Posts in Category: Divrei Torah
Toldos
The Kli Yakar discusses the three wells that Yitzchak excavates, and which the Torah details at length, in this week’s parsha. (Breishis 26:14-33)
The the three wells, says the Kli Yakar, are veiled references to the three Batei Mikdash.
#1
וַיָּרִיבוּ רֹעֵי גְרָר עִם רֹעֵי יִצְחָק לֵאמֹר לָנוּ הַמָּיִם וַיִּקְרָא שֵׁם הַבְּאֵר עֵשֶׂק כִּי הִתְעַשְּׂקוּ עִמּוֹ
And the shepherds of Gerar quarreled with Yitzchak’s shepherds, saying, “The water is ours”; so he named the well Esek, because they had contended with him.
וַיַּחְפְּרוּ בְּאֵר אַחֶרֶת וַיָּרִיבוּ גַּם עָלֶיהָ וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמָהּ שִׂטְנָה
This is the second Beis HaMikdash, which was defined by hatred between everyone – an even worse set of circumstances than the first. The Torah emphasizes that the first conflict over the wells was fought by the shepherds; a metaphor for the leaders, similar to the struggle for leadership by the destruction of the First Temple. The second quarrel “they” just fought; it was baseless hatred. Furthermore, they failed to heed the lesson of the first well (and Temple): וַיָּרִיבוּ גַּם עָלֶיהָ = “they fought about this one too”.
#3
The third excavation, however, had no such strife:
And he moved away from there, and he dug another well, and they did not quarrel over it; so he named it Rechovot, and he said, “For now the Lord has made room for us, and we will be fruitful in the land.”
The third well is defined by peace. The word for peace is שלום, from the root שלם = whole. With peace, there is wholeness, harmony and room for expansion.
Chazal teach us that Eisav’s offspring can only be defeated by Rachel’s offspring (Bava Basra 123b).
By contrast, Yosef takes an entirely different approach following Yaakov’s passing in dealing with his brothers who wronged him. Following Yaakov’s passing, the brothers say (Breishis 50:15):
The brothers were afraid that Yosef would take revenge on them for selling him, and now that Yaakov has passed away, it would be time for reckoning. Yosef, however, forgives them unconditionally, bearing no grudge, understanding it was all Hashem’s plan (50:21):
Also interesting to contrast language when Eisav decides to kill Yaakov, versus when Yosef eases his brothers’ fears.
As offspring of Rachel we have this middah of being able to let go of hatred, correcting the sin’at chinam which destroyed Bayis Sheini, so that we may usher in Bayis Shlishi.
Chayei Sarah
Rashi on the passuk says “ein sicha elah teffilah” = the terminology of sicha/conversing connotes prayer. He bases this on a passuk from Tehillim 102:1: יִשְׁפֹּךְ שִׂיחוֹ
Rav Avroham Schorr shlita poses a question with regards to Rashi’s assertion. In Devarim Rabba on Parshas Va’eschanan, the Midrash lists 10 expressions for teffila, yet sicha is not one of them. What is the concept of sicha and what kind of teffila is it?
Rav Schorr specifically writes about the latter – when we experience hester panim – the “concealment” of Hashem’s presence. The idea of sicha as a way to connect with Hashem, is that even when we cannot pray to Hashem properly, there is a special form of connectivity, more akin to conversation than prayer; a simple recitation of words, in the hopes of re-attaining the closeness we once felt.
Of course we should try to find the most optimal frame of mind to daven Mincha, but if and when we cannot, there is still this teffila l’ani – a simple way of trying to connect with Hashem – that we can employ. Hence, the passuk from Tehillim above, now quoted in full:
Rav Schorr specifically writes (quoting the Ohev Yisrael in Vayeitzei) that the time of galus and the absence of the Beis HaMikdash (i.e. our days), is the time we often have no choice but to employ the sicha form of teffila.
