answer is that G-d gives man life at every moment; if not, he would die on the spot. The same is true even for a sinner, of course; his capacity for sinning comes from G-d, as does all life. And even if we may not be able to explain it, we see that even "sin" is part of the Divine program.

And this is precisely why Hashem gave us the ability to repent, do teshuvah, and actually rectify our sins. Because when we regret and repent having left G-d's will, and understand that He is He Who runs everything and is found in everything, and desire to fix our sins via regret, verbal acknowledgement, and abandonment of sin – we show that G-d is found even in the "hastara of the hastarah," meaning that there is actually no Divine concealment at all. 

And to take it another step deeper – which we will not do here – this also can help us understand the Talmudic teaching that when one repents out of love, his purposeful sins actually turn into merits (Tzidkat HaTzaddik 40). 

May we merit to repent fully and do complete teshuvah, and experience G-d's revelation in His return to Zion with compassion!

Ki Tavo: The Torah's Harsh Rebuke Leads to Good Things

by Rav Dov Lior, former Chief Rabbi of Kiryat Arba and Hevron, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The central theme of this week's Torah portion of Ki Tavo (D'varim 26,1-29,8) is the blessings and curses that Israel took upon themselves just days before the passing of Moshe Rabbeinu. This is the covenant made in the plains of Moav, since the covenant made at Horeb (Mount Sinai) nearly 40 years earlier had been broken by them.

The main point of the covenant is the belief in Divine Reward and Punishment. This is one of the foundational principles of faith, as Maimonides enumerates in his Thirteen Principles of Faith. What this requires of us is to observe what is happening around us – that which happens to myself as an individual, and even more so, what happens to our community and nation. We do not have the luxury of thinking that everything is mere coincidence. There are no coincidences, neither for the individual nor for the community; everything that happens is the result of our actions, for better or worse.

Moshe Rabbeinu, as he winds up his parting speech to the Israelites, is very harsh here in Chapter 28. Though he begins with words of blessing, most of it is what is known as tokhe'ha, sharp rebuke and threat of dire punishment if Israel does not adhere to the commandments of the Torah. In verse 59, he uses an unfamiliar term in his depiction of the plagues that could come upon us: "V'hifla [from the root meaning 'wondrous'] your punishments, terrible and relentless…"

The Medrash states: "V'hifla – I do not know what that is. But when the Prophet states, 'I will continue to mafli this nation hafle vafele, and the wisdom of its sages will be lost and the understanding of its wise men will be hidden' [Yeshayahu 29,14, using three different forms of the word in question], we see that it means the loss of tzaddikim."

That is, if Divine Providence brings upon us a plague or punishment of any kind, and there are those in our midst who know how to understand and explain to the public why and because of whom and what the punishment came, this means that the blow achieved its goal, the public will repent, and the punishment will end and disappear.

However, if the righteous have departed us, and there is no one to open the people's eyes to what is happening, then the sins, and the consequent punishments and suffering will continue to exist among us. This is what the Torah refers to here as "relentless plagues" (ne'emanot, literally meaning "faithful" and consistent); the punishments do not end but rather continue indefinitely.

We live in a period in which we cannot easily point to specific people who have the ability to open our eyes, to teach the community why and wherefore various difficulties come upon us. There is no other country in the world that is threatened by its enemies near and far with destruction simply because it exists. Our security inside and outside our homes throughout the country is not guaranteed. Any day that goes by without a terrorist attack or attempted attack is a type of miracle; regarding this, we say in our prayers, "regarding all Your miracles that are with us every day."

Sadly, however, if someone wants to comment on something having to do with the difficulties that we are experiencing, he is immediately labeled an extremist whose words should be ignored. And so we continue to tread water, with no clear path out of the international entanglement, politically and militarily. This, of course, in addition to sociological problems such as increased violence among the youth, a decline in morality, and more.

However: At this difficult time, we have the holy opportunity and mission to rise to the occasion, and redouble our efforts. We must not give in to despair or to weakness. We must rather continue even more strongly to teach and exhibit the ideals of Torah and sanctity of life, to increase our commitment one to another and to our society, and to strengthen the Jewish presence in every part of the Land of Israel. I have no doubt that if we do what we must do, there will be great Heavenly help, siyata dishmaya, and our nation will return to itself and to G-d, and we will merit to see the Redemption of our Nation and Land.

Ki Tetzei: Retrieving Our Lost Strengths

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

This week's Torah portion of Ki Tetzei (Deuteronomy 21,10 through Chapter 25) begins with this verse: "When you go out to war with your enemy, and G-d gives him into your hand, and you take captives…"  Though this is referring to a physical enemy, as the succeeding verses indicate clearly, it can also be understood, as the saintly R. Simcha Bunem of Pshischa explained, as referring to one's personal battle with his own negative inclinations and urges.

