Posts in Category: Divrei Torah

Ki Teitzei

On September 4, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Devarim
One of the many laws present in Parshat Ki Teitzei is Shiluach HaKan – to send away a mother bird before taking the eggs or the young birds from the nest.

This is one of only a few mitzvot where the Torah specifies a reward for the proper observance of the mitzvah, namely, a long life. It is also one of only three such mitzvot that directly promises longevity, the other two being – honoring one’s parents, and using proper weights and measures in business (also found in Ki Teitzei).

Rashi on 22:7, quoting the Sifri, notes that Shiluach HaKan is an “easy” mitzvah to fulfill, and so if such an easy mitzvah gives a person long life, then kal vachomer how great the rewards will be for much more difficult mitzvot. In contrast to the ease of sending away a mother bird, the Gemara in Kiddushin 31a notes the extreme difficulty of properly fulfilling Kibud Av Va’Eim – honoring one’s parents. A lesson suggested from the fact that the same reward is given for such starkly different mitzvot, is that we cannot decide the value of mitzvot and that all are equally important.
Interestingly, there is also something to learn from the similarities shared by these two mitzvot…

In a sicha written by my Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yehuda Amital z”tl, he notes that although there are obvious differences between the two mitzvot, they do share something in common. Most mitzvot demand preparation and planning – plan then execute; other mitzvot pop up unexpectedly. Kibbud Av Va’Eim and Shiluach HaKan share the characteristic of being the latter type.

Shiluach HaKan, as noted by Rashi, is only a mitzvah when you encounter a bird’s nest “along the way”; it has to be unintentionally; “ba’derech”. 
Similarly, although there is an aspect of preparation for the constant obligation to honor one’s parents, often times a parent’s wishes/requests/needs will arise unexpectedly. We have no way of predicting every wish a parent might have (such as, “come for shabbat” or the like, I’m told).

Rav Amital writes that mitzvot like these present us with an opportunity and a challenge – are we (a) going to make an immediate adjustment to an unexpected circumstance, and (b) are we going to do so with excitement to have an opportunity fulfill an unanticipated mitzvah?

The “adjustment” in the case of Shilu’ach HaKan is not particularly demanding, as opposed to the potentially more time-consuming obligations that arise to fulfill a parent’s request, but both demonstrate the importance of always being ready and eager for a chance to perform another mitzvah, making whatever adjustments that might be required.The Torah promises long life to a person who embraces such mitzvot, because it shows a strong love for Hashem and a deep-seeded commitment to fulfilling Torah and mitzvot.

I would like to humbly suggest that there is also a connection between Shiluach HaKan and Amaleik. In both instances, the Torah uses the exact wording of (i) “ba’derech” and (ii) related wording of “yikareh” and “karcha”, indicating coincidence/happenstance – both words sharing the root of  ק.ר.א.

Shiluach HaKan: Devarim 22:6-7
כִּי יִקָּרֵא קַן צִפּוֹר לְפָנֶיךָ בַּדֶּרֶךְ בְּכָל-עֵץ אוֹ עַל-הָאָרֶץ אֶפְרֹחִים אוֹ בֵיצִים, וְהָאֵם רֹבֶצֶת עַל-הָאֶפְרֹחִים אוֹ עַל-הַבֵּיצִים לֹא תִקַּח הָאֵם  עַל הַבָּנִים
שַׁלֵּחַ תְּשַׁלַּח אֶת הָאֵם וְאֶת-הַבָּנִים תִּקַּח-לָךְ לְמַעַן יִיטַב לָךְ וְהַאֲרַכְתָּ יָמִים

 

Amaleik: Devarim 25:17-18

זָכוֹר אֵת אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה לְךָ עֲמָלֵק בַּדֶּרֶךְ בְּצֵאתְכֶם מִמִּצְרָיִם
אֲשֶׁר קָרְךָ בַּדֶּרֶךְ  וַיְזַנֵּב בְּךָ כָּל-הַנֶּחֱשָׁלִים אַחֲרֶיךָ וְאַתָּה  עָיֵף וְיָגֵעַ וְלֹא יָרֵא אֱ-לֹ-הִים

Many meforshim write that Amalek embody “mikreh” – believing the world functions by coincidence, instead of Divine Providence. (see also dvar torah for B’chukotai )

The Torah does use “yikareh” – an unexpected occurrence – as a prerequisite to be able to perform Shiluach HaKan, but clearly Hashem does not want us to think that our ability to do this mitzvah is brought on by pure coincidence. From OUR perspective, coming across a mother bird and her eggs was unexpected, but Hashem decides to put someone in the position to carry out the mitzvah. Unlike Amaleik, who look at everything as coincidence, we are meant to believe that Hashem gives us opportunities to do mitzvot for a reason – to fulfill them and grow from that action, and to do so in an excited and eager way, as noted above.

Some mitzvot, such as Shiluach HaKan and Kibbud Av Va’Eim, present themselves unexpectedly, but perhaps one of the ways we can counter Amalek is that when presented with such mitzvot, we view them as Hashem’s specific and targeted calls to action, and perform them with dedication and zeal.

Shoftim

On September 2, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Devarim
[based in part on divrei torah by Rav Aryeh Lebowitz and Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl]

There is a machlokes in Yevamos daf 4, about whether we are meant to learn anything from the ordering of the Parshiot/subjects in the Torah (doreish smuchim). Even Rav Yehuda, who typically holds that there is no added lesson in the ordering, says that Sefer Devarim is the exception, and that there are lessons to be learned from the way in which Moshe ordered his speech in Sefer Devarim.

What can be learned from the juxtaposition of the descriptions of the Shalosh Regalim at the end of Parshat Re’eh, with the commandment about appointing judges and officers at the beginning of Parshat Shoftim?
Rav Nebenzahl suggested that the juxtaposition teaches us about ensuring the longevity of the religious high and spiritual heights we achieve during the chagim…

The end of Re’eh talks about the halachot, karbanot, and joy associated with aliyah l’regel. Without question, we are supposed to be inspired on these pilgrimages to Yerushalayim. We are supposed to be wrapped up in the moment and the celebration.

