Posts in Category: Divrei Torah

Terumah

On January 30, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Shmos

[Based on a combination of ma’amarim from the sefer, Imrei Baruch: Terumah, ma’amarim ה and ז ]

One of many lessons that can be learned from the Kruvim, described in this week’s Parsha, is the importance of respecting differing method of avodas Hashem.
As an intro, there is a relevant question asked by Rav Yaakov Kaminetsky zt”l: Why was the institution of the flags for each tribe, described in detail in Parshat Bamidbar, not incorporated until the second year from when BNY left Egypt?

He answers, that the unique tribal flags could only exist properly after the Mishkan was erected. Each shevet had its own way of serving Hashem. The Ramban explains that the reason the Torah lists out every Nasi from every shevet and the korban each one brought for the Channukat HaMizbeach, despite the fact that all the korbanot for each Nasi were exactly the same in form, is because each one had a slightly differentkavana when they brought the korban. For example, the Nasi of Yehuda had kavanaregarding kingship; Yissachar for Torah study; Zevulun for commerce, etc.  Each tribe served Hashem in different ways and using different skills and traits.

Hashem knew that it would be dangerous to divide the tribes under different flags/colors before a centralized symbol of service of Hashem was established. And along came the Mishkan to fill that role, in Nissan of the second year. Before the Mishkan, a brand new nation, partitioned under 12 different flags could easily slip into quarreling and fighting over which shevet’s method, motto or style was the correct way of serving Hashem. Once the Mishkan was in place, however – serving as a reminder to every member of every shevet that the key to how they lived was to follow the word of Hashem and serve Him – then it was safe for the shvatim to begin identifying themselves by their own unique style. They could do this while always keeping in mind the broad national responsibility and loyalty. Symbolic of this equality, is the fact that the tribes set up their flags in a circle around the Mishkan, with no preferential treatment.

Two features of the Kruvim demonstrate this idea of the importance of respecting methods of avodas Hashem that may differ from our personal style:

1. The Kruvim faced each other: Shmot 25:20 says:

וְהָיוּ הַכְּרֻבִים פֹּרְשֵׂי כְנָפַיִם לְמַעְלָה סֹכְכִים בְּכַנְפֵיהֶם עַל-הַכַּפֹּרֶת
וּפְנֵיהֶם אִישׁ אֶל-אָחִיו אֶל הַכַּפֹּרֶת יִהְיוּ פְּנֵי הַכְּרֻבִים

And the cherubim shall spread out their wings on high, screening the ark-cover with their wings, with their faces one to another; toward the ark-cover shall the faces of the cherubim be.

Facing each other is a sign of respect, and acknowledgment that each person canlearn from the other. Furthermore, the Kruvim were placed in the Kodesh HaKedashim,which was covered with the skins of very special animals: Shmot 26:14:
עֹרֹת תְּחָשִׁים מִלְמָעְלָה

Rashi explains that the techash was a type of animal that only existed during the time of the Mishkan, and its skin was full of many colors. The colorful skin of the techashsignifies the many ways one can properly serve Hashem.

2. The Kruvim had the faces of children: a sign of innocence, free of any concept of competition, grandeur or entitlement.

…So how can we achieve this level of respect for our fellow Jews and ovdei Hashem? One suggestion is to follow the famous maxim in Pirkei Avos 1:6: “Yehoshua ben Perachya omer – Asei lecha Rav v’kanei lecha chaveir. V’havei dan et kol adam l’kaf zechut.”

What is the connection between (i) getting for yourself a Rav and a friend, and (ii) giving people the benefit of the doubt?
If you don’t give people the benefit of the doubt, then you’ll think that person is acting improperly and want to divorce yourself from them. There may be times that your Rav or your friend is doing something that doesn’t seem correct. In fact, there are times when they may actually be incorrect. But don’t think that your friend has to always be perfect, or that they must do exactly as you do in order to be worthy of your respect.  Don’t think that we are in a place to judge.  Rabbi Sacks, in his Letters to the Next Generation, writes, Be very slow indeed to judge others. If they are wrong, G-d will judge them. If we are wrong, G-d will judge us…Always seek out the friendship of those who are strong where you are weak. None of us has all the virtues. Even a Moses needed an Aaron. The work of a team, a partnership, a collaboration with others who have different gifts or different ways of looking at things, is always greater than any one individual can achieve alone… The righteous see the good in people; the self-righteous see the bad.”