In the work HaLekach v'HaLibuv by R. Avraham Schorr (son of R. Gedalya Schorr), he asks how "taking captives" can be understood in the context of a battle with the Yetzer Hara (Evil Inclination). He also asks why the Hebrew word here for "captives" is shivyo, implying that the captive we might take was previously captive in the hands of the enemy; how can this be understood?

R. Schorr answers as follows, based on the Sfat Emet: Later in the Torah portion, we read, 'Do not see your brother's ox or sheep wandering lost – and ignore them; return them to your brother… But if you don't know who the owner is, they shall remain with you until he comes to collect them.'" There are different types of things that a person can lose – and must later retrieve.

For in truth, every individual person is granted many strengths from Heaven – strengths of the soul and of the bodily organs – for the purpose of using them to fulfill G-d's will, to fulfill His commandments and learn His Torah. But when a person uses these abilities to satiate his own needs and lusts, or to actually violate G-d's word and will, these strengths are then taken from him, and then much hard work is needed in order to restore them to his domain.

The Talmud states (Betzah 16a): "G-d gives an 'extra soul' (neshama yetera) to a person on Sabbath eve, and it is taken from him when the Sabbath departs – as written (Sh'mot 31,17): "He ceased and rested, shavat vayinafash [the first syllable of the second word is pronounced vay, an expression of sorrow]: Once He ceased, then vay - the soul [nefesh] was lost."

The Baal Shem Tov famously asks: "The verse speaks of the beginning of the Sabbath, so why did the Sages derive from it a lesson regarding the end of the Sabbath?"

The Sfat Emet answers that when the Sabbath arrives, a person senses what he lost during the days of the week, and the thirst to find his lost spiritual items is aroused within him. That is to say, throughout the workweek, a person is lost in his This-Worldly pursuits, and he "forgets" to seek out his lost spirituality. Instead, his desires are for material matters, not those that G-d specifically wills. But on the Sabbath, the "day of souls," a person's grasp of the truth becomes stronger and he remembers that which he lost, and he says, "Vay, my true soul was lost!" And then, by remembering and searching for it, he can retrieve the lost object.

This also explains why the Torah implies here (from the word shivyo) that the "captive" was previously held in the enemy's hands: This is referring to the strengths of the soul that were lost and taken captive by the Yetzer Hara during the work-week when a person was in his weaker state.

But when a person fulfills "When you go out to war with your enemy," and charges out to fight his negative urges – he merits to restore his lost powers, and take back his captives that had been lost to the yetzer hara.

We read in Proverbs: "Distance your way from [the strange woman] ... lest strangers be sated with your strength and your labors be in the house of an alien" (5,8-10). This can be understood to mean that when one sins, strangers – external forces – come and take his strengths and become satiated from them. One who has fallen into this trap is then advised to 'You alone shall have them, and strangers shall have nothing with you" (ibid. 17). Righteous ones tell us that the Hebrew initials of the last four words in this verse spell out Elul, which is the month of repentance – telling us that when we repent completely of our sins and do good deeds, we merit that our spiritual forces remain only for ourselves ("you alone"), and will not be used by evil forces; strangers will no longer have control over them.

As stated, when one's energies have been lost to the Yetzer Hara, they are held captive by it – but when he does teshuvah and seeks back these strengths, he can restore them to his own domain.

Elul is also an acronym for other significant phrases. The Sfat Emet cites the verse (Yeshayahu 48,11), "And I will not give My glory to another" (V'chvodi L'acher Lo Eten). He explained that during the days of Elul, the gates of mercy are opened for our return to Hashem. And the most famous acronym in this regard is "I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine" (Ani L'dodi V'dodi Li, Shir HaShirim 6,3).

Therefore, the forces of evil have no ability to hide G-d's countenance; "I will not give My glory to another." For in the month of Elul, man is able to take and restore the lost spiritual forces that were in the "other's" jurisdiction. Elul is the unique time for awakening and seeking out and restoring our lost energies. This is done via the blowing of the shofar during each weekday of Elul, which arouses our will.

For G-d most certainly fulfills the commandment of "returning lost objects," as the Sages said: "A Heavenly voice goes out every day from Horev [Mt. Sinai] and declares, 'Woe unto mankind for the insult to Torah" (Pirkei Avot 6,2) – reminding us to seek out what we have lost.

