Thursday, January 26, 2017

Parshat Va'eira - Taking a Minute


This week's Parsha begins to tell us of the onslaught of plagues that G-d brought down upon Egypt. After finally convincing Moshe to be His messenger with Aharon, G-d commands Moshe to confront Pharaoh with a miracle – turning his staff into a snake – to show that Moshe is an emissary of G-d. Pharaoh summons his “wise men and sorcerers” (7:11) and they too manage to perform this task. Later, Moshe and Aharon, at G-d’s behest, confront Pharaoh and warn him of the first plague: the changing of the Nile to blood, and the death of the fish in it. Aharon strikes the Nile and it turns to blood. Again Pharaoh has the חרטומים match this act.


After the plague of blood, the Torah tells us: “Pharaoh turned and went home, and he paid no heed, even to this.” Rashi explains, “He paid no heed: to the wonder of the staff which was changed into a serpent and also not to that of the blood” (7:23)


However, we already know from the previous pesukim that when the sorcerers replicated the miracles: “Pharaoh’s heart stiffened and he did not heed them…” (7:11) and “when the Egyptian sorcerers did the same with their spells, Pharaoh’s heart became hard, and he did not heed them…” (7:22)


What is the Torah adding by telling us again that Pharaoh did not take heed? And what connection is there between the beginning of the verse “Pharaoh turned and went home..” to the end of the verse that “he paid no heed.”


There are times in life when we encounter something that enlivens with us a desire to overcome a challenge or a bad habit, or to live on higher planes. These are times of inspiration, times of reflection, times when something occurs which is so shocking that it causes us to reevaluate our affairs. Yet so often, those feelings which grab us, manage to vanish, only to float away like mist in the wind. The most important thing to do to retain that moment, that flash of inspiration, is to quickly act upon it: whether to write a note, make a reminder, or do something concrete immediately. However, the most sure-fire way to lose that chance is to return to our daily routine, unchanged. We can easily miss an opportunity to grow when we simply go back to what feels familiar, to our “comfort-zone” where we can forget and ignore the inspiration we experienced.


In a time of an incredible revelation of G-d, and after witnessing two wondrous signs, Pharaoh should have taken a moment to stop and reflect. Yes, even after his own sorcerers performed the same signs, there was still ample reason to realize G-d’s Sovereignty. The Sforno says that Pharaoh should have questioned what he saw:


To recognise the difference between what G-d had done and what his sorcerers had done. G-d’s activity had produced a total change in the nature of the river Nile, a phenomenon which had been considered as inviolate, constant, incapable of being abolished. It had now been turned into ‘real blood,’ so much so that all the fish had died. The changes affected by the tricks of the sorcerers were performed on phenomena that were unstable to begin with. Possibly, all the sorcerers produced was illusionary.


Yet, what does Pharaoh do? Does he take that crucial minute to stop and think? No, He turns and goes home; he returns to his comfort-zone, his familiar surroundings, and ultimately, to his preconceived notions. This seemingly insignificant action inevitably led to: “and he paid no heed.” That moment, that chance to reflect, was lost. It was only natural that Pharaoh would not take anything to heart.

All too often, we allow precious moments of potential to slip away. But when we realize that it's in our hands to seize them, we can become more cognizant of these opportunities, and of what they can accomplish. Unlike Pharoah, we, who have the desire to become better, can then use these moments to achieve our goals.

Shabbat Shalom

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Parshat Shemot - Believing for a Better Future



This week's Parsha commences the chapter of exile and servitude for the Jewish people in the land of Egypt. Thus begins the torment that Pharaoh and the Egyptians brought upon the Jews, with the murder of the infant boys, the back-breaking labor, and the ravaging of the slave’s wives, causing great anguish to our nation. A very dark period indeed.

The Torah says: “A man went from the House of Levi, and he took a daughter of Levi...The woman conceived and gave birth to a son.” (2:1) That man was Amram, and the woman was Yocheved. The son would grow up to be Moshe Rabbeinu, who would eventually lead the Jewish people out of Egypt, out of slavery.

Rashi (ibid.) explains the significance of this background information: “He [Amram] had been separated from her [Yocheved] because of the decree of Pharaoh, and he remarried her...he went on the account of his daughter [Miriam]’s advice who said to him “your decree is more severe than that of Pharaoh, for Pharaoh decreed only on the boys, but you have decreed as well on the girls…”

Amram remarried Yocheved because Miriam argued that his actions were in fact worse than Pharaoh! This obviously begs the question: Surely Amram understood on his own that to refrain from procreation altogether is more destructive than killing only one gender. So why did Amram leave Yocheved to begin with? And if Amram had a strong justification for his actions, what was it about Miriam’s argument that so convinced her father to change course?

