Vayera: Let's be Avraham, not Hagar!

by Rav Meyer Fendel zt"l,  founding dean of Hebrew Academy of Nassau County (HANC).

Note: Passages from the Torah portions of this week and last, Lekh Lekha and Vayera (B'reshit 12-22), are the focus of this article, which was originally written in a longer version for Rosh HaShanah a number of years back.

For many years I have been perplexed, and even disconcerted, by the Biblical reading for the first day of Rosh Hashanah. Why the pitiful tale of Hagar and Yishmael on the first day of the year? And why is this narrative selected before the majestic story of the Akedah (the Binding of Isaac), which is read on the second day? 

Also troubling is the contrast, where Avraham and Sarah, known far and wide for their kindness and hospitality, reject and cast Hagar and her son out of their home. Is it not hard to read of this act of seeming cruelty?

Closer analysis reveals the reason for the selection of these Torah readings, and the marvelous portrayal of parallel human experiences the Bible relates. It is a stunning study in superficial similarities - but fundamental contrasts.

First, the similarities: Both readings portray a son who appears doomed to die, but is saved by Divine intercession. In each instance, too, a parent is present to undergo the awesome trial. And in both, the Torah relates the "happy ending," wherein both Avraham and Hagar witness the miraculous salvation. 

But here the similarities end. How different are the two parents' reactions through the period of the trial, and how diverse are the transformations after these incidents.

Wasted Years in Avraham's Home

While Avraham hopefully and faithfully follows the command of G-d, walking uprightly with Yitzchak to the Akedah, Hagar wanders aimlessly in the desert. The Torah relates the plight of this woman as she loses hope and even casts the boy aside:  She threw the boy beneath the bushes, "for she could not look upon the death of the child" (21,15). She sees no hope; after all her years in the home of Avraham, she still has not even a prayer. What a waste of inspiration and a loss of opportunity. Hagar and Ishmael have learned nothing and gained nothing from their experiences in the ultimate home of generosity and faith.

Contrast this with the scene of the Akedah. Avraham binds Yitzchak, takes the knife, and then, our Sages tell us, "the eyes of Avraham [looked steadfast] into the eyes of Yitzchak, and the eyes of Yitzchak were directed to the heaven of heavens" (Yalkut Shimoni, B'reshit 22,9). 

That is, even during the seemingly last moments of his son's life, Avraham does not avert his gaze, nor does he, in despair, fail his son the last moments of comfort. His eyes look straight into his son's eyes in a strong reassuring act - and Yitzchak is moved to turn his sight heavenward. What a majestic scene, of Avraham and Yitzchak together, filled with firm faith in these last moments.  

Now let us proceed further in this remarkable contrast. Hagar, as she helplessly casts away her child, dying of thirst, is made to see a well with fresh water. She gives her son to drink, and both his and her lives are spared - but she seemingly has no appreciation or understanding of what has transpired before her eyes! Neither she nor Yishmael emerge any different from this episode than how they came in. Of Yishmael, the Torah sadly sums up, "G-d was with the lad… and he grew up and lived in the desert and became an archer" (21,20). 

Avraham, on the other hand, in the climax of the Akedah, suddenly sees a ram entangled in the bushes. With this comes the Divine command, "Do nothing to the lad." So Avraham took the ram and offered it up on the altar as a sacrifice in place of his son. He is so moved by the Divine encounter that he calls the place by G-d's name (22,14), and Yitzchak merits the great blessing to "inherit his enemies' gate [city] and all the nations of the land will be blessed by [him]" (verses 17-18). 

The Avrahams vs. the Hagars

These then are the two stories - the tale of "Hagars" and that of the "Avrahams." Amongst us today there are plenty of Hagars, those who fall into despair upon pondering the perplexing and even frightening dilemmas of life, such as contemporary issues of anti-Semitism all over the world, the ongoing threats to drive Israel into the sea, etc. These and many others leave the Hagars with just one alternative: the hopelessness of apathy. Religious observance becomes routine and mechanical, without the fire and fervor that was once so characteristic. "I don't know what to believe anymore," they often say, sometimes peppered with "Who knows what is right?" Life's problems have become too burdensome for many, and one senses that Hagar's reaction to this type of stress - aimless wandering without goal or direction - has become all too common. Hagar cast away her son, believing all was lost with nothing to live for, and then "sat down on the other side," far off and removed from the distressing situation – and this is how too many Hagars today react. 

But we also have the example of Avraham. Those who walk in his path when facing these trying situations, react positively and meet the challenge. Before Avraham takes his final steps to the Akedah, he says to his assistants, "Sit here... and I and the lad will go yonder, we will worship and come back to you." On what was based such optimism? Was he not on his way to offer his son as a sacrifice?!

This is the great message [of the juxtaposition of these two Torah readings]. The Hagars only see two choices from which they must choose: to live, or to die. They do not seek to understand what G-d is saying when He gives life instead of death. The Hagars learn nothing when life is restored in the face of what seemed to be inevitable death. G-d's voice eventually fades into forgetfulness when they return to their normal pursuits. 

