Ki Tisa: Superficial Spirtuality

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

This week's Torah portion of Ki Tisa (Sh'mot 30,11-34,35) tells the momentous story of the sin of the Golden Calf. It happened while Moshe Rabbeinu was on Mt. Sinai learning the Torah that G-d was about to give Israel – and so Moshe didn't know about it until G-d told him: "Your nation has strayed quickly from the path that I commanded them; they have made for themselves a cast-metal calf" (Sh'mot 32,7-8). Moshe immediately prayed for the nation, and G-d "refrained from [punishing] the nation as He had said" (verse 14). However, when Moshe saw for himself how the nation was sinning so egregiously, he "became angered and threw down the Tablets [of the Covenant] and broke them" (verse 19).

How can we explain Israel's sin? The nation had merited to see with its own eyes amazing miracles and Divine leadership, including the Ten Plagues and especial providence at all times, as written, "G-d went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to guide them… and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light...” (13,21).

They also experienced, of course, the splitting of the Red Sea, a miracle so great that the Sages taught that those who experienced it were on a level even higher than prophecy: "From where do we know that even a maidservant at the sea saw what the prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel did not see? As is written, “By the hand of the prophets I made Myself known in visions” (Hoshea 12,11), and “The heavens were opened and I saw visions of G-d.” (Yechezkel 1,1)" – whereas the Israelites saw Him even more directly than via a vision, singing afterwards in the Song of the Sea, “This is my G-d” (15,2).

The Sages explained this via a parable likening the situation to a human king who entered a province. He arrived with great fanfare - trumpets sounding around him, mighty warriors standing at his right and left, troops marching before and behind him. And yet everyone had to ask, “Which one is the king?” – because he was a human being like everyone else and was not distinguishable. But when the Holy One, blessed be He, revealed Himself at the Red Sea, no one needed to ask, “Which one is the king?” Rather, as soon as they saw Him, they recognized Him and sang out, “This is my G-d, and I will glorify Him" (Sh'mot 15,2). [Based on Mekhilta, B'shalach, section 1]

Returning to our question: How could it be that the Israelites were surrounded by miracles and ascending ever upwards to be worthy of the greatest occasion in human history – the Stand at Mt. Sinai – and then, at the last minute they fall into the grave sin of idol worship!

The answer is found in the fact that there was one tribe that actually did not sin and did not allow themselves to follow the masses. The Tribe of Levi stood steadfast in their loyalty to G-d: "Moshe… called, 'Who is for G-d?' And all the Levites gathered to him" (32,26). In recognition, G-d "differentiated the Tribe of Levi, to carry the Ark of the Covenant, to stand before G-d, to serve Him, and to bless in His Name up to this very day" (D'varim 10,8).

What gave the Levites the strength to remain loyal to G-d, in the face of the nation's deterioration? What was their secret?

The Rambam (Laws of Avodah Zarah 1) teaches how Avraham Avinu taught the world of the existence of the One G-d, and how Levi in particular stood out in this faith:

"Avraham began to proclaim to all that there is one G-d in the entire world and that it is correct to serve Him… He planted in their hearts this great fundamental principle, wrote texts about it, and taught it to his son Yitzchak, who also taught others and turned their hearts to G-d. [His son Yaakov also taught] others and turned their hearts to G-d, as well as all his children. He selected his son Levi as the leader [and] the head of the academy to teach them the way of G-d and observe the mitzvot of Avraham. Yaakov commanded his sons that the leadership should not depart from the descendants of Levi, so that the teachings would not be forgotten. This concept gave strength among the descendants of Yaakov and those who gathered around them, until there became a nation in the world that knew G-d. When the Jews remained in Egypt, however, they learned from the Egyptians’ deeds and began worshiping the stars as they did – but the tribe of Levi did not; they clung to the mitzvot and never served false gods."

Even King Pharaoh recognized that Levi and his descendants were the Jews' spiritual leaders and teachers, and therefore he did not enslave them: "We see this from the fact that Moshe and Aharon were able to come and go as they pleased… And it is customary for every nation to have teachers…" (Ramban's commentary to Sh'mot 5,4).