But real test, is how/whether we are be affected once the chagim have come to a close. No doubt it was easy to be inspired on the shalosh regalim; seeing the nation gathered together, seeing the avodah in the Beis HaMikdash etc. We know, however, that the chagim are not the only time in the year for religion – Judaism is all day, every day (with varying levels of intensity and ritual service).

When the chagim are over, and we go back to our job or school, are we still acting like someone touched by religious experience?

As part of a related thought, a question is posed about the reasoning behind the name of “Akeidat Yitzchak.” The word ‘akeida’ means ‘binding’. But wasn’t the most impressive part of Yitzchak Avinu’s behavior his messirus nefesh or the fact that he was put on the altar in the first place?  

Why not ״העלעת יצחק״? Why highlight the actual binding, instead of the actual placement on the alter and Yitzchak’s character traits of willingness and devotion that were at the heart of this brave act?

The Shemen Hatov points out that, according to Chazal, Yitzchak asked Avraham to tie him more tightly to the altar, lest he jump up at the last moment, and ruin the sacrificial act.

Yitzchak wasn’t merely caught up in the inspiration he felt while preparing to do Hashem’s will.  He also thought about the next few moments; he thought about ensuring that he wouldn’t lose that inspiration – at the key moment – as his father came toward him with the knife.  At a time of great inspiration, before the climax of the moment, he was preparing a method to ensure that he wouldn’t fail once some of that inspiration began to dissipate. The physical binding was Yitzchak instituting a safeguard to ensure that his dedication to his mission would continue, even after that inspiration might be challenged.

That safeguard is what we celebrate; we celebrate not as much the messirus nefesh moment, but what did he did with that moment. He used that moment to make sure it would be lasting. Forward thinking as to how he would react as time went on.

One possible way to ensure this for ourselves is the commandment of having  שופטים ושוטרים…בכל שעריך

The hope is for us to ensure that we see Hashem and have ambassadors of Torah all of our cities and communities.
It is a communal responsibility and a personal question to be asked: what system/infrastructure do I/we need to put in place to ensure I still feel inspired; what measures/safeguards need to be taken to live in the proper framework; what is ourakeidah?

Perhaps that is why we read the story of the Akeidah on Rosh Hashana – to get us to think, ON Rosh Hashana, specifically during our season of inspiration, about what measures we need to take to ensure the inspiration continues through Yom Kippur and Sukkot and throughout the entire year.

,

Re’eh

On August 22, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Devarim

After Bnei Yisrael are commanded (reminded) not to consume the blood of an animal, Moshe provides a strong incentive to listen:

‘לֹא תֹּאכְלֶנּוּ לְמַעַן יִיטַב לְךָ וּלְבָנֶיךָ אַחֲרֶיךָ כִּי תַעֲשֶׂה הַיָּשָׁר בְּעֵינֵי ה
Do not eat it [blood] so that it may go well with you and with your children after you, when you do that which is right in the eyes of Hashem. (Devarim 12:25)
The Kli Yakar picks up on the specific inclusion of it being good for “your children after you”, by avoiding consumption of blood. He explains that the many commentators learn that consuming blood causes cruelty to develop within the person who consumed it. [One possible source I found for this is the Ohr HaChaim in Vayikra 17:10-11. There, the Torah tell us not to eat the blood of animal because the blood is the soul of the animal. The Ohr HaChaim says that when we eat the soul of animal, so to speak, we become more animalistic, taking on the traits of the animal’s soul. We lose parts of our humanity. The punishment is kareit because we are “cutting off” the human spark and cheilek elokah mi’maal and replacing it with the nefesh ha’behamis.]

The nature of a father (parent), flows into and can get passed down to children. Therefore, the Torah says that avoiding blood will be “good for you and for your children after you” so that the terrible trait of cruelty does not flow from you into future generations.

There only 2 other times in the Torah that the exact language is used of  יִיטַב לְךָ וּלְבָנֶיךָ אַחֲרֶיךָ 
One is in Devarim Perek 4:40 after summing up all the goodness and miracles Hashem performed on behalf of Bnei Yisrael, and the importance to love Hashem and follow His mitzvot. The other, is just 3 psukim after the passuk quoted above in this week’s parsha; immediately after prohibiting the consumption of blood, we are instructed about the correct way to bring sacrifices i.e. bring the sacrifices and sprinke the blood on the alter (instead of consuming it). The summary of the section is, again, לְמַעַן יִיטַב לְךָ וּלְבָנֶיךָ אַחֲרֶיךָ

The full section inside:

‘כה לֹא תֹּאכְלֶנּוּ לְמַעַן יִיטַב לְךָ וּלְבָנֶיךָ אַחֲרֶיךָ כִּי תַעֲשֶׂה הַיָּשָׁר בְּעֵינֵי ה
‘כו רַק קָדָשֶׁיךָ אֲשֶׁר יִהְיוּ לְךָ וּנְדָרֶיךָ תִּשָּׂא וּבָאתָ אֶל הַמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר יִבְחַר ה 
כז וְעָשִׂיתָ עֹלֹתֶיךָ הַבָּשָׂר וְהַדָּם עַל מִזְבַּח ה אֱ-לֹ-הֶיךָ וְדַם זְבָחֶיךָ יִשָּׁפֵךְ עַל מִזְבַּח ה’ אֱ-לֹ-הֶיךָ, וְהַבָּשָׂר תֹּאכֵל
כח שְׁמֹר וְשָׁמַעְתָּ אֵת כָּל הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה אֲשֶׁר אָנֹכִי מְצַוֶּךָּ לְמַעַן יִיטַב לְךָ וּלְבָנֶיךָ אַחֲרֶיךָ עַד עוֹלָם כִּי תַעֲשֶׂה הַטּוֹב וְהַיָּשָׁר בְּעֵינֵי ה’ אֱ-לֹ-הֶיךָ 