For Avraham, however, ever-present in all the acts of human history is the Divine alternative, which pervades every part of the world and all the recesses of the human heart. This is the true, firm faith, belief in G-d as Master of the Universe, the G-d of history, Creator of all atoms, everlasting and infinite, Ultimate Coordinator of the orderly Universe.

This does not mean that Avraham perfectly fathoms the Divine plan – but he knows that there is a plan. For the Avrahams, life is never hopeless; it has Divine structure.

Lech Lecha: What Ungratefulness Leads To

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

In this week's Torah portion of Lech Lecha (B'reshit 12-17), we read of our Patriarch Avraham and his first steps in the Land of Israel, where he and his descendants will become a great nation that will be a blessing for the entire world (12,1-3). 

We also read of his son Yishmael and his mother Hagar. Yishmael is depicted in the Torah as ungrateful, one who not only does not appreciate what others have done for him, but actually mistreats them. And it seems clear that he inherited this negative trait from his Egyptian mother, who behaved in the same way.

Hagar began as a domestic in the home of Avraham and Sarah – a home famous already then for its holiness and kindness. Lucky for her, Sarah seemed to be unable to have children, and in her generosity of heart, arranged that Avraham take Hagar as a wife (16,3). And yet immediately Hagar began to take advantage: "Her mistress [Sarah] became cheapened in her eyes" (16,4). Instead of recognizing what Sarah had done for her, Hagar began a campaign of incitement against her. Rashi explains that Hagar said: "This Sarah, her insides are not what she presents to the world: She makes herself out to be a righteous woman, but she is not that at all – for she did not merit to become pregnant all these years, while I became pregnant right away."

Let us analyze the words our Sages ascribe to Hagar. For one thing, she calls Sarah by her first name, instead of saying "my mistress." She thus purposely seeks to negate and diminish Sarah's status as Avraham's wife, and relegate her to a position of no importance.

She also says, "This Sarah" – another way by which to put Sarah down and show her own importance. 

Hagar then casts a double accusation against Sarah: "Not only is she not the righteous person people think she is, but she brags of her supposedly righteous status and uses it for her own purposes, hoping to gain honor and more from others."

In other words, Hagar accuses Sarah of corruption and fraud, of using the prestige she created for herself to get others to trust her and receive spiritual and other guidance from her. 

This accusation is patently absurd, for Sarah was so beloved to G-d that He chose her to be the very first mother of the Chosen Nation. She was also greater than even Avraham in prophecy, for G-d told Avraham, "Whatever Sarah says to you [to do], listen to her" (21,12). We also know that the Divine Presence always dwelt in a cloud above her tent.

It is interesting to see how the Gentiles saw, or see, the concept of Divine Reward and Punishment. Hagar concluded from the fact that she became pregnant immediately that she was more deserving than Sarah. She thought that there was a Divine scoreboard that keeps track and doles out reward and punishment right away. But of course the Jews of the Torah understand that G-d's considerations are more profound than they appear on the surface. 

For instance, the Sages taught that our Matriarchs remained barren for years because He loves and knows the critical value of their prayers! They were barren – and so they prayed, and thus the world was raised up.

This is related to the primeval serpent of the story of Adam and Eve. G-d provided it with food at all time – in order that it not have to pray for nourishment, because He does not even want to hear its prayers and requests!

Hagar somehow passed on her traits of ungratefulness to her son Yishmael, who already at a young age (some say he was 16) tried to kill his half-brother Yitzchak. [This is based on the Talmud's interpretations of B'reshit 21,9, where we read of his negative behavior; the Sages say he committed idolatry, incest, and/or murder; one Sage went "light" on Yishmael and explained that he merely mocked and taunted Yitzchak regarding the large inheritance that he was expecting to receive.]

When Sarah saw this, she demanded that Avraham banish both Hagar and her son. G-d agreed with Sarah, and Avraham provided them with food and water and sent them off. When the water ran out, Hagar abandoned her son, and then began to cry. Once again, we see the same pattern: Yishmael sins, and when he is punished, he and his mother, who had also previously sinned, present themselves as the innocent victims. And instead of seeing where they went wrong, they blame the Creator for their bitter lot.

Reading this story superficially, we may be liable to think that they were treated unjustly. But on more careful analysis, it becomes clear that they brought the suffering upon themselves.

Even the very fact that the Torah tells us that Hagar distanced herself from her son "as far as the range of a bow" (21,16) is very telling. If she merely wanted not to hear her son's cries, she could have remained closer; why did she go so far, and why was the distance measured in such a strange way? 

R. Ovadiah of Bartenura explains that just as Yishmael tried to kill Yitzchak (according to one of the above Talmudic opinions) with arrows, Hagar feared that she, too, might become the victim of her son's total ungratefulness and that he would seek to kill her the same way. The message of their total lack of concern for those who helped them is once again clear.

Today as Well

Yishmael's descendants display those same traits even today. Not long ago, a Muslim woman in Israel gave birth to a baby that needed a kidney transplant. A donor was soon found: The father of an Israeli soldier who was killed in the war agreed to donate the organ from his fallen son. No sooner did this happen when the happy Arab mother proclaimed her fervent hope that her son would grow up to be a shahid, a suicide bomber. 