Rav Tzvi Sobolofsky shlita offers a slightly different approach, not focusing on the dark times, but instead on the “in between” times. Chazal (Rosh Hashana 18b), while discussing the status of fast days associated with the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, divide Jewish history into three categories: (1) During times of peace, these days become times of celebration; (2) when there are decrees of persecution, we are obligated to fast on these days; finally, (3) at times of neither complete peace nor persecution, these fast days are voluntary. Although we have accepted to fast on these days even during times when there is no outright persecution, technically, these three categories govern the status of these days as actual fast days.
It is fairly simple to approach Hashem during the morning, when we have just been restored from our slumber (Gemara Brachos 57b, says that sleep is 1/60 death). It can also be easy to reach out to Hashem at night, in a time of despair, with nowhere else to turn.
The majority of our lives, however, are hopefully spent – at the very least – somewhere in the middle. Hester panim does not only mean a time of tragedy or difficulty; sometimes, we simply don’t feel a strong connection with Hashem.
When we are neither basking in Hashem’s warm, morning sun, nor shivering in search of help in the cold night, what is our relationship with Hashem?
The break that we take in the middle of our busy days to recite teffilas Mincha, allows us to remember that Hashem controls all aspects of our lives – the good, the bad and everything in between.
Vayeira
Vayeira opens with Avraham being visited by three men/angels, bearing wonderful news of Sarah’s impending pregnancy.
As written in the Torah, there are three nekudos on top of the word אֵלָיו ; one on the Alef, the Yud and the Vav.
These three dotted letters together spell Ayo, meaning, “Where is he?” Rashi explains that the angels asked two questions; one to Avraham asking the whereabouts of Sarah, and one to Sarah asking the whereabouts of Avraham. (Rashi quotes Breishis Rabba, which says that these questions teach us the trait of inquiring about one’s hosts. To a man one should ask, “How is your wife?” and to a woman, “How is your husband?”)
The Kli Yakar, however, asked a fairly obvious question – why did the angels have to inquire about Avraham and Sarah’s locations? (A) The angles knew each of Avraham and Sarah’s locations (seeing as how they were messengers of Hashem), and (B) the text even tells us in the immediately preceding passuk, that Avraham was standing over them!
Avraham answers – בָאֹהֶל – allegorically speaking, ‘we are the recipients of this miracle on the merit of the tent.’
On the other side of the same coin, Avraham kept their tent open to guests, travelers, and those wanting to learn more about Hashem. So Sarah, answers, ‘we merited this miracle because of the chessed and the kindness with which Avraham conducts himself in the tent.’
A few lessons highlighted here, is that a couple can be so successful when each spouse recognizes the other’s strengths, attributing the blessings in their lives to the greatness of the other; and, that the home (ohel) and the manner in which it functions, sets the tone for the family living in it.
One final point I would like to make is to stress not only Sarah’s modesty, but also Avraham’s: In the first five verses of Vayeira, there is no reference to Avraham’s name, only being referred to in the anonymous 3rd person:
The text uses Avraham’s name for the first time to tell us that “Avraham hurried to the tent to Sarah…and to the cattle ran Avraham” (18:6-7).
When Avraham comes back to serve his guests and stand by them, the text reverts to the 3rd person:
Avraham just received this new name in Parshas Lech Lecha, as the Av Hamon Goyim – a tremendous honor. Yet the Torah spares us the usage of the name when angels are visiting him, but includes it to talk about Avraham running to the cattle?!
Perhaps an explanation (based in part on an idea from Rav Nison Alpert ztl) is that Avraham did not think the angels were visiting him because he was anyone so special. He was sitting outside in the heat, welcoming any traveler who might be passing by. But when it came time to make a kiddush Hashem and prepare for his guests, as an agent of Hashem, then he did so with the zeal and responsibility as Avraham – Av Hamon Goyim. Avraham could not control who came to the opening of his tent. Whoever came – perhaps he thought – did so because Hashem sent them, having nothing to do with Avraham’s greatness; but what he could control, is how he acted as their humble, and privileged host. If Hashem was calling upon him to serve and enlighten others, then Avraham’s actions had to be taken as the agent of Hashem.