Perhaps somewhat allegorically, the Torah is highlighting the importance of the examples that parents set for their children. A parent’s tremendous influence can either have incredibly positive or disastrously negative outcomes. If a parent has cruel traits – whether it be from literally consuming blood (unlikely these days) or simply not keeping his/her anger and emotions in check – then, as the Kli Yakar notes, that can easily, and tragically, be passed down to a child, whether intentionally or not. Assuring that we don’t have such traits will be good for us and for our children

On the flip side, if a parent has the traits of loving Hashem and demonstrating thanks to Hashem for all the good He has provided, then that example will hopefully be seen and emulated by that parent’s children. The root of the Hebrew word for sacrifice – korban – is ק.ר.ב. , which means ‘close/near’. The closeness that a parent strives to achieve with Hashem and cherishes with Hashem, will hopefully be a path adopted by the child, bringing richness and goodness to the parent, child and future generations to come.

Eikev

On August 15, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Devarim

[based on a dvar torah given by Rabbi Aryeh Lebowitz]

In this week’s parsha, we are taught about the the mitzvah that we have come to know as Birkas HaMazon. (see Devarim 8:10)
Also in this week’s parsha, the Medrash Rabba teaches about the bracha of Borei Nefashos. Logically, we would think that if the Midrash wanted to teach us about the bracha to be said after drinking liquids, it would do so in connection with the bracha said after bread.
Instead, the bracha of Borei Nefashos is taught in connection with the following, seemingly unrelated, psukim in Devarim 9:2-3:
שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל אַתָּה עֹבֵר הַיּוֹם אֶת-הַיַּרְדֵּן לָבֹא לָרֶשֶׁת גּוֹיִם גְּדֹלִים וַעֲצֻמִים מִמֶּךָּ עָרִים גְּדֹלֹת וּבְצֻרֹת בַּשָּׁמָיִם
עַם-גָּדוֹל וָרָם בְּנֵי עֲנָקִים אֲשֶׁר אַתָּה יָדַעְתָּ וְאַתָּה שָׁמַעְתָּ מִי יִתְיַצֵּב לִפְנֵי בְּנֵי עֲנָק

Hear, O Israel:you are to pass over the Jordan this day, to go in to dispossess nations greater and mightier than you, cities great and fortified up to the heavens.
A people great and tall, the sons of the Anakim, whom you know, and of whom you have heard others: ‘Who can stand before the sons of Anak?’

Says the Midrash on these psukim:
שמע ישראל אתה עובר היום את הירדן: הלכה אדם מישראל ששותה מים לצמאו אומר ברוך שהכל נהיה בדברו רבי טרפון אמר בורא נפשות רבות וחסרונם

The question is, how does Borei Nefashos relate to Bnei Yisrael’s commandment to enter the land and the tall task (no pun intended) of conquering a land with fortified cities and giants?

Rav Yosef Nechemia Kornitzer ztl (the last pre-war chief rabbi of Krakow) gives a beautiful answer, highlighting the importance of empathy, and the “blessing” of experiencing difficult times: He explains that many times we genuinely want to help another person, but we simply do not know how because we cannot truly relate to another’s situation. If we never struggled with a particular situation or issue, then it becomes difficult to help someone else through that problem.

The text of Borei Nefashos reads:

בורא נפשות רבות וחסרונן, על כל מה שבראת להחיות בהם נפש כל חי, ברוך חי העולמים …

Blessed are You, Hashem, our G-d, King of the universe, Who creates numerous living things with their deficiencies; for all that You have created with which to maintain the life of every being. Blessed is He, the life of the worlds.

We thank Hashem for the chesronos – that which we lack; it’s an odd thing to be thankful for, but we acknowledge that we have times when we feel that we’re uncomfortable or missing something.How does this relate to Eretz Yisrael and kivush Ha’Aretz?

The answer is that the difficulty of acquiring Eretz Yisrael teaches us about how we are to use challenges to help others in the future…
When we look at Eretz Yisrael, we see a place where we feel we belong; a land we ought to be able to call our very own because it was promised to our forefathers. In reality, just as it was in the time of Moshe Rabbeinu and now in our days, there are difficulties, yisurin and nisyonos standing in our way. These challenges are not merely punishments, but they also empower us for the future.
Wherever we find ourselves, we are bound to encounter individuals who have gone through difficult times, who feel they don’t belong, or who feel left out. As a result of us having that shared experience of coming to Eretz Yisrael under tough circumstances, we can use that chisaron to help others who are also having difficulty acquiring what they need or want.
Borei Nefashos is a truly unique bracha, in which we thank Hashem for the fact that sometimes we have to struggle, that then enables us to empathize and help our brothers and sisters in need.

Very often it’s difficult to see or accept this lesson while in the midst of a difficult challenge, but hopefully in hindsight we can see how experiencing a particular hardship empowered us to help others.

This idea reminded me of a Shabbos HaGadol drasha given a few years ago by Rav Moshe Weinberger shlita, in which he said that the “rechush gadol” — the “immense wealth” that Avraham’s descendants would carry out as they left Egypt, as promised by Hashem to Avraham — is our ability to have compassion toward others. Compassion is a key aspect of being a Jew. In fact, the direct commandment for this concept is (not coincidentally) found in this week’s parsha. Devarim 10:19:

וַאֲהַבְתֶּם אֶת הַגֵּר כִּי גֵרִים הֱיִיתֶם בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם
Love your stranger for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.

Hashem made us go through the shibud of Mitzrayim (and all the challenges in the desert and of conquering the Land) so that for the rest of existence we would know compassion. Jews know what it feels like to be alone and downtrodden. It is our job now to treat others experiencing similar feeling with love and kindness.