And this is the special nature of the holy days of Elul: Buried within them is a unique force that arouses man from his slumber, calling on him to seek out that which he has lost over the year, in order to finally merit that which is alluded to in the verse above, "until [you] come to collect it."

Shoftim: Standing Silently By

by Rav Moshe Tzuriel ZT"L, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Among the many mitzvot (commandments) in this week's Torah portion of Shoftim (D'varim 16,18-21,9), we read: "The testimony of one witness [regarding a crime] may not be accepted; a case must be established through the testimony of two or three witnesses" (19,15).

The Sages ask (Makkot 5b): "If the testimony of two witnesses is sufficient, why did the Torah state 'two or three'"?

Several answers are offered; let us focus on that of Rabbe Akiva, who said: "The purpose is to exact a price on the third witness, and equate his punishment to that of the first two." That is, if they are found to have lied, not only are the first two witnesses punished, but also the third one – and he cannot claim, 'My words made no difference, since there were already two witnesses, so why should I be punished?'"

The Gemara adds there: "If one who merely joins up with other sinners is punished, how much more so is one rewarded for joining up with those who do good deeds!"

In any event, we learn from this a major principle in "national education:" When the authorities commit an injustice, such as the expulsion of residents from Gush Katif and handing over parts of the Land of Israel to foreigners, it is forbidden to take part! That is, even if police and military forces have already gathered in numbers sufficient to complete the mission, and then other soldiers or police officers are recruited to take part as well, the latter cannot claim that they bear no guilt because the plan can be completed without them. Rather, anyone who joined up with the forces, in whatever role, is guilty – and must repent for this sin. His t'shuvah (repentance) must be a personal decision to never again take any part in evicting Jews from their homes, and also by publicly declaring and educating others that such a great sin must never be repeated.

I would add that we are reminded to speak about this specifically now, because the days of t'shuvah are fast approaching and every Jew must correct what he corrupted in the past.

It is interesting to note that a disagreement has developed among several of the rabbis of the religious-Zionist camp. Some say that a soldier must obey all military commands, even regarding the eviction of Jews from their homes, while others claim that it is forbidden to obey orders that directly contradict Torah law. The latter cite the Rambam, who wrote, "If the king decreed to abrogate a commandment, he is not listened to" (Laws of Kings 3,9, based on Sanhedrin 49a). Several rabbis were interviewed in the media this week who instructed their students to obey the army's orders regarding the eviction of Jews from a building in Hebron. It is puzzling to me that I did not hear any of those rabbis relate to the apparent violation of the Rambam's halakhic ruling.

It should also be noted that no Rosh Yeshivat Hesder pre-military academy head is permitted to rule on this "question," because of his personal "interests" (biases) regarding continued funding from the Ministry of Defense for his yeshiva.

Back to the fundamental point: A person will have to account in the Heavenly court for having stood by sinners, and will be punished for not having protested their acts. This concept is also seen elsewhere in the Torah, such as regarding the rebellion of Korach and his gang. When Moshe Rabbeinu heard that there was to be a Divine punishment, he declared before all, "Move away from the tents of these evil people… lest you be consumed by [the punishment for] their sins" (Bamidbar 16,26). This raises the question: Since G-d knows who is guilty and who is not, what's the difference where they all stood? G-d could have punished only those who actively rebelled!

The answer is: "Woe to an evil person, woe to his neighbor" (Mishna Nega'im 12,6). The very fact that the neighbor did not distance himself from an evil person brings upon him punishment. 

Our Sages were clear on this point: "Distance yourself from a bad neighbor" (Ethics of the Fathers 1,7). Rabbeinu Yonah explains that this means that one must not think that he can join up with the evil ones only temporarily, or even just superficially – because he could end up being punished simply for being with him and not protesting.

This of course also applies to being with people who speak gossip, slander, or impure/unclean speech. See also Proverbs 22,14, from which is learned that everyone in the vicinity of a sinner will be punished, unless they protested.

Our military failures in the Second Lebanon War, a year after the Disengagement, refute the position of those young rabbis who instructed their students not to disobey IDF orders during that expulsion of Jews. They claimed that disobeying orders would weaken the IDF. But look at what happened: The result was exactly the opposite of what they thought!

Contrast this with the ruling of the venerable Rabbi Dov Lior about a month ago: When religious soldiers received an order to join the IDF forces preventing citizens from marching on foot to the destroyed settlement of Homesh, they asked his counsel whether to obey the instructions. He answered them that the role of the IDF is to protect us from our foreign enemies, and that it is not its role to prevent Jews from settling their land, and that using the soldiers for this purpose is a political and invalid use of the IDF by the authorities.