Perhaps we can also say that Avraham’s excitement and haste to serve his guests, is somehow connected to the signs given to Eliezer in the next parsha, upon finding Rivka as a wife for Yitzchak. There is a parallel that seems to exist between the two stories – both involve hurrying to serve foreigners, and the language employed in both is virtually identical:
Rivkah in 24:20:
וַתְּמַהֵר וַתְּעַר כַּדָּהּ אֶל-הַשֹּׁקֶת וַתָּרָץ עוֹד אֶל הַבְּאֵר לִשְׁאֹב וַתִּשְׁאַב לְכָל גְּמַלָּיו
Together, on account of their collective middot, Avraham and Sarah merited a miraculous birth, a tzaddik of a son, and a tzaddeikes of a daughter-in-law.
Lech Lecha
In a number of places within the stories of these travels, the Rav notes an underlying theme: Staying true to our beliefs, in the face of outside influence and pressure.
A closer look:
Ten verses in the parsha (12:10), Hashem tests Avraham by creating a famine in the land, forcing Avraham to go to Egypt. The Rav notes that Egypt at that time was a very attractive and cultured country. Would Avraham succumb to Egyptian society?
Hashem repeats this test with Yaakov and Yosef as well, both being sent to Egypt (willingly and otherwise), to show that a Jew can live in exile, while still retaining his spiritual identity – whether as a poor shepherd or a high ranking official. These trials were needed as examples to show us – the decedents of these giants – how to live in our eventual exile.
While Avraham thwarted the temptation of any Egyptian influence, some members of his entourage/family were not as strong-willed. His nephew, Lot, departs with Avraham from Egypt (13:1), but nuanced language in the text implies that Lot was not WITH Avraham in same manner he had been previously in the parsha.Earlier in the parsha (12:4), the Torah says:
וַיֵּלֶךְ אַבְרָם כַּאֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר אֵלָיו ה’ וַיֵּלֶךְ אִתּוֹ לוֹט
I think there is further proof of this on their next journey from the south of Israel to Beit El (13:5). There the Torah uses a peculiar phrase of:
One passuk later, Lot doesn’t even accompany Avraham at all. 13:6
Later in the parsha, the Rav notes something very interesting regarding the two central covenants that form the Jewish people as Hashem’s children and nation. A covenant, he points out, is an agreement binding one or several parties to a set of obligations.
The covenant at Sinai – the acceptance of the yoke of Torah – has obvious obligations and commitments associated with it.
The Rav beautifully explains that “the patriarchic covenant apparently imparts teachings to the Jewish people by example rather than by prescription.” It teaches us how to experience our “Jewishness,” sensitizing us to ideals, mindsets, and values. “It guides our feelings and consciousness, rather than our actions, for we are duly bound not only to act as Jews but to feel as Jews.”
There are dozens of values and qualities that could be listed – compassion, chessed, truth, modesty, emunah, etc. to name a few. I think that one in particular that relates to maintaining our identity when outside our Homeland is loyalty to and longing to be back in that very Homeland.
Lot loses his connection to Hashem and Avraham, specifically in a foreign land, lured away by the superficial beauty of Egypt. Avraham is eager to return to Bet El to thank and serve Hashem there. That eagerness to get back to his Land, seems to at least be part of the reason for his success outside the Land. מעשה אבות סימן לֹבנים
Finally, it is Interesting to note in the story of the 4 kings versus the 5 kings, that Avraham, against great odds, takes a small army against a much larger army, and travels long distances to rescue Lot from his captors. (14:14-15). Despite Lot’s recent rejection of Avraham’s teachings, his value as a person and as part Avraham’s newly Jewish family is not diminished. The Rav points out, that, caught in the whirlwind of history, there is no difference between a committed Jew and an assimilated Jew (our enemies certainly make no differentiation); both are affected by conflict, persecution and anti-semetism, and both are equally worthy of concern and saving.