The faith and spirituality of the Levites were deeply implanted within them, as they were very connected with their forefathers' tradition, and dedicated themselves to learn G-d's path. They experienced G-d's miracles as did the other Israelites – but it was not these that gave them faith; rather, they had a very strong basis even beforehand. Therefore, even when the nation strayed off the path towards the "modern" idol-worshipping culture of the Egyptians, the Levites did not go with the flow but rather remained true to their principles.

The other tribes, however, were not yet strong enough in their faith to withstand the false ideologies of Egypt. When they saw G-d's great miracles, they were quite impressed, and even abandoned idol-worship for a time and "believed in G-d and in His servant Moshe" (14,31). But their faith was not firmly grounded in their fathers' traditions or in deep study of the way of G-d. Their spirituality was based primarily on the extraordinary miracles and wonders.

Therefore, when doubts began to arise regarding Moshe's return, and, as the Medrash teaches, the Satan showed them a kind of image of Moshe being carried in the heavens (Rashi, 32,1), they were influenced and became totally open to the new ideology of the “Golden Calf.”

Our holy Torah is teaching us here a critical lesson: In order for faith in Hashem to withstand passing ideologies and ism's, the younger generation must be grounded in Torah learning, firmly based on genuine tradition and love of the study of Torah.

Yitro: Honor Your Parents – and Yourselves!

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

This week's Torah portion Yitro (Sh'mot, chapter 18-20) features the actual Giving of the Torah to Israel on Mt. Sinai and the text of the Ten Commandments. Let us discuss the fifth commandments, "Honor your father and your mother," and the reward we are promised for its fulfillment, "so that you will live long on the land that Hashem your G-d gives you" (Sh'mot 20,11).

The Ten Commandments are the fundamental guidelines of all the mitzvot of the Torah, and actually include within them all 613 mitzvot of the Torah. Rashi states this in his commentary to Sh'mot 24,12, and Rabbeinu Saadia Gaon explains how each and every mitzvah is derived from G-d's words to us at Sinai.

Why was this commandment of honoring our parents chosen to be the only one of the ten whose reward is specified? The rewards for the other nine are, by design, not outlined here!

Another question is why is "long life" the reward for this mitzvah? Again we turn to Rav Saadia, who lived over 1,000 years ago, and who explained as follows: It is because sometimes, we find that parents live for a long time, and actually become a burden of sorts on their children who seek to honor them. Therefore, G-d set "long life" as the reward for this mitzvah, meaning that we must honor our parents as we live together with them – and if perhaps you feel distress over their lives, you must understand that it is actually your own life about which you are troubled. (This is one explanation among many.)

But let us return to the main question: What is it about the mitzvah of honoring parents that its reward is spelled out in the Ten Commandments, unlike the other nine?

What We Learn from First-Fruits

Let us turn to the mitzvah of Bikurim: bringing the First Fruits of one's field to the priests in the Holy Temple. The Torah says that you must bring them to the "priest who will be in those days" (D'varim 26,3): Rashi explains that this tells us that no priest is ineligible to receive the Bikurim. Rather, you must give them to whichever priest you find serving in the Temple.

In my article "Bringing Bikurim Without Calculations," I cited various commentators' opinions regarding why one might not want to bring the Bikurim to a given Cohen. I added that upon deeper reflection, we find that there are in fact various calculations that one could have regarding which Cohen to give to or not: This one is not scholarly or righteous enough, this one he never talks to, while the other one is a friend of his… But the bottom line is that the holy Torah understands our hearts, and knows that a person is willing to give to Hashem whatever He commands – but not necessarily if it goes to another person. In such a case, he has all sorts of calculations…

This is why the Torah says, "The first of the fruits of your land, bring to Hashem your G-d" (Sh'mot 23,19), and tell him, "I have said today to Hashem your G-d…" (D'varim 26,3) – Bikurim must be brought as if they were going straight to Hashem; rise up above all your petty calculations!