How fortunate we are that it is in our power to correct the past through repentance.

Re'eh: The King is in the Field, Ready to Receive Us

by Rav David Dov Levanon, former President of the Jerusalem Rabbinical Court, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The month of Elul is approaching, and this Shabbat we will recite the prayer for blessing, peace, sustenance, and all good things during the coming month. In fact, we recite this prayer on the Sabbath before almost every month, which is why we call these Shabbatot the Sabbaths of mevarchim, "[reciting] blessings."

This week, we read the Torah portion of Re'eh (D'varim 11,26-16,17), which begins with a critical choice that G-d places before us: "See, I place before you today blessing and curse [on Mounts Gerizim and Eval, respectively]: the blessing is that you hear [in order to fulfill] the mitzvot…] and the curse is if you do not…" (11,27-28).

The straightforward meaning is that the very hearing of G-d's word is the blessing. And in fact, this remains the theme from here on for several Torah portions. That is, physical and material blessings are promised us only in Parashat Ki Tavo (D'varim 28), while the primary blessing is in simply listening to G-d's words.

The Alter Chabad Rebbe of Liadi wrote in his work "Likutei Torah" of the greatness and loftiness of the month of Elul, during which the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy shine. He even asked: "Why are these days not celebrated as a Festival just like Yom Kippur?" He answered that the days of Elul are days in which "the King is in the field," meaning that it is possible to meet Him anywhere, even while wearing the weekday clothes used for working in the field. That is, the Shechinah (Divine Presence) dwells within Elul, even though it consists of regular weekdays.

It would seem appropriate to explain this parable of "the King is in the field" in connection to Elul and based on a parable in a Medrash cited by the Tur (Orach Chaim 581):

"A city once owed taxes to the king but did not pay him. He came to them with an army to collect it. When he approached within ten parsahs [a unit of distance], the elders came out to greet him, and said, 'We have nothing with which to pay you.' The King granted them a discount of one-third. When he came closer, the middle-level leaders came, and he discounted them another third. Finally, when the King came very close, the entire town came out to greet him, and he erased the final third of the debt. So too, Hashem our King: The townspeople commit sins throughout the year, and then before Rosh HaShanah, the elders fast, and G-d forgives them a third of their sins; during the Ten Days of Repentance, the "in-betweens" fast, and G-d forgives them another third; and on Yom Kippur, everyone fasts, and He forgives them for everything…"

In the parable, the king has left his palace - analogous to the fact that the Holy Temple has been destroyed and the Shechinah itself is in Exile. The time for this, of course, is Tisha B'Av – right after which begin the Seven Weeks of Consolation, in which the King returns to His children and commiserates with them, striving to return to His home.

With this, we see that the words of the Medrash shine with meaning: In the month of Elul, the King is in the field, walking towards His sanctuary, in anticipation that his subjects will come towards Him, He will forgive their sins, and He will renew His kingship over them for goodness and blessing. This explains why the Likutei Torah added that the greatness of the days of Elul lies in the fact that "the King is in the field" – He is in movement, hoping for reconciliation and anticipating that his people will come meet Him. These days are therefore even more exalted than when the King is in His palace, hidden and concealed from all eyes, making it difficult for us to draw close to Him.

Another concept regarding the parable of "the King is in the field" stems from a comparison between Rosh Hashanah and the first day of Nissan, six months later. Nissan is the month in which the miracles of the Exodus from Egypt occurred; hence its name "Nissan" (from Nissim, Hebrew for "miracles"). This is the month in which Israel proudly and gloriously left Egypt, a month attributed to the Jewish people, and also the "head of months," symbolizing renewal and reinvention, just like the birth of the new moon.

In contrast, Tishrei is the beginning of the natural year; summer has ended and the winter is arriving once again. This "new year" hints at the natural world, influenced by the sun, the great driving force of nature. This is why Rosh Hashanah applies to all inhabitants of the world, the day on which the year's rains and personal sustenance are decreed. As such, the commandment of the day on Rosh Hashanah is to crown G-d over the entire universe, meaning over the natural world as well.

Our Sages (Tr. Rosh HaShanah 10b) differed as to the month of the Final Redemption: R. Eliezer says it will be in Tishrei, when the world was created, for he verses feature shofar both on Rosh HaShanah and in the great shofar blast of Future Days. R. Yehoshua says it will be in Nissan, based on Sh'mot 12,42 that speaks of the Exodus night as a 'night of watching' – a reference to a night that was watched and anticipated ever since Creation.