Another Muslim woman waiting in an Israeli hospital for medical treatment for her son was documented expressing the same wish. The life of Hamas leader Yihye Sinwar, may his name be blotted out, was saved by Israeli doctors who removed a malignant growth from his brain – and then, upon his release from prison, proceeded to lead terrorist actions, including the cruel massacre of Simchat Torah. 

Such evil is totally incomprehensible – until we remember from whence these people came. We dare not make light of the imperative to study and know our enemies.

Noah: Preventing Another Flood

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

The Generation of the Flood was quite evil, and was gravely punished with total destruction in the form of the Great Flood. Our Sages ask: What was their primary sin that led to such a fate? 

The Torah tells us: 

"Now the earth was corrupt before God, and the earth became full of hamas [all sorts of crime, often translated as "robbery"]. God saw the earth, and behold it had become corrupted…. and God said to Noah, "The end of all flesh has come before Me, for the earth has become full of hamas because of them, and behold, I am destroying them from the earth." (B'reshit 6,11-13)

The Talmud tells us: "Come and see the power of robbery: The Generation of the Flood violated every type of crime, yet the decree against them was not sealed until they extended their hands to robbery, as is written [in the above verses]."

This tells us that that generation violated even the worst sins, even those about which the Sages ruled that one must never violate even at the expense of his life: murder, incest and adultery with a married woman, and idol-worship. Still and all, the sin that capped it all off, the absolute last straw, was only robbery! After all, robbery is much less grave than murder; the stolen money can be returned, and certainly one need not die in order to avoid violating it. Why, then, was robbery that which sealed the generation's fate?

Let us turn our attention to the evil city of S'dom. When G-d saw that their sins were so great that they deserved to be destroyed, our Patriarch Avraham stood before Him and prayed: "Will you destroy even the righteous together with the wicked? Perhaps there are 50 righteous people in the city – would You not spare the place for the sake of the those 50?" (B'reshit 18,23-24)

Notice that Avraham does not ask simply that the 50 righteous people, if they exist, be spared; he asks that the entire city be spared on their account! How can this be? The S'domites are wicked people who believe in and actualize corrupt and murderous ideologies – and Avraham prays for them?! This great man who is a pillar of chessed (kindness), to whom the Prophet Micha ascribes the attribute of Divine loving-kindness (Micha 7,20) – does he not see in his mind's eye the tears of all those who were murdered and oppressed by the cruel people of S'dom? What type of kindness is it to ask G-d to spare these evil people and thus enable them to continue to spread ruthless wickedness in the world?

The answer is that Avraham certainly would not have prayed for them had he been sure that they would continue their evil ways. Rather, his prayer for them was that they would be saved by the very presence of tzaddikim in the city. He knew that as long as there were some righteous people in the city – ten, at the very least, as we see later on in his prayer – there was a chance that they would have a positive influence on their neighbors and bring about their repentance and return to ethical life. But, in the end, when Avraham saw that the city did not even have ten such righteous people, he realized that there was no chance for city-wide repentance, and he stopped praying – for in such a case, the true kindness for the world is that such evil should be totally eradicated. 

Too Late

The Thirteen Attributes of Divine Mercy include "merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abounding in goodness..." (Sh'mot 34,6). We also know that "G-d is good to all, and His compassion is over all His creatures" (Tehillim 145,9). G-d waits patiently for people to mend their ways and return to Him; He does not immediately seal their judgment for punishment. The Flood did not occur while there was even a shred of a chance that the generation would reform. Only when they reached a point of no return, where the corruption became absolute and a chance for change no longer existed, only then did "all the fountains of the great deep burst forth, and the windows of the heavens were opened" (B'reshit 7,11) for the rains of the Flood.

This explains the difference between idol worship and incest, on the one hand, and robbery. The first two are quite grave, as we stated - but they are the result of human lusts, which are difficult to control and can fool a person into thinking that the sins they lead to are not so bad. Only upon careful consideration will a person see how bad they truly are. But robbery is different. Any minimally intelligent person knows that robbery and the like have no place in a functioning society. If everyone simply grabs what he likes from someone else, society is doomed. 

And therefore: As long as the simple, logical mitzvot are observed, there is a chance that the society will continue to employ their logic to fulfill all the mitzvot. But once "all flesh had perverted its way on the earth" (6,12), and even robbery had become rampant, and there were no tzaddikim who could have a positive influence – the decree was sealed. 

Noach's Influence

One approach in understanding the first verse in this week's Torah portion is that Noach was truly a righteous person (not just relative to his generation). Since G-d is so patient and forbearing, and waits patiently for his creations to repent of their sins, he gave Noach 120 years (!) to build the Ark, in the hope that people would see him and ask him what he was doing. Noach used these opportunities to answer, "G-d is planning a great flood because of all our sins! Let us do t'shuvah and live ethically!" But after 120 years of this with no results, and after no one raised the gauntlet and all hope was lost, Noach completes the Ark – and the Flood is brought upon the earth.