Va’eschanan

On August 14, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Devarim

[based on a dvar torah given by Rabbi Aryeh Lebowitz]

There is a mnemonic that Chazal created to help us remember when we read certain parshios throughout the year. The mnemonic as quoted in Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim, Siman 428:
פקדו ופסחו, ולמעוברת סגרו ופסחו, מנו ועצרו, צומו וצלו, קומו ותקעו

 
All of the examples in the mnemonic list the Torah portion that comes BEFORE the chag…except for one:
For Tish’a B’Av, it says: צומו וצלו
“Fast and then pray” i.e. Tish’a B’Av (fast) occurs and then we read Parshas Va’eschanan (which is a prayer of Moshe, hence “pray”)
 
Rabbi Lebowitz poses the following 3 questions:
Question 1: Why for 9Av, does Chazal list the “chag”/occasion first and then the Parsha that comes AFTER it? It should say ‘read Devarim and then have 9Av’…


Question 2: Moshe says in Devarim 1:37 that Hashem punished him, by not allowing him to enter Eretz Yisrael, because of Bnei Yisrael’s sin of the Meraglim:
גַּם בִּי הִתְאַנַּף ה’ בִּגְלַלְכֶם לֵאמֹר גַּם אַתָּה לֹא תָבֹא שָׁם

Why is Moshe blaming Bnei Yisrael for being denied entry to the Land; wasn’t he punished because he hit the rock, instead of speaking to it?

Question 3: The Midrash in Meggilas Eicha instructs us to read Devarim 1:12 in the somber tune of Meggilas Eicha. The passuk begins with the word “eicha,” and in it Moshe recounts his feelings that he could no longer bear the burden of the multitude of the people. Other than the word “eichah”, what link is there between this passuk/Parshas Devarim, and 9Av?

To begin, there is certainly a link between Devarim and 9Av: As Rashi explains at the beginning of Devarim, Moshe lists all the places where Bnei Yisrael traveled where something bad happened, to hint to them that they should remember their missteps in that location. Since 9Av is a result of our sins, it is fitting to hear Moshe’s mussar, with regards to our sins, on the Shabbat before 9Av.

Rav Soloveitchik points out further, that the only sin that Moshe expounds upon in detail and explicitly states in the parsha, is Cheit HaMeraglim – the sin occurred on 9Av ,and triggered all future suffering on this day. To understand this, we must recognize the degreeof devestation of the Meraglim. Before the Meraglim, Bnei Yisrael were on a tremendous high, making their way out of slavery, with the Torah in hand, on the way to the Promised Land. Along comes the damaging report of the Meraglim, and Bnei Yisrael plummet drastically. The ultimate and final gift after all Bnei Yisrael endured, and after all miracles Hashem performed, was Eretz Yisrael…and we spit, kaviyachol, in Hashem’s face, by believing the spies’ negative report. 

Cheit HaMeraglim is the culmination of all of Bnei Yisrael’s complaining and all the jabs they took at Moshe by asking ‘why did YOU [Moshe] take us out of Egypt to die in the desert’. It was a lack of emunah that was too much to recover from, and why that generation dies in the desert. Moshe knew it wasn’t him that really took Bnei Yisrael out and was testing them, but after a while it had a tiny effect on him. It is this frustration that causes him to veer ever so slightly from Hashem’s word at Mei Meriva. Moshe hits the rock because he reaches a breaking point precipitated by Cheit HaMeraglim. 

As noted, Cheit HaMeraglim was the first of the major catastrophes to happen on 9Av. According to Megilla 31b, some Tanaaim held that we should read the story of the Meraglim in Parshas Shlach on the morning of 9Av. We, however, follow a different opinion and read from Va’eschanan…
A shift occurred where we went from using 9Av only as a day to remember the bad things in Parshas Devarim, to a day where we also think to the future and pray. 
“Fast and pray,” say Chazal; make sure you pray after you fast. We certainly mourn all the terrible things that happened, but we don’t wallow and abandone hope. We don’t mourn just to mourn, so we can say, ‘woe unto us’. The reason for the fasting is for us feel our distance from Hashem, and use that aching feeling to move closer toward Him. If fasting doesn’t motivate us to pray to move closer to Hashem, then it didn’t fulfill it’s purpose.
The goal is “V’shavta ad Hashem elokecha v’shamata b’kolo”

The Gemara in Ta’anis 30b and Bava Basra 60b, famously states:
כל המתאבל על ירושלים זוכה ורואה בשמחתה
All who mourn over Yerushalayim will merit and will see its simchah
 
We still mourn, because we know that when we mourn, it’s not just about the pain of the past, but also about bringing the joy of the future. The past brings us to our destiny; we glance backward, to eagerly look forward.
Rav Soloveitchik said that because we remember our past, we know how to live in the present, so that we can achieve our future.
 
Part of Chazal’s mnemonic is to inform us what our focus should be on and after 9Av. The past is extremely important; lessons from Devarim must not be discounted. But the parsha that more accurately dictates what our mindset should be on 9Av and during this period, is the parsha after 9Av, namely this week’s parsha of Va’eschana. In it, Moshe wasn’t praying for just anything; in the first few psukim of Va’eschanan he is desperately pleading enter Eretz Yisrael. Bnei Yisrael allowed the spies’ reports to chill this passion and deep love of Eretz Yisrael that should have been blazing inside of them. I believe we are supposed to experience the pain of 9Av, and come out mimicking Moshe’s prayer, yearning to be in our Homeland with the Beis HaMikdash.
 
Our goal on 9Av and going forward is not self-loathing. Instead, we take the lessons of the past, to pray for the future and merit:
כל המתאבל על ירושלים זוכה ורואה בשמחתה

 

Devarim

On August 1, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Devarim

Sefer Devarim – the book of Moshe’s speeches (literally meaning the “book of words”) – opens:

אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר מֹשֶׁה אֶל-כָּל-יִשְׂרָאֵל

The Midrash Tanchuma asks how it is that Moshe went from being a man in Sefer Shmos of few words, who could barely speak, to a man of many words, and an orator of such eloquence…how did he get from לֹא אִישׁ דְּבָרִים אָנֹכִי  to  אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים ?

The Midrash Rabbah, quotes Mishlei 15:4 to help answer this question: Marpeh lashon eitz chaim = “The one that heals the tongue is the tree of life.” 