These opinions correspond to the two paths of redemption: miraculous, via the clouds of the heavens, and natural, with the Messiah arriving on a donkey. It would seem that the miraculous Redemption is appropriate for the month of Nissan, the month of miraculous salvations, when Israel merited to be like tzaddikim. But if we do not merit this, because of our sins, we require the month of Tshuvah (repentance), and then the Redemption will be via natural means, as is appropriate for Tishrei. It appears that the type of worship and service required for this is the knowledge that "the King is in the field" – He is everywhere, including in the natural world. And this is the preparation required of us before Rosh HaShanah, the day of judgement for the world of nature.

This returns us to the verses with which we opened, which require sharp and clear seeing and hearing! This is because the Torah is referring to the blessing found in the work of our hands, by virtue of the fact that we strive to contemplate and find G-d's Providence upon us in everything we do.

Ekev: True Trust: Not What it Sounds Like

by Rav Ariel Farajun, Individual and Couples Therapist, Former Rosh Yeshiva, and Senior Lecturer in Jewish Psychology, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Moshe Rabbeinu continues his parting speech to the Children of Israel in this week's Torah portion of Ekev (D'varim 7,12-11,25). This is just before his death and as the nation is about to enter the promised Land of Israel without him. As he emphasizes the importance of keeping the Torah as they begin their national life in the Holy Land, one of the important points Moshe makes is that of bitachon, trust in G-d's providence over Israel.

Moshe says here: "If you say in your heart: 'These nations are stronger than me, how will I be able to defeat them?' Do not fear them; remember that which Hashem your G-d did to Pharaoh and all of Egypt… Do not cringe before them, for Hashem is in your midst, great and awesome…" (7,17-21).

And a bit further on we read: "Hear O Israel, you are passing today over the Jordan to come and inherit nations that are greater than you… Make sure to know today that Hashem is the One Who passes before you, a consuming fire; He will destroy them before you…" (9,1-3)

The mitzvah of having bitachon is a great fundamental in the service of G-d. It is mentioned numerous times in the Torah, and rolls around frequently on our tongues in everyday speech. Yet is seems that its precise definition, even though it is discussed at length among our early commentators, still requires elaboration and precision.

The primary thing we must emphasize is that, contrary to popular misconception, bitachon does not mean to trust in G-d that He will definitely do that which we are hoping for. Rather, it is that we pray and hope to Him, and rely on Him. Perhaps this can be understood on a lesser level in the manner that we feel about having a gun: One who goes into a dangerous neighborhood armed with a gun trusts in it not because it will definitely save him, but rather because it gives him reason to hope…

This is why our Sages always combine bitachon with prayer, which is in fact considered the ultimate expression of bitachon (see for instance, Mechilta D'Rebbe Yishmael, Bshalach 2). In addition, one must always take into account his own sins and know that these have an effect on whether his prayers will be answered. To know that G-d might not grant his wishes is not a lack of bitachon; on the contrary, one who knows that his salvation is in G-d's hands will realize that his own deeds and attitude to G-d are very instrumental. And then, after one truly views the world in this manner, he can feel confident that G-d will protect him and grant him that which is best for him.

Thus, when one is in great need or trouble, he must not strengthen his bitachon by saying that everything will certainly turn out fine. Rather, he must concentrate his thoughts on the fact that Hashem rules His world, and that "no one stubs his finger below unless it was determined beforehand in Heaven" (Tr. Chullin 7b). Internalizing this reality is the true measure of one's bitachon.

At the same time, the Torah does not at all negate one's physical efforts. In fact, we are commanded to work together with the natural law that G-d imbued in His world. This must be done with the understanding that it is not these efforts that will make the ultimate difference, but rather with the idea that G-d's will is that we make both spiritual and physical efforts to achieve the goals for which we strive.

This Torah portion of Ekev comes to warn us that we must remember that G-d fights for us against our enemies, no matter how much stronger they are, and also gives us the strength to succeed. This message is not simply meant to calm and relax us, but rather to teach us how to use the weapons we have. When we understand that the battle is determined by G-d's will, and that our efforts are merely part of the Divine game – this means we have true bitachon, and in this merit, G-d will be with us, no matter what qualitative or quantitative advantages we face!

Ekev: The Laws, Statutes, and "Smart Ideas"

by Rav Avraham Tzuckerman, the late co-founder with Rabbi Moshe Tzvi Neriah of Kfar HaRoeh, the first modern Yeshiva High School, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The commandments of the Torah include Chukim (statutes), Mitzvot (commandments), and Mishpatim (often translated as "ordinances").