If there is mutual respect among us, then we put ourselves in the greatest position to learn and grow from one another.

—————————————————

[Based on a shiur given by Rav Moshe Taragin]

One of the most famous psukim about the Torah is found in Parshat V’zot Ha’bracha:
Devarim 33:4:

תּוֹרָה צִוָּה לָנוּ מֹשֶׁה מוֹרָשָׁה קְהִלַּת יַעֲקֹב

Pretty straightforward concept that Hahsem commanded the Torah to Moshe. The ambiguous word is morasha — what exactly does that mean and why is Torah described in that way?

Morasha is usually translated as inheritance, legacy, province.

This passuk, written at the very end of the Torah, is discussed in detail in Medrash Rabbah in Terumah.
To give some context to the discussion of this passuk from another parsha within Parshat Terumah, it is important to note that Parshat Terumah is actually chronologically out of order, and to highlight why that might be: The collection for the Mishkan was a kaparah for the Eigel HaZahav. This atonement is therefore done afterthe Eigel in Parshat Ki Tissa. So Terumah is juxtaposed to Matan Torah for a reason…

The Ramban explains that building the Mishkan and the concept of the everyday rituals is a continuation of Har Sinai. We transition from grandiose experience of Sinai to the everyday observance of Halacha. Religion is not all fireworks and dramatic revelations.

So the Torah puts Terumah and the Mishkan here, right after Yitro and Mishpatim, to teach us about the different roles of Torah – the grand and the everyday.

Chazal, therefore, use this opportunity to invoke Torah tziva lanu Moshe, and teach us about another characteristic (or two) about the nature of Torah…

The Midrash says: Al tikri morasha, elah me’orasah =
Our relationship to Torah and Hashem is a marriage. The concept of a romantic, martial relationship with Torah and Hashem is found in many places.
In the same exact Midrash, it says on our passuk: “Al tikri morasha elah yerusha“…

So which one is it? Is Torah an inheritance or a marriage??
If anything, the concepts of an inheritance and a marriage are in opposition to one another – one is handed to you (unless you’re into the prearranged marriage thing, in which case both are handed to you); the other is a romantic pursuit, full of excitement and initiative!?!

The answer is that Torah encapsulates both. The Torah has been handed down to us (yerusha), but we also each find our own passionate chelek in Torah.

Speaking to the yerusha aspect: Part of religion is the wisdom to accept certain truths. We can’t self-intuit everything. We can’t say: I only believe in what I can rationally prove. Some things are handed down, and, as G-d fearing and believing Jews, we simply accept as true. To quote Rabbi Sacks, “faith is not a certainty; it is the courage to live with uncertainty.”
There is nothing intellectually weak or lacking by adhering to the concept that we cant know or prove everything.

Of course there is a tremendous amount of intellect and introspection demanded in Judaism as well – and that is the romantic piece; finding personal ways the Torah speaks to us, hopefully every day of our lives.

“Reishis chochmah yiras Hashem” – To be pious, you need to be intelligent; and to be intelligent you have to be wise enough to understand the limits of human intellect. That is the dual nature of our religion.

To further elaborate on the yerusha aspect, the Midrash brings a parable of a prince who is captured at a young age, and raised by barbarians. He returns to his kingdom after many years and isn’t shy about staking a claim to his rightful throne. The words in the Midrash are: “L’yerushas avosai ani chozeir” – I am returning to the inheritance of my forefathers.

The nimshal is that no matter how far you wander, you can come back and not be embarrassed. It is yours and you can always return.

Inheritance and romance are both necessary aspects of Torah and religion. The message to the most religious and least affiliated Jew is the same: recognize that you are grounded in Torah with a chelek elokah mima’al (“neshama sheh’nattata bi tehora hee” as we say every morning), and no matter how far we wander or how often we stumble, we cannot lose that anchoring.

Shabbat Shalom and a Gut Rosh Chodesh Adar.

,

Mishpatim

On January 18, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Shmos
[Based on a dvar torah written by R’ David Silverberg]

The Shalosh Regalim – Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot – have at least two main significant aspects.