The “tree of life” in this passuk is Torah, and so the the Torah represents the power to improve and direct our speech toward something great. Indeed the Torah is meant to teach us a romantic language – one between man and Hashem and one between man and man. Hashem’s words give us the capacity to make a meaningful life, for ourselves and those that hear the words we produce.
Among the many proofs of how Torah is supposed to effect our speech, Dovid HaMelech writes in Tehillim 119:97:
מָה אָהַבְתִּי תוֹרָתֶךָ כָּל הַיּוֹם הִיא שִׂיחָתִי

How do we fulfill this goal of having our entire day filled with words of Torah? If we’re not sitting and learning the entire day, how can we make Torah our day-long conversation? 

By using the unique power of speech humans were granted to speak and conduct ourselves properly. It is this overwhelming importance of speech that makes Lashon HaRa such a grave offense, and why abuse of speech brought the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash. The Gemara in Erachin 15b quotes Tehillim, which says: Hachaim vehamavet beyad halashon, “Life and death are in the hands of the tongue.” The Gemara discusses why the expression “in the hands” is used. Beyad means “dependent on,” but it is unusual that the verse uses another part of the body for this expression – the toungue obviously does not have hands. 
The Gemara explains that the verse uses this particular phraseology in order to juxtapose the hand with the tongue: “ma yad meimita, af lashon meimita” =  “in the same way that a hand can kill, so too the tongue can kill.” Words from the tongue are just as capable – in fact more capable – of inflicting physical harm as the hand.

These ideas came to mind not only with Tish’a B’Av around the corner, but also because Daniella’s matzeivah was recently erected, and on it is the perfectly fitting passuk of:
מָה אָהַבְתִּי תוֹרָתֶךָ כָּל הַיּוֹם הִיא שִׂיחָתִי 

This passuk was chosen for Daniella’s kever and so magnificently encapsulates Daniella’s way of approaching her day and the world – always speaking and interacting in the ways of Torah, with kind words and no judgments.

(A picture of Daniella’s matzeivah can be viewed here: http://inmemoryofdaniella.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Daniella-Kever.jpg )

Finally, Rav Ozer Glickman shlita writes on the original question posed about Moshe’s “transformation”, that the Rambam in the beginning of Hilchos Teffila explains that the liturgy chosen was the response to the dispersion of Jews throughout the world, and the lost ability to express themselves in a single, unified language. We lost our ability to articulate our praise and affection for Hashem and our requests of Him, on a personal and communal level. (Please G-d, our unified teffila, particularly of matir asurim, should be answered for the IDF soldier captured this morning: Hadar ben Chedvah Leah)

The more Torah and Torah values we study and personify, the more significance our prayers will have. Just as a person cannot pick up a musical instrument and produce beautiful music without  practice, and just as Moshe needed Torah and closeness to Hashem to learn to produce the beautiful words of Sefer Devarim, so too is Torah the key to our refined speech and d’veikus, both with Hashem and our fellow man.

Masei

On July 24, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Bamidbar

In the Haftara for the second Shabbat of Bein HaMeitzarim (Masei, this year) we read from Sefer Yirmiyahu. 2:13 states:

 כִּי שְׁתַּיִם רָעוֹת עָשָׂה עַמִּי אֹתִי עָזְבוּ מְקוֹר מַיִם חַיִּים לַחְצֹב לָהֶם בֹּארוֹת–בֹּארֹת נִשְׁבָּרִים אֲשֶׁר לֹא-יָכִלוּ הַמָּיִם
“For My nation has committed two evils: they have forsaken Me, a source of flowing water, to dig for themselves cisterns – broken cisterns that cannot contain water.” 

Acting as a conduit of Hashem’s words, Yirmiyahu tells Bnei Yisrael that not only have they abandoned Hashem, but they have done so in favor of “broken cisterns” — foreign nations and empty beliefs that offer no meaning, benefit or security.

Rav Mendel Hirsch (son of Rav Shimshon Rephael), in his commentary on the Haftarot, points out that the Hebrew word used for “cisterns” is borot – a term typically meaning “pits,” such as in Breishis 37:24, when Yosef’s brother throw him in a pit:  וְהַבּוֹר רֵק אֵין בּוֹ מָיִם  
The word here, however, is spelled with a silent letter Alef, as if it were to read as be’eirot, or “wells.”  

Rav Hirsch suggests that this spelling accurately reflects Am Yisrael’s misguided perspective, decried by Yirmiyahu.  A bor/pit is an empty, vacuous hole in the ground. A be’eir, by contrast, is a hole that contains something of value and substance, namely water. Yirmiyahu is bemoaning the fact that Bnei Yisrael tragically looked upon borot – worthless, hollow beliefs – as be’eirot – things of substance and meaning. The word borot is spelled in such a way that it externally resembles the word be’eirot, alluding to the misplaced perception of value and significance that attracted Bnei Yisrael to people and ideas that were actually vacuous and valueless.

During the Three Weeks, it is particularly important to distinguish between those things that may be attractive but have little value, and those that have true meaning and help us draw closer to Hashem and the ultimate Geulah. The value assigned by society or pop culture to what are essentially empty borot, can often give the deceptive appearance of being be’eirot. It is during this difficult, painful and introspective time of Bein HaMeitzarim, that we have the opportunity to correct our ways, and appreciate the value, dedicate the time and carefully distinguish between borot and be’eirot; between that which is empty and worthless, and that which is meaningful and precious.