Chukim are laws between man and God that our intellect is incapable of explaining. Mitzvot are commandments that set the norms of Jewish community life; we ourselves might not have established them, but we understand their rationale. Mishpatim are laws between man and his fellow man that, even if the Torah had not commanded us to follow them, we would have established them ourselves to regulate daily life.

The final verse in last week's Torah portion mentions all three of these, while interestingly, the first verse in this week's portion of Ekev mentions only the Mishpatim: "If you adhere to these Mishpatim, and safeguard and observe them, G-d will remember for you the Covenant and kindness that He swore to your forefathers" (D'varim 7,12). Logically speaking, it should have been the opposite: Such a beautiful promise of reward should have been given us if we follow the Chukim and the Mitzvot, which human logic either cannot grasp or would not have grasped. But why do we deserve such Divine reward for simply following mitzvot that are so logical that we would have instituted them on our own?

We read in Tehillim: "The laws (mishpatim) of G-d are truth, righteous together" (19,10). This tells us that that there is a measure of "statute" even in our logical laws, and there is also logic in the statutes. Similarly with the mitzvot that come to remember important principles, such as Passover and Sabbath, there are elements of logic and illogic together. He who truly understands the depth of "there is no singularity like ours" can also understand the true depth of all the mitzvot, including those between man and man; they are more than simply "smart ideas."

This also explains that even regarding laws that the nations of the world also follow exactly as the Torah commands, we may not be judged by them in their courts. As King David wrote, "His statutes and laws are for Israel… the other nations do not know the laws" (Tehillim 147,18-19); they cannot grasp the inner meaning of the laws of the Torah. This is why we read here: "If you adhere to these Mishpatim… G-d will remember for you the Covenant and kindness that He swore to your forefathers."

Furthermore: The word used here at the beginning of Ekev signifies that we are to keep the mitzvot with joy and happiness, in which case "G-d will remember for you the Covenant and kindness." And as we saw, this applies specifically to the Mishpatim; the Chukim and other commandments were not mentioned here. This is because the latter are unique and Divinely-ordained, and people keep them more "religiously;" they are not routine for us. But the inter-personal laws, such as ensuring not to insult others or embarrass them, are easily overlooked – and it is these that bring the promise of remembering the Divine covenant and kindness that was promised to our Forefathers. For it was specifically these that our Patriarch Abraham made sure to pass down to his descendants: "For I know him that he will command his household after him, and they will keep G-d's way to do charity and mishpat" (B'reshit 18,19).

And therefore it brings joy before G-d when the seed of his beloved Avraham are careful to observe mitzvot that might become rote and fulfill them with joy. And just as it was the way of the Forefathers to practice charity and "mishpat" – charity and righteousness in their dealings with others, while demanding "mishpat" and meticulousness from themselves – this is what is demanded from us, their offspring, as well. As the Sages derive from the first verse in Ekev: "If you adhere" – the word Ekev is used here, which also means "heel," implying that we must specifically fulfill the mitzvot that we might otherwise generally kick aside with our heels and not attribute them much importance.

Tisha B'Av: Mourning the Past – and Working for the Future: What R. Azuali Learned from the Women

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

The renowned Rav Chaim Yosef David Azulai, known as the Chida, once came upon a Jewish town during his travels, and saw the women cleaning and painting their homes on Tisha B'Av afternoon. The Chida believed this was forbidden on Tisha B'Av, as it represented joy and distraction from the mourning for the Holy Temple and Jerusalem, and sharply advised the local rabbis to ban it immediately.

When he returned home from the synagogue, the Chida saw some women whispering and pointing at him. He asked what they were saying, and was told that they were saying about him, "That holy rabbi from Jerusalem said that the Mashiach will not come this year!"

The Chida could not understand how they had reached that conclusion, and one woman finally explained, "Every year, we prepare our homes on Tisha B'Av for the Mashiach, but this year you forbade us to prepare for his arrival."

Upon hearing this, the Chida immediately changed his ruling: "The houses must be painted and cleaned this Tisha B'Av – not only one room, but the entire house! And the best paint must be used! And in this merit, perhaps the Mashiach will come this very day!"

In addition to the importance of Jewish customs, this story also teaches us the value of proactive anticipation of the coming Redemption. Let us elaborate.

When the Second Temple was destroyed, the Sages of the generation, under the leadership of Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai, enacted a series of regulations by which the Jewish People would always remember this national catastrophe. Their source was a verse in Jeremiah's prophecies that reads, "Zion… no one seeks her out." From the fact that the prophet is lamenting this sorry state, the Rabbis of the Talmud learn that Jerusalem must be "sought out" and remembered.