Rav Yehonatan Aybeschutz, in his Yaarot Dvash, states clearly that if a person comes to ask about his slaughtered chicken or cow, and the rabbi tells him it is not kosher and must be thrown out – the man will do so with no hesitation. But if he has a monetary dispute with another man and is found liable to pay him, he will be quite upset – especially at the judge! And the reason is because he has no problem giving to G-d Who gave us the Torah, but when it comes to paying a man, that is much harder because of the jealousy involved.

And this brings us back to the mitzvah of honoring our parents, where possible resentment at giving to others can apply most significantly. Our Sages describe the great difficulty of observing this mitzvah properly with the words of R. Yochanan – both of whose parents died before he ever got to know them. He actually said, "Fortunate is the man who did not see his parents" – because, Rashi says, it is impossible to honor them properly enough.

Making Sense

The Arukh HaShulchan writes that honoring one’s parents is categorized among the "rational commandments," and in fact has spread to the nations of the world. Even those who deny the Torah are careful with this mitzvah, because it makes sense. Yet we, the people of Israel, must observe it not because of its logic – but because G-d commanded us to do so! This, he writes, is a fundamental concept in all the mitzvot of the Torah.

And yet, though it is an understandable and compelling mitzvah to anyone with a modicum of understanding, it comes at a great cost. We must nullify our own needs in order to properly give to our parents what they need, especially as they grow older and infirm – and it is therefore frequently natural to seek excuses why not to perform it as best we can.

This is why the Torah tells us that we must do it, "in order that your days be lengthened." This mitzvah is the only one of the Ten Commandments in which one must give something to another – and not just once, but throughout his life: As the Gemara tells us, "One must honor him in his [the parent's] lifetime and also after his death" (Kiddushin 31b). Again, the Torah understands how we think, and therefore emphasized that when one gives to his parents, he is actually giving himself as well: "… in order that your days be lengthened on the land." This removes the instinctive difficulties involved in giving others, as explained above, and it becomes much easier to properly fulfill this mitzvah.

This explains why the Torah wrote the reward for this mitzvah here in the Ten Commandments – because it is actually not just a reward for its fulfillment, but rather an intrinsic part of the very reason why we are commanded to perform it with the expectation that we will do it correctly. This is not a "mitzvah with its reward alongside it," in the words of the Gemara - but rather a "mitzvah with its reward inside it!"

Honor your parents, for this means lengthening your days!

Bo: Free Will and Human Nature

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

This week's Torah portion (Bo, Sh'mot 10,1-13,16) is the story of the last three of the Ten Plagues – raising at the same time a fascinating question of Divinely-given, human Free Will. The first verse is this: "G-d said to Moshe, Go to Pharoah, for I have hardened his heart and the hearts of his servants, in order that I place these signs of Mine in him."

The Medrash asks: "Does this verse not enable the heretics to claim that Pharaoh, in refusing to free the Israelites, did not actually sin, for he had no choice in the matter?" R. Shimon ben Lakish answered as follows:

"G-d warns a person once, twice, and a third time – and if he does not reverse course and do teshuvah, G-d then locks his heart from being able to repent, in order to punish him for that which he sinned. This is what happened with Pharaoh: For the first five plagues, G-d sent him Moshe and Aharon to warn him, but he did not listen to them. G-d then said to him: 'Because you have hardened your heart, I will add impurity to your impurity and harden your heart Myself.'"