The Gemara in Sotah (12a) sheds some light on the dynamics of Amram’s decision. The Gemara states that Amram exclaimed upon hearing the decree: “Our effort is for naught, he then arose and divorced his wife, thereupon all the men arose and divorced their wives.” The Sifri in Devarim (26:7) explains that “effort” refers to the sons (see the Meharsha in Sotah as well). Because of Pharaoh's decree, Amram felt that any efforts at building the nation, at building society, were for naught. Pharaoh’s cruelty was so great that he decreed even to kill the male babies of his own countrymen (Rashi 1:22). The hatred that Pharaoh had for the Jewish people was so strong that he was willing to mass-murder the babies of his own people, lest the savior of the Jews be born through them. So jarring, and so depressing, was the prospect of bringing children into this world, in the face of such evil. In this time, a period so dark and destructive to our nation and to the world, perhaps Amram did not want to have any children exist, only to suffer at the sight of this abuse.

However Miriam argued against this sentiment. She reasoned that no matter the situation, even at the worst of times, we must continue to move forward at all costs – we must continue to grow and build. We cannot let the destroyers deter us from progressing. We must approach life with the attitude that things will improve, and remain strong in the hope that we will see a better day. Yes, they are killing our boys, but do not let them win by stopping us from raising the next generation. This argument compelled Amram to return to Yocheved. Moshe, the מושיען של ישראל, was born and lead the Jews out of Egypt.

An attitude of despair was quite prevalent in the world post-holocaust; many made the calculation, understandably so after losing their entire families to the Nazis and witnessing the depravity of the world, to leave Judaism and to “check out” from society. How can one, after experiencing such evil, face the world with starry-eyed visions of תיקון עולם? How can one be expected to trust the world again?

Yet there were also those select few, dreamers and optimists, who did not allow the experience of evil to corrupt their view; rather they drew strength from the mission that they felt Providence had foisted upon them to build a new world. Orthodoxy was all but assumed dead in post WWII America, but the pioneers stayed strong and forged ahead, for they continued to look forward, girding themselves with the strength of the past, of their ancestors, to hope for a better future. And just a few years after the destruction of European Jewry, the sociologist Egon Mayer, in his book, From Suburb to Shtetl: The Jews of Boro Park (1979) with a study of the Orthodox Jewish community in the 1970’s, concluded: “they were facing a cultural renaissance, rather than the complete assimilation considered inevitable by much of the previous sociological literature on the subject.” (Beyond the Melting Pot, Alberto Bisen and Thierry Verdier – N.Y.U 2000). Today we reap the benefits of those optimists’ “efforts”; they were not for naught.

My wife is a descendent of two such dreamers, who settled in America and built a Torah home. After losing their 4 children in the war, they rebuilt their family from scratch and today, their many grandchildren and great-grandchildren are proud Torah Jews bringing pride to the Jewish people and Hashem. I hope and pray that I can instill in my family and coming generations this same sense of mission, and the hope that the world can, and will be a better place.

Shabbat Shalom

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Parshat Vayechi - Beyond Death


In this week's parsha after all the tumultuous episodes in the life of Yaakov, Yaakov knows his time is coming to an end. And just as his father Yitzchak had done, and his father Avraham before them, he attempts to sort out his affairs and bless his children. He requests of Yosef not to bury him in Egypt, rather his will is to be buried with his forefathers and wife Leah in Eretz Yisrael in the Ma’arat Hamachpela. Later he blesses Ephraim and Menashe and all the rest of the Shevatim. Ultimately Yaakov’s mission in this world draws to a close as the Torah says: “When Yaakov finished instructing his sons, he drew in his feet onto the bed; he expired and was brought in to his people” (49:33). Thus concludes the difficult life of Yaakov.

The Gemara in Ta’anit (5b) makes a perplexing statement:

א''ר יוחנן יעקב אבינו לא מת
Rav Yochana said: Yaakov, our forefather, did not die

There are a multitude of explanations of this passage, some interpret it literally, others allegorically. However, Rav Tzadok, in his Sefer Resisei Layla (אות נו׳) explains that Yaakov perfected himself so, and lived on such a high spiritual level. Consequently, while normally the physical body is at odds with the spiritual, for Yaakov, the body was not a contradiction to his soul. The process of death, as is known in Kabbalah, is a wrenching and painful process of the soul being removed from the body, known as חיבוט בקבר. As the soul moves to the next world, it is confronted with the decay of the body. Since the soul has been housed in the body for so many years, this process serves to “re-train” the soul to dissociate itself from the body, and it is a painful process indeed. Yaakov, however, due to his greatness, had so divested himself of this עלמא דשיקרא that the process of “death” meant as little to him as one who removes a coat. The transition of the soul leaving the body was merely the shedding of an ancillary skin. In this way, death did not exist for Yaakov, thus, “Yaakov, our forefather, did not die”.

Still, I have wondered, what was so significant in particular about Yaakov Avinu that he reached this exalted status? Did not Avraham and Yitzchak Avinu also live on such “angelic” levels that they too should be considered as having “not died”?

Rashi in Vayeishev (37:1) quotes the Midrash Rabbah (פד-ג):

וישב: ביקש יעקב לישב בשלוה, קפץ עליו רוגזו של יוסף…
Yaakov desired to dwell in tranquility, [but] the pain of [the] [episode of] Yosef seized upon him.