Noach
Upon examination of the psukim describing the dispatch of the birds from the Ark (8:6-13), an interesting ‘subplot’ is revealed.
The story may be divided into 2 birds and 4 sections/dispatches:
I. To begin, the Dove – as a species – is used to invoke romance, multiple times in Shir HaShirim (1:15, 2:14, 4:1, 5:2, 6:9). So a dove generally has an innate romantic element. To quote 1:15 for good measure:
הִנָּךְ יָפָה רַעְיָתִי הִנָּךְ יָפָה עֵינַיִךְ יוֹנִים
II. Now to begin with the psukim in Parshas Noach, there is a clear difference between the sending of the raven and the sendings of the dove.
III. More differences abound when looking at the birds’ return to Noach (or lack thereof):
It’s a fairly heavy passuk, if you really look at it. The dove returns not only to the Ark for shelter, but TO Noach himself.
IV. Furthermore, the Torah could have stopped there and we would know that the dove simply returned. Instead, we are told that Noach – seeing that the dove was unable to find “a rest for the sole of her foot” – outstretches his hand, to provide her a place of comfort to rest, and bring her back into the protective Ark.
“And he took her, and brought her to him” sounds awfully descriptive of a husband and wife. For example:
V. Additionally, the Torah implements some word play in writing that the dove did not find “manoach” (rest) on her mission – she could not find a restful perch outside the Ark, away from Noach, so she returns to find manoach with Noach.
VI. The closeness is perhaps most apparent upon the dove’s second return. (8:11)
VII. Also, the olive branch is not only a sign of the existence of foliage (and peace), but also materials a bird would use to build a nest – AKA a home.
VIII. Staying with passuk 8:11, the Torah says:
Obviously nobody is getting pregnant in our passuk, but I do believe there is a romantic excitement on the part of Noach, brought on by the dove’s finding of the olive branch, that the waters have begun to recede and the world is returning to normal.
IX. Finally, for Dispatch #3, the Torah only says that the dove was sent (i.e. not “from Noach”, like in Dispatch #1 in 8:8), and the dove does not return – further diminishment of closeness as noted at the end of Point VII.
The most common admonishment of Noach in Chazal is that, unlike Avraham, Noach uttered not a single word of protest nor attempt to save his fellow man when Hashem informed him of impending destruction.
Noach needed to learn the lesson of thinking about and caring for others (kavod ha’brios and ahavas ha’brios), and he needed to do so on his own (note that Hashem does not instruct Noach to send out the raven or the dove; it is Noach’s own initiative). He cares for the dove, and the dove cares for him.
The evening (as noted above – the time of day when the dove climactically returns with the olive branch) is also a transitionary period. It transitions day into night; yesterday into today (per our lunar calendar). In the evening you transition from being a spouse away from your husband/wife during the day, to being reunited spouses in the evening (unless you’re a doctor, banker, lawyer, accountant during busy season, etc., in which case it’s more likely you reunite in the early morning hours). Perhaps Noach begins to make the transition into a more caring person. He is eager to take the olive branch – a sign of the earth healing – and imagine an improved world, replacing the “chamas” that had filled the world prior to the flood (6:11), with chessed.
As for the 7 day wait, and the dove’s lack of return, of course in a real (human) marriage, we hope that a spouse is not sent away immediately after Sheva Brachos never to return again, as in Dispatch #3. That would be rather sad.
Noach obviously was not going to carry on a romantic relationship with the dove. But having developed the characteristics of care for the dove during his time in the Ark, he no longer needed the dove, but not in a cold way. The relationship with the dove diminishes, because Noach begins to internalize the lessons of compassion and closeness. Noach is now ready to step out into the new world.
