Kriat Shema - Foundation of Emuna

Masechta Brachos famously begins, "Me'eimasai Korin es Shema be'Arvis" - when do we read Shema in the evening? It's been said that this opening line of the very first masechta of Shas should be read hashkafically: "When do we read the Shema? In the evening" - that is, Shema being the most fundamental statement of a Jew's faith in Hashem - when should that be read? In the "evening;" that is, in times of darkness and despair when we must fall back on our faith to persevere through troubling times.

The Power of Chesed

One of the prominent karbanot discussed in parshat Vayikra is the korban mincha, which consists of wheat and olive oil mixed together, and then cooked or fried in various ways.

The gemara in Menachot (104b) comments on the Vayikra pasuk 2:1 – “V’nefesh ki takriv korban mincha” – why does the word “nefesh” appear in this pasuk in connection with the korban mincha? The gemara answers that the korban mincha is usually brought by a poor person and so Hashem considers it as if the poor person has offered his very soul – his nefesh - up to Hashem because it is so difficult for a desitute person to afford the korban. Indeed, we see in connection with the korban "oleh v'yored" (5:1-13), where the type of korban brought depends upon the individual's financial status, that the poor man may bring a simple flour offering.

Thus, the mincha offering is associated with destitute individuals. Yet, interestingly, we see that the mincha offering also appears among the offerings that each of the Nesi’im of Bnei Yisroel – the princes of Israel – brought when the Mishkan was completed. As described in parshat Naso (7:12-83), we see that each Nasi brought wheat mixed with olive oil as a mincha offering – solet belulah b’shemen l'mincha.

What can we learn from the fact that the simple mincha typically brought by poor people was also part of the offerings brought by the most prominent, famous and richest princes of Israel?

Nurturing the Human Soul - From Cradle to Grave

The pasuk in Bereshit 2:7 relates the process by which Hashem created Man: “V’yitzer Hashem Elokim et ha’adam afar mi ha’adama, v’yipach b’apav nishmat chayim, va’yehi ha’adam l’nefesh chaya – Then G-d formed Man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and so Man became a living creature.”

What’s striking is that by referring to Man as “nefesh chaya,” the pasuk is suggesting that there is nothing different about Man than the creatures that preceded him, which are also referred to repeatedly as “nefesh chaya;” see Bereshit 1:20, 1:21, 1:24, 1:30. Rashi was clearly bothered by the use of “nefesh chaya” to refer to both Man and all of the other creatures, and addresses the issue. Whereas Rashi tersely interprets “nefesh chaya” in earlier pesukim as “a life force, ” (1:20, 1:21, 1:24), in the context of the creation of Man, Rashi elaborates that while all the other creatures are also referred to as “nefesh chaya,” Man has a stronger “life force” by virtue of the “dey’ah” and “dibur” (reasoning and speech) instilled in him by Hashem.

The distinction of Man as a “thinking” and “speaking” creature is echoed by the Targum Onkelos, which translates “nefesh chaya” in earlier pesukim as “nafsha chaita” (a living spirit), whereas “nefesh chaya” in connection with the creation of Man is translated as “ruach memalelah” – a speaking spirit.

What’s interesting about Onkelos’ translation in connection with Man is his use of an entirely differently word – “ruach” – as opposed to “nefesh” in connection with the other creatures. The word “ruach” does not appear in the pasuk itelf. However, there is a reference to “nishmat chayim” – i.e., neshama.

So we now have three different words referring to the “soul” of Man – nefesh, neshama and ruach. How do these each differ, and what does each contribute in distinguishing Man from all of the other creatures?

Standing the Test of Time: The Lessons of the Mishkan

Parshat Pekudei begins by naming the individuals involved in constructing the mishkan (38:21). On this pasuk, the commentator Seforno remarks that in constrast to the two batei mikdash, which were conquered and destroyed by our enemies, the mishkan was never conquered and destroyed. Seforno claims the reason is that the shechinah of Hashem rested more securely within the mishkan than within the first Beit Hamikdash, and did not rest at all within the second Beit Hamikdash (see Yoma 9b and 21b). What was so special about the construction of the mishkan that it merited to never be destroyed and what lessons can we learn?