The Midrash elaborates that HaShem exclaims: “is it not enough that the righteous will receive their share in the World To Come, but they also want tranquility in this world?” Meaning, Hashem in a sense deliberately gives challenges and withholds “rest” from the righteous, in this world. But why? What does this accomplish for them? And what is wrong with desiring tranquility? Is it not conducive to accomplishing our goals? Wouldn't a life of serenity allow Yaakov the “head space” to grow further in his service of Hashem?

In discussing this Midrash, the Alter of Novharadok (מדרגת האדם - נקודת האמת) makes an important distinction. There are two specific, but very different, states that a man can reach: שלוה and מנוחה. Shalva, explains the Alter, is when all of a man's needs are met. Of course, in this state, man can find a sense of calm and achieve great things. However it has one caveat: the minute one is lacking any particular “need,” he can be thrown into a tizzy of confusion or even madness, thus uprooting all his gains. Menucha, on the other hand is a much loftier level with greater stability. It is a state where man has peace of mind, but not because his needs have been met, but rather despite his lack of those needs. He has risen above; he has in fact uprooted his desires completely and is unchained, able to grow as he wishes.

The Alter explains that this was the “mistake” that Yaakov made, for Yaakov was asking not for this elevated state of Menucha, but rather he wished for Shalva. He wished to live out his final days in tranquility serving Hashem as his father had done. In response, Hashem sent Yaakov the episodes of Yosef. According to the explanation of the Alter, Hashem did this in order to convey to Yaakov the following message: the only way to truly grow is through challenges. When faced with difficulties, if a person rises to the challenge he can discover strengths within himself that he did not know existed. Rather than avoid dealing with the challenge and being left “as is”, he gains tools to handle anything that comes his way. These gains are concrete, they cannot be shaken when he is faced with lack of needs. Now, he has no needs. He has only strength.

However, the response to pain and trauma can go two directions: he can either bow to the pain, and let it overtake him building a protective shell that separates himself from humanity. Or he can embrace the challenges and allow it to be the harbinger of metamorphosis from a mere man to a totally different being, an elevated being that “doesn’t die”. Not because he is entirely above this world, but because he has risen beyond, through the realities of this world. For trials and tribulations have the power to cleanse a person from the alluring facades of this world, to give a person a laser-sharp focus on what is truly important: G-d, Torah, our families, and giving to others.

Yaakov, who suffered immeasurably in this world, whether it was Eisav, Dinah, Lavan and his trickery, the death of Rachel, or Yosef's absence, Yaakov had indeed risen to a higher level through his “few and bad...years of his life” (47:9). Yaakov’s comment was not a complaint to Pharoah but a statement of fact that his life did not compare to the quality of life that of his fathers, yet he had risen to new elevated status, seemingly even above them. Yaakov achieved a state where he was not attached to this world, and this lack of attachment to his body meant that he did not die.

May we all be able to recognize the strengths in ourselves through our challenges and use them to grow in our connection to Hashem and our true values in life.

Shabbat Shalom

Thursday, January 5, 2017

Parshat Vayigash - Nothing Too Small


In this week's parsha, the episode of Yosef and his brothers culminates with their reunion. Yosef finally reveals himself, and all appears to be forgiven as Yosef proclaims: “Do not be distressed, nor reproach yourself for having sold me here, for it was to be a provider that G-d sent me ahead of you…Thus G-d has sent me ahead of you to ensure your survival in the land and to sustain you for a momentous deliverance” (45:5-7).

In this light, Yosef offers the brothers to move down to Goshen, promising to support them, saying: “And I will provide for you there – for there will be five more years of famine – so you do not become destitute, you, your household, and all that is yours” (45:11).

The Ba’al Haturim discusses Yosef's insistence on his father and the brothers coming to Mitzrayim: “It is good for you to come here [Egypt] even if it means to leave the land of Israel, for you may become destitute in Torah, as you may not be able to learn Torah because of the famine…” The Ba’al Haturim explains that the motivation for the family to move was not material concerns, but rather spiritual; that perhaps the famine may cause them to “become destitute” in their Torah study.

The reason to leave the land to protect one’s Torah study is not without precedent, as codified in the Rambam (Melachim 5:9):
“It is always prohibited to go from the land of Israel to outside of the land, except to study Torah or to marry a woman or to save (possessions) from non-Jews, and [then] to return to the land. And so [too] may he go out for business. But to dwell outside the Land is prohibited unless there is intense famine…”

However, we could ask the following two questions on the Ba’al Haturim cited above. Firstly, why does he base the reason for leaving the Land, not on account of the famine, but rather because of limmud haTorah? From the Rambam we see that famine is apparently an even more valid reason, as it is even permitted to dwell in Chutz L’Aretz due to a famine, while one is only permitted to leave temporarily for Torah. What in particular about Torah study necessitates leaving the Land in this case? Additionally, what does the Ba’al Haturim mean in saying that the Shevatim would become “destitute in Torah”? Are we not talking about our great ancestors? How is it possible that they would become destitute, ie. completely lacking, in Torah study due to a famine? The very idea that they would abandon their Torah seems preposterous.