Infused with ahava and chessed, Noach
V’zos Haberacha
Devarim 33:13:
I would like to humbly suggest a (somewhat shorthand) explanation of what this blessing might mean, based on a few ideas said over by Rav Aryeh Lebowitz shlita…
Yosef’s death is recorded at the end of Breishit and at the very beginning of Shemot, because Yosef had characteristics of both forefather and son. He is the bridge.The Midrash says that the Arbah Minim correspond to the following figures and traits:
- Esrog = Avraham: Heart, Ba’al chessed
- Lulav = Yitzchak: Spine, Gevurah, Courage.
- Hadas = Yaakov: Eyes, ‘Seeing is believing’, Emes
- Aravot = Yosef: Lips — revealing inner beauty (to hopefully be explained…)
How do we define beauty?
Rav Lebowitz explains that the opposite of beauty in Judaism is something sullied and dirtied; something that you can’t see beyond the surface.
Yosef/Aravot (the least externally attractive of the Arbah Minim) are likened to lips; lips/language take thoughts that can’t be seen and gives them expression; they uncover what is hidden. Language and word usage – implemented properly – is what separates us from the animal kingdom.
Yosef may have been a handsome guy, but that’s not what we celebrate. We admire and try to emulate his deep inner strength and beauty, and it is that authentic attractiveness that can bridge generations and make our rich mesorah attractive from father to son; from one generation to another.
…בַּסֻּכֹּת תֵּשְׁבוּ שִׁבְעַת יָמִים
לְמַעַן יֵדְעוּ דֹרֹתֵיכֶם כִּי בַסֻּכּוֹת הוֹשַׁבְתִּי אֶת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל
Ha’azinu (Rosh Hashana)
הַלְה’ תִּגְמְלוּ-זֹאת עַם נָבָל וְלֹא חָכָם הֲלוֹא הוּא אָבִיךָ קָּנֶךָ הוּא עָשְׂךָ וַיְכֹנְנֶךָ
“Do you thus requite the Lord?!… Is not He the Father who created you, fashioned you and made you endure?” (32:6).
This passuk appears to underscore BNY’s lack of gratitude toward Hashem; their abandoning and rejecting the “Father” who turned them into a nation and gave them all that they possessed.In the middle of this verse, the shira describes BNY as an “am naval ve-lo chacham” – which roughly translates as, “a despicable and unwise people.”
BNY is called out on on two matters: moral depravity (נָבָל – despicable) and foolishness (וְלֹא חָכָם – unwise). Read in context, the first adjective seems a more fitting description of BNY’s behavior than the second one. As stated, the verse seems to highlight BNY’s ungratefulness to G-d – as expressed by their rejection of Him – in spite of the ongoing kindness He showered upon them. Such ungratefulness clearly warrants the description of “despicable.”
But why does the verse also describe the nation as “unwise”? How does the lack of demonstrating gratitude make a person unwise?
The Ramban, expounding Targum Onkelos, associates the word “naval” with a term found earlier in the Torah, in Sefer Shmot (18:18) – “navol tibol” – which refers to fatigue, or weariness. The description of BNY as an “am naval” refers to them having “wearied themselves in intense fulfillment of the commandments of the Torah,” in the words of the Ramban; the perceived burden that G-d’s laws had become on their shoulders, prompting them to resort to other, new, foreign modes of religious worship. The Ramban says that were we wise, we would recognize that casting off Hashem only hurts us, not Hashem.
יִזְבְּחוּ לַשֵּׁדִים לֹא אֱלֹהַּ אֱלֹהִים לֹא יְדָעוּם חֲדָשִׁים מִקָּרֹב בָּאוּ לֹא שְׂעָרוּם אֲבֹתֵיכֶם
They sacrificed to demons, no-gods, gods they have never known, new ones, who came but lately, whom your fathers never feared. (32:17)
The verse emphasizes the novelty of these idols; the fact that Am Yisrael had not previously discovered these false deities. At first glance, this emphasis is meant to underscore the gravity of the transgression – that BNY substituted Hashem, with Whom they had a unique relationship with for centuries – with foreign deities with whom they had never previously associated. But in light of the explanation of the Ramban, we can interpret this verse as explaining why BNY resorted to new, foreign religions: specifically because they were new and foreign. BNY grew tired of their relationship with the one, true G-d and the mitzvot He commanded; they felt the time had come for the latest fad, something new, something different, something seemingly innovative.