When we read this passage today, we might ask: "Who said the intention is merely to remember? Perhaps we are bidden to do something pro-active for Jerusalem, such as working to redeem it?" That is, remembering is generally about the past, while "seeking out" implies doing something for the future. Is the primary issue one of mourning the past? What about acting and building for the future?"

In fact, a look at the Talmudic list of regulations enacted "in memory of the Temple" shows that they do not only commemorate the tragedy that occurred, but also look forward to its rectification. Consider this case, for example: The new year's wheat is Biblically forbidden to be eaten until the Omer offering is waved on the second day of Passover; but if the Temple is not standing, then there is no Omer offering, and the wheat may be eaten as soon as dawn breaks. However, after the destruction, the Sages ruled that even then, the new wheat may not be eaten at all that day – and why? So that when the Temple is soon rebuilt, and the Omer offering is renewed, no one will mistakenly say, "Just like we ate the new wheat last year from the morning, so too this year!"

That is, this regulation was enacted not to mourn what was, but in order to prepare us for the construction of the future Beit HaMikdash!

Certainly throughout our long Exile, our nation lacked the practical ability to work for the physical "seeking out" and construction of Zion – and this is why we "sought it out" chiefly by remembering the past. The primary annual date for doing so is Tisha B'Av, the terrible and calamitous day when our glorious Holy Temples were burnt. On this day, even one who generally engages in building the Land and the country, sits sadly on the floor, occupying himself in his bent-over state with that which our nation is lacking.

On the other hand, as the bells of our Redemption began to ring stronger in recent decades, our people's capacity to work actively for the redemption slowly began to increase. This led to a "seeking out" that was less concerned with memories of the past, and more in actions for the future, both spiritually and practically.

Still, even now, when we are engaged proactively most of the year towards the Redemption, it would seem that on Tisha B'Av we must emphasize our grief over that which we are lacking. Proof of this is that Jewish Law forbids Torah study on this day, except for that which has to do with the destruction and the laws of mourning for it. One might have thought that at least studying the Laws of the future Temple would be permitted, so as to inspire us towards that goal. But we see that the Sages approved only that which would keep us steeped in the sense of mourning, and that this must be the atmosphere on Tisha B'Av, even nowadays.

There is a deep logic to this matter. For it is precisely the great lack of our Holy Sanctuary for more than 1,950 years that brings Israel to uplift its visions and dreams of a great, exalted rectification – which will give meaning to the crisis we are undergoing. A "quick fix" is often a bad idea, as is misses the full impact of the rectification.

It is therefore important that we perpetuate the depth of the loss – and the greater the loss and sorrow, the greater the anticipation and visionary dreams.

The Chida expressed this that day in a far-off community. At first he thought Tisha B'Av was only for mourning – but then, from the womenfolk, he understood that the picture was not complete. When the afternoon hours arrived, the time at which the Mashiach was/will be born, the women – the Congregation of Israel – felt deep inside their heart that the winds had changed, and that the time had come to shake off the dust of "only the past," and to add to it a forward-looking "seeking out."

And in fact, it is customary throughout the Jewish Nation that, amid the sorrow of Tisha B'Av, we begin to engage in longing for the Mashiach when the afternoon arrives. We are permitted to sit on chairs, for instance, and some say we may participate in regularly-scheduled Torah classes. And in our generations, Israel has begun – and is now in the thick of – working all year round for the active Redemption of Zion.

The author of the Kuzari, Rav Yehuda HaLevy, wrote that Jerusalem will be rebuilt only when we long for it to the ultimate degree. Let us therefore all dream the great dream, raise our sights o so high, and thus awaken to act for the return of the Divine Presence to Zion and for the building of the Beit HaMikdash, in our own days!

VaEtchanan: Why Did Moshe Plead Not to be Locked Out of the Land of Israel?

by Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaLevy Kil'av, zt"l, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

On this Shabbat, the Sabbath of Consolation following the fast of Tisha B'Av, we read Parashat VaEtchanan (D'varim 3,23-7,11). Its first word means "I pleaded" – Moshe Rabbeinu recounts to Israel in this, his parting speech, how he pleaded with G-d to allow him to pass through and see the Land of Israel. Reading these words we feel his love of the Land and for Israel's historic mission there.

The Medrash tells us one of the ways in which Moshe seeks to make his case:

"R. Levi said that Moshe told Hashem: O G-d, the bones of Yosef entered the land [and were buried there], and I cannot enter??" Hashem answered, "He who acknowledged his land is buried there in his land, and he who did not acknowledge his land is not buried in his land.