The Naming of Binyamin: Communication, Forgiveness and Shared Values in the Marital Relationship of Yaakov and Rachel

The most emotionally wrenching episode in parshat Vayishlach is the death of Rachel during the birth of Binyamin. Yaakov had left Shechem and moved to Beit El at Hashem’s direction. In Beit El, Yaakov built a matzeva (pillar), and then departed towards Efrat. On the way, Rachel went into childbirth, and the midwife indicated that it was a son. Rachel’s labor was extremely difficult, and ultimately proved fatal. Pasuk 35:18 records that in her last dying breath, Rachel named her son “Ben Oni,” but that “his father” (i.e., Yaakov) called him “Binyamin.”

The narrative is somewhat difficult. We know that Yaakov loved Rachel the most of any of his wives. It must have been terrible for him to watch her die. Yet, after Rachel selects a name for her son in her last dying moments, Yaakov changes the name to something else. What was Yaakov’s intent in changing the name? If we look back at the pesukim recording the naming of Yaakov’s eleven sons, we see that – with the sole exception of Levi - Rachel and Leah selected the names (and even with respect to Levi, it was Leah who supplied the explanation) (see: 29:32; 29:33; 29:34; 29:35; 30:6; 30:8; 30:11; 30:12; 30:18; 30:20; and 30:24).

The Centrality of Shabbos to Spiritual Growth

Parshat Vayakhel primarily discusses the contribution of the materials used to construct the Mishkan, and the actual construction itself. However, before delving into these matters, the parsha starts off with the command to observe the Shabbos (verses 2 and 3). From the juxtaposition of the laws of Shabbos and the Mishkan, the rabbis learn that the labors required in the construction of the Mishkan are those labors which are prohibited on the Shabbos. Further, from the phrase "ay'leh hadevarim" (35:1), the gemara determines that there are 39 such labors.

What is the significance of the connection between the Mishkan and Shabbos?

Worship of Hashem vs. Worship of Self: Why the Torah Considers Idol Worship Such a Severe Sin

The seminal event in parshat Ki Tisa is, of course, the egel. It seems quite astounding that so soon after matan Torah at Har Sinai, Bnei Yisroel violated one of the fundamental prohibitions in the Torah - indeed, the second commandment - not to worship a graven image.

To be sure, the consensus of the commentators (Ramban, Ibn Ezra) is that Bnei Yisroel did not view the egel as a deity. Rather, concerned that Moshe had died, they sought an alternative intermediary to worship Hashem. Yet, Moshe repeatedly refers to the cheit ha'egel as "chata'ah gedola"  - a grave sin (Shemos 32:21, 32:30, 32:31). 

In other contexts, the Torah makes clear that the worship of graven images is a more severe sin than any other. In the sefer Parperaot LaTorah, Menachem Baker makes an interesting observation about the language in Ki Savo 27:15: "Arur ha'ish asher ya'aseh pesel u'masecha - Cursed is the man who will make an idol." He questions why the pasuk is phrased in the future tense (asher ya'aseh - who will make), instead of the present tense - "arur oseh pesel u'masecha - cursed is the man who makes an idol." The use of the future tense makes the pasuk inconsistent with the rest of the curses, which are all phrased in the present tense - e.g., "arur makleh aviv v'imo - cursed is one who strikes his father and mother," or "arur masig gevul ray'ayhu - cursed is one who invades the boundaries of his friend." Why the different tense for idol worship?

The answer is that with all other transgressions, Hashem punishes the actual sinful act, but not thoughts to commit the sinful act. As per Kiddushin 40a: "machashava ra'ah ein hakadosh baruch hu metzarfa la'ma'aseh - Hashem does not deem the sinful thought an action."

However, when it comes to avoda zara, the mere thought to commit such a sin is deemed equivalent to action, and warrants punishment. Hence the language in the pasuk - "asher ya'aseh" in the future tense, and not "asah" in present tense - i.e., once the thought to commit avoda zara is formed, it's equated with action and culpability attaches.