We could say the Ba’al Haturim is alluding to a profound insight about the study of Torah. Of course the Shevatim would have continued to study while remaining in the Land of Israel, even amidst the famine. Nonetheless, despite their dedication, the famine would inevitably affect their learning on even the most minute of levels. In some miniscule way, their understanding might be lacking. Their concern and sensitivity for this small decrease thus necessitated leaving the land.

However, one could think that the allowance to leave the Land of Israel to learn Torah only applies to those who are unable learn at all in the Land, or if their staying in Israel would be a severe impediment to their success in Torah study. But how do we know that if someone were to encounter a slight drop, that he would be permitted to leave? Perhaps this is what we learn from the Shevatim and their move: that even the slightest decrease in one's Torah learning is so tragic that it requires leaving Eretz Yisrael.

From this explanation we can come to a deeper appreciation of every bit of Torah, no matter how “small.” In truth, when it comes to Torah learning, nothing is small and no attainment is insignificant. Therefore, even the potential loss of some of it is taken with utmost seriousness. Each piece of Torah is immensely valuable in its own right as well as a step towards even greater knowledge. Too often, we can fall into despair, feeling that our achievements are worthless; or that if we were to undertake something new, we would not succeed. This is a cancerous attitude, which only serves to impinge on our happiness – the ultimate key to progress. And happiness aside, this mentality surely stunts any potential growth, as it forces us into defeat before we even begin! This mindset must avoided at all costs and discarded immediately. Rather, we should learn to view any and all accomplishments not only a sign of progression, but as having tremendous value unto themselves. They can then foster a positive attitude which will be the key to our ultimate, higher goals.

We should be blessed with this level of spiritual recognition and inculcate this attitude of growth within ourselves.

Shabbat Shalom

Naftali Kassorla


Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Parshat Mikeitz/Channuka - Rising to the Occasion




Last week’s parsha concludes with Yosef in prison after having been accused of assaulting Potiphar’s wife. Placed with the Sar Ha’mashkim and the Sar Ha’ofim, he successfully interprets their dreams. Yosef requests of the Sar Ha’mashkim to remember him and mention his name to Pharaoh to be released. However, the Sar Ha'mashkim forgets, and Chazal say that as a punishment for putting faith in the wrong place, Yosef remained confined for an extra two years. Next, Pharaoh is stricken with dreams for which he cannot find a meaningful interpretation. Finally, the Sar Ha’mashkim recalls Yosef and suggests that he be summoned to interpret the dreams.

Pharaoh sends for Yosef, and in a flash he is brought before Pharaoh. Pharaoh gives great honor to Yosef saying, “I have dreamt a dream, but no one can interpret it. Now I heard it said of you that you comprehend a dream to interpret it.” Pharoah ascribes a tremendous amount of power to Yosef, that he alone can interpret the dream. Yet Yosef responds, ״בלעדי אלוקים יענה את-שלום פרעה״ – “That is beyond me; G-d will respond to Pharoah’s welfare.” Rashi explains Yosef's response, “That is beyond me” as:  “The wisdom to interpret dreams is not mine, rather ‘G-d will respond’ that is, He will put a response in my mouth ‘for Pharoah’s welfare.’”

The Mesiach Ilmim (רבי יהודה כלץ), a commentary on Rashi, expounds on this as follows: The word בלעדי does not mean “other than me”; Yoseph did not tell Pharaoh, “I will not answer. G-d is the one who will respond instead.” Yosef was actually saying that although the capability of interpretation comes from G-d alone, Yosef would act as the conduit of G-d in relaying the messages. Rather than remove himself from something he was incapable of doing, he recognized his position as G-d’s messenger.

This is such a powerful idea for us, for so often we are confronted with challenges that may seem impossible, which feel like they can only be overcome by G-d himself! We feel that we cannot muster the strength or the wisdom to know the right thing to do, and to be able to do it. Or perhaps we have lofty goals that we feel incapable of accomplishing. Yet if we let go and ascribe all greatness to G-d, if we recognize that the results are ultimately decided by Him alone and realize that we are merely His messengers, we can overcome any challenge and reach heights of wisdom that we could not fathom to have reached on our own. We should not cower when faced with daunting tasks, but rather view ourselves as second to the All-powerful King for Whom no challenge is too great. In that light, we can do anything with His help.

This is a fitting message for the holiday of Chanukkah, when Hashem “delivered the strong into the hands of the weak, the many into the hands of the few…” Rather than capitulate when faced with the sheer absurdity of the imbalance, both in numbers and strength, the Chashmonaim – scholars of  the Torah – trusted in G-d. Their shortcomings did not cause them to fear, but instead to submit themselves to Hashem’s mission, and they emerged victorious.