Historical continuity is a central theme of Shirat Ha’azinu, as it says: “Remember the days of old, consider the years of ages past… ” (32:7). New is not necessarily better. In contrast to most everything else in existence, Torah does not lose its value with time; it is only our appreciation of Torah that often diminishes with time.
Shirat Ha’azinu implores us to be chacham – intelligent enough to retain our perspective and sense of priorities and recognize the magnificent gift we have been given, to be the Am HaNivchar and to study and practice Hashem’s Torah.
If we are able to accomplish this, then, with Hashem’s help, we will avoid religious and spiritual fatigue, and not fall victim to the temptation to search for new (and ultimately unfulfilling and transitory) substitutes for mitzvot.
Rosh Hashana is a time of rebirth/renewal/hischadshus. A huge portion of the Rosh Hashana service is dedicated to proclaiming Hashem as Supreme King of the Universe – past, present and future.
May we be privileged in the coming year to feel the excitement of learning His Torah, and serving Hashem with gratitude, with intelligence and with passion.
Nitzavim-Vayeilech
In Moshe’s final address to the nation, he informs them about the future and how they need to face their responsibilities:
ה’ אֱ-לֹ-הֶיךָ הוּא עֹבֵר לְפָנֶיךָ הוּא יַשְׁמִיד אֶת הַגּוֹיִם הָאֵלֶּה
1. As Moshe had demonstrated by, among others, Cheit HaEigel and the Meraglim, Moshe was willing to intercede on their behalf if they erred. His teffilos had halted deadly plagues and prevented their destruction. Fearful that they would err again in the future, they wondered – who would atone for their sins?
2. Bnei Yisrael would be waging wars to conquer Eretz Yisrael, and they worried how they would defeat their enemies without Moshe’s help, with his arms raised high in the air, ensuring victory as he did against Amaleik, and for leading the most recent victories over Sichon and Og…
L’havdil eleph alphei havdalos, Moshe Rabbeinu, always staying true to form as the most humble man to ever live, both comforts and teaches the nation – in his final address – about where everything came from: Hashem.
The same holds true for the battles that were won on the path from Egypt to Eretz Yisrael; Moshe was a conduit, but Hashem was behind everything and delivering our enemies into our hands.
Moshe then says that Yehoshua will now be the one who will fight for them, in both instances, but always know that the source of forgiveness and success is Hashem.
With so much in Parshiot Nitzavim and Vayeilech about teshuva, and the proximity of these parshiot every year to the Yamim Noraim, perhaps a lesson here is about an important focus during this time. Without taking an iota of importance or reverence from rabbeim or the chazzan leading slichot or any of the teffilot on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, ultimately teshuva comes from Hashem. Teshuva cannot be attained only from listening to a good shiur or standing in shul listening to others. Those are incredibly important conduits and bridges to help us get to the proper place to daven for teshuva. A big chunk of our avodah, however, is a focus on our own personal teffilos and the meanings and feelings behind the words we say in davening. Assistance from others is amazing, but there has to be a level of our own effort.
Then in the next passuk Moshe calls to Yehoshua and tells him basically the exact same thing: 31:7-8
A beautiful example of our mesorah in action and of selfless encouragement, is found in virtually identical wording between Dovid HaMelech and Shlomo. Divrei Hayamim I, Perek 32 records Dovid speaking about Hashem prohibiting him from building the Beis HaMikdash. Instead, Shlomo, his son, would have that prestigious honor. Dovid tells his son, in Divrei Hayamim I 28:20:
Looks kinda familiar.