The Lesson

The Torah is teaching us a critically important fundamental for our own personal lives. Even when we see around us people who committing grave crimes, let us not rush to assume that they are all evil, and "flood" them with criticism and cynicism. We must always look for the good points in each person. Let us seek out the good people wherever they are – and perhaps from them the salvation will sprout. Maybe they will enhance the goodness in the world, and the situation will begin to be reversed for the best.

The same is true in our relationships. Even if your spouse does things that anger you and that you feel are the worst – don't rush to the "flood' of divorce. Like all floods, it is very hard for the partners, and for their children and others, to recuperate from it. There are many steps to be taken before the final, most drastic one is implemented – beginning with seeing what things you do that might upset your spouse as least as much as those s/he does to you!

In addition, just as G-d saw the beautiful colors of the "rainbow in the cloud" (9,13-17), and decided never again to bring such a punishment upon mankind, we too must always remember the beautiful colors of our marriages, even when clouds sometimes cover them, and focus on them, and on how we – each spouse individually – can continue to enhance them. And then, with G-d's help, "never again will there will be floodwaters to destroy all flesh" (9,11).

Vayechi: The Message from Pharaoh's Egypt: Look Behind the Scenes

by Rav Hillel Fendel.

We conclude the first Book of the Torah this Shabbat with Parshat Vayechi. Unlike every other portion in the Torah, Vayechi is "closed off," meaning it begins neither on a new line in the Torah, nor even after a break of nine spaces. Why is this? Why is there no break between last week's portion of Vayigash and Vayechi?

Rashi gives two answers. One is that Vayechi begins with Yaakov on his deathbed, seeking not only to bless his sons but also to reveal to them the End of the exile – but it was “closed off” (concealed) from him and he was unable to do so.

The second explanation is also based on the fact that Yaakov's death was near, and once he died, "the eyes and the heart of Israel [Yaakov's descendants] were 'closed' because of the misery of the Egyptian slavery" that began, in a way, with Yaakov's death.

What can be the connection between the suffering of the slavery and Israel's closed, darkened eyes? Rav Chaim Druckman often explained that the meaning is that the children of Yaakov became blinded to the very fact that their Exile, along with its suffering, had begun.

This ties directly into the last verse of the previous Torah portion, which succinctly sums up the Israelites' new situation in Egypt as follows: "Israel dwelt in the land of Egypt, in the land of Goshen, and they acquired a stronghold there, and they were prolific and multiplied greatly." Let us explain the connection between this verse and Israel's oblivion to their new, developing situation.

The classic commentary Kli Yakar (by R. Shlomo Ephraim Luntschitz, rabbi of Prague for 15 years until his death in 1619) explains that this entire verse "is condemnatory of Israel." He says that they never should have put themselves in the position of settling so comfortably in a foreign land: "G-d had decreed upon them that they would be foreigners in [Egypt], yet they sought to be permanent residents there, in a land not theirs. They were so strongly entrenched in Egypt that they did not want to leave, and many wanted to stay even when they were already enslaved."

It is now clear: Because of their attachment to their seemingly good lives in Egypt, they forgot about returning to the Land promised to their forefathers – and did not even notice the suffering that was about to fall upon them.

The parallel to today, and to recent decades, is striking. The Ohr Same'ach, for instance – Rav Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, who died in 1926 – bemoaned in his Torah commentary that there were many Jews in his time who had grown accustomed to their lives and comforts, both spiritual and material, in the Diaspora, forgot their origins, and felt that "Berlin is Jerusalem." This, he wrote, would last for a while – until their lives would be shattered and they would again be exiled. He thus "foresaw" the Shoah that began only some years later, while others of his time did not even realize what was already beginning to happen to them – just as the sons of Yaakov did not realize what was happening to them.

In a similar manner some explain the Fast of the Tenth of Tevet that we commemorated this week. As is known, most of our prophetically-prescribed days of fasting mark one aspect or another of the destruction of the Holy Temple and the Jewish national presence in the Holy Land. The Tenth of Tevet is different: It marks not the destruction, but the beginning of the Babylonian siege on the Holy City, some seven months before the actual razing of the Temple. When the siege started outside the city walls, most Jews did not feel a thing! They went on with their lives as usual – and this raises the question: Why should a day of fasting be instituted for such a non-event?

The answer is as we have said: As we see in the lack of separation between Vayigash and Vay'chi, between the blinding of Israel's eyes and their failure to see and feel the onset of the suffering of Egyptian bondage – the beginning of all tribulations and Exiles is our blindness to what is developing, and our difficulty in realizing our own role in bringing them on.

Let us not repeat the same errors made by our ancestors more than a few times in our history. It should be easier now than ever to grasp that the Diaspora is no longer our home. Not only does the Holy Land and the State of Israel need the entire Jewish nation to return, the returning Jews need the Land and the State!

Never again may we make the mistakes of Bnei Yisrael in Egypt, of the Jews under the Bablonian siege, of our recent ancestors in Europe less than a century ago – and of some Jews living today, in 2026, throughout the comfortable countries of the West.