Does this truly answer the question? Can it be that Pharaoh, a living and breathing person, has had his Free Will taken away? We know that the Torah commands us to "Choose life" (D'varim 30,19), meaning that we have the ability and obligation to choose our deeds freely. This "Free Choice" is in fact the very advantage that humans have over animals. As the Abarbanel explained:

"When King Shlomo wrote, "man has no preeminence over beast" (Eccl. 3,19), he meant this in terms of their bodies; but there is certainly a difference between their intellects and thoughts. Therefore a person must be strong and distance himself from animalistic behaviors, and cling rather to his intellect – and thus he will acquire lasting [reward] for his soul; if he does not do this, he will end up being like an animal, in keeping with the fact that both man and beast were created on one day… Man's perfection is dependent upon his own choices…"

It occurred to me that the explanation regarding Pharaoh is that regarding the first five plagues, he received warnings, followed by plagues that had one objective: to have him yield to G-d's demand to free the Jewish People. But once he did not do that, his fate was sealed – and he thus reached the end of his line as a human being with Free Choice. (See Medrash Sh'mot Rabba 13,3.) It was as if he was dead – but G-d left him physically alive for the final plagues simply so that the world would learn of G-d's greatness and power.

These last plagues, in fact, symbolize a gradual death punishment, step after step. The plague of Locusts took from the Egyptians all the food that the locusts consumed – and without food, of course, a living being cannot live, such that this was the beginning of the road to death. Then came Darkness, in which they lost their sight – another station along their way to dying. This was followed by death itself: the Plague of the Smiting of the Firstborns – capped off by the deaths of Pharaoh's armies in the Red Sea.

The Power of Habit

But in truth, this entire matter can be explained simply in accordance with human nature, with which G-d runs His world. The Torah is telling us here an important fundamental, and that is "the power of habit."

When a person becomes accustomed to doing negative things over a period of time, there comes that moment when "G-d hardens his heart," at which time, even if he wants to stop acting that way, it has become almost impossible to do so. Pharaoh had become accustomed to subjugating the Israelites and working them cruelly to the bone, and he had also gotten used to withstanding G-d's punishments and refusing His demands to release Israel. But then came the inevitable moment when "I have hardened his heart": Pharaoh can no longer free himself of these bad habits.

The famous 20^th-century Maggid of Jerusalem, the late saintly R. Shalom Schvadron, compared this to one who has allowed himself to become addicted to smoking: After many years, he finds it impossible to quit the habit, even though intellectually he understands its great dangers. The Maggid even told a story of a long-time thief who was caught and imprisoned, and when they brought him his food through the window of his cell, he would jump and snatch it from the window – because he was so used to stealing that even that which he received legitimately he could not take normally without "stealing" it.

As such, it is not that Pharaoh's Free Will was taken from him, but rather that he himself brought himself to a situation of a "hardened heart" where he is unable to control his own actions.

Rav Eliyahu Dessler, in his Michtav Me'Eliyahu (translated into English as "Strive for Truth"), explains similarly: A person sins only because of a "spirit of foolishness" that comes over him. Even when he then regrets this, but still cannot withstand the temptation to sin again, this same spirit settles into, and methodically takes over, his mind.

Rav Dessler said he knew a man who suffered from diabetes (before the discovery of insulin), but who could not stop eating chocolate, although he regretted it. When he saw that he did not die from it, he continued eating it, regretting it less and less – until one day he died. If he had stopped right away, he would have been OK, but because he allowed the "spirit of foolishness" to take over regularly, he was lost; there was no longer room for teshuvah.

This actually works for positive actions as well. The Talmud says (Bava Batra 17a) that our Patriarchs Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov were the three men over whom the Evil Inclination had no control. How can this be? With nothing pushing them to sin, did they no longer have Free Choice to choose between good and bad?

The answer is as above: the power of habit. Doing positive deeds became a habit, something intrinsically part of them. Their Free Will was manifest in that they consciously chose to do good, time after time, such that each good deed influenced their next choice, to the point that each juncture no longer provided the need to choose; they simply did good.

The Mishna in Pirkei Avot (5,20) states that we must be "bold like a leopard… and strong like a lion, to do G-d's will." Why does it not simply say that we must be bold and strong, etc., without the comparison to animals? R. Yehuda Tzadkah explained that the Mishna is telling us that we must work to ingrain these attributes within us so that they be as instinctive to us as they are to animals…

May it be G-d's will that we make the right choices, rectify our character and traits, and acquire good habits, to the point that they become part of our very nature.

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.]

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).