I would like to humbly suggest a connection between be’eirot, geulah and Miriam HaNeviah:

Rav Yossi bar Yehuda, in Ta’anis 9a, says that the gift of the “traveling” well that Bnei Yisrael were afforded in the desert, was in the merit of Miriam. What was it about Miriam’s life or actions that precipitated this miracle? Although the Torah does not provide lengthy narratives about Miriam’s life, we find her at two extremely pivotal moments, both connected to water:

Once, as a watchful sister, standing at the edge of Nile, as her baby brother – the future savior of Am Yisrael – tosses along the river in a basket, eventually safely arriving at the feet of Paraoh’s daughter. Shmos 2:4:  וַתֵּתַצַּב אֲחֹתוֹ מֵרָחֹק
A second time, it is Miriam who rouses the nation into songs of gratitude and joy to Hashem after the harrowing experience of the Egyptians chasing after Bnei Yisrael, but making it safely through the parted waters to safety.
Rav Baruch Simon, in ma’amar 7 on Parshas B’haaloscha in his sefer Imrei Baruch, quotes a Midrash on Mishlei, which says that the passuk in 31:17 of Mishlei refers to Miriam. We may better know this passuk as the 8th verse in Aishes Chayil:
חָגְרָה בְעוֹז מָתְנֶיהָ וַתְּאַמֵּץ זְרוֹעֹתֶיהָ

She girds her loins with strength, and makes strong her arms.

This passuk is about sticking to your beliefs and emunah. Miriam epitomizes emunah; she stood by the Nile and believed that, although nothing about the laws of nature would dictate that a baby floating on the Nile toward Paraoh’s palace could not only survive but become the savior of the Jewish people, there was still every reason to have hope, and have confidence in the prophecy she was given – that her mother would give birth to a son who would be the moshia of Bnei Yisrael. She also arranges for Yocheved, Moshe’s natural birth mother, to nurse him — again securing Moshe’s survival (see Shmos 2:7-9). She was mitzapeh l’yeshua.

After Krias Yam Suf — i.e. looming waters that once stood between their enemies and their freedom — Miriam bursts forward in song and praise, rejoicing that those who enslaved her people were vanquished, and they were now on the path to receive the Torah and enter Eretz Yisrael.

Like a cool, refreshing water revives an anxious and parched traveler, Miriam buoys Bnei Yisrael’s waning spirits with her unwavering emunah.
Thousands of years of waiting for the geula – suffering through pogroms, attempted genocide, ongoing battles for our tiny homeland, and excruciating loss – can, G-d forbid, cause us to lose our way, seek comfort in emptiness, and relinquish hope. We are implored in this week’s Haftorah, not to do so. We are reminded that the be’eir of Miriam was a reward for her deep-seeded emunah. Instead of becoming depressed, overtaken or distracted by what was happening around her, she “kept the faith.”

Perhaps symbolically, when one is in need of water and digs a hole in the ground, there is no promise that water will be discovered. Sometimes there is nothing but dirt and an empty hole. Sometimes we finally discover wells, but they get sabotaged by Plishtim (as Yitzchak Avinu encountered in Breishis 26:15-33. Parenthetically, Yitzchak establishes Be’er Sheva at the end of this section, and so: Sometimes you set up cities named after wells “ad hayom hazeh,” and it is the target of constant missile attacks…).

But instead of losing hope, or filling that figurative hole or disappointing void in one’s life with other empty beliefs or objects, we are to follow in Miriam HaNeviah’s footsteps and continue searching for a be’eir of water, for mayim chayim (Torah), in song and dance, and ultimately merit Yishayahu’s prophecy:

וּשְׁאַבְתֶּם מַיִם בְּשָׂשׂוֹן מִמַּעַיְנֵי הַיְשׁוּעָה

Mattos

On July 18, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Bamidbar

[based in part on a dvar torah written by R’ David Silverberg on the VBM]

Parshat Matos describes the war Bnei Yisrael waged against Midyan after the incident of Ba’al Pe’or, as recorded at the end of Parshat Balak. Upon the soldiers’ return from their successful campaign, a group of generals approach Moshe, bringing an offering from the spoils of war. They say to Moshe (Bamidbar 31:49):
וַיֹּאמְרוּ אֶל מֹשֶׁה עֲבָדֶיךָ נָשְׂאוּ אֶת רֹאשׁ אַנְשֵׁי הַמִּלְחָמָה אֲשֶׁר בְּיָדֵנוּ וְלֹא נִפְקַד מִמֶּנּוּ אִישׁ

Your servants took a count of the men of war that were with us, and not a man has been lost.

The Midrash in Shir HaShirim 4:3 suggests a homiletic approach to the verse, which does not speak to the physical survival of all the troops, rather their spiritual success during the operation. “Not a man has been lost” means that no man was spiritually lost; that all the soldiers maintained and practiced the proper belief in Hashem on the battlefield.
The proof provided by the generals, according to the Midrash, is that “not one of [the soldiers] gave precedence to the tefillin shel rosh over the tefillin shel yad.” As is our tradition remains to this day, one must bind the tefillin of the arm, before affixing the tefillin of the head. According to the Midrash, the generals proudly attested to their soldiers’ strict compliance with this law.

Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson, in his Divrei Shaul, explains this Midrash by suggesting a symbolic meaning behind the tefillin shel yad and tefillin shel rosh. Chazal comment that one must wear the tefillin shel yad on “yad keiha” = the weaker arm. The Divrei Shaul suggests that the tefillin shel yad thus symbolizes the “weakness” of the human hand — the notion that our efforts are only as successful as Hashem sees fit. The tefillin shel rosh, by contrast, are a symbol of grandeur and nobility. Some sources even speak of tefillin shel rosh as a crown on our heads.

Putting teffilin on in the proper order, expresses the belief that we are too “weak” and too limited to achieve majestic heights without the help of the King of Kings. We acknowledge the inherent limits of our “arm,” our strength and our efforts. Only once we have done this, can we hope to achieve the crown of honor. The binding of the teffilin on our arm is the binding of our need for Hashem’s assistance with the efforts of our “arms” and with the toil of our hands.

[I believe this fits well with the parshiot in our teffilin, which are so closely connected with the concept of being Hashem’s firstborn, and what that meant during Makat Bechorot and Yetziat Mitzrayim. The only active role we played in Makat Bechorot was putting blood on the doorpost. We demonstrated that we were willing to make the efforts demanded of us, but of course only Hashem would decide which firstborns to kill and which to leave unharmed. We bind ourselves to Hashem, and He binds Himself back to us. As the Gemara in Brachos tells us, that in Hashem’s teffilin the parshiot read:

מי כעמך ישראל גוי אחד בארץ

We acknowledge His power and try to emulate Him, and He will empower us.]