Vayigash: The First Yeshiva in Egypt

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

In this week's Torah portion of Vayigash (B'reshit 44,18-47,27), we read of the dramatic reunion between our Patriarch Yaakov and his long-lost-son-turned-viceroy Yosef. One of Yaakov's chief concerns when he moved his family down to Egypt was to ensure that they remain loyal to G-d and their faith.

"Regarding Yehuda, Yaakov sent him to Egypt ahead of the family to point the way…" (46,28)

The Medrash Rabba on B'reshit (95,3) teaches that Yaakov sent Yehuda to establish a Yeshiva there. Why was it so important for Yaakov to do this? Couldn't they all have just gone to Egypt together, and then set themselves up once they got there, both materially and spiritually, with homes, fields, a house for prayer, and a Yeshiva? What was the rush?

When Yaakov first set off for Egypt, we see that he was worried – as G-d told him: "Yaakov, Yaakov: I am the E-l, the G-d of your father. Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for it is there that I will make you into a great nation. I will descend to Egypt with you, and I will also bring you back again" (46,2-4).

The Medrash Yalkut Shimoni explains Yaakov's fears and thoughts: "Here I go, leaving the land of my Forefathers, the land of G-d's Divine Presence, going to a land of impurity, to live among the uncircumcised where there is no fear of G-d?!"

Whereupon, G-d said to him, "Yaakov, do not fear – I will go with you!"

Yaakov was very apprehensive that the move to Egypt, and the close proximity to Egyptian culture, would lead to a deterioration in the spiritual state of his children. This could endanger the entire future of Am Yisrael! His descendants might come under the influence of the pagan Egyptian society and be cut off from the Torah of Avraham and Yitzchak! He therefore made sure to establish a Beit Talmud, a house of study, even before the family gets there. It was to be the source for the preservation of the embers, the oven that would maintain the warmth of Judaism and protect his descendants from the spiritual coldness of Egypt. It would be a Yeshiva where Torah will be taught and studied, and set a precedent of Torah study and love of G-d for future generations.

Every Jewish Community Needs a Yeshiva!

As with almost everything that the Torah recounts about our Patriarchs, "the deeds of the Fathers are a sign for the Sons." We learn here that the basis of every Jewish community is a Torah school, whether it be a Yeshiva, Mesivta, day school, kollel, or other. There must be a place where Torah is taught and studied, guaranteeing the future of Am Yisrael everywhere and forever. Every place has its own distinguishing characteristics, but the basis and the objective remain the same in each of them.

The renowned Chafetz Chaim (d. 1933) wrote much about the importance of Yeshivot and Torah study, such as in his work Etz Pri: "Although Torah study is simply the fulfillment of a positive Torah commandment - even the study of the laws of purity and the sacrifices [which are not relevant today when the Beit Mikdash is in ruins] - still, a person's primary area of study must be that which will lead to proper practice and observance of Jewish Law."

The Chafetz Chaim, together with other Torah giants of his generation, exerted great efforts to support Kollels, where budding Torah scholars and rabbis could learn all day, unencumbered by worried of supporting their families. The goal, of course, was to create the necessary conditions that would raise a generation of Torah teachers and Halakhic decisors who would teach their communities correct law and practice.

Public Speaking

Interestingly, the Chafetz Chaim would always encourage his students to learn the art of public speaking. He said that this would be an important and effective way to have influence and make a difference. To this end, he also encouraged them to find Torah sources to help solve problems: "One must primarily acquire expertise in Tanakh (Bible) and Medrash, and to study every problem and find its solution in the Torah or the Rabbinic writings."

He also had this interesting tip: "Speak only about one topic at a time. When you succeed in expressing a good idea, no matter how correct it is – be careful not to ruin it by adding another idea that is related…"

Fire in Russia

Another great disseminator of Torah who founded many Yeshivot throughout Europe was the Alter of Novardok, Rabbe Yosef Horowitz. He once sent four young yeshiva students all the way out to Siberia to found a Torah academy. When asked how he could endanger the spiritual future of the four students in this manner, he answered: "When one takes burning iron to a cold place, the iron indeed cools down – but the fire not only keeps on burning, it gives heat to others. These boys are the fire itself – for the fire of Torah and fear of G-d burns within them – and they will yet give warmth to many others."

[This article in the original Hebrew further expounds fascinatingly on the importance of Yeshivot, with interesting anecdotes and teachings. To read it, send a request to yoruleadership@gmail.com]

Yehuda Challenges Yosef

Parashat Vayigash begins with Yehuda's dramatic and fearless challenge to Yosef, who had just told the brothers that he plans to keep their youngest brother as a slave. According to the Medrash, Yehuda even threatened to kill Yosef if he would not release Binyamin. How can this be, given that just a few verses before, at the end of Parashat Miketz, Yehuda had been very meek, accepting guilt upon himself and offering himself and all his brothers as slaves in exchange for apparently having "stolen" Yosef's precious silver goblet?

My father used to answer, based on the Ohr HaChaim, as follows: Yehuda had until now been under the impression that all of his and his brothers' suffering was due to their sin of having sold Yosef as a slave. He therefore concluded that there was nothing to do about it; G-d was punishing them, period. But once Yehuda saw that Yosef was zeroing in only on Binyamin – who had nothing to do with the sale! – he realized that this was not a Divine punishment, but rather an arbitrary choice by the Egyptians to harass them, in which case it was incumbent upon Yehuda to stand and fight with them!