This should give us chizzuk in all our endeavors, small and great. With G-d’s help, may we grow and accomplish the so called “un-achievable”.

Shabbat Shalom

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Parshat Vayeishev - The Measure of Holiness


In this week’s parsha we learn the tragic event of the selling of Yosef. Yosef shares his dreams of grandeur with his brothers and engenders negative feelings from them. Additionally, Yaakov gives Yosef a special coat signifying Yaakov’s love for him. Fearing Yosef to be a threat, the brothers decide to dispose of him, initially wanting to have him killed. But due to Reuven’s intervention, Yehuda and the brothers decide instead to sell Yosef to merchants heading down to Egypt.

Thus begins the the arduous exile of the Jewish people in the land of Egypt. Yosef is thrown into servitude in the house of Potiphar. Quickly proving himself to be capable, Yosef is appointed to a position of authority of the household. He draws the attention of Potiphar's wife who seeks to tempt him. As is known, Yosef overcomes this test, but in light of the wife’s accusations is nevertheless imprisoned.

There is a fascinating Gemara in Sotah (36b) which contrasts this with another episode from the parsha: that of Yehuda and Tamar. Yehuda, having been tricked by Tamar to father a child to her, openly admits to being the father. He does so despite severe embarrassment, having already sentenced Tamar to death for her actions and subsequently needing to retract his condemnation. Thus he was given the merit that his name יהודה be comprised of G-d’s ineffable name י-ה-ו-ה. The Gemara goes on to say that this differs from Yosef’s name, which only includes part of Hashem’s name: י-ה-ו (This is based on Psalm 81:6, the Gemara explains that the letter ה was added to Yosef's name, spelling יהוסף.) The Gemara then elaborates with great detail the story of Yosef and the wife of Potiphar, how difficult a challenge it was and the extent to which Yosef went not to succumb to temptation. In juxtaposing this with Yehuda’s act of strength, the Gemara seems to imply that Yosef somehow fell short. As such, he was not granted a merit as high as Yehuda’s. On the other hand, the Gemara appears to be praising Yosef for his great accomplishment. How then is that an explanation for why Yosef was not as meritorious?

In discussing the concept of “Yichud,” my esteemed Rosh Yeshiva Rav Aharon Lopiansky Shlit”a once quoted his Rebbe Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz zt”l (famed Rosh Yeshiva of the Mir in Yerushalayim) on the matter: When it comes to the world of avoiding עריות (licentious behavior), the measure of success is not based on falling prey in the moment or not. Rather, the true test is whether or not we have taken the necessary precautions beforehand, not to put ourselves in a precarious position to begin with. Thus, says the Rosh Yeshiva Rav Chaim, this is the depth of the prohibition of Yichud, for it guarantees that a person not even be placed in a challenging situation. One who is careful with these halachot has passed the test.

With this in mind we can now attempt to understand Yosef Hatzadik, who is known throughout rabbinic literature for his holiness and purity, and the Gemara’s apparent critique despite his having overcome his Yetzer Harah. For perhaps we can say (in our superficial understanding of his motives) that Yosef should not have been in the situation at all. The fact that he overcame the temptation, while showing great strength and surely deserving of praise, does not exempt him from making sure he does not find himself in a place where he is tempted. A true showing of success in this area would have been the extent to which he went to avoid such circumstances. This may be what the Gemara is addressing in telling us that Yosef was not so meritorious as to have his name fully reflect that of G-d’s. (In fact, the Gemara (ibid.) quotes an opinion that interprets the passuk, “And it was on that day that he entered the house to do his work” (39:11) – he went to fulfill his needs with her, i.e. to have relations with her. Meaning that he indeed went with the intention of sinning. Even according to the alternate opinion, that he went to do actual work, he still should not have been alone, having known Potiphar's wife had tried to seduce him in the past).*

It is important to reiterate that we cannot fully ascertain the true understanding of both the Gemara and Yosef's actions, but we can take this as lesson to internalize: we must not allow ourselves to be placed in precarious situations where we are likely to be tested. Post facto, if G-d forbid we have indeed succumbed, the correct course of action is not to wallow in sadness, for clearly, once in the situation, it is understandable that the challenge may be too great at that point. We should simply take it as a lesson for the future to make the proper precautions and סייגים to ensure that it will not happen again.

May Hashem grant us the strength to resist any negative temptations that come our way, and may we all have the wisdom to always put ourselves in places that will be conducive to growth, happiness and greater avodat Hashem.

*According the above, one could still ask: Yehuda himself also should not have put himself into the situation with Tamar! So what is the great praise of Yehuda, in comparison to Yosef? Seemingly, Yosef is even more praiseworthy, for he didn't succumb to temptation, while Yehuda did in fact “give in” in being with Tamar. Perhaps we then need to take into consideration the explanation of Yehuda’s actions according to the Midrash and the Da’at Zekeinim, which say that an Angel forced Yehuda, and that it was not by his own will. He is therefore not held accountable. The great act of strength we are highlighting about Yehudah is not whether he gave in to temptation of arayot, but rather the fact that he later admitted to his sin, and for that he is rewarded.






Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Parshat Vayishlach - A Blessed Life: A Tribute to Rabbi Elchonon Zomber zt”l

This week's parsha describes the tense encounter of Yaakov with Eisav; it is the first time they have met after Yaakov “bested” him, in receiving the blessing from their father, Yitzchak. Eisav, having waited for Yitzchak to die so he could exact his revenge upon Yaakov, collects an army of 400 hundred men and approaches Yaakov. In his fear and anticipation of this showdown, Yaakov prepares accordingly and places his children and wives in separate camps to ensure that there will be at least some survivors.

Yaakov's preparation included gifts for Eisav – a large quantity of animals – in order to steer Eisav away from his rage. Finally they meet. Yaakov is completely self-effacing, bowing towards Eisav in a show of deference. Eisav (as Rashi explains) is overcome with mercy and runs towards Yaakov to embrace him, even kissing him. Yaakov's attempts to appease Eisav do not stop there. He entreats Eisav to take the gifts that he had prepared for him, exclaiming: “Please accept my homage, which was brought to you” (33:11). Interestingly, the Torah uses the word ברכתי as opposed to מתנה or מנחתי – which would be more fitting for the context. Even more curious, is that the Torah previously used the word מנחתי when referring to these gifts (32:14). Rashi, seemingly bothered by this change, explains that in fact ברכתי does mean מנחתי. But still, why change now? What is the significance of Yaakov using the word ברכתי instead of מנחתי?

I believe that Yaakov was trying to send a message to Eisav. In confronting Yaakov, Eisav is faced with the tremendous blessings that G-d has bestowed upon his brother; Eisav sees first-hand Yaakov's great riches, a clear culmination of the blessings of Avraham and Yitzchak, which Eisav felt he was supposed to receive. By using the word ברכתי, Yaakov was trying to reference the blessing. But if so, how can Yaakov seemingly offer up the blessing to Eisav? Did Yaakov not go to great lengths to receive it in place of Eisav? How could he “give it back” now?

This was the message that Yaakov wanted to send: The value of the blessing was not materialistic; it was not a blessing for riches nor for honor. The blessings of Avraham and Yitzchak are so much greater than that. They are a mission: a life of purpose and of meaning for ourselves and for others. Yaakov was, in essence, saying, “Eisav – if you perceive the blessing so superficially as to think the sum of its parts is just materialism, then yes – take it” But in no way was Yaakov giving the blessing away, rather he was sending a message of what it’s true value is.

This message is very powerful for myself and my family, especially now. This past Monday night and Tuesday marked the first Yahrtzeit of my esteemed and beloved brother-in-law, Rabbi Elchonon Zomber zt”l. There is no one I can think of who embodied this message as well as Elchonon. He lived a life of meaning and of giving, above and beyond one of mere superficiality. He submitted himself to a path of true depth: teaching his students, both Torah and Math. Anyone who met him immediately sensed how incredibly talented and capable he was; he could have used his tremendous mind for his own self aggrandizement, or his own pocketbook. Yet he chose to devote himself to something much higher, much deeper, and ultimately more meaningful for a myriad of people. Nothing gave him more fulfillment than to see his students grow, mature, and ultimately succeed, and he cherished being a part of that process. The impact of his untimely death on our own lives is truly immeasurable, yet we take solace in that fact that we can use it as an opportunity to learn from his life and become better people, creating everlasting merit for his neshama.

Yehi Zichro Baruch

Shabbat Shalom


Thursday, December 8, 2016

Parshat Vayeitzei - The Loud Sound of Silence

This week's parsha, in continuing the episode of Yaakov and Eisav’s rivalry, tells of Yaakov's journey from Be’er Sheva to Charan. Rashi (verse 10) notes that his leaving was significant because “the departure of a Tzaddik makes an impression, for as long as he is there, he is their magnificence, he is their splendor...Once he leaves, the [city’s] magnificence has gone away, its splendor has gone away...” Clearly both Yaakov's presence in and exiting of the city was impactful.  

One may wonder why Yaakov in particular is used as the illustration for this idea. We have already heard of a few departures of the righteous from their towns, some of the most notable being Avraham from Ur Kasdim and Yitzchak to Gerar to see Avimelech. Surely these also made an impression on their cities, yet we have no mention of this idea in those instances. What is so significant about Yaakov's departure in comparison with the others that warrants this special status?

As we know from the Midrashic sources, in the period between his leaving of his family and his setting off for Charan, Yaakov went to study in the Yeshiva of Shem V’Ever for 14 years. But when and where did this happen? The Meharsha in Megillah (17a) points out that if it is true that he spent 14 years in the house of Shem V’Ever, it would seem to contradict the verse itself – which implies that he left Be’er Sheva and went directly to Charan, without any stops along the way. Furthermore, the Midrash Rabbah and the Gemara in Chullin (91b) explain that the dream of the Ladders and the Angels actually occurred when Yaakov was still in Be’er Sheva, even though it is mentioned after the passuk has already told us that Yaakov was on his way. This would again imply that once Yaakov left Be’er Sheva, there were no detours before his arrival in Charan.