The generals reported to Moshe that the battle against Midyan was a success because the soldiers understood the message of yad keiha — the weak arm that characterizes human effort in the absence of divine support. As a result, they achieved victory, rooted out the cause of their sins, and once again donned the crown of Hashem.

I write this to myself, as a reminder, that every time I am wowed by, please G-d, the continued success of Iron Dome and the efforts of Tzahal, that it is Hashem squarely behind everything, protecting us from those that are intent on our destruction. As a new phase of the ongoing battle in Israel puts our soldiers in more dire straits – Hashem yishmor – it is the hope that the day is soon upon us when we can say, “lo nifkad mimenu ish,” when Am Yisrael defeats its enemies without losing a single member of achienu kol Beis Yisrael, and we intensely feel the “hand” of Hashem and the “zeroah netuya” protecting us and guiding our physical and spiritual efforts.

Pinchas

On July 10, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Bamidbar
[based in part on a shiur by Rav Moshe Taragin]

In the middle of Parshat Pinchas, the text momentarily transports us back to a story from 3 weeks ago, namely that of Korach and his rebellion.

Bamidbar 26:9-11
‘ט:  וּבְנֵי אֱלִיאָב נְמוּאֵל וְדָתָן וַאֲבִירָם הוּא-דָתָן וַאֲבִירָם קרואי (קְרִיאֵי) הָעֵדָה אֲשֶׁר הִצּוּ עַל-מֹשֶׁה וְעַל-אַהֲרֹן בַּעֲדַת-קֹרַח בְּהַצֹּתָם עַל ה
י:  וַתִּפְתַּח הָאָרֶץ אֶת-פִּיהָ וַתִּבְלַע אֹתָם וְאֶת-קֹרַח–בְּמוֹת הָעֵדָה בַּאֲכֹל הָאֵשׁ אֵת חֲמִשִּׁים וּמָאתַיִם אִישׁ וַיִּהְיוּ, לְנֵס
יא:  וּבְנֵי-קֹרַח לֹא-מֵתוּ

In the middle of the census, while enumerating the families of Shevet Levi, the Torah reminds us of Korach’s revolt, and mentions that Korach’s sons did not die along with their father and his cohorts.

The Gemara in Sanhedrin 110a says that as Korach’s sons were about to fall into Gehinom, a piece of earth jutted out, caught them, and there they said shira:
ובני קרח לא מתו תנא משום רבינו אמרו מקום נתבצר להם בגיהנם וישבו עליו ואמרו שירה
Chazal interpret shira to mean that they authored/sang perakim in Tehillim.

The Maharsha in his Chidushei Aggadot says that they sang Tehillim 88:

It is a very harsh introspection, and represents perhaps the more classic idea of teshuva; we are in a downward spiral, we have been bad, all hope is lost, we cry out to Hashem for help and mercy.

The Zohar, on the other hand, says that they sang Tehillim 48 – otherwise known as the Shir shel Yom we say every Monday.
At first glance, it appears to be a strange song for Korach’s sons to sing, if their goal was teshuva. It describes the beauty of Yerushalayim, joining together and celebrating, mentioning kings from other nations trembling at the sight of Yerushalayim — this is a starkly different tone than Perek 88. What sort of teshuva is Perek 48??

Rav Taragin suggests that there are (at least) two types of teshuva:
One type is looking very insular, recognizing our wrongdoing and shortcomings of our actions and desires. We acknowledge our human frailties and reach out to Hashem to save us.

A second type of teshuva comes from connecting to the idea of geula and the larger community. The Midrash says that all of Bnei Yisrael’s sins were atoned for at Yam Suf through the singing of Az Yashir. But there are no passages in that shira about any admission of wrongdoing. Rather, the shira is an enthusiastic expression of geula – coming together as a nation to praise Hashem and bursting forth with excitement about entering Eretz Yisrael.

Teshuva isn’t only about retracting inward, but also about expanding our imagination and connecting to something larger than ourselves; joining a larger narrative (in song, at times), stripping away ego and replacing it with selflessness for the betterment of the Jewish people.

Korach and his followers felt they got passed over for leadership positions. As anyone is prone to fall victim to, they got wrapped up in their own personal aspirations, and forgot about the larger arc and national trajectory; they lost sense of the idea of going to Eretz Yisrael to set up a Mikdash; they “forgot” that Hashem knows what He’s doing, and finds the right leaders to carry out His will.

Teshuva requires both (i) moral/personal inventory, and (ii) communal/outward consciousness and sensitivity.

According to the Zohar, the sons of Korach chose the second voice, looked to the holiest place in the world, and eventually merited the ability to serve there as Leviim.
This may be a stretch, but perhaps Perek 48 of Tehillim, in addition to being a form of teshuva for Adat Korach, also addresses and tries to serve as a tikkun for the sin of the Meraglim: Instead of having faith that the land Hashem promised to us could indeed be acquired, the Meraglim were consumed by fear.