 [Translator's note: Perhaps this message is particularly relevant today. Some originally may have thought that the intensifying anti-Semitism around the world was rooted in a reaction to perceived injustice in Gaza. Now, however, it is patently clear that the violence and attacks are actually pure hatred and anti-Semitism for its own sake, and it must therefore be fought, as Yehuda threatened, with Jewish pride and strength.]

Miketz: The Lessons of Yosef in Egypt

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

The story of Yosef HaTzaddik in Egypt – the imprisoned servant-boy who became second-to-the-king in an instant – is inspiring in many ways. Let us see how he overcame, among many other trials and tribulations, the scorn of the Minister of Drinks; how he took pride in his Hebrew background even though this increased the Egyptians' contempt for him; and how his love for the Land of Israel shone through in all that he did.

The Torah portion of Miketz (B'reshit 41,1-44,17) begins with King Pharaoh's confusion at having dreamt a double dream of skinny cows swallowing fat cows and withered wheat stalks devouring strong ones. The Minister of Drinks remembered Yosef – who had interpreted the minister's own dream for life and prosperity – and recommended him to Pharaoh, in less than glowing terms: "There with us [in prison] was a Hebrew youth, a slave to Potiphar" (41,12).

Rashi explains, in the name of Chazal (our holy Sages): "Accursed are the evil ones, whose goodness towards others is incomplete. He mentioned Yosef in mocking terms, saying he was a foolish youth unworthy of greatness; a Hebrew, who doesn't even know our language; and a slave, about whom Egyptian culture says cannot become a ruler." That is, even when the evil ones try to do a favor, they do so in a miserly way; their heart does not allow them to do so whole-heartedly without casting aspersions upon him.

Let us understand these points that Chazal saw fit to mention in the butler's words. For one thing, why should he call him a youth, given that Yosef was already 30 years old (41,46)? The explanation given by the Matnot Kehunah commentary is that the reference is to Proverbs 22,15, which speaks of the "foolishness of youth;" the butler wished to denigrate not his age, but his character.

Next: Did Yosef truly not speak the local language? The answer is mostly yes, as the Zohar says (Part III, 213b). Yosef purposely made sure not to learn the language, in order to save himself from assimilating into the local culture. He did know a few dozen words that he needed to run Potiphar's household, but not all the nuances of the words. 

Why did Chazal tell us that the butler called Yosef a "Hebrew?" It is well-known that the Egyptians worshiped sheep, and therefore viewed all shepherding and shepherds, as the Israelites were, as nothing less than an abomination (46,34). They couldn't even bring themselves to eat at the same table with the Hebrews (43,32)! It was therefore with evil intentions that the Minister of Drinks referred to Yosef as a Hebrew, in order to pre-empt any thought by the king to promote Yosef to greatness.

The Torah also wishes to tell us here the maliciousness of the butler's sin of ingratitude, so that we may learn to recognize it if we detect it in ourselves. Yosef had done him a great favor, after helping him for years in prison – and even when he then pleaded with him to remember him and ask the king to pardon him, the butler totally put it out of his mind. The Torah tells us, "The Minister of Drinks did not remember Yosef, and he forgot him" (40,23). Why is it emphasized that not only did he not remember him, but also forgot him? Rashi says: This teaches that he forgot him the very same day that Yosef asked to be remembered!

Why did Yosef even tell the Minister of Drinks that he was a Hebrew? In his plea to be remembered, he said, "For I was stolen from the land of the Hebrews, and was wrongfully placed in the pit" (40,15). Wouldn't he have saved himself much grief had he not mentioned that extra detail?

The answer is that Yosef placed his pride in his background, and his love for his homeland, ahead of other considerations. Chazal say that "Yosef acknowledged his Land," and therefore was buried there and not in Egypt where he lived and ruled. What does it mean that he "acknowledged" it? It means that he was thankful for his Land, and took pride in it. [The words for "acknowledged" and for "thanked" are of the same root.]

We find that Yosef's descendants similarly loved Eretz Yisrael. The daughters of Tzlofchad, for instance, requested to receive a share in the Land because of their love for it (Bamidbar 27); they were of the Tribe of Menashe, son of Yosef. In addition, one of our two future redeemers – Mashiach ben Yosef, of the tribe of Yosef's son Ephraim – was chosen for this task because of his love for the Land. Similarly, the Scroll of Esther emphasizes that Mordechai arrived in Persia from the Holy Land not at all out of choice, but because he "was exiled from Jerusalem" (Esther 2,6).

We know that Yosef, when sending his brothers back to the Holy Land to inform their father Yaakov of the good news that Yosef was alive and very well in Egypt, told them: "Do not rush along the way" (45,24). As Chazal explain, this was because "it could lead to vision problems" (Taanit 10b). Why is it that Yaakov himself did not earlier give his sons a similar warning when they set off for Egypt?