To resolve this issue, the Meharsha gives an answer that is meaningful on many levels. The Meharsha explains that the Yeshiva of Shem V’Ever was actually in the city of Be’er Sheva itself. Therefore, when the Torah says that Yaakov left Be’er Sheva to go to Charan, it was already after the 14 years of study. This is stunning; we know that throughout that time, Eisav was seeking retribution from Yaakov for stealing the Bracha. If Eisav were to find him, he would surely have exacted revenge upon Yaakov. Yet, according to the Meharsha, Yaakov remained in the very same city with the person looking to kill him and was never caught! This obviously bespeaks of the great Hatmada (diligence) Yaakov in his learning – he must not have left the Yeshiva throughout the entire 14 years, for had he done so, he would have been found by Eisav.

According this Meharsha we can now answer our question. Why was Yaakov chosen to illustrate the concept of the impact of a Tzaddik on his city, when we already have prior examples to learn from? As explained previously, for much of the time that Yaakov was in Be’er Sheva, he remained hidden behind the walls of the Yeshiva, and probably did not make much contact with the people outside. Yet even with all this secrecy, the Midrash says “the departure of a Tzaddik makes an impression, for as long as he is there, he is their magnificence, he is their splendor...Once he leaves, the [city’s] magnificence is gone away, it's splendor has gone away...” Yaakov, being a complete unknown, is in actuality “the splendor” of the city, and his departure is marked as a loss despite the complete lack of awareness of the residents! The very presence of a ben-Torah in the town is a merit, even when he does not make an active effort to interact with others. Of course we understand that one who goes out and speaks to the people directly can influence them for the good, but only from Yaakov could we learn that a person who sits indoors and does his avodat Hashem privately, makes a strong impact on the public as well, if not even more so.

What an important lesson for us all - we all want to make our mark and do all we can for K’lal Yisrael. Whether we find ourselves in the public sphere or not, we need to remember that first and foremost, our personal efforts in serving Hashem make the greatest impression.

May we all be able to be a source of merit for the entire nation in all that we do.

Shabbat Shalom
Naftali Kassorla

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Parshat Toldot - Yaakov's Truth

This week's parsha tells us of the rivalry and difference of character between Yaakov and Eisav. Yaakov was “איש תם יושב אוהלים”, while Eisav was a man of the field. The Medrash relays how already from the womb, the contrast was stark. When Rivka would pass the Beit Midrash, her stomach would rustle, and when she passed a house of idol worship, the same would occur.
Despite Yaakov’s piety, Eisav was the bechor – the firstborn – and thus was entitled to the blessing for the firstborn son.
 
In what is one of the more difficult episodes in the Torah to understand, we learn of the means to which Yaakov had to resort in order to acquire the blessings in place of his brother. By the command of his mother Rivka, Yaakov presents himself to Yitzchak as though he is Eisav. On a surface level, this is accomplished through trickery and false pretenses – a difficulty which many commentators have dealt with at length.
 
There is a fascinating Gemara in Makkot (24a) which expounds on the verse in Tehillim (15:3):
לא רגל על לשונו זה יעקב אבינו, דכתיב אולי ימושני אבי והייתי בעיניו כמתעתע
“Has no slander upon his tongue” this refers to Yaakov, our forefather, as it is written “Perhaps my father will feel me and I will be in his eyes like a deceiver.”
 
Rashi (In Makkot) explains:
He [Yaakov] initially did not want to lie, thus he said “Perhaps my father will feel me…But his mother [Rivka] forced him, as she had a prophecy..etc.”
The implication here is that Yaakov, in voicing his fear of being caught, is demonstrating his trait of honesty.
 
This concept is truly perplexing; the Gemara is attempting to show that Yaakov always spoke the truth, yet the proof it brings to support its assertion is from one of the most seemingly duplicitous episodes in the Torah! Furthermore, Yaakov appears to be concerned that his father will feel him and “catch him in the act.” From the fact that Yaakov bases his concern on his father possibly discovering his identity, we may infer that were Yaakov assured that he would not get caught, he would have no apprehension. How does this show honesty, and how is this a proof to the Gemara’s point?
 
I posed this question to my rebbe, Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl Shlit”a (former Chief Rabbi of the Old City) and he explained this Gemara based on an idea from the Vilna Gaon in Parshat Chayei Sarah. Every time אולי (perhaps) is written, it is actually an expression of a hope or desire for something to occur. For example: Eliezer, the servant of Avraham, said regarding his mission to find a wife for Yitzchak: ״אולי לֹא־תלך האשה אחרי״. The ksiv (i.e. the way it is written in the Torah) is spelled without the letter vav, so the word can also be read אלי. On this word, Rashi brings the Medrash which explains that Eliezer really did not want Rivka to follow him, and that he was searching for a pretext for Yitzchak to marry his own daughter in place of Rivka (hinted to in the word “אלי” – “to me”). With the word אולי, the Torah is alluding to Eliezer’s inner desire that things would not work out as planned.
 