The stories are linked in that Adat Korach and the Meraglim both doubted Hashem’s decisions. Korach doubted Hashem’s choice and allocation of leadership, and the Meraglim doubted Hashem’s choice of a proper land. The lack of perspective of the Mergalim, in not remembering Eretz Yisrael’s intrinsic holiness and the promise that Hashem would deliver us there to serve Him, is another kind of example of neglecting the larger arc and trajectory, discussed above. They couldn’t get past their own fears, and the importance and beauty of the Land was lost in their eyes…

The Mergalim’s report includes the word רָאִינוּ three times in reference to the frightening sights that they encountered on their excursion. (Bamidbar 13: 28, 32, 33)

In Tehillim 48, a form of the word רָאה and the same word of רָאִינוּ is used, but the roles and perspectives are reversed:
כִּי הִנֵּה הַמְּלָכִים נוֹעֲדוּ עָבְרוּ יַחְדָּו הֵמָּה רָאוֹ כֵּן תָּמָהוּ נִבְהֲלוּ נֶחְפָּזוּ
Here, the kings of the other nations see Yerushalayim and THEY are the ones trembling with fear.
And finally, the view of what is being “seen” by us, produces an entirely different result:
כַּאֲשֶׁר שָׁמַעְנוּ כֵּן רָאִינוּ בְּעִיר ה’ צְבָאוֹת — the authors of this perek now see clearly the splendor of the land, instead of the shortcomings – that is the tikkun of the Meraglim. We are no longer “like grasshoppers” as the Meraglim described themselves to be, rather we are rejoicing in Yerushalayim’s towers and palaces (סֹבּוּ צִיּוֹן וְהַקִּיפוּהָ סִפְרוּ מִגְדָּלֶיהָ שִׁיתוּ לִבְּכֶם לְחֵילָה פַּסְּגוּ אַרְמְנוֹתֶיהָ) and reveling in Hashem’s enduring strength.

 

Balak

On July 7, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Bamidbar

 

In the introduction to his third blessing to Bnei Yisrael, Bilaam describes himself as a “shetum ha-ayin” (24:3).
The Ramban notes that there is no similar word to “shetum” in the entire Tanach.
Among the explanations given for this term, as noted by Rashi, is that Bilaam only had one eye. The other eye was a just the socket. The word “shetum” means “open,” and thus when Bilaam describes himself, he is referring to his open eye socket, that has no eye in it, leaving him with one working eye.

Symbolically, as many scholars have noted, the notion of Bilaam having only one functioning eye is significant. When looking at a person, we are capable of using two different “eyes” – a critical eye, and a complimentary eye: One eye looks suspiciously, cynically and judgmentally, searching to find fault. The other eye looks in a far more positive and accepting manner, focusing on the good in a person, generally holding people in a favorable light. Both “eyes” are important for us to properly relate to the world around us. Certainly, we must judge favorably and highlight the positive aspects in people, but we also need the critical eye to be discerning, so we can distinguish for ourselves between proper and improper, and between good and evil.

Bilaam, however, saw with only one eye – the eye that looks critically and sees the evil in everything.
The Mishna in Avot 5:19 distinguishes between the “ayin tova” of Avraham and the “ayin ra’a” of Bilaam. Avraham graciously welcomed and fed three desert travelers whom he had mistaken for idolaters, and he prayed fervently on behalf of the sinful city of Sedom. He looked at the world mainly with his ayin tova.
Bilaam, by contrast, searched for Bnei Yisrael’s weaknesses and negative traits. The Gemara in Brachot 7a comments that Bilaam knew the precise second of the day when Hashem’s anger is aroused (“ki rega b’apo”). Bilaam had a knack for prosecution; finding fault in people and incriminating them. He thought he could make Hashem focus on all Bnei Yisrael’s negative episodes on their journey from Egypt, and “convince” Hashem to allow them to be destroyed.
Bilaam closed or didn’t have the “eye” that saw the goodness in people, and looked only with the “eye” that found fault.

Hashem steps in and reverses Bilaam’s tendency, and instead Bilaam ends up give blessings to Bnei Yisrael instead of the curses for which he was hired. In introducing his first blessing, Bilaam proclaims (23:8-9):
‘מָה אֶקֹּב לֹא קַבֹּה אֵ-ל וּמָה אֶזְעֹם לֹא זָעַם ה
כִּי מֵרֹאשׁ צֻרִים אֶרְאֶנּוּ וּמִגְּבָעוֹת אֲשׁוּרֶנּוּ הֶן עָם לְבָדָד יִשְׁכֹּן וּבַגּוֹיִם לֹא יִתְחַשָּׁב

“How can I curse whom G-od has not cursed, how can I doom when the Lord has not doomed?
For I see them from the top of cliffs, and from the hills I look out upon them…”

When we look at people “from the top of cliffs,” from afar, we have a much different perspective than from up close. Looking from up close means that we think we can pass judgment because we’ve accurately scrutinized their every move. In truth, only Hashem can do that, and that is His job alone. We can’t know where people are coming from, their background, motivations, why they do what they do, etc. Only Hashem is bochein klayos valeiv.

We we look from the top of cliffs, we are working to appreciate the admirable qualities of a person. I think that looking from afar – “from the hills” – involves 2 types of mindsets: One is about how we are to look at others — from afar, without harsh scrutinization. The second is how we are to regard our own limited abilities in evaluating others — realizing that no matter how we look at a person, it will always be from a limited perspective.

Looking with an ayin tova requires us to step back and assess our peers “from the hills,” and from this perspective we can more easily appreciate and admire their fine attributes.

Finally, Rashi (quoting the Medrash Tanchuma) on the above passuk says that Bilaam “looked” at Bnei Yisrael from their beginnings / from their roots, and saw their strength like the rocks and hills; the strength they received from the Avos and Imahos.
אני מסתכל בראשיתם ובתחלת שרשיהם, ואני רואה אותם מיוסדים וחזקים כצורים וגבעות הללו ע”י אבות ואמהות

Looking with two eyes gives you depth. Gives you perspective.
How we are supposed to look at acheinu kol Beis Yisrael? All as fellow descendants of the Avos and Imahos.

Perhaps one of the most talked about messages, in the wake of the horrible tragedy that befell klal Yisrael this past week, is the importance of achdus – unity when we fervently prayed and hoped together that our boys would return safely, and unity when we had to cry and comfort each other when our worst fears became reality; tens of thousands of people at the funeral of Gilad, Naftali, and Eyal A”H, and millions of Jews from all different walks of life praying and mourning together.
Hopefully, this lesson from Bilaam, of all people – to look at others with a kind eye and look at one another as all part of the same rich lineage – is something that can resonate not only through this horrific tragedy but going forward, throughout our modern day journey which Hashem is unfolding before us.