The answer is that there is a big difference between one who leaves Eretz Yisrael and one who returns to it. The former will certainly not rush – for why would he hurry to leave a holy place? But there is a definite fear that those who return to Eretz Yisrael would do so with such great happiness and zeal that they might endanger themselves. This is why Yosef HaTzaddik, who loves and appreciates his Land so much, is the one who gave this warning.

How much we have to learn from Yosef HaTzaddik, in his love for the Land of Israel, and more!

Vayeshev: Yosef, His Dreams, and the Importance of Listening

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

It is told about the Tzaddik of Jerusalem, Rabbe Aryeh Levine (1885-1969), that people would come to him, crying about their problems and tribulations – and would exit his house not only in a good mood, but with a sense that their problems had been solved.

A famous psychiatrist was so impressed with these stories of Reb Aryeh that he once asked him, "What is it that you do with these people? How do they end up leaving you in such a better mood?"

Reb Aryeh answered simply: "I just listen to them."

The psychiatrist nodded: "Yes, listening is a great thing."

Another story was told by the writer Yaakov David Abramsky about himself. He said that after his son fell in the War of Independence in 1948, he found himself one night walking aimlessly around the streets of Jerusalem, and at one point just sat down somewhere and started crying bitterly. No one heard him, no one came to comfort him – until suddenly, from across broad Jaffa St. came Reb Aryeh Levine, who warmly placed the writer's hands in his and stroked them to comfort him. Reb Aryeh was the only one in the world who noticed him and his sadness. "Yes, I was still alone," concluded Abramsky, "but I was no longer all by myself." [These stories are recounted in the work by Simcha Raz about Rabbi Levine.]

In truth, there is a great secret here; would it be that we could walk even a bit in the path of R. Aryeh. People simply have a need for someone to listen to them, and primarily – someone who will give them "space."

I've noticed that little toddlers, when beginning to speak, point to something and call it by its name (in baby-talk) – and then wait for the adult to repeat what they said. Even at this young age, they need approval, affirmation, and even respect.

And of course, this does not change much as they grow older. Every person, no matter how old or even strong, needs attention and to be given their space by others.

This can explain an important point in this week's Torah portion of Vayeshev (B'reshit 37-40). We read that Yosef HaTzaddik has two dreams that are not received very happily by his brothers – but there is a big difference as to how he relates them.

He tells the first dream to his brothers (37,5-6), and they rebuke him for seemingly wanting to rule over them. But regarding the second dream, we see that he first tells it to his brothers (verse 9) – but then, surprisingly, he tells it once again (verse 10) to both his father and his brothers!

The questions are clear: Why does he tell the second dream to his father, after he told the first one only to his brothers? And why did he apparently plan at first to tell the second dream only to his brothers, and then decide to tell it to his father as well?

The Response is the Key

It would seem that the explanation lies in how, and if, his brothers react to what Yosef told them. After the first dream, they reacted with rebuke – but at least they heard him and responded to him! It is important to be heard, even if negatively! (And of course, we remember that Yosef HaTzaddik was on an exalted level, as is seen later in his behavior in Egypt, and his needs are not only psychological but also spiritual.)

However, when he recounted to them his second dream, they did not respond at all! He therefore tells it again to his father, so that it will have its place in the world. Again, he is met with a rebuke (verse 10) – but at least he, and the dream, are heard. When the brothers ignored him, this was harder than their anger and resentment.

** This also adds further depth to Yaakov's reaction: "His father guarded the matter" (verse 11) – it was his reaction that preserved it and gave it space.

What Saved Yosef From Sin?

In general, Yaakov gave space to all his sons – and we see that for Yosef, this was exactly what saved him later from a great sin. The Talmud (Sotah 36b) tells us that when Potiphar's wife tried to seduce Yosef, this was a great temptation for him, and according to some opinions, he nearly caved in. For he was only a slave servant, sold by his own brothers – and here she was, the only one who gave him attention, respect and space. But then, as the Talmud relates, this happened: "He suddenly remembered his father, whose likeness appeared to him in a vision and said to him, 'Yosef, the names of you and your brothers will one day be written on the stones of the Ephod [in the Tabernacle] – do you want your name to be erased and instead be remembered as one who frequents harlots?'… He immediately desisted."

That is, at the moment of truth he remembered his father, our Patriarch Yaakov, who knew how to give him his own place among all the other brothers. His name among theirs had its own precious stone, and it was this that enabled him to overcome and be saved from sin. For this incident emphasizes that Yaakov told Yosef, "Let not your name be erased from among your brothers' names! Stay with them and be part of them" – and that is what did the trick." (And again, we emphasize that the specific lesson for Yosef must be upgraded, in that what was important for him was not only superficial respect from others, but the framework of spiritual continuity.)

May we also merit to feel the needs of the people around us, give them space and respect, and thus uplift them!

Vayishlach: Are the Rules of Battle the Same for a Spiritual War?

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

The beginning of this week's Torah portion of Vayishlach (B'reshit 32,4 - 36,43) begins with our Patriarch Yaakov's preparations for a military clash with his antagonistic brother Esav. After Yaakov divided up his camp into two, he said, "If Esav attacks one camp [of mine] and smites it, [at least] the other one will remain alive" (32,9).