According to this, says HaRav Nebenzahl, the verse from Toldos is the greatest proof of Yaakov’s complete integrity. In saying “Perhaps my father will feel me,” Yaakov was not expressing fear of being caught – to the contrary! His very desire was to be caught, lest he have to follow through with that which could be perceived as dishonest.
 
Here we see the lengths to which Yaakov was willing to go to avoid lying, even in a permissible situation. He was personally prepared to forfeit the place of the firstborn, and all the spiritual and material benefits that go along with it. This one decision could also affect the entire course of man’s history and the future of the Jewish nation, allowing Eisav to reign with the special rights given to him. Yaakov only acquiesced in deference to his mother’s command, which was based on a prophecy showing that this was the correct way to act.
 
What a lesson in how gravely serious it is to lie, and how much we should be prepared to sacrifice to avoid doing so.
 
 
Shabbat Shalom

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Chayei Sarah - Unspoken Virtues

This week's parsha tells us of the mission Eliezer was sent to fulfill, to find a wife for Yitzchak, his master's son. Eliezer requested of G-d a sign to show him who was fitting for Yitzchak, and the request he makes is a fascinating one. Technically, all Eliezer needed to do was seek out Betuel and Lavan and pick out the girl for Yitzchak. Yet he doesn't do that. Instead, he sets up a test of sorts: “Behold I am standing by the spring water...let it be that the maiden to whom I shall say ‘Please tip over your jug so I may drink’, and who replies ‘Drink, and I will even water your camels.’”

The Malbim explains, that the motivation for Eliezer's request was to glean something about the character of Rivka. He preferred someone of modest means, the kind who would draw water herself, not through her servants, despite her family's wealth.

Eliezer asks G-d that Rivka should respond, “Drink, and I will even water your camels.” The Sforno explains that her response will go beyond Eliezer’s request, and she will offer all that is needed...
However, in the actual playing-out of this episode (verse 18), Rivka, initially does not mention a word about watering the camels. She speaks only of bringing water for Eliezer, and then proceeds to draw water for the camels too. Rav Moshe Feinstein Zt”l powerfully explains that so great was Rivka’s kindness, it was second-nature to her that another's needs should be provided for. That Eliezer’s camels had to be watered was so obvious that she saw no need to say she would do it. Chesed was so much a core of her personality that it went beyond second-nature; it was her essence.

Rav Moshe is saying an incredible idea: the unspoken acts of kindness, the innate traits, are sometimes greater than the outspoken and verbalized ones. It showed that kindness was deeply ingrained her very fiber. In a certain sense it didn't need to be “verbalized” – and perhaps if it was, it would have cheapened it.
The need to verbalize and publicize our ideals is known as “Virtue Signaling.” To bloviate, to speak of ideals, serves to make us feel good about ourselves, for we have now shown others how virtuous we are. But too often, it leads to a feeling of superiority, so that when acts of kindness are performed, it's not because they are ingrained in us. Instead, it is a robotic mirroring of chesed, of what we (or others) perceive to be kindness. Inevitably, this “kindness” will be misapplied – because it’s merely a cheap knock-off of the real thing.
This lesson of the ingrained trait of chesed is beautifully contrasted to last week's episode of Lot and the angels in Sodom. On the one hand, he risked his life to save his guests, mirroring Avraham's trait of kindness. Yet on the other hand, incredibly, he offered his own children to the rabid mob of Sodomites. How could he act in such a contradictory manner? To protect his guests, while serving up his own children?!

In light of what we discussed above, the Alter of Slabodka explains* that Lot’s chesed was a superficial form of kindness, which while on the surface appeared virtuous, did not go beyond the surface level. It was not ingrained in him in a true way, and therefore it was horribly misapplied. This led him to protect his guests at all costs, while sacrificing his own children! Chesed – or any trait for that matter – that is not really processed into our character, is only skin-deep. It is not real.

The greatness of Rivka was that her kindness was not a virtue, or an ideal to be “spoken about,” rather it was a reality, it was her life. It was as much a concrete part of her personality as her name. This is what Eliezer was looking for in a spouse for the son of Avraham, the paragon of kindness, the epitome of inculcating the trait of kindness in his service to G-d.

This is the level of character that we strive for: to have chesed become ingrained in our essence and a part of both our conscious and subconscious. We should grow strong in our resolve and be blessed in our efforts in this endeavor.

Shabbat Shalom

*See the Alter’s explanation of the Midrash which states that Lot was saved from Sedom in the merit of his revealing to the Egyptians that Sarah was the wife of Avraham, and not his Hachnasas Orchim. He explains that the act of Hachnasas Orchim was by habit, while the act of not revealing the truth about Avraham was true test of his loyalty. The struggle and overcoming is what is valued, not the act by rote.
 
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