So to frame the question: why does the Torah consider avoda zara such a severe sin to the extent that sinful thought is equated with sinful deed? Answering this inquiry will, in turn, help us understand why the creation of the egel - a tangible intermediary to Hashem - was such a dangerous development.

Personality Types as a Path to Self-Improvement

The majority of parshat Tetzaveh focuses on the garments of the Kohanim. The first pasuk of this section (28:1) starts with Hashem commanding Moshe: "V'atah hakreiv elecha et Aharon achicha - Bring close to you Aharon your brother." The peshat is that Hashem instructs Moshe to separate Aharon and his sons from Bnei Yisroel and bring them close to him to annoint them as the "kohanim."

Is there a deeper message here?

The Keruvim: Instruments of Emuna and Bitachon

One of the more fascinating and enigmatic ornaments discussed in parshat Teruma is the keruvim (the winged angelic figures made of gold) that stood on top of covering for the aron (ark) containing the luchos (Shemos 25:18).

What is striking about the command to fashion the keruvim, as Abarbanel points out, is that the Torah forbids the creation of carved idols (Shemos 20:4). So how could Hashem direct the creation of such figures? Was this not a contradiction of the prohibition against fashioning idols? Abarbanel and other commentators respond that the keruvim was not intended to serve as an intermediary (as, for example, the “egel” – the Golden Calf – was intended), but rather was intended to inspire a stronger connection and closeness to Hashem. How did the keruvim accomplish this?

Deepening Our Relationship With Hashem By Perfection of Mitzvot B'ein Adam L'Chavero

What is striking about Parshat Mishpatim is that it appears to interrupt the flow of the narrative of Bnei Yisroel’s development as a nation. Prior to Parshat Mishpatim, starting with parshat Shemot, we read about Bnei Yisroel’s extraordinary journey from downtrodden slaves to uplifted nation receiving the Torah from Hashem at Har Sinai (parshat Yitro). The parshiyot after Mishpatim delve into the intricacies of the mishkan and priestly garments (and of course, there’s the incident of the egel).

So what are we to make of parshat Mishpatim, a seemingly dry recitation of numerous civil laws that appears out of place in the Exodus narrative? Or is it really out of place? Let’s see….

Find Solutions Not Problems

In connection with helping me address an issue that arose with respect to my son's attendance (b"eh) at Rambam Mesivta high school next year, the principals of the school, Rabbi Zev Friedman and Rabbi Yotav Eliach, quoted to me a saying used in the Israeli army - "l'kol ba'ayah, yesh pitaron." For every problem there is a solution."

It reminded me of another nugget of advice once shared with me by a close friend: "There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who find problems. And those who find solutions. Avoid the former and seek the latter."

Given that all wisdom can be found in the Torah, it is not surprising to find the above idea expressed in Parshat Yitro. How so? Read on.

Incorporating the Message of Yetziat Mitzrayim Into Our Daily Lives

Parshat Bo tells the story of Bnei Yisroel’s departure from Egypt. This narrative forms the basis for the hagada that we read on Pesach.

At the conclusion of the story of yetziat mitzrayim, the hagada instructs:

“b’khol dor vador chayav adam lirot et atzmo k’ilu hu yatza mi-mitzrayim”

“in each generation, each individual must view himself as if he was personally liberated from Egypt.”

This command sounds like a tall order – yetziat mitzrayim is in the distant past. How can one truly relive the experience of yetziat mitzrayim so it feels like a personal liberation?

I would like to suggest that the command “lirot et atzmo” is not necessarily limited to personally reliving the exodus in the sense that we need to feel like slaves departing from our oppressors (though many of the Seder rituals do attempt to create this feeling). Rather, I submit that part of “lirot et atzmo” is developing an attitude that reflects the incorporation of the message of yetziat mitzraim into our daily lives.

Indeed, there is a reason why remembering yetziat mitzraim is not limited to the Seder, but instead is one of the 6 events we are instructed to remember daily, and is also referenced twice a day in the Shema – morning and night. Incorporating the message of yetziat mitzraim into our lives – “lirot et atzmo” - is clearly much more than simply retelling the Exodus at the Seder.