Perhaps the more dramatic and exciting aspect of these festivals are their respective historical significance: Yetziat Mitzrayim, Matan Torah, and the miraculous journey through the wilderness under the protection of the Annanei HaKavod.
These three holidays, however, also mark the three basic agricultural periods of the solar year in Eretz Yisrael: Pesach marks the beginning of Spring, and thus the beginning of the harvest; Shavuot occurs when the harvest of the first fruits is completed; and Sukkot celebrates the completion of the entire harvest.
Parshat Mishpatim focuse on the agricultural element. Shmot 23:14-16
:יד:  שָׁלֹשׁ רְגָלִים, תָּחֹג לִי בַּשָּׁנָה
:טו:  אֶת חַג הַמַּצּוֹת תִּשְׁמֹר שִׁבְעַת יָמִים תֹּאכַל מַצּוֹת כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוִּיתִךָ לְמוֹעֵד חֹדֶשׁ הָאָבִיב, כִּי בוֹ יָצָאתָ מִמִּצְרָיִם וְלֹא יֵרָאוּ פָנַי רֵיקָם
:טז:  וְחַג הַקָּצִיר בִּכּוּרֵי מַעֲשֶׂיךָ אֲשֶׁר תִּזְרַע בַּשָּׂדֶה וְחַג הָאָסִף בְּצֵאת הַשָּׁנָה בְּאָסְפְּךָ אֶת מַעֲשֶׂיךָ מִן הַשָּׂדֶה

These two components – the historical and the agricultural – do not necessarily constitute two independent lessons; the two are very much related, as each sheds light upon the other.

Specifically, the seasonal progression from Pesach to Shavuot symbolizes the historical progression from the Yetziat Mitzrayim to Matan Torah. Pesach is the holiday of springtime; the harsh winter conditions begin to subside, flowers begin to blossom, the ground once again becomes suitable for vegetation. These external conditions, however, only begin the process whose significance ultimately comes to fruition – literally – with the arrival of Shavuot – the first harvest. The springtime, while beautiful, is only the very beginning of the results it will ultimately produce several months later.

Similarly, some suggest, that Pesach signifies the beauty and splendor of Am Yisrael. In essence, it commemorates the birth of Jewish nationalism and pride, our singularity and ascent as “b’ni bechori Yisrael”. However, this pride lacks an anchoring to something significant when considered in the absence of Shavuot – the giving of the Torah. Just as Spring marks the beginning of a development that only culminates with the first harvest, so does Pesach trigger a progression that culminates with Hashem’s revelation on Har Sinai seven weeks later. Just as flowers that don’t bear fruit are merely attractive to the eye, but lack substantive significance, so does our sense of nationalism lose much of its meaning without our acceptance of the Torah. We didn’t leave Egypt to wander indefinitely; we left so that we could accept the Torah and become Avdei Hashem.

There is tremendous unrealized potential in identifying solely with the status and freedom afforded to us through the story of the Exodus, without committing ourselves to the obligations and demands of Matan Torah. If we only gaze upon the beautiful flowers of Springtime – the elevated stature of Am Yisrael as represented by Pesach, but fail to reap the harvest of Summertime – to submit ourselves to the demands of a Torah lifestyle, as we were commanded on Shavuot (and to the detailed laws contained in Mishpatim), then we fall tragically short of Hashem’s expectations for His Chosen Nation. One of the main themes of Pesach is Hashem establishing Himself to the world as Creator and Sustainer. We channel Hashem’s message, through our learning and observance of the mitzvot, and by spreading the infinite Torah lessons and values. The splendor of the spring must go hand-in-hand with the substantive results of the summer.

Yitro

On January 18, 2014 by Ben Casper With 0 Comments - Shmos
[Based on sections of a sicha written by HaRav Avigdor Nebenzahl]
 
The Aseres HaDibros are broken into two main categories:
The first 3 address our Creator and how we are meant to relate to Him.
The final 6 address our relationship with Hashem’s creations.
 
The transition/link from the first 3 to the last 6 is Commandment #4: 
זָכוֹר אֶת יוֹם הַשַּׁבָּת לְקַדְּשׁוֹ 
 
Shabbos is our testimony and recognition that Hashem created the world. Hashem could have created the world in an instant, but He chose to create the world over the course of six days and make that seventh day a special one. We mimic Hashem’s ‘behavior’ every week of our lives, by working six days and resting on the seventh. Shabbos is one of many ways in which we attempt to emulate G-d.
 