Ki Tavo: Different Approaches to the Holocaust, etc.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Foundations of Faith

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dvarim: Moshe Rabbeinu's Mussar Shmooze to Israel

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

This week's Torah portion of D'varim, which begins the Book of Deuteronomy, starts off with an introduction to Moshe Rabbeinu's parting speech to Israel before his death as they are about to enter the Promised Land: "These are the words that Moshe spoke to all of Israel on the [eastern] side of the Jordan River…"

The Medrash (Yalkut Shimoni 788) asks: "These are the words? Did he not prophecy much more than this over the years? He wrote the entire Torah! What is so special about these words?"

And the Medrash answers that these words were in fact special and particularly needed because they were words of rebuke, as Rashi on this first verse also explains.

Giving rebuke when necessary is in fact a Torah mitzvah, as written: "Surely admonish your neighbor, and do not bear sin because of him [alternatively: do not embarrass him with your rebuke]" (Vayikra 19,17). However, the details of this law were not spelled out there, such as who is commanded, under what circumstances, and how to give the rebuke. Here then, where we read about the admonishment that Israel's great teacher Moshe delivered, we have a chance to see how he fulfilled the mitzvah and learn the ideal way to do so.

Studying these verses and the words of our Sages thereupon, we find that there are seven conditions for effective rebuke.

The first and most well-known aspect of Moshe's rebuke is as written in Rashi: "Listed here are all the places in which the Children of Israel angered G-d with their sins; they are listed only by allusion [without mentioning precisely what happened in those places], in order that the honor of Israel not be marred."

The first condition, then, is to give rebuke in a manner that will show honor to the other person, i.e., in an indirect manner that will not embarrass him – and in this way, there is a chance that he will accept the admonishment.

The Medrash (D'varim Rabba 1,4) states: "It would have been appropriate for the rebukes to be said by Bilam and for the blessings to be said by Moshe - but if so, Israel would have said, 'Bilam hates us and that's why he rebukes us,' and the nations of the world would have, 'Moshe loves them and that's why he blesses them.' G-d therefore said that Moshe who loves them should rebuke them, and Bilam who hates them should bless them [Bamidbar 23-24]."

The second condition, then, for the rebuke to be accepted is that it must come from someone whom the subject of the rebuke knows loves him, and can therefore be sure of his sincerity.

#3 – The Medrash says that Moshe was the right man to admonish Israel because he had no ulterior motives, and never sought anything from his people, as he said during Korach's rebellion: "Not even one donkey did I take from them!" Thus, only one who cannot be suspected of having ulterior motives in rebuking someone can assume that his words will be properly heard.

#4 – We read here that Moshe delivered this speech to "all of Israel." Rashi says that if he had only rebuked some of them at a time, those who were not there would have said, 'What? You heard that from Amram's son [Moshe] and you did not answer him? You could have said such and such!" Moshe therefore gathered all of them together and said, "Whoever has what to answer, let him answer now."

This is true for individuals, who must be given a chance to answer and explain when they are rebuked – and all the more so, of course, for entire groups.

#5 – The Sages were very skeptical, to say the least, whether in their generation there was anyone who could rebuke, anyone who could accept rebuke, or anyone who knew how rebuke should be delivered. The Gemara cites the verse, "Do not reprove a scorner, lest he hate you; rebuke a wise man, and he will love you" (Mishlei 9,8).

We thus learn that one who would issue reproof must be sure not only that he knows how to reproach, and not only that his listener knows how to receive it, but also that the rebuke will lead to actual love between them, as in the cited verse from Mishlei.

#6 – The sixth condition is that one must calculate in advance all the possible ramifications of the rebuke - and then he must decide accordingly when is the best time to deliver the admonishment to ensure that it will be most effectively received. We learn this from Yaakov Avinu, as well as from Moshe, both of whom made sure to issue their reproaches (to his sons and to Bnei Yisrael, respectively) right before they [the rebukers] died. The Medrash explains four reasons why deathbed-rebuke is the best: so that the rebuked will not later see him and be embarrassed, and the like.