"What was the story with Yosef? His master's wife [who tried to seduce him] called him a 'Hebrew man' (B'reshit 39,14) and he did not deny it, and in fact later he told the Minister of Drinks that he had been kidnapped from his home in the land of the Hebrews. Moshe, however, heard the Midianite girls call him an "Egyptian man" (Sh'mot 2,19) and he did not protest – and therefore he was not to be buried in the Holy Land.

"[G-d continues:] If you are buried with them here, they will come to the Land in your merit – and then you would end up coming as well, to which I object].

"R. Levi said, 'This is similar to one whose copper coins were scattered in a dark place. He said to himself, "If I ask people to shine a light for me so that I can gather them, no one will pay attention to me."' What did he do? He took a gold coin and cast it in their midst and began shouting, "Shine a light for me so I can find my gold coin!" And they did. After finding the gold coin, he said to them. "Wait for me so that I can gather the copper coins," and he gathered them up. Thanks to the gold coin, the copper coins were gathered. So said G-d to Moshe, ‘If you are buried with them in the wilderness, they will all come by your merit, and you will come at their head,'" as is written, "he came at the head of the people”' (D'varim 33,21).

The primary job of Yosef was a material one, to prepare the nation for its historic exodus from Egypt "with vast wealth." Thus he would lay the foundation for Israeli sovereignty in the Land with wealth and economic strength. Moshe, on the other hand, brought down the Torah from heaven for Israel, building the spiritual side of the nation, their destiny. This was precisely Moshe's claim: "Yosef was responsible for the physical entry, and he entered the Land – while I, in charge of the spiritual, do not get to enter?!"

Hashem answered him, "There's a big difference: Yosef acknowledged the Land, that is, it was his reality; he saw the land as the basis for everything – and therefore he merited to complete his mission in Egypt when the Israelites left it. For Moshe, however, the land was not the primary thing; he did not "acknowledge" his connection to it." Moshe's chief mission concerns the Torah, which was actually given in the desert, not in a populated land. He belongs to the Upper spiritual side, which is not directly tied with land, and this is why he did not protest when he was called an Egyptian. The "location" was not the critical thing for him; rather his job and mission were the important matter. Moshe could therefore enter the Land only when it is in its most perfected state, when Jerusalem is built and complete with the Holy Temple at the zenith of its holiness – a tremendous sanctity that can never end and that is not followed by a destruction. However, such a level can only be reached when Israel itself is in a very superior religious state – which was certainly not the case after the Sins of the Golden Calf and the Scouts. Moshe did not complete his mission in the desert, and he had to raise up his generation in order that they be worthy of entering.

What about the Land made Moshe long so greatly to enter it?

He prayed to G-d, "Please let me go over and the good Land that is beyond [to the west of] the Jordan River, this goodly mountain [region] and the Levanon" (D'varim 4,25). Rashi explains that the "mountain" refers to Jerusalem, and the "Levanon" is the Holy Temple. That is, he wished to be an intrinsic part of building both the economic/political basis of the nation, and the spiritual center. Both these centers together, Jerusalem and the Temple, are those that give absolute wholeness and enable Israel to reach their ultimate objectives. Moshe Rabbeinu desired to live on that level spiritual loftiness that he could not attain in the desert.

Even Like an Animal!

The Sages of the Medrash D'varim Rabba (11,6) taught: "Moshe said before G-d, Master of the Universe, if You do not bring me into the Land of Israel, leave me be at least like the beasts of the field that eat grass and drink water, live, and see the world - let my soul be like one of them!"

How strange! Assuming that Moshe's desire for the Land stemmed from a love for Torah and mitzvot, what benefit could he derive from being like animal, clearly not obligated in any commandments? We must learn from here that love for the Land of Israel is not tied solely to the commandments. The Ritva, in fact, wrote at the beginning of Tractate Gittin that even that part of Eretz Yisrael that lacks the level of sanctity of "those who ascended from Bavel" still possesses the beloved quality of the Land – and this is why the Sage Rabbi Avahu would kiss the shore of Acre when he arrived there, even though those who ascended from Bavel did not conquer it and Land-dependent mitzvot do not apply there. R. Avahu displayed a unique Divine attachment to the Land, desiring to be close to holy things even if no fulfillment of practical commandments is involved.

This is why Moshe Rabbeinu requested that if he did not merit to live as a member of Am Yisrael in the highest spiritual degree of the Land - at least he would like to be in the presence of those who did merit it, and to enjoy the radiance of the Divine Presence in any form of life. Such is the importance of clinging to the Land of Israel – something we can do today, but Moshe himself was not able to do.