Rashi explains that Yaakov prepared for the impending battle in three ways: He prayed (verse 10), he set aside a gift for Esav (14-16 and 22), and he prepared for war (9).

 The Ramban (Nachmanides) writes that this triplicate strategy is a sign for future generations, "for everything that happened to our Father Yaakov with his brother Esav will always happen to us [his descendants, Israel] with the sons of Esav – and it is appropriate for us to act the same way as the righteous Yaakov acted, by preparing ourselves in these three ways: prayer, gifts, and war methods – to flee and be saved."

This brings us to ask: When we face a spiritual war, are the strategies the same?

Our holy Torah teaches us how we should behave throughout the long years of our Exile. When our enemies come against us physically, seeking to destroy the Nation of Israel, we must follow Yaakov's example and wage the war with the three strategies of prayer, gifts, and combat. But what must we do when we are faced with a spiritual battle, such as against those who wish to separate us from our Torah, those who would ban us from fulfilling mitzvot?

Let us delve further into this week's portion. After Yaakov completed his preparations for the impending encounter with his brother, he transferred his family across the Yabok River, and "remained alone" (verse 25). The Torah then recounts what happened to him next:

"A man wrestled with him, until daybreak. When he saw that he could not defeat Yaakov, he touched Yaakov's thigh, and his hip joint became dislocated… The man said, 'Let me go, for the dawn has broken,' and Yaakov said, 'I will not let you go unless you bless me.' The man said… 'Your name will no longer be Yaakov, but rather Yisrael; for you have contended with G-d and man, and succeeded.'… The man blessed Yaakov there… The sun rose and shone on him [Yaakov] as he left P'nuel, limping" (verses 25-33).  

Why did Yaakov remain there alone and fight with the unknown man? Why didn't he save himself using the strategies he used for the clash with Esav? He could have at least run away!

The answer is that a "spiritual" war like this one against an angel – the heavenly minister of Esav – is very different than a military war. The angel even said that this was a spiritual war: "For you have contended with G-d and man" (verse 29). Spiritual wars – which began here with the fight against Esav's angel, and have continued throughout the generations – require different strategies, and the Torah here teaches what they are.

The Righteous are Careful to Avoid Theft Even in Tiny Amounts
Regarding the verse ‘Yaakov was left alone,’ the Talmud (Tr. Chullin 91a) states that R. Elazar taught that he remained behind to retrieve small jars that he left there – teaching us that for the righteous, their belongings are dearer to them than their bodies. Why? Because they do not engage in theft. (Chullin 91a)

The renowned Ben Ish Chai explains (in his work Ben Yehoyada) that this means that the tzaddikim are careful not to take without permission even the smallest thing that people generally make nothing of, such as a tiny chip from a pile of wood. This is why, he says, that in their own homes, they ascribe great value to their money and possessions and are careful not to waste them – just as Yaakov, who was wealthy, did regarding small jars – in order to teach their households how to relate to others' property, for they see that people's assets are important to them. They see that even the wealthy Yaakov endangered himself to return for small jars – serving as an example never to assume that they may take even small things from other people without permission.

The Main Strategy in Spiritual War: "No Compromises"

This is related to the required modus operandi in a spiritual war. Rashi explains (D'varim 7,12) that there are some mitzvot that are often held in less regard, "light mitzvot that one treads upon with his heels." Just as Yaakov took his important property with him and left the small jars behind, he also placed his great spiritual assets in a "safe place" and then went back to pick up also the seemingly less important deeds and attributes, those that are often forgotten or overlooked. And precisely then, "a man wrestled with him" – the minister angel of Esav, the Evil Inclination; this is precisely where the struggle begins. First the war is over the "light" mitzvot, the small jars.

A spiritual war is not a Divine punishment, but rather a Divine test to see if we truly cleave to the Torah and its commandments – all of them. The main thing in this war is the struggle itself; that's why Yaakov didn't run away, but rather fought the "Esav inclination" straight on, face to face, until final victory. The Torah teaches us here that the spiritual war must be waged without compromise. Yaakov insisted that the angel bless him, meaning, as Rashi explains, "Concede that the blessings I received from my father are mine, and not Esav's." Yaakov demands total surrender from Esav's angel.

And then the Torah continues: "The sun shone on Yaakov … as he limped along," regarding which the Medrash teaches: "It shone for Yaakov's needs, to cure him of his limp," as we read in Malachi (3,20): "The sun of righteousness shall arise with healing in its wings [for you who fear My name]."

The same is true for our spiritual wars throughout history: We will be stricken spiritually, we will lose parts of our nation in these intense wars, and the Nation of Israel will limp away – but when the sun of Torah shines, 'the light of the sun shall be sevenfold the light of the seven days'" (Yeshayahu 20,26). At that time, Am Yisrael will be cured of its spiritual limp, "and the earth will be filled with knowledge of G-d as water covers the seas" (11,9).

Toldot: Matriarch Rivka's Heroism - Combining Strengths

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vayeira: Sitting by the Tent and Hoping for Guests

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he continues: 

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

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