And the final condition: One must be on a high level before he tells others what they are doing wrong. As R. Tarfon says in the Gemara: "I am doubtful whether there is anyone in this generation who can accept rebuke, for if someone says, 'You have a splinter in your teeth,' they will retort, 'You have a board between your eyes!"

Thus, the 7^th condition is the most difficult one of all: He who reproves must be a tzaddik, so that he cannot be told that he is guilty of even worse sins than he is rebuking about! And if this was said in the generation of the holy Tannaitic sages, how much more so is this true nowadays, when we have none who know how to rebuke and therefore no one who knows how to be rebuked.

The Chafetz Chaim writes in the name of Rav Y. Mullen, and the Maharam of Lublin agrees, that this is why it is a mitzvah to love those who do not keep the Torah – because they have never been properly rebuked before, given that no one knows how to do so correctly, and therefore they don't know the proper way to act!

Love your fellow – and then he will want you to show him the right way!

Mattot-Masei: What is Truth? Between an Oath and a Vow

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

This week's Torah reading is a double portion, Mattot and Mas'ei (beginning in Bamidbar 30,2 until the end of the Book, chapter 36). Mattot begins with a set of laws given to Moshe Rabbeinu regarding vows: "If a man makes a vow to G-d, or swears to prohibit something to himself - he may not violate his word; whatever comes out of his mouth, he shall do."

The Medrash Tanchuma says that this mitzvah is a type of warning from G-d: "Be very careful with vows (nedarim); do not violate them, for whoever does so, will end up violating oaths (sh'vuot) – which is like denying the existence of G-d, and will never be forgiven, as is written, 'G-d will not cleanse he who takes His name in vain'" (Sh'mot 20,6).

Why are vows and oaths so severe that their violation appears to be worse than a regular lie? And what about oaths is worse and graver than vows, that violating the former is like denying G-d?

The Medrash Bamidbar Rabba (22,1) quotes Jeremiah 4,2: “You will take an oath: As the Lord lives, in truth, in justice and in righteousness” (4,2). The Medrash says that the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Israel: "Do not think it is permitted for you to take an oath in My name, even a truthful one. You are permitted to swear in My name only if you have all these attributes: You are G-d-fearing, you serve G-d exclusively, and you cleave to G-d." Two verses in Deuteronomy (6,13 and 10,20) link "permission" to take an oath with the traits of fearing G-d and serving Him [and one of the verses also adds "cleaving to G-d"].

The Medrash continues to say that we must be G-d-fearing like Abraham, Job, and Joseph. Abraham – as G-d told him: “For now I know that you are God-fearing” (B'reshit 22,12); Job, as is written about him: “A virtuous and upright man, fearing God” (Job 1,8). And Joseph, as he told Pharaoh, “It is G-d that I fear” (B'reshit 42,18).

The Medrash also cites verses regarding the importance of serving G-d exclusively, explaining that we must devote ourselves to Torah and to engaging in mitzvot, and have no other work. And finally, the third trait: “To Him you shall cleave” (Deuteronomy 10,20) – the Medrash asks: "How can a person cleave to the Divine Presence? Is it not stated that "the Lord your God is a consuming fire” (ibid. 4,24)?  Rather, the verse means: Anyone who marries his daughter to a scholar who studies Bible and Mishna, and engages in commerce, and benefits [the scholar] from his property – he is the one about whom it is stated: “To Him you shall cleave.”

The Medrash concludes that only one with these qualities is permitted to take an oath." To back this up, the Medrash recounts an incident involving King Yannai, "who had two thousand cities - and all of them were destroyed due to oaths that were fulfilled. How so? One person would say to another: ‘I swear that I am going to such and such place, and I will drink something in such and such place,’ and then they would go and fulfill their oath - and the cities were destroyed. If this is the punishment for taking a true oath, how much more so for one who takes a false oath."