The Land of Israel as the Beloved of the Jewish People

At the beginning of Parshat Va'ayra, when addressing Moshe, Hashem employs the famous five leshonos of geulah in promising that He will liberate Bnei Yisroel from Mitzraim. In pasuk 6:8, we have the final expression of geulah:

"V'hayvayti etchem el ha'aretz asher nasati et yadi latet otah l'Avraham, l'Yitzchak, u'l'Yaakov, v'natati otah lachem morasha, ani Hashem."

That is, Hashem promises that He will bring B'nei Yisroel to the land that he promised to the Avos, and He will give Eretz Yisroel to the Jewish people as a "morasha."

Traditionally, the word "morasha" is translated as an "inheritance." (note: in Devarim 33:4, the Torah is also referred to as a "morasha" of the Jewish people).

In several places, the Gemara says the word "morasha" should be read metaphorically as "me'urasa" - i.e., betrothed - from the concept of "erusin", which is the first step in a Jewish marriage. 

What is the significance of this metaphorical reference?

On The Uniqueness of Each Individual Jew

The very first pasuk of parshat Shemot states:

And these are the names of the Children of Israel who came to Egypt with Yaakov; each man and his household came.

The Torah proceeds to list the names of eleven of the sons of Yaakov; then a reference to Yosef living in Mitzrayim concludes the segment (Rashi explains why Yosef was singled out).

The Torah previously listed Yaakov’s sons by name during their lifetime (see Bereshit 35:23-26, 46:8-27 (also identifying the grandchildren), and 49:1-28). Rashi picks up on this and notes that Hashem also counted Yaakov’s sons after their deaths to show how precious they were to Him. Rashi adds that the counting was done by name because Yaakov’s sons are compared to the stars, which Hashem also counts by number and by name.

In his sefer Ta’am V’Da’as, Rav Sternbuch seeks to understand the analogy between Yaakov’s sons and the stars. He explains that just as each star has a specific purpose in the cosmic scheme that differentiates it from all other stars, so too each Jew has his or her special purpose in life as expressed through his or her unique soul.

Let’s develop this concept of the uniqueness of the individual Jew.

Learning From Yaakov's Hand Switch: Prayer During Times of Plenty

In Parshat Vayechi, Yosef brings his two sons, Ephraim and Menashe, to be blessed by his aging father, Yaakov. Yosef positions Menashe, the eldest, on Yaakov’s right, and Ephraim, the younger son, on Yaakov’s left. The ostensible purpose is to have Yaakov bless Menashe with his right hand – the right hand being deemed a source of greater blessing than the left hand (see list of halachic practices and non-ritual where the right hand takes precedence, reasons why the right hand is favored, and exceptions to the rule, e.g., tefillin).

Famously, Yaakov crosses his hands so that his right hand is on Ephraim, and his left hand is on Menashe, and proceeds to bless his two grandsons. At the conclusion of Yaakov’s blessing, Yosef notices that Yaakov had crossed his hands, and tries to move Yaakov’s right hand back on to Menashe. Yosef protests: “This is not correct, father. He [Menashe] is the bechor – put your right hand on his head.” Yaakov refuses to change his hands back and tells Yosef he knows that Menashe is the eldest. Yaakov explains:

“Gam hu y’hiyeh l’am v’gam hu yigdal v’ulam achiv ha’katon yigdal mimenu v’zaro y’hiyeh melo ha’goyim.”

“He [Menashe] too will become a national [hero] and he too will rise. But his younger brother will be greater than he and his descendants will astonish the nations.”

Rashi explains that Yaakov foresaw that Gideon would descend from Menashe, and a miracle would be performed through him. However, Yehoshua ben Nun, Moshe’s successor, would descend from Ephraim, and would help Bnei Yisroel conquer Eretz Yisroel and teach them Torah. The implication is that Yehoshua was a greater leader. Yaakov’s response is intended to explain his actions, but it’s not clear how it does so.