Furthermore, Rav Nebenzahl explains (what I think is) a particularly relevant message relating to the Shir shel Yom recited each Shabbos (Tehillim 92). Mid-way through the Psalm, we say:
בִּפְרֹחַ רְשָׁעִים כְּמוֹ עֵשֶׂב
When the wicked spring up as the grass…
Sometimes we see re’sha’im sprouting, having success and happiness, living long lives, etc. But ultimately, true reshaim have no place in the World to Come. Their end, as Dovid HaMelech continues is: לְהִשָּׁמְדָם עֲדֵי עַד
When they reach the end of their time in this world, they are finished.
 
The opposite is true by tzaddikim. A tzaddik is much more than just a ‘piece of grass’. A tzaddik/tzaddeikes is forever. 
צַדִּיק כַּתָּמָר יִפְרָח כְּאֶרֶז בַּלְּבָנוֹן יִשְׂגֶּה
The tzaddik grows like a cedar tree; beyond any normal bounds. Why? Because a tzaddik ultimately grows in a world without boundaries; it grows in Hashem’s garden. It flourishes in Hashem’s palace:
שְׁתוּלִים בְּבֵית ה’ בְּחַצְרוֹת אֱלֹ-הֵינוּ יַפְרִיחוּ
Tzaddikim are hopefully given many years in this world to influence others and allow others to learn from them, but the main flourishing of a tzaddik occurs beyond this world.
 
Speaking personally, this concept is terribly difficult to comprehend when a life is cut short at such a young age and so abruptly. The hopeful message of these p’sukim, however, is that our belief that the life that was once on this Earth is now forever flourishing in Hashem’s Palace, will eventually bring some small amount of comfort to a grieving family and community. While a guf may tragically be gone, the neshama of a tzaddik or tzadedeikes is nitzchi.
 
The closest thing we have in this world to the World to Come is Shabbos. Shabbos is “me’in olam ha’ba”
Shabbos – observed properly, with the correct mindset – is a small taste of the World to Come. 
Shabbos links us to the World to Come, and it links our responsibilities to Hashem, with our responsibilities to Hashem’s creations. It takes us from a body and a world with borders, to a world/time without (or far fewer) borders. Shabbos is an elevated time to learn and daven a little differently than the rest of the week, and to strengthen relationships with our yedidei nefesh and begin new relationships with other fellow Jews.
 
Daniella understood all of this phenomenally well: She understood the purpose of Shabbos and loved Shabbos; with regard to the first 3 Dibrot, she had tremendous emunah, bitachon and yir’as shamayim; and with regard to the final 6 Dibrot, she also had incredible Kavod ha’briyos, Ahavas ha’briyos, Derech eretz and soaring traits of Bein adam l’chaveiro. 
 
Dozens of people have spoken or written about Daniella’s love of and importance given to Seuda Shlisheet. We eat this final seuda at the end of Shabbos; a time in the day when it can become easy to stare at our watches, counting down the end of Shabbos, so we can turn on our phones. Someone, however, who holds this meal/time with such high regard, ensures that no part of Shabbos goes by the wayside, and that Shabbos is enjoyed for the entire 25 hours we have to spend with Hashem. It can be said that such a person lives a life and practices their religion with wholeness and temimus. No shortcuts, no lapses; full and genuine commitment. This is someone who has tremendous respect and love for Shabbos, using that time to sing songs of shevach to HKBH, and to further build a community by fostering personal relationships. For thousands of reasons, ‘Temimus’ was the incredibly fitting adjective my brother first used to describe Daniella. Her observance and love of Shabbos was one of the many things she did with completeness, full sincerity and excitement.
 
In the zechus Daniella’s shining example, and all those who have decided, in tribute to Daniella, to give extra attention specifically to Seuda Shlisheet, to enhance their appreciation of the beauty of Shabbos as a whole, and to admire and try to emulate all the many wonderful midos Daniella embodied, may we be zocheh to enjoy Shabbosim of nechama, menucha and simcha.
 
Shabbat Shalom