This strong point also raises a strong question. We know that the Torah permits us to take an oath or make a vow, and merely requires us to make sure to fulfill them. Why the does the Medrash indicate that one is not permitted to swear even for truth? And if it is in fact such a grave sin, even leading to the destruction of 2,000 cities of King Yannai, why is it permitted for one who fears G-d and marries his daughter to a Torah scholar whom he supports?

Let us first understand the difference between oaths and vows. The Yalkut Shimoni says that making a vow is like vowing in the life of the king, while taking an oath is like swearing upon the king himself. Homiletic support for this is brought from the words of Elisha the Prophet to his mentor Eliyahu (Kings II 2,2): "By the life of G-d, and by the life of your soul."

The Ramban to this chapter in Bamidbar states simply: "Every vow is to G-d, and every oath is 'by' G-d."

Let us delve further. We know that it is forbidden to lie. If one says he will do something, even without a vow or an oath, he is obligated to keep his word, for the Torah commands, "From words of deception stay away" (Sh'mot 23,7). Regarding those who do not keep their word, our Sages taught: "He who punished the generation of the Flood, and the generation of the Tower of Babel, and the people of S'dom and Amora, and the Egyptians in the Sea of Reeds – He will be punish those who do not keep their word" (Bava Metzia 48a, Shulchan Aruch C.M. 33,4).

What is added to the prohibition by making a vow or taking an oath?

The Sefer HaChinukh, which explains in detail all 613 Torah mitzvot, says the following, in one of the mitzvot (#74) having to do with speaking falsehood:

"… falsehood is abominable and vile in the eyes of all. There is nothing more disgusting than it, and malediction and curse are in the house of those who adhere to it. This is because the blessed God is a truthful God, and everything with Him is true. Blessing is found only upon those who try to emulate Him: to be truthful, like He is truthful, and to be merciful and do kindness, as these are His attributes as well. But anyone whose deeds are the opposite of His good traits and who act with deception, the opposite of His traits will similarly always rest upon them. The opposite of blessing is malediction; the opposite of the joy and peace and enjoyment with Him is worry, strife and pain… Therefore the Torah warned us to distance ourselves much from falsehood, as is written, "From words of deception stay away." The Torah did not simply say it is forbidden, but rather that we must stay far from it, something it does not mention in the other warnings - due to it being very vile…"

A person makes a vow when he wishes to strengthen his commitment and add a measure of obligation to that which he has said he will do. The problem is that this implies a denial of the fact that he is obligated to keep his word even without a vow. When he takes an oath, which is "by G-d," the problem is even greater – for G-d is a G-d of truth, and if he dares not to comply with what he swore to do, there is no greater denial of G-d than this; by violating his word, he is actually declaring that he does not believe in G-d and sees no need to fulfill his commitment that he took in His name! And on the other hand, even if he does fulfill his oath, why did he feel the need for such a powerful additional obligation in order to do the right thing? It shows the weakness of his attribute of truth, as if without the oath he would not feel obligated to keep his word.

We are thus left with the original question: Since taking an oath is so negative and indicates a weakness in one's propensity to truth, why is a G-d-fearing person who cleaves to the Divine Presence permitted to take an oath?

The answer is: On the contrary! Precisely his being a "man of truth" is what explains why he is taking this oath! For in the above verse the Torah links together "G-d-fearing, men of truth," showing that they are one and the same. And one who "cleaves to G-d," as in the examples above (marrying his daughter to a Torah scholar, etc.), thus cleaves to the G-d of truth, and is certainly someone who will always keep his word – even without an oath or vow.

When he takes an oath, then, he is not doing it to strengthen himself, but rather to make a declaration. He is stating that he keeps his word not only because he is upright and honest, or because that is the logical thing to do as one who lives with others – but because his attribute of truth is another expression of his attachment to G-d. Thus, his oath is not a weakness, but an add-on of strength!

We see that two people can do the exact same thing, and while for one it is forbidden, because it expresses weakness in his commitment to truth and closeness to G-d – for the other it is permitted and welcome, because it manifests a powerful measure of truth and added nearness to Hashem.